A/N: I know this isn't the chapter you all want from me, but I've been tossing this idea around in my head for about a week now and I wanted to get it written down before I forgot. I won't be promising any semblance of regular updates, but I do have a plan for the story and I will work on it at whatever pace my muse decides (she's a fickle bitch). Anyway, if you like what you read, let me know (it appeases my muse and lets me write), and follow so you don't miss an update or just check back whenever you remember to.

As with all my chapters, I hope you enjoy!

When I'm down and out for the count

You make me stronger

Turn me into a warrior

A hunter

You are my Artemis

-Artemis, Stephen Rezza

Hermione made her way through the partially rebuilt school of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry to the Room of Requirement. The battle had been gruesome, the things she had seen haunted her. It was surreal to think that she had survived when so many hadn't, that she would be returning to school to carry on as if life was normal. She wasn't sure what normal felt like anymore. She wasn't sure if she believed in the idea of normal.

Rebuilding had been no easy task, but plenty of people were willing to help, herself included. Harry and Ron had been too excited about the prospect of hunting down Death Eaters, but Hermione had decided she would rather not. She pushed open the doors to the elusive room, smiling to herself as she entered the small, cozy room that had begun appearing to her. Nearly half her life had been spent going nonstop and she wanted to know what it felt like to have a semblance of quiet. Really, she just wanted to begin putting the war behind her. Obviously, that was too much to ask.

Instead of the usual room, it was eerily similar to the way it had been in her fifth year. The only difference was it was outfitted for one person. A "person" that was the source of the scar that now throbbed painfully on her left arm. The ghost of the witch who had fallen at the hands of Molly Weasley was going through the motions of dueling. Apparently, even in death, it was all she was capable of. The ghost of Bellatrix Lestrange turned to her, and Hermione felt her blood run cold.

Only...

Only there was nothing. There was no shriek, no insult, no threatening. Rather, she looked... regretful. Hermione wasn't sure if she was imagining it. She had half a mind to run to Madame Pomfrey just to be sure that she wasn't losing it. But...something about the expression on the ghost's face made her stay. Neither of them spoke, both frozen in place by events that had already occurred.

"I-" Bellatrix began, floating forward but stopping when fear flashed across Hermione's face.

"You're a ghost," Hermione stated in disbelief.

Bellatrix shrugged.

"Merlin! Of course, you are!" Hermione shouted, gesturing angrily at her, "Because why should I have a shred of peace?"

The young witch turned, storming out of the room as Bellatrix cried after her, "I wasn't trying to steal this place!"

Hermione hadn't heard, or she pretended she hadn't, because she didn't turn around. Bellatrix sighed, drifting off somewhere to be alone. Again.

It was a struggle for Hermione to breathe as she fled through the corridors. She didn't know where she was going but she didn't care. Tears of panic filled her vision even as she wiped them away, making it harder for her to breathe. Her chest tightened as the realization sunk in, and she leaned against the wall. She bowed her head, clutching her chest and inhaling painful gulps of air through her sobs.

In hindsight, she was lucky no one stumbled across her. She couldn't stand the idea of anyone seeing her in such a state. She was the calm one, the composed one. She wasn't the one who freaked out. It just had to be her. She just had to be there during the time Hermione always went to take time for herself and try to relax with only herself as company instead of the endless questions she dutifully answered.

Shaking breaths filled Hermione's lungs and she pushed off from the wall, making her way to the Gryffindor Common Room so she could shower and put this...unfortunate occurrence behind her. All she wanted was to move on and be normal.

Several days had passed without another run-in with Bellatrix's ghost and Hermione was beginning to think she had imagined it. She hadn't heard anyone else mention seeing the spectral woman. Maybe she should go to Madame Pomfrey, just to be safe. It was as she was deciding to leave the library to go see the medi-witch that she saw her again. The sighting pulled a shriek from her lips, the sudden appearance unexpected in the quiet, empty library. Her shriek startled the ghost of the woman, eliciting a gasp of surprise.

"You again," Bellatrix mused after she turned.

"Y-you. Wh-what do you want from me?" Hermione stuttered, clutching books to her chest and backing into a shelf.

Ghostly brows furrowed in confusion. She didn't want anything from the brunette witch who happened to stumble across her twice now. She was the only one who had discovered her presence, so far. Bellatrix tried to keep to herself. Not even the other ghosts knew she was here.

