Hermione's eyes opened and met those of Salazar. "I'm still hallucinating. Bellatrix really messed me up."

"You are not hallucinating," he told her, frowning darkly. "What did I see?"

"Nothing, because none of you are real," she snapped, running her fingers through her hair. "Harry's going to walk in here with Madame Pomfrey, and they'll give me a potion, and all of you will go away."

"We are real, and you need to answer my question," he said, staring her down. "That school I saw, it looks like-,"

"The third-year Gryffindor dorms?" she rolled her eyes. "Yes, because Ginny and I were in my dorm when she came to me. I don't have time for this. We just finished-,"

"The war," he said before she could, startling her. "With… the Dark Lord."

"What are you talking about?" Helga asked, stepping closer. He just put up a hand to quiet her.

"You know who we are," he tried a different angle. "Is that right?"

Hermione looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor, and Helga Hufflepuff. Which is exactly how I know she definitely tortured me into insanity."

"Why?"

"Why?" she looked between the four friends. "Because you, all of you, you were… hundreds of…" she trailed off, her mind whirling. She looked down at her stomach to find it was already healed. She set aside the unfamiliar scars to think about later and looked at the friends. "You found… glass…"

"With a golden substance," Rowena confirmed. "You know what it is?"

"Oh," she breathed out sharply, feeling panic rise in her chest. "Oh, no. No, I can't- I can't be- I mean, you can't be-,"

"Hermione," Salazar said sharply, grabbing her hand within his own. The touch had her looking at him with wide, surprised eyes. "What is it?"

"I…" she took a moment to breathe before she tried to put her words together. "That… object, it was mine. Called a Time-Turner. You see, I wore it around my neck in case of emergencies. I have ever since Ron got hurt escaping Snatchers. If- if something broke it, I suppose it could've…"

"Yes?"

"Sent me back in time," she said, finally looking around at them. "Far back in time."

"You said you were hallucinating us," Helga remembered. "How far from the future are you?"

"No, you're just accepting that the lass is from the future?" Godric asked, shocked.

"I believe her," Salazar told them quietly. "The things I saw in her memories… I believe her."

"But there's more," Hermione reminded him. "More I don't know, isn't there?"

"Yes."

"So how far are you from?" Helga repeated her question.

Hermione winced. "Hundreds of years. I- I went to Hogwarts. I fought the Final Battle here. That… battle is the last thing I remember."

"The things I saw in your memories…" Salazar frowned down at her. "You were petrified. When? How?"

"Petrified?" Helga nearly shrieked in horror. "But you look fine!"

She shrugged. "Mature Mandrake root helps with petrification. It happened when I was thirteen in my second year."

"Second year," Rowena repeated. "My Gods. How on Earth did you get petrified?"

"A basilisk inside the school was being controlled by Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord. He actually…" she trailed off and looked at Salazar again. He frowned at her.

"Yes?"

"He claimed to be your heir. He said that was how he could control the basilisk."

Godric snorted. "Sal doesn't have kids, and he likely never will. As for the basilisk, we do have one under the school. Her name is Morgana. She listens to anyone, truly. We cannot… train her to only listen to one bloodline," he laughed.

Hermione frowned, her eyes shifting back to Salazar once more. "I'm a muggleborn."

He stared back at her. "Yes?"

"You teach muggleborns?"

"I teach any student with magic who wishes to learn," he told her firmly. "Why would I not?"

"And you… don't plan to abandon the school and your friends?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "No, I do not. Why do you ask?"

She grimaced and tilted her head back, feeling dizzy. "I wish I had my books."

"What sort of questions are those?" Rowena wondered. "It was Sal's idea to build the school, to teach young, muggleborn students our ways, and to protect everyone with Morgana. He'd rather die here than ever leave."

"I don't know," Hermione snapped. "All I know is what his House is like in the future. See this scar?" she asked, pointing at her shoulder. "Gregory Goyle, Slytherin. And that one on my arm? Bellatrix Lestrange, Slytherin. On my leg, Slytherin, my wrist, Slytherin. My hip, Antonin Dolohov, Slytherin. The House is dangerous, vile, and completely unsafe for muggleborn students. I learned the word 'mudblood' when a Slytherin student spat it at me in the courtyard."

