Chapter 6: History Repeats

2062

Harry Potter sat at his desk, wading through the mountains of parchment that his assistant Enid said absolutely had to be finished that day. He'd made it through about a quarter of them and the thought that Hermione would laugh at him, being so studious and diligent at his paperwork, came to him for a moment. It caught him off-guard, the memory of her disappearing once more. Things had been steadily growing back to normal, but as he took off his glasses he wondered exactly how things could ever truly get back to whatever 'normal' was these days. He took the parchment in front of him, scanned it for a moment and then signed it, placing it on top of the smaller pile.

He'd been thinking of Hermione more and more lately, especially as Jack was dealing with things in what Ginny called the 'Potter way.' In other words, bottling things up and ignoring everything. He'd invited Jack out to dinner but had just received a reply saying 'Thanks, maybe next time.' He knew that he'd been having a hard time with Hermione gone, and Ginny as well, but his grandson seemed inconsolable. He sat back for a moment and then pushed the little button on the side of his desk.

It didn't take long and the door opened. Enid stood there, small dicta-table in her hands. "Yes, boss?"

"I'm not finishing these today."

She sighed. "If you don't..."

He cocked his head at her. "Will the world end?"

"Well, no..."

"Then it can wait." He stood up, put on his glasses and took his robe from the nearby hook. As Enid began to say something he shook his head. "Listen, I'm the bloody Minister, right? Tomorrow."

Enid nodded, as she knew what he was like when he got in one of his moods. With a resigned sigh she went over to the desk, took the very small amount of parchment in the 'done' pile and left.

"Good. Glad that's sorted." Harry finished putting on his robe, took a look at the slightly battered watch on his wrist and made up his mind. Nobody was going to stop him on the way out of the Ministry, none of the 'a moment, Minister' meetings that seemed to happen every bloody time he left work. He opened the door and headed down the empty hallway to the lift, hoping his luck would hold.

It didn't. As he was waiting for the lift he heard his name and turned back to see Charity Weasley-Jones waving at him. He contemplated stepping into the newly-arrived lift and simply avoiding her but when she called out his name again he heard something in her voice that made him stop. With a sigh he turned back towards her and let the lift go. "Yes, Charity? Can we make it quick, I'm leaving for the day."

She hurried up to him. "We've got a problem."

He rolled his eyes. "I approved the funding."

"What? No. That's fine, but..." She held out a dicta-tablet to him. "Something went wrong. Hermione..."

"What?" He looked at the spinning spheres on the tablet and felt a sense of dread. "What do you mean there's a problem?"

"Herbie and I finally got the results back from when she left, and...she didn't go back to when she left. She went too far back."

"Too far back? Charity?" He felt his stomach begin to churn. "Come on, you can tell me on the way."

"Where are we going?"

"The Library." He turned to her as he pushed the button on the lift again. "I was going to see Jack."

"Oh no." Charity shook her head. "The poor boy. Poor Hermione."

The lift opened and he got in, Charity following quickly. He pushed the button and turned to her. "So when you mean too far back..."

-ooo-

Jack sat at his desk, the cup of tea grown cold next to the eighteenth century diaries of a wizard from Brixton. He was supposed to go through the diaries, and index them, but his heart wasn't in it. His heart hadn't been in anything, not really, since she'd left. He'd gone through the motions, said the right things, and did what was expected of him but that was about it. Every night he'd gone home after work to his flat, kicked off his shoes and done nothing. Sometimes he would forget to eat, realising it in the middle of the night when his stomach woke him up. All of his family tried their best, really, but for the most part he just wanted them to leave him alone. Merlin, his father was even being nice to him and that just about made him want to vomit, as he knew it had to be bad if his father didn't once mention working for him.

