Where Canon Doesn't Rule

A new challenge - hprare-cliche

2014-11-16T01:21:00Z

It's been a while. I've been more stressed with real life and too many WIPs... plot bunnies that catch my interest but not enough to finish. I've been resisting posting until I have finished fics.

As part of my efforts to get back into writing I've decided to have a look at a prompt fest. Anyone else seeking inspiration feel free to go on over and have a look.

Celebrate the rare pair love with hprare_cliche
Claiming is now open
Submissions are due on Jan 20, 2015

New Big Bangs and Reverse Bangs

2012-03-01T01:30:53Z

Please note I've posted my hgcrossoversand cwbigbang fics on my Fanfiction.net account. I hate html coding and editing on LJ is giving me fits. I think I'll just stick with putting a master post here and the fics on an archive.

Finished both of my hgbigbang pieces, and the itanaruswap project. Keep an eye out on the communities. The fics will be posted sometime in March.

I'm finding having a deadline is a good motivator so I signed up for a few more.
Here they are if anyone is interested in challenging themselves...

sgareversebang - I've been meaning to write a sga fic but never got the inspiration. Hoping the artwork will help. Signups closed

au_bigbang- Signups close April 1.
=== one is a WIP fem!Naruto/Itachi piece that has been dragging forever. Motivation to finish!
=== two is a short Kagome/Spock piece
=== three is a short Hermione/Minato piece

More Information
trekreversebang - still debating if I should or not - sign ups close March 31

Any other takers?

Masterpost: Q's Gift (Hermione/nu!Spock ~ PG13)

2011-11-08T04:53:34Z

Title: Q’s Gift
Author: sarhea
Fandom: Harry Potter; Star Trek AOS/Reboot/IX/2009; Star Trek TNG
Categories: crossover, xover, gen, het, romance, drama, scifi, supernatural, AU
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/nu!Spock, Sarek, T’Pau, Q, Kirk, McCoy, Pike, Number One, Spock!Prime
Summary: Q decides Hermione Granger is messing up the timeline given her tendency to fight for underdog causes so he drops her in the future to be found by young James Kirk. To stir the pot, he also leaves a trail of bread crumbs for the House of Surak... clues to help T’Pau’s descendants identify a singularly unique human female with great power, rare abilities, and a driven intellect. Then one day Spock meets a woman who could be the model for a painting created long before his father was even born, a human who was More. Having lost his mother to Nero he is unwilling to let a woman who soothes his soul to walk away without making a claim on her.
Warnings: spoilers for AOS, AU B7 EWE
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 32K
Status: Complete
For: Star Trek Big Bang 2011 startrekbigbang
Author Notes:
- AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; ignore the epilogue. Hermione and Ron do not get together. They Do Not Work in my universe.
- Post the Star Trek Reboot movie. Key changes near the end of the movie and several new scenes between their return to Earth and the Admiralty confirming Kirk’s Captaincy.
- Vulcan terms from the VLD. I've also compiled a glossary here.
Artist: ladymac111 – Still squeeing whenever I take a look.
Mixer: wyntreaurora – Unfamiliar but striking, provoking pieces. Found myself listening several times. The instrumental ones gave me chills, in a very good way.
Beta: Liongirl11 aka Shannon – Many thanks for taking a chance on a near stranger.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and co, JK Rowling does. I don’t own Trekverse, the concept, series/movies, or associated characters, Gene Roddenberry, Paramount, J.J. Abrams, and various other holding companies do.
Links: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | Art | Mix here and here

Q's Gift 5/5 (Hermione/nu!Spock ~ PG13)

2011-11-08T04:41:23Z

Summary: Epilogue. At the end of his leave on Hamlan, Spock and Hermione make plans to formalize matters.

AN: AU, Post the Movie.

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

~ooO A Union of Two Ooo~

T'Pau carefully arranged the headpiece of her outfit before re-centring the elaborate and heavy collar-like necklace representing her status and clan over her heavy formal robes. Today was a day she had been looking forward to for a long time. Finally, the Gryffindor Princess would take the first steps to be formally bonded with one of T'Pau's descendants; her talents and prestige would be added to the House of Surak.

It was a pity Spock had chosen to retain his commission in Starfleet, but T'Pau was certain he would eventually return to Hamlan.

"T'sai T'Pau. S'haile Spah'k has arrived with a human companion."

T'Pau nodded and rose to step out and speak to her great-grandson. Before she exited, T'Pau gave her aide instructions to continue with her assigned research project while T'Pau was otherwise occupied.

Her current aide was a teenaged great-great-granddaughter who had survived the destruction of Vulcan. S'vai had expressed a desire to enter the diplomatic service and requested the opportunity to assist T'Pau two hours every evening. T'Pau hoped S'vai found an alternative field of interest that would not involve travelling off-planet. There were not sufficient unbonded females, or Vulcans for that matter, to encourage extended periods of self-exploration.

The matriarch seated herself before nodding to her great-grandson, dressed in formal dark brown Vulcan robes embroidered in bronze. The short human female standing beside him was dressed in dark green robes embroidered with black silk thread along the collar, front, and cuffs. T'Pau raised a brow, noting that the designs on the female's robes were non-Vulcan glyphs. Nothing with which she was familiar.

"Spah'k."

Sarek's son bowed his head. "Pid-kom."

T'Pau glanced at the human female who met her eyes calmly, almost placidly. T'Pau gained the impression of great hidden depths. This one had almost Vulcan-like control. Suddenly, she wished she had arranged to interact more with Hermione Evans. Unfortunately, her duties and Hermione Evans' commitments rarely allowed their paths to intersect informally.

"What do you seek, son of Sarek?"

He glanced at his companion. T'Pau was certain they were communicating non-verbally, but how exactly she was not sure. They were not touching each other, and she was certain they were not bonded.

Amanda Grayson's brown eyes met T'Pau's black ones calmly.

"We seek your permission to bond. Our minds are compatible, and our interests are similar."

T'Pau's eyes sharpened. "Will she join you in Starfleet?"

"Not at this time, Elder," the young female murmured in soothing tones. "My duty to the Vulcan community is greater than my personal preferences. I will remain on Hamlan until the Enterprise's five-year mission has ended, or until Spock experiences the Fires."

T'Pau nodded, absorbing the information. "Very well. Kneel before me. I must verify your compatibility before I give my consent."

Both followed her instructions and remained still as T'Pau placed an aged hand upon each young face. The stern face creased slightly as she examined both minds, one familiar and disciplined, the other vibrant and fluid.

Black eyes widened as the link between them resisted her probes, almost twisting out of her mental 'fingers.' It was not the faint thin cord she was used to seeing in compatible couples. It was several strands twisted and braided together; each strand adding its strength to the whole until the connection nearly resembled a Fires-forged marriage bond. The resonance between them was extraordinary. She caught small glimpses of hand-holding, fingertips brushing against bare skin, a focused passion for something more that caught T'Pau off guard. Then she was pushed out firmly and surely.

She stared at her new great-granddaughter-to-be. Hermione Evans did not look away or fidget but met the matriarch's eyes with her own calm, unflinching gaze. At that moment, T'Pau found she could easily believe all of Q's claims. Humans were a driven and creative race, but there was something more in Hermione Evans. The decades to come would be filled with many challenges and changes for Vulcans and the Federation, events catalyzed by this single female.

"Sit," she ordered the two of them and waited until they were settled across from her. "Do you have any other plans to formalize your union?"

"We will be having a Federation wedding ceremony in addition to the Van-Kal t'Telan. So that I can contact and visit Spock without too much interference," Hermione explained. "Our bonding will be concluded on Hamlan when the Fires burn."

T'Pau raised an eyebrow. "You seem certain Spock will experience the Fires," she mused.

Hermione merely looked back blankly. "I am certain you are aware of Elder Selek. He has informed us it is a very strong possibility. Even stronger, given the current situation."

T'Pau inclined her head in assent.

"It is a prudent assumption." Black eyes twinkled. "A very welcome and anticipated event as well," she added mildly.

Spock blinked twice. A small loss of control, but forgivable.

"Forgive me, Pid-kom, but your positive response is…unexpected."

T'Pau leaned back in her chair. "Do not be foolish. Do you not remember it was I who listened to the words of the being called Q?" She turned to the Terran. "I am uncertain of how much Spock has told you…"

"Quite a bit," Hermione admitted freely. "It is illogical to start a relationship under false pretences. He said you interacted with an unknown shape-shifting being who called himself Q. He is the one responsible for moving me to this time and space."

T'Pau inclined her head. "At first it seemed impossible. But when I considered the facts and Q's words and what I knew…there was no benefit for him to lie. And he did not challenge me to do anything illogical…just to be open to the possibility. I had nearly forgotten when Sarek contacted me and said he had interacted with the Gryffindor Princess," T'Pau admitted.

Light brown eyes widened. "That's why you were so quick to offer me a place in the colony!"

"And you were a proven Healer," T'Pau pointed out mildly. "Healing is a rare and valued gift, now more than ever."

Hermione glanced at Spock, almost drawing courage from him, before turning to T'Pau.

"Spock informs me that you encouraged Sarek to look for me. And Sarek told him to win my respect and trust if he ever met me. So that I would ally myself with Vulcan."

T'Pau inclined her head. "I did. But do you truly believe that respect and interest would not be there if your heart-brother had not introduced you to his First Officer? Do you believe Spock would not have offered the resources and contacts he possessed to Heal Christopher Pike, his instructor and mentor? Did Spock mislead you in any fashion in regards to his interest in you? That it is false? That it is for purely clinical reasons?"

Hermione shook her head, smiling faintly. "No. He has not. He cannot mislead me."

T'Pau did not smile, though her pleasure could be detected by those familiar with her.

"Then I am pleased. I had intended to ally my clan with you; the benefits Q alluded to were not easy to discount. But to force or trick you into a bonding? No. That would have been very illogical. There was too much at stake to risk your disagreement. Especially after the disaster. I did what I could to increase your connection to Vulcan. I instructed Sarek to reduce contact with you so that you could come to a decision on your own, without any unintended pressure. I must confess that I had not anticipated your choice to share a household with Selek."

"James suggested it," Hermione admitted. "I was a little concerned about living surrounded by Vulcans with no human contact. He said Selek was more accepting and comfortable with emotions. And he was right." She glanced up, flashing a smile at Spock. "We have a lot in common. Being time-displaced is not something easy to comprehend." She turned to T'Pau, her expression becoming serious, earnest. "Thank you for your forbearance, for not interfering."

T'Pau blinked, taken aback by the genuine expression and words. "But I did."

Hermione shook her head. "You did not force us into making a choice. You did not drug or compel us into believing a lie. You did not pretend everything was perfect and that what you wanted would be what I would want. You allowed us to choose for ourselves."

T'Pau was definitely taken aback. "To do otherwise would be illogical and unethical!" she pointed out.

Hermione looked away, her eyes distant and unfocused. "It happened to me before. When I went to school, I became friends with a boy who came from a very traditional family. During the summers, I would spend a few weeks with the Weasleys. In our sixth year of schooling, I became infatuated with him." She turned to T'Pau, her eyes shimmering with old hurt. "I would have married him if this Q hadn't dropped me in the future.

"The first few weeks were hard. I missed Ron desperately. Then I became very sick. The free clinic doctor who saw me asked if I had ever used recreational drugs because the symptoms were very close to withdrawal symptoms. When I recovered, all my feelings for Ron had vanished. It was then that I realized that Molly Weasley had used love potions to make me attracted to her son, who, I can truthfully say, is a waste of air and food.

"You did not drug us, T'Pau. You did not trick us into sharing a living space. You did not insist on introducing me as a potential in-law. You did not push me to correspond with Spock. You did not contact me every other day and ask me about my feelings. You did not practically announce our engagement when we had not even completed school.

"So believe me, T'Pau, I would be proud to call you Clan Mother."

T'Pau pretended to ignore her great-grandson's fingers lacing through the fingers of the smaller hand belonging to the female sitting next to him. Hermione's loss of control was excusable. Forced bonding through drugs and mental reprogramming were inexcusable! It was a miracle Hermione had recovered enough to reach out, to trust and form an intimate bond.

The elderly Vulcan reached out and stroked Hermione's cheek, lightly skimming over the meld points, projecting an accepting serenity. She ignored the flowing tears and caught the younger female's eyes.

"The fault is not yours. You were betrayed by your Elders."

"I know." Hermione smiled, the expression more of a feral baring of teeth in challenge. "It is just one more reason why I chose a Vulcan as my husband, my bondmate."

T'Pau cocked her head in curious inquiry. "Tell me, Hermione Evans, what would you have done if you had not met Spock?"

Hermione's response was quick and to the point. "Once my personal situation was financially and physically secure, I would have arranged to have children without a partner."

T'Pau was taken aback. "You would not have sought out love?"

"I have love. I love James and Christopher and Lyri and many others. But to bind myself, to vow forever? Never to one who can't comprehend the commitment, never without trust, respect, and caring." She turned to Spock and smiled gently, squeezing his hand. "There are no doubts in the connection we have."

T'Pau nodded. "So I have seen. When do you wish to have the ceremony? It will take several months to arrange a large Terran-style ceremony."

"Unnecessary." Spock spoke quietly but firmly. "We plan on having a small civil ceremony on the Enterprise."

Hermione smirked. "James insisted on giving me away, so Christopher, Admiral Pike, will be conducting the Federation ceremony."

"Have you set a guest list for the Federation ceremony?"

"It is a work-in-progress. I know non-family do not witness the Vulcan ceremony, so most of my colleagues will be invited to attend the Federation ceremony. If you have anyone you wish to invite, let Spock know." She grinned, seeing T'Pau's raised eyebrow. "I'm looking after the ceremony on Hamlan, and Spock is organizing the one on the Enterprise."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Jim studied the bride and groom from his designated spot in the circle of witnesses. He was the only human present; all others were Vulcans and relatives. Spock was wearing formal red-brown Vulcan robes, but Mia had chosen to wear a cream silk sleeveless, calf-length dress that looked more like lingerie than a dress, given how it fitted around her boobs and flowed freely from below the gathers underneath. He wondered why she wasn't more concerned about getting a sunburn or heat stroke.

Jim Kirk tugged at the collar of his dress uniform and wished he'd taken Mia up on her suggestion to change into less restrictive clothing. But he hadn't because he wanted to honour his heart-sister the best way he knew how. His options for civilian formal wear were limited, and he did not like the styles Vulcans favoured for formal events.

"It will not take long," a familiar raspy voice murmured from beside him.

Jim turned and looked up at the elderly but unbowed Vulcan dressed in deep midnight blue robes.

"I know, Selek," Jim murmured as he deliberately released the hem of his tailored Starfleet dress tunic. "I'm a bit reluctant, that's all."

Selek raised a brow. "May I ask why? You had no doubts watching Admiral Pike marry them. In fact, you gave Hermione away and did not raise any objections."

Jim nodded. "I know, Selek. It's just that Vulcan bondings are essentially unbreakable."

Selek tilted his head to one side. "They are more sturdy than human wedding vows but not unbreakable. It can be done even without the consent of both parties involved, in extreme circumstances."

Blue eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really."

"Hmmm."

"And saying that, I must add that I doubt the bond between Hermione and Spock can be similarly broken. Hermione's…unusual talents and Spock's own gifts will make their connection stronger than a typical marriage bond."

Jim blinked. "Do they know that?" he wanted to know.

Selek inclined his head. "They do. Hermione theorized the possibility, and T'Pau has since confirmed it. Their bond will be 'until death do us part.'"

Jim turned to watch Spock and Mia stand before T'Pau facing each other and listened to them speak in High Vulcan, an obscure, archaic dialect not in the Universal Translator.

As though sensing his frustration, Selek spoke softly. "It is a standard wedding ceremony confirming their consensual agreement to be bonded. T'Pau has confirmed it."

Jim relaxed and continued to watch as T'Pau placed her hands upon Spock and Mia's faces and did something. Mia had warned him of it. What she hadn't warned him of were the ribbons of luminescent white light that appeared out of nowhere, encircling his heart-sister and First Officer after T'Pau stepped back.

He watched as Mia held out her left hand palm up and Spock immediately reciprocated, placing his larger hand face down on top of hers. And he listened to her speak in High Vulcan, actions and words that clearly surprised the Vulcans present.

"What's she saying?" Jim wanted to know.

Selek began translating softly and quickly for Jim.

"I declare before all that my choice to bond with S'chin T'gai Spock in the way of his people and mine has been made of my own free will. I stand beneath the open sky on bare earth and swear this vow. I reaffirm this vow by the fire of my spirit and the blood in my veins."

"Witnessed," a cool, soothing feminine voice murmured in Jim's mind, though his ears heard nothing.

"Witnessed," a hot, impatient teenage male hissed in his brain.

Jim spun around, frantically looking for the source of the voices, and saw that everyone around him had also experienced something. Did they hear what he just heard?

"Witnessed," the deep voice of an older male rumbled.

"Witnessed," the high, childish treble of a young girl piped out.

"Witnessed," a masculine voice called out in a light baritone.

Jim spun around. He had heard that last voice. Out loud and not in his head.

"Q!" Jim had never heard Selek speak in such a wrath-filled, poisonous tone before. He was very happy it was not directed at him. "What are you doing here!"

Jim looked in the same direction as Selek and stared. There was a stranger standing less than thirty feet away; a human man in an unfamiliar jumpsuit, with black shoulders and pants and a red top, with a silver Starfleet insignia on the left breast.

"So you are the one called Q."

Jim wasn't quite sure just how Mia had managed to get in front of him without drawing his attention.

The one she called Q bowed from the waist and saluted, two fingers to the temple and away.

"At your service."

Mia studied Q with cold eyes.

"You are the one responsible for ripping me from my world and time."

Q eyed her warily as she stalked towards him to stand before him. She was small and fragile-seeming in her bare feet, the top of her head not even reaching his shoulders.

"I should be mad at you, but I am not." She smiled brilliantly as she stood on tip-toe and brushed a kiss against his cheek. "Thank you. Thank you for what you've given me."

Q eyed her warily like any sane man sensing an imminent feminine storm.

"Wait, you aren't mad at me?"

Mia grinned wryly. "If you had asked me that years ago I would have said 'Hell Yes!' But now, even though I have lost, what I've gained more than makes up for what I no longer have."

Q smirked cockily. "You are a very nice but odd example of humanity! Most of your species are ungrateful, unappreciative, narrow-minded, short-sighted, and I'll stop right there," he concluded quickly, seeing her eyes narrow dangerously. He turned to Selek. "Why can't the rest of you mortals be as nice and appreciative as Hermione here?

Selek glared. "Because you cause trouble wherever you go, Q. And you enjoy dropping us mortals in untenable situations and watching us flounder," he pointed out acidly. "Your presence only means disaster is imminent."

Q frowned. "I do not appreciate being called a bad luck charm!"

Selek snorted. "More like a bad penny that turns up where it is least wanted." Dark brown eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, Q? Why did you interfere and move Hermione forward while doing nothing when Nero moved back?"

Q glared. "There are rules, Ambassador Spock. As much as I enjoy rule-breaking, there are some rules no Q can ever break! Not if the fabric of reality is to remain whole!"

Selek raised a sceptical brow. "I find that hard to believe, Q. You claim to be all-powerful, and yet you say you couldn't stop one mortal ship from travelling through a black hole?"

"So long as the fabric of reality remains intact, I may not interfere, unless I am undoing events caused by the actions of a Q, myself or another."

Selek stared hard at Q. "So Vulcan…"

"No Q caused Romulus's sun to go supernova. No Q was responsible for the presence of the red matter that created the black hole. Mortals created this mess, so mortals must clean it up. So it has been decreed by the Q-Continuum."

Selek sagged. Jim edged closer, just in case his elderly friend collapsed.

"So, what are you doing here then?" Selek asked in a weary tone. "Why did you move Hermione to this point in time-space?"

Everyone turned to hear the answer to the question.

Q hesitated before speaking.

"Tell me, Ambassador, did you ever read Picard's reports about his first meeting with me?"

Selek frowned. "Yes. You transported the Enterprise to an unknown region of the Milky Way galaxy. And the Enterprise was boarded by the…Borg." Dark eyes widened. "The Borg."

Q nodded sharply. "Yes. The Borg. You are very aware of the threat they pose to all sentient species in this galaxy, any galaxy for that matter. They will assimilate and eradicate all life in their quest for unattainable perfection."

Selek steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. "The Federation is not ready for such a threat. They barely managed to survive the Collective in my time!"

Q snorted. "More by luck than a genuine advantage! Do you honestly believe this Federation will be ready when the Borg come calling in a hundred years?" he inquired sarcastically.

Selek shook his head. "Starfleet has lost too many ships, an entire class and generation of experienced officers. The Federation will be focused on rebuilding and reassuring the current members, not reaching out to make new allies. The Klingon fleet was decimated by the Narada, and Vulcan is gone. An alliance with Romulus is not possible, and the Cardassians are undependable."

Q inclined his head. "Yes. Unlike most of my compatriots, I am concerned about the Borg." He frowned slightly, looking away into the distance. "I would prefer to see the Collective destroyed before they assimilate all of this galaxy and reach the galactic centre." He smirked at Selek. "You know as well as I do that things will get messy if they succeed."

Selek shuddered in remembered horror. "Yes."

"So what does all this have to do with me?" Mia inquired hesitantly.

Q turned to her and smiled broadly. "Tell me, Hermione, what happens to electronics when you use what you call magic?"

Hermione frowned. "I have to be very careful," she admitted. "Or they will short circuit."

"Precisely!"

Selek frowned. "You cannot be serious, Q! Borg cubes are the size of small moons and are filled with hundreds of thousands of cybernetic drones! One witch, no matter how talented, cannot short circuit a single cube by herself."

Q smirked. "Who says she has to be the only one?"

Everyone froze. Jim wanted to throttle Q and demand answers. But he didn't because he sensed his usual methods of beating an opponent up for answers wouldn't work in this situation. Not against a being who talked casually of moving starships, crossing time, and undoing events!

"What exactly do you mean?" Sarek asked carefully since everyone had been stunned silent by Q's last statement.

Q moved to stand before Mia.

"You were born among mortals, but you are not one. Not entirely."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know, Daughter of Nimue."

Mia inhaled sharply. "There are tales…. Contrary to Muggle legend, Nimue was not the younger student of Merlin but his teacher, a beautiful, capricious female who was said to be one of the Sidhe. She lived in Underhill, a land that could not be reached by any mortal or mage. There was speculation that the first Magicals were changelings, Sidhe children abandoned in the mortal realm because they were too weak to survive in Underhill."

"More like experiments," Q murmured. "The Sidhe are a faction of Q who chose not to abide by the Continuum rules. Very much like Vosh-katur. Your ancestors were engineered to have a small portion of a Q's abilities. The experiment was to see how mortals would choose to use their new gifts."

"And the Magicals failed," Hermione murmured.

"They failed," Q acknowledged. "Most chose to abuse their powers for self-gain or to harm those with less abilities with no justification. There were a few who chose to serve but none who served with distinction, who did not raise one race above all others. None until you."

Hermione closed her eyes, inhaling sharply. "The House Elves."

"The House Elves. And the goblins, and the centaurs, and the werewolves, and the giants… You did not discriminate. Even when you feared, you did not hate."

Her lips curved into a wry smile. "They did not choose to be different from me any more than I chose to be different from them."

"And that is why I chose you." There was steel in Q's voice. "You are my gift to the sentient beings of this universe so that they have the chance to survive the Borg."

"Hermione is a single being," Selek pointed out. "She cannot teach others how to use magic."

Q's eyes locked with Hermione's. "But others can be born with the talent. They can be raised and taught how to use magic by their mother, their clan matriarch." He ignored the shell-shocked expressions of all present. "You are the first mage, but you will not be the last. The alpha quadrant will rise and fall by your choices, so what say you, Daughter of Nimue?"

Hermione inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. Then she began speaking. "I grew up expecting war. I fought one war against genocide. Now you are asking me to have children and raise them to fight a war they did not cause, an enemy intent on destroying all life?"

Q's response was very even. "Yes."

Her eyes snapped wide open, her nostrils flared, small blue sparks jumped from the elaborate arrangement of braids wrapped around her head. "Then I say, bring it! I am not going to roll over for the next breed of fanatics seeking to destroy me and mine! The Borg will pay a hefty price for every sector, every planet, they seek to assimilate."

Q laughed. Thunder rumbled in the cloudless skies.

"So spoken, so witnessed!" He leaned forward and grabbed her by her shoulders before leaning forward to brush a kiss against her forehead. There was a soft flash of white light that briefly blinded the mortals present. "My gift to you. Long life and health, strength to endure what is to come, an extended lifespan to raise a large family and continue with your research. Your legacy will stand against the Borg. Your name will be remembered and venerated. Your descendants will be sought after in all spheres: in battle, in politics, in sciences, in love."

And then he vanished.

Hermione turned towards Spock, seeking reassurance. "Tell me I did not commit to fighting an enemy I never even heard of before today," she begged.

Selek coughed. "If there is an enemy that must be fought, it is the Borg. They are a cybernetic race originating from the Delta Quadrant that seek only to assimilate all other living beings. The victims are literally absorbed into the Collective and lose all self-identity and independence. The Borg cannot be reasoned with, they feel no compassion or love or even hate."

"What do you mean by assimilate?" Sarek asked in subdued tones.

"The Borg inject nanobots into their victims through fang-like retractable tubes in their hands. The probes rewrite genetic code, reprogram the brain, grow implants and replace organs and limbs with cybernetic equivalents. It is a horrific experience, and the rescued victims take months to recover both physically and psychologically from the experience, if ever."

"How did the Federation defeat them?"

"With great cost and loss of life. Planets and fleets." Selek's response was not reassuring.

Hermione stirred. "So Q's actions and suggestions are logical then." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes," Selek conceded reluctantly.

Hermione nodded and reached out to her new bondmate. Spock brushed his fingers against hers before hooking two around hers. She looked up and around at Selek, Jim, Sarek, and T'Pau.

"We have time. It is safe to assume they will not show up for another century since they would not be affected by events in the Alpha Quadrant. For now, I do not wish to inform the Federation of what we know. It will take at least fifteen years for the Federation to recover to its pre-Narada strength. I would prefer Vulcan be in a position of strength when we share this information." She looked at Spock. "It might be safer if you retire your commission before that happens."

Spock inclined his head. "Perhaps. We can re-evaluate at the time."

She turned to Selek. "Can you start documenting everything you can remember about the Borg? The political, economic, and technological variables that worked for and against them?"

Selek nodded. Hermione turned to Jim.

"Can you sit on this? You know the Federation is off balance. Telling Starfleet of an enemy that will arrive in a hundred years is not going to help. They already have enough on their plate."

Jim frowned. "But Starfleet can–"

"Help? How? According to Selek, they barely beat them back a hundred years in the future. And that was in a time when they were presumably in a much stronger position."

"Not exactly," Selek murmured. Everyone turned to stare at him. "The politics of the time were rather strained," he explained. "The Federation had to make a number of concessions to reassure our neighbours that our intentions were peaceful. Intelligence was focused on the empires at our borders. Gaining intelligence on the Borg was not easy either. You can't insert an agent to infiltrate, their computer algorithms and technology were several generations ahead of our own, and their ships were bigger and capable of trans-warp. Not at this point in time, as far as I know," he added hastily.

Jim snorted. "So you're saying this is practically a no-win situation. We have to go up against an overwhelmingly advanced enemy with better ships, shields, and guns that wants to turn us into little robots."

Selek stared. "Yes."

Jim beamed. "Great! Where do I sign up?" Everyone stared at him blankly. Hermione snorted. "What? You know I don't believe in no-win scenarios!"

Spock shook his head in barely hidden exasperation.

Hermione stifled a snort, suddenly feeling much better despite the new threat looming over them. At least this time she was an adult getting a hundred years notice to prepare for a war. She felt warm reassurance in the back of her mind from her bondmate and pushed her own confidence through the bond.

Hermione did not expect the Borg to be a pushover; they were probably just as bad as Death Eaters. They were going to lose a lot of good people, probably friends and family, but Hermione knew there were some things that were worth fighting for.

Vulcans were trained pacifists, but under the right circumstances, they could be as fierce and relentless as Klingon warriors. Hermione realized she was not afraid to see that for herself. Not as long as she had Spock beside her. As long as he was with her, she was certain she could handle anything the universe threw at her.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

The End.

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

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Prev | Masterpost

Q's Gift 4/5 (Hermione/nu!Spock ~ PG13)

2011-11-08T04:39:35Z

Summary: Spock Prime and Hermione adjust to life on Hamlan (New Vulcan). And the seed of a new relationship takes root and blooms.

AN: Post the Movie.

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

~ooO Different Choices, Different Futures Ooo~

Selek, once known as Spock of Vulcan, stood on the step of a pre-fabricated shelter, a structure that most residents of Hamlan were living in instead of permanent structures. It was a logical decision until the infrastructure for communities was built, and then government and other public facilities, such as hospitals, schools, and community kitchens, had higher priority over permanent private and residential housing. As the construction crews completed a particular building, the pre-fab shelters were redeployed for private housing and even commercial use.

Selek had managed to secure one of those units and have it moved to a plot of private land just on the outskirts of the New Shi'Khar but within walking distance of one of the planned public transit lines. Currently most residents were using old-fashioned muscle-powered bicycles to get around the place. It was rare to see a Vulcan in full layered robes; most chose to wear one-piece jumpsuits or tunic-pants outfits.

The tension within him relaxed at the sight of a familiar cyclist approaching. He stepped inside and reappeared carrying a steel flask. He watched and waited until the cyclist was at the bottom of the steps and dismounting before stepping down to join her.

He held out the flask. "You must be thirsty."

The Caucasian human with curly light brown hair smiled brightly and accepted the container. "Very," she admitted, unscrewing the cap and drinking deeply.

Selek watched in silence as she consumed three-quarters of the flask. The labs she worked in were almost on the other side of the community. Hamlan was not as hot and arid as Vulcan, nor the gravity as high, but it was still hard on non-Vulcans, especially humans. But oddly enough, his quasi-charge had adapted with very little side-effects. In fact she was less prone to suffering from sun or heat strokes. One of the medical doctors had commented that she had a dense bioaura, a characteristic of telepathic and psi-sensitive races.

"How is your research progressing?" he asked her as they entered the pre-fab unit they shared.

Her weary expression faded and her eyes lit up as she began talking about her current botanical project to catalogue the native flora for potential pharmacological use. Selek allowed her to babble on. Humans enjoyed sharing their experiences and interests. Selek doubted her Vulcan colleagues would appreciate her vocal expressiveness. It was something Vulcans found difficult to understand. If a Vulcan wanted to share information, he or she would send all relevant documents and data files to the recipient's PADD or data account.

Even though Selek was listening attentively to her, part of him was distracted by personal speculations. Hermione Evans had secrets, larger ones than being telepathic and an Adept level healer. Sarek had also taken an unusual personal interest in her. True, she was a potential human daughter-in-law, but it did not excuse the circular verbal interplay between them whenever they met. Out of curiosity Selek had tried to detect and track any electronic communication between them and failed. Subtle attempts at 'reading' her had failed; her mind was too disciplined and well-structured.

Regardless, she had proven herself to be a very good healer and determined student. There had been some opposition, but no one could claim she was not a contributing member of the colony. In fact, there was quite some interest in her from the younger, more well-travelled males. Everyone knew Hermione Evans was more than just human, but no one was rude enough to ask her directly. Vulcans would follow the Rules of Privacy: observe, interpret, and draw conclusions. Selek was not so polite as to always follow the Rules, but he sensed Hermione was…fragile and still grieving, so he watched and waited.

He only hoped that when she was ready to move on, to form a romantic bond, she would choose Spock. From their conversations and his observations, Selek could clearly see that Hermione was loyal, devoted, and true. She did not trust or form ties lightly, but when she did, she would do anything for her friends. Just like Jim Kirk. He made a mental note to remind his younger counterpart to correspond more frequently. Spock would greatly benefit from having such devotion and support, even if they never bonded. It would not hurt to increase their familiarity with each other.

"Selek, there is something I'd like to tell you."

"What is it, Hermione?"

"I think you know half of it, that I am a bit of an oddity? A human being, a powerful Healer, and psi-talent?"

"You are an outlier, but I have seen other outliers in my life," Selek allowed.

She laughed, a brief, abrupt sound. "Well, I am more of an outlier than normal."

"How so?"

"Well, I was born and raised in twentieth-century Great Britain. I have no clue how I ended up in this time."

"Hermione, that is not too much of an oddity. I do not think you know, but the Narada was from a future, and she travelled more than a century into the past." Brown eyes twinkled. "I came from that same future as well, and I have no way to go back."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"Oh yes. I was born Spock cha'Sarek and served several decades in Starfleet before retiring to be an ambassador. If you feel out of place, imagine having a younger counterpart or working with people you 'know' are dead."

Hermione snorted. "All right, your situation is weirder than mine!"

Selek nodded. "I must agree. In fact, it was my own work as an Ambassador and certain choices I made that led to the Narada travelling into the past. The details are classified, and I cannot give you the details, but it is the truth. But please, never forget the Spock you know is not me. His life is very different from mine. In my universe, the Kelvin was not destroyed, Jim Kirk was raised by loving parents, George and Winona Kirk, Amanda Grayson died an old woman, Sarek died several decades later, and Vulcan was not destroyed."

"How extraordinary! Perhaps you would believe me then. Tell me, Selek, do you believe in magic?"

And what followed was a tale so extraordinary that Selek knew it had to be true; after all, truth was stranger than fiction. The Enterprise mission logs certainly proved that.

So he listened, occasionally asking questions for clarification and details to create a timeline and more complete model in his mind. She had been tense and wary at first, almost expecting him to denounce her as insane. When he didn't, she became more relaxed and willing to talk. Selek was a good listener, and he sensed that she needed one. She most likely hadn't been able to share the secrets of her abilities and past with anyone since she had been dropped in an alien place and time, a science-driven future Earth.

They only stopped to set out the food Selek had prepared and to eat it before resuming the conversation. By the time she slowed down and stopped talking, it was late, she was drooping in her chair, and Selek had plenty of food for thought.

After urging her to rest, the elderly Vulcan retreated to his own room to meditate and sort out all the new information he had been given.

There was something nagging him, like a splinter that was too small to be seen clearly. Something about the way she had found herself in the twenty-third century… Then it hit him.

"Q!"

"You rang, Captain Spock? Or should I call you Ambassador?"

Selek glared at the troublesome, jovial being. "You can call me Selek."

Q pouted. "But you are Spock!"

"Selek."

"Oh, all right! What do you want to know?"

"Hermione Evans."

"Oh, yes. One of my current projects." Q smirked. "All she told you was the truth. In fact, there are more truths that she has yet to share."

"Why did you transport her to the future?"

"Because she deserved a real chance."

Selek's brow furrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"

"If I had not acted, Hermione Jean Granger would have died in the Eugenics Wars. Her determination to protect those less able to would have attracted the wrong sort of attention. They would have found her and destroyed her, after ripping her mind and body apart."

Selek did not pale. Q's unexpected candidness did not hide his serious expression.

Satisfied he had the elderly Vulcan's complete attention, the omnipotent being continued.

"There is a great deal of her war experiences she has not shared, but believe me, she was one of the key players to support the focus of the less fanatical factions. Without her, Harry Potter would not have survived to win the war. She was at his side every step of the way, just like you backed Jim Kirk." Selek inclined his head, indicating comprehension. "Once she survived the war, her primary destiny was fulfilled. I acted to move her away before she could form more ties, before she married and had children. If she had formed such connections, she never would have adjusted to living in the future, in a scientific society," Q explained.

Selek did frown this time. "It was a cruel act, Q. You took her away from her entire world."

"If she had stayed, she would have given them her loyalty, and trust me, Selek, most of them were wastes of air and food," Q countered flatly. "Wizarding society was stagnant, prejudiced, narrow-minded, and ignorant. When the Eugenics Wars started, they dug deep holes and cowered inside them, protected by their wards and shields. The few with brains went out into the general populace to help the mundanes and blend in. Those who stayed in the Enclaves eventually died under nuclear bombardment. Hermione would have joined the resistance against Augments and Khan in the Eugenics Wars. She would have helped them win in the short run, but in the long run, their actions would have escalated the clashes and wiped out all life on Earth."

Selek bowed his head, remembering Edith Keeler. They had prevented Doctor McCoy from saving her because her influence would have eventually led to Germany winning World War II.

"But why this time? And this universe?" Selek wanted to know. "Why not during Archer's time, or even Picard's time?"

Q shrugged. "She would have been feared by Terra Prime factions when the Federation was first formed. And there was too much risk the Borg would prematurely discover and try to assimilate her in Picard's time. This universe is a fresh deck of cards."

"Sarek mentioned something about T'Pau being contacted by a Q. Was that you?"

"Yes. It is one of the key differences in this universe. Here, Sarek shared that knowledge with his son after the Kelvin was destroyed and there was the subsequent xenophobic backlash against Vulcanoid races. It was an attempt to remind his son, your younger counterpart, that there are some examples of humanity that are extraordinary."

"But why T'Pau?" Selek wanted to know. "She was a strong advocate for isolationism."

"Precisely! After the Kelvin, she could have succeeded in persuading the High Council to secede from the Federation. That would have been disastrous when the Borg comes. She had to see the worth in humanity, in the Federation."

"I don't see how you did it," Selek admitted. "T'Pau is very…stubborn."

Q smirked. "A bit of reverse psychology. I sang the praises of Hermione Granger's admirable attributes and abilities. And made a few throwaway remarks about how impossible it was for a Vulcan to have the necessary mental flexibility to match her intellect. That they would have to settle for an alliance at best. If they managed to find her."

Brown eyes widened in understanding. "You described Hermione as a prize."

"Of course! Because she is all that and more! She definitely knows it since she is the sole surviving trained adult mage in several quadrants. Take all you've seen of psi-powers, of Platonis, and multiply it fifty-fold because she is trained, disciplined, and experienced." Selek's eyes widened in dawning comprehension. "Until now, she had been utterly focused on safety and secrecy. Now that she has Vulcan's protection, she has relaxed enough to feel some obligation to her teachers and old world, to have mage-talented children and teach them what she knows."

Selek could not argue with that. There were nearly half a million Vulcans spread throughout the Federation, and they were all feeling the pressure to return to Hamlan, form bonds, bear and raise the next generation. He could only imagine how Hermione felt as the sole surviving human mage in a world and time that did not believe in magic.

As though reading his thoughts, Q continued, "She won't settle. She knows her worth and has done enough research to know she can fulfil biological obligations without settling for less. She will only accept a permanent partnership with one who sees her. Most of the Vulcans on this colony see her as a prize, a source of prestige and influence. You are among the few who see her as so much more."

Selek was silent for a while. "My younger self desires her."

"Then remind him to get to know Hermione Granger, the intellectual woman."

Selek nodded before asking the question that had been irking him.

"Why did you speak of her to Vulcans and then drop her off on Earth?"

"Earth would have exploited her, but Vulcans would have destroyed her emotionally," Q explained with a small smirk. "She needed to be cared for and have someone to care for, so I dropped her near young James Kirk. I honestly expected her to follow him to Starfleet Academy and meet Spock. I never thought it would take so long for her to bump into a Vulcan connected to Sarek. But she did do a good job of staying off the sensor grid," Q admitted grudgingly. "She avoided interacting with any groups that would have brought her into contact with non Vosh-katur. Her bioaura would have drawn too much interest."

"And now?"

"She is on her path. I'm more interested in watching than nudging since she has a better set of priorities than human males."

And with that, Q vanished, leaving behind a pensive hybrid considering the qualities of ruthlessness and compassion in a Q.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hermione Evans smiled as she poured a glass of savke berry juice and settled down in a stuffed chair to peruse the latest news downloaded onto her PADD. She scanned the synopses. Most of the top stories were related to Starfleet and Federation politics. A few were on Vuhlkansu. She viewed those in full text/audio.

Around ninety minutes later, she put the PADD down. The news was reassuring, but she needed to confirm a few of the stories with Christopher and a few of her other contacts on Earth. She had a real home now on Hamlan. She owed a huge debt to the surviving Vulcans and was determined to act as needed to protect the colony.

There were moments when she wondered what would have happened if she had approached the Vulcans from the start, when she had first been dropped into this unfamiliar future. She probably would have been invited to study on the old home world. Could she have done something to prevent the planet's destruction? Or at least delayed it long enough for more to be evacuated? No, she most likely would have died like most of the Vulcan race.

She dashed away the tears and tried to redirect her thoughts to all that she had learnt of Vuhlkansu since Sarek had offered her a new home. It was not all pure science and logic; there was a great deal of mysticism in the past and present culture. She shuddered slightly, remembering her instructions from the reldai about katras. If any wizarding Dark Lord had discovered the secrets of fal-tor-pan, of refusion, it would have been disastrous! They could have created a clone, force-grown a new body using aging-potions, and moved their spirit into it. But then again, perhaps some dark wizard had tried, failed, and died.

She sipped her juice, trying to not think of the magical world. It was gone, forever beyond her reach. Hermione knew she would drive herself insane clinging to a futile hope. So instead, she thought of the friends she had made in the new world in which she had found herself.

James Kirk, who had finally found a place that allowed him to grow and thrive into the man she knew he could be. She had first met him running away after his return from Tarsus IV, mentally scarred and nearly broken. Her gut instinct had been to contact the local authorities, but the feral look in his eyes had reminded her of Harry: starved, abused, fearful, broken, betrayed. Unable to do what everyone else had done to him, she took him with her. They had spent five months travelling together before the LEOs spotted him and forced him to go back to Iowa. Hermione had tried to stay in contact, but Winona Kirk had threatened to charge her for statutory rape, even though her relationship with James had been anything but sexual. They were simply two wounded souls clinging to each other for comfort.

Unable to tolerate staying on Earth without contacting the teen, Hermione had boarded the first transport she could afford to a non-Federation human world. It was there that she first met Christopher Pike, a senior officer on his third mission out. His ship had been sent to help when a local virus had mutated into something more dangerous. He had rescued her from the lynch mob of locals who had accused her of sabotage because the low-income settlers who had gone to her had had a better survival rate than the wealthy who had gone to the expensive hospitals. It was then that she decided to be even more selective in whom she treated.

Christopher and James had led her to Spock, who had introduced her to Sarek. Sarek, who had given her what she needed in a new home: privacy, acceptance, and safety. Oh, it was not perfect; there were still a few Vulcan bigots who looked down on non-Vulcans, but they would never harass her or attack her physically. It was not logical. They were easily avoidable and ignorable. She had more than proven her worth as a healer and researcher since she joined the colony. That had put her in the peculiar, unfamiliar position of being sought after. As a spouse.

A slight frown creased her brow as she refilled her cup and sipped the green liquid. There were many courting her, some in the formal Vulcan manner, others in the more subtle human way. She had politely declined all of them, saying she was not considering any offers at the time. But now she was at a crossroads. They knew some of what she was capable of and wanted her, to add her power to future generations. But Hermione was wary. Bonding for power or prestige alone was not wise. Vulcan spouses were bonded mentally, and Hermione had no idea if her magic and psyche could integrate into such a bond.

It would be easier if she trusted the person she was marrying. And loved. Hermione was a witch and human and not willing to give up her emotions. She could accept the Vulcan way of public stoicism and emotional control, but she was not willing to marry without love or, at very least, caring. Hermione knew she would be under more pressure to make a choice, but if she had to choose, she would prefer one who had proven he could love and care for a human: Sarek, Selek, or Spock.

That same evening after dinner, she put the question to Selek.

~o~

"Selek, would you be willing to marry me?"

The elderly Vulcan put down his cup of spiced tea and folded his hands in his lap.

"May I ask what has brought this unexpected question on?"

Hermione fidgeted with the hem of her tunic before looking up.

"Sapek asked me to marry him yesterday."

"Hmm."

"And Stovik the week before."

"Go on."

Unable to still herself, she jumped up from her seat and began pacing around the room.

"About ten weeks ago, I noticed a slight change in the behaviour of a few males I am acquainted with. The first proposal was from my colleague, Venhr, around six weeks ago. The next was from Varen. So far, seven Vulcans have proposed to me. Somehow I don't think it is going to stop."

Selek blinked. "You have several young, vigorous suitors, and yet you have chosen to propose to this old Vulcan instead of picking one of them?" he ended on a humorous note.

Hermione stopped and turned to look straight at the elderly Vulcan. "I don't want to marry a Vulcan who refuses to love a human."

Selek went very still. "Hermione…"

"From what I've managed to determine, only you, Sarek, and Spock have admitted to caring for human women. Sarek married one and is still grieving Amanda's death, Spock was devastated when he lost his mother, and you clearly aren't afraid of hiding that you care."

"Hermione-kam..." Selek patted the cushion next to him. "Sit next to me."

He watched as she obeyed, twisting her fingers together in her lap.

"Look at me," he ordered softly. Gold-flecked brown eyes met his obediently. Selek was reminded of Jim, his Jim. "I am too old for you Hermione-kam." He raised his hand to cut off her protest. "I am old and tired. You have a long life ahead of you. Humans easily live into their hundreds with modern medicine. With magic, you are likely to live past one hundred fifty. You are my daughter, my granddaughter, not a potential mate." She nodded once, accepting his words. Satisfied, Selek continued, "And you are correct. Sarek is grieving. Amanda's death was premature and completely unexpected. It will be several months before his psyche has recovered from the trauma of the broken bond." She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Sarek's condition was unarguable to a healer, especially one as sensitive as Hermione. "Spock… Spock is hurting, but he is the one most ready to accept love and a bondmate." Seeing the questions in her eyes, he continued, "I am not certain how much you know of Spock."

She blushed slightly. "I do correspond with him, mainly on scientific matters, but most of what I know is from James or public databases." She hesitated before quickly adding, "Spock confuses me. When we first met, I thought he was interested, but I must have guessed wrong because he's never indicated differently in our correspondence."

Selek considered her words before speaking slowly. "Spock was an instructor when he met Nyota Uhura. She was a cadet at the time, but they formed a friendship, nothing romantic, as it would have been improper."

Hermione snorted softly. "I don't know, Selek. According to Jim, Nyota Uhura spends a great deal of time with Spock. He's probably interested in her now that she isn't his student."

"Perhaps at one time, but no longer."

Hermione sat up straight. "You know something!" she accused the elderly Vulcan.

Selek smirked. "I know a lot of things. What would you like to know?"

"Is Spock interested in someone?"

"Yes."

"Who?" Selek stared at Hermione. "Me?" Her voice was incredulous. "But he can do so much better than me," she murmured, old self-conscious fears coming to the fore.

Selek snorted softly. "Hermione-kam, you have several Vulcan suitors seeking your favour. Humans might look for attractiveness in a mate, but Vulcans seek mental compatibility."

Hermione pounced on the minor diversion. "That's another thing. All those Vulcans asking to marry me, how do they know we'd be compatible in the first place?"

"They don't. If you consent, the next step would be to meld to confirm compatibility and to set up a betrothal bond."

Hermione fidgeted. "I don't want to marry them," she confessed. "I don't love them."

"Love can grow out of trust, respect, and caring."

"The only thing I feel for them is respect."

"And what about Spock?"

Hermione hesitated. She stared at her knees before looking up. "I respect and trust him," she admitted. "I don't know if I care for him." Selek raised an eyebrow and gave her a sceptical look. "Oh, alright, I care for him! I hate it when James tells me Spock was hurt and doesn't give any details."

"So, would you be interested in finding out if you are compatible with Spock?" Hermione was silent while she considered the question. Selek did not wait for an answer but continued speaking. "Spock is hurting, as are all Vulcans. He is still struggling to move past Amanda's death. It will not be easy, being his bondmate. He is damaged."

Hermione snorted softly. "We are all damaged, Selek; some more than others." Her expression was pensive as she remembered her experience in the war and the aftermath. "I have lots of experience with damaged souls. I don't expect perfect control as long as he doesn't expect it of me."

Selek inclined his head. "Then clearly indicate your interest to Spock. When I was younger, I was rather oblivious to feminine interests. I was always more interested in science and my research. I do not expect Spock to be much different."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Perhaps I will."

~o~

That evening she sat down in her bed with her PADD, trying to decide the best way to introduce the subject.

After starting and deleting several messages, she finally decided to wing it.

To: Commander Spock, XO & CSO, U.S.S. Enterprise, Star Fleet, U.F.P.

From: Hermione Evans, Healers Guild, New Shi'Khar, Hamlan, U.F.P.

Spock,

I hope you are in good health. I apologize in advance for the sensitive topic and the personal nature of this message, but I am following the advice of a Vulcan I consider a friend. I believe you know him as Selek.

In the aftermath of Vulcan's destruction, Vulcans have been traumatized by violently severed bonds. During the last few months, many unbonded Vulcans have been pairing up in anticipation of the Fires, and this has highlighted a disturbing fact about the surviving Vulcan population: there is a shortage of Vulcan females. A significant percentage of the females who survived the destruction are either bonded or too young. There have been efforts to encourage matches with other Vulcanoid races, such as the Rigellans. In the past few weeks, several of my male colleagues have indicated their interest in having a more personal relationship with me. It appears that they consider a human Healer and psi-talent an acceptable mate, given the current gender imbalance in the Vulcan race.

I do not wish to be an acceptable mate. Call it human emotionalism, but then again, I am human. I want to be loved and cherished. I will settle for trust, respect, care, and someone who will accept me, human emotions and all. Very few Vulcans fall into that category, though I would prefer a Vulcan mate, since I like living in New Shi'Khar. I like Healing and exercising some of my other, lesser-known skills.

Selek is the one who pointed you out as a potential bondmate, one who would not scorn me for my emotionalism. He asked if I was interested, and I thought long and hard about it before deciding I was. He then said I should contact you directly.

If you are already in a committed relationship or not interested, please reply indicating so. If you are uncomfortable and wish to end our correspondence, I will understand. I will not take any offence since I am not in love with you, only seeking a compatible partner.

If you are interested in exploring the potential of a relationship with me, then please say so. I do not expect our potential courtship to be quick or trouble-free, given your posting on the Enterprise and my work on Hamlan, but I am willing to try, if you could consider me as more than a friend, as a bondmate.

Awaiting your response,

Hermione

~o~

Several hours later, Commander Spock returned to his quarters after a double shift on the bridge and in the science labs. After a sonic shower, he dressed in his meditation robes and checked his personal terminal for any messages and notifications before his usual evening meditation session.

There was one personal message that caught his attention. From Hermione Evans. He opened it and quickly scanned the electronic text-only correspondence. His mind hit on several key points.

She was being courted by other males.

She was not interested in them.

Selek had pointed Spock out as an alternative who would not ridicule her for her emotions.

She was interested in him.

Something tight inside him unclenched. His counterpart had done as he had promised in his last communiqué.

Spock picked up a stylus to draft out a response. His meditation session could be deferred. This was more important.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Doctor Leonard McCoy, like most of the Enterprise crew, was looking forward to the highly anticipated downtime on Earth. The Enterprise was due for an upgrade scheduled to take two months, and McCoy had already made plans for his time off. After one week in San Fran doing paperwork, the usual debriefings and meetings, and going over the list of expected upgrades in Medical, Leonard McCoy was going to Georgia.

"Hey Bones, got any plans?"

McCoy smirked. "What do you think, Jim?" he drawled sarcastically.

Jim Kirk made a face. "You're going to Georgia."

McCoy nodded. "Georgia to see Joanna. If you want to hear something different, ask the hobgoblin." The doctor jerked his chin at Spock, sitting across from them in the mess hall.

Spock pointedly refused to respond, seemingly riveted by his Greek salad.

Jim ignored the tension and turned to his First Officer. "So, Spock, any plans for your downtime?"

The Vulcan reluctantly looked up and answered, "I plan on spending my leave on Hamlan."

Kirk blinked. "Interesting. I'm going to Hamlan myself."

McCoy goggled. "You are? Why on earth do you want to go to that dust bowl? You'll shrivel up and die of heat stroke!"

Jim turned to his CMO and blinked innocently. "I'm visiting an old friend."

McCoy's expression turned suspicious. "Which old friend?"

"Mia."

The doctor relaxed, then stiffened after processing the response. "Wait a second, she's living in the new colony?"

"Uh-huh."

"What's she doing there? I thought surface access was being limited to preserve Vulcan culture and traditions."

Jim shrugged. "She has Vulcan citizenship, and she's a certified practicing Healer in New Shi'Khar."

McCoy grumbled almost inaudibly under his breath, something about voodoo witch doctors that Jim pointedly ignored. He did not want to pick a fight with Bones about Mia's talents and medical expertise. So, he looked at the other occupant of the table and was struck by Spock's expression, or, to be more accurate, his careful non-expression.

"Spock, do you know anything about Mia?"

"Please specify what you wish to know, Captain. I have corresponded quite extensively with her over the past two years on a variety of topics."

Jim eyed his First Officer. Mia had never mentioned anything about an extensive correspondence with Spock; just that she had kept in touch with him.

"Curious. She hasn't said anything about you to me."

Now Jim knew something was going on. Spock just smirked at him. Sure, it was a rather brief smirk before his face returned to its usual bland mask, but Jim knew smirks and that was a smirk!

"You're hiding something from me, Spock…"

The Vulcan simply raised a brow. "I am hiding a great deal from you, Captain. Please specify what exactly you believe I am hiding."

Jim slammed his hand down. "That's it! What's going on between you and Mia?"

Spock stared at him before answering, "We are…friends."

Blue eyes narrowed. "Friends, huh?" Spock did not respond. Jim thought hard. Something was up with Mia. Her communiqués had become more tailored the last few months, almost as though she were hiding something. It was why he was going to Hamlan to see her instead of staying on Earth. Maybe Spock knew what was going on with her. "She's been rather tight-lipped in her messages. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was seeing someone."

Spock blinked. "It is possible, Captain. There are many unattached males on Hamlan." But she is interested in me, not them, he added silently to himself.

Jim considered the idea and shook his head. "She did mention being asked out, but she declined because she wasn't interested."

McCoy snorted softly. "Jimmy-boy, it's every woman's prerogative to change her mind if she feels like it. She probably doesn't want you to get on her case about her boyfriend."

Jim made a face. "She's like my sister. If she has a boyfriend, I need to know so that I can threaten him!"

Spock quickly rose, picking up his tray and stepped over to the recycler. The Captain was very intuitive for a human. He did not want to reveal that he was said boyfriend.

Jim watched his First Officer leave without a word and wondered when Spock would really open up to him. Sure, he had relaxed quite a bit since the start of the mission, but it was nowhere close to the legendary friendship Selek had alluded to. Selek! Selek could help. He would know or could find out what was going on. Jim made a mental note to contact the elderly Vulcan and ask him what was up with Mia.

~o~

Unfortunately, Selek turned out to be rather slippery and adept at deflecting Jim's queries.

The elderly Vulcan smiled slightly and pointedly refused to answer any questions about Mia's love life, citing the Rules of Privacy.

Jim snorted. "So, what can you tell me?"

"Nothing about Hermione's personal relationships. However, we are scheduled to arrive on Earth three days before the Enterprise is due."

Jim grinned. "That's great, Selek! Any particular reason why both of you are going to Earth?"

"I am required to make a presentation to the Admiralty. Hermione asked to join me; she will be finalizing some orders and deliveries that cannot be done electronically."

Jim nodded. "Probably some of her less orthodox contacts," he murmured.

Selek did not say anything because he suspected (and Jim knew) that Hermione's less orthodox contacts were heavily involved in smuggling and other illegal activities.

Jim smiled, a smaller, warmer expression. "Hope the admirals don't make your life difficult. Just remind Mia to keep a few evenings and days free so that all of us can hang out."

Selek responded with a similar expression. "I will." He raised his hand, fingers spread into the ta'al. "Live long and prosper."

Jim nodded. "You too, old friend. See you on Earth."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

McCoy glared at the lean figure sitting two chairs away from him. Sure, Jim was providing a buffer space, but there was something about the Vulcan-Human hybrid that got McCoy's goat. Unfortunately, Spock was more interested in the contents of his PADD than responding to McCoy's attempts at picking a fight, so the doctor turned to his best friend.

"What's he doing here?"

Jim looked away from the display screen listing arrival and departure times of various public and chartered intercontinental shuttle routes.

"What?"

McCoy scowled and repeated his question. "What's the hobgoblin doing here?"

Jim frowned faintly. He did not like it when people close to him did not get along.

"Spock? He's waiting for the ambassador."

McCoy blinked. "Ambassador Sarek? Why on earth would he be on a public shuttle? Besides, didn't you tell me we're meeting that witch friend of yours?"

Now it was Jim's turn to scowl. "Bones! I told you not to call her that! Call her Miss Evans if you can't bring yourself to call her Healer Evans. And it's Ambassador Selek, not Sarek."

McCoy frowned faintly and nodded. Satisfied, Jim turned to his First Officer.

"You never told me why you agreed to join me," he noted thoughtfully. "You usually avoid Selek like the plague."

Spock blinked. "I do not avoid him like the plague," he protested mildly.

Jim waved his hand. "Sure, you do. You correspond with him but always through delayed messages, never live or in person. You avoided him whenever he was onboard." He leaned back, eyeing the other male shrewdly. "In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were here to meet Mia." Spock did not say anything. Blue eyes widened in dawning comprehension. "I'm right, aren't I?" It was more of a statement than a question. "You're waiting for Mia." Jim noted the careful way Spock avoided meeting his eyes. "You like her!"

McCoy blinked, confused by this unexpected change in topic. "Don't be silly, Jim! Spock has ice water in his veins. There's no way he'd be interested in a self-proclaimed witch!" he scoffed. And was taken aback by the fierce, angry glare directed his way. By Spock.

