Chapter 1
She was cold. Tired. Numb. Every sinew in her body screamed out as she walked along the familiar corridor. So familiar, so empty. The girl stopped when she reached the entrance to the great hall. It was well into the night and all the students were safe in their dorms. Taking in a deep breath to steady herself, Hermione stared into the room where just hours before… no, she couldn't think of that. She had a job to do. Strengthening her resolve, Hermione turned to the grand staircase and began her ascent. Her body moved autonomously towards his office. Dumbledore. Another ghost. Another friend she had mourned. In other circumstances, Hermione would have felt a warm comfort at the knowledge of his proximity. But her heart was numb with an ice cold barrier. She doubted she would ever feel warmth again. And she had a job to do.
One hour ago…
The battle was over. Smoked filled the air, collecting in a choking mass above the castle. Hermione knew what it meant. She refused to look. Instead she busied herself with helping the wounded, finding survivors and comforting those who had lost their loved ones. Everywhere she turned she could smell death. Nobody spoke. The silence was consuming. She looked into the eyes of survivors and was met by emptiness. They were past the point of despair, past the point of grief. Their one hope had died with the boy who lived.
"Hermione Granger." It was Kingsley Shacklebolt. Hermione let the deep voice wash over her. She nodded, too weak to seek the eyes of her companion. "Come with me." They walked together in silence. There was nothing more to say. Hermione followed blindly, and was only slightly surprised to find herself in the headmaster's office.
Shacklebolt positioned himself in the centre of the room and looked up at the life size painting of Albus Dumbledore. "Defeat." One word. How could one word hold such devastating power? Hermione's heart screamed at the sound of it, fresh tears appearing at the corner of her eyes. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout and fight and die.
"It's time." The painting of Dumbledore replied. He looked tired, old and completely beaten as he looked upon Hermione. "There is something I must ask you to do, and you must do it now." Hermione noted the severity in his voice and nodded. "For some time now professor Snape and I have been seeking alternative means to strip lord Voldermort of his power. Alas, our options were few and the alternative to this battle seemed too much of a risk to even contemplate. But, it would seem, we have nothing left to lose."
"Professor Snape, as you know, was very gifted when it came to the dark arts. He devised a way to send you back in time," explained Shacklebolt. "to 1944." Hermione stared between the man and the painting as understanding dawned.
"You want me to kill him." Hermione noted the eagerness in her voice. Yes, she thought. That would solve everything. Harry would be alive; he could be with his parents. They would all be alive, Professor Lupin, Tonks, Fred and Ron. Ron. Her Ron.
"Ah, Miss Granger you mistake me. Indeed, it is my intent that you go to 1944 in order to prevent Voldermort from committing the terrible atrocities he is destined to commit, however, the Tom Riddle of 1944 is innocent of these crimes. It would be unethical to take his life." Dumbledore's eyes softened for a moment as he considered his next words. "What I am asking you to do Hermione is incredibly dangerous, and it is something I would not ask of anyone else. I want you to befriend Tom Riddle. He had little kindness shown to him during his life. He was a forgotten child, his peers too frightened of him to be true friends, teachers too manipulated by his charms to see the lonely child within. It is my belief that if Tom had ever known real feelings of friendship, and even the possibility of love, he would not have become the lord Voldermort of this time" Hermione didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth, but no words came.
"Professor Snape suggested that it should be you to go. He respected you, and felt that Tom would only truly befriend someone with a similar intellect to his own." Hermione scoffed at this. She couldn't quite believe that Professor Snape felt anything towards her other than annoyance. "If you do this Hermione, you can never return. There will be no way back to this time. You will never see your family again." Dumbledore's words echoed through her entire being. Life as she knew it would no longer exist. Hermione wondered briefly if this timeline would even exist. So little was understood about the repercussions of time travel. She thought of her parents, safe in Australia with no knowledge of their brilliant witch of a daughter. Safe. Hermione knew that with the war lost, she would never be able to see them again. As the best friend of the boy who lived, she had a strong feeling that her own life would be over soon. In that moment, there seemed little to consider.
"I will do it." Her companions didn't respond. It was inevitable.
"This is the device that will take you into the past. It works in much the same way as a port-key." Shacklebolt suspended a tattered potions book in mid-air, taking great care not to touch it. Hermione's stomach lurched with recognition. Shacklebolt smiled. "Snapes personal joke I think. Or perhaps he felt it may come in handy. I suppose we will never know." Hermione shuddered as she remembered the spells contained within the pages of the advanced potions making book.
"You have little time Miss Granger. You must leave us soon. Once you arrive in the past, seek me out in the transfiguration office. Do not tell my past self any more than is absolutely necessary. I trust I will know what to do, I usually do." Dumbledore smiled briefly at his private joke. Hermione could almost see the old sparkle in his eye, but in less than a second it was gone. Dumbledore shook his head before looking back into her eyes. "Good luck." On his cue Hermione took hold of the advanced potions book and began her journey into the past.