A blinding light surrounded her, and even though she was squeezing her eyes shut she could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks as the winds of time flew by. The soft humming sound that accompanied time travel swiftly grew louder and louder until BANG! The wind stopped, the bright light dimmed, and Hermione realized that she had arrived. She blinked once, twice, three times, and desperately wiped the tears away from her face. She was still in the Headmaster's Office, but the worn tapestries she had grown to love looked brand new. Too new, in fact. The room seemed to emit a golden glow that had been lost as of late in Hermione's time. She continued to blink furiously, trying to process all of these events as quickly as possible, when she heard Dumbledore softly clearing his throat.

She whirled around to face his desk, wiping the last of the tears from her face. Dumbledore smiled at her, a twinkle in his eye. He looked exactly the same as her Dumbledore, except his beard was a bit shorter and more grey than pure white. He smiled again, as if reading her thoughts.

"I'm so glad to see that you arrived safely, Ms. Granger. I have been expecting your arrival. I trust the trip was pleasant – well, as pleasant as such a thing could be?"

Hermione could only nod, her faculties slowly returning as her mind stopped whirling.

"May I-" she finally asked, but instead of finishing her question, she flopped down onto the nearest chair.

"Of course Ms. Granger, please have a seat! I should have thought of that myself," Dumbledore added as an afterthought. Hermione nodded once again, and Dumbledore watched her face intently, looking for a signal that she was ready to proceed with the conversation. After a few minutes he had determined that she had enough of a blush in her cheeks to continue their discussion.

"As you know Ms. Granger, I have asked that you remain here for the year. From what I understand your own seventh year at Hogwarts has consisted less of learning and more of trying to survive. While you are here on a very important mission, it is also important to me that you take this time to relax, refocus and retrain. You are the brains of your operation, after all-" seeing her try to shake her head in denial, he chuckled. "You know that if your friends were here they would say it too."

Dumbledore stood and began to pace around the room. "While the others have had the opportunity to explore who they are as people while fighting an insurmountable enemy, you have devoted your time to helping them in any way you can. Your selflessness is incredibly admirable, Ms. Granger. But, while you are here, I insist that for as much as you work on completing your tasks, you work on yourself."

At this Dumbledore walked over to Hermione and knelt by her chair, gazing into her eyes. "Unfortunately you have grown up feeling like you have to constantly prove yourself in order to be worthy of friendship, of happiness, of love. That is the lie Voldemort wants you to believe. That is his greatest weapon against you. You may be the brightest witch of your age and lethal in combat, but you do not believe in or love yourself enough, and that is the most important trial you must overcome. If you are to succeed here and back in your time, you must believe in who you are and what you are worth. You don't need to prove anything to anyone, Hermione. You are enough."

Hermione sat still throughout his entire speech, but at those final words it felt as if a damn had burst in her heart and she hunched over in her chair, crying out as the sobs ripped through her chest. As much as she hated to admit it, she hated admitting any weakness, he knew that she was right. All of her time these past few years had been devoted to helping Harry, keeping Harry safe, making sure Harry was taken care of, making sure Ron was passing his classes, studying extra hard so Malfoy's words were never validated. But in spite of all of the things she had accomplished, she believed everything they said about her. Ugly. Bossy. Know-it-all. Mudblood. Unworthy. Nothing. Better off dead.

She tried to fight it. Or at least, she told herself that she did. In reality, she just simply ignored it. Ignored the giant hole, the pain that was eating away at her heart until she felt like she would snap. None of her friends saw it, her parents didn't even see it, but somehow Dumbledore /
And suddenly this mission truly made sense. She had the skills necessary to do the job – the empathy needed to save Sirius, the brains to find the diadem – but she was being given something more beautiful than what she was doing in return: the chance to learn to believe in herself, to love herself.

Hermione couldn't be sure how much time had passed by. All she knew was that the ache in her heart started to lessen as the final few tears fell from her eyes, and every time Dumbledore rubbed her arm she felt like some of her uncertainty and fear was being taken away. Finally, she turned and looked at him in his eyes, trepidation and determination shining in hers. "Thank you," she finally said. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I think I can do this."

Dumbledore smiled back at her. "Ms. Granger, I know you can."

