Chapter Ten - An Underhill Family Reunion and Back Again
The bright white light disappeared as if someone had flipped a switch. Without any of the sensations that usually accompanied magical transportation, Hermione found herself standing in a large open room. The walls were wood paneled, the floor was dressed stone and the furnishings all had that air of age and comfort to them. A fireplace was merrily crackling at one end of the room; it was set up for cooking with a large cauldron bubbling over it.
At the other end of the room, a woman with dark wavy hair sat on a table, dressed in clothes that were very finely made, but out of a costume drama from the Middle Ages. Smiling, she was watching Hermione as she pushed her hair back behind her ears, which were a bit pointed. Radiating an air of power, she looked expectantly, as if she were waiting for something.
"Would it be rude to ask where I've ended up?" Watching the woman at the end of the room cautiously, Hermione noticed that her eyes flashed with a light of mischief and something else that she couldn't quite place.
"You've an air about you much as your Grandfather did, but you're much too serious." The woman answered, looking Hermione over with an appraising glance. "I'm not criticizing, but you're a bit stuffy for being Martin Granger's granddaughter." Smiling warmly she pushed herself off the table she had been perched upon and approached Hermione.
"Considering my grandfather never returned from France during the war forty years before I was born, I'm sorry his influence is totally lacking in myself." Hermione replied a bit stiffly, wondering exactly how this woman who wasn't that much older than her could be speaking of her grandfather so familiarly.
"Peace child, you're the spitting image of my bonnie Sandy when you get your back up." Laughing, the woman extended her hand to Hermione with the palm up. "As bonnie a lad that ever charmed a lass, but he would bristle like a boar if he thought he'd been slighted." Smiling mischievously, she slyly added. "That laddie of yours is correct, you do need to learn to play, and it'll make your life a bit more agreeable."
"That was Harry, not Ron." Stopping herself, she began to look at the other woman a bit warily. "And I'm certain no one was around when we were discussing that." Looking at the woman's dress, the fey light in her eyes, and the delicately pointed ears she began to blush. "You're one of the good folk of the hills, aren't you?"
Laughing again, Hermione could hear the pealing of delicate bells in the sound, as the other woman clapped her hands in delight. "Aye, and sure who else would I be? But my manners are atrocious, Hermione Jane Granger, daughter of Alexander and Helen Granger. The Scots called me Mab, the Irish Maeve, but your English poets named me Titania, of all things." Smiling impishly, she pirouetted gracefully. "Honestly, do I look like a Titania? It makes me sound so cold and imperial. Names make the woman, you know."
"Really now." Getting a bit irritated, Hermione crossed her arms and glared at the Queen of the Elves. "But, you're correct; I think I like `Maeve' better for you than Titania." Watching the other woman nod in acquiescence, Hermione could feel the concept of her mysterious hostess settle into her mind as Maeve. "And I suppose that I'd have been a different person if my mother had named me Susan or Elizabeth?" The other woman had an unbelievably smug look on her face. Studying her, Hermione began to notice the small but exotic differences about her.
"Not totally different. If your grandfather had returned from that war, I'd like to think your father would have been in a position to listen to a wee bit of advice. If your mother was so intent on an exotic name for their daughter, I would have suggested a couple." Stepping back and looking appraisingly at Hermione, she tilted her head to one side. "However, looking at you now, I can see you as a Morrigan, definitely."
Laughing, Hermione leaned back against a table and looked at her hostess with disbelief. "That would have been a lovely choice. Why not go all out and have them call me `Megaera' or `Tisiphone'? That would have made my childhood oh so much better."
"Never liked those two, very pushy women. Morri and I always got along, though she took herself very seriously. Always had to be `The Morrigan' unless you'd known her for at couple of centuries, at least. The world became a much more boring place once she decided to retire from the mortal realms." Eyeing Hermione with a glint in her eye, she added slyly, "You do have a bit of that Tisiphone complex going for you, especially when it comes to that young man of yours."
