A/N: Wow! Twelve reviews altogether! :D thank you: Tabii (yay! You LOVE
this! *huggles* , Gwendellen Snape (hurrah! Lookie, see? I updated!) ,
Killer Angel (aw, garsh, yur on'y sayin' that. =^_^=) , kaylakmk (yet
another person loves this! Ah, I could die! I write I write, see, wee!) ,
and Romm (o_0; erm... lol?) and to anybody I may have missed, THANK
YOU!!!!! For reviewing. Reading. Being my indirect friend! Wee! *skips off
singing 'this old man' in French*
By the way, I think I only own the thickened plot. I mean, the idea of Hermione going back in time has been done thousands of times before *gets dizzy eyes* but my way of sending her back, and all of that crap, belongs to ME. I don't own HP in general.
And for those who may have been confused by the last chapter, and even for those who haven't: Hermione found that, because she was so far back in the past and didn't belong there, Sirius and Co. won't remember her once she leaves their timeline. Them or anybody else she's "Affected" I suppose you could say. But she COULD , say, kill James or Lily and then go back, but whomever she killed would still be dead. Understand? And, if you don't already know, Hermione could dodge Time and live with the aftermath effects, but the moment her baby self was made, it would be killed immediately, because two people in one time can't live at once.
That means, that the moment her little glop-of-cells-self died, then she'd be dead. Because she **/wouldn't have been born/** DO YOU PEOPLE UNDERSTAND??? So you also understand that it is **extremely** risky for Hermione to live in the time she's in.
If you have any questions, any at all, then please! Don't hesitate to ask! I'm all for answering! :'D
.
.
.
Hermione dawdled on her way back, trying to sort things out. Now, at least, she knew she could associate with the marauders and Lily. But she didn't know if knowing her, Hermione Granger, would change anything. She might inspire a personality change, or, or accidentally put somebody like James or Lily in the wrong place at the wrong time, thus disabling Harry's birth. She could destroy the future.
She could ruin everything that had happened in the past twenty or so years.
She had that power in her hands.
It didn't feel too good. Groaning slightly, she cut back to Madame Pomfrey's and got another dose of potions.
'What else can I do?' Hermione thought, watching her feet as she took one step; then another; and another. 'I know I can destroy the future with just a few words, but is there a way, any way at all that I can contact Harry?' she felt a slight pang. Harry. What would he be doing now? Was he worried about her? Hoping that she was okay? Frantically begging anybody to bring her back safely? Or perhaps volunteering to find a way to bring her back himself? Did he perhaps have a crush on her too? Maybe, when she got back, they could...?
Hermione shook her head. 'Don't get your hopes up for something that'll never happen in a third lifetime.' She informed herself firmly mentally.
Back in the common room, she had just sat down in her shadowed corner when a red haired seventh year stepped in and called, "Do I have a Ms. Hermione Granger?"
Noting the books under one arm and the papers clenched in the other, Hermione stood up quickly and hurried over.
"I am," she murmured.
"Here are your books, and your schedule," the red head went on, oblivious to something such as lowering her voice. "Classes start a bit earlier, and of course they end a bit later. I've already alerted your teachers to their new student, have a good night." She shoved the books and papers into Hermione's arms, then went off to gossip with her friends, or so it looked.
Hermione teetered slowly over to her corner and dropped her new stuff, putting it all in her *freakin' borrowed* bag before studying her new schedule. It didn't look too bad, and after a bit she tucked it safely into her robes (she'd need a change pretty soon.) and then took out her books one at a time, reading their covers. Finally, she settled on 'The Dark Arts: Spells and Hexes Most Used' and began reading through it.
And so, she passed the time like this, and only had some form of trouble once.
"New books and classes, huh? What's up with that?"
Hermione glanced up sharply at James, and almost screamed when she found how obnoxiously close his face was. Good Lord, he looked like Harry. But they didn't have the same green eyes, filled with wisdom and caring, and he just... wasn't Harry. Definitely NOT a replacement.
"I'm the grader, remember? Trade student. I'm just doing the same classes at a higher level is all."
"And in a different order, I can't help but notice, without any fifth years."
"Well, this is a sixth year schedule." That said, Hermione returned to 'The Difference Between Herbs, Fungi, and Unicorns' and hoped James would catch the hint and leave.
He didn't.
"I think that you're avoiding us," he said, voice dripping something cynical sounding. Not quite sarcasm.
"Ya think?" Hermione asked. She looked up at him and jumped again slightly at how close his proximity was. Deciding to be blunt, in case he were slower than his son, Hermione said, "Go away, James. I want to be left alone."
