Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Better Fate COMPLETE	By : FemmeBono Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 3299 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
I know, I know, I know…I'm not making promises, but I will try to at least finish this story and my other Sev fic, "Deep Roots" by the end of summer. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!

　

Cht. 8, Illumination and Inspiration

Through the long bleak winter they trained below ground, rarely venturing out. It took a while after that first hard freeze for the cold to permeate into their bunker, but once it did every room kept a fire of peat or wood to chase the chill away. As the equinox approached, Severus and the other initiates passed the time sparring, both with magic and might now, as they prepared for the great hunt that would be coming up in a few months’ time, just before he was due to marry and return to the wizarding world.

By the time the equinox came, he had less than three months left of his stay and Severus dreaded his return to Hogwarts and all it entailed. He had traveled there in dreams and heard Harry’s pronouncement. He knew that he would be lauded a hero, and yet every time he thought of Lasair and her quiet ways, he yearned to stay a bit longer.

On the day of the equinox, whilst everyone else was preparing for more festivities after the long winter below ground, Severus and Hermione trekked silently up the rocky crag above Caer spring. They were to spend a three-day vigil with Latiaran, the youngest of Scathach’s daughters. She would be teaching them air magics, and for this they came to stand at a large flat grassy ledge near the top of the hill.

Latiaran stood ready, long bright red tresses in a tight braid with little wisps blowing in a stiff breeze. Her garb was that of her mother’s, and she looked every bit a younger version of Scathach in her green tunic and tanned doe hide breeches. She smiled and bid them welcome, eager to get started.

“You have both already learned to communicate like this,” she said, sending her thoughts to them in the telepathy they had both mastered. “If I might ask, how did you find it so easy to do? For that is typically my first lesson to novices.”

“It‘s a bit like non-verbal spells, really,” said Severus, winging his thoughts back to her. “Instead of intending to send magic to a person, you are intending your thoughts to be heard. I suspect it‘s something of how the D--Voldemort would project his thoughts over a broad area. Instead we‘re projecting our thoughts to one person. Privately, in lieu of publicly, as it were.”

“Good on you, then. And you, Hermione. So now, this first bit should be easier as well. Magic comes much faster to you now. I‘ve seen you do this yourself already when you think no one sees,” she said, chiding Severus. “First stir a gentle breeze. Light and airy, there you go.”

Between Severus and Hermione both, a collision of cool wind kicked up and swirled into a will-o-the-wisp, blowing leaves and loose bits of grasses astray in a small whirlwind.

“Oh well done, both of you. Well done. Make it stronger, fiercer now. Bend the treetops.”

And the wind became a gale, just as she asked. Hermione and Latiaran both staggered in their standing positions and Severus barely held his ground as they saw the heaviest branches of trees below them sway and bend. Somewhere below they heard a shout and someone’s hat came skimming over the top of the hill. Once again Severus and Hermione’s winds clashed to the sound of thunder and began to rush and swirl together.

“That‘s grand!” shouted Latiaran laughing. “Well and good, now! Take it down!”

Before the cyclone could really begin to do damage, it all quieted to a breeze again. Severus flicked a hand and sent the hat winging back down to the settlement somewhere below.

“Brilliant! Let‘s move on, shall we? I'd say we have that mastered, and on to the next,” said Latiaran gaily. She turned on her booted heel and began stepping down the path they had come up, stopping at an opening about a third of the way down. She dipped in, behind a gorse bush that was partially covering the cave and at once light flickered to life within.

“Tomorrow we will aid you only, Hermione, in doing a walkabout,” she said once they made their way inside. “It takes hours to prepare and to go along, though I suspect you have both been doing so unconsciously in your dreams for sometime,” she added, a merry twinkle in her eye that looked uncannily like Dumbledore’s.

“You‘ve had only a light meal this morning, haven‘t you?” the fairy asked as she stepped away from the entrance and into the cavern proper. As she did so, a fire on the far wall lit itself, illuminating a small fireplace that had been hollowed into the rock sending fragrant piny smoke up through the top of the hill.

“Just some porridge and blackberries. We were instructed not to eat anything too heavy, so it was a small bowl.”

