Time Boat

{1}

{1-Trust Your Gut}

Hermione wasn't sure how... or why she felt like waking up that day was different, but for some reason, something felt off.

There was no explaining her dread as she awoke to consciousness, her mind fuzzy and intuition going haywire. It was as though her mind was blinking like a neon "Open" sign did at night, but this one read more like an alert.

Hermione's eyes were heavy, and the foreboding feeling simply wouldn't shake. So, with trepidation tearing through her limbs, she opened her eyes and saw the same ceiling she'd fallen asleep under the past evening. It was dusty wood and beams, and if that wasn't a tell of the classic Hog's Head Inn, then she didn't know what was.

Relief filled her, and she stood up, grabbing her purse on the counter and shoving it over her shoulder.

Her evening in the Hog's Head Inn had only been for her worrisome nature of the upcoming school year. She'd decided, among a few other students who'd fought in the battle, to finish her final year at Hogwarts. It wasn't a hard decision to make, not really, because she needed a good education to foster a prosperous career in the ministry. She didn't want to miss out on any opportunity that could come from her having the full set of N.E.W.T.s, and she didn't mind learning. Never had she been like Harry and Ron, wanting nothing to do with reading or such, though they were both very bright in their own way. They were smart enough to take the fast-track Auror courses that was offered to them when Kingsley became Minister for Magic.

She had decided to travel lightly with her beaded bag, not wanting to carry a case so as to not draw attention her way. Everyone knew who she was now, for she was one of the Golden Trio that had fostered the end of Voldemort's sudden uprising. It was tedious, avoiding reporters with scribbling quills, and blinding cameras that repeated her five seconds of pain on an infinite loop. Hermione hated it, and she was glad to be going to Hogwarts, with professors who knew her, and students just the same.

The day was bright, for once, and Scotland seemed warm for September as she tugged a new set of clothes on and went downstairs to check out. The person who had been there the prior evening was not there now, but she'd hardly expected him to have been. It was afternoon now, and she was going to take her time climbing to the castle. By the looks of her watch she had plenty of time.

"How much do I owe you?" She asked, looking at the wizard in dirty-tan robes.

"4 Galleons and a Sickle."

Hermione did not remember the rate being that low, but she wasn't going to complain about the lower cost. The reason she'd even decided to pay in the morning was of how late she'd gotten in, not wanting to bother with the math. The wizard the previous night had recognized her anyways, and called her good for it.

She gave the man his money and smiled, wishing him a good day and leaving the premises with little problem. The inn had always been very dry, business wise.

Hermione walked through the crisp air and followed the path to her destination, feeling quite well as excitement bubbled. Oh, she'd been looking forward to these classes for almost two years now, though she doubted she could learn as much in a classroom as she did in a tent in the woods trying to save the world. But, Hermione enjoyed her education, as she'd thought so many times before, and was ready for a mundane year at Hogwarts.

Hermione, like Harry, was never destined to have such a thing, however.

When she walked up to the Professor at the gate, obviously one of the new hires, for she didn't recognize him, she smiled politely.

"I'm here for my Seventh Year."

The man looked at her strangely, but then shrugged and flipped through his parchment roughly, obtaining the final page on his stack.