Author's Note: This marks my new story! This has absolutely no relation whatsoever to GD, and I will put GD a priority to this one. There are very little similarities between this one and GD (though Hermione and Tom both appear, so no worries.) so if you're sick of GD already, feel free to read this one.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights go to JK Rowling.
The ground was cold against her cheek, and her clothes were stained with water. She didn't know where she was, and sat up, disheveled. Blinking slightly to clear her vision, she looked around for any sign of movement, but found none. It was all a vast empty space of nothing. She discovered how cold it was, and wrapped her arms around herself instinctively, as if that could put a stop to her shivering.
She discovered that she was sitting on a field, which was slightly damp. There was a castle in front of her, and it was illuminated brightly, making her eyes hurt when she looked at it. Next to it, a dark and gloomy forest lay, and she thought she saw something move in it. It was gone as soon as it came, giving her no time to attempt to figure out what it was. She tore her eyes from the rows of trees and then glanced back at the castle. It was oddly familiar, though she couldn't quite remember where she had seen it before.
In fact, this whole place seemed quite familiar…
"Excuse me, Miss?"
She screamed and whirled around, shielding herself behind her hands, as if that could protect her. A man with a white beard looked at her with concern, and she was surprised to see no malice in his eyes. In fact, he was looking at her quite kindly. He held a stick in his hand, which was giving off light, while peering at her curiously. She lowered her hands slowly when he didn't immediately hurt her, but couldn't prevent herself from flinching backwards when the man advanced.
"I'm sorry if I startled you," the man said, putting some distance between himself and her to inform her that he didn't mean any harm. Hermione still eyed him warily, but she let herself relax a little. "My name is Professor Dumbledore, and I am the transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. I haven't seen you here before; are you new?"
She just blinked at him stupidly. "What's Hogwarts?"
Professor Dumbledore seemed to become genuinely confused, peering over his spectacles to look at her carefully. "You do not know what Hogwarts is, yet you still managed to get here?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know anything. I don't even know my name." She tried to recall what had happened, but all she could see was a big black block. It hurt her head when she tried to go further, so eventually she gave up.
Professor Dumbledore frowned, and then glanced down at her hand. "What do you have there?" She hadn't even noticed that there was a slip of paper tightly clutched in her fist. It was crumpled and slightly damp, but in better condition than she was. She pulled it out, and Professor Dumbledore motioned for it. She didn't know why she trusted him, but she did, and promptly put the slip of paper into his waiting hand.
She immediately regretted that decision. The frown on his face only intensified as he read down the paper. She wanted desperately to read it, but when he was finished, he placed it in his pocket, seeming to have no intention of letting her see it. Professor Dumbledore ignored her whimpers of protest and paced around, his face creased with worry.
He finally stopped after a couple of minutes, and then glanced back down at her. "Your name is Hermione Granger," he said finally. "You're seventeen years old. Born on September 19th, you are the daughter of two muggle dentists."
Hermione blinked. "Am I? I'm seventeen?" She looked down at her childish figure and made a face, and a bemused smile appeared on Professor Dumbledore's face. "Did it really say all of that on the note?" She did not know what muggle was either, but thought that this was not the time to ask.
"Yes." Professor Dumbledore said, though his face became troubled once again. She had a feeling there was something he wasn't telling her. Why he felt it was his responsibility to read a note that was meant for her, she did not know. And what irked her even more was that he felt he could hide some of the information from her. It was her life, not his.
However, she decided that the man in front of her seemed to only want to help her, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. She didn't think there was much about her previous life that was interesting enough to be top secret information, anyway.
The wind picked up slightly, and she shivered. Dumbledore seemed to realize for the first time that her clothes were tattered and ripped, and they were soaking wet. "Come on, Miss Granger," he held out his hand to help her up. "Let's get you changed in to something warmer, and then we can talk. We wouldn't want you to catch a cold."
Hermione agreed, wrapping her arms around her shivering body, and the two of them trudged towards the huge castle.
The situation was getting more and more strange. Dumbledore had handed her some clothes and let her change in the bathroom. When she came out, he was already sitting behind his desk, writing something down on a piece of paper. She felt it was rude to peer over his shoulder to see what he was writing, but she was curious as well.
