Yes! I had a lot of fun writing the last chapter! I know making her an Animagus seems unnecessary now, but it will be useful later on. Also, I guess I should explain the age thing. Time travel is a tricky thing and Hermione's age was effected. I want her to not be too much older than Merlin, but still old enough for him to feel close to her as a younger brother. If I made her, her original age in her twenties, I would end up making her more of a mother figure and I can't replace Hunith! The ages fit their statuses in each other's lives. I hope that cleared things up! Anywho...ENJOY!

"Italics are signing"

Disclaimer: Me no own Harry Potter or Merlin... Got it? Good.

Chapter 5

Years passed and Merlin was fifteen. He had become tall and was finally fitting into the neckerchief. Hermione was supposed to be around the age of twenty three, but she didn't look anywhere close to that age! Hermione guessed that the magic that was used to send her here really screwed up her aging process. She wasn't too worried though. She had been too busy working on a way to make herself and Merlin blood relatives. She wanted to make things official. So she wouldn't be his adopted sister, just his sister. She hadn't told Merlin about it, but she liked to think he'd be excited.

The hard part was finding a way to do the ritual so their magic wouldn't mix. The problem was that she was looking at it all the wrong way. Of course their magic would mix! She just needed to find two similar elements of magic that they shared. She searched book after book and could only come up with one conclusion...both of them had ancient magic inside of them! Hermione spent months thinking about it and reaching out to her magic. In the deep dark corner of her magical core was an unopened box and in that box held ancient magic. Every wizard and witch in her era had it most likely! No one wanted to look for it though. Hermione believed that that was how Dumbledore became to be so powerful...he found the box and opened it. So, when she did the ritual, she would need to open the box and have only the ancient magics mix. Hermione had guessed that it would put her and Merlin in equal power, but hers would still be different. Her magic would still be the evolved form, it would just be mixed with older magic. She didn't know how that would affect her, but she was willing to take the risk. She had researched and researched and found that the ritual would not heal her voice. She had given up hope on that. It was so frustrating when she had a snarky comment and couldn't communicate it. She hated that she couldn't hold long conversations or go on rants about the effects of dragon blood in a potion. It made her so angry and frustrated, but she dealt. She had to remember that she got away lucky. She could breathe, see, hear and had all appendages...'it could be worse' she reminded herself.

Hermione took her thoughts away from the depressing thoughts and got ready for the ritual. She got the ancient tome from Dumbledore's office. She was still amazed that she could get all the books she ever needed. The bookshelf in the cave that Merlin had yet to name, was now full of Hermione's magical books. Merlin read them when he wanted, but he never tried anything in them. He once tried a spell and ended up turning his hair blue. The worst part was, Hermione couldn't fix it. He pouted for a month until it finally turned back. He promised to never try 'Hermione's magic' ever again.

Hermione needed a blade made of goblin silver and a handle of jewels containing the tears of lost men. It was a dagger easy to enchant, but could be used for nasty purposes. When she looked at the description in the book, she had dropped it. She couldn't move, couldn't think or do anything really. She felt pain prickle up her arm and she was bombarded with memories. She couldn't exit the flashbacks. She was reliving her worst nightmare and couldn't run away. She screamed and clawed at her skin so much that it bled. Crookshanks was the one to go fetch Merlin to help his suffering owner. Crooks really hated seeing her in pain. She was found that way by Merlin and she was crying in pain and screaming. She didn't even notice the pain of screaming because everything else was on fire. Her wrists and neck were bloody from her scratching and Merlin wasted no time in rushing over to her. He grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her so she couldn't harm herself. She screamed profanities and begged for mercy. Her eyes were wide open, but completely unseeing. He did all he could think of and pulled her to his chest and held her until she stopped struggling. She kept croaking over and over again, "it hurts. Stop. Please stop. It hurts." He held her to him until she passed out. He set her on the floor under the stars and he cuddled her close to him. The half-kneazle curled up close to his owner and licked her face once, just to tell her he was there and watching. She always made Merlin feel better. It was his turn.