“Good, you should be hungry again after such a trek up, yes?” She led the way toward a small pallet on the floor in front of the fireplace. It was flanked by two cushions with a table nearby holding a steaming brown betty with cups and saucers and two cloth-covered baskets.

Hermione nodded in the affirmative. “Erm, yes, a bit.”

“If you will, sit here,” said the redhead, gesturing to the pallet before she nudged a small, low table closer and kneeled on one of the cushions. “You can have a cuppa before we move on to preparations.”

Severus kneeled down on the other cushion as Hermione sat down on the pallet; Latiaran busied herself with cups and saucers, pouring the familiar fragrant brew of lavender and chamomile blossoms, with a slight tang of mugwort. It was the same concoction, Severus mused, that Lasair had used to warm and center him after his scrying lesson. He did vaguely remember listening to Trelawney wax on about the powers of both in relaxing the mind to be able to See, but since it had come from her, he barely paid it any mind at the time.

Once done with the cups, Latiaran opened the baskets to reveal a large heel of bread, a small wheel of cheese and an assortment of apples and berries. Though it was a light meal, they ate their fill before setting about unloading the packs they had worn up. The pallet on which Hermione sat was reserved for the ‘walkabout’ as Latiaran called it. The three had brought their own bed rolls, as well as large hanks of rosemary, a small pot of ointment each which Scathach claimed would aid in their journeying, and more food and water. They staked their claim on three different spots in the cavern, one side of which held a screened off bath area, complete with a large copper tub and large commode, which luckily evanesced the contents.

That afternoon, and into the evening hours, they whiled away their time relaxing before the next day’s events. Latiaran regaled them with stories of things she had seen in training. Hermione witnessed the first laugh she had ever heard from her professor as the fairy delighted them both with a story of Cian, who had rolled and slid straight down that very hill during one rainy season.

In the evening they shared another cup of tea before bed with the remaining cheese and bread. Latiaran insisted on light meals to keep them from feeling so weighted down and lethargic. It kept their minds sharp so they didn’t feel the need to dip into sleep as they journeyed. Just before sleep that night though, the girl sprinkled a few handfuls of powdered sage onto the red embers. Severus’ nose wrinkled at the smell and Hermione sneezed, eliciting a good-natured laugh from Latiaran.

“It may not be fragrant, but thanks to this little herb your night should be restful and free of dreams.”

With that, still smiling, she stepped over to her own makeshift bed and wished them both goodnight before draping the simple blanket over her and closing her eyes.

***

Next morning, after kipping on the rolled packs they had brought, they shared a sparse breakfast of fruit with seeds and nuts. Knowing what powerful magic lay ahead of them, the trio ate in silence before Severus was ushered out of the cave, left to his own musings on the hilltop proper. Whilst he was above, Latiaran began preparations for the ritual itself as Hermione bathed. The cave was fragrant now, from the hanks of rosemary added to the bathwater and a few more smoldering on the edge of the fire with some small chips of sandalwood and sprigs of dittany.

When Hermione rose from the water, Latiaran dabbed a small bit of the poplar ointment between her eyes, at the hollow of her throat, just under her ribcage and at the top of her head. Upon finishing, Hermione was draped in a deep-dyed shift the color of indigo and smelling of lavender. With that, Latiaran silently gestured to Hermione to lay down on the pallet, before she stepping quietly out to beckon Severus back inside.

They kneeled on either side of the supine girl, each one gently covering one of her hands with their own. "Breathe deep," Latiaran whispered gently, "breathe in the fragrant air and find yourself drifting into a relaxed state. Leave your worries behind to blow away on the breeze."

Severus watched as Hermione's breathing regulated, slow and deep, and her eyelids began to move rapidly.

"Feel yourself drift away, let yourself move where it will…" the fairy trailed off, leaving an open suggestion that Hermione could travel to anywhere beyond.

As her mind drifted, her body feeling like a limp piece of rope, Hermione found herself winging away to Hogwarts and floating over the grounds where it appeared clean-up from the aftermath of the battle had begun.

Healers in lime-green robes picked around bodies, still trying to do some form of triage to discern the worst of the worst that could still be saved. Scarlet robed Aurors ushered shackled and wandless Death Eaters into queues toward a makeshift apparition point where they were whisked away one at a time for processing into waiting cells at the Wizengamot.

