Alright, I got so many story alerts, and I thank you...but I need feedback as well! So, I am making review limits. Don't worry, they're small ones...six reviews in total to continue...next chapter we're introducing the Marauders...and you'll see soon how Hermione gets stuck there...remember, review! :)

Chapter Two

HER DREAMS usually were made up of her fears, Hermione thought warily as she woke up with a start once again. It should be reasonable she was dreaming these stupidities, wasn't it?

It had been three days after the encounter with Fred and George, and she hadn't spoken about it to anyone. She had gotten an owl the day before, though, with only the words 'Is the chicken still in the coop?' written upon the parchment, and Hermione had hastily answered 'Unfortunately.'

Her mind went back to the dream she had just been woken up by. She was running through the Chamber of Secrets, most of it made up by her mind, and she stopped in a door guarded by lions, but they were unmoving; she went through the unlocked door and ended face to face by the strange looking twins that were laughing manically and seizing her, sitting her down in an electric chair…

Then she woke up. Of course, the whole thing was stupid, because for one, how could she ever open the Chamber of Secrets herself? And second, Fred and George did not have pink hair, and they would never seat her in an electric chair…meaning any harm, anyway. She sighed and rubbed her temple. She was being stupid and paranoid; she had accepted the offer, anyway, and soon it was going to be over, and she could go back to pointless, non-frightening dreams.

Well, at least she really hoped so.

She looked around her dormitory and listened to the even breathing of her dorm mates. She closed her eyes, but she knew there was no use in trying to fall back asleep, because really, why would she fall back asleep if she knew that she was only going to have another nightmare? No, instead she sat up in her bed with as much silence as she could muster, and she looked out the window that was conveniently next to her own bed. It looked cold, and if she strained her ears, she could hear the almost silent whooshing of the cold winter wind.

Hermione sighed silently and looked around and tried to calm herself—it was all soon to be over, anyway. For today was the day she finally got the whole situation over with; it was the Hogsmeade weekend and she was going to finally find out what Fred and George's new invention was, and what they wanted to test it on her for.

And if she was lucky, this could be a clue as to what Dumbledore was planning on doing, was planning on teaching Harry. Of course, all the lessons were useful…in Dumbledore's eyes. It was great that they knew more about the younger Voldemort, the one who started all this, how he built his power, but where was he really going with it? Did he really need Harry, or was he using Harry to see if he could get to the bottom of things, to them leave him behind and finish this himself?

No, that wasn't right. For one, Hermione knew that Dumbledore knew that would drive Harry crazy, and second, Dumbledore knew what the prophecy said, Harry was to be the one to kill Voldemort, not himself…so then where was he going with all this.

These thoughts were doing nothing but frustrating Hermione. She was so accustomed to always knowing what was what, the reason behind things, always being right, in any case, that no knowing was possibly one of the most annoying and outright stupid feelings she had ever had. Maybe this is how everyone else felt once in a while, she admitted to herself. No one was perfect, after all.

--

Not being able to sleep the whole night afterwards, she was the first one to get up and dress in her dormitory and walk back down to the common room. To her surprise, Harry was already up, staring intently at the fire. Hermione frowned and seated herself in the couch in front of Harry. But Harry didn't seem to notice; Hermione saw his eyes were glazed over, as if his mind was a million miles away.

"Harry?" she asked timidly, for she didn't want to cause Harry any more irritation than he was already feeling. Harry seemed to snap back to reality and looked at her with mild shock and a bit of apprehensiveness.

"Oh," he frowned. "What are you doing up so early?" He looked at Hermione expectantly.

"I should be asking you the same question," she said, and Harry looked away and back to the fire.

"Couldn't sleep," he muttered, and Hermione nodded, but stared at his face. He did seem irritated, she noted. And tired, an frustrated…and sad. She could notice his ruefulness. Hermione couldn't believe how easily she could read Harry, then she reminded herself she'd been his best friend for six years now.

She glanced at the fire, then back at Harry. "You know," she said, and he noticed a muscle in his jaw twitched, as if he were trying to avoid looking at her, but his instinct wanted to betray that want. "You've been wanting to know the reason why I'm so…weak," she said slowly. Harry glanced at Hermione, and then back at the fire.

"I thought you were stressed," he said, and Hermione noticed his lips twitch. Hermione laughed softly.

"That is part of it, mind you," she admitted. She then stared at the fire as well. "But…most of it…is because of Sirius."

