Mend: A Marauders Twist in Fate
By Slytherin Princess
Chapter One
May 2nd, 1998
~Hermione Granger~
It was a beautiful day.
A bright blue sky could be seen through the gaping holes in Hogwarts' roof and puffy white clouds floated lazily across the scape. Hermione walked through the arch that once held the grand mahogany doors of Hogwarts. From a distance she could see the winding branches of the Whomping Willow reached out towards the sun and feel the heat baking the ashes under her feet. Hermione stared out across the courtyard blankly, the collapsed beams and scattered slabs of stone from the walls covered the ground.
Hermione couldn't remember ever seeing Hogwarts so empty. The courtyard, even during classes, was filled with bouncing students- House scarves billowing in the wind as they joked and raced each other. The glow of the sun warmed them as they laughed and cast humourous charms and jinxes against each other. Now it all felt cold and utterly barren.
Although she knew that it wouldn't last long, the silence, soon the bridge would be swarmed by an army of vindictive Death Eaters. All of them led by Voldemort and coming for her best friend. The brown haired witch stood silently as the wind blew past her, mulling through the dirt at her feet. Hermione ran her fingers against the rough stone of the doorframe, her fingertips brushing the cracks and imperfections. It was in ruin now- thousands of years of history destroyed because of a madman.
Sitting on the ground, it brought a rough reality back into her bones. There was a high possibility that soon, she and everyone she knew would be dead. Hermione believed that they would all fight to the death but they were wounded and outnumbered.
Bringing her knees towards her chest, Hermione noticed the torn holes in her jeans and bloodied and scraped skin underneath. It seemed like such an insignificant injury while surrounded by the remains of her home and the bodies of her friends and fellow Order members. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, trying in vain to keep out the unwelcomed warmth of the summer day.
She didn't think the cobblestones should be covered in blood of innocents and she hated that the breeze carried the unmistakably heavy stench of Dark Magic and Unforgivables. Her eyes watered and she expected tears to roll down her face, but nothing came. Hermione stayed quiet, watching nothing in particular.
She blinked and behind her eyes there was the continued movie playing in her head.
I know that many of you will want to fight, some of you may even think that to fight is wise, but this is foolish. Give me Harry Potter, do this and none shall be harmed, give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched, give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour.
And their hour was almost up.
There was a soft shuffle of rubble as footsteps closed in behind her before Neville sat on the steps next to her. He didn't look at her for a long moment before turning his head slightly, "You reckon he'll go?" Neville asked, but Hermione could tell he already knew the answer.
Hermione didn't think he needed to elaborate either. There was little else plaguing her mind. Harry was at the forefront of her head and no matter how much positivity she tried to project, the dread curled in her stomach like a molten ball of lead.
"He's Harry fucking Potter, have you ever known him not to run headfirst into danger for others, risking his life, despite how hopeless the situation may seem?" Hermione said with little bite to her tone. Out of the corner of her eye Hermione could see Neville watching her strangely. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
The Gryffindor dimly grinned and shook his head, "Never heard you curse before."
"I figure time is short for all of us right now, I might as well try it out. Who knows, maybe I have the vocabulary of a sailor and never knew." Hermione could see the blood caked under her fingernails and, with a grimace, tried to chip it away. The dried crimson stayed and Hermione didn't have the will to try any harder to get it out.
"You're going with him." Neville said, leaving no room for question. "'Course you are, the two of you are glued at the hip."
Hermione nodded absentmindedly. There was no point in denying it, especially in front of Neville, he seemed to have a way of knowing when she lied anyways. "Hey, Neville?"
His bushy eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Yeah?" He asked.
"Can you promise me you'll hold down the fort after we go? There's a chance neither of us are coming back from the Forbidden Forest and-" Hermione closed her eyes tightly, suddenly not wanting to talk about what could happen. But this was no time for safety gloves, peering up at him, Hermione whispered, "I wouldn't want anyone else to keep this place together."
Neville was nervous under her persistent gaze, but he gulped and nodded. "I promise."
"You really are brave, as if the collapsing bridge didn't already prove as much." Hermione tried to smile reassuringly towards him but it came out more like a grimace.
"I'll keep everyone together, best I can."
