Hermione wakes up sore, famished, and parched. She shakes her wand free from her holster and casts a quick Lumos to look for the bottle of water she always keeps by her bed. The sight of the obsidian cave littered with bones reminds her of the previous day's events and she lets out a pitiful groan. The Dragon stirs behind her and she startles away. Eyes so bright they seem to give out their own light in the dark cave open and stare at her. Her fleeting fear melts at the sight. She could drown in those green orbs.
"I'm sorry I woke you," she whispers and strokes his scales. She's not sure when she started calling him a he in her mind. But he just isn't an 'it' anymore. He blinks lazily and tightens his tail around her without hurting her with any of the deadly spikes adorning it.
She makes herself comfortable again and summons a goblet with her wand then fills it with water. She drinks and repeats the process three times before her throat stops feeling like sandpaper. She then makes her goblet big enough for a giant cat, or in this case a Dragon, to drink from it and fills with water then sets it in front of the Dragon's snout. He smells at it once or twice before lapping it up in messy splashes. She frantically digs inside her beaded purse while he quenches his thirst and exclaims in triumph when she finds a stale cereal bar that has probably been in there since before Bill's wedding, over a year ago. She devours it in two bites which she immediately regrets. Her stomach is still growling and she's certain there isn't anything else edible in there. She had removed all the food once she felt safe enough not to travel with a stocked kitchen magically glued to her body. It had taken three months. She shouldn't have felt safe. She's now paying it for it with hunger.
Hermione shakes herself out of it. She's acting as if she were stranded in a desert with no magic. She's going to be fine. She's just a little bit lost. She turns to look at the Dragon who has finished his water and is watching her intently.
"I don't suppose you can tell me where we are, can you?"
He blinks. She sighs. "That was silly of me, wasn't it?" He blinks again.
She gingerly gets up and makes sure to put most of her weight on her good leg. She ignores the pang at her shoulder. And makes sure to put her purse on her good shoulder as well and magically glues it so it won't get lost. She walks towards the entrance of the cave and thanks the skies at the lack of rain. She walks out, slightly slipping on the obsidian rocks still damp from yesterday's rain, and looks around her. She isn't necessarily the best at geography, and she hasn't attended a muggle geography class since primary school. She doesn't know of any chain of volcanoes this big. Is she even still in Europe?
The Dragon follows her slowly out, his crawling steps shaking the earth slightly beneath her. He stops at her side and looks up as she is.
Hermione could get on the Dragon's back and just fly until she sees some place she can recognize but that could take days, if not weeks, she isn't quite sure how fast the Dragon is or how far she needs to travel. And she isn't sure she could command it either. He could just decide to fly in circles and come back to his nest, as is his right. No, this is exactly the sort of impulsive decisions she always berated Harry for. She would be prudent, and patient, and call for help as she should.
She goes back inside the cave and the Dragon follows her back in. She sits down on the ground with her back straight and her legs folded beneath her. She breathes in deeply, focuses on a happy memory. She finds herself thinking of the day she got her wand, the fire it stoked inside her, the warmth, the power, the safety. The Dragon's tail wound around her and the warmth seeping from it deepen those feelings. She smiles and casts her Patronus. She opens her eyes and smiles at her shining silver otter. The otter playfully dances around her once before shimmying towards the Dragon's snout and taunting it. The Dragon follows it with his eyes, confused, and sneezes when it gets too close. Hermione laughs and the otter comes back near her at the sound. She waves her wand at it and the otter becomes three. She sends one to Charlie, one to Harry, and one to Ron for good measure.
"It's Hermione. I'm lost somewhere with a friendly-ish Dragon. There are lots of volcanoes around me and a dragon-shaped castle. Please send help."
The otters disperse in the wind. But to Hermione's utter confusion, they aren't even gone five seconds before coming back and floating in front of her again. She frowns and sends them again. They come back after three seconds. She sends them again. They don't move an inch. She sends them again. They disappear in a poof. She gapes at the empty air.
"What the fuck," she whispered to herself.
The Dragon's tail started moving around in restlessness.
She conjures another otter and sent to Professor Mcgonagall with the same message. The same process repeats again and leaves Hermione close to tearing her hair out in frustration. The Dragon growls, the sound shaking the cave.
"Relax," she cooed, to herself or the Dragon she wasn't quite sure. "Just breathe."
Maybe she is just too far for patronus messaging. Not that she had ever read of a distance limit. But she couldn't possibly claim to have read every single book ever written as much as she tried to. Speaking of books, she is suddenly very grateful that when she removed all food and camping items from her bag, she couldn't bring herself to remove the books. She summons one on magical transportation then summons a blue bell flame and lets it float over while she settles to read. She has never made a portkey herself before but she is sure she could get it to work.
She reads the full section on portkey making five times before putting the book down and stretching her back. She summons a hair brush from her bag, as well as parchment and a pencil, and sets it all in front of her. The Dragon, who had fallen asleep during her reading session, stirs at her movements and slowly turns his head to watch what she is doing.
