A.N. Hey everyone so first thing I am alive! I have been in a crazy new job, new relationship, the pandemic making writing inspiration hard to come by place but thankfully I was finally able to sit down an write. I am immensely grateful to all of you for sticking with me in this crazy time and for continuing to send me encouraging messages and give love to my work. It really is such a passion project and I'm so excited to see where it goes! A big thanks as always to rotehexe and a huge thank you to all of you, I couldn't have broken out of my writing slump without your support.


May and June of 1980 seemed to pass by too quickly for Hermione to process. Plans were being laid for Lucius to enter the Lestrange vault and despite the slow going of it all, it felt like time kept easing past her.

Rabastan and Rodolphus had been taken in by Lucius's suggestion of a poker night between the men. Somehow the pureblooded disgust for Muggle culture seemed stunted by the prospect of booze and gambling. Bellatrix was too much of a risk, that much had become clear very early on in their plotting to get the cup.


"Quite honestly I'm not even sure that Bella can be imperiused. Her mind is so fractured already from all the crazy she keeps in there." After his fake-death and turn to the light, Regulus had made it increasingly clear that despite any conflicted feelings over his continued blood purity ideas, Bellatrix Lestrange was never someone he held any deep love for.

"Regulus makes a good point." Sirius added, earning a surprised glare from his brother. It wasn't often the Black brothers openly agreed about anything, pending reconciliation or not. "Bella is some next level crazy but you know who is distinctly not crazy?" The wicked gleam of his toothy grin seemed to fill the room with an air of mischief that Hermione would be lying if she didn't admit made her heart pang.

"Will you just tell us instead of subjecting us to that stupid look on your face?" Lucius Malfoy had very little patience already, but it always seemed to be distinctly even less when dealing with Sirius Black.

"Rabastan." The room seemed to suck in a collective breath at that point. Remus, who had been quietly sipping his tea and contemplating by the mantle turned; his face illuminated by the slowly dying light from the fire.

"Rabastan isn't the cleverest man in the world, I'll admit, but he'd never be so foolish as to let us into his vault without his sister-in-law's knowledge or opinion." It was true enough that Bellatrix's attraction to the Lestrange family had more to do with retaining her independence than it ever had with any love in her heart. Bellatrix had only one love and that was bringing pain into the world.

"You'd be amazed what he is willing to divulge after a few firewhiskeys and a bad hand of poker." Lucius chuckled, which was a new and dark sound that unsettled Hermione just slightly before she let out a nervous laugh of her own. She'd never seen the man so relaxed, even if it was for only a moment. His guard was consistent and fortified, and sometimes Hermione had to shove away this nagging feeling in the back of her brain that remembered Lucius's evil grin when he had deposited Tom Riddle's diary into Ginny Weasley's cauldron at Flourish and Blott's.

"I may not be up to date on my Pureblood politics," Remus began, rubbing his thumb nervously against the warn hem of his blazer. It was a few decades behind muggle fashion, so he likely picked it up at some thrift store with Sirius and James. He looked every inch a future professor. "But how is it more efficient to ask after Rabastan and not the owner of the vault. Surely Rodolphus would be a more effective target." The grimace on his face was clear as he spoke of the men. As harmless as the Lestranges seemed in comparison to Bellatrix, the family had a devoted hatred of werewolves. Something Hermione had never quite put together when she saw the way Bellatrix treated Fenrir. His usefulness and the desire of the Dark Lord to keep his allegiance must've kept her at bay.

"Yes but you've got to admit Rab is not the sharpest of tools. If we're going to trick and manipulate its better to go for the weaker party." Sirius rested back, pulling his elbows up to cup his hands behind his head. Hermione internally groaned at how arrogant the man was when he was right, but he was right.

Lucius and Regulus began planning immediately for this poker night. Sirius and Remus tried to help but soon found that Pureblooded politics was like playing a game of chess blindfolded and in the dark if you weren't trained in the subject. The two men never waivered as they spoke intensely back and forth of food plans, invitations, the timing, what whiskey would be served; so much went into it that Hermione was exhausted just listening in.

