Notes:
The chapters will sometimes start with some sort of flashback showing you why Harry and Hermione are now alone and desperate to find some way to fix their present (or is it future now?) It's to better understand some references that will leave you pretty much in the dark otherwise.
I'm sorry for any remaining mistakes! I'm searching for a beta, but until I find one… Anyway, enjoy!
ALSO : I said in the Prologue's warnings that this story disregards The Half-Blood Prince and The Deathly Hallows. Well, I kind of lied? It only disregards some things that would've been on the way of the plot… So bear with me people!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.
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RESCRIBO – Chapter One
"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself."
Andy Warhol, The Philosophy of Andy Warhol
Ronald Weasley was not a coward.
He struggled very young to not live in his brothers' shadows, and he tried to assert himself, eventually becoming a talented – although a tad arrogant – young man.
Maybe it was that arrogance that pushed him to accept the dangerous mission to infiltrate the Malfoy Manor…
But Ron knew one thing: they couldn't always ask Harry Potter to sacrifice himself for a good cause. He trusted Zabini with his information – Snape had been a great spy when alive, and Zabini was nowhere near his level, but he was willing enough to help them – and the former Slytherin always knew when to back down from a doomed plan. So it was a determined Ron who Apparated a few miles away from the Manor. He knew what he was doing – we didn't make Auror for naught. Zabini assured the Manor would be empty for at least three hours – something to do with a dark ritual where all the Death Eaters were needed. So he allowed himself two hours to complete his mission. Half an hour to arrive to the Malfoy Manor and infiltrate it; forty-five minutes to look for the Horcrux supposed to be hidden there; half an hour to leave. He also planned a fifteen minutes delay if something was to occur.
As expected, it only took thirty minutes for Ron to reach the Manor, but what he didn't expect was the group of Death Eaters awaiting him in front of the large black wrought iron gates. He took precautions, though! Apparating only several miles away to not be spotted, and according to Zabini, no Death Eater should've been present! Admittedly, Ron wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he wasn't completely stupid either.
He tightened his grip on his wand, glaring at every single Death Eater surrounding him. A sardonic smile tugged at his lips. Obviously, someone had betrayed them. And worst of all, Ron didn't even know if Zabini was the real culprit.
Ron raised his wand and started casting hexes and curses, fighting even though he knew it was the end for him. His only regret was not taking the time to tell Hermione how much he loved her. He would never be able to give her the ring he always carried around in his pocket, trying to summon the courage to ask her to marry him.
He dodged a red flash – Cruciatus, he thought – when a Death Eater pushed a slim looking figure towards him.
"Come on Weasley, show us what you can do."
He didn't have time to say anything as a green light got him on the chest, and his widened eyes met the wet ones of the young Death Eater who just sealed his fate.
Ronald Weasley preferred to believe until the very end that Ginny was put under the Imperius Curse.
xox
Harry drops the heavy spell book in front of Hermione. When she looks up, she can see a new light shining in his eyes – hope. Her heart skips two beats before thumping madly against her breast. She stands up with shaky hands and asks in a chocked voice, "You're done?" He solemnly nods and she needs to take a deep breath to regain her composure. She eventually nods back and anxiously reads the page he's showing her. A few lines down in the text, Hermione can't help but frown at what she's reading.
"This is the final charm allowing a Time-Turner to work… How is it going to help us?"
Harry shakes his head.
"No, it's not quite that… I did some research, this spell reloads a Time-Turner; this is why we can travel back an hour or a day in time. The Time-Turner could work without it, but will only go back a few hours in the past."
Hermione stays still a few seconds, astonished. Not because Harry just told her how a spell works – even though the exchange of roles is a bit strange – but because this was the first time since Ron that Harry spoke that much.
"I understand why we'd need a Reloading Spell, but I don't see how we could travel back that far in the past with a Time-Turner, Harry, it doesn't work like this," she eventually utters, lacking her previous enthusiasm. She really thought he found a way to change everything. Harry's dark smirk catches her attention and she's about to ask him if he's alright when he opens the book at a new page, showing her another spell.