"I don't- I don't want anything from you. You're the one who keeps finding me," Bellatrix pointed out, letting her incorporeal feet touch the stone floor.

"I wish I didn't," Hermione spat, still pushing herself into the shelf.

Bellatrix's eyes dropped to the floor, then moved back to Hermione. "Because of what I did."

It wasn't a question but Hermione nodded anyway. Her tone puzzled the young witch, eliciting curiosity that was stronger than her fear. "Why are you so...calm?"

A wry chuckle escaped Bellatrix before she could stop herself.

"There is a...clarity, of some sort, in death. My insanity was stripped away," she lifted her feet from the ground, reclining in midair, "Leaving me with the knowledge of all I had done and the capacity to feel how wrong it all was. It was difficult to come to terms with, at first. I had wrapped my insanity around me like a blanket to protect my conscience from the weight of my actions."

Bellatrix's feet touched the ground and a sad expression molded her face as she continued, "But now it's gone. I can't hide myself from the atrocities I committed. I was angry when it first settled on me. It was nothing more than an automatic reaction, conditioned into me from my time being alive. It didn't last long. It is much harder to be satisfied with anger when there's nothing you can do to act upon it."

"I understand," Hermione whispered, no longer trying to make herself as small as possible, "It's easier to be angry. I'm...I'm so angry sometimes."

"Anger will not help you move forward. I know that now. It took death for me to truly understand. For me to learn the truth." Bellatrix scuffed her ghostly feet on the stone floor.

Hermione watched her closely, loosening her grip on the books she was holding. "What's it like?"

"Dying?"

Hermione nodded.

"It's like...Have you ever used a Time-Turner?" At Hermione's nod, she continued. "When you first die, it's like the moment after everything stops moving past you. It all stops and it's like being frozen in time. And then after, everything rushes past like you're going backward in time except you're catching up to the present and it finally slows down to normal speed."

"Did you- did you choose to become a ghost?" Hermione shoved her anxiety down, surrendering to her burning curiosity entirely.

Bellatrix shook her head from side to side, her translucent curls bobbing up and down. "I'm not sure what caused me to become a ghost. Maybe it was the trauma of it all, maybe I'm not welcome in death's peace for everything I've done wrong."

The brunette took an uncertain step forward. "Why are you talking to me?"

She shrugged, turning her head to the side. "I guess I- I guess I'm lonely. You're the only one who's seen me. Not even the other ghosts know I'm here. I've been...hiding, I suppose. I had no idea you would be in the Room of Requirement."

Hermione waved off the attempt at an apology. "I'm lonely, too."

"I know that what I've done unforgivable things to you," Bellatrix paused, shuffling her feet, "But if you could forgive me, maybe we could be lonely together sometime?"

An unexpected grin spread across Hermione's face as she nodded enthusiastically. "I think I'd like that. Maybe it'll help us both move on from what's happened."

Bellatrix nodded in agreement, Hermione's smile eliciting one from her.

"I usually go to the Room of Requirement after dinner," Hermione said over her shoulder as she left.

A thrill traveled through Hermione's body at the prospect of having someone who understood. Her friends were great, but Harry and Ron were Merlin-knows-where and her friends that did stay behind to help didn't get it. They tried, and it wasn't their fault, but they weren't there to know. Even Harry and Ron, who had been with her, wouldn't understand parts of it. As strange as it was to talk about things with Bellatrix's ghost, it was easier for her to understand. She had committed those acts, sure, but she was there and she had a better chance of understanding than anyone.

The Great Hall was at the usual capacity for dinner. Most of the people who were helping returned home, but a few stayed behind. Then there was Hermione, who had no parents to go home to. Her only other option was the Burrow, but it was awkward without Harry and Ron. And she was getting tired of explaining that she wouldn't be getting together with Ron when he got back. They were too different, and not in a way that was good for an intimate relationship. They would always be close because of their time fighting together, and growing up together, but they could both agree that a relationship between them wouldn't work. Well, it could, but neither of them would be happy in the long run. It was better if they were just friends and could support each other without the stress of a relationship.

Hermione waved to the people in the Great Hall that had waved to her, offering small smiles but mostly keeping to herself. Everyone respected her need for space but always made it known that she was welcome to join if she wanted. Most days she didn't, but there was an occasional day where the loneliness was crushing her and she needed to just be near someone. On those days, she usually sat with Luna. It was nice to sit with the blonde witch who was especially gifted at knowing exactly when Hermione wanted talkative company or quiet company. Luna was patient and kind, and out of everyone, Luna was the only one to never ask the questions plaguing everyone else.

