A/N: A huge thank you to all my readers! To all the people who loved this story, to all that continued to read it even after months of silence, to every single encouraging note or comment. I cannot express to you all how grateful I am that you took time out of your day to read and comment. Writing a story for the HP fandom is one of the most incredible experiences. You readers are the real MVP.

Epilogue

65 years later- September 1, 1991

With a hand on her hip, Hermione looked around the large open space of the Wizarding Museum she had created. It had taken her sixty-five years to finalize her dream of keeping wizarding artifacts safe and available for the entire wizarding world to enjoy but she did it.

The original concept had come to her the first time she had stepped into the Slytherin vault after arriving in this time. Seeing all of those priceless artifacts rot in the darkness of Gringotts had felt like a waste and all she could imagine was the thought that the muggle world would have these things inside of a museum, where anyone could come and look.

She realized it would be much more difficult because the things she wanted to showcase, were highly coveted heirlooms that had not been seen in living memory. The first thing she did was reach out to the magical community and searched for retired Aurors, those with meritorious service, and offered them more Galleons than they could turn down. Not one of them said no, each and every one of them excited by the conservatorship she wanted to create.

News of her project began to reach her peers and one by one they came to her, offering their own heirlooms for a rotational loan. And her search didn't end there. An entire wing was dedicated to the Hogwarts founders. Arcturus and Melania Black had been first, offering up anything that she thought might be interesting to the public, opening their home to her perusal. Merope had approached her with the locket in hand days later. After that, Hermione had gone to Albania and spent months searching for the diadem. In the end, she found it, right where the Grey Lady said it would be, in the hollow of a tree.

Hepzibah Smith was a much harder nut to crack. She had no intention of letting the cup out of her sight, but after much negotiating and a new ironclad contract, Smith allowed the cup to be on loan to the museum for one year with an option to extend at the end of it. Knowing that she wasn't anywhere near to opening, Hermione had asked that another clause be added. In the case of Hepzibah's death before the opening, the next owner would be obligated to follow through with the terms. And so it was.

The only house she did not have a true artifact for was Gryffindor, but she had a replica made from her memories. The craftsman who made the replica was fantastic. She wasn't sure how he did it, but the steel even had a bit of green shine to it when the sun hit it in just such a way, reminding her of the basilisk venom it had imbued in her second year. She would bet that the actual sword didn't look like that in this time, but that would just be her little secret.

The most difficult part of the museum, other than security, was deciding whether or not to add the Deathly Hallows. In the end, she decided that at least for opening weekend, they should be included despite Albus and Gellert both warning her not to. The hunt for them was worldwide, almost like the holy grail, and the temptation of one place housing them all would be too much, according to them.

Charlus Potter had easily agreed to the loan of his invisibility cloak, especially since James was such good friends with Rista, Hermione and Gellert's first granddaughter.

Surprisingly, Morfin had reached out the year after Marvolo died from complications of the tunnel collapse. Even though Albus had cocooned them with a magical barrier, something had gone wrong with his heart, killing him five days later in St Mungos. Morfin became a respected member of the community by identifying and breaking curses off of ancient family artifacts. Which was super handy in her endeavor because he was one of her most trusted allies when it came to the museum. He had given her the ring the moment she brought it up, saying that he had no good memories of it and that the museum could have it.

That was generous, of course, but Hermione convinced him the ring would be far safer being in hands of a family and that the loan would have a clear time of borrowing. Albus and Gellert were not wrong when they said it would be a temptation to any who sought the supposed power of being master of all three.

The wand had been brought out of hiding as well as the Nurmengard Blueprints. Even if the prison was never built, it was a thing of beauty, a magical architectural feat.

All of this brought her to this day, the day her dreams would be realized, and she was terrified. It was like another child to her, a lifelong ambition that finally found fruit.

With a wave of her wand, she dimmed the lights and walked out, nodding at the Security Aurors that surrounded the place, wards shimmering as she passed.

