Hermione opened her eyes and was immediately confused. She was standing in the deserted front hall of Hogwarts, in her pajamas. It was late afternoon, based on the quality of light streaming in from the high windows. But how did she get here?
The last thing she remembered was sitting in the Burrow’s kitchen, staring hard at her best friend. Harry, grim and quiet after Ginny retrieved him from the porch, calmly listened as she and Fiora recounted their capture and escape from the Oubliettium. Hermione knew that she may have won the battle this time, but the war had just begun; there were far too many hard feelings between Harry and Snape for one brief conversation with Ginny to smooth everything over.
Hermione stood for a moment, gathering her bearings. She realized her wand was in her hand, and she held it aloft. Though her breath puffed out before her in tiny, regular clouds, she didn’t feel cold. She hesitantly walked forward, towards the Great Hall, the stones of the floor cool but not unpleasant beneath her feet.
She heard a steady rustling sound emanating from an archway ahead. It was the stairwell that led to the dungeons and Snape’s old Potions classroom. Hermione peered curiously at the stairs, sensing movement in the shadowy dimness. She suddenly saw what was making the whispery, rustling noises.
A large, purple, bird-like creature, about the size of an eagle, flapped out of the darkness into the hallway. Its skin was shimmery, almost as if threads of gold were imbedded in its feathers. Its stomach was bloated and seemed to be slowing it down “ the bird-thing waved its wings up and down but was barely moving through the air. As Hermione stared in revulsion, another, identical creature appeared from the gloom of the stairway. The first bird locked gazes with Hermione as it aimlessly circled the air above her, sadness and fear apparent in its green eyes.
“I must be dreaming,” she surmised, as a third and fourth creature joined the first pair in from the stairs, their bellies heavy and burdensome as well. And she suddenly knew she was dreaming. She moved forward, towards the archway, still afraid somehow, but knowing that if there was any enlightenment to be had from this dream, she’d find it in the dungeons.
She head down the dank staircase as dozens of the slow-moving, aubergine-colored birds fluttered sluggishly overhead, their bellies full and heavy, their eyes wistful. She wasn’t sure why, but she avoided contact with the creatures. There was something about them she really didn’t like.
She reached the bottom of the staircase and stood for a moment, debating her next move. She heard muttering and bursts of irritated grunts coming from Snape’s old classroom up ahead. Even without these, she would have known where to go “ the stream of miserable avian creatures was coming from this room. Hermione ducked under one of them and stepped into the classroom. What she saw horrified her.
Snape stood at a large stone slab in the center of the otherwise empty classroom. He was surrounded by a complicated network of glass beakers and pipes, which were filled with a sticky-looking, gooey black substance. Clutched in his long, thin hand was one of the purple birds, which was struggling to break free. With his other hand, Snape was forcing a beakerful of the black liquid down its throat. The animal seemed terrified but unable to avoid swallowing the stuff.
Snape looked up, straight at her. He continued to grasp the bird in his hand, but, surprisingly, he grinned broadly at Hermione, as if she were an expected and welcomed guest. This dream-version of Snape was pleased beyond belief that she was here, standing barefoot in her pajamas, watching him perform some kind of tortuous experiment on weird-looking birds.
“Miss Granger! It’s about time!” Snape went back to force-feeding the black liquid to the creature in his hand. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d show up at all!” He rolled his eyes fondly at her, in a decidedly un-Snape-like manner, as she approached the stone slab he was working on.
“What are you doing to those...those…birds, Professor? What is this stuff?” Hermione’s stomach rolled as she watched the oily goo move sluggishly through its glass pathways.
“Oh, this? It’s secrets, of course. Secrets - and lies, too. Someone’s got to pay the price for them, don’t you think?” Snape released the bird and it began its laborious journey out of the classroom and up the hallway. Hermione watched it go with pity. She turned back to Snape and saw, with no surprise, that another bird had appeared in his hands.
“But…but Professor, can’t you see? You’re hurting these creatures! They look like “ like they’re in pain. Like they might…die,” she finished quietly.
Snape pondered this for a moment. His cheery expression faltered a bit as he stared hard at the bird in his grip. But then he smiled sunnily back at Hermione. “Well, I guess them’s the breaks! I am just trying to get by here, I can’t be responsible for the consequences!” He chuckled and went back to feeding the black liquid to the new bird.
