Magic throughout Time

Summary: With the battle of Hogwarts going and Death-eaters hot on her trail, Hermione slips away to the Room of Requirement after the fire that broke out to see if it still worked; but with a little magic from a powerful Ancestor. Hermione is pulled into the era of King Henry VIII, why she's there shakes her to the core. She has to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life, plunging England into a bloodthirsty era.

…

"…to wish myself in my sweetheart's arms, whose pretty ducks

I trust shortly to kiss."

King Henry VIII's to Anne Boleyn

…

Chapter 1:

Hermione Jane Granger was many things; smart, loving, a lover of books, an all over achiever and one of the best friends to Harry Potter, the boy who lived.

She would fight for her friends and for her survival, and that was what she was doing now as she ran through the crumbling hallways and corridors of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry- the place that she had called her second home for seven years with Death eaters hot on her trail.

This was not supposed to happen, it wasn't part of the plan to get separated from Ron, Harry or Ginny; but yet here she was tired, scared, bruised and alone fighting left, right and centre to survive and see her friends once more. Every corner she turned, she could hear the shouts of jinxes, curses and the many last cries of the fallen; still she didn't slow down as a purple light, belonging to a curse flew over her right shoulder missing her by mere inches.

Gasping, Hermione sent a curse back and heard a small howl of pain as the curse connected with the Death eater behind her; rounding another corner, Hermione sighted a door closest to her. She ran full speed into the room, slammed the door shut and placed silent and protective charms around it.

Still on her guard though needing a time to catch her breath, Hermione leaned against the wall near the door, closing her eyes and fell to the floor as tears filled her eyes.

After a moment or so went passed, Hermione got to her feet to see which room apparently gave her the safe haven she was so desperately wanted, and gasped in shock.

She was in the Room of Requirement, apparently even after the uncontrollable fire that broke out; it still was able to work. Hermione then froze as whispers started to fill the air; grasping her wand tightly as her curiosity got the better of her, she followed where the whispers were coming from.

"Hello?" Hermione called out, noticing that the room was darkening. "Lumos… Is anyone there?"

Hermione…. Come to us… Come to us, Hermione…

"Hello?" Hermione called again, noticing a curtain just barely touching the ground and hiding from her eyesight; the whispers were coming from there; pulling back the curtains Hermione gasp as a cabinet was staring back at her, the Vanishing cabinet.

Step inside… Step inside, Hermione…

As if her feet had a mind of their own, Hermione stepped into the vanishing cabinet; she felt as if she was apparating within the cabinet. But there was no way she could apparate, right?

Well Hogwarts protective charms were down, so it was now easy for people to pop in and out as they like, but could you apparate inside the Room of Requirement?

Welcome, Hermione….

"Who… What is happening?" Hermione gasped, she then fell out of the cabinet and found herself in a large, bright, white room. "What the…? Am I dead?"

Not if you choose to be…

"I survive curses, jinxes and hexes from Death eaters and I die just by stepping into a bloody cupboard?"

We said if you choose to die, not saying that you are…

"Well thank you for giving me a choice! Can I go now?"

You cannot go back…

"Who are you? Why can't I go back?" Hermione said to the whispers floating around the room, she started to get slightly annoyed at the fact that she was speaking to nothing but whispers.

We are your ancestors and we have chosen you to do one special task for us, we want you to re-right the wrongs that were done so long ago…

"Re-right the wrongs? What do you mean?" Hermione said, sounding slightly curious and sat down on the large, smooth looking boulder that had magically appeared.

You will need to go back in time and rewrite history for both Magical and Muggle alike…

"What? Travel back in time? Why…"

It is written in history that King Henry marries Anne Boleyn and makes her his Queen… This was not supposed to happen, he was supposed to have married Lady Jane Seymour but through the Boleyn's jealousy and many manipulations he married the wrong woman.

"But marries her anyway, after Anne."

True… But she was not supposed to die within childbirth. She was supposed to be his only other wife; King Henry VIII was only supposed to have two wives. Katherine of Aragon and Jane Seymour.

"If he chose to marry Jane instead of Anne Boleyn, what would happen to Katherine of Aragon, the Queen?"

Katherine would've signed the treaty stating that her marriage to Henry was false and invalid, she would've given the tittle of Queen and the jewels along with that tittle to Jane, travel back to Spain along with the Princess Mary in peace and proceed to see through the treaty between England and Spain.

"What does this have to do with me?"

You will have to go back in time and make sure that Katherine and Mary travels back to Spain, you cannot allow Anne Boleyn to hold the King's heart, you and you alone shall be the holder of the King's heart.

"Me?" Hermione muttered, pointing at herself. "I'm nothing, why would the King wish to have me as Queen? I'm not a pureblood witch or even as pretty as Anne Boleyn or Jane Seymour. Why me?"

Because child… The whispers said as Hermione looked up as if someone was stroking her face in a loving, caring, motherly way. You are a descendant of the Great Rowena Ravenclaw.

"What?" Hermione replied, her mouth dropping open. "But I can't be… She was a pureblood and I'm a muggleborn witch… A mudblood."

Yes, Rowena was a pureblood witch but throughout time she had a child that could not do any magic at all, through time Rowena's non-magical child's children's children started showing signs of magic and it starts from there… You are the one we need to save England from this horrid future.

