Harry Potter 1. The Enchanted Staircase

**Your Hidden Past**

Pairs of black shoes clicked upon the marble staircase melodiously, taking the owners to places they wanted to be. After all of the shoes had disappeared, the stairs were quiet again. That was, until a pair of black shoes came running upon them.

The portraits looked in sympathy at a young girl, whose bag was overly full as she ran on the stairs, cursing herself.

'I can't believe I overslept! How can this happen?' said the girl loudly.

'I had set my alarm, -' she raised one finger. '- I went to bed early, -' she raised another one. Hesitantly, she put the second one down. '- alright, maybe three in the morning isn't that early,' she reasoned.

One of the portraits laughed and the girl gave the person occupying it a half-smile. She trudged along the stairs in a hurry, remembering she was late for class.

When she reached the last step, she lost her balance and slid down the stairs.

It all happened very fast. The stairs started spinning around wildly and the girl clutched the railing, trying to regain her balance. The stairs started spinning around more wildly, looking like a blur of colours, and detached itself from the platform below and the platform above, so that it was hovering in mid-air.

One of the portraits shrieked loudly, when suddenly, without a warning, the spinning stairs disappeared with a bright flash.

As if nothing had happened, another staircase fell from the ceiling and clicked into place with the platforms. The portraits all had a very far away look on their faces and one of them threw an empty glance at the staircase before muttering 'Odd, I could have sworn there was a girl standing there.'

* * *

Meanwhile, the stairs with the girl upon it fell from another ceiling, and clicked into place, connecting itself with two platforms that looked less worn.

The girl was shaking and when she started to get up, she lost her balance and she fell back down.

'Oof!'

'Ow!'

The girl's vision was spinning wildly when the figure pushed her off. She gasped loudly when she saw two angry black eyes look at her.

'Snape?' she questioned.

'How do you know my name? I've never seen you before,' said the black eyed person.

'But, -' said the girl. Then she frowned and looked over the face of the person she was lying upon. She jumped up quickly and felt the beginning of the railing poke in her back.

'Severus Snape?'

Severus Snape sneered and dusted himself off. Then he looked at the girl in front of him and his eyes flared over her body quickly. The girl felt sick.

'I don't know you, -' said Severus silkily, walking over to her. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

'-but I'm sure that I wouldn't forget such a pretty face.'

The girl slapped his hand away and was about to open her mouth, when somebody else did it for her.

'Oy, Snivellus! You wouldn't happen to be _hitting _on the poor girl, would you? I feel sorry for her already!'

Severus stepped away quickly and his lip turned into a familiar scowl. He glared at the black haired boy that came running towards them and he smiled coyly at the girl.

'We'll meet again,' he said, before walking onto the stairs briskly.

The black haired boy stopped in front of the girl, trying to catch his breath.

'Sirius?' gasped the girl.

Two mischievous grey eyes looked up at her. The girl stared at him, and then she fainted.

Sirius Black caught her just before she hit the ground and he grinned.

'I know I'm handsome, but this is ridiculous.'

He scooped the girl up and brought her to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, came rushing out of her office the minute he entered the Hospital Wing.

'Black, what have you done now?'

'I didn't do anything!' wailed Sirius loudly, placing the girl on a bed near him. 'She saw me and she fainted, I swear!'

The nurse huffed and bent herself over the girl. She searched her face and she frowned. Then she took a sharp intake of breath and stumbled away from the bed.

'Fetch Professor Dumbledore, immediately!'

Sirius's smile disappeared and he walked out of the Hospital Wing quickly, his mind set on the strange girl with brilliant brown eyes, that looked like she had seen a ghost when she looked at him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Is this good or horrible? I came up with it just now and it took me over an hour to type -groans- If I get one review, I'll be adding more!


	2. An Unexpected Visitor

**Your Hidden Past**

Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat serenely in his office. His blue eyes were void of emotion, partially hidden behind his half-moon spectacles, as he surveyed the instrument in front of him.

The fragile, tiny silver instrument on his desk was making rhythmic clicking noises, pale green smoke forming itself from the miniscule silver tube at the top. The smoke seemed to have formed together, the stream of green forming a giant rose bud, its petals unfolding.

'Curious,' murmured Albus, apparently to himself, looking at the stream of smoke with an air of surprise and curiosity. 'For how long?'

The rose seemed to react to this almost instantly, splitting itself in two, and then four. This went on for several seconds, until there were sixteen green roses in front of the Headmaster, some of which petals were still unfolding.

'Naturally,' said Professor Dumbledore, taking his wand out and tapping the silver instrument softly. The clicking noise slowed and died and the smoke roses grew faint, became a formless haze and vanished.

Professor Dumbledore picked the instrument up and replaced it upon its spindly table, next to several other curious silver instruments. Professor Dumbledore took a look at his reflection in the glass door of the closet behind the table, and sighed deeply.

A hand rapped quietly, but urgently on his office door, and the Professor retook his seat behind his claw-footed desk. He pressed his long fingers together and glanced at the glimmering back of the oak door.

'Come in.'

* * *

Her brown eyes shot open suddenly, and she sat up. The nightshirt she had been provided with was drenched in cold sweat, damp against her back. She tried to survey her surroundings, but in the dark of the night, it was impossible.

'It seems that you have finally awoken.'

Panicked, the girl turned to her right and left so quickly that she cricked her neck. Rubbing it gingerly, she looked around a little less wild. Her gaze came to rest at the person sitting comfortably on a stool at the foot of her bed.

The girl let out a sigh, her hand on her heart. 'Professor, you gave me a fright.'

Professor Dumbledore gave a small smile at this, holding his wand up a little higher. A small sliver of light fell upon the girl's face and her amber eyes stared up at his, seemingly comforted.

'What happened, sir? Why am I here?'

The Professor didn't seem to hear this, as he carefully lit the candle next to her bed with the tip of his wand. The girl followed his actions patiently, waiting for an answer. 'Sir?' she said after a while, when no answer came.

Albus Dumbledore extinguished his wand and looked up at her, his eyes twinkling. 'Actually, I'd like to know your name first.'

The girl looked up at him, paling slightly. 'Why, it's Hermione, sir. H – Hermione Granger.'

* * *

'Miss Puckle?'

Hermione's eyes fluttered. Her surroundings were white, and very blinding. She shut her eyes firmly again, not wanting to wake up at all.

'Miss Puckle? _Miss Puckle!'_

Hermione felt a sharp jab in her left and she gasped, her eyes flying open. Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, smiled down at her, her face hovering inches from Hermione's. In her left hand she was holding a smoking goblet. Hermione gulped.

'Why, I thought you'd never wake up! Drink up, dear.'

Hermione sat up and took the smoking goblet from the nurse, her hands trembling. She took a swig and nearly spat it out again. The potion, whatever it was, tasted extremely foul. She had to force it down with every sip that she took.

Madam Pomfrey smiled, and took the goblet from her. 'Now, Professor Dumbledore asked me to give you this. You will be escorted there by Professor McGonagall after lunch.'

She pressed a bright purple slip into Hermione's hand and walked towards the next bed attending a boy who seemed to have sprouted wings out of his shoulder blades.

Hermione looked down to the slip and studied it curiously. 'Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions,' it read, in glimmering silver letters, 'serves one.'


	3. The Trip to Diagon Alley

**Your Hidden Past**

The white curtains around her bed hid her from sight, while she carefully changed into the Ravenclaw robes Madam Pomfrey had given to her. As she was knotting her blue and silver tie, one of the curtains was suddenly pushed back.

Hermione looked up, surprised, halting in mid-knot. Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House and Professor in Transfiguration, studied her curiously. 'Jane Puckle?'

Hermione winced at the name. She wasn't exactly fond of it, and she wished, with a burning desire, that she had chosen another name for herself instead of this one. Surely, she could've just as easily picked something else.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and Hermione jumped. 'Right, sorry, that's me.'

Minerva McGonagall nodded curtly. 'I'm Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House and your Transfiguration teacher.'

Hermione smiled at her, finishing the knot in her tie. 'It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor.'

Minerva nodded again and pushed the white curtains away with a wave of her wand, revealing a white, clean and, above all, empty Hospital Wing. Hermione sat down on the bed, her hands in her lap.

Professor McGonagall took place on the bed across from her. 'Now, Miss Puckle, I will be taking you to Diagon Alley. With the slip given to you, you will be able to purchase a new robe set. Any questions?'

'How will we be getting there, Professor?'

'The Knight Bus.'

* * *

'Welcome to the Knight -'

'Thank you, Shunpike,' said Professor McGonagall swiftly. 'Go on -'

And she shoved Hermione forward a little bit, more towards the steps. The conductor stared at the Professor as she passed.

'Prof! Haven't seen you 'n ages!' said the man called Shunpike. Hermione studied him as she was ushered into a horribly mismatched reddish green chair, with yellow stars on it, by the Professor.

He looked exactly like the conductor she'd seen in fifth year, who then took her, Harry and Ron to Hogsmeade. McGonagall, herself, sat neatly on a pin-striped orange one chair. She gave the conductor a handful of silver sickles.

'We'd like to go to Diagon Alley, Shunpike.'

BANG.

