Thursday, end of September

The Ministry of Magic

It was mid-morning and the Ministry atrium was largely abandoned after the morning rush, with only a few workers scurrying across the floor and a few memos floating in and out of the elevators. Hermione felt a bit uncomfortable in her new clothes. She wore blue robes, open at the front and cinched at the waist with a wide belt, with sleeves that were tight until her elbow where they opened up wide. She had a basic long-sleeved white blouse underneath and a pair of black slacks rather than a skirt or dress, and her wand in a holster off her belt.

Unlike in her own time there wasn't any security before the elevators. Taking a deep breath she entered the elevator and pressed the button for Level 2, bracing herself for the rickety ride. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had its own circular atrium with several doors leading to various sub departments, with the main door leading to the Auror headquarters. Hermione was looking for the Administrative Registration Department, however, and found a small rather shabby door on the other side of the atrium. She stepped inside and made her way to the reception desk. A dark-haired wizard sat there but didn't look up as she entered, his focus on the small model broomstick he was currently polishing with a less-than-clean handkerchief and a jar of brown wax.

"Yes?" the bored-looking young clerk asked when it became clear she wouldn't go away. "What do you want?"

"Ehm, I'm here to ask about NEWTs," Hermione began tentatively. "I'd like to take them, that is."

He glanced up at her but continued polishing the tiny broomstick. "Name?"

She made her way to the visitor's chair in front of the desk and sat down, feeling horribly out of place. "Hermione Granger."

"Age?"

"Eighteen…" Well, she guessed, anyway. She had been eighteen before arriving back in time, although that didn't quite account for the extra time she'd used when Turning during her third year. Maybe nineteen would be a more accurate estimate but that would make her too old for Hogwarts.

Swish, swish went the cloth over the stick. "Why didn't you take them last spring then? You're overdue. Weren't you at Hogwarts?"

Nerves assaulted her. She wasn't prepared for an interrogation and hadn't given any thought to her cover story, which she now realised was a very big problem. "No… I couldn't go then."

The swishing stopped, finally. "I have to ask my supervisor," the clerk muttered with some reluctance. "Wait here."

Hermione let out a breath and wiped her now sweaty palms on her robes.

"I say, Miss Granger! Over here!"

Hermione looked around, startled, but a quick scan of the room didn't show anyone looking for her. When she hesitantly took a few steps toward the entrance to the offices, she saw a portrait waving frantically at her.

"Finally!" The dark-haired witch glared at her. "I've been waiting for you, girl."

"Sorry? I didn't know!" Hermione protested, finally recognising the portrait. Headmistress Wilkins apparently had a portrait in the Ministry as well as at Hogwarts, this time dressed in flowing black robes with long sleeves and a black pointy cap. Relief flooded through her, at having someone recognise her, someone she was quite sure she could trust. "How did you know I was here, anyway?"

Headmistress Wilkins huffed. "Oh, you don't think Phineas has already told my portrait at Hogwarts of what has transpired in your time?"

Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, before another thought struck her. Hogwarts. "But… if he's at Hogwarts, doesn't he become bound to serve the current Headmaster?"

The older witch shook her head. "No, girl, in this case we are lucky. The portrait you brought, Phineas in that portrait is bound to your time's Headmaster and has assimilated the portrait in this timeline. We have tested it, and the enchantment holds against Albus' meddling ways. Now, we don't have time for this. Make sure you talk to Amelia Bones. I am almost certain she can be trusted to help with your current situation. Tell her you invoke the Pactum Temporis."

Hermione nodded and turned back to the room just as the clerk returned with a witch in tow. She looked familiar, somehow. Brown-haired and dressed in sensible but rich auburn robes.

"Yes?" the older witch said with a raised eyebrow. "What's the matter? I'm Amelia Bones, by the way, Head of this department."

Hermione took a deep breath. "My name is Hermione Granger and I invoke the Pactum Temporis."

She had no idea what the pact meant but obviously Madam Bones did. Her eyes grew wide but she didn't lose any time in whipping out her wand. Aiming it at the clerk whose name Hermione still didn't know, the older witch didn't hesitate. "Obliviate!" The wizard's eyes glazed over and he returned absentmindedly to his desk and began looking for his polishing wax again.

Meanwhile, Madam Bones had opened the door to the offices and was waving Hermione through, making sure she wasn't seen by the clerk. She was ushered into Madam Bones' office, and soon a kettle and two cups stood in front of them even as Hermione took a seat in front of Madam Bones' desk.

