The Black Lake Chapter 7, a harry potter fanfic

The Black Lake

"Between you and me, Ginevra, I do enjoy a good story. Have you ever read the fairytale about a Mermaid?"

Tom reached out to her shocked wet face, stroking her. A leer was on his features, his eyes moving across her lips that were gasping for air, her hair wet from lake water.

He took her hand, coaxing her into the water, "Wait for me... Wait for me in the lake. Do not come until I call." Tom flashed her his most handsome smile. "Go. Go hide, little one."

Against her will, her body moved further into the lake. Tom lingered for a few moments watching her before he walked toward the hill. As he reached the far end of the shore, he looked back at her and nodded. Her dark brown eyes watched him until her Mermaid body took her further beneath the surface and she could no longer see the shore.

Completely under the water, she allowed herself to sink into the liquid depths. The dark of night was more intense beneath the surface, and the deep cold surrounded her. She hardly felt it...

Tom never came. Hours stretched into days. Time passed right over her, and the more time that passed, the more Ginny began to forget. And then one day, she forgot everything.

Chapter 7

He never thought he'd come back.

Ron Weasley stood silently in the familiar field, staring up near the horizon. The sun was beginning its descent, giving the landscape a golden glow. A gentle breeze moved across the ground, ruffling the grass. A few birds chirped in a tree ahead, settling down for the day. It was a scene serene enough to belong in a painting- save for one jarring detail. Interrupting the picturesque field was a blackened and disheveled mess that was once a home.

Ron stared. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. When the Burrow had been attacked so long ago, he hadn't been there. He hadn't wanted to see what had been done to his home. And when it was all over- despite Hermione's encouragement- he had still stayed away. It was a painful thing in the back of his mind that silently nagged away at him.

It wasn't his home- not anymore. There was only destruction and silence. The roof of the multi-level home had partially collapsed, but two walls on the sides were still upright, blackened from the smoke. The only thing left of the chicken coop was an unrecognizable pile of charred rubble. The windows held onto a few bits of broken glass. Bits of brick and wood lay scattered about. The garden was overgrown. The pond was filthy. The shed his father had spent years tinkering around in was destroyed, rubbish littering the ground where it had once stood. It was surprising to find anything standing at all, given the viciousness of the attack and the determination that the Death Eaters had to destroy all the Weasleys held dear. The Burrow had been their refuge- a beacon of safety for all Weasleys and Order members alike. The warmth and comfort this place had offered Ron for so many years was notably absent, as was the smiling face of his mother that he had been so used to seeing in the kitchen window. There was no laughter, no suspicious explosions from the twin's room, no pompous declarations from Percy. Even the garden gnomes seemed to have abandoned the property. Blowing out a heavy breath, he steeled himself and walked slowly towards what was left of his childhood home.

Almost an hour later, the tall redhead exited through the blown-out door from which he had entered, white-faced. Clutching something gently in his arms, he gingerly wrapped it within his cloak.

With one last look at the remains behind him, the last living Weasley son Apparated away with a crack.

Hermione was horridly late.

Wrapping her cloak tightly around her, she began making her way from the apparition point towards her flat. She tried to empty her head from the thoughts of work as she walked in the dark. Reports and numbers could wait until tomorrow. Ron had asked her about dinner, and she had felt guilty working late- which wasn't often. But she was nearly an hour late this time, and the dark of night had already settled.

Successfully emptying her head of work, thoughts of what to do for dinner now filled her head as she neared her front door. Hermione knew she was no Molly Weasley when it came to cooking, but she did her best to make sure Ron wasn't sustaining on rubbish food. Stories of what Aurors subsisted on when on the job would have Molly turning in her grave. The thought made Hermione pause as she reached for the door handle.

Had it really been more than a year?

Shaking the thought from her head, she opened the door. Shrugging off her satchel and cloak, she hung them in the entryway and walked into the living area, expecting to see Ron lounging with a bag of crisps. Moving her brown curls out of her face, she paused at what she saw. The living area lamps were lit, giving the flat a cozy, nighttime glow. Ron was in his usual spot on the settee, but it was his odd stance that caught her eye. He was sitting stiffly, his back straight and unmoving. The unnatural stance immediately filled her with unease.

"Ron," Hermione said softly, moving to sit next to him. He didn't look at her as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What is it? Is everything alright?"

