Hi there!
So this is my first story so be gentle (ish, don't hold back if you really feel it needs to be said) and enjoy (hopefully!)
Disclaimer- For whole story:
I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.
Thanks.
It was raining. Somehow this seemed fitting, and Hermione did not bother to bring her coat, deciding instead to endure the cold water for a while as she kneeled before the large headstone in front of her. It was the least she could do in their honour after all.
Her eyes swept over the names engraved in gold into the marble stone. Her parents' names.
The familiar saying that no parents should have to bury their child sprang to her mind as she read their death dates. Exhaling slowly through her nose, she brushed a few browning mushy petals off ground beneath the pot of flowers and thought to herself about how the saying should be amended to "nobody should have to bury anybody they loved." Wincing internally at the past tense she had already began to use when referring to the people she knew who had died in the war, Hermione checked around briefly for any muggles in the vicinity before silently casting a spell to keep the flowers on the grave fresh eternally. She did not after all know when, or indeed if, she would be back. If all went to plan, this would not be a problem, but if not… It felt wrong to leave without some token.
Suddenly, Hermione became aware of the fact she could no longer feel the rain pouring down on her and was warmer. Glancing upwards she realised her best friend Harry was here already. He smiled sadly down at her, holding an umbrella aloft above them and slipping his wand into his pocket (clearly having just cast the charm over her which had warmed her so).
"Are you sure you want to do this Mione?" He asked as he watched her silently stand and turn away from the grave.
"Yes." Hermione replied almost at once in a small voice, not trusting herself to say anything more than that just yet.
"Okay." Harry said simply, holding out his arm for her, which she gratefully took before they walked back towards the gate she had come through earlier.
"Harry…" Hermione began before breaking off, biting her lip and looking down at the door mat to the house they were about to enter.
"We can do this." He told her, instantly knowing the doubts, fears, worries and concerns she had been about to express. During and after the war both sides had lost many loved ones. Her parents, Arthur Weasley, Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Snape, Ginny and Ron to name but a few. Factor in the countless innocent and unnamed muggle victims and you had a huge bloodbath on your hands. In this time Hermione and Harry had been thrown together and become even closer than they had previously been.
"I just can't help but worry I've got it wrong and… What if we make it worse than it was?"
"There's just as good a chance we are going to make it a lot better." He whispered, and without him having to say it Hermione knew he was thinking of Ginny, Ron and his family… All of which he was not given enough time with.
"Okay then." She conceded, and they peered around them before Harry murmured Alohomora and they slipped inside the small detached cottage like house.
"Lumos!" The dark hallway was filled with light, illuminated by their wands which they'd lit in unison. The pools of light revealed the cluttered but cosy layout of a family home which had been left empty for the past week or so. Which was correct, this family being on holiday in Egypt (thanks to the carefully timed "Adventure Holiday" prize letter that had arrived three days before Harry and Hermione planned to "borrow" this house.
They'd needed a place to stay near to the graves and out of the way enough that they could perform the complex magic they needed to accomplish their mission. Hermione had originally suggested they camp in a tent like they had done when hunting Horcruxes in their seventh year. Harry however had told her about how Slughorn used to move around from house to house whilst avoiding the Death Eaters. He never stayed anywhere longer than a week and restored the house to its prior state before leaving. At first Hermione had been reluctant, feeling it to be morally questionable, but she'd been easily swayed when Harry Pointed out what they were trying to achieve would ultimately make everything a lot better for muggles worldwide in the long run.
It was almost uncanny how many of Dumbledore's mannerisms Harry had adopted after the war, at times when they felt happier, Hermione would tease him and say before long he'd be growing a long white beard and switching his round glasses for half-moon spectacles. One of the more obvious distinctly Dumbledore-ish ways he'd taken on as of late was the idea of the "greater good". The old Harry would deliberate too long about sacrifices, in his fifth year he'd been willing to hand the prophecy back to Lucius Malfoy in order to save his friends. War hardened people though, and while he was still a good friend, Hermione sometimes missed the Harry who would never risk the life of a friend for a cause, no matter how good said cause was.
They had chosen this house specifically because it met all the needs they had in mind when they'd poured over all their notes and research. Not only was it near the graves (though naturally this had been high up on both of their lists) but it was also one of the few houses in this area which had still been standing in 1942. Unless of course they had gotten everything awfully wrong and were about to appear in an unknown area.
Putting all this from her mind, Hermione focused on the task at hand. Walking through to the kitchen she waved her wand upwards, sending the ball of light at the end of her wand up to the light on the ceiling instead.
"Accio flask." Harry called behind her, and she stepped aside slightly to allow the flask to fly past her into Harry's outstretched hand so that he could catch it.
"Still got the seeker reflexes." She grinned at him, though it didn't quite reach her hands.
The seriousness of what they were about to undertake had hit her and as she reached for the bags and trunks she'd left there ready for them she felt her previous anxieties began to leave her. It had already been this way for her in the war. Making the plans and the build-up were the worst part for her, but once the plans actually began to be put into place she began to relax.
Pulling the time turner out of her coat pocket she moved towards Harry once more, standing on tip toe so as to encircle them both in the intricate device. Harry's hand was shaking slightly as he tried to undo the flask, so she gently extended a hand to steady his before tapping the lid with her wand.
"Bottoms up." Harry half smiled, pouring his measure into the cup from the flask (a cheap plastic buy from a muggle supermarket nearby) and handing her the bottle.
The potion had taken weeks to prepare, though nowhere near as long as the time turner had needed to be procured. Most of the time turners had been destroyed at the end of their fifth year thanks to the disturbance in the department of mysteries, but mercifully McGonagall had (on Dumbledore's orders) kept the time tuner that Hermione had used in her third year.
If they'd been unsure whether they should attempt this at all, their fears had been lessened when they heard this from McGonagall herself. As Harry had pointed out, Dumbledore seemed to have known there was a possibility this would be needed.
Downing the potion in one gulp, and forcing herself to keep down the vile flavour (which was not entirely masked with the honey the potions book had recommended), Hermione watched Harry do the same before she took a deep breath and began to turn the time turner backwards. The potion they'd drank was a strengthening potion, designed to intensify any magic used in relation to its drinker. This meant it was also dangerous, so much could go wrong. After taking the potion the effects could last for up to twelve hours afterwards, meaning even a weak disarming charm could be enough to do permanent brain damage. In the quantity Harry and Hermione needed for this to work… said weak spell could kill them. For this reason they'd need to be on their guard when they arrived, lest an unsuspecting witch or wizard hexed them upon sight due to their sudden appearance.
It also meant that Hermione had to make sure she did the exact amount of turns necessary and no more or less on the time turner. In normal circumstances doing one or two extra would not be a big deal but with this potion it could be the difference of years or perhaps even more.
"Finished." She breathed, clutching the bags and trunk close to her and holding the time turner steady in her other hand.
All around them the room spun rapidly, the scene changing each second, people coming and going until the very walls of the house around them began to come down, till they were left out in the open, the space around them finally slowing till eventually it stopped and everything around them stilled once more.
So yeah, not much happened here I suppose, but I needed to set the scene somewhat, hope you enjoyed and I'll post the next chapter soon. x