"So, you invoke the Covenant," Madam Bones said slowly, as if thinking out loud. "I hadn't expected that." She poured tea for both of them, and gestured towards the milk jug and sugar bowl for Hermione to add what she wanted.

"Err, sorry? What exactly is it, Madam Bones?" Hermione asked, suddenly nervous again. She poured some milk in her cup and sat back in her chair.

Madam Bones sighed, her eyes distant. Hermione took the chance to study her a bit. She had never met Madam Bones in her own time, and only knew of her from that article in the Prophet plus a few details her niece Susan had mentioned. She looked to be in her thirties or forties, perhaps, although with magical folk one could never be certain. Clearly she had been at the Ministry for some time if she held the Department Head position.

The older witch turned her eyes back on Hermione. "As you know, this Department also handles education for young witches and wizards in Britain. We oversee and audit Hogwarts, including managing the OWL and NEWT exams given at Hogwarts, while the Hogwarts Board of Governors approve funding, staffing and so on, and the Headmaster runs the school."

Hermione nodded and sipped her tea.

"Well, I think it was Heliotrope Wilkins who instated the Covenant between Hogwarts and the Ministry when it was founded and this department was formed. It is a rather odd contract that says, essentially, that the one who invokes Pactum Temporis is to be given any and all assistance, as they will have a mission that is crucial for Hogwarts and likely for Wizarding Britain as a whole. Yet the contract also says that it is absolutely vital that the existence of the Covenant is kept secret and that no one must learn about the help given, or the nature of your mission."

"I see." Not that she did, not exactly.

Madam Bones smiled at her briefly. "So, with that said, what do you need?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I need, for my own sake, to finish my education. I don't have any NEWTs as I wasn't able to finish my last year at Hogwarts, and my credentials wouldn't be valid now anyway. There are other things that need to be done but I've no idea how to go about it, yet. I don't know who I can trust, here."

Madam Bones nodded again and pulled out a scrap of parchment from her desk. "I see. You need a background story, at any rate, or do you have something thought out already?" She muttered to herself as she started writing, and looked up after a while. "Granger… Are you related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, by any chance?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not really but perhaps I should be, now. I'm Muggleborn but in the current political climate I'd rather go as Half-blood, I think."

Madam Bones nodded absently and kept writing. "From what Heliotrope told me when she inducted me I guess you've come as far back as you could, no? So about seventeen to eighteen years, I take it? Is the current situation really not resolved by then or did you come for an unrelated reason? No, don't answer that, I don't think I want to know. What is your economical situation, if I may be so crass?"

Hermione took a deep breath and started talking. She didn't mention anything sensitive but the older witch could probably deduce a fair bit between the lines.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Hermione stumbled dazedly out onto the brightly lit street after a long time in Madam Bones' office, feeling a great deal lighter than before. Now she had the beginnings of a plan. Madam Bones would send word to her when she'd figured out what the options were for Hermione's NEWTs and if there were any scholarships available for her books, robes and other things she needed for her final year. They'd come up with a background story for her where she'd been home-schooled until her parents died in an accident abroad, leaving her an orphan, and that she'd spent most of her years in various other countries but wanted to return to Britain to secure her future and sort out the estate.

When she returned to Spinner's End she went back to Heliotrope's text. She needed to understand. With a hastily prepared cup of tea she returned to the sitting room with the book.

Divergence of Time

As time goes on, the differences will accumulate between the new state of events and the time you came from. It may be the little things, such as the name of a son or the friendships made in childhood, or the major things, such as battles being won or lost, businesses flourishing or perishing, or people dying that should have lived.

Since you are here with a purpose, any documentation you may have brought is invaluable. Record as much as you can, as soon as you can, about anything and everything that may be relevant to your mission. People, countries, businesses. Things you have seen, done, learnt. People you cared about, stories you heard.

Protect your knowledge and your history. Never let anyone know the details of what might have come to be. A secret shared is a secret no more.

Time Turners

This novel invention uses a different approach to Time. They are inherently limited in going back only a few hours, at most a day, and in general do not alter the very stream of Time. A closed Time loop leads to the same outcome no matter where you enter it. This is what creates the limit: if you try to push a Time Turner to go back further than it can handle, the small, inevitable changes to the Time Stream that are otherwise assimilated back into the original Time Stream will be large enough to destabilise the object, causing it to explode violently with likely fatal results.

