Extra Ordinary

“You don't remember?”

Viktor shook his head as Madame Pomfrey checked him out. She’d cast several spells over him at this point. Some of them tickled, some felt rather uncomfortable, but each turned up without an answer. He remembered thinking about going to bed, but he woke up in his bedclothes and light armor, sweaty as if he'd been flying. He didn't remember drinking, and he didn't remember going flying that morning either. It was almost too early to be considered morning.

It was all a hazy enough blur to make something in him stand in alarm. It could have been waking terrors or any number of things, but nothing in him said that was the case.

Dark magic, he wondered, but that felt unlikely. If it was dark magic, then Madame Pomfrey would have picked up on it already, there would have been some residual sign.

“Are you alright?”

“I feel fine,” he said, “But there’s something bothering me.”

He’d had waking dreams, slept walk before, but he’d never gone flying in his sleep. Something was telling him that there was more than he first thought at stake. Something in his chest pulsed with a dull ache right next to where his link to his dragonheart was.

No, he thought. Next to wasn’t exactly right, it was more like woven into it or stuck in it like a crick or a cramp that made it sit uncomfortably in his chest. He could feel her getting farther away and with that distance came something like a relaxing of the tension, but an increase in the strain like a muscle pulled just past a comfortable stretch.

“Something’s wrong,” he said softly.

“Yes,” Madame Pomfrey said, “Something most certainly is, but what that could be I have no idea. Perhaps we will know more if you manage to remember anything.”

Viktor nodded hesitantly.

“For now, take it easy and try not to go flying in your sleep anymore?”

He chuckled at that. At the very least, he could continue his search for his dragonheart on foot. It wasn’t possible that she’d managed to leave Surtse with the barricade he put up around the country. As he stood, however, a surge of pain made him swoon. He collapsed back on the bed and curled up trying to breathe through the surge of pain.

“Viktor!”

Hermione collapsed at the spike of pain that lanced through her. The mug of tea crashed to the floor beside her and the contents ran across the floor. She covered her mouth as her stomach lurched and she curled up on the ground.

“Hermione!”

“Leave her,” Hermiona said, “It will run its course.”

She shut her eyes and grit her teeth until it began to ease and she could move again. Someone cast a fixing and cleaning spell as she remained laying on the ground.

“What…” she gasped, “Was that?”

“Your dragonheart looking for you,” Hermiona said, “Perhaps simply intending to do so.”

She looked up at her miserably, “What?”

“You told him not to look for you,” she said, “But that is an impossible task for a dragonheart, Hermione. It will hurt that way every time he attempts to do so until you lift the command.”

“H-How do I do that?” She asked.

It wasn’t necessary to keep him at bay so forcefully now that she had her magical license and an official wand. Even if he pursued her now, all she had to do was refuse his advances.

In theory, she thought wryly. Considering everything that she had learned it was highly unlikely that everything would be that smooth sailing.

How I miss the days when Narcissa was my only problem.

“That, I cannot tell you,” Hermiona said, “Those answers would be with your grandfather’s people.”

“And… where are they?”

“You can’t go there,” she stiffly, “The war may be over, but Marvolo is still Marvolo. There are still factions of dark wizards and their affiliates who are still loyal to Voldemort and will do everything in their power to resume the war.”

She groaned. Somehow, the entire continent should have known that ending the war with Marvolo would never be as simple as getting rid of Voldemort and putting the area under restricted ordinances.

Trembling, she got onto her knees and slowly rose to her feet, “I don’t have a choice.”

Hermiona sighed, “You could always just go to your dragonheart.”

“He’s the prince of Surtse!”Laki said, “Even though she is his dragonheart, the other kingdoms would never stand them being together. At best, they’d lock her up, and at worse... ”

Hermione winced and forced another breath into her lungs as the pain continued to fade.

“She’s right,” Hermione said, “Any tie to Marvolo, especially Voldemort, no matter how vague will do no good...Not to mention everything else I have going against me.”

Siren, muggle-born, time-walker…

The next thing she knew she would be caught up in something much worse than a mingled bloodline.

Famous last words, Hermione, she thought and knew that with the way her luck was turning out that she would definitely be facing a lot more than this little revelation of her bloodline.

Her only option was to find out how to lift the command and maybe untangle their souls.

“How do I get to where I need to go?”

Hermiona sighed and stood up, “Hold on.”

Laki swallowed and stood before placing a hand on her mother’s shoulder, “I’ll get it.”

She sat down and nodded. Laki went up the stairs of the small house and everyone remained quiet until Yoli spoke.

“At least it’ll be out of our house. We won’t have to worry about it being a liability anymore.”

