Chapter 14

An Unremarkable Transfer

Hermione awoke from a nightmare.

She had seen Severus lying dead on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. This time, she was frozen, unable to move her arms or legs as she watched him slowly bleed to death on the floor. She tried to scream, but no sound issued forth from her mouth. She began to cry, but no tears came.

This is when she realized it was only a dream.

As she slowly opened her eyes, the room blurred into focus. She shifted.

She still couldn't move her arms and legs.

"Ah, here we are. Awake, then?"

Slowly, the figure of Albus Dumbledore became more solid, the fuzzy shapes in her vision colliding quickly into defined objects. Hermione looked around and saw she was in again in the Headmaster's office. Looking back at Dumbledore, she noticed he looked much the same, only his beard held more silver and grey than the white she remembered.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

"That won't work for now. You have been silenced and restrained until we can verify your identity." He said this in a lighthearted manner, but she was sure he was cold and calculating as ever. "There is a war going on, after all, and we aren't quite sure who we can trust."

Dumbledore peered down at her through his half-moon spectacles. She looked down and realized that she was bound to the chair she was sitting in.

"Now that you are awake, I can request the veritaserum from Professor…" He trailed off as Hermione shook her head violently, silently mouthing 'NO!'

"I understand your distress, but I have never seen you before and I can only be too careful." The younger Dumbledore cocked his head as Hermione continued to struggle vehemently against her bonds. He hesitated for a moment, attempting to evaluate the situation correctly. When silent tears began to stream down her face, he became stoic.

"Very well, Miss. You've piqued my curiosity." Dumbledore lifted his hand, and reached into the pocket of his deep purple robes, pulling out his wand. He raised his hand and pointed the wand at her. "I will remove the silencing spell, but be warned," his voice became quiet and deadly, "if you so much as attempt to perform any magic, I will not hesitate to do what is necessary to protect the school."

Hermione nodded slowly, showing by her change in demeanor that she had calmed down. Albus Dumbledore lifted the spell and she sighed in relief.

"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I will do my best to cooperate, but I cannot allow veritaserum. I have used a Time-Turner to travel here from the future, and I can't disclose everything that will happen for the next 20 years."

"20 years?" Dumbledore said, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head curiously. The wand remained pointed at her.

"Yes, sir." She said. "It is you who sent me."

"That remains to be verified. I would not put it past the man styling himself as the next great dark wizard to send a spy among our midst, dressed in Gryffindor colours, no less." He continued to hold the wand up, aimed at her face. "What is your name?"

The words spilled from her lips before she could think. "Anna. Anna Perri." It was strange to say a different name than her own, but as a relative's name, it was familiar enough for her psyche to recognize it as friendly. Anna Perri, Anna Helene Perri, Anna Perri, Anna Helene Perri, she repeated in her head, needing to get used to calling herself this.

"Don't tell me you're lying already?" The tone was cordial, amused, but the blue eyes turned icy.

Hermione hesitated, but shook her head slowly 'no'.

Dumbledore backed slowly towards his desk and around it, still training his wand on her. "Accio," he said quietly. A large book flew from the nearest bookshelf, landing softly on his desk. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at Hermione and pointed his free hand at the book. "Anna Perri," he stated for the book. It glowed yellow-gold before flipping open of its own accord, pages flying rapidly until it landed on the appropriate one.

Dumbledore's eyes glanced down at the page, searching. They stopped moving, and trained on a particular spot in the lower right corner of the open page that she couldn't see.

He frowned.

"Anna Perri," he said again. The pages didn't move. Dumbledore looked up at Hermione, still frowning. Slowly, he lowered his wand. He said something else quietly, too quietly for Hermione to pick up. The pages did not turn, and he seemed even more confused by this. He set his wand down on the desk, licked the tip of his finger and began to manually turn the pages of the very large tome forward through the alphabet. He became visibly frustrated, almost concerned-looking. After a few minutes, he turned back to look at Hermione.

"Miss… Perri… or is it Granger, I wonder. Let me enlighten you. The Book of Names contains basic information for all Hogwarts students. Full name, date of birth, Hogwarts House and Class year, parent or guardian contact information… In short, everything that I might need to contact a prospective student or their family." He pointed back to the book. "Under your name, it lists Anna H. Perri, Class of 1978. That is all. There is no middle name, no date of birth, no Hogwarts house. I am at quite a loss. And here, at the bottom, it says, 'for more information, see entry under H. J. Granger.' Yet, there is no H. J. Granger listed in the book." He looked up at her quizzically.