Today, Hermione decided to sit by herself in her usual spot. Minerva had gotten rid of the house tables while they were working on repairs, but Hermione couldn't pull herself away from the spot she had grown accustomed to. It was the only thing that was still the same even after everything that had happened. After feeling out of control for so long, Hermione had settled herself into a strict routine to help keep herself together. It was her attempt at feeling normal, even if it didn't really work.

"Hermione," Minerva said, coming to a stop beside the younger witch, "May I?"

"Of course," Hermione said, gesturing to the seat next to her.

Minerva settled herself next to her, doing her best to face her as much as possible. "The repairs are on schedule, are you sure you want to attend rather than just taking your exams? I can have them administered any day you'd like."

"I'm sure. I just really want to finish school on my terms." Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice, her left leg bouncing up and down.

The Headmistress nodded, her sharp green eyes flicking to Hermione's leg. She was about to say something about it but thought better at the last second. "Let me know if you change your mind."

Hermione nodded. "I will. Is there anywhere you need an extra set of hands tomorrow?"

"I'll let you know at breakfast." Minerva stood, casting a glance at the other occupants. "Take care of yourself, Hermione."

"I will," Hermione responded with a nod. She turned her attention back to her food, unable to stop bouncing her leg up and down. She was anxious because part of her was excited to talk to Bellatrix- she didn't really understand why- and the other part of her was expecting the ghost to bail. Truthfully, she wasn't sure which outcome was preferable.

Dinner was an uncharacteristically rushed affair for her and she garnered several inquisitive glances as she left. She responded by pulling her hood up, putting her head down, and shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans as she walked. Her breaths started coming faster, the signature tightness of her chest setting in again. She tried to push past the feeling and forced herself to keep walking but by the time she made it to the seventh floor, her vision was spotty and she was dizzy. As much as she wanted to keep pushing past it, it was harder and harder to ignore. Giving in, she let her shoulders fall back until they met the stone wall. She let it support her as she sucked in air to eliminate the icy grip squeezing her lungs. Her hair framed her face and she ran a hand through it, tilting her head back until it hit the cold stone. Her eyes closed and she felt sobs building despite her attempts to push it down. That was how Bellatrix found the brunette witch as she was making her way to meet Hermione, and if she had a beating heart, she was certain it would clench in empathy.

"Hermione?" she asked softly, drifting closer.

A strangled sob mixed with a gasp as Hermione's head whipped toward the source. "I'm fine."

Bellatrix folded her arms across her chest, raising a brow and smirking slightly. "Sure you are, that's why you're trying to push down your tears in an empty hallway."

Hermione couldn't hold in the slight chuckle at Bellatrix's statement. "You got me."

"I've been there," Bellatrix admitted, her expression softening, "It isn't easy but you don't have to do it alone."

"This is pretty new for me. It only just started after..." Hermione trailed off, unsure if she should finish her thought aloud.

She was surprised by the calm nod she received. "Traumatic experiences tend to do that. Sometimes it doesn't sink in until after."

Hermione dropped her gaze to the floor before bringing it back up. "How did you deal with it?"

Bellatrix floated closer to her, gesturing to the appearing doors of the Room of Requirement. "I practiced. It helped me feel powerful and in control. And it forced me to breathe."

"That explains why you're so good." Hermione walked beside Bellatrix as she floated toward the doors, feeling a little better than she did before.

"I could teach you," Bellatrix offered before floating through the door.

Hermione pushed it open, finding it set up exactly as it was when she first stumbled across Bellatrix. "I can't tell if you're being serious or not."

"I am," she assured, gesturing to the dummy, "I think it'll be good for you."

Uncertainly, she drew her wand and faced the dummy, only for Bellatrix to immediately offer corrections.

"If you take a more neutral stance, you'll be able to react faster. Planting yourself in place, especially while you attack, makes you an easy target and doesn't have the benefit of being a more powerful strike." Bellatrix let her feet touch the ground, demonstrating a few possibilities."

Hermione studied her closely, repositioning so her feet were their normal distance apart and balancing more on the balls of her feet. "Like this?"

"Perfect," Bellatrix complimented.

