In Perpetuum [Harry Potter]

COMPLETED: Harry Potter Fanfiction. Hermione is sent back in time to the Marauder's Era. What will happen when she does not have Harry around to provide information and clues about Voldemort? Some Lily/James, Remus/OC.

59Likes
45Comments
36738Views
AA

10. Retro iens ut vado antrorsum

GOING BACKWARDS IN ORDER TO GO FORWARDS

1ST YEAR

 

Most students were preparing excuses for late or incomplete homework. Hermione was preparing for her first meeting with Dumbledore. A thin card of parchment with green slanted writing had arrived for her shortly after the New Year, telling her that 'Pepper Imps' were the order of the day.

It was just after dinner on the first day back after the Christmas/New Year holidays, and instead of walking back up to her dormitory, she waved goodbye to Lily and Heloise, and climbed the marble stairs to Dumbledore's office.

Approaching the stone gargoyle and gave the password before ascending the stone stairs to the circular Headmaster's office above.

Reaching the top of the stairs she pulled herself to the tips of her toes to grab onto the brass griffin knocker. She knocked three times.

The door swung open of its own accord to reveal an office not unlike the one Hermione had always known. This time, there were less silver instruments on the spindly tables, and the silver beard adorning Dumbledore's face was yet to reach its full potential.

"Miss Potter, do make yourself at home, I daresay you know this room almost as well as I do."

Even though Hermione had known Dumbledore much of her life, she was still slightly intimidated by the man with the half-moon spectacles, as she perched herself on the edge of the blue Chintz chair.

"I presume you know why I have asked you here this evening?" enquired Dumbledore, looking down his nose at her. His piercing blue eyes felt as though they were slicing right through her and the mere thought of it made Hermione squirm.

"Yes," she whispered. "You want to talk about how I am here, or more precisely why I am here."

"Correct. However, before we begin, I wonder, have you told any of your classmates about our meeting tonight?"

"No," said Hermione, her perplexed voice a fraction stronger than it had been before, "I thought it best not to let anyone know. After all, what would I tell them?"

"A wise assumption Miss Potter, but for the present we must work our way through fact only."

Dumbledore asked Hermione a myriad of questions. He begun with the most basic, for example, asking for the incantation of the spell she had used.

It was on this question that Hermione perked up, looking for any hint that he may have some extra information for her. Anything at all that might give her some desperately needed answers.

Was she able to get back home? Was she ever going to see her loved ones again? What happened to Ron and Harry? Were they killed? What kind of trouble did they get into? Was it her fault?

Her mind was frantic as the questions that had been lying dormant for months, resurfaced.

Dumbledore's lined face remained as impassive as ever while he continued to query Hermione on every minute detail of her story.

With every question that passed, Hermione became more agitated and fraught. Hot, angry tears began to flow unchecked as the gravity of the situation began to pull Hermione in.

Dumbledore merely paused his questions at this and watched her until the tears had abated.

"I think," he spoke in an understanding tone, "that we have covered enough for this evening."

He stood and crossed the room over to the door, holding it open for Hermione. As she passed, her blotchy and swollen face looked up at him one last time, however, it was Dumbledore that spoke.

"You did a very brave and very noble thing Miss Potter. Never forget that."

The heavy oak door closed behind her as she descended the stairs. Their faces kept appearing before her, almost like apparitions they felt so real.

Harry.

Ron.

Fred.

Remus.

Tonks.

She was forced to see them in her nightmares and now it seemed even in daylight she could rid herself of their seemingly omniscient presence.

Her weary feet subconsciously guided her to Gryffindor Tower. When she arrived, she was glad to see that there were not very many people left in the common room, being a Monday night. The clock chiming on the wall signalled that it was 10 o'clock. A quick glance around the room told her that the people that remained at this hour were those finishing the last of their homework before turning in. It would be very unlikely that she would be disturbed.

Hermione's brain was yet to want to switch off and she decided that. Perhaps, entreating into a fantasy world was in order. Quietly running up the small flight of stairs to her dormitory, she pulled one of her favourite muggle novels from her wardrobe, and settled herself into one of the armchairs by the fire in the common room below.

