2 May 1998
~Hermione Granger~
It was a beautiful day.
A bright blue sky peeked through the gaping holes in Hogwarts' roof and puffy white clouds floated lazily across the scape. Hermione walked through the arch that once held the grand mahogany doors of Hogwarts. From a distance, she could see the winding branches of the Whomping Willow reaching out towards the sun and feel the heat baking the ashes under her feet. Hermione stared out across the courtyard blankly, the collapsed beams and scattered slabs of stone from the destroyed walls littered the ground.
A place that used to be her home felt so hollow now.
Hermione couldn't remember ever seeing Hogwarts so empty in all her years there. The courtyard, even during classes, had always been filled with students- House scarves billowing in the wind as they joked and raced each other, the glow of the sun warmed them as they laughed, and the colourful sparks of magic lit the air as they cast charms and jinxes.
Now it all felt cold and utterly barren like she had stepped through an unmarked graveyard.
She knew that it wouldn't last long, the silence, the almost peaceful air that surrounded the wreckage and the dead. Soon the bridge into the courtyard would be swarmed by an army of vindictive Death Eaters set on destroying what little they had left. As all of them were led into what was left of their home by Voldemort, coming for her best friend.
The brown-haired witch stood silently as the wind blew past her, mulling through the dirt at her feet. Hermione ran her fingers over the rough stone of the doorframe, her fingertips brushed the cracks and splinters of wood. It was in ruins now. Thousands of years of history and magic held within the walls of the castle, now barely standing because of a madman who couldn't just stay dead.
Dropping down to sit on the ground brought the rough reality back into her bones. There was a high possibility that she and everyone she knew would be dead soon among the ruins and already fallen - nothing less than a last stand wounded and outnumbered until the end.
Bringing her knees to her chest, Hermione noticed the torn holes in her jeans and bloodied and scraped skin of her knees underneath. It seemed like such an insignificant injury while surrounded by the remains of her home and the bodies of her friends and fellow Order members. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, trying in vain to keep out the unwelcome warmth of the summer day. She didn't think the cobblestones should be covered in the blood of innocents and she hated that the breeze carried the unmistakably heavy stench of Dark Magic and Unforgivables. Her eyes watered and she expected tears to roll down her face, but nothing came. Hermione stayed quiet, watching nothing in particular and feeling a gnawing emptiness in her chest.
She blinked and behind her eyes, there was the voice - his voice playing in her head.
I know that many of you want to fight, some of you may even think that to fight is wise, but this is foolish. Give me Harry Potter, do this and none shall be harmed, give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts, give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour.
And their hour was almost up.
There was a soft shuffle of rubble as footsteps closed in behind her and Hermione's spine stiffened, fingers itching to tighten around her wand before Neville sat on the steps next to her. He didn't look at her for a long moment before turning his head slightly, "You reckon he'll go?" Neville asked, but Hermione could tell he already knew the answer too.
Hermione didn't think he needed to elaborate either. There was little else plaguing her mind. Harry was at the forefront since they were eleven and she found out he was still hunted by Voldemort and his followers. Now, no matter how much positivity she tried to project, the dread of what was coming curled in her stomach like a molten ball of lead.
"He's Harry fucking Potter, have you ever known him not to run headfirst into danger, risking his life, despite how hopeless the situation may seem? A self-sacrificing idiot, he may be, but a predictable one." Hermione said with a little bite to her tone. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Neville watching her strangely. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
The Gryffindor dimly grinned and shook his head, "Never heard you curse before."
"I figure time is short for all of us, might as well try it out. Who knows, maybe I have the eloquence of a sailor and never knew." Hermione could see the blood caked under her fingernails and, with a grimace, tried to chip it away. The dried crimson stayed and Hermione didn't have the will to try any harder to get it out.
"You're going with him," Neville said, leaving no room for question. "'Course you are, the two of you have always been glued at the hip."
Hermione nodded absentmindedly. There was no point in denying it, especially in front of Neville, he seemed to have a way of knowing when she lied anyway. "Hey, Neville?"
His bushy eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Yeah?" he asked.
"Can you promise me you'll hold down the fort after we go? There's a chance neither of us will come back from the Forbidden Forest and-" Hermione closed her eyes tightly, suddenly not wanting to talk about what could happen. But this was no time for safety gloves, peering up at him, Hermione whispered, "We'll do whatever we can over there but, well, I wouldn't want anyone else to keep this place together. Just do what you can."
