The sound of crashing waves and the cawing of seagulls wasn't what Hermione expected as her feet found solid ground. The moment the hands gripping her arms released her, she spun on her heel, her hands forming fists, ready to fight for her life.
The man standing in front of her raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, Hermione, it's okay. It's okay, let me explain."
Hermione's eyes darted around. They were on a sandy beach, the horizon stretching out into nothing but waves. No sign of Harry. No Ron. No Snatchers. This man had taken her somewhere isolated. Alone.
Her instincts screamed,Run!
She bolted.
The sand shifted beneath her feet as she pushed herself forward, her lungs burning, her legs protesting every step. The salt air stung her eyes, but she didn't dare look back. She could hear him behind her—his footsteps heavy, closing the gap. She was running on fumes, undernourished and utterly exhausted.
Her body gave out before she even realised it. A wave of dizziness hit her, black spots clouding her vision as she stumbled to a halt, clutching her side.
"Please!" she gasped, barely able to breathe.
When she turned, he was a few metres away, hands still raised. He wasn't even winded.
"Hermione, just listen to me. You're safe. I promise."
Safe?She doubted that very much. She kept her eyes trained on him as he slowly reached into his pocket, her heart hammering in her chest.
"I'm getting my wand, please trust me," he said softly, carefully pulling out two wands from his pocket. Hermione recognised hers immediately.
Then, with the other wand, he pointed at his own face.
"Watch," he murmured.
Hermione's breath caught as the man's features began to shift before her eyes. His shaggy, straggly brown hair shortened, lightening to an unmistakable shade of orange. His beard, streaked with grey, receded into a familiar freckled jawline, with a faint shadow of ginger stubble. His brown eyes softened to cerulean blue. Even his nose shifted slightly.
She gasped. The man before her wasn't just familiar. He looked like Ron. Older, broader in the shoulders, with faint lines around his eyes and a haunted look she recognised all too well. The sight of him hit her like a punch to the gut.
He motioned to her wand. "I'll give it back as soon as I know you won't apparate away. You need to stay here."
"Who are you?" Hermione demanded, her voice shaking as she clutched the stitch in her side.
The man gave her a lopsided grin, so achingly familiar it sent a jolt through her. "I don't think I've changed that much."
Her stomach . This couldn't be real.
He glanced at her with a frown. "I didn't hurt you, did I? I didn't want Greyback to suspect anything."
Hermione flinched at the name. She took a step back. "Prove it," she said tightly. "Prove you're Ron."
He hesitated for only a moment before his expression softened. "Constant vigilance," he said, almost teasing. "Good girl."
Her heart twisted at the phrase, but she didn't let her guard down.
"I'm Ronald Bilius Weasley," he continued, his tone growing serious. "Your best friend since the troll incident when you were twelve. Only now I'm a bit older—about nine years, give or take." He paused, his voice thickening with emotion. "In your timeline, we're hunting Horcruxes. I… I left you and Harry a while back, but I came back. I destroyed the locket. We went to the Lovegoods' because Harry wanted to learn about the Deathly Hallows, but… well, you know what happened. The Death Eaters showed up. And now we're here, because Harry said You-Know-Who's name and triggered the Taboo."
Hermione stared at him, her mind whirring. He sounded like Ron,but time travel? This far into the past? It was turners didn't work like that, that she knew of anyway.
He must have sensed her doubt, because he smiled. "Not enough? All right, something you've never told anyone but me—something youwilltell me in the future."
Her stomach could he possibly mean?
"When you smelt Amortentia in sixth year," he said, his voice softer now, "you smelt freshly mown grass because it reminded you of the Burrow in summer. New parchment, obviously. And…" He hesitated for the briefest of moments, his blue eyes locking on hers. "My hair."
Her pulse raced. "That's…" she stammered, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.
"You told me. In the future," he added quickly, his grin faintly apologetic. "Do you believe me now?"
Hermione's mouth opened, but no words came out. She could only nod, her thoughts spinning wildly. If this really was Ron—and she was beginning to believe it was—what on earth had gone wrong to make him travel back in time?
Her embarrassment gave way to indignation as another thought struck her. "If you're really Ron," she said, narrowing her eyes, "does this mean you learned nothing from all my warnings about the dangers of time travel?"
The older Ron gave her a sheepish shrug, the corners of his mouth twitching. "It's me. What did you expect?"
"Ronald, I'm serious! What have you done? What did you change?"
"Hermione, I had to," he said calmly, though she could hear the emotion wavering in his voice.
"Why? Where are Harry and Ron now? Are they safe?"
He grimaced. "They're at Malfoy Manor."
"Are. They. Safe?" she demanded through gritted teeth.
"I don't know," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "But it doesn't matter."
"What? What do you mean it doesn't matter?"
"You're safe!" Ron's voice finally rose, matching her intensity. "That's all that matters!"
Hermione froze, her anger faltering as she saw the raw pain in his eyes. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the words hanging heavily between them.
Finally, she softened. "Ron, please. What's going on?"
