Deus Ex Machina

ONE: A Higher Power Intervenes.



WARNINGS: nothing that I can think of, but it is rather surreal.



A few quotes that I like:



It is impossible to experience one\'s death objectively and still carry a tune? Woody Allen



Courage is the art of being the only one who knows you\'re scared to death.

Harold Wilson (1916 - 1995)



To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.

J. K. Rowling, ‘Harry Potter and the Philosopher\'s Stone’, 1997



It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.

J. K. Rowling, ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, 2005’



Many that live deserve death. And some die that deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then be not too eager to deal out death in the name of justice, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends.

J. R. R. Tolkien (1892 - 1973), ‘The Lord Of the Rings’, Book Four, Chapter One



That\'s the thing about Mother Nature, she really doesn\'t care what economic bracket you\'re in.

Whoopi Goldberg



Just a bit of philosophy for you to take away from today.







In answer to reviews:



Werewolfhime Flipping heck duckie! You’ve ALREADY read the opening 3 chapters! Good things come to those who wait! One chapter per week, no more, no less!



LadyVoldemort87 I was going for pure evil with Voldemort; everything nasty that I could think of went in. Were there fighting kids in Dr. Who? I couldn’t tell you, I’ve only watched some of them. My other half told me there was and then went into a huge plot overview… I tuned out. I like Dr. Who, but only really in small instalments. I really can’t watch Torchwood because it scares me too much, and the Sarah Jane Spin off is aimed at the tiddlypeeps who are in bed before 8 o’clock. Dr. Who is the medium between them, but it grates on me sometimes.



There’s a lot more plot to come, but it is a LOT lighter than the opening chapter – though it gets a bit surreal in the near future.



Snapes_Goddess It was your birthday! You didn’t tell me! I hope you had a good day! Writers block is a pain in the bum. Keep smiling darling, and keep the plots coming! I’d love to have a peak in your notebook! My ‘bunny hutch’ has a fair bit in it, but its nowhere near as good a plot bunny habitat as what you have!



Winters Nope, I’m not selling the innocent Lucius to you for double chocolate fudge brownies (Don’t actually like fudge); and I’ve really ticklish feet so the foot rub wouldn’t get you far, I’m afraid… I’ll need a better bribe than that! Keep reading!



LaBibliographe You can’t get much worse than doomed to extinction! It always struck me that the purebloods’ eugenics was a disaster waiting to happen, I just took it to the ultimate extreme. The far too close bloodlines are causing so many problems for them!



Throne room? No no no, it’s all open air! The cages holding the magical folk are behind him in the elements. The muggles are being lined up outside. He’ll be under protective charms from the weather – but I think he’d be overjoyed if the muggles were also soaked through before climbing to their doom… not to mention the steps would be wet and slippy – the muggles would be falling down more. Then if it froze they’d probably stick to it. Its also a reminder of the toxic air and their ruined world as they leave it.



Was the handsome SKELETAL man, with white hair and the SCYTHE Lucius? I thought it was a bit more obvious – but there’s more clues to come as to the identity of him. You’re close with Dumbledore in the last book and the more ‘limbo’ realm. But I’ve gone a bit more Greek with it, rather than the train platform.



It doesn’t stay so gory – I just wanted to paint a picture of what might happen if the Order didn’t win… and then I went a bit further, and then a bit more, and then a bit more… and it shaped into the horror of chapter 1!



Glad you’re on board as a reader!



HermioneMalfoyFan I made certain there were enough warnings – I didn’t want anyone upset at anything I wrote. My aunt committed suicide six years ago; and for three years afterwards I wouldn’t go anywhere NEAR a fic with a suicide warning – and I complained violently in reviews at authors who had suicides in their fics and didn’t have an appropriate warning. I am more… what’s the word I’m looking for?… stable? Stable in my emotions when I hear about a suicide on the news or read it in the paper or in a fic, but there was a time not so long ago when I wasn’t able to read such things. I didn’t want to upset anyone who might have been in my shoes or similar – so lots of warnings to be safe.



