Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to PotC or HP, as they remain the property of their respective owners. I do own the plot, though, and any additional characters I add. Also, the familiar dialogue is from the PotC films, which are owned by Disney and directed by Gore Verbinski.
Hermione stirred in her sleep, remaining perfectly still, her eyes still closed. She expected to feel the cold, unyielding surface of the wooden pier beneath her, but instead, she was surprised to find herself lying atop a soft mattress, her head cushioned by a feather pillow. The unexpected comfort made her question whether the events of the previous night had been nothing more than a troubling nightmare. Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and glanced towards the far corner of the room. Her gaze landed on the scarlet curtains that surrounded her bed, and she assumed she was in the girls’ dormitories in Gryffindor Tower.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7V2Tc91DiK
As Hermione’s eyes adjusted to her surroundings, an uneasy feeling crept over her, prickling the back of her neck. It was as though someone, unseen, was watching her every move from the shadows. Instinctively, she reached beneath her pillow, searching for her wand. To her dismay, her fingers met only the cool fabric of the pillowcase. Alarmed, Hermione sat up abruptly, lifting the pillow to look underneath, but there was nothing there except the stark whiteness of the bedsheet. Her frustration showed plainly on her face as she scowled at the empty spot where her wand should have been.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpOY0uQAeWh
Hermione reached out and ran her hand across the duvet, immediately noticing its unfamiliar texture. The fabric was remarkably soft, far superior to what she was accustomed to, with a luxurious blend that seemed to combine the plushness of velvet with the smoothness of silk. Although Hermione hesitated to voice any complaint about the comfort, she could not help but wonder about the reason behind the change, and where this fine duvet might have come from.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡac3UZJgLos
Hermione’s frown deepened as she tried to piece together the events that had led her here. She found herself wondering who could have discovered her unconscious in the library and had taken the care to help her into bed at the ruined castle. The uncertainty gnawed at her, and she resolved to seek out Harry to ask him directly about what had happened.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOcSaiF8D3I
Letting out a tired yawn, Hermione reached for the curtain that encircled her bed and pulled it aside, only to be confronted by a room cloaked in darkness. Her gaze shifted to the bedside table, where she noticed an oil lamp resting quietly. For a moment, she hesitated, puzzled by the absence of her usual source of light and curious as to why she now had this lamp instead. After a moment’s reflection, Hermione reasoned that much of the castle’s contents had likely been damaged or destroyed during the war. She concluded that Dumbledore must have provided her with the oil lamp as a temporary solution until more permanent arrangements could be made. Hermione shrugged once more, her mind still clouded by uncertainty. She reached forward, turning the knob to let in some light, hoping the illumination would bring her clarity. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes, steeling herself for whatever she might see once the room was revealed.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZeF83Lmzp5
With a slow, deliberate movement, Hermione swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She expected to feel the usual chill of a stone floor beneath her feet—a sensation she knew all too well from her time at Hogwarts. Instead, she was met with an unexpected softness. Her feet touched a carpet, not cold stone, and she moved her toes across the plush surface in disbelief. With the oil lamp casting a gentle glow around the room, Hermione’s gaze drifted downwards. She was surprised to discover that the carpet beneath her feet was immaculate—brilliantly white, fluffy, and invitingly soft. The sight drew a small smile from her lips as she recalled Dumbledore’s mention of refurbishments throughout the castle. At the time, she hadn’t fully appreciated the scale or ambition of his plans. Yet now, as she took in the comfort and luxury of her surroundings, it became apparent that this was precisely the transformation he had envisioned.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoSWvm69gOC
At that moment, Hermione became acutely aware of what she was wearing—a nightgown that left much of her exposed, particularly around the bodice. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she realised just how revealing it was. Instinctively, Hermione’s eyes darted about the room in search of something—anything—that could offer her some modesty. Her gaze settled on a dressing gown draped over the back of a chair by what appeared to be a vanity. Without hesitation, she hurried across the room, seized the dressing gown, and wrapped it tightly around herself, grateful for even this small comfort.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp8nF661Di1
Hermione stood motionless in the dimly lit room, her thoughts swirling with confusion and mild indignation. The unfamiliar nightgown clung awkwardly to her, both its style and fit so far removed from her usual preferences that she could not help but wonder who had chosen such attire for her. The garment was ghastly in her eyes—uncomfortably revealing and wholly inappropriate for the situation she found herself in.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUZopFEspOr
Her mind immediately jumped to Harry, suspecting that he might be the culprit behind her current predicament. The idea of Harry, perhaps in a moment of misguided helpfulness, selecting these clothes for her made Hermione bristle with irritation. With a determined set to her jaw, she silently resolved that she would confront him about it at the earliest opportunity, and, in her frustration, jokingly vowed to “kill him” for his lack of consideration.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGCp7dObr8k
As Hermione took in her surroundings, she became increasingly aware that the room was not the familiar girls’ dormitory she had always known. The curtains were huge, much too big to conceal the modest, church-like windows characteristic of Gryffindor Tower. Her eyes moved around the space, and she noticed that there was only a single bed present. This led her to speculate that perhaps Dumbledore had arranged for each of them to have their own individual room, possibly as a precaution. It seemed plausible that the Gryffindor Tower had sustained damage or fallen into disrepair, rendering it unsafe or impractical to lodge there for the time being.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYVvfodrHqK
Hermione’s mind began to race as she considered the question of why Dumbledore had not sent them home after everything that had happened. She reasoned that, for Harry, remaining at Hogwarts seemed understandable. He was an orphan, and with Voldemort’s actions having taken away whatever family he might have had, the castle was as close to a home as he could claim. Even so, Harry did have other options available to him—he could have gone back to Grimmauld Place, or perhaps stayed with the Weasleys, who had always welcomed him as one of their own.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMOZwr9YJJP
As for herself, Hermione was struck by the painful realisation that she, too, was now an orphan, with nowhere else to turn. The absence of family or a place to call home explained why she remained at the castle. The thought brought a sharp sting of loneliness, and despite her efforts to suppress it, tears welled in her eyes. She forced herself to push aside these overwhelming emotions, unwilling to let them consume her in that moment.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5rUNGbL65y
Hermione’s thoughts soon turned to Ron, her concern for his well-being growing stronger with every passing moment. She wondered anxiously whether he was all right after everything that had happened. Resolving to see him for herself, Hermione decided she would get dressed and make her way to St. Mungo’s Hospital, where she assumed he had already been taken for treatment. The idea of visiting Ron gave her a sense of purpose amid her confusion, and she clung to it as she began preparing for the day ahead.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPtd6sYxwZF
Hermione took a final glance around the darkened room, her nerves taut with anticipation. Gathering her composure, she moved towards the window and, with a deep, steadying breath, reached for the curtains. With a swift motion, she pulled them open, bracing herself for the familiar sight of the Hogwarts grounds.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtecSlG29O1
However, the view that greeted her was entirely unexpected. Instead of the rolling lawns and ancient stonework of Hogwarts, Hermione found herself looking out upon an unfamiliar but breathtaking landscape. The grounds beyond the window were alive with colour—vivid gardens bursting with flowers, all basking in the brilliance of the sun high overhead. The scene was almost idyllic, painted with light and life in a way that sharply contrasted the uncertainty she felt within.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0ZR6HSTOhz
But Hermione’s sense of wonder was short-lived. In an instant, her attention locked onto a feature in the distance—a pier, unmistakable in its form and location. Recognition struck her with the force of a physical blow; it was the very pier where she had collapsed the night before. The memory of the ledger’s ominous writing surged back to the forefront of her mind, raw and immediate, making her heart race with renewed panic. The intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm her, and she instinctively gripped the window frame, steadying herself as a wave of dizziness almost pulled her under once more.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8XxmtveJYQ
Somehow, she found herself in the past.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ154AjHOVDY
Panic seized Hermione as her gaze darted desperately around the unfamiliar room. Her heart pounded until she spotted her clothes, folded with care and placed on a chair beside the bed. The sight brought a glimmer of comfort amid her confusion. She hurried over, but the long hem of her dressing gown tangled around her feet, causing her to stumble awkwardly.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWQxgho9st8
Steadying herself, Hermione began rifling through the pockets of her robes, her hands shaking with urgency. When her fingers finally closed around the familiar shape of her wand, a wave of pure relief washed through her. The reassurance its presence provided was overwhelming; she nearly hugged the slender piece of wood, clinging to it as though it were her only lifeline in this perplexing situation. In that moment, all her anxieties about how she had ended up in the past seemed to melt away, replaced by the singular comfort of having her wand safely in hand.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBUWgeMNAaI
Hermione paused for a moment, narrowing her eyes at her gown as she quietly muttered a spell, altering it to be less revealing and more suitable to her current circumstances. With this small act of magic, she tucked her wand into the pocket of her dressing gown, its reassuring presence offering her a sense of safety and comfort.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwB89ljZmMm
She briefly considered changing into her own clothes and seeking out someone who could explain her whereabouts. However, she quickly dismissed the idea, recognising that her usual attire was highly out of place in this setting. Hermione understood the importance of blending in and realised she needed to dress as a woman would in this era if she hoped to avoid drawing unwanted attention while she searched for a way home.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAizcXykHEi
Hermione approached the door and reached for the handle, intending to open it. Just as she was about to turn the knob, a gentle knock interrupted her actions, causing her to freeze in place. She stared at the door, her body tense and her heart racing with apprehension. For a moment, she hesitated, unsure whether to respond or remain silent. Before she could decide, the knock sounded again, this time louder and more insistent. The unexpectedness of it unsettled her further. Then, from the other side of the door, a male voice called out, ‘Can I come in?’192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvA6tHzTo7d
Hermione hesitated for a moment, considering the possibility of refusing the offer. The uncertainty of her situation and the unfamiliarity of those around her made the decision difficult. After a brief pause, she resolved not to object. Instead, she replied quietly, ‘Yes.’192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZN2tL1dDEe
At that moment, the door swung open and a gentleman entered, his attire strikingly bright and somewhat eccentric. There was an unmistakable air of fatherliness in the way he carried himself. Without warning, he stepped forward and enveloped Hermione in a warm embrace. The gesture caught her completely off guard, and as he released her, he held her at arm’s length, carefully studying her face with a fond, searching expression. ‘It is wonderful to see you, though I did not anticipate you home until April. No matter,’ he declared, his smile broad and genuine. He then leaned in and kissed her lightly on the forehead, a gesture so unexpected and intimate that Hermione felt a surge of panic, nearly compelling her to flee the room in utter confusion.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDsnh5hB3E1
