Hermione had a terrible moment of clarity, they had gone completely barking mad. It was the only explanation for something so foolish. To list the problems with her being the Divination professor would be like counting grains of sand. Blinking rapidly and cocking her head to the side, she contemplated which to bring up first.
"I'm not a seer." It seemed both the most idiotic and also the best thing to point out to her old professors who had gone round the bend. "Furthermore, not only am I not a qualified teacher for any subjects aside from charms or arithmancy I stopped taking that class in my third year. I can't tell one lump of tea leaves from another let alone tell someone's fortune from it!" Her voice went high as she grew more scandalized by the thought alone. Mad, they were both mad.
Smiling warmly at her, Dumbledore responded, "Why heavens, of course you aren't! If you were a seer I imagine third year would have turned out much differently." The twinkle was back as the portrait looked down on her with an expression of supreme humor and benevolence as she sputtered. "It would not be necessary. Indeed, you would simply have to enact a suitable voice and make it look as if you've had one. It rather neatly ties up the problem of you knowing things you shouldn't. A potential fly in the ointment, as it were, would be if you are not an Occlumens."
Nodding absent mindedly Hermione tried to think of any time she had actual bore witness to an instance of Seeing, let alone any idea of what type of voice one would have to invoke to look like one was delivery a prophecy. "Of course I am, Professor. It's standard training for anyone working in the Department of Mysteries. I wouldn't be up to going against someone on your skill but I can protect my mind from most." She ground out, aware that Dumbledore would know the answer to that question already. The Department of Mysteries was one of the most secretive and rigorous parts of the ministry and they protected their investments. They wouldn't let someone into the lab with dangerous and scandalous research if they couldn't make sure the individual conducting the research was of sufficient intelligence, moral quality, and ability to keep their lips sealed even in the event of an invader of the mind. While she thought their second quality was a little lacking in some of their employees they made up for it with intelligence and secrecy in spades.
"Very good, you'll of course have to brush up a bit once you are back but given you've already had training it's a splendid groundwork. Now, we'll have to come up with another identity as you were born in September of 1979, were you not?" He shifted in his seat, leaning closer as if trying to read the date of her birth from her forehead.
"Yes, I was, the nineteenth. When exactly would I be going back to?" Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a thick notepad and a pen. After Hogwarts, Hermione had refused to return to using a quill and had promptly invested in a wide collection of pens that made writing on the go infinitely easier. Deciding to ignore the issue of her employment being a spinner of fluff and stuff for such a woolly and abhorrent branch of study, she jotted down what they had discussed so far.
"I interviewed Sybill in early 1980, March the 2oth. She had contacted me a week before to inquire after the position. So, you'll just have to go back to March 6th to owl me and meet with me so that I can hire you before she contacts me. If I were to see you having a vision as well as accurately interpreting tea leaves, things like that I'm sure I would hire you on the spot. I never understood it but I always had the hardest time filling positions during my tenure." Dumbledore mused aloud.
Snorting at his bemusement, she could find many reasons why it would be hard to fill teaching positions in a school known for its curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, need to live on the premises, as well as being a known target for Voldemort. "You don't want her to speak the prophecy, or at least no one around to overhear it."
"Correct, Miss Granger. This is the catalyst. By saving the Potters, we would keep four of our fighters and have a known spy in our midst, Peter Pettigrew. Better to know where our leak is then to oust him prematurely and find ourselves with another that is unknown to us. You will give your own prophecy about four friends that will hint at some divide that will separate them with dire consequences. Should Severus overhear it and deliver it to Voldemort it will be considered proof Pettigrew is loyal to him and succeeding at his task. For Dumbledore, it will signal something is going wrong." Minerva interjected, refilling both their teacups as she did so.
"Thank you." Smiling as she retrieved her cup from the Headmistress, Hermione continued, "What about Snape then? He wouldn't have the incentive to change sides and we would certainly need his information with the timeline changing to keep us abreast of what's going on."
"A very valid concern. You, my dear, will have to convince him to change sides." Choking on her tea Hermione pounded her fist into her chest to try and clear her airway.
