Author's Note: Re-edit. I'm embarrassed at having to put a recap on here, but this is an AU storyline, and I have no desire to change the first chapter and make it easier to understand.
Important Recap- you'll want to read this: Dumbledore's Army and the remaining members of the Order snuck into the Department of Mysteries on their graduation night to grab and destroy the fourth Horcrux. The Ministry is neither aiding nor hindering the groups' search for the Horcruxes, leaving them without backup. The list of dead are as follows: Sirius, Pavarti, Cho, Dean, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. Ron is counted as MIA. Harry, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley have been captured by Death Eaters, leaving Hermione and Lupin on their own. Those two were cornered by Death Eaters, and through a fateful mishap, Hermione crashed into a glass case of timeturners and was sent back in time. Last we saw our heroine, she was inside the Department of Mysteries, alone, and covered in glass and blood.
"How long was she lying there?"
The Dark Lord will rise again…
"Hours. I've never seen a case like this before. She nearly choked and drowned in her own pool of blood. And all those fractures in her bones… It just isn't right."
Get that thing away from Scabbers!
"I don't understand. No medical or insurance files, no visitors, no identification. It's like she doesn't exist."
I trusted you!
"This is the third time I've had to restart her heart. I'll be damned if she dies on my watch, Nurse Sarah. She's too young for her body to be shutting down like this."
He's my godfather, Hermione…
"REM cycle is unusually active. Poor girl's been dreaming for days, crying out and moaning like some ghost."
My Her-my-ow-ninny…
"Hm, best fetch the doctor. Our little Jane Doe here might be falling back into critical condition again. Let's check her vitals. I'll ge-"
10 points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all…
"They can't be serious. Have you read this report? They want a full investigation of her once she's stable. Honestly, they think she's in league with You-Know-Who."
Yes, Ms. Granger? Very good Ms. Granger!
"Sarah? Sarah! Quick! I think she's going into another seizure! Where the hell is that useless healer?"
Three turns should do it, I think. Good luck.
"Hold her down! Put that wand away, Nurse Catherine, no magic! Grab the restraints- that's it, good!"
It's unfair of me, Hermione…
"She pulled her stitches again. Blood everywhere… Christ, it's going to be a long night."
I just need you to be safe.
For a long time, all Hermione could remember was the darkness. Nothing registered with her brain; no sight, no sound, no feeling, no thoughts. But one day, a single sensation popped into her bruised mind. Soft. Something beneath her felt soft.
With difficulty, the young witch moved a fingertip along the mattress beneath her and the sheets that covered her body. Soft… Her finger slid across the folds of the fabric and gingerly touched skin of her other arm. Pain. And then it slid further up her arm to the wings of the plastic butterfly needle embedded there. To the plastic tube of her IV. To the solid metal railing of her hospital bed.
Slowly, painfully, the cogs in her brain creaked back to life. Hermione's tongue slid over her chapped lips tentatively, and her mouth opened to speak.
"Ah..." It was the best she could do. But it was enough. Exhausted and confused, Hermione Granger gripped tightly to the soft sheets that covered her and fell back into more troubled sleep.
"Mr. Bagwell! I don't know what you think you are doing, sir, but I assure you that you have absolutely no business in this ward!" A shrill voice pierced the ears of a certain sleeping witch, causing her to open her sleep-caked brown eyes. Immediately Hermione regretted it. A moan escaped the girl's soar throat as she squinted at the dim lights overhead.
"Nurse Catherine, this is Ministry business! I've waited for four weeks. Four weeks! I'm done waiting. That girl better be up and about, or so help me!" Mr. Bagwell shouted, his polished black shoes smacking loudly on the floor as he neared Hermione's bed.
"Geoffrey, I think perhaps you're going a bit too far. Let the child rest for a while longer." A familiar voice suggested.
"Shut up, Albus! And I mean that with the greatest respect. We don't even know if she's really a Hogwart's student. You shouldn't be here." Bagwell countered. The tall, well-dressed man made his way past the small row of hospital beds that lined the white washed walls, most of which were empty. Not many patients got the privilege of staying in St. Mungo's High Security Ward.
Geoffrey Bagwell paused before one of the occupied beds, looking briefly at the chart clipped to the end of the bed.
"This is her, yes?" his voice boomed. "I don't see a name on the chart. Is she still nameless?"
The occupant of the bed twitched ever so slightly, causing her to moan quietly in discomfort. The young witch's body was mostly covered in thick, white gauze- pieces of which were stained with a mix of blood and iodine. Nurse Catherine made a noise of disapproval as she rushed to her patient's side.
