A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews!

Hogwarts ~ 1978

The walk to Dumbledore's office is mostly silent. Alaric left them with a nod goodbye as soon as they departed the Great Hall, needing to speak with the other aurors on the grounds. Hermione followed the Headmaster through every twist and turn, up staircases and around corners. Though the silence was not uncomfortable, Hermione was tense, reeling with the emotions from the day.

Once they finally made it past the gargoyle and into his office, Hermione took the offered seat across from her professor, back straight and hands in her lap. No matter how many times she met with Dumbledore in his office, she never could get away from feeling like a child about to get a scolding.

Unlike the many meetings he'd had with her, Dumbledore got straight to the point. "First of all, I'd like to apologize for our not coming to your aid in Hogsmeade as efficiently as we would have liked." He looked wary in a way that aged him, and caused her to see the beginnings of the man he would become in her time.

"Marlene explained that they sent some Death Eaters to the castle to delay your response," she said.

"Yes. Still." He paused, his eyes growing distant. He shook himself out of his thoughts and turned a smile upon her. "I'd also like to offer my warmest gratitude to your actions today."

"Sir?"

"Those I've spoken to said that you lead the defense against their attack and directed the students out of Hogsmeade and into the castle. It is because of you that we didn't see a massacre today."

She remained silent, feeling odd about taking credit for saving people's lives. "I think they wanted to create chaos more so than hurt anyone," she finally said.

He hummed. "Either way, one misstep and you know more than anyone that they wouldn't have hesitated to use deadly force."

She nodded.

"I would like to ask now for your version of events, if you are feeling up to it," he said softly.

She supposed he wanted a full account of what happened before debriefing the Order. Finally understanding the reason for her being in his office this evening, Hermione detailed what she could remember. Seeing the Death Eaters infiltrate the village, causing mayhem and wrecking the shops. Directing the others to lead the students into the Honeyduke's cellar and into the castle. If Dumbledore was unaware of this passage into the castle he didn't let on. She told him of everything that happened up until he and the Order arrived, only leaving out the panic attack caused by Bellatrix's presence. She didn't think it was relevant to what he needed to know.

The look he gave her begged to differ.

"Miss Granger, I trust you know that anything you share with me here will be in confidence. I know that you cannot speak to many about your situation, and I would like to offer my ear if you shall need it."

She couldn't pry her eyes away from his piercing stare. She wrung her hands together, noting the clamminess of her palms.

"The person, the Death Eater that, well, caused my appearance in this time, I guess you could say, was in Hogsmeade today."

She didn't have to say much. He knew what state she was in when she arrived in the Hospital Wing, the extent of her injuries. And he already knew that the Black family had something to do with it. It wouldn't be a leap for a man of his intellect to realize that Bellatrix was the culprit. That worked for her. She'd rather not get into the details.

When she was finished, he leaned forward in his chair. "Do you believe yourself to be in danger because of this person?"

She knew the true question he was asking. Did they recognize her? Were they here because of her? Did they give any indication that she was more than just a normal student at Hogwarts?

Hermione shook her head. "I don't believe so, sir. That was my first thought as well, but they didn't seem to pay any particular attention to me."

"That's what I suspected as well," he said, sitting back in his chair. "The Order will have to become more active. I'm sad to say that this will do exactly what Voldemort has set out to accomplish. The Wizarding World will come to see him as the threat that he is."

She hummed in agreement. "Have you thought about recruiting, sir?"

He peered at her from above his glasses. "From within Hogwarts?" At her nod he continued. "I must say, I hadn't thought of it. I am mainly focused on gaining members within the Ministry and other internal positions. I don't like the idea of bringing those so young into the war."

What a change in this man the war would bring. Reluctant though she knew he was, he hadn't hesitated to let Harry be a part of the second war, nor to allow him to bring herself and Ron into the mix. Despite him having defeated one of the most powerful dark wizards in their time, Dumbledore still seemed naïve in a way Hermione hadn't imagined. She supposed the war had changed everyone in many ways.

"With all due respect, sir, they are already in it. And if they weren't before, they are after today. This is a fight for their generation's future," she said firmly.

He contemplated this from behind his desk, his hands clasped in front of him. "I trust you have some names in mind."

"Yes, sir."