Neville was nervous under her persistent gaze, but he nodded. "I promise to try."
"You are very brave, if the collapsing bridge didn't already prove as much." Hermione tried to smile reassuringly towards him but it came out more like a grimace. "But you've got a little more reckless Gryffindor than you'd like to admit."
He chuckled. "I'll keep everyone together, best I can."
At that moment, she truly believed him. A bubble of hope began to build in her chest and that brought her a sense of comfort that even if she and Harry met their end today, their friends would have a chance. The two of them said nothing else as they climbed to unsteady feet. Together they walked back inside the empty entrance hall. The concaves that once held the stone soldiers were barren, their occupants in shattered pieces around the Hogwarts grounds.
Hermione remembered how lively the Great Hall was during her years at Hogwarts, the constant gossip mill running amuck thanks to Lavender and the Patil twins at every meal and the small explosions from Seamus Finnigan when he tried to practise his spells.
Now it was filled with unmoving bodies covered in thin white sheets.
Hermione could see Ron across the hall, his ginger head bent down, weeping into the shoulder of his still older brother. Heart wrenching sobs rocked his body as he clutched onto Fred's jacket with shaking hands. Molly's fingers brushed bloodied hair away from her lifeless child's pale face, still trying to take care of him. George sat next to the cot, looking alone for the first time in his life as his family mourned. Hermione watched his wand clatter to the ground as he buried his face in his hands and cried.
Hermione's eyes stung with unshed tears as she looked away and scanned the room for Harry's unruly head of dark curls. Her best friend was standing stiffly with folded white linen held tightly in his hands. Hermione moved to him, slowly, casting a sombre glance down at Lavender Brown as she passed by. The girl's curly hair was still tied loosely in a blue bow, her petit neck exhibiting the savage tear of Fenrir Greyback's teeth, and her face colourless.
Harry jumped when her hand slid onto his shoulder. Hermione took the sheet out of his hands gently, falling to her knees as she respectfully covered her favourite Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Remus' hand was outstretched towards his purple-haired mate, barely a hair's breadth away from her dainty fingers. It seemed Harry had already covered Tonks and she was grateful for that. Hermione carefully pulled the fabric over Remus' slackened face and, before standing to her full height, placed his hand on top of his mate's.
Harry rubbed angrily at his swollen eyes and sniffed back a sorrowful cry.
Hermione steered him away from the Great Hall with little difficulty, sidestepping between their fallen. Harry walked with unmeasured and clumsy steps, letting her keep him from falling on the stone floor. His hand squeezed hers painfully, turning her knuckles white from the pressure but she wouldn't let go. Suddenly, Harry stopped, eyes wide.
"They made me godfather, what's going to happen to Teddy if I- when I-?" Harry shook as he looked at his best friend for answers. She stared back at him, not knowing how to tell him that she didn't know. Because she was Hermione Granger, she was always supposed to know and at this moment she had nothing. "Hermione, I have to go. I have to end this."
"I'll go with you," she said, her voice too pleading and soft even to her ears.
Harry vehemently shook his head. His hands raised to grip her shoulders. "No, I can't let you do that. You're too important to me and the Order-"
Hermione interrupted him sternly. "Wherever you go, I go, remember? That's how we work. We watch out for each other, we fight together, and if we're to die now? We will do that together too." She thought about Fred and Remus, about Tonks, about little Colin with his camera. About their lives being, in the worst sense of the word, unfinished. "You are all I have, all I've got left in this world and I'm not letting you go alone."
Harry leaned forward, his forehead falling gently against hers and the twisted metal of his glasses felt cool on her flushed skin. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut and she breathed in deeply, soaking herself in the safety she felt from him, even with the world falling apart around them. Angling his head, Harry kissed her temple.
"I guess we had better come up with a bloody good plan to get out alive then," Harry thought for a moment. "Do you still have that Time-Turner from the third year?"
"Illegally," Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It's dangerous to mess with time, if we end up going back, we could get someone killed who would have survived otherwise," Hermione explained. Throughout her third year, McGonagall had been reminding her not to go back further than an hour or two because she could accidentally change important events or, worse, get stuck. And yet here she was, once again, contemplating going back and purposefully changing important events.
If only her third-year self could see her now.
