8.
The world was coming back with a bang.
Well, a beeping sound. But if felt like a bang. The banging beeping was intruding in her bubble of peace. It was incessant.
Hermione hated it with a passion. She raised her hands to rub her crusted eyes. Hermione's mouth was cotton, dry and caked in something of which she was sure she didn't want to know. Hermione drew a deep breath. To her horror, she realized was fighting against a steady push-pull of air. In, pause, out. In, pause, out. In, pause, out. It was some sort of tube and she couldn't breathe. Hermione used every ounce of her self control to refrain from ripping out the tube. She frantically searched the room for signs of Harry, Ginny, Luna. . . anyone!
But she was alone. It was a muggle hospital, Hermione noted. She was beginning to win the battle against herself, engaging the strange sense of detached panic normally reserved for life-or-death situations. It was a familiar feeling. But she was alone, in an unknown muggle hospital and they had intubated her. It wasn't surprising really, fate had a way of buggering over anyone with good intentions.
She would need a doctor or healer to remove the tube. A healer would be preferable, but there was none to be had. At least with a muggle doctor she could plead memory loss or some other such tosh. Or she could vanish it herself and disappear. Decision made, "Accio wand," Hermione thought. She frowned when no wand soared into her open hand. She wasn't this bad at nonverbal, wandless spells. But then again, Hermione felt weaker than usual and it was apparent her belongings had been removed quite some distance. They could have at least kept her possessions somewhere reasonably close. Now her things were probably lost forever.
Option B then. She pressed the call button. It was a moment before the nurse arrived, but she froze at the sight of Hermione sitting upright. The woman looked dumbfounded.
"Not supposed to ever wake up. . ." The muggle woman's thoughts were wholly unprotected from Hermione's Legilimency.
Hermione gestured emphatically to her throat, pointing to the woman and then back to the nurse simply stared. After what seemed like an eternity the she snapped back into the here and now.
"I. . . I'm sorry miss, but it's not possible just yet. I'll page Doctor Ferguson. She'll be right down to talk with you." Hermione attempted, and was thwarted in her attempt, to sigh as the woman ducked out of the room. Good healthcare was increasingly hard to come by.
XXXXX
Later, when Harry had time to reflect on the whole crazy mess, he'd come to the conclusion that it was really more amusing than anything. Surreal, even. The situation was like one of those old muggle shows he used to watch late at the Dursley's, complete with a large cast and a laugh track (this one was supplied by himself). He still felt weak from using the restoration spell with Ron, so Harry simply crossed his arms and laid back to watch the scene unfold.
The Weasley's were beside themselves with worry; worry for their son, their daughter and whether or not any of their other children were going to show up from a supposed future acting barmy and sporting mysterious battle scars. The had set upon Albus, who was trying to calm them in that way he did. The headmaster in particular captured Harry's attention. Dumbledore possessed a true talent for the delicate duel art of leadership and pacification. Handling people in chaotic situations was a skill Harry himself had worked long and hard to acquire, but Harry feared he would never become quite so skilled. It was a marvelous thing to watch Dumbledore spin his web.
Harry tore his attention from one set of ghosts to another. The Potters were talking quietly amongst themselves too far away for Harry to hear what was being said. Their heads were tilted close and Harry watched as James ran his hand up and down Lily's arm. Something tight clenched in Harry's stomach and he looked away. Right into the waiting eyes of Sirius Black.
"So," Black began cheerfully, "where am I in four years? Living with the most beautiful witch this side of the channel? Leading the Cannons to a winning season? Maybe I'm the Minister for Magic?"
Harry cracked a small smile. Good old Sirius. The clinical part of Harry was wondering what their relationship would be like, now that they were both adults. Would Sirius and he fight well together? Would it be strange to command Sirius, to send him into battle? Would Harry hesitate to risk his Godfather in the way he'd become accustomed to risking the lives of others? Despite the rapid flow of thoughts coursing through Harry's mind, his emotions were simpler. He wanted nothing more than to break down in tears right at that second; it was almost more than Harry could bear not to reach out and clutch Sirius to himself.
"It doesn't really matter now," Harry said at length. He hoped he had managed to keep his voice from wavering. "Whatever was going to happen isn't now, is it? We're changing things as we speak."
