Following a couple of hours of restless pacing within the small room, Hermione decided to contact Headmaster Armando Dippet at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, whose name she had obviously learned from Hogwarts: A History.

She simply could not be stuck in the past and unemployed at the same damn time. What if she ran out of money and got into trouble with loan sharks who killed her for being unable to return their money- or worse, sell her like she had read on those silly little fan fiction sites!

Even in a less dramatic series of events, she would require access to the world's greatest library (in Hermione's humble opinion), the Hogwarts Library.

While it may be an exaggeration, it was truly Hermione's greateat comfort for nothing could beat home; and Hogwarts will always be home.

Hermione ran downstairs to talk to the barkeep in order to extend her stay by 10 more days, paying him what she owed before she head back up in order to decide what her plan of action should be exactly. If only Harry, Ron or even Draco had been here they would have expertly gotten things done with zero brain power. Act first then think of the consequences.

Frankly, even if everything worked out with the school, what would Hermione do for the next 9 months before the new semester began? Hermione scowled with distaste, ignoring the gnawing sensation in her stomach.

Sitting on the ground with her beaded bag in front of her, Hermione pulled out some spare parchment, a quill and a pot of ink, before drafting her letter.

Dear Headmaster,

I am Hermione Jean Victoria, a war orphan. Due to some reasons which may be unwise to write about, I am requesting enrolment at your school. All I can over a letter say is- I have been abandoned in an unknown country, and have only been schooled through Sixth Year, so I do not have the necessary credentials to find a stable job.

I know it may seem too much to ask for, but please consider may request. Hoping to hear back from you soon,

- HJV

Hermione stared at the parchment for a moment. It would've made more sense if she changed her last name, but she prided herself on being a Granger and all she had accomplished under the name of Granger.

Frowning, Hermione rewrote the introduction:

I am Hermione Jean Granger.

Perfect.

•••

Over a week had passed by before Hermione heard back from the Headmaster. Honestly, she would not have thought it was weird had she not heard back from him at all given the nature of her vague letter, but she was grateful that he took the time to do so nonetheless.

She opened the letter carefully, with the familiar Hogwarts crest facing her, she felt a sort of warm excitement fill her as it had when she was eleven and Professor McGonagall visited to give Hermione her letter and introduced her to the Wizarding World. Hermione's fingers trembled slightly.

Dear Miss Granger,

We here at Hogwart's would be most pleased to take in a war-orphan. We hope to see your skills in person.

To help sort through all the details sooner, we request you come to Hogwarts on the morning on the 25th of December, if that is alright with you. We will contact you regarding the means of arrival before the date.

Along with this letter, you will find the Hogwarts Support Fund, as well as a list of materials you will need through the upcoming school year.

Wishing you the best,

Armando Dippet.

Hermione nearly squealed from excitement, as she unattached the other things tied to the owl's leg. Observing silently as the owl flew away, Hermione (her own personal party-pooper) started wondering what her plan of action ought to be. How would she possibly evade Tom Riddle throughout her stay in 1944?

She really hoped she could find a way out of the past without drawing any attention to herself.

Hermione brought out her own coin purse. She had a lot to her name as it was, and with her experience of robbing the wizarding bank, she had made a habit of carrying her things in a purse with an undetectable extension charm. Including her money.

The ministry had compensated, and awarded, her quite generously, so she was quite set.

Regardless of this, the Hogwarts fund wasn't unappreciated, as she was glad they had accepted her despite her horribly dubious letter. Unless Grindelwald was posing to be the Headmaster, which is blasphemy.

Besides, Hermione did not fear Grindelwald one bit. Not only was he going to be defeated in the coming months, but he was also several times less competent than Voldemort. Not that she was complimenting the future Dark Lord, he was still a pain in the arse.

Buzzing with excitement, Hermione head out to the marketplace, wanting to finally get her shopping done. This time, without the harsh stares and rude people. Life was good, perhaps.