"Rescribo," she reads aloud. "This is…"
Her face goes white and she clings to the edge of the table, feeling her knees wobbling. She looks at him with distress-filled eyes begging him to refute what she knows is the truth.
"Harry… If we cast this spell, we won't ever be able to come back…"
"I know."
Hermione draws in a shaky breath.
"Rescribo… A rewriting… I…"
She swallows. "I don't know if I could do that," is what she wants to tell him. Hermione was sure until now they would only go back in time to kill Voldemort before he could do any harm, and then come back to their changed present, where everything would be alright. Where she would get back to her family, her friends, and Ron.
But as she stares in Harry's tormented eyes, she chocks back on her words. Had there been another way, he wouldn't ask her to sacrifice their present. Because for him, it'd mean give up on meeting his parents for real. She feels selfish and bile rises in her throat. What is the present of two individuals compared to the future of an entire world?
Nothing, and she knows it.
So Hermione does what she always did.
"When do you think we can cast the spells?"
She believes in him.
xox
A week passes before everything is ready. It's been a few hours since Harry went out, and Hermione keeps staring at the hand wearing his name. It points 'Mortal Peril', like every time he steps outside. But as long as it wasn't pointing 'Dead', Hermione knows she doesn't have to worry – much.
Eventually, the hand turns and she holds her breath until it stops on 'Home'. Straight after she can hear footsteps coming towards the living-room where she almost leaps on him, thoroughly checking him as she angrily asks where the hell he's been.
"I went to Gringotts," he hurriedly says to placate her.
Seeing her bewilderment, he explains himself while tossing her a plump purse before pulling off his jacket and putting on the coat she gives him.
"Since our trip will be… permanent… surely you know we'll need resources to survive in a world we know nothing about. So, I emptied my vaults."
She weights up the purse. It's fairly light, she muses.
"Bottomless purse, I guess?"
A shadow of a smile graces his lips before vanishing.
"Of course. But most of it will have to be melted because of their dates."
"Oh, right," she thinks aloud, thankful Bill explained to her how the Wizarding currency was made. "All the coins bear the year of production and the name of the goblin who forged them… I nearly forgot about that. Are you sure it's a good idea to bring them with us? They'll see that two series of the same coins are in circulation…"
"No need to worry, we'll only use the series from the early sixteen-hundreds. I know for a fact that these series were completely untouched by the Potters; they had a lot of other series to go through," he says while making sure they didn't forget anything.
"If you say so. And don't worry about the Melting spells, I know a couple that'll help us."
As one man, they start moving the furniture to leave a large empty space in the middle of the room. They are dressed in plain dark colours, a long coat covering most of their clothes. Hermione earlier shoved two robes in a sac she now keeps to her arm, in case they'd land in the Wizarding World. They don't know where they'll appear, nor do they know if they'll be near their starting point – 12 Grimmauld Place.
While she waits in the centre of the room, Harry draws a circle around them with Floo Powder.
"What's its purpose?"
"An advice I found at the bottom of the page. Our goal is to find Voldemort, so it's more likely we'll find him with the powder guiding us."
She clutches the bag. "Do you know where he is in the past?"
Harry finishes drawing the circle and answers after a short pause, "I think so. Professor Dumbledore showed me, a few years ago… Wool's Orphanage."
He stands up and steps into the circle, his wand drawn out. He was careful to learn the two spells they'd need but never practised them – too many risks. This try will be their only chance to succeed, and he cannot imagine what would happen if he was to make a mistake.
"We need some kind of container so that the spell can load itself… What will we use?" the witch muses aloud, trying to hide her increasing worrisome.
Harry is perfectly aware Hermione knows everything about what they're doing – he saw her reading the spells over and over again to better understand them. But he doesn't say anything and follow her instead on her tactic to hide his own concerns. "Since we don't have a Time-Turner, we'll use my wand."
Hermione looks at him as though he were crazy. The wand's a wizard most important belonging, and when broken, it's always hard to find a good substitute. "What if it's destroyed when we arrive?" she points out.
