Disclaimer: I own nothing and J.K. Rowling is a piece of shit.

Pairings: Hermione Granger/James Potter | Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Warnings: Violence | Death | Blood | Swearing | Explicit Content

Summary: A plot sends Hermione hurtling back to 1976 where she must adopt her new identity as the estranged daughter of Aberforth Dumbledore. While she copes with her new reality, she also must come to terms with the possibility that the future she once knew may never come to be.

Chapter One

Hermione Granger found herself swaying gently on the same swing her father used to push on her as a child. The park looked the same as it did all those years ago, though a few new flats had gone up on the surrounding streets. A mother was chasing her small son as he ran off with a toy car in his hands and his shoes untied. Hermione blinked another tear down her cheek.

She knew obliviating her parents was the best way to keep them safe. They would be alright in Australia. Wendell and Monika Wilkins would run a quaint little dentistry, perhaps retire early, and spend the rest of their days by the sea, never knowing anything about the daughter they once had. It was for the best.

Swiping her sleeve against her cheek once more, Hermione pulled her purple beaded bag from her side into her lap and proceeded to take inventory of everything she had and everything she would need to collect once she arrived at the Burrow later that afternoon. She wasn't sure when she, Harry, and Ron would need to make their departure, so she figured having everything ready at a moment's notice would be the best course of action.

Her bag had been her mother's from when she was Hermione's age. She had wanted something to remember her by before she sent them on their way. Hermione thought about having them leave their house for her, but she knew they would need the money to start their practice in Australia. She had taken the purse from her mother, an old flannel jacket from her father, and a photo of the three of them from her fifth birthday that she tucked neatly into the pages of her favorite book, Hogwarts: A History.

She had enough non-perishables to last them a few weeks, blood replenishers, dittany, and several other healing potions, as well as a slew of books, including the ones on horcruxes she had taken from Dumbledore's office. Hermione had packed several changes of clothes for herself and planned to snag some of the boy's clothes as soon as she got to the Weasley's house. She had emptied her Gringotts vault as well as cashed out the muggle trust her parents had been saving for her. Hermione noted that she needed to get the tent from Arthur's shed that they had used at the World Cup as well.

Hermione was running over her mental list again when she heard a rustle in the bushes behind her. Pausing and discretely slipping her wand out from her sleeve, she turned on the swing to look over her shoulder. Hermione's heart started pounding rapidly in her chest.

There, behind her, was none other than the murderer of Albus Dumbledore. The man she had told Harry to trust, time and time again, only to be proven wrong. She pointed her wand directly at his face.

"What do you want, Snape?" She hissed, taking pleasure in dropping the formalities for the first time in her life.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Miss Granger." He appeased, raising his hands, though his wand was still grasped tightly in his right fist.

"And why should I believe you?" She could feel sweat pooling along her hairline. Fear was coursing through her veins. She knew she was no match against her former professor in a duel. He could best her with one hand behind his back.

"Dumbledore was already dying," he said, his tone lacking the condescending drawl she was used to hearing with him, he sounded more desperate. "He made me promise to kill him, to spare the Malfoy boy. Potter told you about the horcruxes, yes? One cursed him. I prolonged his life, but he had weeks left at most. His excursion with Potter that night didn't help matters."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked, running through a million questions in her brain. Snape's answer made sense, but she didn't know if she could trust him. She knew Dumbledore trusted him, but Dumbledore was dead. His hand had been decaying, and Harry had said the potion in the cave weakened him immensely. The story made sense. But how had Snape found her? And what did he want with her now? "How do I know that you actually are Severus Snape?" She pondered a security question. Something Snape wouldn't be privy to share, "What is Neville Longbottom's boggart?"

Hermione smiled in satisfaction as Snape looked murderous. His large nostrils flared as he scoffed. "You insolent girl. I am trying to help end this war! Dumbledore gave me a mission before he died."

"And I am trying to ensure my safety." Hermione said, lifting her wand slightly aiming directly between Snape's eyes. Thankfully the park wasn't too crowded and the swings were tucked behind a large oak tree, but she needed this conversation to wrap up quickly before she had to obliviate more people.

"He saw me," he hissed, "In his grandmother's clothes."

"See," Hermione smiled, "Now that wasn't so hard, was it. Now, what is this mission Dumbledore gave you?"

