Jakku
The first sensation to permeate Hermione’s consciousness was the cold. It was a chill that seeped through her clothing, the sand beneath her providing nothing in the way of warmth. Groaning, she stirred, her head aching as she struggled to understand exactly what had happened to her. The absence of pain on her arm indicated that her wound hadn’t ripped open again - a small mercy in her current situation.
Slowly, she forced herself into an upright position, her eyelids fluttering open to a disorienting sight. She squinted as she took in the barren landscape stretching endlessly before her. She was stranded in a desert, the overbearing silence punctuated by only the howl of a nearby wind. Above her stretched dark sky illuminated by the glow of not one but two moons, an alien sight that sent a chilling wave of realization down her spine: she was no longer on Earth.
Her mind raced, a whirlwind of questions swirling around it. Where was she? What was this place? Was it another dimension? Merely a different planet? It was clear that the Veil had acted as a conduit, transporting her, but to where, exactly? She scanned her surroundings, expecting to see the ancient artifact, but where it should have been was nothing. Which would explain why no one ever came back through.
She saw no signs of civilization anywhere around her, no indication of human life. She was utterly isolated in a world that was clearly not her own. She knew Mars was the only planet in the solar system that had two moons, but she quickly dismissed the thought of being there, as it was riddled with carbon dioxide, which would have been lethal. This revelation brought her to a daunting conclusion - she was either in another solar system, another galaxy, or perhaps even another universe entirely.
But Hermione was nothing if not resilient. She had faced situations more dire, and she refused to succumb to helplessness. So, she squared her shoulders and set off into the seemingly endless desert in front of her. Eventually, she had to run into something, right? Worst case scenario, she was fortunate enough to have her trusty beaded bag on her, and the supplies in it would hopefully be enough to sustain her until she found some form of assistance. She held onto hope that the assistance would come in the form of those who had passed through the Veil before her, namely Sirius.
It had been five years since he died, but that was five years based on Earth’s temporal rules. Here, she had no guarantee that time obeyed the same conventions, nor could she be sure that the Veil deposited its travelers in the same location every time. But if it did maintain a consistent location and the flow of time matched that of Earth, then there was a glimmer of hope that Sirius could be alive, that he had perhaps managed to learn to survive on this world. And if she found him, maybe they could find a way home together.
Embracing that possibility, Hermione paused her strides, drawing her wand from its place and hoping that her magic would work wherever she was “Expecto Patronum,” she exclaimed into the desolate air.
Her magic felt different in this place, imbued with a peculiar tingle that was not unpleasant but decidedly foreign. Regardless, her wand responded dutifully, spitting out her familiar otter. The silvery animal danced around her, and she cast the spell created by Albus Dumbledore to use it as a messenger, instructing it to seek out Sirius Black and convey her plea for help. Immediately, the patronus spun around and soared skyward, disappearing into the night sky. She watched it vanish into the sky, a sight she had never witnessed before, stirring a cocktail of hope and uncertainty within her.
She resumed her journey, and eventually, she noticed smoke rising in the distance, a promising sign of life. She headed towards it, but before she could reach the source, she encountered a disturbing sight - an unconscious man, bloody and battered, who was attached to a parachute. Her heart leaped at the sight, and she rushed towards him. Calling upon the healing training she was required to undertake as an Unspeakable, she cast a diagnostic spell that revealed he was still alive, albeit barely. His body was riddled with injuries reminiscent of severe fall damage. He may have deployed his parachute too late, she reasoned.
Casting spell after spell, applying Essence of Dittany to the worst of the wounds, and forcing potions down the man’s throat, she focused all her attention on stabilizing the man in front of her, glad that her healing knowledge was improved from what it once was. She was also thankful for the manner of injury being wholly muggle in nature. Healing magically inflicted injuries was harder and took longer.
After the moons had moved almost halfway across the sky, once she was satisfied he only had minor injuries left, she took a moment to relax and take in the stranger’s appearance. His attire was quite similar to what one would find on Earth, consisting of trousers and a long-sleeved shirt. She found him to be quite handsome, with tousled curly brown hair, sun-kissed skin, and rugged features.
The fact that he was human, or looked exactly like a human, was surprising to her, given they were on an alien planet. She went over the possibilities in her head. Maybe he himself was a wizard who had gone through the Veil. Or perhaps he descended from one or more.
