A/N: This chapter is already corrected.
It's also a bit longer than the previous one (and the next ones, for that matter), but I hope you'll like it :)
She gasped loudly, feeling completely horrified. How could it be that even after her death, the nightmares wouldn't stop plaguing her? Reliving the battle over and over wasn't something that she had planned to do after she'd died. Of course, she couldn't really say that death had been in her plans at all, even though she always knew it certainly qualified as one of the possibilities. Nonetheless, she had never thought that it would hurt so much, both physically and emotionally. Maybe it was because of the fact that she hadn't been such a good person? After all, she had killed Bellatrix and possibly many others, even though she had only used the Killing Curse once.
"Ah, I see you're finally awake, my dear!" A woman's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and caused her to immediately reach for her wand.
Obviously, it wasn't there. Bellatrix snapped it in half right before her eyes. Sorrow clenched her heart, but she knew better than to let her emotions get the best of her, so she turned her head to face the woman, who walked into the room.
Hermione thought that she was hallucinating at first, when she looked right into the face of Madame Pomfrey, who seemed much younger than when she had last seen her. The conclusion dawned at her, when she realized that she probably wasn't the only one dead. There probably might not have been anyone alive, if Ron hadn't succeeded. I wonder if there's a way to learn if he managed to kill that son of a bitch, she wondered briefly, before returning back to reality.
"Are you dead too?" she asked, her voice hoarse and raspy from not being used for a long time.
Or at least she thought it had been long. How could she know? She was dead after all.
"Dead? Oh, believe me, you came really close to dying, but fortunately, I'm very good at my job, dear," the nurse stated and gave her a warm smile, causing Hermione to furrow her brows.
"Are you telling me, that I'm not dead?"
Her voice sounded a lot better the second time, but the words coming out of her mouth seemed very unlikely. She rememberedher heart slowing down, as her body began to shut down. How could she be alive, when there was no one who could have saved her at the time?
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you. Now, how do you feel?"
Hermione really didn't know what to make of it. Instead of answering the nurse's question, she looked around and noticed the familiar walls of the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. Was it really possible that Ron had killed Voldemort and somehow managed to save her? She always knew that he was smarter than everyone had thought, but still, even in her mind it seemed nearly impossible for something like that to happen.
And yet, here she was, breathing and having a conversation with Poppy Pomfrey, who looked better than ever.
"What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is Ron leaving me behind to fight Voldemort," she said, ignoring the pain she felt and discarding the sheets covering her body.
"Miss, you should stay calm. Some of the wounds you suffered were very severe and they haven't healed yet. They could reopen any second," the nurse seemed really disturbed by her actions and also seemed to have no idea what Hermione was talking about.
Something was wrong. Madame Pomfrey fussed over her just as she normally would, but she looked at her without any recognition. She called her miss. And Hermione knew that considering her numerous visits to the Hospital Wing, Poppy decided to stop with the formalities and just call her by the name. It was almost impossible for that habit to change out of the blue, especially considering the Battle that took place right here, in this castle.
"Why do you look so young?" she asked with her brows furrowed and watched with suspicion as Poppy's cheeks tinged red with embarrassment and annoyance.
"Excuse me? Don't you think that's a little rude, Miss?"
Hermione didn't answer, feeling as though someone punched her in the stomach, when she realized that it wasn't just her imagination and Madame Pomfrey really had no clue whatsoever, who she was talking to. But how the hell was that possible? The fact that she somehow survived the Battle was a miracle on its own, but this? Maybe someone cursed her, after she lost her consciousness? Hermione quickly skimmed her mind looking for a spell that could do that. She knew an awful lot about memory charms, considering the fact that she used one of them on her own parents.
Her mouth suddenly flew open, when she remembered that tingling sensation on her chest right before she surrendered to darkness.
"What year is it?" she asked, her voice a bit absent.
"Are you feeling alright?"
Madame Pomfrey rushed to her side and waved her wand, probably checking Hermione's temperature. When it turned out completely normal, she performed some other spells and Hermione had no doubts that the older woman made sure that she didn't suffer any injuries to her head.
"I'm fine. I just really need to know what year it is."
"1976."
Hermione looked at her with her eyes wide open, trying to find any signs of deception on the nurse's face. The only thing she found was worry and distress. Oh, God... How on earth did she manage to travel twanty years back in time, without even trying to? How was it possible? How the hell was she supposed to get back without altering the time line? How...
