In Which, Hermione tells a Lie

Author's Note: This chapter is where we get the first glimpse of... well, the darker side of the story.

Many thanks to Tyrannic_Puppy for providing comments and beta work on this chapter.

Disclaimer: Does everyone believe the girl who sets teachers on fire, tricks them into giving her unlimited access to forbidden books, steals ingredients from them, brewed a restricted potion in a bathroom, and illegally used a dangerous time-travel artefact to rescue an escaped prisoner is an authority worshipping teacher's pet? If so, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and whoever else she sold the rights to.

6th of July, 1995, A Place to Grow Old, the Forest of Dean

Hermione wasn't really a morning person. She was compared to her peers, but really when it came down to it she was far too used to staying up late studying to be a morning person. The fact that she was waking up at three AM, from a sleep that was magically induced the day before, didn't exactly make it any better. There were mornings, and there were mornings, this was definitely one of the latter.

As she groggily got dressed and prepared for their plan - they both had to be wearing identical clothes, identical everything. Mia had even gone so far as to have their hair cut so that it matched perfectly. It had turned out to not be much more than a trim for either of them, but still. Hermione felt ready, or at least as ready as she ever did for anything, which meant she was wishing they had an extra month in which to prepare for this rather convoluted plan, even if she wasn't the one bearing the brunt of the risk.

Overall she had come to the realisation that Mia, whether she was right about the Weasleys and Dumbledore or not - she sincerely hoped it was not - was right about one thing; Magic is terrifying. They had learnt about the 'Unforgivable' Imperius Curse from Professor Moody... the disguised Bartemius Crouch, but that was only one thing. One of many. The Obliviate spell was harder to use on magicals than muggles, but that didn't mean it doesn't work at all - add in love potions, compulsion charms, Confundus, even just Petrificus Totalus, and magic became a young girl's worst nightmare.

That she had never even considered it before was shocking.

That no one seemed to care enough to inform them was terrifying.

She had come to that realisation on her second day, five days ago, and had thrown herself into studying - reading and questioning Mia - everything she could about ways to protect herself. Some of them even made magical culture make more sense. Most Purebloods were taught to be careful about any gifts they receive outside of their immediate family, having them checked for unexplainable magic before use, - 'The Firebolt!' Her brain, always eager to be right, gleefully provided - explaining why it was such a big deal to receive presents from outside your immediate family, as well as to only completely trust food prepared by family, or allied, house-elves.

Because house-elves were unable to harm humans without express orders from or in direct defence of their masters while bonded, which included their food harming someone. Most apparently went out of their way to prevent it as part of their duties, safeguarding those too careless to safeguard themselves. 'Which explains in part why they're relied on so much, they're effectively cupbearers as well as slaves,' she thought grimly, 'And that I had anything in me from Hogwarts means Dumbledore's doing something with the food... even if it was just meant for Harry, we take from the same platters, and occasionally each other's plates. As Mia said, it could be a side-effect of sitting near Harry.'

She wasn't about to declare him evil, but her illusions of the Headmaster's grandeur were quite badly shaken, and his work to keep Harry tied to him had become ever more blatant the more she looked. What Hermione couldn't yet say was that it was malicious, despite Mia's clear, if unstated, opinions on the matter. She had come to trust the other girl, she never told Hermione what to believe, what to think, just tried to give her facts and knowledge with which to protect herself and form her own opinions, but they did disagree on several things.

Harry's letter had pushed her more towards agreeing with Mia about the Headmaster, he was, if not malicious towards Harry, at least outright neglectful of his duties to him Hedwig had shown up yesterday and - after several minutes of looking between the two of them with the most confused expression Hermione had ever seen on an owl - given them the letter.

The itself letter had been Harry complaining about being brushed off by the headmaster when he wrote to him about a nightmare-vision, ignored and told to 'Stay in the house, everything will be fine'. They had both started an unnervingly in sync diatribe about the Headmaster and that, he had no business telling Harry he had to stay in a house of child abusers, behind wards which don't even work anymore. Harry might not have physical scars outside of his short stature from living with the Dursleys - whilst Hermione liked him not towering over her, she felt awkwardly conflicted about it because of that - but the emotional damage had become clear to see after Mia's descriptions of his childhood. All guilt for that, while shared by those horrible people, could also be linked back to Albus Dumbledore.

Regardless of her growing distaste for the Headmaster, or the far more touchy subject of her red-headed friends and their family, she had done her best to listen and learn. Rudimentary Occlumency was useful for her memory as well as protecting her mind, and with her imagination feeding her nightmares with potions she had practised the detection spells enough she could point cast them, or at keep the wand movements subtle. She had almost gone for a rune that promised to prevent the effects of love, loyalty and other such potions - until she had read the details.

