Author's Note: It's been so long since I've posted here – in fact I think I was only about fourteen the last time I updated one of my stories! I do not recommend reading them if you are new to my work. I will fully edit my earlier pieces before continuing with them. I hope this story is received well by some of you – it's definitely aimed to be a little dark and hopefully suspense-ridden as the chapters move forward. …I guess you'll see for yourselves :-)

Summary: Hermione finds her eighteen year old self back in time in her eleven year old body. How will she deal with being at war one day then being a first year again the next?! What can she change? What can she prevent? More importantly, what dangers lie within her new world? With knowledge, power and an attitude to boot, Hermione sets out to prevent a war, but may end up carving a warpath of her own.


Killing Time
Chapter One

Hermione Granger was annoyed. Very annoyed. In fact, "very annoyed" was probably still an abominable understatement. It all started on August 31, 1998. Hermione, along with her two best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, had spent the majority of what should have been her seventh year searching for and destroying the horcruxes of Lord Voldemort. The year had also been littered with sparse Order of the Phoenix meetings run by either Kingsley Shacklebolt or Minerva McGonagall which focused on repeated reviews of Albus Dumbledore's Pensieve of memories, research into methods of horcrux destruction (Dumbledore's memories had proven the sword of Gryffindor to be a reliable method but Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody was adamant on finding alternative means just in case), months of reckless yet diligent plans for breaking into high security locations such as the Goblin-run Gringott's Wizarding Bank and the Death Eater-run Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and research into mind-magics such as Occlumency and Legilimency. Add in persistent efforts of Order recruitment plus defensive spell, memory charm and potion training and you have enough stress to turn the most collected person into a ticking time bomb.

It had been agreed upon unanimously that all Order members should undertake training in Occlumency – especially those privy to information concerning the knowledge of horcruxes and double-agents in the Order. Moody had proven to be a competent trainer in mind defence – which was unsurprising really, considering the lengths of self-protection he'd gone to in his lifetime.

One of the Order's most useful recruitments had been an Unspeakable from the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries, Selwin Rayburn. Selwin Rayburn was a young wizard, perhaps half a decade older than Hermione, with a knack for invention, curse disposition and unravelling clues. He was a half-blood who was strongly – though quietly –opposed to Voldemort. After the destruction of all of the Ministry's Time-Turners in 1996, Rayburn had been assigned with developing new means of time-travel. He was certain that some of his fellow Unspeakables had been assigned the easier task of reconstructing the old Time-Turners – of course he'd never ask and they'd never tell. Rayburn liked that his talents for invention had been recognised for such an important project and he rose happily to the challenge. It was a testament to Rayburn's loyalty to the Order and his opposition against Voldemort that he brought his finished project to an Order meeting before alerting his superiors of his project's completion. This was August 1998, one week before the golden trio and select Order of the Phoenix members were to break into Hogwarts for the second to last horcrux – before finishing of the final one, Voldemort's giant snake Nagini. Severus Snape, the current Hogwarts headmaster and double-agent against Voldemort, was aiding their entry as best he could and would call his 'master' to the school once Nagini was the only horcrux left. Snape had been proven innocent by Dumbledore's memories. The old coot had ordered his colleague to kill him! Hermione had always believed Dumbledore to be one of the greatest wizards of all time, but that was a low hit to Snape. Sure, the man was a greasy git, but no one should have to murder their only mentor in life. Anyway, it was partly Snape's fault for taking the unbreakable vow with Narcissa Malfoy.

Back to August 1998 – most of the Order members had been seated around the circular table saved for Order meetings. Selwin Rayburn was discussing his finished project which looked like your everyday Time-Turner, despite being slightly larger in size. Rayburn explained that if his co-ordinates and time-plane space measurements were correct, each spin of the Time-Turner should take the user's soul back a month – straight back into their past self's body which eliminated the need to not be seen. All of the Order members present eyed the Time-Turner with mixed looks of wonder, interest, suspicion and desire. They'd lost many lives over the past months – over the past years even. Hermione was gazing at the Time-Turner with a hungry sort of curiosity. Imagine the research she could undertake with a few more months of time up her sleeve. Imagine knowing where all the horcruxes were and how to destroy them without having to search through ungodly locations. Imagine preventing the deaths that had plagued the Order relentlessly since Dumbledore's passing…

"–still needs a final examination," the clear voice of Selwin Rayburn had broken though Hermione's reverie. "I figured this could be useful – we're always needing more time." Rayburn looked around the table of gathered Order members, his lip quirking and his eyes dancing with pride.

"Well done, Selwin. This could prove to be our most useful device to date," Kingsley Shacklebolt said as he placed a hand on Rayburn's shoulder.

"This is a breakthrough," Moody's magical eye span wildly as he pondered the possibilities, "We can be a constant step ahead of Voldemort!"

