Chapter 3. New

Dumbledore paced his office, stopping every now and again, looking at his pocket watch, pausing and sighing, before returning to the anxious path he had repeated many times. Some of the portraits on the wall watched, their beady eyes swivelling back and forth as he walked, whereas others were whispering, leaning as far out of their paintings as possible, talking waspishly into the others ear, making a quiet buzz vibrate in the large room.

A knock on the door made the old, wizened man stop his relentless pacing and he turned to face it, calling out 'enter' to the waiting person. The door creaked don its hinges as it opened and professor McGonagall strode in, her lips pursed and her face pale.

'She's out again,' she said, almost whispering, as if she spoke to loud she might interrupt the now hushed silence.

Dumbledore sighed, his brow creasing

'Did she say anything?'

'No,' McGonagall replied'just a few babbled, disjointed sentences, something to do with Ron, harry and the library, mrs pomprey is having a hard time calming her '

Dumbledore sighed again

' I must go visit her, I still have no idea what to do' he walked out, waited for McGonagall to walk out and then left, his robes whirling out as the door slammed.

HHHHHH

Hermione opened her eyes, hoping, wishing that when she looked she'd be back home. Hoping so hard it hurt. And for a second, when the hospital wing swam into focus she thought she had gone back. Yet her renewed hope was squished as her eyes wondered over the almost-familiar room. She knew it was not the same as the room she had been in so many time before with Ron and harry and she felt tears come to her eyes. She needed to get out of here, and she knew it, the more people that saw her the more she changed the future.

As she got up she wobbled precariously, her legs felt like jelly beneath her. She toppled up to the door and opened it slowly, wincing as if it caused her physical pain when it creaked. Looking over her shoulder she slipped into the corridor, pulling her clothes closer to her as she ran down the empty halls. Round one corner, and another, down a flight of stairs forever checking behind her as she went, Hermione managed to get as far as the entrance hall when she heard the laughter.

The chuckling.

The babbling.

The chatter.

The sense of comfort.

All coming from the great hall. She couldn't help herself. Creeping towards the large doors, Hermione glanced behind her one more time and leant into the wood, putting an eye to the gap and gazing at the scene.

She could almost imagine she was back home, at her time. The ceiling was dark but lit with a thousand candles that floated magically, throwing a glow over the feasting students. They were the ones laughing, as well as the satisfied teachers on the top table. The large plates were pile with food, chicken, beef and pork, pie and bread, vegetables and fruit along with cranberry sauce and gravy. It made her mouth water; it made her think of home. It filled her with such longing that a tear trekked silently down her cheek and that's when she heard the voices.

They were whispering and when she turned she recognised the four boys that had found her all huddled up, plotting something, with mischievous grin on their young faces. And they saw her. They froze, she froze. And then she ran. Hermione sprinted across the empty hall towards the front doors, her hair trailing out behind her. The boys gave chase, three of them being faster than her almost catching her as she barged out of the door into the dark night. It was snowing outside, flakes settling in her hair as she stumbled through the knee high blanket of white. One boy lunged for her, the relaxed, handsome one called Sirius. He grabbed her shirt and it ripped, the noise echoing like a bullet through the night. She cried out and ran faster, tripping over in the snow. The second dark haired one also jumped to catch her, not quite grasping her but managing to knock her over. Hermione landed face first in the snow, but she tried to crawl away, spluttering, spitting snow from her mouth. The last boy was Remus and he watched her limp through the snow it was a pathetic sight. Her hair was dotted with white and her shirt was ripped down the back. Her front was covered in snow and she was shivering badly, sobbing and gasping for breath. She turned to look at the fallen boys and saw him. Her eyes widened again and she began to run away again.

Remus sighed, his eyes filled with remorse as he leapt, pouncing on her with a swiftness that was almost impossible to achieve. He landed on her back and they fell to the floor, rolling in the icy lumps. She tried to bash his hands away but he held her wrists. She struggled but he received the blows without showing it. She gave up and wet limp, her body racked with sobs and he lifted up in a fireman's lift and carried her towards the doors.