"Oh, I… I think it's because… Well, I haven't been born yet, sir. Yes, my name is Granger, but for now it should be Anna Perri, since H. J. Granger has not been born yet. "

Dumbledore stroked his beard, thoughtfully. "I do suppose that would verify your story."

Hermione nodded. "Of course, sir."

"I haven't finished." His blue eyes met her. He was no longer pointing his wand at her, but he didn't quite trust her yet either, apparently. "It verifies your story about the time travel, however, it shows nothing for your motives behind doing so. Perhaps Voldemort is still around in 20 years, or there is a new foe to deal with. How am I to know that it was I who sent you? How am I assured of your motives?"

Hermione remained silent. It was a good question, and it was somewhat ridiculous of a 20-years-older Dumbledore to not give her more help with this part. You know, a signed note from his future self? Information only he would know-

"Voldemort's birth name was Tom Riddle." She said quietly, looking back at him confidently. "He was raised in an orphanage and he used to steal things from the other children… You were the one who came to tell him he had magic."

Dumbledore's eyes widened and he came around from behind his desk. "Miss Perri," He said quietly. "That is certainly a good start, however…" His eyes flashed dangerously. "Other than myself, Lord Voldemort knows that information. Now there is no middle road. Either I can trust you with my life, or I must kill you now."

Hermione's eyes widened. She thought quickly. What, what, what did she know about Dumbledore from 20 years or more previous?

Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it at her. "I am sorry, but I must protect the school at all-"

"Wait!" She cried. "Wait, wait, I know something." She took a breath. "Fifty some years- no. No. Thirty some years ago, the Chamber of Secrets was opened, and a student died."

Dumbledore lowered his wand. "I'm listening."

She took a deep breath and continued. "Hagrid was blamed for her death. He was raising a creature he shouldn't have been and… he was caught. He was expelled for it and there were no more attacks."

"And?"

"He was innocent. He is innocent." She took another deep breath, and pleadingly entreated him. "You knew it, sir. I'm telling you that the person you suspected of being the real culprit was in fact, the real culprit."

"And whom did I suspect?"

"The same Tom Riddle, of course."

"Again, Perri! Again, this can be verified by Voldemort. Again, this is not particular to myself!" The wizard was becoming irritated. He looked as if he did want to believe her, maybe he did believe her, but he couldn't allow himself to bend to such a temptation.

"Why would he tell me so many of his secrets? I know these things because you… you in the future ensured that I would know them. I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know that much about you particularly. I know about Voldemort because he…" she trailed off, not wanting to say too much about the future threat he still posed. "Because he's a historic figure. You haven't been as open about yourself."

Dumbledore was silent, thinking this over. It was logical, that he wouldn't be so open about himself and his own history with a student.

"Tell me why you are here. Why did I send you back 20 years?"

"To… to protect some Gryffindors."

His eyes narrowed. "That is extremely vague."

"I'm sorry! I just don't want to tell you too much… I'm here to…" She gulped. When she next opened her mouth, the magical, time-altering drug of fate made her mouth blab again. Again, she felt as though she were fated or destined to say what she next said, and she couldn't help how it came out. "I'm here to protect some important Gryffindors from the influence of Death Eaters. I need to keep an eye on Severus Snape."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "So, he's taken the mark already, then?"

"I- I don't know, sir. Maybe not yet."

"But he will?"

Hermione bit her lip, closed her eyes, and nodded.

"Which Gryffindors in particular?"

She opened her eyes to look back at him before answering. "Lily Evans. And- and James Potter too… probably."

"I doubt it," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Potter doesn't need help with that."

"What," Hermione flushed angrily. "And Lily does because she's a girl?"

"No," he said steadily. "Because Lily Evans is a Muggle-born and this year she will be Head Girl, evidence that Voldemort's prejudices about Muggles and Muggle-borns' intelligence are false. It makes her a bigger target."

