A/N: Kitty Qin- A scene where Hermione finds out about Harry's 'trip.' I know I said in the very last sentence of Forced Perception that Harry told no one about the trip, but I seriously couldn't resist doing this. It came out so easily. I'll do your other scene request soon, too!

Also, I realized that I made a mistake after I finished writing this. Hermione's supposed to be attending Hogwarts, I think. But oh well. This is a what-if story of a what-if story, so I'll just make her attend Hogwarts when I continue to write ones set in the 1990s.

Secrets

Hermione took pride in her knowledge, and when it came to her best friends, she knew everything about them.

She'd been around Harry and Ron for eight years, nearly half her life. She knew their quirks, knew how they'd react in almost any situation. Harry was head-strong and rushed into action without any sort of plan. He trusted his gut more than anything and always figured out a plan in the midst of the situation. He rarely told anyone anything, either, unless the person asked. He'd just wallow, try to hide that he was hurting, and remain quiet.

It was October when she and Harry were walking across the atrium in the Ministry of Magic.

"Oh, look, they've added the names to the memorial!" Hermione said, rushing forward to the fountain. Above them, a golden phoenix seemed to soar, wings out-stretched, a fierce gleam in its eyes.

Underneath the phoenix, a long list of names was carved into a golden scroll.

"There's Fred," Hermione said softly, placing a hand over her mouth as she stared at Fred Weasley (1978- 1998). Her eyes shifted to the left and immediately saw Remus Lupin (1960-1998) and Nymphadora Tonks Lupin (1973-1998). "And Remus, and Tonks."

Harry beside her, however, hadn't said a word as he gazed up at the memorial. Hermione glanced at him and saw how his eyes scanned the entire plate before fixing them to the left. Hermione tried to follow, but too many names from both wars were on the list. Much too many.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione muttered, finally realizing who was in that general direction. Indeed, Albus Dumbledore (1881-1997) stared back at her.

Harry looked away, then pointed toward other names. She noticed his hand shook. "There's Snape and my parents. And Sirius."

Hermione nodded, but she didn't look toward scroll again. She continued to look at Harry. His eyes shined behind his glasses, but Harry rarely cried. He just seemed to take everything as they came.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

He nodded, his eyes twitching straight back to Dumbledore's name before turning, his blue robe swishing behind him.

"Harry," Hermione said, jogging to catch up. She looked up at him, swearing that he'd grown at least two inches in early September. Not to mention that his jaw line seemed to fill out in the same amount of time. It was unnatural how fast he seemed to have grown. Mrs. Weasley had noticed, too, but Ron and George- the only two Weasley kids still living at the Borrow now- hadn't in their obliviousness of everything not related to the rebuilding of the British Ministry, Quidditch, and food.

Even more so, though, was the abrupt change in Harry's demeanor. She was sure he was less joyful than the rest of the Wizarding world since May, but he had every right to be the happiest person around. He was finally free of his burden of saving the world and killing Voldemort. But in reality, he seemed to have thrown himself into work as an Auror. He'd worked long hours over the summer, making sure that every Death Eater found themselves in custody.

Yet since September, he seemed less focused on that. He was more willing to talk to Ron and Hermione and even visited Hogwarts a few times to see Ginny. Hermione couldn't help but ask her how he'd acted while he was with her. Ginny sent a long letter explaining the various Saturdays he'd come by. They walked around the lake each time, but he'd hardly talked at all, only held her hand, mentioned work and how he missed Hogwarts. They visited with people, mostly McGonagall and Hagrid, before he'd go down to Hogsmeade.

Ginny said he seemed happier, more content, despite everything.

Hermione, who had spent more time with Harry, noticed the same, but she also thought something was up. His quiet contentedness (as Ginny deemed it) was too sudden.

"What's been going on with you?" Hermione asked as they entered the lift to go down to Magical Law Enforcement.

"What do you mean?" he asked, tilting his head at her.

"You just seem…" Hermione stopped herself. What was she supposed to say? He never took too kindly to her nagging, but she really was concerned.

"I'm fine, Hermione," he said.

"Ginny feels the same as I do."

That seemed to get his attention more. "Why?" He seemed genuinely confused.

"You know, I don't even know how to explain," she said. "I'm not sure how to read you right now. It's like… Well, it's like you're hiding something."

He stepped out of the lift and immediately dodged a letter flying by his head.

"Did something happen?" she asked, rushing to catch up with him. He was already halfway to the door to the Auror office.

"No," he said.

"I read the report from when you were chasing that Death Eater through the Department of Mysteries."

"What about it?" he asked, pushing open the office door, but Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the hallway. "What, Hermione?"

"It said you'd fallen into time turners," she said. "And then you appeared in the room with the Veil. How did you get from the Time Room to the Death Chamber?"

"Actually, I appeared at the Auror office," Harry said, leaning against the wall. "I ran back down and picked the wrong door."

"So, you didn't time travel?" Hermione said.

"No."

Hermione didn't believe him.

"How old are you?"

"19. Wait, why-" Then his eyes widened and he looked away as if realizing his mistake.

"You're 18, Harry," she said, narrowing her eyes at him until she realized the implications of what he said. She let her lips part and eyes widen at the revelation. He couldn't have! No! But- "You were gone for a year! That's why you suddenly looked older. Harry! Where did you go?"

