Title: A Most Singular Change
Author: Rose With Thorns
Pairing: SS/HG, hints at others later
Warnings: Minor Character Deaths
Rating: PG-13 for now
Summary: After a difficult year of taking her Sixth and Seventh year classes at the same time, Hermione finds herself teaching at Hogwarts and discovers she's got a surprising gift. A gift so rare and strange, she automatically fears she may not know who she really is. A gift only seen in old Pureblood lines. When all she knows is untrue and everything she loves is gone, Hermione finds that the only thing she can cling to is her foundling friendships with the Professors McGonnegal and Snape.
Hogwarts' Student's Project Saves Lives!
It seems there are more people coming out than in at St. Mungo's recently, reports Vanessa McStern. And it is all thanks to the diligent work of Seventh Year student Hermione Granger.
Granger's project was a Transfiguration one: To simply find a better, more reliable power source for Muggle electronics in the Wizarding World. Those without young children will not know that many teens today in Diagon Alley are quite perturbed to find their CD players-little circular things that play music-do not work in heavily magicked areas. Miss Granger, a Gryffindor, has not only solved this problem, but discovered a way to power large pieces of Muggle machinery with Magic.
"I really hope that my project will help those who, until now, have been deemed beyond hope at St. Mungo's. Muggle technology has found multiple cures for diseases and disorders that the Wizarding World are only just understanding. On the other hand, perhaps, someday, Muggles will be able to benefit from this advancement in the future."
After giving a very generous gift to St. Mungo's-the free use of the charm for as long as they need it-a few anonymous benefactors contributed by purchasing Muggle machinery for the new Oncology Floor. Miss Granger was very surprised.
"Really, I had no idea that others would feel as keenly about this as I do." Miss Granger is well known at Hogwarts for her passionate views, and graduated at the top of her class this past June. When asked about her plans, Miss Granger laughs. "I really have so many things I want to accomplish, I'm not quite sure what I'll be doing first."
Miss Granger may be more familiar as the friend and perhaps romantic interest of Harry-
The rest of the parchment was torn off.
Hermione stuck her tongue out at the paper, and, munching angrily on a spoonful of cereal, flipped to the next page.
Hermione,
She smiled. Minerva had dropped formalities the second she placed her diploma in her hand, and with only a few days left until she left for home on the train, the two were quick to form a close bond. She always loved her letters-she'd received only a few letters since the beginning of the summer from her former teacher, but each flowed with her beautiful words and handwriting, a few clips from Wizarding papers. She no longer received the paper at home; her parents would see it.
Who simply thought she'd received a letter from Harry. Her father looked up at her.
"How is he, dear?"
Hermione swallowed her bran. "Good." Her stomach didn't even give it's usual flip this time. She was getting better.
"What's going on with him?"
She skimmed the paper. Minerva went on to talk about her plans for the school year and how happy she was to have Hermione helping her the next year.
"What does it say?"
She had to stop herself from glaring at her father. "Harry wants to know if I could stay the summer at his house with his uncle. What do you think?"
Her father settled back in his chair, a hand automatically going to the side of his head, just above his ear. It was his habit, when he had to think about something, to do so. It was something she always had known, ingrained in her memory.
Then the hand reached the earlobe, and she tried very hard to stop from grinning. Her father had decided it was fine.
"I suppose it's fine. Right, Diana?" her mother gave a nod after a moment. "Right then. Write back and tell him you'll be on your way."
She gave her father a quick kiss and took the papers with her. She stopped halfway up the stairs as her father's voice, deep and still gruff from recently waking up, started.
"What, Diana?"
There was a sigh.
"Do you think she's…"
"She's what?"
"Well, she and Harry Potter are so close. Do you think she might be-well, you know…I don't think we'd be able to ex-"
"I trust her. She's our daughter. We raised her. She's so much like us. I trust her as much as I trust you or myself. Now pass the cereal, darling."
That was it. His lightning fast change of topic meant the discussion was over. Hermione made sure to stay to the wall side of the stairs to make sure that they didn't creak as she walked to her room.
