Fate Set Right

by mltrefry

Time turners are dangerous devices, and awful things happen to wizards and witches who meddle with time. Or do they? An accident that leads Hermione back in time changes the course of nearly a dozen lives, her own included. Love where there was none before, hope where it was lost, trust where it had always been suspect. A young Gryffindor girl that wouldn't have existed before.

2. Chapter 1

The world and time sped past her as Hermione fell forward in what felt like slow motion. She hit the ground just as the blur finished, her nose and forehead cracking on the stone floor, her fingers and elbow from her extended arm dislocating as it caught her weight in the wrong way, a sharp pain in her chest her the time turner likely dug in. Her vision blurred, and she had a hard time focusing and staying awake. And she had to. There was no way she could pass out now, not knowing where or when she was. She was in muggle denims, the only school paraphernalia on her body being her Gryffindor cardigan. She'd discarded her tie when she quickly changed out of her skirt before dinner, and now she could be reappearing near a group of Slytherin purebloods who would take one look at her in her weakened state and set out to prove something.

"Oh dear," She heard a startled gasp of someone familiar. A woman, though not one she would have had frequent contact with. "How … it's … and she's."

"Help." Hermione managed to croak, catching the sight of two robe hems before she blacked out. It was oddly comforting that one of them was such an awfully bright shade of yellow.

-H-

She awoke in the Hospital Wing, confused and far more sore than she imagined she should be considering all she was really being treated for was a run in with the dementors. Then she remembered Harry playing with the time turner as he sat on her bed. Mrs Norris. Falling.

Oh.

Oh.

She tried to sit up, but found her right arm was bandaged and in a sling, her fingers wrapped as well. She turned her head to the right, seeing the sunlight streaming through the windows, then turned to the left.

Her heart leapt in her throat as a smile came to her face at the sight of Professor Dumbledore smiling warmly back at her.

"Hello," He said softly. "We were beginning to wonder if you planned to wake up."

"I'm sorry, sir." She said automatically, her voice dry and cracking with disuse. "I didn't mean to worry you or anyone else." Hermione attempted to sit up again, this time using only her left arm. There was a struggle, but eventually she managed to get up right. Now, with her back against the head board, she could see the top of the beside table. It hadn't occurred to her that her wand could have been lost or broken, yet seeing it unharmed within her reach brought a relief she didn't know she needed.

"I would ask how you came upon this particular time turner," Dumbledore caught her attention once more, and she whipped her head back toward him despite the mild ache that spread throughout her cranium. He was holding up the time turner by the chain, the hourglass in the center broken and the sand gone, a bit of red staining the jagged ends of what remained. "But, I suspect I gave it to you so that you would end up here."

She cleared her throat. "What was special about it?" She asked, though her throat was still dry.

Dumbledore set the time turner down on the table nearest him, then poured her a cup of water. Handing it to Hermione, she accepted it with thanks and took a sip. The water wasn't cold, but it still stung a bit as it wet the parched tissue within.

After she'd had a few more sips, Dumbledore nodded and took a breath. "It's special in that it is one of the few time turners without limitations. It is thought to be one of the first of its kind, and used by a wizard or two before deemed too dangerous. Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time, especially when they can not return to where they came from." At this, Dumbledore peered at her over her glasses as if to to scold.

She knew this. There was a reason she always had to hide from herself throughout the year, why she and Harry had to wait out the time with Buckbeak before they could save Sirius. But having this affirmed to her moments after waking, speaking to a man whom she knew but clearly did not know her, had tears springing to her eyes.

"There's no possible way?" She sniffed. When Dumbledore shook his head, she let out a mirthless laugh. "Then I wonder how long I need to wait before I kill Harry for playing with it." She sniffed and looked at her hand in her lap.

"This was an accident?" Dumbledore asked, and she peeked to see his puzzled expression. She nodded, and he tilted his head toward the ceiling. "I see." He said solemnly, sadly.

"Sir?"

He tried to give a smile, but it didn't quite work. "You are from the future, or else, you would not be here. This is dangerous times, young lady, and I had hoped … given which house you were in, I had hoped you were sent back to provide us with some important information that could be used against Tom Riddle."

