Disclaimer: Yes, I admit *holds up hands* I did do something of a play-on-words on the Oh, Henry advert that's been on TV in Canada (That's the only place that I've seen it). I'm sorry – it was irresistible!
Oh, and just in case you have amnesia – I blatantly do NOT OWN Lily/James Potter or anything else that you recognise. J. K. Rowling does. . . unfortunately. . .
AN: British / North American DictionaryPear-shaped – everything going wrong
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Unforgettable, In Every Way Part XV – In Which There is Bleariness~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
End of last chapter:
The bag's brown mass blocked my vision, it was so close now.Slowly and painfully, I moved my arm to try and shield my face. But halfway there, the shoulder socket popped, the pain sending me into blackness.
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I woke to a scream.
Not your ordinary, scared scream, or even an agonized scream. Nope, I woke to a blood curdling, heart- pumping, pulse-beating scream of frustration and annoyance.
"Ah… no reason for me to wake up then…" I groaned my own discordant sound of annoyance, rolled over and promptly went back to sleep.
My dear old father had always told me that I could even sleep through the Apocalypse and not show any inkling that I had been disturbed from my beauty rest. Petunia had said that I needed all the beauty sleep that I could get. Needless to say, I had not let her borrow my zit cream when hers ran out the following week - under suspicious circumstances… not that you heard that from me…
Again, I was jolted out of my sleep. This time by a cry of: "Oh, Harry!"
"Oh, Harry?" I repeated, dazed, "Oh, hungry," I moaned and sat up. I blinked sleep from my eyes and heard the rumbling from my neglected stomach. A sudden, sharp stab, like a bolt of lightning, flashed through my head as I tried to sit up. I clapped my hands to my eyes and firmly pressed, trying to ignore the pain until it went away.
"Young lady!" A female voice rapped from the other side of the room, "What do you think that you are doing out of bed? Get back in it - now! I will not see your kind disturbing one of purer –" The voice stopped sharply, then continued smoothly, like silk – for all a wickedly sharp knife was thinly concealed by it, "Now… dear… get back into bed and don't disturb the other…patients."
"Yes, Ma'am," a meek voice answered, and I could hear springs groaning and shifting as someone got back into the bed.
"Now, I don't want to hear a peep out of you. That goes for you too, Evans – not a sound you hear me? Or you will be feeling my wrath!"
The headache had not dissipated, but had receded back enough that I could open my eyes without having to worry that my head would explode. I looked across to where the voice originated from and was met by the cheerful sight of Madame Gilles, the Slytherin house Head. That just made my day to see her smiling and joyful face peering at me under an imposing black hat.
I surprised myself with that but of sarcasm.
"Evans!" her voice cut through my head, making me wince. "I asked you a question! Do you hear me? I do not want a sound – not even a whisper out of you! Did you understand that, Miss Evans?"
"As clear as crystal Madame Gilles," I replied, just wanting her to leave me in peace.
Madame. Gilles glared at me for one long, lasting moment and then turned and swept into her office. A trail of Slytherins followed in her wake, like little ducklings, their smirks grating on my worn nerves.
"Go and take a long walk off the edge of a short pier." I muttered, quietly glaring right back at them.
They were the Slytherins that you wouldn't get along with if you weren't in Slytherin. This type of Slytherin – they didn't care about anything except themselves and got their entertainment out of picking on and bullying others. I had learnt in Second Year how to never give them opportunities to shout abuse at me. And when they did – I had learnt the silence charm very quickly. It was another incentive, other than Laura's snores, of course, to make me want to memorise that charm.
"Why don't you go and roll in the mud – you love it so much, even your blood is contaminated with it." One of them sneered at me.
"Is that the best that you could think of – Malfoy?" I retorted with a wicked smile on my face. But inside I could feel a small - so very small - part of me feeling hurt, like it always did when one implied that I wasn't good enough. Or pure enough. "I'll give you an hour to think of a comeback, will I? Or perhaps two… you'll probably need all the time you can get."
"Come Crabbe, Goyle, Snape. We won't waste our time with things like her." Malfoy turned and swept into Madame Gilles' office.
"Oh, I'm sorry – did someone fart?" I glanced back at the girl, who was staring at me with wide eyes, and then to the Slytherins. "I could have sworn I heard something disgusting… oh! It stinks too… ew! That was certainly worse than a stink-bomb!"
Silence answered me and I knew that I had won.