Instead of running away, Hermione remained rooted to the spot, her confusion evident as she gazed at the gentleman before her. ‘I’m sorry?’ she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. She struggled to reconcile the warmth of his greeting with the fact that she had no recollection of who he was or why he seemed to know her so well.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbAenduvGS7
The man’s brows drew together in concern as he gave a gentle tut of disapproval. ‘Now, now, there’s no time for your games this morning, young lady,’ he said with a soft, paternal admonishment. With a subtle gesture, he beckoned to the two maids standing behind him, one of whom stepped forward carrying a simple white box in her hands. ‘I bought gifts for you and your sister,’ he continued, his voice warm yet tinged with worry. ‘I had made arrangements to send yours to the University, but it seems those plans have changed. After all, you were found on the pier this morning—soaking wet, wearing rather unusual clothes.’ His eyes searched her face, seeking answers to the puzzle her appearance presented. As she stared at him, disbelief written across her features, he pressed gently, ‘May I ask what happened to find you in such a situation?’192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT37NQGTbM3
Hermione stared at the man before her, her confusion mounting with every passing second. She tried desperately to make sense of his words, but nothing seemed to add up. Her voice trembled as she spoke, betraying her uncertainty. ‘Um... what are you talking about? Who are you? I don’t have a sister,’ she managed, her eyes searching his face for any sign of recognition or understanding.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS3nd3TXz7K
The man’s frown deepened as he studied Hermione’s features, his eyes lingering on her head. Concern etched lines across his face, and he spoke in a gentle yet worried tone. ‘Hm, it seems you may have hit your head more severely than we thought. We should have that rechecked,’ he remarked, his expression softening into a reassuring smile as he tried to put her at ease. Despite his evident concern, he chose not to dwell on the matter for the moment. ‘But we can address that later,’ he assured her, signalling that there were more immediate things to attend to. 192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKHcUUgnqSL
With a decisive movement, he took the large white box from the maid who stood nearby and turned to Hermione, presenting it with a flourish. ‘Well, here you are,’ he said, offering the gift to her with a kindly nod, his attempt at normalcy contrasting with the underlying anxiety in his actions.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJqkdMocYYC
Hermione, still uncertain and bewildered by the situation, accepted the box from the man out of courtesy. Unsure of what to do next, she moved to the bed and set the box down, casting wary glances at it as though it might somehow spring open and attack her. Sensing the man’s growing impatience, Hermione decided to open the box. Inside, she discovered a stunning emerald-green dress. The sight of it took her breath away. She reached in and gently lifted the dress, her hands running over the sumptuous material. The detailed patterns and delicate lace adorning the bodice and cuffs captivated her, drawing a murmur of admiration. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said softly, her voice filled with awe as she examined the gown.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8860S9WWIa
Despite her appreciation for the gift, Hermione’s unease persisted. She shook her head, carefully folding the dress and placing it back into the box. Turning to face the man, she hesitated before speaking in a low voice. ‘I can’t accept this,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t even know who you are. It would be rude to take such a lovely gown...’ Her words trailed off as she once more reached out to touch the dress, torn between gratitude and confusion.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4QelI0s3wB
The man’s frown deepened as he studied Hermione, his concern clearly etched across his features. With a quiet sigh, he moved to stand beside her, his presence both reassuring and authoritative. ‘I will have the doctor come in to check on you without delay. You appear to have completely lost your memory,’ he said, his voice thick with anxiety. Reaching out, he gently touched a welt on the right side of her head, causing Hermione to flinch in surprise, only just becoming aware of the injury herself. 192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYIB9laEAZE
Despite the worry in his eyes, he managed a small, comforting smile. ‘In any case, I see no reason why I shouldn’t dote upon my daughters,’ he remarked, his tone softening. The words sparked a brief, involuntary smile from Hermione, reminding her of her own father in painful ways. The realisation hit her with such force that she struggled to maintain her composure; tears threatened to spill over as the weight of her situation—the death of her parents and the uncertainty of her circumstances—swept over her. Not wishing to draw attention to her distress, Hermione quickly blinked away the tears before he could notice.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0Goe4MY2ht
Turning away, the man addressed the maids with a decisive gesture, pointing to the dress. ‘Help her into it,’ he commanded. The maids responded with a graceful curtsy, then moved to direct Hermione behind a folding screen in the corner of the room, one of them gathering the emerald-green dress as they went.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAarlUiz44z
‘Um… wait, I don’t think—’ Hermione started to say, her uncertainty evident in her tone. She opened her mouth to protest further, but before she could finish her sentence, the man cut her off, swiftly interjecting and steering the conversation back under his control.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkIVglgay9i
‘As I mentioned to your sister, you could wear it to the ceremony that is taking place this morning up at the Fort.’192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE2azfhZq0y
‘Huh?’ she managed, her voice strained as the ribbons pulled tighter around her waist. The sudden constriction left her breathless, her hands instinctively clawing at her chest in search of relief.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFC43HWViUw
The man looked out the window, his expression thoughtful. ‘I don’t suppose you remember James Norrington?’ he asked, his tone gentle yet probing, as though searching for a glimmer of recognition.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpQxk2KeXmo
Hermione hesitated, the name stirring a faint sense of familiarity within her. Despite this fleeting recognition, she dismissed it almost immediately, uncertainty clouding her expression. She shook her head, her voice soft and uncertain as she replied, ‘Um… no.’192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVtCeVyidw8