"She hasn't spoken yet," the healer hissed. "We've only just been able to keep her in a stable condition. Why can't you just leave her alone for a little while longer, Bagwell?"
"Because she's a danger to us all." The Ministry man stated coldly. His spidery fingers grasped the medical chart, and he began to thumb through it. Albus Dumbledore stood silently by his side and stared thoughtfully at the miserable girl in bed. Hermione blinked slowly, wondering if she'd heard correctly. Her mind felt as if it'd been stuffed with cotton, and her throat felt so terribly raw, and her entire body hurt like hell. Breathing was painful enough. In all her pain and confusion, had she heard the man correctly?
Nurse Catherine suddenly took in a sharp breath and settled a thick hand over Hermione's bandaged one.
"Oh, goodness, you're awake!" Catherine exclaimed. "I'll go get you something for your pain. Be right back, my dear." She was a stout and curvy woman, but she sidestepped the two wizards and scurried out the door with surprising grace. Before she completely disappeared down the hall, however, the healer paused and sent a meaningful look towards the sharply dressed Ministry employee.
"Hands off, Bagwell. She isn't yours to question yet."
"My ass, she isn't." The aging man muttered, waiting until the determined healer was well on her way to St. Mungo's vast storeroom. Beneath Dumbledore's watchful gaze, Geoffrey reclipped the medical chart in his hand to the end of the bed and made his way to Hermione's side. She blinked up at the steely eyed man with wide brown eyes, not terribly sure what to make of him.
"What is your name?" he asked quietly.
"Geoff, I know you have Ministry authority, but maybe you should wait." Bagwell shook his head, not bothering to look Dumbledore in the eyes. It really was a challenge to look that old bat in the eyes and not do what he asked of you.
"It's just a simple question, Albus. How unreasonable is it to ask somebody their name?"
"There's a chance she's still under the Imperius curse. Besides that, look at the poor child. She's hardly able to move, let alone speak to an intimidating man such as yourself."
Bagwell's eyes narrowed at Dumbledore's comment, though Hermione almost swore she could see the man smiling. He was indeed intimidating.
"Imperius? Don't be daft, old man. This is daring work- far too daring for some underling under a spell. Nobody has been able to infiltrate the Department of Mysteries. This is Death Eater work." He muttered, reaching for Hermione's IV bag. She watched in horror as the Ministry man pulled two small objects out of his jacket pocket; a needle and a small vial of clear liquid. Albus Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in disapproval.
"Don't do this, Geoffrey. You may have the Minister's permission, but I can't forgive you doing something like this to one of my students, if she is a student of mine."
This made Bagwell pause momentarily, though his eyes still refused to meet the headmaster's. His mind was made up, however, and his fingers continued to draw a miniscule quantity of liquid from the vial with the needle. Hermione made a noise of protest (much to her throat's displeasure) as the man inserted the needle into the top of her IV bag and injected the strange liquid inside. The three waited in heavy silence for the drugs to kick in.
"You are my witness to her testimony, Albus. I don't care what the council thinks about the legitimacy of using veritaserum; it's good enough for me."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Bagwell, watching his image shift in and out of focus. Pain was giving way to nothingness in lightning speed.
"I am Geoffrey Bagwell, Chief of Ministry Security. You will answer all of the questions asked of you in absolute honesty. Do you understand?" Bagwell spoke, his voice the picture of authority. Hermione found herself nodding her head ever so gently in response.
"Good," he said. "Now, what is your name?"
"H-Herme…" the young witch began, pausing in wonder at the fiery sensation spreading through her throat, unable to even comprehend the simple need to throw up. Dumbledore strode to Hermione's side, pushing Bagwell aside, and quickly fished a small bucket out from under the hospital bed. It barely touched the area beside Hermione's pillow before she began to retch miserably into it. Each movement her body made set fire coursing through her. Her gasps and sobs of pain echoed through the small, quiet ward.
Dumbledore set a soothing hand on her bandaged back, waiting until her heaving ceased to wipe her face with a towel placed nearby. Hermione felt gratitude to the strangely familiar man. As she turned away from the bucket at her side, Bagwell resumed his interrogation.
"What is your name?"
Once again, her mouth moved of its own accord. "Hermi-" she paused, letting the nausea pass. "Grain." Another pause, a deep breath. "Gier."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"And how did you get inside the Department of Mysteries?" Hermione searched her mind, frustrated to find only broken pieces of a memory.