At eighty-six years old, she still felt as young as she had in her fifties, with the odd creak and protest of muscle and bones. The weather had turned lovely, green leaves only starting to give way to the riotous fall colors and she decided that she would walk up to the castle instead of flooing to Albus's office.

It wasn't a usual occurrence that a witch or wizard not on Hogwarts teaching staff be invited to the welcoming feast in the Great Hall, but for Hermione, Albus made an exception. This year, more than any year before, meant something much greater to her.

Filch met her at the gate and walked with her up to the castle, bemoaning the lack of thumbscrew use in the more difficult of rulebreakers, namely the Weasley twins. She listened to the outraged account of their antics and hid a smile, glad the dark her the tears welling in her eyes.

The Great Hall was filled with students, more than she had ever seen before. The tables had been elongated to accommodate the influx. No one seemed to mind Hermione as she walked up a row and joined the Hogwarts staff at the head table. She had just settled into her seat between Tom and Flitwick when the side door opened.

The first years walked into the Hall, following Deputy McGonagall like a row of ducklings into the water for the first time. They looked around, in awe of the sights, smiling at everything and everyone. They had a sense of wonder, even those who hailed from magical families. It was a thing of beauty.

Hermione's sharp eyes focused immediately on the boys who were once the most important aspects of her life. Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Hermione noted with quite a bit of satisfaction that Harry's forehead remained unblemished, unmarked, and unscarred. He was as normal as anyone else and not in the least famous.

She set her hand over her heart, desperately trying not to tear up as her heart clenched as her gaze moved to the two next people dear to her heart. Hermione Granger, the child, was deep in discussion with Draco Malfoy. Platinum blond was as close to curly brown as they could get. Hermione's lip quivered and a handkerchief was thrust in front of her face.

"Are you okay, Aunt Hermione?" Tom Dumbledore said as he sat just to her left. He had taken up the defense post many years prior and became one of the best in his field.

Hermione nodded her head, unable to speak, watching as each child was sorted. Faces she had so dearly loved for her entire life and they didn't even know it. People that had died, and people she had sacrificed everything for.

The most incredible revelation was the night she found out that she had been born in this timeline, exactly as she had before. September 19, 1979. That night, Merope had come over and the two of them got so drunk, they spent days sleeping off their hangover. It was a celebration and it was a funeral. Happy that she would continue on and hopefully live a better life but heart-achingly sad for what this other Hermione would miss out on. Not every aspect of being the famous Harry Potter's friend was bad.

"Vellux Gaunt," McGonagall called. Hermione smiled and watched Morfin's grandson sit on the stool. He was a mousy, timid little thing, but sweet as pie when talking about magical creatures. Which he was wont to do every time she had seen him. Hermione just knew that Hagrid was going to absolutely love him in class. "RAVENCLAW!"

Hermione's brows rose to her hair. Surprised was an understatement but she clapped just the same, proud of the boy. His family had done a lot in the way of fixing their reputations.

"Hermione Granger," McGonagall called, and Hermione snapped her attention to the chair, wondering what might become of her this time around. "Better be, GRYFFINDOR," the hat yelled. Hermione cut her eyes over to Albus whose eyes were suspiciously twinkling.

Tom snorted next to her. "Figured,"

"Oh?" she said.

"For a descendant of Slytherin, you have always been Gryffindor-ish. This just proves my point,"

"I'll have you know, that I was always a Gryffindor, even the first time around," Hermione said with her nose in the air and she gave a disdainful sniff. "And you know very well the name was adopted."

"Draco Malfoy," McGonagall called. Draco stepped up to the hat confidently but kept looking over at his new friend. It wasn't hard to tell that he thought they would be in separate houses. The hat barely slid over his ears when the hat yelled, "SLYTHERIN!"

Hermione looked amused and clapped. As intimately as she had known him from her own time, she knew there was truly only one house for him. But the encouraging thing was that this time around, the house rivalries were more fun and games than the terrible division of hate it once was.

