Hermione landed with a sickening crunch at the boulder she'd been hiding behind. The body of Minerva was absent, as were both Harry and Ron, and she slowly peered over the massive rock she crouched behind. The lawns were pristine emerald green – no bodies and no blood. She stood slowly and gazed around. The grounds of Hogwarts were as beautiful as ever, shimmering slightly, in the fading twilight. She took a few measured steps away from her hiding place, her wand at the read just in case. But no curses came.

Hermione straightened up and began to walk quickly around the back of the castle; she had to see. As she came around the edge of a tower and the lake came into view, she held her breath. She nearly fell to her knees when she saw a white marble tomb no longer interrupted the landscape. She took a few steadying breaths, touching the castle wall for support, and slowly continued her way towards the entrance.

Fear bubbled in her stomach as she contemplated her fate. Dumbledore was not dead, which was wonderful – yes – but she had a distinct memory of his death. Nothing more. This new future, she realized with mounting horror, would make no sense to her what so ever. And though she had technically lived through it, as she was currently here, she would not remember the last seventeen years for what they actually were. She would be trapped inside her head, left with memories that were not real. She shuddered.

Hermione came to the front steps and she mounted them slowly, sadness dulling her reflexes. Creaking the door open, she peeped her head in. If she'd used her time turner correctly, it would be June the first, two thousand and three – the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts.

"Oho," Dumbledore greeted her with an awed smile. "Have you returned to us, my dear?"

"I," Hermione hedged, glancing around the entrance hall and seeing nothing much had changed. "Er, what's the date today, Professor?"

Dumbledore smiled. "June the first, dear, two thousand and three."

Hermione let out a tiny sigh. "Nothing is how I remember it," she commented, moving forward toward her professor.

"No, my dear, I am afraid it is not." He said sadly. "Perhaps, it would be best that you come straight to my office. I'll have your supper brought up to you."

Hermione nodded and followed Dumbledore mutely.

When she was settled, an untouched plate of fish and chips before her, Dumbledore wove his fingers beneath his chin and waited.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, not wasting any time.

"In existence at Hogwarts." Dumbledore confirmed.

"Ron?"

"Also here." Dumbledore said after a beat. "In fact, dear Hermione, I would dare say nearly everyone you knew is in existence."

"Good," she said, noticing the odd look Dumbledore was giving her. "What?" she asked.

"My child, perhaps you should look into a mirror," Dumbledore hinted, pointing his wand and manifesting a mirror in her hands.

"Oh," Hermione breathed in confusion. "Oh, oh, oh!" she cried, touching her face.

Gone was the bushy brown mop of curls, replaced with bone straight, shiny mahogany locks. Gone were her familiar chocolate eyes; odd amber colored iris' now stared back at her. Her bone structure remained nearly the same, though her nose looked a shade more petite. Focusing for a moment on her neck, her blood froze. Her hand flew up to the school tie she wore – no longer scarlet and gold, but blue and silver.

"Ravenclaw," she breathed, turning her foreign eyes on the headmaster.

He nodded once.

"Harry?" she asked in a whisper.

"Gryffindor," Dumbledore confirmed.

"Ron?" she asked with mounting terror.

"Hufflepuff," he said softly.

"Oh," she breathed. "My hair and, and my eyes – I don't understand."

Dumbledore looked distinctly sad. "I'd venture a guess that there is a possibility that you may have a different parent or parents,"

"Wait," she said, lowering the mirror. "what's my name?"

"Hermione Granger," he confirmed. "Only daughter of Roger and Kelly Granger."

"Who the hell is Kelly Granger?" Hermione roared.

"Your mother," Dumbledore whispered.

Hermione hung her head. She now had a mother that she didn't have even one memory of. Her heart nearly split in two – she wanted her mother. Or, at least, the mother she knew. She took a steadying breath.

"Do I even know Harry or Ron?" she asked very slowly, her hands shaking.

"Only in passing," Dumbledore said sadly.

Hermione looked away as the first tear coursed down her cheek.

