Disclaimer: Not mine! Harry Potter and Co. are strictly J.K. Rowling.

A/N: I have now fixed the review option to allow anonymous reviewers, so please do so! Thanks to Silenzioso Lupo for the tip. You guys have no idea how much it means to me Now on with the story.

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'Ow!' Quickly followed by 'Oh Noooo!' were Hermione's immediate thoughts after Voldemort's curse. Hermione's pain at being stabbed by the sharp shards was put momentarily on hold as she tried desperately to explain to Harry before it was too late that Voldemort had broken her time-turner (which Harry had no idea she had recently been given one again by Dumbledore before his death) with his curse. She never got the chance, however, as the time-turner's gold dust took almost immediate effect.

"Ha---," she began, but was quickly cut off as her whole world suddenly reversed just like a tape being rewound. Her body shook under the enormous pressure of moving rapidly through time, almost buckling under the strain that she never experienced during her third year; then it was hours, now decades. Hermione's eyes grew wide like saucers as she watched tens of thousands of people zoom past, almost indistinguishably from one to the next. Her mind grew dizzy and her stomach lurched from watching the whirlwind parade of people.

'Please don't let me throw up on top of all this', Hermione groaned mentally, thinking that everything that could possibly go wrong was. After what seemed like ages (and actually was) her body finally was freed from the unbearable stress from time, and she couldn't help but immediately fall over on her back-

Only to immediately jump up again. She was hurting, bleeding, disorientated, heartbroken, wet (with her own blood), and now she wasfreezing on top of that as she discovered herself in 2 feet of pure white snow. She looked around wildly with a scream ready at her lips when she saw four figures looking black against the snow that were moving rapidly towards her from all around her. She reached for her wand expecting the worst, only to discover it wasn't there. 'Well… that figures,' she thought bitterly, and as suddenly as it came, the fight went out of her. She was freezing in the snow and, having no idea where she stopped in time, she was at the mercy of whoever was approaching her.

"Bloody hell! James! Remus! Hey Peter, get over here, quick!" Hermione whipped around to face the owner of the excited voice coming from behind her when she suddenly got dizzy again. She put a hand up to cover her dizzy eyes, her left going automatically to cover her stomach protectively. She promptly sat down in the snow again, careless of her less than desired attire, wishing desperately for the horrible spinning to stop. Her instincts had forced her to stand up automatically to avoid the frigidly cold fluff, but now her mind insisted she sit or risk forsaking her biscuits.

"Are you ok? Where the hell did you come from? Who are you? Do you go to school here? I've never seen you before. What happened to you?" Hermione clenched her hands tighter to her eyes and stomach, wishing she could put her hands to her ears instead to block out the anxious male voice firing questions at her.

"Sirius, calm down," a soothing voice instructed. "You're babbling. The will be time for questions later."

"Right, Remus… where is your coat?" he said, addressing her. "Stupid question," Sirius commented, quickly noted the state of her clothing. "Here take mine." Hermione's mind, however began to click at the names being said. Remus… and Sirius? Was it too much to hope?

She attempted to locate the one identified as Remus, praying that it was him and that this had somehow been some horrible mistake, fitting the nasty vindictive side of Lord Voldemort, but promptly found her hands yanked from comfortable positions and forced into the sleeves of a warm jacket. She took in his red and gold Gryffindor sweater and matching scarf and gloves.

Her eyes drifted upward and locked on the blue eyes of the speaker. Sirius Black! She recognized immediately as her mind began to focus; the nausea was settling. His own gaze was averted, focusing on his task of buttoning up the front of his jacket… 'Well, technically my jacket as of now, I suppose', she amended silently to herself. 'Oh my gosh! Sirius…alive and well…'Hermione felt tears of relief fill her eyes as she studied him. 'Wait, but that must mean….' She tore her eyes from their location on Sirius' face to the three young men who had taken stand just behind him.

Remus Lupin, she noted looked very similar to the way he did in her time, just younger with brown hair, no gray. He was wearing layers, just like Sirius, his scarf wound up to just in front of his chin as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, obviously attempting to battle the chill. In his hand, he still held what appeared to be a large snowball. It was then she took in her surroundings. She was still on the grounds of Hogwarts, exactly where she had been twenty or so years in the future. The boys had obviously been playing a round of snowball fighting, as their makeshift forts were suddenly quite noticeable. It appeared that each boy had created their own fort by digging a pit in the snow, and they had placed themselves in a sort of lopsided square, with Hermione landing somewhere in the middle.

They were the only five outside from what she could tell, as it was silent and probably quite late judging from the darkness of the sky. Remus noticed her staring, so she quickly averted her gaze to the next marauder, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the blatant concern, but lack of recognition reflected in his gaze.

