Chapter 8!

So, Hermione is a total pro at horse riding, wouldn't you agree? xD

So, I'm slightly stressed, because I didn't think that many people would read this story, and now I just hope it's good enough to deserve this many readers!

Anyway, let's head for the Western Approach, shall we?

Disclaimer: not mine!

-o-

Chapter 8 - Da'fen

"Are you quite certain you have never ridden a horse before?"

Hermione looked at Dorian as he rode up next to her. "Completely certain."

Dorian shook his head. "So what you are saying is that it took you one week to reach this skill-level."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I could never have done it without Da'mi, though. He just…gets me."

Dorian's eyes widened as they heard Solas burst out laughing from behind them. "What is happening to the world," he whispered, and Hermione had to clap her hand over her mouth to stop herself from bursting out laughing as well.

"Did I hear you correctly?" Solas said as he rode up on the other side of Hermione. "You named him Da'mi?"

Hermione patted the horse. "Yup! We agreed that it was a good name. Right, Da'mi?"

The horse neighed, and Solas burst out laughing again – Hermione had to avert her eyes from the sight of Dorian's shocked expression – and kept her eyes on Solas, giving him an amused smile.

"How…apt," Solas said, shaking his head in amusement.

"It seems I am missing out on something here," Dorian said, raising an eyebrow. "Elven, yes?"

Solas gave Dorian an amused look. "It means 'Little Blade'. It's often used as an endearment."

Dorian's eyes lit up in amused understanding. "How…apt, indeed."

They are talking, Hermione thought.And friendly at that. Let's hope this is something that will continue.

-o-

They were chatting happily, until they heard a roar.

"Bear!" Trevelyan yelled. "Quickly! Dismount!"

Wow, bears run fast, Hermione thought as the bear burst out of the trees, heading with lightning speed towards Evelyn. She's not going to make it, was her next thought, and reacted more on instinct than anything else.

"Expulso!" Hermione yelled, and the bear exploded in a rain of blood and gore.

The Inquisitor stopped in her tracks, and there was a long moment of complete silence as Hermione observed Evelyn. Her foot was still on the saddle, the other foot on the ground, and she was just frozen like that, staring at Hermione.

That's a piece of bear, Hermione thought absently, looking at the chunck of bear in Evelyn's hair. Oh, gods, you did that.

She flicked her wand several times, and eventually, the Inquisitor was - well, almost at least - clean.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said as she dismounted and walked over to Evelyn. "I just reacted. I could have used a less...messy spell."

The Inquisitor gave her a surprised look. "Can't say I enjoy bathing in bear-guts, but I definitely prefer that over death by bear. Thank you."

Hermione flicked a hand as she noticed something that might just possibly be piece of bear-brain on Evelyn's shoulder. "Any time," she said with amused eyes. "On a different note, damn that bear was fast. I knew they could run, but that was almost impressive."

Evelyn just laughed, and Hermione grinned as she mounted again.

-o-

It was getting dark, so they decided to find a place to camp.

"Actually, inside the woods here would be perfect," Hermione said. "We'll be hidden from everything."

"Yes, and everything will be hidden for us as well," Dorian quipped. "Bears, among other things."

Hermione laughed. "Believe me, we will be completely safe. I spent eight months or so living in a tent in the woods, finding a new place every few days so we wouldn't be found." Dorian gave her a puzzled look, and she waved a hand dismissively. "Long story. The point is that I had eight months to perfect my wards. Nothing will find us."

-o-

They found a place to make camp, and that was when Hermione realised she hadn't told them about the Wizarding tent she had brought with her. She had brought two, in fact, in case one of them should break somehow. Not that she thought that would happen, because her tents were the most expensive ones she could find, which meant they were basically small houses.

After months in that shabby, small tent she had shared with Harry and Ron when they searched for Horcruxes, Hermione had made sure to buy proper camping equipment. Never again would she sleep in that kind of tent again.

"You don't have to pitch the tent," Hermione said, gesturing at the roll on the ground. "I have brought – well – a bigger tent."

They all stopped to look at her, apparently waiting for her to clarify what she was talking about.

Hermione put her enchanted pouch on the ground, flicked a hand, summoning the Wizarding tent, and with a few more flicks of her hand, the tent was pitched.

"I thought you said you had a bigger tent?"

"It's bigger than it looks like," Hermione said, smiling at Dorian. "It's a Wizarding tent. They are rather amazing. Take a look inside." Dorian just looked at her, so she rolled her eyes. "Just look inside."

-o-

A few minutes later, they were all in the tent, and Hermione was just standing in the doorway to the kitchen, observing the awestruck people as they took in their surroundings.

The tent had two floors, and they were currently standing in the living room – a big room with a fireplace, soft, two comfortable sofas, two armchairs and a small table in the corner – next to the big bookshelf, of course – and a big coffee table. Everyone would have more than enough room to be comfortable, to say the least.

Other than the living room, the ground floor had a big kitchen – kitchen island and all – and a small bedroom. Upstairs consisted of four bedrooms and a bathroom – a huge bathroom, in fact, with a big marble tub, a shower with two shower heads, and of course a toilet.