Blood magic, and worse, blood magic requiring the sacrifice of a sapient to work at all. And all would have done was tie her to a specific individual, whom any outside influences would be redirected to. The Rune itself was clever, brilliant, making it so if someone tried to make her love, befriend or trust another with a potion or spell it would instead redirect those feelings towards the person she had chosen. But that was hardly what she wanted. Even if it hadn't required killing it wouldn't have been what she wanted. Her free will was sacrosanct, everyone's free will should be sacrosanct, which was why she cared about the house-elves so much. Just changing who she would be suborned to wasn't acceptable.

She had also thought to learn more about the future, but Mia was reluctant to tell her. She suspected it was a mix of not trusting her Occlumency yet and the fact that she hadn't yet made a decision about the Weasleys. Or rather, hadn't made the decision Mia wanted, so anything Mia said about the future - even if it was real - would leave Hermione more conflicted about her association with the time-lost girl.

Hermione truly didn't want to think badly of the Weasleys, some things had begun to seem strange about their behaviour in hindsight and she regretted not objecting when she had been told the childhood story about Molly's usage of love potions, but it felt like it would have been rude at the time. 'There just isn't any evidence.' She thought, planning on waiting to make her judgement until after she has had an opportunity to examine the Weasley's behaviour herself.

Having finished dressing she pulled herself out of her ruminations. She had expected Mia to have come and collected her by now, the girl was usually awake and preparing a meal when Hermione woke up. Not that she ever seemed to sleep well, always looking half-dead in the mornings. But then, this time she had given Hermione an alarm clock charmed to wake her up, 'Maybe it was her only one?' she wondered.

She walked through the dark tent and made her way to the other girl's room, a room she had avoided entering before. There was still something disturbing, uncanny, about seeing her own face worn by someone else each day, especially one so different from herself. 'Six months cannot have made that much of a difference,' she mused, 'it's probably a side effect of the memories... but how bad could they really be?' She knew that she didn't understand psychology all that well, or the effects of traumatic events on a person. Even the dementors in her third year didn't really count as a traumatic experience for herself, as she lacked something substantial enough for them to dredge up from her memories and affect her that deeply. Her experience being petrified didn't count either, since she hadn't been aware for any of it - it had been unsettling and deeply disturbing to lose time and to know she had nearly died, but not traumatising.

She opened the door and with trepidation she slipped inside. Upon stepping past the threshold she heard whimpering and stifled sobs, 'Silencing charms? Why would she...' along with - as she edged closer - whispered cries of "No, not Harry. Harry. Please, it hurts."

As she realised Mia was having a nightmare she moved more quickly, reaching over to shake her awake by the shoulder - but as she touched the other girl's clammy skin everything twisted and something wrong snapped into focus

Early Morning, 30th of July, 2005, Longbottom Manor

"Hello, Neville."

"Huh?"

"I said, 'Hello, Neville'"

"Hermione?!" his shock is apparent, but he breaks out into a grin, "Oh thank Merlin! We all thought you were dead!"

Hurts.

She tilts her head to the side, "Why, Neville?"

"Huh? Why did we think you were dead? We were worried about you, after what Luna did to-"

"Ah. You seem to have forgotten. No, why 'Thank Merlin'. Personally, I'd thank Luna these days." Her stare is unnerving, unblinking "After all, she is the only one who had any honour. The only one with any morals."

"What are you on about... Oh. Oh no." He pales slightly, "But it had to have been consensual..."

"Consensual? Is that what you were told?" She gives a hard laugh, it gives off the impression of broken glass tearing open old wounds, "There is no consent in the world of Mother Molly. Only one big, Happy, Weasley family."

Hurts. Want it to stop.

"I... I didn't know. I thought you-"

"Liar."

Not allowed to give up. Keep living.

"No! It's true!"

"Liar. You just wanted to enjoy yourself, just like all the others. An offered sample in exchange for silence. Such a good Friend. So loyal. So Noble." Her voice which had remained cold throughout, suddenly heats into vicious anger, "And the worst part, you had me at the worst possible time. You. Kept. Me. From. Harry. You! You made me abandon him!" her voice rising to a screech "He NEEDED Me!"

Sixth year. Hurts. Why. Why Leave him Alone. Hurts. Harry.

She settles down.

"Unforgivable."

Neville lunges for his wand, which had been idly left on a nearby table - unnecessary in his own home, in his own greenhouse. He loses the arm.

Make them understand. It hurts so much.

He screams in pain and turns to face Hermione, defiant, but she can see the fear in his eyes.

"I would say try to beg for forgiveness when you meet him, but traitors will never reach the place he resides."

"I didn't betray him!"

"You all did."

With three bursts of red light Neville is rendered unconscious, and Hermione drags him over to one of towards one of the plants, but stops as she remembers something.

Hide it. Hurts. Keep secret. Too many. Don't let them forget.

It hurts.

She goes back, collects his severed arm and brands it with the mark of the Deathly Hallows before reattaching it to Neville's body. After vanishing the spilt blood she finally pushes him into the waiting vines of the plant, which latches on and into his flesh, beginning to drain the life from him.

