Chapter 2
As Hermione drew closer to the two men, she felt that same burning power flow into her, but instead of pain as before, she felt only a steady warmth.
"Just saved your miserable life and all of ours, as well, I hope," Hermione calmly informed Snape, ignoring his tone entirely.
Kneeling beside Sirius, Hermione reached a tentative hand out to touch his arm. She hadn't seen this man in nearly a year. The sight of him lying there, obviously alive, made her heart flutter and clench painfully. She already had done something right–she had given Harry back his godfather. Even if she didn't quite understand how or why.
With a gentle shake of his shoulder, Sirius groaned and then bolted upright. Eyes wide, he clenched his wand tightly in his hand, as though prepared to curse Bellatrix right then.
"Sirius! You're fine! Safe! For the moment, at least" Hermione said, trying to calm the trigger happy raven haired wizard. Sirius appeared to relax instantly at her voice and reassurance.
"Where am I? This is the Shrieking Shack. How did I get here? Why am I here? Where's Harry? Why are you covered in blood? Are you hurt? Where is Harry?! Is he hurt? Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?" Sirius fired off rapid questions in his confusion, although towards the end of his speech he was on his feet with his wand pointed at Snape.
Quick as a whip, Snape was on his feet, his own wand pointed at Sirius.
A split second later both wizards found themselves sans wand. Looking at each other and then towards Hermione, rage echoed on each face.
"You are grown men! Act like it! This is not the time! We have to get to Harry before he does something stupid." Hermione firmly said.
"As if Potter could ever be anything other than stupid," Snape drawled. Most likely trying to provoke the seething wizard in front of him. "Overconfident dunderhead seems to be a trademark of Gryffindor...much like yourselves." Snape sneered at both Hermione and Sirius
"Get bent, Snivellus!" Sirius sneered right back at Snape while giving him the two fingered salute.
"Oh, good one, Black." Snape drawled with a roll of his eyes. "You have certainly bruised my fragile feelings with your wittiness. Tell me... have you always been this pathetic, or did death cause you to lose what few of your brain cells remain? You should know, though, that I don't swing your way"
"You would be so lucky as to have me put a leg over! Teach you how it's done. I bet you're still a virgin! Unless of course you gave her no choice, I've heard about what happens at those revels. No bird in her right mind would let you put it on her. Oh, and I wouldn't talk about intelligence if I were you – after all I'm not the one with Lord Voldy-short's calling card seared into my flesh, now am I? You're nothing but a piece of shite coward, who couldn't get the girl, so he joined up with the Death Eaters to kill all those like her!"
Hermione raised her eyebrows at how fast this argument had taken such a serious, albeit ridiculous, turn.
Snape's face went from his normal mocking sneer to black as a thundercloud. "I am not a coward! I have never forced a woman, nor would I ever violate one!" Snape shouted as he lunged at Black, intent on causing the other man harm, even without his wand.
"Boys! I will put you both in body binds if you don't grow the fuck up!" With quick flick of Hermione's wand, a solid shield was erected between the two men.
She had once again regained the attention of the wizards, despite their intent on continuing their-life long rivalry. Their concentration so riveted on each other that they had clearly forgotten she was even in the room, let alone that there might be a war to fight.
Hermione stood there, exasperation written all over her face. Did men never grow out of being ridiculously childish? She noticed two very odd things at once. The first, that it appeared there was bright sunlight filtering into the Shack from the grimy windows, even though it had been twilight when she'd made her way to the ramshackle house. That was not nearly as disconcerting as the other odd occurrence taking place. The second was by far the most bizarre sight she had ever seen. Barring, of course, watching Harry and Ron change into Malfoy's dimwitted bodyguard duo, which she had not been watching between the cracks of the bathroom stall.
Sirius' and Severus' features and bodies were morphing at a quick rate. Years of stress and grief seemed to melt off both of them. Somehow, and she didn't know how, twenty or so years appeared to have been erased from their bodies and faces; they looked like they were nearly her own age! The clothing each wore, which had fit each one quite well, seemed a bit loose on their new forms. Neither frame filled out to the full potential of manhood, as they were just moments before.
Fear and suspicion gripped Hermione. Running on instinct, she switched the shield so that it might protect her against this new unknown.
"What is going on?!" Hermione shouted
"He started it!" Sirius defended.
"Hardly. It was you who pointed your wand at me first,." Snape was quick to point out.
Then they were back to snarling at each other. Except once they looked at each other, they fell silent and turned towards Hermione in question and panic.
"How should I know?! You know what? It doesn't matter! We have to get to Harry. Let's go."
With that Hermione stormed from the Shack, knowing somehow that the two wizards would follow. She did still have their wands, after all.
Once out of the tunnel, Hermione stopped short. It was a bright summer day, no remnants of battle lay in front of her. Turning in a circle, confusion and apprehension, made itself known in the cautiousness of her movements. The castle and grounds were immaculate. No destruction, no blood, just beautiful Hogwarts. With unease Hermione and her companions started towards the castle.
"Just in case." Hermione murmured to the wizards as she handed them back their wands.
As they neared, they noticed a semi-large gathering of witches and wizards in semi formal robes. It looked like a celebration of some sort was taking place.
"Padfoot! There you are! Come on, Dad and Mum want to get a picture of the four of us!" A dark, messy headed, bespeckled wizard shouted as he ran towards them.
Hermione's first thought was that Harry had finally cracked under the pressure. Mum and Dad, indeed. Her second thought was that was not Harry, although he most definitely looked like him.
That was James Potter, and this was certainly not May 1998.
With a sinking feeling, Hermione came to the conclusion that she really should've done a bit more research into that ritual to summon the Others. Either that, or she was the one who had finally cracked under the pressure.
A/N Please Read and Review. This is my first fic and I need love to keep it going :-)