The Ladies Aide Society

After the attack on Hermione, the rest of school year passed quickly. She sat her NEWTs and scored very well. In fact, she scored third just after Remus and Lily, which made McGonagall's eye twitch again. Sitting for NEWTs was rather like sitting for OWLs, they received their scores several weeks into the summer. In the camaraderie of the Order of the Phoenix meetings James overheard his erstwhile Professor swearing up and down to Professor Flitwick that Hermione had somehow figured out exactly how many points she should be docked so that she would come in at exactly third place. Flitwick had patted her hand and nodded understandingly whilst Professor McGonagall drowned her sorrows in a tumbler of firewhiskey. James was glad that they were done with school, and could focus on more important things like protecting his sister and saving their world. He, Sirius and Remus had all joined the Order of the Phoenix as soon as they graduated. Lily had as well, despite James arguments to the contrary. Hermione, unfortunately, as a pureblood daughter had to answer to the head of her family and House.

"Absolutely not," Charlus Potter said flatly, steeling himself for the screaming, but Hermione didn't scream. She sat down delicately and crossed her ankles. She looked at him with her mother's eyes.

"And why is that, Daddy?" She asked in the sweetest most patient voice possible. The tone that the Potter men knew was the deadliest and most vicious whether it was coming from Hermione or Dorea. He frowned in irritation.

"It could put your life in even more danger than it already is," he said flatly. "You still haven't fully recovered from…what happened."

"I see," she said solemnly, those eyes watching him carefully. She could not argue with that. Her muscles and nerves would spasmodically twitch at the most inopportune times. Old Hermione had suggested some potions that they used to good effect in the future, but the potions could only do so much. "Well then, would it be acceptable if Sirius, James, Remus, Mother and Lily accompanied me to Mrs. Longbottom's house? I've been invited to a luncheon tomorrow afternoon. Of course, I'll have to owl her and let her know I'm bringing five extra guests, but I'm sure she won't mind."

"Don't be ridiculous," Charlus snapped. "Of course she'll mind! Your mother would have a fit if a guest showed up with five extra guests! It's inconsiderate and rude!"

"So is cancelling on her," Hermione pointed out calmly. Charlus growled. Hermione had never actually heard her father growl before. He was so patient, so kind with his two children.

"Fine!" He shouted. "Get yourself killed then!"

Hermione gasped and her eyes shifted to black bottomless pools.

She was eleven years old and she was standing at platform 9 ¾ for the third time. She sighed heavily and decided that this must be her hell. To eternally attend Hogwarts. She was not sure what she had done to deserve this fate, and she certainly wished that she knew to whom a supplicant might appeal. This time, her muggle parents had been called away at the very last minute due to an emergency root canal and their strange, collected daughter had assured them that she would be fine. While they had been a little uncertain about an eleven year old making her way to the station all right, their odd daughter had always unnerved them just a bit. She…knew things. Hermione walked along with calm grace, her trunks trailing along behind her obediently. The other students stared at the strange little witch who was obviously a first year, and yet capable of the sort of magic that would command her trunks. She was dressed almost archaically by modern standards. She insisted on silk dresses and her mother ordered them for her from a catalogue Hermione had produced at the age of four. A large man, in a hurry and not looking where he was going, bumped into her knocking her down.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," he apologized and held out a hand for the tiny girl to help herself up. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I am, Lucius," the small girl replied, as she shook out her skirts and smoothed the lines of her dress. He stared at her for a moment, his silver eyes wide in shock. She was small, petite and fine boned. Her hair hung down her back in perfect, glossy, chestnut ringlets. She looked so familiar that he could almost place her. Her brown eyes looked far older than any first year student's had a right to look.

"Do I know you?" He asked at last, an uneasy sensation prickling along his nerves. A familiar smirk twisted her small mouth.

"I don't imagine you do," she murmured. "Oh look, there's Draco. I told you that you'd have a son. Did you make sure that he's practiced Occlumency enough to be proficient?"

"I…I…," Lucius was staring at the small girl in shock as his young son drew near.

"Father? Mother says the train will leave soon," Draco informed Lucius with a curious glance at the small girl who looked to be a fellow first year. "Hullo. Is this your first year as well?"

"In a manner of speaking," she replied with a secretive smile.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he said holding out his hand. His father and mother had drilled proper manners into him from the time he could toddle, and Draco Malfoy knew how to act when there was a lady present. This pretty girl was obviously a lady. She held herself with the same sort of bearing that his mother had, and all the other ladies in her circle of friends.

"Yes, I know," she said, but she placed her small hand in his. "Hermione Granger."

"Hermione?!" Lucius said perhaps a bit louder than he should have. She frowned at him.

"Do be quiet Lucius. I imagine Jamie's about somewhere," she hissed at him. Draco stared at the little witch. No one spoke to his father like that and survived. Well, sometimes his mother, but she was very careful about how she did it. His father turned to him, his face pale and his silver eyes wide with shock.