Hermione toppled over for the umpteenth time, landing on her knees in front of the Professor, who looked slightly green.

The Knight Bus halted near a small, shabby-looking pub, called 'The Three Mates'. The tattered sign showed only a large pirate ship, and Hermione gave the Professor a searching look.

'Too many Muggles. We can't have them see us appear out of thin air, it would rouse too much suspicion.'

Hermione nodded. Bernard Shunpike helped McGonagall off the steps, pressed his lips to her hand, and clearly mistook her horrified look for something else.

He jumped up the stairs, winked at Hermione, who stood gaping, as the triple-decker, violently purple bus, disappeared with a tremendous BANG.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, grabbed her green bag and turned round to face Hermione. 'Now, dear, stay close. We're in a Muggle part of London, and from what I've heard; it's not very clean and civilised.'

* * *

'Why, Professor, I haven't seen you in a long time. Would you like a drink?' asked the barman pleasantly, grabbing a small, y-shaped glass, when he spotted McGonagall.

McGonagall shook her head and dragged Hermione out of the pub, towards the stone wall. She impatiently tapped her wand on the correct spots, and pulled Hermione through the entrance as soon as it had become big enough for them to climb through.

'Impossible!' she said angrily. 'Completely impossible!'

When Hermione gave her a surprised look, she straightened her green hat. 'Let's get on with it, Puckle; we need to be back before dinner.'

* * *

When Hermione had acquired a new set of robes from Madam Malkin's, and two heavy bags full of school books from Flourish and Blotts, they took the Knight Bus back to Hogsmeade.

Professor McGonagall didn't say much, but kept herself far away from Shunpike, who brightly told Hermione that he'd been to Hogwarts, too, and had just finished his last year there.

Hermione's answer was interrupted by an enormous BANG, and they found themselves slowly driving on the main street of Hogsmeade. The sky was filled with clouds, and thunder roared across their heads.

Without saying goodbye, McGonagall stood up swiftly and stepped out of the bus. Hermione grabbed the several heavy bags and hurried after her. Shunpike poked his head out of the bus as soon as she had stepped off the last step.

'Bye Prof! Take care of -'

Professor McGonagall gave him a stern look, and he faltered. He waved to Hermione, drew his head back, and disappeared along with the Knight Bus.

McGonagall was walking rather fast, and Hermione had to run to catch up with her. 'According to Professor Dumbledore, you have been sorted into Gryffindor house. I trust he explained you about the giant hourglasses?' And, before Hermione could answer, 'Your own robes have been stored in Professor Dumbledore's office.'

She glanced at her wrist-watch, which didn't have numbers on it. Instead of those, it had miniscule writings on it, saying things like 'Grading Time' and 'Check on Peeves'. Currently, it had a large silver hand pointing towards 'Dinner' and a smaller silver hand, underneath the first; to 'You're late.'

Professor McGonagall sighed, and didn't say anything else for the remaining part of the trip. When they reached the large front doors of the castle, she pushed against them and let Hermione in, immediately closing the door behind her.

She led Hermione towards the doors of the Hospital Wing, and turned around to face her. 'Best not to mention this trip, Puckle.'

Hermione nodded. 'Thank you, Professor.'

The Professor gave a curt nod, and disappeared out of sight. As if right on cue, Madam Pomfrey poked her head out of one of the Hospital Wing doors. 'Ah, Miss Puckle. Glad to have you back.'

She ushered Hermione inside and guided her towards her bed. Hermione's stomach growled, and she blushed. 'Oh, right, it's dinner time!' said Madam Pomfrey.

With a flick of her wand, the nightstand to Hermione's bed was filled with a small, white plate, filled with sandwiches, and a goblet. 'Have a nice dinner, dear.'

'Thank you,' said Hermione politely, as she placed her bags on the foot of her bed. Madam Pomfrey tapped her wand against the curtain rail, and they surrounded her bed once again.

When she had eaten enough (the plate kept refilling itself), Hermione leaned her head back and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

'Where do you reckon Minnie is, Prongs?' asked Sirius Black, when the seat next to Professor Dumbledore, which had always been for Professor McGonagall, wasn't filled.

'Dunno, Padfoot,' answered James Potter, shrugging. 'It's strange; she's never been late for dinner before.'

At that moment, Lily Evans slipped into the seat far away from James, and he took off to grab the seat next to her. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look, and Professor McGonagall and her strange absence from dinner that night, was forgotten.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'd like to thank everyone for reviewing.

Now, I won't tell much about what exactly is going to happen in this story, or who's going to fall in love with whom (if they are, that is), because it spoils the reading. However, this story will revolve about Hermione and one other person, that much can be told.


	4. A meeting with the Heads

**Your Hidden Past**

From what she could see out of the vast, ceiling high window in the Hospital Wing, today wasn't going to be a very cheerful day. The blue of the sky was entirely obscured by a grey curtain of clouds, which angrily let out their loads, turning the great, grassy lawn of the castle into a sloshy mess.

'I see we meet again, Miss Puckle.'

The voice startled Hermione a great deal. She swivelled round, her eyes wide, her heart seemingly beating out of her chest. She sighed in recognition when she saw who had come to visit her, however.

'Professor Dumbledore, sir, I hadn't expected you,' said Hermione as politely as she could, though she could feel a pang in her heart from seeing him so contently, so happy, when –

'I trust Professor McGonagall took you to Diagon Alley?' Professor Dumbledore interrupted her thoughts, and she nodded. 'Yes, sir, I do wish you would – I mean, I couldn't possibly let you pay for my clothes and books.'

Professor Dumbledore merely stroked his silver beard, and gave her an amused smile. 'Nonsense, Miss Puckle, the school has a fund for the students that are not able to purchase their needed school supplies.'

'Oh,' replied Hermione, feeling rather foolish. 'Thank you, Professor.'

Professor Dumbledore nodded, and continued to stroke his beard, as if it was a habit he'd recently acquired. 'Professor McGonagall will arrive in several seconds to show you around Gryffindor House and introduce you to your fellow classmates.'

He stood up and smoothed out his cloak which, Hermione now noticed, was a rather violent shade of turquoise. 'Do keep in mind Miss Puckle, if you are having any trouble –'

His sentence was cut off by the sudden appearance of Professor McGonagall, who marched into the Hospital Wing briskly, her green hat dangling rather lopsided on her bun.

She didn't seem at all surprised to find Dumbledore sitting with Hermione as she nodded in greeting, putting her hat on straight. Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder, gave Professor Dumbledore a smile, and followed the Professor out of the Hospital Wing.

* * *

'Afternoon,' said the portrait of the Fat Lady when they reached the common room. Hermione was glad to find her looking exactly the same as she had when she had hurriedly left to go to class two days ago.

'Nescio,' said Professor McGonagall promptly and the portrait swung aside to reveal a large hole leading to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione blinked, raising an eyebrow. What a very peculiar password.

'The password is chosen weekly by either the Head Boy or the Head Girl, who are both in Gryffindor this year,' said McGonagall, as they both clambered through the portrait hole. 'If you have any trouble with classes or a fellow classmate, for example, don't hesitate to ask for their help. Now, without further ado,–'

''Fraid James is on the Quidditch Pitch, Minnie,' said a voice from their right, and they both turned round. Sirius Black was sprawled over a fancy red arm chair, his legs dangling over the side, as he studied both of them intently.

Seeing him sitting there, alive and well, Hermione suddenly had to suppress the urge to go over there and hug him. This was certainly going to be strange.

'Black, how many times do I have to tell you _not_ to sit with your legs on an armchair?'

'Oh, Minnie,' grinned Sirius, winking saucily at her. 'You know that you love me.'

There was a faint hint of a blush on Professor McGonagall's cheeks, but she glowered at Sirius. 'Do you happen to know where Evans is?'

'Probably with James, scolding him for breaking some rule only she knows of,' said Sirius, shrugging.

Professor McGonagall sighed. 'All right, follow me, Puckle.'

'_Puckle_?' Sirius repeated sceptically, laughing. Both McGonagall and Hermione ignored him as they left the common room.

* * *

The rain had stopped, and one could now clearly seea red-robed figure zooming around the Quidditch Pitch.Even Hermione, who wasn't interested in Quidditch at all, had to say that the Head Boy flew very well. In fact, she was quite sure she'd seen that way of flying before...

'Potter!' barked McGonagall, and the figure immediately halted in mid-air, turning round. When he saw who it was, he speeded towards them, landing smoothly on the stands, slinging his broom over his shoulder.

Hermione bit down on her lip, hard, to stop herself from screaming. The boy in front of them was almost identical to Harry. Sure, his cheekbones seemed to be a bit different, and he had a slightly longer nose, but Hermione couldn't stop herself from shuddering.

'Potter, who's with – Professor? What are you doing here?' said a voice from behind Potter, who stepped aside to reveal a girl with auburn hair, and dazzling green eyes. _Harry's eyes_. Hermione's eyes quickly flitted back to Potter, who looked at her politely. There, hazel eyes. How –

'Potter, Evans, this is Jane Puckle. She's just transferred here from France, and she's in your house. Now, I expect you both to make her feel welcome, and show her around the school a little bit.'

'No problem, Professor.'


