Help I'm in Love with my Professor

Derp. I'm back! Hell yeah! And I'm here to stay :3 Damn haven't been on since, well idk, but still! Anyway, hello :D new and old readers/fans/haters/random person. Enjoy.

Disclaimer-Not mine characters -_-

Warnings-Rape, Profanity, War, Homosexuality, Genderbender/Crossdressing etc. Don't like don't read.

Summary-The Light has lost, the latter had won. She's the only one left, she had nothing left. But when a chance to redeem and prevent all of this, she won't hesitate to take it. Even if that means offering your life. Hermione knew that tinkering with time had its deadly, unknown consequences, but she didn't care. She had a mission and nothing will get in her way, not even being thrown back in time./ Marauder fic

Chapter One-Where to begin?


She screeched, inhuman noises erupting from her raw throat. The other women, who was obviously much older and in better condition than the girl, laughed at her reaction; her voice reminded the younger girl of chalk on nails.

The swampy air was filled with the sound of whips hitting flesh which was soon followed by a failing attempt of a cry.

Narcissa Malfoy was having the time of her life. After the defeat of the oh so great Harry Potter almost four years ago, many Death Eaters had a much easier time doing whatever they pleased. Many on the Light's side was killed, most ending their days during the last battle, some before, some after the fall of Potter.

Like many others, Ron Weasley, spent his final moments fighting alongside his best friend. He died shortly after Harry's defeat. The final battle, which lasted roughly around twelve hours, ended in a great defeat. Only a handful survived. They died shortly though, many Death Eaters seeking revenge from their side.

Narcissa had the pleasure of finding her. She was one of the few survivors, the last remaining of the Golden Trio. Normally, she wouldn't have hesitated to kill this muggle born, however, unlike the others seeking revenge, she wanted savor hers as long as possible.

She cackled as she whipped the girl, the item coming down with such force it cut deep into her bloody and halfway revealed bosom. "Tell me mudblood! Do you enjoy this?" She summoned her wand, chanting one of the three forbidden curses. "Curcio!" It hit, it was shot point blank.

The chained person twitched, having no energy left to even mumble her pain.

Again Narcissa chanted the spell. And again. And again.

This lasted for quite a while. Discontent to find her victim on the edge of death, the older witch hissed and ordered one of her maids in the dungeon.

A tiny mousy maid scurried her way in, holding a basket filled with potions and medical tools. "Fix her up!" The harsh command jolted the scared girl, almost making her trip over her own feet. "She better be fixed by the time I return home tomorrow!"

With a loud bang, she left the dungeon.

"U-uh-um, e-e-excuse m-me!" The smaller girl stammered as she took out the tools to clean the bloody girl. She herself was short, so reaching the face of the prisoner was difficult for her. It didn't help that the body was chained by the wrist to the wall, which lifted her a good feet off the ground.

Soon enough, the maid, quite use to the job, was done and ready to leave. She was way too happy to leave; she may have been at this job for the past two years but the smell of rotting flesh and blood made her sick to her stomach.


Hermione. Hermione Granger.

Her name. That's all she has. Her parents and family are dead, killed by Death Eaters after the defeat of Harry. Her friends, who was she kidding, they were all dead too. After the Final Battle, she and she alone, managed to walk away. Desperate and in denial, she spent the next two years training, searching, killing. She trained, her powers incredibly many times better than ever before. She searched for any survivors, both in the muggle and wizard world. None. She killed. She didn't kill people, she didn't kill wizards, she killed Death Eaters.

Two years, two whole years by herself, hoping and wondering the world. She found nothing. But she couldn't' give up, not after her promise with Harry. But at the ripe age of 19, she was captured and only a year after, she was broken.

For a whole year, locked in a dungeon, the only thing you knew would be there for you would be torture. She promised, and she kept it.

His lips left hers with a shocking and tingling feeling.

"Harry!" She gasped, quickly trying to shake of the heat rising to her face. The surprised attack shocked her, making her drop the needle off of her tiny hands.

"Hermione." He muttered. He stared at her bosom, focusing not as much at her tiny, but adorable breast, but on the freshly sewed incision. It was almost directly where her heart should have been. He placed a calloused hand on her bear breast.

"Harry, don't." She gently grabbed his hands, embarrassed, not much of the view she's giving him nor the lingering feeling of his touch, but the fact that he had caught her in the act.

