The Hinge Of Fate PDF Free Download

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Preston Slosson, The Hinge of Fate. Download all slides. For full access to this pdf, sign in to an existing account, or purchase an. The Book of Fate Brad Meltzer The events and characters in this book are fictitious. Certain real locations and public f.

Author: Eric Berlin Submitted by: Maria Garcia 2670 Views View Chapter List Add a Review

The Puzzling World of Winston Breen PDF book by Eric Berlin Read Online or Free Download in ePUB, PDF or MOBI eBooks. Published in January 1st 2007 the book become immediate popular and critical acclaim in mystery, childrens books.

The main characters of The Puzzling World of Winston Breen novel are John, Emma. The book has been awarded with Kentucky Bluegrass Award Nominee (2010), Georgia Children's Book Award Nominee (2009) and many others.

One of the Best Works of Eric Berlin. published in multiple languages including English, consists of 240 pages and is available in ebook format for offline reading.

Suggested PDF: The Most Beautiful Book in the World: 8 Novellas pdf

The Puzzling World of Winston Breen PDF Details

Author: Eric Berlin
Book Format: ebook
Original Title: The Puzzling World of Winston Breen
Number Of Pages: 240 pages
First Published in: January 1st 2007
Latest Edition: April 1st 2009
Series: The Puzzling World of Winston Breen #1
Language: English
Awards: Kentucky Bluegrass Award Nominee (2010), Georgia Children's Book Award Nominee (2009), Maryland Black-Eyed Susan Book Award Nominee (2009), Pennsylvania Young Readers' Choice Award Nominee (2009), Sunshine State Young Readers Award Nominee (2009)
Generes: Mystery, Childrens, Childrens, Middle Grade, Fiction, Mathematics, Puzzles, Young Adult, Realistic Fiction, Childrens, Juvenile, Adventure, Childrens, Chapter Books,
Formats: audible mp3, ePUB(Android), kindle, and audiobook.
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#Chapters
1Chapter 1
2Chapter 2
3Chapter 3
4Chapter 4
5Chapter 5
6Chapter 6
7Chapter 7
8Chapter 8
9Chapter 9
10Chapter 10
11Chapter 11
12Chapter 12
13Chapter 13
14Chapter 14
15Chapter 15
16Chapter 16
17Chapter 17
18Chapter 18
19Chapter 19
20Chapter 20
21Chapter 21
22Chapter 22
23Chapter 23
24Chapter 24
25Chapter 25
26Chapter 26

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The Hinge Of Fate PDF Free Download

