A/N: This is my first story here, so please bear with me as I'm still learning. I've just transferred colleges so my upload schedule may be a bit inconsistent as I try to adapt to the new environment. Hopefully, we'll see an increase in writing quality as the story progresses :)
In my rather extensive exploration of Harry/Hermione fanfiction, I've seen more than a few tropes across fics that I find at least somewhat concerning. So, I thought, why not fix them myself in my own story?
My hope is that the characters in this story accurately fit their characterizations in canon and act and react in a semi-sensible way, not just as characters but as real people. I promise not to make this story an overly 'realistic' thought exercise and I won't make character actions too prudent so the story isn't boring and stale.
Warning: I think I've been pretty clear that I'll be building towards a relationship between Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. If that isn't your thing, you probably won't enjoy the story, sorry about that. Also, I don't exactly know to what degree yet, but there will most definitely be graphic violence. Consider yourself warned on both counts.
Disclaimer: Surprise! I don't actually own Harry Potter or any associated characters. I only use them for my story!
Of course, special thanks to my beta reader marvelousromulus for all her help!
Spells whizzed over Harry's head as he battled his way through the castle's courtyard, but he could hardly care. The last Harry had seen of Hermione was her fighting Bellatrix in the Great Hall, but he knew exactly where he had left Ron. Ron was dead, cut down by a dozen curses fighting a horde of Death Eaters alongside Harry, Neville, and Luna in the Great Hall. The image of the redhead's bloodied, broken body lying motionless on the cold floor of the Great Hall seared itself in Harry's mind. He had to find Voldemort; he had to end this.
As Harry numbly stumbled into the courtyard, he had a full view of the carnage before him. Bodies, both Death Eater and student alike, lay sprawled on the paving stones. Jagged columns and rubble clogged the pathway, forcing Harry to scamper over them as he pressed forward.
With a thunderous crack, a castle tower crumpled under a barrage of Death Eater exploding curses. It fell in slow motion, debris scattering across the battlefield as the structure imploded inwards on itself as it collapsed. The tower hit the ground with an earth-shaking thump, a plume of dust rising from the wreckage, sparkling in the morning sunrise. With a quick Protego charm, the hail of falling bricks shattered harmlessly against Harry's shield.
Nearby, Harry could see Professor Flitwick fighting off a monstrous giant. As Harry watched, the giant swept its spear towards Flitwick, who in turn cast an exploding charm at the oncoming weapon. The spear splintered in the giant's hands, leaving it holding only a small fragment of the shaft.
Ropes shot out of Flitwick's wand and wrapped around the giant's legs. It stumbled and fell, face-planting into a fallen pillar. With a severing charm, Flitwick cut the creature's head clean off. His adversary dispatched and hearing the exchange of more spells inside the castle, Flitwick rushed towards the main courtyard gate.
That was the last Harry saw of him. He pressed further into the courtyard, continuing his hunt for Voldemort.
As he clambered over a particularly large piece of rubble, Harry was met with a Death Eater standing over a defeated student he didn't recognize.
"Stupify!" Harry cast at the Death Eater, sending the man flying into a stone column with a sickening crunch. He hurried to the student's side, only to find that their body was covered in a series of deep lacerations. Sadly, Harry reached out to close the student's lifeless eyes.
"Harry Potter!" Voldemort's voice boomed across the devastated courtyard from behind Harry.
He whirled around, casting a non-verbal Expelliarmus just in time to see a bolt of green light arcing towards him. Their spells met in a brilliant cascade of red and green, connecting the two combatants.
Harry expected some gratuitous boast, a taunt, or victorious monolog, but the sneering Voldemort stayed silent, his cold, snakelike eyes boring into Harry's as their magic cracked against each other.
Suddenly, Voldemort swept his wand to the side, breaking the linked spells, which violently lashed out towards a nearby wall, sending shards flying across the courtyard.
Magic swirled around Voldemort, consolidating into a glowing icy-blue orb, which he released with a yell. Magic rippled across the courtyard in a devastating shockwave, throwing up dirt, broken stones, and bodies. Harry staggered as his shield bore the brunt of the spell, only to be encircled by the dust thrown up by Voldemort's shockwave.
Voldemort twirled his wand with a flick, and the dust turned to chains, which wrapped around Harry, squeezing him and lifting him up a few feet into the air. "Relashio," Harry cried. The chains snapped under his spell, freeing him as they fell away. He dropped to the ground gasping for breath, only to hear Voldemort's next spell.
