"Are the death of all things that are seen and unseen

Not an end, but the start of all things that are left to do?"

Wasteland!Baby-Hozier

Malfoy Manor, March 1998

Fire.

That's what it felt like. Another crucio hit and it felt like fire shooting through every inch of her skin. Hermione laid on the marble floor, staring at the vast ceiling of the drawing room as her body shook uncontrollably. Her limbs felt like stone and her ears rang with the shrill laughter of the vile woman above her.

"Come on Mudblood! Can't handle a little Crucio? Brightest witch of her age? Hardly!" bellowed the raspy voice of Bellatrix LeStrange.

Hermione felt the muscles in her neck give up as her head lolled to the side. She watched as the raven-haired witch raised her wand to hit her again, before she was interrupted by an aristocratic voice.

"Now Bella, surely you don't intend to waste anymore of your pure magic on this filth. Why not let the beast have his fun with her?" sneered Lucius Malfoy as he gestured to the lone man standing in the corner.

Appeased with the question, Bellatrix nodded and swept out of the room in a storm of dark robes. Shifting her eyes, Hermione focused on the large form of Fenrir Greyback. His skin covered with patchy, grey fur and yellow teeth stretched into a ghastly smile. A loud snarl tore through the room as he raked his dark eyes over her. She had seen those eyes before, they weren't the eyes of a man. They were the eyes of a monster. They were the eyes that stalked you in the dead of night, they were the eyes of a predator watching its prey. Unable to move as he approached, Hermione could only stare at the man turned creature. She knew this was it, this was the end. Her blaze of glory was about to fizzle out and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

His heavy footsteps pounded against her ears as he drew closer, her breaths came out in quick bursts as she squeezed her eyes closed. Not daring to look at the thing that would be her violent end. Hermione thought of all the happy moments in her life and she thought of her friends, her loyal friends who would go on to end this war. If anything, her death would make her a martyr. It would give them someone to avenge or it would fall into the background. Solidifying the truth that she was nothing more than a lowly muggle-born, she'd be just another casualty lost to the tides of war.

Sharp claws danced along the tender flesh of her arm and she willed her body not to flinch. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of her fear, not even in death. Hermione felt him lift her forearm and was startled when she felt his slimy tongue lick up the soft skin of her forearm. Before she had a chance to process what was happening, large fangs bit harshly into her arm. A scream ripped its way from her throat as her body started to burn worse than before. If a crucio was unforgivable, she didn't want to know what this was classified as. Her body started to seize and somewhere in the back of her mind she heard the door being thrown open.

"How did you get it? How did you get into my vault! Tell me! Crucio!" a voice yelled.

Hermione felt a surge of magic from her core so strong that her mind didn't fully register the pain from the cruciatus curse. Magic seemed to be pulsing all over her skin, glowing as if it were a sentient object. Sharp pains pricked at her skin in meticulous patterns, as if the magic was searching for a way out. Opening her eyes, she was met with a veil of shimmering air that seemed to wrap around her. She watched as the others in the room moved in what seemed to be slow motion. It wasn't until she went to pull her arms to her that she saw the two familiar figures at the doorway, a tall brunette with a kind smile and a man she knew to be long dead.

A loud crack echoed throughout the room and as if the veil had dropped, Hermione Granger disappeared. Bellatrix stopped mid-curse to look for the muggle-born witch, but was quickly sidetracked. It was as if there was a modified muggle-repelling charm in the room, aiming to make her forget. Striding out of the room, the remaining group went about their way to continue the Dark Lord's bidding, minus one.

Fenrir Greyback was not a gracious man, nor was he the brightest, but he knows the taste of a witch's blood. And his wolf within knows when he's sired another beast.

Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts, July 1976

Hermione was awakened by the sound of birds. If it hadn't been for the ache in her bones and the burn of her forearm, she would have sworn that yesterday was a dream. Content to enjoy the peace before the boys would disrupt her, she kept her eyes closed and thought of the questions she would need answered. What happened? How did they get out of the dungeons? Where were they? What was Bellatrix so worried about? Why were Remus and Sirius there?