As she passed through the magical brick wall, she immediately bumped into a tall, slender man.

"I apologise," Hermione mumbled, walking sideways to walk around him.

"I'm sorry, it was my mistake," his rich voice cut in. Hermione scoffed inwardly, damn right it was. But as she was in a benevolent mood, Hermione nodded, without looking at the man, and walked off wondering where to start.

Naturally, after three minutes of contemplation (and Hermione insists she gave all other options a fair chance too), Hermione walked into Flourish and Blotts.

Oh the times when she would be murdered just for browsing through books, Hermione reminisced.

She glanced at the list of books she needed, and met quite a number of of unfamiliar names. So at least she would not be studying under the curriculum she had already finished in her own time, back in the future.

Once again, Hermione was intent on not asking anyone for help, so she could browse in peace (and also get some books for herself without anyone's nose in her business). She started from the far back end of the store, letting her fingers run over the spines of different books. Hermione's eyes practically glittered as she saw the books, some of which would end up getting pulled back in the coming years thus becoming limited edition books.

Hermione's eyes jumped from tome to tome, scanning the titles on time travel such as Achieving Time Travelling! and Ancestral Time Travel. Most were what if sort of books, more questions than answers. With a frown, Hermione pulled away from the shelf and started gathering her schoolbooks instead.

At the checkout, she found herself side by side with a wizard talking to the owner, Madam Villanelle. She risked a quick glance and instantly felt her mouth go dry.

The man was tall, about half a head taller than Hermione. He had a slender figure, but body aside his facial proportions were rather pleasing to the eyes. He had pale unblemished skin, and big cat-like eyes. He had a chiselled jaw, but not ridiculously so, along with full lips. Even his hair was great, the only downside being that it was the signature Malfoy-blond hair.

"You know, pictures last longer," his voice broke the silence, senior citizen Malfoy grinned at her. Hermione flushed, "I was not staring." She mumbled, placing her books upon the counter. Honestly with an argument as well thought as Hermione's, she would not have been able to convince even herself of her lie.

"Oh, it's you," he spoke, eyes glittering, "I apologise again for this morning." Hermione cleared her throat and turned to him, "It's alright, really." She turned towards Madam Villanelle.

"That will be 6 Galleons, 11 Sickles and 5 Knuts my dear," Hermione handed over the proper amount, before grabbing the bag Madam Villanelle handed over to her.

"I must get going, I have much else that I need to complete," she bade the man goodbye, trying to scurry away.

"No, seriously, it was horrid of be to be a bother to a witch as wonderful as you," Senior Senior Malfoy winked, his big strides catching up to Hermione in no time.

He was cute, Hermione had to admit, but apparently a right pain in the ass.

Hermione huffed, stopping to look at the man that towered over her. "And I honestly forgive you for your sin. Now shoo," she snapped.

Malfoy held a hand to his chest in mock-pain.

"Only if you allow me to-"

"I will literally hex you to the next century if you do not run along." Hermione's eyes glinted dangerously. She was civil with Draco Malfoy not Grandpa Malfoy.

Pouting, Old Malfoy stopped walking, allowing Hermione get far away from him.

Not long after, Hermione had nearly completed most of her shopping. Now requiring sanitary items and clothing to help her fit in 1944.

So she walked into Madam Malkins, she offhandedly pondering where she should begin for her search of housing.

"What may I help you with?" One of the workers squeaked. She looked an awful lot like the Fat Lady's portrait.

"I'm looking for generic Hogwarts school robes," she requested. The lady hummed, "which house would you like that for, dear?" Hermione flushed a little, "I haven't been sorted yet. Plain ones are fine."

"Oww, Mum she's pinching me," whined a male voice from the other corner of the room, somewhere behind the racks. A second later, a loud thwack resounded as well, Hermione winced.

