AN - Hi friends! So this is my first story published and I'm kind of excited about it, but nervous at the same time. I was originally going to finish the entire story I had in mind and then post in chunks, but as I was editing, I realized that this certain segment (I think it'll be about twelve chapters) is complete the way it is. But if people enjoy reading this work, I might continue building upon this story. Thank you for reading - I'd love to hear your feedback if you want to comment. All wonderful characters, settings etc belong to J K Rowling.

- Chapter One - May 5th 1999 -

- Abrasive Tables and Audacious Plans -

Hermione sighed as she plunked herself down into a rickety chair. The scratchy wood of the makeshift table rubbed against her arms abrasively and she was once again sadly reminded of times which entailed tables that didn't scrape her skin.

Hannah sat down beside her and grimaced at Hermione's expression. "What's troubling you Hermione?" Hannah's pink cheeked face scrunched with worry for her friend. Gone were the pigtails she used to wear; Hannah sported a long plait akin to the ones Parvati and Padma wore during their Hogwarts days, albeit a little frayed at the edges with split ends.

Hermione looked at Hannah and her face softened. Neville had done well; Hannah was an incredibly sweet witch. The two were a perfect match and she was very happy for them. Although the young couple was considerate and welcoming to Hermione, she just couldn't help but feel like a third wheel in their hidden bunker. "Mmm. Just thinking…" Hermione let her words drift off.

Hannah barked a cute laugh and said, "That's what you always do. In fact, that's who you are Hermione. You're a thinker." Hannah nodded to herself then proceeded to chow down on the dry bread that was a dinner facade.

Her words had merit. Hermione did think all the time, but lately it was reminiscing rather than pondering. Hermione thought back to the Great War and couldn't help a little chin wobble break through her composed poise.

It had been the stuff of nightmares. The Light was always supposed to trump the Dark, wasn't it? This time though, they hadn't. After killing all of the horcruxes except for Nagini, Harry had fallen in battle to Voldemort's wand. He had been intent on doing the rest of the horcrux battle himself because he hadn't wanted to put anyone else he loved in danger. Harry had been so shaken by the deaths belonging to the Order.

Hermione and he had disagreed on this tactic, but they were in fast moving times and she let him go. It was her greatest mistake, she knew. If only Harry had told someone, someone inwardly brave, about Nagini so their group could eliminate the awful snake while Harry focussed more energy on his final battle with Voldemort. Hermione wished that he had let her do it, or Ron, even Neville might have been able to polish off the beast.

Not shortly after the fall of the Chosen One, Voldemort disposed of those who were loyal to Harry (with the exception of the few who had escaped in the chaos and heartache) and gathered more troops. His intent to kill all muggle born wizards and witches gave rise to horrible new professions that Death Eaters gladly took up. 'Mudblood Exterminators' were running rampant in every stretch of Great Britain. Hermione and allies had to go into hiding. Only those with unusual talents were kept alive.

Through all of the turmoil, Ron had killed himself over the grief of immense loss. Hie entire family had been slaughtered in front of him shortly after his best friend's death. He could not live with the death of so many loved ones, and was determined to join them. Hermione's heart broke every time she thought about the ghosts in Ron's eyes during the weeks before it happened. He had been a shell of the witty and charming young man he once was. It was as if a dementor had sucked out his soul.

His body was found hanging from a tree just on the outskirts of the forbidden forest; the deluminator that had fallen from his lifeless grasp rested on the grass underneath him. The Daily Prophet (run by an imperiused Barnabas Cuffe) had poor Ron on the front pages in a cruel act of celebration.

Hermione had escaped with Neville and Hannah during the aftermath. They were kind enough to keep her in their bunker of a home even though she was 'Undesirable Number One'. The last of the golden trio had a huge price tag on her head.

Neville, who worked a menial job at the ministry maintaining the flora of the grounds, had a small apartment along Diagon Alley that he and Hannah stayed in a couple nights a week. This was to dissuade any rumors that the pair had anywhere else they were staying, and more importantly, to avoid leading anyone into realizing that he was hiding a fugitive. Not being able to trust anyone except the remaining members of the DA, Dean Thomas was the secret keeper for their hidden bunker that Hermione was residing in.

Ever since the battle was lost, Hermione remained inside at all costs. After Harry's heartbreaking death, the remainder of the Deathly Hallows were lost as well. Hermione knew that the resurrection stone was somewhere within the Forbidden forest and the elder wand was in Voldemort's slimy grasp, but the invisibility cloak was the greatest loss in her opinion. What a useful tool it was and it must've been dropped on the ruined Hogwarts grounds or trampled down in the scurries of fearful magical creatures in the Forbidden forest. The invisibility cloak had most likely been forever lost or worse, looted by the dark side. Hermione had so many memories being underneath the cloak that she held dearly, it hurt her to think about Death Eaters using it.