"You did a very noble service, Hermione, at great personal cost to yourself."

She sniffed. "It worked then?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said proudly. "I've been collecting the horcruxs as you instructed. They're put safely away."

"You didn't destroy them?"

"I've no way to do so yet."

"But the chamber of secrets, the basilisk,…" Hermione breathed, her sadness welling deeper.

"The chamber was never opened, Hermione." Dumbledore said softly.

"But Harry," she tried again.

"Cannot speak Parseltongue."

Hermione sat back and turned her head away. Nothing was as she remembered it. She had absolutely no ties to this time. She was numb.

"What do we do?" she murmured, pressing her hand to her mouth to muffle the sobs tearing up her throat.

"We speak with Remus," Dumbledore said matter-of-factly.

"Lupin?" Hermione choked out. "Will he remember me?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I dare say he will. You made quite an impression on him. He's now employed by the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries. He's an unspeakable, though I can tell you, he's studying time turners. More so, the effects of long distance time travel."

Hermione snorted. "Of course he is. How are the rest? Lily, James, Sirius, Peter, Severus?" she ticked off.

"Ah," Dumbledore sighed, sitting back. "Lily is a healer at St. Mungo's and James is the head of the Department of Magical Games and Tournaments. They are of course Harry's parents."

Hermione smiled. "At least Harry's happy."

"He is, indeed." Dumbledore agreed. "Peter Pettigrew is dead. Voldemort tired of his services. Sirius, well Sirius, is no longer in the country. He's in Bulgaria actually. Teaches Defense at Durmstrang, I believe. Didn't take your absence well, and left directly after graduation."

Hermione looked horrified.

"Tut tut," Dumbledore chided. "Not your fault at all. Severus," he went on, changing the subject. "is doing exceptionally well. Lives in Greece, just outside Athens, and runs an apothecary. He goes by the name Nicolas Herodotus under his cover there. Nico, for short."

Hermione rubbed her temples. There was too much information to take in, too much pain all at once. She wanted to run away and never return – to snatch the time turner into her hand and disappear.

"Professor," Hermione began, not bothering to open her eyes. "May I sit for my NEWTS this year? I have no desire to return to Hogwarts next year."

Dumbledore sighed. "While it saddens me to see your pain, it is the very least we can do for you. It will be arranged."

Hermione nodded, still rubbing her temples. A knock on the office door interrupted her thoughts and she glanced up absently when it opened.

"You sent for us, Professor Dumbledore?" a familiar voice asked.

Hermione froze, her lips forming a perfect 'o', and her heart hammering away in her chest.

"Indeed I did," Dumbledore said motioning to an empty love seat.

Harry Potter, followed by Ron Weasley, ambled into the room and flopped down on the small soft. Ron was glancing around in fear and Harry just looked confused.

"It is with a heavy heart that I've asked you two to come." Dumbledore said, sitting forward. "Let me first ask, though, are you familiar with this lovely young lady to my left?"

Harry's searing green eyes flicked toward her. "Er, Hermione, is it?"

Hermione felt her chest constrict painfully and she nodded.

Dumbledore looked pleased. "Indeed. Hermione Granger. Miss Granger knows you and Mr. Weasley very well."

Harry looked very confused. "Sir?"

"Miss Granger has just arrived back from a stint of time traveling and her forays in the past have caused this present to become completely unfamiliar to her. She has effectively rewritten history."

Ron sat forward. "I don't follow."

"Miss Granger intervened with fate on your behalf Mr. Potter. She not only saved your life, your parent's lives, your Godfather's life, Mr. Weasley here, my own, and countless others – but she holds the secret to destroying Voldemort once and for all."

Harry looked very pale. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"The three of you were best friends, absolutely inseparable, dependent on each other before Hermione traveled back in time."

"I, I, I'm sorry." Harry said slowly. "I don't know, I mean, I don't remember,"

"It's alright," Hermione said, finding her voice and sitting forward. "I'm just so happy you're safe. Both of you."

