Horror and disgust must have been plain on Hermione's face because Black retracted his hand and said, "Bloody hell, my reputation can't be THAT bad. Potter and I muck about quite a bit, but...Or have you heard of my family? They're an evil lot, I know."

Hermione stood up quickly, the chair falling backwards and clattering to the ground.

"I have to go," she said sharply and half ran toward the library's exit.

"Jane!" he called but the door was already swinging shut behind her.

As soon as Hermione was out of the library, she began flat out running. It was after nine o'clock so the corridors were deserted as she ran. Her legs carried her automatically up staircase after staircase until she came to a stop in front of the Fat Lady's portrait on the seventh floor. She wished terribly that she could go inside to her dormitory and lie down in her four-poster. She turned away though, not wanting to wake the Fat Lady and headed down a random corridor.

For one of the first times in her life, she was at a complete loss as to what to do. She had been talking to, she may even have fancied, the man who killed 13 people including Peter Pettigrew with a single curse. Peter Pettigrew! Hadn't Black just said Pettigrew was one of his friends? Not only that but Black had attempted to break into Gryffindor tower just a few days ago to attack her best friend! Hermione paced back and forth, shaking, barely aware of her surroundings. Really, all she wanted was a safe, comfortable place to think and kip for a few hours.

Suddenly, she could hear footsteps coming down the corridor. She whipped her head around in a panic and opened the first door she saw, throwing herself inside. She listened with her breath held until the footsteps faded. As she turned to look at the room, her breath left her in a surprised gust.

She wasn't in an empty classroom as she had expected. Instead, she was in a large room that reminded her oddly of her bedroom with her parents. Bookshelves lined the walls and in the middle of the space was a massive bed covered in a red and gold bedspread. What was this place? She had never read about Hogwarts having any dormitories other than those attached to the four house common rooms. Was this a teacher's lodgings? Somehow, she didn't think so.

Hermione decided that she would take advantage of the gift that the castle itself seemed to be offering her. She pointed her wand at the door knob and whispered "Colloportus" and then kicked off her shoes and climbed into the bed, snuggling down. She squeezed her eyes shut and told herself harshly that the boy's identity didn't change a thing. She couldn't alter the past. She couldn't help who he would grow up to be or the fact that he would betray his friends. She let out a stifled sob thinking of how it would destroy Harry to know that someone in league with his father's murderer had been his father's friend while they were at Hogwarts. And how would James feel if he knew that his friend was now trying to kill his son? What did Professor Lupin think of his traitorous schoolmate? Her heart stopped when she considered if Lupin could be involved in Sirius's current plot to hurt Harry. Her mind responded with a resounding, unequivocal no. She had known Professor Lupin for only a few months but she felt strongly that he was a good sort.

She felt absolutely gutted about everything she had learned but knew she could do nothing. What if she tried to help and something even worse happened? What if Harry was never born? What if the world she returned to was nothing like the one she had left?

And how, how could she have felt so drawn to a person like Sirius?

All she could do, she told herself over and over again, was to find a way back to her own time. She closed her eyes even tighter, willing herself to sleep, to give her mind a few minutes rest. She had fallen asleep for a couple hours here and there but she was nowhere near close to being fully rested. Exhaustion and stress finally won, as she knew they would.

Hermione dreamt of Sirius. It was dark and they were standing in the grass by an unmoving Whomping Willow. The chill night air blew around them as he reached out to put his hand against her cheek. He was murmuring to her, begging her forgiveness, telling her that she didn't understand. Warmth spread over her as he took a step closer and she lifted her face so they were barely inches from one another…

Hermione jerked awake and sat up. She felt disgusted with herself. How could she still feel this way about him, knowing what kind of man he would grow up to be? She just couldn't reconcile the grinning, perfect boy with the pictures in the Daily Prophet of the criminal with sunken cheeks and dead eyes. And how, she demanded of herself, could she feel any way about him - she barely knew him.

Hermione forced her thoughts towards practical things and in doing so, realized she had left her bag and notes on the Disillusionment Charm on the table in the library. She wished there was a clock in the room and as soon as the thought entered her mind, there was one. An ornate silver desk clock sat on the bedside table reading 4 o'clock.

Hermione had an idea and carefully thought how much she would appreciate a bathroom with a large bathtub. She was rewarded with a door materializing next to one of the many bookshelves.

When Hermione left the bathroom, she felt clean and ready to continue with her research. She roughly pushed away any thought of the dream or the boy in it as she put on her shoes and took a final look around the miraculous room. She was unbelievably curious about what kind of spells would allow the room to cater to the wishes of the occupant and marveled that there was no mention of the bedroom in any text on Hogwarts that she had come across.

She peeked out of the door, wishing she had already mastered the Disillusionment Charm. The corridor was empty so she stepped out, closing the door noiselessly behind her. When she turned to look back, there was only blank wall.

"Aparecium," she whispered as she tapped the stone smartly with her wand. Nothing.

"Revelio," she said but again, the wall was unchanged.

"Specialis Revelio," she tried a third time as she slowly moved her wand over the area. This time a faint blue glow appeared, proving there was a charm on that section of wall. She nodded to herself.

She thought loudly that she would like the door to the bedroom to reappear and was flummoxed when it failed to do so. She tried again, picturing the room clearly and specifically in her mind, but to no avail.

Maybe the room was one-time use or only appeared at night or, more likely, she wasn't recreating the exact circumstances under which it had appeared. However, she had been so distraught last night that she could hardly remember what she had done. Hermione's heart sank when she accepted that she couldn't re-enter the room, but she promised herself she would discover its secrets once she had found a way out of her current plight. She had a more important task.

She set off towards the library, pre-dawn light entering through every window she passed. She had just reached the library corridor when she was forced to hide behind a statue, jamming herself as far into the shadows as she could. A red-headed girl was standing facing away from her, her nose in a book, obviously waiting for someone. Hermione remained as still as she could until a boy with oily black hair came up behind the girl, tapping her on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry I'm late, it really is painfully early," he grimaced at her.

"Sev, you're the one who asked me to help you with your essay!" she laughed at him, lightly punching him on the shoulder.

"I know, I know, and I'm in your debt!" he said, laughing as well.

"Can I ask you again why you're even taking Muggle Studies?" she said.

The boy flushed deeply, giving life to his pallid complexion, but didn't answer.

"Alright, well, let's go in. We have a lot of work to do," the girl said, shaking her head and steering him towards the library doors.

Thankfully, as the door swung, Hermione could see that the pair headed in the opposite direction from Hermione's table.