AN: I'm so glad you guys have enjoyed this - I've loved seeing your reviews. Fills me up with Christmas spirit. Here's the second chapter. :) xxx
Ron and Harry arrive at Diagon Alley to deal with the disturbance and Ron ends up taking on far more than he'd planned.
It had taken a few years, but Diagon Alley had finally reverted back to how it was before the war.
The streets were always bustling with shoppers and every shop had an owner again. There was an unspoken agreement that the inhabitants would ensure the street stayed brighter and cheerier than ever before, almost as if they were trying to erase the dark years previously and Christmas was no exception to this rule.
Every store was kitted out with sparkling lights, streamers and moving Christmas scenes painted in the windows. Staff were dressed as elves, Santas and fairies and Christmas songs belted out of speakers placed at the top of each lamppost. Even the light dusting of snow on the cobblestone pavement only served to make the street look more festive.
It didn't take the pair long to locate the disturbance; a large group of witches and wizards were crowded outside Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Ron threw a withering look at Harry before pressing forward through the crowd.
"Okay, okay – go back to your shopping or whatever else you were doing please everybody!" He weaved his way through the nosey shoppers, who were packed together tightly in their attempts to see what was going on. When he finally made it to the shop, he was greeted by his twin brothers, Fred and George.
"Oh look, Fred – it's the Grinch!" George Weasley held his arms out for his younger brother, a mischievous look on his face.
"It's about time you showed up Ronniekins…" Fred smirked. "Have you come to steal Christmas?"
"Shut up you two, I'm trying to work…" Ron scowled and pushed George's arms aside.
"Well, so were we but it seems our new friend has other ideas…" George nodded towards a young, bushy-haired witch who was currently pacing the small area outside the shop entrance, muttering to herself and wringing her hands. "She's scaring off our customers…"
Ron slowly approached the girl, trying to understand her incoherent babbling. She seemed distressed and was almost turning blue from the cold. Her dress, although it was floor length and buttoned to her chin, looked made out of the thinnest of materials and the robe draped over her shoulders didn't look to be much thicker. Neither item of clothing looked to be enough to protect her from the British Winter.
"You could have at least taken the poor girl inside…" Harry commented as he finally caught up with Ron.
"Oh we tried, dear brother-in-law, but she refused. She wouldn't even take the blanket we offered her. Every time we got her near to the door, she freaked out and tried to run away. The best we could do was to keep everyone away from her, just in case…"
Ron took the blanket that George held out and stepped carefully towards the witch. Now that he was closer to her, he could see that she was around his age, with olive skin and wide brown eyes that looked full of fear. For a moment, he was dumbstruck – how the hell could Masters hurt someone so small and pretty? It made his stomach churn with anger just at the thought of it.
"Hello? Uhm Miss? I'm Auror Weasley. Me and my partner Harry have come here to try and help you. Do you know your name?"
The sound of a new stranger's voice startled the witch and she stopped tracing her small path back and forth through the snow. She regarded the man briefly, a frown appearing on her face.
"Of course I know my own name!" She moved her hands to her hips, her stance wide and strong and Ron thought she could probably be a force to be reckoned with when she was in her right mind. It was striking and scary.
"And it's…?" Ron knew he was sounding impatient, but he was desperate for new information about Masters; he didn't have the time to waste on trying to persuade this witch into giving him something as simple as her name.
"It's Professor Granger if you must know."
"Okay, Professor Granger. Do you know where you are?"
The witch looked around at her surroundings, never knowing she could feel so familiar about a place and yet like she was somewhere she'd never been before.
"It looks to be Diagon Alley, but it's just not right…" She concentrated on something further up the road. "The shops aren't the right ones, there are far too many people here…"
"Well, you're right about Diagon Alley at least. Do you want this blanket? You look cold." Ron offered the blanket to Professor Granger, who eyed it suspiciously for a moment before taking it gratefully and wrapping it around her shoulders. Ron started wandering back towards Harry.
"Maybe she's been confounded. It's a common side-effect of the curses Masters likes to use. We should probably take her in?"
"Take me where?!" Professor Granger started to back away from the two Aurors, looking startled once again.
"Miss… I mean, Professor Granger, please calm down…" Harry drew his wand, hoping that the sight of it would be enough to placate her but instead it had the opposite effect. Before he knew it, the witch had drawn her own wand and was continuing her retreat from the pair.
