I'm not particularly happy with the quality of this chapter, I was at a loss as to how to start it, and I really struggled to finish it. Experience tells me that when that happens, I produce substandard work. On a happier note, this chapter answers the big question: "Who's Mel?" and some other smaller, but equally frustrating questions. I'm also aware that readers have wanted Hermione to kick Severus' butt, and I'm very sorry to disappoint. That part of the story is still a long way off. Anyway, my most sincere thanks to all the reviewers. Without you, this story would probably never be completed, but I can really see myself finishing the whole thing now.
Disclaimer: Everything here belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Mel"Because you're not worthy of it, and because I love another woman."
The words, spoken so softly, nevertheless reverberated around the room. Hermione stood still, frozen in her shock. The extent of her own naivety, thinking that their problems could be solved with a snap of her fingers, hit her like a particularly strong stunning spell. Choking back a sob, Hermione wrenched herself away from her husband and fled through the door of their chambers.
Severus bared his teeth into the grin of an evil cat that has gotten the cream, and reached for the abandoned copy of potions journal. He looked forward to a night of solitude, free from the drama queen that was his wife, completely disregarding the fact that his own theatrical performance would have roused a standing applause.
Hermione ran. Blinded by her tears, she did not give a second thought to her bearings; her current concern lie with the gap between herself and her husband, and she wanted it to be as big as she could make it. She fled down a flight of stairs at the end of the deserted dungeon corridor. Had Hermione been her normal, calm self, she would have realised that the dungeons were situated at the lowest part of the castle; by right, there should not be any more stairs leading deeper under the magical building. However, in her distress, she had forgotten that, as well as two of the most important unwritten rules of Hogwarts, usually ignored by students at their own peril. The first of which Harry, Ron and herself had found out in their first year at Hogwarts—if you see a corridor that looked abandoned, get out of there before Fluffy gets you, and the second of which she had constantly repeated to Neville—watch your trick stairs.
An unknown corridor combined with the possibility of trick stairs was a recipe for disaster, and by rushing down the strange stairs at full speed; Hermione made herself the main ingredient. A flash of bright light filled the empty space and with a loud boom! Hermione felt herself being thrown forcefully back up the stairs. It had felt like an eternity before her body finally met with some resistance and she slammed into a solid wall. Sliding onto the ground, Hermione registered an unbearable pain in her lower body before darkness overwhelmed her.
Hermione slowly returned to consciousness, and had an uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched. She tried to push herself into a sitting position, but closed her eyes in intense concentration when she discovered that her arms were shaking violently and could not support the weight of her body. She felt eternally grateful that a pair of strong hands had grasped her and helped her up. Hermione muttered her thanks.
"No problems, child," said a voice that Hermione registered as Professor Dumbledore's. "How are you feeling?"
At the headmaster's innocent concern for her wellbeing, the memory of Snape's words flooded back, and she started sobbing to Dumbledore. "He was s-so angry…he said h-he wouldn't love me because I wasn't worthy." Hermione gulped down some air and continued, "h-he wouldn't love me, and I had wanted to tell him about our b-baby." Hermione stopped there, thinking that it was a perfectly adequate explanation for her current situation, since Dumbledore knew about the nature of their relationship. Hell, the whole school knew that Professor Snape and her were as compatible as Malfoy with Buckbeak.
However, Dumbledore appeared to be unsatisfied by her explanation. His brows furrowed in the slightest hint of confusion. "Do go on," he pressed her lightly.
Hermione then gave him an account of the flight down the stairs, omitting the mention of the reason behind it. "There was a bright light and something pushed me back up the stairs. I hit a wall and I think I blacked out after that," Hermione finished, feeling slightly more composed after recounting almost everything to the old man.
Professor Dumbledore was silent for a while, and Hermione waited patiently for the advice that she was positive the headmaster would provide. When he finally spoke, Hermione wished he hadn't.
"Well, my dear, I don't know whether you were aware of this or not, but the stairway that you just described was not one of the normal Hogwarts trick stairs. I presume you are familiar with Hogwarts? (Hermione nodded, but frowned at his odd choice of words) So, you would know about the stairs. It just so happens that this particular stairway only appears once every few centuries. It's just your misfortune that it chose this time to materialise, just when you were distressed and looking for a way to escape your, shall we say, problems."
Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself. Alright, so it's the stairs again. However, sensing that there were more to the current situation than Dumbledore had let on, she ventured, "And?"
"And what this stairway does is that it sends people back in time." He paused to let Hermione absorb the implication of that statement.
Not right at all. But then, it's only time-travelling, isn't it? Hermione was pretty sure she was capable of handling this. She had travelled back in time before. Everything will be fine. Hermione broke off her train of thoughts and surprised herself with her non-existent reaction to everything that had happened so far.
"And the year is?"
Dumbledore obliged her with the answer and she gave a small bark of laughter, bitterly, of course. "Just wonderful, Professor. Somewhere out there, a four-year-old me am probably running around the house naked. I should probably just to and tell her who I am, and ask her to not make the mistakes I made. Would that solve my current problem, do you think?"
To that Dumbledore replied, "If that's the case, I think that it would probably be best for you to stay at Hogwarts. If would be safer for everyone if you stay out of the sight of as many people as you can."
Hermione heard the slight sting in Dumbledore's words, and she shook her head in self-reproach. "I didn't mean that, you know, when I said I wanted to change time." She suddenly turned businesslike, and expressed her need for something to occupy her time for the duration of her stay.
"That's fine. I can talk to the professors in the school, I'm sure that at least one of them would need an assistant. Would you like to do that? You could take on the identity of a graduate from Beauxbatons looking for job at Hogwarts. Come up with a name for yourself, and introduce yourself to us later."
Hermione smiled without humour, feeling that the idea of having to reintroduce herself to people she already knew sounded like a depressing job, "I'd like that. Thank you, Professor."
"Before I go, there's one other thing I need to discuss with you."
"Yes?"
Dumbledore's voice when he answered her held the most compassion she had ever heard from anyone, and it comforted her. At the same time, she had read the pity in his eyes, and Hermione braced herself for the worst.
"When you were thrown into our time two days ago, you hit the stone wall outside my office hard. I came out and found you unconscious and bleeding heavily. My dear, I am so sorry, but you've lost your baby."
Hermione had gone rigid even before Dumbledore finished his sentence. Her world had come to a grinding halt, the high-pitched screech scratching at her heart. Hermione was astonished at her own composure; surely she still had tears left in her for the baby? Hermione felt alone for the longest time. Where were her best friends when she needed them? She had never missed their absence as keenly as she did now.
Dumbledore offered to put off introducing her to the staff until she had fully recovered. Hermione wanted to agree, but a small, logical part of her, unaffected by the pain currently coursing through her body knew that she needed the distraction that an occupation would provide. Otherwise, she would die, withering away like a plant in a pot in desperate need of sustenance.
Dumbledore acknowledged her decision with a nod of his head. He quietly informed the fragile girl sitting stiffly on the hospital bed that he would be back in an hour.
Hermione lied back down on the bed, all the emotions she had felt since two days ago had left her, leaving her strangely numb. How had it all come to this?
Professor Dumbledore closed the door to the Hospital Wing. Taking out his wand, he muttered an incantation that would cause the wands of all his teachers to vibrate slightly, informing them of their required presence in his circular office. There was an hour of leisure time for the staff and students before dinner, the teachers would waste no time in attending his summons.
By the time he reached his office, the teachers were already there. Dumbledore chuckled to see Minerva McGonagall arguing with his stone gargoyle, for despite having given the correct password (sugar quills), the gargoyle had adamantly refused the teachers entry to his office, saying that since the headmaster was not there anyway, everyone else could stand out here for all he cared. Dumbledore shooed the stone guardian aside and ushered his irritated deputy into his office, followed by the rest of the teachers.
Once inside, Dumbledore wasted no time on pleasantries. He briefed the teachers on the nature of the new 'staff's' duties, and asked them for a volunteer to take the new girl under their wing. There was a sudden burst of chatter, as his teachers started an intense debate as to who among them would need her assistance the most. Soon, it became apparent to Dumbledore that the majority of them had decided that the Potions master would really benefit from extra help, seeing as he was the youngest and most inexperienced teacher in the school. Severus scowled at the implication that he was incompetent, and Dumbledore watched serenely as his polite, but firm refusal of the offer was cut off by Minerva loudly congratulating the Potions master on his luck. She then nodded at Dumbledore and swept regally out of his office, followed by the other teachers after they have happily shook Severus' hand. Dumbledore inclined his head at her retreating back, wondering whether Professor McGonagall was sometimes the greater authority than himself. He really must talk to his gargoyle about the consequences of annoying his deputy.