"I thought so. Keep an eye out for anyone else you think may be a good fit, and let me know of them as you find them."

She agreed. Would her recruitment list be one of those things that her presence influenced? Would James and Lily have joined the Order if not for her suggestion? She shook her head. She couldn't let those thoughts overpower her. What's done is done, even if that didn't seem to make sense now in the past.

"The Order would be lucky to have you, Miss Granger. I trust you know that," he said warmly.

She smiled regretfully. "I think we both know that would be unwise." Though, how easy would it be? She knew so much, and the longer she stayed here, the less she believed she was going to get back home. Would she be here long enough to see her friends die?

"Of course," he says, his eyes flashing with the possibility of what could be.

Before she could contemplate this any further, a brilliant light flooded the office, eventually taking the shape of a large cat. A lynx, Hemione realized, Kingsley's patronus. She shivered at the last time she had seen its form.

Just the sight of it caused Dumbledore to rise to his feet. "I must excuse myself for a moment, Miss Granger. If you'll please wait in my office." And with that, he moved across the room and out the door, his robes sweeping behind him.

Hermione's eyes trailed after him as the door softly closed behind his form. She knew the Order had finally called him away, but she didn't understand why he hadn't dismissed her. Was there more he had to share with her? Some progress on getting her back to her time?

Ever since Christmas Hermione had been confronted with the fact that time was slipping away from her. NEWTs were coming up, and with them the end of her Hogwarts education. What was she to do if she were stuck in this time after that? Here at Hogwarts, she had a lifeline. She had Dumbledore to rely on and friends to keep her sane. And she had the familiarity that the castle had to offer. She had never been a witch outside of her time at Hogwarts, save her most recent year on the run, and she didn't think living in a tent was a realistic post-graduate goal. She had no connections, no money, no one who knew who she really was save Dumbledore and Alaric. Perhaps she could convince the former to let her remain at Hogwarts, at least for the summer. She needed more time for Harry and Ron to find her.

Her fingers tapped nervously against the wooden arm of her chair as she glanced around the room, hoping to shake the intrusive worries from her mind. Fawkes' stand was empty, otherwise she might have been blocked from view of the bookshelf that stood behind it. Several books littered the shelf, with more than one covered in feathers and scales, but it was the small gray one in the middle that caught her attention. She had spent many long days staring at that cover and the pages that lay inside it, hoping to decipher the message meant for her. And now she was confronted with it again.

She crossed the small space to the shelf, reaching up her hand to run her finger down the withered spine. Though decades, perhaps even centuries old, the book remained intact. The gold lettering of the title seemed to brighten as she traced their lines.

She heard footsteps outside the room, notifying her of Dumbledore's return. Without hesitation, she snatched The Tales of Beedle the Bard off of the shelf and stowed it in her bag. She couldn't think much more about it before the door to the office opened.

"I apologize for the long wait, Miss Granger," he greeted her, still standing by the door.

Had it been long? She didn't know if it had been five hours or five minutes. Time flies when you're wallowing in a pit of anxiety.

"I would like to ask your presence at a certain meeting that is happening at this very moment," he continued. "You, of course, can decline. However, we need an eyewitness account, and I rather think it would be more powerful coming from you."

She raised her eyebrows at the offer, pondering if it really was a good idea to venture into the heart of the Order, knowing she knew more than all of those bright minds put together. But ultimately, her curiosity won over and she accepted.

Hermione followed the headmaster through the winding corridors of the castle. Once they got off at the seventh floor, she realized where they were headed. Of course they couldn't go to Hogsmeade, where they presumably had most of their meetings. And anywhere else would cause Dumbledore to abandon the castle when it was at its most vulnerable, something she knew he was loath to do.

Dumbledore paced back and forth in front of the wall three times, giving her a knowing smile when she didn't look the least bit surprised at his odd behavior.

"I take it this is not your first encounter with the Room of Requirement?"

She smiled. "No, sir."

Finally, the door appeared. With a loud creak, it swung open and she was propelled into chaos.

There were about fifteen people, but with the volume in the room she would have guessed fifty. Despite the large wooden table placed in the center of the room, they all stood in varying places around it. Everyone was involved in a heated discussion, people talking over each other and throwing their hands in the air. Others stayed quiet, faces drawn in worry that only grew with each raising voice.

