Dear Mother,
Yes, I've been eating well. Hogwarts food agrees with me, and the house elves are to be commended for their talent. Though, I still miss Winky's cooking.
It is indeed cold. I'm glad you insisted on me bringing so many clothes with heat-conserving charm. I didn't think I would be living in the dungeon.
I made a friend. We met on the train. She's a Hufflepuff, so we don't get a lot of classes together. She also has her own friends in her house to spend her time with, so I suppose we are more like friendly acquaintances.
I am spending most of my time in the library, so I'm afraid I have little to share with you about my housemates.
All of them are purebloods, except for Derica Dowson. I would have befriended her if she wasn't so foolish in her attempt to make friends. She keeps on using crude words (you know which words I'm referring to.)
I am happy that you've been invited to the other ladies luncheon. Yes, I have a classmate from the Parkinson family. Her name is Cassandra. Amethyst Horston and Olivia Hornby are also my female classmates, you guessed correctly. There is also Valerie Orpington. I wonder why lady Parkinson did not mention her in her letter to you…
We are not close, I'm afraid. I hope it won't hinder you in making friends with lady Parkinson and the other ladies. Though I must ask, are you sure you want to join lady Parkinson's luncheon, Mother? She isn't your usual circle of friends… And I hope you do not discuss any 'match prospect' with them, Mother. Cassandra Parkinson has an older brother in seventh year who apparently hasn't found a match yet and is in desperate need to find one. He is an unpleasant boy to meet. I pity his future wife. Please do not introduce the Parkinsons to the daughters of your perfectly lovely Hufflepuff friends.
Now that I have shared my piece, it is my turn to barrage you with my own questions.
How are you, Mother? I hope you are not back to your previous habit. Waiting for Father in the floo room every night is pointless, I must remind you. You need your rest. Father can take care of himself. He is a big guy, with his shining career and everything.
Being a dutiful wife is only your obligation if Father reciprocates it by being a dutiful husband.
You have us, you don't need him.
(You can not see me now, but I am giving you a wink to tempt you.)
Please tell me if Barty is troubling you. I will set him straight.
That said, how is he holding on? Does he still sleep everywhere? Please have Winky check on him every so often, Mother. One of these days, I'm afraid he would fall and hurt his head.
How is Winky? Is she well? Please help her have her day off once a week Mother, even if I'm not there to beg her for it…
I miss you.
Love,
Maddy.
P.S. Can you send me the comb you usually used for my hair? I packed my own comb and it doesn't feel right…
.
It was mind numbing, to be taught things she already mastered. She punched down the urge to raise her hand every time the professors asked a question she knew the answer to, because it would be pointless.
(Hermione Granger didn't have that control, but Hermione Granger was a muggleborn and had something to prove. Madeline Crouch didn't.)
The assignments were similar to what she got in the past, so she knew where the references were and all the key points of the assignments. She was grateful for it. At least she wouldn't spend as much time on them as she did previously.
She adjusted her progress in classes to match her own in the past, and once again, even without trying to answer every question in class, her brilliance was acknowledged. Though this time, everyone was more willing to accept it.
It all came back to her blood.
(Not her blood, Madeline Crouch's blood.)
"Crouch."
She nodded at her classmate. "Wilkins. May I help you?"
It was breakfast time, just a day before their first potion class in October, and it seemed like her classmate already wanted some changes.
"Can I be your partner for potions?" He asked, sitting in front of her at the Slytherin table. Madeline only hummed as she ate her toast, urging the boy to elaborate on his request with her silence.
The boy understood, as he picked up his own toast. "Both Dowson and I are bad at it."
Ah, yes. Wilkins was the unlucky chap who got paired with the half blood. Madeline doubted that the only reason he wanted to change his partner was because they were both bad at it. Warrington and Pyrites also exploded their cauldron last week, but she didn't see them trying to change partners.
She drank her juice before replying. "Slughorn let me work by myself as a privilege, though. Why would I give up that privilege for you?"
"I will convince Slughorn to give you extra credit for helping me."
Madeline lifted her right eyebrow at him.
Slughorn had dubbed her the most talented witch in their year, and as her potion from two weeks ago was beyond excellent, he allowed her to be partnerless. The class had an odd number, you see.
Now, why would she, the best of her class, be interested in getting extra credit, through another person no less, from literally the easiest professor she would get credit from?
She was unimpressed by Wilkins' persuasion skill, and her face told him so.
The boy fidgeted from her stare, hands hesitantly putting his toast back at the plate.
