A/N: The majority of this chapter is still a flashback to the period of Hermione's seventh year before Dumbledore's death. I hope that it is not too confusing, and I will be careful to indicate which parts are flashbacks and which are the present. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; they are all the property of Scholastic and JK Rowling.

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The Muse of Fates: An Altered Past

Chapter Two

(Still flashbacks of the first half of seventh year)

The friendly visit to the Headmaster's office did not become an isolated incident. Hermione had felt increasingly separated from Harry and Ron, although the boys, being male, did not seem to realize that anything was amiss. It was not through any fault of their own, Hermione admitted to herself. While she felt the weight of the times burdening her, Ron on the other had was just as carefree and Quidditch-obsessed as ever, and Harry, attempting to forget the same weight that Hermione sagged under, increasingly attempted to "be one of the boys," dismissing the intermittent burnings of his scar and horrific nightmares in the blink of an eye.

Hermione, however, was not so lucky as Harry. Whereas he had Quidditch and a large group of rowdy boys to distract him, she had scheduled for herself and overfull course load, feeling the need to be as prepared and capable as she could, for what purpose she had yet to discover. Therefore, her normal day consisted of hours in the library with breaks in between for courses, meals, Head Girl rounds, and finally, a trip to her dormitory for some much- needed sleep. Alone for much of the day, Hermione had a lot of time, really too much time, to think, about the events whirling around her in the world outside of Hogwarts, and to oftentimes give in to despair at her isolation and feeling of unfulfillment.

Thus did Hermione often find her path leading her directly to that ridiculous stone gargoyle on the second floor. Whenever she felt as if the loneliness was welling up and dropping leaden stones inside her soul, she would mutter whatever sweet the password was that week, and slip into her haven. Always, she would come out with a barely noticeable renewed spark in her demeanor, a flash in her eye. The conversations Hermione had with the wise Headmaster always reinvigorated the workings of her keen mind, and truly, she learned just as much about magic theory and human nature in the sessions with Dumbledore as she learned about practical magic in her regular course load.

Hermione could still remember, verbatim, the last conversation she had had with her mentor, the last time she had looked upon his twinkling, though age-worn countenance. Even at the end of their last exchange, Hermione had not known the tragedy of what was to happen that very night. The Headmaster had given her the most affecting and thought-provoking speech ever that evening.

"I believe in you, Hermione. And remember: when darkness seems to keep dropping its heavy stones inside of you, never despair. I know that there is a fierce light inside of your soul, that is waiting to blind the world with its brilliance and pureness, and one day, the fates willing, you yourself will recognize it for what it is."

The Head Girl had been startled, never having heard Dumbledore give such a speech before. She had looked at the expression on the beloved Headmaster's face, and it seemed to be radiating power and hope. Slowly, a responding hope was kindled in her own heart. For the first time in a long while, Hermione Granger felt that the weighted absence inside of her could be, would be fulfilled. With hope came determination and renewed energy, and most of all, an overwhelming gratitude towards that man who had become a grandfather figure to her. Hermione did not know what to say, but the omniscient Professor seemed to understand.

"Now, Miss Granger, I believe you have two insatiable men waiting for you to arrive in the Gryffindor common room. I shall bid you a good night. After all, an old man needs his beauty sleep." The Headmaster twinkled down at Hermione. "Run along now, I'm sure that you want some to think."

Hermione had finally recovered from her speechlessness. "Thank you, Professor, for everything. I know that this moment, and especially you, will hold a special place in my heart. Good night, and thank you again."

Dumbledore's countenance softened, and Hermione saw that she had deeply touched him. "Hermione, I am sure that you read St. Exupery's wonderful children's book The Little Prince when you were younger. I think there is one lesson in that delightful histoire that especially applies in these dubious and oftentimes dark times: Above all, always follow your heart, Hermione, for that which is invisible is often the most essential. Goodnight, Hermione, until we meet again."

With that, the door to the Headmaster's office shut firmly in Hermione's face, leaving her looking once again at that comical stone gargoyle set in the doorway.

~End Flashback~

Hermione shivered in her thin robes, remembering that in her absentmindedness, she had left her cloak hanging on her coat rack in her bedroom. Bleakly reverting her gaze from her clothing to the layer of mist that lay over the lake in late winter, she heaved a sigh, futilely swiping her cheek with the back of her hand, attempting to clear her face of long- dried tracks of salt. Hermione thought mirthlessly that if she gathered all the salt that had leaked from her eyes within the past months, it would be enough to form a good-sized chunk of halite. Glancing over at the scene in front of the school, Hermione saw that the last straggle of students were heading inside the large oaken doors, most probably headed to the Great Hall and dinner. Most of the guests had apparently already left.

Sighing, Hermione shifted and prepared to head inside also, remembering that the Head Girl would surely be missed if she did not attend lunch. Just at that moment, Hermione heard the sound of swishing robes piercing the early spring air. Snapping her head around, the girl was faced with the rather unwelcome sight of Professor Snape, standing rigid in and stern in all of his dark, brooding glory.

"Miss Granger, I believe that the service is over, as it appears that all of your classmates have gathered back inside the castle. I should not have to remind you that many would be most.concerned.if Hogwarts' Head Girl was not at the noontime meal?"

Snape sneered, clearly insinuating that he himself would not take it amiss if the Great Hall was not graced with her presence at dinner.

Indignant, Hermione's frayed nerves made her give the professor a rather sharper retort than she had intended.

"Professor Snape, I was well aware that dinner was about to commence. In fact, I was just about to head inside before you deterred me. If you would please excuse me, sir, I believe that I have an obligation to fulfill."

With flashing eyes, Hermione, every inch the aloof Hogwarts' Head Girl, purposely gave an impressive Snape-like swish of her robes as she brushed rudely into the shoulder of the professor in concern, sweeping away in a perfect imitation of his usual walking tactics.

If Hermione had seen Snape's face has she sped towards the castle, she would have been very surprised indeed. Instead of his usual glowering countenance, Snape's eyes crackled with amusement as he lifted his lofty eyebrows and quirked the corner of his mouth into a wry half-smile. Stiffening, Snape wiped the expression off his face as he too swept across the grounds to eat a rather more somber meal than usual.

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A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed - sorry it took so long to get this second chapter up, and see, I haven't abandoned this story. Sorry if this chapter is a bit strange, I wrote it at two in the morning, which always makes my writing rather peculiar. So please review, I'm sure there are inaccuracies galore that need fixing. Oh, and sorry about the short chapter, the next one will have more action in it, I promise.