"Tom …." She choked the name out in confusion before she remembered something Harry had said. "You-know-who?" She whispered.

"Lord Voldemort, yes." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in amusement as Hermione blushed. "I see that regardless of when you are from, fear of his name has not gone away as of yet." She shook her head. "And you can not tell me anything?"

She frowned. "Should I?" she asked. "Wouldn't it be dangerous to share, even with you, what I know. It's not a terrible amount, I assure you. I imagine most of what I know happened has happened."

"Why do you assume that?" Dumbledore asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I … well, umm." Hermione looked around, trying to find something in the decor that would tip her off as to how far back she went. When nothing presented itself, she looked to Dumbledore. "When am I?"

"It is July third." He answered. When she continued to look at him expectantly, he added gently. "1974."

Her breathing grew heavy and her stomach churned, all while Hermione did her best to keep the tears back.

Twenty years. Harry James bloody-Potter had flicked and spun the blasted time turner so much she had gone back twenty years. He obviously had a very good spin going. And the whirring she'd heard, the time turner spinning rapidly through the air with every flick … who knew how many turns he'd have gotten on one flick.

Twenty years. She'd know all the teachers, at least. All except ….

Professors Snape and Lupin. They were only in their thirties, though precisely how old, she couldn't quite recall. But they would likely still be students themselves. With Sirius, because they all went to school together. As did ….

Harry's Parents.

At the thought, the damn broke. Not only did Hermione barely manage to turn her head to vomit on the floor instead of on her sheets, she broke into a sob. She couldn't meddle, she couldn't. It was against the laws of nature. She could damage the time line, wipe herself out of it, wipe Harry out of it. And then what would happen? Voldemort would rise to power because there would be no infant Harry for Lily to protect and die for. No way for a curse to rebound if it were never cast.

"I can't." She choked out, sobbing as she leaned back against the bed. Her nose ached, as did her head, but she couldn't stop. "I can't, I can't, I can't." She repeated, shaking her head slightly.

She had to get control of herself. This was not her. She was a Gryffindor, brave. She was Hermione Granger, logical. She was prone to bouts of panic, yes, but not like this. But so many things could go wrong now. So many things ….

"Miss …?" Dumbledore said.

"Granger." She choked out, sniffling. "Hermione Granger."

She turned toward him, and he held out a potion vial. "Calming Draught." He told her, and with a nod, Hermione stopped herself from shuttering long enough to swallow it. "You're in shock, and I believe it is quite warranted, all things considered." He said, flicking his fingers. The scent of her sick disappeared from the air just as Hermione was able to catch her breath for good. "Now, Miss Granger. How far back did you go?"

"Twenty years." She responded softly.

He smiled genially, "That's quite the distance." She snorted at this, but he made no comment on her lack of manners. "I wish I could offer some kind words, or assurances, that all would be well. But you know the outcome of the next twenty years, and I do not. Nor, I think, do I want to know. You know you can not change what you know will happen, but you are a Gryffindor. We do tend try and fix all the wrongs we perceive."

"It won't be easy." Hermione agreed.

"No, it won't be." Dumbledore agreed. "So in the meantime, I must ask something of you."

-H-

July 10, 1974

"Thank you for this, Bob. You have no idea what it means." Professor McGonagall said to her brother with genuine gratitude. She was kind, more kind than Hermione had expected when she considered that she had no idea who the Gryffindor student was. But after Dumbledore's ultimatum, he called in her Head of House and explained the situation.

Well, he explained after the Professor had been forced as the bonder for Hermione's unbreakable vow.

She wasn't sure if it were perfectly legal for her to take one underage, and McGonagall was fairly certain it wasn't, but Dumbledore had insisted.

It was that or a very strong Obliviate that covered everything but her magical knowledge. Hermione had opted to keep her mind in tact. From then, it was organizing a place to stay and falsifying records. Hermione would simply tell people that she had lost her parents in a magical accident, but was unable to say what it was for fear of repercussions. She would claim they had moved abroad a year or two before she would have started her magical education, and had attended Ilvermorney for the first three years.