The best part? Everything worked. The tent had electricity, hot water, a toilet that flushed, and food in the fridge. The latter had been quite the challenge – keeping the fridge working while rolled up in her bag – but she had managed to make it work.

Thank Merlin for magic. And thank Merlin for the fact that someone had achieved – this had been quite the breakthrough – to make electricity run on magic. The bathroom was all magical as well. An aquamenti charm conjured water, and an adjustable heating charm made the dream of a hot shower a reality.

The bathroom even had a ton of fluffy, self-cleaning towels. The tent was basically pure luxury.

"I'm just going to go outside and place some wards."

No one seemed to register her words, nor her presence, so Hermione gave them an amused smile before exiting the tent.

-o-

Casting wards was as simple as breathing – several months of casting wards on a paranoid level had given her quite a lot of practice – and Hermione always found herself lost in thought while casting wards. The feeling when the wards fell in place gave her a sense of peace, and she had come to love casting wards.

"Protego Duo," she said softly, and watched as the magic – a shimmering white – knitted itself together, creating a bubble over them. "Protego Horribilis." A second bubble – violet this time – shimmered in place. "Protego Totalum." Next, she raised her wand towards the sky. "Protego Maxima." A light blue flare of magic burst from her wand, knitting a shimmering light blue bubble with the other wards.

She paused for a moment before casting the two final wards. She always got slightly emotional when casting them.

It reminded her of the battle of Hogwarts. She would never forget the sight of all the teachers casting wards, and the sight of the wards as they knitted together in a display of gold, silver, and light. It was like bursts of lightning and flame when they merged, eventually creating a practically impregnable magical protection barrier around them.

It had taken Voldemort and his army to break it down. They would be safe.

She watched the wards as they slowly knitted themselves together, completely lost in thought.

"Remarkable."

Hermione turned around, finding Solas standing there with awe in his eyes. Had he been watching her placing wards? Apparently he had.

"Protective enchantments," she simply said, smiling. "It would take an army of mages to break through now. Of course, they would have to find us first."

"It's beautiful."

"It is, isn't it?"

He came over to stand next to her, gazing at the sight of the wards. "It is indescribable."

"I fought in a war," Hermione said softly. "This reminds me of the night we won. And how many we lost."

Solas gazed at her for a moment. "You told me of this. The first night in the Fade."

Hermione hummed in agreement. "I did. It was the same as always. An evil megalomaniac tries to take over the world. Darkness versus light. Light won in the end, but the victory was clouded by grief."

"How old were you?" Solas asked after a moment of silence.

"Eighteen when it ended."

"And when it began?"

"Twelve. Although it didn't really start until I was fifteen. But I was in the middle of it from the beginning. The explanation why is a long and complicated story, but my best friend was the only one who could defeat the megalomaniac, a responsibility he carried on his shoulders from age eleven. A heavy burden for a child, and not a burden he should carry alone. The megalomaniac – Voldemort as he called himself – had split his soul into seven pieces, hiding them around the world, and he could not die before all the pieces were destroyed. So we travelled, Harry, Ron, and I, searching for the pieces. Every day for several months I cast these wards, in pure terror, of course, because Voldemort was hunting us – his entire army was hunting us – thus, at this point, casting these wards are as easy as breathing. We eventually managed to destroy all the pieces of his soul, and the final battle took place in our school. The school where we learned about magic. A ancient, magical castle. I will never forget the sight of all my Professors, everyone fighting for the light, grief stricken and grave, standing in the courtyard, casting these wards, and how it knitted itself together over the huge castle. Nor will I forget when the army began destroying the wards. It took hundreds of people, and every spell was a small explosion on the outside of the ward, like a promise of death and darkness. They broke it, in the end. And then they charged. And then, we won. And then…silence. Silence as we searched for the casualties – dead friends, broken bodies, lying in the rubble where someone had shattered a stone wall, a pool of blood where the werewolves had attacked, or just still – killed by a simple spell – not a mark on their bodies. They say the dead look like they are sleeping, but that's not true, is it? The moment life leaves the body, they change. They are…grey. Lifeless skin and…limp. In a completely different way from someone sleeping." She paused for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. "I still have no idea how many I killed that night. It was all a blur."

"Ir abelas, da'len," Solas said, softly. I am filled with sorrow for your loss, little one.

-o-

Hermione made a small campfire outside the tent, and sat down, gazing around. The forest was so beautiful, and it was like it called out to her.

I wish I could run, she thought, for a little while, if nothing else.

"You feel it as well, don't you, da'fen?"

Hermione turned around to find Solas standing there, gazing into the forest. "Mmh," she said with a sigh. "I do."

What did he just call me? she thought. Da'fen?

Little wolf. He had just called her little wolf. Hermione found she rather loved that endearment.

"I could always knock out our companions for a little while," Hermione quipped. "So we could run for a bit."

Solas looked at her with glittery amusement in his eyes. "If only." Turning back to the forest, he continued. "Do you wish to keep your wolf-shape a secret?"

Hermione gave him a puzzled look, even if he wasn't looking at her. "Well, no. I just – I don't know, honestly."

