Hermione gradually became aware that she had no idea where she was.
She'd been in the ley line, hurtling back towards Hogwarts, and she'd thought she'd arrived. She thought she'd made it back, but something was wrong, and she found herself popped out of her bubble into darkness.
Her eyes gradually adjusted somehow, the area seeming to lighten as they did, as if it had never been dark at all. Glancing around, Hermione could see she was in a beautiful, green forest, the grass and trees lush and as vibrant as emeralds.
And there was someone watching her.
The figure was tall, maybe a foot, foot and a half taller than Hermione was. They were tall and slender, and they wore the oddest clothing Hermione had ever seen – it looked like armor, almost, but it looked as if it had been made with leaves – like large leaves had somehow been toughened and strengthened and used to form leather armor. There were shoulder pieces, long sleeves, and even what looked like leggings, all of them looking for the world like they'd been made with plants. As Hermione' eyes traveled back up, she could see the figure had pronounced collarbones, piercing eyes, high cheekbones, and just there, peeping through blond hair pulled back from their face, were delicately pointed ears.
As if aware Hermione was done surveying them, the figure smiled.
"Hello," they said. "May I have your name?"
Hermine swallowed hard, suppressing the fear that suddenly threatened to choke her.
"You may call me Hermione," she said. "What might I call you?"
The figure smiled wider.
"You must be so cold," the figure cajoled. "Why don't you step out of the stream?"
Abruptly, Hermione became aware that she was standing knee-deep in a stream of water, and she instinctively moved to climb out, only to stop short. The water wasn't wet around her – it wasn't water at all, she realized dimly. It was the ley line, a manifestation of magic swirling around her.
"I'd rather stay right here," Hermione said, taking a slight step back further into the stream.
The figure's eyes were bright.
"And you will refuse food if I offer it to you?" the figure asked. "You do not deign to dance?"
"I cannot," Hermione said, fighting to keep her voice from wavering. "I need to go back to school."
The Faerie (for that was what it was, Hermione presumed, what it had to be) sighed deeply.
"Must you, now?" it said plaintively. "You are such an intriguing contradiction, Hermione Jean Granger. Must you go so soon?"
Hermione did not like that the Faerie knew her full name.
"A contradiction?" she echoed.
The Faerie nodded delightedly, clapping its hands.
"You serve Magic in the most delicious of ways," it told her. The Faerie grinned, revealing sharp teeth. "Take Imbolc – you defied nature, using Magic to trespass where man was not meant to go, but you used such a great amount of magic in the creation of a magical being." Bright eyes glittered at her. "Defying the world to help the world – a contradiction, Hermione Jean Granger."
"I helped a couple conceive," Hermione said steadily. "I don't see what's bad about that."
"I said nothing of bad; I said contradictory," the Fae said. "Take your own magic, for instance. You use it contrary to its very nature!"
"I don't know what you mean," Hermione said. "My magic?"
"You assimilated a fire elemental on Yule," the faerie told her, grinning at her, eyes flickering dangerously. "Fire, that evil which destroys potential for nothing. And yet, you do not use your fire to make things burn – you use your magic to fuel your fire, twisting fire around from evil to good."
Hermione said nothing, continuing to watch the faerie warily.
"And today!" the faerie cried. "Today, you cremated your foe – the gravest insult of all! The worst thing one can do to another! And yet, you destroyed dementors – that which is unquestionably the evilest of all. There is a delightful irony in the cremation of that which has no true body, don't you think?"
The faerie quirked a smile at her, and Hermione tried not to tremble.
"Dementors are the most evil?" she asked instead.
"Of course," the faerie said, as if it was obvious. "They do nothing but worsen entropy by consuming the servants that would fight it in the world. They are abomination upon creation."
Hermione bit her lip.
"I really need to get back to school," she begged. "I know time passes differently here, and if I overstepped into the day after Midsummer, I'm sorry, but I didn't mean—"
"Time does," the Fae interrupted, grinning wickedly. "Would you like to know what time it is at your school?"
"I just need to go back," Hermione begged.
The faerie tilted its head.
"It will be amusing to see how you handle yourself," the Fae said, musing. "Will you cloak yourself in truth or more lies? Will you let your passions free, or hide your passions in another lie instead?"
"Please," Hermione pleaded. "Let me go."
"But Hermione Jean Granger, I am not the one keeping you here." The Faerie took a step back, hands open and to the sides, displaying innocence. The Faerie grinned wickedly. "You are the one who will not step from the ley line."
"I need to step back on my side of the line," Hermione protested. "Not your side."
"The lines have closed," the Faerie said. Bright orange eyes glowed at her. "Have you a connection your Magic can use to pull you through? Or are you trapped with me until the lines open again?"
Hope seized Hermione. Immediately sitting down as fully into the stream of magic as she could, she cast her own magic out and through the ley line, sending it out through a thread of her soul to what it was latched onto on the other side.
Her magic caught, and abruptly, Hermione felt herself start to fall through the mist.
"Goodbye, Hermione Jean Granger," the Fae called, waving to her, as if this was an entirely normal parting. "We undoubtedly shall meet again."
