Your Hidden Past

'She's gone!'

This panicked shout echoed within the quiet circular Gryffindor common room, decorated in red and gold, the walls filled with half a dozen of portraits with occupants that all snoozed gently within their frames.

'Ginny checked. She isn't in the dorm. You checked the map, and there's no sign of her. Hermione's gone!'

A frantic red-haired boy, of about seventeen, paced over the hearthrug by the fireplace, while another boy his age, this one with messy jet-black hair, sat in one of the large arm chairs.

'She can't be gone,' said the boy with the messy hair, who went by the name of Harry Potter, rationally. 'She's probably in the Room of Requirement, or possibly just in Hogsmeade, doing some shopping – '

The boy with red hair narrowed his eyes. 'Why would she do such a thing, Harry? And why wouldn't she tell us?'

To this, Harry Potter did not have an answer, and he watched in silence as his red-haired companion, Ronald Weasley, continued to pace. Suddenly, he halted and turned to Harry, his face the colour of ash.

'Harry, what if he's got her?'

'This is no time for you to just stand there! Move!'

Ronald Weasley did not seem to realise that however much he shouted, the stone gargoyle guarding the office would continue to sit there, unmoving, until the correct password was given.

Fate decided to be generous to Ronald, however, and the stone gargoyle hopped aside as the wall behind it began to split in two, revealing a spiral staircase that was smoothly moving upwards.

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley quickly stepped onto the spiral staircase, and Ron gave a small shudder when the wall closed itself again behind them. Up and up, higher and higher they went until, at long last, they reached a familiar oak door, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffon.

Harry reached out towards it, but Ron was ahead of him, and simply pushed the door open. Harry gave Ron a look, which Ron pointedly ignored, as he marched into the office. Ronald Weasley had never been one for patience, especially not when someone he cared for deeply was in danger.

'Professor! It's Hermione! She's disappeared!'

Minerva McGonagall looked up from a high stack of paperwork, her eyes quickly narrowing behind her square glasses.

'Are you absolutely sure about this, Mr. Weasley?'

'Of course I am!' snapped Ron. 'We were supposed to leave tomorrow for Brighton, but Hermione had insisted on following Binns' class one more time, Merlin knows why, and now she's gone!'

Professor McGonagall frowned, and she gestured for both boys to sit, which they did. 'When was the last time you saw her?'

'When she left for class this morning,' Harry told her. Ron nodded his assent.

'Did Miss Granger join you for breakfast?'

'Yes,' Harry said. Ron nodded again.

The Professor's frown deepened. 'Are you quite sure she isn't up in her dormitory?'

'Ginny checked for us, she isn't.'

Minerva McGonagall fell silent, and Ron watched her anxiously.

'We – we think You-Know-Who's got her.'

'Don't talk nonsense, Mr. Weasley,' barked McGonagall. 'You-Know-Who cannot enter school premises. We made sure of that last year.'

Ron shut his mouth, but didn't seem satisfied. Harry seemed to be in a similar state, and the Headmistress sighed deeply, and cleared her throat.

'I shall notify the Order.'

It surely wasn't comfortable, Hermione decided, to sit at the Gryffindor table. Normally, she wouldn't have minded. She would've sat there quietly, eating an apple or two, or perhaps reading a book, like Hogwarts: A History. Today, however, she did nothing of the sort.

The Gryffindors, especially those in fourth year and above, all seemed to have noticed there was a new student amongst them, and some were openly staring at her, while others just shot her puzzled looks. It was making Hermione distinctly uncomfortable.

She had received her timetable from a burly fifth year a while ago, and she noticed she had Double Potions first. She thought of going towards the dungeons early, and made a move to get up, but remembered at the last moment that she wasn't supposed to know where those things were.

Looking around, she spotted a familiar red-haired girl entering the Great Hall, and she quickly rose (she wasn't about to sit down again, for she was sure it would make her look faintly ridiculous). Lily Evans smiled as she walked over.

'I need to get to class, but I don't know where to – '

Hermione tailed off, showing Lily her timetable. Lily simply smiled. 'Potions is always given in the dungeons. If you wait here for a moment, I'll take you there.'

After her breakfast, Lily escorted Hermione towards the dungeons, saying things like, 'You can best go left here, it's shorter,' and 'Watch out for that staircase, it likes to change.' They reached the Potions classroom with nearly five minutes to spare, and the larger part of the class was already standing there.

