Happy Friday, everyone!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I just like to play with the characters.
September 7th, 1977; Second Floor Girls' Lavatory, Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom; 6 PM.
Helena Dumbledore, that is to say Hermione Granger, had requested a few quiet moments stolen away in the girls' lavatory to calm her rapidly beating heart. To say that she was nervous was an understatement. She was terrified. She looked in the mirror and couldn't help but feel like an entirely different person. Tonight, she would go to dinner in the Great Hall, seated next to Professor – no not professor, Uncle Albus. She was to be sorted at the end of dinner, but wouldn't start attending classes until that Friday, as her parents Gabriel and Chameli Dumbledore were arranged to travel to the castle via international portkey to see that she was settled into the school safely. Of course, that was just the cover story; in reality, they were coming to perform an ancient blood rite to formally connect Hermione with their family and tribe. Come tomorrow evening, Hermione Granger would officially become Mamakiaeh Helena Dumbledore. The matter of her appearance and accent were already taken care by complicated charms and transfiguration spells. For the most part, she still looked like herself. Thanks to spending the past year on the run and mostly outside camping, her skin had already turned into a natural looking, glowing tan. Uncle Albus, using a powerful permanent sticking charm, insured that the tan would stay kissing her skin, never fading. A NEWT level hair growing charm left her with hair touching her tailbone, with a few longer curls coming to the middle of her bottom. The length of her hair reminded herself a lot of Luna's long blonde hair. She smiled sadly at the memory of the whimsical and airy witch. Hermione slowly twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. The starkest difference that she believed would take a while for her to get used to, even more than the American accent she now had thanks to an advanced permanent vocal chords transfiguration spell, was the black hair. Somehow, it looked even darker than Bellatrix's or Professor Snape's own locks. As a single tear fell off her face and onto her jumper, she realized she was crying. She looked down at the unfamiliar wand in her hand that Professor Dumbledore had given her. It was a wand made by Shikoba Wolfe, a wandmaker in North America who was of Chotaw descent. The wand was beautiful. It was made out of Maple wood, with intricately carved maple leaves up and down the surface. The core was a Thunderbird feather. Dumbledore had her try out the wand because he had received it as a gift from Wolfe herself during his travels in America a few decades back. Wolfe had given it to him, telling him that it was made specifically for a traveler who was on a great adventure, and Dumbledore believed she fit that description perfectly. It had worked fairly well for her inside his office, but she was sure it would take a bit of persuasion on her side to master the wand. Hermione tried out a charm that she saw often used in her dorm room by Lavender and Pavarti, casting a temporary spell to change her black hair to the nearly platinum hair of her friend's Luna hair. The sound of her tears alerted Moaning Myrtle of her presence, and before Hermione realized it, her and Myrtle were having a full on cry with each other. She was so caught up in her own misery she nearly slipped on wet floor when somebody came storming into the bathroom.
To say Hermione was in shock would be an understatement. She was petrified. Standing in front of her was none other than Professor Snape's younger self, his hair cut nearly all the way to his scalp, clutching in his hands what she could only presume was his own locks. The look of fury on his face was similar yet different. Less refined, but somehow still as intense.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" he grit out, fists tightening around the hair in his hands. With a flick of his wand, the floor was dry.
She coughed uncomfortably, forcing herself to pause before giving her answer as she felt Hermione getting ready to come out of her mouth. "Helena. Helena Dumbledore," she stuttered.
"I thought you were supposed to be native?" He questioned, gesturing at her hair.
Confused for a moment, she looked down to see what he was pointing to. Instantly, she felt heat flood her cheeks, her face burning with embarrassment. "Oh, I am sorry," she said quietly, swirling her wand above her head, quietly repeating the necessary enchantment; quickly, the blonde gave way to the darkness, the black settling in from her roots to the very tips of her hair. "You'll have to excuse me. I was throwing myself quite the pity party. My father and grandmother are blonde, and you see, I miss them quite terribly." She looked down at her feet shyly. "It's my first time being away from home," she said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. If there was one thing she knew for certain, Professor Snape, even as a teenager, was not dumb. Glancing up at him, she wasn't sure who looked more uncomfortable: herself or him.
