Disclaimer: these characters are not mine – they belong to JK Rowling

AN: Another new Tomione story for you! Even though I can only choose 2 categories this would fall into, it's actually an equal balance of three: Drama/Romance/Humor If you have read any of my other works, you will know by now that I like sassy Hermione...and this story is no different. Enjoy it for what it is, and please don't forget to review!

~~{0}~~

"Do it, Hermione, Now!" Ron shouted to her as she kneeled above the horcrux poised to destroy it once and for all.

Hermione held the basilisk fang in her hand with a grip so tight, her knuckles had turned white. Hufflepuff's cup lay before her on the damp floor of the chamber of secrets, and her eyes were tightly closed trying to keep the treacherous whispers emanating from it from invading her mind. She tried desperately to ignore the feeling that it was verbalizing her deepest and darkest secrets, thoughts she had never uttered to another living soul. It reminded her that no matter how hard she studied, or how hard she pushed herself, that she would never earn the respect that she so desperately craved in the magical world; that she was nothing.

"Hermione, don't listen to it!" Ron pleaded from beside her.

Strengthening her resolve, she took a deep breath, and her hand absently moved to her chest in a movement that she had done a million times before, as she plunged the fang into the cursed cup. Then there was nothing but blackness…

Looking back, she would not be able to recall clearly the chain of events that led to her current predicament, other than the cosmically bad timing of accidentally setting off the time turner while attempting to destroy a horcrux.

Ever since her third year, she had developed a nervous habit of reaching to her chest to make sure the time turner she had been given still remained in place. She had been so afraid of losing it, that now, checking to make sure it still sat against her breastbone became an unconscious habit. She really ought to have turned it in after her third year, but, the over achiever in her wouldn't hear of it. So, it was with utter shock and humiliation that she found herself in the bowels of Hogwarts in the year 1947; the year the horcrux had been made, apparently. The fang was gone from her hand, as was the cup, and Ron was nowhere to be found. She was alone, kneeling on the ground in the darkened chamber of secrets when the realization hit her that the Basilisk was still very much alive in there somewhere, so with that thought, she picked herself up off the floor and ran faster than a stampeding hippogriff towards the tunnel that led to the second floor girl's lavatory. She thankfully found a lever that forced the sinks to shift from the inside and dove from the tunnel, landing on the wet stone floor. It seemed Myrtle, who had now been dead for just over four years, had flooded the bathroom again. She had no idea how to close the passage since she couldn't speak Parseltongue, and didn't want to risk the Basilisk's escape into the school, so she exited the bathroom and warded the doors as strongly as she could. She did the only thing she could think of to do, and ran as fast as she could to Professor Dumbledore's office. She would explain the situation, and hopefully, he could find a way to seal the chamber and get her back to her own time. Her suspicions were confirmed that she was indeed in 1947 when an auburn haired professor Dumbledore opened his office door and pointed what she now knew was the Elder wand in her face. His watery blue eyes were notably missing their incessant twinkle.

"Stay where you are, lest I alert the aurors. Start with your name, and how you managed to breach the ancient wards of this castle. Now."

Having never been on the receiving end of Professor Dumbledore's wand, she hoped to never be again. He was downright scary.

She held up her hands in surrender, "Professor Dumbledore, My name is Hermione Granger, and I had an accident just now involving a time turner. I was a student at Hogwarts, you see, in the future. Please sir, I'm not sure how much of my predicament is safe to tell you, but There is a much more pressing matter that I must…"

"Inside. Now. This is not a conversation to be had in the hallway." He said stepping aside and allowing her to enter.

"Now, Miss Granger, was it?" he said as he closed and warded the door behind her.

"Yes, sir, but please, I must tell you that the chamber of secrets is open, and I need your help to close it." Hermione pleaded.

The professor stiffened, and looked at her suspiciously over his half-moon spectacles.

"Impossible. No one but the Heir of Slytherin can manipulate the chamber, much as it vexes me to say. How have you come by this information?" he asked, once again pointing his wand at her threateningly.

Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest. Did he suspect her of opening it? She supposed she did technically open it, but it was either that, or join Myrtle in the u-bend.

