"Auror Moody," a smiling man in his late sixties greeted Alastor where he was slumped onto a visitor's chair in the corridor. "Director Potter, Madam Potter, I presume?"

"Saul," Alastor sighed. The healers had forcibly removed them from the room now Catriona was awake and reasonably calm, citing the need to run a barrage of tests despite his clear objections.

"The healer was a bit vague on the details, why exactly have I been summoned?" Saul asked, sitting down next to him primly.

"I…a girl turned up just under a week ago. She had been tortured and half starved. Heritage test indicates she's mine."

"Yours?" Saul asked looking stunned, "Catriona?"

"Aye, only she goes by Hermione Granger these days apparently," Alastor responded bitterly, "Claims to have come from nineteen ninety-eight."

Saul froze, his mind whirling as he attempted to process that. "Well," he began briskly, "We have tests to check that."

"You do?" Charlus frowned.

Saul rolled his eyes, "Of course we do," he replied dismissively. "Time is infinitely fascinating. We've been studying it for decades."

"Right, so…you can tell if she's telling the truth?" Alastor checked.

"About the time she came from, yes. If she's telling the truth, she's hardly the first."

Alastor nodded silently, wondering what he would do if the results came back positive all while simultaneously attempting to process that this had happened before. The slightly stunned looks on Dorea and Charlus' faces indicated that they too were struggling with that revelation. "They're running some tests now," he murmured finally.

"Then I'll go and see if they'll allow a few more." Saul stood, bustling off into the room, leaving them in silence.

"Professor Croaker, this is Hermione Granger." Hermione watched the man warily, still not sure she wasn't sharing a ward with Neville's parents.

"Hello, Miss Granger. I was wondering if you'd consent to some tests?"

"What tests?" she queried with narrowed eyes.

"We have ways to prove you come from where you're claiming. I'd like to check. And then, depending on the results perhaps you'd consent to a chat?"

She nodded slowly, trying not to flinch when he raised his wand. Her entire body tensed as she waited on some sort of impact even as the Norse she thought he was chanting piqued her interest; it sounded like spells she'd read about but never seen.

Saul froze as he stopped chanting, blinking at the reading that was hovering next to the girl's head. "Good gods," he muttered. The healers paused, watching him carefully. "It would seem as if we need to have that chat now, Miss Granger."

"She's telling the truth?" Healer Williams gasped.

"So it would seem," he agreed, as he marvelled at the result he had only ever seen once before in his career. "I want the standard confidentiality contract owled to me within the next two minutes. If this gets out..." he trailed off.

All three healers nodded, bustling from the room. "We'll be back to see about those potions Miss Granger," Healer Williams warned as she left.

"What now?" Hermione asked into the silence they left, fighting the urge to squirm under Professor Croaker's calculating gaze.

"Well now, Miss Granger, I'm going to ask you to tell me what happened before you woke."

"What if this isn't real?" she whispered.

"Why wouldn't it be real?" he frowned.

"Because…I wouldn't be the first person Bellatrix put in St Mungo's. Although…she'd probably just have killed me, wouldn't she?" she turned to look at him properly, her voice suddenly stronger, "I'd definitely be dead which…which means this has to be real but..it can't be, can it?"

"Miss Granger," Saul began, taking in the battered girl in front of him, "I truly cannot even imagine what happened before you came here but I promise you this is real."

She nodded slowly, desperately trying to remain in control when all she wanted to do was scream. "What…what happens if I change things?"

Saul paused, considering it, "I imagine the answer to that depends on how you came to be here. I do have to wonder if it's linked to how you ended up there."

She hummed, "Auror Moody says I'm his daughter."

"You do look remarkably like his wife," Saul agreed.

"You knew her?"

"Distantly, Alastor and I have worked together on and off for many years. It…breeds a familiarity of sorts. She was..an incredibly talented witch. Now, why don't you tell me what happened so we have somewhere to start?"

Haltingly, Hermione began to describe some of the last few months. The impossible mission, the tent, her capture. Bellatrix. The last battle. Expanding on it slightly to encapsulate some of the other events from her Hogwarts years as he asked her questions.

