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Perhentian

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Chapter 1 - July 1987

Hermione nervously fiddled with her dress and felt her heart begin to beat faster as she looked at the sign announcing "Privet Drive". If she was wrong, the consequences would be catastrophic. And she was sure to be a least partially wrong, because she had yet to understand fully how she had ended up there in the first place. There being her own younger-self.

But Hermione had come to the conclusion that the only person who could confirm or refute her assumptions was a certain Harry James Potter. Her lips thinned at the thought of her friend. It had been six years since the last time she had seen him, and her anger was not fading. Every day since she had opened her eyes in her two years old body on the 31st of October 1981, she had brooded over what had happened.

And among all her theories, the most likely led indisputably to Harry due to the date. Or to Voldemort, but Hermione absolutely refused to think of the catastrophe that it would be if Voldemort had somehow managed to get a new chance.

That was why she currently was not so far from the Dursley's home, hesitating to approach further, for fear of destroying by this action the spatiotemporal coherence of the whole universe. But all she knew about time-travel had absolutely nothing explaining how she could have waken-up in her two years old body fifty-nine years in the past, with all the memories of the sixty-one years she had previously lived.

Finally, Hermione cautiously approached the number 4 of the street. She had been thinking for days about how to get to Harry and talk to him out of reach of his horrible adoptive family. But luck seemed to be on her side, as she spotted Harry trimming the hedge in front of the house, with no trace of his cousin, aunt, or atrocious uncle .

She slowly moved closer, stopping just a short distance from him. He looked so young, in this body that would soon celebrate its seventh year. Thin, frail even, with his black hair as unruly as ever.

"Harry?" she called, her voice slightly uncertain.

The head of the young boy snapped up and his piercing gaze darted towards her. Then he recognized her and his jaw dropped.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed.

He jumped from behind the hedge, and rushed to her as a smile lit up his face. She had no time to react that he was already wrapping his arms around her, squeezing her with unsuspected strength while laughing .

"I'm so, so happy to see you!" he whispered.

He then kissed her on both cheeks, before letting go of her. Relief had first overwhelmed Hermione. She was not alone anymore in this situation. She would have at least some answers soon. And her more frightening theories were void.

But now that Harry's reaction had set her mind at rest, she felt her exasperation of the last six years take over. The first very confusing moments. The hours of uncertainty. The exasperation of having to play the role of a child when she was actually older than her parents. And the fear she had felt each day for not knowing what had happened to her friends and her children, to all the wizards who had been struggling with the magical source when she had suddenly disappeared.

"Harry James Potter," she began, carefully separating each word.

She noticed with satisfaction Harry's smile vanishing, but to her utmost aggravation it only gave way to Harry's joyous laugh.

"I had forgotten how your hair grew wild when you were angry," Harry said.

Hermione glared at him and decided to ignore his comment completely.

"Care to explain why I suddenly passed from a Fluctuant Magical Zone to the arms of my mother, back to my two years old body? Abandoning behind me not only my friends, my children and my grandchildren, but also all the other people who were counting on us? Endangering the spatiotemporal coherence of our whole world?"

"Calm down Hermione," Harry interrupted her in a slightly more serious tone. "We cannot talk of those things here. Petunia is in the kitchen and Dudley in the living room, and they can go out at any time."

Hermione looked quickly at Harry's house, but no one seemed to be observing them right now.

"Then find me a place where I can vent as much as I want," she said bossily.

Another dazzling smile illuminated Harry's features, and Hermione could not help but smile back. Harry dragged her with him inside the Dursley's garden, and then to the shed in the back. They slipped into it and seated themselves carefully on two buckets turned upside down .

"Your aunt isn't going to realize that you're not trimming the hedge?" Hermione asked with concern.

Harry had never been very talkative about his life with the Dursley, but Hermione had soon realized that it was quite far from pleasant. Harry had not been an abused child, no, but he had without a doubt been a neglected one. And despite Hermione's desire to punch him for this stupid situation he had initiated, she did not really want to cause any problem to her friend.

"She won't care. I'm gardening because it kind of distracts me. Few parlour tricks here and there when they were despicable have kept my family at bay. They'd rather ignore me than ask anything of me."

Hermione looked at him with an horrified look. Harry was such a reckless idiot sometimes!

"But, but, the Trace?" she stammered. "You're not Muggleborn, you must have the Trace, don't you?"

