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What If.....?	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 4463 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 7
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- 9
Second Half—Whispering Whitewood
The Golden Apple
Bundled in a thick cloak, Hermione sat next to a window inside and yawned by the fire. Currently she was transcribing as a punishment, given her by her teacher.
Hermione often got into trouble in the past with Harry and Ron but she was lucky to never get detention. How things had changed. Not only was she no longer a little girl—technically, she was twenty in spite of the time travel even though on paper she was said to be eighteen—and she was engaged in the most difficult school of discipline-wandless magical training—because the Mytherians did not believe in using wands. It was like starting over from square one.
The stern school teacher took an immediate dislike to her and Charlie; she couldn’t say he was anything like Professor Snape but more like Professor McGonagall.
How did things end up this way?
Half a year ago, she and General Charlie hopelessly fell into the Whispering Whitewood. After reminiscing about the past, they fell deeper into the Whitewood when Hermione’s efforts to move an enormous boulder resulted in them tumbling to the forest bottom. As ill luck would have it, they landed on the Mytherian’s second prince whose clan dwelt deep within the Whitewood.
Their hard times began.
This prince called himself Fura, but his full name was Fura Bane.
From the Kintree Clan, his clan had very ancient rules governing how unmarried men interacted with women. For instance, it was a customary practice for men, after they were married, to go on pilgrimage outside their city but being restless, Fura Bane decided he could not wait and planned to sneak out. Hermione landed on him, knocking him unconscious. Squished between her and Fura was Charles Martel.
All three of them were arrested and taken to the Queen. Fortunately, Hermione immediately understood that the Mytherian’s had limited contact with outsiders, so she made up a great fib in order to help protect them. She explained that she and Charles Martel were diplomats. Hermione winked at Charlie so he would support her lie. Unfortunately, he had a brain that was denser than steel. He simply stared at her for the longest time, and the moment was missed.
Because of the injury sustained by the prince, no one knew if he would recover or not. The Queen was so upset she ordered that they be executed for their attack on her son. Until a method was to be decided, they were to wait in the dungeons. Luckily, no sooner did they arrive in the dungeons that the prince awoke and clarified the situation.   They were removed from the dungeon and the Queen and her court decided that she and Charlie must be the prince and princess from the clan on the opposite of the forest—the Aaroy Clan. The two siblings were known to cause trouble and were supposed to arrive to attend their academy. Hermione immediately agreed—if the real prince and princess arrived then she would cross that bridge. Of course she had no way of knowing that the two had cancelled their plans and the message that was supposed to be delivered to the Queen was lost. When death was on the table a person was quite willing to agree to be anything. Still, she was not going to argue with good fortune.
As a result, although none of this made sense, Hermione and Charlie—who she learned later was five years older than her—were now enrolled at the Kintree Academy. In a way it was a stroke of luck because attending a school was what Hermione had always wanted. Never in a million years did she imagine she would be receiving instruction in a magical skill that was so difficult that there were no experts anywhere else but in the Whitewood.
Hermione was naturally good at school but for the first time, she found she was challenged. She could not even light a candle and so was moved to the beginner’s courses, filled with children all half her age. What made her nervous was General Charlie—he seemed to be the kind of person who disliked rules and being ordered about.
This made her anxious, but as it turns out, he was surprisingly obedient. He accepted the Queen’s order’s with humility, all while keeping his eyes glued on a veiled young woman who sat across the room. Hermione did not think anything of it then.
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In the first few days, Hermione still had thoughts of escaping this forest. But after a little exploring, she discovered there was indeed no way out. There might have been a solution if she could use a wand, but the strange thing about this valley was that one could only use magic within the imperial city boundaries. Not even the most powerful magic worked once they stepped away from the city. At first she thought of transporting from within the city. The magic would be used while inside to transport them to the city’s entrance. The result: she and General Charlie moved from the west side of the city to the east side, landed into a widow's home while she was bathing, and got chased out with a broomstick by her blind mother-in-law.
Afraid she would be stuck here indefinitely, for half a month Hermioine’s anxiety would increase day by day. She thought of the culprit who caused her to be trapped under here –Lucius Malfoy. She wanted to keep her distance from him, but among all life-forms outside this valley, Lucius was the only one who knew she had fallen down here. Therefore, she waited and waited for him to come save her. Of course she knew she had offended him just before falling into this forest. She would go so far as to say that maybe she offended simply by existing. But she thought it made less sense to leave her here and more sense to rescue her; no matter how you looked at it, it was to his advantage while leaving her missing could create problems for him.
It'd be impossible to expect his arrival only after three or four days. She gave him some time to cool down. If he came after one month and took her home then she'd generously waive his misdeed for bringing her to his duel and its consequential danger. Despite rumors which claimed the Whispering Whitewood only opened up every year, she believed that if Lucius wanted to save her, he would certainly find a way.
But a month, two months, then three months passed by, and Lucius was still nowhere to be seen.

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The Whispering Whitewood was utterly depressing at all times of the day, but especially at night. This was because it was a forest of white trees, all of which appeared to be dead and skeletal as if someone sucked the life from them. They grew thickly however, meaning one could easily become lost within the sprawling wood, and worse, because the wood had a naturally producing miasma, it was easy to become confused and hallucinate within the wood. Places like the city were safe because the trees were removed. Even more macabre than the trees was the fact that the trees themselves produced a red pigment which caused the grass and the water to appear blood red. To say it looked like someone’s nightmare was not very far from the truth. During the current winter snow, the snow seemed to be speckled with blood stains, as if hundreds of murders took place.