He raised an eyebrow at her, and Hermione understood what he was getting at. Her alias identity of Anna Perri was a Half-blood witch. No need to complicate things and make her a target in this time as a Muggle-born again.

After she nodded slightly, Dumbledore continued speaking and smiled at her. "…and Miss Evans doesn't wander around surrounded by a gang of wizards for protection, as Mr. Potter often does."

"You seem to know a lot about her." Hermione said, trying to cover her embarrassment. Yeah, she had nearly called him a misogynist just now.

"She will be Head Girl." Dumbledore said simply.

Hermione wondered if she had been as observed by him. The future him, that is.

Hermione was enheartened when he released her bonds tying her to the chair. As she rubbed the circulation back into her arms, she saw him finally place his wand back into his robe pocket.

They then spoke for a few minutes about her stay here. She told him that she already had her backstory as a transfer student figured out, a seventh-year Gryffindor.

"It is a perfect cover, as it is the year for transfer students." He commented. "Tell, me, Miss Perri. Do you know what happened when I first became Headmaster and Tom Riddle came to see me?"

Hermione thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "He asked for a job. Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. You said no."

"Do you know what has happened since?"

"I'm assuming that there has been a curse on the position? No Professor has been able to keep the post for more than a year?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Exactly so."

"Whether this is important enough to teach students about in 20 years, I have no idea, so I will do a quick run-through of the events of the past year. In January of this year, three bombs went off in Moscow, killing seven muggles. What the muggles are unaware of, is that this was not a bombing, but a targeted attack by Tom Riddle and his followers, done quite near the Soviet Union's Ministry of Magic headquarters."

He paused, but seeing Hermione's rapt attention, he continued on. "Many of the Ministry diplomats throughout Eastern Europe are being targeted by Voldemort, both to join his ranks, and to be punished for refusing to do so. This attack was the final straw for many parents, who pulled their children from Durmstrang and sent them here. Voldemort may be active in Britain, but Hogwarts is safer than Durmstrang is now."

Dumbledore looked at Hermione pointedly. "The new Defense Professor is one of the group from Durmstrang who fled and is seeking protection. He has taught there for a few years, and he appears to be a competent teacher."

The Headmaster continued to look at her intentionally, willing her to see the importance of this discussion. "I want you to keep an eye on him for me. I can't ask you to watch all of the transfer students, and none of them are seventh years apart from yourself, so it wouldn't exactly be very easy to do in addition to your other assignments. However, I would like you to report back on the professor as much as you are able to observe him."

"Who is it?" She asked.

"Maybe you have heard of him?" He said lightly. "Igor Karkaroff?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Umm… yes. Yes, I've heard of him."

"Miss Perri." He said gently. "You are going to have to hide your thoughts a little better than that."

Hermione checked her Occlumency shields to see that the appropriate information was dispersed along the correct planes. Unfortunately, she was hiding all of Hermione Granger's identity behind the strongest shields now, so she had very little information on the open outer planes for Anna Perri. She frowned, seeing the problem. It was like a caricature, a one-dimensional figure.

Gods, this isn't going to fool any Legilimens, is it?

"I will teach you some Occlumency when you come to make your reports."

She smiled, finally having some relief in the whole situation. "Thank you, sir."

She stood up from the chair she had formerly been bound in, pausing to stretch. "Oh," she laughed. "I totally forgot to even make sure I'd hit the right date. It is August 8, 1977, isn't it?"

He smiled and inclined his head.

"Well, is… is it okay that I'm staying here until the school year starts?"

"Yes. Some of the other transfer students are here as well." He gave her a knowing look and his eyes twinkled. "You may even be able to get started on one of your duties."

Hermione was alone in the Gryffindor dormitory, something she appreciated to help her acclimate to the new, but also old and familiar, environment. There would be a private sorting ceremony for the transfer students who had arrived this summer, but the Headmaster told her she could go ahead and stay in Gryffindor tower even before that. Her sorting would be to Gryffindor, of course, even if she had to request it from the hat.

Remembering it was August, she changed into a flowery sundress before leaving the dorms and heading downstairs. She had found out from Dumbledore that over the summer months, breakfast was made to order and delivered to individual common rooms or rooms, only lunch and dinner being full meals in the great hall. She had arrived early in the morning, and after being unconscious for a little and interrogated for the rest of the time, she had quite missed lunch. She decided to spend the afternoon reading.