"Draco, this is…er, the…daughter of a very good friend of mine," he said smoothly. "I want you to look after her at school. Make sure that she's safe."

"You do realize that my responsibilities will require my presence in Gryffindor yet again?" Hermione reminded Lucius. He frowned and then nodded.

"Of course, your nephew," He looked at her for a moment and frowned slightly.

"You're a muggleborn aren't you?" He guessed, realizing that the name Granger was unfamiliar to him. She nodded.

"A muggleborn?" Draco looked at her with undisguised curiosity. "Father, you're friends with muggles?"

"It's a very long story," Lucius said with a slightly pained expression. Hermione smiled mysteriously at the young wizard.

"Things are not always as they seem, young Draco," she explained carefully. "As a Sytherin you must always remember that nothing is as it appears on the surface."

"Yes, ma'am," Draco replied automatically and then blinked at his Father. He smiled at his son, a genuine smile of affection, and the boy preened under his father's attention.

"She has that effect on all of us, son. Call her domina and remember, guard her well," Lucius instructed his son firmly. Draco nodded seriously.

"Yes, father," he replied, his eyes on the pretty young witch with the strange eyes.

"Princess? Are you okay?" Her father's voice sounded far away, but the panic in his voice made her blink unsteadily.

"Daddy?" She shifted and realized that he was kneeling by her chair, his brown eyes looking worriedly up at her.

"I'm right here," he said soothingly, patting her hand. "Are you all right?"

"I…I think so," she muttered. She patted her cheeks which were dry. That was unusual. Most of her visions anymore made her scream, cry and shake. Was that a possible future for her? If she died, she'd just be reborn as Old Hermione?

I really hate it when you call me that considering that, technically, I'm younger than you are.

That was you, though. Right?

No…not really. That wasn't my or our first time around. It was you, reborn as me, but you remembered this life. I'm going to guess that you were reborn as a Seer. A muggleborn Seer, that must have freaked people out. You have to remember also that these are possible futures. Possible being the operative word in the sentence. There are any number of possible futures.

I see. That young man was Lucius' son? He doesn't seem as awful as you described. Or as you remembered.

Draco appears to be less of a git. I wonder if that's because of your influence on Lucius and your redemption of him.

I really, really don't want to end up as a little girl, AGAIN.

So we avoid dying. How hard can that be?

HP/HG/HP

"I see you're here without the accompanying guests you threatened me with," Augusta Longbottom said sternly with a sharp look over her teacup at Hermione. The younger witch smiled serenely at Mrs. Longbottom.

"Mum vouched for you," Hermione explained with a wicked twinkle in her eyes. "She said that it would be a pleasant day in Hades before anyone managed to get anything passed you. She said that you were one of the few people she'd trust to keep me safe. That was good enough for Daddy. Maybe not for Jamie or Sirius, but they don't know I'm here right now."

"Now, this idea that you had…what did you call it again?" Mrs. Bones asked curiously. Hermione's grin widened.

"Muggle society has the same sort of striation that wizarding society does," Hermione explained carefully, "and theirs is also based on breeding and wealth. Those that are 'well-bred' and wealthy are called society, and in the past their ladies were just as carefully bound and protected as we find ourselves. Those ladies, out of sheer boredom I imagine, would found groups that they called 'Ladies Aide Societies' and they would do things like roll bandages for the war effort."

"But a well-placed spell can do that easily," protested Mrs. Fenwick. Hermione nodded.

"Well, yes, true, but what about brewing potions for St. Mungo's? What if we were brewing basic healing and pain potions to help St. Mungo's keep up with the demand? We could claim that it would allow their potions masters time to focus on more complex potions that we, as dainty, pureblood ladies, don't want to bother our pretty little heads with," Hermione had warmed to her explanation, and excitement turned her cheeks pink.

"But we're really doing something else?" Mrs. Bones pressed Hermione, looking a little excited herself.

"Well, some of us would have to brew potions, or everyone would get suspicious, but yes. The rest of us would be freed up for, um, tactical exercises," Hermione told them eagerly. The pureblood ladies murmured amongst themselves for several minutes. The group here today had been handpicked by herself and Augusta Longbottom as women who weren't squeamish and could keep their traps shut.

"I like it," Griselda Marchbanks said firmly from her chair. The witch was over a hundred years old, but she was still spry and still dangerous with her wand. "A Ladies' Aide Society! My husband would have fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. My sons will fall for it. Brilliant, Augusta! Absolutely cracking!"

"I agree," came the chorus of voices. Hermione had a ready-made charter for the Ladies Aide Society that had built-in protections, and each lady present signed it eagerly. Hermione grinned at Augusta Longbottom who nodded sharply, a militant gleam in her eye.

"Now, we'll need to have a committee with a chairwoman," Mrs. Longbottom said firmly. "I think it would be best if we had Mrs. Marchbanks as our chairwoman. If anyone else thinks there is a better choice, please speak up now."