"Shut your trap, Malfoy. You little crybaby." Grunted a different man, his voice teasing. Hermione sniggered, of course it would be a Malfoy crying for mummy.

"Theo," Malfoy dramatically cried, "it was supposed to be me and you against the world," Malfoy sobbed. Hermione rolled her eyes, waiting for the employee to come back and take her size.

As Hermione waited on, she heard a voice Hermione assumed was either of the two boys' parent scold the boys, "Theo, Abraxas, don't give Madam Malkin a hard time." Hermione could only imagine the snooty look on her face.

Perhaps Hermione was a little prejudiced, and incredibly biased.

Immediately, she shook her head, she was now civil with Draco Malfoy. He had apologised and had shown his repentance. He was even Head Boy with Hermione for the coming year! A dull ache formed in Hermione's chest, as the lady came back to her, measuring tape hovering by her side, "may I?" She asked politely. Hermione nodded, raising her arms.

With a swish of the witch's wand, the measuring tape tightened itself around Hermione's body, which the witch scribbled down quickly. She disappeared as she finished, heading to the back room. Hermione sighed, playing with her hands, eyes downcast.

In a few short moments, the witch came back holding two sets of robes. "Will that be all, dear?" Hermione nodded mutely.

As the kind witch requested, Hermione handed her 2 Galleons and 7 Sickles, taking her bags with a mumbled 'thanks', wanting nothing more to retreat into her room at the Leaky Cauldron.

She wanted to go home. She had been through enough already, in her own opinion. She did not care if it was biased, she was done.

•••

Christmas rolled by quickly. As Headmaster Dippet had said, Hermione received a letter with a time and location on an otherwise empty piece of parchment just days beforehand.

25th December, 1944

6am at The Leaky Cauldron

-AD

Hermione assumed whoever would be meeting her here with side along apparate near Hogwarts given that it would be the most efficient method of travel.

"Miss Granger?" A familiar voice called out, his tone formal. The tiny hair on the back of Hermione's neck stood on its ends as she turned around, "yes?" She squeaked.

Infront of her stood Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore as a middle-aged man in his full glory, and in bright purple robes. He would be a war hero soon. He would be the wizarding worlds hero. Today, however, he was just a badly dressed means of transportation for Hermione. Hermione felt tears prick at her eyes, tears of pent up anger and betrayal. She blinked them away furiously.

"Headmaster Dippet sent me to pick you up." He informed her, peering down at her through his familiar half-moon spectacles. Hermione nodded, unsure of what to say.

Hermione had decided to dress in school robes at the last minute, deciding she would look and feel far too out of place otherwise. Her beaded bag and wand were stuffed securely into the inside compartment of her robes, which she pulled over herself tighter under Dumbledore's scrutiny. Dumbledore cleared his throat, offering Hermione a hand, "shall we?" He asked. Hermione remained muted.

Hermione stood up from her seat and placed a hand on the Professors upper arm before the familiar sensation of being passed through narrow tubes overtook her.

As soon as Hermione regained her footing, she looked up to see the familiar sight of Hogsmeade, where thick snow layered over the grounds. Dumbledore walked ahead soundlessly, and Hermione followed suit, watching the perfection in the snow become increasingly imperfect.

Hermione was beginning to get jittery. She regretted contacting the school and regretted coming here even more. She did not think her actions through well enough.

She had been so worried and afraid for herself, she had completely disregarded what certain things would mean for the future.

If she just shut up and moved to some far away country, she had enough gold to spend a lifetime.

Just as she decided to leave, Headmaster Dippet popped into sight. He was a short, pudgy man clad in sleek black robes. His balding head of hair glimmered under the sunlight. But one look at his face and Hermione could tell he was prideful- yet he looked wise, with his short cropped white beard and tired old eyes.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," the man greeted, he looked cheerful. Hermione gave the man a short tight lipped smile. Here she was, at her only connection to home, trying to turn back and live the life of a hermit. No, that would not do. Hermione Granger was destined to achieve great things, her parents had always hoped for it.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster," Hermione said pleasantly. Hermione had fit in quite easily into 1944. She dressed like any modest witch, and had always carried herself to best show her fierce qualities.

