Illusions of the Past
Chapter 2
I think that I might have got the time frame a bit off... Hope you don't mind, because at the moment I'm feeling too lazy to repost it, especially since I sort of messed up my fic files... Heh.
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Hermione recognised many features of Hogwarts as she had known it, but there were many other things that were unfamiliar to her as well. The tapestries, suits of armour, and statues looked relatively new, while the walls in some places had been painted a different colour. However, she was in no mood to appreciate the different scenery – she was more concerned about her current situation.
Although she had briefly been determined to do something about Tom Riddle when she had realised that he would be a student in this time, now all she felt was ridiculous for thinking that she could do anything when she was stuck more than fifty years in the past. But now all she could think about was how she was going to find Dumbledore, explain her problem, and get back before she lost any revision time for the O.W.L.s.
The Transfiguration classroom was just ahead… Students were slowly pouring out of it, chatting and joking. Hermione hastily ducked behind a secret passageway concealed behind a tapestry. Fortunately, none of the students noticed her, all of them continuing on their way. When she was at last positive that there was no other student left, she slipped out and cautiously approached the classroom door.
Much to her relief, Dumbledore was there, rearranging stacks of books and parchment on his table. She took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.
Dumbledore looked up. He looked much younger than Hermione had ever known him. "Professor Dumbledore?" she asked, her words coming out in a rush. "I need your help."
Dumbledore carefully observed her from behind his glasses. "And you are…?"
"Granger. Hermione Granger." Hermione took a deep breath again, to calm herself down. Not working. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I'm from the future, the year 1994. I don't know how I traveled back to the past – I mean your time – but I have to get back. Can you help me?"
Dumbledore looked mildly impressed in the oddly eccentric way Harry had described to Hermione before. "You mean that you have traveled back in time? That is interesting… So can I conclude that in your own time, you are aquainted with me?"
"Well, yes, you're-" Hermione stopped herself just in time. Having used a Time Turner in her third year, she had been warned about the risks of changing history. Which meant that she was not supposed to tell Dumbledore about his future self, no matter what she did. "Well, you're a Hogwarts teacher," she said lamely.
"I can see that you're wearing the Hogwarts uniform," Dumbledore said gently. He gestured to a chair, indicating to Hermione to sit. She did, rather anxiously.
"So can you help me, Professor?" Hermione asked quickly.
"There are many ways of traveling through time, and the commonest way is by using a Time Turner. But the Time Turner would not be enough to bring someone so far through time. However, I can reasonably say that the safest way for you to return to your own time is by going back the way you came. How did you end up here?"
"Er…" Hermione thought back to what she had been doing before she had somehow come here. She had been with Harry and Ron, when Malfoy had attacked them. Then… Then something odd had happened, and she had ended up here…
"Harry – I mean two of my friends, were duelling with someone, and there was some sort of explosion… If I remember correctly, the light from the wands collided and collected in the air like a huge ball of light. Then the ball was blasting out bolts of light at everyone, and when I realised what had happened I was already here."
"That certainly does sound interesting." Dumbledore started pacing up and down. Hermione wished he wouldn't; he was making her nervous as well. "Do you have any idea how you came to travel to this time?"
Hermione shook her head. "Not a clue."
"You weren't carrying with you, something that could have caused it? A Time Turner, perhaps?"
"No, I wasn't."
"Then this will be quite a hard problem." Dumbledore stopped directly in front of her. "I'm sorry that I cannot help you immediately. I will try to find a solution to your problem, but in the meantime I hope you can be patient enough."
"That's okay," Hermione said, slightly relieved, slightly disappointed. "Do you think, in the meantime, I can stay here? In Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "I think I should be able to arrange something for you. By the way, what year are you in? I think that it will be quite hard to help you solve your problem, especially since you don't know how you came here, and it will take quite some time. If you are willing to continue your education in this time, by the time you get back you won't have wasted any time."