He knew that it had to be really bad when he came home and found Mitzy, his grandmother's favourite house elf, cleaning his flat and cooking away. It hurt to see her there, because it made him remember that night out on the house elf land. Apparently it did the same for Mitzy because after serving dinner she surprised the hell out of him by sitting down with him. He ate for a bit and then Mitzy began to talk about Hermione, and then there, at his table, it all came rushing out. Mitzy listened, and comforted him, eventually putting him to bed as if he was four and staying over with his grandparents.

Now he sat at his desk and looked at the diaries once again, trying to muster the energy to work. He knew that he couldn't live in the past, that he had to move forward, but how? She was unlike any other woman, let alone witch, he'd ever known. She actually listened when he talked about books, magical history, but more than that she was actively engaged in the conversation. And then there was her hair, Merlin he loved her hair, how it was wild around her face, as if it had a mind of it's own, how it felt against his chest…

"Jack! Jack, you there?"

"Granddad?" Jack turned from the desk and turned to see not only Harry but Charity as well. From the look on her face he knew it wasn't good. "What happened?"

"Jack..." Harry came forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "Charity...it went wrong, Jack."

He stood up suddenly. "What do you mean it went wrong? What..."

"Here." Charity pushed the dicta-tablet towards him. "Tell me what you make of it."

He looked down, knowing that the Department of Mysteries stuff was probably out of his league, but frantically read. Two globes spun on the dicta-tablet, one going anti-clockwise at a fairly slow rate but the other one spinning clockwise rapidly. "I don't understand."

"Here." Charity took the tablet and held it in front of him. "The first sphere is our time. It's moving normally. The other one is the destination time, and, well, you can see." She paused. "They should both be going the same speed. The intersection is where she should be, but since the other one is moving too fast...she went too far back."

He looked up at her, deadly serious. "How far back?"

Charity sighed. "Herbie and I agree, but we aren't sure. Our best guess is sometime in the 1940's."

"The Forties?" Jack was incredulous. "But that's...the war, hell, Grindelwald!"

Harry nodded solemnly. "I know, Jack. I know."

Jack snatched the tablet back from Charity and stared at it. "Bloody fucking hell. Fuck!" He sat on the edge of his desk, unconcerned about the teacup that spilled onto the floor. "So how do we fix it?"

"Fix it?" Harry looked at him, studying him carefully. He knew his grandson and could only imagine what was going through his mind. "Jack...Jackie, I don't know if we can."

"Bollocks!" Jack shook his head and pointed at Charity. "If you and your lot could send her back you can fix this. You're going to fix this."

Charity sighed. "Herbert is working on..."

"Then tell him to fucking work harder." Jack tossed the tablet to Charity. She barely caught it but he wasn't concerned; instead he focused on his grandfather. "She's been gone a month. If it's when...it could be...it's a war, Granddad."

"And she's been in a war." Harry took Jack by his shoulders. "Listen, we will do everything we can, everything. I've given Charity top priority, anything she needs. You have to give them time."

"Time. Right." Jack sneered disgustedly. "Time."

Harry turned to Charity. "I'll stop by later. Send me an e-owl the minute you find out anything." After Charity left he felt utterly drained. It was bad enough when she left, that gave them some sort of closure, but now everything was torn open again. "She the smartest witch I've ever known. If anyone could make it back then I'd put my gold on Hermione."

Jack shook his head. "She doesn't know what they did. She can't do the ritual on her own." He drummed his fingers angrily on the desk, thinking. "How much wizarding history does she know?"

"Well..." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "She's well read, of course, but she was raised a Muggle. Binns was horrible at teaching history..."

"Exactly. Exactly." Jack turned at went to his desk, pulled out his wand and tapped the white orb fastened to the upper left corner. "Materials request, Wizarding Britain, 1939 to 1950. Wizangamot minutes, Auror files, birth records, death records, Hogwarts student roster, Hogwarts staff roster, St. Mungo's patient files authorisation JP334, Ministry war effort files clearance level Sigma Six. Single tablet, indexed by year. Priority one." The orb glowed blue for a moment, then flashed green and turned back to white. He turned to Harry, his jaw set. "If they can send her, they can send me."

