A/N: Responses to my reviewers:
encantada - Trelawney is a hard character to write because it is my belief that only Jo can write her, though I do love Trelawney for her drunkness and hilarity that she puts forth in the books. She's a priceless character as many of the others are, but I really like her. She will play a good role in this one, though. I see you've caught something already... quite the reader you are. That's exactly right, those who make the prophecies don't remember them... but the one they are made to does remember them. And how would McGonagall know that? She doesn't believe in the art of Divination, she just got wind of a prophecy Trelawney had been talking about and assumed that she made it. So, let's see how much you can piece together now until we get to about chapter 8 and then we'll go from there. I believe that you deserve brownie points for picking out that ploy in the plot... you were the only one. Congratulations! I hope you are okay with everything now and that my story is getting better from your prespective.
zafr0 - Yes, you will see changes in the future in coming chapters as Hermione makes more drastic actions in the past. You see, Hermione was sent back into time unexpectedly and without knowledge that she would go back... so in a sense, this is new to her. She didn't know she would go back, no one did. Now, when Hermione goes back in time, yes, she does inform Dumbledore of his death in the future. And I bet you're wondering 'So, why wouldn't he just steer clear of Snape and save himself?' Welp, you're going to have to wait to find that out... but I promise I will explain it.
mrs skywalker - Yes, I felt that a bit of comic relief was in order. Glad you enjoyed it and thank you for your review.
Thank you to Mrs Pierre Bouvier, 404, vla1diva, and Psycho Demon-Witch
Now, on with the chapter...
Chapter 4 – A Secret Out of Respect
"I uh- I don't kn-," she was in more trouble now than she could have ever imagined.
She herself didn't know what to say. She knew she could trust Dumbledore by the concerned look in his eyes. Yet it scared her that he didn't seem to know who she was. She needed to bide herself some time until she could answer these questions.
"I don't know. I can't remember what happened," Hermione answered.
She felt like she was lying, but then again, it was truthful. She really didn't know what had happened, though she knew her name and everything.
"You mean to say you don't know who you are?"
"Y-," Hermione paused as something popped into her head.
'Would they give me Veritaserum if they didn't believe me? Act really stupid and play it up, Hermione' she coached herself.
"Yes," Hermione sighed as she bowed her head. "All I can remember is intense pain."
"I believe she may have amnesia," whispered Eona to Dumbledore.
He nodded and yet, the whole time, he eyed Hermione suspiciously. She wouldn't have minded this because she wanted to tell Dumbledore. She believed he could help, but the boy was also staring at her with disbelief. He was glaring at her as though ready to leap forward and dump Veritaserum down her throat.
"I think she should-"
"Come with me," Dumbledore cut in on Eona.
"But she's obviously got amne-"
"A lot to get sorted out and I intend to help her," Dumbledore interrupted again.
"But you cannot take her out of the hospital wing in this condition," Eona tried to reason as she became angry with the Deputy Headmaster.
"I will only have her out a short whi-"
"Now, you listen here, Albus," Eona snarled. Hermione was taken aback at how grouchy the motherly woman could be. Then she suddenly thought of someone. Mrs. Weasley.
A smile crossed Hermione's face as she thought about this woman and got a dreamy sheen in her eyes. But she soon wiped her face neutral because the dark haired boy was staring at her with narrowed eyes now as though trying to figure out what she was happy about.
"Eona, I really don't want to have to do this, but I believe I hold authority over you and when I say she needs to come with me, that's the final word," Dumbledore sighed grimly.
"Not if I go to Armando," Eona roared.
"Please, there is no need for this," Dumbledore pleaded reasonably.
"Really! No need is right! Just do as I say and leave so that the girl can get some rest, and then when she is feeling better, you may take her to your office and question her," Eona snapped.
"Stop!" Everyone turned to look at Hermione as she sat there on the bed. "I feel fine so I will go with him," Hermione intoned as she thought about getting away from the boy's calculating gaze. At Hermione's words, Eona opened her mouth to protest, but Hermione cut her off. "But I will come straight back here right after."
"Very good," Dumbledore beamed at her. "Just come with me." As they were leaving, Hermione following Dumbledore and the dark haired boy, she heard Eona complaining.
"A medical degree means nothing nowadays. Everyone thinks they know everything," she grouched as she went back into her office.
"Are you sure you're feeling well enough? We can go back in there and talk if you like," Dumbledore offered.
'Now, why couldn't he have said that earlier and made things easier' Hermione pondered in frustration.
"No, I'm fine... I'll make it," she said politely.
"All right, then. Tom, would you be so kind as to go to Headmaster Dippet and tell him that I need a word with him?"