"Avada Kedavra."
Harry Potter's dead body dropped to the ground with a flash of light.
Harry woke with a start, his whole body feeling like it was on fire, but the feeling faded sharply. He was seated in an armchair sat in front of a large mahogany desk covered with stacks of papers. The sound of a quill on paper could be heard, but Harry couldn't see anyone over the mess.
I must have been dreaming, Harry thought. But then where am I? He looked around the office, looking for a door or exit, only to find all four walls covered in bookshelves and old paintings.
Suddenly the scratching of the quill stopped, and a man's face appeared over the papers.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, just finishing this-" the man paused as he recognized who was sitting in front of him. His face contorted with anger as his eyes narrowed at Harry.
"POTTER?" he bellowed, nearly jumping over his desk. Papers scattered across the floor as the man shoved a few stacks aside to better look at Harry with pure contempt. "What are you doing here?" he growled.
"Uh I died, I think," Harry said, perplexed. "Who are you and what is this place?"
The man didn't answer, but instead turned and started rifling through the papers on one side of his desk. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled a very large manila folder out of a stack and opened it. He looked back at Harry.
"Of course you died, that's why you're here," the man said as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. "Do you know how many dead people have come through this office recently? Dead before their time, because of your actions! I would have thought that after the last few times you would have learned your lesson and finally figured it out!" The man's voice rose at the end and he slammed the folder onto the desk unceremoniously.
"What do you mean, the last few times?" Harry asked, shifting in his chair uncomfortably.
The man's face flickered in realization, his anger receding slightly. "Of course, you don't remember anything do you?"
Harry nodded.
"Right," the man said, clearly frustrated. "I'm Death," he said, motioning to himself. "This is my office."
"Death, like the Grim Reaper?" Harry questioned. "And I can see it's an office," he retorted.
"The Angel of Death, Grim Reaper, Thanatos - I go by many names," Death said. "Right now you're in a limbo of sorts, not truly dead, but not exactly alive," Death continued. "Think of it as purgatory, although a processing stage might be a more appropriate description."
"So if I'm not dead and not alive, what happens next?" Harry asked. "And what did you mean,
'the last few times?'"
Death leaned forward. "This is now the sixth time you've been here. Each time you die I've sent you back in time to try again and fulfill your destiny, but you just keep dying when you aren't supposed to!"
"Well that's not exactly fair," Harry said irritably. "How am I supposed to 'fulfill my destiny' if I can't remember what I did wrong the previous time?"
"I'm sure you're aware that seven is a magically significant number," Death said, to which Harry nodded in acknowledgement.
"Good." A piece of paper materialized in Death's hand.
"Since you have died six times now, this will be your seventh and final opportunity to make things right. I'm going to send you back with your memories of your most recent attempt. That way, you can finally fulfill your destiny by defeating Voldemort, marrying your soulmate, and living to the old age of 150."
"This contract," he shook the paper in his hand, "will allow you to keep your previous memories but also states that you understand that you are on your final chance. If you don't get it right this time, I'm afraid the fate of your soul is out of my hands then. Any questions?"
"I have a soulmate?" Harry asked incredulously.
"That's what you're concerned about," Death said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "Yes Mr. Potter, you have a soulmate. Oh don't look so surprised, you've known her for years. Hmm… I can't seem to remember…" He paused. "Oh, it's that Granger girl isn't it."
Death picked up the folder again, opening it. "Here," he said, tracing the paper with his finger until he found the section he was looking for. "Soulmate: Hermione Jean Granger."
"Hermione? But that doesn't make any sense"
"Doesn't it?" Death asked sincerely. "Think about it for a second."
Harry thought back to his fourth year when everyone else had all but abandoned him, even Ron. He remembered the hunt for the Horcruxes, running the DA, and the Basilisk. A certain brown-haired witch had remained a constant throughout his life. He couldn't forget about the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and hadn't she Obliviated her parents and sent them away so she could remain in Britain to help him? After all, why not? Harry thought. Why doesn't it make sense?
"Then why didn't we get together in this previous timeline?" Harry asked.
Death grimaced. "Likely due to the Horcrux in your head messing with you. They're a vicious piece of magic, even by my standards. Don't worry, you won't have it when I send you back this time. Also, I should warn you, make sure to keep an eye out for things such as love potions, they can really screw with someone's emotions."
"I'm still not sure about it," Harry said. "How exactly does your paperwork say we're supposed to get together."
