Author's Note: This is is a completely ridiculous, crack-ficcy, utterly absurd story. I shall be hacking and slashing at continuity, characters, and the very fabric of space-time in some places in order to suit my desires. Credit for the scenario comes from Ouran Host Club.
SO, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, ON WITH THE STORY!
Chapter 1: Enter, Hermione, via Time Turner Trope-splosion
Hermione was falling.
Well. That wasn't quite right. It was more of a wobbly, spinning, aimless dive in all directions that felt like falling but was actually more of a floaty sort of plummet. Up was down then left and right. It was all rather tricky, actually, and none of it was made any better by the spinning, glowing, white-hot dust that surrounded her body. Hermione's stomach didn't like it one bit. Neither, in fact, did the rest of her.
There had been a Time Turner. How she'd found it didn't really matter. How she'd broken it was a similarly useless thing to ponder, since it had broken and thrown her into an endless chasm of stars and darkness and there was nothing that she could do about it.
Then, as quickly as it had gobbled her up, the void spat her out onto a very hard and unforgiving grassy knoll. Sure, it looked plush and green from afar, but Hermione slammed into it at a dangerous speed, so it was rather like jumping out of a speeding car onto a mattress made of tissue paper and expecting to come out of the experience unscathed. Luckily, she still had her wand in one hand, and was able to cast a quick cushioning charm on the ground before she face-planted into it. Of course, when she finally did rise from her landing, her face and body was still caked with dirt and dark with burrs, but Hermione was happy to be both not-dead and uninjured, so she counted it as a win.
Brushing off her face and robes the best she could, Hermione stood and took in the magnificence that stood before her.
Hogwarts castle had always been an old, drafty place, but it had also had a breathtaking charm to it as well. Now, however, instead of a mere castle, there were a number of various, highly decorative buildings with a tall clock tower that could rival Big Ben standing at the middle of it all. Hogwarts castle was still there, but it was longer and its windows gleamed like cut diamonds. The entire place looked as though it had been pulled from a fairytale. An extremely expensive fairytale.
Hermione cast a tempus charm to see what time it was, and determined that it was about half past noon. Had it really only been twenty minutes? Hermione had felt as though she'd been stuck in that awful void for days. Her stomach growled as if to collaborate that particular fact.
There was nothing for it. Hermione would have to go to the castle sometime or other to find help. The burns from the heated sand bit at her skin and clothing like tiny fiery suns, and Hermione did her best to brush them off as she started towards the castle in the far distance.
As Hermione reached the front steps to the school, she did her best to avoid the odd student here and there as they strode through the grounds. Most of them were wearing something akin to a school uniform instead of the traditional robes that Hermione wore. In fact, there was something...incredibly expensive about their tailor-made clothing. The boys and the girls alike appeared to have had their clothing perfectly fitted to their bodies, and Hermione couldn't help but stare. Also, there appeared to be a fairly wide variety of ages of students, from the very young to what Hermione supposed must be college-aged students. She frowned. Perhaps, instead of throwing her back in time, she'd been thrown forward instead? It would certainly explain the expanded grounds and beautified buildings.
Hermione entered the castle without any further distractions and then asked one of the portraits near the front hall how to get to the headmaster's office.
"You look like you ought to head to the infirmary first, lass," the painted witch princess replied, her pointed tartan hat askew on her head. "You wait here. I'll go get Madam Pomfrey."
Hermione's heart leapt as she heard the familiar name. Perhaps, in the future, a descendant of the original Madam Pomfrey worked here! Hermione couldn't think of any other reason why the name would be the same other than some strange coincidence.
When Madam Pomfrey did arrive, however, Hermione was struck by how utterly young she was. Beyond that, however, the mediwitch was just as much of a worrier and fussed over Hermione as though she was a mother hen.
"Oh, you poor thing!" she clucked. "Let's get you to the infirmary immediately! Don't worry, I'll alert the headmaster."