"I suppose so," Sirius seemed to consider that for a moment. "Well, what can you tell us?"
"Not a lot, I'm afraid," Harry said. He left it at that, turning back to look at Ron.
Sirius seemed at a loss for how to proceed. "So you and Ginny, eh? When does that happen?"
Harry snorted. "You think I've come from a future where I was obviously fighting a war against the greatest dark lord of our time, possibly bearing the secret to defeating him and in the process saving thousands of lives, and what you want to ask me about when I got together with my wife?"
"It's a fair question," Sirius said sheepishly. "Though I suppose, when you put it that way. . ."
Harry snorted and flashed Sirius a genuine grin. It was amazing, Sirius thought, how the smile transformed his godson's face.
"Some things really never do change," Harry muttered. He seemed to oscillate wildly between moods, Sirius noted. When he turned and looked at the auror, his smile was disarmingly lighthearted. "I'm going to catch some more sleep. No telling when Ginny will be back with Hermione, but wake me if they turn up or Ron decides to join us." Without waiting for an answer, Harry turned his back to his godfather and shut his eyes.
XXXXX
As the rest of her table chattered lightly, Sylvia concentrated on her plate, stabbing her potatoes with venom.
Harry had been injured the last night. She had been a good little 'Puff, not visiting him until after classes today. Of course, once she reached the infirmary, her mother and Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she couldn't see Harry or Ron. Too weak for visitors, they said. As if she wasn't part of the family. Sylvia stabbed her plate again.
"Alright, what's wrong?" Megan put aside her potions book and looked across the table at her friend.
"Nothing at all," Sylvia said. "Why should anything be wrong?"
"Oh come off it," Megan said as she reached over and pulled the fork from Sylvia's fist.
"Fine. It's everything," Sylvia said. "Harry's injured and I'm not allowed to see him. My mum sends Professor Snape to talk to me rather than bothering to come herself. She's taking her supper in the hospital wing, but oh no, Harry's just fine. And then both Ginny and that annoying Granger girl just vanished from school. I seriously doubt they both came down with Spattergroit overnight. I'm telling you, something weirder than usual is going on."
"I am sorry about Harry, V. Truly," Megan said. "But don't you think you're taking it a little hard? Harry and Ron will both be fine. Maybe they'll be a bit less prone to pranking now that one's gone so badly."
Sylvia snorted. "I doubt that they'll ever give it up. But seriously," Sylvia leaned across the table and waited for Megan to come closer. "I don't think it was a prank. I think something really dodgy is going on. If Harry isn't seriously hurt why didn't Mum teach her classes? And why is Dad here at all? I heard his voice when I went to see Harry this afternoon. Plus Neville won't even tell me what happened." Sylvia sent a glare toward the Griffyndor table. "Everything is out of sorts. And, on top of it, Professor Snape is avoiding me. I went to his office after they wouldn't let me into the infirmary and he wouldn't see me. Like I was just another student or something!"
Megan frowned. "That is weird. I dunno though. I mean, maybe he really was busy?"
"Yeah right," Sylvia laughed. "My own Godfather suddenly can't make time to see me? No, something's wrong here and I'm going to find out what it is."
"Okay," Megan said, "but don't do anything too stupid." She surveyed her friend uneasily.
"Come on Meg. When I decide to pull something I never get caught. Admit it." Sylvia was leaning back, a slight smile across her face.
"Alright, point there," Megan sighed. "You really should have been sorted into Sylitherin. I can't imagine what the hat was thinking."
"That's the best part about it." Sylvia was smirking now. "They always expect the 'Puffs to be doddering fools. When we put our minds to something, they never, ever, see it coming."
XXXXX
Another shot of firewhiskey slammed down on the bar.
Brown eyes peered out from between fingers. After a moment Ginny lifted her head from her hands to regard the liquor. She eyed it as though it might actually burn her at any moment. In a swift motion she tossed the shot back and pushed the empty glass down the bar. Ginny swayed a bit and ran both hands through her tangled black hair.
"It's a bit early to be drinking so much," a gruff voice chimed in from beside Ginny.
