CHAPTER FOUR:

Stealing the Stone wasn't that difficult, considering three first years had been capable of getting past the defences. Hermione completed that task before breakfast. Honestly, if Voldemort wasn't such a coward, he wouldn't have had to wait around until June. The Mirror of Erised wasn't even set up in the last room yet, instead the Stone was contained in a heavily warded pouch. It only took her around twenty minutes to lift the wards long enough to replace the Stone with a replica, and then she turned into her owl animagus and flew back out of the chambers.

After locking the Stone in her trunk, the inside of which was covered with enough runic arrays that her trunk could be hit by a nuclear missile without receiving a single scratch, Hermione made her way to the Great Hall where Filius was already handing out schedules, and the small professor giving her a bright, beaming smile as she accepted hers.

The first week of classes passed the same way as Hermione remembered it, though her schedule was slightly different considering she was in a different House. History of Magic was as dull and uninteresting as ever, she spent all of Defense Against the Dark Arts talking herself out of killing one of her professors (the last time she'd had to do this was in fifth year, with Umbridge), Astronomy and Herbology were tedious and Charms and Transfiguration were painfully simple. Even Potions failed to break the monotonous routine, though Hermione was gratified that Severus didn't appear to recognise her.

Astronomy and History of Magic were the only two classes she shared with Harry (and Ron and Cordelia). Harry already appeared to have made fast friends with Ron and Cordelia and Hermione wasn't exactly sure why that had surprised her. It just... it felt like she'd been replaced and that hurt. To stop feeling like she'd been stabbed in the heart every time she saw the three of them she had to remind herself of the fact that her Harry and Ron didn't exist outside her memories anymore and that her purpose was to make sure that Harry was raised right this time, that his childhood was as safe and as normal as possible.

Flying lessons with the 'Puffs passed peacefully and without interruption. She heard later that Harry, once again, made it onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team, thanks to Draco Malfoy and she tried not to cry (her heart ached just as much at everything that stayed the same as it did the things that she'd changed).

Hermione took care to perform above average in classes, but not to stand out. Easily and swiftly completing any homework and tasks given to her, she spent a majority of her time planning what to do about the Death Eaters. After much consideration she'd decided the best move would be to get rid of them and gave herself the deadline of the last day of the Christmas holidays to deal with the inner circle then the rest of the year for the senior Death Eaters as well as any unmarked Blood Purists who had committed terrible crimes during the War, such as Umbridge— and possibly Fudge (she would definitely be making sure Umbridge met a sticky end).

With how occupied she was planning out the assassinations of multiple high-profile targets she didn't even realise it was Halloween until she turned a corner and found herself face-to-face with a twelve-foot mountain troll. She'd gotten into the habit of going to the kitchens for food in order to avoid having to join the Great Hall and all the children within it during meals and had been making her way there from the library when she'd come across the beast.

Eyeing it calmly, she raised her wand as the troll bellowed what loosely translated to "Kill! Kill squishy!" in its native tongue and without hesitation transfigured the cartilage in its nose to white phosphorus.

When the troll took it's next breath, it proved to be its final, the oxygen triggering the phosphorus's pyrophoric properties. The entire mass of phosphorus flashed to flame and the burning mass was somewhat contained by the tough hide of the troll, certainly long enough for a thermal pulse to push inward into softer tissues. The resulting explosion reduced the creature's head to a fine mist. The troll collapsed to the floor with an echoing thud.

A bit under a minute later, not enough time for her to flee the 'scene of the crime', Minerva and Filius rounded the corner, wands out. The two professors froze, seeing the headless troll, and both looked at her with similar expressions of disbelief.

"Hermione!" Minerva finally managed to gasp out, and Hermione blamed her old Head of House's startled use of her actual name on the acute shock the older woman was currently processing (I miss you, Minerva; you were one of my only confidants, one of my only friends), "what on earth— when did— how!?"

"I transfigured the cartilage in its nose to white phosphorus." Hermione said, calm and matter-of-fact. The two professors stared wide-eyed at her.