Ron relaxed a bit at her touch, then nodded once. This did little to ease Hermione's worry. It was then that she noticed his cloak on the coffee table, wrapped around an object. Ron was staring intently at it, his mouth in a thin line.

Hermione gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "What's this, love?" she asked, nodding towards the cloak. Ron bowed his head and sighed. He raised his hand, making a vague gesture towards the table. Taking this as permission, Hermione gave him one more squeeze before reaching towards the cloak and unwrapping it.

"Oh, my..." Hermione breathed out as the fabric of his cloak fell away. "Is this-?" Without finishing her question, she placed the object reverently in her lap. Her fingers traced aged and worn wood. "I can't believe it survived."

The most precious possession of Ron's mother- the Weasley family heirloom- lay in her lap. The glass of the clock face was broken. The wood was chipped away and horribly blackened on one side. Though the names looked slightly warped from heat, they were still clearly legible. Hermione stared down at the names of Ron's family, tears immediately springing to her eyes. Ron's name, separated from the rest of his family, pointed to 'Home.' The sight made her heart swell. She loved this man. Despite what he had lost- what they both had lost- they were together, they were a family, and this really was home.

"What on earth..." Hermione's brow furrowed as she peered closer to the family clock, blinking to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her. She turned to Ron, who was now looking at her. "I don't understand," she said, searching his face for answers. She held the heirloom towards Ron, trying valiantly not to let her emotions get the best of her. "This could only mean- but that's simply not possible..." She trailed off. For once in her life, the answers eluded her, and she found herself quite dumbstruck. Ron stared back at her with a closed expression, but she could see the wariness underneath the mask.

"Hermione," He held out a hand and placed it on her own, giving her a soft squeeze. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Some years ago, a Mermaid surfaced."

Queen Merneith spoke softly, her words carrying reverently through the water. Hey eyes were distant as she spoke, reflecting a deep pain. Íde was very still, the gentle currents of the lake moving her locks of red hair around her face as she listened. The words of the wizened Mermaid were deep and laced with sorrow. "On this day," she continued, "she met a wizard. The wizard was curious, he asked about the Merpeople. He spoke with the Mermaid about how unfairly our people were being treated by the ministry. He said he wanted to help. He spoke about changes he wanted to make, so that all magical creatures and beasts would be treated with dignity and respect. He seemed to want to help." The Queen bowed her head for a moment, and when she lifted her face back up, it was hardened in anger. "But the Mermaid was deceived- for the wizard was nothing more than a twisted snake." The Queen's hands fisted. "The wizard was dark- the darkest the Mermaid had ever seen. He confronted her, told her she must use her people to wage war, to spill blood. When she refused to align her people with the darkness- to fight for him- he killed her. With her death, he then placed a curse on her people- My people." The anger in her face softened again into grief. "Since that day, we have been living in sorrow from the curse, and it will one day bring our complete destruction."

Íde's insides tightened, an odd sort of loss panging through her. "That's horrible," she whispered.

The Queen sighed, one hand clenching her staff. Her shoulders visibly fell, the weight of her words pulling them down. Íde suddenly wished she could wrap her arms around her, alleviate some of the heaviness that so blatantly hung around her. The Queen composed herself with a barely perceptible shake of the head. Her eyes cleared, and she turned to Íde. She moved next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Look," she said softly, and her gaze moved back to the village. "Look closely."

Tearing her eyes away from the Mermaid, Íde peered down at the village. Soft lights cast a gentle glow below. The Merpeople bustled about as the day was winding to a close. The village looked no different than it did any other day. It was a gentle commotion of activity. She saw trading of goods, greetings of friends, and work and cultivation of a plentiful lake bottom. All seemed to show a thriving society. It was beautiful, really.

"What do you see?" the Queen asked, breaking her out of her observation. "Or, perhaps, tell me what you don't see."

Íde watched the Merpeople carefully. They seemed a happy people. Obviously they were well off, and the village seemed to want for nothing. And yet, there was something subdued about them, a certain quiet in the murmurings of their comings and goings. After a few moments more of studying, a glaring absence became suddenly obvious.

"Youth," she whispered. "There are no youth." She paused, shaking her head at the realization. "No babies, no little ones. There is no new life... everyone is grown... I never noticed before. Why didn't I ever..." She trailed off, her frustration once again beginning to mount painfully. The Merpeople all appeared much older than herself.

