Now that they had become acquainted with the side of adulthood that was sexual in every way that it could be, they had a hard time keeping their hands off each other, worse than before.

Seamus was ravenous, but Hermione would be lying to say she wasn't equally as hungry. She knew she'd have to deep clean this tent thoroughly before she gave it back, because she and Seamus had sex on just about every surface they could.

She wasn't surprised by her sexual neediness. She had felt this wave coming for a long time, and she knew eventually it would crash. The biggest thing keeping her from jumping fully in was the unsureness of the unknown…but now that Seamus had shown her how pleasurable it could be, Hermione had no reason to fear it, meaning she could just relax into the constant feeling of warmth pooled between her legs.

Everything became a sexually charged moment; cooking breakfast (Seamus hoisted her up on the counter-top and took her fast), collecting water from the stream outside (the river soaked through her clothes and neither could help themselves; Hermione had been on top, riding Seamus as he lay in the stream), bathing (well, the bath tub, that one was a given, right? That time had been slow, meaningful, and very steamy), and laying out in front of the tent (now that they had crossed that line, and were quite sure no one else was arriving to see them, they stripped and explored each other's bodies, Seamus languidly moving inside of her, tongue swirling around her nipple with his fingers rubbing her as she gasped and whimpered).

Hermione had come more in however long it had been since Seamus and she had first had sex than she was pretty sure they'd get the chance to for the rest of their school-bound lives. In that sense, they ought to make it count, knowing their days could be the last one each time they'd get to explore each other's bodies freely and uninterrupted.

They read through Lavender's book too; they tried some of the spells that were mildly more daring, like a spell that enchanted ropes for some mild bondage or gave them massage oil with different sensual smells.

Seamus whispered all his dirtiest fantasies to Hermione, all the ones he had at Hogwarts that he doubted he'd ever get a chance to try.

He wove scenarios where she went commando just for him and he fingered her under the desk and she came on his hand, biting to keep from the Professors noticing.

There was another in which they abandoned their Prefect duties for something naughtier and Seamus would pick her up and rail her into a broom closet door, Hermione biting back moans onto his hand while he implored her to stay silent, despite the fact that the way he'd snap his hips into hers would have her seeing stars.

He stitched a thought where he pushed Hermione down over a desk, flipped her skirt up and went quickly, hitting the exact spot where - when the balls of her feet would lit off the floor - her toes would curl.

Hermione half expected herself to be horrified by the idea of being so…naughty in school, but in reality, she was hungry.

She had her own little fantasies; sucking him off in the Greenhouse, opening herself up wide for him as she sat on the ledge of the Prefect's bath at the perfect height to eat her out, driving him mad as she played with herself absently though knowing he was watching…and the most dirty of all, Seamus pulling her up onto the banquet halls and feasting on her like she was the main entree before stuffing her full.

She was almost struck by the realness of these fantasies and how non-innocent they all were.

If anyone heard them, they'd think she was a crazed sex addict!

Seamus still pulled out, though she assured him the spell was perfect. To be sure, she did it on him too, as it was non-gender specific. One of the times, though, he'd been so lost in her and the moment that he hadn't had time.

Something about it, weirdly, turned her on more.

But most of all, perhaps what was the most enticing to Hermione about all of these ideas was that it was a fantasy. Not just because she was a former Prefect with her eyes on Head Girl, and not just because she was too embarrassed to imagine herself doing any of this at school. If she could, some part of her believed she would.

Rather…Hermione had known for a long time that her childhood had been taken from her. From Ron and Harry too (though, no one more so than Harry). While she'd never regret choosing Harry as her friend, some part of her knew - and especially was aware when she was with Seamus - that from the moment they got mixed up in the Philosopher's Stone their first year, things were just rising to a pitch, the tension growing, the sense of doom looming.

Hermione didn't think she'd get to be a normal teenager at Hogwarts any year she attended.

She didn't think that was in the cards for her.