"Come on inside," the old man beckoned her towards the door.

Dumbledore seemed to be a little more weary of Hermione, glancing at her every couple of minutes.

Hermione was not sure if it was because of the occlumency walls Hermione was holding up, because she had hardly done anything for him to be suspicious.

The corridors of Hogwarts were quite empty as the three walked towards the Headmasters office, but probably due to it being early on a Christmas morning.

"I assume you have already purchased everything that you will require for your seventh year?" Headmaster Dippet asked politely, conversing all the way up to the gargoyle statue which Hermione knew led up to his office.

"Password." Dippet said to the gargoyle with a smile etched on his face. Hermione craned her neck to look at the Headmaster, trying to ensure she heard right.

As the spiral bound staircase came forth and the gargoyle moved upwards, Dippet quickly got onto the first step so as to be elavated by the staircase itself. Hermione clambered on clumsily after the Headmaster. "We have much to talk about, Miss Granger." Dippet clapped his hands together.

The man sure was eccentric. In his own personal way not the I-raise-my-students-as-pigs-for-slaughter kind (looking at you, Dumbledore) but more of the drunk uncle at a family barbecue kind.

Hermione followed Headmaster Dippet into his office, thinking of her own time in there, but the nostalgia did not come to her. His office was decorated differently, the exact opposite of what Dumbledore's had been. In comparison, Dumbledore's office had been a shitfest, as if a crow had spent a life time aging there, collecting shiny things and bringing chaos to its order.

Dippet's office on the other hand was more sleek, closer to fitting the minimalistic approach the year 2000 had taken to decor than the wishy-washy too much wallpaper 1944 look. Dippet had a single leather couch in the bottom area, with a vast library of old, worn out tomes on the shelves surrounding it.

Dumbledore stalked up the stairs behind Hermione, looking a little dazed. "Take a seat, Miss Granger," Dippet had not let go of his kind smile. Hermione took a seat on the leather couch, hands clasped together. Dumbledore took to standing as Headmaster Dippet conjured a couch for himself, facing Hermione.

"Excuse us for our insensitivity but if you are alright with it, we would like to hear of your past," Dippet said, a more serene look on his face now.

Hermione swallowed, Dumbledore was a legilimens. She could not outright lie, she would simply have to swindle the truth to fit her needs. "I will actually be turning 18, in September," she took a deep breath trying to get her story straight, "I am a little late to the school-year because this last year, I was on the run alongside two friends. The Dark Lord had been seeking us. As per the adults around us, it was also our best chance as survival." Hermione swallowed, trying to subdue the ache in her chest.

"I had to obliviated my parents," her voice cracked, unnoticeably so, "but despite my attempt, they are no longer here with me." Hermione hoped any of this made sense, "these adults essentially made us go on this man-hunt for information they were unable to retrieve. But since, they are no longer here. No longer supporting me. I know this may be quite unbelievable, but because of this I wish to complete my schooling."

Hermione's lie seemed to have piqued Dumbledore's interest, as he tried probing Hermione's occlumency walls gently without her notice- not that it worked of course.

Dippet seemed to notice the shift in the man's stance too, "could you tell us how you have contributed?" Oh shit.

"Um, well." Hermione played with her fingers, "While I am sworn to secrecy, I can tell you that he is seeking immortality in a sense." Dumbledore went rigid.

"Headmaster, I must excuse myself." Dippet looking concerned for the Professor, but nodded nonetheless. Whilst Dumbledore practically made a run for the door, Hermione watched Dippet nervously, hoping her lie was good enough. At least Dippet wasn't a legilimens. She could lie all she'd like now.

