So this is a story that have been begging me to be written since I read my first (well written) time travel/marauder fanfiction. I couldn't help myself, I had to get this out. To all of you that follow me as an author and has been waiting for me to update my other stories, the wait is finally over. Expect to see some updates by this weekend. I have already started working on all of the stories' next chapters. Hopefully, if everything goes to plan everything will be updated a chapter by this Sunday. Fingers crossed.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters or names affiliated with the name. All rights reserved for J.K. Rowling and all of her magnificence. Any other characters and names are mine.
Something is wrong. Something had to have gone wrong.
It didn't make any sense. None of it made any sense. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Everyone she knew and loved was not supposed to die. In the end there was supposed to be a victor. Everyone was not suppose to die and leave her here all alone in the wake of deaths.
Harry was supposed to be here.
Harry was supposed to win and Voldemort would die. The Order, or what was left of it, was supposed to gather up all the death eaters and send them to Azkaban. Then she was supposed to jump and run into Harry's arms where he would kiss her. Kiss her so thoroughly that she would forget what had occurred during that whole year they were on the run. And then they would date before they would eventually marry, and live happily ever after with their children.
Oh, Harry.
They had only just confessed their love for one another. It took them seven years, but they finally did it. There wasn't any Ginny, or Cho, or Ron, seeing as he left them high and dry only to be caught and killed by Death Eaters. It was nothing left in their way. And everything progressed as it should have been.
I stared unseeingly down at the locket on the table. Ron left days ago. All this fuss, I mused, over a silly little chain. I chuckled morbidly.
"What?" I heard Harry ask.
Shit, I must have been chuckling aloud. Great, now he thinks you've lost it.
"Nothing," I shook my head. "I'm just think about how we got here. How everything has completely gone to shit." I spat.
My mood hadn't been the best lately. My ever running sense of optimism had long gone run out. And as hungry and tired and frustrated as I was, nothing could ever make me leave Harry alone. Nothing.
But Harry didn't let it all get to him. Or at the very least, he didn't let it show. He's kept the radio off since Ron left. He didn't want to hear how many more people dying. Ron brought up that fact when he stormed away from us and Harry has yet to turn the radio back on. Just thinking about everything Ron said and did made me boil all over again. How could he just leave us? Leave Harry.
My attention was pulled from my thoughts by an exaggerated gasp. I turn to look Harry. His eyes are tired but they have yet to lose that emerald shine. His hair is a mess, although that's not anything new, and the beginnings of hair are making their way around his jawline.
"Did Hermione Granger just curse?" Harry gasps mockingly. I couldn't fight the smile that made its way to my lips.
"Oh shut up, Potter. You have said a lot worse." I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah. I have." He agreed. He gets up from where he sat on the bed and sat beside me near the makeshift workbench. "But I don't think everything has gone to complete shit. Not yet."
I look at him with awe. How he found a way to remain positive and keep some shred of hope astounds me. That, right there, is why he is who he is. That's what makes him so amazing. That is exactly why I lo-
I feel my cheeks instantly heat at my thoughts. They were heading in dangerous territory. I have been fighting it down for a long while. But being out here all alone has made it harder to avoid. He's constantly near me and because there is not much space to move round, we're constantly touching and bumping into each other. I doubt he notices, but my body definitely does. And it's been making it that much harder to deny.
"Why Ms. Granger, what are you thinking of?" I pointedly ignored Harry's gaze. I could practically hear that smirk in his voice. Just seeing that mischievous playful tint in his eyes would make me turn even redder.
I never answered him. I kept my gaze firmly on the locket and went back to studying it.
But his gaze never left me. I could still feel them on me. The hair at the nape of my neck raised and my skin prickled.
I looked up and made eye contact. And the air seemed to charge with electricity. A shocking current ran down my spine as his eyes stared at me with an intensity I had never seen anyone look at anybody, and especially not me. My throat tightened and I found it harder to breathe.