She wished that the biggest thing Hermione was going to have to worry about was getting caught by a professor in an abandoned classroom after hours.

Life would be so much simpler if that was the case.

Call it an omen, call it smoke in her bones, call it a bad taste in her mouth…Hermione had a feeling that when they returned back to Hogwarts, their little adventure aside, everything would be different .

And it never had been different in a good way.

There was this little voice in the back of her head, so quiet she missed it, that whispered: Prepare…

Hermione liked to think she had no idea what it was talking about, but she did…didn't she? The very fear she'd had all her life.

The chances of Harry graduating Hogwarts dwindled year by year.

So she took this chance to be normal and passionate and wanting with Seamus, whispering her dirtiest desires in his ear, sure that it would never come to pass.

This was the best she was going to get.

And changed for better or worse, brought into the fold, she was pretty sure Seamus knew it too.

But neither had the courage to say anything, or to break the spell.

Sometimes, in the most very selfish part of her that existed, Hermione dreamed about staying here forever.

XXX

One day they woke up and, without any warning, things felt different .

It was impossible to put it into words, but it wasn't required, as all it took was one look at each other and it was as though they could taste something in the air. A change, a shift, a heaviness that wasn't present prior to other days. It seemed to press upon both of them, like something sitting on their shoulders, shoving them out of the camp.

Though, when they looked upon the boundary line, it didn't look any more or less open to accept than before, and when Hermione pressed her palm against it, it still did not yield a path for them.

Yet, they both knew that something had changed.

"I was sort of…getting used to this," Seamus tilted his head toward the tent, an almost resigned smile on his lips, "It was nice just being us."

"We'll get that again," Hermione said, pressing a hand to his cheek tenderly.

"Yeah, in like two or three years. Bloody impossible to wait, knowing what's out there for us…" Seamus sighed, "I think part of me is just…afraid."

Hermione nodded. He didn't need to explain, she understood. Here, they were 'safe' and without trial. Once they passed through there, they were one step closer to everything they sought, or failing miserably.

"Let's pack up first," Herimione suggested, "Maybe…we just need to wait a bit."

They made quick work of squishing everything down and within just a few hours, it was like they never were present here at all, sans a few places where they'd driven their tent poles into the peaty ground. Seamus filled their water bottles to the brim with the stream water, unsure what they'd face on the other side.

And still they waited.

"It feels wrong…" Hermione paced along the boundary line, "I don't think we're just mean to wait. All we've been doing is waiting."

"But it's not open."

"Well, unlocked, perhaps," Hermione turned, tapping her chin, "And we need to find a way to open it now…" She stared, nose flaring, "I can't shake the feeling that if we don't figure it out today, we'll be waiting a long time again."

She turned and Seamus blinked at her, "Alright. You feel the magic the most strongly, so of course I believe yeh."

Hermione tried a couple lackluster opening charms pointed in the direction of the boundary, but nothing really worked, though it was obvious she didn't think something as easy as an ' Alohomora ' would do the trick.

She sat down in front of it and Seamus eased into the place next to her.

"Tell me stories…" She said, focusing on the shimmering edges.

"About?"

"The Otherworld. What do you know?" She licked her lips, "We got through the cave and the lake knowing that it's a common entrance, so what else do you know about it?"

"Well, for a hero to enter, they are usually invited in with a few recurring items. Like an apple."

Hermione was up at once, "Are any of these trees an apple tree?" She asked, scanning the edge of the forest, "Help me look!"

She watched Seamus jump up. They spent the next hour or so climbing trees and finding many fruits, but no apples.

"Bloody hell!" Hermioen hissed, frustrated, "I thought that was it, for sure!"

"It was a good guess," Seamus agreed, "There's also, though less commonly, discussions of a thread leading heroes through-,"

"-I don't think that's it," Hermione mumbled, crossing her arms, "I don't see anything of the sort."

"Well, there's also a tree branch as an offering, but we seem to be swimming in trees without an answer."

