After spending most of the afternoon in the Hospital Wing and speaking at length with Dumbledore about her circumstances, Hermione successfully convinced him she was ready to leave and begin her act as a transfer student. She didn't want to sit around and be idle any longer. She wanted to go to class the next morning and start on some schoolwork.
As always, she viewed school as a welcome distraction from the personal problems she was facing. School was her comfort zone, the place where she could easily find the answers to challenging questions. Life outside of class was more difficult to deal with—especially when one was inexplicably catapulted twenty years back in time—and Hermione was eager for the semblance of normalcy she knew homework would provide her.
It was early evening when Dumbledore introduced her to Professor McGonagall who then took charge of settling her in at Hogwarts. Hermione was delighted to see the younger version of her Transfiguration teacher. Her dark hair was in its usual tight bun, but her normally stern expression was softened as she greeted her new student.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Wilkins," McGonagall said, giving her a rare smile.
Hermione had to remind herself that she was Miss Wilkins now. Dumbledore had thought it prudent not to use her real name, and so she would be going by Jean Wilkins for the duration of her time here in the past. Adopting this alias was only one of the precautious measures they were taking in an attempt to protect the future she knew from being altered due to her time travel.
"Thank you," said Hermione as Jean. "It's great to be here, Professor."
"You'll be staying in the Head Girl's dormitory with Lily Evans. I'll show you the way."
Hermione couldn't believe it. She was going to be staying with Lily, Harry's mother!
She followed her professor to a large, magnificent painting of the silhouette of Hogwarts during a fiery sunset. McGonagall tapped her wand against the darkness of the painted castle and a door appeared before them. They went through. On the other side was a spacious sitting room.
Lounging on an armchair was a beautiful red-haired, green-eyed girl who jumped to her feet upon their entrance. She approached Hermione with a friendly smile and extended her hand.
"Hello, Jean! Welcome to Hogwarts. I'm Lily Evans."
This was stranger than seeing Dumbledore alive. Hermione had never known the living Lily. She had always been just a name and a symbol of love and courage. Seeing her now in the flesh, shaking her hand, was peculiar. She felt a pang of guilt. Here she was, roommates with Lily, when her best friend Harry had never had the chance to know her, his own mother.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Hermione said, more honestly than she had ever uttered those words before.
"Miss Evans will show you around the place and take you down to the Great Hall for dinner," McGonagall told her. "I will see you tomorrow morning to go over your class schedule."
"Yes, Professor."
McGonagall bid them a good evening and went on her way.
"Jean, let me show you our room. They've added a bed and dresser for you, and all your things have arrived," Lily informed her enthusiastically.
The bedroom was larger than Hermione expected. It was comfortable enough for two people and would be quite roomy for one person alone. Hermione's new things — wand, clothes, school uniform, school supplies — were on the far side of the room.
"Through that door there we have a nice big bath. It's fantastic. You'll love it."
Hermione was impressed.
"I'm sorry if this is an inconvenience," she said to the redhead. "Sharing a room when you've had it all to yourself."
"Oh, not at all. Actually, I'm quite happy to have a roommate. It's nice to have your own dorm, but it can get lonely sometimes. Are your ready for dinner? The food here is absolutely delicious."
"Yes, I'm starving."
Together they headed down to the Great Hall, and Hermione grew more nervous the closer they got. She was surely about to see Lupin again. She'd have to explain to him her odd appearance that morning, but she still hadn't come up with a plausible explanation.
In the Great Hall, the two girls made their way to the Gryffindor table. They stopped about halfway along, and Lily introduced Hermione to a couple of her new classmates. One of the girls had black hair and honey brown eyes, and the other was smiley with golden hair.
"Girls," Lily said, "this is the new transfer student, Jean Wilkins. Jean, these are my friends Marcia Amaro" —she indicated the girl with black hair first, "—and Kirsten Styles."
"Nice to meet you," Hermione said to the pair of them.
"Come, sit. We don't bite," Kirsten said, and Hermione obliged.
She looked up and down the table as she sat down. She didn't see Lupin anywhere, but she noticed Lily was glancing around too. Marcia seemed to catch this as well.
"James and the others left dinner early," the raven-haired girl informed her friend.
Lily's gaze landed on Marcia. "I didn't ask about James."
"But you were wondering where he was," Marcia said, giving her a knowing look. "Isn't it funny how he's avoiding you? I think he's scared that after all this time you might actually say yes. Are you going to say yes?"
"I haven't given it much thought."
"Oh, don't be coy. You are, aren't you?"
Lily didn't answer.
