A/N: And we're back! Work... lockdown... etc. etc. Apologies for the delay!

Harry was surprised when only a day later, Poppy declared him free to escape from the pleasure of her company. During his convalescence, the story of what happened on Halloween night had spread like wildfire throughout the school and Hermione, Susan and Hannah, who were waiting to escort Harry down to the Great Hall for dinner, filled him in on what he'd missed in the last 24 hours.

"The night after Halloween, Professor Dumbledore stood up at dinner and initially tried to play down what had happened but he was too late," Hannah began. "Nearly everyone that saw you take on that Troll had already sent a letter home."

"Including me." Susan picked up the story. "And Auntie Amelia was not happy."

"I think I can imagine her reaction," Harry grinned at Susan. "So what happened next?"

"Well," said Hannah, "last night, the Headmaster had a few visitors during dinner."

Hermione snorted. "A few? The entire board of Governors to start. Then Susan's Aunt, the Minister and a handful of Aurors arrived and were followed by… well… someone from almost every pureblood family with a child at the school. Not just from those in Slytherin or Hufflepuff either, but Ravenclaw and Gryffindor too. We only caught the Governers starting to scream at Dumbledore for putting the students in danger before silencing charms went up and we were all sent to our common rooms. Fred and George told us this morning there were still people arriving to shout at the staff a couple of hours later." She glanced over at Harry as they neared the Great Hall then pulled him to a stop, motioning for Susan and Hannah to go on ahead. "Listen," she whispered, "we've been bombarded with questions about you for the last few days." Hermione hesitated and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "The reaction when you walk in is going to seem a bit… much. Just go with it OK?"

Nervously Harry approached the doors to the Great Hall with Hermione a step or two behind him. From the amount of noise being generated, it appeared that every student was in attendance – something he later found out to be true as Dumbledore had declared the meal that evening to be a compulsory school feast along the lines of the welcoming or leaving feast, rather than the normal dinner service. Harry took a deep breath and caught Hermione's eye and she gestured encouragingly. He cautiously pushed the door open and, for a brief moment, all noise stopped when, as one, the students turned to see the boy they'd be waiting for. An explosion of cheering, stamping feet, clapping hands and whistling almost deafened Harry as he eased into the Hall, blushing furiously. He and Hermione quickly made their way to their usual seats at the Hufflepuff table and sat as their schoolmates from all four houses continued to show their appreciation for his actions.

Eventually, the noise began to lessen and Dumbledore rose to stand behind the golden owl lectern. He raised his hands to draw the students attention and waited until they had quietened and sat back in their seats. "Excellent! I'm sure Mr Potter very much appreciated your welcome, and I do have a few words to say regarding his actions but, for now, let the feast begin!" He clapped his hands twice and the house tables groaned under the weight of all the delicious food that appeared.

A short time later, the last crumbs of the dessert had been consumed and the Headmaster rose again. He surveyed the Great Hall over the top of his glasses with his blue eyes twinkling. "I know that many, if not all of you, will have heard this story already but if you'll indulge me, I would like to speak to you of the actions of Mr Potter this past Halloween." He paused, dramatically. "As you all know, during the feast our own Professor Quirrell," the Headmaster gestured without turning to the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who sat, stony-faced at the head table, "entered this very hall and informed us all of a Troll that had somehow found a gap in the school wards, and managed to enter the castle. Let me reassure you all that this has since been dealt with and you have no need to worry about any further incursions taking place." Dumbledore looked out across the sea of students and saw that several expressions that had tightened when he mentioned the Troll's access, relaxed with his assurance. "As directed, each house began to return to their common rooms and it was during this journey that the Troll managed to find itself between the entireties of both Slytherin House and Hufflepuff House. Mr Gareth Sykes, Seventh Year Prefect for Slytherin, was injured by the Troll and, as it approached the Slytherin students, Harry Potter jumped onto it's back and managed to cast the Reductor curse – a spell far in advance of his current age, but which saved the lives of students from both houses. Harry then passed out due to magical exhaustion and has spent the last three days recovering under the care of our own, excellent Madam Pomfrey." Dumbledore looked down the Hufflepuff table and focussed on the boy who, up until now, had shown none of the impulsiveness he'd anticipated, but who'd exceeded his wildest expectations in this single action. "Harry, would you please stand?"

Harry rose slowly to his feet and looked up at the Headmaster.

