Hermione awoke to a heated whispered conversation above her head. She kept her eyes closed and pretended to be asleep. She caught a few names here and there. Well, she thought they were names. They were very odd and might have been nicknames. Moony? Padfoot?

Her eyes went wide and she sat up straight in bed, scaring the boys half to death. She stared at each of them for a good thirty seconds.

There were three of them. The one immediately to her left was rather lanky looking. His eyes were as brown as his hair. He was giving her a rather concerned look, though she couldn't tell whether he was concerned about her specifically or if he was concerned she woke up and caught them. The other two boys sat casually at the foot of her bed. They both had dark, dark hair. One wore glasses and had hair sticking out all over the place. Curiosity radiated off him in waves. The other boy had long hair that he clearly took pride in. Everything about him screamed player.

Finally, she said hoarsely, "Where is the boy I came here with?"

The three boys exchanged a look. The messy haired one said, "He's in the bed across the hall. What's your name?" He was practically bouncing from his place on her bed.

She didn't bother to answer. She just threw off the covers and swung her legs to the side. She was stopped by the brown haired boy's hands on her knees. Her head came up in defiance. "Remove your hands," she said coolly. He was positive she would use violence if pushed the wrong way, so he slowly backed up.

"I think you should rest some more before you get up and start gallivanting around," said the boy with the pretty hair. She absently noted that had she been any other girl, she would have been distracted from finding Fred fairly quickly by his handsome features.

But she was not any other girl. She was Hermione Granger. And Lockhart aside, Hermione Granger did not get distracted by pretty boys. She had been on the run for more than three years. She had fought in a war. Pretty boys didn't really mean much to her any more.

She pushed herself to her feet and ignored the comment. Slowly, she shuffled and hobbled her way to the door. Just as she was about to reach it, she was suddenly floating as the messy haired boy picked her up and carried her back to her bed. Unfortunately for Hermione and fortunately for the boy, she was still weak from the fighting and the healing. She twisted and struggled and made him work to get her back though.

Once she was firmly held down, the brown boy flicked his wand and ropes came out and bound her to the bed. "You need rest," the pretty boy said. She glared at them as she fought the panic that was rising within her. She fought the anxiety off doubly hard when she realized they had her wand.

When she opened her mouth, the boys thought they were about to be scolded. She seemed like the scolding type. She didn't even address them, however. In fact, she ignored them completely as she screamed, "FRED!" as loudly as she could.

A giant thump could be heard two seconds before a door slammed open. In burst Fred, wand drawn. His eyes swept the room and assessed the situation. Hermione, roped to the bed. Three boys who obviously put her there and who also had their wands out. His instincts took over and he sent stunning spells at all of them as he moved towards Hermione.

Madame Pomfrey stormed in, demanding to know what was going on in her hospital wing. Fred, still shielding Hermione, tensed and immediately cast a shield spell while hurriedly whispering to the girl. The nurse, seeing that the four boys were out cold, kept her hands where Fred could see them.

Interrupting their whispered conversation, Madame Pomfrey said quietly, "Since you're awake, I can give you the bone regrowth potion as well as a dreamless sleep potion."

Hermione shook her head. "I'll take the bone regrowth, but no sleep potions. They won't work on me." She took a deep breath. "Fred, take down the shield." He did so somewhat begrudgingly. "I- we need to see Professor Dumbledore as soon as possible."

The nurse smiled. "My dears, I've already sent for him. Now drink this and let's get that leg of yours fixed." She turned to Fred. "If you wouldn't mind releasing them?" She phrased it as a question, but it really wasn't a question at all. Fred waved his wand at the boys and sat next to Hermione as they waited for Dumbledore.

. . . .

When the headmaster finally arrived with Professor McGonagall, the boys were seated along the wall. They watched Hermione and Fred, who were ignoring them and watching the door, while the nurse watched the boys to make sure they behaved. McGonagall dragged the three off while Dumbledore settled down to listen as Hermione thought quickly about what she was to say.

"Sir, our names are Fred and Hermione, and I'm afraid I can't answer any questions you have until you've answered mine."

Dumbledore eyed the young pair. The girl, Hermione, looked so small and frail in the giant bed. There were dark shadows under eyes. He couldn't tell much of her condition due to the layers of dirt still coating her person. The boy, Fred, stood by her side, silently giving his support as she spoke. He seemed to trust the girl completely. Dumbledore wasn't certain why he felt that was the truth, but he had learned to trust his instincts when it came to situations like this.

"Alright," he said finally. "You may ask what you will, and after you have the information you need, we'll continue this talk later when you're completely healed."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Thank you, sir. I only have a couple questions." She took a deep breath. "Who were those boys who were just here?"

