A/N: So the pandemic and the accompanying restrictions have left me with a lot of time on my hands and I've decided to return to writing and an age-old idea that I abandoned when I was like 16. I've got about half of this story planned out, I've got a good number of chapters written and I intend to see it through this time. But since I'm also a working, university attending adult, I don't have as much time on my hands as I'd like and neither has my Beta reader, so I won't upload more than once a week or once a fortnight.
Part of why I'm writing is that I want to improve my style and technique, and I really like ambiguity and challenging thing. So this will be a multi-POV work, and I won't always make it immediately obvious when the POV changes because I like reading things like that. I hope this won't confuse you or scare you away or something.
This will probably be angsty and dramatic. It also won't be an Alternative Universe, it'll adhere to canon in a lot of ways. There will be violent scenes and there will be dark themes. But so far, I have planned no scenes of torture or sexual assault or other triggering topics. If I do plan to include triggering content, I will go back and edit this section to give trigger warnings for specific chapters and topics. I will also include trigger warnings at the beginnings of chapters if they contain triggering scenes. I definitely won't include sexual assault or rape - not as graphic descriptions and not as "fade to black" scenes where the characters will then deal with the fall out because it's just not a story line I'm interested in.
So yeah, that's that. I hope this endless author's note hasn't scared you off.
Chapter 1: Smashing Glass
Her heart had been beating so loudly in her chest that she felt like it would at some point just have to give out. Surely no one could be so scared for so long. Hermione could barely hear what Harry was saying over the pounding off it, try as she might to focus. She was afraid her wand would slip out of her sweaty hand any second. If only Harry would finally, finally give them a signal, to attack, to do something, anything, if only this waiting at least would be over.
And then, suddenly, he screamed "NOW!", the voice of her best friend angry and powerful, and she bellowed out the Reductor Curse. As the shelves and prophecies all around them exploded into chaos, someone grabbed her robes and she started running, trying to grasp the person running in front of her, it was Harry, she saw, and then someone grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Stupefy!" she roared, and the Death Eater collapsed on the floor. Harry took a right turn and she looked over her shoulder. "Neville, come on, hurry up, hurry, hur- Reductio!" Another shelf started to collapse, showeing one of Death Eaters with glass shards as Neville caught up with her. She started to run faster again, a door was open in front of her, she could see Harry's anxious face and threw herself over the threshold, turning around immediately to seal the door magically.
"Where – where are the others?", Harry asked and her heart sunk. She had been so worried about making sure Neville was safe, she had just assumed that the others were in front of them. When she suggested that they must have taken a wrong turn, Harry's face turned white as a sheet.
"Listen", Neville said, and Harry pressed his head against the door. For a second, she could catch her breath. Ron would be okay, she was sure of it, he was smart and talented, brave, and so was Ginny and of course nothing and no one could get Luna down.
She looked as if she would faint any second, trembling from head to toe and with a face just as pale as Harry's, who still had his head pressed against the door. "What do we do?" Hermione whispered, looking at Harry, but before Neville could answer, Harry told them to get away from the door. They started running as silently as they could and had almost reached the circular hallway when they heard a loud bang behind them and dived under desks just as the Death Eaters blasted into the room. Neville looked around frantically; Harry was a bit closer to the door but Hermione was further behind them, facing the door as if she had guarded their retreat.
He listened to the Death Eaters cross the room and then decide to check under the desks. He could see Hermione and Harry readying themselves to leap out and stun them. When Hermione did, he could hear the beginning of the killing curse and then a loud grunt. The green jet whizzed past Hermione as Harry tackled one of the Death Eaters, and Neville felt useless and stupid and anxious.
Whirling around, she tried to make sense of the chaos around her – there was a black cloaked body on the floor, clearly unconscious, Harry wrestling with one of the Death Eaters and then two wands flew through the air, back towards the Hall of Prophecies and past her and she lunged after them.