Death smiled at him. "That you're going to have to figure out for yourself. Your destiny is more of a finish line than a roadmap, it's up to you to figure out how to get there. And telling you wouldn't be much fun would it."
"That's entirely unhelpful," Harry scoffed. "When would I be sent back?"
"Finally," Death exclaimed. "On to more prudent questions." He looked at his wrist, and a watch appeared. "Right now the earliest I can send you back at the beginning of your fourth year, but it'll only be later the more time you spend here."
"So I'd have to repeat the entire Triwizard tournament all over again?" Harry said, frowning. "Yeah, no thanks. Thank god Hermione stuck with me then, otherwise who known where I'd-"
He hesitated for a second. Hermione hadn't just stuck with him that year, she had helped him beat the dragon as well. More often than not, her planning and intellect were the reason he survived his perilous time at Hogwarts, and if she hadn't stayed with him when Ron left in the middle of the Horcrux hunt…
"Wait," Harry blurted out as Death glared at him. "Hermione would be fourteen then, and she wouldn't have her memories from the past three years. I need her help with this, I would have died much earlier than just a couple of minutes ago if it wasn't for her. If I'm the only one sent back, Hermione would mostly be playing catch-up with me. Might as well take my soul now, since I'll likely be worse off sent back."
"What exactly do you want me to do?" Death asked.
"Can't you send Hermione back with her memories too, or would that be ruined by the whole soulmate thing?"
Death thought about the idea, scratching his chin. "That's not actually a bad suggestion, seeing as she has just as important a part to play in this as you do. Why don't we get her and ask?"
With a snap of Death's fingers, the room swirled out of existence, and Harry found himself standing back in the Hogwarts courtyard he had just died in only a few minutes ago. Startled, he looked around wildly, and something by his foot caught his eye. He looked down to find his own pale, lifeless face staring back at him, the lingering green aura of the killing curse still fading away. Voldemort's sinister laugh echoed off the stone construction, or rather destruction, around them.
"Don't worry," Death's voice said as Harry stumbled away from his dead body. "We're just observers here."
He appeared next to Harry and calmly checked his watch again. "Should be only a few moments," he muttered.
"Dead!" Voldemort exclaimed. "Harry Potter is dead for the second time!" He drifted over to Harry's body, passing through Death as he did.
He loomed over Harry's corpse, the triumph of his victory evident in the gleam of his eyes. Pointing his wand once again at dead Harry, Voldemort cast the killing curse a second time. Green light once again enveloped the body on the ground before him.
"No more second chances," Voldemort murmured.
"NO!"
A flurry of spells rained towards Voldemort, who frowned and stepped backward as he hastily shielded himself. Hermione, clad in her pink jumper and jeans, stood at the entrance to the castle, her wand held defiantly towards Voldemort. Her clothes were covered in grime and blood, and her tangled hair was barely contained in a ponytail.
She stared hollowly at Harry's body, fresh tears cutting clean tracks across her dirty cheeks. Her wand trembled slightly as she stood frozen in disbelief. It was only Voldemort's harsh laugh that snapped her from her grief-stricken daze.
Hermione looked up, her eyes flaring with pure hatred. "Get away from him," she said, her voice cracking.
Voldemort smiled. It was more of a grimace than a smile, but at least he tried. "Foolish girl," he said. "You will all die, just like him. I've already won."
Hermione lunged forward, silently casting a volley of spells, which Harry recognized as a mix of blasting and cutting curses. Voldemort's shield charm deflected most, and with a wave of his wand a large slab of stone levitated in front of him, blocking the remainder. With a flick of his wand, Voldemort banished the slab towards Hermione, fragmenting it and propelling hundreds of stone splinters at her. Hermione raised her wand and was transfiguring the splinters into butterflies when-
"Avada Kedavra."
"Hermione!" Harry yelled as her body fell to the ground, her vine wand rolling out of her hand. He tried to run towards her but found himself unable to move.
"Relax," Death said nonchalantly. "You'll see her when we go back to the office. We're almost done here; now watch what happens next."
Death Eaters gradually began to gather around Voldemort as more of the castle's defenders fell to their wands. Surrounded by his followers, Voldemort launched into a victorious boast, but Harry couldn't break his eyes away from Hermione.
"Look up and to the south," Death said from Harry's side. "A little over two hours ago, the Muggle prime minister got word of a massive wizarding battle in Scotland. It seems that Voldemort's hatred of muggles and his threats against them weren't well-received, since the prime minister decided to take matters into his own hands this time."
