Author's Note:
Here we are with another chapter completed ahead of schedule and therefore another chapter posted ahead of schedule. I hope y'all enjoy and just a bit of warning, Severus won't be appearing again for several chapters. Cue the sad faces. He does however make quite the entrance when he does.

Chapter Four

January 1979

Waking up from having lost consciousness was nothing like waking up from sleep. It wasn't a drawn out process meant to ease one into the start of their day. There was no burrowing deeper into the warm sheets or pulling the duvet closer as you hovered between two states of being. Waking up from having passed out was like having a bucket of ice dumped overhead. One second Hermione was blissfully ignorant of the world around her and the next, she was shooting up from where she had been laid out, a disorienting headache crashing against her skull as her stomach revolted for the second time that day.

Turning to her side, what remained of her stomach contents spewed out with a strangled cough, vanishing before it could soil the stone floors. She gagged and coughed several more times, drool spilling out of the corners of her mouth as she slowly sat up and wiped her lips with the heel of her hand. If her vomit's disappearing act hadn't been enough of a clue, the privacy screens that surrounded her and the firm bed wrapped in stiff sheets beneath her, told her she was in the school's infirmary.

Easing her feet over the side of the bed, she reached out to grip the end table and slowly stand up. But no matter how cautiously she moved, her spinning headache returned and her overstimulated senses waged a mutiny she wasn't ready to battle. The rays of sunlight pouring in through the windows was too bright, further exacerbating her headache as she squinted against the assault and the sounds of a murmured conversation may as well have been a post quidditch win rager in the Gryffindor common room for how loud even her own breathing sounded to her.

"Out of my way, she's awake," the unmistakable voice of Madame Pomfrey ordered, a moment before ripping back the partition.

"Miss, Granger is it?"

"Yes," she and Regulus both responded, making her head jerk up as she stared at him.

"I don't recall giving you my name, Regulus."

"And I don't recall giving you leave to address me so informally, yet here we are," he smiled.

"Enough!" The hospital matron snapped, ending their stare off. "Back in bed, dear. Come on, that's it. You're still quite unstable, so it's best you stay off your feet until I can properly treat you."

"We should move her to a private room, Albus. The students, the staff, will talk if anyone sees her," the familiar and comforting voice of Professor McGongall advised, as she bustled into place around Hermione's bed.

Looking at the two professors and the school's healer who were all three significantly younger than she had recalled them being that morning, as well as at Regulus who stood forgotten in a corner silently observing and very much alive, she confirmed, "So it wasn't a hallucination. Theo really fucking did this. And believe me professor-" she continued at the sharp intake of breath and stern look her head of house gave her, "- the language is very much necessary."

Snorting from the corner, Regulus said, "Oh you're going to be a peach. I cannot wait for this."

"Mister Black, I thank you kindly for your continued show of model behavior as Head Boy, but your presence is no longer required," Dumbledore dismissed without so much as looking in the Slytherin's direction.

Making a face at the back of his head that had Hermione pressing a hand over her mouth to smother her reluctant giggle, he stepped around Madame Pomfrey and leaned close to her, whispering, "Take care of yourself, little pen. It'll be a few days, maybe a week or two, before he comes to do it for you."

Pulling back from him, she questioned, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Secrets, my pet. Secrets," he teased, ready to slip out.

"Wait!"

"Miss Granger, he really shouldn't be here for this," McGonagall said. "It's enough that he found you."

"Found me? He was waiting for me. Regulus was there when I appeared."

"Shit," he breathed, turning back around with a foul curl of his lip before it smoothed out.

"It seems as if there's a discrepancy in your stories," Dumbledore observed, finally looking at Sirius's brother. "Miss Granger, if you could please tell us, to the best of your recollection, the series of events that brought you here. It's well established you know who each of us are, but I must confess, I've never seen you before and I can recall every student I have ever taught or presided over as Headmaster."

"That's because - what is this?" She asked, taking the potion vial Madame Pomfrey was handing her and examining its color and viscosity in the light before removing the cork to sniff it.

"Pure aconite," she quipped. "It's a calming draught. The color is different because these are brewed for longer shelf life. I unfortunately no longer have someone willing to brew for me so I have to stock the shelves with premade potions instead of the fresh ones I was spoiled with the last two and a half years. Now drink.

"Merlin, she reminds me of Severus. Always questioning my potions and acting as though I'm trying to poison the students with them. Never mind the fact he spent more time here in these beds than any other student I've had thus far. Excusing your brother and his little gang of friends that is."

Looking at Hermione with curious interest, she asked, "You're not by chance extradorily gifted with brewing too are you?"

"I manage but no."

"Pity. Albus, Horace is planning to retire within the next few years, I want, no, I need, a Potions Master who is willing to brew for me. Make it a job requirement."

"Of course, Poppy," he answered, with a shake of his head as she hustled around the bed, casting diagnostics. "Now then, Miss Granger, you were saying."

