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Sands of Destiny	By : amidtheflowers Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Sirius/Hermione Views: 8603 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its respective characters belong to J.K. Rowling. This plot line, however, belongs to me. No money or profit are made from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter 3

Vivera

"No need to look so frightened, Miss Granger, we're just sorting you into your house early," the brisk voice of Professor McGonagall interrupted Hermione's racing thoughts. Hermione was silent as she continued to follow the Transfiguration teacher into the corridors, straying from the Great Hall. Her prior knowledge of the entire castle led her to the realization that she was being led to the Headmaster's office.

Swallowing hard, she gazed up at the stern-looking teacher and wished she knew who Hermione was. Professor McGonagall always had a soft spot for her out of all her students. Her flawless grades were a majority of the reason, but something else had led the strict witch to hold some affection for her.

None of that existed now as McGonagall led her to a very familiar winged gargoyle. "Lemon Toffee," she said tersely, and the gargoyle's wings spread with life, and McGonagall led her up the staircase.

The room was almost exactly the same as it was when Hermione had last seen it. The walls were mounted with portraits of previous Headmasters, the shelves brimming with odd knickknacks and spinning contraptions. A chair stood delicately in front of an oaken desk, and Dumbledore was seated behind it.

His half-moon glasses did not obscure the familiar baby blue eyes of her headmaster. His white hair was not flowing as long as it normally had; rather, his beard just barely grew past his chest and his emerald robes were contrasting strikingly against the silvery locks.

"Thank you, Minerva," Dumbledore smiled, and the witch nodded curtly before exiting the office. His attention went back to Hermione. "Hello, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said happily.

"Good evening, Professor."

"Your trip to Hogwarts went well, I presume?"

"Yes sir," Hermione replied. Her eyes wandered, wondering where the sorting hat was.

"Professor McGonagall brought you here upon my request," he admitted. "I thought it would be a waste having you wait to be sorted after a hundred first-year students."

Hermione nodded placidly. Dumbledore watched her softly. "I also wished to offer my deepest condolences for the troubles you have faced this summer. I wouldn't wish that even upon my worst enemy."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione responded, "but I am quite alright. The Potters…everyone has been so kind to me. I really am in more a debt than I am in sorrow."

"You brave, brave girl," Dumbledore said sadly, and a shock coursed through her. He had said those very words before she turned back time. The revival of the phrase was…unsettling.

"There are a few things I wish to discuss before placing the Sorting Hat on you," Dumbledore began. "First, a question of your hospitality at the Potters. I admit it may be a bit soon to have a strong opinion, seeing as you only stayed at their house for two days—"

"Professor," Hermione interrupted kindly. "I assure you, they are the most generous people I've ever met. Truly, I am fine."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore smiled. "I thought just as well. Moving along, I feel I should remind you that should you need any help, any words of kindness of any kind, you know where to find me." He watched her carefully. "It is not often when a Dark Mark is set upon a Muggle house and there are still survivors inside of it. This should not be confused with luck," Dumbledore said softly, "but a message that you are needed in this world just a little longer."

Hermione smiled, but secretly wished somebody would just tell her what exactly had "happened" to her that was so traumatizing, that the Headmaster was looking for her safety? Suddenly she felt the weariness Harry had often mentioned, when everyone looked at him like he was about to die any minute.

The story this alternate life made for her was that her family, the Grangers, was tortured and killed, and Hermione would have had the same death sentence had she not somehow escaped. And though she did not actually live this story, her body somehow had, for she'd felt the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse in the carriage with the Marauders.

She was still Hermione Jean Granger, a muggleborn who had muggle parents. But the universe made sure she could never come in contact with her family bloodline ever again.

She was truly alone.

Hermione's eyes wandered back to Dumbledore, and had a sudden urge to tell him everything that had happened in the future and with Voldemort. She would have to eventually, for if she wanted to destroy any horcux she would need the sword of Gryffindor.

It was at that thought that she came to a full halt.

"No," she breathed in horror. The sword…it wouldn't work! It needed basilisk venom embedded inside of it, and that only occurred because Harry had killed the basilisk in the chamber of secrets in her second year. Unless she decided to go to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on her own and hiss at a faucet until the chamber opened, and somehow drive the sword of Gryffindor into the basilisk's skull before getting petrified again when looking into its eyes, she had a fat chance of destroying any horcruxes.

Why the hell hadn't she thought of that?

"Something bothering you, Miss Granger?"

Dumbledore's voice snapped her back to the present. She swallowed painfully and shook her head.

"Nothing, Professor. Just…just excited to start my term."

Dumbledore rose from his chair and reached above one of the shelves, retrieving a dusty, haphazardly patched hat, one Hermione knew very well. "Let us not delay, then. I'm certain the first-years are beginning to get restless."

He drifted over to stand beside her, and carefully placed the hat atop her head.

"Hermione Granger, fancy meeting you…again," the Sorting Hat said quietly, and Hermione's eyes widened and almost spoke, but remembered that Dumbledore was still in the room.

How do you know? she thought with a slight shiver of panic.

"I know your mind, Miss Granger…I see everything you've seen," was the hat's reply, but she detected amusement.

Hermione closed her eyes resignedly. So then you know what house I belong in.

"Indeed, but is it the house you need to be in this time?"

The thought struck her. If she were to think about it…most of the people she needed to confront were the prospective death eaters. If she were to be in Slytherin, it would be possible to keep them from joining Voldemort…and Snape was in Slytherin, so it would be quite beneficial…

But at the thought of the Gryffindors, and most importantly Peter Pettigrew, Hermione steeled herself.

Yes, she thought with unwavering certainty.

"As you wish," the hat whispered, "but before I announce it, let me leave you with this…the past is very difficult to change, Miss Granger. If one thing fixes, another thing breaks."

Hermione furrowed her brows, but before she could ponder its words the hat announced loudly, "GRYFFINDOR."

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, and removed the hat from her head. "Congratulations," the old wizard grinned happily. "I shall escort you to the Great Hall where you will join the other students. Enjoy your term, Miss Granger."

They left the office and headed down the corridor, finally meeting the enormous brass doors that led to the Great Hall. "I believe I may cause a commotion if I were to enter with you, Miss Granger. I leave you here."

She nodded and watched Dumbledore walk away, and she took a steadying breath. She stepped inside.

