A Dance Through Thyme (Harry Potter)

Unsere Entscheidungen

It Is Our Choices

Hermione could hear her shoes gently clicking against the solid stone floor as she made her way through the castle towards Dumbledore's office. It was late in the evening and close to curfew, so she hoped that she wouldn't come across anyone in her travels that might get suspicious. It would perhaps be slightly unnerving to hear the rapid clicks of a person walking, and yet see nobody there.

Now that Hermione had her memory back she was able to navigate her way around the castle exactly as she had as a student. She knew of all the corridors, secret passageways and moving staircases which would get her there the quickest. Despite her fast pace, she was barely short of breath in any way when she finally skidded to a halt in front of the stone gargoyle which guarded the Headmaster's office from unwanted intruders.

Professor Dumbledore had not given her a password this week however; she knew the running theme concerning passwords.

"Sherbert Lemon?" she asked the gargoyle.

He did not move.

"Cockroach cluster? Fizzing Whizbee's?"

Again, the gargoyle did not budge an inch.

"I'm running out of ideas here. Unless the password is something completely random and absurd like Apple Bon Bons, I suggest you move out of the way!" said Hermione in a rather exasperated tone, suddenly jumping back slightly as the stone gargoyle did indeed move out of the way at the words 'apple bon bons'.

Letting out a huff of annoyance, Hermione bolted up the stairs two at a time as they materialised in front of her. Coming in front of the heavy wooden door, she felt fear coursing through her for the first time.

The very moment she had been waiting weeks for was now eventuating, and it came with the kind of feeling that made her fingertips shake, and brow feel moist. She had developed a life here, and had people here who loved her and cared for her.

In the future, she had developed a bit of a romantic relationship with Ron; however the constant disagreements and Ron's propensity to have Hermione do everything for him as his mother had once done, was wearying. She loved Ron, she truly did, but now it had morphed to the love that came with years of friendship and shared experiences. She loved Harry as well, and he loved her in return, but with the same intensity that had always been a part of their friendship.

What else did she have over there?

She had her law enforcement job at the Ministry of Magic. She had an apartment where she lived alone with her plants.

Of course, she had her others friends and her parents, but due to the nature of her spell, would they have even noticed her absence?

More than a few weeks of amnesia had served to emotionally detach Hermione from all of that. She had spent many nights wondering what her old life was like before she remembered its reality. She had imagined having an almost idyllic lifestyle, but now as she stood poised with her hand in the air about to knock on the door to Dumbledore's office, she realised how foolish she had been.

Before she could confuse her thoughts any more, she allowed her hand to make contact with the wood several times.

The door seemed to swing open of its own accord, and Albus Dumbledore's deep voice seemed to resonate from within.

"Come in."

Hermione did as she was bid, walking much slower than what she had to actually get to the office in the first place.

"Hermione, what a pleasant surprise!" exclaimed Dumbledore, his tone much lighter than what it had been previously.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor," asked Hermione somewhat cautiously. It was not until she saw Dumbledore in front of her that she realised that he had in fact been dead in her time. Seeing him so healthy and jovial was unnerving to say the least.