	5. Absent without leave

**Your Hidden Past**

'She's gone!'

This panicked shout echoed within the quiet circular Gryffindor common room, decorated in red and gold, the walls filled with half a dozen of portraits with occupants that all snoozed gently within their frames.

'Ginny checked. She isn't in the dorm. You checked the map, and there's no sign of her. Hermione's gone!'

A frantic red-haired boy, of about seventeen, paced over the hearthrug by the fireplace, while another boy his age, this one with messy jet-black hair, sat in one of the large arm chairs.

'She can't be gone,' said the boy with the messy hair, who went by the name of Harry Potter, rationally. 'She's probably in the Room of Requirement, or possibly just in Hogsmeade, doing some shopping – '

The boy with red hair narrowed his eyes. 'Why would she do such a thing, Harry? And why wouldn't she tell us?'

To this, Harry Potter did not have an answer, and he watched in silence as his red-haired companion, Ronald Weasley, continued to pace. Suddenly, he halted and turned to Harry, his face the colour of ash.

'Harry, what if he's got her?'

* * *

'This is no time for you to just stand there! _Move!_'

Ronald Weasley did not seem to realise that however much he shouted, the stone gargoyle guarding the office would continue to sit there, unmoving, until the correct password was given.

Fate decided to be generous to Ronald, however, and the stone gargoyle hopped aside as the wall behind it began to split in two, revealing a spiral staircase that was smoothly moving upwards.

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley quickly stepped onto the spiral staircase, and Ron gave a small shudder when the wall closed itself again behind them. Up and up, higher and higher they went until, at long last, they reached a familiar oak door, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffon.

Harry reached out towards it, but Ron was ahead of him, and simply pushed the door open. Harry gave Ron a look, which Ron pointedly ignored, as he marched into the office. Ronald Weasley had never been one for patience, especially not when someone he cared for deeply was in danger.

'Professor! It's Hermione! She's disappeared!'

Minerva McGonagall looked up from a high stack of paperwork, her eyes quickly narrowing behind her square glasses.

'Are you absolutely sure about this, Mr. Weasley?'

'Of course I am!' snapped Ron. 'We were supposed to leave tomorrow for Brighton, but Hermione had insisted on following Binns' class one more time, Merlin knows why, and now she's gone!'

Professor McGonagall frowned, and she gestured for both boys to sit, which they did. 'When was the last time you saw her?'

'When she left for class this morning,' Harry told her. Ron nodded his assent.

'Did Miss Granger join you for breakfast?'

'Yes,' Harry said. Ron nodded again.

The Professor's frown deepened. 'Are you quite sure she isn't up in her dormitory?'

'Ginny checked for us, she isn't.'

Minerva McGonagall fell silent, and Ron watched her anxiously.

'We – we think You-Know-Who's got her.'

'Don't talk nonsense, Mr. Weasley,' barked McGonagall. 'You-Know-Who cannot enter school premises. We made sure of that last year.'

Ron shut his mouth, but didn't seem satisfied. Harry seemed to be in a similar state, and the Headmistress sighed deeply, and cleared her throat.

'I shall notify the Order.'

* * *

It surely wasn't comfortable, Hermione decided, to sit at the Gryffindor table. Normally, she wouldn't have minded. She would've sat there quietly, eating an apple or two, or perhaps reading a book, like _Hogwarts: A History_. Today, however, she did nothing of the sort.

The Gryffindors, especially those in fourth year and above, all seemed to have noticed there was a new student amongst them, and some were openly staring at her, while others just shot her puzzled looks. It was making Hermione distinctly uncomfortable.

She had received her timetable from a burly fifth year a while ago, and she noticed she had Double Potions first. She thought of going towards the dungeons early, and made a move to get up, but remembered at the last moment that she wasn't supposed to know where those things were.

Looking around, she spotted a familiar red-haired girl entering the Great Hall, and she quickly rose (she wasn't about to sit down again, for she was sure it would make her look faintly ridiculous). Lily Evans smiled as she walked over.

'I need to get to class, but I don't know where to – '

Hermione tailed off, showing Lily her timetable. Lily simply smiled. 'Potions is always given in the dungeons. If you wait here for a moment, I'll take you there.'

After her breakfast, Lily escorted Hermione towards the dungeons, saying things like, 'You can best go left here, it's shorter,' and 'Watch out for that staircase, it likes to change.' They reached the Potions classroom with nearly five minutes to spare, and the larger part of the class was already standing there.

James Potter gave her a smile as she and Lily moved to stand next to him, and Hermione returned it, somewhat gratefully. Hermione was still clutching her timetable, and she meant to put it back in her bag. Before she could, it was snatched out of her hands.

'Got into Potions then, too, Puckle?' said a pleasant voice, and Hermione heard Lily sigh next to her.

'I'd rather you'd give me that back,' said Hermione coolly.

Sirius Black grinned down at her. 'Arw, come on, Puckle, don't be like Evans.'

Lily snatched it back out of his hands, and Hermione gave her a grateful smile, and tucked the timetable safely in her bag. Sirius simply shrugged, and stood next to James, who looked a bit annoyed.

The bell rang, and the classroom door opened. As Lily led her inside, Hermione heard Sirius say 'Keep your knickers on, Prongs, she won't like you any less.'

The dungeons were darker than Hermione could ever remember them to be, and there were a few odd vapours and smells present. When Hermione gave Lily a look, Lily simply shrugged, and sat down near the front, pulling Hermione with her. Hermione wasn't sure whether to be relieved by the fact that James and Sirius went to sit behind her, or frightened.

'Now then, now then,' said Professor Slughorn importantly, and his moustache curved above his smiling mouth when he noticed Lily sitting so close at the front. 'Kits out, copies of your _Advanced Potion-Making _also, on page 113, like we did last year... '

Hermione took out the _Advanced Potion-Making _she'd bought in Diagon Alley with McGonagall, and suddenly had to repress the urge to go over where Snape was sitting a few feet away to strangle him.

'We will be making Amortentia today. Can anyone tell me what it is?'

Hermione's hand shot in the air, but Lily's also did, and Slughorn turned to her, look extraordinarily pleased. 'Miss Evans?'

'It's the most powerful love potion known to wizard kind,' said Lily promptly. 'It is easily recognisable because of its mother-of-pearl sheen and the strange, spiralling pattern of the steam.'

Slughorn beamed, and Hermione lowered her hand. Behind her, she heard James sigh. Slughorn seemed not to have noticed. 'And what about to smell?'

Hermione's hand rose again, as did Lily's, but Sirius' accompanied theirs. Slughorn looked shocked, but nodded to him. 'It smells differently to each and every wizard, according to what we find attractive,' Sirius told him, and Slughorn looked even more shocked.

'Correct. Both you and Miss Evans take five points for Gryffindor.' Everyone, except for Professor Slughorn, had by then discovered Sirius had read this off the description the book gave off the potion. Snape, from where he was sitting, shot Sirius a venomous look, to which Sirius only grinned.

'By turning to page thirty of your books, you will find your instructions. Ingredients, might you need any extra, can be found in the Potions cabinet. Off you go!'

Fifty minutes into the class, when Hermione and Lily's potions had both taken on a perfect shade of grey, while Sirius' and James' were murky brown and violent magenta respectively, and Slughorn had called them all to a halt to let them see how perfect the potion of one of the Slytherins was, the door suddenly fell open, and a tiny boy scuttled in.

'S – Sorry I'm late, Professor,' squeaked the boy. Slughorn glared at him, and wordlessly pointed to the seat next to Snape.

'Can't I sit next to James?' the boy squeaked again, and Hermione started to find his squeaking a bit annoying.

'You will sit next to Mr. Snape,' said Slughorn menacingly, and the boy fell silent and sat down next to Snape, who didn't seem to be very pleased with the recent change in the seating arrangements.

'Now, as you can see,' continued Slughorn, 'the potion Wilkes has brewed here is a perfect – what is it now, Pemflew?'

'What kind of Potion are we making, sir?' squeaked the boy. He either couldn't talk normally, or he was quite frightened. Hermione thought it to be the latter, and suddenly felt a surge of warmth for the boy. He reminded her of Neville.

'Amortentia,' snapped Slughorn. The boy quickly took out his battered copy of _Advanced Potion-Making _and started to work on his potion, while Slughorn continued to praise work of several Slytherins, and Lily. Near the end of the lesson, he halted next to Hermione, a curious expression on his face.

'And who might you be, girl?'

'Jane Puckle, sir,' said Hermione, after nearly blurting out her real name. Professor Slughorn bent over her desk to inspect her potion, something which was made quite difficult by his large belly, and nodded. 'New, I suppose?' he asked, stirring the potion slightly with his wand, seemingly satisfied when it didn't do anything.

'Yes, sir,' answered Hermione, and Slughorn nodded again. He didn't say anything to her the remainder of the lesson, but when they all had to hand in a flask of their potion at his desk, he gave Hermione a somewhat strained smile.

* * *

After Lunch, both Lily and Hermione had Arithmancy, and Hermione was surprised to find that it was given by Professor Vector, though she did look quite a lot younger, and more energetic.

'Good afternoon, class. Page ninety-four.'