The door closed behind her, and she was in her room. Or rather, what had been her room. It hadn't felt like home for two years. The flounced ruffles on the bed skirt and the white and pink pinstriped walls, brimming with books and stuffed animals, were a strange, foreign landscape she barely knew, like something from a story she'd read when she was little and still remembered pieces of.
Hermione let her shoulders sag as she sat on the bed, the papers tightly held in her fist. Suddenly, she was very happy to realize that none of her usual emotional and physical after-effects of a heavy dose of lying were present.
Now, many young adults feel the need to lie to their parents; it gives them the feeling of independency, that they don't need their parent's involvement. It happens everyday in any house one wishes to look where there are people of that age.
However, Deatheater attacks, teaching positions, and Time Turners where altogether something very different.
Hermione, knowing that her parents were slightly more protective and had not yet truly realized she was an adult, had simply forgotten to tell her parents she'd been attacked by Death-eaters at the end of her fifth year, that she forged their handwriting on the permission slip for the Time Turner for the past year, and that she was not returning for Seventh Year.
She knew her parents couldn't be fooled much longer; they were not stupid people. With this in mind, she applied, and then signed, the past summer, for the use of a Time Turner, explaining to Professor Dumbledore that she was worried with the war coming that she wouldn't finish her classes. Now a member of the Order, it was important to have as much information and experience behind her when the time came to fight.
So she'd spent the last year taking her Sixth Year courses, she'd sleep for one hour, and then prepare for her Seventh Year classes. It was a grueling schedule, but because of it she finally realized she needed to take care of herself better. Well, it had taken Madame Pomfrey banning her weekly request for Pepper-Up for her to realize it, but that was besides the point.
The students knew. They didn't know why and came up with their own ideas. Especially since she had been a shoe in for Head Girl. Hermione had found that to be the hardest part of it all, but then Minerva had asked her if she wanted to come back the following year and teach Transfiguration to the First and Second Years, and suddenly giving up that shining pin and private room wasn't so bad.
Halfway through the year, Hermione had to start using the Time Turner even more to complete her graduation project. Dumbledore had told her to be careful. Minerva gave her mother-like glances. She ignored them and trudged along, working on her project.
It was age-old. More students had done it than not, but Hermione knew she'd solve it. She could feel the arm movements of the charm after looking at only a few books.
Not surprisingly, Minerva had overseen the project. The rapid evolution of the project seemed not as alarming when one was in the middle of it, and it was only afterwards, staring blankly at her notes, that she realized she'd solved a problem equivalent to world hunger.
There were a few pieces of equipment, Muggle in origin, that most people would think already used the technology, like the Wizarding Radio. However, it really was only an amplifying charm tweaked to come out of the small box. She soon found this out.
Hermione even Owled her mother for batteries, and when they arrived, she made her way to the dungeons.
The chemical make-up, she knew, was something that any look in a Muggle book she could look up. However, the make-up of a battery, from a Wizard's point of view, was something different.
Snape proved to be as rude and as greasy as in the classroom at first, but over her time in those cold rooms, he'd seemed to have forgotten she was a Gryffindor-for the most part. Hermione was still reminded from time to time that her 'do first, ask questions later' responses to things were because of her House. However, by the time her need for the use of his lab and his thoughts was over, she sorely missed his quick tongue and intellect.
Something indeed lacking from others.
Hermione turned her attention to the letter, leaving her reverie for another time, and hastily scribbled a note back.
Time Turners were wondrous things. Not only had it allowed her to do twice the work in one year, it also made her, by Ministry's decree, an adult. It was with that satisfying thought that she went to get her wand out of its place in her top drawer to be able to practice some of that legal magic now.
But it was already in her hand.
Frowning at it, she looked around to see if there was anyone in her room. She hadn't picked it up, she knew.
With an aggravated sigh she stopped.
This was happening more and more. She'd wake up and find, after barely thinking about getting her clothes out for the day, that they sat where she usually put them. Or, when she was in the middle of a good book and about to get up for piece of the biscotti her mother always had in the pantry, the container would find its way to her hand.
She'd have to look into it.
Hermione put it on top of the list of things to do once reaching Hogwarts.
