Thanks so much for the reviews :) I know this isn't the most original story out there, but I just love the idea and I had to write my own version, I'll try my best to make it as unique as possible.
"YOU BASTARD!" A bushy haired witch screamed, so much emotion packed into her voice. Tears were freely flowing down her distraught face as she stared with such hatred towards the death eater who had just made Harry disappear. She had know idea what spell what was used, the death eater did not say a word when he casted it. It was a unusual colored spell, a spell she had never seen before. At the moment, she had know idea whether he best friend, her partner in the war, her brother was dead or alive. Was he hurt? Is he dying at this very moment, hoping I can somehow find him and heal him? Hermione's brain was running a mile a minute. Besides her thoughts on Harry's condition, she was solely concentrating on how she was going to avenge Harry. She was the last man standing -err.. woman in this case- Neville's petrificus totalus body bind had yet to wear off, Luna was suffering from extreme nerve damage after being under the cruciatus curse for far to long. Hermione her self was not that hurt, only serious injury was the large gash running down her leg, one of the bloody death eaters had used a cutting hex on her. But she paid no mind to the bleeding gash, she could heal it later, brew a quick blood replenishing potion as well.
The last, remaining death eater sneered and let out a chilling, cold laugh. Hermione froze. How dare he? How dare he laugh! She lost control of her body, of her mind. She was blinded by rage, sorrow, and desperateness.
"CRUCIO!" She screamed, her voice was oddly high and it cracked on the last syllable. The death eater writhed on the ground, screaming, begging for mercy. Hermione stared at him, her concentration unwavering, a sadistic glint was shining brightly in her eyes, her lips slightly turned upwards in a tight, close lipped smile. "You have to mean it," she remembered Harry telling her one time when she had unsuccessfully cast the curse once before, several years ago. She thought she would never be able to produce such a horrendous spell, it just wasn't in her she had claimed. She knew Harry spoke from experience about that, after all, he learned that from one of the best crucio casters in history, Bellatrix Lestrange. After all the belief that she could never feel enough hatred to do such a spell, now here she was doing it with a passion that could rival Bellatrix herself. For the first time, she meant it. Neville watched with wide eyes. Hermione's hair was wild and unkept from camping in forest among forest, hunting down the last of Voldemort's followers. Dried blood was on her face, most of it not her own. For a moment, Neville was suddenly struck with the strange thought that as he watched Hermione oddly enjoying inflicting the curse, she almost resembled Bellatrix.
"Hermione," Neville's voice cracked, he could feel some movement coming back to him, just enough to lift his head off the damp ground. The one word seemed to have brought Hermione back to earth. She hesitated, her eyes glanced over at Neville. Pure shock was on her face, she couldn't believe what she was doing. I just used a unforgivable. The second her concentration wavered, the curse lost it's effect. The death eater stopped screaming, but he was still writhing on the ground, no doubt he too had suffered nerve damage, just like poor Luna.
"I-, I-" Hermione was at lost with words, she stuttered and her hands started to shake. She felt like curling up into a ball and crying. But of course, this was no place to do that. There was still one death eater remaining, barely alive, but he was still there nonetheless. They couldn't leave without him finished off.
"It's okay," Neville reassured her. Although it was unnerving to have seen her go into such a crazed state, he knew that she was still the same, know-it-all Hermione. The same Hermione who hated to break rules and loved to live by the facts. The same Hermione who hated Unforgivable Curses with a passion.
"Sectumsempra," Hermione muttered under her breath. The cutting hex launched itself from the tip of her wand straight toward the death eater's jugular. The man died instantly. Neville closed his eyes and felt feeling return to his body. His spell had worn off. He stood up and went over to Hermione, hugged her tight as she cried into his chest. He to felt tears of relief flooding down his cheeks. Their moment didn't last long. Neville and Hermione both rushed over towards Luna. Neville cradled the blonde girl's skinny beaten body to his frame tightly, holding her head lovingly. The twitching was nearly nonexistent now. Hermione casted a few healing charms, and gave the girl several potions, one of them being dreamless sleep. Once Luna was cared for and in much better condition, Hermione felt herself collapse to the ground.