His ears turned red as he made his way to the Slytherin table, smiling as his new housemates clapped him on the shoulder.

"Miles Ollivander," McGonagall called. Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes, watching as one of her great-grandchildren swaggered up to the stool. He was the most like Gellert out of all their descendants, not just in looks but also in personality. It was uncanny. "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Harry Potter," McGonagall called. The hat was on his head for exactly three seconds before it called, "GRYFFINDOR,"

Time was a funny thing, or maybe it was fate because so many things she knew and loved from her own childhood were the same and yet so much was different. Harry still had his parents. The Malfoys, though powerful, were more tolerant of bloodlines. Though they still tried to keep their own line mostly pure. But the most telling thing of all were the hundreds of faces she had never seen before. Thousands over the course of her life had been born that wouldn't have without her interference.

"Ron Weasley," McGonagall called. Awkward Ron, in his slightly used robes, sat on the small stool nervously as the hat was placed on his head. And to Hermione's surprise, he took the longest to sort out of the whole lot. But just as all the others were sorted, so was he. "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat yelled.

He had looked relieved and sheepish as he made his way to his new housemates, already on his way to being best friends with Harry. But it was clear from the grimace on both the young Hermione and Ron's faces that they were not yet friends. Hermione wondered if they would become friends at all without all of the adversity that had pulled them together the first time. But as the young girl glanced across house tables, her gaze met and held Draco's. Friendship from the very first.

Harry pulled her attention back to the table, saying something that made her laugh. Hermione rather thought that Harry would always be Harry, no matter when, where, or how. She dabbed at her eyes and nose with Tom's handkerchief and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug.

"Don't cry, Auntie, they aren't dead,"

"No, they are not,"

"So everything you did, everything you changed, it mattered. You did the unthinkable. And, you get to have such an amazing nephew like me in your life!"

Hermione sniggered behind her hands. "Always modest, aren't you?"

"I can't help it if I am wonderful,"

"You weren't the first time around," she eyed him significantly.

He rolled his eyes. "Well obviously I just needed you in my life," He leaned in with a lady-killer smile and a wink. "If you ever wanna ditch Uncle Gellert, you know where I will be,"

Hermione snickered again and smacked his arm. "Your mother would appreciate it if you used your charm in gaining a wife. She told me just yesterday how she longed for grandchildren,"

He backed away and shuddered. "My mother is a lunatic. She has grandchildren, five of them, including seven great-grandchildren and one great-great-grandchild. She is being too greedy! Rhys may have been her second born but he was more than happy to marry and settle right out of school. Plus, I don't think I am cut out for one woman. My brother has contributed more than enough,"

Albus who sat on Tom's other side leaned in. "Don't let your mother hear that. She will have you married faster than you can say woolen socks,"

"You say that like she hasn't already been trying," Tom grumbled, feeling completely ganged up on and focused his attention on his food, pushing around the bits of beans 'round and 'round the gravy. Albus met Hermione's eyes and winked, ridiculously chuffed. Once they were merely Headmaster and student then became allies, to enemies, to friends, to family. Other than Tom, Albus was her greatest change.

**HGHG**

Hermione flooed home, tired after the long day, emotionally and physically wrung out only to freeze in horror.

"What do you think?" Gellert asked a great grin transformed his face, standing in front of her with arms wide.

Hermione's jaw dropped and she studied the man standing in front of her. His long white hair was pulled together in a queue at the back of his neck like usual. The rest of him, however, was not the usual.

Gellert was sporting a long white beard tied with several silver bobbles that gathered and hung in his beard, tinkling with each movement. His robes were the most violent purple, sporting neon yellow stars embroidered over the entirety. The worst part was the burnt orange crushed velvet of a hat, twice as tall and pointy as she had ever seen. The effect was hideous but so very familiar, in a nostalgic way. The last time she had seen this look, she was a student at Hogwarts.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips, and put her hands on her hips. "Gellert Grindelwald have you been sneaking a peek inside my pensive?"