Hearing the name come out of her lips made her heart wrench even more painfully, and she could tell it did the same to Harry, who flinched. His eyes closed tightly, as if trying to block out the rest of Hermione's words. "I miss him." she whispered.

Harry's eyes opened and he finally looked straight to Hermione, and her heart started racing. His eyes were full of unshed tears, his face was white. Involuntarily, she stood up and walked over to him, and put her arms around him, embracing him. Seeing Harry, crying, weak, was something Hermione hated—seeing her best friend whom she'd always believed to be brave and unbreakable irked her so much that she hated herself for even bringing up Sirius in the first place.

Hermione felt Harry arm tighten around her waist and his silent tears being dropped into her sweater, and she felt weakened. She knew that she loved Harry; Harry was like a brother to her. The brother she'd always wanted, being an only child and all. Through everything, she knew Harry would give anything to save her. And that's what she always wanted; someone to protect her and hold her when she was scared and vise versa.

She let go and sat next to him, her hand still holding his arm as though her might fall. Harry took a shaky breath and looked at her. "I was hoping right now…being stupid, really…" He looked down, but Hermione shook her head.

"It's a vain hope," she said, nodding toward the fireplace. "I've done that a couple of times now. Just waiting, hoping…maybe his head will appear again…" she sighed and shook her head. "It's just so unreal, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Very." He agreed, and they left their conversation at that, both of them staring at the fireplace, both of them—despite what Hermione just said—waiting for the head to pop out and start talking to them.

About half an hour later, more people starting coming down the common room, but neither Harry or Hermione let their eyes linger away from the fire. For some reason, both of them looking at it gave Hermione more hope, as if to say she wasn't really crazy, he wasn't really dead…

"What are you guys doing?"

Both Hermione and Harry jumped as they turned back to a suspicious looking Ron. Hermione smiled warily at him and rubbed her eyes, popping her back at how uncomfortable it suddenly felt. Harry was doing the same, but not smiling.

"Good morning, Ron," Hermione said kindly, resting her back on the couch. "Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Ron looked at Hermione for a moment then at Harry. "You disappeared." Hermione, stung that he had ignored her, didn't fail to notice this sounded more like an accusation rather than a comment. Harry seemed to realize this, too, because he looked shocked and affronted.

"Thought you might have gotten used to it by now," he said in a would-be-casual voice. He glanced at Hermione who gave him a tiny shrug and stood up.

"Well, we ought to go downstairs and eat, don't you think?" she said, trying to sound cheerful and that her and Harry hadn't being crying some minutes ago. "I, for one, am starving." Harry gave her a knowing look, and Ron gave her another suspicious look, but both complied anyway, following Hermione out of the common room and out the Great Hall without a word exchanged.

They all sat somewhere in the middle of the Gryffindor table. The Great Hall was almost empty, but Hermione was so used to being one of the first ones to breakfast that it didn't bother her much. Once all three of them started eating, Ron seemed more cheerful.

"D'you reckon that could happen?" he asked Harry, after swallowing a mouthful of eggs. He had just finished telling Harry about a dream he had and he thought it was more of a vision that Hermione had decided to tune out.

"I don't know, Ron," Harry said, looking thoughtful. "The only visions I've ever had are ones involving Voldemort."

Ron winced at the name and Hermione sighed. "Which you shouldn't be having anymore, anyway," she said pointedly. Harry grinned sheepishly.

"It's hard to 'clear my mind' out of anything these days, truthfully," he said in an offhand sort of tone, for Malfoy had just walked in with Crabbe and Goyle by his side, all three of them muttering; Malfoy looked angry at something.

Hermione exchanged wary looks with Ron, awaiting for Harry to burst out about Malfoy, and sure enough he turned back to them and started muttering. "He seems mad, doesn't he?"

"Oh—well, yes," Hermione admitted. "He does look mad…but these days he always seems stressed out, doesn't he Ron?" she looked at Ron for help.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, he does seem a bit more wary than usual, mate," he told Harry, but Harry didn't seem to hear them.

"Something must have gone wrong with whatever he's trying to fix," he said, speaking more to himself than to herself or Ron. Ron shook his head and Hermione bit her lip.

"Harry, you've already almost killed the guy!" she hissed. "Don't you think it's about time you let him be?" Harry looked at her as though she were some mildy interesting television show.

