I have been toying around this idea for a while, seeing as many people have already done it. This is my first multi-chapter Harry Potter fic, and I hope you enjoy it. Some chapters (until chapter 4 actually) are already done. Enjoy!
There will be slight spoilers, books 1 to 7, and this isn't mine, only the plot.
Time will be changed, and I shall defy its laws.
D E F I A N C E
It wasn't supposed to be this way.
Hermione Granger got up from her place in the ground, shook of some dust and tried to walk off to some direction or another. She yelped in pain as soon she stood, however, and a bright red gash appeared on her left leg.
Limping her way to what seemed like a town, she can't help but think of the situation that she's in now. A flood of memories were coming to her, threatening her to stop and rest because of the pain- though she knew she shouldn't, too many things were at stake, and besides, she has been through much worse. Closing her eyes, she painfully recollected her memories from a time that seemed so long ago.
"Excuse me, Ms. Granger, but Professor Dumbledore would like to talk to you."
The voice of Deputy Headmistress startled the student aforementioned. Taking a calming breath, she turned to her Professor and asked, "What for Professor?"
"I'm sorry, but Albus –I mean the headmaster did not specify. But you'd better hurry up, Dumbledore is a busy man," Professor McGonagall said, adding "Oh, and he likes Cockroach Clusters."
"Oh. Well, I guess I should go," gathering her things and quickly nodding to Harry and Ron, she left the Great Hall and proceeded to where she knew the Headmaster's office was.
In all honesty, she has never been up much in this room before, the only chance being when she was made prefect last year. Now, however, is an entirely different experience for her –seeing as the visit was more personal than formal.
She gave the password, and the gargoyles leapt out of the way to grant her access. Stepping up to the escalating stairs, she began to formulate possible reasons of her being here.
Because of studies, perhaps? –no, it wouldn't be, seeing as she has done more than excellent these past few years. Wait –did something happen in her world? Something the Headmaster didn't want to let her know via letters? Are her parents alright?
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door –though she was fairly certain that he knew that she was on the other side of the room anyways.
"Nice to see you could make it, Ms. Granger. Please, be seated," the gray haired man said, indicating the seat in front of his mahogany desk, "and would you interest in tea? We have quite a lengthy talk… Lemon Drop…?"
Walking to the chair and sitting down, Hermione prepared herself for a conversation with the man with the ever twinkling eyes…
That, as harmless as the start was, was the beginning of a tumultuous affair, an affair concerning her, Harry, and the good of mankind.
That was one of the only few conversations she ever had with the now deceased Headmaster. She was charged with a heavy responsibility to watch over Harry, and protect him as she was able, as if she wasn't doing that already. Hermione knew where credit was due, and she knows that she is one of the most powerful wizards of her age, but really! Asking her, of all people, when there were a thousand different people in Hogwarts more capable than she, and more adept Order members, was just plain unusual.
She was fairly certain that while she was advanced for her age, she was no match for the powers of darker people than her. But then again, Professor Dumbledore must have known what he was doing, and so she agreed to promise her aid to Harry's protection and to do all it takes to help them win, albeit reluctantly.
Unfortunately, looking out for Harry, and delving more into the hunt for those blasted Hocruxes, wasn't enough to save him…
"No!"
"NO!"
"NO! Please… no!"
Simultaneous cries of defiance was heard, as Hagrid, followed by Death Eaters, carried a dead, and no longer breathing Harry.
There last hope in this war, gone.
She placed too much hope, then, on their achievement in killing all hocruxes, aside from Nagini. It was too much –she even speculated that the Deathly Hallows could help them.
They didn't. It was a blur now; there was silence, then roars –repeating in a cycle. Voldemort was glorifying in his attained victory and everyone stood shock still at his words. They lost. His laugh, his high, cruel and menacing laugh, finally shook the finality of their defeat.
They lost. And there was nothing they could do about it.
Wait –nothing? It was impossible… fate … they wouldn't, couldn't design a world where the evil triumphs and wins over good. It was just not right.
Gathering everything she has ever known in her life, she decided that she'll still fight. As long as the sun rises, there is something worth fighting for…
That was when she made the most drastic decision she has ever made in her life. She decided that if the fates won't grant good victory in this universe, then she will shape the universe again. She will form history herself, make a new world, a better one –for her, for Harry… for muggle and wizarding world alike.
A battle escaped again, though this time, it was like manslaughter. The crumbling resistance –weak in their shock on Harry's death- tried bravely to fight, but it was futile. Death Eaters were moving left and right, shooting curses and hexes –for more terrible than the Unforgivable Curses –and laughing their hearts out in every death they make.
In the haze and confusion of war, she managed to free herself from the battlefield once known as Hogwarts –escaping the eyes of Voldemort himself.
She had already made up her mind on her decision, and running to the borderline of Hogwarts, she looked back to her second home, to her second family, to her former life… and apparated away –to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
She had an extensive knowledge of the ancient spells, both dark and light. Even before the hunt for the pieces of his soul, she has already used the books provided for her by Dumbledore. She has already known of all possible spells relating to her decision, and when she found it again in one of the tomes she brought to the house of Black, she prepared to cast the complex spell on her.
The spell was longer than the ones now, more complex, more confusing and decidedly more power consuming. But she had to do this- had to go back to the time before Riddle, before this mucked up mess, and change it.
'Vicis ero abeo quod ego vadu…'
With a painful jerk and an indescribable sensation, the only occupants left in the Most Noble House of Black were the books and Witherwings.
Inhaling a deep breath and taking courage from her memories, Hermione made her way down to the village, which to her delight was a wizarding one.
It was only a couple of meters away, and fate, strangely enough, was playing in her hands since it was not so much occupied. The lesser to see her, the better, seeing as how she was wearing attire –bloodied and bruised, with uncountable scratches and tears in her robes –entirely inappropriate for a time five decades from hers.
Finally, she made it into the road, and was surprised by a sudden shout.
"What the hell happened to you?!?" A thoroughly irate female voice was shouting at her.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, she fainted in exhaustion and fatigue.
If she was able to make a conscious thought before fainting, she would have remembered that people on the 50s did not talk in such manner.
I'm very sorry if I don't get to reply to reviews, though I really do appreciate them. In all honesty, I am already adding an extra hour in the clock just so I can let my ideas and imagination out and let you guys have free entertainment.
Thank you though, for the reviews. And please read my other HP fics (oneshots, though), The Secret, The Smile of His Heroine, and In The Library -all in my profile, of course.
I hope that was good enough, or at least near to your standards.