"I'm not suggesting we go back hundreds of years or strangle Tom in the cradle. I'm saying to bring it with you, just in case things go wrong. Having another go at the last couple of hours wouldn't be the worst thing to happen." Harry said with a shake of his head, a glance toward the Great Hall that spoke volumes.
Hermione recognised the desperate look in his eyes. It was the same one he had when they thought Sirius would be exonerated for the crimes he didn't commit.A determined glint came off the greens of his eyes and Hermione found herself nodding. There was no arguing with him when it came to her safety and she knew it, biting her lip, Hermione repeated, "Worst-case scenario only."
They didn't say goodbye to anyone.
There didn't seem to be anything they could say that would make it okay for the people who cared about them to see them go, so many had already died in the war and they were walking to certain doom. Hermione didn't want to see the sadness grow behind Ron's eyes as he tried to choose between staying with his grieving family and going with his best friends into the Forbidden Forest, especially after the Horcrux hunt. Whether it was right or not, making this choice for Ron was an unspoken decision Hermione and Harry agreed on.
Avoiding groups of wandering survivors, Harry and Hermione took the steps two at a time towards Hermione's sanctuary - the library. The books were scattered over the ground, ripped pages floated on the breeze as the floor-to-ceiling windows were shattered on the hardwood floor. The image was the final nail in her coffin, this was the place she had gone when she needed certainty, companionship between dusty old pages, and a sense of belonging to something greater than herself. If they survived the final battle, Hermione wondered if she would ever be able to claim sanity again.
Once they had collected the Time-Turner from the hidden little nook Hermione had left it in the restricted section, Hermione fastened the chain securely around her neck and averted her eyes from the wreckage around her as they walked back towards the courtyard. She noticed Harry holding onto the golden snitch Dumbledore had left him, fingers curled tightly around the remnants of his childhood. Hermione unconsciously walked closer to him, as if her body alone could protect him from what was waiting for them.
A chill ran down Hermione's spine as they crossed the threshold of Hogwarts. The last shred of protection she felt within the remaining walls was stripped from her with every step she took away from the school that had raised her.
The Forbidden Forest was eerily quiet, no living creature dared to make a sound as the two wizards walked hand-in-hand. The crunch of leaves and thin branches underneath the soles of their shoes echoed around Hermione's head and she tried to pretend like they were walking towards something better than a group of Death Eaters. She tried to hold onto hope.
When they could no longer see the towers of Hogwarts, Harry tugged her hand to a stop. Harry's face was tense with worry and he took several deep breaths into his lungs before he could speak. "Wait here for a few minutes before you follow me."
"And be ready to Apparate, I know, we've gone over this already." Hermione reassured him. "I'm right behind you."
"I'll see you soon then, 'Mione."
Harry disappeared in the underbrush without another sound and Hermione snuck behind him a few moments later. There was a hum of energy in the air, dark and ominous, leaving goosebumps along her arms. Hermione ducked lowly, the soft ground almost touching her knees, as she watched her best friend linger at the edge of the clearing.
The fear she felt for him was almost alive, breathing and growing beneath her skin.
"I thought he would come," whispered a ghostly voice and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. The dark figure floated above the ground, pacing in front of the large crowd, his pale skin stark against the black robes of his Death Eater. Voldemort twisted his stolen wand almost anxiously between his thin fingers.
Next to him, Bellatrix's wild hair was knotted and piled high on top of her head, curls coming loose in the breeze as she shook her head wildly. Her body was angled like a puppet, her strings drawing her closer to Voldemort as she searched for Harry inbetween the trees. Her face broke in a maniacal grin as she spotted the lone figure as Harry exited out of the foliage.
Hermione gripped her wand tightly and whispered prayers to any deity who was still out there and willing to listen, the tips of her fingers going numb. She watched Hagrid struggle against the ropes and heavy chairs around his throat and arms, calling out for Harry to leave while Rowle and two other masked Death Eaters restrained him.
"Harry Potter," Tom Riddle's face split into a horrifying smile as he stepped closer to Harry with a flourish of his cloak. Hermione crept closer as Voldemort raised his wand with inapt calmness. "The Boy Who Lived. Come to die."
She saw his thin lips moving as he uttered the words, reptilian eyes alight with glee. But Harry didn't move, didn't reach for his wand. Not able to wait another second while Harry was frozen in danger, Hermione burst out of hiding behind the trunk of a large tree, "Harry!"