“No,” Hermiona said, “We only have to worry about your niece getting herself killed or enslaved for it.”

Yoli grimaced as Laki returned with a book wrapped in so many charms and protective bindings that Hermione was terrified to try to open it. It exuded dark energy even through the bindings. Laki set it down.

“Don’t be afraid of the bindings, we didn’t place them there. They’re native to sirens and only a siren can open it.” She slid it towards Hermione, “None of my other children inherited the gift as I said. Your grandfather and your mother left it here. This is the only thing I can offer as help besides food and well wishes.”

Hermione nodded and took the book. It felt warm, familiar in her hands, but she refrained from opening it. Instead, she tucked it into her bag and smiled.

“I’ll leave first thing in the morning, and I won’t open it until I’m far enough away not to cause trouble.”

Laki nodded and took her hand, “You’ll come back, won’t you? I would offer to go with you, but I have not the talent.”

She shook her head, “I don’t think my mother would want you to come, and yes, I will. I’d love to actually get to know the rest of my family.”

She smiled and nodded at that.

Hermiona clapped, “Well, let’s pack you some provisions and all get some rest.”

It feels more solemn than Hermione cared to admit, but there was no choice in the matter. Due to her fear and issues, she tumbled into their low-key lives and was a danger to them all if she didn’t find the answers for herself and get things under control. They would never be at peace again and able to lead their normal lives if she didn’t.

Hell, she would never be able to return to her normal life if she didn’t.

While she was glad to have met these women, glad to have a little more of a connection to her mother, she didn’t believe it was worth the cost.

Before the sun rose, she packed her things, took the bag they’d packed the night before, and apparated as far away from the little house as she could manage. She stopped off at the nearest post office to send a letter to Minerva before continuing to walk towards the dark shadow in the distance. Within a few hours, she reached the edge of Espirit where it turned into the magical border of Marvolo’s Dark Forest. In the distance, she could see the craggy mountains that had served as the final battlefield.

The Morsemorde Cliffs were as dark as she imagined from the descriptions, and even this close to the edge of the country, she could feel the evil of Voldemort and his predecessors soaked into the land. It would take more than Viktor’s commemoration ceremony, the ball, and celebrations to rid the continent of the dark stain, but at least by going there, she could understand the dark stain on her own blood’s history.

Maybe.

Squaring her shoulders, setting her jaw, and lifting her head, she walked forward through the barrier that contained Marvolo and shivered at the drop in temperature. It hadn’t been the peak of summer, but stepping into Marvolo felt as though she’d stepped into early winter. Pulling out the map that Hermiona had tucked in her bag, she located herself in the Dark Forest that encircled all of Marvolo and walked towards the nearest town.

She walked until her legs screamed for a break and she came upon a brook that seemed to sob.

She approached it fearfully and took a seat beside it. As far as she could tell, the brook was just that, but as the sobbing grew louder the patterns of the flowing water began to shift and the water seemed to flow red.

She flinched and froze in horror staring into it in as the red hue grew darker and the water grew thicker until it ran like a river of blood. A metallic scent grew until there was no power on Earth that would convince her that it wasn’t a river of blood.

Oh, Merlin, what kind of place have I entered? She stood up at the jolt of fear as the reality of where she was crashed on her.

She was in Marvolo, there was no telling what kind of trouble she’d get into and no telling what could happen to her if she ever got caught on this side of the border.

I should just go home and forget all of this ever happened, she opened her bag and pulled out the book. She stepped back and prepared to throw it before freezing. The sound of sobbing in her ears, the thick flow of the blood river, the quiet of the forest, and the scent filled her sense, but none of that made her heart quicken.

None of it frightened her.

The book felt warm in her hand, beckoning her to open it as if it held all the answers. Maybe it did...Maybe it didn’t, but if she went back now she would have to live like her mother had: looking over her shoulder.

She’d have to marry a Muggle man and hope that her powers wouldn’t pass on to her children, or remain alone to ensure that they wouldn't. She’d always be wondering what may of been, who she could have been had circumstances. She would always carry the guilt if something happened because she hadn't known about these powers.

The women in that little house would never have any peace nor real closure of this chapter in their family history. It would all remain a dark secret they all hid from if she didn’t go through with this.

But what if I get caught?

She shook the thought free. It was too late for that. She lowered her hand until the book hung in her hand at her side.

It was true. Her siren blood had awakened, maybe her time-walker blood too. She had a wand now, acquired through the most roundabout way possible, but it was legal. If anyone went digging a little bit, it wouldn’t take long to find those women in the cottage, it wouldn’t take long to realize how long she’d been hiding as a wizard in plain sight. They would call it suspicious.