As the last of the teachers left his office, Severus turned to face Dumbledore. "Headmaster, I really do not need an assistant."
Dumbledore threw his hands up in defence, "I never said you did, Minerva did."
"I don't want an assistant."
"Tell that to Minerva."
Severus glared at Dumbledore, knowing that if he could not convince the headmaster, he would never convince McGonagall. Dumbledore took it as a sign that he had unwilling backed down from the argument. "Let's go meet her." He swept his hand at the door and it opened. "After you."
Severus gave the old man another dirty look before vanishing through the door in a swish of his black robes.
Hermione stayed on the bed for the better part of an hour, wondering what turns her life would take now. What would Harry and Ron do when they realise she was missing? Would they rush off on some misguided rescue mission and land themselves in trouble again? Her thoughts turned to her baby, so recently lost. She was ecstatic when a little part of her dreams had come to fruition; she did not have a husband who loved her, but she would have showered all her love on they baby, and the baby would love her in return. Now her dreams would never be. Hermione felt slightly relieved that she had never had to tell her husband about her miscarriage. Her month-old pregnancy had not lasted long, it was as if it had never been. Her husband would probably have sneered at her inability to carry a child to term. Luckily for her, she would not have to deal with his sarcasm in this time. A break away from his presence would probably do her more good than harm.
Hermione sighed and got off the bed. She should really do something about the identity she was going to assume. Dumbledore had allowed her an hour, and three quarters of it had already passed. Hermione looked at herself critically in the mirror. She was not an overly attractive girl. Surely she could change that now? No one here knew who she was, and the only other person apart from the headmaster to have seen her would be Pomfrey, assuming of course, that the matron had been at Hogwarts for the past thirteen years. Hermione retrieved her wand from her discarded school robes and silently praised Lavender and Parvati for their foresight when they had insisted that Hermione learned the simple charms they have invented. Hermione never thought the two girls had enough brain cells between them to even think beyond what a crystal ball could show them, but surprisingly, their appearance-enhancing charms could make even Grawp look like a gentleman.
She pointed her wand at her hair and muttered the incantation. Instantly, her bushy hair untangled themselves and lay straight and silky. Thinking that she still looked Hermione-like, Hermione severed off her long locks. She was pleasantly surprised at the difference it made; her face looked younger. She waved her wand again; Hermione really wanted to see herself as a brunette. If only the boys could see me now, she giggled to herself.
Hermione studied the colour of her eyes carefully in the mirror. They were an intense shade of golden-brown. She carefully pointed the tip of her wand at her eyes in turn and whispered another spell that Lavender had taught her. When she looked into the mirror again, a pair of sapphire orbs, speckled with flecks of green, twinkled back at her. Hermione was sure she would be unrecognisable now, but she took a crumpled piece of paper from her robes and transfigured them into a pair of glasses, just for precaution. Putting them carefully onto the bridge of her nose, Hermione smiled at her reflection. "I look good!" She declared.
"You look like a nerd," retorted the mirror.
Hermione was still basking in the glow of her success when the door to the infirmary opened. She whirled around to smile at Dumbledore and gasped as she recognised the person standing behind him.
Professor Dumbledore had started to speak, but Hermione was oblivious to what he was saying. She was still staring at Professor Snape with barely concealed horror. Miraculously, Dumbledore seemed to have missed her reaction, but Severus had noticed. He mentally rolled his eyes as the young girl in front of him visibly recoiled from him. Severus had not thought that his reputation would spread beyond London, but obviously, it did, if the reaction from the new French girl was anything to judge by.
Hermione felt her heart stop when she saw her husband entering the infirmary. No, not her husband, she reminded herself. We are strangers to each other in this time. She was suddenly aware of Snape's outstretched hand, and she willed her composure intact. He was introducing himself as 'Severus', and had said a few awkward words of welcome. Then, there was silence.
Belatedly, Hermione realised that the two men were waiting for her to introduce herself. Panicking, she came up with the first name that popped into her mind.
"Mel. My name is Mel."