Inside was near chaos, had McGonagall—the face of a livid sorceress—kept the students from acting out. The absence of the Headmaster—and the Sorting Hat, for that matter—caused the Hogwarts students to become restless. The chattering was incessant, and sixth-years were speaking darkly to the first-years lined up for Sorting.

"You have to kill it within twenty seconds before it bites you with its venomous teeth," she heard one student say to a trembling blonde-haired boy. Hermione grinned at how much it reminded her of Fred and George.

She walked slowly along the Gryffindor table, debating where she should sit.

"Oi! Granger! Over here!" a voice shouted, and her attention snapped a few feet away from her. She saw James waving his hand, motioning for her to sit by him.

She started towards him when a hand shot out to her arm. She paused, and saw a pretty red-headed girl shake her head. "Don't even bother. His head is filled with as much air as a fifty-foot balloon."

Hermione couldn't stifle a giggle as she looked at the girl in wonder. Her eyes were vivid green, with flaming hair that cascaded gently down her shoulders. Hermione recognized her as the girl James had tried to help earlier with the trunks—

Lily Evans! her mind shouted in glee.

"You're probably right," Hermione grinned, and took a seat next to the girl when she moved to make room for her. Hermione held out her hand. "Hermione Granger."

"Lily Evans," the girl grinned. Lily looked over in the direction of James, who seemed put-out momentarily before gazing at the pair with unmasked interest. Hermione's eyes traveled to the rest of the gang that sat around him.

She squirmed when Sirius caught her eye again, staring as he did on the train. She shifted uncomfortably and decided to resume her conversation with Lily.

"Are you a fifth year?" she asked.

Lily nodded. "You're the transfer student everyone's talking about," Lily stated more than questioned.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "People are talking about me?"

Lily shrugged nonchalantly, easily picking up Hermione's discomfort. "Not really, just word of mouth…Hogwarts doesn't get many transfer students, is all." Lily gave an encouraging smile and switched her attention to the sorting that had finally begun.

Hermione nodded slightly, worry etched on her face.

It seemed anonymity was out of the question…yet again.

"I just want this over already," Lily admitted, glancing at the Slytherin table almost longingly. She smiled faintly and then turned around, but glared when James tried to catch her attention by sending the tiniest of shooting stars in her direction from his wand. Lily's jaw tightened and she ignored him, turning around completely in her seat to face the ceremony.

"I'm guessing you're not very fond of James Potter," Hermione teased lightly.

"You'd best stay away from them," Lily warned her darkly, inclining her head to where the Marauders sat. Hermione glanced at them briefly before saying, "Why?"

"They're nothing but trouble-making tossers, that lot," Lily growled. "All they know is how to show off and bully people for fun. Now," a small smile spread on her face, "I can't wait to introduce you to my friends.Especially Severus. I'm sure you two will hit it off right away," Lily smiled at the thought, and glanced at the Slytherin table once more. "Unlike Potter, Severus has one of the most brilliant, talented minds at Hogwarts.He appreciates his education, not wasting it on silly pranks."

Severus Snape, Hermione realized, was sitting there, which was why Lily kept throwing glances at the Slytherin table every so often. She wondered what Snape was like in his time at Hogwarts. Probably bitter and spiteful just as he was as a Potions teacher.

A long sorting ceremony and a feast later, Hermione felt herself gravitate out of the great hall once they had been dismissed to their dormitories. She yawned, the enormous amount of food effectively causing her to want nothing but to collapse her bed.

Lily introduced her to her other friends, including Alice Wilkins and Amelia Abbot, along with a few others from different houses. Hermione found herself quickly getting along with them, for their friendliness and humor turned her so-far tumultuous journey into the past a shade brighter.

"Severus!" Lily's eyes glittered with happiness momentarily and she motioned for him in her direction. Hermione spun around to catch a tall figure walking stiffly towards them.

Fifteen-year-old Severus Snape had long hair that hid most of his face, a hooked nose, and shoulders that hunched as if to draw the least amount of attention to himself. As he faced Lily, however, his demeanor changed completely. His body grew more relaxed, and he moved the strands of hair from his face to grin down at her.

"Evening, Lily," he grinned and Hermione couldn't help a tiny gasp when Lily launched herself in Severus's arms with a squeal, and he held her in a tight embrace.

"That was probably the longest, most boring sorting of the century," Lily grinned up at him, loosening her hold on his neck but not detaching herself. Severus seemed quite thrilled that she clung to him so ardently and tightened his hold around her waist for a moment, laughing with her.

Hermione couldn't believe that this happy, young man was the same man who glared at everything that breathed twenty years in the future. Severus Snape the Potions Master was vastly different from Severus Snape the schoolboy.

Hermione lowered her eyes, feeling suddenly awkward, not knowing if she should still be here when they clearly wanted to talk amongst themselves. She discreetly began to inch away when Lily gasped.

"That's right, I forgot!" Hermione yelped when Lily's strong hand yanked her forward, bringing her stumbling into Severus. His eyes widened and he raised a hand to steady her, and Hermione straightened immediately. Lily smiled and announced, "This is my new friend, Hermione Granger! She's the transfer student we spoke about earlier."

Hermione couldn't help the pink tinge that formed on her cheeks when she heard that last statement. Why was everyone so curious about her arrival that they held interested conversations about her? Was it because they knew about the Death Eater attack on her family?

"Severus Snape," Snape said shyly, glancing down. Hermione couldn't fight the smile from spreading on her face. Young Severus was simply too adorable, and she had to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks.

She held out her hand and grinned. "It's nice to finally meet you," Hermione said, shocking Severus with her eagerness. He smiled curiously and took her hand as she shook it firmly.

"Finally…?"

"Oh yes," Hermione said deviously. "Lily told me all about you and your brilliant mind." Lily began laughing when Severus turned beat red and spluttered as he shook his head, and only stopped when Lily stepped toward him to loop her arms around his neck again. He began to smile again and looked over at Hermione nervously.

"So you're in Gryffindor?" Snape asked with a smile.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore thought it'd be easier to sort me separately, so as to not draw too much attention to my arrival. But it seems everyone knows who I am anyway."

Snape nodded and began discussing fifth-year classes, but after Lily stifled a yawn his eyes snapped to her immediately. He urged them then, to their dormitories and rest, and after many protests on Lily's behalf, they began to climb the grand staircase.