Title: Hinge of Fate Chapter One
Author: Ramos
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: R for sexual scenes, including rape.
Summary: Hermione's memory is missing something, including the details onhow she became pregnant. Snape would rather not remember.Disclaimer: These characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. No profitmade from their use.
Author's note: I know this has been done before, but here's my versionwith a twist from 'Memento'. Also, for the record, I'm pro-choice, butI'm not making any kind of statement regarding abortion.
Part I - Discovery
'Don't be absurd!'
It was perhaps not the politest way to repudiate Madame Pomfrey'sdiagnosis, but it was the first thing that came to Hermione's mind.
Normally, Hermione Granger considered herself to be a fairly level-headedperson. Reasonable, thoughtful, and responsible, as well as considerateand respectful to the witches and wizards who oversaw the daily life atHogwarts. This, however, was too much.
The mediwitch pursed her lips in annoyance, but the firmness in her voicenever wavered. 'I'm afraid so, Miss Granger. I've performed the diagnosischarm twice, and combined with your other symptoms, there can be no doubt.'
'Half the school had a galloping case of the flu when they got back fromChristmas break last week, Madame Pomfrey. I helped you and ProfessorCluny brew dozens of Defluenza potions, remember? All I've got is a mildcase of the flu!'
'It is not the flu. I've asked the Headmaster to come and have a talk withyou, young lady. He should be here in a moment; I believe he'll have agreat deal to say to you. Your position as Head Girl will...'
'You've what!?' Hermione interrupted, not caring how rude she sounded.'Honestly!' With that exasperated exclamation, she could no longer remainseated. She abruptly left the narrow white bed she'd been directed to whenreporting to the Hospital Wing this morning and began to pace up and downthe short row of identical beds. It was perhaps fortunate she kept hermuttering under her breath, as Madame Pomfrey would no doubt not haveappreciated being referred to as a senile dingbat, which was the mostcreative appellation her mind could currently supply.
As if in response to her half-intelligible comments, Albus Dumbledoreappeared in the doorway to the infirmary.
'Good morning, Madame Pomfrey, and to you, Miss Granger. I trust you arewell, though it is always a questionable assumption here in the HospitalWing.' Dumbledore smiled with casual good humor, and Hermione had thefeeling he was twitting Madame Pomfrey slightly. When neither woman smiledback at him, he took on a more serious expression.
'Well, Poppy? You summoned me from breakfast, and as you know, I'm ratherfond of blueberry pancakes.'
In bald terms, Madame Pomfrey repeated her diagnosis of Hermione's illness,much to her embarrassment.
'And I've told you, Madame Pomfrey, that there is absolutely no way you canbe correct. I have the flu!'
'The only flu you have, my dear, is the Egyptian flu, and in nine monthsyou're going to be a mummy. You are pregnant, my girl, make no mistake!'
Any further argument was postponed as Professor Dumbledore quietly sat downon the nearest cot. It was more than just a sudden lack of his customarytwinkle; he suddenly looked every one of his hundred thirty-odd years.Even his robes seemed to droop with fatigue over his narrow, bonyshoulders.
'Are you sure, Poppy?' he asked the hovering matron without turning hisattention from where Hermione stood with her arms crossed defiantly overher flat and obviously not pregnant stomach.
'Yes, Headmaster, absolutely sure.'
'Will you kindly pull Miss Granger's record and bring it here, please.'Dumbledore's phrase was polite, but the tone left no doubt it was an order.The older woman made a tsking noise and headed for her office, while atDumbledore's nod, Hermione sat on the nearby stool.
She squirmed under the Headmaster's piercing gaze, but Hermione's self-righteous irritation refused to abate. 'Professor, I don't see how MadamePomfrey could possibly be correct in this. I know she's a wonderful nurse,but this is... it's impossible!'
'Miss Granger...' Dumbledore reached out and laid a wrinkled, spotted handatop hers. 'This will no doubt be a trying afternoon for you, but Ibelieve you will be strong enough to bear it. First of all,' he began,sliding his wand out of his robe's sleeve. 'Finite Memonis Anisthetae,' heintoned, the sliver of wood in his hand stroked the air over her headdecisively.
'Memonis Anisthetae,' Hermione echoed dubiously. 'What is that?' She satback on the stool, clenching either side of her seat with her hands asthough the chair would tilt her out onto the floor.
'It is similar to an Obliviate, Miss Granger. However, it does notpermanently erase the past. It merely sublimates a painful memory untilthe subject is sufficiently recovered to deal with the trauma.'
Her eyes went wide with the word trauma, and the headmaster nodded gravely.'Yes, I'm very much afraid that you have several painful memoriescurrently buried in your subconscious. And they will without a doubtsurface, soon or late. Perhaps sooner than would be wise, now that I'veremoved the Anisthetae charm, but under the current circumstances I thinkit best you know exactly how you came to be in your current condition.'
'Professor Dumbledore, there's absolutely no way I can be pregnant!'Hermione stormed. 'And if I am, you'd bloody well better call theVatican!'
'Hermione.' The Headmaster's calm voice reached her, deflating herannoyance and calming the part of her normally quick-leaping brain thatrefused to add together the clues he'd given her. 'I want you to thinkback to the end of October. Tell me what you remember.'
She repressed the urge to huff, and thought back two months earlier. MyNana Bren died. My mother insisted I come home for the funeral.'
'Ah, yes. Brenda Carver. Your mother's godmother, correct?'
'Yes. Mum was very upset; she and Nana Bren were very close, especiallyafter my grandmother passed away.'
'I see. And how did Mrs. Carver die?'
