She's the Were-Woman?
September 29, 1975; Monday
The first things Hermione saw when he woke up were wide gray eyes looking directly at him. Needless to say, it was very disconcerting to wake up to your roommate gaping at you like he'd never seen anything like you. Sirius didn't look like he was going to say anything for a while, so Hermione spoke for him.
"Was there anything you needed, Black?" his voice sounded a bit higher, but that may have been his imagination. He raised an eyebrow at his roommate. It seemed as if he were frozen into that expression. Sighing, Hermione stood up and faced Sirius.
"Black?"
Sirius continued staring at him.
"Sirius?" Hermione snapped his fingers in front of his face.
No effect.
He sighed once more and with determination, did the one thing he could think of: He slapped him. The force of the hit knocked Sirius backwards into his own bed.
"Ow!" he cupped his cheek with his hand. "Bloody—owww! What was that for?"
"It looked as if you were in shock or something. What's wrong with you, Black?"
"Well, I don't know if anybody's ever told you this, but seeing a stranger in my roommate's bed isn't a daily occurrence." Sirius retorted sarcastically. "So who are you? Chronos' floozy?"
Hermione's mouth fell open at Sirius' nerve. How dare he call him a floozy?
"Excuse me?" he struggled not to yell his roommate's ear off. A second later something registered in his brain: Sirius did not recognize him. But the question was why?
Don't tell me I fell into an alternate dimension while I was asleep. He prayed fervently.
"Sorry." Sirius muttered. "I…well…I just didn't expect anyone but Chronos to be on his bed. Well, that's because it's his bed. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen you around Hogwarts before…are you a new student? And if so, what are you doing here?"
Hermione frowned at his statement. He was obviously missing something. He let his eyes wander around the room, and when they landed on the window, he finally understood. The person reflected on the mirror was not Daniel Chronos.
It was Hermione Granger, albeit with less frizzier hair.
Her jaw threatened to drop again. What happened? Slughorn predicted that the potion would wear off in about three years. So far, it had only been three weeks.
"Ummm, miss?"
Hermione's head snapped back towards Sirius' direction, and she saw him looking confused but at the same time wary.
At least he hasn't drawn his wand yet.
"Do you at least forgive me for calling you a…a floozy?" he asked. He was running chewing the inside of his cheek, a habit that he had not yet gotten rid of even after twenty years. She almost smiled at the thought.
"Ummm, of course. I know you didn't mean it." She suppressed the urge to grin as she fingered her wand. "Will you, in turn, forgive me?"
"For wha-?"
Before he could even finish his sentence, Sirius fell back into a dead faint as the stunner hit him. Lowering her wand, Hermione mentally apologized to him. She fixed his position on the bed to appear as if he had fallen asleep while reading his book. She wanted to obliviate him. Unfortunately, though, there was a risk of damaging his mind permanently, and Hermione preferred a mentally sound Sirius.
Well, as mentally sound Sirius could be.
As Hermione placed his arm across the book he was reading, she noticed a black band on his right wrist. She had noticed that wristband before, and she realized that Sirius never took it off.
A family heirloom, perhaps?
No. Sirius would sooner throw it in the garbage bin.
It was probably something one of the Marauders gave him. Hermione smiled at the thought of such close friendship.
Despite her annoyance at Sirius' attitude, Hermione couldn't help but feel a pull of friendship towards him, though she knew that any type of 'friendship' between them was highly unlikely. She had to admit, though, part of her wanting to develop a bond with Sirius was because of what she saw in the Hospital Wing. It was like Harry's nightmares, only, at least she was sure Sirius didn't have a connection with Voldemort.
She brushed a lock of hair out of Sirius' face before shutting his curtains. Glancing at the other's empty beds, she couldn't help but wonder where they were. As if answering her thoughts, the full moon peaked out of the clouds and flooded the room in moonlight.
Hermione grimaced as she remembered her first encounter with Moony. The memory was enough to make her shiver in fright, partly because she almost died, but more on the fact that Remus had to go through it every month. She eyed the silhouette of the Whomping Willow sadly before deciding to talk to Dumbledore about the most recent development.
Hermione sighed in relief as she finally arrived at the gargoyle statue leading to Dumbledore's office. Sneaking around was never her strong suit, but a year with the time turner had honed her skills in the art of hiding in the shadows when somebody walked by. Nevertheless, she was almost caught three times: The first was by a Ravenclaw prefect whom she almost bumped into, the second was the Head Boy, who had been patrolling the floor, and the third was by Filch.