"Doctor McCoy, you may be narrow-minded and ignorant of the more subtle, advanced aspects of an evolved mind, but do not presume that I am! The single Adept-class Healer to escape Vulcan's destruction accepted her as a student and certified her as a Master in eight Standard months. The only reason she is a Master and not an Adept is her lack of supervised experience. That will come in time."

Both humans stared at the Vulcan, McCoy shocked and Jim grinning, pleased.

"No denials, huh?" This time Spock met his Captain's eyes directly, calmly. Jim nodded. "I see you haven't said my conclusion is false." McCoy refocused his attention on the younger man. Jim did not break eye contact with Spock. "Bones, you know everyone says Vulcans can't lie. Strictly speaking, it's not true; Vulcans can evade, imply, misdirect, and lie by omission. But they cannot, will not speak a lie." He tilted his head to one side. "Mr Spock, I believe you are interested in Mia, on a personal, more than platonic level."

Spock inclined his head, acknowledging the hit, but not saying anything.

Jim huffed. "Just don't hurt her, Spock."

"That is not my intention."

"Good."

McCoy looked at the two men, first at Jim, then at Spock, then at Jim again.

"Wait a second, you mean the theoretical boyfriend you were going on about is Spock?"

"Yes."

"And that's it? What happened to your plans to beat up the boyfriend?"

Jim's expression turned amused. "Bones, Spock nearly strangled me once. I don't see how I can beat him up without getting put into traction!" Then he smirked. "I'll just get Pike to threaten him." McCoy groaned. Jim turned serious. "Besides, I don't think I have to worry too much if Spock is Mia's boyfriend."

That comment confused the doctor. "Why?"

Jim's response was succinct. "Vulcans don't cheat on or lie to their partners. Nor do they have casual relationships." He turned to Spock. "In fact, I have a feeling this relationship is more serious than a long-distance one."

Spock inclined his head. "You are correct, Captain."

Jim sighed, exasperated. "Call me Jim," he corrected firmly. "If you marry Mia, I'm going to be the closest thing you have to a brother-in-law."

The Vulcan's lips quirked into a faint smile. "As you wish. James."

Jim huffed. "Jim."

"James."

"It's Jim. Jim, not James."

"James," Spock countered blandly.

The younger male glared, but the Vulcan was not put off.

Jim sighed and gave in. Spock could be more stubborn than a mule, and Jim had learnt to pick and choose his battles. This one was not worth the effort required.

"Oh, alright! You can call me James. Like Mia."

Leonard McCoy was not an easy man to shock, but this was too much to handle! The Enterprise had been to Hamlan only twice since the mission began. As far as he could determine, Jim had introduced Mia Evans to him and Spock around the same time, when they were on Earth after the Narada's destruction. There was no way Spock could or would have hooked up with her in the aftermath! Long-distance relationships happened after a couple got together, not before!

He shook his head. "I don't get it, Spock, you do some mind voodoo and that healing trance thing, but why are you interested in her? A human who openly says she's a witch? It doesn't seem very logical or scientific."

Something feral flashed in Spock's dark brown eyes. McCoy was instantly reminded of what happened the last time Spock lost all control; he nearly strangled Jim before marooning the then-cadet on Delta Vega. His words reaffirmed McCoy's fears.

"Doctor McCoy, logic and control is restraint for Vulcan emotions that are more volatile and intense than those experienced by humans. Science is what we use to measure and describe the universe around us, but we do not deny that there are things that cannot currently be completely explained or predicted by science, things that have to do with the mind and the katra. We are a telepathic race and are very familiar with various psi and esper talents. It is not something to be feared or rejected. Several centuries ago, any human with such talents would be called a witch or some variation of magic-user. Even you, a scientifically trained doctor, call healing trances and mind melds 'voodoo.' Hermione Evans is simply using a term with which she is familiar."

McCoy retreated, falling into a pensive silence at the blunt response. Jim, too, did not speak, unwilling to choose a side. Spock re-directed his attention to his PADD. Some time later Spock looked up.

"The shuttle from Paris is due to land in six point four minutes."

Jim looked up at the display screen. Spock was right, as usual. The three men moved to the correct arrival bay waiting room and chose to stand within sight of Gateway 215.

The young captain forced himself to stand slightly angled to get a better view of Spock, not the arrival archway. Sure, he wanted to see Mia again, but he wanted to see Spock's reaction to her even more. So, he did not turn away when the computer announced the Paris shuttle's arrival and disembarking. He watched as Spock put away his PADD and began looking for a particular someone in the crowd leaving the shuttle.

Then he saw it. Something warm in the usually cool, distant dark brown eyes. The half-step forward, caught and subdued. The almost unnoticeable clenching and unclenching of fists resting alongside long legs clad in wide-legged charcoal grey trousers, topped by a matching tailored, mid-thigh-length jacket. Like Jim and Bones, Spock had chosen to wear civilian clothes instead of his Starfleet uniform. A sure sign, given Spock's preference for wearing the regulation uniform, even when off-duty.

"James!"

As much as he wanted to see Spock's reaction, Jim couldn't stop his instinctive reflex to turn towards the familiar, beloved voice.

McCoy couldn't help but smile, seeing the bright, blindingly eager smile on his best friend's face.

"Mia!"

The Georgian-born and bred doctor turned to see what his friend was seeing.

Standing a few steps into the waiting room from Gateway 215 was a familiar elderly Vulcan dressed in heavy reddish-brown formal robes. At his side was a shorter curvy female figure dressed in similar formal robes dyed forest green. McCoy couldn't see the colour of her hair or her ears, as both were hidden beneath the dove grey scarf wrapped around her head.

Jim took five steps forward to meet the shorter female running towards him, catching her up in a tight embrace, her hands pressed against the young man's back to draw him close. She was murmuring something soft, almost inaudible, in some foreign tongue that Jim understood because he responded in the same language. Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back, gripping the underside of her forearms, a grip she mimicked on Jim.

The translucent scarf wrapped around Hermione Evans' head covered her hair and ears and framed her creamy oval face. The high, smooth brow was adorned with a silver diadem studded with crystals and other semi-precious clear, black, and purple stones.

She smiled up at Jim, an expression that made her ordinary face eye-catching, and patted his cheek with her white-gloved hand.

"You have lost weight and look weary, James. You will rest, and when you are ready, I will listen."

He gripped both her hands in his and raised them to his forehead, a ritualistic gesture.

"I do not wish to burden you," he murmured with an oddly vulnerable look in his eye.

"I would not have offered to listen if I did not mean it," she countered gently but firmly. "But first, you must rest and meditate. Have you kept up with your forms?"

Jim nodded. "Yes. I try to practice at least once a week."

She nodded firmly. "Good. I will observe and correct any bad habits you might have picked up before teaching you any new forms." She glanced over her shoulder at her elderly companion, who had made his way towards them. "Selek has agreed to put you up during your leave."

Jim blinked. "Won't that be a little crowded, Mia?" he inquired dubiously. "I've lived in pre-fab units before, and they are rather constricted."

Hermione smirked. "I made some adjustments to the interior space."

Blue eyes widened in shock. "You didn't!" he hissed softly, torn between awe and fear.

She tossed her head back and lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "I did."

Jim turned to look at Selek with a pleading expression. "Tell me she didn't!"

Selek's expression did not change, though his eyes warmed. "She was…discreet. And her adjustments were most welcome. New couples and families have higher priority for newly built private housing."

McCoy was confused, and he wanted to know what kind of adjustments they were talking about. Before he could speak, she turned towards Spock with a more composed expression before speaking in Vulcan.

McCoy cursed, wishing he had a Universal Translator unit on hand.

~o~

Hermione turned away from James, her attention automatically drawn to the quiet, still figure standing a few feet away. Hesitantly, her eyes lifted to meet dark brown eyes, and she was shocked by the strong response he invoked in her. She moved to stand before him, raising both hands, gloved palms up.

"I greet thee, Spahk cha'Sarek."

He inclined his head gravely before responding in the same archaic dialect. "And I thee, Hermione cha'Daniel."

Slowly, he raised his hands and placed them palm down over hers. His much larger appendages completely covered hers. She could feel the warmth of him through the thin silk of her gloves. Then his fingertips brushed over her inner wrists, touching bare skin where her gloves ended.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she gasped softly, feeling him inside her mind, lingering over some thoughts, moving quickly over others. He was seeking her current impressions and thoughts, not her memories. Deftly she directed him towards what he was seeking. His mind touch was deft and gentle, inquiring, not invasive. She felt no distaste towards her physical and emotional reactions and thoughts. A welcome change from telepathic experiences she'd had before she started wearing close-fitting jumpsuits and silk gloves to avoid skin-on-skin contact.

She opened her eyes and peeked up through thick lashes. He was not visibly smiling, but she could feel it inside her. His curiosity and interest and hope, tinged with worry and fear. She felt the urge to reassure him that she was not stringing him along with false hope to publicly humiliate him. Selek had told her of T'Pring, and if the bitch had survived the destruction, Hermione would have given her the same treatment she'd given Umbridge.

She moved her hands away from his without looking away. Keeping eye-contact, she stripped off her gloves and stuffed them inside her sleeves before reaching out for his hands. Without giving him the chance to protest, she touched his fingertips with hers, deliberately lowering her barriers, allowing him to feel her joy, eagerness, impatience, all laced with her own fears and self-doubt.

For a moment she feared he was going to pull away, but then his fingers shifted, lacing with hers. Experimentally, she reached out, trying to get a sense of his feelings. Concern, wariness, anticipation, curiosity, and underneath all that, the undeniable yearning for something more, an anchor, a support, a stabilizer, understanding. Hermione smiled. She could give him that.

Her fingers tightened around his as she focused on that thought and spoke out loud.

"If thee art willing, I shall be all that and more."

Brown eyes widened slightly in shock. Hermione smiled faintly. "My people are not mind-blind as most humans. It will have an effect on any bond we choose to make."

He inclined his head. "I look forward to finding out."

Reluctantly she disengaged her fingers from his and tucked her hands into her sleeves as she stepped back and composed her expression into something distant and cool.

"Doctor McCoy. I cannot say it is a pleasure to see you again."

She ignored his grumbles, turning to the old Vulcan standing behind her. "Would thou object?"

Selek looked visibly amused as he responded in Standard, "No. I am sure James can keep this old Vulcan company."

She steeled herself and turned towards Jim. The tight knot in her loosened once she saw his expression: pensive, bittersweet, accepting.

"I did not start out intending this," she whispered.

He stepped forward and hugged her. "I didn't think so." He stepped back and looked her in the eye. "Few people do."

"Does this bother you?"

Jim made a face. "I'm your brother, Mia. Of course it bothers me! But when I think of all the dicks out there you could have hooked up with…Spock is a prince." He turned to catch Spock's eye with a serious expression. "I'm not going to ask because I know Vulcans don't play around. Just…just…." He heaved a deep breath. "Just be careful with her. Emotionally, I mean."

Spock bowed his head. "I will."

Jim nodded firmly. "Good." He glanced around. "Do you have any plans? I'm getting this feeling Mia's on Earth to see you, not me."

Hermione huffed and punched the blond man in the bicep.

"Oww." He winced theatrically. "Was I wrong?"

She shook her head.

"So there." He looked at Spock. "Why don't the two of you catch up? Selek can get me and Bones up to speed on what's been happening."

Hermione beamed and stepped away, reaching out to grab Spock's covered forearm.

"Great! We'll catch up with you guys at the hotel for dinner. If you want to eat out, feel free to make reservations at any place with a good vegetarian menu!" She looked up at the tall Vulcan standing next to her. "Come. I did some research and made a list of places to visit." And then she began walking, forcing the Vulcan she was holding onto to follow or be dragged along.

Jim resisted the urge to sigh as he watched them leave. He saw her grip on Spock's forearm slide down towards his wrist until her fingers laced with his, her palm pressed against his.

"Why do I have the urge to look away, Selek?"

The elderly Vulcan moved to stand beside him, also watching the couple walk away.

"Because you have good instincts, James."

"They're doing the Vulcan equivalent of making out, aren't they?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes. Hand holding is the Vulcan equivalent of kissing." Selek cocked his head. "In fact, their current actions are the equivalent of light pornography on Vulcan."

Jim nearly choked. McCoy did choke and cough and sputter, trying to clear his airways.

For a brief instant, Selek was concerned he would have to restrain his young friend from chasing down his First Officer and beating him up for making out with his heart-sister.

Then, Jim shook his head like a wet dog and laughed. "Oh, hell! It isn't like I haven't done it myself!" He grinned at the ambassador. "Why don't you get me caught up with what's been happening on Hamlan? The unofficial side of things."

Selek inclined his head. "That is agreeable. In exchange, I wish to hear the unofficial side of your missions."

Jim nodded. "You're on." He reached out to grab McCoy's sleeve. "Come on, Bones. You look like you could use a drink."

McCoy snorted. "Hell, I need more than a drink, I need the whole bottle!" He looked over his shoulder at the disappearing couple, and a sly smile curved his lips. "Hey, Selek, do you think Spock will be putting in the request for shared quarters anytime soon?"

"Bones!"

"Just asking, Jim."

"I do not believe so, Leonard. Hermione is very engrossed in her current pharmaceutical research on Hamlan. Perhaps in a few years, Fires permitting."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

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Q's Gift 3/5 (Hermione/nu!Spock ~ PG13)

2011-11-08T04:37:09Z

Summary: Spock gets some advice, Sarek's suspicions are confirmed, T'Pau makes plans, and Spock Prime gets surprised.

AN: Near the end of Reboot the Movie. Between the Narada's destruction and Kirk gaining Captaincy of the Enterprise.

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

~ooO Rituals and Healings Ooo~

Spock knelt on the bamboo mat, his attention set on calming the turmoil of his thoughts and stray emotions. As the tension faded, he considered the events of the day.

The first meeting had been a shock. The Gryffindor Princess was everything that had been implied and much more. Q had stated that she had abilities, but T'Pau and Sarek and Spock had not even considered the depth and range of her talents.

She was a True Healer. He had observed proof of it with his own senses. Growing tired of Doctor McCoy's snide comments, Jim Kirk had insisted his friend scan him. The results were astonishing. There was no visible trace of any injury. The only proof was months-old, completely-healed wounds. Kirk had been injured on Delta Vega and suffered some complications due to infection in the slash wounds. McCoy had not been able to heal them using the usual dermal regenerator therapy. Kirk stripped his shirt off to reveal bare skin marked by faint white scars and no trace of bandages or nuskin coverings. Spock had read the reports himself. McCoy had estimated it would take three months for Kirk's wounds to heal cleanly.

She had presence and influence. From Kirk's comments, it was how she operated, forming a network of contacts and allies, owing and being owed favours by offering her services as an unlicensed Healer, therapist and advisor to individuals and families from all social strata and walks of life. If Sarek would not assist in procuring the rarer components, Kirk confided that she could do it herself. It would take longer and use some of her favours, but she could do it.

Spock had not spent a great deal of time in her presence, just seventeen point four minutes in the morning and one point two five hours in the evening, but it did not make a difference regarding her influence. Spock had no disbelief regarding Kirk's claims, his decision to stay with her as a teen and to follow her upon reaching legal maturity. She exuded an aura of tranquility, stability and hope. And she did not restrict it to a select few. It took point four three hours, but she eventually relaxed enough to generate the atmosphere; one strong enough to have an effect on Spock, a hybrid raised to follow Vulcan Disciplines.

A subtle ripple attracted his attention. He allowed his hands to fall from the meditation pose and opened his eyes. She was kneeling before him on the carpeted floor, sitting back on her heels, hands resting on her thighs, her visage calm and knowing.

The instinct to lean forward and reach out to touch her, to meld with her, stake a claim and bind her to him, was all-encompassing. Spock barely managed to stop himself from reaching out and touching her. The uncharacteristic impulse was not diminishing with familiarity, only increasing in intensity.

"How may I assist you?"

She frowned slightly. "Is that the only reason why you believe I am here?"

Spock considered her question. "No. But you are not inconsiderate enough to interrupt a meditation session without good reason."

She inclined her head. "You are correct, Commander."

"Spock." Her eyes widened slightly. "You are not in Starfleet and, therefore, are not required to observe formalities such as rank."

"Very well. Spock." She paused to gather her thoughts before continuing. "I did some additional research on the best way to treat Chris."

"You did mention it would be different from your usual methods," Spock noted.

She nodded. "Yes." She held up her hands, palms up. "Most of the time I heal using what old faith-healers would call laying-of-hands. I touch someone and send my energy into them. It is more potent than the patient's natural energy, so I can 'channel' it into specific actions."

Spock nodded. "That is similar to the practices of Vulcan Healers. Have you tried healing non-Terrans?"

She blinked, taken aback. "Yes. But only uncomplicated physical trauma. I assure you, I did study a great deal of xenobiology and medical literature before attempting it."

"A reasonable course of action." Spock paused. "You were discussing your healing methods?"

She nodded. "Yes. Well Chris is too badly injured for a laying-of-hands to work. I need to perform a ritual to boost the effects." She held out a PADD. "Here are the details of what is required, before, during and after."

Spock quickly scanned the open file. The design of the structures and layout. The steps to prepare the grounds and tools. A brief overview of the ceremony itself. The possible effects (exhaustion, hunger, collapse). The input required from external associates (energy via an unspecified biofeedback technique). It was simple and unexpectedly elegant, yet elaborate. She was not requiring anything other than presence and support. A subsection provided the details of the best date-times and locations.

"You have listed the Vulcan Embassy as a suitable location for the ritual. Access can be arranged given twenty-four hours notice."

"You can arrange that?"

"Yes. Sarek is Vulcan's Ambassador Plenipotentiary to the Federation. He is also my father." Spock tapped the PADD to review some of the details. "You have specified the need for additional individuals to add to the outer circle. Would you consent for others, Vulcans, to witness? They would be honoured to participate in and witness a Healing."

She stared at him, shocked. "I don't mind." She spoke hesitantly before gaining confidence. "But please explain your request. I thought Vulcans were all logical and scientific. Why do you so readily believe that I—a human—have the same abilities as a Vulcan Healer? With no evidence or demonstration? I mean, everyone knows most humans are psi-nulls. And why would your people be interested in my talents? You have your own Healers."

Brown eyes met brown. His voice was grave, with no trace of hesitation, as he explained.

"What do you know of Vulcan psi-abilities?"

She frowned faintly. "You're touch telepaths and really big about privacy, and skin-on-skin contact is a bit no-no. There are, were, temples and monasteries, but no one has confirmed the true heart of Vulcan spirituality or religion."

Spock inclined his head. "As a race, we moved from emotion and religion towards logic and science. But even so, certain traditions and rituals persist to this day." He shifted his legs into a crossed pose. "Vulcans do not consider death to be the end of existence. Our souls, our katras, are carried by another when we die. After the mourning rituals have been performed, the katra is stored in a special container called a Katric Ark." He hesitated. "With Vulcan destroyed, most of the Arks and all the katras contained therein were lost. I have not heard of any plans to replace the Arks. I am uncertain if there will be alterations in the death rituals in the near future."

Evans stared at him, curious. "Is there a purpose for containing the katras?"

He inclined his head. "Yes. Descendants, scholars, elders, scientists… anyone with a purpose can request to commune with ancestral katras, to gain a perspective or alternate view of a difficult situation, to come to a logical and practical solution." He considered the best way to explain. "All Vulcans have the ability to self-trance, to put themselves into a specific metabolic and mental state to heal their injuries, mental and physical. There are cases where bondmates are able to share their resources so that a severely injured partner survives."

Brown eyes were very wide and intent. She made an odd gesture before indicating that he should continue.

"My people value privacy, and most actions that violate that privacy are considered taboo. Healing is one of the exceptions. Healers form a shallow mind-meld with the patient and encourage the body to heal using their personal resources, usually when injuries have caused psychological blocks or a self-trance has failed. As in any profession, there are a few who are more skilled and capable than the rest. These healers are ranked as Adepts; below them are Masters, Practitioners, and Students. Adepts can heal injuries that modern medicine would consider untreatable, much like Captain Pike's condition." He paused to make sure she comprehended the information. She did. "The last living Healing Adept is two hundred eighty-seven Standard years old. Fortunately, she survived the destruction of Vulcan."

Evans inclined her head. "May I know her name?"

Spock hesitated before answering. "It is X'mjn H'twl T'Rin."

Her lips curved, shaping the syllables silently several times before testing her pronunciation out loud. "X'mjn H'twl T'Rin."

"Yes."

She was silent before voicing the question Spock could sense.

"Can Vulcans do other things? Than telepathy and healing, I mean."

Spock inclined his head in affirmative.

"Yes. Truly powerful katras can influence more than their own bodies, more than those in direct physical contact. They can shape the physical world. They can shape the katras of those around them, for good or ill." Spock hesitated before continuing. "In Ancient times, such individuals were highly sought after by warring clans, as mates and allies."

She nodded slowly. "How odd. On Earth, humans feared or hated those who were different, stronger, or more capable."

"On Vulcan, ninety-eight point one two percent of the population were psis of varying strengths. Powerful psis on a planet of psi-nulls would have been an oddity and feared," Spock pointed out mildly.

"You are correct." Her gaze drifted, her expression distant, before refocusing. "And what about in recent history?"

"The ways of ahkhinahr and nashinahr have been mostly lost for centuries. Only traces of foshinahr still remain since Vulcan's destruction. Mostly in the surviving priesthood and Elders who practice the highest degrees of Mind Arts and Healing."

She bowed her head. "I grieve with thee." She held her hands out, palms up. "When I heard of what happened, it was a terrible shock. And then, when I thought about it more clinically, I wondered how this universe has lasted without similar destruction. Then I remembered that war and battle and death are endemic to the mortal condition. There is no such thing as paradise; not when we are alive, and perhaps not after we are dead."

Spock bowed his head and clenched his fists. He would not lose control. He would not shame his clan, his ancestry, his race…

Then he felt a slight pressure against his clothed forearm. And he felt the soothing presence of her infuse him with calm. She projected none of the typical emotional turmoil and thoughts of a psi-null human.

"Spock."

He looked up. Her expression was kind and non-judgemental. A very familiar expression. Something his mother had often displayed during the more trying moments of his youth.

"Would you listen to advice from someone who has only the best of intentions?"

He nodded shallowly.

"Then listen to me, Spock cha'Sarek. You are a child of two races, both Human and Vulcan. Do not diminish yourself by rejecting part of what you are, by only embracing part of your heritage. You must accept that logic is the beginning of wisdom, not the end result. And, as Einstein said, 'Wisdom is not the product of schooling but the life-long attempt to acquire it.'"

Spock pulled back, but her expression remained serene and soothing.

"Do not try to repress and contain your grief and anger. It is impossible and ultimately very dangerous. You are not processing your feelings but denying them. Sooner or later they will build to levels you cannot ignore, and you will lose control." Spock stilled, remembering a moment when just that had happened. On the bridge of the Enterprise. Seeing that her words were sinking in, she continued. "There is an old human saying… 'Sorrow shared is sorrow halved, joy shared is joy doubled.' You have followed the Vulcan way for so long, isn't it time you tried the human way?"

Spock went very still, biting back the reflexive protest that he was Vulcan and would follow Vulcan traditions. He remembered what his father had told him on the Enterprise.

You will always be a child of two worlds. I am grateful for this, and for you … I married her because I loved her.

He was vaguely aware of her rising and moving away. He did not try to engage her in an extended debate. She had left him with much to consider.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Sarek cha'Skon frowned slightly as he listened to the message from his son. Then his eyes widened slightly as he continued reading. He read the attached text file very carefully, making notes, sending off messages to his aides and other parties. Once he was done, he opened the image file attached to his son's message.

It depicted a young human woman, attractive but not classically perfect, with curly, light brown hair and deep brown eyes. She was dressed in a pale blue long-sleeved t-shirt, standing next to a younger Terran with lighter hair, dressed in a grey t-shirt emblazoned with the Starfleet insignia. Sarek's interest was more focused on the female than the male.

She was the very image of a silk-screened painting stored in his private safe in the San Francisco branch of the Vulcan Embassy.

The Gryffindor Princess.

After some thought, he typed another message and attached the files from Spock before sending it off. T'Pau needed to be informed.

Eleven point two seven minutes later, his PADD pinged softly, indicating an incoming message.

It was from T'Pau granting his request to open the Embassy to Jean Evans and her associates. To assist the newfound Healer in any way possible. And to update her once he had the opportunity to speak to her directly.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Sarek watched as Jean Evans guided her colleagues with a firm and precise hand. Everyone had a specific sequence of tasks, a role to play. She allowed Spock to assist her in marking out the circle on the hard compact clay in chalk before going over it with a thick paintbrush and a bowl filled with reddish liquid she had prepared just minutes before; a mixture containing a large amount of her own blood, freshly drawn by Doctor McCoy.

He watched Spock clench his hands reflexively when James Kirk assisted the Healer in stripping off her garments. He watched her stand in only tight grey shorts and a matching sports bra, permitting James Kirk to paint various symbols all over her using a thick, dark fluid with an iridescent undertone. Along her arms, legs, front, and back, on her cheeks and forehead as well. The glyphs were not Vulcan, but Sarek could sense the power, the building energy density. So could Spock, given how carefully he was maintaining his distance from her.

When she finally looked up, even the Terrans could see the power building within her. Her eyes were flickering pools, the irises faded to the palest of browns, so that they were almost gold. She held a hand up and made a gesture. The glyphs painted on that arm exploded with light before fading to reveal the symbols shimmering on her pale skin.

Sarek had watched her prepare the mixture himself, with materials purchased by his son or his aides. There was nothing in them that could create this effect. It was entirely from her.

"James." Her voice was low and hoarse. It was the signal for everyone to move closer, to stand between the two rings drawn on hard red clay using sea salt and charcoal.

Sarek himself moved to his pre-designated position marked out in the circle.

She picked up a prepared bowl of reddish fluid and an unused brush and moved to stand before her primary assistant.

"Do you offer what is yours freely? To heal Christopher Jacob Pike, lifelong friend, valued colleague, or trusted ally as it may be?"

Kirk's response was instantaneous. "Yes."

She painted glyphs on his forehead and cheeks. Once she was satisfied, she took a step back and spoke. "Then it is accepted. Stand and do not falter James Tiberius Kirk."

Kirk staggered slightly but regained his balance. The painted symbols shimmered iridescently on his skin in varying pastel hues with no traces of red.

Then she moved to the next person in the circle and repeated the dialogue. Then the next, and the next, until she had marked all eight individuals standing within the rings.

James Tiberius Kirk.

Simon Edwin Miller.

Phillip Walter Boyce.

Illyria Annette Xanamaha.

S'chn T'gai Spahk of House Surak.

S'chn T'gai Sarek of House Surak.

V'lyn S'rwt Velek of House Surak.

T'mch S'wqn T'Pel of House Surak.

Sarek heard sparks and small explosions and Doctor Leonard McCoy cursing from his position outside the circle. The biosensors Doctor McCoy had insisted all participants wear had just shorted out.

He watched as the Healer ignored the Doctor, completely intent on her patient lying in the center of the circle, his head pointing north and feet south, arms pointing towards east and west. She stood over Captain Pike, straddling his waist, the designs on her skin coruscating fiercely like an almost living thing, a faint golden haze surrounding her.

The soft sub-vocal chanting in some unknown language was audible and very distinct, almost resonant. Then the designs painted on the ground began shimmering, and the crystals glowed, giving off heat and white light. And they were nearly blinded. The humans cried out and nearly fell when their knees buckled. Each and every Vulcan felt a similar rapid drain, though the Vulcans were less badly affected than the humans.

She had initiated a Shared Healing, drawing on resources through temporary bonds formed between them and her. Sarek reached out and tentatively 'touched' the new matrix in his mindscape. He could sense each of the others, some shining more vividly or more intensely than the others. He was pleased to note his son was both. James Kirk was more vivid, but Spock was both vivid and intense. His kinsfolk were quietly intense but not overly vivid. But beyond that, Sarek could sense the enormous will guiding, shaping, holding the matrix together, the power behind the placid façade, the ruthless implacable drive to achieve her goals even if she drained her allies to the dregs. But never demanding more than what she herself gave.

The heat was building. The humans were being negatively affected by now, their lungs drying and straining to compensate. Her voice was harsher, almost guttural, and raspy. Sarek could feel his own control faltering and drew on his reserves.

Just when he thought his control would break, he felt the matrix shatter and release them.

Several of the humans collapsed where they stood. Sarek heard Doctor McCoy curse loudly and colourfully as he hurried over to them. Sarek was more interested in the Healer.

She had fallen on her knees, straddling the unconscious Captain Pike on her hands and knees. A most inappropriate position for an unbonded female. The iridescent glyphs and marks painted on her skin were fading, sublimating into glittering dust floating off her skin, vanishing once they were more than two inches from her. She pushed off one hand, angling so that she fell heavily on the compact clay, bruising one hip and scraping the outside of one thigh. Groaning softly, she levered herself up off the ground on one hand.

She hissed between clenched teeth and ran her free hand over the fresh bleeding scrapes. A soft green glow shone from between her fingers, under her palm, as she ran her hand over her leg. When the light faded there was no trace of the shredded skin or blood. The muscles in her torso and arms quivered just before giving way. She fell back heavily, with just enough control to keep the back of her head from hitting the ground.

"Mia!"

James Kirk dodged the doctor's restraining grip long enough to crawl towards the Healer.

Sarek heard Spock growl, a low feral sound. The distinctly displeased sound of a Vulcan male witnessing a rival approach an unbonded female he desired. The older Vulcan shifted, ready to act in the event Spock lost control.

The Healer sensed it as well, for she was quick to intercede.

"No, James. Let Doctor McCoy check up on you." She caught the attention of the other human woman present. "Lyri, a little help here."

The older woman nodded and staggered forward to assist the Healer. Sarek would have done so himself but was concerned about setting off Spock. He glanced at his kinswoman, T'Pel. She moved forward, stripping off the outer layer of her robes before kneeling next to the Healer.

With the assistance of both women, the Healer was on her feet and covered from neck to feet in the over-sized robe. Then they helped her move outside the circle and sit in one of the folding chairs procured by Spock. The Healer accepted a glass of water from Spock and drank it quickly. Without being asked, Spock refilled it, and this time she drank it more slowly.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Thanks are illogical," Spock responded automatically.

She did not take offence like Doctor McCoy or most humans would have. In fact, she just looked amused, like Amanda had when Sarek had responded similarly.

"They might be illogical to you, but they are an acknowledgment for humans. An indication that the recipient recognizes and appreciates the service provided. You are Vulcan and exceptional. You are certain to receive a lot of compliments in the future. Learn to accept them gracefully. It will reduce awkward moments in the future."

Spock nodded shallowly, absorbing her explanation.

The Vulcans looked thoughtful at her words, placing human social graces into their relevant context.

Sarek was pleased. She was not xenophobic or Terran-centric. She did not take offence but gently provided logical explanations and suggestions.

There was silence as Doctor McCoy finished his examination. He joined the small group with a bemused by pleased expression.

"I can't explain it, but Pike's nerves are regenerating. The worst of the nerve and tissue damage is healed, but he still has a way to go. He will probably have a limp and need a cane, but he will be able to walk without other external aids." He turned to the Healer. "I apologise for the way I treated you."

She waved a hand. "Do not. You were only protecting your patient and friends."

"Yeah, well, if there is anything I can do, just let me know."

She straightened and looked straight at McCoy, her expression focused, eyes penetrating.

"There is something you can do, Doctor."

"What?"

"Don't tell anyone of what you've seen." McCoy opened his mouth to protest, but the Healer continued without giving him a chance. "I mean it, Doctor. Let this be another medical miracle, a misdiagnosis, whatever, but I don't want anyone in the Federation bureaucracy or the medical community to know who healed Chris." Her expression was hard and pointed. "If others find out, I will know who is responsible. Simon, Jim, Lyri and Chris have known for years and have kept their lips zipped. And I'm certain the Vulcans will honour my request for privacy."

"Of course," Sarek murmured agreeably. "It would be illogical to deny your basic rights."

McCoy went red. "But do you know how many people there are with similar injuries? They deserve–"

A sharp crack interrupted McCoy's rant as the Healer slammed her hand against her thigh. "They do not deserve a damn thing." Her expression was very hard and unforgiving. "No one deserves more than the right to shelter, food, safety, standard medical care and a basic education. Everything else is earned and paid for."

McCoy sputtered, but she continued, ignoring his incoherence.

"I am not a doctor. I have made no vows to heal everyone who comes to me requesting my services. I do not heal every single wounded being that crosses my path. If I did, I'd be dead or insane within two years." McCoy went still. "I am not exaggerating, Doctor. Every time I heal, I use my personal energy and resources. It takes me weeks to completely recover from healing because I always accept the impossible cases. My skills are unique, and I am the only supplier since Vulcan Healers rarely left the planet or accepted off-world patients. I pick and choose cases that provide more than monetary benefits."

"Favours." The word was a curse, but the Healer took no offence.

"Yes. My clients are either wealthy or connected. I do not apologize for it. Any truly skilled specialist in the private sector works in the same way." She drew herself together and turned to Kirk. "I would like to go back to Pike's place. I need to eat and rest. Lyri can go with Doctor McCoy and Chris to the hospital for a more thorough examination."

Sarek decided it was an opportune moment to intervene.

"You do not have to leave, Healer." The humans turned towards him with surprised expressions. Sarek focused on the subject of his interest, the Healer. "You can use one of the embassy rooms to rest and recover. The dietician on staff can prepare a suitable meal for you."

She considered the offer and nodded. "Thank you. I believe I will take you up on that."

Slowly she levered herself off the chair, not completely managing to hide the pain the effort caused her. Before the humans could react, his son was beside her, one hand under her forearm, the other around her waist. With a soft sigh, she slumped against him, resting her head against his chest.

"Please forgive any transference," she murmured. "My shields are not at their best."

"Understood," Spock murmured before looking up at Sarek. "Room 15B on the main floor?"

"It is the closest unused room."

Spock nodded and deftly began moving away, holding the Healer close. T'Pel followed the pair to provide her assistance and to chaperone.

Kirk watched the small group move away, frowning slightly. "You have an unused room? I thought the embassy was packed with…" He trailed off, unwilling to say the words refugee or survivor.

"Room 15B is part of my personal suite," Sarek explained calmly. "To be more precise, it is Spock's old room. It is currently being used by T'Pau, who will be in Paris for the next three days. I believe the Healer will be sufficiently recovered to move back to her usual lodgings tomorrow morning."

Kirk blushed. "Oh!" Then he glanced at McCoy. "Bones, why don't you and Number One take Chris to the hospital? I'll pack an overnight bag for Mia and drop it off before joining you."

Sarek inclined his head. "When you return, anyone will be able to direct you to my suite."

"Okay then." Kirk rubbed his hands. "I better get going then."

Sarek watched the humans disperse before giving instructions to remove all traces of the ritual and to pack up and secure all the tools and components in one of the embassy storage rooms. Then he returned to his own private room for a meditation session. He had much to consider.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

When Hermione woke, the first thing she saw was a tray of food. Cream of broccoli soup in an insulated container, cheese, lettuce and tomato sandwiches, and crisp veggies with various dips. She had eaten before sleeping, but her body still needed to replace what she had lost in the ritual. A shower could wait.

After satisfying her hunger, she explored the simple bedroom. Given the contents of the dresser drawers and closet, it belonged to a Vulcan male. She located her personal duffel bag and selected a fresh outfit before hurrying into the refresher. She was glad the embassy had both water and sonic facilities. If there was one thing she hated about the future, it was sonics. Intellectually she knew sonics worked, but they never made her feel 'clean' like water showers.

Thirty minutes later, she emerged from the refresher dressed in a long ankle-length denim skirt, a matching long-sleeved denim shirt embroidered with red and yellow flowers, and slide-on clogs. Her head was wrapped in a towel. Jim had forgotten to pack her hairdryer, and the original occupant had either taken his dryer with him or didn't use one.

She had just finished off the last sandwich and was working on the tray of veggies when the door intercom chimed.

"Come."

The door slid open to reveal Ambassador Sarek.

Hastily she pushed the tray aside, brushing the crumbs off the bed.

"How may I assist you, Ambassador?"

"I wish to discuss a certain matter with you."

Hermione's guard went up. "Could you be more specific?"

Sarek hesitated. That alone made Hermione nervous.

"What do you know of your past? My son and James Kirk implied you are an amnesiac."

That was enough to set off warning klaxons. Hermione hesitated. Sarek was clearly more familiar with human behaviour because he was quick to reassure her.

"If you desire privacy, I will respect your request."

"Can you tell me why you wish to know?" Hermione queried slowly, trying to stall.

He studied her intently before inclining his head. "I can." He produced a chip from a sleeve pocket and inserted it into a holoframe hanging on one wall. The desert skyline image shimmered and went blank as Sarek tapped in new commands.

Hermione froze when she saw the new image projected within the frame. It was a collage. Of her. At Hogwarts, as a student and after the war. At a Ministry Ball. In St Mungo's medical library. In the DMLE practice duelling arena.

"Where did you get this?"

"It is a copy of a painting lost when Vulcan was destroyed. The original was given to my clan matriarch, T'Pau, when she was young and unbonded."

Hermione had to know. "Who gave it to her?"

Sarek stared at her. The witch was tempted to rip the answers she sought from his mind. But she restrained herself and waited. After twenty seconds, Sarek spoke.

"An omnipotent being called Q gave it to T'Pau. He said the Gryffindor Princess would be important to my clan, to Vulcan one day."

Hermione sagged. Her knees gave out, and she sat down sharply on the edge of the bed.

"Q?" Her voice was thin and reedy.

Sarek looked concerned. "Yes. Have you heard of them?"

"No," Hermione confessed. "How can you be certain he was omnipotent?"

"I can't. He never made a second appearance. But it was what he said that intrigued T'Pau. He said you were important. And a disruptive influence in the past."

Hermione closed her eyes. It was a while before she gained enough control to open them. To meet Sarek's steady gaze.

"You know."

"That you were born before the Eugenics Wars? Yes."

"Who else knows?"

"Only T'Pau and Spock know everything, though five other kinsfolk know some details. Three were part of the Healing." Hermione nodded. Satisfied, Sarek continued. "Q appeared to T'Pau, my paternal grandmother. She informed me, and I informed Spock, my son."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. She was getting close to the answers she had been looking for. Tears pooled as she voiced the one question that had kept her wondering.

"Why?"

Sarek did not respond until after he had moved a chair to about three feet in front of her, well inside the usual Vulcan personal bubble.

"I do not know if Q was telling the truth. I can only inform you of his conversation with T'Pau," he warned her. Hermione nodded, indicating her understanding, and then she listened to Sarek repeat the details of a tale voiced by his grandmother, the Matriarch of Vulcan.

"… I cannot say with any certainty if his claims are true, but my House did not reach its status by ignoring advice, trace evidence, and potential allies. He said you would be important, to watch for you, so we have, primarily through the Vulcan embassies on Terra. Not very successfully, though, since you have lived on Earth for years without drawing our attention. Our information specialists set up several programs looking for any trace of Hermione Granger or your physical appearance."

Hermione nodded slowly. "You wouldn't have. As soon as I realized I was not in my world, my time, I took steps to hide my appearance and past. I used a variety of pseudonyms until I had enough credits and contacts to buy a set of fake IDs. Others helped by setting up my fake background in various databases."

Sarek nodded. "Understandable. Have you been working as a Healer since you arrived?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. It was the only thing I could do. I didn't know the science or the tech, or even the local history, but less-than-legal outfits always need good doctors. I was very careful to only accept those with acceptable moral codes," she hastily reassured Sarek, whom she knew was amused, though he did not show it.

"Expected. You could not go to a legal authority without risking incarceration."

Hermione was taken aback by the placid acceptance. Whoever said Vulcans were rigid, inflexible scientists should be shot, drawn and quartered. Hermione had avoided Vulcans, though she had formed and maintained contact with various groups of V'tosh ka'tur. It was through them that she had learned about the language, culture, and history of Vuhlkansu.

Sarek was the epitome of the proper Vulcan, and T'Pau was the Matriarch. And yet both of them had believed in and looked for her. Probably for their own reasons, but they had not forgotten or stopped looking for her.

She blinked back tears and forced her eyes to meet Sarek's steady gaze. "So, what now?"

"It is up to you." Sarek's voice was undemanding, placid. "With the loss my people have suffered, we would welcome an additional Healer who has some familiarity with our ways. Currently, most of Vulcan's financial resources are being directed towards setting up a new home world, but there are other ways we can compensate you. Specialized training in more efficient healing techniques. A more thorough background history and complete educational history and credentials from one of the smaller learning institutions on Vulcan, before the destruction." He paused, to regain control. "The only surviving Vulcan Healing Adept is X'mjn H'twl T'Rin. And she is growing old. It would be logical for her to find suitable students, to share her knowledge and skills. Given our situation and your talents, I anticipate T'Pau would approve an offer of citizenship as well."

Hermione froze.

"May I think about it?"

"Of course."

She watched as he picked up the tray and exited the room. Once the door clicked shut, Hermione fell back on the bed and thought hard. This was so much more than what she had expected. Sarek was offering stability. A home. A place where she could put down roots and work without fearing discovery. Perhaps she could risk using more than just her healing talents. Hermione had been very careful about using magic on Earth. There was too much chance of being detected and exposed. Hermione knew her own race. Human beings were capable of great acts of both kindness and cruelty, compassion and hate. And no matter how much they puffed on about the Federation and accepting aliens, there was always a tendency to fear and hate those of their own kind who were different.

Sure, she'd be surrounded by Vulcans, but they wouldn't be as bad as the pureblood wizards she had fought. Vulcans might be stand-offish and snobbish intellectuals, but they wouldn't try to kill her for the sin of being different. It wouldn't be logical. The only downside she could see was the separation from the few individuals she cared for. But then again, most of them were either in Starfleet or off-planet on various merchant vessels. Most of her contact was through comm and subspace transmissions. That wouldn't change if she accepted Sarek's offer. T'Pau's offer.

T'Pau, the Matriarch of all Vuhlkansu, knew and had looked for Hermione. Sarek expected T'Pau to offer Hermione citizenship. T'Pau wanted Hermione, most likely for her healing abilities, but Hermione was okay with that. It was like wanting the best scientist, doctor, engineer, or programmer for whatever project you had going. And T'Pau was powerful enough to protect her if any rogue agencies came hunting, from the Federation and Earth if the bureaucrats and scientific community found out about her. Vulcan was good at protecting their own. They had done it for thousands of years, and Hermione was certain that wouldn't change anytime soon.

That was enough to seal the deal in Hermione's mind. She pulled out a PADD from the bedside table drawer and began composing lists: people she needed to inform via mail or in person, things she had to do, personal belongings that had to be sorted through and disposed of, stored, or shipped to the new colony, supplies she needed to purchase or arrange for.

She hoped James would not react too badly when she informed him of her decision to accept Sarek's offer. She expected him to whine and bitch and sulk, but, with any luck, he'd get over the worst of it before he received his new assignment. She did not have any time to waste coaxing him into a good mood.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

In Paris, T'Pau sat down at the desk in her private suite. It had been a long day filled with meetings, with Starfleet, the Federation Council, and other organizations trying to locate a suitable new home for Vulcans. The bulk of their history and treasures and people had been lost when the Narada destroyed Vulcan, but there was still hope.

Only an estimated ten thousand had managed to escape, but there were about eight point two million Vulcans scattered throughout the Alpha Quadrant working for private institutions, the Federation, and on eighteen Vulcan colony worlds. T'Pau had considered choosing one of them as the site of the new home world but decided it would be better to start anew.

She tapped the sequence of keys to bring up her messages, scanning them by priority and sender. Everything was marked high priority since Vulcan's destruction. Then her attention was caught by one particular message. From Sarek.

Quickly she played it. Once, twice, then three times.

The human female was a True Healer. A self-proclaimed witch. T'Pau was uncertain of the archaic designation but was determined to keep an open mind. Healing and telepathy would have been considered witchcraft in Terra's past. And she was from the past. It would be best to meet and evaluate her and her abilities in person before drawing conclusions.

The intelligence, aptitude, and problem-solving tests were very promising. Her physical science background was oddly skewed to physics and biochemistry. T'Pau was uncertain why she had a strong understanding of physics and math. One more question for T'Pau to ask in person.

The elderly Vulcan skimmed her grandson's closing comments and was pleased. Sarek had logically anticipated T'Pau's next steps and made the initial offer. And the human Healer had accepted it.

T'Pau decided it would be prudent to wait three months before making the offer of citizenship to ascertain how the Healer was adjusting to the new situation. But T'Pau had no concerns. The woman had adjusted to the huge cultural shock of being removed from her own time and set into an unknown alien future. And she had thrived. She had made pragmatic, logical choices and had done what she could to serve. The matriarch skimmed over the list of requests. All logical and perfectly acceptable. Including the request for in-depth background and educational credentials. The name the Healer had chosen struck T'Pau. Hermione Jayne Evans. She had primarily been using the name Jean Evans on Terra.

T'Pau studied the image Sarek had attached in his communiqué. A slim, not-too-tall brunette, with dark brown eyes flecked with gold and defined, not-classical features, dressed in a long, dark blue skirt and long-sleeved blouse. She was standing next to a familiar younger blue-eyed blond human male; the same male who had fought and failed to save Vulcan but succeeded in saving his own home world. James Tiberius Kirk. He was grinning broadly at the camera, but the Healer's expression was calmer and more knowing.

T'Pau mentally reviewed Sarek's notes concerning Spock's reaction to her. And his own. The aura of calm and serenity Hermione Evans projected, her familiarity with Vulcan traditions. T'Pau knew her people were wounded and hurting. Perhaps this new healer would be the blessing Vuhlkansu needed in this trying time.

Vaguely she considered the best way to arrange a match between her great-grandson and Hermione Evans. Some of the other Elders might protest introducing more human genes into the House of Surak but—to T'Pau—the potential in the Healers bloodline was worth it.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Spock Prime stood discreetly between several cargo containers, waiting for his younger counterpart to make an appearance in Hanger One. He had heard Spock had made the decision to resign his commission. It was something he could not let his younger counterpart do without at least trying to change his mind.

A familiar, yet so very different figure appeared around the corner. Prime chose to make his move. He stepped out of his cover and began moving towards the exit, in plain sight.

"Father."

He stopped and turned around. "I am not our father. There are so few Vulcans left we cannot afford to ignore each other."

He saw the minute shock and quick comprehension in his younger counterpart's countenance.

"Then why did you send Kirk aboard, when you alone could have explained the truth?"

Prime could not contain the emotion softening his expression. "Because you needed each other. I could not deprive you of the revelation of all that you could accomplish together. Of a friendship that would define you both, in ways you cannot yet realize."

Spock frowned slightly. "How did you persuade him to keep your secret?"

"He inferred that universe-ending paradoxes would ensure should he break his promise."

Spock was shocked and not hiding it. "You lied."

"Oh, I implied."

He looked more thoughtful than horrified now. "A gamble."

"An act of faith," Prime corrected mildly, "one I hope that you will repeat in the future at Starfleet."

Spock stiffened. "In the face of extinction, it is only logical that I resign my Starfleet commission and help rebuild our race."

"And yet you can be in two places at once. I urge you to remain in Starfleet. I have already located a suitable planet on which to establish a new Vulcan home world. Spock, in this case, do yourself a favour. Put aside logic. Do what feels right."

His words were having an effect on his younger counterpart. He was pleased. And then shocked by what he heard next.

"Then I will be resigning my commission."

"May I hear your logic?"

"I have met a female who I wish to take as my bondmate."

Prime frowned faintly. "Is it Lieutenant Uhura? Is your relationship stable, and are your minds compatible?"

Spock stared. "It is not Nyota. We are only friends. I was her instructor and mentor for many years. It would have been most improper to have a more intimate relationship with her."

Now it was Prime's turn to be taken aback. "Forgive me, I was misinformed."

Spock inclined his head. "Understandable. The transporter room techs on the Enterprise most likely have generated widespread rumours based upon what they saw."

"Lieutenant Uhura kissing you."

"Yes. She was emotionally compromised and seeking reassurance. She did indicate her interest in forming a more intimate relationship but I declined."

"Is it T'Pring?"

Spock blinked. "T'Pring? Of course not. The betrothal was broken when I joined Starfleet."

Prime relaxed infinitesimally. One less concern in this new world. "Then may I inquire as to the identity of the female? And your reasons for resigning your commission?"

Spock looked away for a brief second. "She is a Healer currently in residence at the Embassy who will be joining the new colony. Her katra is very strong and soothing. And she has very unique insights on xenocultural interactions." His eyes were direct, challenging. "I plan on increasing our acquaintance and eventually offering koon-ut so'lik."

Prime frowned faintly. "A Healer?"

Spock nodded. "Most likely an Adept class."

"Most likely?"

"She has not been tested."

"But she has been practicing?" Prime was faintly scandalized. "How reckless! Why did her instructors not curb her activities?"

Spock blinked in mild confusion. "She is self-taught," he admitted. "She never had the chance to go through a Healing Apprenticeship."

Now Prime was confused. "If she is as strong as you imply, how is it that she has not undergone an Apprenticeship?"

Understanding dawned. "You assume she is Vulcan. She is a Terran with very hi-psi talents."

"Her name?"

And was intrigued by the reluctance of his younger counterpart to share the information.

"Hermione Evans."

"How curious. I do not remember meeting anyone by that name."

Spock merely stared and did not say anything.

Prime considered the situation and the stubborn tilt of his counterpart's chin. He did not understand how or why Spock had fixated on Hermione Evans. If she was a psi-talent, there was the possibility of external influences. He would have to meet with the young woman himself before reaching a judgment. But he could not force Spock to stay in Starfleet, only persuade him.

"Tell me Spock, how long have you known Miss Evans? Did you meet her before or after Vulcan was destroyed by the Narada?"

"After," Spock admitted grudgingly.

"Who introduced you to her?"

"Cadet Kirk."

That threw a wrench into the works. "Did James Kirk share anything regarding his relationship with her?"

Spock glared at his older self. "Purely platonic. She looked after him when he was a runaway teenager. When he was older, they travelled together. He considers her as a sister."

How curious. Prime made a note to investigate the relationship. "If she is as most human women, she will not be willing to start a relationship with you." He decided bluntness would be most effective.

"Why?"

"You have lost your world and your mother. You are emotionally compromised. Humans in similar situations seek comfort and connection from friends and lovers through intimacy. An experienced doctor will not start a relationship in such circumstances."

"But I am Vulcan."

"And she is human. In her view, a grieving male is seeking solace through intimacy, forming bonds. Not an inaccurate view. And as a human female, she will not enter a relationship under such circumstances and risk her emotional safety unless she is certain or only seeking a temporary arrangement." Prime's eyes were direct. "She has not known you long enough to know your intentions. And if you tell her, she will not believe."

Spock struggled internally before giving in. "Then what do you suggest?"

"Become friends with her first. Send messages and recordings. Start a dialogue and find commonalities before indicating your interest." Prime stared at the younger male. "In my experience, human females tend to be contrary creatures. If you push, she will run. If you wait, she will approach you of her own free will."

Spock frowned slightly. "I do not want to let her go to the colony without me," he admitted. "She is attractive and intelligent and powerful. Once she starts her Apprenticeship, other males will know."

"And remember, she is human. Most Vulcans do not see the logic in having a human bondmate." Spock did not appear to believe him, so Prime tried a different angle. "I will be joining the colony. I can observe Miss Evans and inform you of any potential suitors and her reactions to them."

Spock pressed his lips together and nodded shortly. "Very well. I will stay on the Enterprise if you keep me informed."

Prime inclined his head. "Agreed. Since my customary farewell would appear oddly self-serving, I shall simply say good luck."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

AN: I'm using a chunk of dialogue between Spock and Prime straight from the movie.

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Q's Gift 2/5 (Hermione/nu!Spock ~ PG13)

2011-11-08T04:33:23Z

Summary: McCoy is determined to look after a particular stubborn patient of his. He and Spock learn more of Jim Kirk's history, the facts not in the official files.

AN: Near the end of Reboot the Movie. Between the Narada's destruction and Kirk gaining Captaincy of the Enterprise.

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

~ooO After the Narada Ooo~

McCoy focused on completing the latest of the never-ending reports and patient files he had to maintain. It was part of his new duties as the current CMO of the Enterprise. Of course a CMO usually had a full staff of trained, experienced medics to handle the minutiae of Sick Bay. The Enterprise didn't. They'd lost three doctors, eight nurses, and nine field-medics in the Battle of Vulcan and the Narada Action. McCoy hadn't had the time to catch up on his paperwork until now, after the Enterprise had limped to Sol System, somehow in one piece. He had been too focused on keeping his patients alive and the traumatized, grieving crew from snapping.

"Doctor?"

The Georgia-born doctor looked up into the face of a blond, blue-eyed angel and resisted the urge to yell and chase the intruder off. Nurse Christine Chapel was a consummate professional and quite immune to his snark.

"What is it, Chapel?"

"You wanted to be informed of Captain Pike's situation."

Adrenaline spiked in McCoy's veins. "What is it?" He grabbed at the PADD she held and nearly overbalanced when she moved out range of his swipe.

"Doctor, Starfleet Medical has assigned a full team of specialists to treat Captain Pike. He has been transferred out of your care. You don't have to keep worrying about him."

McCoy shook his head. "He was my patient first," he insisted.

Chapel sighed. "Okay, but please note, I strongly believe you are stretching yourself too much, Doctor. We were given six weeks of downtime to recover from the battle and to grieve while the Enterprise is being repaired. I'm certain you aren't supposed to spend your downtime in Medical treating patients," she warned.

McCoy huffed. "Pike was my patient first. I need to make sure he's doing okay."

Chapel looked disapproving. "You can easily do that by reviewing his patient file."

McCoy snorted. "Give me a break, Chapel. You and I know the emotional effects of an injury like this are more devastating than the physical damage. Pike knows he is damn unlikely to get command of a ship anytime soon. And I know damn well the command types are the best at pretending everything is just fine and dandy while the ship is coming apart around them. I need to see him in person."

The nurse stared at her superior and nodded briefly before holding the PADD out. "Here are his most recent records. Copy it to your PADD. If you need anything else, let me know."

McCoy relaxed a tiny bit. "Thanks, Christine."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Commander Spock did not display any hint of stress or concern as he strode down the corridors of Phlox Medical Building, West Wing, fifth floor.

"Commander!"

His stride faltered and came to a stop. He turned on one polished boot heel.

"Doctor McCoy."

"Yeah. Didn't expect to see you around here. Thought you would be at the Vulcan Embassy."

Spock inclined his head slightly. "I was. Now I am here to see Captain Pike."

McCoy nodded firmly. "Good. He needs all the visitors he can get. To keep him distracted and not depressed. Though I'm not sure how good you'll be for that." The sharp jibe did not have too much affect. McCoy was abrasive and rude to everyone. It was a surprise he had enlisted in a military organization and gone through the Academy without being disciplined.

Spock focused on resuming his course, very aware that McCoy was matching his pace, grumbling slightly under his breath. The Vulcan's focus was slightly split: one part was concerned about his former captain; the other was debating his future options, to stay in Starfleet or to retire his commission and join the rest of his people on the new colony.

"Spock, I'm worried about Pike."

The Vulcan officer shifted his focus to his companion. "About what, Doctor? From what I understand, Captain Pike is being treated by the best trauma specialists and neurosurgeons in Starfleet Medical."

McCoy made an impatient gesture, flapping his hand loosely. "Yeah, yeah, but you have to understand Spock, there isn't much they can do for him. His nerves were absolutely destroyed, dissolved by the chemical toxins. Even modern medicine can't rebuild what is no longer there."

Spock nodded slowly. "I understand. My own research yielded similar conclusions."

"I'm not supposed to be saying this, but the only realistic option left is an exoskeletal implant system. And Pike has been refusing to consider it." McCoy frowned slightly. "The longer we wait, the more his body adjusts and heals the loss and the less effective the implant system will be. If he's going to recover any degree of mobility, he needs to undergo surgery in the next nine to ten weeks."

"What do you require from me?" Spock wasn't certain he wanted to know the answer, but the question needed to be voiced.

"Talk to him. Talk to Captain Illyria Xanamaha. She has his power of attorney and might be able to change his mind."

Spock frowned slightly. "He does listen to Number One," he admitted slowly, "but I cannot make any recommendations without doing more research myself."

"That's fine. Just do it quickly, and talk to both of them. I hope they'll listen to Vulcan logic since they've been ignoring all advice from trained medical professionals."

Spock nodded. "Understood."

Both men turned down a side corridor and went through the swinging doors isolating private patient rooms. After signing in at the nurses' station, they made their way to a particular patient room. The room was empty of its assigned resident, but not unoccupied.

A mature, fair-complexioned woman in her fifties, with short reddish-brown hair, wearing black pants and a command gold tunic with braiding at the cuffs indicating her rank of captain, turned away from the other occupant, a much younger blond man in cadet reds.

The man smiled upon seeing the newcomers. "Hey Spock! Bones!" His expression turned a tad more sober. "If you're here to see Pike, he's in PT. He should be back in about twenty minutes."

The female Captain nodded. "Jim is correct. You are welcome to join us if you have the time to wait."

McCoy nodded. "Actually, this is perfect." He turned to the female. "I want to know why you aren't supporting the medical advice to start the exoskeletal implant therapy."

Captain Illyria Xanamaha, more commonly known as Number One when she was Pike's XO, frowned. "Doctor McCoy, medical professionals can advise, but patients are free to refuse treatment."

