Author's Notes - To everyone who's reviewed so far, thank you for your
comments. I really didn't expect much of a reply at all, to be honest, so
my ego just went through the roof. This one's for you guys.
Vindicated
I am selfish, I am wrong, I am right
I swear I'm right, Swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself so clear..
-Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional
"Dumbledore!" The aged wizard bright his wand up and flicked it once, and all of Harry's family disappeared from view. The blue eyes, which usually held a merry twinkle whatever might be happening, were now a fiery blue. Dumbledore's eyes fell upon Harry, a grim determination on his face. "Get them and go." Harry's jaw dropped, and he looked down to see three white mice on the floor, two rather large and one skinny. Remembering Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret , he scooped up the rodents and stuffed them into the pockets of his robes. "But Professor, where-" But Dumbledore's voice grew in volume for the first time since Harry had known him. "I SAID GO." The older wizard brushed past Harry and up the stairs, his footsteps unheard. Harry watched him turn into his room, then turned towards the doorway with a step, only to see a dark figure in the doorway. Before he could register who it was, a hand had grabbed him and pulled him from the house bodily. Harry's trunk, still under the locomotor spell, followed him out. "Dammit all, Potter, you cause us more trouble than you're worth at times." Harry's knees went weak as he realized Moody was the one manhandling him, dragging him along the sidewalk towards what appeared to be a waiting car. He had a memory of the gangster and mob movies he had watched from the stairwell into the living room, when they would stop a car or a van beside someone and pull the unsuspecting victim in. Moody opened the door with a swish of his wand and a muttered "alohamora", then uncerimoniously dumped Harry into the back seat. "Good Morning, Harry." Harry, now thoroughly confused, looked up to see the face of Arthur Weasley looking back at him from the driver's seat. The usually cheerful face was pale, and it seemed he had aged a decade in the three weeks since Harry had seen him at King's Cross. "Mr. Weasley, what..." Mr. Weasley raised a hand, quieting Harry. "Right now, all priority is getting you to Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore will take care of the Death Eaters. We've got to go." He paused for a moment. "Where...is your family?" In spite of the past five minutes, Harry grinned, and brought out the fattest white rat, who he assumed to be Dudley. "They're here, Mr. Weasley." The red-haired man grinned as well, nodding. "Well then, it's off to see the lizard, is it?" Harry would have laughed, but just as Arthur Weasley finished his statement, there was an explosion out of the window, and part of the wall, where Harry's room had been at Number 4, Privet Drive. Black smoke began to roil out of the new hole. Mr. Weasley turned back to the wheel as Alastor Moody got into the passenger seat beside him. "Yes, well, that would be our cue to leave." Moody's only reply was a growl, and the car sped off. Harry stared out the window until Number 4, Privet Drive was out of view. His childhood home was gone. And nothing could have wiped the smile off of his face. Two hours later, the car (A BMW, which Harry could not fathom in the least, how had the Weasley's afforded such a nice car?)pulled to a stop between Number 11 and Number 13 Grimmauld Place. "Remember the paper, Potter." Harry thought of what the slip of paper he had been given last year said, and slowly the house he had inherited from his Godfather materialized. Mr. Weasley pulled the car into the dilapidated garage. "Quickly, Harry, we must get inside. After what happened today..." "Stuff it, Arthur. Save it for inside." They didn't bother knocking at the front door, but barged in - Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Moody. In the foyer stood a sea of red-haired freckled faces - Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Mrs. Weasley. The latter pulled him into a hug, tears already falling from her eyes. Through her hug, Harry saw the face of Ron before he felt his best friend's arms around him as well. Harry struggled. "Geroff, geroff, Mrs. Weasley! There's more than just me in these robes!" Mrs. Weasley and Ron both backed away, and led the way to the Kitchen. None of the rest of the family nor Moody said a word, they merely sat at the kitchen table, staring at one another. Harry felt the three mice squirming around in his pockets. Moody spoke first. "Well, we got him in time. Just barely, by the look of it." Mrs. Weasley let out a wail, and put her face in her hands. "We could have lost him, it was almost too late, if we'd not gotten the warning from Figgy..." Mr. Weasley, looking a bit paler from his wife's words, reached an arm out and drew his wife into an embrace. "There, there, Molly, he's here, he's safe..." Harry was looking at each