"Jack? Are you mental, son?" Harry shook his head. "It's too dangerous. You could..."

"To be honest I really don't care." He turned to his inbox and saw a thick dicta-tablet land with a 'whump' that even the cushioning charm couldn't disguise. "It's not right."

As the phrase 'what is right, or what is easy' sped through his thoughts Harry sighed. "They said that it would work for her because she'd already travelled through time. You haven't. You know what happens..."

"To witches and wizards that meddle with time. Yeah. Noted. Now if you'll excuse me I need to be left alone. I've got a lot of work to do." He grabbed the tablet and looked at his grandfather. "Promise me you'll tell them what I want, and you'll tell me the minute, the minute they find out anything. I've never asked you for..."

"No, no you haven't." Harry felt the energy begin to drain out of him. What was he going to tell Ginny? "I will. I promise."

Jack fixed him with a glare. "Marauder's promise."

Harry stared at him in shock. "How did you know about that?"

"George." He looked at him. "I'm waiting."

Harry nodded his head silently. He wished his father, Remus or Sirius would have been there so he could chew them out, but he knew Jack would never be satisfied until he said it. "Fine. Marauder's promise."

"Good. You know where to find me."

As Jack left the office Harry sat down in his chair and rubbed his arm, the spot where a blade had pierced his skin unwillingly ages ago. It bothered him on occasion, and Ginny told him it was only his mind playing tricks on him, but it didn't allay his fears.

-ooo-

His family tried to contact him but he'd turned off the Floo. For a week he sat with the tablet, trying to make connections, hoping that he wouldn't suddenly find her name amongst the files, in the list of war dead or injured or, Merlin forbid, in the Janus Thickey ward at St. Mungo's. That was a distinct possibility, as they would easily assume that she was mental if she told them the truth. Perhaps they would believe her, but knowing what he did of the timeframe Jack didn't have much faith in that. He'd sent an e-owl to his boss at the Library and surprising had a return reply, stating that his request to use holiday time was not approved but his absence was excused owing to the 'special project' the Minister for Magic had assigned him. He'd been quite happy with that, as his Granddad had obviously honoured his Marauder's promise in more ways than one.

On the eighth day of his frantic studying there was a knock on his door about supper time. Since Mitzy had been bringing him meals, and he'd unfortunately yelled at her the first time she surprised him by popping in, she had taken to knocking at the door. He sat the tablet and his parchment aside and went to the door, looking down in anticipation of the little house elf but instead of seeing Mitzy's bobbing ears he saw knees. Looking up he saw his granddad, but then saw that Harry was not alone. He left the door open and walked back to his table and sat down, picking up his tablet.

They walked in, slowly, looking around the room. Maggie, his mum, shook her head at the state of his flat but then went over and put her arms around his shoulders, kissing him on the head.

As everyone found someplace to sit or stand he looked up at them. "I know why you're here."

"Jack...Jack..." His father looked at him from across the table. "You can't do this."

He shook his head. "You can't stop me. I'm not ten."

James turned to his wife. "Mags..."

"Jack, I'm worried. We're all worried." She sat down in the chair closest to him and put her hand on his arm. "What will happen if you succeed?"

He looked over to his mum, the worry plainly seen on her face. He softened a bit. "Then she'll be safe. It's the forties, Mum."

Ginny looked to Harry, but the conversations they'd had during the last week hadn't settled anything. Harry had promised to help send Jack back to Hermione, and while she wanted her friend safe, she didn't want to lose both of them. That part of her brain usually won out, trying to keep everyone safe, but in the small hours of the morning, when she couldn't sleep, Ginny had gone to her sitting room and looked through her book of family pictures. More than anything she wanted Jack to be happy, and she thought back to seeing her grandson and Hermione together, how happy they both were. She'd made her decision, but she wasn't sure how her husband, or her son and his wife, would take it. She cleared her throat. "Jack, Charity has news. Don't you, Charity?"