"Skittles." She told the statue as soon as she caught her breath. The gargoyle moved out of the way, and as soon as she reached the door, she heard the Headmaster's voice invite her in.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he saw her. "Welcome, Ms. Granger."
Hermione was surprised. How had Dumbledore known it was her? Then again, this was Dumbledore. He knew almost everything that went around in the castle.
"Sir! I'm me again."
"Indeed, this is most unexpected. Horace isn't known to make mistakes in his calculations." He gave her a smile. "Let's get you to the Hospital Wing, Ms. Granger. I daresay we need to check if the potion is still in your system."
"Poppy!" Dumbledore called for the mediwitch as soon as they arrived at the infirmary. "Take a seat, my dear."
Hermione took a seat at the edge of an empty bed. She was euphoric. If the potion's effects had worn off this early, then that meant in a few days, she could go back to her original time. She smiled in amusement at the look of surprise on Madame Pomfrey's face when she noticed her.
"Ms. Granger?" she inquired. Hermione nodded.
Madame Pomfrey gave her a gentle smile. "It's good to see you in your true appearance. I daresay you look much more beautiful like this."
Hermione, who almost never heard the word pretty and her name be uttered in the same sentence, felt herself blush to the roots of her hair.
"I don't think I look—"
"Nonsense, child. You're gorgeous." She said honestly. And Hermione felt herself heat up at the compliment.
"Poppy, do you think you could have a look at the amount of the potion still in her blood?"
With that prompt, the mediwitch pulled out her wand waved it at Hermione, muttering a spell while doing so. She frowned at her findings.
"The amount of potion still in her blood is still the same as before, Albus. The effects shouldn't have worn off yet."
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, deep in thought as he unstuck a lemon drop and popped it into his mouth. "Perhaps, this is the effect of the wolfsbane in the potion."
"Wolfsbane?" Madame Pomfrey asked.
"Professor Slughorn did mention that it's usually used to nullify some of the effects of the potion." Hermione added thoughtfully. "So does that mean, that since it was combined with Fluxweed, that I'd be switching from being a guy to a girl and vice-versa at random times?"
"I'm afraid so." Madame Pomfrey said, probably arriving to the same conclusion.
Hermione stifled a groan, her giddiness deflating.
"Don't look so put out, my dear. It's not the end of the world. You know you can ask help from any of the faculty." Pomfrey smiled at her.
"Thanks, Madame Pomfrey." She returned the gesture before turning back to Dumbledore. "Sir, how long till I turn back into Daniel?"
The Headmaster rocked in his heels. "I wouldn't presume to know, Ms. Granger. I can only guess."
Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Then please, sir, can you tell me your guess?"
His eyes twinkled even more at her statement. "My guess would be within the span of twenty-four hours."
"I'm going to have to skip class?" she asked, absolutely horrified. She never skived off her classes. Not even the History of Magic.
"There, there, dear. I'm sure you'll be able to catch up in no time. It's only a day."
"Well, Ms. Granger, since you are currently Hermione and not Daniel—"
He makes it sound like I have a multiple personality disorder.
"—you will be staying at your old room."
"My old room, professor?"
"I daresay you still remember Perseus."
Hermione grinned. How could she not? Talking to that painting was like talking to Severus Snape.
"I do, sir."
"Run along then, I have something I need to ask Madame Pomfrey. Good night, Ms. Granger." He gave her his signature grandfather smile.
"Good night, sir." Hermione returned the gesture and made her way up to her room. As she reached the portrait, she found it to be asleep.
"Er…Mr. Perseus?" she called tentatively. When it didn't stir, she repeated her query. "Perseus?"
Nothing.
Annoyed, she raised her voice to Mrs. Weasley level. "PERSEUS?"
"I heard you the first time, you insufferable woman." He said irritably.
Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "Well, you weren't answering."
"I merely find it quite wasteful to expend energy talking to dunderheads such as yourself."
"You're a painting; you don't expend 'energy' talking to us."
At her answer, he straightened his back and propped his elbow on the desk in front of him, his left hand anchoring his chin. It was as if she passed some sort of test.
"Fair point," he looked like he had swallowed a lemon. "Expending of energy aside, what brings you in front of my painting at this time of the night?"