The silence stretches between them. It's not as if he likes the idea, but it's not as if they have a better choice either. Something magical is needed, and despite all the rubbish artefacts stored in Grimmauld Place, nothing is good enough to realise a spell of this strength. Even a Time-Turner wouldn't have sufficed for them to go back more than fifty years in the past.
Eventually, he shrugs. "I'll play it by ear," he says before adding, less sure, "You ready?"
When she nods, he tightened his grip on his wand, focuses, and casts in a strong voice, "Reverso!"
For a second, they allow themselves to doubt, to think the spell didn't work, but when a bluish light gathers at the tip of his wand, they know they can't doubt anymore. The difficulty for Harry lies in focusing all his attention on the ball of magic taking shape. He knows exactly when he has to cast the second spell for them to land at the right moment in the past… at least, he hopes so.
"Hermione! When I cast the second spell, I want you to say our destination," he yells as the ball of sheer magic rises gusts of wind in their circle. He doesn't have the time to wait and see if she understands. Hoping everything will go as planned, Harry roars the next spell with all his might, changing forever both their destinies.
"RESCRIBO!"
At the same time, he thinks he heard Hermione shouting "Wood's Orphanage!" and widens his eyes, horrified.
There's a flash of light and the next second, 12 Grimmauld Place's living-room gets back to its eerie silence, a burnt circle in its middle marking the previous existence of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
xox
They land in a heap in a dirty back alley, the cold hard floor cutting their breath. Hermione managed to soften her fall by landing on her shoulder. She massages it, wincing, and helps Harry back to his feet, repairing his glasses in a mechanical gesture before he clasps her wrist and pulls her hand down.
"No magic until we know where we are," he whispers, hiding his own – still whole, he notices – wand. She bits her lip and berates herself – she can't believe she forgot such a precaution. Harry glances around the wall leading to the street, looking for something. He turns back to her and asks, exhausted, "What was the destination you shouted?"
"Wood's Orphanage?" she asks more than states.
"It's what I thought."
With a sigh, he remembers the time he said "Diagonally" instead of "Diagon Alley" and finds a bit of hope. If they are lucky, they aren't that far from the orphanage.
Leaving him to his thoughts, Hermione decides to investigate the back alley and finds a newspaper in a dumpster. She leans towards it and reads the date.
"Harry…"
He grunts, showing he's listening.
"What's the year we're supposed to be in?"
"1926," he answers without a pause. "Why?"
She shoves the newspaper in his hands before letting herself slip against the wall down to the floor, weary.
"We're late."
On the Muggle newspaper – considering the unmoving pictures – Harry can read November 29, 1936. He swears, throws the newspaper away and restrains himself from punching the wall, pressing his forehead against the cold bricks instead, next to Hermione.
"How do we do, now, to prevent his birth?"
Hermione is surprised by the words leaving her mouth against her will, in a flat tone, "We could kill him."
A silence follows her statement, and she can feel horror rising through her when she understands that Harry is considering killing a child.
"Harry, that was impulsive, I don't thin-"
"But it's still the only solution."
"No! Harry, you can't kill a child, he hasn't-"
"He would've done it without dithering. He already tried," he argues.
She quickly stands up and takes his hand, putting it against her barely showing belly.
"Don't ask me to do that, Harry… Not when I'm a mother-to-be."
And her voice wavers at the thought that someone could want to take her unborn child's life – Ron's child – even though it's innocent. She feels Harry stiffens and she lets go of his hand. He takes a long breath and stuffs his hands in his coat's pockets.
"Let's go. We've got to find the orphanage to at least keep an eye on him."
In the corner of his eyes, he sees her opening her mouth to reply but he snaps at her, "I'm not going to kill him! I just want to… be sure he won't cause any trouble. We'll see what we'll do with him while going there."
Reassured, she drops her head and follows him, grabbing his elbow to not lose him.
She dares not tell him that for a second, he became the man he loathes the most.
To be continued…
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