She woke the next morning, clutched in Merlin's arms and a cat by her neck with her throat killing her. She looked into Merlin's worried eyes and began to cry. She didn't want him to see her like that. She went insane over a picture of the dagger. It wasn't just any dagger though. It was the one that caused her so much pain. She was labeled with slander with that dagger. She was carved like a piece of wood with that dagger. Her voice was stolen with that dagger. If she couldn't handle even seeing her torture, how was she going to cut her skin with it? Why of all people did Bellatrix have to own it?

Merlin held her as she cried and comforted her the best she could. Crookshanks was the one to eventually calm her down by placing both paws on her head and tried to cuddle her the best he could. Hermione chuckled and stroked the fur of her loyal companion. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to talk. She croaked and tried so hard to form the words. Merlin shushed her and held her. "Don't apologize. A breakdown was long coming." Hermione shook her head helplessly and clutched her brother and cat as if they were going to disappear. She calmed and removed herself from the two. Crookshanks left the two alone with a final pat on the head. Hermione pointed over to the book and Merlin retrieved it. She turned it to the page with the dagger and let Merlin read it and look at the picture. He gave her a confused looked and she pointed to the scars on her neck and arm. He understood then. He set the book aside and held her arms. He looked into her scared red eyes and kissed her scarred arm. She smiled shakily at him and he smiled back. "You're strong Hermione. It's alright to fear things. It's alright to break down. It's alright to not be alright." Hermione looked at him with such love and emotion. She was so thankful she had him.

She broke down a lot more than he suspected though. Every year on May 2nd, she would seclude herself in the middle of the forest and sit in silence and grieve. She lost everyone that day. People who knew her would think that Harry Potter was her greatest loss, but he wasn't. Her greatest loss was the man named Severus Snape. She wore his scarf everyday to cover her scars, but to also feel closer to him. She didn't love him, heavens no. He trained her, helped her, and had been her friend when Harry and Ron had their moments of pride and left her out. It was ironic though. Her losing her voice and having her neck torn apart. He died having a giant snake tearing at his neck. He would have been living like her if they won the war and he lived. He would be wearing this very scarf, covering his ghastly scars, and losing his soft velvety voice. She idolized him. When he killed Dumbledore, she knew it was the bastard Dumbledore that told him to do so. Snape had tried to push her away so many times, but he never succeeded. He viewed himself as a monster that needed to be isolated and she viewed him as a misunderstood man that need someone to be there for him. So, she was the person to be there for him.

She called forth her solid memories of him and sat in her mindscape with him on that day. She sometimes believed he was actually there and in a sense, he was. She liked to believe that he came down from the spirit world on that particular day, just to see her. The Snape in her mind would tease her for being so emotional and would then hold her because she couldn't stop crying. He would talk to her about studies and she could always talk in her mind. He would commend her on her strength for continuing and told her he was glad she wore his scarf. It was all very heartbreaking for her, but it helped her. She never wanted to let go of his memory and she wouldn't for as long as she could.

She grieved the loss of everyone that day, but she only cried for Severus Snape.

She would read her first year texts on the first of September and sometimes burst into tears. It was a special day that started her on a life adventure, but it was also the start of her sorrow. She was bullied as soon as she entered that school, then was attacked by a troll. That was traumatic for an eleven year old. Then she had Harry and Ron befriend her. They went through the challenges to get the philosophers stone and Hermione started to really respect Snape when she solved his riddle.

She went through many trials in her second year, but gained a mentor in her incident with Polyjuice. Professor Snape her potential in potions and decided to give her extra lessons. Then, she was petrified. When petrified, she was forced to live in her own mind for months. She decided to organize it, protect it and learn it. When she was unpetrified, Professor Snape was there to wake her up and calm her down. She added terrifying yellow eyes to her nightmares of trolls crushing her.

In her third year, nothing much happened to her. Except getting smashed by the whomping willow, facing down a werewolf without wolfsbane and saving a convict and a hippogriff from flying dementors and an angry minister using a time turner! Snape had taught her the Patronus charm her third year and she was so happy for it.