"I was brought here by this," she said, patting her chest in search of the Time Turner as she realized it was no longer in her hand. Not finding it there either, she frantically ran her hands down her body before hoping out of the bed. "Where is it?" She panicked, grabbing her bag from the table, turning it upside down and shaking everything out of the main compartment. "I need it, where'd it go?" Then looking up at Regulus, she accused, "You! What did you do with it? Give it to me, right now!"

"I don't think so. See this," he taunted, producing the brass Time Turner from his pocket, letting the pendant dangle from his palm by several inches of chain, "belongs to the Blacks. You're not getting it back."

"No, it belongs to Theodore Nott," she retorted, lunging at him to try and snatch it back.

Snapping it out of her reach as her fingers grazed it, he smirked in a way that somehow managed to make him look even more like Sirius and further annoyed her by saying, "Watch it. Us Blacks are jealous and possessive men. Sounding like that when you talk about the wee babe is going to get you into trouble."

"You infuriating, inbred, narrow minded, blood purest, arsehole!" Hermione yelled, jumping up to grab it as he dangled it over her head.

"Here kitty kitty."

"Both of you, cease this foolishness at once!" McGonagall yelled, flicking her wand to forcibly separate them. "Mister Black, you will hand that over to Professor Dumbledore, now. Miss Granger, get back in bed. And the both of you, try and have some semblance of decorum. You are young adults nearly ready to be thrust upon the world, not a babbling, bumbling, band of baboons. Act like it."

Thoroughly chastised, Hermione slunk back to the bed and heaved herself up onto the mattress, all while glaring at Regulus. Slapping the thin blanket into place around her, she crossed her arms, and turned her attention back to Professor Dumbledore. Watching him examine the device that had brought her to whenever she was, she took notice of its additional ring and hourglass.

"This is quite the peculiar device, Mister Black. And you say this is a family heirloom?"

"Yes, sir. If you notice, the middle ring - traditionally the outer ring on standard Turners - is engraved with a star map instead of Egyptian or Aztec Runes. Castor Black who helped develop the one you are familiar with, continued tinkering with time until he developed the one you have there. In theory, that third dial can take the wearer back to when they came from."

"So you're saying I can go home?" Hermione interrupted, hope swelling in her chest.

"I said, 'in theory.' In practice, great, great whatever Uncle Castor never succeeded. So love to be the bearer of bad news and all that-"

"It's hate."

"No sweetheart, in this case, I love to be the bearer. And the news is, you're stuck here, so I hope you packed more than books in that bag of yours."

Her new old friend, crippling anxiety, greeted her once more as she looked between her professors and whispered, "What am I supposed to do? I don't belong here. I belong in '97."

"Oh goodness, you've come a long way," McGonagall needlessly commented as she sat on the edge of the bed, patting Hermione's hand that fisted the blanket in an effort to hide her trembling.

"I have to finish my schooling… Harry needs me now more than ever… my parents, what about my parents? What are you going to tell them, Headmaster? Everyone will think I've vanished and Theo will be blamed for it. I mean it is his fault but… Oh my God this can't be happening to me. Please, you're Albus Dumbledore. You have to be able to do something or know someone who can."

Giving her a regretful look, he gave her an answer she already knew but didn't want to accept.

"If there was no way to go forward in your time, it is certain there isn't one currently. However, I will reach out to those I know who possess far more knowledge on the subject than I and see what they say."

Putting her hands to her cheeks, she looked down at her lap and furiously blinked her stinging eyes. For whatever reason, Theo had sent her hurtling back through time with no way forward. She was stuck. Trapped in a time where her friends didn't exist, where she was but a small thought in her hopeful parents' minds. She hardly knew anyone apart from the professors who stood before her and the matron of the hospital wing. The rest a scant few months older than she herself currently was or living ghosts like Regulus. She had no one. She was alone, truly alone.

Attacking the tear that dared to fall, she sniffled and looked up, meeting the sympathetic eyes of McGonagall and Dumbledore.

"And until then? What am I to do?"

"We can enroll you in whatever classes you were taking as a ward of the school. That way you can continue your education as uninterrupted as possible. In time you'll adjust and hopefully find a place for yourself here in 1979."

Perking up, Hermione latched on to finally having a concrete idea of when exactly she was in the past and repeated, "1979? The year is 1979?"

"Yes, the ninth of January 1979," he confirmed.

"Then I can't enroll in the school. I'll find a job, something no one will question my lack of NEWTs over and I'll join the Order. You're going to need me. If I'm stuck here and can't go back, then I'm an invaluable asset to you."

"Be that as it may," he said, raising his hand to slow down her frantic train of thought, "but as you arrived here wearing a Hogwarts uniform, it can be assumed that you are currently a student and as such, must remain one."

"No, no I don't have to. Just hold on," she hurried, scrambling to grab her wand.

Dragging her knapsack through the mess that was her emptied out bag, Hermione began lifting the charms she had placed around the front pocket. When she removed the last one, she tugged at the brass buckle, ripping the leather belt free, and snatched the envelope the Dumbledore of her time had given her.

