Hermione was sitting across from Dumbledore, trying to remain calm but the sudden rush of memory that had overcome her a short while ago was making it very difficult to do so.

"Professor, I remember everything, but I still don't understand."

"Let us start at the beginning, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "You have previously described to me that you were at a birthday celebration when the time traveling incident occurred. I believe you were asking a friend about a job he'd been offered."

"Yes. We were out in the garden by the gate," Hermione said, relaying the memory to Dumbledore as it played like a movie in her head. "I asked him about the job, and he said he wasn't sure yet if he was going to take it. Then he asked me about Hogwarts, and I had just gotten some really good news so I told him about it. He congratulated me on my achievement, and he — and he picked a rose from the garden and gave it to me."

Hermione stared down at the chocolate rose she still held in her hands.

"It smelled lovely. Like a rose, of course. But there was the faintest hint of another scent…"

She paused again, thinking about the memory so vivid now in her mind's eye, while Dumbledore waited patiently for her to continue.

"I thanked my friend, and when he said he had to go, I asked him if I would see him at Hogwarts. He told me perhaps, and then he left. Disapparated. I didn't go back to the party after he was gone. I felt strangely compelled to be on my own, to go to bed. So when I went inside the house, I went straight upstairs, but I felt odd while I was walking up the steps, blissfully dazed — like I was in some sort of trance. And I also felt a bit dizzy because of the rose. The whisper of a scent I'd detected before had grown stronger, and it didn't smell like a rose at all anymore. It — it smelled like him."

"Like the friend you had just been speaking with?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," breathed Hermione, consumed by the memory of the rose's fragrance and by the same scent of her boyfriend, which still lingered on her from their date earlier.

"What happened next, Miss Granger?"

"I went into the room I was staying in and got ready for bed. Then, while I was lying there, the rose — it started to glow from the bedside table where I had put it. The room was dark, but I could clearly make out the rose, glittering faintly at first, then more and more vibrantly. I wanted to get up and examine it, but my limbs, my eyes, were growing too heavy and I couldn't. The last thing I saw before I fell asleep was a blinding flash of light coming from the rose. When I woke up later, I was at Hogwarts with — with the friend I had been speaking with before. Except he looked much younger, and he had no idea who I was or how I had suddenly appeared. That was when I ran to find you, Professor, because I didn't know what else to do."

Hermione set the chocolate rose down on the desk before her and looked up at Dumbledore anxiously, wondering what he would make of all this.

"Before you time traveled, why did you ask your friend if you would see him at Hogwarts?" he inquired. "Is he a professor?"

"Yes, sir. Well, he was."

The Headmaster nodded and continued to sit there deep in thought, his hands clasped together with index fingers to his lips. Hermione knew she shouldn't interrupt his mental processes, but she had to voice what had been troubling her since she'd regained her memory.

"Professor, do you think my friend could have somehow enchanted the rose to send me back in time?"

Dumbledore refocused his gaze on her.

"Do you believe he would do that, Miss Granger?"

"No, he wouldn't," Hermione answered her own disquieting question with utter certainty. "And he couldn't have, could he? I don't know if that's even possible. Enchanting a rose with the power of time travel would take extraordinary skill and extremely powerful magic. And anyway, the rose seemed like a normal rose. I saw him pick it from where it grew in the garden. It only changed after he gave it to me."

"Perhaps it was the act of him giving you the rose and you accepting it which bestowed the rose with magical qualities," Dumbledore posed thoughtfully.

"How do you mean, sir?"

"Perhaps the intention behind the act is what sparked the magic."

"I don't understand, Professor. He was just congratulating me."

"Is there anything more than friendship between you and this man in your time?"

"No, sir," Hermione said, her face growing warm at the unexpected question. "Not at all."

Dumbledore surveyed her blushing face.

"I am not here to judge, Miss Granger. I only wish to help."

"Honestly, Professor, there's nothing between us. We're hardly even friends, really."

Dumbledore continued to study her shrewdly.

"But you have feelings for this man?"