In the fourth year she was shoved in a lake unconscious and was further ridiculed by her "friend" Ron. Only the consoling of Snape could get her to stop raging and setting fire to everything on her path. She was the only one to stand beside Harry in believing he didn't put his name into the goblet of fire and she was still pushed aside when Ron came back to Harry.

Fifth year was the reign of Umbitch, oops, Professor Umbitch. Harry couldn't keep his trap shut in class, so who was there to save him from getting another detention of torture? Her! Whenever he spoke out, Hermione talked over him by saying something more angering to Umbridge that Harry's comments went ignored. She had scars on both her hands from all the detentions she took for Harry, but he never said a thanks. She didn't care though, she was doing it to protect him and he didn't need to notice. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking for weeks and even now she couldn't write anything for long periods of time without pinpricks of pain. They had went to the Department of Mysteries to save Sirius from torture, but he wasn't there. She had gotten her first battle wound in that fight thanks to Dolohov. Sirius had died and she was the emotional support for Harry.

Sixth year was a right terror. Harry had somehow gotten his hands on the text book of the Half-Blood Prince and Hermione was livid. Harry was abusing the notes in the margins that were obviously Snape's and trying spells he didn't even know. She had asked her mentor about it and he told her to get the book back at all costs. He said he had created spells of nightmares in the book and if Harry was going all willy nilly with spells then he was going to injure someone. He did, Malfoy was hit with a Sectumsempra and oh how much Snape wanted to rip Potter's hands off and stuff them down his throat. Hermione eventually got the book back and Snape gave it to her as a gift and said that she would use it responsibly. Then he killed Dumbledore and everything went to hell.

Seventh year was just a blur of torture, horcrux hunts and Ron trying to win her heart. She refused his attempts. No, she didn't hate Ron, but she wasn't the gal for him. Then the battle rolled around and they lost. The Dark Lord triumphed and when she dueled him out of anger, she actually hit him a few times. She was captured after a while and was tortured for the location of the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. She wouldn't give. They gave up questioning her and just tortured her for fun. They stopped calling her Hermione and just nicknamed her the Living Death. Because that's what she looked like, death walking. The rest of the story lead to this moment. She was in the era of the medieval times and a relative to Merlin. Her breakdowns though, they were going to last her lifetime.

After the day when she broke down in front of Merlin, Hermione took a week to relax from her projects and just take a break. After the week was over, she got to work on the ritual again. Merlin made sure he was there with her, but she refused to have her familiar there when she grabbed the dagger out of her bag and held it. It was so spiteful and evil. She couldn't have all that pain and suffering near Crookshanks or Merlin. Her protective instincts kicked in and she rushed her magic into the jewels, the metal, and the entire aura around the weapon. The evil slowly left the dagger and when she opened her eyes, she was left with the most beautiful weapon she had ever seen. The handle was made of gold and had a vine of silver running up the handle. The jewels were still black and sad, holding the the tears of lost men. The blade was shined and still held the goblin magic so it would still work for their use. The blade was hers now. It no longer belonged to the murdering, psychotic bitch that was surely to burn in hell. Merlin was so amazed at the amount of magic she put out and watched the transformation of the blade. It was all so...Hermione. She took something evil and turned it beautiful.

She started carrying it around with her on her belt and kept it close. She treated it like her wand. She had practiced using it and found that she was a natural at throwing it. It was her signature weapon.

She went with Hunith and Merlin to the market one day and when she spotted a man trying to pickpocket her brother, she took the dagger out faster than the eye could see and tripped the man. She had a foot keeping him down and the other held the hand he originally had on Merlin. She had the dagger held to his wrist and silently inspected it. He whimpered beneath her and Merlin walked around her and whispered to the man, "if you value your hand, you'll not try that again." The man nodded quickly and she let him go. He stumbled away as fast as possible and Hermione pocketed her weapon. She looked around and a small crowd had gathered. She rolled her eyes and walked away. She needed to find some materials for the blood ritual. She searched and searched until she found it. A perfectly crafted stone bowl, made with no magic. A bowl that had never touched magic. She had the vendors wrap it in thick fabric before she touched it. She paid only a small price and then went off once again. That was all she could find at the market. She did find some expertly crafted daggers and looked at them dreamily. She loved the art of fighting with them and they were all so beautiful.