"It's no problem, Minnie." Robert McGonagall, Jr assured his elder sister with a gentle smile, reaching out and giving her arm a squeeze. "You know how happy this will make Delia, and we don't need to know the details of what happened."

"Hermione?" A soft voice with a delicate brogue pulled her attention away from the siblings.

Cordelia McGonagall was a thin, dainty woman too pretty for Hermione to properly comprehend. Her clear blue eyes in porcelain skin and flawless red hair made her seem like a china doll. It was was especially boggling when compared to Bob, for he shared the professor's dark hair and gray eyes, and his skin was like leather and tanned.

"I have your room ready upstairs." She gestured, and Hermione gave a nod and followed her up. "It's a bit small," She said as they traversed the stairs to the upper landing. "But I'm sure it'll be cozy enough for you." She pushed open the door, and Hermione peeked inside before crossing the threshold.

The bed was a twin size, with a white, metal frame, a pastel colored quilt to contrast the white sheets. There was an oak dresser and a small writing desk crammed against the fair wall, the latter under the window over looking the greenhouse and back garden. There was a small night table on the side of the bed that would take up the least among of space. There was no closet, but considering Hermione had only a school uniform and the clothes on her back, she wasn't complaining.

"Minnie told us you lost everything, so I thought maybe we could go to Hogsmeade to get you a few things tomorrow."

"Oh, you really don't have to," Hermione spun and protested, only to be waved off by Cordelia.

"We have a couple nieces, bit older than you, who do have some clothes they can give you, as well as some of their old school books. But there are just somethings a girl needs all her own," The older witch said with a blush.

Hermione smirked, but at the same time her heart ached. Tears sprung to her eyes against her will as she recalled her mother taking her bra shopping just last summer. Despite being a dentist, and an intellectual, Helen Granger still managed to blush and sputter when trying to discuss something as simple as basic undergarments with her daughter. Knickers had Mrs Granger claiming hot flashes instead of discomfort.

"Did I …?" Cordelia sobered, worry replacing embarrassment.

"No," Hermione reassured. "No, it was just a moment. You didn't upset me, really, Mrs McGonagall."

Cordelia nodded and bowed her head, seemed to want to say something, and then stopped when a pair of footsteps could be heard on the stairs.

"Well, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said. "If you think you're settled enough, I'll take my leave."

"Thank you again, Professor." Hermione nodded.

"It's no trouble," McGonagall reassured. "And I will see you Sunday for dinner?" She said, glancing at her brother as well. It was agreed, and the adults left Hermione alone as they discussed other things as the professor took her leave.

Hermione moved to the window, taking in the back garden. It was so different from the one she'd looked at all her life. But then, it wasn't as though she would ever go back to that life. She'd spent her days in the Hospital Wing crying for her losses, for being separated from her parents and her friends, knowing it would be at twenty years before there was even a chance of seeing them again. She attempted to reconcile herself with the fact that, what ever she thought she knew or did know about all the adults that had been in her magical life, she would have to set it all aside. She'd have to start new. She'd nearly been tempted for Dumbledore to obliviate her initial opinions of people but thought better of it.

With a sigh and a heavy heart, Hermione opened the window and let in the fresh, summer air of the Scottish countryside and allowed a few stray tears to escape before stepping away and heading downstairs.

-A-

November 2nd, 1992

Aurora was not much liking Hogwarts. First, aside from her mother, Ginny Weasley, the Weasley twins, and Neville Longbottom, most of Gryffindor avoided her. She heard whispers that nearly everyone feared she'd rat them out to her father for whatever reason. Many hissed and wondered why she wasn't in Slytherin where she apparently belonged. And Draco ….

When he shouted "you'll be next, Mudbloods" after the discovery of Mrs Norris' petrified state, she wanted to smack him. How stupid could he be? Couldn't he see that his dear Aunt H was the same person he so willingly threw the derogatory name to? They hadn't really been avoiding each other, but now she was purposely distancing herself from one of her oldest friends.

Well, one of her oldest friends aside from Harry Potter.

