"Hermione! Wake up! Hermione!"
She sat up with a gasp. She was covered in a cold sweat and could taste the salt of tears tears on her lips. Septima's hand rested gently on her shoulder. It was still dark outside. Hermione struggled to control her breathing. It was just a dream. She was safe. Just a dream. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just a dream.
Hermione looked to her professor pleadingly, "Could I perhaps trouble you for some dreamless sleep?"
Septima looked regretful, "Hermione we have been giving you an almost constant low dose of dreamless sleep potion for the past two weeks since you began to drift in and out of consciousness. Now that you are stronger we want to begin to wean you off of it..."
This was going to be fun Hermione thought ruefully.
"The dose was only enough to take the edge off the nightmares so your withdrawal symptoms should be mild..."
Hermione ran through the symptoms of dreamless sleep withdrawal- loss of appetite, anxiety, sense of detachment, impulsive behavior, nausea... and the obvious nightmares and concurrent insomnia.
Septima cast a tempus charm, the clock read 1:22AM, "The good news though is that since the dreamless sleep has apparently been metabolized by your magic we can give you something stronger for the pain and muscle repair," the professor handed Hermione a vial of a purple potion that had the consistency of warm honey. Hermione tipped the vial back . It tasted vile but the aftertaste wasn't entirely unpleasant- vaguely like rosemary.
"You should begin to feel stronger in the next hour, if you are up for it, a walk outside may make it easier to sleep."
Hermione's mood brightened at Septima's offer, anything that prevented her from being alone with her nightmares was a brilliant idea in Hermione's book. Hermione replied with a smile, "Thank you for the potion, I've missed Hogwarts and would love to see the grounds again."
Septima's answering smile gave Hermione the impression Septima understood Hermione's desire for dreamless sleep all too well.
"Wait here while I retrieve cloaks for the both of us." Septima paused and looked at the infirmary slippers Hermione had laid at the food of the bed and transfigured them into a pair of leather riding boots.
"Actually my bag is expandable, I have a cloak of my own," Hermione said nodding to the purple beaded bag she had cast an undetectable extension charm on two summers ago.
Septima inclined her head, "Very well, I will be back in a moment."
Hermione, lacking her magic, was unable to accio her cloak from the depths of her extended bag so she was still rifling around in the magically extended bag when Septima returned. Frustrated Hermione willed her magic to find the jacket and was surprised when, instead of her magic pulling her cloak to her hand, her arm was twisted back, quite painfully. After the initial shock of her body moving of it's own accord, and the pain of the unnatural angle, Hermione felt the familiar cloth of her cloak. Hermione gingerly placed the cloak around her shoulders rubbing her sore arm and noticed Septima's calculating gaze, "I thought you were unable to perform wandless magic?"
Hermione paused. There wasn't a spell that she knew off that would move the caster to the object... "That was accidental magic," Hermione stated balefully. Septima didn't seem hear her statement, "Humor me and try to cast a wandless glamour?"
Hermione highly doubted she could cast a wandless glamour but she tried anyway. Septima's lips twitched into a grin and the professor conjured a mirror and held it so Hermione could see her own reflection. Her hair was now neon blue with gold streaks.
Hermione reached out to touch her hair, "How is that possible?"
Septima was quiet for a moment, "It is just a theory but... your magic is diffuse throughout your body and it is quite possible that while you are not able to direct your magic in the same way... you could when it was centered around your core... You may still be able to access your magic in the sense that whereas most witches and wizards have a body with a magical core they can project in focused projections, your body itself is magical...similar to a metatphorphagus in the sense..."
Hermione realized Septima was no longer talking to her as she watched the professor walk out of the guest room, into her office, still muttering to herself. The professor ran her fingers along the spines of books in the bookshelf pulling a small notebook off the shelf, flipping through the pages, closing the book, replacing it and repeating the process with three more before she apparently found the passage she was looking for. Hermione could hear Septima scribble something onto a slip of parchment.
Septima looked vaugley apologetic, "Sorry about that, I had to cross reference a couple ideas but I think that we may want to postpone our midnight stroll while we test the nature of your magic."
