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Hermione wrapped her knuckles on the wood, anxiously tracing the grain lines with her eyes, watching one line fall through another, then rising through a crack, then disappearing into a knot. Good Merlin. . . What was she doing? How on earth had she gotten into this mess in the first place? What made her deserve such a miserable fate?
A reticent "come in" caused her to stir from her musings, and she hesitantly pushed the door open. A low creak emitted from the rusty hinges, making her appearance highly obvious. She supposed it didn't matter whether she was muted in her activities or not, somehow Dumbledore always knew.
Sat behind an obtrusive desk with many little gadgets and trinkets whirring and whizzing upon it and around it, was Dumbledore. His great, slender fingers were set in a steeple as he watched her slowly approach the the crimson chair that was placed before his desk.
His beard was shorter then she'd remembered, not lengthy enough to tuck into his belt as it had been in 1996, but sustained enough to reach his lower chest. His hair was still gray and he didn't look a day older – or, well, younger. He still had an excessive amount of wrinkles, and the familiar, all-knowing twinkle still sparkled in his blue eyes.
Hesitantly, Hermione stepped beside the chair and waited for him to motion for her to sit before moving. When he did, she almost sighed in relief when the plushy cushion cradled her into its lovely red depths.
He seemed almost amused as a few creased lines faded when she sat further into the chair.
She was still trying to conceive what she was going to tell him when he rose from his chair, grabbed a floral bowl, and handed it to her.
"Lemon Drop?"
Hermione blinked several times as she stared at the yellow candies that were shoved in front of her nose. Recoiling just the slightest, she replied, "Um, no, thank you."
He simply nodded and popped one into his mouth before motioning for her to speak.
Gee, thanks. Now I can't remember what it bloody was I was going to say.
Swallowing, she opened up her mouth to speak. "Hello, Professor Dumbledore."
He tilted his head towards her. "Young lady, you seem to know my name, but I do not know yours. . ."
"Sir, please excuse my brashness, but you do know me; or, at least, you will." she puffed out her chest in confidence as she continued before she lost her cool demeanor. "My name is Hermione Granger, Sir, and I am from twenty years into the future. I don't know how I got here, but Death Eaters were involved. I'm a Seventh year in Gryffindor known as the brightest witch of my age. I'm Muggleborn, birthed on the nineteenth of September, 1971. I'll be turning 18 this year, Sir." Hermione finished breathlessly, sucking in a huge gasp of air.
If Dumbledore was surprised, he didn't show it.
"Ah." was all he said.
Then. . .
"Lemon Drop?"
Hermione was about ready to lose it. The floral bowl was once again pressed up against her nose, this time he had a grin on his face.
The old codger!
"Sir!" she cried, shoving the bowl from her face. "This is serious! Will I be able to get home?"
With a sigh, he set the bowl down beside him and pulled his square spectacles from the bridge of his nose. He lifted a single hand and rubbed his eyes wearily, making immediate fear plunge through her body like a bucket of ice-water being tossed into her stomach.
He surveyed warmly, the twinkle now absent from the blue depths. "I am afraid you will not."
Hermione sat back in the chair, its plushy embers now feeling quite close to jagged rocks. He'd confirmed her worst fear – now she would never be able to return home to Harry and Ron. What on earth would they do without her?
"I am very sorry. As far as I am aware, Time Turners are the only things that can be used to travel through time, and even they can only bring one back a few hours a day – a week at the most. I'm afraid you will have to stay here until I am able to work something out with a close friend of mine who may just be able to help me with your situation. But if that does not work out," his face darkened. "you will have to remain here."
Feeling extremely downcast, she miserably rested her chin on her palm.
No way? Tears prickled her ducts at the thought of never seeing Ron and Harry again. Well, I'll see them again, just not as I would have originally. . . Or at the same age. . .
This realization made her feel even more afflicted. What in Merlin's name had she ever done?
Dumbledore watched helplessly from his position across from her, waiting for her to compose herself. He did, of course, feel immensely woebegone for her. She was just a young girl, trapped in a time of death and suffering, then thrown back in to an era she wasn't supposed to even exist in. But there was nothing he could do. That's to say, unless Nicholas had theories.
After quite some time of contemplative silence, she spoke quietly.
"I'll need new books; I have a uniform, but I think my old books are far too advanced for this generation." Dumbledore simply nodded, still lost in his thoughtful rendezvous. "Will I need to be resorted?"
"Yes, I'm sorry to say you will. We don't want people getting suspicious." Dumbledore replied, snapping away from his musings. "I assume you have already changed your last name? As it is, you strike me as very intelligent."
Hermione flushed at the complement. "Yes, I've decided on an alias – Hermione Thomas."
