Hermione spent the feast studiously avoiding two pairs of eyes. The first was Draco Malfoy, who she avoided out of sheer guilt. It wasn't fair that Hermione made it back, and Draco didn't. The boy's steely eyes only reminded her of the friend she lost. Plus, she was confused by his actions. Something just wasn't right about him.

The second pair of eyes she avoided were those of Severus Snape. She hadn't forgotten the legilimancy he performed at the end of last year, and she knew she would have to keep away from him as much as possible. If anyone at Hogwarts would discover her secret, it would be him. He seemed to be looking at the Gryffindor table an inordinate amount, but it could've been Hermione being more aware of his gaze.

Hermione was relieved when everyone's attention was diverted by the arrival of the new Defense professor and the Triwizard Tournament. Whispers erupted throughout the hall when they announced that Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would be visiting. It let her focus on the upcoming school year.

She had finished her summer homework at the Burrow, which had barely taken her an hour for each assignment. Hopefully, her future knowledge and writing wouldn't set any alarm bells off. More importantly, however, was the work she had to do before the end of the school year.

She supposed she could take care of the ring during spring break (she planned to be seventeen by that time, as she'd be doubling every day), but the cup was another story. This might call for help from Sirius, now that she was mostly limited to the castle.

By the time dessert appeared on the tables, the chattering had returned to a dull roar, and people started speaking of more than just the tournament. "How was your birthday, Neville?" Hermione asked, engaging the pudgy boy across from her.

"Oh, it was pretty quiet. I got a few plants, and thanks for the wand holster." She went with a theme gift this summer, because it was frankly appalling that none of them had holsters.

"I love what you've done with your hair, Hermione," gushed Lavender. "Which spells are you using?"

Hermione smiled and made herself to look self-conscious. "Oh, definitely the de-frizzing spell you showed me, sedatus, and also a curling charm I found in a book on household spells."

Pavarti leaned over, "What's that charm called, Hermione? I've never gotten my hair to stay curly before." Hermione was happy to share her charms knowledge, especially now that she'd found a captive audience. As long as she was talking about charms that involved appearance, Pavarti and Lavender were extremely engaged. She still found them slightly vapid and annoyingly giggly, but twenty-two-year-old Hermione was much more able to tolerate their childishness.

She chatted with the girls about beauty products and charms for the rest of the evening, and even Ginny joined in at one point, after they all trooped back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione was more interested in how the spells could be used in disguise (especially the breast-altering charm, which she thought she could use to look like a boy if she needed), but there was no reason the other girls needed to know that.

To her pleasure, Harry and Ron were chatting with Neville since she was otherwise engaged. She was surprised how far a little work went to making the Gryffindor's a lot more involved. Looking over at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, she could see the seeds growing there. Marietta Edgecomb would never bully Luna, at least, ever again.

The next morning, Hermione woke early, before the rest of her dorm. She slipped away to visit Poppy Pomfrey, another friend she wished she could talk to candidly. The halls were largely empty, and she found herself enjoying the walk. She had missed Hogwarts. She missed the creaky portraits, the ghosts that wandered to and fro; even passing cranky old Mrs. Norris and Filch made her reminisce over her past. She had to stop this, she realized. If she let herself live in the past, she would never be able to accomplish her goals.

Finally reaching the Hospital Wing, Hermione knocked softly on Poppy's office door. There was no reason to wake her, should she still be asleep.

She worried for no reason, however, as Poppy appeared. "Good morning, Miss Granger," she said. "I do hope you're here about your time-turning, and no ills have befallen you."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm in perfect health. I just wanted to check in, like you asked," Hermione said quickly. "I did promise."

"I appreciate that, Miss Granger. If you'll allow me, I will run a few diagnostics." Hermione nodded her assent, and Poppy started casting, moving her wand in a circle. She knew that charm – it was a pretty standard diagnostic, giving the sex, age, and general health status of the subject.

Hermione cursed herself silently. Poppy would surely notice she had aged even more than before.

"Just what I thought. You're in perfect health, girl, but you seem to have disregarded my advice from last year." Hermione lowered her head in shame (the shame was more in herself, for forgetting to hide her true age, but Poppy took it for the time turner use).

"Well, it's not illegal to use, so there's nothing I can force you to change about your actions. But I do want you reporting to me every month, like I said before."

"I can do that, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said eagerly. She didn't know quite why Poppy was being lenient with her, but she appreciated it all the same. "Every month, I promise."

"Ah, let me clarify. Every one of your months. Every thirty-one days you've lived through, I want you back in this wing. And don't try to lie to me, I'll know."

Hermione didn't argue, but that was because she had a good idea of how to get around the whole issue next time. She'd have to create a variant of the aging potion that targeted magical age, not physical, but it shouldn't be too hard. Certainly not out of her abilities.

Thoughts of this new potion kept her entertained for her first week, which passed more slowly than Hermione had imagined. She took notes in classes as dutifully as always, but they were peppered with little questions for her to research later, theories about lacewing flies or newt tails, bubortuber pus and powdered ginger. Even the occasional doodle found their way onto her notes. In short, she was bored out of her mind.

There were few classes that drew her attention in subject matter alone, but Defense Against the Dark Arts never failed to keep her on her toes. The first class, where they were introduced to the Unforgivables, was Hermione's first true challenge.

When Crouch, disguised as Moody, called Hermione up to be put under the Imperius, she was as prepared as she could be. She had meditated for an hour beforehand, making sure her occlumency shields were up to snuff, and then purposefully kept her mind so well fortified that a legilimencer would think she had gone braindead. There was nothing there for anyone to see, at least from the outside.

Hermione stepped up to the front of the classroom, keeping herself very still as she allowed Crouch-Moody to cast, "Imperio!"

Immediately, Hermione's mind felt blissfully light and floaty, like she had just stood up after too much to drink. Swaying slightly, Hermione heard Crouch in her mind saying, stand on your head.

Hermione instinctively fought to repel the intrusion, the foreign voice in her mind. But instead of continuing to fight, Hermione willingly listened to the voice the second time. Stand on your head, there's a lass. All you have to do is stand on your head.

Grudgingly, she did a headstand and held it until she felt Crouch retreat from her mind. "Excellent work, Granger. Twenty points to Gryffindor for fighting! You work on that, and you'll almost be at Potter's level." Her peers started muttering to one another, which drew a sharp reprimand from Crouch.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody's voice bellowed. The whole class jumped. "There should be more than two of you who can start to fight the Imperius. It's the only Unforgivable that can be fought by anyone, and it would truly be unforgivable for me to keep you all from learning to defend yourselves. Class dismissed."

As they left, chattering excitedly about the period, Hermione mused that Crouch actually seemed to be a decent professor. Maybe in another life, when he hadn't sold his soul to a monster of a man, Crouch could've turned out okay. She wondered what had happened to make his life go so very wrong.

After purposefully losing the battle of wills between herself and a crazed death eater, Hermione was almost happy to realize the majority of her classes would be dull and repetitive. It was her second go-rounds that really engaged her, for that was when she attended her extra electives and worked on her potion. After about two weeks, she knew it was ready.

AN: Thanks again for all the lovely reviews and feedback!