Chapter 6

Disclaimer: The Potterverse is not mine.

AN: Many thanks to septentrion and LadySunflower for betaing this so quickly.


It took a long time, but gradually I became conscious of a deep, dull pain throughout my body, coupled with an odd tingling from my left shoulder. Groaning, I forced my eyes open. I stifled a cry of shock, flinching back from the unexpected sight of a sharp beak and keen, penetrating dark eyes, surrounded by bright red feathers.

"Fawkes?" I winced at the sound of my own voice, as gravelly as a chain smoker's.

Dumbledore's phoenix chirped softly, blinking rapidly to chase the remaining tears from his eyes. I squinted down at my shoulder, unsurprised by the unmarked skin showing through the cut in the bloodstained fabric. I had known from myths and legends that phoenix tears had healing properties, to be backed up as fact when I read about it.

Back in the Headmaster's office, I hadn't managed to move fast enough. Then again, if I hadn't dodged at all, I might have been killed. Making darkness fall before Dumbledore had finished casting his curse had been a mistake. Whatever his intentions, I'm sure that he was not intending to kill me immediately. From my glimpse of Ron, looking grief-stricken, something must have happened to one of the Weasleys… or to Harry. This other Necromancer must indeed exist, and somehow pinned the blame for her or his deeds on to me.

In the dim light shining through the closed curtains, I could see that I had managed to Apparate into my childhood home. I was lying in a pool of my own blood, staining the carpet and threatening to seep into the dustcovers over the furniture. Judging from the sheer amount, I should have bled to death, yet I hadn't felt its cold grip … my rudimentary attempts to stop the bleeding must have had some effect. That and Fawkes must have arrived just in time.

The room began swimming in front of my eyes, accompanied by a rising feeling of nausea. Closing my eyes did little to help, but at least it put an end to the nightmarish vision of my family home.

"Ouch!" I gave Fawkes a wounded look. Why had he pecked me on the arm? I shifted away from him, looking down when my hand encountered what felt like cool glass. It was a potions vial, presumably left over from the supplies provided for me to take home after the debacle at the Department of Mysteries, and incidentally still within the 'best before' date. Madam Pomfrey had explained the inclusion of a vial of Blood Replenishing Potion as a precaution, as there was a possibility that my cursed scar would reopen in such a way to cause heavy bleeding.

My eyes slipped closed again, the precious vial slipping from my grasp in a similar way to my hold on consciousness. My head slumped back to rest on the floor, my thoughts fading into a vague sense that there was something I was forgetting….

The next thing I knew, I was spluttering, choking as Fawkes forced the open end of the vial into my mouth. Snatching the vial out of his beak, I raised my head, wincing as several strands of hair parted company from me, stuck to the carpet by the drying blood.

It took a few moments for the potion to take effect after I gulped it down, grimacing at the aftertaste. My thoughts cleared, my body strengthened. Within minutes I was able to sit up. I blinked, amazed at the speed with which the symptoms of my blood loss were cured. Giving Fawkes a sidelong look, I could only guess that he'd somehow included some of his tears into the potion. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them hadn't mentioned dexterity as one of the many talents of a phoenix….

Squawking impatiently, Fawkes pulled at my sleeve. I pushed myself into a sitting position, wary for any lingering dizziness before I tried standing.

"Ow. Stop that!" Fawkes had pecked me again. He gave me an indecipherable look before breaking into song.

Clutching my head, I inhaled sharply as alarming flashes of Fawkes's own thoughts streamed into mine; a process which I could only assume had something to do with what he was singing.

Hogwarts was under attack, the wards sundered.


It was the surge of adrenalin that got me moving, lurching to my feet, plucking my wand from my pocket even as Fawkes swooped up to perch on my shoulder.

Before I could Disapparate or allow Fawkes to take me with him in his mysterious mode of instantaneous fiery transportation, I staggered, as if from an unseen blow. Wide eyed, I stared around. I hadn't felt anyone alive in the vicinity except Fawkes and the nearest Muggle neighbours. I glanced down at the bloody mess that was the carpet. Perhaps it was something to do with my blood loss. Whilst hardly a Healer, I could imagine that it would cause the sort of headache afflicting me with the phantom blow, despite the medication Fawkes had forced into me.

I suppose I should count myself fortunate that the next delay occurred just before I was once more preparing to leave. I reeled back, clutching at my shoulder as the wound reopened. My hands were soaked in my own blood as the carpet and my clothes were all but drenched once more. Even as Fawkes shifted to apply more tears to the open gash, I choked, hands flying to my throat in an attempt to pry off unseen hands. A moment later, the constricting sensation passed.