"What?" I asked, cringing at how breathless I sound.
His eyes darkened a shade. And I couldn't decide if that was my new favorite color or not.
"I've never really seen you blush before. I've seen you do many things. But never have I ever seen you blush. It's...really beautiful."
I swallowed tightly. My eyes widened at his words. Beautiful? Me? I know I have come a long way from the way I looked as a child, but I still wouldn't go so far as to call myself beautiful. I licked my lips and watched as his eyes flickered down to them, darkening further.
"I mean, you've always been beautiful. You were the first girl I ever really paid any attention to. You came out of nowhere really. Big curls that seemed to have a life of their own. And large wide smile and sparkling coffee colored eyes. You've always been beautiful Hermione." He spoke still looking that at my lips.
Instantly I snorted.
"Yeah right. You're clearly dehydrated." I rolled my eyes trying to ignore the feeling his words gave me.
He wasn't in the right mind right now. He wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe he's just missing Ginny and he thinks that I could replace her. I mentally smack myself for thinking that way. Harry isn't like that. And even if he was. Ginny and I are on two completely different levels.
"I'm not dehydrated Hermione."
"Well maybe you're exhausted."
"I'm not exhausted either." He snapped. I looked wide eyed towards him. Harry rarely used that tone of his and he's never used it towards me. I bit my lip unsure of what was happening.
He sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I just hate when you talk about yourself as if you're unattractive. You are beautiful. More than. So what if not everyone notices, I do."
He moved closer to me until our thighs felt as if they had been glued together. Unconsciously our heads had been slowly moving closer and closer together. I could feel his cool breath on my face.
"Harry, what are we doing?" I whispered. I had to know. I couldn't bear the thought that he'd regret as soon as it was over. I wasn't strong enough.
"What I should have done a long time ago." He whispered, smiling slightly before colliding his lips on mine.
He told me he loved me that night. I didn't say it until the next day when I woke in his arms and he smiled my favorite smile down at me. He hadn't forgotten or regretted that night. He remembered it, in perfect detail. And just like that, I was able to see a lot clearer.
I touched the ring that hung on the chain around my neck. My eyes watered.
"It's not an engagement ring," he smiled shyly. "Not yet. So don't put it on. I want to do that. But now isn't the right time, not when we're both too afraid we won't make it to see another day. No, I'm going to do it right. I will propose to you the right way, the perfect way. Just the way you deserve."
I was too choked up to do anything but smile and tear up. He wiped the tears away from my face.
"Wear it on this chain around your neck. So nothing happens to it." He whispered in my ear as I lifted my hair so he could put it on me.
"Sirius told me it was my mother's and my grandmother's before that. My father somehow knew his last days were approaching and snuck his and my mom's rings back into the Potter vaults. Sirius knew before even I did that one day I would take my head out of my arse and see the beautiful witch in front of me."
He promised me that he would live. That he would make it and that we could finally start our lives together. Away from it all and be just Harry and Hermione.
But it didn't happen that way. One by one the Weasleys fell. First Fred, then George, who killed himself out of grief. Then Ginny, and then Molly. Arthur had died when his back was turn as he watched his wife and children fall. Then it was Remus and Tonks. Tonks was still pregnant with a little boy they were going to name after her father. Teddy. She could still see Tonks' swollen stomach ready to pop any day now, and her lifeless body beside her husband's.
Moody was next to go actually. After ruthlessly avenging his fallen fellow Order members and taking down a grand total of nine death eaters, her was slain by Voldemort himself. Left and right death eaters and classmates and professors she had known her entire life dying right before her eyes.
And not before long Voldemort erected a forcefield around he and Harry. He and Voldemort battled furiously. Not many were left. I dodged and threw curses and shields, but in the end it was useless.
