uh... i can't think of an author's note. just think up something clever and pretend i said it.

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Chapter Twelve
The Alma Mater

The faint sound of someone moving around woke Hermione from her strangely peaceful dreams of red trains and castles. Hermione enjoyed the luxury of slowly coming to consciousness. The bed, blankets, and pillow were excessively fluffy this morning. She vaguely thought of trying to find her watch to see what time it was, but gave it up. Moving would only destroy the lovely sensation of this scarlet cocoon.

Wait. Red? Her comforter was green. Hermione struggled out of the blankets and sat up. Since when were the walls made of stone?

"Tea, Miss?" A voice squeaked behind her. Hermione turned and damn near fell out of the bed in shock. A small green person with big floppy ears was offering her a china cup filled with steaming liquid.

"Er, thanks." Hermione took the cup automatically and sipped the brown liquid. Very good tea.

"The sirs are waiting for you outside Miss." The creature beamed at her in a maternal sort of way and left. Part of Hermione's brain was unsurprised by this event, while the other part was gibbering in a corner. Something wasn't quite right.

She poured herself some more tea from the pot left behind by the small creature and considered this. Hermione remembered leaving London with those two men, Harry and Ron. Ron mentioned wistfully that the Hogwarts Express couldn't come for them so they would have to Apperate. Before she could ask what he was talking about (although she had no idea where to start) she was standing outside the grounds of a large, familiarly unfamiliar castle.

After walking up to the castle steps, the prim woman who greeted them said something about owls before leading them down several meandering corridors, up three staircases, down another and across a courtyard before depositing them in what looked to be the guest quarters.

She must have fallen asleep immediately. Three weeks of undercover work coupled with several Dreams and not sleeping at all last night had conspired to make her very tired.

Her watch read 5:15. She wondered if that was a.m. or p.m. Her coat and shoes lay by the door, but she had slept in her clothes, which were now distinctly rumpled. There was a bathroom connected to the bedroom, also decked out in scarlet. There was a hair brush and (thank god) toothbrush and Hermione did her best to make it look as if she had not just woken up.

That battle won, or at least fought to a stalemate, Hermione went to find the 'sirs'.

Her room opened into a small sitting room, decorated in (what else) red. Another door led off into a second bedroom, unoccupied. Hermione tried the third door, feeling as if she were on some strange game show. This one led out into the courtyard of last night.

Two men sat by the fountain. When she came out they stood quickly, trying to look as if they had not been waiting around for the past hour. The three stood like that for a moment, feeling extremely awkward. What was an appropriate topic of conversation in this situation?

Good morning Hermione. You're looking well. By the way, do you happen to remember anything about your life?

Hello Ron. Terribly sorry, but I still have no clue who you are and do you mind telling me just where the hell I am?

"Er. Mornin'" The one with glasses, no his name was Harry. Harry spoke to the ground with both hands stuffed into his pockets, making him look rather like a schoolboy caught ditching class.

"Miss Granger, I can't tell you how delighted I am to see you again." The prim woman from last night strode down the hallway, beaming at her. As an afterthought, Hermione's brain noted that the woman was wearing velvet robes and a witch's hat.

"Er, yeah." Hermione desperately searched her memory for a name to put with the face. It hovered at the very edge of her tongue, only to flee at the next words.

"Dumbledore wishes to see all of you. I trust you remember the way?" The question was directed at Harry, who grinned in a feebly embarrassed sort of way. Hermione waited until the woman was out of earshot to speak.

"Who's Dumbledore?"

Ron looked faintly annoyed, as if he'd hoped that the few hours of sleep between dawn in the park and the early morning here would have jogged her memory. Hermione was also annoyed, because those memories kept popping into her head, then fading away like mist on the wind before she could get more than a vague impression. Harry sensed danger brewing.

"Uh, his office is this way."
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.•´¨`•»¦«•Kerowyn•»¦«•´¨`•.