Note:

So I was going through my files, saw the documents for this, and decided what the heck. I'm officially unabandoning this story. I took some time to adjust my outline, and I think its better. I guess we will see. Let me know if i made any really terrible errors. I might post one or two more tonight as an apology for waiting so long.

Thank you guys for anyone who is still reading this old thing. Its also posted on AO3 under the same name.

Chapter 14:

For the second time that day Harry, Hermione and Snape just stared at each other over Malfoy's bleeding body. Nobody moved, even the portraits were uncharacteristically still.

"Potter…?" Snape's face, while pale at this point from shock, was rapidly starting to color and Harry knew he was only seconds away from exploding yet again. His hand flicked to the pocket of his baggy robes and appeared to be only seconds from drawing his wand.

He knew what would happen then, and he had no desire to go through that whole incident again. He could still hear the cracking of the wood as his wand was snapped, a sound he knew was going to feature in his nightmares from now on. He began backing up towards the undestroyed suit of armor, hoping that he could dive behind it faster than Snape could cast.

Snape blasted off the same ball of light as he had the first time and then swept over to the prone form of Crabbe and Goyle. He fixed Harry with a glare that could have cut stone.

Looking into Snape's eyes, all Harry could see was the man's face as that Umbridge woman snapped his wand and arrested him. Unbridled primal joy, as if getting every present he wanted at Christmas all at once, at seeing a 13-year-old boy being arrested and expelled. It was sickening. Even Harry, who was used to the worst that people could throw at him because of his relatives, felt stunned at the level of cruelty in the man's gaze.

And then all at once, from somewhere deep inside him, that stunned feeling shifted to pure rage. Rage at Snape, not just for today but for the unfair way he had been treated since he had set foot in his classroom. Rage at his relatives for his whole life. Rage at Malfoy for starting this whole event. Even rage at Sirius Black, the current great unknown boogy-man threatening his life. 3 of 3 in 3 years on psychopaths. It was as if the dam behind which he hid his emotions had finally cracked, and all he could see was red.

Snape drew his wand, his lips turning into their trademark sneer. "Not so fast Potter…"

He never got to finish his sentence because that was the moment Harry chose to charge him.

His feet seemed to have a mind of their own as he practically floated across the corridor towards Snape. The potions master sneer only deepened as he shot a spell at the charging third year. However, to his great shock, Harry managed to duck the spell and launched himself, wrapping Snape up in a perfect spear tackle. His weight launched both of them off of Goyle and onto the hard stone of the floor.

"HARRY NO", shrieked Hermione, who Harry had almost forgotten was there.

The two of them landed hard, Harry on top of Snape's chest. He reared back, and with a surprising amount of force for the small and skinny teenager that he was, punched Snape right in the eye. Then he punched him again, and again.

Snape, who had been stunned into inaction to this point, started to struggle and reach for his wand his had rolled out of reach, but it was too late. Harry's punches only increased in intensity and Snape found his vision starting to grow dim. Normally, knocking a person unconscious would be enough, but Harry, blinding by rage at this point, kept going. His fists came back bloody when he pulled them back, but he kept going. He felt something crack and squish beneath his hands, but he kept going. All he could see was Snape's stupid sneering face, and his rage was not satisfied.

He could hear the rapid pounding of footsteps coming towards him. He threw back his head and let out a war cry…

Suddenly he was back to staring at Snape from across the corridor, green light flooding from his hand. He didn't stop to think, simply charged him again. This time he managed to strike bone before the green light yanked him back to staring at Snape again.

And on it went.

Later, if pressed, Harry could not have told you how long he spent attacking Severus Snape. Certainly more than an hour, but it could have been days, a week maybe. His fists hit every inch of the man they could find. His punches grew faster and faster until they were lost in a green blur of motion. Sometimes, he focused on the face, sometimes the torso, every few rounds he focused exclusively on kicking him in the balls as hard as he could. It got to the point where sometimes his fists would hit the stone of the corridor beneath Snape's body before he would go back.

Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Harry was worried. All of this rage was coming from somewhere, and he didn't know if it was all from him. It felt too sudden, too intense for it to be natural.

