Step to the dark

by Smoochy

22-year old Hermione is sent back to 1977 and has to become a DADA teacher for some time. It's the story of love and hate, loyalty and betrayal, friendship and enmity and the choices we have to make. SBxHGxRL

1. Radical changes

Step to the dark.

By Smoochy.

Well hello, my dear readers!

I've been wanting to write a time travel fic for a long time now and finally I decided to start doing it, but, really, I have three unfinished stories hanging on me and God knows I wish I could finish them but… oh well. I think I need some changes now, so here's the story. :D

So, the story will be Remus x Hermione x Sirius triangle and it doesn't mean she will be sleeping with both of them at the same time, it means there will be lots of drama and angst and all the other heart wrenching stuff we all like. Which one of them she'll choose in the end I'm not telling you for the sake of keeping the plot more interesting, so don't look at the story pairing above, it doesn't mean anything. I do hope this particular story won't be a typical time travel story and I try my best to make it more interesting and unique so Hermione won't be one of the students but an actual teacher. I know there's already a lot of similar stuff, but it's still fun for me to write so you might as well enjoy reading it :)

And the last – English IS NOT my native languages so please bear with me and all of my grammar and punctuation mistakes, I don't have a beta yet, but I do hope I'll find one some time in nearest future, so if there's anyone interested in beta'ing – please, say so in comments or PM.

That's all now, don't worry – next A/N will be way shorter :D

Title: Step to the dark

Author: Smoochy

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from J. Rowling's books

Pairing: Sirius/Hermione/Remus

Summary: 22-year old Hermione is sent back to 1977 and has to become a DADA teacher for some time. It's the story of love and hate, loyalty and betrayal, friendship and enmity and the choices we have to make. SBxHGxRL

Chapter 1. Radical Changes.

"Ron, you do remember you promised to take me to the theatre, do you?" Hermione questioned her husband, who was sprawled on the coach, reading.

"Weeell" Ron drawled and grimaced, glancing at her over the Daily Prophet, his tone making it extremely clear what exactly he thinks of the idea. "If you want it so much…" he trailed off uncertainly, his gaze returning to the newspaper once again.

Turning his back to him and facing the window, Hermione stopped washing the dishes and froze, for a brief moment closing her stinging eyes and hanging her head. Suddenly, there was a lump in her throat and her breathing became fast and shallow. She sighed deeply, her hands covering her face and pressing hard on her eyes until she saw stars but it still didn't prevent the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes. Distantly, she wondered how she had got to that point in her life.

She was twenty-two. She was young, smart and ambitious. When she was fifteen she decided to make a plan for her life and wrote a list of things she'd like to do at the exact age, like marrying at twenty-five to the man she truly loved with all her heart and who loved her back just the same, or having a first child at twenty-six, once she's steady and stable in her life and after a year or two she'd have the second child. Now, she smirked bitterly at the foolishness of the whole idea. Right they say that if you want to make God laugh - tell him about your plans. She did understand that statement in all its sad irony now.

She married Ron when she was seventeen, right after they graduated, and not because Hermione felt undying love for the red-head but because they were afraid they wouldn't have time in their forlorn future, wouldn't have time later because the war was going on and people kept dying, man after man, and after the day Harry died it all lost sense.

They did win the war, though. Voldemort did die, once and for all. But so did Harry, Dumbledore, Neville, Luna, Lupin, Tonks, Molly, Arthur, Bill and Percy and the twins and another half hundred people Hermione loved and cared for.

Isn't it funny that people consider her, Ron and Ginny to be the lucky ones who made it through the Great War II?

Indeed, the war was over. But she lost too much to really appreciate it and live an actual life.

They say traumas like that don't go away without leaving a trace. People with such traumas rarely live a normal life after them.

But nevertheless, Hermione tried her best to leave the past behind. She found herself a job in the Ministry - an Auror along with Ginny; she bought an apartment so she and Ron would be able to start a new life in the new place.

And here she was, living quite a pointless life with an indifferent husband like a dead weight on her shoulders, with a work implying tons of papers which needed to be filled and once in three-four months a Death Eater insurrection which needed to be put down.

In desperate attempts to vary her disgustingly boring dim life she attempted such arrangements for Ron and Ginny as going to the muggle theatre or cinema or somewhere else to relax and have fun. Usually it took her quite a time to shake Ron or Ginny up, to break their wall which they so happily built around themselves and until today Hermione – with great effort, yes, but still – succeeded in that.

