Albus sighed as he held his copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. The old wizard cast a complicated charm on the book that drained him of the majority of his already limited magical core. The charm would turn the book into a portkey if... if the unthinkable happened. He smiled sadly at the darkness of the curse consuming his magic and life. He took out his will and bequathed the book to one Hermione Jean Granger.

Hermione: May, 2nd 1998 The Department of Mysteries

The veil had looked so tranquil. It wasn't. She was falling. She was being torn in a thousand directions. There was color, wind, screaming, singing and crying. Hermione felt every emotion, every sensation, every pain she had ever felt all at once. She couldn't remember where she was. She was everywhere and everything. She didn't remember the pain of the war, she didn't remember who she was. Then there was sound and light, a storm of color... nothing and everything... and then it was quiet.

Hermione: May, 2nd 1976: The Department of Mysteries

She was lying on smooth stone. There was whispering in the silence. It was peaceful here. There was a flash of golden light. There was a phoenix singing and an old man who knelt and wove his wand above her body. A woman knelt and muttered incantations and joined the old man in waving her wand. There was confusion in their voices. The old man pulled at her sleeve. She was being lifted off the stone. She tried to be worried that she didn't know who they were, or where they were taking her, but couldn't find it in herself to care. She slipped into unconsciousness.

Dumbledore: May, 2nd 1976: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy

Dumbledore sat alone in his office. Around him were sketches and calculations, names and books bound in leather that looked older than the wizard himself.

There was a war coming. Tom Riddle was calling himself Lord Voldemort and building an army. Dumbledore sat alone with a dark sense of deja vue. Alone with all of his past mistakes. Alone with memories of all the lives lost when Grindewald sought the power escape death.

The Headmaster's thoughts were drowned out by Fawkes's urgent trill as the phoenix flew in from the window and landed on Dumbledore's shoulder. He raised his hands above his head and disappeared in a burst of flames.

The chill of the room was the first thing he noticed as the flames from Fawkes's side along apparition dispelled. He pulled his purple and orange dressing gown tighter around himself. He marveled at the large stone archway, the magic coming from it was fading quickly. For a moment he thought he heard Arrianna's voice... Dumbledore followed Fawkes as the bird flew from his shoulder to the child's body lying on the cold marble of the chamber. Dumbledore did not recognize her as a student of Hogwarts. The child's body had sparks of an unfamiliar magic running over it like lightening, a magic the likes of which Dumbledore had only ever seen once before. There was a startling amount of blood pooling beneath her small form.

Dumbledore knelt before the child. He temporarily stopped the bleeding and begun casting diagnostic spells. Fawkes infirmary to summon Poppy. Dumbledore cast a spell to visualize the child's magic and frowned when rather than a glowing sphere centered around her core there were rainbow tendrils of magic running across every inch of her body.

The child's magic was dangerously depleted and entirely delocalized. The Headmaster had never seen anything like this.

Fawkes reappeared with Poppy and flew to the child, singing a comforting lullaby. Poppy knelt beside Dumbledore and took over the diagnostic spells dumbledore had been casting. The child was magically exhausted and drifting in and out of consciousness. She had suffered from numerous cutting curses and had scars that belonged on an auror's body, not a 15 year old child. There was nerve damage indicitave of prolonged torture under the cruciatus. They were horrified.

Dumbledore hoped Tom had not begun recruiting children so young, but he had long ago lost hope that Riddle had any sense of humanity. He lifted her left sleeve and didn't notice poppies accusing glance because he had closed his eyes when he saw her arm. Where the dark mark would've been were the scars of a cursed blade. Scars that spelled the word Mudblood.

When Poppy decided the child was no longer in danger of dying on the stone in front of them, they levitated her small form and walked to the ministry Floo. Albus was thankfull there were no unspeakables at this hour.

While Poppy cleaned layers of blood and dirt off the child Dumbledore set about determining the identity of this mysterious child. A family charm identified her to be Hermione Granger, daughter of muggles. Because the charm used magical signature similarities to determine familial relationships it was unable to determine her parentage.

He would need to contact Professor Vector in the morning. He prayed to Circe that the child's knowledge would add light and not catastrophe to the web of murky destruction that was Vectors arithmancy projections. Merlin knows they could use some light in this darkness.