The last person in – Snape - closed the door. He gave me a wane smile, conveying more in just that expression than he could have in an hour talking. I nodded back to him, before the door closed with a scraping and a click.
I sighed and turned slowly back to the other girl, trying not to move my head too much to avoid jarring.
"He could have been nice, you know," I observed to her about Snape, unnerved by her unblinking eyes and silence. "Before he fell in with that crowd, that is."
"Was- was that…"
"Snape?" I questioned, "Got it in a one-er." I quoted from Liz Oser.
"Oh Merlin…" the girl breathed, suddenly looking at everything around her – like the castle had taken a life of its own in the past few seconds.
I looked at where her gaze rested.
"I wouldn't disturb James if I were you. He's as grumpy as I am to be woken up – perhaps even grumpier, if that's possible. I only see him at breakfast and that's about a quarter of an hour after he was woken up…."
"James?" the girl asked weakly, looking as if she were about to faint.
"Yes?" A voice answered from the other bed. He sat up and swayed unsteadily in his upright position. It looked like he was about to topple over the side of the bed in any moment. I quickly slipped out from my quilts and trod across the cold wooden floor to his side. Propping him up against some pillows, I sat on the bed beside – just in case.
The girl clapped her hands over he mouth, her eyes quickly becoming the size of saucers.
"Um, are you ok?" James asked blearily, squinting without his glasses.
Time seemed to pause for a minute, before the girl was frantically searching for what seemed to be a necklace that had been around her neck. She seemed to have had no luck because she soon was looking on the table beside her and patting her pockets just to make sure.
"This can't be happening, this can't. I can't have lost it, I can't be here…" The girl muttered to her-self all the while.
I glanced over at James, who seemed to have finally found his glasses, and he was staring at her like she had lost her marbles. Or at east hit by a delirious curse.
"Should you call St. Mungo's, or should I?" he muttered to me, staring, almost fascinated at her.
"Don't be too hasty… she might have…. uh…"
"Severe traumatic disorder?"
"Not quite what I was looking for, but that'll do."
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"Lily! What the HELL did you think that you were – who is that?" Laura sprinted into the infirmary, but stopped short when she saw the unknown girl. The small carpet that she skidded on became a crumpled heap of folds of cloth at the foot of one of the unoccupied beds.
"Sh!" I motioned with my finger – indicating the closed door of the office. But it was too late.
The door was almost yanked off its hinges and then quickly closed, admitting an imposing nurse.
"50 points off Gryffindor! Detention for all of you for the next month and a half cleaning bedpans and scouring the infirmary from top to bottom! How dare you –"
"Actually, that question that Miss Janson posed is exactly what I was about to ask myself," a calm voice interrupted from the doorway. Headmaster Dumbledore glided down the aisle between the beds.
"Headmaster." Madame Gilles gritted out between clenched teeth. "These students," her tone of voice indicated how low she thought of us, "interrupted a very delicate meeting that I was having with some of my Slytherins…"
"I'm sure that detention and points deducted will not be necessary, and I will ensure that the conversation that will take place will not further interrupt your meeting. I am sure that your Slytherins will not be in the least put off by us and I appreciate your concern for the well being of your patients. Now, you must not keep them waiting…" He turned his back to her and paused as the door swished.
"I would appreciate privacy, Phillipa…"
The door clicked shut, and Dumbledore flicked his wand, the room becoming encased in a hazy, shimmery substance. Instead of letting my eyes go out of focus as I stared at the effect, I fixed my gaze on the Headmaster.
"Who, young lady, might you be?" The Head questioned from where he sat, his sparkling eyes looking at her.
"I can't say." She stated, biting her lip and looking for all that she was about to burst into tears.
"Come now child, I will need to know your name so that I can send you back."
"You, you don't know my name? But Headmaster – send me back?! But how did you know that I…" The girl sat bolt upright, suddenly looking that there may be a spark of hope after all.
"Do you feel slightly out of the circle?" I questioned James in soft tones. His head jerked a reply before he winced in pain at the movement.
"How did I know that you were from the future?" Dumbledore continued, ignoring our shocked gasps, "There is no need to be worried that this will change time more than it was supposed to." He told the girl, who had looked fearfully at the three of us.
"Um, I… well. Yes."
"That question is quite easy, really," he told us, pausing for breath, "I have never seen you in my life before this."
I rocked back from where I had unconsciously leaned forward. What an anti-climax! Gathering from the shocked faces of James, Laura and the girl, we had all expected a mind-boggling, reality-reeling, spell, incantation or at least pure genius from such a wise wizard as Dumbledore.
