Before Hermione notices the fall wind of September has changed into November snow. The boys, Harry and Ron have begrudgingly returned to Hogwarts for their final year and the Weasley have returned to the Burrow. Hermione keeps up a familiar routine, morning training with Snape, brewing potions for the order and research until it is time for supper. It is a calm few months, but Hermione is continuously waiting for the next catastrophe. Most nights Hermione wakes up in a cold sweat, Luna's unalived face etched into the back of her eyelids. Hermione has taken to casting a silencing charm on her bedroom, but she often hears the others, Remus, Sirius and the new addition of Blaise calling out into the night. Their home was truly a place for broken souls.
Hermione notices the darkness that had been muted ever so slightly in the last few months make its presence known. She is dueling Snape in a dual method where she attempts to keep up her occlumency shields from his attacks while still maintaining a good defense from his hexes. But Hermione has been up fretting since the early hours and loses focus in her tired state for less than a second but that is all it takes.
"Legitimus, Sectumsempra" Snape commands and is surprised when he is thrown into her mind. A distant memory plays before his eyes. A woman with long black hair and the same electric blue eyes is crying. Dumbledore stands, an unfamiliar cruel smile etched onto his face. The woman begs, again and again, and Snape tries to escape the memory, it is too intimate, too much, too familiar but he is caught in the ocean current of Hermione's mind. "It is for the light, the common good" he hears Dumbledore say and the woman holds out her wand "She's only a child," she says shaking and as Snape strains to hear the rest he is flushed out of her mind. But he recognizes the child reflected in the woman's eyes- Maxima Potter.
Snape's curse hits its target, and an array of cuts lacerate Hermione's pale skin. Crimson blood seeps into the frost-covered grass. She makes no noise, silent in her suffrage. She has been taught well. Guilt envelopes him but he casts the spell again "legitimus" this time she holds strong. She is a fortress, and he is physically thrown by the sheer force of the mental block.
"Very good, Miss Granger." Snape congratulates her, extending his hand to help her from the cold ground. She accepts it and follows him weakly into the house. Snape is tending to her wounds in the kitchen when Sirius walks in his wand pointed.
"What did you do, Snivellus" He snarls but is surprised when his wand lands in Hermione's hand. "Expelliarmus" she casts almost lazily; she is tired and not in the mood to deal with their constant bickering. She hops off the counter and hands Sirius his wand back "boys please behave" she says looking cross before she heads upstairs for a warm shower. Sirius wonders when she has become so comfortable, less shy and meek bookworm and more fighter. War does that he supposes, tears away our innocence, there is no room for uncertainty in war.
Sirius and Snape glare at each other but do not cast any hexes. "Something weird happened today, Black" Snape begins, looking dejected as Hermione exits the room.
"Weird..." Sirius enunciates slowly, in a world of magic and miracles 'weird' was a very subjective word.
"Did I stutter?" Snape begins but runs a hand through his hair, frustrated, "She slipped, and I saw a memory" he pauses "I wasn't looking for anything, we're practicing occlumency; the only way to get her stronger is if I attack" he adds quickly, defensively before Sirius can get himself riled up. Snape's brow is furrowed, and his jaw is taut.
"Her memories are private" Sirius begins, but the statement is only half-hearted. How private could her memories be, if those around her knew more about her than she did.
"I saw Dumbledore taking a child from Dorthea Potter. He was taking Maxima" Snape's voice is tight, waves of anger course through his veins.
"I don't suppose he asked permission," Sirius says, his shattered faith in Dumbledore hanging on by a very thin thread.
"You would be correct" Snape replies, his hands balled into fists. "She begged him not to," he adds quietly. Both men knew that Dorthea Potter was a force of nature and did not beg.
"Fu- DAMNIT" Sirius yells slamming his hands into the counter. He sees red. That's why she could be in both times. She was stolen. He understood now. Understood Dorthea Potter, how she was looking into the shadows for monsters before anyone else. And he grieves for Maxima, his maxima, ripped from the arms of her own mother, thrown through time.
Snape doesn't stay much longer, only hands potion instructions to Sirius to hand off to Hermione. Both men are speechless in the wake of the news. For the first time, the men agree on something, they decide not to burden Hermione with the news. She'll find out eventually, but for now, it is not her burden to bare.
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are in trouble, this they know. But perhaps they are not aware how grave it is, or how this one loss could change so much. "Professor McGonagall-" Ron begins looking to Harry for help as they trail behind her waiting to receive punishment. "We were only trying to find the kitchens, where growing men you know, gotta keep up the strength" Ron starts, yelping when Harry lands an elbow into his gut.
Harry glares at Ron, this was his fault. He had insisted they take the map to grab a bite because Ron was, as always 'just starving'. It would have been all fine if they hadn't seen that name, Archie Barrette. The same name which had appeared where McGonagall appeared to be walking. Ron insisted Harry was seeing things, and the two bickering was how they were caught, map removed and presumably marching to Headmaster Dumbledore's office for their sentence.
At the bottom of the staircase, that who appeared to be Professor McGonagall turned to the two boys. "Just say that password and pop right on up. He'll be expecting you" she said, rushed looking at the surrounding area past the two students.
