faderift | You'll fight and you'll make it through

Entry tags:

You'll fight and you'll make it through

WHO: Hermione and OPEN!
WHAT: Catch-all for the month (let me know if you'd like a particular starter)
WHEN: Wintermarch, going into Guardian if need be
WHERE: Throughout Skyhold
NOTES: Feel free to assume prior minor CR between them, especially if your character would have taken/taught any classes involving magic or Thedosian history/culture. I'm willing to handwave more major previous CR if that would make the thread move along more easily, but we can hash out those details either via PM or on plurk (

StarryOblivion).

Archery range

To her credit, Hermione was trying.

Her magic still wasn't coming along as seamlessly as she would hope, and so she'd bitten the bullet and decided that she'd need to learn other ways of defending herself, since she couldn't rightfully stay within the confines of Skyhold forever. Most weapons were too large or heavy for an untrained person of smaller stature, and the ones that weren't would force her to get much closer to an enemy than she would want to, especially if bloodshed was going to be involved. Given all that, archery seemed the best bet. She could stay a safe distance from most of the fighting and also run with her weapon without it tripping her up or throwing off her balance. And besides, she'd used a bow and arrow before.

Once.

For fun.

And she hadn't been very good.

Which explained why she'd raised the bow before the arrow was properly nocked, resulting in the arrow unexpectedly flying loose with an almost comical twang! and a gasp from the startled young witch. She widened her eyes as she instinctively looked around, hoping that no one had seen that, before realizing that she should be more concerned with where the arrow had gone and fervently hoping it hadn't managed to somehow hit someone.

Perhaps she should stay away from weapons for a while?

Training Grounds

She'd made it quite clear to anyone who offered to spar with her that she didn't know the first thing about fighting without any sort of magic, but even so, Hermione wasn't really going to leave anything to chance. She'd been tortured before, and while no physical injury could match what had been done to her, she still wasn't a big fan of pain and was in no hurry to subject herself to any injuries that may require more than a quick visit to the healing tents.

Long hair pulled back into a bun and wearing as much light armor as she could get away with without hindering her movement, Hermione always stood stiffly as she eyed her opponent, looking for weaknesses. She was small and fairly fast, so if she could assess her situation before the match even started, she could try to use that to her advantage and end things as quickly as possible. Still, she was here to learn, and one didn't learn without asking questions, so there was no shortage of those as she awkwardly went through the motions each and every time.

"Is my stance all right? Where should my hands be while I'm defending myself? You're not going to actually hit me hard, are you? I don't fancy a broken nose, and I'm not looking to hurt you. You know I'm only looking to defend myself, don't you? You'll stop if I ask you to, won't you? What should I be doing with my feet?"

On and on it went, and if she couldn't get herself used to any kind of bare-handed combat, Hermione was just going to have to get her hands on her own staff and start practicing a different sort of sparring, assuming that her mage friends wouldn't mind showing her how to use a staff in a less traditional sort of way.

The Baths

While she always did what she could to keep herself clean, Hermione had managed to avoid the baths for an extended period of time. It was easy enough when making water was one of the only spells she could still reliably do, and she'd been forced to get used to limited hygiene during the year she'd spent on the run. But now that she was actually involved in regular physical activity, she couldn't really make do with a quick wash or a mostly-clothed dip in the bath.

Though it always seemed like most of the people she would see down there relished their time in the water, Hermione had never exactly enjoyed communal baths. Still, she did happen to go down there while it was mostly empty, and there was no rule saying she had to be completely nude to get herself clean. She was a grown woman, and if she wanted to sit in a bath with her underwear on, she was surely entitled to it.

Besides, the hot water felt good on her sore muscles (she was getting muscles now; when did that happen?), and so it was easier for her to relax than she might have thought otherwise. So long as no one tried to engage her in conversation while their privates were less-than-private, she could almost enjoy soaking in there for a bit.