Harry's head snapped towards her as Hermione closed the distance between them and seized his arm in a deathly grip. She closed her eyes and thought of the only place that still felt safe, the courtyard at Hogwarts. Hermione felt her best friend hug her tightly as he prepared to Apparate away. There was shouting as the feeling of magic wrapped around them, the familiarity of being warped taking over. Hermione heard the rushing steps and screams of Bellatrix as the madwoman tried to reach them.
Before they could fully disappear there was an anguished scream and a flash of green exploded across the field, "Avada Kedavra!"
It all happened in a single moment. Voldemort's spell flew across the glade, electrocuting the air, and leaving behind the pungent scent of death. Her eyes tracked the Unforgivable as it travelled towards her, the curse striking her chest. Hermione waited for the pain and darkness to ascend over her but it never came. Instead, the Time-Turner glowed a sickly bottle green as it absorbed the magic from the Unforgivable. Hermione's eyes widened in horror as the white apparition smoke faded into a mint colour and wrapped around them.
Suddenly, she felt the harsh pull of magic drag them away from the ground, holding onto Harry as tightly as she could, Hermione screamed. Burning heat raced through her body- searing at her skin as they vanished.
Hermione's back hit the ground with a resonating thump, white-hot pain flaring throughout her body. She cried out pitifully as the painful ache settled over her bones. Her arms and legs spasmed and she bit down on her lip until the copper taste of blood filled her mouth. Her hands shook as she patted herself down to make sure she hadn't lost a limb in the Apparition.
Hermione tried to blink her eyes open but she could only see darkness.
There was nothing else and it terrified her. It was all shapeless blurs bleeding away her vision. Hermione's hand blindly reached out towards where Harry should have landed, desperately, panic finally seceding when she felt the rough fabric of his coat snag on her fingers.
"Harry?" Her voice scratched like a record and Hermione barely recognized it as her own. "Harry, please wake up. Harry…Harry…"
She waited for another curse to finish her or, hopefully, the caring hands of Madam Pomfrey but neither came. There was just the wet soil soaking her jumper and the quiet song of birds floating above her. She listened intently for footsteps or voices, not willing to let her guard down, but the heaviness in her head grew worse and soon Hermione couldn't resist the tug of unconsciousness.
13 July 1971
~Minerva McGonagall~
No matter what anyone preached about the natural beauty of the Hogwarts grounds. It was undeniable that the weather was complete rubbish in the Highlands of Scotland. Especially for the middle of July, there hadn't been a single sunny day to interrupt the grey all week. Thick, smokey clouds hid the sun, fat drops of rain threatened to fall and drown out the milling of Professors and cast a shadow over the castle grounds. And so, understandably, it was the weather that dampened the Headmistress's mood further than the mounds of paperwork cluttering her desk.
The upcoming school year would start in a few short weeks and Minerva felt woefully unprepared for the new students and returning older years that would surely be out to cause trouble the moment their feet touched Hogwarts soil. Even after half a dozen years at the helm of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minerva always felt nervous when the first of September closed in despite a long summer of preparations.
Her office, much like her mind, was working overtime. There were supply requisition forms that needed to be sent to the Ministry by the end of the week, two dozen charmed quills were writing letters to each student that would attend and the Hogwarts ledger would occasionally pen a new name of a magical child being born in the corner of her room. Minerva watched as the ink bled into the elegant swirls of her signature at the bottom of each letter, despite using magic for the letters, her hand had already begun to cramp.
A loud crack of thunder made her jump in her cushioned seat and spill her brass inkwell on the parchment, her enchanted quill turned towards her accusingly. The rain fell in heavy waves now, washing the grim off of her windows. With a scowl, Minerva waved her wand over the mess and cast a silent Scourgify. The ink disappeared from the parchment and she sighed into her hands.
There was another rumble of thunder from the sky but this time it was accompanied by the unmistakable scent of dark magic wafting in the air. The stench was so heavy that Minerva felt her stomach roll. Her instincts knocked her into high alert, covering her nose with her robe sleeves. Minerva peered outside her window, searching for the cause of the foul odour. The trail was faint but her sensitive eyes could see it from her office.
She had only smelled an Unforgivable a handful of times but it was unmistakable. She hurried down the stairs, passing the phoenix and running to the nearest staircase leading outside. Minerva was grateful that this hadn't happened with vulnerable first years or curious older years at the school. Small mercies, indeed.