The man gave a quiet snicker, his gaze distant as he reflected aloud. ‘I doubt you would even if your memory were intact. You were only ten when we made the crossing from England,’ he remarked, his tone more contemplative than conversational. He continued, shifting the subject with a note of pride and speculation. ‘Today, he is being promoted from Captain to Commodore.’ The significance of the event was evident from the tone of his voice, though Hermione struggled to connect the details. ‘If I can only surmise as true to gossip these days, I believe he is going to propose to Elizabeth. Though I only have my suspicions,’ he added, his voice lowering conspiratorially.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsKgSGCSAMT
Hermione’s brow furrowed at the mention of “Elizabeth”. She found herself grappling with confusion, unable to recall who this woman was or why she might be important in the unfolding events. The unfamiliar names and circumstances only deepened her sense of disorientation in this strange new world.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdRjdvJbPPg
A tense silence filled the room while the maids worked at the back of Hermione’s dress, their hands deftly pulling and tying the ribbons. She gasped, struggling against the unyielding garment, and the discomfort was etched across her face. After a moment, the man broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension. ‘How is it coming?’ he inquired, directing his attention to the maids as they secured the final knots and ensured the dress fit as snugly as possible.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaU6e4KmfCA
Hermione pressed her hands tightly against her chest, her breathing growing shallow and laboured. ‘I... can’t...’ she muttered, struggling to take a deep breath as the constriction around her waist intensified. Panic flickered across her face, and she instinctively clawed at the bodice, desperate for some relief from the suffocating pressure.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0JGKUMZp0f
He responded with a gentle smile, his gaze drifting back to the window. ‘I’ve heard it’s the latest fashion in London,’ he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of pride and amusement.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNGtN0EH9m4
‘My chest…’ she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. The relentless tightening of the ribbons left her struggling to draw breath, each inhale growing shallower as the fabric pressed firmly against her ribcage. Panic flickered across her face, and she instinctively brought her hands to her chest, clawing at the bodice in search of relief. The overwhelming sense of constriction made her dizzy and desperate, her movements frantic as she fought against the suffocating pressure of the dress.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ75EyqRDsAT
A sudden knock at the door interrupted them, and the man turned his attention towards the entrance as the Butler appeared, bowing respectfully. ‘Milord, you have a visitor,’ the Butler announced in a formal tone. Without waiting for a response, the Butler quietly exited the room, ensuring the door was firmly closed behind him.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡggtf7Qe6T0
The man released a weary sigh, his expression softening as he addressed Hermione. ‘I am sorry, Callista, but I must greet this new visitor. I will see you shortly,’ he said, his words gentle yet leaving her with a renewed sense of confusion. As he turned to leave, Hermione listened to the fading sound of his footsteps, the quiet click of the door opening and then closing, marking his departure from the room.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq1f2Wb7td6
Hermione’s mind raced with questions as she mulled over the name the man had used. Did he really call her Callista? Was that truly the name he had given his daughter? She frowned, trying to understand the significance behind his choice. What could have prompted him to select such a distinctive name? She found herself puzzled by his unwavering conviction that she was his child. Why was he so sure of her identity? Hermione struggled to reconcile the man’s belief, wondering what had led him to this conclusion and why he seemed so sure.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJrT56jlmgH
After the maids had completed their task, they offered Hermione a respectful curtsy and quietly exited the room, leaving her alone at last. With the chamber now empty, Hermione felt a brief moment of privacy. She immediately moved towards her dressing gown and retrieved her wand. She pointed it at herself and cast a spell to gently loosen the suffocating tightness of the dress. A wave of relief washed over her as she was finally able to breathe more easily, the oppressive pressure around her chest and waist easing. Satisfied with the improved fit, she tucked her wand securely into her sleeve, ensuring it remained hidden yet accessible. With her breathing returned to normal and a sense of calm restored, Hermione turned her attention to the room, ready to explore her surroundings in greater detail.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzZcVMfVdsY
As she approached the box resting on the bed, Hermione noticed a pair of elegant green heels nestled at the bottom, their shade perfectly matching the colour of her dress. An involuntary smile tugged at her lips as she picked them up, appreciating the thoughtful coordination. Sliding her feet into the shoes, she paused for a moment, steadying herself—a necessary precaution, as she had only worn heels on a handful of occasions before. Once confident in her balance, Hermione began to explore the beautiful room, her gaze roaming over its exquisite features and intricate details, taking in surroundings that were at once foreign and captivating.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbeg7TRBEZW
She moved towards the vanity and began to inspect the collection of perfume bottles and powders meticulously arranged at the front. Leaning closer to the mirror, she caught sight of her honey-brown eyes reflecting her unease. Stepping back for a better look at herself, she scowled at the wild tangle of hair that stood in stark contrast to the refined lines of her gown. With a swift, practised motion, Hermione withdrew her wand and quietly cast a spell, smoothing her hair into sleek, shining curls that tumbled neatly down to the small of her back. She nodded to her reflection, thinking that if she was stuck here, then she may as well look the part to avoid suspicion until she could find a way to leave.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeN3Fsmo6oO
