October 31, 1981 The war is over but Dumbledore believes the Dark Lord will come back. He has asked me to take up teaching, to keep a vigil in case I ever need to resume my place with the Dark Lord and spy for the Order again. I can not say with any certainty which prospect is more horrifying. Teaching dunderheaded children how not to blow themselves up or the Dark Lord coming back. If the children do not kill me before it happens I will be surprised. It will be good to be around innocence again. It seems fitting I would come back to the place that has been more of a home to me than Spinner's End ever was. I feel like this could be beneficial, while I am not teaching classes I will have time to research. To brew for pleasure again. Unlike these years of darkness. Serving two masters and being a part of a war has left me oddly reflective. I do not think I could have done it without this journal. A constant companion in my times of turmoil. Reflecting back on it now, it seems the most foolhardy thing I have ever done. Putting all my thoughts down can only serve as a risk. Something I learned well when the Marauders got a hold of my potion textbook and used its contents against me. And yet, I have permitted myself this one weakness. But, no longer. This will be my last entry. My last chance to give shape to these thoughts in my head. Goodbye, friend.
Closing the last ledger, she couldn't help but give the cover a soft pat. Through reading Snape's journals, she had learned much. It was as if he were writing to her, as if he had called out for someone to understand him. To be in his corner with no judgment, to simply listen, and know what he had done. She agreed with him though, writing down everything as well as his thoughts was so fool-hardy she had scarce believed he would do it at first. And now, she had her answer. The Severus Snape she knew would never consider giving written evidence. The Severus Snape that was a scant 20 years old at the time would crave some outlet. His falling out with Lily and disillusionment with the Death Eaters had left him bereft of friends. The Order hardly tolerated him in the second war, surely the first war had been worse as their belief he had changed sides would be fresh and questionable, especially since he had asked Dumbledore not to tell anyone why he did so. It seemed Severus Snape had a softer side in his youth, one she would have to exploit mercilessly to get him to change sides.
Rubbing circles into her temples, she contemplated what mumbo-jumbo she would have to spew to convince Snape that his Death Eater friends were but wolves in sheep's clothing and he was the sheep. It would have to wait until she figured out what her first prophecy would be. It needed to implicate Peter while also giving something for Snape to report back to Voldemort who wouldn't expect the jig was up with his pet Marauder.
Grabbing a pen and a notepad, she began. Jotting down non-sense was harder than she had originally supposed it to be; perhaps Trelawney should get a raise. Rolling her eyes at her own antics, she began to write.
A foundation shaken twixt four friends… Scratching out the line after reading it over as it seemed more like an Elizabethan play than a prophecy, she started again. Wolf, stag, dog, and rat…. The tricksters must be made to understand. Darkness grows to settle score without count and without recognition…. The neglected one shall carve flesh and tear apart family if trusted with The Secret. To the snake the rat will go, back and forth between house and field the rat must travel… to feed the snake sweet things. The snake is watching.
Finishing with a flourish, she looked over it again. While it was crude, it would certainly do the job, at least as far as she was concerned. It would entice Voldemort with the idea there was a secret while also alerting Dumbledore that Peter was a rat in more than one way. By including that he would be going from house to field she would let them know he had to continue to be involved in the Order. Turning to her next prophetic problem, she took out a new piece of paper and began.
A fair flower has left her protector's garden. Scratching it out for being too trite, she began again. The half-blood prince in blood shall end… if the flower perishes so too shall he. Those of cloak and dagger will trample under foot all that the Prince cares for. His kingdom in ruin if unheard goes the warning. Unite with the tricksters lest he himself be tricked… Gazing thoughtfully at what she had written, she empathetically crossed out "his kingdom in ruin". A spy must he be. Two masters shall preside over him, but for his trials the maiden shall be his. Wincing at her subterfuge, she left that he would get Lily for his troubles. It was the one undercurrent that had gone throughout his life, his devotion to Lily and asking him to spy without offering him her love would get her nowhere. She could only hope it worked out for the best.
