Don't Repeat History

Don't Repeat History

By Clairvoyant Snake

Chapter 8~2^nd of September, 1942

On This Day in History:

Your Horoscope: Virgo
September 2, 1996

The world is watching. Maybe you're not being judged yet, but you've definitely been spotted. For your own comfort and safety, observe the established social norms here. Following the written rules goes without saying. This could be especially hard once you become aware of the dark side's irresistible lure. Think about the long-term consequences, and it should be easy to just say no. Check in with your adviser for easy praise or reliable advice. These people are a powerful force in your life. You'd do well to take full advantage of what they have to offer.

... Hermione could hardly wait to see how her classes were going to be starting the next day -- If anything good came out of her being stuck in the past, it was the amount of studying she could accomplish. She smiled in the familiarity of the words, study, and she dreamt that night of books in the library actually telling her the stories instead of her having to read them herself. Now that would be an invention of most ingenious usefulness. What Hermione had no clue about, was that Tom Riddle himself had similar dreams; Dreams of his diary telling his tales to an open ear, when he himself would not be available any longer.

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Hermione felt her covers whoosh past her curled up body, and groaned in impatience. Slowly, she opened her left eye and winced when she saw the two girls, Anna and Charlotte looming over her bed. Anna held Hermione's sheets in one hand, and Charlotte had a glass of water in the other.

"Sorry about that Victoria, at least we didn't resolve to use the water," Anna said with a slight quirk. She then nodded to Charlotte, and the other girl set the glass of water on the nightstand.

"Why are you guys waking me up in the middle of the night?" Hermione's distorted voice came out slightly unintelligible but understandable in the long run, for she now had her pillow on her face and she lay flat on her back - Sheet-less mind, but she was feeling extremely pissed off about being woken in the middle of what she thought was the dark.

Anna and Charlotte exchanged amused smiles and then turned to her, "Victoria--" Hermione put on hand up and muffled out quickly, "Please do not call me that! Just call me Her-- Tori. Yes, now, please continue". Hermione waved a hand in the air idly awaiting what they had to say. She had almost slipped. And that was most definitely *not* good.

Charlotte cleared her throat and continued from where she was so rudely interrupted, "Tori, what I wanted to say was -its not night. In fact, in one hour just, our first class will begin," comprehension drew itself on Anna's face now.

"Oh! But Charlotte," she turned to her friend, "I know why she thought it was still night! We're in the dungeons now, remember?"

Echoes of "Oh's" went on throughout the room. Hermione shot up out of bed, threw her pillow down on the end of it and said in a very familiar voice, used when telling Ron and Harry to get a move on 'things' such as work.

"Come on! Off to the bathroom now. Wouldn't want to keep our teachers waiting," and she thus shooed them out of the room, Anna's hands still clutching the sheets.

"B-but Tori! Just you wait a minute!"

Hermione's hand shot out for the green sheets and quickly threw them onto her bed. After that, she again grabbed the two girls' hands as they followed Hermione out of the dorm room and into the main girls' hall.

She stopped short on remembering that she had no idea whatsoever where the bathrooms here could be. Hermione's answer came as Charlotte walked to the front of the line and the other two followed her to the end of the hallway, where the showers were situated.

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Drying her hair with a now moist gray towel that she had found in the rooms, Hermione muttered a quick charm to keep her hair from frizzing out. Then she quickly went to her trunk, which had along with herself into this time period, had somehow managed to make it with her as well. I suppose my foot might have been wrapped around it when I was sitting with Harry and Ron. Whatever the reason, she was simply glad it had made it there with her at all, but Crookshanks on the other hand, had not been with her at the moment. As far as she knew, he was still there, stuck in a time warp, or not so much a warp for her friends as it would be for her.

She viewed the scene before her, as she readied herself for her first day as a Hogwarts student incognito.

Anna was pulling on her stockings, and while doing so had a strong grip on Charlotte's shoulder to balance her weight before falling flat on her bum. Charlotte was checking her mirror for any flaws in her makeup.

"Quit it, Anna! I can't put on this mascara with you jumping all around and bumping into me constantly!"

"I can't help it! These stupid stockings won't go up," she whined pitifully.

"Then lose more weight! I keep telling you to do so; it won't hurt to lose a few more, now would it?"

Hermione went into dead-panic at that point. She quickly rose out of her seat and walked over to the two bickering girls. With her hands on her hips, she looked every bit the part of a self-imposed powerful witch that demanded everyone to listen and do as she said.