She takes the piece of parchment and writes "Dragon Reserve, Romania" on it zd xrll zd z trigger word for the portkey instead of a set time. Then she visualizes her destination and casts "Portus" with a perfect hand movement. The hair brush glows blue in the cave momentarily then goes back to normal. Hermione sighs. She has seen portkeys being made before and so far, it's going as it should. She turns to the Dragon and strokes his scales.
"I don't think I can take you Sweetheart," she says softly, "but I'll come back and visit you. I promise. Thank you for everything."
She puts her finger on the brush and speaks the trigger word loudly and clearly. The brush starts vibrating, something invisible grips her around her belly and starts pulling, the sensation gets stronger and stronger. And then it dies. And she finds herself still sitting exactly where she was before activating the portkey. And the hairbrush is exactly where it was. And the Dragon is still observing her.
"No," Hermione pleads. The Dragon whines next to her. "No, no, no. This should have worked? Why didn't it work?"
She tries again five times. She sets the portkey to The Leaky Cauldron in London, to the Burrow, to her childhood home, to Hogsmeade, and to the British Ministry of Magic. None of it works. After her last attempt, she gets up and flings the hairbrush as hard as she can against a cave wall and lets out a high pitched scream. The Dragon roars in response. Hermione grips the roots of her hair and squats down on the floor, her eyes looking beyond the obsidian stone and ivory bones.
Magic has never let her down. Not once. And she knows she still has magic. Multiple other spells she has tried since landing there have worked. All except magical transportation. Has someone cast a grounding spell on the premises? She stands up, visualises the outside of the cave and turns on her heel. She disappears in a loud crack and reappears outside of the cave. The Dragon roars and comes out of the cave then stops in his tracks when he sees her standing there frowning at the ground. So magical transportation is possible. But she can't contact any of her friends, or magically transport to them. She briefly considers disapparating to them but she quickly dismisses it. She would splinch herself at best, or not survive it at worst.
She looks up at the sky, then at the volcanoes around her. She turns around and keeps looking for a sign, any sign of where she might be. She is lost, alone, with no food or water, she has no idea where she is or how to contact anyone who might help her. The open skies and scenery become heavy and oppressive and settle on her like a heavy blanket she can't shake off. Her breathing becomes faster and soon enough she's hyperventilating and seeing stars. She bows, puts her hands on her knees and tries to breathe through the pain in her chest.
The Dragon comes over and bumps his snout on her, which sends her toppling towards the ground. She braces her falls with her hands and lets out a hysterical laugh. Hermione looks at him and puts her scraped palms on his scales. Only then does she realise that he's effectively distracted her out of her panic attack. She touches her forehead to his black scales and whispers a thank you.
"Alright," she says out loud and slaps her hands on her thighs which she immediately regrets when they sting. She stands up with a groan and takes a fortifying breath. "If I can't find anyone I know, I'll just have to find people I don't know." She turns and looks at the Dragon who cocks his head at her. "There's a castle, that means there are humans around. I just have to find someone helpful enough to lend me a map or something."
He snorts at her.
"No you're right, I won't start with the inhabitants of the Castle. What if they're Malfoys or Malfoys adjacent?" She shudders. "With that ostensible display of wealth, I wouldn't be surprised. Let's just look for the nearest town, yeah?"
He blinks.
"I'm just going to assume you can understand me, because the alternative would mean that I have gone barmy in only one of solitude and I like to think of myself as stronger than that."
He shakes his head like a dog.
"Right then, let's go look for people."
She casts a Wingardium Leviosa on herself and levitates herself towards his back. She lands between his shoulders with a soft thud and grasps the horn on his back.
"Go on, sweetheart, take me to the nearest town."
He flies for a few minutes, past the dragon shaped castle that still fills her with awes when she sees it, and towards a village. He lands at the outskirts of it. Hermione slides down his wing and gapes at the sight of the primitive houses. She knows Wizarding Society tends to be a bit behind on architecture trends compared to Muggle cities but this was downright medieval. From the horse drawn carts parked on the side, to the clothes the people were wearing, Hermione could almost believe she as travelled back in time. Her blood runs cold at the thought. No she couldn't have. Hopefully she has just landed near a Renaissance Faire.
The people milling about are also ogling her. Or, more specifically, ogling her Dragon. They all stop what they're doing and look up with slack jaws at the giant beast shuffling his paws next to Hermione.
For a moment, they all assess each other in silence. Until the Dragon roars and chaos erupts. The village inhabitants start screaming and running away in panic. Women leave woven baskets of laundry lying on the ground, men push away little kids to run faster, horses gallop over a few humans leaving them behind injured.
Hermione tries calling out to them but no one responds to her. In a minute they all clear away and she finds herself alone next to a very satisfied Dragon. She narrows her eyes at him.
"Thank you for your help."