"That is right," the Queen said mournfully, interrupting Íde's racing thoughts. She eyed her sideways, contemplative. "The curse is a slow growing one. Slow, but deadly nonetheless. We grow and age under the curse, but there have been no younglings for many long years- Years that have filled my people with sorrow and loss." Queen Merneith clutched her staff tightly, eyes narrowing. "We are forced to go on, forced to watch, as the end of all grows closer every day. With each passing year, my people will continue to age, and I will continue to age, until one by one we will pass into the beyond. One by one, we will die, until none are left, and the lake will only be a memory of a once great people."

Íde heart plummeted to her feet. An image of the lake completely devoid of Merpeople, sprang to her mind. Empty villages only holding dilapidated huts and long forgotten possessions littering the lake floor. The people who had been good and kind to her, gone forever. Íde felt a burning in her chest.

"We can't let that happen."

She looked at the Queen, wanting to say more but not knowing nothing she could do or say could possibly be of comfort. The Queen turned back to her people, pensive, her yellow eyes sorrowful. Íde swam close as she dared to the Mermaid, looking up into her face.

"Please," Íde begged, "We can't just let everyone disappear." Her blood pumped with determination. "You said that I could break the curse. Isn't that what you said? It was, wasn't it? Let me help, my Queen. I will do whatever you need me to. What must I do? Tell me, and I'll do it, I swear-"

The Queen raised a hand, cutting her off.

"You will swear no such things," she said harshly, "Do you understand me? Do not make any promises just now."

"But, why not?" Íde asked incredulously. Her hands came to her head in frustration. She was more confused than ever. The Queen seemed content to provide her with more questions than answers, and she felt like they were talking in circles. "Please, I want to help-"

"Not yet," Queen Merneith interrupted firmly, "There is more you must know."

"Then tell me!"

"I cannot give you all the answers."

"Why not?"

"We must tread carefully down this path- it is a dangerous one. Some answers I will give you. Others, I cannot because I do not know. And some things-" she looked at her pointedly, "have answers you already know. You already know more of the truth than you realize-"

"If I already knew, then why would I ask?"

"-Other questions must wait because you are not ready."

Íde's jaw fell open.

"Not- not ready?"

"Yes," the Queen answered calmly. "Knowledge can be both a wonderful and terrible thing. Your answers must come with caution, because they will come at a price. If you are not prepared- if you are not ready- I fear the answers you seek would do more harm than good."

Íde's eyes flashed, and she felt the blood rise to her face in anger. All she could see was everything her heart was seeking dangled before her, just out of reach. Taunting her.

"Not ready?" she snarled bitterly, choking on the disgust she felt. "You think I'm not ready to hear you tell me the truth? To hear anyone tell me the truth? Instead of what, exactly? Things you've been hiding from me? Lies? Not ready- what does that even mean? This is my life we are talking about!" Íde's hands clenched in anger. A dam inside her had broken, and hot boiling rage at the unfairness of everything was swirling out of control.

Before she could stop herself- before she could think about the potential consequences- she was shouting, unleashing her fury on the Queen of the Merpeople, pointing at her with an accusing finger.

"What gives you the right to tell me what I am and am not ready for? Why are you doing this? Why won't you explain anything to me? You are treating me like- like a child. You've told me nothing. Nothing! Just these... infuriating clues and riddles, and I don't understand any of it. I'm asking simple questions- simple things about my own life, about who I am. Don't you know what this is doing to me? It is tearing me apart. I know it's not just you. I see how the others look at me, how everyone seems to know and seems to understand. But not me. Never me. I alone am kept in the dark. This is the worst sort of torture."

Íde's hands went into her hair, growling in frustration. Her eyes squeezed shut, her head beginning to throb painfully.

"Sometimes I feel like... like I don't know if I'm awake or asleep. Like I might be dreaming things. I don't know if minutes or days have passed. Sometimes I'm not even sure what is real anymore. Down here, everything makes sense. Or at least it used to. But then when I go to the surface..."

You know you don't belong down there...