By morning nothing would be left of Neville Longbottom outside of a dry, empty husk.

Remember the promise, who you promised.

I deserve the hurt. I failed him.

She leaves without looking back at her dying former friend, simply walking out of the greenhouse, calling for her elf, and vanishing.

The investigation later that day would find three dead house elves, their heads hung on the walls of the hall. All marked as dying in defence of their master. No other evidence as to the nature of the killer of the last Longbottom is mentioned.

All Hermione felt when she read about it in the Daily Prophet was a grim sense of satisfaction.

6th of July, 1995, A Place to Grow Old, the Forest of Dean

Hermione found herself collapsed on the edge of Mia's bed when the nightmare ended, breathing heavily and only not outright collapsed on the floor because she seemed to have instinctively clung to Mia's bedding. She was, however, barely able to register her position - her heart was pounding, her lungs gasping for more air, her head screaming.

Wrong, Wrong. Wrong. Neville He- What. No. Violation He- No. Why. Harry. Where's Harry? He's- He- Harry. Betrayed- I No, Never. Harry I. Elf. She, I, Neville, Murdered. No. No. Luna. Friend Luna- Luna killed Ron -saved. Luna. I, I, Harry. Promised.

She twisted around and curled up into a ball, one arm around her knees, the other pressing her hand to her mouth - both to hold back her rising bile and her intense desire to scream. Several minutes later she had managed to bring her breathing under control and she finally felt like she could move without emptying her stomach onto the floor of Mia's bedroom. 'Mia!' She realised, 'Mia's right there!' she stood up and turned to look for the other girl, and saw her rubbing her eyes as she slowly sat upright.

"Her- Hermione?" Mia stumbled over their shared name, something she hadn't done for the last couple of days - a sign she was uncomfortable. Or maybe just tired. "Are you... alright?" Hermione was still in shock and didn't properly register Mia making use of her Occlumency exercises to steady her own ragged breathing and calm herself down.

"I'm fine," Hermione replied, she immediately realised that she had just used Harry's favourite response to that question - and could tell just how fake it sounded, even as the person saying it. "I tripped. Sorry." She lied, knowing it was a terrible lie. She could lie if she had to, but neither enjoyed it nor was good at doing it without prior planning.

The fact McGonagall had never called her out on her lie about the Troll situation from first year still surprised her. Lockhart, in comparison, she had planned out and tricked carefully, although she couldn't be too sure it was her planning and not his own incompetence and gullibility that let her get the unlimited access to the restricted section from the foppish professor.

Her thoughts drifted from the fraud to the trip he and Harry took into the Chamber of Secrets and then onto - 'Harry, he's dead, I-I-' She snapped herself away from the intrusive thoughts from the vision and back to her own, 'It was... It was the future, her future. My. Our-' Realising she couldn't think about it without something intruding, she took a deep breath and forced the thoughts away, 'Focus on the now, deal with the freaky dream about killing Neville with a plant later.'

""... Alright." Mia clearly saw through the lie, but was willing to pretend nothing had happened, much to Hermione's relief. "I'll be ready in half an hour. You have any last minute questions?"

The temptation to ask why she killed Neville, - Violation. Betrayal. - was strong, but she held her mouth shut and shook her head no. As much as normally she would be questioning everything she could, she didn't feel up for I, and her part in the plan was fairly simple, easy and safe. Mia was the one taking all the risks, she just had to follow a memorised lie when they started getting questioned.

She would have to try and figure out why she saw... that, later. When nothing wass happening and she could sit down with a book on the subject of visions. Likely a divination book, if she could find one that was reputable. 'Or, maybe talk to Harry? He- I, Harry he's-' She forced her eyes shut and banished the thoughts again, 'It seems like... his visions. Maybe. Comparing them might help make more sense of it.' She was brought out of her thoughts by Mia speaking up again.

"If you don't need anything, get out. I need to get dressed," Mia idly wiped a hand on her sweat-soaked sheets before grimacing, "and a shower." She was being far more curt than normal - still rattled from the nightmare, Hermione suspected. Hermione did leave the room, pointedly avoiding thinking about what she saw, focusing instead on what she needed to do. She might be able to understand Mia a little better now, but it wasn't the time for introspection.

Half an hour later they left the tent, supplies packed away, plans made, lie prepared and ready to go out to pretend their parents had been murdered. That the death eaters had tried to kill her.

That she had been kidnapped.

She couldn't help snorting in amusement at that last one. The irony of her kidnapper asking her to pretend to have been kidnapped as part of a plan to deceive her best friend and numerous others wasn't lost on her.