Lily and Hermione made their way to the Gryffindor common room and climbed through the portrait hole. Immediately Lily shucked off her Hogwarts robe and stretched, hearing a few joints crack. Hermione followed suit and stifled another yawn.

"Long day, huh, Evans?" a jolly James grinned, coming into view as the Marauders also climbed through the portrait hole. The content expression on Lily's face was wiped away, leaving an irritated grimace.

"Goodnight, Potter," she said tonelessly, and linked her arm with Hermione's. "Let's go, Hermione."

She smiled apologetically at James, who sighed in defeat yet again as Remus patted his shoulder consolingly.

It was at night when everyone was fast asleep that Hermione began to think.

Her heart was racing at the finality of her readmission into Hogwarts. She began to accept her living situation with James and the rest of the Potters, as well as the circumstances upon which she arrived to this decade. Her mind wandered over to the words the Sorting hat had whispered to her in secret.

If one thing fixes, another thing breaks.

Hermione couldn't stifle the shiver that ran through her. She understood it perfectly. Her presence in the past had its consequences. This applied to her directly—using the Sands of Destiny to bring her to the 1970's had enabled her to have a false family history. Everything that had "happened" to her in this life was real. As was explained the aftereffects of a Cruciatus Curse she had yet to be cursed with.

The damn hat basically crushed everything she set out to do. Dumbledore should've spoken with it before giving her the blasted Time-Turner.

Hermione tossed between the sheets, restlessness coursing through her body. Giving up, Hermione pushed the covers away with her legs and sat up. She eyed the dormitory, making sure that the rest of the girls were asleep. Softly as to not wake anyone, she crept out of bed and opened the door, silently making her way out of the girls' dormitory.

She faced the door that led to the common room, and quirked a brow when she saw the faint glow of light seeping through the door's edges.

Great, diabolical plan of isolation is now ruined.

She contemplated abandoning her little privacy adventure and just trudge back up to her bed. But sleep did not overcome her, and the restless itch in her muscles made her fidget uncomfortably. Taking a breath, she turned the knob.

The common room was empty, but she saw a small fire burning in the fireplace. Hermione sighed and stretched, feeling herself relax as she finally had a few minutes to herself. The corners of her mouth turned up as she remembered sneaking down here in the dead of night numerous times with Harry and Ron.

Padding softly to one of the red, squishy armchairs, Hermione gasped when she saw another figure already sitting in it.

"Oh, u-um, hello," Hermione stuttered. Sirius was lounging comfortable in the armchair with a piece of chocolate hanging from his mouth. He seemed just as shocked to find her in the common room so late at night, but as she gazed at him she saw just the slightest flicker of amusement.

Sirius swallowed and seemingly got over his initial shock as a grin spread on his face. "Why hello, love. Fancy seeing you here this fine morning."

Hermione nearly rolled her eyes at his casual statement. He patted the armchair beside him invitingly and Hermione hesitated for a moment before walking up beside him, sinking into the sofa. Her gaze followed his hand as he lifted it to his mouth and stuffed it with another bite of chocolate. She saw the wrapping lying forgotten by his feet and smirked to herself.

"Chocolate frogs again?" she couldn't stop the smile from spreading on her face. "The ones in the train ride weren't enough?"

"They never really are, no," sighed Sirius, and Hermione suppressed a grin. He gazed at her contemplatively, and said, "Why are you up this late?"

Hermione couldn't help but freeze a little. He was staring intently at her again, just like when she met him on the train. Shrugging, she replied nonchalantly, "Couldn't sleep." He didn't seem satisfied with the answer but let it go, returning his attention the chocolate in his hand. Suddenly he reached in his pocket and procured a blue box with golden wrappings.

"Hungry?"

Hermione watched him carefully, then looked down at the chocolate frog box in his hand. Slowly, she reached over and took the box, but not before she felt her fingers gently brush against Sirius's palm. She felt a jolt go through her but she stifled it, flickering her eyes to his. He silently watched her too, then retreated his hand.

Silence fell between them. Hermione felt awkward, not knowing what to say anymore. She snuck a glance at him through the corner of her eye and saw a pensive look on Sirius's face as he stared at the glimmering flames. She began untying the golden thread wrappings and gingerly brought the chocolate to her mouth.

Once again, for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Hermione focused her eyes on Sirius Black. Though her experience in this new era had been somewhat surreal and heart-wrenching, she had accepted it. Waking up in the home of James Potter had been a shock, but she had accepted it. Finding Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew more than twenty years younger than she knew was difficult to grapple, but she had accepted it.

But finding Sirius on the train, as he watched her with unfathomable, inscrutable eyes as he pushed and fought to recognize her—and part of her feared he already had—was very difficult to accept. She couldn't for the life of her understand why it was so hard. She had adjusted to this alternate life, permanently stuck in the 1970's, and she hadn't batted an eye. Perhaps because she knew it would change the future, that Dumbledore's plan in the grand scheme of things had a possibility to work, and that it was her duty to ensure a change in history happened.

Hermione nearly glowered at Sirius. So why was this hard for her? It wasn't just that he'd accidentally met her when he was eleven. No, it was more. She didn't know what, but it infuriated her that she could be in his presence and not be her controlled, determined self. She be couldn't herself at all. She looked at him—as she did now—and horrible, painful thoughts erupted in her mind, memories flipping through her mind like pages of a book.

The night that she met Sirius—sunken, sallow, starved, and broken, in the shrieking shack; locked inside Hogwarts awaiting for the dementor's kiss, until Harry and Hermione rescued him on Buckbeak; arriving at the Order headquarters at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place; the inescapable nights of fear when she would creep down from her room in the dead of night to the kitchen, but finding Sirius already there with his shoulders sagged in age-old tiredness and defeat, clinging to the memory of the people he'd lost; when Harry's own mind betrayed him as he forced his way into the Department of Mysteries as he realized Sirius had never been in danger at all; Sirius arriving with the rest of the Order members, delighting in dueling any Death Eater that raised a wand against him and anyone else; waking up next to Neville Longbottom and hearing the anguished cries of Harry as she realized, in horror, the Sirius had been pushed beyond the Veil in the archway, never to return; the utter hopelessness as she sat next to the repairing-then-destroying cabinet where all of the Time-Turners had been irrevocably smashed, placing finality in Sirius Black's permanent demise…

The memories flitted mercilessly through her mind and her hands began to tremble, her eyes widened in shock and fixated unwaveringly at the young boy of fifteen before her, the boy whose future was in her hands, her hands to change his fate so that he'd never have to endure twelve years in Azkaban, imprisoned for a crime he'd never commit, would rather die than betray his friends…

"Hermione?" Sirius's concerned voice broke her out of her reverie, but she still gazed him with wide eyes. Sirius could tell the instant a change had happened inside her; when she'd gone suddenly still and her eyes grew distant, gazing at him as if she were looking through him. Despite his feelings of uncertainty where she was concerned, he couldn't help the worry that was etched on his face as he gazed at the unmistakable fear written all over her.