Hermione opened her book to the assigned page, and watched Lily do the same. A couple of rows in front of them, a boy raised his hand.

'Yes?'

'I'm afraid my copy is still in the dormitory, Professor.' He did sound sincerely sorry, but his hand kept twitching, which Hermione found a bit odd.

'Oh, dear. Well, then, I'm sure your neighbour wouldn't mind sharing his copy with you,' said the Professor, nodding to the taller Hufflepuff boy that was sitting at the same desk as he was. The boy shrugged, and shoved his book to the middle, so that the boy who'd forgotten his book could look at it as well.

'Who's that?' whispered Hermione to Lily, who had been checking her bag for something.

'Who?' asked Lily, looking up from her bag in an irritated manner. Hermione pointed to the front row, towards the boy who'd forgotten his book.

'That's Edward McMillan,' said Lily, before returning to her bag. Hermione studied the boy's light brown hair, feeling quite sure that she'd heard that name before.

'Of course!' said Hermione, more loudly than she intended, suddenly remembering there was a Hufflepuff in her year that had the same surname.

The boys both had looked around at her, as had the rest of the class. Professor Vector looked faintly amused. 'What is it, dear?'

'N – Nothing, Professor.'

The boy on the right, who'd forgotten his book, was looking at her with interest, and Hermione blinked at him before staring down at her notes again.

* * *

The Order of the Phoenix had relocated, and number 12, Grimmauld Place, had fallen into despair. The rooms that had been cleaned out were slowly becoming infested with dark creatures again, dust crept into ever nook and cranny it could find, and Kreacher wondered about, muttering darkly under his breath.

Remus Lupin had, of course, known happier places, and happier times. The cracked ceiling of the study he was sitting in leaked water into his tea, but he hardly noticed. An old copy of the _Evening Standard _was lying abandoned on his lap, when, quite suddenly, his head began to ache.

Blood that would've normally run down his body, rushed back to his head, and he felt hot and cold together. His pupils grew bigger, forcing the colour out of his eyes. He faintly remembered thinking this was certainly something he'd never experienced before.

* * *

'Nothing, absolutely _nothing_!'

Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter had not left the office of the Headmistress, and Lunch had just passed. Ron had hit the table in frustration, and Professor McGonagall was about to snap at him for doing so (it was a very valuable desk), when the fireplace lit itself up suddenly.

The head of Remus Lupin appeared in it, and he didn't even look remotely surprised to find both Harry and Ron there. Minerva McGonagall rounded him as he croaked out her name.

'Yes, Remus?'

Ron and Harry were both leaning forward, anxious to hear if there was any news on Hermione, who'd been missing for nearly five hours.

'I know where she is.'

Ron whooped his fist into the air, and Harry and Professor McGonagall looked relieved. At least they'd found her.

Expecting the worst, Harry softly asked, 'Where is she, Professor?'

Remus turned to them, surprised, as if he'd only just noticed them. 'Harry, Ron, I think it's best if I had a private word with the Headmistress.'

Harry and Ron immediately started to protest, but McGonagall shushed them. 'Potter, Weasley, return to your dormitories. I shall come down and speak with you soon.'

Ron muttered darkly under his breath and got up, shoving his chair back against the wood with a nasty scraping sound. He glared at Remus in the fire, and stormed out. Harry followed suit, albeit a bit more quietly, but halted by the door, and rounded the fire again.

'We'll find out, you know,' he said.

He'd already closed the door when Remus gave a soft, 'That's what I'm afraid of, Harry.'

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone who left a review. To answer a burning question; Puckle was Jo Rowling's original surname for Hermione.

This chapter was noticeably longer, and you might even expect them to be even longer in the future, if time permits it, of course.

_Disclaimer (applies to all chapters): Harry Potter belongs to Jo Rowling. I do not claim to own him, or any other character in the book. The plot to this story, however, belongs to me._


	6. The Woes of Wodan

**Your Hidden Past**

'Jane,' said a soft, kind voice. 'Jane, really, you have to wake – '

The girl called Jane had sat up in her bed in a daze, rubbing her left eye, and letting out a groan that indicated she was awake, and listening, though perhaps not very attentively.

'Oh, good morning,' said the soft voice pleasantly. 'We always go down for breakfast at half past; I thought you might want to accompany us.'

The girl nodded vaguely, now rubbing both her eyes, and the owner of the soft voice left her alone in her red four-poster bed, shutting the curtains behind her.

Even though Hermione usually took delight in rising early, seeing the sunset, or doing some homework, today was different. What she wanted to do now, more than anything, was to crawl back in, and sleep well into the day.

Seven minutes later, she was ready to go to the Great Hall.

* * *

After breakfast, Hermione had Ancient Runes, while Lily had Care of Magical Creatures. Lily was desperately trying to explain to Hermione how to get there, since it was in a classroom Hermione didn't know, but Hermione also didn't know half of the passageways and corridors Lily was describing, and ended up being wholly and utterly confused.

'So, right and then left, and then straight up, then left again?'

'No, no, no!' Lily cut in, waving her hands in distress. 'You go right, then left, then right, then straight up, and then left, and then – '

Sirius Black, who was walking behind them, seemed to be fed up with their discussion, and ended it with an 'Oh, don't bother, Evans. I'll take you there, Puckle.'

'Really?' asked Hermione, turning. Lily smiled gratefully at him, which he didn't even seem to notice, and ran off in the opposite direction.

True to his word, Sirius brought Hermione to the classroom in no time at all (her head spun when she tried to remember all the shortcuts they'd taken), and disappeared.

For a minute, Hermione panicked, and feared he'd brought her to the other side of the castle to get her lost, as a joke, but when she opened the door, there were several students she recognised to be Gryffindors.

'Er, is this Ancient Runes?' she asked a nearby Ravenclaw, just to be certain.

'No, you're in the kitchens,' someone from the back shouted, obviously trying to be funny. Hermione ignored him.

The Ravenclaw boy rolled his eyes, and then grinned at her. 'Don't mind him, he's an idiot. Yes, this is Ancient Runes. You can sit by me if you'd like.'

'That would be lovely, thanks,' said Hermione, taking a seat next to him and taking out the needed supplies.

'Say, are you new? I don't recognise you,' said the Ravenclaw after a while, and Hermione nodded. She was about to introduce herself, when a weary-looking teacher entered the classroom.

'Right then,' he croaked, and the class fell silent. 'We'll be doing some stuff yester – I mean, today, about some stuff we did tod – I mean yesterday, obviously. Go on, then.'

He took a seat, propped his feet onto the desk, snuggled deeper into his chair, and promptly fell asleep. Hermione stared.

'Is this some sort of joke?'

'No,' said the boy next to her. 'He does that every lesson.'

'You mean to say, you haven't had a decent Ancient Runes class ever?'

'Well, no,' said the boy, shrugging. 'The Professor's brilliant, really sharp, but he usually sleeps during the lesson. He expects you to keep up with everything, and you can come to him if you have any questions.'

'Honestly,' sniffed Hermione disdainfully. 'Where were you, then?'

The boy took out a book with strange scribblings on the front, and opened it somewhere in the middle. 'Chapter thirteen, here,' he laid it out in front of her, and Hermione looked outraged.

'Sir!' she said loudly. The chattering in the classroom died down, as the Professor simply rolled over in his chair. 'Professor!' she persisted, even louder.

The Professor snorted awake, crankily mumbling, ''S matter?'

'I've already finished this book in my third year. We were starting Odin's work,' said Hermione. The Professor cracked one eye open to see who was talking to him, muttered something about meddlesome students, and then straightened himself.

'Look, Miss Puckle,' he said, yawning. 'This isn't Beauxbatons, this is Hogwarts. Here, we do this book. Because we don't want you to do it all over again, you were asked to purchase that book. You can start on page one.'

Before Hermione could say anything, he'd fallen asleep again. Hermione stared at him for a while longer, and then blinked down at her work. The boy next to her laughed, a very pleasant laugh, that made Hermione smile, too.

'You'll have to forgive him,' the boy said, taking his book off her table again. 'He acts like that every once in a while. Have you really done this book already?'

She nodded, and he smiled at her. 'Me too. It's easy, isn't it?'

'Yes,' said Hermione, relieved. 'I thought I was the only one who noticed, but it keeps on repeating – '

'Raido,' they finished at the same time, and Hermione laughed.

'I'm Richard Davies,' said the boy, holding out a hand.

'Jane Puckle,' Hermione said, shaking it. 'Pleasure to meet you.'

* * *

Ancient Runes was followed by Muggle studies, a class she also shared with Richard Davies. When the bell rang, Richard walked with her to the Great Hall, discussing their lesson about electricity all the while.

'Jane, it's unnecessary,' he told her sharply, as they rounded the corner.

'Of course it isn't!' Hermione replied. 'Electricity is what Muggles use to power almost everything.'

'Which is exactly my point,' said Richard triumphantly. 'What if they have a power outage? They'll be left with nothing!'

'There you are, Jane,' Lily's voice drifted over from the gigantic staircase next to the Great Hall, and Hermione grinned. Lily waved, and then hurried down.

