A/N: A great big thanks to everyone who read the first chapter! Less than 24 hours and I've already gone over 45 hits! That's more than all the other stories I've written combined (and they've been up for years)! I wanted to post this next chapter early just to get the ball rolling, but I'd also really love to know what you all think of the story so far, and if anyone has any suggestions for things to go awry, write those in. If I like the idea, I might just add it in (proper credit given, of course)! Happy reading!

WEEK 2

Hermione couldn't explain it, and there was very little she couldn't explain. Unless… Could that horrible week have all been in her head? Just a dream? But if that was the case then maybe Trelawny was wrong, maybe she did have the Sight. It was the only way she could explain away this feeling of de ja vou that kept popping up every ten seconds. After all, how else could she have known that right after Neville announced that he was done with lunch and got up he would step too far back, causing the bench with Ron and Draco, and their plates, to topple over backwards. And she laughed just as hard as the last time it happened when Draco pushed himself up only to reveal a face full of mashed potatoes.

After lunch had finished each student went their separate ways, the looming deadline first in everybody's mind except Hermione's. All she could think about as she walked to the store room on the ninth floor was the repeated week. By now she was fully convinced that she simply hadn't dreamt up the events of an entire week, but why it was repeating was the missing answer that continued to haunt her mind as she finally reached the massive closet.

She turned the knob and pulled hard on the massive door to reveal rows and rows of short and long handled brooms, boxes of rags, and every sort of cleaning utensil imaginable. She had discovered it during her sixth year when she'd followed a house elf around for the day to see just what kind of conditions they were working under. While she hadn't found any incriminating evidence of tortured house elves in the dungeons, she had found the supply room for the house elves and they'd been only too happy to allow her the use of any and however much of the equipment she desired. Of course, she hadn't told them why she continually needed the materials. They were very protective of their role as servants and any talk of freedom sent them into a frenzy of nervousness that Hermione found too annoying to bear.

As she began the walk back to the dorms she thought about everything that was supposed to occur this week. Maybe she was meant to change something. Something must have happened last time that needed to go differently. She stopped dead in her tracks and would have smacked her head had her hands not been filled. Of course! How could she have been so stupid and not seen it before! Something that went wrong last week that needed to be righted! That had to be it! She was being given a second chance!

"I knew I was meant to be Head Girl! Now I've got the chance I need to finish my project, and this time I will finish it! No interruptions!"

She walked up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, her mind filled with thoughts of everything that still needed to be done for her project, but before she utter the password the painting swung open on its own to reveal Ron behind it. Both took a startled step back before Ron came forward, arms stretched out.

"Hey! I was just looking for you. Lemme help you with this stuff, and I need to talk to you if that's alright."

"Actually Ron," Hermione said as she side stepped her friend and sped her pace up a bit, "I've got a lot to do right now, but maybe later, okay? Great, see you, bye!"

She leaned against the door and took a deep breath before setting everything down next to her already eyebrow raising pile of things and locked the door.

Sorry Ron, but I've got more important things to deal with right now.

It took a total of four days for Hermione to complete her project, taking extra care with every detail. Not only would she turn her project in, she'd make sure that it was the best Charms project ever submitted. It had taken attempt after failed attempt, but she'd finally worked out the kinks. And not only had she finished earlier than planned, she'd used the extra time to go a step further than she'd originally planned. A simple "abstergo" followed by a proper flick of the wand and the broom, mop, rag, etc. in question began its chore of cleaning up the area it was placed on.

The rags would wipe any surface it was placed on clean of stray liquids without falling off the edge of the table (a particularly difficult aspect to pull off). The brooms would sweep as much of the floor as possible without knocking over tables or chairs and would deposit all dirt in one area that the morning house elves could clean up in a flash. This was followed by the mop, which was assigned to the obvious task of a more thorough cleaning of the floor. When the task at hand was finished the cleaning devices would simply return to their places until the time when they'd be used next.

Though it would not eradicate the need for house elves altogether, it would significantly reduce the number needed each night in Hogwarts' daily maintenance and was simply the first stone in the foundation for a possible expansion of ideas. Already Hermione was pondering other ways to further reduce the need for house elves. She could almost see the Minister handing her a medal for her work on house elf liberation. Or even better, her own Chocolate Frog Card.

She did a happy jig as she descended the stairs, project in hand and determined to hand it in as early as possible, and passed Ron and Lavender in the common room. Both looked at her as if the four days she'd locked herself away had done something to her head. Hermione simply smiled at them and continued on to Professor Flitwick's classroom, where she found him seated upon a rather unsturdy looking pile of books going through what seemed to be a lesson plan for the coming year.