Jack looked up and there, next to his uncle Ron, was Charity, a tablet in her hands. "You do?"

"We do." She walked forward and put the tablet down on the table. "It won't be the exact same ritual as hers. You haven't had the time skips or made the wish on the moon in that specific location. But we do have a theory."

"A theory?" James shook his head incredulously. "You're going to send him back on a bloody theory?"

Charity gave James a stern look. They'd never really got on, even as kids. "Do you want me to give you the Arithmancy? I am not...I did not train..."

"Charity, love." Ron leaned against a wall. "Enough." He looked to Jack. "From what she told me, and to be honest the first part when she did the theory was enough to make my head spin, but what she told me was that it's like the ritual crossed with Apparition."

Jack looked to Charity, hopeful. "Like Apparition?"

She nodded. "Determination, destination and deliberation, but the difficulty is that you will not be trying to move through time to a specific location, instead you would moving towards a specific person."

"Bollocks." James shook his head. "Everyone knows you can't do that. It's not possible."

Ginny had been watching the interplay long enough. "Stop it! All of you. Stop it right now, especially you, James Sirius." She pointed her finger at him. "Everyone knows you can't travel through time. Everyone knows you can't so it must be true. Just like everyone knows your father..." She looked over to Harry and after a moment he simply nodded. "Charity, please explain. And no interruptions."

Charity took a deep breath and began; the ritual would be modified from the one that sent Hermione back. Instead of using sand they would have to use sand mixed with blood, his blood. The water in the basin would have to be brought over from the island, once it was obtained from under the full moon. And since he was going to her, instead of to a time, they would need something personal of hers.

Jack sat back, stunned. He didn't mind the blood, not really, although blood rituals were very frowned upon as bordering on dark magic. He would have to wait on the water as he was trying to figure out when the full moon would be on the island, and then it hit him. He didn't have anything of hers. "I'm screwed." He looked up at them. "I'm screwed, damn it. Damn it to hell. I don't have anything of hers."

The room was quiet for a bit until Ron cleared his throat. As everyone looked at him Ron only looked to Jack. "You really love her, don't you?"

Jack sat there, his emotions swirling. Once again he felt his mum's hand on his arm. "Mum?"

"A mother can tell, Jack. You do, don't you?"

He looked into his Mum's eyes and knew, as he did when he was little and his brother and sisters yelled at him for it, he could never lie to Mum. Something in him just made it impossible, branding him the family snitch. Luckily back then it had only been things like Elizabeth pinching firewhiskey from the cabinet or when Willy and Sarah 'borrowed' brooms. But now it was much different, as if she was looking into him. "I do, Mum."

"It's what I thought." Ron took a deep breath. "I've got her books. You can come over and pick one out, but I've got an idea what will work best."

Off in the corner Harry began to laugh. "History of Magic. Has to be that one."

"My thought as well." Ron looked over to James, still upset. "Jamie, what do you want for your kids? As a father? Really want for them."

James caught his wife's eyes and saw her nod. "To be happy."

"That's right." Ron walked over and stood by James. "Nobody ever said being a parent was easy. You hope for the best and do what you can. If he stays here, knowing that he could go but doesn't, do you think he'll ever be truly happy? He loves her. You heard him say it." He tilted his head towards Jack. "You figured it out a hell of a lot quicker than me, but..." He shook his head. "It was never going to work with us. You two? Merlin, it's like you were born for her. All that swotty..." He heard Ginny clear her throat. "Right. Sorry. Charity, how long?"

"About week." She picked the tablet up off the table, flipping to a different section. "A week plus two days."

"Right. There you go." Ron looked over to Ginny. "Now that's sorted, and we know what'll happen, it's time to eat. You wanna call your elf or mine?"

