It had been decided that a private room would be set up in Hogwarts for Hermione to stay in while it was figured out how to get her back to her own time. The room was small and modest, but Hermione didn't mind. It didn't even really matter, because she spent most of her days in the library, looking for information on time travel.

Yet, she found that she had become a social pariah. Everywhere she went there was a space of at least five feet between her and anyone else. All the students looked at her with scared faces but no one dared to talk to her. Professor Dunn refused to acknowledge that Hermione existed.

On the other hand the rest of the wizarding world was in awe of her and there were forever articles in the Daily Prophet about her. The were musings about what horcruxes were, who Merope was, how the girl was sent back in time, and the war that would have taken place in the future. Each day Hermione was pelted with letters that asked her these things, but she never answered them back. She just wanted to go home.

Dumbledore was still acting kindly towards her, and was being very helpful with the time-travel search. He was basically the only one that talked to her.

One day, a message from Dumbledore was delivered to Hermione by a very frightened-looking first year. When she thanked him, his eyes widened and he squeaked and ran away. Shaking her head, Hermione closed the door to her room and, trembling, opened the letter, the first and only one he had ever sent her. It must be important then.

The letter was very short: A solution to your problem may be soon in coming. Meet me in my office during dinner. -Albus Dumbledore

During dinner? Why was he being so secretive about this? Oh, what if he'd had a breakthrough and knew how to get her home!

For the rest of the day she couldn't stop pacing and fidgeting. She tried going to the library but couldn't concentrate on reading. When she heard the rumble of students' footsteps heading for the Great Hall, she stood by her door, her hand on the doorknob, waiting for the second that the rumbling stopped. As soon as it did, she flew out her room and ran all the way to the headmaster's office.

She wheezed out the password ("Licorice Wand!")and took a moment to catch her breath before walking up the stairs. She wanted to appear calm.

Dumbledore smiled when he saw her. He greeted her and told her to sit.

"Before we begin, I must tell you that no, I have not figured out a way for you to return to your time." Hermione's heart plummeted, but Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brighter.

"However, I have found someone who can."

He pointed behind her, and she turned to see a man who had been looking at Fawkes. She had missed him in her rush to get to Dumbledore.

"Meet my dear friend, Nicholas Flamel."

"Oh! Yes, you're the one who invented the Sorcerer's Stone!" blurted Hermione excitedly and without thinking. Flamel grinned.

"Clever one, she is. That'll be helpful."

Dumbledore stood. "I'll leave you two to your work. If you'll excuse me, there happens to be an excellent feast waiting for me down in the Great Hall. And that reminds me, you must eat as well." A couple of gold plates piled with food appeared on the desk, along with two goblets filled with pumpkin juice. Dumbledore disappeared down the stairs and Flamel sat in Dumbledore's chair.

"So...you are the infamous Miss Granger with whom the whole of the wizarding world is transfixed." It wasn't a question but Hermione nodded anyway. Flamel said, "And how do you know about the Stone? There are so very few who do."

"Well, sir, during my first year at Hogwarts the Stone was kept in a secret dungeon below Hogwarts. But a follower of Voldemort tried to steal it, and my friends and I, we had to stop that from happening. Harry was the only one who could have saved the Stone and Ron and I had to go with him and help him. The Stone was protected by all sorts of spells, you see. Anyway, the Stone was saved from the follower of Voldemort, but it was later destroyed... to keep it from being stolen...oh, I'm sorry! I really shouldn't have told you that last part..."

"It's quite alright, I always knew that I would stop using the Elixir of Life and die someday."

Hermione blushed, but Flamel continued.

"But seeing as you were able to get to the Stone when you were only eleven- that proves that you really are very bright. So, if we both really pour our efforts into this, we should find a way to get you home soon. Ready?"

"Yes."