"The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity."
Amelia Earhart
I
Hermione was in the library, searching for books on soulmates and astral projection. She had read every book on the subject, but none of them satisfied her. They were all full of divination rubbish, vague and unreliable. The witch wanted something more, something scientific, something magical.
Frustrated, she muttered to herself as she scanned the shelves. "This is useless. All these books are useless. How can I trust these predictions? They are all subjective, all arbitrary, all meaningless. I need facts, I need evidence, I need logic."
Something caught her eye, when she was about to give up. It was a pile of scrolls, hidden behind a dusty tome. She pulled them out, and unrolled them. They were written in a strange language, with symbols and diagrams. Some of them, she recognized, from her studies of ancient runes and arithmancy.
They were written by a renowned Apache shaman, Gouyen, who had studied the secrets of the soul and the spirit. She had written about twin flames, two souls that were created from the same source, and destined to find each other. A surge of excitement and curiosity filled the witch. She had found what she was looking for.
Staying up most nights, trying to decipher the ancient scrolls she had found in the library, had exhausted Hermione. The witch had no energy and no motivation. It got so bad that she couldn't even follow the lectures of her professors, and she barely touched her food. Hermione looked like a zombie, with dark circles under her eyes and pale skin.
Abigail called her an inferi, half-jokingly and half-worriedly. Rebecca had contacted her by owl, sending her a small package. Inside, there was an amulet, a silver chain with a turquoise stone engraved with the same symbols that appeared in her arm. She said it would protect her. Hermione didn't get it, but she wore it anyway, out of gratitude and curiosity.
"Hey, are you okay?" Abigail asked her one night, seeing how tired she was. They were sitting in their dorm room, surrounded by books and papers. Hermione sighed, touching her messy hair. "I'm so exhausted. I don't know how long I can do this." She had been obsessed with finding out the secrets of the scrolls, hoping they would lead her to some answers about her past and her future.
To make things worse, Harry kept trying to contact her by floo network. At first, she tried to tell him that she needed time in Salem to finish her studies, but he didn't get it. He thought she was avoiding him, and he was hurt and angry. She ended up blocking the fireplace, feeling guilty and conflicted.
"Come on, Mione, you've been away too long," Harry's voice was frustrated. He was standing in front of the fireplace, holding a bouquet of roses. He had planned to surprise her with a visit, but she had refused to see him.
Hermione sighed again, "I need to study, Harry. We'll sort this out later, but right now, I have to stay here." Closing the connection, she felt a pang in her heart. She loved him, but her quest for knowledge was also important to her. Torn between two worlds, the brightest witch of her age didn't know what to do.
Struggling with this turmoil, Hermione heard Abigail say, "Mione, your education is important. Don't let anyone get in your way." Her friend was supportive, but she also missed the old Hermione, the one who was cheerful and adventurous.
The muggleborn witch also had started a part-time job at the Hospital Wing, helping to brew potions for the patients. The work was easy and helped her relax. Hermione enjoyed mixing the ingredients and watching the colors and smells change. She felt useful and appreciated.
Agatha Howe, her co-worker, saw her distraction and asked, "Are you okay, Granger? You look stressed." She was a kind and gentle witch, who had a knack for healing. She had taken Hermione under her wing, and taught her some tricks and tips.
Hermione nodded, forcing a smile. "Just some personal stuff, but I'll be fine." She lied, hoping Agatha wouldn't pry. The situation with Harry seemed hopeless, and it weighed on her. She wondered if they would ever be together again, or if they would drift apart. She wondered if she had made the right choice, or if she had lost the best thing in her life.
It was a late night in the laboratory, where a Lumina's Lucidum elixir simmered on the fire. The potion required skill and patience to brew, and it promised to illuminate and clarify the hidden messages of dreams. Hermione was so focused on her task that she didn't notice Draco Malfoy entering the room. He cleared his throat, making her jump. "What are you doing here, Granger?" he asked, his voice cold and harsh.
The witch sighed, feeling annoyed. She and Draco had been paired up to work that night, but he had been nothing but rude and unhelpful. Hermione wondered why he was even there, since he usually avoided her. "I'm finishing the potion, Malfoy. What does it look like?" she snapped back.