"I understand what you mean, Lethallan," Solas said as he turned to look at her again. "However, they will find out at some point. Why not now?"

Hermione thought about it for a moment. "Well, yes. Yes, why not now?"

She got up and walked over to the tent, poking her head inside. "Hello? Could you come outside for a moment?"

After a couple of minutes, everyone was outside, looking at Hermione and Solas with puzzled looks.

"So," Hermione said sheepishly. "Solas and I are going to run around the forest for a bit."

"Pardon?"

"Well, you see…" Hermione began, but then shook her head. "Maybe we could just show you."

"Indeed," Solas agreed, and Hermione had to stifle a laugh when she saw the spark of mischief in his eyes.

They shifted just at the same time, and then just stood there, next to each other, looking at their companions.

"You have got to be joking!" Dorian said after a very long, and very silent moment. "This is just…" He trailed off, and burst out laughing.

They shifted back, and Solas smirked, looking at Dorian (who was still laughing) with glittery eyes. "May The Dread Wolf never catch your scent, Dorian."

This did, in fact, shut Dorian up, and he stared at Solas for a long moment. "I'm not certain whether you are serious, or sassing me again."

"It could be both," Hermione quipped, and Solas chuckled. "Anyway, Solas and I are going for a run. Any objections?"

"Is it safe?"

Hermione couldn't help the somewhat amused look she gave Evelyn. "Well, first of all; my wolf-shape is, in fact, a wolf. Sharp teeth, enhanced senses, generally what a real wolf is. Second; I'm literally standing next to The Dread Wolf. The ancient elven god, remember?"

Raising an eyebrow, Solas gave Hermione a rather jaded look, which did nothing to dampen her amusement. "Well, you are. Everything I just said was literal. I just figured it was the easiest that way."

Solas rolled his eyes. Actually rolled his eyes.

"Emma shem'nan, da'fen. You have ten seconds."

My revenge is swift, little wolf. You have ten seconds.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she turned to the perplexed people looking at them. "Yes, well, got to go. We will be back in a while."

She promptly shifted into her wolf form, and took off into the woods. The last thing she saw was Solas smirking, and then she heard the growl as he took off after her.

-o-

They returned to the camp approximately two hours later, happy and refreshed - strange, considering how they had spent two hours running - and Hermione couldn't help but glance at Solas all too frequently.

The light in his eyes after wolfing out in the forest was just...enthralling.

They entered the tent, and found their companions sitting in the living room. There was a moment of complete silence before Dorian spoke. "I find myself curious," he said in an amused voice, "as to why you have feathers in your hair."

Hermione was certain she blushed on a new, and thus far unknown level right then.

Her embarrassment, however, turned into outrage when Solas burst out laughing.

She spun around, pointing a finger at him. "You! You knew, and you purposely didn't tell me!"

When Solas laughed again, she promptly shifted, giving him barely enough time to shift as well before she pounced on him.

She had absolutely no chance against The Dread Wolf, and she knew it. But this time she took him by surprise, and she actually managed to knock him over, which was an achievement, quite frankly. She knew The Dread Wolf could probably have knocked her out in a second, so she was rather surprised when he relented.

He let me win, she thought, mentally rolling her eyes.

It did feel great, however. And satisfying. Even if she knew he had let her win.

She snarled angrily at Solas before shifting back to human shape, finding her companions staring at them with wide eyes.

"Remind me not to mess with her," Blackwall said shakily. "She just took down The Dread Wolf."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Solas shifted, and she saw the amused glint in his eyes. "Believe me," she said, giving the amused elven god a jaded look, "he let me win."

Solas smirked. "You did knock me over. I'll admit to that."

"What is happening to the world!?"

Hermione looked at Dorian's gobsmacked expression, and couldn't help the giggle that escaped her. "I have absolutely no idea, Dorian."

He shook his head before smirking at her. "Now, about those feathers."

Hermione groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I killed a bird, alright?"

"You killed a bird."

"Yes," she said, giving him a jaded look. "I killed a bird. I'm a wolf, Dorian. Instincts, you know. I don't do it on purpose, though. It just…happens, sometimes. Hunting, running around…" she gestured aimlessly with her hands. "Just…the excitement of it all."

"I see," Dorian said in a thoughtful voice. "And…should we be worried?"

"About what?"

Solas chuckled. "He is wondering whether you will accidentally kill him, Hermione."

Hermione gave Solas a startled look before turning said startled look at Dorian. "Are you serious? No! I have my thoughts, my humanity, and my reasoning intact, even as a wolf."

"But the excitement of it all, and wolfish instincts sometimes results in you killing birds," Dorian deadpanned.

"It's a bird, Dorian. So yes. But no. You do not need to worry. Unless you decide to continue this conversation, that is. That might just result in you running through that forest. Anyway, I am going to take a shower to get these bloody feathers out of my hair."

"A what?"

Hermione realised she had not introduced them to the miracle that was a shower. "A shower. And let me tell you, sometimes it's better than sex. Come on, I'll show you."

-o-

Well, that was an overly interesting day, Hermione thought as she lay in her bed that night. Rolling her eyes, she turned over to her side to let sleep find her.