A/N: Sorry about the delay, life got busy again. But I'm still plugging away, as determinedly (if not perhaps as diligently) as our heroine. :D

o-o-o-o-o

"I'm just saying, our first Astronomy class tonight is going tae be harder than it needed tae be, because someone was banging around the bathroom at all hours last night, sniffling like a house elf with a head cold!" Morag's unnecessarily loud complaint cut through the fog of sleep, and Hermione sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes blearily.

The morning sun was streaming through the room's open curtains, and her dorm-mates were moving about, mostly dressed already - though in casual outfits, since Friday was entirely free except for the recently mentioned Astronomy class at midnight. Morag, seeing she'd finally managed to wake Hermione, smiled tightly, and Hermione sighed.

"I tried to be quiet, I'm sorry I disturbed you, Morag," she mumbled. The disagreeable girl sniffed sharply, but didn't otherwise acknowledge the remark.

"Good morning, Hermione," Padma said quietly, stopping by Hermione's bed. "Are you okay?"

Hermione considered the question. Last night had been equal parts depressing and frustrating. And while her older self's arguments had been presented lucidly enough, in the light of the morning, they still didn't really seem to make sense.

She wondered if there might have been side-effects from whatever happened to send her older self's mind backwards through Time. Or possibly her own brain wasn't developed enough to 'emulate' O.H.'s full thought processes, so they were handicapped somehow? Or even while Hermione herself was sleeping, there still just wasn't quite enough 'spare' capacity? She'd have to ask Professor McGonagall exactly how one maintained consciousness after being Transfigured to a non-human form, or how ghosts managed to think at all. And then there was that bit her older self had included about possibly something worse than being killed having happened to her, whatever that meant. All of which only firmed Hermione's instincts to favor her own judgement in this case.

But then what? Given the school's sealing, she suspected at a minimum the Headmaster had evidence of - or at least suspected - foul play. But if he did, he was no doubt already looking for the killer, and Hermione's information was so vague that it might not actually be helpful...the most valuable piece seemed to be just knowing it was murder in the first place. Even if she came clean, since there was no way to prove her story, the Professors might just chalk it up to that infuriating Confundus misinformation. And if they did, there would be more unnecessary visits to Madam Wainscott, or they might even confine her "for her own good" since she wasn't ignoring her "delusions" as instructed, and then she wouldn't be able to help at all. From her reading, she knew the standards for involuntary commitment to St. Mungo's were higher than the equivalent in the muggle world - wizards in general seemed to have a much higher tolerance for what they deemed 'eccentricity' - but it did happen, and that seemed not yet worth the risk.

She could owl an anonymous letter to someone in the DMLE, but even if it were believed, she presumed it could cause a lot of problems for Hogwarts - and she still wasn't sure if the Headmaster and whoever else was involved in the cover-up had good reasons for their actions. Hermione decided to hold that option in reserve...besides, it would also be far more likely to succeed with some verifiable evidence. There was always that journalist, Ms. Skeeter, who seemed all too likely to accept Hermione's suspicions at face value even without evidence, but that too could cause problems...suppose there was a public outcry, the school was opened to outside investigators, and that was the thing that allowed the culprit to get away?

Then there was the issue of her older self's apparent intentions towards self-sacrifice. Objectively, if anyone would, she ought to know whether or not there was any other way. On the other hand, she'd admitted she didn't really understand what had happened, and if her logic was compromised for whatever reason, then could she really be considered responsible enough to make a decision like that, however much Hermione might ordinarily support someone's "right to die" from an ethical standpoint? Which meant on top of everything else, she felt obligated to try to find a way to rescue her, or at least help her make an unencumbered decision about it.

"Hermione?" asked Padma, looking concerned, and Hermione realized she'd just been sitting there staring and hadn't answered the girl's question.

"Sorry. I'm just...tired..." she said softly. Despite her quiet tone, Morag's eyes glittered from across the room.

"Aren't we all," she snipped, moving to the stairs. "Well, I'm going to breakfast, coming?" Mandy and Su, looking uncomfortable, moved to join her. "Padma?" prompted Morag when the other girl hesitated.

"I can wait," she offered to Hermione. Hermione shook her head.

"No, go ahead. I'm...not really hungry anyway..." Padma looked as if she wanted to say something, but just nodded, and followed Morag and the rest of the girls downstairs.

