Disclaimer: Not a bit of it's mine, save the plot. All else belongs to that genius known as JK Rowling.

Chapter 3

Several seconds of silence greeted Hermione's statement. Ron's jaw dropped, and he sat looking utterly flabbergasted. Hermione was staring at Harry hopefully, waiting to see the spark that came to his eye when he realized what she said was the truth. Harry, however, was determined to beat that spark back.

Time travel? How ludicrous. Granted they had done it before, but that was only a few hours. What Hermione was talking about, it would have to be at least three months, for Hogwarts to be still standing. More if all the little spiders they had seen earlier were flocking to Aragog. Impossible. But Dumbledore had called him James….

The professor occupying Harry's thoughts sat behind his desk, steepled fingers tapping each other thoughtfully. Until that point, he had barely glanced at Ron and Hermione, being more concerned with getting Harry away from the Great Hall and scolding him. Now, however, his blue eyes followed the brunette pacing around his office. He had, of course, heard and understood what she had said. So instead of speaking to the students before him, he waited until the girl chose to elaborate.

He did not have to wait long. When Harry didn't answer her, she threw her arms up in frustration and spun around so that she was directly in front of Harry, hands on her hips. "Look, it explains everything!"

"What does?" Harry snapped. If Dumbledore thought about it, his voice wasn't really the same as James's, even if his face was. "That we're in the past? Hermione, listen to yourself!"

"I did, Harry! I ran it all over in my head, and it makes sense! Hogwarts is up. Why? Because it was never destroyed! There are students out there because there hasn't been a threat yet! And you heard what he called you!"

"So what?" Harry asked crossly.

"Don't you dare say so what!" Hermione spat back, "You see the connection. You know you do, and I know you do. You just won't accept it! Why?"

"Because it can't be happening!" Harry was standing now too, glaring down at the girl before him.

Hermione glared back with just as much fervor. "Why not? You want it to be happening; I know you do! It's logical, everything fits, so why won't you believe it?"

Harry shook his head, "It's too perfect," he replied quietly.

Hermione looked at him sadly, and lightly directed him back to his chair, "I know you've had it hard, Harry," she said. "Probably harder than Ron or I, for that matter. But we've gone through some pretty tough times too, and look at us. We're willing to believe it- to take advantage of it. Just- just sit there, and listen, and try to accept this. It's real. I'm positive it's real."

She returned to her seat and looked at the bearded man watching them with interest. "You've been quiet, Professor."

"I have been attempting to deduce who you were, and what was going on, Miss-?"

"Granger."

Dumbledore nodded, "Miss Granger, then. I must admit to being slightly confused. I have gathered that you three are in the past, he is Harry, he is Ron, and Harry is being incredibly stubborn. I have an inkling as to the hard times you spoke of. However, I believe it would behoove us all if one of you explained what was going on."

Because Hermione was the most orderly and articulate of the three, it naturally fell upon her to explain situations. That was how it had always been whenever explaining was needed. She was so comfortable in her role as explainer that she didn't pause to consult Ron or Harry anymore, she simply folded her hands, sat up a bit straighter, and began.

"It's actually quite a long story, Professor, with far too many places where I could begin. I suppose I should start where everyone starts when talking about Harry, though. There was a dark wizard, and he was unstoppable…"

She quickly narrated the story of their lives, telling only the stories that concerned Voldemort (she had decided while talking to Dumbledore that it probably wasn't wise to tell Sirius's story, since she had not analyzed the repercussions it would have in their time). When she got to their last battle against Voldemort, she turned to look at Harry.

"I- I don't recall what happened between Harry and Voldemort. I guess I was dead." Harry winced when she said this. "But then the three of us were in this blue mist, and there was a voice telling us it was giving us a second chance. Then we were here. Naturally, we were all a bit upset. Like I told you earlier, our Hogwarts was destroyed. So Harry broke down," this earned her a glare from her friend, "and you saw that. When you were bringing us here, you kept calling Harry 'Mr. Potter', and none of us thought anything of it, because that's who Harry is. Then you called him 'James' and it all just sort of clicked into place for me. You see, Harry's been told his entire life he looks exactly like his father."

During the entire telling of their tale, Dumbledore had reacted only a few times. He nodded occasionally to show that he was listening, or that he understood. He sighed sadly when Hermione spoke of all the deaths and what had occurred at Hogwarts, but none of his previous responses had been as massive as the jolt of shock that ran through him when he heard Hermione's last sentence. He stared at Harry for a few incredulous moments before saying, "Yes. Yes, it does make sense. The similarities are remarkable. You're eyes, though- they're not your father's."

Harry shook his head. He had been listening to Hermione and Dumbledore talk as silently as Ron had (Although he was sure that Ron had already accepted what was going on eagerly and was quiet only because he wasn't listening to the story of his life. He had, after all, already lived it. Why listen again?). Harry's silence wasn't that of disregard, though; it was contemplative.

He desperately wanted all this to be true. He wanted to believe that Hermione was right, as always. He wished that he could believe it as easily as Ron and Hermione, but he couldn't. But as he listened to Hermione talk, he became less and less sure of why he couldn't. She was right. In their magical world, unexpected time travel was a logical explanation. Everything really did fit. So why was he still holding back?

When Dumbledore commented on his eyes, he threw caution to the wind and allowed belief to swarm over him. It rushed him like a wave that had been restrained for hours, building power yet not allowed to go anywhere. When it enveloped him, everything felt right. He was in the past. His best friends were alive. Hell, everyone was alive. And in the past, he could keep it that way. Why not? Hermione's voice had said it was a second chance, and second chances were for making things all better, right? He could save it all.