After a long uncomfortable silence engulfed them, Dippet cleared his throat, "well, we ought to get you sorted. Unless you would like to be sorted in the Great Hall?" He inquired. Hermione shook her head quickly, "I do not want to be put under the attention," she laughed awkwardly.

Dippet nodded, "understandable, dear. accio sorting hat!" He summoned. As Dippet rose from his seat and approached Hermione, she felt her feet go cold.

Why am I nervous? I've done this before and I semi know what it will be. Hermione tried reasoning with herself, but in vain as Dippet placed the sorting hat over her head and a chill washed through her body.

What do we have here, Hogwarts alumni!

The sorting hats voice boomed in her head.

I haven't completed my 7th year yet Hermione mused. The sorting hat continued as if Hermione had never spoken, You have accomplished much throughout the years, Hermione Granger. The life you have led thus far is truly extraordinary! You have shown the bravery of a true Gryffindor, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff and the intelligence fit of a Ravenclaw, the hat continued.

Hermione smirked, that's right. Anything but the nasty Slytherin qualities, she gloated, before biting down on her tongue. Right.

Civil with Malfoy. Slytherin slander bad.

The hats voice laughed in her head,

Miss Granger you have ambition greater than any Slytherin I have met in decades. Hermione scowled inwardly, and you are nothing less than cunning. The things you have done in order to defeat Voldemort are nothing short of it! Even in this day and age, one that does not belong to you, you are present at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in order to fully realise your ambitions.

Hermione frowned, what do you mean fully realise?

The hat laughed mirthfully, I cannot tell you that.

Well what are you gonna do, put me in Slytherin? Hermione sniggered inwardly, you know as well as I that I do not fill the social 'requirements' for Slytherin

The hat considered this for a moment, but has it not been your ambition to out-do the societal norm? So to reach the true heights of your ambition it must be- "SLYTHERIN" the hat yelled. Immediately, the Hogwarts crest on Hermione's uniform robes transfigured into the Slytherin crest. Hermione had to grind her teeth to prevent her jaw from falling open.

Dippet clapped delightedly as Hermione rigidly pulled off the hat and handed it back to him. "Don't look so glum! The Slytherins are wonderful, this particular batch will achieve great things." He spoke gleefully. Hermione suspected Armando Dippet was a Slytherin-alumnus.

"What subjects did you take for your OWLs?" Dippet asked, casting the hat back to its original place.

Hermione cleared her throat, trying to gather her bearings, "I received 10 O's and 1 E. My subjects were transfiguration, charms, ancient runes, arithmancy, potions, history of magic, defence against the dark arts, astronomy, herbology and care of magical creatures. I received an E in defence against the dark arts." Hermione responded, her response prompt. Dippet cleared his throat, eyebrows raised.

"Those are wonderful results," he said, sounding a little unconvinced. "What subjects would you like to take for your NEWTs?"

"All my OWLs subjects," Hermione clarified immediately.

Dippet nodded, "I will let your Head of House, Professor Horace Slughorn, know of your subject choices." Hermione nodded numbly.

"If that is all, Headmaster." Hermione bowed her head in respect.

Dippet made a tutting noise, "actually, after learning of your personal affiliations with Grindelwald, I am concerned of your living arrangements. Do you have any accommodations?" He inquired politely.

Hermione shifted nervously in her seat, "actually, I've been staying at the Leaky Cauldron since my first letter to you. I was going to look around some wizarding communities and perhaps rent a place until the new school year began..." Hermione trailed off.

Dippet cleared his throat, "well, seeing the circumstances call for it, I assume it would be best if you re-do your sixth year here at Hogwarts. Perhaps catch up to the curriculum? Afterall, there is no place safer than Hogwarts." He mused. Hermione swallowed, unsure of what to say. Dippet continued, "don't worry, we here at Hogwarts will do our utmost to provide for you. Hiding in a wizarding community may be unwise, with Grindelwald on the rise. It may be perilous."