Chapter 1: Brave New World

The air in the infirmary of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry shimmered with an ethereal light in the golden rays of the late afternoon. The atmosphere was still and quiet with a sense of peace that Hermione hadn't felt in many years. She had awoken minutes before to find herself alone, but healed, in a place she knew should be crawling with Death Eaters. Yet she felt safe enough. After all, if Death Eaters had taken her she doubted she would be safely bundled in a warm flannel nightgown and tucked into a comfortable bed.

On the other hand, it could be some kind of strange reverse psychological torture.

Hermione sighed. She could feel the stress of the last couple days in every bone in her body. She still couldn't bring herself to think about everyone she had seen fall in battle. Instead she clung desperately to the numbness her shock had created. Eventually she would need to get out of bed and find out what was going on but it was hard to move from the relative safety of her current position.

She looked around but couldn't see any other patients in the infirmary. In fact, it had a rather unused look to it, as though there hadn't been any injured through recently to create clutter. It was indeed a great contrast to how she had last seen the room. Due to the Dark Lord's increasingly violent attacks on the wizarding community, the infirmary had been starting to look ragged with nearly constant use. It was hard believe that Death Eaters had repaired the room simply to house her. Indeed, judging by her surroundings, her current predicament was becoming even more of a mystery.

Suddenly, Hermione heard the door at the end of the ward open. Craning her neck to look through the split in the curtain blocking her view she could make out the figure of a woman. Oddly enough, it appeared to be Madam Pomfrey, which would be impossible as she had been dead for two years. She was startled as the curtain was drawn back. Her shock increased as she could now clearly see the face to the nurse.

It was indeed Madam Pomfrey and she looked as flustered as Hermione felt. Clucking to herself she began to bustle around the bed only occasionally looking at Hermione disapprovingly and shaking her head. To say that it was disconcerting would be a major understatement. As it was, Hermione could only stare amazingly at the witch.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Madam Pomfrey turned her full attention on Hermione. She looked down at her, again with a disapproving air. "I will inform the Headmaster that you are awake," she began. "No doubt he will be down shortly to determine exactly who you are and what you are doing here." Her eyes searched Hermione's for a moment. She apparently did not like what she found because she simply huffed and walked into her office.

Hermione vaguely heard the office door slam as she pondered what the nurse had said. Who I am? As though they didn't know. She also wondered if it was Albus who Pomfrey had been referring to as Headmaster. Was it possible that he too was alive? Closing her eyes against the tears that were threatening to spill, Hermione could feel the anguish at the loss of the man she had come to respect as a father welling up inside of her.

She could remember the look on the Headmaster's face moments before the battle began, resolve mixed with the realization of the hopelessness inherent in their situation. She had never before seen that look on his face and it had scared her then. Now it simply served as a reminder of her losses. She sobbed quietly as she thought about those who were dead. Harry's demise had been almost unbearable. Not only as he had been their last hope against the Dark Lord but that he was the last of her friends still alive. It was a painful reminder of the darkness into which their world had fallen.

The most excruciating death, however, had been that of her husband. She knew that the odds had been against them both surviving the battle but she had held on to hope until the very end. Her last shreds of hope for any of them had been ripped away with the Killing Curse cast by Lucius Malfoy. She sobbed in earnest now as the memory of her husband's dead eyes mocked her.

With a start another memory of those eyes surfaced. After the Latere potion had activated she had felt a lurch. She was beginning to remember now what had happened before she had awoken to find herself in the infirmary. The memory was fuzzy but she could clearly remember having looked up after the light around her had dissipated into the eyes that she knew so intimately. Did that then mean that her husband was alive?

She could hardly dare to hope. More than likely it had been a hallucination on her part. Or, she reasoned, she could actually be dead and stuck in the infirmary for the afterlife. All in all, not very cheery thoughts.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Hermione looked around again. Pomfrey hadn't exited her office yet and Hermione was beginning to wonder if the "Headmaster" would ever show. She didn't have to wait long as the entrance to the infirmary opened again. She stilled, daring not to look in the direction of the door, both anxious and terrified to see who had entered.

When the curtain by her bed was once again opened Hermione almost screamed her joy. Standing before her, looking healthier than she had seen him in years, was Albus Dumbledore. Although there was no twinkle in his eyes Hermione felt relief at his presence. Her momentary feeling of euphoria quickly dissolved as the Headmaster's face grew cloudy. Rare were the instances in which Dumbledore became truly angry but Hermione could tell this was one of those times.

Gazing on her with a look that Hermione had trouble categorizing, although she knew it couldn't be good, Dumbledore sat down in the seat beside her bed.

"Well," he began cautiously. "Perhaps you would care to tell me just who you are and how you came to be in the dungeons last night." His tone brooked no argument.

Flustered, Hermione tried to formulate a response. Her mouth opened several times as she tried to say what was on her mind but nothing escaped. Her confusion at his question was evident and she remembered what Pomfrey had said moments ago.

Dumbledore simply sat patiently as Hermione struggled. Finally she looked into his eyes. "I have no idea." Dumbledore, although surprised at her reply, still said nothing. She knew that by looking him in the eyes that he would be able to see the truth behind her words. He was, after all, one of the most gifted Legilimens in the world. "Rather," she continued. "I know how I came to be in the dungeons, but how I came to be there without Malfoy and his goons I do not know. And I know who I am. My question is this: why you don't seem to know?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath as he seemed to consider his response. "I must admit that I don't quite understand what you are saying. Why would Draco Malfoy be in the dungeons with you?"

Hermione looked at him sharply. "Not Draco. His father. Lucius Malfoy. And his Death Eater lackeys. They were in the dungeons with me. I…" She trailed off as she saw the confusion in his eyes grow. "Why do you look so surprised?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Lucius Malfoy and all known Death Eaters have been dead for years. What game are you playing?" She was shaken by his demeanour. What was going on here?

Shakily she replied. "I don't know what's happening here." She could feel tears streaking down her face from her grief and the stress of this situation. "This room," she gestured at the beds surrounding her. "It's not like I remember. Poppy has been dead for years and you…" Again her voice seemed to desert her. "I saw you die. You and everyone else I knew and loved died in the last battle." The last was said in a whisper as she glanced at him. "I don't understand any of this." She finally let herself dissolve into tears. She'd been strong for so long but could no longer fight her emotions.

Dumbledore let her cry for a few minutes. Eventually her sobs subsided and Hermione furiously scrubbed at her face in an attempt to clear her tears. Gently, he laid his hand on her shoulder. Surprise evident in her features, she hesitantly looked up at Dumbledore. She could see the gentleness in his features that, until now, had seemed only a memory. Her relief at the sheer normality of the look calmed her further.

"I'm afraid then that I am at as much a loss as you, my dear. I had thought you a threat to this school but I am beginning to see that you clearly are not. Still, I must ask, who are you?"

Closing her eyes, Hermione sighed. She took a moment to compose herself before looking into his familiar blue eyes. "I'm Hermione Snape."