Hermione: May, 8th 1976 Hogwarts Infirmary

When she awoke she was in a bed. There were hushed voices arguing and she felt her hair being tucked behind her ear. Everything hurt. It hurt to think. She lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Septima Vector: May, 8th 1976 Hogwarts Infirmary

"It's not the right time Headmaster," Septima struggled to keep her voice to a whisper.

The Headmaster was unfazed, "There are so many lives that her knowledge could save, we could've prevented an innocent child's death tonight with the knowledge she possess."

Septima voice was cold and laced with pain so sharp it could cut glass "At what cost Headmaster? You forget yourself."

The arithmancer paused, schooling her face and emotions, " I have spent my entire life learning the intricate magics of arithmancy and time travel. I have lost more than you will ever understand. So trust me when I tell you," her voice lowered to a deadly whisper, "Her secrets are not yours to bear."

Septima sighed and brushed a lock of frizzy hair out of the sleeping child's face. "There will come a time, headmaster, when she will join your fight. I am grateful for your protection but do not overestimate my loyalty. If you ignore my warnings I will take the child, Black's memories, all of the time turners and destroy the veil. You will never see or hear of any again."

The Headmaster looked at the witch in front of him with a cold challenge in his twinkle free eyes, "You knowingly condemn innocents to suffer in the hands of Voldemort. Their blood is on your hands."

Septima wasn't looking at the headmaster when she replied, "If you truly comprehended the dangers of her knowledge you would understand that I would do far worse to prevent the inevitable consequences that would follow if you used her knowledge precipitantly to save those you deemed worthy.You do not have the favour of time headmaster, but she might."

Hermione: June, 14th 1976 Hogwarts Infirmary

She felt as if she had been sleeping for a very very long time. It smelled like a hospital. It felt like a hospital. She wondered if she hit her head and that was why she didn't couldn't remember her name. It was nice here. It was warm and she could feel sunlight on her cheek. She decided she would just stay here and not remember for a while longer.

Hermione: June, 23rd 1976 Hogwarts Infirmary

She woke up screaming. She was at Hogwarts? She was in the infirmary. There were tears on her face. Her eyes were itchy and raw. A woman came running in, waving her wand and muttering spells as she and undid the bandages. There was a red and puffy gash that looked as if it was struggling, and failing, to heal itself. The woman stopped waving her wand and replaced the bandages. She was talking.

"Mrs. Granger I need you to focus on me."

"Hermione I need you to look at me"

So her name was Hermione. That felt right. She was tired. The bed was warm and soft and she wanted to slip away again. Instead she looked at the woman in front of her.

"Can you understand me?"

Hermione tried to tell her mouth to form the words she wanted to say. It wouldn't. She nodded her head. Her head felt heavy.

"Do you know where you are?"

Her mouth formed the word, "Hogwarts" before her brain processed it. Her voice was high and raspy as if it hadn't been used for a long time.

"Do you know how you got here?"

She hesitated and quietly replied, "No."

"Well, I am-"

An image of an older version of this woman surrounded by blood and broken bodies flashed before Hermione's eyes.

She interupted, "-Madame Pomfrey."

The mediwitch looked flustered.

"I... I'm going to call the Headmaster."

Hermione didn't answer. The healer turned to the fireplace and with calm urgency spoke, "Albus she is awake. You should come quickly."

There was a flash of light and then there was pheonix nestled on her shoulder singing her a soft lullaby and an old man looking down at her over his spectacles.

" my name is Albus Dumbledore, do you know who I am as well?" He asked with a pleased curiosity.

Hermione saw the old man laying in a marble casket as it was lowered into the ground.

Hermione's face twisted into a grimace, "Albus Wulfric percival Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Leader of the Order of the Phoenix. Owner of the Elder wand. Defeater of Grindelwald.."

Dumbledore:

Dumbledore's eyes stopped sparkling behind his half moon spectacles. She should not know those things. He had been unsure before... but he needed to know... he must protect the light. Failure was not an option. He needed to see... to know...he looked into her mind and was assaulted by a torrent of colors and sounds and pain- he withdrew himself from her mind and stumbled backwards.