She held up her hands in surrender, "Professor, I know it's open because I just came out of it. I had to open it from the inside to make my escape. The problem is, I don't speak Parseltongue, to close it again, so I warded the bathroom doors until I could get some help."

"Parseltongue, you say?" He sat back, his eyes widening as the pieces clicked into place.

Hermione looked at him curiously, wondering what he was thinking.

"Yes, the heir of Slytherin is a Parselmouth. The entrance is through one of the sinks in the girl's lavatory on the second floor. The only way to open it is to speak to it in Parseltongue." Hermione told him, unsure if she was telling him too much.

"I see. It seems my suspicions have indeed been confirmed."

Now Hermione was really confused. He didn't think she was the heir of Slytherin, did he?

"What suspicions, sir?" Hermione asked with trepidation.

"I suspected who was behind the attack four years ago when the chamber had first been opened by the Heir of Slytherin. Unfortunately, he was a very slippery snake and the blame fell to someone I now know to be innocent. It is not a mistake I will allow to happen again." He told her seriously.

Hermione didn't need Dumbledore to tell her he was talking about Tom Riddle. She had known that the professor had always suspected him, but ultimately it was Hagrid that took the blame. Now, with the information she had just given him, he now knew for certain Tom was the culprit.

"So what happens now Professor? I'm not supposed to be here. I need to get back to my own time, it's a matter of life and death that I do." Hermione pleaded now that he seemed to believe her story.

"Unfortunately, Miss Granger, I cannot use your testimony in this matter, since by doing so, you would have to divulge the nature of your presence here, which must not be allowed to happen. No one must now that you are a time traveller." He told her

"I understand, Professor, but how can I get back?" Hermione felt like she was about to be sick…

"Miss Granger, It is with my deepest sympathy that I inform you that your return will not be possible."

And with that statement, Hermione promptly fainted.

~~{0}~~

Hermione opened her eyes, immediately recognizing the hospital wing.

"Ron!" She called as she sat up abruptly, then immediately regretting it as the room began to spin once more.

"Easy now, Miss, You've got a nasty bump on your head. We'll have you fixed up in no time." The young mediwitch said from beside her. Hermione didn't recognize her.

"Where's…" she started to say before the events of the last few hours hit her like a ton of bricks. Ron wasn't here. He wasn't even born yet.

"I'll notify Professor Dumbledore that you are awake. He was quite concerned for you, poor dear." The mediwitch said before entering her office.

A short while later, Professor Dumbledore, along with a much older wizard who she recognized as Headmaster Dippet, from a portrait she had once seen, entered the Hospital wing and came to stand before her cot.

"Ah, Miss Jones, I am glad to see you are finally awake. Professor Dumbledore has informed me of your situation, and we will of course do everything we can to help. When you are feeling better, we can discuss your arrangements." Headmaster Dippet told her.

Hermione looked confused for a moment when he called her 'Miss Jones', but she quickly assumed Dumbledore had given him a fake name in order to protect her future identity. It stood to reason he had also concocted a story about how she had ended up there that had absolutely nothing to do with the truth. Hopefully, he would fill her in before she would be expected to answer any questions.

"Of course, Headmaster. Thank you for your hospitality." Hermione answered politely.

"Think nothing of it, my dear. These have been very dark times, and Hogwarts will always offer help to those who seek it."

Hermione smiled at the comforting words. She had heard Professor Dumbledore echo those same words many times in the future.

"Miss Jones, If Madame Hartwick is ready to release you, I'd be delighted to have you join me for lunch in my office, since I'm sure you must be quite hungry." Professor Dumbledore offered.

"That would be lovely, thank you, Professor." Hermione smiled. She was sure he would use the opportunity to fill her in.

The mediwitch who Hermione now knew was called Madame Hartwick stepped up to Hermione's bedside handed Hermione one more potion.

"This is just a simple pain relief potion, Miss Jones, drink that, and you are free to go." The mediwitch told her.

Hermione took the vial from her hand and drank the potion, immediately feeling the throb in her head recede to a dull ache.

"Thank you" she said to the mediwitch before she bustled away. She stood on shaky legs, taking the arm that Professor Dumbledore had offered her. The feeling of hopelessness began to settle over her once more when she recalled that Professor Dumbledore had told her that there was no way for her to ever return home.