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A/N:  Here goes chapter two!  Thanks to all you who have read and favorited!  I am so happy you all seem to like it!There is a variation on a quote from a comedy movie in this chapter!  Who can find it?  Whoever IDs the quote, and tells me which movie its from first will get a shoutout in the next chapter!

September 3, err…I still don’t know what year it is…

            For some reason, all of my stuff is here with me, in the future.  Professor McGonagall, when I went to speak to her this morning, said that it must have been Dumbledore’s doing.  She also says that I cannot go back to the past.  We tried once and it didn’t work.  She said I must be here for a reason, and we cannot fight fate.  There is one other thing, something that made me cry for a good three hours after I got back from my meeting with McGonagall.  She is the Headmistress.  I am happy for her, but that means…you know, that Dumbledore isn’t the Headmaster.  He would never just resign from his post.  Something must have happened.  I will explain how I found out about all of this, but I am going to start with where I left off: running into those kids.

            I looked at the boy who had spoken.  He was a perfect replica of Harry.  If I hadn’t known that I was in the future, I would have thought it might have been him.  He had the same messy hair, and he had Lily’s eyes, just like Harry did.  “No, he doesn’t know me,” I said.  “Sorry.  I just transferred in here.  I’m still, er—getting my bearings.”

            The frown lines smoothed out of the boys’ faces.  However, the girl with them was still scowling, and had her arms folded and her hip pushed out to the side.  She was certainly not happy to see me.  She had been the first one that I heard talking.  She smirked at me.  “Oh, I can tell,” she spat.  “Walking around like a lunatic with your head in the clouds, running into people who are trying to use these corridors to walk in.”

            My temper flared.  “Who do you think you are?” I asked defensively.  The boys weren’t saying anything, but were standing awkwardly as if they were used to this type of behavior from her.

            “You are asking who I am.”  She didn’t ask it as a question, but as an incredulous statement.  She stared at me, and flipped her hair over her shoulder.  It was only then that I realized it was thick, long and red.  Weasley red.

            “Ron?”  I whispered.  Ron had helped make this?

            She hadn’t heard me, thankfully.  “I’m Rose,” she said primly.  “Weasley.”

            I raised my eyebrow.  “Oh, aren’t you special then?”  I asked sarcastically.

            Draco—er, Scorpius—burst out laughing at that statement.  It made me glow warm.  “You’re okay,” he said to me.  “Ignore her; she has a perpetual bug up her arse.”  Rose shot him a glare that could kill.  “What’s your name?”

            “Hermione,” I said without thinking. 

            Scorpius’ mouth fell open, as did the Harry-look-alike’s.  Rose just pushed her lips into a tight line and glared at me harder.  “Whoa, she has the same name as your mom, Rose!  Weird, because it’s kind of an unusual name…”

            I think I had a heart attack at that moment.  Scorpius was Draco’s kid.  The Harry-look-alike was obviously Harry’s kid.  Rose’s father was Ron and her mother’s name was Hermione.  I am the only Hermione.  That means that I gave birth to Rose.  She is my child.  Mine and Ron’s.  Ew, I procreated with RON!?!  No wonder McGonagall said that the people around the corner would give me quite a shock!  But unless I played it cool, things could get very ugly.  I could cry about it all later.

            “How great for me,” Rose said sarcastically.

            The Harry-look-alike shook his head.  “Excuse my unbelievably rude cousin,” he started.  Cousin?  I had no siblings, so that must mean that Harry married one of Ron’s siblings.  And unless Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had another daughter I didn’t know about, that sibling was Ginny.  That made me proud.  She finally won over Harry.  “My name is Albus Potter,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders.  “So what House are you in Hermione?”

            I paused.  McGonagall hadn’t mentioned what House I was supposed to be in, but I figured it had to be the same one.  “Gryffindor,” I answered strongly.

            His face lit up.  “Awesome, that is my House too!  We were just heading up there.  Want to come?”  I nodded.  We began to walk, Scorpius and Rose whispering heatedly behind our backs.  “So what year are you in?  You’re obviously not a first year, so why haven’t we seen you around?”