She could finally do the ritual on the day of Merlin's sixteenth birthday. She needed to do it at the stroke of midnight in the light of the moon. She would also need to speak the incantation. She knew it would hurt, but she had been practicing talking for longer. She would be alright for it. She lead Merlin out to the forest and headed to a clearing. It was lit by moonlight and bright enough to see everything. She lead him to the center and began to make a perfect circle in bluebell flames contained in jars. She invited him over and he sat in front of her. She signed to him carefully, "I want to make you my blood brother. The ritual I want to perform will make us actual relatives. I know we're relatives now, but this would make it official." Merlin looked excited. "I would love nothing more." She nodded and smiled back. She took out the bowl from her satchel and unwrapped it and there it lay in between them. She set the dagger on the same cloth and took out a clear crystal and set that down too. She looked at Merlin with hesitation and signed, "I will have to carve a symbol into your skin. It should turn into a tattoo after the ritual, but I don't want to hurt you if you don't want to do this." Merlin thought about his choice for a while. He wanted to do this. Merlin responded after a minute, "I want to do this Hermione."

She nodded and picked the dagger up and motioned for him to pull up his left sleeve. He

did so and she took his forearm delicately and held the blade over the point right below the crook of his elbow and began to draw the symbol. He didn't scream, didn't cry, just clamped down his jaw and took the pain. The symbol was simple. Just a circle with a pinprick of a dot in the center. She held his arm over the bowl and let the blood drop into it. Once she was satisfied with the amount, she kissed the wound and it healed. She had Merlin do the same to her arm, but her right one. Once it was healed with his kiss, she took the blade and mixed the blood that was slowly turning the bowl gold. She let a tear drop from her eye and once it touched the crystal, it turned red. She made Merlin do the same and the crystal turned a mix of gold and red. She dropped it in the blood and chanted clearly, "take our tears, take our hearts, and take our souls. Mix them to mix us and let us become one." The bowl shined gold and red and the blood was finally mixed, crystal completely mixed in and disintegrated. Hermione reached for his left hand and took the blood covered blade and sliced a line on his palm. He hissed in pain, but didn't do anything else. She told him to the same thing to her left palm and he did so. The dagger was set aside and Hermione took his hand in hers and aligned the incisions. She felt the connection begin to weave and it was time to use the incantation. She quickly opened the box of ancient magic and it began.

"Under the the stars judging our minds. Under the moon judging our hearts. In the wind judging our souls and the earth judging our life. We combine our blood. We mix our magic. We become...one." Hermione's throat was on fire by the end of it, but she didn't notice because of the blinding silver light that erupted from their combined hands and engulfed them in blinding light. They both felt it. The combining of magic. Her ancient magic twisted with his and seeped into their blood. Her evolved magic was left alone, much to her relief and their forearms burned with searing pain. Neither screamed. The light faded around them and when they opened their eyes, they were both blazing gold. The color faded back to their original red and blue and they both breathed a large sigh. Hermione looked at Merlin's left arm and gasped. An intricate tattoo was printed on his pale skin. It was simple and small, but brought a sense of joy. Two curling lines that met in the middle and hooked around each other. Hermione heard an identical gasp from Merlin and she had the same tattoo on her right arm, right under the crook of her elbow, in the same place as Merlin's. Her and Merlin connected eyes and identically grinned. They were officially blood related. It was like they were born siblings now. Hermione let go of Merlin's hand and vanished the blood left over into a vial she had in her bag and slid her newly washed blade back in her belt. She crumpled up the thick cloth and opened her palms to release a flock of blue butterflies. Merlin gasped when she did the magic and she looked at him questionably. He answered excitedly, "your eyes turned gold! Just like mine do when I do magic!" Hermione smiled and finally stood up. Merlin got up too and they hugged each other. It was nice. To be able to say that they weren't just siblings by adoption, but actual siblings. Hermione whispered shakily to him, "Ha-apy Bir-irthda-ay." Merlin replied lovingly, "thank you."