It was over.
Harry was twitching in his sleep, memories haunting his worn out brain. Of course Poppy had know idea that he was nightmare prone, or else she would have given him dreamless sleep potion. Harry usually would have produced a silencing charm around his bed, but of course, that was the farthest thing from his mind when he went to sleep that night. After meeting his mother and Dumbledore who were supposed to be dead, his mind was rattled. He was trying to figure out what happened to him before he fell asleep. What was the spell that was used on him? What did it do to him? Was he in a different reality? Or was he just brought back into time? Wherever he was, he knew he had to be careful. If he had gone back in time, then he was in a huge mess. Meddling with time is a dangerous thing to do. If he were to pop up and announce himself as Harry Potter, when perhaps his parents weren't even married yet then what would that do to the future? What if he did something drastic and ended up dead, thus meaning the future was doomed to have Voldemort take over the world killing even more of Harry's friends.
He needed to find a way to get out of the past or this reality, wherever he was, and get back home as soon as possible. He had left his friends at the worst moment. Hermione, Neville, and Luna were stuck fighting the last of Voldemort's supporters. They needed him. Luna was in terrible shape when he was forced out of his time or reality and Neville was body binded, he had no way of defending himself. Hermione had a horrible gash on her thigh and he feared for her life as she faced the last death eater. What would he do with himself if she were to die? He was so dependent on her these days. She understood him better than anyone. Hermione knew what he needed, she knew how to fix him and she knew just what to say to get Harry thinking clearly. She knew how to handle his nightmares, she just knew him. Now without her, he was lost. He needed her, he needed Neville, and he needed Luna. They were a inseparable pair. Ever since Ron was murdered, Hermione was different. She loved Ron, he loved her. They had a beautiful relationship, a connection. Harry undoubtedly knew that the two would end up getting married once they were done with all the Voldemort/death eater shit.
Ron sacrificed himself to save Hermione's life. Not the whole blood protection sacrifice that Lily Potter did for her son, but a sacrifice nonetheless. They were doing another raid against a group of eluding death eaters. It was nightfall and quite foggy, making it hard to see. Hermione was giving her all in fighting against Draco Malfoy, the murder of Ginny Weasley, and soon to be murder of Ron Weasley. He threw Avada Kedavra towards Hermione, she froze up, as this was one of the first raids, so she was still considerably green when it came to the battle. Usually it was Harry doing all the dueling. She had closed her eyes and was bracing herself for the inevitable when she heard the all to familiar voice shout out and next thing she knew, the beloved body of Ron was at her feet. He jumped in front of the killing curse to save her life. Hermione just stared at the lifeless body at her feet, going into shock. Harry had jumped in at that point, tears streaming down his face from the loss of his best mate, and he crucio'd the crap out of Draco. Draco wasn't as lucky as the other death eaters, for he suffered a slow painful death. He suffered the same fate as Neville's parents. He was under the cruciatus curse for so long that he went mentally insane. It was then that Harry finally delivered the final blow. The green light from Harry's unforgivable curse lightened up the dark night around them. Hermione was madly clutching Ron's body, screaming and crying, not giving a care that she might have blown their cover and now every single person within a mile radius could have heard her desperate screams.
Ever since that day, Hermione and Harry both were different. Hermione was the most different, she was far to quiet at times and she preferred to curl up in a corner alone rather than reading a book by the fire. Harry became more ruthless towards his enemies, not thinking twice about using unforgivable curses and other dark magic. While he was still a wizard who supported the light, his magical energy was the tainted color of grey. He know longer cared about whether a spell was originated from light or dark magic. If it got rid of his enemy, then he was going to use it. The only times when the real Harry and Hermione would pop out of their hallow shells was when they were around each other.