Minerva held her wand at the ready as she walked faster towards the dense forest. There were wards up all around Hogwarts to prevent Apparitions and unauthorised people from entering unnoticed onto the castle grounds. In theory, the wards were meant to protect the students and grounds. Yet, the further she walked into the Forbidden Forest, the heavier the scent became.
When she found the source of the magic her heart sank down to her toes and the shield protecting her from the rain flickered, soaking through her robes. There was a deep, scorched crater in the ground, burning away the branches and leaves surrounding it. In the centre of the starburst of fire were two small figures, huddled together.
A quick wave of her wrist sent a stream of sparks in the air, signalling the little staff already at Hogwarts to her whereabouts and her need for assistance. She stepped closer to the centre, studying the children in earnest and throwing up a shield to protect them from the weather.
A boy and a girl. Their clothes were torn, covered in crusted blood and far too large for them. Practically swallowing their tiny bodies whole in fabric. The girl's face was round and hidden under a mane of brown curls, and a thin, burned line around her neck. Her petite hand held onto the sleeve of the boy's jacket loosely. He had raven-coloured hair that dropped over his closed eyes and a pair of broken glasses hanging away from his face.
Minerve didn't recognize either of them, their strange clothing and injuries making it even more difficult to try recognising them. However, she could smell the different magical energies around them. Some that she couldn't place at all.
Footsteps drew Minerva's attention away from the children and she narrowed her eyes, hand gripping her wand tightly in defence before recognising the red dress of Madam Pomfrey. Relaxing, she lowered her wand in invitation for the nurse to come closer.
"Oh, Merlin's beard! What happened to them?" Poppy stared down at the children with an expression of horror colouring her face. Her blue eyes wide as she stepped towards them, shoes skidding against the burnt grass.
"I don't know but do you smell that? Dark magic, Poppy. Whoever did this to them must still be nearby. We should call the Aurors." When the mediwitch held out her hand to stop the Headmistress from stepping away from the children, Minerva looked at her questioningly.
"We had better hurry them to the infirmary before calling the Ministry." Minerva took a step towards the girl, preparing to lift her with a levitation spell. "Careful now, we don't know how bad their injuries are and jostling them could make it worse."
Minerva nodded and lifted the girl slowly, waiting for Poppy to do the same with the little boy before starting the journey back to the castle. They moved in tandem to keep the children under the shield, they ducked under branches and climbed up the muddy path. Minerva kept her eyes on the floating children to ensure they wouldn't be injured further.
They headed straight to the hospital, quickly scurrying through the empty hallways and flying up the stairs, glad to not be stopped by any of the other staff. When they reached the infirmary, both witches gently lowered the children on the nearest beds.
Poppy swallowed back her disgust as she waved her wand to check their condition and began to work, peeling back the layers of blood and mud-caked clothes. The smell of dittany was strong and unpleasant and Minerva scrunched up her nose in distaste.
"Anapneo," Poppy murmured, standing above the children. The little girl took a deep breath and sighed as she finally relaxed into the mattress. Poppy felt the girl's temple for a temperature and continued swishing her wand between them. "Tergeo."
Minerva watched, horrified.
What could possess someone to hurt innocent children so badly and how did the two of them end up on the Hogwarts grounds?
14 July 1971
~Hermione Granger~
Hermione's eyes fluttered open, sun rays shining into her eyes. Cringing away from the light, she glanced around the familiar hospital wing with a sigh of relief. She recognized the lumpiness of the bed and she could smell the Skele-Gro floating in the air. Hermione couldn't remember anyone saving them from Voldemort or carrying them out of the Forbidden Forest after her Apparition failed, but looking around the brightly lantered hospital, the sheer relief of being somewhere safe started to fade. The last time she had been in the hospital it had been covered in wounds and the stench of potions and spells was thick enough to make her eyes water.
But as she looked around, all Hermione saw were the empty cots littering the room, none of them being put to use. There were no moans of pain, no hurried steps as potions were carried between patients and no violent stench of blood. Just the crisp, clean sheets of the beds.
Jolting bolt upright in the bed, Hermione felt dizzy as she looked around for Harry. Panic ate away at her chest when she couldn't spot him immediately. Harry had to be there with her. If he wasn't then that would mean he was…
She froze, Hermione refused to think what it would mean if he wasn't lying in a hospital bed next to her. Hermione felt too weak to get out of the bed fully but her eyes were alert and searching as she forced herself to stay sitting up. Finally, her chocolate eyes landed on a small boy twisting on the bed next to hers. Short legs kicked at the wool blankets as he turned, restlessly, in his sleep. A groan escaped him and Hermione drew closer on instinct.
