Back In Time

Back In Time: Chapter Three

EDITED: Chapter Three:

The next morning dawn foggy, damp and cold. I still sat underneath the tree, shivering and yawning every few seconds. Normally, if I were this tired I would have no problem falling asleep but the spasms that wracked my body made it completely and utterly impossible.

Pushing myself off of the ground, I quickly wiped the dirt off the back of my pants before walking out of the forest and back towards Hogwarts. I needed to speak to Professor Dumbledore; perhaps he could help me a little bit with sorting out my predicament, surely he would know what to do.

Putting one foot in front of the other became harder the further I walked, my eyelids felt so incredibly heavy. The fact that I had somehow gone back in time because of some unknown spell my father cast had me in shock and nothing felt real to me. As if this was some extensive joke but that didn’t make sense because my father didn’t have a sense of humor. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience, I was here but I really wasn’t. Numb. I suppose that is how some people would explain this feeling inside of me.

As I came up to the massive school, I pushed a door open immediately feeling warmer to be in such a familiar place, nothing had changed since I had last been here.

I went straight to the gargoyle statue that decorated the entrance for Dumbledore’s office, and while I knew that he always used some sort of sweet as a password there were thousands of possibilities and I didn’t know which to choose. The usually packed hallways were empty so I got to work trying to crack the code.

“Chocolate Frogs.” Nothing happened, so I tried again, and again. “Lemon drops… Every Flavor Beans… Pumpkin Pastries.” For several minutes I attempted to guess until I finally came across the correct password.

“Licorice Wands.”

The spiral staircase opened up and I stepped on to the bottom step as the concrete wall shut behind me and the stairs began to move, spiraling upwards. I walked as they moved, so that I made it to the thick wooden door quicker, I was impatient to figure out what had happened to me.

Knocking on the door, it didn’t seem to make a whole lot of noise and it only served to make my knuckles sting and turn red. Why would anyone have a door that did that; one that was so hard that simply knocking on it hurt you?

"Enter." It was unmistakably Dumbledore's voice that called out for me to come in, but it sounded slightly different as well. That was explained when I saw him sitting at his desk, he looked so much younger and it was then the full force of my predicament seemed to hit me full in the face.

I might never see my father again, unless he's my age, I'll never see my friends again. Fred, George, Draco, Harry. Unless I could find a way to get to the year I'm supposed to be in, I'll never see them, never be teased by them and most of all, I'll never be able to tell George how I felt, that my feelings were a little more than 'friendly'.

"Good morning Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Good Morning, Miss..."

"Snape." He nodded as if it made perfect sense, though I suppose it did since I looked just like a female version of my father, without the crooked nose, of course. "I need help, I need you to listen to my story without interruption, can you do that?  It's important, please. I wouldn't ask it of you if it wasn't."

Dumbledore nodded and I began my story, telling him everything from the time I first met the Dark Lord, what he asked me to do, how I couldn't do it and my father, Severus Snape was supposed to kill me but instead, I somehow ended up in the year 1978.

"I believe you."

There was no way to explain how happy those three words made me, when my own father wouldn't believe me I had begun to lose hope that anyone would and I'd just be sent to St. Mungo's because everyone would just think I had gone nutters.

"Come Miss Snape, until we can figure out what to do with you, you'll be put in a house and you'll stay here and finish your classes. What year are you in?"

"Sixth." There was nothing but silence for a long while and I took the time to study his office. His phoenix was still in the same place, looking as healthy as ever and shelves lined his office, filled with tons of books. The portraits of previous headmasters filled the empty space in the walls, some were sleeping peacefully while others walked back and forth from picture to picture, a few waved at me and I smiled in response before turning back to Dumbledore as he made a sudden movement.

He had the Sorting Hat in his hand and as he stood up he walked over towards me, before gently placing it on my head.

With a few mumbled words, which seemed as if the Hat was simply talking to itself it had come to a conclusion.

"GRYFFINDOR!"