"Hermione, be care-" someone yelled, and as she looked up, she saw the Death Eater throw himself at her. An involuntary shriek left her mouth, and she jumped aside. The Death Eater dived under a desk for his wand and then crawled out from under it on the other side, wand in hand – now there was the desk between them, the weird bell jar on it strangely holding her gaze for a second, and then Harry yelled her name again. A curse was coming towards her, through the jar, the strange glittery wind seemingly attaching itself to the green light while the jar remained unharmed -
She ducked as the curse hit the gigantic cabinet behind her, blasting it apart, and Harry almost let out a relieved sigh. But something wasn't right, as the half-crouched Hermione was being showered with glass, the air suddenly seemed to crackle and burn, weirdly glowing and darkening around his best friend. "Hermione, get away from there!" A red jet of light whizzed past him, missing the Death Eater and instead hitting one of the bigger glass shards mid-flight, blasting it apart.
Hermione could see Harry's mouth move but the words were muffled, as if she was under water. Her skin was prickling – as if she was having an allergic reaction like that time she had accidentally eaten peanuts as a child and the air was vibrating around her. Something exploded, she could feel glass hit her head and then a chill ran down her spine. Something was flying upwards, something glittering but it was like it was pulling the floor upwards with her. The tables behind Harry began to blur and flicker, finally being swallowed by blackness that made Neville disappear, too, she reached out for Harry, his face an expression of utter terror and confusion –
"HERMIONE!" Harry roared as the glimmering and flittering around her thickened, the air now hot and prickly, making the hair on his arms stand. He wanted to run towards her but something was stopping him, he could not move a muscle. Then suddenly someone grabbed his arm, he looked and stared into Neville's terrified face. "What's happening to her?"
"I… I do- don't know, Harry, I…" When he looked back, the glimmering was so bright he had to blink, his eyes started to tear up and as he was furiously wiping them, suddenly the glimmering flashed blindingly and then stopped entirely. The cabinet was whole again, as if had never been damaged, but Hermione was gone.
He had been sitting at the desk for hours, staring at his hands, his mind churning. It was a mild June night, the school year was just nearing its' end. Minchum had been by, using this years' OWL exams as another opportunity to corner Albus. As Ministers for Magic went, he was not entirely bad, certainly more realistic in his analysis of Riddle and the threat he presented but lacking imagination. And, Albus feared, Minchum, too, was blind when it came to the reality that many of his own employees felt some degree of sympathy towards Riddle's ideology. Then again, that was a flaw that did not surprise him at all.
Sighing, Albus stood up and turned to Fawkes. The night was still young and as he considered how he would spend it, he felt the air shift around him. Suddenly, just for split second, the room went cold and dark. There was a loud bang, as if something had fallen onto the floor behind him. When he turned, a girl he had never seen sat crouched on the floor.
She looked ragged and tired and scared, with cuts on her face, her bushy hair streaked with glass. The air around her crackled.
He was younger, she was sure of it, but there was no doubt that it was Dumbledore standing beside his desk, watching her quizzically over his half-moon spectacles. She couldn't help but sob, her whole body convulsing once, twice before she finally got up. Hermione stumbled, her knees felt wobbly and weak, but then she was finally standing. "Professor… I -"
"I beg your pardon, Miss, but I have no inkling of who you are." The girl slumped, a curious expression crossing her face, as if she had expected but dreaded this. Her grip on her wand tightened, and for a second Albus was worried. He allowed himself to feel for her mind for just a second, just to gauge if she was a threat. There was confusion, her thoughts whirling and circling, and something like a deep sadness and fear, but no anger or hatred. Relief even, curiously enough. "What is your name?"
"Hermione Jean Granger. I'm… I'm a fifth year student at Hogwarts. Or… I was. Or will be? I…"
She clamped her mouth shut, suddenly afraid she had said too much. What was the right course of action here? McGonagall had told her that terrible things happened to wizards who messed with time, and what was she doing but messing with time? Still, she hadn't done this, this was an accident and if anyone could help, it was Professor Dumbledore. "I… I was born in 1979."
She tried to read Dumbledore's face, but it was as calm as if she had just told him that magic existed. Had she been wrong, after all? Was she still in her own time? But no, that couldn't be, he had told her that he didn't know her. And he was clearly younger, his face not nearly as lined and tired as it had been when she had last seen the Headmaster. Still, she didn't know what to say, so she just waited, her heart beating in her chest as loudly as it had just minutes earlier in the Ministry.
"How… curious. Well, Miss Granger, this is the year 1976. The eleventh of June, to be precise."
