CHAPTER ONE
Hello guys! This is my first story that I will hopefully finish! This is a time-travel fanfiction, so if that's not your cup of tea, please move on! This will also be a Hermione/Sirius pairing, with hints of other pairings with Hermione!
The plot is the only thing that belongs to me! Everything you recognize belongs to JKR! Bless that brilliant woman.
Silence had never been as loud as it was right then. The calm breeze in the air, the early morning mist covering the blood-soaked grounds and across the Black Lake. She stood at the crumbling edge of the ruined bridge that once connected Hogwarts to Hogsmeade, taking in the overwhelming quiet as her gaze settled on the captivating mist.
The war was won. After thirty long years, the Light finally conquered. But at what cost? Hermione learned very early in her introduction to the Wizarding World that war would take lives, however, knowing how many of her classmates, professors, shop owners, children and muggles were killed was what truly got her.
Lavender Brown, Nymphadora and Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Sirius and Regulus Black, Fred Weasley, Alice and Frank Longbottom*, Marlene McKinnon, Dumbledore, James and Lily Potter, Cedric Diggory, Mad Eye Moody, Peter Pettigrew, Dobby and so many more that she couldn't think about.
Hermione closed her eyes in despair as the tip of her nose started to sting with unshed tears. She lazily flicked her wand to clear a small space at the edge of the bridge so she could sit down. The eighteen-year-old girl took a deep breath to calm her frazzled nerves only for a sob to escape her throat when she exhaled. She covered her mouth to smother her cries back inside her. She had to be strong for Harry, Ron, the Weasley's and for little Teddy Lupin. Teddy wasn't even a year old and he lost both his parents. Remus and Tonks had gifted her the role as Godmother along with Harry's Godfather.
The thought of having to raise a nine-month-old made her gasp for breath as she let her walls crash down. Her knees involuntarily raised to her chest and she secured her spot on the bridge by wrapping her arms around her shins as her face buried itself in her knees to muffle the oncoming break-down. The war didn't just kill people, no. It also turned many children into orphans, the population was down by more than half, Wizarding Britain was a wreck. No, Voldemort took more than just life. He took life, economy, family, innocence, trust, and happiness.
The mere thought of what he had left behind in his supposed domain was almost like a dementor itself.
She didn't know how long she was sitting there crying before she was joined by her two boys- no, they're men now. Ron wrapped a single arm around her waist as Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head on Harry's shoulder while her palm rested on Ron's thigh. They sat in almost complete silence as Hermione continued to gasp for breath as tears ran down her cheeks in a river.
The rest of the day was spent levitating bodies- dead and alive. Hermione managed to shove her feelings back into a compressed box in the back of her mind. It wouldn't due to be a sobbing mess as she was delicately moving heavily injured witches and wizards.
The injured patrons were shown to their own cot in the Great Hall. (That was the first order of business after all; cleaning up the Hall, free of debris. Larger chunks of stone or concrete were transfigured into cots to hold the tens* of injured.) While the dead were laid peacefully near Dumbledore's own grave on the Hogwarts ground. Those that were moving the bodies made sure to lay those loved ones next to each other so even in death, they were near the ones they fought for.
Hermione caught a breath as she laid the last of the injured; an older woman, near her muggle mother's age, if not a few years older, down on one of the last free cots. She could feel the adrenaline running out as her limbs were feeling heavy but she simply couldn't rest. War be damned, there were people who needed healing!
She ran her hand through her prefusiously messy hair before putting it up in what was possibly the messiest bun in her entire life before she set to work. She briskly walked over to Madam Promfrey and asked for direction. The Hogwarts Matron pointed over to a group of children in the west corner and mumbled their injuries. Hermione nodded and scanned her eyes for the potion remedies that she would need to help them and let her brain run the list of healing spells she had memorized from her time on the run.
