A/N: This chapter is quite a bit longer than the last one, and I have decided to make it my goal to upload at least once a week barring complications called life. I've made several changes to better suit the story, such as the light side losing, badly. I will keep mostly to canon to a point with changes necessary to the story. I hope you enjoy!
EDIT: This chapter has been changed from when it was originally posted. If you notice something different it has been altered. The original author's notes are the same.
Dumbledore.
Hermione wanted to cry out in relief.
"Dumbledore!"
They were all saved. She longed run over and hug his frail frame and never let go, but she restrained herself. She very nearly started jumping up and down and cheering. A thousand emotions were running through her mind at once, most of which centered around relief.
Tears streaming down her face, Hermione started to step towards him. Her mind was going a million miles a minute, and she was started to feel slightly dizzy from the speed of it. But somewhere from the back of her mind something there was nagging, trying to come out from under all of her emotions.
She vaguely heard him say, "Are you alright my dear?" but it was lost in the turmoil that was her thoughts.
Finally, a memory surfaced of the last time that Hermione had seen Dumbledore. The battle resulting in Snape's betrayal and flight from the castle. He had been lying at the bottom of the astronomy tower. Glasses knocked off, hand blackened and grotesque, limbs twisted and broken at odd angles, pale, and most definitely dead.
Another memory came immediately after that of everyone at Dumbledore's funeral. Harry speaking and everyone crying. The insurmountable grief and silence left behind by Fawkes' song. All of the students and staff alike mourning the loss of the headmaster as he was sealed into a marble tomb on the castle grounds.
Hermione froze in her tracks and all color drained from her face.
Dumbledore was gone. Dumbledore was dead. Dumbledore shouldn't be here. Dumbledore couldn't be here; they were in the middle of a battle. Dumbledore was currently in a broken tomb on the grounds, and he most definitely could not be the man standing before her.
At the end of this last thought Hermione came to her senses and all of her instincts that she had acquired from a year on the run kicked in. "Dumbledore" had a look of puzzlement and was not expecting anything as she whipped out her wand and turned it on him. In a bright flash of yellow light he was thrown backwards into the high-backed headmasters' chair and his wand was in Hermione's hand.
Dumbledore didn't have time to react after having the wind knocked out him by her blow. She conjured magical ropes out of thin air around his wrists and chest, effectively strapping him to the ornate chair. She proceeded to add several more charms to the bonds until they emitted a soft, ethereal glow. She also warded the entire room until it was sealed tight and she was sure they would not be interrupted. It was perhaps a little overkill, but Hermione thought it to be only right considering the circumstances.
It was only once she was satisfied that he was sufficiently tied down that she approached him warily. With a hard jab of her wand, "Dumbledore" slid to the center of the room.
Dumbledore hadn't said anything as she bound him and set up her wards, he merely looked on with a curious, if not slightly impressed look. He didn't even react when Hermione put her wand to his throat.
Hermione held her wand securely to his throat and demanded, "Who are you?!"
Dumbledore blinked slightly and his eyes twinkled and he slowly responded, "I could ask the same of you. You already have stated who I am when you entered my office, very loudly, might I add. My name is Albus, though most do seem to refer to me as Dumbledore."
Hermione nearly growled as she retorted, "You can't be Dumbledore. Dumbledore is dead."
At this a slightly confused look flitted across his face before disappearing again.
"How could I be dead if I am sitting right here, may I ask?"
"Don't lie," Hermione spat, "Dumbledore died over a year ago, I saw it, I went to his funeral. I will ask one more time, who are you?!"
Dumbledore's face remained passive even as she jabbed her wand unintentionally further into his neck. He seemed almost amused and acted as though he had to think for a moment before leisurely stating,
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."
Hermione fought the urge to smack the imposter, but knew that she never could, not while he/she was wearing his face.
"Dumbledore is dead." Hermione stated flatly with no emotion.
This time he did not react to the statement about his death, but only airily responded with that annoying twinkle in his eye,
"I can assure you that I am not, nor have I ever been, dead. Now, I would be happy to answer any questions you have to prove to you I am who I say I am. I only ask that you lower your wand, or at least point it toward a less threatening appendage."
Hermione hesitated, but took a small step back and lowered her wand to point at his chest. She took a moment and tried to think of multiple questions only Dumbledore would know the answer to.
"What is Lord Voldemort's real name?"
He raised an eyebrow slightly at the use of his full name before responding, "Tom Marvolo Riddle."
She didn't miss a beat as she moved on to the next question,
"What is the name of the group you formed to fight him?"
His brow furrowed slightly as he answered, "Well I would assume you are referring to the Order of the Phoenix."
She didn't bother to respond before she moved on,
"What are your siblings names?"
"Aberforth Dumbledore." He said calmly.
"Both of them." Hermione inquired dangerously.
The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye disappeared immediately.
"Aberforth and Ariana." He said with no emotion in his voice.
"What is the name of your best childhood friend?"
At this the side of Dumbledore's mouth turned up slightly in a ghost of a smile, but he stated without real emotion, "Elphias Doge."
"Whom did you spend the summer after graduation with?"
If the emotionless, non-twinkly Dumbledore was unsettling, the way his eyes darkened at the question could send the bravest of lions running for the hills.
He took an unsteady breath and responded with an emotional tremble to his voice Hermione doubted he had ever allowed anyone to hear in his voice before,
"I do believe that your questioning has been thorough enough for me to prove who I am."
"I do have one more question," Hermione said, glancing to the object in her hand, "what is this object called?" she said, raising up his wand.