"The Minister," she breathed. "Had per-permiss-"
"The Minister of Magic's permission?" Bagwell asked incredulously. Hermione nodded.
"...permission for what?"
"No."
"No?"
"Secret. Can't…can't tell…" Bagwell's steely eyes smoldered with fury as she stared down at the bandaged girl.
"Secret?" he seethed. Hermione's brown eyes narrowed in confusion, fighting to remember, fighting to understand. I swore an oath. Bound by magic. This man is not a member.
"You," she began carefully, "are n-not. Not part."
"Not part of what?" Bagwell hissed.
"The Order."
"Order? What bloody 'order'? Don't make a fool of me!" The Ministry man shouted. "Albus, you ask her the questions!"
A large hand settled comfortingly on Bagwell's shoulder. The Chief of Ministry Security turned to see Dumbledore smiling warmly at him.
"I think that's enough, Geoff. It's obvious her memory has been tampered with. I doubt she knows how she got into the Department of Mysteries…"
I walked in.
"…or why she was even in there..."
The locket was there; the fourth Horcrux.
"…and I'm certain she wouldn't be able to identify whoever attacked her. Whoever hurt her used serious dark magic, Geoffrey. It was torture. Surely this girl isn't capable of doing such a thing to herself."
"It still doesn't feel right," Bagwell muttered darkly, eyeing Hermione with suspicion.
"You used a goodly amount of veritaserum. She obviously believes the Minister gave her permission to be inside the Department of Mysteries because she was a part of some 'order'. Do you believe that?" Dumbledore's voice was gentle and friendly as he made Geoffrey Bagwell begin to doubt himself.
"I suppose not, but there's something not right about this. Are you sure she isn't using Occlumency to lie?" Dumbledore chuckled and shook his head.
"I'm positive. Would you like me to ask her a few questions and set your mind at ease?"
Bagwell opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment Nurse Catherine reappeared in the room looking slightly flushed and disheveled.
"Sorry, my dear, but there was an accident on the third floor. Took longer than I expected." She said, making her way to Hermione's IV bag. However, she paused at the sight of the vomit-filled bucket close to the miserable young witch's head.
"Bagwell, did you try to get her to talk?" The healer demanded loudly as she cleared away the mess with a few flicks of her wand. The Ministry man merely shrugged, watching as she bustled about.
"Actually, Nurse Catherine, I was about to ask her a few questions myself." Dumbledore interjected sweetly. She turned and grinned at the Hogwart's headmaster, forming dimples on her fat cheeks.
"I suppose that'd be alright then, if it's you. Just a few, mind you. And I can't say you'll get much out of her in any case," she added, nodding to the IV.
"So kind, Nurse Catherine. I was just going to ask her if she is indeed a student of Hogwarts."
"I-I was." Hermione muttered, feeling once more as if her mind were stuffed with cotton.
"But you're not now?" Bagwell asked. Nurse Catherine sent him a dirty look.
"…" Hermione wasn't sure what to say. She had indeed just graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but wasn't she still technically their student?
"Of course she isn't now!" The healer interrupted. "It's summer holiday."
"I don't think the question was directed towards you." Bagwell hissed. Nurse Catherine narrowed her eyes at the man and pointed to a large bag stuffed beneath the hospital bed.
"That there contains what is left of a Hogwart's school robe. She was wearing it when they found her."
"That's enough, if you please." Dumbledore interrupted. "Now, do you know who I am?"
"Yes…" Hermione breathed, her voice becoming more raw with every passing second.
"Who is he?" Bagwell asked.
"A ghost." And with that, the young witch closed her eyes and fell into a drug-induced sleep.
"Satisfied, Geoffrey?" Albus Dumbledore asked. Bagwell nodded in defeat.
"In that case, she is now under the charge of Hogwarts and not the Ministry. Please have me notified when she is discharged from St. Mungo's, Nurse Catherine."
Albus Dumbledore then turned to his dour companion. "Come now, Geoffrey. You can look up all the information you desire on Miss Graingier when you return to the office. For now, I'm sure a good firewhiskey shall cheer you up. I know the most charming little pub…"
Time is the fire in which we burn.
-Delmore Schwartz
Author's Note: So, Hermione is now out of trouble with the Ministry and in the charge of Albus Dumbledore, a man who seems strangely familiar to her. Next time on 'Frame of Reference'- The Long Road Home. And yes, Bagwell is my little J. Edgar Hoover.