Just a head's up- this whole story has been slightly revised so it takes place over Christmas break (come on, little Hermione in her Christmas dress, what could be cuter? GRINS!) More fun will certainly ensue, rather than over summer break. So take a short moment, refamilarize yourself with the story and with the small little changes
You guys know the drill, I don't own the characters, wish I did because I would be really wealthy. Yes, I am going to start working on "It's a small world afterall" again.
This is not compliant with the books passed.. oh let's say book five? IDK. It's just a bit of fun.
Don't fry me because I'm nutters. I know that already.
And now, without further ado: Let's get rockin!
The Person's Past Potion (say that five times fast!)
It was the week before Christmas in the Golden Trio's sixth year at Hogwarts. They ran past the Great Hall, which was already glimmering with fairies, snowflakes floating from the enchanted ceiling, and fragrant Christmas trees.
"Only a few days left!" Ron said, as they made a dash for the dungeons, skipping breakfast once again.
Harry and Ron left their potions homework to the last minute and Hermione had only JUST finished going over their final drafts.
"Double potions!" exclaimed Ron, unhappily. "I can't take another week! This blows goats."
"RONALD!" Gasped Hermione. "That was very inappropriate." She loved potions; she loved the professor who taught potions. No one knew that, though. He gave her butterflies in her stomach. She wanted, more than anything, to make a difference in him. But it would never happen. He was too difficult to reach.
"For once, I concur, Ms. Granger, that will be 30 points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasely," said Severus Snape as he swooshed past the group, leading the way into the potions class room.
"Today, we will brew the Person's Past Potion. Who can tell me what this potion ... Yes Ms. Granger, please enlighten us with your regurgitation of information from the book." He sneered.
"It will allow us to look at ourselves in the past. We can see our mannerisms and memories from the time we were little to the present. The potion acts almost like a pensive, but pulls memories we don't actively remember," she said, excitedly.
"You will be able to see yourselves from toddlerhood to the present, joyous of all joyous occasions." He sneered. "This is a very useful potion when trying to remember events of your own past or determine patterns. The instructions are on the board... BEGIN." He said as students scrambled to the gather the ingredients.
Hermione gathered her ingredients and plucked six strands of her hair, to add at the end. The classroom was boiling. The potion required a high heat and Hermione hadn't been feeling well to begin with, thirty cauldrons bubbling with the intense heat made the dungeon feel like the third level of Hell.
As she finished with the main ingredients, she dropped the strands of hair into the cauldron one by one, watching as the potion turned from pink, to peach, to gold, to green, blue and finally a deep purple. The sweat gathered on her forehead; she was ready to faint.
She leaned over the cauldron. It was a bit like watching the tellie. She saw her two year old self skipping down a path at the zoo, with her Mummy and Daddy. It was one of the few days they spent with her. She was tiny, even for a two year old. She was short and frail, giving her a pixie-like look. Her ringlets bounced with each skip, people said she looked like a little Shirley Temple. She wore a blue and white dress and shiny black shoes. She was "educating" her parents on the fact that snakes have no eyelids.
She completely forgot this day. She had little relationship with her parents. They used the excuse that they didn't want children. They were dentists, they worked a lot and when they weren't at work, they went out together and with friends. Babysitters and nannies took care of her basic needs, but not her emotional needs. Once in a while, she got to see her parents. She loved them, as all children love their parents, but shared no bond with them. So Hermione entertained and took care of herself. She preferred to be alone.
The sweat rolled down her nose; before she could wipe it off, a drop fell into the cauldron. She had no time to react. There was no boom, no warning. Suddenly, the potion sprayed out of the cauldron coating her in purple gook. A searing pain made her feel like she was being burned from the inside out, horrid and intense.
Severus Snape was grading papers. The students were finished the brewing and were now giggling or moaning with embarrassment as they leaned over their cauldrons. He glanced up to see one cauldron spraying its contents over the unlucky viewer. He had never seen anything quite like it and thought it a bit amusing as he noticed WHO was being sprayed. Little Know-it-all finally got put in her place, he sneered.
Everyone looked up as Hermione screamed in agonizing pain.
Potter and Weasely dashed to her side-
"LEAVE HER! DO NOT TOUCH HER" Severus roared.
The startled boys paused to look at him.
"She's covered in potent potion; I suggest you back up unless you want to see what fate belies one who comes in contact with another's Person's Past Potion. I can imagine it would NOT be pleasant." He purred. "Class dismissed!!!! THAT INCLUDES YOU POTTER!"
"Ms. Granger, can you hear me?" He asked, noting she hadn't reacted since the accident.
She nodded.
"Well, well, well," Severus purred hatefully, "looks like the Know-it-all was knocked down a few notches. I have never seen anyone's cauldron SPIT at them. Not even Longbottom has accomplished that abysmal feat, 50 points from Gryffindor. Go to the bathroom and wash off. If you feel anything out of the ordinary, report to Madam Pomfrey. Now, get out."