After making her way to the library, she checked out a few books on the seventh-year curriculum for that year (Dumbledore having helpfully provided a transfer student information package before she'd left his office). She realized that she would basically be missing the entire summer. It was the end of May when she left 1997 and now it was August. On a whim, Hermione grabbed the books and a few of the recent editions of the Daily Prophet and went outside to read on the grounds.

It was a beautiful summer day, perfect for reading. It was hot, but breezy, making it comfortable to lie in the sun for hours if need be.

Hermione settled herself down on a blanket she had pulled from her beaded bag. She was close enough to the lake to reap the benefits of the cool wind whipping up from the water, but not so close that it would chill her.

After an hour or so of reading, she was interrupted by something odd. Odd even for Hogwarts.

She saw some robes, boots, and a broom floating gently towards a tree about 10 feet from her. The robes were folded neatly, and the boots landed gently on top of them. The broom rested itself against the tree, leaning upright.

Hermione looked around, but didn't see anyone. She frowned, before shrugging and turning back to her book.

Ten minutes later, she heard splashing, followed by footsteps. Her eyes widened, realizing what she hadn't before.

Shite. I've interrupted someone bathing.

Quickly, she gathered up her books and papers and turned to go. Whoever it was had reached the tree. "I'm so sorry," she called over her shoulder, not looking back. "I swear I didn't see anything!"

Whoever it was said nothing, but she did hear some quick rustling as she began walking away.

"Wait," a voice called.

Hermione stopped walking but didn't dare turn around until she knew the other person was dressed.

"You forgot something."

She half turned and saw the seventh-year Charms textbook she had left, as well as her blanket.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she turned fully around to take the items.

It was a miracle that the worst she did was gasp, bite her lip, and blush furiously.

Hermione looked up at a younger, tanner, Severus Snape, dressed in Quidditch robes and come straight from a post-practice swim.

"I don't recognize you. You must be a transfer student," He said, handing her the book and blanket.

Lucius told me to be nice to the transfers.

He nearly scowled, thinking how much better Lucius was at niceties. Sure, he had taken to the dancing lessons quickly, but small talk was something different entirely. He would do his best to follow instructions, but his "making nice" was other people's idea of barely tolerating.

"I am," the girl said, still blushing. She put the items in her bag before she stuck her hand out, "I'm Anna Perri."

"Perri?" Severus' brow furrowed. I thought all the transfers were Soviets. "What's that? Italian?"

Anna Perri gave a shy smile. She raised an eyebrow pointedly and gestured at her hand, still mid-air waiting for him.

He scowled, trying to hide an involuntary smile himself as he shook her hand quickly before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his workout robes.

"Severus Snape," he said. "Though I'll deny I know you unless you end up in Slytherin."

To his consternation, she grinned at him. "Of course. I wouldn't expect less from a Slytherin. That is, from what I hear about them." She looked up at him as she grinned, biting her lip again before looking away. Her golden-brown hair was wild and frizzy, and it shone brilliantly in the afternoon sunlight. "I guess I'll cross my fingers and be cunning when I'm sorted." She looked back at him as she said this. The girl had a gleam in her eye as she looked at him that made his heart beat slightly faster than usual.

Shite, she was teasing him.

Was that flirting? No, Snape, don't get ahead of yourself. It was never flirting with Lily. You're misreading things.

Nevertheless, he found himself a little disarmed.

"I'm sorry again, I didn't mean to disturb you." She said, smiling. "I'll find another place to read from now on… if it bothers you."

Again, he didn't miss the implication. If it doesn't bother you… what? I'll stay by the lake when I might catch you mid-swim again?

Who the hell was this girl? Another perk of Death Eater service? It had to be that. Lucius must have found a way to engineer this as well. She couldn't actually be flirting with him genuinely.

Then again, she hadn't been here for the last six years to see how much of a pariah he was. As soon as the school year started, she'd be enlightened.

"It… does not bother me. I will need to change my routine soon anyway, as the school year begins."

"Are you a transfer too?" She asked. "I mean, you are staying here over the summer and I was told that isn't normal for most students."

"No." He said, leaving it at that.

I don't care who she is, I'm not telling her I'm a ward of the school.