Looking over her work, she deemed it acceptable. Taking out a new piece of paper she wrote out the finalized version. The half-blood prince in blood shall end… if the flower perishes so too shall he. Those of cloak and dagger will trample under foot all that the Prince cares for if unheard goes the warning. Unite with the tricksters lest he himself be tricked… A spy must he be… Two masters shall preside over him, but for his trials the maiden shall be his. Feeling the press of the hour upon her, she tucked the 'prophecies' in her bag.
It was the day to meet Madame Pomfrey which left her a scarce three days before she went back. She had packed her bag to the brim with anything and everything she could think of needing. She had sent away for clothing in styles from the early 1980s. She had settled for a nice mix between Indian clothing and British muggle clothing she was pleased with the results. The shirts were loose fitting and with the lightweight material even going back in the summer would allow her to wear long sleeves. The mudblood scar that marred her forearm had been craved with a cursed blade, making it impossible to cover it up by magical means. So, long sleeved shirts would have to be worn at all times or her cover would be blown to shreds.
She had taken Dumbledore's advice and purchased an unholy amount of deeply dark brown hair dye. Something that had the company respond to her order asking if she had meant to get the amount she did. The immense amount of owls it had taken to deliver the crates had cleaned her out of every owl treat in her house. Ordering food for Crookshanks had been quite the ordeal as well, the familiar had taken it upon himself to check the quality of the goods by chewing through some of the treat bags. She had found him after his fifth bag. The way he had waddled out of the room in shame had softened her ire marginally but she had cut back on his treats for days which left him in a nasty mood.
Her satchel had become her beaded purse, something that made her appreciate all the charms she had learned to further build on what she had done in the war. Her bag had become the equivalent of carrying her house about town with her. Her library had been carefully packed away inside, a feat in and of itself. The note that McGonagall had sent had been sparse but telling. She was to have everything she needed for the journey with her when she reported to Madame Pomfrey. Getting Crookshanks in his cat carrier took the better part of an hour to accomplish, he had aged but whenever the carrier was in sight he seemed to have the energy and temperament of a feral alley cat.
"This is it, Crooks. We're going back to Hogwarts, lots of mice for you to catch." A low rumble came from the crate. Her familiar was not so keen to look on the bright side of things, it seemed. Giving her flat one last look, she gathered up her satchel and carrier, threw the floo powder in the fireplace, and reappeared in the Headmistress' office at promptly three o'clock.
"Perfectly punctual." Minerva stepped forward, smiling at the younger woman. "Here, let me get that for you." Reaching out to pluck the cat carrier from her arms, the Headmistress narrowed her eyes at the hissing half-Kneazle.
"He really hates the carrier, always has." Hermione offered, digging through her bag for the prophecies she had written. "As requested, the two you asked to see before I went."
"Just set them on my desk. I'm under strict orders to get you to the infirmary as soon as possible. Poppy was insistent the more time you have to recover the better off you'll be." If Minerva noticed Hermione's gulp of fear she made no comment, instead releasing the hissing cat and placing the empty carrier on her desk as well.
"Well, best to get on with it, I suppose." Giving the older woman a brave smile, she glanced to see if Dumbledore was in his portrait.
Seeing her gaze Minerva answered for his absence, "The old codger left a few minutes ago. He seems to be of the opinion you'll blast him straight off the wall."
"What? I would never!" Intrigued by the portrait's unusual behavior, she resolved to ask him about it when she saw him next.
"Be that as it may, we really must get going." Gesturing to the door, the Headmistress followed her down the stairs and walked next to her along the empty corridors. They got to the infirmary much sooner than Hermione would have preferred. Her thoughts were running away from her, speculating what exactly would be done to her if she needed as much time to recover as possible.
"Welcome back, Ms. Granger." Madame Pomfrey greeted her, her voice even and warm soothing some of Hermione's frazzled nerves.
