DISCLIMER: I don't own anything…sadly…
A/N: Well, it's not very very far back… and this is a Ron/Hermione if you have not guessed yet.
Michemix: How do you guess everything so accurately?
"How very far?" Harry asked cautiously.
"Well…" Ron trailed off and held up a potions book and handed it to Harry.
Hermione looked at it, as if daring it to make her cry – she was very close to it. With trembling fingers, Harry opened the cover of the leather bound volume;
"James Potter, Year Seven, Gryffindor"
Harry paled alarmingly quickly and his dishevelled hair was a stark contrast to his whitewashed face.
"What? What is it?" Hermione asked her fingers were violently tugging the hem of her cardigan. "Harry? Answer me!"
When Harry continued to stare at the book without an answer, Hermione snatched the book out of his hands. Her eyes widened in shock.
"Oh my god…Harry…"
Ron was sitting down on the Gryffindor common room couch, staring blankly at the embers in the fireplace.
"So…" Harry took in a shuddering breath. "How…?"
"I don't know! Oh Ron! It's your entire fault!"
"How is it MY fault? I didn't smash the time-turner! You stepped on IT!"
"Yes well if you hadn't spilled juice all over me in the first place, this never would have happened! Honestly you are so stupid!"
"Well if you're so smart, Miss Know-it-all, why don't you go stick your head in a library book and get us the hell out of here?"
"Could you two just shut up?" Harry shouted angrily. He sighed deeply and rubbed his temples. "Come on; stop arguing. We need to think."
There was a brief moment of silence. Then Hermione raised her hand slowly and spoke.
"Well there is only one thing we can do." She gave a pointed glance to the two boys.
"Dumbledore" Harry and Ron said in unison.
The moved slowly from their frozen position and proceeded to the portrait hole when it swung open violently and two boys entered talking loudly.
"We're late for potions!"
"James you idiot – where did you leave your potions book?"
Mouth agape, Hermione handed the book to James.
"Oh. Thank you. Come on, we've got to run!" James snatched the book from Hermione's limp hands and turned back to exit the common room.
"Hang on." The other boy, who could be none other than Sirius, stopped James with an outstretched arm. He pointed at the trio one by one. "You, you and you…who are you exactly?"
"Er…"
"We're um…"
"We, we're just students." Hermione finished lamely. Ron rolled his eyes,
"Oh that's convincing." He muttered.
"Well I didn't see you saying anything but mumbling like an incoherent idiot."
"Well what are we supposed to say genius?"
James and Sirius looked back and forth at Hermione and Ron with an amused expression.
"So where did you come from?"
"We…um…"
"Hey, we're late for potions. Why don't we give them some time to think about it since the require it?" Sirius said, giving a nudge to James and pulling him away. James however, was preoccupied by Harry.
"You…you look exactly like me!"
Harry was used to being compared to his dad, but seeing a living, breathing copy of himself with hazel eyes was just too unusual for him.
"Well…"
"Oh, I've read about these sort of biological resemblance between total strangers!" Hermione said helpfully.
"Oh, yeah. I have absolute confidence that you've read about them." Ron said sarcastically.
"Well I DID." Hermione retorted heatedly. "It may be that you two are very very long distance relatives and the alikeness skipped several generations."
"Yeah…that must be it." Harry said dazedly.
"Well then give me your name. So I can ask."
"I'm Harry."
"Harry…."
"Harry."
James looked at him quizzically. "Yeah. Harry what."
"He's asking for your surname genius." Ron said, a grin gracing his face.
"Oh! It's Granger."
"Harry Granger."
"Yeah."
"Well then. I suppose we'll see you later."
***
"You gave him MY surname? Well then What am I called now? Hermione Potter?"
"Well I couldn't think of a good one and I very well couldn't give him my own surname. Sorry. You can be my sister. Or cousin or something."
Hermione tugged at her hair in agitation.
"Fine."
"And should I be Weasley? What should I be?"
"I don't know. Think some other surname. Just in case."
The trio were not aware what noise they were making, walking down the deserted stone corridors past the suites of armour. The paintings were also looking out from their frames with mild interest. The students in the class did and so did their teachers. One of the teachers that first stuck her head out was unfortunately the strictest teacher in the school.
"What are you three doing out of classes?"
"Professor…McGonagall?"
It was indeed a younger version of the Transfiguration Teacher – she still had her thin mouth and severe countenance though.
"Yes. That is MY name. What is yours? I don't think I've seen you three before…though you look suspiciously like Potter." She said indicating Harry.