I like some dark stuff, but not too much gore. I can’t watch Jurassic Park without making a dash for behind the sofa! Forget me reading or watching a horror story!! But this was more about ‘what if’ and going to extremes of nightmares. I wanted to paint a picture of a desperate situation where there is nothing anyone can do to put to rights what’s gone so very wrong. We’ve all got a dark side, but how deep that darkness goes is variable – I like a bit of a scare to remind me the world isn’t as wonderful as I’d like to believe, a bit of dark keeps me grounded…



… and the above 2 paragraphs make me think that talking to a psychologist might be a good idea!



The How she goes back and Who sends her is coming up. As for who she met in the cave, I thought the SCYTHE might just give it all away! It wasn’t Lucius who comforted the dying witch. Its really obvious who he is in the start of this chapter! But you’re not the only one thinking he’s Lucius! He’s got white hair, not blonde; and a SKELETAL appearance, and a SCYTHE. The Scythe is the key to the puzzle! There’s not many picking up on that little bit – I thought it might be more obvious! I was wrong.



Hermione does die in chapter one, there’s no doubt about that – the body was just left for her finders to disrespect. Hermione is going back in time… but the battered remains of a damaged body isn’t going with her.



How many years?… somewhere between 20 and 30. The purebloods are wanting to repopulate the world as soon as they can – I can’t see the teenagers (who live) actually just making it to their majority before it is ‘recommended’ they attempt to have a family.



Awwww… you don’t want to be the one to corrupt Lucius? Actually, Lucius getting rid of his ‘V plates’ is VERY realistic – been there, done that, wrote a transcript and published it in a fic (hoping my fiancé doesn’t read this! Lol!).



Original is my middle name… well, actually its Gail, but metaphorically…



Cocktails was a disclaimer whoopsie, it will be back with us soon. Problems are all fixed and I’ve faced the embarrassing slap on the wrist.



Voracious Reader I’m not sure weather to take the ‘train wreck’ comment as a compliment or an insult! I’ll just take it as neutral for the moment, though my beta said something similar between the minty fresh comments! Lol!



The opening chapter was supposed to be evil – things lighten up a lot, but there is the occasional nasty moment to come later on, but nowhere near as awful as the opening! This coming chapter is very surreal, and the one after is tragic… but then its rather smiley until a little later on.



I hope the fic isn’t completely judged on the opening chapter, and that it doesn’t put people off, its only sort-of 5% dark! I just really wanted to bring across an extreme evil and well, the end of the world!



Glad you’re on board and I hope you start enjoying the fic as it matures – you HAVE to stick around for Lucius losing his virginity! Its teenage fumbling at its best! Lol! And how Hermione brings down Voldie (or, more accurately Tom Riddle) is… pure IRONY! Lol! Genius, even if I do say so myself! Lol!











***

It was dark, very dark. Yet the darkness was comforting, like the darkness an unborn babe experiences in the sacred sanctuary of the Mother’s womb. This darkness was warm and safe, a cocoon of calm and protection. The only light was a small flickering lantern hanging from a pole at the front of the boat. The river had a multitude of currents within it, some fast creating small rapids whose bubbles caught the dim light; and then there were the gentle, calm swirls of water that could only be noticed when fallen leaves floated on them.



The sounds surrounding Hermione were so beautifully organic that she wept in joy. The wooden boat creaked; there was a small splash as the handsome, skeletal man punted along, the pole cutting into the water with a swirling swish as it pushed the little boat forward. The Scythe was laid in the bottom of the boat, rocking and knocking against the wood as the boat rocked.



“This river has seen far too much traffic as of late.” Said the man, his voice beautiful and melodic, a fitting sound for the environment.



“Erm, which river are we on? It smells clean; and I think I’ve heard fish splashing and a few bird calls… I haven’t heard anything like that for a very long time.” Hermione said, her voice cracking as she spoke, she’d spent so long being silent to avoid detection – she’d almost forgotten how to have a conversation.



“This river is perfectly clean, there are many creatures of the dark who make it their home. I work hard to keep it that way.” He replied, skilfully navigating a sharp curve in the river with the pole.



“Sir, where are we?”