            Time to put my fake-life story into practice: “My parents did missionary work in India, so they homeschooled me there.”  I tried to make my voice tremble.  “But they died last summer in an accident.  So I moved back to Britain so I could attend Hogwarts.  I’m a third year.”

            Albus looked shocked.  “I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely.  “That is awful.  I know a little bit about death too, though I’ve never seen it in action really.  My father was in the Second Wizarding War, and he makes sure I don’t take death lightly.”

            I nodded.  I was finding out things about the future that I had no business knowing.  There was a war.  Harry lived through it and had a child, which must mean he beat Voldemort somehow.  “It’s fine,” I said.  “I’m managing.”

            Albus was silent for a moment.  “I’m a third year too, as are Scorpius and Rose.”  He waited.  “That means you get to share a dormitory with her.”  I looked up at Albus, panicked.  He smiled at my expression.  “She’s harmless really.  She just gets touchy when Scorpius pays attention to people who aren’t herself.”

            “Oh,” I said disappointed.  Maybe Rose isn’t that different from me after all—falling for a Malfoy.  “Are Rose and Scorpius together?  I thought she said—”

            “They aren’t officially together.  But it’s only a matter of time, and everyone knows it.  Rose gets really possessive of him because of that.  Since they aren’t ‘together’ together, I think she imagines that he could leave her…as if.” 

            Just then, Scorpius ran to catch up with the two of us.  “Hey don’t hog the new girl,” he teased, removing Albus’ arm, which I had not noticed still hung around my shoulder.  “So, new kid, are you excited about sharing a room with Rose?”  He rolled his eyes.  “Just to warn you: she has thorns, and they’re fatal.  In case you hadn’t already figured that out.”

            “I had, thanks,” I answered.  It seemed like Rose’s temper was a running joke around here.  I started, remembering something.  “Er, aren’t we going to the Common Rooms?”  Albus nodded.  “Do they allow other Houses into the Gryffindor Common Room these days?”

            Albus looked puzzled.  “Uh, no…”

            I turned to Scorpius, confused.  “Then why are you here?”  I asked matter-of-factly.  “Shouldn’t you be heading to the Slytherin Commons?”

            Scorpius and Albus just stared at me blankly for a second.  Then, at the same time, they burst into raucous laughter.  I blushed.  What was so funny? 

            “I’m…not…in…Slytherin!”  Scorpius gasped though his laughter.  He tried wiping the tears out of his eyes, but was interrupted by more laughter.  I was mortified.  I had assumed he would be in that House because all the Malfoys’ had been, but I should have known better.  After all, apparently that murderer Sirius Black had been in Gryffindor, even though his whole family had been Slytherins.

            “I’m so sorry!”  I said.  “I didn’t mean to assume, I just thought that—“

            “You thought that since I was obviously a Malfoy, I would be in Slytherin like the rest of them,” he said happily, getting his laughter under control.  “Don’t sweat it, it happens all the time.”  He went on walking as if that extremely awkward situation had not just occurred.  I followed silently with Albus, because I certainly was not going to reopen that discussion.  Rose trailed us, sulking.  I shook my head.  I would say that that girl’s parents ought to slap some manners into her, but, oh yeah, that parent would be me.  How did I let that happen?  It seems ridiculous.

            We got the Portrait of the Fat Lady, which looked exactly the same.  “Password?”  She asked regally.

            Rose stepped forward imperiously.  “Lemon Tart,” she said matter-of-factly, smugly proud of her knowledge of the password.

            I was shocked at the password.  What happened to the old style of password?  Albus saw my face and laughed.  “My father made that same face when he first heard that all of our passwords were named after sweets.  Apparently, in his day they were much different.  I asked McGonagall about it once, and she said that the change in password style is in remembrance of the late Headmaster Dumbledore.  This was his House when he was a student, you know.”

            I felt tears prick in my eyes.  So he had died then.  I wanted to know how, but I would never ask.  I shouldn’t get too inquisitive about the future.  It would only end in disaster.  We entered the Common Room, and I saw that everything was exactly as it had been the last time I was there—which was technically dozens of years ago.  Albus walked in and plopped down in the exact same chair that Harry always sat in.  Rose huffed off in the direction of the dormitories, and I sat carefully on the chair I had always occupied. 

