Chapter 76: Hermione Granger’s Adventure

At five in the morning, Hermione woke up as usual in the pitch-black dormitory. Through the curtains, she could faintly make out the dim light of dawn creeping in from outside. Her dormmates were still lost in their dreams. After quietly getting out of bed and finishing her morning routine, she changed into her clothes, left the dormitory, and headed straight for the Room of Requirement to begin her daily training. However, even after emerging from the room drenched in sweat, there was still no sign of Harry, Ron, or the others.

Curiosity piqued, Hermione changed into a fresh set of clothes and made her way to the boys' dormitory. She pushed open the door to Harry's room and was greeted by the sight of five boys sleeping like dead logs.

Striding over to Harry's bed, Hermione was just about to yank him out of it when, suddenly, Harry—who had been facing away from her—rolled over in his sleep. A familiar face, one she hadn't seen in a while, appeared before her.

"It's been a while since I last saw this face. I kind of miss it," Hermione murmured, tilting her head as she gazed at Harry's sleeping features. A rare softness flickered in her eyes.

"Forget it. Exams are today—let them rest for once."

With that thought, Hermione quietly slipped out of the boys' dormitory, kindly closing the door behind her.

A short while later, a ginger cat followed Hermione's scent, cautiously poking its head into the room. Upon spotting something unsavory on the redheaded boy's blanket, Crookshanks let out an excited meow and pounced with full feline enthusiasm.

On her way to the Great Hall, Hermione encountered someone she hadn't expected.

A worn but clean wizard's robe, a weary expression, and a youthful face—yet strands of stark white hair mingled with the light brown locks. Though she'd only met him a few times at Harry's house, Hermione recognized him instantly.

"Uncle Lupin, what are you doing at Hogwarts?"

Hermione stared in surprise at the werewolf she'd met at Harry's home, but Lupin seemed even more taken aback by her greeting.

"Hermione, if I'm not mistaken, I've been at Hogwarts for nine months now. I don't show up in front of you lot often, but you don't have to act like we're meeting for the first time, do you?" Lupin asked, eyeing the girl who was always tagging along with Harry and the youngest Weasley boy, his curiosity evident.

"You've been at Hogwarts for nine months?" Hermione's shock was palpable. "But your identity isn't… Oh, I get it! It must be because Professor Dumbledore saw that Lockhart couldn't teach the students anything useful, so he brought you in to tutor the fifth- and seventh-years, right?"

Hermione's face lit up with an "aha" moment, but Lupin's confusion only deepened. Something she'd said gnawed at him. Glancing around to ensure no one was nearby, he lowered his voice. "Hermione, what did you mean just now by 'my identity'?"

"You know, the thing about you being bitten as a kid," Hermione replied in a hushed tone, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But if you've been at Hogwarts for nine months, does that mean Professor Snape's been brewing Wolfsbane Potion for you every month?"

"Hermione, I always knew you were clever, but I didn't realize you were this clever," Lupin said, momentarily stunned before giving her an admiring look. "Does Harry know about this?"

At Lupin's question, Hermione shot him a look that screamed, Are you kidding me? "This whole thing started when you told Harry, and then he asked your permission before telling me, didn't it?"

Hermione nodded, and Lupin's expression turned wistful.

The two continued chatting as they walked toward the Great Hall.

"By the way, Hermione, it's fine if you call me 'Uncle' in private, but at school, you should stick to 'Professor.' I am, after all, your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Lupin said with a smile as they entered the hall.

"Isn't Lockhart the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione asked, utterly perplexed.

Lupin fixed her with a steady gaze, confirming she wasn't joking, then sighed. "Hermione, you really need to take a break. Using the Time-Turner within safe limits won't cause major issues, but it can't erase mental exhaustion. Lockhart was last year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. This term, it's me."

"Wha—?" Hermione let out a strange, strangled sound.

"Go see Madam Pomfrey when you get the chance. I mean it, Hermione—you could use some potions to steady your nerves," Lupin said before heading toward the staff table.

By the time Hermione was nearly done with breakfast, Harry and Ron stumbled into the Great Hall, looking half-asleep.

"Morning, Hermione," Harry mumbled, his hair a chaotic mess, offering her a sleepy grin. Hermione smiled back, but Ron—who sported a long scratch across his face—glared at her before stomping off to sit with Seamus and the others.

"Harry, what's up with Ron now?" Hermione asked, bewildered by the unprovoked glare as she watched him settle elsewhere.

"Crookshanks got into our dorm again this morning," Harry sighed.

"And?" Hermione prompted, sipping her pumpkin juice. She knew Crookshanks liked to roam, but he was well-behaved—aside from his vendetta against Peter Pettigrew in rat form. He'd never shown hostility toward any student or professor, nor did he have the destructive streak of other cats.