'Oh, hello, Richard,' said Lily pleasantly, when she spotted him. 'How are you?' Without really waiting for him to answer, she barged on, 'Good, good. You won't mind me borrowing Jane for a bit, will you?'

Richard shook his head. 'No, I don't mind at all.'

Lily gave him a smile, and then grabbed Hermione by the arm. 'Thanks. Don't forget your patrol on Thursday. You've to go with Elsie,' she added, as they turned. When she looked over her shoulder, Hermione thought she saw Richard look crestfallen for a moment.

* * *

The rest of that week, and the one following that, weren't really that spectacular to Hermione. She shared all of her classes with Lily, except for Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies, which she shared with Richard, who turned out to be a pleasantly good conversationalist and a star at Ancient Runes.

It was at the end of an almost dizzyingly hot Friday afternoon, near four, when most of the students were lounging near the lake or in their common room, thinking of the silver tankards filled with Butterbeer served at The Three Broomsticks, and desperately whishing for autumn to return, that Hermione received a surprise.

If they studied in the library, Hermione and Lily always took a table near the back of the Charms aisle. It was circular, painted a deep mahogany, and large enough for the both of them (and, occasionally, Richard) to study at.

When they arrived that Friday afternoon, frantically discussing the Charms lesson of the day wherein Professor Flitwick had explained about the wandless conjuring they would be asked to do at their NEWTs examinations, they found it already occupied.

A large, leather-bound novel, titled _Fog or Foe: How to Bewitch the Crystal Ball_, was hiding someone from their view entirely, and Lily and Hermione shared a look.

'Er, excuse me?' said Lily.

The reader of the book jumped slightly, then lowered it to look over the gold-trimmed rim to the speaker. His eyes were a strange, familiar shade of blue, and Hermione frowned in thought.

Lily seemed to recognise the reader, however. 'Hi! I didn't know you were back yet!' she exclaimed, ecstatically.

The boy was alarmingly pale, but when he returned Lily's grin, he didn't seem at all sad, or ill. He seemed – he seemed almost _happy_.

'I just arrived an hour ago,' said the boy. Lily grinned again as she sat down next to him, and they began discussing the book, which was now lying abandoned on the table, and his sick grandmother, who he had been apparently visiting, in earnest.

Hermione, still in thought, sunk down into her chair, and began on the monstrous Potions essay Professor Slughorn had assigned them, which was to be handed in on that following Thursday.

Twenty minutes later, when Hermione returned to the table with a book from the Potions section she'd wanted to use for her essay, Sirius was standing at the table, along with James, and they were talking to Lily in rapid, hushed tones.

Hermione came nearer, just as Sirius was solemnly saying, 'We've come to collect our moony.'

Lily didn't look like she understood, and raised her eyebrows in a quizzical manner. 'You've come to what?'

'Collect our moony,' repeated Sirius slowly, as if talking to a five-year-old.

'We don't have your moony,' repeated Lily slowly, imitating his tone.

The boy who was sitting next to Lily seemed to find this all very amusing, and looked at James and Sirius with polite interest over the rim of his book.

James was now arguing with Lily about something - perhaps the "moony" Sirius kept going on about, perhaps not - which left Sirius free to make a hand gesture at her which looked to be a half-wave.

'Hello, Black,' said Hermione softly, sliding back into her seat. The boy looked up from his book, surprised. He stared at Hermione for a few moments, then, as if only just realising what he was doing, quickly looked down to his book again.

'I don't care!' Lily snapped at James, her hands on her hips. 'It's not even respectable to strut into the –'

'I didn't strut!' James cut her off, crossing his arms over his chest. 'I walked perfectly –'

'And, then, act if _I'm_ an idiot, which is completely –' Lily continued, not having heard him.

'Oh, don't you dare, I _didn't _–'

Sirius was muttering, 'They do this every time' under his breath, but he didn't seem at all put off by it. He looked more amused than anything. However, the boy with the book said softly, without even looking up, 'That's enough.'

Lily and James stopped quarrelling to look at him. He calmly put his book into his bag, and Sirius jumped up, eagerly saying, 'You're coming with us? Are you, are you?'

The boy rolled his eyes, and stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He looked over at Hermione, who quickly pretended to be very interested in her essay, her cheeks faintly pink.

'Yes, I'll come,' he said. 'But only,' he added, when Sirius looked as if he could kiss him, 'if you let me know who you are first.'

Everyone fell silent as Hermione, who'd turned back to her normal colour, looked up from her essay and said, in a clear voice, 'Jane Puckle.'

He looked puzzled for a moment, but then he looked at Sirius, who was nodding. 'I'm Remus Lupin.'

'P – Professor?' Hermione blurted out, frowning, before she could stop herself.

James looked faintly alarmed. 'Oh, no, you didn't spot her, did you?'

'Er, no, she walked past, but I saw her,' said Hermione, using his alarm to her advantage while she mentally berated herself for letting something slip.

'Thank Merlin,' exclaimed James. 'Look, Evans, we'll just borrow Remus for a bit, sure you won't mind –' and they disappeared before either Hermione or Lily could say a word.

* * *

Later that evening, after saying goodnight to Lily and dressing in her nightgown, Hermione stared up at the canopy of her four-poster bed, seemingly lost in thought. How could she possibly have forgotten such a thing?

'I don't know,' she said softly to herself. The last time she'd seen her former Professor was at Kings' Cross Station, and he hadn't nearly looked as happy and carefree and handsome as he had now.

_You can't blame him;_ a swotty voice in the back of her head said to her, not too kindly, _none of his friends have died yet._

Oh god. How was she ever going to go through with this?

* * *

'Something the matter, Remus?' a kind, cheerful female voice asked.

'No, nothing, Nymphadora,' the man called Remus answered, shaking himself, and then returning to his dinner.

'You know I hate it when you call me that,' said his female companion, pretending to look awfully annoyed.

He gave her a weak smile. 'Sorry. I like your name, though.'

A woman with shockingly pink curls and glittering orange robes grinned broadly at him. 'You and my mum seemed to hit off particularly well.'

Remus turned pink. 'I – well –' he stammered.

Nymphadora Tonks, the woman that was sitting across from him, looked even more amused. 'Ah, Remus, it seems that I've found your weak spot – you loved my mother all along –'

While his female companion prattled on about her mother and him sharing the same interests in lots of things, Remus suddenly received a blearing headache, and he grabbed his head, his knife clattering down on his plate with such force, a bit of porcelain sprung off into darkness.

'Remus? Are you all right?'

The voice seemed to come from far, far away, and Remus had a feeling of falling into nothing, into a transparent haze, while he faintly heard a voice talking to him, calling out his name ...

As suddenly as it had appeared, the feeling of being hot and cold at the same time vanished into nothingness, leaving a shaking Remus.

'Remus? Are you sure you're OK?' said Nymphadora Tonks, now sounding a lot less playful. Her face had gone pale, and Remus looked at her, confusion clouding his eyes.

'Yes, yes, fine,' he said, after a moment of silence, as he retrieved his knife from where it'd fallen on his plate, and waving his wand to repair it. 'Sorry.'

Nymphadora let out a sigh of relief, and then shook her head. 'You scared me for a moment there. What happened?'

'Nothing. Just memories,' said Remus, not untruthfully, and Tonks reached out and settled her hand on his shaking one on the table.

'It's all right. I know you miss him.'

'Yeah. I miss him,' said Remus softly, remembering the beautiful, radiant face of a girlwho had nothing to do with Sirius Black, and wondering how on earth he was ever going to tell Nymphadora about her.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Thanks to everyone for reviewing. If you were signed in when you reviewed, I'll be able to send you a reply.

The rune _Raido_ is part of the ancient magical rune alphabet, and a variety of meanings have been ascribed to it, including (but probably not limited to) journey, cartwheel, long journey on horseback and a chariot, or cart.

_Odin_ or _Wodan_ is the Norse god for war and death, but also the god of poetry and wisdom. Legend holds it that he hung for nine days, pierced by his own sphere, on the world tree, during which time he was said to have invented eighteen runes and nine powerful songs.

Odin has only one eye, which blazes like the sun. He traded his other eye for a drink from the Well of Wisdom, granting him immense knowledge. On the day of the final battle, Odin was killed by the terrible monster wolf Fenrir.


	7. Practice Makes Perfect

**Your Hidden Past**

Silently, the wind moved across the trees, rustling the many dark green leaves as it blew through, creating an eerie sound that sounded much like a flock of ghosts, the one that had joined Harry, Ron and herself at Sir Nicholas' Death Day party.

She'd been lying awake for several hours now, not being able to fall asleep; remembering and missing her friends. Her back arched in a nearly impossible way, a small, frustrated sound leaving her lips. She needed sleep. She needed to go back home.

What were Ron and Harry doing? Would they miss her? Would they – and – oh, no. They were supposed to leave for Brighton. Had they left already? Would they manage to navigate through that city, with neither of them ever having set foot near it?

Her mind spun with the questions that whirred through it, seemingly non-stop, and she decided that, perhaps tonight, sleep would not come.

She occupied the time until breakfast by reading through her Ancient Runes book, yet again.

* * *

'Good weather for Quidditch,' said James, holding up a finger in the air, when Hermione and Lily took a seat at the full Gryffindor table.