My Journey

I was but a student when I was asked, only just turned seventeen. My first few years at Hogwarts were happy and carefree, with learning, and friends, and laughter. Then he came to Scotland.

The Muggle strife hadn't bothered us much even though rumours and whispers trickled down to us even as children. Oliver Cromwell, the name was heard increasingly often from the lips of our fathers.

There was battle, and blood, and pain. He had enslaved the giants. Hordes of them threw rocks at the Castle while his Muggle cannons and rifles made short work of us all. What was a hex against that, a bullet faster than thought that destroyed everything in its path? I didn't know why he went for Hogwarts. As it turned out, he was a Squib. His hatred for his magical family overwhelmed us all.

I was chosen merely out of convenience. I was the oldest surviving student who was still conscious when Hogwarts started to disintegrate. The Castle forced me to go up to the Headmaster's tower where Rowena spoke to me from a painting. She said there was no choice left, that I must leave all I knew behind. I was able to gather a bundle of clothes, some food and a few Galleons before the Castle flung me through the window, and I landed behind my parents' house just in the moment when I was born.

The next few years were very difficult. I was no one, an unknown, and female, and had no education or way to prove my worth in either the Wizarding world or the Muggle one where I would have to go in order to find him. In the end, I had to resort to female wiles to snare him, coupled with a fair amount of magical coercion, and it took me five years to gain his trust. I even came to love him in the seventeen years I had before the original time of the Hogwarts invasion.

The cost was immense, though: I shifted his gaze from Hogwarts but sacrificed the whole of Ireland to do so, and he returned to Scotland the subsequent year anyway. I couldn't bear to stay with him after that, after seeing the red blood wash the gutters clean in Drogheda and Dundee, the piles of bodies thrown haphazardly together in the town square. Instead, I fled back to Hogwarts and was accepted as Professor of Arithmancy and Alchemy.

The Pactum Temporis

I had contacted the Headmaster as soon as I was able to, roughly half a year after Turning. However, never having heard of such things before, he refused to believe me. I couldn't even sway his mind to allow me to finish my schooling since I had arrived without identification or any ties to the magical world as it was.

It took me half a century to gain enough recognition in the magical community to be made Headmistress of Hogwarts. Once the Ministry was instated, I worked with the Department of Mysteries to set up the Pactum Temporis, to help any subsequent Turner without question. It is my fervent wish that it may never be used, but should it be needed, I will rest easier knowing that it is available.

The Consequences

I didn't know to what I was agreeing when Rowena told me to go. I was but a child then, and the child I once had been was lost through the Turning. The baby who was born when I crashed down in the backyard of my family home, a Squib now called Helena, didn't live past her third birthday.

In the end, my life has been happy. I have probably achieved more now than I ever would have, had I refused. I have lived, loved and laughed. Still, I wonder what life would have been like otherwise. My parents had planned to marry me off once I finished Hogwarts, and I would likely have been a mother and house-witch instead of becoming the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Saturday, Spinner's End

Snape arrived Saturday mid-morning while Hermione was busy washing her hair. She had a moment of panic when she thought she hadn't locked the bathroom door as he came up the stairs, but soon heard him going downstairs again. When she went to join him he was seated in his armchair, looking through the Daily Prophet.

"Hi, how was your week?"

He looked at her oddly. "Fine."

"Err, good."

She fled to the kitchen and put on some tea for both of them, just to have something to do. She'd spent the week writing lists, fretting over NEWTs, and reading the texts from the Headmaster and Heliotrope Wilkins. She needed to focus, to take one step at a time and worry about the rest later, such as figuring out how to win the war this time around.

It was hard to reconcile this younger Snape with his older self. He hadn't yet grown into his tall frame completely, his voice lacked some of that deep lethal purr he'd perfected as a Professor, and she couldn't exactly trust him yet with all her secrets as she was still unsure of his true loyalties. Lily was another issue she didn't know how to handle, and which she preferred not to think about for the moment.

They settled back in the sitting room, him with a stack of Potions journals and a notebook, and her with her lists and the book on Occlumency. When they'd finished their tea in a slightly awkward silence he rose and took the cups out to the kitchen. That was at least one thing she liked about him, so far, that he didn't default to making her do everything in the kitchen the way Ron used to. Ron… The pang of longing in her chest didn't feel quite as strong anymore, at least not like a heartbreak after a relationship, more in the sense of missing a friend. Harry had been better at household duties, and had told her a bit about it during their months in the tent. At least when she thought of him it was with the hope that she might make a positive difference in his life, even if he wouldn't end up being her friend the way he used to be.

