A/N: I can't mimic English slang, so I won't. I'm Canadian.

It's been more than a decade since I've followed Harry Potter extensively, so my knowledge is largely supplemented by the Wikia and snippets here and there. I just got a bright idea whilst delving into some time travel fan fiction. Head's up, I'm so annoyed with these break lines. If they don't show, please let me know.

I'd like to acknowledge EL Montgomery who inspired me with their work on "The Other Evans Girl."

As for pairings, uhhh. We'll talk about that when the time comes.

Special thanks to To Mockingbird, Enbi and Monster Cat Music Girl from my discord for being my lovely last minute betas.

Also, ages have been changed for plot purposes.

When her twin daughters turned eleven, Elizabeth Evans was not prepared. It was the first day of summer vacation and twelve-year-old Petunia was supposed to be cleaning her room. Instead, she burst through the backdoor of the kitchen saying something like—

"Mom! Mom!" Startled, Elizabeth nearly dropped her knife. "Mom! Lily's out there in the park talking to a mean boy!"

"What boy?" Setting her knife down, she wiped her hands against her apron. "Which boy? The boy down the street?"

"I don't know," Petunia said. "I don't know, but he called her a witch!"

Elizabeth Evans wasn't sure if she could keep up with the insults that children hurled at each other these days. When she watched the telly with the kids, there were cartoons of witches. Witches were ugly and they had pimples on their large and crooked beak noses. They stirred cauldrons, and their laughter mimicked nails grating chalkboard. They had stray, flyaway hair, and they were always up to no good.

Lily was a pretty girl. She was, after all, her father's daughter with his vibrant red hair and dimples on his cheeks. Did Britain have a prejudice against redheads?

Now let's be reasonable about this, Lizzy.

"Are they fighting, Tuney?"

Petunia frowned.

"He was talking about how they'd be shipped off to this school in Scotland where they'd learn to wave wands and do all sorts of things."

"So... they aren't fighting?"

"Is she talking to Severus again?" The two of them looked over their shoulder to see eleven year old Hermione Evans walk downstairs towards them. She skipped down the last two steps.

"Again?" Petunia echoed.

"Tuney. He's not a bad boy. He's just a little difficult because of his background."

"And what is his background?" Elizabeth turned to Hermione. "Have you met this boy, Hermione?"

"The Snape family," Hermione said. "They moved in a few months ago."

"Oh yes. I did visit them. His mother is a bit odd isn't she?"

"Calls her a witch too," Petunia asserted.

"Well, I'm sure she's a lovely woman," Elizabeth said with a raised eyebrow. "He does seem like he needs to learn a few manners. Petunia, why don't you go upstairs and finish cleaning your room. Hermione, can you go find your sister?"

Hermione skipped past her and out the backdoor to find her sister, while Petunia mumbled something not-very-nice about the boy from Spinner's End.

A letter was sent in a few days later informing them of a school called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry via an owl. Elizabeth nearly had a heart attack when a tawny brown owl perched itself on her kitchen counter top with a letter attached to it's leg. She asked Harold to untie it. This was followed by a visit from a stern woman who wore a long dress with a top hat and a letter in her hands a few days after Harold burned previous one.

She sat them down—in their own living room—and told them that they would require a strong cup of tea for this conversation.

"I'm sorry," Harold said. "Could you repeat that again? My daughters are what?"

The tea was untouched and so were the biscuits. It was Lily who interrupted the conversation. "Daddy! She said we were witches!"

"I…"

"It means we can do cool and weird things that other little kids can't!"

"Like?"

"Like this!" Lily turned the roses in the vase blue. She plucked out one and presented it to Elizabeth. "See?"

Elizabeth didn't know what to do with the rose. She took it with an awkward smile and a nod in Lily's direction. Elizabeth had read many self-help books for being a better parent. But none of the books were particularly helpful in this scenario.

A good mother didn't look down on her child for being a bit…special? She glanced at Hermione who stared intently at the wallpaper above McGonagall's head blankly.

Or children?

"I suppose Hermione can conjure up bouquets too, can't she?" Harold chuckled nervously.

McGonagall smiled at Lily, who beamed back.

"Yes… your children are a bit special."

And that, Elizabeth Evans thought faintly, was the understatement of the century.

Lily and Severus were as thick as thieves. And the Evans family had lost the two of them in the crowds. While Mum and Dad went off to find them, Hermione and Petunia sat at the cafe where Hermione poured over her new textbook.

"Honestly," Petunia muttered. "I told her to stay put! I hope you're not going to go run off as well, Hermione!"

"I'm not friends with Severus, Tuney," Hermione replied. She flipped the page. "He likes Lily more. I'm not as exciting as Lily."

"He's such a horrid boy."

"He's not bad."

"He made fun of me for not being able to go to Hogwarts. They both did. They both said that I wasn't special enough."

"Tuney," Hermione said patiently. "I thought you wanted to become Prime Minister of Britain. I honestly believe that you'll make a great Prime Minister."

Mollified, her sister glowered at her. "You really think so?"

"I do."

"What about you? I thought you wanted to become a dentist? That's what you wrote every year in our school papers on what we wanted to become."

"Being a dentist is a lot of work," Hermione replied. "I'd have to study for a long time, Tuney. Besides, I realized that I don't like smelling people's breath."

"I wanted to go to Hogwarts too... but he called me a Muggle."

"Being a Muggle isn't a bad thing, Tuney."

"Thanks, Hermione," Petunia said. "I feel much better. Why can't Lily be like you sometimes?"

Hermione only cryptically smiled in response and returned back to her textbooks. Page 185 of Hogwarts: A History talked about Salazar Slytherin and his legacy left behind in the castle. The Chamber of Secrets.

They found Lily and Severus in the pet shop ogling the cages and cages of owls. The Evans brought their daughter a snowy white owl, and they were next off to Ollivander's wand shop. Severus was dragged off by his mother to try robe fitting. The Evans promised to buy Hermione an owl after they finished with that "wand business."