The rest of the day passed smoothly. It was evening at last. Hermione slid on her favorite nightgown, the one that made her feel like a princess. It was long, white satin. There was a ruffle at the bottom and on the sleeves. She climbed into bed and fell asleep.
She rolled over and looked at her clock- 3:12 a.m. She couldn't sleep. She decided to use the loo. She threw her feet over the edge of the bed and promptly hit the icy cold ground. Lavender rolled over in her sleep.
Hermione was startled, stunned, scared, and all of those other S words. She stumbled to the loo. She couldn't see over the sink to look in the mirror. This was not good. She was less than three feet tall, her hair lay in ringlets, her fingers and toes were baby-sized. She sunk to the floor and pinched herself. It hurt. This was SO not good.
Hermione got to her feet. Her nightgown swallowed her. She stumbled and tripped, attempting to hold up the extra fabric. She dashed to the common room, struggled through the portrait and ran to the steps. Her bare feet were icy and she wished she had wrapped herself in a blanket before leaving the warmth of the Common Room.
Was she going to the infirmary or to Professor Snape? While it would have been amusing to see Professor Snape's reaction to a two year old standing outside his door, she decided the hospital wing was a better choice. Then she realized another problem. Her legs didn't want to support her on a level plane, much less steps.
She heard footsteps. "Thank Merlin!" She thought. She had someone to help her. But that someone turned out to be Mr. Filch and his cat. "What the..." he said upon seeing her, "how did you get here? Who are you?" His eyes narrowed.
Something came over Hermione, something in her clicked and she had the desire to cry. So she did. Her little lower lip trembled and big tears poured down her face.
Filch's eyes widened, he backed up, as if he was facing a three headed dog. "Now, now, we don't need any of that," he said continuing to back away.
Just then, Professor Snape passed the bottom of the stairs, what he was doing in this part of the castle at that time of the morning was anyone's guess... but he was there.
"Professor," Filch croaked.
"What is it, Filch? Snape sneered.
"Got a little problem up here," he replied, as the professor walked up the steps, squinting in the darkness at a small figure.
He got to the top to find a small child crying. She was tiny; he had never seen anyone so small. Her little legs shook beneath her as they tried to continue to support her weight.
"Now, who are you and how did you get here?" He asked, not unkindly, so as not to frighten her.
"Professor, I was coming to find you." She replied in a babyish voice.
"And you are?" He asked.
"I'm Hermione Granger."
'Bloody hell,' was all he could think. It had to be the potion, but how? He had never seen such a reaction. His head spun.
"Hospital wing," he commanded. He couldn't even be snarky. Whether it was the early hour or shock, he couldn't find it in him. He continued to think as he walked down the steps. He turned to look at her and found she was not there. He turned back; she was at the top of the stairs.
"Well?" He asked impatiently.
She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of needing his help. She grasped the marble and used it for support as she neared the first step. It seemed easier to go down sideways, so she put her left foot down, then stepped onto her right. This was going to take all night, she thought, as she hid a smile of accomplishment. At least she didn't ask him for help.
This was going to take all night, he thought. Frustrated, he glided up the steps and scooped her up in one arm. She weighed nothing, 25 pounds, at the most. She was terribly cold and he pulled his cloak around the both of them, without even considering how "nice" the gesture may appear to onlookers. (After all, the Bat-of-the-Dungeons couldn't be seen as being "nice").
As they got to the bottom of the last flight of stairs, Albus appeared. "Who is this darling child, Severus?"
Snape put her down as though she burned him, "Hermione Granger, headmaster."
"What happened, Severus?" Gasped McGonagall, who appeared at Albus' side.
'Well isn't this a bloody tea party,' thought Severus. 'Why are we all up at 3:30 in the morning? Moreover, the castle is tremendous, why are we gathered in this spot!?' He was exhausted. He had been down to the dungeons to check on a potion and was returning to his chambers in the south tower when ran across Filch and the "little problem."
Severus explained. "The students brewed the Person's Past Potion in class. Ms Granger was viewing her childhood when the cauldron began spraying its contents onto her. I don't know what she did to cause the reaction. She was fine when she left the dungeons."
"I'm right here, you know." Squeaked the witch as she put her hands on her hips and stomped her foot.
"I believe, Ms. Granger, you should go to the hospital wing." Albus said, he needed time to sort through things.
"I'm not sick," said little Hermione stubbornly.
"No, child, we want make sure you don't show any other signs. Come." Minerva guided Hermione to the hospital wing; before she turned the corner, she looked at her professor and stuck her tongue out. When she did this, light from the candles in the corridor extinguished. She looked surprised but her surprise turned to smugness as she turned and flounced away.
"Apparently, Ms. Granger has lost control over her magic or has gained the use of wandless magic... however you look at it, this new development has complicated things a bit," noted Dumbledore.