She didn't turn fully to face the wizard, but Ginny surveyed him from the corner of her eyes. She knew he'd been watching her kick back shots for at least an hour. He was not a particularly large man, nor particularly small. His hair was brown, Ginny supposed, though the exact shade seemed unnameable. There was really nothing very distinguished about the man. His entire aura reeked of mediocrity. He was using magic to evade notice but, Ginny noted, he had purposely initiated contact with her.
He was a threat. And Ginny would treat him as such.
"I don't seem to be the only one partaking." She slurred her words slightly as she gestured to his own drink.
"You don't much see pretty, young lasses drinking themselves senseless alone in Knockturn alley," he responded.
"Maybe I have a high tolerance," Ginny said. She turned fully toward the man. "For many things."
The wizard didn't say a word. His eyes were fixed on the thick scar running down Ginny's face and throat. His gaze was longing.
She flashed him a toothy smile. "Didn't take you for a squeamish bloke. You afraid of little old me?"
He smirked. "Perhaps we can reach an understanding."
Ginny nodded, allowing her lips to upturn, and gestured to the door. "After you, then."
He thew down a few Galleons and offered her his arm. "Gallant," Ginny thought as they exited the bar, "a pure blood." And, hopefully, a Death Eater. They had barely made it across the threshold when he jerked her arm, pulling them both into an adjacent alley. The man threw Ginny into the wall, knocking her head, and pressed himself against her. She froze as he bit her neck, hard, and groped at her breast.
"And if I should want to give you another remembrance like that one. . ." The wizard was eyeing her scar again.
Ginny have herself a mentally shake. Now was not the time.
"Darling," she smirked, "You couldn't afford it."
The wizard's confused face was illuminated by red light hitting him square in the chest. He slumped down instantly, nonverbally stunned. Ginny let him fall. She wiped the spot where he had bit her with the back of her hand. His bite would leave a mark. Glaring down at the crumpled form at her feet, she spit, and delivered a kick to his stomach for good measure. Taking a deep breath, Ginny braced herself against the wall and stared down at the wizard. After a short pause, she reached down and touched him with just the tip of her index finger.
A small "pop" sounded and both figures disappeared.
XXXXX
The hospital doors slid shut behind her as Hermione stepped into the evening air. Night had crept into London. She was glad for the anonymity, though not thrilled to be defenseless. Hermione glanced down at her scrubs and sandals, nicked from a locker room. The first order of business was to get proper clothing, followed swiftly by the acquisition of a wand.
Thankfully this was a area of London she knew; the hospital wasn't too far from university or Kings Cross. Hermione wandered toward Russell Square, keeping an eye out for a muggle about her size. It wasn't long until one passed. A student, by the look of her, had just caught the last tube and was now on the way home. Hermione slipped out from the shadows and began to follow the girl. As if by instinct, she seemed to increase in pace. Hermione matched it, taking longer strides to catch up. The muggle turned her head ever-so-slightly and Hermione broke into a sprint. She leapt, tackling the girl. They landed hard, Hermione knocking the wind out of the muggle and the girl's rucksack knocking the wind out of Hermione. The girl kicked out, Hermione grunted as the high heel stabbed into her leg. The witch lunged forward with both hands out and grabbed the girl's face. Her head hit the concrete with a sickening thump and the girl cried out.
"Stupefy!" Hermione said. Her hands glowed red but the girl continued to scream. "Stupefy! Stupefy! STUPEFY!"
It was the last spell that finally did it. Hermione collapsed on the now unconscious girl. Breathing heavily, she rested for only a moment before rolling off the body. They were both bleeding, Hermione noted absently. She grabbed the body under both arms and hoisted the girl into a doorway. Hopefully no one had seen. Hermione's hands were steady as she tugged at the jumper. The shoes were next. Hermione had begun to undo the belt buckle when she saw it. The wand was tucked into the front of her trousers. Ten inches, oak, by the look of it.
The girl was a witch. A witch who had chosen to attend muggle university, live in muggle London, but still kept her wand. The sound of footsteps in the distance snapped Hermione back into reality. She grabbed the wand and preformed the more efficient switching spell to swap the girl's remaining clothing with her own. The footsteps were growling louder, followed by voices. Hermione unzipped the rucksack and quickly dumped out the books. Her head snapped up at a bright light suddenly shinning in her eyes.
