Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Wishing Well

The Wishing Well

by andafaith 0 reviews

Deathly Hallows AU. Even with her extensive research, Hermione still cannot figure out how to destroy horcruxes. Maybe a certain wishing well will help her...

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: R - Genres: Drama,Fantasy,Humor - Characters: Hermione,Tom Riddle - Warnings: [!!!] [V] [?] - Published: 2014-07-01 - 2870 words

Author’s Note: This fic came to me out of nowhere from a prompt off of the Tomione forums (the prompt was ‘Well’). It originally was planned to be a one-shot, but then the bunnies hit and I just had to continue it. This fic is set during Deathly Hallows and is basically in an Alternate Universe, so some things that may be true or happen in cannon may not be true or happen here. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including – but not limited to – Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The wishing well in this fic is a real place in the UK, but I don’t own that either. Also, the character Divitiacus is a real ancient Druid who existed during the time of Julius Caesar.

The Wishing Well
How Not To Destroy A Horcrux


Hermione stepped away from her newly constructed wards around the tent that she no longer could see. To be safe, she doubled checked to make sure the wards would hold. Harry and Ron would be safe for now; she had left her beaded bag and a note just in case one of them needed something or woke up and noticed she wasn't there. She wouldn't take too long, she hoped. Turning toward a nearby tree, she marked it with a slash of her wand, warding the mark so only she could see it. The Snatchers had been sniffing alarmingly close to them lately.

Her destination in mind, Hermione took a deep breath and disapparated. With a soft 'pop', she appeared in the goat pen just outside the Hog's Head and quickly tackled the nearest goat to the ground, hurriedly disapparating again before anyone spotted her. After a quick series of apparation to make sure no one had followed her, she landed hard on a pile of boulders overlooking a small valley that was bathed in the light of the full moon. Her arms tightened around the goat, keeping it pressed against her chest as it writhed and bayed.

"Shh," she hushed softly. Patting the goat's head, she already started to feel guilt tugging at her chest over what she had to do. She wished she had brought a calming potion for it, but she settled for a cheering charm, which seemed to work somewhat. It still wasn't a very happy goat, but at least it had stopped struggling.

Maneuvering herself down the rocky slope, Hermione surveyed the land in front of her. Between two large towering boulders, surrounded by holly trees, was an oval-shaped formation of rocks that was constructed around a small spring. This was one of the few legitimately magical places that she had heard about before she went to Hogwarts. Muggles called it the Druid's Alter, but magical folk commonly knew it as the forbidden wishing well. The druids had constructed it hundreds of years ago, burying the bones of their ancestors in a special chamber below the well. As a way of paying homage to them, many druids would offer up gifts of gold, food, and wine to the well for luck and prosperity. However, others, with more selfish motives, had found that certain offerings allowed them to be accepted into well to ask their ancestors for anything their heart desired.

Hermione paused at the opening of the well and set the goat down, petrifying it with a wave of her wand. Glancing into the well's depths, she removed the sharp dagger from the sheath in her pocket and hesitated ever so slightly. There was a reason why the well was forbidden – she could be arrested if someone merely spotted her near the well. This, though – she held the knife over the goat – this would get her a lengthy sentence in Azkaban. Plunging the knife into the goat's throat, she held its neck over the side of the well, letting the blood drain into the water. It pooled in the center, an ink blot on the glassy surface, before it sunk into the depths.

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes but she quickly willed them away, breathing deeply. I don't have enough time to break down over a goat, she told herself stubbornly. With a determined expression, she cut into the goat's chest, removing its still beating heart. Blood dripped down her wrists, collecting in the lines in her skin and soaking her sleeves. She threw the heart into the well, watching with baited breath as the water swirled and bubbled to life.

As though in a trance, she felt herself moving forward, stepping off the ledge into the vortex and falling with no resistance. The well accepted her, sucking her deep into the water until her lungs started to protest from lack of air. She struggled, trying to fight against the current that was pulling her down, and just as her vision started to go dark around the edges, she was spat out into the shadowy chamber, gasping for air. Right above her head was the invisible barrier, holding up the swirling vortex of water from where she had come.

"Welcome, Hermione Granger," a raspy disembodied voice greeted her.

Hermione's spine tingled as she realized that the source of the voice was in her mind. Catching her breath, she got to her feet, picking up her wand that had flown from her grip. Since the voice was in her mind, she had no question as to how it knew her name. It probably even knew what she wanted already.

"Hello," she said to the voice, squaring her shoulders. "Would it be rude of me to ask for your name?"

