She comes back to her senses slowly, like waking up from a pleasing dream a Sunday morning. The first thing she notices is the numbness of her body; nothing new after reading all night in the uncomfortable chairs from the common room. Even if the twins designed a special sofa for her as a birthday present, she tends to get so engrossed in a book that none of her muscle move in hours, and that costs her greatly the next morning.
Using the time-turner almost four times a day doesn’t help too much either to the soreness of her body. She started this year with 13 years old, and now she is finishing it with almost 16. She was warned about the repercussions of using the time-turner that much; but with all the classes, and so little time to attend and study and eat and sleep and cry; it was necessary.
She doesn’t remember too much about last night, probably passed out in an abandon classroom near the dungeons by the smell of it. Opening her eyes is a difficult task, and a burning pain is stabbing her in the stomach. When was the last time she ate something? When was the last time she slept at all? When was the last time she showered? Merlin, she really hopes the smell isn’t coming from her.
Branches with bushy leaves welcome her to the real world. Wait. The Forbidden Forest?
And like a whiplash all the memories of the night before come crashing back to her already growing headache. Sirius Black, Buckbeak the hippogriff, the Shrieking Shack, Ron being bitten by the Grimm who turned out to be Sirius Black, Professor Lupin, Peter Pettigrew being Scrabbers, James and Lily Potter’s true traitor, Professor Snape, spells, curses and jinxes being thrown right and left, the full moon, Professor Lupin turning into a werewolf, Dumbledore hinting them to use the time-turner, Harry and herself traveling a few hours back, being chased by a werewolf, being separated from Harry so he could save Sirius, and finally that monster chasing her. The last thing she remembers is the grey fur in the back of the monster that just bit her.
Okay, so the pain in her stomach is the bite from a Werewolf. She is a hundred percent certain it wasn’t Professor Lupin; she saw perfectly clear his form when he turned in front of her eyes last night. The sun is just rising; she hopes Harry was able to free Sirius and go back to the infirmary. She will probably stay right here until someone finds her; she can barely move a muscle from her body. If she doesn’t die from blood lost first. She is so stupid, believing she could outrun a bloody Werewolf in the unknown woods at night; although, if that helped Harry to accomplish his goal and save his godfather, then she is happy. Even if that means she will be a werewolf for the rest of her life.
“Fuck...” her parents would not believe her; they barely believe she is a freaking witch. They don’t even know she was petrified last year; now she will turn into a monster every full moon. No, wait, no. She is not a monster, just like she believes Professor Lupin is not a monster either. The one with the grey furry back; however, she isn’t so sure.
Seeing the sun is in its full force now, it is obvious no one is looking for her. Just great, what a pair of best friends she has. Her hand softly touches her wound at the left side of her abdomen; she can’t help but cringe at the wet feeling in her fingertips of her own blood. Disgusting. Prodding a little more, she feels exactly where the fangs of the werewolf sank. More disgusting. With all the power left on her body, she slowly and painfully sits on the wet ground. Her pink hoodie is torn apart, her jeans are half dirt half blood, and she lost both shoes in the persecution last night. Bloody fucking hell. This is going to be a painful walk back to the castle.
Removing the hoodie is a pain on its own, tying it up around her abdomen is another. She is not sure how hasn’t pass out yet. A cold feeling in the middle of her chest distracts her from the pain to see her time-turner. Her broken time-turner. For fuck’s sake. Professor McGonagall is going to be mad, maybe her recent attack would free her form punishment; she is not sure the Ministry will be so forgiving, though.
The walk back to the castle is like torture to her body; limping while her arm clutches her middle trying to keep her organs at bay. How is it possible that no one is looking out for her? What are Harry and Ron doing? They really think she is sleeping peacefully in her bedroom? Those two morons will see when she reaches the infirmary. Damn it.
“My dear, what happened to you?” Professor Dumbledore’s voice startles her so much that she falls to the dirty ground roughly.
