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 Two
Hermione was bored out of her mind. She had been waiting three hours, and hadn't spoken for the last two. She had tried everything in the book to alleviate the tedium – trying to fall asleep, counting the tiles in the ceiling, watching the two Aurors flinch every time she asked to go the bathroom – to no avail. Merlin, it was enough to drive a girl to Bellatrix-level insanity. Not that they didn't already think she was crazy.
"Is the Minister going to be back anytime soon?" she asked the Aurors impatiently. As expected, she got no reply.
They had been ordered to guard her until the Minister's return (with the explicit instructions: "Use any methods necessary to contain her if she tries to escape."), and as a result, their wands had been pointing in her direction since he had left. They kept shooting her wary glances, looking ready to apprehend her if she so much as twitched.
She had tried to tell them that they had nothing to worry about, that she wasn't going to try and murder any other prominent government members (or anyone else, for that matter), but that fleeting moment of irrationality when she had thrown an Unforgivable at their beloved Minister seemed to have permanently cemented her in their minds as on par with an Azkaban escapee. They had looked incredibly confused, anyway, when Minister Riddle had forced them to drop all charges against her.
And that was the reason she was here now, feeling like she was watching paint dry, instead of in an Auror's cell. She could only guess as to why. He must have seen something in her head when he had used Legilimency on her, because as soon as he had made sure that she was suitably handcuffed and detained, he had driven Scrimgeour and the two Unspeakables out of the room, mentioning something about 'needing to fetch a friend.'
She wondered what kind of a friend took three hours to get a hold of.
Half an hour after asking for the fifth time if she could go the bathroom (a request, of course, which was refused), she heard voices, and her head shot up. She looked out the large see-through wall of the Interrogation Room to see that the Minister had returned, along with a woman who hadn't been there during her interrogation. She breathed a loud sigh of relief at the same time as the two Aurors. For a brief, comic moment, they all looked at each other awkwardly, before the door slid open. Riddle and the woman entered.
"Bills, Stubbins, you're free to leave," Minister Riddle said. He looked very tired, but even then, he still managed to exude an aura of complete power and importance. It was an order posing as polite instruction, and while one of the Aurors looked like he wanted to stay, they both slunk out quietly.
Riddle walked over to Hermione, and looked at her as if she were some complicated puzzle he was trying to solve. "This is the friend I mentioned earlier. I believe she'll be able to shed some light on your… situation."
Hermione barely heard him; she was too busy staring at the woman, who Hermione guessed was the only person who could stand next to Tom Riddle and still be the most attention-grabbing (albeit unconsciously) individual in the room. Her side was turned towards her so she couldn't see her face, but her clothes were… the only word she could think of to describe them was 'interesting.' She was draped in bright, flamingo-pink robes, with earrings that looked (and croaked and hopped) like chocolate frogs. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a way that reminded Hermione of a beehive, and she had stuck a gardenia on top. She had only ever known one person to dress that eccentrically. In fact, she reminded her very much of –
"Luna," she breathed, shocked. Riddle's friend was Luna Lovegood.
The woman turned to look at her, and there was no mistaking the kind, slightly vacant grey eyes, vaguely elfish features or knowing grin. Her lips twisted into a bright smile. "Hermione. How nice to see you." At her name, Riddle's expression flickered.
Hermione got over her surprise quickly. "How do you-"
"You are Hermione Granger, right?" she said, sounding dreamy. "Born in 1979, a Gryffindor, best friends with Harry Potter?" Suddenly, Riddle coughed, and when Hermione looked at him, his expression was that of a man whose worst suspicions had been confirmed.
"Luna, how do you know that?" he asked. Hermione looked at Luna expectantly; she wanted an answer, too.
"No one ever believes me when I say I can see other universes," the blonde shrugged. "I've seen into your one, Hermione, quite a few times. That universe is very similar to our one, yet-" she glanced at the Minister, "-completely different." She came over to Hermione and took both of her hands, one in each of her own, pale ones. "You're no longer in your own universe, Hermione. I believe the term to describe this is 'alternate dimension' or 'parallel universe.'"