Hermione felt a smile begin to form on her face and her cheeks grow a little warm. With a flourish of her wand, she sent a spell at the dummy, causing its arms to pinwheel as it rolled back.

"Not bad," she complimented, "But if you make the action smaller, you'll lose less energy in the long run and your spells will be more accurate."

She tried again, reducing the motion of her wand arm as best she could.

"Better," Bellatrix nodded, "Remember not to sink into your feet. Stay light."

"Right," Hermione said, adjusting her grip on her wand.

Hermione had thought that she had become a halfway decent duelist from her time fighting, but working with Bellatrix made her rethink that. There were so many little things to consider, things she had often overlooked because she didn't have the experience and didn't know better. It was different than she expected, having Bellatrix teach her. She was surprisingly gentle in her corrections and genuine with her praise. She was patient, even, something Hermione had never considered Bellatrix to be. Hermione had never been properly taught how to duel, now that she thought about it, it was mostly just sticking with what worked. She never realized all the things she did that made her more vulnerable or likely to get hurt.

It had become their routine to practice after dinner and Hermione found she had been sleeping better. Between repairs and dueling, she was exhausted by the time her body hit the bed, too exhausted to have any nightmares. Talking with the ghostly woman was therapeutic in ways she didn't know she needed. She was able to directly confront the source of her deepest trauma without consequence, and Bellatrix encouraged her to do so in any way she needed. It was intense at first but had become much tamer as the weeks wore on. She had never imagined that she would be close to a ghost, let alone the ghost of a woman who had committed horrible deeds, but for some reason, they were incredibly compatible. Hermione even considered Bellatrix a friend.

"You've gotten much better." Bellatrix picked her feet off the ground, leaning back into the air.

Hermione observed her quietly, questions burning in her mind before she finally blurted, "What does that feel like?"

"It's like..." Bellatrix paused, thinking of how best to describe it, "It's like being underwater, but lighter. It's the moment where you reach the peak of a jump, right before you start falling back down. It's what I imagine freedom would always feel like."

Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning her back against the wall. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there are different...expectations," at this, Bellatrix made a face and turned so her stomach was facing the ground, "For pureblood witches. We are born, we go to school, we are told who to marry, we marry, and then we do whatever our husband tells us. Usually, we're resigned to a fate of popping out babies. I thought I was lucky that I was chosen for something more. I never had to tend to wifely duties and I thought that was freedom but my choices were still always made for me by someone else. Most of them, anyway."

"You've never done something just to do it?"

Bellatrix pursed her lips, scrunching her face. "I did once, but the consequences were...extreme."

Hermione debated whether or not to ask her next question, chewing her lip until her curiosity won. "Why didn't you leave? Like Andy did?"

The specter stilled, fixing Hermione with a gaze she didn't quite recognize, causing her to pull her knees to her chest. "Because I was the only thing separating her from my father. She got her freedom because I sacrificed the last of mine."

A lump formed in Hermione's throat and she forced it down, continuing her questioning carefully. "I thought you- I thought you hated her?"

"Not at first," Bellatrix admitted, "But as time wore on, I grew bitter and it festered inside of me. It was my choice to protect Andromeda, she didn't make me, she didn't ask me to, but I grew to resent her for it."

"Would you do it again? If you could go back?" Hermione let her legs slide down so they were extended in front of her.

Bellatrix opened her mouth but hesitated just before she answered. "I want to say I would, but I don't know."

"Did you do everything yourself?" Hermione felt the stirrings of an idea and she wasn't sure if it was possible, but it made her feel more normal than she had felt in a long time.

"Not always. Sometimes my sisters were there but most of the time I kept it from them." Bellatrix recognized the glint in Hermione's eyes, having seen it reflected in the mirror on numerous occasions.

Hermione chewed her lip, thoughtfully, weighing the pros and cons of saying what she was thinking. Bellatrix waited patiently, placing her feet back on the ground and sitting opposite Hermione.

"What if I could go back and undo it all?"

"Hermione-"

"I'm serious. If I can go back, I can change the outcome. You might never even become a Death Eater!" The excitement her idea caused made her stand up and pace the room, gesturing wildly. She didn't notice how Bellatrix's expression changed in the process of her speaking.

"Hermione!" she finally yelled, stopping the brunette in her tracks with the force of it.

She immediately sank back into a cross-legged position, shame coloring her cheeks red. "Sorry, I got carried away."