The day slipped by without her noticing other than needing to get up to turn on the lights. He was now standing in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and lank hair hanging over half his face.

"Grab a cloak, we're going out."

That confused her. "Where?"

"To meet up with Regulus." He sounded impatient, as if the answer ought to have been obvious to her.

"Regulus? As in, Black?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, did you know him? I mean, before?"

She shook her head. "No… No, I didn't." It was hard, balancing all this knowledge of what had come to pass in her time with the living, breathing people currently surrounding her, completely unaware of their incoming potential doom. Grabbing her cloak, wand and scarf, she shook her head and walked out the door before Snape who closed the door and Warded it. He reached out his hand, and when she took it she was immediately pulled into the suction of an Apparition.

They landed, only a little roughly, on a dimly lit cobbled street just outside a pub. Hermione wanted to ask where they were but Snape had already started to move for the door, so she had to hurry after him.

She didn't know what to expect of Regulus Arcturus Black. All she knew of him were snippets Sirius had told them, of a young brother eager to please, and the few details she'd learnt during the Horcrux hunt, when it became evident that he'd abandoned Voldemort and tried to thwart his plans.

A brown-haired young wizard waved at them when they entered the pub, and Snape quickly made his way over without looking at Hermione who trailed behind him.

"Reg," Snape said curtly and seated himself in the booth. Hermione slipped in beside him, and Regulus flagged down a barmaid and ordered two more pints of beer for them after checking what they wanted.

"You must be Hermione. Forgive me, where are my manners? Regulus Black, at your service." He'd risen from the table as he spoke and gave her a formal bow before sitting down again. His hair was shoulder-length but brown rather than black, and he lacked his brother's outrageously good looks. The similarity was there, anyway, in the eyebrows and the nose and the tilt of his mouth. Clearly he had the Pure-blood manners but he also seemed to lack Sirius' almost reckless overconfidence.

She gave him a small smile. "Nice to meet you, Regulus." She fiddled with the coaster, unsure of how much to tell him. "So… what do you do all day?"

"Well, I just finished Hogwarts and now I work at the Daily Prophet, with their printing press. I'm a typesetter, setting up the charms required to print the paper."

"Really? That sounds interesting. How did you end up there?"

Regulus snorted. "Not very, to be honest. Father reluctantly agreed to let me work somewhere that wasn't the family affairs or at the Ministry but only as long as I do something boring under the oversight of one of his business contacts. However, since my rather useless brother isn't very likely to take over after Father, what with him being disowned and all, I will inevitably have to go into the business soon."

Hermione nodded and was saved trying to scramble for something to talk about when the barmaid arrived with their drinks and took their food orders. Snape was quiet, not looking at either of them. She had no idea how much Snape had told the other wizard, clearly he knew her name already but did he know about her time travel?

"Orion… your father, what does he do, exactly?" Hermione tried to recall what she knew of the Black patriarch, which was even less than she knew about Regulus, unfortunately.

"He manages the Black estates and affairs, mainly dealing in import and export of luxury goods and rare items."

"I see," Hermione said and busied herself with her beer. "Do you travel a lot then?"

Regulus shrugged. "Not really. Father is away to the Continent occasionally. Mother stays at home and I've been busy at Hogwarts up until now. What about you?"

"Yes… I've travelled a bit around Europe at least."

Hermione smiled weakly and they spent some time talking about his work and Hermione's travels to France and Germany. Snape sat quietly in the corner, obviously listening intently but not participating, glowering at his beer as if it had done something to offend him. His attitude didn't exactly help make conversation flow more smoothly.

Snape excused himself to the loo after another hour, and Hermione took a deep breath. "Regulus… look, I think I know what your loyalties are, and I just want to say… whatever you do, don't go to the cave alone, OK?"

Regulus frowned. "Cave? And what do you mean, what do you know exactly?"

Hermione tried to recall what she had learnt about the locket and the cave. She had no idea about the timing. "Has he asked to borrow Kreacher yet, for an errand?"

He seemed to realise what she was getting at, his eyes going wide. "No… he hasn't. Why?"