Feeling my grip on my wand slipping, I wiped the worst of the blood covering my hands off onto my robes before Transfiguring part of the nearest dustsheet into a reflective surface. Peering into it, I examined the red marks on my neck. It was very disconcerting to see the fast developing bruises in distinct finger shapes. What was more, they reminded me far too much for comfort of the marks left by Severus's hands on my hips and arse after a particularly vigorous bout of lovemaking.

Shaking my head, I turned away from the disturbing sight. Whatever had happened could be solved later. I was needed elsewhere….

Fawkes spread his wings above my head, unfurling them over me. Sparks were flying as we vanished from my childhood home in a flash of fire. I had no time to worry about my former home burning down as a screech escaped Fawkes, his talons losing grip on my shoulders, tearing the fabric of my robes as he scrabbled to keep hold of me.

It felt like parts of me were threatening to be left behind. In a horrible, wrenching moment I was torn away from Fawkes. I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out as I vanished into darkness, the sole point of light the flaming phoenix fast disappearing.

The next thing I knew, I was choking on a mouthful of water, my scream finally audible, if garbled by the water. I clawed and kicked my way towards the murky light overhead, breaking through the surface of the water within seconds. Thankfully I hadn't been thrown deep underwater, wherever I was.

Gulping in a few deep breaths, I gazed around, trying to get my bearings. Unfortunately, everything was swathed in swirling fog. All I could see was rippling water and the vague shapes of what were probably trees further off.

I nearly swallowed my tongue when I felt something grab me, lifting me from the water. Looking down, I flinched when I saw a huge tentacle wrapped around my waist, easily as thick as both of my arms. Then a nervous laugh escaped me as I realised both what it was and where I was. The Giant Squid was taking me towards the shore of the Black Lake; I had been thrown into the grounds of Hogwarts by whatever force had separated me from Fawkes. I suspected that it was the pure magic of a phoenix objecting violently to intermingling with the taint of a Necromancer's Dark magic. If that was the case, I was lucky that I hadn't suffered an allergic reaction to phoenix tears.

Fawkes swooped down to lift me from the gentle grip of the Giant Squid when I could make out the boathouse at the base of the cliffs Hogwarts was perched on. Rather than taking the risk of being separated again, he was taking me the rest of the way by air. I certainly wasn't about to try Apparating, not when I had come so close to Splinching. Besides, it was dangerous to attempt to Apparate when wet as the weight of the water added to the Splinching risk. The flight quickly dried me off on the surface, although it lingered below my clothes. Typical!

From the air, the castle looked to be deserted. Either I was far too late and everyone had been reduced to dust, or Dumbledore had implemented some sort of evacuation plan. I could see that the mist had cleared slightly, particularly near the main doors to the castle. As Fawkes swooped down, I could see that the Necromancer was somehow shrouded in shadows, making my eyes water in the effort to keep an eye on her, as she turned out to be.

She had Ron slumped against the steps, easily visible with his shock of red hair, muddied though it was. Dumbledore and McGonagall were advancing towards the shadow, with—

'No! Don't you dare!'

Seemingly able to read her mind, Fawkes dived down to land us both between the Necromancer and her victims. Before my feet had touched the ground, I'd launched my chosen spell at the would-be murderess of my husband and best friend.

My instinctive guess that some type of magical material was responsible for the shadows cloaking the Necromancer was correct. My elementary burst of 'Incendio' worked perfectly to expose her. Shrugging off her burning robes, she used her wand to extinguish the flames on the rest of her clothes.

With my first unobstructed look at my enemy, I stiffened. No wonder she had managed to shift the blame for whatever she had done on to me: she was my exact double!

I frowned, glowering over at her as I made sense of what I was detecting from my doppelganger with my powers.

'No, not just my double…,' I realised, a chill running down my spine. I couldn't pick up her heartbeat, although I was close enough to see her pulse shifting the skin at her throat. It wasn't because I didn't have that power anymore, either, as I could detect the heartbeats from the others. There was only one person who I'd never been able to use my Necromantic powers to detect: me, myself and I.

The fact that it was another Necromancer shouldn't block my powers, either. No, there was only one explanation, particularly as it would also explain the headaches that had been afflicting me ever since I resurrected – headaches that were rather similar to those plaguing me during my third year at Hogwarts, come to think of it….