Hermione frowned. 'Heart failure, I believe. She was well over eighty.'
'A ripe and venerable age, for one not born a wizard. And after thefuneral?'
With determined patience, Hermione outlined how she had dealt her mother'sgrief, causing her to miss three full days of school as well as theweekend. As she finished, she told him how her mother had dropped her offat the Leaky Cauldron and hugged her several times before finally allowingher to pinch a bit of Floo powder out of the cracked china bowl Tom kept onthe mantle of his fireplace.
'I remember I was a bit cross with Mother because she was going to make melate for the Halloween feast if she kept on crying on me. She was beingever so brave, and I knew she was missing Nana Bren something awful, but Ihad some assignments that were going to be late as it was.'
'And then?' prompted Dumbledore.
'Then what?' Hermione shrugged. 'I Floo'ed to the Three Broomsticks andcame back to the school.'
'How was the Halloween Feast?' he asked mildly.
'It was...' the word 'fine' trembled on the tip of her tongue. It refusedto come out, because she was suddenly uncertain. 'I don't.... I don'tremember.' Trembling, she pushed her wild, springy hair back behind herear. 'I said hullo to Madame Rosemerta, and I pinned my Head Girl badge onthe outside of my cloak. And I remember I put a levitation spell on mybag, because Mum had insisted on buying me some things and it was reallyheavy, and then... and then...'
'And then it was Monday,' supplied Dumbledore.
'Yes,' whispered Hermione. She swallowed hard, desperately searching hermemories. Nothing came to light. 'What happened, Professor?' she asked ina terrified whisper. 'Did something happen to me?'
'To my great sorrow, yes, my dear.'
Madame Pomfrey bustled up at that moment, giving Hermione a moment tocompose herself. Both anxious to know the truth, yet terrified of whatmight be revealed, she paid only scant attention as the nurse showed aparchment to Dumbledore.
'You see, right here. I always make a note of these kind of things, Albus,you know that. Right there, the fifteenth day of October.'
Hermione dredged through her memory again and blushed. 'Oh. That.'
Dumbledore looked over his small, round glasses at her. 'It says here,Miss Granger, that you requested, and received, a Contraceptus potion.'His voice held no accusation, only dry interest in her answer.
'Well, yes. I did ask.'
'And Madame Pomfrey gave it to you?'
'Yes, sir.' Her cheeks were turning bright red, but she held her head uphigh. She was eighteen, well over the age of consent and a full adult inthe wizarding world. She had a perfect right to have sex, and whether ornot she chose to exercise that right was none of Dumbledore's business.
'But I suspect you did not take the potion. Is that correct, MissGranger?'
'No, sir.'
'Why ever not?' demanded Madame Pomfrey. 'If you had, you might not be inthis mess!'
'I'm not in this mess!' Hermione snapped. 'I didn't take the potionbecause the bottle broke when I threw it at... him.' She'd nearly saidRon's name, but refrained at the last moment. 'We had a terrible row, andthen we had a long talk,' she added, more calmly. 'We decided we werebetter suited as friends than lovers.' How she managed to say that wordout loud without stammering, she'd never know, but continued, 'and then itdidn't matter that I'd spilled the potion, because I didn't need it.'
'Will you give us a moment, please, Poppy?' The nurse was used toDumbledore's excluding her from many things, but she took it with no bettergrace than she ever had. With a sniff, she excused herself and went to heroffice, where she closed her door, not with a slam, but with an emphaticclick that left no doubt as to her opinion of the proceedings.
Dumbledore mutely handed her the parchment with her history on it. At thetop, it mentioned her first visit to the hospital wing, for some minorailment her first year. Her admittance after her disastrous experimentwith Poly Juice, then the basilisk petrifaction episode. One afteranother, her every dealing with Madame Pomfrey was outlined, from minorincidents to major catastrophes. Quickly, she skipped down to the end,where the crisp script began with October 31st.
'Patient brought to hospital wing by Hogsmeade constable Randy Blightwell.Assaulted by Deatheaters as per Severus Snape, also admitted to hospitalwing. Injuries are as follows: Broken collarbone, three loose teeth,split lip, blackened eye (left), various other minor scrapes. Sexuallyassaulted, with vaginal bleeding and bruising. Previous administration ofContraceptus potion confirmed, see above...'
Unable to read further, Hermione dropped the parchment to the floor andbolted for the window. She shoved the heavy metal frame open and leanedout, breathing in deep draughts of the cold December air to counteract thegreasy feeling in her stomach.
'You have had no other romances since you and Mr. Weasley parted ways?'Dumbledore asked mildly, almost sadly. Hermione shook her head, fighting asudden surge of nausea and the chaos that came when her logical mind triedto match up the square peg of sexual assault with the round hole ofpregnancy. The two refused to mesh, leaving her thoughts a confused jumbleand her stomach doubly so. She could not seem to get enough air.
Dumbledore waited patiently until her breathing evened out, then addressedher back, as though he knew she could not bear to turn around and faceanyone at that moment.
I owe you a great apology, Miss Granger. Events of that evening were...extremely dramatic, and I regret that I acted with haste. I in no waytrivialize what happened to you, but a life hung in the balance that night.I must confess I took an easier avenue that was proper or prudent, andcast the anisthetae on you so that I might turn my attention to what I feltwas a more pressing emergency.'
Hermione's thoughts latched onto the one thing that had nothing to do withherself. 'Professor... Professor Snape. Was he hurt?'
'Yes,' answered Dumbledore heavily. From his tone, she knew it wasserious.