Her bag was packed quickly, and she'd already taken all the money she was in possession of and had moved it to an account at Gringotts. With her plans to spend as much time at the school as possible, she'd not wanted to have to Owl home for money. In fact, she'd saved up quite a sum.
Her mother was calling to her now from the foot of the stairs, and she came out into the hallway.
"Hermione, we're leaving for-Oh my!"
She gave her mother a look of alarm. "Something wrong?"
Diana Granger gave her daughter an uncomfortable look. "It's…nothing really."
Hermione moved to the top of the stairs. "It's obviously something."
Her mother leaned on the balustrade. "You just looked-oh I don't know," she sighed and threw a hand through her neat, blonde hair. Her chin fell on her hand and she gave her daughter a smile. "You're growing up, Hermione."
She rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, Mum. I promise I'll still be here when you get back and that I won't have gone through my mid-life crisis."
This made her laugh and she walked out into the entrance hallway, and the sound of the door shutting and gravel bouncing in the driveway let her know they were gone.
Curiosity provoked, Hermione moved to the mirror midway up the stairs. Was she really starting to look her age?
A bit. The cheekbones were becoming more defined; looking directly into the mirror she could see the little shadow. Her face had already started to loose its childhood innocence.
The down side of Time-Turner's, really.
An owl, one of Hogwarts', tapped on the window. It had been a few hours since she'd sent her reply, and she grinned when she realized that Minerva had either not been doing anything, or had dropped whatever she'd been doing to send her letter back.
Hermione,
Tomorrow, I will personally attend to seeing you to Hogwarts at eleven. We've much to discuss and only the rest of summer to sort things out.
Your Friend,
Minerva
Minerva knew all about the circumstances. She'd marched Hermione into her office the second day of school and charmed the door shut and refused to open it until the girl explained everything to her.
She'd never condoned the situation, but then again she never made any attempt to let her parents know what she was doing.
They'd grown close. Hermione spent so much time in her class and then after for her project that it would have been hard not to.
Now she was to be her assistant teacher, and Minerva had already told her she had her heart set on retiring as soon as she could find someone she trusted wholeheartedly with the fresh-minds of Hogwarts. At the end of the year, Hermione was going to have to face her parents about her already-made decisions for her future.
She spent the rest of the day working on her first day speech to her students. The very idea alone-having her own students-was positively earth-shattering and scary. Above all else, she told herself, she was older than them, smarter than them, and knew more about Transfiguration than them.
Merlin's balls, she'd spent too much time in the dungeons.
Her parents arrived home, chattering away about this patient and that nurse, and Hermione politely listened. Finally, after a rather long story about a patient with braces who told her mother that he'd been eating nothing but what he should have been but then had tell-tale remains in the braces, Hermione cleared her throat.
"Oh, did you find out when Harry wants you over, dear?" her father asked.
Leave it to him to make it sound like she was going over to have tea.
"Tomorrow at eleven. Professor McGonegal will be here to pick me up."
"That soon? Ah well, I was bursting at the seams to get out of the house when I was your age. It's understandable." He laughed. "So what do you do while your there?"
"Read. Study. Do homework. Fight with Ron…"
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "He's dating Luna from school. No worries, Mum."
"Fine. Well, why don't we go see a movie? Perhaps there's something you'd like to watch?"
"I'll go pick the movie. I haven't gotten to do this for years."
Hermione grimaced. The movie downright fowl, and she had half a nerve to simply get up and walk out of it.
Her father had never been one for those exceedingly gory movies, nor had he ever pressed upon the two women to go see them. A glance over at her mother, who seemed to be expression the same desire until recently, made her wish she hadn't. Her father chuckled as a vampire's head was blown off and then when George Clooney's character killed his brother. This definitely wasn't like her father.
"Just let him enjoy it. A little pretending never hurt anyone," her mother whispered, trying to excuse his behavior.
Hermione turned to watch the movie, swallowing down the burning feeling in her throat and chest that made it hard to breathe. She knew very well how to pretend. Her mother needn't tell her.