"Hermione?" he repeated. Slowly, he put the chocolate frog down on the floor as it hopped away easily, but he didn't seem to notice. Perhaps she is thinking of her family that was lost under the wands of Voldemort's followers? Sirius thought vaguely. Or is it the torture she'd endured in the aftermath?

In a sudden movement Hermione leapt from the armchair and kneeled beside Sirius, and he was taken aback, spluttering at her.

Hermione couldn't control it. She didn't want him to die. She wouldn't let him die.

She wouldn't let anyone die. That was why she was here.

Hermione's fingers gripped the armrest in a vice-like grip, controlling the urge to reach out and grab him into a fierce hug—something he'd done with her after she helped him escape Azkaban, and when she arrived at Grimmauld Place during the summer of her fifth year. Merlin, how was she supposed to act normal around him? Around Remus? Around Peter? The man who betrayed Lily and James Potter? How was she going to pull this off?

"I realize you don't like me very much right now," she found herself saying almost hoarsely, and his eyes widened. "I never said—" he began weakly but she continued. "But James has been so incredibly kind to me these past few days since my arrival here. And you, Remus, and Peter have been nothing but nice to me. I…I won't forget that. Not after everything I've lost." She swallowed hard, fighting to push away the memory of the empty veil where the older Sirius had fallen through. "I…hope someday you may find a friend in me."

Finally she couldn't resist the urge and reached her hand to lightly touch his arm that was in his lap. Withdrawing quickly and before he could protest, she smiled and stood from him, striding back to the door that lead to the girls' dormitory. She turned her head slightly and smiled brightly. "Thank you for the chocolate." She disappeared behind the door and shut it quietly.

Sirius was left breathing rapidly as he tried to control the furious hammer of his heart. He stared at the spot where she had been kneeling, and at the armrest where her fingers held onto it with a death grip. Then his eyes travelled to his arm, the warmth of her fingers still lingering on his skin.

He remembered the sad, conflicted eyes that pierced through him, and he could almost taste the unholy sadness that was Hermione Granger.

Merlin, what had happened to the girl to cause her so much suffering?

xxx

The first class of the day was Potions, to which Hermione was—surprisingly—glad she sat next to Snape. It was the only instance that she saw him at complete peace, staring at the simmering cauldron as if brewing were child's play.

That, and the fact that the class was predominantly Slytherin and they all seemed to emanate the aura of Death Eaters strangling a kitten made her feel slightly reassured to be seated by someone she'd already been acquainted with, and someone she knew wouldn't harm her since she was becoming fast friends with Lily Evans.

"I think we need the frog legs now," Hermione noted as she poured her eyes fervently on her Potions book. She could almost hear the smirk in Snape's response.

"You think?" Snape said loftily, earning him a sharp gaze from Hermione. His smirk faltered, and he seemed to rethink his words and his position, falling back into the nervous boy she met last night.

"I'm certain," she glowered, but she allowed a hint of amusement to flicker over her expression so as to not torture him too much. He caught it quickly and resumed smirking before taking the jar of frog legs and unscrewing the metal lid.

"Have you spoken to Lily lately?" Snape said nonchalantly, eyes trained hard on the frog legs he was extracting from the jar.

Hermione glanced at him, and her lips quirked. Focusing her attention on the potion instructions, she answered calmly, "Oh well, we do share the same dormitory, and we did eat breakfast together in the Great Hall twenty minutes ago, and you did meet up with us after breakfast, so…yeah, I guess I have spoken to Lily lately." He snuck a mischievous glance at him, nearly breaking her controlled expression with his look of chagrin.

"I guess," Snape mumbled, staring into cauldron as he dropped in the amphibian legs into the liquid simmering inside. Hermione's smile shrank as she saw the sullen expression on his face, and she felt a twinge of emotion course through her. He looked immortally depressed all of a sudden, and she was sure that her light remark couldn't possibly have affected him so dismally. But gazing at him, she knew something was stirring in him, dampering his mood. No, she wouldn't have any of that.

Hermione sighed. "You need to stop worrying so much," she said, taking the stirrer from his fingers and resuming where he left off. Severus gazed at her in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged, not really knowing where she was going with this. "Well, you two are best friends, right?" He hesitated, but nodded after a moment. Hermione nodded in affirmation, as if she'd been expecting that answer. "And you wouldn't do anything to hurt her? Say anything to hurt her?" She dropped the hint lightly as she remembered Snape's grave mistake of calling her a Mudblood in this very year. No, she didn't want that to happen this time around.

"Of course not," Severus snapped, and a look of mild irritation flitted through his eyes.

Hermione sighed again and looked at him wearily, trying to convey the double meaning of her words. "So then, stop worrying so much."

He kept silent, pondering over her words. After a few moments, he muttered, "Pass me the roots."

She picked up the roots and handed them carefully, eyeing Severus with caution. Hopefully he hadn't taken offense to her words, and hopefully, hopefully…

They stared at each other for a while, challenging the other to waver. After a few moments, she saw the spark in his eye and she couldn't prevent the grin that started to take form on her face, and she noticed with glee that her smile was the catalyst to his own small, badly suppressed grin, and within moments they laughed easily and resumed working on their potion.

"You know, Granger," Severus chuckled as his knife carefully cut the roots. "I could get used to this."

She felt a jolt go through her, a glimmer of an emotion she was too afraid to acknowledge was real coursing through her blood and tingling her skin. She let out a breath and reached over to touch his arm very lightly.

"My name's Hermione."