She had been outraged when right after giving birth to her daughter Rose in St. Mungo's, the mediwitches had placed the ministerial Trace on her baby. She herself had not been subjected to it until McGonagall had come to tell her she was a witch when she had been eleven. Ron had then explained to her that for all wizarding children, the spell was placed at birth in order to find them more easily in case they get lost and perform accidental magic. She remembered having grumbled that it was mainly to be able to control the population that the ministry was doing that, and Ron had admitted she was probably right.

"I have the Trace," Harry confirmed. "But you know very well Hermione that the Trace doesn't react to the weaker manifestations of magical activity, and I'm crafty enough to scare the Dursley's without much. Don't worry, the ministry has never come here."

Hermione sighed. She could not really blame Harry for trying to improve his living conditions with the Dursley. Instead, she focussed on her reason to be there in the first place.

"How the hell did you think it was a good idea to go back in time Harry! It's frighteningly dangerous! Horrible things happen to people who meddle with time, you know that! What if we fail this time to destroy Voldemort for example?"

Harry face reddened slightly from embarrassment. Had her friend really not thought about that when, by some means she still cannot comprehend, he had decided to trigger this time travelling folly?

"Why do you think it was me?" Harry asked with a curious expression.

"It's my most plausible hypothesis. Going back to the 31st of October 1981? Not a lot of suspects here. And you're the only person I know who have gathered all the Deathly Hallows. But what disturbs me the most is why I am also back."

Harry looked for a moment as if he wanted to hug her again, but a warning look from Hermione stopped him and he just giggled.

"You're right, as always. All of this has to do with the Deathly Hallows, and a wish at the time of my death. I didn't really have much time to think to be honest. Death was not happy to see me, and she's quite terrifying. So I've asked for us to go back in time, even though I was thinking that we would come back in 1991 during Christmas time."

"In 1991 during Christmas? Why?"

"That's when Dumbledore gave me the Cloak, the first Christmas I spent at Hogwarts. I thought it was then that I mastered the first hallow. But obviously it was stupid, since I became the true owner of the Cloak the moment my father died."

Hermione looked aghast and she felt her heart sank in her chest.

"You're saying that you came back right when Voldemort was killing your mother?"

She leaned over to check that Harry's scar was still in place on her friend's forehead .

"Stop worrying Hermione, I haven't changed what happened," Harry said bitterly. "Mainly because I wasn't able to… But my mother's dead, Voldemort has been reduced to his spectral self, and I have a fucking Horcrux in my scar."

Hermione pulled back abruptly, embarrassed by her reaction.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I guess it has been quite hard to go through it. Again."

Harry nodded slowly , and a faint smile spread his lips.

"I was in a terrible mood for several weeks after that. To see my mother, right in front of me, and not being able to save her... But I calmed down at some point. Who knows what would have happened if Voldemort had not been defeated that night? The world might already be completely destroyed."

They stayed silent for a moment, and Hermione reviewed everything Harry had said.

"You said us," she pointed out after a moment. "Is it just the both of us, or have you brought even more people back?"

"Ginny and Ron."

Hermione shook her head disapprovingly. She was glad to know that her closest friends were there. But what Harry had done was frighteningly dangerous. Far more dangerous than everything he had done before, and destiny had always had a thing for Harry Potter and unbelievable disasters.

They were going to change the timeline. Irremediably. They were already changing it… Even if they tried not to change anything, they would not be able to re-play perfectly their lives. Her children would never be born. No Rose, no Hugo, as Ron and herself will not be in a relationship this time. And she knew that even if they tried to bring Rose and Hugo to life, they would not succeed. What were the odds indeed for them to procreate at the exact same time? To give birth to the exact same person?

Hermione knew the moment she noticed that she had been thrown back in time that she had lost her children and grandchildren forever. And all the children of her friends and acquaintances also. A whole generation that would not see the day, or at least not exactly the same people. Perhaps not even close. Because she knew that Harry would never be able to stay idle in front of this wonderful opportunity to change everything.

"I suppose that if I try to convince you that it is absolutely necessary not to change anything, it will be vain?" Hermione said in a disillusioned tone.

"I came back to change things Hermione," Harry answered softly. "You said it yourself that day, we were losing. I want to prevent that from happening again Hermione. I want to prevent this magical source to kill everyone. Such a disaster must not happen."

His eyes were shining with determination, and for one moment Hermione felt like she had in front of her the strong Auror leader Harry had become, instead of the frail little boy he currently was.

"You know Harry, I don't know if we can change the timeline. Maybe this disaster will occur despite all our efforts. A little later, in another place, but maybe it will happen anyway."

