Disclaimer: I don't own it. So unfortunate, I know. But true. As always, reviews are love :)

Hermione Jean Granger was better than this. She shouldn't be allowing herself to be pandered to by some middle aged, balding, overweight man who thought that he was clearly the most interesting person in the world and Hermione, though fairly attractive and a war hero, was not capable of seeing that. But one had to give the poor man credit for trying. He was nearly forty-five and he had never been on a second date in his life. Of course, it probably had to do something with the fact that he still hadn't asked Hermione a question beyond his slightly panicked, "You're not allergic to shellfish, are you?" at the beginning of their date.

So, after he paid the bill with a flourish of his coin bag, and after he threw her what he probably thought was a winning smile, but actually was a blinding testament to the poor dental hygiene standards in the country, Hermione grabbed her clutch and attempted to leave as quickly as possible without seeming unnecessarily rude.

When she got back to 12 Grimwauld Place, she went into the kitchen where Harry and Ron were playing Wizard's Chess and Ginny was reading the latest copy of Which Witch magazine. Ron was very close to winning when Hermione came over and upended the board. Both of the boys let out outraged noises, but they were quickly drowned out by Hermione's raging.

"What. The. Hell. Makes. You. Think. I. Would. EVER. Date. A. Man. Such. As. Ralph. Marks?" she shouted at the pair. Ginny smirked into her magazine as she listened to the boys blanch.

"We thought that you would like him! Honest!" Harry said.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, because, you both are smart and-"

"Really smart, 'Mione," Ron interjected.

"And you both like shellfish and you're both, well, kind of..." Harry trailed off and looked at Ron for help.

"Sort of boring?" Ron said.

"Boring?" Hermione screamed. Ron whimpered and seemed to be trying to fold in on himself. "You're telling me that you think I'm boring?"

"In the best way possible," Harry said. He instantly regretted it when Hermione turned her gaze on him.

"And how would that be, Harry?" she said coldly.

"Like, in a nice way. You're easy to be around," he responded, shaking in fear.

Ginny started shaking with laughter and had to put her fist in her mouth to keep from guffawing out loud.

"So easy," Ron added. Ginny burst at this, and fell onto the table to dampen her mirth.

"And now you're calling me easy?" Hermione herself was beginning to enjoy herself, though she was thoroughly mad at the boys for setting her up with yet another middle aged boring man. Despite this, however, making Ronald Weasley uncomfortable was one of her favorite pasttimes.

"NO!" Ron shouted, turning bright red. "You're not easy, you're difficult!" He paused at her raised eyebrow. "I didn't mean that! I just... I meant that you're not a whore and you're pleasantly boring. And not easy."

Hermione shot him a look of disdain and then turned her back on the boys so she could crack a smile. That was one of the more idiotic things Ron had said that week. She left the room, patting Ginny's back on her way out.

On her way up the stairs, though, her smile faltered. She knew that the boys would often say things he didn't mean, and they did have her best intentions at heart, but... did they really think she was boring? Or that she would enjoy the company of equally boring older men? She didn't know where they got that impression, but it disturbed her a little bit. Even though they were extremely dense males, they were her closest friends and should know at least the type of person with whom she would want to spend time. Was she being too hard on these men they threw at her? Did they think that Ralph Marks was the best that she could do?

By the time Hermione got to her room, she was attempting holding back tears. She changed and got into her bed and started crying when she concluded that she would be the only person to ever occupy this space.

Remus Lupin was pacing on the other end of the house. He had a glass of firewhiskey in his right hand and a small velvet box in his left. He was beginning to think that it was finally time that he gave up on the past and propose to his long-time girlfriend, Nymphadora Tonks. She was a pleasant enough creature, if sometimes a little screechy. And he was beginning to lose his patience with waiting for the girl of his dreams to come back to him. He had spied her having dinner with someone earlier in the evening, which is what prompted him to go get his mother's ring from his parent's cottage in the country and the bottle of firewhiskey from the cabinet downstairs.

He really did enjoy Tonks' company. He could grow to love her someday. And she clearly wanted to marry him. She had spoken about it often, even asking him directly when he planned on popping the question. He usually just smiled tightly at her and told her if it was meant to be, it would be and that she should just let it alone for the time being. It was the safest thing to say. And despite the declarations Hermione had made to him twenty years ago, he seriously doubted she would feel the same when there was such an age gap. And no matter what he told himself or anyone else, he was just a little terrified of being alone.

So, he thought, as he downed the rest of his firewhiskey, he could marry Tonks. He would marry Tonks. Because the past doesn't really matter, and Tonks was here and she loved him and it would be so easy to just give in. And he was tired of waiting for the past.