In that moment, she believed him and that brought her some small sense of comfort. The two of them didn't say anything else as they climbed to their unsteady feet. Together they walked back inside the empty entrance hall. The concaves that once held the stone soldiers were barren, their occupants in shattered pieces around the Hogwarts grounds.
Hermione remembered how lively the Great Hall was during her years at Hogwarts, the constant gossip mill running amuck thanks to Laventer at every meal and the small explosions from Seamus Finnigan. Now it was filled with unmoving bodies covered in thin white sheets.
She could see Ron across the room, his ginger head bent down into the shoulder of his older brother. Heart wrenching sobs rocking his body as he clutched onto Fred's jacket with shaking fingers, Molly brushing bloodied hair away from her lifeless child's pale face. George sat next to the cot, looking out helplessly as his family mourned his twin. Hermione watched his wand clatter to the ground as he buried his face in his hands and cried.
Hermione's eyes stung with unshed tears as she looked away and scanned the room for Harry's unruly head of dark curls. Her best friend was standing stiffly with folded white linen held tightly in his hands. Hermione moved to him, slowly, casting a somber glance at Lavender Brown as she passed by. The girl's curly hair was still tied loosely in its blue bow, her petit neck exhibiting the savage tear of Fenrir Greyback's teeth, her face colourless.
Harry jumped when he felt her hand slide onto his shoulder. Hermione took the sheet out of his hands gently, falling to her knees as she respectfully covered her favourite Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Remus' hand was outstretched towards his purple haired mate, barely an inch away from her dainty fingers. It seemed Harry had already covered Tonks and she was grateful for that. Hermione carefully pulled the fabric over his slackened face and, before standing to her full height, placed his hand on top of his wife's morosely.
Harry rubbed angrily at his swollen eyes and sniffed back a sorrowful cry. Hermione steered him away from the Great Hall with little difficulty, side stepping between their fallen. Harry walked with unmeasured and clumsy steps. His hand squeezing hers almost painfully, turning her knuckles white from the pressure. Suddenly, Harry stopped, eyes wide.
"They made me godfather, what's going to happen to Teddy if I- when I-?" Harry shook as he looked at his best friend for answers. She stared back at him, not knowing how to tell him that she didn't know. Because she was Hermione Granger, she was always supposed to know and in this moment she had nothing. "Hermione, I have to go."
"I'll go with you," She said, her voice pleading and soft even to her own ears.
Harry vehemently shook his head. His hands gripping her shoulders. "No, I can't let you do that. You are too important to me-"
Hermione interrupted him sternly. "Wherever you go, I go. That's how we work." She thought about Fred and Remus, about Tonks. About their lives being, in the worst sense of the word, unfinished. "You are all I have, all I've got left and I'm not losing you too."
Harry leaned forward, his forehead falling gently against hers and the twisted metal of his glasses felt cool on her flushed skin. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut and she breathed in deeply, soaking herself in the safety she felt from his scent. Angling his head, Harry kissed her temple.
"I guess we had better come up with a bloody good plan then," Harry thought for a moment. "Do you still have that Time-Turner from third year?"
"Illegally," Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It's dangerous to mess with time, we could get someone killed who would have survived otherwise." Hermione explained. All throughout her third year, McGonagall had been reminding her not to go back further than an hour or two because she could accidentally change important events. And yet here she was, once again, contemplating going back and purposefully changing important events.
"I'm not suggesting we go back hundreds of years or anything, all I'm saying is- bring it with you, just in case." Hermione recognized the desperate look in his eyes. It was the same one he had when they thought Sirius would be executed for a crime he didn't commit.
A determined glint came off the greens of his eyes and Hermione found herself nodding. There was no arguing with him when it came to her safety and she knew it, biting her lip, Hermione repeated, "Just in case."
They didn't say goodbye to anyone. There didn't seem to be anything they could say that would make it okay for the people who cared about them to see them go, so many had died in the war and they were walking to almost certain doom. Hermione didn't want to see the sadness grow behind Ron's eyes as he tried to decide between staying with his grieving family and going with his best friends into the fray.
