SilverWoodSketches

And we’re back with a fresh and fun book review thanks to the lovely folks at Lone Star Lit! I’ve always been a sucker for time travel and body swap stories. Everything from Outlander to Freaky Friday, and 13 Going On 30. If it involves a character displaced in time or relative space, I’m your gal. Which is why Feels Like the First Time was such a fun read for me. Most of y’all already know I’m…

“No matter how long you persist in your silence, no matter how long it takes, I will never leave you. I will never forsake you, or betray you...”

Chapter 26 is finally live, friends! This one took me ages to get the tone right (since you all know I’m unfortunately a perfectionist with my craft), but I’m finally happy to share the aftermath of the Yule Ball, and to hint at what’s to come... Keep reading for a sneak peek:

Muffled sounds reached her first between strange dreams, like the missing pieces of a song she thought she knew.

“How dare you come here like this when I warned you what would happen.”

“—forgiveness, my lord.”

“—not my forgiveness you need.”

And blur of golden candlelight, a gleam of raven feathers, and then a vacuum of power, as though all magic and beauty had fled the room.

“She needs her family now, more than ever,” a woman… Aunt Cassie?

“—made a mistake. We of all people should have known…” Grandfather Arcturus?

A clammy hand squeezed hers, and a voice rough from lack of sleep whispered by her ear. “Wake up soon, would you? I’m losing my mind stuck with only them…. Don’t leave me alone, Hermione. Please.”

I won’t, Draco. I promise, she tried to say.

She drifted, and occasionally someone tilted her head and forced her to drink potions. And there were moments in between, when she could have sworn she felt feathers against her fingers, and then cool hands cupping her cheeks, whispered words breathing life and magic back into her flesh.

“You may not remember much, but know this, little Phoenix. I have remained closeby as long as I could, but I will not leave you unprotected. If you need me, I will know, and I will come for you. I’ll always come for you, Hermione.”

I know you will, Tom, a part of her tried to say, then drifted away with the dry press of his lips to her forehead.

“Sleep now, and dream of me.”

I always do…

She dreamed of a spinning ballroom lit by thousands of floating candles in a mirrored hall. Masked couples surrounded them, beings and creatures, witches and wizards…

She dreamed of a familiar manor bedecked with cursed roses, and knew she was home…

Waking came slowly and all at once alone in the hospital wing.

Every muscle ached.

“You’re awake!”

She jerked, reaching for her coat pockets on instinct only to find herself dressed in a nightgown. Hermione turned her head and was shocked to find Luna’s happy pale gaze fixed upon her. Whatever weave the other witch was practicing evaporated in the air and then a pair of surprisingly strong arms snatched around her neck and drew Hermione close.

Disoriented and taking in the otherwise empty hospital wing, Hermione was slow to place her hand on Luna’s back. “How long?” her voice croaked, dry from disuse.

Luna pulled back, tucking her wand back in her lap as Hermione settled on her pillow. There was something in her gaze that Hermione did not like.

“How long,” Hermione persisted.

Luna swallowed and her brow furrowed as she whispered, “Two months…”

“Two months!” Hermione grasped her throat and tears sprung to her eyes as she whipped her head around the hospital wing, then froze as she took in the sheer volume of preserved flowers and cards on her bedside table. “Luna?”

Luna caught her hand and drew her focus back to her earnest gaze. “You exhausted yourself, Madame Pomfrey said, depleted your magical core. They kept you in stasis until you could fully recover, but nothing they tried was working. And… I’m so sorry, Hermione, but the school knows about your illness. They… they’re calling it a blood curse.”

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, her mind reeling with the ramifications of her worst fears coming to life. No doubt the Weasleys and their bloody friends were ecstatic. They would consider this magic’s way of punishing Hermione for her perceived sins.

Maybe they’re right.

~Keep reading at AO3

Now Available to read in KU! Forgotten gods haunt her steps, and the cursed prince she left behind isn’t done fighting for her soul. Vynasha is bound to the prince of Bitterhelm. Even if she were to die, her spirit will remain trapped with him in the castle forever. But she won’t give in to Grendel without a fight. With the aid of an oracle, a witchling, and the wolf that claims her heart,…

I can’t believe we’re a week away from the release of Bound Beauty, friends! It’s been a long journey for me, especially. Writing this series has been both a source of madness and a labor of love. I wasn’t sure exactly where the path would take me. I certainly wasn’t expecting to come to the point where I knew we needed a fourth book in this series. With any luck, Book 4 will prove to be far…

A war is about to begin between the forgotten people of Wylderland and the cruel might of Bitterhelm. Beings of prophecy and legend unite in the epic third chapter of the Wylder Tales Series, a romantic gothic re-telling of Beauty and the Beast.

