In the end, it made sense, Hermione admitted to herself. Since she was still in her period of grace, any mistakes she made on the Void would be pardoned. Unfortunately, the other aspects of Fate were alarmingly vague about the material Hermione was supposed to collect.
Deep inside the Void, there was the material, "some sort of soul stuff", said Lachesis, a fiber Hermione was supposed to collect and use to spin the threads in the spindle. So they decided to go in the first opportunity they had.
It was also a chance to practice the whole traveling by threads thing. Hermione was the one who spun out the thread and climbed it expertly. There were threads of time and threads of space, in a world of new magic she would love to study. There was also the Thread of Life, the one and only, and that was the one who should guide her inside the Void.
'But why aren't you allowed in the Void?' asked Hermione.
It's more a question of not being able to handle it, explained Lachesis. Our minds are not equipped. Not all incarnations can handle the Void.
'Which ones can?'
Mars, Gaia, said Atropos. Maybe others. We don't know for sure.
And Clotho, of course, said Lachesis. Marlene used to pick up her yellow cloak - the same one you are wearing now - and do this at least once a month.
She said each time became easier, added Atropos.
'So the first time is the hardest,' shivered Hermione.
We will be with you, but dormant. It will be like a little nap.
Hermione was not sure if the nap would be little or short at all. She took on the distaff to hold the fibers and began her way. She had a long trek ahead of her.
The location itself was vague. The Void stood somewhere beyond Purgatory, not upwards nor downwards. Just beyond.
'There is a forest ahead,' she told the other aspects.
That is correct. And this is about the point where our consciousness begin to fail. Good luck, sister.
And Hermione felt the other two fall silent. She also shivered a bit on the inside and took out her golden distaff, the one with the Thread of Life. Like the Greek heroine Ariadne, the thread would make sure she didn't lose her way inside the Void.
It was trickier than she thought. Since the Void could not go upwards to Heaven or downwards to Hell, Hermione assumed it would be a flat environment. She was wrong.
Laws of physics and logic stayed out of that place. The path was constantly blocked by a forest of impossible trees whose roots grew upwards and had bark of its own. It was getting darker by each turn.
Hermione kept unraveling the Thread of Life from her magical distaff and it kept her going for a long time. But she had no intention of giving up, and it reminded herself of the impossible task of retrieving one of Lord Voldemort's horcruxes from the Black family's vault at Gringotts. She had been able to do that, so she should be able to do this.
The small path grew darker yet and even more impossible at every step, because it went upwards and then it bent backwards in an apparent loop. Hermione looked back at the pathway and realized it was actually a spiral. Even when she thought she was upside down, the spiral moved on.
Ever so gently, the spiral began turning into a stream of some sort. It was fluid, but not liquid, and the sheer impossibility of that made Hermione realize how there were stranger things in that weird new world. The dark environment did not make it any easier to get oriented or to dispel the dreamy feeling of the place.
There was no way Hermione could avoid the strange stream, so she used the cloak as a means of not getting wet. Much to her surprise, the cloak's fabric turned into a rigid material. And it was the only thing fairly visible, because of its bright yellow color.
'This must be the answer: the cloak is a raft,' mused the girl. But she hesitated. Could the stream turn violent and break the thread, leaving her utterly stranded in the core of the Void? Then she realized that she was using the Thread of Life itself. Only Atropos could cut the Thread of Life.
Smart girl, Marlene, admired Hermione.
And her little makeshift boat rolled down the stream. Or up, as it may seem, for there was a sort of waterfall of non-water fluid that went straight up. Hermione tried not to panic, as the pool was made of thick fibers that had tiny bright spots scintillating everywhere as if it was nighttime and the pool above her head was a sort of starry sky. She was awed, actually. It was beautiful and quite impossible to describe.
Was that what Van Gogh saw in his head in the fields of Provence all those centuries ago?