"I was told to find you…" Snape assessed her for a moment, before aiming his wand at her. Hermione's heart started hammering. She grasper her wand tighter in her hands. "And send you back."

"Send me back? Where?!" She cried, "What are you doing?!"

"This shouldn't hurt, Miss Granger," Snape smiled, before casting a spell of blinding purple and white light entwined together directly at her. She tried to cast a shield but it broke through with ease.

Hermione felt the impact of the spell hit her sternum and the coinciding pull of her navel, a blending twist of a portkey spin and an apparition warp. She felt the nausea churn as the world around her spun, lights and people and voices raced by her. Her head pounded as her reality shifted around her. Hermione lost her sense of time; she didn't know if she had been stuck in this rapidly changing limbo for seconds or days before she felt the halting stop of the spin and the resounding backfire of her lunch making contact with the pavement of the park in which she stood.

Looking around and gaining her bearings, Hermione felt panic course through her, for it was early afternoon when she had come face to face with Snape, and it was now the middle of the night. She looked around, squinting through the darkness, noticing that the new flats she had pointed out were no longer there. Her breaths started coming more erratically as Hermione raced to the newspaper dispenser on the corner. She fished a few coins out of her purse to purchase one and raced to the light of the lamp post and read the date printed on the page.

SUNDAY, 1 AUGUST 1976

Hermione felt herself shaking. She dropped the paper and started running. She ran towards her parent's house, hoping this was all some sort of sick joke Snape was playing on her and they would still be there, packing their things and getting ready to leave. She turned the corner and came to a halt. "No," she whispered.

She didn't see her house.

She saw a development site.

Her childhood home wasn't finished until the spring of 1977.

It hadn't been built yet.

It didn't exist.

She didn't exist.

Hermione didn't know what to do besides check the last possible thing she could to ensure that this was not some elaborate prank and she was actually stuck in 1976. Hermione looked around to make sure there were no muggles watching, but it was dark and the coast was clear and she decided to risk better judgement and make the jump from London to Hogsmeade in one fell swoop.

Hermione thought of the three D's, destination, deliberation, and determination, and she spun on her heels, picturing the apparition spot by the Hog's Head pub that people used to stay out of the main foot traffic area of the village, but when she felt the pull at her navel again, something wasn't right. Hermione felt a searing pain along with the familiar sensation of apparition ripping across her abdomen.

She could still feel all of her limbs so she knew she hadn't left anything behind, but in her panicked state, she must've splinched herself something bad. Collapsing on the dusty apparition spot, Hermione was blinded by searing white hot pain in her stomach. Trying not to cry out, she reached down and with shaky hands felt a gash across her abdomen. Her hands came back sticky and red with blood.

Trying to calm her breathing, she gingerly reached up for a barrel, wincing as she braced her weight on it, lifting herself up. She attempted to reach for her beaded bag, trying to retrieve the dittany from it, but her blood-soaked hands were too slippery to unclasp the metal bauble holding it closed.

"Shite!" She cried, holding one hand to her stomach, keeping pressure on the wound, and the other bracing against the building as she hobbled towards the door of the old pub. She had no idea the time and hoped to Merlin it was still open. There looked to be a light on from the windows. "Hello!" She cried, as she neared the door, "can someone help me?"

She stumbled upon the threshold but panicked when she found the door to be locked. Frantically, she pounded with her free hand against it, hoping the barkeep would hear her.

"Please! I need help" She cried, coughing, and trying to stay awake as black spots started clouding her vision. "Help me… please."

Darkness started to overcome her as Hermione gave into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw before reality left her, was a pair of worried blue eyes staring into her own.

A familiar scent of medicinal potions, pressed linens, and herbs warmed Hermione's nose as she started to come to. She knew the smell of the Hogwarts hospital wing anywhere. From how often Harry had spent in it, as well has her few stints there in second year, it had become a regularity during her time at school.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked groggily, seeing blearily the matron bustling about, checking her over with several diagnostics.

"Hello there, dear." The matron said, giving her a confused look. "You gave us quite a scare Sunday night when Aberforth brough you in. Splinched yourself quite badly, you did. He thought you had been drinking, though there was no alcohol in your system. You had a 10-inch gash across your abdomen and severed your intestine. You'll have to stay here for at least another couple of days so I can be sure there is no infection."

