Potions passed without incident. The pre-Snape Potion's Master, though not the most agreeable wizard in the world, lacked the malice of Snape; or perhaps it just seemed that way since she was a Slytherin.
After Potions, she had Charms. She was slightly upset when she saw that she had already learned the day's lesson her previous year, but quickly became happy again when the Professor told the class that they would be starting something entirely different the week after; she had never heard of the Rortimphre Charm and was eager to learn something new.
During their break, she and Elizabeth compared schedules on their way to the kitchens; Elizabeth's stomach had growled loudly in Charms, and Hermione wasn't feeling her best either, so Elizabeth decided to drop by briefly, just to curb their hunger until lunch. They saw that they had all their classes together except for Transfiguration, which Hermione had after lunch and Elizabeth had opted not to take. Elizabeth was worried about Hermione, and Hermione pretended to be worried about herself. Hermione enjoyed herself thoroughly.
Hermione walked into her Transfiguration classroom and was vaguely surprised to see that the class was being taught, not by Professor McGonnagal, but by Albus Dumbledore. She remembered that Dumbledore had taught Transfiguration before becoming Headmaster, but she still thought it was strange to see him looking much the same as ever.
The class was the hardest one she'd had all day. They spent the first half of the lesson learning the theory behind the transformation, but it still took Hermione five tries to transform her desk into a pig. Once she accomplished her task (she was the second person to do so, as Tom Riddle had managed it on his first try) she smiled, remembering her first ever Transfiguration lesson where Professor McGonagall had done the exact same magic.
As she was attempting the counter – turning a pig into a desk, which required almost the same skill – a small piece of parchment landed on the pig. Startled, she picked it up and read:
Miss Levvens, please stay after class. I believe we have matters to discuss that would be unwise to mention in the open.
She was a bit distracted throughout the rest of the lesson – for her, no mean feat - and impatient for it to end. Finally, what seemed like hours later, it did.
Hermione stayed nervously in her seat after the rest of the class was dismissed. She busied herself, pretending to drop her parchment several times before fumbling clumsily with her bag. She had a vague idea of why she had been asked to remain after class, and she didn't want anyone else staying to wait for her and overhearing the conversation; she felt lucky that Elizabeth had decided against taking NEWT level Transfiguration.
As she stumbled with the clasp on her bag for what seemed to be the third time, she heard the door close with a soft click. She looked up and, seeing that Professor Dumbledore had closed the door after everyone else had left, she quickly closed her bag and straightened up, glad that they were finally alone and able to speak freely.
"You wanted to speak with me?" she asked politely, standing up.
"Yes, Miss Gra – er – Miss Levvens." Hermione was slightly surprised that he knew her real name; Headmaster Dumbledore had told her it was important that no one know it. He saw the look on her face and explained. "Don't worry, the past is still safe. I have arranged for a little trip into my past, so I might have a brief discussion with you." Hermione nodded. It was 1997-Dumbledore.
"Am I doing well, Professor?" she asked, anxious to know whether or not her effort was working.
"I'm afraid we won't know that until you return. It's one of the many technicalities of time travel, I'm afraid. Which is why it's important that you do absolutely everything in your power to alter history; I won't be able to tell you whether you've done it or not until fixing it isn't an option. I came to see how you're managing. Not badly, I hope."
"Oh no, Headmaster, sir. I'm managing as well as one could expect, I suppose. I'm afraid I'm not making much progress, though. I can't think of how I could possibly make a difference. Any suggestions?" she asked without much hope.
"Now Miss Granger, you may not know that this is solely your responsibility, but it is. When you promised Mr. Potter that you would make sure everything turned out right, you accepted a Magical Contract, unbeknownst to the both of you. This prevents me from giving you any specific instructions." He smiled mischievously. "A bit of general advice, however, cannot be stopped.
"It could be said that loneliness does strange things to people, whether they realize it or not. One could also surmise that, given slight changes in what they experienced, especially during the most vital years of discovering who they are, people would turn out entirely differently.
"Alas, it's time for me to leave. Let my younger self know if you need me – he can get a hold of me. Good luck, Miss Granger." He turned around without waiting for her response and walked through a door behind his desk. Hermione stood in the now-empty room for almost a minute, thinking about what Dumbledore had said until her bag flashed red, reminding her that she was supposed to be in her next class. She ran out the door and to her Arithmancy classroom, only a few minutes late.