Hermione laughed a bit, but as she stared at a particular branch above her - one that looked like Parvati's wand - she suddenly felt like bursting out in full on laughter.

"Seamus!" She gasped, "Well, that's it!"

"It is?" Seamus asked, unsure, scratching his head.

"I think the myth has just been…misremembered or represented differently, for muggle sake. But what is something that all wizards carry on them?"

"A wand?"

"Or…" Hermione pulled out her wand, staring at it, a feeling of triumph bubbling up inside of her, "To a muggle…a stick or tree branch, right?"

Seamus stared at it for a second, and then a full grin broke over his face, "Blimey, that's got to be it!"

Eager, Hermione came toe-to-toe with the boundary line. She took out her wand and carefully, slowly, pressed her wand forward until it hit the invisible barrier.

At once, a great white light split forth from the boundary, breaking it in two, like someone parting the sea. Hermione stumbled back, nearly tripping backward if not for Seamus catching her, and watched as the woods shimmered and lit up in a hundred suns. They both watched, jaws hanging agape, as a whole other world opened up for them. On one side, their side, it was day, but they could see as you passed through, it turned to dusk.

"We need to go," Hermione whispered, finding her strength and pushing herself up, "C'mon, I don't know how long it'll be open." She turned back to Seamus, offering her hand. He swallowed hard, eyes flickering between the opening to his girlfriend's palm. After a long moment, he gave a soft smile, tightly clasping his palm in hers.

"I would follow you to the ends of the earth," He said, his voice rough with emotion, "And not many blokes can say they actually have done that, but I'll get to."

Hermione squeezed back, "To the end of the earth."

They both paused, looking back at the space that had created such a welcoming shelter for them for…well, neither could count the days accurately, but for the time in between. It was terrifying to leave that behind, after being lulled into this sense of timelessness, but it was necessary.

As much as Hermione wanted to stay, in her heart, she knew it was not within her to abandon Seamus or Harry or anyone she left behind…or anyone she was doing this for. Some part of her wished that she could be unbothered and untethered by her need to be helpful, to be someone, but Hermione knew herself far too well.

She was always going to continue on.

Hermione was sure greater things lay ahead.

They both stepped over in unison.

Seamus' breath caught in his throat.

"If this is the afterlife…it's just as beautiful…" He whispered.

They were in a lush forest, and though it was impossible to see more than twenty feet ahead of them, the spaces between the trees were shimmering with fairy lights, lightly glowing. It didn't feel foreboding, quite the opposite. There was nothing about these woods, these trees, or the darkness beyond that was telling Hermione that she ought to be afraid. If anything, she felt more at ease than ever, like her winding path was always meant to end here.

"Onward we go, I suppose?" Hermione said, "There's a path."

The unspoken question hung between them.

"I don't…" Seamus pressed his lips together, "I don't think it's a trick. We're already in the otherworld. I don't think that they'd need to go to dishonesty to keep us. They just could."

"That's a very good point," Hermione nodded twice. She wasn't brave enough to completely stray away, and part of her was glad that Seamus could see the logical reasons to continue through it.

"I think in the way that things have been put in front of us, things we're meant to do or go to, we're meant to follow this." Seamus added, a sense of finality, the surest he'd been this whole time.

"Okay," Hermione nodded, "Let's keep on, then, shall we?"

They spent what felt like the first day on the path, and eventually came to a place where it opened to a wide meadow. Perhaps it was the longing they had for the life they were living in the camp before the boundary line, or perhaps it was the nervousness to reach the finish line, or maybe it was both of them reading the signs that were being conveyed wordlessly, but they hardly had to speak the idea to each other that it seemed like it was where they were meant to stop for the 'night'. They pitched the tent in record time, feeling relaxed by the familiarity of being able to slide into the bed that both of them knew so intimately.

"Do you think there are others on this side?" Hermione whispered, head burrowed under the blanket, cheek pressed to Seamus' cheek.