Library

The drawback to not having your own small, private, contained bath was that you couldn't read in the tub, and despite her newer hobbies, reading will always be Hermione's first love. While she might not be as much of a fixture in the library as she used to be upon her initial arrival, anyone looking for her could simply hang about the vicinity long enough and she would find her way back there before too long. These days, she mostly read for the various classes she was taking, but she still found the time to read one of the "lighter" books available in Skyhold's library. Sometimes, these books were written with a very marked biased, and whoever might be sitting close enough to the young rifter might be drawn into a heated discussion over said bias. It was all right, though; she usually kept her voice down, given that it was a library.

Wildcard!

Choose your own adventure!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Given that Jamie knows that Hermione has magical abilities and so would have had to have learned them from somewhere, she's not surprised that Jamie isn't entirely caught off-guard by her brief descriptions of traveling through space and time at Hogwarts. She's been at Thedas too long to feel odd telling a Muggle all about her being a witch. The International Statute of Secrecy clearly hadn't been designed to accommodate other worlds, so she doesn't really fret so much about that anymore.

"Yes, like a chimney flue. It can be very dusty, if people don't clean out their fireplaces regularly. I haven't tried Apparating since I've arrived here - there are too many inherent dangers to it even back home, never mind when my magic still isn't all it could be - but if I ever manage it to the point where I can safely do side-along Apparition, I'll see about taking you along with me sometime. It's very handy for getting out of tight spots." Something that she can certainly use here in Thedas, considering how many times she finds herself in the middle of a skirmish.

"Oh, I slept well enough, though not for nearly enough time," she replies, chuckling just a little sheepishly. "It's a very precise instrument, so I'd usually end up reliving an entire day twice; at the end of the second go-around, I just continued where the first me had left off. So while the average person might be awake for sixteen hours a day and get eight hours of sleep, I'd be awake for thirty-two hours, and still get only eight hours of sleep. And that was being generous, given how often I stayed up late to study." Tilting her head curiously at him, she asks, "When you traveled back through centuries, did you just stay there for a few days? If you interacted with locals, didn't they think your clothes or dialect were a bit off?"

That time-turner thingy definitely sounded like it worked a fair bit better than the TARDIS, and he found himself wondering what the Doctor's reaction would be if he ever ran across one. Not that was going to happen here, unless both the Doctor and a time-turner happened to fall through the rift, and he didn't think that was going to happen anytime soon.

It was a fair question on her end, though. Both of them were, although he couldn't quite help the faint grimace that wound up appearing at the second question. It wasn't Hermione's fault by any means, but his bringing up the Glorious Revolution had reminded him of the times where he'd wound up in something other than his kilt - and not in anything he normally cared to wear, for that matter.

"Sometimes it was a few days, sometimes it was a wee bit longer. Depended on what was going on, aye? There were some times I had to change, not that I really wanted to. Especially not with some of the disguises the Doctor came up with. They were...aye, well, embarrassing. I daresay that's not something you'd had to worry about at your school."

All things considered, Hermione is quite glad that time-turners don't exist anymore. Traveling through time had been exhausting, especially when you had to avoid your past selves even while attempting to keep them from doing anything stupid. Harry had very nearly broken that first rule of time traveling, and he'd been with her; she can't imagine what kind of havoc might be caused by someone with less sense or restraint.

That small grimace makes Hermione tense, wondering if she'd touched on something of a sore spot. But then he explains, and she finds herself needing to resist the urge to laugh, even if she wouldn't necessarily be laughing at him.

"Are you saying the thing you hated most about time traveling was having to wear clothes appropriate to the period?" she asks, unable to keep just the slightest chuckle from coloring her voice. "I don't know, I think that might have been part of the fun. It's not as though you can stand out if everyone's dressed in the same style, can you?" She pauses for a moment before bringing up, "Unless the Doctor had no idea what was period-appropriate at the time and would just throw things together from some sort of costume trunk he had in the TARDIS?"

The protest that comes from him isn't because of the chuckle, at least not directly, but it pops up so suddenly that it might as well have been. And if Hermione has ever wondered what Jamie would look like if he were squirming over something, now's her chance - because he as he shifts in place, it's in a decidedly uncomfortable sort of way.