"It all seems so wrong now," she continued in a desperate whisper, "whether I'm down here or up there, it's all wrong..." She trailed off, her head giving another painful pound. "My mind is playing tricks on me. I- I feel so confused all the time, and it's getting worse. Things that made sense before, don't make sense anymore. It's like I'm getting thoughts and feelings that aren't my own, but I know they are... and suddenly it's like I'm a different person, or like I've been asleep, and I'm waking up not knowing how I got here. When I try to make sense of it, a storm builds inside me. The harder I try to make sense of things, the bigger it grows, pulling me apart. Even now, my head wants to make sense of it all, but I can hardly think from the pain." Íde couldn't hold back a choked whimper of pain. Between her throbbing head and the tightening in her chest, she wondered if she could even continue the conversation.

"I-I feel like I'm going mad."

"The veil is lifting."

Íde's eyes snapped open- headache forgotten.

"What is the veil? Why does everyone keep saying that? Just tell me what that means!"

The Queen grasped her staff with both hands, looking calmly at Íde with a tilt of her head.

"Of all the questions you have little one, why are you not asking the ones you truly want to?"

"You wouldn't even tell me if I did!"

"Then ask me."

"I don't-"

Íde paused, her hands up mid-fury. Dozens of questions rattled around inside her, but only one rose to the surface, the others falling away into the depths of her mind. If she was really honest with herself, there was only one that truly mattered. Ask her. Ask her the question. Just do it

She opened her mouth, but the words seemed to catch in her throat.

"This question," the Queen said gently, "has an answer that you both desire and fear above all else."

Íde felt the storm inside her halt its assault. Desire. Fear. She could not deny this. Íde's head fell to her chest in shame at the truth in her words. She felt her anger seep out of her. As it did, her angry stance before the Queen fell away, and she allowed herself to sink to the ground. For a moment, she sat in stillness, letting the gentle currents move her long hair, and flutter through her tail. One hand fell to the ground where she sat sideways. She felt the smooth silty sand beneath her fingers. Her other hand moved to her hair, slowly moving the long red locks out of her face, tucking it behind her ear as she allowed herself to calm. The hand moved to her neck, clutching her keshi pearl to keep her fingers from trembling.

Do not be afraid.

Her dark eyes fluttered closed, remembering Harry's encouraging voice. She took a deep, cleansing breath- cool water moving within her and around her.

It will be alright.

"You are right," she spoke softly, "I have been afraid. I still am, I suppose. And yet, I know, if I don't move forward, it will only grow until it consumes me. I can't be afraid of the answer any longer."

"That is a brave thing to admit," the Queen smiled down at her, "and I commend you for it. You have many questions, and this pleases me. You will understand in time. But for now, I know there is one question you need answered more than anything else. It is also more important than anything else. It is the key to it all- it is the burning question."

Íde's body tensed, her heart pounding in her throat. This was it- she would finally know. Finally...

Who am I?

The Queen looked away, her face tightening slightly in what looked like regret.

"It is the one question you cannot ask me, Íde."

"What?!"

Íde wanted to scream, feeling like she had just been slapped. She forced down her dear, allowing the burning question to rise up within her, and with the Queen's last words, it had been punctured and crushed. Tears sprung to her eyes that instantly became lost to the lake water, and she could not stop her lip from quivering.

"Why not?" She demanded, wiping her already wet eyes. "Tell me why not!"

"You must not think me cruel," The Queen said gently, "I do not do this to cause you pain. And it is not because I do not think you are ready, or because I choose not to tell you. I cannot give you the answer because I do not know."

She didn't know. The Queen didn't know. The one thing Harry had sent her down here to find out...

The anticipation Íde had been feeling- of finally getting answers, of completing a piece to the puzzle, of settling the turmoil inside her- evaporated. As her heart and body sank, she became acutely aware of the water pushing down on her with cold hands of despair. The sudden loss left behind a great, consuming emptiness, and it clamped down violently on her heart. Íde's face fell to her hands. Her shoulders shook as wracking sobs overcame her, drowning in the hopelessness she now felt.

She would never know who she really was. She would never know where she truly belonged. She would never connect the fractured pieces within her. Never whole. Forever broken.

She wished Harry was with her.