She sighed.
Wilkes Wilkins was a plump child, all dark eyes and hair. He was not one to speak up, preferring to follow the lead of others, perhaps that was why he got to be paired up with Dowson to begin with. All of that added with his poor potion skill made her think of Neville.
She knew that she shouldn't encourage him with his aversion towards the so-called 'lesser blood', but… it was Dowson.
"Fine." Urgh.
The boy grinned.
.
Wilkins was not lying when he said he was bad at potion. She really had to guide him step by step, reminding him little bits of instructions that he should have known.
Madeline curled her lips as Wilkins again didn't know that the bat spleen was not supposed to be cut using the knife previously used for crushing the puffer-fish eyes.
"You need to actually read the book before you start brewing something." She scolded.
Wilkin shrunk. "I thought reading the instructions while brewing would be enough."
Then read it thoroughly! Her mind screamed.
"Potions is a delicate art," is what she said instead. "Each ingredient has its own nature and caution in its use. The instruction is just a brief summary of what you must do, but not all the things you need to do." He would have known this if Slughorn wasn't too busy asking his students about their parents.
They continued to work. Each time Wilkins almost made a mistake, Madeline would stop him just in time and inform him what he did wrong. Each time, Wilkins listened carefully. Never once did he get annoyed at her for lecturing him, which was already very different from what she used to.
Their potion turned out perfect, of course.
"A splendid batch of swelling solution, Miss Crouch!" The professor gushed. "I see that you succeeded in helping Mister Wilkins. But I suppose Mister Black and Mister Lestrange beat you by finishing theirs first this time."
The two boys mentioned, who also had just turned in their potion, smiled politely.
Wilkins helped her clean their desk after that, as he asked her why certain things must be done when they brewed the potion. Madeline happily accommodated him with her text-book explanation.
"You got an O, Wilkes?" Pyrites asked from the desk in front of them, making her partner's chest puffed.
Lestrange, who just walked passed by with his partner, snorted. "That goes without saying, with his partner being you, Crouch."
She hummed at his direct address. She didn't see the point of humility with them, so she did nothing to contradict him.
Pyrites nodded, "a major step up from the half blood girl, for sure."
Ah, there it was.
The occasional jab to the 'filthier' kind.
Hermione wanted to strangle them. Why couldn't they stop talking about blood for a whole damn minute? And their argument wasn't even valid. Their friend is a pureblood, for Merlin's sake! By their logic, shouldn't their friend get an O by himself because of his blood?
Oh, how could she forget? They did not have an ounce of logic in their bones. At all!
They wouldn't be smiling if they knew that it was a mudblood who had helped their friend getting an Outstanding.
Madeline continued to clean her desk in silence, ignoring the boys chattering all around her. She started to regret accepting Wilkin's request. As her eyes trailed off to the table where all the other girls sat, she caught the glare Dowson threw at her, as if Madeline had burned her books or something. Or maybe not books, she didn't think Dowson valued them enough. Whatever. Everything was frustrating. Being Madeline was frustrating. She just wanted to finish her mission in peace, damn it all!
"May I escort you back to the dorm, Crouch?" offered Wilkins as soon as their table was spotless.
Madeline was not in the mood to entertain their insipid ideas, which surely would be sprinkled in their small, supposed polite, talk. So she declined.
"I will escort myself." She nodded at the others, "excuse me."
Madeline waited no time to leave the lab.
"Shame with her manners," she heard Pyrites dug on her as she left, not that she cared.
Being a pureblood female, she wasn't supposed to walk by herself. She must have someone accompanying her, whether it were fellow witches or a wizard escort.
But that custom was archaic, and worse, it hindered her mission.
Madeline did not see the fault in only using the custom whenever it was convenient to her.
Alone, she went straight to the library.
.
For weeks, Madeline tried to read everything as she was in desperate need of stimulating material. School started to get boring, and Hermione wondered if she could just.. not care about Madeline's schooling. Bad thought. Mother and Barty would surely be disappointed in her if she ever did that.
Her research then had not been fruitful. She spent many times reading everything, trying to get ideas from them, but Hermione was not really known for her creativity. She commended the twins, their pieces of magic were surely extraordinary. Extraordinary, and complicated. They layered charms and potions to make them, and Madeline knew that cross-branch magic had its own fundamentals. It wasn't even covered in NEWTS. Thankfully, though, she found some books that discussed it. They were her family's books, and she wondered if the Weasley family had similar books.