He sat there in front of her for a moment and held her gaze. After a while of not blinking, she lifted her chin slightly and her eyes darted somewhere behind James then back to him in an unmistakably gesture to leave. He sighed, got up, and left up the boys' dormitory.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione managed to review all of her books before falling back into a semi-conscious sleep, in which dreams off being trapped in the wrong timeline until she died haunted her and woke her up in enough time to get to the great hall and breakfast when there were only very few students.
Thrilled that there were only three Gryffindors up (the head girl and prefects) at the other end of the table, Hermione let herself sit down and eat quickly like that while taking out her schedule and wondering if she could memorize it in record time.
Stomach fuller than it had been in the mornings since she had gotten back there, Hermione exited the great hall just as the noise level began to pick up and she saw the marauders out of the corner of her eye.
After taking her morning "medications" she found her classroom, and sat down just as the teacher and students walked in.
All of the sixth years were older, thus, bigger than Hermione in every aspect, and she was only slightly intimidated by them
After her slight introduction in every class (her classes hadn't changed, just the order they were in and their grade level) she found that these classes were /much/ more challenging.
And when classes were finally over for the day, Hermione could only compare the amount of homework she had to the amount she had gotten before the finals at first year. She took her 'medications' then found her shady corner, getting to work on her homework. It was something to do, to keep her mind off things.
The marauders didn't bother her, nor did anybody else, and even Lily seemed to view Hermione from an exasperated point of view.
The next day was no different, and when the weekend rolled around, Hermione was sitting in her corner with papers and books strewn around her, feeling almost giddy from the amount of homework she had. She had tried to do some of it cold turkey, but now discovered that sixth year level was much too high for her.
Another marauder-free week passed, and it was on Friday, at the end of the day, that the marauders approached her again.
"Falling behind in your work?" Sirius asked, startling her.
Hermione looked around. Nobody else was in the darkened common room. She looked back at him.
"Go away. If you'd like the truth, no, I'm not. I'd just like to get it done on time, and I will be falling behind if you don't leave me alone." She waited a moment, but he didn't leave. On the contrary, he shuffled some papers and books aside and around, then sat down next to her and leaned over, looking at her current two and a half foot essay on werewolves.
"You seem to know a lot about werewolves," he observed.
"It's called paying attention in class. You ought to try it sometime, it really pays off on your grade."
"Touché," he said wisely, "but I know more about werewolves than you think."
"Ho yeah?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes, 'Don't give yourself away,' a little voice in the back of her mind said. 'Bah! Show that little bastard who's the Smart One and who can push around who!' her integrity cried. "What, have you seen one up close and talked to one?" chalk one up for integrity.
"Yes, actually. Have you?"
"Yeah."
"Really? When?"
"As if I'm telling you that," Hermione paused. Oh, what the hell. "In my third year, a werewolf taught one of my classes."
"Still with the trade student thing, huh?" he asked, rolling his eyes heavenward. "All right, then, two can play at that game. What was this doggy-boy's surname?"
'Yeah, right, like I'm going to tell you that.' "I can't remember."
"Humph." He snorted. "Sure, you remember. Alright, Mrs. I've-seen-a- werewolf-up-close, what's it look like?"
"Taller than me, very good teacher, all the students loved him, actually kind of cute..."
"No you idiot, as a werewolf."
"Oh." Hermione paused, than recited (by heart) her essay she had done for Snape that third year.
When that was done, she told him to go away, and went on with her work. For a while, she thought he had gone, he was so still and quiet, but well after one in the morning, when she finally finished and had stuck everything in her (borrowed. Borrowed, dangit!) book bag, and she stood up and stretched, he stood up as well, startling her.
"Are you /still/ here?" she asked impatiently. "I thought you went and did something useful, like, like going to bed."
"Nope," he told her brightly, if not a little thickly from lack of sleep. Hermione glanced at him sideways, looking at him strangely. "I told you I'd hound you until you told me the truth."
"Sirius, I'm a trade student, get over it."
"That's not true. I can tell, I've been lying all my life."
"Don't stop now," Hermione told him sarcastically, collapsing on her usual squishy armchair.
"Why don't you ever sleep up in the girls' dormitory?" he asked, shoving her over and plopping down next to her.
"That's none of your business. I'm going to sleep, because it's the smart sensible thing to do, and /you/ can't stop me."
Now it was Sirius' turn to look at her strangely from the side.
"Yeah. Sure," he told her. She glared at him. "Then go to sleep if you're going to." He smirked self-consciously. "I can't stop you, remember?"
"Not while you're hovering above me, no way!" she hissed.
"Why not? I can't stop you from sleeping, right? So, what's up?"
"The ceiling is what's up, first of all, and second; I don't sleep well with others! Go to bed."
"It's not like I'm sleeping with you."
"So? You're still just sitting there and staring at me, and I can't fall asleep with you doing that."
"I'll go to bed if you spill the beans."
