Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me but Draco is sooooooo hot!

One of the fastest I've ever updated! Needed to get all these technical details over with so here it is.

Have reposted due to some plot holes I missed the first time. Thank you for pointing them out, you guys! Cor, my writing would be a complete mess if I didn't have all of you hereto keep me on my feet...

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Chapter 1

"Hey, wake up."

The feeling of rough grass scraped against her back as someone shook her shoulder gently. Hermione groaned, cracking open her eyes to see a dark figure looming over her. Allowing herself to be hoisted up into a sitting position, she quickly shut her eyes again as the world around her spun uncontrollably in a flurry of dancing colours. Her head was killing her.

"Blimey, wha' happened to you?"

Large hands gingerly pushed the straggly strands of dark hair from her face, unknowingly brushing against the bleeding wounds hidden under her hair. Hermione winced, pulling away from the massive figure crouched down next to her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, yeh look like yeh've been tanglin' with a dragon. And yeh sure ain't the winner."

The voice and pattern of speech sounded oddly familiar but Hermione simply did not have the strength to figure out why. She had never time travelled so far back in time before and the swirling of her surroundings had yet to cease. A shaking hand came up to clamp over her mouth as a wave of nausea threatened to spew out.

"I…I'm sorry but I'm not feeling well…"

There was a loud sound of slapping; apparently her companion had just hit himself on the forehead.

"Gawds, I can't believe I fergot! And here I am just sittin' and talkin' to yeh!"

With that, he bent towards her and before Hermione could open her mouth to utter a feeble protest, he had scooped her up in his arms and was striding hurriedly away.

"It's alright…I can walk."

The boy shook his head. The sun was still in her eyes and she could only barely make out the outline of his shaggy head.

"I'm takin' yeh straight to the school nurse. Them injuries look serious."

"Injuries?"

The word broke the dam of dizziness holding back her memories and they came rushing over her in a horrifying maelstrom. Hermione whipped her head around, wide eyes fully taking in her surroundings for the first time.

She was in still in the Forbidden Forest. But instead of burning trees and scorched grass wrought by a bevy of curses, the environment was untouched. The towering oaks were still shading them, occasionally letting in a sliver or two of sunlight as it peeked through the leafy canopy high above. The scenery changed as her companion left the forest to briskly wind his way up a steep hill. A hill she had run up and down many times before.

"I'm back!"

"Eh?"

The figure peered down at her curiously.

"Excuse me, what year is it?"

Even without seeing it, Hermione could easily feel the surprise emanating from him. She figured he would be scratching his head right about now if it was not for the fact that he was holding her awkwardly in his arms.

"Well, it's 1943. You musta hit yer head hard, yeh poor thing."

She took a deep, steadying breath. The crisp mountain air did wonders for clearing her mind. Even the mustier scent of the castle as they traversed their way through the old corridors was wonderfully familiar.

"I need to…can you take me to see Albus Dumbledore? It's urgent."

"Professor Dumbledore? 'Course I can. But yeh still gotta see the nurse first..."

"No...please, I'm quite alright. I know some healing spells." His doubtful skepticism was glaringly obvious. "I mean, even if I can't do it myself, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore can do just as good of a job as any nurse!"

"Yeah, yeah I guess yeh're right. But yeh gotta make sure yeh see Madame Giggili if it don't heal well. Wotcher need the Professor fer?"

Hermione just shook her head apologetically. Gratefully, he did not press further.

"What's yer name, then?"

"Hermione."

"Pleased ter meet yeh, Hermione. Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of school grounds."

"Hi, Hagrid."

Smiling up at him, she wondered at how different their old friend looked without his trademark beard. Definitely younger and rather like a very large version of Neville really.

They traveled in companionable silence as he wound his way up the stairs towards what Hargid explained as the direction of the Headmaster's office. He assured her that it was his job to bring all visitors to the Headmaster; he did not mean for her to take offense. Hermione found herself being gently lowered to the ground. Wobbling precariously the moment her feet touched the stone floor, she gave a shaky laugh when Hagrid shot out a heavy hand to steady her on the shoulder in alarm.

"I'm alright. Just a bit woozy."

"Yeh sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Hagrid."

He seemed hesitant about leaving her there in the hallway by herself but came to the conclusion that he had no choice.