Her world started spinning and waves of nausea flooded her body, causing her to breathe rapidly. She felt her stomach twist into a tight knot, and she closed her eyes, unable to take the dizziness anymore.
"I think I'm going to be sick," she breathed out and Madame Pomfrey summoned a bowl immediately.
Hermione grabbed the vessel and retched violently, unable to stop herself when all of the facts dawned on her. If it really was 1976, she shouldn't even be born as of yet. She remembered what Dumbledore and McGonagall said to her before her third year about using the Time-Turner. There was nothing more dangerous than that, considering the fact that no one could handle meeting their future selves very well. Not mentioning the huge impact it had on the future itself. The fact that she was here meant that everyone she'd gotten to know in the meantine, would recognize her as soon as an eleven year old Hermione Granger had walked through the Hogwarts' Gate. It also meant that she would have to keep hiding, awaiting for that precise moment of her own disappearance, so she could step into her old life once again. Of course, by the time it happened, the future would be so altered that there could be no guarantee that the Final Battle would even take its place on that day in the same place.
Another wave of nausea hit her when she realized that even by lying in the hospital bed, allowing Madam Pomfrey to look over her, she had already changed everything. There could be no doubt that the woman would remember her face and connect the facts, when an eleven year old Hermione showed up at Hogwarts. The only way to fix this would be to Obliviate the nurse and everyone who had seen Miss Granger, and then go into hiding for 20 years. Every other option would disrupt the future completely.
There would be no guarantee that Harry and Ron would be born and even if they would, what if they didn't become friends with her? What if they would die before the Final Battle?
Memories of Harry's dead body and desperation in Ronald's eyes flooded her brain, making her eyes sting. She felt tears rolling down her face, when the agonizing pain erupted from deep inside her body. Hermione could have sworn that being Crucioed by Bellatrix was the worst feeling in the world, but now she wasn't so sure anymore. Her heart got ripped to pieces, just as Voldemort's soul had been.
"They're dead. Oh Merlin, they really are dead," she sobbed hard, letting her body tremble uncontrollably, as her wailing echoed through the walls of the Hospital Wing.
"My dear, who is dead? What happened to you?" She heard Madam Pomfrey's voice, but even if she wanted to answer that question, she couldn't.
Not only because her pain and sorrow made it impossible to speak, but also because she knew that no one could know the truth. The situation was bad as it was and anything she could have said would only complicate it even more. She knew that it would be best if she simply run away, leaving everything behind, but her body was in no condition for doing so. Instead, she decided to let herself fall apart completely.
"Please, leave me alone," she sobbed and hid herself underneath the cover.
Madame Pomfrey apparently decided that whatever was going on with her, she couldn't help. The nurse left the room, while Hermione lied on her bed, wide awake, her eyes staring into the ceiling but not seeing anything, except for the scenes constantly playing in her mind, like a broken TV.
She was grieving. Even though it probably wasn't the best thing to do, considering her situation and the fact that she disrupted the entire future by coming here. But she just couldn't stop. Her brain refused to work properly, making it impossible to plan her further steps. Hermione knew though that whatever happened next, it would probably require her to be brave and determined, and she couldn't do that just yet. Her heart was bleeding too much.
"Are you ready to speak, Miss?" Professor Dumbledore's voice echoed through the room, sounding so effing familiar that she wanted to scream.
She felt like she was talking to a ghost or worse, a zombie of some kind. Hermione remembered the night of his death very well, the image of his lifeless body etched into her mind for the eternity. And yet he sat next to her bed and looked at her with gentle, reassuring smile that she used to see on his face very often. Back then, she thought that the man's spirit couldn't be broken, but today she was smarter and much more observant. Beneath the sparkles in his eyes, she could also see weariness and curiosity. He didn't want to scare her, but she knew that he had waited for this conversation long enough to start feeling a bit impatient.
"I'll never be ready, Professor," she admitted quietly, looking straight into his eyes, surrounded by much less wrinkles than she remembered.
"I understand that, but I still believe it is necessary for you to tell me about yourself. All I know is that you simply appeared out of nowhere in front of the Great Hall, in a state that can only be described as half-dead. I need to know who you are and how did you get here." His voice had some urgency to it and she felt the need to tell him everything.
Hermione knew though that she couldn't do it. Not until she had the absolute certainty that there was nothing she could do to fix this whole situation. Besides, she didn't even know how to answer his question. 'How did I get here?, she thought to herself once again and sighed, when her mind went blank.