Neville and Luna were very accustomed to Harry's vivid nightmares. Every night he would wake up screaming, sweaty, and feverish. He always relived the most horrible moments of his life, and sometimes, in the worser nightmares, he would relive Voldemort's memories. Despite the silencing charms on Harry's bed, Hermione always knew when Harry was having a nightmare. She would get up numbly and make a warm cup of tea, wake him from his sleep as gently as she could, and then she would silently give him the warm tea mixed with a bit of throat healing potion and they would sit in silence with one another, drawing strength from each other. After he finished his tea, Hermione would pick up his cup, take them over the sink and would tiredly go back to her own bed and fall back into sleep. Even Harry would go back to sleep, finding his dreams far less disturbing.
This was one of those nights where Harry was having a nightmare. Although instead of the usual murder of his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, or the murder of Sirius Black, or his many horrible visits with Voldemort, this one was of his mother. After seeing her alive for the first time, it had re-sparked a certain memory in the dark haired wizard. It was Lily Potter's death. It was then that Harry started screaming in his sleep. High, throat bleeding screams that seemed to almost reach right into you and touch your soul.
Dumbledore did not want to leave the young man unsupervised in the night. He was still unsure as to whether James Black was good or bad. So, he had several people take shifts in the night. It was Severus Snape who was on watching duty at the time the young man started his nightmares. Snape was the first to awake from the screams, he was in the bed directly across from the raven haired wizard. Severus flung out of bed with reflexes from all his years as being a death eater. He had his wand drawn out and he was ready to fight. Only, there was no one there. Only the writhing, screaming form of the mysterious boy.
"A nightmare," Snape muttered dryly, extremely annoyed that he was awoken so harshly from his sleep. Before he casted the ennervate spell, he felt himself tempted to look into the boy's mind. Deciding there was no harm in doing so, he probed his way into the boy's mind. At first, he was resisted by a moderately strong mental shield. Occlumency Snape though with a sneer. Where did the boy learn that? Sending a stronger wave towards the boy's mind, he finally broke through.
The room was dark, the only source of light came from the window where the moon seemed to almost shine a spotlight on a crib that was in the corner of the room. It was eerily quiet, only the soft, gentle whispers of the mother was heard as she grasped with white knuckles, the bars on the crib, staring directly into the eyes of a boy that looked to be a year old. He to was holding onto the crib bars, using them as supports so he could stand up. His attention was unwavering, his expression slightly confused, but calm. He was staring into the face of his mother. The woman was kneeling, she had a small frame, with wavy red hair.
"You are so loved," she whispered, her love for her child was oozing through her words. "So loved," Her voice was soothing and beautiful. "Momma loves you," her melodic voice paused, a creak was heard from the stair case. "Dada loves you," her voice broke slightly, it was now visible that she was trying her absolute best to keep control of her emotions. A single tear was streaming down her face. It was odd, because it appeared to be that she was just cooing to her child as a nightly ritual to get him to fall asleep. But now, it was starting to look like something so, so much more.
"Be safe, be strong." She reached a few fingers between the crib bars and gently stroked the tear stained cheeks of the year old child, the boy closed his eyes and leaned into the gentle touch. It was at that beautiful moment when a shadow was thrown across the crib, a tall man was standing in the door way.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" The bright green light was bright and powerful, it zoomed towards the crib and without even a second thought or a moment's hesitation, the mother of the child jumped to her feet and took curse straight to her chest. Her loud scream echoed in the room and her body fell to the floor, dead.
The room seemed to blur and spin and a echoing voice was weeping.
"You, you said- you said you would keep her safe- you said-" The voice was marred with hurt, it was pitiful. Another voice began to speak up, and as it did, the nursery room was getting fainter and another room was becoming clearer.
Snape didn't have a chance to find out what was happened next, as he was hurled across the room and was sporting a splitting headache. Apparently the young man in the infirmary bed awoke and discovered that someone was prying into his mind, because he sent a massive and painful occlumency wave towards Snape, sufficiently kicking him out of the raven haired wizard's mind. Before Snape could recollect himself, he felt a wand pointing into his neck.
"I don't like people getting inside my head," a hoarse voice -no doubt from the screaming- threatened. Severus looked up into the startling familiar green eyes of Lily Potter, but instead of the angelic face, it was a boyish face of a young man with short black, messy hair and a peculiar lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.
"No need for such hostilities," Snape articulated every syllable slowly, his voice almost hissing. James Black's vibrant green eyes narrowed into a glare.