He glanced up sharply, shock registered on his face, and a small, tentative smile lit his eyes.

xxx

After an hour in Potions and another in History of Magic, Hermione found herself sitting in the Transfiguration classroom with excitement. It was her first day with Professor McGonagall since she'd escorted Hermione to Dumbledore's to get sorted, and Hermione felt the familiar crackle in her brain, the need to achieve above and beyond and gain the respect from her professors. And with McGonagall—a teacher with whom she shared a mutual admiration—it was almost necessary to be accepted by her.

Hermione was seated a row behind the front, her back straight and her wand delicately placed on her desk. A quill and parchment were aligned in the middle, the ink bottle carefully beside it. Anticipation bubbled excitedly in her, momentarily causing her to forget her surroundings.

"Look who decided to take over my seat," a voice said, and Hermione glanced up to see James staring down at her with a mock-glare.

"Sorry," said Hermione, but James just shrugged. "No matter, I shall hark on this fine oaken platform hither," he announced, dramatically falling in the seat beside hers.

"Stop teasing her, James, she doesn't know when you're being serious yet," the serene voice of Remus said, and he took a seat to her left with genuine smile.

"Don't be silly, Remus, only I can be Sirius," a deep voice wafted behind her, and Sirius plopped down on the seat directly in back of her. "Morning again," he smiled, and she returned it with one of her own.

"Hello, Hermione," a tentative voice said, and Hermione turned to face the front. Peter was sitting in front of her. She returned the smile eagerly. "Hello, Peter!" His hesitance evaporated as a genuine smile spread on his face at her kindness, and he gave a small laugh.

Good. She needed him to be happy, to feel a part of something more than just a sidekick of Sirius and James. With any luck, by the end of the semester she will have helped him grow a sturdy backbone against any taunts that may come his way, anything that would force him to betray his friends in the next few years. She reminded herself that this Peter was still just a fourteen-year-old boy, shy, and not at all capable of killing anyone. He still had good in him, and that meant he had a chance.

"Well, if what I see is correct, it seems all four of you have surrounded me," Hermione said dryly, and it was true. Peter up front, Sirius in back, and James and Remus at both her sides: it was almost overwhelming to be in the presence of all four Marauders so…oppressively.

But perhaps it was a good oppressive.

"Your observational skills astound me," James said wryly.

"Must be the Gryffindor in you talking," Remus noted.

"Roaring, actually," Sirius corrected, and they erupted in easy laughter. She noticed Peter's face as he watched the light banter pass between the other three, and he giggled whenever a particularly good tease was thrown into the conversation. She noticed, with a fraction of sadness, that he hardly participated with his own witty comments. Perhaps he was too afraid to be noticed, to be made fun of, even if it was by his best friends…always so intimidated…

"Say Peter, how do you think Transfiguration will be this year?" asked Hermione suddenly.

He seemed to freeze, caught unawares that Hermione would actually, willingly, strike up a conversation with him. His small, boyish face had a look of shock for a moment, before he stammered out, "W-well it is our fifth year, and the OWLs are approaching…I assume it will be far more difficult than any year before but, I do think it won't be too rough if we study hard."

"Excellent," Hermione beamed. "That was exactly what I was thinking. I've always believed trying very, very hard will always be rewarding. I've never actually had trouble with Transfiguration—don't get me wrong, the incantations are very tricky, and I did have my fair share of trouble last year with the basics of vanishment, but hopefully all will go well."

Peter seemed struck, as if he couldn't believe someone other than the Marauders had remotely any interest in having a full-length conversation with him. But, slowly, the confusion wore off, and his demeanor relaxed, and he started agreeing with her and added his own little input with the prior years of Transfiguration he had with McGonagall, and how though it seemed difficult he found it rather easy.

"Though she'll chew you alive if you don't live up to her expectations," Peter said darkly. "In my third year she nearly hexed me for getting an 'E' on one of her pop examinations. Never stopped slacking for that class since then."

"An 'E'?" Hermione said disbelievingly. "But Peter, that's—that's—"

A grade I would have gotten and received the same treatment, Hermione thought to herself. McGonagall was disappointed in him for receiving and 'E'? And only in his third year, no less? Never, up until now, did she realize the hidden talent inside the boy before her…

"Peter…" she said slowly. "What was your grade for this class last year?"

He pinkened at the wonder in her voice. She watched him frantically glance at Sirius and Remus and James, relieved that they were still barking amongst themselves. Timidly he whispered, "An 'O'."

She nodded, and a smile began to spread on her face. "That's brilliant, Peter. I think I've finally met my match."

He laughed a little nervously, but she could tell he was beginning to see her in a new light. It was at that precise moment that the door swung open and a set of emerald robes swished down the aisles and marched up to the front desk.

"Good morning, class," Professor McGonagall's stern face said, and the class greeted her respectfully. "We'll start with our lesson right away. Who can tell me what an Animagus is?"

Hermione's hand shot up in the air, but it also included Remus's. She glanced at him, knowing full well why he would know what an Animagus was, and how it certainly was not like a werewolf.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"An Animagus is a witch or wizard who can turn into a specific animal at will. It is more of a skill than a hereditary trait, as is with being a Metamorphmagus."

"Excellent. And what spell is necessary to turn oneself into the animal form?"

Hermione's hand shot up again. "No spell is required for turning into the desired animal, as wand magic is not necessary for the transformation to occur."

"Excellent, five points for Gryffindor," said McGonagall. "I know you all have learned of Animagi and such in your third year, but I bring it up because today we will be transfiguring random objects into fully functional animals. That requires a spell. In your second year I did teach how to turn animals into objects—a barely difficult feat—but instilling life into an object is vastly different. Changing the molecular structure of something to turn into a living, breathing creature is no game. I advise you to proceed with today's lesson with utmost caution."

By the end of her monologue the class was somberly silent, as was custom whenever McGonagall wanted to intimidate her students into working seriously and diligently. Satisfied with the silence, she waved her wand and a projector lighted as she dimmed the candles around the room.

They began taking notes on the incantation and wand movements required. Hermione couldn't help but feel a bit off-guard, mostly because she was never taught how to do the spell in her fifth year. It was classified as 'unnecessary' and though the spell was on the exam, she never had to lift her wand to a cup and transfigure it into a being.

"Now," McGonagall resumed, "as you can see, transfiguring something into an animal requires giving your own energy—no, not your magic, Abbot, energy, to the object. Anyone willing to explain why?"

