My desktop computer decided to die on me - new motherboard on the way - which means that I have no access to all of my existing projects. Of course, I'd get into a writing mood at the very same time, so you guys are getting a new story. It will be multi-chap, though I have no real plan as to how far I'll go with it, or how long of a story it will become in the process. For now, I offer chapter one of "Telling Time". A new twist on an old concept. I do hope you all enjoy.

A woman with curly brown hair, about forty, appeared out of nowhere in an empty corridor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Well, I'm back," she muttered, slipping the necklace she was wearing under the cover of her black robes. She'd been in this very spot when her adventures had begun all those years ago, though to the people in the castle now, she'd been gone for so short a time that her absence had not even been noticed. If her memory served correctly, she should be heading to Potions class, though it would be awkward to go sit in a class full of fourteen year olds. She'd have to explain, of course, but she wasn't about to do that in front her a large group of children and one snarky Potions Master. No, she'd go to the Headmaster - he'd know what to do. In all her planning, she'd not really considered how to handle coming back here - she just worked tirelessly on getting this far.

Hermione Granger cast a notice-me-not charm on herself and headed toward Dumbledore's office. It didn't take long to find - these halls were still very familiar. She'd been here as they'd been built. The Head Tower used to be Salazar's offices, and Hermione felt her gut lerch at the reality check of how she'd never see Salazar, or Rowena, or Helga, or Godric ever again. History had never told much about who they were, just what they did. But Hermione knew. Gods, she knew and knew well.

As she approached the Stone Gargoyles, she smiled a little, remembering something that Albus probably didn't even know about. "Hassalessar. Sessissens," she hissed. Briefly, Hermione wondered if Tom Riddle had ever realized the Head's office could be accessed by parseltongue. While not a gift Hermione had been born with, Salazar had given her a potion to make her one, which she thought would probably be useful in the coming years. War was inevitable, she knew, even if the majority of the wizarding world was not ready to accept the threat of Voldemort. He would rise again, and then, chaos.

Albus Dumbledore was not in his office. Rather, the Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall, sat at his desk, frowning over some parchment. Hermione smiled at the woman, who had yet to notice her, thinking that perhaps Professor McGonagall would be the best one to talk to after all, given that it was McGonagall who had given her the original time turner. "Professor?" she greeted carefully, wand at the ready. When she left, she'd been a child, and she was wary that the Deputy would not recognize her, only seeing an intruder she couldn't identify.

McGonagall's wand was pointed at her moments later, and held steadily on its target as the Scottish Witch moved away from the desk and toward the uninvited guest. "Who are you, and how the bloody hell did you get into this office?" she asked.

Hermione was taken aback at the colorful language coming out of her former Professor's lips. The McGonagall she remembered never swore at all, though the brunette's mind quickly reasoned that McGonagall would have guarded her language around the students. As far as she was concerned now, her visitor was a fellow adult. No need to put on hiers.

"I got in with the original password for this tower," Hermione said quietly. "Which will override any current password. Who I am is the third year student that you issued a time turner to, several months ago by your recalling. For me, it's been thirty years in the past since I'd been heading down to the Potions class taking place at this very moment."

McGonagall's face went pale. "Hermione Granger," she whispered, lowering her wand.

Hermione had expected to be recognized once a frame of reference was given, and it was obvious that Minerva did not doubt her conclusion at all. "Yes," she said simply. There was nothing else to say.

"Where, or rather when have you been?" the older woman asked, ushering Hermione to join her on the nearby sofa.

"I arrived in 988, just before the four ponces you all call The Founders broke ground to build Hogwarts," she replied with a reminiscent grin. "I popped into this large field, right on top of Godric. He never did let me live that down."

"Godric… as in Godric Gryffindor?" came an amazed question.

Hermione nodded. "Depending on the day, he was either insufferably cheerful or woefully depressive. There's so much, Professor, so much that the modern Wizarding world doesn't know about them. They had no reason to, but they took me in. Underage laws didn't exist then, so I was able to help them build the school."

"Salazar Slytherin, pureblood extremist, sheltered a muggleborn witch?" McGonagall asked, obviously shocked.

Hermione laughed. "Of the four, he is the most misrepresented by history. Salazar was a good man. What people don't stop to consider is that in their time, the wards we have today had only begun developing, and they were developed because witches and wizards were being murdered by muggles who feared them and their power. He was justified in his desire to segregate. It was not about hating muggles, per se, but about protecting wizarding kind. The only muggles he hated were the ones who'd taken part in the killing."

The other woman looked thoughtful, and then blinked at Hermione as if suddenly remembering who she was talking to and what problems that presented. "Miss Granger…"

"Professor, I'm forty-five years old. "Please, just call me Hermione."