There was silence. She found it hard to speak; not because of the news, but because this Luna, now that she saw her up close, was not the young schoolgirl Hermione had been friends with, but a mature woman. She looked like she was in her late-twenties, and her face had the weathered look of someone who had been through battles but had still managed to maintain her innocence. Hermione stared and stared, until Luna blinked and she remembered herself.
"I know," she finally said, as calmly as she could manage. "I…I expected as much." She had had a lot of time to think, after all, waiting for them to come back. Still, it was a hard thing to digest when someone else confirmed it for her.
The signs had been everywhere. Tom Riddle as the Minister, Rookwood the Death Eater not trying to kill her, and for Merlin's sake, if the most telling sign wasn't that the Ministry actually seemed to be working in an incorrupt and effective manner, she didn't know what was. It spoke volumes that she had been able to tell the difference by the competence of their most important body of government, but then again, her Ministry had been headed by Fudge.
It was a hard reality to accept, but Hermione knew an alternate universe when it was practically waving its arse in her face, so to speak. She wasn't one to deny the obvious.
"I thought you would," Luna smiled. "In almost every universe I've seen, you're very clever. In this universe, you're the brightest witch of your age. Actually, I believe you've already met yourself."
That was new to her. "What?" Hermione cast her mind back to what had happened since waking up, but she didn't remember seeing herself. She thought she'd notice if she was meeting her doppelganger or counterpart or whatever. "When-?"
Before she could question Luna, Riddle said quickly, "So you confirm that she's not from here?" The blonde nodded, and he looked at Hermione, his brows furrowed. Hermione's mouth snapped shut. "This poses a problem. We need to get her back to her world as soon as possible, before they find out she's here." A significant look passed between the Minister and Luna.
"Yes," Luna mused, "I suppose they'd find a way to use her to rally support."
"Who are you talking about?" Hermione cut in, annoyed that she had no idea who they were talking about. Someone trying to use her to rally support didn't sound good; it sounded like something the Voldemort from her time would do, if given the opportunity to use someone who had jumped from another universe. She already had enough to deal with in her own world; she didn't want to be a target in this one, too.
"You were very distressed when you woke up," Riddle said to her, ignoring her question. "Why?"
"Only as distressed as the situation called for," she said defensively, remembering her maniacal behaviour. "The last thing I remembered before that was fighting in the Department of Mysteries, with Death Eaters trying to kill me." She had already decided that the Riddle of this dimension was to be trusted if Luna of all people trusted him, but she still surreptitiously glanced at him for any indication that the term was familiar. He only looked confused.
"What is a 'Death Eater'?"
"A supporter of Lord Voldemort, the powerful Dark wizard of her world," Luna said unconcernedly, just as Hermione was about to reply. "Lord Voldemort's true name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Riddle blanched. For the first time, he looked out of his element. Although there weren't many visible signs (from what she knew of the Tom Riddle from her world, he'd probably jump off of Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower before allowing his mouth to hang open in shock like a common Muggle), his eyes were suddenly less aware and darker, and he unconsciously ran a hand through his hair, which Hermione now noticed was a distinguished cut of thick salt-and-pepper.
"I was a Dark wizard where you come from," he repeated, staring at Hermione as if for validation. "Voldemort. 'Flight of Death.' That sounds remarkably like-"
"-our own problems here, yes," Luna said.
Riddle sounded so stunned that Hermione wondered just how different this world was from her own. From what she knew of alternate universes, it was the choices that people made which distinguished them from their counterparts in other dimensions, not the core personalities of the people themselves. Using that logic, this Tom Riddle was still brilliant and power-hungry – proven by his position as the Minister for Magic. What choice had he made that had caused his life to diverge so drastically from Lord Voldemort's, then?
"Granger!"
She was startled out of her thoughts by Riddle. "Uh, sorry?" she asked, blinking. "Did you say something?"
He seemed to have recovered from the shock of his counterpart's behaviour, and now looked irritated at Hermione's wandering mind. "I asked you to tell us, from the beginning, everything you remember. Leave nothing out." He said the last with such an air of finality that Hermione instinctively knew that trying to keep something from him would only cause her more trouble; not in the least because he was a Legilimens, and her Occlumency was not nearly good enough to keep Voldemort out. Tom Riddle, she corrected herself.
Luna was looking at her expectantly, and when she nodded, Hermione collected her thoughts and began to speak.