-ooo-

1947

The wireless played softly in the sitting room as Hermione watched Eugenie rock Mikey, edging him towards sleep. Once again she sang the lullaby, and as she moved through the words Hermione followed along in her head. She couldn't call the baby Dad, that was just too wrong, so she followed suit and called him Mikey. It was still exceedingly odd, holding her own father, playing with him, occasionally feeding him but she did draw the line at changing his nappies. There were some lines that simply could not be crossed.

The past week and such had been fascinating. Not only did she get to know her grandparents but it was a study of nature vs. nurture; there were things that were similar between her and Eugenie, obviously the hair, not to mention the temper, quick intelligence and unfortunately what Harry called the 'arm thing,' but she also found similarities between herself and Owen. She wasn't related to Owen by blood, obviously, but there were facets of his personality and his mannerisms that she saw not only in herself but in her father. Both of them were rather sharp, although Owen was the more educated of the two, not to mention older, he and Eugenie seemed to fit together well regardless of the sizable age gap. When she thought of the difference she realised that it would be as if she would have married Sirius Black, something that made her chuckle. If there had ever been a pair that would not have worked it would be her and Harry's godfather.

She thought about them often, her friends. She wondered what they were doing, how they were dealing with her absence, but most of all she thought about Jack. It broke her heart, thinking of him and that last ride on the motorcycle, how they had both known what was to happen but were unable to say anything. It had been during a particularly low time, when she had been thinking of him, when Eugenie had asked her about her life in the future.

It was a topic that she knew would come up, and one she hesitated to discuss. She had told them only the more superficial things, but now it was different. Would it affect time, would it affect the future if she told them? Luckily Owen and Eugenie did not socialise much, if at all. The combination of being a new mum along with being a surgeon left them little time for frivolity. They both seemed sad at times, but when she caught them looking at her she could see their happiness. So when Eugenie asked her, after supper one night as Owen put away the dishes, she knew she had a decision to make. More importantly, she had a story to tell about her parents that might make those wistful smiles disappear altogether.

As the evening began to chill she drew one of Eugenie's borrowed cardigans around her shoulders and began the tale. At first they were quite pleased, learning about her mostly happy childhood and her loving parents. But then, when she came to Hogwarts, Eugenie's face darkened. As she related the story of Voldemort it occurred to her that, at that very moment, Tom Riddle was alive and walking on the earth, not Lord Voldemort. Every story she had ever read about time travel had not gone well, and her own experience had left her shaken. It was one thing to appear in the future, as if she had missed out on part of a movie, but to sit next to someone and to tell them what was to happen? If she did anything to make Tom Riddle not turn into Voldemort, would Harry have his parents? Or would she make it even worse?

"Hermione?" Owen leaned forward. "Are you..."

"I'm fine." She blinked several times and smiled. "I'm sorry. Woolgathering."

"Is it worse than Grindelwald?" Eugenie held Mikey closer. "It can't possibly be worse than Grindlewald. Thank Merlin for Albus Dumbledore."

That stopped Hermione in her tracks. Dumbledore was alive. The possibilities raced but then, thinking again how things could go horribly wrong, she slowly continued her story. Owen and Eugenie were aghast at all of the things that had happened, and Eugenie even mentioned the Potters, which once again made Hermione pause. Harry's grandparents were alive and Eugenie knew them. Shaking her head she once again continued, up to the point that she dreaded the most. When she told them Owen stayed stock still, as he didn't understand, but Eugenie erupted.

"You what? But that's...that's just..." She cradled Mikey towards her as her outburst woke him, and as he cried she looked over to her. "Why? Why would you do that?"

"Because he didn't have any magic!" Hermione pushed herself back in the chair and pointed to Mikey. "He doesn't have any magic. There's no way to protect him or...or Mum. I did the best that I could. I would give anything not to have done it, but I did."

"I don't understand." Owen turned towards his wife. "What did she do?"

"She erased their memories. They didn't know that they had a daughter. Mikey forgot all about us, like we didn't exist."