Then Hermione looked around and realized. That was it. That was the heart of the Void. And that was the Source of Life itself, the purest stuff. That was the material Hermione needed to spin the threads of mortal people's lives. She did not waste time.
With the utmost care, Hermione gathered a bit of the stuff and put it gently in the distaff creating a skein of fibers. It was not as puffy as cotton nor as sticky as cotton candy, and it certainly was malleable enough not to get tangled as she harvested it and collected in the distaff.
This is almost fun, cheered Hermione internally. She was also feeling quite accomplished, for being able to complete the task. It gave her a feeling of really being an Incarnation of Immortality. She wished she could talk to her two sisters in office.
It was not long before the distaff looked properly full, and she declared her task completed. Now it was time to get back to the Abode, and to see if the Ariadne trick with the Thread of Life worked after all.
Hermione pulled the thread and basically hauled herself out of the unusual stream of fluid. When solid path reappeared, she retraced her way back through the spiraling bridges and roads, recovering the sacred Thread on the golden distaff.
When the slopes and declivities eased a bit, Hermione got enough of her normal senses to realize something was amiss. The narrow, dark path looked the same, but the young woman could feel the hairs on the back of her neck sharply rising.
Suddenly there was a man right in front of her, blocking her way.
'Well, well, well,' he said maliciously. 'Look who it is. So soon in the office and already on the job, lovely Clotho?'
It was so dark Hermione couldn't see the man's features. He seemed to be wearing a suit, but the lack of light didn't let her be sure of that. 'Who is this? How can you be here?'
He laughed silkily. 'Oh, dear beauty, you may be new but you surely know some incantations can go to the Void beyond yourself.'
'I don't recall meeting you before.'
'And this is a fault I am glad to correct now, sweet Clotho, as well as other faults committed against me. I am here to clear my evil name, oh delicious one.'
Hermione felt a shock trespassing her entire immortal body. 'Satan...!"
The man in the shadows bowed down to her most dramatically, 'King of all things evil, Prince of Darkness, and all other horrid monikers, in the supernatural flesh. So flattered to make your lovely acquaintance.'
Hermione exploded in long-repressed rage, yelling, 'Well, I am not! You filthy murderer! You killed Ron!'
The Most Evil One made a mock expression of ironic sadness, 'Oh, yes, the sacrificial husband. May I express my unfelt condolences on your loss?'
The words made Hermione even angrier. 'You foul cockroach! I hate you, you hear me? I hate you!'
He hadn't lost his smirk. 'Of course you hate me, you most delectable thing. I am the master of all evil and destructive emotions. You see? I influence people to feel evil. And there you are, hating me whole heartedly. I am humbly proud.'
Hermione realized he was right. But the hatred for being before the one responsible for Ron's senseless death was overwhelming. Disgust and ire poured out of her skin, as she seethed at the incarnation of evil.
She accused, 'You thought I would become so mad with grief that I would end my life, thus damning my soul to hell.'
Satan had the audacity to look surprised. Actually, he looked insulted. 'Oh, is that what the others told you? They said they would blame me, but at least they could have come up with a better excuse. Do they really believe I am not capable of a deeper plan?'
'Others? Which others? What are you talking about?'
'I told you before: I came here to clear my evil name. I am being improperly accused of your husband's demise. The other incarnations conspired to kill your husband and make you accept the office. Of course they blamed me for the deed, and I accepted because I preside all evil deeds. It is my job.' He shrugged.
Hermione was confused. 'I don't understand. The other incarnations did this? Why?'
Satan shrugged and sighed, smirking, 'Oh, the innocence of mortals. Let me explain how things are here, sweetheart. The incarnations may be immortals, but mostly they are humans, with human flaws and human tastes. And most of them are male. With male needs, if you catch my drift.'