'Potter, you're a prat,' Lily answered, by way of greeting, as she leant over to retrieve the marmalade from where it stood next to the tiny boy Hermione'd seen in Potions the other day.

'I love you too, Lily,' James said, in an annoying sing-song voice, before turning to the pale boy. 'You do have the banners ready, don't you, Wormtail? It simply wouldn't do to have you forget them again –'

Hermione, suddenly wide awake, cut his sentence short with a sharp, 'Wormtail?'

Lily turned to her, putting a hand in front of her mouth before swallowing. 'Wormtail,' she confirmed, putting down her toast. 'There are four boys in Gryffindor who call themselves the –'

'Marauders!' came a dramatic voice from their right. 'Today, we shall conquer! We shall – well, not divide, obviously – but we shall beat those Ravenclaws by four-hundred and twenty points!'

'Marauders,' continued Lily, pretending to not have heard Sirius' exclamation, 'They're James Potter, who you know, Sirius Black, who is the idiot who just stood on a bench, Peter Pettigrew, who is sitting next to me – he's Wormtail – and –'

'Sirius,' an amused voice said from behind Hermione, 'I know that you like to publically proclaim the score before a foot has been set on the pitch, but keep it down, will you? Wouldn't want to give you detention.'

'Oh, Moony,' sighed Sirius, theatrically, putting a hand to his chest. 'Making sexual implications so early in the morning? We haven't even told James about us, yet!'

'Told me about what?' James asked, looking up at Sirius from where he had been trying to stare down Lily's top.

'About me and Moony being in love with each other, you berk,' said Sirius, pretending to be annoyed, elbowing James in the side.

'What?'

There was a soft laugh that came from behind her, as Remus Lupin slid into the seat next to her, calmly taking some toast out of the toast rack and buttering it. Hermione stared at him, curiously.

'Some people wondered about, ah, Sirius' preferences,' Lily whispered softly.

'Preferences?'

'Sexual preferences, Puckle, m'dear,' Sirius cut in, not even trying to be discreet about the fact that he had been listening in on their conversation.

Hermione flushed. This seemed to satisfy Sirius, and he returned to his conversation with James.

'Oh, don't worry, he isn't always like that,' Lily insisted.

The same soft laugh tickled her ear as she found Remus leaning over to give Lily a look. 'Yes, he is.'

But Hermione wasn't listening; not anymore. Wormtail. Wormtail meant Peter Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew meant betraying everyone sitting around her, laughing gleefully, in three years time.

Peter Pettigrew meant death.

* * *

'But, Professor, it is _vital _that this information should be heard by you, it cannot – I will not let it ruin their world, nor mine!'

'Miss Puckle.' Professor Dumbledore's tone was soft, but demanding and Hermione turned to him, breathing heavily, her mouth set in a firm line.

'I do not want you to inform me of any matters that will arise in the future.' He held up a hand to silence Hermione's angry retort, and she started pacing again. 'These matters shall be dealt with when they arise, and I will not have them be settled with use of information supplied by you.'

'Professor, with all due respect, you are not willing to hear something that will change the course of history for the better – a history that now will, ultimately, claim over a million innocent lives by the hands of one wizard.'

'Voldemort,' interrupted Professor Dumbledore calmly, and Hermione froze, her breath catching in her throat as she turned around to face him again, sitting majestically in a high chair behind his desk.

'I do believe, Miss Puckle, that a game of Quidditch is starting at the school Quidditch pitch any moment now. Miss Evans would be most disappointed not to find you there, cheering your house on. Interesting thing, Quidditch.'

And with that, Hermione's conversation with the Headmaster was over, and she had achieved nothing.

* * *

She was still in a foul mood as she stomped over to the Quidditch pitch, fists clenched, not bothering to notice the mud that was splattering in every possible way (successfully dirtying her robes) every time her shoes hit the earth.

'There you are, Jane!'

To Hermione's surprise, when she looked up she didn't find Lily waiting for her in front of the stadium, but Richard Davies, dressed from head to toe in blue and silver, giving her a small grin.

'Richard,' Hermione managed, dazed. 'What are you doing here?'

'Evans had to go off into the locker rooms – something to do with Potter, probably – and she asked me to wait here for you, so that I could show you where to sit to have the best view.'

'Oh, really? And where is this 'best view' you speak of?'

Richard grinned mischievously. 'The commentator's box.'

* * *

'And they're off! Potter – pass to Johnson – Wood, Potter, Johnson – ouch, that must've hurt – and a brilliant save by Ravenclaw keeper – you go, Mark!'

Richard had been right; the view from the commentator's box was magnificent. She could see the whole pitch, Hogwarts looming over it threateningly in the back, and all of the stands (with distaste, she found that the Slytherin one was next to hers, and Snape kept sneaking glances at her). Richard, himself, was commentating, and Hermione returned her attention to the match when she heard him muffle a curse.

Gryffindor had scored again. It was for the twenty-seventh time, and it looked like Sirius' prediction might come true after all, if the ferventness of James and the other two Chasers was anything to go by. Sirius, himself, was looking at ease on his broom, swinging his bat effortlessly towards the Ravenclaw Chaser, cutting off his way to the goal.

'– dropped the Quaffle! Such a pity, that is. Oh, we're back to Wood – Johnson – Potter – Johnson – what is that glittering near the goal posts? Could it be the Snitch?'

'It's not, don't fall for it!' Hermione shouted, before she could stop herself, letting down her binoculars.

The Gryffindor Seeker, who had been hovering dangerously close to the commentator's box, flashed a grin at her before putting his finger to his lips, and winking. Hermione blinked for a moment, before she saw him swoop down, and catch the struggling Golden Snitch in his hands.

Sirius' roar of 'I KNEW IT!' somehow managed to echo over the entire pitch.

* * *

'Thanks, Richard, I had a lovely time.'

Richard gave her a half-grin, rubbing his neck. 'Ah, it was nothing, really. Glad you liked it.'

'You didn't tell me you commentated on the matches.'

'Usually don't. 'M the captain of the team, actually. But I broke my leg two weeks ago and Madam Pomfrey says it's not safe for me to fly for a few more weeks, so I handed the badge over to the Ravenclaw Keeper until I can.'

'That most be horrible for you,' said Hermione sympathetically, giving him a small smile.

'No, 's all right, really.'

At Hermione's raised eyebrow and amused smile, he gave in. 'It's horrible. Complete and utter torture. I can't even go to practice and comment, because Madam Hooch knows and keeps kicking me off the pitch, talking about giving me a life-long ban if I try again.'

Hermione let out a laugh, and Richard grinned guiltily. Silence fell as they trudged back up to the castle, the last rays of sun casting a flimsy light over the top of the massive trees in the Forbidden Forest. When they reached the main staircase of the castle, Richard turned to Hermione.

'D'you – d'you reckon we could do this again sometime?'

'Sit in a commentator's box at Quidditch match?' teased Hermione. 'Sure, why not?'

'No, no, not at a Quidditch match,' said Richard, not catching on, 'I meant – I meant you and me. Sometime. Alone.'

'In a commentator's box?' added Hermione innocently, deliberately misunderstanding.

'No,' said Richard, sighing and frowning, probably trying to think of a way in which she would understand that he would like to –

'I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with you sometime. As friends,' said Hermione, smiling and kissing him on the cheek, before turning around and hurrying up the stairs, to the party that was undoubtedly going on in the tower, celebrating the Gryffindor victory.

Richard was left standing miserably at the bottom of the stairs, one hand to his rapidly warming cheek. 'But I didn't mean as friends,' he murmured softly, sighing again and heading towards the Ravenclaw common room.

* * *

James, in a typical James fashion, managed to get a raging hangover, and refused to come out of bed when Peter attempted to get him up the next day.

'Potter, m'boy!'

With a giant leap that wasn't entirely human, Sirius managed to get onto James' bed, and he started bouncing up and down (the ceiling of James' four-poster bed was lying abandoned in a corner of the common room, though no one could tell exactly how it had gotten there) James' mattress.

'Time to get up now! Water the flowers! Woo an Evans or two!'

Sirius pretended not to hear the angry, 'I heard that!' by Lily, two dormitories down (Evans always seemed to hear things when it concerned her and Potter, just like James always seemed to hear and see everything when it came to Lily) as James let out a groan.

'G'way!' James muttered, before burrowing his face in his pillow, and pulling the sheets over his head to block the daylight out.

'Can't do that, sorry, Prongs.'

'Usgshw eshsdfse!'

'No, I'm not going to marry the Giant Squid, now get up, you great lump.'

'ERWfisdo fsdfsd'sdgfs!'

'James, even Snape's mum doesn't do things like that. You're going to get out of bed, and you're going to drink the potion the nice Moony brew for you.'

'Sadsh?'

'Yes, potion. Hangover Potion. You know how brilliant Remus is at Potions.'

'Ukss gdse!'

'Yes, we know Evans is, too. Prongs, don't make me wake you up.'

With a frustrated sigh, James Potter stood up, and put a hand to his forehead. 'I'm floating,' he murmured, darkly.

'Floating?' Sirius repeated, amused.

'Yes, and you'll be too, if you don't give me that Potion within the next second.'