6th of July, 1995, Magnolia Road, Little Whinging, Surrey

Harry's summer had, some might say, not been going well. But to Harry it had been going much how his last summer had, only with an extra layer of guilt and worry laid atop of it all. Really, it was one of the better summers of his life, despite all the grinding of teeth, glares and rude questions. If only he didn't have a dark lord to worry about, or hadn't watched someone die thirteen days ago. The fact the Dursleys didn't care if he was in the house helped, going for walks helped ease off the stress, and he was far more comfortable thinking about things - not brooding - as far away from Privet Drive as he could get.

Which was how he ended up sitting on a swing in the playground Dudley used to take kids lunch money in. He still remembered when he had gotten blamed for that and been thrown in the cupboard. These days Dudley seemed to hang around the playground for different reasons, acting far more... shady. Every time Harry'd seen him when he had been outside he had ignored him though, and strangely Dudley had ignored him back, preferring to get on with whatever he was doing. Curious though he might be, Harry had far more important things to worry about.

And that worry, he felt, was perfectly reasonable. As was his desire for information understandable considering the circumstances, but only Hermione had sent back more than a token letter - even when he had a nightmare-vision of Voldemort and tried to tell Dumbledore about it he had been brushed off. At least Hermione believed him, and outside of that mess with the Firebolt, which may have partly been his fault, she had never let him down. Annoyed and forced him to study when he didn't want to, yes, but not let him down.

Hedwig had had the most peculiar expression on her face when she had brought Hermione's letter back though, which puzzled him. Hedwig was always so regal, so unflappable, that seeing her confused was odd. And what could be confusing about Hermione? Outside of her being a girl, the Yule Ball had made things weird for a while. Truthfully, he still hadn't been sure what to do about noticing his best friend was actually female when they had left Hogwarts, and then she had gone and kissed him on the cheek.

Furrowing his brow at the thought, Harry realised he didn't understand girls. At all. He had wanted to go to the ball with Cho because she was pretty, but so were lots of girls. Hermione turning out to be one of them. Parvati had been pretty too, but he had been a terrible date for her, so maybe he should consider more than their looks? Although, dark lord being alive and moving, he knew he wasn't in the best place to be thinking about girls at all.

Since the sun had finally risen, Harry having stayed out most of the night since he couldn't sleep, he started heading back to number four. If he cooked up breakfast for his relatives he could probably get away with a bigger meal simply by eating bits and pieces while he made the food. Even if they were still on the stupid 'Dieting Dudley' plan, which was failing due to the obvious flaw of Dudley having money and access to stores which sold food, it might get him at least a tolerable breakfast.

His plan for getting a better-than-usual meal was suddenly interrupted by twin, very familiar, cries of "Harry!" coming from behind him. Surprised at what he could almost believe was Hermione's voice - in stereo - he stopped and turned around.

Only to experience one of the things which proved that it was, in fact, Hermione Granger who had yelled his name. He was being hugged, quite forcefully, and his vision was being blocked by a frizzy mane of brown hair, hair that was shaking as his friend was sobbing into his shirt. Only... there were four arms wrapped around him?

"Hermione?" he asked somewhat uncertainly, "Is that you?"

"H-Harry! Th-they're d-dead!" he heard her sob.

He tensed immediately, before pulling his arms around the... two crying girls. 'Why are there two?' He wondered.

"They... they killed them, they're d-dead. My... my parents..."

"Tried to kidnap me... Harry..."

"Hermione, did they... did they hurt you? Who killed them?" Harry had absolutely no idea what he was doing, or why he was hallucinating two separate people with Hermione's voice talking to him at once, but he was going to try and comfort her. Them. Hermione... Hermiones? 'This is confusing' Harry thought, his bafflement not aided by his sleep-deprived state. He was fairly sure he wasn't dreaming, or at least, hadn't been. Did he fall asleep on the swing? Dream or not, the crying Hermione - Hermiones - demanded his attention.

He managed to get his face free of the mass of frizz and curls to see that there were indeed two of them, both wearing the same clothes - some rather girlish blue pyjamas with rabbits on them - the same instantly recognisable hair, the same... well, if it wasn't for the fact that Hermione had told him she was an only child he would assume it was her twin. As he looked them over more he realised that they were both in very thin pyjamas, and pressed into him quite closely - he hadn't had many dreams about Hermione before, but if this wasn't one then he would be a lot more. A whole lot more. Even with the seriousness of what they said he could feel his cheeks heating up.

"No, no. I got away before they-" Harry was quickly discovering that two identical, sobbing, voices that were talking over each other and answering separate questions was quite confusing, "D-Death Eaters... they attacked my house, my parents-" much of what they said over the next minute or two is so jumbled he couldn't understand it, broken by sobs and confused by how they talk over each other. He got the idea that she - they - Hermione - was attacked by Death Eaters, her parents had been killed and... she was kidnapped. A broken time-turner, and the rest didn't make sense to him.

"You're okay, you're safe." He whispered, thinking back to how she had tried to comfort him after he came back from the graveyard, before the Moody-impostor dragged him off. "Really, you're safe Hermione." As they both squeezed tighter and sobbed into his shirt he couldn't tell if he was doing anything right. With how distraught they were he sincerely hoped he was dreaming, Hermione wasn't supposed to get hurt. Him wanting to talk to his friends wasn't worth them crying.