Avoiding the groups of people, Harry and Hermione took the steps two at a time towards Hermione's sanctuary. The books were scattered around the ground and the floor to ceiling windows were shattered on the hardwood floor. The image was the final nail in her coffin, she couldn't go back to pretending like everything was okay after this. If they survived the final battle, Hermione wondered if she could ever be able to claim sanity again.
Once they had collected the Time-Turner from its hiding spot in the restricted section of the library, Hermione fastened the chain securely around her neck and averted her eyes from the wreckage around her as they walked back towards the courtyard. She noticed Harry holding onto the golden snitch Dumbledore had left him, fingers curled tightly around the remanence of his childhood. Hermione unconsciously walked closer to him.
The Forbidden Forest was eerily quiet, no living creature dared to make a sound as the two wizards walked hand-in-hand. The crunch of leaves and thin branches underneath the soles of their shoes echoed around Hermione's head and she tried to pretend like they were walking towards something better than a demented group of Death Eaters.
When they could no longer see the towers of Hogwarts, Harry tugged her hand into a stop. Harry's face was tense with worry and he took several deep breaths into his lungs before he could speak. "Wait here for a few minutes before you follow."
"And be ready to apparate, I know." Hermione reassured him. "I'm right behind you."
"I'll see you soon then, 'Mione."
Harry disappeared in the underbrush without a sound and Hermione snuck behind him a few moments later. There was a hum of energy in the air, dark and ominous, leaving her with goosebumps along her arms. Hermione ducked lowly, the soft ground almost touching her knees, as she watched her best friend linger at the edge of the clearing.
"I thought he would come," whispered a ghostly voice. The dark figure floated above the ground, pacing in front of the large crowd, pale skin stark against the black robes of his Death Eater army. Voldemort twisted his wand almost anxiously in his thin hands.
Next to him, Bellatrix's wild hair was knotted and piled high on her head, loose curls wavering in the breeze as she shook her head. Her body was angled almost like a puppet as she searched for her Lord's prey in between the trees. Her face breaking in a maniacal grin as she spotted the lone figure as it exited out of the foliage.
Hermione gripped her wand tightly and whispered prayers to any diety who would listen, the tips of her fingers going numb. She watched Hagrid struggle against the ropes and heavy chairs around his throat and arms, calling out for Harry to leave while Rowle and two other masked Death Eaters restrained him.
"Harry Potter," Tom Riddle's face split in a horrifying smile as he stepped closer to Harry with a flourish of his cloak. Hermione crept closer as Voldemort rose his wand with inapt calmness. "The Boy Who Lived, come to die."
She saw his thin lips moving as he uttered the words, reptilian eyes alight with glee. Not being able to wait another second while Harry was in danger, Hermione burst out of hiding behind the trunk of a large tree, "Harry!"
Harry's head snapped towards her as Hermione closed the distance between them and seized his arm in a deathly grip. She closed her eyes and thought of the only place that still felt safe. Hermione felt her best friend hug her tautly as he prepared to apparate away. There was shouting as the feeling of magic wrapped around them, the familiarity of being warped taking over. Hermione heard the rushing steps of Bellatrix as the madwoman tried to reach them.
Before they could fully disappear there was an anguished scream, "Avada Kedavra!"
It all happened in a single moment. Voldemort's spell flew across the glade, green sparks electrocuting the air, leaving behind the pungent scent of death. Her wide, brown eyes tracked the Unforgivable as it travelled towards her, the curse striking her chest. Hermione waited for the pain and darkness to ascend over her but it never came. The Time-Turner glowed a sickly bottle green as it absorbed the magic.
Hermione's eyes widened in horror as the white apparition smoke faded into a mint colour. Suddenly she felt the harsh pull away from the ground, holding onto Harry, Hermione screamed. Burning heat raced through her body- searing at her skin.
Hermione's back hit the ground with a resonating thump, white-hot pain flaring throughout her body. She cried out pitifully as the constant ache set in her bones. Her arms and legs spasmed and she bit down on her lip until the copper taste of blood filled her mouth.
Patting down her chest to make sure she hadn't lost a limb, she tried to blink her eyes open but she was met with nothing but blankness. There was nothing. It was all dark blurs bleeding away her vision. Hermione's hand blindly reached out towards Harry desperately, panic finally seceding when she felt the rough fabric of his coat snag on her fingers.