Hermione landed on a bed, panting slightly. She could see nothing – her eyes had adjusted to so much light – so much magic, she now realized – that she could see nothing on this side of the ley line yet. Outside, she could hear yelling through a door, someone banging and storming around.
"Hermione?" Blaise's hands on her arms steadied her, though his voice was sleepy. "Hermione, what are you—"
"Hide my pack," Hermione begged. She pulled it over her head and thrust it at the sound of his voice. "I need to—the time's all wrong, I don't know how long I was gone—"
"It's barely dawn," Blaise told her. "Just past four in the morning."
"I was gone for four hours? I was gone four bloody minutes, I thought—"
Despite her eyes struggling to adjust, Hermione's hands flew over the buttons of her robe, and Blaise made a choking sound.
"Hermione, what—"
"I need an alibi," Hermione pleaded him, eyes finally adjusted to see his face in the dim light. "I need a reason I was out of bed tonight. Please, Blaise."
He understood in an instant, taking her robe from her. "Quick. Get under the covers."
Hermione wriggled under the covers of Blaise's bed as he did something with her robes, and he was under the covers a moment later with her, holding her in his arms. Even with her bra on, Hermione could feel Blaise's bare chest pressed against hers, and her face flamed.
She didn't have long to be self-conscious, though – a moment later, the boys' dormitory door burst open.
"Zabini."
Snape's voice was a dangerous hiss, and Hermione cowered as she heard Snape approach the bed.
"Zabini, I know you'll know. Where is Miss Granger—"
The curtains of the four-poster were thrown back, and abruptly, Snape was staring at two students cuddled in bed together.
"Professor Snape," Blaise said, yawning. "Can I help you?"
"I—" Snape seemed lost for words. "Miss Granger was not in her bed—"
"Oh, she's right here," Blaise said, shrugging. He turned back to Hermione with a soft smile, one that made her heart thump, and he ran his hand gently over her curls. "We spent the night together."
Snape's eyes narrowed. "The entire night?"
"Well, that rather depends on if you're going to insist she go back to her own bed, doesn't it?" Blaise said ambivalently, shrugging. "The night's not quite over yet."
"You have been here the entire night," Snape repeated dangerously, his eyes glinting. "She has not left your bed?"
"Well, do you count dashing to the loo for a quick clean-up?" Blaise winced. "Neither of us were sure where we put our wands, and there was—"
"Miss Granger," Snape snapped. "Look at me."
Shaking, Hermione sat up in the bed, clutching Blaise's coverlet to her chest.
Snape's eyes glittered at her. She bravely met his gaze, trembling. His eyes blazed with fire.
"You stupid girl," Snape breathed. "Do you have any idea what you have done?"
"Yes," Hermione said defiantly. "I thought about the future this time, professor. I considered what would happen because of my choices. And then I made my choice."
"You did teach us the contraceptive spell, professor," Blaise chimed in. "Neither of us has any intentions of endangering Hermione's future—"
"Spare me your story," Snape snarled, cutting Blaise off. His eyes blazed at Hermione. "Do you have any idea what the world will think of this?"
"The world doesn't know," Hermione said quietly. She looked down at the blanket, then back up at her professor. "It rather depends on what you choose to tell the world."
Snape stared down at Hermione incredulously for a long moment, Hermione meeting his gaze, pleading. Abruptly, Snape turned sharply on his heel and stormed out of the dorm room, slamming the door behind him.
"Whas'sat?" Draco mumbled sleepily from across the room. "Zabini, what—"
"Go back to bed, Malfoy," Blaise said quietly. "Snape was just confused."
"He didn't—my father—"
"Your father didn't send anything," Blaise said. "Go back to bed."
There was a pause. "Okay."
There was the sound of Draco settling back down into bed, then soft snores as he fell back asleep. Blaise listened carefully, then he turned to Hermione.
"As much as I'd like to keep you in my bed," he told her, with a soft grin, "I think you'd better head back to yours."
Hermione nodded, her throat dry. "I think so."
He reached for her robe, where he'd thrown it over a chair carelessly, as if it had been hastily torn off and thrust aside. "Here."
Hermione pulled on her robe, doing up the buttons slowly. Blaise watched her with hot eyes as she did.
"What did you do, Hermione?" he murmured. "What did you do?"
Hermione shivered.
"If Snape is already on the warpath, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," she said quietly.
"Did you not account for getting caught—"
"I was two seconds too late, and that got me delayed for too long – I had to use the coven bond…"
Hermione stood, pulling her back from under Blaise's bed. She looked at Blaise, shooting him a wordless look of gratitude, and he gave her a soft smile back.
"See you at breakfast," he murmured. "Good luck."
Hermione nodded and slipped out from behind the curtains.
She padded softly across the floor, but as she did, she became aware that there were only three sets of soft snores. She carefully turned back towards the room at the door, looking back into the dormitory.
Theo's eyes peeked out in the darkness, watching her from between the curtains of his own bed.
Hermione swallowed hard, nodded to him, and quickly hurried from the dorm.