"The password?" repeats Ron dumbly, gazing at his professor.
"You don't know it do you?" The professor growls, the tone sounding foreign and so very wrong. Harry feels his scar burn, he tightens his grip on his wand taking a slow step backwards.
He could feel it, the way the air seemed to chill so suddenly, the way his muscles tensed and the way his scar seared white-hot and throbbing.
"Know what exactly, because there are so many things I know. I am Weasley of course! Bloody hell there are so many things to learn just from my family. I've got loads of brothers ya know. A bit of a handful mum says but we get on by" Ron rambles spitting out words at an impressive speed.
Harry is grateful for the moments of time Ron was buying them, but Harry Potter was terrified, his hands shaking looking expectantly at the corridor the remained empty as it would be for some time at the middle of the night. Ron gestured for harry to back up, his hands moistened with perspiration. He was scared. And Harry, well he was petrified.
Harry took another step back. He wondered if he had time to gather help, or if he had time or power to curse this McGonagall look alike himself. "You're useless" a distorted male voice existed out of the professor. It spits the words with venom, all pretenses of the kind professors voice are gone.
"little chosen one and his ginger buffoon" the voice is grating but Ron stands his ground placing his body in-between Harry and it. Gryffindor, bravery in the sight of danger.
Harry gripped his wand rushing towards Ron. His heart clambered against his rib cage, he regretted taking those steps back now. But as much as he would wish, he could not change those actions. He raised his wand, just as the professor did the same, male features presenting themselves as a Polyjuice potion wore off.
"AVADA KEDAVRA" the deep voice of a man echoed. The spell echoing off the stone walls.
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS" Harry shouted. A second too late. Two bodies slumped to the ground.
One with half features of Minerva McGonagall and of a strange man.
The other body is that of Ron Billius Weasley. Harry drops to his knees, and a sound escapes him. A sounds full of both magic and pain. Doors of all the nearby classrooms open. Glass shatters. The whole castle of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry seemed to echo this pain of this atrocity.
"Nonono" Harry begged holding his friend in his arms. Ron's features were slack except his eyes which seemed to stare off into the distance. Harry leaned over him, beating his heart with compressions. If it could keep muggles alive, it would save Ron. He could save Ron.
He continued this, long after Ron's ribs cracked under the pressure. Long after Professors arrived in stunned silence. Long after the Ginny Weasley threw herself next to him in grief.
He continued, not because he wanted to but because his hands were now the only thing giving Ron a heartbeat. "Please, mate. I need you to be okay-" Harry begged the slacked figure pressing the palms of his hands into his chest, the flow of tears coursing onto his hands. The sound is the only thing that echoes above the whispers.
It is Albus Dumbledore who finally says something. "Harry" he starts, unsure of what to do. The action was noble enough, but how do you tell a boy that such muggle methods did not sustain a wizard. How do you tell a boy to give up hope. Harry continues on.
"Ron. RON. Please. I'm so sorry." Most of the professors and students turn away. This is not theirs to watch. It is too intimate- too painful. The heads of houses lead their students away to the great hall. Anywhere but here.
"Harry you must stop" Dumbledore speaks, quiet but firm. Harry looks at him, his eyes swollen and red.
"His magical core has been erased." He told the boy who shook like a leaf in the wind. Thump. Thump. Harry pulsed his hands to beat Ron's heart.
"Mr. Weasley is no longer with us" Dumbledore says remaining stoic as Ginny screams muffled sobs now into her father's robes. Harry looks at his headmaster again, desperate. He looks at the older wizard who sits on his knees beside him, his cerulean robes splayed about. He looks at the wizard's eyes, trying to find humor, trying to find the lies.
"This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't REAL" he chants shutting his eyes. His scar burns and harry can hear screaming, oh so much screaming. His head hurts a white-hot pain, it was only a second- a second too late. He should have cast the curse the mattered, he had been to noble- too weak.
"You have to stop, Mr. Potter. Harry ENOUGH" Dumbledore grabs the boys hands roughly and Harry topples to the floor. Harry heaves and spews all over the floor a few meters away. Ron's eyes still stare into nothingness, his body is cool and Molly Weasley kneels down to hold her youngest son's hand.
"My baby boy" she whispers, her eyes glassy but holding composure.
The other body is gone, presuming one of the many auror's Harry sees surrounding him have removed the man for questioning. Harry does not realize how full the room is. Sparse students still stand, but Ministry workers and the Weasley family all alike stare at Harry. He closes his eyes, if he presses hard enough he can almost imagine he is still asleep in his dorm with Ron snoring a few feet away.
Harry reaches over and with shaking hands and shaking, he brings Ron's eyelids closed. "I am so sorry" harry speaks quietly, his voice raw and quivering.
Molly kneels beside him and firmly grasps him in an embrace. She does not speak, there is no way to console this horror. She holds and whispers "you're okay, this isn't your fault" into his hair.
One by one the Weasleys give their goodbyes, holding each other, embracing Harry. There is no question that Harry is one of them, ginger hair be damned.
As they Weasley family turn to apparate, along with the shell-shocked Harry Potter, he has one thought.
They should have never returned to this place; Hogwarts was no longer home.