Today it infuriated her within an inch of her life. Suddenly she felt like lying on the floor and crying, hard and loudly, until all the tears and strength left her. She shook her head violently and bit her lip hard enough to draw blood there immediately.

"You know what, Ronald" she hissed, narrowing her eyes and shaking an accusing finger at her husband who merely stared at her with confusion on his face. "I've had enough of this! I can't be that way anymore!" She didn't notice her voice raise an octave higher as she suddenly felt the lack of oxygen in her lungs. "You can sit in that shell of yours all you want and do whatever you want! You want to spend each of your free minute on that bloody coach until you've developed a spine disease – go ahead! I've had enough!" She repeated, slamming her fist on the kitchen counter for emphasis.

Ron looked dumbfounded. "Look, Hermione, calm down –" He began, raising a finger but she didn't want to hear. Fuming, she crossed the room hurriedly, grabbing her coat, and left their small apartment, closing the door quietly after herself as she believed that slamming was left for some drama queens from the cheap soap shows.

She's had enough of Ron's unwillingness to actually do something, to try and make things better and God knows she did all her best. Something just broke in her today. Probably another stupid hope that they would get back to the way things were.

But, sadly enough, there was no going back.

This she knew for sure. And what she also knew rather well was that she did need some changes. Radical changes. She didn't want them, she needed them, for the sake of her sanity, otherwise, she was pretty sure, she'd end up in St Mungo's department for lunatics.

She walked along the streets of London, not really seeing where she was going, just away from Ron, absentmindedly rubbing her Auror bracelet on her left hand. God, how much tired she was!

She shuddered and wrapped herself tighter in her coat as the cold wind blew in her face. Despite of the fact that it was the middle of June the weather was truly cold even for London. Somehow she remembered hearing that the whole week was to be rather rainy and moody. And, by the way, what day was it? Tuesday or Wednesday?

Hermione stopped abruptly as she looked up and saw the familiar place she wasn't really heading to but ended up anyway: Leaky Cauldron. Looking around nervously, feeling like she was about to do something illegal, Hermione entered the pub.

Everything was exactly the same as she remembered it to be last time she was in here almost four years ago. She didn't really have a necessity to visit this place so she chose to ignore it, and now, seeing the people around, smelling the usual for the place smell of cinnamon, old paper and magic she felt somewhat nostalgic, like she was watching an album with old photographs, where all her friends were still alive and no war was going on. She swallowed the bile in her mouth and rubbed her eyes one more time. They were wet and but tears just didn't fall.

She wouldn't think about that, not now and, preferably, not ever.

She began to make her way to one of the tables when suddenly there was a flash of light to her left and turning around, Hermione saw a shining form of a dog, a Patronus, she guessed, which appeared right in front of a middle-aged woman with short curly hair, sitting by the table and slowly sipping whatever drink she had in her cup. Patronus opened its mouth and spoke with a voice of a rather panicked man.

"Charlotte, there's a Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade! Maggie is one of the kids!! Get there AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, will be needed any help!!"

Two seconds later, Hermione's bracelet burned her hand, catching her completely off-guard. The pub, rather quite just a moment ago, was now a mess of people, running around and shouting, trying to outvoice each other and inform anybody around that their children were in Hogsmeade at the moment.

It took Hermione few more seconds to shook herself out of shock and begin moving. Dear God! Not Hogsmeade again, not children! Please, let her be in time, please, she has to stop that, now!

She ran to the fireplace with as much speed as she could manage but to her immense irritation which bordered with rage Hermione found no floo powder. She cursed loudly, looking around quickly, trying to see anything that looked like powder, furious about having to waste her time on such things as that when she had to get to Hogwarts right now, because each second can coast a life to a child –

Finally, and rather suddenly, there was a pot with floo powder right under her nose and Hermione noticed a hand that was shoving the thing to her face. She turned to the side quickly, trying to see a man who was helping her but the person was wearing a hood which completely covered his face and any other day Hermione would get suspicious of such a figure walking around the streets like that but now she didn't have any time so she just grabbed the handful of the powder without a word. The powder was unusually dark, almost black, too black for a powder which supposed to be grey but Hermione didn't pay attention to it anyway, she just threw the powder to a fireplace shouting the words 'Hogwarts, headmaster's office' and distantly thinking about the only safe times at the school she stepped into the emerald flames, not looking back once.