"Oh, well… I…"

She is expecting some sort of small talk. Wonderful.

"So," he mumbled. His hands were still in his pockets and he shuffled his feet, swinging his dark hair forward and attempting to hide halfway behind it. "Perri is Italian?"

If he was expecting a short answer, that was far from what he got. She explained all about her father, the muggle Italian dentist-turned-diplomat in his later years, and her mother the English witch. Little Miss Italy had spent her first years of schooling at L'Academia in Genoa, only to have her diplomat father get transferred to Romania last year. The attack in Moscow spooked her mother, who decided to send her to Hogwarts in her final year, not knowing if muggle diplomats and their families in all the Soviet-led states would be similarly targeted as the wizarding ones.

Her story made sense on paper, but something seemed a little off about the way she was telling it. Rehearsed, a bit.

It's possible it was rehearsed, he thought. I've rehearsed plenty of conversations ahead of time.

As he listened to her speak, he didn't know whether to feel jealous of her life or in awe of her. Here was a beautiful, intelligent Half-blood witch with the same Italian-English background he had. He was becoming more and more convinced that she was either a trap set to entice him further into the Dark Lord's ranks or a benevolent gift from the Gods.

Severus found himself talking about his own Italian background, at first just to relate, but as they walked back to the castle, he said far more than he ever meant to. When she looked at him, she was wide-eyed and enraptured, appearing to hang on his every word, making it difficult for him not to stammer. He told her about his Nonna, who he was able to meet three or four times when his mother snuck him away from the house as a boy.

He only just refrained from telling this amber-eyed whelp of a girl about how his grandmother would speak to him lovingly, more so even than his mother would. His Nonna Maria called him Severo and every derivation of it. Severino, Verino, Vero. He had debated going by one of the names as he got older, changing himself over into something new.

It felt too familiar, however. He didn't want to let anyone in.

As they reached the doors to the entrance hall, he felt like she had stolen something from him. As if he had taken veritaserum without his knowledge and had been forced to spill his secrets. He hadn't said anything untoward, nor anything that really had to be kept secretive. That was just the thing, though. He had been honest, and he had been under no obligation to be so.

"I, well… I suppose I'll see you around, Severus." She smiled at him.

His eyes narrowed. "Perri." He sneered at her before stalking away, holding his broom tightly.

Best to avoid that one.

Well, that answered one of Hermione's questions immediately.

She had made no intentional effort to meet Severus Snape, but it had happened. Now that it had, she was stuck.

She wasn't going to be rude to him solely for the sake of the mission. It wasn't in her nature, and it had been hard enough to lie to him, even if the lies were coated in half-truths.

He was still Severus.

It was unmistakably him, despite the fact that his ears and nose were still slightly too big for his face, as if he had some growing into them to do. She had also never seen him so tan before, and it was clear that his sallow complexion as an adult was the result of too little sunlight on his olive-toned skin.

In all honesty, it was almost harder to resist him now.

Sure, his movements were less fluid and defined and his expression was somewhat easier to interpret, but that only made him more accessible, more human. As if she had been idolizing him to some extent as her Professor, an older man, and a mysterious spy before, but now she could know him and interact with him confidently as an equal.

Hermione groaned inwardly and flung herself back on her bed.

He must have known all along. What do I do now?

Dinner at the Great Hall that night was interesting.

There were 25 transfer students staying at Hogwarts over the summer, plus Severus Snape. Most of the students were younger, their parents having been concerned enough for their wellbeing to send them away to Hogwarts on short notice. Three had arrived last semester and had been placed in Ravenclaw, while the rest had finished out the year at Durmstrang before travelling to Hogwarts to stay through the summer and into the school year. This meant that 22 students and Hermione were to undergo a private sorting before the Hogwarts Express arrived, probably to avoid any undue influence of Slytherins on the transfers. A few teachers had been asked to stay behind and help monitor the students, so Professors Sinistra, Flitwick, Sprout, and… Karkaroff joined Dumbledore at the teacher's end of the table at dinner.

Karkaroff appeared much the same, if only younger and somewhat more friendly. He was doing well to ingratiate himself both with the teachers and with the transfer students.

Is he already a Death Eater? Hermione wondered.