His happy smile faltered, and he opened his eyes wide, shaking his head as innocently as possible. She didn't buy it, not for one second.

"Well," he said. "I just wanted to see what I looked like in your time,"

"So you decided to copy Albus' look from when he was my Headmaster?"

"It was Albus…" he muttered to himself. "Makes more sense. Never did like the look of yellow on me, makes my skin look sallow,"

"I don't think the yellow is your only problem,"

"True. Never liked wearing hats. The purple though," he said, a smile creeping back in, "I could do purple,"

Hermione sighed and turned away, a little smile of her own on her face. "I'm sure that your dressing up like Albus had absolutely nothing to do with your youthful romance,"

"I can't say I have any idea what you are talking about," He said with a smirk. "I was curious, is all."

"You knew in my time you were locked away in Nurmengard. The only reason you would have to look and see about anyone was Albus. You know, I'm fine and not jealous, right?"

"Nothing came of it. It was something, once, but after I met you those feelings paled in comparison to what I felt for you,"

"But he was your first love, and there is always something special about a first love," Hermione sighed, thinking of her own feelings she had had for Viktor Krum. He may not have been the first person she had a crush on, but he was the first boy to illicit in-depth feelings. There would always be a tender spot in her heart for him, no matter how much she loved Gellert. And she knew the same would hold true with him and Albus. They were innocent memories that should be cherished.

"Oh, Love, wait! Something came by owl for you," He grabbed the small letter off the side table and handed it over with a flourish, a mischievous little smile dancing around the corners.

"Bollocks," she murmured, flipping the letter over with thin narrow slits for eyes.

"This look is glorious on you, you know."

"What look?"

"Unrepentant grudge,"

Hermione snorted. "He did try to marry me by force,"

"And the poor bloke has tried many times to apologize since,"

"You wouldn't think this was so funny if he wasn't still in Azkaban,"

"That is a bald-faced lie! The hilarity would absolutely extend past his death. Watch, Love, how much you want to bet he comes back as a ghost, just for you," he snickered. She pointed at him and looked as if she would rip him a new one before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Once she was calmer, she tossed the unopened letter into the fire. She hadn't read a single letter past the first three all those years ago and like hell would she restart now. Forgiveness may be a thing of beauty, but she just couldn't do it for Prince.

She was able to let go of her grudges long enough to forgive even Tom Riddle, the worst offender of horrors in her life. But Prince was a no go. Even if he hadn't assaulted an Auror as he was taken away that day the tunnels collapsed and spent a significantly shorter sentence in Azkaban, things would have still turned out this way. But with no friends, no money, and no social standing, he had no recourse but to stay locked away and made an example of.

"Why is it that you can love Tom like your own and still not be able to forgive Prince?" Gellert asked as he fiddled with the cuff of his Oxford, having ditched all the rest of the horrid clothing over the back of the chair.

Hermione sat on the settee next to him and leaned in, enjoying as his arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her in, dropping a tender kiss to her hair. "Probably because I nearly said yes to him once. Because at the time I could envision a life with him. I turned him down because I had feelings for you. Had you not been in the picture…" she trailed off and shuddered. Likely if she had married him, she would have been in for a rude awakening.

Gellert grinned his cocky arrogant smile. "I knew you wouldn't say no to me. Not after you had a taste of my lips,"

"Oh really? I seem to remember things differently,"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Gellert said stubbornly, eye twinkling merrily. Just like Albus. Hermione shook her head. Those two spent entirely too much time together. Even if they both denied it vehemently, they were as close friends as she was to Merope.

The floo flared suddenly and the vision of Johanna, their daughter floated amongst the logs.

"Mum?"

"What is it, Dear?" Hermione asked, getting off the couch and sinking slowly onto the carpet in front of the fireplace.

"Violet had the baby!"

"And?"

"A little girl! Elizabeth Felicity Shacklebolt! They waited so long for her and they never thought they would have another after Rowan since he is nearly thirteen. A beautiful baby girl! Is Dad there?"

