Disclaimer: I'm neither C.S Lewis nor J.K Rowling.


Title:Fate's Instruments
Author:fourthfireshadow
Language:English
Form:Multi-Chaptered
Genre:Romance/Adventue
Rating:T
Warning:swearing and lemons(later chapters)
Crossover: Harry Potter/ Narnia
Pairing:Hermione Granger/Edmund Pevensie, Harry Potter/Lucy Pevensie
Summary:When Harry and Hermione made an impulsive apparation to save themselves, the last place they expected to end up in was a magical other-wordly land called Narnia. What happens when the Brightest Witch of her Age and the Boy-Who-Lived had a whole other destiny, waiting in the shadows?


Fate's Instruments

By-fourthfireshadow

Chapter i—When Two Worlds Collide


Light always prevails in the end.

Nothing happens the same way twice.


i)Hermione Granger—Hogwarts

I was running. Fast.

For one painstakingly slow second, I thought that was the only thing I could do. It was that awful. There was no time to think; just to feel and react. Because reacting may be the only thing that allows you to survive for one more moment in this bloody war.

Run faster, my mind screamed, and I obeyed.

Because it was instinct to run, and since my logical mind was in a standstill, it was my only option. There was no room for doubt, no room to over-think and over-analyze, not now. Find Harry, find Ron. Where are they? Did something happen? Are they there? Are they alive? Are they…dead?

No, I refuse to believe it. They can't be dead, of course not! But still, why do I get the foreboding sense that the Light side was slowly but surely going to be defeated?

I barely even blink when I see the unblinking eyes of Lavender Brown and barely even hesitate to throw a powerful curse at the leering Greyback crouching over the dead girl. Though I do bite back the cry that was threatening to escape my lips. I cannot show emotion right now, but that thought just disturbs me further. What has this battle turned me into?

Is it the battle that has changed me? Or is it that I've locked up all my emotions for the climax and hopefully they'll all return to me once it's all over? I'm praying for the latter, also knowing the former is likewise a disturbing possibility.

Wars are such ugly affairs.

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.

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So many questions were running through Hermione's mind. But the difference now was that she knew she wouldn't be getting easy answers for them; she'd have to venture out and find them herself. Which was what I was doing, if only I could find them.

Dodging a wayward green flash and weaving between the battles taking place between the light and dark, the brunette searched for her best friends. Nothing. This was the most vilest feeling—this feeling of loneliness, of dread, fear and confusion all wrapped up together.

She could feel the feeling of desperation bubbling up within her and she struggled to press it down. She needed to find Harry; she had a feeling he would do something irrational or reckless because of that damned hero-complex of his. Also, the curse locket in his pocket certainly wouldn't so him any favors.

She cast a silent but powerful reducto at the death eater cornering Ginny and nodded at the grateful look she sent her before she started fighting the other death eaters in the area. She quickly resumed my search, leaving the fight; Ginny could take of herself. That much Hermione knew.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were successful in their search for the Horcruxes, in a way. They did find all the Horcruxes—the cup, the locket, the diadem and the snake—and had already destroyed most of them, except for Salazaar Slytherin's locket. This was because they had no means of destroying it at the time. It may have been the first Horcrux they had acquired, but at the time, they were utterly clueless on how to destroy it.

In the end, the diadem was destroyed by fiendfyre, the cup was destroyed by the basilisk fang when Harry was not present and the snake was killed by Neville with the sword of Gryffindor that was coated with basilisk venom—which, right now was the only way available to destroy it. And if she knew the Boy-who-lived—and she'd like to think she did—she knew he would do something wholly stupid to get hold of the sword, which was currently in the hands of one deranged Bellatrix LeStrange.

Cursing her bad luck, she glared furiously at the obstacle in front of her. Quickly putting up a shield, she sent a powerful petrificus totalus in his way, rendering him completely immobile.

Harry, if I find you doing something reckless instead of following a sane plan, I swear on Merlin, I will annihilate you, Hermione thought to herself furiously.

.

.

.


It was strange; Lucy Pevensie thought absent-mindedly, how well she and her siblings had so easily reverted back to their old roles in Narnia. After all, thirteen hundred years had passed since their last visit, technically. In reality, for them, it was only two years.