"How long have I been out?" Hermione asked.

"Two days now." Pomfrey said, wrapping up her diagnostic. "I'll alert the headmaster you're awake. He wished to speak with you. You look to be healing quite nicely."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, closing her eyes. Two whole days. She had been out two days. She couldn't believe how reckless she had been, apparating all of the way from London to Hogsmeade in her mental state. She knew the dangers of long-distance apparition, especially as a novice like herself. She apparated over 600 miles! She should've added a jump in the middle to break up the trip. She knew better! Hermione berated herself mentally but paused momentarily. Madam Pomfrey had said the headmaster had wanted to talk to her!

Dumbledore was alive! That meant she really was in 1976. Hermione could feel her heart racing again and tried to calm her breathing by herself. She didn't need to worry Madam Pomfrey. She mentally slapped herself and realized that the reason Madam Pomfrey had looked so confused when Hermione had known who she was, was that the matron had never met her before.

Hermione tried to work on what she had picked up from the occlumency books she had read when trying to assist Harry during his lessons with Snape in order to calm herself. Ugh! She mentally scowled at the thought of Snape. Sighing, she worked on the process of clearing her mind. She entered her mental library she had built, filing away her thoughts into alphabetized rows. She winced as she tucked away the memory of her parents but as she did, she felt a wash of calm settle over her. Hermione continued filing each thought, losing track of time. She often used this as a method of meditation for when she got overwhelmed. Hermione had yet to face a legilimens, so she had no idea if she had any occlumency shields to speak of, but her mind always felt far calmer after the process.

A soft throat clear woke her from her reverie.

Hermione gasped as she looked into the eyes of a very much alive Albus Dumbledore. "Professor!" She said, "I—I can explain! Well, I can't. Well, I sort of can. I don't really know what is happening."

"Dear child," he said, blue eyes staring into hers. She felt a small push into her mind. Hermione wondered if this was the legilimency she had just been wondering about. "Perhaps we should start with the basics. It seems you know me, but I haven't the faintest who you are. What is your name?"

"Hermione Granger, sir. I'm a muggleborn, sir. I'm…" She looked around the room. Madam Pomfrey had retreated to her office. It was August, according to the newspaper she had read in London. There would be no students who could be eavesdropping. She knew the laws of time, but according to Snape, she was here on Dumbledore's orders. Could she tell him everything? Could she tell him she was from the future? "I was born in 1979. I came from the year 1997."

Dumbledore's eyes widened for a moment before he seemed to accept this information. He nodded knowingly. "And how did you come to be in this time?"

"Severus Snape." Hermione hissed, "He ambushed me. He claimed that you told him to do it, but sir… I don't know how much I should tell you. I've played with time before. I had access to a time turner in my third year to take extra courses. I know the laws. I know you're not supposed to be seen. You're not supposed to change anything! I have to get back to my own time!"

Dumbledore seemed to ponder this information for a moment. She could feel his presence in her mind again. It felt like a faint pressure, almost like the beginning of a headache that hadn't quite formed yet. She didn't know if he knew she was aware of him there yet. She also didn't know if he was finding anything worthwhile, or if her library was protecting her thoughts at all. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to protect the information or if it would just be easier to give him a free for all instead.

"That is the general rule of thumb with time turners, yes. But there are other kinds of time travel, Miss Granger. How did Mr. Snape send you here? That may help us determine the nature of your stay."

"It was a spell. I didn't hear an incantation, but it was a bright purple and white light. The lights, they sort of twisted together. It hit my chest and it felt like I was apparating but also being pulled by a portkey. I could see the world going backwards around me at lightspeed. It made me sick to my stomach. When it stopped, I was right where I was when he casted it, just twenty-one years in the past." Hermione went on to tell the headmaster the entire story of how she ran to her parent's house and ended up at the Hog's Head splinched.

Dumbledore looked frantic for a moment, before his calm mask slipped back into place.

"The spell you speak of, Miss Granger, is one of my own creation. The very one I used to stop Grindelwald, though the ramifications were far graver than I had imagined." Dumbledore announced, "Mr. Snape having cast it on my orders sounds truthful to me, as I would never impart that particular incantation to another without good reason, though I cannot work out for the life of me, why? Why would I have sent you back here Miss Granger? There is unrest in the wizarding world and you are a muggleborn. It is unsafe for you here. What would possess me to send you here? Might you have any ideas?"