McCoy glowered. "But I don't see any reason why Pike is refusing! The longer he waits, the less likely he is to ever walk! The longer he waits to start the regimen, the chances of the implants taking decrease correspondingly."

Number One frowned faintly. "I am aware of that. So is Chris." She paused, her lips pressed tightly together. "We simply wish to explore alternative avenues."

McCoy was taken aback. "What alternatives? I've looked at all the experimental treatments and untested neurosurgery techniques being developed. There is nothing that can undo damage caused by Centaurian slug toxins on human neural tissue. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar."

Number One and Kirk glanced at each other, communicating silently before coming to a unified decision. Spock could never understand how a psi-null race could manage an almost telepathic feat. This time it was Kirk who spoke.

"There are less…orthodox options, Bones."

McCoy pounced. "Less orthodox? What do you mean, Jim?"

Again that silent communication before Number One responded, "There is one more…specialist who might be able to help. If she says nothing can be done, Chris will almost definitely agree to start the implant therapy."

"What is this miracle worker a specialist in?" McCoy wanted to know. So did Spock.

Jim's answer was blunt and completely unanticipated. "Magic. She's a witch."

McCoy's jaw dropped before his complexion turned purple. "What the fuck are you high on, you idiot! You're believing some scam-artist who claims to be a witch over licensed, trained medical professions? Why I oughta–"

"Enough!" Number One's glare was enough to cut off McCoy mid-rant. When he fell silent, she continued, "I don't expect you to believe or accept, but I expect you to respect the patient's beliefs and lifestyle just as you would any patient who refuses treatment for religious or cultural reasons." McCoy opened his mouth to speak, then shut it and nodded curtly. "Have some faith. Starfleet would not have made me a captain if I was a gullible fool. And trust that Jim has enough experience and street smarts to spot a con-artist.

"Jean is the real thing. She has abilities most humans don't. Some of them include healing others, like an old-style faith healer, like Vulcan healing trances. I don't know how it works, but I've seen it with my own eyes." She glared at McCoy, daring him to comment. He knew better than that. "She is also honest. She doesn't leech from her clients. All she asks for is travel, living, and treatment expenses, in addition to a single hefty consultation fee. If she can't do something, she is upfront about it and only takes the travel and living expenses."

McCoy sneered. "If she is such a miracle worker, why hasn't the medical community heard about her?"

Now Number One looked amused. "Do you think she cares about public recognition and accolades? No. Part of her conditions is strict confidentiality. No publicity or organizations or government agencies. And all her clients know better than to break her rules. All the licensed doctor on file knows is that the patient recovered. An inexplicable medical miracle."

McCoy opened his mouth to protest, before shutting it with a thoughtful expression. "Eric Peterson? He was one of my patients in my first year, a jet-ski accident. The bone shards from the shattered spine were too numerous and badly placed for conventional surgery. I was informed he was being transferred out for specialist treatment. A few months later, I heard he had completely recovered. There was nothing in his file indicating any additional specialist treatment received after he left the Academy."

Number One shrugged. "He may have been one of her clients. I know the boy's father. Commodore Jack Peterson was a year behind Chris in the Academy."

McCoy swung around to Kirk. "And how did you get tangled up in this mess?"

Kirk shrugged. "Mia's a friend. She saved me." The answers were short and completely inadequate, but Kirk refused to expand. He turned to Number One. "Last I heard she's in Europe. I'll take the next shuttle over and track her down."

Spock noted a discrepancy. "Is her name Jean or Mia?"

Number One and Kirk glanced at each other. Kirk shrugged and responded, "Both. She uses a lot of aliases.

"Her actions are illegal," the hybrid pointed out carefully. "She is practicing medicine without training or a license."

Kirk snorted and grinned. "Trust me, Spock, what she does is nothing even similar to what Bones does."

Spock glanced at Number One. "Is it similar to Vulcan healing methods?"

She nodded. "Yes. But not entirely."

"Even Vulcan healers are trained and tested before they are allowed to practice."

Kirk snorted. "Hey look, there is no Earth equivalent to whatever agency regulates and licenses your healers. If she ever went to the medical community, they'd (a) laugh her out as a lunatic and try to commit her to an asylum, (b) believe her and push her to keep healing every near-hopeless case until she burned out, or (c) fear her and label her an Augment and cut her open, trying to figure out how she does it. So she created (d) and decided to do none of the above."

McCoy opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. Each of the first three scenarios were quite probable depending on who was informed.

Number One nodded, satisfied she and Kirk had made their points clear. She turned to the younger man. "She is most likely in England. Find her. Use the account for any expenses."

Kirk nodded soberly. "I will."

And he left after saying his farewells to his best friend and former acting captain and XO.

~o~

Thirty hours later, McCoy received a message from Illyria Xanamaha inviting him to stop by and visit Pike at his private home off Starfleet grounds. The doctors had released Pike the same day Number One and Jim had told him they were going to ask a witch-healer to examine Pike. There was no reason for Pike to remain on campus since he was refusing all treatment and any PT sessions could be conducted during scheduled visits by a trained physiotherapist.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

McCoy stomped up the old fashioned interlocking stone path leading up to the tall, narrow detached house. He wondered if the interior had been upgraded to have modern conveniences and new necessities like a lift and/or ramps.

He glared up at his silent companion.

"Now listen here, hobgoblin. I expect you to put that brain of yours to work as soon as we get in the door! The quicker you disprove this witchcraft nonsense, the quicker Pike can get started on the implant regime."

Spock's nostrils flared. "Doctor, part of the scientific process requires keeping an open mind and collecting data without bias before making a hypothesis."

McCoy stopped. "You can't be serious, Spock! Witchcraft, magic, and voodoo nonsense is just that! Unscientific mumbo jumbo! No one believes in such foolishness anymore."

Spock frowned slightly. "Doctor, at one point in Terran history, everyone believed the Earth was flat and that one would fall off the edge if one sailed too far from shore."

McCoy was taken aback. "That's different."

Spock sniffed. "No, it is exactly the same." And then he resumed his trek up the stairs and rapped sharply using the old-fashioned door knocker.

Within ten seconds the door was opened by Jim Kirk. He looked faintly relieved to see them.

"I'm glad you're here. Come on in." And he moved aside to allow his friends to enter the narrow foyer before guiding them to the back of the house. "Listen, Bones, just shut up and don't say anything too offensive. If you piss Mia off, she can make your life miserable."

"How? By giving me the Evil Eye?" McCoy scoffed.

Kirk stopped sharply and glared at his best friend. "Shut up, Bones! You don't know a thing about Mia and you don't want to. Fine! I can accept that. But I don't want to hear you talking trash about her!"

McCoy was taken aback by the furiously passionate defence from his usually laid-back friend.

"I don't get it, Jim. You're not one to believe in superstition. There is no such thing as magic!"

"Maybe it is psi or esper powers, or maybe it is something else altogether, but, from what I've seen, the closest description of Mia's abilities is magic."

The older male frowned slightly. "Jim, how can you be so sure?"

Kirk shrugged. "I trust her."

"But why?" McCoy wanted to know.

For a moment McCoy thought his best friend would not answer. He and Spock followed the younger male into the kitchen, furnished in white, black, and steel and modern conveniences. They watched Kirk pour premade lemonade from a jug into three glasses and pass them out before sipping from one himself. They waited until he began speaking, eyes distant.

"I ran away when I was fifteen. I couldn't stay in Riverside for a lot of reasons. I hitchhiked part of the way and walked the rest to Iowa City. It was the middle of winter, and I was too scared of being recognized to go into any of the more populous public places to get warm. I started spending all day at the local libraries, cycling through all the branches so the librarians wouldn't catch on. I bumped into her quite often. She somehow persuaded me to give her tech and history lessons in exchange for food. She could have easily learnt the same stuff from the Net, but she didn't so that she'd have an excuse to feed me. She did not judge me or ask me why I was alone with no money or friends. When I ran into some trouble with the local gangs, she was there. She insisted I stay with her since I was incapable of staying out of trouble." He laughed softly. "Every time I ran away, she somehow tracked me down and hauled me back. I screamed and shouted and broke down and cried in the end. Somehow she made me feel less empty and broken and fragile. So I stayed and found out she could do…odd things. That was how she made money. It wasn't entirely legal, but I wasn't too interested in legalities."

Spock shifted minutely. "What sort of odd things, Mr. Kirk?"

Kirk did not answer but simply continued speaking. "It didn't last, of course. Winona found out I'd run away and informed the police. They found me and took me back." There was a slightly broken look in his blue eyes. "When Mia tried to stay in touch, Winona threatened to charge her with statutory rape. Not that anything like that ever happened between us!" he added hastily. "I felt safe with Mia. I could sleep and dream simple dreams, no nightmares, because nothing could hurt me when she was there. She could protect me from anything. But Winona had to show up and ruin everything."

McCoy was silent and slightly shaken by this bit of shared history.

"As soon as I was old enough to leave without being dragged back, I did. I used my hacking skills to track her down and hustled pool between less-than-legal jobs until I had enough credits for transportation." He flashed a smile at Spock. "I travelled with her. She insisted I go to school. I picked up enough credits for a computer engineering degree, mostly through online classes. I did the lab units on whatever campus was closest.

"I think the first thing Mia did in a new city was locate the local libraries and post-secondary institutions. Then she'd somehow introduce herself to a whole pack of people, making off-hand comments, exchanging favours and advice for access to the facilities. I ended up setting up several IDs and histories for her. Most of her academic history ended up being confirmed when she challenged the exams and got the credits for her degree."

McCoy shook his head. "I don't get it, Jim. If she is so bright, why doesn't she just study medicine or whatever interests her. There are grants and scholarships if she can't afford the fees."

Bright blue eyes turned towards McCoy before he got an answer.

"She doesn't have a history, Bones. She wasn't in any Federation database I hacked into. It's like she appeared out of nowhere."

McCoy stilled. "Amnesia?"

Kirk shrugged. "Or something like it. I'm pretty sure she remembers more than she's telling, but it wasn't like I spilled all of my guts to her, so I couldn't protest."

"You can't be serious, Jim," he growled. "Do you honestly expect me to believe this crap?"

"No. Would I like you to? Yes." McCoy huffed. Kirk ignored him. "Just follow me. Number One's in the backyard sunning."

"And your so-called witch?"

"Mia is upstairs examining Pike." He glanced at his watch. "She should be done by now."

He pushed open the glass sliding doors separating the kitchen from the backyard and stepped through. McCoy and Spock followed, watching him hurry down the interlocking brickwork steps and cross the green grass towards two women, a familiar mature brunette with sleek reddish-brown hair and a very unfamiliar, much younger one with a mass of curly light brown hair streaked with blond and chocolate.

~o~

Spock cha'Sarek froze upon seeing the younger unknown woman rise up from her seat, arms held out towards James Kirk. He could feel the subtle power of her intensify and build to a peak the moment she touched the cadet.

She was psi, a very high-level talent and very skilled. He could see the young male relaxing, kneeling in the grass at her feet as she sat down so that his face was easily within her reach. And she touched him. Spock was seized by the urge to pull the potential rival male away when he realized she was touching him as a Vulcan female would, a mother, an elder sister, a clan matriarch.

Fingertips dancing over the temple meld points, over the cheekbones and sinus pressure points, a thumb over the eyelids and up between the brows, long strokes along the cords of the throat and just under the collar of the grey Starfleet gym-T.

He watched as she stroked her hands over Kirk's shoulders and arms, down his chest and sides and back. A Terran would pass it off as an amateur massage, but Spock could sense the energy building and ebbing with each stroke. He could see the effect her actions had on Kirk, the subtle relaxation and reduced tension in him. Spock could see the younger male was moving less stiffly now, twisting his torso when before he had been very careful to avoid performing a similar motion. Somehow her touch must have healed the bruises and damage, or at least numbed the ever-present pain.

"And how have you been, James? The last few weeks must have been tremendously stressful." Her voice was unexpectedly deep and husky, rich with empathy and compassion.

It sent shivers up Spock's spine. It also re-ignited his compulsion to toss Kirk aside and take his place at her feet. The Vulcan resisted the urge to shudder. She clearly had a very powerful and dominating personality. He straightened a fraction and focused on cataloguing his observations.

"Fine, now that you're here," Kirk admitted softly before shifting closer to rest his head on her lap.

Her expression softened as she carded her fingers through thick wheat-blond hair.

"Oh, sweetie…" she sighed, cupping the back of his neck, "I can't always be there with you. You must learn to cope without me."

Kirk shook his head, burying his face in her lap. "Nuh uh." His voice was muffled. "I tried that before. I went on several weeks-long benders. The last one ended with me enlisting in Starfleet."

"But sweetie, it looks like Starfleet has made something of you." She tugged his head up, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Can you honestly say you don't like who you are right now?" Kirk shook his head in the negative. "Then you are in the right place."

"But I don't like being away from you," he grumbled. "I can't comm you when I want. And a shipboard posting means I'll rarely get to see you."

"Listen to me, sweetie. It's just growing nerves. You were in a very bad place when we first met. It is natural to cling to something familiar and stable. But, by that same token, it is natural to grow out of the nest and spread your wings." She cupped his cheeks with both hands. "And you have definitely grown out of the nest and soared high. I'm so proud of you! Your achievements have gone beyond Exceeds Expectations." She laughed softly. "You deserve an Outstanding!" And she kissed him on the forehead soundly before rising, tugging him with her. "Now, why don't you introduce me to your friends." Dark brown eyes glinting with flecks of red and gold turned towards Spock.

She was looking straight at him. An almost triangular face with straight eyebrows, a long, narrow nose pointing down to full unpainted lips and a defined, clefted chin, a knowing look in dark brown eyes, a small, composed smile curving her lips. Her light brown hair was streaked haphazardly in various shades of brown and blond. The tresses around her hairline were twisted into two thin braids at her temples that were pinned behind each ear with small clips allowing the bulk of it to flow and move freely around her shoulders and down her back.

She was not too tall, the top of her head coming to several inches below Kirk's. Spock estimated she would only come up to his chin in bare feet. And she was the very image of the Gryffindor Princess. And Spock dearly wanted to yank her away from the childish cadet.

Kirk grinned broadly. "Mia, meet Doctor Leonard McCoy and Commander Spock cha'Sarek." He indicated each of them in turn. "Bones, Spock, meet…." He turned to her with an inquiring look.

"Jean Evans." The intimate softness was dominated by a clipped, vaguely British accent.

McCoy nodded brusquely. "Miss Evans."

"Doctor McCoy." Her tone was just as clipped. Then she turned towards Spock, her expression settled into a polite mask, though her eyes were as open as ever. "Commander." Her hands and body shifted into the correct position of a neutral outsider entering clan lands. "I grieve with thee and thy people. For your loss and suffering."

Spock did not blink as he murmured the traditional responses. His mind was focused on an extraneous fact. She knew the Old Ways taught only within the Clans, never to outsiders. But how? Did she have an alliance with some other Vulcan clan? Had any survived the destruction of Vulcan? These were questions only she could answer.

She folded her hands and waited, her head inclined at the perfect angle, her posture the exact duplicate of any high-class Vulcan clan daughter. As per tradition she would be required to hold the position until released or requested to fulfil a task by the griever. This was the perfect opportunity to secure the answers he sought, but, by doing so, he would only drive her away. He had to secure her trust first.

So he voiced a more innocuous request.

"Cadet Kirk calls you Mia. It does not resemble the usual Terran-style name contraction."

She was silent before she answered. "It isn't. It is from my birth name, Hermione. I usually go by Jean, which is my middle name."

Spock inclined his head in understanding. Another bit of evidence proving she was the same female about whom Q had told them.

"You are a powerful psi. I can sense it," Spock announced abruptly.

She smiled faintly. "And so are you to have felt it. I understood Vulcans were primarily touch-telepaths."

"We are. But there are always outliers who do not fit the usual Bell curve."

She inclined her head.

McCoy shifted, drawing their attention before speaking. "I don't know who or what you are, and I don't really care at this point as long as you aren't feeding false hopes."

She turned to the doctor with a cooler, more challenging expression. "I do not lie or beat around the bush. I never promise guarantees, only a chance." She turned to Number One. "I had a look at Chris, and I'm not going to lie. He's in really bad shape. Pure physical trauma has fewer complications and is relatively straightforward. This case is different." She hesitated. "I'm going to need supplies and tools I don't have because they are too expensive or restricted."

Number One nodded firmly. "I thought so." She produced a credit wafer. "Use this for any purchases. If it is not enough or you need leverage, let me or Jim know."

"Or myself." Spock announced. Everyone turned to stare at him with varying degrees of disbelief. "Captain Pike is my friend; he has been my advisor and mentor ever since I studied at the Academy."

Jean Evans' expression softened. "Of course. I am uncertain of your commitments. I'm sure you have other priorities, your people…" she trailed off hesitantly.

Spock inclined his head. "You are correct. But I still wish to assist you in your endeavours."

She stared hesitantly, glancing at Kirk, who gave a tiny nod. She turned to him and nodded. "If it is your desire."

"It is."

She picked up a PADD lying on the grass and held it out to him. "These are the supplies I need. The ones in bold are absolutely essential. The items just below and indented are acceptable substitutes."

Spock scanned the list quickly. Most were minerals or raw botanicals, with the occasional animal matter. The majority looked to be items that could be purchased in traditional markets or from a horticultural company. Some looked unfamiliar but Spock was certain he could make any questionable purchases through the Vulcan Embassy. The minerals… He looked up at her.

"The plant and animal matter will not be of great concern. Most can be purchased in the traditional markets. Little India or Chinatown," he announced. "Gemstones cannot be bought in a similar fashion."

She nodded. "I understand. Rose quartz would be an acceptable substitute for amethyst."

"Very well. Do you have any other requirements regarding your supplies?"

"They must be as fresh as possible. Store them in glass containers or raw silk. Try to avoid using transporters. A medical stasis containment unit would be okay. Wrap the crystals and rods in raw silk as well. I will need access to a metal workshop and power tools to build a few things once I have the supplies, as well."

Number One nodded. "That can easily be arranged. I'll just book one of the machine shops on Campus. Just let me know the best day and time for you."

McCoy sighed. "Stop by my office in Medical Building A, and you can pick up a portable stasis unit. I'll let Chapel know you're going to be borrowing one."

Kirk smiled brightly. "Thanks, Bones!"

Evans turned to Kirk. "Go with Commander Spock. You know what to do."

Kirk nodded and took the credit wafer from Number One before glancing up at Spock. "When is a good time for you?"

Spock thought for a moment. "Today, 1430 hours."

"Sounds good. I'll meet you at Wongs Restaurant on Sixth and Tenth." He brushed a quick kiss against the curly-haired brunette. "I'll see you later, Mia."

Spock inclined his head. "I must take my leave now, as well. It would be prudent to do some research to locate potential suppliers outside San Francisco."

McCoy grumbled. "Since I'm here, I may as well do a check-up on Pike as well."

Number One nodded. "I'll show you up." She glanced at Evans. "What about you?"

"I need to meditate for a few hours," the younger woman confessed. "Scanning Chris was stressful. The damage and trauma…" she trailed off.

"Go and meditate," Number One urged. "I'll come up and get you when dinner is ready."

"Thanks."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Later that same day, Spock debated the best way of securing information from Cadet Kirk without him being aware. They had just finished purchasing everything they could in San Francisco's Chinatown and were on their way to order Chinese take-out for themselves and the Pike household. After considering and discarding several alternatives, Spock decided to settle on the direct route.

"Mr. Kirk. May I make a personal query about your relationship with Jean Evans?"

Kirk's shoulders hunched defensively. "We're just friends, so don't you dare make any nasty insinuations about her taking advantage–"

"I do not have any questions regarding that," Spock interrupted uncharacteristically. He did not even want to consider the possibility of the Gryffindor Princess being in a relationship with the unruly human cadet.

Kirk looked confused. "Then what do you want to know?"

"You mentioned you met her in Iowa City when you were fifteen."

"Yeah."

"And you rejoined her once you achieved your majority."

"Yeah."

"And you travelled and studied with her."

"Yeah."

"What did she study?"

Blue eyes widened in comprehension. "Everything. But she was more interested in theoretical sciences and xenohistory." He looked away. "I think she actually got formal credentials as a naturopath and counsellor. From some obscure college in Japan."

"But she is not registered with any association." Kirk cocked a brow. "I checked. Jean Evans is not part of any medical or therapeutic professional organization."

Kirk shrugged. "She wouldn't be. She doesn't trust organized authority to do what is right for her. For the majority, yes. So she doesn't stay in one place long enough for anyone in the medical community to notice and make inquiries. Everyone knows her first rule is confidentiality and privacy. Anyone who breaks it is in for a really nasty streak of bad luck."

Spock considered Kirk's claims. "Vulcans do not believe in luck."

"Yeah? Maybe Vulcan's don't, but humans do. And when everything goes consistently wrong, even a non-believer turns into a believer and is very contrite." Kirk snickered. "Simon Miller's wife certainly was very contrite after her two-month-long bad hair day." Spock looked confused, so Kirk expanded. "Nicole Miller is a gossip, but Mia felt sorry for their granddaughter, so she took on the case. But when the tabloid rags came visiting, Mrs. Miller's hair dye turned her hair green, then orange before it fell out. She begged and begged, but Mia refused to undo whatever she had done. It looked like short orange fuzz for a month before it grew out and started to look half-way normal."

"There are chemicals that can create such effects," Spock allowed.

Kirk scoffed. "Yeah. But no doctor or stylist could figure it out and undo it. Nicole Miller definitely learnt her lesson. Last I heard, she could be a model for zipped lips. She doesn't gossip anymore. Actually, she still does, but not about confidential things. I think that's one of the reasons why Simon Miller was promoted to Admiral last year."

Spock frowned. "You mentioned she distrusts organizations. However, she did not display any such qualms regarding your enlistment in Starfleet."

"It's different. I'm just a run-of-the-mill human. George Kirk's son and a genius, but still human. She…isn't. Not entirely," Kirk admitted. "I think she might be a hybrid of some sort. She has some odd quirks in her DNA, but nothing alien from the Federation databases."

"Has she indicated anything about alien ancestry?" Spock wanted to know.

"Nothing concrete. Just odd little quirks." Jim flashed a smile. "You'll see it yourself. She doesn't like replicators or transporters. And I really don't know how she does it, but given time and incentive, she can destroy a starship's electrical systems. I've seen PADDs fall apart or fry when she's angry. And when she's really pissed, little lightening sparks fly from her hair."

Spock considered the information. Everything Kirk described were indications of a powerful psi talent, one strong enough to affect the physical world. But to control such power, she had to have been trained. Just where and how had she received such training in twentieth-century Earth? Or did she receive it in the twenty-third century?

"Did she say anything of her past?"

Kirk shrugged. "Not really. Sometimes she mentions people and places I've never heard of. Some guy named Harry. I think he might have been a boyfriend. And a few teachers. They had odd names: Minerva, Filius, Septima, Bathsheba, Poppy. She talked about her old school. She said it was a boarding school housed in a castle in Scotland. Every year was divided into groups called Houses that provided some structure and support for the younger students and competed against other Houses. She said she was in Gryffindor. I looked but I never found anything even remotely similar. I'm not sure how much is real and how much she dreamed up to fill in the blanks."

Spock was silent. He was almost certain now that Jean Evans had been telling Kirk the truth. A castle in Scotland fit some of the images in the painting. And Gryffindor. Q had called her the Gryffindor Princess.

"You did not mention this to Doctor McCoy," he pointed out neutrally.

Kirk snorted. "Yeah, because he'd jump on her for being delusional." He stared at Spock. "Look, she isn't hurting anyone and has a pretty firm grip on present reality. She might have dreamt up some wild things to fill in the blanks in her past, but it isn't hurting anyone. She isn't claiming to be Archer's long lost granddaughter or the President's lovechild."

Spock nodded. "Understood." He understood far more than Kirk ever would. Jean Evans was almost certainly the time displaced woman described by Q. And given that she had confirmed her name was Hermione… Sarek had theorized her true birth name was Hermione Granger. He stilled. Sarek had to be informed of these new developments.

He pulled out his PADD and composed a message requesting a meeting with his father.

Spock was very aware of Kirk trying to read the message. He could not, as the text was in Vulcan script.

"Is that a message for Uhura?" He inquired casually.

"My father."

"Oh."

The curt response was enough to repress the usually irrepressible cadet.

Once the message was complete, Spock attached the mostly crossed-off supplies list. Sarek would have more resources to secure the more expensive and restricted items on the list. It would only help to demonstrate his sincerity, Vulcan's sincerity.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

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Q's Gift 1/5 (Hermione/nu!Spock ~ PG13)

2011-11-08T04:31:29Z

Title: Q's Gift
Author: sarhea
Fandoms: Harry Potter; Star Trek AOS/Reboot/IX/2009; Star Trek TNG
Summary: Q decides Hermione Granger is messing up the timeline given her tendency to fight for underdog causes so he drops her in the future to be found by young James Kirk. To stir the pot, he also leaves a trail of bread crumbs for the House of Surak... clues to help T'Pau's descendants identify a singularly unique human female with great power, rare abilities, and a driven intellect. Then one day Spock meets a woman who could be the model for a painting created long before his father was even born, a human who was More. Having lost his mother to Nero he is unwilling to let a woman who soothes his soul to walk away without making a claim on her.
Author Notes:
- AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; ignore the epilogue, EWE. Hermione and Ron do not get together. They Do Not Work in my universe.
- Post the Star Trek Reboot movie with spoilers. Key changes near the end of the movie and several new scenes between their return to Earth and the Admiralty confirming Kirk's Captaincy.

Summary: T'Pau meets Q and a clan legend takes root

AN: Pre Reboot the Movie

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

~ooO Provoking Interest in Vulcans Ooo~

T'Pau allowed her awareness to return to the physical. She blinked and stared as she noticed the intruder in her private room, a Terran male dressed in black boots and an odd jumpsuit, with black legs, sides, and shoulders and a red long-sleeved top. At that moment he was bending forward from the waist, poking at the embers of her firepot like an unruly child.

"But I am not a child."

She blinked, startled. Had he read her–?

"Yes. You were projecting very clearly."

Reflexively the leader of the Syrrannites slammed down her shields and focused on keeping her thoughts carefully blank.

He straightened and turned with a typically human smile that unnerved the Vulcan, so she focused on his appearance instead. The collar of the odd jumpsuit was a stand-up style with four round metal studs in a row on one side. His hair was dark brown standing up all over his head in an informal human style and receding, eyes dark brown and very round, skin the white-pink typical of Caucasian Terrans.

"Who are you?"

The human male cocked his head to one side and arched his brows. "Is that what you really want to know?" T'Pau was confused. "Let me put it this way, who I am is not really important, but what I'm here to share with you is."

"And there is no way for me to know both?" T'Pau inquired calmly.

He laughed. "You are correct, T'Pau, daughter of T'Kei. Why don't I start with who I am, then." He waited until T'Pau nodded hesitantly in agreement. "My name is Q. I am a member of the Q Continuum. The Continuum exists on an extra-dimensional plane of existence. What you see before you," he gestured at himself, "is a construct. I have no physical body. I can choose what appearance to take." There was a flash, and, when it cleared, T'Pau saw a Vulcan with the same facial features and messy hair dressed in the same odd black-red jumpsuit. There was another flash, and the original human male reappeared. "All Q are omnipotent, and more barbaric and infantile races have called us gods. You may consider us watchers. When we do interfere, it is for a reason that is usually unclear to the mortal races involved."

T'Pau nodded. If this Q was omnipotent as he said, it made sense his people had rules to not interfere in the development of the younger, less experienced species. It was the reason why Vulcan was very hesitant to provide technology to Earth. Of course, being on the other foot—as the humans said—was not very… pleasant.

"May I know the reason why you are 'interfering' now?" She spoke carefully. She was not quite sure if she believed, but it would not hurt to listen.

Q looked hard at her before nodding and reaching out to pick up a sliced half of amethyst geode. It was an inexpensive, common geologic specimen, short purple crystal shards pointing inwards from the curved inner surface of the semi-ovoid rocky 'shell.'

T'Pau watched with wide eyes as a bright white flash appeared above his hand. The geode vanished, leaving behind a double-fist-sized chunk of purple crystal, long, perfect facets and a center free of the micro fissures that usually riddled large natural crystal specimens, making them cloudy and unattractive. An amethyst crystal of that size and quality would be priceless, a family heirloom, treasured for properties that amplified and focused psionic abilities such as empathy, telepathy, and healing.

He tossed the crystal towards T'Pau who caught it reflexively. "Here, a token of my seriousness. It is the real thing and two point four five times larger than the one kept in Mount Seleya. And unlike that one, this one is flawless. It can easily handle up to five Adepts—or the equivalent—merging for a single purpose."

T'Pau nodded wordlessly. His claims could easily be verified. If the stone was as he claimed, it would be well worth listening. Perhaps even beneficial.

Q smirked. "Good. Keep listening, T'Pau of Vulcan. I want you to meet someone." He waved at one wall. There was another white flash, and, when it faded, there was a large, three-foot-high, four-foot-wide picture, framed in rare Teku wood carved in an intricate design of vines and thorns around the edges.

T'Pau could not resist stepping closer to examine the artwork. The surface was heavy canvas stretched on a wooden frame coated with thick, vividly-hued pigments. It was a Terran artistic medium. T'Pau had heard and seen oil paintings, but such art did not fare well on Vulcan with its hot, dry atmosphere.

"I am unfamiliar with the figure depicted."

The painting was a collection of images, distant and close-up, all of one Terran female in a variety of settings and outfits. She was young, less than thirty, with deep velvety brown eyes that seemed almost alive, even on the painted surface. She was not classically beautiful, with straight, thick brows and a long tip-tilted nose. Her cheekbones were high and as defined as her jaw line and firm, clefted chin. Her mouth was full and lush, painted or slick in the different images, almost sensual.

Her light brown hair, streaked with light and dark hues, by turns flowed wildly around her face and down her shoulders, or was restrained in an elegant coronet of braids, or was twisted in a haphazard knot, anchored with slender sticks that did not constrain wispy strands from escaping and framing her face and touching the nape of her neck.

She was a child, still physically immature, walking down an ancient stone-paved corridor lined with Terran-style medieval armour bearing weapons, with a heavy looking bag bulging with books over one shoulder. She wore a knee-length pleated gray skirt and white shirt with red and yellow-striped fabric knotted around her neck and knee-high black socks and shoes.

She stood under a tall leafless tree staring at a lake, a Terran castle in the misty background, wearing white lace-up shoes, pale blue heavy cotton trousers, and a tight-fitting red top embroidered with yellow and white flowers around the neck and short sleeves, holding a slender length of wood, around ten inches long, in one hand.

She was seated at a desk with piles of ancient books arranged around her, scribbling on an unrolled scroll using a glass-nib pen and inkpot, dragging her ink-stained fingers through her messy mane of brown curls. Her clothing was black and covered her completely, from her neck down to her wrists.

She stood on a marble balcony, leaning against the balustrade, under the velvety dark sky, sprinkled with stars. She wore an elegant, old-fashioned Terran-style gown made of thin, very light purple and pink material that floated from a high waist, with a low-necked bodice and cap sleeves.

She was dressed in heavy black robes, the skirts almost floating around her legs, holding out an arm wielding the slender length of wood like a conductor's baton. Sparks of red and gold shot from the tip like miniature fireworks.

T'Pau turned to Q. "Who is she?"

"Her name is irrelevant. It is simply a label which can be easily changed." Sensing T'Pau's ire, he smirked and added, "She is known by many names and titles, some complimentary and some not, but all very accurate labels on various aspects of her character." Sensing he had her attention, Q continued. "Know-it-all. Bookworm. Side-kick. The Gryffindor Princess. Brightest Witch. Most Brilliant Mind. The-Witch-Who-Said-No. Trouble-maker. Rebellious. Law-breaker. Self-rule Activist. Creative. Loyal. Dependable. Honourable. Vengeful. Ruthless. Unrelenting. Implacable. Compassionate. Loving. Merciful. Trusted."

T'Pau was impressed and concerned. At one point she herself had been similarly labelled. It was only after she had succeeded that the trouble-maker, law-breaker, and rebel labels vanished. It was odd, feeling much in common with an unknown Terran.

"Why are you showing her to me?"

Q studied T'Pau intently. "I am only sharing this information as a courtesy. What you do with it is your choice." He waited until T'Pau nodded, indicating her understanding, before continuing. "I have removed her from the past. Her presence was disrupting history, warping your Now for the worse. Not because she was doing anything wrong, but because she was trying to do too much Right. She was born in the decades leading up to the Eugenics Wars, and when her people chose to retreat and hide from the Holocaust, she chose not to because it was not in her nature to see her people suffering and look away. And she would be quite successful in her personal guerrilla war. For quite a few years."

T'Pau's eyes widened, and she stared at the painting more closely. "One female would have such a drastic impact on a planetary war?"

"Like you haven't?" Q challenged.

T'Pau stilled and bowed her head, accepting the jibe.

"Anyway, like I just said, she would succeed in keeping the Augments from gaining control. Unfortunately it would make them more vicious and driven and reckless. They would use methods that would shatter all civilization and cause a general reversion to the Dark Ages. That is something that cannot be allowed—humanity is too important for the future—so I was given permission to move her to a time where she will not have such an effect."

T'Pau considered the information and noted a flaw. "You have not specified if now is a time on which she will not have such an effect."

Q smirked. "Good call. It isn't. Things are too much in flux, and there is too much paranoia and general fear of all things different. You know that best, given Terra Prime and the former Vulcan High Council's actions. The universe is not yet ready to accept and respect her values, ethics, and abilities."

"Then when will the universe be ready?" T'Pau wanted to know.

"Soon." Q thought hard. "In your grandson's time, almost certainly in your great-grandson's time." He cocked his head. "She will bring great honour and promise to any clan. Fresh blood, new attitudes, different perspectives, power, drive, and intelligence." He glanced at the painting. "Of course, winning her loyalty and respect is a completely different story. She is not the sort to bow and submit because it is expected. Quite unlike her namesake in The Winter's Tale." He smirked. "I don't think there are any Vulcans with the mental flexibility to understand, match, and accept her. Vulcans generally are a rather rigid, blinkered race. Besides, she is not the sort to follow social expectations. The best thing you can hope for is forming an alliance." He waved a hand. "Good luck finding her." And then he vanished in a white flash of light.

T'Pau blinked, taken aback by the bland conclusion that Vulcans were incapable of the necessary mental flexibility to understand and accept humans. She huffed internally and made the decision to prove Q wrong. She would show the Q Continuum that Vulcans were capable of understanding and accepting humans.

Then she realized the near impossibility of the challenge awaiting her. Was it really worth the trouble and effort? She had created her position opposed to interactions with off-worlders, supporting the Syrrannite interpretation of Surak; Pure Logic would clash with human emotionalism and sensibilities. Then she remembered that this human female was admired by an omnipotent being. Her will and influence was enough to potentially shift the path of a major event in Terran history. It was almost certain she would shape the future once she formed new contacts and alliances.

T'Pau was determined that Vulcan be part of that alliance. Good thing she had at least four to five generations to work on ensuring it.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Young Sarek stared at a high resolution digital rendering on a stretched silk screen. It had to be a duplicate of a Terran artist, given that the subject of the painting was a Terran female, around ten years older than himself, dressed in archaic clothes.

"I see you have discovered our clan's secret, Sarek-am."

Sarek did not flinch. It would shame his parents to display his faulty control before the clan matriarch.

"Pid-kom." His voice was level with the high-pitch of childhood.

T'Pau nodded gravely and did not speak. Sarek did not fidget, but after thirty-seven seconds he spoke first.

"Who is she?" He glanced at the digital rendering.

T'Pau glanced at the young Terran female with laughing eyes, solemn eyes, challenging eyes… eyes that seemed to follow T'Pau no matter from what angle or distance she observed the image. The effect was more intense when she looked upon the original 'gift' Q had given her.

"Her name is not known, and it is irrelevant."

Sarek considered the information. "But she is important," he concluded.

T'Pau was taken aback by the insight. "How did you reach that conclusion?"

"She is Terran. They are mostly weaker and less intelligent than Vulcans. For you to be interested in her, she has to be More."

T'Pau was impressed by the logic. "You are correct. She is more. She has the potential to shape planetary, no quadrant-wide history and influence the flow of events."

Sarek blinked. "How so?" he asked hesitantly. "Certain patterns repeat throughout history in cycles, but how can you say this Terran female will have such an effect?"

T'Pau raised a brow. "Was not Surak also but a single voice? His voice guided our people out of savagery and towards logic and control."

Sarek bowed his head. "You are correct. Forgive me, but I failed to define my query more accurately. How do you know she is a pivot point for events?"

T'Pau's brow smoothed. "Sit Sarek-am and listen to my tale. It is part of our House history and is not to be shared with others. Understood?"

Sarek stiffened obediently. "Yes, Pid-kom." And then he sat on a low backless stool, across from the high-backed chaise upon which T'Pau settled.

And he listened to T'Pau describe her first and only encounter with the omnipotent being known as Q. Of a not-ordinary human called the Gryffindor Princess. At the end of the tale, Sarek was more serious and grave, comprehending the weight of knowledge to which he was now a party.

"I have chosen to share this information with you and not your parents or anyone else because you of all my grandchildren have the necessary flexibility to meet off-worlders and find common ground. Most Vulcans see Terrans as lesser, and most are, but they erroneously conclude all are lesser and so do not recognize when they encounter the rare gems. You must remember to greet each off-worlder without assumptions or prejudice. If you do not, you will be more likely to make inaccurate conclusions through biased and flawed data."

Sarek nodded solemnly. "May I go to Terra?"

"Why?"

He glanced at the rendering. "I would like to meet her. She is a Terran. It is highly probable she will stay with her own kind."

T'Pau frowned. "Remember what I said about making preconceived conclusions?"

"There are no facts saying otherwise," Sarek argued as he stood up and moved to stand before the painting. "The images in the background are highly reminiscent of historical Terran architecture. Most buildings on colony worlds are constructed of synthetic materials and are more modern in appearance."

"True. But there is no guarantee Q will leave her on Terra."

"If she is truly from the past, she will know nothing about modern technology, spaceships, aliens, and other planets. Terra will be familiar and safe to her."

"Your logic is sound. How do you propose explaining your presence on Terra?"

Sarek considered the question. "Many Vulcans teach in Terran educational institutions. Or I could join the Vulcan Diplomatic Service."

T'Pau nodded gravely. "Then expand your studies to include subjects required for a diplomatic career. When you are ready, I will put your name forward on the list of Ambassadors to Terra.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Sarek never forgot his conversation with T'Pau. After his marriage ended he set aside a promising career in Astrophysics to pursue a career in the Vulcan Diplomatic Service and eventually returned from Earth with a Terran bride, a teacher named Amanda Grayson.

It was a choice that surprised many, but one T'Pau supported after a private conversation with her grandson.

~o~

"Why have you chosen a Terran as your bondmate?"

Sarek was silent for a while. "It would be more concise if I shared my thoughts."

T'Pau studied her favoured grandson sharply before nodding. She watched as he knelt before her, face tilted up to meet her eyes calmly. He did not flinch as she settled her fingertips against the meld points on his temple and allowed her mind to sink into his.

Several minutes later she lifted her fingers away and gestured for him to sit beside her. And she watched with a thoughtful expression as he did that.

"You still seek her."

"Not to the exclusion of my other duties."

T'Pau was silent for a time. "There is no guarantee the Gryffindor Princess will react in a similar fashion as Amanda Grayson."

Sarek frowned slightly. "Amanda is different from the one Q described to you. But there is something about her expression, her passion for knowledge, her devotion to her students… It reminded me of the female in the painting. I found myself drawn to her," he admitted freely. "Our mental compatibility only confirmed my attraction to her."

"Your union will most likely be sterile," T'Pau pointed out. "Hybrids rarely survive birth or reach maturity. And there is a ninety-seven point three probability the child will be infertile."

Sarek did not look away. "Science can compensate when nature fails. The VSA has a very talented and skilled genetic engineering department."

T'Pau considered his suggestion. It was expensive but possible. Illogical to most but for a Matriarch seeking to bring a particular human female into the clan some point in the future perhaps it was not so logical. Amanda Grayson would be a test run, to determine what a human female would embrace in Vuhlkansu.

But this was her grandson's future, not a purely scientific experiment!

"Are you certain Amanda Grayson will not break?"

"I am certain."

Sarek did not flinch under the unrelenting scrutiny of his Clan Mother's black eyes. After several tense seconds she nodded once.

"Very well then. But first, I wish to speak to your bondmate myself."

~o~

T'Pau was not disappointed by Amanda Grayson. Not when she first met the young Terran woman, not in the months and years that followed.

Eventually Amanda Grayson presented Ma'at S'chn T'gai with a son named Spock, a new heir to the House of Surak.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Spock stared at a very old digital rendering on display in one of the smaller locked rooms in the family wing. He had hacked the system to see if he could, and once he had the 'key,' it had seemed logical to make use of it and explore the unused sealed rooms in the ancient estate.

"I see you have found the Gryffindor Princess."

Spock started. To his shock, his father did not look displeased by his actions. In fact, he looked reminiscent as he moved into the room to look upon the rendering.

Spock wondered why there were old images of a Terran female in a Vulcan household. As far as he knew, his mother was the first human female to marry into Ma'at S'chn T'gai. Who was this female? She had to be of great importance to be remembered by his House.

He watched his father re-examine the image from varying angles. As Spock mimicked his actions he could see what had so intrigued his father. The eyes in the painting seemed to follow him around the room; warm, loving, serene, accepting. He wondered if he would ever meet someone who would look at him like that.

"Who is she?" he asked his father.

"We have yet to determine her exact identity, Spock."

That was a bit of a shock to the young hybrid. "You do not know who she is, but you have a picture of her? Is the image valuable? Like the Mona Lisa?"

Sarek glanced at his son with faint amusement. "The painting is not intrinsically valuable, but it is to those of our clan who know its history."

Spock perked up. "History? Tell me, sa-mekh!"

And so Sarek told his son the tale the clan matriarch had shared with him. He had never managed to locate the time-displaced woman, but he had managed to uncover a few additional details about her.

"The Winter's Tale is an ancient Terran play written by a playwright named William Shakespeare. Q described her character as strong, intelligent, and driven, and very unlike her namesake from the play. There are two primary female characters in that play, Paulina and Hermione. Based on Q's description, her name must be Hermione.

"When I became ambassador, my assistant examined the Terran census records as far back as available looking for a Caucasian female named Hermione. As you know, many databases from before the Eugenics Wars are incomplete and fragmented. However, I believe we managed to determine her identity. Ramek found an old-style newsprint article about the winners of a fully-paid scholarship to a prestigious educational institution. One of the winners was a Hermione Jean Granger, born September 19, 1981 in Crawley, England. Computer software extrapolated her adult appearance from her image in that newsprint article to various ages, all of which strongly match the painting. There are no records of her after 2000 and very few details from before then."

Spock's eyes were very wide. "She is from so long ago? That was well before First Contact."

Sarek nodded. "Yes. T'Pau believes she will find it hard to adjust to the future, the new society, and modern technology. And if she is as wise as Q describes, she will not tell anyone she is displaced out of time. She will watch and wait and seek alliances with those who will respect and accept her."

Spock studied the female, no, Hermione Granger, more closely.

"She is pretty," he commented. "Her hair is like Terran oceans."

"What do you mean?"

Spock explained carefully. "It looks like it will move like waves."

Sarek considered the image and found he had to agree. "I believe you are correct. But it is something that can only be verified once she is found."

"Will you find her?"

"I do not know. T'Pau said she would appear in my lifetime or yours. That is a long span of time."

"But you are looking for her." Spock noted shrewdly.

"Yes. I've inserted certain subroutines to alert me if any variations of the name Hermione Granger are entered into any Federation database on Terra."

Spock considered his father's semi-legal actions. "Would it not be more logical to tell others? So more people can look for her?"

"Perhaps, but there is no proof other than memories, and T'Pau is unwilling to share what could be an advantage with others. Besides, few would believe such an extraordinary tale."

"What will be done if she is found?"

"That is uncertain and up to the clan member who locates her," Sarek admitted. "T'Pau indicated she would support an alliance or connection of a more lasting nature."

Spock's brown eyes were very wide again. "Like a bonding?"

Sarek inclined his head. "Like a bonding. The being called Q said she was loyal and honourable, powerful, driven, and intelligent, worthy qualities to introduce into the clan. And to impress an omnipotent being, she must truly be extraordinary."

Spock frowned slightly. "Is it not illogical to believe in an omnipotent being, in God?"

"Most modern Vulcans would agree, but remember Spock, our ancestors believed in many such deities. And remember, much of the universe has yet to be charted or explained thoroughly. For the concept of God, all-powerful beings, to be universal and enduring on so many worlds, there must be a core of truth in the tales."

The younger Vulcan absorbed the mild rebuke with a thoughtful expression before speaking. "Sa-mekh, do you believe in the gods?"

Sarek was silent for a while. "I cannot say I disbelieve in them," he answered after a while. "I have seen much and read many classified reports that indicate there are unknown entities guiding and shaping events. But who or what no one has been able to determine. They could be what our ancestors called gods or some unknown alien race that is more advanced than any we have encountered."

Spock nodded slowly. "So if someone believes in a god..."

"It is a personal choice. Just do not expect any god to act on your behalf."

"It is foolish and illogical to believe in gods then," Spock announced.

"Perhaps." The corners of Sarek's eyes creased. "But it would be illogical and rude to go around denouncing the religious beliefs of others. You can believe or disbelieve but do not disrespect anyone who chooses to believe."

"But it is illogical!"

"My decision to bond with, to marry, your mother was illogical to others. To me, it was perfectly logical. T'Pau understood that and that is why she supported our union despite the wide-spread opposition."

Spock looked down at his toes absorbing the information, then up at his father. "So this being called Q could be one of these entities?"

"I believe so."

"She must be very special for an advanced race to notice her." Then a small frown creased the young Vulcan's brow. "What should I do if I find her?"

Sarek tilted his head to one side. "That would be up to you. But you would gain great admiration and support, from T'Pau and myself, if you won her interest."

Spock frowned slightly. "But I am betrothed to T'Pring," he pointed out.

"Winning her interest doesn't have to mean wedding her. You must secure her respect and trust so that she trusts Ma'at S'chn T'Gai and, by extension, Vulcan."

Understanding dawned. "I understand, sa-mekh. If I find her, I will attain her respect and trust. So that she will be friends with me and our race."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~oooo~

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Big Bangs & Exchanges progress

2011-10-22T01:39:03Z

My progress report to date...

I finished my hermione_smut exchange fic and sent it in. It should be up in the next few days.
I finished my startrekbigbang fic, it's beta'd and my post date is Nov 9. Got a sneak peak at the art created by ladymac111 and I am very very happy. Can't wait to see what wyntreaurora mixes.
I finished my hgcrossovers fic, and it's with my beta. Due Nov 1.
My current -on a deadline- project is a new fandom: Smallville. It's a cwbigbang fic. I originally had the idea of a Cordelia/Bruce Wayne fic but the idea I had refused to blossom beyond the single scene in my mind. Decided to drop it in favour of a Smallville/Justice League cross. I've only got 2K words down and I really need at least 8K by Oct 31 for the 50% rough draft (final is minimum 12K). Wish me luck!
I finished one hgbigbang fic (a really long Hermione and Bruce) and it's with my beta
I finished 30% of my second one fic (a sequel) and it's driving me up the wall.

I'm crossing my fingers and praying for uninterrupted time and inspiration this weekend, and all of next week.

Wish me luck!

Another Exchange

2011-08-28T01:11:25Z

Not sure why but I've never written a Harry Hermione fic. I've read TONS of them but I've never written one. Came across this exchange and decided to sign up. 1K due Dec 1 so it gives me plenty of time. Any other takers?

Banner made by wildflower4evr
♥ SIGN-UPS for the annual Harry/Hermione Fan Fiction and Fan Art Exchange are now under way! Please join us for some old-fashioned, canon-defiant love! ♥
Sign-ups end on September 10th, so hurry up and sign up!

Five Times a Witch Helped Bruce Wayne (Luna/Bruce - PG)

2011-08-21T19:51:38Z

Title: Five Times a Witch Helped Bruce Wayne
Author: sarhea
Rated: PG13
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Batman TAS, DCVerse, Justice League
Categories: Crossover, xover, drama, friendship
Characters/Pairing: Luna Lovegood, Bruce Wayne
Summary: Five times Bruce Wayne accepted a service/aid from a Witch. OR Four times Luna Lovegood helped a hero and one time he opened up to her.
AN: OOC characters. Please note there are big time jumps between each part. No plans to fill/bridge them. This is meant to be a set of drabbles/one-shots.
Status: Complete, Updated Aug 22, 2011
For: LJ community 5-times. Prompt Sets #05 (for Her) and #07 (for Him).
Disclaimer: I do not own Potterverse and co (JK Rowling et al do). I do not own Batman and co (Warner Bros, Bob Kane, DC comics, et al do).

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Summary: Luna Lovegood meets Batman, AKA Bruce Wayne. AN: LJ community 5-fics. #05/1 Who & #07/5 Potion

~ooOoo~ ~ooO Part 1 Ooo~ ~ooOoo~

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Luna Lovegood looked around her very cautiously. The portkey had deposited her in a mid-sized well stocked kitchen pantry. Some of the contents she recognized, others were completely unknown to her.

"Luna Love?" a familiar crispy voice called out.

The British witch looked up and smiled instantly upon seeing the owner of the voice. She darted towards him, her arms open wide for a hug.

"Uncle Alfred!" she squealed as she hugged the elderly man dressed in a formal black-and-white suit. Then she drew back sensing the tension and strain in her elderly relative. "Uncle Alfred, what's wrong?"

His usual formal poise collapsed like a house of cards. "I need your help," he confessed.

"I thought so when I got your message to come to Gotham as quickly as possible." Luna smiled gently. "I know you prefer to visit me in Europe."

Alfred Pennyworth stiffened and shook his head. "It's not that I'm ashamed of you child... it's just that there is too much chaos in Gotham. I don't want you involved if you don't have to be."

Luna Lovegood nodded thoughtfully as she studied her squib relative. There were new lines etching his face, sweat beading his skin near the hairline, sure signs that things were very wrong.

"I understand. How can I help?"

His expression was very serious. "Luna, I want you to make a magical vow to never speak of what you will see and hear tonight. Or of anything you may conclude from your observations. Please."

It was the please that did it. Alfred Pennyworth was a squib and well aware of the consequences of broken oaths. It had to be very important for him to make such a request of her.

Cold logic and common sense prodded Luna to say no and leave but familial loyalty and curiosity urged her to say yes. Underneath her Ravenclaw tendencies Luna both compassionate and loyal. So she said the only thing her conscience would allow her to say: Yes.

Ten minutes later she was wishing she had followed her common sense.

Uncle Alfred had taken her down several hidden passageways, stairs and back doors, under the mansion, into a large natural cave that was filled with Muggle equipment and devices she had no clue about and finally down a specific path and into one a particular room.

It was brightly lit with several cots covered in white sheets. Metal cabinets and cupboards ran along the length of the walls. The waist-high expanse of granite countertops were interrupted by sinks and equipment made of shiny metal and colourful plastics. There was a faint sterile, disinfectant, bleached smell. Underlying it was the bitter tang of something wrong, a persistent itch, a magical poison in its advanced stages. If she had time curiosity would have drawn her to explore the room in more detail, however the single occupant of the room, the man lying on the farthest cot needed her help.

He was dressed in close fitting grey pants and black boots. His torso and arms were bare, forearms and hands covered with heavy black gloves with odd thorn-shaped fins along the outside. His head was covered by a dark fitted cowl and half-mask covering all of his head and neck but the chin and lower half of his face.

Hesitantly she reached out and touched his bare bicep and 'pushed' herself into him for a quick diagnosis. She could feel the muscles quivering beneath her hands, the heat and tainted moisture pouring from him. His lungs were straining, his heart was racing at an unimaginable pace. It was too much. He was dying.

She did not bother with seeking and getting permission before starting. Time was of the essence. She had to do a thorough examination and diagnosis to determine the exact nature of the poison before beginning treatment. Her hands moved fluidly, drawing out the tools and vials of potions and various compounds, casting diagnostic spells and counter charms, spelling the contents of vials directly into his bloodstream for faster effect, stabilizing and reinforcing his collapsing systems.

Once she was satisfied he was in no danger of dying in the next twenty minutes she set about refining her diagnosis. The cause was easily determined by a Healer of her calibre: magical poison. But he was Not a wizard. She could not detect any trace of a magical core within in. Subtle protection charms from many different beings and old 'tainted scars' from magical enemies. But for someone to use Maleficient's Bane on a Muggle... Luna swallowed hard. Her patient had dangerously powerful magical enemies.

"Who is he Uncle?"

Alfred Pennyworth started but recovered almost seamlessly. "He is Batman."

Luna glared at her relative. She loved him dearly but she was in no mood to risk being drawn into conflict with an unknown enemy.

She repeated her question. "Who is he Uncle? How did he get poisoned? Maleficient's Bane is a very rare and expensive. He must have really angered whoever poisoned him." Her eyes were very direct. "Who did it?"

The elderly butler hesitated before answering. "Circe."

Luna inhaled sharply. The Immortal Greek Sorceress was infamous in wizarding society. She was not a Dark Lady (killing and destroying indiscriminately), but she was dangerous and utterly focused on her own personal goals; no matter who suffered as a side effect of her choices.

"She was attempting to steal an Amazon relic on display at the Metropolis Natural History Museum and did not take kindly to being stopped."

Luna frowned slightly. "By him?" She touched her patient gently.

"By Batman." Alfred confirmed.

Luna nodded thoughtfully as she began her preparations to neutralize and drain the magical poison.

"Who is he? I mean, who is he really?"

There was a long pause before he responded. "He's a hero."

"And he came to you?" Her voice was rich with scepticism. "I've read about these masked vigilantes. He would not risk exposing his true identity. You've known him for a very long time, probably long Before he even became a vigilante. Who is he really?"

He did not answer. Luna did not take it personally. If Uncle Alfred had answered her question without hesitation he would not be the man she loved and trusted, the secretive quiet man who was so very protective of those he called kin.

Kin. Pale grey-blue eyes widened in shock as fragments of past conversations and facts began to float through her forebrain.

"Master Bruce is a very intelligent and resourceful young man."

"He spent seven years wandering the world looking for answers."

"It is quite unfortunate no one really knows the real Master Bruce. He is not the disreputable playboy so often portrayed in the media."

"He is very fond of extreme sports."

"He is recovering from a nasty water skiing accident."

"He is travelling on business."

"We have another addition to the household, a young boy named Master Richard Grayson."

"Master Dick is a very curious and resourceful boy."

"Master Bruce has a new charge. Jason Todd."

"Master Jason is dead. Gang activity."

"Master Bruce has decided to foster another young man. Tim Drake."

"I wish Master Bruce would slow down."

Her voice was a breathy whisper.

"He's your employer isn't he? That Muggle businessman Bruce Wayne."

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Batman blinked slowly and coughed harshly. The fire burning in his veins was finally receding. Until now it had been impossible to consciously operate past the agony. His usual pain management techniques had been all but useless. He looked around; he was in one of the medical suites installed in the Cave but there was no sign of Alfred. The faithful retainer would always be nearby whenever Batman dragged himself back to the Cave after a bad run in... he could not determine how long ago it was. Where was Leslie?

"Al-fred." His voice was a harsh raspy croak.

"He's stepped out to pick up some ingredients," an unfamiliar British-accented female murmured from somewhere to his right.

Batman froze. He opened his eyes and looked around frantically. Yes he was in the medical rooms in the Cave. And there was an intruder standing two feet away. Close enough to reach out and restrain her. If he had the energy to.

Pale ash blonde tresses twisted into a loose braid dangled over the front of her right shoulder. Wide grey-blue almost silvery eyes set in a heart-shaped face with delicate features studied him intently. A full passionate mouth pursed in a small O as she leaned towards him. Batman absently noted she wore no makeup or perfume, only the basic aroma of lavender scented toiletries surrounded her. Very old fashioned.

"Luna? I couldn't find any Giselda Nettle seeds or Iria Bleeding Heart sap. I did pick up some Kingsworm dew and Qubeing leaves. The apothecary said they would be acceptable substitute for most potions."

Batman turned towards the primary exit. Alfred was here. Carrying a canvas bag.

Luna moved towards Alfred with a brilliant smile.

"Both would be acceptable Uncle Alfred. Our patient is awake if you want to talk to him."

"Master Bruce!"

"Alfred!" The reflexive stern warning did not deter his oldest friend.

"Luna already knows Master Bruce. And no, I did not tell her. She guessed."

Luna sniffed. "I did not guess Uncle Alfred!" Her voice was huffy, a direct contrast to her mirth filled expression. "It was a logical conclusion drawn from the available facts and past experiences."

Alfred bowed shallowly. "Of course."

Bruce decided the mask was rather useless at this point and stripped it off. He sighed when cool air hit the moist clammy skin.

"Report Alfred." His voice remained unchanged, low and growly. Batman's voice.

To his shock his loyal retainer looked towards the other occupant of the room.

"Luna? You are more knowledgeable of the situation."

The blonde smiled and began speaking in low reassuring tones. She was clearly used to softening bad news. Made sense if she was a doctor specializing in difficult cases.