"I… I need to get back to Hogwarts. I have classes to teach in the morning. I must go…"
The witch turned quickly on the spot in an attempt to apparate back to where she came from but instead of disappearing, a gash of blood appeared on her uncovered lower arm.
"Shit… she's splinched herself…" Ron shot forward quickly, managing to grab the witch before she hit the floor. "We better get her to St. Mungo's…"
Harry nodded to confirm he'd heard Ron. He made sure he had a firm grip on the two of them before turning carefully on the spot and apparating them directly to the magical hospital.
When Hermione finally woke up, she was lying in a single, narrow bed and covered in a crisp sheet. She spotted her dress and robes folded neatly at the end of the bed and panicked briefly before realising she'd been dressed in a scratchy short gown. She tentatively lifted her arm and was relieved to find it hadn't been tied down, although it throbbed greatly under the white bandage covering it. Slowly, she tested her other limbs and, satisfied that she wasn't being held captive, she finally let out a small sigh. The last thing she needed right now was to be held as a prisoner.
Above her head hovered a bright light, stronger than anything magical she was used to. Staring at it too long made her eyes burn, but yet she was strangely attracted to it. She wanted to learn all about the magic that created such a bright glow. She eventually turned her head when it's glare got too much and was startled to see a lanky, ginger man with a thick auburn beard sat in the chair next to her bed.
"Oh hullo, you're awake finally!" The man gave her a warm smile, although it did nothing to make Hermione feel better. He was wearing what looked to be a military uniform unlike anything she'd seen before, and the top buttons of his robes were undone. He didn't even seem to be wearing a tie and his outdoor robes were flung haphazardly on the chair beside him. Hermione felt a bit startled, but also curious as to what sort of place she'd ended up in where the men dared to dress so casually, especially in front of a woman.
"Who are you? Where am I?" She tried to sit up and immediately regretted her decision as the room started spinning. She fought desperately against the rising urge to vomit, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm her stomach but it was no good. Luckily, the man seemed to realise she was fighting a losing battle against her nausea and a paper bowl was thrust into her hands time in time to catch the results.
As soon as she finished throwing up, the man lifted his wand and vanished it. It was almost like nothing had happened, at least to him. Hermione felt the hot burn of shame creep up her face and she forced her eyes open again, her cheeks burning bright red.
"I'm ever so sorry…" She avoided eye contact with him as she wiped her mouth with the edge of the sheet on her bed.
"Oh don't worry about it…" The man waved a hand dismissively. "At least you got it all in the bowl. You wouldn't believe the number of times I've been thrown up on and it takes forever to get vomit out of the uniform! I'm Ron, by the way…"
He leaned forward and offered Hermione his hand. Hermione eyed it suspiciously before realising she was being incredibly rude, especially as so far, he'd been incredibly helpful. She placed her hand in his and shook it loosely. He looked friendly enough, she thought, although she had always been suspicious of an unfamiliar man acting pleasant with her; in her limited experience, it usually meant they were after something.
"You were in quite a stat when we got to you. I take it you're not from around here?"
"It depends where here is…" Hermione answered dryly as she sat back in the bed. "I'm almost certain I was in Diagon Alley. It seemed so familiar to me but yet nothing was right. I only visited just before school started, surely it couldn't have changed that much in the matter of a few months?"
"When you say school; do you mean Beauxbatons? Or perhaps Ilvermorny?"
Hermione scoffed at Ron's ridiculous question. Although she had heard of those schools, she also knew that they were far away and international travel was rare, even for witches and wizards. Why would she be in London if she lived abroad?
"No, of course not. I teach at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm the potion master. Why would I be from anywhere else?"
"Well, that's the question isn't it?" Ron scratched his chin thoughtfully. "My partner got in touch with Hogwarts and all their staff have been accounted for, even Snape…" Hermione thought she spotted an ugly sneer flit across Ron's face but it soon disappeared.
"Harry even checked specifically for a Professor Granger but the last time someone of that name taught at the school was in 1892, although apparently she vanished in peculiar circumstances."
Hermione felt her stomach take a nose-drive and for a moment, she thought she was going to be sick again. So her potion had misfired and the results were absolutely catastrophic. But what did that mean for her? If there was no evidence of her after 1892, did that mean she was dead? Was she a ghost right now? Hermione shook the absurdity out of her head. Dead people don't throw up or lie in hospital beds talking to incredibly casually dressed men. What was going to happen to her?