The officer would later say he'd found the victim alone. He'd never tell a living soul he had witnessed a woman vanish into thin air.
XXXXX
"Harry always has to be so difficult," Sylvia groaned aloud. While he wasn't exactly a Merlin when it came to classes, when properly motivated her brother was unexpectedly crafty.
It hadn't been hard to slip into the Griffyndor's common room on pretense of picking something up for Harry. All his belongings were still in the seventh year dormitory, which was, thankfully, currently devoid of any of its residents. Sylvia surveyed the mess with a keen eye. Harry was haphazard with his belongings for the most part, but the ones he truly treasured were well protected. A quick perusal of his trunk turned up nothing more interesting than old socks. The wardrobe and night table were busts too.
"Think. You're not smart enough to ward your stuff like a Ravenclaw or jinx it like a Syltherin. And you're surrounded by such a block-headed lot that they'd take it without thinking twice so it can't be left in the open. . . " Sylvia's train of thought matched her appraisal of the room. No luck. With a sigh, she flopped back on Harry's bed. At least all the beds in Hogwarts were the same, comfortable, with sturdy wood and deep draping. . .
Sylvia hopped up onto the mattress and began to search the folds of the four poster drapes. She gave a triumphant yelp when she found a small pouch, just big enough to fit a hand, tucked away inside a fold of drape. Without further adieu Sylvia stuck her hand inside. Her arm promptly slid in up the elbow and with a flourish she pulled out her father's invisibility cloak. It was lovely, so soft and liquid-like in her hands. Sylvia spared herself only a moment for admiration before stuffing it back in the small bag. She grabbed one of Harry's school books at random; it wouldn't do to leave without something to shore up her cover story for being in the dormitory.
Sylvia headed back to her own common room with a smile. So her mother and Professor Snape were trying to keep her in the dark. Sylvia was about to turn the tables on them.
XXXXX
"Harry."
The man in question was completely still. The single sign of his waking state was the slight hitch in breath before the rising and falling of his chest evened out. He felt the bed depress next to him followed by the feather-light touch of a wand tip to his forehead. Instantly, his mind was flooded with visions: a young girl shrieking as a mountain troll lumbered toward her, a woman in sneaking out of muggle hospital, crouched over a prone figure on a street bathed in florescent light, the same woman Apparating across the country side and, finally, emerging from the secret tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow.
His eyes opened, meeting Hermione's straight on.
"Good of you to join us," he deadpanned.
"Miss Granger gave us quite the surprise," Albus Dumbledore said quietly. He was standing some feet behind Hermione, wearing his dressing gown. Harry spared him a single nod before pushing himself up to assess his friend.
"You didn't show me where you got the wand," he said.
"She was a witch, if you can believe that." A rather hysterical laugh bubbled up in Hermione before she could help herself. She snorted and covered her mouth quickly. "The witch didn't even reached for her own wand. Can you imagine it? A world where people don't assume they're in danger all the time?"
Harry narrowed his eyes at Hermione. He didn't move, didn't say a word, but Hermione promptly pursed her lips together.
"Miss Granger," Albus cut in smoothly, "do you mean to say you've stolen the wand you used to Apparate here?"
"Yes," Hermione said without shame. "It was necessary."
"Ah, I see. Now that it has served its necessary purpose, perhaps you would allow me to find the rightful owner?" Albus' question was presented lightly, as though assault, battery and theft were daily dealings of his.
Hermione turned fully around from her seat on Harry's bed to stare at the headmaster. She opened her mouth to reply when Harry laid a hand on her arm. Hermione's eyes snapped back to him.
"We'll get you another," Harry said simply.
And without any additional fuss Hermione procured the stolen wand from within her sleeve and handed it to Dumbledore.
"The girl lives in Bloomsbury. She's attending university there."
"I will ensure the wand finds her," Dumbledore said. He addressed Harry. "Breakfast begins in four hours time. I'm sure you have things to say to Miss Granger before your parents return. I shall see you then."
