Altera Aretla
Extended use of the time turner during her third year has unforeseen consequences for Hermione in her sixth year. Consequences that might just drive her insane unless she can find her way back and with the unexpected help of Bellatrix Black who might actually not be who she first seems.
Everyone has headaches. Stress headaches, hunger headaches, headaches just because, and even those like Harry who have headaches because they share their head with Voldemort.
Hermione's headaches are different. But she doesn't know just how different until it's too late.
"Mione, you alright?" Ron asks, his voice coming in like it's underwater. Hermione can barely hear him over the thrum of the noise in her head. Can barely see the world around her. Instead she sees flashes of magic being used, of screams, and a cackling laugh as footsteps run away. "Crucio!" she voices loudly, not quite aware she's speaking this. The images are blurry and they overlay with her current sight, making everything hard to make out. It's dazzling and dizzying. And frustrating.
Hermione reaches out a hand, grasping for support as her legs go weak. Someone grabs her, and it isn't until she's being sat down by the wall that she's aware of who did. "Mione?" Ron's more gentle voice asks and she gasps for air, the tight band around her head vacating as she returns to the present.
She looks wildly around herself, to get her bearings. Ron's by her side, grim faced. Harry's by them, a bit more off to give them space. "Is it the headaches again? Are they getting worse?" the bespectacled boy asks, mouth grim.
She nods her head, unsure if she can speak. Her mouth feels dry.
"This is the third headache this day, Hermione," Harry continues speaking, keeping his voice low because even if the classroom is empty, they don't want to speak too loudly least someone poke their nose in. "You're having them every day now. This isn't good."
"I know it's not good," she said meekly, rubbing her throbbing temples. Her head hurts all the time and when the episodes come and go, they at least offer a small respite from the pain. "But Pomfrey can't find anything. Neither can St. Mugo's or the muggle doctors. I don't know what's causing them."
"Did you talk to Dumbledore?" Ron offered.
Hermione shook her head no. "He's busy. I don't want to bother him with something so trivial."
"Hermione, this isn't trivial! This is literally getting in the way of your education! And he's a great man who knows a lot. Maybe he can tell you what's wrong. I'm sure he'll time for you too. You're one of his favorite pupils," Harry assured in one breath.
Hermione didn't know if this was true, but she was running out of options. The headaches had been a minor thing and then they started picking up frequency, started getting more painful and then started having these weird scenes occurring in tandem. "Alright. If you can talk to him, ask him to make some time for me."
"No problem. I'll get it done," Harry assured. "Let's get you some food and water. You look a bit pale."
Hermione felt pale, if that was possible, and she rose to her feet. She had not taken more than ten steps, about to leave the classroom when her head resounded like two cymbals crashing together against her skull and then she was slipping into another episode.
She grabbed her head with her hands, her mouth open either in a scream or a silent gasp. She couldn't tell, because her mind was filled with chaos. Thousands of images flashed by her, going so quickly that she couldn't tell what they were, and then the world was going upside down and she went dark.
She opened her eyes after a while, not quite sure if she'd fainted or not. She'd been awake and then she blanked out while still being fully aware just without any of her senses functioning. She sat up slowly, her mind, while throbbing, feeling for once not full. There had been a constant fullness to it before, like a sink gradually filling with water. Now, it felt...empty. Light.
She sat up, finding Ron nor Harry were there. The hallway was empty and dark. How had so much time passed? Was it night? It felt like night. Hogwarts entirely creepy in the dark like this. Hermione got up, patting her pockets until she found her wand and cast a quick lumos. If she was here after dark then she didn't want to get caught. She hadn't meant to break the rules.
But why had Ron and Harry left her? Surely they wouldn't. No. Maybe she had come here on her own? Sleepwalked, but because of the episode? But then what had happened in between lunch and now? Had she talked to Dumbledore?
She swore silently under her breath. She couldn't remember anything! She had to go ask Ron or Harry but there was no way she was going to sneak into the boy's dormitory now. She'd talk to them in the morning.
Ignoring a deep feeling of wrong that stayed in her gut like an old friend, she walked through the halls, making sure to avoid any spots where Filch might be waiting to catch a student like her up. She thankfully made it to the Portrait that hid their common room entrance.
"You again," the fat lady said, looking mightily displeased. That tone did not sound good. Had Hermione done something to the portrait while the episode took hold of her? "If you so much as point that wand at me, I will scream my head off. It took ages for them to restore my varnish after you burnt it!"
Hermione's mouth hung open. Her, burning the painting? That didn't sound right!
"What's going on here?" a female voice asked and rounded the corner. Hermione jumped, but it was only a Gryffindor prefect. Perfect. Maybe she would let Hermione in. The portrait did not seem like she would.