One managed to pull herself upright to look him in the eye, her own filled with tears, before burrowing her face into his neck. He felt the other running her hands all over him, as if confirming he was real. While they were still crying, they weren't doing so as fiercely, so he kept muttering what he believed were soothing words, telling them they were safe, that he was there for them. Even as a lump of anger and guilt ran through his chest. He hadn't even thought that his friends might get attacked, that they might not be safe. That no one was protecting them, that no one else had thought of it - even Dumbledore or McGonagall who always talked about how impressive Hermione was - made him angry. Someone, somewhere, should have been keeping her safe, and they hadn't. He should have been keeping her safe, and he hadn't.

The fact that immediately following those thoughts a woman in red robes he didn't recognise shrugged off an invisibility cloak and grabbed the Hermione who didn't have her face burrowed into his neck - he was still very confused by there being two of them - and pulled her away from him did not go down well. Instinctively he reached for his pocket where he kept his wand.

Meanwhile, the woman had begun speaking, "Get off of him and identify yourself, Harry you can't ju- OW!" the woman yelped as Hermione - the one she had grabbed - head-butted her, hard. Then the other Hermione who had still been clinging to him jumped the woman, snatching her wand away, just as the first pulled back her arm, made a fist, and slammed it into the woman's face, breaking her nose with a sickly crunch - much like Hermione had to Draco Malfoy just over a year ago. The woman promptly fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, and Harry was surprised to hear a satisfied huff from both Hermiones.

"It's like Fred and George." He muttered, "Except... it's Hermione." He realised they had heard him when both glance at him, one catching his eyes and holding them while the other - the one who had punched the woman - straddled their assailant and pinned her to the ground. The look he was given by them, and he still was being given by one, had him realise two Hermiones could either be a blessing or a curse. On the plus side, they would have more time to help him with schoolwork and talk. On the negative side, they had more time to make him do his schoolwork and make him talk.

He was a bit conflicted about that.

He was a little less conflicted about his opinion on what they were wearing, and he couldn't help but blush. He could hope, however, that they thought he was blushing because they had noticed what he had said rather than because he was looking at them.

He quickly turned back to the woman - trying to pretend he hadn't just imagined inappropriate things involving his best friend - who was now sporting red hair, 'Am I delirious? I know I didn't sleep, but she had brown hair before, right?' and pointed his wand at her. With one Hermione pointing her wand at her while shaking, and the other pinning her to the ground while hyperventilating he was surprisingly the calmest of the three of them - 'Are we going to be the golden quartet now?' he thought, suffering a little from his lack of sleep - With neither Hermione in a fit state to do so for him he decided to ask a few questions.

"Who are you and why did you try to grab Hermione?" He didn't even try to keep the anger out of his voice, although he hoped it didn't show just how tired he was.

He only received a groan in response from the woman, but the shaky Hermione seemed to let out a puff of relief as he took charge, and the other Hermione. She decided to scream in the woman's face.

"ANSWER HIM!" He could hear her ragged breathing and saw her frame shaking. Even with his worry for his friend - friends - he still flinched from her shout, hearing Hermione get that loud usually ended with something bad happening to him or Ron. Deserved, usually, but still unpleasant.

"Tonks... I'm one of Harry's guards..." The woman moaned, "Blimey, I got taken out by a pair of teenagers..."

It took a moment to process the woman's words, but when he did, Harry nearly exploded "Guards? I have Guards?!" To say he was angry to learn he had guards - especially after learning Hermione's parents were dead - was an understatement. "If I have guards, why did something happen to Hermione?! If you've been here, why have I been left in the DARK and told NOTHING?!"

His rant is cut off by the free-standing Hermione - he briefly considered the fact he would need a way of differentiating them, if this was permanent - grabbing him and pulling him into another hug, one less bone crushing than normal as he found his head pressed into her chest with her chin atop his head. "Harry... it's... please, don't get angry. I-" Her voice hitched in an unpleasant way, "I - I hate seeing you like this." And he could then feel moisture dampening his scalp as she turned and pressed her cheek to the top of his head. She was crying again.

He simply wrapped his arms back around her and wriggled his head free,somewhat regretfully, so he could glare at the woman, Tonks. He tried to keep his voice level as he spoke next, "Well, can you explain? Hermione shows up, says her... her parents are dead, and you're my guard? I'm here because it's safe, right?!" he could tell he wasn't doing too well at remaining calm, but so long as it didn't upset Hermione - the Hermiones - more, he didn't care. "And if it were safe, I wouldn't need guards. So that means you're not a guard - you're a watcher! To keep me from leaving!" He could feel Hermione make a little squeak in surprise at his revelation, and then she squeezed him tightly. He couldn't tell for certain, but something told him that she was proud, and that felt good.