"That's-- that's very advanced transfiguration for a first year," Minerva finally said in amazement, and Hermione shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.

"I've always been an advanced student." She admitted.

"You haven't shown this skill in classes," argued Minerva. "You're clearly an above average student, and your essays are always perfect, but you've never shown this sort of affinity!"

"I don't like standing out," Hermione confessed with a slight wince. "So I make an effort to ensure I don't."

"Hermione!" Several voices called out in relief and Hermione turned to see Harry, Cordelia and Ron rushing around the corner accompanied by Severus. Brief confusion filtered through her, before she concentrated on Cordelia yanking her into a hug.

"Oh thank god," she breathed before stepping back to look her up and down as if to make sure she was in one piece.

"Severus, what is the meaning of this?" Minerva demanded.

"I ran into your first years as they were running through the corridors," Severus drawled, "they said he was looking for Miss Granger's sister, who has a habit of skipping meals and apparently was not safely located inside the Ravenclaw Tower."

How did they—? Oh, the Map, she realised. She hadn't realised Cordelia had been watching her close enough to know her habit of avoiding the Great Hall but it warmed her slightly to realise her sister had been concerned for her.

"I was so worried!" Cordelia shivered slightly, genuinely looking pale. She then glanced down at the dead troll and turned green. "Thank god the professors got here on time!"

"Actually, the troll was Miss Granger's work." Filius squeaked, looking excited. "She used advanced transfiguration to defeat the beast!"

"Yeah, she's a genius," Cordelia said, not even slightly surprised. Severus, Hermione had to grudgingly admit, didn't look surprised either. Slytherins were harder to fool, she consoled herself, and while Severus apparently hadn't fallen for her average student act, he hadn't called her out for it either.

"May I be excused?" she asked politely, "there's still an hour until curfew and I was going to the kitchens to get something to eat."

"I'll accompany you," Severus said smoothly, "we don't know for sure that this troll was the only one."

"Yes sir," Hermione agreed without fuss, saying a quick (and slightly awkward) goodbye to Coredelia (and avoiding meeting either Harry or Ron's eyes). She and Severus walked in silence until they were in a relatively secluded corridor with no portraits. Hermione wasn't sure why Severus had led them this way, but she hadn't pointed out that it was quicker going along her original route— after all, how could a first year, and one who'd only been in the castle a few weeks at that, possibly know that? It was enough of a stretch that she knew her way to the kitchens!

And then Severus stopped, turned to face her, and said something that actually managed to shock her out of her general apathy.

"I must admit it's a surprise to see you here, Maia."

Hermione blinked at Severus and wondered if she should act confused but realised there wasn't much point and she wasn't really inclined to anyway.

"Hello Severus," she greeted him amiably, "What gave me away?"

"We've known each other for nine years," pointed out Severus, "you think I wouldn't recognise you?"

"Well, I had hoped my acting skills had improved," she admitted.

"Am I going to hear that story now?" Severus asked, arching a dark brow, and Hermione sighed, absently waving her hand to conjure up two seats.

"I suppose I do owe you an explanation," she agreed. Severus was visibly shocked by her use of advanced wandless, wordless magic, but he silently sat down on one of the newly provided seats. "In about four years from now, Voldemort is resurrected." Hermione stated, deciding to dive right into the matter, "and in the three years that follow everyone I love is killed in the war against him. So I spent fifteen years creating a way to send my soul back in time— and I succeeded, sending myself back to my own birth. Which was very unpleasant, let me tell you, and being an infant was bloody awful, but it's been worth it, I've already managed to change so much and for the better.

"Originally, Harry Potter was my best friend and his childhood was heartbreaking. His parents were murdered by Voldemort when he was fifteen months old and he was left to be raised in an abusive household, every year he was at Hogwarts he suffered a near death experience and from the moment he was resurrected to the moment he was killed Voldemort did his very best to find and kill him— all the while Harry was being told he was the world's only hope for defeating Voldemort, putting the weight of stopping him on a schoolboy's shoulders!