The fact that Hermione didn't specify anything about the Hogwarts floo network condition occurred to her somewhere in the middle of the flight. After all, the headmistress could not have the time to open the fireplace yet and then Hermione would waste another load of time she was supposed to spend fighting Death Eaters.

It all came to her in that split second when her body was transformed to thousand miles away and Hermione didn't really have the time just to worry enough about the problem.

However, she didn't have to. The next moment she was threw out of the fireplace, sending the powder flying in all directions and nearly falling off her feet. Some of it even managed to get Hermione in the mouth, making her cough violently, tears appearing in her eyes. Once she recovered, she allowed herself to look around hurriedly and one glance was enough to understand she was in Dumbledore's office, after all, McGonagall hasn't changed anything here since the old wizard's death.

"Come on, do sit down, Miss, you must be a candidate for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, am I right?" Hermione heard a familiar voice to her right and turned to see Professor McGonagall looking at her with an expectant expression on her face.

Hermione frowned. "Professor McGonagall, sorry I'm late, I need to get to Hogsmeade now, did the other Aurors get there already?" She asked hastily, pulling out her wand and squeezing it hard in her hand. McGonagall now wore a clearly confused expression.

"Hogsmeade? Aurors? I'm sorry, and you would be…?" She asked Hermione in a rather cool voice, looking at her with a studying look.

Hermione stared. What was going on here? Was something wrong with her appearance that professor didn't recognize her? And what about the DADA teacher position? Hermione looked down at herself nervously but everything seemed to be alright except for the few powder stains on her coat. What was going on then, she silently questioned once again.

"Professor, don't you recognize me?" Hermione said slowly and cautiously, now really dreading the answer. She swallowed, watching the old lady furrowed her brow even more.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe I know you, Miss…" She said dryly, her tone encouraging Hermione to fill in her name.

She kept silent, too confused to say anything. The professor now seemed rather uncomfortable.

"Look, Miss, if you are here not to discuss the open vacation, I believe professor Dumbledore might help you. He'll be here in a moment"

Now Hermione felt her jaw dropped but she couldn't really do anything about that. Was she hearing things or did McGonagall just say 'Dumbledore'? What was bloody going on in here?! Why has McGonagall just mentioned far long dead Headmaster in a way as if he was alive?! Why was –

"Good morning, Minerva" said a too familiar voice behind her and Hermione knew its owner without having to turn around.

Dumbledore.

She froze, the hair on her arms standing up with goose bumps and a clot appearing in her throat. "Or should I say evening? Time flies incredibly fast, my dear, seems like only five minutes ago I walked down for breakfast to the Great Hall and it's already getting dark outside"

His voice hasn't changed at all. Same pleasant, kind voice of an old man, filled with humor and knowing and those barely tangible sparkles. The voice that can belong only to Dumbledore.

But it's not possible! He's dead, for five years now, we all know he's dead! He can't be here now, after all these years I've been thinking he's dead… he simply can't!

But Hermione didn't listen to what her mind was screaming to her. Slowly, as all her limbs suddenly went numb with shock, fear and at the same time hope and joy at seeing the wizard again, she turned around.

And there he was. Tall and lean, his white silver beard long enough to reach his knees, the same half-mooned spectacles and brilliant blue eyes with dancing twinkles in them. Real Dumbledore.

Alive Dumbledore.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat, desperately trying to hold back the tears that already gathered in the corners of her eyes, and her heart skipped several beats before pounding painfully in her chest, her breathing suddenly getting shallow and unsteady. Apparently, her emotions displayed on her face because Dumbledore said politely "Can you, please, leave us for a while, Minnie?"

McGonagall didn't seem too pleased but she nodded nonetheless and hastily walked out of the office. Hermione was left alone with the suddenly-back-from-dead former headmaster.

"Now, my dear lady, I believe you should tell me your name?" Dumbledore finally said after the long silence.

Hermione exhaled loudly. "Professor… It's me… Hermione… Hermione Granger" she stammered faintly, now really wondering if it all was some kind of a weird dream.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, walked to his table and sat in his throne-looking chair.

"Don't you… Don't you recognize me?" She asked him wearily, sick of not understanding what the hell was going on around her.