He regained his composure and was calm for a minute before he looked up at her with a sad smile and spoke, "Miss. Granger do you know how you got here?"

"No."

"Do you remember where you came from?"

She came from Blood. Destruction. Death. Pain. War.

Her eyes were pained and hollow but she did not respond.

Dumbledore had seen the storm of color before. He had seen it two years ago when on a dark night where he had broken into Septima office and looked at the future in an older Sirius black's memories. He saw it when he tried to piece together Sirius's nightmares. Dumbledore knew better than to mess with time but there were nights when there seemed no way out, no hope, nights where albus needed to see, needed to know... something... anything... that would let him put an end to all the suffering. Another family had been murdered last night. The image of the six year old child with her hands covered in the blood of her brother as she tried to keep him from bleeding out from a curse he knew his own spy created... That would haunt the professor for all of his days.

Dumbledore pushed the darkness out of his mind and focused on the child in front of him.

"You seem to have been in a battle? Can you tell me anything about how you got these wounds?"

She didn't respond and Dumbledore sighed.

"I both hope and fear that your memories will return to you with haste my child"

Dumbledore nodded to Poppy and the mediwitch poured a heavy dose of dreamless sleep down Hermione's throat.

Hermione: June, 28th 1976 Hogwarts Infirmary

Hermione was awoken by the headmaster's voice "Sirius this is important, I need you to tell me if you've recognize this girl."

She lay still.

Silence.

"I know about your nightmares Sirius. They aren't... they..." -the Headmaster took a breath- "I need you to tell me if you recognize this girl."

There was a long pause and then another voice, low and broken, "yes".

The headmaster hesitated, "Does she..."

The voice was cold and distant, "I don't remember," there were angry footsteps and the sound of a door slamming.

And then it was quiet again. Hermione's shed a single tear. The voice... There was only one person in the whole world whose voice that could've been. Even 15 years in the past he sounded exactly the same... A memory she had worked so hard to suppress came crashing to the forefront of her mind.
It had been was the night before the full moon and she had been curled up in the library with a hot chocolate hiding from everyone. Everyone tried so hard to pretend the wasn't a war going on. Molly especially. The matronly witch would try to keep the 'children' occupied by having them clean every-god-forsaken-corner of the place. She was tired of the hushed conversations and the pitying looks. The Weaslys were kind enough but she was tired of always intruding in a family she wasn't a part of in a world she would never truly belong in.

Sirius had been sitting in the other corner with a pile of Fred and George's latest creations, running some sort of test on them. Sirius, while a little off since Azkaban, was still a brilliant Wizard and it was a waste to have him running quality control tests when he could be...

She had a brilliant idea, "Sirius do you think you could extened the mauraders map?"

Sirius chuckled condescendingly, "Is the prefect looking to cause some mischef?"

"No. I'm rather busy trying to keep my friends, your godson, alive." Hermione spat. It was a low blow, and she knew it. She knew that was the one thing she could say that would hurt Sirius more than anything else. The man lived for Harry, he would do anything for his godson and being trapped in here, unable to protect him... Well he wasn't handling it much better than she was. She was so tired of pretending there wasn't a war going on. People were dying, Voldemort was growing more powerfull while they sat here and cleaned.

"Stand up Hermione." Sirius said without a hint of emotion.

"Why?"Hermione said, supressing the shudder of fear caused by the cold emptyness in the powerful wizard's eyes.

"That's what you want right? A fight? A dummy to practice all of the grey curses you've been studying?" Sirius smirked, "I live here Hermione, I know this library better than the back of my hand. I know excatly what you've been reading," He snatched the book out of Hermione's lap and let the cover fall, flipping through the pages mockingly, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I wonder if the great Albus Dumbledore would allow you to continue your friendship with Harry if he knew how far you have fallen."

"How dare you!" Hermione seethed, "We aren't mindless pawns, our friendship isn't some strategic move! Harry is my-"

"And that's where you are so very wrong darling," Sirius stormy gray eyes went black, "because Harry does not belong to anyone but Dumbledore. He may be the not be a pawn in our little game of light and dark but we. are. all. pieces."