“P-professor-shit. Sorry. Ouch.” When she is unable to stand again, she just rolls to her back to see the old man with bright robes standing next to her with a curious look in his blue eyes. “I was bitten last night.” She tries to explain almost wheezing with cold sweat accumulating in her forehead.
“By a werewolf” he stats cautiously kneeling next to her. He waves his wand with a diagnosis spell. A peculiar look in the headmaster’s eyes alarms her immediately.
“Sir, it wasn’t Remus Lupin. I swear.” She whispers with all the strength she has left. “The werewolf that attacked me had a grey fur in his back and shining red eyes. Much bigger than him; so, you can’t blame him for this. It wasn’t his fault.” She is mumbling inconsistences by now; her only purpose is to make perfectly clear that Professor Remus Lupin was not the one that bit her.
“Well, my dear. First of all, can you tell me your name, and how do you know young Remus Lupin?” that brings a little more of consciousness back to the brunette.
“What? It’s me, Professor Dumbledore, Hermione Granger. We spoke yesterday night. And for ‘young’ Remus Lupin, maybe for you is young, for me is our DADA professor, is he not?” Odd, but maybe Professor Dumbledore is losing his marbles already for his old age.
“Miss Granger, what year do you thing it is?” Okay, maybe he is worst than she thought. Should she call for help? Maybe Professor McGonagall would know what to do. “Indulge me, please.” He says with twinkling eyes, like he just heard what she was thinking.
“1994, of course, professor.” Without looking at the blue eyes of the headmaster she can tell something is definitely wrong. An awful feeling sinks in the mouth of her stomach, and the image of her broken time-turner flashes in her mind. “Right? Professor?”
“Oh, my dear. I'm afraid you hit your head in the attack. It's 1974.” And just like that, darkness takes her senses.
Albus Dumbledore started his day as always, with a little walk to Hagrid's cabin for a cup of tea and a little gossip; what he didn't expected was to find a young girl bloodied and hurt walking out of the Forbidden Forest almost unconscious. What she was mumbling, though, was much more unbelievable. That is until he saw the broken time-turner hanging from the bloodied chest of the girl at the infirmary.
As usual, Madam Pomfrey doesn't ask many questions while helping the girl; but he can't help to clarify the author of Miss Granger's wound. Fenrir Greyback is a worldwide known Werewolf, and he is known by turning helpless children in the middle of a full moon. It wouldn’t do any good if a rumour spreads about the only known werewolf in Hogwarts by the personal.
“Albus?” Poppy Pomfrey stops all movement when the broken time-turner rolls out of the girl's shirt.
“It seems Miss Granger was telling the truth, Poppy dear.” Time travel, and by the looks of it, an accidental time travel of an underage girl just bitten by the terror of Britain. 20 years into the past, no less. Who in their right mind would grant such a delicate instrument to the hands of a little girl? Although, she did say he spoke with her the day before, and he surely would notice if one of his students is traveling back in time. “Do you think you can wake her up?” the disapproving look of the young matron should make him feel bad, the little girl is in no condition to wake up, even less to explain the circumstances that brought her to this time. She obviously thought she was still in 1994.
“It doesn’t matter when she comes from, Albus. I’ll let you know the moment she wakes up by her own means.” Everyone respects Albus Dumbledore a great deal, he is the most powerful wizard in all Britain; however, the only place he has no say whatsoever is the infirmary of Hogwarts. Poppy Pomfrey is a 26-year-old Hufflepuff. She is a kind soul that treats every student with care and love, even the rebel ones; and no matter how they got hurt, Poppy will treat them without prejudice. She takes care of her charges with teeth and claws, even if it’s against the Headmaster.
“That’s alright, Poppy dear. Just don’t let any student see her until I’ve spoken to her.” And with a swirl in his colourful robes, Albus leaves the infirmary to check on something quite important.