'Somehow, she's me. But how?' I wondered. Narrowing my eyes, I noted a few details that had initially escaped me: a few extra lines on my other self's face. 'A Time-Turner? Has something gone drastically wrong in my future?'

She had a bruise forming on her left temple, directly where my headache had originated prior to my departure from my parents' home. Glancing at her shoulder, I could see a tear in her clothes, almost exactly where mine had been, if at a slightly different angle. No matter what, I couldn't take my suspicions about what this meant into account. Not when I had loved ones to defend.

Fawkes squeezed my shoulder reassuringly before fluttering towards Ron, but I had no attention to spare. After I'd helped Harry up, I lingered long enough to use my touch Legilimency on Severus, on the off-chance that my other self had let slip a different name. I knew from my own travels in time that it was increasingly dangerous for more people to know of paradoxes, as tears resulting in the fabric of reality were surprisingly resilient when very few people knew that they were there. To my knowledge, nothing tore reality apart quite like meeting yourself. Particularly as it usually drove the person in question insane….

'Bingo! Atropos, huh? She seems to share my parents' love for mythical names.'

"Granger," she sneered, nodding in snide acknowledgement of me as she brushed the last smoking parts of her clothes out, undoubtedly using some Necromantic ice to keep from burning herself.

"Strand Breaker," I spat contemptuously, surreptitiously non-verbally Summoning any Time-Turner in the vicinity. Nothing arrived, not that I had expected it to. If I were her – and all evidence suggested that I was – I wouldn't come into a battle with such a vital delicate object.

My attention was firmly fixed on Atropos as she sent an atomising spark at me. That made me doubt her origin from my future, as I knew perfectly well that it wouldn't work on me fast enough to do anything but feel marginally uncomfortable from the heat. If not from my future, where did she come from? She was definitely me, regardless of her origins. That made her all the more dangerous.

After taunting her, I tried a specific Necromantically-powered attack, only to stagger back. My attempt to give her a taste of her own medicine by stopping her heart had backfired. Thinking about it, if a blow to her head gave me a corresponding headache, then any attack I could make was bound to inflict equivalent damage upon me.

'Bugger! How the hell am I supposed to fight? Oh, joy, it seems that she hasn't realised what I have. That or she doesn't care!'

Atropos had just tried to freeze my blood. I hoped that she'd learnt her lesson, only she began to launch conventional magical attacks. Or at least as conventional spells a Dark witch would use. Thankfully my reflexes were up to dodging, although I'd have to start casting my own spells soon, even if it risked collateral damage. From what I could tell by the colour and brightness of the spells, most if not all of the curses were lethal.

The next oncoming curse followed me when I attempted to dodge, so I hastily applied a Shielding Charm, praying that it wasn't unblockable. Even as I did, I had a gut feeling that I'd made a mistake. That feeling was proved right as the distinctive golden web of light caused by Priori Incantatem came into effect, complete with an almost deafening rumbling.

My wand was vibrating in my grip, almost causing me to drop it. I looked over at Atropos, who was watching her wand apprehensively.

How stupid could I get? As she was me, she was bound to have the same wand. The only consolation was that she was equally stupid, if not more so for inadvertently bringing me back to life in the first place.

The vibration was increasing, almost shaking my hands from their death-grip on my wand. My heart felt as though it was sinking to my feet. The realisation accompanying the unpleasant feeling had only just fully dawned on me when the wands ceased making the ear-throbbing rumbling. An ear-splitting shriek of pain emanated from the wands.

We had what was effectively the same wand. A paradox like that under the conditions of Priori Incantatem can't be good.

I swallowed hard as the golden light rapidly darkened to jet black shadows. I could feel both my soul and my stomach rebelling against the sickening Darkness surrounding me.

Atropos broke the connection, discarded her wand and made her escape. I was a little too preoccupied with trying not to panic to even think of pursuing her. The Chimaera scale core within both wands was perilously close to immolating the surrounding area: Hogwarts.

Both wands were still vibrating, my own rattling my bones up to my elbows, if not beyond. I might have been able to restore one wand, given enough time and energy, but two? Impossible. But I had to try. I could taste blood in my mouth from where I'd bitten through the skin on my lower lip, but I couldn't care less.

"All of you, get out of here, now," I ordered through clenched teeth, stepping towards Atropos's wand. 'Please go. This will be easier without anyone else to worry about.'

