Fate of Awakening Love

Fate of Awakening Love

Chapter Two - Recipero fortitudo

"All right, then, both of you take a Time-Turner and put it around your necks," said Professor Dumbledore. This feels strangely like déja vu, Hermione thought. "And get your goblet. Now, you'll take a drink of your potion and turn the Time-Turner twelve times." They did as instructed, both grimacing at the awful, bile-tasting potion, and turned the tiny hourglasses twelve times. The office spun around them in a whirl of colors and as they slipped further back in time, Hermione was beginning to feel sick. I don't remember this, she thought, but then again I never traveled back one thousand and two hundred years.

"Draco?" she yelld.

"What?" he called over the rush of wind.

"Are you--" she only got that far as they hit the ground, each on their backs on the cool grass of the Hogwarts grounds. Hermione moaned as she tried to sit up on her elbows. Her hair, which had been to the middle of her back, was now as long as her knees she discovered when she stood up, and whereas it had been frizzy and brown and curly, now it was sleek, jet-black and straight. She was wearing a sapphire-blue dress that was extremely low-cut in the front and had sleeves that reached the ground. There were fine traceries of stars up the side of the dress in silver thread. Hermione also wore a golden twisted circlet on top of her head, going across her forehead, a sapphire resting on the middle of her brow. The sky was darkening to an ink-black color and stars were scattered across, while a waning crescent hung high.

"Draco, get up," she said, looking down at him. His eyes were tightly shut, but he opened them and did indeed stand up, groaning in pain as he did so. He now had light brown hair that was tied at the nape of his neck, and wore a green tunic over white breeches and a white shirt, and had on brown boots. He had a leather belt-sort of contraption that buckled in the front and went up across his left shoulder, and held a sword sheath on the back. There was a leather vambrace on both his forearms, each embossed with the Hogwarts motto: Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus.

"Don't think just because I'm not calling you Mudblood anymore doesn't mean you can boss me around." He glared at her with brown eyes that didn't seem to suit him. Maybe it's just because I'm used to his silver eyes... Don't start thinking about his eyes now. She sighed and started heading up to the castle. Draco reluctantly followed her.

"We've got to find out who we are."

"Where do you suppose we'll find that out?"

"A student." She opened the large double doors, and headed into the Great Hall. It was empty.

"It's got to be near midnight," Draco said, "judging by how dark the sky was and how high the moon was."

"And since when did you become an expert on the night sky?"

"Astronomy lessons," he fixed her with a piercing gaze, "aren't you?"

"That's why it shocked me. I didn't think you paid attention during those lessons. You always look like you're half-asleep."

"Whatever, Granger." Hermione didn't complain--she was just glad he wasn't calling her a Mudblood now.

"Come on, let's go to the infirmary."

"Why?"

"Because I feel like there's someone there that can help us find out who we are...call it a sixth sense." Draco rolled his eyes as Hermione grabbed his wrist and pulled him along behind her. When they entered the infirmary, the stench of blood was so overpowering that suddenly everything went black as Hermione fainted, crumpling to her knees, in Draco's arms.

When she came to, she was lying on her back in a large four-poster (much larger than the ones in the girls' dorms, she noted) with blue silk curtains pulled back, six or seven pillows around her, not including the one her head rested on. Her circlet had been taken off and a cool cloth replaced it. She was also just in a bodice and underskirts. Whereas her hair before had been sleek, it was now frizzy and limp around her face, but still black and straight. She looked around the room. It was decorated with the same blue silk curtains covering the windows. Furniture included a bureau, a full-length mirror in a corner of the room, a small table that held jewelry, and the bedside table. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, warming the room. Draco was standing at one of the windows, the sword sheath absent from him, and looked over at Hermione. A female house-elf rushed in with a silver basin that looked way too heavy for that small of a creature to be carrying.

"You're up, Madam Ravenclaw," she said, her large green eyes full of relief.

"Did you say Ravenclaw?"

"Yes, Madam,"

"Then my first name is Rowena?" Draco gave her a look that clearly said, "Shut up, she's going to think you've gone mad," or something quite similar. She just ignored him.