"It's a nice thought, don't get me wrong. I just don't think it's feasible," Bellatrix mumbled, focusing on the floor.

"That's the thing, I think it is. I was in the library a few days ago and I stumbled across a book that was opened to an amplification potion designed for objects. With that potion, a Time-Turner, and a little bit of luck, I think I could do it." Hermione spoke with such conviction that Bellatrix actually did a double-take.

Bellatrix gave her an incredulous look. "Where are you going to get a Time-Turner?"

Hermione chewed her lip in an attempt to disguise the smile on her face. "I have Minerva's. I knicked it before the battle and put it in my bag and completely forgot about it."

"You stole from Minerva?" Bellatrix asked, her jaw falling open, "You're joking!"

A laugh bubbled out of Hermione's chest and she shook her head back and forth vigorously. "I'm not! It's in my room."

"Morgana's tits!" she howled in laughter, nearly falling backward, "And you're supposed to be the good one!"

Their laughter subsided slowly, Hermione having to wipe tears from her eyes as she clutched her abdomen. "Merlin, I don't remember the last time I laughed like that."

Bellatrix found herself smiling stupidly at the younger witch as she said, "I can't either."

"So," Hermione said, shifting back to the topic at hand, "What do you say?"

"Yes," she breathed, the freedom to decide her fate making her smile widen, "I say yes."

Brewing the amplification potion was easier than Hermione thought it would be. Of course, she couldn't say for certain if it would work, but it was worth a try. Bellatrix floated across from her, eyeing the Gryffindor colors with slight distaste. Hermione was cross-legged on a bed in the Room of Requirement, the potion in one hand, and the Time-Turner in the other. Her heart fluttered nervously as her eyes darted back and forth between the objects in her hands and the ghost.

"Here goes everything," Hermione muttered, pulling out the stopper with her teeth.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Bellatrix asked, forcing her attention away from the red and gold.

Hermione nodded, shifting on the bed as she gently began pouring the potion over the Time-Turner. They watched with bated breath as she poured it, drop-by-drop until there was nothing left. The sand inside had taken on a purplish glow, casting strange shadows as Hermione secured the chain around her neck.

"Wish me luck?" she asked, her hand hovering over the necklace.

"The dark knight rides at dawn," Bellatrix whispered, "Good luck, Hermione."

When no explanation came, Hermione began turning it backward, counting each turn as a single year, hoping her calculations were at least close enough to land her in the right decade. It was a struggle not to look up at Bellatrix while she counted. 19. 20. Hermione forced her hand to stop shaking and willed her breathing to be even. 27. 28. She couldn't stop her eyes from flicking up for a moment, even as she continued turning. 31. 32. The world rushed past her as she let her hand fall. She had just barely caught Bellatrix's wave goodbye before everything started moving past her so fast she was starting to get dizzy. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, focusing her mind on the task of breathing properly to keep her thoughts from wandering. When she opened her eyes, nothing felt different except the fact that Bellatrix's ghost wasn't there. Hermione had no way of knowing if she was finished moving back in time, but the glow of the sand had dimmed steadily. There was very little light left and it continued to dim as Hermione watched until the normally vibrant sand was a dull grey.

The Room of Requirement was still the same for her, complete with a trunk that she presumed was empty until she stubbed her toe on it. She opened it, after swearing its existence, to find a uniform that was similar to hers but in an older fashion. The only thing missing was a house tie. Instead, she was left with the tie first-years arrived in. Looking around, Hermione shrugged to herself, changing into the clothes so she didn't stand out too much. She stored the clothes she had been wearing in the trunk, casting a nervous look around the room before emerging into the seventh-floor corridor.

In retrospect, she should've known better than to think the change would be apparent. The building hadn't changed at all in the time she had attended Hogwarts, and it appeared that even decades were no exception. Her best option was to go straight to the Headmaster's office, assuming it was a Headmaster, and assuming that Headmaster was Dumbledore. Merlin, she hoped her calculations were accurate. She could feel the beginnings of a panic attack, but she deliberately focused on her breathing as she walked, reminding herself that she could handle whatever situation she got herself into.

Hermione was expecting to have to guess the password to the Headmaster's office, but to her relieved surprise, she ended up bumping into Dumbledore just outside of it. He, for his part, did not seem at all surprised to see her, which didn't surprise her. He always seemed to have an otherworldly knowledge of things and she had learned not to ask too many questions because she was only ever left with more.