"Me? How in the ruddy hell am I supposed to do that? Sorry Minerva, but honestly how in the world am I supposed to convince Severus Snape that he needs to give up on his ideals and come spy for a man he hates? No offence Albus but I saw the memories he gave Harry and while I'm sure you two grew together a bit he can't have been your greatest fan fresh out of school. Not to mention, as I recall, he doesn't put stoke in divination and me foretelling gloom and doom in a crazed voice wouldn't get him to jump ship." Feeling the burn of tea going down the wrong pipe but finally able to breathe properly, she elected to set the tea down while giving it a baleful look for its part in all this.
"Hermione, I have the utmost confidence in you to convince Severus of the error of his ways. While he was an exceedingly stubborn man he was always logical and well-reasoned. You'll have to appeal to his logic and with a vision or two to stir the pot it should be enough to sway him. If you were to foretell the death of Lily should he not change his ways it should start him along the right path." Glancing regretfully at the empty portrait next to him, Dumbledore wondered what the dark haired man would think of their plotting. Severus Snape had never accepted his portrait in the Headmistress' office, instead he had bounded out of his frame the minute the artist had finished. Occasionally, when Dumbledore took the occasion to visit the other paintings at Hogwarts, he would see a flash of black before it was gone. Severus was no more forgiving of him in the afterlife than he had been when living.
Minerva drew the eyes of the other occupants in the room by reaching once more into her desk to collect a large stack of ledgers. "It goes without saying that these must never fall into anyone else's hands. They are Severus' records of where he was and what happened any given day during the first war. His meticulous nature will be our saving grace this time around." She pushed the stack towards Hermione.
Giving her old head of house a doubtful glance she accepted the ledgers, pulling the top into her lap. Opening it up, she noted the neat handwriting, cramped between lines and dates with sparse information.
"January 1st, 1980 Our Lord has called a meeting at the Malfoy estate to celebrate a recent success. It seems entertainment will be provided as Crabbe and Goyle have made the necessary arrangements to secure company for the night for the gathering. My Lord has said he has need of me to brew a potion of some difficulty, will find out more details tonight."
Flipping until she could see the date of March 6th squatting halfway down the page she read on.
"March 6th, 1980 Our Lord has blessedly given his Inner Circle the day off, as it were. After the revel last night I find myself appreciating the lull. While I was aware blood traitors were a scourge it seemed heavy handed to eradicate the children as well. Now, to bed."
While the subject matter sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine she couldn't help but be heartened by his doubt. Severus Snape had never been a cold-blooded murderer, at least when no one had provoked his rage and even then the idea of him purposefully killing someone without the means to fight back didn't fit what she knew of him. Voldemort would have been pushing his followers to more violent extremes at the time, as he was ascending to the height of his power in the first war, it would make sense for Snape to be having misgivings. No doubt, Lily's untimely death and realization of Voldemort's lie had pushed him over the edge onto the other side but the board had been set long before. Severus Snape could be swayed. Feeling slightly more optimistic about her chances of convincing the rudest man she had ever met to hear her out Hermione looked back to Minerva.
"Hermione, we are placing a great burden upon you but if there has been one thing you have always done it has been exceeding expectations." Smiling fondly at her protégé, Minerva marched on, "We can give you two weeks to prepare, if you agree to take on this mission. You will need to study Severous' journals, newspaper clippings, Order reports, note happenings both human and worldly that you could draw upon to establish your credibility as a Seer, in addition to perfecting your cover."
Hermione needed little time to think over her answer, "I'll do it. Voldemort has come back. What has to be done has to be done. Even if it means become the next Sybill Trelawney. Which, I'll need access to her prophecy regarding Harry so I can get the feel for what a trance looks and sounds like. I'll take a leave of absence from my job tonight, I've got enough days off piled up I could take a month off without notice. What's the worst they can do, fire me?" She joked, flexing her hands on her knees as if eager to fill them with papers and pens, anything to flesh out the plan that left her feeling exposed and nervous at the very idea of trying to fool the best spy of all time.
"As for your cover," Dumbledore chimed in, "I believe I have thought of something suitable for our purposes. What do you know of India, Miss Granger?"
"It has the largest population of any country, hosts a wide variety of languages and religion, as well as being known for its distinguished and old community of witches and wizards. While blood purity is an issue, the more pressing concern is that of the caste the witch or wizard descends from though much like their muggle counter parts the traditional conception of the caste system has officially fallen by the wayside." She mused aloud, searching her mind for other relevant facts.
