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Chapter 5

Waking with a start Hermione immediately reached for her wand casting a lumos charm to illuminate the dark room. She was at the Leaky Cauldron, of course she was, closing her eyes again she started taking deep breaths Hermione tried to focus on her actions the previous day – the trip to the apothecary, Flourish & Blotts. Felling her heart rate slow Hermione reopened her eyes and peered at the clock on the bedside table.

Quarter past four – sodding wonderful knowing that sleep would elude her for what was left of the night she rose and lit the lamps in the room. Might as well start reading these law books Hermione hefted one of the tomes she had purchased at Flourish & Blotts the previous day and quickly found the index, smiling that small not quite smile when she found the entry she was looking for.

By the time daylight started filtering through the window of her room Hermione had several pages of colour-coded cross-referenced notes around the more archaic parts of British Wizarding Law. She had discovered that many laws were never removed they just started being ignored – that did not mean that with a little clever wording in the right place and a number changed here or there that they couldn't be brought back into circulation. She would have to be careful though – one wrong move and an innocent witch or wizard could lose their soul.

Hermione decided to eat breakfast in the main bar. She sat stirring her coffee and listening to the conversations around her, every so often Anne or Tom would stop by and check that she didn't need anything. Being around people who weren't aware of who she was or what she'd done was proving to be a novel experience, ever since joining the wizarding world she'd been under scrutiny – first from professors and peers then the press. Hermione couldn't order a different flavour of ice-cream at Fortescue's without it making at least an article in Teen Witch Weekly, if it was a slow news week it could even make the front page of the Prophet and had on more than one occasion.

Back in her previous time the world thought she worked in Magical Relations helping House-Elves, Mer-people and others who needed protecting. Only the Department of Mysteries knew she worked there. It didn't buy her any respite from nosey colleagues who wanted to be introduced to The Boy Who Lived. The often got huffy when Hermione wouldn't even get them an autograph and the number of meetings she'd been pulled into with Winn for hexing a colleague was rather extreme. They never ask a second time though Hermione thought smugly to herself. Her snugness turned to bittersweet sadness as she thought of Harry and Ron and how their lives would be different in this timeline now. She continued reminiscing as she moved through the hallway and up the staircase to pick up her bag, picturing the summer before their third year when she and Ron had fought about Crookshanks in this very corridor. She hoped Harry and Ginny had taken Crookshanks in, he'd never forgiven Ron for third year and Teddy really loved the squash faced ginger cat.

A quick flick of her wand had everything packed in the neatly sized suitcase Anne had let Hermione have out of a cupboard full of unclaimed forgotten things. While it in no way rivalled the Room of Requirement it was an impressive collection. Glancing down Hermione frowned, a small line forming between her eyebrows as she looked at the packed case. While all her possessions from the room were in the case, they were piled in a heap not a neatly folded blouse or stacked book in sight. Hermione turned her frown from the case to her wand, she shrugged slightly. It had been a traumatic few day and that was likely what had thrown off the spell – especially since her concentration was lacking as well. She'd have to be more careful when she apparated. Hermione settled the bill for her stay quickly and moved to the apparition point just outside the pub so that she could travel to her new home.

Setting up a potions lab was something that had to be done without magic – too many ingredients were sensitive to too much ambient magic. As such Hermione spent the best part of three days dusting, moving furniture and disinfecting her cauldron before she could even think about starting to brew.

Since her initial forays into the Ministry and Diagon Hermione had decided it wasn't the most sensible idea to go skipping around exactly as she looked right now. For one thing she didn't know yet if another Hermione Granger would be born in this new branch of the timeline – while looking back at photos of relatives and seeing your features was fairly common Hermione didn't want to cause any more trouble than she needed to. The other main issue was Bellatrix's gift loudly proclaiming her as a muggleborn for all the world to see if she wore short sleeves. While Hermione wasn't ashamed of her heritage or what she'd lived through she was concerned walking through town with full length sleeves might make some think she had a very different sort of reason for covering her arm. As such staying inside her wards and researching whilst brewing was going to be Hermione's life for several weeks. She'd signed up to a delivery service that a general store in Diagon Alley had started offering, using House Elves to deliver orders to the edge of ward lines. While part of Hermione was furious that they used House Elves the other part was quite glad. The fewer witches and wizards who saw her wards the better.

To solve the joint issues of her appearance and her lack of American accent Hermione was brewing some fiendishly difficult potions that were definitely more on the dark end of the scale of magic. Hermione's intent though was pure so she wasn't overly concerned about some of the more interesting side effects.

Well, mostly pure Hermione had considered her actions and decided that while some, most likely Dumbledore, would condemn the actions she had planned others would take a slightly more pragmatic view. And when you get right down to it magic would judge them anyway.

It had always seemed to Hermione that the more powerful you needed a potion to be the longer it would take to brew. Polyjuice took a whole month, Veritaserum longer if you took into account the brewing and maturing stages. The potion Hermione was brewing was not just complex in the first instance, taking a full 30 days of stirring once a day at the precise time, but she had also modified it to make it permanent which added another three weeks to the brewing time. As such it would be nearly the end of June before she would be able to change her appearance and the sound of her voice.

Forty-eight, forty-nine and fifty Hermione finished stirring the potion sat over a small ever-burning flame. She sighed as placed the stirring rod back into stasis. The lack of human interaction had quickly become grating as Hermione was left with only her thoughts and books for company. Even as someone who loved books and her own thoughts she would have liked to have a conversation out loud that didn't make her feel like she was losing the plot. At least when on the run camping in place after place she'd had Harry and Ron with her. While she wouldn't have been able to discuss the changes she'd made to the potions she was brewing or the stabilisation runes she would have at least had some company.