Hermione followed the mediwitch up the stairs to the infirmary and was very pleasantly surprised at the rather effective burn salve that soon covered her poor, aching body. After a few potions and a short nap in one of the hospital beds, the mediwitch allowed Hermione to shower properly and then offered her a formless hospital gown while the house-elves were washing her clothing.
"I say, those robes sure are an old style," the mediwitch commented as she set down a tray of soup with crackers onto Hermione's bedside table. "Are you new here, dear?"
Hermione stuffed a cracker into her mouth to as to avoid actually answering verbally and merely nodded. She still needed to see the headmaster to confirm her suspicions, but she was getting a very odd feeling that she was further off the mark than she'd originally imagined.
When Hermione awoke, it was to a pair of familiar blue eyes staring down at her. Albus Dumbledore, alive and well and with quite a lot less gray in his beard stood with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Ah," he said, as she blinked and stretched. "Did you have a good rest, then?"
Hermione nodded, her belly churning with butterflies. What was going on? She wasn't even sure if Dumbledore would know how to solve this particular problem.
"I...had an accident," Hermione said, looking down at her hands.
"That much is obvious," Dumbledore replied with a sage nod. "However did you find yourself covered with so many pieces of time dust? Normally, it has to be carefully distilled using painstaking charms and then safely concealed inside of a-"
"-Time Turner?" Hermione finished, "Yeah...about that. I...er...may have broken one and fallen into a hole in time-space."
Dumbledore stared at her for a long moment. Then, he chuckled. "Oh, well, if that is all."
"Sir, I know you from...wherever I was before," Hermione continued. "The problem is that I don't recognize the grounds. At all. And, well, from the time I was in, I can tell you that you're dead."
"I am now feeling rather fortunate to be here instead of there, I must confess," Dumbledore replied after a long, pensive silence. "Well, from what you've told me, it seems like it's still a bit too early to tell exactly what has happened, but I suppose we ought to assume that it will be difficult to downright impossible for you to return safely to where you were before until we can truly ascertain what happened in the first place. I had Madam Pomfrey save as much of the time sand as we could fit in a glass phial, so we shall send it to the Ministry for analysis. In the meantime, however, we need to figure out what to do with you, Miss…?"
"Granger," Hermione said, "Hermione Granger, sir. And, for the record, I'm glad that you're alive as well."
Dumbledore smiled at her. "Here at Hogwarts Academy, we-"
"Excuse me?"
"Yes?" Dumbledore seemed unfazed.
"Did you say Hogwarts Academy?" Hermione said slowly.
"Why, yes," Dumbledore replied mildly. "Is that not the name of this fine institution in...your world?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Hm, curious and curiouser," Dumbledore said. "Well, no matter. The problem here is that we don't just let anyone into our school. It is both prestigious and expensive to attend Hogwarts Academy instead of the lesser Pigpus Prep, which is more for...average students. Tell me, Miss Granger, how are your academics?"
Hermione brightened at this question. "I'm at the top of my class, sir," she said breezily, hoping that she didn't sound as though she was bragging. "I'd be happy to take any manner of tests to prove it."
Dumbledore stroked his beard, which appeared slightly pink in colour and had a bit of a sparkle to it and nodded. "Hmm, yes, yes. Well, we do just so happen to have an academic scholarship program for the particularly gifted. If you can manage a 99.9% score on your entrance exams, you can attend with your tuition and board covered. The only problem is that your school supplies, such as your uniform and books, must still be paid for by you. I can give you a grace period to save up for these items and allow you to borrow the library copies of your books as a courtesy, but you will have to buy your own by the end of your first year here in order to stay on."
Hermione frowned. "But sir," she protested. "I'm seventeen years old. I'm a legal adult- shouldn't I be too old for the Academy?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "Dear girl, our classes go up to age twenty-five. We have a full range of apprenticeship programs and secondary studies depending on the classes you decide to take and the field you're interested in going into as a career. Here at Hogwarts Academy, we don't just get you ready for the world, we ease you into it."
Hermione frowned. That line sounded suspiciously like an advertisement, but she let it go. After all, Dumbledore obviously knew what he was talking about.