Hermione waited until the Headmaster had left the infirmary before rounding on her friend. She held her hand out expectantly. Harry placed his own wand in her waiting palm. A few detection charms and a quick Muffliato later, Hermione nodded and handed the wand back.
"Satisfied?" Harry joked.
"They're not too cautious here, are they?" Hermione answer was serious.
"No. I've cast everything I think of," Harry said soberly. "No particular wards, no listening charms, no recording orbs. It's like they've never needed to spy on anyone in Hogwarts before."
"It was the same with the girl," Hermione said. "I was so sure she was a muggle. She didn't even think to reach for her own wand." Hermione shook her head. "What's this about your parents? They're alive here, aren't they?"
Harry nodded, his eyes staring a thousand yards away. "Sirius too. I even saw Molly and Arthur."
"Well. . ." Hermione said speculatively, "you seem to be taking it alright?"
"Want to see something even more surprising?" Harry's abrupt change of topic did not go unnoticed, but Hermione allowed him to take both her hands in his own. "Check behind that curtain."
She shot him a suspicious glance before slowly rising and drawing back the white sheet. Harry waited through a moment of absolute silence. For Hermione, there was no pause; time simply stopped.
"RON!" She sank to her knees and grabbed his hand, kissing his palm over and over. When Hermione turned back to Harry tears were streaming down her face.
"How?" she gasped.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Harry smiled at her. "But he'll be okay. He's just having a lie in. Lazy as always."
Hermione's laugh sounded more like a sob. Her eyes raked across Ron's bandaged body several times before she noticed Molly Weasley, slumped in a chair next to his bed. Harry laughed loudly when he realized what Hermione was staring at.
"Had to do it," he said, "she was driving me batty. Wouldn't stop going on about, 'Poor 'ickle Ronny.' I thought she might set herself on fire, what with those knitting needles moving fast enough to spark."
"So you stunned her?" Hermione's voice was disapproving. "Honestly, Harry, did you want to break any trust we might have with these people? What were you thinking?
"I was thinking she wouldn't sleep unless I put her out. And I didn't stun her, it was a mild compulsion charm," Harry said. "For sleeping only. She won't even realize I cast it." It was a second of silence before Harry said softly, "She never would have taken any rest. You know how she is."
Hermione nodded. Despite her back being to Harry, he could picture the tight line her lips would have formed by now. She didn't say anything, but Harry saw her shoulders rise and fall more rapidly. Hermione was crying again.
"Look, I promise I won't do anything else to them," he said. "Well, at least, I promise I won't do anything else unnecessarily."
"I suppose that's all I can ask for," Hermione said, wiping her eyes hastily on the sleeve of her jumper. "We should go over our strategy."
"So far they think we've come from the future," Harry said. "I'm not going to burst their bubble just yet. Gin is here, out looking for you actually, but Luna didn't make it. I don't know why. The dead are up and walking and talking and making it hard for me to think straight. I'm still tired from saving Ron and you look like death warmed over so I think planning can wait until we've had a bit of a life in ourselves."
"You can't simply choose not to think about all this Harry," Hermione's voice had grown disapproving again. "We need to have a plan. There are questions that need answers and we need to decide how to proceed and I think it's best if we-"
"No, no, no," Harry cut in. "Sleep, Hermione. Dumbledore is still here, watching over Hogwarts, which has not been overrun with Death Eaters, if you hadn't noticed. We're as safe as we can be here. Gin will hopefully be back tomorrow and you'll get your chance to talk to all our lovely ghosts so we'll actually get a few answers and figure out what we want to do. But until then, we rest and tell them as little as possible. Let's get a better understanding of this world before we try and sort ourselves."
"But-" Hermione started.
"Sleep now," Harry said. "That's an order."
And just like that the fight seemed to flow out of Hermione. She nodded back to Harry and rose. He levitated Ron, just a bit, to the side of the bed and watched Hermione climb in next to him, careful to mind his broken body. She was asleep almost instantly.
Harry smiled to himself as he levitated another blanket over the sleeping couple. It was going to be fantastic when Molly woke up.
ATN:
Sorry for the change in story summary, but I've made an adjustment to storyline that calls for an altered description. I hope you're all enjoying reading so far. Any constructive criticism or commentary is always welcome!