"I'll be sending Professor Dumbledore to yeh. Shouldn't be too long – busy man, he is, but always makes him fer his students…"

She nodded brightly to catch his attention, hoping to halt the inevitable flow of praise before he got in too deep. Smiling widely in reply, he blundered off, his great overcoat dragging behind him.

Given the general air of calmness in the school, Hermione guessed that the school term had not started yet; this was a stroke of good luck. She wanted to make the most of her time here before the seventh years got too swamped with N.E.W.T.S and assignments. Sagging against the cool wall, she closed her eyes for a brief moment. The events of last few days flashed before her and she quickly opened them again to banish the overwhelming sense of loss threatening to seize control of her body. There was no time for self-pity. And if she somehow manages to succeed in her mission, there would be no need for it either.

Trying to relax the tension in her neck, Hermione grimaced when the movement tore open a particularly deep cut there. Touching her wand to the bleeding area, she muttered a quick healing spell, wincing again when she felt the ragged flesh begin to knit itself. Disappointed that there was not a mirror nearby, she tried to heal as many of her wounds as she could. There was no way she could come up with a half-plausible story when she looked like she'd just escaped from Azkaban. Bemoaning her ragged and dirt-encrusted robes, Hermione futilely ran her hands through the tangled rat's nest on her head. She did so like to make a good first impression.

"Nothing a good long shower won't fix, my dear."

She glanced up in surprise. She had not heard anyone approach. The rosy face of an older witch smiled kindly back at her from one of the portraits on the opposite wall.

"Hmm? Yes, I suppose so. Although I didn't really have any time to take one for the past few days."

"Good gracious, child!" The woman in the painting looked suitably shocked. "What on earth have you been doing?"

"Oh, I dunno. Time flies."

She snickered at her little pun. It was good to know that she had not lost what little sense of humour she had.

"I'm sure it does, my dear."

This time, the address came in the form of a deeper, similarly amused tone of voice. Turning to her right, Hermione blinked up into the long-lost face of Albus Dumbledore. He was very much like she remembered, only with a brown beard and a less lined, more carefree face. The trademark little twinkle was presently directed at her from over half-moon glasses and Hermione could feel the tears starting to well up at the sight. If only…if only she could see everyone again! What she wouldn't give to feel this warm rush of joy and relief upon hearing the boys yell at her to stop being such a swot and to get her nose out of her books!

"My dear child, it makes me quite nervous to see someone cry at the sight of me. Come now, take this."

He stretched out his hand. Hermione looked down at the small, yellow candy lying there and promptly burst into loud, hiccupping sobs.

Lemondrop.

It was too much for her to handle. It was like time had never passed; here she was, once again, standing in the halls of Hogwarts, being offered a piece of candy by her Headmaster under the most bewildering circumstances.

Oh wait, time has passed. Backwards, in fact.

Suddenly recollecting her situation, Hermione forced her wails to subside. Shyly accepting the proffered treat, she lowered her head, desperately trying to come up with a way to convince Dumbledore to let her stay in the school.

"Headmaster, I…"

"Professor, my dear. The Headmaster of Hogwarts is Armando Dippet."

Cursing herself for her slip-up, Hermione was surprised to detect no hint of suspicion in his voice. If anything, he merely sounded even more amused.

"Yes, Professor. I was wondering if I could enroll here. This year, I mean."

The thin brows lifted at her blunt request. She had decided that a straight-forward approach would probably be most effective. By keeping her answers truthful, it would minimize the chances of her slipping up again and contradicting an earlier story. Besides, it was not like she had anything to hide.

Well, except the fact that you haven't been born yet and you came back to stop one of his students from going bonkers and destroying the world.

Right, except for that.

"Enroll? This is quite sudden and rather unexpected."

"I'm a transf…"

The easy lie was on the tip of her tongue but there was something about the way he was looking at her that stopped it. The obvious amusement in his eyes was too lively than was warranted by the situation. In fact, Hermione had the sneaky suspicion that this Dumbledore knew. And that he was just toying with her.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to just plunge right in. Best to get it over with as quick as possible.

"I'm from the future, sir. Well, that is to say, I will be attending Hogwarts about 50 years from now but I'm here because there's this really important thing I have to do…"

She said all of this very fast. Silence fell between the two of them as they stood there staring at each other. Hermione gave an audible sigh of relief when that twinkle stretched into a full-blown grin.