"'Mudblood,'" Salazar repeated numbly. "What does it mean?"

She frowned. "It's a slur. I don't know when it was made, but it's used to describe muggleborns. It means we have mud in our veins. It means we stole our magic from others, stole our wands. During the war, muggleborns were sent to 'trial' for stealing magic. My fifth-year DADA professor - who gave me the scar on my left hand, by the way - sent muggleborns to prison simply for having and using magic. I watched the trials, I saw a woman weeping for her husband. In my time, I am not safe being who I am. Your House has become the House for dark wizards."

"Your future… sounds horrifying," Godric told her quietly. "What did Hogwarts do to help?"

"Well, the Headmaster that was there the entire six years that I was… he taught us to become child soldiers. The Headmaster after him, he let the Dark Lord take over the school. He did it to help us win the war but-,"

"You were only children," Salazar said for her. "A war is not yours to fight."

There was a long beat of silence before Helga sighed. "Why don't we go get some tea and talk calmly?"

"That… sounds nice," Hermione said quietly. "I haven't had a good, calm cup of tea in months."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"So, you know us, but who are you?" Rowena asked.

Hermione nodded. "Hermione Granger. I- as far as I know, I'm 18."

"But my spell said you're at least 19, probably older," Salazar told his friends. "There are more blocked memories, but my spell didn't touch them. Aside from-,"

"It didn't touch them," she interrupted. "I just don't know what they could be."

"If you keep working with Sal, you may be able to expose the rest of the memories," Godric told her. "Work on Occlumency. You may wiggle some things out over time."

Hermione looked at him like he was crazy. "Over time? I have to get home. Now."

"Oh, love, we don't know how to do that," Helga told her gently. "Unless you know how-,"

"I can't stay here," she said, panic settling in her chest. "I don't even know what's happening at home, there's no way I can stay here when my friends might be in danger."

"Hermione," Salazar said slowly, his voice low and dark. "You said yourself that the battle ended. You cannot potentially put yourself in danger by using magic you don't understand to enter a situation in which you may not even be needed. What will you do if it backfires? If it kills you?"

"What if Harry dies again?" she asked him sharply. "Look, I'm going back."

"How?" Rowena cut in, tilting her head. "How do you plan to go back?"

"I can. I have."

"You have? What do you mean, you have?"

Hermione stopped, frowning to herself. "I don't know. I'm… confused."

"Well, you did fall out of the sky and hit the ground pretty hard," Rowena reasoned. "You may have some sort of brain injury."

"Get some sleep," Godric suggested. "We can discuss this more in the morning."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"What do you think?"

Salazar looked at his friends with a frown. "I think there's years of memories locked up in her head. I think she's scared. I think we have to help her."

"The future sounds…"

"Something clearly goes very, very wrong," Helga agreed, rubbing her forehead to rid herself of the oncoming headache. "Especially for you, Sal."

"I mean, the lass looked afraid of you when she realized you were real," Godric agreed. "You'll have to work with her before more Occlumency. Prove you're not… what she thinks you are."

"She seems to trust you at the same time," Rowena pointed out. "Use that. Learn as much about her life, about the future, as you can."

"Why? What can we do about it?" Salazar questioned. "Her future is the future. We can't fix it."

"We- I need to know," she insisted. "Please."

Salazar pursed his lips, but he nodded shortly. "Fine."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

The next morning, Hermione was drinking tea in the small kitchen area of the rooms they'd placed her in when there was a knock on the door. She waved her hand at it and blinked in surprise as she wandlessly and silently opened the door.

"Hermione- are you alright?" Salazar asked, stopping short in the doorway.

"I just- I cast wandlessly and silently," she explained, blinking at her hand. "Like it was muscle memory, but I don't remember ever doing that before."

"That is… incredible," he breathed. "May I?"

