REVISION - just for those who may be wondering, Wandless magic as in this fanfic (chapter 22) is based on an idea that they have it when young and is provoked by fear, anger etc. by extremes. And they then grow out of it, losing the talent as they learn the structured form of using a wand. Therefore any adult magicians left with the ability are VERY rare.
Also for any who are confused by the ending of this chapter, reread the previous chapter carefully and it will make more sense, perhaps my hints are a little too subtle or tenuous, but they are there. There is a reason.
Chapter 23
"Tempestuous Realities"
~~
A blind love we had
But never saw
Denied I guess
Faked
Into blankness
Not a kiss to be adored
Our misfortune framed instead
Couldn't be, wouldn't let it be
A blind love - yes
Saw nothing more than him and her
Saw nothing more than what could be
Of what might be
That maybe would hurt the other
So strong it wouldn't be
So strong they'd deny it
If it meant one iota of pain felt
So strong distance meant nothing
Years, time, pointless
The hold of it gathering to
Wherever, whenever
The hold of it no one else's to brake
Not even theirs, not their choice
So strong
Because
Its fate
And some things depend on
What must be
For the world to be
~
##Hermione##
She picked up the cup; downing the sweet milky tea she needed to wake herself up.
An 8 o'clock start. Such fun.
But her editor had been adamant she cover the story. Down to London it was then.
Commuting on the train. Crammed like a sardine. Lovely.
She gathered her keys together and left the newspaper on the table unread, waving a short flutter of the hand to a rather muggy looking Harry. He yawned and nodded in recognition, and so she departed. Wondering what today would hold.
+++++
##Elianne##
They woke to a shrill sound of a magical alarm.
Crowding round the window they saw already grouped together figures down on the field being instructed into formation.
All questions about to be voiced were interrupted by the barrage of several Gryffindor prefects who hurdled them out of the dorm. To the awaiting queues and huddles of students below the castle on the drizzly morn.
+++++
##Harry##
He picked up the unfinished letter. Written to Elianne.
Somehow he'd got side tracked on things.
The key opened the lock, to what he'd been missing those years.
Ironic it was her that had done it. all his daughter seemed to be intent of creating was one perfect happy family. With him and her adoptive mother together.
She just didn't know that it would at least in one brief meaning be an again.
Or could have been if Hermione hadn't said what she'd said to him.
Back in seventh year. The words he'd hated to think ever since.
***
Why was what had always got me.
I knew all the reasons. But then they were totally useless to me.
She only gave one, the biggest. -Save the friendship. Don't risk it.-
And I agreed.
Before that it was unspoken. I'd known as much by the way we forced ourselves to act.
But then she'd voiced the concern.
And even better, what bugged me is I knew that wasn't it.
It could have been true. It sounded perfectly logical, sensible, emotionally right.
But it wasn't her reason; it was her excuse.
And it bothered me further that she could not trust me. That she thought it an unbound problem, unsolvable alone or between us.
And that was why things changed to how they'd become in that last year, what was left of it.
My love ceased to be a longing, a pining. Instead I was angry, angry at her for doing this to herself and mostly to me. She'd made a choice that effected both of us. Not simply her. I felt she had no right to do the right thing as she felt. Not when she wouldn't tell me what it was for, when it damned me too.
That was what the leaving was about.
After graduation I left for France.
Embittered over how screwed my life had been so far.
And I found something I wasn't expecting.
Love.
Liza May.
Or May as she preferred.
Lived in France most her life.
Was an orphan, like me.
Had been in hiding alot, moving from families and friends. Never with a true home.
She gave the impression she lacked much understanding of wizarding.
She was a witch and had acquired adequate skills in basics and a few areas. Potions was one.
She loved potions, as she'd cooked for herself over the years at a young age. Paying her way with those talents she'd had.
I'd barely realised how things could be so different for a magical person. Not going to school, not being taught, not getting qualifications - an introduction into the world. Or a family.
I found I felt a certain bonding to her. Her hardship worse than mine in some ways, Though not as deep in other.
She'd had plenty of people who'd cared for her, friends. Just that she had always moved on.
I wondered if it was part of her defence mechanism to avoid getting attached.
I wondered because I wondered if I'd end up left by her like the others she'd known.
That never happened.
I stayed there and helped her, taught her magic, befriended her.
When it came time to leave, we couldn't leave each other.
In the time that had been idyllically spent in Paris, I'd forgotten my anger, my pain. May made it all go away. Her happy smiling face constantly lit with pleasure, an adoration of the world.
Like she was constantly suddenly freed and taking in everything possible.
That never left her much.
She settled down a bit.
But always she smiled that great adorable smile.
And I allowed myself to think I loved her.
Maybe I did
For that while.
A year.
Hermione didn't come into it.
She'd made her choice.
And I'd turned round and made mine.
I'd have happiness. The pain would go away.
May did that for me.
Hermione was Hermione, my best friend. The way she'd wanted.
I never shed tears for her about it.
She took it well.