So Harry looked up, took a deep breath, and spoke. "No, my eyes are my mother's."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Your mother?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, unsure of what the rules were in situations like this. What was he allowed to tell? Hermione just shrugged. It was up to him. "Yeah. Lily Evans."

This caused Dumbledore to erupt into a fit of laughter. "Oh, don't tell Miss Evans that! She may die of horror! You know, I told Minerva that eventually that girl would give in. Shame I can't show her the proof."

"So they're still not getting on?" Harry asked, frowning slightly, "That means we're when? Sometime before their seventh year, obviously."

Hermione smiled slightly at Harry, understanding that he had finally accepted that they were in the past.

Dumbledore shook his head, "No, they just began their seventh year."

Harry nodded in understanding. Ron looked at him curiously, "Why'd you think we were before their seventh year?"

"Dad didn't deflate his ego until their seventh year. It's when they started dating. If Mum still hated him, like Dumbledore said, we had to be before then."

Ron nodded. "So, what are we going to do?" he directed this question to Dumbledore.

"Well, as I have no idea how to send you forward a couple of decades, it would appear that you have only one choice: stay here. I'll have a few extra beds created in the Gryffindor common room, and explain to all the students tonight at dinner that you're here. By the way, what would you have me say to them?"

The three exchanged brief looks, saying without words that they thought the truth would be a very bad idea. Harry looked at Dumbledore, a grin beginning to form on his lips, "Well, I would love to not be Harry Potter for just once in my life."

"Very well. I'll think up a story for you. Exchange student is the most plausible excuse, how are your accents?" Hermione wrinkled her nose, and Ron and Harry looked down, unwilling to accept that they couldn't carry an accent to save their lives, but not wanting to claim they could either. Dumbledore smiled, "Well, you won't be exchange students then. Perhaps a London couple who could have no children of their own adopted you all. Perhaps you were raised in that city for nine years, before your adopted father was sent to Australia by the company he worked for. It could be that you three attended Silverstar Magical Academy for six years before your mother pined for England and your father agreed to move back."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, Professor, that sounds right."

The man nodded, "Very well then. I apologize, but I have a great deal of work to do right now. I trust you know your way around the school?" the three nodded. "Good, good. Find a place to stay until dinner, lunch just ended as it were- that was the meal you walked in on, Mr. Potter. Although it's not Mr. Potter now, is it? Think of a name you three like and work on your story. Just be at the gargoyle before dinner starts, so I can introduce you."

They nodded and stood up, clearly dismissed. As they walked out the door, Hermione turned around, one hand on the doorway. "Um, Professor? How are we going to get back?"

Dumbledore looked at her, blue eyes twinkling, "I think that is a problem meant to be solved at a different time. For now, just enjoy your trip."

She nodded and followed the boys down the stairs.

"Where to?" Ron asked, his arm automatically draping around Hermione's waist.

Hermione, who was looking at his hand and frowning, didn't reply. Harry began walking down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, "Room of Requirement. Nobody will bother us there."

They traveled down the halls of Hogwarts, thankfully not encountering any students on the way. When they got into the Room, furnished comfortably with an array of long couches and deep chairs, the boys turned expectantly toward Hermione. She was the one who made sense of everything and told them what they should do in situations like this.

She took on her expected role almost immediately, sitting on the couch beside Ron while Harry swung his feet over the arm of the chair he was on. "The way I see it, we have three immediate problems. One: our names. We need to pick a last name that's simple, so we can remember it. I don't see any point in changing our first names. There's nobody here who will hear the names Hermione, Ron, and Harry, and send up a red flag."

Ron shrugged, "That's easy enough. Smith's common, right? Nice and simple. Nobody will think twice about it."

Hermione nodded. "Good. The second problem has to do with you, Harry. If you don't want to be Harry Potter, you can't walk around looking like your father's clone."

Harry nodded. He had known that he would have to change his appearance ever since Dumbledore told them they were staying. "Can you change me, then?"

Nodding, Hermione crossed over to where Harry sat, her wand out and ready. "How's blond? That way you can keep your green eyes and they won't look out of place or anything." She quickly cast the charm without waiting for Harry's consent. "Mm. No good. You still look like you, only as if you got in a fight with the hair dye. I'm going to give you some freckles, all right? And let's see. I'll put a Disillusionment charm on your glasses, but don't forget where you put them when you take them off, or we won't find them 'til the spell wears off."

She stood back, inspecting Harry from all angles until she was sure that there was no way he could be mistaken for James. Then she returned to her seat on the couch and laced her fingers through Ron's. "Our third problem-" she raised her and Ron's entwined hands. "This."

Ron's eyes darted from his hand to Hermione to Harry and back again. "Wh- What do you mean, 'Mione?"

Hermione sighed, not looking in Ron's eyes. "I was just thinking… Dumbledore's story. He- he said that we were all adopted young and raised together. Well, that would make us siblings, by blood or not it doesn't matter. And siblings can't…." her voice trailed off.

Ron shook his head vehemently. "Then we'll change the story! For Merlin's sake, it's not as if what Dumbledore said was set in stone! You- you're a girl we met at school. Me 'n Harry got to know you real well, and found out in fourth year you'd been living in a- in a home the past six years! And our parents, they're real good people. They took you out of the home, and you've been living with us for the past two years. So you and me- it's nothing weird. Does that work for you?"

Hermione sighed in relief and relaxed against the couch. "Yeah. Yeah, that works."

There was silence for a little while, before Harry broke it by saying, "So, what do we do now?"

"We wait."