Okay. So as I'm writing this, I have already posted the second chapter. But regardless, I feel that you might be confused about the details (Kudos to you for sticking with this story up until now!).
This fic is compatible with almost all books. The only difference is that Harry did die at the forest encounter with Voldemort (either because he boarded the train at 'King's Cross' or because both the hocrux in him and he died). Hermione, who was some-sort of appointed guardian of Harry who had to step in if he fails, performed a spell that enabled her to travel backwards in time. As you've seen, she landed thirty or so years after her intended era. Hermione Wood nee Granger, according to her 'records', was born on September 19, 1958- making her 18 turning on 19 on the year 1977 (seventh year of the Marauders). She has extensive knowledge of the dark arts and has more abilities, might be equal to Dumbledore, because of her task from Dumbledore.
In the canon timeline, she was born on Sept. 19, 1979, making her 18 as these events roll out (as she was 18 on 1997, her 'seventh year' of schooling).
Lucius Malfoy was born on 1954 in this story, and is yet to marry.
On the timeline: She arrived roughly a month before September. She was invited to come in the school three weeks before term. September 1, 1977 falls on a Thursday (I checked… talk about weird) so her first DADA class with the Gryffs and Slyths was on a Friday. Her fainting spell and that entire thing with Malfoy was on the following Saturday. Chapter Five is set on both Sunday Morning and on Monday. Next DADA lesson is on Wednesday (Sept. 7) and in this Alternate Universe, Tuesday night is a full moon (I don't want to check anymore). So this is only in the second week of school. The Slug Club party would be in 2 weeks, so that would be… on the 16th or something near it.
For future reference, Voldemort is 50 years old. He was born on 31 Dec 1926, making him 50 at September 1977.
Whew. I think I wrote that partially to remind me of what I'm writing again. I tend to forget. Oh, and I decided that there are no Heads dorms. At all.
Reminder: This story is Hermione-centric, though it still focuses on other people. This would reach the whole circle, so it wouldn't focus on one pair interaction only. I want to explore the whole 70s wizarding world. It's almost day-by-day, so progress is slow. And yeah, update is a bit slow to. I like to be done writing 2 chapters ahead whenever I post.
…
Officially disclaimed. Tergus, I think, is Latin for hide.
There's a thing called Free Will; use it.
R I S I N G
"Potter, do you have any plans to come with me on patrol? As in, any time before the next millennium?" An irritated Lily Evans was impatiently tapping her right foot in front of three of the Marauders.
Startled, the messy-haired head of James Potter peeked out from the group huddle that he was having with Black and Pettigrew. Regaining his senses, he replied with a wide grin, "Aww. I'm sorry, Evans. Remus is a bit sick tonight. Gotta keep him company, right?"
Rolling her eyes, and muttering something that sounded like 'boys', she stomped her way out of the common room.
Outside, as she was walking with Alice, a realization struck her. Not to sound arrogant herself, but this is the first round that she and Potter was scheduled to patrol, and he turned it down? Deciding quickly that there was something up, she resolved to think of it later and concentrate on 'Frank's hot-factor' as Alice put it.
The corridors they were walking were haunting to look at, with the pale moonlight barely illuminating the halls. Wait. Moonlight- Moon. How could she have been so ignorant? She had known it for three years now; she should have acted more understanding. Remus Lupin, the only Marauder she has ever tolerated (aside from Peter, occasionally), was transforming now. Feeling sad for her friend, she turned to Alice and said, "Hey. Thanks for coming with me for patrols. I hate Potter for not coming… head boy, honestly," Shaking her head, she continued, "I'm a bit tired. Transfiguration killed me a while ago."
Nodding sympathetically, Alice opined. "I know, right? I'm excited about human transfiguration, but making you demonstrate? And Theresa too." She stifled a yawn. "I guess I'm tired too. Care of Magical Creatures never did do wonders for me." They started walking back up the Gryffindor tower.
"I told you to drop that class, didn't I? You never liked animals, so why you wanted to continue it is beyond me…"
…
Sighing, he raked a hand over his already messy hair and took out the Marauder's Map once more. "Okay, you lot. Moony's already gone down the passage, so we're running a tad bit late. C'mon."
Padfoot and Wormtail followed their friend as they exited the common room under the invisibility cloak. They went down quickly, using the shortcut behind the portrait of the Drunken Thieves and then raced to the ground. The cloak was stowed away, then the Marauders transformed into their Animagus forms.
