𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐒𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄 ᵗᵒᵐ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᶠᵃⁿ ᶠⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ˡ ᵒ ˢ ᵗ ⁱ ⁿ ᵗ ⁱ ᵐ ᵉ

   𝓣he eyelids slowly opened, attempting to acclimatise to the sunlight streaming in through the window curtains. The familiar smell of the room wafted into her senses as she looked around, sweeping the entire hospital wing. There were none of her friends who last time were still stuck here due to the injuries after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.

   She was alone.

   She wondered if her friends had been let out by Madam Pomfrey before she woke up and how long she had been unconscious. That didn't last long because a familiar old man entered the room and seemed ready to bear the answer to her query. The distinctive twinkle in his eyes beamed at her. He approached the bed she was on before standing just to her right. "All right, Miss?"

   "Yes, sir... Where are my friends? Have they been let out of here?" she asked matter–of–factly. Nothing more than a little habit of putting everything before herself in any situation. Which made Ron and Hermione frequently annoyed with her because of it.

   Dumbledore's look searched her, unblinking for a few moments and loaded with meaning. Something inside her churned unhappily as she realised what that look meant. It was just another sympathetic look that others gave her. "I apologise for having to tell you this, but something unfortunate seems to have happened to you. However, it was lucky that I was the one who found you this morning, and the others aren't here until tomorrow."

   Medeia furrowed her brow deeply. "This morning...? The others who?"

   Dumbledore did not answer immediately; instead, he placed a glass full of water on a table next to Medeia's bed. Somehow, the girl did not see the glass brought by Dumbledore before; probably the professor had just used a spell to bring it up. "Fate will not be separated from life; some of them are also not infrequently fatal, even too fatal... It is unfortunate that such a thing should happen to you."
 
   Her eyes followed every movement Dumbledore made. "What do you mean, Professor?"

   "Listen, Miss. You've just been thrown into a different time." he said, without beating around the bush any longer.

   Medeia blinked her eyes a few times ridiculously. "Thrown into... a different... time?" she mumbled, repeating back Dumbledore's words, unsure of what she had just heard.

   "I haven't told you yet, but I found you lying unconscious in Hogsmeade, near the residential area, when I was about to return to Hogwarts after visiting from there. So I decided to transfer you here."

   "H–Hogsmeade? No... There must be some mistake. Before I lost consciousness, I—"
 
   "You weren't in Hogsmeade? Of course, Miss. I told you, you were thrown into a different time, into the past, to be more precise. You're not from the present, but I'd say you're from the future, for me. Perhaps even a distant future from now." Dumbledore smiled with concern.

   Medeia's heartbeat quickened. She was lost for words. Her breath became tense. She began to break out in a cold sweat. Her emotions were in turmoil. With the turbulence still going on inside her, the girl looked at the grey–haired man in front of her. At the same time, she just realised that there were no half–moon spectacles perched on her professor's face. It could be trivial, but it is also very meaningful. "Why didn't I realise it before?"

   "Life is full of surprises." Dumbledore patted her shoulder lightly, as if the surprise that was happening to her was just a birthday surprise that Dudley usually gets.

   "How could I— Professor Dumbledore, but... but the maximum limit of time travel is only five hours!" Hermione told her that the maximum time travel limit was only five hours and that her best friend insisted that it was impossible for wizards or witches to do more than that. Her stomach felt knotted, which made her unable to sit up properly.