She'd grown up in the wizarding world, for the most part, but her mother had sent her to primary school in Surrey. She remembered when her father found out he thought she was being utterly brilliant, and while Aurora did like academics as much as her parents, she thought the sentiment a bit odd. She'd been considered a little strange, and knowing that none of the kids were likely magical made her feel like an outsider. She had a few girls her own age that thought her weirdness was cool, but she felt more like an accessory to them. In truth, sometimes she liked hanging around with the boy who was often alone. The boy who wore over-sized clothes and often had no one around him because his cousin was an obnoxious (and grotesque) bully. She liked him, and they had a sort of friendship.

At least until she came to Hogwarts, and he learned who her father was. From then, he wasn't mean to her, but he kept his distance. And after Halloween ….

"Miss Snape," She heard her father's voice behind her as she walked briskly through entry hall toward the Great Hall for lunch. She paused, turned, and despite the sneer he constantly wore these days, there was a glint of worry in his eyes. "A word."

She nodded once, briskly, and followed him down to the dungeons and to his office. Once inside, he moved to the floo, called for lunch, and then headed for his desk. Withdrawing his wand, he turned one of the hard, wooden chairs into a plush, armed dinning chair similar to the ones they had at home.

"How are things, Rory? Better?" He asked as she sat down.

Aurora shook her head.

"I thought not." He sighed. "How many …?"

"Too many." She mumbled. "Since Saturday, I have been accused of being the 'heir of Slytherin' too many times. Harry, well, he's tried to reason it's Draco, and even ma-Hermione says it's not either of us. But …."

"You're my daughter, and therefore the logical heir as I am the head of Slytherin house, and their stunted little brains can't possibly imagine another scenario."

"Are you always this mean?" She grumbled as she shifted in her chair.

"Here? Yes. You know why that is, or at least as much as you can know. Things may be a bit different year after next, when your … when Miss Granger is gone, though I make no guarantees." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Merlin knows the magical florists will be sad to see my business go when I no longer feel the need to send your mother an apology for every degrading comment or insult I must throw at her younger self."

Aurora giggled as their lunch popped up on his desk between them.

He smirked as he took a cloth napkin and flicked it open, setting it on his lap. As her giggles subsided, he sobered and cleared his throat. "I want you to go to Aunt Minnie if anyone threatens you. Be extra cautious, and try not to travel alone. I mean it, Rory."

"Yes, Dad." She nodded.

"Good." He said, seeming assured. He then reached for one of the bowls of soup to bring it closer to him. "Now, it's not much of a Birthday meal, but this is only time I had. So, tell me about your classes, and then after this, we'll have cake."

-H-

August 9th, 1974

"I'm sorry, you took how many courses last term?" Minerva asked, needing to set her teacup and saucer down at Hermione's declaration. Cordelia, or Delia as she insisted Hermione call her, giggled at her sister-in-laws wide eyed expression before attempting to hide her amusement behind her teacup.

Hermione blushed, trying to not to smile and failing as her guardian's infectious laugh was even starting to affect the stern transfiguration professor.

"All of them." She repeated. "Though I admit to dropping Divination, it was a load of codswallop. And while I'm sure there are witches and wizards capable of making accurate predictions, I'm certain the woman was a fraud."

"Well," Minerva said, patting the bun at the nape of her neck. "You won't be taking them all this year, I assure you."

"Believe me, professor. I have no desire to repeat the circumstances which allowed me to do so." Hermione replied, noticing Delia dropping her gaze to the content of her cup as she lowered it to her lap.

Over the time Hermione had spent with the McGonagalls, her muggle heritage became quite evident to them all. The McGonagall siblings were half bloods as it were, and Delia was a muggleborn from another village. She'd met Bob in school, and when the time came to settle, the youngest McGonagall decided to settle in the very village where his parents had raised them. A muggle village in which Hermione had had no problem navigating or blending in to.

Nor did she have a problem blending in with the clan themselves. While their father had passed, Mrs McGonagall still lived not far away and frequently visited her youngest child and his wife for tea. She took a liking to Hermione, and proceeded to share tales of her children and the ways their accidental magic caused humorous problems with trying to keep their secrets quite. The children of Malcolm McGonagall and his wife were no less kind, though the youngest was older than Hermione and already out of school. The girls were thrilled to find a good home for their school uniforms and old clothes, their mother never allowing them to part with them for whatever reason. Hermione imagined it was likely in hopes of a miracle occurring for Delia and Bob, as she would eye the lovely red head whenever the possibility of future needs for such items cropped up.