"We haven't heard from anyone…" He trailed off, but that didn't answer her question. Everything about this side felt different, almost opposite to the 'before'.

"I think I should get out and put up some wards…" Hermione muttered, throwing off the blanket. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with Seamus, but she knew her mind wouldn't let her rest until she did. And, even when she had, she wasn't able to fall asleep for more than three or four uneasy hours at a time, sure that some nasty witch or wizard would be coming for them in their sleep.

In the same way that the space before was always day, the woods here were always dusk. At one point, Seamus climbed a tree, but he could see nothing past the woods, a thick mist settled that obscured anything more than a meter in front of him. It never slipped past that halfway point, into full night, which was perhaps a blessing, but it always stayed that murky smokiness that came with the dying of a day.

Whether it be signs from the universe of their own minds, things felt less cheerful here. Perhaps it was because they were getting closer to finding whatever it was they came to find.

For the first time, they both wondered if perhaps this…entity, this solution wasn't simple, or good, or kind. Or perhaps it was just indifferent.

There had to be a reason Nathair never returned home.

It was approximately five days of traveling, according to Hermione's watch. The days were much the same and felt similar to their expedition in the cave. They would travel until they found a break in the road, a magical stop-sign. They'd be exhausted, even if it never felt like they were traveling far. Something on this side of the forest wore down at their will, slowing them with every step.

Hermione theorized that something about the forest knew they weren't meant to be here and had 'cheated' death in a sense, and she also guessed that if they were here by normal means, it would seem as wondrous and magical as the 'before' area.

Seamus surely hoped not; he didn't think he could live in forever dusk.

They would set up camp, and Hermione would spend an hour or so setting wards. No one had disturbed them, but it didn't mean it wasn't going to happen. Unlike in the daylight side, where they'd never felt the eyes of others watching, they both got a chill up their spine sometimes, but whenever they swung around to look at the treeline, there was no one there.

And they'd attempt to make a meal and go to sleep, but neither were getting any real rest, nor digesting anything in a way that's healthy.

One of the nights, they tried to have sex, but it was obvious both were twitchy and unease and passion died down quickly.

"If I'd known…" Seamus had laughed, rolling over, "I would have made sure we did it a few more times the day before."

Hermione put her head on his chest, "There will be plenty of time for that when we get back."

"Sure," Seamus snorted, "If our parents don't absolutely skin our hides first…and if we're allowed to see each other. I'm sure my Mam will be lecturin' me about how we're bad influences on each other," He wiggled his fingers, eliciting a giggle from Hermione, "Or something."

"All Gryffindors are bad influences on one another," Hermione rolled her eyes, "It's pretty much written into our blood. And, once we're adults…" She trailed off, "Well, there's not much to be done to keep us away from each other."

"You'd break the rules for me?" Seamus teased.

"I think I've already done that, haven't I?" She asked, lifting her chin.

"Ah, yes, right." Seamus nodded, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised at this point that Hermione Granger is far less of a goody-two shoes than she'd like the world to think."

Hermione blinked at him, "I never claimed such things. Everyone else just made assumptions."

Seamus rubbed constellations on Hermione's back, helping her tuck her head underneath his chin, "Well, Luv, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'd be royally screwed if you were more rule-abiding. I'd be a Muggle, and no offense."

Hermione's breath hitched, "After having magic…I can't imagine losing it…"

Seamus stared out the window of the tent into that inky nothingness that seemed to stretch on forever, "Yeah," He replied, exhaling, and then, failing to find anything else to say, "Yeah."

XXX

On their sixth day, they found their path diverging two directions. One way led down a darker forest, the other, into a thick fog.

"Well, I don't like the look of that," Hermione muttered, shaking her head as she stared at the way the darkness seemed to swallow the way forward whole.

"And you like that better?" Seamus snorted, jerking a finger at the fog, "Seems like both options are shite."