Hermione couldn't help but blush. Even in the dark, the Prince of Evil caught that. 'I can see my meaning is, indeed, not lost to you. So, when the opportunity arose to attract such a scrumptious thing like you here, they were all for it. Old Clotho was, after all, an old thing, having lost all innocence and freshness. She was the first one to jump at the chance of relieving herself from whoring duties.'
'WHAT?'
Satan never lost the ironic smirk. 'Excuse my French, but let's be honest, sweet chums, that is the right name. I am sure the other aspects explained it to you as being the only one who could understand poor Chronos, but soon virile Mars would pay you a visit, as well as somber Thanatos... You know how these things go.'
Hermione was shocked. 'Shut up! Shut up right now!'
Satan sounded totally smug and proud of himself. 'You know I am right. They all conspired against you, doll. And since I am taking the heat, why not reap the benefits?'
'What do you mean?'
'It doesn't have to be uncomfortable, Hermione,' said Satan. And suddenly he transformed himself into Ron. Her Ron was there, all red hair and bright eyes, smiling at her. And he moved towards her seductively. 'Don't you miss kissing your dear husband, my Mione?'
That was the straw that broke the camel's back. She completely freaked out. Taking out the distaff, Hermione attacked Satan as if the instrument were a sword. She shrieked, 'You fiendish creature! Stay away from my husband!'
Satan transformed back to his evil self and renewed his charge. 'Your choice, scrumptious. But I just wanted to set the record straight.'
'That is not true! You murdered my husband!'
'Keep on telling yourself that, if it makes you feel better. But don't think they wouldn't let pass the chance to have a tasty morsel like you warming their sheets.'
'LIAR!'
'Suit yourself,' shrugged him, unfazed. 'I will go now. Perhaps we can talk again when you feel more... accommodating.' He leered at her so ostensibly Hermione shivered in pure disgust.
Then he disappeared in a cloud of foul smoke.
Hermione was angry and seething and crying and grieving, all at once. Her usual cool demeanor had been blown to smithereens.
Those incarnations...! They were all in on this horrendous plan! She felt so betrayed and out of sorts that it took her some minutes just to stop crying and yelling to the Void. Then she struggled to get her bearings in that strange place. Finally, after many more minutes, Hermione could be on her way.
It was not long before the other two aspects woke up and realized something was wrong with her.
I can feel your distress, sister, said Lachesis gently. Did something happen?
'Yes, most definitely,' said Hermione, fuming.
But she never elaborated on that until they reached the Abode. Hermione diligently stored the fibers near the spindle and then asked acidly, 'When were you going to tell me about the conspiracy to kill my husband?'
Atropos detected the underlying anger, We don't understand. We already told you all about Satan's plan to get a soul.
'Well,' said Hermione tensely, 'it seems Satan disagrees with your version.'
The two aspects were alarmed.
You talked to Satan?
When? How?
'He appeared to me in the Void and told me all about your plan to kill Ron!' Her anger was rising again.
Our plan? Is that what he said to you?
Well, it is obviously a lie, Hermione, said Atropos. You can't believe him!
'Why not? It made perfect sense to me!'
What would we gain by killing your husband?, asked Lachesis.
'So you could convince me to take the office and allow use of my body to all male incarnations. Whoring duties, as he said.'
The other two were appalled. This is such a lie!, reiterated Atropos. How could you believe that?
We are women just like you, reminded Lachesis. It would not make any sense for us to conspire in that matter.
'It makes sense, since those duties would befall to me, and not you,' Hermione practically snarled at her.
Oh, my goodness, said Atropos, crestfallen. You believed in him. He is the Father of Lies and you believed him.
'Can you prove they were lies?' challenged Hermione. 'You all said I'd have to be accommodating.'
Lachesis sighed, You have been poisoned by Satan. May I suggest you confront Chronos about it? Talk to him. See if you can get him to tell you the truth.
Hermione was so riled up that her first instinct was to dismiss Lachesis's words. But she realized it actually was a logical suggestion. So she went straight to the Incarnation of Time's home.