Primrose Paradigms

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The first thought that ran through Hermione's head was that she was going to kill whoever it was that was making all that damn noise.

Well, actually, that was more like the fourth thought. The first three were about her aching head.

A habit picked up from traveling around the world with Harry, Hermione kept her eyes closed as she woke up, giving herself a chance to listen to her surroundings and try and figure out what was going on. Drowsily, she remembered the ritual, and that bastard Kane, and with a nasty jolt, the memory of Harry collapsing before her eyes.

So what had happened? She was laying in a bed, judging by the smell, one of the beds in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. She'd been in here often enough that she recognized the feel of the bed. Were that pressure and the collapse all that the ritual was for? Or had backup finally arrived and stopped the ritual before it could be completed?

Slowly realizing that the noise she was hearing was actually a voice. Waking up fully now, Hermione kept her eyes closed and her breathing even. If they had been rescued, then it'd be fine. If this was a trick...well.

"...so when I finally guessed the stupid password and got up to his office, he was in the middle of a meeting with Professor McGonagall," one voice said. The young girl's voice was high and soft.

"Did you tell him what had happened?" a second voice asked. This voice was deeper, older, the melodic voice of a woman.

"Yeah," the first voice again. "He said that he'd finish up and be down as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Anna," the second voice. Anna...that was the girl's name. Anna who? "I'll be sure to keep you posted. You'd better get off to class." Class, then she was at a school of some kind. If not Hogwarts, then Beauxbatons, maybe? She heard footsteps, and a door opening and closing. Obviously the girl, Anna, had left.

Hermione didn't recognize the other voice. If she was at Hogwarts, than shouldn't it be Poppy Pomfrey's voice that she was hearing? But this voice was definitely not the voice of the strict matron.

"Oh, you're awake," the second voice said, tinged with surprise and was that...was the person nervous?

Hermione opened her eyes, caught, and was greeted with the sight of a pretty woman in nurse robes, frowning. She had blonde hair tied back in a messy bun, long tendrils escaping and framing her face, glowing with exertion. The woman was frowning as she waved her wand over Hermione, muttering a spell. Hermione's vision was suddenly clouded with bright, sky blue mist. It dissipated as soon as it came, and Hermione blinked. What did she need to check her magical supply for? It was bright blue, which means that it's fine.

"How can that be?" the woman asked. "It was severely low just a few minutes ago..." Hermione shook her head. Oh yeah. She had studied intensely with Tonks how to draw power from the elements around her so that she could build up her magical energy faster. It'd gotten to the point where it was subconscious. She'd always bugged Harry to work on it, but he'd never been as dedicated as she was, so if he was here, he was probably still unconscious.

Hermione struggled to sit up, and the woman hurried to help her. Grabbing a goblet from the bedside table, the woman gave it to Hermione. "Here, drink this. It's just water," she said off of Hermione's suspicious look.

She drank the water slowly, easing her headache a bit and soothing her dry, cracked throat. Setting the goblet down, she cast a wary look at the woman, who looked at a loss as to what to do. "Where's Harry?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

The woman started slightly and looked at her with apprehension. "Harry? You mean the...your companion?" Hermione nodded. "He's asleep, over there," the woman moved so that Hermione could see. Sure enough, Harry was in the bed across from her, his chest moving up and down slowly. Hermione started to get up to get see if he was all right, but the woman pushed her back down gently. "No, no, dear, you need rest. Stay in bed," she said. Hermione was so startled by the woman's gentle tone, such a change from the anxious tone from before, that she did as she said and laid back.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked, her voice stronger than before. "Where am I?"

The woman looked slightly relieved at the simple questions. "You are in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she said, with a touch of pride. Hermione sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "My name is Melody," she said, smiling slightly.

Hermione didn't smile back, there were still too many questions running through her head. "Is Harry all right?"

Melody nodded. "His magical reserves have been depleted..." she trailed off, lost in thought. She started when Hermione cleared her throat. "There was a bit of a nasty gash on his calf, but I fixed that right up. May I ask, do you have any idea how your reserves were healed so quickly? From what I can deduce, you were only unconscious for about an hour, when I first checked, they were so low that you would've needed days to recover."

