Hermione Weasley was thankful for the charms on the chair at her desk as she stretched. The arthritis in her bones was generally kept at bay with a potion, but sitting in her office in the Department of Mysteries for hours on end was enough to make her bones start aching again. But Hermione didn't get up to stretch further--she was too involved in the project.

A few months after Ron's death Hermione had left her retirement to do a special project for the Department of Mysteries. They had come to her for her runes expertise, and so she had been deciphering runes for the past year in this job. The latest batch of ancient artifacts were particularly intriguing.

Hermione picked up one of the artifacts that she hadn't started on and started to note the commonly known runes that were visible on it. The rune for 'time' was repeated a number of times. 'Love', 'family' and 'youth' were also prominent ones. As Hermione fell into the groove of deciphering runes her mind started to wander, sparked by those four runes.

Memories of her motherhood came to mind, back when Rose and Hugo were children, instead of the grandparents they themselves were now. Hermione's mind drifted even farther back, to the early years of her marriage, when she and Ron fought as much as they got along. She smiled softly at that. The year and more since Ron had died had been long, and many days she found that she missed the arguments the most. There was no one she could argue with like Ron--Harry, Ginny and many other friends had been known to say that after the defeat of Voldemort, the pair had sometimes argued simply to have an argument.

Her thoughts slipped farther back, to her school days. From the first train ride to the defeat of Voldemort on Hogwarts' front lawn--she reviewed her schooldays with a mixture of nostalgia and longing. She also longed for the impossible—a youth where she had been allowed to be a youth. She loved Harry dearly, but being the best friend to the Boy-Who-Lived did not lend itself to a normal youth.

Hermione's thoughts started to become more and more scattered; she was writing down runes less and less frequently, and without noticing it she started to nod off. Her last thoughts were that it would have been wonderful to have a normal wizarding childhood.

XxXxX

Hermione woke slowly, and in confusion. She should have woken up sitting up, or at most leaning on her desk, holding onto the artifact that she'd been studying. Instead she was laying on her back, looking up at red velvet, holding onto the artifact that she'd been studying. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed Hermione realized where she was—the Gryffindor Girl's dormitory, and therefore dreaming.

Reassured that it was just a dream she decided that there was no harm in her wandering the hallowed halls of her youth. Walking down the stairs she was surprised to see that there was no fire in the grate in the common room, and after she left the common room she noticed that The Fat Lady wasn't in her portrait. Overall her dream of Hogwarts wasn't shaping up to be the cheerful reminiscence that she'd expected.

She continued to wander the hallways, passing classrooms that had held lessons and clubs and three headed dogs. She passed portraits that waved and statues that guarded secret passages. She wandered until she finally came across someone.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in surprise.

“Just looking around,” Hermione said blithely, “I'm surprised you're here, out of everyone who could be. What are you doing here?”

“Some, ah, gardening. I don't believe we've met before, Miss--?”

Hermione looked down at herself, something she hadn't taken the time to do. She was back in her 11-year-old body, dressed in the unadorned Hogwarts uniform that first years wore prior to sorting.

“Miss? Well, I guess I am.”

He chortled at this, “You expected to be a Mr?”

“Oh no,” Hermione explained, “I've just been a Mrs. For so long that being a Miss came as a surprise. I'm Hermione Granger, Headmaster.”

“That's odd, there are no children with that name who were sent letters this year.”

Confused by the odd dream Hermione decided it was time for her to get some answers of her own, “And what year is it?”

Dumbledore looked at her oddly before answering, “It's 1971 child.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, shifting the information through her head. “So that's why you said you were gardening. You're planting the Whomping Willow for Remus Lupin.”

To say that Dumbledore looked gobsmacked would not give his expression descriptive justice.

“How do you know that?” he whispered, paling.

“I think Remus told me while we were at Grimmauld Place.”

“Grimmauld Place, the Black Family residence?” Dumbledore asked. “Child how have I never heard of you before, and yet you know things you shouldn't and have been places that you couldn't have been? For that matter, how are you here, now? And what's that you're holding?”

Hermione looked down at the artifact that she was still clutching, “Oh, this. I was deciphering the runes on it when I fell asleep.”

The Headmaster looked a bit bemused at the child telling him that she knew runes. “And which ones did you identify?” he said, his tone perhaps just a bit patronising.

“Time, love, youth, family, desire, dreams, sleep, trigger... I don't remember seeing sleep or trigger last night.”

Dumbledore reached for the artifact, concerned, “Dear Lord, do you know what this is?”