"We've neutralized the most damaging components of Maleficent's Bane in your system. Unfortunately Circe used a variant recipe that is more toxic than the standard potion. There are two specific sub-components of the variant potion that we cannot risk removing right now. Your body has already experienced great stresses from the poison and the treatment regime and to continue would cause permanent damage to your body. You need to take this," she reached out and tapped a cut crystal bottle filled with a pale blue fluid. "Four times a day for the next six weeks. And this," this time she touched a bottle of lime green liquid. "Three a day. The bottles are spelled to dose out specific amounts based on your age, weight, and physical condition. Both potions must be taken at least one hour apart to avoid a bad interaction." She produced a bottle green glass pot and added it to the other two. "If you have any aches do not use any of your Muggle remedies. Use this salve to avoid an interaction."

Bruce glared at the female. "Will. Not."

She looked at him with patient tolerant eyes. "Not going to follow my advice?" She shrugged. "Fine then, don't. Suffer a relapse and a mini stroke. I don't think you'll be able to chase down criminals when you're suffering from muscle spasms and prolonged oxygen deprivation."

He glared at her. "Okay I'll take your bloody poisons."

Luna did not take offence. "Potion, not poison," she corrected him blandly before turning to Alfred. "Please make sure he takes his potions at regular intervals. Any missed doses will set back his recovery."

"Of course."

"If he is not back to his usual self by four weeks contact me and I'll drop by to have a look. Otherwise his usual doctor can monitor his progress. Oh, and make sure he eats plenty of protein to help rebuild the damaged tissue."

"I will Luna."

Bruce watched Luna hug Alfred before vanishing out of the doorway. Then he squirmed under Alfred's patient tolerant expression.

"Who is she?"

"Luna? She's my grandniece." Alfred ignored the glare and continued to speak calmly. "She is also a wand witch and licensed Healer from one of the traditional wizarding enclaves in Britain. When Miss Prince confirmed it was a magical poison I asked Luna to stop by and take a look at you."

"You should have contacted Zatanna," Bruce grumbled.

"Miss Zatarra is a wonderful magician but she is not a medical specialist. Luna is." Alfred picked up the bottle of pale blue liquid, pouring the contents into a spoon. "Now take your first dose Master Bruce."

Bruce resisted for a brief second before conceding and swallowing the potion. He wondered if he could pick up a few of these bottles that poured out pre-set amounts of liquids. Something like that would be very useful in his after hours activities.

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TBC... Review, Review, Review

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Summary: The first time he grudgingly accepted her help she was surprised. AN: LJ community 5-fics. #05/2 What & #07/2 Hex

~ooOoo~ ~ooO Part 2 Ooo~ ~ooOoo~

"What are you doing?"

Mr Wayne stiffened but he didn't turn around. He was more interested in whatever he was doing than answering Luna. Curious she looked at the charts and lists of numbers and jumbled letters, the lines of text being displayed on the flat glass panels before repeating the question. "What are you doing?"

He ignored her and shifted to re-examine the data being displayed on another flatscreen panel on the other side of the primary over-sized work station.

Luna was not put off by his silence and off-putting demeanour. She'd faced worse and he would not harm her. Not if he wanted to remain on Uncle Alfred's good side!

Humming cheerfully she proceeded to cast several diagnostic spells on her patient, being very careful not to affect the expensive electronics close by. She was very pleased by his progress. It had become a habit to stop by every week he had been poisoned by Circe, just to confirm there were no undesirable side-effects from his experience. For the usual man or wizard it wouldn't matter but someone near constantly being subject to high-stress situations and intense physical exertions would have to recover perfectly.

He glared at her and dodged half-heartedly, trying to avoid her wand, the range of her diagnostic spells.

"What are you doing?" he growled though he already knew the answer.

She grinned inwardly as she answered, just like she always did.

"Diagnosis charm. Just making sure there are no traces of the poison. It should be completely clear of your system in another three weeks."

"So will you stop dropping by uninvited?" he asked snidely.

She put her wand away and ignored him in favour of examining the data displayed on the screens.

"What is that?" she asked curious, her eyes tracing the lines on the graph display.

"None of your business," he grumbled turning away from her.

She watched as he manipulated the data, recalculating the numbers with small variations and then redisplaying the data. She waited until his focus had returned to what he had been doing when she arrived. Then she stepped close and spoke softly.

"What are you doing?"

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It had taken all of his training not to jump when she had first spoken. Batman was furious. He made people jump, not the other way around.

She did not respond to his attempts to drive her away either. Very much like her uncle.

He did not reveal any of these thoughts as he turned around to face Luna Lovegood. He studied her in silence trying to figure out just how she managed to evade his trained senses. He had fought and tracked down magic users before but none had managed to evade and fool his senses like before.

If she had been an enemy… but she wasn't. Her expression was open and oddly earnest as she repeated her question.

"What are you doing?"

He stared at her noting her placid unyielding expression. Definitely like Alfred.

Begrudgingly he gave in and began explaining his latest case. She listened without comment or prejudice, occasionally interrupting for a clarification. At her request, he pulled up the medical files for the victims and watched as she re-examined the medical MRI data.

After five minutes she turned to him and made an unexpected announcement.

"This looks like a hex."

Batman blinked. "A what?"

"A Hex. A type of spell typically meant to cause a degree of pain and discomfort. It's a minor kind of dark magic, darker than a jinx but less than a curse," she explained. "They also tend to have lasting persistent effects."

Batman tamped down on the urge to scoff. He had fought aliens, demons, and magic wielding villains in addition to the run-of-the-mill metas and regular lunatics.

As though sensing he was giving the explanation serious consideration, Luna Lovegood continued.

"You said it yourself, you could not find a reasonable scientific explanation for the repeated incidents of 'bad luck' being experienced by the victims. But you did record traces of atypical energies at each victim's home and workplaces. Just ask one of your magical colleagues to check the scene for you. They should be able to dissipate the magic as well."

He leaned back in his chair and studied the silvery-haired blonde witch.

"You aren't offering to do it yourself?" He wasn't quite sure why he taunted her like that.

She merely smiled, not indicating any offence taken. "You don't trust me, at least not for criminal cases. And you are right because I'm not trained for criminal investigations. If you need magical help I can introduce you to Hermione; she is an investigator for the DMLE, a magical equivalent for a CSI."

He stared at her. She did not break and look away first.

"I might take you up on that," was the only thing he said before looking away.

Luna smiled inwardly and walked away. He was getting used to her! She was certain he would be more agreeable to letting her help soon enough! She almost skipped towards the set of stairs leading up to the Manor. She wanted to talk to Uncle Alfred before leaving. She hoped he had made jam tarts for tea today.

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TBC... Review, Review, Review

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Summary: When he asks for her help she is pleased. AN: LJ community 5-fics. #07/1 Spellbound & #05/4 Where

~ooOoo~ ~ooO Part 3 Ooo~ ~ooOoo~

Batman watched Luna Lovegood listen to his briefing with a curiously focused expression. He knew the details of the case inside and out and was thankful for it because his attention was being almost continuously side tracked by the miniscule changes in her expression, the slight furrow creasing her brows, her usually round pale grey-blue eyes narrowing, her full unpainted lips pursing into a small O before flattening together… Mentally he shook himself and redirected his attention away from her appearance for the seventeenth time.

When he finished with the conclusion of his debriefing he waited for her response. He was surprised to hear a very succinct and accurate summary.

"So this meta-human criminal Poison Ivy has most of the low-level criminal enforcers in Gotham spellbound. She is using them to cause havoc in Gotham, distracting the police and you from her activities."

Batman nodded. "Yes. In the past I've used a special antidote to neutralize Poison Ivy's spellbinding pollen but this new variant is resistant to my usual formulas."

"And you're having trouble synthesizing a new antidote."

"Yes. The new pollen variant breaks down very quickly once exposed to air."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Okay then. What do you need from me?"

"I want your help to develop an antidote."

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Luna was shocked then pleased by his request. He was starting to trust her! She beamed.

"So where do you want us to meet?"

He gaped at her. "Excuse me?"

How curious. Luna wondered just why Uncle Alfred's employer tended to repeat himself around her. Wasn't her question clear enough? "Where do you want us to meet?"

He glowered. "You are going to stay in the Cave and wait for me to return with a sample."

It was quite off-putting and scary when he was wearing the cowl. Luna wasn't too concerned; she had been threatened by Death Eaters wearing scarier masks. She smiled up at him, her expression clearly indicating she thought his orders were silly and half-witted.

"You said it yourself Mr. Wayne, the pollen breaks down quickly when exposed to air. I need to be present when she releases a batch to get a sample and do an on-site analysis."

He glowered at her but said nothing; her reasoning was foolproof.

Deciding not to push her luck too far, Luna looked away, conceding in the struggle of wills, before continuing. "I can stay some place not too far, wherever you think is best. Once Miss Ivy has left you can let me know it is safe."

He grumbled softly but conceded. Luna refused to acknowledge his patent reluctance and mentally reviewed what she would need to do an on-site analysis.

"So do you want me to dress up in a sneak suit and mask?"

He gaped. "Excuse me?"

She really had to have a talk with Uncle Alfred about his employer. Poor Mr. Wayne was too easily shocked and distracted. Just how did he survive so many years as a Muggle crime fighter if he was so easy to surprise?

"Should I wear a tight black suit and hood? I presumed you don't want anyone to be able to identify me."

He frowned. "I don't want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Most criminals know anyone wearing a dark suit are either other criminals or my associates and will attack."

She smiled, a patient tolerant expression. "It's very sweet of you to be so protective but I can look after myself. If anything goes wrong I can just Apparate out of there." He frowned. "If it makes you feel better I can use a glamour to hide my appearance," she offered.

He considered her offer before shaking his head. "You can borrow one of the unmarked suits. It will provide more protection in case you are attacked."

She glowered. "I can look after myself Mr. Wayne."

He growled softly. "That's another thing. Call me Batman whenever I'm wearing the suit."

"All right then. Batman." There was a small pause before she continued. "So where do you want to meet up?"

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TBC... Review, Review, Review

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Summary: This time she helps with a 'non-work' related issue. AN: LJ community 5-fics. #07/3 Illusion & #05/3 When

~ooOoo~ ~ooO Part 4 Ooo~ ~ooOoo~

Bruce hurried up the stairs from the Cave. The League mission had taken longer than expected and he was running late for his own party. If it was anything but a charity fundraising event -that he was personally hosting in Wayne Manor- Bruce would have sent his apologies with a big cheque.

Thankfully he had already showered in the Cave and dressed in the tux and shoes Alfred had pressed and left in the small bedroom he used during long and difficult cases.

Mentally he ran through a check-list even as he reviewed the messages on his mobile planner. He frowned noting several messages marked urgent from Tim, Dick, and Alfred. But if it was something truly urgent, Bruce was certain Alfred would have left a message with the Watchtower monitor on-duty. Still, he was a little concerned by the high number of messages. He hurried to the primary kitchen looking for Alfred.

The butler was not in his usual abode. Bruce retreated and made his way to the Grande Ballroom. Alfred was most likely there, supervising the catering and decorating crews hired for the evening.

Bruce pushed the heavy doors and stepped into something completely unexpected. The heavy restrained elegance of the ballroom, the gothic carvings, dark stone, and panelled wood had been transformed into classical pillars, white statuary, and clean lines.

The Master of Wayne Manor was taken aback by the thoroughness of the decorating crew. He did not remember Alfred mentioning anything about using a Greco-Roman theme for the party. Slowly he walked down one length of the room then across the other. The decorators Alfred hired had done an impressive job. The marble columns looked almost real. Curious Bruce reached out and touched one white column.

His eyebrows rose as his fingers sank a few millimetres into white and before touching the familiar textured surface of granite. How on earth-? With a more serious focused look and greater care he re-examined the Ballroom more thoroughly concentrating on touch. The only reasonable explanation Bruce could come up with was holograms. The League did have heavy duty holo-emitters they used in their practice simulations but nothing truly large-scale And portable. The most sophisticated portable holo-emitters in Sol system were limited in range to less than ten meters.

Quickly he examined the ceilings, looking for such emitters, and failed to find any. Where the emitters themselves somehow hidden?

Concerned he turned away intent on locating Alfred and finding out exactly what had been done to the Grand Ballroom.

And he nearly walked into Luna Lovegood who was standing just two feet behind him. He cursed himself internally, for yet again failing to detect her.

"Do you like it?"

He blinked confused. "Excuse me?" His voice fell into the lower ranges of Batman's growl.

Unfortunately it did not affect her. She merely gestured around. "Do you like the décor? It's an illusion you know."

That threw Bruce for a loop. "What?"

"Uncle Alfred asked me to set it up, to cover the damage from the attack."

Bruce went cold. The messages.

"What attack?" he growled, controlling the urge to roughly press her for more details.

She frowned clearly confused. "You know, the skull demon ninjas."

Skull demon ninjas? Bruce could list off more than a dozen of Batman's enemies who could be classified as ninjas but they were not Bruce Wayne's enemies. "What ninjas?"

"Uncle Alfred said they were from the League of Shadows."

Ras al'Ghul. Demon's Head. He was one of the few who knew Batman's true civilian identity.

She looked more concerned now. "You did not know?"

He shook his head. "Alfred left a lot of messages but no details. I just got back from an extended mission."

Luna nodded firmly. "I don't know all the details but the attack practically destroyed the Ballroom and exposed some of the hidden aspects of the Manor, including passages into the Cave. There wasn't enough time to get a trusted crew in to repair and redecorate so he asked me to help. I transfigured and charmed rough repairs so no one would stumble into any holes or exposed passages. I also used an illusion to cover up the damage because I'm not strong enough to do large-scale permanent and detailed transfiguration.

If he had nerves that were any lesser than what they were, Bruce would have collapsed. While he was off planet, far from his beloved city, his home had been attacked, his private sanctuary and secret lair almost violated.

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Luna was feeling slightly concerned. A normal person, Muggle or mage, would have shown some reaction. Mr Wayne's face had not changed, did not change even after hearing the extent of the damage. The passageways were not easily breached; they had been designed to be protected by layers of stone and metal, to be undetectable. The attack had been deliberate and designed to pierce those vulnerabilities.

Luna vaguely remembered Uncle Alfred mentioning the Manor had been burnt, destroyed before. She was certain Mr Wayne would have rebuilt to prevent anything like that from happening again. And it nearly had when he was not in his home.

For someone so fiercely protective, possessive, and paranoid… it would be a hard blow.

"When did this happen?" His voice was steady, too cold, too calm.

"Three nights ago," Luna murmured. "You were already off-planet and out of range. Mr Drake and Mr Grayson did a wonderful job of containing the damage. The League fled when it was clear they could not achieve their objective. Luckily the explosions were muffled and not too loud. Uncle Alfred did not call the police because the damage exposed some of the back-up hidden rooms and direct passageways into the Cave.

"He would not have called me if it wasn't for the Charity Event. There wasn't enough time to change the venue on such short notice, not without good reason. Robberies, gas leaks, fire hazard, plumbing leaks… all of them would involve investigators from the city and the insurance companies. So he asked me to help cover and fix the obvious holes. And to redecorate for the party," she added wryly.

He stared at her. Luna resisted the urge to fidget.

"How long did it take you?" he asked finally.

"Most of yesterday and today," Luna admitted. "I'm too tired to do anything but eat and sleep."

He nodded slowly. "Do you have to get back immediately?"

Luna shook her head. "I told my supervisor I had a family emergency."

"Will anyone try to find out where you went?"

Luna was not surprised by his question. He was the type to cross all his i's and dot all his t's. "As far as they know the only family I have left is from my maternal grandmother in Norway. I portkeyed to Norway before buying a portkey chain to Boston via Canada. I Apparated to Gotham from Boston."

He nodded slowly, absorbing her answer.

"Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You can use your usual suite. Just let me know when you have recovered and are ready to leave."

She nodded wordlessly. It was what she had planned on doing.

"Just let me know how much the portkeys cost and I'll refund it." She opened her mouth to protest and was cut off. "Don't fight me on this. You know I can afford it." She closed her mouth and nodded. His expression softened a tad. "Thank you."

Luna couldn't stop the soft flush suffusing her cheeks. "It was nothing," she mumbled looking down at her toes.

"No," he corrected, "it wasn't nothing. You dropped everything to help me."

Her head shot up, eyes wide. "How could I not? You have helped and will help so many people. How could I say no when your life and work was endangered?"

He was quiet, clearly surprised by her response.

Feeling unexpectedly courageous she reached out and touched his face.

"Everyone needs a little help sometime Mr Wayne."

He raised his hand to cover hers on his face. "Bruce," he corrected.

She blinked and nodded shallowly, tugging her hand free. "Bruce," she acknowledged softly.

Luna wasn't quite sure what had just happened but she was certain nothing was going to be quite the same going forward. When she got home she had to talk to somebody. Someone good at keeping secrets… Someone who would understand… When she got home she needed to talk to Minerva.

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TBC... AN: Luna's previous visits were pre-scheduled and taken during her planned days off (like weekends, etc) with travel arrangements handled by Alfred (paid by Bruce). People are more likely to ask questions when they notice a break in someone else's routine so Bruce is a little worried. Review, Review, Review

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Summary: Minerva McGonagall is surprised, then pleased. AN: LJ community 5-fics. #07/4 Blessing & #05/5 Why

~ooOoo~ ~ooO Part 5 Ooo~ ~ooOoo~

Dark blue eyes darted around discreetly as Bruce followed the short, rotund witch dressed in patched but neat brown-green robes. He was very aware of the animated paintings, the two-dee observers watching him. He wished he had picked up a few robes to fit in, but he had not expected so many witnesses. The school was closed for the summer, the only occupants and witnesses Bruce had expected were the staff. But he did not let it affect him as he looked back, making his own silent observations, keeping track of his steps. If he had to, Bruce was certain he could get out of Hogwarts on his own.

His guide came to a stop in front of a gargoyle. "The importance of being earnest." The gargoyle jumped out of the way to reveal a set of stone stairs. Without hesitation the witch stepped on the bottom most step. Bruce did not jump when the stairs started moving upwards. Probably the magical equivalent of a motion-sensor escalator. Gracefully he followed and waited as the stairs took him to a higher level.

When he stepped off he found himself in a warm welcoming room decorated in good-quality but slightly worn furnishings. Bookshelves lined two walls, a large floor-to-ceiling window leading to a balcony dominated the third. In the middle of the room was a large oversized desk and leather chair. In front of the desk were smaller chairs, some stuffed and some not. Sitting behind the desk was an older stern-looking woman wearing square lens gold-framed spectacles. She looked up from her paperwork and put down her quill.

"Mr Wayne." She rose and moved around the table to hold out a hand.

Bruce reached out gripped the slender aged fingers and bowed over it. He could see she was surprised by his gesture.

"Headmistress McGonagall."

She cocked her head to one side. "How may I help you Mr Wayne?" She smiled a thin wintry smile. "Luna mentioned she would be bringing a Muggle friend for a visit. I had not expected you to make your way to Hogwarts alone." She arched a brow. "May I inquire just how you accomplished this feat?"

Bruce responded with a thin wintry smile of his own. "Portkey. Rented a reusable one to Hogsmeade from Gringotts."

She nodded slowly, her expression more thoughtful. "Ah. So how may I help you?"

Bruce resisted the urge to fidget. He did not like asking favours without having some leverage in the first place – usually in the form of a large corporate donation – but Luna had insisted he not use his usual tactics, to be up front and genuine. And Luna did matter so he decided to try it her way. If it didn't work the equivalent to a fat cheque should.

He hesitated for a brief second trying to decide the best way to say it. What he had rehearsed seemed too contrived to go well with the sharp-eyed witch standing before him.

"I'm not sure how much Luna has told you but she considers you an honoured aunt."

The stern implacable visage softened.

"All of my students are important to me Mr Wayne. Some, like Luna, are more special." One corner of her mouth twitched in a small smile. "She is one of the few whose correspondence I truly look forward to receiving. Most of my old students only contact me when they need help or advice. Luna is kind enough to correspond on less… weighty matters. It is a welcome respite from my usual duties. In fact," she cocked her head to one side, "how she talked about you interested me." Her expression turned stern, almost reminding Bruce of Alfred. "I know you might not be familiar with our ways but I can tell she's fond of you Mr Wayne. For someone raised in the Old Ways like Luna it is not something she would take lightly."

Bruce bowed his head. "And I am… attached to her as well," he confessed.

Minerva McGonagall blinked and moved back to lean against the edge of her desk making a 'go on' gesture.

Feeling more secure he continued. "I am not entirely ignorant of your traditions. If her parents were alive I would be talking to them right now." Bruce was strangely satisfied by the dawning realization in the witch's eyes. "I am asking for your Blessing."

"You mean…"

"I asked Luna to marry me and she has said yes. It would honour us if you would perform the Blessing at our binding ceremony."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Minerva McGonagall was vaguely aware that she was gawping. Without realizing it she found herself sitting in a guest chair drinking a cup of tea prepared by Luna's young man. Thank Merlin she had asked the Elves to prepare a tray when Pomona had informed her of their unexpected visitor. She struggled to pull herself together, reconcile what she had heard, with what Luna had told her, what she had read in the Muggle papers and what she had observed with her own two eyes.

Bruce Wayne was a very wealthy Muggle businessman. An American billionaire who could easily make any wealthy pureblood look like a pauper. He was also well-known for his playboy lifestyle, fast women and careless habits. The rumours did not quite fit the man sitting across from her. But even if the newspaper gossip were creations of a Muggle Rita Skeeter, he was nothing what Minerva would have imagined for Luna.

Then she remembered the letters, the visits, the shy confessions that Luna was interested in someone, someone she met through a relative in America. Her sad resignation that he would never see her as something more. Then weeks later her joyful expression when confiding he had asked her out. Then just weeks ago Luna had visited and confessed she was certain about her Muggle boyfriend, that he was the one. She wanted to marry him but was afraid to press and force him into making a choice.

Looking at the watchful calculating eyes of the Muggle Minerva signed mentally. Nothing could push this man into an action he did not want to take. The Muggle reporters were fools if they could not see the steel in this man.

Firmly she redirected her wandering attention to his request. He was asking her to act as Luna's family, in place of her parents. She placed her cup down on its saucer and lifted her eyes to meet his squarely.

"Tell me Mr Wayne, why should I do that? Why should I give my Blessing to your union?"

"Because he cares about me."

Both seated occupants turned towards the doorway.

Luna Lovegood smiled cheerfully as she hung her cloak up on one of the hooks near the fireplace and walked towards the chairs. She paused beside Minerva and bent low to brush a kiss against the elder witch's cheek.

"Hello Minerva."

She smiled cheerfully at her old Headmistress as she straightened and then walked towards the other occupant of the room.

Minerva could not completely hide her smile as she watched her old student sit sideways on the American's lap, leaning back against him and resting her head on his shoulder. He did not look startled or discomfited by the public intimacy. One large hand cupped her shoulder pinning her against him. It was a familiar action.

Luna smiled broadly, curling into the broad frame of the man behind her. Her head shifted to catch Minerva's eyes.

"Bruce may be rather tight with his words but I have no doubts about his feelings for me. He shows his affections for me through actions, not words."

"I don't trust easily." Minerva was a bit surprised by the unexpectedly deeper voice. "I don't know how it happened but I trust Luna. She accepts without condition or hesitation, just like her uncle. Alfred Pennyworth is technically an employee but he raised me when my parents were murdered. He was the only one who supported my choices without question, like Luna."

Minerva had to look away. The way they were looking at each other was too raw, too intimate. She coughed discreetly to bring them back.

His expression turned blank though the warmth in his eyes remained as he continued.

"I know I am taking enormous advantage of her, by asking her to marry me because I can't let go. She's become a part of my life, like Alfred. I can live without her but I'm not sure I'd really want to. For a long time my life was focused on the past. Luna helps me see each day anew, without the sorrow of old memories and regrets."

Minerva could see he was being honest. And Luna did want to marry him.

"Very well then Mr Wayne. I will perform the Blessing at your binding ceremony."

He smiled, relaxed now that Minerva had agreed. "Please call me Bruce."

Minerva nodded sharply. "Very well then. Bruce. And you may call me Minerva." She cocked her head inquiringly. "Do you have a rough date in mind?"

They glanced at each other, communicating wordlessly. Then Luna turned to her.

"Do you have any plans for the first week of August?"

Minerva smirked. "Don't worry about my plans. I can reschedule." She smiled more broadly. "Let me know if you need any help with the arrangements."

Bruce Wayne laughed softly. "No need. The goblins have made several recommendations. They've signed confidentiality contracts as well."

Minerva nodded firmly. "Good." She glanced expectantly at Luna. "Would you like to give your young man a tour of the castle? Dinner will be served at seven in the Great Hall."

Luna nodded. "Thank you Minerva. We'll take you up on both."

She shifted off his lap and stood up, and waited for him to rise and follow.

As Minerva watched the two of them leave she felt quite pensive. Bruce Wayne had hidden depths. And many secrets. But from what she saw he was open with Luna. That made her feel more reassured about their impending union.

She turned around and opened her planner, making a note in the month of August. There were many preparations that had to be completed before the binding ceremony and she did not have a lot of time to spare. Thank Merlin Luna's young man was comfortable with hiring professional help. Minerva enjoyed attending weddings, not planning them.

The Headmistress of Hogwarts smiled a small catlike smile as she wondered if twelve or fifteen years down the road Hogwarts would welcome and Sort a new American student with the surname Wayne.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

The End. Review, Review, Review

Crossovers100, IY/FMA - Tale 3 (PG - Kagome)

2011-08-21T15:45:38Z

Title: Crossovers100, Tale 3
Author: sarhea
Fandom: InuYasha, FullMetal Alchemist
Rating: PG mainly
Characters/Ships: Kagome, Edward, Roy, Alphonse
Summary: A series of interconnected drabbles concerning Kagome's experiences in the FMA universe. May eventually evolve into a full story with plot linking the drabbles.
For: crossovers100
Disclaimer: Not Mine.

[043. Square] Angular Arrays

Edward Elric frowned as he watched the strange girl carefully paint a series of odd Xingalese looking symbols on narrow strips of paper.

"You know, you could help me by copying the sutras."

The Fullmetal Alchemist started. She had not even looked up to acknowledge his presence in the workroom. He moved to sit at ninety-degrees, watching her work as he set out a calligraphy brush, and sheets of expensive rice paper and a Xinglese-style ink stone.

First he watched her work. Once he felt familiar enough with the process he wet the ink stone and prepared the ink. Carefully he dipped the brush in the dark liquid and traced out the symbols using one of her finished strips as a guide.

They worked for forty minutes carefully inking narrow strips of rice paper with angular, blocky symbols that seemed too alien to Ed with their straight lines and right angles. Each symbol looked like a little square box that was cut into various geometric shapes by lines and angles.

Once two dozen strips were finished Kagome stood up and walked to a side table to prepare a pot of tea. When the liquid had finished brewing she poured two cups and prepared one with honey only for Ed while she drank hers without any flavouring.

"What next?"

Kagome glanced up at him over the rim of her cup. "We wait for the ink to dry."

And they did. A second cup of tea and a variety of biscuits later both returned to the table and collected the strips of paper Kagome called sutras.

Ed bounced on his toes. "So? So? Are you going to do it?"

She looked amused by his impatience. "Yes I am."

Ed punched his fist in the air. "Yes! Where do you want to draw your array?"

Kagome made a soft annoyed sound. "Edward, how many times must I tell you, I do not draw and use arrays as you Alchemists define them!"

Ed made a scoffing sound. "Until you come up with a better name I'll keep calling them arrays."

The black-haired woman glared at him but it did not dissuade the teen. She sighed and did not bother trying to correct him.

He followed the not-Alchemist out into the fenced-in courtyard and watched her pin the strips of paper on the large corkboard set-up at her request. Each strip of paper was aligned in a particular manner, at right angles so certain symbols were next to each other. When she was done the corkboard looked like a lattice, a grid work with irregular holes, squares angles and rectangles jumbled together like some abstract art.

Ed frowned. "This isn't going to work. It doesn't make any sense!"

"It will." Kagome's voice was certain.

"It's too rigid! Too square! There is no logic, no channel flows, no resonance, no amplification!" Ed waved his hands wildly.

"There are." Kagome countered calmly. "They are just in a form you are not familiar with."

"But all Alchemy uses circles! These are lines and rows and squares!"

And he cowered when Kagome lost patience and snapped at him. "Just try it!"

Desperate to avoid finding out first hand if she had a wrench of doom –like Winry– Ed quickly touched the left most rice paper strip on the corkboard and channelled his power into it.

He didn't expect the strip of paper to absorb his power and act as a conduit to spread it through all the strips, for the symbols inked to start glowing blue, for a three-dimensional lattice of energy to 'grow' from the corkboard and expand out, surrounding the space around them, encircling them in a 'cage' of crisscrossed blue energy ribbons that resembled a net made of squares.

Ed stared at the very scary female smiling smugly at him. "Told you it would work."

Masterpost: Serendipity (Hermione/clone!Jack - PG13)

2011-08-21T14:35:13Z

Title: Serendipity
Author: sarhea
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Stargate SGC
Categories: Crossover, xover, Drama, Adventure, Friendship, Romance
Rating: PG-13 mainly
Ships: Hermione Granger, clone!Jack O'Neill
Summary: They walk in two completely dissimilar worlds, have very different skills and conflicting philosophies. Their paths should never have crossed. But it has. How on Earth did that happen?
For: 20_fics
Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione Granger or Potterverse. I do not own mini-Jack or Stargateverse.
Status: Complete, As of June 4, 2011

Table | Part 1 | Part 2

Big Bangs & Exchanges

2011-08-17T01:52:14Z

I've done it again. But I can't complain... signing up for these really gets me motivated to Finish! So here's are the current projects on my plate...
hermione_smut - sign ups closed - fic due oct 15 - 100%, just need to betaed
startrekbigbang - sign ups closed - fic due oct 15 - 80% complete, needs to be betaed hgcrossovers - sign up end aug 24 - fic due nov 1

hgcrossovers - sign up sept 1-30. final fic due will be out march next year - 40% done, needs to be betaed

I also have my on going projects - crossovers100 and 5_times

Wish me luck!

Minato's Mentor 4/4 (Hermione/Minato - R)

2011-06-14T01:23:07Z

Title: Minato's Mentor - 04
Author(s): sarhea
Rating: R, for intimacy, nothing graphic, in last scene
Categories: Harry Potter, Naruto, Crossover, xover
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and co, were created by J.K. Rowling. Namikaze Minato, Naruto and co, were created by Masashi Kishimoto. I don’t own any of the characters, concepts, verses… This story was written for fun, not profit.
Type: Gen, Het, romance, drama, action
Acknowledgments: Kristen my wonderful encouraging beta reader who is the epitome of positive constructive criticism.
Author’s Notes: See the Masterpost for full details. AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; EWE. AU Narutoverse since Hermione meets Minato long before he became Hokage and that Changes Everything. Butterfly wings flapping in Asia.
Last Edited: June 13, 2011. Will be edited and re-posted

Summary: The Council relearn just why easy-going Minato was chosen to be Hokage. Then Hermione wakes up and makes her own plans.

~ooO 04 Aftermath Ooo~

Every protective instinct screamed at Minato to lunge forward and defend her. But he did not because it would invalidate the Challenge. If he interfered the Kyuubi would use it as an excuse to rampage destructively. So he restrained his bone-deep fears and watched and waited and listened.

He watched her duel the bijuu in a humanoid form. He waited as she beat her opponent back relentlessly. He listened to Kyuubi's concession and the resulting negotiations.

Once the oaths were freely sworn and the Kyuubi vanished Minato felt some of the tension lift. But only for an instant.

The odd sword with its sinuously wavy blade fell from her hand and landed on the heat glazed dirt with a sharp tinkle.

"Mia!"

He was moving the moment he realized she was falling. He caught her before she hit the ground, twisting and shifting her so she fell against him. Her eyes were closed.

"Mia, don't you dare! Don't you dare die to get out of our agreement!" His voice was harsh and urgent. "Stay with me! I need you. We need you."

He could see frothy blood bubbling up and seeping out the corners of her mouth. Her head lolled freely to one side.

Minato was frantic. "Rin! Kakashi, get Rin! Any medic!"

"I'm here Yondaime-sama."

It was a female ANBU medic wearing the Neko-mask.

Minato allowed her to man-handle him aside and to move Mia onto a stretcher she had produced out of a storage scroll. She was silent as she ran through a series of diagnosis jutsus. Too many for Minato's comfort.

"What can you tell me? I can't sense anything wrong with her chakra system."

"You won't. She didn't use chakra." Minato explained bluntly.

The ANBU froze. She had seen the unconscious woman duel the Kyuubi. How…?

"She uses a different type of energy. Consider her case as something similar to a chakra-pill toxin overdose. She took several potions and medicines to augment and amplify her body and power for the duel and now her systems are going into shutdown. Stabilize and keep her alive long enough for her body to heal and recover. Once she is past the first critical twelve hours she will be fine."

Neko nodded and began using a different set of diagnostic jutsus, ones designed for civilians or genins with immature chakra systems. Under her mask she frowned as she began cataloguing the self-inflicted toxin and cellular damage. Delicately she used her own chakra to reinforce and stabilize the autonomous circulatory and respiratory functions and was pleasantly surprised to see the Yondaime was correct. The cellular damage was being repaired at an incredible rate. But not by chakra!

"This is truly remarkable." Neko was astounded. "Her healing factor-."

"Is classified!" Minato's voice was iron hard. "You will not take any blood, hair, fluid, or tissue samples. Kakashi will be accompanying you to the hospital." He turned to his grey haired student. "You and Rin will take shifts until I can get to the hospital. You have my backing to enforce my orders to the fullest extent!

Kakashi stiffened. "Hai, Yondaime-sama!"

Neko bowed her head and complied. "Hai, Yondaime-sama."

Minato turned to Jiraiya who had been watching silently. "Come on sensei, I need to talk to Sarutobi. Keep the civilians in the bunkers for now and have medics triage and treat any wounded. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Jiraiya nodded wordlessly and turned to the watching, listening nins. The Gama Sannin inhaled deeply before opening his mouth to bellow orders.

"All right there! I want genin teams one through five to clear-."

Minato vanished in a flash. He wanted to go to the Hokage Tower and hug his son.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Minato never got around to relieving Jiraiya in-person. Sarutobi reminded him the village needed him to maintain order and to provide leadership. The shinobi could handle the clean-up and make-shift repairs, help set up shelters and tents as needed. But only Minato could deal with the clans and guilds, the Council and the Daimyo.

Minato wished he could fire half the Council and kill half of what was left. It would definitely lower his headache and stress induced tension. Half the time they were repeating the exact same thing in minute variations, each voiced with a slightly different slant designed to benefit the speaker and his/her faction.

His anger and rage built as he listened to the escalating chaos and increasingly louder demands from those seated around the table. Most were understandable; they wanted to know what happened, how it was resolved, who was the foreign kunoichi who battled the Kyuubi and if she was going to be joining Konoha's shinobi ranks, how the clean-up and repair efforts were going to be organized and paid for, how those suffering losses would be compensated. Then finally some foolish civilian spoke and made demands that pushed Minato over the edge.

"She clearly has some kekkai genkai and is not part of any other Hidden Village or she would have been listed in the Bingo Books. Since she is not a Konoha citizen she is not subjected or protected by Konoha laws. I propose the medics harvest her eggs and have embryos implanted in loyal Konoha-."

The Councillor was cut off when the Yondaime Hokage grabbed the back of the obese man's neck and drove his face down into the table surface.

Laser sharp blue eyes glared around the wide oval table and up the gallery rows.

"The next person to voice such an obscene suggestion will be killed." His voice was calm, unnaturally so. His chilled gaze promised death to the next unwise speaker.

No one dared to speak. The Yondaime released his grip and moved at normal walking speeds to his seat at the head of the oval table.

"Tokami clearly lacks the wisdom to be part of this Council. I cannot tolerate anyone who makes quick judgment and offers solutions without even bothering to research and investigate the issue of concern being part of this Council that is responsible for all of Konoha. His seat will be filled by another from the Textile Guild."

No one dared to protest Tokami's demotion. The Yondaime's logic was valid, making snap decisions based on incomplete or zero information was foolish when the decision affected more than just your family or clan. All members of the Council were expected to give each issue their full attention before making recommendations or casting their vote.

The Yondaime moved to stand behind his high-backed chair and glared around the room. "None of you have any information regarding the woman who Saved Konoha! And you dare treat your saviour like-." The Yondaime sputtered incoherently and glared at the Sandaime who coughed delicately.

"What Yondaime-sama is trying to explain is that the woman whose bloodline you are trying to steal is a valued ally. Far more valuable than you Tokami-san." The Sandaime's usually grandfatherly visage was hard and just as steely. "She has resources and abilities no Hidden Village can hope to match. And she also has the skill to find out exactly how each and every one of you are thinking of using her." He smiled cheerfully. "I'm certain Yamanaka-san here can attest to that."

Everyone turned to Yamanaka Inoichi who winced and nodded.

"Hai. I do not know the full extent of her abilities but she can easily detect, neutralize and rebound my clan's mind-walking jutsus." He shuddered slightly. "I do not want to be the target of her rage."

"You have met her." Hyuuga Hiashi spoke neutrally.

Inoichi nodded. "Hai." He glanced hesitantly at the beatifically smiling Sandaime. "Shikaku and Chouza… We were introduced to her."

"And why not us?" Uchiha Fugaku wanted to know. He did not like being left out but since Hiashi was not in the know the Uchiha Clan Head was fairly certain it was not a deliberate snub directed to the Uchiha.

"There was no time." The Yondaime's response was succinct. Then he expanded. "I was not certain if my message would reach her in time, but it did and she arrived when the Kyuubi was sighted outside Zone Four."

The area outside Konoha's walls were divided into five zones, one being between the walls and the edges were the forest began, and five the outer most band actively trapped and patrolled by ANBU and other Konoha nins on rotation.

Fugaku nodded slowly. "And may I ask of your relationship with her? You seem to have known her for a while and yet you have never brought her to the Council's attention before now."

Minato smiled acidly. "Because I know most of the Council are idiots like Tokami or power-hungry short-sighted bastards," He glared at Shimura Danzo. "And I saw no point in having my relationship with her ruined because of a few fools." He ignored their offended expressions. "You would sign off on a black-ops mission to capture and interrogate Mia and she would leave a trail of corpses before vanishing. That is if she bothered leaving anything we could identify." He smirked. "Let me put it this way. She has the power to Force a Bijuu to listen and bargain. She battled the Kyuubi to a standstill and forced non-violence vows against her and any land she and her kin chooses to live in. What makes you think you can succeed were a force of nature failed?"

Danzo glared. "She is only one woman-."

"Who is far more dangerous and inventive than Tsunade-hime." Minato corrected blandly as he sat down. "Since you seem to be deaf let me say it clearly. She taught me far more about fuuin jutsu than Jiraiya. I got the idea for Hiraishin from something she can do. She went over my early experimental designs for Hiraishin and gave suggestions on how to make them more compact and efficient. She has no trouble permanently neutralizing anyone she sees as a threat. An army of shinobi cannot keep her out of any stronghold or estate she targets. You cannot hold imprison her and hope to keep her under control. She will bring the entire structure down upon her captors before escaping. You may succeed in drugging her for a short while but eventually she will break free and dedicate herself to your slaughter. Controlling her is like binding storms; a foolish impossible endeavour. The best you can do is redirect it."

The Clan Heads nodded thoughtfully at the Yondaime's assessment.

"Will she be joining the ranks of Konoha shinobi?"

The Yondaime smiled blandly. "Absolutely not. She has no interest in being a mercenary subject to the whims of a Kage and Council."

Several expressions fell. A kunoichi of such skill and talent refusing to join? What Hidden Village had trained her?

Their Hokage heard the question and answered. "No village on the Elemental continent. Her homeland is far beyond the Western Waters."

That threw everyone off. No one had ever managed to prove that there Were other lands beyond the Western Waters. No expedition sent had ever returned. After decades of failures all the daimyos and villages turned their focus inward, to lands they knew existed and could travel to.

"Her arrival was an accident, a much more advanced variation of Hiraishin. Unfortunately she did not have an anchor and she cannot return. She can't even tell us how far away her homeland is. After trying to return for a few years she gave up. The Elemental Continent is her home now." His expression was very bland. "She finds Hidden Villages and shinobis very barbaric and short-sighted. Sometimes I find myself agreeing." The Yondaime's comment set off a rumble of grumbling. He ignored it and continued. "And there are times when I see evidence of the Will of Fire and it reminds me why I wanted to be a Konoha shinobi, why I trained and pushed myself, to become Hokage."

That set off a thoughtful silence as everyone absorbed the Yondaime's words.

Hiashi bestirred himself. "If she is not planning on becoming a Konoha kunoichi is she planning on settling down in Konoha?"

Minato hid his smile. "Actually yes."

That set off a frenzy of speculation. Every Councillor and Clan Head present were making plans on introducing themselves to the not-kunoichi and arranging her to meet with suitable single men. From their own clan of course.

Minato pretended to not see the calculating gleams as he continued. "She has grown quite fond of Naruto, and he of her. It is quite reassuring since he will be calling her Mother until he is old enough to be told of Kushina."

That tidbit of information was enough to make the mental schemes of several plotters to come to a screeching halt.

"Mother?"

The Yondaime blinked slowly, an action mimicking a giant predatory feline. "Oh, didn't I mention it? Sarutobi married us soon after she arrived." His expression turned steely. "Namikaze Mia is my wife and subject to Namikaze Clan Law and my personal protection. This is a marriage in every sense of the word. I will not tolerate any interference and attempts to divide us. I will not tolerate any slights or attempts at blackmailing or coercing Mia either. I will stand aside and watch as she turns everyone involved into drooling babbling idiots."

He added the warning hoping it would stick. He doubted it would. She would have to demonstrate her ability and willingness to enforce her threats for it to have any effect. He stood up.

"Sarutobi-sama will provide you with the details on the clean-up and repair efforts. A schedule will be posted for any contractors interested in submitting a bid for the more major repairs. Anyone seeking compensation must submit a claim with documented proof, notarized copies and/or witness statements from all parties involved." He moved towards the door. "I will be leaving now as I have a wife and son to check-up on. I will be in the Tower tomorrow morning at seven."

As he walked out of the Council Meeting room everyone present knew Everything had changed. Namikaze Minato was no longer just a Double-S, flee-on-sight, Kage-ranked nin. With the addition of wife and child he was doubly lethal and far less forgiving of threats, external and internal.

There were the usual short-sighted malcontents but the more shrewd individuals considered the changes and addition of another Kage-ranked warrior to Konoha's population. Namikaze Mia had refused to join the shinobi ranks but she had clearly demonstrated her willingness to fight and defend those she cared for and considered as family and home. It was very clear she had fought and defeated the Kyuubi for the Yondaime, for Namikaze Minato, for her new husband and step-son.

The balance of power in Konoha was shifting and the more intelligent were determined to be on the right side of the lines being redrawn when it settled.

Hiashi and Fugaku stood up and approached the Nara-Akimichi-Yamanaka trio.

"Tell us everything you know about Yondaime-sama's new wife."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hermione groaned and shifted. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut to block out the bright light. She heard/felt someone approach.

"Namikaze-sama?" A slightly high-pitched female voice inquired softly.

Hermione refused to open her eyes. "I'm here. Where is Minato and Naruto?"

"Yondaime-sama is in a Council meeting. Naruto is here with me. Oh! My name is Watanabe Rin. Yondaime-sama was my jounin sensei when I was a genin."

"Rin. Oh yes I know. Minato said you had trouble focusing when you were younger."

Hermione opened her eyes just in time to see the brunette teenager blush hotly. She pretended not to notice and instead focused on shifting to rest with her torso angled slightly off the bed against the pillows. She noticed a wicker basket nestled against the wall beside the chair Rin was seated on.

"Naruto?"

Rin lifted the basket and brought it over to the bed.

Hermione brushed her fingers against the sparse blonde curls and stroked the plump cheek. He was sleepy and content. She shifted slightly and lifted him out of the basket, and cradled him close, wincing when the action tugged at an IV drip in the back of her left hand.

Rin efficiently adjusted the tubing and re-checked the hypodermic needle.

"You can remove it in two hours." Hermione informed the kunoichi. "My core has stabilized. I am thirsty now."

Rin nodded. "I'll get you some ice chips." She moved to the door and peered outside. "Kakashi, get some ice chips from the nurse's station." She ordered her old teammate who was standing guard just outside the private hospital room. Then she returned to Hermione's side and smiled. "He'll be back with the ice."

Hermione was impressed. Minato's old student was clearly dying of curiosity but she was minding her manners and giving Hermione privacy and personal space.

"What do you want to know?" The older woman asked with a wry smile.

"Too much." Rin admitted. "I can wait until you are fully recovered."

"That's nice of you Rin-chan." A familiar cheerful masculine voice interjected.

Both females turned to the source of the voice: Namikaze Minato.

Hermione could not help mirroring the broad smile on his face, holding out one hand towards him. In less than a second he was standing beside her, gripping her outstretched hand, lacing his fingers with hers.

"Don't do that to me."

Both ignored Rin making a discreet exit to give her old teacher and his new wife privacy.

Her expression was very solemn. "I can't promise that."

Minato sighed. "I know." His expression turned wry. "I guess it's a good thing then you aren't going to be an active duty kunoichi." Then it soured. "But then only times you are going to fight are when things are beyond bad."

"It was the same in England. I fought when I had no choice. I always will."

"I don't suspect you'll tolerate me assigning ANBU bodyguards." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Quite correct. They can watch from a distance and trail me if they can but don't expect me to obey any orders from them. Or anyone else in this village unless I respect and trust them."

"Understood." He brushed a kiss against her forehead and was silent.

"How did they react?"

"Just as you imagined. I put my foot down on certain individuals and schemers and gave you carte blanche to act as you see fit. Feel free to turn the more persistent threats into drooling idiots."

Brown eyes were gem-hard polished orbs. "Oh I will."

"In case you are trying to hide I've only told them that you are from Outside the Elemental Continent and was a valued ally before we married. Inoichi will be circumspect but most will deduce you have abilities similar to the Yamanaka mind-walking jutsus. And what they saw when you limited and duelled the Kyuubi."

Hermione froze. "My sword!"

"It's safe." Minato was quick to reassure her. "I used the wrapping silk to carry it off the field and stored it, your bag, and leather armour in the Hokage Vault."

Hermione relaxed. "Thank you."

Minato shifted to squeeze onto the edge of the bed and wrap his arm around her. She allowed it, turning her attention to the baby cradled in her free arm. His son. Even though he wished Naruto was Their child he did not regret his relationship with Kushina. His time with her was something he would remember and share with Naruto when he was older and able to understand. But then again Naruto was Theirs. Hermione was fiercely protective of those she loved. And she was clearly attached to Naruto.

He forced himself to focus on the reason why he left the Council meeting early.

"Mia-chan."

"Hmm?"

"I know you said you don't want to be a Konoha kunoichi, but how do you feel about being my advisor?" She looked up at him, brown eyes sharp. "It will be an unofficial position for the first year or so while the Council gets used to you but right now I'm more inclined to listen to your suggestions than theirs."

Hermione looked troubled. "I'm not sure Minato…"

Minato suddenly understood her concerns. The same ones that kept her out of Konoha in the first place. She did not want to owe loyalty to a system.

"Would you prefer if it remained unofficial?"

Her expression brightened. "Hai!" Her eyes were solemn as they met his. "I will be loyal and helpful to you, perhaps Naruto, and most definitely any children if we have them, but I will never trust a bureaucracy, or government agency. I will Never trust groups of individuals motivated by purely political and practical concerns."

Minato nodded. "I understand and accept." He brushed a chaste kiss against her forehead. "I really do."

Hermione heaved a sigh and turned her face to rest her cheek against her new husband's shoulder. For the first time since she arrived in the Elemental Countries she felt as though she had finally found a place she could call home. Vaguely she wondered why she had resisted so hard for so long before discarding the thought. It was over and done. The future to come was what mattered.

Oh she did not expect it to be smooth sailing from here on out. She and Minato would definitely have differences of opinion, over politics, ethics and raising Naruto, but at the end of the day Hermione was certain they would never go to bed angry with each other. Minato was not the type to hold grudges and Hermione had seen too much to not empathize with his point of view.

She was suddenly struck with the realization she was a married lady and yet she had never Really kissed Minato. She reared back.

"Minato?"

"Hai?"

"Would you kiss me?" He blinked confused. Wasn't that what he had just done? Seeing his confusion she hastily clarified. "I mean Really kiss me."

Understanding dawned before he promptly complied with her request.

He was a very good kisser. Correction, he was a superlative kisser.

Her toes were curling and uncurling, heat building between her legs, a tight knot twisting at the base of her belly.

When he finally lifted his mouth from hers she gasped.

He smiled down at her. "I think that is enough for now. You aren't fit for-."

"No!" She hastily tugged at the IV needle. "Get Rin in here! I don't need the IV any more. And I'll sleep more soundly in a private warded house."

Minato chuckled. "In that much of a rush?"

She glared up at him.

"It's been almost eight years since I've had a lover! Sex toys are great but they are no substitute for having a real person in bed with you!"

Minato blinked taken aback by that bit of information. "Eight years? Why so long?"

She chewed on her lower lip and looked around before finally meeting his curious eyes.

"When I… let go it affects the room around me. Things float or explode. Or catch fire. Or change shape. Or-."

He chuckled softly. "I look forward to seeing that in person." His expression turned more serious. "Are you sure you are recovered."

She nodded firmly. "I want to get out of this hospital. I don't feel safe now that I'm awake and aware."

Minato nodded. Most high-class nin felt the same way and escaped from their hospital rooms as soon as they were able.

"I'll get Rin." And then he left the room before returning with his old student.

~o~

Rin's expression was knowing as she did a quick check, removing the IV, proclaiming Namikaze Mia as fit and mobile, and signing the discharge papers.

She watched the Yondaime's wife look deep in his eyes before murmuring something in some foreign tongue, presumably her native language, something the Yondaime understood. She adjusted her grip on Naruto, closer against her chest before wrapping her other arm around the Yondaime. And then all three vanished with a soft pop! There was no yellow flash indicating the Hiraishin. Rin added the question to the list she was tallying up for the expected conversation/sharing.

Deftly she stripped the linens and redid the bed with fresh sheets before giving the room a quick once over. Happily she skipped out of the room with the used linens.

Kakashi must be starving by now, she mused, perhaps he would be interested in a take-out dinner. They could go over their list of questions for Minato-sensei. Perhaps they could have lunch tomorrow with Minato-sensei and his wife.

With that thought in her mind her voice sang as she exited the private hospital room.

"Kakashi, do you want to pick-up some dim sum and stir fried chow mein for dinner?"

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Rin never got to have lunch with her old jounin-sensei and his new wife the next day, like she had originally planned. In fact the Yondaime sent a message to Sandaime-sama asking him to look after any urgent Hokage matters for the next few days.

It was five days before the Yondaime and his new wife finally emerged from his apartment and discovered the entire village was celebrating the Yondaime's marriage and the Kyuubi's defeat. Without the guests of honour being present.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

The End.

Review, Review, Review

The End

Minato's Mentor 3/? (Hermione/Minato - R)

2011-06-14T01:22:14Z

Title: Minato's Mentor - 03
Author(s): sarhea
Rating: R, for violence
Categories: Harry Potter, Naruto, Crossover, xover
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and co, were created by J.K. Rowling. Namikaze Minato, Naruto and co, were created by Masashi Kishimoto. I don’t own any of the characters, concepts, verses… This story was written for fun, not profit.
Type: Gen, Het, romance, drama, action
Acknowledgments: Kristen my wonderful encouraging beta reader who is the epitome of positive constructive criticism.
Author’s Notes: See the Masterpost for full details. AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; EWE. AU Narutoverse since Hermione meets Minato long before he became Hokage and that Changes Everything. Butterfly wings flapping in Asia.
Last Edited: June 13, 2011. Will be revised & reposted

Summary: Hermione makes her requirements clear and Minato creates options for her. She makes her choice and meets a trio of Konoha jounin. She then proves bijuus are no match for Hermione Granger, especially when she has a little help from a certain Founder.

~ooO 03 Choices & Battle Ooo~

Hermione appeared in the midst of chaos. None of the nins running around noticed her. She was just one civilian among many making their way to the bunkers. A notice-me-not charm allowed her to trail some of the nins dressed in black with white porcelain masks painted to mimic various beasts.

They were ANBU and Hermione was surprised they had not detected her. It must be really bad for them to be so focused on just one aspect of their surroundings.

"Where is Yondaime-sama?"

"He is in the Tower going over his strategy."

"How long do we have to hold the line?" The bird ANBU was definitely less experienced and sounded more nervous than the bear ANBU.

"As long as he needs us to, Tori-san. As long as he needs."

"Kumo! We've got a countdown and location! Twenty minutes near the Western Gates."

The bear ANBU stiffened. "You heard Neko-san. Let's move!"

Hermione was torn between following the ANBU and tracking Minato down. It did not take long to make her choice. She needed to see Minato first. She cast a few additional spells to hide from the Fuuin jutsu wards. The Tower was almost deserted.

She pulled out her wand and cast a basic spell.

"Point me Namikaze Minato."

The wand spun crazily before pointing up.

She followed it up several flights of stairs, down several corridors, past offices and meeting rooms until it finally angled to point directly at an imposing looking door.

It was warded by Privacy Seals she had taught Minato and easily by-passed.

She hesitated. She wanted to help. She did not want Minato to die. She did not want innocents to die either. But she also wanted to protect herself. There was one underlying fear beneath all the petty ones: the fear of being enslaved and abused, forced to do things against her will, raped and interrogated for her secrets. If Minato could protect her from that she was willing to sacrifice her privacy.

She pushed open the door. There were only two occupants, an elderly man with wispy hair and a goatee dressed in battle armour and a baby wailing softly in a reed basket.

Despite his age he reacted swiftly, drawing out a chakra-laced staff.

"Identify yourself!"

Hermione ignored the order. "I need to find Minato."

~o~

Sarutobi Sasuke glared at the unknown civilian. He did not recognize her and given how she had somehow breached the Tower security she had to be some sort of enemy agent.

He moved to attack her and froze. He could not move! Even his chakra felt thick and heavy, immobile as his muscles!

Naruto cried harder.

The enemy kunoichi murmured something in some unknown tongue as she crossed the room to Naruto.

Where were the bloody ANBU? Yes there was a bijuu approaching Konoha but surely a junior two-person team would have been assigned to guard the Tower? Any enemy sleeper agent could have taken advantage of the confusion and chaos to infiltrate and steal Konoha secrets.

He wanted to scream as she bent down to lift Minato's son from his basket. She hummed something in that odd language, rocking him against her chest. The baby's wails turned into hiccups then soft snuffles and chortling giggles. Sarutobi watched as she adjusted her grip on Naruto and turned towards him. She was dressed in a civilian-style cotton yukata covered with scarlet and saffron flowers printed on pale green. On her feet she wore lace-up sandals with ribbons wrapped around her ankles and lower legs. Her light brown hair was slightly damp and curling wildly around her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes were a soft velvety doe brown, yet hard and unrelenting.

"I need to speak to Minato. Where is he?"

If Sarutobi could speak he would have pronounced his defiance very vocally. But he couldn't so he simply glared. He hoped Minato would find the supplies he needed quickly so he could return and stop her.

His brain stuttered when she smiled slowly.

"He will be back soon. I think I will wait for him to come back."

Sarutobi glared. How did she-? Was she a bastard child from the Yamanaka clan? Or some other village with a similar kekkai genkai? He could not budge an inch so he simply waited and hoped for the opportunity to act.

He sensed Minato's approach. So did she. She stopped rocking Naruto and turned towards a particular corner etched with the sealing array for Hiraishin.

Minato appeared in a flash of yellow light. He dropped the bags he was carrying when he saw her.

"You're here…" He was beside her in three quick strides, embracing her tight, trapping his son between the two of them.

If Sarutobi could face-fault he would have. Minato knew her?

The younger man pulled back so he could see her face. "I didn't know if you'd get my message in time." He confessed.

"I nearly didn't. I packed very fast and apparated across half the continent."

Minato nodded slowly. "I'm glad you are here. Could you please check my calculations. And suggest any changes-."

"Minato!" Her tone was aghast. "I'm not going to help you commit suicide!"

"I don't have a choice!" Minato snapped back. "If the Kyuubi isn't stopped we all die!"

She looked faintly disappointed as she scolded him gently. "Minato-kun, what is the first lesson I taught you?"

Minato's expression turned sheepish. "There is always an alternative. Even if it is an unpalatable one." He mumbled.

"You have others now that I'm here."

The younger nin's expression turned hopeful. "So you'll help?"

Her expression was hesitant. "Minato…" She clearly appeared torn.

His successor's expression turned very sober and serious. "I swear you will have my personal protection Mia. You will never be forced into anything as long as I am alive. And if I die I swear I will get Jiraiya and Kakashi to protect you."

Mia made an odd gesture, flapping her free hand at Minato. "Yes, yes. Men are very good at making promises and forgetting them. Remember, you asked Me to look after your son because you don't trust Them to be responsible dependable adults!"

Minato grabbed at his hair, tugging at the yellow strands. "Then what do you want?"

"A guarantee that lasts even after your death." Her response was blunt and unflinching. "You are a skilled shinobi Minato but you have many enemies, inside and out. I want nothing to do with that vipers nest you call a Council!"

Sarutobi could see his successor's mind working through the restrictions.

"There is always a possibility of conscription if you are a citizen or resident. Unless you are part of a shinobi clan and your Clan Laws forbid it." Minato murmured absently.

Mia nodded sharply. "Then find a clan with such laws to adopt me."

Minato shook his head. "It is not so simple as that Mia. Adoption is usually the precursor to marriage into the clan. Shinobi clans, especially ones with kekkai genkai rarely adopt for any other reason."