"Yes, Madam," the house-elf repeated and set the basin on the bedside table. She took the cloth from Hermione's forehead and dipped it in the water, then wrung it out and placed it back on Hermione. It was cool and damp now. "Did you need anything else?"

"Tea would be nice."

"Right away." The elf bowed and walked out of the room, leaving Draco and Hermione alone. Alone...that doesn't sound like such a bad idea, Hermione couldn't help thinking.

"Who are you, then?" Hermione took off the cloth and sat up fast. Immediately she felt dizzy. Draco pushed her back down by her shoulder.

"Just rest for a while," he said softly, for once sounding nice. Remember what happened last time, Hermione. "And put this back on your head. Just until the elf comes back." Hermione sighed and did as she was told, as much as she didn't like it."

"Who are you?" she asked again.

"Some person named Farieni." He shrugged. Hermione searched her memory--she'd read something about Farieni once before, and knew he had to do something with Rowena...her brother, or friend, or...

"Husband!"

"Excuse me?"

"Farieni was Rowena's husband! Only she didn't change her name because of the founding of Hogwarts, and..." she trailed off as the reality of their situation sunk in. Draco must've realized it too, because his mouth fell open.

"You mean I have to pretend to be your husband?" he sounded shocked, but not disgusted, as Hermione thought he would've been.

"I guess so." Hermione shrugged. "Rowena and Farieni's children were students, and Rowena became the Transfiguration professor since that was what she was best at."

"Children?" he looked slightly pale. "We have children?"

"Not us. Rowena and Farieni." Just then the elf rushed in with a silver tray of tea and two cups, along with containers of sugar and cream, and set it on the remaining space of the bedside table.

"Anything else?"

"No, thank you." Draco said. The elf bowed once more and left. Hermione took off the cloth and Draco fixed the pillows so she could sit up, back against them. The dizziness after sitting up only lasted a few seconds and she gratefully took the cup of tea Draco gave her.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked after a few minutes' silence, sounding genuinely concerned. Hermione, not used to him being kind, looked at him suspiciously.

"What?" he asked.

"You just...how do I put this? You're being nice for once, is what I'm saying." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Do I really have a choice? I've got to be your husband." He looked away, though, and there was a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. Hermione frowned. That's not the real reason he's being nice, she thought. I wonder if...no, that couldn't be possible...could it? Could he fancy me like...no, I don't fancy him. That's preposterous...he just has nice eyes...and a nice smile...and a very nice body.... Oh, all right, I fancy him. But could it be more than just that?

"Hermione, I'd really appreciate it if you would quit staring," he said coldly--or should Hermione say, normally.

"Sorry," she took a sip of her tea and traced the pattern of the comforter with her eyes. He said my first name...he didn't call me Granger! Her eyes widened as she realized this, but she wouldn't say anything, or even look over at him.

"So...are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Where do you suppose the sword is?"

"Well--"

The door swung open and an older woman walked in, a floating stretcher behind her. On it lay a man who looked asleep but from the way he was breathing abnormally slow, Hermione knew was unconscious.

"Rowena..." the woman Hermione assumed to be the nurse said, "this knight has been fatally wounded. We need for you to strengthen him. He is the greatest archer we have and our enemies are closing in fast on us." Hermione froze. She knew of Recipero fortitudo of course, but didn't know how to do it. She scooted over to the edge of the bed, where the stretcher floated and, if by instinct, put both her hands over the wound in the man's chest, and closed her eyes, concentrating with all her will on the man.

"Recipero fortitudo," she whispered, and felt something pass from her hands to the man, whose breathing sped up to normal rate, heart beating regularly. Hermione opened her eyes. The nurse smiled.

"Thank you, Rowena." She left the room with the stretcher floating after her and Hermione looked at Draco to see his mouth was hanging open.

"How did you--"

"I don't know. I just did it." She looked at the palms of her hands, swallowing hard. "It was like it was second nature to me. And it's not just because I'm Rowena in body either. It's like how I knew the spell in Dumbledore's office."

"Are you saying--"

"I think I'm the reincarnated soul of Rowena Ravenclaw."

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