The classroom itself seemed rather weird. There were items that seemed to have no relations to each other. There were teacups and needles, and there were even animals such as rodents. Hermione twitched slightly when one of the mice bared its teeth at her. The mouse didn't scare her; it merely took her by surprise.
"Please sit down, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore said, and she sat herself down opposite of him. In the light, she could see that he had blue eyes, though they were dark with worry, so it made them look almost grey. Hermione really wanted to know what the note said, but she figured it would be better if she didn't ask. She doubted she would be able to understand what it said, anyway. She didn't understand anything anymore.
"This is Hogwarts, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore began. "This is a school of magic. People who are here are magical, and they are called wizards and witches. They used wands to cast magic." He held up a piece of wood. "This is a wand. Do you recognize it?"
The only time she could remember seeing that was when Professor Dumbledore used it as a light source back when they were on the fields. Hermione shook her head.
"I didn't think so." Dumbledore sighed. He then held up the wand and demonstrated a few spells for her. Hermione was initially terrified when red sparks flew from the tip, but as time drew on, she grew increasingly fascinated by this wonderful item. It looked amazing. Something inside itched, wanting to feel the solid wood underneath her hands. By the end of his demonstration, she had wanted to try it and asked him if she could, but Dumbledore merely laughed and said it was for another day.
He then launched in to an explanation on how things worked at Hogwarts. It was awfully confusing, how to memorize which stairs moved and which hallways to steer clear of, but Hermione paid close attention not to miss anything. When Dumbledore mentioned that there was a library, she felt a spark within herself. Maybe her previous self had loved books. She would have been disappointed if she hadn't.
Dumbledore explained to her the classes that she could learn at Hogwarts, and gave her a brief explanation of each. He had also introduced her to the professors, though she had shrieked and jumped back when one of the professors in the pictures waved at her. Dumbledore had laughed and explained that pictures in the wizarding world could move. She accepted it as another weird thing about magic, but she tried to steer clear of the pictures for the rest of the evening. There was just something about living object inside a portrait that scared her.
"Which classes did you sign me up for?" Hermione inquired curiously. She didn't see any problem with any of the classes he told her about, but she didn't know if there was a limit to the number she could take. She wanted to take them all, but she had the intelligence of a kindergartener right now. She would study up in the library, but she didn't want to fail all her classes before she could catch up.
"All of them," he said, and Hermione didn't question him about that again. She could easily see from the look on his face that it had something to do with the content of the note. Hermione, however, wasn't complaining. She would just have to lose a couple nights of sleep to learn the material, and then she would do fine.
She would wait till he was gone from his room one day, and then she'd steal the note. Hermione felt bad about thinking this way, but she felt that it was her right to read it. After all, it mentioned so much about her life while Professor Dumbledore hadn't given any indication that it mentioned his at all.
"House points are awarded to those who behave," Dumbledore continued. "And they are deducted from students who cause trouble. We have four houses here: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. The goal is to work towards earning more points for your house so they can win the house cup at the end of the year. Points can be earned in a variety of ways. The easiest method would be to answer a question correctly in class."
Hermione nodded, quite fascinated with the system. She wondered if there was a cap to points she was allowed to earn as well. She would set a goal for herself; perhaps, one hundred in the first day? Or perhaps that would be too little. She would have to see if she could get to two hundred. Or maybe even three hundred, if she truly tried.
"There are prefects here to enforce the rules." Dumbledore said, though his face grew grave. Maybe there was someone in the system that he didn't like. "Fifth and sixth years are allowed to be picked to be prefects. The head of all prefects, however, are the Head Boy and Head Girl. They are two individuals who are in their seventh year who the school feels like are the best of their year. They have their own room." Hermione thought she saw a hint of annoyance in his expression, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "You, my dear, are in seventh year."
"Am I?" Disappointment crashed down on her. She had barely just gotten to this magical school, and already she was informed that this would be her last year? She only had a year to explore this place? What would she do afterwards? What could a person with no memory of her past do?
"Yes you are." Dumbledore said, and his face creased again. "You are also Hogwarts' new Head Girl." He looked at her cautiously, judging her reaction.
It took her a moment to register what he had said, and then her mouth dropped wide open. "I-I'm what?" She asked. "I just got here five minutes ago! I don't know how anything works! How can I be Head Girl?"