There were murmurs of agreement and praise all throughout the room. Hermione saw Harry jump up and shake Rayburn's hand, shortly followed by Ron. Rayburn was grinning fully now, his brown hair had fallen across the top of his eyes as he bent to open the case he'd brought the Time-Turner in with. Hermione had watched silently as he put the Time-Turner in the case and put the case in a cabinet to the left of the room, still talking animatedly with Harry and Ron as he did.

She had decided then and there. That night she was going to take a closer look at that device.


True to her thought, Hermione had found herself alone at midnight, back in the Order meeting room. She glanced around the wide space and crept through the moonlight streaming through the large window in the corner. She knelt down in front of the cabinet she'd seen Rayburn put the Time-Turner case in and tapped her wand against the lock. A silver spark emitted from her wand, confirming the use of a magical locking spell. Selwin was an Unspeakable so the odds of him using a simple Colloportus were slim. Luckily, Hermione had spent a huge deal of time researching magical locks and curses when they'd come across Slytherin's locket all those months ago. Never one to leave any rock uncovered, Hermione tested 'Alohomora' first just to be thorough. Of course it didn't work, but she hadn't expected it to. Her next move was a more complicated spell that involved her closing her eyes with her wand pressed against the lock. She began to whisper a string of Latin words in the exact tone equal to the resonation of her wand, producing magic of the correct vibration, equal to the vibration of the atoms within the metal lock, in order to –

Click!

Hermione's eyes flew open as she heard the lock click open and fall to the floor. That had been quicker than she'd expected. Smirking a little, she opened the cabinet and pulled out the Time-Turner case. She placed it quietly on the floor beside her and opened it. The large Time-Turner glimmered softly in the pale light and Hermione found herself stroking its side. The device thrummed beneath her fingers, begging her to test it out. She bit her lip – she hadn't exactly planned what she'd do once she had the Time-Turner. Shrugging slightly she pulled it up, out of the case and gently placed the chain around her neck. A strong sense of déjà vuovercame her as she remembered her third year of Hogwarts. This Time-Turner was much heavier than the one her younger self had used though. She hummed quietly and held the device between her fingers. One turn was equal to one month. If she turned it once she could save her childhood muggle neighbours from being killed by the Death Eaters who had been searching for her. If she turned it twice she could stop Harry getting hurt from using the wrong spell on the fourth horcrux. If she turned it three times she could save Arthur from being tortured for information at the Ministry of Magic…

After a few minutes of thought, clenched fists, scowling, and with a steely glint in her eyes, Hermione glared at the Time-Turner and began to rotate it.

Seven times…

Suddenly the familiar sensation of flying backwards very fast took Hermione, only instead of feeling her stomach lurch, she … couldn't feel her stomach at all. Of course, her body wasn't coming with her this time.


After an especially long time, Hermione felt something slam into her – or maybe she was slammed into it. She fell to her knees with a gasp. Her eyes were pressed shut as her hands clawed at the carpet beneath her fingers. She was breathing heavily, trying to get her heart to slow down and her mind was racing faster than a Firebolt. Where was she? What was going on? Did the Time-Turner work? Was this gigantic headache a sign that her head was going to fall off?

A groan escaped her lips as she took a shuddering breath. After what seemed like an eternity, she cracked open her eyes and squinted at her surroundings. Soft pale carpet, single, neatly made bed with a thick quilt, tall mirror in the corner, open trunk a few feet away…

This was her bedroom…

This hadn't been her bedroom since she'd been seventeen – almost two years ago!

With a gasp Hermione sat up and opened her eyes fully.

Big mistake.

The room swam around her, blurring everything into a storming whirlpool of colour. She clutched at her head, pressing her eyelids together once again as she silently prayed for the room to stop spinning. Fighting down waves of nausea, Hermione once again cracked open her eyes. This time she kept the palms of her hands pressed tightly to her forehead to allow their coolness to start fighting off her throbbing headache. This was definitely her bedroom.

Looking up, out of the window, she guessed from the moon that it was past midnight here – which made sense considering that was when she'd used the Time-Turner back in the present day … or in future… It was enough to double her headache just thinking about it.

But why was she here? Seven months in the past should have found her either in a tent with Harry and Ron or in one of the Order's safe houses.

Her room looked different to how she remembered it somehow. Of course, the biggest difference was probably the fact that she was seeing everything with her eyes all squinted this time. As she slid gently towards her bed she concluded that it was definitely higher up than she remembered. She sighed, realising she was going to have to remove her hands from her forehead to push herself up off the floor. Her bones were tingling slightly as she moved her arms away from her face and up onto the bed so as to pull herself up. Her arms looked thinner – which was saying something considering the malnourished look she'd been used to sporting during the war. At that moment she didn't look malnourished so much as she looked … smaller. Her hands were definitely smaller. What in Merlin's name was going on?

Finally she built up the courage to pull herself onto her bed. It took all her strength and she fell weakly against the quilt cover.