She felt as if a lorry had hit her, and the tears came. 1976. She did not even exist yet. She had not yet been born. Hermione Granger was a distant possibility, and yet here she was, a sixteen year old girl, standing in the office of the headmaster of the school she would attend in fifteen years. Something had happened in the Department of Mysteries, some magic she did not understand, and now she was in the past. Finally, she allowed herself to feel the full weight of it and sat down on the floor, shaking and crying soundlessly.
Suddenly, Dumbledore was crouching on the floor beside her, one hand on her should. "Well, well, Miss Granger, from your reaction I gather that this comes as rather a shock to you. Am I correct when I conclude that arriving her was not your intention?"
The girl shook her head furiously and then tried to steady her breath. With the wand clutched tightly, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Hermione took another deep breath and then suddenly looked determinedly up at Albus. "It was an accident, Professor. I… I don't know how much I can tell you about it. I'm scared. I don't want to mess things up."
He nodded and stood up. "Well, Miss Granger. I would suggest that we sit down more comfortably, maybe get some food or something to drink in you. And then you may tell me what you wish to divulge, and we can see how much of this we can understand." He held out his hand to help the girl up, and when she took it, was surprised at how cold and shaky it felt.
A few minutes later, when the jug of pumpkin juice had been brought and emptied, she seemed calmer, though she had not taken a bite of the pastries in front of her. Albus was weighing his options, trying to decide if he should let her talk or start asking questions or reach out for her mind again to gain a better understanding of the situation. She had seemed to want to start talking a few times, but had always stopped.
Finally Hermione put the mug down on Dumbledore's desk and sat up straight. She felt like she had been sitting a particularly difficult exam, running different scenarios in her mind and still absolutely unable to confidently pick a course of action. Still, she needed to do something, say something. The silence was heavy and she wanted to do nothing more than go to sleep, but she felt like the headmaster would not let her go to bed without some more information. However, the words would not come.
"Miss Granger. I can see that you are terrified, and you must be tired. Your desire not to mess things up, as you put it earlier, honourable as it may be, seems to be hindering your ability to tell me what I must know. I'm afraid I cannot ease that fear entirely, but I hope that you may at least be assured that whatever you tell me will not leave this room without your blessing." Dumbledore's eyes were kind and curious, but Hermione wondered if there wasn't also a hardened glint within them. She was suddenly surer of her impression that she would not get to sleep without telling him something. "You said you came here by accident. Please tell me everything you can about the nature of said accident without divulging circumstances that would illuminate too much of the times ahead."
Suddenly, Hermione felt calmer. She took a deep breath and began talking about the Battle in the Ministry of Magic, starting with the fact that they needed to find something in the Hall of Prophecies and were ambushed by Death Eaters there. Dumbledore's facial expression remained unchanged – calm, interested but otherwise unreadable – even at the mention of the Death Eaters, despite her desperate wish for some hint at what he was feeling. She mentioned no names, but explained that she and two friends had been separated from the rest of their group and fled into a room that was devoted to the study of time. When she described the bell jar, she believed a flicker of recognition crossed the headmaster's face that then turned surprised when she described the Death Eater's deadly curse passing through it. Her voice faltered when she tried to describe precisely what had happened when it hid the glass case behind her. "I… I felt so strange. Like I was lying in a warm bathtub and standing in a freezing storm at the same time. Everything, the room, just kept growing darker and darker, and then there was this flickering, just images, and then… suddenly I was here."
He had never heard of anything comparable. Granted, temporal magic had never been a field he had been invested in, but he had dipped his own toes into the murky waters of time travel in his school years with the approval of the Ministry. Albus remembered the warnings he had been given quite clearly despite the decades that had passed. That had partially been why after he had finished school and with everything that had happened at Godric's Hollow, he had stayed far, far away from temporal magic. It was too tempting, the option of seeing them both again.
But Minerva might be able to be of some assistance, as magic dealing with time was often considered a subset of transfigurative magic, though he wasn't sure how much she had explored it. When he suggested to Miss Granger that they bring her into their confidence, he was surprised but relieved when she immediately agreed.