face individually. Fred and George seemed to be in mostly high spirits. Ron appeared as death warmed over, and Ginny's freckles looked almost brown from how pale she was. He cleared his throat. "So those were Death Eaters?" Moody grunted. "Aye, Potter. We got an owl from Mrs. Figg that two men in wizarding robes had been walking down Privet Drive for about half an hour. We drove down there, but by the time the car arrived, the Death Eaters had already gotten in the house. We heard you shouting while the car was sitting outside. I told Dumbledore you had it under control, but he would have none of it." Moody cleared his throat, and guestured to Harry's chest. "Why don't you let us meet the rest of the family, Potter?" Harry shifted, and brought out the three rats. He placed them on the floor, and Moody brought out his wand. "Finite Incantatem." Suddenly, Harry's Uncle, Aunt, and cousin were standing in Grimmauld Place. Uncle Vernon had a blood vessel throbbing on his forhead. His speech, however, was not as prominent. "How...why...what...right...rat..." Moody stood slowly, sizing up Vernon for the third time in two years. "Because it was the safest way to get you where we needed to go." Aunt Petunia stayed on the floor, rubbing her eyes. Dudley scrambled for the nearest corner, his hands on his buttocks. Uncle Vernon continued staring at Moody. "What right do you freaks have to turn me into a RODENT and pull my from my OWN HOUSE?" Harry, who felt quite queasy at the moment hearing his uncle screaming at Moody, and also becoming worried at the grin growing on the scarred face of the wizard, stood up quickly and stood between the two men. "Because if we hadn't, you would be dead right now." Vernon's fat face, already the shade of a ripe tomato, drained all color until he could have tied Nearly Headless Nick in a battle for Ghostliest Ghost. His hands came up to his tie, and smoothed out his jacket. Aunt Petunia stood slowly, but made no move towards the group of wizards staring at them. "That's right. Those people that you led into my ROOM were going to kill you as soon as they were done with me. So feel fucking lucky that Dumbledore showed when he did, or you wouldn't have this chance to thank Professor Moody and Mr. Weasley." Harry turned to his friends, his eyes falling on Ginny, then Ron. His brow furrowed a bit. "Where's Hermione?" Ron's eyes stared into Harry's for a moment, then moved to the table. His next words were choked out. "St. Mungo's. The Order didn't make it in time." The queasiness that had been building in Harry suddenly turned sevenfold, and he crumpled to the floor. He heard Mr. Weasley's voice saying "Get some water..." before the blackness overtook him and he knew no more. The trip to St. Mungo's didn't take long, and they walked through the window into the foyer. A gruff looking wizard took their wands and didn't give them back.
"It's the new security measures after the Ministry was finally convinced of Voldemort's return. You'll get them back when you leave."
Harry, who had never truly been without his wand except for his expulsion hearing last summer, was a bit nervous.
"What if Voldemort attacks the hospital and nobody has their wands?"
The security guard blanched at this. "I...I suppose the Healers still have their wands, and they know what they're doing, right? Besides, St. Mungo's un UnPlottable."
Harry, still feeling queasy, simply nodded. He was still uneasy about having his wand taken from him, but he supposed it was the best idea.
The receptionwitch motioned them to where Hermione's room was, tutting.
"She doesn't look good. You might want to get up there soon."
The eyes of Harry and Ron both widened considerably, and they left the rest of the group behind, except Ginny, who was almost right beside them. Several of the Healers and MediWitches scowled at them running through the corridors, but they paid no heed as they threw open the door to Hermione's private room and crowded in.
There were three beds. The one on the right was empty. The bed in the middle held Mrs. Granger, who was apparently sleeping, covered in bandages that hid almost all of her body.
The bed on the right held Hermione, who's bushy hair had lost it's curl and was starting to turn white, either from the scare during the attack or the potions the Healers were giving her. Harry, Ron, and Ginny moved to her bed first, where she was staring at the ceiling, apparently out of tune with the rest of the world.
Harry picked up her right hand and clutched it in his own, looking down at her. "Hermione. Hermione? It's Harry. Wake up, Hermione."
"She's got far too many potions in her to understand you, Mr. Potter."
They turned to see Professor Snape standing in the doorway, his usual scowl gone and replaced by something that wasn't exactly compassion, but wasn't exactly loathing, either. He took a few steps forward to the end of Hermione's bed and picked up her medichart.
"Ezran's Draught, Lightfellow's Oblivious Unction, Koressa Nightmar's Unfeeling Elixer....no, she will not awaken any time soon."
