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The Lion and the Snake	By : MichaelaElse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 6170 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER! This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. I make no money

Chapter List
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‘Take this in hand

Said he who stands

Behind the chair

A broken table there’

- ‘Every Christian Lion Hearted Man Will Show You’ by the Bee Gees, 1967

Chapter II: A Christian Lion Hearted Man

The experience was horrible. Who would invent an object that would inflict such pain to its user in the event of Time Travel? At that she wanted to give it’s inventor a serious talking to, giving him or her one of Hermione Granger’s notorious, righteous and clinically correct opinion to their workmanship and how to rectify said problem before ever allowing anyone in existence from using the object before they did it! Gah, the pain was mind-numbing, her whole body felt warmly numb as needles danced over her skin in waves but as the minutes of darkness progressed the pain decreased to a slight hum to its original intensity, the cogs in her mind began to lubricate and creak into living as they began to spin, the lights flicked on, the blinding light of, whatever it was, pierced her eyelids and made her groan in pain as the after effects created a headache. Slowly her eyelids fluttered open, her sight was met with gold and grey, she blinked again and the blobs of colour began to focus into distinct objects – a grey stone wall and gold gilding on an object in front of said wall. She blinked once more, details heightened into depth and height, light and shadows – WOULD THAT THING STOP GLARING THE LIGHT RIGHT AT HER! – she brought a hand over her brow to shield her sensitive eyes from the glaring light streaking from the reflective gold, the thing was tall and her subconscious sent a vibe of recognition to her thought process as she followed the structure up to the tall vaulted ceiling that distinctly looked medieval in construction – all masonry – she let her eyes scan back down to the top of the structure from the ceiling to see a gold rampant lion with its mouth agape perched on top of the structure that was solely constructed of glass and gold. The vibe again barged to the forefront of her mind with much more force – a spark flickered to life instantly as her gaze worriedly swooped along the hall to three more hour-glass shapes standing in a row along a wall, both pairs separated by a large wooden arch door. Her blood ran cold instantly – she was in the entrance hall of Hogwarts, how was that possible? Time-Turners only turned time, they didn’t change your location in Space at all – but – she reminded herself, that the object clutched within her hand wasn’t a Time-Turner. She inhaled a deep breath, she looked to her left, her sight was met with a stone wall, she turned her head to the right, she was met with an uninterrupted view of an empty Entrance Hall and the majority of that view was of a floor, a very worn floor, cold seeped into her body through her back, no wonder she felt so secure – she was laid flat on her back. She couldn’t remember falling, she couldn’t remember anything of the experience from travelling here – it felt like she didn’t move at all. She groaned as she brought herself to her elbows and knees. She opened her right fist and stared wide-eyed at the glittering gold and onyx object in her palm. It looked so innocent, the Latin she remembered reading returned to the incomprehensible script before she travelled back to this Time. She dragged herself to her knees, she opened her beaded-bag, which thank-fully was still attached to her belt-loop throughout the journey, she pocketed the artefact into its bottomless cavern along with Dumbledore’s letter and the necessities she packed for the Horcrux hunt – which she will never do now. She sighed and braced herself against the wall and pushed herself to her feet and walked around the Gryffindor hour-glass into the mass expanse of the empty entrance hall.

“Who goes there?”
Her heart jumped into her throat as she spun round to see a rather younger Professor Slughorn in front of the entrance to the Dungeons, wearing his customary tweed jacket, a black cloak around his shoulders, straining around his plump frame as he scrutinized her with his beady blue eyes of his.

The moments of silence was deafening, straining as she struggled to think of an excuse up so quickly and off kilter.

“I’m sorry Professor, I was looking for Professor Dumbledore – I’m a transfer student, seventh year, and I’m here for a meeting but my parents unfortunately couldn’t accompany me”

The guarded expression wasn’t something she didn’t see much on the Professor in her own time, he seemed so trusting and gullible but it seemed her story didn’t ring true with the long pause she gave upon answering him.

“I’m sorry, Miss-” he began, his voice imploring for her name.

“Granger, Hermione Granger” she replied instantly. And as soon as the first syllable of ‘Granger’ left her mouth she wanted to bang her own head against a very solid wall exclaiming her own stupidity of giving her own name to the Professor.
A flicker of recognition crossed his features, his face lit up, a beaming smile split the thin grim line of his lips, she was confused at the reaction to her name upon the man, hopefully it didn’t show on her face – if it did he didn’t acknowledge it as he merrily strode up to her, courteously taking her by the arm.