"It's good to see you, Madame Pomfrey. Though I wish it was under better circumstances." The nurse nodded in acknowledgement. The woman had never been one for idle words Hermione recalled from her many extended visits to the hospital wing.
"Well, I will leave you to get underway but I will be back to check on you as well as to update you on preparations." Giving Hermione a small hug, Minerva turned and swept away.
"We will get started immediately, what Albus was thinking giving you so short a time to recover is beyond me, mustn't waste a moment." Guiding the younger woman to a curtained off bed, she instructed her to change into the hospital gown that had been left out.
"Madame Pomfrey, what exactly will we be doing to my appearance?" she inquired, feeling silly that she was so out of the loop.
"He didn't tell you that?" Emerging from behind the curtain, she was rewarded with the sight of very pursed lips. "Albus will be hearing from me. Now, as to what we'll be changing. Do you recall when your teeth were enlarged?" Seeing her nod of ascent, she continued on, "Well, we will be doing something similar to your facial structure. You're cheekbones will be more prominent and your nose won't turn up at the end, it'll be more of a straight shot. Aside from that, we'll be making your hair thicker."
Resisting the urge to grab at her face in an attempt to memorize every detail she could, she took a calming breathe instead, "Madame Pomfrey, why do people use polyjuice potion if these procedures are available?"
"Polyjuice potion allows the person to morph their physicality in ways the normal body can't sustain. A petite female can become a large male, something that strains the internal organs as it tries to adjust to the different metabolic requirements. While occasional use does not have adverse effects, it was never designed for long term use. Any attempt to make the body deviate from its norm is extremely dangerous. What we are doing is pushing at the border of that limit. We are permanently changing your body but to the point it won't throw you into shock. We could not make you more than an inch or two taller because your body simply wouldn't have the store of energy to make your bones strong enough. Our alterations will put you out of commission for the next few days but you aren't in danger of having a broken nose if someone were to flick it."
Making a small noise of understanding, Hermione quickly sat on the bed at the nurse's direction and accepted the potions offered to her.
"It's dreamless sleep, after you take that you need to down the second potion quickly." In Hermione's experience it was always good to take potions quickly; they often tasted foul and had a texture that left much to be desired.
Gagging at the taste of the second potion, she didn't have long to contemplate how something could taste like chalk and bog mud before she was asleep.
Blearily opening her eyes, Hermione felt like she had been hit in the head with a sledgehammer. Trying to move her face at all left her with the conclusion she had been hit with two, at a minimum. Her head felt like it was throbbing in time with her heartbeat and her scalp felt like every hair had been plucked out one by one. Looking around she took in the darkness of the room, by her guess it would be well into the wee hours of the morning.
As if drawn to her waking thoughts, Madame Pomfrey pushed past the privacy curtains with a container and spoon in hand. "This is for the pain. After you get this down I can give you some more dreamless sleep." The nurse seemed unbothered that her patient said nothing in response. Dolling out two large spoonful's that slid down Hermione's throat like molasses she immediately began pouring the dreamless sleep into her mouth in intervals. The nurse took the time to massage her throat to help the potion along. Hermione's last thought before she slipped back into sleep was that Dumbledore was lucky he already had a head start in running from her.
The next time she woke up, light was streaming in. Moving her face experimentally, she was startled when a shooting pain seemed to race from her jaw, to her toes, and back again.
"Poppy has told me it would be best for you not to move much." Minerva offered, seemingly from nowhere. Turning her head slightly to the left, she could see the Headmistress perched on the bedside chair.
"I've come to discuss your task. I'm afraid it will make for something of a boring conversation but I imagine it will at least offer you something of a diversion. I have looked over your prophecies and see only one thing I would like to change. You wrote that 'the maiden will be his' but I would like to ask that it would be 'love will be his'. Severus Snape was lied to many, many times in life and I would like to hope that in the new course of things that he could have a bit more honesty."
The fact that she would be lying to him about her history, nationality, and divination abilities seemed to put the balance at even more lies being told to him. But, seeing that Minerva looked shamefaced stopped her from quirking her eyebrows in polite rebuttal.