Relief surged through her. Good, they still had time then. "You should probably let him borrow Kreacher but he's setting up a trap. If you go alone to try to retrieve the item he's hiding you'll die. And you need to have some poison antidotes on hand, and tell Kreacher that he must return to you."

The young wizard blinked and swallowed. "I've… I didn't think anyone knew."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. But promise me you won't go alone? Please? I'm on your side here."

He nodded with apparent relief. "Alright. You have my word, I won't go alone."

"Good. And don't tell anyone, alright? Not even Severus, not yet. About this… or anything else."

"You have my word that I won't spill your secrets, on my magic," he replied formally, settling the oath with a flick of his wand.

The black-haired wizard returned just then and Hermione gave him a faint smile although he didn't look very happy, looking between the two of them with a suspicious frown. Had he heard something? She took a deep breath and tried to think of something to say. "You like Quidditch?"

She breathed a sign of relief when she discovered that neither of them were rabid Quidditch fanatics, even if Regulus watched the Appleby Arrows' games whenever he could and Snape followed the Pride of Portree. Slowly they all relaxed and ended up talking about other things, such as some recent advances in Charms and Potions which she found a lot more interesting than Quidditch, having read the theories herself in the Hogwarts library when writing school essays.

Some time later she excused herself to the loo. After finishing her business and washing her hands she fished out a small piece of parchment and a Muggle ballpoint pen from her trusted bag. When she returned they were apparently waiting for her, ready to leave. Snape was leaning against the wall, looking bored and twitchy at the same time. When Regulus handed her her cloak with a polite smile she managed to smuggle the note into his hand.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Early October

Hermione met up with Regulus again a few days later. Regulus had some time before his night shift was about to start, and Snape was gone again for his Apprenticeship. After some deliberation via owl they'd settled for a private room in a different pub not too far from the Daily Prophet, called the Jumping Jarvey. The pub was rather empty, it being a Tuesday afternoon, and Regulus was already waiting by the bar when she arrived.

"Thanks for accepting," Hermione said, suddenly nervous again.

He nodded and was just about to say something when the bar-witch arrived. Hermione ordered a Butterbeer while Regulus ordered a beer and some crisps. They were given the key to the private room, a simple dining room with a dining table and six chairs, and the bar-witch brought in their orders shortly thereafter. The walls had once been white, there was a dark wooden cupboard in a corner and the table was dented and scratched but at least looked as if it had been cleaned recently.

"What is it you want from me?" Regulus asked, a bit wary but not hostile. "You seemed to have guessed something I haven't told anyone."

"He told you a little about me, didn't he? Severus," she asked in return and took a sip of her Butterbeer, gaining a frothy moustache in the process. He nodded in return, and Hermione continued. "This is not my time. I know… things… that would put myself and those around me in danger. I shouldn't be talking to you either but I'm quite sure you're on the right side in this conflict, deep down. Can you hide this from him?"

Regulus frowned. "I'll do my best. Tell me. What was the cave you were talking about?"

She took a deep breath. "In my time, I knew your brother. I never met you however and it took us some time to figure out that you had died in that cave I mentioned earlier, stealing a Horcrux from the Dark Lord. Kreacher took it back to Grimmauld Place but didn't manage to destroy it so he too slowly went mad. Your brother knew you were a Death Eater and thought you were killed when trying to back out of what the Dark Lord had asked you to do." Regulus went pale and his pint of beer had stopped halfway to his mouth. She continued, relentlessly. "I knew your brother, some. He was put in Azkaban for over ten years for a crime he didn't commit, and then he escaped and lived like a fugitive for a few more years before dying a stupid death caused by Bellatrix Lestrange. Your parents… I don't know when they died. I think your father went first, if I recall correctly it was already this year, and your mother I only know from the horrible painting stuck at Grimmauld Place. She used to scream at everyone, called me Mudblood and everyone else were filth and traitors. My friend inherited the place as Sirius' godson, there was no one else alive."

Regulus put the pint down with a thump, causing beer to slosh over the edge. He looked paler than Severus, even, huge eyes and a fearful expression. "My father… dead? You don't remember any details? He's healthy as can be at this point, as far as I know."

Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, I honestly haven't heard. Maybe it was related to losing you?"