"For your courage and determination in the face of danger, and your actions in attempting to save the lives of your peers, I hereby award you 200 house points and a Special Award for Services to the School. Please come up here Harry."

Once again, the Great Hall erupted with cheering and clapping but slowly died off as the students realised that Harry Potter had yet to move. When the noise died down again Harry spoke.

"Thank you, Sir, but, before I join you, can I ask you something?"

Dumbledore's smile faltered as he watched the boy he was trying to commend disobey his direction. Little brat, embarrassing me in front of the students, he thought, he needs to be put in his place. Dumbledore forced a chuckle. "Obviously, you've just done so. You may ask me one more thing, however." That should do it, lets see if he likes being talked down to in front of his peers.

Harry inclined his head, ignoring the passive-aggressive manner in which the Headmaster had responded.

"Thank you. Will Gareth Sykes be receiving an award as well, Sir?"

Dumbledore froze. Whatever he'd expected Harry's question to be, this hadn't been anywhere close to it. He'd hoped that this snub would pass unnoticed – he couldn't have a Slytherin being given the same award as the boy-who-lived. That would fly in the face of all the work he had done to create enmity between Slytherin and the other houses – years of turning a blind eye and being lenient to Gryffindors (and those few he'd chosen from the 'lesser' houses of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff) while encouraging Slytherin to circle the wagons with an 'everyone hates us' attitude, allowing feelings of hostility and resentment to grow. Dumbledore suddenly became aware that he had not yet answered to Harry and the mutterings that he could hear from all four house tables left him with a need to respond quickly.

"I don't think this is the time…" Dumbledore blustered, but Harry cut him off.

"Actually Headmaster I think this is exactly the time." Harry set his back to the Headmaster and looked across the hall, making sure to meet the eyes of at least one member of each house as he did so. "Gareth Sykes wasn't just 'injured by the Troll'. He was the first to step up and try to protect the members of Hufflepuff and Slytherin and was grievously hurt in the process. My thoughts - and thanks for his attempt to protect us - are with Gareth Sykes tonight as he recovers at St Mungo's." Harry turned once more to face the Headmaster who was struggling to contain his anger at being so publicly slighted. "I'm afraid Sir, I have to respectfully decline the award at this time. If Mr Sykes were to receive the same consideration in the future, I would, of course, be happy to accept this honour." With this, and in complete silence, Harry sat back down and smiled at Hermione as she bumped his hip with hers and beamed at him in approval. He glanced over at the head table and caught Severus' eye, receiving a slight quirk of the lips in reply – small enough to be missed unless you happened to be looking for it. Professor Quirrell appeared to be amused by his speech and Dumbledore's reaction to it – the Headmaster was still stood at the lectern and staring down at Harry – while the other Heads of Houses smiled brightly at his words.

Unsurprisingly, it was the Hufflepuff table that rose first as one to applaud their housemate for his loyalty and honesty but remarkably it was Slytherin that climbed to their feet next to laud the boy-who-lived, closely followed by Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and finally, the members of staff sat at the head table. Without being formally dismissed, the students slowly filed out of the Great Hall, leaving the Headmaster to wonder where that night's celebration had gone wrong.

Harry made himself comfortable in his usual chair in the Hufflepuff common room and looked into the fire. As he waited for Hermione so they could go to breakfast, he considered the events of the last week. They had conversed long into the night, trying to discern how the Troll had ended up in a different location to their previous experience and could find no definitive answer, instead only being able to postulate that, in addition to having it serve as a distraction, Quirrell had deliberately placed the Troll in Harry's path, perhaps in the hope that it would kill him. The bathroom where Hermione had been trapped last time was not directly on the route to the Gryffindor common room, but close enough that the Troll could have simply wandered from its original location, and there was no doubting that this time around the Troll had been in the exact right place to intercept the Hufflepuff and Slytherin students.

As concerning as the differences in their encounters with the Troll were, Harry had been more astonished when a week later, he'd still received no summons to visit the Headmaster. Following his act of defiance in declining the award, he'd believed a confrontation was inevitable. Dumbledore, however, appeared to be going out of his way to avoid any contact with him at all – something that was making Harry nervous. Directly manipulative Dumbledore was, on the whole, fairly easy to deal with – not necessarily his machinations themselves (those could be all kinds of trouble), but the grandfather act, the 'I know what's best for you' attitude and the damn twinkling-blue eyes that encourage you to make enough eye-contact for a subtle legilimency probe to slip past your defences. It was when he went quiet that made Harry feel on edge.

