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A Great Distance

Chapter 2

Hermione tiptoed through the deserted corridors of the Castle, the heels of her boots making a soft clicking sound with every step. She went to the kitchen's first, but couldn't find the entrance. Sighing in annoyance she headed upstairs, negotiating the changing staircases and a suit of armour that turned its head as she slowly walked past.

She headed to Gryffindor Tower, the familiar walk doing little to sooth her increasing nerves. Now that she was inside the castle the changes between this time, and the one she knew were even more pronounced. Most of the portraits were gone, there were a few here and there, but for the most part the walls were bare, and the castle was quiet. For mid-afternoon it was unusual, it must be the middle of the summer holiday's for it to be this quiet.

The entrance to Gryffindor Tower came into sight and she stopped in shock. Instead of the portrait of The Fat Lady there was a large tapestry hanging from the ceiling to the floor. Her jaw dropped, it was beautiful, detailed and made with time and care, as she stared at in awe the little embroidered figures moved across the material. She walked forward to get a closer look.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice said from behind her.

With a loud gasp, Hermione turned around, her wand held out in front of her. She found herself staring at the point of another. Swallowing the lump in her throat she raised her eyes. Staring up into the face of a tall, wide shouldered man in a red tunic, sleeveless vest, and breeches. There as a golden sword strapped to his waist. His think reddish-gold hair and beard was long and bushy.

Like a lions.

She was so shocked she didn't even have time to mutter a counter spell.

"Expelliarmus," he snapped, and her wand flew out of her hand. He reached out and caught it easily, he looked down at her wand curiously and turned it over in his fingers.

Her eyes were wide with surprise. "Gryffindor?" she whispered. Having recognised the founder of her house from the detailed entry in her favourite book. (Hogwarts, A history)

He glanced up, a surprised look on his face. "Aye, it is," he said with a frown. "May I ask who you are?"

She licked her lips nervously. "Hermione. Hermione Granger," she said quietly.

He frowned, but that wasn't unusual. She was used to strangers reacting to her name. "Hermione," he said, testing the name on his lips. "What are you doing here, you are no student of this school, of that I am certain, and your clothes are very strange indeed."

Hermione glanced down, conscious that her fitted black pants, and white (almost sheer) blouse was not exactly the most appropriate attire for a woman of the tenth century.

"No, I'm not. I finished my seventh year over a decade ago."

Godric frowned again. "Seventh year? We only teach five, and the school has only been open a decade. I certainly don't remember you."

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, how much should she tell him? "You wouldn't, I'm not from around here." He opened his mouth to speak again but she held up her hand to stop him, she had to say it now or she would convince herself otherwise – and he needed to know. "I'm from the year 2006."

Godric Gryffindor, the founder of the bravest House in Hogwarts stared at her like she had suddenly started speaking gibberish. She didn't think the counter curse would be particularly helpful in this scenario so she kept quiet.

"2006," he said slowly, trying to come to terms with this startling news.

He looked her slowly up and down, taking in her clothes and the way she held herself with confidence. He glanced down at her wand and turned it over in his hands. "When I became a teacher at this school I thought I would stop being surprised," he said to her as he looked her in the eye and smiled. "But you've certainly changed that. How did you get here?"

Hermione reached under her shirt and pulled the chain over her head. She handed the Time Turner to Gryffindor. He examined it critically, muttering a few words under his breath, but the Time Turner was broken, and didn't do anything. "What is this? I have never seen anything like this before."

"It's a Time Turner," she explained. "It does pretty much what it says it does. But it's broken." He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she smirked. He frowned in annoyance.

She cleared her throat. "I was hoping you might be able to fix it."

"I won't be able to help, fiddly things like this - I never mastered those intricate spells. No, this will much more suited to Salazar, and Rowena," he said, as he handed her back her wand.

Hermione pocketed the wand. Slytherin and Ravenclaw. She thought in awe. Then the reality came crashing down. And she remembered how she had come to this school in the first place. "I would like that," she said, hardly believing it herself.

(v)

It was very strange to be sitting again in Dumbledore's office. It resembled nothing like the room she remembered. There were no comforts from the twentieth century, no Fawkes sitting on his perch. She was sitting in a chair opposite the desk, Godric was sitting on the other side, directly facing her. Two other people were in the room with them, both around her age or a little older. She took a deep breath and sat quietly as they stared at her. She knew it must be strange for them, and so she kept quiet, taking the opportunity to study the two women in front of her.

The first was a short, blonde woman, who was sitting next to Godric. With a heart-shaped face, and her hair pulled up in a bun, she seemed very cheerful, and bubbly. She stared at Hermione with interest, smiling when she noticed the other witch watching her. This must be Hufflepuff, Hermione though, unable to help smiling back.

The woman standing on Godric's other side was tall and willowy thin, with a fine-boned face with big, bright hazel eyes. Long hair the colour of dark chocolate fell to her waist in ringlets.

The three continued to look at her curiously for a few minutes. Finally Hermione cleared her throat. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, not feeling very sorry at all, "but can you help me?"

"This is extraordinary," the dark haired witch said as she picked up the Time Turner, Hermione had handed over and examined it closely. She was fascinated, never seeing anything like this in her entire life. "How on earth did they make this?"

"I don't know," Hermione said quietly, "I was hoping you could tell me. You're Ravenclaw after all."

Rowena glanced up, an amused expression on her face. "You've heard of me?"