"Hermione Granger." Hermione stated simply, a great burden lifted off her shoulders.
"You are not alone now." Dumbledore greeted her, "The only question is where you will be sleeping during your stay with us."
"She can sleep in my bed." I offered, the suggestion being torn from my throat before I had even thought about it, let alone the consequences.
"Um, ya! She can sleep on our dorm, I'm sure Katriona and Anya won't mind." Laura added.
"That is a very generous suggestion, Miss. Evans, but though you may give Miss Granger the Gryffindor password, her face would have had to have been recognised by the Sorting Hat on her first day to let her to any of the common rooms. A rather ingenious, but annoying spell laid on all the entrances to common rooms I am afraid. This does not leave us with many options."
"What? I don't remember hearing about that…" I muttered.
"Pollyjuice gets around the charm…" James whispered back, causing me to wonder how on earth he had come to possess that knowledge. I shot a suspicious glance at him. He grinned back at me. I also noticed out of the corner of my eye that Dumbledore also looked amused, a sparkle in his eye.
"Well… I'm a Gryffindor, Headmaster. Would that ah… be sufficient?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, indeed, it would. Now that this has been sorted, I will get into contact with as many people as I can to try to find how to send you back to where you belong." He smoothly stood up and started to make his way to the swinging doors of the infirmary, removing the silencing spell as he went.
"You mean, Headmaster, that you don't know how to get me back?" Hermione squeaked, her face draining of its colour.
"Not yet, although I am hopeful. In the mean time, I suggest that you get settled in and perhaps pursue the cure to this as well. Oh, and Mr Potter, Gryffindor did indeed win the match after you were taken to the infirmary. There seemed to have been some confusion as to whose team Mr Malfoy was on – his robes turned crimson halfway through the match and he was pounded quite thoroughly by Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle before they realised who he was. Quite and ingenious spell, don't you think, Mr Potter?"
James opened his mouth to protest his innocence, but the Headmaster did not let him get a word in.
"Although as you saw, Mr Malfoy has since been restored to full health by Madame Gilles. If only she took as much care of her other patients as she does her Slytherins." He mused, passing the second-to-last bed, "Good day Mr Potter, Miss Evans, Miss Granger and Miss Janson." With that, he disappeared. One second he was there – the next he wasn't. The swinging doors of the infirmary not even moving in the slightest bit on their hinges.
"Hey! What the?" James blurted, starting. Again, I quickly grasped his swaying shoulder, my bare feet freezing on the cold wooden floor.
"Did he just… disapparate?" Laura asked, looking around the room as if she could see Dumbledore lurking in the corners… or behind a tapestry, or underneath a bed.
"Oh, don't talk nonsense!" Hermione snapped, emerging from beneath her covers and sitting on her bed, "If you had read 'Hogwarts, A History', you would know that it is impossible to apparate, or disapparate within Hogwarts grounds!"
"Then how would you explain that?" I questioned.
"Well, I… I – I'm sure that there is an explanation. As I said before, it is impossible to apparate -"
"Or disapperate on Hogwarts grounds." Laura, James and I chorused in monotonous tones, "We know!"
"Well, in that case, why don't you-"
"Anyway…" Laura interrupted. There was one moment of silence in which I grinned in relief, before Laura rounded on me, "How could you do that to us!?"
"What?!"
"You made us get up one hour and a half to put make-up on you and Kerr didn't see you!"
"At six-thirty? For make-up? Lily, you slave driver!" James looked at me with shock.
"For your information," I informed them tartly, "It was definitely NOT my idea to get up at six-thirty! Now let's get out of the infirmary and back to Gryffindor so that we don't have to spend the night in this ghastly place."
I sat on the bed to put my shoes and socks on, my feet burning from their encounter with the cold floor. Hermione also put her shoes on and slipped down from her bed, making her way to the doors with Laura leading. James hadn't moved.
"I never knew that you liked the infirmary and Madame Gilles' 'Reign of Terror' so much James."
"Under normal circumstances, I would be out of here faster than you could ever be. But I have one slight problem."
"Come on James!" Laura hissed from the other end, remembering that Madame Gilles and her Slytherins could probably now hear us since Dumbledore had removed his silence spell.
"What would that problem be?"
"I can't actually move without feeling physically sick and the room swaying." It looked like he had made a large effort just to tell me that. I knew that boys hated to admit weakness to someone.