"Or maybe, we will finally be able to change everything, to protect those we love, and to secure the future of the world. We cannot let this opportunity go."

Hermione could not help feeling particularly pessimistic about Harry's point of view. They had not managed to understand why Wales' magical source had become unstable in the first place, as it was normally impossible. None of the other six sources had ever done something similar. So she had no certitudes that this time they would manage to understand how to counter the phenomenon…

But Hermione had learnt long ago that when Harry had an idea in mind, he would try until the end. And she had to admit, even if it was with reluctance, that most of the times his ideas turned out to be ultimately fruitful.

"What was your plan by coming back in time?" she finally asked.

"Honestly Hermione? Do I look like I could have formed a plan in the short minute I was reluctantly granted to come up with a wish? I've done what I thought was the best thing to do, letting the burden of thinking about a plan to my future self."

"You've had almost six years to think now," Hermione pushed.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, messing it even more, and Hermione looked at him suspiciously. She knew her friend well. Enough to know that he was not comfortable right now.

"Harry."

Harry let out a resigned sigh .

"I don't really have a plan Hermione. Ideas yes. Plenty of them. But are they the right ones? I don't know."

It was really strange to see this boy so young chat with all the seriousness of an adult. But for him it was probably equally strange to see her in her younger body. With a movement of her hand Hermione encouraged him to continue.

"The most obvious idea is to try to see if it is possible to stabilize more securely the source. After all, we have nearly fifty years to go before these more and more violent eruptions start occurring."

"If it is not our research about the magical source that triggers the magical instability."

Harry stared at her until she shrugged, admitting that it would be a little far-fetched .

"My second idea is to save as many wizards as possible. Prevent the second war against Voldemort. Prevent the clash of the Pacific. But then, even if we do our best, there is always a risk that it would trigger something else, isn't there?"

"Indeed," Hermione agreed. "If we save everyone, perhaps we will save the father of the next Dark Lord. Or we will unleash another, even more destructive war."

"That won't stop me from trying," Harry promised. "But I guess you will not contradict me if I tell you that even if we save as many people as possible we would not be sure to be overpower the source."

Hermione quickly estimated how many wizards would be alive if there was no war at all in the coming decades, and reconciled that with what she knew of the magical source power.

"Indeed," she ended up validating. "There is no certainty that there would be enough people anyway. In fact, the number is not really the issue here. What would have really helped would have been more very powerful wizards, others like yourself Harry, or like Dumbledore."

"What would have really helped would have been a brilliant mind like yours Hermione, with an access to all the necessary information."

Hermione narrowed her eyes warily. Harry looked at her for a moment before slightly lowering his gaze and running a hand through his hair. Again.

"What's your plan Harry?" she asked very slowly .

"You said yourself that one of the only person that seems to have studied the magical sources was Salazar Slytherin, didn't you?"

Hermione did not like where he was going. Not at all. When she had discovered in a treaty about theoretical magic that the former founder of Hogwarts had supposedly spent some time working on magical sources Harry, Ron, Ginny and herself had done everything to try to recover the founder's books, all missing since years at best, centuries at worst. They had even gone back to the Chamber of Secrets, Harry having fortunately kept his ability to speak Parseltongue.

But they had found nothing on the empty shelves. No books, no scrolls, nothing. They had deduced that Voldemort had had to take everything with him when he had left Hogwarts. Or perhaps he had done it the day he had come to ask Dumbledore to give him the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. The four friends had searched all the places in which Voldemort could have stored these books. Malfoy Manor. Riddle Manor. And even the ruins of the old Slytherin Castle.

It was in the castle that they had finally found almost by chance a series of hidden rooms, including one containing the most fabulous library Hermione had ever seen. Huge and full of books that seemed very rare. And all protected, in addition to other more classic protections, by some blood magic that they had been unable to circumvent.

She was suddenly afraid to know what Harry wanted to do.

"Harry, I don't think it's a good idea," she said cautiously.

"I'm not sure either," Harry sighed. "But if we can get a few drops of his blood, we will be able to access all these books. And maybe finally find out how to stabilize the source."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, trying to think about all the possible implications of Harry's plan, most of them making her shudder.

"Are you aware Harry, that in order to get a drop of Voldemort's blood, we'll have to give him his body back? Put him back in a position of power, when we could just destroy all his Horcruxes and him before he harms anyone?"

There was still the problem of the Horcrux in Harry's scar of course, which would probably take them years to resolve, but Hermione put it aside for the moment. Harry looked at her sadly before answering her.