She gazed at the scene before her—High King Peter the Magnificent, a man of twenty one, slashed his sword, the Rhindon, down at his opponent King Edmund the Just, a man of eighteen, brutally. It would've been a severing blow if it had connected. But at the last moment, Edmund blocked the forceful blow with his own sword, neither one giving an inch of leeway. This had been going on for the better part of an hour, neither one backing down yet even if they were fully plastered with bruises and cuts. Lucy rolled her eyes at the display of brotherly rivalry in front of her. It was hard to believe these two were the reigning monarchs of Narnia, especially when they always try to one-up the other, even for stupid things such as who eats the most at lunch. Ridiculous, those two were.

Her eyes then fell on the form of her older sister.

Queen Susan the Gentle, a woman of twenty was reading again, under the shade of the huge maple tree in their orchard, her long raven hair shielding her face. King Caspian X had his head upon her lap, gently slumbering, Susan's hand stroking his hair absent-mindedly. This brought a small but amused smile on Lucy's face; they never failed to amuse her. They were always so loving to each other, always in some sort of loving embrace or taking part in a sweet gesture that never failed to bring a grimace to Peter's face, a roll of the eyes and sometimes a look of disgust from Edmund, but always a smile from her.

What could she say? She was a girl, and their love story were what most girls dreamed of. Also, Susan was the most logical of the group and for her to act so vulnerable and open to lovey gestures, it was just too entertaining.

It wasn't any easier for them in any way after coming back to London their first time. To revert back to a child after growing up to her twenties was exceptionally hard. The experiences, the thoughts of her time in Narnia had all retained in her mind, even if she had turned to a twelve year old again.

But then, as time passed by, she soon found out she was starting to forget some things. It would be little things; mundane, inconspicuous things that really held little importance but the alarming fact was that she was starting to forget. Narnia always stayed in the back of her mind—it would never go away—but the details were slowly fading away.

So, she was especially thrilled when they returned back to Narnia for a second time from the London underground station. A lot had happened in their second trip back as well. Meeting Caspian X, fighting in the war waged between the Narnians and the Telmarines—it was just as adventurous as their first time. It was a long and bloody fight, at least for her siblings, as she wasn't allowed to fight for the most of it, but in the end they prevailed, hailing Caspian as the rightful king.

Although delighted with how everything turned out, all the four Pevensie siblings had a little inkling of doubt in the back of their minds that maybe this return wasn't permanent and that maybe they'd have to go back. So, they braced themselves for another goodbye to their real home. Susan was the most upset about this because of her feelings towards the new Telmarine king.

Then surprisingly, Aslan gave them a decision to make—they could either go back to their world and never return back, only returning in Aslan's country in the end, or they could stay in Narnia forever as the Kings and Queens and never go back to their own world.

It was a difficult choice, but in the end, the Pevensies settled themselves in Narnia, their real home. The place they felt they belonged in and they could never once say they regretted the decision.

Two years had passed since then, and peace reigned in Narnia, making the Narnians and the Telmarines believe that a new Golden Age had begun. A small frown marred Lucy's young face.

So then why did she feel as if something ominous was approaching?

.

.

.


The Light side could still win. This, she firmly believed. After all, most of the Horcruxes were destroyed. Now there was only one left and after that there was only Voldemort himself. Most of the wizards and witches from the Light side were fighting valiantly, trying their utmost best and that was all anyone could ask for.

But then Hermione's eyes fell on the corpses all around her. The Hogwarts Grounds had been turned into an impromptu infirmary. But she wouldn't really call it an infirmary. She would rather call it a morgue, because that's what it seemed like. Bodies were littered all around her, some laid on white sheets that were conjured from thin air while others were laid down in haste.

She saw professor Trelawney and Padma Patil crying silently and covering another poor wizard or witch's face with a sheet from the corner of her eyes. She saw the grotesquely mangled body of Dennis Creevey on her side; she had to look away to staunch the flow of tears from her eyes.

The Light side could still win this…but then why was her hope slowly dwindling?

She finally couldn't control her tears as they fell one by one when her eyes rested on the form of one Ron Weasley, who was now crying uncontrollably with the rest of the Weasley clan at the death of Fred Weasley. The tears of her best friend was too much for her to handle, the raw pain etched onto his face…was horrifying for her. She had to turn her head away from the scene.

Quickly wiping her tears with the back of her blood stained hands, her eyes fell on the last member of the Golden Trio. She had finally found Harry in the battlefield, battling an insane Antonin Dolohov. With her helping Harry, they both quickly finished him off and ran in search of Ron. After all three of them had a quick emotional reunion, they both hurried inside Hogwarts for a small reprieve.