"I…" Hermione hesitated to reveal her most guarded feelings. In a small voice, she asked, "Is that relevant, sir?"

"It may prove to be very much so, yes."

"I do, Professor," she confessed quietly, looking down at her hands. "But I hadn't truly acknowledged them until — well, until all this happened."

Dumbledore was silent. When Hermione looked up at him again, she saw a softness in his eyes she hadn't expected to see.

"Does this man harbor romantic feelings for you as well?" he asked.

Feeling a pang in her heart, she said, "No, he — he's never said or done anything that would suggest that."

"A man who gives a rose to a woman typically does this as a romantic gesture," Dumbledore pointed out.

"Yes, but he didn't mean it like that, Professor," Hermione said, though now she wasn't so sure. Just a couple of hours ago, the teenage Remus had given her a chocolate rose as a romantic gesture… but she needed to focus on the older Remus, the one she knew in her proper time. "He was congratulating me and the flowers were just there. He didn't — it was completely spontaneous."

"Spontaneous actions often reveal more of our true feelings and desires than do our thought-out behaviors. Do you not believe it is possible for this man to have feelings for you?"

Was it possible? As much as Hermione would've liked for the answer to be yes, she found it hard to imagine the Remus she'd known as Professor Lupin being interested in her, much less could she imagine him pursuing a romantic relationship with her like his younger self had. She didn't even know if he was free to pursue her in the future. She had no idea what his relationship status was.

Now that she thought about it, Hermione had never known Remus to be romantically involved with anybody in the years they'd been acquainted. But that didn't mean he never had been. She just knew very little about his personal life. Although he was as kind and friendly with everyone as his younger self was, the older Remus was at the same time more distant and private when it came to certain matters. She knew that his reserved nature probably had a lot to do with his lycanthropy, and she thought that perhaps the stigma surrounding his kind was the reason why he hadn't yet married. Add on top of that stigma the impropriety of being involved with a former student who was half his age…

"I don't know," Hermione told Dumbledore. "But I do know nothing can happen between us, so it doesn't really matter, sir, does it?"

"Of course it matters."

Hermione shook her head.

"Even if he did have feelings for me, I don't believe he'd ever act on them. He would think it inappropriate. He wouldn't be able to look past the age difference, or the fact that I'm his former student, or the fear that he's too dangerous for me because he's a — because — well, that's not the point."

The reality of the older Remus not being able to see her in a romantic light beginning to upset her, Hermione changed the subject.

"Shouldn't we be focusing on the rose, Professor? How it was cursed and why it sent me here? Shouldn't we be trying to figure out how the magic works?"

"I believe I have already worked that out," said Dumbledore humbly.

"You have?" she said, surprised.

"Yes. But before I share with you my theory, I need you to confirm a few suppositions of mine. First, based on what I have observed between the pair of you, I take it you and Mr. Remus Lupin are romantically involved?"

Hermione knew it must be obvious to anyone who had seen them together recently that she and Remus were involved, and she remembered that Dumbledore had also seen them kissing beneath the mistletoe once. So, unable to deny the fact, she said, "Er — yes, sir."

"And it was Remus who gave you this?" asked Dumbledore, indicating the chocolate rose.

"Yes, Professor."

"And the recovered memory of the rose that transported you here was triggered by this chocolate rose?"

Hermione, shifting nervously in her seat now, again affirmed the Headmaster's supposition.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes piercing hers, "am I correct in presuming that the friend who offered you the rose in your time, the friend to whom you were directly sent back in this time, was Remus Lupin?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened. Dumbledore looked at her in something close to amusement.

"I will take that as a yes," he said triumphantly.

Feeling a great need to explain herself, Hermione quickly said, "Professor, please believe me, I — I didn't mean for anything to happen between Remus and me. I didn't—"

Dumbledore put a hand up to silence her.

"I believe that you did not intend for any of this to occur. You do not need to give explanations, nor should you feel guilty about your feelings for Remus. Do you hear me, Miss Granger? Not now, nor in the future."