"Good" a new deep voice that was not his own whispered in his head, "He is your enemy, strike him down. He stands in the way of all that you want to achieve. Make it so that he never rises again."

A hand appeared on his shoulder roughly grabbing him and pulling him back. The cloud of uncontrolled anger lifted as quickly as it went, leaving Harry with an aching fist. He saw Hermione, still covered in Malfoy's blood, with a hand over her mouth and tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

"Harry" she whispered, "What have you done?"

He followed her eyeline and, for the first time, saw what he had done to Snape through eyes unclouded by rage.

The Potion master wasn't moving and wouldn't ever move again. The right half of his face was caved in, his eye dangling out of its socket to one side. His mouth, what was left of it, was a mass of broken teeth and blood; he appeared to have bitten his tongue off. Harry could see bits of dark oozing material and bits of cracked skull through the cuts on his forehead. His good eye was vacantly glaring at the ceiling.

"I…" He started before seeing the mass of teachers sprinting down the corridor at them, wands raised.

Suddenly, a hand reached and swiped at his ankle weakly. Snape, despite all evidence to the contrary was still moving. Whether he was truly alive, or it was a death twitch, Harry didn't know and he was not sticking around to find out. On instinct, he reached for the stone's power and sent himself back in time. Or rather, he should say he sent them back in time.

When he returned to the corridor again, Hermione was standing next to him, still holding onto his shoulder. The look of horror and confusion in her eyes told him that she knew exactly what had happened.

Before Snape could move to accost them for a third time, Harry took Hermione's hand and dove into the empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind them. He shouldered a nearby heavy desk in front of the door. Silence fell for a few minutes.

"Harry? What the… how did you…" Hermione sputtered looking for all the world as if she had run several miles while wearing weighted robes. "Snape was…dead, wasn't he? You…killed him. I saw it, I SAW it. He was dead. Nobody could survive that. And now he isn't. But that impossible. And all that green light." She rambled, more so talking to calm herself down than expecting a response from Harry.

Harry flapped his hands at her, rather more concerned with the angry potions master that was sure to come bursting through the door any second. "Look it's a long story but I need to tell it to you later. I don't want to have to relive this day yet again if I can help it. I need you to trust me for a few more minutes."

Hermione looked for all the world as if she wanted to refuse and hear the whole story now, but the tired expression on his face stopped her. She grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. "Later then" She conceded, "You going to explain this later or so help me Harry Potter…"

Harry nodded firmly and was going to swing his attention back to the door but was distracted by a bright green glow around Hermione's neck. It looked like a necklace. Since when had she had that and how could he possibly have missed it glowing that bright?

"Hermione?" he said, "What's that around your neck?"

A thunderous pounding echoed from the door. A loud voice came from outside, but the blood and adrenaline was still pounding too loud in his ears for him to hear. Harry aimed his wand at the door, intending to blast Snape if he was first through. He wouldn't be arrested again.

Sure enough, within a few seconds the door came blasting off its hinges in a cacophony of shattering wood and screeching metal. The airborne door took out desks as it collided with the back wall of the classroom. It also kicked up a huge cloud of dust blinding everyone in the room.

Someone came charging through the door, and Harry fired off a spell to attack but had his wrist wrenched up by Hermione. The spell collided with he stone above the door.

Standing in the doorway was Professor McGonagall, flanked by Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout.

The Scottish professor looked angrier than Harry had ever seen her. "Do either of you…" she said in a voice like a Scottish winter, "care to explain just what the hell is going up here?"

Madam Pomfrey took one look at the two of them and forced an unknown potion down his and Hermione's throats that tasted like rotten fruit and made him feel like he was floating. After that, Harry didn't really care what happened, content to be led down the hall in a procession of stretchers in a blissful haze to the hospital wing.

Unfortunately, the good feeling didn't last long once he got to a bed. Hermione was force-fed a mixture that had her instantly slipping into a deep sleep. A swarm of professors bustled around the hospital wing, darting in and out of the curtains around the beds. Ron, who was by now fully transformed into a lizard, and Goyle, still made of wood, were quickly levitated out of the hospital wing by a team of witches and wizards from St. Mungo's in dark red robes speaking in fast technical jargon.