By the end of their meeting, they had a preliminary blueprint of their plan: The Cup Overfloweth.


To say that James's patronus showing up on Hermione's doorstep was surprising was a understatement. She was sleepily nursing a cuppa in her kitchen, the robe around her open as the comfort of the material made her feel covered but the heat of the summer invaded to make it slightly too warm. Whatever nonsense puff piece the Prophet was spewing today was running thoughtlessly through Hermione's head as she enjoyed a quiet morning for once. With all their plans laid, it was only a matter of time. Today was July 15th 1980, the poker night was planned for August 3rd, when Rabastan and Rodolphus would be returning from a brief trip abroad to take care of "personal investments". It had been eating Hermione alive to try and figure out what the men were actually up to but eventually she had to remind herself that she had no control over things she didn't know of.

The stag in her kitchen was, however, not part of the quiet morning she had planned.

"Lily. Trouble. COME NOW!" James's voice was incredibly clear and loud and it caused an immediate panic to fill her body. Terror took over the space where air had been, and grabbing her wand, Hermione shot out of her house. She paused only to grab her wand and ran over to the Potter Cottage that seemed quiet despite the message Hermione had just received. Lily can't have the baby yet. She's not supposed to. She was supposed to have more time. 16 more days.

Half-crazed and wild looking as she marched through the door, Hermione's eyes seemed to survey the room for threats. "James? Lily?"

A crashing noise clued Hermione into that they were on the second floor, and she took the steps three at a time, closing the distance between them. "Lily!"

At the top of the stairs though, Hermione could only laugh at what she found.

James Potter was standing in front of his wife, holding his hands up defensively. His jet-black hair was singed slightly on one side and the remains of a vase crunched under his feet as he backed up. When he spotted Hermione, he hid behind her, muttering his thanks and praises.

"James Potter what have you done?" Hermione evenly questioned, trying to swallow her annoyance and anger until she could get a read on the situation. Based on the context clues of the broken vase, Lily's tomato-red face and angry expression, and James's singed hair, Hermione could pretty much piece it together.

"Hermione, so lovely to see you. Now if you could step aside so I could finish murdering my husband, I would so appreciate it." The sweet smile she flashed the curly-haired witch did nothing to quell the fire behind her eyes, which nearly glowed with green flames.

"As much as I am absolutely positive you are justified in the murder you're about to commit, may I ask why before I commit to handing James over to die?" Hermione could hear movement behind her and felt as James peaked his head over her shoulder.

"No one cares what I have to say?" James interrupted, although he said no more when Lily shot him one of the nastiest looks Hermione had ever seen. It nearly sent chills down her spine and it wasn't even meant for her.

Lily sighed and readjusted, placing a hand behind her back for support. Even through the robe she was wearing, it was noticeably clear that the witch was incredibly pregnant. Her due date was just a few days away, but Hermione knew Harry was a late baby.

"James has gotten some correspondence from Dumbledore and felt the need to make a decision about OUR family without me."

"Lils it is not my fault…Shutting up now." James began, once again stopped by Lily's glare.

Hermione began to realize what they were talking about but wanted to make sure. "What did Dumbledore say? Is something wrong?"

Lily bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath, turning her back on both Hermione and James to take a seat in the rocker of the newly finished nursery. Despite the chills and bad thoughts it caused, Hermione followed the woman to the room where if her mission failed, Lily would die.

"Dumbledore has heard a prophecy. Something about You-Know-Who and a child born at the end of this month. Apparently, the Dark bastard has decided it's our son." Anger began to melt away from Lily as her true emotions broke through. She choked back a sob and rubbed at her eyes, pulling away her palms to reveal redness that hadn't been there a moment before. "I'm 9 bloody months pregnant and James has signed us up to leave our home, to run. I won't run. I refuse to cower to that man. I deserve to be in this world, and I will not be forced out of my house. I'm not afraid."

Without thinking, Lily had begun wrapping her hands around her belly, protectively covering her son, the chosen one. Hermione wished she could tell Lily that she was wrong, that she and James and Harry were safe, but those words would be a lie.