"No", Harry pushed her hand off his hand, the digits finding themselves back on her chest. "Hermione, I said forget it. Why?" He paused, seeing the look of discomfort on her face. "Why did you do this? Why did you do this to yourself?"

"Harry, I-" She say the hurt look pass Harry's face. "I'm sorry."

She put a hand on the dressed cut. She was bleeding slightly. She knew she shouldn't have done it, she knew it would hurt him and her friends, but she couldn't help herself. More than two quarters of their allies were already deceased. If anything were to happen, she needed to know she could at least, at the very least, do something.

He drew his forehead to hers, their faces touching. He closed his eyes, finding words to say, the right words. "Herms." She watched his face, his face which showed no more emotions. "Please, please promise me, you'll never ever do that spell.." His voice was pleading, no, begging, cracking with so much emotion.

"Harry, I-I can't.."

"Please! Hermione! There's only been on person to preform that spell! And he never came back! He's gone, no one knows where he went!" His green eyes pierced her own. Tears threatened to escape and trail down his scarred face. "Please, I can't lose you, I just can't."

"I…." She was lost for words.

"Promised me, please, don't ever give up hope. I won't lose, I won't let Voldemort win."

He stared into her eyes, searching for something to see she understands.

"I, I promise." He hugged her. "I promise Harry."

Soon after, they've managed to clean up. Hermione's last desperate attempt to help was worthless. There was no way of turning back, once she had installed the time-tuner into her body, she could never get it back.

They were cleaned and heading downstairs to meet the others. "Harry, go on, I have to do something real quick, tell Ginny and Ron I'll be down in a bit."

"Ok."

He left, his back was the only thing she saw. She never thought that this image was the last she would see of him before his last moment, before his death. She never knew in just a matter of hours, all of everything in her little world would be gone.

"Yeah Harry." She muttered under her breath, just when he was just far enough to not hear her voice. "I promise. I promise…" She was losing conscious. Damn, she lost too much blood.

09:36 PM The Final Battle has begun. She was passed out half of the time.

Hermione was shock, for starters to say. Tears bore down her face. She hadn't dreamt for the past years and to think, this was her first in years. Her salty drops pained the multiple cuts on her face.

'I-What have I been thinking?' She struggled to lift her head. Her muscles, practically all, have not been used for so long. For so long she hung broken, unmoving, reacting only to the abuse of the Malfoy family.

Something in her snapped. "I-I." Her voice was rigid and raspy. "Wh-what the…..hh-hell have I've been do-doing here?" She hadn't heard her own voice in such a long time, setting asides the cries she's been conjuring for the past months. It, it just seemed so different, so low, so hoarse, so much like a strangers.

See looked around the darken room. Her neck strained to hold her head up, her eyes adjusting to the dark. For so long, she felt broken and useless, waiting for the day she would just drop dead.

Why did she do that? Why was she broken in the first place?

This was no time to reminisce in the past, to drown in sorrows and feel sorry for herself.

She needed to get out.

On the opposing wall, which stood parallel to her body, hung Narcissa's signature toy; a leather whip enforced by steel. A shiver crawled down her misaligned spine as she saw the bits of human flesh and blood everywhere. No spot in the room was excluded from the blood spree. Hermione noticed the basket of first-aids, which she assumed was left earlier by the woozy maid. She could make out some bandages, gauzes, alcohol; there were some needles on a tiny pillow thing and something sharp, something she guessed could have been a scissor or knife.

There was no time to hesitate, she needed to get out, and she needed to get out now. It was now or never, her body screaming for her to do it.

Adrenaline spread throughout her tiny body. Somehow, she was able to move again. "Solvo secundus inhonestus." The chains that dug into her thin wrist snapped open, dropping her on the cold floor. She knelt on her knees, gravity taking a slight toll on her. She bit her chapped lips, pushed herself up and crawled towards the basket of medical supplies.


Quickly she removed her top, or at least what was left of it. Raw skin, deep scars and new and old bruises were visible, if only for a second. What stood out the most was the open wound that stretched from her shoulder all the way down to her miniature waist. Within seconds, she's rewrapped herself up, her thin figure closer to that of a boy's rather than that of a young woman.

She practically wrapped her whole body in the long bandages and gauzes. She would have joked she looked like a mummy if only she wasn't in a need to get out of this wretched place.

Wrapped and armed (she was thankful to find some surgical knives within the basket), she gratefully grabbed a tattered cloak one of the Malfoy's have carelessly left behind. She paused as she reached the door.

