Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

More Talks and Tears

As sleep gradually overtook her, all she could see behind her closed eyelids were the faces of Harry and Ron, whom she would never be able to see as best friends ever again.

The sun slowly rose and made its way up the sky. Rays of light brightened the ground, trees, and a small room in a tower of a castle. It was one of these rays that made its way into the room to the immobile figure of a young woman curled up on top of a bed. Her long, bushy brown hair was spread out behind her while her hands were tucked up next to her face. The light slowly brought her back from a deep sleep plagued with nightmares from her past.

Hermione very slowly opened her eyes. The entire dormitory was bright, giving it a cheery atmosphere. For others it may have made them happy, but for Hermione it only served to deepen her depression. How could it be so bright out when so many had been killed so recently? Others may have also woken up in denial, thinking that their entire situation was just a strange dream in which they have just woken up. But not her. Not Hermione. She knew that she was alone, in a different time, and that her parents, Harry, and Ron were all dead.

Carefully sitting up and throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, Hermione gazed once more at her surroundings. So familiar, and yet so sad... Shaking her head free of those thoughts, yet knowing that they would soon return, Hermione stood up and stretched. She could not deny that it was nice to sleep in an actual bed, rather than on the ground in a sleeping bag in the middle of nowhere.

Hermione then noticed that there was an extra set of Hogwarts' robes at the foot of the bed she had been sleeping in, with her wand lying on top of them. Silently thanking Dumbledore for this kind gesture, and wondering why he would have taken her wand out of her hands while she was sleeping, she picked them all up and headed to the bathroom.

Hermione walked over to the bathroom, but when she reached it decided against it. A very long, very hot bath with a lot of bubbles sounded extremely appealing right now, and the bathtubs in the dormitories paled in comparison to the prefects' bathroom. From last night she knew that the only place with an actual password was the Headmaster's office, and all of the others were 'password'. She reversed her direction and made her way down the stairs, out the portrait, and towards the prefects' bathroom.

One... Two... Three... Four. The fourth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Hermione said the password and opened the door. Ignoring the majesty of this room made of white marble she went over to the taps that surrounded the edge of a tub the size of a swimming pool and began to turn various ones. The pattern may have seemed random, but you could tell that she knew exactly which ones she wanted to use.

In a short amount of time the tub was full. Hermione carefully peeled off her clothes and dumped them on the floor. She gingerly stepped into the water, easing herself into the heat. Finally she submerged herself completely and laid back. The bottom was so deep that her feet couldn't touch it, so she conjured up a ledge along the entire tub that was the perfect height and length for her to sit on and lean against the edge.

Using some of the different kinds of soaps, shampoos, and conditioners that lined the back edge of the tub, Hermione washed herself free of the dirt and grime that had built up on her body. After that was done, she sat down and relaxed her aching muscles.

Hermione did not know how long it was that she stayed in the water, but it was enough time that a good portion of the bubbles had disappeared and the water was significantly cooler. She climbed out, grabbed a towel and started to dry herself off. When she rubbed her face with the towel, she felt a slight sting. It was then that she noticed the cut on her face. It was long, on the right side, and had been hidden by her hair the night before. Hermione finished drying herself off and went over to the giant sinks and mirrors on the wall.

Hermione carefully looked at the cut. It was extremely close to her hairline, and wasn't that deep. By now it had stopped bleeding, but the washing combined with rubbing it had caused it to hurt slightly. It was about three inches long, a straight,vertical line about an inch from her ear.

I wonder where else I was hurt but couldn't feel it? Hermione wondered as she examined the rest of her body. Other than a very few minor cuts and bruises, she couldn't find anything else wrong with her. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, so she decided to head to the Hospital Wing.

Madame Pomfrey was there doing an inventory on her potions and was more than willing to fuss over Hermione. If she was confused at the appearance of a student a week before school started, she didn't show it. Half an hour later Hermione walked out fully healed with the cut on her face a white scar. She had asked to nurse to keep it because Hermione wanted to remember. Every day she would look at herself in the mirror to remind herself of why she was there. The scar would not allow her to forget.


After the visit to the Hospital Wing Hermione decided that she should probably finish talking with Professor Dumbledore, so she headed to his office.

She let herself in by saying the password, stepped onto the staircase, and went up to the doors. At the doors she paused for a moment with her hand raised, hesitating for some unknown reason. Then she shook off the hesitation and rapped the door quickly three times.

