Disclaimer: the entirety of my worldly possessions consists of a laptop, a phone, some clothes and a tonne of Harry Potter merchandise. Anything else you find me with belongs to the lovely JKR.
A TASTE OF LIBERTY
Chapter One
Hermione was having a good day. If her time at Hogwarts had taught her anything, it was that patience was a useful virtue, and could make for a pretty stress-free life if applied properly. Well, she corrected herself, as stress-free as my life could possibly be, considering that it's my life.
It was hard not to get too excited, though. After years of people trying and failing to finish it – almost thirty, if her memory was right, and it usually was – the Time Turner was almost completed. And by her, nonetheless! She knew it was something to be immensely proud of, but she was more amazed at the amount of insight she had gained into time manipulation than she was at the finished product.
She had always been fascinated with time, even before joining the Department of Mysteries.
Having a Time Turner would have been so handy at school. She had often imagined going back in time so she could be in two classes at once, or so she could study twice as hard. "Your thirst for intellect knows no bounds," her best friend Harry used to say in the snottiest voice he could manage, laughing their heads off, but they both knew it was true. She couldn't say it hadn't come in handy, though; it had landed her a well-paying, academically satisfying job, and it had been through her love of books and learning that she had met her husband.
The idea of time being something they could change, could move through as easily as wading through water, had blown her mind when she had first been told about the Time Turner. Humans were such insignificant little blips on the universe's radar, but magic was a strange and powerful thing, and while there were many aspects with heavy limits, there were also aspects with next to none. She had spent many nights at the Ministry at first, going through the notes of the previous attempts, looking for patterns, errors and irregularities. None of her predecessors had even managed to go backwards or forwards in time at all, so even if that was the only thing she managed to do, it would still be an incredible achievement.
She wasn't the top of her class and the brightest witch of her age for no reason, though, and she was determined to see it through.
No one had wanted to partner with her for the little project. It had been filed under 'ABANDONED' for ten years, after all, and had simply failed too many times in the past. When she had bravely sent in a request for it to Linda Cartwright, the head of the Department of Mysteries at the time, she had only been an Unspeakable for three weeks, and there had been many laughs at her expense. Albert Cabot, she remembered, had been particularly vicious, calling her 'incompetent' and a 'clumsy newbie, too eager to trip over her own feet.'
She wasn't married to a Slytherin for nothing, however, and he had taught her well. A Gryffindor throughout her Hogwarts years, her initial response would have been to be as loud and blatantly obvious about her skill and competence as she had been in school by taking up all the problematic projects usually reserved for older Unspeakables, but that approach lacked subtlety and would only have garnered resentment from her colleagues. She knew she was capable, but there were better ways to get what she wanted.
Instead, she had slowly but surely climbed the ladder, working diligently on the Time Turner project while partnering with well-esteemed Unspeakables for the difficult, but manageable, projects to gain experience. She became respected for her ability in magic and her quick thinking, and got her pleasure by cleverly showing up Albert Cabot in every way possible.
It was extremely gratifying to know that, when it was time for Cartwright to retire, it was a unanimous decision that Hermione would replace her instead of Cabot, who was the former favourite. He had ranted that she had gotten the job because of her personal connections and that a conflict of interest had taken place, but that was of course ridiculous; she would never use her husband's position as a means of improving her own. Cabot's face that day was a sight she would never forget, and her husband had given her an extremely pleasurable gift to show his pride. Her cheeks burned at the memory.
And now, she was almost finished with the first project she had ever undertaken, the most difficult of them all, and she was damn well pleased with herself. If she could only figure out a way to correlate the amount of turns of the hourglass with the time travelled, and then try it out and have it work, it would be finished and she would be able to explore other methods of time travel and manipulation. The excitement kept the colour in her cheeks, and as she went through her copious amounts of notes, looking for the method she had used to create and magically bind the hourglass, she hummed a little under her breath.
"Hermione!"
Her hand slipped, and she accidentally smashed the hourglass with her wand. "Dammit," she swore. She turned around to glare at the culprit. "Lupin, do you have any idea how long that took to make?"