"Professor," she blurted, "I was wondering if I could have a word?"

He eyed her with twinkling blue eyes and she could almost cry at how much she had missed him. "Yes, I think that would be most enlightening, Miss?"

"Granger, sir," she provided, "Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Hermione Granger, follow me." He uttered the password to his office, revealing the staircase that led upward.

Hermione followed him dutifully, tears springing to her eyes at seeing his office exactly as it had always been. She struggled to keep her emotions under wraps, she was already breaking several rules of time travel just by being here.

"Professor, I know this might be a strange request, but could you tell me what year it is?" she asked as she wandered over to Fawkes, stroking his feathers gently.

He regarded her with a curious expression but complied easily. "It's 1966. The welcome feast is tomorrow. I see you are well-acquainted with Phoenixes."

"Fawkes has been very helpful," she said, casting him a sideways glance.

"He is a loyal creature, indeed. So, what is it you wish to tell me?" He gestured to a chair near where she was standing.

Hermione sat down, choosing her words carefully. "Professor, I-I am a Hogwarts student, or rather, I will be in about 25 years."

"I see. Well, what year are you?"

"That's where it gets a little difficult. I was supposed to have finished but circumstances delayed that so I would be a seventh-year a year later than I should've been one." Hermione paused, letting him soak in the information. "However, I have no proof of this considering I, technically, don't exist yet."

"Hmm. It seems to me that you are too young to be a seventh-year. How did you manage to travel back?" he asked, taking it in stride.

Hermione hesitated, pulling the Time-Turner out from under her shirt. "I used an amplification potion on the sands of this Time-Turner."

"Interesting. May I?" He gestured to the necklace with a hand that was nowhere near as wrinkled as she was used to.

"Of course!" she said, rushing to pull it over her head and pass it to him, "It's possible there were unforeseen effects on myself. I used one in my third year and it made me about eight months older."

His eyes darted between the small inscription on one of the wheels of the Time-Turner and Hermione. "I believe you, and that can easily be resolved with a simple age spell. That way, we can place you in the appropriate year so as not to draw any attention, and then we can get you sorted into your house."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione breathed, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders.

With a simple flick of his wand, Dumbledore revealed Hermione's age in floating white numbers. "Fifteen. So, you will be placed with the other sixth-years. I do hope this is okay, since you have already completed this year."

"I haven't really had a normal year at Hogwarts since I started, and it's only one year. I'm just glad you believe me," Hermione said, waving off his apology.

"I have no reason not to, considering the Time-Turner in your possession belongs to Professor McGonagall, and as it happens, I happen to be holding onto hers for the time being," he lifted the necklace out of his robes, the other resting in his hand, "So, that just leaves being sorted. I will let you choose if you would rather do it now or at the ceremony tomorrow."

"I'd rather get it over with," she admitted.

He nodded with a smile, rising to grab the hat and place it on her head. He also took the opportunity to return the Time-Turner to her.

"Interesting," the hat mused, "So much to see, so much to work with. You've led quite an exciting life, perfectly suited for Gryffindor as when you were first sorted, yet with a thirst for knowledge befitting any Ravenclaw, a loyalty matching that of any Hufflepuff, and an unappreciated cleverness to rival any Slytherin. Quite the trouble you are, eh? Any house I put you in will reap the reward and you would not be out of place anywhere."

"Slytherin," she said, her eyes darting to Dumbledore before flicking back up to the hat.

"Hmmm, very well. Slytherin!"

The hat went limp on her head and she removed it, handing it to Dumbledore. "An interesting choice."

"I was a Gryffindor in my original timeline. I think it's time to experience the other side of the coin," she explained, which was not technically a lie.

"Ahh," he breathed with an understanding smile, "Very few people acknowledge that they are very similar."

"It took me a while to see it," she admitted.

He nodded. "I will take care of your paperwork and have it placed in the Ministry. I have no doubt you are an elite student, so I will be giving you the same schedule as our top sixth-year, just to make things a little more interesting for her and easy for me. As you will not be requiring a tour, I think all that's left is to introduce you to the Slytherin Prefect. I'll take care of books and uniforms, you'll have them by dinnertime tonight."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione beamed, allowing herself to relax into her chair.

"Just between us, Miss Granger, you might want to use an alias," he suggested.

"Actually, since there's no way for me to return to my time, this timeline will overwrite itself as if it always proceeded this way, so I won't exist in this timeline's future," she said.