Smirking in return, Hermione shook her head. "Preposterous. When have I gone all `avenging angel' over Ron?"
Laughing, Maeve gleefully clapped her hands as she regarded Hermione with a look of pure affection. "You are so my bonnie Sandy's child in spirit as well as by blood, though a few times removed. He would have approved of you. Very headstrong, too intelligent for everyone's comfort and you wouldn't recognize your own heart if you tripped over it."
"Whatever are you going on about? Sandy who?"
"Ach lassie, Alexander of Dunkeld*. Right bonnie King of Scots he was. Chased any lass in a skirt that caught his eye, whether she was a crofter's daughter or wife of a noble lord. Captured my heart for a while and he was the father of my own bonnie bairn Robin Granger. I actually cried when the poor fool got his self killed."
Stunned, Hermione put her hand to her mouth. "My great-great-great grandfather was named Robin Granger. He died in China during a siege in the 1860s."
Looking contrite for once, the other woman bit her lip and lowered her eyes. "Robin came home at my insistence. He'd spent too long in the mortal realms and was in danger of becoming lost to the Folk. It pained me greatly to bring him home; he loved his wife so much he didn't speak to me for almost forty years afterwards."
Becoming grim, Hermione lashed out. "You incorrigible fraud. You were pained? How do you think my great-great-great grandmother felt? She mourned her husband, lost in a war far away. She never even got to say goodbye!" Almost shouting, Hermione's eyes were flashing a dangerous glint. "Have you come to collect another `wayward' child for your house? Is Harry going to be left to wonder and mourn when I never come back from America?" Biting back tears, she stared defiantly at the elven woman.
Drawing herself up, Maeve looked straight into Hermione's eyes. "Robin went back for his bonnie Kate the day she `died'. He left a glamour in her place and brought her home to the halls. That was when he spoke to me and asked me for an oath regarding his family as the honor price for her suffering."
Walking over she laid her hand on the frame of the An Bratach Sith. "You were brought here by your blood and the power of my cloak. The cloak recognized the elven blood and brought you home to me." Smiling, she nodded her head. "After we've had our talk, I'll have you return what's left of my cloak to the MacLeod and you can return to your bonnie lads. But we do need to talk."
Calming herself, Hermione watched the other woman carefully. Holding up her cut thumb, she smiled grimly. "I take it this is what you meant by `my blood'?"
"Aye, merely touching the banner would have done nothing. It would have recognized your right by blood and it would have allowed your touch without harm to you. But your spilt blood triggered a reaction in it and it brought you to a safe place." Smiling warmly, she waved her hand around at her surroundings. "It brought you home."
"And if I hadn't had the right by blood?" Hermione looked warily at the banner, propped against the leg of the chair like an innocent wall hanging.
"Then another object lesson to the powers of the An Bratach Sith to protect itself and its own would have been had. But you did have that right, so none's the worse."
Taking her wand, Hermione cast a silent reparo on the frame. "That should keep unintended fingers from incurring your wrath." Looking defiantly at the other woman, silence grew between them.
Finally breaking the standoff, the elven woman sighed. "It's not my wrath, child. Objects like the An Bratach Sith almost have a mind of their own and tend to have their own rules regarding behavior and the like. It was a token of a pledge between an earlier MacLeod and myself. It was meant to protect and prosper the MacLeods, but Scotland was a very different place in those days, so its protections are a bit `severe' by your standards."
Sighing in return, Hermione relented, a bit. "Leaving all that aside, you've said some fairly preposterous things since I've been here. You can't blame me for being a bit off after all this."
Her smile returning, Maeve nodded in Hermione's direction. "True, and while old home week is always interesting, we should talk about a couple of things." Holding up her hand to forestall the next question, she shook her head. "And no, I can't interfere in the mortal realms to the extent to tell you where your missing friend is."
