Remember When

Remember When...

Prologue

Rating: R

Hermione Granger was not one to be found idly twiddling her thumbs on an afternoon in which she had finished all her homework (and some that was due the following week) with the sun was beating down in all its early June glory. Actually, she would have loved to be outside doing just that, and maybe sneaking away to some secluded corner of the grounds with a nice, musty, tome of a book to scare away Harry and Ron, and then settle down for a nap in the warm sunshine. Instead she was awaiting Professor McGonagall outside the stone gargoyle at the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office.

She sighed and leaned against the wall with a frown. She knew that she shouldn't be the only one standing there. In fact, she was down right annoyed that the slimy git of a Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, wasn't there with her, awaiting whatever punishment their Headmaster was inevitably going to dish out. It wasn't her fault that he was in the hospital wing with feelers growing out of un-natural places and a face so grey that a Flobberworm would have looked less sickly than him. Well, actually it was... but really, he had been asking for it!

"Filthy, horrid, lowlife of a disgrace to the title of witch!"

She bristled as the words they had exchanged only a half hour before came rushing back to her mind.

"Shut-up, Malfoy, you know I can make you!"

"As if a stupid little mudblood like you could ever out-draw a pureblooded wizard like me in a duel."

And he had sneered at her; that condescending, arrogant, twisted grin that always got her up in arms. Hermione could hardly remember what had started their squabble in the hallway outside the Potions classroom, but she knew that she should have known better than to let Malfoy rile her up while Snape, his head of house and widely known hater of all things Gryffindor, was within hearing range, but she had. It had just been one too many pokes at her lineage, one too many nasty remarks, and then he had shoved past her in his haste to get to his next class and one thing led to another and--

Professor McGonagall was striding down the nearly empty hallway, her mouth stretched into a thin line, and Hermione quickly wiped the smirk that had appeared at the memory of her doing just what Malfoy had boasted she could not do--leaving him half conscious on the cold stones of the dungeon floor, feelers and all--off her face and tried to look properly sorry. It was a hard task as she felt that she had been justified, even if she had done magic in the hallway.

That had been her problem, actually. Because, as soon as the words to her curse left her mouth, the door to Snape's classroom had burst open and he had come stomping out with a glare that would cower Death itself. He had taken one surprised look at his favorite student, paired with an equally dark one at her, taking in her drawn wand, and yanked her into his office. He'd ordered her to sit on a chair and not move while he threw something into his fireplace, shoved his head into the flames, and bellowed for McGonagall.

* * * *

"Come now, Miss Granger, you should have known better! What ever came over you? I would have thought that you were much more mature than that--you should have ignored him... I'm very disappointed with your behavior."

Hermione hung her head, now looking sorry for real. Not, of course, for hexing Malfoy, he had deserved it; not even for angering Snape, heavens, he deserved it too; but for disappointing her head of house. If there was anyone who Hermione looked up to as much as Dumbledore, it was Minerva McGonagall. The woman lived for order and rules as much as Hermione did--or as much as she used to, before Harry and Ron had corrupted her. She smiled a bit at that, behind her Professor's back of course, as they began their way up the long moving staircase following the presentation of that week's password: "Butterbeer". She hated to be a disappointment to someone she held in such high esteem.

"I'm sorry that I need to take you to see the Headmaster, as well, Miss Granger, as normally I would have given you detention and been done with it. However, seeing as your target, as much as he may have deserved whatever he got," Here she allowed herself half a smile, away from Hermione's line of vision. "Landed in the hospital wing on account of your spell, he shall be the one to decide what we do with you. Trust me, Hermione," And at this she stopped and turned back to look at her prize student with a stern face, but sad eyes. "I would hate to see you expelled for this."

Hermione's heart verily stopped. Expelled? Surely not! She swallowed hard and nodded silently at the Deputy Headmistress, who turned around again and knocked on the tall oak door that led to Dumbledore's spacious, yet clutter-filled, office. They waited. No sound. Hermione watched as Professor McGonagall knocked again, then opened the door and poked her head inside. When she pushed the door open a few moments later, it was revealed that no one was there.

"I suppose he's in another part of the castle at this time. Take a seat and I shall go locate him. We will return in a few minutes." With that, the tall, thin woman and her trademark prim bun of graying hair, swept out the door, which closed with a doom-filled thud.

Hermione looked around Dumbledore's office. The golden telescope was still in the corner by a window as always, Fawkes was still on his perch, although he looked as though he had less then a week left until his next burning, and the Sorting Hat was still on its shelf above Dumbledore's desk. However, something next to it caught her eye. It was glittering in the candle light of the candelabra set next to the desk. She stepped closer for a better look. It was the Time-Turner she had used three years ago!

Her heart began to beat faster. She could change this! Go back in time until just before she hexed Malfoy and refrain from doing so! She wouldn't be expelled from Hogwarts, therefore failing her N.E.W.T.s, not getting a good job, and ending up like Mundungus Fletcher--all covered in fleas and selling stolen cauldrons for a living! She took a deep breath and she contemplated her actions. She knew full well the consequences of messing with time, but, just once, she wanted to break out of her good-girl mold (what was left of it after all her escapades with Ron and Harry) and fix her tarnished record. Besides, she had experience in these matters from when Sirius and Buckbeak were around in her third year, no one ever need know...

"Why not?" she breathed softly to herself.

Slowly she reached up to the shelf, standing on her tiptoes to reach it. But...she was too short! Silently she cursed her diminutive stature and looked around for something to stand on. Dumbledore's chair was nearest and she eyed it. If she got caught... she figured she was at least as good as expelled... if not worse! But then again, it was her Time-Turner, was it not? She had been given it by her head of house... well, Professor McGonagall hadn't specifically said it was hers to keep forever... but, while the Ministry had been the original owner, there must be some reason as to why the Time-Turner remained in Dumbledore's possession.

"Professor Dumbledore must have it just to keep it safe!" Hermione reasoned to herself under her breath, knowing inside that she was really just attempting to rationalize her actions. Harry and Ron must have rubbed off on her.

Taking a deep breath, she rolled the Headmaster's chair over to the shelf--why he had wheels on it, she had no idea--other than to whiz around the room much to the chagrin of the other faculty and staff members she wouldn't doubt--and climbed up onto it. She was just about the right height--if she stood on her tiptoes...

Suddenly she heard voices: McGonagall's distinctly Scottish accent was explaining who was inside the headmaster's office and Dumbledore's calm, and somewhat amused one was trying to pacify his upset head of Gryffindor.

Hermione gasped, re-thinking her actions, and hurriedly tried to set the delicate hourglass and its thin gold chain back atop the shelf. However, her sudden movement caused Dumbledore's chair to launch violently in the opposite direction. Hermione let out a startled cry as she fell forwards off the chair and towards the hard, stone floor below. But the thin golden chain of the Time-Turner was threaded through her fingers and the miniature hourglass spun frantically through the air as she accidentally jerked it off the shelf once more.

The doorknob turned....

...and two Professors entered the office to find nothing out of the ordinary except that the Headmaster's chair had moved several feet to the right of his desk. No other person was in the room.