"James is Head Boy. He's fancied Lily for years now," Kirsten said, filling in the lost Hermione. "He's asked her out about a hundred times, but Lily's always rejected him before because he was too full of himself."
"And last Friday, he asked her again to be his girlfriend," Marcia continued. "This time, Lily said she'd think about it and told him to ask her again on Monday. James nearly had heart failure from the shock. So did the rest of us."
"Well, James has changed. He's more mature now. I thought maybe…" Lily trailed off, shrugging her shoulders.
"You'd finally give in?" Kirsten supplied.
Lily gave her friends a small smile but no definitive answer. Instead, she turned to Hermione.
"Tell us about yourself, Jean. Where are you from?"
"From London, but I've done most of my schooling in France and in the United States. My family moves around a lot because of my dad's job," Hermione said, telling them the story she'd agreed upon with Dumbledore. It was important for others to think she often changed schools so that it would come as no surprise later when she left Hogwarts to return to her proper time.
"What does your dad do?" Kirsten asked.
"He works for the Ministry of Magic, International Relations Department. They needed him in England urgently, and my parents didn't like the idea of me being at a school so far away from them, so that's why I transferred here."
"Is it because of this whole You-Know-Who business going on that your dad had to come back to England?" Marcia asked.
"I'm not sure. He's not allowed to talk about some things," Hermione replied vaguely. The other three girls exchanged intrigued glances.
"Well, it must've been for something important like that if your family had to pick up and leave like you did," Marcia said. "And it must be hard for you, transferring when term's already started."
"I suppose so," Hermione agreed. She hadn't really thought about how she was going to be starting school late.
"You've only missed a few weeks of lessons. I'm sure you'll be fine," Kirsten reassured her.
"Yeah, I hope so," Hermione said, suddenly panicking about her classes. She knew her grades didn't matter in this time, but she still wanted to do well.
The four girls chatted throughout dinner, the others filling Hermione in on the teachers at Hogwarts and some gossip about her new classmates. Hermione, however, was preoccupied with the terrifying prospect of starting classes over a month late. She was in seventh year, N.E.W.T.s year, the most difficult and crucial year of her wizarding education, and she was weeks behind! Why had she told Dumbledore that she was taking all those classes in her time? It was true enough, she did plan on taking those classes, but she hadn't actually started them yet. Now she had to play catch up.
Before she went to sleep that night, Hermione decided she would speak with Professor McGonagall the following day about her worries.
The next morning, after they'd finished getting ready, Hermione and Lily left their dorm together. Waiting for them out in the corridor was—Harry?
No, not Harry. Though this bespectacled person had roughly the same height and build as her best friend, similar facial features, and the same untidy black hair, his eyes were hazel. This had to be—
"James?" Lily said, evidently surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you, of course. It's Monday." James grinned at her, then turned to Hermione. "Hi, there. I don't believe we've ever met. I'm James Potter, Lily's boyfriend."
Lily made an exasperated noise but appeared amused all the same when she told him, "You are not my boyfriend."
"Not yet. Not officially until you say yes."
"And what makes you think I'll say yes?" Lily asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"If my memory is correct, this is the thirteenth time I've asked you out, and everyone knows thirteenth time is the charm."
"Third time's the charm, not thirteen. Thirteen is supposed to be unlucky."
"Not for me. So what do you say?"
Though he was playing it cool and acting confident, Hermione thought she could see a touch of insecurity in James's eyes. She knew how much he must be longing for Lily to say yes, and suspected he also feared being rejected again.
"I say that Jean here is new to Hogwarts, and I need to show her to McGonagall's office."
"That's alright, Lily," Hermione said. "I know where it is. You go on and talk with James."
"Jean—" Lily started, but Hermione cut her off.
"Don't worry about me. I'll see you later."
James gave Hermione a conspiring wink before she left them alone and went off down the corridor. She smiled to herself as she made her way down to McGonagall's office. Was this the moment that Harry's parents became a couple? She hoped so.
Outside her professor's door, Hermione's smile faded and the worries she'd had the night before returned to her. She knocked on the door.
"Come in," came the Transfiguration teacher's voice.
"Good morning, Professor."
"Good morning, Miss Wilkins. Please take a seat."
Hermione did as she was told.
"Here is your class schedule," McGonagall said, handing her a piece of parchment. "You have quite the busy term ahead of you. Professor Dumbledore tells me you are a bright student, but I am not sure how closely the curriculum at your previous school corresponds with that of Hogwarts."
"I was thinking about that too. I'm worried that, being a late transfer, I'm a little behind."
"Well, Miss Wilkins, that is why—"
There was a rap on the door.
"That must be Mr. Lupin," said McGonagall.
