Author's notes: Well, it seems there's actually some people enjoying this fic, and I didn't even expect anyone to ever find it! Thanks to all of those who read all three episodes, and even more to those that are following the story. You can't even imagine what it means to me.

By the time this gets published, I'll have already started writing the next one, so stay tuned ^^

Disclaimer: None of the characters depicted here belongs to me, and the Harry Potter universe comes from Mrs. Rowling's mastermind.

September, 1977

The morning of September 19th, 1977, found Hermione eating breakfast at the Gryffindor table while reading the Daily Prophet, as she did every morning. She hadn't renewed her suscription since she arrived in this timeline, but for some reason, the small brown owl arrived every morning with her copy of what was happening in the wizarding world. Apparently, magical subscriptions worked beyond time.

It had been four months since she fell through the Veil, and almost three weeks since classes had started in Hogwarts, and she was starting to get used to it. She was getting used to greeting Lily every morning instead of Ginny. She was getting used to going to the Great Hall for breakfast with James and Remus instead of Harry and Ron. She was getting used to grabbing a bite for Sirius and Peter, who usually overslept and had to go straight to their classes. And, to her surprise, she was also getting used to joining Severus every monday for their three-hour Potions class.

Although it would have been hard not to get used to it after that first class.

Around three weeks ago...

As Hermione ran through Hogwarts' halls, all she could think about was all the possible ways to strangle those boys without leaving any evidence. She was about to be late. To her first Potions lesson. Merlindammit.

As she stumbled through the door, she gave out a sigh of relief. There was nobody to be found at the teacher's desk. She walked to what had been her spot in the front row of the class for the past five years, turning her head just enough to cast a playfully annoyed glace towards James and Sirius, who were snickering behind her. 'Bloody prats', she thought. 'They know perfectly well it's their fault I overslept'. They laughed harder as she turned around and got to her seat, keeping her head up defiantly.

She had met them only four days ago, but she already felt like she had known them all her life. She had spent the past four nights with her house mates in the Gryffindor common room. Lily introduced her to the other Gryffindor sixth year, Alice Southwark, who she learned was a Chaser in their house's Quidditch team, where she played with James and Sirius. All four nights were they surprised by the midnight alarm after hours of talking about their previous years at school. Apparently, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter, known as the Marauders, were Hogwarts' main pranksters. Not that she didn't know, Sirius and Remus had told her and her friends plenty of their old stories back at home, but hearing them when nostalgia hadn't yet settled in was more entertaining.

It was because of what she had learned on the previous days that she knew who was to blame for her tardiness. She had woken up to find that her school uniform was suddenly made out of feathers. She'd had to run to McGonagall's office to ask for help, since whenever she tried to transfigure it back it kept transforming again, fluffier and brighter than before. Apparently the Weasley twins weren't the only ones to find bird pranks funny.

Less than a minute had passed when a middle-aged man entered the classroom, preceded by his huge belly. She hadn't met him the previous week, and she felt something wasn't quite right. In all her five years at Hogwarts, it had always been a black, willowing cloak that had stormed the room, slamming the door closed. Then she realized that the owner of those billowing robes wasn't too far away. Scanning the room, she found him on the other side of the classroom. Sitting all by himself sat Severus Snape.

Their teacher introduced himself: his name was Horace Slughorn. He had been teaching potions for almost sixty years, and it didn't take her too long to know why she didn't really like him. When he first asked the class why a sloth brain was required while brewing the Draught of Living Death, she immediately raised her hand. He nodded when she gave a perfect answer -'to stop the drinker from moving in his sleep, Professor'- , but it was only after he learned her last name was McGonagall that he rewarded her with 20 house points. 'How disappointed he'd be if he knew I am just a plain muggleborn...', she thought to herself. She decided to stay silent for the rest of his lessons.

After a thorough two hour introduction to the difficult brewing process, they started to prepare the aforementioned potion. They were supposed to work with a partner given the difficulty, so Slughorn asked Severus to join her in the front row. He gathered his things and moved to the seat next to her, grumbling all the way.

Following an awkward introduction, they decided to split the work between the two, so as not to hinder the progress of their potion. Silently they set to work, Hermione preparing the Infusion of Wormwood and Severus the remaining ingredients. She noticed how he muttered an approval when she crushed the wormwood before adding it to her cauldron, getting a stronger and better reaction from it.

She also noticed how he scribbled over his textbook, crossing the author's instructions and writing in his own in tiny, spidery handwriting. At first she felt nervous about the changes, thinking they wouldn't make it in time, but when they were finished after barely 35 minutes, she couldn't help but gape at him.

Yes, he was silent, introverted and didn't seem to give his hygiene much thought. But she realized then and there what he was a true genius. She smiled at him and thanked him for his work, and she could be damned if she hadn't actually seen Severus Snape blush.

After earning a hundred points each for being the first students to succesfullly prepare the Draught of Living Death in Slughorn's class, they both picked their belongings and left the classroom together, not before Hemione sent a mocking look towards James and Sirius, who seemed to have managed to brew a very realistic looking cauldron of mud.

That first time Snape left hurriedly after muttering a small goodbye, but it wouldn't be too long before Hermione would get the opportunity to get to know him better.

Hermione smiled after remembering the satisfaction of earning 120 points for her house on her first day of Potions. The only time she had seen something like that happen was back in second year, when Snape was on full Gryffindor-hating mode and gave Draco Malfoy 60 points for breathing. Twice.

As she was finishing her breakfast, Hermione felt a presence behind her. Turning around, she found herself facing Albus Dumbledore's twinkling gaze.

"Good morning, Miss McGonagall", he greeted her. "How are you finding your new school?".

Following his lead, since he knew perfectly well that she was familiar with Hogwarts, she was quick to reply. "It's pefect so far, professor".

"That's great, my dear", he said, his eyes still twinkling. "Could you please meet me in my office next monday after class? Minerva wanted me to discuss some matters with you".

After she nodded in agreement, he excused himself, saying it just loud enough for her new friends to hear it. "Have a nice day, Miss McGonagall. And happy birthday".

She looked back into her paper, noticing the date, and realized that yes, she was now seventeen years old.

As her friends exploded in congratulations and cries of reproach for not telling them, she gazed again towards his retreating figure, a twinkle still in his eyes. 'Damned old man', she thought with a smile.