Regulus nodded slowly. "Yeah… if he thought the Dark Lord was behind it he wouldn't have lived long after. I'm quite sure he would have run off to confront the Dark Lord and ending up killed. And Horcrux… Merlin, that's as dark as it gets. He's been talking about reaching immortality but I didn't think it was that bad."

Regulus sat staring at the wall, silent. Hermione kept quiet, letting him think. It must be difficult to take it all in, hearing of his own death, his family. She still didn't quite know what to think of him, but he was her best alternative for an ally so far even if she didn't know what had made him turn against Voldemort. After some time when she'd finished half her Butterbeer he turned his gaze on her.

"So, what do you need from me? You didn't want Severus to find out, obviously."

She leaned forward a bit. "I need to learn Occlumency, and fast. Do you know it?"

He twitched a smile at her. "A bit. Funny you should ask, I've been practising with Severus too a few times. He asked. Why do you need that?"

She shrugged. "Too much to hide. I'll tell you later but I don't know what I can say yet. Sorry."

He looked at her as if trying to figure something out. "Alright, I'll teach you what I know and we can practice together."

Hermione felt as if a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had an ally, finally. "Will this put you in danger? With… with You-Know-Who?"

He shrugged. "I don't think so. I'm low enough in the pecking order to not have much one-on-one time with him, and he hasn't had reason to invade my mind yet. I think he wouldn't expect me to hide something like this so he wouldn't think to look for it as long as I give him what he wants. It will be trickier to hide our meetings from Severus."

She nodded and sagged back in her chair. Another thing came to mind. "Snape… Severus… I don't think he's there yet, but I hope he will come around soon. In my time… he was the key to all of it, he left the Dark Lord and turned spy."

Regulus nodded. "Shall we get on with it, then?"

Much, much later Hermione had a vicious headache and an increased respect for Severus Snape and anyone else who successfully managed to Occlude and hide memories from others. When Harry had described his lessons in fifth year it had sounded as if he simply wasn't trying hard enough, but shielding was much more difficult than she'd expected. They'd talked about different types of Occlusion and decided to start with the most basic version, a shield against weak attacks. She would probably never be able to hide all her memories of her past future life, so it would make more sense to focus on keeping people out than on trying to get fancy with false memories. They'd practised recognising subtle attacks although Regulus claimed he wasn't very good at it, and she'd actually managed to keep him out a few times although he'd made it through more times than not. They had agreed to meet up again Thursday evening, as she realised she needed all the practice she could get but hoped it would get easier over time.

Somehow she managed to return to the grimy old street and the grimy old house which she'd already come to see as home. She downed a headache relief potion before crashing into bed, and for once the nightmares let her be.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

That Friday morning while she was eating breakfast a grey owl came from Madam Bones with a meeting invitation. It hooted and flew off after rather politely nicking a piece of bacon off her plate. Not long thereafter she again made the trek through the Ministry, this time slightly more confident. Soon she was seated in the older witch's office with a cup of tea and some shortbread from Madam Bones' own stash.

"You'll have to go to Hogwarts for your NEWTs, I'm afraid," Madam Bones said. "Unfortunately there won't be any additional scheduled NEWT examinations this year due to some political issues, so unless you want to wait another year that is your best option. I have already spoken to Albus, and he will want to meet you before accepting you as a student but that shouldn't be a problem."

Hermione's heart sank. She didn't want to face Professor Dumbledore until she had to. "I see. Well, Hogwarts it is, then."

The older witch peered at her over her teacup. "He agreed to a meeting. I'll come with you, if you wish."

"Please. Could you ask him for a meeting the week after next? I… need some more time to prepare."

Madam Bones nodded. "Certainly. Also, I have found a few scholarships that are applicable to you including one set up by Heliotrope Wilkins herself." She opened a drawer and pulled out a dark brown leather pouch which she slid over to Hermione. It felt heavy and clinked slightly when she lifted it, and she put it into her bag without opening it.

They spent another hour working on the details for Hermione's cover story. Madam Bones had fabricated some paperwork for two employees with the Department of Mysteries that had spent a lot of time at various locations abroad, and she would claim to be a distant relative to Hector Dagworth-Granger. They settled on her being half-blood with a Muggle-born mother and a half-blood father, since there was no way she'd be able to claim to be Pure-blood.

She sent off another note to Regulus once she'd made it out from the Ministry, asking if he had time to meet up the following week. Suddenly there was too much to do in preparation for Hogwarts, and too little time. She hoped it would be enough, it simply had to be.