Crimson Heaven

Waking up to see Other just rising herself, Hermione stretched, her arm still aching from yesterday. They had all agreed last night to rest a few days before making any decisions.
This suited Other to the ground for some reason as she led Hermione up to the dunes. “Where are we going?” Hermione asked as they reached the rock pools.

“I wanted to talk to you without anyone else hearing me and interfering.” Hermione could see something in the way the deity spoke, this was something serious.

“What is it?”

Other turned to Hermione, an unearthly glow surrounding her, making Hermione back away a step. “Your fate has been decided.” This shocked her, she didn’t understand what she had done to make it final, whatever her fate was.
“When next we physically return to Gaia, you will be swept up into an event that I cannot help you through, you must do it on your own. I will be there, but I will be unable to do anything other than watch, as these events have now been made fixed, do you understand, my friend?”

Hermione blinked a couple of time, she thought about it, did this mean that she was destined to be with Genesis? “I understand, my friend.”
Other nodded before the two returned to the cottage.

They walked in through the door when Hermione stopped and made an ‘aha’ sound. “Polyjuice Potion!”

Fortunately for Hermione, Other and the boys, Bill and Fleur had a hefty supply of Polyjuice Potion. “Are you sure that is the right hair, Hermione?” Ron asked her as she held it up to the light. “We don’t really want a repeat of last time.”

It was meant as a joke, Hermione knew, but she remained stoic, the memory of watching this solitary strand of hair fall onto her coat forever etched into her memory. “I’m positive.” She replied.

Whilst they waited for the potion to finish brewing, Harry insisted on talking with Ollivander and Griphook.
Mister Ollivander checked out the wands now in the trio’s possession; Hermione’s was Bellatrix’s wand, she’d had the good sense to put their actual wands into her little bag, ready for the fight to come.
Griphook had told them that the sword of Godric Gryffindor was Goblin made, it absorbed magic and became imbued with said magic -which was how the sword could destroy Horcruxes, it had been used to kill the Basilisk in their second year.
Harry made a deal with Griphook (flawed to hell and back when Hermione would come to think back on it), get them into the vault at Gringotts and the sword was his.
Fleur handed Hermione a black dress that she claimed was the closest thing she had to what the real Bellatrix wore.
Hermione drank the potion and changed into the witch that had tortured her.

They entered the now darkened and ruined Diagon Alley and Hermione had to stifle gasps of shock, gone were the joyful colours and the delicious smells that littered the alley, gone was Fred and George’s joke shop, gone was Florence Fortescue’s Ice Cream Emporium, gone was the Quidditch shop… gone was the Diagon Alley that they known and loved.

Hermione remembered enough of Bellatrix’s mannerisms to be able to pass off as her in the street, she cheated a little when a dark wizard approached her, “a good day to you, Mistress Lestrange.”

She sneered, “is it?” she hissed, “the Potter boy and his traitorous friends are out there free and plotting against our lord and master and you have the time and nerve to talk about the weather, ha!”

It was only once the witch, two wizards and the Goblin were inside the bank, that Griphook spoke. “That was very well played, Miss Granger.” He whispered, “you almost sounded genuine.”

Hermione was shocked into silence, Genesis must be rubbing off on me, she thought, making her way to the counter and spoke again, “I demand access to my vault, Goblin.” This was coming far too easy to her, she was getting worried.

“Very well, Madame Lestrange.” The Goblin complied, though Hermione noticed a confuddled look on his face. “This way please.”

She hissed harshly at Harry about this, his reply came in an equally harsh hiss, “it was in case you said something that would give you away!”

Hermione was a little put out at the lack of faith in her, she had been doing fine, hadn’t she? They got onto the mine cart with the confounded Goblin, flying through the underground rails on their way to the vault, a waterfall ahead of them… hold on, “Griphook what is that?!” she asked.

“It’s the Thief’s Downfall, hold on!”

The group was soaked through as Hermione and Ron looked at each other, “you look like you!” they said simultaneously, the speeding cart coming to such an abrupt halt that Hermione would had been thrown over the nose, had Other not have grabbed her dress.
Then the cart upturned, Hermione casting a quick Cushioning Charm, bringing the group to the hard, jagged, cold stone floor.
She scurried through her bag and threw Ron his wand, taking hers out as a group of guards appeared.

“This way!” Griphook used his own magic to send wizard and Goblin alike to the ground, unconscious, pushing the re-confounded Goblin forwards, towards the vaults.

Other seemed to hold back before following Hermione. “What?” the witch asked.

“There’s a magic here in the vaults that doesn’t belong to this world.” The deity replied cryptically.

Frowning, Hermione had to put it to the back of her mind as the group rounded the corner, Griphook handing them all cowbells, “what are these for?” she asked.

Griphook looked up at her, distain in his eyes, “do you want to get burned alive?” he pointed ahead of them, where Hermione saw the pitiful sight of a dragon, Ron called it a Ukrainian Ironbelly, Griphook explained that it has been trained to expect pain when it hears the clackers -Hermione scowled at the cowbell in her hand as she shook it- and when Hermione spoke up about the cruelty, Griphook just looked at and stated, “be thankful for it, today, Miss Granger.”