What he had planned to say next was cut off by three loud Cracks echoing across the playground, drawing the attention of both Hermiones and himself. He was shocked to see Professor McGonagall, Moody and another unknown woman, all standing where Tonks must have come from.

Tonks, who had suddenly grappled Hermione while they were distracted, rolled herself and Hermione upright, then locked Hermione's arm behind her back, eliciting a yelp of pain from Harry's friend. 'Stupid. Stupid! You stopped paying attention! Hermione's hurt!" Glaring at Tonks, leaving the newcomers ignored again, Harry growled, "Let. Her. Go."

Somewhat to his surprise, after glancing to the professors and the new lady, she did. Hermione glared at her, then rushed back over Harry - standing at his right with her wand ready. The other Hermione, who had hugged him, had let go and was flanking him on his left, still with tears running down her face. It was odd, the two didn't seem to be reacting entirely the same - one with anger, one with sadness. Both were still undeniably Hermione, which continued to boggle his mind.

Professor Moody was the first to speak, "Well. This is an odd one. Girl! Hm, Girls! What was the first and last thing I taught you this year?" Harry was more than a little confused by his question, Moody, the real one, hadn't taught them anything- Harry's mind snapped to attention 'Is this another impostor?!'

Fortunately for Harry, the Hermiones were slightly - significantly - more awake than he was, so they both just said, disturbingly synchronised, "Nothing and nothing, I've never met you before." once they finished they looked at each other and both scrunched up their noses in thought. Harry suddenly found it hard to continue focusing on the professors, as he was once again hugged from both sides by Hermiones, sobbing into his shirt.

"Perhaps we should put up some wards and take a seat, give them a chance to explain themselves." McGonagall's no-nonsense voice cut across the sobbing, but didn't cause it to relent. Her suggestion did seem as good as any other though, and he at least trusted his stern head of house a little. So after fixing Tonks with a glare, he gave McGonagall a small nod.

Soon they were all sat on comfy chairs - not Moody, he was 'setting up a patrol pattern' or something - although after some more clinging and silent glaring, McGonagall upgraded Harry's seat to a comfy settee that fit him and both Hermiones. "Mister Potter," Harry was surprised McGonagall was addressing him before the girls, "I am surprised to see you awake and out of your home so early in the day. Is there a reason for your behaviour?" Harry couldn't help but frown, McGonagall was talking to him as if his behaviour, as of not staying in that house was deplorable.

Maybe she thought it was, she, like Dumbledore, probably wanted him to stay in the house with his relatives, believed they were getting along happily as only blood relations could. As he felt somewhat annoyed by her tone, he decided to be obtuse and said, "Couldn't sleep." as if those two words explained everything. The look he received in response told him he had won the Annoy McGonagall prize for the day, but thankfully she didn't press further.

"Miss... Misses Granger," There was a flicker of either annoyance or confusion that crossed his head of houses' face when she spoke, which showed that she, just like Harry, had no idea what was going on with the duplicate Hermiones. "Can you prove which of you are, in fact, Miss Granger?" He felt them shift around at McGonagall's words, but rather than look he kept up his stare at the Transfiguration professor. He felt insulted that she believed he wouldn't be able to tell his friend from a fake.

So he flatly stated, "Both of them." He felt the one on the right wince at that, digging herself deeper into his side.

"We can... prove it, Professor." The other one said weakly. She then put her mouth to his ear and whispered into it, "Books and cleverness, but there are more important things... like friendship, bravery and..." she paused for a moment and he thought she was done, "and... and love." He heard her choke back a sob as she started crying into his shirt again. He finally had an answer to what she had tried to say back in first year, he had wondered, although what she meant by it he still didn't know.

The first one, Hermione-on-the-right, put her head by his other ear - seemingly having noticed what her other self had done - and said, "I'm going to bed, before either of you come with another clever idea to get us killed - or worse, expelled." she also continued after a brief pause. "I really didn't have the right priorities back then, did I?" A quick glance showed her face to be flushed with embarrassment, even under her tear stained cheeks.

He returned to staring at his professor, "They both know things only Hermione should, neither is a fake."

A voice from behind him startled him into nearly throwing both girls off of the settee, "A likely story, hah! No, it's probably a batch of Polyjuice and some clever questioning." Moody had gotten behind them, his peg-leg having gone completely silent during his 'patrol'.

"Then why do they have the same wands? They're supposed to be unique, aren't they?"

Moody scoffed, "Sure. Just like a person's unique - takes a bit of effort, but anything can be mimicked."

Harry frowned at the man he had never met, but felt like he knew - bloody impostor - and said, "Then we'll just have to wait until Polyjuice would have worn off, won't we?" He nearly growled again, but managed to prevent himself from doing so.