Harry was staring at two bodies that were lying on the ground, lifeless. Hermione had to swallow a sob again. It was Remus Lupin and Andromeda Tonks. Their deaths came as a huge blow to the Light side. Two more Order members were gone. They both had died while protecting each other and they were both laid side by side.

While this was a huge blow to Hermione as she knew them both personally and had been close friends with both of them, she could at least take solace in the fact that now Remus could reunite with the other Marauders in the afterlife.

But what really broke her heart was her inability to know even a fraction of the pain the Boy-Who-Lived must be going through. Remus Lupin was the last link he had to his parents. After Sirius's death, he had turned to the werewolf for guidance and support and now he was gone too. The pain and longing was clearly written in his blazing green eyes. That, and determination. Somehow, Hermione knew he was about to do something reckless right now.

Right at that moment, Harry pivoted sharply and started running hastily towards the door.

"Harry, no!" Hermione yelled, but it fell on deaf ears. She spared one frantic look at Ron who paid no mind in his hysteria before she followed the Chosen One, determined to stop him and make him see reason. He couldn't very well go and duel Bellatrix LeStrange in his state of mind. That would be suicide!

"Harry!" Hermione cried out in anxiousness. Her eyes wildly searched around the gory field before she caught a flash of raven hair. Not giving up the flash, she quickly followed, throwing whatever curses she could think of in the moment at the remaining death eaters.

Rapidly catching up to him, she clutched his jacket sleeve aggressively, both not stopping their pace.

"Harry! What d'you think you're doing?!" Hermione asked urgently, struggling to keep up the pace.

"I need to find Bellatrix. I need to get the sword and stop this bloody war once and for all." Harry bit out as he ran as fast he could, panting harshly.

Hermione glared at him, a reprimand at the tip of her tongue. "You're barmy, that's what you are. Do you really think you can get the sword from her at your state? It's suicide!"

don't know what else to do, Hermione!" Harry snapped, "I'm the one that's supposed to stop this bloody war, and instead people are dying around me—for me! So, even if it is suicide, I don't care! I'd rather die right now, anyway."

"Shut up, Harry! Don't talk like that! Like you're losing hope, because if you, the Boy-Who-Lived is losing hope, then what hope do we have?" Hermione shouted bitterly, "Besides, the people who're dying? They're not dying for you! They gave up their lives so we have a chance to survive!"

"…"

Harry stayed silent at her outburst but then looked at her with such desperation, such fear written clearly in his deep green eyes that Hermione found herself going silent, her own honey eyes going wide.

He was scared. Scared of the present, scared of the future, she wasn't sure, all she knew was that he was clearly terrified at the moment. But he was still ready to put his life on the line for the sake of the Wizarding World. He was…selfless. But she had already known that and she had already decided six years ago that she would stand by his side no matter what. She wouldn't stop now.

Taking his hand, she gave him a small reassuring squeeze before letting go and looking forward as she ran even faster. She completely missed the look of pure gratitude and appreciation Harry shot her way.

Finally, they spotted the right hand of Voldemort, Bellatrix LeStrange right as she spotted them as well.

"Oh, Looky here, its ickle Potter with his mudblood. Come out to play?" Bellatrix cooed mockingly, her wand hand poised to attack, her wild hair flying all about as she cackled madly.

Hermione felt her muscles tense up at the monster in front of her and from her peripheral vision; she could see Harry going stiff. Her own eyes darted to the gleaming magical sword attached to her hip.

"Nothing to say? That's a bit disappointing or have I spoken too soon?" she said jeeringly.

"Give me the sword of Gryffindor, Bellatrix." Harry bit out, his hand gripping his wand tightly. Hermione raised her eyebrows. That was a bit foolish, just asking her for the sword. What'd he think she'd do, just hand it over?

"Oooh, so the little hero's come back for his pointy plaything has he? Hah! The sword is the property of the Dark Lord himself, boy. That means you can't touch it!" she laughed sardonically her eyes looking unfocused. Azkaban really did do a number on her.

"That sword will never be tainted by the hands of Voldemort!" Hermione said bravely, fervently hoping this burst of courage wouldn't go away soon.

Bellatrix's eyes grew wide with fury and incredulity, her pupils attaching themselves on the form of Hermione.