Ron knitted his brows together. "Sometimes I have these dreams," he started, reddening slightly. "and Harry's there, and a girl who sort of looks like you – but different. We do all these crazy sort of things," he trailed off. "Like helping a criminal escape or flying around on hippogriff's,"

"Sirius," Hermione breathed.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly. "I have those odd sort of dreams too,"

Hermione looked at Dumbledore helplessly; he was staring thoughtfully at Harry and Ron.

"Those are not dreams," Dumbledore said finally. "You're experiencing the effects of parallel realities."

"What?" Ron asked, looking scared.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, ignoring Ron and levitating a pensive to his desk. "If you would place into this one of the most vivid memories you have of your friends,"

Hermione rose, thought a moment, then extracted the last time she'd been with Ron and Harry. She concentrated on it for a long time, dredging up the most minute details – the sounds of spells flying past, the smell of wet grass and blood, the papery texture of Professor McGonagall's skin, even the pressure of their lips on hers – before drawing it out and depositing it into the pensive. Dumbledore motioned Harry and Ron forward then looked at Hermione.

"May I? Do you mind?"

"By all means," she answered.

Dumbledore nodded and addressed the boys beside. "On the count of three then. One, two, three,"

Hermione watched as the three people dipped their faces into the swirling silver of the pensive. She flopped back into her chair and waited, holding her breath, for their return.

Dumbledore returned first, looking considerably shaken. Ron followed, then Harry.

"Your hair," Harry whispered.

"Your eyes," Ron added.

Hermione nodded. "Apparently, this time around I have a different mother."

Harry nodded, and using the desk for support, made his way back to the loveseat. Ron remained standing.

"That memory was so," he started slowly, looking for the right words.

"Sad," Harry breathed.

Ron nodded. "But we," he said, nodding at Harry. "We really loved you. I mean, really, truly, deeply, we loved you. And you loved us. I don't have a friend like that now," he mused.

"My mum," Harry cut in. "Mentions someone by the name Hermione every now and again to my dad and I've seen that name in the letters from my godfather. Are you one and the same?"

Hermione breathed a deep sigh of relief – someone remembered her! "Yes," she confirmed.

"Wait," Ron cut in. "So you're saying that we were friends first, then you went back in time and befriended his parents, and that changed the course of our history?"

Hermione smiled a watery smile. "Exactly. I mean, I'm sad, achingly so, that you don't remember me while I have so much love for the both of you in my heart. But,…but it's better this way. Because in the old way Harry's parents were dead, so was Sirius, and Lupin, and Dumbledore, and McGonagall. So, yes, I'm destroyed that you can't remember the bonds we shared – but it is better this way."

"What do we do now?" Harry asked quietly. "I want to remember that reality." He touched the center of his chest. "Seeing that memory makes me feel empty here. It's like my body knows that I care for you. For both of you, but my mind can't remember it."

Hermione smiled. "Frustrating, isn't it?"

The corners of Harry's lips turned up slightly.

"What you're all experiencing are the symptoms of a parallel existence. It's a highly dangerous condition; it can drive someone mad if it's not all sorted out properly. I've sent for Remus Lupin, the foremost authority on the subject. I've no doubt he'll set it straight. He'll be here first thing in the morning. I'll have Poppy dispense each of you a draught of dreamless sleep in the meantime. We don't want you to think too much on it tonight. Off you go,"

Harry and Ron rose and hesitated briefly. With a torn look at Hermione, Ron hurried out of the room. Harry crossed the space between them and drew her into his arms. She let out and strangled sob and leaned into him, savoring the familiar feeling of his embrace. He tightened his arms around her and sighed into her hair.

"It'll be ok," he promised quietly, before releasing her and leaving the room without another word.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said evenly. "It's been a long evening, perhaps you would prefer to stay in the hospital wing tonight?"

Hermione smiled. "I've one more thing I need to do," she said quietly. "Is your chimney part of the floo network, and are the Potter's connected?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Oho, yes, my dear. But of course you should pay a visit."

Hermione stumbled out of the grate, glanced up at the unsure face of James Potter, and flung herself into his arms.