"I know he loved Lily, more than anything. But, I hope in time he will realize that she can not and will not return his affections that way. I want him to look for love elsewhere. I know that a prophecy can hardly be expected to change his heart, but perhaps it could help. I understand if you decide to keep the original version, his love for Lily would be easy to manipulate. Just consider this for me, please. I will come back tomorrow to speak with you more. Poppy assures me you will be up to having some conversation then." The older woman gave her hand a gentle squeeze before leaving.
Poppy swept in directly after, McGonagall having informed her that her patient was very much awake and in pain. After another round of a pain potion and dreamless sleep, she was out.
"Here's a bowl of broth. I expect it to be gone by the time I return." Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, Hermione roused to the sound of Madame Pomfrey's crisp command. Feeling herself hoisted up into a sitting position she tried to take in her surroundings.
Light was again pouring in to the hospital wing as a tray was placed over her lap and a heavenly smelling broth sat on top. "Thank you." Even saying a few words felt miserable. Taking a tentative sip of the liquid her body waged war against itself. Her stomach demanded she slurp the concoction down as fast as possible and her jaw refused to open more than an inch without effort. Feeling rather pathetic, she continued to eat. Contemplating all the ways to destroy a portrait served to cheer her up though.
She finished the both just in time as the nurse swept back the curtains, flicked her wand to vanish the bowl and tray, and placed proper pajamas on the bed. "Now that you're not in as much pain you've graduated to something more substantial. The Headmistress and Dumbledore should be here in 15 minutes. I don't know how in the world you expect to be going tomorrow but I don't advise it." Turning quickly on her heel, the woman closed the curtain, and walked away.
Patting a hand on her head she winced at the sorry state it was in before she realized it felt completely different. Taking a lock between her fingers and bringing it before her she could see her ringlets were no more. In their place were heavy waves and thick strands. Taking stock of her hair, she was pleased to note it hadn't fallen out in patches as she'd imagined when Poppy had told her what was to be done. Instead, she had a full head of very mussed hair.
Continuing her perusal, she felt along the sides of her face, feeling more of a dip between her jaw and cheekbone. Running her fingers up and down the edge of her nose she could feel that Madame Pomfrey had been true to her word. There was no slight upturn at the end. Instead, it followed in a straight line. It felt slightly larger around the fullest part of her nose as well. Hermione was not by nature a vein person but she had grown to like how she looked, she didn't think of herself as beautiful but she had been content having no complaints. Now, she would have a new face with a new life to match.
Rousing herself enough to change took some effort. It was well worth it though after she cast a cleaning charm on herself combined with the feeling of fresh clothes. Her only remaining wish was a toothbrush piled high with toothpaste. Attempting to get her new hair in some semblance of order she was frustrated to find it slid out of her hair band. Resolving to learn how to tame the new beast on her head she opened the curtains to her bed to show she was ready for visitors.
Settling back on to the bed she was soon greeted by the portrait of a very contrite looking Dumbledore, "You look lovely, it really suits you." The portrait seated himself on a bench in a field of poppies directly across from her bed.
"Thank you, professor. The next time you wish someone to have their appearance altered I should hope you'll tell them what exactly will be done and how they can expect to feel afterwords." Using the tone of voice that made Harry and Ron collectively seek cover seemed to get her point across. The former Headmaster coughed into his hand and shifted uncomfortably.
"Ah, yes. I will endeavor to keep that in mind. Minerva! How good it is to see you!" The abrupt change in conversation was not lost on Hermione. Knowing that her lectures would be wasted on a painting, she settled for knowing she could give a younger Albus a lesson in communicating important information and what happened when one neglected key details.
"I see you're still intact Albus, Hermione must not be feeling well." Sharing a smile with the other woman in the room, McGonagall took her place next to Hermione's bed. "Will you be well enough to leave tomorrow, Hermione?"