"Harry…" Her voice was scratched and Hermione barely recognized it as hers.
Hermione waited for another curse to hit her or, hopefully, the caring hands of Madam Pomfrey but neither came. There was just the wet soil soaking her jumper and the quiet songs of birds floating above her. She listened intently, not willing to let her guard down, but the heaviness in her head grew worse and soon Hermione couldn't resist the tug of unconsciousness.
July 13th, 1971
~Minerva McGonagall~
The weather was rubbish in the Highlands of Scotland. Especially for the middle of July, there wasn't a sunny day all week. Thick, smokey grey clouds hid the setting sun, fat drops of rain threatening to fall and drown out the milling of Professors and cast a shadow over the castle grounds. It dampened the Headmistress's mood even further than the mounds of paperwork cluttering her desk were already doing so.
The upcoming school year would start in a few short weeks and Minerva felt woefully unprepared for the new students and returning older years that were out to cause trouble. Even after half a dozen years at the helm of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minerva always felt nervous when the first of September closed in. There were requisition forms to be sent out and a charmed quill writing a letter to each student that would attend. Minerva watched as the ink bled into the elegant swirls of her signature.
A loud crack of thunder made her jump slightly in her cushioned seat and spilling her brass inkwell on the parchment. The rain fell in heavy waves now, washing the grim off of her windows. With a scowl, McGonagall waved her wand over the mess and cast a silent Scourgify. The ink disappeared away from the parchment and Minerva sighed into her hands.
There was another rumble of electricity from the sky but this time it was accompanied with the unmistakable scent of dark magic wafting in the air. Covering her nose with her robe sleeves, Minerva peered outside her window, searching for the cause of the foul odor. It was faint but her advanced animagus senses could still smell it from her office. Hurrying down the stairs, Minerva held her wand at the ready as she walked faster into the dense forest.
There were wards up all around Hogwarts to prevent apparation and prevent certain types of people from entering unnoticed onto the castle grounds. And yet, the further she walked into the Forbidden Forest, the heavier the scent became.
When she found the source of the magic her heart sank. There was a deep scorched crater in the ground, burning away the branches and leaves surrounding it. In the center of the magic emitting, fiery pit were two small figures, huddled together.
A quick wave of her fir send a green spark in the air, signaling the little staff at Hogwarts to her whereabouts. She studied the children. A boy and a girl.
Their clothes were torn, covered in crusted blood and far too large for them. Practically swallowing their tiny bodies whole in fabric. The girls face was round and hidden under a mane of brown curls, a burned line around her neck. Her petite hand held onto the sleeve of the boy's jacket loosely. He had raven coloured hair that dropped over his closed eyes and a pair of broken glasses hanging away from his face.
Minerve didn't recognize either of them from her students- with their strange clothing and wide range of injuries. However, she could smell the different magical energies around them. Some that she couldn't place at all.
Hurried footsteps drew Minerva's attention away from the children and she narrowed her eyes before recognizing the red dress of Madam Pomfrey. Relaxing, she lowered her wand.
"Oh, Merlin's beard! What happened to them?" Poppy stared down at the children with an expression of horror colouring her face. Her blue eyes wide as she stepped towards them, shoes skidding against the dry grass. When the mediwitch held out her hand to stop the Headmistress, Minerva looked at her questioningly.
"I don't know but we had better hurry!" Minerva took a step towards the girl, preparing to lift her in her arms tenderly.
"We had better get these two to the hospital wing carefully, we don't know how bad their injuries are," Minerva nodded and levitated the girl slowly, waiting for Poppy to do the same with the little boy before making the journey back to the castle.
They headed straight to the hospital, quickly scurrying through the empty hallways and flying up the stairs, glad to not be stopped by any of the other staff. When they reached the hospital, both witches gently lowered the children on the nearest beds.
Madam Pomfrey swallowed back her disgust as she waved her wand to check their condition and began to work. The smell of dittany was strong and unpleasant and Minerva scrunched up her nose in distaste.
"Anapneo," Poppy murmured, standing above the children. The little girl took a deep breath and sighed as she relaxed into the mattress. Poppy felt the girls temple for a temperature and continued swishing her wand between them. "Tergeo."