The tap in the bathroom was shut, and Remus poked a dripping head around the door. 'Got Prongs to wake up, did you?' he asked Sirius.

Sirius nodded, while James only glared at what he apparently thought was Sirius (but what turned out to be more of Peter's curtains and less of Sirius), and repeated, 'Floating. Floating. Not good, oh god,' under his breath.

Remus grinned, and meant to turn around. James protested with a loud whine, and Remus frowned. 'What's the matter?'

'Hangover Potion!' James said, moving his fists up and down and stomping his foot on the floor for good measure. Sirius suddenly, very stealthily, began to sneak over to the door.

'I don't have a Hangover Potion,' answered Remus, frowning, 'Sirius used all of that last time, when we were celebrating Marauders-Love-Skimpy-Skirts-Day.'

'PADFOOT!'

* * *

Defence against the Dark Arts, Hermione's first class of the day, was shared with a whole lot of Gryffindors, five Ravenclaws, four Hufflepuffs, and Snape, who sat broodingly on the front row, glaring at the top of the Professor's desk as if it had insulted him in every possible way.

To Hermione's surprise, neither James nor Sirius appeared when the bell rang (this seemed to cause no concern to the rest of the class), and instead of sitting next to Sirius, she was now seated next to Remus. Lily sat two seats down, and in between them sat Richard, offering Hermione a smile.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but then the Professor announced they would start practicing Defence on a level they had never practiced on before. Hermione smiled secretly, relieved that they would start doing something she knew how to do.

The Professor demonstrated a duel with a Ravenclaw, to show them several spells and manners of reflecting such spells, and then it was for real, and Hermione could only stare in awe as the Ravenclaw won, disarming the Professor, within twenty seconds.

By Merlin's hat.

_Twenty seconds._

She couldn't duel in twenty seconds!

'Now,' said the Professor with a broad smile (the girls on the row in front of Hermione sighed dreamily), 'partner up!'

'Er,' said Hermione, as both Remus and Richard had turned to look at her. Peter, she noticed, had been forced to team up with Snape. Lily saved her of making a choice, however, when she smiled broadly and grabbed Richard's hand. 'Come on, you're my partner. Alice ran off with Frank, that traitor.'

Remus smiled at her, and Hermione felt a strange, jumpy feeling in the pit of her stomach that had absolutely no business being there. Perhaps she ate something funny at breakfast. That marmalade had tasted a bit weird.

'Do they do it a lot?' Remus asked, when Hermione helped push their desks aside so that they could duel.

'Do they do what a lot?'

'Duel. At Beauxbatons.'

'Oh. Beauxbatons,' said Hermione. 'No. They focus more on Transfiguration.'

'Really?' asked Remus, frowning. 'I read in _Educational Intercourse: Wizarding Schools of Europe_ that they specialised in Defence.'

Bugger.

'Er, well, not really,' said Hermione, with an uneasy smile.

'Your English is perfect. Practiced much?'

'Thanks. No, my Dad's English,' said Hermione, starting to wish that Lily had chosen Remus and not Richard to partner with, because Remus asked too many right questions, while Richard asked none.

'Wands at the ready – three – two – one – go!' shouted the Professor, sparing her from more prying questions.

There seemed to be an explosion of spells and hexes all around them. Lily skilfully cast a Freezing Charm on Richard to her right, and in front of her, Peter was hit full-on with a nasty charm that send him, wheezing for breath, to the floor.

However, she had no time to ponder this, because Remus sent a spell her way. Dodging it, she put on a reflecting charm, but Remus gave her a knowing grin, and cast a spell Hermione had never heard of. The white bubble around her disappeared, and within a second, her wand was in Remus' hands.

'How did you –' she started, amazed.

'Practice,' answered Remus, and Hermione suddenly felt there was a lot more to that answer than his easy grin let on.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Terribly sorry for my absence. Thanks to everyone who left a review; if you have any prying questions you want to know the answer to, don't hesitate to ask them.


	8. Old and New

**Your Hidden Past**

The wine was bitter, burning a way down his throat as he swallowed it grudgingly. He had never liked wine. 'My lord,' he attempted, yet another time, but as the two narrow red eyes focused on him, he wished he hadn't breathed a word.

'Yes?' The "s" at the end was long and snake-like, and Peter Pettigrew made a small, scared noise in the back of his throat that was somewhere between a nervous laugh and a snort.

'My lord, I was,' Peter swallowed, but pressed on, 'I was wondering if there had been any news.'

There was a roar of laughter at this, and Lord Voldemort grinned sinisterly behind his own silver goblet, holding it up high and tilting it slightly in his direction, as if toasting to him. Right next to him, Draco Malfoy was sitting, looking pale and gaunt. He, too, was laughing.

'News, Wormtail?' came the amused reply, after the laughter had died down. 'Of course there is no news other than the news we heard yesterday. Hermione Granger, mudblood friend of Harry Potter,' he spat the last name, and Peter was glad for the black robes that hid his shaking hand, 'disappeared in this era, and appeared in another.'

There was an appreciative chuckle from the young Malfoy next to him, but Peter squared his shoulders, not willing to back down again. '_I was there_.'

'Correction, Wormtail. You are still there.'

'Then let me help, master. Let me do something, _anything_, I can –'

'Silence!'

Peter stopped mid-sentence, and the chatter that had been bubbling up again around them stopped suddenly, also. 'Wormtail, you have proven yourself unworthy once before.'

'Master, please –'

'_Crucio_.'

* * *

'You're mad.'

'Ron –'

'No! We won't go without Hermione!'

'What choice do we have?' said Harry, exasperated, balling his fists.

'A very bloody good one!'

'Don't.'

'I'm not going without Hermione!'

'Ron!'

'No, Harry, you can't make me!'

'YOU OAF!'

There was a loud smack, and Ron was glaring down at his vibrant-haired sister, whose right hand was still up in the air, trembling in her rage. 'Ginny!' said Harry, half-horrified and half-admiring.

'You will go look for whatever it is you're going to look for, and you're going to do it now. You're not going to help the wizarding world by just standing here like an idiot going 'Oh, no, not without Hermione!''

'Like you would understand,' said Ron nastily, one hand to his cheek.

Ginny narrowed her eyes. 'I'm letting two men I love (here, Harry choked) go away doing god-knows-what. What don't I understand?'

'I don't want to go without Hermione,' said Ron again, bitterly, and Ginny's posture softened, her outstretched hand falling back to her side. 'I know you don't want to, Ron. But you have to. For her sake.'

Ron swallowed, sighed, and nodded finally. 'I know.'

'Good,' Ginny whispered, before disappearing out of the kitchen of the Burrow. Harry stared after her, amazed, and Ron snickered.

'Not a word, Ron,' Harry sighed, wearily.

Ron gave him a wicked grin, the handprint on his cheek already fading. 'I wouldn't dare.'

* * *

Many years back, Hermione Granger was sitting at a library table, translating one of the unfinished passages in Odin's book about his work for the essay that was due next week.

'Laguz,' she muttered vaguely under her breath, frowning as she glanced at the book she'd been allowed to use (_Ancient Runes: What Do They Mean?_). She didn't see the rune she was looking for in the list, and slammed her quill down to the table in frustration.

'What is wrong with me? I _know_ this. Laguz, it's one of the basic runes, it's –'

'Water.'

'No, it's not,' said Hermione, scrunching up her nose, and turning around in her seat to face the person who'd spoken.

'Well, it is. Laguz, the Water rune. Its modern day equivalent is the letter "L", and it translates to emotions, fears and intuition, among other things.'

'I knew that,' Hermione said, slightly sheepish, making a note of something on her parchment.

Richard grinned. 'Sure you did. Mind if I –?'

Hermione shook her head, and moved some of the many books she'd taken out for this particular essay off the chair next to her, so he could sit there.

'Thanks,' said Richard, flashing her a smile, before starting on his own essay. Hermione watched him for a moment longer, then shook her head, and returned to her essay.

Across from them, Lily Evans dove back into the row labelled 'Ancient Runes', not-too-successfully hiding a knowing smile.

* * *

'How are you feeling, Remus?'

Remus looked up from Treasure Island, which he had been reading on his four-poster bed, to James, who was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

'I'm fine?' volunteered Remus, not quite sure whether he should answer positively or not, and therefore making his statement into a question.

'Full moon's in a few days,' came Sirius' voice, from his own bed. It took a moment, but then Sirius poked his head through his curtains so that Remus could see him properly.

'Are you sure you're fine?' piped up Peter, sitting on the floor with _The Profound History of Goblin Rebellions _sprawled open in front of him.

'Yes, I'm fine,' said Remus, sounding more certain of himself. 'Thank you.'

''s all right,' Sirius said, running a hand through his hair, and grinning broadly. 'Just looking out for you, Moony.'

* * *

'How are you feeling, Remus? Full moon's coming up.'

Remus looked up from Treasure Island, which he had been reading at the kitchen table, slightly uncomfortable and hunched over, china filled with cold tea across from him, to Tonks, who was standing in the doorframe.

'I'm fine. Really,' Remus said, managing a slight smile, but Tonks' lips were pursed, and she took a seat next to him.