It was because Delia admitted to her Hermione that being blessed with a child would only be because of a miracle that Hermione, in turn, provided a half-truth as for the reason she lost her parents: the magical accident that caused her to lose them was her fault, and it was because she was trying to hard to prove herself worthy of her magical education.

"Good. Now, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defense against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, Herbology, and History or Magic are the core courses, but you should take another two. And only two." Minerva had said sternly before a smirk played on her lips. "I doubt very much you would need Muggle Studies."

"In my experience, the class is a bit of a joke." Hermione admitted, causing both women to snort.

"Indeed it is," Minerva admitted. "So what should I put you down for then?"

"Ancient Runes and Arithmancy." Hermione replied.

"Good." Minerva replied. "Delia said that you've been helping Bob in the gardens?"

Hermione nodded. "It started as something to do to pass time, but he insisted he pay me at least a small wage since I was technically harvesting for apothecaries and the like."

"She'll likely have the top marks in Herbology, and the best quality potion's kit in all of Hogwarts." Delia mused. "Bob's been setting some aside for her, less she need to spend in Diagon Alley at the end of the month."

"Keira still had all her texts, I trust?" Minerva asked, glancing between the two.

"And what she didn't have, Malcolm Jr did. Though you can tell he had far less care for them." Hermione replied.

"He was very quidditch driven."Minerva said just as the clock began to chime three o'clock. She sighed heavily, setting her cup down. "Much as I hate to, I have to get back to the castle. Much needs to be done in preparation for the school year, and I'm afraid Albus will start to wonder where I have been heading off to so frequently."

"I suppose, if you must Minnie." Delia said as both she and Hermione set aside their tea and stood. The red head embraced her sister-in-law. "We shall see you Sunday."

"For certain," Minerva said, stepping back before embracing Hermione. "Let me know if there is anything else you will need for the school year, and I'll be sure that the shop keeps in Diagon alley will have them ready for you to pick up." She said softly.

"Oh, you don't have …." Hermione began to protest as Minerva leaned back and placed a finger on her lips to silence her.

"Family look out for one another." She scolded with a smile. "And if there is one thing you have become over this month, it's family. I will see you at dinner." And with a wink, Minerva left.

"You should probably know she appears quite stern while at the school." Delia said after Minerva departed, and Hermione turned to look at her guardian. "All our nephews and nieces have said so. They thought, especially if they ended up in Gryffindor, that they would be a bit of a favorite because of who she was. She was stricter with them than anyone."

Hermione's lips quirked as she remembered the professor McGonagall of her time. Strict she was indeed, but she would never forget the tight embrace the older witch had given her when she was un-petrified after the incident with the Basilisk.

"I imagine so." She admitted.

"Well, enough of all this school talk," Delia waved her hand as if she could clear the conversation from existence with the gesture. "Why don't you help me with the washing up while we talk about Jane Eyre? I finished the book last night, though I think I may have kept Bob half awake with the wand light. Just couldn't put it down!" Delia said, and Hermione happily followed her into the kitchen.

It wasn't home, but with the McGongalls, she was beginning to think it was the closest she would ever get to the feeling again.

September 1st, 1974

"And you're sure you have everything?" Delia asked Hermione for the half-dozenth time since flooing into the Leaky Cauldron.

Bob sighed and made a show of rolling his eyes. "Delia, I'm sure that even if she did we'd be able to get it to her."

"I know," Delia sniffled, and she dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief as they made their way to platform 9 3/4. "Just, well, I never thought we'd be doing this, you know?" She said, a watery smile lighting her face.

"Hold it together a bit longer, dear." Bob said, gently placing a hand on her back. He then nodded to Hermione who nodded back. She turned to the wall, and took off at a run toward the wall cart first. It still never ceased to take her breath away as she passed through the barrier and emerged before the Hogwarts express. Immediately, one of the men working the platform collected her cart to load her third-hand trunk into the cargo hold.

