A Better Future, A Stranger Past
Summary: Ok, this is gonna be a bit of a long one... Rather than Having Harry sent back to just after his 11th birthday, what if it was Hermione instead? How would this affect things for the young muggle born?
A/N: Ok, so I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOOOOOOVE time-travel fics, but I think my previous attempt (T.B) was a little... over the top... (Not that this one will be any simpler... =P) Oh yeah, thanks to Joe for giving HJP to us, you might see one or two O.C's now and again though! =P
The Prologue stats off during the cannon final battle...
Prologue:
Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the hall upon it.
"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand."
A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them, as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that Voldemort's was suddenly a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he, too, yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco's wand:
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
The bang was like a cannon-blast and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead centre of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air towards the master it would not kill, who had to come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of a Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backwards, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upwards. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snake-like face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.
One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. Looking round however, Harry noticed that not everyone was cheering. He saw Ron kneeling on the floor sobbing and moved over.
"Ron, what's the matter? I thought that you'd be glad to see the back of-"
"Hermione's gone Harry," Ron whispered, wiping his eye. "I saw it myself, she was hit by a stay bolt of magic when you and Voldemort duelled."
Harry knelt next to his best friend, just as Ginny, Luna and Neville ran up to them.
"I always knew you'd win Harry," said Luna. Then, noticing Ron's face she said, "Hermione's safe Ron, whenever she is."
"Erm, Luna, what do you mean by 'whenever'?" Ginny asked, puzzled. Before Luna could answer, a large white-gold cube appeared in the middle of the group. And, without even hesitating, the five of them raised their right hands and placed one on each of the cube's faces.
***
Hermione yawned as she woke, rubbing her face groggily; she fumbled for the hangings of her four-poster bed. After a few seconds confusion she opened her eyes and peered round the room. She gasped and nearly fell out of bed at what she saw. She was in her room, Her own bedroom, but it was her old room. She was back in the room she had when she was eleven, before she started at Hogwarts…