Shaking off her maudlin thoughts Hermione left her basement potions lab and returned to the kitchen that took up most of the ground floor. It was bright and cheerful, the perfect place for studying ancient wizarding laws I might be able to revive to screw up the Death Eaters plans. Hermione had ben carefully checking every available law book she could get her hands on and was at a point where she thought with some clever wording a nudge here and there she'd be able to get around the fact that members of the Ministry of Magic and the Wizangamot were exempt from questioning under Veritaserum. It was something Minchum had brought in, no doubt with a Death Eater whispering in his ear the whole way, but he hadn't had a decent researcher on staff. Sill doesn't looking at the things he's passed recently. This meant that the law they thought they had overwritten was in fact an addendum to a much older law, a law that in fact allowed the Chief Witch or Warlock to cast the Imperious on the defendant to ensure the truth. Only after dark magic users started using Imperious for their own vile reasons was the curse named an unforgiveable, hence the addendum allowing the use a Veritaserum instead. But the law still called for a way that the Head of the Wizangamot could force the truth from a defendant – especially if they were a member of the Ministry or the Wizangamot themselves. The old wizarding world seemed big on being more than the power your role provided – something we could do with a little bit more of if I'm honest.

Hermione's plan rested mostly on playing up the innocent newcomer and pointing the ruddy great flaw int their own laws out to the Minister and Chief Witch. Ideally it would create a bit of momentum to review all old laws, there were a few about betrothal contracts Hermione thought particularly distasteful as well as some that still allowed the beating of a servant which meant House Elves. At the very least this should either allow Veritaserum to be used on members of the esteemed body again or bring in a different method. Of course it could all blow up in her face and the original law could be overwritten – thus closing the loophole. Everything Hermione had read about Minchum in her past and here in 1978 made him seem very hard-line and by the book so although a possibility Hermione thought it was a rather small one. She was also counting on the Chief Witch, Hermione had both been surprised and very unsurprised to find out that the Chief Witch was a witch but not just any witch. Augusta Longbottom was the current head of the Wizangamot, which Hermione thought rather improved her chances as well. She was fastidious and thought much more along the lines that the old laws Hermione was trying to utilise to stop the Death Eaters.

Once she had changed her appearance she would apply for a role as a Junior Clerk of the Wizanagmot. Once in at the ground level she was sure a small confundous would make someone start looking at the recent laws Minchum had gotten passed, with the bright young American there to help them of course. Once members could be questioned under Veritaserum – to prove that their excuse were unimpeachable naturally – a few more Death Eaters would be on the receiving end of an embrace with a dementor. Hermione was also sure that a few other tweaks could be made as well, and if not she could railroad them through once she offed Old Volde. It would increase the risk of her other plans – if she got caught she herself would be the one receiving the dementors kiss.

June 30th 1978

Early morning sun poured through the window over the kitchen sink and lit up the two potion bottles that were the only things sitting on the small scrubbed pine table.

Here goes nothing then Hermione swigged down the first potion in one go. It tasted strangely like burnt toast in liquid form.

"Hi, I'm Jean Carr, ohhh that's strange," Hermione didn't sound too different but there was a defiant twang there. For most witches and wizards it would be enough to convince them that she was American especially if she mentioned her Ilvermorny house as well. The next potion was the one Hermione was more concerned about, while she'd never been overly fussy about her appearance she'd never felt the need to change it. The liquid in the small vial was a mixture of a de-aging potion with a variant of Polyjuice that families sometimes used when adopting, while designed to work on children under seven, some rune work on the cauldron and the extra three weeks stabilisation meant that it would work on Hermione even though she was an adult and would remain permanent. Of course it hadn't really been tested, Hermione's morals might have been a bit more flexible since the war ended in her time but she still followed the ethics of what essentially was a drug trial. If it went wrong she'd be in St Mungo's for a long old time and that was only if they didn't report her to the Aurors for illegal experimentation with a dark potion.

This potion she sipped from the vial, knowing the taste of sulphur would make her gag if she tried to drink it all at once. Screwing up her nose Hermione had the potion gone in a minute or so, she stayed in her seat while the rom seemed to spin around her. Once she felt she could stand she moved over to the mirror hanging over the fireplace. While her hair was still, as Harry would have put it, characterful it was now more auburn than brown, her eyes had lightened as well going from brown to hazel with tiny flecks of green around the edge. Looking longer Hermione could see that she looked, not younger, but less careworn. As if she hadn't had to keep three teenagers alive for nearly nine months with just a tent, some wards and her wits. She wrenched up the sleeve on her left arm – where just minutes ago it had loudly displayed her heritage she now saw smooth skin, the best she'd hope for when adding the de-aging potion was a faded scar she could cover with a glamour, this was beyond what she had expected.

Hermione had realised that she would never return to where she had come from, but the physical transformation she had undergone reinforced what a different life she was going to leading.

This is it, she thought, time to take the fight to the Death Eaters.

Minchum is listed on the Wizarding World website as being the Minister of Magic before Bagnold. I couldn't find any reference to who the Cheif Warlock or Witch might have been at the time but given that Augusta Longbottom would have been at the very least 31 in 1978 I didn't think it was too much of a stretch to use her in this instance.

I'm struggling to decide whether I should keep referring to Hermione as a mixture of Jean/Hermione or just as Jean. If you have a preference either way let me know.