"I see," Saul murmured. "Your mother was related to the Rosses, did you know that?"

Hermione shook her head, not sure where he was going with this. "As far as I knew, my mother was a muggle."

Saul winced, "Yes, I imagine this must be rather jarring. However…your mothers Aunt was one Minerva McGonagall. Making the woman your Great-Aunt."

Hermione blinked back at him, "What?"

"Ah, you're familiar with the witch?" At Hermione's nod, he continued, "Then perhaps we start there. Family grimoires are such fascinating things, Miss…Granger was it? And I do wonder if the reason you were sent, and the reason you came back can be found in one of them. For all our sakes I hope it's in the Ross one. Merlin knows we have no idea who attacked you and your mother that night, and it wouldn't do to speculate."

"You think it was deliberate?" Hermione checked.

"Yes. I do. I have seen many things in my lifetime, Miss Granger. Working where I do, you get used to the unexpected. There is nothing we know of that makes what happened to you originally possible. So…how open to meeting your Aunt are you? She is the current keeper of the Ross family Grimoire, I believe."

"How…how do I pretend not to know her?"

"You knew her well?" Saul checked.

"Reasonably, she was…my Head of House. And…I knew her reasonably well," she ended lamely.

"I see. Well, we can have her take a vow. Perhaps being reacquainted with someone you know won't be a bad thing," he paused, knowing it wasn't his place but determined to do something for the broken looking man waiting in the hall, "What are you going to do about your father?"

"I…I don't know! I don't know him as anything other than Auror Moody…it's…it's all fucking surreal!"

"I imagine it is, Miss Granger. Might I make a suggestion?" She nodded slowly, "Give him a chance. The supposed deaths of you and your mother destroyed something in him. I can only assume what the behaviour of the man you knew was like. But that is not who he is now. And perhaps your return will benefit more than just the timeline."

"You don't think I'll destroy it?" she whispered, a flash of fear shooting over her face.

"I think if my theory is correct, no. I'd really like to be sure, although, this is your timeline, not the one you came from. Even if everything changes, it is perhaps how it was meant to be."

She nodded again, clearly mulling that over "Fine. I…will you send Professor McGonagall here?"

"Yes, I think so. The sooner we get our hands on those books, Miss Granger, the better."

Minerva McGonagall took in the slumped form of Alastor Moody and wondered what on earth had happened this time. She hadn't seen the man in years. After Ailsa…well, he'd shut himself off from them. It had hurt more than she cared to admit. "Alastor?" she queried softly.

"Minerva," he greeted with a tilt of his head and a slightly wry smile. "How are you?"

"I'm well, Alastor. And you?" she paused, not quite sure how to ask.

"I'm not sure," he mused, surprising her.

"Oh?"

"I've been instructed to wait on Professor Croaker," he muttered.

Saul arrived just as Minerva was attempting to make that make sense. "Ah! Professor McGonagall!"

"Professor Croaker," she greeted, "What is going on? School resumes in two days time and I really should be making preparations."

"Well, Healer Mactavish has offered her office, why don't we begin in there." Saul suggested, ignoring her comment.

Minerva bit back a huff of annoyance before nodding slowly, turning to Alastor. "Are you coming?"

"Might as well," he groused, "Not allowed anywhere else."

Saul rolled his eyes. "You sound like a petulant child."

"I was kicked out!"

"So they could run more tests! Are Charlus and Dorea joining us?"

"They're already in there." He muttered.

Saul rolled his eyes again, gesturing Minerva forward, ignoring her questioning looks.

"Alright," Saul announced as they all took their seats. "I'm going to need a vow from you all because if what I'm about to say gets out it would be catastrophic."

Charlus and Dorea nodded, but Minerva raised her eyebrows. "What sort of vow?"

"A vow of secrecy. It's unspeakable made, you'll be physically unable to share dangerous information with anyone not keyed in. It's not harmful, you'll just not have control over what you do say."

"Lovely," she deadpanned.

"We think so," Saul beamed. "Now. Sign this." he handed sheets of parchment to all of them."

"You expect me to sign this?" Alastor snarled, visibly bristling.

"Yes. It prevents anyone from removing the information by force. Handy little charm, if I do say so myself."