"It's Thursday evening now, so I shall give you until Monday to study for your entrance exams," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "I'll have Professor McGonagall send up the recommended study material in the morning."
"I won't let you down, sir," Hermione said, her eyes blazing with the challenge ahead.
Dumbledore chuckled and gave her a kindly look over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "I don't doubt it one bit, Miss Granger. It was a pleasure meeting with you."
Madam Pomfrey turned the lights out soon after Dumbledore left, and Hermione tried to sleep. It was much harder with the sounds of other patients wafting through the thin sheets strung upon rings that served as walls around each bed, but eventually she managed.
Hermione had enjoyed meeting Professor McGonagall the next morning. The woman was just as she remembered, though there were no strands of gray or white hair at her temples. Hermione was rather surprised when McGonagall changed into an orange tabby on her way out of the infirmary after dropping off the books, but then again, she'd already noticed a number of differences so she tried not to let it show.
Reading through the testing material was an exercise in frustration, as most things were the same, but certain bits were different for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Many of the pronunciations for spells were slightly different than she'd learned originally. Luckily, most of the spells part of the exam would be via practical application, and Hermione found that her silent spellcasting was unchanged.
By Monday, she was ready, and she didn't even need to look at the impressed expression on Dumbledore's face to know that she'd aced the test in record time.
"Welcome to Hogwarts Academy, Miss Granger," he said brightly, shaking her hand. "I will have the Deputy Headmistress set you up with your lodging and your student identification card."
Hermione beamed. "Thank you, sir, I truly appreciate it!"
"No, Miss Granger," he replied, holding up a hand, "it is I who should be thanking you. You are truly remarkable- I haven't seen scores this high for years."
Hermione skipped to the front office with a song in her heart.
The Deputy Headmistress, it turned out, was Professor Sprout.
Hermione barely had time to straighten down her long bushy hair before the picture had been taken.
"Hermio...neh?" Professor Sprout asked, holding up the parchment with the spelling of her name. "Is that correct?"
"It's more like Her-Mai-Oh-Knee," Hermione corrected.
"Ah," Sprout replied. "Pretty name. Is it related to Hermes, the messenger god?"
"It's from Shakespeare, I think," Hermione replied with a shrug.
"Ah, yes, so it is." Sprout nodded. "Lovely man."
Luckily, by that time, Sprout had ushered her to the door of her new quarters. The room was small and plain, but Hermione liked it.
"Do you sort children into a House?" Hermione asked, hoping she wouldn't get a bewildered look.
"A long time ago, we used to," Sprout replied. "However, most students just choose the House they like best. Each year, you're given the option to stay with the same House or change it as you like. Now that the dorms are all consolidated, we don't really have separate common rooms anymore, but there are clubs rooms for each group to gather for various activities, and we still award and subtract points."
Hermione wasn't exactly sure what she thought of the change, but the thought of having a room to herself without anyone snoring nearby was heavenly.
"Is it ok if I choose Gryffindor?" Hermione asked.
Sprout laughed. "I'm probably not the best to ask that particular question. Due to my status as Head of Hufflepuff I'm a bit biased, but it's up to you."
"I've decided," Hermione said with a smile. "I'll go with Gryffindor."
"Very well, I'll mark it in the wards," Sprout replied. "Now, then, is there anything else you need before I head off for my evening rounds?"
After asking about the meal times and locations of various classes she was interested in taking, Sprout bid her farewell and left Hermione to lay back on the little bed in her dorm room. A sense of melancholy filled her as she began to wonder what her friends were doing back in her old world. Had they discovered her absence yet? Were they worried about her? Or, in a cruel yet fitting manner, had time and space altered itself to erase her from her old world in order to place her here?
"Well," Hermione said in a brave tone of voice as she stared up at the ceiling, "there's no point in worrying about any of that stuff. What's done is done, at least for the time being."
As she drifted off to sleep, she found herself wishing that she believed those words more than she actually did in her heart of hearts.