"No, it's not that it was because they were appropriate to the period, it's because...och."

He had to go and open his mouth, didn't he? He should've just kept it shut, but now he's gone and done it. And since she's already asking enough questions that it's likely only a matter of time before she gets it out of him. Maybe it'll just be better to admit it now, while there isn't anyone else around, rather than risk it coming out later. And...well, she is his friend. Hopefully she'll not laugh at him too much for it. After a few moments, he reluctantly leans in towards her, lowering his voice - just in case.

"It's because they weren't always men's clothes, alright?"

Whatever she might have been expecting by way of an answer, it certainly hadn't been that. She blinks a few times, wondering if he's joking but deciding that no, he probably wouldn't be so uncomfortable if he were going to say that sort of thing as a joke.

She does let out a laugh, but a small one, one that sounds more confused than amused or teasing. "Women's fashion had always been a bit more complicated than men's, though," she points out. "Is that all he could scrounge up, or was he trying to make a point?"

Tilting her head and looking at Jamie's face in a discerning sort of way, she hums musingly for a moment before bringing up, "For what it's worth, while you wouldn't be the most unfortunate-looking woman I've ever seen, I think you're generally much better-suited for men's clothes. You're handsome enough for a kilt but a little too handsome for a dress."

Despite his embarrassment over his admission, there's a part of him that can't help but feel the tiniest bit pleased at her compliment - and that's the part that winds up showing for a few moments as he straightens up, shoulders squaring as a flicker of that pleased expression crosses his face.

"You'd likely not look so bad in a kilt yourself," he replies - because he suspects that's true. He's gotten past the part where he'll insist that's for men only, thanks to Victoria, and it's not all that hard to picture Hermione wearing one, if she put her mind to it. "Trust me when I say you look much bonnier than I do in dresses, though."

He considers leaving it there, but she had asked about the Doctor's choice...and as much as he'd like just change the subject, it's probably only fair if he does explain at least some of the reasons behind why that'd happened. With a small sigh, he settles back down into the water.

"I'd not have worn one at all if we'd not had to, erm, go and kidnap the king. The only way we were able to get into his chambers was to pretend to be washerwomen."

Hermione can't help feeling just the slightest bit amused at Jamie's show of pride. Really, it never seems to take much to get men to sit up straighter and puff about for a little bit. While it might ordinarily make her roll her eyes, it's a bit comforting in this particular case.

"I'm fairly certain that wearing a kilt would just make it look as though I was wearing a tartan skirt," Hermione replies with a small shrug of her shoulders. "But if I ever come across a more traditional-looking one in a small enough size, I'll be sure to wear it for your inspection. You do seem to be the resident expert, after all."

Jamie's explanation gives her pause, and she frowns a little as she tries to wrap her mind around what he's said. "Of course," she murmurs thoughtfully. "How else would one go about kidnapping a king?" Inching a little closer to him and trying not to feel a pang of concern, she asks, "May I ask why you were attempting to kidnap a king?"

While he's tempted to point out that it really doesn't need to be smaller if she borrows one from someone who is, say, his size, the reality is that he doesn't have a spare - and right now he's not about to offer his, for obvious reasons. If she does manage to come up with one on her own, though, he'd not mind seeing her in it.

But the thought of that, as pleasant as it is, winds up getting set to the side for a now in favor of a a slightly rueful expression. There's a reason for that, and he hopes it's not one Hermione will judge him for too much.

"Well, you know how they say it's not a good idea to go meddling in your own past? I- aye, well, I might've found that out the hard way. Kidnapping the king was part of fixing it."

If Jamie had so much as tried offering her his kilt right then and there, Hermione may have actually sunk low enough into the water to risk drowning; that seems preferable to going back to the modest awkwardness from before.

His explanation doesn't exactly explain much of anything at all, leaving Hermione to look at him with a puzzled expression as she waits for him to elaborate. "You do know that only raises more questions, don't you?" she asks with a quirk of her eyebrow. "What did the king have to do with your personal past? You didn't neglect to tell me you were a royal all this time, did you?"