She felt the tip of her nose start to burn once more when she laid her eyes on a fifth year who managed to sneak back into the castle. She sucked in a deep breath as she remembered Professor McGonagall's words in her mind, "If you are of age, you may stay." When Ernie MacMillian demanded that he wanted to fight. If this fifteen year old would have just listened.. They would be okay, they wouldn't be so severely injured that they were on the brink of death. She, Harry and Ron listened to Dumbledore's orders and they were, miraculously, still alive. His insane orders to find the remaining Horcruxes. The mission that was otherwise known as a suicide mission. The mission to stop Voldemort from continuing down this path of destruction. How he got that far was beyond her.
That was the thought that gave her pause. If Voldemort never had gotten this far, so many people would still be alive. If only some knew then what was known now…
Hermione blinked suddenly and turned on her heels, walking towards the fallen gargoyle that use to guard Headmaster Dumbledore's office. She walked quickly, but not too fast to catch attention. Her mind was whirling a thousand miles per hour for her to come up with a half decent lie if someone was wondering what she was doing.
What if there was someone that could tell a younger Dumbledore? What if they could stop Voldemort sooner rather than later? The amount of lives that would be saved. There had to be a way, there just had to.
She climbed over the crumbled gargoyle and waited for the stairs to stop moving before walking straight into the Headmaster's office and over to Professor Dumbledore's portrait. He wasn't there, none of the past Headmasters or Headmistresses were. That didn't stop her from calling Professor Dumbledore though. She knew he could hear her.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir? I need to speak with you! It's quite urgent!"
"Very well, Miss Ganger," Professor Dumbledore sighed wearily. Nothing was going to change her mind, he may as well give her some tools to aid her in this impossible mission. "After Sirius's accident, I had started fiddling with the time-turner Professor McGonagall had procured. I had realized that if one innocent life were to be saved in your third year, it wouldn't do to have that life viciously ripped away. I had made strides in the amount of time one could go back. Unfortunately, I only made one go as far back as five years."
The previous Headmaster looked over at her, his brilliant blue eyes peeking over his spectacles. He had taken a moment to breathe deeply, choosing his next words carefully.
"One, however, managed to break the boundaries of which I was unable. They seemed to fiddle with another branch of magic; something I briefly thought about but had put on the.. What do muggles say? 'Put on the back burner'? During that battle at the Ministry, I found the item. A Timekey, Miss Granger. Do you know what that consists of?"
"Time-turner and a portkey, Sir. The witch or wizard had taken properties of both and made something new. Something that not only crosses time, but also space. Sir, how do I get it?"
Professor Dumbledore nodded, pleased she caught on. "Why, you would only need to shake hands with death where time is born again." His eyes held a twinkle.
Hermione pursed her lips as she stared at the portrait. Even in death, the old coot couldn't give any straight answers. She was simply exhausted and adding a riddle on top of that only dampened her mood. Taking a deep breath, she sat in the Headmaster's chair to look out at the office. She knew he would want to keep it close to him, most likely in his office- if the pensieve and the Sword of Gryffindor were anything to go by. The desk wasn't an option- she paused and turned to look at him.
"Does Professor McGonagall know of it?" Silence rang true. She did not.
The desk was certainly not an option then. Neither was the bookcase; that's too easy of a hiding place. 'Shake hands with death where time is born again'... What could that mean?
Surely not a reference to the Hallows. Those were all dealt with. The stone was somewhere in the forest, the wand was in Dumbledore's tomb, and the cloak was with Harry.
'Death where time is born again'. Could that be a reference to religion? Being baptized? No, that doesn't include death.. It simply means washing away sins and renouncing one's previous life in order to dedicate themselves to their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ*.
'Death where time is born again.' She blinked as her unfocused eyes rested on Fawkes' old mounting post. Why that post wasn't removed, she had no idea, however it may serve her a purpose. A phoenix! Of course. Burning day is when time was born again for a phoenix. They shake hands with death every ten years. She pushed herself out of the chair and brushed aside the years old ashes until she came across a soot covered time-tuner. She gently pulled it out and held it in her palm, mumbling a cleaning spell under her breath.
She looked up at Dumbledore who held a proud smile on his face. "Well done, my dear. Now, my last mission is for you to be the one to go back. I couldn't entrust that TimeKey to just anyone, you know." He tilted his head as his eyes roamed the office.