"Certainly, Professor," Tom, the dark haired boy with them, replied.
So Tom was his name. But that still didn't answer Hermione's question as to why he was there with Dumbledore when she woke up. He had been the one to save her though, or had he?
"Did you say his name was Tom?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said as they started down a staircase.
"The Tom that saved me when I was in the hall?"
"The same," Dumbledore smiled as they started down the next set of stairs.
Hermione became silent. She was contemplating on whether or not to tell Dumbledore the truth as to why she was there, and if he would believe her if she did. She didn't have anything to loose, except maybe her freedom because they would more than likely lock her in a psycho ward in St. Mungo's after she told him. But then again, Dumbledore had believed Harry, Ron, and her when they pleaded Sirius's case of innocence in her third year. He had also believed Harry on countless things, countless times.
She had made up her mind. She would tell him, whether he believed her or not, she would risk it. He would just have to believe her. How could he not? She was a reasonable girl. 'Who just played someone who has no memory of what happened because of amnesia... and not to mention you got out of the hospital!'
"Is something wrong?"
Hermione looked up at Dumbledore as he looked down upon her in a knowing way. He was as wise now as he was before this incident and she couldn't help but feel safe though she didn't know what was going on. There was something settling about his company that she couldn't place.
"I was just wondering if I could confide something in you?"
"Certainly... just as soon as we reach my office, you can tell me anything that you would like," Dumbledore assured her as they turned off the stairs and started down the second floor corridor.
Hermione was quiet until they reached his office. She recognized the room as what used to be McGonagall's before she became Headmistress, but she didn't understand why Dumbledore was calling it his office.
"Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?" Dumbledore gestured to a chair that sat before his desk, and Hermione nervously took it.
"Well, first you must promise that no matter what I tell you from here on out, you won't think I'm crazy," Hermione demanded lightly.
"You have my word, but before you begin, let's establish some names. Please, if you don't mind," Dumbledore requested. Hermione was slightly stunned by his straight forwardness in asking her name. So he hadn't believed her back in the hospital wing. Fooling people would be harder than she thought.
"My name is Hermione Jane Granger."
"All right, Hermione Granger. What is it that you would like to tell me?"
"How about I start by answering the question you asked me in the hospital wing?" Dumbledore said nothing as he nodded and let her continue. "I'm not quite sure how I got here. I was out on the grounds by the lake," Hermione said as she pointed to the lake out of the window behind Dumbledore. "I was with my friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, when Professor Flitwick came out and said that Headmistress McGonagall would like to see me." Hermione stopped here as his brow furrowed.
"McGonagall? As in Minerva McGonagall?" he questioned.
"One in the same," Hermione answered.
"I see," Dumbledore sighed thoughtfully as he put his elbows upon the desk and then put his fingertips together. "And who is this Professor Flitwick?"
"Well, he's a short man who teaches Charms. He's Deputy Headmaster," Hermione replied. She couldn't understand why Dumbledore didn't know the people he hired to work as teachers at the school. "It's the 1997 and Minerva McGonagall has been Headmistress since the end of last year, 1996, when you were-"
Hermione stopped here as she realized she was about to tell a man about his murder in the future. Would he think her crazy? Would he think she was threatening him? 'Of course not' Hermione told herself in a laughing manner. 'This is Dumbledore!'
"Well, you were murdered by a man named Severus Snape. He was once a Death Eater in service to the Dark Lord Voldemort, but then he said he wanted to change. So you hired him as the Potions master, but he was still a spy for Voldemort and he killed you one night on the Astronomy Tower when you and Harry were coming ba-"
"Miss Granger, please!" Dumbledore stopped Hermione as she began to get a bit hysterical. She had gotten carried away and as she took a deep breath and stared down at her feet, Dumbledore sighed and sat back in his chair. "I'm sorry to inform you, but this is not 1997. This is 1944 and I am Deputy Headmaster. Not to mention the fact that Minerva McGonagall just graduated Hogwarts two years ago as Head Girl."
Hermione's jaw dropped and her eyes bugged out of her head as the words '1944' echoed in her head. Was she really fifty-three years in the past? Her heart felt as though it was going to stop. Was this some sort of cruel joke? 'No' she denied mentally. 'This is Dumbledore... he wouldn't do that.'
"You- you mean I've been transported through time?"
"I don't know, have you? I'd actually like you to finish explaining your story to me," Dumbledore said calmly.
"Fine," Hermione sighed distraughtly. "Flitwick told me that McGonagall – as I knew her – wanted to speak with me. I went up to her office, the Headmistress's office, but she wasn't there. I decided to wait and as I did, I went to pet Fawkes, your pet phoenix – who returned to her so now I guess it's hers," she babbled. Dumbledore chuckled as she stopped and realized that she was rambling.