Seeing the look of frustration on Hermione's face she added. "I can tell you that you have the key to finding her, but you'll need all of your ingenuity to pull it off. You must remember to think, Hermione Jane." Grinning at the look on Hermione's face, she added, "Once you're rescued the lass, then you can go all `avenging angel' as you so quaintly put it."
"Why am I here? Really. The banner could have taken me anywhere to be safe, so why here?" Intrigued, Hermione relaxed as she leaned against the table behind her. Watching the elven woman, her mind began to recognize the other woman's moods and methods.
"Honestly, I'm fulfilling my oath to my son, and paying part of the suffering price your great-great-great grandmother is owed. You should remember what the elf you know as Cooks with Thunder said. The Seelie Court isn't motivated by what you mortals determine as good and evil. We bind ourselves with traditions and oaths. You are the only child of your generation so I have watched you, off and on, since your birth."
Beginning to pace, Maeve walked around the room, examining items on shelves and tables in an air of reminiscence. "I was there the night your young man faced down Tom Riddle, and I watched your prowess in the battle that followed. If you would have asked for help, I would have answered, as your cause against the oath-breaker Riddle was just by our laws. Even though you didn't know to ask, any plea I would have interpreted as a request against the bonds of family."
Shaking her head wryly, Hermione looked at Maeve in amazement. "With all of the deaths and evil that Tom Riddle caused, you would only move against him because he had broken his oath?"
Stopping, the elven queen turned and faced the bubbling cauldron, placing her hand upon the ornate torc that surrounded her neck. Shaking her head at what she could see in the mists rising from the cauldron, she began to speak. "He broke his oaths to his fellow students when he allowed that creature to terrorize your school. Kin-slayer I name him when he murdered his father and grandparents. Kin-slayer again I name him when he murdered his uncle for material gain. He abused the laws of hospitality when he slew that witch for material gain. And he abused the responsibilities of power and family when he slew a retainer who was defending his family home. Oathbreaker I name him as he swore he wasn't pursuing that abominable knowledge of sundering his soul to escape the judgment of death. By our laws and customs, I would have gladly ended his life and plans, if you would have asked."
Turning to look at Hermione, she drew herself up, and wrapped herself in the glamour that was a part of her. Hermione could see the ancient queen that the Celts of the seven ancient lands had venerated centuries ago. A cold chill settled over her as she realized just how `other' this woman really was.
Biting her lip, Hermione watched Maeve warily. "Twice you've said something regarding Harry as if he and I were together. Why?"
Laughing, Maeve shrunk within herself and she was nothing more than an exotic woman with a love of mischief. "You've come a long way child. Thanks to your Harry, you've learned to listen to your heart instead of your mind. You care for your Ron and he cares for you, but the two of you are as ill-suited a pair as I have ever seen. Your heart cares for him, as does his for you, that makes you companions and friends, not lovers." Looking sadly at her, she tilted her head as she continued. "Your friendship with Harry has made you able to do that. Soon will come a time when you'll have to listen with your soul, not just your heart. When you do that, you'll know what I meant when I spoke of your Harry."
Picking up the framed An Bratach Sith, she strode over to where Hermione stood and handed her the banner of the MacLeods. "I promised that I'd return you to your friends. I'm very proud of you and I believe your grandfather would have been proud of you, also. You'll find some differences in your life because of your contact with my old cloak, embrace the changes and you'll prosper."
Leaning forward, she kissed Hermione of both cheeks and on her forehead. Hermione felt a surge of power that settled deep within her as the elven queen released her and stepped back. "Remember to think and you'll save your friend and start solving the mystery of whom opposes you and your friends."
A bright white light began to come from Maeve. Overwhelming Hermione's eyes, she averted her head as the room around her disappeared. Suddenly the cavern surrounded her that she had left so suddenly not that long ago. Blinking, she looked around to see everyone staring at her. Everyone, that is except for a certain house-elf.
"Hermione, where'd you disappear to?" Oscar whispered. "One second you're grabbing the flag away from this dark wizard and then its flash, bang, and you're gone."