"Yes, I believe so. I'll have to lie low for a few days but that shouldn't be a problem. I have to contact Albus for the position, secure a room in the Hog's Head, and contact Snape but that's over the course of a week." She confirmed as she messaged her aching jaw.
"That is very good to hear, you will depart in the morning. No sense in not getting the ball rolling. Have you given her the money, Minerva?" The Headmistress withdrew a pouch that clinked as Hermione accepted it. "It goes without saying the less you spend the better off you will be. Starting out your journey with a financial review would undoubtedly lead to some delicate questions being asked." Chuckling at his own joke, Dumbledore regarded the young woman. Even though her appearance had changed, her striking eyes still showed through. It would be enough to keep anyone from suspecting she and the young Hermione Granger were the same person but not such a startling change that Hermione wouldn't recognize herself.
"Minerva was kind enough to read your prophecies to me and I must say I think they will work perfectly. I would stress delivering the first to me roughly twenty minutes into the interview, I was in a bind for time and I won't give you my full attention until you deliver the prophecy but it must come about organically. As for Severus, I would suggest saying you had visions that brought you to him. He will try to take his leave of you as quickly as possible so you should do so after only a minute or two. Hopefully, he'll be persuaded enough to hear you out. If he doesn't, you will have to continue to 'bump' into him. With what you know from the ledgers, you will have a better idea than anyone where he will be on any given day. Does this sound agreeable to you?" The painting asked.
Nodding her head, Hermione hoped they would accept it instead of making her talk more. While she was feeling much better than the day before even the short amount she had already said had left her feeling drained and achy.
"Very good, Miss Granger. As for the Horcruxes, you will have to eliminate them. You know where they were hidden and Voldemort will have made only five at the time. Before you leave, you will be given the sword of Gryffindor. This will help to keep you from needing to raise suspicion by acquiring basilisk venom or finding other means to destroy them. The ring was under the floorboards in the Gaunt shack. Speaking from experience, do not hesitate in destroying it. I would also encourage following Harry's example in finding a place to dispose of the Hallow." Nodding her head, she gave a comforting smile to the portrait who slouched in his chair as he recounted the advice he wished he had followed.
"You will have to throw Dumbledore off his suspicion that Horcruxes are the cause of Voldemort's longevity. By delivering prophecies you should be able to point him in the right direction. You will need to become a part of the Order as well, something that was never offered to Trelawney. Ask directly. It will take some time to gain enough trust to be let in but it will start the process of your mettle being tested as a potential member." McGonagall took up the lecture without hesitation. Their friendship had continued on into the afterlife, Minerva acutely attuned to her predecessor's shifts in mood, especially when the Hallows were mentioned.
Sighing wistfully, Hermione contemplated that there never seemed to be enough time. Going back to figure out what Voldemort had done to himself was a large task in and of itself. Adding in destroying the Horcruxes as well as being a full time teacher would leave her with little time to devote to so many important things. Squaring her shoulders as she had often done as a child when tests were fast approaching, she resolved to get it done. She would see out this mission and make for a better future. Harry would grow up with parents and her boys would have a childhood without the threat of danger following them at every turn. If that meant a little less sleep for her, it was well worth it.
"I believe we have prepared you as best we can. Do you have any questions?" Hearing Hermione's small no, she continued. "In that case, I will leave you to rest. Poppy has been very upset with me for interrupting your healing and I think if I impose on her goodwill any longer I'll find myself coming down with something nasty." I will send a house elf with your breakfast tomorrow at seven. We'll aim to have you off by nine. Goodnight, Hermione." Patting the younger woman's shoulder lightly, she got up and walked away. It was not wasted on Hermione that the Headmaster was still in his frame across from her bed.
"Miss Granger, I want to thank you." Holding up his hand to forestall any rebuttal the Headmaster stood. "I have asked a great deal of you over the years and I will ask much more of you, I'm sure. I hope you will put me in my place for doing so but I have one last request of you, before you go. Will you tell me what I most need to hear? It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, should do nicely. I do not want you to tell myself that the Hallows are no more. I would instead like for someone to remind me of what is and leave it up to myself to rise to the occasion. I certainly hope I can be who I always wanted to be, free. Free from the quest that destroyed me in life." She too stood, feeling the solemn nature of the moment.