Snape placed the medichart back upon the end of the bed, and folded his arms as the three friends looked back on the girl in the bed.
"Professor...is there anything you can give her? To make her better?" Ginny's voice was cracking as she spoke, and she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe.
Snape's eyes betrayed him as they fell upon the little red-headed girl, and he blinked. "I can bring her back to consciousness, Ms. Weasley, but as for healing her, there are things even potions cannot do. The Healers still do not know what sort of spell she was hit with, even though her condition closely resembles the effect that Crucio had on the Longbottoms 16 years ago. But her condition continues to deteriorate. I can awaken her from this stupor, I believe, the stupor brought on by the potions but..."
"Do it, Severus."
Dumbledore walked into the room and stood to the left behind Professor Snape. The Potions Master nodded without turning and drew a small vial of vibrant blue potion from a pocket of his robes and uncorked it. Instead of placing it to Hermione's lips, he merely poured it on the girl's forhead, and it was absorbed quickly, not even spilling onto the pillow.
Hermione's eyes closed, then opened again, and she gasped as her back arched from the bed. She stayed in that position for a moment before she crashed back down onto the sheets, and she twisted left and right, as though fighting off someone.
"No! Not mum! Mum! NO!"
Harry, who had lost his grip on her hand, grasped it again as Ron took her right.
"Hermione! HERMIONE! It's us! It's Harry and Ron!"
Hermione's flailing stopped for a moment, and she looked back and forth to Harry and Ron, then her back arched again and she cried out.
"Professor!"
"Be calm, Mr. Potter. This is a side effect of the potion. It will be over soon."
Hermione flailed about a bit more, throwing her covers from her body, until she finally laid back in the bed and stared at Ron again.
"R...Ron?"
The redhead smiled, then collapsed into her chest, his sobs causing his whole body to shake. Harry let go of Hermione's left hand, and she placed it on Ron's head, running her fingers through his hair.
"It's okay, Ron, I'm here."
Harry took a step back, and bumped into Ginny, who was also crying. He felt a scrambling at his hand, and then her fingers intertwined in his as they both watched the two on the bed. Harry was fighting back his own tears.
Ron stood, wiping his face of tears, still holding Hermione's hand. "Mione...are you alright?"
Hermione's face fell, and she looked to Snape, and then to Dumbledore. Her own eyes began to well with tears as she spoke.
"The spell that I was hit with in the Department of Mysteries...never got to finish healing, Ron. When they attacked....when they..."
Her eyes widened, and then closed tightly as her hands moved to her abdomen, a short cry of pain coming from the bushy-haired brunette.
Dumbledore stepped forward. "It is alright, Ms. Granger. It is over, you may relax."
The aged wizard looked over his glasses to Snape, who nodded and drew another vial from his robes. The other three students looked at their Headmaster quizically.
"Ginny, Ron, please come with me."
Ron stood still for a moment, then looked back to Hermione. Her eyes had opened again, and she was looking at him, gripping his hand as though it were a lifeline. He leaned over and whispered something in her ear, then moved out the doorway quickly before anyone could see his face.
Harry felt Ginny let go of his hand, then heard Dumbledore mutter something before the door closed. Harry took Hermione's hand once more, looking to Professor Snape.
"What..what is going on?"
Snape didn't answer him, but merely moved to the other side of Hermione as he uncorked the vial.
"Ms. Granger, you know what you have to do. It will hurt, but it will be all over soon."
Hermione nodded, and looked to Harry.
"If this doesn't work, Harry..."
"If what doesn't work? What in the bloody hell is going on?"
Hermione squeezed his hand, which calmed him a bit. "Harry...during our third year, with the Time-Turner...do you remember that?"
Harry nodded, remembering how she seemed to appear at odd spaces and times when she shouldn't have been there, and the escape of Buckbeak and Sirius...
Hermione smiled, but it was a faded smile, tinged with pain. "It wasn't just classes I was going to."
She let go of Harry's hand, and closed her eyes. She cried out, her face squeezing together, but then suddenly on the bed sat a pheonix, fluffing its wings. It looked to Harry, and let loose a quavering note. Harry nodded, understanding.
"It will be quick, Ms. Granger. A few sips should do it."
The pheonix looked to Snape and nodded, then took a few drinks from the vial he proferred. She tipped her head back, letting the black liquid slide down her throat. She let loose one more quavering note, then suddenly flames enveloped her. They were gone as quickly as they had arrived, leaving only a small pile of soot and ashes on the bed.
