To say that she was nervous would be an understatement. After all, how often did one get a chance to meet a famous Alchemist, who managed to create the Philosopher's Stone and then create the Elixir of Life out of it? Apparently, not that often.

Hermione had no idea what to expect from this meeting... Dumbledore had been very cryptic about everything, including the location of it. She was to travel by Portkey, that would take her directly into Flamel's house, as to not reveal it's address. Many people wanted to gain that information, since the Alchemist's knowledge was irreproducible. Hermione knew that making her take the Portkey was the safest way possible, but it also made her very uneasy.

Despite her worry, she'd shown up in Dumbledore's office precisely 10 minutes before her planned departure. She was greeted by the Headmaster, as he offered her tea and a lemon sherbet. She politely declined, as her stomach felt terribly queasy. Last thing she wanted to do was to puke on Nicholas Flamel.

Time was passing agonizingly slow. Hermione kept staring at the watch hanging on the wall and wondered if it was working properly. Knowing Dumbledore and his many quirks, the clock might have been a weird decoration rather than actual timepiece, but judging by the headmaster's amusement, this one was legit.

Finally, Dumbledore gestured towards an old mirror, that apparently had been turned into the Portkey. Hermione took a deep breath and extended her hand towards it. She couldn't help but notice, how shaky her arm was and it made her feel even worse. She had to get herself together. Nicholas Flamel probablt wanted to meet a girl that was smart enough to get chosen by Dumbledore to change the course of Time, not a scared, little chit.

Before she could change her mind, the world started to swirl around her, as a sensation of being sucked into the void overwhelmed her. Traveling that way was much more pleasant than flying on a broom, at least in Hermione's opinion. Still, she'd never really mastered landing on her feet instead of her buttocks... Unfortunately, this time proved to be exactly the same.

A groan of pain escaped her mouth, as her backside came to contact with marbled floor of what seemed to be a huge hallway. Hermione forced herself to open her eyes, taking in her surroundings with great focus. Despite the pain she felt, she couldn't help but notice the beauty of the place she found herself in. Of course, Nicholas Flamel had to be a wealthy man, considering the fact that he had hundreds of years to gather his fortune. Still, his mansion was more than impressive – marbled floors were one thing, but the ever-present gold and antique furniture made the impression even greater.

Hermione slowly pushed herself upwards and brushed off the dust that might have gathered on her robes. She was glad to be wearing Hogwarts' attire, as her normal clothing would feel terribly out of place in that rich mansion.

"Hello?", she called to no one in particular, thinking that maybe Mr Flamel wasn't aware of her arrival.

When nothing but silence answered her, she sighed and looked around once again. It would probably be extremely easy to get lost in a house like this. Walking around seemed pretty pointless, so she decided to use her skills for once. With a flick of her wand and a whispered incantation, Hermione realised that no one beside her and another human being had been in the house.

'It has to be Flamel', she thought and took a deep breath, deciding to find him on her own.

Taking in the information provided to her by Homenum Revelio, she started to climb the stairs, marvelling at their width and beauty. She tried to keep her steps quiet, although it seemed pretty stupid to sneak around, since Flamel must have been aware of her presence. Location of his house has been a secret and it couldn't have been so without proper security measures.

After spending so many years at Hogwarts, the corridors didn't seem all that scary to her, although she couldn't picture living in that house, not in a million years. It might have been superficially stunning, but it had to be very lonely to walk around its vast spaces. The fact that every single figure from the portraits hanging on the walls seemed to follow her steps, looking at her with excitement, did nothing to change her mind about living in a house like this.

Finally, after several minutes, she walked into a small, cosy room that posed a strong contradiction to what she has previously seen. The furniture seemed old, but other than that, it lacked the splendour of the rest of the house. Hermione found it much more pleasant than the cold halls and corridors and was incredibly glad, that Flamel had chosen this room for their meeting.

"Mr Flamel?", she called quietly, looking at the back of the chair that was clearly occupied by a small man with incredibly long, white hair.

When no answer reached her ears, she took a couple of steps forwards, her nervousness kicking in once again. What if it was a trap? 'Don't be ridiculous!', she scolded herself instantly and opened her mouth, when a loud chuckle sounded in the room.