            “Better watch out,” Albus said playfully.  “If Rose comes down and sees you in her chair, she might eat your brains out while you sleep.”

            I laughed nervously.  I hoped that was a joke.  “Aw, don’t get up Hermione,” pleaded Scorpius, stretching his catlike frame (so similar to Draco’s) out on the couch.  “About time someone stuck it to her.  I swear, Rose is wound so tight that if you shoved a piece of coal up her arse in the morning, it would’ve become a diamond by the afternoon.”  He smiled at me, inviting me to share his joke.  His smile was infectious, and soon it was mirrored on my own face.  “That’s more like it,” he said warmly.

            I settled back against the couch.  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.  It was almost like hanging out with Harry and Ron except instead of Ron being an arrogant toe rag; he was a sweetie who looked exactly like my secret boyfriend.  Not bad at all…

            I fell asleep for a while, and I woke up to a hand on my shoulder.  I opened my eyes and saw Draco.  A lazy smile lit my face.  “Oh Draco,” I said touching his face.  “I just had the weirdest dream.”  Draco looked at me strangely for a moment, and slowly reality came back to me.  “Oh God,” I moaned.

            “Why do you keep calling me that?”  Scorpius asked, looking at me uncertainly.  “It’s kind of creepy that you know my dad.”

            “I don’t,” I insisted. 

            He shook his head.  “Whatever,” he whispered.  “Listen it’s really late, and for some reason, the House Elves won’t come in to clean with us here.”

            I turned my bleary eyes over the other chair, where Albus was snoring like a lumberjack.  “What about Har—Albus?” 

            Scorpius shrugged.  “I was more focused on you,” he said frankly.  “Do you need help up?”  I shook my head, and burrowed farther into the puffy chair.  “Oi, girls will be the death of me,” I heard him mumble.  I felt an arm slither behind my back and under the crook of my knees, and suddenly I was in the air. 

“What’s going on?”

            “I’m carrying you to bed,” he told me.  “You don’t even know who I am and you sound like a crazy person, so no way can you make it up all these stairs.”

            I let my arms wind around his neck, and I relaxed into his strong grip.  “Okay,” I mumbled.  I leaned my head down onto his shoulder, barely awake.

            I vaguely remember him lowering me into my bed, and pulling my blankets over me.  I wasn’t with it enough to wonder how he got up to the girls dormitory in the first place.  I also vaguely remember something else.  I remember him standing in the doorway for an indefinite period of time.  Then he walked back over to me, still on the bed.  I think he thought I was sleeping. 

            I felt his cool fingers brush the hair off of my forehead.  “Goodnight,” he whispered.  I felt him press his lips against my forehead, but I must have fallen asleep right after that, because that is all I remember.

            When I woke up I felt refreshed, almost as if none of it had happened.  That thought was soon banished when I looked over, and instead of seeing Lavender in the adjacent bed, I saw the red hair that must mean Rose Weasley.  I looked outside to see the sun fairly high in the sky.  It was Sunday, so no one would have to go to classes, but I had to get to Professor McGonagall. 

            The Common Room was also deserted, so I made my way through with no encounters.  I began to walk toward the office for the Transfiguration teacher before I realized that they must have a new one by now.  McGonagall had been Deputy Headmistress, so after Dumbledore’s death, she probably took up the position of Headmistress.  I wondered who the new Transfiguration teacher was.

            So instead, I began to walk toward the stone gargoyle that marked the Headmasters office.  I paused outside of it, wondering what the password was.  It turned out that I didn’t need one, because the staircase began to move itself.  I quickly hopped on, so I wouldn’t get left behind.  On the stairs, I felt something brush against my leg.  I looked down to see an old tabby.  She looked up at me with wise eyes with spectacle markings around them.

            I smiled.  “Hello, Professor,” I said respectfully.  “Or, Headmistress, rather.”  If I hadn’t known a cat could not smile, I would have sworn she just did.  The stairs stopped, and McGonagall pranced out, turning back into the woman I knew as she did so.

            “I do so enjoy walking about the school as a cat,” she said, smiling.  “It helps me get to know the students.  Whenever my human self walks by, they get all proper and uptight.”  She smiled again.  “So, I take it you’ve met them all?”  I nodded.  “And what have you figured out about their…lineage?”