She told them how she and her friends, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna (here, Luna's counterpart's eyes began to sparkle) and Neville had snuck into the Department of Mysteries, intent on saving Harry's godfather who he had been getting visions about and who he believed Lord Voldemort was holding hostage. He had been holding him, or so they believed, in the Hall of Prophecy, but when they arrived, they realised they had been baited into a trap and that Sirius was not there at all. Instead, they were ambushed by Death Eaters. They had wanted Harry to retrieve the prophecy, because only the person a prophecy was made about could take it.
"Your Harry Potter had a prophecy made about him?" Riddle interrupted, his face curiously blank. Hermione nodded.
"It was about him and Voldemort." She was about to say more, before pausing. She knew he had said not to leave anything out, but something was telling her it wasn't a good time to say anything else about that particular topic. Luckily, Riddle only grimaced and gestured for her to continue.
She told how Harry had retrieved the prophecy, but was intent on keeping it out of Voldemort's hands. Battle ensued, with the Death Eaters trying to get the prophecy whilst killing her and her friends. Rather ironically, they had managed to run through the entirety of the Department of Mysteries to the Death Chamber. More Death Eaters arrived, and then the Order of the Phoenix came.
"Order of the Phoenix?" Luna asked.
"A group," Hermione explained, "dedicated to fighting Voldemort and trying to keep the casualties of the war at a minimum. Dumbledore created it." She saw Riddle's eyes harden at that. Interesting, she thought, filing away that little tid bit for later.
"Anyway," Hermione continued, coming to the end of her tale, "after the Order came, we started to regain our footing. I started a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange, but like a fool, I wasn't aware of where I was. She hit me with a spell, and the last thing I saw was the Veil. Then I woke up here," she finished.
She looked at her audience. They seemed to be having a silent conversation with each other, and Luna became more serious. Riddle's face was devoid of any emotion. Finally, after at least five minutes, he looked at Hermione.
"Luna has just informed me that there are…certain complications in regards to the Veil," Riddle started.
Hermione's heart sunk. She had a feeling she wouldn't like where this was going.
"The first and foremost is that the Veil, in all other circumstances that Luna has seen, is only active for a very short timeframe, and these small windows are few and very far in between."
"How far?" She was almost afraid to ask.
"Anywhere from twenty to fifty years," Luna said.
All hope of going home to help Harry defeat Voldemort was completely dashed.
"Which means you will be staying here for an extended period," Riddle said. "As such, there are certain distinctions between your world and our world that you will need to be aware of.
"Like your…Voldemort-" there was only the slightest pause before he said the name, "-we also have Dark wizards who seek to conquer death, and they would not hesitate to use you and then kill you once they catch wind of your existence here. I trust most of the people who know about you, but everyone else will be Obliviated. You cannot be let out of our sight until the Veil becomes active again."
"But that could be half a century away!" Hermione protested, enraged. "Are you saying that for the next fifty years, you're going to keep me under- under house arrest?"
"That is exactly what I am saying," Riddle said harshly. "They cannot be allowed to gain any sort of advantage. We have a war of our own, Granger, and we can't afford for your mistake to damage our chances. Lives are at stake here."
She forced herself to calm down. "Fine," she said grudgingly. She'd find a way to get out of it without hurting anyone later. "Where are you going to take me?"
"We'll have to introduce you to the inner Corps first," Luna said. "They'll be the ones tasked with protecting you from the MODs-"
"Sorry?" Mods? It was the first time she had heard the term since arriving here.
"The inner Corps," Luna repeated. "Like your Order of the Phoenix, the Corps is a group of people who oppose the Dark wizards of our time and try to keep them from hurting as many people as possible. The inner Corps are our most elite and trusted members-"
"No," Hermione said. "What are the MODs?"
Luna stopped mid-sentence and glanced at the Minister.
"They call themselves the Masters of Death," Riddle answered, the venom and hatred in his voice so similar to that of Voldemort's that for a second Hermione forgot where she was. "They're the Dark wizards we have to keep you away from. Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore."
. : : : : : : : : : .
"Stop fidgeting, dear," a friendly voice admonished her, and when she looked up, she saw a plump woman with red hair rushing about, an apron wrapped around her waist. Hermione flushed and dropped her hand from where it had been buried in her bush of hair, nervously tugging at the strands.