"I'm sorry, Professor, but I have nothing to say," she murmured quietly and looked down to her hands resting on top of the covers.
"Are you scared?" he asked, looking at her intently.
Was she? No... Terrified would be a better word to describe her state of mind. Hermione, being the brilliant witch she was, knew very well that Dumbledore wasn't going to leave without any answers. She could lie of course, but having read Hogwarts: A History so many times, she knew that nothing would convince Dumbledore that she somehow managed to break the anti-apparition ward that had been there for centuries.
She desperately tried not to look at him, knowing that he was one of the most powerful Legilimens in the Wizarding world and could easily gain access to her mind if she still refused to talk to him. Judging by his sigh, he knew very well what she attempted to do and didn't like it at all.
"My dear, your efforts to keep the truth to yourself are very admirable, but I already know about your Time-Turner. And even if I didn't confiscate it, there are no other ways of you getting inside the castle out of nowhere. So, let me ask you again, who are you?"
Hermione jerked her head up, her eyes wide with pure shock. How did he... Oh, of course, he must have figured it out. He was Albus Dumbledore, after all. The man planned his own death and made them believe that it was actually a murder -terrible one at that.
"Professor, if you know how I came here, you must know that it's not wise for me to tell you anything," she protested weakly, making Dumbledore smile for the first time during their conversation.
"I believe that everything happens for a reason. And seeing as the Time-Turner you used most definitely belongs to me, your being here cannot be accidental," he said and Hermione shook her head.
"I have no idea how did I manage to activate the Time-Turner, not mentioning the fact that it took me twenty years back."
Before she realized her mistake, professor Dumbledore looked at her with disbelief. She cursed in her thoughts and furrowed her brows. Way to go, Herms. When did you become so lousy at keeping things to yourself?
"Twenty years, you say? That is very interesting, indeed. Seems like I am much smarter than I thought..." Dumbledore chuckled and Hermione looked at him questioningly. "My dear, your Time-Turner had definitely been charmed to activate itself in the right moment. I am fairly sure that it had to be my doing, considering the fact that it belongs to me. Did I give it to you?"
Hermione blushed furiously and looked away, trying to fight her embarrassment.
"Not exactly, Professor. I kind of... Snatched it from your office along with some other things," she admitted and sent him an apologetic gaze.
"Ah, I see. I must have been already dead then," he stated cheerfully, making Hermione's mouth gape. "Nonetheless, I probably wanted someone to take it, otherwise I wouldn't have charmed it. Do you think that I meant for you to have it or maybe it was someone else?"
The girl closed her mouth and considered his words. If what he said was true, he certainly would want her to have it. After all, she had experience with Time-Travelling and had known all the rules to make it as safe as possible. Of course, by sending her here he probably broke all of them at once, which was a serious problem for Hermione.
"If you meant for someone to go back in time, it had to be me. Although I can't say that I understand why on Earth would you want me to do that. It's dangerous even if you travel only few hours into the past, but twenty years? Do you know how much I have disrupted the future?" she asked in a panicked tone and covered her face with her hands.
"No, I don't. But I'd very much like to know, so that we could figure out what to do about it. One thing is sure -you cannot go back to your own time, as it is simply not possible."
"I know that," she moaned and tried to fight back the giant bile that started to form in her throat. "But do you honestly think that telling you everything will make it better? No one is supposed to know the future."
"We have no choice. I am fairly sure that you must be very intelligent, otherwise I wouldn't have picked you, so you realize that everyone who had already seen you, will recognize your face as soon as you appear in Hogwarts for the first time. They will start asking questions and we simply cannot have that. The future is already disrupted, as you've said. We have to make sure that it won't completely fall apart."
Professor Dumbledore was right. She couldn't just refuse to talk to him. He was probably the only person that could handle the information that she had to offer and it would be much easier to figure out her next step with his help.
"I'm sorry, Professor. It's just that you were the one who told me about the rules of travelling through the time and I know what are the of the dangers of not following them. But I also know that I've already broken every single one of them and that fixing it, is not entirely possible. The future will have to change, since there is no way of avoiding it and it would be best if it changed for the better," she admitted with a sad smile.
Maybe that was the reason why the older version of Professor Dumbledore decided to send her back in time, if things got really bad? To fix everything? To make sure that nothing as horrible as the Final Battle would ever happen? Even if that meant sacrificing her own life and completely changing the timeline, she knew it would all be worth it. Maybe she could give Harry a normal life, without death waiting for him behind every corner. Maybe she could prevent everyone she cared about from dying. It didn't matter if they didn't recognize her. Not if they would be happy in the end.