I deftly escaped Severus's clutches, giving Albus a pleading look. Thankfully, the Headmaster nodded his understanding.

There was no way I could manage to restore the cores of both wands at once, so I concentrated on my own. I heard the others Disapparate, breathing a short sigh of relief, before my breath froze in my chest. I could feel something coming. Something Undead. Something big….

Snatching up Atropos's wand from the ground, I turned towards the castle doors, whilst still trying to persuade the Chimaera scale in my wand to kindly behave itself and go back to the condition it was while still attached to the beastie.

The doors smashed open a heartbeat later. What blood was left in my face drained away at the sight of the Basilisk. Thankfully the eyes were as dead as the rest of it, but judging from the blue sparks visible in the gory sockets, it could see me well enough. Even if it couldn't Petrify me again, I was still in grave danger from it. I couldn't spare the power to tear its soul away, nor could I even slow it down by freezing it. Every last iota of my Necromantic powers were spared for attempting the impossible. My bitter growing realisation was that it didn't seem to make any difference whatsoever.

"Fuck it all!" I snarled, far beyond any sham of social civility in the circumstances.

Collecting the wands together in one hand, I pulled my arm back and let fly as the Basilisk opened its mouth wide and lunged for me.


I hadn't survived to complete my Apparition lessons, let alone take the test. But all that meant was that it was illegal for me to do it. Not that I cared; my mere existence was illegal. Of course, completing my lessons may have meant that I wouldn't have got my second immersion for the day in a large body of water. This time it was on the far side of the lake, far enough from Hogwarts that the initial explosion didn't harm me physically. But the subsequent collapse of rubble into the lake did raise tidal waves.

If it wasn't for the padding provided by the overgrown lakeshore, I would have been torn to pieces. As it were, I was half-drowned and felt as though I'd been run over by the Knightbus. It took me some time to disentangle myself from the weeds, too weary to call on my powers to make them wilt. Once I was free, crawling to lie on drier land, a strangled gasp escaped me. I had come very close to being crushed by the Giant Squid as it was washed up on the lakeshore. Its tentacles still struggled feebly. I had no way of assisting it back into the water, either… unless I could somehow summon the others here.

I fingered my marital branding thoughtfully. It had to be there for more than just decoration, surely? Keeping an eye on the ailing Squid, I frantically tried to recall everything that I'd ever read about them. If only I still had my eidetic memory!

As I drew a mental blank, it would have to be trial and error. I supposed that just thinking with enough intensity might work, as there must be times where voices can't be used when a spouse is needed. I hoped that was the case, as coughing and choking on successive waves of water had left my voice a mere pained whisper.

'Severus, I need you.' Nothing.

'Severus Snape, get your arse down here!' The midges and mosquitoes had started to gather again, leaving me weakly swatting at those hungrily approaching me, detecting the warm blood in my veins and still staining my chin. Still no Severus, though.

'Severus— Oh, hell, what's his middle name?' I eyed the Squid regretfully as I accepted that there was no way for me to call my husband to my side. Unless….

'Husband mine, I need you!' Finally the brand glowed red, thankfully not causing any pain.

Moments later, Severus had appeared with a nearly inaudible 'crack' by my side, one of his hands gripping his similarly glowing brand.

"Hermione!" He exclaimed, dropping to his knees and reaching for me. I must have looked worse than I felt, or perhaps he had feared that I'd been caught up in the destruction of Hogwarts. Which I had been, now that I think of it.

"Squid," I managed to rasp, pointing to the fading animal.

Wand in hand, Severus Levitated it back into the water where it soon revived, waving its tentacles in thanks before diving below the surface.

Now that the rush of adrenalin keeping me going all this time had faded, I could barely keep my eyes open. Each blink lasted longer. I yawned widely, wincing as the action made my throat ache. I could hear Severus speaking to me as if from a great distance, his words might as well have been in another language.

I struggled against the rising tide of exhausted sleep as the nagging sense that I'd forgotten something increased with every heartbeat. I forced my eyes open as it occurred to my conscious mind, blearily focussing on Severus's concerned, scowling face inches from mine.

"Sev'rus," I whispered, grabbing hold of whatever part of him I could, fingernails dragging in his coarse robes.

"What?" he asked. My eyes slid closed as my tenuous hold on consciousness failed. Severus gently but firmly shook me awake immediately, long enough for me to say what I had to.

"Ollivander…." Blissful darkness swallowed me, away from the regrets of failing to save Hogwarts.