The five of them shuffled into the wand shop, and Elizabeth wrung her hand nervously. There was another family being attended to by a little man over the counter with a crooked nose.

Everything was so terrifying.

"Hello," the woman said to her. She eyed the four children. "Off to buy those wands, I see?"

The boy in front of her was busy trying out different wands. He waved one and the bookshelf wiggled. The man dove to catch the falling books. Muttering to himself, he left the room to find a different box.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied. "We're, ah… Muggles. Non magical people."

"Oooh," the woman said. "Well I'm Euphemia, Euphemia Potter and this is—James!?" The boy turned around looking slightly guilty after he tried to touch something. He caught sight of the girls in front of them, and he grinned.

Elizabeth felt Harold bristle protectively.

"Hi!" He hopped down. "I'm James. James Potter."

"I'm Lily. This is Petunia and that's Hermione."

James grinned at all of them. "Who's going to Hogwarts?"

"Me and Hermione," Lily said. "We're twins."

"I think you'll all be in the same year." Euphemia beamed. "Isn't that lovely? Oh, Mr. Ollivander. Having trouble finding my son's wand?"

"Not at all, Miss Potter. My family has never been able to fail a single child," he said. "I think I found you your wand, Mr. Potter. 11 inches. Pliable. Mahogany. Excellent for Transfiguration."

He ran a long forefinger across the wand to pick off some dust, and he handed it over to James.

"Sweet!" James reached for his wand with excitement.

A wand, Elizabeth decided, looked like something which would snap if one of the girls accidentally left it lying around and stepped on. This was really starting to seem like a cartoon. Didn't that witch have a wand too? She bid the Potters goodbye, and Lily stepped forward to claim her wand.

Ollivander eyed the twins.

"And here's a family that I've never met before. I need your arm measurements, dear."

After some rifling through the boxes—Elizabeth was very concerned that the boxes would topple over them—the wandmaker found the right box and presented it to Lily. The wand made beautiful sparks appear.

Hermione stepped up after her sister. She waved the wand, and the books toppled over. Lily and Petunia yelped. Harold ducked. Elizabeth took a few steps back while clutching Harold's arms.

"Goodness me," Ollivander said. "Let's try this."

Hermione took one wave. The books fell off the shelf. Harold pulled Lily and Petunia out of the way. The second wand ended up breaking the glass orb which James was trying to touch earlier. It continued like this, and Harold and Elizabeth were very concerned. What if Hermione just waved her wand around like that in the living room and accidentally hurt someone? The next wand set a few books on fire, which Ollivander put out. What if she set the furniture on fire?

"Hmm…"

"Um… Mr. Ollivander?" Elizabeth said tentatively. "Do you really think our daughter has an aptitude for magic?"

The man blinked at her.

"I assure you she does," he said. "Sometimes… this does take a while." He began to scratch on the parchment and mumble to himself. "You could go finish the rest of your shopping."

Harold and Elizabeth looked very reluctant to do so until Hermione spoke.

"Lily still needs her robes fitted," she said. "I think you should continue shopping."

"Alright," Elizabeth said. "Let's go, Lily."

"But I want to see what kind of wand Hermione gets too!" Lily said.

"We do need Lily for the measurements," Harold said.

And Lily threw a longing look at Hermione while her parents shuffled her out of the shop with the wand she paid for. Hermione sent her a reassuring smile.

It took her a few more tries, but Hermione held fifteen wands. Ollivander was starting to grow uneasy. She reacted well to the Phoenix core, but she also reacted well to the dragon's heartstring. The stranger part was that he tried to look for her family records for some sort of reference, and he found that her ancestors were ordinary muggle borns, and magic popped up occasionally in their family.

Muggle-born. He knew people by their wands, and her parents had never bought a wand from him.

"Well…" Ollivander said. "This is certainly a curious situation," he said. "A very curious situation. I'm inclined to think that you may be suited to two wands, Miss Evans. That's a first thing in a long time. "

Hermione rolled the galleons that her father gave her in her pocket. He gave her a little too much because he wasn't sure what was required.

"What are they?"

"The first is twelve and three quarter inches, walnut, dragon heartstring," he said. "That's the first. And for the second… well…"

Hermione tilted her head quizzically.

Ollivander handed her a box. He blew off the dust.

"Try this."

The shop filled up with energy. Her hair was crackling. The books were flying and turning, and the wand sparkled, and her fingers glowed, and Ollivander felt his blood chill.

"And that is… eleven inches long, made of holly, and possesses a phoenix feather core," Ollivander whispered.

Hermione glanced at the wand briefly.

"It feels right. Better than the other one."

"Yes," he said. "It suppose it should." He was eying her carefully. "But it is a bit curious, my dear."

"Why?"

"Well, You-Know-Who currently holds the brother of this particular wand. Keep the specifications of the wand a secret, my dear," he said. He lowered himself with a conspiratorial whisper. "Because it wouldn't fare too well with you if he were to find out that his match was born. These are dark days, my dear. Whispers of a war on the horizon."

"Pardon me, Mr. Ollivander. I wouldn't know anything about someone called You-Know-Who. That sounds like a bit of a fairy-tale name, doesn't it?" Hermione said. She paid her galleons and took the case that Ollivander was holding wordlessly. "But my parents are Muggles, and it all seems like a fairy-tale."

As she was about to leave the shop to go to Madame Malkins for her measurements and to catch up with the rest of her family, Ollivander called after her.

He looked like a smaller man in the middle of this huge shop, and his fingers fiddled around with button on his waistcoat as he tried to find words to say.

"I…" he said softly. "I think I regret selling the brother of that wand to this particular individual. Because great and terrible things were done with it. I hope… to expect better things from you, Miss Evans." He paused. "Greater things."

Hermione smiled.

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."

Lily and Severus burst into her compartment on the train to Hogwarts. Lily's face was red. Severus was scowling.