He looked at her expectantly.

"Okay, sir," she said softly.

Dumbledore smiled.

"Now, for my theory. The rose is not cursed as you alluded to earlier. On the contrary. I believe it is pure, as pure as the sentiment with which it was presented to you."

"But Professor, I'm not sure there was any sentiment."

"It is clear Remus has feelings for you. The two of you are romantically involved."

"In this time, Professor. Not in the future. The situation — it's completely different."

"But Remus's heart is the same."

Dumbledore put his hand up again to keep Hermione from arguing any further, which she appeared to have every intention of doing.

"Please listen to what I have to say, Miss Granger. Some do consider me to be a very wise wizard after all," he said with a good-natured twinkle in his eye.

"I'm sorry, Professor. Please, go on."

"As I was about to say, I am absolutely confident that the magic the rose possesses was born from the act of Remus offering to you the rose — a symbol of his true feelings for you, however unacknowledged they may be in your time — and from your wholehearted acceptance of the rose in return. The sentiment behind the exchange, the sentiment shared by both you and Remus, imbued the rose with the most powerful magic in existence, magic which sent you here, for you to realize the strength of your feelings for Remus and his for you. This magic, unfortunately, will not return you to your time."

Hermione, who had been enthralled by Dumbledore's fairytale-like explanation of the magical rose, now looked at him in shock upon hearing his last statement.

"Excuse me, Professor?"

"If the rose intended to return you to your time, I believe it would have done so in place of returning your memory."

"But — but what does that mean? Does the rose intend for me to stay here?"

"Of that I am not certain."

Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at Hermione.

"Would that be such a terrible thing, Miss Granger? Staying? I only ask because you seem convinced you could not be with Remus in your time. However, as you said so yourself, the situation here is quite different. Furthermore, you have told me in one of our previous meetings that you were starting to feel as though this were your real life and it would feel strange returning home."

This was all very true. As of late, Hermione had been thinking much less about her life in her proper time in the future and much more about Remus here in the past. She wasn't sure if the older Remus could have feelings for her, but like she told Dumbledore, she was fairly certain he wouldn't approach her even if he did. But here they were already together and happy, happier than either of them had ever been…

"No, I can't stay," Hermione said suddenly, her senses catching up to her. There was no way she could stay.

"Why is that?"

"Because I don't belong here, Professor. I couldn't," she stated firmly. "If I stay, too much would change, too much would be affected."

Dumbledore studied her a moment, and noting her resolve he simply said, "Very well, then."

"But sir, if the rose won't return me home, how will I—?"

"Ah, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, raising his finger. "Do not forget…"

The Headmaster reached down and opened his desk drawer. What he pulled out of it made Hermione's stomach drop.

"We requested a Time-Turner from the Ministry," Dumbledore reminded her as he set the large and shiny silver hourglass beside the chocolate rose on the desk between them.

Hermione remembered him telling her during their last meeting that he was supposed to speak with the Ministry. She'd been so preoccupied with Remus lately she'd completely forgotten to ask the Headmaster about how the meeting had went.

"Forgive me for not notifying you as soon as I acquired it as I had promised. I wanted to wait a while in the hope that you would regain the memory we needed in order to learn how you were transported here. I did not feel comfortable sending you back home without first having this knowledge."

Hermione stared at the Time-Turner.

"So...I can go home now?" she said numbly, unsure how she felt about this. She should be happy, shouldn't she?

"If that is your wish."

Was that her wish? Hermione's earlier resolve was wavering. She unwillingly glanced at the chocolate rose, then forced her gaze back to the Time-Turner. She had to go. She shouldn't even entertain the idea of staying.

"Well, I don't really have a choice, do I?" she said more to herself than to Dumbledore.

"You always have a choice," the Headmaster replied.

Hermione wasn't so sure about that.

Hermione entered her dorm to find a box of chocolates waiting for her on the table. A bittersweet smile crossed her face as she thought of Remus. She knew she had to go home soon, but it didn't make the idea of leaving any easier. She tried to console her blues by reminding herself she would see Remus again in the future. It wasn't like this was a real goodbye.