"Girls, I know this may come as a shock to you...But you guys aren't fat. At. All."

The two stopped dead in their tracks, one putting on a heavy dose of eye make-up, the other still trying to pull up her left stocking. Anna's mouth was wide open, as she was just about to tell off Charlotte for her last comment.

Hermione decided to continue, she did after all say she wanted to help the two out. So what if I don't know them that well, she thought idealistically.

"I said what I said, and I expect you to believe it. I'm not joking, you guys are," she stopped and looked them both square in the eye, hoping to convey her message thoroughly, "beautiful, and shouldn't have to do this to yourselves for the sake of others' opinions. In fact -"

Hermione was stopped by Anna's trembling mouth.

"You wouldn't know the first thing about what we go through, Tori! You wouldn't! You don't even know what we do, so don't try and act like you can help us, when we're not doing anything wrong."

Hermione shook her head, wishing they would stop jumping to conclusions, even though she knew she had, but through substantial evidence in favor of her theory. The proof alone stood in front of her very eyes, how could they deny her accusations for causing malnutrition to their own bodies? She gave them each a pointed look at this point. She stood by her belief, and that was her initial theory of what they did after eating.

"I do know. And trust me, it isn't anything but wrong. My own cousin used to do this to herself, everyday, every night...I remember waking up sometimes to the sound of her doing it, and trust me...when she neared her breaking point, it was absolutely horrid. You two," she held out her hand to indicate them, "should know something about what happens when you keep up with what you are doing to yourselves. And that is--" Hermione stopped, looked at them, sighed and then took Anna's shirt in her hands and lifted it up mid-torso.

"See what I mean, you two?"

Anna's rib cage stuck out with all the angles of bone clearly accentuated by the sheer drape like skin that stretched across her meager body.

"This. And," Hermione now went to Charlotte's shirt, who at first resisted then relented finally, giving Hermione access to her shirt.

"This," Hermione said again, and Charlotte too had bones sticking out too much for their own good. The only difference between her and Anna's condition it seemed was the obvious blotchiness of skin. Evidently, not the only sign of Bulimics was clearly visible bones, but the easily bruised skin.

Hermione looked at the two girls, whose heads were down in shame. Their secret now out, they could only hope that Hermione wouldn't say anything -- they hated when the adults got involved.

"Fine. Now you know our dirty little secret. What are you going to do about it?" Charlotte surprisingly said, trying to maintain an ounce of control over what she previously thought she held it over.

Hermione blinked.

"Me? *I* don't plan on doing anything apart from making sure you guys don't kill yourselves. Does that sound like a horrible plan to you? Or should I ask one of the professors to assist you?"

"Um, Tori, I think we'd appreciate keeping this between ourselves. Ya' know, Slytherin honor and all...we don't just go around telling our secrets to the outside world," Anna's timid words said.

Hermione rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes, coming to a decision.

"If you guys don't go to a teacher, I will myself. But," she stopped and looked up resignedly, "if you two listen to me, and don't continue -I'll not tell a soul. You'll have my word on it, but believe me when I say it -I will make sure you guys are abiding by my rules, and if not...you know the consequences".

Anna and Charlotte looked at each other before simultaneously sighing, and said, "We have a deal."

They shook on it. All three of them.

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Not perhaps the best start to anyone's school day, Hermione decided she needed to take a break from everyone and head down to the Headmaster's office to discuss her time-traveling problem.

As she neared the office, she saw the familiar statue and was about to call out names of various Muggle sweets when a man coughed behind her. Turning around, Hermione received the biggest shock of the day. Even though she knew he was not at the time, she had still conveniently forgotten.

Albus Dumbledore was not a Headmaster in this time and age. He was only a Transfiguration professor, and a Deputy Head. But he would do, in fact, he was perfect and low key enough to help Hermione out, she decided.

His auburn beard, which was surprisingly long, even at that time, was flowing freely across his cloak-covered chest. He had the aura of a powerful wizard, and one could not mistake the feeling as they approached the wizard. He was indeed the entity of good and knowledge; this helped Hermione relax a bit, after the initial shock and she ground her nerves just to ask him one question.

"Professor Dumbledore, will you help me. I have gotten myself into a dilemma, and its one that should be discussed, in length, with only you -- You and myself."