He sighed, looking up and down the hallway, then he grabbed her wrist and directed her to the broom closet across the hall. Hermione was too shocked to do anything as he cast a silencing charm around and then said, "Lumos." She watched his face light up.

"Never tell anyone, all right?" Harry said. "Only Aberforth and Elphias Doge know."

"Where, Harry?" she said, her hands immediately going to her hips.

"1898," he said, still avoiding her gaze. "Dumbledore was 17."

"You met Dumbledore while he was in school?" she asked, shock filling her whole head. That was impossible- Well, it was possible, but it was insane. "Are you actually serious?"

He nodded.

Hermione stared.

Then, she exploded. "Harry! You better have not messed with anything! That's really, really dangerous! You could have changed-"

"Hermione," Harry said, cutting her off. She glared fiercely at him. "Everything's exactly how I remember, all right? I don't think anything was changed from the past."

"But you still interacted and- Wait, did he know you were from the future? Please tell me he didn't!"

Harry cringed. "It was bloody Dumbledore, Hermione. You couldn't hide much from him. Anyway, Flamel put a memory charm on him. He didn't know I was there until the day he died."

"And how do you know that?" she asked, her hands squarely on her hips and her foot tapping in fury.

"I've spoken to his brother," Harry said.

"Aberforth remembers?" Hermione said. She groaned, wondering if that was a good idea. While she hadn't seen him but once since the Battle of Hogwarts, she still found him… well… odder than anybody she'd met before. And she'd met a lot of strange people in the Wizarding world. It was worsened by the fact that she looked up his records and found a horrifically detailed description of what he'd done to a certain goat about 50 years before. Not to mention at Harry's birthday when he hexed Elphias Doge over a plate of goat cheese. "Harry-"

"He can be trusted," Harry said. "He's loyal to Albus, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

Hermione couldn't help put raise her eyebrows in disapproval. He knew how she felt about Aberforth, especially over the last month when Harry would come home to the Borrow smelling of alcohol, but seemed to have not drunk any himself. Hermione finally managed to get him to say he'd been speaking with Aberforth. She told him that he shouldn't. Aberforth had made it clear that he didn't want to talk about his brother anymore, but there was Harry, just barging in.

"It's not like we're in the middle of war, anymore," Harry said. "I just spent year with him. He had an opportunity to turn me in as a time-traveler to the Ministry, but he didn't."

Hermione weighed that in her mind. "What exactly did you do while you were there? Did you stay at Hogwarts?"

He nodded and then began telling her about his time as Merrythought and Flamel's assistant. She stared blankly at him as he mentioned becoming friends with Albus Dumbledore, even managing to convince Dumbledore that Grindelwald was not a good person to be around. He told her how he'd met some Potters. One of which could possibly have been his grandfather or great-grandfather. He said he'd spent time in Godric's Hollow, watching over the Dumbledores. He even witnessed Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore's deaths.

Some part of Hermione's thoughts couldn't believe it. The adventure seemed too fantastic and fascinating to be real, but she knew it had to be. Harry wouldn't lie. He had come back looking a whole year older, even. He had to be telling the truth.

When he finished talking, he glanced down at his watch. "We're late for work. Ron's probably even beat us in."

Hermione nodded as Harry took the spells he'd cast off the walls. Hermione wanted to reply in some way, but she was utterly lost for words.

Throughout the day, she spotted him several times across the Auror office. Once he was laughing with Ron, another time he was busy working on a report, and the last time he ran out of the office with Ron and Neville about a Death Eater spotting.

She didn't get to talk to him again until that night when he was alone in Bill's old room. She hadn't even meant to stop by, just noticed the light still on and she knocked softly on the door.

He let her in and she found him sitting cross-legged on the bed, jeans and sweater still on. An album rested in his lap.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, looking over his shoulder.

"You want proof, right?" Harry asked, handing her the album.

She looked down at it in her hands. The cover was old and smelled musty like it had been hidden in an attic somewhere. She flipped to the first page and saw the picture of Harry and Dumbledore standing together in a potions lab. Fawkes preened his wings on Dumbledore's shoulder. Harry looked on as Dumbledore showed him a gadget that look surprisingly like Ron's Deluminator.

"Wow," Hermione said as she flipped through more of the pages. Harry was in all of them and most seemed to be in the same place. Harry with Dumbledore, Harry with a woman in her 30s wearing men's pants (she suspected that was quite scandalous back then), Harry with an older man showing him how to brew a potion, Harry scratching an owl's neck… They were all in black and white and clearly on the type of photography plates used back then.

"Where were these taken?" Hermione asked, flipping back to the first one with Harry and Dumbledore.

"Flamel's," he said.

She nodded, remembering how he said he'd lived there in between his talks with people and going back and forth to Godric's Hollow.

Although Hermione disapproved of the trip immensely, she still was much too curious about it. He hadn't meant to go, she figured. She couldn't place blame on him.

Instead, she chose to listen to what he had to say.

Later that night, Hermione fished her Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore book from a pile of books she needed to sort and began to fill in the blanks to Rita Skeeter's awful recount of his life.

From what Harry said, some parts were true, some parts were not.

She was at least grateful that he told her what was going on. Much better than hiding the truth away in silence.