"Goodbye, Ms. Granger."
"Dumbledore!" The aged wizard bright his wand up and flicked it once, and all of Harry's family disappeared from view. The blue eyes, which usually held a merry twinkle whatever might be happening, were now a fiery blue. Dumbledore's eyes fell upon Harry, a grim determination on his face. "Get them and go." Harry's jaw dropped, and he looked down to see three white mice on the floor, two rather large and one skinny. Remembering Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret , he scooped up the rodents and stuffed them into the pockets of his robes. "But Professor, where-" But Dumbledore's voice grew in volume for the first time since Harry had known him. "I SAID GO." The older wizard brushed past Harry and up the stairs, his footsteps unheard. Harry watched him turn into his room, then turned towards the doorway with a step, only to see a dark figure in the doorway. Before he could register who it was, a hand had grabbed him and pulled him from the house bodily. Harry's trunk, still under the locomotor spell, followed him out. "Dammit all, Potter, you cause us more trouble than you're worth at times." Harry's knees went weak as he realized Moody was the one manhandling him, dragging him along the sidewalk towards what appeared to be a waiting car. He had a memory of the gangster and mob movies he had watched from the stairwell into the living room, when they would stop a car or a van beside someone and pull the unsuspecting victim in. Moody opened the door with a swish of his wand and a muttered "alohamora", then uncerimoniously dumped Harry into the back seat. "Good Morning, Harry." Harry, now thoroughly confused, looked up to see the face of Arthur Weasley looking back at him from the driver's seat. The usually cheerful face was pale, and it seemed he had aged a decade in the three weeks since Harry had seen him at King's Cross. "Mr. Weasley, what..." Mr. Weasley raised a hand, quieting Harry. "Right now, all priority is getting you to Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore will take care of the Death Eaters. We've got to go." He paused for a moment. "Where...is your family?" In spite of the past five minutes, Harry grinned, and brought out the fattest white rat, who he assumed to be Dudley. "They're here, Mr. Weasley." The red-haired man grinned as well, nodding. "Well then, it's off to see the lizard, is it?" Harry would have laughed, but just as Arthur Weasley finished his statement, there was an explosion out of the window, and part of the wall, where Harry's room had been at Number 4, Privet Drive. Black smoke began to roil out of the new hole. Mr. Weasley turned back to the wheel as Alastor Moody got into the passenger seat beside him. "Yes, well, that would be our cue to leave." Moody's only reply was a growl, and the car sped off. Harry stared out the window until Number 4, Privet Drive was out of view. His childhood home was gone. And nothing could have wiped the smile off of his face. Two hours later, the car (A BMW, which Harry could not fathom in the least, how had the Weasley's afforded such a nice car?)pulled to a stop between Number 11 and Number 13 Grimmauld Place. "Remember the paper, Potter." Harry thought of what the slip of paper he had been given last year said, and slowly the house he had inherited from his Godfather materialized. Mr. Weasley pulled the car into the dilapidated garage. "Quickly, Harry, we must get inside. After what happened today..." "Stuff it, Arthur. Save it for inside." They didn't bother knocking at the front door, but barged in - Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Moody. In the foyer stood a sea of red-haired freckled faces - Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Mrs. Weasley. The latter pulled him into a hug, tears already falling from her eyes. Through her hug, Harry saw the face of Ron before he felt his best friend's arms around him as well. Harry struggled. "Geroff, geroff, Mrs. Weasley! There's more than just me in these robes!" Mrs. Weasley and Ron both backed away, and led the way to the Kitchen. None of the rest of the family nor Moody said a word, they merely sat at the kitchen table, staring at one another. Harry felt the three mice squirming around in his pockets. Moody spoke first. "Well, we got him in time. Just barely, by the look of it." Mrs. Weasley let out a wail, and put her face in her hands. "We could have lost him, it was almost too late, if we'd not gotten the warning from Figgy..." Mr. Weasley, looking a bit paler from his wife's words, reached an arm out and drew his wife into an embrace. "There, there, Molly, he's here, he's safe..." Harry was looking at each face individually. Fred and George seemed to be in mostly high spirits. Ron appeared as death warmed over, and Ginny's freckles looked almost brown from how pale she was. He cleared his throat. "So those were Death Eaters?" Moody grunted. "Aye, Potter. We got