Author's Note:

If this seems familiar, it is because I published this prologue under another username (whythosir). Ultimately, I have decided to take another route with this story, and therefore have rewritten and republished this prologue under my new/current username. Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I hope you enjoy, please don't forget to review! This story is an adaptation of the Harry Potter series, anything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.

Prologue

Hermione was floating in a sea of fire. Her bones had become splinters of glass, digging their way through every fibre of her being as her blood boiled and her veins turned to dust inside her. "It's a fake!" She spat, tears in her eyes. Bellatrix laughed. Hermione could feel the sound reverberating in her soul. Bellatrix's eyes were wild. She was unhinged. Rabid.

"You lie!" She shrieked, pointing her wand at her again. "Crucio!" Hermione was screaming. Or at least she thought she was screaming. She assumed she was screaming. She couldn't be sure. "How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix was pacing over her. "How did you get into my vault!"

"We didn't, I swear." Her voice was barely a whisper. This did not appease the Witch. Bellatrix threw herself on top of Hermione, pinning the younger girl to the ground. She dug her wand into her arm.

"Tell me!" She screamed again, peppering Hermione's face with her spit. Hermione only cried. Mudblood. Hermione's cry was hoarse as Bellatrix marked her arm. She could feel the woman's anger with every movement, like venom seeping through her. Hermione's eyes flickered. She was floating again, only this time she couldn't feel anything. A darkness was forming in the corners of her eyes. An all encompassing blackness. Hermione embraced it.

~~~~~~

She awoke the sound of screaming, and it took her a moment to realize that the noise was coming from her before it dissolved into racking sobs. Gentle hands were on her; removing her bloodied clothes and dabbing at her forehead. Someone was telling her everything was okay. Hermione was too weak to tell them it wasn't.

When Hermione awoke for the second time she found herself in bed. The room itself was unfamiliar, but the blankets were soft and warm, and despite her fear and apprehension at finding herself in an unknown place, she was overcome with an overwhelming urge to just stay where she was.

Hermione got up, despite this instinct. She had never been very reliant on instincts anyways. She had always been a person of logic- of the brain, and Hermione's brain was telling her that she needed to get the hell out and run. It took her an entire ten minutes to cross the short distance from her bed to the door. And upon turning the knob Hermione was surprised to find it unlocked. She peered out in into the empty hallway, listening closely for the sounds of another human being. She heard nothing.

There was a door at the end of the hall. Hermione was sweating viciously, her heart beating so loudly she could feel it's familiar thumps in her core. She reached for the handle slowly, trying her best to make not a modicum of sound. Reciting a silent prayer to whichever and whatever gods might have been listening, Hermione turned the knob and entered the room.

"Ah- thank you for joining us, Miss Granger."

Hermione startled at the sudden voice, her eyes widening. Albus Dumbledore was seated at the head of a large, wooden table. The room empty except for her former headmaster; she froze in place.

"Come in, come in. You're quite safe, I promise you."

Hermione didn't know what to think, but she did as she was told. Slowly entering the room and shutting the door behind her. She stood with her back to the exit, her hand hovering over the handle, ready to disappear at the earliest sign of threat.

"Professor Dumbledore?" She whispered, her voice cracking.

"Please," he was smiling gently, "take a seat. No one here will harm you." He motioned to an empty seat. Hermione crossed the room cautiously, settling down in the chair offered to her, her hands clasped firmly together.

"I don't understand." She said quietly.

"Miss Granger." Dumbledore said solemnly, getting to his feet, "I'm afraid you're quite a ways from home." She blinked and the man continued. "You were found in an alleyway in muggle London. The Ministry had sent officials to investigate what had been reported as a massive magical outburst- we intercepted."

Hermione swallowed nervously. This didn't make any sense. I've lost my mind. She thought. It's the only explanation. I've been tortured into insanity and this my mind's way to coping with my new reality- my descent into madness. Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes, she blinked them back, wiping them away.

"You were brought here, and due to your… condition, I was summoned immediately. Your body was not ready for interrogation. But your mind- your mind was open."

Hermione understood. Albus Dumbledore was a skilled legilimens. She studied her fingernails closely. This wasn't real. This wasn't real. This wasn't real. Hopefully the healers at St. Mungo's could help her- if she ever made it out of Malfoy Manor. Unlikely.

"I am sorry to inform you that you seem to have traveled in time." Hermione's head snapped up. Her mouth open dumbly, "what?" She breathed.

*I have viewed your memories, Miss Granger. I know your truths, and I know you mean no harm to me, or any of the others I choose to align myself with."

"What year is it?" Travelled in time? Hermione wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "How would I have gone back in time? That's impossible. I didn't have a time turner- I didn't even have my wand!"

Her previously dead (or future dead? Inner Hermione snickered nervously) headmaster shook his head. "How, I cannot say. It is something that merits investigation… but I warn you now, we may never know the truth. Magic works in mysterious and limitless ways... As for the date, it is currently August 6th of the year 1977."

Hermione was struggling to comprehend the events that were unfolding in front of her. "Am I mad?" She asked.

"Possibly." Albus chuckled softly, "but aren't we all- just a little?"

"I will be removing the most relevant memories." The medi-wizard in front of her explained, "After which, they will be transported to Mr. Dumbledore to safe-keeping." Hermione nodded. "I can put aside a few… personal ones as well."

"I would like that very much, thank you." She said quietly. The man gave her a sad smile.

"Once all the required moments have been removed, I will wipe your mind. It will be as if none of it ever happened." Hermione nodded again, already aware of the plan, but thankful to the man for his thorough explanations.

"You will retain some information," he went on, "your name, basic information- like your likes and interests. Your personality will not disappear." He assured her. "I will implant a basic cover story and your mind should create false memories to explain any gaps in the timeline of events."
Hermione swallowed her sadness, her mind flicking through the memories should would lose. "I will leave your childhood intact, editing the memories so they do not appear out of the ordinary in this time." For this Hermione was thankful. She would remember her parents. Even if they wouldn't remember her. "Do you have any personal moments you'd like me to save?" He asked.

"My first day at Hogwarts, becoming friends with Ron and Harry, dancing with Victor at the Yule Ball, Fleur and Bill's wedding." How could she choose her most important memories just like that? "Telling my parents I love them." A tear made its way down her cheek.

"You can close your eyes now." The man said gently.

She did.