July 14th, 1971
~Hermione Granger~
Hermione's eyes fluttered open, sun rays shining into her eyes. Cringing away from the light, she glanced around the familiar hospital wing. She recognized the lumpiness of the bed and she could smell the Skele-Gro floating in the air. Hermione couldn't remember anyone carrying them out of the Forbidden Forest, but looking around the brightly lantered hospital something felt very wrong. The last time she had been in the hospital it had been covered in wounded and the stench of potions and spells was thick enough to make her eyes water.
But as she looked around now, all Hermione saw were the empty cots littering the room, none of them being put into use. There were no moans of pain, no hurried steps as potions were carried between patients and no violent stench of blood.
Jolting out of the bed, Hermione felt a little dizzy as she looked around for Harry. He had to be there. If he wasn't then- she refused to think what it would mean if he wasn't laying in the hospital next to her. Hermione felt too weak to get out of the bed fully but her eyes were alert and searching as she forced herself to sit up, looking through the pristine covers.
Finally her chocolate eyes landed on a small body twisting on the bed next to hers. Short legs kicked at the wool blankets as the small body twisted and turned in his sleep. A groan escaped the form and Hermione drew closer on instinct.
When she pulled away the fabric from his face, Hermione gasped, loud enough to draw attention to herself. Harry was there but he wasn't Harry. In the traditional sense he was all there. Unruly dark hair, angry scar on his forehead- granted more faded than she had ever seen it, and a slight frown on his mouth even as he slept. Except it wasn't the eighteen year old soldier that dozed away in front of her, it was an eleven year old child. Harry looked exactly like she remembered him the first time they met.
With the sudden and unexpected realization that her best friend had somehow been reverted to a First Year again, Hermione desperately tried to find her wand or a mirror. Anything that could provide her with a reflection, really. Before she could find either she spotted the well dressed witch in the doorway, staring at her imploringly.
Sighing in relief, Hermione sat back against the metal headboard of her bed. She felt the calming presence from her favourite Transfiguration professor. "Professor McGonagall! Thank Circe you're here, what's happening?"
"I was hoping you could tell me that, Miss..?" Worry sunk into the young girl in the hospital bed and she shook her head in confusion.
When she didn't feel the weight around her neck, Hermione reached up to grasp the Time-Turner in her chubby hands. Horrified when she found nothing but air in its place and felt the sharp sting as her fingers touched a fresh burn around her throat, she pulled her hand away.
"Granger. Hermione Granger." She replied, eyes downcast.
"Miss Granger, I'm sure you understand my uncertainty. You appeared out of thin air, injured and we had to rush you both here." Minerva furrowed her brows as she continued to look at Hermione. "Now I realize you know who I am but I don't recall ever meeting you before."
"Yes, Professor. I do believe that Harry and I have made quite a mess of things." Hermione started quietly, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy next to her with her hysterically rising voice. Godric knew how long it had been since he could sleep in an actual bed without worrying about Death Eaters.
"Miss Granger," Her former Transfiguration Professor pressed lightly.
"We were fighting Voldemort. In May of 1998." Minerva looked at her quizzically and Hermione felt her eyes water. "We were in the Forbidden Forest and I tried to apparate us away but the Killing Curse hit my Time-Turner and-" She choked on a wayward sob before she could stop herself. "Then I woke up here."
"Voldemort is only a story to scare children," She said with a knowing look on her face. McGonagall rubbed the bridge of her nose while she mulled over the story. "Am I right to assume that you are not an eleven year old?"
"Yes, ma'am." Hermione shook her head.
"We found this next to the two of you," Minerva pulled a broken snitch out of a pocket in her robes. The ball had a deep gash melted towards the hallow center. On the surviving side there was text that Hermione could barely read, she made out the words 'I open at the close' in neat script. "Do you know what it means?"
Shaking her head, Hermione handed the Quidditch memorabilia back. "No, it was a gift to Harry." Left in Dumbledore's will, she added mentally.
Harry stirred and Hermione watched him as he carefully pushed himself on his elbows, gaping at his fingers and miniature hands in the process. When his eyes finally found hers, he blinked several times, taking in the eleven year old girl he had met so long ago.
Harry gaped at his best friend,"I'm either dreaming or the afterlife is a lot weirder than I was led to believe and I want to go back."