Hermione almost answered, but she noticed Peter's arm twitch, but he remained motionless. Hermione glanced around the classroom, and realizing nobody made the attempt to answer.

Now was her chance to spark the change inside Pettigrew. Now.

Hermione leaned over her chair and moved to his ear. "Do you know, Peter?" Hermione whispered softly. He didn't turn his head, but nodded lightly.

"Don't hesitate, then. You have a remarkable brain up there; it's time everyone knew about it."

Peter contemplated her words, and briefly Hermione thought he dared not heed her advice. Just as she leaned back into her chair and sighed resignedly, she saw a shaking hand rise in the air.

"Yes, Peter?"

Hermione's eyes widened as McGonagall called on him. Peter swallowed hard before quietly murmuring, "Energy is transferred as the catalyst of instilling life into the object; transferring magic would do it no good as it is already infused with it while the incantation is made, and does not have the life-giving properties or abilities as our own human energy does."

The class seemed shell-shocked, as was McGonagall, as she had an expression of slight surprise. Apparently it was not often that Peter spoke in class, no less participate and give a highly correct answer. McGonagall's surprise did not last long as she gave a slight nod and replied, "Exactly. Ten points for Gryffindor!"

The class broke out in small chatter, wondering how the silent young Gryffindor became something vastly different. Peter turned to her, and incredulous look on his face, and Hermione grinned. "That was great, Peter."

James reached over and clapped Peter on the back. "Oi, mate, where did that come from? If you were this bloody brilliant, why haven't you helped me with my Transfiguration essays, eh?"

"You never asked," Peter answered, and Sirius roared with laughter. "Atta boy, mate, tell 'em how it is," Sirius grinned.

After a few minutes the class resumed their work, and finally got to choose which object they wished to transfigure. Hermione browsed the box filled with random things when something caught her eye.

It was a brass compass, a bit large to fit in her hand. There were needle markings and red arrows and it was heavy to hold for something relatively small compared to the broomsticks and milk jugs inside the box. Hermione picked it up immediately and retreated to her desk.

"Bit bold, don't you think?" Remus noted, and she glanced at him. He gave a small smile. "The smaller the object, the harder it is to transfigure it. Case and point," he gestured at the large, rusted trophy propped before him.

"I'm sure I'll manage," Hermione replied with a half-grin. In earnest she wanted to challenge herself, wanting to test her limits. It was only then that she knew she could handle the next three years.

Three years…Hermione wondered. She never thought of it that way…

Once the class was settled back into their seats McGonagall spoke again. "Since you know the incantation, and you have your objects, it's all about concentration. Have an animal in mind before you begin. Transport your own energy into the object, and the moment you feel a tug, you know the energy has been transferred and you move your wand away immediately. Only a drop of energy, no more. Too much will explode the object. Also," Hermione could feel the impatient shuffling behind her, showing that Sirius was getting antsy and he really wanted to start casting the spell. "succeeding in this spell will not work."

Everyone's jaw simultaneously dropped.

"Not work?" Remus spluttered. "Then what's the point of all this?"

"The point is, Mr. Lupin, that it will not work today. This is advanced magic. You cannot hope to transfigure anything today, but I want you to practice the motions. You can try, try all you need. But do not expect results today."

Remus seemed a bit put out, but gripped his wand firmly anyway with defiant determination written in his eyes. Hermione admired it, and knew that he, just like her, wanted nothing more than to succeed in this task.

"Also, this procedure could also be considered a kind of test. A test of your Transfiguration skills. Usually the ones who grasp the concept the fastest are those more likely to be competent Transfiguration students," McGonagall began to smile. "Prior years have shown that students who can transfigure them first, are usually capable of more advanced transfigurations. More or less, the competence to become Animagi."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat and she looked discreetly at James and Peter, wondering if they were Animagi yet.

Half an hour later, Hermione was positive that none of the Marauders were Animagi yet. She watched from the corner of her eye as James furrowed his brow and muttered, "Vivera!" repeatedly, but to no avail. Peter and Sirius were having the same trouble. Clearly they hadn't mastered their animal counterparts yet. Hermione briefly wondered when they would take interest in it.

Hermione fastened her eyes on the brass compass before her. She'd been at it for just as long, and she could feel herself panting a bit from the effort of drawing out energy from her body into the compass. Remus was right. Smaller objects were much more difficult.

"No luck, Hermione?" Remus asked, his forehead glistening with perspiration. Hermione was in the same state as she had to tie her unruly hair away from her.

"Unfortunately, this compass is quite resilient to me," Hermione muttered agitatedly. Surely this wasn't supposed to be that hard?

She heard him chuckle. "I am afraid my trophy doesn't much like me either."

Hermione scowled. "Oh, don't be so modest. I saw your trophy twitch for a moment."

He was about to respond when Sirius suddenly exclaimed, "I did it! Look! I actually—oh."

Hermione whirled around at the excitement of his voice, and froze when she saw a puppy instead of a bread basket on his table. The only thing was, it failed to move.

"Well, now that you have the transformation part, how about bestowing it some energy, no, Mr. Black?" McGonagall noted lightly, amusement lingering in her eyes. "I little bit less wand waving and a little more concentration should do the trick." She waved her wand and reverted it back into a bread basket and walked away.

Sirius looked positively livid as he stared at the bread basket once more. Hermione fought hard to keep from laughing, but Sirius caught the mirth in her eyes immediately.

"Not one word, Granger," Sirius intoned dangerously.

"I wouldn't dare," she said with difficulty as tried to keep a straight face. It seemed James wasn't as hesitant and began laughing immediately.

" 'Guys, look! I did it! I did it! Oh no'," James mimicked somberly, and Hermione could contain it no more. She broke down into soft laughter that rang in the air mirthfully, and soon Peter and Remus joined her. Sirius still had a look of indignation on his, and he gazed at her with an indescribable emotion.

"At least I managed something," he said defensively, but a reluctant smile started to crack on the corners of his mouth.

"Aw Sirius, it's alright," Hermione grinned and reached out to ruffle his hair playfully. His expression wavered as he locked his eyes with hers. Immediately she realized what she'd done and retracted her arm, the smile fading.

Why did she touch him like that?

Sirius's mouth began to curl upward, holding her gaze as he murmured, "Why don't you show me better results and then we'll call it even?"