"When you come across my path, I believe I will need some evidence from this time to trust you. My suspicion will raise once I come in contact with your Occlumency barriers. I do not expect you to let those barriers down for me; in fact, I don't want you do. I fear I may use your knowledge to my advantage. And while you will indeed need my help and trust, I cannot willingly put you in the hands of myself in that time. When you go up the left hand side of the stairs, on the second bookcase within the second shelf, you will notice a book with the title 'In Genealogia Mortalitatis' by Friedrich Nietzsche.* It is a book that was published in 1887. One that I've had for over 70 years, Miss Granger. Be very careful with it. I will recognize it right away. On the inside cover is a drawing that my late sister Ariana drew." He spoke softly, remembering a time when he brushed his sister to the side without a care in the world. Oh how he wished he could hear her laughter once more. He sighed with an air of remembrance before looking up at his past student once more.
"With that book, I recommend you bring a spare copy of an acceptance letter written from this last year. On which will hold the present year and our last Headmaster." Hermione blinked, remembering Severus Snape's dying words 'Look.. at.. Me.'
She pursed her lips once more as she nodded curtly, turning back to the desk to ruffle through the drawers. Only moments later she held up an acceptance letter that seemed to not have been delivered. The only difference between her first letter and this one was the Headmasters' name and the Deputy Headmaster and Headmistress.
Her jaw clenched tightly as she struggled not to make a fist and crumple the letter. Neville's words involving a pair of Carrow twins made her blood boil. A single breath later made her remember why she was holding the old book, a letter and a TimeKey in her hands.
The letter would signify the year she came from and the book would be proof of her travel; as the past Headmaster would have the same book sitting on his shelves.
She placed the TimeKey around her neck as she had already stashed the book and letter away in her purse.
She wasn't sure when she wanted to go back. Well, that was a lie. She knew when, but she didn't know if she wanted to go back this same day, or if she wanted to go back tomorrow, or another time. Should she tell Harry and Ron? Would they try to stop her?
She knew that regardless of her decision, they wouldn't remember her. No one would. She would be just another Gryffindor (or maybe Ravenclaw) who faded into the background with a good book. The boys wouldn't know the difference between this time-line and the new one. Would it be worth telling them?
Hermione knew herself though. She didn't think she could bare leaving them without giving them an explanation; if only to ease her own mind. She told herself that she deserved this small selfish act. She was willingly sabbotating her own childhood, her own friendships to better the lives of others.
However, she didn't think of it that way. She saw it as her doing what was right to give her best friend and countless others the life they deserved. She had a great childhood with her two best friends alongside her. That was enough for her. Maybe one day she could track down the Hermione Granger of the new time and tell her about herself and where she came from and why she decided to change the time-line. She was sure that Hermione would understand. Or at least, she hoped the girl would. There were bound to be many differences between the two women. Knowing the girl she used to be before she came to Hogwarts made Hermione groan.
She shook her head and continued walking, deciding to walk down to the dungeons. Maybe brewing some potions would help her take her mind off her current problem. She could not, in good conscious, go back in time when there are so many people in so much pain, when there are so many dead who need burying. She knew that she had to grieve herself before she could even begin to plan on going back.
She descended the stairs, directing herself to Professor Slughorn's classroom. This part of the castle wasn't hurting as bad as the rest of it, however stone was heavily littering the hallway, making the floor invisible. The paintings were scorched, some completely burned away. Previous mounds of statues and knights were obliviated, however Hermione was pleased to note the lack of body parts sticking out from the rubble.
Hours had passed before she wiped her brow and surveyed the phials in front of her. Her mind went back to the amount of injured in the Great Hall and decided to make a triple batch of the Anti-Paralysis, Blood-Replenishing, Bruise Removal Paste, Burn Healing Paste, Calming Draught, Cough Potion, Deflating Draught, Dreamless Sleep, Draught of Peace, Dittany, Grand Pepper Up, Invigorating Draught, Murtlap Essence, Restoration, Skele-Gro, Sleeping Draught, Star Grass Salve, Vitamix, Wide-Eye, Wiggenweld, and Wound Cleaning potions and draughts.