Hermione sighed and opened the inviting box of chocolates. A delicious assortment of her favorite sweets lay inside. She made to pick out one of the dark pieces when, without warning, the box erupted into flames.

She backed away from the table cautiously, but the fire died just as rapidly as it had ignited. A silver Time-Turner was left in its wake. Hermione stared at the simple but potent object, entranced by the sand swirling inside. It was dazzling. Feeling oddly compelled to do so, she touched the hourglass.

The world spun around her and Hermione fell screaming into oblivion. She landed harshly in impenetrable darkness. Clumsily, she got to her feet and looked around, but she couldn't see a thing. Where was she? What just happened? Sensing danger, she began to run, from what or to where she had no idea, but she kept moving, one foot in front of the other until she hurtled into another figure. The Time-Turner she had gripped in her hand shattered upon the impact, the sand slipping through her fingers. At the same time, an eerie glow fell over her and the person she'd collided with.

"Remus! What's going on? Where—?"

Hermione broke off. This Remus had gray in his sandy brown hair…

"Remus," she said breathlessly, her heart leaping at the sight of the man before her. Without thinking, she leapt as well, right into his arms, her lips crashing into his—

Remus pulled away from her in a hurry, a shocked expression on his face. "Hermione — what are you doing?"

And then she remembered this Remus's memory had been Obliviated. He didn't know what they had lived together in his youth. He remembered nothing of what had passed between them, which meant she was nothing to him now, not anymore.

"Oh, I — I'm sorry, I—"

"Forget it," he said, saving her the trouble of coming up with an explanation for her overly familiar greeting. He turned his wary gaze away from her to glance around them. "Where are we? How did we get here?" Then he looked down at his hands and appeared surprised by what he was holding. "What is this?"

"The rose!" Hermione exclaimed, a thrill of instinctive recognition running through her at the sight of the beautiful flower. "That's the rose you gave me! Dumbledore said it's a symbol of our — of our feelings…"

She trailed off, reminding herself that this Remus didn't know anything about their romance in the past.

Eying her warily again, he asked, "What feelings?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked away from him, her gaze returning to the flower in his hands.

"Oh, no!" she cried when the gorgeous red rose suddenly began to change. It quickly wilted and withered before her eyes, turning into a pitiful, shriveled up flower in a matter of seconds. Hermione stepped forward, wanting to somehow save the rose, but an alarmed Remus raised a hand to stop her from coming any closer to him.

"Don't, Hermione."

Her outstretched arms instantly dropped to her sides and she went still.

"I just wanted to see—" she began, but Remus shook his head slightly and Hermione immediately fell quiet. She wanted to speak, but her voice was gone. She tried to move, but her muscles wouldn't respond. She looked at Remus, confused and afraid, but he only gazed at her impassively. Then she realized he was doing this to her. She couldn't move, she couldn't speak — he was keeping her painfully inert. Why?

"I'm sorry," he said, his expression stony.

He took a step back and fear flared within Hermione. She desperately wanted to grab hold of him, to say something to make him stay, but he wouldn't unbind her. She could only watch in helpless silence while he turned from her, dispassionately dropping the dead rose to the ground where it disintegrated, crumbling to dust. She could do nothing as Remus walked away without so much as a backward glance, disappearing into obscurity and leaving her alone to struggle fruitlessly in the fading glow….

Hermione awoke, an awful, aching feeling in her heart.

"A dream," she whispered pleadingly into the darkness. Grateful to find she could move again, she reached for her wand and a moment later illuminated her surroundings. She was in her dorm at Hogwarts, exactly where she should be. She hadn't time traveled. She was still in the past.

"Only a dream," she confirmed, though it wasn't exactly a relief.

Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and wrapped herself up tightly in her blankets. She felt cold, like an icy stake had been driven through her chest. The image of Remus discarding the shriveled rose and walking away from her played over and over in her mind. It'd been a dream, just a dream, but she feared it would soon become a reality.