Minerva…

Harry…

All the employees of Granger Enterprises were in jeopardy of being called accomplices to whatever nefarious scheme that they deemed she had to have. Narcissa would twist the truth and make herself out to be a victim of a Muggle man and his magical wife's machinations. 

She had to know, she had to be able to explain and make her case that she wasn’t dangerous. She had to lift the command over Viktor one way or another. She had no choice.

“Be brave, Hermione,” she said, her voice shaking in the cool air, “There are more than just your fears to consider.”

She sunk back down by the stream and tucked the book back in her bag. She opened the map again. Based on it, the river was called Blood Tears, and if she followed it, it would lead through the Morsemorde cliffs and out into the ocean where she would find the last Siren settlement.

Maybe , she groaned looking at the vague drawing along the Marvolo coast. There was nothing to tell her exactly where to go, only a vague direction to walk in. Drinking from the water she’d brought with her and eating a piece of bread, she stood and followed the river north towards the mountains.

With every step, she felt the darkness of the forest deepening around her. She drew her wand and kept it tucked into her sleeve for ease of use the further into the forest she walked.

Birds cawed through the trees, but she couldn’t hear their wings nor see them. The eyes of the forest seemed to be watching her. More than once, she had to cast a flame spell to force the Devil’s Snare to retract out of her way and keep its distance as she walked through the forest.

The air grew stale and musty with death and undergrowth. Something tingled on her tongue and she waved her wand in front of her face to create a safe pocket of air to breathe as she passed through the area.

As she thought, there was a small grove of miasmic plants cannibalizing a twisted tree. The sharp fangs of the plants turned to her and spewed more of its miasma, but she quickly walked on.  It seemed that she had only been walking a few minutes, always fighting to get back to the sight of the river, before the sky was completely dark above her and starless.

The sobbing of the river turned into wailing as she checked her map again.

Wailing Bend, she read and looked for a way to cross the river to continue following the river without running into unicorn territory.

There were no stones in the river, nor did it seem to have a bridge.

Merlin, help me,  she huffed as she kept looking.

The blood of the river smelled more like rotting corpses, and according to her map, she was getting closer to unicorn territory. She sat down on a large stone and looked over the stream and down to the map. If the drowning man in the middle of Wailing Bend was any indication, she’d die. She picked up a rock and skipped it over the surface only to see the water reach up screaming and drag the rock down into the depth.

“Can’t fly over it either,” she sighed and she as too exhausted to apparate even that short distance.

A whiny came from her left as a unicorn emerged from the forest and went to the edge of the water to drink. It seemed out of breath from its breathing. At its approached, the blood cleared and turned back into clear water allowing it to drink.

She stood and approached the unicorn tentatively before letting out a low whistle. The unicorn turned, its golden hooves flashed in the light. Along its neck was a slowly oozing wound. Thick silver blood flowed down its pure white coat and it froze. Before it could run off, she turned and hurled and stunning spell at the body creeping through the forest towards them. The figure hissed and screeched before collecting itself to attack again. The screech was weak, but the world around it seemed to bend at the sound.

Almost... like a harpy...

She cast another knockback jinx and sent it flying back into the darkness of the forest. Another creature appeared, mouth dripping with silver blood.

“What the hell is that?” she asked.

The creature’s dark eyes turned to look at her and tilted with a jerk of its head before it opened its mouth in something that looked like a grin. It let out of shriek and she heard rather than saw more creatures come out of the darkness.

She swallowed thickly and backed up, pointing her wand at the group, but there were too many. The unicorn nudged her and bent its head. Without hesitation, she climbed up on its back and whispered a quick healing spell as it headed into the water and the creatures came screeching after them. Around the unicorn, the water was as clear as drinking water. The creatures ran along either side of the river screeching and hissing at them, waiting for the point where they wouldn’t be in the river any longer.

However deep the river was, it seemed not so deep that the unicorn had to struggle to swim. The current was apparently slow enough that it was no hindrance either.

As they neared a bank of overhanging trees, Hermione flicked her wand and broke the limbs that hung overhead so the creatures that followed crashed into the river.

What are they?

The map had made no mention of them. If they hunter unicorns, there had to be a good reason why. the further they went, the more seemed to appear as if they were getting deeper and deeper into their territory, but as the caves of Morsemorde neared, the numbers thinned out until she only heard them hissing in the distance.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

The unicorn neighed.

“You must have been terrified. I hope your family is safe somewhere.”

She lit her wand to see in the darkness and while the cave seemed empty, she had a feeling that nothing in Marvolo was ever as it seemed.

Something skittered along the wall.

Famous last words, Hermione.