Hermione shook her head, her head still pounding. "I...studied...there's a way I have that helps me," she said, not wanting to explain it all. "I want to talk to McGonagall."

Melody looked confused. "Professor McGonagall? Uh..."

Hermione did roll her eyes this time. "Minerva McGonagall? I heard that girl, Anna, mention her, I know she's here." Melody stayed silent, looking nervous, and Hermione sighed. "Look, I don't know who you are, or why you're apparently filling in for Madame Pomfrey, but any Order member will do."

Melody looked startled. "How do you know about the Order?"

Hermione sighed. Just her luck, she gets a newbie. "I'm in it," she said tiredly, laying a hand on her temple and rubbing it tiredly.

Melody looked distinctly suspicious, now. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione replied. "Look, if you're not going to help me, then just leave me alone," she said irritably.

Melody opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the doors to the Wing opening and Professor Albus Dumbledore strolling through them.

"Forgive me, Melody, but I was in an engagement I could not escape from," he said mildly.

"Forgiven, Professor," Melody said pleasantly. Hearing a noise from Hermione's bed, she looked over and was startled to see Hermione standing now, her eyes fierce. Her arm was outstretched, and her hand was gripping a wand tightly, which was pointed directly at Dumbledore, who looked back at the girl calmly.

"Okay, I don't know what kind of sick game you people are playing, but whatever it is, it won't work," she said, her voice tight. She sounded funny, almost like she was holding back tears. "Your master," she spit the words out like they were venomous, "is dead, why don't you people just give up?" Her wand never wavered.

Melody got over her shock and reached for her own wand, but Dumbledore held up a hand to stop her. She stilled and watched the scene uneasily.

"I have no master, at least not any that I'm aware of," Dumbledore said, his voice calm. "I'm afraid that I am as confused as you must be, child."

"Rubbish," the girl said sharply. "You know exactly what you're doing, you're deliberately trying to--what?" she questioned wildly. "Unnerve us? Break us? Stab us where it hurts the most? What the hell do you want from us?" Melody distinctly heard crying in her voice now, and saw that her eyes were tearing up.

Dumbledore looked concerned now; there was no heat or anger in his gaze. His voice was gentle when he questioned, "us?"

Melody spoke up then, "yes, her and her companion," she indicated the Harry look-a-like on the bed, oblivious to all that was going on.

Dumbledore glanced over at the bed, and then turned back to look at the girl. "What is your name?" he asked.

Hermione ignored the question and backed up slowly, keeping her eyes on both people. She couldn't believe this was happening. Dumbledore was dead, yet he's standing right here in front of me, she thought. It's him--no, it's not him! It's a trick, no, I'm going mad...her thoughts ran wild. "What's yours?" she shot back, half expecting him to morph into Midas Kane and laugh at her coldly.

"My name is rather long, but most people here call me by Albus or Professor Dumbledore," the old man said lightly, keeping his gaze on her face, not her wand.

Hermione had raised her Occlumency shields the moment he'd entered the room, and she strengthened them now as she felt Legilimency waves press on her mind. Hermione stilled. Those waves...they felt like...impossible. Still...Hermione searched the old man's face, looking for any hint of malice or deceit. Finding none, she went through all the possibilities in her head. Maybe this really was Dumbledore? Have they traveled through time? That'd explain why it was this Melody person instead of Pomfrey, and why she didn't know her... "What do you see when you look into the Mirror of Erised?" she asked, knowing that only probably only she and Harry knew that.

Surprise flickered in the old man's eyes, and he smiled. "A pair of warm, good socks, I'd imagine. Though it may have changed, I haven't gazed into the good Mirror for many years."

Hermione's grip on her wand slackened, and she lowered her arm. She hadn't been expecting him to answer at all, let alone answer correctly. "What year is it?" she asked, sitting down hard on the edge of the bed.

Dumbledore, as Hermione grudgingly referred to him as in her mind, walked over and sat down on the bed across from her, tucking his hands into his large sleeves. Good Lord, Hermione even remembered those particular robes. "1997," he said mildly. "Now that your suspicions are mollified, might you consider answering my original question?" he asked.