"But I reversed it!" Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "I fixed it. They hated me for it. They understand, but they hated me for it. I know, they didn't say it but I could tell. 'Deeply disappointed' is what they said but there's more to it than that. They were in Australia. They were as far away from anyone as possible, far enough away that nobody would have ever heard about me. I couldn't do it. I couldn't be the cause of their deaths."

She felt the tears fall and brushed them away. She studied the wall, how the wallpaper didn't quite line up in one corner and felt smaller than she had in ages. Alone. She was so alone, here in this house which was her house but wasn't, with people that were family but weren't her parents, with no hope of going back to her time let alone Jack's time. Her parents would never see her again, no matter what she tried.

"It's my punishment. To never see them again. To never be able to...we were doing so well! Things were getting better and then I went on that bloody holiday and met Jack." She closed her eyes and looked away from them.

A cup of tea appeared at her side, and she gratefully took it from Eugenie. "There, cuppa always makes things better. No, don't say a word. Just sip a bit, first."

Hermione did as requested, realising yet again that she recognised things, which made her feel off-kilter. It was her Dad's trick, what she always called the 'tea trick', the one he used to calm her down. The teacup was one that her parents had, only a few remained, and they were safely hidden in the top shelf of a cabinet.

"So tell me about Jack." Eugenie put a blanket over Mikey, softly sleeping in Owen's arms. "He's the one from the future, right?"

She had told them about her time-travels, how she had ended up with Jack on that island, about the moon and her wish. "He is. I wish he was here now."

"Well, wishing can only take you so far. The rest is up to you." Owen looked at her for a moment, patted Mikey on the back a few times and then looked to Eugenie, who nodded. "Hermione, if I may ask, what are your plans? We've thoroughly enjoyed having you here, but we're both afraid..."

"You did magic in the house." Eugenie gave her a sad look. "That first day. When you made the vow. I've been waiting for them to show up any day now and take me away. Or worse, take Mikey." She saw Owen nod, but as she twisted her hair with her fingers she had a thought. "You obliviated your parents, correct?"

"Yes." Hermione looked at her oddly. "But what...oh. I see."

"Whatever are you two talking about?" Owen looked at the two, slightly worried.

"She has to do it, Owen. To take away our memories. They have ways of looking in your head, remember? They'll know. If she obliviates us then..."

"You won't remember me, you won't remember any of this last week and you'll be safe. Or safer." Hermione shuddered. Would she really have to do it again?

"Think on it." Eugenie got up. "Let's take him up, Owen."

As they went upstairs Hermione turned her head to look out the window. The clouds moved and the moon shone brightly outside, almost a full moon. "Stupid bloody fucking moon."

-ooo-

The next morning, in the middle of breakfast Hermione made her decision. She'd been mulling it over in her head all night, barely able to sleep, and wasn't for sure until she heard Mikey begin to babble. It wasn't words, he was too young for that, but somehow hearing something approaching speech set her course. Owen and Eugenie were talking about taking Mikey to the park in his pram later on, as the day was turning bright but crisp, when she set down her teacup.

"I'll do it."

"You will?" Eugenie took a breath. "I was worried you would say no. We both know it's the only way. We talked about it last night..." She looked over to Owen, who nodded. "...and since we aren't going to remember a thing we want you to tell us...some things."

A subdued Hermione nodded, unable to look at them. "Ok."

"Hermione, look at me." Owen put his silverware on the table. When she met his eyes he continued. "You have no recollection of us, so we had passed by the time you were born. I would be in my mid-seventies in 1979, but Eugenie..."

"You had a heart attack." She could barely meet Eugenie's eyes. "Dad was in his first year of dental school. He and mum had just started dating. You passed upstairs, in bed. The housekeeper found you."

"Oh. At least it was peaceful." Eugenie sat back, relieved.

Hermione blinked a few times. "You're not bothered..."

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Owen gave her a thin smile. "We won't remember anything soon. As for me?"

"Cancer. Dad's first year of university. You were buried with full military honours. Dad has your things in a box in his study."