Minerva came by way of Floo, and made the most graceful exit from the fireplace that her admiration for the woman increased. She took a quick glance around at the room and then smiled at Hermione's parents.
"Doctors Granger, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Hermione's Head of House, Minerva McGonnegal."
She shook their hands and exchanged pleasantries, and soon enough Hermione found herself in the strong goodbye hug of her teary mother and the kiss on the head from her father. With one last look back and 'good-bye', Hermione stepped into the fire and soon felt the tug at her navel as she spiraled towards King Cross Station.
"But can't you Floo to Hogwarts? I thought the Headmaster set up wards so that only-"
Minerva took her spectacles off for a moment and polished them, eying her wearily. "Things are changing and I think we both know it."
Hermione nodded, and suddenly realized that she was the more formal of the two. Minerva had on a pants suit, the sort that older women wore, with flats. Her hair was still up in its usual severe knot. Hermione, on the other hand, had tried to pick something to wear that didn't make the staff think of her as Hermione, the Girl Who Just Graduated, but as Hermione, the New Teacher. The black pencil skirt, white blouse and low pumps, along with her loose bun, made her fit in well with the streaming mid-day traffic of Muggle workers through the train station.
"I'm aware."
They made their way through to the platform, waited until there was a large group of people in front of it, and walked through.
The train was waiting, and Hermione found it surprising to find no sign of students and their families. There were quite a few witches and wizards filing on, no doubt making trips to Hogsmeade. She and Minerva made their way to an open compartment and seated themselves.
"It's always the strangest the first time back on," Minerva said, consolingly. She patted Hermione's hand and gave her a smile. "You seem distracted. Everything alright at home?"
Hermione shrugged. "They just…they're so set in their ideas of this school as being some kind of theme park. It's all a bit, well, aggravating."
Minerva nodded, sitting back and glancing at the girl sagely. "Believe we wave twigs around all day and frolic in costumes, correct? Parents cam be very naive when they don't want to believe something about their children."
"I'd never have taken you for having-"
She nodded. "The way some of them treated you," she trailed off and a look of pain crossed her face. "I felt like a second year being prodded by Lucius' older brother all over again."
This was a bit of a shocking news. Minerva gave her a small smile. "I will let you know now that I'm not the only staff member with secrets." She leaned forward and clasped her hand. "I tell you this now for your safety: Tread wisely. I don't want you having a spat with any of the teachers."
Hermione swallowed a laugh. "Well, I'll try, but I already have a few-"
The door opened and a man with sloppy chin length hair cautiously poked a head in, causing Hermione to beam. "Professor Lupin! How wonderful to see you."
He gave a small smile, and sat down wearily. "Hello, Hermione. What are you doing here?"
Hermione turned to Minerva, who was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. "You never told any of them, did you?"
"As the professor of Transfiguration , the Headmaster allows me to elect anyone I wish to an assistant job as I see fit," she replied archly. "It's absolutely none of their business."
Remus grinned. "I wish I could say this is a pleasant surprise, but it isn't. Minerva was hinting at it all last year in the teacher's room." He shook his head. "Damned woman can't keep a secret."
The ride past quicker than Hermione ever remembered it to. Soon the beautiful landscapes of Scotland were rolling past them. Remus stretched a leg out and gave a yawn.
The train slowed and stopped and they filed out. Hermione felt her stomach give a small flop as she made her way to the entrance gates to Hogwarts.
She'd never used this entrance as a student.
The brick and wrought iron gates loomed over her, more stately than anything else, and through the intricate trellis she could see Hogwarts, a mish-mosh of towers and steeples. A few rooms were lit, and the light hit the lake, and the mountains and Forbidden Forest loomed behind it all.
It was beautiful.
Minerva's hand sought hers in a sisterly gesture, and she turned to see the woman give her a happy look.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Hermione."
Author's Notes
The movie- From Dusk Til Dawn-I know, an American movie, but it was released in UK theaters in May of 1996, so it would be in theaters, and before any uppity people start to protest that the movie is good and that I'm a stupid person for saying otherwise, I've watched it. I like it, actually, when I'm PMSing. I don't know. I just do.