"Indeed? And judging from your previous comment, I become the Headmaster, you say?"

Of all the replies he could have made, this was not the one she had been expecting. The girl nodded slowly, unsure of what to make of this.

"Yes…"

"Well then, I suppose it's not a problem to get you settled in here. We'll just say that you've transferred from another school. After all, that is what you were planning to say, wasn't it, Miss Granger?"

"I…I…"

Her flushed blathering was met with another wide smile as the tall wizard turned to murmur to the stone gargoyle marking the entrance to the Headmaster's office. As the winding staircase appeared, Hermione followed behind him wordlessly. Something he had said was nagging at her.

"Excuse me, Professor?"

He paused at the threshold of the large office door.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"That's just it, sir. How did you know my name?"

"Hmm? You didn't tell me?"

She shook her head, eyes narrowing at the overly-innocent lilt in his voice. The man was infuriating.

"Then Hagrid must have told me. Miss Hermione Granger, isn't it?"

He knocked lightly on the door and pushed it open, gesturing for her to enter first. She stepped in, her head held high. The circular room was papered in a mossy green, the customary portraits of past headmasters snoring down at her from the walls. A small, thin man was seated on behind the long desk, sorting through various mounds of paper and odd contraptions.

"Headmaster, I'd like to introduce Miss Hermione Granger."

The frail old wizard blinked blearily at her, straightening the pointed navy hat on his balding head as he stood up.

"Eh, who's this, Albus? Granger, you say?"

"Yes, she's a transfer who plans on joining us for…," he slanted her a look, at which she nodded discreetly, "…her seventh year."

Dippet frowned.

"This is most irregular. Come closer, Miss Granger."

Hermione walked towards the desk, trying not to fidget as his crinkled eyes swept over her mussed-up appearance. His kindly smile took her off-guard though.

"Looks like you've had a rough trip, my dear. Don't worry now, we'll get you settled down in no time. Normally, I'd have had to question you about this…sudden request, but I presume Professor Dumbledore here has already done so since he decided it was worth it to bring you here."

To her relief, Dumbledore gave no indication to the otherwise. She nodded, giving him a tentative smile back. He seemed nice, if a bit too trusting.

"Seventh year…we have quite a few things to sort through then. How are your grades, my dear?"

"I've got 11 O.W.L.S: ten Outstandings and one Exceeds expectations in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Really, now? That's very impressive, Miss Granger! This really is most fortunate…well, before we get to that, I'm afraid I'm going to ask you to verify that. Just to make sure, you know how things are."

"Yes, of course, Headmaster."

He pointed his wand at her forehead, murmuring some unfamiliar words as his wand began to emit a white light. Lowering his arm, he smiled even warmer than before.

"Very impressive indeed, Miss Granger. In that case, I'm extremely happy to offer you the position of Head Girl at Hogwarts."

Hermione gasped. It was like Christmas in September!

"Head...Head Girl? But hasn't someone already been chosen? Over the summer, I mean?"

Dippet frowned again, his expression slightly confused.

"That is how it usually works, but for some reason it hasn't been done yet this year. I'm not quite sure how that happened…but in any case,since your marks surpass any of the others by far, it would not be out of procedure for me to offer you this post. Do say you'll consider it, my dear."

"Yes…yes, of course! I'm very honoured, Headmaster."

"Good, good. Fortunate how these things work out, eh Dumbledore? It wouldn't be seemly to have our Head Girl sorted along with the rest of the first-years so we'll get that done now."

Hermione sat on one of the spindly chairs in front of the desk, her mind whirling with the new development. She only absently acknowledged the Sorting Hat's announcement of 'Gryffindor' and the conversation between the two wizards.

"I'll introduce you to this year's Head Boy, Miss Granger. He'll be the one you'll share the Head Common Room with. You two get your own rooms; one of the many perks, you see. Charming young fellow and obviously, very clever like yourself. I'm sure you'll get along swimmingly."

She nodded absently. It did not really matter who the Head Boy was but Hermione was too busy thinking over the rapid development in her situation to be anything more than mildly interested.

"I believe our new Head Boy is out studying in the west courtyard."