Shooting straight upright after the last question rang through her mind, she was greeted with the sight of Albus Dumbledore lounging on a nearby boulder. He looked younger and less burdened than she recalled him looking later in life. Perhaps she didn't make it out of the manor, maybe her body caved to the pain of the curse and venom of the bite. Maybe this was the afterlife and Merlin had graced her with a familiar face to welcome her into it. As lovely as that sounded, why would she feel the lingering pain from it all? Wouldn't she feel normal? Not still plagued with the remnants of the curse?

"Ah Ms. Granger, I see you've awoken! How was your trip here?" Dumbledore spoke, breaking her from her reverie.

Trip? Does he mean my death? Seeming to understand Hermione's confusion, Dumbledore stood from the boulder and offered her a hand.

"Come with me dear, we have a lot to discuss. If you wouldn't mind, the sun is quite awful for my complexion this time of year," he chortled, offering a waiting hand to the young girl.

Hermione stared at the extended hand, weighing the options in her head. If this was really the afterlife then she wouldn't have anything to truly fear. Deciding that it was safe, she grabbed the hand and was surprised to feel the familiar pull of apparition in her navel. Bracing herself for the landing, she felt Dumbledore grasp her forearm in an effort to stabilize her. A sharp hiss escaped her mouth as pain ripped through her arm, and before she realized what was happening, a low growl emitted from deep within her chest.

Seemingly unfazed, her former headmaster gestured to a set of plush, crimson chairs that sat parallel to a large window. Hermione took the time to glance around the office as she followed the older wizard across the floor. In life she never had the opportunity to truly take in his office, but only being inside it during life or death situations doesn't really give one the time to observe. Her eyes scanned over a wall of portraits that stood empty.

"Ah. I see you've noticed all of the former headmasters have decided to make themselves sparse this afternoon. Truly a rare occasion. Normally they'd be ecstatic to have someone else to talk to," Dumbledore chuckled, watching her with a knowing eye.

Sending him a smile Hermione made her way to the empty chair, letting out a soft groan as her body relaxed into the welcoming fabric. Her bones seem to breathe a sigh of relief at finally having a proper break.

"So Professor, why am I here?" Hermione asked quietly as she stared across the vast ground of Hogwarts.

"Well I was hoping you might be able to tell me that dear. You could say I was quite surprised to get an alert that the wards had been breached. I thought it was a mistake until my enrollment book sprang open. You can imagine the shock I had when I watched a new name be pinned in, for a student not yet born," Dumbledore replied calmly.

"Sir where am I? Is this not the afterlife?" Hermione spoke, staring at him in shock.

"Hermione, I'm happy to tell you that this is not the afterlife. This is Hogwarts. As honored as I am that you would want me to greet you should you depart this world, you have not yet passed. Merlin! You haven't even ceased to exist yet."

"What year is it? H-how did this happen?" she stammered out.

"It is July 21, 1976. As for how this came to be, I was hoping you could enlighten me. I need to know what was happening before you arrived," Dumbledore answered.

"1976? How can that be? It was just 1998! How did I get thrown 20 years into the past? What's going on?!" Hermione exclaimed, looking wildly around the room.

She left Harry and Ron. Her best friends are gone. Just like that. Years of fighting to keep Harry alive so he could defeat Voldemort all ended. What if she couldn't get back? What will happen to them without her?

"Ms. Granger, please take a deep breath. I need you to tell me everything you can remember. That is the only way I can offer help," he explained.

"Well, we were caught while on the run from You-Know-Who. They took us back to Malfoy Manor, that's sort of their headquarters in my time. I was being tortured by Bellatrix LeStrange for being a muggle-born but she got bored and let another have me. That's how I got this," Hermione recalled, rolling up the sleeve of her bloodsoaked jacket to reveal a slightly raised bite wound.

