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Hermione looked around her library in the catacombs beneath Castle Hill, in Budapest, and smiled satisfactorily. Magic was no longer running wild, accidental magic outbursts were down to a minimum, and life was calmer than it had been in years. Here in the catacombs wild magic had been tethered--tamed in a way--to a center of ancient magics.
“Cade, does that lady still want us to ship Daemonium in Umbra?” Hermione continued under her breath, “stupid Muggles, meddling in magic.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cade did not comment on the Muggle bit; being a bit of a grey area himself, he tended to mind his own.
“Let her know, if she insists on reading the book, she’ll have to do it here. I highly doubt she will.” Most of the time Muggles couldn’t find her library; Hermione had been shocked when this one not only found them, but was able to contact them via normal Muggle means.
“Boss...” Cade started. “Nevermind.”
Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, knowing what he wanted to say: she was becoming less and less people friendly, keeping the magic grounded, keeping this archive safe. All of it took more energy than she had most days. She had always liked books more than people. Now her days were all books and Cade. Being away from England had been a refreshing experience. No press, no one who knew who she was by sight, she was finally able to relax.
Ignoring him, Hermione went to the far corner under the sconces, to have a cup of tea and lose herself in a book for a few hours. She knew Cade had a point; she should socialise more, she should owl her friends more, but it’s not like they made the effort to talk to her much either. Half a world away and she felt forgotten. Books never made you feel forgotten, they were always there, ready to help her get lost and forget her woes.
After her last relationship... She sighed. Merlin, did she really want to think of him now? Better to get the thinking out of the way now so she could enjoy her book, because if she didn’t she’d get stuck reading the same page a dozen times.
She had loved him with her whole heart, she fell quick and fast with no logic involved, she never thought it would end, he said he loved her. Hermione should have known better than to trust a Muggle with her heart. He never loved all of her, he never trusted her, he kept things hidden from her and then broke her heart. Leaving--running away, as Cade called it--was her best option; she had needed a change of scenery and getting as far from England as possible? Well, it just kind of all fell into place. She wanted to hate him, she probably never would, but she damn well wasn’t going to trust him again either.
“Uhm, boss, you need to come up to the entryway.” Cade seemed hesitant, which was semi-normal for him, but he seemed even more so right now. Hermione quirked an eye at him in question. “You’re just going to have to come see,” he said.
Hermione set her book on the table next to her tea--thank Merlin for warming charms--and made her way to the front entryway beside Cade. She stopped, baffled at what she saw standing in her entryway; her hidden from Muggles, can’t be found entryway. It was a petite woman, with long, dirty blond hair, wearing a pair of jeans, and a shirt that read “Shorty's”.
The woman raised a gun and aimed it at Cade. “Whoa, buddy, no closer,” Without looking away from Cade or moving the gun, she spoke to Hermione. “What is he?” Her voice was steady, but a bit shrill.
Hermione slowly and discretely palmed her wand. “Merlin’s balls, what are you doing with a gun in my library? For that matter, how the hell did you find us?”
“You told me I couldn’t have Daemonium in Umbra, and I figured you’d never give it up so I came to get it. Now, what the hell is that?” The woman jerked her gun towards Cade again.
Muggles and guns were never a good idea and Hermione was not about to have to explain that Cade was immortal and immune to bullets. Hermione silently summoned the gun from the woman’s hand.
“Whoa! How the hell?” the woman screamed as the gun was ripped from her hand.
Before the woman could lunge for her, Hermione vanished the gun and pocketed her wand. “You have a choice,” she said. “Tell me how you found us and I might let you read the Daemonium in Umbra, or don’t tell me and I do to you what I did to your weapon.”
Fae lights had been shining all around the woman, so Hermione wasn’t about to send her anywhere, but she wasn’t adverse to a bit of interrogation either. It was obvious that the woman was not a Muggle as she’d thought, because a Muggle would not be able to just wander into her library.
“My name is Waverly Earp, and I need that book!”
“Why is the book so important to you, Waverly Earp? Because you sure as hell aren’t a Muggle and I don’t deal well with any person that wants to deal in the dark realms. So you tell me why you need to know about demons.”
Waverly sighed and threw her hands up. “Why the hell am I answering all of your questions and you aren’t answering a single one of mine?”
Cade gave Hermione a sideways glance, the girl obviously had no clue who the hell she was dealing with.
“And for that matter, what in the blue hell did you do with my gun? You damn well better be able to bring it back.”
