Unlike a Sister (Harmione)

Chapter 21: Hermione Granger

19 April 1999

Harry fell in slow motion, wisps of silver contorting and solidifying around him. Finally, his feet met spongy earth and he steadied himself.

It was a chill, spring evening. A mile down the road, Hogsmeade glowed like a fiery constellation. To his right, Hogwarts rose, that mammoth sentinel of stone. Save for the hum of insects and the flutter of wings in the surrounding forest, all was still. Only the figure at the gates was out of place.

Harry closed the distance between them, his steps soundless. Coming to the side, he looked into the face of his eighteen-year-old self and his skin rose up in gooseflesh.

Younger Harry gave no indication that his future counterpart stood before him. His shadowed eyes were fixed on the castle.

He was handsome. Almost ludicrously so. It was upsetting.

At just over six feet, he was two inches shorter than Harry was now. His build was slimmer and his muscles were beautifully lithe, shoulders hunched slightly as though unaccustomed to his own frame. The silver Trainee armband was stark against the black wool of his cloak, which had the seal of the Auror Department pressed into its stays. His hair was still jet-black, no sign of the grey that touched Harry's temples now, and his face was smooth, yet defined along the jaw. The brows were heavy and shrouded eyes the color of struck malachite, which were filled with an odd combination of yearning and a practiced seriousness. Only one thing was the same: the thin scar deliberately hidden beneath his fringe.

The greatest change was in their composure. Younger Harry was tightly wound, crackling with repressed energy. He flexed his fingers and stretched his neck from side to side in agitation. He didn't seem capable of standing still. Occasionally, he banged the toe of his boot against the gate blocking his path.

Harry couldn't help smiling.

The man before him, who had an undeniable physical and evocative attraction, had none of the equanimity and sprezzatura Harry had achieved in later life. This version of Harry was still very much a boy: defensive, eager to prove himself, and impatient with almost everything. Older Harry was fairly confident in this assessment because reliving your own memories in the Pensieve creates a certain awareness. Placed within the exact context and location of his earlier life, Harry abruptly recalled memories and thoughts long forgotten. He could not directly listen to the thoughts of his younger self, but he felt certain his own thoughts and emotions were similar to what the eighteen-year-old must be experiencing.

His boot struck the gate again.

The spring of 1999 was a perilous time for the Auror Department. The ranks of the Aurors fell by a third after the Death Eater coup in 1997. Some Aurors fled and joined the fight against the Dark Lord. But many more retreated to their homes, waiting to see how the war would play out.

The Aurors who stayed behind suffered a harsher fate. Some joined the Death Eaters, sympathetic to the cause from the start. Others, and especially those who performed essential roles in Intelligence and Taboo monitoring, were placed under the Imperius. After Voldemort's death, the bewitched Aurors were quickly reinstated and those who had joined the Death Eaters were imprisoned, their loyalty to the Dark Lord confirmed by magical evaluations. By the end of it all, the Auror Department was less than half of what it had been before the assassination of Rufus Scrimgeour.

Officially, Harry was an Auror Trainee. Not even a year had passed since his joining up. But the three-year training programme had been suspended. In June of 1998, Acting Minister Shacklebolt and the first postbellum Auror Chief, Heath Whitehorn, announced that any able-bodied witch or wizard who was willing to hunt down the remnants of Voldemort's forces would be welcome in the AD. There were requirements, of course. Over seventeen years of age. In good physical condition. No past loyalties or close relations with Death Eaters.