She was seized with the urgent need to go to him, to be with him. She wanted to abandon the Queen without another word and swim to the surface as fast as her tail could take her. She longed to see his startling green eyes that sparkled when he looked at her, was desperate to hear his deep, kind voice. She wanted the grotto- their grotto. She needed Harry to hold her, needed to feel his lips in her hair while he whispered soothing words. She wanted him to dry her tears, to smile and tell her everything would be alright. She wanted to take comfort in the circle of his strong arms, his warm hands on her cool skin. She wanted the solace and peace she found in his touch- something that seemed to exist nowhere else but with him. Down here was only cold water and emptiness and unanswered questions. Up there- with him- was warmth and sunlit days and stories and smiles and...

Harry would know what to do. He was always so sure of things, always saw everything so clearly. He had been so sure she would find all the answers down here. And a part of her- hidden deep down- had dared to believe him.

How could she face him now when she had failed him?

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, startling her out of her sobs. Íde looked up to see the Queen smiling sadly at her.

"Do not cry, little one," the Queen spoke softly, soothingly. "I do not mean to cause you sorrow."

"But you can't help me." Íde shook her head miserably, "No one can."

"You know that is not true," She reached out, moving a lock of red hair away from Íde's face. "I may not be able to answer your burning question, but there are others that I can." The Queen looked into Íde's eyes, her face soft and warm. Loving, even. It was a look so foreign to see on the regal Mermaid's face- a face that was so often tense and unreadable. "I was never able to have younglings. I, like many of my people, fell childless, never knowing the love of mothering." Her hands moved to Íde's face, holding her gently, the fingers of one hand caressing her cheek. "But then you came into my life, and I was forever changed. You were a glimmer of hope in a dark place, a surge of light in the blackness. My sweet Íde, since that day, you have been my cherished one."

One of Íde's hands came up, gently placing itself on the Queen's hand, and for a moment, words failed her. The Queen had always seemed to observe her from afar, always kind, but never close. Never familiar. Or had she been?

Her Queen shows her favor, and she shows nothing but disrespect in return.

"I'm sorry," Íde said guiltily, "I never realized..."

"That is not your fault," the Queen reassured her, "It could not be helped. But now you see, and I swear to you now, that I will do all in my power to help you. You are precious to me, and I will do all I can to give you the answers that you seek. But you must trust me, Íde. You may learn things you will not like- terrible things. But you must believe me, that all I have done was because I care for you. Can you do that? Can you trust me?"

A lump rose in Íde's throat, and all she could do was nod.

The Queen smiled. "You will find your way, little one. Of that, I am sure. You will find your way home."

At the Queen's last word, Íde felt a prickling in the back of her mind. A lock was trying to snap open but was failing, unable to slide into place.

"Home," she repeated back, looking unseeing out into the water. She tried to think on it more, but her mind began to wander, lost in the currents and becoming muddled again.

"Íde," the Queen said, bringing her back. "Do you know where home is?"

"Home?" She repeated flatly. She gave her head a small shake, trying to disperse some of the fuzziness.

Home.

"Here of course," Íde murmured. "Right here with you. This is my home..." Even as the sentence left her, it felt... wrong. But how could that be wrong? She had lived here as long as she could remember. The Queen was looking at her expectantly, silently, her yellow eyes searching.

Some answers you already know.

Íde's brow furrowed, and she fought to stay focused, to keep the fuzziness of her mind at bay.

Home.

She doubled over as her head erupted in pain, barely able to keep the word at the forefront of her mind. Voices and thoughts swirled and fought within her, assaulting her senses.

Home...

Here, of course. Right here with you.

You're different from the others...

This is my home.

And you show nothing but disrespect...

Eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched, her hands clutching her head, Íde moaned in pain. She wasn't sure if she was dying or finally slipping into madness, but it hardly seemed to matter at the moment, it was too much, and she knew she wouldn't last much longer. Crumpled in a heap on the lake bottom, she didn't know if the Queen was still with her, all she could do was bite down on her lip to keep from crying out.

Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!

She was no longer aware if her eyes were open or closed- only that choking black cloud had her in its clutches.

"Help me," she pleaded weakly, not knowing if anyone could hear her. She felt consciousness slipping away.

Don't be afraid...

Harry's voice pierced the churning battle in her mind- a lifeline in her agony- and she clung to them with all she had left.

The truth is right in front of you...

Home is here.

You're just afraid to look at it...

Home is here.

... refuse to admit it...

Home is here.

...refuse to see it...

Home is here.

But it's the truth...

Home is here.

You don't belong here in the lake...

Home is here.

