I dont own any of the Harry Potter characters
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I'd like to apologise for the last chapter - when I uploaded the document I proof read it in word and no words were stuck together, but when I uploaded they were :
So sorry about that.
Thank you for the reviews so far my lovelies :)
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Hermione toyed with the Hogwarts lily thoughtfully, eyeing the pollenated middle with absent deliberation. It was clearly a link between their two times, though she had no idea how or why. It could not, however, be mere coincidence that he had entered her own time frame with a flower which nobody had seen since his own death. As she thought, she felt his eyes on her, and looked up to meet his intelligent eyes, feeling as though she were being x-rayed for the slightest trace of an idea. There was something sinisterly scrutinous about the slight crinkle of his brow, and the way his eyebrow raised slightly above its normal line. She felt herself blush, again victim to some unknown feeling that unearthed itself when her eyes met his. There was nothing quite normal about it - she felt scrutinized and under constant examination. A week into their aquaintance, and she knew no more about him than before, except that he had a knack for making her blush, and was as arrogant as a pig. Of course, he had moments where he could make her smile, even laugh a little, but for the most part, he continued to annoy her with his ridiculous petnames, and his mouth seemed to curl in a constant smirk when she attempted to talk to him.
"While your slender little fingers seem to caress that stem almost lovingly, are you thinking about how to get me home? Or how to get me to your bedchambers?"
Hermione spluttered, dropping the flower as though it had physically burnt her. "I beg your pardon! I don't think thats entirely appropriate!"
"Forgive me Sunrise," he said quietly, "I'm just so distracted by your beauty, and so overwhelmed by the silence, I find myself incapable of rational thought." And there it was, that sly, flirtatious, yet somehow innocent smirk that seemed to make her squirm in both discomfort and embarrassment.
"You really should have learnt by now, that when I am quiet, I'm thinking," she paused, then added, "and not about sex."
Godric smiled, inclining his head politely as he tapped his fingers lightly on the desk. "Well," he said softly, "if you were to be wondering how best to get me to your chambers... I find open flirtation the most effective route."
Hermione jumped to her feet, throwing the flower down on the table in disgust. "If I've told you once Gryffindor, I've told you a thousand times, I am not interested in you entering my bedchambers, my name is not Sunrise, and I do not wish to be interrupted while I try and get your persistently horrific and unwanted person back to your godforsaken own timeline!"
Fuming, and turning a bright, angry red, she turned to leave. He leant across the varnished table and caught her wrist, apologies sincere and obvious behind his eyes.
"I don't mean to cause you upset by what I say," he murmured quietly. "I'm only attempting to get to know you better. You're so guarded and quiet; the only way I seem to be able to get any emotion or conversation from you at all is when I annoy you." His hand dropped hers and he looked down, waiting for her reply.
She was momentarily stunned. The idea that he was interested in knowing her had completely evaded her. In fact, the only thing that had seemed to interest him at all was getting home, and, possibly, the oppurtunity for sex, of a meaningless and careless nature.
"Why don't you just... ask me questions?" She said helplessly.
"I do." He said defensively. "I asked if you were thinking about me in your bedroom! Is that not to be considered a question?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Whatever time it is you come from, 'getting to know' a woman does not include obscene invitations to bedchambers, and never has done."
He smiled, nodded slowly. "You're correct, as always Sunrise." He sat back and motioned for her to sit down. "I don't like being so close to you physically so much of the time, when I can scarcely put a name to a face."
She sighed, seating herself gingerly down once more. "What do you want to know?" She asked shyly, toying with the hem of her blouse.
Godric smiled. "Whatever you wish to tell me."
--
"There's really not much to tell..." Hermione said slowly, rubbing her arm in nervousness. "I mean, I'm seventeen and Head Girl... that's really the extent of it!"
He chuckled leaning forward and crossing his arms on the desk, resting his head on them as he surveyed her carefully. "What of everything else? Favourite colours? Young men? Favourite classes? Surely there is more to you Sunrise."
She sighed, running her thumb over the nail of her forefinger. "My favourite colour is purple." She didn't elaborate on any of the other queries, and he didn't push her.
"Purple?" He said softly. "I would have thought Head Girl, and member of Gryffindor house would prefer her own, house colours?"
She laughed. "Just because I am Head Girl does not make it obligatory for me to like my House colours. Or at least, to favour them. I do like them, much preferred to green and silver in all respects, but in no way do I favour them."
Godric nodded slowly. "I see..." He tilted his head and smirked at her. "And the men?" His lip twitched in a smile as her face flushed pink.