"Sounds good to me," she replied faintly. She couldn't rip her eyes away from his grey ones. There was warmth in those irises, warmth like she'd never seen before, not even when she knew him at Grimmauld Place. Hermione felt her face growing hot under the intensity of his gaze and she turned to refocus on the compass before her.

"What am I doing?" Hermione whispered to herself in disbelief. She didn't come back to 1975 to make googly-eyes with Harry's godfather! What kind of twisted game was she playing at?

"Vivera," Hermione pointed her wand at the compass. Nothing. "Vivera," she said earnestly.

She nearly gasped when she saw the compass flicker, a hint of a feather on the dial before disappearing quickly.

Had she…had she almost transfigured it?

Hermione hadn't felt the tug of energy that McGonagall mentioned would happen, which was probably why the compass hadn't transfigured. But the slight feather she'd seen on the dial had been unmistakable. She was so close.

Did that mean she had a small potential at being an Animagus?

Hermione looked around to see if anyone had noticed what happened, but everyone was too immersed into their own spells to take heed of the compass that had slightly shivered on her desk. Caught up in her bubbling excitement, she didn't notice Remus's eyes trained on hers.

"Time is up," Professor McGonagall announced. "Please place your objects back into the box. We shall resume tomorrow."

Hermione huffed in disappointment and placed the brass compass back in the box.

Tomorrow was much too far away.

xxx

Hermione checked her watch, shifted impatiently in her seat. Severus had said he'd meet with her and Lily in the library during lunch so that they could finish go over their Herbology work, but so far Severus was nowhere in sight.

"It's not like Sev to be this late," Lily complained, leaning her forehead in the crook of her arms that were folded on a table.

"He'll be here," Hermione assured, glancing at her watch again.

"Maybe you should go check," mumbled Lily, head still buried in her arms.

"He's your best friend, why don't you look for him?" Hermione retorted.

Lily lifted her head and smiled dreamily. "Because I'm not nearly as nice as you are."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Hermione chided, but stood up nonetheless. Sighing deeply, she exited the library and strolled through the corridors. It felt strange, being this close to Harry's mother, and to Snape for that matter. But she couldn't seem to help herself. Severus Snape really was nothing like he was when she had him as a professor. He was shy, and kind, and even had a sense of humor. He smiled and laughed and looked all of fifteen years young, so carefree, so…

So innocent.

It was a different story when he was by himself. Left alone, or more specifically, without Lily (and for some reason without Hermione as well), Severus became extremely antisocial, secluding himself to the corners of a room and burying his nose in a book. He spoke to no one, made eye contact with nobody, and gave the impenetrable aura of gloom and hatred that left him unapproachable, even to the few who had any inclination to speak to him. He was terse and abrupt, and his spirits only seemed to lighten when given the opportunity lock himself in the Slytherin common room or when a cauldron was placed before him.

She wasn't so sure why Severus had taken to Hermione, and why she had offered him her hand in friendship so quickly. It just seemed so…easy, being his friend. And considering what Dumbledore spoke to her about his horrid demise—death by a snake, and revealing his undying love for Lily Evans—there was more to Severus than he let on. And if, if, she had any hope of changing history, she wished to make sure Severus Snape never frolicked with the Death Eater crowd at Hogwarts.

Just as she wished for Peter, she wished for him.

Hermione sighed. She could only hope.

As Hermione walked lazily down the halls, noticing that her stomach was still growling and that lunch time was slowly but steadily ticking away, she saw movement by the glass window to her right. Beyond the window was a courtyard where several students were eating their lunches, and she almost ignored it when she saw a familiar face.

She felt the oncoming warmth creep up her cheeks as she saw Sirius among the crowd of students. His face was flushed with excitement, his eyes dancing as he grinned. It really was horrible, the way Sirius made her feel. She couldn't help but gaze at him, with memories of her past life and with aspirations to change his fate. And, amongst those thoughts, she started having ones that she knew Harry, or Ron, or anyone she once knew, would never let her live down. Part of her wanted to steer clear of him, knowing that she had fractured some part of his memories by visiting him accidentally in Diagon Alley when he was eleven. And she knew, deep in the recesses of his mind, that some part of him recognized her, almost immediately on the train to Hogwarts. She had been frightened at the fire that gleamed in his eyes, the words she knew he hadn't forgotten that had been exchanged by the pair. He knew too much, far too much…if she wasn't careful, Sirius Black could easily foil any plan she had for the 70's.

But Hermione's smile faded as she saw something, something wholly different about the way he was smiling, the way the corners of his lips curled not genially, but as if he were thoroughly entertained by something…

Hermione blanched and rushed to the door to the courtyard, striding in long steps to where Sirius stood. She noticed James was right beside him, laughing gaily. Hermione could feel her blood go cold.

"Let's give him a beard, shall we?" James asked innocently.

"Nah, too easy. How does a pair of knockers sound?" Sirius made a crude gesture around his chest, and James sniggered.

"How about this?" James said deviously, and pointed his wand at a figure lying on the floor.

Hermione gazed incredulously at the stiff form of Severus on the grassy grounds of the courtyard. From the looks of it, one of the Marauders had casted the Petrificus Totalus spell on him, leaving him completely paralyzed, and the pair was deciding how to transfigure him hideously.

She watched in horror as James aimed his wand deftly at Severus's arm and moved it slowly, running the length of his forearm. She saw smoke rising from his sleeve, and Sirius shifted nervously.

"James, what are you—"

"Stop it!" Hermione screamed. She rushed over and James broke away from Severus, glancing up sharply. His stricken face relaxed slightly when he noticed who it was.

"Hermione—"

"Don't say my name!" Hermione shouted. She whipped out her wand and both James and Sirius took an automatic step back. Hermione did not spare them a glance but focused on the still form on the ground.

"Finite Incantatum," she said decisively, and immediately Severus began to move, rolling over in pain.

"We were just having a laugh, Hermione," James insisted as Hermione crouched on the ground by Severus, carefully grasping his arm.

"Don't you dare speak my name!"

James flinched, and Hermione gingerly helped Severus to his feet. He was stoically silent, refusing to meet her eye.

"I don't need your help," Severus muttered gruffly, and Hermione snapped, "Hold your pride off for just a moment Snape." Furious, she wheeled around to the pair who hurt him.