With a mental shake, she refocused, setting out to heal his minor injuries. As she initiated the second spell, her arm tracing an intricate pattern in the air, his eyes fluttered open. His gaze was clouded with disorientation, a sign he was struggling to grasp his surroundings, but when his gaze landed on her, and then the wand in her hand, his eyes widened in obvious confusion. Any hope she had of him being magical fizzled out, extinguished by the clear bewilderment in his gaze. To him, she was not a magic-wielding savior, but a woman brandishing what he likely perceived to be a mere stick.
Despite this, she quickly resumed her movements and finished the spell. The stranger’s voice broke the silence between them. “Who are you? You with the Resistance?” He asked, voice rough and strained. Her wand hand stilled momentarily, her movements paused by the surprise of hearing him speak English, and with an American accent no less.
He tried to sit up, but a wince of pain contorted his handsome features, causing Hermione to lay a calming hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy,” she said softly. “I’m here to help. My name is Hermione Granger. I’m afraid I’m not associated with this Resistance you speak of, though.”
A flicker of surprise passed over his face. He repeated her name, as if testing the unfamiliar syllables on his tongue. “Hermione,” he echoed, his voice softened by an unseen grin that tugged at the corners of his lips despite his discomfort. “Haven’t met a Hermione before.”
Her own lips twitched into a small grin. “I’m the only one I know, too,” she responded, the lightness in her tone belying the peculiar situation that they had found themselves in.
“I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.”
Her smile broadened a fraction, his name suiting him in a strangely endearing way. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Dameron.”
A playful grimace crossed his face. “Just Poe, please. Mr. Dameron makes me feel old.” He squirmed again, making an attempt to sit up again in defiance of his injuries.
“Try to stay still for a moment while I heal you, okay?” she requested, her voice tinged with a hint of authority, and she resumed her wand movements.
“What is that?” Poe’s voice held a tone of curiosity, his eyes focused on the stick in her hand. “I’ve never seen tech like that before.”
“This,” she gestured to the slightly illuminated wand in her hand, “is my wand.”
His brow furrowed as he echoed her, “A wand, you say?” His eyes were clouded with confusion as they shifted from her wand to his skin, which was rapidly knitting itself together. “That’s some advanced medical tech,” he murmured, a hint of awe coloring his voice. “And without any bacta… How does it work?”
Baffled by his mention of ‘bacta’, Hermione’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with this bacta you speak of. But I’m not from around here. I’m from Earth, and-”
“Earth? Never heard of it,” he interjected.
Hermione responded with a thoughtful hum, her lips curving into a pensive smile. “I’d be rather surprised if you had, seeing as how the furthest those of us from Earth have traveled is our moon. Although we have sent a robot to the next planet over. I’m pretty sure this is a different galaxy or even a different universe from my own.” Poe’s already puzzled eyes seemed to cloud further with her explanation. “And my wand is not exactly technological in nature. It’s a conduit for my magic. It’s not necessary for casting, but it makes it easier and helps channel it to make spells more powerful.”
“Magic?” Poe’s eyes widened. “Do you mean, like the Force?”
“The Force?” Hermione, intrigued, shifted her gaze to meet Poe’s.
“Yeah, the Force.” Seeing her confused look, he continued, “You don’t know what the Force is?”
“Can’t say I do. Would you mind explaining it to me?”
“It's this... energy field that surrounds everyone and binds the galaxy together. Only a select few can tap into it, manipulate it."
“Can you?”
“No, not me. I’m not a Jedi.”
Hermione hummed in response, before adding, “Where I come from, magic is inherent, intertwined with our souls. Not everyone possesses it.”
“So it’s not the same as the Force,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. “So you use this… wand of yours to channel your magic to heal people?”
“Healing is just one facet of magic,” she replied, not elaborating.
Another silence descended upon them, broken only by Hermione’s hushed incantations, until Poe spoke up again. “You mentioned that your people haven’t traveled past your moon. How did you end up here then?”
“Through a magical archway, believe it or not,” she answered with a rueful laugh. “Where exactly is ‘here’, by the way?”
“You’re on Jakku. It’s in a remote sector of the Western Reaches of the galaxy,” he provided. “But I don’t know why I bothered to tell you that, seeing as how you’re not from the galaxy.”
Hermione smiled lightly. “I appreciate it, regardless. It’s nice being able to put a name to the planet.” Finishing the last of her spells, she performed another diagnostic spell to ensure nothing was overlooked. A sigh of relief passed her lips. “You’re fully healed now, Poe.”
With genuine gratitude in his eyes, he said, “Thank you, Hermione,” and pushed himself to his feet. As Hermione rose to match him, Poe let out a gasp. She followed his gaze to the smoke billowing on the horizon. “BB-8, Finn…” he muttered, before breaking into a sprint.