Hermione started. "Lupin?"
"Come in," the older witch called.
"You wanted to see me, Professor?"
Lupin stepped into the office but stopped short when he caught sight of Hermione. He looked apprehensively between her and McGonagall.
The Transfiguration teacher arched an eyebrow. "Guilty conscience, Mr. Lupin?"
Lupin paled slightly, and Hermione thought she knew why he was fearful. He was afraid because of what had happened the morning before, scared that she might have accused him of some wrongdoing.
"You are not in trouble this time," said McGonagall with a hint of a smile. "I want to introduce you to our new transfer student, Jean Wilkins. Miss Wilkins, this is your new classmate Remus Lupin."
As manners dictated, Hermione stood up to shake his hand, but their intimate position the previous morning was in the forefront of her mind. Apparently, it was on his mind too because they both flushed at the contact and retracted their hands from each other rather quickly.
McGonagall glanced between them curiously as they sat down. Then she continued.
"He is one of our top students and has the same schedule as you, so I have assigned him to be your study partner. Mr. Lupin, you are to help Miss Wilkins get caught up in her classes and answer any questions she may have."
She looked at him expectantly.
"Yes, of course, Professor," Lupin said.
"Very good. Now, I think—"
The door flew open and a boy with shaggy brown hair appeared.
"Sorry to interrupt, Professor, but Peeves—"
"Oh, not again," McGonagall said.
"He's dropping Dungbombs in the corridor upstairs, Professor," said the shaggy-haired boy gleefully, but his grin was quickly wiped off his face by McGonagall's annoyed expression.
"Mr. Lupin, Miss Wilkins, I'm afraid I need to go straighten out a certain poltergeist," said the irritated McGonagall. "The two of you should hurry down to breakfast before classes begin."
The four of them exited McGonagall's office, and the older witch and the shaggy-haired boy headed toward a staircase while Hermione lingered uncertainly in the corridor with Lupin. She met his eyes tentatively.
"I suppose we should, um, talk about…you know…what happened yesterday."
He gave her a questioning look. "What exactly did happen?"
Finding it difficult to hold Lupin's steady gaze for more than a few seconds at a time, Hermione glanced between him and a spot on the floor as she spoke next.
"I'm not entirely sure. There must have been some kind of mix up with the Portkey. You see, I was supposed to arrive here at Hogwarts by Portkey at noon yesterday. Outside the school gates. I don't know how I ended up in your dormitory. I was asleep when it happened, when I was transported."
Lupin studied her closely with his green-gray eyes, and Hermione wasn't sure whether he believed her. She knew, and she knew that he knew, a person couldn't be transported directly into Hogwarts by Portkey or Apparition. She fidgeted with the strap of her book bag as she waited for him to respond.
"I was going to follow you when you ran out the door," he said finally. "To make sure you were okay. But…I thought I might have imagined it all. You were gone before I could wrap my head around you being there."
"I'm sorry I ran off like that without saying anything. I panicked. I was just startled to wake up like that, with you..." Hermione trailed off, her face heating up.
"I'm sorry. I was the one who was— I mean, I was asleep too. I didn't mean to…" Lupin apologized, his face also gaining color.
"It's okay. Neither of us knew what was happening."
A long moment of awkward silence followed. Then Hermione sighed.
"Look, I don't want things to be weird between us," she said. "Especially now that McGonagall's made us study partners."
"Neither do I."
"Maybe we can pretend that never happened? Start all over?" she proposed hopefully.
"Yes," Lupin said, jumping at the suggestion. "I'd like that."
"Great," Hermione said, relieved. "But first…" She pulled Lupin's cloak out of her bag and handed it back to him. "Thank you for that."
"No problem," he said, stuffing it into his own bag.
"Okay. Now, let's pretend we first meet when I'm wandering around, lost, and I finally find another student, you, whom I can ask for directions. Alright?"
"Sure," Lupin said, looking amused by her idea to play-act.
Hermione feigned seeing him for the first time.
"Hello, there. My name is Jean," she greeted. "I'm new here. Can you tell me where the Great Hall is?"
"Nice to meet you, Jean," Lupin replied, a trace of humor in his voice.
Hermione knew this was silly, but she was glad he was going along with it.
"I'm Remus. I'm heading to the Great Hall myself. I'll show you the way."
"Great, thank you," she said, and flashed him a smile.
When Lupin returned it with his own kind smile, she experienced an unexpected fluttering in her stomach—butterflies. Hermione tried to ignore the feeling. She didn't want to reflect upon what it meant. She most definitely did not want to go there. That could only make matters more complicated, and matters were already complicated enough.