There's a flicker of surprise that crosses his face at her question, for it's not the first time someone's asked him something like that. Rapunzel had asked something similar once, and there's something almost strange about hearing that sort of thing again. But Rapunzel's not here, and Hermione is and that brief reaction is followed by a quick shake of his head.

"Och, no, that's not it at all. You remember I told you about that time we wound up in the middle of the Glorious Revolution earlier? I meant we were right in middle of it. The first thing that happened was that we ran into a lass who was trying to escape with her bairn. We helped her, only to find we'd helped the wife of King James get away to safety. It-"

He broke off as a thought occurred to him. She'd mentioned her school, but he didn't know how much they would've been told about English history, and he pursed his lips for a moment before giving her a thoughtful look. Maybe he'd best check on that before going on.

"How familiar are you with what happened back then, anyway?"

Hearing about a king being involved in Jamie's personal past makes the possibility of him being a royal an entirely logical conclusion. But he seems surprised by her question, so she's willing enough to let that go without further commentary. After all, it's hardly as though something like that would change who he was, in her eyes.

She's ready to hear his story until he cuts himself off with a question. Blinking at him in surprise, Hermione needs to think back on the history reading she'd done in her younger years, trying to parse it from the magical history that occasionally overlapped.

"I know enough to get by," she told him, trying not to feel insulted that he questioned her knowledge of basic history, even if - all things considered - he had every reason to. "Do you mean Mary of Modena? Wasn't her son the impetus of Gorious Revolution, because it would mean that King James had a Catholic heir? I thought she and her son did get away to safety; he was James III, wasn't he? So you didn't exactly disrupt history...."

Unless Jamie's history was supposed to have played out much differently than hers had, which would be fascinating, if a little jarring in its implications.

In his opinion, Hermione was clever enough he already thought she might have known - but there was always that chance, however small, that it hadn't been the case. He was glad that that she did know, however. It made explanations a lot easier than they might otherwise have been, and after a moment he wound up nodding fairly rapidly, agreeing with what'd she'd said.

"Aye, that was her. She was quite beautiful, as I remember."

Not that he thought that she would necessarily care about that sort of thing, but it'd been one of the first things he'd thought when they'd first come across her carrying a large basket and trying to desperately make her way to her boat. Of course, any other thought along those lines had quickly vanished when it turned out that that basket had actually held her son - the future king. And what'd he thought didn't really matter all that much, as their meeting was only a tiny part of the story. It'd set things in motion, though, and after a moment, he shrugged and went on.

"But you're right, she did escape, and the wee king with her, too. King James'd not gone with her, though, and that was the problem. Before she left, she gave us her ring and told us that her husband would reward us if we took it back to her, which we did. He granted us an audience, even though his regime had all but collapsed, and according to history he was about to flee. Let William of Orange take over," he added, with a faint twist of his mouth.

He still wasn't entirely happy about that, despite having learned the hard way that trying to fix things hadn't been the answer. Chances were he never would be happy. But chances also were he wasn't going to see Scotland again, and no matter what he thought there wasn't anything he could do, and he'd accepted it...more or less.

"I- aye, well, I couldnae stand by and just let things go on they way they they were. I had the opportunity to write a wrong that'd been done to my people. To Scotland. And once I had the chance, I talked the King into staying and fighting, rather than running away."

For some reason, something uncomfortable arose in Hermione when Jamie declared that Mary of Modena had been beautiful, even if the woman had been a married mother who had now been dead for almost 300 years. It's silly and irrational, and since she can't explain it to herself (or rather, doesn't want to), she doesn't bother thinking about it for too long, forcing the feeling down as Jamie continues to speak.

When Jamie mentions William the Orange and pulls that face, Hermione puts the pieces of the historical significance together and realizes what he'd done before he'd even finished speaking. And while she can understand why he'd tried to do what he'd done, she can't help feeling just a little bit disappointed. It is, after all, common knowledge among anyone who routinely travels through time that one doesn't interfere with the past.