            “I deduced that Albus is Harry and Ginny’s son.  Scorpius is Draco’s son.  And Rose’s parents are Ron and…me,” I flushed and looked down embarrassed.

McGonagall nodded.  “You’ve gathered a lot I see.  There are a few others, as you will come to see.  I may as well tell them to you before you are surprised.  Ronald’s brother Bill married a half-veela named Fleur, and they had a daughter names Victoire, a seventh year; Dominique, a fifth year; and Louis, a first year.  Harry has two more children, Lily, who is a first year, and his oldest son, James, who is currently a fifth year.  Also, you and Ronald have one other child named Hugo, a first year.  And last, George Weasley and Angelina Johnson have two children, Fred, a fourth year; and Roxanne, a second year.”  When she stopped talking, I was amazed.  We had certainly been busy, hadn’t we?

“What about Fred?”  I asked.  “He doesn’t have any children yet?  Well, is he married?”

McGonagall looked down at her interlocked hands.  “Many things have changed since your third year, Hermione.  Not all of them are good.”

My breath caught in my throat.  “What do you mean?”  I asked her, my voice trembling.  “What does that have to do with…Fred?”

She looked at me softly.  “I believe you know, dear.”

I shook my head, tears coming into my eyes.  “No,” I choked out, shaking my head harder.  “Fred…no, it can’t be.  No.  Just no!”  I shouted at her.  I shouted at a professor.  Actually, it was worse than that: I shouted at the Headmistress!  I buried my head into my hands.  “I can’t…believe it,” I whispered pathetically.  I knew I was being petty.  There was a Wizarding War, of course there must have been casualties.  But Fred?  Fred who laughed and joked and never hurt a fly?  Fred who pushed peoples’ buttons but still managed to make them love him?  I had never thought of Fred as vulnerable to mortality.  I had never thought of anyone I knew as such.  How many more had died?

McGonagall watched me throw my fit with her hands crossed in front of her.  “If you are quite through?”  She asked.  I nodded apologetically.  “I expected your grief when you came into this room Ms. Granger.  But once you leave it, you mustn’t let it peek out its head.  There is more at stake than what happened in the past.”

“What do you mean?”

She shook her head.  “Frankly I do not know,” she admitted.  “But I know that you wouldn’t be trapped here if there wasn’t something for you to do.”  She looked up at the portrait of Dumbledore, snoozing in his frame.  “Albus would not have sent you and your things if he didn’t have a reason for it.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore sent me here?”  I asked incredulously.  My breath caught in my throat as I saw him in his portrait.  He was right there. I could ask him everything I needed to know.

“It is only a hypothesis,” she said calmly.  “It is my guess that he cast some sort of spell over you—Confundus or Imperius—as you were turning the Time Turner.  And then he somehow managed to send your things along.”  She smiled.  “There are many things, secret things and hidden knowledge, which nobody will ever know about Dumbledore.  I am sure that he is ten times more brilliant than anyone thought he was, and considering what we did think he was, that is saying something.”  I looked up at his portrait, and could have sworn I saw the corners of his mouth move upwards.

“What am I supposed to do?”  I asked her.

She pondered for a second.  “One way or another, you will figure it out, Ms. Granger.  Destiny is destiny, and what is destined will come about no matter what we do.  I suggest you simply live for now.  Live in this time period, as one of the students.  Be as inconspicuous as possible.  I don’t know how long it will take to accomplish your mission.  It is better to establish yourself now rather than figure out you should have at a later date.”

I nodded.  “What is the year, professor?”

“2019,” she said without hesitation.

“Merlin’s beard!  That means that I’m—”

“Thirty-nine years old.”

I sunk my head into my hands.  “I cannot believe it.  I can hardly believe any of this, professor.”

She smiled at me.  “Nor I, as a matter of fact.  It is a grand mystery indeed, my dear.”  I nodded and began to leave.  “And Hermione?”  She asked.  “No Time Turner.  One class per hour, if you please.”  Flushing a little bit, I gave her my assurances and left.

A/N: Well, hope everyone liked! (anyone find the movie quote?) Please leave a review, and thanks so much for reading!

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