"Hah! Nice try! I know what you're doing, you're going to try and get me to tell you the truth by making me tired and delusional! Well, I'll have you know, that won't work on me! nope, nothing works on me!" with that triumphant speech said, she crossed her legs and arms, then proceeded to glare at him.
Sirius stared at her.
"Okay," he said at last. "I haven't got a problem with that."
By the way, I think I only own the thickened plot. I mean, the idea of Hermione going back in time has been done thousands of times before *gets dizzy eyes* but my way of sending her back, and all of that crap, belongs to ME. I don't own HP in general.
And for those who may have been confused by the last chapter, and even for those who haven't: Hermione found that, because she was so far back in the past and didn't belong there, Sirius and Co. won't remember her once she leaves their timeline. Them or anybody else she's "Affected" I suppose you could say. But she COULD , say, kill James or Lily and then go back, but whomever she killed would still be dead. Understand? And, if you don't already know, Hermione could dodge Time and live with the aftermath effects, but the moment her baby self was made, it would be killed immediately, because two people in one time can't live at once.
That means, that the moment her little glop-of-cells-self died, then she'd be dead. Because she **/wouldn't have been born/** DO YOU PEOPLE UNDERSTAND??? So you also understand that it is **extremely** risky for Hermione to live in the time she's in.
If you have any questions, any at all, then please! Don't hesitate to ask! I'm all for answering! :'D
.
.
.
Hermione dawdled on her way back, trying to sort things out. Now, at least, she knew she could associate with the marauders and Lily. But she didn't know if knowing her, Hermione Granger, would change anything. She might inspire a personality change, or, or accidentally put somebody like James or Lily in the wrong place at the wrong time, thus disabling Harry's birth. She could destroy the future.
She could ruin everything that had happened in the past twenty or so years.
She had that power in her hands.
It didn't feel too good. Groaning slightly, she cut back to Madame Pomfrey's and got another dose of potions.
'What else can I do?' Hermione thought, watching her feet as she took one step; then another; and another. 'I know I can destroy the future with just a few words, but is there a way, any way at all that I can contact Harry?' she felt a slight pang. Harry. What would he be doing now? Was he worried about her? Hoping that she was okay? Frantically begging anybody to bring her back safely? Or perhaps volunteering to find a way to bring her back himself? Did he perhaps have a crush on her too? Maybe, when she got back, they could...?
Hermione shook her head. 'Don't get your hopes up for something that'll never happen in a third lifetime.' She informed herself firmly mentally.
Back in the common room, she had just sat down in her shadowed corner when a red haired seventh year stepped in and called, "Do I have a Ms. Hermione Granger?"
Noting the books under one arm and the papers clenched in the other, Hermione stood up quickly and hurried over.
"I am," she murmured.
"Here are your books, and your schedule," the red head went on, oblivious to something such as lowering her voice. "Classes start a bit earlier, and of course they end a bit later. I've already alerted your teachers to their new student, have a good night." She shoved the books and papers into Hermione's arms, then went off to gossip with her friends, or so it looked.
Hermione teetered slowly over to her corner and dropped her new stuff, putting it all in her *freakin' borrowed* bag before studying her new schedule. It didn't look too bad, and after a bit she tucked it safely into her robes (she'd need a change pretty soon.) and then took out her books one at a time, reading their covers. Finally, she settled on 'The Dark Arts: Spells and Hexes Most Used' and began reading through it.
And so, she passed the time like this, and only had some form of trouble once.
"New books and classes, huh? What's up with that?"
Hermione glanced up sharply at James, and almost screamed when she found how obnoxiously close his face was. Good Lord, he looked like Harry. But they didn't have the same green eyes, filled with wisdom and caring, and he just... wasn't Harry. Definitely NOT a replacement.
"I'm the grader, remember? Trade student. I'm just doing the same classes at a higher level is all."
"And in a different order, I can't help but notice, without any fifth years."
"Well, this is a sixth year schedule." That said, Hermione returned to 'The Difference Between Herbs, Fungi, and Unicorns' and hoped James would catch the hint and leave.
He didn't.
"I think that you're avoiding us," he said, voice dripping something cynical sounding. Not quite sarcasm.
"Ya think?" Hermione asked. She looked up at him and jumped again slightly at how close his proximity was. Deciding to be blunt, in case he were slower than his son, Hermione said, "Go away, James. I want to be left alone."
He sat there in front of her for a moment and held her gaze. After a while of not blinking, she lifted her chin slightly and her eyes darted somewhere behind James then back to him in an unmistakably gesture to leave. He sighed, got up, and left up the boys' dormitory.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione managed to review all of her books before falling back into a semi-conscious sleep, in which dreams off being trapped in the wrong timeline until she died haunted her and woke her up in enough time to get to the great hall and breakfast when there were only very few students.