Remus apparated to Tonks' apartment and let himself in.

"Tonks?" he shouted, "are you here?" She came out of her bedroom, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was her natural light brown.

"What, Remus?" she yawned.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, thrusting the velvet box into her hands. She opened the box and gasped at the emerald shaped diamond inside. Then she screeched.

"Of course!" She threw her arms around his neck and dragged him into the bedroom with her.

The next morning, while Hermione was making pancakes for the boys and herself, Tonks stormed into the kitchen. Upon seeing Hermione, she screeched again.

"Hermione! Guess what!"

Hermione, being the least sort of morning person in the world, grumbled into the pancake batter.

"Remus and I are getting married!" she shouted. Remus entered the kitchen looking completely hung over and caught Hermione's eyes. Hermione looked away quickly from the heated glance and flipped the pancake.

"Congratulations," she said to Tonks. She reached into the potions cupboard and poured three goblets of pumpkin juice, adding a hang over remedy to Remus' goblet. She handed it to him wordlessly. He took a drink and then thanked her quietly, sitting down at the table next to Tonks, who began chattering away about the wedding.

Hermione tuned her out as she thought about this new installment in her former professor and friend's life. She would be the last to admit that she had harbored a crush on the man since she was thirteen, and that living in a house with him didn't really help. She knew he would never look at her the way she sometimes looked at him. But that meant very little when she would occasionally see him without his shirt. She also allowed herself to look at him when he would read a book, with his fringe falling in his eyes and the small wrinkle of concentration between his brows. And that was not to mention his hands. They were large and he had absolutely beautiful fingers that cradled the book, or grasped a goblet, or very seldom drifted across piano keys. She suddenly found herself imaging him playing her with those gorgeous digits.

She shook herself quickly and blushed.

"Hermione," Remus said. She turned to look at him, blushing even deeper as she met his gaze. He smiled kindly, "Your pancakes are burning."

"Oh!" she said, flipping them off the griddle and onto a plate. "Boys!" she shouted, "Breakfast!"

The boys came down quickly, soon followed by Ginny. Tonks jumped up and told them the great news, flashing her ring to Ginny, who fawned over it. But when Tonks turned back to Remus, Ginny looked over at Hermione. She wasn't very surprised when Hermione excused herself without eating anything, claiming to not be hungry. She didn't say anything to draw attention to it, though, and just sat down next to Harry and kissed his cheek and began breakfast.

Hermione was not feeling very well. She knew that it was just a silly schoolgirl crush, but for some reason, finding out Remus Lupin was going to be married was not happy news. She thought about Ralph Marks again. She had spent the evening comparing him to Remus, on some level. It was unhealthy and she needed to stop being ridiculous. Remus Lupin was marrying Tonks, clearly he didn't have any feelings for Hermione, and he never would. She needed to stop thinking about him as anything other than her former professor and friend.

"I wish I could be somewhere else. Anywhere but here," she whispered as her eyes drifted closed. She opened her eyes. She was still in Grimwauld Place and she could still hear the voices of her friends behind her.

She sighed because she knew that magic didn't actually work that way. One can't just wish themselves away. She heard Harry laugh at something in the kitchen. Hermione was suddenly exhausted. She sighed again and slowly ascended the stairs to her room. She was going to spend the day in bed.

Hermione awoke when someone shouted in her ear. She glared at her newest enemy and buried her tear-streaked face in her pillow. She had been crying, once again, because she was a boring wretch that was going to die a spinster and own twenty cats that would eat her body, and nobody would care that she was dead because she was pleasantly boring. Yes, she was once again allowing herself to have yet another pity party in under twenty-four hours. She had withstood losing her parents, Dumbledore, Sirius, and so many others to the war. She was allowed to cry every once in awhile.

The person yelled again. Instead of being an unintelligible shout, it was a clearly articulated shout. "What are you doing here?" the person shouted.

"Harry, for bloody hell, just leave me alone." Hermione grumbled into her pillow.

"Who are you?" the person said. Hermione growled at Har- Who was she? She looked up and quickly grabbed for her wand on the nightstand. Her hands came up short and she let out a scream when she looked into the face of Sirius Black.

"But, but you're dead!" she exclaimed. Sirius blanched and looked down at himself.

"I don't think I'm dead, Birdie. Why are you in my parent's guest room?"

"Guest room? I live here," Hermione said. Sirius chuckled.

"Do the grand Mr. and Mrs. Black know that? Because I'm pretty sure they'd throw you out on your pretty little ass."