He raked his fingers through his hair—a gesture so familiar it made her chest ache. The glint of a gold band on his ring finger caught her he married in this future?She barely had time to process the thought before he began.
"In my timeline, when we first went through this, all of us were taken to Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix Lestrange was there, and when she saw the Sword of Gryffindor, she thought we'd broken into her vault at Gringotts…"
"But why—" Hermione began, only for him to cut her off.
"That doesn't matter, just let me explain."
She pressed her lips together and gave a short nod.
"Bellatrix wanted answers, and she chose you, Hermione. She… she tortured you. She nearly killed you." His voice broke, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. "Fleur said if I'd gotten to you a few minutes later, you wouldn't have made it."
Hermione swallowed hard, her stomach twisting, but she let him continue.
"I brought you here, after we got you out. You got better, not fully healed, but you were alive. After the war, when you finally saw a healer, and Merlin, it took everything to get you to go, they said the Cruciatus Curse had damaged your organs. You didn't think much of it, but they told you to be careful…"
Ron stopped, his voice thick with emotion. Hermione watched him, her chest tightening as tears began to spill from his eyes.
"Eighteen months ago, you got pregnant," he whispered. "You were so happy, Hermione." He met her gaze, his blue eyes glistening. "Wewere so happy."
Hermione's breath caught. "We?"
He nodded, a faint, bittersweet smile on his lips. "Yeah, we. Nine months ago, you gave birth to the most perfect baby girl. But…" His voice cracked, and he looked away. "The damage from the torture—it was too much. You didn't make it. You never even got to hold her…"
Hermione's heart felt like it was breaking in two as she watched him struggle to compose himself.
"Ron," she said softly, forcing herself to stay calm, "you can't change the past for one person."
He spun back toward her, his face blazing with determination. "The hell I can't!" he shouted. "You gave everything for this war! You're one of the reasons we won! You didn't deserve this, Hermione. I can't let it happen." His voice dropped, raw and desperate. "We both watched Harry grow up without his mum. I won't let that happen to my daughter."
Hermione's own anger flared, a defence against the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "But what if changing this moment makes things worse? What if it puts you in danger? Or Harry? Or someone else we care about?"
"I don't care!" he shouted back. "If it saves you, it's worth it!"
The two of them stood there, breathing heavily, the air crackling with emotion. Hermione stared into his eyes, and for the first time, truly looked. There was no awkwardness, no defence. His walls were down, and all she could see was love—love so intense it took her breath her Ron ever looked at her like that?Maybe she'd never let herself see it before.
A loudpopshattered the moment. Hermione spun around, searching for the source of the sound.
"They're back," Ron said, his voice steadier now. "That's a good sign."
"Who's back? I can't see anything."
"Oh, the wards. You're at Shell Cottage, on the outskirts of Tinworth. It's Bill and Fleur's house. Bill made me the Secret Keeper just in case."
As Ron spoke, Hermione watched the air shimmer and ripple. In the distance, a white cottage appeared, along with four figures on the sand nearby.
She squinted. "Is that Dobby? And Luna?"
Ron nodded, relief flooding his voice. "Yeah. And Dean and Mr Ollivander. This happened in my timeline, too."
Dobby vanished with another crack. Hermione turned back to Ron, who was grinning lopsidedly.
"See? I haven't changed time that much. I also told Harry to grab few things at Malfoy's, I'm hoping it will be obvious what they mean."
She sighed. "You still shouldn't have done it."
He stepped closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb brushed her cheek, lingering for just a moment before he dropped his hand. "I had to, Hermione." He handed her wand back to her.
She took it, but before she could respond, anotherpopand a scream cut through the air.
She spun towards the cottage, her heart racing. Two small figures were on the sand now, and one taller figure—Harry—was wrestling with someone else. She heard another scream and realised it was Ron's voice.
"Ron," she whispered, panic rising as she took a step forward.
A hand gripped her shoulder, steady but firm. "He's fine," Future Ron said gently. "He's just worried about ."
Hermione glanced back at him. He was clutching his head, his face contorted with pain.
"It worked," he muttered after a few seconds, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. "It worked! Love, I don't care how cross you are. It worked. You're safe."
She watched as his form flickered like a mirage.
"Looks like I'm done here," he said with a grin, pulling her into a quick hug. After a moment, she heard his voice quietly in her ear. "In my Amortentia," he whispered, "I smell chocolate frogs, Mum's cooking… and the perfume I got you in fifth year."
Hermione swallowed hard as she pulled back, tears stinging her eyes.
Another scream echoed from the beach.
Ron gestured towards the cottage. "Go. Before he gives himself an aneurysm."
She couldn't help but quip, "Big word."
Ron chuckled weakly. "I've learned a few things." His expression grew serious as he faded further. "Hermione, if you can, when it's safe—at Hogwarts, you'll know when—cast a shield charm over Percy and Fred. Be safe."
Hermione nodded, determination hardening her features.
He gave her one last smile before disappearing entirely.
A loud cry from the beach snapped her out of her trance. She took off running towards the red-haired figure collapsed on the sand.
"Ron!" she yelled.