"Right here, Princess,"

"She has your eyes, or she will. She is the sweetest thing. Gets most of her coloring from her father, but we anticipated that, being a Shacklebolt and all, but her eyes! Merlin, she is so precious. My youngest granddaughter and probably the last that any of my children will give me. But oh, I have so longed for her. Violet told me to tell you that she will invite you over to the Grange, Saturday next. With all the kids at Hogwarts, it will be quieter, and you and Dad will have plenty of time to catch up and see the baby."

"Tell, Violet we will be there," Gellert said smiling. "I have just the gift for the baby!"

Johanna snorted. "I bet you do. They will be looking forward to it. I'm going to go back in and stay with Violet for a while. Love ya!"

"Love you too, Sweetie," Hermione said as Johanna vanished from the fireplace.

"How many great-grandchildren does that make now?" Gellert asked pulling Hermione to her feet.

"Ten. Lucky number ten."

"Dear Merlin," He grumbled wondering exactly how two children turned into five grandchildren and ten great-grandchildren. "Even Merope and Albus only have seven great-grandchildren."

"I guess we just got lucky," she said.

"Yeah, we did," He grumbled, pretending not to be as chuffed as he was. Hermione bit back a smile, even if he pretended that he didn't know how many great-grandchildren he had, he knew each and every one of them by name. Also, he was the one on the floor giving pony rides to any child who wanted one at all the family gatherings. He is as he always was, the life of the party.

"Just think," Hermione said. "Without the life I lived through before I traveled in time, I would have never come back, and we would have never met."

"Never did finish building Nurmengard," Gellert said as he stroked his beard minus the silver dangly things.

"What would you even do with it if you did?"

"I've always meant to have a significant portion of the building dedicated to research,"

"Yes," Hermione deadpanned. "Can't imagine anything would go wrong having a research facility attached to a working prison."

Gellert snorted. "I only wanted to keep Albus there. Besides he would have loved to stick his nose in research."

"Is that how you planned on keeping him locked up there? No high-powered wards, no beefy Aurors gone rogue, but research?"

He laughed. "None of those things would hold Albus. Come on, Woman! The only thing worth exploring as a means to keep him there was the research."

Hermione shook her head. Even after sixty-five years of marriage, she was still surprised by this man. And as she looked at him, studying the laugh lines etched into his face, she realized that out of all the lives she could have lived, all the men she could have married, she couldn't imagine being happier than he had made her. Sixty-five years down, she smiled, and many more to go.

"You are the love of my life," he murmured, dropping a sweet kiss to her lips.

"And you are mine,"

**HGHG**

It was a warm autumn day when Hermione apparated to the front gates of Malfoy Manor, met by Lucius and Abraxas Malfoy who was waiting for her as they have every year for the last five.

"Good Morning, Hermione!" Abraxas welcomed jovially. He looked exactly as he had in a portrait that she had seen of him, once, in Malfoy Manor when she was just a girl.

"Morning, Dear. How is Draco doing at school?" Hermione asked.

Lucius wrinkled his nose. "He loves it, is attentive in class, and is doing very well in the rankings. However, he seems to be infatuated with a Gryffindor girl."

"Oh?"

"Her name is Hermione too," Abraxas said in a tone that seemed to be insinuating something. She ignored him.

"That is lovely," Hermione said.

Lucius held out his arm and helped Hermione wrap her arm around it. "She is Muggleborn,"

Hermione sighed. "You know Lucius, there are worse things in the world than one's birth. I seem to remember your mother wondering if you were a squib, it took so long for you to manifest. And look how you turned out. Bright, powerful, and loving."

"Oh, Merlin!" Lucius looked utterly betrayed. There weren't many people who knew about it, but Adelaide had come to her when Lucius turned ten and still hadn't presented. Most people knew she had a knack for complicated magic. But there wasn't anything she could do for the family except tell Adelaide that she was one hundred percent positive that Lucius was a wizard. Hermione's word had been enough to stop the worrying and a year later, weeks before his Hogwarts letter would come, he finally blasted out six windows in the Longbottom Greenhouses by accident. No one was happier to make the repairs than Adelaide.