"Nobody... not seriously at least..."
"Not seriously?" he sat up sharply. "I'm intrigued."
She shook her head. "I don't think it's anything to do with this..."
He leant across the table, picking up the Hogwarts lily and placing it uninterestedly on one of Dumbledore's units. Hermione stared, looking, for the first time, to have lost some confidence. The dumbstruck look on her face worked wonders for his ego and he grinned.
"Oh come on," he said softly. "A young lady like you, with an un-serious relationship? Who wouldn't be intrigued?" He placed his feet on the desk, arms behind his head, eyebrow raised in questioning.
"I don't..."
"In my time," he said softly, "to let a lovely girl like you walk around unchecked would be considered a criminal offence. Surely there's someone?"
"No. Nobody. Just... friends."
"Playmates?" he asked softly.
"No!" She said angrily. "We are not playmates. We're just... friends..."
"With beneficial sex on both parts?" Godric's smirk widened, to the point that Hermione found it difficult not to hit him.
"I don't believe I said anything like that! So stop twisting my words before I have you arrested for harrassment!"
Godric, blinking slightly at her abrupt outburst, said, "Sunrise... I don't believe your laws would have any meaning to me. Surely you can't reprimand someone living in the wrong time frame?"
"How are you going to prove you don't belong here?" She asked scathingly.
"I'm not." He said stonily. "You are."
She laughed. "I'll do no such thing!"
He shrugged. "Well, as you wish I suppose. It was just a question." Reaching for a water glass, he sipped and surveyed her carefully, noting the slightly darker hint of red on her cheeks, and how her eyes were averted from his of a sudden.
"So... favourite class?" He probed, hiding his own amusement behind another sip of water.
"Charms." She said, crossing arms and legs and tapping her foot in impatience. She faced the wall, avoiding eye contact.
He rolled his eyes. "Such a girls subject," he muttered quietly.
Hermione bristled, turning her gaze on him defiantly. "A girls subject?"
"Yes. No involvement of danger. No risk at all. Just mindless waving of wands." He shrugged. "Who wants to turn vinegar into red wine when there is a chance of adrenaline fuelled fighting?"
It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. "I'm going to go for dinner."
Godric looked up with disappointment in his eyes. "Sunrise, I'm sorry, I just... please don't go!"
He had leapt to his feet, blocking the way to the door with an almost childlike sense of loss. "I apologize I just... please, don't leave me up here on my own! You know I can't go downstairs, and being so isolated frustrates me. At least keep me company, just for tonight!"
She stared at him. "Keep you company?" The distaste was plain in her voice and he shook his head vigorously.
"I didn't mean... when I said tonight... I meant... for dinner! Not for... anything other than that..." He was, to Hermione's surprise, blushing.
Hermione looked at him for several moments, taking in the pleading expression, the physical stance with which he covered the exit from the room. "Fine..." she said slowly, lowering herself back into her seat again. He looked at her carefully, as though to see if she changed her mind, then joined her at the desk once more.
"I don't understand why I can't go downstairs." He said softly. "It's not like I'll get lost, or even as though I'll get recognized!"
"You don't understand," she replied, fingers running absently over the finely varnished wood. "You're not supposed to be in this time line. Anything you do in full view of the whole school could change the course of our whole lives, and yours! You could be accidentally hit with a hex which sends you flying through a window, and then you'll die and there'll be no Gryffindor!"
He sulked, eyes looking towards the floor. "So I'm supposed to spend my days, months, maybe even years, sat in this pathetic little room, while you attend lessons during the day, begrudgingly help for a few hours, then return to your private little dormitory to do even more work? I can't handle it! There can't be any more harm done by me going downstairs, than has already been done by taking you away from your friends for hours at a time, or even just by being here in the first place. If such small things have such huge outcomes, there's no harm in me leaving this room for a few hours! Even just for a walk in the grounds after dark!" He leant forwards and caught her hand in his. "I can't sit in here constantly. It's not who I am. If I don't get out soon, I'll snap and make things much worse! Nobody has to know my name. I'll say my names Gareth Gornwell if it will make you feel better, but please, let me at least spend some time outside." He seemed to hesitate, and just as he lifted his hand he dropped it again, eyes meeting hers. "Please Hermione. Convince your Headmaster. I can't do this... I just can't."
His face fell, and she felt herself giving in, hopeless.
"I can't promise..."
"Just try," he begged, squeezing her hand. "I need to get out of here... if just for a few hours... to see the outside... to think clearly..."
She sighed, nodding helplessly. "I'll try but... Dumbledore has his reasons, and I can't make him change his mind."