So there she was, reading those books and minding her own business in the privacy of her bed, when a sound of clearing throat disrupted her peace.
She looked up, meeting four faces in the result. It was Cassandra Parkinson and her clique.
Parkinson had been trying to 'collect' Madeline Crouch in her little group. Not out of the kindness of her heart, mind you, it was clear that she had this idea of being their year's leader for the girls and the top of the pyramid, along with Regulus Black as her counterpart. Horston and Hornby were her sheeps, as they did not have the prestige of having a sacred-twenty eight family name, and they allowed Dowson to follow them around and enlarge their already big head.
Madeline Crouch had little interest in their petty show of power-grabbing.
"May I help you?"
Cassandra Parkinson was one persistent girl, though.
"Would you like to sit with us in the Great Hall, Crouch?" Her voice was sweet, yet Madeline could hear the underlying annoyance from her shallow breath. Did Madeline decline her invitation far too many times? Even if she did, Madeline had no intention to stop.
"I would love to," she presented to them an apologetic smile, "but I must finish these books first. I need to finish them in haste, you see. There is quite a bit of a reason why, though I won't bore you with the details. I was thinking of skipping dinner. Perhaps next time, girls?"
She was not lying about there being a reason. Mother had not caught up on the missing books, but it wouldn't be long until she did. She did lie about how she would love to join them, though.
It was eerie how similar Cassandra Parkinson was with Pansy Parkinson, with her pug nose and wide jaw. Cassandra must be Pansy's aunt, but she supposed the Parkinson blood was strong. But it was her being thicker-than a concussed troll that fixed her to be just another Pansy in Madeline's mind.
"Skipping dinner again, Crouch?" The girl prodded, her eyes widened, filled with fake curiosity. "One might think you are trying to keep your figure."
Madeline fought the urge to roll her eyes. What figure? Her body was an eleven years old girl!
Horston hummed, as if agreeing with her internal argument. Though she supposed it was just the girl adding a jab as she followed Parkinson's lead. "I don't think you need to, Crouch. I mean, you're one skipped meal away from being all skin and bones."
"So you must join us." Hornby finished, lacking subtlety as always.
Dowson glared at the floor.
It must be quite irritating seeing them insisting another girl, one that didn't appear to be interested in making friends, to join them for dinner, as Dowson had to do a lot of groveling to be accepted in Parkinson's clique. It was her own fault though, and Madeline couldn't care less.
"I still need to finish the books," she enunciated, perhaps a little too hard, judging by the clenched jaw of Parkinson and Hornby's rolling eyes.
Parkinson nodded stiffly. "We'll leave you to your books, then. Come, girls."
As Madeline was left in her own company, she could snort freely and that was exactly what she did.
Children, all of them. As if she was going to be deterred from reading books by their plain insult on her look. Besides, Madeline Crouch had nothing to be insecure of. With blue eyes, delicate features, and tameable curly blonde hair, even Hermione had resented her new appearance. No bucked teeth or frizzy hair, not plain. Still had freckles, though, even if each of them had slightly different positions…
Never mind that. She must focus on what's important. Her mission.
Madeline leaned on her pillow and continued to read.
.
As she spent so much of her time in the library or her room, she rarely encountered anything of note. It was only when she trailed off from her route to the Dungeon, walking through a corridor of empty classes, that she saw the Baron.
This time, it was she who froze.
In her attempt to focus on Madeline Crouch's life while doing her own studies, she had completely ignored all that happened at the opening feast. She forgot that the Slytherin ghost was acting strangely towards her, and that the reason behind it could possibly expose herself as a body-snatcher of a girl.
Contrasting to his action during the feast, the Baron started to swim towards her. Madeline waited from her place, as her mind was raging. Why the change of attitude?
"Evening, miss," the Baron saluted. "Hogwarts sent their greeting."
Once again, she shouldn't be so surprised. But she was. "Hogwarts speaks to you?"
"I am a ghost of Hogwarts."
Hermione wanted to smack her own face. Of course they did. She straightened her back. "Can I talk to Hogwarts?"
The Baron looked at her as if she was a fool for questioning it, as if the answer was always clear. Did he think she was omniscient?
"Undoubtedly. You are connected to Hogwarts magic."
"But how?" She implored. "I couldn't hear anything from them..."
The Baron, being a ghost, appeared to not care much for her question as he started to swim away, and Hermione rushed to follow him. "Please, sir. I need to speak with them."
