To Find Peace: I
pairing: Seraphina x reader
a/n: it’s late, this hasn’t been proofread, but I wanted to put something up since I’ve been gone a while. But I’m working on getting the prompts done to the best of my ability, and I’ll (hopefully) be here more often in the coming months. Bear with me!
prompt: I’ve gotten quite a few prompts to do with time turners, British muggle-borns who are recent Hogwarts graduates, and soulmates. What I’m attempting to do is combine those prompts to create one, fluid piece that hopefully satisfies each individual request, if that makes sense.
It was a visceral pain, deep-rooted and primal, and it followed you everywhere you went. No, you told the healer, you don’t remember when it started, it just came one day and decided it was there to stay. It didn’t get worse, but it didn’t get better either. Just a dull, aching pain that permeated your skull, made its home inside every nook and cranny of your brain that throbbed relentlessly at all hours of the day.
“It’s probably just a head cold,” the doctor said, as if that weren’t the same thing you’d been told ten times over. So, you declined his potions, just as you’d done the last time. Because this wasn’t the common cold, it couldn’t be. It wasn’t such a familiar sensation, and yet it burned beneath your skin, like a force that couldn’t be reckoned with. It felt different; it felt like…it felt like the pain wasn’t your own.
It lead you to him, perhaps the only man who could give you any real answers. He spoke few words, his eyes tired and weary, but he did hand you a trinket, one that you’d seen only twice before but never used yourself. He told you to be careful, and with that, he smiled politely as he could and went with a wave.
It was rather cryptic advice, and it took days before you figured out just what to do with it. But the pain grew, and it spread as time wore on. Perhaps you didn’t quite know where you needed to go or what any of it meant, but you knew you couldn’t live the rest of your life wondering.
It didn’t work right the first time. Maybe the year was close but the place…it didn’t feel the same. So, you packed a bag, tried to explain to everybody why you needed this, and went on your way, travelling across oceans to places you’d never imagined. But it was America that made the most sense, and the East…yes, that was it. New York, to be precise. It’s vastness wasn’t ideal, perhaps, but it was…a start.
So let you fingers move without thinking, across the spheres, through time itself until your heart ached because you were so close. To what, exactly, you weren’t quite sure. But for a time, the pain dulled, and you swore you could feel her; yes her. It confused you to no end, the first time, and the second but by the third…
“What do you think you’re doing?” She came out of nowhere at the speed of light itself, hauling you into an alleyway where you nearly slipped on the wet gravel and would’ve been more than a bit bitter if…if the pain in your head hadn’t suddenly quelled…almost completely. “Do you know what you’ve just put in jeopardy if anyone saw you? I swear, if this escalates and they blame me…,” she trailed off, muttering something under her breath before straightening her back and looking you in the eyes. “Now, do you care to explain what you’re doing here? With…that?” She gestured to the bauble dangling from your neck.
“I-um—well-I,” you stammered, suddenly lost for words and set to make a fool of yourself, “I think I might have been looking for you if I’m not mistaken. And…well, you certainly didn’t make it easy.” And now she looked just about as dumbstruck as you felt, though still in a regal fashion that you thought was tremendously unfair. America, for all its unnecessary laws, it should’ve been written that no one could be this intimidatingly beautiful without…perhaps some kind of permit, you thought, smiling a little to yourself. “I’ve travelled a long way across both space and time to get here, you see.”
“I…so you’re trying to tell me you’ve come from the future?” She looked absolutely quizzical, perhaps even slightly stunned, but somehow still managed to hold herself like she was a god. “Because quite frankly, that’s a poor excuse for nearly breaching the Statute of Secrecy.”
“Are you…okay, please tell me you’re joking,” you laughed, more than a little bit confused and maybe even slightly entertained. But her face stayed still as stone, her features etched there, looking on with the utmost disapproval. “I doubt it would’ve escalated to anything so serious. It was hardly a split second in which anyone would’ve even seen that anything was out of place. No-maj’s aren’t so observant.”
“A time traveller should know that a split second is all it takes for something to be monumentally distorted,” she chided, though her demeanour softened slightly. “Who are you? Why were you looking for me, and more importantly, what do you want?” Well, she certainly didn’t beat around the bush.