Draco rolled his eyes, walking towards her. "Don't get snippy with me, Granger. I'm here to check on your progress. And by the way, you're doing it wrong. You need to add more moonflower petals, not silver mist." He reached for the ingredients, but Hermione slapped his hand away.
"Don't touch anything. I know what I'm doing. And stop calling me Granger. My name is Hermione." She glared at him, feeling frustrated.
The wizard smirked, leaning closer to her. "Oh, so we're on a first-name basis now, are we? Well, then, Hermione, let me tell you something. You're wasting your time with this potion. It won't help you with your dreams."
Hermione gasped, feeling a chill down her spine. How did he know about her dreams? The dreams that had been haunting her for weeks, the dreams that made her question her sanity. The dreams in which she was Mercy, a witch in Salem, and he was Tristan, one of the descendants of Isolt Sayre.
She looked at him, her eyes wide with shock. "How do you know about my dreams?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Draco's expression changed, becoming serious and somber. He looked away, as if ashamed. "Because I have them too, Hermione. But I'm not Mercy. I'm Tristan."
He lifted his sleeve, showing her his arm. In the place where the Dark Mark used to be, there were now strange symbols, glowing faintly. The witch recognized them, feeling her heart skip a beat. They were the same symbols that she had on her arm, the ones that appeared after her dreams started.
She touched his arm, feeling a jolt of electricity. She looked into his eyes, seeing a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What does this mean, Draco? Why are we having these dreams? What are these symbols?" she asked, her voice full of questions.
Draco shook his head, pulling his arm away. "I don't know, Hermione. I don't know anything. But maybe we can find out. Come on, let's go to the library. Maybe there's a book that can help us."
He grabbed her hand, leading her out of the laboratory. Hermione followed him, feeling a surge of hope. Maybe they could solve this mystery, maybe they could understand their connection. Maybe they could stop arguing and start working together.
The two arrived at the library, searching for a book that could explain their situation. In a dusty corner, they discovered a heavy tome adorned with Proto-Sinaitic runes on the cover. Hoping to find answers, they opened it and spent hours translating the symbols into Elder Futhark. The translation unveiled that the symbols represented Eiwaz, Thurisaz, and Inguz.
"Look," Hermione said, pointing at the page. "These are the same symbols we have on our arms. They are archaic runes, ancient magical symbols, and they possess meanings."
Draco leaned in, examining the book. He felt a peculiar mix of curiosity and apprehension. "What do they mean?" he asked in a low voice.
The witch researched the meanings of the runes, experiencing a jolt of realization. Eiwaz signified the tree of life, death, and regeneration. Thurisaz symbolized overcoming obstacles, a symbol of protection. Inguz represented a seed, a symbol of potential and true love. Collectively, they held great power, something magical. Something that connected them across time and space.
Hermione gazed at him, sensing a new emotion. Not anger, annoyance, or hatred. Something else, something deeper. Something she couldn't quite identify, but felt in her heart. She smiled, reaching for his hand. He smiled back, gently squeezing her hand. They felt a bond, a connection.
"I don't understand," Malfoy said, his eyes gleaming. "What does this mean? Why are we having these dreams? Why are we connected?" She shrugged, a surge of hope washing over her. "I don't know. But maybe it's something positive."
Draco nodded, a flicker of trust emerging. "Perhaps you're right. We should give this a chance and attempt to work together." Hermione nodded, "Maybe we should."
They leaned closer, sensing a new spark igniting within their souls. But then he seemed to snap back to reality, abruptly releasing her hand. "Wait, what am I doing?" Draco's voice turned cold and harsh. "This is wrong. This is a mistake. You're a mudblood, and I'm a pureblood. You mean nothing to me, and I mean nothing to you."
Hermione gasped, feeling a sharp pang of pain. Malfoy hurriedly left the library, a twinge of regret piercing him. He left her alone. It took a long time for her to see him again, and he began avoiding her even more. She wondered if it had all been a dream. Harry's calls left her even more bewildered.