She felt her breath catch in her throat. Ron was still speaking, but she couldn't hear what he was saying over the sound of her blood rushing through her ears. She couldn't breathe and if she weren't already dead, she was pretty sure she was now on her way to those pearly gates. Did witches even get to go to heaven?!
"It's okay, it's going to be fine. I'll sort this out, I promise!" For the second time in less than 10 minutes, Ron realised something was wrong with Hermione. He conjured a paper bag out of nowhere and passed it to her. "Take deep breaths…"
She did as she was told, counting each breath as she held the bag over her mouth. Soon enough she found herself calming down and Hermione wondered if Ron had a second career as a healer. It took her a while, but Hermione finally sunk back into the bed although when she let the paper bag drop to her side, Ron spotted a tear tracing its way down her cheek.
"What happened to me? If this is not 1892, then when is it?" She turned her head back towards Ron.
"Well, that's the thing. You just appeared in Diagon Alley. According to my brothers, you took one look around then started to panic: grabbing shoppers off the street and yelling weird questions at them. Also, it's 2008; although there's not much of the year left."
Suddenly Hermione started to remember her behaviour in the street and her cheeks once again grew bright red in shame. A moment of realisation hit her and Ron could see it travel over her face.
"I was in my potions room; I was trying to create a Christmas present for my students. Tomorrow is the last day of school you see, or it was…" She paused briefly as if to think then shook the thought out of her head. "They've had a rough year. I wanted to make them a Cheering potion and of course, I had to try it on myself first – I can't just give untested potions to the children…"
"Of course not…" Ron almost flinched at the scowl Hermione threw at him as he dared to interrupt her.
"Then Albus came to see me. Oh, he's such a lovely student. He's going to be so upset when he hears the potion didn't go as planned." She sighed heavily. "I drank the vial in one go and then all of a sudden, I was in Diagon Alley and well, you know the rest. I really need to get back home. It's Christmas and I'll be missed. I don't even know where to start though…"
Ron eyed Hermione thoughtfully. Maybe this was the distraction from his casework he needed. He was getting nowhere with them, so maybe he needed to reset his brain. After a break, he might be able to see them from a different angle and make headways on them. Maybe even Hermione will be able to help him, the girl seemed intelligent enough. He nodded to himself then started to get out of his chair.
"I said I'll help you and I'm a man of my word. Why don't I go and see if you can be discharged?" He started to leave the cubicle but stopped at the curtain surrounding the bed.
"This might seem a little weird, and I promise I have no ulterior motives but since you don't have anywhere else to go, do you want to stay at my place? There's an inn at the end of Diagon Alley, but chances are the rooms will be fully booked. If you don't want to then perhaps I can find you a muggle hotel; or see if mum and dad or Harry will take you…"
Hermione watched as the tips of Ron's ears turned pink. The sight forced a small smile on her face. He was currently the only person she knew in this world. Others in her position would probably run a mile but there was something about him that she found quite intriguing. His eyes were sincere and it made her want to put her faith in him completely. Pushing aside her immediate concerns at how improper it would be, reminding herself she was in a different time to hers, she nodded.
"As long as it won't be an inconvenience to you."
"Not at all. Harry has a house in central London and I'm currently staying there. Truth be told, it's a little lonely rattling around there by myself. He lives with my sister in Holyhead. They're married…" Ron wasn't sure why he added the last sentence, but he felt that it would be important to Hermione. "I can even give you your own room with a lockable door if that would make you feel safer…"
"Surely the alohomora charm hasn't gone out of fashion already?!"
"Of course not…" Ron's friendly smile grew almost lopsided and Hermione was surprised to feel her heart skip a small beat, although she put it down to the aftereffects of splinching herself. "I promise you I won't use it though…" He made the sign of a cross over his heart, which Hermione found quite peculiar before leaving the cubicle.
Hermione sat back again, watching the bustling hospital ward through the gap in the curtains. A grey-haired wizard walked past, only inches from the curtain at the edge of her bed and stopped for a moment, staring back in at her. He was tall, thin, and very old looking, with silver hair and a beard so long it almost touched the floor. His blue eyes were piercing, almost forcing her to look away, but they had a familiar mischievous twinkle in them. Hermione immediately felt that she knew this wizard, but before she could even think about how, the wizard had disappeared again and Hermione was left alone. She stared at the place where he stood until Ron finally returned.