"Mr Flamel?", she asked again, but this time her voice sounded much more unsure.

"It's not a trap, Miss Granger"

Nicholas Flamel's voice seemed calm and full of sympathy, surprising Hermione quite strongly. She'd expected him to be distant and cold, as it would fit into a picture of someone so accomplished and famous. It seemed like her depictions had been wrong, once again...

"Yes, it's very difficult not to judge the book by its cover. But you seem to be quite adept at that", Flamel said and Hermione realised that he must have been aware of every single thought running through her head.

How? Legilimency didn't work like that, as it provided memories rather than thoughts and without casting the spell, he would at least have to make eye contact with her to be able to see them.

"I'm very old, Miss Granger. Old and too powerful for my own good. Otherwise, I'd never allow my wife to lock me in that cage she calls home"

Hermione found herself quite lost for words. How was she supposed to act in his presence? If she didn't know any better, she'd never go as far as to claim that this man had been over 600 years old.

"650, to be precise. But I'm extremely well, thank you for asking", he giggled and she sighed.

"Are you going to keep doing that all the time?", Hermione sounded a bit annoyed, not being able to stop herself, but Flamel clearly didn't mind, as he kept on laughing.

"I am truly sorry, my dear. It's awfully rude to read someone's thoughts, it had been that way back in my youth, just as much as it is now. My age makes it very difficult to remember about it all the time, especially if I spend my days talking only to my wife and my dog"

Hermione had to blink away the surprise that the man managed to evoke in her. Something about him owning a dog, not mentioning talking to one really threw her off.

"I don't mind, it's just incredibly weird", she said finally and actually meant it.

She had nothing to hide, not from him. Asking for help without willingness to be at least honest seemed completely bonkers.

"How are you even able to do that?"

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure, but when you're spending your days exercising your mind, it becomes a very powerful tool with great abilities. A fact, that you must be very aware yourself"

That she was. No one got called 'the brightest witch of her age' by mistake. No matter how modest she tried to be or how unsure of herself she was, her knowledge couldn't be denied, even if it came from the books rather than naturally.

"I believe we have a limited amount of time, Miss Granger, isn't that correct? Why don't we simply get to the point?"

Hermione took a deep breath and furrowed her brows slightly.

"Actually, I have a question"

"Help will always be given to those who ask for it", the man answered cheerfully, reminding her of the words once spoken by Dumbledore.

"Why did you decided to trust me? You don't even know me!"

"Ah. Your question, my dear, is very much the core of our conversation"

"How come?"

"Why don't we start from the beginning? I need you to tell me everything. Don't leave out any details, as they might be very important"

Hermione nodded obediently and started her story. Her memories were full of pain, but somehow getting everything out of her system felt relieving, suddenly making her able to breathe once again. The tears kept streaming down her face, her voice cracked at times, but she moved forward with her tale, until there was no tears and pain left in her. All of these things had already happened and would be etched into her memory forever. Crying over something that she was desperately trying to fix couldn't get her anywhere and that knowledge felt weirdly cleansing.

"Are you sure, that you had died on that day? Can you be certain that your heart stopped beating and your last thoughts were filled with longing and desperation to change what had already happened?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, trying to determine, whether Flamel's words were entirely correct. She remembered the darkness that swallowed her entire body, filled her mind like a disease, she remembered the numbness and the ever-present cold. But was she dead?

"It would seem so, Miss Granger", Flamel answered her inaudible question.

Hermione bit her lip, feeling a cold shiver run through her body. The thought that appeared in her mind was disturbing enough, to make her gasp with disbelief – what if she could have just stayed dead? Wouldn't it be better?

Thinking about those kind of things was simply wrong. Maybe going to Hogwarts wasn't exactly exhausting, but she did her best to turn the time back around, to prevent everything from happening, even if that meant living with all the consequences of her actions. Wishing that things were different had already gotten her into troubles once. It wasn't a good idea to make the situation even worse.

"Miss Granger, I believe that Albus mentioned something about a boy named Harry. You claim that he was the Chosen One. The one person able to defeat Voldemort"

"Yes. That's correct"

"Why exactly had he been chosen?"