"Harry!" Hermione almost shouted from right next to his ear. He blinked in surprise and looked over at his best friend who had an exasperated expression on her face, and to Susan and Hannah who were hiding their giggles with their hands over their mouths. "Honestly, Harry! We've been calling you for the last five minutes!"

"Sorry," Harry blushed, rose from the chair and followed his friends to the Great Hall.

Harry was buttering a slice of toast when the noise level in the hall picked up with the arrival of the morning post. As he usually did, Harry glanced up at the owls that were streaming in but, not spotting Hedwig, he moved his focus back to his meal. This meant he was caught by surprise when the first owl – a beautiful, mottled grey-brown coloured bird with two feathered tufts on top of its head – held it's leg out to him for him claim its burden. Not recognising the owl, Harry cautiously retrieved the letter and slipped it a treat from his pocket. The unknown owl gracefully lifted from the table and Harry was watching it fly from the hall and out-of-sight when a hoot brought his attention back to the table in front of him. He was surprised to see a queue of perhaps a dozen more birds awaiting his attention.

"What's going on?" he asked those around him, a puzzled expression on his face. His question was answered by a bright-red Tracey Davies who was looked mortified and had dashed over to where Harry was seated, closely followed by Daphne who appeared to be trying, and failing, to hold in laughter.

"Oh, Merlin! I'm sorry Harry! That owl belongs to my family. If that letter is what I think it is, I'm going to kill my parents when I get home!"

"What is it you think it is?" Harry asked as his friends helped unload the owls of their burdens.

"It's probably better if you just look," she began. "Just know didn't ask them to do it OK?"

Harry carefully opened the envelope and withdrew the parchment from within. His friends watched as he read the enclosed letter in silence and jumped when he let out a loud yelp. His eyes were wide as he alternated staring down at the parchment and up at Tracey, who was now looking like she wished the ground would swallow her up.

"What… I mean…" Harry spluttered.

"Oh, Merlin." Tracey groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

"Listen… Tracey…" It was hard to tell if Harry or Tracey were now flushing a deeper red and looking more awkward. "You know I like you but I'm not…" Harry waved the letter in one hand and gestured at it with the other.

"No! Not at all! I understand!"

"What's going on?" whispered Hermione to Susan, but before she could answer Harry took a deep breath, gathered himself then stood and placed a hand on Tracey's shoulder, silently asking her to meet his eyes. When she did, Harry smiled comfortingly and spoke formally.

"Miss Davies. I must offer my most humble apologies for my initial reaction – I'm afraid your father's letter caught me by surprise. As honoured as I am by his offer of a betrothal between us, I'm afraid I cannot accept. My intent on Halloween was not to make anyone feel beholden to me, simply to try to protect those who were in danger of being harmed. My parents were clear in their wishes for me. If I do marry when I'm much, much older," Harry paused and was pleased to see Tracey's blush subside and the corners of her mouth twitch up, "they want it to be for love, and I intend to see that wish fulfilled." Harry paused again. "I will, of course, write to your father and make him aware of this. I do hope this won't affect our friendship at all?"

"Not at all Lord Potter," she replied, standing straighter and regaining the familiar, teasing lilt in her voice. "And thank you," she said under her breath so only Harry could hear. Harry gave one final squeeze of her shoulder and shot her a bright smile before dropping his hand and returning to the table. He gathered up the rest of the letters and whispered to Hermione that he was going to speak to Sirius, before leaving the hall at a dignified pace to the combined whisperings of all those present.

When Harry still hadn't appeared at lunchtime, Hermione went looking for him and eventually found him in a secluded spot, sat on a rock looking out over the Black Lake.

"Harry?" she called softly as she approached him.

Harry looked up, "Hey Hermione." He shifted over so she could sit next to him. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Hermione spoke again.

"So… betrothal contracts then…"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah – 23 of them in the end from parents of students in all houses and across all 7 years. Sirius said he'd take care of responding to them as my guardian. Apparently, saying no has to be done in a particular way to avoid insulting anyone accidentally. The contracts are a Pureblood custom it seems."

"But there was never a contract between Ron and I."

