Another Time
Summary: Hermione has suffered through endless pranks by the hands of the Weasley twins, ever since being placed two years above her own. While Fred can feel nothing but contempt for her, and she an irrational attraction to him, a prophecy tells of a great love between the Warrior King and his Queen, a woman whose intelligence none can equal, and how together they conquer the dark lord that has lain in the shadows for centuries, waiting for his turn to strike mankind. As the chances for their union begin to dissipate, a plan laid by Dumbledore sends the unlikely pair into a world where the only one that they can depend on is the other.
Author's Note: I have no beta and no patience whatsoever so please forgive any grammar, or spelling mistakes---which I'm sure are great in number--- that I have. This story was written loooong before Deathly Hollows, and therefore does not work with what happens in the novel. Anyway, Another Time is the first story in a series of 3 ('Another Time' 'In Our Little Corner' 'Of the Universe') and while I pretty much know where I'm going with the story it has been sitting in my computer gathering dust for around 2 years now with most of the story in my head rather than on paper---or computer. Anyway, I hope you like it. Please Review.
Disclaimer: The fictional fan story based on Harry Potter is mine. OC characters are mine. I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the Harry Potter series.
Changes: Hermione was born in 1990 rather than 1979. Therefore the story begins in the year 2004 rather than 1994. I can hardly remember what it was like at that time. For some odd reason that I was no able to think of quite yet Fred and George started Hogwarts a year late…Hermione did as well but that was JKR's doing, not mine.
Chapter One
September 17, 2004
Hermione Granger was dead to the world as she listened intently to what her potions professor was lecturing them on that day. Copying down perfect notes in her perfect handwriting so that she would be prepared for OWLS when they came, she did not at all finding the speed with which Professor Snape was delivering his lecture straining on her note writing.
She had never minded this class. Actually found it rather enjoyable. Potions truly fascinated her. She loved the precision with which you'd have to work, the exact measurements, the specific ingredients, and yet for all the accuracy it requird it held a world of possibilities…
But truth to be told she always found something to like about each class she took. Except divinations. She might have enjoyed it as a hobby but nothing more. To imply that someone's destiny was decided by a cup of tea leaves frustrated her beyond rationalization. Even more, it frustrated her to see how some people truly believed that the predictions would invariably come true.
"Pst, Granger!"
She turned her head towards George Weasley, one half of the people responsible for her constant misery. "Yes?" Her voice was small, timid, prepared for an onslaught.
The older boy grinned, "Fred wanted me to tell you; nice shirt." His eyes travelled meaningfully down her body, and winked at her.
She looked down in horror, and when she didn't see anything there her horror increased at the thought of an 'invisible-to-the-wearer' hex placed on her shirt. Those were infinitely worse. Her worries proved futile, however.
As she had been looking at her shirt, distracted enough to not guard the journal she always kept close to her person, Fred Weasley, coincidentally the other half of the duo responsible for her misery, snatched it from right out in front of her.
She looked up at his mischievous and superior face, the same one that had at one point been the object of her affection, and her heart sank knowing that whatever he had planned would not be good at all.
He grinned at her evilly before flipping to a random page. For a moment, his eyes widened, his grin faltered and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief; he didn't understand what was written on that page.
"Oh I love him so much."
Her heart stopped beating. Her breath hitched in her throat. Time stopped. Where in the world did he get that from? What was he trying to do?
"I wish we didn't have to hide anything."
The class was completely quite by now; Fred had their undivided attention. Even Snape had stopped his lesson in order to listen to him.
"I wish we could be together forever."
She hadn't written anything close to that nature. She never wrote anything remotely personal in that journal, at least not in English.
"But I guess that's what we have to do. He is my teacher and could get sacked if we were ever found out."
Her eyes widened, her heart sinking with a sickening feeling.
He dodged her attempts at regaining her journal easily and continued, "But oh Snape, why?!"
She stopped trying to get it back, realizing her own stupidity too late. Trying to get it back only made it more genuine.
"All those nights together, why do we have to hide them? They were beauti-"
"Mr. Weasley that's quite enough."
Fred stopped and looked at his professor. For a minute Hermione thought Fred was going to argue with him but he just shrugged and snapped the diary closed, throwing it in front of her.
As he made his way to his friends Fred said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Guess we all know how she got here."
The class snickered, and Snape stopped mid-track, shocked in spite of himself. The voice he used to address the girl, however, was uncaring, "Miss Granger please step out of the class room."
Blushing, the 14 year old looked down. Tears welled up in her eyes but she did not argue, "Yes, professor."