"Really, now? Studying already even before the start of the school term? Young Mr Riddle certainly is hard-working."

"Would you likeme to fetch him, Dippet?"

"Yes, of course. If you would be so kind, Dumbledore?"

"Certainly."

Dumbledore flicked his wand lazily, no doubt performing some sort of simple, messenger spell. He then turned that memorable twinkle on her, indulgently taking in her glowing expression as she sat there staring at him in silence.

"You seem somewhat shell-shocked, my dear."

The teasing tone was merry but not unkind. Hermione flushed, diverting her gaze back down to her clasped hands. She probably looked like an infatuated schoolgirl! She shuddered at the thought.

"No, sir. I mean, I'm just a little um…nervous. You know, starting a new school and all…"

He twinkled at her again. She had forgotten how annoying it could be.

"Well, that's understandable Miss Granger. After all, this is a new time for you."

She glared at him, narrowing her eyes as he merely smiled crookedly at her from under a long brown beard. Hermione barely refrained herself from sticking out her tongue childishly when a crisp knock sounded and the heavy oak door opened.

She saw him.

Memories of the past year flitted in front of her eyes like some sort of sick, unstoppable film. Dumbledore's funeral. The ever-present starkness in Harry's green eyes. The Dark Mark over her parents' home. The lingering smell of her mother's apple pie as their still bodies slumped over the kitchen table. Ron jumping in front of her to block a wayward curse. The heavy thump of his body as it hit the ground. The salty taste of her tears as she shook him hysterically. Harry's body as it twisted in the air, suspended by yet another blinding green light. The grotesque inhuman face of the murderer who had soaked her world in blood.

Hermione retched. Falling to her hands and knees, she was only dimly aware of someone pulling back the hair from her face and murmuring quiet words of consolation as she threw up on the stone floor of the Headmaster's office. When there was nothing left to heave up, Hermione sat back, choking down the sobs of grief and loss as she wiped her mouth with the back of a shaky hand.

"Here."

A crisp white handkerchief appeared in front of her face. Following the hand that was holding it, she focused her eyes on the tall, dark-haired boy standing next to her.

The cause of her pain was now offering her his handkerchief for crying out loud.

Hermione's mind appreciated the irony.

"No."

Turning away from him, she offered up a small, sheepish smile at the face of Albus Dumbledore. The realization that she had just vomited very publicly and loudly in front of everyone was finally striking her and Hermione had to fight the urge to jump up and run out of the door in mortification. A set of twinkling blue eyes met her wide brown ones as the wizard gently released his hold on her hair.

"Now, now. No need to be embarrassed. Have a drink, my dear."

He conjured up a glass of water. Hermione gratefully gulped it down, washing away the acidic taste in her mouth as she watched him quickly erase the stains on the floor with a simple flick of his wand. The back of her mind noted that the rejected handkerchief had disappeared as well. Voldemort, no, Tom Riddle, was standing wordlessly in his place, regarding her apathetically.

She refused to look up at him.

"Tom, this is Miss Hermione Granger. She is our new Head Girl."

"Tom Riddle."

His voice betrayed only the slightest hint of surprise. He did not comment, however, on the sudden turn of events. Hermione scowled at the outstretched hand, loath to touch him. It was pale, with the long fingers she remembered.

"Sorry, don't want you catch my germs. Sick, you know."

She managed to keep the hostility in her voice to a minimum but was uncomfortably aware of the three pairs of eyes on her.

Get a hold of yourself, Granger!

The silence in the room was broken by a low cough. Dippet smiled at the two students, one glaring determinedly at the floor while the other steadily observed her as she did so.

"Well then, Tom, if you would be so kind as to show Miss Granger to her room. The rest of the students are coming back tomorrow so you'll want to rest up and get things in order before the Sorting Ceremony tomorrow night, Miss Granger."

She nodded, flashing a small smile at the two professors before obediently following the future Dark Lord out of the room.

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A/N: Now before you go and say it, I wanted to clarify that the little...discrepancy...(I won't mention what it is just in case someone didn't pick up on it) was not a careless mistake...hm, so complex haha.

Please do review - I enjoy reading what you guys think and it really helps me when coming up with ideas or ways to improve! As always, all responses to reviews will be posted on my profile page. Thank you!