"I decided that even if I couldn't be his friend, even if he'd never know me, the real me, I vowed that I wouldn't let his life turn out like that again. So I saved his parents and now I'm making sure that Voldemort will never be able to bother him, or anyone else I love, ever again!" She finished fiercely.

Severus was staring at her at her in open shock, the sudden onslaught of her unbelievable claims apparently overriding even his perfected Slytherin mask. Hermione smiled sadly at him, blinking back tears. "I am so fucked up," she told him honestly. "The war... it changed me, it changed all of us." She gave a shaky laugh. "I wasn't always like I am now," she confessed, "once upon a time, I was a teacher's pet and a 'know-it-all— an 'annoyingly cheerful little chit' as I believe you once called me at an Order meeting...

"Once upon a time I would have loved Cordelia, would have leapt at the chance to reach out and befriend everyone I spent so many years mourning... but that girl is dead." She whispered, wet and ragged, no longer able to hold back the tears that started trickling down her cheeks. "That girl died the moment she killed her best friend— the moment I killed Harry." A sob tore from her chest. "Oh Severus— I killed him, I killed him and I had to, there was no other choice for either of us, but it killed me!"

She lost the ability to continue talking at that point and buried her head in her hands as she started crying unconsolably. She heard Severus stand and felt him push something into her hands. Through her tear-blurred sight she recognised the Ageing Potion and took a second to drink it. Less then thirty seconds later she was in her adult form and Severus pulled her into his arms, let her bury her face against his chest and cry herself to exhaustion.

When her tears finally slowed, Severus quietly asked, "did I die?"

"Yes," she whispered hoarsely into the heavy material of his teaching robes, "You did. You died a hero."

"How very... Gryffindor of me." Severus grimaced and Hermione laughed weakly.

"Yes, I suppose it was." She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him then, tasting the salt of her tears on their lips. "Take me to your bed," she breathed against his mouth and he didn't argue.

Severus's personal quarters were guarded by a portrait of a snake by the name of 'Nefertiti' and Hermione felt herself warm when Severus didn't bother hiding his password from her. His rooms were coloured in neutral shades and decorated in a minimalistic fashion and Hermione thought they suited him. She quickly located the door leading to the bedroom and headed for it, tugged him after her.

Her now much too small school robes were quickly scattered on the floor, along with Severus's teaching robes, and the warmth and sensuality of their love-making had a new depth to it that wasn't there before. Honesty, she decided, really did wonderful things to a relationship.

While they enjoyed the afterglow, lazing in Severus's bed together, Severus started asking more questions about her and her future. "You're an Ancient Runes Mistress?" he clarified, at one point.

"And an Arithmancy and Arcane Magic Mistress." Hermione said playfully, feeling a pride in her achievements in the face of his approval that she didn't usually allow herself to feel.

"Amazing," Severus praised, and his smile was a proud one.

Unfortunately, as it must, their conversation moved from the lighter topics to the grimness of war and Hermione told him about the Horcruxes and just what they meant— the thought of a functionally immortal Voldemort had Severus paling dramatically.

"Have you destroyed the Diadem yet?" he asked, face tight with fear.

"I transferred the soul piece into a book and destroyed the book." Hermione told him— she was getting all the practice she could with changing the containers of a Horcrux. "The Diadem itself is still in one piece."

"So now you need the Cup, the Diary and Potter." Severus recalled with a frown and Hermione nodded.

"I have no idea how I'm supposed to get the Cup," she admitted, "but if Lucius doesn't give Ginny the Diary then I'll have to break into his Manor to get it. I may have to do that anyway— if possible, I'd really rather deal with Voldemort this year while I know exactly where he is."

"I can help you with retrieving the Diary," Severus told her immediately, "I've been to Malfoy Manor several times and I know where they keep their Dark artefacts."

"In the secret room under their drawing room floor?" Hermione asked with a smile and Severus laughed.

"Is there anything you don't know?" He asked teasingly.

"Not much, I'd like to think." Hermione admitted with a light smirk, before leaning forwards and kissing him again.