It was another thirty minutes before Hermione emerged, her bag now emptied of her project, leaving a rather impressed-looking Flitwick in her wake. Her whole body exuded the confidence she felt inside that she was now going to be Head Girl. She was deciding just where her badge would look nicest, on the right side or the left, when she turned the corner and bumped right into Malfoy, causing him to drop the cloth-wrapped something he was carrying. Following their mutual oomphs was the sickening sound of breaking glass and the cloth now crumpled on the floor began to smoke slightly as whatever liquid has been concealed within the glass soaked through it.

Malfoy's eyes widened at the sight and abruptly narrowed into a menacing glare as he rounded on Hermione.

"What the hell do you think you're doing! That was my Potions project!"

Hermione scrambled to her feet, an apology on her lips, but Draco had already begun to storm off.

"I suppose I should feel a little bit happy. Stupid weasel deserved it." But somewhere in the back of her mind she felt a twinge of guilt and the rest of her mind could only wonder what would come of this.

The next day Hermione decided she would head to the library. Now that she'd turned in her Charms work she had a good amount of free time on her hands, and what better way to spend it than by preparing for the challenges that would be present in the upcoming year. One more year, and then it was over. No more Hogwarts, no more weekends spent studying for tests three weeks in advance under the trees outside. She still wasn't sure what would happen with Harry or Ron, if the three of them would still keep in touch afterwards. She had a bad feeling that after she broke the news to Ron that she wasn't interested in him that way he'd never want to speak to her again. Boys were strange that way.

These thoughts occupied her mind until she walked through the large double-doors and the welcome smell of books filled her nose. She would miss this place the most. She walked past the empty desk where Madam Pince normally sat, her ears able to pick up even the faintest of too loud a whisper. As she wandered aimlessly down the aisles she spotted a slumped over figure at one of the desks, numerous tomes surrounding them.

She leaned over one stack of books to fine Ernie sleeping soundly, his nose buried in the spine of a book so old it looked as it the pages might disintegrate at any moment. Next to him was a long piece of parchment, filled with small notes, lengthy passages, and sprinkled with a few quotes. She couldn't resist the urge at taking a closer look so she carefully lifted it from the table and hid on the other side of the books so she wouldn't be caught. If anyone asked she'd simply picked it up off the floor.

As she read through the shorter bits and skimmed over the lengthier parts she shook her head in disbelief. This was his project? This thing was going to nail Head Boy for him? Even Ron could have written something better than this! So why was Ernie the one getting the badge?

It was a thought that stuck in her mind for the rest of the day and well through dinner. But as she wearily crossed another day off of her calendar and climbed into bed that night all she could think about was looking through Lavender's mirror the next morning and being able to see her own face.

Saturday morning she walked down to the Great Hall, an extra bounce in each step. The others were just as they'd been last Saturday, with Lavender's mirror completed and out in the open. Hermione was in such a good mood that she wasn't bothered by Malfoy's presence, though it took an extra large 'good morning' to help her not notice the angry look he was sending her and the familiar twinge of guilt that followed. She walked up just as Lavender finished her sentence about Trelawny's lengthy praise.

"Hey Lavender, is that your Divination project?"

"Oh, morning Hermione. Yeah it is."

"Mind if I take a look?"

Lavender, Neville, and Ron looked at her as if she had a screw loose. They'd all been present the day she'd told off Trelawny and stormed out of the classroom and were now unsure what to make of her sudden willingness to try out something Divination related.

"Er, sure, go ahead."

"Alright mirror, show me who Head Girl is going to be."

Though her face was calm and confident, her knuckles were white as the gripped the stem of the mirror. And soon after her face turned just as white as Lavender's face stared back at her for the second time.

No, no it wasn't right! It had to wrong! She'd done what she needed to do! Her project was done; she'd turned it in early even! She was supposed to be Head Girl now! Why was this stupid mirror lying to her!

She let the mirror drop back to the table and quickly excused herself amidst the familiar concerns and questions.

Back in her room she locked the door behind her and fell onto the mattress, burying herself under the pillows and blankets. She stayed that way until morning, but the locked door did not allow Ron to enter. It didn't matter. She already knew what he would say, and so she stayed where she was, looking up only once to look over at her calendar. She picked her wand out of the pocket of the robes she had worn the day before and made two small X's where she hadn't crossed off the previous two nights, and then promptly went back to sleep.

The sound of hooting owls woke her again on Monday. She rolled over to help herself out of bed and almost fell over when she realized one of her legs was still asleep. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked over at her calendar, preparing her wand to cross off the miserable Sunday that had just passed. And, for the second time, found that her calendar read a week earlier than it should be.