"Continue, please?" he urged.
"Okay. But anyways... as I did, I knocked this silver- thing off your desk and it broke... or rather moved."
Dumbledore nodded as Hermione paused here and she sighed as she tried to remember what exactly had happened.
"Then I got worried about doing something wrong, so I tried to put it back the way it was. I moved the knobs and dials and switches all back to where they were, but when I did... time seemed to- to freeze," Hermione explained in uncertainty.
"I see," Dumbledore said quietly.
"I mean, the bird, Fawkes, was stuck like- like this," Hermione spread her arms to full width as she demonstrated Fawkes's stuck position. Dumbledore said nothing as he nodded yet again, his eyes twinkling as though he was holding back a laugh at her crazy antics.
This angered Hermione that he would laugh at her distraught situation. Her anger raised her voice a few octaves, and she began to flail her arms about.
"And then something happened. I was in extreme pain... do you hear me? EXTREME pain! Do you have any idea what I'm going through! Was going through?"
"No, not exactly," Dumbledore replied softly. "But I can say that many would call you eccentric at this point, though – I, myself – cannot." Hermione's eyebrows shot up to the middle of her forehead, she was shocked. He had actually believed her.
"You can't?" Hermione asked uncertainly.
"No, Miss Granger, I can't. You've stated things that even my young apprentice, Hagrid, wouldn't know. Not many know my phoenix's name, let alone that I have one. The fact that you didn't know Minerva had graduated here just a bit ago made a bit of difference, too," Dumbledore stated.
"So you believe me? What about that thing on your desk?" Hermione inquired as she looked around the room for the instrument, but she couldn't find it.
"I believe I know the instrument you are talking about, but they are extremely rare and I know of only one person who has one. That would be my friend and co-worker on many things and experiments, Nicholas Flamel," Dumbledore explained. "And it's only by happenstance that he has one."
"Yes, yes," Hermione groaned. She was in no mood for a trip down history lane. "Nicholas Flamel is a good friend of yours who is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone which he and his wife use to gain immortality and I'm guessing right now, that he would be about... oh, six-hundred and eighteen years old." Dumbledore stared at her in a slightly wide-eyed way.
"Miss Granger, the more you tell me, the more I believe you. Mr. Flamel doesn't confide in many about his creation and use of the Philosopher's Stone. Tell me, then, how is it you plan to get back since you know so much?"
Hermione instantly regretted her smart ways.
"Um, well- I uh- I was hoping that you could help me with that," Hermione mumbled.
Dumbledore sat up, his elbows on the desk once more with his fingertips together. He peered over his hands as he smiled at her, his eyes twinkling in a soothing way. She frowned though as she realized that she was rude to her only friend at the moment.
"I'm sorr-"
"Don't be. I will help you... I have no choice but to help. Now, what we must figure out is a few things about time travel. You see, the instrument that sent you back to this time is not for long journeys like that, and besides, even if it were, you couldn't use it to get home," Dumbledore said.
"Why not?"
"Flamel's instrument is broken at the moment. He's trying his best to fix it, but it seems that returning the tool to its proper state is harder than he thought because he is missing a part," Dumbledore replied.
"You mean he just needs a part for it? Why doesn't he go out and buy one instead of waiting for another one?" Hermione sighed in frustration.
"I'm afraid he can't do that. The part is no longer in manufacturing because of the power it takes to make one. But let's not give up on all hope that Mr. Flamel can help. He's a great alchemist, but he's been alive for quite a bit of time as you've stated. I'm sure he can give us some help," Dumbledore assured her.
"I hope so," Hermione sighed. "But what am I do to while I'm waiting?"
"I suppose, since you know so much about this place and the things in it already, that you will just have to enroll as a student. What year would you be in in your time?"
"Seventh," Hermione answered.
"Then you'll be in that year here as well. Let's just say that the Sorting Hat put you in the same house, which would be?"
"Gryffindor."
"Ah, very good indeed, that's my house!" Dumbledore exclaimed. Hermione smiled, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. "Now, what classes would you have been taking in your seventh year?"
"Advanced Potions, Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Charms, Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arthimancy, Ancient Runes, History of Magic, Muggle Studies, and Astronomy," Hermione stated as she counted the classes off on her fingers. "My last class being my free period... making ten in all."
"You shall have those same classes now, then," Dumbledore pronounced. "But... I think we would be safe to make up a new identity for you, am I not right?" Hermione nodded and waited, but he said nothing.
"How about Alice?" Hermione smiled as she watched Dumbledore nod at the name. It had been the name of her favorite doll when she was little, a doll that had belonged to her grandmother.