"You shouldn't have to be afraid but Lily…" Hermione paused, walking over to Lily and kneeling in front of her, placing her hands over Lily's she looked up right into the green eyes that were swimming with anger and fear in place of the fearlessness and kindness that were so commonplace. "Dumbledore and James are just trying to do the same thing, protect your family. I think…I think I have a way you wouldn't have to leave."

Hermione detailed what she knew of the fidelius charm, and Lily (to her credit) patiently waited and listened. It then hit her that James and Lily should've already been in hiding. Snape had known about the prophecy for months…had he not told Voldemort? Thousands of questions ran through her mind and she stopped her sentence abruptly. She'd been so preoccupied with her Horcrux hunt that she'd accidentally put the very people she was trying to protect at risk.

"I've…got to go. I'm sorry Lily I just have something I have to do." Hermione gave Lily a tight hug before standing and quickly moving back down the hallway towards the stairs. James, who had gone to make Lily some tea, stood at the bottom of the platform staring up at her with puzzled eyes.

"Hermione what's…" Before he could finish his question though, Hermione had moved past him out the door. It felt as if she had crossed the lawns between their houses in four strides when she closed the front door and locked it behind her.

Down the corridor, her extended bag sat on the rocking chair in her bedroom where she foolishly had left it. Taking a deep breath to both calm herself and concentrate, she closed her eyes and summoned her journal of events. It was plainly written, towards the front of her timeline. James and Lily Potter enter into hiding shortly after James's 20th birthday. That had not happened. Something had changed. Hermione had to figure out what it was, and what else was different.

Sinking into the chair that her bag had been sat on, Hermione rolled her head forward until it rested in her hands. She could nearly pull her hair out from how large of a safety measure she had simply forgotten to take into account. Lily was going to have this baby in two weeks and yet she and James remained in Potter Cottage protected only by whatever wards they'd managed. Hermione knew there was only one person, aside from herself, who could have made this change.


It wasn't a particularly warm day at Hogwarts. Then again, it never had been a particularly warm place. The last time Hermione had been at Hogwarts over the summer had been when she'd come to retrieve the diadem nearly a year prior. A year. So much time had passed.

Time had begun to take its toll on her, strands of her chestnut and caramel hair fading until all that was left was a premature grey that now streaked her head. Lines had begun to form on her skin under her eyes and between her eyebrows from lost sleep and frowning. It was crazy to imagine that in her youth, Hogwarts had been her home, the one place she could be authentically herself. And yet now she stood on its threshold, the sprawling greens a bitter reminder of the funeral that was held there. As she walked up to the front door, her eyes were drawn to the blank patch of grass that Harry's casket had been on; the hill next to it where his picture had been so carefully placed.

The hallways seemed cold and dark without the students roaming through. A few ghosts and portraits she passed regarded her with intrigue but said nothing. She didn't need any guidance or any help finding her destination. She was all too familiar with how to get to the Headmaster's office.

It wasn't until she arrived at the large stony statue that guarded his office that she realized she didn't know the password. Her anger and confusion had only gotten her this far. Cursing herself quietly, Hermione prepared to try to find someone who may know the code when the eagle's wings spread, and the spiral stairs began to slowly reveal from the wall.

Ignoring the pit in her stomach, she approached the first step and prepared herself for what was about to happen.

Regardless of whatever emotion she was processing right now, Hermione was planning on yelling at the most powerful wizard in the world, and that is terrifying.

He was sat at his desk, mindlessly twirling the spoon of a teacup with his finger. It was a show of strength, she recognized, as she had done when they'd first met in this time. This is the first time Hermione noticed how young he looked. Red still speckled part of his beard and his cheeks were slightly more full of life than they had been in her time. He looked harmless, defenseless, tired…all an act to make her forget what he truly was, a threat.

"Ms. Granger. I do believe it has been some time since our last correspondence. 2 sugars if I remember correctly." A teacup floated towards the side table next to the chair across from him, a clear invitation to take the seat. It was less an invitation really and more a demand, but Hermione knew there was no point in ignoring it.

