Time Is The Longest Distance

A/N: Set in canon after HBP and told predominantly from Hermione's perspective, this story follows the trio on their journey to find and destroy the remaining horcruxes and eventually face The Dark Lord himself. When the situation becomes dire, Hermione has an opportunity to turn back time, for better… or worse?

Love, lust, loss, laughs, a little sex, a little death.

Pairings will run rampant in this story, including but not limited to: Hr/R, Hr/H, Hr/D, H/G, D/G, Lupin/Tonks, and Lupin/Sirius (in pensieve memories and recollections, of course).

Read and review, please.

Disclaimer: All characters and most concepts are the sole property of J. K. Rowling, although I am grateful to borrow them for the purposes of this fanfiction.

(This chapter is a bit short, forgive me, but there'll be a new one out quote soon, I promise!)

Chapter Two

Hermione had known Ginny Weasley for quite some time, now, and the two girls were close. Flaming red hair was not the only Weasley trait Ginny had inherited. She also possessed the Weasley temper which came in sudden fits that burned fast and hard. Hermione had witnessed Ginny unleash her temper on every last one of her brothers, and even on Harry, once, when she discovered he'd been carelessly following instructions scrawled in the margins of his potions book. After her experience with Riddle's diary, Ginny wouldn't stand for such behavior and made that loud and clear.

So although Hermione had witnessed this smoldering fury before on several occasions, she never imagined what it would feel like to be standing on the receiving end.

Ginny stood with her right hip cocked to the side, her arms crossed in front of her, and her dark eyes narrowed into tiny slits.

Hermione tried frantically to send facial telegraphs. Her eyes widened, her eyebrows raised so alarmingly they nearly disappeared into her hairline. Come on, Ginny, she thought desperately. Don't be ridiculous.

"Have you seen Ron yet, then?" Ginny asked.

"No," Hermione said. "He's busy, I expect."

"Well someone ought to get him over here, as Harry's going to ask me to dance any second now, and I'd hate to leave you on your own."

"I'm going to what?" Harry asked, blankly.

"Ask me to dance," Ginny said deliberately. "Yes, any second now."

For a moment Hermione actually believed that Harry would do as he was told. There was a soft, willing look in his eyes when he gazed at Ginny, and Hermione was prepared to accept that the two of them would soon twirl off into the crowd and leave her to manage being a wallflower as best she could. The moment passed.

"Seems as though you've got quite a suitable dance partner already," he said.

"Oh, Harry…" Hermione moaned.

"For your information," Ginny began scathingly, "That boy just happens to be my new cousin by marriage. So I don't think you have to worry about one measly dance between relations!"

"Well why dance with him at all, then?" Harry demanded.

"It's not as though you'd asked me!"

"Well if I was planning to, I'm certainly not about to go on with it now!"

"Oh no," Ginny retorted. "Not when you've got Hermione to dance with."

"The two of you are being ridiculous!" Hermione said, finally.

Harry scuffed his shoe in the grass. "Look," he said. "I didn't… I mean, I don't… I'm sorry."

Ginny stared at him for a moment. "Sod off," she said, turning her back and walking away.

"Bloody hell!" Harry swore.

"You should go after her," Hermione said quietly.

"A lot of help you've been."

"Yes, because it's all my fault."

Harry stared at her.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I don't see why you had to go and change your hair. You look completely different. It's eerie and I don't like it."

"As if that's got to do with anything."
"It does!" Harry insisted. "You look like a girl."

Hermione could not believe it. "Changed your name to Ron, then, have you?" she said severely. "I am a girl, you git. So terribly sorry to inconvenience you!" And with that she stormed off toward the house.

Once inside, she made her way to the kitchen, which was empty. Hermione sat down at the table and played idly with the fraying edge of the tablecloth. Nothing was going as planned. Hermione knew that Ginny would soon come to her senses, but she couldn't make head or tail of Harry's outburst. What will tomorrow be like, she wondered, when we set out for Godric's Hollow?

A lot had happened in the last year, and Dumbledore's death had touched Harry in a place that Hermione doubted even Sirius' death had disturbed. Harry was very likely marching off toward his death and of course he was bound to be unnerved by it. Still, if he continued to be as erratic as he'd been this evening, Hermione didn't think any of them had much of a chance for survival.

Hermione heard footsteps coming up behind her and, without turning around, said tiredly, "Harry, if you say one more word about my hair tonight, I'll scream."

She was jerked roughly out of her chair with her arms pinned behind her as someone leaned over her shoulder and whispered silkily in her ear, "Not another word, Mudblood, or I'll give you a real reason to scream."

Draco Malfoy's wand was pointed directly at her throat.