an owl from Mrs. Figg that two men in wizarding robes had been walking down Privet Drive for about half an hour. We drove down there, but by the time the car arrived, the Death Eaters had already gotten in the house. We heard you shouting while the car was sitting outside. I told Dumbledore you had it under control, but he would have none of it." Moody cleared his throat, and guestured to Harry's chest. "Why don't you let us meet the rest of the family, Potter?" Harry shifted, and brought out the three rats. He placed them on the floor, and Moody brought out his wand. "Finite Incantatem." Suddenly, Harry's Uncle, Aunt, and cousin were standing in Grimmauld Place. Uncle Vernon had a blood vessel throbbing on his forhead. His speech, however, was not as prominent. "How...why...what...right...rat..." Moody stood slowly, sizing up Vernon for the third time in two years. "Because it was the safest way to get you where we needed to go." Aunt Petunia stayed on the floor, rubbing her eyes. Dudley scrambled for the nearest corner, his hands on his buttocks. Uncle Vernon continued staring at Moody. "What right do you freaks have to turn me into a RODENT and pull my from my OWN HOUSE?" Harry, who felt quite queasy at the moment hearing his uncle screaming at Moody, and also becoming worried at the grin growing on the scarred face of the wizard, stood up quickly and stood between the two men. "Because if we hadn't, you would be dead right now." Vernon's fat face, already the shade of a ripe tomato, drained all color until he could have tied Nearly Headless Nick in a battle for Ghostliest Ghost. His hands came up to his tie, and smoothed out his jacket. Aunt Petunia stood slowly, but made no move towards the group of wizards staring at them. "That's right. Those people that you led into my ROOM were going to kill you as soon as they were done with me. So feel fucking lucky that Dumbledore showed when he did, or you wouldn't have this chance to thank Professor Moody and Mr. Weasley." Harry turned to his friends, his eyes falling on Ginny, then Ron. His brow furrowed a bit. "Where's Hermione?" Ron's eyes stared into Harry's for a moment, then moved to the table. His next words were choked out. "St. Mungo's. The Order didn't make it in time." The queasiness that had been building in Harry suddenly turned sevenfold, and he crumpled to the floor. He heard Mr. Weasley's voice saying "Get some water..." before the blackness overtook him and he knew no more. The trip to St. Mungo's didn't take long, and they walked through the window into the foyer. A gruff looking wizard took their wands and didn't give them back.
"It's the new security measures after the Ministry was finally convinced of Voldemort's return. You'll get them back when you leave."
Harry, who had never truly been without his wand except for his expulsion hearing last summer, was a bit nervous.
"What if Voldemort attacks the hospital and nobody has their wands?"
The security guard blanched at this. "I...I suppose the Healers still have their wands, and they know what they're doing, right? Besides, St. Mungo's un UnPlottable."
Harry, still feeling queasy, simply nodded. He was still uneasy about having his wand taken from him, but he supposed it was the best idea.
The receptionwitch motioned them to where Hermione's room was, tutting.
"She doesn't look good. You might want to get up there soon."
The eyes of Harry and Ron both widened considerably, and they left the rest of the group behind, except Ginny, who was almost right beside them. Several of the Healers and MediWitches scowled at them running through the corridors, but they paid no heed as they threw open the door to Hermione's private room and crowded in.
There were three beds. The one on the right was empty. The bed in the middle held Mrs. Granger, who was apparently sleeping, covered in bandages that hid almost all of her body.
The bed on the right held Hermione, who's bushy hair had lost it's curl and was starting to turn white, either from the scare during the attack or the potions the Healers were giving her. Harry, Ron, and Ginny moved to her bed first, where she was staring at the ceiling, apparently out of tune with the rest of the world.
Harry picked up her right hand and clutched it in his own, looking down at her. "Hermione. Hermione? It's Harry. Wake up, Hermione."
"She's got far too many potions in her to understand you, Mr. Potter."
They turned to see Professor Snape standing in the doorway, his usual scowl gone and replaced by something that wasn't exactly compassion, but wasn't exactly loathing, either. He took a few steps forward to the end of Hermione's bed and picked up her medichart.
"Ezran's Draught, Lightfellow's Oblivious Unction, Koressa Nightmar's Unfeeling Elixer....no, she will not awaken any time soon."
Snape placed the medichart back upon the end of the bed, and folded his arms as the three friends looked back on the girl in the bed.