He shuffled awkwardly on his feet before clearing his throat. "Uh, right. . ." he trailed off. He cleared his throat for a second time, even louder than before, surely attempting to take control of the situation. "Well, that is only to be expected. I am sure you will grow accustomed to the distance soon, Miss Dumbledore," he said, trying to sound sure of himself.
Hearing herself being referred to as a Dumbledore caused Hermione to grow even more uncomfortable, surprisingly, because she wasn't sure how that could have been possible. Unable to control herself, tears started to fall once more. Just over a week ago, she had to watch this man take his last breaths, and yet, here he stood in front of, alive as ever. She wondered if she was strong enough to go through with this. Perhaps, she could even convince her adopted parents to take her back to America with them, and she could wait out her time here there. She shook her head quickly, dismissing such foolish thoughts. Time had sent her back here because she must be here. Surely it wouldn't have done so if it did not believe her capable enough.
As for Severus Snape, he was staring at her as if she was wild animal on the loose. He held himself in a manner that screamed confidence, but the slight tick of his upper lip suggested otherwise. It was obvious to Hermione that he was at a complete loss on how to handle a crying woman. "Did I – did I say something wrong?" he said uncertainly.
Hermione let out an amused chuckle before lifting her hands to wipe her face of her tears.
"Wait," he commanded, procuring a handkerchief from his robe pocket, ever the Slytherin gentleman. He held it out to her welcomingly.
"Thank you," she sniffed. Gently, albeit awkwardly, she wiped the tears off her face and blew her nose. She held it back out for him silently, but was met by an amused look.
He placed his hand, the one not currently holding onto his own severed hair, on top of her outstretched one. "Keep it," he said with a smirk.
Hermione nodded her thanks before looking up to his near bald head, and down to the hair he was clenching in his fist. "What happened?"
His expression turned dark the moment her question fell from her lips. "Nothing of your concern," he said harshly.
Visibly, she reeled back. For a moment, Hermione had forgotten that she was talking to one of the cruelest men she had ever known. Severus Snape was cold and unforgiving. She made a mental note to not forget that again in the future, or rather, past. With a quick wave of his wand, he muttered the incantation to reverse the curse that was used to chop off his long hair. While he had yet to admit to who had done such a thing to him, Hermione was certain she didn't have to be told to know who had done it: James Potter, and quite possibly, Sirius Black. She found it unbelievable to think that Remus was around for the cruel prank, and even if Peter was there, she doubted he was the one to cast the curse, or come up with the idea to do so. Realizing he was looking at her expectedly, as if waiting for her reply, she muttered a near silent, "I'm sorry. I didn't catch that."
"I said, would like for me to escort you to the Great Hall for dinner, or would like to continue your pity party, Miss Dumbledore?" he questioned, not necessarily in a harsh tone, rather coming off as bored of their current conversation. Hermione pursed her lips at being referred to as Miss Dumbledore again. It was unsettling, and felt rather foreign. Seeing the look on her face, Severus raised his eyebrows at her. "You're not getting ready to cry again, are you?"
"No, I'm not," she said, then paused. "What did you say your name was?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Please excuse my ill manners. My name is Severus Snape. It is a pleasure to become acquainted with you, Miss Dumbledore," he said with perfect manners, holding out his hand for her to shake.
At the contact of their flesh, their magic connected, causing both of them to pull away quickly from the shock.
Hermione was the first to clear her throat. "Well, it is nice to meet you, Severus Snape," she said awkwardly. And then added as an afterthought, "I thank you for your manners, but I would really appreciate it if you would refrain from referring to me as Miss Dumbledore." She bit her lip in contemplation, trying to come up with a quick excuse to explain her request. "You see, it just reminds me how far away from home I truly am. We don't really bother with last names unless speaking to an elder of the tribe. Being addressed so formally is only making me more homesick."
Severus tried to hold her stare, but she quickly broke away, unsure if he had mastered legilimency yet. He was clearly feeling unsure of the situation, as the request to be on a first name basis with him was not one he often heard, even coming from his own housemates. "Okay," he said quietly. "I suppose if I will be addressing you with such a familiar term, I will grant you with my permission to call me Severus. But I must ask you to refrain from attempting to shorten my name. I am not fond of nicknames."