James Potter gave her a smile as she and Lily moved to stand next to him, and Hermione returned it, somewhat gratefully. Hermione was still clutching her timetable, and she meant to put it back in her bag. Before she could, it was snatched out of her hands.

'Got into Potions then, too, Puckle?' said a pleasant voice, and Hermione heard Lily sigh next to her.

'I'd rather you'd give me that back,' said Hermione coolly.

Sirius Black grinned down at her. 'Arw, come on, Puckle, don't be like Evans.'

Lily snatched it back out of his hands, and Hermione gave her a grateful smile, and tucked the timetable safely in her bag. Sirius simply shrugged, and stood next to James, who looked a bit annoyed.

The bell rang, and the classroom door opened. As Lily led her inside, Hermione heard Sirius say 'Keep your knickers on, Prongs, she won't like you any less.'

The dungeons were darker than Hermione could ever remember them to be, and there were a few odd vapours and smells present. When Hermione gave Lily a look, Lily simply shrugged, and sat down near the front, pulling Hermione with her. Hermione wasn't sure whether to be relieved by the fact that James and Sirius went to sit behind her, or frightened.

'Now then, now then,' said Professor Slughorn importantly, and his moustache curved above his smiling mouth when he noticed Lily sitting so close at the front. 'Kits out, copies of your Advanced Potion-Making also, on page 113, like we did last year... '

Hermione took out the Advanced Potion-Making she'd bought in Diagon Alley with McGonagall, and suddenly had to repress the urge to go over where Snape was sitting a few feet away to strangle him.

'We will be making Amortentia today. Can anyone tell me what it is?'

Hermione's hand shot in the air, but Lily's also did, and Slughorn turned to her, look extraordinarily pleased. 'Miss Evans?'

'It's the most powerful love potion known to wizard kind,' said Lily promptly. 'It is easily recognisable because of its mother-of-pearl sheen and the strange, spiralling pattern of the steam.'

Slughorn beamed, and Hermione lowered her hand. Behind her, she heard James sigh. Slughorn seemed not to have noticed. 'And what about to smell?'

Hermione's hand rose again, as did Lily's, but Sirius' accompanied theirs. Slughorn looked shocked, but nodded to him. 'It smells differently to each and every wizard, according to what we find attractive,' Sirius told him, and Slughorn looked even more shocked.

'Correct. Both you and Miss Evans take five points for Gryffindor.' Everyone, except for Professor Slughorn, had by then discovered Sirius had read this off the description the book gave off the potion. Snape, from where he was sitting, shot Sirius a venomous look, to which Sirius only grinned.

'By turning to page thirty of your books, you will find your instructions. Ingredients, might you need any extra, can be found in the Potions cabinet. Off you go!'

Fifty minutes into the class, when Hermione and Lily's potions had both taken on a perfect shade of grey, while Sirius' and James' were murky brown and violent magenta respectively, and Slughorn had called them all to a halt to let them see how perfect the potion of one of the Slytherins was, the door suddenly fell open, and a tiny boy scuttled in.

'S – Sorry I'm late, Professor,' squeaked the boy. Slughorn glared at him, and wordlessly pointed to the seat next to Snape.

'Can't I sit next to James?' the boy squeaked again, and Hermione started to find his squeaking a bit annoying.

'You will sit next to Mr. Snape,' said Slughorn menacingly, and the boy fell silent and sat down next to Snape, who didn't seem to be very pleased with the recent change in the seating arrangements.

'Now, as you can see,' continued Slughorn, 'the potion Wilkes has brewed here is a perfect – what is it now, Pemflew?'

'What kind of Potion are we making, sir?' squeaked the boy. He either couldn't talk normally, or he was quite frightened. Hermione thought it to be the latter, and suddenly felt a surge of warmth for the boy. He reminded her of Neville.

'Amortentia,' snapped Slughorn. The boy quickly took out his battered copy of Advanced Potion-Making and started to work on his potion, while Slughorn continued to praise work of several Slytherins, and Lily. Near the end of the lesson, he halted next to Hermione, a curious expression on his face.

'And who might you be, girl?'

'Jane Puckle, sir,' said Hermione, after nearly blurting out her real name. Professor Slughorn bent over her desk to inspect her potion, something which was made quite difficult by his large belly, and nodded. 'New, I suppose?' he asked, stirring the potion slightly with his wand, seemingly satisfied when it didn't do anything.

