Chapter Four
November 10th, 1981
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
The old wizard, her formerly dead headmaster, observed her carefully with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes that might not have unnerved her had he not been previously dead. Harry had worshipped the man and even Hermione had based a lot of her ideas and theories on the fact that Albus Dumbledore was a baseline for trust and goodness. It was why she had defended Snape for so many years, and look how well that turned out.
As Dumbledore placed a hand on Remus's shoulder, offering silent thanks for standing guard despite his obvious exhaustion, Hermione remembered that when she was in Bathilda Bagshot's house, she'd picked up a copy of Albus Dumbledore's biography. Written by Rita Skeeter, there was likely to be a plethora of lies inside, but Hermione couldn't help but wonder if there were any truth within the pages and, if so, when would she have a chance to read it.
"I must say, Miss Granger, I was a bit surprised when I returned to Hogwarts, that the Book of Records was glowing. It seemed, you see, there was an interesting error of sorts. As of ten days ago, there were two Hermione Grangers in the book. One, who is not yet even of age to attend school, and the other who is evidently a missing seventh year."
She swallowed hard and then cleared her throat. "Well, that answers the question as to how you know . . . or I supposed guessed my name," she said, her eye contact wavering a bit. Albus Dumbledore was the world's greatest Legilimens and Hermione wasn't entirely certain how much of the future she wanted the man to know. "I was . . . I'm sorry, sir, it's . . . a bit of a shock to see you."
Dumbledore nodded and pulled up a chair to the edge of her bed, taking a seat. "My suspicions are confirmed then? You are from the future?" he asked and she simply nodded. "According to the book, I would guess 1997? 1998?"
"December 25th, 1997."
"A belated, or perhaps early, Happy Christmas, my dear."
Hermione forced down the sob that was threatening to choke her. She looked at a bag in the corner where her belongings had been set aside while the Healers worked on her. Her clothes, beaded bag, and worn trainers. The dirt and muck had been scrubbed from her skin but she could still see the stained blood there on her clothes. Harry's blood. "It wasn't very happy, sir. Harry Potter died."
Remus reacted immediately, eyes wide and body stiff. He turned and regarded Dumbledore with an expression of complete and utter panic.
Dumbledore reached out and placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "I can assure you, Miss Granger," he said, looking at Remus instead of Hermione as he spoke, "Harry Potter is alive and well."
"He won't always be," she said, speaking to Remus as well when she noticed him relax at the headmaster's words. "Harry died in my arms when . . . Death Eaters attacked and Voldemort—"
Dumbledore frowned. "Ah, so he's not as gone as we'd all hoped."
"No, sir. He'll return."
There was a long moment of silence and Hermione could only speculate what the men were thinking about. How to protect Harry, how to prevent another war, how they'd thought it was all over and in a matter of moments their worries had come rushing back. "Can I trust that you will aid us in preventing such an atrocity from happening?" Dumbledore said, finally breaking the silence.
She blinked in momentary confusion. "Forgive me, sir, but I would have thought that you would have tried to convince me not to alter the timeline. It's dangerous magic."
He nodded in agreement. "Magic that, according to Mister Lupin, you had no control over. Apologies, my dear boy, I've always been a curious person and couldn't help but listen to your conversation. I do hope you'll forgive me."
Remus gave the man a small smile. "Of course. Sir, you believe her?"
"I do, indeed."
"Then that means she's telling the truth about Sirius and Peter," Remus said, sitting forward on the edge of his chair, looking as though he were ready to jump to his feet and rush out the door if given the order to do so. "We have to save Sirius and . . . I can't let Peter just get away with—"
Dumbledore raised a hand, silently requesting that Remus pause in his movement. "Yes, we shall not allow young Mister Black to remain in Azkaban a second longer than we can help it. I will send word to Bartemius Crouch," he said and Hermione reacted to the name by gasping. "If the papers are to be believed, he is in charge of Sirius's case."
Hermione scoffed loudly, drawing the attention of both wizards. When Remus's gaze lingered on her, she cleared her throat. "How many Death Eaters have been captured? And which ones?"
"Should I, instead, be asking you which ones should have been captured?" Dumbledore questioned.
"Igor Karkaroff," she began, holding up her fingers and actually counting off, "Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband, his brother as well. Lucius Malfoy, but he'll claim he was Imperiused. Someone called Rookwood . . . I have a list of all known Death Eaters," she said, looking at the bag containing her things. "I'm not certain off the top of my head which were arrested and imprisoned and who escaped. But . . . you'll want to speak to Cornelius Fudge, not Bartemius Crouch."
Dumbledore raised a brow. "And the reason, my dear?'
"Because Barty Crouch Jr. is a Death Eater," she said, trying to forget the look of horror on Harry's face when he'd told her and Ron everything that had happened with the Polyjuiced Alastor Moody. She wondered if keeping Barty Crouch Jr. locked away in Azkaban would be enough. He was instrumental in resurrecting Voldemort and if he never escaped then perhaps . . . no . . . someone else would figure it out. The Horcruxes needed to be destroyed. That was the only way to end it. "He, along with the Lestranges were arrested and imprisoned for . . . oh gods . . ." she gasped, "the Longbottoms!"
"Alice and Frank?" Remus asked.
"Are they . . . where are they?" she asked.
"Safe at home, I would assume," Remus replied, his eyes filled with apprehension. "Should they not be?"
She shook her head. "The Lestranges and Barty Crouch Jr. tortured them into . . . they never recovered. They need to be kept safe!" she said and turned to Dumbledore with pleading eyes. "Sir, they—"
"They are safe, Miss Granger," he assured her. "The Lestrange brothers were captured several days ago. Apparently, the pair had been caught in a trap set inside the home of Frank and Alice Longbottom."
"Where are they?" she asked, thinking of the look on Neville's face when he stood with his grandmother in the Janus Thickey ward, visiting his parents on Christmas.
"Here," Remus said. "Or well . . . they were. Alice is Harry's godmother. When . . ." he paused and took a breath, "when Lily died and Sirius wasn't around, she was next on the list of people to contact. I still don't understand why Harry's not with them," he said, looking at Dumbledore pointedly.
"I have my reason, Remus," Dumbledore replied. "It will not matter soon enough. Harry will be returned to his father once James has recovered."
"What about Bellatrix and Crouch?" Hermione asked.
"Bellatrix Lestrange's whereabouts are currently unknown," Dumbledore said. "The last I heard, Aurors had traced her to Gringotts where her vault had been emptied, but she was nowhere to be found. I was unaware of young Mister Crouch's affiliations. I will send word to the Ministry and hold a meeting with Misters Fudge and Crouch and do what I can to secure the capture of previously unknown Death Eaters, as well as the freedom of Sirius Black."
She sat up straight. "I would like to help, sir. I think I might know where Peter Pettigrew is."
"I'm coming," Remus said, standing.
Dumbledore frowned. "Remus, are you well enough? You've surely not slept in—"
Remus brushed off his concerns and rubbed his eyes. "I'm fine . . . just tired is all."
Hermione moved her legs to the side of the bed, indicating her desire to leave as well. "Before we . . . I'd like to see Mister Potter."
Remus raised a brow. "Mister Potter? Oh, you mean James," he said and then nodded, looking up at Dumbledore. "It's fine. I'll take her."