"Mr. and Mrs. Black?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, my parents. They're the owners of the Noble House of Black," he said sarcastically. "Which is where you are currently. Want to explain, Birdie?"

"Stop calling me that," Hermione muttered. She was in the guest room of the Black's house, Sirius was alive and he looked younger than she had ever seen him, he didn't seem to recognize her, and she was in his pajamas. She stood immediately and started pacing the room. "How did I get here?" she asked aloud.

"I have no idea, Birdie," Sirius responded, a smirk on his face.

"I have to see the headmaster of Hogwarts," Hermione said quickly. She quickly turned on the spot and found herself in Hogsmeade. She started running toward the castle and tripped when she stepped on a rock. "Damn," she muttered, gripping her bare foot.

She looked around for a shoe store. But then she looked down and realized she had no pockets and no money. She would just have to transfigure something into shoes... which she could have done if she had her wand. "Damn it!" she hissed as she started her way to Hogwarts sans footwear.

Hermione got to the castle in a decent amount of time with only a few foot injuries. She walked through the halls to the headmaster's office.

"Lemon drop," she said evenly to the gargoyle. It didn't budge. "Uhm, Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean?" Nothing. "Licorice Snaps?" The gargoyle didn't even blink. "I don't know the stupid password, but I need to see Professor McGonagall, or Professor Dumbledore, or somebody who can tell me what the hell is going on!" The gargoyle seemed to be enjoying her distress.

She began pacing and naming every candy she could think of, from Mars bars to Chocolate Frogs, but nothing worked. Eventually, she sat down next to the gargoyle.

"He has to come out eventually," she muttered to the stone creature.

She was right, however, Professor Dumbledore (who was, like Sirius, inexplicably alive) did not come out of his office for three hours, at which point, Hermione had dozed off against the wall.

"Excuse me, miss," he said, shaking her awake. "May I help you?" Hermione stretched and rubbed her eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said, looking up at him.

"Yes?" he asked, his eyes twinkling as he helped her to her feet.

"My name is..." she paused. Before she had fallen asleep, she had entertained the possibility that she might have traveled to a different time. However, her only two pieces of evidence were the living specimens that were very much dead in her own time and the fact that Sirius had just looked so very younger than she had ever known him to be. But if she was in the past, would it be detrimental to her time if Dumbledore knew who she was? She knew the rules of time travel. You must not be seen. There is nothing you can do to change the past, so you must not try.

But if anyone in any time could help her, it was Dumbledore.

"My name is Hermione Granger, sir, and I really need to speak with you in private," Hermione said, looking at Dumbledore's twinkling eyes.

"Of course," Professor Dumbledore said, turning back to the gargoyle. "Skittles," he said. It sprang aside.

"Skittles, sir?" Hermione asked.

"I do indulge myself from time to time in Muggle candy," Dumbledore said. Hermione smiled.

"Please sit down," Professor Dumbledore said as he lowered himself in his chair behind his desk. "And now, my dear, what is it you wished to discuss?"

"I think- I'm not sure, mind you, but I'm starting to think that I may have time traveled a fair distance into the past," Hermione said, looking at her interlocked fingers.

"Well, that is certainly something I haven't heard before," Professor Dumbledore said, chuckling. "What makes you think you've traveled into the past?"

"I have run into a couple of people I know to be dead," Hermione stated. "and one of them was significantly younger looking that I had ever seen him."

"What date is it where you're from?" Dumbledore asked after a moment.

"1999," Hermione said.

"Today is August twenty-first, 1979, my dear," Professor Dumbledore said. "I suppose you're no longer unsure about whether or not you've time-traveled?"

"No, sir," Hermione said, still not looking at him.

"I wonder," Dumbledore paused until Hermione looked up at him, "would you like a lemon drop?" he asked, offering her a bowl of the yellow candy. Hermione shook her head.

"How did I get here?" she asked him after a moment of silence.

"My dear, I have no idea. I have never heard of such a leap in time," Dumbledore said. Hermione's eyes instantly started tearing up. If Dumbledore didn't know, he couldn't fix it, which meant she'd told him she was from the future for nothing. And if his knowing about her caused something to change in her future, she may have changed the outcome of the war, or even worse...

"What were you doing in 1999 before you came here?" Dumbledore asked her.

"What?" she said, pulling herself out of her internal meltdown. "Oh, I was moping about and I decided to spend the day in bed and then I woke up here." Hermione felt a spark of hope. "Is this an elaborate dream?" Dumbledore smiled.

"I'm afraid not, dear. Anything else? Did you use a time-turner recently? Or come across anything unusual at all?"