"Anyway, he won't marry young Hermione, Dear," Hermione assured him.

"How do you know?" he looked away and rolled his eyes. Abraxas on the other side looked curious.

All talking stopped for a moment while the trio climbed a hill, a lone tree pulsating at the top with magic. Once she was only a few steps away, she let go of Lucius and walked the distance alone. She closed her eyes tightly and caressed the tree, feeling the familiar pull of magic that had once melded her with its magic. Though muted, it was still there, dormant and waiting for the day it would meld with its host.

"It never flowers or produces fruit. I don't know what you like about it so much." Lucius grumbled.

"This is not just any tree, Lucius. This tree is only one of two in the whole entire world and I am the one who planted it here. It is not mature yet, but it will be soon. You asked me how I knew that Draco wouldn't marry Hermione Granger, and this is my answer. I am a time traveler and this tree is the mode in which brought me here. Your son, Draco, and I made a pact with this being. The truth is that Draco will marry Ginny Weasley, and their daughter will become the first Smurg of this tree. I have seen it. And every year I come to visit and I let it know that I was able to do what I set out to do, that I am grateful for the opportunity, that I am sorry to the Malfoy girls who will become Smurg. As long as I live, I will protect the tree and the Malfoy family from ruin."

"But you have only been coming the last five," Abraxas said.

"No, you have only accompanied me the last five. I've come on my own without Malfoy knowledge for the last sixty-five years." She said. Then she mumbled as if in afterthought to Abraxas, "couldn't stand your rat bastard of a father,"

"How did you get past the wards?"

"Easy, I am Malfoy too,"

"This is what you choose to ask? Out of all the information she just gave us?" Lucius stared incredulously at his father.

Abraxas shrugged. "Tom Dumbledore confided in me most of this information. I am not surprised,"

"Tom talked to you about this?" Hermione asked in astonishment.

"After he graduated Hogwarts you brought him here, a pensieve in hand, and told him everything. You have no idea how much that knowledge affected him and since we are good mates…"

Hermione nodded. She had wondered if he had talked to anyone about the memories that he saw in the pensieve, and now she knew that he did, she was glad. It would have horrified anyone to see that, that future could have been theirs.

"You knew about this?" Lucius said clearly unable to cope.

"What would you like to know, Lucius?" Hermione asked, still stroking the tree trunk.

"First of all, if you are a time traveler and you knew Draco, are you the Hermione Granger he has been talking about in school?"

"Yes."

"But you were a Slytherin before you married Grindelwald, and how the hell are the Malfoy wards keyed to you?"

"I was a Muggleborn, born as Hermione Granger. After the blood-wars, there was just Draco and I left. Everyone else, including you, had died. That was not a world I wanted to live in. Because of the inheritances from my best friend, Harry Potter, and Draco also gifting me the bridal vault, I was wealthy enough to convince the Goblins to release a vault I could access in another time. But to claim it, I had to be adopted by the name. That name was Slytherin. To protect me in the past, Draco adopted me because of the protections on the Malfoy name. That is why young Hermione who is still in Hogwarts cannot marry Draco. They are magically siblings and she would be able to walk through your blood wards without invitation, just as I have done in the past." Hermione said as she began stroking the leaves. Abraxas was nodding along as if this was just a recap for him, but Lucius looked upset.

"He will be crushed! I'm pretty sure he loves her."

"Already?" Hermione snickered, thinking it more likely that Draco would like to have a go at her. Feelings, if there were any, would have grown over several years. Not in a matter of weeks. What was Lucius reading these days? Love at first sight romance novels? She could barely contain her laugh as she imagined a proud and slightly pompous Lucius Malfoy reading the naughty bits with a huge prudish blush. "You need to discourage this, obviously."

"Discouragement will not be enough," He insisted.

