Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognise, as Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her affiliates. I don't make any money with this. You can find this story on AO3 as well, by the way.

Huge thanks to Sunset Whispers for beta'ing this chapter. All remaining mistakes are to blame on me, since I couldn't stop tinkering with it...

Chapter 1

You made a wish and I fell out of time.

— Avicii (The Days)

'WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?' an angry voice shouted.

Barely conscious the first thought surfaced. I am alive. Wincing due to the pain that lanced through her back, more thoughts began to appear. He didn't kill me. It seems like he's the reasonable type - ask questions first, take action later. Her head pounded viciously as she desperately tried to move and open her eyes.

'How the fuck did you get into my house?' the same voice hissed, now very close to her. She felt the tip of his wand dig into her throat.

She used all her strength to barely rasp out two words, 'I-I was…'

And then everything went black.

Footsteps. Somebody seemed to be pacing through the room. When she tried to turn her head, a sharp pain shot through her neck and down her spine. She let out a dreadful scream. The footsteps stopped.

And the darkness engulfed her once more.

Somebody tried to force something down her throat. It felt like liquid and had a bitter taste to it. I bet it's poison, she thought. With her last bit of strength she tried to resist swallowing it and nearly forgot to breathe in the process. She felt her consciousness slowly slipping away. Please, don't -

And yet the terrifying blackness drew her in even more deeply than before.

One of the first sensations her brain registered was that she was lying on something soft and rather comfortable. As she tried to pry her eyes open that felt like they were glued shut, a rather reassuring thought occurred to her. Must be my bed. Haven't had nightmares in weeks. This one felt so real... She remembered the angry voice before falling into the infinite darkness. Shuddering, her eyes finally opened and she slowly took in her surroundings.

Her room was flooded in sunlight. Oh no, it must be nearly noon already! I'm late for work! If my boss finds out that I… Her thoughts halted abruptly when she realised that the sunlight was coming into the room from her right side - not from the left like it did in her room.

Dread suddenly flooded through her. Don't be silly, Hermione, she chastised herself. I must have moved in my sleep. Her head was still pounding and she sighed knowing the dull throbbing pain wouldn't be going away just yet. Well, that's nothing new, she thought. When she looked up to see the dark wooden ceiling, she felt a wave of fear crashing over her. This is definitely not my room.

Trying not to panic, she turned her head to the right where her eyes found a wooden coffee table with a dirty rug underneath it. Behind the table stood an old murky brown armchair.

A boy with raven-black hair sat in it asleep, his right hand clutching a dark wand. She had never seen him before, and she certainly didn't remember entering this house. Unless that dream had been real… and the angry voice belonged to him. No, that couldn't be, she thought. Not wanting to know if she was right she decided to flee while she still had the chance. Slowly and soundlessly, she reached for her wand which was nestled in the right pocket of her jeans - only to find it missing. Fear coursed through her veins and she bolted up abruptly to get onto her feet.

Suddenly a violent ringing flooded the silent room. The boy's eyes flew open and he sprang from his armchair, wand held ready to hex her. Only then did she realise that she was still lying on a couch, her arms and feet firmly held in place by invisible bonds, while the shrill alarm sound continued.

Shit.

Fasten your seat belts, please. Here we go!