"You need only ask," the Baron spoke cryptically, still swimming away, "and they will provide you answers."
With that, the Baron vanished from her sight, leaving Hermione to solve his riddle. It was like he didn't hear the urgency in her voice at all, she scowled. She shook her head, organizing her thoughts.
Ask, and they will provide.
The room of requirements, her mind screamed.
Hermione wanted to run, but Madeline was taught better than that. She walked, trying to maintain her grace while racing to the seventh floor. In front of the dancing troll painting, she paced.
'I need to talk with Hogwarts. I need to talk with Hogwarts. I need to talk with Hogwarts.'
A door appeared and without hesitation, Hermione walked in.
.
The room provided her with a space. Just a space, all white. She wondered if this was the room in the purest form. As she walked in, she took notice that the white was endless.
"Hermione Granger. Or is it Madeline Crouch, now?"
Her breath hitched. She knew that voice. She didn't even bother looking around, as she kept walking deep into the room, surrounded by nothing. The voice started this madness, she internally screamed. But it was a voice that knew who she was, who she had been.
Hogwarts' voice once again felt like it came from all around her, and a ton of burden felt like it had been lifted from her shoulder. She was not so alone anymore. Deeply, she inhaled. "Hogwarts. I am very glad I can talk to you again. I have so many questions..."
"We will answer them to the best of our abilities."
She sighed in relief.
This past month had been hard on her mind. She couldn't stop worrying about everything, and the ghosts of her pasts haunted her, in the shape of everyone she knew from the future. Not to mention Harry -James, actually, seemed to be everywhere. She tried so hard to push him in the background of her senses.
Hermione was back with her nightmares, and this time she didn't have Mother to help her through it.
But now she could have her questions answered.
"Alright," she took another deep breath, "my first question: why Madeline Crouch? Why bother putting me in a child's dead body years before the Halloween night would happen. Why not put me in an adult body near it or use my own body for the time travel?"
It had been driving her insane. This was not her usual time travel, where she had to be unseen. She was living a life, and Hermione didn't understand why she had to. It would be much simpler if Hogwarts put her in an adult body in 1979, or even 1980.
"We are not using time magic, Hermione Granger."
She frowned at the reply. First, it didn't answer her questions. Second, it only made her more confused than ever. "Of course you are... I'm here. In the past."
"Hogwarts used another magic," the voice interjected, "A mixture between the magic of fate and soul, that displaced yours to another's."
Hermione nodded, processing Hogwarts's words.
She didn't know anything about magic of fate and soul. Soul Magic was an old branch, something that wasn't discussed freely in recent books. She barely even knew about soul bonds and horcruxes. Fate magic on the other hand, sounded practically identical with Divination and Hermione didn't think it was actually a thing. Now that Hogwarts said that they were using those unknown magic on her...
The reality that she was going on this mission blindly punched her across the face just then.
She shook her head, "Alright... what is it means?"
"That you are Madeline Crouch."
She frowned. She didn't understand. "I am Hermione Granger. In Madeline Crouch's body. I know i have been living her life, but after the mission, surely i would have to go back to my own bo-"
She froze, as she remembered something once told to her.
Hogwarts said she was dead, that day after the explosion. But surely if they could put her soul in a dead girl's body, they could put her back in her own body?
She forgot that Hogwarts could read her mind. She didn't have to speak her questions out loud for them to answer the influx of questions that overflowed her.
"The magic we used consumed the souls as its price. It's sacrificial magic," Hogwarts started, snapping her to focus, "and with it we sacrificed the soul and fate of two people, in exchange for one. As your soul and fate have a strong imprint of temporal magic, you are the most suitable being to be displaced in time. Why we bother using Madeline Crouch, a child's body years before that fated night is that you will have to take over their life. An adult already has decisions made throughout the years, a child has not. We thought it would be in your best interest to let you be yourself more. When the time comes for Hermione Granger to cease, you will have been merged perfectly with the life of Madeline Crouch."
There was so much to unpack there, words that Hermione couldn't even comprehend correctly at the moment, but her mind was stuck in a couple of words.
"Hermione Granger... will cease," she parroted.
"Yes." Hogwarts, mercilessly, replied. "Your soul and fate has been displaced, and eventually, just like how the previous Madeline Crouch had ceased, so will Hermione Granger, leaving you as the new Madeline Crouch."
The words kept repeating in her mind. Hermione Granger will cease. Hermione Granger will cease. Over and over again, and she remembered to breathe again after too long of a time she had to gasp for breath.