"Sorry, Mol-" She stopped herself in time to correct herself. "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley."
The Weasley matriarch chuckled. "Molly is fine, dear." She smiled at her fondly. "You remind me so much of Hermione. Our Hermione, I mean."
"Can you tell me about her?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly. She had been hearing so many mentions of thatHermione, but not anything about her.
Molly only smiled, slightly mischievously. It wasn't an expression Hermione was used to seeing on her, mainly because the woman she knew hated seeing that expression on her twin sons, Fred and George. "You'll meet her soon enough, dear." Humming slightly, she waved her wand, and levitated an egg carton towards her.
They were in the kitchen of the Weasley home, Hermione sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar and Molly rushing around, trying to cook dinner for twenty. Hermione found it hard to equate this house with 'the Burrow', which is what the Weasley woman called it, because it looked nothing like the Burrow back home. For one thing, the Weasleys of this time were quite financially well-off, owing to Arthur's high-ranking job at the Ministry, and their house was a big, beautiful thing in Ottery St Catchpole. None of the Weasley's children lived there anymore, which made Hermione wonder where exactly in the timeline she had landed, and the Corps used it mainly as their headquarters.
After her interrogation with Riddle and Luna, Riddle had decided to call a meeting of the Corps as soon as possible so that she could be more properly informed of the situation, and so she could meet those who were charged with keeping her safe. Luna had Apparated her to the Burrow, since Riddle had said he needed to 'fix things up in the Ministry'. Molly had already been briefed on the situation by the blonde, and had been the first Corps member charged with 'watching' – i.e. babysitting – her. She wouldn't have minded so much if the redhaired woman would actually tell her something, but Luna had told her not to reveal anything until Hermione was formally introduced in the meeting. Molly was good at keeping her word.
As Hermione finished the glass of water she had been given, Molly placed a plate of cookies in front of her. "They should be ready to introduce you soon," she said kindly, referring to the Corps meeting which had already started downstairs. "But I don't want you to get hungry. Eat up! You're much too thin."
Hermione sighed. She felt like she was being treated like a child, but it was hard to say no to Molly Weasley's triple choc-chip cookies.
She was worried about what would happen in the meeting. Aside from Riddle, Luna and Molly, she didn't know who would be there. She had tried to make guesses, but really, it was hard to decide who was and who wasn't the bad guy here. Riddle, after all, was the Minister for Magic, and was leading an organised fighting group against Dumbledore, of all people. How much crazier could this world get?
It was completely shocking to her that the benign, annoying-twinkle-in-his-eyes Dumbledore that she had known – that had been her best friend's mentor – had the capability of becoming a Dark wizard. And partnering with Grindelwald! For Merlin's sake, Dumbledore had been the one who had defeated him.
She wondered how many more surprises she'd be able to take before she had a coronary.
Hermione was just polishing off the plate of cookies when she heard footsteps behind her. "Molly, Minister Riddle's starting the meeting now."
"Oh, blast it!" Molly said. "Tell him I'll only be a minute. I'd like to finish dinner before the meeting ends."
"Alright. He told me to fetch the girl, though, and told me you would know where she is."
Indignant at being called 'the girl' and that she was to be 'fetched', Hermione spun around, ready to give whoever it was a piece of her mind. "Excuse me, but-" Her voice hitched in her throat. She froze in shock, and the offender stared back at her with wide brown eyes.
"Are you the girl the Minister was talking about?"
Hermione could only gape at him, and she would have been embarrassed if he wasn't doing the exact same thing.
"You look just like-"
"Lupin, go and take her to the meeting," Molly said gently.
"Lupin?" Hermione blurted out, finally finding her voice. "Remus?"
The young man, who looked like he had graduated only recently from Hogwarts, stared at her like she had just turned into a House Elf. "No, that's my father," he said slowly. "I'm Draco."
Dear Merlin. She'd only met four people from this world, and already she was done and ready to pack her backs and go home. She was sure that coronary was going to hit soon, because the boy staring at her looked the spitting image of Draco Malfoy.
A/N: Hope you liked it guys! Please read and review, and I'll love you forever!
- I.S.P
