Chapter 4

The rest of the week went by rather smoothly once she got into a routine. Spending most of her time working on lesson plans gave her little opportunity to work on the time-turner. On the night of the Start of Term Feast, she took a seat next to Neville, who had just been appointed Head of Gryffindor House. As the older students came into the hall, talking and laughing, she saw many of them wave to the professor sitting next to her. When everyone was seated, the first years were then escorted into the hall by Professor Flitwick.

Drifting off into another daydream, Hermione remembered the first time that she entered through those doors and saw the enchanted world within. She was the only new student to know that the ceiling was charmed to look like the night sky. In fact, she was the only new student to know almost everything about Hogwarts, due to her studying Hogwarts, A History before beginning her magical education. She remembered being nervous about where that Sorting Hat was going to put her. She thought she was destined for Ravenclaw, but was surprised by being sorted into Gryffindor.

Soon, her visions changed for the worse, which had happened quite often since she had been back. All of a sudden, she was running through those doors, with Ron at her heals. The smell of burned flesh and blood filled the air. Dead bodies of her friends were laid out in rows on the floor.

She jumped when she felt Neville grab her hand under the table. "Hermione, stand up," he whispered to her.

Looking at him confused, she realized that the Headmistress had just introduced her to the students as the new Potions professor. Her appearance earned her a round of applause as the children knew her as a war hero and best friend of the famous Harry Potter. Elated that the students knew her, she hoped that being a professor wouldn't be so difficult.

She was wrong.

The first class of her teaching career was third-year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. Not a single student was paying attention to her. The boys constantly misbehaved and didn't have any respect for her. The girls kept looking into their hand-held mirrors and flirting with the boys. No one had opened their books or taken out their supplies to brew the potion assigned.

"Class!" she announced loudly. "Didn't your last professor teach you about the dangers of potion brewing?"

"No, he was a bit of a joke," said a Ravenclaw boy named Jacob Smith.

"Potion brewing is stupid, especially when you can just buy anything already made," added a Slytherin girl named Maria Woodley.

This is going to be a very long year, Hermione thought to herself.

"Fifty points from Slytherin and Ravenclaw," she announced in a calm but stern voice. This caused the students groan, but also to pay attention to her.

"Now, we are going to brew a potion today," she told them. "Since I don't think you have learned much in your past two years, we're going to start out with a simple potion to cure boils."

"But we've done that before," complained Maria with a roll of her eyes.

"Ten more points from Slytherin for speaking out of turn, Miss Woodley," Hermione announced before flicking her wand at the blackboard, causing the directions to appear.

The class got very quiet as they started to gather their ingredients and equipment. Sitting down at her desk, Hermione put her head in her hands, frustrated. She was beginning to understand why Snape had been such an evil bastard.

"Potion brewing is a dangerous art form and must be taken very seriously. Any wrong move could be potentially fatal," she told the class as she walked over to a boy in the front row. Grabbing the porcupine quills out of his hand before he dropped them in his cauldron, she added, "This cauldron must be removed from the fire before the quills are added."

When the class was over, only three students had succeeded in brewing the potion correctly. She made a mental note to speak with the Headmistress as soon as possible. Her next class, seventh-year NEWTs was much better. There were only nine students taking the class, and she felt that their past professor was the reason why very few wanted to take it.

She began the class with a warning that any student not taking this class seriously, or any one behaving out of line, would be asked to leave and receive a T on their NEWT scores. Deciding to heed her warning, the students rapidly sat up straight in their seats and put their books on their desk, ready to be opened. At least the older students understood that their futures were on the line.

After her first day of classes, Hermione retreated to her quarters without dinner. Deciding to take a much needed break from the world of teaching, she grabbed The Magical World of Time Travel by Marylyn Mien off the bookcase and wandered into her bedroom to continue her research. It was the first time since she got to Hogwarts that she was able to work on the time-turner, and she had been dying to delve into Professor Snape's collection. She spent the next several hours devouring the book.

Throughout the first week, Professor Granger began every class with a warning and an exam. The testing would show her just how much these students actually knew about potion brewing, and she was very disappointed when she tallied up the results. The seventh-years were on a fourth-year level, and it seemed that every class was at least three years behind. This was going to be a long and tough year, indeed.

The rest of the month passed by and Hermione was finally getting the hang of being a professor. Students were beginning to realize the dangers of brewing, especially in the fourth-year class of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. A few weeks into the term, the first exploding cauldron occurred. Thankfully nobody was hurt too bad, only a few burns which were taken care of in no time. She'd become as severe a teacher as Professor Snape was, but she also made the class enjoyable. She helped the students create potions while teaching them the dangers as well. The students generally had a fun time during their lessons with the new Potions Professor.

"Minerva, could we speak in private?" Hermione asked the headmistress one night while leaving the Great Hall after dinner.

"Of course," she replied as she showed her new Potion's Professor into an unused classroom.

"My students are ridiculously behind in their education in potions. If you don't mind me asking, what had Davenport been teaching them?" she asked as soon as the door closed behind her.

"Darius was the only person willing to take the position, so therefore it was given to him. I believe he did the best he was able to do. The third-years, in general, are a tough bunch, however. They're at that age where members of the opposite sex are more important than their studies."

"They are," she agreed with a nod. "I'm beginning to respect Professor Snape more and more each day. I understand why he was so strict, potion brewing is incredibly dangerous and kids just don't have the ability to comprehend the hazards."

"You're right," Minerva replied. "Severus was one of the best Potion professors I've ever seen, and he was strict because he was forced to be."

Once October hit and the weather started to get colder, Hermione had much more time to work on the time-turner. The books in her new quarters aided her immeasurably, and after many grueling hours, she finally had a prototype. Sitting in her living room on a rainy Saturday, she twirled the tiny hourglass in her hand. It was similar to the device that she used in her third year, yet slightly different. She had decided to modify it from the original, making it travel by minutes instead of only hours. A few minutes could save a life, she alleged to herself.

Yet, there still seemed to be something she was missing, but couldn't figure out what it was. Jumping up from the sofa, she began pacing in front of the fireplace. With her stomach in knots, she decided that they only way to know for sure was to test it. Turning, she walked into her small private lab and closed the door behind her. Glancing at clock on the wall, she made a mental note that the time was 4:52. She slipped the long gold chain around her neck, and set the time turner to take her into the past by fifteen minutes. She closed her eyes as the world spun around her.

Opening her eyes a moment later, she huffed in defeat. The clock on the wall showed 4:53, it should have showed 4:37. It didn't work… she didn't go back in time. She didn't go anywhere. Walking out of the lab, she reentered her living room and was taken aback. Something wasn't right. Her furniture wasn't the same. The sofas were black and the rug was green. What did I do? How far did I go back? Her heart was racing in her chest. She must've gone back to sometime before she moved in. There was no possible way she could have gone back more than a few months. Even the thought of traveling months was impossible.

Hearing a noise from the opposite side of the room, she spun around and her heart stopped. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. What she was seeing was impossible. A man was standing there… a man she recognized immediately. His shoulder-length black hair was wet, and water droplets were running down his bare torso. He was wearing only a towel around his waist, but his arm muscles were taut as he pointed his wand at her.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he said in a lethal tone.

Hermione couldn't speak… couldn't move. She felt her head begin to spin and her world went black.