Alastor glowered but signed the parchment. "Is someone going to explain now?" Minerva checked as they handed the parchments back.

"Yes. A girl shown to be Catriona Moody appeared in a worrying state a week ago. She was verified as being from nineteen ninety-eight. She is…confused as to what's real, apparently before she ah..left, she was tortured." Minerva drew in a sharp breath. "She is…recovering but it's slow. Physically, I imagine she'll be in a reasonable condition shortly, but mentally? She is struggling. We need to see the Ross family Grimoire. Nothing we know of explains this."

Minerva nodded, looking faint. "She…how is she?"

"She's a tough cookie," Saul smiled reassuringly. "She will be ok. But…she knew you."

"What?" Minerva stared back at him uncomprehendingly.

"You were her Head of House. I don't quite know what transpired but she tells me she knew you relatively well. It's a….I think there was more she wasn't saying but perhaps you'll get more out of her. She is…wary of everyone else. Apparently, she knew Alastor but not hugely well. Dorea reminded her of Bellatrix. The association wasn't good. She's never met Charlus. We need a way to make her feel comfortable."

"And you think I can do that?" Minerva asked incredulously.

"I think you're our best hope." Saul sighed, as he looked sympathetically at Alastor who was slumped in his chair looking dejected.

"Very well," Minerva murmured. "We can but try."

"Good," Saul clapped his hands, "I'm going to take Minerva alone." He tried not to wince when Alastor slumped back in his seat from where he'd moved to stand. "Alastor," he began softly, "Just…give her time. Her entire world has been turned upside down."

"She looks at me and flinches," he muttered.

"She knew you," Saul reminded him slowly, "And not many of those memories were good."

Alastor's head shot up, "What did she tell you?"

Saul frowned, "What has she told you?"

"Nothing! Apparently, I had a magical eye and wooden leg but nothing else!"

"Well fuck," Saul muttered, before he sighed, "Look…gods. A Death Eater polyjuiced themselves as you and taught her Defence for a year. It was… complicated, he was directly responsible for setting up some unpleasant things but he was…we'll go with insane. Other than that, you were responsible for some protection missions involving her and her friends. Apparently, you avoided her where possible. I assume because of her likeness to Ailsa. I can only imagine how painful that was. But you were….on the odd occasions you had to interact with her you were short and prickly and she was more than a little aware that you didn't seem to like her. Obviously, she made the connections to Ailsa and Catriona and can see how it would be difficult but the…emotions are still there. She has so much to work through it's going to take a while. And that's before we even begin to try and deal with the fact that you were dead in her time."

Alastor was pale by the time he'd finished speaking. "Why did they need protection?"

"It's…a conversation we're going to have to have but not just now. It's…fucking hell. I want to tell you that she's had an amazing childhood but this war we're fighting. She fought it too. If we can stop it, prevent things from happening.…we're all going to owe her a great deal."

"How long has she been fighting?" Alastor barked, looking horrified.

"Since she was twelve," Saul replied apologetically, "She said she mentioned that. Not…not directly fighting I suppose. The real fighting didn't come until she was fifteen. She was…she became a notable target in this war. Undesirable number two she said. All we can do is remember that she's going to have the information to hopefully stop it this time. I've asked for a list of key dates and people. Some are…surprising."

"Oh?" Dorea voiced, seeing Alastors frozen face.

"Narcissa Malfoy was mentioned. Regulus Black. I didn't recognise Severus Snape."

Charlus coughed, "I do. James never stops complaining about the boy. Apparently, he's on course to becoming a Death Eater."

"Oh, he is." Saul agreed, "She just wants to do something about that. Was adamant truth be told. Ah…Peter Pettigrew?"

Charlus grinned, "James' friend."

"Yes," Saul grimaced, "She was adamant we do something about him too. I was lucky she's still recovering or I'm not sure I'd have been able to stop her from hunting the boy down."

"What?" Charlus gasped, "I've met him several times! He's…utterly harmless!"

"Apparently not." Saul sighed, "She was…she told me what happened. Even Bellatrix didn't invoke such an intense reaction. Um..anyway, we'll make a plan for that. We have time."