Hermione sat between a third-year Ukrainian girl named Natasha Gurevna who was still working on her English, and a rising sixth year from Moscow named Alexander Popov. After trying and giving up quickly on making conversation with the girl, Hermione decided to speak to Mr. Popov, whose English was quite good and had already managed to find out some of the Hogwarts gossip.

"I saw you talking with Snape earlier," he said after a few minutes of small talk, spearing a potato. Potato dishes would be quite common throughout the school year. Perhaps the house elves were trying to be welcoming, but all they knew about Eastern Europe was the commonality of potatoes in the cuisine.

"Oh, yes." She replied, surprised. "I met him this afternoon when I was reading by the lake. He'd just come from Quidditch practice, it looks like."

"Of course, he had," Popov glowered, screwing up his long, pale face. "From what my sister tells to me, he is already You-Know-Who's man." He gestured to one of the Ravenclaws talking to Professor Flitwick, who shared his same dark blonde shade of hair. "My sister came last year, and she was warned about him and those from Slytherin House. Last year he was poor, with old robes and old books. After Paschal holidays, he returns with new robes and new books, and now he has broom. Of course, he can do Quidditch now. His spot on team is bought and sold."

Hermione wrinkled her nose, frowning.

She glanced down the table to the far opposite end, where Severus sat. He was engaged in somewhat stilted conversation with a fourth year who she guessed was from Kamchatka or whereabouts based on his features. Severus had clearly not heard them, and everyone else around them was chatting in either polite and stilted English or in their native languages.

"I wouldn't know about that. If his position were already guaranteed, he would have no need to practice, would he." She replied evenly.

Hermione thought polite indifference would be best here. She was going to rapidly need to figure out how to deal with Severus Snape in this time. She knew he repudiated the ideology of the Death Eaters as a man, but how did this young version feel? Hermione wasn't sure she could coddle an anti-Semetic, Pureblood extremist variation of him, even if Severus was still in there somewhere.

"It is for the show, Anya." Popov replied, still glaring daggers down the table at Snape, who was sure to look over eventually. "Malfoy family has given Snape the money for everything, just like they do to other Slytherins who are with You-Know-Who. My sister has told to me everything."

Hermione leaned in closer to him, trying to get him to lower his voice as she did. "Are you doing alright, Alexander? I know this must be difficult on you."

Popov gripped his fork tightly. "My father has been target of You-Know-Who. He says father must join to him or die. We come all this way to escape, not to clap for his Death Eaters at the Quidditch matches." He muttered quietly, but his voice was firm. "You do not speak to Snape or Slytherins if you support transfer students from U.S.S.R."

Hermione thought for a minute, not knowing how to respond immediately. "I am sorry for what you have gone through, what your whole family has gone through. I'll tread carefully around Snape, but I prefer to judge a person's character on my own rather than let rumours dictate my interactions."

Alexander's light blue eyes turned icily to her, his ire directed at her now. "You are fool Annushka. You are fool who will be dead or Death Eater's whore. There is no other answer but to run." Popov threw his napkin down on his plate and rose, storming away from the table.

Hermione flushed as everyone turned instinctively to see him leave, their eyes then naturally falling on his empty seat and her. Severus looked at her as well, his expression inscrutable.

Despite not all having been sorted yet, every one of the group of transfers had opted to reside in the Ravenclaw dorms over the summer, wanting to stick together rather than be housed in guest quarters dispersed throughout the castle. This left Hermione feeling lonely in Gryffindor Tower all by herself, and spending much of her reading and study time either in the library or outside on the grounds.

Hermione spoke to a few of the other transfer students over the next week and found that most of them felt the same way that Popov did about Slytherins. While a few of them seemed like they weren't too bothered by the idea of speaking to Severus Snape, they came down firmly on the side of exercised caution. The transfer student policy became to only speak politely to Snape if forced to sit with him during meals and to otherwise avoid him at all costs.

As for Hermione, she was unsure. Her feelings for Severus were as strong as they had ever been, despite the small changes in his demeanor and appearance and the twenty-year age difference. A pro-Voldemort Severus was sure to be less appealing than the man who had learned from his mistakes.

However, curiosity about this time of his life continued to plague her.

