A/N: La-dee-da-dee, I like to party…
Reset
Chapter 2: Reset Our Times
When Hermione began to see the tunnel of black shiver and quake, she was very aware that something had happened. What that something was, she was entirely unclear. But, there was something… wrong.
For one thing, she felt like she was in an expanse of shimmering black, absent of all and any life. Another was the fact that her ears felt, in essence, stuffed to the brim with cotton. She heard some type of noise though it sounding something like how to marshmellows would sound like in conversation (akin to the way all the adults sound in that humorous kid's show Charlie Brown). Lastly, Hermione had the distinct feeling that home was far, far away from where she was now.
Hermione sat in her pit of darkness a while longer until she realized something.
Her eyes were closed.
She knew it was a simple idea at heart, but she could tell her mind was behaving lethargically for some reason. Hermione began to open her eyes only to find her eyelids were incredibly heavy. In her logical mind, none of that made any sense, however, logic wasn't something one needed when suddenly their eyelids got heavy and immovable.
She tried again, straining in her mind, to open her eyes.
Hermione started to see spots of white light prickle in her vision and the noises started to become clearer and clearer.
"…blem…Hit…You…"
She was convinced she was getting somewhere so she tried harder and harder…
" 'Ermione…"
Hermione's eyes finally opened at the mention of her name. The voices became suddenly very clear and sharp.
"—You 'it her! So you take responsibility for this!" The first voice was distinctly female.
"Yeah, right! You caused her to get hit! You an' all you're foolin' around caused her to get knocked out! You owe her an apology, and here's your opportunity!" The male was oddly familiar from Hermione's view. He sported platinum blonde hair, much like the woman, and it was cropped short to his ears.
"I will not! You claim you know 'er! You take care of 'er!" French. The woman was French. That was the woman Hermione had taken the car for. Fleur... that whore.
"Oh, no you don't. I'm leavin'. I've got work to do. Good bloody luck." The man with the blonde hair turned to look at Hermione and nothing but silence passed in between. Hermione sat up slightly to identify, albeit a bit strained, the man.
"Malfoy?"
"Blimey. Well, hi Mudblood." Hermione gasped in pain as she tried to sit up further. "No, no. Stay put. You were hit hard, and Fleur here will be willing to help you." Malfoy smiled in his normally arrogant manner and Hermione started protesting before Fleur could.
"Wait. You can't leave me like this. She might kill me. C'mon. You owe me." Hermione pleaded weakly.
Malfoy sighed at Hermione. He ran a pallid hand through his hair and nodded.
"Alright. I'll check on your well being every now and then. But you stay here with her. I have to work. If we have to take shifts 'an all, that's fine. As long as she takes some damn responsibility around here." Malfoy dragged on his coat again snatching out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it quickly.
"Thanks." Hermione croaked weakly.
"Don't thank me. I owe you remember." Malfoy smiled crookedly, at Hermione but his expression soured when he looked at Fleur. "And you." He pointed his lit cigarette at Fleur, effectively flinging his ashes on the floor. "You call me if you don't know what you're doing. We don't need the world's greatest hero dead." Malfoy waved briefly before stepping out of Fleur's abode.
Instead of speaking to the tense looking Fleur, Hermione examined herself and was surprised:
Her arm was the only thing broken and casted luckily, however the rest of her body wasn't really faring well. Hermione's bruised stretched far along her scantily clothed body. Her ankle was starting to throb in pain and she could hardly move her torso without a stabbing pain shooting up her sides. Her head was idly pounding the more and more she thought about it.
As Hermione was observing, Fleur looked distressed and angry.
"You cannot stay 'ere." Came Fleur's steely voice. Hermione's jaw dropped in surprise before she scooted up cautiously.
"And why not? I saved your life!" Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously at Fleur, whose jaw was grinding in her own irritation.
"I did not ask to 'ave my life saved." Hermione looked exasperated with the comment.
"Of course you didn't. You really didn't have time to considering the damned car was rather close to your face before I got there. You were too busy running away from me to notice a damned on coming car, so thank God for me."
"Did you ever consider why I was running? Some crazy super star was chasing me if you didn't notice. I was being stalked!" Fleur's cheeks turned red in her ire, willing Hermione to leave.
"Stalked? Honestly! You have some fucked up type of amnesia or something if you think I was stalking you! I know you, Fleur. Much better than you know yourself, apparently!" Hermione, though wheezing angrily, was talking rather loudly for a person who had been hit by a car.
"Amnesia? 'Ow do you know me? I grew up in France and attended Beauxbatons like a regular witch and France and graduated without any type of trouble or excitement-"
"Wrong!" Hermione interrupted. "You came to Hogwarts, Fleur. Hogwarts. You competed in the Triwizard Tournament. You married Bill Weasley, the brother to my ex husband, Ronald Weasley." Again, Fleur had an incredibly vapid look on her face. Hermione was incredibly aggravated.
"You're insane." Fleur adverted her eyes and took off her brown coat, revealing a long string of scars down her arms. Hermione gasped.
"What in the bloody Hell is that?" Fleur glanced at her arm and shrugged nonchalantly.
"Old tattoo or scar… I don't remember which." Hermione's eyes bugged. That old "tattoo" or "scar" looked distinctly like some sort of animal had ravaged her arm meanly.
"How do you not remember getting a damn tattoo?" Fleur once again shrugged, her eyes darting away from Hermione. She was unsettled by the redness of the scar and the way her flesh bubbled around it. It wasn't fresh per say, given the darkened skin on the marking, but the skin looked raised and irritated all the same.
Fleur was close enough to touch, so Hermione reached out and touched the scar.
Fleur flinched and grabbed her head, shouting, "Stop Bill! Please! STOP! I'll never do it again!" Fleur backed up away from Hermione, while Hermione shouted for her to stop backing away, and looked panicked.
"Fleur please!" Fleur scampered away and fell silent. Her eyes shook before they returned to normal, albeit tired.
"I am tired." Fleur yawned and stretched and curled up and knocked out.
It was the strangest thing Hermione had seen. And she was going to get to the bottom of it.