The three looked at each other in turn. Hermione spoke up first; after all, McGonagall was her favourite teacher.
"Well. He is Harry Potter, James Potter's son."
The younger Professor recoiled away from them. "What?! James Potter has a son THIS old? This is impossible!"
"Well. See, that's just the thing. We don't belong here. We belong about 30 years from now. In the future." Ron explained.
"Well how did you get here?" she asked disbelievingly.
"A time turner."
"Time turner? What's a time turner?" McGonagall asked, seeming to disbelieve them and getting angry with them every passing minute. "Stop fooling around with me you three, or there will be trouble."
The three blanched. "You don't know what a time turner is?" Hermione asked incredulously. Obviously the knowledge that her favourite teacher may not know everything shook her beliefs.
"No. I don't. Is there such a thing?" she snapped.
"Well, well…you are the one that gave me a time turner."
"I can assure you that I did no such thing."
"You did…in the future."
"So. You three have been fooling around with this…this time turner and have been transported back to the past?"
They nodded.
McGonagall seemed sceptical but didn't look angry. Her lips tightened considerably as she nodded.
She turned and stuck her head in to the classroom.
"There will be no noise when you continue with your work. I shall be back in a moment."
"You three. I will take you to the headmaster's office."
The walk to the headmaster's office was a solemn one – the professor seemed to think their fooling around with time was a serious offence. And it probably was. Hermione hung her head in shame.
"Chocolate Frogs."
As Harry had seen so many times the Gargoyle sprung to life and leaped aside, leading them on to a spiralling staircase.
***
"How far from the future, Mr. Potter?"
Dumbledore was as pleasant as ever, listening to their story with an amused expression on his face.
"Pretty far. We're from the year 1997." Hermione supplied.
Dumbledore sat with his long tapered fingers in front of him, twiddling them, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon (they were the same) glasses.
"So you are Mr. Potter's son…and you must be Mr. Weasley's offspring." He said, indicating Ron.
"Is my father still in school?" Ron asked in alarm.
"No. He has already left. Why?"
"Well…I know this is silly but he is my dad and I don't want him in school with me. It's…weird."
"Tell me about it." Harry muttered.
"And you are?"
"I'm Hermione Granger, Professor."
"Hmm…I don't think I've heard of Granger before."
"I'm a muggle born."
A dark look crossed Dumbledore's face. Harry wondered if…
"Well, it is a hard time for your kind." He said a little sadly.
"You mean Volemort…" Harry said.
Dumbledore looked alarmed. "You know about Voldemort?"
"Yes, Voldemort is waging war against the magical community even as we speak. In my time that is. Volemort killed countless people, he killed - "
Dumbledore suddenly put his hands up. "Harry I must ask you to not…please don't tell me or anyone about what happens in the future."
Harry reddened.
"But if I tell you now, then you might be able to stop him!"
"I don't know what you mean by 'stop him' Harry, but…I'm sorry."
Harry was furious. Hermione was used to this – he was this way in third year too.
"You don't know what you are talking about. You mean I am supposed to allow everything to happen, when I have the power to stop it?"
"Harry," Hermione put her arm on his, "you really can't change time." Harry shook her off roughly.
"Professor, listen to me. You can save the lives of so many people and of so many people's happiness."
"Harry, I refuse to listen to you. You are still young and naïve. There is many things that can happen if you change anything, even a little. Your being here is already change enough – and I cannot tolerate any more. No matter how bleak the future, the events that are to take place must not be changed. I must make this point firm. And I must ask your oath that the future is not divulged to anyone."
Harry nodded in defeat. After all, he had received a similar speech from Dumbledore in his third year – he could not toy with the complexities of time.
"Well then…I thank you, and I do hope your stay here is most enjoyable before we, er…find out a way to transport you back. Meanwhile – you three are in Gryffindor?"
"Yes."
"Then I will have extra beds arranged in the dorms. Minerva? Why don't you give these students the time tables?"
***
Harry was still a little moody about his future after they left the headmaster's office.
"So Mr. Potter you are now called…Harry Granger?"
Harry nodded while Professor McGonagall scribbled his name down on a leather bound book.
"Mr. Weasley?"
"I think I am safe being myself."
"And…Miss Granger?"
"I'm going to be Harry's cousin."
McGonagall checked her wrist watch. "Your next class is with me in…5 minutes."
A/N: a boringish sort of chapter I know – but I needed to explain everything. Reviews are welcome!