"I quite agree with him," Another voice broke in, this one belonging to Albus Dumbledore. James looked up and his eyes widened for a moment, shocked to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway. Another wave of shock hit him when he realized that Severus Snape laid on the ground below him. Am I going insane? Seeing dead people? Then he remembered that he was in a unknown timeline and possibly a unknown reality. Stiffly, he dropped his wand away from Snape's throat.
"There you go," Dumbledore smiled in a grandfatherly way, "now, would you mind explaining to me what happened?" He raised a curious eyebrow towards Snape.
"He was in my head," Harry -James- supplied with a slight growl. "I don't take it well when people do that to me."
"I see," Albus hid back his curiosity as to how this young man knew that Snape was in his mind. "And the screaming?"
Harry kicked himself mentally. Of course everyone heard his screams, his throat was throbbing and raw and he had never got the chance to put silencing charms around his bed.
"Nightmare," Harry mumbled looking down, really wishing that Madame Pomfrey was here to give him a throat healing potion. More than anything, he was wishing that he had Hermione hear to do their nightly ritual. That had always made him feel better after a nightmare.
"And would you mind telling us about it?"
"Yes," Harry said firmly. "I would mind quite a bit, seeing as it was a personal memory. But of course, Severus here doesn't really have any respect for anything that's personal." Harry said a bit harshly, sending a quick glare over at the greasy haired man.
"Ah, James, I'm sure you can see this from his perspective. He was just wanting to help, and the best way to do that is to have a understanding of the dream." Albus informed, making a mental note to ask James how he knew Snape's name later.
"If you would excuse me Headmaster, but I would like to give him some throat healing potions, I bet he has quite the sore throat right now," Poppy said, her eyes gazing over the potions on the shelves, looking for the right one. "I believe this confrontation can be held at another time, my patient needs some rest." With that, Poppy began to shoo Dumbledore and Snape out of the infirmary, much to their dislike.
"Here you go dear," Poppy held out a cup that held a mixture of several potions towards Harry. Harry gave her a weak smile. Thank Merlin for Poppy, He thought happily as he downed the nasty tasting potions in a couple quick gulps. Almost immediately he felt his throat feel better.
"He's not to be trusted," Snape informed soon as he and the headmaster were away from prying ears. They were in Dumbledore's office.
"Now Severus, we hardly know him," Albus admonished, studying Snape's face. Snape, knowing Dumbledore well, knew what Dumbledore really wanted. Take out his wand, the potions master aimed it towards his temple and a thin, silvery string came out. Slowly, he put it in the pensieve. Albus watched with twinkling eyes. He dipped his head in and watched the nightmare unfold in front of his eyes.
He lifted his head out of the memory and looked over at Snape. "It seems James Black's mother was murdered by Lord Voldemort... But not was she just murdered, she sacrificed herself for him." Albus's brain started to turn, mulling through the scene he had just witnessed.
"Somehow, Jame's escaped." Dumbledore said the most confusing part of the memory.
"Someone does just just escape from the Dark Lord if he wants to kill you!" Severus snapped. "Especially a baby!"
"Perhaps," Dumbledore began, "Voldemort did not want to kill James." His old, blue eyes scrutinized Snape's reaction.
"Are you implying-?" Severus visibly paled. If Voldemort didn't kill the child, then that would mean this boy was a exceptional wizard. The Dark Lord saw him as a threat but instead of murdering him, he decided to raise the child himself. To turn his greatest threat into his greatest ally. That would mean, James Black was a highly trained, incredibly powerful dark wizard with Voldemort like intentions who was currently in the Hogwarts castle, in the infirmary.
"Yes, that is exactly what I am implying. Severus, I want you to keep your eye on him. Watch your back and alert the rest of the staff." Dumbledore for the first time since Snape has known him, sounded scared and unsure.
"What are we going to do with him?"
"Leave it be. Pretend we know nothing. I want you to learn his weaknesses and strengths," Dumbledore slumped into his charge behind his desk, he stared at the desk surface deeply in thought. Snape saw this as the end of the conversation.