Mia's expression was very sober. "I have an idea to stop the Kyuubi; it is drastic but I'm pretty sure it will work. If it doesn't I'll be dead and you'll still have your fall-back plan, the Shiki Fuuin. But if I live your Council will rip me to shreds demanding what they have no right to… I will not act unless you can protect me."

Minato nodded soberly. "I understand. Give me ten minutes to think of something."

She nodded shallowly. "Okay." She glanced down at the child she held. "What about Naruto?"

"Can you hang onto him? While I'm looking into this?"

"Of course. I'll be next door preparing." She smiled wryly. "I have faith you'll find a clan willing to adopt a gaijin."

He nodded dumbly. She turned to leave the office. Just when she reached the door he recovered his senses and called out.

"Mia!"

She stopped and turned. "Yes?"

"Can you please release Sarutobi-sama?"

She glanced at the retired Hokage who nearly buckled and fell when whatever force locking his muscles and joints vanished without a flicker of chakra. She did not hesitate to turn away and hurry out of the room.

Sarutobi glanced at his successor. "It seems like you've been keeping secrets from us, Minato-kun."

Minato did not flinch. "Of course I have Sarutobi. Just like you and every other ninja."

The former Hokage sagged at that rebuttal. Then he rallied. "Who is she?"

"A friend. An ally who I'll trust at my back over any Village Council member or advisor." Minato added acidly.

Sarutobi had so many questions but they didn't have time. If they survived this perhaps he would have his curiosity sated. So he focused on the immediate issue. "You trust her?"

"Without a single doubt."

Sarutobi put his formidable intellect to work. This unknown civilian woman most likely had an emerging kekkai genkai or an unknown skill set. Skills that would be greatly desired by any Hidden Village if she could do as she claimed and successfully stop a bijuu. If she was successful he could see the Council demanding she join the shinobi ranks, or be pressured into marrying a loyal shinobi and having children who would be grow-up and be Konoha nins.

"If she succeeds no clan will be satisfied with a simple adoption." Sarutobi spoke calmly as he went over the issue. "They will want her kekkai genkai to become theirs, her skills to be taught to their children."

"Mia will not tolerate that and frankly I agree. Her skills are too dangerous to be taught to all the adults of even one of the smaller major shinobi clans."

"Then perhaps we are looking in the wrong direction."

Minato frowned. "What do you mean Sarutobi? Only major clans have Clan Laws that restrict what activities their members are permitted to engage in. And to be honest Mia will never tolerate being bossed around by the likes of Fugaku or Hiashi. Or those conservative hide-bound Clan Elders."

"Your comments on Clan Laws are not entirely accurate Minato. All clans have internal rules but only clans with a seat on the Shinobi Council can enforce them legally. Usually these seats are limited to only the major clans but there are occasions when very small clans are given a seat. Usually for some great feat. The Hatake clan was given a seat when Sakumo's prowess on the battlefield helped Konoha win the Second Shinobi War. Jiraiya and Orochimaru were given seats when Hanzo named them Sannin. Tsunade already had the Senju seat. The Sarutobi clan was given a seat after I became Hokage."

Minato froze. "The Namikaze seat. I almost forgot I have one."

Sarutobi inclined his head. "Yes. The clan consists of just you and your son now but it is still a clan with a seat on the Shinobi Council."

Minato nodded, his eyes distant and focused on something internal.

"Namikaze Clan Laws are non-existent. I can write something up that will stop the Council from laying their hands on her. As the Clan Head I can adopt her as my sister."

"Do you really see her as a sister?" Sarutobi inquired mildly.

Minato froze. "What do you mean?"

"That hug was too serious for just friends. And you allowed her to walk out of here with your son. In fact you asked her to look after him; you chose her over Jiraiya and any other Konoha shinobi."

The younger man was clearly torn.

"Just think about it before making your offer. If you adopt her as a sibling, one day you will have to watch her walk away, maybe even to another man."

Minato bit his lip. "She only sees me as a friend." He confessed. "I practically begged her to move to Konoha, even as a civilian but she just laughed and refused. Kushina was there and she saw Minato. She made me feel like I was more than a Hokage and perfect shinobi. She was not afraid to smack me down when she disagreed with something I said or did. She reminded me of Mia."

Oh Minato. Sarutobi wondered how he could have missed this.

"I cared for Kushina but we both knew it would not last forever."

Sarutobi weighed the odds, the pros and cons, Minato's potential unhappiness versus a huge boon to Konoha.

"What are you willing to risk?"

Minato pressed his lips together and focused on scrawling the basics for a set of Clan Laws designed to protect the Clan against external influences. As he wrote his focus was split between what he was writing and Sarutobi's last question. What are you willing to risk?

Both men looked up sensing someone at the door.

~o~

Nara Shikaku resisted the urge to duck and hide at the sight of two focused gazes drilling into him. Resolutely he clung to his nonchalant demeanour.

"Maa. ANBU are in position. Inoichi and Chouza are waiting for us below."

Minato's eyes flashed. "Hold that thought. I need you to do something else for me Shikaku." The Nara scion raised one eyebrow inquiringly. "I need you and Sarutobi to witness a few contracts for me." He grinned morbidly. "Including some amendments to my last will and testament."

Shikaku sobered and nodded as he stepped forward. "Of course."

Once he reached the desk he scanned through the scrolls spread out on the surface covered with drying ink.

Dark brown eyes widened when he got the gist of the contents.

"Namikaze Clan Law?"

"Yes. It needs to be formalized before something else can be done." Minato grinned wryly at his friend. "Congratulate me Shikaku, if I'm lucky I'm going to get married and give Naruto a mother, if not I'll be getting a sister and Naruto will be getting a new aunt aunt-babysitter. And if the Kamis smile none of us will die for a long time."

Shikaku's brain stuttered to a halt. "Yondaime-sama?"

Sarutobi took pity on the Nara and explained. "Minato has a friend who might be able to stop the Kyuubi. However she is unwilling to do it since every single Hidden Village will chase her down to add her to their ranks, including us. Minato has decided to offer her Clan Law protection, by marrying or adopting her into the Namikaze Clan."

Shikaku absorbed the new data. "And who is this paragon who believes she can succeed when all of us have failed?"

"She is standing right here."

Shikaku spun around and blinked at the sight of the woman standing in the doorway.

She was not too tall, her hair was a mass of brown curls restrained into braids twisted and pinned around her head like a crown. Her features more defined than perfect, strong. Wide velvety doe brown eyes set under arching brows, a straight tip-tilted nose, a wide mouth with full sensual lips. Her entire body was swathed in floor-length full sleeved enveloping rust-red robes. She bore a large leather satchel over one shoulder and gripped a long slender black-silk bundle in that hand. Her other hand cradled a lemon yellow blanket swathed bundle that wriggled and shifted ever so slightly. When she stepped forward Shikaku could see her feet were fully covered in boots made of some oddly mottled grey-green reptilian hide.

She gave him a once over and turned to Minato.

"Well?" One dark brown brow rose in a challenging manner as she approached the Yondaime and placed the black bundle on the desk. Sensing Sandaime-sama's curious glance she continued speaking. "Do not try touching the sword. The blade is impregnated with venom and the silk cannot be damaged or removed by anyone other than myself. Those trying to break the protections will feel a great deal of pain." She passed the yellow bundle to the Yondaime. It was making soft snuffling cooing sounds. "Hold onto Naruto." She ordered the tall male standing right next to her.

The Yondaime obeyed and watched as she opened her satchel and produced a baby bottle. All three males and one baby watched as she tapped it with one finger murmuring something indistinct under her breath. The bottle glowed briefly before filling with white liquid. She uncapped it and stuffed it into Naruto's mouth.

She smiled faintly at the Yondaime's bemused expression. "It's just milk. I did enough babysitting to learn a lot of useful household spells."

"Charms?"

"Materna Lacta. Mother's Milk." She spoke in an alien tongue.

The Yondaime nodded, understanding her foreign language. He glanced down at his son who was vigorously sucking on the teat. He shifted the angle of the bottle higher to prevent the baby from gulping down air along with the milk.

"Well? Have you figured out some way to keep your Council off my back?"

"Sarutobi came up with the idea." Minato admitted.

She glanced over at the Sandaime. "Would you care to explain?" She demanded.

The Sandaime coughed slightly before complying. "Minato-kun forgot that the Namikaze were given a clan seat when he became Hokage. Any clan with a seat on the Shinobi Council is considered a major clan and can create Clan Laws that apply to their members."

Brown eyes widened in comprehension. She turned to Minato. "So you're adopting me?" She spoke in teasing tones.

The Yondaime's expression and tone were not. "I will but I'd prefer it if you'd marry me."

Shikaku winced internally. Bad move Minato!

She blinked clearly shocked by the inept proposal. Sensing it Minato hurried to explain.

"It is not a joke. I'm asking you to marry me."

Her expression softened slightly. "Minato, you really don't want me. You're just missing Kushina and panicky about having a baby with no partner. You don't have to worry about that; I won't leave the two of you alone."

Minato shook his head. "That's just it Mia… You will. And it will be my own bloody fault for not making my feelings for you more clear in the first place!"

"I'm not going to be anyone's rebound." She warned.

The blonde smiled wryly. "To be honest if anyone was the rebound it was Kushina."

That rocked both Shikaku and the not-civilian.

"What do you mean?" She asked softly.

Minato glanced at his son who had finished his bottle. He shifted the baby so his front was pressed against Minato's forearm and patted his back.

"I asked you to move to Konoha so we could spend more time together. But you made your views very clear and I had to respect them. I could not offer any guarantees of protection like I can now. And if you're wondering about Kushina, I was lonely. I had become Hokage and decided to stop inviting you to visit since it could be taken the wrong way. You seemed happy with just communicating through letters so I was resigned to it. Kushina was there and she distracted me from my worries. I really thought we could make a go of it but she saw we were better off as friends."

Mia closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "You certainly picked a wonderful time to share your feelings with me." Her voice was laced with sarcasm but her expression was gentle. She reached up to touch his cheek. "I've felt the same way for a while but I've always known Konoha was first on your list of priorities. And becoming Hokage was your dream. I could not act or interfere no matter how badly I wanted to. I forced myself to detach." She bit her lower lip. "But you have to understand… feelings are no guarantee of a successful relationship."

"Feelings can't hurt. And we are friends; we respect and trusted each other long before other emotions became involved. I'm willing to give you as much time as you need."

She nodded slightly. Then her eyes narrowed. "One more thing Minato, we may agree to marry, and we may have an intimate relationship, don't ever expect me to become pregnant unless I feel absolutely comfortable and secure in this village. I will Not risk becoming vulnerable in the middle of potential enemies."

Minato nodded solemnly. "I understand. Naruto will be my heir."

Shikaku felt he had to say something. "Minato! You always dreamed of having a large family!"

Minato smiled wryly. "And now that I'm Hokage of a village under the threat of imminent destruction I'm so paranoid I'm unwilling to let Naru-chan leave my sight. Mia has very good cause to be cautious and if she doesn't feel comfortable there will be very valid reasons. It will be my responsibility as Hokage and husband to eliminate them." Shikaku nodded dumbly. The blonde Hokage turned to the silent elder shinobi. "Sarutobi, would you please perform the ceremony?" He turned to Shikaku. "Please bring Inoichi and Chouza up. I'd like them to witness it and some amendments to my will."

Shikaku nodded dumbly and exited the room to locate his old teammates and let them know of the latest news. Their Hokage was getting married to a gaijin. And Shikaku still did not know why Minato trusted her. He trusted her so much he was practically scraping his old plan in favour of one proposed by someone Shikaku knew nothing about.

~o~

Hermione glanced up at Minato. She still could not believe this was happening. She almost expected to wake up at any moment in Room 215, Sunshine Inn, Hasu Midori.

She absently wiped the curdled milk spit-up around Naruto's mouth and from Minato's sleeve. A minor cleansing charm removed the stains and smells. She slid her arms to take the baby up while Minato went over the contracts with the Sandaime.

Just when they were writing out the final draft the nin returned with two others, a blue-eyed blonde with long hair in a ponytail dressed in navy-blue and camo-green, and more heavy-set black-haired man in red armour.

Minato looked up and nodded. "Good. Come in and close the door." He ordered before making introductions. "Mia, you can mostly depend on these three. Nara Shikaku. Yamanaka Inoichi. Akamichi Chouza. I'll introduce you to Jiraiya and Kakashi later. This is Grangeru Hermione." Hermione was pleased. He was much better at pronouncing her name than Viktor! "Most call her Grangeru Mia. We are going to be married. If something happens to me she will have custody of Naruto. If both of us die Jiraiya and Kakashi will look after Naruto." His eyes were steely and unyielding. These were proclamations, not an invite to debate.

Hermione glanced around to take in the reactions. Sarutobi was calm and accepting. Shikaku resigned. Chouza and Inoichi were confused and wary.

She froze and slammed down her Occlumency barriers. She glared at the Yamanaka.

"Get Out Of My Head!" She screamed.

Glass and porcelain around the room exploded into tiny shards.

~o~

Inoichi flew across the room and slammed into the wall, pinned against the surface, struggling and failing to break free. A soft strangled sound escaped the Mind Walker as his limbs twisted and stretched and strained under the pressure of some other force.

Shikaku cringed. He could suddenly see why the Sandaime was so accepting and supportive of this marriage. He had not sensed a single chakra flare up. Even now he could not sense the strings that had to be holding Inoichi up! If Mia-san ever had children they would be most formidable shinobi. How could one stop an attack that could not be seen or sensed, an attack that comes out of nowhere?

He watched as small electrical sparks flared out from her hair, colliding violently and destructively against various surfaces in the room making the baby she carried laugh. He watched Minato approach her without hesitation and touch her shoulder. He watched her turn and look up at the Hokage. He watched her expression soften and the rage faded.

The sparks died out and Inoichi fell to the floor with a loud thud. He groaned and shifted before pushing himself to his feet. The injuries were not dangerous or incapacitating.

"I apologize." His blonde teammate spoke quickly bowing down from the waist. "It was rude and I had no orders to do so."

Dark brown eyes narrowed. "Exactly!" She snapped sharply. "You did it because you were curious! Because you could not believe or understand what you were hearing! That there was no way Minato would trust a civilian to look after his son and heir! You believed Minato was being manipulated and sought to prove your theory!" She turned to the Hokage. "This is why I will never trust your Council. If someone with genuine good intent acts so callously, with little regard for a bystander with zero interest in your politics, how would someone genuinely seeking power act?"

Minato winced. "I understand." He glared at Inoichi who winced and shifted uneasily. He turned to his not-civilian fiancée. "And we will examine the issues in more detail. If we survive this night."

She made a soft sound. "Let me worry about that. But first can we get the paperwork done so we can focus on the Kyuubi?"

Minato chuckled wryly. "Of course. I'm afraid I don't have any rings on me."

"Your mark would be an acceptable substitute."

Blue eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

She looked down at the infant she was cradling. "I am."

Minato looked at the elderly man. "Sarutobi-sama… Would you please do the honours and marry us?"

"Of course. Shikaku, Inoichi, Chouza, step up." The retired Hokage looked at the bride. "I'm sorry but this ceremony is going to be very brief."

She smiled wryly. "We'll have a big reception to make up for it."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

The Kyuubi hissed as it battered against the containment barriers keeping it Away from its target. The Uchiha Clan Compound. It reversed and tried to go around at a different angle and flinched as a rarely felt energy reacted violently against its intrusion. Growling it tested and discovered someone had set up a Circle when it had been completely intent on destroying its target.

There was a powerful and skilled Magick wielder in this village.

It paused and looked around trying to track the creator of the Circle.

It growled as its senses fell on a small group of pink hairless creatures between the edge of the Circle and the crumbling stone walls.

All its senses screamed a challenge at the sight of the female pink thing dressed in blood, in Its colours!

"Witch!" It threw itself against the Circle and was repelled. It scrambled onto all four paws and growled. "You think you can trap me like a mortal creature? Face me and learn otherwise!"

The lesser pink things cringed. But not her. She moved forward carrying a black bundle that smelt of venom and death.

"You Challenge me." Her voice was clear and carrying, laced with her Power.

"Yes!" Kyuubi hissed. "I Challenge You Daughter of Nimue!"

"I have never been called that before." She sounded amused. "But I am pleased to be so honoured."

"Then you Accept."

"Only if you meet me on my level." Her voice was even but challenging.

Kyuubi glared. "I will Not!"

"Then why should I?" She countered blandly. "You will simply roll around creating massive undirected destruction. I will spend more time neutralizing the damage than battling you." Her voice was hard challenging. "Face me in a comparable form Kyuubi no Kitsune. Face me directly and kill me if you can. If you do not I see no logic in wasting time so I Will Summon the Guardians of the Hell Gates."

Kyuubi screamed enraged. "You will fight me!"

It was engulfed in a huge bonfire of flames that coalesced and shuddered and shrank into a vaguely humanoid form before fading and revealing a lethally beautiful red-haired red-eyed male dressed in black boots, red hakamas and a black sleeveless vest. His bright red hair was restrained in a high tail, his ears overly large and pointed, fangs pointing over his lower lip.

The female pink thing with flat red fur bowed shallowly and turned to the yellow furred pink thing. Her desired mate given the pheromones both were putting out. Kyuubi huffed. She would not spawn any magick wielding kits once he was done with her!

He watched as she picked up the poison scented black bundle and walked towards him. She paused just outside the edge of the Circle and met his eyes. Kyuubi was reluctantly impressed. Even the overly audacious Thieving spawn of Tengu, Madara himself, had feared to look Kyuubi directly in the eye.

And then she spoke in an alien tongue, her words resonating with power, speaking to him more clearly than any pink-skinned fleshling ever had.

"My name is Hermione, daughter of Jane and Mark, scion of Clan Granger. I Accept your Challenge and will fight you in comparable forms."

And then she stepped over the threshold.

Kyuubi grinned. It was a savage, blood-thirsty expression.

He raised his hands, fingers tipped with sharp curving claws, and slashed downwards.

Hellfire poured out of 'rip' he'd opened to Makai.

He watched gleefully as the witch was engulfed in flames that burned for five minutes at Makai intensities before fading.

And he gaped to see she was completely unharmed.

The flat red fur was gone. Beneath she wore the skins of snakes. Very venomous powerful snakes. The same venom scent that laced the black bundle she held in both front paws.

Warily he waited. Her Magick was strong enough to deflect Hellfire. He was hesitant to test if her offence was just as strong.

~o~

Minato was glad he had resisted the urge to run forward screaming when the Kyuubi had cast blue-hot flames on Mia. It would have been silly now that he could see she was perfectly fine and unharmed by the flames. But that couldn't be said about the ground around her. The grass had been incinerated into ash, the soil heated so hot it had melted into glassy patches in some spots, especially closest to her. The flames had also burnt off the red voluminous robes revealing what she wore beneath.

Reptilian Leather. Her petite -more curvy than lean- figure was poured into very fitted garments made of an oddly mottled grey-green hide that clung to every curve and hid nothing. The pants disappeared into calf high one-inch heel boots made of the same material. On top she wore a tight fitting leather top with a low neckline and over that a long-sleeved fitted coat that flared at the waist and flowed into a skirt that hit the knee.

He watched as she shrugged off the coat and dropped it to one side, to reveal underneath the low-neck leather top was a corset that bared her arms, shoulders, and a large expanse of her front and back. Minato suddenly felt the urge to run forward, this time to cover her in his coat and to hide her eye-catching attributes from all other leering males.

She stepped forward, drawing attention to her hips. Around her waist, over each thigh and her hips was an odd mesh like accessory with loops and buckles holding several tubes and flat pouches. With one hand she loosened the ties holding the black silk bundle together and let it fall away to reveal a two and a half foot long sword with a wavy blade that ended in a sharp stabbing point. The Kyuubi recoiled, putting distance between it and her.

Minato watched as she thrust the blade through a set of loops at one hip and somehow the weapon was secured and resting at her side though it gave Minato hives to see the naked edge brushing against the outside of her thigh.

She raised both hands to shoulder height, palms up.

"Face me as I am!"

And Minato was nearly flattened by the explosion of raw power blasting free.

Several nins were forced off their feet and against the ground.

"Nature chakra."

Minato glanced at Jiraiya and wondered just how much the Gama Sannin had missed.

"No." He corrected mildly. "Magick."

Jiraiya blinked, taken aback by the correction from his old student. "Magick?"

"A multipurpose kekkai genkai. One with very few limits." Minato explained, his focus on the battle taking place within the containment Circle Mia had set up while the ANBU had distracted the Kyuubi.

He watched as intricate markings emerged, almost growing on her skin up from the top of her corset, over her shoulder blades, shoulders and wrapping around her biceps. He wondered just where the markings originated and if they were compressed kanji like most Seals, or something else.

He inhaled sharply as the markings twisted and condensed into solid lines forming images. A pale ice blue dragon down one arm and a deep yellow dragon around the other. The tattoos did not look like regular seals. They looked… almost alive!

~o~

"Dragon child!" Kyuubi was torn between the urge to fight and flee. If he could have fled he would have. He just barely managed to evade the hard, almost earth shattering blows reinforced by more than just muscle and chakra, the Dance of Dragons enhanced by Magick and the elemental powers.

"They have claimed me." She admitted calmly not even breathing hard.

"Why?" Lightening singed the outside of his arm when he twisted to avoid the ice. "You are a mortal! A thief!"

"Do not judge others by your standards Kyuubi no Kitsune." A low feminine voice with hints of Arctic chill whispered.

"Only a dragon slayer can Dance with the Elements! She is only immune because she slaughtered one of your kin and bathed in the blood!"

"She went through the trials and won. She is worthy to be claimed as Ours!" This time a deep masculine voice responded in a voice that crackled and rumbled with hints of thunder and lightening.

She tilted her head to one side. "Do you feel inadequate?" She taunted. "Would you prefer to battle using other weapons since you appear to lack the skill or knowledge to deflect the elements?"

Kyuubi growled. "If I-."

"But you are not." She interrupted blandly. "You agreed to meet me in comparable form. A humanoid physical being."

Kyuubi snarled and created a sword made of flame and youki. And then he leapt.

Only to find she was no longer there. When he pivoted to face her she had drawn the sword tainted with venom and death. And she was much faster and ruthless than Kyuubi could have ever imagined.

It was death by a thousand cuts, only his wounds bled chakra tainted green by that strange venom. Kyuubi had never felt anything like it. He was used to being the one causing and dealing out pain! The cuts were becoming deeper and more painful but not lethal. He was an immortal bijuu after all. But pain was not something he was used to experiencing and handling.

"Are you curious Kyuubi? About why you are feeling pain? Why you are injured?" She asked casually as she danced away, avoiding the wide swing, twisting her wrist to land a shallow long cut along his forearm.

He glared at her.

She just smiled. "This sword is not just any ordinary sword. It was forged and enchanted by Salazar Slytherin himself. Like most ancient powerful weapons it is rather particular about its bearers. I consider myself most fortunate that it likes me. In case you are curious to know, Serpent's Tongue is spelled to be forever sharp, unbreakable, forged of mithril and meteorite iron in dragonfire, and cooled in basilisk venom."

Kyuubi's eyes widened in horror. Even bijuu were not immune to the poison and stone glare of a fully matured basilisk. No wonder the wounds were refusing to seal up!

Now he was frantic to avoid contact with the blade. Unfortunately given his desperation he made a rather obvious misstep.

Salazar's Heiress was fast enough to fully capitalize on it and chop off his hand. The hand holding the sword that promptly disintegrated into a flare of youki and vanished. Suddenly Kyuubi did not want to find out if he could regenerate if his head was cut off by that sword.

"I concede! Just kill that bastard Uchiha Madara and I'll gladly swear any vow you want."

~o~

Hermione was quick to take full advantage of the bijuu's concession and wring every possible advantage and almost no wriggle room vow from it. The vows were designed to have her or scion of the Namikaze clan as intermediary in the event of a conflict. Once the bargain was agreed and sworn upon both parties relaxed a tiny fraction.

"You are as ruthless and cunning as Salazar Slytherin himself." Kyuubi commented.

She smiled sweetly. "I'll take it as a compliment. I find being ruthless and cunning is more sensible than being brave and foolish." She broke the crystal ward stones anchoring the Circle.

The Kyuubi did not bother responding to her comment and vanished.

The moment it did Hermione dropped Serpent's Tongue and began collapsing.

"Mia!"

His arms were around her, cradling her close. She tried to open her eyes and failed. The last thing she could remember before blacking out was Minato's frantic voice begging her to stay with him.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

Review, Review, Review

Next Part

Minato's Mentor 2/? (Hermione/Minato - PG13)

2011-06-14T01:21:39Z

Title: Minato's Mentor - 02
Author(s): sarhea
Rating: PG13
Categories: Harry Potter, Naruto, Crossover, xover
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and co, were created by J.K. Rowling. Namikaze Minato, Naruto and co, were created by Masashi Kishimoto. I don’t own any of the characters, concepts, verses… This story was written for fun, not profit.
Type: Gen, Het, romance, drama, action
Acknowledgments: Kristen my wonderful encouraging beta reader who is the epitome of positive constructive criticism.
Author’s Notes: See the Masterpost for full details. AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; EWE. AU Narutoverse since Hermione meets Minato long before he became Hokage and that Changes Everything. Butterfly wings flapping in Asia.
Last Edited: June 13, 2011

Summary: Minato takes the first steps to becoming a legend and Hermione worries about his safety. As most good intentions go awry, so does their relationship, and they grow apart until a world-shattering event draws them back together.

AN: The concept of paired journals is borrowed from 'Looking for Magic' by Hypnobarb on , a Harry Potter fanfic pairing Hermione and Snape. The plot is intricate and well thought-out; I highly recommended it. Lengthy and a WIP though.

~ooO 02 Blooming Connections and Separate Paths Ooo~

Minato ignored his old jounin sensei and fuuin-jutsu teacher, hovering around his peripherals. The equations and sealing schemata he was working through required every bit of his attention. One mistake could be disastrous. Fatally. Minato knew he was a good shinobi, but the only reason why he lived to be a Grand Seal Master was due to the instruction of a non-civilian woman he met on a solo mission in Tsuchi no Kuni.

"Minato! Are you listening to me?"

Minato ignored the older shinobi and focused on putting the finishing touches of his latest experimental seal design. Jutsus that used hand-seals were generally limited to the physical elements, but using fuuin jutsu, it was very possible to manipulate time and space itself. The most immediate benefit of such a technique was evident to anyone with a brain and strategic sense.

"Sakumo tells me you have been skipping out on your practise spars with him." Jiraiya was honestly confused by his old student. He was more focused on his experiments and research than honing his ninjutsu and taijutsu, skills that would keep him alive on the battlefield. Sky blue eyes looked up, fever-bright with manic enthusiasm. "What's so special about your latest project?"

The vivid features twisted into a smirk. "If I get this to work, it will change everything. It will make the user unstoppable. Konoha will win the Third Shinobi War."

Jiraiya was sceptical. "Minato, many shinobi work to create original jutsus, to create a technique that would make them legendary. The Shodaime's Mokuton jutsus are among the few who can affect a large area and many individuals in one shot, and it's practically a kekkai genkai. What makes you think you can do better?"

Minato leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.

"Because I'm not trying to kill."

That was enough to cause the gear-cogs come to a screeching halt in the sannin's head.

"Excuse me?"

But Minato refused to expand on his off-hand comment, and instead turned his attention to his notes and scrolls. Jiraiya watched, hovering over Minato's shoulder, making comments, pointing out weaknesses, occasionally asking questions that Minato answered in absent distracted tones. It wasn't long before his old teacher gave up on trying to get Minato's and left muttering about foolish inconsiderate students.

Minato put his pen down and flipped his notebook to the first few pages. Each page was covered with a small, neat script, sketches and diagrams representing various concepts and theories he had come up with. These ideas and designs were sparked by discussions and lessons with Granger Mia.

This particular seal was a manipulation of space-time to improve transportation. Minato had been inspired by Mia's explanation of the methods of transportation her people used: apparation, portkey, floo, portals. He did not have magic, but he had chakra. Fuuin allowed the user to shape and channel chakra. He had seen her demonstrate her methods, experienced and measured the energies involved; from that, the next natural step was to duplicate her methods using chakra.

Of course, it wasn't as easy to do as it was to theorize about it, but bit by bit, Minato was understanding more and more of the physics and Arithmacy involved. He did not have magic, but he was very good at fuuin-jutsu, and Mia's lessons on the Math of Magic and Reality only improved his skills as a Seal Master.

It was a pity she refused to even consider meeting Jiraiya-sensei and Sandaime-sama; she was an incredible teacher with a wealth and depth of knowledge never before seen in the Elemental Countries. For the nth time, Minato mentally huffed in disgust and scorn against her homeland and leaders for exiling such a powerful and skilled female. She might be unwilling to attack, but she had no qualms in defending herself.

In an odd way, Minato appreciated the restrictions she had demanded of him, the dual binding agreement to keep each others secrets: a magical vow from her and a secrecy seal upon him. Without it, he would have felt obligated to inform his superiors. Sarutobi-sama might have listened, but the Council would have pressured him to order a locate and detain. And given what he now knew of her abilities, it would have resulted in a slaughter of Konoha shinobi if they tried to intimidate her with fear or killing intent.

With the agreement, he could not inform others of her, but it did not stop him from applying what he learned. Callused, scarred fingertips skimmed a particular page of his personal research journal. It was a gift from Mia, enchanted to have ten times the number of pages it appeared to have, spelled to be indestructible, and with the contents appearing to be nonsense to anyone not blood-keyed to it.

The page he was re-reading contained the starting point of his current primary project, a blend of portkey and floo. Mia had told him individuals called 'squibs' with almost no magic could use both methods, and because the enchantment/magic was already set, it was simply 'triggered' by the user by either a word or by burning a special powder. Minato's idea involved setting a temporary network (like the floo-network) anchored by special seals on a token/tag that could be placed anywhere. The tag would be like a portkey when activated, using chakra and blood checks to block infiltrators.

Usually seals were inked on scrolls, but in Mia's world, runes could be carved on many different materials (stone, metal, wood, gems, bone, flesh). Many of Minato's preliminary test seals burned out from chakra overload. Paper was not durable. He wasn't certain if wood or bone would be any better. Perhaps stone or metal? Metal would be best; something easily shaped but not easily damaged. Something easily made and stored. A shuriken? A kunai? But it had to be distinguishable from his regular tools, as well.

Absently, Minato began sketching various designs, discarding each and every one for various reasons until his consideration was on a tri-bladed throwing kunai. This design had the most potential for his purposes. Swiftly, he copied it onto a separate scroll before clearing his work surface, sealing away his notes and tools.

He needed to find a blacksmith to make the tri-blade kunai and run an experiment with his best designs to determine the most effective one. It would be better to go to one of the smaller weapons-smithies, one not affiliated with the large clans. Minato did not want his idea to be stolen before he even got to use it.

All clans had secrets and traditions that were passed down with each generation. Minato was determined to see the name Namikaze become as memorable and remembered as Senju, Uchiha, and Hyuuga.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hermione frowned as she went through the letters she had received in the latest mail drop. Since the Third Shinobi War had started, communication had been sporadic and unreliable, especially from any of the Hidden Villages involved in the war. The last detailed communiqué she had from Minato was a scroll delivered by one of his frog summons, several months ago. Her last contact entirely was an innocuous message in the civilian post five weeks ago.

"Have you heard?" the middle-aged postmistress said breathlessly to the baker's wife. "The war between Konoha and Iwa is going to end soon."

Hermione accepted her letters, scanning the addresses of the sender quickly. Bills, bills, bank, flyers, oh! A letter from the head monk at FireSoul Monastery. It went into a separate pocket in her jacket. The remaining mail went into her bag.

"In whose favour?" the baker's wife asked eagerly, as she was an incurable gossip.

Hermione pulled out her to-buy list and scanned the items. Swiftly she began moving down a different aisle, filling up her basket with non-perishables. Through the corner of her eye she saw the postmistress lean forward and speak in a low, confidential manner.

"Last I heard, Konoha was beating Iwa."

Hermione resisted the urge to snort. Of course Konoha was beating Iwa! The Tsuchikage was determined to stick to familiar methods, completely ignoring the current reality where those methods had been countered and neutralized months ago.

"The Tsuchikage is very stubborn. All Iwa nin are. He won't concede easily."

At least someone was intelligent enough to recognize that! Absently she picked up a new bar of soap, laundry detergent and disinfectant. She needed to replenish her bag of supplies.

"You're right. But Konoha has a new shinobi who is making mincemeat of the Iwa nins. They call him Konoha no Kiroi Senko, Bane of Iwa."

What was it about men and titles substituting as names? It was the same thing in the wizarding world. Defeater of Grindelwald. He Who Should Not Be Named. You Know Who. The Boy Who Lived. The Wizard Who Won.

"Oh? Is he a famous shinobi? I haven't heard of Kiroi Senko. I have heard of the Densetsu no Sannin and Konoha no Shiroi Kiba."

It would be so much easier and clearer if everyone just used the bloody names given by parents. After all their poor mothers went through, carrying, birthing, and raising them, no one had the bloody courtesy to use the names their mothers had chosen.

"He is a young jounin. Young but powerful."

Of course! Why on earth would they give an ordinary nin a too-long title? It wouldn't do for local couriers, bandit chasers, travelling escorts, and caravan guards to have a heroic title.

"Does this jounin have a name?"

Of course he has a name. What do you think people called him Before everyone started calling him Kiroi Senko?

"Namikaze Minato."

Namikaze Minato. Hermione froze. Minato. All fears and doubts left her mind, leaving one clear thought: she had to get to him and make sure he was healthy and whole. He would not have been given the title Kiroi Senko for playing courier.

Hermione managed to make it to the register without dropping anything or bumping into anyone. The girl behind the counter gave her an odd look that she ignored. She did not want to waste any time reassuring a complete stranger that she was fine. Because she wasn't.

She kept enough control to make it out of the store and to a narrow side alley before apparating.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Minato winced as he went through the latest messenger drop with the troop and supply reports. They would not be getting the reinforcements he asked for. He glanced at the topographic map, illustrating the camp, surrounding area, and enemy held ground. He could not wait for reinforcements. He had to take the enemy out while they had been knocked off their feet.

Mentally, he went over his available resources. He could pull a scouting team and put them on skirmisher duties to draw out the enemy here – his finger traced the river valley fenced in by twenty-foot-high slippery slopes – separate them, and take each small group out in a series of jumps.

"Hello, Minato," a familiar accented voice spoke softly.

He froze for a brief second, stilling and expelling his chakra to break a potential genjutsu as he turned to face her. Her image did not waver. He relaxed. No one knew of Mia; no one was using a jutsu to impersonate her. Then he frowned.

"How did you get in here?"

She shrugged slightly as she sat down on a folding campstool some distance away. "It wasn't hard to determine the general location of the Kiroi Senko. Even the civilians can't mistake your appearance." She smiled teasingly. "Your hair colour and style is very distinctive. It was quite easy to determine which tent was yours to apparate in."

Minato blushed and ran a calloused hand through the aforementioned blonde spiky strands. When he was young, his head looked like a spiny sea-urchin. At least now the weight and length kept the spikes from standing up.

Her expression and tone turned serious. "You have been a key participant in many clashes. I'm assuming your technique is one of the theories you discussed with me."

"Yes. The variant on portkey and floo. I call it Hiraishin no Jutsu."

"Flying Thunder God technique," Hermione translated.

"Yes. I vanish in a yellow flash and reappear at my target zone. Before fighting, I toss the anchors around the battlefield." He pulled out one of his tri-kunai and held it out.

Hermione nodded as she accepted the weapon and studied the seal etched into it. "I'm assuming it is blood sealed and keyed to your chakra signature."

Minato looked offended. "Of course! Any attempt to deconstruct it will activate a fuuin that will slag the metal. I'm not going to risk an enemy duplicating my technique."

"And what of your allies?" Hermione spoke in challenging tones.

"Konoha has always supported the policy of clan law protecting unique jutsus and kekkai genkai. All Konoha nin know they can't be forced to teach something they intend to pass down as a family jutsu."

Hermione nodded. "Good. I don't want to see this Hiraishin as a general-use jutsu. It is too easy to abuse since wards are not used to protect the average household." She studied him intently. "How are you feeling? It must be hard using it in battle. You probably do at least ten steps to defend allies and take out all the enemies."

Minato snorted softly. "More like fifty. I leave the minor skirmishes to the nin under me. I save my strength for when there are too many coming at the same time."

Hermione nodded understandingly. "It is a common duelling technique back home too. Hit-wizards would apparate around the battlefield to evade spells, to get behind targets, to anticipate their target's next appearance by the energy flux, to position themselves to create killing zones."

Minato grinned. "Your stories gave me the idea. I can't move around as freely as they can, but with enough kunai, I can come very close."

"You must pace yourself." She warned him. "Such a technique will drain you tremendously, and if you falter it can be fatal."

"I know. I'm working on expanding my chakra reserves and increasing my control."

She stood up and moved close enough to touch his cheek. "I'm glad you are healthy. I was worried when I didn't receive a real letter for so long."

Minato blushed. "I wanted to send you one, but I haven't had a real chance to post personal letters in a civilian village. Any mail is going by shinobi courier and will most likely be examined for security."

Hermione nodded and pulled out two leather bound books from her fanny pack. It was one of her special nearly-bottomless creations, since the books were much bigger than the pack itself.

Curious, Minato accepted the one she held out and examined it. The binding was plain, chocolate brown leather with a bronze reinforcement. In the center of the cover was a square bronze plate, etched with a spiral whirlpool with nine swirls. He tried to open it and failed.

"Put blood on the spiral while you are channelling chakra, in order to key it to you," Hermione instructed. As he followed her instructions, she did the same, channelling her own unique energy. Soon enough, the book opened, revealing blank pages.

"These two journals are linked to each other using a modification of a spell called the Protean Charm."

"Protean Charm?"

"It is a special spell that links several similar items together. In this case when something is written in one book it is duplicated in the other paired journal."

"Can anyone write in it? And read it? That doesn't seem very secure." Minato was sceptical.

Hermione smiled slightly. "The journals are spelled to be only legible to the person keyed to it. Anyone else will simply see badly-written purple prose. Anything you write in your keyed journal can only be read by you. Of course I will be able to read anything you've written, in My keyed journal."

Minato nodded thoughtfully. "Is there some sort of alarm to let me know if you've written anything?"

"Oh yes. If I've written something in my journal since you last opened yours, the spiral on your book will change, so the swirl is contained within a complete circle. The moment you open your book, it will be reset back to the original design." Brown eyes met blue. "This is a much more secure means of communication than letters or your frog summons. I might not respond immediately but I will eventually."

Minato bit his lip. "I don't understand why you can't just move to Konoha. I really want you to meet Jiraiya-sensei and Sarutobi-sama."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't want to be a shinobi, Minato. You are a shinobi, a rather famous one… How would you explain our relationship? How we met? Why we keep on meeting? My powers? Why you kept quiet?"

Understanding dawned. Few shinobis maintained close non-familial or non-business relationships with civilians. Mainly because few civilians could handle the stress and fluctuating nature of a shinobi's lifestyle. If his fellow Konoha nins saw him spending a lot of time with a civilian he would eventually have to explain why. If not to them then to his Hokage.

"You can't," she continued. "Not without exposing truths best kept quiet. Please understand, Minato, you are my friend, part of my life I am unwilling to give up. I want to stay in touch with you. If you ever need any advice, anything, you can reach me through the paired journal. And don't worry about using up all the pages. It's enchanted to be much bigger than it appears to be."

Minato nodded and forced himself to grin cheerfully. "This is a wonderful gift. Are you sure I can't change your mind?"

Hermione snorted softly. "Positive. It will take something world-shaking to do that, so don't bother trying." She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Just stay safe and keep in touch with me."

A small ache bloomed into a deeper hurt, but Minato forced himself to ignore it. He had heard her arguments and reasoning before, and he could clearly understand her point of view. People took risks and made sacrifices, but only if they wanted to protect something they loved and cherished. To Hermione, their friendship was not enough to risk losing her independence.

"I will, Mia-chan."

Hermione glanced at the timepiece on her wrist. "I have to leave now." Her eyes lingered on him with a slight tinge of fear and concern. "Look after yourself, Minato." She hesitated, biting her low lip, clearly torn between conflicting urges. "No one wins if you burn yourself out. Let other people take on some of the burden."

"I'll do my best. Look out for yourself as well. With the war travelling, it can be dangerous."

She nodded and moved as though to embrace him before restraining herself. "I will. And Minato…" He blinked inquiringly, but she only smiled. "Until we meet again, stay safe.

And then she vanished soundlessly.

Minato sank back onto his campstool, staring blankly at the spot where she had vanished from.

It was a while before he could focus on the battle strategies for the next clash.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hermione roughly towelled her hair dry before using a series of hair-drying and styling charms. Once her skin was dry and slathered in lotion, she pulled on a sleeping yukata and sat down on the narrow bed. The furnishings of the provincial inn were sparse: a bed against one wall, a mirrored set of dresser-drawers next to it, and hooks on one wall to hang clothes. The outside window and door into the inn's hallway were set at angles, limiting the line of sight to the bed, just as she wanted it.

Carefully, she opened her travel case made of hardened leather. It was of a design she had created, commissioned, and enchanted to be nearly weightless and greatly expanded. She used it to carry the belongings she had accumulated on her travels in the Elemental Countries.

She pulled out her paired journal and was pleasantly surprised to see it was glowing. She hoped Minato had good news to share with her.

The past few weeks had been very stressful. The war might be drawing to a close, but there were still skirmishes and clashes. His shinobi mindset limited the amount of information he could share with her, and his duties as a jounin-commander meant his days were filled with activities and events he could not tell her about. Hermione dearly missed the days when they could correspond with each other on whimsical and serious theories, on the physics of designing self-evolving matrices for energy manipulation.

She absently brushed the base of her thumb against her eyeteeth, drawing blood and smearing it on the whirlpool in a circle. The design morphed and shifted so the 'tails' shortened, leaving it looking like a whirlpool only. Strong, slim hands opened the book and flipped the pages to the newest entry.

~o~

Hello Mia,

I hope this message finds you in good health and pleasant surroundings. My latest command is not very pleasant, too close to the borders with Iwa. Konoha has started negotiations with the Tsuchikage's Advisors. My primary duty is to maintain a strong presence at the Talks, to keep hot-heads – on both sides – from running wild. A thankless task, given my own personal feelings towards Iwa.

They killed my student, Mia. Obito was so young, he never had the chance to really live and experience life. Kakashi shows no sign of healing. I fear one day his mind will crack and shatter. Once we are safely in Konoha, I must insist he be examined and counselled by a Yamanaka mind-healer.

The only bright spot is that Iwa knows they cannot win against the Hiraishin. I look forward to the day we receive orders to pack-up and return to Konoha. When that happens, I can review my library to verify some of the theories I have come up with over the past few months. Border Patrol was a lot of watching and waiting after Iwa became fully aware of the near instantaneous capabilities of Hiraishin.

Once I have downtime, I would like to make plans to meet up with you in Tetsu or Cha.

Until then,

Minato

~o~

Hermione smiled as she re-read the entry. A small flutter in her tummy made her breath catch. She ignored the telling action and removed her ever-sharp glass-nib pen and spill-proof ink pot. The entry was three days old. Minato would be waiting for a reply.

She hadn't had a chance to open the journal yet, as she had been travelling with a merchant caravan and sleeping with the crew around an open campfire. The nights had been too pleasant to set up tents, and Hermione hadn't wanted to draw attention to herself by doing so for herself.

Now that the war was nearly over, she hoped he would share more of his private life, not just the academic aspects. Minato was genuine and interested and loyal. Now that the war was over perhaps…

No. Hermione pushed away the idea. Minato was a shinobi, his loyalty would always be to his war-leader, his Kage, his comrades, his village, his people.

But of course, with the acknowledgment of the possibility, it was nearly impossible to deny the seed of hope blooming within her heart.

Unfortunately, it was a sprout that would be mangled in the weeks and months to come.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Dear Mia,

You'll never guess what happened…Sarutobi-sama called me in for a private meeting yesterday evening and informed me I'm on his short-list of candidates to be the next Hokage! He asked me if I still wanted the position and I said I needed to think about it. Being Hokage is a big step… I know I've dreamt of being the Hokage since I was a kid, but things have changed. I've changed.

Jiraiya-sensei thinks I'm crazy for asking for time to think about the offer, but Sarutobi-sama smiled and told me it was a good sign of my suitability. I'm taking the time to consider all the factors and possibilities before making a decision and acting. Just like any leader, any Kage, must. With an entire village depending on me and my wise choices, I cannot act rashly or impulsively.

Write me your thoughts as soon as you can. I'd like another perspective.

Minato

~o~

Hermione uncapped the ink pot and set out her pen. Absently, she dipped the tip into the pot and blotted off the excess while she organized her thoughts.

She was tempted to persuade him to turn down the offer. If he became Kage, the possibility of them dwindled. She would always have second doubts, about his invitations and offers. He would be a fool to not consider the benefits of having her allied or even joined to his cause.

But in the end, she could not be so selfish. So she ignored her personal preferences and set out to write an even analysis and recommendation in the paired journal.

In their rare personal discussions, he had shared his childhood dream and reasons, reasons that were still very valid today: Minato wanted to protect others.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hello Mia,

Wish you could have been here for the ceremony. Sarutobi turned over the title, power, and duties of Hokage to me five days ago. Luckily I insisted on a less elaborate ceremony and only two days of celebration. According to Jiraiya, when Sarutobi became Hokage, there was a two-week-long celebration instead.

I had my first lesson in knife-edge politics as well. Orochimaru was not happy Sarutobi chose me over him, and he was drunk enough to be incautious in his manner and words. It is enough to make me uneasy. If I were a simple jounin, I would dismiss it as sour grapes. Before I met you, I would have simply ignored the possibility, told myself that he was a loyal and highly respected Konoha shinobi, that it was just a drunken ramble. Now that I am Hokage, I cannot ignore the possibility that he is breaking or even skirting Konoha law. I will be ordering a quiet investigation into the Hebi-Sannin at the first opportunity.

I strongly hope it turns out to be a false alarm, but my gut says otherwise. Sarutobi and Jiraiya are going to be devastated if my suspicions about Orochimaru turn out to be true.

I hope this message finds you in good health. Write soon.

Minato

~o~

Hermione smiled wistfully. Minato did not know it, but she had been there for the ceremony. It had not been too difficult to get in, with all the foreigners travelling for the purpose of seeing Konoha no Kiroi Senko take on the mantle and power of the Yondaime Hokage.

She had been so tempted to join the line of civilians paying their respects to the new Hokage, but she had resisted. He would have recognized her energy signature at such a close range.

She considered this message and was pleased Minato was acknowledging the possibility of being backstabbed by a trusted comrade, a fellow nin. Konoha strongly emphasized teamwork and honoured the Densetsu no Sannin. It would be hard for anyone to recognize the possibility that such a highly respected comrade could turn traitor. James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin had never considered Peter Pettigrew to turn traitor either.

Carefully, she dipped her pen in the ink pot and began writing her advice to Minato.

Follow the money.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hello Mia,

I'm writing this before I start my day and leave home. Once I step out the door, there is always someone who wants to talk to me about 'something very important.' Of course, their idea of important is very different from mine.

I changed my secretary five times before I found one who would listen to me. Tanaka Reiko sets aside one hour in the afternoons for just Me Time. I think it's fair, since my work day rarely ends until well into the evening. Each day, I try to catch up with an old friend or colleague.

Yesterday I met up with an old classmate. Her name is Uzumaki Kushina. She came to Konoha as a refugee from Uzushiogakure when it was destroyed by Iwa. We went through the Academy and kept in touch while we were genin and chunin, but our interests led us into different paths. I followed Jiraiya on a Sealing Mastery apprenticeship while she went into ANBU and became a Swords Mistress. We ran in different circles so we didn't really meet until I became a jounin-commander, mainly backing up ANBU teams in the field. We don't have a lot in common, but I really like her. She makes me laugh. Frankly, with all the stress of being Hokage, I could use a lot of laughter in my life right now.

Some days I wish I didn't accept the responsibility. I wish I could concentrate on my own research. I manage to stay on top of the paperwork using Kage bunshin, but it gives me headaches. I've ordered my ANBU guard to spar with me, to keep my reflexes, but they are too respectful to go all out. I really need to bribe Sarutobi into sparring with me. He's one of the few Konoha nins on my skill level who are not burdened with responsibilities taking up almost every hour of their day.

I really wish I could take a week off and travel outside Hi no Kuni to meet you.

Missing you,

Minato

~o~

Hermiones breath caught as she re-read the message. It was perfectly understandable. It would take a strong personality to ignore titles and power, to treat a Kage as a mortal man prone to frailties just as any other. That was why Harry had cherished their friendship…because she saw Harry, not the Boy Who Lived or the Prophesied One or the Dark Lord Slayer. It was why Minato stayed in touch with her…because she never hesitated in cutting him and his overly elaborate schemes down to size if she felt it necessary. And he recognized the value in being humble, in listening, and acknowledging her experiences.

Kushina could fill that role for him. She had never treated Minato as anything special, even when many called him a young genius during their younger years.

Minato needed all the supportive friends he could get.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Mia,

You won't believe it! Kushina finally agreed to go out on a date with me. She insisted on it being a secret date, because she doesn't want the whole village to gossip about us, but she is going out with me! Any suggestions on what would be a good date? I really want to make a good impression. I think she could be the One.

Minato

~o~

Her breath caught, and she was very aware of the stinging in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, dislodging two trails of tears.

This had been a long time coming. For the past weeks, all Minato could talk about was Kushina-this and Kushina-that. How pretty she was. How strong she was. How skilled she was. How graceful she was.

Hermione was not a petty teenage girl anymore, a girl who'd break down and cry when the boy she liked went out with a much prettier girl. She was a mature capable woman who held her destiny in her own two hands. At this moment, she had two choices.

One, she could remain and find what joy she could in friendship, ignoring her own feelings and desire. Two, she could leave, break ties, and walk free.

There was no reason she had to fall into the same trap she had as a student, best friend, and advisor, but never the girlfriend or lover. Minato preferred another, and she was better suited to his lifestyle than Hermione. She did not have to stay and watch and hurt.

It would be best to detach with love. To cut ties for a time, give herself time to heal and accept the new reality, so their relationship would not be poisoned by her feelings for him.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hello Minato,

This will be the last message from me for a while. I have decided to go on a journey of self-enlightenment, to process certain knowledge and determine my options for the future. Unfortunately, to get the maximum benefit, I must limit contact with my past and people I have ties to.

I feel I have been stuck in a rut for a while, but I'm not certain of what to do next. Sometimes strangers see things we don't due to familiarity, and talking to someone who doesn't know you can be oddly therapeutic. A certain religion in my homelands had something called Confession, where a priest would assign penance based on the degree and number of sins committed, usually a mantra or prayer chanted a specific number of times.

I'm not particularly religious myself, but I acknowledge the existence of the Higher Powers. They do their thing, I go my way. Now I find the urge to examine my atrophied spiritual well-being. Perhaps this journey will help me.

I will be storing my journal in a safety deposit box. You may continue to write, but do not expect any responses for at least six months, perhaps longer.

May your path be clear and trouble-free,

Mia

~o~

"Minato?"

Namikaze Minato looked up at his girlfriend. "What is it, Kushina?"

"Is something wrong? You look like someone smacked you in the head with a staff."

Minato shook his head. "It's nothing." He smiled encouragingly. "Why don't you go on and get ready? Shikaku and Yoshino will be waiting for us."

Kushina nodded and picked up her bundle of clothes, hurrying to the bathroom to shower and change.

Minato glanced at the journal and re-read the entry. It was silly to feel slighted. Mia was a friend, there was no rule that said she could not do what she had just done. Hadn't Minato done it himself when he accompanied Jiraiya on the training trip to study and prepare for his Sealing Mastery? Hermione was not a shinobi, but her unique skills made her as accomplished as any nin and Fuuin jutsu master.

She had put aside her studies to focus on providing him with advice and support when Konoha was at war, during his candidacy, and his first months as Hokage. It made perfect sense that she would take some time for herself, now that Minato was somewhat settled.

Minato sighed softly. Hermione had been hinting at her desire for a change. Minato had hoped she was considering moving to Konoha. He wanted the two women who were important to him to meet each other.

"Seriously, what's wrong, Minato?"

The blonde kage looked up and smiled slightly. "Nothing. I got a message from an old friend today. She said she was going on a six-month training trip."

Kushina frowned fiercely. "Six months? I haven't heard of any kunoichi going on a training trip." Red brows drew down into a furrowed V. "Who is she?"

Minato laughed softly. "She isn't a kunoichi. She is a civilian Fuuin jutsu mistress who taught me a few tricks even Jiraiya's never heard of. I met her on a mission outside Hi no Kuni and we started corresponding. No one in Konoha knows of her, and she prefers it that way because she's not interested in serving any Hidden Village."

Kushina frowned. "Is this wise, Minato?"

The kage snorted. "She is good enough to neutralize anyone who tries to force her. Including me. Besides, it was her lessons that inspired me to create the Hiraishin."

The red-haired kunoichi's jaw dropped. "And she's not a shinobi?"

Minato shook his head. "Definitely not. But she has a kekkai genkai that gives her the upper hand over almost any nin. It's not something that can be forced from her. Any Hidden Village who kidnaps her child gains no benefit and earns her immediate wrath."

"How so?"

Minato frowned slightly before explaining. "Her kekkai genkai must be exercised and developed or the abilities atrophy. It's like chakra-vessels in a child; there is a certain age range when they can be developed and expanded. After a certain age, the talent atrophies into dormancy if the wielder has not reached a certain level. But it is dangerous for children to exercise the talent without an experienced adult around. It is very common to experience irreparable damage during practice sessions, or to even be killed." A lie, but necessary in case the Council found out and questioned Kushina.

Kushina blinked. "How odd. I haven't heard of any such kekkai genkai."

Minato smiled mirthlessly. "You wouldn't. She is the only one in the Elemental Countries." He hesitated before settling on a lie. "Her arrival was an accident."

Kushina's eyes widened. "The Hiraishin?"

"Not exactly, but an experimental transportation technique. She has not been able to duplicate it, since it wasn't her experiment." That wasn't a lie, not completely.

Kushina softened. "Poor soul. She must have been very shocked and alone." Then she became more curious. "How do you stay in touch if she is travelling?"

Minato shrugged. "We won't. But it's only six months. With any luck, she will decide to move to Konoha then. I really want you to meet her."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hermione sat down before the plain pinewood desk. Her thumb drew blood on the glass-nib pen before brushing across the seal of the journal she had just retrieved from her safety deposit box at Hi no Kuni's National Bank, Hasu Midori branch.

Hesitantly, her fingers flipped through the pages. It had been eight months since her last message to Minato. She was a little nervous about reading his entries, to find out how he reacted, how he felt about her now.

Vacillating did not benefit anyone.

Slim fingers turned the page to the oldest unread entry and she began reading. She read slowly at first, and then more quickly. Her fingers darted over the familiar scrawl, lingering on some lines and skimming over others.

~o~

I don't understand why you have to take such an extended trip. Can't you take a break every two months? I miss hearing from you.

~o~

Kushina insisted I keep on writing even though you won't be reading. She says it is a kind of therapy, like keeping a diary, but I know you will be reading these sooner or later.

~o~

You won't believe what happened today. She got into a fight with Hyuuga Hiashi. At a Village Council social event. I know what Sarutobi is going to say tomorrow, but I'm not going to do it. I'm not going to give up Kushina for some proper clan daughter who resembles a wind-up doll who behaves perfectly in public. I don't care what they think. Kushina is cheerful, optimistic, hot-headed… Real. She makes me smile and forget about the weight of duty. She makes me feel like a normal human being.

~o~

My ANBU have not found any concrete evidence against Orochimaru, but they have uncovered other unsavoury aspects. I've given Inochi orders to track and identify members of Danzo's Ne. All Konoha orphanages have orders to do random drop-in follow-up appointments on all older child adoptions for six months on a bi-weekly basis. If they even suspect the child is being indoctrinated, they have orders to pull him/her out and arrest the 'parents.'

~o~

I wish you were here. Kushina told me we are going to become parents. It wasn't exactly planned, but accidents happen. She caught a certain fever in Ame that neutralized the more common forms of contraceptives used by kunoichi. The medic who treated her was too inexperienced to recognize the side-effects of the fever and warn her to use alternative methods.

I haven't really thought about the future, children and a family, but I am happy. I'm going to be a father, I'm going to have my own family! You know I was orphaned when I was seven. The chuunins who tracked the bandits responsible brought me to Konoha. I was too old, too hardened to be adopted, so I considered the whole village as my own kin until I was old enough to have my own family.

~o~

Kushina refused my proposal. She said what Sarutobi and the council said still applies. The Hokage's wife must be able to navigate cut-throat politics and diplomatic negotiations. Her personality is too direct to handle such restrictions. She'd go crazy within a month of living in the public eye. She cares, but not enough to bear the duties and restrictions that come with being my wife.

I know what you're going to say. I'm calling the baby "him" for convenience. I don't have much preference about having a son or a daughter. I just want the baby to be born healthy and stay healthy.

I'm lucky that she is willing to stay as friends and let me be part of his life. She wants him to have her clan name – Uzumaki – as a protection against my enemies. I don't know how it is going to work when the baby is older. He/she is going to know why daddy isn't living with them. I have to talk to Biwako, Sarutobi's wife. Perhaps she might have some good advice since you aren't here.