"Yeah, sure," he said, and he turned back to look at the Slytherin table, looking suspicious. Hermione sent an exasperated look to Ron, as if begging him to say something, but Ron shrugged helplessly. Hermione gritted her teeth. Why was Harry so keen in believing Malfoy was planning something? Or that he was a Death Eater? Didn't he understand that, as much as she loathed Malfoy as well, there was no way Voldemort could make him a death eater at the age of sixteen. Especially not if he was crying in the bathroom, she added to herself.

"Er—so, Hermione," Ron said loudly, making her and Harry jump. Hermione looked expectantly at Ron. "Where are you planning on going to Hogsmeade?" he said. Harry seemed to give up on Malfoy and he looked at Hermione as well.

Oh, she wasn't good under pressure. She felt herself get red and started playing with her barely touched food, and clearing her throat. "Uh, I was…planning on going to…the post office," she lied. "Just to have a look around." She glanced up in time to see Ron and Harry exchange puzzled looks, then looked back to her food.

"You've been in there dozens of times," Ron said accusingly. "Why do you need to look again?"

Hermione shrugged. "I like it." She said simply.

"Hermione…" Harry said slowly. "Is there something you're not telling us?"

Hermione felt her ears get redder, but she shook her head fervently. "No! I…o-okay…I was planning on meeting someone there. No big deal." She tried to shrug of the subject. When none of them replied, she looked up.

Ron looked furious. His mouth was opening and closing, as if trying to find the right words to tell her off. Harry, on the other hand, though his expression wary and glancing at Ron, merely seemed curious. "Who are you meeting?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Hermione frowned. "That—that doesn't concern either of you." She said stubbornly, and Ron snorted.

"I thought we were your friends?" Ron spat, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't act thirteen, Ron. There are some things a girl keeps to herself." Hermione said. Ron was getting redder and seemed to be losing his voice more often. Harry looked at Hermione, as if begging her to stop talking before Ron had a spasm. "And besides," she said. "It's for educational purposes only." At least, she supposed.

Ron's face seemed to drain back to its original color, and Harry seemed to be fighting a smile. "Oh," Ron said, sounding calmer than he had before. "You mean—like, a study date?" Hermione noticed how he had difficulty with the word 'date', but she didn't mention this.

"Something like that." Hermione stood up and looked at both of them. "Then I suppose I'll see you back here? It might take some time," she added at their confused faces. Ron seemed to be put out, but Harry smiled slightly at Hermione and bid her farewell. Hermione, still feeling red in the face, scurried out of the now-full Great Hall and into her haven, the library, until it was time to go.

--

Looking for 'Charming Chocolates' was easier than Hermione had expected. She wondered why she had never been there before, why she hadn't noticed it. She hated the fact that it was looking gloomier than before, Hogsmeade, but kept her mind busy wondering what Fred and George's invention was. As she entered, she noticed George hadn't been lying; the inside of the store was filled with short third years beaming up at all the chocolate type foods that there was, talking animatedly with their friends, that there was barely and room to walk.

Muttering 'excuse me's and 'pardon me's, she finally got to the counter. Behind it was a woman, smiling at everyone who glanced at her, and seeming to make small talk with every person who bought something.

But that wasn't right, Hermione noted. Fred and George had said a man…she walked up to the lady behind the counter. The lady looked surprised, but smiled at her anyway. "How can I help you, sweetheart?" she asked, sounding hearty. Hermione bit her lip.

"Uh, hi. Is the—the owner here?" she asked, guessing the man Fred and George spoke of was, indeed, the owner. The lady frowned, but her smile never faltered.

"No, he felt under the weather today," she said. "But I can help you if you need anything." She said, with a sort of edge to her voice. Hermione didn't like going off plan, but she had to try anyway…

"Er," she cleared her throat. "Well, you see…I'm here to run an errand for Fred and George Weasley…they're friends of the owner, you see, and they needed me to get them something from the attic…" Hermione knew it was a no go before she trailed off. The lady chuckled and started shaking her head as she spoke.

"That's not possible, the attic's not open to the public, sweetie, and seeing as Mr. Ross isn't here, I can't let you in," she said, sounding sickly sweet. "I don't even know who those two boys you speak of are."

"They're—they aren't boys, they're of age," she almost snarled. "They're eighteen and the run Weasley Wizard Wheezes, do you know that shop? Over at Diagon Alley?" she asked hopefully.