"That's good," Hermione said, hugely relieved. She had been worrying that she would miss out on her revision time to prepare for the O.W.L.s – why does this have to happen now?!?!? – and Dumbledore's suggestion seemed to have given her one half of the answer that she wanted. "I'm in my fifth year…"
"Ahh, O.W.L year," Dumbledore said. "So I guess you won't mind if I arrange for you to join in the fifth year classes, to keep up with your studies?"
"Of course not," Hermione said quickly.
"That settles it," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "If you can just give me your personal details and a list of subjects that you're taking…"
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Draco Malfoy slowed down as he approached the place where the greenhouses were. To his surprise, the Mudblood hadn't been following him. Suited him perfectly well. She didn't really stike him as the kind of person who would be able to actually figure out a way out of their problem by herself – all the things that she knew could be found in books, and books didn't exactly describe these kind of things much.
Coming from a pure-blood family, Draco had been required to remember all the names of other pure-blood families, to prevent him from mixing in the wrong crowd. And one thing he knew was that in this year, his grandfather Abraxas Malfoy would also be a fifth-year student in Hogwarts… If he could just find Abraxas and convince him of his problem, maybe he could find a way back and not involve anyone else (namely the Muggle-lover Dumbledore).
"Abraxas Malfoy!"
Draco turned around to see a group of rather mean-looking students striding up to him. Glancing around wildly, hoping to see where Abraxas was, he belatedly realised that there was no one else there – and they had mistaken him for his grandfather.
"Look, you've got it wrong-"
"Abraxas Malfoy," the tallest of the boys repeated, flexing his muscles, an odd, twisted grin on his face. "Why didn't you tell us that you were coming back so early? Damn, you could have told us about it!"
Draco stared around in disbelief as the mean looks on the students' face were replaced by broad grins. The one who had greeted him flung an arm around his shoulders warmly, and Draco had a split-second chance to read the name Tarry Nott on his name tag before the boy playfully punched him in the stomach.
"You said you were only coming back after Christmas! Last I checked, it's still October. What happened? The trip to Mongolia got called off?"
"The trip?" Draco was momentarily stunned. "What trip? Oh, you mean that trip. Yeah, it was called off, bad timing," he invented wildly, suddenly deciding to play along with them, pretend to be Abraxas – they did look as though they would be good at duelling, and he was far outnumbered six to one.
"Tarry, don't choke him to death just yet," a rather mean-looking girl said, coming to the front. She grinned at him – although she probably meant the smile to be friendly, Draco couldn't help feeling disgusted all the same. "I still have a lifetime of wedded bliss to look forward to with him."
A lifetime of what?? Draco nearly pretended to vomit – and he felt that he would vomit. This – troll – is Abraxas's girlfriend? What kind of taste in girls did he have anyway? He stealthily glanced at her name tag. Olive Hornby. Hornby was a name of a rather small pure-blood family that was nearly dying out in the male line, butthere was no one named Hornby in his family, so thank the gods, this girl wasn't his grandmother.
"Shut up, Olive, we'll rather be spared all that information, not even the most general of the general details regarding whatever love-making sessions you guys have had, whether in the closet-"
"Actually, it was the broom cupboard."
Way too much detail. Draco snorted quietly. As Olive traded a few friendly insults with the only other girl in the group, Draco quickly took the opportunity to read all the name tags on their uniforms. Tarry Nott – Theodore's relative?, Olive Hornby, Eileen Prince – looked oddly familiar, Vince Crabbe – he definitely knew who that was, Tronus Goyle – and he knew who that was too, and Jeffe Parkinson – Pansy's relative?
"So, Abraxas, I really missed you," Olive crooned, flinging an arm around him and nuzzling his neck. Draco, shocked, wriggled out of her grasp. She was incredibly strong.
"What?" Olive asked, hurt. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, I mean…" Draco looked around wildly for a solution. Aha! "A teacher's coming."