Toffee eyes flutter open, an annoying light hits them directly making her wince. At least she isn’t in pain anymore, that’s good. Now, the white curtain surrounding her must be the ones from the infirmary; and the absence of pain must be thanks to the magical hands of Madame Pomfrey. Harry has been plenty of times lying in the same spot she is right now; there is no one else she would trust more with her health than Madame Pomfrey.
Her hand goes automatically to the only wound still in her body, remembering why exactly she is in this spot. Fenrir Greyback has bit her. The next full moon she is going to turn into a wolf, and she is completely alone.
“My dear, you’re finally awake.” The warm voice of a more younger version of Poppy Pomfrey appears in her range of vision. Her blonde hair shinning with the light from outside, making her look almost angelical surrounded by white. Her face free from the expression wrinkles are a red flag to her mind, but she can’t help the feeling of ease in the presence of the matron. “You must be feeling a little lightheaded, I gave you a painless potion meanwhile the wound heals on its own. Sadly, with an injury like that, there is no potion nor charm to fix it immediately.” Madame Pomfrey has always like to explain her methods to her patients, it creates an easy environment and her charges don’t feel so scare of the unknown. If the girl is in fact a time-traveller, she must be terrified; her duty is to sooth that mind.
“M-madam Pom-frey.” Her cracked voice makes her cringe; that only means she’s been unconscious longer than she expected. When she woke up from the petrification in second year, she sounded like an 80-year-old smoker.
“Don’t try to speak, or think too hard. You’re safe in here, nobody is going to bother you for now. I need you to rest your body and mind; at this moment they are going through changes that will take all your energy. You need to get use to your new senses, and it’s going to take some time for you to feel comfortable enough with your own body again.” Clinical and direct to the point; Hermione has always enjoy talking to the matron with her no-nonsense attitude. It puts her mind at ease to be in such capable hands. So, her toffee eyes succumb to darkness one more time.
‘This is bad’ is the only thought running in the white head of Albus Dumbledore. It’s been 2 weeks since the arrival of the young time-traveller and the repercussions are glaring at him loud and clear in the office of Unspeakable Veronica Hughes, Head of the Time Department.
“Two weeks, Dumbledore. Two weeks this anomaly has been existing in this plane, in your plane, and you didn’t have the brain cells to report it to this department.” He might be the most powerful wizard of all times; however, that means literally nothing to someone like Veronica.
“My dear Veronica, she is a person, not an anomaly as you say. An underage girl lost in the past.” He tries to explain, but the burning rage in the turquoise eyes of the woman in front of him just sends a shiver down his spine.
“Don’t patronise me, Dumbledore. You might be the Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot; however, that doesn’t give you any power to go above the law. Any disturbance in the current timeline or misuse of a time-turner it has to be notify to my department immediately.” Before Albus could even think in opening his mouth, Veronica continues talking. “You have no idea the chaos that has been happening in my department these last two weeks, and just because you decided it was more important for you to learn the facts first. The anomaly, because that’s what it is, has destroyed the Linear Room the exact moment it appeared in our world.”
“The Linear Room has been destroyed? That’s impossible, the Linen of Time is in there!” the dark woman gives him a look almost saying ‘you don’t think I know that already, you buffoon’.
“Burned to ashes in the explosion. We’re still trying to access the room from outside. Thanks Merlin and Circe there was no one inside, they would have burned with the Linen too.” She stands from the leather chair and guide the Professor down the hall. The Time Department is unknown to most of the wizards and witches working in the Ministry. Only the most proficient Unspeakable work under Veronica Hughes, the Head for the last 80 years. “Tell me everything about the anomaly; even though I’ll go myself the moment we access the room to see if it’s necessary to erased it or not.”
“Veronica, she is a 14-year-old girl at most. The girl suffered a traumatic experience, and been sleeping since she arrived. It’s almost impossible for her to create such a disturbance in the Linear Room just from appearing here.” He is an intelligent man, and he is proud of that. The Linear Room and the Linen of Time has always interested him a little too much; that’s why he is acquaintance with Veronica. If he weren’t the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus would have definitely be an Unspeakable working there.