"What happened?" Hermione asked

"Oh!" Lily said. "Those horrid boys! They said that Slytherin was the worst house! They got into an argument with us over it. It almost makes me want to be in Slytherin myself."

"What house do you want to be in?" Severus asked. "Surely, it's not Gryffindor?"

"Oh I don't know!" Lily said. "I just want the three of us to be together."

Apparently, Severus had forgotten that Hermione was still Lily's sister, and he glanced briefly at her before he turned back to Lily.

"If you're in Slytherin, we can do so much more together!"

"Do you really think I'm someone fit for Slytherin!?" Lily asked. "It sounds like a great house."

"Actually, it's a dratted house."

All three of them looked up at a boy with messy hair who'd stepped into their compartment and taken a seat besides Hermione. Another boy followed him in, and he leaned against the door. The boy reached over for a chocolate frog.

"Excuse me!" Lily said. "That's not yours. That's my sister's."

The boy grabbed it and licked it, much to Lily's utter disgust. He turned to Hermione, who was watching the whole thing with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you still want it?"

"You're the boy who was at Ollivander's," Hermione said.

"Sure am!"

"What do you want?"

"Well, my mate and I decided to slither into this compartment to see you lovely ladies," he said. Lily turned up her nose in disgust. "Anyways, what's that you were saying about the Slytherin house, Sirius? Terrible load of people?"

"Absolutely terrible. Gotta watch out for them. Whole bunch of filthy snakes. Most of my family ended up in it."

"Think you might end up in the same house as the rest of your family, Sirius?" James sniggered. "Wanna place bets? Will the great Black family heir end up in Gryffindor and disappoint Mum and Popsie? Or will he end up in Slytherin."

"I'd bet on it."

"One chocolate frog!"

"I'd bet my inheritance on it," Sirius said.

"Filthy rich, aintcha?"

The two of them laughed, and James slapped his knee. Hermione stared, unseeing, at the chocolate frog which wiggled between his thumb and forefinger. Being a time-traveler was hard, she thought when the two boys talked. But she'd come to this conclusion a long time ago. No one said it would be easy seeing dead people everywhere, but perhaps a good attitude for a time traveler was to be constantly vigilant. Because there were a lot of people who would want to exploit her knowledge.

"Slytherin is a good house," Snape defended hotly. "Good wizards come out of it!" Lily cleared her throat. "And witches!"

James eyed him. "And you are?"

Severus reached for his wand, but Lily grabbed his hand. She was shaking with anger. The two of them pushed past Sirius, who fell on James' lap with a loud laugh, and the compartment door was slammed close.

When they stopped laughing, they heard a rustle of pages behind them. They glanced at Hermione.

"That's your sister and her friend," James said. "Aren't you going to go after her and leave us a free compartment?"

"Oh, my sister will be fine," Hermione said. She didn't look up. "She'll just go socialize around for a bit and cool off better than listening to me."

"Oh," James said. Sirius righted himself. "Well, if you don't mind if we kept you company?"

"I'm very boring company, Potter," she said.

The two boys played exploding snap and talked about quidditch while Hermione focused on her reading. Eventually, they left the compartment to go terrorize someone else. Lily and Severus entered the compartment shortly before they were about to arrive, and Lily looked brighter and happier. She crawled on the seat towards Hermione.

"Oh Hermione!" she said. Her breath smelled of sweets and chocolates. "Guess who I met! I'm so excited for this school year!"

When Sirius Black was sorted into Gryffindor, James Potter stood up and bellowed over the cheers.

"You owe me your inheritance, Black!"

Grinning, the boy joined the table. Lily followed them shortly after towards the Gryffindor table, and she almost looked dampened. Severus glanced her way sadly. He joined the Slytherin table, where one of the other boys high-fived him.

Hermione was called up shortly after, and she sat down and waited for a good second.

"Hmmmm… Here's an interesting one. A Ravenclaw, perhaps? Very quick witted. But that's not enough of a challenge for you. What if you end up with the Hufflepuffs? Loyalty? Hard-working? We see a bit of all these traits in you."

Hermione stared at the brim of the hat.

"But all of these choices are too easy for you. Gryffindor might prove a challenge…yes. There's lots of bravery in there. But you have something else which outweighs sheer bravery."

"Oh?"

"Ambition." The hat whispered. "There comes a time when quick wit is not enough. Bravery is important, but so is meticulous planning. You bide your time…you lie in wait to strike. I see precise strikes. Strike them where it hurts."

"Oh."

"Oh yes," the hat hummed happily. "Ambition. Power. Greatness. BETTER BE SLYTHERIN!"

"Oh boy."

Hermione had never felt so many eyes on her during when the hat was lifted off her head. Lily looked sadly at her. Hermione sent her a reassuring smile. She glanced back at the Slytherin table where the claps were awkward and scattered.

She took a seat beside Severus.

"I'm sorry I'm not my sister," she said.

He looked down at his plate.

"It's... fine."

A few of the Slytherin were glancing at her curiously, and one of them cleared her throat.

"My name is Alecto Carrow," she said.

"Hermione Evans."

"Doesn't sound like a name of a family I've heard of," Alecto said.

"Because it isn't," Hermione replied simply. She glanced over at the seventh year prefect, Lucius Malfoy who met her steadily. "I'm just a muggle born."

A few of the Slytherins shifted their eyes over to the Sorting Ceremony. Alecto Carrow stared at her wordlessly. Severus continued to stare at his plate.

"Cheer up, Severus," she said. "I may not be my sister, but I hope we get along swimmingly."

He said nothing in response.

Original Strand of Time.

Harry became the head of the Order of the Phoenix two years after he defeated Voldemort.

Ron stood beside her while Mcgonagall—the current head of the Order—spoke at length about Harry's new duties. More people within the DMLE (Department of Magical Law Enforcement) wanted to join the Order after the war.

As the most articulate and sharper members of the Order, Bill and Hermione were placed in charge of negotiating with the Goblins.