~o~

I need to de-fang and neutralize Sarutobi's old advisors. They have not taken kindly to being sidelined since I became Hokage. They are trying to seize power by creating power vacuums. Unfortunately, they seem to have targeted the Uchiha. The clan is powerful and skilled, but their attitude and old adversarial relationship with the Senju clan has not helped. Koharu has been spreading rumours about the bad blood between Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama, comparing the situation to today with me and Fugaku playing the lead roles. It is too easy to canonize the dead and find flaws in the living.

~o~

We found out the baby is a boy. I talked to Kushina, and she's agreed to name him Naruto, after the character in Jiraiya's first book. I sent you a copy when it was first published.

~o~

My ANBU have reported odd activities on the border. I have sent several scouting teams to verify the source and numbers.

~o~

This is just fucking great. There is just one being behind all the disturbances. A fucking bijuu. To be more precise, the Kyuubi no Kitsune. I have to figure out a way to stop it, or at least redirect it away from Konoha.

Wish you were here.

~o~

I've managed to find studies of the seals that contained the Ichibu in a teapot. I'm working on modifying it to constrain the Kyuubi. Too bad I don't have enough time to test it. Wish you were here to re-check my calculations.

~o~

I've checked and rechecked. The seals will not contain the Kyuubi. It will break free within seventy minutes, unless the container is living and the matrix adaptable. I need to research this.

~o~

An animal or plant is not going to work. Now I understand why the Ancients called bijuu containers jinchuuriki, human sacrifice. It is the only open path I can see. Please tell me I am wrong. I need your perspective, Mia.

~o~

Jiraiya has re-checked my design and calculations. I've worked every precaution and safeguard possible into it. Someone might have to be sacrificed to save Konoha, but he/she is going to get the best chance possible of surviving the burden.

~o~

There is no other way. In order to make the seal perfectly balanced, I have to interlace it with an experimental seal I found in the Forbidden Scroll. It is called Shiki Fuuin, Death God Seal. The user literally summons the Death God to execute and amplify the seal. As payment, the user's soul will be sealed in the Death God's belly. I don't know how much is real and how much is metaphoric. It's not like one has much chance of experimenting and recording one's observations after executing the seal.

~o~

I can't fucking believe it! The seal will not work on an adult. The chakra pathways are too rigid to accept the necessary changes to become a growing, living matrix.

~o~

I don't have much choice now. The scouts have reported Kyuubi will be here within two hours. I will execute the seal. I know the intricacies and structure to make any necessary field adjustments. The only question is whose child is going to be sacrificed to save Konoha.

~o~

Kushina is dead. She went into labour but insisted that I not be informed. She said it would distract me from my work. She was right. Rin was with her throughout the labour and delivery. She died two hours later of an embolism any competent medic-nin could have treated, if they were skilled enough to detect it.

The standards in Konoha General Hospital have fallen badly since Tsunade left. I hope my successor, whoever he is, brings her back.

~o~

This will be my last entry. As I write it, I'm holding my son Naruto. I cannot ask another parent to give up their child, to sacrifice what I am not.

Naruto will be jinchuuriki to the Kyuubi no Kitsune. I have given instructions to Sarutobi and Jiraiya to look after my son, but my newfound cynicism pushes me to ask you one last favour – as your student, your colleague, your friend – please look after Naruto.

~o~

Hermione did not realize she was moving until she was in front of her dresser, pulling out her just-unpacked clothes and tossing them into the open duffel bag on the bed. She had to get to Konoha as quickly as possible.

Minato needed her. And if he was dead, then his son would.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

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Next Part

Minato's Mentor 1/? (Hermione/Minato - PG)

2011-06-14T01:19:57Z

Title: Minato's Mentor - 01
Author(s): sarhea
Rating: PG
Categories: Harry Potter, Naruto, Crossover, xover
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and co, were created by J.K. Rowling. Namikaze Minato, Naruto and co, were created by Masashi Kishimoto. I don’t own any of the characters, concepts, verses… This story was written for fun, not profit.
Type: Gen, Het, romance, drama, action
Acknowledgments: Kristen my wonderful encouraging beta reader who is the epitome of positive constructive criticism.
Author’s Notes: See the Masterpost for full details. AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; EWE. AU Narutoverse since Hermione meets Minato long before he became Hokage and that Changes Everything. Butterfly wings flapping in Asia.
Last Edited: June 13, 2011

Summary: Hermione finds herself on a one-way trip to where? How fortunate this time she gets to be the rescuer instead of the rescuee.

~ooO 01 Prelude Ooo~

Hermione blinked slowly. Multi-hued blobs of floating confetti marred her vision. She groaned softly as fresh pain fried her sensitized nerve endings, feeling like a thousand ice picks being pounded into her cerebral cortex. The taste of bile filled her mouth.

When she could finally focus on her situation and surroundings, fear and rage surged in equal measure. Her hands were bound in front of her by a set of silvery shackles with wide bracelet-like restraints, her ankles similarly restrained but with much more give than the one binding her wrists. The back of her head was sore, tender, and (Hermione strongly suspected) bleeding sluggishly.

"You are awake."

She froze and carefully peered into the shadows, looking for the owner of the voice. She did not detect any malice but that did not soothe her building anxiety. No one suspected serial killers until After they were caught.

She didn't have to look very hard because Someone stepped out of the shadows and into the light. A man wearing subdued grey robes with a deep, raised hood, which cast his face in shadow. He could have been any wizard in the world, but for one distinction: he wore a long silver chain over grey robes, ending in a palm-sized amulet-pendant resting over the middle of his torso.

The pendant was unique in its design, with runes and other symbols designating a rank, as well as both defensive and offensive protections. Hermione had seen the image during her research into the various Departments of the Ministry of Magic though this was the first time she was seeing the actual amulet itself. It was the mark of a high-ranking Department of Mysteries official. An Unspeakable. The talisman could never be stolen (it was linked to its owners blood and magical aura) and it could never be duplicated (many past Dark Lords and powerful mages had tried and failed).

Hermione shakily pushed herself into a sitting position.

"Why am I here?"

"You have angered too many powerful and influential wizards, Hermione Granger. Many factions have aligned to neutralize you."

Brown eyes widened in shock. "Neutralize? But why? I have done nothing illegal!"

The Unspeakable nodded. "True. But your actions are controversial; they upset the status quo and taboos of wizarding society. Legally, nothing can be done, but as you well know, legalities have never stopped powerful and influential beings."

Hermione's heart sank. "What is the date?"

He told her. It had been more than a week since her last coffee date with Harry, and she would have missed two by now. Harry would be looking for her, she realized. He would find her.

"If you expect to be rescued…do not. Mr. Potter has been given a two-month overseas assignment. By the time he returns and realizes you are missing, it will be over."

"But Minerva—"

"Does not have the power, allies, or influence of Albus Dumbledore. She is under the impression you are on a research trip in Rome."

"Why are you telling me this? Why didn't you just kill me when I was still unconscious?"

"Kill you? Who said you are going to be killed?" The Unspeakable sounded faintly amused.

Bastard, Hermione tamped down on the knee-jerk reaction to lash out.

"Forgive me, but you said many desire to stop my research, my voice, my actions." The expression in her brown eyes, despite it all, remained calm. "That will only happen when I am dead."

"Incorrect. Your influence will end when your voice cannot reach wizarding ears."

"You're going to exile me?" she asked incredulously. "You're going to exile me for having a different viewpoint? How is that supposed to stop me from speaking and voicing my opinions?"

The hooded head tilted slightly. "Very easily. You will be in a different dimension, with no way back."

"Wha—?"

And with that, Hermione blacked out. The last thing she saw was a flash of red in the corner of her eye.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Her head was throbbing, and something hard and dusty rested under her cheek. Groaning, she slowly realized she was lying on the ground. Her muscles burned and quivered as she tried to get leverage to push herself up, but it was several minutes before she managed to lift her head high enough to get a good view of her surroundings.

She was in the middle of nowhere. All she could see was a bare expanse of dry, barren land. There were mountains in the far horizon, but that was all. Wary, she remained still and listened, but the only sound she could hear was that of the wind and wildlife.

She pushed herself up into a kneeling position and sat back on her heels, groaning as the motion caused what felt like a thousand needles to stab into her brain and eyeballs. It was several minutes before the throbbing pain faded enough to reach blindly at her side.

The Unspeakables had not taken her emergency kit. From the ease of much practice, she located a phial of pain-killing potion and downed it. Ten minutes later, she felt much better and more in control. Carefully, she began examining the contents of her kit, just in case they booby-trapped it.

But they had not. In fact, it was heavily augmented and filled with a variety of shrunken containers with intriguing labels. Potions of all sorts: to kill, to heal, to make life easier. Card-deck-sized cases she recognized as portable libraries, a master-class set of warding stones, a very fine set of instruments, an expensive set of rune stones, and small, shrunken trunks whose contents were indiscernible. And a letter.

It was heavy, expensive parchment, folded and sealed with the Unspeakables' insignia in purple wax. Gingerly, she broke it and felt the wash of magic over her hands. Hermione knew that, had it been opened by anyone but her, it would have unleashed some…unpleasant hexes upon the thief. Pushing that thought away from her mind, she unfolded the parchment and began reading:

~o~

Miss Granger,

I'm sure by now you have determined you are no longer in Wizarding Britain. In fact, you are nowhere on Earth as you know it. There was a great deal of pressure for your death, but as the agent handling this matter, I have a certain degree of lee-way that I have chosen to exercise.

I am certain you remember The Veil in the Department of Mysteries. It is not to the Afterlife as generally speculated, but rather, a doorway to one's inevitable destiny. For most people, it is death, but in your case, The Fates have greater plans in mind for you. If I am correct, you will awake in a dimension where you will have a role of great importance to play. Whether you choose to accept that destiny and walk that path is entirely up to you.

To help you in your new life, your kit has been augmented and fully replenished with tools and supplies to help you survive. You may or may not be able to replenish the potions ingredients, so be circumspect in using them until you have determined local sources or substitutes.

Do not try to return back to your birth dimension and the Wizarding World. You might be able to protect yourself, but you cannot protect everyone you care for; many of the factions seeking your death can be as ruthless as any Dark Lord in achieving their goals.

Best regards in your future endeavours,

Direcawl,

Unspeakable, First-Ranked Mithril-class,

Department of Mysteries,

London, England.

~o~

Hermione carefully folded the letter and placed it back in her kit. The magic-suppressing shackles had to go, so she needed to find a blacksmith of some sort. A small town or village would have a blacksmith or the local equivalent. She just had to find a few locals and figure out just where the bloody hell she was!

She pushed herself to her feet and began walking with no particular direction in mind. She figured her best bet was to find a river and follow it, as people generally formed settlements near waterways. If she found one, perhaps she could find a blacksmith then.

Interrupting her thoughts, and without any warning whatsoever, her stomach growled.

First she had to eat. She turned and began walking in the direction with the most sound. It would not be pleasant, but she could try to catch something to eat herself. She did earn several badges for trapping and campfire cooking during her Girl Guide days, after all.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Namikaze Minato cursed and ducked. The kunai flew past him with scant distance to spare. There were too many to fight. He tossed a few primed exploding tags and smoke bomb tags before beginning to run. In the confusion, he ducked and leapt for one of the over-hanging balconies, and it provided a point to launch off from, as he landed on a nearby roof.

The moment he got the chance, he used a Shunshin to disappear into an alley between a yakitori food cart and a fruit stall.

"There! He's at Touko's fruit stand!"

He vanished before they could attack, but he was again tracked down within five seconds. He repeated the jutsu and was tracked down yet again. There were too many of them blanketing this quarter of Ginzu Town. They had to have a chakra sensor scout with them. It was the only reasonable explanation as to why he could not shake off his pursuers.

Minato knew his strengths and his weaknesses. Right now, he was alone with no back-up in a Tsuchi no Kuni frontier town, being chased by Iwa nins. He was running low on weapons, kunai, shuriken, tags, and wire. He had a messenger scroll containing confidential information that had to reach the Hokage's hands without being read by enemy nin. Sandaime-sama had ordered the courier scroll to be destroyed if there was a risk of it falling into enemy hands, but Minato was reluctant to take that final step. It would mean he had failed in his mission.

He crouched low to reduce his profile and tried to control his chakra output. If he reduced it to the bare minimum, maybe, just maybe, they would miss him.

Fat chance.

"Do you want to get out of town?"

He whirled on his heels, kunai out, ready to neutralize the kunoichi who spoke.

He blinked.

The owner of the voice was a civilian woman, not a kunoichi like he at first suspected. She was petite and soft looking, with supple curves, smooth skin, and full glossy lips. Her wide chocolate brown eyes were surrounded by a loose bun of light brown hair, twisted on top of her head.

She wore a loose-fitting, mid-calf length maroon dress with long sleeves. Cream coloured civilian ballet-slippers on her narrow feet were secured by ribbons around her ankles and calves. A black civilian-style backpack rested on her back, worn over both shoulders by the wide padded straps.

In one free hand she held a walking staff, a popular accessory among traders who travelled the roads. Some of the more expensive versions could be converted into weapons with a twist of the shaft and a bit of chakra, but Minato could not see any carvings, painted seals, or sense any chakra in this one. It was just an ordinary walking stick that could perhaps double as a quarterstaff.

"Do you want to get out of town?" she repeated.

Minato blinked. Did he? Of course, but could he really trust her? The sounds of the Iwa nin hunting him drew closer. What choice did he have? None he would willingly choose. But he had to make his decision.

So he did.

"Yes."

She twisted her wrist so the staff was held parallel to the ground in front of her. From the new grip, Minato could now see that the length of wood was bound with bands of different metals and alloys, polished smooth with absolutely no hint of chakra. She moved her free hand to touch the bluish-grey steel band.

"Touch the steel band, the one I am touching."

Was she trying to poison him?

She made a soft huffing sound of impatience. "I will count to three. If you don't touch the band at three, I am leaving without you. One…"

Minato did not really see how touching a walking stick could result in escaping Iwa nin.

"Two…"

But he humoured her and obeyed her instructions.

"Three."

He felt something tug at his navel, almost pull at his chakra. The world whirled and twisted into vivid colours. He felt as though he was being squeezed and jerked forward.

And then it all returned to normal.

Promptly, Minato fell on his knees and threw up.

Once that was taken care of, he blindly accepted the small flask thrust under his nose and took a swig. It could have been poisoned, but at that precise moment Minato did not care. The water was cool and clean, however, and he swirled it around his mouth before spitting it out. A second mouthful made him feel more human.

When he looked up, his saviour looked amused, making her more approachable.

"What was that?" His voice sounded like a frog. Gamabunta would not appreciate the comparison.

"Portkey."

The word was unfamiliar, perhaps a foreign tongue.

"Portu-keyu," he tried to enunciate the syllables clearly.

The woman shrugged. "Close enough. It is a transportation technique that moves anything in contact with the focus. In this case, the steel band around my walking stick."

Minato looked around slowly. They were in the scrubby hills, two hours running at genin speed outside of Ginzu town. He looked up at the sun. There was no discernable change in the position.

"How long?"

"A portkey is almost instantaneous. Just a few seconds between departure and arrival."

Minato was impressed. Shunshin was limited by chakra control and reserves, as well as line of sight. Then he realized something.

"I didn't feel any chakra."

She blinked slowly and looked at him with patient tolerance, like a teacher humouring a very young student.

"I don't use chakra."

Minato frowned. "I don't understand," he confessed. "How could you do such an amazing jutsu without chakra?"

She appeared to consider his question before she answered slowly.

"I don't use chakra. I use something…different. Magic."

"Magicku?"

"Ma-jik."

"Majik."

"Yes, magic. It is something similar to your definition of a kekkai genkai. Some are born with the ability to use magic; to manipulate it to different ends and effects on varying scales, to affect living and non-living. Magic cannot be taught or developed. You either have it or you don't."

"And you have it."

"Yes."

The word was filled with confidence and certainty. She did not try to elaborate or prove her claim, nor did she feel any need to seek his approval or interest.

"I have never heard of any clan in the Elemental Countries having a kekkai genkai that does not use chakra," Minato confessed.

She laughed softly. "I'm not from around here." She hesitated before adding, "I'm very far from my homeland."

"What are you doing here then? Tsuchi no Kuni is not very welcoming of foreigners, much less a woman travelling alone. They suspect all visitors are spies, and to be honest, they are probably right. There is too much tension between all the Hidden Villages."

"I didn't have much of a choice. I made too many enemies back home. I had to leave."

Minato was suddenly wary of her. What had she done to be exiled? Was she a criminal? She didn't look or act it, but Minato was a jounin and knew deception was a common tool in achieving goals. But she had helped him, and he felt an obligation to hear her side first.

"May I ask why and how you gained such enemies?"

She suddenly looked very tired. "I spoke the truth. Something very powerful clans and factions did not want to hear. Luckily, I had allies who helped me get away."

An idea took seed and began to germinate in his head suddenly, so suddenly he didn't realize what he was saying. "Are you looking for a place to settle down? Konoha is very welcome of immigrants. Especially ones with kekkai genkai."

Now she looked both amused and chiding all at once. "I am not interested in fighting in your wars, shinobi-san."

"Minato."

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Namikaze Minato. Just Minato, if you want."

She inclined her head. "My name is Grangeru Hermione, but you can call me Mia. Or Grangeru if you prefer."

Minato bowed his head. "I am honoured to meet you Mia-san. But I beg you to reconsider your views on moving to Konoha. You don't have to fight or become a shinobi. You can teach what you want. And Tsuchi no Kuni is going to become too dangerous to all visitors very soon. All signs indicate there will be open war in the coming months."

"Precisely my point, Minato-san. You have seen what my portkeys can do. Can you honestly say your leaders will not try to force me to move your troops and supplies once the war starts?"

Minato struggled to figure out how to answer honestly and persuade her otherwise, but failed. She nodded with a sad, knowing smile.

"I won't be trapped and used, Minato-san. Once was bad enough. I've already fought my wars. I do not wish to be forced to slaughter for causes I do not believe in." She held up a hand. "I am not a shinobi. I am not even a civilian citizen of any nation on this continent. I owe no obligation to any of these lands, the daimyos, or Hidden Villages. I will not fight unless I am attacked personally."

Minato considered his options. He could tell the Hokage of this meeting, but if the Council ever found out, there would be demands to force her to join Konoha, to at least marry into the village and have children with her kekkai genkai, children who would be cajoled into become Konoha shinobi. Every instinct screamed that it would be a dangerous and lethal thing to do. To enrage this woman with such an alien multi-purpose kekkai genkai could be fatal. It would be better to cultivate her favour, to win her alliance. She might try to remain neutral, but sooner or later she would have to choose a side. And until then, she would need allies and resources, character references and guides. Something Minato could help with.

"I can understand your decision." He bowed his head. "If you wish to remain neutral, I would suggest moving to Cha no Kuni or Tetsu no Kuni. If you are agreeable, I can escort you." He hesitated. "Or would you use a portkey to travel?"

"Portkeys have limitations. I can only make them if I know the destination, if I've been there before. We can get to the border near Kusa no Kuni though."

Minato nodded vigorously. "I can replenish my supplies there." He hesitated. "Would my company be acceptable?"

She smiled slightly. "Good company is always acceptable." She held out her staff once more and touched the second copper band from the top.

Minato mimicked her action and felt squeezed as the world twisted away.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

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Next Part

Naruto & Japanese Terms/Glossary

2011-06-14T00:58:13Z

Title: Naruto & Japanese Terms/Glossary
Categories: Naruto, General info
Last Edited: June 13, 2011, Please note this may be revised & updated.

Naruto/Japanese Glossary

bijuu - tailed beast, one least powerful to nine the most powerful
chakra - blend of spiritual and physical energy used to power attacks by ninjas
-chan - suffix used for young children or girls, or between those having a close relationship
chuunin - ninja rank, journeyman, above genin, below jounin
daimyo - temporal ruler of each Elemental Country, the kage or leader of the Hidden Village in that country is subject to his orders
Densetsu no Sannin - Legendary Three Ninja, Jiraiya Tsunade Orochimaru
fuuin-jutsu - sealing techniques, similar to runes (runic arrays) in the wizarding world
gama - frog
genin - ninja rank, beginner, above academy student, below chuunin
genjutsu - illusion technique, similar to spells that fool all senses.
hai - yes
hasu - lotus
hebi - snake
Hiraishin no Jutsu - Flying Thunder God technique, signature technique of Namikaze Minato
ichibu - one tail
iie - no
jinchuuriki - human sacrifice, a girl/boy used as a vessel to store/contain a bijuu
jounin - ninja rank, master, above chuunin, below kage
jutsu - technique, ninja verson of spell
kage - ninja rank, adept, above jounin
Kami - God
kekkai genkai - bloodline limit, special abilities passed down through certain lineage
kitsune - fox spirit out of Japanese legend, the more tails the more powerful the spirit
Konoha no Kiroi Senko - Konoha's Yellow Flash
kumo – bear
-kun – suffix used for males with whom the user has a close friendship
kunai - spade shaped blade, common weapon for throwing and cutting
kunoichi - female ninja
kyuubi - nine tails
midori - green
Mokuton - a kekkai genkai the Shodaime Hokage was known for, wood growth and manipulation
Ne - Root, secret black ops group raised to be emotionless, loyal only to Shimura Danzo
neko – cat
Nidaime - Second
nin - short general term for male and female ninja (shinobi and kunoichi)
ninjutsu - energy technique, similar to spells, charms
-sama - honorific suffix
-san - general polite suffix used between acquaintances
Sandaime - Third
sensei - teacher
shinobi - male ninja
Shodaime - First
Shunshined - technique similar to apparition
shuriken - star shaped thowing weapon
taijutsu - body technique, chakra-enhanced martial arts
tori - bird
Yondaime - Fourth
youki - the demonic equivalent of chakra
yukata - Japanese garment used at home or for sleeping

Elemental Continent Geography:
o~o
Tsuchi no Kuni - Earth Country
Iwa - Rock (hidden village)
Tsuchikage - Earth shadow - leader of Iwa
o~o
Hi no Kuni - Fire Country
Konoha - Leaf (hidden village)
Hokage - fire shadow - leader of Konoha

o~o

Ame - Rain (hidden village)

o~o
Nami no Kuni - Wave Country

Uzushiogakure - Hidden in the Whirlpools, extinct hidden village destroyed by Iwa
o~o

Cha no Kuni - Tea Country
o~o

Kusa no Kuni - Grass Country
o~o

Tetsu no Kuni - Iron Country
o~o

Master Post: Minato's Mentor (Hermione/Minato - R)

2011-06-14T00:15:28Z

Title: Minato's Mentor
Author(s): sarhea
Artist: Amy sparklycockles
Categories: Harry Potter, Naruto, Crossover, xover
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and co, were created by J.K. Rowling. Namikaze Minato, Naruto and co, were created by Masashi Kishimoto. I don’t own any of the characters, concepts, verses… This story was written for fun, not profit.
Type: Gen, Het, romance, drama, action
Rating: R, for one scene at the end and violence.
Word Count: 21K+
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Minato (AKA Yondaime Hokage), Sarutobi (Sandaime Hokage), Nara Shikaku, Yamanaka Inoichi, Kyuubi, Kushina
Warnings: violence, language
Spoilers: the Naruto anime/manga series
Summary: Hermione Granger makes waves and enemies. Unfortunately they are competent enough to be a very serious threat. She ends up in a different dimension, on the Elemental Continent and meets a newly promoted Konoha jounin-nin, Namikaze Minato. They become intellectual friends and sort-of penpals. Hermione’s feelings change and being male Minato remains clueless. When the Kyuubi no Kitsune attacks Konoha Hermione risks it all to help her friend, just like she always does.
Author’s Notes:
- Written for 2011 Crossover Big Bang crossbigbang.

- Thank you Kristen, my beta reader, for taking a chance on a stranger and being so constructive. All errors are mine as I'm still waiting for her to get back to me on part 3 and 4.
- Thank you Amy! sparklycockles . I just had a look at the art and I Love It! I really don't know how you visual art types do it. I wouldn't have the first clue how to go about creating something so Together.
- AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; ignore the epilogue. Hermione and Ron do not get together. They Do Not Work in my universe.
- Completely AU Narutoverse since this fic changes events that occur before the anime/manga even starts. Canon history? Forget it.
- Wondering what is Naruto? ... a very popular Japanese anime/manga. Think steampunk, a world that has modern conveniences and villages that act as mercenary guilds for shinobi/ninja. These fighters can manipulate the elements (fire, water, earth, lightening, wind) and the senses (illusions and trickery). They do not act like the traditional (never seen in daylight dress only in black) ninja. You can find background information and translations on the series specific Japanese terms on Wiki, or by googling.
- Japanese names are reversed (i.e. Namikaze Minato: Minato is the first/personal name, Namikaze is the sur/family/clan name).
- Japanese/Naruto-centric terms throughout the fic, there is a separate glossary if you need it.
Last Edited: June 13, 2011

Links: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | Art | Naruto Terms/Glossary

Soul Bound 09/09 (Hermione/Spock - R)

2011-06-11T20:21:52Z

Title: Soul Bound - 09
Categories: Harry Potter, Star Trek AOS/Reboot/IX/2009
Type: gen, het, romance, drama, scifi, supernatural
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/nu!Spock
For: crossbigbang
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood and co, JK Rowling does. I don’t know Trekverse and associated characters, Paramount and various other holding companies do.
Author Notes: See the Master Post for full notes.
AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; ignore the epilogue. AU to Star Trek Reboot the movie. The Narada destroys the Kelvin but the events in the movie have changed because Spock’s motivation, character, and history have changed since he met a particular little girl. Butterfly Effect.
Acknowledgments: Janni, for the art created and my beta Kit.
Last Edited: June 11, 2011, Please note this may be revised & updated.

Summary: Reactions and actions of various individuals once the Enterprise starts her trip back to Sol System.

AN: AU core events of ST Reboot, between the Narada's destruction and Pike relieving himself of Command.

~ooO 09 Aftermath Ooo~

Spock poured a cup of fragrant Vulcan spice tea and passed it to his bondmate. She watched as he poured a cup for himself, as he inhaled deeply to appreciate the aroma and effects on the senses. She sipped her own tea comfortable with the silence. Yes the Enterprise was limping back to Sol System (they did not have warp drive) but the ship was mostly whole and the casualties could have been a lot worse.

James Kirk had been unexpectedly mature and compassionate, as demonstrated in his offer to aid the crew of the Narada. He immediately organized the crew to work in shifts to repair the Enterprise. And he had ordered Spock and Hari to take the first shift off to rest and recover. Spock had spent the first part of his 'downtime' meditating, waiting for T'Mia to return from Sick Bay, from stabilizing Pike. Upon hearing her cautiously positive prognosis he had insisted she rest while he prepared a light meal.

After finishing her tea she spoke.

"What are we going to tell the Admiralty?"

Spock had meditated on that concern. "Let the Vulcan High Council deal with the Admiralty. If they mark everything as classified and a Vulcan matter the Federation and Starfleet has no say."

She raised an arch brow. "Do you really believe they will let the matter go so easily?"

"No. But I am not concerned."

"They will pressure you. You are a Starfleet officer and you made vows."

"Then I will resign my commission."

That statement rocked her back on her heels. "No!"

His gaze was calm and serene. "Yes. But only if there are no other options."

She shifted slightly closer to him. "If it happens… What will you do?"

He reached over and stroked the back of her fingers, her hand resting on her lap.

"I have many ideas I would be interested in researching. The sensor data from the Narada and what the VSA has determined about your abilities is most intriguing."

"But you want to be a deep space exploration Science Officer!"

"I can still achieve that ambition. On a VSA research ship. I have also received offers to teach at the VSA, mostly extra-credit courses on new emergent-sciences."

That amused her. "How curious… The Vulcan who refused to study at the VSA is being asked to teach there."

"Yes. But that is life I have found."

She was quiet for a while. "You would not regret resigning your commission?" She asked hesitantly.

"I would not say so unless I am willing to do it." He brushed her temple with his fingers. "I would have no regrets T'Mia. I applied to Starfleet because I was looking for a place where I would be accepted and welcomed. I made a place for myself in Starfleet but it is with you that I am welcomed and accepted without hesitation. My commission cannot even match the benefits being with you gives me." He was still as he watched her absorb his words. "I will never give you up My'own. You are Mine." He added in fiercer tones.

T'Mia set her cup down and leaned against his shoulder. Logic stated she should meditate and rest but she wanted to meld with her bondmate first. In all ways. She did a mental calculation. They had enough time for what she wanted and sleep.

He did not say anything as she reached up and pulled his head down to kiss him in human ways. He did not say anything but he was more than willing to follow her lead.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hari frowned as he tried and failed to centre his mind for the seventh time. He shifted slightly grumbling softly. It was worse than Occlumency training from Snape. Focus was just out of reach.

The door intercom chimed. Giving up on meditation he rose from his cross-legged pose, the skirts of the rust-red wool-spidersilk blend robes falling smoothly to the floor.

"Enter."

The door slid apart to reveal a tall slim blonde with vivid blue eyes dressed in a long flowing coral-pink skirt and matching tunic-style top.

"Nurse Chapel."

She frowned slightly as she stepped over the threshold, the doors sliding shut behind her. "I told you to call me Christine."

Hari nodded shallowly. "Christine." Then he stiffened. "May I ask why you are here?"

Her expression was very serious. "I think we both know why I am here."

It was Hari's turn to stiffen. "I believe you made that promise in jest. I have no intention of holding you to it."

She shook her head and moved to touch one of the crystal statuettes on display. "You aren't forcing me to do anything. I want to." She moved until she was standing just in front of him. "There is something about you that draws me…" She reached up to skim his face, never actually touching skin. "I knew within five minutes of talking to you that you are important to me. I have no logical reason but what I Feel…" She trailed off helplessly. "I'm sorry for being so emotional but I don't have the words-."

"Hush." He pressed a finger against her lips, to silence her outpouring. Green eyes bored into blue as he examined her intently. He was so tempted to lower his shields to skim her thoughts, to determine her exact reasoning, but he didn't. He wouldn't, not without her express permission.

She lifted her hands to grasp his. He could feel the small shocks set off by the intimate contact. He gritted his teeth and focused on controlling his reactions. He almost missed what she was saying.

"…Don't want to lose this chance. It was like a dream until Doctor McCoy confirmed you were on the Narada with Commander Spock. I was on the bridge for emergency triage and I heard the fight on the open channel. And then when you brought Pike back in such bad condition… When we were stabilizing him I realized it could have been you. And if it were you…" Tears escaped and trailed down her cheeks. "I'm not sure what I would have done."

Hari blinked taken aback by the confession. And it was an honest one, not something designed to engender trust. He could tell that through their contact.

"Christine…" Hari was not certain of what to say.

"I'm not expecting forever or any kind of commitment. I'm just asking for a chance. I know Vulcans don't do casual so I'm willing to wait for you to consider the idea."

If he were any kind of purist Hari would have rejected the human nurse. But he was not; he was a hybrid born one-hundred percent human mage and not one to tamely follow convention. And it had been a while since he had a stable sexual relationship. His last short-term relationship had been with a Muggle girl he'd met in Athens.

Ever since Hermione had disclosed her plans his attention had been focused on their safety and maintaining it. And then after the blood adoption it had taken a while for his biochemistry to stabilize. His adoptive mother, T'Quil had insisted Hari test the limits of his new physiology and had arranged for a courtesan. The entire interlude had been more clinical and educational, not truly desired. After that Hari had not sought out any romantic partners. For one it was very hard on Vulcan where emotionalisms were highly undesirable traits in a partner.

But he was no longer on Vulcan. He was on the Enterprise standing before an attractive beautiful woman who genuinely desired him.

He raised his free hand and brushed her temples, over her psi-points. She leaned forward into his caress.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Absolutely."

After that Hari did not bother at attempting to dissuade her.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Acting Captain Jim Kirk sipped his second cup of black coffee. It had taken the first jolt to get dressed and moving. This one was to think more clearly.

"Coffee Mr Spock?"

Spock declined. He always declined a lot of fun stuff. No smoking, caffeine, booze, narcotics, sugar, junk food. But he definitely was not declining sex. Jim wondered if sex with a Vulcan was different from regular sex.

"It is." Spock murmured.

Jim blinked. "Excuse me?"

Spock arched a brow. "Your thoughts are unmistakable. You were wondering how sexual intimacy in Vulcans differ from your experiences."

Jim went very cold. "Were you reading my mind?"

Spock did not smirk but his expression was very close to it. "I am a touch telepath. I was not touching you so no. But I have observed male humanoids tend to react in similar ways when introduced to the partner of one they consider as asexual."

Jim had to smile at that quip. Then he forced himself to scan the notes on his PADD. He did not really need it with his eidetic memory but it gave him some time to regain his equilibrium. Finally he looked up.

"All departments have been sending in their reports. The Enterprise does not have warp but we are otherwise stable. Scotty estimates it will take 11 days to reach Utopia Planetia on impulse. Starfleet Command is not going to send anyone to tow us in. They have other priorities given the data packets we sent in."

Spock's expression was very sober. "Expected." He tilted his head. "Did they send any orders?" He inquired delicately.

Kirk nodded. "Yeah. Expect to be dragged before a Board for a complete debriefing."

A faint furrow creased the smooth brow. "That will not be permitted by the High Council."

Jim waved his hand. "That is not my call. It is something the Vulcan High Council has to hammer out with the Admiralty and the Federation Council." Blue eyes were laser sharp. "What I want to know are your plans. You know Pike is desk bound now."

Both men were very sober at that reminder. Christopher Pike survived and was healing thanks to the combined treatments of McCoy, T'Lara and T'Mia, but some nerve damage was impossible to repair. Pike could walk with braces but he could never run or manage uneven slopes. He could no longer serve on an exploration vessel, on any Starfleet ship that would be expected to serve in combat and relief efforts.

"With the destruction of so many ships theStarfleet is going to be short staffed. They'll probably formalize the field promotions of the senior Cadet class." Jim added.

Spock nodded. "Expected."

"You know they'll probably be offering the Enterprise to you." Jim noted in carefully disinterested tones. "You were Pike's XO. And there is a shortage of qualified captains."

"And I will refuse." Spock responded evenly. "Christopher knows my interest lies in the Sciences, not Command. I am willing to be First Officer but being Captain will limit me from engaging in what truly interests me: science and research."

Jim was taken aback by the blunt words. But he could see Spock meant them. "Okay. Just wanted to let you know they'll probably be offering you a Captaincy."

"I am content in my current role."

Jim nodded more briskly. "Very well then." He cocked his head. "Sorry if I'm intruding here but I never realised you were bonded. There is nothing in your records."

"There wouldn't be." Spock hesitated. "It was a deliberate choice at the time."

"And now?"

"The reason is no longer relevant. T'Mia is not a Starfleet officer or VSA graduate but she is uniquely qualified as a research scientist in more… unique aspects of physics."

"The science and technology that hid Vulcan." Kirk surmised.

"She cannot share her knowledge of psi-tech but in order to develop it she studied many different areas of science, obscure and not. She has a unique insight most conventionally trained scientists lack."

Jim blinked taken aback by the unexpected candour. "Do you want her to work on the Enterprise?"

"Yes. And any other posting Starfleet might assign me to. She can easily qualify as a consultant or civilian scientist. I know it is not common practice in Starfleet but if the Admiralty is unwilling to make concessions I can say with one-hundred percent certainty that I will resign my commission. It is standard for bonded couples to serve on the same vessels in the VSF. The VSA has also offered both T'Mia and myself the chance to teach and conduct research."

Jim absorbed the very definite challenge and ultimatum laid down.

"Understood Mr Spock. I will write my report recommending T'sai T'Mia be offered the opportunity to join the Enterprise as a civilian researcher. Given the data in the ship logs and mission report I have little doubt Starfleet will make her an offer. My only concern is the Admiralty. They will demand to know."

"They can try to get all the answers they want from T'Pau."

Jim smiled at the thought. He wished he could be a fly on the wall when Barnett or Komack tried to pry any details from T'Pau. The Matriarch of Vulcan would make mincemeat out of them first.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Amanda Grayson disembarked from the shuttlecraft and hurried to join the line-up for the transporter pads. She had waited on Suzaku has she had promised her bondmate. And the moment they had received confirmation the Narada was destroyed she was on the first transport back to Vulcan.

By the time she reached the Clan estate she was tired and dust stained. She ate a selection of fruits and napped. She could comm. Sarek but she did not want to distract him. She would wait for him to return home.

~o~

It was twilight when T'Pau woke her.

"You should be on Suzaku." Her tone was neither approving nor disapproving.

"My place is with my family." Amanda countered evenly. "Where is Sarek?"

"He is on the Enterprise." T'Pau answered after some consideration. "He will be Vulcan's emissary to the Federation Council."

Adrenaline shot through the human woman's veins. "Emissary? Why? What happened?"

"Everything occurred as expected. Now the Federation Council wants answers. Answers we cannot, must not give."

Amanda nodded slowly. "Sarek is well?"

"Yes. As is Spock, T'Mia, and Hari. They are all on the Enterprise returning to Earth. Their anticipated arrival time is later than usual since they had to eject the warp core to escape the artificial black hole."

Amanda nodded slowly. She ignored the second half of T'Pau's words and focused on the first part. Her family was safe.

"What about T'Lun?"

"She is in a healing trance. The healers say she will be fully healed in the next thirty hours."

"She will want to see T'Mia and Hari." Amanda pointed out evenly.

"Yes." T'Pau admitted.

An idea started to form in Amanda's subconscious. "You will be sending a full diplomatic team I presume, to extract Spock and T'Mia if needed."

"Yes."

"Then why don't I take her to Earth to see them? Grant her diplomatic immunity by giving her a minor position as an Embassy aide and let me take her with me."

T'Pau was silent for a while. "Let me consider it."

Amanda did not smile on the outside though internally she was cheering. That was as good as a yes from T'Pau.

~o~

Within thirty minutes T'Pau returned with a positive affirmation. Amanda had already packed her bags and was ready for the trip to Earth. She recognized most of the Vulcans joining her on the diplomatic shuttle. Most were Embassy staff and senior negotiators. A few were highly respected scientists and Council Advisors. One was a junior Healer accompanying T'Lun, just in case. One familiar face was an unexpected surprise.

"S'haile Vrehn." Amanda greeted the older Vulcan male formally. "I had not expected you to be part of this envoy." She admitted.

"I asked to be." He admitted.

Amanda could not help but notice how his eyes darted towards the small suite bedroom where T'Lun rested. A fierce maternal protectiveness surged to the forefront.

"Are your intentions towards T'Lun honourable?"

Vrehn started before recovering. "Yes." He admitted.

Amanda blinked. That was a shock. She honestly had expected him to hide behind the screen of Privacy.

"You… want her?" She needed to be certain.

Vrehn nodded once jerkily. "Yes. I wish to offer koon-ut so'lik."

Amanda accepted the answer. "Okay. I just have one suggestion." He tilted his head inquiringly. "Don't propose to her right away. When she wakes up she is going to be more worried about Hari and T'Mia. Once she sees with her own eyes that they are fine try to find some private space. Go visit some museums or parks with her. Get to know her outside the academic setting before proposing to her."

Vrehn was confused. "But our minds are compatible."

"Are all your interests and emotions also compatible?" Amanda countered bluntly. Sensing his dismay she softened. "Just get to know her better first. Humans call it dating. T'Lun was human, raised human most of her life. She will appreciate it."

Vrehn nodded. Satisfied she had gotten through to him Amanda turned the topic of conversation to more serious matters.

"Do you have a prepared response for the expected questioning on psi-tech?"

Vrehn nodded. "Yes."

"Pretend I am a Federation investigator. How would you answer to demands for information and blueprints?"

"First of all such technology cannot be activated or controlled by psi-nulls such as…"

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Spock was certain Starfleet PR had made plans for the Enterprise's arrival on Earth. He was right. They were ordered to use shuttles to bring down specific crew members. Acting Captain Kirk politely refused to include the reldai in the group, citing cultural reasons and had offered to add Hari and T'Mia to the list. Both refused believing it would be a counterproductive move.

The shuttle shuddered gently as it landed. Then the doors lifted open allowing the ramps to slide out and down. Kirk was the first one out the door and down the ramp. Spock followed once he was sure T'Mia was just behind him.

There were many races waiting behind the barricade of live Security Officers. And not all of them were members of the media.

Ko-mekh?

Sensing his tension and shock, T'Mia pushed around him and to his front.

While his fellow crew members broke ranks and ran towards their waiting families, T'Mia and Spock walked at a sedate pace with Kirk and McCoy.

"Someone is waiting for you Doctor McCoy." T'Mia announced.

And she was right. The moment McCoy saw what she did he was off like a shot. A few seconds later he was swinging a dark-haired little girl around in circles.

"Joanna." Kirk murmured.

"Yes." T'Mia was not one to type to allow friends or allies to wallow. "Join us James Kirk. I believe you will enjoy meeting T'Lun and Amanda."

Spock was secretly amused by the uncharacteristic shyness from Jim Kirk when he was introduced to the females who treated him with familial warmth.

He only hoped the rest of their time on Earth would be as pleasant. But secretly he doubted it. He just hoped the expected debriefing did not turn too objectionable.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Sarek glanced at the faces around him, his bondmate, family and kin. They were all tense despite their carefully neutral public expressions. Quickly he began summarizing the resolutions determined in the closed Council sessions.

"The Federation Council and Starfleet Admiralty has agreed to abide the Vulcan High Council's decision to classify the information to a short list of Vulcan citizens. We will still have to take precautions against possible black-ops seeking data."

"And if we catch possible spies?" Hari wanted to know. "Who has authority?"

"Vulcan does."

Everyone frowned.

"And what of the logistics of holding and transporting such criminals to Vulcan?" Spock asked carefully.

"They are very involved." Sarek admitted. "The Federation Council has agreed to have a VDF officer posted on the Enterprise near Spock and T'Mia for such an event."

"Anyone we know?" Hari wanted to know. If he wasn't happy with the name he Would be making a fuss.

Sarek's expression was very bland. "T'Pau has recommended granting R'tsu Z'rel Hari a field promotion in the VDF for his recent actions. It has been confirmed and formalised." There was a trace of teasing in the older male's eyes. "Would you be interested in the posting Hari?"

The answer was immediate. "Hell yes!"

T'Mia and T'Lun laughed as one.

"You only want to stay on the Enterprise because of Christine." T'Mia teased the one she considered a younger brother.

The tips of pointed ears turned green. "Not entirely." He shot back. "I'm not going to let you and Spock go gallivanting all over the universe without me around to help in case you run into trouble!"

T'Lun made a soft considering sound. "Your presence will help. The Enterprise is a powerful nexus of change and change can be negative and painful."

"Do you wish to accompany them?" Amanda asked carefully, uncertain of which answer she would prefer. She wanted Spock to have the best back-up in the form of his bondmate and her mage-kin. But she also wanted them to remain on Vulcan safe and sound. But then again, given recent events, perhaps there was no place in the universe that was absolutely secure against the threat of violence.

T'Lun smiled faintly, a Vulcan smile. "No. My path lies on Vulcan. I wish to continue psionic research in the VSA. T'Rea and T'Pau have agreed to sponsor my work."

"Any particular field?" T'Mia inquired interested.

"Non power focused fields. Medicine and Agriculture. Developments that can be sustainable in the long term using purely local resources."

"Like the fertilizer." Hari murmured.

"Exactly." Then her eyes fell on Spock her eyes almost glowing. "Be strong. Be true. The path ahead will be difficult but very fulfilling."

Spock nodded solemnly. "I will."

T'Lun turned to T'Mia. "I don't need to tell you anything."

T'Mia nodded firmly. "You don't. I know my place is with Spock. He is mine to protect and defend, just as I am his."

T'Lun nodded in acknowledgment. "Yes. If you are concerned about children do not worry. Starfleet will have to amend their current rules on couples and families if they wish to attract qualified people. As the Flag Ship, the Enterprise will be the test site."

Everyone blinked taken aback before seeing and comprehending her point.

Sarek and Amanda heaved internal sighs of relief. Both knew of the dangers in active front-lineStarfleet service. Having families and children on board would force the crews to exercise more caution in their missions. Caution that would hopefully translate into reduced casualties.

"How much downtime does the crew have?" Hari's question broken the pensive silence.

"Seven weeks. It will take at least six to complete the repairs." Spock answered. "Starfleet has planned for several press conferences and media events in that time. The next one I am expected to attend is in two weeks."

"Is it open to the public?" Hari wanted to know.

"Not without an invitation." Spock's eyes laughed. "But once you accept the posting on the Enterprise you will be considered as a civilian member of the crew andStarfleet."

Hari glanced at T'Mia who was looking very demure.

"I have already completed my application and paperwork to join the Enterprise Science Department. I received the acceptance confirmation yesterday. I suggest you get started on yours."

Hari sighed internally and nodded. "Understood."

T'Lun smiled smugly. Everything was falling into place, just like she had Seen. When the Enterprise finished her first five-year mission T'Lun was almost certain she would be an aunt. She was definitely looking forward to that.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Ambassador Spock (now known as Selek) smiled as he watched James Tiberius Kirk take Captaincy of the Enterprise. Everything was as the way it should be. His investigations had confirmed key members of the Enterprise crew were on board. There were a few unknown and unexpected additions but they were understandable given the massive losses due to the Narada. What confused him were the additions of two Vulcans to the Enterprise manifest. A male and female. His younger counterpart's bondmate and her brother. And she was not T'Pring.

"S'haile." A husky female voice murmured in precise Vulcan accents.

He did not react. He was too old to be so easily startled. He turned slowly to see two Vulcans standing a short distance away. The male was a familiar figure dressed in a Starfleet uniform and Science Blues, his younger counterpart. His female companion was an unknown but oddly familiar.

She had pale brown, almost golden eyes and curly light brown hair restrained just at the nape of her neck. She was shorter and curvier than most Vulcan women, her attributes defined in the simple hunter green jumpsuit worn over a black turtleneck and black boots. Over all that she wore a sleeveless pale dove grey robe that flowed to mid-calf, open down the front. The robes were enhanced with white, embroidery depicting ancient Vulcan script and old Terran-style runes. Selek did not have the knowledge to translate them offhand but he was certain he could once he gained access to a computer terminal.

The longer he studied her the more certain he was that she was not as she appeared. For a brief instant he was tempted to touch her skin. A rather intimate action given her clothing covered all of her but her face and hands.

And then she did something no proper Vulcan ever would.

She smiled at him.

"Kevet-dutar, my name is T'Mia. This is Spock." She gestured at her companion. Her voice was just as distracting when she spoke in Standard.

Selek forced his agitated thoughts into a semblance of order.

"You are mistaken. I am not an Ambassador." And it was true. He had resigned his position in order to continue his work on Romulus. For Reunification.

T'Mia tilted her head to one side. "You do not have to pretend. We know who you are. Ambassador Spock cha Sarek, retired Starfleet Captain. You tried to stop the destruction of Romulus in your world and failed. Nero came to this world and changed everything."

Selek's blood pressure dropped but he did not say anything.

She simply nodded and continued to speak.

"You can choose to believe or disbelieve. All I ask is that you listen. As you have most likely surmised, I am not a typical Vulcan. And you are correct because I am not. I was conceived and born human. Now I am a Human-Vulcan hybrid."

Selek started. "Genetic manipulation is illegal." He responded automatically.

She smirked. "The methods you know of are illegal. There are others that are not."

Selek frowned faintly and reviewed his knowledge on the topic. The laws were clear and all encompassing. They were designed to cover any potential abuse using future developments in genetic manipulation.

Sensing his bafflement she expanded. "I believe you know of the Q."

Suddenly it made sense. "A Q changed you to a Vulcan hybrid?"

"Not exactly. I did this to myself." T'Mia gestured at herself. "Using a less advanced form of what a Q is capable of." Selek stared at her shocked and confused. "My kind, my people are human but we have specific genetic differences that allow us to duplicate a Q's feats. Not on the scale or permanence of a Q without a great deal of sacrifice. We call the quantum-energy manipulation abilities magic."

"There is no such thing as magic." The answer reflexively spilled from Selek.

She did not take offence. His younger self looked amused.

"I do not care if you believe me or not. Just listen to me." She waited until he nodded in affirmative before continuing. "I was born a human in late twentieth century Earth. My parents were perfectly ordinary dentists. I'd known I was different since I was very young. In fact I've known Spock for as long as I can remember, since I was a child."

"That is-."

"Not impossible. We met in our dreams. He thought I was a construct of his subconscious until he accidentally melded with me when I was a baby."

That baffled the elderly Vulcan. "How?"

"I don't know. I suspect it is something the Q arranged. Spock and I practically grew up together until he decided it was time to be a proper Vulcan and cut me off."

Selek watched his younger counterpart reach out and grip T'Mia's hand in a Vulcan kiss.

"I had reached an age when I was starting to make plans for the future. I realised I could never have T'Mia because we lived in different times. And she was just as focused on me instead of those around her."

"It hurt terribly. A few months after we parted a woman visited my parents home and informed us I was a witch and invited me to attend a boarding school to learn how to use and control my abilities. It was lonely at first but eventually I made other friends and grew up. A lot happened, including a war but my friends and myself survived it. I was not happy but I was content. And then I was visited by a Q who looks like an Oriental monk. He showed me a vision of what could/would happen if I was not present. Nero would have succeeded in destroying Vulcan. The entire Vulcan race would have been reduced to less than hundred-thousand."

Selek's blood froze.

"I could Not just stand by and know and do nothing so I accepted his offer. Two friends who I consider brother and sister accompanied me on the one-way trip to this time. After arriving here I contacted Spock and through Sarek I met the Vulcan High Council. The High Council believed me since the reldai of Seleya were also having prophetic dreams of destruction and my information was confirmed via mind-meld." She made a gesture. "We worked with the VSA to develop a means to protect Vulcan and succeeded. Spock and myself are bonded now."

Selek raised an inquiring brow. "T'Pring?"

"I broke the betrothal before joining Starfleet." Spock admitted freely. "After what I shared with T'Mia I was not willing to… settle. I had hoped to meet a more compatible partner in Starfleet." He glanced down at the shorter female standing beside him. "I had never expected to meet her again."

Selek frowned slightly. "And Sarek? How did he take it?"

"Well. T'Pau supported my petition to break the betrothal. And my bonding with T'Mia. Mother as well."

There was nothing Selek could say to that. Amanda Grayson was her son's fiercest champion. She rarely went against Sarek but she would make her support, her views and reasoning very clear.

"You are most fortunate." Selek admitted.

Spock inclined his head. "I am."

Selek drew his shoulders up. "And your plans? Will you be resigning your commission?"

"No. I am staying as XO and CSO on the Enterprise. T'Mia will be joining me on the Enterprise as a civilian researcher."

Selek glanced at T'Mia. "And you have no issues with this?"

"Spock has always sought a posting on a deep space exploration vessel. He belongs on the Enterprise." T'Mia's explanation was brief and clear.

Selek could not resist smiling. "You are truly fortunate to have found a bondmate who understands and accepts you as you are. I was not so fortunate until I was much older."

"Who was she?" T'Mia asked curious.

"A former protégée. A Romulan-Vulcan hybrid." Selek admitted. "It was not a match of passion but shared understanding and common goals."

"And what of T'Pring?" Spock asked.

Selek winced. "She declared kah-if-fee at the Koon-ut-kalifee."

Eyes widened in shock. "But why?" T'Mia sputtered.

"She wanted to be with another."

"Stonn." Spock concluded.

Selek looked curious. "Yes. She said she did not wish to be wife to a legend."

Spock's response was blunt. "She lied. She has been in a relationship with Stonn since before I even left Vulcan." He hesitated then added. "I found the two of them together."

Selek shrugged. "It might have been the same in my time. I was not interested in her. What affected me was the way she chose to go about breaking the bond when I was mentally unstable, in plak-tau."

"Who did she choose as her champion?"

"My Captain. Jim Kirk." Spock recoiled subtly. "He survived though, thanks to Doctor McCoy's quick wits and actions."

T'Mia made a soft compassionate sound. "Well I for one am not unwilling to be wife to a legend." She laughed softly, an odd sound from a Vulcan figure. "I have always freely chosen to be around legends, to support them. I am not so childish and selfish to be unwilling to share the one I am bonded to with the world."

The future looked very bright for his younger counterpart. In fact for everyone.

"If you wish to return to Vulcan we can speak with Sarek and Amanda. You can choose to share your history or not." Spock offered.

Selek considered the offer. "I will think about it." And found he really was giving it serious thought.

For most of his life he had fled the stifling constrictions of Vulcan. But this was not the Vulcan of his birth and childhood and life. This Vulcan had suffered the backlash of the Kelvin's destruction and the resultant isolation. Many of the people he knew were different, and in the most positive of ways. T'Pau, Sarek, the VSA, the High Council… they had accepted the words and advice of a young human, a witch. Magic and science had worked hand-in-hand to create the miracle that had saved Vulcan from the Narada.

Selek realised he was truly looking forward to living in this changed new world.

"You may wish to inform Sarek I will be contacting him in the next seventy-two hours."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

The End.

Review, Review, Review

The End.

Soul Bound 08/? (Hermione/Spock - R)

2011-06-11T20:20:49Z

Title: Soul Bound - 08
Categories: Harry Potter, Star Trek AOS/Reboot/IX/2009
Type: gen, het, romance, drama, scifi, supernatural
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/nu!Spock
For: crossbigbang
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood and co, JK Rowling does. I don’t know Trekverse and associated characters, Paramount and various other holding companies do.
Author Notes: See the Master Post for full notes.
AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; ignore the epilogue. AU to Star Trek Reboot the movie. The Narada destroys the Kelvin but the events in the movie have changed because Spock’s motivation, character, and history have changed since he met a particular little girl. Butterfly Effect.
Acknowledgments: Janni, for the art created and my beta Kit.
Last Edited: June 11, 2011, Please note this may be revised & updated.

Summary: Several members of the Enterprise crew are introduced to these new odd Vulcans and they learn more about the First Officer's past. Working together, plans are made to take out the Narada once the Enterprise catches up to her. And they are successful in doing just that.

AN: AU core events of ST Reboot, stopping the Narada before she destroys Earth.

~ooO 08 Engaging the Narada Ooo~

Hari resisted the urge to fidget as he followed the directions to Sick Bay. It was very quiet and empty. A blue-eyed blonde nurse dressed in a blue tunic-dress under a white smock rose from her desk and came over to him.

"Can I help you?"

Hari jerked and stared. Her large liquid eyes were almost hypnotic.

"Yes, I wish to see T'Mia. Female, Vulcan, around my age, brought in less than three hours ago?"

Understanding dawned. "T'Lara's patient."

Hari nodded shallowly. "Yes."

"Follow me." So he did.

Hari found his attention being drawn more towards the slender curves and slim elegant lines of the figure before him. Mentally he shook his head and tried to focus. She was saying something about Hermione. Her condition was stable and her prognosis good.

"Sir, are you all right? You look weary."

Hari blinked. "Am I all right? Not particularly, but I don't have much choice. I can't stop and rest."

The pretty nurse cocked her head to one side. "Why not? There is nothing you can do right now so why don't you rest?"

"If I sleep I won't wake up." Hari admitted.

She looked concerned. "Fatigue is a warning signal."

"I need to talk to T'Mia first."

The blonde nurse studied him carefully. "Why don't you lie down on one of the unused beds? You look exhausted."

Hari shook his head. "I am. But I will fall asleep." He admitted.

"I can talk to you. Keep you awake." She offered.

Hari considered the offer and nodded. "That is acceptable. May I know your name?"

"It's Christine Chapel."

"My name is Hari."

Hari didn't know how but before he knew it he was involved in an unusually personal conversation with the pretty blonde nurse. He was sitting at her desk, drinking the tea she had prepared for him, and snacking on the shortbread she produced from a tin. He found himself sharing bits and pieces of his past, his childhood and his time on Vulcan.

He did not know why but he found it very easy to talk to her. She listened without judgment, without fear or scorn. And she felt genuine empathy for him, for any patient under her care. Occasionally she reached out to pat his hand, forgetting about the common Vulcan disdain for touching in public. In those moments he knew exactly what she thought, felt, believed… she was like the sea, deep and tranquil with underlying strength and veiled beauty. He wanted her to reciprocate, to feel comfortable with him, to smile and laugh in his company. He wanted Her.

Before he knew it he realised he was talking about Hermione and Spock.

"She is like a sister to me. He cut her out of his life once because she was a distraction… It maybe illogical but I believe he may do the same again. I had concerns when he declared koon-ut so'lik and she accepted. I still do, but she has made her choice."

"Koon-ut so'lik?" Christine pronounced carefully.

"The closest translation is marriage proposal." Hari explained casually. "The actual marriage ceremony, koon-ut-kalifee, will not happen for a few years though they are already bondmates and considered as spouses."

Both turned to the doorway upon hearing the sound of plastic cracking.

~o~

Uhura froze. She had only meant to stop by and find out what she could from her Academy classmate Christine. She had not planned on eavesdropping but she had been unable to help herself when she heard Christine talking to the younger Vulcan male. She did not have an excuse to be near the VIP suites and the other guests but Sick Bay was open to all crew members. Vaguely she wondered if Hari was a hybrid himself. He was much more open and emotional than Spock.

"The closest translation is marriage proposal. The actual marriage ceremony, koon-ut-kalifee, will not happen for a few years though they are already bondmates and considered as spouses."

The PADD she was holding slipped from her suddenly slack grip and hit the polished floors and cracked.

Both Christine and the Vulcan looked up and in her direction. Christine looked alarmed, he simply looked tired. One slanted brow rose challengingly.

"Do you need something?"