Hermione took two steps towards the fog. Just as she was reaching out to brush her fingers across it, Seamus jolted forward, tugging her back so ferociously that it knocked a shriek from her lips.

"What was that?" She demanded, spinning around, "Manhandling me across the dirt…" She hit dust from her pants, but seemed a bit shaken.

"We can't…we can't go that way," Seamus' eyes were wide, "Don't ask me how I know, I just do ."

Hermione rose up, staring at Seamus, tilting her head, "Sea…what did you feel?"

"Just bad, okay? Worse than bad. Like death reaching down my throat and choking me. It was such a…sudden feeling, right before you touched it, that I thought I was dying on the spot. No," He shook his head vehemently, "Not that way."

Hermione had never seen Seamus so spooked. However…

"This is your Otherworld. Your ancestry. If you are sure about that fog, I believe you," She said, and with each step she took away from it, Seamus seemed to calm down bit by bit.

"Thanks," He mumbled, blinking, as though he had been possessed by something else in that moment, shoving them both toward the left lane.

"So," She took out her wand, tapping it twice and muttering ' Lumos ', "Into the darkness."

Seamus didn't try to stop her this time, and in fact, seemed more and more cheerful the farther they went, despite the absolute blackness. It was so dark that they barely could see in front of them, and as soon as they would take a step forward, whatever lay behind was seemingly swallowed whole, as though only existing the moment someone took a hesitant step forward.

Perhaps that was entirely true and this plane of being only was there when someone needed it.

Hermione had seen stranger things in her time.

There was a light at the end.

"That's not just my wand, right?"

Seamus shook his head, "Naw, no, that's something else."

It seemed like the light should be just a few steps away, but time stretched out in front of the two. But they never stopped moving, always taking one step forward, always in motion, even if that light never seemed to grow larger or smaller.

Just remaining.

Time flowed above them here in a way that could almost be touched. Hermione looked above her once to see something that looked like starlight floating on a wave just out of their reach, something glittery and golden and beautiful.

By the time they did reach the light speck, it felt like life had passed by them as they'd kept moving in this infinite darkness. The speck of light were a pair of darkened trees curling to make a doorway out of the woods, and sunlight lay beyond.

"If we made a circle and we're right back, I'mma kill someone…" Seamus groaned, but Hermione didn't think so. This daylight felt…different.

They both felt like something was pushing them out of the forest and, as though tripped, they both went tumbling into sunlight.

As Hermione gathered her wits, she glanced back at the wooded path.

Her breath caught; the doorway was gone.

"Well." Seamus picked himself up, groaning as he ran his hands over his arms, checking for damage, "I'm going to take that as a good sign."

Hermione stood too, Seamus helping her unsteady legs, "Ever the optimist."

Inwardly, she was not nearly as unbothered by this.

She felt trapped. Even a gilded bird cage was still a prison, and even the most beautiful day in the whole world was still purgatory if there was no way out.

To their left, as though it had followed them and curled unnaturally in the dusk, the fog - the one Seamus was so rattled by - misted out of the forest.

"We're staying far away from that," He muttered furiously, turning Hermione the other direction.

There was immediately something very telling about this side of the Otherworld; parts of the earth were pockmarked with deep scars, like lava had splattered just on a few parts of ground. There was a familiar smell too, and as Hermione sniffed the air, she realized it was the smell of burning that she had always associated with Seamus.

She turned, and Seamus had come to a similar conclusion, and had a deep scowl on his face. He was staring at his hands, as though begging for a fire, as though sensing some sort of familiarity, some kinship with wherever they were.

There was the sound of crackling, like flames eating through wood. Though her heart was beating in her chest so fast she thought it would break away from her ribs, Hermione grasped Seamus' hand and took one step forward.

"Together," He promised. They both seemed to sense they were nearly at the end of this journey.

Whatever it brought.