Hermione blinked. “I'm not supposed to know or try to find out what I'm deciphering runes for. I'm just supposed to do the work I'm told to.”

“But this is the infamous Jera Runestone! It's famous for the magical aura it has, yet no one's ever been able to figure out what magic it is able to do!”

“Jera?” Hermione asked, peering at the small Runestone.

“See, Jera is on this end,” Dumbledore indicated the top, “And Jera Merkstave here,” he pointed to the bottom.

Hermione reached for the stone again, her brain whirling. “Jera being the rune for 'year.' It can be interpreted as a peaceful time or a break in stagnation. It symbolizes the hope for peace and happiness. And represents the life cycle and the pattern of time in the universe. Jera Merkstave, in that context, would represent a break in the pattern, a reversal, or a repetition. Oh I can't wait until I wake up to write this down. If those lousy Unspeakables would only tell me what I was looking at, I'd know how to look at it!”

“You seem so certain that this is a dream Miss Granger, why is that?”

Hermione rolled her eyes--she had never quite gotten over being the bushy haired, bucktoothed know-it-all and the dream made it very easy to slip back into the familiar skin--and spoke, a touch of derision in her tone that would have been familiar to Ron. “Because it's impossible to be in 1971.”

“You hold the Jera Runestone, and you think that is impossible? Think of what the Jera and the Jera Merkstave told you, and think of that again.”

Hermione sat down in the middle of the hallway as the force of that statement hit her. “I'm in 1971? And I'm eleven? That—that's not good.”

“Miss Granger, I think we should continue this discussion in my office.”

XxXxXxX

Dumbledore found himself following the young girl as she led him unerringly to his office location; yet another piece of evidence that pointed to her either actually being from the future, or being one of Tom Riddle's followers in disguise.

“Parsley,” Dumbledore said absently to the gargoyle in front of his office. He made a mental note to change it to rosemary, sage, or thyme later that day once the girl had gone to wherever she needed to go.

Sitting down behind his desk he steepled his fingers and gave the girl one of his patented looks.

He was interrupted before he could say anything by Fawkes.

The firebird flew over to Hermione and started to trill at her happily.

Hermione petted Fawkes with care, speaking to him. “Aren't you pretty today, Fawkes? You're in your prime right now. Oh... I wish I could listen to you sing all day.”

Fawkes preened a bit of Hermione's hair before flying back to his perch. Dumbledore had to admit that that interaction alone proved to be in Hermione's favor; Fawkes couldn't stand being near people who were dark, and had never preened anyone but he himself.

“How do I know that you're really from the future and not someone who is coming into the castle to spy?” Dumbledore decided to be frank with the small, intelligent girl.

“Ask me something about yourself that no one could possibly know,” Hermione said quietly.

Dumbledore wracked his brains for a question that no one could know, and came to rest upon two. Someone could possibly find the answer to one, but not the other. “What is my biggest fear, and who was my first love?”

Hermione looked at him sadly for a moment before speaking, “Your biggest fear is that you're the one that cast the spell that struck Arianna. Your first love was Gellert Grindlewald.”

Dumbledore hissed quietly at her answer. His brother knew about his biggest fear, but not about his love. Dumbledore had kept his sexual preference a close guarded secret. No one outside of Aberforth even knew the first half. The girl appeared to be genuine.

“Oh dear,” Dumbledore said. “What are we going to do with you?”

“What do you mean sir?”

“Well, for starters, you're eleven years old. It's 1971. How old are your parents?”

“Thirteen and eleven,” Hermione said after a moment.

“Also, you seem much more intelligent than an eleven-year-old. How old were you?”

“Older than you sir,” Hermione said with a smile. “And you should know better than to ask a woman her age. Would you dare ask McGonagall how old she is?”

Dumbledore couldn't help but laugh. “I know how old she is, but you're right, if I didn't know I'd never ask. But that doesn't answer the question of what we should do.”

“I think when I was working with the Jera Runestone that I was wishing that I had a chance for a normal, peaceful Hogwarts experience. Maybe that's what I've been sent back for?”

“And that's it?” Dumbledore looked skeptical. “Your being here alone changes the course of history. Surely there must be a reason that you were sent back.”

Hermione just nodded. “I can think of a few. And I think that by attending Hogwarts I'll be able to accomplish them.”

“And where are you to go until then?” Dumbledore asked. After Tom Riddle's experiences in the muggle orphanage he was hesitant to send any child there—even one who was older than himself.

“Can't I just stay here?” Hermione asked, looking hopeful.

“Only the children of Hogwarts staff are allowed to stay at the school when it isn't in session,” Dumbledore explained.