Uhura shook her head blindly. "I just wanted to talk to Christine."

The blonde nurse frowned. "I'm sorry Uhura but I'm on duty right now. Perhaps later…?"

Uhura nodded silently. Christine frowned. "Are you okay Uhura? You look shocky."

The xenolinguist specialist resisted the urge to laugh hysterically. All this time she had been chasing after a married man. No wonder he had ignored her attention seeking escapades.

Everyone froze when an insistent beeping chirp interrupted the tense silence.

Christine was up and moving towards one of the private rooms in the back. The door to McCoy's private office slid open. McCoy, Spock and an older Vulcan female stepped out.

"Looks like she is waking." McCoy announced.

"The term waking is not entirely accurate." The female countered evenly.

"It is the closest description in Standard T'Lara." Spock murmured as he followed the two into one of the rooms.

"And it is incorrect S'haile."

"True. Continue to use it since Doctor McCoy is unfamiliar with Vulcan translations."

T'Lara exhaled sharply. "Understood."

Nyota was torn between running and staying. Curiosity and her need to know kept her there, silent and watching and listening.

There was a popping sound and sparks flying.

Christine gave a sharp cry and stumbled back, patting her white smock hurriedly, snuffing the smouldering embers on the material.

"What in Sam Hill's name is going on?" McCoy's Georgia accents were more slurred than usual.

"She is transitioning between the aether and the physical."

"What does that have to do with those sparks?" McCoy wanted to know. So did Uhura.

"T'Mia is a powerful psi, one of the most powerful born in more than twelve-hundred years of Vulcan history." T'Lara responded evenly. "What she dreams she can create. If she dreams of fire there is a chance she will bring it with her when she wakes."

McCoy's eyes were very wide. "Why didn't you warn me! We need to take precautions."

"Which would be useless since she may dream of other things." T'Lara countered.

"Then what do you suggest? I don't want my Sick Bay to be destroyed because one patient is having bad dreams!"

"That is why I requested S'haile Spock to be present. He will anchor her." T'Lara tapped a electronic touch-screen panel on the wall. Several wall partitions retracted leaving the room much larger and more spacious. "S'haile, as discussed you will inject her with the pre-programmed doses as she transitions through each stage." She held out a hypo that Spock accepted and re-checked. "Once she is in Aru it will be safe to meld. Doctor McCoy and myself will monitor her vitals from here. There will be five Level 2 forcefields to contain any stray surges."

McCoy did not say anything as T'Lara raised the forcefields, isolating Spock and his fiancée behind them.

Lowering the partitions gave Uhura, Christine and Hari a much better view of what was happening. Nyota knew it was a violation of privacy but she could not look away.

~o~

Spock was vaguely aware of the undesirable presences. It offended his sensibilities and ancient instincts. T'Mia was His! No other had the right to look upon her when she was so vulnerable. He ground down on those instincts. This was for her safety. For the ship's safety. If she transitioned too quickly she could potentially warp the hull badly enough to tear a rent in the duranium plating.

She was still sparking. The fire-proof sheets contained some of the free-floating energy. Spock considered his options before coming to a decision. Swiftly he stripped off his blue Science Staff tunic, black thermal top and undershirt. He ignored the gasps from the human audience.

"I didn't know Mr Spock had tattoos." Nurse Chapel hissed.

"They are clan marks." T'Lara corrected mildly. "It is an ancient Pre-Surakian tradition to record critical events on one's flesh, to serve as a reminder and lesson."

"Really?" McCoy sounded impressed. "That sounds like a Rite-of-Passage ritual."

"It is more than that. Tattoos can serve as focus for psi-manipulation."

Spock ignored them as he cleared his mind and focused on the marks on his skin. An asymmetrical arrow-head containing a star on his left shoulder blade, a reaffirmation of his choice, his allegiance to Starfleet and the Federation. A standard band of clan markings around his right bicep indicating his clan S'chn T'gai, and his status as Heir to the House of Surak. An elaborate Celtic cross just above with name-glyphs on each arm, women who loved him, women who'd fight the universe for him: Amanda, T'Pau, T'Lun, T'Mia. Crossed rings of infinity, of marriage, on his inner left forearm surrounded by the double-headed Oroubous, the sign of eternity with the glyphs for fidelity, loyalty, trust, respect, patience, devotion, passion, and hope around it; his vows to T'Mia. Each tattoo was a work of art etched in inks of vivid jewel-like hues: red, green, blue, black, saffron, magenta. A modern Vulcan would have been aghast by such elaborate affiliation markings but Spock cherished each and everyone. They were visible reminders he was never truly alone.

He shifted his betrothed up, sliding behind her and adjusting their positions so she was lying between his legs, her back pressed against his bare front.

"Skin contact will help anchor her." T'Lara was repeating what she had already informed him in private. Presumably for the benefit of their unwanted audience.

He loosened the ties holding the back of the hospital gown closed, parting the material so it slid slightly down. He resisted the urge to explore the sleek smooth flesh hidden underneath the gown with his hands. There would be time for that later. He pressed the hypo against her slender neck, injecting the first dose into her.

Then he gripped her left hand, lacing her fingers with his, pressing his forearm against hers, aligning the Oroubous on her forearm against his. He inhaled sharply as the action created a full circuit, her power poured into him through their marriage tattoos and hands and flowed out through the chakra points on his torso and into her. She was synching to his reactions. Once she fit he pressed the hypo injecting the second dose into her.

It was harder now. She was pushing his limits, testing him. He did not give way. He was used to holding his ground against hers in the astral plane and the waking world. It was something they had discovered since their bonding. He could channel magical energies; he could not manipulate or shape it but he could absorb and store it with no physical damage. Some of the energy did escape and blasted around the room leaving scorch marks but most clashed and dissipated against the forcefields.

She inhaled sharply, rolling her head against his. A soft moan slipped from her. She was affecting her physical controls. She was in Aru now. He injected the last dose and tossed the hypo aside. He raised his now empty right hand to her temple and touched her psi-points to begin a meld.

"My mind to your mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts."

Her mind was reacting to his presence. Very strongly. Spock resisted the primitive urges to act upon those reactions. Instead he focused on bring her up-to-date as quickly as possible. She absorbed all the information he shared with her thoughtfully. She skimmed through recent memories and his reactions. He felt her smile in his soul when she 'read' his desire to renew their bond in more physical ways.

"I greet thee ashayam." She murmured as she turned her head, breaking connections for the meld. She sat up slightly and reached out. The forcefield closest to the bed collapsed and the emitters shot out sparks.

"T'sai!" T'Lara scolded her patient.

The corners of her full mouth lifted slightly in an unexpected smile.

"I am impatient to leave." The younger woman murmured. But she did not make any attempt to sit up or stand. She seemed content to lounge in Spock's arms.

"You are impatient to get to a private room with Spock." Hari responded dryly.

Amber eyes widened in faux shock. "Hari! You insult me." A very human action, a teasing rejoinder.

Hari snorted softly. "Do not even attempt at distracting me T'Mia. But then again perhaps you should complete your examinations quickly T'Lara. I really do Not want to watch the two of them make out."

T'Mia blinked and tilted her head to one side. "I do not understand you Hari. First you say Spock is too rigid and unemotional, and now you imply he indulges my emotionalisms. Make up your mind, which one is it?"

Hari made a scoffing sound. T'Mia's voice turned sharper, honey sweet.

"I thought you would be reassured to know Spock is fulfilling all my needs. If you are uncertain I do not mind sharing the details." Hari made a strangled sound. T'Mia ignored it and continued blandly. "It has been a while since we had the chance to have some private time. I truly believe eighty-seven percent of our associates and acquaintances in Shi'Khar have been interrupting us whenever Spock managed to find the time for a trip to Vulcan. Do you know anything about that Hari?" He made incomprehensible noises and looked away.

T'Mia slid off the bed, uncaring of her slipping hospital gown that bared her shoulders and a large expanse of skin above her breasts.

"Now listen to me. You are my brother but I will not tolerate your attempts at protecting my virtue because -trust me- I am definitely not a virgin. It's amazing the amount of privacy you can find using a broom or carpet."

The humans gawped. Broom or carpet? What on earth did household cleaning tools and furnishings have to do with privacy? And was she really implying…?

T'Lara resolutely looked at a far ceiling corner. This was a familiar scene, and would remain so until Spock entered his Time and formally wed T'Mia.

Spock did not flinch; he was used to T'Mia's shock-tactics. It was a violation of privacy but Spock had learned to see them as demonstrations of T'Mia's public claims on him; her willingness to fight public opinion, to defend what they shared rather than bend to conventional decorum.

Hari's reaction was more verbal.

"Mia!" He howled covering his ears. "Why do you have to do that to me? Now I'll never be able to fly without imagining the two of you…" He sputtered and trailed off.

She cocked her head to one side. "Good. Keep out of our business or next time I'll tell you about the chocolate cheese-."

"I give!" It was not a shout but close enough to it. "I won't interfere!"

Spock did not fight the faint quirk lifting the corners of his mouth as he picked up a folded pile of fabric and shook it out. It was a pale silvery mauve yukata-style robe made of heavy Andorian spidersilk and embroidered in white. It was a bonding gift from him to her; an article of clothing with… fond associations of their intimate activities.

He held it up by the shoulders behind her. She did not need a verbal cue to step back into the panels of silk he draped over her shoulders. Gracefully she pivoted on one foot to face him before shrugging the hospital gown off and down her arms and slipping the limbs into the sleeves of the robe.

Her eyes never left his as he reached out and arranged the folds of the material to cover her almost nude body. T'Mia had no doubts, no fears about publicizing their intimate relationship. In fact she did so almost defiantly, scandalizing the traditional elements with their emotional relationship. During their melds he saw her reasoning, events that shaped her decision to never submit unless it was her choice. Spock found it was logical to please her and he did enjoy irking the hide-bound conservatives. With the ease of much practice, he secured the ties of the garment and touched her shoulder, silently indicating her to turn. And she did before moving to stand before T'Lara.

"Forgive the emotional display." She murmured softly to the Healer. "Hari can be overly stubborn. And given that convention supports his views I chose unconventional methods."

"Understood." The Healer was smiling a faint Vulcan smile, a bare curve of the lips. "I had to resort to similar methods when I was carrying my first child." She scanned T'Mia using a tricorder before performing a shallow meld to verify her findings.

Spock refused to look at the shell-shocked humans. He wondered how long it would take for McCoy to recover and try to use the information.

T'Lara broke the meld and nodded at the tall male standing behind her patient. "She is stable. Refrain from Level Six and higher channelling for now. Focus on any theoretical work and let Hari run any experiments required." T'Mia nodded once and glanced up at her bondmate. T'Lara noted the action and continued blandly. "I recommend an additional two hours of rest before you participate in any meetings or work-sessions. There is no reason for you to remain in Sick Bay to rest."

The younger female reached out and pressed her palm against her bondmate's, entwining her fingers with his. "Thank you T'Lara." And then she began walking, pulling her bondmate along with her.

The rest of their audience were in too much shock to do anything until several minutes after the couple successfully escaped from Sick Bay.

McCoy stirred himself first. "Did you give permission for the two of them to screw each other silly?" T'Lara looked blank. McCoy corrected himself. "Have sex in the next two hours?"

T'Lara pursed her lips. "I cannot control how they choose to spend their time."

McCoy snorted. "Bullshit. I saw the look on her face. She's gonna find the closest bed or closet and screw Spock silly."

Hari moaned. "Please do not say that. I don't want to think of the two of them right now." He moaned again. "I need a brain scrub. I need a good Obliviate." He shook his head wildly, like a wet dog. "Forget it, I need to get drunk. I need chocolate."

McCoy laughed. "I can help with the getting drunk part with some Saurian brandy."

Harry made an offended noise. "Alcohol does not affect me. I need chocolate to get properly smashed. I do Not want to think of what they are probably doing right now!"

Chapel looked vaguely sympathetic. "I don't mind sharing my stash if you really need it."

Hari looked simultaneously eager and very pathetic. "Pleaase!"

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Kirk carefully refused to allow his gaze to fall below the collarbones of the civilian specialist speaking. Civilian specialist. A much better title for the reports than Spock's fiancée. The pretty Vulcan scientist who Spock has been fucking since her discharge from Sick Bay. It took a lot of effort to get past that little fact but once he did it was pretty clear T'sai T'Mia knew her stuff. Just like Spock. And unlike Spock she was better at dumbing down her explanations for non-geeks.

How did Vulcan survive the Narada? With a great deal of planning and high cost. And the apparent black hole that swallowed the planet? It never existed. The universe twisting to envelope and cause Vulcan to vanish? The results of an experimental technology capable of cloaking vast volumes of space more thoroughly than the most advanced Romulan and Klingon tech. As with most new technology there were very hard limits, especially in regards to safety. Limits that were ignored and pushed into the red-zone in order to protect the entire planet from the Narada. And unlike most conventional technology living beings were a major part of the process mechanism. Four-hundred and fifteen Vulcans died and all the survivors were suffering from burn out.

"This is a psionic technology. As per the Federation charter Vulcan will not be sharing anything concerning the mechanisms, physics, or math. If anyone wishes to duplicate our experiments I wish them the best of luck. Currently there are only three beings capable of acting as catalyst and control: myself, Hari and T'Lun and none of us are interested in risking our well-being without very logical and ethically valid reasons. The Vulcan High Council has agreed our data and prototypes will not be shared with any non-Vulcan agency or government. It is simply too dangerous and easy to misuse."

Jim frowned. "Then why are you here if you won't help?"

T'Mia raised an admonishing brow. "I did not say we would not help, only that we will not share any of the science or processes. Hari and myself are here to hide this ship as we hid Vulcan." She gestured around. "I must warn you, the Fidelius cannot be held for more than twenty-five minutes before the power sources are exhausted. In that time you can fly to within ten kilometres of the Narada and Nero will never know."

Jim felt his lips stretch into a smile at that bit of info. "Twenty-five minutes without being attacked is a lot more than what we had before T'sai T'Mia." He glanced around the table, at the Enterprise crew. "I think we can come up with a plan to take out the Narada in that time." He glanced over at Spock who had been content to let Jim take the lead in the discussion and brainstorming. "Do you need anything in particular to set up your cloaking device?"

T'Mia glanced at Spock who lowered his lashes briefly. Then she turned to Jim and spoke.

"Four of your best hands-on engineers, an empty shuttle bay, access to the deflector dish, conduits and Jeffries tubes."

Spock's gaze was even and unflinching. "On Vulcan the power was spread across the surface through what Mr Chekov called a power grid. It is not an inaccurate term; to be more precise it is a natural power grid network. In an artificial structure like a starship we will have to use the conduits as a substitute."

Pavel frowned. "Meezter Spock, vhat do you mean by natural power grid?"

Spock glanced at his PADD. His hesitation was enough to make everyone pay attention.

"The closest Standard term is leylines. The natural power flows of a planet."

Jim blinked. "You mean planetary magnetic fields correct?"

Spock looked hesitant. "That is not-."

Hari's patience broke and he interrupted the older male's response. "Call it magic, chi, ki, mana, chakra, the Force, or whatever. It is a special type of energy planets have, some more than others. Vulcan has known it exists for centuries but tapping into it and using it was considered impossible for a long time. This was an experiment to see if we could. We succeeded at very high costs."

Jim blinked and nodded accepting the information. He wasn't sure how much of it was bunk and how much was real but right now he was inclined to take everything at face-value because they really needed the break.

"All right then. T'sai T'Mia, do you have plans and an estimate time of completion? For your upgrades?"

She glanced at her PADD and responded. "Three point four seven hours."

Jim glanced at the crew. "While T'sai T'Mia and the engineers get to work why don't we brainstorm possible ways to take out the Narada."

"I feel my time would be best spent helping with the modifications. I have a thorough understanding of the math and physical requirements." Spock murmured.

Jim nodded. "Yeah. We don't have an experienced Chief Engineering Officer either. Both he and his second were killed. Their replacements are inexperienced and shaky."

T'Mia blinked and pursed her lips. "If you are seeking a good Engineer I would suggest making a detour to stop at Delta Vega. There is a Starfleet officer stationed at the small research outpost on the planetoid. His name is Montgomery Scott."

Sulu frowned and did some quick calculations on his PADD. "It'll add seven hours to our travel time. I don't think we can afford any delays. Besides, the Narada already has a huge head start on us."

T'Mia glanced at Spock. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Can your Communications Officer open a channel with the Starfleet outpost on Delta Vega?"

Uhura stiffened. "Of course!"

"Then do so. I need to speak to Mr Scott. In private preferably."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Three hours later the group reconvened in the Conference Room with a new addition, lt Mongomery Scott. Jim wasn't certain how it happened but twenty minutes after Uhura contacted Delta Vega one lt Montgomery Scott appeared on the Enterprise on the water filtration deck. When asked how such a feat had been managed lt Scott mumbled something about very old very weird Vulcans with equations for trans-warp beaming. Despite his odd inexplicable method of arrival lt Scott turned out to be a God-sent respite. With his expertise and leadership the most pressing repairs had been completed and the modifications T'Mia requested had been carried out.

Jim frowned as he listened to the ideas being thrown out. It was only now the sheer enormity of what they were undertaking hit him. A single Constitution-class vessel, damaged and crewed by inexperienced cadets and junior officers, was pitting herself against a vessel that destroyed the Kelvin, seven additional Starfleet ships, Vulcan's planetary defence net, a KlingonStarfleet, Rura Penthe, very nearly Vulcan and god knew how many other planets and moons in the last twenty-five years.

"If ve drop out behind one of the larger moonz, they are lez likely to detect us Keptin. If ve vait to use the new cloaking technology we can get clozer undetected."

Jim nodded. "Okay then. We creep up on the Narada. What next? Her shields are much more advanced than any I've ever seen."

"You must wait then." T'Mia murmured softly. "When Nero deploys the drilling platform the shields are not completely intact. The transporter and communication interference does not start until the drill is activated."

Understanding dawned. "We can probably transport a small team over during that window." Blue eyes iced. "I'm going to be part of the assault party."

"That would be most unwise." Spock's voice was unexpectedly forceful.

Jim frowned. "As XO I am responsible for missions of this nature. As Captain your first priority is the Enterprise."

"The VSA has provided us some… experimental means of destroying the Narada, unfortunately they are designed such that only Vulcans with the correct training and knowledge can use them. Given the nature of our task it is very possible I will not return and a Captain with command training and confidence will be required on the Enterprise so I am promoting Mr Kirk to Acting Captain, effective immediately."

Jim froze. "You can't go to the Narada by yourself!"

"He won't." Hari who had been silent until now spoke. "I will be going with him."

All the Starfleet personnel stared at the Vulcan civilian quasi-observer.

"I have been on the frontlines before. I have fought, killed and survived. I won't let Spock go to the Narada without me to watch his back." He stared at the other Vulcan with a faint wry expression. "Mia needs you to live."

T'Mia made a soft anguished sound. "Harry…"

"No, don't. You won't let him go alone so let me protect your soul-mate." He snorted softly. "Besides you are better at large scale casting and precision. Just as I am best in duelling and battle. Keep this ship intact and I Will bring him back to you."

T'Mia nodded once jerkily. Then she glanced at Spock who nodded gravely.

"It is acceptable. Hari has completed the field training qualifications for VDF agents. His… skills would be most beneficial. He is an advanced practioner of ke-ta-yatar."

T'Mia stared at Hari who shrugged slightly.

"It was something to do while you and T'Lun were busy. You know I am best in the practical aspects of DADA. This was simply an extension of Moody's lessons."

T'Mia appeared distressed. "But the Killing Arts…?" She trailed off uncertainly.

Hari did not look away. "Suus mahna is too gentle. I wanted to master a hard form."

T'Mia nodded again more fluidly. "I will ask the reldai klashausu if they will volunteer."

Spock tilted his head slightly in consideration. "Do not. They will not have the same training as Hari and myself. Our primary mission will be sabotaging and destroying the Narada. Secondary will be locating and rescuing Captain Pike."

Jim felt as though everything was spinning out of his control. But he did not have any real arguments against the proposed plans. He glanced around the Conference Room.

"Anyone have any disagreements? Better plans? Suggestions?"

McCoy sighed. "I suggest we set up secondary medical triage stations on all decks and high priority areas. Like Engineering."

T'Mia shifted. "I must meditate and meet with the reldai to prepare for the casting." She stared directly at Spock and Hari. "At T-minus twenty meet me in Spock's suite for the tools and a quick check."

Hari nodded. "We will."

Sulu stirred. "I'll plot a new course with Chekov to get the most interference. Titan has the strongest magnetic field."

Scotty murmured something about keeping an eye on his lady's engines.

Jim glanced around the table. "All right people, let's get to it then."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hari eyed the gun-like device being wielded like a weapon by Leonard McCoy.

"Oh come off it!" McCoy scoffed. "You're acting like a teenage girl getting her first ear piercing!"

Hari glared. "I'm a Vulcan getting my first ear piercing!"

"Doctor McCoy lacks the proper anatomical knowledge to understand." Spock murmured from a few feet away. He was standing before a biobed allowing T'Mia to go over his equipment and the extras she was tucking away on his person.

McCoy turned around to glare at the now First Officer. "What do you mean you pointy-eared hobgoblin?"

Spock glared. Hari choked on a laugh.

"Doctor, do you know why Vulcans do not like anyone touching their hands?" T'Mia asked very neutrally.

McCoy frowned. "Yeah. You have a lot of extra nerve endings in the fingertips. Vulcans are also touch telepaths and can sense thoughts and feelings by skin-on-skin contact. Like touch or handshakes."

"Hands are a highly erogenous zone." T'Mia explained briskly. "They are like lips or nipples on Terrans. Ears are also nerve rich and very sensitive."

McCoy squawked and jumped back, putting distance between him and the Vulcan he had been threatening with an ear piercing.

Hari heaved a sigh of relief and watched as T'Mia wrestled the device from the doctor and moved closer to her bondmate.

Everyone watched as she placed a small hand on his sternum and pushed. He allowed himself to be manipulated into sitting on the edge of the biobed. Leonard McCoy and Christine Chapel watched, unable to look away, as T'Mia reached up and touched the outer cartilage of the left ear, running her fingertips along the curve to the pointed tip.

"My'own…" The word was low and drawn out, uttered in a low threatening rumbling voice. He raised one hand to manacle the hand exploring his ear.

"Spahk." Her voice was low and murmuring, a soothing caress. She leaned forward and raised the other hand holding the piercing gun and touched the sensitive flesh to make the first piercing in the upswept pointed curve. "With metal forged by my own blood and magic I mark you. Thou art mine beloved. Parted from me, and never parted." She spoke softly in an obscure ancient pre-Surakian dialect.

"Never and always, touching and touched." He murmured concluding the vow in Modern Vulcan as she made two more piercings, one just below the first and the third in the base of the lobe.

She slipped the elaborate multi-post earring made of mithril, crystals and diamonds into the holes. Each post-stud was connected to each other by a delicate lattice of mithril chains embellished with amplifying and focusing stones. The entire creation of glittering silvery metal and gems covered the outer curve of his left ear.

When she was satisfied the enchanted device was securely set she lowered her hands and put the gun down. And did not resist when her bondmate grabbed her hands and entwined his fingers with hers, thoroughly kissing her Vulcan-style, ignoring their audience.

Hari looked away. His eyes fell on Christine Chapel who caught his study of her.

"Do you mind?" He asked her politely. "I promise I will not jump you like him. The reaction is mostly physiological and controllable; like dancing with an attractive female and accepting no for an answer."

Christine blushed and nodded. "Is there something special that has to be done?" She asked hesitantly. "T'Mia said something in Vulcan while doing the piercing."

Hari shook his head. "She was just soothing him. Repeating their bonding vows."

Christine nodded as she examined the elaborate delicate jewellery on the tray.

"Just make the piercing and push the post through. Two near the top and the third where most women pierce their ears."

The blonde nurse glanced over at the couple who were now standing now, practically plastered against each other. She smiled tentatively at the Commander. His expression was now sombre and restrained as usual. She grabbed the piercing gun and returned back to Hari's side. Methodically she sterilized it before piercing the green-eyed Vulcan three times in rapid succession.

He hissed in reaction, hands opening and clenching reflexively against his thighs; so he would not reach out and grab the nurse. Green eyes widened at what she whispered into his ear as she slipped the enchanted deceptively fragile-looking creation into the newly made holes.

"Come back in one piece and I'll give you more than this hand job."

Before he could respond she had pulled away and was standing beside McCoy.

Given Spock's carefully bland non-expression and the twinkle in T'Mia's eyes both of them had heard Christine's promise.

He wanted to pull Christine aside and demanding a detailed explanation of her actions but there was no time. He allowed T'Mia to check his weapons harness and tools one last time before the three of them exited Sick Bay and made their way to the Enterprise Transporter Room One. They were on a tight timetable.

On the way they passed curious crewmembers but none dared to approach the trio of Vulcans, especially since Commander Spock was one of them.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Jim fidgeted. Scotty had just trans-warp beamed Spock and Hari over to the Narada. In that instant T'Mia had activated the weird device she and her team had assembled in Shuttle Bay Two. The twenty-five minute count down started as Sulu moved the Enterprise in and closer to the Narada.

"The Narada haz not actiwated any veapons other than zhe drilling platform." Chekov reported. "Zhey have not detected zhe Enterprise."

"The Fidelius is holding." T'Mia's voice was soothing and tranquil. "Communication with the away team is stable and clear."

Jim nodded. "Very good. Join me on the Bridge as soon as possible T'sai T'Mia."

Five minutes later the turbolift doors opened and deposited a petite curvy female dressed in a tight-fitting navy blue, black knee-high boots, and a sleeveless robe made of heavy cream wool worn open on top. As she approached Jim could see the robe was heavily embroidered with various abstract designs in intriguing patterns.

She was carrying a basket containing two weird devices constructed of metal wire and glowing crystals. Jim clearly heard Spock's voice as though he were standing on the bridge right next to him. He could also hear the sounds of a firefight and body blows.

"Mr Scott has miscalculated. We have beamed into an occupied part of the Narada."

There were several tense minutes filled with stifled grunts and cut-off screams.

"Clear." Hari's voice was cold and calculating. "Spock has Pike's location and directions to the Command Center. We're laying charges as we make our way to Nero."

Jim frowned and glanced at the calm looking Vulcan civilian on his Bridge.

"Can't we tell them to get Pike first?" He asked her.

"We can't. The devices were designed to be strictly one-way and undetectable. To have a two-way channel would risk it being detected."

The Bridge crew and T'Mia listened to the two Vulcans fighting, clearing a path to the targets. The background noises did not sound like phaser fire. They sounded like projectile weapons, like slingshots and gunpowder canon fire.

"Keptin, zhe Narada has activated zhe drill. Et iz boring a hole just off zhe Bay. Next to zhe Academy and HQ."

Jim felt sweat drip down his spine. He hated this. He hated being trapped on the bridge, unable to move, unable to act.

"Patience James Kirk." T'Mia murmured as though she had just read his mind. "Be patient and wait for the opportune moment to strike."

Jim inclined his head but did not say anything. The old Jim Kirk would have said something tasteless and vulgar to break the tension. Acting Captain Kirk knew better.

~o~

Spock glanced around the cavernous warehouse sized bay criss-crossed by cat-walks and exposed conduits. He had known the mages were capable of great destruction but he had never imagined the scale and thoroughness until he saw Hari cast Fiend Fyre upon the Romulans seeking to interfere. When they were distracted by the living flames Hari transfigured and banished scrap and metal at their opponents. Those still living would bleed out without immediate medical aid.

"I fought in a war Spock. I have been fighting since I was born. I have learnt it is unwise to show compassion to enemies who will be at our backs."

Spock did not respond. He was a Starfleet officer but before that he was Vulcan and Heir to Ma'at S'chn T'gai, the House of Surak. They had spent months planning for this. Long before the Narada had attacked Vulcan it had been decided the mages would take the point in any combat since they had a better understanding of their limits and how to make the best use of their abilities in a fight.

"We are almost there." Hari murmured.

Spock glanced behind them. He could feel the intense heat from the fiend fyre creations rampaging through the Narada's corridors.

Finally they reached their destination. A bay holding sleek oddly shaped silver craft. Spock did not flinch as Hari cast red-tinged energies that knocked out the guards.

"Clear."

As they approached the ship the doors lowered. Hari smirked at Spock and made a gesture.

"After you."

Spock had seen this craft in his melds with T'Mia. This was the vessel of his future counterpart. The source of the Narada's terrible weapon. The treasure trove of incredible priceless future knowledge. Knowledge without the limits of psionics.

"Welcome Ambassador Spock." A soothing feminine voice interrupted Spock's examination of his surroundings.

Spock opened his mouth to respond when Hari shook his head. "No. The knowledge in this ship is too dangerous. It must be destroyed. That was the agreement with Q."

Reluctantly Spock conceded. It was what the High Council had reluctantly agreed upon after listening to the mages and the reldai of Seleya. He inhaled deeply and gave his first and only instructions to the ship his once-future-self had piloted.

"Computer, I am authorizing the Vulcan standing next to me as my second. He will be carrying out some modifications."

"Understood Ambassador."

Spock watched as Hari cast several wards and specific time-delay charms, to hide the craft from the Romulans, to warp and shatter the containment holding the red matter, to ignite the remaining anti-matter and set off a chain reaction of destruction.

Once Hari was done they set off to retrieve Pike.

~o~

All throughout one increasingly irrational Romulan dealt out violence on his subordinates returning with undesired reports. There were intruders on board and they could not determine who and where they were.

No matter how often they tried recalibrating the sensors they could not pick up on the ship responsible, or the intruders on board. In fact the only confirmation that there were intruders on board were the corpses, cut off emergency comms requesting back-up, and the rampaging sentient creatures made out of some strange energy-fire that was resistant to all fire-retardant chemicals. In fact the only way to stop them was to open that section of the Narada to space and vent them out into the black where the flames extinguished and they 'died' out.

~o~

Spock was aghast at Captain Pike's condition.

"Captain Pike is dying." Was the only report he could make on the human's condition.

Hari glanced over after casting another 'chain' of hexes to take out the Narada crew attempting to enter the make-shift Interrogation room. A wordless levitating spell tore a large storage cabinet from its mooring and moved it to create a barricade. Then he came over and cast a series of spells murmured in an obscure Latin dialect.

A 'hologram' of a human male appeared in mid-air, coloured in various hues with tiny script and numbers floating all around it. Hari frowned slightly.

"Once we get him back T'Lara and T'Mia will take care of him. If they can't heal Pike T'Mia can put him into stasis long enough for T'Lun to recover and treat him." He glanced over at Spock warningly. "They may not be able to undo all the damage but he will survive. Whether he'll want to continue living is another matter."

Spock refused to think on that. Christopher Pike was one of the more honourable and trustworthy Terrans he had met in Starfleet. He had taken Spock under his wing when the hybrid had first arrived, lost and confused.

Hari's expression softened. "Don't worry yourself into a state. T'Mia and T'Lara are Very good at what they do. They'll do all they can for Pike." His lips quirked into a half-smile. "So why don't we get back and let the healers do their job."

Spock nodded tightly before leaning down to carefully scoop up the battered older male.

~o~

"Enterprise three to transport."

Jim glanced over at T'Mia who was standing at the transporter controls under the fretful eyes of Transporter Chief Kyle. She had insisted on programming the transport herself.

He saw the bemused turning to awed expressions on Kyle and Chekov.

"What is she doing?" He hissed at the young Russian.

"She is dynamically entering the tracking coordinates for targets." Chekov explained. "Usually sensors provide the data but the Narada shields are still intact."

Jim winced. It was an unexpected hitch. The explosions and damaged Hari and Spock created had cut off power to the drill and various weapon-tracking systems but the shield generators had remained intact. They were advanced enough to be impenetrable.

"Unnatural." Bones mumbled though everyone ignored him.

"How is she doing it?" Jim wondered aloud.

"She is in contact with her bondmate and is using him as a beacon." T'Lara murmured when T'Mia ignored the question, more intent on her programming.

Jim flushed and cleared his throat before speaking slightly louder, directing his question to the younger Vulcan woman. "How much more time do you need? Your cloak is going to fail pretty soon."

"In one minute and thirty-three seconds." T'Mia corrected mildly.

"Yeah. Anyway, can you get them?"

She ignored him, focused on her task. Her eyes were distant, fixed on some unseen point. "On my mark hold your ground." She murmured softly. Her pupils dilated and shrank suddenly. She pressed a single key. "Mark." The word was whispered under her breath.

"Transporters engaged." Kyle announced unnecessarily.

There was a shimmer, a swirl of lights around a column, a solidifying outline that resolved into three forms, two standing with the third being carried by a Starfleet officer dressed in science blues.

Bones, T'Lara, and the medical staff were at the transporter pad, moving Pike to a gurney while Bones and T'Lara did a quick examination looking for immediate fatal threats. Finding none the entire medical contingent moved out.

Jim watched T'Mia approach the Vulcan First Officer and brush her fingers against his. He resisted the urge to look aside and instead cleared his throat.

"Report Commander."

Spock looked up, the soft warmth retreating behind blankness. He stiffened, drawing himself up, hands behind his back.

"All objectives have been achieved. The charges have been set. They are set to go off in less than three point two minutes."

Jim nodded. "The cloak is going to fail. We need to get to the Bridge."

~o~

Uhura resisted the urge to bite her nails. She hated the waiting. She wondered how Kirk could look so nonchalant when everything could blow up around them.

She turned around hearing the hiss of the turbolift doors. Kirk was back! With Spock and Hari and T'Mia.

"Report."

Sulu stiffened. "Once the cloak failed the Narada spotted us. As ordered I engaged warp and set a course to clear Sol system. They have followed us."

Kirk took his seat.

"Sulu. Drop out of warp. Uhura. Open a channel to the Narada."

Uhura blinked confused but complied. And recoiled from the sight of Nero's enraged feral rage surrounded by a haze of smoke and fire.

"KIRK! Where is the Vulcan! He is responsible for This! For everything! He must pay!" Nero screamed.

Kirk did not flinch. "Nero. Are you ready to surrender?"

"Surrender? No! I will destroy your world first! Like He destroyed Mine!"

Hari made a soft scornful sound. "How illogical. Surrender before your ship comes apart around you."

Nero's focus fell on the younger Vulcan. "YOU! The Art of Ahkhinahr is lost! How!"

Hari raised one slanted brow. "It is illogical to explain how to a dead man."

Nero's expression was confused. Then the floor beneath him rocked violently.

"Keptin, zhere is a major breach on zhe Narada. It iz expanding! Zhere warp field iz collapsing! Gravitational fluxes iz building!"

"Your red matter containment is breached." Hari murmured blandly. "Within two point one minutes your ship will be consumed within a blackhole."

"Keptin, the enemy ship is losing power. Their shields are down, sir."

Kirk's expression hardened slightly. "Nero. Your ship is compromised. You're too close to the singularity. Please accept our assistance."

The Romulan's expression hardened. "Never! I would rather suffer the end of Romulus a thousand times. I would rather die in agony than accept assistance from you."

Kirk shrugged. "As you wish. Sulu, arm phasers, fire everything we've got."

Kirk watched without flinching as the viewscreen went blank then displayed the Narada disintegrating into herself, collapsing, crumpling like a sheet of paper in a giant hand.

Then he relaxed slightly. "Let's go home."

"Yes sir!"

Everyone on the Bridge frowned when the black hole loomed closer on the viewscreen.

"Why aren't we at warp."

Chekov frowned and checked his instruments. "Ve are zir!"

Kirk tapped a button to open an internal channel. "Kirk to Engineering. Get us out of here Scotty!"

Scotty's voice came through clearly harried. "I'm trying Captain! The gravity well's got us!"

"Go to maximum warp then! Push it!"

"I'm giving her all that she's got Captain!"

The Bridge shuddered and a huge crack appeared in the ceiling above before expanding into the viewscreen.

"All she's got isn't good enough! What else have you got?"

"If we eject the core and detonate, the blast could be enough to push us away! I cannae promise anything, though!"

"Do it! Do it! Do it now!"

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

Review, Review, Review

Soul Bound 07/? (Hermione/Spock - R)

2011-06-11T20:19:25Z

Title: Soul Bound - 07
Categories: Harry Potter, Star Trek AOS/Reboot/IX/2009
Type: gen, het, romance, drama, scifi, supernatural
Rating: R, violence
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/nu!Spock
For: crossbigbang
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood and co, JK Rowling does. I don’t know Trekverse and associated characters, Paramount and various other holding companies do.
Author Notes: See the Master Post for full notes.
AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; ignore the epilogue. AU to Star Trek Reboot the movie. The Narada destroys the Kelvin but the events in the movie have changed because Spock’s motivation, character, and history have changed since he met a particular little girl. Butterfly Effect.
Acknowledgments: Janni, for the art created and my beta Kit.
Last Edited: June 11, 2011, Please note this may be revised & updated.

Summary: The disciplinary hearing of Cadet James T Kirk does not go as the Admiralty expect. Neither does the rescue mission to Vulcan. The Enterprise crew witness something never ever seen before… the results the result of years of research and effort, a miracle born from blending magic and science.

AN: AU core events of ST Reboot, the Academic Hearing, the mission to Vulcan.

~ooO 07 Mission to Vulcan Ooo~

Spock restrained the urge to sigh as he reviewed his hastily compiled notes on his PADD. He really did not want to do this.

"You look pretty unhappy for a Vulcan Commander." An aged crackling voice broke the quiet of the ante chamber attached to the main auditorium.

Spock stood up and saluted. Admiral Jonathan Archer was one of the few Admirals Spock truly admired. Even more so after T'Pol herself shared the details of the mission to retrieve and return Surak's katra to Vulcan.

"I have doubts regarding the logic behind the charges." Spock allowed cautiously.

"Would you care to share them Commander?"

Spock looked up into dark knowing eyes creased at the corners by a web of wrinkles. Archer already knew. He just wanted to hear Spock confirm it.

So the Vulcan did.

"When the Academy requested I create a simulation to test the character of cadets applying for the Command track I did some research on the characters of various men and women who were considered the epitome of leadership. All of them had certain traits but the one I felt most important was perseverance in the face of certain death. I designed the simulation accordingly and kept track of the students going through the simulation and their success, or lack there of, in Command.

"I noticed a particular trend that matched my research regarding character traits of good leaders. Students who took the test with no expectation of passing failed to even enter the Command track. Of the students who took the test expecting to fail but tried, twenty-one percent graduated from Command. Of the students who took the test with neutral attitudes, forty-five percent graduated. Of those who took the test expecting to win, seventy three percent graduated.

"From that last category five took illogical but calculated risks with very bad odds to fulfill both objectives. All five were put on the fast track and are currently in positions of greater authority compared to their fellow cadets.

"The Admiralty is not looking for a single trait but all of them: perseverance, intelligence, risk-taking, bravery. If you are looking for a cadet with those qualities James Kirk has them all. He willingly accepted blows against his self-esteem in reapplying to go through the Kobayashi Maru. He is intelligent enough to try various methods of achieving his objectives. He recognized the simulation is a no-win scenario and sought to change his environment so he could win. Is that not what a good captain does? Evaluate the situation and do whatever it takes for crew and ship remain alive and whole while meeting mission objectives?"

Archer seemed amused. "Barnett calls reprogramming the simulation cheating."

"A good general cheats on every battlefield. Why should he accept the conditions set if he can improve them in his favour? There is no conventional solution so Cadet Kirk used an unconventional one. A good captain seeks and uses all leverage against the enemy."

Archer tapped his cane against the ceramcrete floor. "You are quite correct Commander. Verimont, the Admiral in charge of the Command Program has been using cadet reactions as a filtering tool for the program for years now."

"Then why has Cadet Kirk been charged?" Spock wanted to know.

Archer looked tired. "Kirk is a good boy but he is more than a little brash and headstrong. He is not the sort to just lie back and take things. He will want change, he will demand it if he believes it is best. He is not the sort of Officers the desk-jockeys want to promote. But he is exactly the type of Captain Starfleet needs right now. Just like his father."

The elderly human stiffened and glared. "Barnett is interfering where he has no say. You will do what is logical and critique Kirk's character, the strengths and weaknesses. Try to avoid commenting on how we select candidates for Command track training."

~o~

Jim Kirk frowned as he tugged down on his red jacket as he listened to the charges. He had expected to be pulled before a disciplinary board for cheating but he didn't expect it to be so public! In front of the whole Academy and a full table of five Admirals. His spine stiffened as he realized just what that bastard Barnett was trying to pull.

"I reserve the right to face my accuser."

Admiral Barnett smirked. "Commander Spock? Please step forward."

Jim stiffened and turned to face the placid looking Vulcan dressed in plain blacks step down to stand beside him. WTF? Was he mad because Jim had hacked into his precious Kobayashi Maru simulation?

"You may begin Commander." Barnett proclaimed graciously.

The Vulcan gripped his wrists behind his back and began speaking slowly and clearly.

"The Kobayashi Maru simulation was designed to be a no-win scenario, to test the character of the cadets taking it, to determine their reaction in the face of certain death: Would they break down and collapse or would they continue to lead despite seemingly impossible odds. Cadet Kirk might have violated regulations regarding access to restricted Starfleet databases but he has passed the Kobayashi Maru."

Barnett turned purple. "Commander!"

"Cadet Kirk may be charged on Section Seventeen, Article Five, Point twenty-one regarding illegal access to Starfleet property but he cannot be charged on Section Twelve, Article One, for academic dishonesty. He did what was necessary to succeed in an untenable situation; he changed the rules. The method he chose deliberately left evidence that implicated him. I believe the Cadet wanted a hearing to challenge the validity of the test. Is my conclusion valid Cadet Kirk?"

Jim bestirred himself. "Well yeah. The Kobayashi Maru is unbeatable and that's not realistic. I don't believe in no-win scenarios. There is always a way; a real slim chance but something more than zero." He glared at Barnett. "I tried submitting requests for a more realistic evaluation but they kept getting rejected."

"How curious." Spock murmured blandly. "I never received any such request. My TA for computer science usually processes any requests regarding the Kobayashi Maru and forwards them to me. I must review the mail program archives to see if there are any other requests that Lieutenant Barnett-Herron has failed to forward to me."

Admiral Barnett stiffened at the veiled insinuation. He opened his mouth but before he could speak a Lieutenant in Operations scarlet entered through a side door.

"Admirals. We've just received an emergency distress signal. From Vulcan."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Spock did not hesitate once the orders came through. Every single senior cadet had been ordered to report for assignment. Spock needed to ensure certain individuals were on the Enterprise. He glanced through a PADD listing the cadets and made a few changes, moving around assignments so all of the names T'Mia specified were on the Enterprise. All were easily justifiable as the individuals in question were among the best in their specialities. And as Starfleet's flag ship the Enterprise deserved the best of the best. However there was one file he could not adjust without setting off alarms: James Tiberius Kirk who was on academic suspension.

James Kirk had to be on the Enterprise. He watched the human challenge the Staff Sergeant and kick a storage crate in anger when being informed of his suspended status. He watched Cadet Leonard McCoy inject Cadet Kirk with something that induced a strong reaction in the younger male. He did not interfere as McCoy manoeuvred Kirk onto a shuttle for the Enterprise claiming Kirk as his responsibility as attending medical officer.

He turned away and made for his own shuttle. Kirk would be on the Enterprise as T'Mia had requested. Now, Spock needed to report to own assignment: the Enterprise.

~o~

Christopher Pike resisted the urge to pace as reports started coming in from all departments now that the Enterprise was underway. The Enterprise was supposed to go on her first shakedown cruise, not into disaster relief with a crew complement of mostly inexperienced cadets!

A familiar hiss caught his attention. He glanced to the turbo lift and its single occupant. Spock was finally showing his face. Pike wondered what had kept the younger male from the Bridge during the undocking and first launch. It had to be something important. But it was odd Spock had not informed Pike of his delay before now.

"Commander."

"Captain. May I speak to you in private."

"I'm a bit rushed right now Spock. Reports are coming in."

"It relates to our current mission."

Pike stiffened. "You have information on the distress call from Vulcan?" Spock did not answer; he waited. "Join me in my ready room Commander. Lieutenant Haneeba, you have the conn." He hoped Spock had a really good reason for not sharing what he knew earlier during the mission planning session. Pike settled behind his desk and waited, his hands linked before him on his desk. "Sit down and make your report Commander."

Spock obediently took one of the guest chairs on the side of the table closer to the door.

"We are flying into a trap." The Vulcan surmised bluntly.

Pike stared hard. "Do you have any proof of this?"

Spock hesitated. "Nothing the Admiralty would accept."

That spiked Pike's automatic retort. "What do you mean?"

Spock looked away for a brief moment before turning to face the older human.

"It is not in my file but I am… betrothed."

Pike was confused. "Yeah, I expected it. From what I've been told all Vulcans are matched up before they turn ten."

"As was I. T'Pring broke our bond when I decided to study at Starfleet Academy instead of the VSA. In her eyes my choice was illogical."

Pike was curious but he held his tongue. Pushing Spock only turned the Vulcan stubborn.

"Two point six years ago I met an old childhood friend I had not communicated with due to my own choices. We were bonded during my leave of absence."

Pike blinked. "I had wondered why you made that request in such a hurry on short notice." He admitted thoughtfully.

The smooth unflinching visage cracked a micron. "I had lost T'Mia due to my own choices once. I was not willing to loose her permanently a second time. She is… extraordinary. Anyone she accepts tend to… resent having to share her with others."

The unspoken confession rocked Pike back. This was the closest admission to feeling love, jealousy, and regret Pike had ever heard from a Vulcan. He nodded slowly.

"Okay. So I assume your fiancée is on Vulcan."

"Yes. And our bond is unique by Vulcan standards. If I open the connection on my end I can sense strong reactions from her, even when I am on Earth. I cannot make out too many details but right now she is concerned."

"Will you be able to get a more complete picture when we are closer to Vulcan?"

"Yes."

"Is that everything Spock?"

"No."

Pike swallowed hard. What other Vulcan bombshells were going to be dropped on him? "Go on."

"The Vulcan High Council has been expecting this attack for some time now."

"What?" Pike was taken completely aback. "Why didn't they tell someone? Starfleet could have sent ships weeks ago if we were informed!"

"There is no scientific or logical reason to believe the source."

This confused Pike even more. "What do you mean Spock?"

"Christopher, you know we are a race of telepaths."

"Yes."

"And you know there are a variety of talents among humanoid psis."

"What does telepathy, telekinesis and pyrokinesis have to do with this?"

"Vulcans once produced individuals with the capacity to use multiple psi powers with terrible effectiveness, in civilian life and battle. Most of these gifts are emotion based and were lost once most of the population started following the Teachings of Surak. Many Vulcans still bear the genes for the talents but they rarely become full-blown. If they do most choose to join the Temples and Monasteries at Seleya and Gol; to control and hone their abilities."

Pike nodded slowly absorbing the information. Vulcans were a private people. He could see why they would not share this information with outsiders. Most other Federation planets had bad histories regarding psis or anything resembling augments. The only exceptions were races where psis made up a majority of the populace.

"I'm assuming one of these priests have something to do with your info."

"One of the rarer talents is clairvoyance, or prophecy. The future isn't an easy thing to predict. Every moment is in flux until it happens; events can to either way and the seer does not know until it happens. The strongest seers can generally only see two hours into the future on a major event affecting large groups of people he or she has personal bonds to." Spock's expression was very sober. "The priestesses of Seleya have been dreaming of death and destruction, of Vulcan dying in fire and ice for two years now. The cause has never been identified, only that it is huge and all encompassing.

"Their historical accuracy unquestionable so the High Council started evacuating significant percentages of the civilian populace to various Federation planets and colonies."

Pike sighed. "I see why they've kept this under wraps. Everyone believes the Vulcans are logical and scientific. No one would accept this explanation and justification."

Spock inclined his head. "Correct."

"So you think this warning dream is happening right now. We're going to be sailing into a situation that could cause destruction on a planet-wide scale."

Spock blinked. "It is only logical to take precautions. The priestesses of Seleya have never been wrong." He hesitated then continued. "T'Mia, my betrothed, has a sister who dreams like the priestesses of Seleya. T'Lun dreams of fires burning in the sky, a sword shaped from a star killing her, the ground breaking apart and falling into darkness. Most prophetic dreams are usually in metaphors but for so many to have similar dreams… is disturbing."

Pike drummed his fingertips against his desk. He completely understood the Vulcans reasoning for keeping quiet. If anyone had come up to him claiming to have had a warning dream of a future disaster he would have completed the paperwork for a Section Six. Even now he had no evidence; nothing but his gut. But if the Vulcans were taking this seriously so would Chris Pike.

"All right. We're going to take all the precautions for possible enemy action."

Pike rose from his chair and exited his ready room followed by his First Officer.

And stepped out into chaos.

"What is going on?"

He blinked and stared at the young man in basic black pants and undershirt without a tunic indicating his department and rank being restrained by two Security officers.

"Kirk? What are you doing here?"

"Captain! You've got to stop the ship! We're flying into a trap!"

Pike sighed internally. "So I have been informed Mr Kirk. Show me your proof."

Kirk blinked confused by Pike's calm and unusual response. Slowly then more surely he made his report. A Klingon transmission translated by Uhura describing an attack on the Klingon penal colony Rura Penthe, by a single Romulan ship, which decimated the Klingon fleet and Rura Penthe. And a strange lightening storm in mid-space.

"Just like the one in your dissertation on the Kelvin." Kirk concluded.

Pike inhaled sharply. "All hands prepare for battle stations. Do we have a Communications Officer who can translate Romulan?" A slim beautiful dark-skinned female cadet in Operations Red stepped up. "Name?"

"Uhura sir. I'm fluent in all three dialects."

"Take over from Lieutenant Kaylie. I want to know if there is anyone not Vulcan or Starfleet out there Uhura."

She nodded and took over the Communication Station.

~o~

Uhura was pleased. She was on the Bridge, close to Spock now. She now had the chance to demonstrate her competence and professional skills in real-life situation, to prove to Spock she was more than a good student, that she was a mature capable adult now and more than ready to make and handle adult commitments and responsibilities.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Jim stared out blankly. In his mind's eye he could see the debris field. A large fragment bearing the letters 'Farrag' floating in the blackness of space. They were gone. All seven ships. The entire senior cadet year that was not on the Enterprise was dead. In numb shock he listened to Nero's demands. And then he listened to Pike's orders.

He snapped to life.

"You can't surrender yourself sir! There is no guarantee Nero will keep his end of the deal and not destroy the Enterprise!"

Pike smiled faintly. "You will follow my orders Acting First Officer Kirk. You and your team will do an orbital skydive and disable that drill. Once you have succeeded the transporters will operation and Transporter Chief Kyle will beam your team back on board. Don't let me down Jim."

Jim stiffened. "I won't sir."

Pike turned to Spock. "Spock, you are Acting Captain now. Do what you have to do to stop the Narada. Nero destroyed seven Starfleet ships and he seems set on destroying Vulcan. He is dangerously unstable if all the reports are accurate."

"Understood Captain."

Pike glanced over at Kirk. "Find a spacesuit and anyone else qualified for orbital skydives and close-combat. Suit up and meet me in Shuttle Bay Two."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Spock resisted the urge to pace on the Bridge. He wanted to beam down to the planet, to run to T'Mia and drag her back to the Enterprise, to fragile safety. But the transporters weren't working. What was taking Kirk so long?

Chekov was making unhappy sounds as he recalibrated sensors and reported on the increasing seismic activity on the planet below. It would not be long before the drill caused permanent damage destabilizing the fault lines passing under the Langhorn mountains. The L-H canyon was the primary 'backbone' fault line on the Northern Continent. If it slipped the damage could very well be the disaster predicted by the Seers.

"Komm-. Keptin Spock. Zenzors are picking up unusual energy zignatures all across the planet. It ess almost on a kounter-rezonance frequency to the zeismic tremors."

Spock stiffened. "Is it specific to power stations or populated areas lt?"

Chekov shook his curly head. "Nyet. It does not match the recordz ve have of the planetary pover gridz."

"Overlay the sensor readings over a planetary map on the view screen." Spock ordered.

And watched as the Navigation officer did just that. The outlines of the primary landmasses, major towns. Coloured lines indicating underground transportation and power lines. And a silvery network overlaying it all, lines connecting specific points on sacred lands, national parks, ancient estates and battlegrounds.

"The leylines and nodes."He murmured in Vulcan. Open the bond darling. He called out mentally. She did not respond, intent on her duties.

"Keptin?" Chekov was confused.

"Report."

"Zeismic tremors have fallen two point four degreez in magnitude." Chekov allowed. "Zhe unknovn power network is ztabilizing the zeismic activity. Keptin, do you know vhat that grid is running on? I do not detect any zigns of materials that would be used in pover cablez or transmizzion linez."

"It is an experimental model developed by the VSA." Spock temporized. He knew the network was more the creation of T'Mia and T'Lun using data from Seleya. The VSA provided funding, skilled labour and the labs to test and refine the prototype concept designed by T'Mia: A network that would gather and amplify a planet's natural magic.

"Captain! Communications and transporters are working!" Uhura reported excitedly.

Kirk's voice came through the comm. "Enterprise! We can use a quick pick up here!"

"Transporter Room One. Beam Kirk and Sulu up." Spock ordered.

"I'm trying Captain! They are falling too fast for the computer to compensate. And the fluctuating gravitational fields are not helping!"

"Keptin I can do it! I can beam them up!"

Spock gave assent and paid little attention to Chekov rushing off the Bridge.

Everything indicated Jim Kirk and Hikaru Sulu would survive so Spock chose to focus on what was happening on the planet below.

He did not pay attention to Kirk, Sulu, and Chekov exiting the turbo lift onto the bridge. Kirk and Sulu were still in their spacesuits, faces bruised from the terrific gee-forces and the fight on the weapon platform.

"Captain." Kirk's voice was very controlled and strained. "What are your orders?"

"We wait Mr Kirk."

Kirk snapped. "Wait? Captain that weapon of theirs nearly opened a crack in Vulcan's crust down to the lower mantle! We have to stop them before they duplicate what they just tried to do to Vulcan to some other hapless planet!"

"And how would you suggest we stop them?" Spock asked in tranquil tones he did not feel. "If our theories are right the Narada destroyed the Kelvin, Rura Penthe, the Klingon fleet. And we know she destroyed Vulcan's planetary defences, the local defence forces and seven Starfleet vessels."

"We have to do something! We can't just sit here and twiddle our thumbs!"

"Control yourself Mr Kirk or I will have you thrown in the brig." Spock's voice was iron hard. He was desperate to beam down to the planet, to go to his other half. But he did not because it was her wish he remain on the Enterprise.

"Keptin. The Narada haz juzt launched zomething at Wulcan! Zhe trajectory vill take it into the chasm the drill created."

Spock froze and watched as a small insignificant tube flew down towards the planet.

Every instinct screamed that tube was dangerous. It was the finishing blow.

T'Mia! Do it! Do it now! Before it is too late!

The entire Bridge crew watched in horrified shock as reality began to 'twist', like some unknown hand was twisting existence into a knot, 'hiding' Vulcan itself behind a void. The sensors screamed as the gravitational forces in the surrounding space tore the Enterprise out of a stable orbit and 'down'.

"Pull us back!" Spock ordered calmly. "Now!"

Kirk clung to the railing as the ship stabilized and reoriented itself 'up'. "What just happened? Where is Vulcan?"

"Zhere vaz a huge grawitational build up." Chekov reported in a trembling voice. "It vaz like a black hole had built up and zwallowed zhe planet."

"Was it from whatever the Narada launched?" Jim wanted to know.

"I don't know!" Chekov exclaimed shrilly. "Zhe zensor readingz were too compromised by zhat odd radiation from zhe experimental power grid. It is impozzible to pinpoint the exact effectz of that device."

~o~

Jim turned and stared at the Vulcan who was still seated in the Captain's chair with his usual stony expression. Was he made of stone? Did he not comprehend what just happened? That his planet was gone? Jim wanted to blame Spock for not acting more quickly, more decisively.

But if Jim was really honest he wasn't sure what he would have done if He was Captain. It had happened too quickly. And no one could have anticipated the sheer destructiveness of the Narada's weapon. How could anyone have created a device that created a device that could generate a blackhole so powerful, so quickly, it could swallow up a planet like Vulcan in the blink of an eye!

Spock was still sitting, still staring at the view screen, as though waiting for something to happen. Did he expect the planet to pop back into existence? Vulcan was gone! The Narada had destroyed it!

"Keptin, zhe Narada has gone to impulse power and iz leaving thiz region."

"Cadet Uhura, send a transmission packet with a synopsis and all sensor data upto the device being launched from the Narada to all Star bases with instructions to forward to all Federation worlds. Send a Priority One communication to Starfleet HQ with copies of full sensor data." Spock announced.

Jim froze when he realized the implications of what had just happened. They had proof the Narada was capable of wiping whole planets out of existence. Who knew which planet Nero would target next?

"Earth." The answer came to him. "Nero will go after Earth next. We have to stop him before he does the same thing to Earth."

"Given what we know I estimate the likelihood of Nero targeting Earth is ninety-eight point seven three percent."

Jim frowned. Spock was way to calm. "Captain, what are we going to do?"

"We are going to wait."

Jim snapped. "For what? Nero to do the same thing to Earth? We have to follow the Narada and stop her!"

Spock glared. For an instant Jim quailed before steeling his resolve. Spock was probably hurting and in shock. But they could not afford to waste anytime.

"Captain we have to act now."

"And what would you propose the Enterprise do once she catches up to the Narada?"

Jim opened his mouth and shut it. "I'm not sure." He admitted. "But surely we can come up with some sort of plan between then and now!"

