THE SOUL'S EXCHANGE

"From Hogwarts to Dragons and Direwolves"

The next time Hermione opened her eyes, her surroundings hadn’t changed. She was still in the mysterious room within Runestone, somewhere in the Vale. Teddy’s small body was curled against hers, his weight making her arm sore from cradling him for so long. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the dim light filtering in through the narrow windows, her senses gradually awakening to the cold draft and the unfamiliar, slightly musty smell of the ancient stone walls.

The ache in her arm brought a sense of reality to the situation, something tangible amid the uncertainty. Slowly, carefully, she shifted Teddy so he wouldn’t wake. He looked peaceful, his little face soft and untroubled, a small comfort in the midst of so much confusion. As Hermione tried to get comfortable again, she felt something warming in a hidden pocket of the odd, gown-like garment she was wearing. Her pulse quickened—there was something familiar about the sensation.

Fumbling through the fabric, she found it: the communication coin. Hermione gasped, her heart leaping in relief. Of all things, she hadn’t expected to find this here, in this place. But now, this small object, usually just a tool for casual communication, seemed like a lifeline.

She tapped it lightly, the cool metal quickly heating under her fingertips. With Teddy still asleep in her lap, Hermione sat upright, anticipation tightening in her chest. As the coin activated, two holograms flickered into existence in front of her. She froze. One was Sirius Black, and the other… she gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

It was Sitara Evangeline Autors. Her sister, her best friend, the only person who still felt like family to her.

"Tara!" Hermione cried, her voice thick with emotion. It had been so long since she had seen Sitara’s face, heard her voice.

"Hermione!" Sitara’s voice was just as surprised, just as emotional, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed between them. But the reunion was cut short by the baffled voice of Sirius.

"Hold on... I thought this was only a two-way mirror," Sirius said, scratching his head, his expression one of confused amusement.

Sitara let out a soft laugh, her holographic image rippling with the sound. Mione charmed it," she explained, glancing at Sirius, "to allow four people to communicate at the same time."

Hermione felt a tug of warmth in her chest at that familiar mix of ingenuity and care from Sitara. Despite everything, despite being worlds apart, Sitara had found a way to stay connected.

Hermione's moment of warmth was quickly replaced by the pressing anxiety that had been simmering under her skin. She had to focus. They didn’t have time for pleasantries. “Where the hell am I?” she blurted out, her voice sharper than intended, the words spilling out before she could stop herself.

Sitara inhaled deeply and began to explain. She recounted how she had died during childbirth and met Lord Death, who told her they needed to intervene in a civil war called the Dance of the Dragons. She went on to describe how she had been reincarnated as Alicent Hightower, destined to become the Green Queen, and married to Viserys Targaryen, the king of the Seven Kingdoms.

Sirius cut in, startled. "You have children?"

Sitara sighed. "Yes, two. My eldest is Aegon II Targaryen, and the younger one... I named Sirion after you." She smiled, though it was tinged with sadness.

Sirius grinned at the mention of his namesake, but Hermione couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose in distaste at Sitara’s revelation about Viserys. "So, you're technically married?" Hermione asked.

Sitara nodded. "Yes, to Viserys Targaryen. But he's far from a great king or husband. From what I’ve gathered, he married Alicent out of duty after his first wife died — all for the sake of having sons."

"Disgusting," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"I know, right?" Sitara said with a dry laugh. Even Regulus, who was accustomed to the politics of the pure-blood world, winced at the notion.

"But," Regulus added cautiously, "sometimes politics demand sacrifices like that." He sighed, understanding the complexity behind it.

Hermione bit her lip, glancing down at Teddy, who stirred slightly but didn’t wake. She hated that Regulus was right. She had seen firsthand how the wizarding world worked. Sometimes, compromises had to be made, even if they were heart-wrenching. Her thoughts wandered to the wars they had fought, the lives they had lost—how much had been sacrificed for the sake of peace.

Sirius interrupted the silence, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "So... let me get this straight. You’re the queen of the Seven Kingdoms, married to some king who’s a terrible husband, and you have children—dragons are involved—and this civil war is about to break out?"

Sitara nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes. The war will be between my eldest son, Aegon II Targaryen, and..." she paused for a moment, "my stepdaughter/ex-best friend, But there’s more than just dragons here. There’s magic—the magic of the First Men, especially in the North, under the sigil of House Stark."

"Wait," Regulus interrupted. "The Starks... do they have a direwolf as their sigil?"

Sitara nodded. "Yes, their sigil is a direwolf."

Hermione saw the realization dawn on their faces. Regulus and Sirius exchanged glances, the same thought passing between them. "We woke up in a weirwood tree," Sirius said, his voice almost reverent. "That must mean we’re Starks, too."

Sitara’s eyes lit up. "Yes. You both are indeed Starks. Sirius, based on your age, you look about 28, which makes you two years older than Cregan Stark, the heir to the North. And Regulus," she glanced at him, "you’re about 18, which makes you the youngest Stark."

Hermione noted how Sirius and Regulus exchanged a look, processing this new identity. What would it mean for them to be Starks in this world, to be part of such an ancient, powerful lineage? She felt a flicker of something she hadn’t felt in a while—a twinge of hope. They weren’t alone in this. They were together, bound by something deeper than blood, something transcendent.

But there was still so much to understand. Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment from a nearby drawer, along with some ink, and began noting everything down, documenting every detail Sitara shared about this world. The names, the places, the politics. There was so much she didn’t know, but she would learn. She always did.

Sitara turned to her again, breaking Hermione's thoughts. "Hermione, can you describe where you are? Anything specific? A sigil, perhaps?"

Hermione looked around, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on a banner hanging near the door. The symbol stood out against the fabric—a circle of runes surrounding a white stone.

Sitara’s expression shifted, as if pieces of a puzzle were falling into place. "Then you’re likely related to Rhea Royce, the current Lady of Runestone," she said thoughtfully. "And if I’m not mistaken, she’s married to Daemon Targaryen, my husband’s younger brother."

"Of course," Hermione muttered, her mind spinning. She was connected to the Targaryens, even if it was through complicated marriage ties. This was all becoming too surreal, yet it was her reality now.

"So, what’s the plan?" Sirius asked, leaning forward, his voice serious, his eyes sharp.

Sitara smiled, the determined glint Hermione knew so well flashing across her face. "There will be a tourney soon. People from all over the realm will gather. I want you both to volunteer to attend. We need to meet in person, and there we can discuss our next steps. I’ll speak to Lord Death—Lord Thanatos—and gather more information."

Sirius and Regulus exchanged a glance and nodded in agreement. Hermione remained silent, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her chest. This was only the beginning, she realized. A dangerous path lay ahead, full of unknowns, but at least they were in it together.

As the holograms flickered and disappeared, Hermione stared at the empty space before her, her mind swirling with thoughts, questions, and fears. They were going to a tourney. But what would come next?

The road ahead was anything but clear.