“Allow me to escort you, Miss Granger, I’m sure Albus will be eagerly expecting you!”, his deep voice definitely sounded merry – almost, if not more merry as the tone he used with Harry back in her time- but one thing remained, she wasn’t famous like Harry Potter, so he couldn’t want to add her into his ‘collection’.

They walked at a merry pace all of their own, his steps many but no overly hurried, as he kept glancing at Hermione in the corner of his eyes before looking straight ahead.

“I’m sure you will love Hogwarts, my dear--”

His merry chattering carried on all the way to the corridor leading to the Headmaster’s office, so it was indeed a time where Professor Dumbledore had become the Headmaster – that could be dated around 1955 to 1997, the year of his death, and she had no way of knowing until it was brought up in conversation or she spied a Daily Prophet- which was highly unlikely as they approached the gargoyle standing guard.
“Lemon drop”

Hermione tried to remain indifferent at the silly password that reminded her so much of her Dumbledore’s wit and distinctly English sense of humour. A small smile graced her face as the gargoyle leaped aside to admit them entry to the revolving staircase.
“Ladies first, Miss Granger” Slughorn courteously said, waving his hand to the entrance and the stone steps spiralling out of view.
“Thank-you, Professor”

She didn’t need to be told twice – it could have been good old English manners allowing a woman to lead the way, Slughorn was of the older generation, but he did seem younger and less rounded around the middle and jovial as if the First War wasn’t at its peak of destruction like it was in the Marauders era so that narrowed it down some more and now fear of the unknown gripped her – she wouldn’t have any familiar faces here at Hogwarts other than the staff if her assumptions were correct. Yet she didn’t falter in her rhythmical steps until she reached the landing and the large arched wooden door with its iron strengthening bars and decoration with an old fashioned lever handle with a large ring.

A booming knock broke her out of her revelry, making her startle and make her body lurch in surprise, a loud chuckle came to her left.

“Sorry, my dear”

“Not at all-” she began but the door swung open of its own accord followed by a familiar voice, jovial and light as always – bidding them entrance.

Slughorn disappeared into the Headmaster’s office and Hermione followed after him with slower more hesitant steps as she glanced around the room taking in the familiar nonsense objects that she didn’t know the names or purposes to half of them scattered about the room in chaotic order that was distinctly Albus Dumbledore fashion. She glanced at Fawkes, the phoenix sat on his perch in much the same condition she left his future self in – in the prime of one’s life if not a bit aged around the edges, some feathers askew and left un-preened. He lifted his head at the newcomer and gave a light trill before turning his head to his Master that sat at the desk.

Her heart swelled at seeing her Headmaster alive and well – but in all honesty- he wasn’t her Professor, she was a trespasser in Time and shouldn’t be here invading a Time gone by, lived and forgotten in the many sands of Time. His blue twinkling eyes stared merrily at her if not a bit guarded as he half-hearted listened to Slughorn ramble about god knows what before getting to the point.

“- I found Miss Granger in the Entrance Hall, Albus, she says she’s here to see you about transferring!” he merrily concluded, oblivious to the silent exchange of wills – Albus’ eyes searching Hermione’s for information, Hermione’s for trust and to go along with it.

The Headmaster was first to break eye contact as he looked back at his Potion’s Professor with his jovial face, his piercing eyes looking over his half-moon glasses that perched on a crooked nose.

“Ah, yes, I’ve been expecting you Miss Granger” he lightly spoke, his voice much as she remembered it, having a dreamily trust-worthy quality that lulled a relaxed heaved sigh from her as he decided to go along with the story she went with. “I’ll take it from here, Horace” he added, dismissing the Potion’s Master as his eyes swept to the open door to his office.
“Ah-Yes, Good Day to you Albus, Miss Granger” he replied lightly, his voice somewhat subdued than its previous jovial self, his face and body posture mirrored the same put-out quality as he hastily moved to the exit of the office and back to his preparation duties for the upcoming school year.

