An even greater man (in this author's humble opinion) than the previous great man once said, "Humans have a knack for choosing precisely the things that are worst for them."

Sugar. Tobacco. Alcohol. Heroin. They all become hardwired into our brains as something we need, even when they are destroying us.

Ah, but those are the easy things to see. Sometimes it's not so easy. Why do the good girls like the bad boys, for instance? If you ask the girl, she'll say she wants to be treated right and that she wants a good guy to settle down with and take care of her, but in the mean time she sees darkness and danger and she's drawn like a moth to a flame.

It's just some quirk of human nature. Even the best and strongest among us are not immune.

Chapter Eleven Off the Edge of the World

"You're not seriously going to let her do this?" Ron asked for about the hundredth time. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were tired enough of him asking that they didn't even bother glaring at him, or responding in any way. They just kept setting things up for Hermione.

"Ron, come on. I thought you and Harry were best friends, back before..."

"We were! But come on, Hermione. If we start using time travel to fix everything that goes wrong, where do we stop? I mean, who knows what could happen?"

"That's what the old man in my dream said. It already *has* happened!"

"And you're going to trust some dream, all the sudden. I suppose you'll start taking Divination next, and hold séances to get all the right answers on your N.E.W.T.S."

"Of course not!" She glared furiously at him, precisely because she knew just how silly it sounded, and would have reacted the same way to anyone else it had happened to.

"Ron, dear, get over here and help your sister reach that jar on the top shelf, would you?" Molly Weasley interrupted.

"Sure, Mum," he muttered, turning away from Hermione to do as he'd been told.

"Don't be sore," Ginny piped in. "You're just worried because you like her, and you think she's cute, and you're scared you'll never see her again."

"I-what? Am not!" He had just reached the jar, and almost dropped it on his head. "That's not it at all!"

"Ginny, it's not nice to tease your brother when he's doing something that could get himself killed," Mrs. Weasley said, looking a bit amused.

"The point is, I've researched recent history, and I think this Dumbledore person is right! There have been unexplained temporal fluxes, and they all seem to point in the same direction!"

"How would you know? If you're right, and not just completely mental, things would be all changed before anyone could know what's supposed to have happened."

Hermione shook her head. "Not entirely. That seems to be the case with this 'Albus Dumbledore' person. His brother grew up to be a complete mental case, and no one else in his family was at all notable. I can't find much on them at all, but they did exist, and it was apparently a great mystery when he was killed. That was all. No proof that he'd grow up opposing the Dark Arts at all, or anything. With everyone else I've looked into, though, there's a pattern."

"Yeah. They're all dead." Ron handed the jar to his mother and flopped down on the couch. "I don't see why everyone else doesn't see what I do. You've just studied too hard and gone nutty. I've heard it happens to seventh years all the time, and that's why we shouldn't be given so much homework. Especially over vacation!"

"I don't have time to debate this with you, Ron. I'm going. I need to do this, and I do believe I am the only one who can."

"Then I'm going with you," he said, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest.

"You are not!" Ginny protested shrilly. "If anyone is, I am!"

"Neither of you are going," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "You said it yourself, you've got homework, Ron. And without you here, Ginny, how would we keep in touch with Hermione to make sure nothing's gone wrong?"

"I'll take my homework with me, then," Ron said. "Who knows what could happen where she's going? It's always best to have someone you can trust to back you up, isn't it?"

"This is not open for discussion, Ron," Mrs. Weasley said firmly.

"I'm sorry," Hermione mouthed the words to him, really wishing he could go, now, because it probably would be safer to bring someone along. Unfortunately, it would be a lot harder to take someone with her as well, and she hadn't prepared the spell for more than one person alone. Not that the spell needed to be changed if she did, really, but it would be a bit more taxing on her the way she had it set up, so that the time flow would allow her to stay in touch with Ginny as if they were in the same time frame.

If Molly Weasley said no, though, it wasn't really worth working out at all, to see if she could or not. The Weasley matriarch may be a nice woman and sweet as they come, but she was also one of the most stubborn people Hermione had ever met. It was perfectly clear that that's where Ginny had gotten it from, actually, because she was very much like her mother.

