Back to Hogwarts

Chapter Two

Back to Hogwarts

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In a numb haze, she gave the cab driver the address to the Leaky Cauldron. How could this be? Hermione thought perhaps her parents had returned and brought with them their new child, who they had in Australia, but that was not possible. Their memories had been destroyed; they would never return home, and Hermione knew her mother had had her tubes tied when she was about eight years old. Her mind couldn't cope with what she had seen.

What have I done?!

It all fit together in a foggy sort of way: the box, the Healer, the Aurors, and her parents with that little girl. Hermione knew who that little girl was; her mind was just too mixed up to admit it.

What have I done?!

She was lost. Everything was all wrong. The world was broken. She needed a wand and she needed Harry, if there even was a Harry.

A wand first... if I have a wand, at least I can defend myself. It was that logic that lead her to Ollivander's. The bell rang from somewhere deep within the shop as the light door shut behind her. Ollivander came out from the back, beaming. He looked a lot healthier than she remembered, and of course, he had no idea who she was.

"Why hello, ma'am. What can I do you for?" he asked, sizing her up with his gaze. Ollivander never forgot anyone or his or her wand. "You must be new around here."

"Yes, very new. I need a wand," she informed him sharply.

"Did something happen to your old one?" he asked, no longer smiling. Mr. Ollivander took wands very seriously and did not look favorably on those who allowed something to happen to theirs.

"I just need another one," Hermione said, cutting off any further inquiry into her missing wand. He sized her up again; wand matching was an art form. He turned and signaled for her to follow, pulling several long white boxes off the shelves as he went by.

She had to try five wands before they found the right one. Her breath hitched as she held the wand up to the light. It was identical to her former wand, the exact same shape and wood marking. Even the dragon heartstring inside was from the same species. It was all so clear.

Hermione was familiar with time travel; but this, this was beyond disastrous. It was too much for her to handle. She wanted to cry, scream, and yell, maybe even smash something.

How did I do this? How can I fix this? What can I do?

Hindsight is always 20-20, and on looking back, she knew Apparating wasn't the smartest decision. She had never splinched herself before. It burned. The moment she popped into the middle of Hogsmeade, she felt the searing pain light up her left arm. The last thing she saw was whiteness as she lost consciousness again. In her mind, it felt like the second time that day, but in reality it was 16 years in the past.

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Hermione awoke in a hospital, but it was not St. Mungo's. For that, she thanked every deity she could name but quickly cursed them all as she realized she was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. She had a sinking feeling that being here was just going to confirm her fears about what had happened to her in the Department of Mysteries.

With her eyes held tightly shut, she clung to the hope that the jewelry box had simply made her lose her mind. Being insane would be much easier to deal with than this. Tear drops began to trace their way down the slopes of her cheeks. She wished harder than ever that she still had her mother. She wasn't ready to face the magical world alone. She wasn't ready to be an adult. The loneliness in her heart was stronger than it had been her first year at Hogwarts. She wished with everything she had that she weren't so alone, but not even magic can make wishes come true.

The tapping sound of footsteps approaching reminded Hermione that she didn't have time to break down, not when she needed to be on her guard. She willed herself to stop her silent crying and opened her eyes to see the familiar face of Madam Pomfrey. Her face was familiar, but different, younger; Hermione preferred to ignore this.

"You did a nice job splinching yourself, young lady," she scolded. "Luckily, your arm made most of the journey with you; in fact, it was only a few yards away from your body, according to the professor. He saw you arrive in the street from the Hog's Head," she nattered on, pulling out some glass vials from her white Healer's robe. "Cheers, deary."

The potion burned her throat and tasted like copper. Blood replenishing potion. Hermione wondered how much blood she had lost. She did feel slightly lightheaded, and on examining her left arm, she noted her skin was paler than normal. At least I still have my left arm.

"Thank you," she told Madam Pomfrey. Her voice was hoarse from the potion.

"Yes, well it's a bit slow around here anyway. Now get some rest. The Headmaster should be along shortly." She turned away, walking past the rows of empty beds.

Oh god, no. She considered running again, but in her condition, jumping out of windows was not an option. Even if Hermione did make it out of the school without detection, where could she go to from there? The forbidden forest? No, she would have to face him. Maybe he'll help me?

There was once a time when she thought him the savior of all, a beacon of light in dark times, but she had learned that he had his priorities. She doubted helping her would coincide with what must be done for the greater good.