As the great door clicked shut the rippling warmth of magic spread over the expanse of the circular room – it seems Dumbledore was weary of the conversation ahead and nosey professors that might eavesdrop.
“Good Day to you Miss Granger, it’s so kind of you to drop by without any given warning and I can assure you that are lack of prior contact will be lost on the staff”

Hermione stayed silent, uncomfortably shifting from one foot to the other as she tried to keep her face indifferent and trying to hold in the urge to worry her lip between her teeth.

“Please have a seat” Dumbledore added, noting her discomfort with his piercing blue eyes of his, he didn’t look much younger than she remembered him from her time, he had silver-white hair and beard that was just short of his belt around his midriff, his blue eyes seemed shades darker than she remembered but that could be the darker shade of sky blue robes he was wearing reflecting that misconception of depth in those glassy blue eyes of his that held an icy like quality to them but the twinkle radiated warmth as he waved his hand gesturing to the wooden chair in front of his large desk. The previous Headmasters portraits were silent except for a few snores or they emptied with a mere glance from the current Headmaster as his gaze swept around the room’s portraits.
She obeyed silently and took the seat; it was much too large for her slight frame.

“Professor- I’m sorry to barge in like this but I believe you sent me here--” Hermione began to explain, her voice hesitant and she hoped it wouldn’t break under the pressure or the repercussions that it would bring with her being here in the past divulging even this tiny bit of information to the Headmaster.

“I certainly did not, Miss Granger”

“No, your ‘other self’ Professor” she pressed on instantly, almost clipping her own name as it left his mouth, at her snapping tone, Dumbledore’s lips set into a thin line as he gazed down his crooked nose at her over his half-moon glasses with his elbows set on the desk in front of him and his hands and fingers linked together resting against his mouth in a sign to allow Hermione to continue her tale uninterrupted.

She hastily opened her beaded bag and dived her arm all the way up to her arm pit to retrieve the note and artefact, she glanced down at it, the metal cool and dormant in her palm before placing the parchment and the unknown object onto the writing slope in front of the Professor. He unlinked his hands and removed his elbows from the desk as he gazed down at the object in amazement. He then turned his attention to the parchment and gingerly opened the folded note to reveal his script in the emerald green ink that was within his inkwell this very moment. He removed a hand and pushed his half-moon spectacles up the bridge of his nose again before returning his attention to the seemingly innocent masterpiece of technology that all time-turners tried to replicate.

“It seems I owe you an apology, Miss Granger, it seems I was acted fast to judge but as you see we’re entering dark times-”

“The war with Voldemort, Sir?”

“Indeed Miss Granger, and I won’t ask you about how you know of his Name, Miss Granger, but it’s safe to say that his evil has spread as far as the place you have come from.” He replied, holding a hand for silence as Hermione tried to elaborate on her abrupt question.

“Do you know what you have there, Miss Granger?” he asked, his voice sounded so innocent as he gestured down with a wave of his hand to the pendant like item laying innocently on his desk, twinkling in the natural light.
“No, Professor – only what you have written on that note” she gingerly answered, her eyes turned guarded as she looked over the item again looking for a sinister edge to it or something she had missed before but all was as she remembered it.

“It’s known as ‘The Eye of Faith’, there are many fables describing its origin, some are mythical and others have written reports believing it to be a sentient being that travels in Time to where it is needed and others believe that it was created by one of the greatest wizards of known history and a founder of this very school, Miss Granger” he elaborated, his voice ever misleading her from the grave subject at hand.

“What do you believe, Sir?”

“Me? I believe that all is created and there is confidential evidence that a Founder of Hogwarts created it – the very first Time-Turner- and it has been passed down the generations of the direct descendants to the current family known as the Grangers” he deduced, his gaze thoughtful as he looked at Hermione – no, through her as the underlying message sunk into her thought processes.

“I cannot be from the Granger family you speak of, Professor; I’m a Muggle-born.” She gasped, affronted at the very thought that she was from one of those stuck-up wizarding families that quoted ‘I’m descended from someone famous’ for all of their lives without striving to better their claim with their own achievements.

“Are you anyway related to Hugo Granger or Richard Granger?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion but found it unwarranted when Albus Dumbledore gave her the same warming open look, but his eyes were ever so serious and guarded also.

“Hugo Granger is my father, a muggle, and Richard Granger was my Grandfather – but I never knew of him, he died before I was born, my Father said he died when he was only a boy.” She slowly replied her voice strong yet hesitant as Dumbledore’s face began to change to a more aggressive face but she could tell his passive aggression wasn’t turned towards her.