You've got to find the truth out for yourself...

Home is here.

You don't belong with the Merpeople.

Home is here...

Somewhere deep down, you KNOW it.

Home is...

You KNOW it.

Home...

You know you don't belong here!

"NO!"

Just as the strangled cry left her lips, something in her mind finally broke free, and shifted into its proper place with a click.

This is not my home.

The assault stopped. The pain abated. A clarity crept into her mind slowly, like sunlight peeking through dark clouds. In the stillness, Íde dared open her eyes. Sitting up gingerly on her side, she placed a hand on her chest, feeling the hammering of her heart. "No..." She repeated, whispering the words to herself. "No, that isn't right. I can feel it isn't right."

With a start, she realized the Queen was still next to her, looking anxious.

"What isn't right, Íde?"

"This..." Íde gestured shakily around her, still reeling from her shock, "This is not my home." Even as the words escaped her lips, she knew them to be true. "How is that possible?" Her head threatened to throb again. "I live here, I was born here-"

"Were you?"

"Was I?"

The Queen stared at her a long moment, looking an odd mixture of tense excitement. Íde stared right back. Her head ached, but it was nothing compared to the agony only a few minutes ago. She absentmindedly rubbed her temples. Would the answers always be this painful?

"Do you know what your name means, Íde?" the Queen asked, her yellow eyes bright.

"My name?" She repeated dumbly, looking up at her.

The corners of the Queen's mouth twitched.

"Yes, your name. Do you know what it means?"

Íde paused before slowly shaking her head. The Queen gave a wry smile.

"Many believe your name is from the Mermish word for water. A common word, but still fitting."

Íde only shrugged. Her head was beginning to pound again.

"Fitting as it is, that is not why I chose this name for you," the Queen was suddenly very serious again. "This name has another, much older, meaning. It is from a dialect we no longer use. This other meaning, this older meaning, is why I chose it for you."

Íde could feel her heart pounding in her ears. The Queen leaned down closer, her face close enough to see the dark eyelashes surrounding her yellow eyes.

"It means, 'one who is lost.'"

"Oh, hello."

Once again, Harry was surprised with a visitor at his office door. Truth be told, he much preferred to communicate by owl. His godfather had always been the talkative and outgoing one, always ready for a chat and easily delving into small talk. Harry, on the other hand, found that he struggled with a bit of shyness around people he did not know- something Sirius had said he had inherited from his mother.

But don't let that fool you, Sirius had said with a barking laugh, once Lily got to know someone, it was like she was another person. Very spirited, full of wit, and quick to hex if you pissed her off.

Harry was the last person to say he was anything spirited or full of wit, that inheritance had yet to manifest itself in his opinion. Yet, the shyness remained. And- if anything- had been made worse by the constant reminder from his youth not to trust anyone. This was especially true for people who showed up unannounced at the door.

Like right now.

Perhaps Hogwarts alumni were eager to take any excuse to visit the grounds, he thought, or perhaps he was just so terrible at communicating by owl that people felt they needed to see him person. Either way, he was once again surprised at the visitor, and he wasn't sure if this was a pleasant surprise or not.

"What can I do for you, Hermione?" He asked the brunette carefully.

Was she here to hex him? Yell at him for upsetting Ron? Tell him he was absolutely insensitive for trying to convince him that his long thought dead sister had actually never died and was a Mermaid in a lake? Probably. Or maybe she was here to try to take him to St. Mungos and see a mind healer.

Because really, the whole thing did sound mad. He couldn't blame her.

But, she was smiling in a friendly manner. Though she was wearing her ministry robes, looking prim with her hair pulled back, she looked almost... cheerful. Her wand was not drawn, so he seemed to be safe from at least a few of those options for a moment.

"Hello, Harry," she greeted kindly.

Relaxing a bit, Harry gestured inside his office. "Would you like to come in?"

"Oh, no," She said with a smile, "I've only a moment, but erm-" She clasped her hands together, "It's just we- that is, Ron and I- were hoping you might join us for tea tonight."

That had not been at all what he had been expecting.

"Tea?" He replied automatically, "Oh."

Harry's surprise must have shown on his face, because Hermione jumped right in.

"I know we are springing this on you at the last minute," she said somewhat unsurely, "and I know you are probably terribly busy, but I think you'll understand. There is something we need to talk to you about, something quite important, actually."

