Title: Code of the Griffin
Author: Knife Hand
Feedback: Constructive feedback appreciated, flames unappreciated
Spoilers: Nothing Specific, general for first few books.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own Hermione, or Luna, or Ginny, or Cho, or....... I would buy them all but I am broke.
Summary: From a war ravaged future, someone is sent back in time to change the course of the war.
"Hermione, Breakfast." Jane Granger called from downstairs.
"Coming Mum." Hermione called back.
Hermione finished her last set of chin-ups and dropped from the bar. Sweat soaked her training clothes and darkened her hair, which she had pulled back into a ponytail. Grabbing a towel she wiped her face and, slinging the towel over her shoulder, went downstairs for breakfast.
In the two weeks since her arrival, Hermione had been training and waiting. She had arrived in this timeline the morning after her return from Second Year. Her training had been accepted by her parents as she had always wanted to do martial arts and they had been discussing the possibility of lesions when she had gotten her Hogwarts letter, the waiting was for something specific, something she had laid the groundwork for. Hermione sat down to her breakfast. Not the bacon and eggs that she used to have, but fruit, yogurt, toast and orange juice. The breakfast conversation was light, and she only paid partial attention, her mind occupied by a hundred other details and painful memories, when a phrase from the television broke through everything.
"To repeat, the police have released information that a terrorist by the name of Sirius Black has escaped from prison. Black was responsible for the bombing of a street in Wells twelve years ago. Police warn that Black is armed and dangerous and urges members of the public not to approach Black. Any sightings should be reported to…"
"Its time." she said, dropping her spoon and hurrying upstairs.
After a quick shower, Hermione opened an unassuming chest in the corner of her room and walked down into the room contained within. The room was almost an exact replica of her old quarters aboard her flagship 'Might of the Fallen'. Moving over to a pair of the display cases she opened the one on the left and removed a sleek black set of clothing, the gloves and head peice, which looked like a ski mask with goggles, were placed in a small bag made of the same material as the clothes. After quickly dressing in the stealth combat suit, which left only her head and hands exposed, snatched a pair of daggers from the case, slipping them into sheaths in the sleaves of her suit. She glanced at the compact assault rifle before shaking her head and closing the case. Her eyes landed briefly on the other case before she turned and left. It was not yet time for that armour.
Exiting the chest, Hermione went to her normal cupboard and put a pair of denim jeans, a long sleave blouse and boots on over the combat suit. Keeping her hair loose, like Harry would remember it, she went downstairs and joined up with her parents, who lead the way to the car.
The farmstead had stood abandoned for over a decade, and even before that it was used only sporadically by to owner, but always with amazing results. The entire farmstead was completely still with the exception of two feral chickens who were scratching through the dirt and a still heat haze rose off the hard packed clay of the farmyard, more reminiscent of South Africa or the Australian Outback than south east England. The stillness of the farm was broken by the arrival of a lean black dog, which sent the two feral chickens running.
The dog cautiously crossed the deserted farmyard as storm clouds rolled in quickly from the horizon. As the sky darkened the dog abandoned its caution and ran across the yard, but before it reached the stables the skies opened and the entire area was shrouded in a torrential downpour. The heavy rain and intermittent lightning turned the farmyard into a series of snapshots. In the few seconds between lightning strikes the dog that had been almost to the stable disappeared, in its place stood the frozen image of a man, with unkempt black hair and a gaunt physique pushing on the stable door, before the lightning faded and the yard was once again blanketed in darkness.
Inside the stable light bloomed from four lamps, each seeming to light on its own. The man made a search of the stable, making a point to check each and every stall, wand held at the ready. Once he was satisfied he was alone, he slumped down in a stall and let out an exhausted sigh.
"I would have thought," a voice began in a shadow, resolving into a figure dressed from head to toe in black, "That after twelve years in Azkaban, a mere two days on the run would be easy."
The man sprang upright at the first sound, pointing his wand at the figure.
"You'll have to kill me before you take me." He growled.
"Oh do be serious, Sirius. And if I wanted you dead, you never would have made it across the yard." The figure cocked it head. "Besides, if I kill you, Harry will be very angry. Once he finds out who you really are, at any rate."