"Ugh," he choked out in surprise while trying to extricate himself from the clinging brunette. "See here," he muttered, pushing her gently away. He paused. "Do...do I know you?"

Hermione smiled brilliantly. "Come on, Prongs, you can do better than that."

Recognition dawned across his face. "Hermione," he breathed. "You've caught up with time. LILY!" he bellowed.

"Do you really have to scream, I was just in the, oh. Oh! Oh, oh, oh! Hermione!" Lily cried, flying across the room and pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. "OH!" she sobbed happily against her shoulder. "You're safe. We've been waiting so long. You look different," she added holding her at arms length before embracing her again.

Hermione was laughing. "You look wonderful! You both do!"

"We look older," James corrected her with a grin.

"You lucky little tart, you've been seventeen for twenty-seven years." Lily teased her.

"Sort of," Hermione laughed.

Lily lead her to the sofa and pushed her down, settling in next to her.

"When did you, er, catch up?" James asked, sitting himself in the overstuffed chair opposite them.

"A few hours ago. It's been,…difficult." Hermione admitted.

"Can you tell us anything now?" Lily asked with genuine interest, squeezing Hermione's hands lightly.

"It's probably best that I don't just yet. I will though as soon as Remus sorts it all out. Something about parallel realities and all that,"

James nodded. "Of course. Remus took a real shine to time travel after we graduated. I wonder why," he chuckled.

"I haven't the foggiest." Hermione giggled.

"Hermione," Lily started quietly, looking down at their intertwined hands. "I've had awhile to think over the little bit you told us before, and I was just piecing together dates and all,"

"Yes," Hermione answered her before she could ask. "It all had to do with Harry. And I do promise to tell you after I speak with Remus."

Lily nodded tightly, raising her glassy eyes to Hermione's face. "Was he, er, I mean, did you,"

Hermione grasped Lily's hands firmly. "He was alive when I left, though I don't know if he would have stayed that way. I left in the middle of a massive battle."

"You saved him," James said quietly, placing his hand gently on her shoulder.

She shrugged. "There are a lot of people now that weren't here when I left," she said carefully. "But enough about all this for now – tell me about Sirius."

James' eyes narrowed and he sat back in his chair with a huff. He crossed his arms across his chest and set his jaw stubbornly. "I don't know who you're talking about."

Hermione knit her brows together and glanced over at Lily.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Sirius took off right after graduation. We occasionally get letters but he hasn't come back since. He's teaching at Durmstrang."

Hermione bit her lip and glanced at James, then back at Lily. "Is there anyway to meet with him?"

Lily shook her head. "No one knows where Durmstrang is. You can try to owl him, but I'm not sure any of my owls actually find him. His letters, when they come, have nothing to do with what I've written him."

Hermione grimaced and wondered if she'd ever met Viktor Krum in this reality. She doubted it.

They spoke awhile longer before, yawning, Hermione bid them good night and promised to visit again very soon. She went directly to the Madam Pomfrey and took the potion she offered, finding sleep a welcome relief.

Remus arrived at Hogwarts in a high state of agitation. Dumbledore had summoned him the night before, giving no indication as to why he sought an audience with him. He was a busy man and he had much research that needed to be compiled before Hermione…Remus froze. Was she back? Had she arrived? Remus had given Dumbledore explicit instructions summon him immediately upon her return before she spoke to anyone. Had the batty old codger allowed her to see anyone? Had he allowed her to spill her secrets?

Merlin, this could be disastrous! He sped up.

Hermione was pacing in front of Dumbledore's fireplace when Remus slammed into the room. They both stopped short upon seeing each other and it was Hermione that moved first – flinging herself into his arms with absolute abandon. He held her tightly to his chest, stroking her silky locks and murmuring her name over and over. Hermione lost herself to sobs and she held tightly to her friend as they shook her petite frame.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No," she wailed. "It's terrible! No one remembers me and I have no real memory of the last seventeen years. Look at me! I even have a different mother!"

"I'm so sorry, my love, I'm so sorry." He whispered.