"I see that the lycanthropy has taken quite well to your blood. The enhanced healing has already closed the wound. Unfortunately, it will leave quite a scar that not even a glamour can cover," Dumbledore replied, gazing at her forearm with a stricken expression.

Hermione ran the pads of her fingers over the puckered scar, tracing the raised skin. She thought of Remus and the silver scars that littered his skin. He always held himself with such confidence that she never thought of how they had happened and she never would have dared to ask.

Breaking her out of her thoughts Dumbledore interrupted with, "Now do please continue with your recollection."

"Sorry, Professor. I had just been bitten when she came back. Bellatrix was yelling about me taking something and then struck me with another crucio. It felt as if all the bones in my body were rearranged to cope with the pain. I felt something deep in me, like my magical core was trying to burst from my skin. There was a loud noise and then I woke up here," Hermione answered, still staring at the scar.

"It seems as though some very complicated magic has occurred, but until I can be for certain what exactly happened, you can stay here. The school has already enrolled you and we can definitely find someone for you to stay with. That's if you wish to stay, of course," Dumbledore spoke.

"Sir, not to seem ungrateful. But who would take in a 19 year old werewolf from the future?" she questioned, staring at the older wizard.

"The answer is simple. You are a transfer from Beauxbatons that wanted to return home due to the unstable times we live in. A deaging potion will help with your appearance. Lastly, we'll keep the secret that you like your steak bloody between us and Madam Pomfrey," he answered as if it was obvious.

"Sounds reasonable, but who will my family be?" Hermione inquired.

"Now you just leave that bit to me," Dumbledore replied confidently.

Hermione watched as he strode to his desk and started to scribble on a piece of parchment. Turning her face towards the window she tried to wrap her head around the events of the last day. Just yesterday morning she was trying to eat the mush Ron had made and laughing as even he spoke that it wasn't edible. Sadness settled into her bones as she realized it was highly likely she would never see her two best friends ever again. No more adventures. No more Christmases at the Burrow. She may never see Harry and Ginny fall properly in love.

She couldn't help but wonder whose care she would be placed under. She felt a bit of relief at the idea of Dumbledore putting her with another meeting of the Order, but this Order was not hers. The only members she knew of in 1976 are still enrolled at Hogwarts. Silently hoping she wasn't placed with any of the Marauders. Of course she wouldn't hate it, but she didn't think she could handle seeing the man Harry never got to know.

Turning her head she saw Dumbledore kneeled over the fireplace, he seemed to be on a floo call. Hermione stared at the rapidly talking man and noticed he must have placed a silencing spell over himself. She watched as the green from the fire died out and he quickly made his way back to the window.

"Any luck?" Hermione questioned, stomach squeezing at the possibilities.

"Unsurprisingly, yes. My dear friend Augusta Longbottom has agreed to house you. She's a respectable woman and has a son that will be in the same year as you. Frank and you share some slight similarities and with well placed glamours, could pass as siblings. You are at liberty to change your first name if you wish. She doesn't mind regardless. She's a trusted member of the Order and is honored to have you stay with them," Dumbledore explained.

Hermione's heart leapt with the familiar name. She remembered Lady Longbottom from her time in Hogwarts and always marveled at the strength she possessed. Her stomach felt queasy at the idea of being thought of as a pureblood witch, but she could take whatever was thrown at her. Thinking of the fate that would later befall Frank and Alice, she vowed to be present for enough moments to later share with Neville, should she ever get back to 1998.

"Regarding your lycanthropy, I did not inform them. Should you decide to share that with them, I will leave that to you. I can arrange for you to spend the full moons between now and the beginning of term here, if you wish," he continued.

"Thank you, that would be wonderful. I don't wish to scare them off before they've had the chance to get acquainted with me," Hermione spoke gratefully.

Nodding his head with a large smile, the headmaster replied, "Welcome to 1976, Ms. Longbottom."