"You dare say such things about the Dark Lord?! You, a mere filthy little mudblood?! It seems a mere carving in your flesh won't teach you these lessons." She snarled. Hermione flinched at the reminder of the decretory word carved in her forearm but still glared at the Azkaban escapee.

"No matter, maybe when you're tortured painfully, you'll learn to never utter His name from your filthy little lips ever again." She cackled before raising her wand arm again and shouting, "Sectumsempra!"

"Hermione!" Harry yelled out in worry but was soon intercepted by some death eaters.

She dodged the bright red light and cast a shield around her. She looked around and saw Harry occupied with two other Death eaters. She cried out in surprise and pain when she felt a stinging ache on her shoulder. Red blossomed from the long gash and she looked at the furious Bellatrix.

"Pay attention to your own duel, mudblood!"

Hermione winced in discomfort from her aching shoulder but manage to throw a diffindo at the death eater. Unfortunately, she dodged it quite easily and countered by screaming out "Crucio!"

Hermione dodged the spell and from then on she focused. With another small burst of courage and determination, she threw all the offence spells she knew at the deranged Black, from useless ones such as jelly-legs jinx to more damaging ones such as confringo, and for a moment, it seemed as if Bellatrix was finally being cornered. But then the weariness and the exhaustion started to kick in, and Hermione felt herself lagging. She was panting harshly as she tried to keep up and soon she had to switch from offence to defense, defending herself from Bellatrix's ruthless attacks. With a well-aimed reducto, Hermione was thrown away by the resulting explosion, causing her to be disoriented. Her head was aching, she had at least three long gashes and she felt like she was about to meet her end when she finally looked up to see the menacingly unstable face of her opponent.

"This is the end, mudblood. Say goodbye to your little friends…" she whispered sinisterly, her dark eyes glinting with glee. Hermione closed her eyes, accepting her defeat. She did all she could, there was nothing more to do. She just hoped her death would be quick and painless.

"Hermione! NO!" Harry cried.

"AVADA—"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. This was it, wasn't it? But then she felt a painful grip on her arm pulling her upright in fast jerky motions. Her eyes snapped open and she saw Harry beside her.

"—KEDAVRA!"

The last thing she saw was the frighteningly green light heading towards them in what seemed to her like the speed of light before she felt that familiar uncomfortable tug in her navel before they were no more.

Surprisingly, the last thing she heard before disappearing was the majestic roar of a mighty lion.

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The first thing Hermione saw when she opened her eyes was the sky.

It was a clear blue, no clouds in sight. It was beautiful, truly, which set off the first alarm bell in her mind. Since when was the British sky this clear, this blue? Lately, it was always drab, dull and grey.

The second alarm started ringing in her mind when she realized the sensation she was experiencing.

She was falling.

"Aaaaahh!" She screamed as much as she could before the pressure built up in her throat which forced her to stop. The air whipping around felt like stings as she covered her face with her hands. The feeling of having no ground to place your feet on was a horrible, horrible feeling. She had thought the same thing when she jumped off the dragon when she escaped from Gringotts but this was even worse! She was falling from a greater height than before. At least then she had known before-hand she was going to fall. She had time to prepare, even if it was just mere moments.

She couldn't maneuver herself properly; her feet were upright while she could feel the blood rushing to her head. It may have only been a few seconds but to her it felt like agonizing hours. It was only when she moved her arms to spread them out like a bird's to try to regain some form of balance, did she see into what she was inevitably falling to.

The sea. Again.

Another short high pitched shriek tore out of her dry lips as tears formed in the corner of her eyes due to the harsh force of the wind. That, or her fear. Her eyes widened for a split second before she clenched them shut and took in a deep breath of air as the crystalline deep blue of the sea appeared closer and closer.

A moment later, she was plunged into the vast sea. It was like a thousand cold knives were piercing her at the same time. The coldness was too much. She could feel a huge weight pressing down on her, something making it seem as if it was crushing her chest. She only opened her eyes for a split second to see it was fully dark.

I can't…die like this…!, Hermione thought to herself furiously before kicking her legs and moving her arms sluggishly in a desperate attempt to push herself up, but it was useless. She needed air! She was running out—she…

When she felt the tell-tale signs of her consciousness slipping away from her, she felt a familiar grip on her hand. Very familiar.

Harry.

He was here! He was—

She had no idea if she was just imagining his grip or if he was actually there, but she painfully gathered up all her remaining strength, whatever was remaining and started kicking her legs faster and harder in the water, hoping against all odds that she could rise.