Thrilled that there were only three Gryffindors up (the head girl and prefects) at the other end of the table, Hermione let herself sit down and eat quickly like that while taking out her schedule and wondering if she could memorize it in record time.
Stomach fuller than it had been in the mornings since she had gotten back there, Hermione exited the great hall just as the noise level began to pick up and she saw the marauders out of the corner of her eye.
After taking her morning "medications" she found her classroom, and sat down just as the teacher and students walked in.
All of the sixth years were older, thus, bigger than Hermione in every aspect, and she was only slightly intimidated by them
After her slight introduction in every class (her classes hadn't changed, just the order they were in and their grade level) she found that these classes were /much/ more challenging.
And when classes were finally over for the day, Hermione could only compare the amount of homework she had to the amount she had gotten before the finals at first year. She took her 'medications' then found her shady corner, getting to work on her homework. It was something to do, to keep her mind off things.
The marauders didn't bother her, nor did anybody else, and even Lily seemed to view Hermione from an exasperated point of view.
The next day was no different, and when the weekend rolled around, Hermione was sitting in her corner with papers and books strewn around her, feeling almost giddy from the amount of homework she had. She had tried to do some of it cold turkey, but now discovered that sixth year level was much too high for her.
Another marauder-free week passed, and it was on Friday, at the end of the day, that the marauders approached her again.
"Falling behind in your work?" Sirius asked, startling her.
Hermione looked around. Nobody else was in the darkened common room. She looked back at him.
"Go away. If you'd like the truth, no, I'm not. I'd just like to get it done on time, and I will be falling behind if you don't leave me alone." She waited a moment, but he didn't leave. On the contrary, he shuffled some papers and books aside and around, then sat down next to her and leaned over, looking at her current two and a half foot essay on werewolves.
"You seem to know a lot about werewolves," he observed.
"It's called paying attention in class. You ought to try it sometime, it really pays off on your grade."
"Touché," he said wisely, "but I know more about werewolves than you think."
"Ho yeah?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes, 'Don't give yourself away,' a little voice in the back of her mind said. 'Bah! Show that little bastard who's the Smart One and who can push around who!' her integrity cried. "What, have you seen one up close and talked to one?" chalk one up for integrity.
"Yes, actually. Have you?"
"Yeah."
"Really? When?"
"As if I'm telling you that," Hermione paused. Oh, what the hell. "In my third year, a werewolf taught one of my classes."
"Still with the trade student thing, huh?" he asked, rolling his eyes heavenward. "All right, then, two can play at that game. What was this doggy-boy's surname?"
'Yeah, right, like I'm going to tell you that.' "I can't remember."
"Humph." He snorted. "Sure, you remember. Alright, Mrs. I've-seen-a- werewolf-up-close, what's it look like?"
"Taller than me, very good teacher, all the students loved him, actually kind of cute..."
"No you idiot, as a werewolf."
"Oh." Hermione paused, than recited (by heart) her essay she had done for Snape that third year.
When that was done, she told him to go away, and went on with her work. For a while, she thought he had gone, he was so still and quiet, but well after one in the morning, when she finally finished and had stuck everything in her (borrowed. Borrowed, dangit!) book bag, and she stood up and stretched, he stood up as well, startling her.
"Are you /still/ here?" she asked impatiently. "I thought you went and did something useful, like, like going to bed."
"Nope," he told her brightly, if not a little thickly from lack of sleep. Hermione glanced at him sideways, looking at him strangely. "I told you I'd hound you until you told me the truth."
"Sirius, I'm a trade student, get over it."
"That's not true. I can tell, I've been lying all my life."
"Don't stop now," Hermione told him sarcastically, collapsing on her usual squishy armchair.
"Why don't you ever sleep up in the girls' dormitory?" he asked, shoving her over and plopping down next to her.
"That's none of your business. I'm going to sleep, because it's the smart sensible thing to do, and /you/ can't stop me."
Now it was Sirius' turn to look at her strangely from the side.
"Yeah. Sure," he told her. She glared at him. "Then go to sleep if you're going to." He smirked self-consciously. "I can't stop you, remember?"
"Not while you're hovering above me, no way!" she hissed.
"Why not? I can't stop you from sleeping, right? So, what's up?"
"The ceiling is what's up, first of all, and second; I don't sleep well with others! Go to bed."
"It's not like I'm sleeping with you."
"So? You're still just sitting there and staring at me, and I can't fall asleep with you doing that."
"I'll go to bed if you spill the beans."
"Hah! Nice try! I know what you're doing, you're going to try and get me to tell you the truth by making me tired and delusional! Well, I'll have you know, that won't work on me! nope, nothing works on me!" with that triumphant speech said, she crossed her legs and arms, then proceeded to glare at him.
Sirius stared at her.
"Okay," he said at last. "I haven't got a problem with that."