She recognized a few faces. Kingsley stood tall and brooding in the corner by the roaring fire, listening intently to what a witch she couldn't place was saying. There was Emmeline Vance and Arabella Figg, the former of which involved in what looked like a heated discussion with Alaric, who stood with his arms crossed and sterner than she had ever seen him. There was also Mad-Eye Moody, someone whose death she had had no time to process once they were thrust into their horcrux hunt. She watched as his magical eye spun towards her as the door shut behind them with a snap, thrusting the room into silence.

"All good, Hermione?" Alaric asked as he moved closer to them, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She knew he was mostly doing it to break the tense silence, and to show the others in the room that she wasn't a threat. But she also saw the real concern in his eyes, something she was grateful for, but nodded away.

"Good evening everyone," Dumbledore greeted, not paying any mind to the apprehension in the room.

"What's the meaning of this Albus?" Moody said gruffly. He moved his hand to his side where his wand lay, taking a step closer to them.

"What he means to say is, who is this young witch accompanying you?" Emmeline said lightly, though not taking her eyes off of Hermione. The fierceness that the witch had in her older age had already begun to show itself on her younger face.

"Ah yes," Dumbledore said airily, as if he had forgotten. "This is Hermione Granger. She is a seventh-year student here and will be giving us an eyewitness account of the attacks this afternoon."

"You brought a student here? A student from no light family I can think of. Is that mind of yours really going in your old age, Albus?" She had to give it to Moody. He was the only one that didn't treat Dumbledore with the godly deference others afforded him.

"Though I would not have phrased it in quite that way," Kingsley said deeply, "I must agree. Why bring someone into the Order when you simply could have relayed the information to us yourself?"

"I assure you Miss Granger is as trustworthy as they come. I did not want her story to be whittled down in a retelling. I thought it best to hear it from someone who was there. The student that lead the defense, I might add."

"You really can trust her," Alaric added, not moving from his place beside her. "She's my best student, and a bleeding-heart Gryffindor if I've ever seen one."

Hermione shuffled her feet as she felt a rush of warmth to her face. Not only was she uncomfortable with the praise from her only allies in this time, but they were telling it to some of the brightest minds of their generation. Granted she had met many of them before, but they didn't know her here.

Dumbstruck that the room had seemingly accepted Dumbledore's reasoning, Moody continued. "That's not good enough! We need reassurance that she is not one of them. They're taking students now, those of Hogwarts age. Even you can be fooled, Albus. Constant vigilance! Or have you forgotten?"

Hermione smiled despite herself.

"What do you want to do, Mad-Eye? Give her veritaserum?" Alaric sneered.

"That's not a bad i—" Moody started.

"No," a young witch said forcefully, cutting him off. She had strawberry blonde hair and fierce blue eyes that held Hermione's gaze as she walked to stand by Moody. "That's much too invasive for a student with Dumbledore's word."

"We still need—" Moody started, but was silenced by the witch with a look.

She turned back to the group. "We know that he's marking the left forearm of his followers with that crude tattoo."

Alaric stiffened beside her, likely remembering what he had discovered when he had gone down this path months ago.

"The Dark Mark, yes," Moody said gruffly. "Granger was it? If you wouldn't mind." His tone suggested that this was no request. He motioned to her arms, still covered by the sleeves of the now dirtied jumper she had worn to Hogsmeade.

She should have felt more wary, but something about the stress of the day caused her only to be impatient. She just wanted to get this over with, and she didn't have time to argue with Moody or anyone else in the Order about where her true motives lie. Besides, she knew she could trust everyone in this room.

She pushed the sleeves of her jumper to her elbows, baring her arms for them all to see. The glamor she kept on her arm had worn off, as she would have already been fast asleep in bed by now if it had been an ordinary day.

The jagged slur stood out on her pale white skin, taunting them all with a vision of what this war was capable of. She heard others in the room gasp at the scar, but her eyes never left Moody's as they flickered from her arm to her face. She would never say she had seen Moody look uneasy, but she this was about as close as she would get. His mouth flattened into a grim line, not daring to say a word as his magical eye for once stayed still.

"Satisfied?" Hermione asked.

He met her gaze once more, then nodded sharply.

She rolled her sleeves down, ignoring the murmured whispers surrounding her.