A sonic boom shook the desolate battlefield, interrupting Voldemort's gloating. In the distance, Harry could see three Royal Air Force fighters streaking across the sky towards the castle. They drew closer, banking over the lake before climbing higher into the clouds, disappearing from view. Bombs dropped towards what was left of Hogwarts and its surrounding grounds, until blinding bursts of light bathed the surrounding area in a brilliant glow.
Unaffected by the explosions, Harry watched in shocked silence as Voldemort, his Death Eaters, Hermione's body, and the ruins of Hogwarts and her grounds were instantly vaporized by the simultaneous detonation of three tactical nukes.
"A valiant last stand for Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix," Death remarked as a glowing mushroom cloud slowly formed over the razed battlefield. "And a definitive end for both survivor and conqueror."
"Now, it's time to go" Death emphasized as the world swirled around them once more, Death's office reappearing around them. This time, another armchair sat beside Harry's, and sitting in it…
"Harry?" Hermione exclaimed in disbelief. Harry's breath caught in his throat. She looked just like she did before she died, except no longer covered in dirt and blood. She had been clutching her chest in pain, but was now staring wide-eyed at Harry, her mouth hanging open.
"Hi Hermione," Harry said lamely.
Breaking her shock-induced stupor, Hermione leaped out of her chair and crushed him with a hug.
"But-" she started. "I saw you die, again." She shuttered. "And I think- I think I died too? How-"
Death sat down in his chair. "Miss Granger," he sighed. "Please take a seat. This is going to be a lot to explain. Again."
Once Death had finished giving the explanation he had given to Harry, a thoroughly overwhelmed Hermione sat in silence for a minute, attempting to process what she had just heard.
"So Harry and I are soulmates?" she said questioningly.
"Yes, you are," an indignant Death said. "Why's that so hard to understand? You don't have other questions? You know, about fulfilling your destinies, keeping your memories, and defeating Voldemort?"
"Of course I do," Hermione huffed. "But doesn't telling us that we're soulmates make it a self-fulfilling destiny, where we only get together because we're told that we're each other's soulmates? Do we have any choice in it?"
"I suppose you're free to choose other people if that's what you wish," Death said hesitantly. "But it will never be a completely fulfilling relationship. Why do both of you seem opposed?"
"It would be a rather big jump in our relationship as it is now," Hermione reasoned, while Harry nodded his agreement. "I guess I never really considered it," she said thoughtfully, her brow furrowing.
"Why don't we move on and I'll let you two figure that out later," Death said, eager for a change in topics. "Now, Miss Granger, you mentioned you had more questions?"
"Oh yes," Hermione said a bit distractedly. "If someone were to successfully use legilimency on either of us, wouldn't they be able to see that we're from the future? Are we allowed to tell other people about what we know about the three years ahead?"
"To answer your first question: no, your previous memories will be protected against legilimency. However, I can only protect those memories, the rest of your memories and thoughts from your new timeline won't have any of my protection. As for sharing your knowledge about the future, the contract is very clear about not sharing information about the future, or this conversation, to anyone."
The contract reappeared in Death's hand and he set it on the desk, sliding it before the two teenagers. He placed an inked quill on the paper. "Both of you have to sign here," he said, motioning to the very bottom. "I've modified the contract to incorporate Miss Granger as well. Once you both sign, I'll send you back."
Harry looked at Hermione, and their eyes met. He didn't need to ask the unspoken question, and Hermione's answer was just as silent. A second - or rather seventh - chance to make things right. To save lives and defeat Voldemort. And maybe there could be something more for both of them along the way.
"We'll do it," Harry said. Taking the quill, Harry carefully signed his name where Death had indicated and passed it to Hermione. She took it, and with shaking hands signed her own name next to Harry's.
"Good luck and I better not see either of you in this office for the next hundred years or so," Death said. With a wave of his hand and a sharp crack, Harry and Hermione disappeared from the office in a flash of light.
Death reached across the desk and took the contract, duplicating it and filing a copy away in both Harry's and Hermione's folders. A cup of coffee appeared in his hand as Death took one last look through Harry's folder, once more finding the section on his destiny.
"Well, this will certainly be more interesting than last time," he said with a smile.
A/N: Obviously heavily influenced by Reptillia28's 'Don't Fear the Reaper' challenge, which has been around for at least a decade. Also, the Muggles nuking Hogwarts was inspired by TomHRichardson on AO3(awesome idea).
Also, RAF fighters used are all Panavia Tornado F3s, which are nuclear-capable multirole fighters active during 1998.