'Do you remember her?' she asked anxiously, looking at him with big brown eyes (so different from her own steel blue ones).

'Miss Granger, you mean?' Remus asked back, and Tonks paused for a moment, before nodding.

'Yes,' said Remus, sitting back in his chair. 'The memories are there, and new ones appear with each passing day. But, they're like all memories, vague and only remembered when thought of.'

'You're so solemn,' said Tonks, imitating his frown and tone of voice. Remus smiled half-heartedly, and gave her hand a soft squeeze.

'Thank you, Nymphadora.'

'That's all right. I'm just looking out for you.'

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but Tonks was already heading out of the kitchen that smelled of polished wood and cakes; the kitchen that had become their very own after leaving Grimmauld Place; and he closed his eyes, going back to his reading.

* * *

'Shut up, it's right this way!'

'Someone _will _see, and we _will _get caught,' another voice whispered back, sounding aristocratic and bored.

'Will not!'

'Will too!'

'Stop it, both of you, we're here.'

Peter and Sirius stopped their bickering and turned around. They'd left hundreds of worn stone steps behind them, and James had opened the trapdoor he'd knocked his head into the first time around.

'Honeydukes!' Peter raved, argument with Sirius forgotten as he dashed out into the cellar, disappearing in the black of the night.

* * *

'I never knew there was a passage to the castle in Hogsmeade.' The voice sounded arrogant, and the boy it belonged to was treated to a smirk by his companion.

'_You _wouldn't,' Peter Pettigrew said, holding his wand up to illuminate the worn steps below, hidden partially in darkness. 'Little ones first,' he added mockingly, turning around to face the boy.

The pale, sneering face of Draco Malfoy looked awful in the wand light, grey eyes illuminated to the point of being nearly translucent, and Pettigrew swallowed and turned away.

'Coward,' Draco Malfoy spat, before illuminating his own wand. He pulled his cloak closer to him against the cold, and started down the stairs, soon swallowed entirely by the darkness below.

Peter Pettigrew closed his eyes and sighed. 'This is for you, Prongs,' he whispered, eyes opening to look at the ceiling. He managed a watery smile, and then followed the young Malfoy; descending down the stairs he'd last visited twenty-three years ago.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I'm pleased to report my final results were satisfactory, and so I will do my best to try and make more frequent updates to this story.

The rune _laguz_ means water. Its divinatory meanings are, for so far known: emotions, fears, unconscious mind, things hidden, revelation, intuition and counselling. Many a people view water as a peaceful thing, but to the Norse mythology, water means the ocean; many a seaman's grave and home to the Jörmungandr, or Midgard Serpent.

Remember, there's more than meets the eye.


	9. Divide and Multiply

**Your Hidden Past**

'You're joking.'

The voice held disbelief; the slightest sting of betrayal. The light streaming into the small, grimy window hit Ron's face, making his freckles stand out against his pale skin. His eyes were framed by dark circles; they'd been travelling for four days, without sleep.

Harry could only raise his shoulders slightly, not knowing what to say or think, either. He'd stopped thinking when Tonks's Patronus had informed him of the break-in when they'd met up this morning.

'But that's – Wormtail? Malfoy?'

Harry nodded.

'Blimey.'

* * *

'I'm not very fond of joint assignments,' Professor Vector said, and Hermione pulled her attention away from her thoughts (Harry; Ron; Southampton, now; Manchester next) and back to the front of the class. 'But this essay will count for forty five percent towards your final NEWT grade, and the calculations are complicated.' 

Someone at the front of the class raised a hand. 'Will we get to choose our partners?'

Professor Vector shook her head. 'I had a talk with your House Professors, and together, we divided you into pairs. We took utmost care; your partner will have strengths in an area you have weaknesses in.'

Lily, who was sitting next to Hermione, raised her hand. 'When will they be announced?'

'There will be a note pinned to your common room notice board after this lesson. Now, let us continue with the theory of Pythagoras, and why you can use it to solve early Greek equations.'

'Strengths?' Lily asked softly, and Hermione whispered back, 'Isopsephy, mostly.'

Lily threw her a disappointed look. 'Worst luck,' she muttered. Hermione, silently, disagreed.

* * *

'Edward McMillan isn't too shabby. He's good at equations.' 

Lily sounded like she was trying harder to convince herself of that fact than Hermione.

'He is sort of strange, though,' Hermione noted.

'Yeah,' Lily agreed, resting her head on her hands, leaning on the table with her elbows. 'Congratulations on getting Remus, though, I'm jealous.'

Hermione bit back a smile. 'Oh, honestly, it's just an assignment.'

Lily looked at her. 'If you say so.'

* * *

'I think Saturday is fine,' Remus said, when Hermione caught him after Defence. He looked to be in a hurry, and kept glancing back at Sirius, who was standing by the door. 

'But I can't –' Hermione started, and Remus threw her a grin. 'Twelve-ish? Thanks.' And with that, he had dashed off. '– on Saturday,' Hermione finished, rather unnecessarily.

Lily patted her shoulder comfortingly. 'It's quite all right; I could take over for you.'

Hermione raised on eyebrow. 'You'll go to Hogsmeade with Richard for me?'

Lily gave her an apologetic grin. 'Maybe you can just tell him?'

'And say what?' Hermione said, as they made their way out of the classroom and towards the Great Hall. '"Oh, dreadfully sorry, but I have to cancel our appointment because I have to study with Remus?"'

Lily wrinkled her nose. 'Appointment sound so formal.'

'Well, it's not a date, we're going as friends,' Hermione insisted, pushing her Defence books back into her bag. There was a loud thud following that, but neither of the girls noticed as they took a left into another corridor.

Near the staircases leading up to the Divination Tower, on the same floor, Richard Davies stood, shaking ever so slightly.

* * *

Hermione found that she woke up on Saturday without even remembering how she'd gotten there; the week had flown by. 

She dressed without a care for her appearance, only half-heartedly running a brush through her hair and deciding to tie it up into a messy bun, in the end. The mirror sleepily mumbled something about 'looking fetching', and Hermione shortly told it to mind its own business.

The remainder of the morning she spend re-reading _Daniel Deronda_, and at a quarter to, she sat up neatly in the cosy, red armchair, waiting.

Remus stumbled in at twelve exactly, looking dishevelled. Hermione stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. 'Library?' Remus asked. Hermione nodded and followed him out the portrait hole.

* * *

Hermione formed a friendship with Remus over time. She hadn't intended to take things down this path – she wasn't sure what sort of complications befriending people who still knew her in her future had; neither was she very keen on finding out. 

But it seemed impossible _not_ to like Remus. He was very smart, polite and funny. Hermione found herself, against her better judgement, fascinated by the way his dirty blond-brown hair fell to his chin, curling around the shell of his ears, and the way his dark blue eyes lit up whenever they managed to sort out an equation.

Lily teased her about it; she said it made sense Remus would make friends with the smart, intriguing new girl in their year.

The only thing Hermione didn't like about Remus was the way she sometimes caught him looking at her. His eyes would narrow slightly, and his brows would furrow in thought; he seemed to think she was some sort of puzzle – one he would like to figure out.

* * *

'Well, of _course_, this should be fourteen; it's the only possible outcome –' 

Hermione had her head buried in a very fat book that lay open on the table. Remus was sitting across from her, swiping his hair out of his eyes in an impatient gesture.

'Why, though?' Remus asked, and Hermione sighed deeply in her distress.

Lupin was _annoying_; he always wanted to be right, and he didn't think anything of prodding and tugging for so many hours on one little detail, even she didn't care if it was right or wrong in the end, as long as he wrote it down.

'Because,' Hermione snapped, slamming the book shut with her hand, 'if it was eleven, it would disjoint the entire process, because eleven isn't one of the destiny numbers.'

'Isn't it?'

Remus didn't look offended at her tone; there was a small smile tugging at his lips.

Hermione pressed her lips together.

'I think you will find,' Remus said, standing up and gently pushing her hands aside. When he stood behind her, he opened the book to one of the pages without even looking at the page number, 'that eleven is a destiny number, just as much as, ah, fourteen is.'

He pointed at a particular paragraph, and Hermione found herself blushing for no particular reason at all, staring at the book even after he'd left.

"_Many a numerologists have made the common mistake of dismissing eleven as an answer to any question; often choosing to use a supposedly 'even' number, such as twelve or fourteen, instead. But out of all numbers, eleven is often thought of as the perfect number in numerology. When divided or multiplied, eleven turns itself into two other double digits; twenty-two and five-and-a-half, and it is the only number that does so."_

* * *

**Author's Note: **it's been almost a year. I confess: I had not intended to prolong the release of this chapter for such a long time, and I apologise. Even thought this chapter is short, I think you should all hold your horses a bit longer – there's a surprise on the way. 

On another note, with the release of the seventh book, this has officially strayed even more deeply in the AU world than I would've liked. I therefore thought I'd give you lot a fair warning before hand: _Your Hidden Past_ is not going to follow in its footsteps. I'm keeping things "the right way" up until the sixth book.

Also, I've quite purposely not done research for this chapter; my claims of numerology are not correct, but this misinformation is needed for my more evil purposes. Thank you.


End file.

Harry Potter, Romance