"Aye. In the meantime, they can try to explain how there's two of 'em, we need to hear it if by some means they aren't under polyjuice." He stomped off back onto his 'patrol', walking in circles around the playground. His peg-leg mysteriously making sound again as it impacted the tarmac.

Hermione-on-the-right shifted slightly, pulling herself away from him with a sniffle, "Okay, I... I was the one who, who duplicated. So I'll try to..." She sniffled again, so he stuffed his wand in his pocket and grabbed her hand - it seemed like the right sort of thing to do. When she gave him a little smile he knew he had done it right, and decided to do the same for Hermione-on-the-left. He suppressed a wince and decided he would never tell her, either of them, that it felt like his hands were being painfully crushed. Something had given Hermione a monstrously strong grip.

"I'll explain." Hermione-on-the-right said, much more confidently, "It was... I was awake at home. Harry's letter two days ago... it was worrying, so I couldn't sleep until much too late in the night. I was reading when I heard a crash downstairs, my parents..." she forced back a sob, "they, they woke up and went downstairs. When I heard shouting I sneaked a look down the stairs into the hall and, and... I saw a man. In black robes and silver a silver mask, he... he..." Her voice broke but she managed to force out the words, "h-he kill-ed m-my d-dad. Us-ed th-e killin-g c-urse.",

She didn't get better as she continued, "Mum, she-she, s-he was- the... cruic-cru-cruicatus." She stopped and buried herself in Harry's side again, sobbing openly. Both of them were sobbing into his sides, somewhat distractedly Harry mused that he needed to wash the shirt quite badly after this, before shaking his head and realising how insensitive his thoughts were. He looked over his assembled... guests, McGonagall had her stern face, as always, but had gone a startling shade of white. Tonks was looking surprisingly professional - and had fixed her broken nose at some point, which Harry was strangely annoyed by - the other woman was just looking at the three of them judgmentally, as if Hermione was at fault for being attacked somehow.

He felt a twinge from his scar and a surge of anger, Hermione had just lost her parents and this woman was daring to look at her like she had done something wrong.

No one spoke, but Harry's glare of anger and swell of magic filled the air with his clear displeasure without need for words. After a minute Hermione-on-the-left had calmed down enough to speak, "Um, I... after, after mum," she gripped Harry's arm tightly, squeezing it as hard as she could "I... I tried to run. Jumped out my, out of my window into a tree- and... there were, there..." she was shaking as she continued, "Two. There were two of them. Death Eaters. In the, my, garden." Harry had never heard Hermione so inarticulate before, and it worried him. "When I..."

"When I-" Hermione-on-the-right picked up as the other paused, "-landed they both grabbed me and... disapparated. I, I didn't hear - not properly, but... they, they wanted to... to have fun with me before killing me. I, was... in a cell. They took my wand and bag and shut the door on me." She seemed to have gotten into stride, and was going back into her lecture mode - something Harry found comfortingly normal, "One stayed to keep an eye on me at first, the other made him promise to, um, not start without him." She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut, but didn't stop talking, "Then there was a- a- crash, he left to investigate. I don't know why, but they hadn't locked the cell? I got out and grabbed my wand and... and this." She reached under her pyjama top and pulled out something Harry and McGonagall both recognised, he simply stared, McGonagall audibly gasped.

She had a time-turner, a rather old, battered and broken looking time-turner. The metal was warped in places, the metal rings that suspended the sand-bottle twisted, broken and disconnected. "I... I used it to try to escape. I thought to run at first. If I ran before they even arrived I would have been safe, but... it only went back a few minutes. I was barely in the next room when I heard them apparate in, and myself get thrown in the cell. I stumbled into a table and made the crash I had heard, so I... I hid. When the first one came out I, I used... I used Diffindo on him." She curled up into Harry, breathing hard - Harry could guess what had happened. Flitwick had warned them that while not traditionally a curse, the severing charm can be lethal if used improperly, or in this case, properly.

After waiting a minute, Hermione-on-the-left started talking again, having decided that her counterpart wasn't going to continue, "When I used the time-turner it... it just sort of felt like a, a tug. Like something had pulled on my magic. It vanished and left me standing there. I knew I wouldn't get a better chance anyway so I... I followed the second Death Eater as quietly as I could - there were no windows and no other doors - and... I saw him standing over his partner, who was on the floor bleeding out from his... from his neck. I didn't, I didn't think. I just tackled him from behind. When I did, she-" she gestured at her duplicate weakly, "-saw that and she used the banishing charm on a chair. It hit him in the chest and he went down to the ground."

"We took their wands," she fished around in a pocket and dropped two wands onto the ground, staring at one of them longer than the other, "and then... I, I obliviated the one who, who hadn't died." She lifted her head and gave a look Harry couldn't quite place at Tonks, "The one she, um, I? Killed, he, he had robes on underneath his... uniform. Red ones. Exactly like hers." She pointed at Tonks, accusingly.

"Buggering hell, there was a mole in the Aurors?!" Tonks burst out, before shrinking under a reproving glare from McGonagall.