When they finally broke apart, they saw that Dumbledore had brought Harry and Ron quietly in.

"Albus," Remus breathed, eyeing the two boys warily. "What have you done?"

"These boys have physical memories of Hermione. They're bodies remember her and they dream about the way it could have been," Dumbledore explained softly.

"Parallel realities," Remus murmured.

Albus nodded. "I've shown them one of Hermione's memories to confirm the physical memory. It's stronger than I feared. Do you think you can help?"

Remus gaped. "This is all theory," he said slowly. "There's never been a documented case in history. This is completely unique."

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed.

"I'll need some time to prepare; to gather as much theoretical research as I can on this phenomenon. Until then, to be safe, I'd like to block off the memories Harry and Ron have."

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed again.

"I don't want to forget her." Ron said fiercely and Harry nodded in agreement.

"No, of course not," Remus said slowly. "We just have to figure out how to bring it about safely with the least amount of damage. I need a week, maybe two, to find a method. In the meantime, I don't want you to dwell on a parallel past; it's dangerous."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Do I have your word that you will restore my memory of Hermione?"

Remus nodded slowly. "Yes, Harry, you have my word that I will do my best to find a way to safely merge your parallels."

"And if you don't?" Harry pressed.

"Then we must come up with the best possible alternative for everyone involved." Hermione said evenly.

"You're wording yourself very carefully," Ron observed and Hermione smiled.

"I did not go through all this hell to hurt you in the end. I did it so that you would be safe and happy. I'm not going to let anything, including myself, compromise that. So if you do love me, if you feel that you love me – do what Remus tells you to."

Harry scowled darkly but nodded his ascent.

"Good," Hermione beamed. "I've got a few things to take care of now, so I'll step out before you box in their memories so they're not confused."

"Where are you going?" Remus asked, withdrawing his wand and approaching Harry slowly.

Hermione smiled. "To Bulgaria of course,"

Remus chuckled. "Of course. I'll fetch you when I'm ready for you."

Hermione nodded, kissed the cheek of all four men, and slipped out of the office.

Once outside the gates of Hogwarts, Hermione considered the long distance it would be to apparate to Bulgaria. She decided to apparate halfway first and have a little stop off to rest. In Greece of course.

Severus, as Nicolas Herodotus, was not difficult to find once Hermione located Helena Isle, the Greek equivalent of Diagon Alley.

She eased into his bustling shop quietly, browsing the back shelves absently and stealing glances toward the front of the shop where a tall, tanned man was waiting on customers with a big grin. Hermione had a hard time processing how different Severus looked from when he was seventeen to now and blending it with her memories of him as an adult.

He was tall and very muscled, a fitted t-shirt stretched taunt across his vast chest. There was no hint of pallor in his browned skin now and his previously lank hair was lustrous and cut into a flattering shaggy style. His nose was no longer hooked, nor crooked, but stock straight in a Roman proportion. There was no mistaking his eyes though, back as ink.

As the lines died down, Hermione began to inch forward and she could hear him now talking to an old witch at the counter, his silky baritone laced with a new accent was music to her ears.

"Καλό απόγευμα, πώς μπορώ να σας βοηθήσω;" a young man said to Hermione's left.

"Um,…English?" Hermione asked hopefully.

The teen smiled. "Good afternoon, how can I help you?" he repeated in a thick accent.

"Oh, I'm looking for Nicolas."

The boy smiled. "But of course, all the pretty women look for him. This way,"

He led her to the counter and left her there. Severus, after finishing his conversation and bidding the old woman a good day, turned his dark eyes on Hermione. He cocked his head questioningly.

"Have we met?" he purred.

Hermione nodded mutely, mesmerized by his eyes.

"Forgive me, my dear, but I cannot place you - though I know I must know you," he murmured as he studied her face.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Hermione reached her fingers up and tapped the small golden 'H' that hung around his neck.

Severus gasped and yanked her quickly behind the counter.

"When did you…? How did you…? Where were…?" Severus fired off half articulated questions as he paced the back room where he had dragged her.