Hermione, or that is to say, Helena, couldn't help but feel a bit hurt at his demand. He had only ever granted one person to shorten his name, and she was the woman he had loved since childhood. She determined not to let it bother her, seeing as it really wasn't any of her business, and the request wasn't a ridiculous command. "Of course. Thank you, Severus. It is so nice to have a friend," she said, putting emphasis on the last word. She rather hoped that he would allow her to consider him as such, and that perhaps he would grow to consider her a friend as well.
"Let's not get carried away. . ." he drifted off quietly, unsure of her offer of friendship.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just, I really could use a friend," she said, determined to get him to accept her offer.
He cleared his throat and straightened his already rigid posture, once again trying to assert his dominance in the conversation. "Very well," he started stiffly. "I will be your. . . friend," he said as if he had an unpleasant taste in his mouth. "But I must warn you, I am not exactly the nicest person around, and I don't plan on changing that. I am known to hold impolite company, and I have many enemies."
"Thank you for your concern, but I believe I can hold my own."
"I don't doubt it, Miss Dumbledore – erm, Helena. But magic is different here. While you are still getting use to the precise magic that comes with wielding a wand, we have been accustomed to it for many years. If you, well if you find yourself in a situation, I will do my best to help you."
Hermione smiled gratefully at her new friend. Severus Snape was known for his loyalty to those who were loyal to him. She really couldn't have asked for a better first friend in this new time, aside from her new Uncle Albus. "Thank you," she said kindly.
Severus offered her his arm, and she looked at him questioningly. "Just take my arm, Helena. It is customary in polite company."
Hesitantly, she placed her hand in the crook of his arm. "I wasn't aware that the European wizarding world was still upholding Victorian practices." She knew that in just 20 years from now, to be on the arm of a man was considered a romantic gesture, but perhaps etiquette was different from then.
"Not everyone does; however, I do. And if you insist on being in my company, you will graciously allow me to do so. If I wish to offer you my arm, I will do so. If I wish to carry your books, I will do so. If I wish to escort you to classes or meals, I will do so. If I wish to open doors for you, or pull out your seat, I will do so. As I said, it is customary to do so in polite company."
"Ah so this is a Slytherin thing," Hermione thought to herself. "Very well, but I do not like to be coddled, Severus," she said, determined to make the point clear that he did not have to do such things for her. She could very well carry her own books, and open her own doors.
"Good, because I do many things, but I do not coddle, Helena." He took a few steps than paused. "Do you feel that?" he questioned, flexing his arm under the touch of her hand.
"Are you referring to the light buzz of our magic meeting under our skin?"
Severus nodded.
"I do," she said in affirmation.
"Interesting," Severus stated, before escorting her out of the lavatory, and down to the Great Hall.
September 7th, 1977; Great Hall, Hogwarts; 6:45 PM.
"Where will you be sitting, Helena?" Severus questioned quietly as he guided his new friend through the big, open doors of the Great Hall. He paused his strides, waiting for her answer.
"I believe next to my Uncle Albus," she whispered.
He felt her attempting to loosen her grip, but he held her hand in place by lifting his forearm higher to his chest, squeezing her hand to keep it in place in the crook of his arm. Severus noticed the empty chair next to Professor Dumbledore. "Very well," he said. He quickly escorted her to the front of the Great Hall, stopping in front of the Head Table. He swiftly bowed to her before giving a rigid bow to the Headmaster. With a straight back, he made his way to his house's table, as Helena quietly took her place beside Professor Dumbledore, exchanging soft words with him before being pulled into a conversation with Professor Slughorn. Taking his seat, Severus let out an amused chuckle seeing her face turn red, no doubt from a rather forward question from his own Head of House.
"Was that Professor Dumbledore's niece, Severus?" Narcissa Black asked quietly to his right.
He looked at the witch next to him. The young lady had been betrothed to his own good friend Lucius Malfoy since her first year at Hogwarts. Lucius was seventeen at the time, and as Severus was close to her in age, he had requested that he would look after his young fiancée during their time at Hogwarts. Eager to please, Severus had agreed quickly to the request. Severus and Narcissa had become fast friends. He escorted her to nearly all of her classes and meals, carried her books, and looked out for her overall wellbeing, sending Lucius updates twice a week.
