1
The symbols were in place, the alchemical calculations set and she was ready, she was ready to cast a spell which would reverse time and give her the chance to set things right. Her chest tightened, right…what was right anymore? Hermione was alone now. How did it come to this? One moment she was with Harry and Ron celebrating their triumph over Voldemort. They were finally free and could help rebuild this world from the ashes it was left in and then on the day where they were to be presented with honours for their valiant efforts in the war and celebrating a new chapter; the Ministry was seized. The explosion, the collapsed tunnels that created giant sinkholes on street level London, how could they be so blind to think no one in his stead would attempt to seize power, to continue what he had started? She shuddered as the memories of it all from several months before swept over her.
“All in place now.” She said to no one but herself. There was no Ron to say she was Brilliant, there was no Harry to put a strong hand on her shoulder now, it was up to her and only her.
Wand in hand, she tucked a loose curl behind her ear as the wind started blowing speckles of rain. Was this going to work? It was the full moon as the spell specified but this weather kept getting worse by the minute with distant thunder rolling and clouds thick to almost put Hermione in pitch darkness. She closed her eyes as the rain intensified and recited the incantation under her breath making sure she remembered how to enunciate each syllable. A lightning flash brought her out of this semi meditative state and she rolled her shoulders. Now or never Hermione, it was now or never. She took her position within the runic circle and proceeded to speak an ancient Aramaic spell when she started hearing more than thunder in the distance.
‘I see her! Quickly lads, get the bitch!” She heard male voices carry through the rain and thunder. I have time, she reassured herself, but only just. She concentrated harder with her voice growing louder, one by one the runes drawn within the circle were lighting up in a pearlescent glow, billowing up in wisps of smoke as rain made contact with the ground they were on.
“Hurry, she can’t get away now!” Another male voice carried through, this one familiar to her. Theodore Nott. She gritted her teeth but continued her spell work. Tears welled in her eyes as the images of piles of bodies from that day marred her brain, and him laughing a cold and cruel laugh as he kicked a body of a dead woman on the ground.
“Circle around, we must cut off her exit routes!” Another familiar voice. How could he? After what they’ve done to keep him out of Azkaban, betray their trust, her trust, and all for what?
Focus, Hermione! She drew a breath and chanted louder, let them hear her, they cannot stop her now.
Lightning illuminated the field and she saw seven or eight of them surrounding her, wands draw and ready. She felt the power hum through her as more lightning lit up the sky, but her main source of light was her runic circle. It glowed in iridescent brilliance illuminating her and the faces of the men encircling her. She was almost there, the final word.
“Don’t do this, you can still return!” Said the young man she knew all too well. Draco Malfoy, at nineteen years of age was lean and tall, his grey eyes shone from the reflective light of her spell and his outstretched hand toward her he beaconed her to him.
“Why?” She shouted over the rain, “ so I can be some obedient little slave to your pureblood empire? Sit ideally while your lot murders, tortures and enslaves the rest of the muggleborns and muggles? Too long I sat ideally by, no more Malfoy!”
His hair now plastered to his face by the rain he drew his wand hand pointing at her “ You idiot, I would have kept you safe—.”
“Safe? A caged animal that is what you would have kept me as, a pet.” She snarled, “ I am no pet Malfoy” and with that she bellowed the final incantation.
The wind picked up and encircled her, remaining shouts from the men drained amongst the rain, thunder and now howling wind in her ears. Water turned to prickly ice droplets and the glow so bright she had no choice but to shield her eyes with her arm.
Distantly she heard incomprehensible shouts, among them was his final “Hermione no-!”
She felt her feet leave the ground momentarily until the rogue wind thrashed her to the side and up, up, up, and then a blinding silent light. The air came rushing around her ears as she felt her body suddenly falling. She opened her eyes just fast enough to quickly cast “Aresto Momentum” hoping to prevent her fall when instead it exploded and threw her body hard against a stone wall. She heard her wand clatter on some cobblestone several feet away.
Dizzy and disoriented she opened her eyes to find what looked to be a small village on fire. She heard a creaking overhead just in time to roll over as a burning beam fell to where she was just a second ago. Coughing through the smoke she saw her wand, dazed she tried to get up but her body felt far too heavy, so she opted to crawl her way there.
