Anam Cara

Alternate Normality

"Miss. Granger?"

Hermione jumped in shock and spun around to face the speaker. The move caught her slightly off guard and she laid a hand on the sill of the window that she had been standing by to steady herself.

"Professor Dumbledore."

"You are awake, I see. How are you feeling now?"

Hermione paused. Did he expect a truthful answer to that question? Was he simply enquiring into her health, or her current state of mind? Better to be answering the former, she thought, the latter was confusing her still. Her walk through the school has left her feeling very odd. She felt in between, snared by the feelings of hope and being home, and the desire to flee, to return to her strange past normality.

She took in a small breath. "Better," she answered. "But my head hurts a little and I still feel a bit shaky. I expect it to pass, though. Feels like recovering from a cold, I suppose."

The elder wizard smiled, nodding. "I am glad to hear it."

There was silence and Hermione felt heavily aware of the Headmaster's weighty gaze upon her. She cleared her throat. "The decorations are different from my time here," she noted pointing at the holly leaves and sparkling strands of tinsel that adored the walls.

"Yes, well, we rather thought after all that happened, a change would do us good. Even in the most insignificant things." Dumbledore suddenly looked apologetic. "Oh, I am sorry. Merry Christmas, Miss. Granger. I'm afraid that your coming took me quite by surprise and I forgot to return your greeting."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Hermione's lips. "You're forgiven, Professor Dumbledore."

"Thank you, my dear. I was just in the middle of sharing dinner with the others. I don't suppose you would like to join us? It's only the staff this year, no students stayed."

The smile disappeared. Hermione looked at him without speaking, questioning. Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him short in a low whisper.

"I can't."

"Everyone will be so pleased to see you, I do assure you. It will be no inconvenience if that's what you are afraid of."

Again, Hermione interrupted by, this time by shaking her head.

"Perhaps I should rephrase that," she said. Her voice was a little stronger now.

She took in a breath. "I won't."

With that, she turned quickly and took hurried steps away from him. In no mood to continue 'exploring, if that's what one would call a place that is not new to us, the castle, she returned to the infirmary. If she knew Dumbledore, he would not follow, at least not until it was necessary.

Several hours passed with Hermione sitting by herself atop her bed, the covers pulled up to her knees to give her a little warmth. Occasionally she slipped in and out of sleep, but nothing lasting. Instead, she sat alone with her thoughts and stared quietly out of the window at the darkening sky and the fresh fall of snow as it drifted past the pane, with the odd flake sticking to the glass and sliding slowly down as it inevitably melted.

There was suddenly the pitter-patter of soft footsteps outside, and the infirmary door swung open gently. Madam Pomfrey looked happy to see her patient was awake.

"Good evening Hermione."

"G-,"Hermione began to reply, but Poppy's bustling about stopped her. "Now then, where did I put them?" She opened a drawer that magically elongated as it slid out. "Ah, her." She pulled out some robes and then turned to Hermione.

"The ones you were wearing before were in a terrible state- rips, dirt, fraying," she continued, murmuring incoherently and then stopped herself. "Now I'm no Transfiguration expert, mind, but I think I did a nice job on these." She held up the almost new robes. They were a deep, navy blue that fell gracefully in a long length, but were practical."

Hermione smiled weakly. "They're nice, thank you." Privately she decided to hack a good few inches off them before she wore them anywhere in public, but they would do for now.

"Now, let's get some dinner down you, and we'll have you dressed and into your room as soon as possible."

"My room?" asked Hermione, confused.

Pomfrey raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes dear, she said impatiently. "Surely you didn't expect to be staying in the infirmary with Professor Dumbledore around?"

Hermione didn't reply.

"He came to me after Christmas dinner and insisted you were feeling better and would benefit from being given your own room to say in, if only for a while." She frowned. "Personally, I would much prefer you to say her, just for another night, but when Dumbledore says…" She sighed and then strode away to a table in the far corner of the room. A silver tray appeared with a small Christmas dinner, pumpkin juice and a tiny Christmas pudding, dancing in flames.

Pomfrey jumped. "Dear me. These house elves get sneakier every day. Always doing this and that, without a trace. Mind you, they do say, that a mark of a decent house elf-"

"Is no mark at all?" finished Hermione. "I know." There was trace of bitterness in her voice.

"Yes, isn't it convenient that we don't have to see, nor thank those in our service," she continued, irate, more speaking to herself than Pomfrey. "Like the bloody Stone Age, this world sometimes…" she trailed off in a low tone.

The medi-witch looked abashed. "Yes…well." She handed her the silver tray, balancing it on Hermione's lap precariously. "I'm warning you, don't move until all that's disappeared."

"Disappeared where?" Hermione muttered darkly, but said no more. She was ravenous, her last real meal being at a shady inn two nights ago. Digging into the thick slices of turkey, she let out a satisfied little noise. It had been a long while since she'd had Christmas dinner, and no matter how strange it was, she was determined to enjoy it.

"The dungeons?" asked Hermione, and gestured down the steps the Headmaster had been leading her down.

Dumbledore nodded. "Currently this is the only place the castle thought it convenient to make a new room for you, so it'll have to do for now. It's very comfortable though, and terribly quiet."

Quiet didn't sound too bad, Hermione thought. The prospect of living down in the dungeons of the castle wasn't that bad, it just surprised her that's all. She'd assumed it was a primarily Slytherin domain. But apparently, there were exceptions.

Dumbledore walked slowly down the steps and picked up a lantern that was hanging from an iron hook on the grey stone wall. He held it up high.

"Just so we can see a little better," he said. "I'm sure that once you get used to the route you will not need the extra light." He continued on down a long hall, past the Potions classroom and turned down a winding corridor.

"Ah, here we are," he proclaimed, smiling widely at her.

Hermione gave a small smile back but after a few moments of total quiet and nothing happening, she felt obliged to ask, "And that would be where exactly?"

"Oh, how silly of me." The elder wizard took a few steps forward. "Sugar Quill."

Nothing happened.

"Oh, hold on. Blood Pop."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Had he finally lost it? She never thought she'd have to see the sad day when Dumbledore went around randomly shouting out the names of his favourite confectionary.

Without warning, there was a great scrabbling sort of noise, and the previously stationary bricks at the end of the wall began to move rapidly, like some strange, blurred jigsaw puzzle. Hermione felt like an idiot when she realised what he'd been doing. The password. Of course.

"I took the liberty of setting it for you," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement as though he had sensed what she had been thinking. Then again, he probably had heard her thoughts, knowing him.

He waved one hand to the entrance of her rooms. "I'm sure you would like to get acquainted with your new quarters. Sleep tight, Miss Granger."

Slowly, Hermione minutely dipped her head in response and turned to face the door.

"Oh, and Miss Granger?"

"Yes?"

"If you have any problems…feel free to visit Professor Snape. His rooms are just down the hall. Password's Omnipresent."

A/N: Thank you for so many nice reviews! I'm very flattered. Haha- I know EXACTLY what Draco's plans are…and well, you'll just have to wait to find out. Not for that long though. He's not necessarily Severus's nephew, he calls him Uncle for a different reason, relating to his father.

I've started writing the 'Sakura' back-story and have found a beta for it. All I can say is that I hope to post some of it before I get to the crucial bits about her in the fic.