She smiled a small smile back at him. Pleased to see that there was hope back in her eyes, Dumbledore stood and moved back to his chair behind his desk. "Now, for some practical matters. I have a backstory prepared for you. Your name is Mya Delacourt, a transfer student from Beauxbatons. While you have lived in England most of your life, which will explain your lack of a French accent, your father was a professor at Beauxbatons and insisted that you attend school there. Your mother, an Auror in France, and your father were murdered by a supporter of the Dark Lord, and the school sent you here for safety. How does that sound so far?"

Hermione nodded her head. "That sounds very good."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I'm glad I have your approval, Ms. Granger." Hermione blushed furiously and stared at the fireplace, suddenly very curious to discern how many bricks composed the edifice.

Dumbledore continued. "I have already spoken with the Head Boy and Head Girl about your unique situation, and Mr. Longbottom has offered to stay with the Hufflepuff prefects. That means you will be sharing the Head Boy and Girl rooms with Ms. Evans."

Hermione's eyes widened, her mind racing furiously once again. Harry's mother? Of course, she thought to herself, all of the marauders will be here! She was immediately thrilled and saddened by the prospect at the same time.

"Do not let the future be a burden to you, Ms. Granger. Make the most of the time you have with your fellow classmates." Hermione nodded vigorously in return. She would do everything she could to make this time count. Her memories of his parents would make an incredible gift once the war was over.

"As I hinted at before, you will be studying with all of the other seventh years and taking all of the Advanced courses you were scheduled to take in your time. That being said, I had to pull some strings, but I have arranged it so that at least one of the Marauders is in each of your classes. They will be the most helpful to you during your year here. And I believe you share every class with Ms. Evans as well! Like I said, you must make the most of it."

Dumbledore turned and glanced at the great grandfather clock next to the fireplace. "Ms. Evans and Mr. Longbottom will be arriving tomorrow early afternoon, a few hours before the rest of the students. I will have Tunie show you to your quarters, and I insist that you get as much rest as you can!" Dumbledore turned back to Hermione, his eyes twinkling. "This is sure to be a year to remember!"

Turning around, Dumbledore snapped his fingers and a small house elf in a pink dress appeared, blushing furiously. "Ahh, Miss Petunia, meet Ms. Delacourt. Would you mind escorting her to the Head Girl's Tower?"

Tunie bowed ceremoniously. "Of course Headmaster!"

She scurried over to Hermione, grabbed hold of her hand, and began to yank her towards the door. "Oh, and Ms. Delacourt! One more thing!"

Dumbledore walked over and picked the time turner off of her neck. Muttering a small incantation under his breath, the time turner transformed into a small glittering ruby. "There! A much less suspicious piece of jewelry, if I do say so myself!" He grinned, pleased with his work. "And if you ever need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

Hermione grabbed hold of his hand and shook it furiously. "Thank you, for everything" she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. The great wizard just smiled in return as the young witch was dragged out the door.

It felt like Hermione was flying down the hallway. How on earth could such a small thing be so strong? And move so quickly? Before she knew it they were standing in front of a portrait of Lord William Brimble, who compiled the first guidebook to Magical Creatures.

"Well, you must be Ms. Delacourt!" the portrait exclaimed, smiling widely. He removed his hat and swung it to the ground in a grand sweeping gesture. "Lord William Brimble, at your service. If there is anything you need my lady, do not hesitate to ask."

Hermione giggled and curtsied back. "Thank you, Lord Brimble."

"Oh please, call me Will," he blushed. "Now, I can only say this once," he said, focusing on the serious matters at hand. "Your password will be 'sugar quill.'"

Hermione grinned. "Dumbledore's idea?"

William chuckled back. "But of course! Now, off to bed with you Ms. Delacourt, tomorrow is a big day!"

Hermione turned and hugged Petunia. "Thank you so much Tunie!" Petunia turned three different shades of pink, mumbled a "you're welcome," and was gone in a flash. Hermione turned back to Lord Brimble and repeated the password. Wishing him a good night, she stepped through the door into a small common room. It was decorated in Gryffindor colors, had a small fireplace of its own, and a multitude of couches that were sure to be more comfortable than they actually looked. She glanced to the left and saw a door with her name on it. She walked into the bedroom, took one look at the queen sized bed covered with red and gold blankets, and pounced. She fell asleep instantly.