"To stop Voldemort." Hermione said simply. The reality of her situation clicking into place. Dumbledore sent her here before the prophecy took place to stop Voldemort and to destroy the horcruxes. "I'm your backup plan."

"Voldemort is still alive? In 1997?" Dumbledore asked frantically.

"And there's more," Hermione nodded, wondering how to break the news. "Sir, you died."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, soaking in the information. Hermione was unable to read his expression. He pondered his next move. "I still don't quite understand why my backup plan would be a schoolgirl. No offence, Miss Granger, but if Voldemort has been reigning terror for over twenty years, how are you going to be the one to take him down."

Hermione laughed, wincing a bit at the pain of her still healing abdomen. She was starting to understand Dumbledore's plan. The Dumbledore who sent her back to the 70's/ The one who gave Snape the orders to curse her, "Because, I know his weakness. I know how to kill him." She smiled at the headmaster, "Sir, have you ever heard of a horcrux?"

Madam Pomfrey kept Hermione on bedrest for another two days before she cleared her to leave the hospital wing. She was to continue to take a slew of potions for the next week, but beyond that, she would be fine. Just another scar to add to her repertoire. She thought the angry red line looked quite fetching against the harsh purple gash courtesy of Dolohov in fifth year. Scoffing, Hermione got dressed in a plain t shirt and some shorts she had packed in her beaded bag that she thought would still be era appropriate and made her way to the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore had said he would be making arrangements for her and her continued stay in the 70's. It took Hermione a bit of coping to get used to the idea that she was stuck in this new reality. Dumbledore claimed that the spell he created was irreversible and that there was no way back. She tried to not resent him for it, as this version of him was not the one who had cursed her here, it was the version from the 90's who had gotten too tied up in playing puppet master with children's lives. Hermione was aware of that.

She needed to be vigilant in her connection with him. She would be working closely with Dumbledore and she needed to hold her own against him. She couldn't let him get lost in his secrets like he did with Harry.

She spent the past two days in her mental library sorting through everything she knew. All of her feelings, all of her knowledge. She organized what was useful, what wasn't, and what could be. She saved what broke her for when Madam Pomfrey went to sleep. She would cry for her parents, for Harry and Ron, and for Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys. She cried for all of her friends and the life she'll never see again. But something in her stood strong, knowing that she would be creating a better reality for them. One without Voldemort.

Dumbledore explained the spell to her more the day before. It rewrites the past entirely. He told her that everything that once was, will never be. As soon as she arrived, the course of history had completely been altered. Some things may stay the same, but others may go in totally different directions and she could not let herself feel blame for them.

Hermione delved deeper and told him the story of Harry and their adventures and how Voldemort was out to get him. Dumbledore broke the news to her that there was a possibility that her friends may never even be born now. Hermione tried to hold herself together while she was with the headmaster but was unable to keep from crying. Her existence in the 70's could change the entire course of history. She wanted to create a world for her friends to live Voldemort free, not a world where they didn't exist at all.

Professor Dumbledore told her the story of how he had used the spell. How it was initially intended to be used. He invented in when Grindelwald was gaining too much power. He was worried that there would be no way to stop him. Dumbledore worked tirelessly on the spell and when he casted it on himself he was amazed to see he was able to go back to his younger self, but when he tried to duel Grindelwald and his brother Aberforth came to join the fight, his sister Ariana got in the middle of it.

Hermione had never seen such emotion coming from Dumbledore when he said that he didn't know which wand the spell had come from that had killed Ariana, but he knew it was his fault because he was the one who had gone back in time to stop Grindelwald. That is why he knew that Snape must've been genuine in sending Hermione back and that he could trust her, because he would have never imparted the knowledge of the spell on someone unless it was truly dire.

Hermione found herself outside of the headmaster's office and murmured the password before the great statue lifted her to the door of the headmaster's office. She knocked gently before hearing him call for her to enter.

Hermione was surprised to see not only the headmaster, but another man who looked remarkably similar and surprisingly familiar to him in his office as she entered. Contrary to the headmaster who wore silky purple robes, this new man had basic trousers and a plain shirt on. He had remarkably similar hair to the headmaster though, matching long white beards, though the new man's bright blue eyes were unobscured by glasses.