She gathered up her school supplies in to her bag, and threw it over her shoulder, preparing herself for her Walk of Shame. She was not disappointed. Snickers and spiteful calls began to consume the classroom.
She saw Fred reach for his wand from the corner of her eye but could do nothing to prevent the hex he sent towards her. Not that she would have, no, she never stood up for herself against anyone. Not anymore.
Hearing even more snickers she looked down to see the damage that Fred had done and the tears over flowed. She ran out before she could stop herself.
It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.
At the back of her mind, a voice told her 'Life's not fair, love. Deal with it.' But it did nothing to sooth her.
It took her very few minutes to get to her dorm, and even less time to leave it, so keen to get away from the circumstance that had personified itself on her shirt.
She took some time to hide her journal, though, and some time to make sure that her appearance was unharmed by any hexes she might not have noticed.
And as she walked out of the room a shirt that said 'I Shag the professor' in her handwriting lay there, on her bed, abandoned, but the context of it was not.
When Hermione got to the hall for lunch she was faced with unfriendly faces, which was nothing new, but the 'Did he charge you?' and 'Wow, Granger, I knew you were into nasty s but Snape?' comments were.
She sat there, determinedly ignoring the looks she was sent, and the comments, and proceeded to, in her usual manor, read and eat.
The book wasn't the most interesting she had read. But it was a good book, the characters were very well developed as were the themes and the settings. A skilled author, albeit very young. She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice the figure standing behind her, a tall and handsome red head also known as Fred Weasley, also known as the man who thrived on her pain.
"Granger."
The voice he used, beckoned her to turn around and look at him, obligingly. She had never dared cross him, nor George.
"Yes?" She asked, putting down her fork to tell him that she was giving him her full attention.
He didn't answer her, but turned to the person sitting beside her and merely raised an eye brow, causing the second year to scurry away.
Pleased, he smiled as he sat facing her, one leg at either side of the seat. "So tell me," he started pleasantly, quite aware of the fact that the entire hall was starring at them and yet innocently pretending not to notice, "Is your taste truly like that?"
When she didn't reply he carried on, as though they were having a great talk, "Because, I always thought that you'd be better than that. Always thought you'd go for someone with a little more power. Like, say, Dumbledore. Now, that can get you somewhere useful. But Snape? I knew you had a thing for him, Grange, but give me a break." Then he paused and a look of pure joy crossed his face, "Did you actually convince him to take a shower?"
Hermione didn't answer, but her eyes welled up with tears and she just snapped back to her book.
That didn't sit too well with Fred. No one ignored him.
"What? Too good for the rest of us who actually have to work to get to where we are?"
'I work! I work harder than anyone else in this darned school!' She wanted to yell. But she couldn't. She couldn't even gather the guts to look him in the eye at the moment. No. She just shook her head.
"That's what I thought." He placed his hand on top of hers, "You know, if you ever get tired of older men, you can come to my room. I could teach you a few things that guys like Snape and good ol' Proff. D are too old to."
She gulped, "Um, no thanks."
He smirked, "Are you sure?" He asked, inching closer to her.
She nodded though not able to find words when he was sitting so close to her.
Chuckling he leaned closer, "I don't think so."
They were only an inch away, so close that if either of them leaned in a little they would have kissed.
To her ever lasting shame she leaned in, so mesmerized by his lips, and his intense gaze.
He was an amazing kisser, not that she had much to compare it to, but despite the fact that he had done everything in his power to make her life miserable ever since she had skipped 2 years she found the kiss enjoyable. More than enjoyable; it was exquisite, it was perfection.
It was perfection right up until she heard a noise that sounded strangely like a dungbomb going off followed by laughter and a foul smell.
Pulling away she looked around the hall, seeing the faces of her peers as the laughed at her. She looked to Fred, for what she didn't know, but any hope she had shattered when she saw his cruel, triumphant look.
She placed her hand on her lips, her eyes brimming with tears as the laughing faces of everyone in the hall joined together. It was a nightmare.
To add insult to the wound, George walked right up to them and patted Fred on the back, handing him a few galleons, "Great job, Gred. Didn't think you'd actually do it."
Fred just smirked, "Trust me, I almost didn't."
Hermione had never felt more humiliated. Over all the years they had pranked her, she had always felt better about herself than at that moment. She had always had her plan. Kissing him? No, that wasn't part of her plan.
Tears made their way down her face as she ran out of the hall, the laughing voices following her. She cried even when she laid herself down to sleep hours later. She had learned long ago that you do not need to be awake in order to cry. And when she woke up, hours later, she gave a lonely smile and whispered, "Happy Birthday Hermione."