It made me think I was doing the right thing. She didn't show any sign of being heartbroken. Almost as if there never was anything between us and so I went right on and said the solemn words on my wedding day.
Somehow in retrospect it looks like Hermione caused this all. The beginning of the path I took shaped by her. Whatever it was that made her do what she did.
However it was not Hermione who lay in blame.
It was May's fault, she betrayed me I'm sure.
And it was my fault for never checking up on her, for being naive, ignoring what even Ron could see plainly.
Blame seems pointless when I think of it today.
For we all played a serious part in it.
Why did it have to end like this?
I'd lost 10 years of my life, and of my daughters.
I'd burdened Hermione with Elianne's upbringing. Ruined her relationship with her parents and with finding her true love.
Though I can't help but think.
Were we ever really out of love?
My feelings are so confused. This just isn't the time to explore anything. There's little time left now though.
I'm left forever thinking. What should I do? Knowing that sometime I will have to make it up to her and to us all. But now is not that instance.
***
He hauled his face up from his morose trance.
A Hogwarts owl sat on the desk in front.
An official stamp on the letter.
The writing scrawled hastily.
~
What is the world today
In chains people are
Do they live
All there is, is the frail
If we live, we're broken
So much unspoken
Taboo - lips sealed
No voice - can't heal
The past is done
No one will move on
A sad tune forever playing
A concerto
For my dead mother
No nurture, no cure
Living; if it is
Left dampened, the sound dull
Ears not wanting the words
Won't listen
Looking to the only love
The short star on the tree
Wonky, chipped and grated
Pretending its like it was
That you can still adore it
Why not how it is?
Not so bad really
It's not perfect
Far from it
Please accept it
Cherish it for what it was, could be somewhere else
Don't lie though
The world - its stuck
Stopped moving
Core shaking
Ready to break apart
Lies did no good
It could not go on
Whatever you said
The past doesn't seem that close
Yet we are always within it
Don't we see that
Or are we in a clouded mirror
A patch untouched - never escaping
Not trying
~
##Hermione##
She pulled up in the taxi and peered up at the great arch of the royal academy of art.
The sign swung outside in the courtyard. Advertising the Ancient Germanic Exhibition. A rolled sticker slapped over it clearly stating it was cancelled until further notice.
She walked through the hall, flashing a press pass and quick explanation at the busy ticket desk. She proceeded up the steps. Ready to be greeted by Thomas Hall.
She checked her watch, 11.14am. More or less on time for her interview.
A pleasant man said a hurried hello to her, escorting her to the crime scene quickly.
The police scrambled round the massive empty plinth. Odd officers dusting for prints and carefully searching for any evidence left by the perpetrators.
"There it is… or was" he announced.
She moved round to the sight, noting the vastness of what should have been standing there.
"It took quite a bit of man power to get the thing in here. Weighs thirty tonnes. Shipped from Germany. Specially for the new exhibit. Of course now that's been postponed."
She raised any eyebrow at his discourse whilst jotting down the facts.
"What was it exactly? Any idea why it was stolen?" she said as she continued to walked around the area.
"Have a looked at the photos. Taken just a few days ago. When it was freshly installed. No mean feat. Yet they plucked it out from under our noses. No idea how. Not with something that heavy."
She examined the photos carefully, finding the monolithic structure peculiar.
He answered her forthcoming question as if it was one he practically expected by default.
" Jacobs slab. Named after Alyssa Jacobs, the archaeologist who found it. Dug it up in West Germany. Mind you no one has come up with a better name, merely because they don't know what it is."
He moved over next to her, pointing to a space on the picture.
"They've got theories you see but nothing adds up. Right there, there's out-crops with holes carved into the stone. Some say it was a sacrificial monument, with the victim bound in using ropes, through the holes. But nothing would survive like that so they really can't tell if that's true. Besides if it is that, its never been used. It hasn't got a single weapon mark or bloodstain on it. Excuse me for putting it so bluntly as to be gruesome."
She smiled faintly at his politeness.
"That's ok Mr. Hall. I've heard much worse." She silently thought I've seen much worse.
He carried on explaining it as she listened with interest about the unusual exhibit.
"Others have guessed at what it was. Temporary coffin, used for a wake. Even a 'meditation platform' or some sort of solitary confinement station. Truth is no one knows. And it isn't worth anything to anyone who isn't in the museum business. Past that the reasons or better yet the humungous how they got away with something akin to small house is damn spooky."
She looked up at him, knowing full well any ideas she had of how it could be thieved wouldn't go down well on a muggle or with her editor, judged there and then that there wasn't much else here to go on. Except for 'mysterious' disappearances. Strange phenomena this was not.
+++++
##Snape##
Snape overlooked the children, who diligently lined up to board the carts to the train station.
All parents had been informed. At least all the owls had been sent to deliver correspondence to their homes. He doubted they'd all be at the platform to greet their dear prodigies.
If not never mind. They'd all get sent somewhere.
Somewhere safer than this.
He forked off his duties to a prefect. He knew Charlotte was responsible enough to gather the lost Slytherins before the carriages departed.
He had more pressing responsibilities.