A rat, grey in colour with a distinguishing long tail, climbed up the trunk of the Whomping Willow and prodded a knot with its paw. The violent movements of the tree stopped, and the magnificent stag and the dark dog took this as an opportunity to slide in through a passageway beneath the tree's big roots.
Inside this place was a sight to behold. This was the wildly-talked about Shrieking shack, said to be haunted by ghosts and restless spirits. The villagers were wrong. This run-down place was haunted by another kind, by a werewolf once a month. That werewolf, Remus Lupin 29 days a month, was currently staring at the intruders.
He howled in recognition of his friends, and proceeded to tackle the stag down to the ground. Its glorious light brown fur revelled in the moonlight peeking at the windows, and his playful snarls echoed through Hogsmeade and through the forest. Excited barks interrupted the mock-fight of the wolf and the stag. Sensing mischief, the werewolf jumped through one of the open thresholds and ran into the woods, followed closely by the Animagi.
Moaning, she slid down the water and let the tensions in her muscles relax. The day had been hectic, and she really wasn't used to this much responsibility, as a teacher, yet. Hermione was in the Prefect's bathroom, though she shouldn't be, but the tub in here was way more accommodating than the one provided for her in her quarters. She reckoned that it was late at night anyway, so there wouldn't be any problem.
Night… it was a full moon tonight. She really must be loosing her edge, forgetting about Remus' lycanthropy, especially since she just talked with him yesterday. She knew she could have gone down to the grounds, changed into her animagus form and watched them, but she feared another reaction much like last weekend's. Memories of the past still haunted her, try as she might to remove it. She didn't want to go down, for fear of remembering the old, haggard looking Professor Lupin, the gaunt face of Sirius…
Sighing once more, she let herself relax to the sensations of the hot, soothing water.
Murmurs fill the classroom as the first bell rings. Indifferent, a 16-year old man with dark eyes and an aristocratic jaw surveys the Defence against the Dark Arts Classroom. Though he wouldn't say it out loud, not that there would be a reason too, their new, young professor was one of the best they've had. He refuses to participate, however, because he is a Slytherin and Slytherins don't 'participate' –no matter how interesting the lesson is.
Across the room, a gaggle of Ravenclaws were talking amongst themselves. The class was recently assigned an essay on a particular dark curse they have chosen, and the Ravenclaws were going over each other's work. Among these blue-tied students was a boy with dark short hair and light eyes. His name was Benjy.
The murmurs died down as their 'too young' professor entered. She had her hair in a high, loose bun, and her hands were playing with her wand. She crossed the room and made her way to her desk.
"Good morning." She smiled brightly before taking her seat. "Take out your essays and your quills. We'll have a lesson today." She summoned the essays and had them neatly stacked on her desk then vanished.
She stood up and crossed to the board. The sixth years watched as their professor took a deep breath and as the grin on her face slowly subdued.
"We live in dark times," she said slowly. Some of the Slytherins smirked, while most of the Ravenclaws sat straighter, anticipating a new topic for discussion. "Where, obviously, dark wizards and witches freely exercise their power. I am your defence teacher, and as such, I am tasked to help you defend yourselves," she enunciated the last two words clearly. "You should be aware of what's out there, of what's raging outside these safe halls."
Hermione's brown eyes surveyed and swept over the students, and said in a clear, emphasizing voice, "Voldemort."
There was a collective gasp across the room. The class sat even straighter, and the Slytherins who knew stared incredulously at the witch for saying such a taboo name.
Rolling her eyes, the witch mentioned said, "A wise man once told me that fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself. Understood? Voldemort," flinches and cringing were observed, "is simply a name –nothing more, nothing less.
"I'm getting off topic. There is a war brewing outside, ladies and gentlemen; a fact most of you are well aware of." Her eyes looked sharply at a single direction. "But there is nothing to fear if you know a few choice spells –what to use and what to avoid."
Waving her wand, words appeared at the board… Advanced Theory: Protective and Stealth Spells, Warding Charms, Offensive Hexes, Unforgivable Curses etc. "Now, from what I've gathered from your previous teachers, you have breezed through Protective Spells and slight Offensive Spells." She let out a rather unlady-like snort, drawing the attention of the class. "I learned all these when I was fifteen!" But maybe they didn't have Moody/ Crouch Jr. as their Professor.