"Quite right, a witch coming from India would be in a unique position to not have her references readily available as well as being forgiven should she not know all the realities of everyday life in 1980 in Europe. To this effect, with some minor alterations to your appearance you could be reasonably believed to be of mixed decent."
"I'll work a study of Indian culture into my homework." Giving the Headmaster a small smile she could feel the certainty building in her. While the night had thrown her for a loop initially and the notion of discovering what else Voldemort had done to himself left her with a sickness deep in her stomach she was beginning to feel the determination that had gotten her through the last war rise up. A single-mindedness that left no room for failure. They would fight and they would win.
"I'll just let Poppy know to expect you in ten days' time, then!" Dumbledore rose, ready to walk out of the portrait before Hermione's befuddled shouting for him to wait stopped him.
"Well, surely you know that glamours won't work, not around the people you'll be for such long periods of time. No, something a bit more permanent is in order. Poppy can perform the necessary medical procedures but you would be wise to invest in black hair dye as well, in a large quantity. Wouldn't want to run out! Good day, Miss Granger." Without further adieu he walked out of his portrait leaving Minerva to explain to a rather shocked Hermione that she couldn't really have expected to keep her appearance, did she?
"Well, yes, as a matter of fact I did! Dying my hair is one thing but a medical procedure? Minerva, honestly! I'm just a baby in 1980, surely some glamours or dye would do." Feeling like she was being a tad irrational at her vehemence because she really should have expected something similar Hermione crossed her legs and leaned back into her chair, showing her stubborn refusing to a medical procedure.
"Come now, surely you know that you will be in the past for the rest of your life and you can't very well expect all of the teachers not to notice when eleven years after you start teaching there is a smaller version of you roaming the halls." The Headmistress tutted, eyeing her former pupil as she had many times after she had gotten into some form of mischief.
It was one thing to agree to travel to the past, destroy the horcruxes, and then figure out what else Voldemort had done to himself, destroy him, and then live the rest of her life in the new timeline. It was another thing entirely to agree to medical procedures. At least, she had thought immediately upon hearing it. If she had really wanted to be honest with herself she could admit her fear of all things medical had come about later in life. No dentists' child got to have a procedure free childhood, even if only on teeth. However, after her torture session with Bellatrix, the idea of willingly going anywhere near where a healer was struck her temporally dumb with fear. Going into danger where spells were firing off was less frightening than that. She had, in moments when she couldn't help it, thought that she had never really dealt with her experience of torture. She had moved on, viciously used her Occlumency to clamp down on the night terrors and thoughts that had come from it. However, something about the smell of antiseptic and the brush of bandages against her flesh took her right back to the manor and Shell cottage, being wracked with pain.
It was with these thoughts in mind that she drew her mind and its paths to the forefront, clamping down on the fear and shoving it to the back. "You're right; it will need to be done." If her voice was slightly more even keeled McGonagall made no mention of it.
"Good, I will owl you with the exact time for you to see Poppy. Meanwhile, you have enough to be getting on with. I will secure you some funds to go back in time with. Though, it will be little. We can't risk the goblins finding out that there are duplicated coins floating about. I will also see to it that you have an acceptable supply of necessary potions. If there is anything else you can think of that I would need to do, please do not hesitate to ask." Rising rather stiffly Hermione was reminded that Minerva was no longer the young woman she had been, especially after taking four stunners to the chest at once and fighting in two wars.
"Would it be possible for me to floo out, Headmistress?" Hermione enquired, shrinking the ledgers from Snape and placing them into her satchel.
"Of course, I wouldn't dream of making you wade through that snow again. Especially with what you young people consider shoes these days." Casting a rather superior look down at her heels McGonagall strode over to an oaken cabinet and retrieved a small vial holding a silvery string of memory. Gathering up her cloak and accepting the small vial with its label reading "Divination Interview – 1980" she shrugged to show her thoughts on the matter of her shoes.
"I tend to agree with you but the ministry is rather particular about employees representing themselves well and they seem to think fashion the way to do it." It was no wonder Lucius Malfoy had so spectacularly embedded himself into the ministry after the first war. Anyone who reeked of opulence and splendor like that could get a red carpet rolled out that headed straight to the highest levels.