"Miss Granger, continue. Please." McGonagall said, with a tinge of worry in her voice.

"Right. After that I, well we, spent a bit of time just... talking. We don't know how it happened, except the time-turner must have been broken, but we knew we couldn't stay. We left and... we were near here. In Little Whinging, near the train station. Some kind of Death Eater safehouse, I think."

Moody piped up from nearby again as soon as she said that, "Safehouse? Girly, tell me where it is. Now."

She turned to look at him, blinking away some of the tears she kept crying, "Um, At the far end of Magnolia Road - number five-hundred and thirty-two. It was... broken looking, muggle repelling charms I'm guessing- I don't-"

"Thanks, girl. I'll check it out shortly." Moody said briskly.

"After we got out and found out where we were we came here. We were..."

"Distressed," Hermione-on-the-right said, her voice hoarse from crying.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall started, "if we can validate these... events, we will. We are approaching the expiry of any polyjuice, and if Alastor-"

"Mad-Eye, Minny," Mad-Eye said, his eye spinning about as if in jest.

McGonagall scoffed at his friendly tone, "if Mad-Eye, goes to take a look at this... safe house and finds your version of events accurate, along with the lack of polyjuice we will have reason enough to believe your claims."

No one said anything more until the woman - Emmaline, according to Professor McGonagall - mentioned that an hour had passed, and neither Hermione could be under polyjuice. Mad-Eye also went and came back, saying that Snape, of all people, had gone with him to the safehouse and found Corban Yaxley dead, and Gregory Goyle senior unconscious and drooling from an overpowered Obliviate.

"The girl did good work on them both. Even if the Ministry lets them go Yaxley's dead and Goyle's going to be in St. Mungos for a while." Mad-Eye looked at each Hermione, seemingly with pride, "You did well getting the drop on Yaxley, he must've gotten lax in his old age." Neither of the Hermiones seemed particularly proud, or happy to be reminded they had killed someone - and Harry realised they had watched someone die, like he had with Cedric.

He pulled them a little closer, almost nodding off while entangled in their embrace on the settee.

"So," Mad-Eye said, "Not Polyjuice, their story matches the evidence, and there was a mark for 'permissible magic' at her house, put out yesterday to stop the Trace triggering. It seems" He stressed the word as if it were a curse, "like they're being honest. Could still be spies though." He said, almost wistfully.

Hermione-of-the-Right sleepily murmured "Constant vigilance..." which got a barking laugh in response from the paranoid ex-Auror.

McGonagall had gotten up and dispelled all of the seats other than the settee before Harry realised he had been nodding off again, both Hermiones were missing from his sides. One was being held by Emmaline and looked defeated, the other appeared to be trying to scream her head off, despite magical ropes tying her down and the silencing charm that must have been put on her.

"What?" He growled, "What are you doing to them?!"

"Mister Potter, they can't stay here - so we're taking them back to Headquarters. There will be space for them there." McGonagall answered.

Harry didn't care that it made sense, that he couldn't keep them with him at the Dursleys, so he Snarled at his professor. "Did you ask them first? Or did you just-" He was interrupted by a Crack as Emmaline vanished with the defeated looking Hermione, "You didn't did you! You're kidnapping them just like the Death Eaters! I can't believe this, you abandon her to Voldemort-" McGonagall flinched, both from his accusations and his use of Tom Riddle's assumed name, "-and then kidnap her! Them! If you're taking them, you can take me too!"

"No, Mister Potter. As I'm sure Dumbledore has informed you, you need to remain with your... family." McGonagall said, but he can hear the distaste in her voice as she mentioned his relatives. He will never consider them his family. "Miss Granger, if you calm down I will let you say goodbye to Mister Potter. You are coming with us either way, but this childishness is beneath you." Her stern persona was back, and reprimanding Hermione for being upset.

Even as Hermione settled down and nodded Harry seethed, when she was unsilenced her words made him happier - but didn't cut through his anger. "Harry, I promise I'll keep in contact- Letters, I'll find a payphone if I have to. Just... stay safe. Please." She was crying, yet again, "I... I can't lose you. Not now. Not you as well."

A few moments later McGonagall had pulled her upright, drawn her close and apparated away. Leaving Harry alone in the playground with Tonks, the only one to stay behind. He gave her a baleful glare, before declaring "I hate you. My friend was hurt and you, you just!" He turned away, lacking the words to properly express himself.

He stared briefly at the settee he had sat with Hermione on, before turning and stomping his way back to number four Privet Drive. He had breakfast to make for his relatives, otherwise he wouldn't get to eat that day. Even if he was just going to sleep through all of it after this.

End Note: As you might suspect, there will be more of those visions as we go along. There are several explanations I came up with as to why they happened when I decided to do this, but I have settled on a single one so feel free to try to guess it.

Secondary guessing game: Which Hermione during Harry's POV is Future!Hermione?