When she pulled away the fabric from his face, Hermione gasped, loud enough to draw attention to herself. Harry was there but he wasn't the Harry she was expecting to see laying there. In the traditional sense, he was all there. Unruly dark hair, an angry scar on his forehead- granted it was more faded than she had ever seen it, and a slight frown pulling his mouth even as he slept. Except it wasn't the eighteen-year-old soldier that dozed away in front of her, it was the eleven-year-old boy she had met on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago.
With the sudden and unexpected realisation that her best friend had somehow reverted to a First Year again, Hermione desperately tried to find her wand or a mirror to look at herself. Anything that could provide her with a reflection. Before she could find either, she spotted the well-dressed witch in the doorway, staring at her imploringly. Sighing in relief, Hermione sat back against the metal headboard of her bed. She felt the calming presence of her favourite Transfiguration professor settle over her.
"Professor McGonagall! Thank Circe you're here, what's happening?" she asked.
"I was hoping you could tell me that, Miss..?" Worry sunk into the young girl in the hospital bed and she shook her head in confusion.
When she didn't feel the weight around her neck, Hermione reached up to grasp the Time-Turner in her chubby hands. Horrified when she found nothing but the air in its place and felt the sharp sting as her fingers touched a fresh burn line around her throat, she pulled her hand away.
"Granger. Hermione Granger." She replied quietly, eyes downcast.
"Miss Granger, I'm sure you understand my uncertainty concerning this situation. You appeared out of thin air, injured and we had to rush you and your friend here before we lost you." Minerva furrowed her brows as she continued to look at Hermione. "Now I realise you know who I am but I don't recall ever meeting you before."
"Yes, Professor. I do believe that Harry and I have made quite a mess of things. I don't know how to even begin to explain." Hermione started, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy next to her with her hysterically rising voice. Godric knew how long it had been since he could sleep in an actual bed without worrying about Death Eaters finding him.
"Miss Granger," Her former Transfiguration Professor pressed lightly. "Please try."
"We were fighting Voldemort. In May of 1998." Minerva looked at her quizzically and Hermione felt her eyes water. "We were in the Forbidden Forest and I tried to Apparate us away to safety but I think the Killing Curse must have hit my Time-Turner and-" She choked on a wayward sob before she could stop herself. "Then I woke up here. Like this."
"Voldemort is only a story to scare children," Minerva raised a knowing eyebrow when Hermione vehemently shook her head. McGonagall rubbed the bridge of her nose while she mulled over the story. "Am I right to assume that you are not actually an eleven-year-old then?"
"No, ma'am, I'm eighteen."
"We found this next to the two of you," Minerva pulled a broken snitch out of a pocket in her robes. The ball had a deep gash melted towards the hollow centre. On the surviving side, there was a text that Hermione could barely read, she made out the words 'I open at the close' in neat script. "Do you know what it means?"
Shaking her head, Hermione handed the little Quidditch memorabilia back. "No, it was a gift to Harry from a friend." Left to him in Dumbledore's will, she added mentally and filed it away for later.
Harry stirred and Hermione watched him as he carefully pushed himself up on his elbows, gaping at his fingers and miniature hands in the process. When his eyes finally found hers, he blinked several times, taking in the eleven-year-old girl he had met so long ago.
Harry gaped at his best friend, "I'm either dreaming or the afterlife is a lot weirder than I was led to believe."
"I do believe a more accurate explanation of your situation would be that you travelled back in time and found yourself as a younger version," McGonagall offered as Harry tried to assess the situation properly. "Although I suppose if this was the afterlife, it would be quite strange indeed."
"How far back have we gone?" Hermione asked quietly, not entirely sure she wanted to know but needing the information anyway. "What year is this, Professor?"
"Twenty-seven years, I believe. Give or take a couple of months." Hermione and Harry exchanged worried looks before glancing back at Professor McGonagall. Harry collapsed back onto the mattress with a resigning sigh. "It is currently July of 1971."
Hermione remembered Sirius talking about the best years of his life, the years the Marauders and Lily had attended Hogwarts, back in Grimmauld Place. They had all started Hogwarts in September of 1971, he had said. Hermione could practically see the wheels turning in Harry's head as he tried to accept what was happening to them, she could feel a low buzz of excitement from him. Harry would see his parents, Sirius and Remus again. Alive and well.
