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Chapter Text

May,2,1998

Every house wanted Hermione Granger. Everyone except Hufflepuff.

The sorting hat had told her as much. She was brilliant enough to be in Ravenclaw. Ambitious and cunning enough to be in Slytherin. Courageous enough to follow through all her brilliance and ambition with bravery to be in Gryffindor.

But not a Hufflepuff.

How could she when she set the robes of her teacher and petrified her friend, Neville Longbottom, in her first year. Not when she drugged and impersonated her year-mates in her second year. Especially not when she kidnapped a woman for a month.

No, Hermione Granger was no Hufflepuff. If anything she was more Slytherin than Harry Potter ever would be.

“Ah, you're a hard one to place. A girl with Soul of a Slytherin, heart of a lion and the mind of Ravenclaw. But what is knowledge and ambition without action—Gryffindor” the hat had screamed.

Hermione was content—tired, full of grief and triumph as entered Dumbledore’s office right as the trio went back inside of Hogwarts.

The exhaustion could be seen in everyone. Screams could be heard as kids and adults alike screamed looking at dead loved ones.
The relief of a battle won framed some faces while loss in others.

She looked around the room and saw portraits but no Fawkes. Hermione went up to the portrait of Dumbledore and said, “The battle is won sir”, with a sad, defeated sort of smile.

The old man’s painting came to life, the twinkle in his eyes almost exactly the same as if it had been in life. But before he could say anything she asked, “Do you regret any of it, feel remorse for how you used us”, she said, steel in her voice.

Dumbledore's smile faded. “Yes, Miss Granger, I do, I am sorry for how events played out in the grand scheme of things”. Genuine sadness lines the old man’s eyes. “But if you are asking me if I regret my actions, if I would do it all again, I would, Hermione, but that does not mean I should have”. He said her name with a familiarity she didn’t notice, not yet. She didn’t even notice he had said her name at all in her anger.

To some extent she understood. A future Hermione Granger would understand. Some decades in the past she would understand and forgive but not now.

Not when the pain was too real.

Another portrait glared at Dumbledore's. “Those are children you fool. Not toys at your disposal to regret after you ruined their lives and then admit you would do it all over again”.

A Headmaster that had children’s best intention at heart? An anomaly at Hogwarts, apparently.

Hermione travelled up the spiral stairs, wishing she used Harry’s cloak in her earlier years. She did not see the sad expression on the former headmaster’s face, or the lemon drop that appeared right on the desk of the old headmaster.

She was too stuck in her own thoughts about the battle that had occurred mere hours ago as she unwrapped the candy, a reflex but not a real thought. not quite touching the yellow lemon drop yet only the peculiar wrapper shrouded in magic that she just now noticed.

“Miss Granger, I do quite understand now why you punched Professor Umbridge now, I must say I was quite tempted as well. Oh, and Hermione do tell me when you are from””, he said with a slight laugh just as touched the lemon drop.

Her mind swirled as if in a canon, colors and light swirled for what seemed like minutes right until she was dropped on one Harry James Potter, Who dropped on a Draco Malfoy.

Hermione fell to the floor as the impact hit her. And the two boys groaned.

Chapter Text

“You can get off me now, Potter”, Malfoy groaned. Harry rolled off him. Hermione sat holding her side and face but fear overtook her and the two boys once they realized a wand was being pointed at them.

With the owner of the wand being none other than a middle aged looking Albus Wolfirc Percival Brian Dumbledore.

Their Headmaster wore bright red and blue robes, a stern expression on his face but not one of anger. Perhaps even amusement.

“Headmaster Dumbledore", Malfoy gulped a tremble in his voice.

“I’m afraid you're mistaken Mr…?” The man's wand lowered, suspicion heavy in his features but his eyes were not unkind.

“Malfoy”, Malfoy supplied wincing.

“I am merely the transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. May I ask how you three came to be here?”

They were in the past or Dumbledore was in the future but either way they needed to clarify. Hermione thought quickly and jumped up to start talking.

Dumbledore had said something about telling himself where they are from.

“Professor we are from the year 1998 and there was a terrible war with a dark wizard that I cannot tell you of—but a battle just ended in Hogwarts, I went to visit your portrait and tell you of it but I touched a lemon drop and ended up here”, Hermione rushed out in one breath which he suspected amused him greatly.

“And your companions”, he raised an eyebrow reddish-brown. She always thought his hair would look more red.

“I thought I dropped something when I felt something fall out of my pocket, much to my confusion, when I picked it up, I thought it was a harmless lemon drop—oh, how wrong I was, I opened to eat it and ended up under Potter”, he sneered but it came off more incredulously than anything else.

“Professor Mcgonall wanted to talk to and she gave me a lemon drop and like the two of them I ended up here by touching it”, Harry piped up.

“Right, we never introduced ourselves. That’s Harry Potter”, she pointed to the boy looking for his glasses. “Draco Malfoy”, who had a scowl and fear etched every inch of him.

“And I am Hermione Granger, sir”.

“I can say my own name Granger”, Malfoy glared.

“Believe me Malfoy, I’m all too aware how much you love your name, it gave me so much pleasure to take that from you”.

“Interesting”, the older man said scratching his beard, “Can I see the object in question, Miss Granger”.

Both Harry, Malfoy and Hermione immediately handed out the Lemon drops, wrapper and all.

Albus Dumbledore was not often surprised but when two young wizards and a witch appeared out of nowhere he believed them to be intruders until of course, he saw their state.

All three were tired, war torn and in need of immediate rest and bath which if anyone asks him he would say it calms the soul.