"Now we will start with Warding Charms. Could anyone tell me what they do?" She asked. "Yes, Ms. Andala?"
The curly-haired Ravenclaw stood up and primly answered, "Warding charms are used to protect and/or defend an area or region that the caster of the spell chooses to include. It may block unwanted comers, protect the place from eavesdroppers and prevent natural calamities from affecting the area. Unplotting spells and the Fidelus charm are often included in this category by defence theorists."
"Very good, five points to Ravenclaw. As she has said, Warding charms, spells etc. are used to case an area to prevent unwanted visitors, happenings or damage. The Imperturbable Charm could also be included in this category. We will cover Unplotting spells and the Fidelus charm too, as it may come in next year's NEWTS. Who could give me an example of an Unplotting spell?"
Another Ravenclaw raised his hand, this time a boy with dark hair. "Yes, Mr…?"
"Fenwick, professor." The boy replied.
"I'm sorry, but are you related to an Alice Fenwick, by any chance at all?" She mentally smacked herself for not noticing the boy earlier –for not seeing the apparent similarities… if her hunch was right.
A look of surprise settled at the boy's face. "Yes, Ma'am. She's my sister, do you know her?"
"Yes, yes…," she smiled. "But we'll get to that later. And don't call me ma'am, Miss Wood would do or professor in better days. Give an example of an Unplotting spell, Mr. Fenwick."
Remembering the question, he stammered out an answer, "Tergium."
"Correct. Three points to Ravenclaw. The Tergium, Tergoeso when cast, is the most common of the Unplotting spells." A movement caught her eye near the back seats. "Excuse me, Mr. Flint, but this is not the time to have foolish wand waving to pass notes. Please, do try and listen. Five points from Slytherin."
An incredulous uni-browed Slytherin looked up to his professor. Most of the other students were wearing faces etched with disbelief too, seeing as Flint was way in the back, and he was moving almost imperceptibly. How had she noticed?
Taking the attention of the class once more, she continued where she stopped. "Tergium, as its classification states, unplots a place, making it untraceable and removes it from the map. You would not be able to floo into the place, unless they have extended a connection, and neither would you be able to apparate directly into the area unplotted. Since we have two periods today, we will be using half of it with you reading your textbooks and me staring into space. You've got one hour, turn to the chapters on Warding Charms and Offensive Hexes, page 134 through 149. Take notes. Begin."
The class read, and scratches of quills on parchment could be heard around the room.
…
"Time's up. I hope you used your time wisely, and pack up your books. It's time we tackled something that isn't found there." Hermione Wood stood up from her seat and addressed the class.
In slow, drawled syllables, she said, "The Unforgivable Curses."
The faces of the students flashed with recognition, and the eyes most of the Slytherins and some of the Ravenclaws flashed. Ah. They've seen it… firsthand?
With a flick of her hand, a screen appeared behind her, depicting the shady and gloomy scenery of Azkaban. It was a fortress atop an island in this picture, and there were hooded figures –dementors, floating and gliding in the far-off distance. The students who have already been to a visit in Azkaban shivered from their memories and those who haven't stared in horror for the scenes their imagination has cooked up.
"A single use of one of the Unforgivables will lead you to a one-way trip to Azkaban," she smirked, "unless you happen to be an auror, or unless Minister Bagnold is as persuadable as she looks."
"I would not demonstrate it, that much is obvious, but it would satiate my sadistic cravings to show you imagery of how it is done. Could somebody give me an Unforgivable curse?"
No hand was raised; the students were either processing the revelations or simply scared of their professor who was now looking deathly and powerful in her stance. "Perhaps you, Mr. Flint?"
The man mentioned stood up, and not wanting to be humiliated, answered, "The Cruciatus Curse."
"Excellent. The points you lost are returned. The Cruciatus Curse, Crucio when cast, enables the caster to inflict indescribable, excruciating pain to the spell's recipient. Though I will not cast it, what I will show you depicts its effects roughly." She took out one of the jars in near her desk, the one with the witch in a study, and muttered a spell no one could hear. She held out the transparent jar and showed it to the class. The witch instantly writhed in silent agony, its mouth moving in mute screams of pain. They shuddered from what they were seeing, because it looked too real, only minimized.
