If there was one thing that Ron Weasley was good at, it was making Hermione frustrated. He may have been funny, but he was immature, insensitive, and often completely oblivious. Unfortunately, when Hermione agreed to marry him, she thought that he would one day grow out of these things. She hoped that maturity would come with age and eventually, with time, the deep disparity between their characters would lessen. They would stop bickering and start connecting. She would no longer lie awake at night feeling unfulfilled and ashamed.
She was wrong.
Nothing changed.
Looking back now, she wasn't sure why she expected Ron to become what she had always needed. She can barely understand why she persisted with him for so long when she knew that deep down he wasn't good enough. And following a series of luckless relationships with other people after their divorce, she was beginning to realize that nobody was good enough.
Well, perhaps with one exception.
She was rounding thirty when she finally had an epiphany.
There was just no reason for her to be wasting any more of her precious time with those that were beneath her. It was the very definition of insanity to continue pursuing relationships that she knew would end right from the start.
So Hermione went searching for something from her past that no-one else knew she had held onto. Buried deep in the pocket of her old school robes, locked away in a trunk that she kept in the attic, was her Time Turner.
Her fingers traced slowly over the long forgotten metal edges as she reminisced about her Hogwarts days. Long before her lacklustre life with Ron, before the battle with Voldemort, before any of the disappointment or pain of her adult life… it was a time when she was bright-eyed, ambitious and fearless.
Oh how she missed that Hermione. How she longed to recapture that eager spark held by her younger self, to embrace her unquestioning hunger for experience.
Taking in the deepest breath her lungs would allow - Hermione spun the Time Turner. And again. And again. And again.
Fourteen years into the past.
Sixteen-year-old Hermione sat alone in the library late on a Saturday night. She had finished her homework, and even though she was tired, she didn't feel much like going to bed yet. She'd decided to scour the stacks for something intellectually stimulating and came across a few interesting runic volumes to flip through. She was almost finished with the first of her selections when she felt a pair of eyes on her. Turning in place, she looked around for the source.
She only caught a glimpse of long brown hair before the figure disappeared back into the stacks.
"Hello?" Hermione called out to the dark library.
Something in her stomach stirred.
Quiet footsteps approached on her left.
"Who's there?" She tried again, becoming a little apprehensive.
Stepping gracefully out of the shadows, the person finally came into view. Hermione thought her heart might stop at the sight.
"What on earth…"
"Hey kid." Thirty-year-old Hermione raised an eyebrow as she moved closer to her younger self. "What're you reading?"
"You… you can't… I can't… why are you…" Young Hermione stammered.
"I can. I am. It's fine." The woman stated calmly. "You don't have to get all worked up about it. The universe isn't going to implode. I promise."
Despite the reassurance, Hermione's mouth continued to hang open at the sight before her.
She almost wondered for a moment if she'd dozed off whilst reading and was simply dreaming about this bizarre scenario. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd fallen asleep pouring over a library book.
But then she spoke again. "Listen – you're a smart kid. You know that and I know that. Obviously." She smirked. "So I'm going to be up front about this – as you've probably guessed, I'm you approximately fourteen years from now. I made some, let's just say unwise decisions, and upon acknowledging my mistakes, I've travelled back in time to correct them."
Hermione thought on that for a moment. "What kind of decisions?" She pressed cautiously.
Future Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. "Put it this way – even if you think you're clever right now, when it comes to relationships, you're totally and utterly clueless."
Present Hermione scoffed. "Thanks a lot."
"Sorry kid but it's true." She shrugged. "Don't worry though. I'm not here to give you a lecture or anything."
"Oh? Then why are you here?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at the woman, becoming suspicious.
"Well…" Hermione stepped closer to her younger self and sat down on the edge of the desk next to her books. "I figured out that my expectations of a partner were too high. Nobody could be expected to meet them… except of course for someone who knew exactly what I wanted and just how to give it to me." She raised an eyebrow suggestively.
"What are you getting at?" The younger girl asked.
"I think you know exactly what I'm implying."
"Not really…?"
"I've come to the conclusion that the only person good enough for me is, well, me."
Young Hermione gaped in disbelief. "You can't be serious!"
"Oh I am. And I think you like the sound of it far more than you're letting on."
"I absolutely am not!"
"You can't fool me. I am ?"
Teenage Hermione blushed. "You're really insinuating that we should… fornicate with each other?"
"Precisely." The older of the two smiled broadly. "I mean, why not?"
"Why not? Why bloody not?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "Because I am you, and you are me, and the whole thing would be incredibly weird and strangely incestuous and just plain wrong!"
"Lighten up kid. This is a fucking fantastic idea and you know it."
