Chapter Text
Balthazar took a sip from his Scotch as he watched the demon Crowley, known by the locals as Nathaniel Hagan, installing his new machine. Balthazar was doing a stint as a cupid as punishment for mouthing off to his superiors, but he wasn't going to go around shooting arrows into humans like a little cupid. No, he was going to let technology do it for him.
"Hagan, what is this?" Deputy Sam Winchester asked Crowley. They were standing near the base of the stairs, watching a machine about as tall as Sam being installed against the wall in Hagan's hotel and dance hall. It was back away from the stage, so as to not be in the way but it was new technology and sure to draw curious onlookers.
The machine had a booth-like appearance on the bottom, and on the top was the upper body of an animatron that was decorated to look like a witch inside a glass enclosure. On a tabletop in front of her were a row of tarot cards, like she was in the middle of a reading. The animatron itself was life-size and relatively lifelike. Her black hair was real human hair, her eyes glass and glossy brown. Her lips were painted a dainty red, as were her fingernails. On her head was a pointed witch's hat, and her dress was a high-necklined jacket one would see on modern fashion plates, things that hadn't made it quite so far as Independence yet.
"This is a Soulmate machine. It's similar to the Fortune Teller one they have in a hotel in Austin. You feed it a penny and it dispenses a card with a name on it, who's your purported soulmate. To set it up, we need to insert a large selection of cards with names on them. I've already included all the White Doves' names. Want to add yours?" Crowley figured most anyone who walked through the doors would want to be added just for the novelty of it.
"Are you sure adding the Doves' names is a good idea?"
"If anything, it'll increase their business."
Sam was nodding. "Yeah, I guess." After a pause he said, "Sure, add my name and my brother's name. Maybe someone will come along that will help my brother settle down."
"Ha! That rogue? I doubt that, but I'll see it done. Thank you for your donation."
If only the machine were created by a demon. Finding out one's soulmate could be a good transaction to sell one's soul unintentionally, but this new machine was created by a cupid. An angel, really, but an angel doing a cupid's job. Poorly. Crowley didn't think the machine was going to actually help connect lovers, much less soulmates. Still, he was the first to try it after they inserted all the cards. His came up blank.
Hermione and Harry were doing a cross-country sightseeing tour of America. Today's stop was a small, historic frontier town. It was meant to have the railroad come through, but it came in south of the town, and the town never boomed. The buildings were authentic from the 1850s, and it was just a cute, fun stop to get a glimpse of how a western frontier town looked. They even had re-enactors in costume around the place and a promising burlesque show scheduled later that night.
Right now, though, Hermione was looking at the antique Fortune Teller machine in the Hagan's Hotel lobby. Across the top were the words "Elspeth's Soulmate Finder." Elspeth was a well-painted animatron, a witchy figure complete with pointed hat. Hermione grinned at the stereotypes. What she found most exciting was that the machine was still operational. There was a small bowl of pennies next to the machine and a golden trash receptacle nearby for the discarded fortunes. She inserted the penny and watched the machine come to life. An interesting circus-like jingle with an out-of-tune note played, causing the song to sound dissonant and almost creepy. Elspeth's head came up, and her glass eyes stared straight ahead. Then her head turned a little, and the character looked like she was looking Hermione over, considering her worth. Elspeth looked down, and her right hand turned over, revealing a tarot card. The left hand moved to the right and pointed, like she was contemplating the meaning of the card. The left hand moved back, and the right turned to reveal the card to the viewer: the Lovers card, of course. The left hand moved back and forth over the array of tarot on the tabletop in front of her, like she was discussing the reading. Then the machine quieted down, and Elspeth's head leaned forward back into her original state. The booth part of the machine that hid all the mechanics dispensed a card that was about two inches across and less than an inch in height. The paper was a nice, thick card stock, not thin like Hermione was expecting. She anticipated a fortune reading related to finding love, but printed on the card was a name. Sam Winchester.
Well, it did sound like an old-fashioned frontier town name with a last name like that. She placed the card in the trash receptacle (maybe they reused the cards).
Harry came walking up to her when she moved away from the machine. "So? Did it tell you how to find love?"
"It gave me a name. I'm going to see if I can find it in the census documents they had in the Sheriff's office. I think I saw someone flipping through it when we did the tour of that building."
"Weird. I expected some sort of tarot reading fortune thing when I looked at it when you were still upstairs."
"Did it give you a name?"
"I didn't put in a penny. Wasn't interested in a love fortune," Harry said. He made a face at Hermione. She grinned but knew the reason he wasn't interested. He and Ginny had just broken up before he and Hermione had decided to do this road trip. Harry wanted to get married, but Ginny wanted to play Quidditch professionally a few more years first. Their plans didn't line up anymore since they all left Hogwarts.
That night, as Hermione was falling asleep in the hotel's best suite, something seemed to tickle her senses. It disturbed her enough that she needed to get up and walk around to alleviate the feeling. She put on a dressing gown and headed down stairs. There was a man standing behind the bar. He looked like the painting of Nathaniel Hagan at the top of the hotel and on the pamphlets advertising the place. He was drying at set of whiskey glasses and stacking them neatly on the bar top.
"What can I get for you, little lady?" he had a British accent where all the other re-enactors had spoken with American South accents. It pleased her ear to hear someone sound like home all the way out here.
Figuring a nightcap wouldn't hurt too much, Hermione said, "Bourbon, please."
He nodded and set his things aside to get a bottle of bourbon and pour her a finger's worth. "On the house for the bride-to-be."
"Sorry?" Hermione asked as she picked up the glass. She took a sip and felt the warmth of the drink down her esophagus and into her stomach.
"You're marrying Deputy Winchester tomorrow. I thought you might be having a bout of nerves."
Hermione thought it was odd that this man knew about the person she had researched that afternoon in the Sheriff's office, but maybe the machine was rigged and the name was always Sam Winchester. She decided to humor the fellow. He was dressed like the re-enactors. "No, I'm not nervous. Just couldn't sleep, I suppose."
He gave her a look that said he knew more than she did, but didn't comment further. "How are you liking Independence so far?"
"It's lovely, though a bit more primitive than I'm used to," she joked, thinking about the recreated but more sanitary outhouse she'd had to use earlier in the day. She'd only had to use it a few times so far, but she was already missing indoor plumbing.
The barman grinned with her. "I know what you mean." He picked up his cloth and continued to dry glasses while she finished sipping her bourbon. She set the glass on the bar top.
"Well, goodnight. Thank you for the nightcap."
"You're welcome, Miss Granger."
It didn't dawn on her until she was halfway up the stairs, but she had never told him her name.