"How do you know?" Charlus demanded, reeling slightly as he thought of the boy James was so close to being some sort of threat.

"Oh, she gave a rough timeline. October 1981 is our sort of… last-chance deadline. Now, who else….the Prewett twins. Remus Lupin. She got rather irate discussing him."

"What's wrong with Remus Lupin?" Dorea asked fearfully.

"Oh, nothing so much as she was furious about how our world treated him. She was surprisingly fond of the man. Sirius Black was another one she was clearly fond of."

"She knew them?" Charlus asked, sounding bewildered.

"Yes. Reasonably well from what I can gather. Um…oh. Dolores Umbridge. She…well. Her reaction to her was on par with Pettigrew. I ah…she mentioned something about centaurs that I probably don't want to delve into too deeply. It was…she was furious and I gather it was….an event that happened rather than a wish."

"This Umbridge attacked the centaurs?" Dorea asked with a frown.

"Ah no…" Saul replied slowly, "I got the impression the Centaurs ah…helped immensely while dealing with this Umbridge. Encouraged by Hermione."

There was a slightly stunned silence in the room before Alastor began to laugh. "Violent little thing, is she?"

"Vindictive rather than violent I think. Umbridge was another Defence professor. She made things a living hell from what I can tell from reading between the lines. She was eventually headmistress and seemed to like to use a blood quill as punishment." There were several sharp intakes of breath. "Yes. Well. I think your daughter dealt with her rather conclusively for that infraction. Um, who else…Rita Skeeter?"

"The Prophet reporter?"

"That's her."

"What did she do?"

"She started a smear campaign against your daughter and one of her friends." Saul's grin was suddenly wicked. "So Hermione captured her and made her live in a jar in animagus form."

"I'm sorry, she did what?" Minerva asked faintly.

"She's a beetle apparently. An unregistered beatle. It's how she gets those delightful stories of hers."

"Holy mother of Morgana," Minerva muttered. "How long was she in the jar?"

"A month or so, apparently. Hermione gave her to a supposed mass murderer to watch."

"She what?" Alastor shouted.

"Oh. He wasn't a mass murderer. She knew that but ah…Rita did not."

"That's…Good Godric." Minerva sat down sharply.

"Yes, delightful little vengeful streak," Saul grinned, "It makes her much more fun."

"Fun!" Minerva repeated, sounding like she had no idea how she'd got here.

"Oh come on now, let's not pretend that that Gryffindor loyalty doesn't make you slightly vengeful on occasion," Saul smirked. Minerva rolled her eyes but didn't comment. "Right then, let's go see this vengeful little lion and see if we can convince her to trust us."

Huffing, Minerva got back to her feet, following him out the door.

"She'll come round, Alastor," Dorea soothed, reaching to squeeze his shoulder.

"I hope so," he muttered, not looking sure.

Minerva took a deep breath before slowly entering the room. On the bed was a skeletal girl with wary eyes and hair that resembled her own forced into submission by way of two thick plaits. It took her breath away as she saw her niece's image for the first time since her death. "Sweet Merlin, you look like your mother." She blurted.

The girl's eyes went wide "Professor," she whispered.

"Minerva I think," she murmured, "Aunt Minerva technically." Hermione didn't comment, not entirely sure how much more she could take. Seeing Minerva was bittersweet. The last time she'd seen her Head of House, Dolohov had just cursed her with the curse Hermione had barely survived in fifth year. It was jarring.

She swallowed harshly but nodded, not trusting her voice.

"I'll leave you two to get reacquainted," Saul smiled, trying to look confident when Hermione's eyes rose to look at him, horror and fear written plainly on her face. "It will be fine." he soothed, wishing there was something he could do to exorcise the nightmares she clearly saw when she looked at certain people.

"Saul mentioned your name is Hermione now?" Minerva ventured, not entirely sure where to start. Hermione nodded. "I was your Head of House?" She nodded again, and Minerva bit back a sigh. "There were some interesting names on that list of yours. How familiar are you with Severus Snape?" She tried, hoping for a verbal response.

"He was my Potions professor," Hermione whispered, seeing the snake tearing out the man's throat in her head.