Harry still hadn't paid compensation for the damages done to Gringotts, and Griphook had vanished without a trace to vouch for Harry. Harry's own accounts were frozen for over a year now, and he used the Black family account instead. When the Goblins heard that Harry would take lead, they froze the Order's accounts, until the Order accepted the Ministry's offer to become an affiliated society of the DMLE.

"So it's like a club house for the DMLE?" Hermione thought. "Tea and cake, anyone?"

Kingsley promised to reform the ministry, but blood prejudice still factored in employment, because Kingsley wasn't in charge of employment. Not everyone was as brilliant as Hermione. Muggle-borns didn't have an extensive reputation or credentials to prove in order to end up with employment in the higher echelons of the Ministry.

It was a rat-race.

Voldemort's dead, Harry had told her. Do you really think that in the current climate of politics, that people would be inclined to the Dark Arts. We need to establish that. We need to establish an imposing reputation for the Order.

"As an established society, by the Ministry of Magic, the Order new purpose intends to remind people of the group which fought Voldemort."

Most of the original members were dead, Hermione mused. There were so many dead.

"Why?" She blurted in that train of thought.

"Why what?" Ron turned to her.

"Nothing," she said.

Ron glanced back at Harry. He completely missed the train of Hermione's thoughts.

"You don't think Harry ought to be head of the Order?" he asked.

"That's not the problem, Ron."

"Then…"

"Miss Granger," she heard Mcgonagall's voice. "Do you take any issue with Potter being the current head of the order?"

Harry was staring at her oddly. She clenched her jaw.

"There is no problem."

With Harry, the new changes would be implemented. With Harry, the new Order would be established. The resistance group would be so entrenched within the Ministry's clutches that they would forget who they were.

What did they did.

How many people died.

How dangerous the Ministry's involvement was, given the Ministry's bloody record.

Harry and Mcgonagall turned away from the meeting to discuss more matters. To Hermione and to many muggle borns, the word "mudblood" contained the connotation of disgust. It hurt their feelings. It was the looks. It was the bullying.

But meaning?

Hermione shut her eyes.

It should've meant nothing.

Harry and Ron would jump in front of a curse for her, but there was something they just didn't understand.

The Order of the Phoenix was Voldemort's resistance group, but that was where the extent of its effectiveness ended.

"Actually." She cleared her choked throat. "There is a problem. I'm to understand that we just emerged from a war about blood. Mudbloods. Will the ministry implement anti-bullying and anti-harassment laws for Muggleborns… werewolves, half giants and mixed blood families affected by Voldemort? How about job security?" She thought of Lupin. "Will the members of the Order actively push for justice?"

She heard Ron chuckle.

"That would take a while, Hermione."

"It should be a priority, Ron. A lot of people have shut their mouths while—" She felt the members in the room shift uncomfortably "—Voldemort's rampage continued. Now I understand that not everyone's a bloody Gryffindor, but the Ministry's half-arsed attempts at ending racism… " Her quaver picked up. "How can we ensure that this blood prejudice ends?"

Harry stared at her.

Ron awkwardly patted her back.

"Hermione." His chuckle sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt her body warm with ebbing rage. "Everyone knows that all this blood prejudice is a whole load of tosh. The people who don't, well, they are in Azkaban." There was more. "Surely you—the smartest witch in our generation—don't believe that you are lesser because you're a muggle born?"

Current Strand of time.

First, the lessons started, and so did the bullying after two weeks. A month passed. It was the little things, and Hermione heard sniggers when she managed to answer all the questions directed at her. She knew everything. She was good at everything. Part of her wondered if her answers stopped them in their tracks.

But it's only later that she found out that they'd hiked the back of her skirt to show her knickers.

Hermione found a dead frog on her covers. She was pushed and shoved in the hallways. Her classmates didn't talk to her. Her homework was often missing, until she started adding protective charms over her bags. If she was paired up with them, they ignored her in favor of their own botched transfiguration work. They made the toilets flood while she was in it.

Lily often made a beeline for her whenever Gryffindor and Slytherin had classes together. One of those classes was potions.

It was also the only time Lily ever got to talk to her.

Severus brewed his potions with Avery and cast Lily reproachful glances. Severus didn't speak to Hermione, and he didn't have much reason to. She didn't approach him beyond the first few attempts at being friendly.

"How's Sev?" Lily asked. She beamed back down at him. "Is he treating you well?"

"He's fine," Hermione lied.

"I'm worried about you, Hermione," Lily muttered. "I don't get to sit with you, and we can't sit together at the tables either because the Gryffindors boo you away. I can't believe it's like this! Why can't we just get along?"

Lily was beautiful and popular, and she was heartbreakingly friendly. She loved making people get along, and bringing people together. It was what Lily did. She solved disputes. She loved pleasing people. She often ended up tangled in precarious social situations.

Hermione, on the other hand, went out of her way to avoid trouble. She never dressed up like other little girls, and her sweaters were misshapen. She'd bury her nose into a book and avoid people who looked like trouble.

"We could always meet at the library," Hermione offered.

"But I offered to tutor Gladys today," Lily said.

"Tomorrow," Hermione said patiently.

"Alright, Hermy! I'll see you there!"

But when the next day came, Lily accosted her after Herbology and said, "Oh! Hermione! I'm sorry! I have to help Bertha!"

Hermione simply looked at her.

"I'm sorry!" Lily wailed. "You understand though, don't you, Hermione?"

Hermione did. She was like their father. A socialite, if he had the disposable income for it. Instead, he'd opted to keep a network of friends who went out drinking every Friday night.

Lily was the same. She liked people. She liked talking to people. It energized her, and their mother had mentioned that their father and Lily were extroverted. One way Lily dealt with homesickness was with becoming impulsively social.

This is also what made Lily come off as insensitive. She made promises that she couldn't keep, but she made it incredibly easy to forgive her.

But Lily's insensitivity wasn't always a bad thing. It could actually be somewhat advantageous.

After dinner, Hermione took her books and quills and rolls of parchment to the secluded library corner, where she worked without any interruptions. When she was done in an hour, she pulled out a thick black book and began to write.