“Well,…it’s a rather long story,” you chuckled, because it did feel a bit…trivial…in retrospect. “I’ve been having these headaches, you see, and after seeing every healer the modern day has to offer and coming up empty, a friend of mine suggested I search elsewhere. I thought perhaps someone was playing tricks on me but…that doesn’t seem to be the case, because here you are and for the first time in months…my body is entirely pain free. Except my arm, of course, which you surely bruised when you dragged me out of the street. Your grip is…impressive.” It was quite the story to tell, and perhaps a hard one to believe.
“So…you expect me to believe that we’re linked somehow, across…how many years?”
“Roughly a century, if I’m guessing the year correctly.” And you were, you thought, looking around at the old buildings, not quite worn with time just yet. Everything from the cars to street lamps looked brand new, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of what New York was promised to be so long ago.
“Right…,” she hummed, clearly suppressing an overwhelming urge to either scoff in disbelief or leave you there. “You expect me to believe that the two of us are somehow linked across nearly a hundred years, and that you ended up in this very street at this very time because of headaches that incompetent healers couldn’t find a cure for? That sounds…highly improbable.” And it was, incredibly improbable.
“It might be improbable, but it’s also the truth,” you said, a hopeful lilt to your voice that you decided was entirely uncharacteristic. “Haven’t you felt it? I swear you must have, because I most certainly did the second I landed myself in this place.” She seemed to consider that for a moment, staring pensively into the distance as if the stillness would provide her with any amount of clarity. “What’s your name? Can I at least know that before you send me back where I came from…?” The words came out softer this time, and you looked at her honestly for the first time since this absurd conversation began.
“It’s Seraphina. Seraphina Picquery, if you must know,” she huffed, though her voice lacked it’s previous edge, even if she tried to hide that fact. “And yours?”
“(y/n). And it’s-uh…it’s an honour to meet you.” And perhaps you went a little wide eyed, and got a little bit caught up in your thoughts as you realized just who she was and what the meant. “I’d like to…I’d like to come back, if you’ll let me,” you blurted out, before you could think clearly. “I mean, I’d like to get to know you. If I’m feeling your pain and you’re feeling mine…I think it would only be right.”
If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn she smiled, if just a moment. But it vanished just as quickly as it came, and she suddenly looked…dismayed, perhaps even conflicted.
“I don’t know if I can take a risk like that so close to the election…,” she admitted, biting her lip carefully. “I understand you may be feeling confused and you want answers, but I know as little as you do. I don’t think I’d be much help in the matter.” She shuffled, like she was embarrassed by her own uncertainty. “Besides, I…think you’d find I’m rather involved in my work. It doesn’t leave much time for socializing.” But even if there were excuses, there wasn’t a hint of denial. She knew there was something amiss just as much as you did, and yet…she seemed almost apprehensive.
“I promise, I won’t take up much of your time,” you assured her, hoping it would be enough. “And I certainly won’t get in the way of your work. History has a way of arranging itself as it will, you and I both know that. And my being here—even if it’s odd—well, that must be a fate…mustn’t it?”
“I don’t believe in fate,” she muttered, eyes pouring into yours like fountains, emptying themselves and letting you, for a moment, embody her. “But the sentiment is…persuasive.”
“Is that a yes? To my coming back?” Maybe you were grinning just a little bit too enthusiastically. But it didn’t feel…it didn’t feel like you’d just met her. In fact, it felt like you’d known her your whole life.
“I suppose, if you’re careful, I wouldn’t necessarily object to figuring out why we seem to have been put in this situation,” she hummed, any trace of ambivalence vanquished as her imposing veneer reemerged once more. “This is rather…unique. It would make sense to explore it.”
“Yes, I think it would,” you murmured, grinning plainly for unexplainable (or maybe not so unexplainable) reasons. “Well, in that case, I’ll leave you be—at least, for now.”
“Ah, yes, I…I suppose I do have things that need tending to.” And you imagined that she did. Many, important tasks that would keep her occupied for months to come, no doubt.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Seraphina Picquery,” you told her, because it was the truth, and nothing but the truth. “And I wish you the best of luck in the polls.” She smiled, a lighthearted but tight knit smile that would keep your head reeling for days to come. And you let your fingers move again, swirling between the golden arches until you once again stood amidst skyscrapers and flashing billboards that made your eyes hurt. Sure enough, the tedious pain returned, if only mildly.
No, your search for answers didn’t go quite as you’d planned. Perhaps the vastness of it wasn’t ideal, but it was…a start. It was surely a start.