“I don't suppose Professor McGonagall's looking to adopt, is she?” Hermione said half-heartedly.

Dumbledore paused. “That's not that bad of an idea. Is there a reason you said McGonagall specifically?”

Hermione looked startled at the idea that something she suggested in jest might actually be possible. “She was my head of house, and I've always looked up to her, we're very similar in many ways.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore murmured. “That may be the best way.”

Snapping his fingers Dumbledore summoned a house elf. “Would you please go to Minerva and ask her to come to an informal meeting in my office?”

“Yes sirs, Mister Dumblydoor,” the elf said, bowing before disappearing with a loud pop.

XxXxXxX

Hermione sat in silence thinking on her strange situation while they waited for McGonagall. Even in a world filled with magic it was hard to believe that she had been sent back in time. Of course there was plenty of proof of large time jumps—muggles found human evidence in ancient fossils that dated back to the dinosaurs way too often for the magical world to not acknowledge that there was, or would be, a magical means of jumping in time. But to actually have done so floored her.

Hermione was still trying to wrap her mind around that reality when something else astounding happened: Minerva McGonagall walked into the room.

Only, this wasn't the Minerva McGonagall that she remembered at all. The trouble was the fact that wizards and witches tended to retain their youthfulness for longer than muggles, and Minerva McGonagall had not yet lived through one of Voldemort's wars. She was no great beauty, but she was striking, imposing even. The stern lines that Hermione was used to seeing on her face, instead the sternness was all in the eyes. Her smooth skin was pale, and was set off by her dark hair. Dark hair which, free of the bun Hermione was used to seeing, was as unruly as her own.

“A student Headmaster? You should have said so, I wouldn't have left my hair down!” McGonagall started to pat her hair self consciously.

“I don't mind flyaway hair Professor,” Hermione said, indicating her own.

“Yes, but its a matter of respect!”

“Don't worry Professor, I won't lose respect for you because your hair is down,” Hermione said with a grin.

“What is this about Headmaster? She's not one of my Gryffindor's, and school's not in session.”

“Not a Gryffindor yet, at least. But, more importantly, through some very strange circumstances, an orphan.”

Hermione sat quietly as Dumbledore explained the whole situation to McGonagall. “So you're going to be her guardian?” Minerva asked when it was all done.

“Er, no,” Dumbledore shook his head, “I'm a bit old to have a daughter show up out of the blue. And in order for there to not be any questions about how she knows so much about magic, she needs to be adopted by someone who could legitimately have had a daughter eleven years ago.”

“Well, most of the students who are the right age are already in a relationship and have a child Albus, or else are very publicly single and childless. It'd be very difficult for a grown child to just appear.”

“Well, what if she had lived with her Grandfather up until this summer, when he died?” Albus asked delicately.

McGonagall winced at this--her father had just died right at the end of the school year. Then she realized what he meant and she protested with vehemence. “Albus, there's no way! The students would know that I hadn't been pregnant 11 years ago!”

“You know as well as I do that there are charms to hide pregnancy from people.”

“But a father, my reputation!”

“You could say that the father was a foreigner and left you, or died. No one would think any less of you, and might actually think more of you Minerva.”

“Why me?” Minerva sat down in a chair at last, having stood up the whole time. She was uncharacteristically slouched.

“Look at her Minerva,” Dumbledore said with a small smile, “She looks like a younger you with lighter hair. And she acts like you too.”

Hermione could only nod, it was true, she'd been compared to McGonagall more times in her life than she cared to count, although she'd never known until now how much she looked like a young McGonagall.

“And you've always wanted a daughter like yourself, Minnie,” Dumbledore said softly.

The silence stretched for a few moments before Minerva finally spoke. “How do we do this then? Shouldn't there be some record of her, somewhere?”

“I can take care of that. It'll be easy for me to slip into the Wizengamot and slip some papers into the right file. I'll date them back correctly, and if anyone asks I can say that I put them in there ages ago, but didn't advertise the fact because I was protecting one of my professors. Now let's see, where did I put it...”

Dumbledore rummaged around his desk and finally found a blank envelope that appeared to be prefilled. He set a quill on top of it, pointed his wand and watched it write on its own.

Hermione McGonagall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

Hermione found it odd to see her name as Hermione McGonagall, but before that could sink in, she thought of something. “Headmaster, Professor, I don't have anything with me but these clothes, and I have no money with me. I don't want to be a burden...”