A third year passing by laughed. "I love that shop!" he told his friend, and they kept walking. It was as if on cue. The lady pursed her lips.

"Ah, them two," she shook her head, her smile finally faltering. "I don't think so, those crazy b—men," she corrected herself, for Hermione sent her a look filled with daggers.

"Just—I won't be long, please?" she said. What was it this lady called the owner? "Mr. Ross won't mind, I assure you, and if he does, I'll take all the blame." She promised. The lady sighed.

"Right, but be warned I'll be waiting for you down here young lady," she said, but she still seemed unconvinced. Hermione promised her she'd be back, and, purposely not adding the 'soon', ran up the stairs behind the lady.

She halted at a door and opened it, entered the room and closed the door, leaving the noise downstairs behind her. She looked around and was surprised to find this didn't seem like an attic at all, this seemed more like a bedroom without a bed. There were boxes stacked everywhere, sure, but they were set to where they just looked like desks and what not, and there was a radio on top of one of the boxes.

Hermione decided not to linger too long, in case the lady came back and checked on her. She looked around and found the Muggle lion painting, and did what Fred had instructed her to do. Hermione stared astonished as the painting only relocated itself to the left, revealing a small door hovering near—not on—the wall.

Hesitantly, she opened the door to find that it was indeed unlocked and left it open for a few more seconds, just standing outside. The door seemed to lead into a dark passageway, but it wasn't connected to the wall…Hermione was never let down by the magic world. She finally stepped inside the door. She had some trouble closing it, as if something were holding it open, and in a moment she closed it a little too loudly and easily, as if the door had heard her struggling thoughts. She bit her lip and looked behind her.

She saw nothing at all but darkness. Her heart beating wildly, she suddenly wished she had brought someone along with her. Grabbing her wand out of her robes, she muttered, "Lumos." and in an instant, she saw the passageway was indeed damp and made of lumpy rocks. With a gulp, she started running forward.

There were many twists and turned, and at times she could swear she heard footsteps behind her, but convinced herself they were the echo of her own footsteps. She kept running and running for what seemed hours; she imagined it would have been worse if she walked the way, of course. She was about to give up and turn back when she saw—to her great relief—a door, much like the one back at the shop, hovering just a few inches from the wall.

"Finally," she muttered to herself, and this time didn't hesitate. She opened the door and walked inside, leaving it open behind her.

What she entered wasn't a room, she noted. She was inside the Whomping Willow, and she side. She still had some way to go. She turned back and closed the door, and this time walked to wherever the tree bark took her. Hermione was getting annoyed by her own panting and made a note of trying to kill the twins when she got to the Shrieking Shack.

It only took a few minutes, though, and she finally found the same door she and Harry had gone through their third year. She didn't hesitate this time either and just opened the door, and relief splattered her features as she found Fred and George muttering to each other.

They both looked up and identical grins spread along their faces. "Hermione!" they both greeted, and Fred ran up to her, grabbed her arm, and led her and George up the stairs to the same room Hermione, Harry and Ron had found out about the truth of—her heart gave a jump—Sirius, Lupin and Peter.

Being back into the room made her throat close up, but she was determined not to think about that anymore. Instead, she looked over at George, who was frowning at the entrance door. Fred, though, was looking through his bag.

"Did you fancy the trip, Hermione?" Fred asked in a conversational tone, and Hermione scoffed.

"Don't I just wish," she sighed, but shook her head. "Next time, we're doing side along Apparation." She warned, and Fred laughed.

"If there is a next time," he reminded her. "If we test it on you and it all goes well, we're done." He grinned and pulled a small, round object out of his bag, and George finally looked from the door to Fred.

"Is it alright?" George asked anxiously, and Fred nodded.

"It's perfectly fine, don't worry," he muttered to his brother, and then he looked back at Hermione. "Okay, young'un," Fred cleared his throat, and both the pair of them changed their expressions into business type ones. "Here's the inside scoop."

"We have been working on this for three months exactly," George informed her. "Dumbledore owled us three months prior and said that he had something urgent to ask of us. Of course, Fred and I, always up for a challenge, wrote back immediately and told him to let us know where and when to meet him."