He nodded, dragging his hand from hers and sitting back. "I know... I just... it's as though I'm being imprisoned, even punished, for something beyond my control."
Hermione could only nod her head, trying to be non-commital. It was difficult to do so. She had no idea what it must feel like, to be so far from anyone you knew, yet so close to them, in essence at least. The same walls must surround him constantly as he might well have sat in with his three friends. She would have lashed out long before now.
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The sun was setting, painting the sky in an array of pinks and oranges that were warming to the eye. It found the grounds deserted, but for Godric and Hermione, walking slowly along the edge of the lake. It had been surprisingly easy to sway Professor Dumbledore - so long as Hermione remained with Godric at all times, and if anyone were to appear suddenly she disillusioned them, there was no reason for him not to spend a few hours a night out in the grounds. As they walked, Hermione vaguely wondered who he was beneath the handsome face, beneath the cocky attitude and slightly Slytherin manner of acting. Surely, she mused, there was a personality of much more depth, hidden, perhaps just out of her view? He caught her sidelong glance and flashed a winning smile in her direction.
"What is it?" He probed, capturing her eyes with his for only the slightest moment, before casting a large, sweeping look across the glistening water.
She shrugged. "Nothing. It's just nice out here..."
He smiled, and it reached his eyes, sparking a light in them that she had not noticed to be absent. "I love this lake," he said softly, slowing to a halt and sitting himself down on the grassy slope. Hermione sat down gingerly beside him, keeping a good yard between them, though trying not to show it in herself. Instead, she listened to him as he spoke, not asking questions, but letting him talk at his own pace, watching the sun set in front of them. "The four of us came down here once... a few weeks after we decided to start the school..." A small tear slid from his eye, and he did not attempt to wipe it away, or even hide it's existence. Hermione found herself watching its trail down his face. "It was one of the happiest days of my life... just us, no responsibilites, no arguments or commitments, no conflicts... My three best friends..." he picked absently at a blade of grass, shredding it slowly in two and letting both pieces float to the ground. Lying back, he looked at her, eyes soft. "I've always wondered why it had to change," he murmured, "why we ever even started the school. It was so less complicated when it was just us." Sighing, he traced her hand with his finger, making her jump back in shock.
Blushing, she apologized. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting..."
Godric shook his head. "It's fine... I was just remembering certain things... certain people, and times... times when the woman I sat here with knew me truly."
Hermione looked at him assessingly, frowning. "Who was she?"
He seemed to ignored the question for a time, his hand running through his hair. Eventually, he said, very quietly. "Gwendolyn." A fondness overcame him that she had not witnessed before on his face.
She reached for his hand without thinking, sliding her forefinger under his and hooking it lightly. "A lover?" She asked, almost blushing at her own question.
To her surprise, a bark of laughter escaped Godric's throat, amusement plain on his open mouth, and in the manner he tilted his head back. When it subsided, he grinned at her and shook his head. "Not my lover. My sister." He smiled absently, as though remembering something, and looked back with a look of guilt only partially hidden by his smile. "She was my best friend too... before... well..." His eyes darkened. "I'll say only that Salazar will never be forgiven." He pulled his hand from hers and looked away.
Saying nothing, Hermione sat up, hunched over her own knees and resting her chin upon them, eyeing the gentle ripples of the water with vague interest and waiting for him to speak again. There were minutes of uncomfortable silence, where Godric remained still and vacant, his breathing deep. Hermione had the strange feeling that he was crying, but could not bring herself to comfort him. She didn't feel she knew him well enough to embrace him over a grief she could not understand, and knew nothing of, and, aside from that, anything more than holding his finger made her feel somehow out of place.
"She loved him." He said eventually.
Hermione looked at him, a frown creasing her brow. "You mean...?"
"Gwendolyn. She loved Salazar." A bitter smile twisted his lips. "I warned her before anything happened... I told her he was no good for women. He may well have been my best friend, and yes, for my part I trusted him. But he would never be good enough for her." He blinked away a fresh set of tears, but went on. "She didn't listen to me. I don't suppose I would have either, if I were her. He offered her riches... a family... love. She was always... easily led." Godric's hands shook as he stared at them. "For a year, they courted... they married. She bore him a daughter..." his eyes glistened with the light of the sun. "He was... angry. Angrier than I've ever seen anyone. He hurt her... he wasn't the first man to beat his wife, and I daresay not the last... but she was my sister, and nobody hurt my sister with my knowledge and got away with it! Especially not my apparent best friend."
Hermione stared at him. "Is that... is that why Slytherin left?"