Dumbledore didn't answer her, and Hermione had to resist the strong urge to rip his drawers open just to look at that note. What on that note made her so important? How could a girl who had lost her memories suddenly be promoted in to Head Girl, one of the highest honors in this school?
"I can't be Head Girl," Hermione muttered to herself, shaking her head. The situation was getting more and more bizarre. All she wanted to do was become a regular student, blending in with everyone, while she tried to recover her memory. She did not want to stand out like this. "What's the date?"
"It is November third, Miss Granger."
"Then school has already started for awhile, hasn't it?" Dumbledore nodded. "There should already be a Head Girl. Why replace her with me? I'm sure there are many replacements that are more capable than me." She did not even know why the current Head Girl had to be removed. Was she doing a bad job? Or was this just because of the note?
Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but this is one issue that I cannot allow you to refuse. I have already sent Horace to inform Miss Longbottom to remove herself from her room. Your luggage has already been delivered there."
This was all going on without her consent, and Hermione felt bad for this girl, Longbottom, already. The girl, no matter what she was like, did not deserve this. She worked so hard for the position, and now it was immediately stripped from her. "You can't just kick someone out for me," she protested. "That's not right—"
Before she could finish her sentence, the door opened and another man strolled in. He looked as old as Dumbledore did, though he had a rather gullible expression on his face. Unlike Dumbledore, he had a cheerful grin on his face, not at all matching the tense atmosphere in the room. He shut the door and happily sat down in between the two of them, humming merrily.
"Hello, Albus!" The man greeted. His eyes swiveled to her. Hermione almost flinched; he seemed almost…too cheerful, like a doll. "And hello, girl Albus found on the fields!" Hermione merely blinked at his nickname for her. "I came here as soon as possible. Did I miss anything important?"
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "This is Professor Dippet. He is the headmaster here."
The headmaster? She had thought that title was Dumbledore's. If he wasn't the headmaster, then who gave him the right to make decisions as important as this? Why had she given him the note rather than to Dippet? However, on the outside, she smiled slightly at Dippet and bowed her head slightly. "Thank you for taking your time to come down here, Headmaster."
"No problem, it's my pleasure! It's always nice to have someone new join our wonderful school." Dippet turned to Dumbledore. "Now, Albus, would you mind filling me in?"
"Miss Granger has lost all her memories," Dumbledore informed him. "She arrived here with a note in her hand that vouched for her brilliant mind and her responsible image. I have decided to make her Head Girl."
Hermione knew for a fact that the note said much more than just that, and it irked her that Dumbledore could just lie so easily.
Hermione expected Dippet to interrupt and protest right away, but instead the old man just looked confused. "Isn't Augusta head girl?" He asked, a blank look on his face. "Or was that last year? There are just so many wonderful students I forget them all!"
He doesn't know? Hermione eyed Dippet incredulously, beaming as if it was something to be proud of. Some headmaster he is.
"Yes, though I feel under the circumstances, Miss Granger would be more suitable for the position."
Dippet, to Hermione's amazement, didn't ask to see the note. Nor did he question Dumbledore's judgment at all. Instead, he beamed and clapped his hands together and said, "Great! I see you have things under control already." He looked back at Hermione. "Has she been sorted yet?"
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Dumbledore cut her off. "No, I was just going to do so before you arrive," Dumbledore took out a tattered hat and pointed at it. "This, Miss Granger, is the sorting hat. It'll let you know which house you are the most suitable for. Would you mind putting it on now?"
"I-no." She reached for it, her mind still whirling about thoughts of Dippet and Dumbledore. It seemed as if Dumbledore was pulling the strings in this school, and Dippet was a mere figurehead. She regretted her decision to give the note to Dumbledore, and wished she could go back in time and read it before he did. She had thought of him to be trustworthy at first, but now that she had actually talked to him, it sounded as if he was just manipulating Dippet. Who knew if he was going to manipulate her as well.
She plopped the hat on top of her head, and it covered her eyes. It was dead silent for awhile, and Hermione was about to pull it off and ask how she could be sorted by a hat when suddenly, a voice was speaking in her ear.