He snorts and lowers his head to the ground and makes himself comfortable, and in the process, looking like an adorable if giant puppy. Hermione rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
"You couldn't have done that when they were all still here? No? Great. Well, let's look for another Renaissance inspired Village I guess."
She levitates herself again and sets to the skies once more. This time, she directs him to land in the middle of a farm. As soon as they land however, the farmers all abandon their tools and run away. Hermione sighs and disapparates. She reappears in front of a man and stops him dead in his tracks. He pales at the sight of her and faints, falling to the ground at her feet. His fear at the sight of her mild magical feat makes Hermione frown. These people weren't used to magic. She disapparates again and reappears in front of another escaping woman. She reacts the same way. Hermione stops then and just watches them run away from her. The Dragon approaches her, and she feels him from the way the earth shakes beneath his steps. He stops next to her and blinks at the diminishing forms of the escaping farmers.
"Alright, this time I did the scaring."
He snorts next her.
"I know!" she exclaims and turns to look at him. "Bunch of scaredy cats the lot of them!" Yep, Hermione is going bonkers. She needs to speak to another human, immediately.
She takes to the air again and spots what looks like a tavern in the middle of a travelling road. She lands there and walks towards the main door. The stable is full of horses and there are two men relieving themselves on the wall right next to the entrance door. Hermione wrinkles her nose at the sight. The Dragon follows her and the sound of his steps makes them stop and turn around to gape at him with their trousers still around their knees. They both start screaming and run inside calling for help.
Hermione sighs and rubs her temple. She's starting to believe none of these people have magic. No one with magic would be so scared of a dragon, as big as he is, or faint at the sight of a simple disapparition. And if they don't have magic, her earlier thought of time travel makes a lot more sense even if it scares her to think of a centuries long travel. Metal clinks and five knights appears in front of her. Hermione gapes at the chainmail and armour and swords they raise high in front of them. One of them is shaking, and the metal of his armour keep clinging making her uneasy. She's hungry, tired, frustrated, and the repeated jarring sound of metal against metal is making her want to scratch her brain out of her head.
"Halt," the bigger knight calls out to her.
They line in front of the tavern in a defensive line.
Hermione sighs. "I'm not here to hurt any of you," she starts. She takes a step forward and they advance on her with their swords raised. She takes a step back. "I just need some help, please. I have lost my way and I would be very grateful if you could lend me a map, or point me to where I can find one."
The men look at each other, shrug, then look back at her.
"There's no map here, lass. I suggest you go find a Maester."
"Right, a Maester of course," she repeats as if she knew what that word meant, "and where might I find one?"
The man scoffs and turns to look at his companions who all snort in response. He turns back to look at her and opens his mouth. Hermione never finds out what he was going to say to her because the Dragon chooses this moment to breathe fire on the armoured men, as well as the whole tavern and stable behind them. He bathes the whole scene in neon green and black flames.
Screams fill the air, the smell of burned flesh makes Hermione choke and take several steps back. The Dragon advances and starts feasting on his long dead victims. His paws flatten the melted stone. Hermione can see a few flecks of molten silvery metal where the soldier had once stood.
The Dragon has finished eating the horses and is about to start snacking on the charred humans when Hermione snaps out of it and moves to stand between him and the poor sods. She ignores the crunch beneath her feet, she doesn't want to know what or who she's stepping on.
"No," she glares at him, "you will not kill people who are just trying to help me. They were innocent."
The dragon growls and brings his snout dangerously close to her. Hermione ignores the almost uncomfortably hot breath on her.
"I mean it," she says firmly.
The dragon unhinges his jaw, baring rows of razor sharp teeth and lets out a deafening roar. Hermione doesn't flinch. She waits until he's done then raises her eyebrows.
"You think that was impressive?"
The Dragon roars again. She keeps the eye contact up with him until he finishes once again.
"No one will help me if you keep eating them."
The dragon snorts and turns away from her. He starts prowling away and Hermione feels a queer sense of panic overtake her. She disapparates on the spot and reappears in front of him with a loud crack. The Dragon stops and his tracks and cocks his head at her.
"I'll make you a deal. You can eat the people who try to kill me."
A low growl escapes him and, for the first time, Hermione starts wondering if she maybe should just let him go his own way. He brings his snout closer and closer, his low rumble shaking her to her core. She forces her muscles to be still and maintains eye contact until he bumps his snout against her torso. The movement sends her back a couple of steps and a hysteric laugh bubbled up her throat. He bumps her again and this time she's expecting it and stands her ground. She brings up a hand and stroked the smooth scales on his snout.
"Thank you," she croaks through the ball in her throat. She had gone from fear of abandonment to fear of death to absolute joy in less than a minute on an empty stomach and she can no longer hold her tears back. She touches her forehead to his scales and tears stream down her cheeks. She tastes salt as she whispers again, "thank you".
She takes her spot back on between his shoulders and flies away from the massacre. Her heart clenches at the thought and she forces herself to keep her gaze ahead of her instead of the carnage below.
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