"And for a last name?"
"I think I'll stick with Granger. It's not a very common last name in the wizarding world, so there's no one to trace me to," Hermione reasoned.
"Good idea," Dumbledore merited. "Now, as for your books... I don't believe that Hogsmeade has the books you need, so I believe a little transfiguration is in order." Dumbledore pulled out his wand and a pair of old tattered notebooks. He laid the notebooks upon the desk and tapped them three times with his wand before they turned into Hermione's school books. The books weren't brand new, in fact, they were just as tatty as the notebooks had been, but still good enough for her.
"Thank you," Hermione said as she gathered the books in her arms.
"Oh, Miss Granger... I believe you will be needing some clothes. You may go – leave those books here – and come with me," Dumbledore said as he walked around the desk and took the books from her. He dropped them on a stool which wobbled with a threat of falling over, but it remained standing as Dumbledore ushered her out of the office.
"Where are we going?" Hermione implored.
"To see Headmaster Dippet about getting you some clothes," Dumbledore responded.
"Oh, you aren't going to tell him about all this, are you?" Hermione's voice was panicked and shaky as she asked this.
"No, of course not. All he need know is that you are a new student," Dumbledore whispered as they entered the corridor and headed for Dippet's office. "I don't know why he didn't come down to my office in the first place... I sent Tom after him."
"This Tom, is he as nice as Eona said he is? I mean I would like very much to thank him for his greatly appreciated help," Hermione explained as Dumbledore stopped and looked at her with a wisened concern.
"I'm afraid, Miss Granger, that Tom isn't exactly what you've been informed of. He's quite the deceiver... he can be charming and witty, your best friend at one moment, and then devious, rude, and cutting the next... your worst enemy," Dumbledore warned.
Something in Hermione's head went off as he said this, sort of a red beacon that told her something was amiss. She began to feel uncomfortable and sick to her stomach all at once. Shivers went up her back as she realized she had to ask Dumbledore something of extreme importance.
"What- what's Tom's last name?" Hermione had a sneakingly fearful suspicion that she already knew it, but she really wanted Dumbledore to tell her differently.
"Riddle... Why?"
Hermione's jaw dropped. Tom Riddle, the same man who would grow to hate her for what she was, a Muggle-born, had saved her. How ironic and unusual was that?
"Miss Granger? What's the matter?"
"I think it best that we have another talk right after we visit Headmaster Dippet," Hermione muttered as she stared ahead as though in a trance.
"All right, then. Let's get moving so that we can talk," Dumbledore said as he began to lead the way again to Dippet's office. They entered the office which Hermione knew to be McGonagall's in her day, and they found the Headmaster writing some letters.
"Ah, Albus," Dippet greeted as he looked up and saw his Deputy Headmaster.
"Armando," Dumbledore greeted back. "Miss Granger here would like to enroll in Hogwarts. She has all her books, though she needs a cauldron and some quills."
"She'll need to be sorted," Dippet added.
"Very well," Dumbledore said as he walked over and took the Sorting Hat off its shelf. "Just tell the hat you want to be in Gryffindor," Dumbledore whispered as he put the hat on her head.
"Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor," Hermione kept mumbling so only she and the hat could hear.
"Gryffindor, eh? If that's where you want to be... keep in mind that you must be brave for that roll," the hat growled in a low tone. There was a moment's pause as Hermione thought about her bravery against Voldemort the many times she helped Harry face him.
"I know I'm brave enough," Hermione assured the hat, and herself for that matter. "You've already proved that by putting me there in my time."
"Well, then let's not mess with my better judgment, then. Have a nice time in Gryffindor, Miss Granger of the Future," the hat sighed. "GRYFFINDOR IT IS!"
"Congratulations," said someone from the doorway. Hermione looked up in shock as Dumbledore took the hat from her.
"Tom," Dumbledore began. "Where have you been? I sent you to Headmaster Dippet's office a while ago."
"I had to take care of a student who was causing trouble," Tom stated simply. Dumbledore said nothing as he looked to Hermione who was standing next to him now pale as a ghost.
"Armando," Dumbledore said, breaking the silence in the room. "I believe it best that I go with Miss Granger to the village and get her her supplies."
"Ah, yes, yes! Very well, then," Dippet chattered. "Would you like Tom to accompany you?"
"NO!" Hermione spat quickly causing everyone to turn to Hermione who smiled broadly in a nervous manner before Dumbledore nodded to Dippet and ushered her from the office. As she left, she noticed Tom glaring at her with his penetrating green eyes which made her recoil a bit. She ran to keep in close distance with Dumbledore, practically riding on his back on the way down the stairs from Dippet's office.