"Who are you?" Sirius Black demanded.
"I'm the one who's going to ensure you actually get to be Harry's Godfather."
"That'll be Marge." Vernon Dersley said as he opened the door. "You're late."
"Well, I didn't know we had an appointment." A male voice said
"Who the hell are you?" Vernon demanded.
There were three people standing at the door, a well dressed couple and their brown haired daughter who was about the same age as Dudley.
"My name is Hermione Granger. We're here to see Harry Potter." The daughter said.
"Oh. You're one of those freaks." Vernon spat.
Pain flared in Vernon's back and neck. Finding himself held by his neck against the stairs by an irate mother was a wholly unprecedented experience for the heavyset man.
"Harry!" Hermione called. "Grab your gear. We're getting out of here."
Harry and Hermione headed upstairs while the husband kept Dudley and Petunia in the front room.
"Don't you ever say anything like that about my daughter. Ever!" growled the wife. "Abuse of a minor, assault. I can have you locked away in a hole so dark that you'll think daylight is a myth."
Harry and Hermione cam back down the stairs carrying Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage.
"You don't ever want to see us again."
The family and the freak left. Then the realisation dawned. The Grangers. That was the Grangers. The most exclusive and influential Dentist in Brittan. Personal Dentist to the Royal Family, the PM and all the other top government and civil service officials.
"Oh Shit!" Vernon whispered.
Hermione and Harry were heading back toward the Leaky Cauldron, having just finished their school shopping in Diagon Alley, both with their arms loaded with school books and supplies. Hermione also had a cage which contained her 'new' cat.
"We need to talk." Hermione said, just before they entered the back door to the pub.
"Ok." Harry replied.
"Harry! Hermione!" Mrs Weasley called from one of the tables where the Weasley Family was seated.
"Later. Alone." Hermione whispered before the Weasley clan descended.
The Twins were joking with Hermione and Ron was complaining about his pet rat Scabbers having gone missing. Ginny was staring wistfully at Harry until Mr Weasley took Harry off for a little talk. In general it was a typical Weasley dinner. Utter controlled pandemonium. Hermione excused herself as soon as she could and went up to wait in Harry's room. Out of long standing habit, Hermione sat in the corner, the door in front of her and the window to her left, looking out over muggle London. After ten minutes of waiting, Harry finally arrived, and he sat across from Hermione.
"Harry. We need to have a serious talk." Hermione said.
"You're not breaking up with me, or asking me out or anything?" Harry said, slightly nervously. "I just realised how ridiculous that sounds."
"It only sounds ridiculous until you find yourself trap on a spaceship caught in a time dilation field." Hermione said softly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Let me ask you this. Who am I?"
"You are my best friend. Hermione Granger."
"Completely true. Yet wholly inadequate."
Hermione paused for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts.
"This may be hard for you to understand, but I am not exactly the girl you remember. I am from the future." She paused again, taking a drink from the glass on the table to the right of her chair, and looked out the window into muggle London. "We had won the battle but not the war. But there were casualties. Ginny missing for almost a year before we found her body, Neville dead too. Ron badly injured." She trailed off.
"But we won?" Harry asked.
"Sort of. With Voldermort dead, we thought that it was over, but we were wrong. He had a son. The son was smart, in his first move he achieved the unthinkable. He killed you. And the war went on."
Hermione could hear the swell and ebb of the traffic outside the window, punctuated by the horn of a bus. The footsteps and trolley sound of a maid raised and fell as she passed the door. Harry's face, to her practiced eye, showed fear, confusion, sadness, hope, and a myriad of other emotions flashed across. He sat quietly trying to process what he had been told, and Hermione sat quietly to let him.
"Was… Was I happy?" he asked, his voice breaking with nervously and fearfully.
"Yes. I won't lie, there were hard times and a lot of pain, but yes, you were happy. Happily married for ten years. Your final words were that you had no regrets." A single tear rolled down her cheek.
"You were there?"
"Yes. You died in my arms."
A quick knock at the door was immediately followed by Ron.
"Hey. What's going on?" Ron asked, after a quick look at his two best friends.
Hermione looked at Harry and shrugged, letting him make the decision.
"You had better sit down." Harry said to Ron.
TBC…