"Oh, Jamie," she murmurs, unable to keep from frowning. She doesn't want him to think she's angry with him - that would be foolish, considering that it has no bearing on their current situation and hadn't, at least, had an impact on her own future - but she's clearly not happy to hear that he'd fallen into one of the most common time traveling traps known to man. "What ended up happening?"

She might not be angry, but it's hard to miss that unhappiness - and that disappointment too, especially given the expression on her face. It's not the first time that he's gotten that reaction, either. Both Zoe and the Doctor had been the same way at the time, only he'd been so fired up he'd more or less ignored both of them. Now? He squirmed a bit under that gaze, feeling vaguely uncomfortable and not entirely sure why her being disappointed with him was making him feel that way.

"At first? Nothing except he locked us up for a wee bit."

Not that that was anything new, and he wound up shrugging in a 'what can you do' sort of way before going on.

"The Doctor was upset with me, and I didn't understand why. We'd always gone about interfering -- well, we didn't always call it that, but it's what we do. Did. This time, though, he was so determined that we stay out of it, only he didn't explain. And I didn't listen. The king decided he wanted to talk to me, and I was determined to help him. So I went, and I gave some ideas that I thought would work, and he decided to use them, and there wasn't any civil war, where thousands of men died to free our country from a King who had no right to the throne. There wasn't a massacre at Glencoe, the battle of Boyne...and there wasn't Culloden, either. I'd done what I'd meant to do. Only I didn't know what it'd wind up doing to me."

Hermione notices that squirming from Jamie, but she says nothing on it. He likely knows just how foolish his move had been, and so she certainly isn't about to rub it in. It wouldn't help anyone, and would only succeed in alienating him.

"I understand why you thought you were doing the right thing, Jamie, but fiddling with one's past can be incredibly dangerous. Fiddling with the past of subsequent millions of people is another thing entirely." Of course, he doesn't need to hear that; it just bears saying. The more important thing, in this case, is in what he said last.

"What did it end up doing to you?"

"I know." The words are quiet, because he's well aware of just how dangerous it is. It still bears saying, though, and he doesn't begrudge her doing so, only gives a very slight nod before going on.

"I already knew I'd made a mistake, just from the way the King had reacted. I'd thought he'd wanted tolerance and understanding, but then he'd started talking about ruling like a true Caesar, converting people to the Church of Rome, and taking care of the ones who didn't fall into line."

There'd been talk of bonfires in every town and burnings, and even though he doesn't go into details, there's the faintest emphasis on the words 'taking care' - enough, maybe, to get across the idea that the things the king had in mind for the people who didn't cooperate weren't pleasant even if he didn't go into details.

"Then I asked about the Doctor and Zoe, and when the King mentioned that the Lord Chancellor might have already dispensed "justice", I felt the strangest feeling. A-A rush of nausea, like if you were looking over the edge of a cliff, and a whooshing in my ears like a great wind had sprung up out of nowhere. I knew had to get to the Doctor and Zoe before it was too late."

As he spoke, he brought his hands out of the water - not to itch at the back of his head or scratch at the side of his neck, but to move along with him as he spoke, using the gestures as a way to help emphasize his words.

"I staggered out of my chair and stumbled out of the room, past the guards and towards the sounds of a crowd that I knew were gathered for their execution. As I ran, I felt like...like I was drowning. As though I'd been caught by a strong tide and been pulled under. I managed to fight the sensation off, and found my way to a balcony. I could see the Doctor and Zoe below, perched on wobbling footstools, waiting for the hangman's noose. I knew I had to act, and fast, so I grabbed a banner and used it to swing myself off the wall and onto the platform where they were, landing on the guard that was there. He dropped like a sack of onions, and I got the Doctor and Zoe free. But as I did so, the nausea returned, and that was when the cries started to come from the crowd."