"Yes, it was, Cissa," he confirmed.
"You seemed to be rather friendly with her. Have you met her before?" she questioned playfully, already knowing the answer to her question.
"Don't play stupid," he replied, scooping the last bit of potatoes onto his plate.
"She's very pretty," she stated, lifting her perfectly shaped eyebrows at her dark companion.
"Are you jealous?" he questioned sarcastically.
"Hardly," she scoffed. "I was merely pointing out the obvious, Severus."
"Her looks are not disagreeable."
"Was that a compliment?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Hardly," he scoffed sarcastically. His flicked his eyes to Helena before stealing a glance to the Gryffindor table, searching for a particular redheaded witch.
Narcissa followed his eyes. "Surely you aren't still hung up on the muggleborn?"
Severus quickly averted his eyes to his plate in front of him, stabbing his fork into a boiled potato. "No," he said bitterly.
"You are good liar, Severus Snape. But I know you. You don't fool me," she said knowingly.
"Well then, if you know so much about me, don't ask asinine questions," he bit out.
Narcissa rolled her eyes. "You wound me, Severus," she said sarcastically, dramatically grabbing her heart before leaning her head on his shoulder.
It was Severus' time to roll his eyes, and so he did as he gently shrugged her head off of his shoulder.
They ate in silence until Narcissa grabbed his arm tightly to get his attention. "Look, Dumbledore is standing up! I bet he is going to introduce his niece before sorting her. I wonder what house she'll be put in," she whispered excitably to him.
September 7th, 1977; Great Hall, Hogwarts; 7:15 PM.
Helena Dumbledore was grateful for her uncle's abrupt ending of her awful conversation with Professor Slughorn. She had been acquainted with him as Hermione Granger just two years back, and the time spent apart from the Potions professor had seemingly made her forget just how annoying he was. She supposed he would try to collect her again, especially now that she was Albus Dumbledore's niece, and native to a North American native tribe. Inwardly, she was debating on whether letting him put her on his shelf was such a good idea.
Thankfully, her thoughts were interrupted as Uncle Albus begun to speak.
"Hello, my young friends. As I am sure most of you have heard by now, we will be having a new student join our Newt level classes, my very own niece Helena Dumbledore. She was born and raised in a lovely magical native tribe from, what I have been assured is a great and beautiful state, Oklahoma. As you all are well aware, the magical native tribes of North America operate under the highest of secrecy, their traditions dating back almost farther than our own. I ask that you will respect their secrets and traditions, and refrain from bombarding Miss Dumbledore with relentless questions. I am sure she will share what can be shared if you respect her keeping what must be kept. She will begin classes with you this Friday," he paused and turned towards her, gesturing for her to meet him at the podium. He transfigured a wooden stool, and took the Sorting Hat off of the podium, waiting for her to be seated before placing it on her head.
"Ah, how peculiar Miss Dumbledore. . . Or should I say Miss Granger? Yes, I have sorted you before, but not in the past. I dare say that you are a time traveler, Helena Hermione Dumbledore Granger. . ." she squeezed her eyes shut, paranoid that someone would be able to overhear what the Sorting Hat was speaking to her inside her own head. "You are very brave, yes indeed. A Gryffindor in your past, yet my future. I do not think that will do for you this time around. These are dangerous, dark times we are living in, and you don't want to draw any more attention to yourself that you already have. Better be. . ." the Sorting Hat paused before yelling out, "RAVENCLAW!"
There was a polite applause all around the Great Hall. As Hermione walked down to her house table, she found herself searching for a pair of dark friendly eyes. For a moment, their eyes connected and Severus gave her a kind yet guarded smile; she smiled back, thankful to already have made a friend.
As she sat down, she was immediately pulled into conversation with an extremely handsome seventh year who introduced himself as none other than Gilderoy Lockhart. Hermione had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at his horrible attempts of showing off. Thankfully, dessert was a short affair, as Professor Dumbledore's speech and her sorting took up most of the time allotted for feasting on pudding. As the students were dismissed, Gilderoy Lockhart attempted to grab her arm under the guise of helping her to Ravenclaw tower. She tried repeatedly tried to politely get out of his grip, but he was either ignoring her or ignorant to the fact that she would have rather been in the company of anyone else besides him.