"I do believe a more accurate explanation of your situation would be that you traveled back in time and find yourself in a younger version of yourself," McGonagall offered the confused child as Harry tried to assess the situation properly.
"How far back have we gone?" Hermione asked quietly, not entirely sure she wanted to know but needing the information anyways.
"Twenty-seven years. Give or take a couple of months." Hermione and Harry exchanged worried looks before glancing back at Professor McGonagall. Harry collapsed back onto the mattress with a resigning sigh. "It is currently July of 1971."
Hermione remembered Harry talking about the years the Marauders and Lily had attended Hogwarts, they had all started in September of 1971. Hermione could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to accept what was happening, she could feel a low buzz of excitement from him. Harry would see his parents, Sirius and Remus again. Alive and well.
Something came to her attention then, chewing on her lip, Hermione frowned. "Professor, we have nowhere to go. Neither of us are born yet and won't be for almost nine years." Harry looked over at her, his green eyes widening at the same realization.
"I had a brother, Robert, his children would be your age about now. I suppose you could take their place and stay here with me, I have a contact in the Ministry that can resolve the problem of identification and the such." At their questioning looks McGonagall waved a dismissive hand. "Robert and his family perished several years ago."
"Thank you, that's very kind of you, Professor." Hermione smiled gratefully. Minerva McGonagall had always been a good person in Hermione's time, but it seemed she was extraordinarily kind even before. Which shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone.
"You cannot call me 'Professor', you're my niece and nephew now. It's Aunt Minerva to both of you." Their surrogate aunt said with a kind smile curling her lips. "You'll have to go by the name McGonagall, of course."
"Harry and Hermione McGonagall, we finally get to be siblings legally." Harry said with a teasing smile playing on his face as he continued to try and adjust. Harry had always been her brother, even if they didn't share a last name until this bizarre moment.
After some deliberation they decided several characteristic changes were necessary to make sure that James and everyone else wouldn't notice the family resemblance. Hermione squeezed Harry's hand as their aunt waited patiently for him to be ready.
Harry touched his black hair lovingly for a second before bowing gently to expose his head to Minerva's wand, the dark strands turning a honey-caramel shade that matched Hermione's. He pulled at the locks before pushing them away from his face and dropping back into the pillow with a huff. His sister tried not to close her eyes as the wand pointed towards her. She felt a warm tingling in her iris' as she rubbed at them.
The older witch conjured a mirror in her hands and held it out to her niece. Tentatively, Hermione plucked the glass out of her hands and turned it towards herself. She looked the same as she had in her First Year. Untamable hair that sprung every which way, olive skin and wide eyes. However, now they weren't a soft brown but a mesmerizing deep green, just like Harry's.
"I'll leave you two to become adjusted," Minerva left the mirror in her hands as she smiled at them gently. Turning from the room she paused in the doorway. "I will arrange for you to have a separate common room for more privacy."
Hermione was thankful for that. After everything that had happened in their lives, between the war and the year of Horcrux hunting, nightmares were something that was expected. It wouldn't be good for anyone to have them separated and screaming in terror.
When she was gone, Hermione left her bed for the warmth and safety of her brothers. Harry still had the same scent, treacle tart and broom wax. An odd combination that somehow fit him better than anything else. Before she could drift away into sleep, she felt him stiffen.
"Do you think that thing is gone from inside my head?" Harry whispered into her hair. He continued to speak without giving her the chance to answer. "I think that Voldemort fulfilled the prophecy. Neither can live while the other survives. I know I'm alive and so is he, but I feel different, lighter. Like this weight is gone from my shoulders."
"I hope you're right," Hermione said quietly. Her mind very much preoccupied by the idea of living her life in the 1970's.
"Oh, bloody hell!" Harry snapped.
"What?" She reached for her wand, clearly expecting a threat. "What's wrong?"
"We have to repeat all of Hogwarts again." He cried in clear dismay. Which only made Hermione laugh into his chest as she closed her eyes and relaxed against him.
To be continued...
Ben Barnes as Sirius, Karen Gillan as Lily, Andrew Garfield as Remus, Aaron Taylor-Johnson as James and Jamie Bell as Peter. Look them up and tell me they don't fit perfectly in a Marauders show.