Putting her in Madeline Crouch's life, in exchange for Hermione Granger and the original Madeline Crouch's lifes and fates.
"So Hermione Granger will cease." She repeated, the words tasted wrong in her tongue, and something was turning in her stomach.
"Yes."
The simple answer was making her feel weaker in the knees. "Would there be another soul, in my- in Hermione Granger's body?"
"There will be no Hermione Granger at all, as Hermione Granger will not be born."
(Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time.)
"I will continue to be Madeline Crouch," she shrieked, "even after i finish my mission, and there won't be Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter?"
It was spoken like a question, but she already knew the answer to it. Hogwarts only confirmed it.
"Correct."
She shook her head. This couldn't be happening. She might not understand about soul magic or magic of fate, or whatever, but she knew that removing Hermione Granger from existence would have consequences!
So she voiced it out.
"What about the timeline? Without Hermione Granger, many things will change!"
"There is no timeline, Hermione Granger." Hogwarts' voice was as dull as ever. No tone, no emotion. She was getting sick of it. "We did not use time magic. Magic of fate is led by actions."
"So I am stuck here."
Hogwarts didn't bestow her with an answer, or perhaps, she didn't give them a chance to do it, as Hermione Granger bolted out from the room.
.
With tears brimming in her eyes, Hermione's feet led her unconsciously to her real home, stairs by stairs, to the Gryffindor tower.
She hiccuped, finding herself in front of the fat lady.
She didn't know the password.
(You're no longer a part of the pride, remember?)
Hermione ran again, avoiding the reality, this time to a clearing where she punched Malfoy across the face.
(There was no Malfoy to punch, though. Only Lucius Malfoy, a seventh year Slytherin here in Hogwarts, probably loitering in the dungeon.)
She dropped to the grass and cried, hugging her knees.
All her sorrow, the pain not yet healed from her future, were now mixing with the ugly truth of her current life.
Madeline Crouch was her new life, and she didn't realize until now that her new life came at the cost of her past, future life. All those nights in the tower with Harry and Ron, just sitting by the fire. All those bickering, the heartfelt compliments, the trouble magnet thing Harry got... she wouldn't experience it again.
She wouldn't get a chance to bring her parents' memories back.
With tears brimming her eyes, she hugged her knees closer to her.
It was all because she blindly accepted Hogwarts' offer to fix everything. Why didn't she ask more before she jumped in? Why did she have to be a brash, foolish Gryffindor at that time?
(Would it change your decision, though? It was your life or the future of magic.)
There got to be another way. If they had more time that day-
(But there wasn't any more time. Hogwarts was getting tainted by the second.)
She let out a frustrated scream.
These arguments with herself went on for a whole while. She was sick of it, but she couldn't stop either. Her mind was raging.
After some time though, she finally managed to calm down.
Hermione would probably have a harder time to rein her emotions, but Madeline Crouch was trained to be a graceful heiress.
So she straightened her back, breathing deeply through her nose as her mind gently occluded. She smoothed out her robe, cleaning it from grass and dirt with a swish of her wand.
She couldn't change anything. She probably wouldn't change anything, if given the opportunity to. Hermione had said she would do anything to prevent the collapse of Hogwarts, and erasing her own existence was indeed included in the term 'anything'.
She will not regret anything.
One cry was enough to mourn the existence of Hermione Granger.
(It wasn't, though.)
.
10-12-72
Dear sister,
Why did you not answer our last letters? I thought you said you were bored. Do you have a new friend? Mother is worried.
I've been reading on the foundation of transfiguration. I think it's really cool that there is a sub-branch of magic that turns human into anything. I hope I'll be able to do it. I have wanted to turn Mr. Morax into some kind of rodent for a whole while now. Out of all our tutors, he really is the worst, isn't he?
Anyway, are you still doing your exercise? Did you run through the Forbidden forest? Did you meet a centaur?
I don't think I want to do the exercises without you. I didn't run last weekend. It's such a chore without you doing it with me.
Mother finally realised that some books are missing. She's been asking Winky about it. Do you want me to lie to her, or should i tell her the truth? When are you going to tell her yourself?
That's right, Evan said he's friends with Regulus Black and Rabastan Lestrange from your year. Do you know them? Evan told me they're a smart bunch and can give you some competition. I beg to differ. You're too smart to be compared with others your age. I told Evan you're probably smarter than Albus Dumbledore, but he didn't take me seriously. Help me out and prove him wrong, alright?
Counting on you,
Your brother.