She dared not go into detail farther, which was a good hindsight on her part, for Tom Riddle himself had seen her and his Transfiguration teacher conversing in the hall in front of Headmaster Dippet's office.

No doubt, Hermione would not be believed to be innocent if Tom had actually heard what she said to Dumbledore. No, indeed, he would be more than likely spiteful of the new girl, and just why she could not tell him. However, no matter, he would find a way, if that were so. And in this case, by sheer luck alone, Tom had not overheard his 'Tori' and thus left it at that for the moment.

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Hermione was led through the halls by her now Transfiguration professor, and actually panted in exertion from trying to keep up with him as he merely strolled down the halls down to his own office.

He opened the door after speaking his password (Willy Wonka), and indicated she take a seat in front of his desk. A stack of papers sat on it neatly, and she swore she saw a shallow pool of molten silver -which she knew to be from Pensieves, inside a stone wear basin.

"Now, tell me who you are, where you're from, and just how you got here to begin with," Dumbledore started the conversation. Hey! How come he didn't offer me any tea? I thought he always did for Harry...not to mention lemon drops...

Hermione, slightly disappointed in the way she was addressed, chose not to divulge in her thoughts but instead answer his frank questions.

She sighed and tried not to bite her bottom lip as she answered, "Hmm, to start? Well, you may find this hard to believe Professor, but I'm not from this time."

Hermione waited for the short intake of breath and the following lecture of sanity issues, which she figured would follow. She was wrong, and he nodded for her to continue. Perhaps he was accustomed to receiving unusual explanations.

"It all started when..."

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Hermione, now finished telling him of how she had 'fallen' into the time (1942), and now was just onto the part about how she met Tom.

"I met him on the train, and I know I shouldn't tell you this, because frankly, it could change time -" she was interrupted by a quick hand motion Dumbledore made, quieting her before she continued.

"Stop! Do not dare tell me of the future! Have you no sense?"

Hermione felt ashamed for wanting to burden her secrets on the old wizard, but she felt as if he already knew, and therefore it would be alright if she just confirmed his suspicions. I mean, wouldn't I be saving countless lives by telling him? Nevertheless, she hung her head and let him continue.

"As long as you refrain from telling me of the future, you may continue Miss Granger, you say?"

She nodded. And that was the only thing she had told him of her time...her name. According to him, it was fine, but anything else would alter the string of events if she so much as uttered a word of the future. The castle had walls, he told her, and she believed him.

"Just keep calling me, Miss Valasen in public, please. As you already know. I was also wondering just how I came to be on the list? And what about Pro--Headmaster," she corrected herself, "Dippet, how come he didn't ask me to step aside and question me? Or do random students actually just get away with this?"

It had been bugging her since she first remembered Dippet, and of how he was the Headmaster, earlier that day.

"Miss Granger, Headmaster Dippet simply welcomes anyone as long as they are wizard or witch. The list is magically integrated to script the names of the students who have magic in them, onto the master list as soon as they enter the Hogwarts ground for a Sorting. It can enlighten itself when a person enters the grounds, by way of wards set around the parameters."

She nodded. In fact, Hermione just remembered reading about the wards in her copy of 'Hogwarts, A History'.

"So, the wards were set and they picked up on a 'new-comer' so to speak?" she rhetorically questioned herself. Dumbledore nodded, and she continued.

"It all makes sense now...But -" Hermione stopped and considered what she said next, "Just how will I ever get back to my time, if the only time-turners available in this day and age are 'Day Travelers' not 'Year Travelers'?"

Hermione felt slightly put out that such a quandary was now forced upon herself. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he in turn chose to enlighten the girl sitting in front of him, sitting so morosely, as if a relative had died.

"That my child, you will find is one of Professor McGonagall's and my latest project to work on. In fact, I must inform her of the need of a Time-Turner with those features that you speak of. I'm sure, given time, we will be able to assemble one that will take you back, but for the meantime, you will remain a Slytherin Sixth Year named Victoria Valasen. And may I commend you on such a name, its quite unique and very pretty."

She blushed in resignation and sighed with relief. At least someone could do the work for her, and she only now needed a reason to help her teachers as they squandered useless theories about Time-Turners; After all, it was helpful that Hermione read and remembered the working theories of said 'Year' Travelers, and by golly, she was thankful of her thirst for knowledge, Harry and Ron be damned. She would help, and even point out the right way about going to make the Time-Turner, even if it killed her.

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TBC...