Chapter 3

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Thanks to my beta (LadySunflower) and reviewers.

Chapter 3

“…miracle that she’s alive.” The unfamiliar voice seemed to come from somewhere far away.

“She will make a full recovery, I trust?” That voice was familiar, and sounded clearer than the first, coming from the right.

“Yes, although I would recommend at least a week of bed rest. Her injuries from the car crash have healed, but the emotional trauma will be long lasting. Add to that a reopened curse scar on her chest… she’s not out of the woods yet, Albus.” The first voice was also clearer now, coming from the left.

“Yes, shock from the experience of such an accident will no doubt haunt her,” Albus said. The name rang a bell.

“Albus, she was the only survivor, if that is the correct word to use in these circumstances.”

“Her parents are dead?” Albus’s tone was more strident now, echoing oddly.

“And her familiar. She’ll need a new wand, too.”

Albus sighed. “A tragic start to Miss Granger’s school year.”

“Allow me to reassure you that she is safe here. Minister Scrimgeour has no jurisdiction within these walls, although several Healers did refuse to treat her. I myself am fascinated by the concept that someone can be brought back from the dead.” The first voice was apparently a Healer, if one with morbid interests.

“The problem, Augustus, is that you have told me that she was dead when the Muggle ambulance reached her, but was brought back to life somehow. Necromancy has an even worse stigma to it than lycanthropy for the victims involved.”

“I know, Albus. Still fascinating, if perplexing. The results from my tests imply that there was no outside factor.”

“Meaning?” Albus sounded almost frightened, his voice trembling.

“A Necromancer didn’t bring her back; she is the Necromancer. It’s the only possible explanation I can think of.”

At those words, a jolt of unadulterated panic roused Hermione to full consciousness. She’d been listening the Dumbledore and the Healer talk as she drifted awake, barely aware of what was being discussed, not understanding the meaning. Now she understood all too well.

‘This can’t be real! I’m dreaming; none of this has happened. None of it! I’ll wake up in my own bed at home any minute now.’ Hermione didn’t move as she put every effort into opening her eyes. ‘Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!’

Her eyes cracked open, bright lights dazzling her. When her eyes finally adjusted, she was most distressed to see Albus Dumbledore facing a young man in the green robes of a Healer across the bed she was lying in.

“No!” Hermione cried out as she attempted to sit up, only to find herself restrained, magic binding her to the bed. “Headmaster, please. Tell me it’s not true. It can’t be!” She struggled to no avail, sparks flying as the magic bonds reacted to her frenzied movements. Both men turned, mirrored concern on their faces.

“I’m sorry, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore shook his head, his beard waving gently with the motion.

“NO! They can’t be. They can’t be. I’m not a…” Hermione trailed off, unable to say the words. Saying it would mean it was true.

“Miss Granger, please calm yourself. You need peace and quiet.” The Healer was summarily ignored.

“This isn’t real. Wake up,” Hermione whispered to herself.

“I assure you this is not a dream, child. You must come to terms with this, or your brilliant mind will crack under the strain of denial.” Dumbledore stepped closer, his concerned gaze fixed on Hermione.

“I don’t want to. If this is reality, then any dream world is better than this!” Hermione’s voice was getting increasingly shrill, to the point of cracking on words.

Dumbledore’s eyes hardened. His words were harder. “You must. Harry needs you. Do you think he can succeed against Voldemort,” the Healer shuddered at the name, “without you?”

Hermione shut her eyes, her eyes achingly dry. “I. Don’t. Care. Anymore,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

“YOU MUST!” Dumbledore roared, causing the Healer to flinch. Hermione opened her eyes to see the only wizard Voldemort feared resplendent in his anger. However, her own anguish was too great for her to be intimidated by the sight.

“Why? What can I do? Necromancy is the darkest magic out there, how can it assist the light?” Hermione asked, despondent.

“You are strong, Miss Granger. If anyone can control the dark powers of Necromancy and use them for light ends, it is you.” Dumbledore had calmed down, weariness prominent in his voice.

“So it’s come to that, the ends justifying the means. I knew things were bad, just not that bad.” Hermione felt all of her energy leave her as a great weight seemed to settle on her soul. She sighed. “You must have great faith in me, Professor.”

“Indeed I do. Now, before I can leave you in peace, you must know this: you are not safe outside St. Mungo’s. Hogwarts will be safest, but you must not leave here without an escort. You know by now who to trust.” Dumbledore took his leave, but turned back before he left the ward. “Augustus, I trust you will not tell anyone of what we have discussed. Rufus Scrimgeour will be the least of our problems if Voldemort catches wind of this.”

After Dumbledore left, the Healer turned to leave.

“Wait! What did he mean about the Minister?” Hermione blurted. The Healer turned back, coming close enough for her to read his name from his robes. Healer Pye, formerly the trainee Healer who’d experimented with combining magical and Muggle healing methods.

“I don’t wish to alarm you, but I suppose it is best that you know. Any Minister for Magic is duty bound to execute anyone suspected of being in contact with Necromancy as a precaution. So, don’t you go leaving here with an Auror escort!”

“Oh.” Hermione had not been expecting that, as no book she’d ever read had documented Ministry regulations concerning Necromancy, beyond that it was strictly forbidden. She tried to sit up again, only to be stopped once more. “Healer Pye, could you release these cords? I’d like to sit up.”

“’Fraid not, lass. The crash resulted in that curse scar of yours reopening. I’ll let you loose tomorrow, if you behave. For now, sleep.”

“WHAT?” Hermione almost screamed, her head jerking up off the pillow. “How am I meant to sleep after everything that’s happened?”

“Er, yes. I’ll get some Dreamless Sleep Potion for you.” Healer Pye hurried off.

‘Fan-bloody-tastic. My parents are dead, along with Crookshanks. My wand’s broken. Apparently I’m a Necromancer. And to top it all, my Healer is an absent minded maniac. Perfect!’ Hermione dropped her head, groaning. ‘Whatever next?’

AN: Yes, Dumbledore is a little callous. Rest assured that he won't be in future.