Hermione furrowed her brows and wondered if she should answer his question. He was probably quite aware of her inner battle, but decided to let her come to a conclusion on her own, which she was grateful for. Finally, she sighed and said:

"There was a prophecy... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Her memory was quite useful most of the time, but there were things she wished to forget. The Prophecy definitely qualified as one of them, ever since she'd heard it for the first time. It reminded her of all the suffering in Harry's life, suffering he clearly didn't deserve. But right now, it also reminded her of the people that died because of it. Wonderful people, who she truly loved, even after spending so little time with them.

"I am inclined to believe, that you fully understand this Prophecy's meaning, is that right?"

"Yes. We've spent hours dissecting it. Besides, it's meaning is pretty obvious, considering Harry's story. His parents... His parents wanted to protect Harry more than anything in the world. They've used the Fidelius Charm to protect the location of their house. Unfortunately, they'd trusted the wrong person to be the Secret Keeper and they've got betrayed", her voice cracked from all the pent-up emotions, but she got herself together quickly. "Harry's mother... She gave her life away to save him. For all I know, Voldemort didn't want to kill her, as he cared only about her little boy. But she'd rather die than let anything to happen to him. Her magic saved Harry and defeated Voldemort with his own curse"

Flamel looked at her with thoughtfulness and then nodded.

"Miss Granger, do you know that Fidelius Charm is one of the most ancient spells in the world? It is older even than me. Very powerful, very demanding and extremely useful. However, its power doesn't come from the incantation or the wand movement. It comes from the magic of love and trust that exists between the caster and the Secret Keeper. There is no possibility for the spell to work, if those feelings aren't strong enough. It's the same kind of magic that saved your friend", the Alchemist stated and Hermione almost gasped from the realisation that dawned on her.

It was so obvious, now that she thought of it. She had known that Fidelius had been ancient, but it had never occured to her that ancient magic had been much more raw and natural than the one she was used to. It required a lot of feelings to cast spells, a conviction to achieve something. Being the Secret Keeper meant that as long as you had no intentions of betraying your friends, no one was able to force the information out of you. The bonds and emotions made it simply impossible.

"Exactly, Miss Granger. Modern wizards often fail to realise that their strength doesn't come from their wands or their lineage, but from within themselves. Give the wand to a Muggle and he still wouldn't be able to produce any magic. But we? We possess that power inside of our bodies, a power that allows us to achieve truly great things. But this raw force doesn't respond to just anything, even though we've learned to shape it by using wands and incantations, that help us channel it. It responds to our feelings and needs. And those who had managed to connect those things are the most powerful wizards this world had ever seen"

Something in his words moved her. It was almost as listening to professor McGonagall's speech, when she visited her home to tell her, she was a witch. Flamel made her feel like she had just discovered magic for the first time.

"That is simply brilliant", she murmured, unable to stop her wonderment.

"Yes, magic tends to be that way. But my point wasn't to tell you a pretty story, that will force you to cry once again", he said, making her blush and quickly wipe her tears away. "I wanted you to realise the true meaning behind professor Dumbledore's words"

Hermione remembered them very well, although she had thought he was just being cryptic and mysterious. Now that she kept replaying his words over and over in her mind, it became obvious that Albus Dumbledore rarely tried to be mysterious without a hidden reason.

"The intentions...", she finally whispered, making Flamel nod in agreement. "Lily had managed to conjure a shield powerful enough to protect Harry from the Killing Curse, because of her unwavering love and need to save him"

"Correct"

Hermione breathed in and out, trying to feed her brain, so that it would be able to make the connection between Lily's deed and her own situation. Finally, she sighed and gave up, not wanting to waste any more time.

"But what does it have to do with me?"

"Everything, Miss Granger. There's a reason that your Horcrux doesn't feel like one, even though it clearly contains a part of your soul. You were so desperate to save your friends, that you had managed to split your soul in order to do so. Your body was dying and the chances that you would survive seemed minimal. There was absolutely no possibility for you to know, that Albus had charmed the Time Turner to take you back though time and that someone would save you. As a consequence, just before you died, you split your soul to ensure the possibility of coming back to life, just so you could save them, one way or another", he said with a gentle smile, leaving Hermione breathless. "You didn't create a Horcrux, Miss Granger. You created it's opposite. The love you had for your friends was so great that the thought of leaving them, unleashed the most powerful kind of magic there has ever been".