"I was just making my way in," Hermione explained while the portrait huffed behind her in disdain.
"If you're trying to break into the Gryffindor common room, I'm not going to let you, Granger," said the prefect in a steely voice, though the person to whom it belonged to's wand hand shook as they held out the lumos. Hermione blinked at the bright light.
"Excuse me?" she asked and the Prefect flinched but stood her ground.
"I mean it, Granger. Git back to your common room or I'll call McGonagall on you," said the blonde haired Prefect.
"But I- I use this common room! I'm in Gryffindor!" Hermione protested.
"I don't know who you're trying to fool but it's not me. Now leave before I have to make you leave." The threat was clear in both wand and voice.
Hermione gulped, thoroughly confused. The strong feeling in her gut from earlier only intensified. She backed off without another word, trying to collect her thoughts. Just what exactly had happened during those hours she missed? Had she hurt people? But no, why would she? And how?
She didn't know. She didn't have enough info to know. Not yet at least. Maybe the morning would bring her better answers. But she had no where to sleep. She wasn't even allowed into her own common room. Then where would she go? Would she have to sleep in a classroom? Or maybe down by the boat house? She'd spent a sleepover there once with the girls when they'd all gotten together and smuggled in some muggle things and watched TV on a night off.
Sighing, she went to the bathroom to freshen up. Her mouth tasted like ash and she wanted to get a drink from the tap. She went in and set her still lit wand on the sink, letting the tap run. She splashed some cool water on her face, then cupped her hands under and drank when the water gathered. Done, she looked at her expression in the mirror. It was dark, so the angles made her look more sharp and scary than normal. Her normally bushy hair looked ten times as wild, curls astray everywhere. She ran her wet hands through them, trying to comb them out.
She gave up halfway. It was no use. Without proper product, she wouldn't be able to tame this. And her products were all in her room. Damn it, how was she supposed to be ready for class the next day when she hadn't been able to do her homework at all tonight!
She snatched her wand back up. She really needed to get into her room!
But the light reflected in the mirror and caught her eye as she noticed a detail she hadn't before. It was her robes. She ran the tip of her wand closely over her school issued tie on her white shirt underneath and gasped out loud.
It was green and silver. The colors of the Slytherin house. But why?
Why the hell was wearing the tie of her rival house? Why the hell? Just what had she done during an episode? That's it. This could wait no longer. She needed her answers! But would they be in the Slytherin house? They must be; if she was wearing their outfits, it was her first clue or the first location to visit.
She stormed out of the bathroom, going to where she knew the Slytherin's had their dorms. She rushed more recklessly down the halls but did not come across anyone. She got to the dungeons where it was ten degrees cooler, having flown down nearly several pairs of stairs in her hurry. She didn't know what to expect when she got to the doorway. Did they have a secret passcode? Probably, given the portrait hanging on a wall where water dripped down it, some parts green with moss.
"Ah, you again," the portrait said dryly, one of some older gentleman with a twirling white mustache like cartoon villains have. He swung open. "Well, in you go, before I get in trouble for you wandering out about again at night."
Hermione raised a brow at that comment but went into without further dispute. If she kept asking questions, she might just drive herself mad! One question at a time. She was merely grateful she was in the snake's den. But could she just freely walk around?
She entered the chilly common room and found it empty, even the hearth out. It was quiet. Now what did she do? She might be the brains of the trio, but even the brains got confused from time to time. She pocketed her wand, for it was dimly lit inside and she strode into one of the dorms bathrooms. In the bright light there, she checked herself out in the mirror.
It was true. She was wearing Slytherin's colors. And her hair was darker. Or was that just a trick of lighting? But no, she peered at it, pulling the strands and examining them. Her hair was darker. But why?
She closed her eyes, pushing away from the sink and taking a deep breath. Focus, she reminded herself. There were more important things to resolve than why her hair seemed two shades darker. Her uniform, was a big clue as to what was happening, but she didn't know how yet.
My room. Let's go see my room, she thought to herself. If she even had a room here. She wasn't familiar with the lay out of the Slytherin dorms so it took a bit of wandering to find the girl's part. The floor here was covered with plush carpet patterned in green S's and the doors were neatly labeled with the names of the students. Hermione went down the hall until she found the door with her name on it. Granger, it said on the plaque and she wondered why she had a room to herself.
She opened the door.
And saw there was a girl on her bed.
Lounging seductively.
And naked.
It was Pansy. Pansy Parkinson. On Hermione's bed.
The girl smirked. "Hell-"
Hermione quickly closed the door.
Hell was right. What the actual fuck was happening?
A/N: Just a little thing I wrote on a whim. Might continue it if I can make out some plot lmao.