Harry ran hand across his face, thinking of his last encounter with Ron. It was an experience he hadn't hoped to repeat anytime soon.

"Hermione," his shoulders slumped, "that's very kind and all, but I don't know if that's a good idea-"

"Oh, but you must!" She spoke quickly. Excitedly. "Ron needs to speak with you, about what the two of you talked about before."

Oh.

"That's really not necessary," he said, thinking how awkward tea would be if she was just going to force Ron to apologize, "I was out of line-"

"No!" she interrupted, "No, it's not that. Well, I mean, of course Ron should apologize- storming off on you and all that- but that isn't, well, exactly what he needs to talk to you about. There have been some- well I don't really know how to put it- new developments. We would really like to discuss them with you. Tonight. It can't wait."

The word bossy flitted across his mind, and he remembered a sloshed Ron giving the word to describe her. It certainly seemed to fit, but in addition, he found himself not arguing with her commanding tone.

"Okay. Yes. Fine. Wait- what developments? Is everything alright?"

"Perfectly," Hermione said, with a clap of her hands together, her eyes sparkling, "Tea tonight at our flat. I know I could have sent an owl, but I was going to pop into the library here and see if I might borrow some books for tonight, and I have a few other errands while I'm here. Oh, and bring your curriculum books tonight, would you? That will save me some time."

"Erm, what exactly-"

"Damn, I've already taken too long," she said quickly, glancing at her watch before beginning to walk away from the door. "Alright, so tonight at seven, and don't forget the books! I've got to run, or I'll be late."

Hermione disappeared around the corner, heavy shoulder bag swinging on her shoulder, leaving Harry standing stupidly in his doorway with his eyebrows creased together.

What just happened?

Lost...

One who is lost.

Íde allowed the words and their implication to wash over her. She had been lost. Harry was right. This was not her home. She did not belong here. Gazing up imploringly at the Queen, she struggled to find the right words.

"Tell me," she begged. "Please tell me."

Queen Merneith looked down into the village, eyes clouding in memory.

"First, I must tell you about a dream. My dream."

"But I thought we were talking about-"

"Let me speak."

Íde bit back her words, nodding for her to continue.

"In my dream," Queen Merneith continued, "I saw the destruction of my people. I saw our villages grow and age, then wither and die. I woke and thought I was soon to perish, so terrible was my anguish. But then, the very next night, I dreamed again. But before my people reached destruction, we were given a gift. I saw a girl, a girl who did not belong. A girl who was lost. Her skin was like moonbeams, and her hair was like the setting sun. Our hands touched, and there was a spark and a blinding bright light. This girl, this gift, saved my people."

Íde stared wide-eyed.

"You dreamt about me?"

"Yes," the Queen smiled, "and then I found you- I found the girl from my dream, the answer to my prayers, at the boulder. Your boulder. Your lonely place."

Íde tried to think back as far as she could go- any memory of being found by the Queen. But it was like reaching into the dark. There was simply nothing there.

"When?"

"Just over a year ago."

"And... what happened?"

The Queen gave a small sigh.

"One of my handmaids found you on the boulder. You were quickly fading."

"Fading?"

"Yes. A veil had fallen over your mind, clouding everything. It was placed there intentionally. It was powerful magic. Dark magic."

The veil... the veil was magic.

Dark Magic.

Once again, Íde's head erupted in pain. Darkness clawed at her, and each beat of her heart was an agonizing throb in her head. Before the pain could consume her completely, she grasped out desperately into the recesses of her mind until she found Harry's voice.

You are fearless...

Holding onto his words and the sound of his voice, she was quickly thrust back to awareness, gasping.

"A curse." Íde felt another piece of her slide back into place, and she sat up slowly. "I was cursed, wasn't I?"

Íde immediately appreciated the Queen's warnings about the answers she had been seeking. She had learned so little, and it was almost too much. She was so weary now...

"Yes." The Queen nodded sorrowfully. "Such black magic I had not seen in years. The veil... it distorted you. With each passing minute you were losing more and more of yourself. Outwardly, you were unchanged and have been so since that day, frozen in time. Your mind is where the curse began to take its toll. You were losing yourself- memories, emotions, even your logic and reasoning. When I found you, you were nearly an empty shell, only the smallest fragments left. You did not know who you were. You did not know your own name."