'He's not on sabbatical, is he?' she stated. Nearly every other Gryffindorhad been wildly elated when the Potions Master had abruptly gone onsabbatical two months ago, yet she, Harry, and Ron had tempered theircelebration with the faintest concern over the turncoat's well-being.Events of the last few years while dealing with the ever-growing threat ofwar had given them a certain degree of respect for the absent Potionsinstructor, regardless of how unpleasant he was as a teacher. Now, itseemed their concern was well placed.
'No, my dear, he is not. He was gravely injured and close to death when hewas brought here that night. It was a very near thing.'
Hermione opened her mouth again, as more and more questions came crowdinginto her mind, but Dumbledore held up a cautioning hand.
'I know you have many questions, Miss Granger. I can only beg yourforgiveness that I cannot answer them all for you now. Cornelius Fudge isexpecting me in his office in an hour, and from there I am due to address agroup at the ministry in yet another attempt... never mind, Miss Granger.It is not your concern at this moment, and you have much else to thinkabout.'
He rose from his seat and regarded her steadily. 'I will return toHogwarts in two days, Hermione. Come to my office then, and I will holdnothing back from you. You may be excused from classes, if you wish. No?'he questioned, when she shook her head, then tilted his own to one side inacquiescence. 'As you will, my dear. I beg you will excuse me, andperhaps, some day, forgive me for this deception. Until Saturday, then.'
Automatically Hermione bid the headmaster good day, then gathered herthings and left. She wandered blankly to Potions class, where thesubstitute instructor Professor Cluny accepted without question herresponse that she'd gone to see Madame Pomfrey and bade her get hercauldron and supplies. She mechanically created the potion - one Snape hadtaught them while they were fifth years, and only Neville had anydifficulty with - while her numb thoughts chased each other around withoutarriving at any recognizable conclusion.
In a single burst of clear thought, she flipped through her Potionstextbook to look up the Contraceptus potion. It was listed without arecipe, merely referred to in context to another, but the book clearlystated that both would last for several months in the bottle, and wouldmaintain their effects in the body for more than a month.
Which meant that if she'd taken the potion when Madame Pomfrey had given itto her, she could not have gotten pregnant for over a month. Try as shemight, she could bring no further memories up than the afternoon she hadarrived at the Three Broomsticks. The badge, the short-lasting levitationcharm, the door to the pub as she'd waved goodbye to the cheerful owner...then nothing. Her next clear memory was eating breakfast on a Monday,worried about an assignment she'd had to hurry to complete, wondering ifshe still had time to add some more notes.
By that evening, Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room, but herthoughts were grinding around in the same rut, finding no further memoriesor traces to follow. The fire crackled merrily in the grate as she staredblankly at it, and it was not until someone poked her hard that shestartled and came back to the present.
'Oi. Hermione. You finished that assignment yet? Hermione?' Harry'sglasses reflected the firelight as he grinned cheerfully at her. Sheglanced down at the three sentences she'd managed to write in the lasthour.
'No. No, I haven't.'
'I don't believe this. I've actually finished my homework before HermioneGranger. A day for the record books, this is!' Ron, still crouched overhis parchment at a nearby table, shot Harry a dirty look and went back toscowling at his own work.
'So what's up, Herm? Bad day?' Harry plopped on the sofa next to her.His expression was open and helpful, full of cheer, and Hermione could noteven open her mouth to express just how bad her day had been.
Harry Potter had changed dramatically from the scrawny boy she'd first meton the Hogwarts Express seven years ago. He was nearly as tall as Ron,now, but still reed-thin. His chest had broadened a bit over the last twoyears, and the muscles of a fanatical Quidditch player wrapped his bones,giving him a deceptive strength. The death of Cedric Diggory had focusedhim somehow, flaking off perhaps more of his childhood, and he had spentthe last three years digging into the study of magic with a vengeance. Hisconcentration and sense of purpose had sharpened to the point that hismarks in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions had rivaled Hermione's.He couldn't care less about several of his other classes, and his gradesreflected that, but anything that might be brought to bear againstVoldemort was worthy of his intense study.
Somewhere in the last year, nearly everyone around him had accepted withoutquestion the fact that Harry Potter and Voldemort would meet in a finalconfrontation to either save or condemn the world. It was no longer aquestion subject to debate. It simply was, and the staff at Hogwarts didtheir best to prepare him for a battle whose outcome was by no meanscertain.
In the meantime, however, Harry was still a seventeen-year-old boy, andeven though he was her best friend, there was no way Hermione could openher mouth and tell him what that day had revealed to her. She simplystared at him, her lip trembling.
It may have been his sympathetic expression, or he might have put his armaround her shoulders first, but she suddenly found her face pressed intohis wiry shoulder as silent sobs racked her body. Harry patted her backawkwardly.
'Hey, Hermione. It's okay. It can't be that bad, really!'
She only shook her head, and left it buried in Harry's green sweater. Shedid not see him shoot a questioning look over to Ron, and mouth, 'What iswrong with her?'
Ron shrugged violently. 'How should I know?' he mouthed back, just asmystified by their friend's sudden reversion to being a girl, rather thanthe sensible, unflappable friend they knew.