Lupin looked sheepish, and Hermione mentally sighed. She couldn't find it in herself to be really mad at him, although that hourglass took three days of constantly surging magic into it at regular intervals, which was exhausting. He was new in the department, and his enthusiasm reminded her of herself at that age. She remembered wondering what a happy-go-lucky Hufflepuff would want to do in the Slytherin and Ravenclaw-infested Department of Mysteries - she had been told she could consider herself an honorary member of both – but his specialty was the Love Chamber, which explained it all.
"Sorry ma'am," he said, shifting a little uncomfortably. His reversion back to calling her 'ma'am' when she had specifically told him and everyone else that they were to call her 'Hermione' meant that she must have looked more irritated than she thought.
"Its fine, Lupin," she said exasperatedly. Tapping her wand on the mess, it instantly disappeared, leaving no trace of glass or sand. After it was all cleaned up, she turned to him, an expectant look on her face. "What was it you needed to tell me?"
"There's been an incident in the Death Chamber," he said quickly, running a hand through his blonde hair. "I don't know any specifics – Rookwood wouldn't tell me anything – but it has something to do with the Veil."
"The Veil?" she asked sharply, all ire forgotten. Lupin nodded. "What about the Veil?"
"I don't know any specifics," he repeated. "Rookwood just told me to get you."
This couldn't be good. She sent Lupin to alert the rest of the Unspeakables about a possible situation, before leaving the Time Room. If Rookwood was asking for her…that could only mean it was bad news. Rookwood was chummy with Cabot since they both worked in the Death Chamber, and he hated her because of her blood status.
The corridors of the department were empty and quiet as she made her way to the Death Chamber. That place was her least favourite part of the department, partly because she knew it would fascinate her husband to no end if he ever found out about it and partly because it was just plain creepy. The Veil was only one of many mysteries in there; no one knew where it had come from or what it did. They assumed that going through it would cause death, but no one had ever been close enough to find out.
When she arrived, the Death Chamber's Unspeakables – Rookwood, Cabot and Bode - were huddled around something, arguing.
"She fell out of the Veil! She must be dead!"
"She's clearly alive, Rookwood! She's breathing. And besides, a person can't be resurrected into as corporeal and human a body as this."
"Well, what other explanation do you have? Are you saying that she wasn't originally dead? That a perfectly living person just came through the Veil in the Death Chamber?"
"We can't rule out any possibilities, Rookwood." That was Bode. "She looks strange, though…there's something wrong with her. Maybe she's a Time Traveller."
"It would fit. Not to mention that she looks exactly like a younger version of our esteemed Head of-" Bode coughed, and when Cabot looked up, he noticed Hermione there. His mouth clicked shut.
"What's going on here?" Hermione asked. Now that she was closer, she realised that they were crowded around a girl.
She looked young – sixteen or seventeen years old at the most. Her skin was incredibly pale, as if she had been drained of blood, and her robes were torn. When Hermione pulled the robes back, she saw that cuts and gashes littered her body.
"She's bleeding!" she said, her eyes scanning the girl. Her breathing was soft and uneven, but it was there, which filled her with relief. "Why have none of you called a Healer?"
"No one aside from an Unspeakable may enter the Department," Cabot sneered. "I thought you, of all people, would know that."
"This is an exceptional case," Hermione said curtly. "Bode, go to St Mungos and ask for Healer Tonks." The tall, stringy man nodded and made off.
"You can't do that! It is against protocol-"
"Questioning the Head in an emergency is against protocol," Hermione snapped back. "I trust Healer Tonks to be completely confidential, and if need be, she will be put under Oath. Tell me what happened." As Cabot and Rookwood explained to her in as little words as possible how the Veil had begun to shake, without them doing anything, and how the girl had fallen out already unconscious, she went back to looking at the girl's injuries. Her leg was clearly broken, as was her left arm, there were multiple lacerations, bruises and grazes all over her body and a quick diagnosis spell showed internal bleeding. Her knowledge of Healing was limited, but after a half hour, she had closed up all the lacerations and cleared up the bruises.
"Healer Tonks has just arrived." Bode came rushing back.
"Hermione! What's going on?"
She stood up. "Thank Merlin you're here-"
Before she could even finish her sentence, the Healer's keen eyes had spotted the injured girl at her feet, and she rushed over. She didn't have to say a word as Tonks' Healing instincts kicked in, and she began casting spells, lighting up various parts of the girl's body. "Broken…internal bleeding…slight head trauma…"
With all of Tonks' attention on the girl, Hermione knew she would be safe, and she now turned her concentration to the situation at hand. She looked at the other Unspeakables. "The Aurors will need to be contacted to interrogate the girl once she has recovered."