'Yes, sir,' answered Hermione, and Slughorn nodded again. He didn't say anything to her the remainder of the lesson, but when they all had to hand in a flask of their potion at his desk, he gave Hermione a somewhat strained smile.

After Lunch, both Lily and Hermione had Arithmancy, and Hermione was surprised to find that it was given by Professor Vector, though she did look quite a lot younger, and more energetic.

'Good afternoon, class. Page ninety-four.'

Hermione opened her book to the assigned page, and watched Lily do the same. A couple of rows in front of them, a boy raised his hand.

'Yes?'

'I'm afraid my copy is still in the dormitory, Professor.' He did sound sincerely sorry, but his hand kept twitching, which Hermione found a bit odd.

'Oh, dear. Well, then, I'm sure your neighbour wouldn't mind sharing his copy with you,' said the Professor, nodding to the taller Hufflepuff boy that was sitting at the same desk as he was. The boy shrugged, and shoved his book to the middle, so that the boy who'd forgotten his book could look at it as well.

'Who's that?' whispered Hermione to Lily, who had been checking her bag for something.

'Who?' asked Lily, looking up from her bag in an irritated manner. Hermione pointed to the front row, towards the boy who'd forgotten his book.

'That's Edward McMillan,' said Lily, before returning to her bag. Hermione studied the boy's light brown hair, feeling quite sure that she'd heard that name before.

'Of course!' said Hermione, more loudly than she intended, suddenly remembering there was a Hufflepuff in her year that had the same surname.

The boys both had looked around at her, as had the rest of the class. Professor Vector looked faintly amused. 'What is it, dear?'

'N – Nothing, Professor.'

The boy on the right, who'd forgotten his book, was looking at her with interest, and Hermione blinked at him before staring down at her notes again.

The Order of the Phoenix had relocated, and number 12, Grimmauld Place, had fallen into despair. The rooms that had been cleaned out were slowly becoming infested with dark creatures again, dust crept into ever nook and cranny it could find, and Kreacher wondered about, muttering darkly under his breath.

Remus Lupin had, of course, known happier places, and happier times. The cracked ceiling of the study he was sitting in leaked water into his tea, but he hardly noticed. An old copy of the Evening Standard was lying abandoned on his lap, when, quite suddenly, his head began to ache.

Blood that would've normally run down his body, rushed back to his head, and he felt hot and cold together. His pupils grew bigger, forcing the colour out of his eyes. He faintly remembered thinking this was certainly something he'd never experienced before.

'Nothing, absolutely nothing!'

Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter had not left the office of the Headmistress, and Lunch had just passed. Ron had hit the table in frustration, and Professor McGonagall was about to snap at him for doing so (it was a very valuable desk), when the fireplace lit itself up suddenly.

The head of Remus Lupin appeared in it, and he didn't even look remotely surprised to find both Harry and Ron there. Minerva McGonagall rounded him as he croaked out her name.

'Yes, Remus?'

Ron and Harry were both leaning forward, anxious to hear if there was any news on Hermione, who'd been missing for nearly five hours.

'I know where she is.'

Ron whooped his fist into the air, and Harry and Professor McGonagall looked relieved. At least they'd found her.

Expecting the worst, Harry softly asked, 'Where is she, Professor?'

Remus turned to them, surprised, as if he'd only just noticed them. 'Harry, Ron, I think it's best if I had a private word with the Headmistress.'

Harry and Ron immediately started to protest, but McGonagall shushed them. 'Potter, Weasley, return to your dormitories. I shall come down and speak with you soon.'

Ron muttered darkly under his breath and got up, shoving his chair back against the wood with a nasty scraping sound. He glared at Remus in the fire, and stormed out. Harry followed suit, albeit a bit more quietly, but halted by the door, and rounded the fire again.

'We'll find out, you know,' he said.

He'd already closed the door when Remus gave a soft, 'That's what I'm afraid of, Harry.'

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who left a review. To answer a burning question; Puckle was Jo Rowling's original surname for Hermione.

This chapter was noticeably longer, and you might even expect them to be even longer in the future, if time permits it, of course.

Disclaimer (applies to all chapters): Harry Potter belongs to Jo Rowling. I do not claim to own him, or any other character in the book. The plot to this story, however, belongs to me.