After completing several hours worth of homework, Hermione collapsed onto her bed, exhausted. It had been difficult – near impossible, really – for her to pay attention during her final classes of the day with Dumbledore's halfway cryptic advice running non-stop through her mind. It was obvious that she was expected to help Tom realize that evil wasn't the only path, and that she was supposed to somehow change the rest of the year for him. It was also obvious that Dumbledore believed Tom Riddle to be lonely. So…was she supposed to try to make friends? That wouldn't be easy, with Elizabeth warning against the association (not to mention her own moral qualms over making friends with someone who had, directly or indirectly, caused the death of practically everyone she knew). The moral qualms, she decided, she could get over; anything for the cause, after all. Elizabeth, though, would likely be a bit harder to deal with, as she didn't feel like alienating the only friend she had. At least, she thought, getting Tom's cooperation shouldn't be too hard, if his behaviour the previous night was anything to go by.
Her head was pounding. She didn't want to go to sleep until she had decided on a course of action, but she couldn't even think straight. Too much was happening too quickly, and it hadn't even all quite sunk in yet. She decided, after several long minutes of consideration, to go to sleep and give herself a few days to adjust if need be; after all, she had until June to make up her mind, as opposed as she was to the idea of spending months and months in the past. She tried to clear her mind as best as she could, breathing slowly and counting backwards, until she finally managed to drift off.
"Hello Hermione," said a voice from somewhere in the distance. "It's been a while. Too long, I think."
"Who's there?" she asked, afraid and confused, not seeing anyone.
"Oh, come on. Surely you can't have forgotten me that quickly!" She saw a faint shimmer in the air in front of her. It grew steadily more distinct, and within moments it was visibly the outline of a person. A few seconds later, she knew who it was.
"Harry? Is it really you?" He nodded. "I – I can't believe it! I thought I'd never see you again!"
"I know, Hermione. I wanted to talk to you, but they wouldn't let me. They told me it was 'against the rules'." He laughed; the thought of rules actually stopping him was a fairly new concept to both of them, and obviously one that wasn't about to become more practical.
Hermione wanted to ask him who 'they' were, but realized he wouldn't be able to tell her. "If it's against the rules, how are you –"
"You're breaking the rules, too, Hermione. They decided you needed some help, so they let me have a talk with you – just this once, though. Pretty soon you'll wake up, and that'll be it. So we should try and hurry. Tell me, what do you need?"
"I don't know what to do!" she half-wailed, before regaining her composure slightly. "I'm supposed to stop Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort, show him that he doesn't have to be evil. But I think it's too late for that! Didn't he set the basilisk on Myrtle in his fifth year? That was two years ago, Harry! I don't think he's killed anybody since – it would be too risky, now that Hagrid was already expelled – but who knows what else he's done? I'm not sure I can make a difference!"
"It's okay, Hermione, calm down. You've already made a difference by simply being here. I can't tell you what it is – you know I can't, Hermione – but I assure you that there's already a change.
"If you were a muggle psychiatrist, what would you say is Tom Riddle's major problem?" he asked. Hermione briefly wondered what on earth Harry thought he was going to accomplish with his bizarre question, then remembered that they had only as long as Elizabeth let her sleep. She thought for another moment about Harry's question.
"I suppose he has serious attachment issues stemming from his early childhood," she answered. She had read anything she could get her hands on over the summer, especially since Harry's death. She had found a few psychology books in her parents' bookshelves. Though far from being an expert, it didn't take a genius to figure out Tom's issues.
"And what do you think would help him get over that?"
"Years of intensive therapy, for one," she laughed.
"Apart from that. Something you have the ability to provide."
Damn it. She hadn't paid much attention to that part of the books, not really buying into psychobabble. She sincerely wished she had. She thought hard for a moment before giving her best guess. "Well…Dumbledore said that he's lonely, and in this setting it's probably because he wants to be. So what, am I supposed to befriend him or something, convince him that he doesn't want to be lonely anymore?" she asked, half-sarcastically. The idea was ludicrous, even if she thought she could pull it off.
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but before he had a chance to say anything, Hermione felt herself jolted awake, brought back to reality once again by the sound of Elizabeth's voice.