Something came to her attention then, chewing on her lip, Hermione frowned. "Professor, we have nowhere to go. Neither of us has been born yet and won't be for almost nine years." Harry looked over at her, his green eyes widening at the same realisation. "What do we do?"
"I had a brother, Robert, his children would be about your age now. I suppose you could take their place and stay here with me until you find your way home. I have a contact at the Ministry that can resolve the problem of identification and such." At their questioning looks McGonagall waved a dismissive hand. "Robert and his family perished several years ago, no one will question it."
"Thank you, that's very kind of you, Professor. Are you sure we won't be a burden on you?" Hermione smiled gratefully. Minerva McGonagall had always been a good person in Hermione's time, but it seemed she was extraordinarily kind and selfless even before., which shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone who knew her.
"You cannot call me 'Professor' any longer, you're to be my niece and nephew. It's Aunt Minerva to both of you." Their newly surrogate aunt said with a kind smile curling at her lips. "You'll have to go by my family name, of course."
"Harry and Hermione McGonagall, we finally get to be siblings legally," Harry said with a teasing smile playing on his face as he continued to try and adjust in the uncomfortable bed. Harry had always been her brother, even if they didn't share a last name until this bizarre moment.
After some deliberation, they decided several characteristic changes were necessary to make sure that James and everyone else wouldn't notice the family resemblance. Hermione squeezed Harry's hand as Minerva waited patiently for him to be ready.
Harry touched his black hair lovingly for a second before bowing gently to expose his head to Minerva's wand, the dark strands turning a honey-caramel shade that matched Hermione's. He pulled at the locks before pushing them away from his face and dropping back into the pillow with a huff. Hermione tried not to close her eyes as the wand pointed towards her. She felt a warm tingling in her eyes as she rubbed at them.
The older witch conjured a mirror in her hands and held it out to her new niece. Tentatively, Hermione plucked the glass out of her hands and turned it towards herself. She looked the same as she had in her First Year. Untamable hair that sprung every which way, olive skin and wide eyes. However, now they weren't a soft brown but a mesmerising deep green, just like Harry's.
"Would you mind?" Hermione pointed towards her front teeth, the mean words of a former professor still raw in her mind. She wasn't one for cosmetic magic but her teeth were a sensitive subject and she would prefer not to be insecure about them in her formative years again. Minerva raised a questioning eyebrow but nodded primly and Hermione felt her gums burn for a second.
"I'll leave you two to become adjusted," Minerva left the mirror in Hermione's hands as she smiled at them. Turning from the room she paused in the doorway. "I will arrange for you to have a separate common room for more privacy during your acclimation period."
Hermione was thankful for that. After everything that had happened in their lives, between the war and the year of Horcrux hunting, nightmares were something that was an expectation for them. It wouldn't be good for anyone to have them separated and screaming in terror, reaching for each other only to wake up alone and afraid.
When Minerva was gone, Hermione left her bed for the warmth and safety of her brothers. Harry still had the same scent, treacle tart and broom wax. An odd combination that somehow fit him better than anything else could. Before she could drift away into sleep, she felt him stiffen.
"Do you think that thing is gone from inside my head?" Harry whispered into her hair. He continued to speak without giving her the chance to answer. "I think that Voldemort fulfilled the prophecy. Neither can live while the other survives. I know I'm alive and so is he, but I feel different, lighter. Like the unbearable weight I've carried all my life has lifted from my shoulders."
"I hope you're right," Hermione said quietly. Her mind was very much preoccupied by the idea of living her life in the 1970's.
"Oh, bloody hell!" Harry snapped.
"What?" Hermione reached for her wand, clearly expecting a threat to appear in the doorway of the hospital. "What's wrong?"
"We have to repeat all of Hogwarts." Harry cried in clear dismay. Which only made Hermione laugh into his chest as she closed her eyes and relaxed against him.
"Don't be such a baby," she snorted. "It could always be worse."
main story cast : Hermione - Emma Watson / Sirius - Ben Barnes / Harry - Daniel Radcliffe / Remus - Andrew Garfield / James - Aaron Taylor Johnson / Lily - Sophie Skelton / Peter - Jamie Bell / Mary - Lily Collins / Marlene - Alicia Vikander / Emmeline - Emilia Clarke / Regulus - Timothee Chalamet / Lucius - Harry Lloyd