The Lion awaits the young Cub
Centuries later, arriving from strife.
Snubbed the Snake will be,
Accepted the Raven and Badger.
Child of the Raven the Cub will take
And across the centuries awake.
A Child from the Lion and Cub,
Will know her father not;
While the elder mourns him.
The Lion weeps for what is lost,
And the Wizard sees the cost.

Hermione woke up early, the remnants of the dream slipped from her mind, and she made her way toward the ruined Room of Requirement. It had given so much to her, she only wished to repay the debt. It was two months after the final battle and the repairs to the Castle were nearly complete.

However, humans took a lot more to heal than a building made up of bricks and mortar. The wizarding world was still reeling from the war it had just been through. Harry and Ron had signed up to be Aurors and they weren't going to go to Hogwarts for their Seventh Year.

Minerva had told Hermione that she was going to be Head Girl for her Seventh Year. But it was still summer and Hermione felt no need to keep curfew.

So the young Gryffindor found herself creeping down to the fifth floor corridor. Hermione hoped her plan would work, it was almost like she could feel that the Castle was in pain. But that's impossible. The Castle can't be in pain can it? It's not like it is alive, right?

Hermione gently placed her hands where she knew the door to be and allowed her magic to flow into room beyond.

The witch's magic melded gently with Hogwarts' magic, restoring the chamber that lay within to its former glory. However, when Hermione tried to pull away from the wall, she felt Hogwarts' magic surround her. It was a soft warm glow that blinded her to everything else. Hogwarts' magic was all the Hermione could see, hear, taste, and feel. The magic seemed to penetrate her very soul.

All too soon it started to recede, its comforting embrace leaving her on the hard, cold stone floor.

Hermione stood up and bushed herself off, getting rid of dirt that wasn't there. The animagus cocked her head. Something isn't right. The castle seems, almost younger.

As she walked down the corridors, Hermione noted that the walls were lighter and didn't we replace that wall? There should be a seam here. The witch ran her hand gently over the section on the wall.

Heavy footsteps alerted her to someone's approach.

Who is that? Hermione cocked her head. I don't recognize those footsteps.

A tall man with pale skin and black hair bound with a red ribbon rounded the corner. He wore a leather jerkin and pants, with a russet cloak about his shoulders and a sword was strapped to his waist.

Who is this man? Hermione whipped out her (Bellatrix's) wand. "Who are you? And what are you doing here?"

The man started, his bright green eyes narrowing suspiciously, hand going to the hilt of his sword. "Whatever dost thou mean by saying that? Hast thou comest to kill me?"

"Kill you?" Hermione questioned, taking a step back. "I don't even know who you are. What are you doing at Hogwarts?"

"Pardon me, Milady, I hath forgotten mine manners." The dark haired man bowed. "I am known as Professor Godric Gryffindor, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Godric Gryffindor?" Hermione breathed, shaking her head. "Oh, no, no, no. You can't be."

Godric smiled. "What forbids me from being myself?"

"Because if you're Godric Gryffindor, then that means that I'm in the past…way, in the past," Hermione sighed and hung her head. "That would explain the differences in the Castle."

Brow furrowing in slight confusion at her claim, he gave her the tiniest of reassuring smiles; he had yet to deem if the lady was out of her head in some manner. "Milady, if thoust would oblige me with thy name." Gryffindor smiled at the brunette witch.

"Oh, sorry! My name's Hermione Gr… McGonagall. Hermione McGonagall." The animagus grinned.

"A pleasure to make thy acquaintance, Lady McGonagall. Pray tell, why dost thou don thine undergarments about?" Godric asked.

Hermione frowned. Undergarments? "These are pants," she stated bluntly, tugging at the material in question.

"I can clear see they are such, Milady. Your response leaves the question unanswered, however," he replied with some amusement. Hermione continued to stare at him, nonplussed by his rebuttal. When she remained silent, the man deemed it better to move on to more favorable topics, "Very well. If you are not a heathen, and I dare say you look nothing of the sort, thou must hail from some foreign land."

"In a manner of speaking," Hermione replied with some hesitancy. Deciding to just be out with the problem, she continued, "I guess you didn't believe me when I said that you're from the past. I can't really explain how I got here, but I come from the year 1998, and I don't belong here at all."

"So you hail from a time ahead. What a thrilling adventure." Godric chuckled. "We have yet to even look into such matters as removing oneself from one's own place in time."

"Like I said, not really sure how I got here." Hermione shrugged. "I was just repairing the Room of Requirement one minute and the next I was here."

Gryffindor folded his arms across his chest and shifted his weight back, looking over her as if mulling something over. After a moment, he finally declared, "My apologies, Lady McGonagall, but we have nothing to correct thine present situation." Shaking his head, he gestured her forward, "Come, thou seem to be about the size of mine sister-in-law. I am sure she wouldst not begrudge thee some proper attire and I am quite sure some of her older wear is still about the Castle."

"Do you really expect me to obey you? I find nothing wrong with my outfit and it's perfectly comfortable," Hermione was seething.

"Lady McGonagall, it would not do for any to see thou clothed in thy current attire. Thou do seem to come across as some mad woman simply running about in thine garters." Godric explained, earning an eye roll from the woman. Pausing in thought, he quickly asked, "How dost thou fair in Transfiguration?"

"Why?" The animagus narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.

"We do not have a Transfiguration teacher. The last one died when his village was attacked by giants." The Head of Gryffindor grinned. "And that would explain thou sudden appearance. Transfiguration falleth under mine domain."

"I haven't tested for any mastery yet, but my màthair says that I could easily be a sixth level Transfiguration master, third level in charms, and also a third in potions." Hermione stated.

Godric started in surprise. "We have yet to create such things."

"Oh, I, uh..." The witch trailed off in no small amount of confusion.

"It is quite alright, Milady." Gryffindor chuckled. "I shall simply consider the fact that thou art proficient in the area of Transfiguration."

"Yes, sir." Hermione nodded. "So, where will I be staying?"

"In the Transfiguration Professor's quarters, of course." Gryffindor smiled and started walking away.

Hermione had to run to catch up. "Sir."

"Please call me Godric, Lady McGonagall." Godric inclined his head.

"Then please call me Hermione." The animagus stated. "Godric, is there a lesson plan or…?"

"What lesson doest thou need to plan?" Gryffindor interrupted the witch.

Hermione groaned. "Never mind. I'll make my own."

"Thou art a most curious lady. Unlike any of which I have met." Godric smiled down at the witch.

"What's wrong with other women?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.

Godric chuckled, he didn't know that it was unwise to push her. "There is hardly anything 'wrong' with other women. It is simply that thou stand apart from them. It is good to be such, I promise. Pray tell me, how didst thou get that scar upon your lip?"

"I was in a battle and some debris struck me." Hermione crooked a smile. She was secretly proud of her scar.

"This is why thou art unlike thee others." Godric smiled. "Thou art proud of such acts."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, not in thee least." Gryffindor shook his head. "Ah, we have arrived. I will have one of thee house elves bring you some proper attire."

Gryffindor left before Hermione could question him about house elves. The young witch turned to the door and sucked in a deep breath. This was the same door that led to her màthair's quarters!

Easing the door open, the animagus entered her new quarters. She hoped that she'd find a way back to her own time. And soon. She hadn't been gone long, but she already missed her family and friends.