"Sev," she pleaded. "Sit down."

"You promised," he spat as he dropped into the opposite seat. "that you would always be there for me. Where were you?"

"I used a time turner to get back to your time." She said bluntly. "This is my time now."

"Who sent you back in time and why? It's dangerous,"

"Professor McGonagall sent me back. There was a war, everyone was dying and I had fix it."

"What did you change?" he asked, his face a mask of fear.

"You,"

"I caused a war?" he whispered.

Hermione thought for a moment. "In my history you had done a terrible thing, something that was directly responsible for the deaths of James Potter and Lily Evans. Something that brought Voldemort to the apex of his power. However," she went on, squeezing his hands. "You did not know what you were doing. And as soon as you found out that the Dark Lord had used you – you spent the rest of your life atoning for your sins as a double agent. You were a good man, you just needed a friend."

"You traveled back, decades, to be my friend?" he asked thickly.

She smiled. "When I left my time, I didn't have a plan. I literally left from a battlefield and you were already dead. I made it up as I went along. I saw you in the corridor and I knew – knew – that you were a good person; that you just needed someone to believe in you. It wasn't a lie, or a job; we both needed someone.

And as time went on I grew to love you and trust you as I would any other friend. It was all real. And I still love you. I still want you in my life."

Severus hung his head. "You always have my heart." He whispered.

"Good, because my life is in shambles. Time travel destroyed everything I know and I have nothing. Remus is trying to sort it all out."

"Remus Lupin – the werewolf?" Severus asked incredulously.

Hermione shot him a dirty look. "Remus, my friend, specializes in time travel in the Department of Mysteries."

Severus smirked. "But of course," he allowed.

"Anyway, I may not have anywhere to go when all is said and done,"

"All that is mine, is yours." Severus vowed.

Hermione snorted. "I may take you up on that. Hey, do you know where Durmstrang is, by the way?"

"What do you want with that school?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just rounding up old friends."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I hear that it is near Borovichene in Bulgaria; near the borders of Macedonia, Greece, and Bulgaria. There is, as rumor has it, a small wizarding town there called Petrich, but it is not a town one goes to alone. In fact, if I were you, I would avoid it all together. Anyone you knew that resides there now, well Hermione, they're not worth knowing anymore."

Hermione smiled and rose. "I am particularly fond of this one."

Severus stood and she drew him into her arms. "I will not be gone long this time. I will see you again soon, Sev."

He snorted against her hair before pulling away and gazing down at her. "Will you be alright? I can accompany you if you like."

"I'm pretty good at blending in, I'll be fine, I promise."

After a few more hugs and murmured assurances, Hermione was on her way.

Upon landing, Hermione gazed around her surroundings and grimaced. The terrain was rough, jagged, threatening. It made her uneasy and she shivered despite the high temperature.

She was in the right area though, she was sure of it, as she could feel the almost imperceptible hum of magic in the air.

She began walking north, stopping every few yards to confirm that the hum was getting stronger. After twenty minutes of walking, and tripping through the stony terrain, Hermione rounded a large boulder and the small town of Petrich materialized before her.

Severus was right, the town looked as if no respectable witch or wizard would frequent it, let alone call it home.

Tightening her fingers around her wand at her side, Hermione continued forward with a purposeful stride.

The town was set into the canyon between two colossal mountains, the stores and buildings carved directly into the mountainside. The path between the two sides was extremely narrow, maybe six feet across. Hermione felt as if she were being swallowed alive.

It was dark, even as the afternoon sun sat high in the sky, and Hermione had to light her wand to make her way along. She passed people huddled in doorsteps and narrow fissures of rock, swaddled in rags and glaring malevolently up at her.

Unease tightened in her belly and she darted into the first tavern she saw, identified by the crudely painted sign depicting a mug of ale.

Several oil lanterns, casting all the occupants in deep shadow, lit the inside of the tavern dimly. She approached the bar quickly, avoiding touching any of the filthy tables or chairs on her way.

She reached the bar, hewn from stone, and leveled her gaze of the grimy barkeep.

