AN:

These early chapters are coming together much more quickly than anticipated because this one wasn't scheduled to be ready until November 9th. But of course since it is ready and I have yet to grasp the execution behind keeping a catalog of pre-written chapters, I'm now presenting the next chapter a whole 8 days ahead of my schedule.

Enjoy

Chapter Five

Per McGonagall's - Minerva, it was going to be odd adjusting to calling the witch who had been her professor and mentor just that morning by her given name - suggestion, Hermione had been moved to a private room within the infirmary reserved for the staff and cases such as the one she had been after the incident at the Department of Mysteries. She remained there for the duration of what was left of the morning, taking lunch with Dumbledore - Albus as he regularly reminded her - while he probed her with questions about her education and desired career path.

Not wanting to give away the frivolous dream she held onto despite knowing it would be a waste of all the education she had recklessly coveted, she had provided him with the standard answer she gave to all: working within the Department of International Magical Co-operation or the Department of Magical Education. It was painfully obvious however that he hadn't believed her. Not questioning her further though, he had forged a set of SEALs - Standards of Education for Advanced Learning, the Durmstrang equivalent of NEWTs - for her, that would allow her to pursue such a course of career after the slow moving machine that was the Ministry transcribed them over to NEWTs. It was a process he had warned could take as long as nine months to finalize and once started, could very well put her fake identity on Tom's radar.

Understanding the subtle implications of what being an Order member on the radar of Voldemort - or as she was quickly having to retrain her mind into saying with the coming of the Taboo, You-Know-Who - could mean, Hermione had still agreed to the impressive results and subsequent filing of them. She had chosen to end her schooling in order to help sway things behind the scenes of history and the prospect of potentially having to pose as a Death Eater sympathizer so she could get within their social circles didn't faze her. If anything, the idea of fooling the blood supremacists who looked down upon her unforgivable existence eighteen years in the future into believing she belonged, excited her. Or it would have if she didn't know she was atrocious at lying. Misrepresentation of the facts she could do. Telling a blatant mistruth however, made her sweaty and her heart race like a rabbit on the run from a wolf.

Promising to have her out of Hogwarts and with a trusted member of his Order as her guide later that afternoon, Albus had left the hospital wing, opening the door for Madame Pomfrey to swoop in. The matron was not only the healer for Hogwarts but for the Order as well. She helped them circumnavigate the red tape of Saint Mungo's that required the filing of paperwork with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for all suspicious emergency cases or cases most clearly having come in contact with dark magic - a regular occurrence for those involved in ambushing, and getting ambushed by, Death Eaters.

Requiring a complete medical history on file in the event she would need emergency healing, the Mediwitch's examination of her had run the gambit. She had required things as noninvasive as a blood sample to help curate tailored Blood Replenish potions to things such as her sexual history - of which there wasn't one having spent her school years lusting after her Potions Professor instead wizards her own age who, like Ron with Lavendar, would have wasted no time in attempting to sate the rush of her hormones. It had finally ended with a heavily detailed recount of every encounter she had had with dark creatures, magic, and objects since entering the Wizarding World, prompting the removal of several subtle glamours she wore to appease her own teenage vanity.

Her first year she had escaped relatively unscathed though she did detail her cowering before the troll, her run in with Fluffy, and later Professor Sprout's Devil's Snare, to be sure there was nothing of note. Her second year was a bit harder to navigate without giving too much away that would prompt Madame Pomfrey to demand an immediate search of the school. Hermione had managed to remain vague on the finer points while still getting the message across that she had spent nearly two months petrified due to a dark creature. Her third year truly unsettled the matron. The very idea of Dementors being allowed anywhere near a school full of children had disgusted her. That was also the year she saw her first set of scars which she had begun to reveal while recounting the night of Lupin's transformation.

"You seem to be quite in awe of this professor," Madame Pomfrey teasingly observed. "How old would he be now?"

"Close enough in age to make it tempting if not for…"

"Not for what?" She asked, photographing the scar back of her torso from when Remus had nearly pinned her before Buckbeak had come to hers and Harry's rescue.

"Well for one, he will still be future me's professor, so that's an issue."

"And two?"

Chewing on her cheek, Hermione puzzled over her words wondering how best to answer. It wasn't as if there was a published list of known Death Eaters, so she couldn't be blunt about Professor Snape's current or soon to be affiliation in the war. And that in and of itself was another problem. Just when had he become a part of Voldemort's ranks, receiving his Dark Mark? At this point he'd have been out of school for little over six months so it was more than possible he already was. Regardless, it wasn't information she could give away since she imagined most of the staff wouldn't appreciate a former Death Eater within their walls.