"Oh, sure," she waved him on. He stepped over to her and cast a couple more spells. She ducked one, to both of their surprise. "Sorry, I- I think that spell is dangerous. What is it?"

"It scans your core output," he explained. "If you are not comfortable with it, I won't use it."

She shook herself. "Tea?"

"No, thank you," he said, sitting across from her as she sat with her legs crossed on the couch. "Hermione, I want to continue working with you with Occlumency. I believe we can break down that wall, that spell, slowly over time."

She looked at him quietly. "Look, I try not to judge people by the things said about them, it's just-,"

"You were quite literally scarred by my House," he understood. He looked at her and tried to convey the deep regret he felt. "And I am sorry for that. I don't know what happens to my House, or who distorted it so, but I will promise, it wasn't me."

Hermione sighed and sat back. "There's a book called Hogwarts: A History. It updates every year, and every ten years, it condenses to the most important events and changes of the decade. When I got to Hogwarts, it was my favorite book. It made me feel like I could possibly keep up with the half-bloods and purebloods. I also read ahead on all my textbooks, finishing most of them before I even got to Hogwarts."

"What does this book say about me?" he wondered. She grimaced and tilted her head.

"Well, it says you left the school and your friends because you didn't want to teach muggleborn students and they did," she admitted. "You have to understand, I've read the book cover to cover every year. I'm… so familiar with what little they had on you."

Salazar was more than aware that he needed to show her that he wasn't who she thought he was, but the thought of showing a strange girl that fell out of the sky how devastated he was over his legacy being so twisted made his skin crawl. Still, he looked away and closed his eyes, trying to push the frustration down. "You were a Gryffindor."

"Yes…?"

"Godric is like a brother to me," he told her slowly. "And one thing I know about him is that he judges people based on the actions he witnesses rather than rumors. Centuries old rumors, apparently."

"It's just… I fought a war, and the people I fought were majority Slytherins. I'm not saying that you would've been on their side, it's just hard to…"

He frowned at her. "Let me help you. Let me show you I am not who you think I am."

"Okay," she agreed slowly. "But if you do anything- just remember I fought a war and I know about ten different ways to end your existence in a split second."

His frown twisted into a small laugh. "I wouldn't dare forget it."

She smiled a little. "For what it's worth… I am sorry about your House."

"Thank you," he offered a smile back. "I do have a question."

"Okay."

"When I tried to bring up that name- Antonin Dolohov, you stopped me. Why?"

Her smile faded, and he got the sense he'd asked a very sensitive question. "He isn't just someone I don't remember yet. I already know him, S- er, what do I…?"

"Sal," he suggested. "If you're cross with me, Salazar. If we're in danger, Slytherin. That's the pattern my friends seem to go with."

"Sal," she said. "I know him, and… he's…"

"You said he gave you a scar," he nodded.

Hermione sighed and lifted her shirt and pushed down her jeans a little until the scar on her waist showed. "He gave me that in my sixth year. It nearly killed me. It drained my core until it was almost completely empty, and it took weeks for me to heal enough that Madame Pomfrey could wake me from the coma I was in."

"He did that-,"

"Here," she pointed at the side of her throat. "There is no scar, but he held me by my throat, grabbed my wrists and made me watch as Sirius Black, my best friend's godfather and a man that was family to me, was killed. I was sixteen, in my fifth year."

"My Gods," he whispered. Horror continued to fill him when she continued.

"He held me the same way in the forest of Dean where we were captured by snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor where he helped to torture me. His Crucio is truly the worst I've felt. It dug into my core, it felt like he was ripping apart something crucial inside of me. I've never felt anything like it, even from Bellatrix.

"Aside from those, he's attacked me in a diner, followed me, and fought me in the Final Battle. For some reason, he won't leave me alone, and he… he may be the only Death Eater that I am truly, completely terrified of."

Salazar considered her and her words for a moment before he spoke. "And he is an important part of your future. I can understand that fear, Hermione, but… you are hundreds of years away from him. He can't get near you."

Hermione looked up at him with a confused frown. "Yes. I keep considering that, but… I don't understand."

"Don't understand what?"