Hermione was flummoxed. She didn’t like this thoughtless, though cheerful, version of Snape anymore than she cared for the real, snarky version. “Well that’s a fine attitude Professor! It’s not your problem, you’re just ‘trying to get by’?” The real Snape, though he had many shortcomings, was never one to shirk personal responsibility.
“Why are you acting like this?” She demanded.
“Well now, I don’t know Miss Granger, this is your dream, after all. It’s your brain that has me doing these things, behaving this way. You’re the genius, figure it out,” Snape abruptly threw the bird down on the stone table, turned away from her, and picked up an object Hermione hadn’t noticed.
It was a hand mirror, and it looked familiar. Snape had his back to her, but he held the mirror up to his face and she could see his reflection. But it wasn’t Snape’s homely, sallow face smiling back at her. It was Sirius’ handsome features. The reflection spoke.
“Think on this, Hermione. Put the pieces together. Things aren’t always what they seem. Most people aren’t just bad or good, evil or saintly. Most of us are a combination of positive and negative qualities “ and many people act selfishly. Even if they don’t really want to harm others, they think of themselves first,” Sirius’ face looked sad but resigned. As she watched, Sirius’ features dissolved and reformed into Lupin’s pale, friendly image.
“Sirius is right, Hermione “ and so is Snape, truth be told. Almost everyone has something to hide at some point “ whether it’s decency, or greed, or love, or fear “ but in this case, secrets really can kill. You have to figure it out. All the pieces are here, it’s just a matter of putting them together. Do you understand?” Before Hermione could answer Lupin, the face in the mirror changed again, and a woman’s face swam into view. McGonagall’s.
“This is about personal responsibility, Ms. Granger,” her intellectual idol intoned, pushing her glasses up her nose. “It’s not about intent, it’s about actions. And someone has been behaving very irresponsibly, someone who’s heart is usually in the right place, even if their actions aren’t always, well, sensible.” She clucked her tongue, and the mirror’s reflection shifted again. Hermione felt dizzy, felt an irresistible urge to wake herself up, but she knew she didn’t have the answer…yet. Arthur Weasley’s red hair and crinkly smile, so much like Ron’s, beamed back at her.
“You’re nearly there, Hermione. Think of the message Snape wanted you to pass on to me “ there’s a leak in the Order! Someone who should know better is passing information on to the Ministry “ Percy himself heard Scrimgeour, remember? If we don’t get to the bottom of this, well, it could put those we love in grave danger…”
Mr. Weasley’s visage dissolved, and a sudden rush of faces “ Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Ginny, Fred, Molly Weasley, Dolores Umbridge, Hagrid, Belletrix Lestrange, Draco Malfoy, many others “ sped by in the mirror, faster and faster until Hermione felt nauseous and their features all blurred together. The mirror dropped to the cobblestone floor and shattered into thousands of tiny pieces.
The person holding it turned around. It was Harry. His eyes were as green and as wistful as the purple birds that still flew overhead. He pulled something from the back pocket of the jeans he was wearing. It was another mirror. He placed it in her hand, face-down.
“There’s two of them, remember? That’s the key, that’s always been the key,” Harry told her gravely. “For over a year, I’d look and look into the mirror, but he was never there. It hurt too much. So I chucked it. Someone found it “ and found the other one as well, apparently. Someone who’s very good at taking stuff that doesn’t belong to him…but this time, he’s gone too far. He’s going to get me killed if we don’t stop him. And just because he didn’t mean for it to happen, that it was mostly selfishness and carelessness on his part, that won’t make any of us feel better, will it?”
Her best friend held her gaze and Hermione realized that everything was dissolving around them. She was about to wake up, she knew it.
“Harry! Who is it? Tell me, quickly! Who’s Scrimgeour’s spy?” She reached out for him frantically, but he was disappearing before her eyes.
“You know, Hermione. This is your mind’s way of telling you. The pieces were all there, it was just a matter of putting them together. Go on, take a look…the mirror…” Harry was gone.
Hermione, her heart racing, flipped the mirror in her hands over…
* * *
…and bolted awake in the Burrow’s full rumpus room, the sleeping shape of her friends all around her. She woke them all as she gasped, “Mundungus Fletcher!”
The Time is Now by Hermione816
Chapter Notes: Ok, guys, you may want to go back to some of the earlier chapters and review...remember Percy's warning to the Trio before the wedding? Snape's claim there was a leak in the Order? Who is Scrimgeour paying to rat out Harry's plans? Our favorite girl genius figures it out - in her dreams.