While Lily brought herself an owl for the two of them, Hermione decided to spend her birthday money on a journal diary from Flourish and Blotts. Weatherproof, the wizard told her, and the pages never ended.

In the silence of the room and away from the den of snakes ready to nip at her heels, Hermione felt her thoughts fall into a familiar sequence which she had tucked away in the corners of her mind.

Harry Potter.

Tom Riddle.

Second war.

The plan was astonishingly simple. End the first war. Voldemort wouldn't know what hit him, when she struck, it would be one, deadly and swift strike.

But for a simple plan, meticulous planning was required.

Dumbledore? Hermione thought. She'd remembered the way the old man's eyes keenly watched her over breakfast, but she didn't look back beyond a nod. Ollivander would have mentioned something to Dumbledore about the wand.

Hermione knew that the only thing betraying any sort of kinship with Voldemort was the wand. The wand specifications.

"Keep it a secret."

Underneath the scribbles of notes and diagrams which charted temporal calculations, Hermione plotted and organized her notes.

She heard Madame Pince approach her with a scowl.

"Time is out of joint," she muttered. She tapped her book with her wand.

The ink swirled to form her schedule for the day. She glanced up at the frowning librarian eyeing her little book.

"Yes, Madame Pince?"

"It's time to leave, Evans."

The bullying continued.

But, she'd developed a sense of fondness with the word "mudblood." It was racist. It was inefficient. It was also powerless, because magical blood mattered to her as much as wizards and witches mattered to muggles.

She knew it angered them, and she knew that it drew too much attention. But there was something satisfying about troubled glances sent her way.

Maybe it was the fact that she missed the exhilaration of a fight. Spells clashing. Sparks. Flames. Dodges. The adrenaline coursed through her system as she remembered a good fight. What was better than a good fight was remembering the feeling of remorselessly overpowering these people hunting her down.

As a time traveller adult in a child's body among a litter of death-eaters-in-training, she felt like a fox in a hen house.

Hermione tapped her foot repeatedly on the ground as she curled over her books early one morning before breakfast.

"Mudblood."

She turned the page of her textbook.

"Mudblood."

She scratched her cheek as she focused on the lines of the book.

"Bella…" she heard someone speak behind the girl.

"If the mudblood doesn't listen, then I'll make her." She felt Bella's hand on her shoulder, and the girl gave her a hard shake. Hermione caught her wrist in a hard grip. "Oh?"

"Is there." Hermione turned over her shoulder to stare at the girl. "A problem?"

"I was calling you," Bellatrix sneered. "You're in my spot."

"This was your spot yesterday, yes, " Hermione said. "But I don't see your name on it."

The Black family had always been beautiful, if Sirius was any example. They had aristocracy in their cheekbones and noses. They had money in their clothes. They had ambition in their plots. These things made up the Most noble and ancient house of black, and the Wizarding Society fell over themselves for these poised purebloods.

But when Bellatrix Black gritted her teeth, Hermione was starkly reminded of how fickle all of these things were. The Ministry laws were a farce. People bought their way into positions. The prestigious family lines were splotched with blood.

The institution just required a good bribe.

Bella reminded Hermione of her older self, only the older self had been caught up in the euphoria of sheer annihilation of mudbloods with madness painted on her face. Azkaban hadn't been kind to her. Where young Bellatrix's hair was long and flowing and luscious, and she was a pretty girl, older Bellatrix was utterly ruined with her tangled gray hair and sallow cheeks with heavy bags and broken teeth.

Too bad she let her go like that, Hermione thought.

There was a line between forced loyalty to Voldemort and sheer mad devotion.

She remembered laughter. Cantankerous laughter. There was a flash of green light. Bang. Fred fell. Bang. Sirius fell. More laughter. There were the words carved on the arm and cruciatus making her writhe on the cold floor.

Hermione twisted her grip around Bellatrix's wrist.

"Cat got your tongue, Black?"

"Hermione!" Hermione glanced over Bellatrix's shoulder Lily approaching her with a worried frown. "What's going on? Oh! Is she your friend?"

"Oh yes!" Hermione said. "We're good friends, aren't we Bella?"

"Piss off." Bellatrix wrenched her hand away from Hermione's grip, and Hermione turned to Lily. She noticed the rest of the table flinch away from Hermione.

Lily sent Bellatrix an indignant look.

"What was that for?"

"Nothing you need to worry your head about," Hermione said. "We were just having a little chat."

If Lily wanted to ask what, she decided it was safer to frown and shrug off her questions for now.

"I wanted to write a letter to mum and Tuney. Do you want to write something together? You can come over to our table where you can sit down and—Oh hi Severus!"

Hermione glanced over Severus who turned away quickly to look at Avery. Avery gloated to Goyle about what his father was doing at the ministry, and he paid Severus no heed.

"Oh." Lily lowered her hand. "Why is he like that?" She frowned.

Hermione assumed that Lily wasn't aware of Severus's new friends. Bellatrix seethed at her from a few seats down.

"Lily, would you like to go back to your Gryffindor table and write our letters together?"

"Okay," she said. "I'll save you a spot! If they boo you away, I promise I'll tell them off."

"You don't need to do that."

Hermione gathered her things, and she glanced over at Snape. He watched Lily leave with a longing look in his eye.

"If you really wanted to talk to her," she said. "Then you should've."

"Mind your own business, Evans."

"Back to family name basis, Sev?"

He didn't reply. On her way to the Gryffindor table, she heard boos in her general direction. Hermione muttered a single protego as a spoon of mash and peas hit her. She edged in beside Lily and some girl who she didn't know.

"Everyone!" Lily said. "This is my sister, Hermione!"

"Everyone" consisted of Lily's friend, Marlene and a girl called Alice. Both of them gave her a tentative smile which she returned. Two boys walked up to them, and Hermione recognized them from the train. James and Sirius, she told herself. Sirius edged in between Marlene and Alice, and the two of them scowled and shifted away from him.