She had no idea how to get out of here.

She was unarmed, wizarding wise. Surely, with her luck, she would run into a Death Eater or two. All she had was a small muggle knife, against well-armed, well-nourished Death Eaters.

She mentally slapped herself; she didn't have the luxury to take her time.

However, if things went her way, she would hopefully be out in no time.

She wasn't as sure as to how, but she did it. She got out. Her memory and stamina was starting to turn on her, but she knew she needed to get her ass out of here. How she did it, she didn't know, but here she was, running on the grassy land outside of the Malfoy manor. She could make out three to four Death Eaters after her, shouting all kinds of spells trying to get her. She dodged most, if not just pushed through as a couple made their target.

She paid no attention as she made her dash for the forest. Nothing, not even the burning and painful wounds made her stop. The adrenaline was gushing throughout her body, enough of it was made to forget and ignore all her physical bodily needs.

She wasn't so sure when, but soon enough, the group of Death Eaters had caught up to her.

"Er, what do we do now Org?" She heard one whispered towards the other.

The others shushed the one which Hermione deemed was the slowest of the four.

Somehow, she noticed her knife had already found its way towards her already bloodied hands.

One, a fiery red headed man, somewhat attractive if only they've met with a different situation geared his blazing blue eyes towards her. "Kyle, don't hold me back! I'm going to kill that bitch!"

A hand (Org's?) stopped him.

"Don't Marcus." He gave a long look towards the other. "Remember, she's Master Malfoy's favorite."

"She fucking killed Kayla! Kayla, we were going to get married next year!"

Org gave the other man a knowing look. He himself was only a lowly Death Eater, assigned to work under the Malfoy's. He always wondered why his master insisted on keeping this girl alive when everyone knew he could have any girl he wanted. Still, he questioned not his master nor his motives but only put his faith on him.

Suddenly, he was hit was a spell. What spell, he wasn't sure. All he knew was he was passing out, his world suddenly disappearing.


Hermione had to get rid of these men if she wanted to get out of her in one piece. The blood on her hands, now she remembers. On her escape out, she ran into a maid. Without hesitation, she rushed towards the screeching maid and silenced her, blood gushing from her throat. She felt nothing.

Her memory was starting to laps her again. She, again, didn't know how, but she made it to the forest. Nothing was in her head besides one thing. The faint tick within her soft heart beat keep her mind on it, reminding her of its existence.

Hermione remembered. She remembered how four years ago, she foolishly let herself fall into despair, into hopelessness. She remembered the spell, the taboo spell which only she and the original creator had attempted. She remembered the self-surgery which she performed on herself.

" Petrificus Totalus!" The curse passed by a strand.

A few more curses were sent her way, dodging each time. Somehow, Hermione found herself running again. She knew her body wasn't going to hold out much longer. It somehow escalated and the men were throwing forbidden curses at her.

Seconds later, she managed to get some distance between her and the latter.

She knew what she had to do, and she had to do it now. She knew every action had its consequence. She had nothing here; everything was taken away from her. Death Eaters ruled the world and she had no hope left. At least maybe, maybe she could change something.

She knew. She didn't know how she did, but she did. Messing with history, messing with time, no one did. No one ever tried, set aside from the times she used her time turner for extra study time. She didn't know what would happen, hell she didn't know if this damn curse in her chest would do anything, but she had to try.

She had no wand to activate the spell. She heard shouting behind her. Damn they caught up quick. She had no choice, she had to fight back and get rid of them. She jumped out, jumped on the back of one of the men. The other two threw two of the forbidden curses their way. Instead of her, it hit the man. He hit the floor screaming in pain.

She grabbed his wand and armed herself with it. She stared down the other two. She had to do it quick.

"Avada Kedavra!" The red headed man from earlier shouted at her.

"Strenuus secundus chance!" Something within her flattened chest started to glow, every cuts and bruises multiplying their grief and pain they caused.

She was late, a second too late. Before she managed to activate the item, she was hit. The killing spell has hit her directly in the middle of her chest.

The men cheered. Light exploded.

She was gone.

Sorry Harry, but if you can't keep your promise, neither can I.


Spell list-

solvo secundus inhonestus- release second degree

Petrificus Totalus-full body bind curse

Avada Kedavra-killing curse

strenuus secundus chance-activate second chance

I is a review whore! :3 Please? *smoulder*