Hermione’s eyes were drawn to a beautiful bureau finished in rich walnut, upon which several pictures had been carefully arranged. Unable to resist her curiosity, she stepped closer and picked up one of the photographs. It depicted two girls, one clearly older than the other. What caught Hermione’s attention most was the uncanny resemblance between herself and the younger girl in the image. Suddenly, understanding dawned; it was apparent why the man believed she was his daughter—he must have assumed she was suffering from amnesia, which now seemed much more plausible given the circumstances. Hermione examined the older girl in the photo and concluded that she must be Elizabeth, the person the man had mentioned earlier. Their shared features unmistakably marked them as sisters. With a gentle touch, Hermione set the picture back on the bureau, her thoughts whirling with this new realisation.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhOcDVJoyqd
Hermione continued to grapple with the peculiar situation she found herself in. She wondered how long everyone would believe she was the daughter of a man she had never met. With a faint sigh, she brushed her curls aside, her mind filled with uncertainty. The idea of pretending to be Callista—feigning amnesia to explain her confusion—was not appealing in the slightest. Hermione disliked the thought of maintaining such a deception, yet the alternative seemed even more daunting.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZTf90m6ml6
She understood all too well the dangers of revealing her true identity or of admitting she was a witch from the future. The risk was far greater than mere disbelief; in this era, the use of magic could result in severe punishment, and Hermione knew she might even face the threat of being burned at the stake. The necessity of discretion weighed heavily on her. She would have to be exceedingly cautious and only resort to magic if necessary, ensuring that her actions went unnoticed by those around her.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA2qFNjQ136
Frustration bubbled up within Hermione, and she let out a quiet groan. The reality of her predicament was beginning to dawn on her—it was likely to be far more challenging than she had initially anticipated.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeg5HCJYkcE
A gentle knock at the door brought Hermione’s musings to an abrupt halt. She paused, momentarily uncertain, before granting the visitor permission to enter. The door opened quietly, and the older girl from the photograph Hermione had just examined stepped into the room. For a moment, Hermione was struck by how much more striking the woman appeared in person than in the faded image.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRCjIVQLmNX
The woman’s face lit up with a warm, affectionate smile as she crossed the room. Without hesitation, she drew Hermione into a gentle embrace. Hermione responded in kind, returning the hug, though she could not ignore the awkwardness she felt at the unexpected show of affection from someone who was a stranger to her. Nevertheless, the sincerity in the woman’s greeting was unmistakable. ‘How I have missed you, Calli!’ she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAbJviwyFBP
Calli? Hermione mused silently, the name echoing pleasantly in her mind. She found herself much preferring the affectionate diminutive to the more formal “Callista”.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4gshPyVwu2
Elizabeth stepped back, still holding Hermione gently at arm’s length. She regarded Hermione with concern and asked softly, ‘What happened? Father said that the soldiers found you fainted on the pier this morning.’ As she spoke, Elizabeth reached out and tenderly stroked Hermione’s hair.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡde1glaMQJe
Hermione hesitated, her eyes dropping to the floor as she struggled to find the right words. After a moment’s pause, she admitted quietly, ‘Honestly, I don’t know.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper, betraying her uncertainty and discomfort. She lifted her gaze to meet the woman’s eyes, noting that she was slightly taller than herself. With a hesitant breath, Hermione continued, ‘I don’t even know who you are,’ the confession leaving her lips as she regarded the woman’s stunned expression in silence.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHrN7PwlJcZ
Elizabeth—or at least the woman Hermione believed to be Elizabeth—sighed softly and lowered her gaze, her expression tinged with concern. She drew Hermione into another embrace, one that Hermione found herself unable to return. Affection was not something she was accustomed to, even from Harry and Ron.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS7GMeQS875
‘Father mentioned you had a fall, and your memory might be affected,’ Elizabeth said, gently pulling back from the hug. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away and offered Hermione a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure it will return soon,’ she added, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself as much as Hermione.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr4Hv5ZS8FX
Elizabeth extended her arm towards Hermione in invitation. ‘Would you come with me to meet father?’ she asked with a slight tilt of her head. Hermione hesitated at first, glancing down at the offered arm, before finally accepting it with a small smile. In that moment, she realised she might grow to like Elizabeth. Arm in arm, the two women left the room together, stepping carefully down the stairs, mindful not to trip over the long hems of their dresses.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaklG51xc9v
As they reached the top of the stairs leading to the ground floor, Hermione and Elizabeth overheard voices drifting from the hallway. Two men stood at the foot of the stairs: one was Elizabeth’s father, his posture proud and welcoming; the other was a younger, strikingly handsome man. Both men turned their attention towards the women as they approached, their expressions brightening. Elizabeth’s father broke into a broad smile, his eyes lighting up with delight. ‘Oh, Elizabeth, Callista! You both look absolutely stunning!’ he exclaimed, his voice ringing with genuine admiration.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH6a7CbdhY7
Carefully watching her step, Hermione made her way down the staircase beside Elizabeth. The two focused on each step, determined not to trip on the long hems of their dresses. As Hermione glanced up, she caught sight of Elizabeth’s expression—her eyes widened with unmistakable joy. ‘Will!’ Elizabeth called out, her voice bubbling with happiness. In her excitement, she released Hermione’s arm and hurried the rest of the way down the stairs with a lightness in her step. Hermione, meanwhile, proceeded at a slower, more measured pace, concentrating on maintaining her balance as she descended.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvv6P5ew7CP
Upon reaching the ground floor, Elizabeth wasted no time in greeting Will. She enveloped him in a warm embrace, her delight evident. ‘It’s so nice to see you!’ she exclaimed, stepping back to beam at him.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFh6CbtJOBV