She made a few different versions of various potions, pastes and draughts knowing that some may need one over the other. With a few flicks of her wand she cleaned up her area and put back the remaining ingredients in Professor Slughorn's cabinet. Hermione shrunk the potions, pastes and draughts and filed them into her purse before securing her wand to her forearm and returning up to the Great Hall.
Even many hours later, the Hall was filled to the brim with patients and mourning families. Sobbing, yelling, mutters were what filled her ears as she stoically walked over to the exhausted looking Matron.
"Madam Pomfrey? I made triple batches of many potions, draughts and pastes. Who would you like me to give them too?" She asked, tapping her the Matron's shoulder. The older women didn't jump before turning around. She merely looked ready to fall over in pure exhaustion. Hermione knew how she felt. The adrenaline of the war wore out hours ago and she felt dead on her feet. She could honestly not remember the last time she slept. Was it back at Shell Cottage? Maybe Grimmauld Place?
The Matron looked Hermione over with a tired smile, asking her to hand over the supplies. She slid them all into her dirty apron and bussed around her patients.
Hermione took that cue to gather Harry and Ron and go up to the Gryffindor Tower and sleep. She knew that after they woke, Kreacher would gladly make them a spot of breakfast and tea.
Days turned into weeks which turned into months. The once dark and heavy air lifted into a delicate brightness as the weight of Voldemort's threat was removed. Witches and wizards everywhere were in a strange grey area, where they celebrated the death of the dark wizard while mourning their loved that were at the front lines in the duration of the war celebrated by drowning themselves in Firewhiskey and Dreamless Sleep to help cope with the memories of once smiling and laughing faces that turned into bloody, lifeless corpes.
After Cedric Diggory's funeral, it was an unspoken promise that those in Dumbledore's Army and in the Order had made to the fallen; every death would be properly mourned and each body would be respectfully buried when all was said and done.
Harry had smartened up and called everyone, announcing that they were to have one major bonfire while sharing stories of the lost lives. After, they were to bury them and let them rest in peace for their efforts. That was back in July.
October was near ending and this year would be the first date of the Potter's passing in which Harry was going to be at Godric's Hollow. He decided to rebuild the home and spend every holiday there. He wanted somewhere to go to pay respects to his parents and to the beginning and end of both wars.
Halloween saw Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, George, Teddy Lupin, Andromeda Tonks, Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and the Patil Twins, as well as the rest of the Weasley family. The rest of The Order and the remaining members of Dumbledore's Army were also in attendance- Hagrid included. Butterbeer and Firewhiskey were floating around the room as a fire crackled on the far right wall of the cozy cottage.
Hermione was giggling brightly, the Firewhiskey warming her belly as she encountered the story of turning herself into Millicent Bulstrode's cat in second year. The booming laughter from Ron came only seconds laughter as he wheezed out a part of the story that Hermione didn't witness.
"When Malfoy found us, he actually looked surprised! He didn't know that Crabbe or Goyle could read!" She hiccupped as a pale, pointy faced Malfoy popped into her mind. His grey eyes widened in surprise and disbelief as she imagined Harry and Ron making a flimsy excuse to the ferrett.
Her glazed eyes drifting from Ron as she looked over at the many happy faces, laughing and having fun. Her chocolate orbs finally landing on Ginny and Harry, curled up in front of the fire. Harry's face pressed into her neck as she laughed at something he had said. The latter propped up on her best friends' lap with her legs hanging over the edge of the plush chair.
Hermione's fingers unconsciously placed themselves over her TimeKey that sat in the valley of her breasts, underneath her thick jumper. She had placed a glamour on it as to not raise suspicion from her friends if they happened to recognize the chain that held similarities to her Time-Turner she had back in third year.
Hermione's eyes focused on the merry fire as a soft smile overcame her lips. She remembered the summer before fourth year when Ron, Harry and her were sat outside The Burrow, going through the photo album that Hagrid had given Harry back in their first year. Remus Lupin and Sirius Black had owled some pictures that they managed to find for Harry to add to the album and Harry was excited to show his best friends.