"I am Divitiacus of the Aedui," the voice replied, "though I am certain that is not what you have come here to ask for."

"No, it isn't," Hermione said, figuring that she'd get straight to the point. "As you may already know, the wizarding world is in the midst of a terrible war. Vol- the Dark Lord," she corrected herself, "is currently in power and he can only be stopped if we destroy his seven horcruxes. None of the books on the subject have been very helpful. So, from you, I need to know how I can destroy his horcruxes."

"Horcruxes?" Divitiacus repeated. "How interesting. Yes, I believe I may be able to help you with that."

Hermione smiled, feeling an enormous weight start to seep from her chest. "What do I have to do?"

"Hold still for a moment," Divitiacus answered. Hermione's brows furrowed, wondering why he would want her to hold still.

Obviously reading her mind, Divitiacus elaborated, "You have to hold still for me to help you. I have to perform a spell."

Swallowing thickly and staring suspiciously at the dark walls of the chamber, Hermione relented cautiously, holding as still as possible. "Alright," she said uncertainly.

Barely a second later, a bright light and a cold rushing wind flooded the chamber, whipping her hair around her face and nearly knocking her over. She gritted her teeth, fighting to stay still and keep her footing on the rocky floor of the chamber. Ruthlessly, the light kept pouring in, momentarily blinding her and forcing her eyes shut until there was only darkness. Then it all came to a sudden halt.

Hermione opened her eyes, the centre of her forehead creasing as she gauged her surroundings. She didn't know what to expect from Divitiacus, but this was the last thing she would have guessed. He seemed to have transported her into the foyer of – what seemed like – a manor. The massive double doors behind her were open, letting in the cool rainy breeze from the outside, and a modest chandelier hung over her head.

Why would he send her here? Was this where she was supposed to find the answer? Why couldn't he just tell her?

Looking around the foyer for clues, she shrugged to herself. Maybe the manor had a library around somewhere that contained a book she needed. But just as she was about to set off to find a library, there was a commotion coming from the corridor ahead of her. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the hall, followed by a barrage of screaming and yelling – she couldn't make out the words.

Hermione tightened the grip on her wand and briskly moved forward, following the noise. Was this what Divitiacus sent her here for? She noiselessly skidded to a stop in the doorway of one of the rooms as an unmistakable green flash of light emanated from it, freezing her in her tracks.

The person, standing over the body of a man whose eyes were glassed over with death, was someone that Hermione had only seen in pictures of on the shelf in Slughorn's office. Hermione's brows rose in shock as her eyes roved over the three dead bodies surrounding him. It just wasn't possible – it couldn't have been him. Divitiacus would've had to send her decades back in time!

It was when he pulled the ring – the destroyed horcrux in her time – out of his pocket that it really hit. Hermione pinched herself to make sure this was real, that Tom Riddle was really making a horcrux just before her eyes and she wasn't going insane. Divitiacus actually sent her back to this moment, but why exactly? This definitely didn't show her how to destroy horcruxes!

Hermione's lips parted as a tiny wisp of white light slipped from Riddles mouth, his eyes following it as he started chanting. She knew the enchantment by heart from reading that section of Magick Moste Evile repeatedly until it was positively burned into her brain. What did Divitiacus want her to do with this?

Maybe she had to learn how to create a horcrux in order to destroy it? No, that didn't make sense… She already knew how to create a horcrux. She didn't need to see it in person to know how to create it.

Just as Riddle was getting to the part where he was supposed to trap the soul into the ring, he paused mid-chant, spotting her with his dark eyes. Hermione's heart momentarily stopped and her veins flooded with panic as she raised her wand. She fired off the first thing she could think of, which was thankfully a shielding spell.

There goes the hope that I was invisible.

The wisp of white light that was a piece of Riddle's soul dissipated just as a vicious blue-coloured spell pelted her shield, shattering it and burning the edges of her coat. Quickly shielding herself again, she backed out of the doorway, ready to run for it toward the open doors down the corridor. But a loud 'crack' sounded through the room and Riddle appeared in front of her, breaking through her shield with a powerful wave of magic.

Before she could get another spell out, he wordlessly disarmed her and had her body immobilized in one brisk twirl of his wand.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Riddle demanded, his voice low and menacing. He towered over her, drawing her damp messy hair away from her face with the tip of his wand.

"I'm - I don't know," Hermione blurted out, swallowing thickly and trying to focus on breaking through the immobilizing spell. It was technically possible to break without a wand, but her only knowledge of that was theoretical. It also would have helped if her heart wasn't trying to beat out of her chest.