"Wonderful," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together and ignoring the newfound tension in the room. "Why don't we all have a seat, and Miss Granger can recount for us what occurred in Hogsmeade this afternoon."

The headmaster held out a chair for her in the middle of the large rectangular table, which she took, sandwiched between him and Alaric and across from Moody.

Once everyone was seated, she recanted her tale. How she and her friends were on their way to the Hog's Head when she noticed a group of Death Eaters making their way to the village.

"Three Broomsticks too good for you and your friends?" Moody said suspiciously.

"Not everyone is content with the predictable and mundane, Alastor," a tall bearded wizard said from the corner of the table. She recognized him as the owner of the aforementioned pub, and now looking at him realized the striking resemblance he had with the man sitting beside her.

She continued, recounting how her friends had led groups of students into Honeyduke's cellar and how the rest of them had decided to fight. She could feel the looks of pride and surprise aimed at her as she recanted how they had fought off the Death Eaters. She carried on quickly, not wanting to dwell in what they would deem heroics and she would only call survival.

She trailed off towards the end, not knowing how to approach the subject of Bellatrix.

Alaric seemed to notice and jumped in. "That's when the Order showed up. I saw Hermione and her friends, Potter, Black, and Lupin, defending themselves behind a shopfront. I got to them and caused a distraction, allowing them to run to Honeyduke's and get to the castle. You all know the rest." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

She snuck a glance up at Dumbledore, who slyly nodded his head. She breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn't have to tell them about Bellatrix or the panic that she had inflicted upon her.

The room erupted into quiet chatter before Kingsley's soft but authoritative voice cut through.

"Many Death Eaters fled the scene before the Order arrived. Miss Granger, did you recognize anyone fighting against you?"

She once again looked at Dumbledore for confirmation, not knowing if she should share who was there and how she knew them. At his nod, she returned her attention to Kingsley.

"Er, well, I'm not sure who you didn't see. But there was Dolohov, for sure. I heard someone say his name," she added quickly, not knowing if he was well-known in this time. "And a blonde stocky looking man."

"That'll be Yaxley," Emmeline cut in.

She nodded, opting for being descriptive but vague on names. "And a tall, black-haired wizard with an angular beard."

"Could be Crabbe," the blonde witch said.

"Or Avery," another added.

"The only other person I recognized was, um, Bellatrix." She squirmed a little in her seat, and was grateful when Alaric placed a hand on hers under the table.

"Bellatrix Black?" someone said.

"Lestrange now," Moody corrected.

"Goldhorn, didn't you say you found the Black boy with them? Could he have been a part of the attack? We know they're recruiting from Hogwarts," the strawberry blonde who had spoken up for Hermione said.

Hermione felt a rage bubble up inside of her. This is what had caused everyone to so readily believe that he had betrayed the Potters. No one thought he could possibly escape the curse of his name. "Sirius wouldn't do that. He's nothing like his family. He was fighting on our side, against them."

The witch eyed her, seeming to reassess her after this outburst.

"Hermione's right. Black is a true Gryffindor, nothing like the others in his family. Even is living with the Potter's now, I believe," Alaric said, echoing her sentiment.

"I concur," Dumbledore said, before pushing his chair back and moving to stand. Everyone else took the hint that this meeting was over. "Now I think we better let Miss Granger return to her dormitory. It has been a long and trying night for all of us, and I think we could all do with some rest."

Hermione stood with the rest of them, more than ready to leave the meeting and turn in for the night.

"Miss Granger." A voice called her attention back to the group.

She turned towards it, noting the fierce gaze Emmeline was directing towards her as she stood amongst the others. "I think I can say for all of us that we are grateful for your presence in Hogsmeade today, and would like to thank you for your bravery."

The rest of the Order caught on, giving her nods of thanks and praise.

Though grateful for the recognition, she was now even more uncomfortable than before and itched to get out of the room and into her own bed. She gave them an awkward smile, and moved for the exit.

After moving at a zombie-like pace, Hermione finally found solace in the empty common room as she stepped through the portrait's opening. The fire was roaring, despite her being the only one to enjoy it. She collapsed onto the sofa, not able to gather any more strength to maneuver her body up the staircase. She turned her head from its place on the pillow to look at the bag in her hand, hanging limply off the edge of the sofa.