She recalled a specific photo of James and Lily sitting in that same spot that their son is now occupying. Lily curled up like a cat on James' lap, her head on his shoulder as they quietly read a book that was splayed across Lily's lap.
Suddenly her fingers tightened around the TimeKey and she knew that she couldn't allow Harry this life. He deserved to grow up with his parents. He deserved to have a possible sister or brother. He deserved to grow up playing with Padfoot and learning the potions to help Moony. He deserved the life that he should of had.
She couldn't live with herself with the knowledge of Sirius sitting and rotting in Azkaban for being unjustly accused and having Remus live a good decade of his life alone and in poverty, the only family he's ever know either dead, locked up, or hidden away.
No.
With a deep breath she stood up, catching her boys' eyes as she walked out the new restored backdoor and into the frigid October air. She tightened her jumper around her and with a soft mumbled, cast a warming charm over the backyard. Over the last few years, her magic had gotten stronger. Simple charms as the warming charm didn't take any effort from her as it used to. She believed it was because of the non-stop action in being Harry's friend.
She didn't have to wait long as she heard the door open and close again, followed by two pairs of footsteps. She sat down in the middle of the small staircase that led them to the lawn. Her boys took their spots next to her, Ron on her left and Harry on her right. She reached out and took their hands, intertwining their fingers together.
"I'm going back." She said without preamble. She didn't know how else to tell them. They deserved an explanation, even though she knew that they wouldn't remember. They wouldn't know her presence as well as they do now. "Dumbledore let me take a newly acquired TimeKey- port-key and a time-turner combined- and gave me his advice as I told him that I wanted to stop this war from happening. I'm going back, Harry, Ron."
"The hell you are!" Ron said forcefully. His red bushy eyebrows furrowing together as he stood up in front of her. "We are finally in a good place! The war is won! We did it!"
"Hermione, what do you mean? We didn't just fight to the death, we didn't lose people only for you to go back and pretend it didn't happen. They didn't die in vain. Don't make it so." Harry replied, standing up and taking his spot next to Ron. He folded his arms across his chest as he looked down at her.
"Exactly! That's what I want to avoid! I want to avoid a war completely! I don't want to lose people left and right as we've been doing. I don't want anyone to die at all. The only thing that will be in vain, will be Voldemort's efforts as I crush him. I know where the horcruxes are. I know when he made them, where they are, who destroyed them, what they are and the protections around them." Hermione took a breath, her hands sliding through her soft curly hair.
"Harry, you could have your parents. You'd grow up with Lily, James, Sirius and Remus! If I go back, you and Ron would meet so much sooner. You'd have life long friends that didn't come from a brewing war. Ron, you'd have Fred back. You'd get to meet your uncles! Fabian and Gideon! Teddy would have his parents! Maybe Sirius- maybe he'll get the life he deserved. Please-" She took a deep breath as her voice cracked, she looked up at her boys with tears shining in her eyes. "Let me do this. Let me give you guys the life you deserve."
She pushed her shoulders back and stood up, looking directly at Harry. "Neville will have his parents. Cedric will be alive. Colin will still be here. Would you really take that away?"
She knew it was a low blow. She knew that using Harry's friends and his guilt against him was wrong. Her heart squeezed against itself as she steeled herself for the blow. If all went to plan, Harry would never even know that this conversation took place.
"I'm doing this whether you two like it or not. I'm giving everyone their best chance. My telling you was not a chance to persuade my mind. It was to tell you goodbye. That I love you and I'll miss you." Hermione's nose stung as her tears fell down her cheeks. Her chin quivered, her arms pulling both boys into a fierce hug.
Hermione left Godric's Hollow not to soon after that. She ended up drying her tears and making her rounds of goodbye's to her friends that she knew she would never see again. At least not like this. Not in the way she knew them now.
Hermione crossed into the dark hallway of Grimmauld Place, her body warming up considerably as the chill from the night was locked out by the thick wooden door. She slowly walked up the steps to the third floor, ignoring the stuffed heads of forgotten house elves that adorned the walls.
