CHAPTER I
Firsts Symptoms
Hermione covered her sweaty forehead with a shaking hand as she flipped the yellow pages of the book before her. Her eyes moved quickly, following every sentences, every inked word as they printed themselves in her mind.
Of Timer-Tuners and their Side-Effects
The excessive use of time-turners can cause severe damage on the wizard's health. Various symptoms can occur such as diziness, nausea, splitting sensation, headache, fever and amnesia. If one or several of theses symptoms occur on a period of several consecutive days following the use of a time turner, we advise the wizard to visit a time specialist promptly.
If this advice is not followed diligently, it is possible for the wizard to hear the constant noise of a clock following him. Time-turner are powerful artefacts, made of light magic and they ask for a payment in time, as they gave time. Old sand-spirit are thought to live inside every time-turner, fulfilling whishes and giving time.
If the wizard using the time-turner is plagued with an obscur heart full of bad and selfish desires, the spirit will play with him and finish by making him lose himself in time and space. But if, one's heart is pure and righteous, the spirit will take the wizard in a time where all his heart's desires will be fulfilled. It is said that the righteous and pure-hearted will hear the spirit's voice in theses last moments, asking them to make a wish.
To prevent it, we would recommend to avoid any stress or any activities causing strong heart activities. A calm heart doesn't attract theses spirits who are awaken by passion, anger and desire.
Hermione closed the book angrily, the noise seeming louder in the quiet library of Hogwarts. Madame Pince raised her head and looked at the student with a stern look as the young lady clasped her head in both of her hands. The faraway sound of the old library's clock appeared to follow her, echoing in her mind as she took deep and loud breaths.
She wasn't the type to listen to her body's whims. And when she started to have headaches and nausea in the summer, she decided not to pay attention to it. But as the fourth year started, it'd gotten worse, and worsened again the following days. After several months of self-diagnose, she was able to link her illness to the strange artefact which had permitted her to follow her lenghty course the year before, to save Buck and to help prisonner Sirius Black to escape. She had already returned the time-turner, but she still felt its weight around her neck, like an invisible grip, and a constant shadow of the golden object.
She forced herself to take deep breaths again. The spirit was after passionate hearts...And seemed to want to help them in a strange and twisted way which may amuse him. Sand-spirit were known to be vicious and wicked, but strangely just and generous with honest travellers of the desert. Still, playing their game, even for all the riches and promises they offered was not advised.
Not being passionate, not desiring anything...It was impossible. Even the coldest person desired. And Hermione was the complete opposite of impassive, the antithesis of a cold and detached person. Every fiber of her being burned with fire, passion, and an eternal desire for righteousness. She wanted very little for herself, but it seemed her mission to want big things for the world. Big things such as justice, righteousness, freedom, and more kindness for every people whoses hearts were wounded by the viciousness which seemed to be inherent in this society.
Asking for her heart to be void of theses desires was like asking her not to breath, not to live. Throwing her head backward, she worked on her breathing and tried to still her raging mind. She didn't have the choice, whatever game this spirit wanted to play with her, it would be very unwise to follow. But even as she tried to convince herself with theses words, as much as she tried to pretend still being in the control of this situation, the words seemed hollow. And the feeling of something following her persisted, like a strange and smiling presence who was delighted by her and who whispersed again and again...
Tick-Tock.
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"Miss Granger, stay.''
The voice of the Professor Snape was as cold and void of emotions as was this day of december 1994. Outside, the colour white had swallowed the last shades of autumn, covering them with its soft and merciless coat of frost. The donjons were colder than ever and the students had almost all ran out after this endless lesson of potions.
The brown-haired witch, silently reassured Harry and Ron before putting back her bag on the wooden tables. The trio were more and more suspicious of Snape this year, for the wizard seemed to have forgotten nothing of his encounter with his old ennemies in the Shrieking Shack. Since the escape of Sirius Black his heinous feelings for the group of young students seemed to have grown into a flaming hatred, flueled by the wood of ressentment.
The Professor advanced toward her with a slow pace before throwing on a paper on the desk. It was a copy of The Gazette with its title printed in loud and big characters "CRIMINAL SIRIUS BLACK SUCCESSFUL ESCAPE". Hermione gave it a quick look before raising her proud and unitimidated gaze toward the adult. Her silence was complete, and seemed to bring a deep annoyance in the dark eyes of the potion master.
"I suppose you know nothing of this...affair, Miss Granger. It would after all be very surprising for a young lady such as yourself to be affiliated with one of the most known criminal of the wizarding world."
Hermione let a small smile cover her lips as her right hand formed a fist. Calm, she would be calm. She recognized here the test of the spirit in bringing a subject before which she would have all the difficulties in the world to stay calm. Sirius Black...Her heart lost its regular beat at the simple mention of his name. This wizard crystallized every bit of injustice the life and society could throw toward a man. He was in every part ruined : his beauty was hollow, his passion now echoed tightly with instability, his anger was never answered and most importantly his wounds were never healed as the knife of injustice hit him again and again.
And if there was something Hermione couldn't bear, it was injustice.
"Yes,"drawled the Professor and his slow and almost menacing voice, "a laughing matter really. Ridiculous and impossible to believe really, unless one has a proof in an unalterable thing...In his memory for example ?"
Her heart started to beat harder and quicker as her fist became even more tight. The calming breath that she took was almost stuttering as she gritted. "Almost as ridiculous as a man of your stature being ruthless enough to desire to do evil to such a battered man..."
"Evil ? Evil, did you say Miss Granger ? In this situation evil would be the appropriate word to describe a criminal, a murderer but you seem to have a peculiar use for it. Or is it that Gryffondors with their superior moral senses seem to distinguish good and evil in a way that the common folk can't ?"
He was mocking her. Her nails digged into the tender skin of her palms. He was mocking her and mocking him. Him, the criminal, the one no one believed, no one had compassion for, and her, the gryffondor, the student, the self-righteous know-it-all. But she did know. She knew that Sirius Black was innocent, and she knew what injustice looked like.
Tick-tock...
"I am the owner of my mind, Professor. Just as much as your mind and memory belongs to you and only you, mine is mine alone. My voice is also my own and if I want to vocalize my thoughts, I will."
"20 points for insolence, Miss Granger."
This man...This man was a bitter and unfair man. For years he was cruel to them, for years he insulted Harry, sweet, sad Harry. And now he...The hollow silver eyes of Sirius Black appeared in the back of her mind, burning and making her heart ache at the simple memory of the sadness inhabiting them.
The smile of the Professor was burning her as strongly as the memory of theses eyes.
How she wished she could wip this smile of his face...
Tick-tock...
How she wished she could have seen theses eyes, theses beautiful silver eyes before they were haunted by the shadows of desperation and madness...
Tick-tock...
How she wished she could have been here to prevent that. How she wanted to know what kind of darkness infiltrated the heart of men like Severus Snape to make it so cold and hard...
Her heart seemed to burn with want, filling itself with more wishes as her headache came back with vengeance. She clasped her hand around her head and shook it, her eyes opening wide when her thoughts became clear in her buzzing mind.
No...
Tick-Tock...
And in the back of her mind, a delighted laugh made itself heard.
Wishes granted...
To be continued...