Hermione, still on the staircase, dropped her gaze and tried to focus on her descent, but she found her eyes drawn repeatedly to Will. There was something about the way he looked at Elizabeth—almost as though he was struggling for breath—that held her attention. Elizabeth, for her part, seemed even more radiant, her smile growing impossibly wider.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHe7mGULgQZ
‘I had a dream about you last night,’ Elizabeth confessed to Will, her tone gentle and sincere. Hermione, feeling awkward and out of place amidst the affectionate exchange between people she hardly knew, paused about four steps from the bottom. She fussed with her dress, pretending to adjust the fabric, hoping it would excuse her from joining the conversation for the moment. Despite her discomfort, she couldn’t help but listen, acutely aware of her outsider status even as those around her acted as though she were someone familiar.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt9GjDJghfN
Will’s voice rang out in surprise. ‘About me?’ she heard him ask, his tone marked by unexpected curiosity.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqif3M7ntEb
Elizabeth’s father, observing the interaction between Elizabeth and Will, grew increasingly uncomfortable as their conversation unfolded. He shifted his feet, betraying his unease. Clearing his throat, he addressed Elizabeth, ‘Yes, well, is that entirely proper for you to…’192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTc3SGse1Dd
Elizabeth, determined not to let her father’s words distract her, kept her attention firmly on Will. ‘About the day we met, do you remember?’ she asked, her smile unwavering and her eyes bright with fond recollection as she looked at him, clearly cherishing the memory.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoEA7CqZBmZ
Will met Elizabeth’s gaze with a gentle warmth. ‘How could I forget, Miss Swann?’ he replied, his tone filled with respect and quiet affection. As he spoke, he offered her a slight smile, bowing his head in a gesture that conveyed his deep regard for her and the significance of the memory they shared.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJyxqIZHlg0
Elizabeth glanced downward for a brief moment, hesitating as if collecting her thoughts. Then, she raised her eyes to meet Will’s once more, the faint smile never quite leaving her lips. ‘Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?’ she said, her tone gentle but tinged with playful exasperation.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXMAV9zFnfk
Hermione’s brow furrowed as she lingered on the staircase, a faint sense of exclusion settling over her. It felt as though the others had entirely overlooked her presence; Will, in particular, seemed oblivious to her, which she privately considered rather impolite. She caught herself before dwelling too long on the slight, unable to understand why it should bother her so much. After all, she reminded herself, she was not Callista, and it did not seem her place to interject into the conversation.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ13jFdCPMaw
Will offered a gentle smile as he replied, ‘At least once more, Miss Swann. As always.’ His words, though courteous, carried a formality that seemed to create a distance between them. Hermione glanced towards Elizabeth, trying to discern her response. The broad smile that had illuminated Elizabeth’s face only moments earlier faded, replaced by a look of unease. She lowered her gaze, her posture reflecting a sudden discomfort at Will’s continued use of her formal title, and the subtle shift in their interaction did not go unnoticed by Hermione, who quietly observed the emotional change. She felt bad for Elizabeth as it was apparent she held more than just a passing affection for Will.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz0AKC0aib7
Hermione glanced up just in time to catch the older man’s smile, directed first at her, then at Elizabeth. ‘There. See? At least the boy has a sense of propriety,’ he remarked, his tone light but approving. Turning to both young women, he continued, ‘Now, we really must be going.’ With that, he stooped to retrieve two parasols that were resting nearby. Straightening, he handed one to Elizabeth before offering the other to Hermione, who had stepped down a couple of steps to accept it.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyoExIOSZ3X
Will, lost in thought, appeared oblivious to Hermione’s presence until he suddenly looked up. His gaze landed on her at last, and the surprise was plain on his face; his mouth fell open in astonishment, clearly betraying that he had not realised she had been there all along. Hermione, catching the full force of his startled attention, felt a wave of shyness wash over her, and a warm flush rose to her cheeks as she stood under his scrutiny.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNYgGW0s9ik
Elizabeth cast a glance in their direction, her expression guarded, before she turned to face Will. ‘Good day, Mr Turner,’ she greeted him, her words edged with a subtle bitterness.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmzExL7TzfZ
As Elizabeth gathered her skirts and strode past Will, he watched her with evident astonishment, his eyes widening at her abrupt departure. ‘Good day, Miss Swann,’ he called after her, though she appeared not to register his words. A quiet sigh escaped him, disappointment flickering across his features.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeZ3UJW236s
Turning his attention, Will noticed Hermione descending the staircase and addressed her, his tone polite but tinged with surprise. ‘I was unaware you were back so soon from University, Miss Swann. You were not expected until April, but it is wonderful to have you back nonetheless,’ he remarked, offering her a respectful inclination of his head. A concerned expression crossed his face as he continued, ‘I had heard a rather curious rumour that you have amnesia.’ The worry in his voice was unmistakable, betraying his unease over the news he had received.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKnM2rpKIZr
Hermione offered Will a small, uncertain smile. ‘I honestly don’t remember what happened. I can’t recall anything,’ she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration as she shook her head. The faint smile faded from her lips, replaced by a look of vulnerability. After a moment, Hermione looked up at Will again, her expression softening. ‘Please call me Calli. Being called Miss Swann is sure to get me mixed up with Elizabeth,’ she added, a gentle smile returning to her face. Her request was both practical and personal, reflecting her desire for individuality and a sense of ease amid confusion.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡStqVyTsDEj
Will’s lips curved into a slight grin as he met Hermione’s gaze. ‘Of course, Calli,’ he replied, his tone light and genuine. The ease with which he adopted her chosen name took her by surprise, and her eyes widened as she realised just how simple it had been to persuade him to set aside the formalities. She couldn’t help but wonder why he wouldn’t do the same for Elizabeth.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYcZ4T7ppke