"Minerva, then," the other woman agreed, seeing the oddity in addressing a grown woman as she would a child. "As you just pointed out, you're an adult. An adult with no Hogwarts transcripts, and should you explain your situation to the Ministry, they will undoubtedly arrest you, assuming that you'd tampered with the timeline at some point in the last several decades, and you'd be sent to Azkaban."

"Well I'd really rather avoid that, if you'd be so kind as to not turn me in. You didn't recognize me, so it's doubtful that anyone else will, either," Hermione mused. "If you're amicable about that, then the next question is how to explain Hermione Granger's disappearance, and how to explain Hermione Slytherin's arrival."

"Hermione Slytherin?"

"Generally a woman takes a man's surname when they've married," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow, and awaiting the Head of Gryffindor's reaction. She was not disappointed.

"You married Salazar Slytherin?!" Minerva gaped, looking affronted if not offended at the notion.

Hermione laughed outright. "For my protection, yes, and I'll admit that there were certain marital benefits, but the love we had for each other was no more than I had for Harry or Ron. The love given between close friends."

Minerva huffed. "That's only slightly reassuring. How do I know you've not gone all dark witch on me, in your absence?"

The younger woman looked incredulous.

"Alright, fine, stupid question," Minerva conceded. "Harry Potter is your best friend."

"Honestly, Minerva, I was thinking more along the lines of how I thought you knew me better than that. Realistically, I can't expect to continue with the friendships I left. It would be inappropriate for a forty-five year old woman to be close friends with two boys of the raging hormones age."

The other woman nodded. "So, back to the issue at hand… do you intend to keep the name Slytherin, or should be fashion you a new one?"

"Well, I suppose if you and I were to marry, I could take the name McGonagall," Hermione teased, "But sans that option, yes, I'd prefer to keep the name I've used for the last twenty-five years."

Minerva flustered, but said nothing.

"Oh, don't be like that," Hermione chastised. "The Wizarding world, then, had far less stingy views on sexuality. Salazar was not the only lover I've taken in the last three decades."

"Yes, well…"

Hermione smirked, amused that she'd gotten under Minerva's skin. She'd always suspected that her Transfiguration Professor leaned that way, though it hadn't really mattered much at the time. Now, Hermione found herself evaluating the older witch, woman to woman, and realized that there were many reasons to be attracted to Minerva. Of course, that was hardly the first thing she needed to worry about. Later, perhaps, she'd pursue the notion.

She pressed forward. "Given all that myself and the boys have gotten into in the last couple of years, I don't think it's unreasonable for you to tell my classmates that my parents have withdrawn me from Hogwarts and transferred me to another wizarding school - the boys will still be able to Owl me, and I can reply and still be a friend to them, but from a safe distance. When they are older, I'd like to tell them the truth."

Minerva nodded. "That's reasonable."

"Regarding my own doings in the present, I can claim to have been home educated, and go down to the Ministry and takes the NEWTS, which should allow me to transition into wizarding society. Job wise, I'm unsure."

"Remus won't be staying past this school year," Minerva mused. "If you can also test for a Mastery in Defense, I am certain I can talk Albus into giving you that post in September. Do you think you can manage to get all that testing done in four months?"

Hermione nodded. "Easily. I'll worry about that over the summer holiday. Until then, I can rent a room at the Three Broomsticks and be available if Harry manages to get himself into more trouble this year. I'm sure you understand when I say that even if I can't be an active presence in his life as his friend, Hermione Granger, I still want to be there for him. Ron, too."

"I'm getting the feeling that you'd already thought out this plan before you arrived, and you just played unsure to make me feel as though I had some input," Minerva grumbled.

The brunette laughed. "Well, I wasn't absolutely sure I could secure the Defense post, but given that no one has lasted more than a year in decades, it was a good bet the position would be available."

"How will you manage financially until September?"

"Sal left a few artifacts where I could find them, which I will be able to sell with little problem. That should tide me over," Hermione shrugged.

"I still can't imagine you married to him," Minerva mused. "How will we explain your having that name, on that note. His line died out years ago."

"Long lost relative," Hermione shrugged. "I'm a parselmouth now, and I am fairly sure that will make the purebloods, who'd be most skeptical, believe my claim."

Minerva nodded in agreement. "That takes care of the Wizarding World, I suppose, but Hermione, what about your parents?"

The younger witch frowned. "I'll tell them the truth. It'll be an adjustment; I'm their age now. I'm fairly sure they'll be understanding. I'm just glad I was able to come back right when I left, so they didn't have to worry about me for however long."

"I guess that's it then."

The silence that followed for the next few minutes was broken when Albus Dumbledore entered his office. "Well, Minerva. Who is this lovely woman? New paramour?"

Minerva looked aghast. Hermione tried not to snicker.

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