They made it past the dragon, the confounded Goblin placed his hand on the Lestrange vault door and the group entered. “There is something in here that is not of this world.” Griphook mentioned as wand tips were lit.
It didn’t take long before he found it, Hermione watched in fascination as Griphook picked up an oversized marble, crimson red in colour, just like the one she had around her neck…

“It’s materia.” She said suddenly, Griphook turned to face her, “I know where it’s from, I have one around my neck.”

“You mean you wore that under the Polyjuice Potion, girl?!” Griphook snapped.

Hermione felt her temper flare, “yes, but it was configured to look like Bellatrix’s choker! For goodness sake, Mr. Griphook, please do not insult my intelligence.”

Griphook cocked his head to the side before dropping the materia, “ow!” he cried, “it burned me!”

“Hermione?” Hermione was only vaguely aware of her name being called.

Her surroundings blurred, there was a rush of light that swirled and surrounded her, “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT?!” She heard Ron shout, coming to her senses, she saw the ghostly shape of an armoured dragon appear before them.

I am Bahamut! It spoke as though it was the wind, the voice echoed through their minds, Griphook fell to his knees, I am the servant of one who’s powers are not of my world. It turned to Hermione and bowed; I am yours. The light vanished, the dragon with it.

Griphook stood, the materia in his hand, and, with shaking hand, he handed it to Hermione. “It belongs to you, Miss Granger,” the Goblin sounded disturbed, “whatever power you possess, it must be immense to tame a dragon without facing it’s fire.”

“No, Griphook,” Other startled everyone except Hermione, “it was because you had insulted her and got her angry, that’s why Bahamut has given her his strength.” The deity grinned over at Hermione, “that’s not going to work in this world, not until you’ve mastered them.” She explained.

Hermione nodded and then turned to Harry, “sorry, Harry. We’ve got a golden cup to find!” she quickly brought everyone back to their actual reason for breaking into the bank.
Things turned for the worse as soon as Other touched something else in the vault to see what lay behind it. Everything they touched multiplied and burned their skin. Hermione reached out to Other, clutching her close as she scanned the upper shelves.
“There!” she shouted, “Harry it’s up there!”

“Can you get me up there, Hermione?” he called.

“Mr Griphook, hand me the sword.” Hermione called, the Goblin handing it over reluctantly. “Catch!”
Harry caught the sword and Hermione took a breath, lift him gently, lift him gently. The mantra went on in her mind as she levitated Harry above the trinkets, seeing him grab the cup as her head was forced under the increasingly heavy pile, her skin burning.
The materia in her hand was the lone light she saw, then she had an idea. “Exturbo!” she shouted, casting an area of trinkets away and hauled herself and Other into the clearing, the others converging on her.

“Get us out of here, Griphook!” Harry ordered; Hermione noticed that the Goblin had the sword again.

“You asked me to get you in, you said nothing about getting you out again.” The Goblin sneered, disappearing through the door, Hermione was not about to give the creature that satisfaction.

“Oh no you don’t!” she threw herself at the door, surprising the Goblin. “Not on my watch, Goblin!”
The Materia glowed again and the Goblin took off. Huffing, Hermione put the orb in her bag and spun round to help Other hold the door open, waiting for the boys, “hurry up, you two!” she called, alarms rang out all around them.

“Okay close it!” Harry and Ron burst through as the girls let go of the door, letting it slam shut.

“Let’s get out of here.” Other suggested, leading the way back to the dragon.
“Aahh!” she screamed, Hermione appearing in front of her to cast a protection spell, guarding the divine being from the spell that would have knocked her back.

The group fell back, Hermione looked to the boys, “any ideas?” she called.

“You’re the brilliant one!” Ron called back.

Hermione closed her eyes, “I’ve got an idea, but it’s mad!” (LOOK AT ME I’M A TARGET!!)
She cast a spell to ward off their attackers before running and diving for the dragon’s back. “WELL, COME ON THEN!” she shouted, waiting for the rest of them to jump on before releasing the dragon, “Hold on!”

Closing their eyes, the group all held on for dear life as the dragon burst through solid stone and marble, crashing through the roof of the most secure bank in the Wizarding World.
Opening her eyes, Hermione looked over the wizarding world and London in awe before Ron shot a spell at the dragon’s rear to get it in the air.
“This was bloody brilliant!” she heard him shout as the dragon carried them over the streets and then the countryside, they saw a lake under them and Harry called for them to jump.

“When!?” Hermione shrieked, feeling Other grab her wrist.

*Jump, child, NOW!* an unfamiliar voice spoke to her, a woman’s voice. *I will see to it that no time passes in this world, now jump!*

“Now!” Harry’s voice was the last thing she heard as she and Other jumped from the dragon.

Hermione expected the water to be cold, but she didn’t expect to hit ice as she attempted to surface.
Panic began to set in as a crack formed and someone grabbed her.
“Hermione! Great Goddess alive, are you alright?!”