Rebecca arrived, casting a shadow of uncertainty over Hermione's life. She spoke of the moon spirit's repeated warnings, causing the young witch to hesitate. Though she had stopped dreaming, she hadn't mentioned Draco's absence to her. With a tinge of fear, she confessed, "I'm afraid he loves someone who no longer exists. Perhaps he only cares for the version of me that appears in his dreams."
Intrigued, Rebecca decided to share a story about her mother. The old witch revealed, "My mother possessed the rare gift of being an oracle among wizards. She belonged to a powerful sorcerer's coven. However, she fell in love with a werewolf who desired to run away with her. Yet, her own family frightened her."
Curiosity piqued, Hermione inquired, "What happened next?" Rebecca continued her tale, explaining, "The son of the coven's leader, who was destined to marry my mother, discovered her relationship with the werewolf. He ended up killing him."
Hushed, the younger witch whispered, "How tragic." The seer continued, "My mother eventually married the leader's son and bore me, but she faced immense hatred from others. They labeled her a traitor. After I was born, she couldn't bear the pain of losing her soulmate, so she took her own life. When I grew older and discovered the truth, I fled."
Deeply moved by Rebecca's heartbreaking account, Hermione nodded empathetically and expressed her gratitude, saying, "Thank you for sharing that with me." She offered the witch to side along apparate, but the seer declined due to her belief that apparating in nights of full moon inhibited her third eye. Skeptical, Hermione agreed to drive despite the impending snowstorm. With a small smile of appreciation, the elderly woman accepted Hermione's kind gesture.
As they ventured through the darkness on treacherous, icy roads, they engaged in conversation. Hermione disclosed, "During my time at Hogwarts, I knew a werewolf named Remus Lupin. He fell in love with Tonks, a skilled metamorphmagus." Upon arriving at her house, Rebecca insisted, "You should stay here tonight."
However, Hermione had an important test the next day and needed to study. Then, she made the decision to return home, despite the radio's warning of an approaching snowstorm. The journey back seemed manageable, but the weather quickly deteriorated. Blinding snow and fierce winds obscured her vision, causing her to lose control of the car. It careened down a hill and crashed, marking a sudden and unexpected end to her ill-fated drive.
Hermione woke up in pain, feeling like a thousand needles were piercing her lungs. She tried to breathe, but every breath was a struggle. She opened her eyes, and saw a blurry white ceiling. She heard a faint beeping sound, and felt something cold and metallic on her chest. She looked down, and saw wires and tubes attached to her body. She was in the hospital wing. She felt a warm hand holding hers, and turned her head to see who it was. "Hermione."
The voice was familiar, but it took her a moment to recognize it. It was Draco, and he looked pale and worried. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying. He told her about the accident, his voice trembling. "That night, I felt something was wrong. I had a bad feeling, a premonition. I rushed to Salem Institute. I found you unconscious. You had sent a patronus to Abigail, your roommate, asking for help. She said you were driving home with some muggle device, a car, and it crashed. You were badly burned, and you had shrapnel in your chest. I thought I was going to lose you again."
He said it with such anguish, such guilt, that she wanted to comfort him. But then, he changed his tone, and became angry. "How could you be so stupid? How could you trust these muggle contraptions? You are a witch, for Merlin's sake, not a muggle. You don't need these machines, you have magic."
Hermione was shocked, and hurt, by his words. She felt a surge of anger, and pulled her hand away from his. She shouted at him, calling him a jerk, a liar, a coward. "How dare you, Malfoy? How dare you say those things to me? You are the one who is stupid."
They glared at each other, their eyes full of hate. But then, something broke in Draco's face. He looked away, and she saw tears falling down his cheeks. He sobbed, and said he was sorry. "I didn't mean any of it, I swear. I was just scared and angry. It's all my fault. I was so blind, so prejudiced. I should have protected you."
The witch felt a pang of pity, and regret, for him. She realized he was just lashing out, because he was afraid of losing her. Hermione reached out, and took his hand again. She pulled him closer, and hugged him. "It's okay, Draco. It's okay. I forgive you. It's not your fault. It's not my fault. It was just an accident. What matters is that we are together, now." Life had changed her again, but this time, she hoped it was for the better. This was a new start, and for once, she wasn't alone.