Chapter One: And So It Begins

Hermione awoke with a start. She took in her surroundings quickly, noticing that she was still in the same room, only without the chair. It seemed that whatever Malfoy's plan had been, it had obviously failed to produce the desired results. Standing up, she pulled the door open and peered out. The corridors were completely devoid of life. Who knows how long I've been lost, she thought with despair. Harry and Ron, if they had any sense at all to check on her, would probably be frantic by now.

She hurried down the corridor, trying her best to make as little noise as possible. Making her way up the staircase, she paused every few moments to check for footsteps. When she heard none, she continued up, finally reaching the doorway to the Entrance Hall. That, too, was empty.

It took her very little time to make her way up to the seventh floor, where the entrance to Gryffindor tower was located. She found it rather odd that there were no prefects roaming the halls, but wrote it off to the fact that it must be rather late in the night. Stopping outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, she paused. "Fortuna Major," she said, waiting impatiently for the door to open.

"I'm sorry. No one gets in without the correct password," the Fat Lady replied.

"But that was the password this morning," Hermione said sternly. It was not like her to forget the password to the dormitories. Obviously, someone had had it changed.

"I'm sorry. Please, go back where you came from."

Hermione looked at her curiously, "But don't you recognize me. I come through here all the time. I've never forgotten the password, ever. They've changed it without giving me notice, I'm sure." She pointed down to her prefect badge, "Would a prefect lie to you?"

The Fat Lady looked down at her disdainfully, "I don't know what you are talking about young lady. For the life of me, I know I haven't seen you before. Now please, go away or I'll go off to find the Headmaster."

Hermione slumped down to the floor, leaning against the walls. "Fine. I'll just wait until someone comes along to let me in then."

"Suit yourself," the Fat Lady responded before falling quickly to sleep.

"A whole lot of good you are," Hermione muttered, staring off into the darkness. If Filch came along, she knew that she was in for it, but there really wasn't anywhere else to go. "For having been blacked out for heaven knows how long, I'm terribly tired," she mumbled, "Perhaps a nap would do me well. Someone will come along eventually." And with that, Hermione slipped off into an exhausted sleep.

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"Well, that's curious. There's a girl sleeping against the door."

"Like we couldn't see that, Peter."

"Well... I just..."

"She's wearing a Gryffindor robe, but I'm certain I've never seen her before."

"And of course, James would know. There's no way an attractive female could ever get past him."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. There were people standing in front of her, and she didn't dare open her eyes. Those names though, they sound so familiar, she thought. There's something about them, she decided, but she was too tired to know what it was for sure.

"For heaven's sake, she's wearing a prefects badge. Of all the people here, you should know who she is, Remus."

She opened one eye carefully, watching as a tall, black haired, bespectacled boy poked a shorter brunette's chest, over what she assumed was his prefect badge. Hermione was certain she knew him, but couldn't put her finger on from where that was.

"G...g...guys... You've woken her up."

"An astute observation, Wormtail," a lanky, black-haired boy said, punching a short, pudgy blonde boy in the shoulder.

"Hello there. May I ask what you're doing sleeping in the hallway in the middle of the night?" the small brunette asked. He knelt down beside her, and Hermione noticed that he did, in fact, have a prefect's badge pinned to his chest.

"I got locked out of the common room. I couldn't remember the password... they must have changed it," she said absently. Looking at the four trivially, she asked, "And who are you then?"

The black-haired boy with glasses puffed his chest out proudly, "Why, you must have heard of James Potter, I'm sure. I'm only the Chaser for Gryffindor, you know. These are my followers, er... I mean, friends." Off his comment, two of the three remaining boys rolled their eyes before he continued. "That's Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew," he said, pointing to each boy in turn.

Hermione backed away from the one kneeling beside her, the one identified as Remus Lupin, and looked at them with wide eyes, "Do you think you're being funny? What are you four trying to pull?" She rolled her eyes, calming slightly. "Okay, so how did you four actually figure out the Polyjuice potion, and whose hair did you steal exactly? I don't recognize a single one of you. I'm sure Fred and George must have put you up to this."

The four boys looked at each other in confusion, then glanced back at her. "Who are Fred and George? Did you bump your head on something, miss?" It was Lupin again.

"I have not bumped my head on anything, thank you. I was told to meet Harry and Ron in the dungeon, then I was attacked by Malfoy. It was obviously a trap, but I didn't know it at the time, of course."

"Malfoy? You mean old Lucius? He hasn't been here in years, has he Sirius?" James asked.

Hermione shook her head incredulously, "Seriously, this is ridiculous. Would you four stop messing around and just let me into the common room. I'd like to go get some sleep, and this floor is rather uncomfortable."

"Tell us why Lucius Malfoy is back in Hogwarts. The old twit always was a pain in the arse when he was here."

"He was only here for one year with us, Sirius."

"I realize that, Remus, but he was still a dumb git."

"Enough, please!" Hermione exclaimed. "You know very well that I'm talking about his son, Draco. For heaven's sake, I'm sick of this game. At any rate, your Polyjuice potion is going to start wearing off soon anyway."

"That's a good one. Old Malfoy actually having a child. Who'd have thought the old git would ever find a woman," Sirius muttered.

"One could say the same thing about you," Remus said with a wink. "Honestly, I'm not sure what you think the date is exactly, but I assure you that Lucius Malfoy does not have a son old enough to attend Hogwarts, if he has one at all."

"I don't believe this. You four are exasperating. It's the year 1995. Lucius Malfoy is definitely old enough to have a son, and a rotten one at that."

"That's impossible," Peter said quietly.

"Why's that?" Hermione asked coolly. Though he couldn't possibly be the real Pettigrew, anyone masquerading as the snitch was as low as the man himself, she decided.

Sirius reached into his robe and pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet from amongst his inner pockets, handing it to Hermione. "Here, see for yourself."

Hermione took the paper and unfolded it, glancing at the top with ever-widening eyes. Printed across the top of the newspaper was the date 'November 24th, 1975.' Her grip on the paper loosened as the blackness crept upon her once more.