Chapter 2

Hermione secretly hoped that Umbridge hadn't found a way to escape the Centaurs and make it back into Hogwarts, but just to be safe she was going to creep through the shadows until she could ascertain what exactly was occurring in the old castle. Sticking to dark alcoves and shaded archways she crept into and through the castle. Something was off, but for a moment she couldn't put her finger on what exactly it was. As she crept past the doors to the Great Hall it occurred to her like a thunderclap and left her momentarily stunned. No one was in the castle! She'd never seen Hogwarts so quiet before. Where was everyone? When the DA had left just a couple hours ago, was it even that long?, all the students had still been here. Something was terribly wrong, and Hermione had to find out what that was.

Clutching her wand close to her chest she slunk stealthily towards the Headmaster's office, sticking to the shadows still, just in case. Searching the surrounding area as carefully as possibly she finally stepped out into the open to stand in front of the gargoyle that guarded the steps to the Headmaster's office. She immediately started flinging quiet words at it to see if any of them caused it to open, "Chocolate Frogs, lemon drops, Fizzing Whizzbess, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands…" She was starting to wonder if maybe the dotty old man had changed the password to something un-sweet related before he had fled and then snorted at the thought, no he liked his sweets way too much, "Droobles Best Blowing gum, Treacle Tart, Cockroach Clusters, ah ha!" She crowed triumphantly when the gargoyle moved to let her pass after she said "Cockroach Clusters". She darted to the stairs and took them two at a time in her haste. Finally she stood in front of the Headmaster's door. She felt rude just throwing spells at the door to try and open it, even if the Headmaster had been gone for awhile, so, as stupid as she felt doing it, she knocked 3 times on the hard wood. And to her absolute shock a deep voice called out, "Come in!" and the door swung open.

Hermione grabbed hold of the door frame to keep from collapsing when she saw Professor Dumbledore sitting peacefully behind his desk, his blue eyes twinkling at her questioningly. Besides the fact that he wasn't even supposed to be here, was the fact that he looked younger, with a shorter beard and a few less lines on his aged face. Merlin's saggy underpants! What was going ON?!

"My dear," Professor Dumbledore intoned kindly, "You look as if you have seen a boggart. Do come have a seat and tell me what troubles you." He gestured to the seats in front of his desk and calmly poured another cup of tea.

Hermione stumbled forward out of instinct more than anything and collapsed in one of the armchairs facing the Headmaster. She realized she was staring at him with wide eyes and a face that was probably white as a sheet but she couldn't seem to command herself to snap out of it. In the end it took Professor Dumbledore "tut tutting" worriedly and placing a warm cup of tea in her hand to get her to blink owlishly and come back to the present.

"Professor," she gasped, leaning forward in her seat, as soon as the ability to use her voice had returned. "Why are you back? Did the ministry reinstate you? Did you see Harry? And Ron? And where is everybody? And did you do something with your beard?" The words all tumbled out one on top of the other until she stopped abruptly as she realized the ridiculousness of her last question and decided she was probably becoming hysteric. She spent the next few seconds gulping in mouthfuls of air and attempting to calm her fluttering pulse. Once she could breathe a bit again she took a calm sip of tea and looked over the rim of the teacup at the Headmaster with poise as if she hadn't just about hyperventilated.

Professor Dumbledore was staring at her with an expression somewhere between worried, alarmed and amused. "My Dear," he finally said calmly, "I'm afraid you are going to have to start at the beginning, and maybe one question at a time. I confess I am rather confused about some of what you asked me." He tilted his head just the slightest bit to the side with a curious expression in his eyes while he waited for her to respond.

Hermione shut her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Carefully she leaned forward and placed the teacup back on the Headmaster's desk. Her mind was whirring and she was carefully sorting through her thoughts to find which question was most important to ask right at the moment. Upon finally picking the one she felt was most relevant she looked back up at the Professor and said in a calm voice that belied the turmoil inside, "Professor, why is the castle empty of students?"

Dumbledore raised both eyebrows in surprise and chuckled, "Why, my dear, because it is August. The Summer holidays you know. Which is also making me curious as to why you are here and who exactly you might be."

And Hermione turned white as a sheet again, entirely ignoring the last thing he had said in favor of focusing on the first thing. August?! NO! It couldn't be August. It was June! Had she actually been dead, suspended in time? What had happened? Her next question seemed the most logical to her, "Sir, what year is it," her voice was small and almost breathy as she pushed the words out into the air between them.

Dumbledore looked at her keenly for a moment and then responded quietly, "It is the year 1976. The 18th of August to be precise."

Hermione gripped the arms of the chair with white knuckles and tried to remember how to breathe. Her ears were ringing and her head was hot but the rest of her was curiously cold and she couldn't quite make her body respond to her commands. Her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest and she vaguely wondered in the back of her mind somewhere, where thoughts still seemed to be processing, if she was having a panic attack. 1976 1976 1976 was running through her mind like a refrain, or maybe a death knell. It might as well be a death knell, some part of her moaned.

And then Dumbledore was in front of her, gently prying her hands off of the arms of the chair and holding them between his own thin, wrinkled hands. "My dear child," he soothed, trying to meet her wide, staring eyes, "I believe I begin to understand the predicament you find yourself in. You are from the future, are you not?" Hermione didn't respond, still lost inside herself somewhere. Dumbledore sighed. "I don't know how you came to be in this time, but we will do our best to find out how this may have happened. Come my dear, and have some more tea, it will help."

Hermione snapped back to the present with a gasp as the warmth of the cup of tea that was placed gently into her hands managed to penetrate the shock for a moment. Her head jerked to the side and she stared wide eyed at Dumbledore. "Professor," she breathed, "I'm from 1996, June of 1996. How am I here?! Why am I here?! There were no timeturners, although…" She inhaled sharply, "we WERE in an office of the Time room…and Dolohov, his spell and mine must have connected, because I'm not injured and if it hit me I would definitely be injured. It didn't look like a pleasant spell. Could the mixing of the spells, coupled with the presence of the time room do this? Send me back 20 years?! And if that is how I got back here, then how do we reverse it? How do we return me to my time? Oh Merlin, we can't, can we? No one has ever traveled forward in time without disastrous consequences! I'm stuck here, aren't I? Without Harry, without Ron, Ginny, Neville….oh, NO!" And she burst into tears, pressing the tea cup back into Dumbledore's hands she buried her face in her hands and sobbed as if her heart would break. Because honestly, it was, breaking into a million pieces.

Dumbledore sat back on his heels and sighed. He placed the abandoned tea cup back on his desk and wearily ran the palm of his hand over his eyes. Honestly, the girl was right, there was most likely no way to send her back. Her own time line was probably destroyed already simply by her sitting in front of him now, if the majority of time research was true. If she did somehow find a way back she would end up in a timeline so very different from the one she left she probably wouldn't recognize it. That is, if she made it back. Much of the research pointed to the possibility that if you tried to return to your future after traveling back in time you would simply become lost in the ether and end your existence altogether, or else age rapidly and die of shock. But of course, no one was really sure and it was just best not to meddle with time and simply let things play out as they would.

The Headmaster pulled himself gingerly to his feet, stretched his legs from their cramped position and walked carefully back around his desk, sinking gratefully down into the soft cushions of his chair. He rested his elbows on the arm rests and steepled his fingers, looking over them at the poor weeping girl with the wildly curly hair. He sighed gently and readied some placating words to say to her once she quit sobbing all over herself and the chair. He was going to have some questions for her as well, he couldn't let this opportunity to know how the future may turn out, pass him by.