"That is correct. Thank you." Her response was obligatory and polite, but a sip or two of tea would give her time to collect her thoughts. Why were the Potters not in hiding? How would they be safe from Voldemort now?

Silence began to wrap around them like a pressure, getting bigger and bigger until even the air seemed charged. "Do you know why I'm here?" Hermione asked, finally unable to take it anymore. The pressure eased just slightly and the effort it took to fill her lungs seemed to lower.

"I have my suspicions." Dumbledore responded blankly, nothing about his face or voice giving away how he truly felt or thought. It was infuriating.

"Why aren't they under the Fidelius? In my time they went into hiding in March. Its now nearly the end of July and Harry will be born in two weeks!" Hermione avoided raising her voice but found her frustration and concern overflowing and there was a tight yip at the end of her sentence. Clearing her throat, she took another sip from her tea and continued. "Why did you change the timeline?"

"Are you the only one allowed to make changes Ms. Granger?" He always managed to do that, managed to make her feel small and young and unprepared all over again. When his blue eyes trained on her with their seemingly infinite wisdom, she felt like she was that eleven-year-old girl again first discovering magic and arriving at Hogwarts. But she was not that girl anymore…that girl had died with Cedric Diggory, with Remus and Tonks Lupin, with every person she'd ever lost, with Harry James Potter when he died so young after fighting for his life for so long.

"With all due respect profess…Albus, I am the one from the future not you. You have no idea how these changes will play out…" She was interrupted abruptly.

"And you do?" Albus took a long sip of his tea and Hermione could feel static beginning to flow in the air around her, a sign that she was losing control of her temper. Following his lead, she took another sip of her tea, which only served to take away the edge but not the anger.

"I have spent the last five years of my life before this mission studying every moment, every person, every death, every spell even that I could find a record of. I made a cumulative timeline of how this was supposed to go, and you've gone and mucked it all up." Hermione glared at the man; her grip so tight on the arms of the chair she was sitting in that her knuckles were white. "So please explain to me why the Potters are not under the fidelius charm? Why are they not hiding?"

Albus seemed to regard Hermione as if she was someone new entirely for a moment and it took her a second to realize that he was evaluating her as a threat. It was both an honor and an outrage to be considered a threat by someone she had once trusted so much. He must have finished his tea because the kettle to his side began to boil automatically when he placed the cup down on its saucer.

"You told me it was a traitor. You told me it was the fidelius charm, or rather the breaking of it that kills Lily and James. How could I continue as I had in your past if I knew that regardless the people I've sworn the protect are murdered anyway? Better to keep them in plain sight where I can keep an eye on them." Hermione narrowed her eyes and something clicked in her brain. There was something disingenuous about Albus's words, the way they always were when he was telling half-truths or keeping something from them.

"You want to use them as bait. To lure Voldemort out of hiding so you can have your grand duel with him. You would use them to bring out the snake so you could cut off its head." The accusation snapped from her like poison. It was the same bullshit the old man was always up to, he knows best and everyone else needs to just follow his instructions like the pawns we are.

"I want Tom Riddle's reign of terror over the wizarding world to end."

"And I want Lily and James Potter to live!" Hermione's scream was so loud that it seemed to bounce around the room a few times before finally settling into a disgruntled silence. She'd never once raised her voice to a professor, especially not Dumbledore, but she was frustrated and angry and couldn't help it. "You planned for Harry to die too you know. You spared his life and saved him over and over so he would die when it was convenient to you. I will never let that happen, not again. Not with the people I have sacrificed everything I have ever known or loved to save. Lily and James are not going to be your pawns in the twisted game of chess you and Voldemort have going on!"

It may have been childish, but Hermione grabbed her bag that had been resting in her lap and swung it fiercely around her shoulder and stormed to the exit of the room. "I do not wish them harm. Please do not consider me to be thoughtless of their safety. They are like family to me."

"Pardon me if I don't exactly trust your track record with your family." Hermione regretted the words the moment they had left her lips and the last thing she saw before the stairs began to turn around her was an immense sadness sweep across Dumbledore's features.