Hermione rolled herself in a blanket and occasionally thought to herself how petty Lucius had been. He may not like her, but she thought that because he placed so much value in appearances it would be to his advantage to rescue her. Wasn’t this the very reason why he donated to many charities? But as she turned in bed, she came to think differently – such a thing was actually hard to say.
When she was still his student, she understood Lucius well. He had always been cold toward everyone and everything.
Madeline Fournier was perhaps the only exception in this great big world. Normally she tried her best to keep her calm demeanor. But as it turned out she had yet to reach the age of tranquil reflection. Only the fact that Lucius hadn't come to her rescue saddened her for days.
When at last her mood lifted, she thought realistically and willed herself to wait for the Whispering Whitewood to open again. If she were to think again, this place wasn't so bad. Compared to all the times she donned a disguise and pretended to be someone she wasn’t, this was tenfold better. At least she could be herself. Furthermore, she was receiving an education that could not be replicated anywhere else in the world.
Her family would probably look for her, but they shouldn't be too worried knowing she'd never get herself in significant dangers. She cheered up after these thoughts.
At this point in time, half a year had swiftly passed by.
On a lightly snowing day under soft sunlight, Hermione had written ten copies of scriptures. She carefully held the parchment by its corners and blew on it so the ink could dry. Then she folded it up and planned on handing it to her teacher tomorrow.
The Kintree academy held a tournament every ten years to test its students. The victor's prize was that year's Golden Apple which grew on the tree next to the Blood Spring. The Blood Spring was a holy spring in the Whispering Whitewood. It started at the Inner Palace and on its bank stood a tree which bore golden apples. This tree flowered every 10 years, bore fruit every 10 years thereafter, and only one fruit each cycle at that. The fruit differed each time and contained different magical uses contingent on that year's harvest. According to legend, the golden apple tree was one of five magical trees in the entire world.
The other four were the Wishing Tree, Yggdrasil, or the Tree of Life, the Cursed Peach Tree, and the Lotus Tree Of these five trees, the only ones actually confirmed to exist were the Golden Apple Tree and the Lotus Tree. Yggdrasil bore fruit said to grant you immortality while the Wishing Tree was said, as the name suggested, to grant any wish. The Lotus Tree made one forget everything and everyone they loved and you would spend your days wanting to eat its fruit while the Cursed Peach Tree reportedly only existed in hell and made anyone who ate its fruit suffer untold horrors. The Lotus Tree was in China and apparently locked away.
There used to be more golden apple trees, but for reasons unknown, over a thousand years ago, for some reason all the trees ceased to bear fruit. Today, there was only one tree left next to the Blood Spring in the Whispering Whitewood which still bore fruits. It became even more precious for this reason. It was shrouded in legend, and many didn't believe it existed--much like the Whispering Whitewood itself, few were really aware it existed.
Moreover, rumors had it that this year's fruit still held a miraculous power. It was said that the fruit could save any person who was dying, and some even whispered that it might be able to resurrect the dead—a truly impossible thing that no form of magic could ever hope to do; or kill anyone no matter how powerful they were. After going back so far in time Hermione was inclined to keep an open mind. Because this fruit's potency was so extraordinary, there wasn't one student who didn't vie for it. The competition hadn't started but excitement had already spread everywhere.
Such was the power the mustached-teacher received from the Queen. Because the number of competitors were twice as many as the year before, there wasn't a single school that could accommodate all of them. The Academy informed the Queen and she decided this teacher would streamline the process by filtering the applicants pre-competition. Thus under royal edict, the mustached-teacher's one word could decide who would compete versus who would not. His power in the Academy was now the greatest, bar none.
Hermione found some time, slipped to the Blood Spring and looked to the distance where the golden apple tree grew. In a dead forest, it stood out as the only thing in the entire forest that held any signs of life. It was a rather brilliant sight for the eyes. She stood from afar and fixed her gaze on it for a long time. If that tiny fruit could really bring back the flesh and bones of the dead, she wanted to try her luck just once to save someone she used to know who had long been deceased.
Hermione absolutely could not offend the powerful teacher who could help her attain that golden fruit. When he punished her to copy scriptures, she couldn't argue or rebuke him no matter how wronged she felt. If she had to transcribe, then she shall transcribe. She started to become obedient with her entire body and mind. In addition, she thought of every way which would erase her misdemeanors in the past. Not only did she now have to be obedient, she had to kiss up to him as well.

But how would she go about flattering her teacher? Hermione knitted her brow and opened her workbook. This kind of thing was what people housed in Slytherin excelled at—her ability in this area was less than zero. But she had transcribed it ten times. Hadn't she shown her reverence for the teacher this way? Was this not also a kind of flattery? Yet she still felt a little worried. What if she were to add at the bottom: ‘May you enjoy boundless blessings and a long life’?
No, what if the teacher wasn't in the mood to read, and never got to the end. Then wouldn't her effort have been in vain? It was still best to write that loathsome blandishment at the top of the page. She brought up the quill ready to write, but as she watched the snow accumulate outside the windowpanes, she became puzzled for half a day. What was her teacher’s name?
At that time, Charlie Martel with half of his body covered in snow hastily stepped in. Because they were thought to be the royal siblings of the Aaroy Clan, they were arranged to stay in the same compound.
Charlie Martel seemed to have learned that the veiled woman was none other than Madeline Fournier who was sent with hopes that she would compete in the competition from the outside. Every day when school was let out, he'd stop by her place for a chat and thus had little time left to bother Hermione. Half a year went by thusly in amicable peace at the large estate.
Hermione raised her head toward Charlie who was now adjusting his robe and asked, “Do you know what our teacher’s name is?”
Utterly surprised, Charlie replied, “Isn't Professor called Professor?” Then he stepped closer and excitedly asked, “The old geezer has another name?”
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