‘It was a pleasure to see you again. I hope your memory returns soon,’ Will said warmly. He then reached for her hand and, with a gentle, respectful gesture, lifted it to his lips. His touch was soft as he pressed a delicate kiss to her knuckles, offering both reassurance and a touch of old-fashioned courtesy.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFQ3HZExfOL
Hermione’s cheeks coloured as she returned Will’s gaze and gave him a small smile. ‘Thank you, Will. Have a good day,’ she said politely, her voice steady despite the lingering blush. Without further hesitation, she walked past him, following Elizabeth and Governor Swann out of the Manor, and made her way towards the waiting carriage.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZzcbbayIsQ
Outside, Hermione paused near the horse-drawn carriage, waiting patiently as Governor Swann and Elizabeth climbed inside. She took a moment to glance back at the Manor, her eyes seeking Will. He stood at the doorway, watching her intently, his expression unreadable. Hermione offered him a gentle smile and a small, reassuring wave before she entered the carriage herself. As the carriage set off, Hermione’s gaze lingered on Will. She watched him through the window until the Manor faded from sight, her thoughts quietly occupied with the memory of their brief encounter.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuyGeGJHliM
As the carriage rolled away, Will remained rooted to the spot, watching Elizabeth, Callista, and Governor Swann depart. His gaze lingered on Callista, her presence leaving a distinct impression on his mind. She seemed even more radiant than he recalled. A gentle sigh escaped him, betraying the effect she had on him, and an involuntary smile curved his lips as he stood in silent contemplation. ‘Calli...’ he murmured to himself, savouring the sound of her name. After a moment, Will turned away from the manor, his thoughts still occupied with Callista, and began to make his way down the pebbled path that led towards the town.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBKHh9JteXr
Hermione let out a quiet sigh as she settled into the plush carriage seat, her posture relaxing against the soft upholstery. She glanced over at Elizabeth, who sat beside her, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. Elizabeth’s face was unreadable, her expression distant and blank as the carriage rumbled through the streets.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXkcqNAkqjE
In an effort to break the silence, Governor Swann cleared his throat, the sound deliberate and meant to capture Elizabeth’s attention. Elizabeth responded to the prompt, turning away from the window and raising her eyebrows in mild surprise. ‘Father?’ she queried, her tone inquisitive as she acknowledged his attempt to engage her.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSanZH0QeZq
Governor Swann fixed Elizabeth with a stern look, his tone taking on a more formal edge. ‘Dear, I do hope you will demonstrate a bit more decorum in front of Commodore Norrington. After all, it is only through his efforts that Port Royal has become at all civilised,’ he said firmly, making his expectations clear and leaving little room for disagreement.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3K8jqNaGJN
Elizabeth averted her gaze from Governor Swann, her eyes fixed firmly on the carriage floor. The atmosphere within the carriage grew more tense, causing Hermione to shift uneasily in her seat. In an effort to distract herself from the strained exchange, Hermione turned her attention to the world outside. She gazed through the carriage window, quietly observing the town as they made their way through its bustling streets, seeking solace in the changing scenery beyond the confines of their tense surroundings.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc4HikKn8e2
From behind a rugged outcrop near the promontory, a sail billowed out across the sea, catching the sunlight as it cut a striking figure against the horizon. Perched high in the rigging on the landward side of the sail was a man who could only be described as the quintessential “swashbuckling rogue.” His appearance was as distinctive as it was unforgettable: his hair, intricately braided, was festooned with an array of brightly coloured beads, each one secured beneath a vivid red bandana that peeked out from beneath a weathered, dark grey hat.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡneA2Al8SVI
His dark brown eyes, rimmed with black charcoal, held a piercing intensity, their darkness further emphasised by the bold strokes of kohl. The sun had bronzed his skin, a testament to countless days spent braving the open sea. A goatee, braided and adorned with beads to match those in his hair, framed his chin, while a well-groomed moustache completed the look. Every detail of his attire and bearing—down to the smallest bead and the set of his jaw—spoke unmistakably of piracy, making it abundantly clear that this was a man whose life was as colourful and daring as his appearance.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa1Vs4HL09R
Looking down from his high perch in the rigging, his expression changed, shifting from confident bravado to a worried frown. Without hesitation, he jumped down onto the deck of the small fishing dory, which was equipped with a single, weathered sail. The vessel, named “The Jolly Roger,” had its moniker boldly emblazoned along the side, lending it an air of boldness that belied its current state.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkmg6TSK54L
As the dory sliced through the choppy water, he quickly crossed to the opposite side and seized a battered bucket. It was immediately apparent that the boat was in dire straits; water was pouring in at an alarming rate through the warped timbers. Moving with urgency, he returned to where he had landed, filled the bucket with water from the rapidly rising pool at his feet, and hurled it overboard, determined to stave off the inevitable for as long as he could.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhuBZXQYmMO
As he hurled another bucket of water over the side, a sudden movement caught his eye, drawing his attention away from the mounting crisis beneath his feet. He straightened abruptly, abandoning the bucket where it fell, and made his way to the very edge of the little boat. There, high upon a rocky promontory overlooking the bay, a grim tableau awaited him: the skeletal remains of three pirates, their bones clad in tattered buccaneer rags, swung gently from nooses fastened to the gallows. Beside them, a fourth noose hung empty, swaying in the breeze above a stark warning sign that read, “PIRATES YE BE WARNED.” He regarded the scene with sober reverence, his gaze lingering on the desolate warning. Slowly, he removed his hat, placed it solemnly against his chest as a mark of respect for the fallen, and offered a brief, two-fingered salute in their honour.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI4QcCjLlUd