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure. Of course. I've heard of all of you. You're the School Houses."

The three founders looked at each other in shock. "The school houses?" Helga said quietly.

"Yes," Hermione answered, realising she had probably mentioned too much, but she couldn't back out now. "When I went to Hogwarts students were separated into different houses depending on their different personality traits. Gryffindor – which is my house," she said with a smile, "Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

"There are enough students for that?" Helga asked again in shock. Hermione nodded.

"Salazar will be pleased," Gryffindor said dryly.

Hermione bit her lip. She could guess exactly what the other founder would have to say. In her time it was common knowledge that Salazar Slytherin hated muggleborn witches and wizards, like she herself was. Wanting to keep the knowledge of witchcraft within the families that were born to it, and not those who came from muggle (non-magical folk) families. She was not looking forward to meeting him at all.

She imagined the man behind the house that had produced the worst Dark Wizard in history couldn't be a very nice man. She glanced up at the others as they continued to look at her. "Students are sorted into houses based on your own values, they used an old hat, bewitched it so that it could read the students inner most secrets and abilities. It almost sorted me into Ravenclaw," she said with another smile, "but in the end, it felt Gryffindor would suit me better."

"How many students are at the school when you were there?" Rowena asked.

"A few thousand."

They all looked surprised at that news. "Good gracious!" Helga said, putting a hand to her mouth in shock.

"Merlin's shoes!" muttered Gryffindor under his breath, causing Ravenclaw to glare at him disapprovingly.

Rowena looked at the Time Turner again before she put it down on the desk in front of her. Hermione took it back and slipped it over her neck. "I am not sure how well I will be able to help," the other witch admitted, "This looks incredibly complicated. I can transform a bat into a goblet, but fixing magical artefacts is not something I am an expert in. I would not like to risk your life on my abilities."

Hermione frowned sadly. "Can…can Slytherin help?" she asked, dreading the answer. She had been hoping to avoid him at all cost.

"He will, yes," Rowena tried to reassure her, "but it's getting late now." She looked at Godric and Helga, and at their nod continued. "I was wondering, would you like to stay here at the castle until we can fix this Time Turner for you? It might take a while, but Salazar will help. He'd be fascinated to understand how this works."

Hermione bit her lip. She wasn't sure she wanted Slytherin to know the intricate workings of the device. It was dangerous, and she didn't want that kind of knowledge in his hands. But if she was to get home she didn't think she had much choice. Rowena was extremely smart, but she had read that Slytherin in particular was good at theories, and transfiguration.

"I would like that," she said.

Rowena smiled. "I will organise a room for you while we eat. Come."

Godric smiled at her as he got up and led the three women from the room. Helga walked beside Godric and they chatted quietly. Hermione fell into step behind them, Rowena at her side. "How are you coping," the older witch asked her quietly. "It must be hard for you, being in another time. I can't imagine how much has changed, the clothes alone…" she indicating Hermione's outfit.

Hermione chuckled. "It is a bit of a shock, I can't imagine what you all must be feeling, I'm sorry to have barged in like this."

"Don't worry about it dear. We are used to strange happenings, and we don't get a lot of visitors over the summer once the students have left for the holidays. It's nice to talk to somebody who knows our world." She paused thoughtfully, "Someone who we don't have to hide from."

Hermione looked at her sadly. "I know what you mean," she said quietly, "my friends, they are like us, but my parents aren't."

Rowena looked at her in shock. "Your parents are not born to magic?"

Hermione glanced at her. "Yes, a lot of witches and wizards come from families of non-magical parents. Is it not the same for this time?"

"No, of course not," Rowena said.

"So, you don't agree?" Hermione said in surprise.

"No, I do." Rowena said, "It makes sense if we are to continue to grow and flourish as a community. We must take care of our own, including any that show the gift of magic."

"But…" Hermione prompted.

"But after what happened last year, with Salazar in particular. I know he no longer shares our views. I must admit, I am a little worried myself. But that is no excuse not to let those who have the gift of it learn. We can't let a few bad eggs ruin it for the rest of us."

Hermione frowned in confusion. She had no idea what Rowena was talking about. "What happened last year," she asked in concern.

"Salazar's wife." Rowena said as they started to descend the stairs to the next floor. "She died last year, she was born to non-magical parents."

Hermione's eye's widened in shock and horror. "Oh gosh. I'm so sorry. He must be devastated." She didn't know what to believe. Salazar Slytherin, the man responsible for the prejudice towards muggleborn's that still existed 1000 years later was married to a muggleborn. She didn't know what to think, it certainly changed the perspective she had of his character.

"Don't be," Rowena said, shocking Hermione again.

"What?" Hermione gasped in shock. "What do you mean?"

Rowena looked at her out of the corner of her eye. "She was a Dark Witch, using magic's so abhorrent I dare not speak of them. She killed herself, and I'm afraid Salazar let her do it. The power she was willing to use would have destroyed us all."

Hermione stopped in shock. "His wife was a Dark Witch? But…I thought…" she paused. "I thought he encouraged that." She said quietly.

Ahead of her Rowena paused and turned around, looking up at her from the bottom of the stairs. "What in the world gave you that idea?" she said in shock. "Salazar is strictly opposed to the Dark Arts, he finds them unspeakable. His wife on the other hand…." Rowena gave her a sad look over her shoulder, and continued on her way.

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