"I know Hermione. Do you really think I'm not dying to do just that? To simply Apparate in the corner of Albania where he's currently hiding to kill him after taking care of Horcruxes? When I watched him kill my parents not six years ago? When I know that he's responsible for the deaths of many people I cared about? But if there is any chance for these books to contain something that can help us, we need to gain access to them."

He had risen saying that, and was pacing in the small garden shed, with that serious look that was always his when faced with important decisions.

"These books may be useless in the end," Hermione pointed out.

"But if we don't try, we're almost sure to see the world be destroyed again in fifty years," Harry answered.

He was unfortunately right.

"There is always a risk that this time Voldemort will win, and the world will be tore apart in a lot less than fifty years," Hermione said.

"Not if we get all his Horcruxes and we destroy them before he even returns."

Hermione got up right in front of Harry, stopping his pacing. She was suddenly feeling very tired.

"It's extremely dangerous, Harry," she said. "Voldemort was insane, but far from stupid. I doubt we can resurrect him, get his blood, get the books, and then simply kill him. Far too many things in this plan can go wrong. Will go wrong."

But Harry seemed determined, and Hermione felt slightly desperate. They were not just going to play with the timeline, they were going to try to change everything. For better or for worse, she had no idea.

"If we really do that," she said cautiously, "we'll have to think carefully about what we do with the Horcruxes and when."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"We might need them to resurrect him, and the destruction of a Horcrux is not something to be taken lightly. I will have to research the subject."

Harry nodded.

"I need to go before my absence become too suspicious Hermione. Do you think you could find us some wands and a way to communicate all the four together?"

"I could, but the money is going to be a problem," she said .

Of course she could technically steal some Muggle money from her parents – even if she did not want too –, but she could never change it into galleons without going through the goblins and that was going to draw some unwanted attention on her.

"Ah, of course, of course," Harry said.

He rummaged through one of his pockets and pulled out a very magical purse, startling Hermione. He plunged his hand into it, and withdrew several handfuls of galleons, which he placed on the table.

"Where did you get that?" Hermione asked.

"It's my mother's purse. I got it right after... after... well, after you know what," Harry replied. "It has a direct access to the Potter family vault."

Hermione smiled appreciatively. It was quite brilliant to have thought to take this purse, which recognized Harry as a Potter, and thus left him free access to his family vault, which was surely frozen otherwise.

"Clever," she admitted. "I'll take care of the wands then."

"Will you have enough?"

Hermione nodded slowly , and even pushed half of the galleons back to Harry.

"It's even too much," she answered.

"Take everything," Harry said. "You can give some to Ron and Ginny, and you should also buy books. About the magical source. And the Horcruxes. And resurrection rituals."

Lovely readings, Hermione thought.

"Fine. I'll pay you back one day."

"Don't even think about it. Consider it a poor compensation for forcing you once more to be part of my latest crazy plan."

Hermione laughed slightly, and they both came out of the shed. Before they separated, she gently squeezed Harry's shoulder.

"Don't think for a moment that you have fooled me Harry. It's obvious that you are keeping a close watch on him with the link in your scar. Just… please be careful."

"Don't worry Hermione. I know what I'm doing."

It did not make her feel better in the slightest.

oOoOoOo

Hermione quickly took off her shoes, put them in the exact same position they were supposed to be, and collapsed on the living room couch. She checked that she had a children book somewhere near her, in case her parents returned earlier than expected from their dental office. She could not afford for them to think that finally living her alone for one afternoon was a bad idea.

Then Hermione let her head fall back on the armrest and stared desperately at the ceiling. Harry's plan was even worse than anything she could have imagined. He had completely lost his mind. And the worst part was that she kind of understood. It may indeed be their best chance against the magical source. But to voluntarily resuscitate Voldemort…

She still remembered vividly the last battle they had fought against him in Hogwarts. Harry's sacrifice. The fear that had gripped her heart that day when the army of Death Eaters had shown up to take over the castle. Even today, with all her experience, she had no desire to relive that, and no certainty that they could win.

They had been so lucky to successfully destroy all the Horcruxes without Voldemort noticing. So lucky that Voldemort had killed Harry with an Avada Kedavra, and had not just sliced his throat. So lucky that Harry actually turned out to be the real master of the Elder Wand without Voldemort knowing it.

And now, instead of taking the opportunity to end it once and for all quickly, they would instead try to resurrect themselves the greatest dark wizard of all time. Somehow, she knew that this was going to be a disaster.

oOoOoOo

AN: See you next week.