"Come in."

Dumbledore had obviously been expecting her, as he was already sitting at his desk with his fingertips pressed together.

"Please, sit down. Lemon drop?"

"No thank you Professor," Hermione declined politely as she sat down.

There was an awkward silence as both parties waited for the other to break it.

"Miss Granger, I believe that for the sake of your future you should take up a new name. You have insinuated that there are people here that know you, and if your younger self in the future and they should cross paths we do not want to raise any suspicion. Which makes it obvious that you cannot tell anyone of where you are really from."

"I agree."

"Are there any names you can think of that you would respond to as your own?"

"Well... Mya sounds close enough to Hermione that I would recognize it. As for my surname, I have always liked Grey."

"Hermione Granger. Mya Grey. Yes, I do believe that that would be acceptable. Now, as for your 'past' we have already established that I will announce that you transferred due to some personal problems. I could also ask that they not question you about your reasons. However, if people do ask, then you could tell them that you were attending a small private school, but your parents were killed recently and your new guardian- who I think should be one of the staff here- thought it would be better to finish your education at Hogwarts."

Hermione looked slightly confused. Hadn't they already decided that this would be her story? Other than one of the teachers becoming her guardian. "Professor, I thought we had already agreed on that cover story. Except for the whole 'staff member being my new guardian' thing. And, by the way, doesn't that mean that we will have to tell whoever that person may be about my situation? Because I doubt that they would believe that I am their charge when they have never heard of me."

"If you are against telling anyone, I would be more than happy to pose as your guardian. However, I was hoping that you would consent to letting Minerva McGonagall into our little circle. I think she would be-"

"Of course. Professor McGonagall- I trust her. I agree that she would probably be able to help us. Although, I am not completely comfortable in telling her everything. Not because I don't trust her, but because I don't want others pitying me because of what I have gone through. We can tell her about the time travel, but beyond that I would prefer it if she remained in the dark."

"That is more than acceptable. I was also thinking that you might want to do a little bit of shopping for clothing and school supplies. Minerva would be happy to take you anytime you wish. Today, even."

"I'd like that. I kind of want to get out of here. No offense or anything sir."

Dumbledore chuckled. "None taken, none taken at all. I understand."

He then turned to Fawkes and whispered, "I think Minerva should be brought up here now."

Fawkes nodded his head and then, quite suddenly, vanished in a flash of flame.

The Headmaster leaned back and settled his arms on the armrests of his chair. "Now, while we are waiting, I was wondering if there was anything else you would like to discuss."

Hermione shook her head. There were so many questions in her head, but for the life of her she could not seem to voice them.

They sat in silence until Professor McGonagall showed up, her face so much younger than the one Hermione recalled. There were less wrinkles and worry lines, and her hair was completely black, devoid of any gray hairs. Hermione smiled sadly when the thought of how Fred and George probably gave her most of them went through her mind.

Professor McGonagall looked slightly surprised to see the young woman, whom she assumed was a student from her robes, sitting in the Headmaster's office. She turned her head to Professor Dumbledore and asked, "Yes, Albus?"

"Please, sit Minerva." He said indicating to a chair next to Hermione's that he conjured with a wave of his hand.

McGonagall sat down, her back straight with perfect posture. In the next few seconds of silence she cast surreptitious looks at Hermione.

"Minerva I have asked you here to help me with a rather- shall we say- unique situation." Dumbledore said delicately while leaning back in his chair. "This young woman is from the future."

"The future?" the Professor asked in shock. "How far?"

"Almost nineteen years exactly it would seem."

McGonagall's eyes widened as she slumped against the back of her seat.

"What?" she whispered, now staring openly at Hermione.

Hermione turned to look at her Transfiguration professor with a small smile.

"Hello Professor McGonagall. It's good to see you again."

This seemed to shock the woman into regaining her composure. She sat up and let her eyes take on their normal size.

"How did this happen?"

"We are not quite sure." Dumbledore said with a slight frown. "We believe it may have been a combination of two incantations hitting her at once, but there is no way to be certain. Unless..." the Headmaster trailed off as his brow furrowed in thought.

"What?" both Hermione and McGonagall said at the same time.

"Miss Granger," then Dumbledore paused. "How adverse would you be to us examining your memories?"