"Poor Mikey." Eugenie gave her son in his highchair a sad look. "All alone in the world."

"He has Mum. And me, he...he had me." Hermione fell into silence again. The clock ticked indifferently on the wall, the quiet only broken by the steady ticking and Mikey's babbling.

But then a large, loud POP came from the garden. The noise scared Mikey, who began to wail. Owen stood up immediately, but Eugenie and Hermione stayed seated, locking eyes. It was as they had feared, the Ministry was there. Panic began to flood Eugenie's face and Hermione felt anger well up in her. They could not take Mikey away. They would not take Mikey away. It would be her fault, her spells, and she could not, would not let that happen.

Wand out, anger bristling, Hermione went to the door and stuck her wand behind her back. She was going to obliviate her grandparents, what was a Ministry lackey? Nothing. She didn't exist in this time. They couldn't touch her. With a set jaw she opened the door and…

"Hermione?"

"Jack? Jack!" She ran to him and threw herself into his arms.

"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, it worked. I found you." He ran his hand over her hair, pulling her closer, and closed his eyes. "It worked."

"Hermione?" Owen stood at the door. "Is..."

She turned away from Jack. "It is! It's him!"

"Then get inside!" Owen moved away from the door.

Hermione took Jack's hand and pulled him inside. Once they were safely in the kitchen Owen closed the door, pulled down the shade and put his back against the door. Eugenie held Mikey close to her, her back turned slightly as if to shield him, but when she saw the look on Hermione's face she relaxed.

Jack looked around incredulously. "Hermione, where are we?"

"My house. Well, it will be my house, eventually. Jack, I'd like you to meet my grandparents, Owen and Eugenie Granger. And the baby, believe it or not, is my father."

"Shit." Jack rubbed his forehead but suddenly realised what he'd said. "Sorry, lovely to meet you, really, but we can't stay here. We need to leave."

"Why?" She looked at him oddly. "Why can't we..."

He pulled the tablet from his jacket and flipped it on, scrolling until he found what he was looking for, oblivious to the looks from her grandparents. "I found one reference to Granger in the forties, the only one. The Aurors investigate an unlicensed use of magic. That means someone who's had their wand snapped has done magic, and that means..."

"Azkaban." Eugenie paled and swayed unsteadily on her feet. "No. No no no no no no no I'm not going to Azkaban...I can't..."

Owen hurried to his wife's side as Hermione looked at Jack. "When?"

"What day is it? The date!"

Hermione glanced at the calendar. "The eighteenth of September."

He pulled up the specific record. "Bloody...it's...today. Today. Three in the afternoon. It was filed as an anomaly, as the residents had no wands and there was no way that magic could be peformed upon the premises. No wands. But if they find us here..."

Eugenie came forward, thrusting Mikey into Jack's hands, causing him to drop the tablet. The dicta-tablet clattered against the floor, hit the leg of a chair and settled under the table. "You have to do it now. Do it now!"

Jack held the squirming baby, glad of his experience with little ones. He moved the baby over to his side and gave Hermione a quizzical expression. "What does she mean, do it now?"

"Obliviation." Hermione took a deep, steadying breath. "I can't have them remember us or they'll take him away. They'll take the baby away."

"I don't understand..." Jack shook his head. "Why would..."

"I'll explain later." Hermione turned to Eugenie. "I'm sorry. I had so much to ask you, so much to tell you..."

After a moment's hesitation Eugenie reached forward and pulled Hermione into a hug, the first time she had initiated any contact. "I know. I wish we had more time. But if you love your father, you'll do this. For me. For us."

With a small shake of her head Hermione stepped away from Eugenie and let her wand play loosely in her hand. As Eugenie pulled Owen into the sitting room, eventually putting Mikey between them on the sofa, Hermione concentrated on what she had to do. She saw Jack enter with his tablet out of the corner of her eye but she shook her head. She had to do this perfectly. Thinking hard to the exact moment from which to remove the memories she focused herself, pointed her wand at Eugenie, and with a trembling voice said "Obliviate."

