Chapter Text
Don't go into the woods. It was a warning hammered into the minds of the village children since they were old enough to know . Earlier than that even. A warning as old as time.
Don’t go into the woods. Ever . A warning so obeyed that even the most unruly of teenagers would never consider daring to disobey. The entire village knew not to even go near the dark ominous trees, with their dark curling branches and sounds like whispers floating across the vast expanse between the forest and the village. Sounds both enticing the listener into its depths and frightening them far far away.
Sounds Hermione could hear and desperately wished to decipher as she crept closer and closer to the forbidden place. Drawn like a moth to a flame to the forbidden place, an insistent pull took her farther away from her home and closer to the danger of the unknown.
The dark of the night spread overhead and hid her from any of the village’s wary eyes as she moved ever closer to the endless expanse of the dark forest. The trees stretched far far overhead grasping at the stars blanketing the sky. The closer she got to the treeline the more her bravado began to fail her. The trees looked more and more like the frightening maw of a dangerous beast just waiting to swallow her whole.
“Please forgive me.” she whispered, thinking of her grandmother, before she stepped into the darkness.
When she was a young child, she begged her grandmother to let her play in the woods. The ancient warning apparently never making it to her ears. Her grandmother had told her very sternly that she was to never go into the woods, for it was far too dangerous for anyone to venture into.
“Is that where my mother and father went?” the question she had been afraid to ask for her entire life, slipping from her lips unbidden.
If her grandmother was surprised by the question she didn’t let it show. Only studying her briefly before giving a stern, “Yes.” the answer didn’t surprise young Hermione, something had told her long ago where they went. Something like a whisper as she dreamt of kind eyes and outstretched hands. “Promise me you will never join them.” the wording hadn’t felt strange to her at the time. At the time.
“I promise, grandmother.”
“Good, now be a good girl and help me pick some berries for my pie.”
She had happily skipped off to the garden, the woods looming in the distance, forgotten for now. For now.
When she was 10, she had been made fun of for not wanting to kiss one of the village boys. Her fellow children had pushed her towards him and she had dug her heels in, resolutely shaking her head no . They had laughed and called her a baby and she had run away from their taunts with tears in her eyes. Run away, towards the woods.
Her grandmother caught her as she ran and punished her for breaking her promise. Or so she believed at the time. Hermione was never to go near the woods, or talk to boys like Ronald Weasley again. Not that she wanted to, thank you very much. He smelled like paste and old socks.
At 17 she was caught with Seamus Finnegan in her bed. A half empty whisky bottle on the floor beside scattered clothing. With lips swollen and red, chemise and hair mussed, and him no better. She swore nothing happened, that he had gotten hurt and she was trying to nurse him back to health, but her grandmother knew better.
Only this time her punishment wasn’t to stay away.
Their engagement was announced the next day, during morning service, and the wedding planned for two weeks following.
Seamus now spent every waking minute with her which was fun that one night with a belly full of whisky, but now seemed more like a prison sentence.
She liked him enough; he was kind and funny, and handsome as her grandmother liked to gush to her friends during her knitting circle every saturday morning. But she was only seventeen , she didn’t want to be tied down. To the same boy, the same place, the same life .
As Hermione sat and stared out of the window at the muted light of dawn, she felt the pull stronger than ever before. The mist creeping over the landscape seemed to beckon her towards it. She squeezed her eyes shut so hard to fight it off that she gave herself a headache. But the pull was still there.
The more she sat and stewed in the feeling the more awareness she gained. Awareness of the fact that this was not the life she wanted for herself, awareness of her desire - her need to explore the world outside of the village, awareness that she now had a tiny window to slip away from the house undetected.
Her grandmother would be asleep for another hour and Seamus would be coming around that same time to try to steal kisses and pester her about the wedding night, and whatever other things he talked about throughout the day. Things that she tuned out.
She didn’t even realize that she had made up her mind until she was packing a small sack full of cheeses, breads, and various vegetables from the garden. A bag already slung over her shoulders stuffed with a blanket and other things that she thought she might need on her journey. Her own body covered in extra layers and an old pair of her father’s trousers with his old thick boots to ward off the early morning chill.
She moved quick and quiet as a mouse, unwilling to get caught and give up her one chance for freedom. Before she knew it she was hurrying down the cobblestone road, a wild laugh bubbling out from between her lips.
I’m free!
She didn’t know exactly how to describe the pull she felt. Somehow physical somehow not, she couldn’t tell if it was the draw of the unknown and the urge to solve a mystery or if it was something else - something much more ancient and mysterious.
As she walked further and further into the dark, she shook off the feeling of eyes following her every move. There was a tension in the air she could almost taste. Like something big was going to happen. Like the woods themselves were alive.
Adrenaline overshadowed any fear she might’ve felt, an electric buzz working its way through her veins making her feel more alive than she ever had before. The farther she walked into the woods, the more the buzz grew. She was beginning to think that it might be something other than adrenaline coursing through her veins. But what, she had no idea.
Time seemed to have no meaning here, as there seemed to be no light coming from anywhere but within the forest itself. “Curious.” her whisper, quiet as it was, echoed around her in the still forest air. There was no movement, no change in light, nothing to indicate a passage of time. No sound other than the whispers - which grew in intensity the longer she spent in the woods.
She didn’t know how far she walked when the pull led her to a rushing river.
Stretching far across the forest; the river sent water pounding against rocks and errant logs, mist flying into the air. The spray caressed her cheeks, the chill of the water causing her to shiver. With the cold or anticipation, it wasn’t clear. But something inside told her it was much more than just a river.
The thought made her pause, what else could it be? What had she gotten herself into?
Nerves erupted, pushing aside the confidence and adrenaline. There was no indication of how deep the water could be and she was suddenly realizing that grandmother never taught her how to swim…
The pull grew more insistent, quieting her thoughts, and Hermione swallowed her nerves. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and stepped into the river.