The hand in hers squeezed harder as Harry pulled her hand, helping her float higher and higher. As she squinted, she could see the rays of light from the surface of the sea. Harry swam up, pulling her along with him to the light. Just a second more—

"Aah…!" Hermione gasped as she broke the surface, coughing harshly and gulping the air greedily. Her grip unknowingly fell away from Harry's as she blinked her eyes again and again to get the water out of it and to adjust to the unflinching rays of the sun. She tried to float but she found it quite difficult with her diminishing strength. Hastily, she wiped the clinging hair on her face away, searching frantically for her friend, her teeth chattering all the while.

"H-Harry?!" she called out weakly.

"Over here!" Harry called, a few feet away, "follow m-me! The shore's over there!"

Nodding, even though knowing he wouldn't be able to see it as half her face was obscured by the water. She swam, albeit a bit slowly, towards the shore line and at last, reached the sandy shore. She dragged herself to where Harry was lying, panting severely. She lay down in a heap, utterly exhausted, not caring if the sand got inn her hair or her clothes.

The two best friends laid there in the sand, panting and breathing deeply. The sun's rays helped to warm herself significantly. Hermione squinted at the bright sun and sighed deeply, all her fear floating away with it.

"…Harry?"

"…Yes, 'Mione?"

"Where are we?"

"…I have no clue."

"Brilliant."

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"The time is fast approaching, dear one…

A New power unites with the Old, Fire against Ice, Light against Darkness…

When a Daughter of Eve and a Son of Adam of Charmed arrives;

Marks the fate of sin brought and sin overcome…

Beware of this imminent change, Daughter of Eve…

Lucy woke up with a strangled gasp, her blue eyes wide and filled with shock. She placed a dainty hand on her chest, feeling the soft but rapid thuds of her heart. Taking in gulps of air, her eyes roamed around the crevices of her massive bedchambers. She was still in her bedroom, still in Cair Paravel. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, hastily pushing away the sweat soaked auburn hair clinging to her face.

But she recognized the voice she heard in her dream with startlingly crisp clarity;

Aslan.

She was sure of it. She would never mistake his deep royal voice for any another. This felt just like the dream she had of Him during the war between the old Narnians and the Telamarines. Except, this was the first time something like this had happened since then.

She couldn't deny the utter happiness she felt when she first heard His voice in her slumber. It had been so long, too long in fact. But then, he said those words…

What did this mean? She could remember each and every word spoken in her mind with absolute precision; it felt like the words were still ringing in her head. He had spoken about a new threat fast approaching, almost like…a prophecy or a foreshadow. Also, another Son of Adam and a Daughter of Eve? Did He mean one of themselves or someone entirely new who would enter Narnia?

Also, why did Aslan speak of the prophecy to her? Did he appear to her only or did He say the same words to her other siblings as well? If not, why her?

Was the peace about to end? Was Narnia in danger?

Lucy sighed tiredly, so many questions…

Now for the next question, Lucy thought wryly as she calmed her heart and wiped the sweat collected on her forehead; who would believe her first? Sighing, she got up from her massive bed and smoothed down her vermillion dress and her long auburn hair until she deemed herself somewhat presentable. With that, she exited her room to the Throne room in search of her siblings. They had a right to know, and she knew it'd be her job to make them believe.

Lucy rolled her eyes at the impending headache.

Finally reaching the enormous ivory doors, the two Telmarines standing guard bowed low before opening the door. Nodding at the guards and sending them a smile, she entered to see her brothers sitting on their respective thrones and her sister talking in hushed tones to Caspian.

"Good, everyone's already here." Lucy said to the occupants of the room, effectively turning their attention towards her.

Edmund Pevensie looked up from the book he was reading—The Traditional Strategies of Victory—to look at his younger sister in curiosity. She looked serious, which was a drastic change from her usual behavior, and nervous. Keeping the book down for now and interlocking his fingers, placing his elbows on his thighs, his eyes connected with hers and he gave a small smile, prompting her to speak.

"Ahem. Right. I just wanted all of you to know that…that Aslan appeared to me today. In my dream." Lucy began, a little nervous.

Edmund's dark eyebrow rose as Susan and Caspian looked on in shock, though Susan's quickly turned into an expression of doubt. High King Peter stood up from his throne to stare at his little sister.