Minerva, much like Albus, had been unable to sleep. Unlike her close friend, she had decided to escape the weight of her own thoughts for a while. Thus, she had spent the evening in her Animagus form, rolled up comfortably in her favourite armchair, her green eyes intently fixed on one of the photos set on the mantelpiece. When Albus's Patronus appeared, she stretched and reluctantly returned to human form, already preparing for the wave of sadness to crash over her. Loath as she was to admit it, tonight she had been grateful for the simpler emotions of the animal world. Grief was not a constant companion there, she thought as she strode down the stairs from her apartment into the common room.
The room was largely empty, the embers already burning low, but a few students still remained so he kept his voice low when he asked Remus again if he was really sure. "Yeah, Sirius, I am bloody sure. It wasn't there, and then her name appeared in Dumbledore's office out of thin air." Remus jabbed at the bit of parchment that said 'Hermione Granger' as if it had called his mother a rude name.
"Why were you watching Dumbledore anyway, Moony?" Sirius teased, but before he got an answer to his question, Remus hastily deleted the Map and shoved it under his books. Seconds later McGonagall passed by their table, giving them a quizzical but not unfriendly look.
Walking at night, the silence of the castle was striking. Even now, Hogwarts managed to seem like a safe haven. Although it was rarely good when one was called to the Headmaster's office late in the evening; it was usually a sure sign that news of the outside world were about to creep in.
A wave of warmth and affection washed over her when McGonagall entered the Headmaster's office. As much as she had always admired the head of her House, Hermione had never thought that her presence would make her feel so comfortable. Still, the older witch carried with her an air Hermione had never seen before. She seemed exhausted, and sad.
Dumbledore's voice was soft, almost apologetic when he summarized the situation for Minerva. As much as he trusted her opinion, he also wished to spare her, to give her room. And still, he could not help but wonder if a challenge might not also provide some welcome distraction.
"I understand why you hope that I might have some answers, Headmaster." Minerva said after a few minutes of silent pondering. There were few cases that were comparable; most witches and wizards travelled no further back than a few days and accidental time travel had been exceedingly rare since Shakespeare's time and the Ministry's first attempts to regulate it. "But this, unfortunately, is outside of my area of expertise. I also understand why you might hesitate to contact the Ministry about this, but I don't think we have a choice."
The girl in front of Albus' desk noticeably tensed up. She understood distrusting the Ministry, still, that an apparent time traveller shared the sentiment came as a surprise. "None of the cases of accidental or intentional time travel I have ever heard of covered such a temporal distance, or carried this far-ranging implications," she continued. "I can't judge how reversible it is, or how to best handle it. We must ask for the assistance of someone more knowledgeable than me."
She was right, he knew. Albus took his glasses off. "Very well. We must be careful, and I do not think we should use the proper channels to make contact." He saw Minerva open her mouth and held up a hand to stop her. "Miss Granger, you mentioned Death Eaters and a fight, so I assume that despite your youth, you are aware of the turbulent times we live in. Though, for you, they must have been turbulent history."
Hermione nodded. "I do not wish to officially notify the Ministry of your arrival here and the circumstances of it. As much as I trust our current Minister, that trust does not extend to everyone he surrounds himself with. Tom Riddle learning of the possibility of such large scale temporal magic could have unforeseeably disastrous consequences." For a second, he seemed to want to explain who exactly Riddle was, but her nodding again prevented it. Instead, he stood up. "It is quite late, and I can only imagine the toll this day must have taken on you. I think it best that you should sleep in one of the rooms the castle keeps for my guests, and we can continue strategising after a hearty breakfast tomorrow."
Hermione agreed, though she was sure she would not be able to sleep any time soon. Exhausted as she was, she still felt her mind whirling like a carousel. Lying down in the dark was not likely to slow it down. But when she stumbled standing up, she realised that she could barely follow the conversation any longer, much less make decisions.
The Headmaster lead her to one of the bookcases and tapped it with his wand, then up a beautiful marble staircase to the first landing. The room that was lay behind the heavy wooden door was small, but cosy and welcoming, a hearty fire already crackling in the fireplace. The four poster bed was massive, twice as wide as the one in the girls' dormitory, with a bedspread with the school's emblem on it that she crawled under quickly as soon as she was alone. Within seconds, she was fast asleep.