"I don't understand why that thought, remembering that he's so far away and can't get to me… it makes me unbearably sad."

Salazar's mouth opened, and he blinked. "Sad."

"He terrifies me. The very thought of him knowing where I am makes me want to run. But there's something else and I don't understand it."

"Unfortunately, I believe Occlumency may be the only way to uncover the rest of your memories, including… him," he told her. "If you are comfortable, I can continue to help you."

"I think that would be okay," she said after a moment.

"We can start whenever you are ready. If you'd like to get breakfast first-,"

"I don't think I could eat," she admitted. "I'm so stressed, I can't eat."

He nodded. "Then we shall start and hopefully, find something to help send you home."

"I'm ready," she said quietly. "I'm ready."

They got into position, and after gaining another confirmation of consent, he slipped into her mind.

"It's almost as if you have shields under this damage," he told her, looking around. "Have you done Occlumency?"

"I tried it a couple years ago, but didn't have much luck," she said. "Charlie told me I was in my head too much. I told him that was quite literally the goal."

Salazar chuckled. "You overthink everything, don't you?"

She glanced at him. "I've been told as much."

"Watch out-," he tried as they were quickly thrown into a memory flying out of the huge, dark wall in front of them.

It was quick, like a snippet of a memory, a picture that appears in your mind when you think of someone.

In front of them was a forest, and in it, a younger Dolohov held a younger Hermione against a tree, covering her mouth as he pinned her there. To their surprise, she looked angry, but wasn't fighting him.

The memory ended as quickly as it began and left them standing there together, frowning.

"He looked… young," she said quietly. "And so did I."

"Do you understand anything else about the memory?" he wondered. She thought about it for a moment.

"It felt… I don't know. Confusing. Not bad, not good. Neutral."

"Are you ready for more? I want to cast the spell again."

Hermione took a breath before nodding. "Go ahead."

"Aufero," he cast. The spell hit the wall again, and she watched as more memories flew out, one hitting them almost immediately.

There was a boy who looked to be a young Harry in front of a young Hermione, but he had deep brown eyes and a smirk that seemed permanent.

"You do look a lot like me," he said to her. She just raised a tense eyebrow.

"Magic."

"I'm James," he offered. Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, but the memory version of her just stared at him.

"I know."

"You're Alexia," he tried. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Apparently," she said in her memory.

"We're twins," he tried. She looked up at him again.

"So I've heard."

"What's happening?" Salazar wondered, noting how confused and tense Hermione was.

"I don't know," she hissed. "None of this makes sense!"

The fireplace lit up and Dumbledore stepped out. "Ah, hello, Mister Potter!" Dumbledore grinned. "I see you've met your new sister."

"Sister?" Hermione breathed. "He said… Alexia. It felt so familiar."

"There you are!" A woman that Hermione recognized as Dorea Potter said. Sirius had once shown Harry his family tree, and Hermione had been there as well, much too curious to stay away. "I wasn't sure when you'd be back."

"She's all fixed up now," Dumbledore grinned. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got some things to attend to if we want the new Miss Potter to be officially recognized in the community."

"Thank you, Albus," Dorea said. Once Dumbledore left, she turned back to Alexia. "It's wonderful to meet you. I'm Dorea, but you may want to just call me Mum."

Alexia sucked in a breath, clearly struggling with the thought. "I'm… Alexia."

They fell out of her mind, and she stared at him with wide eyes. "I… remember."

"How much?" he asked her. She frowned for a moment before she answered.

"Enough… months. I was Alexia," she told him. "I was Alexia Potter, Jamie's sister. I spent the summer with him, I started Hogwarts with him. James Potter…"

"And who is he?"

"James is… he's Harry's father," she explained. "I was in the past, Sal. I was twenty years in the past, and Dumbledore placed me with the Potters to be Alexia Potter. I… went to school with the Marauders."

"You said you have gone back to the future," Salazar reminded her. "You went to the past and then went back. You know how to go back."

She sucked in a sharp breath. "I can get home. I just… have to remember."

OoOoOoOoOoOo