For a minute, Hermione just sat there and considered going back to sleep, but as daunting as her problems were, avoiding them wasn't the answer. She slid out of bed, then fumbled open the jar of chocolate-covered espresso beans, popping a couple into her mouth and chewing mechanically as she headed to the bathroom.

As she'd expected, by the time she'd cleaned up, brushed her teeth and put on some casual clothing, there was no chance she'd get to the Great Hall before breakfast was over. Instead, she just headed directly to the library.

o-o-o

Checking the school rolls had been a bust - there was no male student with the initials P.P. enrolled this year. Which implied that the murderer had been masquerading as a different student, or hiding in some other way. But after another hour of frustrating research - trying to find books with useful information in the perversely inefficient library - it turned out there were a lot of ways to conceal or disguise one's self with magic, most of which weren't visibly obvious even if you knew what you were looking for.

Disillusionment or an invisibility cloak did often leave subtle visible disturbances. Reviewing her memory of the train ride, she didn't think she'd seen any, but then it's hard to say if she would've noticed, particularly if she'd been moving herself at the time. It appeared that a Confundus Charm could convince you a person was someone else, though that seemed impractical, since you'd have to repeat it every time a new person saw you, and then what, Memory Charm everyone else who saw you casting the Confundus?

Whereas Polyjuice Potion, Self-Transfiguration and Metamorphosis were entirely dependent on individual skill - even a Metamorphmagus could be considered "skilled", since it was an inborn talent but required practice to develop - and could be effectively perfect, unless you knew the person being impersonated well and could spot inconsistent behaviour. But Hermione hadn't known anyone well, and the killer didn't even have to be masquerading as a specific student, they might've just looked like a student in general. On reading the description of a Metamorphmagus' abilities, it seemed clear that's what Tonks' "trick" was. She might've been the killer playing a double-game, pretending to be someone pretending to be someone else...but Hermione wasn't sure what the point of that would've been above simply pretending to be someone innocuous, which made her think Tonks was probably just what she'd seemed - a helpful but bizarre recent Hogwarts graduate.

Then there was the other magical disguise, an Animagus transformation. That seemed almost not worth considering, since the process was apparently so difficult and dangerous that it was extremely rare. The Ministry actually required people who'd managed it to register, and there had been only seven in the past century - including Professor McGonagall, which certainly spoke to her dedication to leaving no aspect of Transfiguration unexplored. Though, the reason the Ministry required registration was the somewhat odd presumption that people would otherwise be tempted to use an Animagus form for criminal activity - as if magic in general wasn't otherwise overburdened with opportunities for wrongdoing?

That bothered her, so Hermione dug deeper, and discovered that an Animagus form was not detectable by any broad spell...the only way you could be sure was if you attempted to reverse the transformation, and that was itself a difficult spell, or compared the results of an inconveniently long series of Charms while the person was transformed. And since there were Charms that could otherwise duplicate most of the benefits you'd get from being one animal or another, it meant that you needed a really good reason to specifically attempt the Animagus process instead. It also meant that until someone was actually caught in the act you'd never know, so there could indeed be a much larger number of Animagi running around out there than the registry implied. Though again, probably not many, given how difficult it was.

None of this really helped her much. On the train, taking into account her efforts to help Neville, she'd encountered dozens of students and their pets, any one of which might've been the disguised killer. And while Trevor's repeated escape attempts were a little suspicious now that she thought about it, there was nothing that linked the toad to Madam Pomfrey, unless he'd taken ill and Hermione just hadn't-

Taken ill. Diseased.

Hermione clutched at the library table as the blood dropped out of her head so fast, her vision swam and she swayed dangerously. Nurse Wainscott had said that the Headmaster and all the Professors agreed there weren't any people in the hospital wing when the nurse had left Madam Pomfrey alone, nor had anyone entered before the nurse returned.

But there had been a rat.

Because he'd bitten Malfoy's friend - and been yellow at the time - Scabbers had been taken to the hospital wing to be checked to make sure the bite might not have passed anything along. Hermione had even thought at first that he'd been killed by the same vapor that claimed Madam Pomfrey, and been so relieved when she'd learned he wasn't that she hadn't questioned it. But why would Madam Pomfrey return the rat herself rather than have Ron come fetch him? And she would've presumably done any number of diagnostic Charms...maybe even the ones that would have revealed an Animagus. And if he, in desperation, took his human form to silence the witness to his disguise, would that count as "entering"?