"I asked Sirius about that. He said there were two – well, three – reasons for that. First, the Weasley's are poor enough that they wouldn't be able to afford any sort of bride price. Second, as you're a Muggleborn, our current society would consider it beneath them to offer a contract."

"And third?" Hermione asked quietly.

"And third…" Harry hesitated and turned to face Hermione. He took her hands in his and squeezed them. "There was no need for a contract as they were already controlling you with potions and charms. Why spend money on something they'd already taken?"

Harry could feel Hermione tremble as she twisted her head to look out over the lake, hiding her tears from Harry.

"Hermione –" Harry said softly. "I think we need to talk about your marriage, and what happened when you met my mum."

Hermione stilled, then nodded, her shoulders slumped. "Not here though Harry. Let's go to the room of requirement."

Harry watched in silence as Hermione paced back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall. When the door appeared Hermione opened it without a word and stepped inside, then held the door as he joined her. The room Hermione had asked for was a bedroom – her bedroom at her parents' house if Harry were to guess. The walls were a soft purple colour, with pastel blues, purples and greens on the bedding and furnishings. A couple of large bookcases, stuffed to the brim with both muggle and magical texts, covered the bulk of one wall and a large, comfortable love-seat with a standing lamp arching over the top created a perfect recreational reading area. A good-sized desk and chair sat in front of large windows overlooking a neat, pleasant garden and next to the desk were more, low bookcases, upon which sat a radio, a stuffed toy and a photo of her with her parents. On the walls were hung several pieces of art – each in keeping the colour theme of her room – and a large bulletin board that was covered in photographs and certificates was carefully mounted next to the double bed.

Hermione watched Harry as he turned, taking everything in. She looked nervous as she awaited the opinion of her best friend and was relieved when he faced her with a huge smile on his face.

"Perfectly Hermione." He said as she relaxed and sat down on the love-seat. Harry made to pull the desk chair over but was stopped by Hermione who patted the space next to her instead. Harry sat down and pulled one leg up underneath himself so he could face her as they spoke. Not knowing where to begin, he simply sat in silence and allowed Hermione to gather her thoughts.

"When I couldn't recover my parent's memories, I chose not to sell this house – I kept it instead. This was a place I could come to and wrap myself up in thoughts of my childhood, of times laughing and joking with my Mum and Dad, of playing games and reading with my family." Hermione began speaking slowly, as though she were drawing out the memories. "Before Rosie and Hugo were born, when Ron and I had big arguments I used to come here, bundle up in my duvet and cry myself to sleep. I remember laying here and thinking of all the times Ron had been mean to me… hurt me with his words… how miserable that made me feel. When I woke up the following morning I always felt stupid – like I'd overreacted the night before. That things weren't as bad as I was making them out to be and I'd go back to Ron and apologise." She took a shaky breath. "Did you know, I can count on one hand the number of times he apologised to me over those years?"

Harry remained silent, allowing her to vent her feelings, but was recalling a previous conversation they'd had. I thought she said it was just that she'd had enough of the bickering?

"And after Rosie was born… I couldn't just walk out and leave her with him could I? So I just… stopped. Stopped arguing. Stopped fighting. Just let him have his way. I focussed all my energy on my work and my children, believing I could use that as an outlet."

"I remember," Harry said softly. "You stopped coming round to the house and whenever we popped over you were working. Why didn't you come and talk to me, Hermione? You know I'd have tried to help you."

"Would you?" she spoke sharply. "In school, you nearly always took Ron's side over mine whether it was - " she stopped suddenly, "I'm sorry."

"Hermione - that was, and is, one of my biggest regrets. I can't excuse my behaviour back then but Ron was my very first friend – I was terrified of losing him. Looking back now I can see what a doormat I was. Whatever Ron wanted to do, I let him – never willing to fight him for anything. Look at the Tri-Wizard for god's sake – he knew about those dragons in the first task way before I did and never said anything, but when he rolled up with his non-apology I just let him back in – and pushed you out again too." Harry slipped off the seat and knelt in front of her. "Hermione?" He lifted her chin gently with two fingers so she was looking him in the eye. "I'm so sorry."

Hermione burst into tears and dropped off the seat and into his arms. Harry held her as she cried and, once her sobs had turned to sniffles, she whispered a thank you and the pair resumed their previous places on the couch.