No sooner had the door shut on them before it slammed open again, this time admitting Snape, who had a look of fury in his eyes, and Dumbledore, who looked as tired as Harry felt. The two of them made a beeline over to Harry.

Snape didn't even reach the bed before he started. "In all my years Potter…" he sounded like he had to spit the name past his lips, "never have I seen such destruction caused before the first class of the day. Tell me did you intentionally attack Malfoy, or did you regularly curse those around you as sport? Quidditch not enough for you anymore, so you go hunting students? You will tell me exactly what you did to my Slytherins, or so help me I will see you arrested before tea!"

"Severus…" Dumbledore said in a long-suffering voice, but Snape ignored him, clearly on a roll.

"Not even your father ever managed to cause so much suffering in so little time. You should take pride in knowing that wherever is he burning now, you outdid even that arrogant swine… "

"Severus!" Dumbledore didn't raise his voice, but it still seemed to echo around the high ceiling room. "That is enough."

"Headmaster, this boy, this demon…"

"Enough! You will return to your classes. I will question Mr. Potter."

"Sir…"

"You may go." A hint of steel crept in his voice, a voice that brokered no argument.

Snape looked between the two of them several times before he threw his hands up and stormed away, his cloak flying behind him. His dark mutterings linger behind him.

Dumbledore conjured one of his signature chintz armchairs and fell into it with a deep sigh "Now then Harry, it would benefit you explain exactly what happened this morning. Now. Spare no detail. "

Harry took a depth breath and explained the entire story from when he got up from breakfast to right now, carefully leaving out any mentions of mysterious rocks and any time travel associated with it. As he spoke, he could feel the stone around his neck, pulsing in time with his words like a second heartbeat.

Dumbledore sat back; his hands clasped together. "I see. And you say you were not present when any of the initial spells were fired? "

"No I was on another floor entirely, trying to get to class." Harry claimed, grateful to be listened to

"Let me see your wand, Harry." The headmaster held out one long fingered hand, and Harry deposited his wand in it. He pulled out his own wand, and enchanted "Prior Incantato." Out of the tip of Harry's wand came a ghostly set of teeth, an alarm clock, and a pair of broken eyeglasses.

Dumbledore let out a sigh and his shoulder's seemed to relax a fraction. "It seems you were correct, but I am still very disappointed that you did not go to one of your professors, instead choosing to engage in immature schoolyard roughhousing. That is why you will be serving two weeks detention with Mr. Filch."

Harry began to protest that the spells Malfoy had been throwing were not immature, but Dumbledore cut him off. "Everyone involved in this incident will be punished, rest assured, but you should be thankful that the consequences of this indecent were not much more severe."

A high, girlish, and unfortunately familiar voice spoke up at the foot of the bed. "Excuse me headmaster, but did you say you were only going to give a two-week detention for this heinous crime? And that you were going to punish the victim as well? Oh no I am afraid that won't do at all." Delores Umbridge stood at the foot of the bed, just as pink and toad like as the last time Harry had seen her.

"Good morning, Delores, it is a pleasure to see you again." Dumbledore said as if it were perfectly expected for her to be there. "How can I help you?"

She spoke to Dumbledore, but her eyes never left Harry, a hunger in them. "I am simply here to make sure that Mr. Potter, is properly punished for attacking those poor boys."

"Why Delores, I was not aware that the minster had placed you in charge of punishments for schoolyard tiffs. Congratulations are in order on such a promotion! However, you should be happy to know that I have investigated and have assigned young Harry here the approximate punishment for his crime as per my right as his headmaster."

Her smile only widened "But it is our right, as the school board, to investigate any complaints made by concerned parents or cases of blatant favoritism by school officials."

"Our right, Delores?"

"Yes, were you not informed? The minster felt it would be prudent to have a ministry insider on the board, to make sure there was not a repeat of last year's fiasco. I was appointed to fill Mr. Malfoy's seat."

Here she turned to speak to Harry, "Mr. Potter if you would follow me, the board has assembled to hear a complaint against you made by Mr. Malfoy on behalf of his son."

Umbridge hurried around the bed, locked her hand around his arm and began to physically pull him out of bed. Before she could get more than a foot, her arms and legs snapped to her sides.