"Oi!" Sirius said. He banged his hands on the table. Hermione eyed the orange juice which looked ready to spill over her parchment. "What's this Snake doing at our table?"

Lily flipped her hair with a sniff of irritation. "She's my sister. She gets to be on this table beside me, because she's my sister."

"She's a snake," James asserted. His eyes narrowed at her behind his spectacles, and Hermione was reminded of Harry and Malfoy. Only she wasn't a prat.

"It doesn't matter! You stupid boy!" Lily yelled. "Hermione, you're not going anywhere."

"Lily."

"Honestly," Lily said. "She's my sister."

"How's the snake's nest?" The two of them sent him a frown. He leaned over the table. "Do you like it here better than there?"

"Black…" Lily warned.

"Lily," Hermione repeated. "Do you have a spare quill?"

Lily blinked. Black frowned.

"I er… yes I do," Lily replied. "We were going to write a letter, weren't we? Are we going to write two letters? Does Tuney want a letter?"

"Who's Tuney?" James asked.

"None of your business," Lily replied with a huff in his direction.

"Tuney?" Sirius repeated. "That's a weird name. Is that your pet dog? Are you writing to your pet dog?"

Hermione paused between 'Dear' and 'Petunia,' as if she'd forgotten Petunia's true name. She looked up at the boy. Two Blacks in one day, and she wondered if the family had a vendetta against her.

"Tuney is our sister," Hermione replied. "She's a muggle."

"Wasn't asking you, snake."

Lily was reaching for her pocket to pull out her wand, but Hermione's hand fell over hers because Lily would make a giant fool of herself in her anger. Instead, she indifferently resorted to ignoring James and Sirius when she set out the scroll in front of her. The boys soon spotted Remus, who was sitting on the other side of the table, and they made a bee-line to join him.

"Lily," she said. "I think we should write two letters. I'll write to Tuney, and you write to mum."

"That's true," Lily said. "Tuney doesn't like me very much, does she?"

"She's just a little disappointed that she didn't get to come along with us."

"A little? We used to be so close! I don't know what happened to the two of us! Does Tuney think I hate her?"

"I'm sure that's not the case."

"Do you think so? Do you really think so? Do you think she'll be nicer to me over the Winter break?"

Hermione continued scratching her parchment. Lily eventually finished writing a short letter to her mother, and she lay her head on Hermione's shoulder. She tried to read the words that Hermione was writing, but Hermione felt her shoulders rumble with a familiar weight when Lily spoke.

"I wish you were a Gryffindor. I miss you, Hermy."

"I know," Hermione said. "But sometimes things don't work out the way we want it go, Lily."

"Do they treat you nicely? Do you and Sev spend lots and lots of time together? I'm so jealous. The two of you must be up to mischief."

She ran her hands through Hermione's curls, and twirled one of the locks around her fingers.

Hermione paused between writing a sentence telling Petunia that school was horrid, and it was very very boring. She concocted a story of how horrible the other children were. This was to give Petunia an impression of one of those horrible boarding schools which she'd read about when she was younger.

"We are."

Lily Evans had a twin sister, and this wasn't news to Lupin. But seeing her at the Gryffindor table and intimately familiar and comfortable around her sister sort of intrigued Remus.

He was an only child, and he'd never known what being around other children was like.

The Evans twins were a bit of an enigma to decipher. Everyone liked Lily, but everyone was not sure about her Slytherin sister. James and Sirius and most of the people in his year, who were acquainted with Slytherin, thought the whole lot of them were a rotten bunch.

Remus wasn't an exception to that thinking. Slytherin played dirty. Just look at the quidditch matches. But seeing her at breakfast writing a letter to her mother made him think about the color of their ties which separated the Evans twins. Where Lily was draped over her sister as a support, Hermione was more concerned with her letter. There was an occasional smile, but they seemed to have a comfort. Something privy. It made him wish he had a sibling. Comfort.

He wanted a sibling to trust. When he was younger, he'd made her up. Her name would be Elicia, because his mum always said she liked that name for a girl.

She'd be younger than him, because Greyback would never get to her.

Elicia had long faded away into the recesses of his mind when he came to Hogwarts and met James and Sirius.

During a particularly boring potions class, he found his eyes straying over to the two of them. As the only two in the class who weren't separated by their houses, and Hermione always sat on the Gryffindor side.

That day, he sat behind them.

The Evans twins worked diligently, mostly under Hermione's guidance. She helped Lily through the tough spots. Lily nodded her head fervently. But when she made it, it was bubbling a sickly green instead of the pale blue transparent liquid.

"I don't get it," she whispered hurriedly. "I think I did it all wrong."

Remus had already finished his potion, and Peter was packing his bag. Hermione swapped her potion with Lily's with a flick of her wand. Remus blinked.

"Hermio—"

"That's excellent, Miss Evans." He glanced into Lily's cauldron with a beaming smile on his face. He turned to Hermione's expectantly. "And… the other Miss Evans, I do think you could work a bit more on it."

"Prof—"

"I apologize," Hermione said. "I think it's not my day."

Slughorn shook his head sadly. "I trust you, because you are one of the brightest potioneers that this class has managed to get. In fact, you may be competing with Mister Snape here." He chuckled delightedly. "I do expect better from my house." He winked at her.

Hermione smiled. Lily looked stricken. Slughorn went about complimenting other children and peering into their potions. James, in particular, had this blackened potion which smelled like rotten eggs.

"Hermione…"

"I don't mind losing a few marks."

"But…"

"As long as you know how to make the potion, Lily," Hermione said. "You'll practice, won't you?"

He watched Hermione leave the room with her bag and belongings. She trailed behind the other Slytherins.

"Evans," he said to Lily. "I think we have to go to Charms."

She nodded at him.

A nagging thought struck Remus. He was deathly afraid of people finding out about about him. He would lag behind James and Sirius, who seemed like good enough blokes, but once a month, he'd crawl out the castle into that particular shack which Dumbledore graciously erected for him. He wouldn't know what to say if someone threw stones on him regarding being a werewolf.