“Hermione, I'm your mother now, not a Professor,” McGonagall said, although she still used her Professor tone of voice. “You can call me Mother. Or,” she hesitated, but gathered up the courage. “Or Mum. And it's a parent's job to take care of a child, and that includes financially.”

“Plus,” Dumbledore said. “The Jera Runestone has been missing for some time, and there is a large finders fee for it. If you give it to Minerva she can turn it in and receive the fee. Would that make you feel better?”

“It would,” Hermione said, nodding. With that Dumbledore shooed the two of them out the door to get better acquainted while he had the House elves communicate with the castle to add a bedroom into the McGonagalls' living quarters. Things were looking interesting for the Headmaster. He knew that there'd be many more conversations with the woman-turned-girl. He couldn't wait to hear about her former future, although he knew that it was already irrevocably changed.

XxXxXxX

The finders fee for the Jera Runestone was high enough that Minerva and Hermione were astounded. Hermione was able to go to Diagon Alley guilt free and get a full set of robes and casual clothes, a trunk, wand, potions set, more books than she and her mother could carry, and an owl she fondly named Pig.

Back at Hogwarts Hermione spent her summer getting to know her new mother, learning about the current wizarding world, exploring the castle and planning to make a certain map a bit ahead of schedule.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were amazed at how much more childlike Hermione grew each day. She remained as intelligent as she ever was, but as she concentreted on learning about 'today' she began to forget about 'tomorrow.' She still knew what the future might hold, but she didn't actively think about it most of the time. By the time September first came around Hermione appeared to be somewhat more mature and intelligent than other witches her age, but no more, and it could easily be explained by the fact that she was the daughter of Professor Minerva McGonagall.

Said Deputy Headmistress was too busy with preparing for the day, so Hermione did not end up going to King's Cross Station to ride the Hogwarts Express. On the train James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew met and rode together in one compartment. In another compartment Lily Evans and Severus Snape already knew each other and rode together.

Back at Hogwarts Hermione was too excited to sit still and read, so she helped Flitwick to decorate the Great Hall. Had Ron and Harry been able to see this Hermione, they would have remembered Hermione, so young and eager for knowledge. Even though Hermione technically knew the spells Flitwick was using, she acted in a way they would have remembered--so young and eager for knowledge.

When word of the train's arrival reached the castle Hermione went to a small room as instructed and watched through the crack for the group of incoming first years. Hermione slipped into the back of the crowd of first years once they were assembled, and was surprised to see that it was a bit larger than her class in the nineties.

After a few moments of students worriedly discussing how they were sorted, McGonagall arrived to lead them into the Great Hall. Hermione enjoyed watching the faces of the other first years as they saw the ceiling. It was with slight difficulty that she prevented herself from repeating the same thing she had her first time there. Those that saw her only saw a smile that seemed far too old for her age, before the smile turned into nervousness as the Hat began to sing and then as students started to be sorted.

Hermione watched as first Sirius Black, then Lily Evans, and Remus Lupin were sorted into Gryffindor amidst other students. Finally it was her turn.

Her face betraying no emotion, McGonagall called out, “Hermione McGonagall.” The murmurs started amongst the seated students immediately. Hermione ignored them and stepped forward to put on the hat.

What's this? You remember being sorted before, but I've never sorted you. The Hat thought at her.

An accident with time travel, Hermione thought back.

I see. Well, you've more than proved that you belong in Gryffindor so—

Wait! Hermione thought loudly, interupting the Hat before it could yell.

You don't want Gryffindor?

No, I do, Hermione reassured, But I need to ask for a favor.

A favor child? What could a hat do for you?

Sort Peter Pettigrew into Hufflepuff and Severus Snape into Gryffindor. And with that Hermione started to project her memories of Snape's bravery and Pettigrew's betrayals.

I see why you think that Snape would work well in Gryffindor, but why Hufflepuff for Pettigrew instead of Slytherin?

I think that in Hufflepuff he may have a chance at making real friends and learning loyalty. He didn't start out bad, it was his never completely fitting in with his friends and his fear that pushed him to the dark side. Maybe if he made different friends he'd have a chance.

Very well, the Hat thought before yelling, “Gryffindor!”

Hermione smiled up at McGonagall as she removed the hat before trotting off to the Gryffindor Table. She slipped into a seat next to Lily and across from Sirius.

“Hi, I'm Hermione!” She said cheerfully, glad that she'd fulfilled the only real plan she'd so far had for changing the future.

“I'm Lily.”

“Remus.”

“Sirius.”

