Yesterday is Tomorrow (Everything is Connected)

One: Everything is Connected

Yesterday is Tomorrow (everything is connected)

ONE

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Note: While this is a "Hermione is Lily's sister" story, I am attempting to avoid some of the usual cliches found in these stories (all which were excellent, btw), by 1) removing Hermione as Lily's twin; 2) not inserting Hermione into the lives of familiar characters, until much later.

Furthermore, I am the original author of this fanfic on FFnet (Kneazle), and Ao3 (writing_as_tracey). I'm posting here on the suggestion of my tutoree (thanks, Nat!).

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Narrator: We trust that time is linear. That it proceeds eternally, uniformly. Into infinity. But the distinction between past, present and future is nothing but an illusion. Yesterday, today and tomorrow are not consecutive, they are connected in a never-ending circle. Everything is connected.

- Dark (2017-present), 1x01: "Secrets"

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"Miss Evans, can you stay behind a moment?"

Hermione sighed, looking longingly down at her gathered up parchment, filled with her neat cursive script, full of ideas and arithmancy equations that she wanted to attempt in the Room of Requirements. She glanced up at the professor - not Professor Vector, as that was the Arithmancy professor in her time, but an old, white-haired hawkish-looking man that was a cross between Einstein's eccentricities and a looming Snape - and then glanced pointedly at her kinetic-wound watch on her left wrist. Arithmancy was, sadly, her last class on Tuesdays, and therefore she did not have an excuse to run away from Professor Pythas.

Some of the Hufflepuffs - the two in the class - shot her sympathetic looks but the Ravenclaws, her fellow housemates, ignored her. There was a lone Gryffindor Hermione didn't know well, and several Slytherins she was on vaguely friendly terms with. They were all sixth year students, and she was only fourteen. Or so. Age was difficult.

"Sure, professor," said Hermione instead, turning around with a bright smile on her face. She slid back into her seat.

The man heaved a sigh as he slid into the spare seat in front of her desk, moving slowly as he bent his knees and his rear rested on the hard wooden surface of the chair. "Ahh," he groaned, reaching behind to rub at his back. "These old bones aren't what they used to be."

"I'm sure, sir," replied Hermione, politely, if not confused. "But you don't look a day over seventy."

"Ha!" the man barked, pointing a finger at her. "You're a wonderful student, Miss Evans, but an accomplished liar you are not."

If that's what you think, she thought, darkly, but allowed the same bright smile she presented him with earlier to grace her lips.

"No, I'm not a day over one hundred and four, but these old bones are tired," the man muttered, "I should really ask Albus for retirement soon..."

Hermione cleared her throat. She did have a library to get to, and a Room of Requirement to spend her afternoon enclosed in, eventually. "Sir, what is this about?"

Professor Pythas nodded. "Right. Yes. Of course. You see, Miss Evans - Hermione - you really are quite an accomplished student. I wasn't just saying that, dear."

Hermione nodded. She knew she was an accomplished student, as per his words. That's what happens when you're practically a genius and already went through Hogwarts once before, even if she did never complete her seventh year or technically graduate. The Ministry still hired her, and she did have the added bonus of being in her forties when she "died."