"Hermione, please come in." Dumbledore said, gesturing for her to sit at one of the plush chairs opposite his desk. "I don't know if you have been formally acquainted with my brother yet, but this is Aberforth."

"Pleased to meet you, sir." Hermione said, reaching to shake his hand before taking her seat. The man was far more gruff than his brother. Had the family resemblance not been so strong, she would have never had known them to be siblings.

"Aye, no need to call me sir, girl."

"Down to business," Dumbledore said, "Hermione, since you'll be staying here indefinitely, I've filled Ab in on the basics of your situation. Since it is essentially my fault that you're here, I've decided to take it upon myself to welcome you into my family and provide for you as one of my own.

"As it would be far too suspicious to claim you as my own child, you will be posing as Ab's estranged daughter. I'll work out the paperwork, but you'll officially be known as Hermione Dumbledore. We've worked out the details of your cover story. Your mother recently passed away from Dragon Pox but was a brilliant half-blood witch. She was potioneer, always traveling and looking for new ingredients and she took you with her, so you were home tutored. You only saw your father a few times growing up, and never met me. You're looking forward to getting to know us both, and you'll be taking weekly tea with your dear uncle Albus, which will actually be posing as training sessions between the two of us." He said with a wink.

Hermione sat wide eyed in her chair. Professor Dumbledore wanted to take her in as his family. And she was to pose as his niece. He wanted to personally train her to fight Voldemort as well. Hermione felt overwhelmed but nodded in agreement.

"I can handle that. Is there anything else I should know? More to the back story?"

"Just keep things simple, but believable. And stay consistent. Will you be starting your sixth or your seventh year?"

"I'm supposed to be starting my seventh, but I think I should redo my sixth. I think there is a reason Snape sent me to this year. Harry's parents are going to be in their sixth year. I feel like it is better to be safe than sorry."

"Are you sure you'd like to sit through the same curriculum?"

"I've thought it through," Hermione nodded, "It'll give me time to focus on more pressing things and less on studying."

"Very well." Dumbledore nodded.

"Here now, Albus," Aberforth interrupted, "If the girl is to be my daughter, I want her to be focusing on her studies, not out risking her life."

Hermione looked surprised. Aberforth had yet to speak much since she had entered the office. In fact, he made her a bit nervous. She couldn't tell if he disliked her, his brother, or perhaps just the situation. Though either way, he seemed displeased.

"Aberforth," Dumbledore appeased, "Hermione came here for a reason."

"She didn't seem to have a choice in the matter. You sent her here without her consent. She is just a child, and you're going to make sure you treat her as such. She is not a pawn in your chess game and you'll do well to remember that."

Hermione watched the exchanged with wide eyes, "I'm seventeen," she chimed in.

"A child," Aberforth cemented and turned to the headmaster, "And one that is now under my care for the next two years at least. You had to have known what you were getting into by bringing me into this. I will not let you make a soldier out of her. She will be a student first and help you second. She already lost her all of her friends and family. You will not take this from her as well. Understand, brother?"

Professor Dumbledore raised both hands in surrender. "You are correct, Aberforth. Hermione, I am sorry. I got ahead of myself and for that I apologize. I shall do my best to ensure you will have as normal of a life as possible here, dear girl. Please forgive me."

Hermione nodded, "Of course, Professor."

"Please, start calling me Uncle Albus. We're to be family after all. We wouldn't want to raise any suspicion. Now, why don't the two of you use my floo to head back down to the village and get settled. You're welcome to meals in the castle at any time, Hermione. Aberforth, you as well. Hermione, if you could owl me your exam scores and the NEWT courses you'd like to take within the next week, I'll be sure to get everything squared away, dear child. Oh! And before I forget, what house we're you in?"

"Gryffindor." She said with a smile.

"Like a true Dumbledore."

"It's not much, but I tried to spruce it up for you." Aberforth said, opening the door to what was to be her room. "Mattress and bedding are both new. There's money on the dresser for you, I figured once you get settled you could go shopping in the village or maybe Diagon for some new clothes, maybe something to make your room a bit more personal. I can take you to get your stuff for school once Minnie sends out your lists."