"Then why don't you pay a visit to her parents and tell them she has been adopted into your family and that she and they are welcome at the Manor any time for any reason. Then tell the young ones. This way they can grow their friendship without the thought of anything more. Do it now, while they are still reasonably young."

"That is a wonderful idea!" Abraxas said. "I always wanted a granddaughter, and what better granddaughter would there be other than the great Hermione Grindelwald, herself?"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "So, Cissy and I are supposed to, what? Treat her like our daughter?"

"If you are comfortable with that," she said. It wasn't a bad idea, but it would have to be their decision. Perhaps, she should take the young Hermione aside and do for her what she had done for Tom. Then again, she didn't want to burden the young girl. Hermione Granger should have a normal childhood. She doubted Lucius wouldn't act on the information she had given him anyway. In fact, she would eat her wand if Lucius didn't write to his son straight away after returning to the Manor.

"A Malfoy in Gryffindor? Preposterous!" He made a choking sound before turning and fairly fleeing the mound, leaving Hermione and Abraxas alone chuckling.

"He will calm down in time," Hermione said. "They always do,"

"He is probably disappointed now that he knows Hermione Granger is you and that she can't actually marry Draco," Abraxas said, hands clasped behind his back. "After all, I would be,"

"Pish posh," she said sniffing the leaves.

Hermione took a small dagger out of her beaded bag and pierced the skin of her finger, rubbing the life-giving liquid on the bark in the same way she had done in order to time travel. She didn't know if it made a difference, but what if it did? Either way, she was grateful and remorseful.

Once her blood was spread out on the tree that would one day become an Ent, she bowed her head and tried to communicate all the positive things that had happened because of her journey.

First and foremost was Lily and James Potter and their two children, Harry and Genevieve, that lived in the Potter Cottage of Godric's Hollow. James was still an Auror in this time, though his specialty was event planning. He was the one responsible for the security that surrounded quidditch matches, concert halls, and anything else that called for a large magical population to gather. Lily stayed home for the children, but once Genevieve went off to Hogwarts, she fully intended on joining Hermione in the museum.

Sirius and Regulus both ended up in Gryffindor this time around. Sirius was still single and planned on playing the field until he dropped dead, she supposed, which suited the now middle-aged Auror. Regulus, on the other hand, had married Marian Lovegood, Xenophilius' sister- A sister that he hadn't had in Hermione's time- and had three boys. Two of which were still at Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin was never bitten by Fenrir as a child. That had truly shocked her. Instead, he became a healer at St Mungos. The werewolf reforms that Hermione helped put in place when she first joined the Wizengamot enabled a more informed public, as a result, Fenrir didn't have that deep hatred and resentment of wizard-kind. Though he was a werewolf, he worked on a conservatorship in Russia, assisting the Potion Masters with the continued development of the Wolfsbane Potion. Peter never betrayed his friends and went on to become one of the Minister of Magic's junior assistants. He was often seen with his mates, James, Sirius, and Remus. Some friendships were just meant to be.

As a result of the Death Eaters never being created, the very small faction of blood purists left were fading away in the onslaught of Hermione's reforms. The only ones who still fought against her in the Wizengamot were the older generation. The benefits of equality far outweighed the need for purism, and it wasn't so hard on the pockets either.

Severus Snape was another surprise. Without the horrendous hate between houses, Snape enjoyed a continuing friendship with Lily Potter. In the first war, he had reached the level of Potions Master by receiving a sponsorship from Voldemort. This time around, Hermione was his sponsor. The moment Snape showed an interest in becoming a Potion's Master, she was quick to offer a scholarship. He was one of the very few to have sponsorship after only completing his O.W.L.s and she assumed it helped him feel accepted. He was as gifted as he was in her past but this time, he was not a professor at Hogwarts, nor did he have any desire to become one. She fully supported that.

Hermione was pulled out of her silent recount by Abraxas' light cough.

"I do have one question though," he said.

"Hm?"

"What is a Smurg?"