"How bad is the future?" Dumbledore asked after a moment of silence and Hermione closed her eyes, letting the images of the Battle resurface once again.
"More than bad, sir. It's... almost unimaginable."
Her voice was merely a whisper, but it seemed to have a huge impact on the wizard sitting in front of her. His peaceful face suddenly turned white and he started to look much older, reminding her of the Albus Dumbledore she'd known.
"I assume that the state of things had much to do with Lord Voldemort, correct?"
"It had everything to do with him."
"Twenty years of fighting and we still lose in the end? That's not very good news, I'm afraid."
Hermione didn't respond to his words, as it wasn't necessary. Dumbledore fell silent and seemed to be deep in his thoughts, which were probably much more sensible than her own have been. He happened to be the most powerful wizard she had ever known, even if he was also the one that ended up dead, while Voldemort slowly gained more and more power. His mind though... Hermione always admired it, even if his decisions seemed very unreasonable to her sometimes.
She actually believed that she was far too stupid to understand his choices completely, and it motivated her to no end. Hard work was the only way that could turn her into someone as brilliant as Albus Dumbledore and she knew that it was all she ever wanted. His death touched her more than she would ever let on, but it also turned her into a responsible, clever, and cunning witch, determined to do everything she could to ensure her friends safety. And she had failed miserably.
"You still haven't told me your name, my dear," Dumbledore spoke, causing her to flinch.
"Oh. Is it safe for me to tell you?" she asked with concern in her voice.
"I believe so. There are no doubts that you're going to be a vital part of the time that we are currently in, making it impossible for someone not to notice the similarities between you and your future self, who probably hasn't even been born yet, if my assumptions are correct." He looked at her from above his half-glasses and she nodded, confirming his words. "Therefore, we cannot allow your future self to attend Hogwarts, as you were supposed to. It would probably be best if you could reach your parents and convince them to move out to a different country. United States maybe?"
"I guess it's fine..." she murmured, holding back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes.
She couldn't believe that the history was about to repeat itself, and no one beside her would ever know about it. Hermione hated herself for Obliviating her parents, even if she'd done it to keep them safe. The second time wasn't going to be any better, but there was no other choice, but to accept it.
"Good. Now, can you tell me what's your name?"
She smiled bitterly and shut her eyes tightly. In that precise moment she had to say goodbye to her future self and all of her memories. As of now, Hermione Granger would belong to 1976, and nothing could ever change that.
"My name is Hermione Jean Granger, sir. I'm eighteen years old and I've been attending Hogwarts for six years. Then I had to drop out of school. There were things that needed to be done in order to stop Voldemort from winning and those were far more important than finishing my education. I come from 1998, 2nd May to be precise. That's when the Final Battle took place. That's when everything went wrong," she explained quietly and lowered her head, letting her tears roll down her face.
"Those things that had to be done in order to stop him. I take it you didn't succeed?"
"Not entirely. In the end, we had to go back to Hogwarts anyway and finish the job, but we were too late. The Battle had begun and it was a bloody massacre."
"What were you supposed to do? How did you want to stop him?"
Dumbledore's voice was very serious and gravely. She couldn't blame him for wanting to know everything about the future, but she still hesitated. Had Voldemort even made a Horcrux by now? He must have. After all, in a couple of years he would be gone, defeated by her best friend. Dumbledore from her time was fairly sure that all of the Horcruxes were made before his disappearance, except for Nagini and Harry himself. If she somehow managed to destroy all of them, before he had managed to kill the Potters, maybe none of the bad things would happen.
"The Horcruxes, sir. He's made seven of them. Or at least, he will make seven."
"Do you know what Horcruxes are?" he asked her quietly and she nodded. "They are very Dark Magic, very terrifying. If the knowledge of their existence reaches anyone else... Miss Granger, this has to stay a secret."
"I am aware of that, sir. Just like I am aware of the fact that if Voldemort manages to capture me, he'll have access to all my knowledge. I'm not an Occlumens and I think that no matter what we decide about my future in here, I have to become one."
Dumbledore nodded eagerly and smiled at her.
"Yes, yes. That thought has crossed my mind, of course, but I am very content that you've thought about it yourself. At least I know that I made a really good choice by picking you to be a Time-Traveller." His eyes twinkled at her gleefully and Hermione smiled, finding comfort in his familiar behavior. "Now, I think it's necessary for us to discuss your future. I'd very much like you to help the Order of the Phoenix, even though we don't usually allow such young people to join."