🥀 WYLDER TALES 🥀 is a series of dark fairy tales, set in the past of the wider Borderlands Saga, and includes:

slow burn romantasy

forced proximity

enemies to lovers

found family

magical bonds

wicked witches

burly beasts

morally gray characters

Perhaps it was best that in the aftermath of Hermione’s gradual return to classes, the school tread most carefully around her. Few dared approach her, not with the constant shadow of her friends and occasionally one of the Bulgarian students or Draco’s Slytherins when her friends were unavailable.

Hermione no longer fought them in this, much to Draco’s surprised relief. Luna seemed far less worried than before, and spoke to her as though absolutely nothing had changed or was wrong, bless her. Theo kept his fears close to his chest, but the spoke loudly through his sapphire gaze. And it was with Theo that Hermione now spent most of her time.

No longer sneaking away to see Harry, no matter how often he tried to speak to her in the halls, or catch her attention through anonymous owl messages. She was breaking her promise to remain his friend, but it was far more painful now, far too painful. She no longer had the energy to climb the towers to their secret spots. She sent a single owl back to him after three weeks of this, saying:

I’m sorry. I just can’t anymore. I’m so behind and need to focus on classes. Rely on Neville or speak to Luna if you need the brains of a Ravenclaw on your side. They will be far better friends to you than I’ve ever been. Good luck, Harry.

Viktor was painfully kind to her the rare times they spoke after the letter, and kept to Dumstrang’s ship as much as possible for both their sakes.

It felt like Hermione had lost a limb.

They hadn’t even been together for that long! And yet she ached all the same.

Perhaps it was unfair of her, but Hermione had been avoiding Tom as well. His calls through the mirror went unanswered and his letters ignored, even if she read every one. Even if her soul ached and yearned to respond. Even if she needed him more than ever.

No matter his excuses, he had come to the ball and caused a scene, nearly exposing himself in the process to so many dangerous witches and wizards. He had brought bloody fae with him, for Merlin’s sake! And Hermione had pushed far too hard before and during the ball, just as Madame Pomfrey had said.

She needed to conserve her energy now. Classes and catch-up study sessions in the library, and meals when she could manage it. Padma brought her food on the days when Hermione hadn’t the strength for the Great Hall. Not because she was too weak, or at least, not only because. It was the whispers that caught her ears, the knowing smiles the Weasleys and their friends sent her way, Harry’s mooncalf eyes, and most of all, the troubled stare of Dumbledore every time she entered the hall.

The professors gave her far too much leeway with her classes, even if Theo swore she was caught up in the weeks leading up to the Third Task. “At least you don’t need to worry about O.W.L’s, Hermione. And besides, I know you read all the material to the end of the year before Yule.”

“Yes, but reading is different than knowing the material, Theodore,” Hermione hissed back.

Theo rolled his eyes but favored her with one of his rare genuine smiles as he rested his elbow against the library table. “As you wish. What else should we revise today, then?”

Hermione rubbed her temple as she stared at the books splayed before them, her latest assignment written and drying between them. “Can’t think of a bloody thing.”

Theo chuffed and his smile grew. “I can’t tell you how much I missed your language while you napped the semester away, Lady Black.”

“Oi!” Hermione shoved his shoulder and he pretended there was far greater force behind her effort. “I was not napping, you arse. I was ill.”

Theo’s smile dimmed but remained warm and most importantly, reached his eyes. “Keep telling everyone that and maybe the fools will believe it.”

“Vincent and Gregg,” Hermione mumbled under her breath.

Theo snorted and she shared a knowing grin with him. While Vincent Crabbe and Greggory Goyle were their friends by extension of Draco, it was no secret they were more brawn and heart than brains.

A familiar and comforting quiet fell between them as they held each other’s gaze. Neither of them were a Legillimens, thank Merlin, but ever since their shared blood ritual, they had often carried on silent conversations this way.

You okay?

I will be.

I’m here for you if you need, you know?

I know.

...Always.

Ever wonder what happened to Isabella after Braveheart?