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I don't believe we've ever met before" the old wizard said, looking at Hermione over his glasses. "Lemon drop?" he offered, throwing one in his mouth and holding to her a vase of drops.

She shook her head absent-mindedly. Why couldn't he recognize her? Why was he alive at the first place?! Has she gone mad? Was she seeing things?

God, she needed to calm down.

Dazed, she nearly fell into the chair opposite Dumbledore, her heart still racing in her chest. And then her gaze shifted to the folded Daily Prophet copy lying on the table. But, something caught her attention to it, something wrong –

'Minister Forman declared…'

Minister Forman?! But Alexy Forman was the minister of magic way long before the Fudge, almost thirty years ago –

Her eyes drifted to the date on the top of the page.

'Daily Prophet, copy of 08.16.77'

Oh God…

She stared at the Headmaster as it all suddenly made perfect sense – that they didn't recognize her, alive Dumbledore, Minister Forman… Dumbledore by no means could know her. Because in this time she wasn't born yet.

Because, if she was not mistaken, it was the sixteenth of August, year 1977.

She stared right in Dumbledore's eyes and suddenly she felt his presence in her consciousness, the power of his Legilimens skills breaking all of her protection walls at once. Though, he had to give her that, she was way too shocked and stunned by her latest realization to set up a real block. So she simply didn't hesitate and let him seek in her memories and thoughts, after all, it would save her a lot of time explaining…

She saw fragments of her own memories flashing before her eyes, faces of Harry, Ron, her parents, Weasley family and another people she knew, muffled voices in her ears that went with the memories.

'Hermione, keep that damn cat away from Scubbers!-'

'Dumbledore's dead. Snape killed him'

'It's Death Eaters! They attacked Hogwarts-'

'Imperio'

No!

Dumbledore left her mind sharply and Hermione found herself trembling in the chair as the most dreadful, painful memory overcame her. Memory she wished so dearly she could just erase as it was killing her slowly, day after day, turning her inside out, and cutting her to shreds with guilt and pain. The memory she couldn't escape from no matter how hard she tried.

"Well, I see now, my dear" Dumbledore sighed heavily in from of her, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his crooked nose. "Not quiet the future I hoped it to be"

Hermione kept silent, the memory she just saw still too vivid in her mind. She breathed in and out slowly, calming herself down. She didn't need to fall into hysterics now, what she did need was to collect herself and find a way out of the current problem with the help of Dumbledore, so she furiously wiped away the tears and concentrated on the man across the table.

"Rather ticklish situation we got here, Miss Granger" he sighed again, his voice sounding sad and tired. "And I daresay dangerous" He looked her in the eyes with his penetrating stare of electric blue eyes.

"Sir, do you know a way to get me back to my time?" Hermione asked, regaining her composure and straightening herself in the chair.

"I'm afraid, my girl" Dumbledore sighed once again, suddenly looking very old, much older than only seconds ago. "That your future might not exist anymore"

Hermione felt her face go pale. Of course. What else could she expect? Things just wouldn't work for her anymore, not ever again, not after –

"See" Dumbledore interrupted her chaotic thoughts "As you may already know, there're two main theories about Time" he began, his voice now sounding a little firmer. "The first one is short and simple: what happened – happened. What already happened was meant to be, so we don't really have to worry about doing something wrong because we've already done it" the corners of his lips twitched upwards. "This theory presumes that everything was meant to happen, so we can't really change anything as much as we'd like to"

"So it would mean that whatever I do or say can't really change anything because it was already done or said?" Hermione asked, biting her lower lip in concentration, because this was not her listening to the McGonagall giving her instructions about the Timeturner. This was real problem which needed to be solved as soon as possible, no matter how much she liked to see the dead headmaster again.

"Yes and no" he answered evasively. "Yes, according to the first theory and no, according to the second one" He paused again to take one more lemon drop in his mouth. Hermione waited patiently for continuation. "So here we have the second theory of Time, Miss Granger. Actually, it goes after our precious Ray Bradbury; I suppose you've heard of this man?" He questioned her. Hermione nodded and he continued. "It was not exactly his theory, but his certain story does explain it best of all – 'A sound of a thunder' it's called"

She knew, of course, this story – she read it at the age of thirteen and was really impressed by it for some reason. Something there, the way Bradbury wrote it, got to her heart, making her feel mixed emotions – fear, excitement, anticipation. She read the story the summer after her second year at Hogwarts.