The principal frowned. "Miss, I can hardly see how that-"

"Please, sir," Fred interrupted. "She wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

Once again he studied them. Her face was pale and his was expressionless. They looked almost as though they were dreading his answer. "James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black. They're rather infamous here for their various pranks and mischief making. In fact, their little group is called-"

"The Marauders," Fred and Hermione said simultaneously. Their gazes locked in shock and resignation. Hermione said very quickly, "Professor, what is the date?"

Fred's eyes were staring into hers as they heard the wizard say, "September 1st". Only, instead of the 1990s like they hoped, it was 1977.

"Master, that is all I needed to know, thank you," Hermione said shakily. Unbeknownst to her, her hands had reached up to clutch at Fred's shirt. His hands automatically came up and his thumbs began rubbing soothing circles on her knuckles.

"We'll come see you as soon as Hermione feels up to it," Fred said calmly. Outside, he appeared to be slightly stunned, but inwardly he was reeling.

Dumbledore nodded gravely and stood. "I'll send Miss Evans to check on you tomorrow evening. Rest well." And with that, he left.

Fred sank onto the bed next to her. "Hermione. We're twenty years in the past. How did that even happen?" Hermione shook her head and hugged him tightly.

"I don't know," she whispered. They sat in silence for a few moments as they both tried to wrap their minds around what happened to them.

Suddenly, she grabbed his arm. Her face was pale and her eyes were bright. "Fred. You said that we were hit with a spell and then a wall right?"

"Yeah, why?"

She fished around in her shirt for a moment. Triumphantly, she held up a black and broken necklace. "This must be why we're back in the 1970s."

"I'm glad you figured it out, but once again, I have no idea what you're talking about."

She rolled her eyes. "It's a time turner, Fred."

Fred didn't want to believe it, but Hermione was rarely wrong about such things. "Does that mean that we're stuck here?"

Hermione shrugged slightly. "I'm not sure. As far as I know, these things were only supposed to go back twenty-four hours. I guess the spell must have messed with the mechanics of it though." She frowned. "We can't tell anyone we're from the future."

Fred snorted. "Of course not. Who'd believe that? But what'll we tell Dumbledore?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I don't think we should tell him. They barely know anything about the war yet. We can just say we merely accidentally apparated here." She wrinkled her nose. "We do look rather frightful. No one's going to question it if we say we couldn't focus in the middle of the fight."

"And what fight would that be? We can't tell them it was against Death Eaters. We'd mess up the timeline if that were to happen."

"Rogue wizards maybe?" Hermione suggested.

Fred shrugged. "Sure." He ruffled her hair. "We're going to have to change our appearances, you know." He twirled a long curl around his finger.

"I'll cut mine and put some highlights in. You can make yours a slightly different shade of red. After we both shower, we'll see how many scars from the dark magic we have and then decide if we want to bother with glamour charms the entire time we're here."

"Sounds good to me," Fred answered as a giant yawn escaped Hermione. "You better get some sleep. We can work out the details tomorrow."

. . . .

"Why don't you stay here and become the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professors?" Dumbledore suggested.

"WHAT?!" Hermione and Fred both exclaimed in shock.

"From what you've told me, you're both very qualified, in fact, perhaps overly qualified for the position. And it would give you a place to stay for the time being."

Hermione and Fred stared at each other and then at Dumbledore. Hermione rubbed her temples. "Sir, we literally just told you we're on the run, and now you wish to hire us as professors, even though neither of us finished our education?"

"Sir, you don't even know our skill level! We were a bloody mess when we arrived! We could be terrible at dueling!" Fred added, sounding slightly panicked at the end.

Seeing as the two did have a few points, Dumbledore put his hands together and tapped his fingers as he thought. Hermione and Fred sat patiently, though slightly anxiously, as they waited the principal's decision.

"What if you were to stage a mock duel between the two of you for the other teachers and students to see?"

Hermione's face hardened. "With all due respect, sir, I was trained to fight in a war. The hexes and jinxes that I know are not the sort innocent students should be taught. If you were to place either of us in a duel, our instinct would be to immediately take out the enemy. By any means necessary," she said.

Though she spoke quietly, Dumbledore could tell there was steel in her voice. She would not budge on this. He turned to Fred. "And what about you? Do you think the same?"

"Yes, sir," Fred answered immediately. His harsh tone did not match the light expression on his face. "I will not be responsible for putting into students' heads the idea to look up dark curses." He rubbed a hand tiredly over his face and slunk down in his seat.

Dumbledore clapped slowly. Hermione and Fred looked at him in surprise. "I think you will do fine as teachers here. You have more experience than the past five DADA teachers had all together. And your answers told me far more about you than I had hoped." He stood up from his desk. "Your first class is in a week."

And with that, he strode from the room, leaving a perplexed duo wondering what the heck just happened.