Completely absorbed in the world of the book, she did not hear anyone approaching and in fact, jumped about a foot in the air when she felt a hand touch her arm.

"Relax Mione, it's only me."

She turned to see the familiar, pale grey eyes of Sirius Black peering down anxiously at her. She felt her taut muscles unclench at the recognition.

Sirius flashed a smile in her direction.

"You are always so jumpy and nervous."

"Sorry," apologised Hermione, "I do try and relax."

She gestured towards the book she had been reading up until that point.

"Sense and Sensibility," read Sirius from the cover before adding in a slightly mocking tone, "of course you would be reading something with a title like that."

"Hey!" said Hermione is a faux chastised voice.

"What's it about?" questioned Sirius, his head leaning to one side in curiosity.

Hermione was momentarily taken aback.

"You really want to know what it's about?" she said in a slightly shocked tone.

"Yup, that's why I asked."

"Oh, well in that case, it's about a family who was kicked out of their home by some other members of their family. It is the prerogative of the two eldest daughters to get married and the title is referring to their marriage prospects."

"Eurgh!" said Sirius, turning his head as he mumbled something that sounded remarkable similar to "too female".

Turning back to Hermione he said, "They don't sound like a nice family to throw them out in that way."

There was a moment of silence before he added in a quiet voice, "Were your family nice? I mean the one you had before the Potters."

If he had been blushing before he posed the question, it was nothing compared to the violent shade of fuchsia he was sporting now.

Hermione paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer this seemingly abrupt query.

"Yes...they were nice. They loved me, I loved them and we were happy."

"Oh...ok."

Hermione was perplexed by Sirius' sudden curiosity in her.

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's just that – that day James and I found you. You are hurt pretty bad. I was frightened that you weren't going to make it back home in time. We were lucky that no muggles saw us."

Hermione had not spoken to anyone about what had happened the day she had first come to Potter Manor. She had no one to speak to. Not even Ma knew of the carnage that was left affecting those she loved.

Hermione often put silencing spells around her bed at Hogwarts as a precaution to block out any noise that she made from her nightmares.

Flashes of faces would assault her in her dreams. Harry. Ron. The adult Sirius, a brooding captive in the house he had once fled. Blood pouring from the side of George's head; Colin Creevey lying limp like a marionette puppet with no master to make it liven up; Percy throwing himself over his brother, Fred, in order to protect it from further harm.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at this Sirius. One who was yet to be burdened by the death of those he loved.

"We were very lucky that no one saw us, "conceded Hermione, "And also lucky that the Ministry did not get involved."

Sirius merely nodded. He could sense that Hermione was not yet ready to talk about what happened and he could not blame her.

He still carried around the image of her broken body as he and James had found it. Blood stains covered her clothes so much so that they could not see where the blood was coming from so that they could staunch the flow.

They knew she was a witch from the wand lying on the grass beside her. Between them both, they carried the unknown girl's body back to the Manor. Luckily it had not been far and she had not been too heavy. Her emaciated arms hung limply from her sides, fingertips skimming the tops of the grass as they brought her skeletal body back to the Manor.

The girl had begun to mumble on the journey back. If she was in pain, Sirius reasoned that Ma P could fix it.

Despite his young age and relative innocence, he knew that wounds such as those could only be inflicted by Dark Magic. To this day, he wondered what Hermione had been doing, that she would allow herself to be cruelly broken in such a way.

He shook his head, as though he thought that alone would rid the image from his head. Glancing at Hermione, he mumbled a goodnight and headed to the dormitory he shared with James, Remus and Peter.

There used to be another boy with them: Kenneth. He requested to be moved to another dorm after James had put Bulbadox powder in his shorts one time too many.

Not even the image of Kenneth prancing around the dormitory in his prickly jocks showing off his bright red, pock-marked posterior could remove the cloud of dejection surrounding Sirius Black.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...