There was ringing in her ears but she heard more distant shouting, clanking of metal and horses? A bit more, she urged herself on, her whole body burning with ache.
A sudden roar and thundering of giant wings halted her progress and it made her head swim. A monster? The ground shook as something heavy landed nearby and the shouting grew louder, closer.
‘Over ‘ere, my Lord!”.
She was within an arm's reach of her wand when a tall figure blocked her path, “ I don’t think so.” A polished boot kicked her wand away and a pair of arms grabbed her by the arms lifting her off the ground. Her whole body protested as she winced. She looked up at the tall man. Long white hair slightly waved from the rain pouring down, his face was pointed but handsome and an eyepatch was covering one eye. He was lean muscled, something that even his leathers could not hide. He studied her with his one eye briefly and then ordered the men holding her up “ Tie her up, and bring her to the castle.”
“ The dungeons, my lord?” One of the men asked.
“No,” he paused, “bring her to my chamber, and make sure no one sees you.” He waved a hand. Hermione tried to struggle asking to be let go, but the men holding her were too strong. They tied her legs together, her hands behind her back and gagged her. One last thing she saw before they put a sack over her head was the one-eyed man picking up her wand and examining it closely. To ease her struggling one of her captors struck her with the pommel of his sword, she welcomed the blissful darkness for now.
She started coming around while being carried through what sounded like castle halls, where armoured footsteps echoed.
“ It’s down this hall,” a gruff voice a few steps ahead said. Her head was spinning and she felt nauseous.
“ What d’ya reckon he’s going to do with her? Would ‘ave made her quite welcome in the dungeons ye know-.”
“That’s his business which I wouldn’t mess with if I were you, unless you wish to be his dragon’s next meal.” The gruff one surmised. “In here.” Hermione heard a chamber door open and they stepped in somewhere where the carpeted floors muffled some of the sound of the two men’s footsteps.
“Drop her down here-,” the gruff voiced one commanded.
“ A shame really, a nice arse on this one-,” she felt a hand cup her buttocks before he flopped her down onto the ground as though she were nothing but a sack of flour. Her shoulder met with the ground and then her temple, she groaned around her gag in pain.
“I think she’s awake-,” said the groper.
The sack around her head was roughly pulled off giving her a chance to finally take in a breath of fresh air. She coughed as it tickled her throat. Opening her eyes she expected light, but she was instead in a dark chamber, with only the moonlight illuminating silhouettes from an open balcony.
“Hello lass-,” the groper smiled, revealing a set of crooked teeth, he wore an armour adorned with a gold cloak, the same armour was on the shorter and older man beside him.
“ We did as we were ordered, let’s leave,” said the shorter man.
“Oh c’mon, just a quick one, I’m sure the prick won’t even know, heard he likes them well and used…” The groper went to unfasten his belt, when a shuffle behind them made them spin around to reveal the tall One-eyed man standing in the doorway.
“Well and used is how you’ll be ser Reed after I send you to the Wall.” His mouth curled.
“My lord, I-I didn’t-,” the groper adjusted himself hastily and looked visibly paler.
“Out!” The One-Eyed man commanded. The two guards quickly clambered out of the chamber, with one uttering apologies with every step. Once gone, the One-eyed man closed the door and then turned to look at Hermione. She was still on the floor, her clothes and hair soaking wet from rain, the man in front of her stepped softly towards her. His gait reminded her of a cat approaching its prey, one eye transfixed on her dishevelled form on the floor. He removed her gag.
“Please, let me go, I -,” she winced as she tried to rise off the floor, “ I need to get back.” Then it hit her. Back? Back to where? And where was she? The alchemical calculations should have brought her only half a year back and now? How far back did she end up travelling if the guardsmen who brought her here were in armour? And where was here? The air smelled of salt so she must have been near the sea, a port city? And this Lord, she never recalled hearing of a one-eyed lord in her late night history readings.
He continued to circle her, eyeing her form with his eye. Echoing footsteps quickly approached towards them which drew his attention.