"So, Ron and Crookshanks had another showdown this morning, and Ron lost—again," Harry explained with another sigh, grabbing a piece of toast and slathering it with butter. "Crookshanks chased Scabbers all over the place, and—"

"Wait," Hermione interrupted, her voice sharp. "Harry, are you saying Ron's pet is still Scabbers? That rat Scabbers? The one that's been with the Weasleys for eleven years?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, looking at her oddly, as if wondering why she'd ask something so obvious. "But don't worry—Ron grumbles about Scabbers, but he's attached to that rat. He's just mad at you because of what happened earlier. Give it a few days, and he'll forget all about it…"

Hermione didn't respond. She glanced at Ron in the distance, then back at Harry, her gaze lingering on his face for a moment. Abruptly, she stood up, muttered, "I'm going to study," and hurried out of the Great Hall.

Harry watched her vanish beyond the doors, frowning. Something felt off, but he couldn't quite place it.

Meanwhile, Hermione circled half of the Black Lake, searching for any trace of the research institute or dragon sanctuary she remembered. Finding nothing, a flicker of panic set in.

A parallel world—a concept she'd read about in Muggle comics—had somehow become her reality. Worse, she had no idea when or how she'd arrived here. How was she supposed to get back?

Hermione stood frozen by the lake, staring at her solitary reflection in the water. In this familiar yet alien world, she was utterly alone—no classmates she'd known for three years, no friends she recognized, not even… Harry. Everything was off, even Peter Pettigrew, still masquerading as a rat.

"Wait—Peter Pettigrew!" Hermione's eyes widened as she thought of Ron's rat. "The one who got Harry's parents killed is still hiding by Ron's side. That means Sirius is still locked up in Azkaban. If I can't figure out how to get back yet, then maybe…"

With that, Hermione raced back to the castle and sought out Professor McGonagall. She explained her discovery: Ron's pet was an Animagus.

McGonagall was, naturally, astonished. When she confronted Ron in the Great Hall and forced Peter Pettigrew to reveal himself in front of everyone, her shock doubled.

The Ministry of Magic soon arrived. After some bureaucratic squabbling, they grudgingly admitted to a wrongful conviction. Sirius Black was exonerated, and Peter Pettigrew was hauled off to prison.

"Hermione, you're incredible!" Harry exclaimed at dinner after the exams, having learned that Sirius was innocent and Pettigrew was the true culprit behind his parents' deaths. He threw his arms wide, rushing to hug his brilliant friend, but Hermione deftly sidestepped him.

"Er… sorry, Hermione. I got a bit carried away," Harry said, realizing his impulsiveness. He scratched his head awkwardly as Sirius Black, standing nearby, gave his godson a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"Ahem," Harry coughed, stepping aside to chat with Sirius. Meanwhile, Ron approached Hermione, his face flushed. After a moment's hesitation, he extended a hand. "Hermione, about your cat scratching Scab—er, Pettigrew—I forgive you!"

"You… forgive me?" Hermione stared at him, baffled. As Ron's face grew redder, a voice she knew all too well suddenly echoed in her mind.

"At your two o'clock, black hair, glasses, tall Gryffindor student in a robe."

Hermione's head snapped up. By a pillar near the Great Hall's entrance, a black-haired Gryffindor boy she didn't recognize waved at her with a smile. When he saw he'd caught her attention, he gestured for her to follow, then turned and left the hall, heading outside.

"Sorry, Ron, I've got something to do," Hermione said, barely containing her excitement. She brushed past the crowd and chased after the tall Gryffindor. On the lawn, she finally caught up, crashing into his arms and sobbing quietly.

The boy patted her back soothingly. Harry's voice rang in her mind again. "Finally found you, Hermione. There, there—why are you still crying?"

Once Hermione composed herself, Harry led her toward the Forbidden Forest. "Come on, let's find a quiet spot and get back."

With a flick of Detect Truth, Harry spotted the magical array on the Time-Turner. He adjusted it, and in an instant, he and Hermione vanished from the forest.

Meanwhile, the Hermione who'd followed that otherworldly Harry back to her own reality broke down in tears upon seeing her familiar Harry, Ron, and everyone else. The Harry chatting with Sirius was bewildered as Hermione chased him down, then enveloped him in a long, suffocating hug.

The next day, Ron and the others met Hermione in the Room of Requirement as usual. Neville, ever eager to spar with Harry, brandished his wand in one hand and a sword in the other, shouting "Holy Slash!"—only to be effortlessly dodged by Harry. Hermione, now back to her full strength (at least in Ron's eyes), waved her wand with gusto, chasing Ron, Seamus, and the others with Transfiguration spells while deftly deflecting their hasty counter-curses.

A few days later, the tedious exams were over. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the rest enjoyed a brief respite. After a week of carefree fun, the results came in.

No surprises there: Hermione took first place in their year, Harry came second, followed by Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus. Gryffindor claimed the top six spots, much to Professor McGonagall's delight. Even Slytherin snagging the House Cup again felt trivial in comparison.

The day after the end-of-term feast, the young witches and wizards boarded the Hogwarts Express. After a bumpy journey, they arrived at King's Cross Station. Amid the bustling crowd, the hoots of owls, croaks of toads, and meows of cats, farewells and reunions unfolded. Another summer holiday had begun.

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