"Excuse me," she said, keeping her voice low.

He raised a shaggy eyebrow at her and tossed the towel he held over his shoulder.

"You're not from around here," he croaked.

"No," Hermione agreed, thankful. "I'm here looking for someone,"

"Can't no good come from that," the keep muttered darkly.

"Sirius Black, do you know him?"

"Mayhap," the crusty old man said carefully. "What for you looking for him?"

"He's an old friend," Hermione said evasively.

"Black ain't got no friends good for nothing," the keep said suspiciously.

"I haven't seen him in over a quarter century. I'd very much like to see him now," Hermione explained.

"Ain't no way you's a day over eighteen,"

"I look good for my age, I assure you."

"I don't want no trouble in my bar, you hear? I don't need none 'o' Black's jilted lovers tearing up my bar no more. You best move on,"

"I need to see him, Sir. It is of the utmost importance." She pressed.

He regarded her for a moment before hooking his thumb over his shoulder. "He's back there, if you make an ounce of trouble for me, I'll throw ya out myself – lady or not, ya hear?"

"Absolutely," Hermione agreed, already hurrying toward the lone figure at a table in the back.

His back was toward her as he was hunched over a small, rickety looking, table with a stein of ale in one hand and an open bottle of fire whiskey before him, two thirds gone. He held his head propped up by his hand.

She came around to stand beside him, and was surprised to see a full, though short, beard covered his prominent jaw, and his usual shaggy cut had grown past his shoulders, dreaded, and was pulled sloppily together at the nape of his neck. He was dirty, smelled of sweat and whiskey, and was clothed in a loose fitting gray tunic and heavy black pants.

He glanced up at her; no recognition is his whiskey glazed, storm colored eyes. "What?" he growled.

"Oh," Hermione breathed, pulling out a chair and sitting beside him. "Hello, Sirius."

"Who are you?" he snarled, setting up and downing another shot.

Hermione studied his face, sadness filling her at his ravished condition. "Oh Sirius," she whispered. "What happened to you?"

He turned his eyes on her and studied her altered face. "Who are you?" he repeated less harshly.

She smiled sadly, and extended her arm as if she would caress his face, but withdrew her fingers at the last moment. "Sirius," she whispered. "You know me, come on, think,"

He shook his head slowly from side to side. "No." he said firmly. "I haven't the foggiest bloody idea who you are. You should go. Now. I'm not in the mood for fucking games."

"Sirius, it's me, Hermione," she almost yelled.

He paused, holding the shot glass midway between the table and his lips, and turned slowly towards her. His eyes narrowed.

"That's a sick fucking joke," he breathed, deadly. "Who put you up to this?"

"Sirius!" Hermione cried. "I know I look a little different, but come on,"

He dropped the shot glass on the table, splashing Hermione and himself with the amber liquid. In a flash his was on his feet, and he reached down and flipped the table from between them, earning a scream from Hermione. He grabbed her roughly by her shoulders, his fingers biting painfully into her flesh, and shook her.

"I don't know who you are but you are not Hermione," he roared.

"Let,…let go! You're hurting me!" she cried.

He released her, pushing her away from himself and strode out the front door. Hermione leapt to her feet, ignoring the bar keep's curses, and hurried after him. She was a few feet behind him when she yelled, "I can prove it!"

He didn't pause, just kept his pace without glancing back.

"I told you that you would regret it; kissing me!" she cried breathlessly as he was taking a sharp right turn through the carved out town. He stopped abruptly and whirled around.

"What did you say?" he demanded, as Hermione collided with him, unprepared for his abrupt halt.

"Oomft," she mumbled into his chest, before pulling back. "I said," she snapped. "I told you would regret it, you big dumb cod!"

He blinked a few times, glanced away then back. "My Hermione had light brown hair and big brown eyes,"

"Yeah," she said sarcastically. "That's how I remember myself too. Imagine my surprise when I got around to looking in a mirror. I've got a different mum this time around."

Sirius let out a small gasp and fell to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressed his face against her stomach, and sobbed.