"Here," she said, eagerly shoving it into his hands. "You gave this to me just this morning. Inside you'll find an age map that's signed by Professor McGonagall and yourself, showing me to be well above the age of a sixth year. You put several other sheets of parchment in it but you said, 'you are still a student but if you choose, this will grant you an avenue around such debates when that moment occurs, should you choose to use it.' Well I'm using it.

"You knew this was going to happen. Time is but a loop of events. Though I was manipulated to come back here, it was meant to happen. Nothing in the past can be changed or meddled with. I distinctly remember that from my third year. Events always unfold as they originally did, the person traveling through time just sees it or participates in it from a different perspective.

"You'll see on the age map that I've already sat through all my classes at a NEWT level once before. I don't need to do it again. I may not have scores but I can work around that. I'm sure of it."

Finally quieting as Dumbledore read through the pages of parchment, handing each one to McGonagall as he finished, Hermione sat back on the bed, her knee bouncing. She had to accept that she couldn't go back to 1997. That part of her life had ended the moment she had caught the Time Turner. However if she readily let go of what could have been, she could become an effective tool for Dumbledore and the Order in '79.

Changing the history she knew was impossible, but manipulating the events was not. No one but those who had been here were privy to the details of what truly transpired. Sirius's wrongful imprisonment was proof of that. If she became an active participant in creating her history, then she could manipulate what she knew to be fact, and if she did that, there would be a chance that in eighteen years when she finally saw Harry again, that she could offer him something they previously thought lost to him.

"It appears you were not only very liberal with your use of the Time Turner but that I find you exceptionally talented and more than ready to enter the fray of war. With your advanced age in regards to being a student, the scores of your OWLs, and current standing in your NEWT levels, I see no reason to further suggest the topic of you enrolling in school should you truly wish to terminate your education."

Hearing it in such a way, gave Hermione pause. Could she terminate her education? The advancement of her mind and learning all she could about magic had always been her top priority. She valued her gift and education above all else. It was sacred to her and for more than just the unfortunate, cruel existence she would be forced to live if she had been expelled as a muggleborn. It was who she was, as much a part of what made her her as any physical feature or personality trait. The summers and holidays spent without accessing her magic, left her feeling as though she had a phantom limb. She wasn't complete without it and while she wouldn't be forced to give it up, could she relinquish her academic goals?

Chewing on her lip, she nodded and shrugged at her own silent questions, coming to a decision. With the way things had been going as of that morning, she was already prepared to make a run for it with Harry should the worst come to pass. It hadn't even been a question in her mind. Where he went, she went. Over the cliff the both of them. If she could so easily let it all go then, she could and would do it now.

Meeting Dumbledore's blue, not yet spectacle covered eyes, she planned with conviction, "We should tell them I'm from Durmstrang since no one knows the precise location. I have a friend who went to school there, so I know enough to make it plausible since they treat admittance like a secret society. And as long as you don't have any Order members or contacts who speak Russian, the little bit of Bulgarian I know and nonexistent Russian won't be a problem. It'll also solve it currently being open season on muggleborns. Or has that not happened just yet?"

"But what of Mister Black?" McGonagall reminded, her face paling at the small glimpse of their quickly coming future as she glanced wearily at the Slytherin, refolding the papers Hermione had arrived with.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Regulus magnanimously said, "Her secret is safe with me," only to strike with an added, "so long as the little pen here promises to owe me a favor down the road."

"Don't call me that."

"But that's what you are, my sweet witch. A cob's pure little pen."

Making a ruling, Dumbledore said, "If she agrees, there will be limitations set in place, Mister Black. This will not be a limitless exchange. Otherwise we can settle this with different, less civil, methods."

"Of course not. Wouldn't want to end up like my brother, now would I?" He replied, his charismatic if annoying demeanor vanishing as his eyes turned cold and calculating, unsettling her at how well he could bend a person's perception of him.

This was the face of the heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Black. Whoever he had been while taunting and teasing her, looking for all the world like his older brother, this conniving person before her was not him. Regulus was a Sacred heir, a Marked, or soon to be, Death Eater, and she was everything he and his family abhorred.

Not entirely wanting to commit to the bargain but knowing she had no choice, she hesitantly asked, "What do you want with me?"

"I haven't entirely decided yet. But don't worry pet, you're as protected as they come. I wouldn't dream of hurting you. We're going to mean far too much to each other before long for that to ever happen."

Chewing on the inside of her lip as she wrestled with the potentially stupid decision she was making, Hermione extended her hand in offering.

" One favor to be done without question but it must be within the boundaries of whatever terms you hash out with the Headmaster."

Taking her hand, he brushed his lips across her knuckles and gave her a smile that could have melted knickers if not for the ruthless, predatory glint in his grey eyes, as he said, "Then we have an accord. Your secret is safe with me and you owe me a favor of my choosing. It's been a pleasure, little love." Collecting his family's Time Turner, he went to slip out of the partitions but not before he pinned her with the same soul searing look Theo had given her a thousand times before, saying, "When you meet my brother, go for the knee."

"What?"

"I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Hermione. Take care."

Shaking off the unnerved feeling she knew Theo to give others, she looked at Dumbledore and asked, "So what do we do first?"