So there she sat, a year later with unshed tears in her eyes threatening to spill at any moment. The new trio's general consensus was that although the Great War wreaked havoc on all of their hearts, Hermione had be given the brunt of the pain. The loss of two best friends within months of each other was sure to break anyone's heart, no matter how strong and hardened by war.

When a warm hand patted her own, Hermione looked up into Hannah's baby blues and saw into a mirror of heartbreak. Hermione decided that it was time to do something about the injustice around her. It would not do to sit around and mope.

She hated seeing her friends deal with such sorrow. Hannah had lost her mother to the Death Eaters before the battle even commenced, further back in sixth year. It felt like such a long time ago. Hannah had swallowed her raw grief and fought in the battle at Hogwarts just a year later. Hermione admired the Hufflepuff's bravery.

Hermione got up and paced towards her cot, reaching down underneath it to grab her famous beaded bag. From the bag she grabbed a battered looking notebook. It was time to form a plan.

Neville came home to find his witch in deep discussion with his dear friend. Frizzy brown curls bounced as Hermione shook her head to something Hannah had said. The dirt under his fingernails and dried sweat down his back would have to wait; this seemed important. He grabbed a stale piece of bread and leaned up against the wall watching the two of them with a small smile.

"No, unfortunately it's not that simple, although I wish it was Hannah." Hermione reasoned with her friend. "His horcruxes are present in this timeline due to the magical law of property and matter. They cannot be destroyed in this past in hopes of ridding them of the 'future'. We need to find a way to prevent him from ever making them in a different past. The magical law of property and matter states that in order to 'destroy' something in the past it must never have been created in the first place so that means…" Hermione was pointing towards some rough diagrams in an old looking notebook. The rest didn't matter to him, Neville was confused as to why they were talking about Voldemort's horcruxes.

"What are we talking about?" Neville plopped down into the remaining chair.

"The Dink Lord's horcruxes and how we have to work around this weird law about estates that matter." Hannah scrunched up her face comically at the mention of anything extraordinarily bookish. Neville knew that she much preferred charms and barely scraped an Acceptable in things like arithmancy; his lovely witch didn't even attempt ancient runes. Neville loved Hannah just the same.

Hermione rolled her eyes, beginning to get frustrated. She really needed to get outside of this bunker and talk to someone who could challenge her intellectually. Hannah was the kindest girl Hermione knew, but she could do well to read a bit more often.

"Really, it's quite simple. But never you mind. We must do something different, we have to prevent him from creating those horcruxes in the first place. And in order to do that we will need to nab a-"

"Nope! No. Don't even think about it!" Neville interrupted and quivered at the idea. "You are not going to 'nab a time turner' because that would involve penetrating the ministry." The young man put air quotes around 'nab a time turner'. "I do not want to have either of you in danger." Neville crossed his arms with a frown. Although timid and quiet, Hermione knew that Neville would sooner die than put his loved ones in danger. He was quite similar to Harry in that way.

Hermione pushed a hand through her cocoa curls and huffed. "Neville, please. It's the only way!" She was beyond annoyed that his inner Gryffindor seemed to have shrunk at the thought of disobeying the ministry. Just because he was employed there (as well as the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire as a landscaper) didn't mean that Hermione aimed to abuse his position. Even if gardening the magical plants on the grounds was even a well paying job, which it wasn't, Hermione wouldn't have reconsidered. Neville was barely earning enough to feed himself let alone his girlfriend and a hidden refugee.

Due to pureblood supremacy and anti-muggle-sympathizer attitudes, Hannah had had to give up her job as a waitress at the Three Broomsticks. The group was very lucky that Neville could hold down his job. It was due to sheer botanical talent on his part that Neville could keep his position.

"This is for the greater good!" She explained.

Neville, who had his mouth open slightly, closed it in a wide smile and grinned at her, "Hermione, you're sounding a lot like good ol' Dumbledore." He chuckled, "The greater good my ass. You just want something to do, a mission."

He leaned down to kiss Hannah warmly. "Don't let this one," Neville motioned with his thumb to Hermione, "do anything troublesome my dear. I'm going to bathe and I want you in my bed early tonight. Witch." His whisper was soft in Hannah's ear and she blushed brilliantly at his words.

"Alright, my lion." She murmured with eyes alight. The flustered witch ignored Hermione fake gagging in the background. Hannah giggled as he swaggered out of the small gathering place towards the bathroom.

"He's such a goofball." Hannah sighed. Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

Wanting to get back on track, Hermione lightly slapped the table. Ignoring the tiny splinters, she implored, "Alright, are you on board with my plan?" Her hazel eyes were ablaze with a fiery hunger to do something exciting.

"Hermione, I'm not sure. You going back in time? All that way? Has it ever been done? Would he even be pliable? I'm not sure it's a good idea…" Hannah worried her lip.

"Gah, you ask too many questions." Hermione patted Hannah's arm affectionately.

"Says you, hypocrite."