Prompt: Prejudice

Chapter 20: Sweetgrass

Hermione watched Lilith enter the cabin and busy herself with potions and bandages. She didn't think the older witch knew she was awake. It had only been about ten minutes since she came out of her potion-induced sleep. Long enough to try the doors and windows and then need to catch her breath after the effort. There wasn't a way out. Not until the witch lowered the spells. Hermione didn't think she was strong enough to fight her way out either. Not yet anyway. It was in her best interest to wait for a chance to run when she was certain she could run. "I didn't catch your name," Hermione said.

The witch jumped at the voice. "Oh! I thought you'd sleep for a few more hours," she said, moved to the bedside and checked Hermione's forehead for a fever.

Hermione sensed that wasn't all the women did when she touched her. She wasn't European. She had an American accent. And her skin was tanned but not dark.

"Lilith. My name is Lilith," she said, handed Hermione a potion bottle. "Drink all of that and we'll see if we can get you on your feet. Maybe take a short walk. Some fresh air is its own potion."

It was hard to fight the paranoia that was descending. With the physical pain easing, the fog around Hermione's brain was lifting. She didn't know this witch or where she was or how she got there. It could all be a trick. An insanely elaborate trick and for what? One mudblood who knew a prophecy. She shook the thought away. The effort it would take to orchestrate it all was not realistic. Drinking the bottle's contents, she nodded, "Fresh air would be great."

With the help of Lilith, Hermione was on her feet. She knew she'd be dizzy. She already experienced the vertigo when she tried to find a way out. Taking a small step, it felt good to have freedom, no matter how small. Lilith waved her hand at the door. It opened. And revealed a beautiful wooded area and rolling field in the distance. "Sweetgrass," Lilith said, motioning to the valley.

"Sweetgrass? I've never heard of it."

"You wouldn't have. It's only grown here in North America. My people have used it in ceremonies for centuries. It's also called the grass that never dies because even after you cut it, it's fragrance continues."

"I'm in North America?" Hermione asked, trying to wrap her head around the time or magic that would have been required to move her so far.

"Michigan to be exact. Upper Michigan. This land is my family's. I think it has some healing properties of its own."

She was too far away from Harry. Too far away from everyone who needed her, who she cared about. "How did I get here? I need to get back."

Lilith led her to a large grouping of boulders and helped her sit. "Hermione. This is going to be tremendously hard to hear. You can't go back. You can't ever go back."

"What? No. I have to. Harry needs me. He needs to know…" She trailed off seeing the look on the older witch's face. Sympathy. Hermione shook her head, willing Lilith to save her from the nightmare that was chasing her down.

"I'm so sorry. Harry died. He was killed by the Death Eaters trying to save you."

No. It wasn't true. He couldn't be dead. "You're wrong. He's not dead. You're wrong. I need to go back and I'll find him."

"You can't go back" Lilith repeated emphatically, "The people who did this. They think you're dead too. If they know you're not, they'll hunt you down. You have to think of your child. His child."

Hermione's arms wrapped around her midsection, protecting herself. Harry's child. What kind of life could she give it if she returned. What was even the point of the war without Harry. The prejudices that gave Voldemort the freedom to sow his ideas of pureblood superiority were as ancient as the sweetgrass ceremonies Lilith mentioned. Maybe older. She was just a mudblood carrying the baby of a halfblood enemy of the ministry. She was nothing. A abomination to be ruled over. Nothing, to everyone. The baby. He was everything to her. "You said he. Yesterday. When you mentioned my baby. It's a boy?"

Lilith nodded. "I'm sorry if you preferred not to know. I sense him when I touch you. He's strong. He hasn't been hurt by what you've been through. But if the people who killed his father know about him, they'll kill him too."

"I'd like to sit here a while," Hermione said, letting the tears fall for the man she loved. The loss was worse than any physical pain she had endured. What was the last thing she said to him? She couldn't remember. When was the last time she told him she loved him?

Lilith took a step back. "Take your time. This cabin is yours as long as you need it. Grow old here if that's what you'd like. No one will ever find you here. This land sustained my people and it can keep you secret and safe."

Alone, she wept for Harry and the life they never got to have. She thought about the unfairness of it all. He never had a choice in any of it. It was cruel of the universe to not give him an option. He survived the night his parents died only to be marked for death in the future by a prophecy. She'd make a better life for their son. She'd make the sacrifice for them matter. Harry didn't even know he was going to be a dad. She hadn't been sure until she felt him move in the dungeons. The stress of running, the constant hunger. Her body hadn't been right all year. She just assumed she missed her cycle. And there was no way to test her suspicions when she missed another. Harry might not have known he was going to be a father, but his sacrifice saved his son. She'd give that son every chance Harry never got to live a life free of fear, judgment, and the expectations of people he never knew.

Standing, she walked forward, toward the field. Lily and James didn't know what the future held for Harry. If they did, Hermione was certain they would have made different choices. Hermione Granger was dead. Everyone who could hurt them believed that. She could raise their son next to a field of sweetgrass, the grass that never dies. Walking out into the knee-high plant, she ran her hand over the tips of the leaves. The fragrance was new to her. That's what this was. A fresh start. The universe was giving her an option to make different choices.