Hermione had changed the color, length and shape of her hair and eyes while she listened to Septima. She changed her nose to a beak like she had seen tonks do once upon another time.
Septima smiled indulgently, "Quite impressive Hermione."
Hermione quickly returned her features to their normal appearance.
"Whereas the magic of normal witches and wizards remains within a central core unless provoked by intense emotion or directed with the focus of a wand or strong intent, a metamorphagus's magic sometimes escapes their core in bursts, like a lightening strike, and causes unusual physical changes as a means of dispelling the excess energy. As children, their appearances change in initially in response to emotions and eventually they internalize the sensation of their magic leaving their cores to effect physical changes and, much like one learns to wiggle ears, they learn to coax their magic to the surface to effect changes on their appearance at will. Most metamorphmagus are able effect simple changes such as hair color for short periods of time until the magic energy dissipates, but there are a few who are gifted with the discipline to effect more complicated and dramatic changes and hold the connection to their core."
Hermione thought of her friend Tonks with sadness before remembering, in this time, the metamorphmagus was likely still very much alive.
"Unlike a metamorphmagus where magic comes in bursts from their core your magic exists in its resting state diffuse throughout your body..."
Septima squinted at Hermione as if trying to visualize the magic running through her, "There could be any number of consequences I have not thought of but as you clearly still retain some control over your magic appears to be closer to the characteristics of a magical creature than the squib-like state of a wizard who has exhausted his magical core past the point of regeneration we origionally thought.
Hermione just stared at her professor, "What are the implications of that?"
"Aside from metamorphmagus-esque skills I imagine that you will be able to apparate through anti-apparition wards similar to the way house elves can. Normal apparition squeezes your physical body into your magical core which then can travel wherever you wish to go with far less resistance than moving your physical body. Anti-Apparition wards target the incorporation of a physical body into a magical core not the actual movement of the core through the wards."
"Wouldn't apparating my entire body require much more energy than apparating just my core with my body incorporated?"
Septima nodded her head, "Most likely you will only be able to apparate short distances."
"If I apparated farther...I would splinch myself?"
"As your magic pulled your entire body through time, which has much more resistance than physical space, I would imagine you would remain intact but it is possible you would pass out before you got to your destination from magical exhaustion or your magic would simply refuse to pull your body along any farther,"
Hermione nodded her understanding.
Septima regarded Hermione curiously, "Are you an animagus?"
"I'm not, my form was not particularly useful for disguise or travel"
"I am uncertain... but I think there is the possibility that if you were to transform into an animagus in your current state you would assume a form that closer resembles your magical signature than your human personality- your form would likely be a magical creature."
"But that's..." Hermione trailed off. She supposed pulling your body through two decades of space time wasn't 'possible' either.
Septima's lips twitched into a subtle half smile that Hermione was beginning to notice more often.
"I, myself have not completed the transformation either but I can assist you with the spells for the trances that reveal your form if you wanted to test my theory..."
Hermione's eyes lit up with anticipation and she was graced with another twitch of Septima's lips.
"Wibbly!"
A sleepy house elf popped into the room with a yawn, "What can Wibbly (yawn) do for misses (yawn) Hermione and mistress Vector?"
"Hello wibbly, sorry to wake you, but could you retrieve some mandrake leaves, lemon candles and ashwinder scales?"
The little elf disappeared with a pop. Hermione waited with anticipation for the Wibbly to return. Just as Hermione began to wonder if the little house elf had fallen asleep she popped back with the requested items, placed them on the floor by Septima's feet and disappeared with another yawn.
Septima lit the candle and heated the ashwinder scales over the fire and handed Hermione the mandrake leaves, "Put these in your mouth but don't chew or swallow them, and sit cross legged by the fireplace"
Hermione felt a little stupid but she placed the leaves on her tongue and settled into the soft carpet in front of the fireplace.
"When the ashwinder scales are thawed enough they will begin to glow and the scent of the lemon and the warmth of the scales should put you in the proper trance. Once in the trance I will cast the spell on you. Try to feel for your magic, not your persona, and hopefully your form will appear."