“I don’t care if its a bloody baby. This anomaly must be fix before it destroys much more than the Linen.” She has seen plenty of anomalies during her time as Head of Department, but nothing as disastrous as this one. The Linen has never been destroyed this catastrophically before. Cut, yes, wrinkled in some corners, of course, but never burned down to ashes. “What do you mean the anomaly suffered a traumatic experience?” Every detail is important.
“She was bitten by Fenrir Greyback in her time. The girl was wearing a time-turner the same time; maybe a spell went awry, or Greyback broke it in the attack. It’s not clear how it happened. As I told you, she’s been sleeping since she arrived.”
“A bloody time-traveller werewolf. What kind of sick joke is this.” Veronica mumbles, finally arriving to the Linear Room where 8 of her bests have been working almost every hour for the last 2 weeks trying to enter. “Talk to me, Unspeakable Lewis.”
“We could finally break the third layer of magical cord surrounding the room; although, there’s still a signature modifying the last one. This is beyond our knowledge, Boss.” To admit there is nothing else for them to do it’s a hit to their pride. They’re suppose to be the best of the best, yet this anomaly had turn their lives into a true mess.
“You’ve done it splendidly, all of you. I can continue from here. Thank you all for your great work, go to rest and we’ll see each other in three days.” She can feel it, and she is sure Dumbledore can feel it too. They’ve spent plenty of time in the past inside that room with the Linen of Time, they know exactly what is going on right now.
“How is this possible, Veronica?” Dumbledore whispers next to her while the others vacant the hall exhausted.
“I have no clue. I’ve never read something like this happening in the past. There is no record in history referring to this in any book or archive; it has never occurred before.” Slowly, and almost too carefully, Hughes starts moving her wand and free hand in front of the burned door while mumbling to herself some kind of spell Dumbledore can’t decipher. Like a braid being undone, cords of magic start unravelling in front of their eyes in slow-motion. If they pay enough attention, it was possible to see snaps of images flashing almost too quickly for the untrained eye. Not theirs, of course. Although non of those images make any sense for now. The professor waits patiently a few steps back, his wand ready in case Veronica needs any help. He can feel the raw power of Time being turn from inside of the room; while most of the time they’ve been inside, the magic felt calm and soothing, right now it’s like a chaotic tornado.
With her dark face shinning with sweat, Veronica ends every charm forcefully snapping her fingers. Every noise and light of magic disappear abruptly as if never had happened in the first place; even the door turned back how it was before, without burned corners and broken splinters. Dumbledore supports Hughes weight when she starts swaying; she is a powerful witch, but this ordeal took more magic from her than she expected.
“Do you need to rest before going in?” he asks kindly, it wouldn’t do any good if she passes out from exhaustion.
“No, thank you. Let’s get this over with.” Another swing of her wand and the door opens slowly, almost daunting with a squeaking sound; a faint light glows among the darkness of the room. “Because this isn’t shady enough.” Veronica musters letting Dumbledore go. She approaches the room with her wand ready, just in case something happens again. A quiet ‘lumos’ illuminates the room and they can finally see what they already suspected. “For the mercy of all Gods above.”
A new and silver Linen of Time is knitting itself before their eyes. Slow movements of blindly white cords dancing around the floating object, merging each other in careful patterns creating a quite long cloth that was accumulating in the floor with each passed second. Warily eyeing the blanket, Veronica swishes her wand to accommodate such mess. The Linen of Time floats around, turning and folding itself to be put in an intricate hanger where it is possible to see the full extend of the magical object. Both adults can see exactly where the old Linen and the new one merged.
“It’s...this is impossible.” Dumbledore whispers almost too quietly. In front of their eyes, a golden Linen knot itself with the new silver one, making it look like a blurring mix of both colours.
“The anomaly,” mumbles Hughes, “it changed the timeline.”