The group turned around. A rather plump man was strolling into the castle, singing loudly as he swung a bottle of wine in his hand. Draco's jaw nearly dropped when he recognised him. "Slughorn?"
"Yeah, that's him… What, you forgot how he looks like?" Jeffe Parkinson said. "What are you worried about? Sluggie never turns in Slytherins."
"Rea – Oh, I just couldn't recognise him at this distance," Draco said hurriedly.
"Well then, come on, we're going to be late for Herbology," Eileen said. Her gloomy-looking face seemed to remind Draco of someone close to him, but he just couldn't figure out who.
"Where are your books?" Tarry asked him. "And your bag?"
Shit. Draco cursed himself, the highly-observant Tarry, Olive 'troll' Hornby, and pretty much everything else. "I think I must have left it somewhere…"
"Doesn't matter," Eileen said, still with her sulky look. Draco wondered if the expression was permanent on her face. "Didn't Abbot say that today's would just be a practical lesson, no need to bring books? Come on, before we all get detention."
"Abbot's too soft to give students harsh detentions," Olive sneered. "Oh, well, let's go!" And grabbing at Draco's arm, she led the way to Greenhouse Five, tugging possessively on his arm.
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"So you're Hermione Granger, a fifth-year Gryffindor in fifty-two years time."
Hermione nodded nervously. Professor Dippet, the current Headmaster, looked like a rather genial old man, but she still felt uncertain all the same as she sat awkwardly before him in the Head's office. Dumbledore stood nearby, nodding encouragingly.
"Albus has explained everything to me." Dippet nodded at Dumbledore. "I admit that Albus is a great wizard, and I believe that he is capable of solving your problem, but in the meantime I will arrange for you to continue studying here. The details have been settled. You will present yourself as Hermione Granger, a fifteen-year-old who was previously taught by her parents at home fot the past four years at home, and this will be your first year of formal education. Are you familiar with the rules of time travelling?"
"Yes," Hermione said, nodding. "I must be careful not to do anything that might kill my future self."
"Good," Dippet said approvingly. "I have arange for you to attend the fifth-year classes along with the other fifth-years, and I have sent notes to all the teachers. So you are a Gryffindor?"
Hermione nodded again, then made up her mind. "But Professor, if you don't mind, I would like to be in Slytherin."
Dippet was visibly shocked, and even Dumbledore seemed mildly surprised. Hermione resolutely ignored it. She had already decided – Harry was one of her best friends (nothing more!) – and over the years, alongside him and Ron, assumed the responsibilty of trying to destroy Voldemort. She knew full well the kind of person Tom Riddle had become, and decided that if she could play her part in helping to destroy Voldemort, why not do it? Redefining attacking a problem at its core, she had thought of trying to change Tom Riddle into a better person while she could. No harm in trying.
"You, as a Gryffindor, wish to be in Slytherin?" Dippet questioned.
"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "There is a reason for this, but I am afraid that I cannot tell you anything about it."
Dippet stared at her for a while, but in the end his gaze softened. "Very well. The Head of Sytherin is Professor Slughorn. He went to Hogsmeade for some wine, and should be coming back any moment now. I have sent a note to him to come here immediately. He will fix up the rest of the details for your stay here with you."
Hermione smiled thankfully at him. "Thank you so much, sir," she said gratefully.
It wasn't until she had finished settling matters with Slughorn and was halfway down to the greenhouses, where she would be taking her first Herbology class in the year 1942, did she realise that she had completely forgotten about Malfoy.
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I think it's a bit short. Hope you don't mind, but personally I never really like chapters that go on for too long, makes staring at the computer screen tiring.
And I know that the plot I'm using is more cliched that cliched, but I swear that I'll try to make the story as different as possible. Plus, in my fic, Draco Malfoy gets mistaken for Abraxas... I haven't come across that one yet, but if there is one, well, I salute the author.
R&R
Ken