She sat up slowly, dragging the leather bag onto her lap and thrusting her hand inside. Only a few seconds passed before she found the item she was searching for, and pulled out the worn copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. She opened it, thumbing through the familiar pages and engrossing herself in its contents. Stories she had read countless times before, looking for any clue that Dumbledore would have left for her. Why did the urge to grab this item so consume her in his office? It was only a book, a book she had read countless of times before. Just because it had some connection to her future didn't mean she had any right to take it. She had just decided that she would replace it on its shelf the next chance she got when she heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Hermione?" a soft voice called.

She turned her head. A sleep-ridden Remus made his way down the boys' staircase, covering his mouth with a yawn.

"What are you doing up?" she asked.

"Was waiting for you actually," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he moved towards her. "Just went upstairs to shower and change into something less war-torn."

"Oh, Remus, you didn't have to do that!" She shifted her body on the sofa so he would have room to sit.

He seemed to melt into the cushions beside her. "Don't worry about it. No matter how tired I am, I can't quite seem to sleep after today."

"I know what you mean," she said, shifting closer so their shoulders were touching. She was content like this, sitting beside the fire beside her friend. She didn't have many quiet days in the common room like this in her previous life.

"What's that?" Remus asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

She followed his eye to the book in her hand.

"Oh, just an old book of fairytales." She closed it, but didn't put it away.

"Ah, I think James mentioned Beedle before. My mum never let me read those. We stuck to the Brothers Grimm." He smiled in remembrance.

"I always forget your mum's a Muggle."

"A half-blooded werewolf. Bit of a two-fer for Voldemort, eh?" he grinned.

She snorted.

"That's quite a worn copy. I don't think I've seen one that old before." His attention returned to the book as he ran a hand down the cover. "Did you get that in the library?"

The gears started turning in her brain before her mouth could catch up. "Uh, no. No, it's Dumbledore's," she said, distractedly, her mind already somewhere else.

"Hm, that's nice of him to lend it to you. Well, I'm pretty tired. I'm gonna call it a night." He rose from the sofa, either having noticed her distracted mood or too tired to pay it any mind.

"Yes, good night," she responds, not truly aware of the words as they pass her mouth, too focused on the one in a million chance of an idea that infiltrated her head.

She turned the book over and flipped it open, stopping on the last page. She was right. There was something different about this version of the book that she had gotten so used to in the future. Missing was the scratching of a few runic symbols on the back page. She hadn't gotten around to translating them in the future. She had just thought that they were from a previous owner of the book, something she kicked herself for now. But she had gotten so wrapped up in the Hallows symbol and what it meant that she had honestly forgotten about it until now. Not even when Remus had shown them to her in the library.

She pulled a quill out of her bag and scratched the runes Remus had created for her and himself in the book. It was crazy, this idea that may not even pay off. But she had to set something in motion. She had endless faith in Harry and Ron, but they had no way of knowing where she was, let alone when she was. Only Remus, someone who was connected to her in this time and in the future could bring her back. Someone with a brilliant mind and a thirst for answers. And with her research on the spell that brought her here, she knew she couldn't just tell Remus that he must find a way to bring her back twenty years from now. No, he would forget when all of their memories of her presence are wiped by the spell upon her departure. Not to mention he might think her insane and commit her to St. Mungo's. So, it had to be something tangible, something that would at the very least give him a clue as to where she was.

She prayed that Harry and Ron weren't too stubborn to enlist someone from the Order to help them find her. And if it were to be anyone from the Order, she knew that Remus would be the only one Harry would trust with this.

She pulled her quill up with one last swoop on the page. This was something. Finally she wasn't just a sitting duck, relying on someone else to save her and bring her back to her time. She would set things in motion.

She closed the book and placed it in her bag. Next change she got, she would return it to Dumbledore's office.

A/N: Things are kicking into motion!

We're nearing the end (not too close but not too far either), and truth is I'm having a bit of writer's block. I know how I want this story to end, it's actually the first idea that popped into my head for this story, but I'm a little stumped on how to fill in the gaps to get there. So if you all have any ideas on what you want to see or characters you want to pop in, please let me know!

Hope you are all staying happy and healthy. Please leave a review if you can!