The next boy in line she knew to be Peter. He however looked nothing like his future self. Though a little overweight, his plump cheeks, reddened from the cold, were endearing. With his warm brown eyes, light brown hair, and nice brown coat, he vaguely reminded Hermione of a sweet little chipmunk, not the rat he would eventually become. He had both of his hands crammed in his brown coat pockets, rocking on his feet as his eyes darted around the group of teens, obviously looking for direction as to what he should do next. He met her gaze, and gave a tiny, friendly half-smile, which she returned, though some-what hesitantly.

Her gaze then drifted to the last standing marauder. People weren't kidding when they constantly told Harry he looked just like his father. James Potter. The likeness really was incredibly striking. His gloved hands were rubbing against each other as he pressed them to his mouth to exhale sharply against them. He was looking at Sirius with furrowed brows and a serious expression, when he realized that she had been staring at him for some time. He flashed her a broad reassuring grin, which she was more than willing to return, feeling much more at ease as it was just like Harry's.

Sirius' voice brought her attention back to him. He had obviously finished her jacket, and was reaching to pull her to stand, that she took her first really good look at the man who had been like a father to her best friend.

'Oh Harry,' she thought. 'You would have loved this.' She looked thoughtfully at him and she noted all the differences between the beautiful, healthy, happy man in front of her and the guilt-ridden, not to mention dead man, he would become.Hermione was not wrong when she described Sirius as beautiful. He had wonderful dark brown hair that fell nicely to his shoulders. His eyes were so clear and care-free (with the exception of the present situation), completely the opposite of the ones she was so familiar with. But then he smiled a sheepish smile of pride at his own handiwork and met her eyes, and Hermione realized her mistake. He was not beautiful. He was drop-dead gorgeous!

'Wait… I can't think this? I've just been sent back in time! I have no idea what is becoming of my friends and family, and I am crushing on Sirius Black? A man at least twice my age? I must have knocked my head on the frozen ground when I fell in the snow.' She thought. 'What do I do now? How do I get back….Think Hermione, think! You're supposed to be soooo clever, aren't you? Figure a way out of this mess and get back to Harry and Ron and the battle… They need you so think…' She mentally continued to chastise herself until she suddenly found her answer.

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore, please." Her soft voice had interrupted the nervous- question-firing Sirius that she had originally been presented with…. She hadn't even realized he had resorted back to the 'annoying-questions mode' until he paused mid-sentence to look at her incredulously, blue eyes clouded with doubt and confusion.

"Dumbledore? You need to see Madame Pompfrey. Come on." And with that, he grabbed her elbow and preceded to carefully frog-march her towards the castle. "Hey Pete, grab the cloak and map… I mean uh," He faltered and met her gaze quickly, "the spare bit of parchment. I-I might need it later."

"Sure Sirius." Peter said quickly. Hermione watched him jog away to do as told, her face masked with a blank expression. She snapped her eyes to refocus on Sirius directly, as he seemed to have entered another bout of questions, this time about

'I have every intention of going to Madame Pompfrey, but if you would be so kind as to remove you hand from my elbow, I will go there directly." She attempted to sound somewhat snooty, but ruined it by mumbling, "Right after I speak to Dumbledore."

"I heard that," Sirius grumbled. He did not release his grip, so she appealed again.

"Please! It's really important. You don't understand!" She dug her heels in the ground, almost tripping Sirius as his feet came to a sudden halt. He took in her determined gaze and noted that her blood seemed to have stopped from seeping, most likely due to the cold. 'I hope she still has some left', he groused to himself.

"Fine, but we're coming with you to Dumbledore's office then, to ensure you do go to hospital wing afterwards." Sirius looked to see the rest of the marauders nod once in agreement. Hermione saw this, too, and sighed loudly as she was too tired to argue.

"Fine," Hermione snapped, but she allowed Sirius to assist her the remaining way to the castle. The boys traveled in absolute silence, a rare occurrence for the normally obnoxious marauders that she had heard stories about. Hermione remained quiet, too. She was already calculating ways to ditch them when she reached the Headmasters office.

When the group of five reached Dumbledore's sturdy door fifteen minutes later, an unusually quiet James gave the password, "Phoenix icicle-pops." The door opened to reveal a familiar winding staircase that Hermione inwardly smiled; her nostalgia was a welcome distraction. Sirius stepped back to allow Hermione to precede the marauders up the stairs. It was then he realized that despite all of the questions (even if they were a bit incoherent), he still didn't know what her name was. 'Well, she doesn't know yours either,' he mentally pacified himself.

But, boy was he wrong…

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Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys are the cream of the crop, so please keep up the encouraging reviews. This is my very first fanfic ever so any constructive criticism or ideas you think I should consider are more than happily accepted! Thanks again.

Marie