An enraged Madam Pomfrey pocketed her wand as she emerged from the door of her office. "Excuse me Madam Umbridge" she spat with a heavy sarcasm on the word madam, "Where do you think you are going with my patient?"

The toad witch was, of course, unable to answer as she could not move a single muscle at the moment. Dumbledore sighed, and looking as though he would rather be elsewhere, pulled out his wand.

Umbridge unfroze and immediately lunged for the matron, drawing her own wand. She was shrieking about her right to defend herself as a pureblood and ministry official when Pomfrey promptly refroze her. She stiffened mid jump, and fell to the floor face first, her nose making a nauseating cracking noise when it collided with the stone floor.

The headmaster fixed his matron with a look that clearly pleaded, 'Please stop attacking high ranking government officials.' He spared Harry a glance and then went back to her. 'at least in front of the children.'

She blushed and stammered "She attacked first!"

Dumbledore, clearly done with the conversation, stood, and sighed and then addressed the prone Umbridge. "Delores, since you can clearly not restrain yourself from attacking my staff and students, I am not going to unfreeze you until we get to the hearing." He levitated her off the ground, blood gushing from her crushed nose. "Poppy, if you will attend as a witness?"

"One second headmaster let me deal with Mr. Potter here." Harry, who to this point had been sitting in a kind of tired, stunned silence perked up at the mention of his name but it was already too late.

Pomfrey forced a vial past his lips and poured a very familiar substance down his throat. He had just a moment to recognize the bitter taste of Dreamless sleep potion before he felt himself being pulled under. The last thing he remembered was the lock on the hospital wing door clicking shit.

It was dark outside when Harry fought his way to consciousness again. It was late, clearly well past curfew. The curtains around the occupied beds were drawn shut and there was no light spilling around the edge of the matron office. All was quiet.

Harry fell back against his pillows with relief. Clearly something had gone different this time if he wasn't being dragged out of bed and arrested by faceless thugs. Maybe Dumbledore had made a better argument, or the presence of Madam Pomfrey had swayed them but either way it did not matter.

He could find out in the morning. Despite just waking up he felt as if he had just run a mile. 'Yes', he thought to himself 'I could do with a few more hours of sleep'

He rolled over to do just that to find himself staring into the face of Hermione, sitting not three feet from his bed.

She looked deep in thought, and she stared Harry directly in the eye. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Finally she spoke in a flat voice.

"It's later."

He had been expecting this but had to at least try to deflect. "Later? Hermione what are you…"

She kept talking, right over top of him as though he hadn't spoken at all. "You said we would talk later about what happened to Professor Snape, and that I had to trust you. And I did. I did trust you. And here we are at later. So I would like an explanation please, right now." She looked at him expectantly.

Harry gulped and tried to talk his way out without giving anything away. "Look I don't know what you saw but clearly Malfoy hit us both with some kind of spell and we both saw some weird things…"

She fixed him with a glare that he could feel in his bones. "You expect me…" she started, her voice rising in fury with every word, "to believe that Malfoy of all people managed to hit us with a spell so powerful that we started seeing things that aren't there? Things like dead professors and best friends murdering them? Malfoy, the boy who couldn't turn his mouse into a chess piece last week? That Malfoy?" Harry winced; the story sounded weak even to him.

He looked around, sure that her screaming would have attracted Pomfrey, but she appeared to have put some kind of silencing spell around them.

She was still screaming, her voice now bordering on the edge of hysteria. "And… and you really expect me to believe this… this bullshit? I saw him lying there…"

Suddenly she was crying, drawing her knees up to her chest. "He was DEAD. And I saw him lying there, and then he wasn't. And I don't like him, I don't, but I know him, and he was just dead. You won't even tell me what happened, which means that you don't trust me or that it's so bad that you CAN'T tell me which means I'm going to lose you too and…"

Harry felt something inside him break watching Hermione cry. This was one his best friends, his only one until Ron was fixed from being a lizard, and she was clearly hurting, traumatized. He couldn't let her stay like this, even if he had to tell her the truth.

In that moment, Harry made a decision that would change his life, Hermione's life, and the lives of every person in two universes.

He reached out and took Hermione's hand. "Don't cry Hermione, I'll tell you everything."