Within the castle itself, she watched as those still alive and even some walking wounded cleared the largest piles of rubble out of doorways and assisted Aurors and Healers in rounding up those who needed to be taken away. She saw Harry and Luna working side by side, draping bodies with sheets. Ron and Hannah Abbott tended to those with small injuries, bandaging burns and scrapes with murtlap essence and dittany.

Focusing in on the two, she could barely perceive a thin golden cord connecting the two, right at chest height. Knowing that they were connected, without understanding or questioning how she knew, Hermione felt that left to his own devices, Ron would get over her eventually and find comfort with kind, even-tempered Hannah.

A flash of blonde drew her attention to Draco Malfoy, who was stooped over a prone form as he traced his wand over open wounds. She drifted closer, hearing him recite the same spell that she knew Severus had used on the boy after he and Harry fought in Myrtle's washroom. Hermione watched entranced as the wounds knitted themselves back together and Draco, the heretofore bane of her existence, nodded in grim satisfaction.

Just beyond him sat his parents in a tensely quiet conversation. Almost palpably, she could sense a wave of dour resignation from Lucius Malfoy and an air of dejection from Narcissa. She caught the phrase, "politically expedient" from the elder Malfoy, who squared his shoulders and set off to a corner of the room where Arthur Weasley attempted to levitate a large piece of rubble that blocked the door to the kitchens. She saw Arthur glance over as Lucius spoke, nod once, and step aside as Malfoy raised his wand as well, the two men completing the task where one could not.

She turned back to Narcissa to see the woman still seated, wringing her hands and watching as though at a loss. At that moment, Harry Potter came through the doorway to the great hall and seeing her alone, seated himself beside her and extended his hand saying, "thank you. It may not have ended quite the same way had you not done what you did." With a tremulous smile, Hermione was amazed to see, the lady took his hand in hers and replied, "thank you, for saving my son."

No sooner had she seen this, then Hermione felt hands clasp hers and a whisper on the breeze that said, "come back to us, Hermione. You have traveled far too long already." With that, she felt herself speeding back through castle walls, across the grounds and through the forest, miles rushing by on the wind.

"Slowly, slowly now," the whispered voice urged, and Hermione felt herself obeying. She drifted over the river and through thickets of woods, the clearings where her fellow students staged mock battles and finally, to their darkened cave at the top of Caer Spring. With a whoosh, she felt herself slide right back into body and jolt awake as Severus' hand tensed over hers.

"Oh my!" she breathed, "that was…I have no words for it!" She tried sitting up, but Latiaran would have none of it.

"Be still you, you've had quite a travel this day and will be light-headed with it. Collect yourself first and I'll be getting your tea."

Still feeling Severus' hand on hers, she squeezed it gently, feeling all at once as weak as a kitten. She took a deep breath and looked into the eyes of the man kneeling before her and burst into tears.

"It's all over," she gasped. "V-Voldemort's dead and they're clearing the castle of bodies and wounded, and-" she gulped. "I don't even think they've realized I'm gone."

"Calm yourself, Miss Granger," said Severus, so rattled that it came out as a breathless whisper. "This was quite an ordeal."

"But, Pr-sir, it was amazing," she replied. "I'm simply overwhelmed at the details of everything I saw and heard."

Latiaran again approached with a small platter of food and a cup of steaming tea. Hermione sat up gingerly and glanced around, noting for the first time how dark the cave had become. Looking at the door, she realized how long she had truly been gone, for though it was early afternoon when she began her journey, the opening of the cave showed that it was now full dark outside.

As she sipped her tea, Latiaran gently probed her to tell what all she had experienced, from the sensations she felt to what she had observed of the scenes playing out before her. Severus listened intently, only occasionally punctuating her story with a question or two.

By the time she had finished, and despite the repast, Hermione was thoroughly drained and ready for bed. And when they drifted off to a dreamless sleep again that night, thanks to Latiaran's peppering the dying fire with sprigs of sage, Severus' mind was full of wonder at the fact that his dreams and visions had not lied, for the Dark Lord was at last dead.

-----

Latiaran- pron. Lah-TEAR-uhn
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Better Fate *COMPLETE*

A Better Fate COMPLETE