Hermione had to quickly conceal her shock. Waverly wasn’t a witch, but she wasn’t a Muggle and she wasn’t shocked by magic. Was she possibly a squib? No, fae lights don’t surround a squib, at least none she’d ever seen before. Hermione decided that she’d give the girl the benefit of the doubt for now and give her an answer or two. She pointed to Cade. “This happens to be Cade...”
“Oh,” Waverly interrupted and smiled, “Cade. You’re the one I’ve been emailing with. But what are you?”
“I guess you might as well tell her then, Cade.”
Cade smiled; it was nice to be accepted, and he took her smile as acceptance of him. “I am a guardian of the dead, keeper of the underworld.”
“Well, that explains the grey pallor of your skin. You look like you rolled in ash and your wings are a little ratty. You really should do something about that. Oh,” her eyes went wide, “keeper of the underworld, that would be hell, right?”
Cade laughed. This woman was something else. “Something like that.”
Waverly looked at Hermione. “So, what does that make you, some kind of witch? Cause I come armed with salt!”
Hermione laughed, a deep in her soul, honest laugh. “Salt, what kind of book did you read that in?”
“Hey, don’t laugh! It works! Wynonna and Doc trapped the Stone Witch in the salt fields. Turns out, she was the wife of a demon, named Bulshar, that cursed my family. We have to keep putting down the revenants until all seventy seven are dead to break the curse. That’s why I need the book, I need a weapon against Bulshar!”
“I think you and I have very different versions of witches. Though it wouldn’t surprise me that a few married a demon. Dark witches seek power wherever they can find it, and demons are ripe with power. Cade, grab the book and bring it to my alcove, please. I’ll take Ms. Earp from here.” Hermione reached out her hand to Waverly. “If you’ll come with me please.”
Waverly took Hermione’s hand and jumped when a blue spark arced between them. “What was that? I seem to be asking that a lot today.”
“Fairy lights,” Hermione said, “they surround you, and when touched with other magics create a wave of magic back to you.” Hermione gently took Waverly’s hand again and showed her the blue static they created. Both of them found the play of blue light across their skin fascinating, a tingle chasing through them. Hermione smiled, enjoying the warmth of the fairy light. “You, Waverly, are not a Muggle. You are magic touched or magic yourself.”
“No, I’m not. Wynonna is the heir, she controls Peacemaker. If anyone is magic touched, it’s Wynonna.” The disbelief in Waverly's voice, the thought that she was nothing special was evident to Hermione.
Hermione squeezed Waverly's hand, she understood her point of view. Finding out she was a witch was a shock to her when she was eleven and always feeling like she had to prove herself. Waverly seemed to have had an interesting life, one Hermione wouldn’t mind hearing more about.
“How do you know so much about witches and demons?” Waverly asked. “I mean, they can't be that common.” The woman's smile, coupled with the pleasant sensation from the fairy lights, caused a strange flutter in Waverly's stomach; her face flushed slightly as she glanced away, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Hermione had to stifle a laugh. She didn't want to seem like she was making fun of Waverly. The young woman's enthusiasm was endearing. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Hermione decided the truth was best. “It just so happens that I am a witch.”
Waverly stopped mid stride and pulled her hand from Hermione’s. “Are you serious? How can you be a witch? Witches are evil and…”
“Let me stop you there. Witches and wizards are just like... well, not just like, but close enough, regular people. We're neither inherently good or evil. It's all about the choices we make and how we use our magic. I was tortured by an evil, sadistic witch when I was younger. She was a minion, for lack of better term, for this narcissistic megalomaniac who wanted to take over the world. He could have succeeded too, but we stopped him, and her, as well as so many others. Most witches and wizards use wands to control their magic. Some don't need it. This stone witch you described, I bet she is one that has accumulated power from others and that would also explain how, or rather why, she married a demon.” Hermione motioned to the Chesterfield sofa in her favourite alcove.
Waverly sat next to her, and Hermione saw all the questions racing through her mind. Cade was right, she hated to admit it, even to herself; Hermione needed to speak to other people, not keep herself shut up with him and her books. This woman was interesting, certainly, and she couldn't deny the strange sensation on her skin from the fairy lights surrounding her was pleasant. While she'd seen the lights before she had never experienced them. Magical connections were truly magical. “I'll answer all your questions.”
Waverly sat for a moment completely dumbfounded at the magic bomb dropped on her. She reached for Hermione's hand, the blue light added between them before their skin touched. Waves closed her eyes as the blue raced up her arm, giving her a feeling of contentment and peace. “Okay, tell me everything.”