Dumbledore's calm mask of serenity was back in place, but the twinkle had yet to return to his eye. He paused for a moment before responding,
"That is the Elder Wand."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly, and she waved her wand several times in a circular fashion and all of Dumbledore's bonds fell to the floor. Hermione knew anyone could have answered the questions about his family as a result of Skeeter's book, but no one would have expressed that kind of a reaction. Dumbledore rubbed at his wrists slightly as Hermione hand him his wand back. She took note of the fact that his hand was no longer blackened.
Dumbledore shook his head slightly, "I must say whoever taught you to do that did a very good job of it, but is it necessary to keep the wards up around my office?"
Hermione stared at him intently before biting out, "A very good job, seeing as you were the one who taught me. And yes, I do think it necessary given the circumstances."
"And those circumstances are...?"
She looked at him for a moment before stating with an odd sort of calmness, "Well, there's the fact that I'm talking to dead man. You could also factor in that the castle is full of death eaters, Voldemort is in the Great Hall, and we are in the middle of a losing battle. Plus, I'm pretty sure that Harry is dead already, in which case our last hope is already gone."
Dumbledore seemed slightly taken aback by her blunt statement, and showed a look of confusion Hermione had never before seen of the old wizard's face.
"Well it would seem we have much to discuss Miss…?"
"Granger. Hermione Granger."
Dumbledore nodded slightly in acknowledgement of her name before continuing,
"You certainly do look as though you have been through a battle recently, but I assure you that there is no battle going on in Hogwarts right now."
Hermione made a move as though to interrupt him, but he simply held up a hand to stop her.
"If Voldemort or his followers were within the wards of this castle I would know immediately, being the headmaster of the school. I also stand by my statement that I am not dead. Now, I believe we need to figure out exactly what is going on, but first I hope that you would allow me to heal you before you pass out from blood loss."
Hermione was taken aback for a moment by his words, shock at the former and surprise at the latter. Now that she took a moment to think about it, she couldn't hear any shouts of curses or screams of pain. The shaking of the castle had also stopped and there were no lights outside of the window.
She also became aware of the deep cuts and other injuries scattered about her body, but she did not feel them due to the inordinate amount of adrenaline pumping in her veins. She touched her head lightly and found that when she drew it away it was covered in fresh blood. The fact that some of the blood on her was not her own was not lost on her either.
She stewed for a moment longer before relenting, "Alright then."
Her shoulders sagged in defeat as Dumbledore conjured up a cozy looking chair and instructed her to sit down.
He cast a few diagnostic spells, looking shocked at the amount of damage to her body. He busied himself with healing the injuries scattered around her body, healing all of the major cuts and her broken ribs. He eyed the scars on her arm provided by Bellatrix at the Malfoy Manor, but said nothing. She was silent as he worked, and only nodded when he commented on her high pain tolerance. He opted to save her head for last, as well as a particularly nasty cut on her shoulder.
When Dumbledore had finished everything else, he tried to heal her head and failed. He stopped, and cocked his head slightly to the side before casting several diagnostic spells on it.
"This was some very dark magic, whoever gave you this to you." Dumbledore said slowly, almost questioningly.
Hermione only gave him a sidelong glance before casting the countercurse to heal it and muttered, "Must've been Sectumsempra, I think it was Macnair, maybe Dolohov."
Dumbledore gave her another curious look as he walked over to a chest filled with numerous bottles and potions. He selected two and brought them over to her and held them out to her.
Hermione eyed him suspiciously and did not take them, "You first."
Dumbledore sighed slightly in what could only be defined as exasperation, "I assure you that I have done nothing to them, they are merely a pain and blood replenishment potion. But if you insist I will take a sip of each."
Hermione nodded her head in acceptance and drank some of each only after she had seen him swallow.
"Now, as for your shoulder, I am out of Essence of Dittany so I will have to floo Madam Pomfrey to come and give it to you. If you would be so kind as to drop your wards." Dumbledore said as he motioned around the office.
"No!" Hermione said perhaps a little too forcefully. She couldn't help the image that flashed across her mind of the mediwitch being hit in back by a killing curse as she tended a dying Seamus Finnigan. It seemed that Dumbledore was a bit behind the times, though she couldn't begrudge him not knowing about Madame Pomfrey when he didn't seem to know about his own death.
"I mean, I have some," she added hastily as she pulled her beaded purse from the inside pocket of her jacket. She inserted her arm up to the elbow and pulled out the dittany and handed it to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore only gave her another curious look before carefully pouring it onto the large gash on her shoulder. When he was done and the burning from the dittany had subsided he sat back down across from her.
Dumbledore settled down into his chair before starting what promised to be a long conversation.
"I would first like to address several concerns I have that may help us shed some light on our current situation. Obviously, there is the fact that you are adamant that I am dead. What is just as curious to me, other than the uncomfortable amount of information you know about me, is how you know about the Order of the Phoenix."
Hermione's jaw fell open as she stared at him. Seriously? This was his main concern? Dumbledore really needed to sort out his priorities. Now she knew how Ron felt.
"How could I not? I lived at headquarters for an entire summer, and I was inducted right after your funeral!"
Dumbledore did not react, merely studied her intently.
"I ask this, because I have not started the Order of the Phoenix yet, it is only an idea that I have been toying with. I wasn't intending on starting it until after the end of this school year."
Hermione leaned away from him as though he had struck her, "…what?"
"What also concerns me is the fact that several of the people you say you have fought recently are students here currently."
Hermione sputtered, "But that's not possible, they are old enough to be my parents!"
Dumbledore leaned forward and looked her directly in the eye,
"Miss Granger, what year is it?"
Hermione shifted uncomfortably before answering, "1998."
"I am not sure how, but it appears you are quite out of place," Dumbledore said, "The year is 1977."