While they waited for the ashwinder scales to warm Septima explained that usually one had to hold mandrake leaves in their mouth for almost a month but she hoped that the nature of Hermione's magic would allow her to visualize, and eventually transform into her form, far easier than it was for most since the magic was already in every tissue. When the ashwinder scales shifted from blue-gray to orange Septima levitated them and gently placed them in a circle around Hermione. She nodded indicating it was time and Hermione closed her eyes and let her mind drift.
She could vaguely hear septima chanting an incantation but her senses were occupied with her magic running over and through her veins and... she could almost feel it licking at her skin as it crackled like... Hermione noticed a shift as the magic that before darted through her in quick erratic movements like lightning became more steady but just as fluid and... warm... she felt the energy surrounding her like a warm blanket that lacked any disticnt form...
"Ahhhhh!"
All the sudden Hermione's awareness was thrust back to Septima's quarters as she simultaneously realized the scream had come from her mouth and she was being assaulted by freezing cold water coming out of Septima's wand. Hermione looked askance.
"Why would you do that!" Hermione shrieked.
Septima looked at her in disbelief and said very slowly, "You were on fire."
"I was not!"
"Yes, yes you were Hermione."
"I think I would've felt if I was on fire!"
Septima repeated herself calmly as if speaking to a small child, "Hermione you were on fire."
Hermione, eager to learn if she had a magical form, simply glared at the witch who had just doused her with water and tried to slip back into the trance she had been in before.
It was more difficult this time, probably because she was soaking wet, she thought irritatedly, but eventually she found that same peace she had before. She focused on the feeling of her magic in her fingers and toes and the magic flowing through her legs and abdomen and... There was magic flowing out from the base of her spine.. A Tail! She had a tail! She spun around to look at the new appendage and she noticed her elevated sense of smell! She opened her eyes ... she was some sort of fox and Oh! She really was on fire! But it was a warm feeling and she didn't mind and...
Ahrggggg!
Septima was standing above her with disbelief on her face and cold water pouring from of her wand and soaking Hermione. Hermione didn't even care this time! She was some sort of firefox! This was amazing! She wanted to transform right then and there. She had felt so comfortable as the fox. It felt... right. Like no one could ever catch her, like she was free and protected and alive. Hermione's mental celebration was interrupted by Septima's incredulous voice, "You were on fire. Again."
Hermione smiled at the older witch, "I know!"
Hermione knew the dangers of the animagus transformation but she was cold, stuck in a time that wasn't her own, her friends were dead, her magic had pulled her body through the very fabric of space time. She was nauseous and tired and at that moment she wanted to be the firefox again more than anything else in the world.
Septima watched with abject horror as right front of her Hermione transformed in into a fox the size of small cat with intelligent eyes the color of liquid gold. She was breathtaking. Her red and orange fur shifted colors as if it was on fire and where a fox tail should've been there was an actual, tail shaped, ball of fire. The fox chased it's tail and danced in circles, obviously pleased with itself.
There was horror in Septima's voice as she knelt down and tried to get the small creature's attention, "Hermione! You need to transform back Right. Now."
The fox looked at her quizzically.
"Hermione. You. Need. To. Transform. Back. Right. Now."
The fox frowned and suddenly Hermione was standing in front of her. Septima was furious. How could she risk abandoning them like that?! How could she risk her life, risk everything so recklessly?
And then it clicked.
Withdrawal. Hermione was going through withdrawal. Nausea, anxiety, loss of appetite, detachment and impulsiveness.
Hermione looked at Septima with comprehension and horror at what she had just done. The child covered her mouth with her hand in disbelief at, what Septima could only assume was, her own stupidity.
Septima quickly collected herself and looked at the situation rationally. Hermione had successfully completed the transformation.
"Hermione I need you to transform back to the fox and then back to the human until I tell you to stop in order to assure that your conscious mind retains control over the transformation. The worst of the danger in transforming is that you would be permanently stuck in the fox form or lose your mind when you transformed back. You appear to have luckily escaped both those fates but you need to transform again. Now."
