Ok, this is what you do when you're ill on christmas...
Content: Fife years after the decisive fight against Voldemort that caused quite a lot of victims, Hermione returns to Hogwarts.
This is supposed to be some kind of "I know it's forbidden, but I can't go on living this way, so let's change the past"-stories. I know this has been done before, but it was just an idea.
(I guess it's a breeding ground for grammar mistakes...
)
Chapter 1
It were fife years now. Fife years since she’d stood here for the last time, here on the stone stairway in the impressive shadow of the great oaken gate. That day she hadn’t thought she would ever be able to come back again. All she’d wanted was run, far away, escape her memories and forget the unforgettable. She’d travelled all over Europe, from Bulgaria to Russia, over to America and back, she had searched for witches in Lithuania but all she’d found was bitterness and grief whenever she’d spoken the forbidden name.
Now she finally felt strong enough to return here: Hogwarts.
Hermione pulled her black cloak closer to her body when she crossed her old schoolyard. Her breath condensed in the biting autumn breeze and she could sense that a storm was brewing. So many memories hung above this place, thin and silvery, fragile and distinct at the same time. She smiled slightly when the thought of hers and Ron’s first timid kiss crossed her mind - right there behind the hedge it had happened .It was so long ago it seemed like another lifetime to her. Long before Voldemort had… no, she didn’t want to think about it. Maybe the idea to come back hadn’t been that good. Maybe it was still to early…
The young woman breathed in deeply when she reluctantly entered the great hallway. As if it had been yesterday, she remembered the day she had entered this majestic castle for the very first time, its overwhelming beauty, the magic in the air. And still she felt impressed by the sight. Almost nothing had changed since that day, except for the large plaque at the wall. Huge black letters without flourishes were carved into the marble plate.
In Loving Memory.
Shivering, Hermione forced herself to get closer, but shut her eyes when she reached it. For a moment, she wanted to turn around and run away, up to Gryffindor common room and pretend she was little girl again. But she knew it wouldn’t be the same, and if she ever wanted to get on with life, she would simply have to do this now. So she slowly opened her eyes and read the inscription.
In loving memory of those who lost their lives in the final battle against the Dark Lord:
Dumbledore, Albus
Finnigan, Seamus
Lupin, Remus
Potter, Harry
Spinnet, Alicia
Weasley, Percy and finally
Weasley, Ronald
You will be dearly missed.
Tears filled her eyes, urging to spill over, but she swallowed them again. It still seemed unbelievable to her, unfair. They had been a team, Harry, Ron and Hermione. Why did the only real friends she ever had have to die while she was left behind? She would never forget the desperate sound of her own voice yelling through the rain, begging, praying that what she saw wasn’t true. But it had been futile. The dreadful image of Harry’s and Ron’s dead bodies lying in the mud, side by side, had burnt itself forever into her memory.
Slowly, she raised her hand and traced the cold letters with her fingers. It was unfair, so unfair.
“Miss Granger”, a soft voice behind her said suddenly, “it’s been quite a long time since I saw you here." Hermione turned around and looked straight into the dark eyes of the new headmaster. No student of Hogwarts could ever forget this piercing look and its frightening intensity, cold ebony eyes that seemed to stare right into your soul.
“Professor Snape” the young woman replied, smiling slightly. It felt good to see a familiar face, even if it was Snape. Yet she found it hard to imagine him as the headmaster of Hogwarts, and the stitch in her stomach told her how terribly she missed Dumbledore. The old, warm-hearted wizard had sacrificed his own life to finally defeat Voldemort. The whole wizarding world had been mourning for months…
Hermione had no idea what had happened to Mrs McGonagall. She faintly remembered having heard the rumour the she was suffering from some kind of mental disease.
Her look was still directed at Snape. She couldn’t really put her finger on it, but something about him was different. Something about his eyes. They were still black and icy, but a great deal of the anger and hate they’d once radiated was gone…sadness seemed to have taken their place.
The shadow of a smile played around Snape’s lips. “Miss Granger”, he said, “you appear to be freezing. Why don’t you join me for a cup of tea in my office?” Hermione agreed and followed the former potions master to his chambers.
In their first year in Hogwarts, Harry had compared Snape’s way of walking to the one of a predator, proud and striding. It was still rather fast, she noticed as she was walking behind him, but it had lost its aggression, its pride. The beast of pray, she thought, had been tamed.
Though it was shortly after dinner, the hallway was bathed in silence; no pupils that screamed or laughed, even the armours and portraits looked lifeless. Consuming sadness had been drawn across the surface of everyone and everything. Hermione shivered when she followed Snape into the dungeon. Her first impression had deceived her, things had changed. Hogwarts wasn’t Hogwarts without the laughter.
keep going! Please!