This would not do.

She rolled onto her side and blinked as the calendar next to her bed came in and out of focus. A series of red 'X's marked the entire month it was open to. The sight was familiar to her and she racked her brain trying to place the familiarity. After a few moments of scrutiny, she felt her stomach sink and her eyes widen of their own accord.

The entire month of August had been marked off with thirty-one red 'X's. She hadn't done this since the month prior to her first year at Hogwarts.

Breathing heavily, Hermione sat up slowly on her bed, staring wide-eyed at the calendar.

The top corner read 1991.

1991.

"No," she whispered, "no."

Seven turns equalled seven months, not seven years. Selwin had said!

… Selwin had said the Time-Turner needed a final examination.

There was one thing she had to do – one thing she needed to do – to be certain she wasn't still in 1998.

Swallowing nervously, she stood shakily to her feet – ignoring how close she was to the ground – and moved slowly towards her mirror. Her head was pounding but she could barely feel it now. A blanket of shock was smothering her. Before she could even see herself clearly in the mirror, she knew something was wrong. She was so short. She was so tiny. She continued to the mirror until she was planted right in front of it.

Holy –

Mother –

Of Merlin.

She was eleven.

Her small body was clothed in her pale nightgown; her arms were small and thin. Her hair was a wild bushy mess, and if she opened her mouth wide enough, she could see those long forgotten and hated buckteeth. Her brown eyes were wide and on the verge of tears, but if she looked close enough she could see herself behind those eyes – her eighteen year old self. This comforted her slightly, though it was an odd sight. Her body so young, and her eyes so old having seen too much. She finally pulled herself away from her reflection and let her eyes wash over the rest of her room. A tall bookcase was overflowing with children's books, old classic fiction and non-fiction, poetry, advanced school texts, and several trivial awards for things like her school's 1989 Spelling Bee. Her desk in the corner had a photo of her with her mum and dad and an early birthday card from a relative in Glasgow. It was her birthday in a couple weeks. How old would she be? Nineteen or twelve?

Hermione scoffed and tore her eyes away from her childhood belongings. Her gaze landed instead upon the trunk open on her floor. She moved and sat down beside it, letting her eyes scan over her things. A stack of text books was set neatly in the trunk while one lay open on the floor next to it. She'd obviously been re-reading it before starting at Hogwarts – Hermione remembered not being able to sleep that night. All of her clothes and Hogwarts robes were folded neatly in her trunk along with some other personal belongings. A few muggle books she cherished were stacked to one side and, of course, her wand was here. Hermione immediately drew towards her familiar and loved friend before snatching her hand back. Could she use magic here? Did she still have the trace? Frowning slightly, Hermione gingerly took the wand out of her trunk and placed it on the bed. She'd keep it in her pocket until she could use it on the Hogwarts Express. Sighing tiredly, she rubbed her forehead; glad her headache had almost disappeared.

She was eleven.

Seven years of her life was gone!

Hermione Granger was annoyed. Very annoyed. In fact, "very annoyed" was probably still an abominable understatement. This was all Rayburn's fault. She scowled, knowing that it was really her own fault.

"Stupid Hermione," she muttered.

She closed her trunk and flopped back onto the bed. She'd find a way back – or forward. She was smart, she could find a way. She'd have the whole Hogwarts library at her disposal soon. She felt a small twinge at the thought of seeing Hogwarts in all of its former glory. She'd see Dumbledore again. What would happen if she never went forward to her time?

I suppose I'd have a real advantage, she thought to herself. She would. She'd know exactly what was going to happen – exactly what to prevent. Maybe she should stick around for a little while? A selfish part of her realised that she almost didn't want to be back in 1998 where Voldemort was dominating and where everyone had lost so much. It would really benefit everyone if she stayed here a while and tried to fix everything before it got so messed up. It was the right thing to do.

Wasn't it?

She gazed forlornly out of her window, wondering if this was all actually just a nightmare. The first signs of sunrise were clawing their way up from the horizon. Folding her thoughts back into her mind's orderly files, she turned away from the window and set her old alarm clock for nine o'clock. She'd get three and a half hours sleep – which was actually plenty for her in the future, but probably not enough for her eleven year old body – before getting ready to make it to Kings Cross half an hour before the train left. She had no idea how she was going to react to seeing her or her friends in their younger bodies – or how she was going to react to seeing anyone in their younger bodies for that matter.

But she'd soon find out.

With that foreboding thought, she climbed under the covers and fell asleep moments after her head hit the pillow.


Author's Note: When it fits smoothly into the story, or when the right characters and situations are introduced, I think I may switch the point of view around so that you can experience life inside another head while reading – instead of just Hermione's.

I'm posting this on August 31, at midnight – just as it turns into September 1! Thought I'd make a parallel to the story, haha. We're all back to Hogwarts tomorrow too, right?

Thanks for reading :-)