Chapter 2

The sound of voices speaking softly, too softly for her to hear what was being said, somewhere nearby was the first thing that registered in her mind as the darkness and fog of unconsciousness slowly began to fade. Where was she? She couldn't remember. Why couldn't she remember?

Sadness. She remembered sadness. Harry and Ron. Where were they? Surely they were nearby. Books. She loved books. But for some reason the thought of books made her sad. Why did books make her sad? Books were things of pleasure, not sadness.

She inhaled deeply and quickly through her nose and opened her eyes as her memories finally appeared and jolted her into consciousness. The library! She had been in the library! But she was not now, she realized as she looked around. Where was she? This place didn't look familiar. Turning her head for a better look about the room, she couldn't contain her gasp at what she saw. But it couldn't be. It wasn't possible.

Sitting on the other side of the room, their eyes now trained on her, were Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall. How was that even possible? The only logical conclusion she could come up with in the split second she thought about it was that she must be dead. But that didn't explain why Professor McGonagall was there. Had she died as well? Did something happen at the castle? An attack by some remaining Death Eaters?

It was funny, she didn't feel dead. But then what did a person feel like when they died? Surely there must be some sort of book written with theories on the subject. The absolute absurdity of her thoughts didn't quite register in her still-addled brain and she couldn't help the question that fell from her lips.

"What happened?"

The three professors almost seemed surprised by the question. That was odd. They were not normally ones to really be surprised by anything. After a moment, though, Professor Dumbledore rose from the chair he was sitting in near the fireplace and walked over to where she was lying. He sat again in a chair that was next to the bed she was laying in.

"That, my dear girl, is a question we were hoping you could answer for us," he said. There was no twinkle in his eyes and it made her feel very off, somehow. This whole situation just didn't quite sit right with her. But then, she was dead, wasn't she? And at just eighteen, too. Why would that sit well with her? They had just defeated Voldemort barely a week ago and she had survived all of that, only to end up dead now? No, it didn't sit right with her at all. And they couldn't tell her why.

"What do you mean, Professor? Where am I?" His eyes seemed to somehow grow even more serious when she addressed him by his title and a little voice at the back of her mind told her that she had the wrong theory about what her current state of being was. She pushed that little voice out of her mind; there was no other possible explanation...Was there?

"Am I correct in saying that you are our Miss Hermione Granger?" he asked, his voice grave. The hairs on the back of her neck raised and she felt goosebumps break out.

Narrowing her eyes at the man sitting next to her, she said, "Oh course I'm Hermione Granger. You've all known me since I was eleven and have watched me grow up over the past seven years. Why would you think me to be anyone other than Hermione Granger?"

She heard her former Head of House murmur an "Oh, dear," but she could no longer see the two professors that were sitting on the other side of the room, her view of them blocked by the former Headmaster. Professor Dumbledore's serious eyes peered at her for a moment before he finally responded.

"Therein lies the problem, my dear. We know our Hermione Granger to be eleven-years-old and currently safely ensconced in the warmth and safety of Gryffindor Tower."

His words settled in the air and her whole body tensed as her mind contemplated the reality of what he was saying. There was another Hermione Granger here, an eleven-year-old Hermione Granger. What did this mean? What did this mean?

She studied the man's face for a few moments as her mind spun round and round trying to comprehend what was going on, but not daring to fully accept the only explanation her mind could now come up with. Indeed, the man before her looked a bit younger than she remembered, but then it had been a year since he had died and, really, who was to say how one would look in the after-life. Did a person remain looking exactly as they had when they died?

She licked her lips, although it was useless as her mouth had suddenly gone dry, before she asked her next question. "Professor, what is the date today?"

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes full of deep understanding of what must be going through her mind. She knew that whatever the answer to her question was, she wasn't going to like it. It would merely be a confirmation of what she already knew to be true. She steeled herself, part of her hoping that for once she was wrong about the conclusion her keen mind had led her to. Oh please, oh please, let me be wrong.

"Today is September 30, 1991."

With those few words, as expected as they were, everything came crashing down and her whirling mind came to a sudden stop, unwilling and unable to accept all of the implications of that news. There was a stillness in the room, the other three occupants seemingly as frozen as she was, or maybe that was just in her mind. It was quiet, so very quiet, only the fire blazing in the fireplace dared to make a sound. She knew the headmaster was still looking at her, waiting for her to respond, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything. The past year had been too much, far too much, and maybe she had just finally reached her breaking point.

The silent stillness stretched on, though Hermione wasn't sure for just how long. It was only broken when the fireplace flared to life and Madam Pomfrey stepped out, brushing off her robes and announcing, "I've finally gotten that woman calmed down and settled in for the night. She'll be ready to open the library again in the morning, don't you worry, Albus. Now, how is our surprise visitor doing?" The Mediwitch finally looked up from her robes and her gaze immediately landed on Hermione. Obviously not sensing the atmosphere of the room she had just walked into, or perhaps just ignoring it, she began to walk over to Hermione's bed as she said, "Ah, good, you're awake."

The mediwitch pulled out her wand upon arriving at Hermione's side and said, "Now, Miss Granger, I just need to run a few tests and then I can leave you to your discussion." And just like that she began casting diagnostic charms. Her sudden appearance was followed by an equally sudden retreat upon the announcement of a mostly clean bill of health, her malnourishment and the signs of lingering dark curses notwithstanding, and a quick good night to all in the room. Hermione would not have been able to deny that the matron's manner had surprised her that night, but she was very thankful for it. She didn't think she would have been able to answer any questions had she asked her any anyway and it had provided the jolt she needed to get her mind working again. It also didn't pass her notice that the woman had called her by her name, meaning that they had had a very good idea of who she was before she had woken up to confirm it.