I removed my wand and muttered, "Mandicar anima vigar," then grabbed James by the wrist and almost dragged him out of his bed and all the way to the common room. Before he could even open his mouth, I shoved him a good way up the Boy's Dormitory's stairs. Turning around, I was face to face with Kerr.
"Why weren't you at the Quiddich match?" he demanded, anger burning in his eyes, "You're my girlfriend and you're expected to support me!"
Support me? The phrase echoed in my mind, but I couldn't place it. Support?
"And you were seen with James Potter! How could you do that to me? Do you know what you've done to my reputation? People think that –"
"Why didn't you visit her in the hospital wing?" Laura demanded coming up behind me, Hermione on my other side, flanking and supporting me.
"The hospital wing? What were you doing in the hospital wing?" Kerr demanded, his eyes narrowing.
"What do you think she was doing?" Hermione shot back, glaring at him, "The hospital wing is where injured people are taken to."
"Injured? What were you doing injured?" He accused.
"Just go NOW, before I hex you to Hell and back!" Laura roared, shoving him away from us and pointing her wand threateningly at him. He went up the boy's stairs, glaring until he was out of sight, "Bastard," Laura muttered.
Hermione made a sound to suggest that she strongly disapproved of that type of language, but she didn't say anything to that effect. Instead, she asked: "Lily's going out with him?"
"Talk over me as if I wasn't here, why don't you?" I swayed on the spot, the room seeming too hot and too crimson, colours and light parading across my vision.
"Ya," Laura agreed, not noticing that I had spoken at all, "More the fool us for trying to get them together."
"But I thought… did she ever go out with James?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
"James? Lily go out with James? James is one of the Gryffindor Quiddich stars and he's also one of the Marauders." Her tone showed what she thought of them, "Ha! Why would Lily want to go out with a guy that… defended her against her boyfriend and always helped her in Transfigurations? Oooo! Ooooooooo! James… I never thought about that. Now that I am thinkimg of it…"
I turned and flopped down onto the sofa, pleasant surprise that it was unoccupied slowly making its way through my exhausted brain. I could not move any further and it quickly proved to be too much of an effort to even keep my eyes open. The sounds and bustle of the common room quickly faded to a soothing buzzing noise, but two voices I could hear clearly.
"Oh! Lily? Are you alright?" Hermione gasped, quickly checking on me, "Nothing seems wrong… but why did she just collapse like that?"
"Oh, it was from the spell that she cast in James… munimen protect" Laura muttered over the couch that I rested on. Defence Against the Dark Arts had always been her strongest subject, her favourite being the 'Invisibly Protect' spell.
"Will she be alright?" Hermione asked in hushed tones.
"It's just a side effect of the spell that she cast." Laura answered, trust Laura to notice what incantation I had used.
"I had never heard of it before. It sounded like a variation on the healing spell, but then there was one part that was very different," Hermione said, their voices growing dimmer as they moved away, "What book was it in?"
Laura laughed, "Of course you wouldn't have heard of it before! Lily made it herself back in Year Three."
"She made a spell herself!" Hermione gasped, awed, "And it even works!"
"It has its side effects though. She's a bright cookie, that one," Laura agreed.
"Side effects?"
I wanted to scream that I was a thick as a plank of wood, but I didn't seem to have the energy to even open my eyelids.
"Not that she'd believe it even if you told her - Lily's convinced that she's as thick as a plank of wood." She either is telepathic. . . or she knows me too well, I mused, "I bet that she could give Professor Wells a run for her position if Lily had more confidence – the Charms professor and head of Gryffindor. I need to have to have a talk with you about that time stuff… I just don't get it. How can you have come back in time? Wouldn't you have to alter time? But if you altered time – what if your parents didn't meet? Would you just cease to exist? And would we remember you if you did? But what if you did keep existing? Does that mean that when you -"
"Side effects?" She questioned again, this time more forcefully.
"Oh, sorry. But the spell that she cast has its drawbacks, as you can see."
"You mean the sleepiness," Hermione realised as their voiced faded out as they climbed the stairs, "Did she give some of her energy to Harr- James so that he healed?"
"More than that, Hermione, she gave him some of her life force."
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Ok, that was a bit of a dramatic – and cheesy – ending. I will try to deny the small part of me that wants to keep doing those endings!
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THANKS TO ALESSE SUNDANCER AND ULTRAVIOLET-PERIWINKLE FOR BETA READING IT AND TRYING TO MAKE MY FEEBLE ATTEMPTS AT HERMIONE EVEN THE REMOTEST BIT IN CHARACTER!
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