"What do you mean? We haven't seen Aslan since the war!" he exclaimed.

"I know that!" she glared at the High King for his interruption, "But Aslan appeared to me in my dream to…warn us. About an imminent threat." She said, looking her siblings in the eye. "He said 'The time is fast approaching, A New power unites with the Old, Fire against Ice, Light against Darkness. When a Daughter of Eve and a Son of Adam of Charmed arrives; Marks the fate of sin brought and sin overcome'" she took in a deep breath. "Those were the exact words, I can remember them clearly."

Then there was silence.

"It sounds…like a prophecy, Lucy." Caspian spoke after a few seconds of shocked silence.

"It does, doesn't it?" Lucy said, biting her lip in worry, "I thought so too."

"Yes, but, how do we know if it's true? I mean—"

Peter was interrupted when Lucy glared at her older brother, venom apparent in her eyes, "are you implying something, brother? I am sixteen years old! I am no longer a child whose words you should just cast aside! And even then it was because of that, that we did not have help sooner!" her voice grew louder and louder towards the end.

Edmund exchanged a glance with Susan before he spoke, a smirk playing on his lips, "Peter, she does have a point. And I don't think we should doubt it if she saw Aslan. Remember what happened last time?" he chided, throwing an inconspicuous smile at Lucy.

Lucy smiled in relief and gratefulness at her older brother. She could count on him to support her. She needed everyone to believe her.

Peter looked at Edmund in annoyance. He always did hate it when one of his younger siblings chided him. He wasn't intentionally treating her like a child and he did remember what happened last time. But this…prophecy just sounded too…

"I believe Lucy, Peter." Susan said at last causing Peter to look at her with raised eyebrows, "and I believe Aslan appeared only to her because she believes the most out of all of us. He appeared to her first during the war too, as I'm sure you remember." She sent a soft smile at Lucy which the younger girl immediately returned ten-fold.

Edmund nodded silently at Susan's explanation. He then rolled his eyes to the High King, awaiting his verdict. He was the only one left to believe Aslan appeared to Lucy.

"Fine." Peter sighed wearily. "Fine. We'll take this as a warning for something that's going to happen soon. If this is a prophecy, then it's not so far-fetched to believe we're in peril until the chosen Daughter of Eve and Son of Adam appear. So that means until then, Narnia may be in danger…"

His grave words finally made the seriousness and worry settle in everyone's minds. The prophecy spoke of another war. Edmund furrowed his eyebrows. Fire against Ice, Light against Darkness…Fire against Ice?

"But, Peter, Don't you realize?" Edmund slowly started, looking straight into his older brother's clear eyes, "Aslan said…Fire against Ice…"

Peter's eyes hardened as Edmund breathed his realization.

"Jadis."

.

.

.


"I think we should find out where we are." Hermione spoke at last, breaking the contemplative silence. "Where did you picture when you apparated us?"

"Er, well, I didn't really think of a place…exactly." Harry uttered sheepishly and struggled to defend himself as Hermione raised her soaked head to stare at him incredulously. "I was panicking and just thinking of saving you! I just wanted to get out of there. So…I just apparated without thinking of a place properly."

Hermione continued to stare at him for a few more moments before scoffing in disbelief and plopping down again. "It's a wonder we didn't get splinched." She muttered half-heartedly before realizing the truth in her statement, making her bolt upwards.

"It is a wonder… a miracle, actually. We…shouldn't really even be alive right now, do you realize?" Hermione said, turning to face Harry, a question on her face.

Harry groaned. "What?"

"Harry, don't you remember? Our Apparation lessons? Remember what Wilkie Twycross had said in our first lesson? One must be completely determined to reach one's destination, and move without haste, but with deliberation. Otherwise, it would result in splinching, or in the worst case when a witch or wizard apparates without deciding on a destination, may result in death." Hermione recited, looking at Harry with undisguised disbelief and uncertainty on her face.

"Yes, I remember, I think. But what does—?"

"Don't you get it? You had not made up your mind, you were hesitant and you had no destination in mind, yet we survived. How? It shouldn't be possible. And we're not even splinched!" she cried out in confusion.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, comprehension and worry becoming clearer and clearer, "So you're saying…that we shouldn't really be alive right now and that probably something or someone brought us here…safely?"

"Yes. That's the only explanation I can think of."

"But, can't it be that we're just extremely lucky?" Harry asked feebly, fingering his wand in his pocket.