It felt strange, not having a familiar to take with her. Crookshanks hadn't been in her life long, but there was still a bit of an empty spot in her heart where the half-kneazle had been. She had wondered from time to time what would happen to him, but seeing as how he had a mind of his own and a thing for Sirius, she assumed he probably took off to find his own lot in life.

So this year, instead of clutching a cat carrier, she held merely her book bag.

"Alright," Delia's voice hitched behind her. Hermione turned to see the couple that took her in, gave her a home, and treated her as their own looked down quite forlornly at her. "Give our love to Minnie, when you can. And … and it's been quite fantastic having you stay with us, Hermione."

She furrowed her brow. "Oh," She said, her heart feeling heavy. "I thought … well, I mean … it sounds as though this is more than seeing me off to school. Are you … is this goodbye, then?"

Delia and Bob looked at one another in surprise, then turned back to Hermione. "Not if you don't want it to be." Bob said slowly. "We assumed, once you had found a friend or two, that you would try and split your time away from Hogwarts with them."

A lump formed in Hermione's throat. "Oh," She said, completely at a loss for words. Instead, she launched herself toward the McGonagalls and wrapped her arms around them as much as possible. "I promise to write." She said. "And I'm sure if I'm not back for Christmas it's likely because …."

"Min," Bob said, pressing his hand into Hermione's back just above where Delia's rested. "We understand that. Know that you are more than welcome to leave with her whenever you can for a family function. It's only been a short time, but we think … well…."

"We think of you as one of us." Delia filled in. "If not a daughter, than a very beloved and favorite niece."

Unable to find words, Hermione merely nodded.

"Now, go on." Delia said as firmly as she could while sniffling. "Always easier to find an empty car and let people come sit with you than to find one full and you have to introduce yourself."

"You might be right, there." She said, looking to the train. She willed herself to step away from the McGonagalls, walking backward and waving until it was too hectic for her to continue to do such a thing, then quickly boarded the train.

She moved through a few cars with a spattering of people until she found an empty one. She sat close to the window, gazing out at the various students arriving, biding farewell to their parents. It was such a stark contrast when compared to her departure the year before. Everyone was worried about a murder on the loose, and there had been more adults on the platform. What's more, even the clothing indicated a difference in decade. Robes were the main fashion, of course, but even the cuts and colors were more psychedelic than they were when Hermione had departed for her third year.

And she had been different. She had departed from her parents in new muggle clothes, and on the train would later change into new school uniform. She had been secretly smug about the possibility of taking all available classes, and felt herself above her friends because she had already read through the text books. She was certain they would have no trouble that year, for while Sirius Black was on the loose, there was no possible way any danger could come to Hogwarts.

Now she sat alone in the coach in her hand-me-down uniform, her second hand robes folded neatly beside her as she read through the battered, fourth-year charms book for the first time. She made a vow to herself to not draw attention the way she had in her previous time. She would not be the muggleborn know-it-all, insufferable or otherwise. At minimum, she would pretend to be a half-blood. She would not try to prove she was worthy of her magical education, she would simply receive it.

She wasn't sure how much time passed before the door to the coach opened, and the sound of a girl chatting away broke through the silence along with the bustle of other students.

"And so I told Tuney that she was being absolutely ridiculous, but she just turned up her nose at me and said, oh! Sorry, umm," Hermione looked up into familiar green eyes, and did her best to keep her face neutral as her heart twisted. She hadn't even arrived at Hogwarts, and already the thing she was fearing the most was already happening. "Do you mind if we join you?"

"Go ahead." Hermione said, catching a glimpse of dark hair behind the redhead. She returned to her book, not wishing to disturb the other two and their conversation.

"I … I don't mean to sound rude, but you're wearing my house colors and I don't recognize you. And you're hardly a first year. I mean, you wouldn't have been sorted by now if you were. So, umm, do you mind … I mean, my name's Lily. Lily Evans. I'm in fourth year."

Hermione looked up at the earnest redhead, and couldn't help but smile a little. "I'm fourth year, as well. Hermione Granger."