Hermione wasn't sure if she was more shocked at how nice of a room was in the Hog's Head, or by Aberforth calling Professor McGonagall "Minnie."

She looked around at her new room and was pleasantly surprised. The old wooden walls were freshly painted a warm white, and a comfy looking four poster was nestled in the middle of the room with a plush blue duvet made up nicely on it. A large fireplace was across from the bed and a soft cream rug took up the majority of the floor. A lovely antique dresser was on the far wall with a beautiful mirror hanging above it, and the opposite wall had a large window that overlooked the village street below.

"This is perfect, Mr. Dumbledore. Thank you so much." Hermione said, "And I have some money of my own, really, it's no trouble."

"Nonsense." Aberforth said, "If you're to be my daughter, I'll be taking care of you. And call me Ab. Pub opens in fifteen, so I best be getting situated. Bathroom is down the hall. This wing is private from the rentable rooms, warded off from patrons, so you don't have to worry about anyone unsavory coming back here. You can also get up here from the back door if you don't want to go through the pub. There's a kitchen and a living room just past the bathroom, but if you're hungry you can come down to the pub and I can make you something to eat."

Ab paused and looked her over, "I talked to Poppy too, she said you had a mighty nasty splinch. You should rest up. Be sure to take your potions too, aye?"

Hermione nodded and smiled, "Thank you for everything, Ab. I appreciate it."

He nodded before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Hermione retrieved the clothes she had tucked in the purple bag still clutched at her side, along with some of the less dark books and began her journey of unpacking. She didn't have many belongings, but she was thankful the clothes she had brought with her were all basics that wouldn't look out of place in the 70's. She was also aware that most witches and wizards were not up to date on muggle fashion trends, so she could wear a Spice Girls top, and no one would be any the wiser. She laughed at the thought and assessed the small money pouch Ab had left on the dresser. She was surprised to see a pile of galleons within the bag and had a feeling she would be making a stop at Gringotts to deposit her own money and open an account when she and Aberforth went to retrieve her school supplies.

Hermione felt fatigue start to overcome her as she finished settling into her new space. While her wound was mostly healed, she was still a bit raw and her body was fighting off infection with potions. That, coupled with the trauma of the last few days, she was dead on her feet. Hermione looked longingly at the plush bed and decided a long nap was in order. She all but collapsed into the bed and fell asleep within moments of her head hitting the pillow.

Several hours later, rested and a little groggy, Hermione made her way down to the pub to join Aberforth for dinner. The sky was turning a hazy orange, and she had guessed that she slept away most of the afternoon. He nodded when she entered and gestured for her to take a seat at the bar, retrieving a chilled butter beer from the ice box behind him.

"Finally wake up, did ya?" He asked, "I went to check on ya a couple o' hours ago and you we're out like a light."

Hermione nodded, gratefully taking a long drink of the butterbeer, allowing it to quench her parched throat. "I think I needed the sleep. I'm feeling much better, though I'm a bit hungry. Is there food in the kitchen I could make?" She asked, trying her hardest not to inconvenience him.

"Nonsense," He waved her off, shuffling towards the door behind the bar, "I'll cook something up. You wait here."

Smiling, Hermione watched his retreating form. For someone she was so unsure of in the beginning, Ab had seemed to immediately take to the idea of caring for her. She had left her things upstairs, so she looked around for anything she could do to help him out. The pub was mostly empty, a lone man nursing a fire whiskey at the other end of the bar being the only other patron.

While the pub wasn't nearly as disheveled as it had been in her time, there was still an air of disrepair that she felt she could assist with. Hermione noticed a broken windowpane and went to repair it, watching in satisfaction as the pieces mended themselves back together. She went table to table, casting a few stronger cleaning and polishing charms on the old wood, watching as they gained a bit more shine with each charm. She wanted nothing more than to go to town the muggle way and actually scrub each table and chair, ensuring they were genuinely clean.

There was something about doing it with magic that made her wonder if something was truly clean, or if it was perhaps just a glamor that made you think it was clean.

She started casting the same spells upon the rickety old floor, watching as the boards groaned and creaked under the weight of her magic. The patron at the bar rolled his eyes at her, fished a coin out of his pocket, downed the rest of his drink and left the pub. This made her smile as it opened the door for her to start working on the bar. She abandoned the floors halfway in order to start working on the bar top, just in case another patron was to come in.