Hermione stood then, magic cursing through her veins, "What do you want Sirius?"

"I want this god damn war to be over. I want my godson to be able to live."

Hermione responded by casting wards to keep any spell fire from harming the priceless tomes they were surronded in.

"What are you doing?" Sirius whispered angrily.

"You want this war to be over? Stop letting the order treat Harry, Ron and I like children. Teach us how to end it."

"Teach you how to defeat a man unmatched by Dumbledore himself?" Sirius scoffed.

"Yes." Hermione said with fire dancing in her eyes as she cast the last warding spell, "Reducto!"

Sirius errected a sheild reflexivley and Hermione's curse bounced off harmlesly.

"Deprimo! Densaugeo! Expulso!" Hermione cried throwing all of her angry magic into the curses.

Sirius dodged them all, and then he disapeared. Hermione growled in frustration and whispered "Aguamenti," and spun around, trying to locate the disillusioned wizard by where the water was deflected from. Suddenley a sheild charm caused the water from the spell to come back at Hermione full force, knocking the wind out of her and pushing her backward.

She stumbled and she felt the tip of a wand press into her neck.

"Checkmate."

Hermione's heart beat a little faster. She paused and then tried to duck below Sirius's wand but before she could move his arm wrapped around her shoulders bringing her back flush against his chest.

There was a shock of magic that rippled between them.

Sirius dropped his wand and pulled back like he had been hit by lighting, "What the Hell was that?" He whispered.

Sirius: June, 28th 1976 Hogwarts

Sirius slammed the door to the infirmary, leaned against the stone wall and sank to the floor. Images of the girl lying in the infirmary, healthy and standing by a hippogriff, his mother calling her terrible names, her in the shrieking shack, adult death eaters throwing curses at her in a marble room. She was important... she had.. The dreams melted further into his unconsciousness the harder he tried to pull the broken images of the girl to the front of his mind...

She wasn't real. She couldn't be real. There was no way she could've been in those places. She was a figment of his imagination.

If she was real that meant... No. The nightmares were nightmares. Nothing more than hopes and fears woven together in his subconscious. He must have seen her in Diagon Alley years ago and created these impossible fantasies. Why was she here? Why was she in a coma? Why did she feel important...

Sirius knew how exactly how addictive dreamless sleep potion was. And he knew exactly how many nights he passed since he had been able to sleep without it. Too fucking many. Tonight though he couldn't quite find it in himself to care. He was damned if he was going to let the hauntingly beautiful girl lying helpless in the infirmary into nightmares tonight.

With steely determination and a blank mind Sirius stalked back the fifth year dorm and nicked james' invisibility cloak from his trunk, threw it over himself and slipped back out of gryffindor tower. Sirius crept down to the dungeons, transformed into padfoot, and slipped through the wards of Professor Slughorn's private potion storeroom. He regained his human form to pour one large dose of dreamless sleep in a cup he transfigured from a piece of blank parchment left on one of the benches. He slipped back out of the wards as easily as he came.

Sirius made it most of the way back to gryffindor tower before he lost the control and felt the tell tale sparks of magic run up and down his body as he lost control of his emotions. He was too fucking old for this. There was a war brewing and he was fucking incapacitated by a girl from his nightmares. If he couldn't face some girl in lying in the infirmary how the hell was he to supposed stand against his psychotic family in the war that Sirius knew was coming.

The suit of armour to Sirius's left shattered into a million pieces and he wanted to scream but instead he pulled out his wand and began to reassemble the pieces of armour. Despite Sirius's considerable talent for transfiguration it took almost five minutes to piece the suit back together. As an afterthought Sirius turned the armour neon pink, replaced the sigil on the shield with words "Grease Police", transfigured a parchment with a picture of snivellus' face under the word "WANTED". He summoned a bottle of shampoo and placed both in the suit of armour's hand. He smiled with cold eyes at his work and layered a sticking, stasis and impervious charm on top of the suit. Dumbledore could easily undo it but filch wouldn't be able to touch it. Sirius walked the rest of the way up to gryffindor tower under the cloak, crawled into his bed, drew the curtains, drank the stolen potion and slipped into a blissfully nightmare-free sleep.