Hermione almost fell to the floor when she stumbled into a squishy piece of furniture as she wandered into the kitchen for a cup of tea, busy reading the new article about future travel. After catching her balance she looked down and oh-

That's not furniture.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off the inevitable headache. She was adjusting to life in this timeline, where she had been blown backwards during an experiment in the Department of Mysteries. It was just her luck that she had been screwed over by the Time Turners, the little devices that had made her third year at Hogwarts so memorable.

Hermione was not pleased with the way women were treated in the fifties, either in Muggle world or in the Wizarding one, which had been both behind and ahead of the times in various ways. She had struggled to make her way as an adult with no real background, doing her best not to disrupt the timeline in any meaningful way. She had read far too many science-fiction novels when she was a child.

Now that she was a respected researcher in the very same Department that had sent her back, Hermione felt like she was gaining a sense of equilibrium. She desperately missed her friends, but she had made some new ones, more or less voluntarily. If only she could get rid of this one troublesome problem, Hermione could get back to the journal article that had caught her eye. It was a promising venture that may be her ticket out of there.

She threw some floo powder into her fireplace and waited impatiently for the handsome face to appear. He smiled charmingly at her and she scowled.

"You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen."

His eyebrows pinched together in a moue of confusion. "But darling, didn't you mention that he was holding you back from promotion? I couldn't let that slide."

Hermione held onto her temper with what she thought was a remarkable fortitude. "Do not call me that. You can't just murder people, Tom."

His full mouth slanted into a grin and he nearly purred at her. "I think you'll find that I can do just that."

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "If I go on a date with you, will you stop with the creepy courting gifts? Please?"

His eyes were took in her defeated form with a gentle mirth that had consistently agitated her since the day they were introduced by a well-meaning colleague. "Only if you promise to endeavor to enjoy yourself. I'll not have a sulking dinner companion."

"Fine." Hermione waved a hand toward the body in her house. "Now get rid of that. I'm not about to get arrested by the Aurors because you have no concept of what's appropriate."

He stepped through the hearth and bowed to her with a flourish, kissing her hand with a smile. "Anything for you, my dear."

prompt for this one was "you need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen". i am just obsessed with time travel, apparently.