Author's Note: This is another short chapter. This is my first fan fiction based on canon (I usually write pop band fan fiction) so I'm trying really hard to make it as close to perfect as possible. In fact, I'm kind of paranoid about it. In other news, though, I sketched out chapter three while I was at work today and it looks like it might be a decent length. Check out my author page for a cute graphic I made to go along with my story!

Hermione awoke with a start as she found herself on the floor in the doorway between the library and the hallway. Breathing heavily, she reached to the chain hanging around her neck. "Shit!" she whimpered, touching the broken glass of the time turner. As she stood, she surveyed her surroundings and found nothing different from before she fainted—she began to wonder if it had all been a terrible hallucination.

She started down the hallway toward Dumbledore's office when she saw Harry run past, laughing hysterically with a boy she didn't know. "Hey Harry, wait up!" she called after her best friend. Harry turned around and gave her a rather condescending look and kept walking.

"It's past curfew you know! Don't forget that I'm a prefect!" she yelled, slightly shocked at Harry's dismissive attitude.

"Yeah? And I'm Headmaster," Harry replied as his dark haired friend shook with muffled chuckles.

Furious, Hermione watched as Harry and his friend rounded the corner toward Gryffindor tower. As she pondered Harry's behavior, she began walking to Dumbledore's office. When she reached it, she gave the current password. "Fizzing Whizbee," she said to no avail as the gargoyle remained firmly in place.

Frustrated at the Headmaster for changing his password, she began to shout the names of other candied confection. "Acid Pops." The gargoyle remained frozen. "Cockroach Cluster," said Hermione as the gargoyle leered down at her. Dejected, she sighed, "Chocolate Frog" as the gargoyle shifted to let her pass.

She made her way into Dumbledore's study, finding him reading The Daily Prophet, pretty much useless dribble with a Ministry spin that seemed very unlike the Dumbledore she knew. "Excuse me, professor," she said determinately, holding the broken time turner in her hand.

"Well, hello," Dumbledore replied, peering down his crooked nose at her, "What are you doing out wandering around past curfew?"

"Sir, I was on prefect duty when I noticed something funny…" she trailed off.

"Prefect duty? Now that's quite a clever tale," he answered.

"Sir, I found a time turner on a table in the library. Madam Pince can vouch for me, Sir." Hermione couldn't believe that Dumbledore doubted her.

"Madam Pince?" Dumbledore asked, a stern look on his face.

"Sir," Hermione began to protest as a wave of realization suddenly came upon her, "What's the date today?"

"Why, it's the 17th of November, 1976. But I don't see what this has to do with…" Dumbledore began.

"19—19—1970—1976?" Hermione stuttered, most of out of her ordinary courage, "That's what I was afraid of."

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