"We should be the first to question her," Rookwood said, his voice gruff. "She came through our department, and it's our responsibility to find out how. We need her information for our studies on the Veil."
"You'll be allowed to question her," Hermione replied, "once the Aurors have been informed. We will do it before them."
"Hermione," Healer Tonks' voice called her. When Rookwood nodded curtly at her, she jogged back to the mysterious girl.
"How's she doing, Andromeda?" The girl certainly looked better after the Healer's ministrations. Her skin had returned to a normal colour, and instead of looking on the verge of death, she now looked merely to be sleeping.
"She's fine," Andromeda said. "I've fixed her all up, but…" She hesitated.
"What's wrong?"
"Her vitals…they're on the wrong side. Her heart is on her left." Andromeda's eyes were wide. "I've heard of it happening in Muggles, and them being able to live normal lives, but it's an exclusively Muggle disorder. Wizards or witches don't get it. It just doesn't happen."
Hermione frowned. "What are you saying?"
"Either she's a mutation," Andromeda said, "of which there is less than a 0.001% chance, or…well, I don't know. The whole thing is bizarre. I don't know what to think." Her voice lowered. "Did you notice how she looks almost exactly like you did in your sixth year?"
"Yes," Hermione said shortly. Now that she had been cleaned of all blood and looked healthy, it was hard not to recognise the familiar heart-shaped face, slope of the nose and freckles that she dearly hated. Her curiosity burned, but she had to be professional. "Can she be questioned?"
"Not until she wakes up, which won't be for a few hours, I think. Hermione, I want to move her to St Mungo's so I can watch over her-"
"Not possible. She cannot leave the Ministry." Hermione looked at her friend seriously. "Dromeda, you'll need to be put under an Unspeakable Oath. We can't risk anyone finding out that someone came out of the Veil until we know where she came from. She could be dangerous, and I think something strange is going on here. I know you wouldn't intentionally let it slip, but its protocol and-"
"Say no more," Andromeda said, shaking her head. "I'll do it."
If there was one thing Hermione loved about Andromeda, it was her understanding. "Thank you," she said gratefully. "Bode! Can you bind Healer Tonks' Oath?"
As Andromeda made her vow to Bode, Hermione stared at the girl, a deep crease between her brows. Who was she? Yes, the girl looked like her, but she also knew she had never looked that gaunt or that haunted in her life.
. : : : : : : : : : .
"You brought the Minister?" Rookwood hissed at her.
"Don't look at me, I didn't invite him," Hermione said, watching the Minister and the pack of Aurors from behind the glass window of the interrogation room. What was he doing there? She had only called for the Aurors, but… "He always knows what's happening in his Ministry."
She glanced at the only other occupant in the room. The girl was sitting on a conjured bed in the corner, staring at the newcomers. She had the look of a caged cat, but she was putting on a brave face, her lips pursed and her eyes hard. She seemed determined not to say anything, and she was very stubborn about it, a fact she had discovered when she and Rookwood had tried to question her when she woke up two hours ago.
She had been very un-cooperative. Hermione had given her a Calming Draught in advance, in the hopes of having a peaceful conversation with her once she woke, but it had been for naught. She seemed to be under the impression that they were trying to kill her, especially when she saw Rookwood, and she had jumped out of the bed, screaming. They had had to bind her and assure her that they were not, in fact, trying to kill her before she maintained any semblance of calm, and once that was done, she regarded them with suspicion and refused to answer any questions they asked. It was obvious that she was mentally unstable, and it was a good thing they had taken her wand from her already. Hermione had no doubt at all in her mind that the girl would kill them if she had a wand and they got too close to her.
Normal questioning had gotten them nowhere, and they decided they needed to get the Aurors – and some Veritaserum – involved.
The door to the interrogation room opened, and in entered the Minister, followed by Head Auror Scrimgeour and two other Aurors she didn't recognise.
"Alright, what's the situation here?" Scrimgeour asked.
When the Minister saw the girl, his eyes widened slightly and he quickly glanced at Hermione, who imperceptibly shook her head. She could tell he had a million questions running through his head already, but she had no answers for him. Instead, she tried to give him a small smile.