"I need a place to sleep. Professor Dumbledore told me to stay here."
"Ah, yes…Dumbledore." Perseus sniffed disdainfully. "The barmy old codger. He did say something about somebody staying in this room. However, I do recall that he gave me instructions to only let in a certain Mr. Daniel Chronos."
"I am Daniel Chronos."
"Last I checked, miss, Daniel Chronos was of the male species."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's clear to me that you won't budge so easily. So tell me, what do you need me to do to get in?"
"Now that's more like it," Perseus grinned maliciously. "If you are able to answer this question, I'll let you in, but if you get it wrong, you have to look for a different place to sleep."
"All right." Hermione agreed reluctantly.
"Where is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets located?"
Hermione's mouth fell open. Sure, she knew the answer to that question, but what surprised her was that he knew the answer.
Perseus smirked. "I suppose you have to look for another room—"
"It's in the second floor girl's bathroom. Can I sleep now?" she answered irritably.
"How did you know that?" he narrowed his eyes at her.
"Does it really matter? No? Now open up, I'm really sleepy." She said.
"I'll let it go for now, Ms. Granger. But I intend to know how you figured that out." And finally, he swung open, admitting entrance.
Hermione fell onto the bed, exhausted from the night's excitement. She didn't even wonder how Perseus knew her real name.
Sirius
Sirius jolted awake and immediately looked around to see where he was. He relaxed marginally when he realized he was in his dorm room. As he ran a hand through his hair, he remembered the events of last night.
Was it all a dream?
It had been so real. The girl he saw, he didn't think he would have been able to think her up. His imagination had always been colorful, and the girls he created in his head were all beautiful and sexy, or hideous; always in extremes.
But the girl on Chronos' bed was just so…plain.
She wasn't striking, nor was she drop-dead gorgeous, or even sexy. Her skin wasn't clear and her face was dotted with a few freckles. Her shoulder length, wavy, brown hair, didn't look like it had been brushed in days. And her eyes—
Merlin. He was one hundred percent sure they were the same ones in the hospital wing. Sirius remembered her reaction to being called Chronos' floozy. That ruled out the 'girlfriend theory'. So now, the question is: Who the heck is she and what was she doing in their dorm?
His eyes found Chronos' empty bed. In fact, where was Chronos last night?
Maybe James or Peter saw him.
He climbed out of his bed and shook James. "Oi, Prongs,"
"Whrrrrrrrr?" came James' response. "Pa'foo? Five mrr minutes."
"Mate, wake up! You're late for Transfiguration!"
That did the trick. He thought amusedly as James rolled over and fell to the floor, wide awake, ready to rush to class without even taking a bath.
"Wha? What time is it?" James yawned.
"Half-past six."
"Bloody hell. Let me sleep in."
"Hey, mate," Sirius said. "Did you and Peter happen to see Chronos last night?"
"No, I don't think so. Why?"
Sirius then recounted what happened last night to James. When he finished, his best friend was looking at him in bemusement.
"Sirius, mate, I think you need a little more sleep. You're telling me there was a girl on Chronos bed? The bloke's never shown interest in any girl…aside from Evans that is." He added darkly.
"Prongs, she was too real. It couldn't have been a dream." He frowned.
James shrugged. "Whatever makes you happy, mate."
Sirius rubbed his eyes in exasperation. He could already tell that his day was going to be plagued with images of his mystery girl.
When the three of them came down to breakfast, people didn't ask them where Remus was. The Gryffindors were already used to Remus disappearing once a month to 'visit his mother'. However, the same couldn't be said of Chronos.
As Sirius sat down, he glanced at the customary spot where Evans and Chronos usually sat with Mary MacDonald, Dorcas Meadowes and Alice Brown. The other four were there, but Chronos was nowhere to be found. He frowned in puzzlement. Where the hell was he?
Evans noticed his glanced and fixed him with a glare, as if he had something to do with the recent disappearance of her newfound best friend. He merely gave her a shrug in return before turning away from her and engaging James in a debate about Quidditch teams.
"The Tornadoes are sure to win this time around," James said. "Their new line-up kicks ass!"
Sirius scoffed. "You're only saying that 'cause the new seeker actually looks like you."
"Can't argue with that." he grinned.