"Hermione Granger," she said distractedly, the cogs of her mind working fast. So not time travel, Dumbledore had been murdered in 1996. "I don't...belong here," she said slowly, coming to a semi-solid conclusion in her mind, remembering old, ancient texts she had poured over during long summers in Grimmauld Place. Old, dark books that she'd read to pass the time. She supposed she hadn't recognized the ritual before because she was so terrified...

"I suppose you don't," Dumbledore commented. "The only Hermione Granger I know is my Head Girl, and is probably in her quarters at the moment, if I know her well enough," he said. "I assume that you have some idea of this mess we find ourselves in, judging by your expression?"

Hermione nodded, her brow furrowing. "It's...kind of complicated..." she trailed off.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. Looking over at Melody, who looked thoroughly lost, he smiled kindly. "Melody, dear, will your other patient be able to survive on his own for a while? I think it'd be best if we retire to my office for a bit for this conversation. Walls have ears, and all that."

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Jackie Potter had no idea what was going on. She felt ignorant, and she hated feeling ignorant. Huffing and hoisting her bag higher on her shoulder, she climbed the staircase, praying that it wouldn't switch. She really wasn't in the mood to argue with Sir Cadogan, today. Flipping her luxurious red hair over her shoulder, she finally got to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Mumbling Mimbletonia," she said, and the portrait swung open. Walking through, she was greeted with the familiar sounds and smells of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Oi! Jacks!" Cameron Black, a lanky, tall boy of seventeen with raven black hair and dark brown eyes waved at her from his spot in a comfy armchair in front of the fireplace. "Saved you your favorite chair," he said when she walked over to him, and he took his pile of books off of the chair next to him.

"Thank you," she said and flung herself into the chair dramatically. "Oh, I've had the most horrid morning."

"What's wrong, your mascara smudge?" The sarcastic voice of her older brother sounded from the couch across from her and Cam. Harry Potter was sitting with his arm draped around his girlfriend, Riz, who sniggered.

Jackie stuck her tongue out at them and rolled her eyes. "Hardly. Anna knocked me over and my bag broke, and there's something going on with her that she won't tell me about," she said.

Riz frowned. "Maybe she won't tell you because of what happened with that punk Creevey this morning, Jacks," she said patronizingly.

Jackie smiled, then quashed it quickly and donned her best innocent look. "I had no idea that that prat would embarrass her," she said, and all three of her friends started laughing.

"You did so," Cam said. "You overhead him and his brother last week, remember?"

Harry shook his head, chuckling. "You are seriously evil, Jackie. If Mum finds out that you knew beforehand, she'll kick your arse to next week for doing that to Anna," he warned her.

Jackie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. But that wasn't what I was talking about," she said. "She slammed into me and was rambling something about Granger being hurt."

Cam frowned. "Granger? I just saw her, she's fine."

Riz snorted. "Unfortunately."

Jackie shrugged. "I know, that's what's weird. Anna said that there was Granger, or someone who looked like her, and some other guy, hurt out by the lake. Then she sped off to get your mum," she said to Cameron.

"Ooh, a mystery," Cam said, rubbing his hands, his eyes lighting up. "Shall we do a little snooping?"

Riz rolled her eyes and Harry tossed a throw pillow at him. "You're such a dork, Black," Riz said.

Cam scoffed. "You should talk, dear cousin. You're the one dating boy wonder over there," he said, indicating Harry. Harry scowled and made a very rude gesture, which Cam and Jackie laughed at. "C'mon, aren't you guys even remotely curious?" he asked.

"I am," Jackie piped up.

Harry scoffed. "That because you have to know everything, Jacks," he said.

"Not true," Jackie retorted. "I only have to know everything interesting, therein lays the difference."

Riz rolled her eyes. "Whatever. So go with Cam and figure out your little mystery, and leave us alone so we can snog," she said briskly, and Jackie grimaced.

Cam mimed gagging. "What are you doing in here, anyway? You're a Ravenclaw," he said mock disdainfully.

"I invited her in," Harry replied, just as mock disdainfully. "Now out, you filthy Black."

"Like I want to be around you, filthy Potter!"

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