She knew that she didn't have to memorize each and every creak in the floors, that she didn't need to remember which room used to be Sirius's, Regulus's and Walburga and Orion's. Hermione had already decided that she was to be placed in the Black family this time around. She had to be. She had a backstory lined up that she had memorized front to back, in and out. She had made up stories of her supposed childhood when asked. She had the Black family tree memorized.
She knew that Grimmauld Place would be her home, if not her second home at the very least.
Hermione waltzed into her claimed room and started to wave her wand. Her few books, few personal belongings (including a family photo of her parents, a journal that she kept secret and her favorite pair of hair ribbons), and undergarments went neatly into her bag that she kept. The Undetectable Extension charm was kept strong over the months on the run and ever since. Hermione changed into her old Hogwarts Uniform, charming the cloth to change to fit her form better. Not only had she grown, but she also lost fat and gain muscle over the last year. Once her skirt landed right above her knees and her shirt was loosely stretched across her breasts but loose against her stomach, she was ready.
Tossing one last look around the room that was hers for months on end, she shouldered her bag and took her leave down the stairs and out of the house. Hermione raised her wand and disapparated, returning to Hogwarts in only seconds. As Hogwarts Alumni, not to mention a war hero, Hermione was able to cross the wards that protected Hogwarts once again without effort. Her eyes settled on various students that came back to school to repeat their past year, as well as the meager first years that were granted access to join in on their studies. A smile pulled at her lips as she marched up the long path that led to the entrance of Hogwarts.
Her palm rested on the great wooden doors for just a moment before shouldering on. Flashes of light, screams and cries wreaked havoc on her mind, her feet blindly leading her to the statue that once grazed the ground with pieces of stone scattered around. The old Griffin shifted its eyes down at her for a moment before letting her pass. Her eyebrows furrowed, climbing up the stairs. The Griffin has never done that before. She was always prompted to say the password or ask for an audience with the Headmaster. However, maybe Headmistress McGonagall expected her to stop in. Had Dumbledore informed the old woman of their conversation? It wouldn't surprise her, as she hadn't asked to keep it confidential.
She cleared her throat and knocked on the door, Minerva's voice answering immediately. Hermione stepped into the grand office, taking in the differences of appearance. She didn't bother to store them in her mind as she was sure that she would never need to remember.
"Headmistress," Hermione greeted with a soft smile. She walked over to the chair that was sitting in front of the Headmistress' desk.
Minerva McGonagall hadn't changed much in the months that Hermione had seen her last. In fact, the only thing that had changed was her slight relief in posture. She doubted anyone else would catch the difference but as Professor Mcgonagall was Hermione's mentor and someone that the young witch looked up to, she was privy to noticing these small changes.
"Miss Granger. How may I help you?" A slim eyebrow raised up as she looked up at her former student. The girl in front of her was slim, her cheeks were slightly filled in although they were still sallow. Her once tanned skin was pale, taking on a pink sheen. Hermione's big full eyes, once bright and filled with joy were now dull and hardened by war; something that too many people now have in common.
"I have use of your office, only for a moment or so. Has Dumbledore filled you in?" Her eyes swept over to the portrait of her now deceased Headmaster, hanging casually behind Professor McGonagall. His twinkling eyes grazed over her face as he smiled merrily at her.
"Ah, you've decided then? Well, in that case," Her old Transfiguration Professor and former Head of Gryffindor House paused and ruffled through the top drawer of her withered desk. She procured a red envelope, one that had Hermione blinking wearily at, and slid it over the polished wood. "As you can see, that is a Howler. You are to give it to Headmaster Dumbledore once you've given him your other evidence of time travel. It has both words from this current Albus and myself, as to make sure all suspicion is successfully vanquished." The old matron nodded with a tone of finality. Hiding an amused smile, Hermione gripped the angry red letter and placed it into her beaded bag.