"Hello, Hermione Granger." The voice sounded old and slightly cracked. It was rather quiet as well, so Hermione had to strain her ears to hear. "It has been a long time, hasn't it? We meet again."
"Again?" She asked. Did the hat know about her past? Why she was here with no memories? "What do you mean, again?" She wanted answers, and the hat seemed to have the answers. Now, if only she could coax them from it.
The hat chuckled, but didn't answer her question. "I see you're in a different state than you were before," it said. It sounded rather amused, almost like it knew everything about her but didn't feel like telling her. "That's quite an impressive memory block you've got there. You remember nothing?"
Hermione shook her head, but didn't know if the hat could sense her as well as hear her, so she added, "No. Can you please tell me?"
"Interesting." It purred, like she was a game that he was playing. It didn't go unnoticed by Hermione, however, that it had once again ignored her question. "Now I believe you are here to be sorted."
Suddenly, a short memory flashed by and Hermione saw the hat singing on a stool in front of hundreds of students. "No song, please," she requested in a timid voice.
The hat sounded surprised. "You remember?"
"Not quite." The memory was gone as fast as it had come. "It's gone now. I can't even remember why I said it." Her mind was black again, but it gave her hope that she could remember other things as well soon.
The hat chuckled. "I usually sing a song for everyone I sort. But seeing as you requested so nicely, I will let you be. Now close your mind, dear child, and let me look in your mind." It sounded quite like Dumbledore, and Hermione wondered absentmindedly if this was one of his creations.
"There's nothing to look at." She pointed out. Her mind was completely blank.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Hermione Granger. Just because your memories are not present does not mean that Hermione Granger is not inside that body. You would do well to remember that. Now, I believe our time is up, and I hope to see you again in the future, preferably safe and sound." Before Hermione could ask what it meant, it shouted out, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Hermione removed the hat shakily and placed it on the table. Dumbledore was smiling gently at her, while Dippet was clapping loudly. It seemed to be the only thing he could do. She could probably be a better headmaster than he was, though she wisely decided to school her features into a nice smile instead.
"Marvelous! Albus here is the head of your house. Quite a fine one, if I may say so," Dippet glanced towards the clock. "It's getting rather late, so I must retire to my room. I hope to see you at breakfast tomorrow, Hermione." With that said, he got up and exited the room, leaving Hermione once again with the transfiguration teacher. Hermione didn't quite trust him anymore; he was more powerful and manipulative than she had originally thought. She was going to pretend to trust him while she went on with his own agenda.
"I believe it is time for me to retire as well," Dumbledore said, standing up. Hermione copied his actions, eyeing the hat, which had deflated in to a mushy puddle of cloth, suspiciously. "Come along, Miss Granger. I will show you your room."
Even though the room was not rightfully hers, and she had essentially kicked someone out to have the right to live in it, Hermione couldn't help but admire its beauty.
When she had first entered the Head headquarters, there had been a huge room that greeted her. Comfortable armchairs dotted the room, and a large fire burned in the fireplace. Dumbledore informed her that it was the Head Common Room, and she would be required to share it with the Head Boy. Not that Hermione had any problem with that; the room was too large for her to have on her own, anyway, and she planned to spend much of her time in the library.
Two stairs led up to two different rooms. One for the Head Boy and one for the Head Girl. Dumbledore had left her after that, so she had been allowed to explore her room by herself. The previous girl's stuff had been cleared out, and her suitcase was indeed in the room. She opened it curiously, as she didn't have any possessions from her past life, and found that it had all the supplies needed for the school year. There was also a big, furry cat which had pounced on her the second she entered the room. He was to remained unnamed until she found a good name for him.
She was sitting on the bed, admiring the room, when the door opened, and a boy came through. His back was to her, though, which she found extremely weird. Did he always walk backwards? He had black hair, and looked rather tall, though she couldn't get a glimpse of his face. He was wearing the same robes that she had found in her suitcase, though, so she assumed that it was the school uniform.
Hermione was about to tell him that he had the wrong room, and ask him how he missed the words 'Head Girl' engraved on the door, when she spotted another person entering the room right after him.