Hermione took a tremulous breath and continued her story. "Once I became Minister, Ron's temper got worse and worse. He didn't hit me," Hermione added quickly, seeing the glint of anger in Harry's eyes, "but there was a constant barrage of abuse. I'd go into work and be the confident, self-assured Minister for Magic, then come home and become the meek little housewife that just took the insults he would dish out."

"And then what happened?" Harry asked gently.

"One day I'd just had enough and took off my rings. I remember looking at them laying there on the table and feeling freer than I had done in a long time. I looked at my life and, bar Rosie and Hugo, I hated what I'd become. I didn't want to live that way anymore." Tears were streaming down her face again and Harry rubbed her back consolingly.

"I did come to see you, you know? One night, about seven or eight months before we came back. I needed someone to talk to that wouldn't judge me." Harry looked quizzically at her as he tried to remember when that could have been. "I knocked on your door and Ginny answered. When I asked to speak to you she practically sneered at me that you were busy and didn't want to talk to me about any of my problems with Ron – that he was your best friend and always would be. She told me to grow up, go home to my husband and just deal with my problems – that I couldn't come running to you for help all the time because you had your own family now. Then she closed the door in my face."

Harry had gotten progressively angrier as Hermione spoke and only the need to comfort Hermione stopped him from jumping up and storming around the room in a rage. Seeing how hurt she was he forced his fury back down and tried to regain control.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he said, finally calm enough to speak. "I didn't even know you'd been round. Ginny never said a word…"

"I know, I found that out later…" she trailed off into silence and stared into the corner of her room.

After a few minutes, she began to speak again. "After Dolohov's curse hit us on the platform, I woke up in what looked like The British Library. I sat at a desk in one of the reading rooms and then your mum appeared. She thanked me for looking after you during our school years, and apologised to me on your behalf for being such an idiot at times." Hermione let out a watery chuckle and Harry grinned sheepishly. "She told me all about what the Weasleys did to us. Explained the charms on my rings and why I felt better when they were off. She told me that I needed to go back in time, to fix the past and prevent the future we were barrelling into. She didn't tell me you would be back too so I'll be having words with her when we see her again." Hermione looked skywards and shook her fist which made Harry laugh out loud. Hermione smiled at the sound of his laughter but the sparkle soon faded from her eyes. "She told me about the future. About what would happen if I didn't change things…" she trailed off once more.

"Did she say anything about this new Dark Lord we're supposed to stop from rising?"

Hermione refused to meet Harry's eye and instead stared at the thick blue carpet covering the floor. "Lily showed me the future. Molly had taken Hugo on the day I presented the divorce papers to Ron. He lost it. Screaming at me and throwing things. Eventually, he shoved me out of the way as he stormed to the floo. I fell and hit my head on the corner of the table and passed out. When I woke up I was covered in blood and had a throbbing headache." She hesitate momentarily before gathering herself and pushing on. "Ron had tied me to a chair and taken my wand. He forced my mouth open and poured a potion down my throat. Whatever it was, it made me obey him absolutely. The divorce papers got ripped up, I resigned my position as Minister and retreated back into the house, acting as his personal slave. He kept me like that for years. I saw him bring other women back to our house… he would make me sit in the corner of the room and watch while he…" She took a shuddering breath. "There were things your mum wouldn't show me. I think I can guess what they were but…"

Harry sat in shock, and felt the last remnants of love that he'd had for Ginny, and for Ron – as close to him as a brother at one time - shatter. From Hermione's story, it was clear that it wasn't just Molly that had been involved in keeping both of them under control.

Hermione resumed now in a detached voice. "Years later, after the kids had finished at Hogwarts, Hugo came to visit as a surprise. He saw Ron force me to take the potion. He watched as his father beat his mother then forced himself upon her. He tried to intervene, to stop what was happening, but Ron knocked him down and called for backup over the floo. Molly arrived and tried to Obliviate my son but he got away. Hugo tried to get me help and to get a measure of justice for what I was going through but after I resigned as Minister, the Pureblood bigots got control of the Government again. I was replaced by Lucius Malfoy who promptly manage to pass laws making Muggleborns no better than chattel. Hugo and Rosie tried to fight but…"

Unconsciously Hermione had tightened her grip on Harry's hand and, although he winced at the pressure applied, he made no move to have her release it.