Shaking herself, Hermione looked wearily at Oscar. "Merlin's sake. It's not like it's a secret, Oscar. Everyone left in here noticed I disappeared." Nodding towards the corpse of the dark wizard who had died summoning the uktena, she grimaced. "I think he's the only one in here who didn't notice. I have no idea where, other than I went to visit my fairy godmother." Glaring at Cooks with Thunder, she asked. "Isn't that right?"
"Silver Otter, no one was more surprised than I when you disappeared. However I knew where the An Bratach Sith would have taken you once you left. I also knew that the Queen of the Hills would return you here promptly. She only wished to meet you and see for Herself what you had made of your heritage."
"You knew?" Incredulously, Hermione stared at the house-elf in disbelief. "You didn't think that a mention of the fact I was related to this entire goose chase might be appropriate?" Dissolving into sputtering disbelief, Hermione could do nothing but stare at the elf. His calm, dispassionate gaze in return seemed to draw her into it. She could see the emotions behind those placid eyes, and suddenly she understood exactly why she had been drawn to the plight of house-elves for all these years. "I'll be."
Calming down, she began to appreciate the position that her friend had found himself in. "You could only tell me what she allowed. And I'm certain you pushed the bounds of what you were allowed." Carefully setting the framed banner on the ground, she dropped into a curtsey and smiled. "I thank you for your friendship and assistance. And on behalf of my great-great-great-great grandmother, I apologize for the discourtesy shown you by putting you in this position."
Breaking into a grin, Cooks with Thunder bowed in return, holding his bow for a full ten seconds before he spoke. "My service to you and your esteemed family." Straightening up, he laughed. "She's going to be madder than a puka since you've obligated Her by your apology. Which was your intention all along, I can see."
Shaking his head, he stopped laughing. "I believe that your guests are waiting to answer some questions for you." Indicating the two smugglers who were sitting there, watching the three with wondering eyes, Cooks with Thunder glared menacingly in their direction.
Looking from the two smugglers to the three surviving dark wizards who were struggling to free themselves, magically silenced to reduce the annoyance of their threats and imprecations as well as inhibit them from casting spells. "I take it our other three guests aren't willing to discuss things, no?" Smiling at Oscar, she attempted to reassure him. "Everything is fine. As soon as I find out what our two travelers know, we'll discuss Terri's whereabouts with our three friends in the robes."
Walking over to the two smugglers, Hermione smiled reassuringly. "Good evening Herr Merveaux, Monsieur Cranston. I believe you were talking about someone who had warned you regarding my humble self before we were so rudely interrupted." Nodding to Merveaux, Hermione attempted to encourage the pair to be forthcoming. "You were mentioning a `she' who had warned you about me?" Smiling sweetly, Hermione twirled her wand to emphasize the point that she didn't need to be so accommodating.
"Ja fraulein. Our employer varned us about you, but she your abilities underestimated greatly. I think she dislikes you so that she fails to respect you, a mistake that my partner and I are paying the price for." Shaking his head, the bedraggled smuggler smiled wryly at his partner. "Sully, I vould say our contract is over, no?"
"Oui, Gilbert. Most assuredly. Mademoiselle Granger, we consider our contract at an end and are at your disposal to answer any questions you might have. However, the question you most wish to ask us, we cannot answer, because we do not know the name of our employer. Anonymity is part of the trade in our business and we did not think it strange when our now former employer hired us to bring the Amen Glass and the Fairy Flag to America and deliver them to the Order of the Hidden Path failed to mention her name."
Scowling, he nodded to the trio of surviving dark wizards off to the side. "The `jeune femme dela nuit' said she was acting as a middle woman for the Order and her own organization. She paid half up front and the remainder was supposed to have been provided by those magique malvais over there."
Smiling, Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "And just what did this `Maiden of the Night' look like?
Smiling broadly, Merveuax answered. "Ach, coldly pretty, the kind of looks that chill rather than varm the heart. Dark of hair and eye, she always dressed..." Shrugging he turned to Cranston. "Vat is the vord I'm looking for Sully?"