"It's too late for me anyway. I've already lived through one war and I really want to make sure that the second one will be also the last. I can't do that if I'm not in the loop of what's going on. Besides, technically I'm eighteen years old and a grown-up." She shrugged and Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes, Miss Granger, but I'm afraid that in this timeline, you'll have to become sixteen again."
Hermione looked at him with surprise visible in her brown eyes. Dumbledore chuckled lightly and explained:
"I know that you've already finished your sixth year, but I don't think that the Order would ever get another chance of having eyes and ears amongst the students in Hogwarts. I'm sure that it could work as a huge advantage if you agreed to repeat your sixth year, and then move on to seventh. It would also be a great opportunity to gain new friends and settle into the new era."
Hermione stayed quiet for a few seconds and then smiled.
"I've always loved this castle. Going back for another two years doesn't sound bad at all."
Except this time she was going to be all alone, without Harry and Ron by her side. That thought made her scared and unsure of herself, but she knew that she would have to face the world sooner rather than later, and doing that at Hogwarts seemed so much better than having to do it in the real world.
"I must warn you, however. The sense of fashion is definitely much different than the one you're accustomed to." Albus giggled and Hermione looked at him with horror, when the images of bell-bottoms popped into her mind.
She thought that it was absolutely ridiculous to wear something so hideous, but fashion tended to be completely illogical. Hermione sighed and realized that she will have to adjust her entire wardrobe.
A memory appeared on the surface of her mind and she looked at Dumbledore anxiously.
"Sir, could you by any chance tell me what happened to my bag? I'm sure I must have had it on me when I came here."
"Oh, yes. Pardon me, Miss Granger, but I had to search it in order to figure out who you were. I was very surprised to see that one of the books in there definitely belonged to me." He looked at her with twinkles in his eyes and Hermione smiled apologetically. "Did you... snatched that too?"
"No, sir. You gave it to me. It was... It was a very important piece of puzzle we were trying to solve for years," she said as cryptic as she could and Dumbledore noticed it right away.
"The Deathly Hallows, correct?"
She nodded her head trying to avoid his gaze. Harry would be dying to ask him the questions that circled her mind right now, but she felt as though it wasn't the best time to prod him about his past.
"Voldemort found out about them and decided to get them, especially the Elder Wand," she said and her gaze flickered to Dumbledore's wand that lied safely in his lap.
If he noticed, he decided not to comment on that. Instead, he caressed his beard, seeming to be deep in thoughts.
"It took him long enough," he murmured to himself and then snapped out of thoughts, smiling at her cheerfully. "Well, I am sure you must be getting very tired, so let's get to the most important thing. We have to come up with a decent cover for you, don't you agree?"
"Of course, sir. I can't just join everyone in their sixth year and hope that they won't have any questions. I do have one question of my own, though. What about my scars? Most of them are cursed and I know very well that they won't come off. They are also very hard to conceal and someone might notice them eventually. Is that going to be a problem?"
"No, Hermione. I am going to make sure that your story will be compatible with all of your scars. Actually, I've been thinking about that part for a while now. I think it would be safe to tell everyone that both of your parents were Muggleborns and that blood purists targeted them specifically because they were powerful wizards, and they apparently gave you the same strength. They escaped Britain and moved to France, thinking that you would be safe there. Unfortunately, the blood purists had found you, killing your parents and forcing you and a couple of your friends to drop out of school and go into hiding. It would explain why you are so thin and it wouldn't be an exact lie, would it?"
"No, sir. Actually, it sounds almost exactly like my true story," she admitted with sadness lacing her voice.
"Yes, it does. As of yours scars, it would probably be best if you told the truth on that matter - blood purists found you and your friends, tortured you and killed everyone beside you. You managed to escape and apparate to England and that's how we found you," he finished, looking at her intensely.
Hermione knew the reason behind coming up with a story that was so similar to what actually happened. The fact that she was determined to get herself together didn't mean that she would succeed without anyone noticing the emptiness in her eyes and the pain hidden deep inside her heart. No... It would be best to just tell everyone something that resembled the truth so much, that she would be able to allow herself those rare moments of sorrow, when no one was looking.
The story was very good and most definitely convincing. It wasn't perfect, though, and Hermione couldn't help but voice her concern.