“Dammit” he hissed and gagged her mouth again, as she whimpered. “quite you!”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up, surprising her with the ease of the gesture, and dragging her towards a full length dresser that he opened and pushed her into, “Whatever you do stay silent if you wish to live” at that he closed the doors. The doors had tiny slits through which light entered and Hermione was glad she could at least breathe the fresh salt air through and somewhat see what the One-eyed man was doing. The footsteps came to a halt in front of his chamber door and a woman’s voice carried through “ Aemond? Are you in there? Open up!”
He crossed the room quickly and opened the door to a red haired woman in green, who stormed past him inside.
“Aemond, have you been? To the fishing village on the outskirts of King’s Landing? The guards say it still burns, what could this mean?” She paced.
“I believe it means there was a fire, mother.” he stood tall with his arms behind his back.
She stopped pacing and looked up at him, her face riddled with worry, “A fire? Do you not know what this means?” she rapidly stepped towards him and looked up searching his face, “it is an attack by HER” she almost said in a whisper.
Looking down his nose at her he calmly said, “I did not find evidence of it.”
“You’ve been there?” her eyes widened, as she took him in, still in riding leathers, his hair wet from the rainstorm outside.
“Yes, mother, I have been.”
“And?” she exhorted.
He calmly started towards the balcony, “ And I can assure the fire was not Dragon fire, so it was not Her doing.” he surmised.
His mother exhaled with relief and started towards the door, “ I must let the council know.”
“Hmm” he hummed in response.
She stopped at the door and looked back at him, “Aemond, please have a rest, you are looking pale.”
“Yes, mother.” he replied with that small twitch to the corner of his mouth. At that she left his chambers. The one eyed man stood still for two beats before he crossed the room toward the dresser and flung the doors open, the moonlight behind him illuminated his silhouette. A knock on the door stopped him mid way leaning down to her, “Yes?”
“My Lord, the Queen has asked to inquire if there was anything you needed?” said a soft female voice from beyond the door.
He gingerly closed the doors of the dresser back to conceal Hermione once more and went towards his chamber door which he closed behind him after stepping out.
Several minutes passed before he returned to the chamber and casually went to stand out on the balcony in wait. Minutes passed like hours to Hermione who laid uncomfortably concealed within the dresser. Her wrists started to ache badly twisted behind her back and she tried to shift her body in an attempt to ease it. Blast it! She thought, struggling in her confines. She heard several people shuffle outside his door and noticed his head turned toward it.
“Come in.” He said before the servants outside could knock.
Around a dozen of servants ushered in bringing with them food, bath water and started lighting candles around the chamber and then the fireplace. He stood casually near the balcony watching the servants work. Once done several of them just stood waiting for further instruction. He paced slowly toward the food laid out on the table and calmly said “ out.”
“ Do you not wish to be bathed, my Lord?” asked one of the braver ones.
“ I can bathe myself, I have what I need and now I need my peace, leave me be.”
At this they all bowed their heads and filed one by one out of his chamber. He did not wait this time and strode towards the door which he promptly locked. He turned on his heel and just as quickly opened the dresser doors once more pulling Hermione out and gingerly placing her on her feet to stand. Her body protested but she held herself up. Now that the room was lit she could see him better, and what she saw was a young man around her age, with hair white and long, and the one eye was a violet colour in which the candle light of the room danced. There was a harshness to his handsome face that could only have been brought on by the witness of death. He looked at her, taking her face in, studying it, and then slowly and gently he removed the gag from her mouth, his other hand on her shoulder from when he steadied her. Slowly he stepped away toward the table with food laid out on and proceeded to pour himself wine.
“What do you plan to do with me?” Hermione rasped, upon seeing a cup in his hand she realised just how thirsty she was.
He hesitated before he took a sip and placed it back down on the table, opting for some grapes instead he went over to chaise, “ depends on what you tell me my lady.” There was that small pull to the side of his mouth, which Hermione started to recognize as what must pass as a smirk for him. He took some of the grapes in his mouth as if awaiting for her to respond. This was ridiculous, she felt intimidated by a boy no older than her, but then he was not the first to intimidated her.
Just a couple months back after the whole chaos erupted onto the wizarding world she was in a situation where she felt just as powerless, but back then she at least knew the boy before her, and maybe, although naively, knew what to expect. This time she wasn’t so sure.
He cocked his head to the side slightly, still waiting. Hermione looked down and around trying to avoid the gaze from his one eye, only to notice that on the table lay her wand. Her eyes widened, but before she could rearrange her face to conceal her emotions, he hummed to himself knowingly. “Tell me, did you set the fire to the village?” He queried.