The attacks had begun far earlier than intelligence had testified. But then they had been out of the ranks for a while. Only one agent was still inside the cults lines.
They'd hadn't reported for months. Now seemed like the perfect time to call up their missing comrade. At a place prior to any risk to him and when they needed all he knew most. Severus Snape shifted into the shadows as he knew how to best and made for the rendezvous point. Ready to for briefing and action.
Anything to stop them from doing more damage than they already had.
Perhaps a little too late for Hogwarts. The wards had fallen in the early hours of the night, a little after sunrise.
They lacked the knowledge of how they'd been broken.
But more urgently there was the rest of the world to defend.
~~
My thoughts
Ring around
Head deep down
Something stirring
Nothing right today
What was it?
That I said
Should it be safe?
Here
Where I should have nothing to fear
Safety being
Not enough
Doesn't shake
Any worries away
Thinking of
Not enough
How do I fill
A place that lye's so still
And far past me
Did not find
Not sure
It makes a difference
My thoughts
Still whirring
Not settling
For nothing can settle me
~
##Harry##
He climbed through the masses of passengers departing the nearest train on no.3.
He didn't stop to look before running through the barrier to get Elianne.
All he could think of was, 'was she safe?'
He grasped her agonizingly tightly in his arms the moment she came off the Hogwarts Express.
She would have said something about the fuss except none of the students were in the spirits for anything much more than a forced smile, that turned to frowns after the first few seconds.
He stood there with Elianne and friends, not knowing what to do.
The other girls glanced around worriedly, obviously not seeing any signs of their parents.
Professor Isaacs walked up to the girls handing them a letter each, all except for Elianne.
"I'm afraid the whole country is on alert. Hogwarts wasn't the only place that was attacked. As I understand, many students' guardians did not reply to the emergency letters. In circumstances such as those you are to proceed to the nearest safe house and stay put for the time being. I know this must be hard but its evacuation procedure. All for your own good."
The young teacher looked squarely at Harry for a minute, curiously.
"Who are you? A relative of Elianne's I suppose?"
He hesitated, wishing he could say the truth, knowing it wasn't wise to. He hazarded a rough answer.
"Elianne's guardians boyfriend. George Tiller. Hermione couldn't make it. She was out at work when I got the owl." He held out a hand ready for an embrace. Isaacs just nodded, accepting what he'd said.
"Where do you live?"
Harry fumbled in his mind for the name.
Elianne beat him to it "The green cottage, its on the floo"
"Good enough. You'll be sent via the fireplace in the stationmasters' office. The rest of you girls better go, it doesn't look like there will be anywhere else and nicer to stay with a friend, hey?" he tried to prompt a smile out of the group.
Dido was gracious enough to be polite. Hers even looked half true as she turned her lips upward slightly to the handsome man.
"This way then" he said, motioning them to follow. "Once you've gone through the link to the floo network will be locked down for security. Leaving you time for a holiday of sorts. Plenty of time for reading and homework."
They tagged on to his trail to the room.
Watching idly as they passed the other queues of children and parents being led to transport back to what was hoped to be shelter.
+++++
##Hermone##
She opened the door to the beep of the answering machine.
Deciding to ignore it in favour of slumping into her favourite armchair.
She forgot all about having some tea, reading the papers. She absolutely desparately required rest. 2hours standing up on the train was agony. All she wanted now was a shower.
That would take the pain away.
She closed her eyes.
Imagining the warm water rinsing over her.
Washing the aches down the drain.
Wet, slick, perfect for relaxing in.
Steamy air all around, keeping her temperature steadily heated and most of all comfy.
She opened her eyes to the realization she wasn't in the living room anymore.
The water dripped down over her face.
Blinding her.
She struggled to step out of the shower, pulling a towel off the rail as she did to cover herself in. Her clothes soaked. She cried at it.
***
What had just happened?
She sat on the bed shivering but not out of coldness.
It was like before. More serous though this time.
She wished for something - and it happened.
Nice in a fairyland. But in the real world it scared her.
What if she got mad at someone and then she wanted them to….
No. This was not good.
She didn't like it.
Where to go?
St. Mungo's? She'd never heard of anything remotely similar to this. What if they couldn't treat it?
Harry? Where was he? What if she hurt him with this?
Who was there? Was here anyone she could trust this to?
***
A noise stirred her from her seat.
She called out from the bedroom nervously.
"Who's there?"
A flash of movement in the mirror caught her attention and she crooked around to establish its source.
She never got a chance to finish deciding where she'd go.
There was smash and a cloud of coloured smoke enveloped her. She couldn't help but breathe it in, there simply was no other air.
And in the few hazy moments she experienced, her vision blurred by whatever potion they'd surprised her with, she was surrounded by a robed gang. All reaching out to her. Going to carry her away. And in amongst the faces she saw as the moved her, she thought she saw a familiar glimpse. Of long black hair and a woman with violet eyes. Who smiled somewhat viciously at her.
"Welcome home Hermione" she purred in a silky voice "you've no idea how long we've been waiting for you."
~