Your Hidden Past

'You're joking.'

The voice held disbelief; the slightest sting of betrayal. The light streaming into the small, grimy window hit Ron's face, making his freckles stand out against his pale skin. His eyes were framed by dark circles; they'd been travelling for four days, without sleep.

Harry could only raise his shoulders slightly, not knowing what to say or think, either. He'd stopped thinking when Tonks's Patronus had informed him of the break-in when they'd met up this morning.

'But that's – Wormtail? Malfoy?'

Harry nodded.

'Blimey.'

'I'm not very fond of joint assignments,' Professor Vector said, and Hermione pulled her attention away from her thoughts (Harry; Ron; Southampton, now; Manchester next) and back to the front of the class. 'But this essay will count for forty five percent towards your final NEWT grade, and the calculations are complicated.'

Someone at the front of the class raised a hand. 'Will we get to choose our partners?'

Professor Vector shook her head. 'I had a talk with your House Professors, and together, we divided you into pairs. We took utmost care; your partner will have strengths in an area you have weaknesses in.'

Lily, who was sitting next to Hermione, raised her hand. 'When will they be announced?'

'There will be a note pinned to your common room notice board after this lesson. Now, let us continue with the theory of Pythagoras, and why you can use it to solve early Greek equations.'

'Strengths?' Lily asked softly, and Hermione whispered back, 'Isopsephy, mostly.'

Lily threw her a disappointed look. 'Worst luck,' she muttered. Hermione, silently, disagreed.

'Edward McMillan isn't too shabby. He's good at equations.'

Lily sounded like she was trying harder to convince herself of that fact than Hermione.

'He is sort of strange, though,' Hermione noted.

'Yeah,' Lily agreed, resting her head on her hands, leaning on the table with her elbows. 'Congratulations on getting Remus, though, I'm jealous.'

Hermione bit back a smile. 'Oh, honestly, it's just an assignment.'

Lily looked at her. 'If you say so.'

'I think Saturday is fine,' Remus said, when Hermione caught him after Defence. He looked to be in a hurry, and kept glancing back at Sirius, who was standing by the door.

'But I can't –' Hermione started, and Remus threw her a grin. 'Twelve-ish? Thanks.' And with that, he had dashed off. '– on Saturday,' Hermione finished, rather unnecessarily.

Lily patted her shoulder comfortingly. 'It's quite all right; I could take over for you.'

Hermione raised on eyebrow. 'You'll go to Hogsmeade with Richard for me?'

Lily gave her an apologetic grin. 'Maybe you can just tell him?'

'And say what?' Hermione said, as they made their way out of the classroom and towards the Great Hall. '"Oh, dreadfully sorry, but I have to cancel our appointment because I have to study with Remus?"'

Lily wrinkled her nose. 'Appointment sound so formal.'

'Well, it's not a date, we're going as friends,' Hermione insisted, pushing her Defence books back into her bag. There was a loud thud following that, but neither of the girls noticed as they took a left into another corridor.

Near the staircases leading up to the Divination Tower, on the same floor, Richard Davies stood, shaking ever so slightly.

Hermione found that she woke up on Saturday without even remembering how she'd gotten there; the week had flown by.

She dressed without a care for her appearance, only half-heartedly running a brush through her hair and deciding to tie it up into a messy bun, in the end. The mirror sleepily mumbled something about 'looking fetching', and Hermione shortly told it to mind its own business.

The remainder of the morning she spend re-reading Daniel Deronda, and at a quarter to, she sat up neatly in the cosy, red armchair, waiting.

Remus stumbled in at twelve exactly, looking dishevelled. Hermione stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. 'Library?' Remus asked. Hermione nodded and followed him out the portrait hole.

Hermione formed a friendship with Remus over time. She hadn't intended to take things down this path – she wasn't sure what sort of complications befriending people who still knew her in her future had; neither was she very keen on finding out.

But it seemed impossible not to like Remus. He was very smart, polite and funny. Hermione found herself, against her better judgement, fascinated by the way his dirty blond-brown hair fell to his chin, curling around the shell of his ears, and the way his dark blue eyes lit up whenever they managed to sort out an equation.

Lily teased her about it; she said it made sense Remus would make friends with the smart, intriguing new girl in their year.

The only thing Hermione didn't like about Remus was the way she sometimes caught him looking at her. His eyes would narrow slightly, and his brows would furrow in thought; he seemed to think she was some sort of puzzle – one he would like to figure out.

'Well, of course, this should be fourteen; it's the only possible outcome –'

Hermione had her head buried in a very fat book that lay open on the table. Remus was sitting across from her, swiping his hair out of his eyes in an impatient gesture.

'Why, though?' Remus asked, and Hermione sighed deeply in her distress.

Lupin was annoying; he always wanted to be right, and he didn't think anything of prodding and tugging for so many hours on one little detail, even she didn't care if it was right or wrong in the end, as long as he wrote it down.

'Because,' Hermione snapped, slamming the book shut with her hand, 'if it was eleven, it would disjoint the entire process, because eleven isn't one of the destiny numbers.'

'Isn't it?'

Remus didn't look offended at her tone; there was a small smile tugging at his lips.

Hermione pressed her lips together.

'I think you will find,' Remus said, standing up and gently pushing her hands aside. When he stood behind her, he opened the book to one of the pages without even looking at the page number, 'that eleven is a destiny number, just as much as, ah, fourteen is.'

He pointed at a particular paragraph, and Hermione found herself blushing for no particular reason at all, staring at the book even after he'd left.

"Many a numerologists have made the common mistake of dismissing eleven as an answer to any question; often choosing to use a supposedly 'even' number, such as twelve or fourteen, instead. But out of all numbers, eleven is often thought of as the perfect number in numerology. When divided or multiplied, eleven turns itself into two other double digits; twenty-two and five-and-a-half, and it is the only number that does so."

Author's Note: it's been almost a year. I confess: I had not intended to prolong the release of this chapter for such a long time, and I apologise. Even thought this chapter is short, I think you should all hold your horses a bit longer – there's a surprise on the way.

On another note, with the release of the seventh book, this has officially strayed even more deeply in the AU world than I would've liked. I therefore thought I'd give you lot a fair warning before hand: Your Hidden Past is not going to follow in its footsteps. I'm keeping things "the right way" up until the sixth book.

Also, I've quite purposely not done research for this chapter; my claims of numerology are not correct, but this misinformation is needed for my more evil purposes. Thank you.