"Yeah, there's that but…do you feel it? The magic in the air?" Hermione asked softly, pushing her tangled hair back and looking at her friend with intense eyes.

Harry nodded back, his face serious. "I felt it the moment we came on the shore. It's really…potent, the magic."

"I agree," Hermione said, before looking back at him a bit uncertainly, "…I don't know if you heard it too, but, right before we apparated, did you happen to hear—"

"—a lion's roar? So you heard it too then?!" Harry exclaimed, "What do you think that means?"

Hermione smile softly in doubt, "No idea." She blew her breath out in frustration. "You know, I really don't like not having all the answers."

Harry chuckled, finally feeling the mood lifting.

"Yeah. Me neither."

Hermione shot him a small smile, eternally glad he was there with her. She didn't know if she could go through this alone. "Alright, first thing's first. We've got to mend our wounds before traveling anywhere. Got your wand?"

"Yeah, and I think we should check your wounds first. Also your…scar." Harry said, hesitating when reminding her about the horrendous carving. He couldn't ever explain to her how sorry he was. She was tortured, carved on; all because of him, and the guilt he felt was enormous. He didn't even know how to say how terribly sorry he was and before, he could at least try to focus all his anger and guilt and sadness into stopping the war, but now, the feeling were coming back full-force.

A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts as he stared at his best friends face. Her warm honey eyes did not look at him in contempt, not anger, not sadness. Just simple forgiveness.

No words needed to be spoken. It was over.

Harry nodded back before smiling a tentative smile. Hermione sighed in relief before picking up her vine wood wand and pointing it at the long, thin gash on her thigh.

"Vulnera Sanentur."

Nothing.

Confused, she tried again, saying the incantation more slowly and carefully but the result was still the same thing. Again, and still it bore no results. She looked at Harry in desperation with her lips pursed but he looked just as confounded as she did.

"Let me try."

But it was still the same, nothing happened. Finally Hermione had enough of this.

"C'mon, work you useless piece of wood, Vulnera Sanentur!"

And then, miraculously, the wand emitted sparks, then glowed a blinding green light, and Harry and Hermione watched on as the flesh mended itself on not just that one wound, but all her scabbed over injuries, skin stitching back together and blood flowing back and soon the wounds were no more.

"What the bloody hell."

Surprisingly, Harry let out a short laugh at that, his eyebrow raised at her choice of words, "Never thought you'd use those words, 'Mione. Looks like Ron's influenced you."

But Hermione paid him no mind; she was too busy thinking of this new interesting development. At first, it was as if something was stifling her magic, as if the wand was rebelling and not responding properly, but once she used it forcefully, her magic not only healed one, but all three of the cuts Bellatrix had given her.

Hermione slowly looked at her friend. "We really need to find out where we are. I have a feeling we're somewhere different than usual. And it's affecting our magic."

Harry looked at her for a moment, before finally nodding in assent. Slowly standing up from his kneeling position, he ran his hands through his hair, shaking out the sand stuck and fixed his glasses, sighing in relief when noticing it wasn't broken. Remembering something, he took hold of his shirt under his jacket and quickly tore out a strip of the cloth. It was wet, but it would have to do.

"Hermione, Wait!" he called out.

"Wha—?"

He took hold of her hand lifted the sleeve of her jacket up to her forearms, not even wincing as he saw the multiple lacerations forming the letters carved into her pale skin that spelled out the despicable word and wrapped the white strip of cloth around it, effectively covering it and acting as a bandage.

"There. That should work both ways. Keep it from prying eyes and from yours." He said, nodding at his work before walking forward. Hermione just stared at him in surprise and amazement at his action before allowing a smile to grace her lips.

Shaking her head at the thoughtfulness of the Boy-Who-Lived, she followed, her exhaustion soon forgotten at the prospect of another adventure.

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First of all, total inspiration for this out-there pairing fully goes to WickedlyAwesomeMe. Her story When Two Worlds Collide was just so awesome that I had to write an Edmione story. I think a lot of the edmione stories were inspired by that story and to be honest, I had never even imagined such a pairing in my life.

But…I read it, and the rest was history. This plot bunny just wouldn't go away. Some readers may find certain similarities between this story and When Two Worlds Collide; namely the prophecy bit. I do agree that I kinda took that idea to form a base for the story.

Hope everyone likes it. Please read and review. And favorite. And follow.