Nothing here belongs to me.

Big Luna fan, big time travel fan, wanted to see if they could mix and match. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep writing this.


Victory could be a very empty feeling, Hermione thought to herself. And the longer and harder fought for the victory was, the less triumphant it felt at the end.

But then, if they had more than a paltry party to celebrate with, maybe things would seem brighter. Or if they had less blood on their hands.

Harry meeting Voldemort was supposed to be the end of the war, not the end of the prologue to the war. While their side had certainly suffered losses before that fight, compared to what happened after the fact, those weren't quite so bad...

Harry had defeated Voldemort, and that was supposed to finish it. The Death Eaters were supposed to once more go into hiding and try to buy their ways off.

Instead, Lucius Malfoy had killed the Boy-Who-Won, and the war had been kicked off in earnest. And while victory had come to the side of light and justice, eventually, the cost had been far too high. From what Hermione had been able to tell, there were exactly seventeen adult witches and wizards left in the country. Of which exactly two had been heavily involved in the fighting, and Hermione knew that her own role on the front lines hadn't approached the other's.

The blood on her hands and her mind didn't come close to the blood staining Luna's.

And Hermione was going to ask her to do something to fix both of them. She had to, because she knew that this world wasn't worth living in.


"Luna? Are you here?" Hermione pushed her way into her friend's childhood home, eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room. "I found something in my research, but.. Are you here?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw movement, and went towards it. On the dusty, dirty couch – which very much matched the dusty, dirty room as a room – a blonde-haired witch stirred, looking even paler than she had during her school days. In the six months since the end of the war, Hermione knew Luna had not been taking care of herself. She was rather worried her friend had decided to go see all those she had lost without waiting for it to come naturally.

Well, that was why Hermione was here, even if it wasn't quite the same.

"Hermione?" came the typically dreamy voice, though it held tired overtones. Luna was sitting up now, looking at her visitor. "What is it?"

Hermione sat down on the chair, not waiting for an invitation that wouldn't come anytime soon, most likely. "You know what I was looking into, right?"

"Fixing the unfixable, mending our hearts... You said you found something?"

"Well, I did. I found a spell that might work, but it requires two things.." Hermione looked rather apprehensive at these words, but Luna was starting to look just a little brighter.

"A sacrifice to cast it for you? You know I will, of course, if that's what has to be done..." Luna offered her own life far too gladly, Hermione decided. Especially considering the other part...

"...You have to be the subject of the spell, Luna. I will cast it, if you'll just agree to help."

"Me? Why can't you be the one to go there? I'd rather go on, if one of us must." Luna sounded rather insistent, but Hermione put a stop to that.

"The spell... it sends the subject to their most traumatic experience. It was made to stop that from happening, and mine... is too late to help." Ron had been killed in the last fight of the war, and Harry far too late. Hermione wasn't certain to which she would go, but either one was after where she wanted to be.

Luna, however, looked far too bright now. "You mean... mother? I could.."

And yet, Hermione had to crush Luna's hopes once more. "...I'm sorry, Luna. That part of the spell was a failure, in the attempt I found – the subject arrived just in time to see things, but without enough time to change them. It might be different for you, but..."

"...I'll just see her leave without me again, and it might be much longer before I see her." Luna was suddenly far less enthusiastic about the prospect.

"It's a chance to save our world, Luna, to make sure that there will be others to follow us!" Hermione wasn't sure that she believed Luna's ideas on what was beyond, but she had to make an appeal that would work on someone who held them. And so, she did.

"Follow us? There won't ever be a child to follow me." Luna stared at her hands, and sighed softly. "But one for them, and you... Would be nice. If I changed things... if the blood never happened, do you think I could forget it?"

"I'm sure of it. ...Would you like to proceed today, or is there something you want to do, first?"

Luna answered with a long, silent stare, and a nod. It wasn't a very specific answer, but Hermione knew just what she meant.

"Fine. Fine. So..." Hermione began drawing runes upon the ground, using the only ink nature and a knife could provide.


At 4:03 PM, on April 9th, 2001, Luna Lovegood's place of residence collapsed. No remains were ever found, and both she and Hermione Granger were added to the rather extensive list of missing persons in Great Britain.