Hermione shook her head, eyes flicking to the ground as she tried to process what was being asked of her. "I cannot – no, I will not be a part of this."
Hermione from the future laughed and grasped the chin of the panicking younger version of herself. "Shut up. Just go with it."
And with that she joined their lips together in a forceful kiss.
The initial resistance from the sixth year Hermione was short lived. She found herself melting into the embrace, completely at the mercy of the woman in front of her. Even though she knew that this was wrong on multiple levels, it somehow felt right as well. The kiss was far better than any she had ever experienced before.
It was just… perfect.
A rustle of footsteps near the entrance of the library caused them to spring apart though. It was a reminder that their privacy could be interrupted at any moment.
The older of the two smirked and leant in to whisper in her double's ear. "Restricted activity belongs in the restricted section."
Before the younger girl could resist, she was pulled up by the hand and led to the back of the library.
Once they arrived, Hermione immediately pushed her teenage-self up against the stacks and reconnected their kiss. It was hot and hard and young Hermione's cheeks were soon burning with embarrassment and excitement.
This feeling only increased when she felt hands wandering boldly over her hips, and then her ribs, until they were massaging her breasts.
She'd never been touched so intimately before. It made her squirm. She felt her body become overheated and oversensitive. She closed her eyes as searing kisses made their way onto her ears and neck.
Because no matter how surreal this was, Hermione couldn't deny the way her body was reacting. She wanted this.
On some level, she felt she had always wanted it.
Adult Hermione revelled in the familiar scent of her own hair, the curves of her young body and the satisfaction of knowing that every move she made was the right one. She grazed her teeth over soft skin, letting her lips settle for a moment on a racing pulse point.
It was the ultimate power trip and she loved every second of it.
Sure that it was welcome, she made a move to push things further.
Younger Hermione was surprised by the hand making its way up her thigh, under her skirt and ultimately slipping into the side of her underwear. She supressed a gasp at the new sensation of fingers that were not her own – or well, technically they were her own but they weren't attached to her – pressing into her in just the right ways.
A thumb traced deft circles around her clit as two fingertips dared to make their way gently inside of her.
She dug her fingernails into her older self's back as the tender touch escalated to firm thrusting at exactly the instance she craved it. She muffled quiet whimpers against a shoulder.
She knew it wouldn't take her long this time. Not with the way her future self knew her so flawlessly and could make her body respond with such ease.
She arched into every movement, her hips reaching forward and searching for all that was put on offer. Until eventually, the frantic pace became too much, the air was too thick, and breathlessly she tumbled over the edge, her thoughts completely blank and at peace.
Her heart was still thudding quickly when she felt brief kisses on her lips vying for her attention.
"I told you this was a good idea." The older Hermione gloated, a smug grin on her face.
In response the younger Hermione rolled her eyes, stubbornly not wanting to admit defeat but appreciating that she had really had no choice given her current position.
"And now for something I've always wished I could try." Future Hermione said slyly before extricating herself from the younger girl and flipping their positions.
She glanced down at the floor and pressed pointedly on her shoulders.
Her double didn't need any more instruction than that. She knelt on the floor in front of her.
Hermione lifted a leg and draped it over the girl's shoulder. Having planned this from the very start, she had worn a skirt also and skipped on the underwear. She delicately placed her hands on the back of the head in front of her hips and directed it forward.
The first lick was tentative and older Hermione shivered at the feeling. She ran her fingers through the hair in her grasp encouragingly. Then, slowly but surely, each stroke of her younger self's tongue became bolder, firmer, more intentional.
It was even better than she imagined.
Before she knew it, the rhythm picked up and she felt that familiar pressure building inside of her. All of her muscles were tight with anticipation – except for the one leg holding her up which was weak and had started to shake. She no longer had to bite her lip to contain the quiet moans because she was holding her breath, waiting to fall.
Then, unexpectedly, she felt a finger push into her and the added sensation was enough to send her spiralling.
Of course she would know just what to do. Where so many others had failed, she had succeeded. She was her after all. So she was the best.
Hermione began softly chuckling to herself as she came down. What a fantastic plan indeed.
"I don't think that's what they had in mind when they invented the Time Turner, Hermione."
Both Hermiones turned to find Luna Lovegood staring at them. She didn't seem very phased at all considering what she'd just witnessed and, in particular, between whom.
Future Hermione shrugged it off, and following her own advice from earlier, she decided to just go with it. "Hey Luna… I'd forgotten how cute you were when we were younger. Why don't you come over here so I can remind myself?"
Not skipping a beat, Luna grinned knowingly. "I think I'd like that."'
A/N: For anyone following my other writing - yes I'm still planning to continue WYHSB. I just wrote this for a fun little fic competition I had with some friends.