Having managed to collect herself enough to think clearly about the situation she was in, Hermione pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, facing Professor Dumbledore in his chair and enabling her to see the other two professors still seated on the other side of the room. Professor McGonagall stared at her from where she sat, a concerned look written on her face. Professor Snape stared into the fire, his face his usual blank mask.

Hermione turned back to look at the headmaster and asked at last, "So, you mean to say that I am currently in the year 1991, in which I have just turned twelve years old and begun my first year at Hogwarts?"

Professor Dumbledore looked at her with his discerning eyes and replied, "Yes, my dear, I believe that that is the case."

"Do you know how I came to be here?" she asked, hoping beyond hope that he did and would be able to send her back to where she belonged before too long, right away even. She knew, though, that if that was the case then he and Professor McGonagall would not both be looking at her with such drawn looks on their faces.

"We do not. All we know is that you appeared in the library in front of our poor librarian with this book in your hands. We were hoping you'd be able to give us more of an idea as to how you came to be here. You gave Madam Pince quite the shock, I'm afraid. She isn't used to having disorder in the confines of her library and you brought quite a lot with you, especially as your younger self was in the library at the time of your arrival." She saw for the first time that he was holding the book that she had picked out of the restricted section in first year and again what now somehow seemed forever ago amongst the wreckage of the library. Upon hearing that she had arrived with the book, everything else that he said barely registered as her mind pondered the idea that maybe the book had somehow brought her here. She couldn't get too far with her theory, however, because her former headmaster's next question brought her back to the present. "May I ask how far in the future you have come from?"

She sighed as she contemplated the situation she was in and wondered just how much she should tell them. Revealing anything about the future could have devastating effects on the timeline and everything she had ever read about time travel had warned profusely against doing so. She decided it would be in her best interest, and the best interest of the future as she knew it, for her to keep as much knowledge of the future to herself as she could. So, with that being decided, she simply replied with, "I come from 1998, but I'm afraid I won't be able to tell you any more than that. Playing with time can have horrible consequences, as I'm sure you are aware, so I will have to politely refuse to answer any more questions you may have about where, or rather when, I have come from."

The famed twinkle entered the headmaster's eyes for the first time that night as he regarded her carefully. "No, indeed, we would not want to mess with the timeline in any way while you are with us. Though, I must say, my dear girl, you look as though perhaps changing the timeline would not be such a horrible thing in your case."

She was a little surprised by his candid appraisal of her appearance. She knew she looked pretty bad, worn and scarred and just altogether as though she had lived a rough life, but it wasn't like the Professor Dumbledore she knew to point that sort of thing out quite so readily. Or was it? She didn't really know him all that well, after all. Harry was always the one who had been close to him. He really hadn't paid her any mind, now that she thought about it. Never would she have dreamed that he would be the one to suggest allowing a change to the timeline, though. That seemed incredibly strange to her.

She looked at him as she thought over everything she knew about the man before her and she felt a new wariness creeping into her. There was no time at the present to fully analyze the feeling she was getting, to really think it over and get to the bottom of it, but she knew that this was not a feeling she had ever before felt toward the beloved headmaster of Hogwarts. She didn't like it.

The previous years had been tumultuous and difficult for everyone in the wizarding world, but no one, not even Hermione, had ever thought anything bad about the Albus Dumbledore, at least no one had ever said anything of the sort around her. It was strange to think that this man had been such an important figure in her life for so many years and she had never once, throughout the years of chaos and confusion, thought to distrust him. And now here she was, thrust into a time perhaps even more uncertain to her than the years of war she had faced previously and desperately in need of people she could trust, finding herself filled with distrust toward the one man she had thought only a moment ago would hold the key to getting her out of this situation.

In that moment she wanted only to be alone so she could try to regroup and think through all that was racing through her mind. As if sensing the shift in her mood, her closing off to those around her, Professor McGonagall spoke up for the first time. "Albus, perhaps it would be best to discuss this further in the morning. It is late now. I am sure Miss Granger needs some time to adjust to the news that she has received tonight. It is quite shocking to all of us here, to be sure."

Hermione sent the woman a thankful look as she began ushering the man out of the room, the dark potions master follow behind. She caught his eye as he stood in the doorway and was surprised to see something close to pity in his eye. Pity? He pitied her? How curious. But then he was gone and the door was shut, leaving her alone with her former head of house.

Professor McGonagall came over to her bedside for the first time that night and sat in the chair that had previously been occupied by the headmaster. She reached out and grasped Hermione's hand in both of hers as she said, "Don't worry about what the headmaster said. No one is going to try to get information regarding the future out of you. We all understand just how dangerous that would be. I'm sure you have a lot to think about right now, but I think it would be best if you tried to get some sleep. We can talk things over further in the morning and begin trying to find out how you got to be here, and how to get you back to where you belong." The professor looked at her sadly for a moment. "I promise I will do everything I can to help you while you're here."

She whispered a thank you to her professor as she headed to the door. With a fond "good night" the door was shut and Hermione was left alone to contemplate everything that had happened in the short amount of time since she had woken up.

A/N: First I want to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed! You're all so kind and hearing what you think really does make my day! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. This chapter was a little longer in coming as I was trying to better plan out how exactly I want the story to go, but then as I was writing the story just kinda took over and began leading me in a different direction. Haha :) That's one of the things I love about writing, though. Anyway, please let me know what you think!