A month later McGonagall gave her a Timeturner.

"As you can remember" the wizard continued after a small pause "the main character was sent back in time to the epoch of dinosaurs and he accidently stepped on a butterfly and killed it. Then he got back to his time only to find his world absolutely altered and all this changes caused such an insignificant, as it seems, thing as a butterfly" Dumbledore kept silent for emphasis, once again shooting her the soul penetrating look. "And therefore, I must say, my dear girl, that according to this idea, your presence here itself has already changed your whole future" he finished quietly.

Hermione covered her face with her hands wearily.

"And which one of these theories is the true one?" she rasped.

"Unfortunately, there's no way of knowing it" Dumbledore said with a sad smile and Hermione shifted uneasily.

"So what do you suggest, professor?" She asked him faintly, suddenly feeling like ducking her head on the table and just falling asleep there, preferably forever.

"I, of course, will research the way – any way – to return you back to your own time, but you do need to tell me first what you remember last before you ended up here"

Hermione told him in detail about the last several minutes in London, excluding her fight with Ron, of course. She did, though, make an accent on the strange man with the strange black floo powder which apparently sent her twenty six years to the past.

"Hmm" Dumbledore mused thoughtfully, rubbing his beard offhandedly "Naturally, naturally…" he muttered, closing his eyes as if trying to remember something. Hermione frowned, as Dumbledore obviously knew something useful. "Time Dust" he finally said, opening his eyes and staring at her with his piercing gaze.

"But, professor! This thing is really rare, almost impossible to find for the last… fifty years or so!" Hermione exclaimed, frowning, as she wondered where the hooded stranger could possibly get the Dust.

"Yes, my dear, you are very right" Dumbledore agreed, nodding slightly. "As you probably know, more than thirty years ago witches and wizards used the Time Dust to get through the time as it allowed traveling through rather long periods of time with no limits. Our usual Timeturner can't get you back for more than twenty four hours and you are forced to live that time again, while the Dust is able to get you in the future as well. However, this thing was proclaimed to be illegal thirty years ago" the wizard sighed heavily and a sad smile twitched his lips. "People were always too eager to control everything. But tell me, Miss Granger, if a man can't control his own life how can he possibly control something as twisted and dangerous as Time? Of course, the Dust wasn't completely erased. There still were such desperate people who were ready to offer anything in exchange for a handful of it, however with years passing by it was becoming more and more difficult to find someone who still possessed it. Nowadays there're only few people who can offer you this artifact" He paused meaningfully, still chewing on his candy. "And one of them is me" he finished quietly.

Hermione knew he was leading to this. Of course. How could he not have it? He's the great Albus Dumbledore, after all, he had everything and knew everything.

At least, she wanted to believe so.

But could it mean that somehow it was him who had given her the Dust in the Leaky Cauldron several minutes ago (or, more correctly, twenty six years in the future)? Could it somehow be that Dumbledore himself had gone through time to send her back to the beginning?

But this Dumbledore hasn't done it.

Yet.

He seemed to have read her mind or, apparently, her thoughts displayed on her face because he said "I know what you might be thinking, Miss Granger, and it only makes our situation more complicated, unfortunately"

"So what can I do to help you, sir?" Hermione asked hesitantly, eager to do anything to hasten the process. Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"Why, you can make research in the library, of course" He said, taking another candy in his mouth and Hermione began to wonder how he could possibly live to such an age with that level of sugar in his blood. "And you haven't told me yet from what year exactly did you come, my dear"

"2003. I'm twenty-two" Hermione answered honestly and Dumbledore seemed thoughtful for a moment.

"We can do this: you'll be staying in Hogwarts for now, using the library and not worrying about a place to stay. But if you're not returned to your time until September then I suggest you stay here as a teacher"

He said it with his knowing voice, twinkles back in his eyes, and his tone made it absolutely clear that all of it was already decided without her participation.

She should've been exasperated, but, really, how could she if he was alive?

So she just nodded.

"Do you… Do you want to know anything else?" She asked him quietly, her voice sounding too painful even to her own ears. He shook his head.

"What I've seen is enough" he said softly. "I'm only disappointed that everything turned out as I was dreading it would"

For some reason (and she knew the reason deep inside) she felt incredibly guilty. For not vindicating his expectations. For failing him. Failing everybody.