Spock leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I would prefer to have better resources before pursuing such a dangerous opponent."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Jim snapped. "We should be rendezvousing with other Starfleet vessels and chasing the Narada down."

Spock inhaled deeply. "No. We will wait."

"Wait? For what!"

"For a few Aces Mr Kirk."

Jim gaped and wondered if Spock had somehow lost it. Vulcan was gone! Sensors were not picking up any VSF or allied vessels. In fact the only crafts were a few civilian freighters and smaller inner-system crafts that managed to escape the Narada's attention.

Jim debated his options. He was pretty sure anyone would agree with him that Spock had somehow lost it. Why else was he insisting on hanging around the gravesite of his home world? Was he punishing himself some how?

"Captain! Gravitational fluxes building! It has a similar frequency pattern to the fluxes that had pulsed just before Vulcan was consumed."

"We have to retreat!" Jim noted calmly wondering silently why he wasn't yelling.

"Hold position." Spock ordered in iron hard tones. "Prepare for gravity surges. Use tractor beams on any smaller intact crafts that might be drawn in."

Jim watched as Sulu and Chekov obeyed Spock.

Uhura gasped. "Captain! Something is happening!"

Blue eyes almost popped as space twisted once more and flattened out to reveal a very familiar red planet.

"Captain! Sensors picking up planetary transmissions. The strange energy grid is collapsing. There are only thirteen lines running across the entire planet now at much lower levels than before. Thirteen point one three times to be exact.

Spock nodded. "Are there any transmissions from the planet? From Shi'Khar, the VSA or the VDF?"

Uhura frowned then nodded. "There is one coming from Shi'Khar, from the private estate of Ambassador Sarek."

"On screen." Spock ordered.

Everyone's attention focused on the viewscreen.

The Vulcan on screen was clearly exhausted, his face mottled with bruises and emerald green eyes bleeding blood green tears.

"Spock." His Standard was spoken with a British accent.

"Hari." Spock acknowledged evenly as he leaned forward. "Report."

"The Fidelius was a success at tremendous cost. Four-hundred and fifteen priestesses and monks are dead from holding the secret. T'Rei is in a healing trance but she is expected to recover fully. T'Lun is in an induced coma suffering massive core drain from hiding the freighters and vessels leaving the planet. She cannot be woken for at least ten days without risking permanent impairment."

"T'Mia?"

"She is in a self-induced healing trance. She will be well enough in three hours but do not expect us to duplicate this for Earth. We only have five uninjured Acolytes with the necessary training and mindset. Both T'Mia and myself are nearly completely drained."

Spock nodded. "Very well. Prepare for transportation to the Enterprise: you, T'Mia, the priestesses, their guardians. Bring all necessary supplies with you."

Hari nodded. "I will call when we are ready. Expect contact from Sarek and T'Pau."

Spock nodded. "Understood. Spock out."

The viewscreen went blank. Spock tapped the keys to open a channel to Sickbay.

"Doctor Puri."

"McCoy here. Doctor Puri is dead. I'm the senior medical doctor available." McCoy's familiar raspy voice barked.

"Doctor McCoy. You are the Chief Medical Officer now. Prepare for two more patients, both Vulcan-human hybrids being transported to the Enterprise from Shi'Kahr City in the next fifteen to twenty minutes. One male suffering physical contusions, one female in a healing trance."

"Wait, why do I have to treat them here? Surely there are hospitals with more experienced doctors on Vulcan! I don't know anything about Vulcan-hybrids!"

"Then it is time for you to learn Doctor. Spock out." He stood up. "Mr Kirk, you have the conn."

Jim shook his head. "Oh no you don't! I want to know what the heck just happened! One minute Vulcan was gone and then it suddenly popped back! And why are you bringing civilians on board when we're probably be going into battle?"

Spock looked as though he wanted to sigh. "Mr Sulu, you have the conn once your relief arrives."

"Aye, aye Captain."

"Mr Kirk, walk with me."

Jim warily obeyed, following Spock to the turbo lift and across several decks to the Transportation Room.

~o~

Spock was uncertain of how much to share with the human. He was important but he was young and impetuous. He wished Hari and T'Mia were here. They were better at evaluating and countering human emotionalisms. But they were not so he would have to… make-do as humans say.

"Where are we going?"

"Transportation Room Mr Kirk. To greet our guests."

Kirk eyed him warily. "Aren't you supposed to be talking to Sarek and T'Pau?"

Spock was silent for a while before he answered. "This is more important."

Kirk frowned. "T'Pau is the head of the Vulcan High Council. Surely it is more logical to give her a report first."

"T'Pau will understand. She is my clan matriarch."

Kirk blinked rapidly and followed in silence.

"Captain Spock."

"Mr Kyle. Any word from the surface?"

"I have an open channel with the Vulcan Planetary Transportation Authority. They have a lot of storage crates that are marked fragile and volatile that need to come on board."

"Just a precaution Mr Kyle. Use the cargo transporters to store them in Shuttle Bay Three for now. Start beaming up any personnel who are ready." He glanced at the ensign assisting the Transporter Chief. "Ensign Cheong will be assigned as their primary guide. Contact the Quartermaster to prepare the VIP suites on Deck 3 for the Acolytes and their guards. Mark two units on Deck 5 as reserved for S'haile Hari and T'sai T'Mia until further notice. They will be spending a few days in sick bay first."

Chief Kyle nodded and tapped at the panel before him.

"The first group is ready to beam up."

"Energize."

Spock was very aware his human XO was goggling at the sight before him. Two Vulcan females in their teens, still not fully matured dressed in the plain thin white shifts of new Initiates. Two older females wearing the pale blue and silver sash of a more experienced reldai. One was in her second century with grey streaked hair, but the other was just a few years older and very attractive with pale grey eyes and sleek black hair twisted into braids and pinned securely. A fragile looking elder wearing the white robes of an Adept from Gol. Two other males, much older than the females but more athletic and fit than the Adept; presumably guardians and advisors, dressed in plain dark grey tunics and pants. They bore no conventional or visible weapons but Spock knew they would be formidable fighters. The reldai of Seleya were rarely allowed to leave Vulcan, and never unprotected or casually.

"Spahk." The priestess closer to his age stepped off the platform, her hand shaped into the ta'al. "I greet thee."

"And I thee T'Prala." He turned to the third male on the platform dressed in heavy brown robes embroidered with yellow silk thread. "Ambassador." He hesitated for a brief moment. "Sa-mekh. I greet thee."

"And I thee." The grave looking Vulcan responded. "T'Pau has appointed me as her agent, her eyes ears and voice."

Spock nodded. "Understood." He turned to the rest of the group watching silently. "Ensign Cheong has been assigned as your guide and aide. If you have a specific need inform her and she will see to it. Go and rest now, eat and meditate. There will be little time for it once the Enterprise intercepts with the Narada."

T'Prala nodded. "We will Spahk. We will be available for a planning session if needed."

Spock nodded and watched Ensign Julie Cheong shepherd her new charges out of the Transporter Room One. With the extra audience gone Spock turned to his father.

"T'Mia?"

"Her condition is stable." Sarek reassured his son. "T'Lara has prepared a PADD and kit with medical data, instructions and treatment if needed."

Spock nodded sharply and turned to the door. Doctor McCoy had arrived with Nurse Chapel, two orderlies and a gurney.

"Sir, the second group is ready."

"Beam them up." Spock ordered turning to the transporter pad.

This time there were three and a small pile of trunks and storage cases. A weary, bruised, dishevelled looking Vulcan with messy black hair, bright green eyes dressed in a one-piece dark blue jumpsuit under an open, sleeveless burgundy robe. An unconscious female in a long white shift and laid stretched out on a long white stretcher. She had curly brown hair twisted in an unravelling braid lying on top of her torso. There were small sensor nodes attached to her temples and forehead, but other than that she looked as though she were just sleeping. An older female with black hair pinned up in a neat coif dressed in white and pale green stood beside the stretcher holding a medical-kit in one hand, a tricorder in the other. Within a split second of materializing she turned to the unconscious woman to scan her.

Spock stepped up onto the platform to greet each in turn.

"Hari. T'Lara." He knelt down beside the sleeping woman though he did not touch her. "When can she be safely awakened?"

"In three hours." T'Lara reported. "She insisted on it."

"What happened?" Spock wanted to know.

"She was the Focus." Hari's voice was strained. "I helped channel but she was guiding and shaping the power. It was too much… it sparked and set her clothes on fire. The fire suppression systems overloaded. She had to channel some of the power through herself to Heal before casting the Fidelius. I thought she would burn out but she didn't."

"She is stable." T'Lara added firmly. "She was conscious right until the end, to give instructions on what was to be done. Her body is recovering swiftly thanks to the treatment protocols T'Lun developed. Her mind however still needs to rest and recover. When she wakes she will be tired but completely healed."

Spock nodded jerkily and stood up.

"Doctor McCoy, this is Healer T'Lara. She is T'Mia's attending doctor."

McCoy nodded and turned to his staff, to give low voiced instructions.

Spock watched the orderlies transfer the stretcher to the gurney and had to resist the urge to push them aside when they touched her bare skin.

Fortunately T'Lara produced a blanket and tossed it over her patient.

"I will join Doctor McCoy in your Sick Bay. You may join us after Kevet-dutar and S'haile Hari have replenished themselves." She ordered firmly.

Knowing it would be best to obey the Healer Spock did not make a fuss. He turned to Kirk and gave instructions to move the trunks to his private rooms. And then he led Hari and his father to Deck 5 where they could clean up and eat.

He could see Kirk had questions but the human restrained himself to follow orders. He hoped Kirk's obedience would last a little longer.

~o~

Jim frowned. He'd ordered a Security Officer move the trunks to Spock's quarters. Kirk had taken over the unused Science Officer's quarters. He wondered what was so important about the trunks. Spock was storing it in his room even though it did not belong to him. Wouldn't it make more sense to keep it in the VIP suite the younger Vulcan, Hari, was sharing with the Ambassador?

He glanced at his wrist comm. and carefully balanced the tray he was carrying on one forearm before tapping on the panel beside the door. Spock had asked him to report back in fifteen minutes. He hoped Hari and Ambassador Sarek were okay with the vegetarian snack tray of dips, spreads, crunch raw vegetables and dry breads the on-duty chef had whipped up.

"Enter."

Spock was already here.

The door slid open. Jim entered the VIP suite and put the tray on the coffee table before looking around. The room was bland and elegantly furnished. It did not suit the Vulcans who were standing behind the overstuffed chairs instead of sitting.

He watched as the two guests efficiently prepared a small plate with their personal preferences. Hari was more liberal with the dips and spreads. He ate neatly but efficiently. Jim recognized the style of eating. He himself ate that way. It was a habit learnt in the aftermath of starvation on Tarsus: how to eat quickly without throwing up. Where had Hari learned to eat like that?

Spock and the Ambassador were eating more leisurely. Jim watched in silence until Hari slowed and put his plate down.

"If you want to know the details of what happened you should wait for T'Mia to wake up." He announced.

Spock frowned faintly. He did not like that. Jim didn't either.

"It is illogical-."

"For me to share information I am uncertain of." Hari interrupted. "T'Mia was the one who designed the system. You know she and T'Lun practically created the necessary maths when conventional methods failed. I only understand in the most general and broadest sense. My strengths are never in theory, but the application."

Spock nodded slightly. "What can you tell us?"

"Don't expect us to cast the Fidelius on a planet again. It killed sixty-six point eight three percent of the Secret Keepers. The most we can manage will be this ship if we are really lucky and both of us recover quickly enough to set up and charge the matrix."

"What were T'Mia's instructions?" Spock wanted to know.

Hari shrugged. "Head for Earth. Plan to intercept the Narada."

Spock nodded slowly. "Very well. Hari, Sa-mekh, rest. I must return to my duties. If you need anything use the intercom to contact Ensign Cheong."

Spock inclined his head and retreated. Jim followed close on his heels.

Jim frowned. "Shouldn't we be going to the Bridge?"

They were heading for Sick Bay.

"Unnecessary. lt Sulu has the conn and instructions to plot a course to Earth."

Jim blinked. "You knew what Hari was going to say."

Spock was quiet. "I suspected." He admitted.

Jim glanced at his Acting Captain through the corner of his eye. "What are you planning on doing once we catch up to the Narada?" He asked softly.

"I have some ideas." Spock temporized. "I need some information from T'Mia before any plans can be finalized."

Jim frowned. "I don't get it. You seem to have a lot of trust in this T'Mia. Who is she?"

They were at Sick Bay now. Spock nodded at the staff, unerringly heading to one of the private rooms on the right. The small room had one occupant lying on the biobed and a chair up against the wall next to it.

Spock leaned over the sleeping woman though he did not touch her. Vulcans did not touch, especially in public in front of others. His face was stony but Jim sensed T'Mia was someone very very important to Spock.

"Who is she?"

After a long time Spock answered. And the answer shocked Jim.

"She is my bond-mate… My fiancée."

Jim wasn't sure how he managed to get out of the private room without keeling over but he did. A tumbler of heavy crystal filled with strong spirits was thrust under his nose.

Blindly he accepted it and took a heavy swig from it. His eyes watered. He rubbed them away before looking up at Bones.

"You look like you just got knocked down a hill and rolled into a mudhole."

"Spock's fiancée." Was all he could get out.

Bones absorbed the information and nodded. "Yeah. T'Lara said something like that. But it's a little more serious than an engagement. They're married by Vulcan standards."

Jim waved his hands wildly. "Spock's married! There's nothing about him being married in his files! Why is she on Vulcan if they're married? I mean I saw them on campus once but I never even guessed they were serious about each other."

Bones snorted. "You never will with Vulcans Jimmy." Jim sputtered. Bones sighed. "Just go and get some rest boy. We're all going to need it."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

Review, Review, Review

Soul Bound 06/? (Hermione/Spock - R)

2011-06-11T20:18:45Z

Title: Soul Bound - 06
Categories: Harry Potter, Star Trek AOS/Reboot/IX/2009
Type: gen, het, romance, drama, scifi, supernatural
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/nu!Spock
For: crossbigbang
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood and co, JK Rowling does. I don’t know Trekverse and associated characters, Paramount and various other holding companies do.
Author Notes: See the Master Post for full notes.
AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; ignore the epilogue. AU to Star Trek Reboot the movie. The Narada destroys the Kelvin but the events in the movie have changed because Spock’s motivation, character, and history have changed since he met a particular little girl. Butterfly Effect.
Acknowledgments: Janni, for the art created and my beta Kit.
Last Edited: June 11, 2011, Please note this may be revised & updated.

Summary: Nyota Uhura doesn't understand why the Vulcan professor isn't interested in her. Jim Kirk meets a Vulcan he thinks he can relate to. Hermione informs Spock of their progress.

AN: AU core events of ST Reboot, the Academy Arc.

~ooO 06 Prelude to Action Ooo~

Nyota Uhura sighed as she made her way across campus to her favourite class: Advanced Romulan Formal Syntax. It was a new language that was different enough to be a real challenge. And it was being taught by one of the few instructors who saw her as an intelligent capable woman, not just another pretty bimbo. It was such a pity Professor Spock actually obeyed the rules about no sexual relationships with students.

If he ever gave her even the slightest hint of interest Uhura would have immediately change sections to not have him as her on-record instructor.

"Nyota, I don't understand you," the green-skinned Orion cadet with bright red curls complained as she matched her stride to her darker-skinned friend. "Vulcans are Cold. They are only passionate about intellectual things, not people. You might deny it but you are too passionate to have a long-term relationship with a Vulcan."

Nyota's expression firmed and her chin lifted. "That is why Spock is perfect for me, Gaila. He's half-human with a human mother. He would be familiar with human women. I just have to make him see I can be the perfect woman for him. We do share intellectual interests and hobbies. He is interested in the latest research advancements on the Universal Translator and music."

Gaila Tinnamon was sceptical. "I don't know Nyota, that seems pretty lame. Why would he be interested in You?"

Nyota grinned smugly. "Because I'm not making an obvious display of chasing him."

"Is that why you've been cutting down on your clubbing time?"

"Spock does not gossip but I don't want anything potentially negative getting back to him."

"This is silly! You're changing yourself for a Male. Something you said you'd never do!"

"He's worth it."

"He's Vulcan. He might be half-human but he has chosen to follow Vulcan traditions, not human norms. You don't know what he really wants."

"Amanda Grayson caught his father's interest. If she could attract Ambassador Sarek, I should have no problem getting Commander Spock's interest."

"Amanda Grayson has lived for years on Vulcan. She had to change her mannerisms, learn the traditions as well as the language to fit in. Vulcans might be logical in academia and their professional lives but in private it is a whole other story. I've heard the males dominate the females in private and some even claim Vulcan females as chattel!"

Nyota waved her Orion friend's concerns off. "Don't be silly. Those are just rumours. If there is any truth to it, a human woman as intelligent and capable as Ms Grayson would never have stayed married to a Vulcan. She might be restrained in public but I find it impossible to believe she would remain so controlled in private."

Gaila shrugged. She at least tried to change Nyota's mind.

They parted ways, Gaila to the Cochran Theoretical Physics Building and Nyota to the Sato Linguistics Wing.

Nyota checked her appearance in a reflective window before proceeding to her classroom. She hoped she had a few minutes after class to talk to her instructor about her application to be his TA. It was a bit risky but Nyota wanted the opportunity to get to know him better; to demonstrate her capabilities and interest in him.

~o~

Spock did not sigh as he observed his best linguistics student enter the small auditorium designed to seat fifty. Currently it had thirty four occupants, including himself.

He ignored Nyota Uhura's subtle attempts to get his attention while he waited for the last stragglers to arrive. He wished she would stop her flirations. If he did not have a bondmate in T'Mia, he might have been interested in forming a relationship with an attractive and intelligent female. But he did and he was not interested in another who would not be even half as suitable as T'Mia. If he were human, he would have announced his current marital state, but he was Vulcan and unwilling to sacrifice his privacy to spare the emotional sensibilities of a student chasing her own instructor.

His internal time sense indicated it was precisely eight hundred hours. He automatically moved to the center of the dais and began today's lecture on the variations in phrasing for present, present past, past, and distant past in Formal High Romulan. As always, he had reviewed and prepared his lecture notes ahead of time as always so there was no difficulty in starting the class with only part of his focus on his current surroundings. His students knew to listen and hold questions off until he reached the end of each block of lesson.

It was a useful technique for teaching species with shorter attention spans than Vulcans. T'Mia and Hari had helped him refine his teaching style. T'Mia went through each set of lecture notes he created and edited the material for a non-Vulcan student. Hari had suggested using different techniques to create interest and focus in more easily distracted students; including a free-flow interactive practical component in each class, not just during lab sessions. Spock now reserved fifteen minutes at the end of each class for a word association game in the language being studied. It improved and shared vocabulary, syntax, cultural connotations, and comprehension.

Once he had gone through the bulk of the material to be covered, Spock started the free-for-all word association and watched and listened, occasionally providing more depth and clarification. Usually he would end the practice session five minutes before the end of class, for an open Q&A session but today he was too tense to ignore unwanted emotional displays. He ignored Uhura's unhappy expression as she waited until the last possible minute before leaving. She had a class across campus right after this one.

Once she left, he relaxed internally and began answering questions from his slower but still hard working and capable students. Before T'Mia, he would have left as soon as class ended and requested any questions sent to his mail account or limited to his posted office hours. Now it was his policy to hold 'office hours' half hour right after his lectures, in the same room or the closest available classroom. Students hesitated to approach him on his own ground, in his office, but they were more willing to approach him right after a class.

He answered questions easily until he felt her. She was near, on campus. His internal time sense informed him she was early for their pre-arranged meeting. He stood up and began packing his PADDs and data chips into his messenger bag.

"Today's session is at an end. Send any questions you may have to my mail account or hold them for our next class. I will be sending a message in the next few hours regarding classes for the rest of this week. They may be cancelled on short notice, so check your mail accounts frequently."

~o~

Nyota was sulking. Another crash and burn! What was Spock made of? Stone? Why didn't he show even the slightest hint of interest? Uhura knew she was attractive and desirable so why was Spock always avoiding her? She knew he socialized. Mainly with other officers and Academy instructors though. Maybe that was it! She just had to focus on getting through the Academy. Once she graduated there would be no real barrier to their relationship. Well, there was rank, but who cared!

"Uhura!"

Nyota ignored the blonde cadet calling out her name. He did not take the hint and was soon jogging along side her.

"When are you going to give me a name, Cadet Uhura?" He asked in cheerful teasing tones though his jewel bright blue eyes were unexpectedly serious.

"Never. I'm not interested in dating you, farm-boy."

He clutched at his chest. "You wound me!"

Nyota stopped and glared at Jim Kirk. He was everything she despised in a male. If she ever agreed to date him he would drop her like a used napkin within a week. Men like Kirk had no staying power, no desire to commit.

"Beat it, Kirk. Go chase some civilian bimbo. I'm not interested in being another notch in your belt. In anyone's belt."

She spun around so fast her pony tail smacked him in the face before marching away.

~o~

Jim Kirk watched Uhura storm away for a few minutes before making his way to the Alpha Quad. He already knew her name. Nyota. Nyota Uhura. Star of Freedom. He just wanted her to tell him, to give him permission to get to know her better. Jim didn't know why he bothered. She was just as bad as all the rest who only saw George Kirk's son. Jim had very few friends who saw and accepted him as he was. Uhura was bright and smart; he had hoped she would turn out to be one of the few who'd see past the illusions and bravado and get to know the real Jim Kirk. Too bad she was as blind as all the other sheep.

"Oh man. Did you see that?"

"That is one Fine piece of machinery."

Jim blinked and found he had to agree. The hoverbike was a custom built number; sleek, solid, and powerful. He pushed his way through the throng to see it land in a space usually reserved for visiting VIPs. A security guard pushed his way to approach the bike and rider who had yet to dismount.

"I'm afraid you have to move. Parking is restricted to VIPs or those with special permits."

The rider dismounted smoothly. The forest green riding-fleathers (faux leather) pulled taunt against the curves of her hips, thighs and butt. The legs were tucked into old-fashioned knee-high lace-up black boots. The matching forest-green double-zipped fleather jacket settled down to her hips. Black gloved hands reached up to undo the zips to reach into an inner pocket to produce a small ID chit.

The security guard scanned it and raised both eyebrows. "Sorry about that Miss Neejeev Soorwin." He stumbled over the pronunciation.

The gloved hands reached up to undo the helmet straps and tug the protective device off her head and settle it on her bike.

Her face was pretty, not drop-dead gorgeous with light brown -almost gold- eyes and darker brown hair in braids wrapped around her head.

"It is all right, Ensign. You can call me T'Mia." Her voice was clear and carrying with a polished British accent.

Jim watched as she tugged off her driving gloves and stored them in her jacket pocket before reaching up to tuck some loose strands of hair back. He froze when he caught sight of her ears. Delicately formed with pointed tips. Slanted eyebrows. Vulcan.

Jim had never seen a female Vulcan in anything but bulky robes and layers. He never realized there were Vulcans cool enough to wear fleather, Vulcans who owned and used custom-built bikes. She was really different from the run-of-the mill Vulcans on Earth. He wondered what she was doing on campus with a VIP pass.

The Ensign nodded. "Do you need a guide Miss T'Mia?"

"Unnecessary. My associate knows I have arrived. He will be joining me presently."

The Ensign accepted her refusal and began dispersing the crowd. "All right folks, I know you have classes, labs, and study sessions to go to so get going! Gawking is not going to help you finish your assignments or pass your next test!"

Kirk waited for the Ensign to return to his regular patrol route before approaching the Vulcan female.

"Hi there. Nice bike."

She turned in his direction and blinked slowly. Her eyes were a shade of rich dark bees honey. "Your appreciation is noted." Her head tilted to one side. "You are James Tiberius Kirk. Son of George Samuel Kirk, Captain of the Kelvin."

Jim's expression fell slightly before he rallied. "Yeah." And he waited for it. She said nothing. "You don't have anything else to say?"

She raised one brow. "What am I supposed to say? I do not know of you or your accomplishments. Should I praise you for something your father did?"

Jim rocked back on his metamorphical heels. Maybe he was trying to make friends in the wrong species. Vulcans were way too logical to get into the George Kirk hero-worship hype. But then again they were also too logical to make friends and hang out, or feel emotions.

He did not know what to say. Before he could figure out something her expression changed; her eyes lit up in pleasure though her facial muscles did not shift at all. She turned to the secondary entry point into the Sato Linguistics Wing.

He turned to see what she was seeing. A tall, slimly built male in instructor blacks moving gracefully around the cadets loitering on the steps before making his way down the shallow wide treads. His black hair lay flat and was cut in an uncool bowl-style that accented the pointed ears and slanted eyebrows. He was Vulcan. There was only one Vulcan in Starfleet; too militaristic for Vulcan pacifists. What was his name again?

"Spock." The interesting Vulcan babe knew him. "I greet thee." She raised one hand, fingers shaped into the ta'al Vulcans used instead of a handshake.

"And I greet thee. Did you encounter any difficulty?" The Commander asked evenly.

"None. The permits Sarek arranged for are suitably all-encompassing." She removed a passenger helmet and a black fleather jacket from the bike's storage compartment and handed each one in turn to the Vulcan Commander. Then she slipped her own helmet on, the visor up, and began strapping the buckles tight.

The Vulcan Commander donned the helmet and slipped the jacket on before tightening the straps on the helmet and sealing the jacket up. His jacket was cut differently; it was longer hitting mid-thigh with a collar that stood up and had two layers to protect against strong winds.

Jim watched as the female straddled the hoverbike first, and the other male settle behind her gripping on one handgrip only. He watched as she donned one glove and brushed her bare fingers over the Commander's hand on her belly, his arm wrapped around her waist. Their fingers entwined and meshed before separating and she donned the glove. He watched as she revved up the engine and pulled up and away in scant seconds.

The manoeuvre would look insane to most, but to Jim who was an avid biker himself saw the action as a demonstration of competence, skill and trust. The shifting gees of an additional passenger could have easily caused the bike to somersault. They clearly had performed similar manoeuvres before; there was no friction or hesitation in how their bodies shifted to compensate for each other. They trusted each other.

Jim wished he could find someone who'd trust him like that, someone who He could trust. As he watched the bike vanish in the distance, he wondered if they were more than just friends. Did Vulcans have casual lovers or one-night stands?

~o~

"That was James Tiberius Kirk."

Hermione had no difficulty hearing Spock through the earpieces and mics built into the helmets.

"Yes." She agreed. She was more interested in getting to the embassy than talking about James Kirk.

"You did not wish to initiate a 'rapport' with him."

"I did not." She agreed blandly. "Besides it is not my responsibility. You are the one who will primarily be working with him in the future."

Spock hesitated. "He is important but right now he is a cadet and not one of my students. If someone asks, I have no logical explanation for interacting with him."

"Then I suggest keeping an eye on him. When it is time make sure he is on the Enterprise with you and Captain Pike."

They were at the Vulcan Embassy now. Hermione allowed Sapern, the newest intern, to park her bike while she and Spock made their way to the small lab in the basement.

It was natural to not smile now but she could not stop the fierce joy and eager thrill from spilling through her bond with Spock.

"You have succeeded." It was a statement of fact. Few things other than success could generate such a strong emotional reaction in her.

"Would you care to speculate on what?" She inquired archly.

He watched as she removed a titanium carrying case from the walk-in safe and brought it over to the table where he was seated. He watched as she opened the case to reveal slim vanadium pins with crystal heads the size of a three millimetre bead.

"You know I do not speculate without at least some facts."

"These are the latest generation of the magical batteries our Consortium has produced. Each pin has the potential to power a Level three spell for five hours before being expended.

Spock frowned. Level three spells were fairly basic spells that were taught in Hermione's fifth year of magical training. This was not all so he waited for her to continue.

"We have determined the math to interconnect each battery so it can act as a generator."

"You mentioned it before. You succeeded in powering a conventional rural town with a population of less than ten-thousand for a month."

"We have succeeded in designing a matrix that can power a Level nine spell. Fidelius."

Spock's eyes widened in shock and comprehension. "Show me."

She stood up and withdrew a clear crystal cube covered with tiny pinholes. Swiftly she began setting the pins in the holes in some pattern Spock did not recognize. "I will cast the Fidelius, you will be the Secret Keeper. Once I have Hidden this lab you can bring in the Security Team to try and break the protection."

Spock watched as she produced her Lebanese cedar with braided thestral hair wand to cast the spell. He frowned as his perceptions altered slightly and her voice whispered in his mind. T'Mia's primary lab is located behind the third door on the right after exiting the turbolift on L2 of the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco, North America, Terra, Sol System.

She stood up and began walking. "Follow me." Spock frowned and obeyed.

They exited the lab and watched the door slide closed behind them.

Hermione smirked. "Send for the Security team. Let them try to find the room. Ask them to record the methods they used and make a report for you."

Spock raised a slanted brow. "And what are we to do in the intervening time?"

"Amanda tells me there is a restaurant a few blocks away that does fusion cuisine using Japanese and Vulcan traditions. I took the liberty of making reservations for us."

Spock was amused though he did not reveal it. She sensed it through their bond. So she smirked as she listened to him contact the Embassy Security through the internal intercom and give them instructions.

"T'Mia's personal lab has been hidden using experimental means. Please use whatever resources you feel necessary to locate and enter the lab. Make a record of your actions and prepare a report. We will be leaving the embassy for the mid-day meal and returning in two point five six hours."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Commander Tokhan of the VSF frowned as he scanned the latest reports created by his staff. When Sarek's son gave his subordinate the instructions he had believed it to be a child's game until Rehana came back with a tricorder and PADD of her preliminary report. The lab was no longer there. The door was missing. The volume of basement floor space containing the room was missing.

"It is like a subspace bubble," Rehana was fascinated and challenged. "The room is Not There. This is not cloaking technology where it is still possible to bump into the cloaked structure. Reality has somehow compensated for the rooms absence. The physics and mechanism to create this effect is unprecedented."

Tokhan frowned. "Could this effect be scaled up? To hide a ship or a space station?"

Rehana blinked rapidly. "It is possible but I cannot be certain."

"It can." Both Vulcans turned to the doorway. Sarek's son had returned with T'Mia.

Tokhan wondered just who she was. There was no record of her before her adoption by T'Pol and her association with T'Pau. Genetically she was more Vulcan than Spock but she was more open and willing to associate freely. Tokhan wondered on her biological parents and the lab that engineered her genetic template. It was highly doubtful they had permission from the High Council. Spock's conception and birth had been highly controversial and frowned-upon.

"Please bring wood pulp paper and an ink pen Commander."

Curious Tokhan followed the instructions before he and Rehana followed the pair into the basement.

Spock took the sheet and pen and wrote something on it before folding and handing it to the older Vulcan male.

Tokhan took the folded sheet and flattened it out to read the contents written in precise Standard script.

T'Mia's primary lab is located behind the third door on the right after exiting the turbolift on L2 of the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco.

Grey eyes went very wide as the universe twisted before his eyes and resolved into a closed doorway.

"How?" He wanted to know.

"Classified." Spock's response was short. "Please keep the sheet of paper safe or destroy it. Anyone who reads it will be able to enter the room. We estimate the power sources fueling the protection will be expended in thirty one hours. Please station a guard as that time approaches. Once the protection falls he or she must enter the room and retrieve the crystal cube on the work table. The device should be sent to Vrehn at the VSA using the same protections as highly sensitive diplomatic data. More so due to the classified nature of this project."

"Why do you not dismantle it and take it with you right now?" Rehana wanted to know.

"Setting up the field is easy." T'Mia explained. "Taking it down will set off power surges and other effects we are not prepared to answer. But if the power source dies out the field will collapse without anyone noticing unless they are deliberately looking in the direction of the door at the moment of collapse."

Tokhan nodded, understanding her reasoning. "Rehana will keep watch and make the trip on the next diplomatic shuttle to Vulcan."

T'Mia nodded. "If you have any concerns you may contact me through Spock on Earth or my clan matriarch, T'Pol on Vulcan."

Tokhan watched the pair retreat to the upper levels of the Embassy.

"They are bonded." Rehana said suddenly.

Tokhan blinked. "There is no record in either of their files."

Rehana waved her hand, a gesture she had adopted from humans.

"They are bonded. Their families must be keeping it quiet for some reason."

"Most likely."

~o~

Hermione restrained herself until they were in the private suite reserved for Sarek and his clan when they travelled to Earth. The moment the door closed and Spock activated the privacy locks she pounced on him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and one arm around his neck, resting her forehead on his.

"I want you." She confessed as she brushed her fingers over his lips and cheek. "It has been so long."

"Seven months, four days, one hour, twenty -."

And he was cut off as she kissed him hard.

Both were panting when they broken apart.

"Meld with me." It was an order.

He raised one brow as he moved to sit down on an armless chair, her straddling his lap, legs swinging free on either side of the chair. "As you wish."

He lifted one hand to settle against her psi points, an action she mimed on him.

"My mind to your mind." He began.

"Your thoughts to my thoughts." She concluded.

And they fell into each others minds. It was a welcome respite from the months they had been apart. They had stayed in touch through comm. messages and dream walking but both methods were not as fulfilling as skin-on-skin contact and a full mind meld.

"I wish I could stay longer." The regret was not audible in her voice but felt in their bond.

"What we discussed before still holds true."

"I know Spock. I just wish I could spend more time with you in private. I believe I am quite addicted to you."

Spock sighed softly. "I miss you as well. It is difficult being alone when I know what I am lacking by being away from you."

They did not move content to be just close to each other. It was time before she spoke.

"As I informed the Commander, the Fidelius works on large scale as well. We successfully hid a research outpost of five-hundred, a TKhut-class warship, and an entire Minshara class moon with a colony of fifteen-thousand."

"And the power requirements?" Spock wanted to know.

"We are using Vulcan's natural leylines to charge the crystals. T'Pau introduced me to T'Rei, the Head Priestess of Seleya, two weeks after you left. The Temple at Seleya has an archive of material from pre-Surakian times. At one point in Vulcan's history there were mages, multi-talented and very powerful psis. Unfortunately such talents have a strong emotional component so there are no more mages. Few traits still pass through certain family lines; like prophecy or healing. Most of the priestesses have such talents but nothing like a full-blown mage."

Spock stilled. "They are fairy tales. Myths."

"And myths have a core of truth," Hermione murmured softly as she rested on top of him. "Only those in the upper ranks know about me and the others. T'Rei was not happy when she found out we are bonded. I think T'Pau delayed my introduction until after we bonded for that reason. If you didn't persuade me I probably would have joined the Sisterhood as a priestess," she felt him still and stroked his chest in reassurance. "But now I am not interested. Not when I have you." He relaxed.

"What else have you discovered?"

"Vulcan's leylines are deep but strong. Teams of scientists and priestesses are remapping the leylines using special tricorders. We have permission from the spiritual and secular ranks to build special stations at the nodes, where two or more leylines cross. Each station will focus on producing and charging the crystals that are to be arranged into matrices. The stations can be networked to power a Level 9 spell on a planet-wide scale."

"And the spell?"

"Fidelius. We are going to hide the entire planet when the Narada comes hunting."

Spock frowned. "Is that possible? The number of people, the volume involved… the power requirements will be immense."

"I know. And it isn't something that can easily be tested in a trial run. T'Pau agreed with Hari's suggestion to take some extra precautions. Each Vulcan embassy on the larger Federation homeworlds is going to be expanded with more staff and their extended families. Each colony and research outpost population is going to double and in some cases quadruple with new staff and families. The High Council has agreed to bring up the timeline to colonize Suzaku IV. If all goes well an additional one point five million Vulcans will be on Suzaku IV when the Narada arrives."

"But not you."

"Not me." Hermione agreed serenely. "I have to remain on Vulcan. I have spoken with Sarek and Amanda. He refuses to leave but we have managed to convince Amanda into joining the colonists on Suzaku IV as an administrator."

He exhaled sharply. "That is… a relief," he confessed.

She levered herself up and patted his cheek. "I know."

"Is there anything else?"

"Nothing that can't wait until later." Hermione smiled with her eyes before she kissed him thoroughly a second time.

It was not a Vulcan kiss but Spock did not feel any desire to complain.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Uhura grumbled as she stalked towards her dorm-room. Her shift translating Klingon transmissions had been boring and predictable with one exception.

Gaila was sprawled on top of her bed.

"Hi there. You don't look too happy. Did something happen?"

"It's more like what didn't happen," Uhura confessed as she began stripping off her uniform. "I translated a transmission about Rura Penthe being destroyed by Romulans but the shift supervisor didn't take it seriously! I tried stopping by Spock's office to get a second opinion and his signature on my translation and I found out he's cancelled all his classes this week! And no one knows where he is!"

Gaila shrugged uneasily. "Maybe he's on a date."

Uhura scoffed. "Don't be silly. He wouldn't have cancelled all his classes for a date. Besides, I would have heard if he was dating."

Gaila sat up and crossed her legs. "Not if no one told you." She informed Uhura seriously. "Everyone knows of your thing for Professor Spock."

Uhura huffed. "I don't believe you Gaila."

"Well you should. I heard he had a visitor two days ago, a female Vulcan."

Uhura stilled. "Gaila, are you trying to distract me?"

The Orion went very still. "Distract you? What do you mean?" Her voice was rather high-pitched. Lying was not one of her strong points.

"All right! Who is it? Where is he hiding?"

The next few minutes where a confusing mess as Kirk rolled out from under Gaila's bed and Uhura started chasing him around the room screaming in various dialects. In between dodging her punches Kirk managed to put on his uniform pants, and grab his boots and jacket before reaching the door.

Just before leaving he turned around and smirked.

"You know Uhura, Gaila was right about Spock having a girlfriend. I saw her myself. She rides a hoverbike and wore fleaters when she picked him up. She is quite nice. If you're interested, her name is T'Mia and I think he is really serious about her. He touched her bare fingers in public."

And then he vanished leaving a shell shocked Uhura standing in her white Starfleet issue underwear.

"Nyota?" Gaila came over and shook her friend slightly. "Are you all right?"

Uhura blinked and came to. "Tell me he was lying." She begged.

"I don't know." Gaila admitted. "It kind of fits what I've heard. A female Vulcan wearing fleathers and riding a hoverbike picked up Professor Spock outside the Sato Linguistics Wing."

Uhura shook her head. "Spock does not have a girlfriend. Kirk is just trying to rile me up with his innuendo. He is a brainless idiot who doesn't know when to quit." She huffed. "Do you know he's taking the Kobayashi Maru test a third time tomorrow?"

Gaila hesitated. "He mentioned something about that. Third time charm and all that."

Uhura snorted. "He's an idiot. He'll fail it just like he failed the last two times."

"Why do you care?" Gaila wanted to know.

"I don't." Uhura shrugged. "I'm sitting as his Comm Officer for the simulation. Just for the practice and to gloat when he fails." She added hastily.

Unfortunately for Uhura she didn't get to gloat and watch Jim Kirk fail because he passed the Kobayashi Maru simulation the next day.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

Review, Review, Review

Soul Bound 05/? (Hermione/Spock - R)

2011-06-11T20:18:00Z

Title: Soul Bound - 05
Categories: Harry Potter, Star Trek AOS/Reboot/IX/2009
Type: gen, het, romance, drama, scifi, supernatural
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/nu!Spock
For: crossbigbang
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood and co, JK Rowling does. I don’t know Trekverse and associated characters, Paramount and various other holding companies do.
Author Notes: See the Master Post for full notes.
AU after B7 Deathly Hallows; ignore the epilogue. AU to Star Trek Reboot the movie. The Narada destroys the Kelvin but the events in the movie have changed because Spock’s motivation, character, and history have changed since he met a particular little girl. Butterfly Effect.
Acknowledgments: Janni, for the art created and my beta Kit.
Last Edited: June 11, 2011, Please note this may be revised & updated.

Summary: A courtship, a confession, a bonding, a betrothal.

AN: Pre the core events of ST Reboot (Academy, Battle of Vulcan, Narada). Will be AU from here on out.

~ooO 05 Making Choices, Reaching Out Ooo~

Spock watched from his seat on Amanda's planter-bench. Several dozen feet away Hermione, no, N'jvn S'rvyn T'Mia, daughter of T'Pol, lay stomach down atop a cushioned camping pad. Her feet were crossed at the ankles, torso propped up on her elbows as she reviewed the contents of her PADD. Her curly dark brown hair was twisted into a coronet of braids that revealed the slant of her eyebrows and the pointed tips of her ears. Her skin was very fair, but tinted green. Darker green veins showed under the still tender new skin.

Of all three mages, T'Mia had undergone the most dramatic changes. She had the power, knowledge, and will to guide the energies of the blood adoption ritual into fulfilling specific changes easily verified by a competent Healer and medical tricorder. Her biochemistry had been altered on the molecular level and almost simultaneously her cellular DNA rearranged using source material from the adopter to fill in the gaps to create a new genetic profile, with 88% Vulcan DNA, something the best Vulcan geneticists had failed to accomplish. The entire process had taken eight days to complete, of which five point two seven days had been spent in a medical coma.

Her organ structure had shifted very slightly with her primary systems remaining in the same place as a human, though some extra structures like neutral nodes formed throughout the body, especially the hands. Her new cellular structure granted her the more efficient resilient physiology of a Vulcan-human hybrid. Some of the changes were also reflected on the outside in the form of dark slanted brows and pointed ears. The most dramatic changes were in her reproductive organs that regenerated containing gametes cells with 96% Vulcan DNA. Her body was designed to conceive and bear hybrids with a Vulcan or human or even another hybrid as the father.

Harry Potter, now named Hari, had been blood adopted by R'tsu Z'rel T'Quil and Luna, now called T'Lun, by X'mhn J'vkr T'Kai. The changes in both of them were not as dramatic as T'Mia. Hari had a 75% Vulcan genetic profile and T'Lun had a 65% Vulcan genetic profile, though the gametes in both of them were 84% Vulcan. Both T'Lun and Hari regained consciousness within twenty hours of the ritual's conclusion. T'Lun theorized Hari lacked the knowledge to guide the energies to result in more detailed changes while T'Lun lacked the power to fuel said changes.

Spock watched T'Mia talk to the green-eyed hybrid sitting next to her, reading from her PADD, teasing her, making her smile slightly though she no longer laughed out loud.

She liked him. T'Mia trusted Him more than she did Spock. The unfamiliar burn of a green-eyed monster surged to life within him. Hari would not win her. Spock had a much older claim on her. He waited until the younger male hybrid moved away, to talk to T'Lun, before approaching her.

T'Mia watched his approach warily though she did not react until after Spock broke decorum by reaching out to touch her -an unrelated female- in front of others. She broke contact by rolling away from him, and coming up into a sitting position.

"You are mine." Spock did not realise he spoke until after the words were voiced.

She stared at him. Her eyes were a paler shade of brown, bright like liquid Terran honey or clear amber. "I am not. Remember Spock, you denied me when you walked away from me all those years ago. I reached out to you, but you did not reach back once in all these years… even after you went to Starfleet instead of the VSA!"

She moved swiftly, getting to her feet and moving briskly away from him and into the house, refusing to turn and look back. Just as she had back then.

"She does have every reason not to trust you Spock and from what I saw I don't think her views will change very quickly."

Spock turned to stare at his mother. "Then why did she contact me if she is still holding a grudge over a choice made a long time ago?" He wanted to know.

Amanda smiled gently. "She contacted you because she does care about you." She tilted her head to one side. "Remember Spock, making caveman like demands will not help your case. You must be willing to bend and concede in order to win her back. Next time you approach her, try to be more civilized."

Spock winced internally. It wasn't like he had intended to make a verbal claim so bluntly. It would be a while before she would stay and listen to him. It didn't help that she spent so much time at the VSA. Then an idea dawned.

"Mother, who is the most senior VSA scientist on T'Mia's team?"

Amanda thought for a moment. "I believe it is Vrehn of Ma'at S'han Keth."

"Would he be agreeable to another joining the team? I have the time since Starfleet has assigned me to serve the Vulcan High Council for the next four months. T'Pau has informed me I do not have any specific duties in regards to the Council."

Amanda smiled slowly. "I believe Vrehn is amenable to alternate points of view. He is one of the more open minds in the Academy."

~o~

That same evening, S'han Keth Vrehn received a message from S'chn T'gai Spahk seeking permission to join the research team at the VSA. The middle-aged Vulcan did not have to think very long on the request. Spahk cha Sarek might have refused admission to the VSA but he had clearly excelled in the academic institute he had chosen.

And as a half-human working in Starfleet, Spock more than likely had a unique insight and mental flexibility traditional VSA trained Vulcans lacked. He had noticed it in T'Mia and T'Lun, before and after they had undergone the conversion to become hybrids. Even though most of their biochemistry and physiology and nervous system were now Vulcan (or more accurately hybrid), they still had the same almost illogical tendencies to skip steps, to intuit accurate and valid avenues of research.

Vrehn was not above taking every advantage he could get. His sister was a reldai at Seleya and had informed him of her dreams since they first started. The same week he had been introduced to Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood, she had called and asked him to accept the offer and make it his primary project, to not stop, because the dreams were becoming less intense. The dream-vision was changing as events chanted and reshaped the future.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

"What are you afraid of?"

Spock glanced up from his PADD. T'Lun had been silent and focused on her own work for the past two hours since the end of the Evening meal.

"To be afraid is illogical," he deflected.

Now she looked amused. An odd expression on a Vulcan but something Spock was becoming used to. T'Mia, Hari, and T'Lun had been born and raised as Terrans without the mental capabilities or inclinations to follow the Disciplines, the control, logic, and emotional stoicism of born Vulcans. All three had made it very clear while they were willing to maintain a façade in public, they were not interested in maintaining it in private. Emotions served a purpose and as mages they needed the power and will that came with focused passions.

"To never be afraid is illogical." She countered. "Fear serves a purpose, a reminder to be cautious and conservative." She tilted her head to one side. "Something is bothering you."

Spock tapped the PADD closing the file he was viewing. He rested his elbows on the table steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. He maintained the position for several seconds before speaking slowly.

"My assignment has expired. Starfleet is recalling me to Earth."

T'Lun's head straightened. Her eyes were very focused. "What is really bothering you?"

Spock looked away from her before speaking. "We have discussed the matter before. It is logical for me return to Earth, to be ready to act within Starfleet if needed."

"And you have not said what is really bothering you," T'Lun noted. Her grey-blue eyes were very steady. "There is an old Earth adage, to win big you must risk big, the greater the prize the greater the risk. Something disturbs you, surely it is worth whatever risk is involved." He did not answer. "Isn't T'Mia worth it?"

Spock stood up and hurried out of the room without speaking.

T'Lun watched him hurry away with a faint smile.

"That was very mean of you," Hari's voice was clear and disapproving.

T'Lun turned and smiled at the form emerging from a shadowed alcove.

"Really? In what way?" She asked casually.

Hari grumbled but did not argue his point. He never won any arguments against T'Lun; they always ended with him tied in knots. In the end he settled for making his opinion clear. "He doesn't deserve her."

And watched her bright expression turn serious.

"Maybe, but it is not up to us to make that decision. It is her choice, so let them be." She hesitated, clearly conflicted before making a choice. "They need each other to be whole. Don't make her choose. It will destroy her."

Hari knew T'Lun was deadly serious. "Okay. I won't. But I won't make it easy for him." And he knew everything would be fine when T'Lun laughed.

"Oh Hari! Of course you won't! No brother would."

~o~

Spock paused in the open archway. T'Lun's was right, T'Mia was worth any risk, and he did not want to leave her but he had received his orders. Of course, he had options but it would make more sense to hear her input before taking a more drastic step and resigning his commission.

T'Mia looked up from the PADD she was using to make notes and put down her stylus. Her expression was calm and knowing.

"They have recalled you."

Spock moved into the room and sat down across from her. "Yes."

"Expected. You should go back to Earth."

Spock stilled. A small lump of ice formed in his side. He had thought their relationship had improved over the past four point eight three months of working together. Yes, she was genetically more Vulcan than him but she had been raised and lived most of her life as a human. Didn't she… care about him?

His expression must have betrayed him because she rose and came around the low table to sit beside him. Her hand reflexively reached out though she caught herself before she touched him.

"It is not a slight against you," she spoke softly, firmly, before linking her hands together in her lap. "You owe a duty of obligation to Starfleet, for the effort and credits spent in training you. I would join you but it is not wise at this point in time. We still do not have a plan with a greater-than-even chance of success. It is logical for me to stay on Vulcan to continue working on the problem."

Spock considered her words and had to admit they made the most logical use of available resources.

But he did not want to leave her. Last time he parted from her, he had believed he would never see her again. He had felt some regrets but no real doubts. Now he knew if he walked away from her, it would be at great cost. Each day away from her would be marred with uncertainty and very rational fears. Next time he saw her she might already be claimed by another male! There were several new additions to the VSA team in the past few weeks, young unbonded males. They did not share a difficult past with T'Mia as he did. She might consider anyone of them as an acceptable bondmate.

"I do not wish to be parted from you." He confessed.

She stilled. His words were a play on the traditional bonding vows, a veiled reference.

"I am uncertain of your intent." She confessed.

"I have stated my intent T'Mia. I wish to declare koon-ut so'lik. I wish for you to be mine. That has not changed."

Full lips pressed together. "You do not own me." He was silent and did not flinch as she glared at him before looking away. "You walked away from me once before Spock. I do not wish to force anyone to stay with me out of obligation. T'Pol will protect me."

Spock was silent for a brief moment.

"I cannot walk away from you," he admitted. "Not now, not ever." He hesitated before making a quick confession. "My head hurts when we are separated for long. It feels like a string in my soul is being stretched so taunt it vibrates at any reminder of you. And there are many things that remind me of you."

She stared at him with wide bemused eyes. "You sound almost emotional."

Spock refused to respond to the taunt. Instead he continued to stare at her. After some minutes she lowered her eyes and looked away. Clearly she still felt something.

"If you doubt my words I would engage in a full meld with you."

Her eyes flew up as she stared shocked by the offer. Full melds were a deeply intimate affair that shared emotional undercurrents, not just memories and thoughts. Spock was willing to bare his soul if he could get a glimpse of hers, something she had freely shared when they were younger.

After they had arrived on Vulcan, T'Mia closed the doors to their shared astral rooms. She had used their shared dreams to catch up on each other quickly on Earth, but after Sarek and Amanda had arrived she had shut him out their shared space, not always successfully but most of the time. After the blood adoption was carried out her control increased to a degree that made it nearly impossible for Spock to push through and reach her in their shared dreams.

Spock sat still and waited while she debated with herself and came to a decision. One small slim fingered hand came up and brushed over his psi points. The webbing between her fingers stretched to make all the necessary contacts. Spock mirrored her action on her with less strain. Then he chanted the words to focus their shared intent.

"My mind to your mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts."

Without hesitation she took it up, repeating the words.

"My mind to your mind. Your thoughts to my thoughts."

~o~

He was falling. She was falling.

His hair was tightly braided. Her hair was a smooth sleek cap cut short.

He was wandering the corridors of an archaic stone castle, casting spells using a slender rod of wood. She walked up the slopes of the L-langon Mountains behind the Clan Stronghold with her pet sehlat I-Chaya.

He was given tips by the adult mages, for learning spells faster, researching and writing reports linking many magical fields of study to support a single point. She was isolated in a Learning Bowl progressing at rates that shamed her age-mates.

He was hurt by the insults from the purebloods and prettier girls. She was young and furious by the treatment she was receiving from the other boys, the utter revulsion felt from her bond with her betrothed T'Pring.

He was determined to prove to every pure-blooded bigoted bastard that this mudblood was more intelligent, more skilled, more powerful than they. She was determined to prove to the bigots sitting on the VSA Entrance Board, T'Pring, Stonn and every other Vulcan detractor who had scorned her, that non-Vulcan ancestry did not make her Less.

He was determined to do what he wanted after the war, to study and research the more obscure fields of magic. She wanted to study everything she could, not limit herself to two specialities at a time like the VSA demanded.

Travelling with his Unspeakable mentors to learn obscure forms of magic directly from their sources. The first year in space as an Ensign under Captain Pike; knowing this was what she wanted – a position as Science Officer on a deep space exploration vessel.

He met each and every personal milestone and yet he felt so alone and hollow. She was unofficially tapped for the position of CSO and possibly XO under Pike on the Enterprise, and she wondered if there could have been another option than cutting nearly all his ties.

He wished his once best friend would stop and listen to him, would acknowledge his presence, reach out and touch him in their shared dream space. She ignored the persistent ache, the nagging sensation that something was missing, that something could be gained if she was willing to reach out.

They were hurt. They were hurting.

They were hollow. They were missing.

They were aching. They were yearning.

They wanted. They needed.

They were different. They were the same.

They were one.

He did not mean to. She did not mean to.

But he wanted her. And she wanted him.

The words were not voiced but the common intent was felt by both.

Parted from me, and never parted. Never and always, touching and touched.

Slender gold threads reached out from her and tangled with the silver from him. They twisted and blurred until the threads resembled a single cord connecting the two of them.

They were One.

~o~

Dark brown eyes opened and met light brown.

Spock did not want to lift his hand, to break contact with her skin. Fingers shifted so he was cupping her cheek, drawing her close. If he were human, if they were in a room with a locked door, he would have kissed her long and hard.

He lowered his head so his forehead rested on hers, their noses brushing against each other's. She shuddered slightly and exhaled. Her breath was moist and warm. Spock could almost taste the herbs in the blend of Vulcan spice tea she favoured.

And he remembered what he had seen in the last moments of the meld. What he still felt through the fading resonance.

"You are uncertain. You had prepared to give up your world but you are uncertain of the new one you have been given, the obligations inherent in new ties, your responsibilities to Ma'at N'jvn S'rvyn, what would be required by Us."

T'Mia inhaled deeply and exhaled shallowly. "Yes," she admitted.

"It is logical to be uncertain but breaking bonds should be a last resort. You do not have to make a final decision immediately. I will wait until you are ready."

"Your consideration is appreciated."

Spock lifted his forehead and hand from her and forced the distracting emotional thoughts into their correct compartments, to allow him better control.

"I do not have much time left. I have been ordered to return to the Academy on a Starfleet transport that will be departing from Vulcan in five point one three days."

"Then let us make the best use of the time available to us. I will let Vrehn know we will be present for only a few hours over the next five days."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

T'Lun could not resist smiling at Hari's irate expression as the green-eyed male threw himself into an overstuffed chair.

"Did you know?" he demanded.

"Know what?" She asked placidly.

"That Spock and T'Mia are having sex!" His voice was not soft enough given the choked coughs and carefully blank expressions around them.

T'Lun sighed internally as she grabbed Hari's robes and dragged him to Vrehn's office. It was almost certain to be in use but it was the only private sound-proofed place she could think of for the upcoming conversation.

Vrehn did not make a fuss when they barged in. He was such a dear like that.

Then Hari turned on him.

"Did you know Mia and Spock are having sex?"

The older Vulcan male glanced at T'Lun who nodded slightly.

"Not for certain but I expected it," he admitted evenly. "T'Mia was born human and still has human habits and needs. Is it not common behaviour among affianced couples?"

That took Hari back. "Well yes, but she's Mia!" he sputtered.

Vrehn raised a brow. "You do understand sexual intimacy occurs even in Vulcan relationships. Especially at certain times."

Hari flushed green. "You don't have to give me The Talk!" he mumbled. "I've already got the lecture on Pon Farr."

Now it was Vrehn's turn to flush.

Hari regained his equilibrium. "Did Mia tell you?" he asked T'Lun.

Pale blonde hair shimmered as T'Lun shook her head in negative. "No." She smiled impishly. "I caught them together." Seeing two pairs of eyes widen in shock and interest she continued. "They were making out in the VSA change rooms. I thought she was taking too long to change after her work out."

Vrehn blinked. "That seems…"

"Out of character?" T'Lun murmured. "Perhaps. But it makes sense since he will be leaving in a few days. And there isn't much privacy in the Compound. If they ever try to find some private time there everyone will know within the hour."

"But why can't they wait?" Hari wanted to know. "I mean Mia was holding him off all this time. What's changed?"

"They've bonded." T'Lun explained softly. "Mentally and spiritually. They need each other to be whole and they know they are going to be separated for a while so they are creating memories for the time they are apart." Blue-grey eyes met green. "He can't walk away without taking at least part of her with him. They are soul bound, she to him and he to her. The more ties they form the more stable they'll be when parted. Please do not interfere or it will hurt everyone, including you."

Hari nodded sharply. "Okay. I won't make a fuss." He made a face. "Doesn't mean I won't pound him if he makes her cry."

"Of course." Placid eyes turned steely-grey. "You'll have to wait in line behind me for your turn though."

Vrehn decided it would be wise to intervene gently.

"He might hurt her emotionally but he will always act to correct his mistakes. He cannot Not do so when he knows of her state through the bond. In a truly strong bonding, it is almost impossible to hurt your partner because what hurts one hurts both."

Hari made a wry expression. "I know that in my head but in my heart it is more difficult."

"You must learn to accept it Hari. She is His to protect now." T'Lun patted his shoulder. "Besides, there is someone else for you. You will meet her soon enough."

Hari straightened. "And what about you?"

"Do not worry about me Hari. I've already met the one for me." She smiled slyly glancing at Vrehn through the corner of her eye. "In fact you've already met him."

Vrehn wondered who she was referring to. He went over the single males in the faculty and staff known to both T'Lun and Hari and came up with a very short list of seven. Was T'Lun referring to one of them? He wanted to ask but he didn't. It would be a violation of Privacy and he wasn't certain if he wanted to know the answer.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

TBC…

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