DISCLAIMER: Odds are anything you recognise belongs to the fantabulous JK Rowling, and the remainder ... yeah, the remainder's mine :)

A/N: I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while but didn't think I'd actually post it ... oh well. Here I am!
And, yeah, time travel, I know - how original. (sarcasm). I'll try to make it as little cliched as possible, but I'm not making any promises ...

JUST BEFORE YOU READ THE STORY:
* This is set, like, after they break into Gringotts in DH, but before they turn up at Hogwarts, or, indeed, Hogsmeade. It's in between.
* Secondly, I don't think this will be a romance fic; because no matter how much I love Sirius, I'm a die-hard Ron/Hermione and I don't think I could bring myself to write anything else. Sorry :S

So now ... enjoy :)

Her breath came harsh and ragged as she dodged yet another curse fired from behind her. The girl cried out as her foot caught on a tree stump and she stumbled, but quickly righted herself and took off again, sprinting with an animalistic desperation rarely seen in human beings. Her hair flew behind her, snagging in twigs and leaves as she fled her pursuers, who continued to fire curses at random - most of which she dodged.

All fears for the girl's companions had left her head once she had begun running, but now she remembered them and felt pain lurch in her chest that had nothing to do with the blood soaking her shirt. Two words bounced around in her head as she still ran as fast as her feet could take her, tripping and stumbling and every now and then firing a curse over her shoulder.

Harry. Ron.

She sucked in a gasp of air and swerved sharply to the right, narrowly avoiding a Reductor that had been aimed at her back.

Harry. Ron.

She could feel blood trickling down her stomach, and she was farely sure the liquid matting her hair wasn't sweat, either.

Harry. Ron.

Another tree stump threatened to undo her but she managed to jump over it at the last minute, her shoelace now completely undone. She struggled not to let it slow her down. How ridiculous, she realised, would it be: to be caught by the Snatchers again, and all because she hadn't tied the double knot tight enough that morning when she got out of bed.

Harry. Ron.

She wouldn't last much longer. The girl could hear the Snatchers getting closer as her breathing became more laboured and her chest hurt more. Her legs strained and her feet ached and her lungs were on fire. She briefly wondered how much further the wood went. Maybe, just maybe, if she could make it to a town or a village ...

She skidded to an aprupt halt and felt the colour drain from her face and the little remaining air leave her lungs.

She was standing at the edge of a precipice, looking down onto rocks and mud and absolutely nowhere to turn. The girl spun around wildly, her chest heaving, her eyes scanning the surrounding region frantically for any sign of an escape. But there was none. Her mind whirred, spinning through dozens of possibilities that could lead to her getting out of this alive, and finding her friends again.

Harry. Ron.

She could only think of one thing. And it wasn't an option.

But desperate times called for desperate measures. The girl turned again and gazed at the bottom of the precipice. There was next to no chance she would survive the fall. It was completely impossible that she would get away unscathed, or even able bodied enough to flee the Snatchers further. She wished, deliriously, for Voldemort's skill of flying. She could sure use that now.

Crunching leaves behind her signalled the end of her brief respite. The girl felt herself freeze as a cold, gloating voice sounded from behind her.

'Thought you'd get away from us, did you?'

She turned to look at the Snatcher whose name she did not recall but whose appearance she remembered from that awful night at Malfoy Manor. His long, knotted black hair hung from his head and his gold tooth glinted evilly in the afternoon light. He sported a black eye and a red lip from the scuffle earlier but was otherwise uninjured. He leered at her; his cronies behind him - including a certain Fenrir Greyback - grinning unpleasantly at the prospect of yet another successful capture.

'Where are my friends?' Her voice shook, much to her chagrin. She clenched her hand around her wand and raised it, pointing it squarely at the leader's chest. He raised his hands mockingly, still leering.

'Now, now, precious, we didn't hurt no friends of yours. Don't you worry your pretty little head over that.'

Greyback chuckled behind him and Long Hair, as she had christened him, sent the werewolf a warning glance. The girl's heart rate sped up, if that was possible. What had they done to her friends?

Harry. Ron.

Suddenly the "wasn't an option" option was looking much more optional. The girl had survived against the odds before, surely she could bear a little drop?

With a flick of Long Hair's wrist, Greyback started advancing towards her and her mind was made up. She did what none of them were expecting, much less herself.

She jumped.

There was a roar of fury from the werewolf above, but it was soon covered by the deafening rush of wind through her ears. The girl's body wracked with cold and discomfort in the seconds leading up to her death.