Minerva's eyebrows shot up in surprise," Really?" she blurted before she could stop herself.

Hermione's mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile. "Really. He…I won't pretend he was nice but he was…effective."

"Right," Minerva muttered, trying and subsequently failing to picture the Severus Snape she knew in charge of children. "Right. Why do you want to save him?"

A shadow passed over Hermione's face, "I…his…he was…." she sighed, "He deserves to be." she said finally before her mouth twisted into a wry smile, "I don't imagine he'll thank me for it…he was horrid, a lot of the time. He had no love of teaching, and no patience for those who didn't quite understand immediately, but he…he protected us when he didn't have to. Repeatedly. He was forced into a horrendous situation and made to keep going back, all to keep us safe. He was not a nice man, he was lonely and bitter and often, a bully, but he was the bravest man I have ever known. And he deserves a chance to be happy."

"I see," Minerva murmured, "And Mr Black?"

"Which one?"

"The younger."

"Oh. I don't know him at all. He made the right decision eventually and it cost him his life. I have no idea if we'll be able to persuade him to not be an arse but we can only try."

Minerva snorted in spite of herself. "Indeed. What about Mr Black the elder?"

A small sad smile appeared on Hermione's face. "I knew him well," she said softly. "He was my best friend's godfather. He…life wasn't fair to him. He missed so much but he was like the irreverent older brother I never had. Remus often had to step in and be the adult," she smiled slightly, "They were like an old married couple somedays and like parent and child others. He…he died during our fifth year. I've missed him ever since."

"Good Godric." Minerva murmured, "Saul said you can save them?"

An unreadable look crossed her face, "I'm going to try," she murmured.

In a horrifying hit of realisation, Minerva felt her blood turn cold, "You cannot mean to be actively fighting in this war? You're what? Seventeen?"

"Eighteen," Hermione nodded, "And of course I do. How can I not?"

"I…Look at you! Look at what they did to you!

She shrugged, turning to look at Minerva with hard eyes, "I've already lost everything. There is very little else they can do to me. I need to see this finished and I have the information to do just that."

"But you…surely if you just pass on the information, someone else can act on it?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. this isn't a discussion. You were all happy to use teenagers once, don't tell me you lost your moral code over the years."

Minerva flinched, "What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Perhaps that was unfair. You tended to try and get him to see us as humans not pawns. It doesn't change anything though. We weren't people. We were pawns. It is not a coincidence that something happened every year I was at school. There were many points where someone, anyone, could have stepped in and stopped three students always being the ones with the answers. But no one did. We were sent on a suicide mission with no information, no leads, and were warned not to tell anyone. We were barely of age." Minerva grimaced at her bitterness. "It killed my two best friends. I imagine it was meant to kill me, given that we're not sure of the magic involved in my appearing here, perhaps it did. All so a corrupt old man could sit in his office and pretend he was in control."

"Who?" Minerva asked in spite of herself.

"I think you know," Hermione shrugged. "I was never the important one, my best friend, however, was. I imagine I was just collateral damage. It truly didn't matter whether I lived but Harry was meant to at least end things before he died, at the proper moment, of course. Apparently, he miscalculated." Minerva did, unfortunately, know who the girl was referring to, not that she necessarily agreed with Hermione's description but she could work out who she meant. "You might not see it yet, but the information that man holds directly impacts who lives and who dies. Tell me, how fair was it that Sirius Black got away with sending Snape to Remus during the full moon? How fair was it that Snape was threatened in order to keep him quiet? How fair was it that they bullied him?"

"It wasn't…"

"It wasn't like that?" Hermione shrugged, "I adored both Sirius and Remus. And Merlin knows there was no love lost between me and Professor Snape, but it absolutely was like that. Your House shouldn't determine whether you get a free pass on being an arsehole. And it does. But Sirius was the poster child for how old blood can be progressive. The Potters were needed on side. Remus had to be grateful in order to be manipulated. What was one aspiring Death Eater in the face of all that?"

Minerva flinched at both her words and the detached way she spoke. "Your father is going to have some thoughts," she said finally.