“N.. no, I don’t even know how I got there!” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she caught herself, brilliant Hermione, that will make you look so unsuspicious, she kicked herself internally.
He raised an eyebrow still smirking, “ Hmm, that was not what the villagers said, they said a woman fell out of the sky in a fiery explosion, a witch some claimed.”
“ A witch?!” She scoffed, “So what will you do, burn me?”
This was the wrong thing to say because his eyebrows knitted and started playing with a coin seemingly conjured out of nowhere in his hand. She realised he was thinking, and as silence between them only broken by the crackling of the fire drew on, he then relaxed and sat back.
A coin played between his fingers as he focused his attention off her and onto his hand, “ You said you need to go back, back to where?”
“Back…home?” She said carefully.
“Hmm,” he looked back at her again drenched head to toe in rain, just then she realised how misplaced she must look, if this was some mediaeval time in century long forgotten she was not only dressed as a man in her jeans and jumper but her jeans were far too tight for the times. His eye glinted in the light and she shuddered as she remembered what the guards that brought her here were saying was to be done to her in the dungeon. She almost toppled trying to take a step back as he suddenly lifted off the chaise and crossed the room towards her dagger in hand. A dagger? His movements were far too quick for her she quickly began to realise. He stood right in front of her, and she could see just how tall he was, not looking away he cut her bindings and released her hands and feet. She nursed her wrists, about to thank him as he moved toward the table, picked up her wand, and stepped to the door.
“Clean up and eat, the servants will not bother you until the first light.” At that he left the chamber, locking the door behind him.
Hermione rushed to the door and pressed her ear to it to hear the footsteps echoing away. Once sure he was gone she tried to open the door, but it was locked shut, frustrated she took to the balcony only to look down and find that it was too far down to climb below. She paced, chewing on her lip, could she attempt wandless magic? No, too risky, the spell work she did she could still feel weighing her down and spreading weakness through her body, she would need several days to recover from that, but she also didn’t have days, she needed to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it! Her eyes landed on the table with food and wine, she was thirsty, but what if it was poisoned? Nonsense, she saw him drink and eat, and the bath water? The steam rose from the tub sitting in front of the fireplace. Panic filled her like the water in the tub and threatened to overflow, no she had to keep calm. If she had some food perhaps she can think clearer and a bath wouldn’t be so bad, it would ease her aching body. She looked to the door that separated her from the rest of, whatever this place was and she decidedly went to the table to eat and drink. Hogwarts always had amazing food for them as students, but the food laid out for her was far superior. There were flavours and spices she has never tasted and the wine warmed her belly as it flowed down her throat. But it was not enough as she still shivered in her wet clothing. She listened beyond the door just to make sure no one was approaching and then carefully undressed herself taking care once she reached part of her shoulder she did not realise was battered more than she thought. She laid her clothes out to dry in front of the fireplace and stepped into the hot bath. Instantly her aching muscles started to unknot and release their tension.
As she sat in the water she tried to recall what could have gone wrong. It was an hour or so past that she started feeling the water cooling. She got out, wrapping herself in a towel that was laid nearby, and went to check on her clothes, they were still too damp to wear. She scanned the room looking for any semblance of spare clothing, eventually finding a smaller dresser with some silk tunics. It was better than nothing she thought.
Outside she could hear the quiet bustling of a city at night, some people perhaps drunk and rowdy from a local pub, or so it reminded her.
She looked outside to see the full moon high in the sky, now clear from the earlier thunderstorm.
Judging by the towers and buttresses she was in a castle, but the city beyond that sprawled all the way to the port dotted with ships she did not recognise. Where on earth is she?
Her body felt heavy and the wine was getting to her head, she returned back into the room and searched for a place to rest, but besides the chaise the only other place of comfort was the giant bed. She gulped. His bed. Was he going to return? And what then? She looked on the bed and found that it had several pillows and throws that she could take to make herself comfortable on the chaise. He may have been nice about feeding her but she was not willing to sleep in the same bed with a stranger. She set up her little bed and made herself comfortable, and within moments of her head hitting the pillow, she was met with blissful and unperturbed sleep.