When there curses collided it created an explosion large enough to knock over everyone in the field. It threw back several yards where I hit my head on a rock. I didn't wake up until hours later. It was nightfall and bodies still laid haphazardly on the ground. There weren't many left. It turns out that when the aurors turned up to gather the deatheaters, all of them were dead, even those that had not been at the battle. None of the deatheaters knew that when given Voldemort's mark, he linked their magical core to his. Which allow him to draw magic from their core, weakening them and strengthening himself. So when he officially died and his magical core was depleted, so was theirs. And sadly many sixth and seventh years Slytherins were apart of that huge massacre.
But no one dared to touch Harry. I hunched over his body cradling him close to me. I brushed his hair back that had grown shabby and wild, similar to Sirius', and held him tightly to my body. My body was wracked with sobs and I clawed at anyone that came near us.
"Harry, baby. I'm here. It's okay. It's going to be okay. I love you Harry. I love you so much. Baby, I have you. You don't have to be afraid anymore. It's over it's all over. You did it."
But he didn't. It didn't work. It was supposed to work. But it didn't.
Something is wrong. Something had to have gone wrong.
"You are absolutely right Ms. Granger."
I whirled around at the voice with my wand drawn. My eyes flickered around Dumbledore's office frantically at the sudden intrusion.
I ran hear after they forced me away from Harry's body. I have been here ever since. No one ever visits the castle. Not since the battle.
"It is only I Ms. Granger." I gasped again at the voice and whirled around to see-
"Professor Dumbledore?" My voice was raspy from the no use. His painting sat on the floor, yet to have been hung. He wasn't there before.
He nodded. "I apologize for not coming sooner. I was with the other portraits. I had always wondered exactly how these portraits worked. I knew that a portion of the magical core was needed to make them sentient, but I had no idea it was like this."
His voice was still melodious and soft. But he didn't look the way I remembered him. He wasn't sick or tired or exhausted. He looked, younger actually. Younger and happier. Who ever had the painting commissioned for him must have done long ago.
"Professor Dumbledore..." I drifted off staring at him unbelievingly. All the anger that I had built up regarding him had went away momentarily. I was just relieved to see someone that I used to know.
His eyes turned sad. "My child, you can not let yourself waste away like this."
And the anger returned. What did he expect me to look like. I knew I was a horrid sight. Dried blood was caked on my dirty and torn clothes. Scratches and cuts scabbed over and started the process of scarring. My hair—don't even get me started on that. My eyes were probably dreadfully red and puffy. I was sitting on the floor surrounding by a sea of books. I was looking for something—anything that could help me figure out what went wrong.
"I couldn't help but overhear you mumbling something to yourself. 'Something went wrong'. Am I correct?" He didn't wait for me to answer before he stood up and walked out of the painting. I watched as he moved through the empty canvases that were in the room. I had always wondered why he kept empty canvases in his office.
"Aha. Right over here Ms. Granger." He was staring at a wall. He urged me forward when he saw my look. I sighed before hefting myself off the floor. I could hear bones cracking but ignored them and walked over to the wall that Dumbledore stared at.
"If you could just feel for a groove along the wall and then push you shall understand."
I looked at him confused, but I didn't have it any me to argue or question him. I didn't have much left in me. I felt along the wall slowly feeling for the groove in the wall. He continued to talk.
"When the wall moves aside there will be a few books in there. Get the blue book with the silver trim. In there I marked a page."
When I felt the groove I pushed into it just as Dumbledore instructed. I heard a slight whoosh-ing sound and the wall slid over just like he said. There were only a few books in there and I quickly found the blue book with the silver trim that Dumbledore described.
I opened it to the page Dumbledore had marked. There were small photographs in rows of people. A yearbook.
"I don't understand."
"Look back down at the page and tell me if you notice anything odd about one of the names."
I huffed, fed up with Dumbledore's games. Why does he have to always be so cryptic. His riddles were really getting old. Whatever happened to just telling something that you wanted them to know? He's played these games for years. He played them with Harry and I don't have the energy to put up with his bullsh—
I gasp. "Anastasia Romanov?" I looked to Dumbledore confused. "But I thought..."