"And he can have them. But the last time I checked I was of age and therefore not answerable to anyone. I…look I can't quite imagine what he went through and I'm….sorry for it. But I had a father. His name was Micheal Granger and he was a dentist. He read me stories at bedtime, taught me how to punch and took me to football games. It's…I might be her but I'm also not. And I don't think I can be."

"He doesn't want you to be her." Minerva protested.

"Yes. He does. He wants his little girl back and I…I just can't. I'm not Catriona Moody, not really. And no amount of wishing will turn me into her."

Minerva let out a slow breath, not quite ready to admit the truth of her statement. "Will you let us get to know Hermione Granger?" she asked softly.

"Will you be trying to stop me from getting involved in this war?" she countered.

"You know he's going to try lass. As much as you are Hermione Granger, you are also Catriona Moody. He…when he lost you and your mother he shut everyone out. It destroyed him and he's going to take whatever you give him, even if your distance is painful because it at least means you are here and you are alive."

Hermione sighed, "I don't want to hurt him," she said softly. "But I…I don't know how to act with this Moody. He was….he wants something from me I don't know that I have."

"Then give him what you can," Minerva suggested, "If nothing else he is an excellent duelist and if you are determined to fight in this war then perhaps you could utilise that?"

Hermione nodded slowly and she almost slumped in her relief. It was a start. "Now, tell me what advances are there in transfiguration in the next twenty years?"

Startled, Hermione laughed. "Um, not a huge amount to be honest," she grimaced apologetically. "They were trying to get around Gamps Laws but not having much success. A Professor in America was trying to prove you could switch through multiple animagus forms but I don't know if he actually managed it,"

Minerva's eyebrows shot up "Multiple forms?"

"Yes. It'd be pretty cool if someone figured it out."

"Are you an animagus, Hermione?" Minerva asked with interest.

She shook her head, "You took me through the visualisations, I know what my form is but we didn't have time to finish."

"I took you through it?" Minerva asked in surprise.

"Yes. During my sixth year."

"Oh my. Why didn't we have time to complete it?"

"The world went to hell and we had to leave before our seventh year to go on the aforementioned mission when we were barely of age.."

"Ah," she murmured, almost wishing she hadn't asked. "Would you like to resume?"

"Um…if you don't mind?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"No," Minerva's smile was genuine, "I think I'd like that. What about your NEWTs?"

"I ah…never took them.,"

"Would you like to?"

Hermione shrugged, "it would have made a difference once upon a time. Now? I'm not sure it matters."

"Why wouldn't it matter?" Minerva frowned.

"I'm about to fight another war," Hermione replied softly. "I…got lucky once. More than once actually. If we're being realistic I got lucky five times. Luck has to run out eventually."

"Five times?" Minerva queried, horrified.

"Basilisk in second year, Dolohov in fifth, Death eaters in sixth, Bellatrix during the year from hell, Voldemort and Bellatrix during the last battle." she recited watching with detached awareness as Minerva paled.

"Sweet Merlin." Minerva breathed, "I…What on earth were you doing near a basilisk? Why were you near Death Eaters in sixth year?"

"Oh," she paused, "It's in the school. And ah, they invaded the school."

"Mother of Morganna"

Hermione shrugged awkwardly as a healer bustled in with her afternoon potions. "Down two today, Miss Granger, getting there!"

Hermione snorted, "Yup. Who knew six a day would be a good thing."

The healer looked at her with something nearing sympathy. "Yes well, better than the ten, no?"

"Yes," Hermione sighed, "Definitely yes."

The healer hummed, "You'll be well enough to go home in a day or two, have you had a thought about your plans?"

Hermione froze, "I ah…."

"Give us a minute Healer Leaman," Minerva instructed before turning to Hermione. "You are welcome to stay with me but…going home with Alastor will let you get to know him. It will also allow you to remain off Albus' radar,"

Hermione hummed, before she slumped, nodding. "Fine."

"You might just find you like him if you give him a chance," she voiced pointedly

"Maybe," Hermione sighed. She paused as something occurred to her. "Did…was there anything with me when I came in?"

"I don't know, but perhaps a question for the healer?"

She nodded looking pensive, all of a sudden feeling incredibly vulnerable as it occurred to her that she had no wand.