The man adjusted his hat, settling it more firmly on his head, and cast a glance down at the boat as water continued to pour in with alarming speed. Calm amidst the chaos, he retreated towards the tiller, his movements efficient and unhurried. With only a single sheet to control, he manipulated the sail, expertly guiding the vessel past the looming promontory that jutted out over the bay.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3KC68xytO1
As the boat creaked and groaned beneath him, the whole expanse of Port Royal unfolded before his eyes—a panorama of bustling docks and grand ships, dominated by the imposing presence of the British Royal Navy. Unfazed by the worsening situation, he barely flinched as the icy seawater reached his knees. It was clear that the battle to save his battered craft was lost. With a resigned sigh, he scrambled up the mast once again, his agile ascent granting him a commanding view over the harbour.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG2bGWgt72r
From this lofty perch, his eyes were drawn immediately to the massive British Dreadnought, majestically anchored in the bay, its formidable silhouette a stark reminder of the Crown’s dominance. Yet, it was not the warship that held his attention for long. His gaze shifted, focusing on a smaller, sleeker vessel moored at the Navy landing directly below the imposing cliffs of the Fort. The sight of this agile ship piqued his interest, suggesting possibilities even as his own vessel slipped further beneath the waves.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5m9SrqH9Kt
He grinned as he looked down, noticing that the base of the boat was now completely submerged beneath the rising water. The waves crept gradually upwards along the mast, yet he remained perfectly calm, unfazed by the encroaching flood. As anticipated, the water climbed to within about a metre of where he stood, holding his position atop the mast. The vessel continued to sink until its bottom finally touched the ocean floor, coinciding with the water reaching the level of the pier. This fortunate alignment made for a smooth descent, allowing him to step directly from the mast onto the dock.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxcwQ5X9CIx
The Harbour Master, noticing the pirate’s unconventional arrival, stepped forward to offer his assistance in securing the battered dory to the dock. With a knowing smile, he cast a critical eye over the waterlogged vessel. ‘If you’re rolling scuppers in this tub, you’re either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid,’ he remarked with a hearty chuckle, making light of the perilous state of the boat and the audacity required to sail it into port. His tone, though teasing, carried a note of admiration for the man’s nerve in braving the choppy waters in such a dilapidated craft.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf7p9zi6SBx
The man offered a wry smirk in response. ‘It’s remarkable how often those two traits coincide,’ he replied, his tone laced with dry humour. With that, he turned away from the Harbour Master and strode purposefully up the dock. As he walked, he reached down to adjust his sword belt, ensuring it was securely fastened about his waist. The belt was more than just an accessory; it carried a well-worn scabbard, a sturdy compass, a pistol primed for action, and a small powder horn, each item thoughtfully positioned for swift access. His movements were smooth and practised, betraying a lifetime spent in readiness for whatever might await him beyond the bustling docks.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyfGsHxfUHQ
The Harbour Master brought the man’s confident stride to an abrupt halt with a stern glare. ‘Hey, hold up there, you,’ he called out before he could proceed further up the dock. The man turned back, curiosity flickering across his face as he wondered what more might be required of him. ‘It’s a shilling to tie up your boat at the dock,’ the Harbour Master explained, his tone leaving little room for negotiation. The pirate raised his eyebrows, casting a glance back at his vessel, which now sat almost completely submerged with only the mast protruding above the water’s surface. He looked once more at the Harbour Master, awaiting further instructions. ‘And I will need to know your name,’ the official added, holding up the ledger and flipping it open to the current day’s date, ready to record the details. The request was delivered with the authority of someone well-accustomed to enforcing the port’s rules, making it clear that no exceptions would be made—even for those whose boats barely qualified as seaworthy.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxQkHpHNhad
The man paused thoughtfully, weighing his options for a brief moment before letting out an exasperated sigh and rolling his eyes. With a practised hand, he reached into his pocket and produced a handful of coins. ‘What do ye say to three shillings... and we forget the name?’ he proposed, his voice steady as he placed the coins deliberately into the ledger the Harbour Master was holding. The young boy standing nearby watched the exchange with wide eyes, his expression betraying surprise and admiration at the man’s audacious offer.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCeWaJLv5f4
The Harbour Master regarded the pirate with surprise and intrigue, clearly taken aback by the boldness of the man’s offer. He paused for a moment, weighing the coins that now rested atop the open ledger. With a decisive motion, he closed the ledger on the money, accepting the bribe without further comment. A polite smile crossed his face as he stepped aside, granting the man passage. ‘Welcome to Port Royal, “Mr Smith”,’ he announced, his tone shifting from official authority to a more congenial welcome as he allowed the pirate to continue on his way.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz0SiPlTFqY
“Smith” smiled and offered a casual half-salute as he walked past, his manner both relaxed and slightly mischievous. He made his way to the podium, where a feathered quill stood upright in an inkwell, its tip stained and ready for use. Notably, the usual ledger was missing from its place, having been taken by the Harbour Master to the end of the pier when he came to meet him. 192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNGqE6ar1qd
What caught “Smith’s” attention, however, was the small brown leather pouch sitting next to the inkwell. He picked up the pouch and gave it a gentle shake, listening to the unmistakable clink of coins from within. Without hesitation, he slipped the pouch into his pocket, the action swift and practised.192Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFdpy1ZPcU1
As he glanced around the bustling harbour, “Smith’s” gaze returned to the sleek ship he had noticed earlier. Its presence brought a wide grin to his face, hinting at the possibilities the vessel might offer.
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