Hermione shifted into the fox and back into a human with such effortless speed it appeared she had been an animagus her whole life. After the tenth transformation Septima whispered, "Enough." and fell into the chair behind her and let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. She pinched the bridge of her nose as if she was in physical pain.
"I'm sorry... I don't know what I...," Hermione's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, "I'm so sorry."
Septima sighed, "It's the withdrawal, I should've known better than to show you your form when you are..." she waved her hand to indicate all of the symptoms the girl probably understood better than she did at the moment. She cast a tempus charm, it was 5:18am. Thank Merlin today was Saturday and there would be no classes.
"I think perhaps I am more tired than I realized and we both let our curiosities get the better of us"
Hermione looked at her feet.
"We should both try and get some sleep and when you wake we will meet with the headmaster to further discuss your options."
Hermione was subdued as she walked to the guest quarters.
"Hermione?"
The girl had one hand on the door as she turned around to face the fireplace where Septima was seated. Septima was struck by the contrast of the darkness in the girl's eyes against her innocent features.
"Congratulations on your animagus transformation. It's no small accomplishment."
Hermione smiled genuinely and softly closed the door to the room leaving Septima alone with her thoughts.
The older witch conjured her glowing web of arithmancy equations and noted that three darker outcomes had disappeared. She let out another breath she didn't realize she had been holding. One disaster avoided. She laid back in her chair. She pushed the magic tendrils higher into the ceiling revealing more and more of events that had already come to pass. She pushed back to that fateful night 14 years ago, removed her own equation, and watched as the web grew and rewrote equations that previously had ended abruptly. She watched the threads of light grow and intertwined with others stretching high into the ceiling of her tower. She allowed herself a moment to grieve all of the lives that had ended because of her selfishness and youthful ignorance.
She had been 16 when she made the mistake that would haunt the rest of her life. She had been the cleverest witch of her generation, recruited by the unspeakables before she had even finished her seventh year. She had been the sole heir to the line of Rowena Ravenclaw.
She had been in love with a wizard.
He had been the most powerful wizard of an entire had been kind and cunning and loyal. He had appreciated her intellect wit where others only appreciated her blood.
He had been 17 when he stepped in front of the bullet meant for his mother shot from his own father's' gun. His father that had told he was worthless his entire life. His father that drank too much and viciously abused him and his mother his entire life. His father that didn't deserve to live.
She had been 16 when she found him dead in a pool of his own blood.
She had been distraught with grief when she broke into the unspeakable department of the ministry and stole the original time turner, it had belonged to merlin himself. It was only device in existence that the unspeakables believed had the power to change the past.
She had been shaking with rage when she spun the dial 12 years instead of 12 hours back in time.
She had been consumed with cold fury when she cast her first and last Avada Kedavra.
She had been emotionless when she spun the dial back 12 years.
She had been 16 when she entered the new world she had created.
A world where she had never been born.
She had been 16 when she realized she had created a monster. In a world where his father had been murdered when he was 4 years old. A world where he was 5 when his mother died and he was sent to the orphanage. A world where he was 7 when he hung his roommate's pet rabbit from a noose tied to the rafters. He had tortured his fellow orphans before he turned 11.
In this timeline he had been 16 when he created his first Horcrux.
In this timeline he had become the most powerful and dangerous dark wizard of all time
In this timeline she studied in secret and joined the unspeakables at 18. At 20 she was selected to be part of the first team to study time travel since the dark ages. At 23 she truly understood that she could never undo what she had done. With every day that passed her arithmancy skills improved, and with them her understanding of time travel became sharper. With every day that passed she learned new techniques to measure the consequences of her actions in lost lives, in newly widowed wives, in orphaned children, in families torn apart.
Once upon a different timeline they would've taken on the world together. History would have remembered them with the fondness and reverence reserved for the ancestors they lived their young lives in forever in the shadows of. Once upon a different time she would've lived without the weight of a thousand deaths on her soul. Once upon a different time...