But there were slurs of "mudblood" openly being hurled at Lily and the muggle-born members of their house. Most of them were Slytherin. While Sirius and James got mad, Remus found himself holding them back.

He didn't want trouble.

If Sirius was right about the house and their prejudice and bullying being part of their background, then where did that leave the other Evans twin?

It was a nagging thought, and he felt as if he didn't want to pick and prod at it, because that would make him angry. If it made him angry, he'd want to do something about it.

Remus realized that it wasn't very wise to throw stones from his glasshouse.

"Mister Malfoy?"

Lucius Malfoy blinked in the dark as the Professor's wand tip lit up his face. The surrounding portraits shielded their eyes. Some of them sent dirty looks and shouted at Slughorn to shut it off.

"My boy, what on earth are you doing out of bed?"

"I… I was just doing my rounds, Professor."

"Well, it's one in the morning, my boy," Slughorn said. "I do think you should have been in bed a few hours ago. What were you doing up?"

"I think I lost track of time," Malfoy replied. "The patrolling around."

"Ah, sometimes Hogwarts can be a pretty large school where the passages are confusing and make you lose sense of time. I myself found myself in one particular room which was full of Fire Whiskey bottles in my fifth year," Slughorn replied. "Well, off to bed with you."

Lucius Malfoy looked as if he wanted to say something more, but instead he looked terribly confused and strode off to the Slytherin dungeons all while running a hand through his sleek hair.

Slughorn stared after him, and then he continued to walk down the hallways leading down to the kitchens for a midnight snack.

Christmas came around, and Hermione and Lily came home. Petunia was absolutely delighted to see Hermione, but she ignored Lily. They got into a fight whilst their parents were outside for groceries. Hermione didn't remember what it was over, but she came down the stairs to see Lily and Petunia hollering at each other from across the room. Lily's eyes were bright with tears.

"Tuney," she said. "Do you really really hate me that much?"

"I…" Petunia stopped short of words, and she clenched her fists.

Lily sniffled, and Hermione took both of her sister's hands. She brought them together.

"I don't want to talk to her!" Petunia ripped her hand away.

"Why? Is this because of Sev?" Lily asked. "Are you still mad at me for summer?"

"Urgh! Is that dratted boy home for Christmas too? What are you going to do? Go run after him again?"

"I'm not!" Lily replied. "What is it to you? Sev is a nice boy, and he's my friend. I won't allow you to bad mouth him anymore." Her temper flared, and she walked past Petunia and bumped her shoulder. Petunia jumped back with a cry.

There was silence that filled the room, and Hermione looked between a stricken Petunia and then at a confused Lily. The look on Lily's face dawned into understanding. She blinked.

"You…"

"Get away from me!"

"Petunia," Lily tried weakly.

Petunia stormed out the room and out the backdoor, where Hermione presumed she was cooling her head. Lily made a move to follow her, but Hermione held her back.

"Hermy," Lily said. "Let me go after her. Let me clear up the misunderstanding. Let me tell Tuney that I'm not dangerous! I'm not... I'm not going to blow her up or anything!"

"You're not," Hermione said. "But you have to understand Petunia. She's scared and confused. The last person she'll listen to is you."

She eyed the kitchen door worriedly.

"What do we do? What do we do?"

"Go upstairs," Hermione told her. "I'll handle this."

Hermione walked out the kitchen and into the backyard where Petunia sat on one of the arm-chairs. Hermione took a seat beside her.

"Is it really horrible, Hermy?" Petunia asked. "Are the kids really mean? Because oh! Mum tells me that it's so amazing from all the letters that Lily sends her. Are you just lying to me to make me feel better?"

"I don't lie, Petunia," she said. "Lily has lots of friends, and I don't have any. Why would I like a place like that?"

"Why can't you make friends?" Petunia said. She stood up, and Hermione rummaged her pockets for a few coins. "You used to have friends at your old school. There was Steve Barns who had a bit of a crush on you, if I remember."

Hermione remembered Steve Barns throwing a crumpled paper at her, and Hermione had assumed that he was being a prat. She flung the crumpled paper into the bin.

"Tell me about your school," Petunia said.

"I need to talk to you about Lily," Hermione said.

"What about her?"

"Tuney."

She pulled Hermione up by the arm. "Let's go to the park."

"We still have to eat lunch," Hermione said. "Come. I hear Mum and Dad in the driveway."

While Lily went out with Severus, Hermione kept Petunia's mind on other things like on her hair. Hermione and Lily were fraternal twins. While Lily inherited her father's eyes and his hair, Hermione and Petunia got their mother's darker shade of brown and thick mane of curls which she kept tucked behind her ears. It didn't stand out, like Lily's red locks.

The mane of curls was familiar to Hermione, and she left it loose, usually barred by some barrettes or clips. Some part of her wondered if this was a carry over from Hermione Granger. Magical hair, perhaps? No one in their family had curly hair. Elizabeth theorized that it was her grandmother.

"You have beautiful hair," Petunia said. She twirled a finger around a curl, and she watched it spring back. "I wish I had hair like yours. Mine is so flat, and my lips are too thin, and I don't think I look pretty like Lily at all."

Hermione blinked for a few seconds. She slowly turned to look at Petunia, and she kneaded her fingers against her temples as if she felt an age-old headache. Girls were always so insecure about their looks. Boys always wanted to look at something pretty. Girls liked pretty boys. People liked shiny and beautiful things to ogle, but that was about it.

That was one of the things she missed the least about being a teenager, because it didn't matter how pretty you were when you were dead.

"Tuney," she said slowly. "You know that thing which mum says about little girls needing to be pretty and beautiful?"

Petunia nodded.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's rubbish."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's all in their heads."

Petunia didn't look completely convinced, but she did look slightly thoughtful. She dragged Hermione out the door after they were done playing with each other's hair. Elizabeth called out them to be back before Lunch, and Hermione assured her that they would be.

