Disclaimer: No matter how many Polyjuice Potions I take, I will never be JK Rowling. All characters belong to the queen herself.
Reviews would make my day, feel free to leave any comments/suggestions that your heart desires as we see where this fic goes together!
Worth It
Chapter 1: A Visit to the Past
"SILENCE!" A bellow echoed across the chambers as a dark figure swept into the classroom, its black robes swishing behind it with an audible swoosh.
The class, who had been nervously chattering to one another, suddenly went quiet, staring up at the pale face of their professor.
"Can anyone tell me what the final color of Draught of Peace should be?" He surveyed the room, sighing when he only saw one hand raised, its owner eagerly waving its hand as her arm strained upwards. "Anyone other than Miss Granger perhaps?" he asked snidely, looking disdainfully down at her. A different hand went up in the back corner of the classroom: "Yes Malfoy?"
"I believe a turquoise blue, Professor Snape," he answered, his lips curving up into a pleased grin at being chosen over the know-it-all Granger.
"Very good Malfoy, that is 10 points to Slytherin," Snape replied smoothly, surveying the scowling Hermione in the front of the classroom dismissively.
"Now if you will all turn to page 108 in your books, we can begin our study of…."
o-o-o-o-o-o
Hermione watched the scene in front of her, her lips rounded in a small o as she took in the sight before her from her position behind the classroom's backdoor. Thank god she had had the foresight to wear the invisibility cloak before using the time turner in front of the doors to the tunnels leading to Snape's chambers. God only knows what he would have said upon flinging his classroom door open to a slightly older version of the very Granger sitting in his classroom. Time had rounded out her curves and tamed her bushy locks just as war had hardened her, her jaw set and eyes steely. There would be no mistaking that she was a different, more mature Hermione and she shuddered to think what he would have done upon witnessing her.
Okay great now that I have almost fucked up the very fabric of time, she thought to herself ruefully, maybe I should go to the time I was supposed to and stop watching the nightmares of potion classes of the past. She took one last long look at the imposing figure of her former Potions master, reaching down to clasp the shimmering time turner around her neck – specially given to her by Dumbledore – and turn it more precisely a single year forward.
As the world turned hazy around her, she contemplated the use of this time turner of clearly enormous capabilities. Why this? Why am I using it for this? She questioned as the world focused into clarity for her once more and she found herself witnessing an altogether different sight –
Professor Slughorn was surveying the group of students, hard at work around their cauldrons. The noticeable scent of fresh cut grass, new parchment, and an as yet unidentified scent reached her nose. Amortentia, she thought, pleased that she had at last reached the correct time period. Class appeared to be ending, the students chattering to one another about their various degrees of success with their potions, as she slowly creaked the backdoor open and slunk into the dungeon's tunnels behind the classroom.
She paused at the door to Snape's chambers, taking in the sliver and green adornments that decorated the entrance. Alohomora, she whispered, tapping the doorknob. Instead of hearing the satisfying click of the door unlocking, as she expected, she was suddenly thrown backwards by a strong force, her body curving upwards in the air and bouncing off of the upper walls of the tunnel. She steeled herself as she fell back towards the ground with a painful thud, the world going black as the wind was knocked from her lungs.
When she came to, her head pounding like she had drunk several butterbeers too many the night before, she opened her eyes to a wand being pointed directly at her. By the thin, sallow form of a dead man. Well, a not yet dead man, her inner consciousness whispered, as she took in his furious countenance.
"Who are you?" he asked coldly, jabbing the wand closer to her face. Who am I? she wondered, confused by his apparent failure to recognize him. Her head throbbed with a renewed ferocity as she tried to figure out why he had not known who she was immediately.
"Uh sir, -Snape – Professor Snape…" she stammered, attempting to sit up and realizing she was clearly bound by some sort of hex. Her limbs felt locked into place as she craned her head trying to make out her surroundings. She was in some sort of small library, lying on what felt like a window seat. To her above right, a large circular window streamed sunlight into her still-adjusting eyes. In the background to her left, behind the wand and the angry figure holding it, she could vaguely make out a large mahogany bookcase filled with texts. Her perusal of her surroundings was cut short by another jab towards her, this one dangerously close to hitting her nose.
"WHO ARE YOU?" Snape demanded, the fury rising in his dark, usually inscrutable, orbs. "And why did you just attempt to break into my private chambers?" he questioned.
Of course, Hermione wanted to hit herself - and probably would have, had she not been immobile – of course he had charms protecting his private chambers. She was an idiot of the first-order. She gritted her teeth, steeling herself to respond to him in an at least semi-coherent manner this time around.
"I am Hermione Granger, who else do I look like? And I am here to save your life."