"Did you hear her?" A very bad tempered Ron asked Harry at the end of the class. "'It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long.'" He mimicked. "It's no wonder no one can stand her, she's a nightmare, honestly."

Even as the two friends pushed their way into the crowded corridor, someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him.

It was Hermione. She didn't look at the two, but Harry caught a glimpse of her face-- the girl was on the verge of tears.

"I think she heard you." He told Ron, feeling rather miserable about it.

"So what? She must've noticed she's got no friends." Ron shrugged indifferently but hurried to change the subject, feeling uncomfortable.

Hermione ran into the girls' toilets. She wanted to be alone and cry... But that was not possible there. After first Parvati, and then even Lavender came in, both cheerful and excited about the Hallowe'en feast, and instead of leaving her alone kept asking silly, annoying questions, she left the toilets and made her way towards her beloved library.

With everyone gathered in the Great Hall, the place would be dark and empty, she thought. Peaceful. There, she would be able to reflect on Ron's unfair words. It hadn't been nice of him at all, she had only meant to help... But what if he was right, and nobody liked her...?

Hermione pushed the library's heavy door open. "Lumos," she muttered, pulling her wand from beneath her robes, already feeling much better. She inhaled deeply. The scent of old books was soothing, and once the door closed behind her, not a sound, not even a whisper from outside disturbed the perfect silence reigning in this wonderland full of knowledge.

She didn't take two steps into the darkness filling every nook and cranny of the large room spreading beyond the tip of her wand, when one of the thousands of volumes lining the tall shelves flew out of its place and landed with a soft thud at her feet, sending a thin layer of dust that had settled on the floor into a flurry.

"What...?" Hermione muttered, watching its pages flutter as it opened at a seemingly random page, revealing a... "A letter? Or is that a map?"

Forgetting all about Ron and the tears she came here to shed, the curious girl kneeled by the ancient book and unfolded the strange, purplish piece of parchment. She couldn't say if it was old or new just by the looks of it, but it was definitely brimming with magic. It glittered and shone, and as she asked aloud, "What... are you?" an inscription appeared on its surface.

'If you are of inquisitive mind, come, follow those of your kind. Seek your answers, ask more questions... Walk inside of me without hesitations.'

Hermione looked at the words written in black ink, appearing slowly and disappearing again gradually as fast as she read. And even though she did not completely comprehend them, she could not resist her curiosity.

She spread the parchment on the floor, stood up, and stepped on it. Slowly, it morphed into a map-- she watched as the purple leaf of parchment became covered with an intricate picture of Hogwarts' many rooms and corridors. And then, suddenly, it gave way under her feet, and she fell through it.

That's how it felt. As if she was gliding down a long, dark well, getting glimpses of events which were still to happen, hearing voices of people she was still to meet, along the way, even as she realised that she was... growing. When she landed in a brightly lit chamber some time later, even though she could not see herself, she thought she must look... at least eighteen.

Hermione brought her hand to her hair curiously, discovering smooth, tamed waves... She smiled contentedly, happy with that change, then turned around in a complete circle.

There was an infinity of portraits hanging on one of the stone walls. Books, and more books everywhere, and... a phoenix?... perched on the back of a chair in one corner. A huge writing desk, and behind...

"Miss Granger, what a pleasant surprise!" Professor Dumbledore called, standing up from the desk and stuffing what looked like a packet of Sherbet Lemons in the pocket of his brightly coloured robes. "Oh, excuse me, would you like one? They are my favourite." He smiled at her, bright blue eyes sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

Hermione shook her head, at a loss for words, feeling stunned. "How... Why am I here?" She muttered finally, realising how different her voice sounded.

"The Map of the Inquisitive." Dumbledore said, approaching her, nodding towards the purple parchment hovering in the air next to her. "Apparently, it chose you."

Hermione observed the tall, thin headmaster, his long silver beard and hair making him look so... wise, and ancient.

Why me? What for? Hermione mused, even as Dumbledore, as if he could read her mind, spoke again.

"Ask, Miss Granger. Never stop asking. Only those who seek answers will find them."

Hermione nodded as she took a deep breath, then swallowed, before she asked, "What am I to do?" She was ready to accept any challenge which the wizarding world and her beloved Hogwarts might have in store for her.

"You brave, wise girl," Dumbledore said, nodding approvingly. "You don't have to do anything right now, not for a long time yet. Just stay close to Harry, The Boy Who Lived will need your help." He smiled, eyes twinkling with mirth and mystery. "Once that our story will unfold entirely, this map will take you to the genius mind who... created us all. See, Miss Granger, many innocent people will perish in this great, perilous adventure, many of those who deserve a second chance..."

He wrapped an arm over her shoulders and led her to his desk. A strange stone bowl stood there in one of the corners.

"Wh..."

"It is a pensieve, Miss Granger." He said, pointing his wand towards a shelf standing behind the desk. "Accio."

One of the many vials made of colourful glass followed his command and flew across the room towards them. The headmaster unstoppered it and emptied its contents-- a string of mottled, constantly moving mist-- into the pensieve.

"They are thoughts and memories of the most brilliant witch of our time," he replied to Hermione's questioning look. "She isn't here with us, but, in a way, she has power over all of us. We're all... her creations. Please, have a look."

Puzzled by his mysterious words, Hermione brought her face close to the swirling fog filling the bowl. Hesitatingly, she observed as it rose higher, submerging first her nose, and then her mouth. Fighting the urge to close her eyes, she let the silvery veil flood them too.

Inside, she saw many familiar faces, and others, which she had never seen, while Dumbledore's words, muffled by the whooshing, unstoppable whirlpool of mist, echoed in her ears, "The poor, misguided Professor Quirrel. The loyal, free elf, Dobby. The brilliant Cedric and Fred. Sirius, Remus, Severus... and many more... They all deserve to live longer, happier lives than those which were dealt to them."

Hermione, startled by the glimpses of the future she was seeing, withdrew her face out of the pensieve and straightened up, facing the old headmaster again. He observed her empathetically as she brought one of her hands to her aching heart. She... missed them all, suffered the loss of those she knew, even of those she was yet to meet.

"Yes, Miss Granger. I know how it feels. But you, an excellent witch of a rare, inquisitive mind, will have a chance to change it. When the time comes, you'll have to follow this map, and maybe, if you choose your words and arguments wisely, you might obtain a... a second chance for all of us."

"But how..."

"Not now, Miss Granger, it is late. Right now, you should be in the girls' toilets, fighting a mountain troll, and not here, discussing this map," Professor Dumbledore announced, eyes twinkling mischievously.

She gasped, watching him touch the map with the tip of his wand, rendering it invisible.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger, it will remain within your reach until you'll decide to use it. You'll simply forget about it and our encounter, too, for the time being," he said, pointing his wand to her forehead. "Obliviate!"

The old wizard then clapped his hands once and Hermione fell through that dark well again, her body shrinking back to her normal shape and size, as she heard Professor Quirrel's shrill voice crying out, "Troll-- in the dungeons-- thought you ought to know."

Just that the troll wasn't in the dungeons. It stood right in front of her as she landed in the toilets-- twelve feet tall, lumpy and grey, and incredibly smelly.

She screamed so loudly that Harry and Ron hiding in the corridor outside, heard her easily.

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' toilets!" Harry gasped.

"Hermione!" they said together.