"Mail's here." Peter interrupted them, pointing to the ceiling. Sirius looked up, waiting for his monthly subscription to Quality Quidditch when he spotted a familiar black owl. He paled as he saw it make its way not towards the Slytherin table—to his brother—but to the Gryffindor's, mainly him.
The owl landed on Sirius shoulder, its claws digging into his skin before leaving.
He tore the letter open and scanned its contents. After reading through it, whatever blood remained in his face was flushed away, leaving him as white as sheet. He looked up to meet the eyes of his brother from across the hall. Regulus eyes flickered with worry before resuming its cold exterior.
So Regulus knew about it, he gritted his teeth in annoyance.
His eyes scanned the Slytherin table and his gaze landed on Melinda Bielefeld, his—dare he say it?—fiancée. The more he rebelled, the more his idiotic parents tightened their grips on around his neck. If they thought that he'd willingly agree with a stupid arranged marriage to a snooty and rather brainless pureblood, then they had another thing coming.
"Padfoot, are you all right?" James asked in concern.
"No," he admitted.
James nodded. He probably noticed the Black Family Crest on his letter. Letters from his parents were bad omens of things to come. It could probably be likened to seeing a Grim.
"Well, we're going to be late for History of Magic. C'mon." Peter reminded them.
"I—I think I'm going to skive off History today." Sirius muttered, his mind still on the unsettling letter about his marriage.
"What? But why—"
James elbowed Peter on the chest. "All right, mate. We'll see you later then."
Sirius made his way sullenly up to the Gryffindor Tower. Why couldn't his parents just leave him alone? Sometimes—no, always—he wished he was a half-blood. At least they had it easy. They weren't supposed to act regal or proper like purebloods and they weren't clueless about magic like muggleborns.
As he was about to enter the dorms, a movement at the far end of the hallway caught his eye. He turned his head to see someone round the corner.
Needing something to take his mind off of the engagement, he walked down the hallway and rounded the corner. He situated himself behind a suit of armor and watched the person stop in front of a painting.
This time, he was sure he wasn't dreaming.
So she was real after all.
The girl from last night was currently standing a few feet away from him, and from the looks of it, actually arguing with a painting.
Sirius leaned forward to listen to the conversation.
Hermione
"Let me in, Perseus." Hermione sighed. The painting was really getting onto her nerves.
"Not until you tell me how you know the location of—"
"I already told you: Dumbledore told me." she lied.
"Surely you don't think I'm gullible enough to fall for that lie," he said. "Dumbledore doesn't know the entrance to the Chamber. So let's try this again, how did you find out?"
Hermione bit her lip. "I...I'm not from around here."
"You sound British to me, Ms. Granger." Perseus lifted a brow, before comprehension dawned on his features. "Ahhh…I see. What year then?"
She raised her chin by a fraction. "You don't have to know."
"Well then, I'm afraid I can't grant you entrance then." He replied.
Hermione was growling in aggravation when she heard a clang of armor falling to the ground. She whipped her wand out and pointed it to the source of the noise. Her shocked brown eyes met the sheepish ones of a certain Sirius Black.
"Ummm, fancy meeting you here." He said lamely.
Hermione did the one logical thing: she ran.
"Hey, wait!" she heard Sirius call out to her from behind. She sprinted down the corridor and rounded the corner.
Sirius
He smirked inwardly. She had nowhere to run now, the end of the corridor was a dead end. As Sirius rounded the corner, the smile on his face melted into shock.
The girl had disappeared.
Where'd she go?
As far as Sirius knew, there weren't any secret passages in that part of the castle. The only thing in this hallway was the painting of Barnabas the Barmy, and they—the Marauders—had already examined it for hidden passageways.
He pressed his back to the wall and slid down.
Sirius couldn't hear the conversation properly since they were speaking in low voices. From what he gathered, her name was Ms. Grein, and she was not from around there, and the painting wanted to know the year of her birth?
He cast tempus and he groaned when the numbers showed that it was only a quarter to ten. Somehow, he knew that he was going to try and replay in his mind what he witnessed today.
It was going to be a very, very long day indeed.
A/N: I promised monthly updates! And tomorrow's my cutoff! So I finished this chapter and well…yeah. Sorry it took me a while. Anyway, I hope you liked it. :D Please leave a review!
P.S. I'm going to reply to your reviews tomorrow, because I am reaaaaaaaaally sleepy. It's like 1 AM here. But I promise to reply. Love you guys. :D