Godric nodded. "He abandoned my friendship the moment he laid hand to her, and if I had my way I'd kill him, just as he killed her..." He froze, then jumped to his feet, realizing too late that he had said too much.
"Wait!" Hermione said as he stalked off. Running, especially in her high heeled boots, proved difficult, but as she reached him, he slowed down, turning around and looking at her through watering eyes.
"I'm sorry Sunrise," he said quietly. "I don't want to talk about my sister and Salazar anymore."
She stood there, looking at him for several moments, before she walked forwards and touched his hand, taking it in hers and rubbing her thumb assuringly on the back of his palm. "You don't have to apologize, I'm..." she stopped, trailing off and looking away from their held hands.
"You're what?" Godric murmured, eyes half lidded as he relaxed at her touch.
"It doesn't matter." She assured him. "Come on, we'd better go upstairs." Blushing, she corrected herself. "I mean, inside... in doors..."
Grinning, Godric nodded. "Ok," he said quietly. "You'd better lead the way." Hermione smiled and went to let go of his hand, only to find he gripped hers harder, eyes pleading.
"Don't let go." He said softly. "I don't want you to... not yet."
She gulped, but inclined her head slowly. "Alright. Come on.."
--
It was a surprisingly short walk to Dumbledore's office, and Hermione found herself attempting to find a longer route. Though he said nothing, and she didn't probe at anything, there was something truly delightful about holding his hand as they walked. It felt so innocent, so comforting, that if she'd had her own way, she would not have let go at the gargoyles at all. In fact as they stood their, hands joined, she wondered why she had been quite so defensive about him accompanying her to her rooms after all. Blushing at the thought, she smiled vaguely at him. "Well, goodnight..." she said, making no effort to move or let go of his hand.
He nodded, "goodnight Sunrise."
There was an awkward moment, in which niether of they met each others eyes by complete accident, and both looked in opposite directions, then she risked a glance at his turned head and smiled. "I guess I should get going..." she told him quietly.
He nodded, though the sincerity was not quite convincing, and his hand still remained in hers.
"Unless you wanted some company?" Her voice was shy and timid, and his head twisted round to look at her, a frown on his brow.
"Company?" He croaked, throat dry.
She nodded, then blushed. "Not like that!"
He smiled reluctantly. "I think I should get some sleep. But thank you, Sunrise... Hermione, I mean."
Flushing pink, she shook her head. "You can call me Sunrise if you want..."
Godric's grin lit up his eyes. "I knew you'd give in sometime."
She frowned, her nose slightly wrinkled. "You don't talk like you come from that long ago..."
He shrugged. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to blend in... I thought it might convince your headmaster I could walk around in the daytime too."
The hopelessness on her face said enough, and Godric smiled, squeezing her hand. "Don't worry though. I'll survive, as long as you continue to take these walks with me."
She smiled, "I'll do my best."
Another silence, stretched over a thousand years, yet lasting mere seconds.
"You know..."
"I think..."
Bother parties blushed. "Goodnight, Godric." Hermione said quietly.
He blinked at her use of his first name, then smiled. "Goodnight." He pulled his hand slowly back, but froze as the ends of their fingers caught each others. Looking down at her young, small, hand in his, he felt a warmth he hadn't experienced since his arrival, and as his fingers fell from hers, he felt a strange sense of emptiness and loss.
She turned, walking down the corridor and away from him. Sighing, he spoke to the gargoyles. "Cauldron cakes," he said half-heartedly.
"Quite right," one said, and they both jumped aside. A tap on his shoulder made him turn around, and he found with delight that Hermione was standing before him again.
"What is it?" He asked, attempting to sound tired, but not sure that the note of heady excitement hadn't somehow crept in.
Hermione looked at him for several moments, almost shyly, then spoke quietly. "Did house elves work for you?"
He frowned, one eyebrow raised. "House elves? What on earth is a house elf? Why would I want an elf in my house?"
"They clean and cook for you... they work here."
Godric looked quite befuddled. "Why would I want an elf when I can just as easily pay my servants to do so?"
"Oh no they don't get paid! Well here they do but... they're the same as servants, only..."
"How utterly preposterous!" Godric said, disdain clear in his voice. "It's like slave labour!"
A delighted, childlike grin broke across Hermione's face, and she squeaked a happy "goodnight Godric!" before rushing away again.
Godric stared after her, completely unaware of how happy his comment had made her.
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Now everyone, I need a name for a house-elf, and I'd very much like some suggestions :-)
Let me know what you thought of this…
Mage of the Heart
Ps. I'm in love with Godric