"I will." Feeling no more needed to be said, she seated herself. It seemed odd to think of the Headmaster as a man that regretting things. While she had known him in life he had always seemed so certain. In death, she had learned his history. And now, it seemed the living Dumbledore would need a few good shakes to his confidence.
"Thank you, I am grateful. I will leave you in Poppy's care. Minerva is not the only one in danger of her wrath!" Giving a small tip of his head, he walked out of the painting. Feeling her bed dip, Hermione turned her attention to the large ginger cat that strode over to her. Feeling the rumble of his purr as she scratched him behind the ear helped to soothe her nerves. Gathering him up into her arms, she settled into her bed and was asleep before Madame Pomfrey could attend her patient.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes to the sound of a high pitched voice, Hermione blearily tried to spot the speaker, "Miss Hermy must be getting up now! Miss Hermy!" Feeling something pod her arm she tried to roll away but was thwarted by the half-kneazle that boxed her in.
"Hmm?" Murmuring drowsily, she sat up.
"Your breakfast is here and you be eating all of it. Madame told Binky so!" the house elf said imperiously, levitating the tray up and over the woman's legs with a look that promised swift punishment if her orders were not followed.
Taking stock of her meal, she was pleased to see all the food was soft and would be easy to get down. "Coffee?" She asked, feeling like tea simply would not be enough today.
"You gets tea." The elf answered, looking offended that her charge had thought to question what she was being served. Muttering under her breath about those that didn't understand the necessity of coffee she started in on the scrambled eggs.
The owlish eyes of Binky followed her every move making Hermione feel like a specimen on display. "This is very good." She offered, diplomatically. Not getting any response from the diminutive elf she continued on her meal as her stomach roared to life at not being fed in days. Polishing off the toast and eggs, she took long swings of her tea. Not only did she have to get up the Headmistress' office, she had to shower and check to make sure she had everything ready for her journey.
The elf looked approvingly on the empty tray before popping away. Collecting a hair dye kit, a set of clothing, and shower necessities, she made her way to the hospital wing bathroom. Reading the instructions quickly, she mixed the chemicals and slathered the concoction on her new hair. Casting a tempus charm, she settled down to wait the half hour until she could wash it out. Washing her greasy hair and brushing her teeth left her feeling more human and decidedly better smelling. Not giving her reflection more than a passing glance, plenty of time later to ponder what exactly had been done, she threw on her clothing and stumbled back into the hospital wing. Collecting her satchel she placed the bag of money inside and scooped up her cat.
"Miss Granger, I hope you did not think you could get away without my clearance." The medi-witch called out from her office, sounding more like she was talking to a child than a twenty six year old woman. Shuffling towards the office, Hermione cursed her luck.
"Of course not Madame Pomfrey." The nurse emerged and gestured for her charge to sit. Waving her wand while making small sounds of approval the nurse cast a critical eye on the young woman. It seemed she was healing well enough though she would have preferred to keep her under observation for another few days she knew when she was beat.
"You will keep your talking to a minimum for the next week. Should you have any sharp or stinging pain you should consult a medical professional straightaway. No more dreamless sleep potion, you're past the critical stage. I hope the next time around you won't be as frequent a visitor to the hospital wing." Seeing the nurse smile at her in jest gave Hermione a swell of fondness for the woman that had patched her up so often in her school days. Catching the surprised nurse in a one armed hug, her other holding firmly onto Crookshanks, Hermione tried to convey her gratitude.
"Thank you so much for everything Madame Pomfrey. I'll do my best to stay out of trouble." Letting the nurse go, Hermione readjusted Crookshanks who had cottoned on to the fact he was most likely going in the crate and was struggling to get out of her hold like his life depended on it. Making her way to the Headmistress' office with a cat that was actively trying to flee proved to be a challenge. After he had managed to kick her bag off her shoulder she had regulated him to being held in a tight embrace that had him mewling piteously.
