(Beckett the Buckett, Nov. 1731)

A man sat quaint and undisturbed at his desk signing papers, organizing his thoughts and whistling quietly a cheerful tune. The moment was interrupted when a resounding thump echoed from inside of the fireplace that sat across the room, a cloud of grey dust thickened the surrounding air. He dropped his pen, stood from his seat and tilted his head so as to get a better look at what was emerging from the soot.

Keeping his attention on the rustling noise that came from the fireplace, he opened a box from on top of his desk and retrieved his pistol. Holding it up to the grey cloud, he watched wide-eyed as a figure immerged from the dust. A feminine cough resonated from within. The man squinted his eyes in confusion, licking his lips with a nervousness that tickled him.

"Who goes there? Make yourself known. I am armed and ready to fire." He warned shakily, hardly able to hold his aim.

"Don't shoot," Hermione wheezed as the smoke cleared, fanning the grey powder from the air about her head. The man realized that the woman was not a threat and set down his pistol in order to come to her aid. He held what he recognized to be her arm, allowing her to rest her weight on him as he led her toward the nearest chair.

"What- where did you come from? You weren't sweeping the chimney, we're you?" He asked, surprised.

"Um, actually, I can't remember. I must've hit my head on the way down." She lied, unable to conjure up a quick excuse that would prove reliable.

"I see..." The man said. "Come sit, madam." He motioned toward a chair to where she took a seat. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Cutler Beckett, in case you don't recognize me. Can I get you anything? Should I fetch a doctor?"

"I'm fine. Just fine, maybe time will be kind to me and I can slowly recall things." She nervously tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Hermione kept quiet as he continued to speak. At the moment she was entirely too preoccupied with trying to understand why her surroundings appeared the way that they did. The man had a brown wig that was tied into a bow at the back, a blouse that resembled that of one from the days of George II, an embroidered vest and buckled leather shoes.

"Water?" His voice broke through her thoughts.

"Yes please." She said quietly, watching him as he carefully poured her a glass of water. She accepted it gratefully.

"Where here in Port Royal do you live?" He asked, disrupting her thoughts. She could tell he was studying her as well.

Hermione paused as if trying to recall something. "I can't... I can't recall."

"Well, in the meantime, I would be honored if you stayed as a guest in my home." He gestured kindly.

"I would hate to impose-" Hermione led on, knowing very well that she had no alternative and that she really did want to stay.

He shook his head. "Nonsense. I will have someone ready you a room. In the meantime, I must get back to my work, Miss Granger. I will have one of our maids get you situated and have your wounds cleaned."

Their attention was turned to a young man entering the room, dressed in uniform. "Sir, I have these letters for you from the governor. Your presence is needed in Puerto Rico as soon as physically possible."

"Thank you, Thomas. I must leave you, Hermione, I shall accompany you later. Until then I have some business to take care of." He explained before leaving, the uniformed boy following behind. As soon as she was sure he was out of sight, she dropped her casual appearance and bolted to the fireplace, attempting to recover the remains of the FLOO powder. Where had it taken her, exactly? Since when did it travel back in time rather than from place to place? The department of magical transportation constantly monitored the network, and unless for some reason someone in the ministry wanted to get rid of her, it shouldn't have done anything. Yaxley possibly, but just as equally guilty as Umbridge would have been.

By great chance their intentions were in fact to get rid of her, being one less person in the way of Harry Potter. It all made sense now, but how would she get back? She scavenged her pockets, finding her wand and her Time Turner. The Time Turner was warped. Hermione's heart sunk into her stomach. This would mean that unless she could mend it, she would have almost no chance whatsoever of returning home.

Talking aloud, but all too quickly to be understood by anyone else, she reminded herself that any form of influence on the nobleman could prove disastrous. For now, she decided that laying low would be her best bet. No drastic actions because the smallest things could change the course of history as it stood. She recalled reading books, some about people who traveled back in time, and how was she any different?

Pacing about the room, she pondered her predicament, searching her mind for any ideas on her next move.

After minutes of nothing, she plumped back down into her chair, "It's no use..." She complained, "Positive, Hermione, think positive."

She closed her eyes, listening without distraction. The many French doors along the wall let in a calm breeze, carrying the warm sea air- sea air?

Standing up, she rushed through the doors and out onto a luxurious vine-covered patio. Beyond the railing of the patio was an ever-extending beach lined with palm trees. In the distance there were large merchant ships that all bore the colors of the British navy. Judging by other obvious clues, she determined here to be a tropical region. Port Royal, she recalled him mentioning.

She turned upon remembering Beckett sitting at his desk when she had first 'arrived'. Walking quickly over to the desk, she snatched up the first set of papers that had caught her eye. They were all old and written on with quill and ink with a red candle wax seal at the top of the page marked a familiar logo.

She immediately began searching her memory of muggle history, trying to recall this symbol. The it hit her. "The East India Company!" She yelled out in epiphany before reminding herself to keep quiet.

Down at the bottom of the page was a signature of the man, Cutler Beckett. Beneath the name, a date. Her eyes widened and she began to feel dizzy. November 1731?


That evening, Hermione slept in the night gown that had been given to her. She had stitches in her arm that were quite painful from when the maid had dressed it, but she was thankful to have it tended to nonetheless. She observed the stitches, sitting in the window of her very own room, overlooking the bustling Caribbean harbor. Though, she couldn't fully enjoy her view. Her thoughts were on her peculiar means of arrival to where she was. Obviously, she had been a victim of some freak FLOO Network mishap. She assumed it surely had something to do with her Time Turner being in her hand at the time she had fallen into the fireplace as well. However, she deduced that at this point, it wasn't how she arrived there that mattered most. What mattered most to her would be her means of getting back.

Luckily, she was able to slip her wand and Time Turner past the maid and was able to hide them in a small bag that she had found in the drawer of her room. Hermione searched desperately through her thoughts to find some way back to her home time, but it seemed hopeless. If she could somehow find a way to Europe, then Hogwarts, that would be brilliant, but incredibly difficult. At this point in time, she recalled from her studies, the British East India Trading Company controlled all of the Caribbean. Patrol ships would be everywhere and all traveling vessels searched thoroughly for trespassing smugglers and escaped slaves.

Hermione left her perch at the window, shutting it as she made her way to her bed. She admitted, she loved having a room of her own. If she had been sent to nearly any other destination in space and time, she may not have been as luck to have the luxuries she currently had. Surely, she would make an escape soon, but would it really be so bad if she took her time?

*Thoughts? Opinions? Do y'all like me editing my original chapters? Let me know what you think in the comments! I felt a little all over the place with this chapter, so I went back and kept the original events (I had changed them when I first started editing). Hopefully I'll be able to update daily! XOXO- Kelsey*