He smiled with a twinkle in his eyes. "Very well, I'll take you to the dungeons and introduce you to the Black sisters."

"Give it back, Andy!" Narcissa yelled, chasing her sister in circles around the Common Room.

Andromeda just laughed, trying to ignore the dizziness creeping into her awareness. "You'll have to catch me first, Cissy!"

Bellatrix brought a hand to her temple, her eye twitching in annoyance. She loved her sisters, but they were incredibly rambunctious at times. All she wanted was some peace while she could still get it. That was the point of arriving at school a week early. Her sisters fell blessedly quiet and Bellatrix sighed in relief until the two sets of footsteps registered in her mind. Her eyes snapped up to meet warm brown ones belonging to a girl she didn't recognize.

"Hermione, this is Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix Black," Dumbledore said, gesturing to each of them and earning a small wave in return, "Narcissa, Andromeda, Bellatrix, this is Hermione. She's a transfer student. Hermione, you and Bellatrix will be rooming together, she's also the Prefect, so if you have any questions, she can help you."

The four girls eyed each other with varying degrees of interest and Dumbledore decided to take his leave. Narcissa took the opportunity to snatch her plush bear out of Andromeda's hands, plopping on the couch next to Bellatrix and busying herself with fixing its fur. Andromeda shot Narcissa a rude glance, plopping on the other side of Bellatrix with a sigh, examining her nails. Bellatrix continued to stare deep into brown pools which matched her gaze in intensity.

"Nice to meet you," she finally said, leaving her sisters on the couch and stretching her hand out to Hermione.

Hermione's lips twitched upward as she placed her hand in Bellatrix's giving it a firm shake. "And you."

Bellatrix glanced back at her sisters, giving them pointed looks until they muttered similar statements.

"Sorry about them, they usually have better manners," Bellatrix said, quickly remembering her hand was still in Hermione's and pulling it back.

Hermione waved off the apology, her lips forming into a smirk. "I'm sure they do."

Ruby lips twitched in amusement. "You would think they would."

"You would hope they do," Hermione countered.

"They are sitting right here," Andromeda said, throwing her hands up in annoyance.

"Then participate," Hermione and Bellatrix chorused.

They shared an amused look as Narcissa and Andromeda looked at each other. Narcissa shrugged, turning her attention back to her bear. Andromeda huffed, leaning back into the couch. Bellatrix returned to her spot between them, resting her feet on the table. Hermione sat across from them, observing the three sisters together for the first time. They were different than the ones she had met, Narcissa was shy, Andy was standoffish, and Bellatrix was...intrigued.

"So, where did you transfer from?" Andromeda asked.

"I had private tutors but my parents thought it would be beneficial if I spent more time around people my age," Hermione easily lied, throwing in an eye roll for good measure.

"Are you a pureblood, then?" Andromeda asked, grunting when Bellatrix's sharp elbow dug into her ribs.

She glared at her sister before turning to Hermione. "You don't have to answer that."

"I'm muggleborn," Hermione answered anyway, the fingers of her left hand twitching, "But if that's an issue for you, I won't bother you."

"It's not an issue unless our father finds out," Narcissa spoke up.

"Father doesn't have to find out," Bellatrix said sharply, "And he won't. No one will tell because they'll be guilty of the same thing as us."

"I'm sorry," Andromeda said, meeting Hermione's gaze with a sincere expression, "It's hard to move away from that mindset sometimes."

"Trust me, I understand," Hermione muttered, her eyes darting to her left arm and back up to find Bellatrix watching her closely.

They descended into an awkward silence after that. None of them moved from the room, continuing to sit and keep to themselves. Hermione had slung her legs over one arm of the chair so she was facing the lake, watching the creatures swim past. She could feel Bellatrix's dark eyes studying her, trying to stare deep enough to reveal all her secrets. It satisfied Hermione that she was enough of a puzzle for Bellatrix to be intrigued by her, it would make it easier to develop a friendship. Though, if she had befriended her after she became a ghost, there wasn't a reason she could think of that she wouldn't befriend her now. So far, Bellatrix seemed a lot like her ghost was. She also knew she could be friends with Andromeda seeing as they had hit it off when they met in the Order. Narcissa was the only Black sister that she hadn't actually developed a relationship with, but she hoped that she would still be able to. So far, things were looking good for her.