Awake

When Hermione woke, she found herself staring at the canopy of a large bed. It looked unfamiliar, and yet familiar. She struggled to sit up, but the movement made her dizzy and she ended up dry heaving into a chamber pot that was conveniently placed by her bed. Feet came running, and Hermione looked up from her pot blearily. There was a boy standing in the door. He looked frightened and upset to see her being ill. She knew him, didn't she? His tousled black hair was sticking up in all directions and behind his glasses his hazel eyes were filled with some emotion she couldn't quite name.

"Mum! Mum, she's getting sick!" The boy called out into the hall in a panicked voice.

Feet were hurrying down the hall, but these were older, more ladylike feet than the boy's full out run when he'd heard her dry heaving. A beautiful woman with chestnut hair and hazel eyes hurried into the room. Her hands were gentle and cool on Hermione's forehead. She helped her back into bed. A swish and flick of her wand and she was letting Hermione sip water from a goblet. The boy had moved to the foot of the bed and continued to watch her with those tortured eyes.

"Hermione," he pleaded from the foot of the bed. "I am so sorry."

"James," his mother's voice was gentle but there was an underlying thread of steel that made the boy look even more miserable. "Not now, dear. You can beg your sister's forgiveness later. Now run along and fetch your father."

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured, his young face stricken as he hurried from the room.

Sister? Was that her? Was she James' sister? Was this woman her mother? A thousand memories started to swirl around in her head at once. In some of them, she was an only child and she knew that her parents were non-magic: muggles. In others, she was the beloved daughter of a wizarding family, and the twin sister of their son. In some, she was going to a muggle elementary school. In others, she and her brother had a nanny and a governess. She saw two boys—one who looked an awful lot like her Jamie, but with green eyes and a funny scar, and a red-headed boy. Both of them were her friends: Harry and Ron. She saw Jamie with that special look in his eyes that was only for his twin. She saw pictures fly by comparing two separate lives. She was so confused, and her head hurt terribly.

"Mummy?" She whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. The beautiful woman with the hazel eyes came back. There was love and worry in her face as she stroked Hermione's forehead.

"I'm right here, love, I'm right here." She soothed gently. "Try to rest, Hermione."

When Hermione awoke again, her head was not quite so dizzy. She was able to gingerly sit up and the room only spun about her a wee bit. Curled up in a chair next to her bed was her mother. Hermione bit her lip. At least, she thought it was her mother. She thought about that for a minute, but then her body made its needs known.

"Mum?" Hermione called. Her mother was instantly awake, her hazel eyes going straight to her daughter.

"Hermione?" There was such worry and tension in her voice that it stunned Hermione.

"Mum, I have to use the facilities," Hermione heard herself say in an embarrassed voice. She blinked. She sounded so…well…ladylike. Her mother stood quickly.

"Of course you do, sweetheart. Here, let me help you." Her mother helped her into the water closet and then helped her back to the bed. Her mother fussed over her greatly, tucking her into bed and turning down the covers. She smoothed Hermione's hair back from her face.

"Do you feel dizzy?" Her mother asked cautiously.

"No. I feel…sort of hungry," Hermione confessed after thinking for a moment. Her mother nodded.

"I'm going to have Notty bring you up a tray with some broth and some toast. Now, do you feel up to have James come see you? The poor boy has been so distraught," Her mother trailed off uncertainly, nibbling on her lower lip.