Through Her Eyes

Chapter 2: The House Elf

Coming too was a far better experience then it had been the first time around. It was more of a bleary eyed unconsciousness, like waking up after a heavy nights sleep. Sighing and groaning just a bit, Hermione forced her eyes to open once, closed them, then tried again. Someone was sitting at her beside, waiting for her to awaken. Shifting slightly, Hermione rubbed her face with a hand, blinking the crust from her eyelids and staring at who exactly had sat to wait for her. Professor Albus Dumbledore looked exactly as Hermione remembered him too be, if not a bit more lively. The creases in his face weren't as deep as before, and the white in his beard wasn't as snowy. Feeling suddenly self conscious, Hermione pulled the blanket up to cover her chest, despite it being covered by a drab hospital gown,

"I hope you are feeling better, now, Miss Black?" Dumbledore questioned, his voice ringing in the elderly way Hermione had greatly missed. Nodding hesitantly, she clutched the sheets tightly between white knuckles. Her hands were so unbelievably pale. As if reading her thoughts (Legitimacy and all that), Dumbledore chuckled,
"Ah yes, I'm sure you will be able to recover your color as the year progresses, Miss Black,"

"Y-yes. U-uhm," Hermione rolled a lip. What could she possibly say? 'I'm actually Hermione Granger and I just fell off a bridge?' Shaking her head slightly, Hermione sighed and cleared her throat, "what...what's today's date, sir?"

Dumbledore lifted a furry brow, but it soon relaxed back into place as Hermione shifted uncomfortably under his gaze,

"Today is the 19th of January, 1975. You've been comatose for precisely 3 months time,"

Hermione felt a chill travel up her spine as her mouth searched for words, but her brain couldn't find answers. She had fallen off a bridge and died in 1998, and somehow woke up almost 20 years in the past (23 years if you want to be exact about it) in 1975. She didn't have her Time Turner, nor did she have any kind of artifact which would transfer her backwards in time. And yet...how could she have possibly time traveled if she was suddenly under the name of 'Miss Black?'. Hermione groaned slightly, holding the heel of her palm to her forehead as a headache began to pulse behind her eyelids. This was worse then studying for her NEWT's,

"Miss Black, are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm alright. I do believe I'm just...thinking too hard about this,"

Dumbledore didn't say anything at first, then made a noise of acceptance and stood, smoothing out his robes and holding his hands together slightly,

"I will leave you to your rest then, Miss Black. But have no fear, your cousin will be punished adequately for this incident, along with any of his friends who were involved,"

Hermione nodded slowly, watching cautiously as Dumbledore disappeared and the Hospital Wing was quiet. Glancing around carefully to make sure Madame Pomfrey wasn't around, Hermione threw the blanket off her legs. They were bare and very pale, almost sickly so, pricking with cold as Hermione grasped the bedside table. She then stood, nearly collapsing from weakness as her hands took tight hold of her half-crutch to keep her standing. If she was going to figure out what happened to her, now was probably the time to start poking around. After all, time travel was forbidden for a reason, and Hermione didn't want to be that reason.
Huffing with the effort, Hermione stood on her own and took a few careful steps. She still felt off balance and wobbly, but she was no wimp. She fought in a war for Merlin's sake! Surely a few 'months' in a hospital bed could be easily overcome. Staring determinedly forward, Hermione made her way around the room once, then twice. Stopping in between laps to visit the full body cast boy, who was most likely bored out of his mind. Finally comfortable walking again, Hermione made her way towards one of the medical closets near Madame Pomfrey's office. Even if she were 20 years in the past, Hermione knew the closets had been there far longer. Opening the door, Hermione turned to look at her reflection in the mirror tacked to the inside of the wardrobe. She had been expecting looking sickly and probably fairly disheveled from bed rest, but what she saw was honest to Merlin startling.
Her face was the same as it had always been, but her once chocolate colored eyes were now a startling, practically glowing cobalt blue. And her precious 'rats-nest' of bushy almond curls was now dark as burnt coffee beans, and - despite being highly tussled - fell wide and lush,
'I look like a bloody Slytherin!' Hermione thought to herself, still staring at her reflection when Madame Pomfrey returned to the room and yelped in surprise and frustration,