Ron shrugged and gave up. "So, when are you planning on doing this thing, then?"

"As soon as possible," Hermione said quietly, opening up a book. "It will take at least another ten minutes."

"That's all? Ten minutes?"

Ginny snickered. "You look like a kicked puppy. Sad that she won't be here the whole time?"

"I thought," Ron began tragically, "well, I mean, at least for presents..."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said again, this time louder than the last. "I have to start as quickly as I can, though. I've done all the research I can, so I know what I'm doing and where I'm going at least. So, I'll be as quick as possible, and maybe it'll only take a couple of days and I'll be back in time for presents."

"You'd better," Ron said, still looking like he wanted to pout. "I can't wait to see your face when you see what I got for you."

"You got me a present?" Her heart skipped a beat, unexpectedly.

"Well, of course I did. You're here for the holidays. Or, at least, you were supposed to be."

"Thank you, Ron." She didn't know what else to do, or to say, so she gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I've left presents for everyone with Ginny, and don't you dare open yours before Christmas, and I hope we really can open them together."

"You'd better get started," Mrs. Weasley said softly, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Ron, in the mean time, was doing a fantastic fish impersonation and holding his cheek. Hermione stifled a giggle and turned, double-checking that she had everything she needed, and then opened her notebook.

"No one cross this line," Hermione instructed, "and nobody touch me once I've started, or you will be dragged along with me, and I'll probably pass out once we get there."

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen," Mrs. Weasley said with a grin.

"Goodbye, everyone. Wish me luck." Hermione smiled a little sadly, but she put on as brave a face as she could.

Everyone waved, and then Mrs. Weasley ushered everyone out of the living room and into the kitchen as Hermione started.

"Mum, there's something I think is important that Hermione made me promise not to tell you until she was gone."

Hermione overheard that as she was in the middle of the long incantation required, but she couldn't let it distract her. It was close enough, after all. It wasn't stoppable at this point. An interruption would only throw off her timing, and no one would want to do that.

It's about that time that fate began twisting things, and sticking her fingers in the pie. It started with a loud knock on the front door that almost made Hermione lose count of how many drops of sage essence she was supposed to drop on the tip of her wand. She missed one drop, which fell on her hand, but she accounted for that and continued. She then dipped the wand in a cup of dried herbs she'd prepared, and began the necessary transfiguration.

"Open up!" someone shouted, even as they smashed down the door.

Hermione could hear Ginny screaming, but she couldn't even afford to look. She was almost done. She wondered if they were from the Ministry of Magic, but if they were then something was terribly wrong. They couldn't have known so quickly, or come so quickly, and they definitely should not be behaving the way they were. Hermione was too distracted to put her finger on it, but she didn't think they were from the Ministry at all.

"Stop it right now! Stop her!" The voice was familiar, though changed by an uncharacteristic undertone of panic.

A handful of wizards in complete black except for skull masks rushed toward her, wands at the ready. They did not cross the line she'd drawn around herself, not knowing what would happen if they did. It was a standard precaution, and usually wise when someone was casting such advanced magic. Two of them glanced back as if asking what to do, while the others shouted at her to stop what she was doing.

"Stop her!" Professor Riddle cried again, shriller and louder than before. "Just do not kill-"

"Hermione!" Ron had run into the room, rushing past the robed figures, the Death Eaters of modern myth and legend who ruled the wizarding world from the shadows.

And that meant Professor Riddle must be their secret leader, whose name was only ever whispered or alluded to in secret as if he would appear like some demon of hell if he heard his name.

Hermione didn't have time to think of anything else. She didn't have time to process her shock. Ron was beside her in an instant to shield her with his own body if need be from whatever curses they cast to stop her.

For a moment it felt as if the world had stopped around them. It was Ron, and it was Hermione, and that was all. He stood merely inches from her, arms outstretched, looking her in the eyes.

"I won't let anything hurt you."

Hermione stared at him, nodding, and then hugged him tight as she felt the spell take hold. "I know," she whispered.

An eternal instant later, the world went crazy around them, and it felt as if they'd stepped off the edge of the world.