A Dance Through Thyme [Harry Potter]

There are no strangers here; only friends you haven't met. An unknown man sends Hermione back to the Marauder's Era as revenge, however, the consequences are far more disastrous than what even he imagines when Hermione loses her memory of the past. Why did that man do this to her, and what secrets will be spilled? Who is the guilty party?

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59. Chapter 50: Vorbereitung auf die Schlacht

Assemble to fight

He could see the inkblots that had been spattered across the parchment as the words had been hastily scribbled. Dumbledore did not know what to make of it. Simultaneously a request and a demand; like a spoiled child who was threatening a tantrum if he or she did not end up getting their desired outcome.

 

An internal debate began to fester within Dumbledore, and he thought back to when this man was one of his pupils. The seeds of dark magic had already been sown from birth, but light could be seen within him as well. It was not clear which part of him was the instigator for the letter.

 

Perhaps it would be wise to meet with him; even if it was only once.

 

 

He stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone…

 

Then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.

 

‘Don’t kill me!’

 

‘That was not my intention.’

 

Any sound of Dumbledore apparating had been drowned out by the sound of the wind in the branches. He stood before Snape with his robes whipping around him, and his face was illuminated from below in the light cast by his wand.

 

‘Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?’

‘No- no message – I am here on my own account!’

 

Snape was wringing his hands; he looked a little mad, with his straggling black hair flying around him.

 

‘I come with a warning – no, a request – please – ‘

 

Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though leaves and branches still flew through the night air around them, silence fell on he spot where he and Snape faced each other.

 

‘What request could a Death Eater make of me?’

 

‘The prophecy…the prediction…Trelawney…’

 

‘Ah, yes,’ said Dumbledore. ‘How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?’

 

‘Everything – everything I heard!’ said Snape. ‘That is why – it is for that reason – he thinks it means Lily Evans!’

 

‘The prophecy did not refer to a woman,’ said Dumbledore. ‘It spoke of a boy born at the end of July – ‘

 

‘You know what I mean! He thinks it is her son, he is going to hunt her down – kill them all – ‘

 

‘If she means so much to you,’ said Dumbledore, ‘surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?’

 

“I have – I have asked him – ‘

 

‘You disgust me,’ said Dumbledore, contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to shrink a little.

 

‘You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die as long as you have what you want?’

 

Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore.

 

‘Hide them all, then’ he croaked. ‘Keep her – them – safe. Please.’

 

“And what will you give me in return, Severus?’

 

“In – in return?’ Snape gaped at Dumbledore, silent. After a long moment he said, ‘Anything.’

 

Slowly Snape regained control of himself, but his face was still anguished.

 

‘But never – never tell, Dumbeldore! Swear it! I want your word!’

 

‘My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?’ Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, tormented face. ‘If you insist…’

 

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

 

A furious tapping sounded at Hermione’s bedroom window. It was certainly loud enough to drag her from the depths of sleep.

 

Her body jolted as her brain attempted to simulate consciousness. She was beyond exhausted. It was that kind of exhaustion where you feel like breathing is a struggle.

 

The tapping continued, louder than ever, and Hermione could not get away with ignoring it any longer.

 

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she hauled her head off the pillow and waited for the giddiness to disappear before standing and making her way over the window.

 

Fortunately the moon was very bright and when she pulled back the curtains it was easy to see that she was faced with a tawny barn owl. It was the very species that was used by Hogwarts. Seeing Hermione behind the glass, it hooted three times in quick succession.

 

Hermione opened the window, allowing the warm summer breeze to enter the room. The owl lifted its leg, patiently waiting for Hermione to untie the message it had brought for her.

 

Recognising the emerald green ink and slanted handwriting, she did not hesitate in ripping open the envelope. Eyes darted about in circles across the page, not quite knowing where to start reading. Lighting her wand with a whisper of an incantation, she felt her heart begin working in overdrive.

 

No one was safe.

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