"In the end, the Ministry grew tired of their repeated rebellions and quietly sent someone to 'silence the dissenters'. Rosie was killed and Hugo lost an eye, but managed to kill the men that had been sent after them." Hermione finally looked up from the carpet and met Harry's eyes once more. "One of the things Hugo inherited from his father was his temper. He went into a blind rage and began killing people. Ron, Ginny and Molly were some of the first. He targeted the Purebloods and cut down almost a whole generation of Witches and Wizards. Finally, you were sent to confront him…"

Hermione turned her gaze away from Harry and looked out of the window. "When you met him, the boy that you'd read to, played with and taught was gone. Hugo was gone. In his place stood a man whose only aim was to cause as much harm and damage as he possibly could. I don't think he even recognised you as you stood opposite him. His curse cut you down as you pleaded with him to lay down his wand. After that, he made his move on the Minister – by this time Draco had taken over from his father. Hugo attacked during a meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister and killed everyone in the room. From there, our secret was out and the Muggles in every country destroyed any Magical they could lay their hands on. The barriers that hid our world fell – Diagon Alley and Hogwarts were destroyed. The Merpeople, House Elves, Centaurs and Goblins were all wiped out. All because of my little boy…"

Hermione let out a wail of anguish and collapsed into Harry's embrace.

Several hours later, Hermione untangled herself from Harry's protective grasp. She felt… lighter. Cleaner somehow having shared the terrible future she had been shown. Harry stood, smoothing down his rumpled clothes and motioned for Hermione to stay put. He returned a short while later with a basket full of food that he'd retrieved from the kitchens. They ate in silence then sat together on the love-seat once more.

"Thank you for telling me," Harry said softly.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner – I've struggled to accept that my son… my little boy… could do something so… so… monstrous."

"You don't need to apologise to me. I just hope it helped you – I know I felt like a weight had been lifted from me when I unloaded on Sirius."

Hermione nodded and sat up straighter. "It did – thank you." She looked once more out of the window. "We've got a lot of work to do to stop what I saw from occurring. I know it won't be Hugo this time but it could just as easily be anyone else if we allow those conditions to thrive again."

Harry watched Hermione carefully as she looked at the picture by her bedside. "Can I ask… knowing what you know, how can you bear to be in the same building as Ron? Just hearing your story makes me want to take a walk to the Gryffindor common room and destroy him."

She stood and began to pace. "Honestly? I can't. I spent my first year back practicing Occlumency so I could control myself around the Weasleys. I'm so far beyond furious at what they did to me. I see that walking mouth, that heaving pile of sputum and I want to cut him in half." Hermione's voice rose shrilly as she became angrier. Her control over her magic began to slip. Objects in the room around them began to shake, the photo of her with her parents flew off the side and smashed into the opposite wall and her hair began to visibly frizz and float off her shoulders as the magic in the atmosphere became almost overwhelming. "They used potions and charms on me to make me believe I loved Ron, to make me give myself to him. That disgusting little maggot raped me. I feel violated in the worst possible way and it's only you, and what we need to accomplish, that is stopping me from tearing him, his sister and his mother into pieces so small they wouldn't be able to be identified!"

Abruptly, Hermione regained control of her magic once more. The objects stopped vibrating, her hair, although retaining its new levels of frizziness, fell back onto her shoulders and she glanced ruefully at the picture before tapping it with her wand and muttering the repairing charm under her breath. She set it back on the side and turned to her best friend once more.

Harry had been frozen in his seat as the waves of magic poured off her but as she faced him once more he leapt out of the chair and pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in her hair. He felt her arms slip around him and return his embrace with equal fervour.

"I'm worried about you Hermione." He whispered into her hair. "You can't hold that anger inside you – you need to talk to someone."

"I am." She replied softly. "Mum trained in Psychotherapeutic Counselling a few years ago. She tends to focus on Dentistry still, but talking to her has helped. I know ideally, I'd talk to someone outside of my family but who else can I tell I'm a witch who has had her memories from three decades into the future transported back into her 11-year-old self…"

Unable to help himself, Harry snorted and inhaled some of Hermione's hair, causing him to collapse onto her bed in a coughing fit. When he had regained control, he looked up at Hermione and saw her smiling at him fondly. "Are you OK?" he asked seriously.

"No," she replied. "But I will be."

Pulling Harry to his feet, the pair of them left the room with hands clasped and slowly made their way back to the Hufflepuff common room.