"Hi!" Lily said again, and then as if she'd forgotten, she turned to the boy beside her. "This is Sev. He's a fourth year, too, but he's in a different house."

It only took one proper look at the boy for Hermione to see that she should have known precisely who he was the moment they entered the car. His nose was a bit bigger than she remembered, and his hair was a bit longer, but it still had that dark, lank, greasy look to it. And his eyes. If none of the other factors could have given him up, his eyes were a dead giveaway.

Sending a dark scowl to Lily, he then turned to Hermione with his chin tilted up slightly. "Severus Snape." He said, his voice not near the deep baritone she knew it would be, but certainly deeper than Ron's or Harry's had been.

"Pleasure," She said, hoping that she wasn't about to incur his disdain in this decade already.

She noted that he eyed his eyes scanned over her and her belongings, though it was done with as much subtlety as a fourteen year-old boy could have. He did so while Lily spoke, obviously using Hermione's perceived eye contact as a distraction.

"So how are you a fourth year and I've never seen you around? You didn't get resorted or bumped ahead, did you? Well, not like you look like you could have been bumped ahead, but anyway …."

"I'm a transfer student from Ilvermorny." She told them. "I was sorted when the ministry brought me to Hogwarts to register me."

Severus frowned. "The ministry?" He questioned.

Hermione nodded. "I lost my parents in an accident. I was essentially orphaned." She said, swallowing the lump that formed each time she said the 'o' word.

"So Ilvermorny is … where?" Lily asked.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Massachusetts."

"In the states!?" Lily replied with wide-eyed amazement.

"So how did you end up here?" Severus asked, eyes narrowed.

"We were here for my parents work." She lied, and she found she couldn't maintain eye contact as she did so. She ran her finger along her charms book, watching its progress. "They were finishing up a four year project abroad. I had come with them, and was exploring Diagon Alley by myself when something … happened."

"What?" Lily asked as if it was the end of a long, breath taking story.

Hermione shook her head.

"You can't tell us," Severus stated, and Hermione met his gaze and shook her head with a sad smile.

"Why not?" Lily pouted.

The train jolted as it began to move, and Lily scrambled over Severus to the window. She pulled it down, stuck her head out, and yelled out farewells while waving her arm about. She did that until the station was well away from the view, and Hermione felt as awkward and uncomfortable as Severus seemed to be.

Lily let out sighed in one puff of air, smiling serenely before turning back and looking between the two other people in the coach. "What were we talking about? Oh right, so you went to school in the states. A magical school in the states, how unbelievably wicked is that. So do they have houses there, too? Are their rivals? Which one were you in?"

"Umm," Hermione said, curling her legs beneath her on the seat. "There are houses, of course. And rivalries, I mean. Quidditch, right? And, umm, I was in … the Horned Serpent."

Severus snorted, and Lily shot him a glare before smiling back at Hermione. "Well I think it's very interesting that you were in an entirely different magical school. There can't be that many of them, can there?"

"Well there are three in Europe." Severus mumbled.

"About five in North America." Hermione added thoughtfully.

"Two in China."

"Actually I think there are about six in Asia all together."

"And let's not forget that there are probably a half dozen in Africa and South America."

"Alright!" Lily shouted, stopping them. "Geez, and I thought Sev was bad for knowing everything."

Severus blushed and looked toward the wall, and Hermione ducked her head to hide the grin threatening to erupt. Ha! Who's an insufferable know-it-all now, Snape!

"Well I think you're going to love it," Lily continued. "Because no matter how many magical schools there are in the world, Hogwarts is obviously the best."

"Except for the school song." Severus mumbled.

"Hoggy-hoggy-Hogwarts." Hermione sang under her breathe. When all that did was make Severus smirk, but Lily look upset, she sighed. "I'm sure that I will feel more at home at Hogwarts than anywhere else." Hermione assured, reaching across the space and grasping Lily's hand.

"Of course you will. And you'll be with me, in my dorm. I can introduce you to Alice and Marlene. It'll be nice to have another Gryffindor girl in our year."

There was something about that statement that made Severus shift nervously.

Before Hermione could come up with an explanation why, the door to their car slid open, and she turned to see the spitting image of her best friend.