"Now then, let's get on with it." Professor McGonagall stood up, brushed off some invisible lint and walked over to her past student. She placed her hands on Hermione's shoulders and offered her a secret smile that sparkled with pride. "You'll do well. However, I do ask one small favor." She squared her shoulders as her eyes got misty with tears.
"Make sure the Marauders aren't a complete pain in my arse, Miss Granger."
Hermione barked a surprised laugh, her hand flying to cover her mouth as her wide eyes looked up at McGonagall. That would be the last thing the girl would have ever thought to hear, however they were good parting words. Hermione nodded with a smile and stood back, fishing the TimeKey out front under her school robes and shot the previous Headmaster one last look before turning the precious item in her hand fourteen times.
The world around her swirled around her in a blaze of colors, noises and vague voices. People coming in and out of the Headmasters office at an alarming pace, Dumbledore pacing back and forth numerous times, and many other actions that Hermione was not privy to cataloguing in her mind. Her stomach flipped as her body starting to sway. She squeezed her eyes closed and promptly covered her mouth, doubling over as she emptied her stomach all over the suddenly still floor. Coughing, she fell to her knees, gagging horribly as her stomach proceeded to empty the remains. Hermione took a deep, disgusting breath as she wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her old Hogwarts uniform. With her eyes still closed, she shimmied her wand from her arm holster and vanished her mess. She shot off the floor, shooting a mouth freshener charm into her mouth as she took a calming breath. Her eyes opened.
The Headmasters office had not changed at all since the last time Dumbledore was in office. Trinkets littered the bookshelves, his desk and the large window sill. Fawkes was sitting on his perch as he snoozed with his head under his breathtaking wing. It even seemed as if the same books laid, collecting dust surrounding the circular room. Her eyes caught on the book that the deceased- er, was deceased?- Headmaster told her to pull from her own time, 'In Genealogia Mortalitatis'. A gentle clearing of a throat from behind her shook her from her thoughts. She simply turned around, sliding her wand back into its holster, her mind screaming to take a protective stance, however her body reminded her of her former alma mater. She never left Hogwarts. Just time and space.
Her round eyes settled on the current Headmaster, and though Hermione clearly knew that he would be alive and breathing; not to mention healthy, it was still a shock. Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes took in his vibrant neon green robes, his bead braided in front of him- a tad shorter than it was when he had died. His head was tilted to the side, his blue eyes taking in the strange woman in front of him. His half-moon glasses were still propped on the end of his nose and the Elder Wand- The Elder Wand! Hermione took in a sharp breath. Her mind raced a mile away. Invisible columns lined behind her eyelids, one column named Horcruxes, another named Hallows, and yet another named 'DIA'- Dead in Action. The last one had bullet points, times and dates, the victim, the accused, the place.
All at once her Occlumency barriers were being pushed against and her eyes shot open, reminding her of who this man is and where she was. This was not the Albuis Dumbledore she knew. This was not the twice war hardened man. No, this was just the happy Headmaster of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. The man who will very soon know of the war brewing right under his nose; that is if he didn't already.
With another breath, Hermione shoulder herself and stood up at her full height, her chin up as her eyes softened- not wanting to concern the Headmaster with her war harden gaze. That was a story for a time to come.
"I'm Hermione Granger, sir. I have a mission from October 31st, 1998. The mission in question was given by Professor Albus Dumbledore, as well as myself with the help of former Deputy Headmistress and current Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall."
Hello you wonderful readers! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter.
Anyway, any guesses as to who invented the TimeKey? I'll have to admit that it's not original by any means.
* I would also like to take a moment to say that you did read it right, Frank and Alice are in the list of names of those who died. I put them there, not only because in all intents, they are dead. Bellatrix's torture on them led them to losing their minds. They weren't there. So for all intents and purposes, they are dead.
* Please note that I did say 'tens' of injured, only because no one knows the exact amount of those injured, so 'tens' is just referring to more than ten, but less than 100.
* I am not religious, however, I did grow up in a Christian household- so I know a few things about religion.
Thank you to my wonderful editor and friend, Micah for editing this chapter for me. If anyone would like to become my official Beta, please shoot me a PM!