Rookwood quickly cast a charm so that the girl would not be able to hear them. "She came through the Veil," he answered. The Unbreakable Oath had been lifted for him and Hermione for a short period of time so that they could communicate to the Aurors the basics of the situation. "The Veil is located in the part of our department that deals with death. However, while we believe she is not a dead person returned from the grave, we also have no other alternative suggestions and she will not answer our questions."
Scrimgeour nodded swiftly at one of his Aurors, the short, stubby one with red hair, and he produced a small bottle of clear, colourless liquid that in any other context would have been mistaken for water.
"This should do the trick," he muttered. He countered Rookwood's charm and approached the girl, obviously trying to look friendly. "Hello, my dear. We would just like to ask you a couple of questions. It would be greatly appreciated if you responded with the utmost co-operation."
Hermione could tell by the clamped position of her jaw that she knew what the liquid was, and was not about to take it lying down. Scrimgeour could see that too, and with a quick 'Incarcerous', the girl was bound.
"Scrimgeour!" Hermione protested, as the girl gave an angry shout.
"It is standard procedure for dealing with un-cooperative criminals," Scrimgeour only said.
"We don't know that she's a criminal!"
"I will unbind her once she calms down," Scrimgeour said. He turned to the girl and said, in an annoyingly condescending voice, "Now, if you take some of this like a good girl, I will take the ropes off of you."
Hermione knew if it was her he was talking to, she would have punched the daylights out of him, but to her surprise, she slowly but willingly stuck out her tongue. Scrimgeour looked pleased, and dropped a couple of drops of the Veritaserum on it before screwing the cap and tucking it away. The ropes disappeared.
"Now, girl…what is your full name?"
There was a long pause before she said anything.
"I don't wish to answer," she said innocently. Hermione stared at her, and she knew the others could also not believe their ears. Her eyes were defiant as she stared up at the Head Auror, her face blank.
"Tell me your full name and birthdate," Scrimgeour tried again with a frown.
"I don't wish to answer." She had begun to smirk.
That was impossible. Veritaserum could only be averted in two ways – the antidote or Occlumency. Andromeda would have mentioned if she had something as questionable as Veritaserum antidote in her system, which meant it had to be the latter. The thing was, Occlumency was such a rare skill that she only knew of two people who were proficient at it, and one of them was her husband and the Minister of Magic. Even she couldn't do it. How was it that a girl, not even eighteen, knew how to do it and was good enough to be able to throw off Veritaserum?
She saw a flicker of interest light up in her husband's eyes, and he began to stare intently at the girl, watching her. When their eyes met, his face became incredibly focused, as if he were trying to read a book.
Her smirk dropped as quickly as a fly. "Stop trying to get in my head!" the girl suddenly screamed at the Minister, whose face was only able to betray the slightest shock before she had launched herself at him. The Aurors immediately raised their wands.
"Don't hurt her!" Hermione said quickly, stopping the Aurors in their tracks. Hurting her would only antagonise her even more than they had already, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
"Confundo," the Minister said quietly, pointing his wand at the girl. Immediately, her eyes glazed over and a look of bemusement crossed her face. Her arms dropped. Scrimgeour signalled for the Aurors to keep their wands on her.
"You could be arrested for trying to attack Minister Riddle, girl," Scrimgeour growled. "I suggest you keep your head unless you'd like to spend a few hours in an Auror's cell."
"Minister Riddle? Tom Riddle?" Her eyes snapped back to awareness. Her horrified whisper was barely audible, but Hermione was wondering how in the world the girl had cast off the Confundus so quickly.
"Yes, that's right-" Hermione started.
Before anyone could move, the girl grabbed the wand off of Head Auror Scrimgeour – a feat that should have been impossible, the man had an iron grip – pointed it at her husband and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"
A/N: This is the first and only chapter where 'Hermione' refers to Hermione Riddle from the AU. IN future chapters, the POV will be our own Hermione's, and this one will be known as Unspeakable Riddle, Hermione Riddle or something along those lines. Yes, I know this will get confusing very quickly, but please bear with me and I'll make it worth your while!
Also, I know this probably wasn't what you had in mind for Tomione. I don't plan to have a pairing for our own canon Hermione as I want to try something not romance-based (as if, but I can dream!), but if it happens, it happens. :)
I hope you enjoyed it, and would love you forever if you left a review!
- I.S.P.