“So magic only skipped a generation then” Dumbledore mused to himself as she swept to his feet and turned about the room in swift paces, his hands tucked to his back.

“Not much is known of Richard, he was a friend of mine here at Hogwarts when I attended, he was a fifth-generation half-blood, his Family didn’t believe in keeping their bloodline pure unlike many other families….” He began rambling almost to himself but Hermione knew it was directed at her alone. “… He was an only child and when Grindlewald rose looking for….magical items… The Grangers were prime targets with well-known artefacts in their possession so he hid in the muggle world and was never seen of again in the wizarding world until ten years ago when his child was born and showed no magical abilities – it’s been documented that when bloodlines are diluted with none magical folk or muggle-borns, that it’s rare but not unseen that a child can be born with no magical abilities at all or can be born a squib.” He concluded and stopped his pacing and returned to his desk and leaned against it towards Hermione that stayed seated, almost rooted to the spot in anticipation.

“Richard Granger was found dead this year on August 14^th, died of suspected heart-attack in the muggle world but in reality was murdered by a wizard unknown- that’s what the Daily Prophet has published a week ago and you, Miss Granger, just turn up in the aftermath of it all what I suspect he was tortured and murdered for” he concluded gesturing to the newly dubbed ‘Eye of Faith’.

“Professor, may I ask which Founder the Grangers were descended from?” her voice was meek, her question almost searching for a reason to brag about a connection of someone long since lost but famous through history. “And now there are two of these ‘Eye of Faith’ in the timeline?”

“You, Miss Granger, are descended from Godric Gryffindor, himself, and Yes I believe there is, the Eye of Faith has only been rumoured to be in the Granger’s possession not even Richard would deny or confirm that fact even to me, I believe his own words were ‘My Family own many treasures – so many I couldn’t even name half of them’, the present Eye of Faith is thought to be lost with Richard’s death” he concluded.

Hermione’s heart leapt at the news yet she quashed the enthusiasm to be related to the noble Godric Gryffindor into the back of her mind as she concentrated at the task at hand.

“Professor, may you safe keep this Eye of Faith, the only safest place I can think of is Hogwarts itself”

“My, Miss Granger, if Gringotts Goblins heard you say that they would never allow you one of their vaults in the future” Dumbledore merrily joked as he eased himself back into his high-backed seat. “I will do as you say Miss Granger but you will have to find the true Eye of Faith to allow me to deliver it to your past self for I believe this one shall disappear when the events make themselves known to us as well as my note also” he added in a more serious tone as he rested his elbows on the table and linked his hands again into a triangle in contemplation.

“Your safest place is here at Hogwarts, Miss Granger, and continue your academic studies and…extra circular lessons with myself” he added after a slight pause, his voice holding emphasis as he held his gaze with Miss Grangers for a moment before turning his gaze to her forehead rather than directly into her eyes.

Hermione swallowed thickly – he was using Legilimency and her mind was an open book to his penetrating gaze and nodded dumbly to his obvious suggestion on learning the art of Occulmency to protect her thoughts and memories from wayward staring even from trusted Headmasters that were masters of the art of Occulmency and Legilimency.

“Will I have to be sorted again, Sir?” she asked, her voice shaky at best and low with grave recognition.

“Indeed you will, Miss Granger, but that will be at the Sorting Ceremony on the First Day of Term like the First Years. I can offer you lodgings here and safe flooing to The Leaky Cauldron to acquire you’re school supplies and a wand, I believe, I will see if Hagrid is free to be your escort for tomorrow, it’s best to beat the last week rush when buying school supplies.” he punctuated the finality of the conversation with a flick of his wrist, lifting the silencing ward and opening the door simultaneously and went back to his Headmaster duties her arrival interrupted. “Good day, Miss Granger, Horace will show you to the vacant Head Girl suit that will be your short term lodgings”

Hermione stood from her seat and walked over to the open door to see an expectant Horace Slughorn, pleased that he had more time with the now famous Miss Granger.

As the Potion’s Professor escorted her Dumbledore’s final words sunk in – ‘…acquire your school supplies and a wand, I believe….’ She pause mid-step, excusing her clumsiness as ‘tripping over her own feet’ and continued to follow Professor Slughorn down the corridor. She forgot her wand on Ginny’s bed in 1997. Holy Cricket.
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The Lion and the Snake