Hermione nodded and turned back to the sorting. Soon enough, Peter was a Hufflepuff, and James and Severus were Gryffindors. Severus sat down on the other side of Lily, and James ended up in the only empty seat left; directly across from Snape. Hermione was annoyed to see James already sneering at Snape, but before she could say or do anything she was surprised by someone else.

“You're Eileen Prince's kid, right?” Sirius asked.

Snape immediately started to bristle--it was only with a touch from Lily that he was able to civilly answer. “Yeah, so?”

“My mother hates your mum and you,” Sirius said, displaying a complete obliviousness that Hermione gave a mental sigh at and nearly had Snape reaching across the table to punch Sirius. Never knowing how close he'd come to getting his nose smashed in, Sirius' next words saved his butt. “But I can't stand my mum, so I guess that makes you okay in my book. I'm Sirius Black, the newest White Sheep of the Black Family.”

Snape ended up shaking Sirius' hand while looking stunned. James still didn't look too happy, Lily looked amused, and Remus seemed withdrawn.

“Why was everyone so surprised when your name was called anyways?” James suddenly asked, looking at Hermione with a trace of dislike. “What are you, famous?”

Hermione was irritated by his tone, but tried to keep her cool, “I guess they didn't know that my mum had any children. I lived with my Grandda until he died this summer, so they never saw me with her.”

“Oh, so it's your mum who's famous?” James sneered, his tone of voice only getting worse.

“My mum's a professor here. What's your problem anyway?” Hermione snapped at him.

“You think you're so special, being recognized by everyone, and then you come an try to steal my friends!” He indicated Remus and Sirius, who were looking at him like he had lost it.

Hermione glared at James and noticed that Lily and Snape glared at him too. “I wasn't trying to steal anyone. But if being their friends means that I have to put up with you then I'll find other friends.”

“Me too,” Lily said, and Snape nodded beside her. Hermione turned to them and stuck up a conversation, ignoring the boys on the other side of the table.

XxXxXxX

Things quickly fell into place after that. Hermione found herself becoming close friend with Lily and Severus. Classes were easy for her, but were almost as easy for Lily and Severus. Hermione enjoyed being friends with people who enjoyed learning as much as she did. Remus would sometimes study with them too,and all four of them got along.

In spite of his hospitality towards Snape, Sirius stood firmly by James in one thing: the opposition of their two groups. James and Hermione had arguments at least daily, often multiple times a day, until, finally, the boys who would become known as the Marauders turned to pranking.

“Finally!” Hermione said, sitting down next to Lily with a stack of notebooks.

“You're glad they turned your hair blue and bronze?” Severus quirked an eyebrow at her, his look clearly stating that she was insane.

“No, I'm that they finally started to use pranks. They don't stand a chance against us with the stuff I have in these books.”

Severus picked up one of the notebooks and started to flip through it. “These formulas...the way it melds potions, transfiguration, and charms, it's genius! Did you work these out?”

“No, a distant relative did,” Hermione fudged. Fred and George were distant relatives alright. In the distant future they would have been her brothers-in-law.

“These potions will take a good amount of time,” Lily said, peering over Severus' shoulder to see what he was looking at. “What are you going to do to get back at them until then?”

Hermione made a face, “Yell at them, pretend to be frustrated, and lull them into a sense of false security. Also give them time to build up their reputations as pranksters so that if we pull pranks on people besides them, they'll be the ones to get blamed.

Severus blinked at Hermione for a moment, “You should have been a Slytherin.”

Hermione ignored the comment. “Anyways, the potions don't take too much effort or attention, so I have a couple other ideas.”

“What are they?” Lily asked, looking intrigued.

“Well, the first one is a map of Hogwarts where you can see where everyone is. If we want to pull pranks on them without being seen we'll have to be able to get in and out of places without being noticed, and it's not like we have an invisibility cloak or anything.” Hermione scowled at the thought of James having the invisibility cloak, but didn't say anything about it. “The other thing is... I've decided to become an animagus. Do you two want to do it too?”

Severus and Lily stared at Hermione for a few moments. Snape spoke first, “You know, when I met you I didn't think you were really the rule breaking sort.”

“Well, we are Gryffindors for a reason, and I'll do anything to get that annoying Potter. Plus, I'm bored,” Hemione explained. “And it's not like we'd be Animagus overnight. It's a lot of research first.”

“Aren't most of the books in the Restricted Section? How do we go and get a pass for them?” Lily asked.

“Mum owns her own copy of all of them, and some that aren't even in the Library. I'll find a way to get them.”

“I'm game. I wonder what my form would be?”

“I guess I'm in too,” Severus said wearily. Hermione grinned. Yes, Hogwarts this time around would be fun.