"Eh, she was dressed as une salope. But too cold, that one for my tastes."
Laughing, Hermione began to shake her head. "A pretty brunette who dresses like a slut? Except for the fact that she's too petty and childish I'd say it was that cow Parkinson." Turning to Oscar, she grimaced. "An old schoolmate of mine, but the aurors have been watching her for years and while she's petty, spiteful, vindictive and malicious, they're convinced she's not capable of pulling something like this off."
Grinning back, Oscar asked innocently. "What'd she do, try to date Ron in school?"
Her face becoming an expressionless mask, Hermione replied in a voice colder than Oscar had ever heard. "She suggested turning Harry over to Voldemort." Leaving the phrase hanging between them for several long seconds, she continued to stare with a death mask for a face. "The only reason she's still troubling the world with her annoying presence with all of her limbs attached is that Ron and I were in the Chamber of Secrets at that moment." Turning abruptly, she glanced back at the two smugglers. Seeing that they visibly flinched from the look in her eyes, she closed them and took several calming breaths.
"Mon Dieu," whispered Cranston. "For a moment it was as if Jeanne D'Arc had returned. Except you are English, of course." Laughing nervously he looked to his partner for a clue as what to do now.
"My apologies gentlemen." Opening her eyes, Hermione looked at the two and wondered exactly what it was that they had seen when she turned towards them. "Before I discuss options with the Order of the Hidden Path, we have one more thing to settle." Holding out her hand, she asked quietly. "The Amen Glass, gentlemen?"
Looking guilty, Cranston nodded towards the dead dark wizard. "We had turned it over to that one when everything started to go bad."
Still holding her hand out, Hermione continued to stare into the Swiss thief's eyes. Remembering the trick that Maeve had done, she gathered her will and attempted to recreate the effect that the Queen of the Sidhe had employed. Something must have happened because she could see Cranston's eyes go wide and she could hear a sharp intake of breath from both Merveuax and Oscar. The scuffling of bare feet indicated Cooks with Thunder had taken an involuntary step backwards. Pitching her voice low and speaking deliberately she asked again. "The Amen Glass. Not the fake you palmed off on those unsuspecting dolts. The real one. Now."
Mesmerized and unable to break her gaze, Cranston just stood there. Swallowing noisily, Merveaux whispered. "Against the wall, a carry sack. It's wrapped in blue cloth in case we needed it." Nodding towards the fallen pillar they had hidden behind, Hermione followed his gaze and saw that there was, indeed, a dark cloth bag setting in the shadows. Without pulling her wand, she simply stated. "Accio sack" and the bag flew towards her waiting hand. As she had turned her head, Cranston collapsed to the ground, swearing in French as he gathered himself together.
"Oscar, before we start questioning those dark wizards, I think I'm going to check to see if our two `friends' have actually given us what we were looking for, and not a stage prop for some elaborate triple cross that they had concocted. " Opening the bag, a blue glow began to emanate from the cloth wrapped object within. Gingerly removing the cloth wrapped item, even the touch of her hand on the insulating cloth intensified the glow of blue light.
Ignoring the whisperings of the two smugglers, Oscar shook his head. "Hermione, is it supposed to do that? The pictures and description that your Ministry sent didn't mention anything about it glowing like a bluelight special."
Unwrapping the upper edge of the glass, Hermione gazed in fascination at the etched glass artifact. The light emanating from it highlighted the Jacobite anthem etched into the glass.
`God save the King I pray
God bless the King I pray
God save the King
Send Him victorious
Happy and glorious
Soon to reign over us
God save the King'
Intrigued, Hermione ran her finger over the edge of the glass, and a familiar feeling overtook her. That familiar feeling of a hook grabbing her by her navel and pulling her away. `Damn' she thought to herself. `I suppose this isn't what she meant by telling me to think' as she was pulled elsewhere by the Amen Glass portkey.
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A/N * - Alexander III, King of Scots
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