Riddle's eyes narrowed and he regarded her in a very uncomfortable measuring way. It made every inch of her skin crawl and the hair on her arms stand on end. Just as she thought she couldn't feel any more exposed under his gaze, a smirk pulled at his lips and he asked, "Does anyone know that you're here?"

Hermione glared at him. "Yes," she replied forcefully, making sure his attention was directed away from the tips of her fingers. She had just barely gotten them to move. "My mother is expecting me for dinner."

"Liar," he said softly, his eyes sharply gazing at her as he moved even closer. She flinched, desperately wishing she could back away - she focused on her feet, trying to wiggle her toes in her shoes.

"I'm not lying," Hermione countered stubbornly.

Riddle ignored her. "Do you know what I was doing in there?" he asked, gesturing toward the drawing room door with a minuscule nod of his head.

The abrupt change of subject and the question caused her to hesitate. At the same time, she was covertly flexing her foot inside her shoe. Merlin, this was difficult.

"Come now," he drawled, his smirk widening until the sharp tips of his teeth showed through his parted lips, "tell me the truth. I can tell when you're lying."

Hermione winced, clenching her jaw. Stupid, stupid… stupid! Hermione chastised herself. She should have known he knew passive Legilimency when he called her a liar!

"Well, I suppose it's no matter," Riddle said before she could answer him. "Since you so rudely interrupted me, you will just have to do." His eyes gazed over her form, assessing her briefly, and he went to gather his ring from beside the body of his father.

No no – bloody hell – Divitiacus! This wasn't supposed to happen! She couldn't die – she was the only hope at finding out how to destroy a horcrux! Heart racing, she willed herself to move; she willed anything to move. She needed more time. Mind over matter, Granger, she thought, it's just an immobilizing spell.

Riddle's footsteps thumped across the hardwood floor, echoing as he stalked toward her with his wand raised.

"Wait!" she gasped, forcing herself to raise her hands. It was like trying to move them through concrete instead of air. The action parted her coat and Riddle's eyes moved from her raised hands to Slytherin's locket resting heavily over her shirt. His expression darkened with furious suspicion.

"Who are you?" he growled through his teeth, stalking close to her.

Eyes wide, Hermione quickly forced her stiff legs and torso to move.

But Riddle raised his wand higher, striking at her like the snake he was. She had just barely gotten all of her body parts free of the immobilization spell before the Cruciatus Curse hit her, searing her veins with fire. She went down screaming, collapsing into a heap against the wall. Her skin felt as if it was going to explode off her body any second. Needles digging under her nails – stabbing through her skull.

She emerged from the curse with blood filling her mouth, blinking rapidly at Riddle's feet. She almost didn't hear what he said next as she noticed her wand, barely an arm's length away from her on the ground. She was so close…

"Answer me. Who are you?" Riddle questioned in a rough staccato tone, raising his wand again.

Expecting another dose of the Cruciatus, Hermione rolled out of the way toward her wand, grasping at it tightly and bowling Riddle over in the process. Taking advantage of his momentary shock, she clumsily sprinted toward the door, blindly shooting spells behind her. Hermione's mind whirled, focusing on where she needed to go, and she disapparated with a 'crack'. Landing in the chamber beneath the forbidden wishing well, she could barely believe that she got away.

"Send me back, send me back!" she exclaimed, hoping someone would listen.

"Are you certain you want me to do that, Hermione Granger?" Divitiacus' voice sounded through her brain.

"Yes," Hermione said without hesitation, sighing as she caught her breath. She wanted to be in her own time – there had to be another way to destroy horcruxes, one that didn't have to involve her coming in direct contact with Tom Riddle. Dumbledore was successful at destroying the ring; she just needed to figure out how he did it.

"If you insist," Divitiacus replied, sending in the bright light and rushing wind.

This time when Hermione opened her eyes, she was standing at the bloodied edge of the wishing well with a strange iridescent white stone in her hand and the carcass of a goat lying at her feet. She examined the curious stone in the moonlight, bringing it closer to her face, noticing the little specs of glowing sand in the stone. Time sand... Was that how Divitiacus wanted her to get rid of the horcruxes? Time travel?

Behind her, the leaves rustled, crunching ominously, and she froze, her hand tightening on her wand. The warm presence of someone standing far too close caused the hairs to prickle on the back of her neck and her heart sunk in her chest once she realized who it was.

"You honestly didn't think you'd get away from me that quickly. Your apparation technique is appalling." Riddle paused and she could feel him picking up a tendril of her hair, stroking it between his fingers. The tip of his wand pressed hard against her back.

"Now, why don't you tell me where you got that locket."

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