They took hesitant steps forward, but it took very little time to reach what they sought. In the middle of the field, sitting on a throne, was a…being. That was the first way Hermione could think to describe him. He was bathed in golden finery, and would almost look human, if not for the fact he was five times their size. He also seemed to be on fire, though it didn't harm him at all, the flames licking at his shoulders and evaporating into the atmosphere around them. When he moved, his whole body smoldered and smoked, like he was being burned from the inside out, though he seemed entirely unbothered by it.

There was a gothic sense of awe that nearly had Hermione on her knees at the sight of this…this…god.

She knew, without a doubt in her mind, she was seeing an otherworldly creature, a Celtic God of old.

Though it was not what she believed in, and Hogwarts had given her no sense to think such deities were true, she believed it. It was the most overwhelming thing she'd ever laid eyes upon, too much, like she couldn't comprehend what was in front of her. She touched her cheek and realized she'd begun to cry, tears running down her cheeks swiftly as she drank in this sight that so few living people could tell the tale about…and that was if they were alive and could make it out of here at all.

"Aed," Seamus said, as though realizing all at once, "My Mam has a totem for him in our house. God of the Otherworld and…" He blinked, as though something was dawning on him, "And of fire."

But why would he ever assume a god like this was real? Or that his Mum having a totem of this man would be connected to Seamus and his explosions? Up until this moment, everything about that seemed improbable, but as they stood at where this deity sat, Hermione couldn't help but wonder…and it seemed Seamus was on the same track of mind.

As they approached, Aed took notice of them. He leaned down, peering at their faces. Before Hermione could blink, he was human-sized, though still taller than either and limber and unnatural. He was too beautiful, so perfect that it set off a warning in Hermione's mind. There was just an offness about how he looked, something that would never make him pass for entirely human.

"Another Finnegan?" Aed said, inhaling hard, "Your folk are so… needy ."

Seamus licked his lips, confused, "Another?" He echoed, "Do you mean Nathair, my brother?"

"Among others, but the most recent…yes."

Success rocketed through Hermione's chest. They'd found him, she was sure of it! This was just confirmation that they were where they were meant to be. She paused, frowning.

"You know who he is?" She asked.

Aed seemed offended, "Of course I do, child. His blood is my lineage. His magic is at my patronage."

Hermione felt like her head was drowning in water as she tried to muddle through his words.

"At your…patronage?" She echoed, blinking hard.

She couldn't think fast enough. Her brain was firing a thousand miles, but Seamus got there faster. He made a choked inhale, tensing as he stared up.

"You…you gave wizards and witches magic?"

Success flowered in Hermione, at least they'd solved one riddle perhaps, but it was short lived. Aed gave a long, drawn out sigh, as though they'd offended him.

"It's clear your ilk are not taught the histories properly to even wonder such things," He sniffed, scowling.

"Teach us," Hermione said, a demand, and at Aed's dark look, "Please?" Her eagerness washed away to embarrassment. She was standing in front of a god . He could easily smite her just because the sky was blue.

"To imagine me giving the whole world magic, while perhaps kind of you to think I wield such power, is inaccurate," Aed said, easing back, pleased at Hermione's interest, "I was the God that gave the Finnegans their magic eons upon eons ago. Their magic answers to me."

" The God…" Hermione muttered, picking at her nails as she thought, "Seamus, you said there were five original, historical Irish wizarding families." Hermione turned without waiting for an answer, "Do all Irish wizards originate from those families? The ones who were given magic hundreds of years ago?"

"Thousands," Aed corrected, "As we have always existed, and not long after, we raised up five witches and wizards in our image. We were far more discerning than the Anglo Gods. Twenty-eight families, bah!" He huffed, waving a dismissive hand. As he did so, embers fluttered off his fingers, dissolving in the air.

Excitement spiked once again in Hermione, "Do you mean to tell us that it was…gods and goddesses who gave humans magic? They were who created witches and wizards?"

"I would think that would be obvious."

Hermione shook her head frantically, "It's not. Well, at least, not in today's world…" She fished clumsily for pen and paper, "Oh, this is…Seamus!" She was halfway through uncapping a pen when she paused, staring at it, "But…what about me?"