"Never mind dear; there are only two reasons a witch such as yourself would take that long to answer and something tells me it's not because he's married. However what Albus is even thinking by allowing such a sort to teach within the walls of Hogwarts, is beyond me. He must be some wizard though to not only win over the Headmaster's loyalty in light of his current dealings with the war, but to also catch your attention given everything that would be implied about him and his beliefs in regards to muggleborns."

Feeling a fierce need to defend the man she knew, Hermione said, "I don't know what possessed him to join Vol - You-Know-Who - in the first place but I can tell you, that until he and Dumbledore come to whatever agreement they have, the Order is worse off without him. There's no way we could have managed the little that we have in my time had it not been for him. He's dark, exacting, has almost no patience, and is often carelessly cruel but he's also selfless, honorable, intelligent beyond acceptable reason, painfully funny though his wit is so sharp and dry most miss it all together-"

"Your romanticizing of the proverbial bad boy, knows no end does it, Hermione?" Madame Pomfrey chuckled.

Replying with a candor she didn't mean to voice, she said, "Why anyone would want a wizard or a man who would sacrifice them for the greater good is beyond me. If I'm going to fall in love and leave myself to become vulnerable in the hands of another, I'm going to be selfish about it and wish to be the one they place above all else. A hero could never provide me with that sort of love. A villain can and frankly, the villains are just the ones no one loved enough to save in the original story."

Making a soft sound that neither agreed nor disagreed with her statement, Madame Pomfrey continued along with documenting Hermione's history. Following her third year, the Mediwitch was pleased to note that nothing worthy of being in her file had occurred and continued on to her fifth year. It was here however that her easy relaying of her history, now Madame Pomfrey's future, stalled. Having preferred to cover up the evidence of what had transpired not even a year ago in her original timeline, she tapped her wand first to the back of her left hand and then to her chest, swiftly unbuttoning the starched blouse of her uniform.

Holding her hand out, she dispassionately said, "Daily lines in detention with a Black Quill. Five days in April before the holiday and for four weeks after until we were released for OWL revision. The sheer number of us who had received that particularly barbaric punishment, dwindled my Murtlap Essence supply at an exponential rate so I went without so I in order to treat others. We were unable to seek anyone out for aide and my owl orders for more went unsent due to the monitoring of our mail."

"Children; this was allowed to be practiced on children?" Madame Pomfrey questioned shrilly. "Who in their irrevocably fractured mind allowed such a thing to occur?" Tracing her fingers over the raised letters that scarred Hermione's hand, she softly read, "I will learn my place."

Pulling her hand back and hiding it underneath her thigh as soon as the flash of the camera subsided, Hermione pulled her blouse open. Revealing her chest and abdomen, she once more recounted the facts of her past with a detached, clinical manner that she could visibly see how unsettled it made the Mediwitch.

"Custom curse, curiosity of Antonin Dolohov. It's designed to liquify the victim's internal organs. I silenced him before he could finish the verbal incantation. I'm told it's the only reason I didn't die within the Department of Mysteries." Swiftly changing the subject before her mind was invaded by a flash bang of memories of how horribly that night had gone, she attempted levity by saying, "The scar is rather interesting, isn't it? Instead of mirroring the wand stroke it reflects the path of healing.

"Personally I think it looks a little like Caelum. What do you think?"

"I must admit, Astronomy wasn't my strong suit way back when I was a student," Madame Pomfrey responded with a forced laugh. "But yes, it does sort of resemble a star map. Who healed you? Based on the unusual pattern it had to have been a personal creation."

"You did. Well you and that Professor I mentioned."

"Ah, it makes much more sense now. He's your personal knight in shining armor."

"Something like that," she smiled, drawing her wand over the scar within seconds of it being photographed.

"Fairy tale aside, Hermione, be careful if you see him. Whoever he is, he's not the man you know from your time. You can't trust him now the way you did then."

Nodding her head as she concealed the scar on her chest before doing up her blouse, she mumbled, "Yes, ma'am," falling back into a quiet conversation about the rest of her medical history.

"Well I think that's everything, Hermione," Madame Pomfrey decided, closing her decently thick file. "My only other question is, would you like for me to set you up with a birth control potion and an apothecary to receive your monthly supply from?"

Barking out a laugh at the question, Hermione quickly sobered as she met the witch's eyes.

"Oh you're serious? Did you forget I'm a virgin?"

"Very much so. And be that as it may, you're an adult witch who is going out into the world to live an adult life. You should take precautions for when a time comes that you no longer wish to be a virgin."