It was all her fault.

Neville and Luna.

Only her fault.

She should be dead instead of them.

She got up abruptly and shook her head violently, forcing herself not to think about it, trying to will these thoughts and memories away from her mind. Dumbledore, across the table, was eyeing her sadly.

"I believe you have enough of experience, my dear, to teach those students everything they need to know, am I right?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes stinging and her heart beating painfully in her ears.

"I hope so" She tried to say but her voice came out rather like a whisper and she cleared her throat loudly and repeated in a more steady voice "I hope so, professor"

"Wonderful then!" Dumbledore exclaimed joyfully, clapping his hands excitedly and the image of a wise aged man was washed away immediately. "I should inform Minerva then that we have our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

"But it would be so only in case we won't find the way to get me back to my world, and that will be two weeks" Hermione reminded him weakly, having a very strong presentiment that she won't be back anytime soon. She sighed, rubbing her eyes.

"I believe, you should have a rest now, Professor Granger" Dumbledore grinned at her, winking and she suppressed a giggle. She blamed her tiredness. "Minerva will show you your apartment"

She nodded and headed to the door. Bloody time travel. It was the middle of June in her time, now she missed all the July as well, appearing here in the middle of bloody August!

She didn't even have strength to be surprised at her own language. Again, she blamed her tiredness.

And only when she was at the door already, the realization hit her. It was 1977. She completely forgot about –

"Marauders will be in their seventh year, right?" she asked, a bit panicked at the prospect of teaching Harry's father and mother, along with Harry's Godfather-convict Sirius Black, her ex-professor-werewolf Remus Lupin and rat-traitor Peter Pettigrew. And, oh dear god…

She will see Sirius and Lupin again.

And they will be young, chaste and alive. They all will be alive.

The thought itself made her stomach jump. Heaven help her, how will she handle this? How will she see them, talk to them, knowing that once she'd be back to future, none of them will be there? It will be like she'd loose them once again.

"Yes, my girl, they will. Is it a problem for you?" he asked her gently.

She thought about it. She will get a chance to know them, really know them, to see them young and healthy and joyful, not burdened with upcoming war and deaths of their friends…

To once have and loose is better than not having at all.

Oh well. Merlin will help her.

"No" She said firmly. "No, that won't be a problem"

"Good!" Dumbledore smiled once again. "Very good, my dear!"

"Professor, what about my appearance? I believe I should make some differences, shouldn't I?"

"You are indeed right" the headmaster agreed. "I'll tell only Minerva about our little predicament, so you won't need to avoid her. And we need to think about a good distant place where you came from so no one too curious will be able to make a proper research about you"

She thought for a moment, recalling any appropriate place. "How about Russia?" She suggested with a smile, flicking her fingers for emphasis. "Remote enough, we can say that I had to live there for a long time and had my Auror training there. God knows those people do train hard" She added, remembering herself reading about Russian Ministry system.

"And your name will be…?" Dumbledore encouraged her to think of the alias.

"Hmm" She paused, biting her lip thoughtfully. Her first name will be Jane, slightly altered version of her middle name 'Jean' and as for the last name…

"Jane Depp" She smirked, unable to resist. What could she say – she liked that Pirates movie with this actor she watched with Ron and Ginny this year. But it was proper, right? He was Muggle so no one would know his name here and it was seventies, he wasn't even popular yet. And if you say Jenny Depp it would sound almost like Johnn –

"That's settled then" Dumbledore interrupted her thoughts, nodding. "As to your appearance: your most discriminating trait is your hair, so you should change its color and style, then change your eyes color and may be do some insignificant changes with your whole face traits – sharpen them or vice versa, as you'd like"

She nodded and yawned suddenly, noticing that it has already darkened outside. Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at her.

"Everything will be all right" he said softly, and oh how she wanted to believe it. Then he added archly "Good night… Professor Depp"

She smiled through another yawn. Professor Depp. Jane Depp.

Oh well.

She needed radical changes, right? That certainly could be called changes.

And they certainly could be called radical.

Well, that's the first chapter. I worked my ass with this one but I think next ones will be much easier to write but anyway, please, do leave a review about what you think of this.

Can't promise anything about the regular updates but if you give me a feedback I'll try to post somewhere next week ;D

Love, Smoochy.