"He told us to meet him here, in fact," Fred continued. "He told us we could Apparate, but not the first time. We needed to see it first then we could Apparate whenever we liked. Then he let us know about the secret passageway that he had magically created for our use only," Fred frowned. "I supposed we never asked him why he didn't get rid of it, though…"

"Not that it matters, anyway, for it got you here today," George nodded at Hermione. "Anyway, once we met with Dumbledore, he explained that this would qualify as work for the Order," George shrugged. "And why not? We told him whatever he needed, all he had to do was tell us what he wanted."

"And so he did," Fred took over. "He said that he needed an invention, not a joke-worthy one, but a powerful one that could be very useful to all this You-Know-Who business…and he told us he needed an object to help him go back to whatever time he wanted to in Hogwarts, choose the person he wanted to follow, and feel and think everything the person was feeling and thinking."

"This sounded impossible," George nodded. "But we were up to it. And it took us a mere three months, bless us," George grinned. "It was tricky, see, it had to be sort of like a Pensieve, and a Time Turner—something Dumbledore told us about—combined. Something which would take you unseen anywhere in time without the need of a memory taken from someone's head."

"But of course, only in Hogwarts grounds," Fred said, sounding sad about the thought. "It'd have taken years if you wanted the whole world, at that." He sighed deeply.

"So that's what this is," George said, pointing at the circular object in Fred's hands. "You don't notice it's powerful at all, it looks like an oversized Snitch, and you can carry it with you anywhere," he said proudly.

Fred looked at the object proudly. "We call it the Time Pensieve, for obvious reasons. And you, Hermione," Fred looked at her, beaming. "Are the lucky witch that gets to test it for us."

Hermione blinked. This, all of this, sounded impossible…and yet she knew both Fred and George to make extraordinary magic, all they really had to do was find out how to make a Time-Turner and a Pensieve and complicate things…and she was excited…just imagine what she could find out if she went to Hogwarts back a few years, see things people don't understand, feel what other were feeling…

Hermione smiled up at the twins. "It sounds amazingly complicated," she admitted, and the twins laughed…but to Hermione, it sounded like more than three laughs…she looked around, but then shook her head and told herself she was being stupid, and looked back at the twins. "Are you sure it's safe? I wouldn't be seen?"

"No possible way," George assured her. "It would be kind of Apparating really, you just tell the Time Pensieve what year you want to go, and the name of the person you would like to follow (full name, if you don't mind), and it takes you there."

"You have to be quick to spot them, though," Fred warned her.

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "And why's that?" she asked Fred, and she saw the twins exchange looks.

"Ah—no reason, no reason at all," Fred said.

"At least, no major one. Just spot the person quickly and you'll be fine." George said, but glanced at Fred quickly before looking back to Hermione.

"Now, when you want to get back," Fred continued. "All you have to do is say to the Time Pensieve 'Take me back', and you'll be back in no time. We promise," Fred added at the uneasy look overtaking Hermione's features.

"Right," Hermione sighed. "Alright, let me think…I can choose wherever I want to go?" she asked the twins, and they both nodded eagerly.

"'S long as it's in Hogwarts," Fred added and Hermione nodded, frowning as she thought who she wanted to visit.

Her first thought was Sirius…of course she wanted to see him at least one more time before the whole mess last year had happened…but then he thought back to Harry, and how he was crying in the fireplace, and how he really needed a parental figure…and so she thought about James Potter. She could go back and see him, see his habits…tell Harry everything about him, maybe cheer him up a bit…maybe be able to draw him, know what he did, how he felt…

Yes, she though. She was going to go visit James Potter. Plus, she added to herself reasonably. She would probably also see Sirius, seeing as he was Harry's dad's best mate. She did the math in the back of her mind, and concluded that maybe she could visit them somewhere in the end of their fifth year.

"Alright," Hermione smiled at the twins. "I've got where I want to go."

"Brilliant!" the twins said together. Fred carefully placed the Time Pensieve into Hermione's hands. "Don't say anything to it but the time and the person," Fred warned her.

George smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Alright, give it a go!" he said excitedly.

Hermione took a deep breath. "February 1976, James Potter."

She thought she heard a gasp from behind her and a whoosh, and Fred and George shout some angry remarks, but she barely registered this as she felt her whole body twist and turn—she tried to scream but couldn't find her voice and she was falling, falling, falling…

And she stopped falling, her feet hitting the soft grass on the ground. Hermione panted and looked around…and saw, to her astonishment, a much brighter, newer…

She was back in Hogwarts, in the year 1976.