"So did I, Ms. Granger. As did I. And I didn't discover this until just recently. However I did discover that the Romanovs come from a long line of squibs. I couldn't get much farther than that. I suspect the murders of the Romanovs must have been too much for her to handle, and that since little Anastasia Romanov was a...muggleborn, let's say, her magic manifested. It must have caused her magic to go haywire. It's all a theory really, and I thought I was only imagining something. Over there, check the green book with the gold trimmings." He pointed back to the hole in the wall.
I rushed to grab the next book. I quickly turned to the page he marked. It was a passage this time.
In ancient Greek Mythology the Moirai, otherwise known as the Fates in English, controlled the threads of Destiny. Clotho, Lacehesis, and Atropos were the three metaphorical representations of destiny to determine the life and fate of every mortal and God. Many believe them to be harsh and blunt, unforgiving and cruel. But such is all speculation. No one has ever seen the Fates as they keep themselves hidden from the eyes of the mortals and Gods.
In Albania there is a legend about the Fates that describe the three woman as fair beautiful women. The tales says that the woman live in a tower high enough to touch the sky and an unending amount of rooms. Every room contains a line of threads, interconnected and woven as people create ties and establish relationships. But each thread is said to be tied to a focal point in the tower: the yarn of time. The yarn is large ball of threads that control time and space. When someone upsets Fates design the thread loosens from the thread of time and misfortune larger than can be imagined befalls that thread and every thread spun of it. The only way for the error to be corrected is for the Fates to unwind the tangles and disruptions in the thread by restoring the original timeline.
Misfortune larger than one could imagine.
"Are they connected? I don't understand? Just what are you trying to tell me?" I sighed to Dumbledore placing both books back into the nook in the wall.
"Ms. Granger, what misfortune could be larger than witnessing the murder and death of everyone you ever loved?" His voice was soft but the words still cut and stung.
"So you think that...what? Anastasia Romanov somehow disrupted the Fates design and caused her entire family to die and the Fates attempted to fix this mistake by sending her sending her twenty years into the future as her younger counterpart?"
"The year 1938 is when I took my first post as the Transfiguration professor. That could explain why I was so distracted and didn't notice this. However, I looked through Pomfrey's records during that year and the girl had no recollection of her past life. All she appeared out of nowhere with no family and only knew her name. No one recognized the name since her family was believed to be muggles. But Anastasia graduated married and eventually did have children."
"'...befalls that thread and ever thread spun of it.' You believe that I am a descendant of Anastasia Romanov." I finally understood. "Well that is not possible since I am muggleborn. Neither of my parents are magical nor any of their parents. I studied my family tree on both sides. Trust me, there is no one magical there."
"Ah, yes. Which is why I never suspected it to be you. Therefore I figured I was only seeing something where there was nothing. It did not occur to me until only a few moments ago. Do you recall a moment ago when you were muttering that something was wrong? You feel it in your body that something just isn't right. You know that everything was not supposed to end this way. You do. You lost everyone you loved as well, similar to Ms. Romanov."
I thought for a minute. Of course there were similarities. But if that were the case then I am related to every other person who has lost all of their family members to death. And I know for sure that is simply not possible.
"Ms. Granger I know it may be hard for you to understand..."
"Something still just doesn't add up to your theory, professor. Let's say that I am Anastasia's heir or descendant, and she messed with the fates in some way. The passage said the Fates would attempt to restore the original timeline and detangle the thread. I figure you believe that Anastasia's 'rebirth' would be the Fates idea of restoring the timeline, then the timeline would be corrected. Then why did I still end up like this. All alone. I didn't do anything wrong, at least I don't think so."
"Yes. You are correct, but just because you do not remember messing with the timeline and fate does not mean that you did not. You could have done it by accident, or perhaps someone did it for you. Take out the smallest black book in there. The pages are raggedy and most are torn. Sirius brought it to me when he found it in Grimmauld Place in his brother's old room. He believes it to be Regulus' diary."