"Don't you think you're too old for the park?" Hermione chuckled.

"Mum won't let me go anywhere else," Petunia said in a small voice. "She said that I couldn't hang out with Eloise and Milly, because the two other girls spent a lot of time doing things which they shouldn't be doing for thirteen year old girls."

And the more Petunia talked, the more Hermione was reminded of how lonely she was without her sisters. It didn't help the situation either when nearly five minutes later, they found Lily and Severus hogging the swings.

Severus was in love with her sister, and Hermione wondered if this was something which prompted him to die for Harry years later. Her eyes. Lily's eyes. He sat there and listened with rapt attention as she spoke about this and that. Hades and Persephone.

Hermione grabbed Petunia's hands.

"Why don't we go to the other end, Petunia?"

Petunia grabbed her hands. "Hermione…" She looked at Hermione and her eyes pricked with tears. Hermione tugged her away gently away, and Petunia's eyes overflowed with tears.

"Lily used to be my friend," she said softly. "Ours. Not his."

"Yes," Hermione said. "I know."

"Hermione," Petunia squeezed her hand. "You're not going to leave me too, are you? I don't want to be alone all again. Milly and Eloise can be really mean sometimes, and they laugh at me and call me a cry baby."

In many ways, Hermione realized that she'd felt like Petunia sometimes whilst growing up. Girls were hard to be friends with, because they could be mean. She had a penchant for rules, books and mothering everyone else. It just so happened that she managed to become friends with two of the most incompetent boys, who let her feel better about her accomplishments.

But she rarely felt challenged.

When she fought with Ron and Harry, she lost all of that. They were close. Always closer. She felt like the outsider to their affairs, and even years later, when she'd broken up with Ron. Harry and Ron sent each other knowing glances.

Here she goes again.

"Do you think I'm a bad sister?" Petunia said. "I'm jealous of Lily and that boy. I don't care very much for him, because he looks very ugly and his hair looks as if he hasn't washed it in days. He seems like a mean boy too! But he likes her, and no one's ever liked me before."

Hermione sighed, and she reached over to hug Petunia.

"You don't need someone to fancy you, Petunia."

When the semester restarted, Malfoy had been feeling this itch in the back of his mind. It felt like he was forgetting something, and he wanted to buy a Remembrall. But with his N.E.W.T. exams coming up, his prefect duties, and his family's expectations on him to spy on Dumbledore, Malfoy assumed that it was just stress. Stress and sleeplessness.

He felt eyes on the side of his face.

Malfoy whipped his head around to see the mudblood engrossed in her textbooks. She was making meticulous notes of her potions. He watched slowly as Carrow walked over.

Carrow waved his wand, and the ink bottle spilled onto the parchment.

Evans looked down at the parchment wordlessly whilst the laughs erupted around the table.

Malfoy turned away and attempted to knead his headache into submission.

Hermione turned the black leather diary over her hands. She flipped it open and flipped through the yellowed but enchanted pages, and it smelled nicer than most old books. She took a bottle of ink from beside her and splattered the diary with ink.

The diary absorbed the ink, and the wet paper dried into crisp yellow paper. It made a nice sound when she turned the pages.

Hermione stared at the diary once more. She picked up her quill and began to write into the diary.

Hello.

Like smoke, the words began to seep into the surface, and Hermione summoned a blanket to wrap around herself.

Hello. My name is Tom Riddle. What's yours?

"Thank you, Lucius." She glanced up at the Imperiused boy. "This diary would be most useful. You may leave. You may go straight to bed, and you can never remember anything that happened in the morning."

In the Room of Requirement, which had cozy armchairs and tables set aside for Hermione, Lucius Malfoy stared back at her. His eyes were glazed over, and the candlelight danced across his skin. Hermione watched him move a second later.

Even if the Imperius didn't work, he was wandless.

"Obliviate." Just to be sure.

Hermione muttered a few spells after him, so that his watch remained perpetually at 7 P.M. He walked over to the entrance and shut the door behind him.

Hermione returned her attention back to the diary.

My name is Ginevra Ellens. What is this book?

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, and she lit the fireplace. She curled herself in the armchair.

It's my diary, he wrote back. And you've just happened to stumble upon it, Miss Ellens.

"Getting enough sleep, Lucius?"

"It's my bloody watch," Lucius told Evans Rosier. He tapped his wrist watch repeatedly with a frown. "It's stuck."

Hermione took a sip of her pumpkin juice, before one of the other kids could knock it over her homework. She felt exhaustion creep in like an old friend after a night spent well. That's when she felt a prick at the back of her neck.

It might have been an old instinctual feeling, because she had been through a war. It was like standing in the middle of an open field with your back to a raised wand.

She turned to see Albus Dumbledore watching her from the teacher's table. His pleasant smile yielded nothing, and his blue eyes had no twinkle.

Hermione turned away.

"Evans!" She heard through the blood pounding in her ears. "I took the liberty of spitting in your breakfast." Sickened, Hermione pushed her plate away, picked up her book bag and stuffed her books into the bag. "What's wrong, Evans?"

She heard Bellatrix laugh after her.

"What would Harry do?" Hermione asked herself frantically. She feverishly played with the strap of her bag, and then she got angry.

He'd run up to Dumbledore's office and bare his heart and all the secrets he'd been holding, whilst the old man stroked his beard and plotted.

Plots. The Order. Harry. She breathed deeply the chilly January air as she walked past an open window. Too much time wasted, and too many people involved in a chess game which Dumbledore played. Too many pieces on the board ended up getting decimated, because Dumbledore controlled the king from his grave.

It wasn't Dumbledore's fault alone. Everyone trusted him blindly enough to play right into his hands. They waited for the next move, considering themselves no wiser than the man who defeated Grindelwald.

Pettigrew would never betray the Potters.

Dumbledore was the only one who Voldemort ever feared. He knows what he's doing.

Harry had been just a teenager.

The question wasn't "What would Harry do?" but "What needs to be done?"