"No, I just made breakfast for Har- for a couple of friends and then went back to bed," Hermione said.

"Did you perhaps think a particular incantation while you were 'moping around'? Something that could allow you to travel twenty years?" Dumbledore asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Nothing like that," she said.

"Well, then, I am at a loss for now. Perhaps we can each do some research on time travel and figure out what is going on with you with a little more time." Hermione nodded in assent. "Until then, I'm guessing you'll need a place to stay?"

"Erhm, yes," Hermione said. She hadn't really thought about that.

"The school term starts in a few days. If you would like to attend school, you are most welcome to it. We can get you robes and books from the school's collection. Hogwarts, as a rule, usually does not allow students to transfer in, but I think we can make an exception for you. How old are you, dear?" Dumbledore asked.

"Seventeen," Hermione said.

"We can go ahead and put you in seventh year, then," Dumbledore continued. "I think instead of making you sit through a sorting with eleven year olds, you would just prefer to be put in your future house?" Hermione nodded. "Which is...?" Dumbledore prompted when she didn't offer her house.

"Gryffindor," she said.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together. "I can go ahead and have some house elves send up some robes and books to Gryffindor tower. Now, I think we may need to speak to Professor McGonagall about your class schedule." Professor Dumbledore rose, and offered his hand to Hermione.

"Professor, what will we tell people? Surely they'll want to know where I'm from?" Hermione said.

"If you are agreeable, we could tell them that you are my niece and your parents were in an accident so you are now coming to Hogwarts to finish your education under my watchful eye." Dumbledore offered.

"That sounds good, thank you," Hermione said.

Professor McGonagall didn't ask questions, even though Hermione knew that McGonagall was aware Dumbledore was not her uncle. She only nodded once when Dumbledore introduced Hermione.

"What classes would you like to take for your seventh year, Ms. Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked when Dumbledore excused himself from the room.

"I was training to be an Auror, and I'm an excellent student," Hermione said. Professor McGonagall nodded once and wrote up a schedule for her. "Does this schedule look agreeable?" Professor McGonagall asked once she finished. Hermione looked it over.

"Would it be possible to add Arithmancy?" Hermione asked. McGonagall nodded and made the appropriate adjustments. Hermione thanked her and excused herself. She liked Professor McGonagall, and didn't want to lie to her, no matter how important it was. It still felt shameful and made her stomach clench uncomfortably to see McGonagall knowingly accept her lies.

Hermione took a deep breath once she was in the corridor and headed for the Gryffindor tower. She reached the Fat Lady and was once again brought up short. Here was another part of Hogwarts she couldn't unlock because she didn't know the password.

"Hermione?" Professor Dumbledore asked as he was striding up the corridor toward her, two house elves following him, their arms laden with robes. "I realized you probably wouldn't be able to get into Gryffindor tower without a password, so I am here to implore the dear Lady of this magnificent portrait to tell you said password and allow you passage," Dumbledore winked at Hermione as the Fat Lady swooned under such praise.

"The password is 'absconce'," the Fat Lady said.

"Thank you, my dear Lady," Professor Dumbledore smiled as the Fat Lady blushed. "Hermione, here are your robes," he said, gesturing to the house elves. "Your books will be along shortly. The seventh year female dormitory is the highest dorm to the left. I think you'll find it suitable." Hermione nodded and thanked him, entering the Gryffindor common room.

It was almost identical to the common room she had grown up with, except the furniture was a little less worn. She went up to her room and found it outfitted with three four-poster beds that were each surrounded by heavy curtains. Only one of the three beds has dressings on them, the one by the window. Hermione smiled to herself. She was glad she didn't have to fight the other girls for this bed, it was clearly the best location in the room.

"Excuse me miss," a tiny voice said from the doorway. Hermione turned and was greeted by a small house elf with her books. She smiled at the creature. "My name is Windy, miss, and I have your books, if it pleases you." Hermione's heart broke a little at Windy's sincerity.

"I'll go ahead and take those, Windy," Hermione said kindly, taking the books offered by the elf and setting them on her bed. "Thank you very much, Windy," she said to the house elf. Windy smiled and bowed her head low.

"Is there anything else Windy can do for you, miss?" she asked.

"No, Windy, thank you," Hermione said. Windy nodded and bowed herself out of the room.

Hermione turned back to the window. Dumbledore seemed to believe that she would be stuck here for awhile, at least until they could find a way to get her back to her time. She turned away from the window and started toward the library. If it was up to her, she would be getting out of here sooner rather than later.

Should I keep going? Trash it? Let me know with a review or a PM :)