Eugenie's eyes became unfocused and she slumped against the sofa, the reaction of her body mirroring that of her son many years in the future.

"Put him the cot, please." Owen motioned towards Mikey. "If that's what's going to happen I don't want anything to hurt him. I don't want him...please?"

As Hermione seemed rooted to the spot Jack gently picked up the baby, tried to quiet him unsuccessfully, and placed him in the cot. With her father's cries echoing through her ears Hermione looked at her grandfather.

"We're very proud of you, Hermione." Owen's voice was deep, but quavered slightly. "We talked and she told me that only someone very, very good at magic could possibly do what you've accomplished. We hoped that he would come for you." He nodded towards Jack. "She wasn't sure, but I was."

"Oh hell." Hermione's wand arm dropped. "How could you be so sure?"

He laughed softly. "You're no shrinking violet, dear. You're very much like her." He glanced over to his wife for a moment. "She was so happy to know that you were a witch. Scared, but happy. And we both knew that if you ever found someone that was a match for you, well, he'd have to be smart enough to figure out how to do it. There are many forms of magic, Hermione. Remember that. And more than anything, be happy. I've lost a lot in my life, but I've also been blessed. Now, go on, dear. I'm ready."

Once again Hermione lifted up her wand, closed her eyes and focused. After a moment she blinked, stared at him and said "Obliviate."

Owen's body mirrored his wife, making it look as if the two had just settled down for a nap. Hermione stared at them for a while, Mikey's cries simply a background noise. And then she felt Jack's hand on her shoulder. She whirled around and buried her head in his chest.

"Hey, it's ok. It's ok, Hermione." Jack smoothed her hair once again, his voice calm and soothing. "You did what had to be done. Come on, now, we need to go."

She sniffed and lifted up her head. "But what about...the baby?"

"I know a few tricks. Enough nieces and nephews, you know." He broke apart from her slowly, went over to the cot and started talking softly to the baby. Eventually Mikey calmed down enough and he took a dummy that laid in the cot and gave it to the boy. After a few hard sucks the boy's eyes began to close. He stood there for a bit longer, his hand on the infant's chest. He felt Hermione come up to his side, and then she began to sing a lullaby in slow, sometimes broken words through her tears.

When they were confident the baby was asleep Jack pulled her close. "Sweet Merlin I thought I'd never see you again."

"I thought you were gone forever. I thought I'd be stuck here forever." Hermione felt her muscles begin to ache as they relaxed; she hadn't known she was that tense. "How?"

"I'll explain later, we need to go." He took a look at the clock on the wall. "How long will they be out?"

"I...I don't know. I couldn't stay after...last time."

"All right. All right. Come on." He looked at her. "You can't take anything back with you, just what you came with. Do you still have..."

"I'll be right back." Hermione shot upstairs towards the guest bedroom, leaving him alone. As she rifled through the dirty clothes she began peeling off the borrowed things Eugenie had lent her. Once fully dressed she turned and focused hard on the room. The room that would be hers in years to come. After a deep breath she went downstairs to find Jack over the cot. "I'm ready."

"Good. He'll be fine."

"I know he will." She gave him a smile and then took his hand. "So what now?"

"You're not going to believe this, but we have to go to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? Jack..."

"Trust me, I didn't like it either, but I happen to know they've got everything we need. Unfortunately it's in the Forbidden Forest."

"How on earth do you know that?"

He cocked an eyebrow towards her. "I read."

A/N: Nope, it's not a 'go back in time and kill Voldemort' story. Way too many of those. And I know, another chapter already? I did say more soon, didn't I? I actually had the time to write today, believe it or not, and it was one of those times where you just keep writing. One more chapter to finish this up.

So, off to Hogwarts, eh? That should be interesting. And what will happen when they go back? When will they appear? Who will go to what time? Stay tuned.

Thanks again for reading. Review if you wish.