Tempus Fugit
By Fangs of Poison
Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything. Does anyone else, other than me, find these really stupid and pointless? I mean, if I did own these characters, I would be selling my stories, not posting them on the internet for everyone to see and read for free!
Chapter Four:
"Excellent!" Dumbledore exclaimed, a jovial expression on his face, "Most excellent, indeed!"
Hermione offered him a small smile in return. Why on earth was she needed to be in Gryffindor? Wouldn't it be better for her not to be there, considering the nature of the knowledge she possessed? Now she was going to be incredibly tempted to change the future, putting almost everyone's (at least everyone from her time's) existence on the line.
Mentally, she shook herself. Was she really trying to decipher the inner workings of a hat? The concept was almost ridiculous to consider!
Shoving these thoughts from her mind, she listened attentively as Dumbledore told her the password to get past the Fat Lady and sent her off to her "new" common room.
Blessedly, she met no one of any importance (or at least, no one of any importance in Hermione's mind) on the familiar trek up to Gryffindor Tower. Outside the Fat Lady's portrait, Hermione momentarily paused. She took a deep breath, straightened her skirt (a compulsory habit she had since she was little), and spoke the password in a nearly steady voice. The portrait swung outward, and, with a final mental preparation, Hermione stepped in.
Noise greeted Hermione, the delightful buzzing noise of many people talking at once, the bubbling of half-formed words fighting to achieve the most volume and enter the listeners' ears all at the same time. She sighed in contentment; some things may have changed in twenty years, but the excited chatter of students having been released from their daily classes was certainly not one of them.
This chatter, however, ceased the moment Hermione's presence was made known, and, of course, once everyone realized they'd never seen this strange girl before. She awkwardly stood there, under the scrutiny of all the Gryffindors currently in the common room. When a cry of "Bugger off and leave the poor girl alone!" echoed from a spot near the fireplace.
A boy charged forward, parting the crowd as he went. "I said, 'Bugger off!' Leave the poor girl in peace!" he shouted.
When the boy was fully satisfied that the crowd was no longer, overtly, at any rate, staring at Hermione, he grasped her hand and led her over to the couch where three more boys were sitting.
"Idiots, the lot of them," the boy rolled his eyes, "I'm James Potter, by the way." He stuck out his hand, and Hermione shook it, politely.
If Hermione had to pick one thing in her life she knew for a fact, it would, without a doubt, be that Harry took after his father. Here was the famed James Potter, the same height, the same build, the same everything, down to the little dimple on his left cheek, as his son. Of course, the startling green eyes, and the scar were missing, but from a distance, no one would be able to tell the two of them apart.
"And I, fair creature, am Sirius Black!" he swept down onto one knee and kissed the back of Hermione's hand, causing her heart, although she'd never admit it, to beat a few times faster.
There was no doubt about it, Hermione reasoned, standing at just over six feet tall, Sirius was definitely the most attractive of all the Marauders. His shoulder length black hair, sparkling blue eyes, and devilishly handsome smile practically exuded sexuality. His one flaw, of course, was that, and it was blatantly obvious to anyone, Sirius knew he was a sex god. He knew he caused a full one half (and sometimes more) of the Hogwart's population to have naughty dreams. It was present in every move he made, in the roguish smile with the dazzlingly white teeth; this boy knew he was the subject of every school girls' fantasy.
"I'm Peter Pettigrew," a mousy little boy squeaked, to which Hermione waved and fought to put a smile on her face.
Much shorter than the other two, Peter stood at 5'7", there was nothing very remarkable about him, his colourless hair and chubby build was nothing to write home about. He was, without a doubt, just plain ordinary.
The last boy leaned forward, "I'm Remus Lupin," he offered, "It's nice to meet you." He extended his hand, and immediately upon grasping it, Hermione felt a jolt of electricity flow through her, Remus, judging by his expression, felt the same thing.
Hermione surveyed him. He was an inch shorter than Sirius, and, while not as overtly attractive, was still nothing to sneeze at. His light brown hair was just long enough so that, when not paying attention, it fell into his amber eyes in such an adorable way, that Hermione's fingers were just itching to brush it away. His muscles had just enough definition to be noticeable, but not unattractively so.
A slight cough tore Hermione from her thoughts. With a start, she realized that she was still grasping Remus' hand. "Sorry," she whispered, reluctantly withdrawing it.
"And who, may I ask, are you?" Sirius questioned.
"Oh!" Hermione hadn't realized that she'd neglected to mention her own name, "I'm Hermione Granger, I'm…I'm new." She finished lamely.
James grinned at her, reminding her so much of Harry, "Well, we figured."
Sirius nodded his agreement then asked, "What year are you in?"
"Seventh," Hermione replied swiftly, "What about you?"
"We're in seventh year, too!" Sirius cried, and threw an arm over her shoulders.
Remus must have noticed Hermione's discomfort for he softly punched Sirius in the ribs, "Get off her, you great lug, can't you see she's uncomfortable?"
"Ow, geez Moony!" Sirius exclaimed, removing his arm only to achieve his goal of rubbing his sore ribs, "That really hurt, you know?"
"Okay, now's the time to play dumb," Hermione thought, and, putting a puzzled expression on her face, simply asked, "Moony?"
The four boys froze, none of them knowing what exactly to say, "I'm Moony," Remus finally piped up, "It's just a nickname they made up for me."
"That's an awfully strange nickname, where on earth did you come up with it?"
"Um…" faltered James, "Inside joke from second year!"
The boys all nodded enthusiastically.
"I see." Hermione acquiesced.
"Yeah, well, where did you come from?" Peter sneered.
Now was Hermione's turn to freeze. It was true Dumbledore told her to tell the students the truth, but now that it was time, Hermione wasn't sure it was the right idea. Would they freak out? Would they believe her? Well, here goes nothing…
"I'm from the future." Hermione replied simply.
A/N: Okay, so this wasn't the best chapter, I'm sorry! I have an audition tonight for "Beauty and the Beast" and am slightly worried about it. I'm aware that that's not an excuse, but at the moment, I really don't care. Thank you to those who reviewed! Please review to keep me writing, and my muse pumping out ideas!