Aed stared at her, frowning, "Why would I know which house you hail from?"

"No, I…" Hermione blinked, "I can't have. I'm a muggle…erm, no one in my family is magical. Do the gods…" She swallowed, "Do they still give magic?" She asked quietly, almost timidly.

Aed looked past her, "Most are gone, child. Some with strong ties remain. The Anglo Gods were eradicated long ago and their kin have spent their lives trying to pilfer his," He pointed to Seamus, "Muggle. Non-magical, don't be absurd! There is no such thing, surely not by this point."

"What…what does that mean?" Hermione's eyes were wide.

"Do they not teach you science either?" He asked scathingly, and at Hermione's wide-eyed, frozen expression he inhaled, "Magic was never meant to be kept in just five families, or even just twenty-eight, or how many ever around the world gods doled it out to. It was a gift for all mankind, given to those meant to lead the world with it. But surely, with how humans populate, it has spread as intended."

"Everyone was meant to have magic?" Seamus jumped in, "Well, they don't. Witches and wizards are a dying breed."

"A creature that cannot fight hides to live another day," Aed said simply, "And when it sees its own kind, it may feel safe to return."

"Wait, wait," Hermione threw out her hands, "Just…shh!" She pointed to Seamus before he spoke, feeling like her entire world was tipped out from underneath her. She was desperately trying to separate the discovery from herself, but some part of her felt like it was coming alive again.

You were always meant to have magic, Hermione!

"So you're saying that if magic feels like it's threatened…it hides itself? And that every person on earth has magic, hidden, somewhere?" She asked, lip quivering, "And it needs to be…coaxed out? When you say 'see' it's own, what…what does that mean?"

Could my parents be magic? Could they, nearly fifty, understand what it means to be…me?

"I cannot spell everything out for children who wish to waste my time with meaningless inquiries," Aed said snippishly, "I imagine that's not what you came all the way here for."

"No," Hermione swallowed, reminding herself that this was a huge discovery by any means, "Of course not. No, we-,"

"Oh, I'm sure I can guess why you're here," Aed said, crossing his arms. Hermione pressed her lips together, looking at Seamus, "No doubt you are here for the same thing his mother was all those years ago."

"My mother?" Seamus choked, "Mam? Roisin? Her? Here?"

Aed blinked at him, "Yes. With her companions. She sought me out, asked a boon of me, as you intend to. History repeating itself; you and her," He pointed to Hermione, "Coming here to ask my magic to fix the impossible. To give you the ability to give life."

"That's not…" Seamus started, but he couldn't find his words. He spun, staring at Hermione, his mind going in a different direction, pulled to her. His eyes traced where her scar started at the edge of her shirt, disappearing beneath her skin. Hermione's fingers traced it above her shirt, her shoulders dropping as she let Aed's words sink in. She looked at Seamus, and somehow, he'd riddled it out first.

"I can't have children?" Her hands pressed against her stomach, "The Mediwizard…they didn't…"

"What would they know?" Aed huffed, "Dark magic, I can taste it. If you were unaware, you would spend your whole life trying to no avail and those 'doctors' would never find a reason why. But I see it. I can see it the same way that I saw it on Roisin."

"The spell," Seamus breathed out, "In the Ministry. And in Mam's battle."

"And asked me to reverse what no one else could. And so I did. But if I had known that Finnegans would find so much to want for, perhaps I wouldn't have…" He screwed his nose up, annoyed, "Aislin to ask for help in pathetic human politics, Raymond asked for his sickly son to survive, your mother asked me to grow children where it was barren, and your other brother here not so long ago, and now you." Aed shook his head, "The other Gods rarely see their lines, and their kin are not so greedy."

"Nathair-," Seamus took two steps, "Please, what did my brother ask for?"

Aed blinked at Seamus, almost amused.

"He asked for your life."