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Hermione knew he was there, but she kept her eyes closed, not wanting to face him. If it were really him, there would be no more denial.

"I see Madam Pomfrey set your arm back in order. It was very fortunate that you were brought here so quickly. Are you feeling better?" the old man asked, seating himself in the chair beside her bed. Dumbledore. His beard was just as long and white. His nose was still crooked, and his blue eyes with the half moon glasses still twinkled.

Damn him! she thought.

"Yes," she replied tightly.

"Curious... very curious. It seems there was an incident at the Ministry of Magic today. In the Department of Mysteries, a girl just appeared out of thin air." He gestured to the air around them.

"She was unconscious, so they took her to St. Mungo's, where, upon waking, she disappeared."

He gave her a hard look, a very un-Dumbledore look. "The Ministry decided that the incident dealt with itself and is, therefore, no longer a matter of importance. But, then again, it's very unusual for someone to jump out of a window at St. Mungo's."

Hermione paled. Damn him!

"Telling me your name would not be amiss. I myself am Albus Dumb--"

"I know who you are," she cut him off.

"How curious. I, however, do not know who you are."

Her eyes narrowed. "I feel for the sake of the greater good, it would be best that you didn't."

Dumbledore held her eyes for a minute before sighing. "Perhaps you should come up with something for me to call you then, my dear." Hermione just continued to glare. "Do you have anywhere to go?" he asked, his eyes taking on that charming twinkle.

Thrice damn him! She shook her head, not wanting to hear the truth out loud.

"It seems we are both in a bit of a situation, but perhaps we can help each other." That got her attention.

"How so?" she inquired

"Well, you see, I'm afraid I am short a staff member, and I'm running out of time to fill the position. You did graduate, didn't you?"

"A record setting number of NEWT's." Not that it matters now, she thought darkly.

"Astounding! Would you consider lending the school your talents until your situation straightens itself out?" How could anyone say no to those twinkling blue eyes?

"I think that may work," she concluded. " But I have no intention of finishing out the year."

"I'd be thankful for any time you have to spare." Dumbledore stood to leave.

"I have a few major time issues at the moment," she sighed, exasperated.

"I can imagine. Be sure to get some more rest; I'll have a house-elf take you to your chambers later. I'm afraid the school is rather empty this time of year. It's just Poppy and me for the most part. I think she worries about my health." He gave her a look and she rolled her eyes.

I'm not telling you anything, you old coot. But she was tempted.

"Oh, and the school's Potions Master uses the lab to brew potions for St. Mungo's. I assume you know your way around the school. Meals will be at the normal time."

She rolled over and bit her fist to keep from screaming in frustration. Dumbledore was bad enough, she couldn't handle seeing him.

What am I going to do...?

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The moment Dumbledore left the hospital wing, Severus Snape was at his side.

"Well?" he demanded, impatient from waiting on, first the girl to wake up, and then Dumbledore to talk to her. He had wasted too much time already and was going to be behind on his brewing.

"I think I've found someone to be our new DADA professor."

Severus stopped. He was still naïve enough to be hopeful, and Dumbledore was wary about crushing him again. Severus Snape did not have much to hope for, and Dumbledore worried that the proud man behind him might break. He turned to face him. Severus's face was an expressionless mask, but the fact that he wasn't glaring or scowling spoke volumes.

"Severus..." Dumbledore warned. The dark man glared at his boots, silently berating himself for being so foolish. Of course he doesn't mean me. "We've been over this..."

"One would think that someone who leaves hospitals by jumping out of windows would be a flight risk," Severus growled, still staring a hole into his boots.

"Look at me, Severus," Dumbledore commanded. There was no twinkle in his eyes. Severus glared harder. "We will not speak about this again; you will remove this matter from your thoughts. No good will come from you investigating what you saw. Do you hear me?" His tone left no room for negotiation.

"Yes, Albus." His outrage deflated, he retreated into himself, something he had learned to do at a young age. Dumbledore continued walking, leaving Severus standing in front of the hospital wing.

Despite what Dumbledore had told him, he was not going to let it go. He headed back to his dungeons, his thoughts with the strange girl in the hospital wing. She was too young to be a professor, as was he, but Severus wasn't about to admit that. No, he didn't care what Dumbledore said. He would investigate. For the first of many times to come, Severus wished he had just let the silly chit bleed out in Hogsmeade.

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Author's notes: thank you for the reviews, everyone! And again thank you to my wonderful beta bookofsecrets.