"Thank you, but no. I can't in good conscience get involved with anyone of this time. Who knows how it could alter my past."

"Well should that change, here's the name of a reputable shop in Diagon Alley," she said, handing over an elegant business card. "A former student who I routinely treated during his tenure and who brewed for me as part of his apprenticeship before he graduated last summer, is on contract with them. Just tell them I sent you for Severus Snape and he'll make sure there's space for you as a regular client."

Choking on her last sip of pumpkin juice, Hermione coughed, "Severus Snape, got it," stuffing the card into her bag where she wished she could forget its existence.

"Wonderful, then I believe we are done here," she decided with a pleasant, almost mothering smile. At the sound of her office floo flaring to life she added, "And just in time to. I do believe that to be the Headmaster with your escort."

Verifying that her scars were adequately covered, that her hair was pulled back and secured into some semblance of being tamed, and that her clothing was to rights, Hermione prepared herself for another jarring rendition of meeting people who she knew at nearly twenty years their current senior. Hearing a feminine voice mixed in with several curious and rowdy male voices, she said a silent prayer that Dumbledore hadn't fetched Molly Weasley of all people. While everyone else loved the woman like their own mother, she had experienced one too many encounters with the witch's nastier, more spiteful side to see her in the same light. And however uncharitable it made her, it was an opinion far too set in stone for her to change. You simply did not treat someone as young as your children's age, someone they socialized with and who had been invited into your home, the way she had Hermione.

"Though I know I don't need to, I must stress the importance of keeping her identity and how she came to join the Order a secret once more," Dumbledore said, just on the other side of her door. "Aside from myself, Minerva, and Poppy, you four are the only ones who will know her true identity; it must remain that way unless such a time comes when Miss Granger wishes others to know. Which reminds me," he hummed, opening her door the rest of the way. "We need to determine a new surname for you; one not only befitting of your Durmstrang attendance but that will distance you from being Hermione Granger."

"Lukovë."

"Well that was quick. I dare say I needn't have compiled this list."

"Sorry, Professor - Albus," she corrected, seeing the incline of his head and raised brow. "I recall from my holiday in Bulgaria with that friend I mentioned, that the name is fairly popular amongst wizards and muggles alike, with multiple variations in spelling. I think its commonness would prevent further inquiry into my family history. It also has the added benefit of drawing upon a small Albanian beach village. Though You-Know-Who's time there was some years ago, I believe it will remain just as enticing since he will eventually return there.

"If we're to attempt putting me on his radar, we may as well make me as irresistible as possible, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, but only if no other avenue of information is made available to us, Miss Lokovë. I am not yet ready to risk sending a muggleborn to masquerade amongst some of the most antiquated believing families. But that is a topic for another time. Instead, may I introduce you to those whom I believe you will get along famously with."

Spilling into the room like freshly knocked over bowling pins, were three ghosts from her future and one significantly younger werewolf. Her eyes darted from face to face as her mind stuttered at the information it was seeing. Remus was more than handsome in his thirties but hovering between eighteen and nineteen with his coiffed ash blond hair, scruffy, not yet sacred, face - something he had cleaned up when he had been her professor - openly dual colored eyes, and spiritual livity that had yet to be weighed down by war, lies, and loss, he was undeniably devastating.

As the only other person in the room she had known prior to the day's events, her eyes swept over to Sirius next, her lips parting as her thoughts escaped her mouth.

"You two could be twins…"

"What was that, pet?"

"Yes, you two could definitely be twins," she confirmed, with half a smile and none too small roll of her eyes at the overly familiar use of pet names.

Wrapping his arm around Harry's - James's - neck, Sirius replied, "He's handsome enough but I don't think I'd call us twins, though we are basically brothers if that's your thing," with a suggestive wiggle of his brow.

"I was referring to Regulus, and no, that is not my thing."

"Pity," he deflated for all of half a second before puffing back up to ask Dumbledore, "What are we doing about my brother knowing her?"

"Nothing to worry over; the matter has been handled."

In a move that shocked her for how little he acquiesced to anything in the future, he shrugged and said, "In that case, allow me the honor of introducing us all.

"This here is Remus and he's very much single if he pleases you."

"Thanks, Padfoot," Remus replied with feigned shortness, as he shoved his friend's hand off his chest, stepping forward. "Remus Lupin, it's nice to meet you. Sirius is a lot to handle and I wish I could say his bark is worse than his bite, but frankly that would be too kind considering his mouth habitually runs away from him. The rest of us however actually have manners and home training so you'll be in good hands."

