+feels guilty for starting up another story+ This is for when I get stuck on my sailor moon FF.
DISCLAIMER: I DONT FREAKING OWN HP!
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"Collo-" Hermione began. Her spell was cut off as two Death Eaters burst through the door she was attempting to seal. Both looked as though they had won. "IMPEDIMENTA!" The duo yelled.
Hermione, Neville, and Harry were all thrown off their feet, Neville over a desk and out of site, Harry into a stonewall, and Hermione smashed into a bookcase and a river of large, heavy books crashed around her.
The voice of a Death Eater broke Hermione from her daze. "WE'VE GOT HIM! IN AN OFF-"
"Silencio!" Hermione yelled, eyes narrowed. The mans' voice disappeared and he continued to open and close his mouth through the mask till his partner pushed him aside.
Harry's voice rang out, "Petrificus Totalus!" the second man's legs and arms snapped to his body and he fell face forward, unable to move.
Toffee eyes softened with pride. "Well done, Ha-" The silenced Death Eater made a sudden slash movement with his wand, which shot a streak of what appeared to be purple flames. It hit her straight across the chest. A tiny "Oh!" left her mouth as she fell to the ground, motionless.
The last thing she heard before her body disappeared from the Department of Mysteries was one of the two males yell her name…
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Dark lashes fluttered open as the wide-eyed girl took in her dark and dank surroundings. The empty cement walls looked hard and uninviting to the teen.
The only thing she could obtain from her surroundings was that the cold, wet, gray area was empty.
"Where am I?" Hermione croaked as she sat up, body aching from the recent battle. "The battle!" Hermione scrambled into a standing position, wand clutched in her pale hand.
Brown eyes suddenly dimmed as they caught sight of a tossed newspaper, a muggle one. Wand was shoved into her pocket. "World War II? That's fif-fifty years in the past…" Her jean-clad knees hit stone in a harsh reunion. "Their fighting for their lives and Im stuck in some sewer fifty years away." The thought slowly registered in her brain. "Bloody hell!" Her yell echoed in the stone tunnel.
"Im gone!" Tears filled eyes that swirled with emotions. The salty drops cascaded down her bright red cheeks and onto her blue jeans. "Their gone!" Sobs racked her small frame.
What Hermione wouldn't give to be back lecturing Ron about his work, helping fight alongside her best friends, and even Malfoy's snide comments.
That made her sobs turn to laughter, miss Malfoy's insults? She let that thought sink in.
'Yes' Hermione froze, 'I miss even that.' Tears began their flow once more.
"God, Im such a girl!" Hermione hiccupped as she wiped the tears from her face. A small laugh left her as she stood up. "No use crying over spilled milk after all." Hermione told herself, straitening her clothes.
"Dumbledore will help." She said walking from the musty surroundings into the crisp clean air of the cool night.
Wrapping her robe around her body as a particularly strong breeze made her shiver as she began her trek along the streets of London, stopping when she spotted a public lavatory which she ducked into and began reviewing her frazzled appearance. After all it wouldn't do the girl any good to be walking around looking like a right nutter
First she commenced to washing all the dirt, dust, and grime from her face and arms. Then her mass of curls became the next task. They were quickly soaked with water, strung out, then nimble fingers raked through the damp mess.
Hermione lifted a sleeve of her robe to her nose and her face twisted in dismay. It reeked of blood. Sighing she removed the black cloak and proceeded to scrub it clean. Laying out the damp cloth she sighed.
"I can't very well wear that around town, I'll catch my death before I even get close to Kings Cross." She mumbled, sitting on the hard tile ground.
"But I guess its better then going around smelling as though I just killed someone." Her insides contorted, what if she had caused someones death by disappearing?
"Oh god!" The brunette turned about face and rushed into a stall and proceeded to vomit.
Two hours passed and she forced her numb body to put on the icy robe and walk from the loo back on the street.
The small shops that lined the cement streets were still closed. She continued to walk up the road as her stomach began to complain about its emptiness. Sighing she continued to walk up till a small garden caught her tired eyes. Sneaking nervously over he garden she began to fill her robes with tomatoes, strawberries and other home grown items.
The sticky feeling of guilt made the bite of tomato hard to swallow.
Hermione Jane Granger was reduced to stealing from tomatoes. And to make matters worse, it started to rain. The soft pitter-patter slowly made Hermione duck under her damp school robes. Tears mingled with raindrops as the bushy haired brain sank into a depressive state.
"It can't get any worse." And as would be expected in a situation such as this it began to thunder and pour harder.
Hermione had no clue where to go. That was the honest truth. She was lost, cold, and hungry (she couldn't stomach another stolen food).
And the silver lining on her dark cloud was in the form of a seedy looking pub. Sighing she straightened up her cloak, buttoned it shut, tried to flatten her hair, wiped the tears from her face, calmed down, and entered the pub.
She quickly maneuvered her way to the bar. She could feel the mens eyes on her and she couldn't help but shiver. "Um, sir?" Hermione meekly mumbled to the bartender.
The large, beefy man turned to the small teenage girl with a questioning stare. "Yes?" He bit out.
"Do you know how to get to Kings Cross Station from here?" She practically whispered it to the man.
He looked her up with something like a mixture of pity and care. "I have a map somewhere back here. I'll circle it for you."
Hermione's shock must have shown on her face for the man smiled kindly. "Got a daughter 'bout your age." Hermione allowed herself a thankful grin. "How 'bout somethin' ter drink an eat? On the house." Brown and gold eyes lit up.
The man smiled and turned around. He returned with a pencil, a map, a mincemeat pie, and a mug of milk. "Here we go!" The gruff man said, placing the items in front of the witch.
Opening the map he began to talk as she ate, "Ye take this here road down ter this one, make a right, and continue till you come ter this here street and ye make another right. Then yell arrive at the station."
"Thank you very much sir!" Hermione told him, voice melded with a river of sincerity.
"No problem Missy. Now answer me this one question, what on Earth get in yer mind ter travel ter Kings Cross in the middle of the night? He asked.
She sighed. "I've got no other choice. Everyone else I know is gone. I need to find the last person who can help me." How true that statement was made her heart ache. "And even he might not be able to do anything." She whispered absentmindedly. The bartender pretended not to hear the last part.
"Good luck Missy, I believe ye'll need it." Hermione agreed with him, she would if she wanted to find a way back to her own time.
Or a miracle. Either way she doubted she'd find it in the bar. So she thanked the kindly man, grabbed the map, and left the safety of the rough looking shelter-providing pub.
She had already walked for thirty minutes till a thought struck her. 'I didn't even get his name!'
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TA DA!!
Reviews are very welcome.
Julieann