Íde hung on every word, praying the Queen would not stop now, despite the overwhelming tightness she was feeling in her chest.

"I used what magic I could for you, but such powers are beyond me. I could not reverse the magic placed upon you, but I was able to stop the curse from progressing and stop you from fading away completely."

The Queen's eyes flickered down to the pearl around Íde's neck. Curious, Íde reached a hand up automatically and grasped it, but the Queen's gaze returned to the village.

"I tried to give you a home. I tried to give you what you need."

"You have," Íde insisted. "You did. You have given me more kindness than I ought to have been given, and I never once showed gratitude-"

"Do not thank me just yet," she murmured distractedly. "I spent many days speaking with the Shaman about you. His own prophetic dreams confirmed that it was you, who I saw in my dream. You who could save us. He foretold the veil lifting from your mind, and it is now coming to pass."

Íde held her hands to her pounding head, trying to calm her swirling emotions. She tried desperately to make sense of everything she had just learned, to accept things she had denied. A darkness began to creep into the edges of her vision. But she couldn't stop now, there was still too much she didn't know.

"What about the curse?" she asked, shaking away the dizziness in her head. "You haven't told me how to break it."

A fog began to creep around her, and she felt the pull of weariness. If she could just rest her head for a minute...

A hand on her shoulder briefly brought her back.

"Do not worry about the curse just now, little one." The Queen's voice pierced the fog. Soothing. "It is enough for now, you are not ready for more. You need rest. It will be alright."

"But..." Íde couldn't find enough energy to say the words. "I- I still..." There was still so much- so very much- that she needed to know. She couldn't stop now. Her body betrayed her, weakness crawling up arms. She blinked, her vision beginning to fail her, feeling like she was falling. As the darkness curled around her, arms encircled her.

Rest now.

Through a cloudy mist- in a place between awake and asleep- she felt the arms release her, felt something soft beneath her. Letting go, she rested her head and body, eyes unable to stay open, and mind unable to remain awake. Soft fingers ran through her hair, and cold lips brushed against her forehead.

Rest now, Íde.

It will be alright.

The Queen sat pensively next to the sleeping redhead, slow fingers brushing away a floating lock of crimson hair.

"This could have all ended tonight."

The voice of the elderly Shaman reached her ears, but the Queen did not move her gaze. In her peripheral she felt the Merman move closer. Her Shaman was trusted above all in her court, but this situation was beyond him. Beyond all of them, really.

"She was ready, my Queen. Willing. She would have taken the vow."

"Shaman," she replied sharply, "We must wait. She must know the truth first. At least, all the truth I can give her. Only then can she choose."

The Shaman moved closer, expression hardened on his lined face.

"I fear we cannot wait much longer, my Queen."

Queen Merneith stilled her hand, tightening into a fist. "I refuse to take her vow until she has the knowledge."

"Then let us give her the memories," the Shaman whispered impatiently, "the sooner she has the knowledge, the sooner she can take the vow."

"It is too soon."

"It is not soon enough!"

The Queen rose, staring down at the Shaman through narrowed eyes. He shrunk down obediently under her gaze.

"You know it may destroy her." She whispered fiercely, glaring down at the elderly Merman. "It must be done with great caution, otherwise all is lost."

"But if it was done carefully, my Queen, with our magic together-"

"No." The Queen held up a commanding hand, and the Shaman shrunk back once more. "Know this, Shaman- I forbid it." She turned once again to the sleeping girl, her gaze softening. "We must wait. She needs time to rest. Her mind must recover, she will need her strength."

Scowling, the Shaman gave the Queen a deep bow. "As you command, Queen Merneith." Turning away abruptly, he left, the scowl still upon his face.

Queen Merneith bent down, placing a kiss on the sleeping girl's brow.

"Rest, little one," she whispered, "You will need to be strong."

The girl mumbled something in her sleep, eyes scrunched closed. The Queen stroked her hair, calming her. "There is so much I have yet to tell you."

The Queen gave one last glance at the sleeping girl before she left, praying she was making the right decision. It would be painful, she knew, but the girl was strong.

Tomorrow, they would unlock more truths.

Many thanks to Gin110881 for helping me out with this chapter when I so desperately needed it!

Also, a few plot points had to be pushed to the next chapter, but we'll get there.