"You," Hermione said dangerously low, staring at James with as much hatred as she could muster. Never had she felt like this, not even with Draco Malfoy, the only person who had ever stirred feelings of dislike in her. "You strut around, cast a Petrificus at someone, and start transfiguring their face? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"James Potter, of course," he responded lightly. Sirius nudged him hard, making Hermione's eyes snap to his.

"And you," she whispered. "You think it's funny, hurting people you don't like?"

"We didn't hurt anyone; it was just a bit of fun," Sirius said casually.

"A bit of fun," Hermione repeated slowly, and suddenly memories rushed into her mind, memories she knew didn't belong to her yet. "Now, I think I've heard that one before. About three weeks ago, actually. This woman—crazy girl—thought: you know, why not start hurting a few muggle families? Why not kill a young girl's family and use the Cruciatus curse on her for a while? A few hours, maybe? She thought—and this is a direct quote—that it'd be a bit of fun."

James's mouth was agape, dumbstruck, while Sirius looked like he'd just been slapped. Silence had surrounded them now, all of the students staring at the scene curiously.

James was the first to speak. "Mum said it was only an hour," he said weakly. Hermione felt the floodgate of memories fill her mind again, flashing a cackling face and unimaginable agony.

Her mouth was set grim across her face as she whispered, "She was wrong."

James made no motion to speak anymore, and Sirius was staring at her despairingly, but she ignored it. At the moment, she felt nothing but hatred towards the pair.

And I wanted to help him? Hermione thought bitterly. She wanted nothing to do with him or James for that matter.

"Let me make something very, very clear," Hermione said calmly. She raised her wand to them threateningly, and they instinctively moved away immediately. "You will not speak to me; you will stay away from me completely. If you see me in the hallway, you will go the other way. And if you see Severus, and you decide it would be fun to raise a wand against him again—believe me when I say this: the moment I learn something's happened to him because of you two, I'll have a bit of fun of my own."

Her eyes moved to Sirius. A grimace spread on her face that she could not contain and she shook her head, locking her eyes with his. "You disgust me."

She spun around and grasped Severus lightly by the arm, guiding him out of the courtyard. The silence continued, and once they reached the corridor Severus extracted her hand from his arm.

"I am alright," he said quietly.

"You should go to the hospital wing," she noted, gazing at the injured forearm where smoke had been rising from.

"No," he said vehemently, clutching the arm to his chest protectively. She stepped away.

"Okay, okay, no hospital wing. Let me at least see it. I could help treat it."

"I don't need your help."

Hermione felt anger envelop her once more. "Look Severus," she hissed quietly. "I really could care less how bruised your ego is that some mudblood girl just stood up for you. You should be glad you have friends that actually care about your well-being, because they don't come by often. So I suggest you stop trying to push me away and let me see your bloody arm."

Severus looked at her with wide eyes. Quietly he murmured, "Why did you call yourself that?"

Hermione blinked. "What?" He glared at her. "What, mudblood? I'm sorry. I guess old taunts stick for a while. I'll have to learn to kick the habit."

He stared at her darkly. Even more quietly, almost until she could barely hear him, he muttered, "Don't call yourself that again."

Hermione looked at him with surprise, and nodded silently. Slowly Severus moved his injured arm away from his chest, and held it towards her.

xxx

When Lily found out what had happened to Severus, she went on a violent rampage. The moment they were in the common room, she hunted down James and thrashed him multiple times before turning to Sirius and hexed him. She turned frostily away from the pair and marched up to the girls' dormitory with Hermione, where she proceeded to rant about the idiocy of the human race.

The next day Hermione found herself in the Transfiguration classroom again. She noticed that Sirius and James chose to sit in the back of the room instead, taking her words to heart. Good. She didn't want anything to do with them.

It gave her some joy that her quarrel with the pair didn't affect her budding friendship with Peter or Remus. Remus mused distastefully at the degrading acts the two had committed, and Peter merely shook his head.

The golden compass was in front of her again, and she whispered the spell over and over, forcing her energy to latch onto the circular device. Anger welled in her again.

"Vivera," she whispered desperately, but nothing happened. She knew it wouldn't; only truly advanced students could even dream to achieve this feat on only the second day of practice. She looked behind slightly and saw Sirius with the same concentrated look written on his face, muttering the spell with determination. Anger welled in her again as she remembered last afternoon.

Angrily she turned back to the compass. Why wouldn't it work for her? Why was this so difficult?

How could she be expected to achieve anything in this decade if she couldn't even master a fifth-year spell!

"Vivera!" she cried, and was shocked when she felt a tug at her heart. Her wand trembling, she noticed the compass was shaking. Remembering McGonagall's words she moved her wand away quickly, ensuring not too much energy was drained from her.

The compass was shivering, distorting in size as her energy flowed freely through the circular contraption.

Suddenly the compass exploded, sending shards flying in every direction. Hermione yelped and jumped from the desk so that she wouldn't be struck with the worst of the shards.

I guess I still infused too much energy into it, Hermione thought dryly.

McGonagall was by her side in an instant as she examined the remains of her compass. "As expected during the first energy transference," McGonagall sniffed, but looked at her with something close to admiration. "I must say, Miss Granger, I definitely did not expect progress this fast. This is truly quite remarkable."

"But, I didn't transfigure it," Hermione protested, but McGonagall waved her words away. "That is a long ways task, Miss Granger. The fact that you were able to transfer your own energy after just two days tells me that I can expect great things from you."

Almost immediately sounds of bursting objects erupted in sequence around the room. Startled, Hermione glanced around to where it came from. She saw the objects that Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James possessed had all exploded.

McGonagall raised her eyebrows in disbelief, and Hermione gaped at the Marauders openly. After a moment she gave a shaky sigh. "It appears Gryffindor is far more talented than I expected this year. Twenty points to Gryffindor."

Hermione glanced at Remus who shrugged with a smile, and Peter seemed absolutely delighted at his destroyed statue head. James was shocked, and Sirius held a look of contentment on his face. He felt Hermione's stare and glanced up, surprise written on his face. Hermione glared at him and he averted his gaze, am uncharacteristic tinge lighting his ears.

Hermione turned away and waved her wand, repairing the broken brass compass.

The Marauders wouldn't be the only unregistered Animagi this year.
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Sands of Destiny