The person was a girl dressed in the same robes, but there was a pin attached to it, glittering under the light. She was on the shorter side with brown hair reaching her shoulders, slightly wavy. She was giggling, and before Hermione could say anything, stepped inside the room. She shut the door behind her, and then her back was to the wall, and the boy was snogging her senseless. Hermione gaped as the girl wounded her arms around his neck to bring him closer, and the boy's hands settled on her waist. They were so close; there wasn't any room between their bodies.
After a full minute of watching them, she cleared her throat loudly when the boy's hands began travelling downwards, causing both of them to notice her for the first time. The boy stepped away from the girl, which caused a look of disappointment to cross her face. "I'm sorry for interrupting." She must've been blushing; her face felt so hot. "But I think you have the wrong room."
The boy cocked his head to one side, and Hermione suddenly realized how handsome he was. His eyes were grey, and his hair was combed to one side. His cheekbones were high and his hands were large and fingers long. He assessed her carefully, and Hermione found herself blushing again just under his stare. Seemingly satisfied, he shot her a wink, and Hermione very nearly wanted to melt into a puddle.
Hermione was very tempted to cross the room to check if someone had accidentally turned the heater on too high.
The girl, however, was less friendly. "How dare you!" She shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at Hermione. "This is my room, and you dare to come here and say this is yours? Who are you, anyway? I've never seen you before." She huffed. "Have you ever heard of privacy?"
Realization dawned Hermione, and she glanced at her, eyes open wide. "A-are you Augusta? Augusta Longbottom? The Head Girl?"
The girl blinked at her, and then a proud smile appeared on her face. "Yes I am." She announced. "If there's a conflict, you should wait downstairs. It has been a rule to never come in the Head common room. Ever." She shot Hermione a suspicious glance. "How did you get in here, anyway?"
Hermione bit her lip and looked down. "Um…"
"Hey!" Augusta looked around, suddenly realizing that the room was filled with Hermione's possessions. "Where did all my stuff go?" She narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "Did you hide it? Do you think this is funny?" She held up her hands before Hermione could speak. "Or, is this another dare? You think you're all cool, don't you, sneaking into the Head Girl's room. You think that makes you in the 'in crowd,' don't you?"
"I did not." She looked down. Augusta 's snog buddy was looking at her in amusement—though Hermione wasn't sure if he was laughing at her or the whole situation in general—and she wasn't going to risk meeting his eyes again. She had blushed enough for a lifetime. Plus, if her face got any redder she was sure she was going to explode. "Er…I'm the new Head Girl."
There was a moment of silence when no one spoke, and then Augusta, to Hermione's surprise, laughed. "Oh, I was wrong! You do have a sense of humor." She giggled and clutched the boy's arm to steady herself. The boy seemed to send her a disgusted look, but it was gone as soon as it came, making Hermione wonder if she imagined it. "Who sent you here to cheer me up? That was the funniest thing I've heard all day. I must thank them."
Hermione blinked. "No. Professor Dumbledore told me that he sent someone to tell you that I'm the new Head Girl. Someone named Horace, I think."
"Ah, old Sluggie." The boy spoke for the first time, and Hermione realized that his voice, along with his face, was melodic. She wouldn't mind listening to it all day. He looked amused, as if he shared some secret with this 'Sluggie.' "Forgetful as always."
"Tom!" Augusta said, her amused expression sliding off. "Don't tell me you believe her!"
"She's not lying." Tom gestured towards Hermione, who was staring at the two of them with big eyes. "Though, Head Girl?" he narrowed his eyes at her. "What have you done to deserve this?" Hermione felt herself shrinking back under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Yes, why!" Augusta narrowed her eyes at Hermione, and then turned back towards Tom. "Do you think it's because of the house unity again? Because I'll go let him know that the two of us get along perfectly fine!" Tom sent her a small reassuring smile, and Hermione almost snorted; from what she had witnessed, the two of them got along more than fine.
"No, it's not." Hermione offered helpfully. Dumbledore had told her a little about the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Judging from the facts, it looked like this Tom guy was in Slytherin. "I was sorted in to Gryffindor as well."
"Then what is it?" Augusta harrumphed. "This is scandalous! This is not fair!" She pointed at Hermione again, and Hermione found herself shrinking back at the girl's furious glare. "You can't just take my position like that!"
"I know." Hermione tried to apologize. "I told Professor Dumbledore that, but he forced me to take it. Please talk to him for me and tell him that this is not right."