Taking over the introductions, he continued, "Since you've already been baptized in fire with all that is Sirius Black, that's James Potter," he said pointing to Harry's doppelgänger of a father.

"He's single too," Sirius unnecessarily supplied. "I think at least, what is going on with you and Lils after you crashed home, drunk as niffler last night, Prongs?"

"Merlin, someone get him a muzzle. He's going to terrify Hermione," James laughed, dodging having to provide an actual answer.

Pushing the trio of self named Marauders out of the way, the stunning redhead who would become Harry's mum, invited herself to sit on Hermione's bed. Tucking a leg beneath herself, she said with exaggerated relief, "Thank Merlin, another witch in the group! You have no idea what it's been like being surrounded by this lot day in and day out. I'm dying for some witchly companionship."

"Lils, why didn't you tell us?" Sirius crowed, looking like the devil had just planted the most awful of ideas in his head. "We would have gladly facilitated you with someone of the fairer sex to play with."

"Sirius, I hope fleas gnaw off your testicles," she snapped, throwing the pillow that had been in Hermione's lap at him. "Remus, I'm begging you, next time go all Alpha on the puppy's arse and leave him at home where he can lick himself in the privacy of his own crate."

Laughing and feeling more than a little heartsick at the easiness the foursome showed, she said, "Believe me, I understand your need completely." With her eyes lingering once more on James, her smile faltered as she said, "My two best friends are… were… will be… were," she decided. "They were wizards, so I highly doubt the antics of these three will detour me."

Grasping her hand, Lily sympathized, "Well we can't, nor would we want to, replace them but hopefully in time you'll come to think of us just as fondly. And if you would like, Remus, James, and I could take out one evening this week as sort of a double date. I'd offer you Sirius but one, he and James would be too busy with each other to remember we exist. And two, if we did manage to turn their attention to us," she counted off, arranging several of Hermione's curls, "you don't seem ready for how advanced Sirius is."

Not getting a chance to ponder all the possible meanings behind Lily's words before James responded with the same flatness his son exuded when trying to rein in his anger, Hermione's attention was caught once more by him as he said, "Oh a double date, really? And here I thought we had broken up since just last night, you threw a glass vase at my head, called me an, 'arrogant, immature toe-rag,' and kicked me out of your flat."

"That's because you were acting like one, James Potter!" She snapped, making her realize her friend's quick temper was in fact a trait from his mother and not his father as she had always assumed based on the stories. "Just because we get into a fight doesn't mean we've broken up. People fight, it's a natural part of relationships. Unless of course there's another reason you're so eager to all of a sudden be rid of me," she glared, taking her hand back from Hermione and releasing her curls with a slight tug.

"Well as much fun as this is, I really must be going. I do have a school to run and all that," Dumbledore said, extracting himself from witnessing the lovers' spat. Depositing a coin purse on the side table, he explained without pausing in his haste to leave, "For your expenditures and to keep you comfortable while we sort out your job predicament. Your housing has already been covered as Miss Evans has graciously agreed to put you up in the spare room of her flat so there's one thing already checked off your list. Have a wonderful time, Miss Lukovë."

"Lily," Remus prompted, halting the mounting tension, "you brought clothes for Hemrione, correct? How about we step outside to allow her some privacy to change? Then after, we can take her to Diagon Alley and Muggle London to start work on getting her properly outfitted." Ushering the others out of the door as Lily dropped a pile of clothes on the spare chair, he hissed, "In the meantime, maybe you two can put a lid on whatever shit is happening in your relationship. The girl just fell eighteen years through time; she doesn't need to be subjected to whatever vapid squabble you two have going on or your territorial pissing."

Turning around as he went to close the door, the stern set of his face softened as Remus looked at her and kindly apologized, "I'm really sorry about them. I promise despite their first impressions, they're wonderful friends to have. Until they show you as such though, hopefully you won't lump me in with them."

"Remus, I was always partial to you. That's not going to change now that we're the same age. Frankly out of everyone Albus could have arranged a playdate for me with, I'm happy you were among the ones he chose. Having you makes seeing them a bit easier to digest."

The pupil of his golden colored eye contracted several times shifting from wolf to human as he studied her face. Finally as it smoothed back out to passing for Heterochromia instead of a Lycanthropy, he surmised, "They don't survive do they?"

Getting up from the bed, she crossed the small room and took the door handle, slowly closing him out as she whispered, "You're the only one," before sinking to cold stone floor and burying her face in her knees as she cried for what she had lost and for what they were going to lose in not even three years.