Then, with a sickening crunch and a splatter of blood, it was over.

Her body lay limp and lifeless on the ground and Hermione Granger was no more.

'No, no, no!' A beautiful woman with sharp features and a heavy scowl, dressed in what looked remarkably like a bedsheet, exclaimed. She tossed her long, golden hair and with a Harumph! fell back onto a plush couch that hadn't been there seconds before. 'The stupid girl wasn't supposed to go and off herself!'

'Now, now, Faye, none of us knew it would happen.' A plump woman with short, brown curls and a kind face said soothingly. She plucked a grape out of midair and chomped on it for a few seconds before continuing with a fond smile on her face. 'That Hermione Granger. So completely her own. I must say, I wouldn't have thought she had it in her. I know, I know, she's a brave girl but all the same ...' She trailed off, looking contemplatively into the distance.

Her sister scowled even more. 'I don't care what she had in her, Taite! We won't know, will we, now that she's off and dead! Argh!' She crossed her arms angrily.

A third woman, short and masculine-looking with straight black hair hanging to her chin, smirked. 'I knew it. Didn't I say? She was reckless, that's what she was. Always taking risks, and yet priding herself on her logic ...' she shook her head, disgusted. 'She got what she deserved, I say.'

'Marjorie!' Taite exclaimed, looking horrified. 'What an awful thing to say! I hope I don't need to remind you that you're not officially on the council and so please do keep those opinions to yourself! You don't need to poison our minds as well as yours, you know.' She muttered the last bit to herself.

Marjorie bristled at her words, but said nothing. There was a tense silence, punctured only by the crunching sounds of Taite and her grapes.

'We could always -' Faye began, but she was cut off by Marjorie.

'No.'

Faye looked put out. 'But -'

'No.'

The blonde appealed to her sister. 'Taite, can't we just -'

'I'm sorry, Faye dear. I know it's annoying but there's simply nothing we can do about it. What has happened has happened, and I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about it in good conscience.'

'But Taite!'

Taite looked slightly undecided. 'Faye I know what you're thinking and it's just not acceptable. Don't you remember the last time we interfered ...'

'Yes, I do!' Faye cried, standing up so that she towered over the brunette. 'The Wizarding World gained a hero, and their tormentor was rendered temporarily incapacitated! It was a good outcome!'

'Now Faye, don't be hasty.' Taite chastised. 'A poor boy was also subjected to a childhood of misery and neglect and the Wizarding World used it as an opportunity to deny any chance of the Dark Lord returning. Not to mention all the lives that have been lost.'

'But think of all the lives that have been saved -'

'I just don't know, Faye.'

'Please, Taite.'

There was a pregnant pause and the air around them - for indeed it was as though they were all standing in mid-air, and the couch had disappeared - seemed to still while Taite considered her sister's request. The fate of the Wizarding World, very literally, rested on the outcome of her decision.

Taite glanced undecidedly at her sister's wide-eyed look and seemed to deflate. 'Well fine, if you really think it's best.' She murmured heavily.

Faye squealed and jumped up and down, clapping her hands. 'Thank you, Taite! Thank you! I'll go do it now!'

And with that she ran off into the distance, fading into white.

Marjorie glared at Taite reproachfully. 'You shouldn't let her have her way like that, you know.' She sniffed. 'She's so spoilt -'

'Now, now, none of that, thank you.' Taite said curtly, cutting her off. 'If you really must know I had planned it all along. Hermione Granger was supposed to survive the chase, I saw it written in The Book just this morning. Why she didn't, I don't know ...' She trailed off, looking worried.

Marjorie, meanwhile, had frowned. 'But, the last time events didn't follow The Book someone had been -'

'Tampering, yes.' Taite said heavily. 'And we both remember the outcome of that, don't we?'

It didn't need to be said.

Meanwhile, three minutes ago ...

She jumped.

There was a roar of fury from the werewolf above, but it was soon covered by the deafening rush of wind through her ears. The girl's body wracked with cold and discomfort in the seconds leading up to the impact.

Then, with a shrill whistling and the strange sound of wood scraping on wood, it was over.

The ground at the bottom of the precipice remained untouched, and Hermione Granger was gone.

Reviews are MUCH APPRECIATED to give me lots of feedback and constructive criticism and all that lovely stuff so please, please - if you've taken the time to read this, then I'm sure you won't really mind three seconds more to leave your thoughts :)

Riley Erin :)