Augusta looked genuinely surprised for a moment, and then a sneer appeared on her face. "Trying to look like you're the victim, aren't you? I know you're a lot of things, but you most definitely are not the victim. Don't think you can solve the whole problem by acting like one."
"What?" Hermione looked at her pleadingly, but the girl simply ignored it. "You have to believe me. I don't even want this position. I tried to tell them that it was rightful yours. I—where are you going?"
Augusta was heading towards the door. "I'm going to see Professor Dumbledore." She snarled. "And when I get back, I will see you in Azkaban for manipulating a teacher's thoughts. It's highly illegal, especially in something as important as this. You may as well have murdered someone." She all but slammed the door, and Hermione could hear her stomping all the way downstairs.
The boy named Tom still remained, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He had his smirk on his face and was looking at her with his grey—and beautiful—eyes. Unlike Augusta, he didn't seem to mind this arrangement at all. Part of her felt guilty that she interrupted Augusta when she was obviously busy, but part of her was glad that she did.
"So." Tom tilted his head slightly. "Who are you, exactly?"
"Erm." She found her mind going blank. "I-I'm Hermione Granger."
Tom narrowed his eyes suddenly, all signs of amusement gone from his face. Hermione gulped nervously. "Granger?" He asked, an angry tone in his voice. "Are you a mudblood?"
Hermione blinked, and then shrugged. "I don't know." Dumbledore never mentioned that word. "It depends what that is." It was a unique sort of word, though. If she was to harbor a guess, it sounded like someone who had mud for blood. It sounded like an insult, but there was no way this Head Boy would use insults like that. He had to be a model student, after all. There must be another meaning for the word.
Tom didn't seem to believe her. "What's your blood status?"
Blood status? Hermione was puzzled. "Er…do you mean blood type?" She questioned. "Because Professor Dumbledore told me my blood type is O."
"Dumbledore told you?" Tom said suspiciously. "What is he, your father?" Apparently, the very notion disgusted him as he began back up from her, an ugly look on his face. Hermione didn't know whether or not to feel offended. Did he think she was too stupid to be his daughter.
"I lost my memory," Hermione explained. "I woke up on the fields just a couple of hours ago. There was a note in my hand, but Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let me read it. It seemed to give a biography of my life." She suddenly looked at him. "Is it normal?"
"Is it normal?" He looked at her, and when he saw she wasn't joking, let out a small chuckle. "Of course it isn't normal." He was quiet for a couple of minutes, and then smirked at her. "Welcome to the position, Hermione Granger." He purred. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."
"B-but," Hermione sputtered, cursing herself for not taking the easier path by returning the sentiment. Why did she have to stutter? Stuttering was terribly unattractive, and judging by the smug look on his face, he knew exactly the effect he was having on her. "Augusta is going to talk to Professor Dumbledore right now."
"She's not going to change his mind," Tom said simply, and then his handsome face changed in to a scowl. He muttered something that sounded like, "If only he were so easy to manipulate," under his breath, but Hermione wasn't sure if she heard him correctly. He then looked her over, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Someone like you couldn't possibly have manipulated him."
She was slightly insulted, but it was the truth. She pulled out the wand that Dumbledore had given her and eyed it sadly. "I suppose that's true." She said. "I don't even know how to use this thing."
When did he become so close to her? He had somehow managed to move away from the wall without making a sound and now stood in front of her. His hand moved, and for a second, Hermione thought he was going to take her wand. Instead, his soft fingers went under her chin and he tilted her chin up to look at him. He leaned closer, so she could feel his warm breath, and he hers.
"Then I'll just have to teach you, don't I?" He said, his eyes softly sparkling. Hermione found herself nodding, and then to her dismay, he stepped back. He told her when to get up for breakfast, and then left for his own room. As the door swung shut behind him, Hermione could feel his absence already, the room instantly ten degrees colder.
It had been two hours and six minutes since she had been discovered on the field by Professor Dumbledore. Two hours and six minutes since she woke up and discovered she had lost her memory. Two hours and six minutes since she had spotted this huge castle.
Two hours and six minutes before, she didn't know what magic was, and who Tom was.
She was already looking forward to life here at Hogwarts.