She kept the jar back after muttering a counter-spell. "As you saw, that is what you usually see in a person who has never been inflicted of that curse before. The length of duration of the spell depends on the caster, as do the strength. A woman once said that you had to mean it, but I'm not here to teach the Dark Arts. I sincerely hope that none of you experience it. It's a painful experience, though the most stubborn could avoid screaming and trashing around like that."
Sneering, Regulus Black said, "Have you ever seen it? You sound like an expert." He looked smug, as if expecting a 'no'.
Hermione looked strangely at him, as if realizing he was in this class for the first time –though there was no mistaking the angular jaw and dark obsidian eyes. "Mr. Black, you sound awfully lot like your brother… speaking out of turn."
She inwardly smirked at the thinly veiled offended look in his face, before replying, "Yes, I have seen it –experienced it actually, first hand."
The room became silent. The sneer in Black's face was effectively wiped off, and the class looked at the teacher in a new light. They looked at her with respect, though they saw a lot more. It was then that they saw how their professor looked like. They only noticed now the way her eyes, so deep and penetrating, held secrets and darkness of depth; they looked past the womanly curve of her body and the thinness of her waist, and saw the pale skin that hung to a body that expressed years of training and war; they realized the agility and gracefulness of her movements, her quickness of her actions. Intelligent Ravenclaws? Observant Slytherins? How did they not notice the haunted look of their professor, the calculated steps she took?
Hermione Wood gave a sad smile to her students. Her hopes of having her cool, innocent façade was broken. It was stupid of her to have said that, but he was reminding her of summers in Grimmauld where a certain, darker and decidedly older Black teased and irritated her to no end. Choosing to move on from that episode, she averted her eyes, which, strangely, have remained locked with Black's, and said, "Now, who could tell me the next Unforgivable curse?"
It was as if her voice woke them up. The class stirred once more, each individual refusing to meet the eyes of another. After a few, tense minutes, a hesitant hand came up. Elizabeth Andala's hand came up, and she stood as her professor called her name.
"The Imperius Curse."
"Five points to Ravenclaw once more. The Imperius Curse, Imperio when cast, puts the target into a trance, and makes him or her perform the bidding of the caster. I have honestly no idea how to show this to you, so I hope you have working imaginations.
The Imperius curse… there's like this, this voice in your head telling you what to do. Faint echoes sound through your surprisingly empty and light head, and there's this urge to follow whatever that voice says. It's as if there's a wonderful release from all the obligations and responsibilities in the world, and all you have to do is follow."
The wide-eyed students stared at their teacher who was looking at something, at a memory, in awe. They all assumed that she has been subjected to this also and some even allowed themselves to think that she has cast it herself, yet no one dared to question again.
"There is a way to resist it, though. Only those with the strongest will could. I am not sure how we could test it, unless I miraculously get permission from the ministry," she shook her head at this thought; she was no one here, and she certainly wasn't a high-ranking retired Auror, "but I advise you to try test it… not with the Imperius curse, idiots." She added, seeing the looks of her students.
Rolling her eyes, she continued, "Exercise your free will. Do not be afraid to stand up for what you believe in… do not conform yourself to follow ideals not your own." Her eyes swept over the Slytherins.
"Understood? Now, what is the last and final curse?"
No body raised their hand. Slightly confused at their reactions, Hermione answered the question herself, "The Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra."
"Here is another curse I cannot hope to demonstrate in front of you, yet at times of war it would be used. There would be casualties that cannot be helped." She looked away from them and out of the stained windows. "There will be death; we could not escape that." She began to walk nearer to the side windows. "But we could hold strong. I have seen many things, and I know that if I hadn't had others with me, I wouldn't be here right now." They're not exactly here, are they? "Darker times are coming," she continued quietly, then turned to face the class, "Brace yourselves." She said the last part in a soft whisper, almost strained.
She took a deep breath, and surveyed the class. So innocent … "I warn you that the Offensive spells and the Unforgivable curses aren't the darkest incantations to have ever been uttered by men." She knows this herself. "There are spells that could corrupt both caster and target, that could kill millions in one breath. Do not be afraid of these, but be wary of those who will not be afraid to use it." Voldemort. Her.
The first bell rang, and the students packed their things with shaking hands. This has been climactic; dramatic. She called over the ringing bell and said, "Practical tomorrow –Offensive and Protective spells."
She slumped against her desk as the last student left. There was going to be a long, long day ahead.
Alright. Reviews are appreciated. Thanks to those who have reviewed!
