A/N: Hello there! It's been a hot minute since I've posted here, but I really wanted to take a jab at writing a James/Hermione.. or really just a Hermione/Marauders fic where she gets flung back to the first war. So with that being said, many apologies if at times the characters may seem a bit OOC for your liking, but I guess that's part of the beauty of trying new things, right? See what works and what doesn't... anyways, here we go! Hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Anything Harry Potter is not mine.

Her arm was burning.

Mudblood. That's what she carved into her arm. She convulsed, partly as an after effect of the cruciatus and partly as a distraction from the searing pain. A single tear rolled down the side of her face. The cackle that was Bellatrix's laugh rang through the room.

It will be worth it in the end. She kept telling herself that.

A few moments later she was able to register Harry and Ron's presence. They got out! They were going to get out of here!

Clink!

She looked up to see the image of a falling chandelier. It seemed to get larger and closer by the second. She turned her head towards Ron, exhaling for the last time.

"Hermione!"

Rolanda Hooch had just dismissed her first years when she heard a thud nearby. After waving the remaining training brooms to be put away, she turned towards where she heard the noise.

"Merlin," she whispered, running towards the unconscious body of an unknown woman.

Her clothes were covered in dirt and blood. Her left sleeve was bunched up above her elbow, the word "Mudblood" etched on her skin, still freshly dripping with blood. Her eyes were closed, lips partly open. She looked almost serene, as if she had just dozed off for a nap.

She tried her best to hold down the tears as she prepared to take the woman's body to the infirmary. She conjured a gurney and a simple sheet to cover her body as she transported her to be seen by Poppy. She said very little as she rushed her through the halls and to the infirmary.

"Headmaster," she greeted, trying to find a way to explain how she found an unknown woman on school grounds.

Dumbledore gave a slight nod. "Let's get her inside, shall we?" He allowed Rolanda to enter first before shutting the doors behind him.

"Poppy, we seem to have an unexpected guest," Dumbledore said, waving the nurse over to where Rolanda laid the body down.

Poppy came over, gasping slightly before removing the sheet to assess any injuries. She removed her clothing, revealing many scars – too many, for someone so young. Dumbledore dismissed Rolanda from the infirmary, offering to stay until their guest was stabilized. Poppy meticulously removed each piece of shattered glass that embedded itself onto her face, chest, and arms. Her breathing was shallow, but she was slowly coming to. The last wound she tried to heal was the one on her arm, but any attempt to heal did not yield any results.

"Headmaster," Poppy sadly said, trying again to heal the injury. "There are a few of these cuts I cannot heal."

Dumbledore looked over at the cuts Poppy was referring to. "These wounds must have been made by some kind of dark magic. We won't know unless the young woman can tell us what happened to her." The nurse gave a nod and bandaged what she could before retreating to her office.

It was nightfall by the time Hermione opened her eyes. She looked down and noticed she was not in the clothes she remembered wearing last. She looked around, her eyes growing wide as she realized where she was.

"Ah, I see you have awaken." She turned towards the voice, and was surprised to see none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Her mind ran a mile a minute trying to understand what was going on in front of her. On one hand, she's happy she survived Malfoy Manor in one piece and that she is somewhere where she knew she could feel safe. On the other hand, Albus Dumbledore was standing right in front of her, and she knew for a fact that he shouldn't be. Her mind momentarily went back to that horrible night.

"Forgive me sir, but what year is it?" Hermione asked, wanting to know if her conclusion as to why Dumbledore was alive is correct.

"1978," he replied.

Hermione let out a quick huff, trying to figure out how she woke up in 1978. Did she somehow activate her time turner? Is there some form of magic that was activated at Malfoy Manor? Was she actually dead, and this is her afterlife?

"I also wonder how you have managed to end up here, young lady," Dumbledore said, now realizing by her response that she is not from his time. He stepped forward from the foot of her bed so that he could sit next to her legs. With a slight wave of his hand, he cast a muffliato before proceeding.

"Your injuries were quite extensive and some, Poppy has discovered, seem to be made by dark magic," he started, frowning. "You seem to be so young to have amassed such scarring."

"You know the laws, Miss Granger." Dumbledore's warning replayed in her mind. She chose to stay silent, fearing that anything she would say would alter history (or future) as she knew it.

"When you are fully healed, I'd like you to come to my office, so that we may discuss your situation. Until then, Miss?"

"Hermione," she said softly. "Just Hermione."

Dumbledore smiled softly, the twinkle still flickering in his eyes. "Hermione." He waved his hand to cancel the muffliato charm before leaving the infirmary.

"That was a bad one, Moony," Sirius said, holding one side of Remus up while James was on the other. Peter was behind them,his right leg throbbing in pain from slamming into the wall.

Once a month, Sirius, James, and Peter sneak away to the Shrieking Shack to keep their young werewolf friend, Remus company during the full moon. Together, the four are known as the Marauders, and they are an unstoppable force when together.

Especially when they pull off their signature pranks throughout the year.

Tonight was especially taxing on them, though. The three boys were quite used to Remus in whatever condition he was in come each full moon, but tonight he was especially stubborn and restless. During the day, James noticed Remus was a bit more irritable, especially towards Sirius, who was oblivious to it all. When night fell and it was time for them to make their way to the Shrieking Shack, James had to play buffer between Sirius and Remus. Sirius couldn't keep his mouth shut and poor Remus just "had it up to here" with him.

Moony was finally able to vent his frustration and irritability towards Padfoot, the black dog being tossed around every now and then. Prongs huffed, scratching his antlers against a wall and periodically nudging the two when things were starting to get out of control. Wormtail skittered through the room, trying to dodge and get away from the other three large animals in the room. He was not successful, as he caught the end of Prongs hoof, which sent him launching into the nearest wall.

The Marauders took their special route to the infirmary, waving at Poppy as they laid Remus down in his usual bed. Poppy sighed, knowing she would be with this particular student for the next hour or two until he finally would agree to rest.

Sirius looked over two beds down. "Hey James, looks like Moony will have someone to keep him company," he said, pointing to the sleeping girl.

James looked over to who Sirius was pointing at, taken aback by what he saw.

The girl had chestnut brown curls surrounding her face, which looked like it had seen its share of hardship. Her face looked serene, but hardened, her brow slightly furrowing as she slept. Her chest rose and fell in a rhythm that matched his own.

"Does she even go here? I've never seen her around the halls," Sirius said, intrigued by the new face.

"Mr. Black," Poppy quietly hissed, shaking her head as she attended to Remus.

The remaining three Marauders said their goodbyes to the nurse before retreating to Gryffindor tower to get some rest. After several routine potions had been administered to the young werewolf, Poppy also took the quiet time to get some sleep.

The sun was rising as Hermione woke up. She felt better than the day before, most of the soreness gone, thanks to the potions she was instructed to take. She sat up, stretching her arms up above her head.

She saw movement in her peripherals, and quickly turned her head to see who was there. Her body went rigid, almost defensively, then immediately softened once she realized who was staring at her.

A young and tired Remus Lupin was looking at her, amazement and confusion in his eyes when he asked, "Do I know you?"