“You float upon the river Styx… rest and relax, there is much distance to travel before we meet our destination.”



Stunned into silence and not daring to ask her many questions, Hermione sank into a deep sleep.



***



Hermione lay on a bed of soft moss by the river that tinkled and whooshed as its crystal clear waters danced over shining rocks. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, not a dark acid green; and birds twittered in a nearby tree.



‘Oh, the underworld isn’t what I expected.’ She thought, sitting up and looking down at her healed, fully fleshed out body in white robes. A small oxbow pool of still water sat off from the Styx, and Hermione took in her first sip of clean water in ten years and washed her face. Sitting back on her heels by the water, Hermione saw her reflection was not as she remembered last seeing it in a broken window.



She wasn’t malnourished, and she looked much younger; probably seventeen, rather than the thirty Hermione estimated herself at before she died, without a watch that worked or a calendar, she honestly hadn’t known the date or time.



Her hair was long, glimmered mahogany in the sun and had gentle waves rippling down it. Her tresses were not the mass of knotted curls she had attempted to hack off with a jagged knife, held in bony fingers under an acidic sky. Her face was slimmer, but not as sunken as her sick former self, but it was hardly the face Hermione remembered. She touched one dark brown eyebrow and watched her reflection do the same to confirm she was actually looking at her reflection, not another person. The reflection vanished as a brown fish created ripples as its mouth opened up on a vibrant red dragonfly that had landed on the water.



Hermione shook her head, the beautiful tresses catching the afternoon sunlight. Stranger things had happened in her life, she was not going to fret over her appearance and age changing; aesthetics had never been her strong point anyway. For goodness sake, she’d ended up part cat after the polyjuice incident – this was a actually a vast improvement!



The witch turned at the sound of a high-pitched giggle behind her, and found herself looking at a little girl of about seven years of age skipping toward her.



“Oh, hello.” Hermione said, not recognising her voice as her own. She sounded so melodic, like reeds by a river – an improvement on a scratched and damaged throat, painful from crying and toxic air.



“Hello!” said the little girl, twirling her long baby blonde hair in her fingers and twisting her bodies from side to side. She was barefoot and wore a crown of daises in her hair. Her lively green dress was trimmed with daffodil-yellow stitching. Skipping in little circles she began to sing.





“I am she who all must thank,

I bring existence, my love takes it back.

But there is one who wants both roles,

His power is ruthless, he has no soul!”





Slowly the image changed, the little child morphed into a young teenage girl, a slim waist and barely formed breasts encased in a flattering style dress of a brilliant and vibrant pink, deep rich green stitching accented developing curves. Her hair had darkened to a shining shade of oak bark, crowned with a ring of roses of varying shades.





“Life cannot compete with such death!

And the Earth will soon draw its last breath!

It cannot be! Tis not the way!

And on this path time cannot stay!”





The teenager gradually became a grown woman of middle age; long russet tresses were capped with a covering of golden autumn leaves. Her dress was long and formal, reaching her ankles in a shimmering fall of auburn silk, golden stitching punctuating the fabric.





“And so have we, My love and I,

Changed the time so he shall die!

But time cannot change alone,

It needs a guide to steer it home.”





Once more the woman changed, aging again before Hermione’s eyes into an elderly woman, wrinkled and stooped with a kind face and ice-blue eyes blurred with cataracts. Her dress was long and as white as fresh snow; covered with a grey woollen shawl to combat the cold. Her head was covered in a small cap of evergreen fern as she spoke her last verse.





“And so we saw where all went wrong,

Here I shall complete the song.

You are to go back to where we send,

And with your kind heart, time shall mend.”





The hooded man with the scythe appeared suddenly and gently kissed the old woman tenderly on the lips. They looked toward Hermione and both breathed a spell. Instant awareness struck Hermione before she tumbled into oblivion and unconsciousness.







*****

More next week! Hope you liked it, and I hope people now know that the bloke with the scythe is actually Death, rather than Lucius. It is just one of my thoughts that Mother Nature would be partnered (in more ways than one) with Death; makes sense to me in my head.