I grabbed the book and flipped through it. Most of the pages were torn or had been ripped out. The remaining pages were water stained and the ink ran making the words impossible to read.
"You can't read any of this." I gritted my teeth.
"Patience Ms. Granger. Turn to the last page and repeat after me. Now say, Librus Revelarium."
I repeated the words and the book transformed. The pages were now clean and new. The penmanship was neat and now more easily read. I gasp at the words at that were revealed.
Rest In Heavenly Peace
Hermione Tsarina Black
Beloved Daughter
Mommy and Daddy would never forget you
August 19, 1980
"I wasn't aware Regulus had a child.." My eyes couldn't believe the words.
"Neither did anyone else. Sirius came to me with the information and asked if I could find out more about it. He died before I could tell he much more. All I was ever able to discover was that she died not long after she was born. Her mother had just passed not long after her birth.. I suspect that this was the motivation that Regulus needed to defect."
"You think that I am her." I accused him. He nodded.
"I do. I don't think that she was supposed to die then. And perhaps due to the Fates interruption you were reborn as Hermione Granger rather than Hermione Black. Had you been born how you were originally intended to, perhaps none of this would have ended this way."
I gently shut the book and put that back as well before closing the nook in the wall. I didn't want to think anymore. My brain hurt and my heart hurt and I didn't understand why he was telling me all of this now.
It was done. It was all over. It ended this way anyway and now there was nothing that I could do about it. Did he expect me to fix it? Of course he did. He's Albus Dumbledore and he always have something up his sleeves. He couldn't help himself.
"Ms. Granger I know that this all may be very hard for you, but—"
"No. You don't. You don't know anything. You think you do and you wait until it's the most opportune moment for you to reveal it, but you just don't get it. Do you? It's over. They're gone. They're all gone and I am here. There is nothing that I can do about that now. And I am tired." I sob out exhausted feeling everything finally crashing down on me. "I'm just so tired. So please, just leave me alone. I can't do anything about what happened no matter how much I try or read through these books." I gestured towards the books that lay scattered on the floor at my feet.
"I'm sorry. But I'm just not capable of fighting anymore. I don't have anymore left in me."
He was thoughtful for a moment.
"I'm sorry that you feel that way." He said and walked slowly back to his original painting. And I thought that he was finally going to leave me alone. But he stopped before completely leaving his office.
"I still believe that you have much more fight in you left. You're special Hermione. You have always been, right from the very beginning. Now it's just up to you to remember that."
And then he left. Left me back in this silence that was uncomfortable. The silence was deafening and I screamed. I screamed out the anguish and anger and all the pain I was feeling. I screamed out all of the hurt and frustration. I screamed for my parents who were killed on the plane to Australia in a plane crash. I screamed for all of the Weasleys and Remus and Tonks and Sirius. I screamed for poor little Teddy Lupin who never got to grace the world with his presence. And I screamed for Harry. I screamed for him not keeping his promise and surviving.
I screamed until my throat was raw and my voice disappeared. Tears streamed down my face and I fought to catch my breath. I kicked at the books at my foot and slumped against the wall. I stared blankly at the spot in the wall where the invisible nook sat. Where behind the walls hid three books that further hid secrets. Secrets that could possible help end all of the pain that I was feeling.
What misfortune could be larger than witnessing the murder and death of everyone you ever loved?
I still believe that you have much more fight in you left
You feel it in your body that something just isn't right.
Something is wrong. Something had to have gone wrong.
Something is wrong.
Something is wrong.
Something is wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.
And I screamed out again once more with everything that I had in me. And this time when I screamed I felt a new lightness that wasn't there before. A rush a strength and lightness all at the same time. The sensation of being lifted off the ground filled my body and darkness soon covered every inch of my vision.
What did you think about it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think by leaving me a small review. I already completed the second chapter but I just wanted to know what you think about it first.