That was how Ab found her, casting spell after spell on the bar, working particularly hard on one spot that would not come up for the life of her. He set a plate of fish and chips in front of her and cleared his throat.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes, stopping her frantic cleaning spree. She hadn't thought that perhaps Aberforth preferred the pub the way it was and didn't want her to clean it. She felt panic start to settle in her stomach as she looked up at the man who had welcomed her into his home and place of business and she had disrespected that.

"I'm sorry!" She blurted, "I wasn't thinking. I should've asked first. I just saw the broken window and I wanted to help so I fixed it, but then I kept going and I thought it would be nice of me to help clean since you took me in but I didn't stop and think that maybe you didn't want me to clean. I'm sorry!"

Aberforth smiled, "Calm yourself, girl. It's fine. This place hasn't looked this good in years. I'm just one man. It gets hard to run a pub and keep up with cleaning too. Now eat your dinner. I promise, the kitchen is the one place I do manage to keep clean." He winked at her, reminding her of his brother.

"I can help," Hermione suggested, "Clean up around here, that is. Before I go back to school, I don't think I'll have much to do during the day, so I can help you clean up around here."

"That'd be nice," Ab said, nodding, "But I want you out of here before dark on the weekends. We get some unsavory characters in this pub. It's no place for a teenage girl, you hear?"

Hermione nodded, knowing the reputation of the pub. She smiled, grateful that she'd have some way to pay back Ab for his hospitality before returning to school. Digging into her fish and chips, she was pleasantly surprised how tasty it was. She hadn't consumed much muggle food in the wizarding world, but Ab made it just like the chip shop by her parent's house.

"It's a Friday now, this place'll start filling up in about an hour or two, so why don't you head upstairs, alright?" Ab said as she finished up her food.

Hermione abided by her new father's rules and made her way back up to her bedroom. She pulled a journal out from her purple bag and under the lamplight, she decided to start marking down important information for the headmaster.

KNOWN DEATH EATERS:

Bellatrix Lestrange

Lucius Malfoy

Antonin Dolohov

Rookwood

Avery

Barty Crouch Jr.

Yaxley

Crabbe

Goyle

Greyback

Igor Karkaroff

Jugson

Mulciber

Nott

Rabastian Lestrange

Rodolphus Lestrange

Rosier

Macnair
Hermione tried to think if there were any others she could remember. She thought back to the arrest records from the department of mysteries as well as the names that were being yelled on the night Dumbledore was killed. She tried to think of people she knew would turn into Death Eaters too.

Peter Pettigrew

She came to the realization that she would have to face Peter. Look him in the eyes and pretend she didn't know that he was considering abandoning his friends to become a traitor and work for Voldemort. She wasn't sure when the switch started, perhaps she could prevent him from turning, but she also knew she wouldn't be able to trust Peter as far as she could throw him.

Hermione made a note about Snape and R.A.B. and how they were potential turncoats. She didn't know who R.A.B. was yet, but maybe now that she was in the era, she would meet them, and could figure out what they did with the missing horcrux.

She jotted down another list of the known horcruxes, the diary, the ring, and the locket. She wrote that the diary was potentially in possession of the Malfoys, the ring was somewhere from Voldemort's past, and that it was dangerously cursed, and that the locket was in a cave. That was all she knew. That was all Harry had been able to tell her before Snape had sent her on her merry way to the past.

She couldn't wait until she saw his smug face again. She knew there was animosity between Snape and the Gryffindors in this era, and not having to respect him anymore would bring her great pleasure since his little stunt in the park. He would have no idea why she hated him, but Hermione's vindictive streak had just been growing and growing the further into this war she got. Perhaps she could see what it felt like to punch another Slytherin.

She cast several protective enchantments on her journal, making it so only she could read it, and anyone she deemed worthy to show it to, before tucking it away in her bag. Her beaded purple bag had become somewhat of a safety net to her. It was a lifeline to her past, or perhaps her future. It reminded her of her mother, and it was ready to take on the run at a moment's notice. While she unpacked for the most part, she kept at least a week's worth of essentials in the bag at all times, keeping it close by her.

Feeling fatigue wash over her once more, Hermione called it a night and allowed sleep to overcome her.