"I think you should know that I have the same fondness for tea 25 years ago that I do now, should you want the company." Minerva offered, collecting Hermione into a hug that left the younger woman to blink back tears.
"That would be marvelous. I have a feeling being without Harry and Ron will leave me with an open social calendar." Giving the older woman a soft squeeze to convey her thanks Hermione couldn't help but think that perhaps the past wouldn't be quite as lonely a place as she had believed it would be.
Stepping back from the embrace, she watched the younger witch draw a small pinch of floo powder, throw it into the fireplace, and disappear off home. Without having to turn around she knew Albus was back and, if the itch between her shoulders was accurate, staring right at her.
"A remarkable witch." It was spoken softly; as if afraid he would spook her if he was too loud.
"Yes, yes she is... Do you really think it will work, Albus? She was right to be concerned about using the cover of a divination professor, she's not a seer and sooner or later the timeline will alter enough she won't be able to make predictions that can come true with any certainty." There was something comforting about a warm fire on a cold night, Minerva thought as she voiced her doubts aloud. While they had gone over the plan in great detail, there was always that seed of doubt. What if they could defeat Voldemort again without resorting to time travel? Would Hermione be able to craft a better world or would it be far more terrible? It felt like a supreme gamble and she wondered once again, if it was indeed worth it.
"And that is why we decided it must be her. When her cover fails, she will need every ounce of cunning and intelligence she possesses to continue on and still be accepted. Her memory will serve her well, something that many others simply wouldn't be able to do. Who else could be expected to memorize so many dates and information in just a few short weeks? We can't risk sending anything written back and she is well known for her near perfect recollection of facts." Minerva could hear the shades of emotion, shaping the words but underneath it all was the fact they had asked someone to sacrifice everything they knew to change it all and try to bring about a better future.
Waving her hand dismissively at the portrait, the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry retired to bed ignoring Albus' soft call of "goodnight."
Stepping out of her fireplace she was glad to see Crookshanks make his way over to her, rubbing along her calves with the air of a lord granting someone below him a favor as he turned his squashed face up towards her and mewled petulantly.
"I know, I'm late with your meal but we've talked about this and you could afford to lose some weight." The ginger cat chose then to flip his tail in the air and saunter away, leaving her with a view she could have done without. Muttering about cats and their unreasonable nature she set down her cloak and bag while kicking off her shoes in the direction of the door. With a flick of her wand, her radio came to life. While she had always been something of a loner, she was fond of people being around. In the absence of house guests, the radio did nicely to make her home feel more inviting and alive.
Ambling to the kitchen she set about giving Crookshanks his evening meal, barely avoiding giving him a little extra. While it was true that he needed to lose weight, he always seemed so happy when she gave him a bit more that she often related and spooned in the extra food. If it meant a warm, purring ball of fluff in her lap as she did work she was more than happy to do it.
Leaning against the counter while watching Crookshanks dig into his meal and eating as if he hadn't been fed for weeks instead of hours Hermione decided to take the bandy-legged animal with her. If she was going to go to a time with absolutely no friends she was at least going to have a pet who knew her. It would also to help establish her as someone who was new and moving in to the area, she thought with triumph. Pushing off the counter to fetch a glass of wine she went through the many things she would need to do before she left. First, to send a letter to her boss, Mr. Donovan, to inform him of a personal emergency that would take her two weeks to sort out.
Plucking the cork from the bottle and pouring herself a generous amount, she sat down to do just that. Rolling the vague and short letter into a suitable size for her owl to grab hold off, she sent it off. Now, for the real work of reading the ledgers. What had possessed Snape to leave a detailed accounting of what happened in the first war was puzzling. The man was known for his secrecy and as a spy surely having written proof of his actions could be a quick way to meet a messy end. Perhaps, when she went back, she would ask him. For now, she had to begin the grim business of reading his descent into the madness of the Death Eaters as well as the things he had done.
Taking the first ledger from the bag and enlarging it back to its normal size Hermione took a deep breath and began.
Updated Sep. 30, 2013. Thank you to all who pointed out my spelling errors, I appreciate it! If you see anymore let me know and I'll go back and fix it up!