But...that doesn't make any sense… Hermione rationalized, a bit desperately. Ron said he'd been passed down from his brother. Sneaking into Hogwarts once is one thing, but why would someone live as a rat for years? But hadn't one of the Twins also said that their father had arranged an exception for Scabbers 'ages ago'? She was almost certain she'd read that the lifespan of a natural rat was almost never longer than three years.

Her fingers whitened on the edge of the table.

Hermione had, years ago, accidentally left a shop with a book without paying for it - she'd been with her parents and had used her bookbag as a shopping basket, but when the time had come to make their purchases, she'd missed pulling one out to be rung up. When she eventually discovered the mistake at home, she'd been wracked with panic and guilt, and had considered all sorts of insane plans to cover up the "crime", including walking five miles back to the shop in the middle of the night to sneak it back in (somehow), or burying the book in the backyard (even then, destroying it had never occurred to her). Eventually, after a sleepless night, responsibility had won out and in the morning at breakfast she'd tearfully confessed to her parents. She was a bit taken aback that they only wanted to pay for the book - they seemed to think she had punished herself sufficiently via her own guilt. But even if she hadn't done it deliberately, it was wrong.

Hermione had intellectually understood that some change to Time had resulted in Madam Pomfrey's death, and the source of that knowledge implied that it was probably something she'd been involved in somehow. But it was just an abstract part of the insane situation she'd found herself in, and she hadn't really dwelled upon it. But, now, upon realizing that - despite her immediate attempts to cast doubt on the conclusion - she had a plausible explanation of how her direct actions had gotten a person killed...the impact was devastating, and Hermione's mind nearly came apart at the seams.

Moving slowly and haltingly, Hermione swept her things into her bag and stumbled away from the table, out of the library. She might have vomited, but fortunately there wasn't anything left in her stomach to seek escape. She was barely thinking, let alone navigating, and it was only upon seeing the impressive ugliness of the gargoyle that she broke through the fog and realized where her legs had been taking her.

"Headmaster's office," she murmured, recognizing the guarded entrance from Engineering Enigmas. It was, all things considered, long past time to talk to a responsible adult, and let someone else tell her what the right thing to do was. But the problems were the same - would he believe her, enough to investigate? Without taking the Time business into account, her suspicions were extremely circumstantial...and if she did bring that up, either he wouldn't believe that either, or he would, and then there'd be no going back, no hedging, she'd have to reveal everything.

Despite the sympathy she'd felt last night, Hermione hated her older self a little bit for putting her in this position. Though she did notice that there was no attempt to stop her, no sense of sourceless panic - she really was on her own.

"I need to speak to the Headmaster," she said, her voice shaking, to the revolting gargoyle. The book had noted the entrance to the Headmaster's Office was protected by a passphrase, but Hermione had no way to know what it might be.

Nothing happened.

She tried again, this time with a hand against the stone statue, then her wand, but again nothing. Feeling frustrated, and a bit silly, she knocked on the stone, and received only mildly abraded knuckles for her efforts.

"Honestly, there must be some way for him to receive unscheduled visitors…" she mused, rubbing her sore knuckles absently. Her voice was more steady this time, as her irritation beginning to mask her nervousness and guilt. Then again, he was very busy, perhaps he was out. Or appointments had to be scheduled with the Deputy Headmistress?

Despite herself, the obstacle was giving Hermione an opening to second-guess her decisions. She could always come back later...and every second she delayed was another second the murderer might find some escape, or commit some other awful crime. Even if she went to another Professor, that still applied, and who knew how long it would take to convince them?

More and more, it felt like the genuinely responsible thing to do would be to get Scabbers securely captive first...then there'd be less chance of anything happening due to a delay, plus he'd be right there when she revealed her suspicions, and thus a lot harder for a Professor to refuse to check...

Hermione slowly walked away, leaving the motionless gargoyle behind, and began to seriously consider how a first-year witch might subdue a murderous adult Animagus, even if he was a rat the vast majority of the time.

The notion that it might not be possible did occur to her, but she dismissed it - she'd just have to be creative.