"Professor...is there anything you can give her? To make her better?" Ginny's voice was cracking as she spoke, and she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe.
Snape's eyes betrayed him as they fell upon the little red-headed girl, and he blinked. "I can bring her back to consciousness, Ms. Weasley, but as for healing her, there are things even potions cannot do. The Healers still do not know what sort of spell she was hit with, even though her condition closely resembles the effect that Crucio had on the Longbottoms 16 years ago. But her condition continues to deteriorate. I can awaken her from this stupor, I believe, the stupor brought on by the potions but..."
"Do it, Severus."
Dumbledore walked into the room and stood to the left behind Professor Snape. The Potions Master nodded without turning and drew a small vial of vibrant blue potion from a pocket of his robes and uncorked it. Instead of placing it to Hermione's lips, he merely poured it on the girl's forhead, and it was absorbed quickly, not even spilling onto the pillow.
Hermione's eyes closed, then opened again, and she gasped as her back arched from the bed. She stayed in that position for a moment before she crashed back down onto the sheets, and she twisted left and right, as though fighting off someone.
"No! Not mum! Mum! NO!"
Harry, who had lost his grip on her hand, grasped it again as Ron took her right.
"Hermione! HERMIONE! It's us! It's Harry and Ron!"
Hermione's flailing stopped for a moment, and she looked back and forth to Harry and Ron, then her back arched again and she cried out.
"Professor!"
"Be calm, Mr. Potter. This is a side effect of the potion. It will be over soon."
Hermione flailed about a bit more, throwing her covers from her body, until she finally laid back in the bed and stared at Ron again.
"R...Ron?"
The redhead smiled, then collapsed into her chest, his sobs causing his whole body to shake. Harry let go of Hermione's left hand, and she placed it on Ron's head, running her fingers through his hair.
"It's okay, Ron, I'm here."
Harry took a step back, and bumped into Ginny, who was also crying. He felt a scrambling at his hand, and then her fingers intertwined in his as they both watched the two on the bed. Harry was fighting back his own tears.
Ron stood, wiping his face of tears, still holding Hermione's hand. "Mione...are you alright?"
Hermione's face fell, and she looked to Snape, and then to Dumbledore. Her own eyes began to well with tears as she spoke.
"The spell that I was hit with in the Department of Mysteries...never got to finish healing, Ron. When they attacked....when they..."
Her eyes widened, and then closed tightly as her hands moved to her abdomen, a short cry of pain coming from the bushy-haired brunette.
Dumbledore stepped forward. "It is alright, Ms. Granger. It is over, you may relax."
The aged wizard looked over his glasses to Snape, who nodded and drew another vial from his robes. The other three students looked at their Headmaster quizically.
"Ginny, Ron, please come with me."
Ron stood still for a moment, then looked back to Hermione. Her eyes had opened again, and she was looking at him, gripping his hand as though it were a lifeline. He leaned over and whispered something in her ear, then moved out the doorway quickly before anyone could see his face.
Harry felt Ginny let go of his hand, then heard Dumbledore mutter something before the door closed. Harry took Hermione's hand once more, looking to Professor Snape.
"What..what is going on?"
Snape didn't answer him, but merely moved to the other side of Hermione as he uncorked the vial.
"Ms. Granger, you know what you have to do. It will hurt, but it will be all over soon."
Hermione nodded, and looked to Harry.
"If this doesn't work, Harry..."
"If what doesn't work? What in the bloody hell is going on?"
Hermione squeezed his hand, which calmed him a bit. "Harry...during our third year, with the Time-Turner...do you remember that?"
Harry nodded, remembering how she seemed to appear at odd spaces and times when she shouldn't have been there, and the escape of Buckbeak and Sirius...
Hermione smiled, but it was a faded smile, tinged with pain. "It wasn't just classes I was going to."
She let go of Harry's hand, and closed her eyes. She cried out, her face squeezing together, but then suddenly on the bed sat a pheonix, fluffing its wings. It looked to Harry, and let loose a quavering note. Harry nodded, understanding.
"It will be quick, Ms. Granger. A few sips should do it."
The pheonix looked to Snape and nodded, then took a few drinks from the vial he proferred. She tipped her head back, letting the black liquid slide down her throat. She let loose one more quavering note, then suddenly flames enveloped her. They were gone as quickly as they had arrived, leaving only a small pile of soot and ashes on the bed.
"Goodbye, Ms. Granger."