Coughing, Hermione found herself wrapped in a crimson leather coat, “Ge-Genesis!” She gasped, teeth chattering.

For it was him, in the flesh. “What in Gaia are you doing back here?” He asked, scooping her up.
Looking back, Hermione saw Brother carrying Other.

He carried her to a camp, where a troop of men were milling around. One soldier caught sight of Genesis and snapped into a salute, “Commander Rhapsodos, sir!”

“At ease, soldier.”

“Are the civilians in need of medical treatment, sir?” he asked softly.

“No, just a change of clothes and a warm drink. They fell into the lake back there.” He explained as the soldier followed him to a tent.

“I’ll fetch something warm for them to drink, sir, though I’m not sure where we’re going to get clothes that’ll fit them…”

“I’ll find something, Private. Thank you for your help.” Genesis nodded as the Private -without saluting – disappeared.

Hermione shivered as Genesis set about finding the girls some clothes. He settled on a pair of spare SOLDEIR uniforms. “These will have to do, I’m afraid. Can you dry off the necessities?”

Hermione nodded, so Genesis left the two of them to change. Hermione was quick to dry them off, choosing to take the offered clothes, so as not to draw too much attention to her.
“Urgh, these are itchy!” Other complained.

“Be thankful we have something dry to get into.” Hermione retorted. “Your mother could have given us prior warning.” She mused, casting a mirror charm so that she could make the adjustments properly.

The sleeveless turtle neck jumper was baggy on her, the baggy pants were the kind you’d expect to find in the military, leather accents acted as decorative braces, though Hermione suspected that these would hold armour and weaponry in place when they weren’t in use, the look was completed with steel toe-capped military boots.
The uniform’s colour was black, indicating that these belonged to Genesis; Hermione had noticed that Brother wore the same clothes, she also took note that the troops could see him, which she found strange.

“I agree, haha!” Other giggled at her, “oh that uniform is so not you!”

Hermione retuned her giggle with a smirk, “you don’t look like Miss Universe, yourself.” She replied.
The two were still laughing when Genesis came in with steaming mugs.

Their uniforms now a perfect fit, Hermione and Other sat at the campfire, watching Genesis interact with his men. Apparently a man named Lazard had sent Genesis on a mission to Wutai, something about another raid on the fort – now inhabited by troops rather than civilians.
As Hermione watched the Private from earlier approach Genesis, she got the distinct impression that something was wrong.
Her gut was right.
Genesis had a face like thunder, his eyes flickered over to her twice, but his voice never rose. Something had angered him, was it her?

The private nodded and walked off, Genesis wandered over to her, his face calm, his eyes deadly.
“Genesis?” he pulled her up by her arm, hearing a squeal of surprise as Other was pulled along by Brother.
“Where are we going?” She tried to pull out of his grip, but he held her tighter, “Genesis, you’re hurting me! Let go!” Now she dug her heels in.

“Don’t.” he rounded on her, his eyes glowing, he pushed her in front of him, “just walk.”

Catching herself before she fell over, Hermione walked forward, Other stumbling up to her side, “have we done something wrong?”

“Just walk.”

Hermione was getting angry. Turning on her heel, she pulled out her wand, Genesis stopped before it went up his nose. “Now you listen here, Genesis Rhapsodos, I have risked life and limb to try and help you. You will not treat me like a prisoner of war!” she snapped.
His face never changed, but his eyes did. Now that they had the troops around a meter behind them, Genesis winked. He was playing?

“Walk.” His tone never changed.

Choosing not to argue any further, Hermione and Other kept on going, until they reached the fort. “What are we doing back here?”

“I’m leaving you here.” Hermione spun round to see Genesis’s eyes sadden. “You’ll be safer this way.”

“Safer? Safer from whom?” Hermione stepped into the moonlight, “Genesis, what is going on?!” she asked, desperate for the truth.

Genesis’s eyes bored into hers, his azure glow making her lose track of her thoughts. She was so wrapped up in his eyes that she didn’t see him close the gap until he was pulling her close.
She felt his soft lips against hers, warmth enveloped her as she deepened the kiss. “The camp will be emptied soon. Once the last of us have left, return to the camp and wait. Sephiroth will find you.”

His words were spoken in a hushed tone, his melodic voice sending shivers down her spine. Her brain caught up to his words too late. “Wait, Genesis! Don’t leave me!” Her cries echoed through the now empty glade.
Turning her face to the cold moonlight she let out a cry, “WHAT IS GOING ON?!”

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Genesis squeezed his eyes shut; the pain of his shoulder was finally outweighed by the pain of hearing his beloved Golden Flower’s despair.
“Did we have to leave them out here?” Brother asked him, “if the Wutai troops come for her-”

“She’ll handle it.” Genesis cut him off.

“Sir?” Private Parkes, who had warned him about bringing his beloved with him, saluted and approached.
“The troops are ready when you are, sir.”

Looking back towards the glade one last time, Genesis blew a kiss from his hand. “Move out. We head for Banora.”