Mercifully, he was cut off just outside of the Great Hall by Severus, escorting what appeared to be the younger Mrs. Malfoy. "Helena, there you are. Surely you have not forgotten that I wished to introduce you to my friend, and show you around the castle before curfew?"
In confusion, Lockhart had loosened his grip, and Hermione took advantage of his lapse in strength by jerking her arm out of his fist. "Oh, I apologize," she said irritably, "I must have gotten swept away in all of the excitement." She fixed Lockhart with an angry glare.
"Yes, that does make sense. All is forgiven," Severus said, egging her anger on. Severus stared down his nose at the shorter boy. "You can go now," he commanded, rather than suggested.
It was obvious that Severus' anger wasn't affecting the arrogant Ravenclaw prefect. "Well as a fellow housemate to Helena, and a prefect, I believe it is my duty to see her to the tower," he said snidely.
Severus sneered. "Well as friend to Helena, AND a prefect myself, I believe I would like to introduce her to Miss Black, and show her around the castle," he said coolly. "Rest assured, I will see to it that she is safe in the tower by curfew. Now, if you are done peacocking, we will be on our way." He held out his arm not currently occupied by Narcissa, giving her a pointed look, all but commanding her to take it.
The silent command would have normally annoyed her, but she found herself only feeling grateful to get away from Lockhart's slimy hands.
Graciously, she took his arm, and offered a quiet, insincere apology to Lockhart. The three silently walked away from the dumbfounded Ravenclaw. As they bended a corner into an empty corridor, Severus pulled them to a halt.
"Thank you for saving me –" Hermione began.
"Yes, yes of course," he said, waving her off. "I believe I said that if I was going to be your friend, I would escort you around the castle if I wanted to. And I found myself wanting to when I saw you being dragged about by the dimwitted Lockhart." Severus rolled his eyes.
Hermione raised her eyebrows at his constant state of moodiness, but said nothing in reply.
"Now, let me introduce you to a friend of mine, Narcissa Black," he said.
Narcissa offered her hand to Hermione, and the two girls gently shook hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Dumbledore," Narcissa said.
"Oh please, call me Helena," Hermione said.
"Very well, but only if you will call me Cissa."
"Thank you, Cissa. I would very much like to be friends." Suddenly, Hermione felt rather unsure of herself.
Narcissa offered her a kind smile. "Any friend of Severus' is a friend of mine."
"Well, I will accept that for now. But I look forward to being your friend in my own right," Hermione said genuinely.
"I do as well," Narcissa agreed.
"If you ladies are done with your pleasantries, shall we get on with the tour?" Severus questioned politely, offering both of his arms to the ladies again.
"Actually, Severus. I don't mean to offend you, but I am rather tired. I wonder if you wouldn't just show me to the tower, so I can get some rest? We could reschedule the tour for another day?" Hermione questioned. She really was exhausted. The past week had been a whirlwind for her, and she found that she still got tired very easily. Madame Pompfrey had assured her that eventually she wouldn't tire so quickly.
"Very well. Perhaps tomorrow evening?" Severus questioned.
"Yes, tomorrow evening sounds perfect." Hermione looked over to Narcissa. "Will you join us as well?"
"Where Severus' goes, I go as well."
"Alright, let's get you to your common room," Severus said, leading the girls to the main staircases.
September 7th, 1977; Ravenclaw Tower, 7th Year Girls' Dormitory, Hogwarts; 9 PM.
Hermione climbed into bed with sore muscles and racing thoughts. In just a matter of a few hours, she had become friends with a soon to be deatheater and deatheater-wife. Did this mean that Professor Snape and Mrs. Malfoy remembered her from their seventh year? She reminded herself to do her best to not do anything embarrassing in front of either of them. Perhaps, if she made herself seem insignificant, it would cause them to remember her less. She contemplated for a moment if she should just try to avoid the two of them. But something about that didn't seem right. For all the uncertainty she felt in this time, she felt for certain she was to be their friend. Being with the two of them just felt right, like that was where she was supposed to be for now. Hermione closed her eyes. She really was quite tired.