If nothing else, it's clear that Jamie's learned from his mistake. She can't really fault him too harshly, though; after all, the one time she'd taken Harry back through time, he'd done exactly what she'd told him not to and interfered directly in their own past. That, at least, had ended up being meant to happen, but clearly Jamie's new version of the past isn't something that had been sanctioned by the powers that be (if such things exist).

As he speaks, Hermione frowns a little as she imagines what that might have been like for him. Instinctively leaning in just a little bit closer as he tells his story, she resists the urge to chastise him again for his poor decision, or worse yet, to lie and claim that it hadn't been his fault. He doesn't need to hear either of those things right now. From the sounds of it, he doesn't really need to hear anything so much as finish his story.

"And then?" she asks softly,feeling anxious despite assuming that the story must have something of a happy ending. After all, if it didn't, she doubts very much that Jamie would be sitting with her and retelling it.

"Aye, well, those cries were baffling, at first. Some said there was a ghost, some said a demon spirit. I didn't know what they were talking about, until I tripped, and put out my hand to steady myself...and realized I could see right through it. I was the ghost."

He still remembered seeing the crowd backing away - and who could blame them? Faced with a sight like that, he once might have backed away too. Luckily, he hadn't been alone at the time, or who knows what might have happened. He stretched out a hand in front of his face, turning it to and fro for a moment, as if expecting it to be as transparent as it had been then. His hand remained quite reassuringly solid, however, and after a moment he lowered it again.

"The Doctor grabbed my wrist then, and it seemed to sort of- well, I don't know how to explain it, but I was solid again. He told us to run, and we ran. Even so, things weren't right. The faces of the people were still eerily distorted, and there was a sort of whooshing, drumming, wailing sound. For a moment, all was silent. But then there was the thunder of cannonfire."

His brow furrowed slightly, a faraway look coming into his eyes as he lifted his head, his gaze focusing on a point in the air past Hermione. As he spoke, the more distant-sounding his words became, until they wound up trailing off completely.

"And I...I was back in Culloden, on the rain-soaked battlefield, charging with my clansmen towards the Redcoats as they leveled their muskets towards us. And then I...ah...um..."

Edited 2017-03-31 02:07 (UTC)

Though Hermione knew that Jamie was trying to say that his interference in the past had very nearly compromised his entire future, and while she knew that of course it would have compromised not just his future but the world's future, she'd never heard a story of someone actually going through such a near disaster. One of the very first things she'd been told upon being given a Time-Turner was that she must never, ever, ever let her past self meet her present self; after that, it was not to disturb the past even beyond just meeting her former self.

She wanted to tell him that he didn't have to talk about it, but a part of her wanted to know how the story ended, how everything had righted itself. Because she couldn't help but assume it had righted itself, given that Jamie was sitting right here besides her, solid as anything. As though to prove as much to herself, she reached out for the hand he just lowered, not paying attention to where they were or the state of undress they were in. He was more important than a childish sense of modesty, especially when they weren't so inappropriately unclothed as to be showcasing anything the other hadn't seen before.

She wanted to ask questions - oh how she wanted to ask questions - but she stifled herself, not even asking for him to go on, given how difficult it seemed to be for him to keep telling his story. So instead, she silently gave his hand what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze, letting him decide for himself when and how to continue, or if he should at all.

A part of him wondered why Hermione wasn't saying anything. Surely she'd want to ask something, wouldn't she? But a part of him was glad that she wasn't, at least for the moment, because the strangest thing was happening. It was like- like he was drifting through a dark mist that rippled, like the surface of a lake. As much as he wanted to say something to her, he found that he couldn't. But then he gave his head a small shake, and the mist cleared. Without thinking, he curled his fingers around hers briefly, returning the squeeze before taking a breath and continuing.

"I woke up, in an alleyway, with Doctor hovering over me. He said I was...aye, well, I was feeling the effects of interfering in my own timeline."

In part, anyway. The Doctor'd also said he fainted, but that was ridiculous. Just because his knees had buckled when he'd gotten up didn't mean anything, as far as he (and his pride) were concerned.