"Very good." he nodded. "A commonly used muggle name."
They then stood, Dumbledore offering to walk her to the Great Hall so they could commence with her Sorting. She complied, shakily following his blue robes out of the homey office.
Hermione was a bundle of nerves, what if she didn't get sorted into Gryffindor, but Ravenclaw, instead? No, she told her herself firmly. I was placed there once so I will be placed there again. The Sorting Hat never lies and always sticks to its decision.
The doors opened and Hermione squared her shoulders. Stepping into the room, she almost let out a breath of relief for the familiarity. She began to trudge her way along to the center towards a group of nervous First years. She stood behind them, feeling a little humiliated for having to go through the Sorting again.
She tried her best to ignore the stares and. . . wait, wolf whistling?
Hermione's head almost snapped off as she looked in the direction of the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and even the Slytherin table. What the bloody hell. . .?
"Thomas, Hermione." Professor McGonagall said, shooting a withering glare in the direction of all the tables.
Stepping up to the sorting hat, she sat on the stool and felt a little foolish when her feet touched the floor. Professor McGonall placed it on her head, stepping back and watching with baited breath along with the rest of the Hall.
"Ah. . . Interesting; a Time Traveler? I haven't had one of you for at least a hundred years, and his demise didn't end too well, either." Hermione almost peed herself at this. "But the question is, where to put you? Hmm. . . I see you'd do well in Hufflepuff – your loyalty has no bounds. . ."
Not Hufflepuff. Not Hufflepuff.
"Not Hufflepuff, eh? You're quite right, far too many brains here. . . It seems you'd bode well in Ravenclaw. . . Yes, they'd help you on your path to greatness. . ."
No, no, no, no, no, no – Hermione chanted mentally. Gryffindor!
"Gryffindor? Ah, I can see that is where I placed you before. . . Yes, you are brave, and very courageous, yes . . . Better be. . .GRYFFINDOR!"
The great hall erupted into applause. Hermione, beaming happily, hoped off the seat to find a place at Gryffindor table. She watched as Sirius shoved James down closer to Lily, giving a gap for her to sit. But Hermione, sniffing in disdain, motioned for James to slide back over to Sirius so she could take the spot between James and Lily.
Sirius looked extremely put out.
"Congrats! Knew you'd be in Gryffindor as soon as I saw you." James said, patting her on the back.
"Thanks. . ." Hermione said meekly.
"Why did it take so long?" Remus asked.
"Did it take long? Really, I was having an argument with that Hat." Hermione said with a little huff, smiling at their shocked faces. "I didn't want to go to Ravenclaw." she explained.
"Really?" Sirius asked, and opened up his mouth to say something rather dashing – or vulgar, because he just so happened to be excellent at both topics – but was abruptly cut off by the girl sitting on Hermione's other side.
"Hi, I'm Lily Evans. You must be Hermione Thomas." at this, James snorted something sarcastic into his roast that sounded suspiciously like, "No way, how ever did you know?" and was slapped upside the head by Lily. "I'm a Gryffindor Prefect along with Remus Lupin; welcome to Gryffindor."
"Thank-you." Hermione said, dishing herself some potatoes.
"You're sharing a dorm with Alice, Connie and I. We're the only Seventh year Gryffindors, so it'll be nice to have another addition." said Lily, smiling kindly.
Hermione was blatantly surprised by this information, as in her time there were only three Gryffindor girls in her year as well.
"We had two others sharing with us," Lily continued. "But they were killed by Death Eaters in Fifth year."
The girl beside Lily – whom Hermione guessed to be Connie – began to sadly shovel food onto both her and Lily's plate, not realizing she had put about three large spoonfuls of pasta onto her own plate until Lily halted her progress.
Ten minutes into dessert James attempted to start a conversation with Lily, but was rudely snubbed when the fiery redhead turned sharply to Hermione.
"Come on, I'll show you the dorms."
As Lily yanked desperately on Hermione arm, Hermione couldn't help but be taken aback by the hurt look on Jame's face. In fact, the poor boy was so distraught he quickly turned towards his food and stuffed chocolate pudding into his mouth until it oozed out of the corners of his lips.
Getting up, she started to follow Lily towards the Great Hall's doors, but paused and turned back. She bent down and whispered in Jame's ear, "Don't worry, you'll get her eventually." then gave him a encouraging pat on the shoulder and followed Lily out into the stones corridor that lead to the moving staircases, ignoring the untidy haired boy's shocked expression.
A/N Hope you enjoy, and again thank you so much for my amazing Beta!
Please review, weather it's one word or how ever many i don't mind!, thanks
Laura,