Opening the door to the office, Hermione was pleased to see she had made it just one time even with her familiar doing his best to derail her. "I see your cat is as happy as ever for his upcoming journey." Minerva chuckled seeing Crookshanks' head swivel to try and find a way out.
"Yes, he's a handful, could you open the crate?" Maneuvering the cat into the cat carrier took some time as he got his claws into the plastic and refused to be unhooked.
"Goodness, you would think he was going to his death!" Minerva exclaimed, rubbing where a thin red line could be seen from when Crookshanks had seized upon her hand to try and pry himself out.
"He acts like it's the worst thing in the world but as soon as he's in it he's perfectly fine." Hermione grumbled, giving her pet a disgruntled look.
"Well, now that that is done, here is the sword." McGonagall gave her the blade that was wrapped in many layers of a thick fabric. Accepting the sword, Hermione placed it into her bag reverently.
"It seems you are ready for your journey, Miss Granger." Dumbledore piped up, giving the witch an appraising eye. "Your new hair color suits you."
"Why thank you, Headmaster." She smiled politely. She personally thought it was a mess. It had been her first time doing anything of the sort and she had missed spots as well as getting it on her neck and ears. As soon as she settled into her room at the Hogs Head she would have to re-do it in an attempt to salvage it.
"You have everything you need?" Minerva checked, holding the prophecies out for the younger woman to grab.
"Yes, everything that I could think of and then some." She confirmed, placing the sheets of paper into her bag as well. "I want to thank you both for everything you've done for me. I will do my best to complete this and see that we all have a brighter future." Giving the two a watery smile, Hermione launched herself into a last hug with the woman who had helped her along for so many years.
"I am, and always will be, very proud of you Hermione." Minerva returned with a tearful look of her own.
"Hermione, you are the brightest witch Hogwarts has seen along with a heart to match. I have every confidence in you." Dumbledore spoke, looking down upon the scene with pride.
"Well, I suppose I should begin." Straightening up, Hermione pulled herself together. In all reality, she would see them soon. Collecting the time turner, she set the date and time slowly as the world began to spin around her. The warm tones of the Headmistress' office blurred to an all-encompassing black.
It seemed to take minutes for the world to materialize in front of her. When it did, she moved quickly. Being in Albus Dumbledore's study at three am in the middle of a war did not lend itself to one's safety. The time turner collapsed in on itself, disintegrating to a fine sand that slipped through her fingers. Banishing the remains of her time turner from the rug, she grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped through to the Hogs Head. Only the phoenix perched on his stand witness to the time traveler's sudden appearance. Giving a small coo in remark, the phoenix settled back to sleep.
It took me longer than expected to finish this chapter but on the up and up it's two thousand words longer than the standard! :D We have finally gotten to the time travel, there was much rejoicing! I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read, comment, follow, and favorite. Ya'll make my day.
On another note, I'm still getting some questions on Hermione being Indian. She's navigating a lot of cultural change. She's going back in time twenty five years, for one. As much as we like to think that one would be able to fit in easy since it's just back in time but the same country, it wouldn't. She's not going to get a lot of the references people make. She's not going to be able to employ the slang correctly all the time. She's going to be an odd duck, no matter what she does. Being a foreigner will help her to play off these issues. When I went to India, I told a group of locals I loved coffee. They corrected me that I liked coffee. I again told them I love coffee. I was, unknowingly, saying I romantically loved coffee in Hindi (it's pretty close to romantic love though). But, they passed off my lack of knowledge as being American. Hermione is situated halfway between, having a strong British heritage while also being Indian. She can reasonably claim to be unaware of things. Also, she's a seer and they're an odd sort anyway. I really appreciate all thoughts and feedback so let me know in a few chapters if it still seems like it's not working but I would ask for a chance to show you that it can work first.
Thanks everyone!
Updated Sep. 30, 2013