"Zoe wondered why it wasn't affecting her, and the Doctor said that it would, just not right away. She was from a later time than I was, you see, so what I did would take a bit to get to her. We had to set things right. I to set things right. Only the king was past the point where he was willing to leave on his own. So we had to take a more...direct approach."

Though neither of them were bound to draw any sort of attention to it, Hermione could tell that Jamie had been heavily impacted by what had happened. There was no way he couldn't have been, and so she respected his ability to continue speaking and telling her the story. Though she didn't believe in coddling, she certainly didn't see anything wrong with being a reassuring presence for him, especially if he was trying to recount a difficult part of his past.

Somehow, she ended up that much closer to him, to the point where they were sitting nearly side-by-side. She didn't particularly notice that, though (or, at least, not in the way she should have, given where they were). She was more concerned with him, and with hearing about how he'd managed to undo the damage he'd unwittingly done when he'd attempted to change the future for what he'd thought would be the better.

"What exactly do you mean by 'direct?'" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow just slightly. "Don't tell me you'd roughed up a member of royalty?"

At least Hermione wasn't alone there...at least when it came to noticing. Oh, he wasn't unaware of the way she'd wound up that much closer to him, but by now he'd gone and gotten caught up in his own story enough that he, too, didn't particularly notice in the way he should have. Or the way he might have, if he hadn't started talking about the King - and what they'd had to do to set time straight, and she wound up getting a brief but very emphatic shake of his head..

"Ah, no, not exactly. Remember when I told you earlier about having to dress up like washerwomen to get into his chambers? That was when that happened, and...aye, well, we did have to knock him out, but it was necessary."

For a couple of reasons, actually, but Jamie shrugged it off as though it was only a small matter. And maybe it was, by now. After all, he was here to tell the story, not swinging from a noose or wherever he would've been if they hadn't fixed the mess he'd caused.

"Once we did that, then it was no problem to wrap him up and bundle him into the basket so we could get him out of there. The guards even helped us when we saw we were having trouble. He was heavier than he looked, you know."

Hermione didn't know whether to be amused or aghast. "You'd knocked out a king?" she asked, both reactions coloring her voice. "Honestly? I'd been sort of half-joking, you know."

Despite her response, she knows that that must not have been easy, if only for the fact that it must have been terrifying, knowing he'd interfered in the past so much that he had to take such drastic measures to rectify it. Not wanting Jamie to think that she meant anything insulting by it, she reached out and gingerly touched his hand, trying to offer him at least half a smile.

"But that did it, then, didn't it? You didn't-... I'm going to assume that he hadn't been hurt anymore than necessary and history eventually took its natural course? I may not be the expert on time travel, but I don't think you'd be able to be here talking to me otherwise."

"Yes, honestly."

It wasn't anything that he'd relished doing - but it had been necessary. If the king had had the time to shout...well, he definitely wouldn't have been here to talk to Hermione, timeline issues or not.

"There's a bit more. We got him to a boat, and eventually things worked their way around so he wound up doing what he was supposed to do in the first place...but aye, you're right. I promise you, we'd not hurt him more than we needed to knock him out. He was still a king, you know. I don't know if I'd still be here talking to you or not, though. Suppose that depends on you think it's the place or the person that determines if you wind up getting pulled here or not."

Hermione was silent for a moment, thinking that over. "I don't believe in fate or destiny," she answered at last. "So there's no guarantee that you would have ended up here one way or the other, no. From what I've been able to make of it, the rifts are a by-product of something else entirely, and by-products usually result in an accidental chain of events. Whether or not the chain would lead to the same end if one of the links had been slightly different is something that can't be proven or disproven."

After all, Voldemort had tried to circumvent his fate of being killed by a Chosen One by killing Harry as a baby, not realizing that he had been the very one to choose him for that task. Harry would never have been nearly as invested in destroying Voldemort if he hadn't lost his parents and his entire childhood because of him.

"For what it's worth, though," she adds, looking up at Jamie, "while I can't say I'm glad you're here, I am glad to have met you. I don't know what I would have done early on without someone around who'd at least heard of the U.K."

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