Hermione sat back in her chair, hard, gaping at Dumbledore. Whatever reaction she'd anticipated, this was not it. She'd expected some degree of surprise, perhaps distrust, at her bizarre position; even the Dumbledore of her time had not been as all-knowing as this. This auburn-haired professor before her, far from looking surprised, was twinkling at her madly, and looked satisfied, though with what, Hermione was unsure.
Seeing her bewilderment, the professor reached into his bottom desk drawer and rifled through its contents momentarily. Cushioned in Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrappers was a ball as big as his palm. It was glass, with deep midnight blue smoke swirling inside of it. A thin line of silver lined it along its would-be equator, with faints runes etched across it.
Professor Dumbledore set it on the desk between them. "I daresay you know what this is," he said.
Hermione bit her lip and shook her head. She hated not knowing answers.
"No?" Dumbledore didn't looked very bothered. "Then we're both of us in the dark."
Again, Hermione wanted to laugh and cry, but instead she looked closer at the runes in an attempt to decipher them. "Well, it looks faintly like a Remembrall."
"And to me, it looks rather like a Momenta, used to record and store information or messages to yourself. It's ideal for privacy purposes, for only the one to record the message can replay it, or so it is in my time." He paused as Hermione registered this.
"I received this several months ago, already holding a recorded message. I was baffled, since I had not used this Momenta, but I ignited it anyway, and, to my surprise, a message replayed." Dumbledore smiled at her over his steepled fingers. "I suppose this is a future member of the Remebrall and Momenta family that can send secure messages intended for one only. The messenger knew things that know one else knows in this time. The messenger, I gather, will become a very good friend of mine." He grew pensive momentarily. "He also alerted me to your possible visit."
Hermione was already smiling wryly at him, feeling extremely grateful to Harry. "Thank goodness. I didn't know what I'd need to do to gain your trust," she said, frankly. One less problem to deal with; Professor Dumbledore was already on her side. "How much do you know, then?"
"Very little," Dumbledore admitted. "Just enough to know I should assist you to the best of my abilities, and trust you to carry out your mission yourself. I know I am not to be completely filled in. Any ideas I have about what you are up to are from my own current misgivings—I have been watching this castle carefully, my dear time-traveler, and, well, let me say I am glad you have finally come, just in time for this new school year. The seventh year class is… very interesting." His eyes were serious as he considered her.
She blinked at this subtle onslaught of information. Dumbledore had a very good inkling, and she was in the right year. Hermione nodded slowly, scratching her chin and wondering what her next actions should be. Suddenly, the magnitude of the mission almost overwhelmed her. Now that she knew she was in the right time and place, and with Dumbledore already prepared to help her, nothing remained but to begin. She rubbed her face tiredly. Her arm throbbed.
"If I could have your help in creating a strong background, that would be great," Hermione began. "We need some good excuses for my lack of connections to the outside world."
She looked up at Dumbledore, squinting. "I don't want to give anything away, but… you've been having some trouble with a Dark wizard…."
"Which has all just been taken care of," Dumbledore supplied promptly. "That reign of terror ended just this past spring."
"Honestly, I know more about it from the Muggle aspect than the wizarding, but could my parents have been involved in the war effort?"
"I can do better than create parents for you—how about we adopt people who actually existed?" Dumbledore offered.
Hermione frowned. "This is supposed to be secret, professor. I can't afford to bring anyone else into my confidence…."
"These people are deceased, don't worry. There was a couple, the Hales, who were fairly obscure to almost everyone. They were good friends of mine—I knew them better than anyone still living. With the right documentation and my verification, you could claim to be their only child."
"Oh—I see," said Hermione brokenly. "That sounds like a fine idea, yes."
"If you feel you need a legal guardian, I would certainly help you there," Dumbledore went on, hesitantly.
Hermione interrupted. "No—thank you, but I think it would be better if I didn't have any close ties to anyone, especially you, sir." That sounded rude to her ears, but if he truly had guessed her target, then he would understand.
Dumbledore nodded, and took out a parchment and quill. "Good, good. I will settle documentation about your parentage and inheritance—very modest, I'm afraid, but you can, of course, ask me for financial aid should you need it. He made a small list in emerald green ink and handwriting that Hermione recognized. "Your first name?"
"Hermione."
"Hermione Hale, then, very nice." He noted this next to his note about parentage.
Hermione Hale. It sounded so foreign to her ears. She closed her eyes. Her arm…
"On to schooling, then…?" Dumbledore's voice followed the scritch-scratching of his quill.
Hermione's eyes snapped open, and she tapped her fingers on the desk. "I suppose it would make most sense to have attended boarding school in America. I know some French, but not enough to have attended Beauxbaton, should my speaking abilities be tested at some point. It would also have been logical for my parents to send me to America for school for safety reasons, especially if they were very involved against Grindelwald."
"I could arrange that. Salem is one of the biggest institutes in the world—even the staff wouldn't notice an extra name added in the last year's roster." He added this to his list.
"Sir, I've just finished school in my time, but should I repeat my seventh year for appearance?"
To her surprise, Dumbledore didn't nod, but seemed rather hesitant to agree. "Hogwarts has rarely taken transfer students. It could be suspicious in itself, and—well, I think you want to be as unsuspicious as possible." He raised his eyebrow slightly. "It would be much more natural for you to be here for post-graduation learning, given our very talented faculty. Not to mention the reputation it would give you as intelligent and academic—admirable traits." His gaze locked onto hers.
Hermione felt like Dumbledore was talking in code to her, trying to tell her something about her target. Leave it to Dumbledore to not just say things outright. Hermione bit back a frustrated sigh as she broke his gaze, thinking over his words.
So her target would be suspicious of her sudden appearance in the school, perhaps he was naturally suspicious to begin with? That would definitely make sense. He admired intelligence, pursuit of knowledge, etc.? How Ravenclaw. Meeting Dumbledore's eyes again, she nodded slowly.
"Perhaps I could do some post-graduate research? I will come up with a project," she said. It would be tricky to find something she knew about without changing the future an undue amount. She'd consider that later. "Great. All that remains, that I can see, is to notify the Headmaster…"
"I will take care of that. I can show you to your room, now, if you like. You look done in. You should rest before dinner."
"Thank you…" She gave in to her aching arm and peeled her sleeve off of her wound, wincing. The cloth stuck to parts of it, tearing away some dried scab. "If I could have a healing potion, that would be fantastic…."
AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! Can anyone figure out where I got Hermione's new last name? Sorry if this was a little dry, but this chapter, the laying down her identity, was kind of necessary. Warning: updates won't be this fast. We kind of had these three chapters in mind before we posted the story at all, so they were easier to write. Thanks for reading! Please review! -Loony Ferret