"Professor... I think that when it comes to my colleagues, it might actually work. But what about Voldemort and his Death Eaters? I know that as of now, he tries to keep them a secret, as he's nowhere near as powerful as he was back in my times, but still… Blood purists might be common, but the fact that I survived a meeting with some of them would definitely capture the attention of Voldemort's supporters. And as a matter of fact, it's also not very difficult to check if I had actually been going to Beauxbatons for six years. All of this will surely make me a target and I've already told you that I can't defend my mind from the invasions."
"Yes, Miss Granger, you are most definitely right. That thought crossed my mind and so I decided that it probably would be best if we made sure, that you were able to keep your secrets from everyone, including Tom. The summer holidays in Hogwarts are about to start and I will have plenty of time to teach you how to Occlude your mind. Occlumency is however only one of the things I'd like you to learn. We can't afford loosing you to Death Eaters, which is why I think it would be good if you decided to practice dueling and defending yourself."
Hermione's eyes went wide with surprise, but it quickly faded away, when she realized that professor Dumbledore was, once again, right. She would lie if she claimed to be an expert duelist, even with what happened in her fifth year with Dumbledore's Army and later on. She never considered herself much of a fighter, not in a physical way at least. But did she really have a choice now? There was no way in hell that she would allow Voldemort to capture her and discover everything.
"I'll do it, professor. But I don't think I will be able to learn anything by myself."
"Of course not, Miss Granger. We have quite a few Aurors in the Order of the Phoenix. I'll make sure to talk to one of them and convince him to train you."
"Can you give me a name?" she asked, thinking about all the Aurors she had ever met.
"Alastor Moody. He's young, but very bright. Are you familiar with him?"
Of course she was. She remembered the night of his death as it was yesterday. Even though he wasn't really her professor, she respected him greatly. It was hard not to do so, when you'd read all about his achievements and bravery. But still, he was a very harsh man and she knew very well that training with him would be a nightmare.
"I see that the name rings a bell to you," Dumbledore said with amusement clear in his voice.
"Oh, yes. I knew him back in my time and I can't say that I'm entirely looking forward to meeting him again, considering the fact that he will probably turn me into a puddle of tears and sweat," she murmured and smiled. "Constant vigilance!"
Dumbledore chuckled and nodded his head agreeably.
"Yes, yes. No doubt, you must've known him. I must also apologize for forcing you to endure his harshness, but I'm afraid he's also the best man for the job I have. He's going to be a brilliant Auror, as I'm sure you know. He will make you much safer, Hermione."
"Of that -I have no doubt."
Hermione watched as Dumbledore stood up and smoothed out his purple robes. Seeing it made her feel weirdly at home, as his eccentric taste was always something that reminded her of the magic present in her life on daily basis. He was the spitting image of a Wizard, and she had no doubts that he intented to look like that. Somehow, it made Hermione's heart warm up again, reminding her that there were still people worth fighting for, even if she really didn't want to do so anymore.
A question popped into her head and she hesitated for a moment, before opening her mouth.
"Professor, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Miss Granger," he answered, his eyes twinkling kindly.
"You've said that we were now in 1976. Is there any chance that the Marauders are here in Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore looked very surprised for a moment, but then he nodded, causing her heart to flutter hard against her chest.
"Undeniably, Miss Granger. I'm pretty sure you're going to notice it sooner than later, considering the fact that it's almost summer and they have just finished their exams. They have this peculiar habit of pranking everyone, which causes them to end up in the Hospital Wing quite often," he said and smiled at her. "Although, I'd suggest you to pretend to be dead, or seriously ill when they come here. They will be very interested in you, but I'm afraid that till you're ready, it would be best to stay away from people, especially the Marauders."
"I'll try to remember that," she said in a small voice, trying to overcome the emotions that appeared out of nowhere.
Professor Dumbledore smiled once again and then exited the Hospital Wing, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She almost couldn't believe that she was going to meet Harry's parents, a young Sirius and Remus, and even that foul rat that betrayed all of them. It seemed very unreal, but it also made her whole body tingle with anticipation. Merlin, how she wished Harry could be here and experience it on his own. He would give everything to get to know his family, she knew that very well. His longing for something that he had never had was so strong, that it almost got them killed when they'd visited the Godric's Hollow. He would have loved the opportunity. Hermione knew though that he would have loved to have his parents by his side, alive and unharmed, even more.
Suddenly she knew why Dumbledore wanted to send her to this exact place and time. It had all started with that one prophecy and betrayal. And now she had the chance to fix it.