She found herself wandering towards the Quidditch pitch both in the mornings and the afternoons, walking near the lake again in the afternoons and early evenings, even strolling in the corridors when it was too hot to be outside, hoping to run across him.

He was avoiding her; she was sure of it.

Two weeks before the term began, the prefects arrived. Dumbledore had requested for them to come ahead of the train this year, specifically to help with the transfer students' transition to Hogwarts.

Hermione met the seventh-year Ravenclaw prefects, Mateo Reinero and Calliope Cohen, in one of her sojourns in the library. Mateo was tall, with burgundy hair and a dazzling smile, a chaser on the Quidditch team. Callie, as she insisted Hermione call her, was quite short, with dark curly hair and large, thick glasses that proved clearly that Hermione was living in the 70s. As Hermione chatted with Callie, she thought she could be friendly with her. She was a typical Ravenclaw; studious, logical, and quiet, and made an effort to be polite but not unnecessarily familiar.

As Hermione was putting Miss Cohen down in her head as a potential study partner to help her through her N.E.W.T.S. this year while she navigated the mission as well, Callie waved some people over to their table.

"If you want to know about Hogwarts, Anna, these three know more than anyone." Callie said, nodding perfunctorily. "How are you all doing?"

"Fine, thank you Callie," said a voice that made Hermione's blood run cold. She blushed furiously and pulled the Snape trick of curtaining her bushy hair in front of her face.

A young Remus Lupin looked down at her kindly. He was brighter in appearance, without so many scars. "I'm sure it must be hard on you to transfer so far into your schooling, so let us know if we can do anything to help. I'm Remus Lupin, and this is James Potter," he said, gesturing to the tall, messy-haired young man standing beside him who was the spitting image of his future son. "We're in Gryffindor, so we might not see much of you unless you're in that House, but we can point you in the right direction."

"What, Mr. Prefect, forgetting me?" Hermione blushed further as the third boy stooped down to look at her. He looked far healthier and handsomer than she'd remembered him. "I'm Sirius. You just let me know which House you're in and I'll see as much of you as I can."

Callie narrowed her eyes at him. James pulled Sirius up by his collar roughly. "Cut it out, Padfoot, you're scaring the new girl. Can't have Evans seeing you do that, you're supposed to help me make a good impression this year."

"Yeah, yeah, Head Boy and Head Girl and the private suites." Sirius grinned. "Don't worry Prongs, I'll help you get into Evans knick-" James slapped him on the back of his head and Remus blushed and covered his hand with his face in embarrassment.

"Hello!" Mateo Reinero had appeared behind the seated girls, having seen the three Gryffindors talking with them. "Good to see you all." He smiled good-naturedly and Hermione saw Callie visibly relax at Mateo's appearance. He turned to Sirius. "Couldn't stay away, Black? I thought only prefects were coming early."

"Ah, yes, well my good friend Potter here is our illustrious Head Boy, so he came early with the prefects. I have been staying with him over the holidays, and he was courteous enough not to leave me behind with his family, as wonderful as Mum and Dad Potter are." Sirius swung his arm over his friend's shoulder before using his other hand to ruffle James' hair. James lost his dour, serious look and grinned, a Harry-like grin. That's right, Hermione remembered. Sirius isn't on good terms with his family.

Remus turned back to the girls as James, Sirius, and Mateo talked about the Quidditch World Cup qualifying matches over their heads. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Anna Perri." Hermione said quietly, only daring to meet his eyes for a brief second.

"Nice to meet you, Anna," he said again, smiling. "Again, let me know if there's anything I can help you with."

After a few minutes, the boys left to "go find Evans" (according to James) or "meet the other new birds" (according to Sirius). Lupin trailed along quietly, nose in a library book he had just checked out.

When they were out of earshot and Mateo had retreated to another table, Callie let out a sigh of relief and turned back to her book. "Stay away from those," she muttered to Hermione. "They're always getting into trouble."

"That sounds like a good idea," Hermione agreed.

She would do her best to avoid them, but she needed to be in Gryffindor to act as Lily's protector. Biting her lip, she concluded she would have to do her best to be… unremarkable and unnoticeable.

She couldn't afford to be remembered.

Author's Note:

There was actually a bombing in Moscow in January 1977. I am trying to fit in world events in the time period. We'll see how I do.

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