"How?"

We can help you… But before you could any of this, you must first capture the King's heart and hold it for yourself; you may also need to fight for his love against many of his mistresses within the court but once you have his heart then he will not have any need for those mistresses and they will be sent away from court.

"Will I need magic to help me through this?"

All of your knowledge, intelligence and magical skills are both wasted and not needed; you will have no need for your wand but only use wand less magic.

"Wand-less?"

Once you accept this mission you will not have any memory of your past life, you will be thrown into the life a blacksmith's daughter who you resemble and have the same name. The King will be hunting today, you would have a non-fatal horse-riding accident where the King will be the one to save you.

"But…"

Hermione… You need to do this, no else can…

"Okay, okay…" Hermione muttered, getting to her feet and slightly was shocked as her normal twenty-first century clothing was replaced by that of an old, worn out dark green riding habit and riding gloves. "I accept."

Hermione then slightly screamed as a ball of light was zooming towards her, and she found herself on a white Mare, that bucking and trying to remove Hermione from it, she then felt herself get thrown from the horses back, landing into someone's body and Hermione knew no more.

….

The King of England had grown tired of the schemes that many people within his court planned, yet they thought that he knew none of them at all; did they really think he was that naive and stupid, he was neither his father nor his uncle, which walked into many plots and schemes that ended badly for them, death.

He knew of the plot to place one of the Boleyn girls into his sights and possible into his bed, he grown tired of Mary Boleyn; maybe it was Anne they were plotting to place into his bed and give him sons that could never take the throne.

None of the courts knew that he had spies within the families living within the castle, and they were paid a large amount to keep their mouths firmly shut or be put to death, he did not place them there for the gossip spreading around like an untamed, wildfire; but mainly for his protection and the protection of his country.

So here, the King was, riding his most prized and trusted stallion money could buy, riding through the forest just beyond the castle walls; taking up the time to get away from the rumours, idle gossips of the court and the failures of heirs that Katherine was giving him.

Along for the day's hunt was Lord Charles Brandon, a man he known through childhood; Sir George Boleyn, a few good huntsmen, trackers with bloodhounds and guards for protection.

"Have you heard, your majesty, that my dearly beloved cousin, Margret will be joining court as one of the ladies of the Queen." George stated as he tried to start a small conversation with the King and rode beside him. "Another beauty to fill the court, wouldn't you say?"

"What use would my court or the court of the Queen would have for another Boleyn woman?" Henry replied with a slight annoyed but saucy chuckle. "Do tell, how does her beauty dwells? Is she as pretty as Mary and Anne?"

"She has the features of Anne and Mary put together, some would mistake her for their young sister."

"What age is this cousin of yours?" Charles asked, as the King's eyes slightly narrowed towards Charles. "Of course, I'm fairly just asking since I am already married to Jane Seymour."

"How does the Lady like the tittle of wife and Duchess of Suffolk?" Henry asked, changing the topic and inwardly smiled at George's annoyed look.

"She finds it fitted, your majesty."

To Henry's right, he seen a flash of white, brown and green; he turned to face where it was and noticed that a girl was having trouble with her horse, which was white.

"Look, over there beyond the field." Henry stated, making both men face in the direction that Henry was facing. "That child seems to be having trouble with her Mare."

"Should we send some guards to save her from a fatal accident, my lord?" George asked, as he sent a signal to the nearest and closet guards; but Henry shook his head.

"They will not reach her in time." Henry replied, as he turned his horse in the direction of the girl. "But I will, my stallion is the fastest out of the lot."

Before George or Charles could blink, the King was of galloping towards the girl who was now just about to get thrown from her horse, he heard the sounding of dogs and men advancing after him to see what had caught the King's eye; Henry urged his stallion to go faster as the girl was thrown off her horse, quickly he removed himself from his stallion and caught the girl before she could do some damage to herself.

The girl opened her eyes, looked at the King and slightly fell unconscious within his arms; he turned to find that Charles, George and two guards have finally caught up to him and the unknown, unconscious beauty that was in his arms.

"Is she alive?"

"Yes, she is just unconscious." Henry replied, getting to his feet and holding the girl close to him; he then turned to face the closet guard. "Take her back to the castle, set her up in a chamber nearest mine and notify Lord Redfern about our unexpected guest, also keep me informed of her wellbeing."

"Yes, your majesty." The guards replied, as the nearest guard picked the girl up as she weighed nothing but a light saddle-bag and rode back towards the castle.

Henry suddenly found himself all alone, just who was this beauty and why hadn't he seen her at court?

Surely a father couldn't keep such a beauty from court all of this time?

To Henry, the rest of the hunt went by as if it was nothing but a blur; Charles gave him the right to give the final killing stroke to the stag that he had caught. The hunting party noticed that the King's attention was elsewhere, probably trying to figure out who the girl was; then it was suddenly replaced by his eagerness to get back to the castle.

On the ride back to the castle, Henry found himself thinking of the girl he had saved from the horse; which a huntsman found later on a few miles north towards Whitehall, he was thinking of the way her golden brunette locks fell out as if it was nothing but a waterfall, her creamy skin, plump looking lips and her dark, cinnamon brown eyes that he only seen for a fraction of a second yet they were haunting him.

He wanted to know who this girl was, and he wanted to know now.