The lemon drops were definitely Albus, he couldn’t imagine not liking those lovely candy, and the magical aura felt like his. When he looked into their eyes he tried to enter unnoticeably into their minds but the girl—Hermione's head was a library and all the books locked. Draco’s head was a filling locked and ordered filing cabinet only Harry’s was weaker but Albus couldn’t invade his head in such a weak state.

Harry had found his glasses, but he saw Hermione and Draco share a glance as if finding out now the other was an occulems—and he had a guilty feeling because they knew he had tried to sneak into their heads.

Hermione Granger started pacing as he observed the lemon drops, still very much tempted to have one. “Sir, what is the date?” the girl with matted curly hair, blood and mud stained clothes said.

“August 18, 1944, Miss—Hermione?”

“Amazing. We have just travelled more than fifty years in the past which is now the present in a matter of seconds or minutes. And Dumbledore's portrait—your portrait—said something about a professor which means you knew us from before which is now but always for you. It means the three of us have been in the past—and oh crap!”

Hermione in Albus’s opinion was very calm for someone who's just been through a battle and sent to the past. But she looked almost panicked, as if realizing a great error both boys in the corner were hanging on her every word. “The fundamental law of time travel is never to let another person know that we are time traveling but since we know of one else here and I have reason to believe it was you who sent me here—I believe it’s the same for those two—it should be okay right?”

The girl said gasping for breath then continued in a calmer tone, before he had a chance to speak. “Back to my point. I was worried we might have changed the timeline but we can’t have changed them like that since we have always been here and done this. Perhaps you already knew of this and we’ve had this exact same conversation in my time. But of course this theory of time not being linear as you told me once in my third year could be wrong and it could all be catastrophe or I’ve already affected the timeline in my line so it might not be so bad”.

Both boys paled considerably as she finished her ramblings and it impressed him very much that this girl had known this.

“Very good Hermione—may I call you that”. The girl looked shocked then flustered nodding vigorously. It was not unusual, he was a well known accomplished wizard.

He turned to the two boys. “And what might my connection be to all of you?”

“You were—were my mentor”, Harry said.

“And our headmaster”, Draco added. Dumbledore thought he looked rather haggled for a Malfoy and it secretly delighted him.

He was also a little disappointed the blond could not look him in the eye, the younger man was riddled with guilt but something in him told Albus to not blame the boy.

“Professor if I may, where might we stay?” Harry piped up.

“You may stay in the living room while I study the objects, lest I find you are all lying to me”, he said mostly because the children look tired, exhausted and barely intact.

If their story was right he should send a healer among other things.

The three looked around as if realizing they were now in his house. Surprise filtered to their eyes. Draco stomped through the first door he saw then immediately turned back to the opposite end of the room to the only other door murmuring something suspiciously close to “bloody kitchen”.

“If you don’t mind I think I should hold on to your wands until further notice”.

Both Hermione and Harry nodded wordlessly giving up their wands without argument if not a little hesitation. Draco opened his mouth but they glared at him until he just handed it over.

They followed the young man to his living room.

Albus cast a few spells checking the safety of the object and a tempering spell of his own creation which proved all three objects had time travelled.

Suddenly, the lemon drops merged together to form a small yellow phoenix, a symbol he invented as a teenager, no one knew of it, to send messages to Gellert.

But he never told Grindalwald.

If they were here from 1998…no Albus shook his head, he would never ask no matter how big the temptation.

The phoenix turned into an image of himself. But much older. His brown-auburn hair was gone(to his displeasure) and his eyes aged. But it was mistakenly himself.

“Hello”, Dumbledore says to Albus politely and he nodded in return.

“You must be wondering who those children are and why they are here. It is true indeed that they are from 1998 but I cannot say why just that there is a new dark lord one that those children in front have had a hand in defeating. I think we both remember how draining it is to fight in a war”.

“You must trust them, in time they will become as close to you as family. The girl, Hermione, teach her. Turn her into your pupil, at times she may seem misled just as we were but have faith”, Dumbledore said gently to himself and Albus could not find anything that would lead him to believe that it is fake.

But of course logically he knew he only saw this in his head. It was an idea he had in his earlier years—to relay messages through the mind without it being noticeable—but never quite perfected it and Albus Dumbledore loved when he created perfect spells.

“Why them?” he asked himself.

“Because they have always been there, done this already, so I send them to you as they were sent to me by…me”, Dumbledore said delightedly.

“I remembered my curiosity when I saw them”, but his face quickly turned serious, “These children will be your legacy, they will be dear to you as if they were your own. Take them to Hogwarts for their seventh year, remember they are children who have been through war”, he said gravely.

“Give them pureblood titles and relations close to yourself to protect them. I have protected their minds from being invaded in case you or anyone else tries to invade it for answers to the future.

Hermione can aid you on how to send them here again. Oh my, I almost forgot, they will need birthing records and respectable families. Students will be curious about students in their year and one student in particular, he will cause quite a ruckus, much to our amusement and perhaps slight distress”, his eyes twinkle before inclining his head slightly, “Good luck, time and fate, remember always time and fate”.

The irony of his riddles were not lost on him. He found himself quite annoying.

Albus found himself back out his mind staring at the lemon drops and making plans to call in a great many favors. He had a bad feeling who the curious student Dumbledore was talking about was.

As he went to talk to students he found himself greatly amused to find them arguing.

Chapter Text

“Why am I dragged into this? Isn’t Potter Dumbledore's errand boy?” Malfoy said, sitting down. He looked exhausted, tired, there was blood on his suite and bags under his eyes.

Harry and Hermione probably looked worse. Both of them sank down barely having the energy to go into the old pattern of their arguments. But after the battle their slights had more fondness to them than bite.

After everything they did to get through the war, even on opposite sides Hermione was glad that she would have the opportunity to spar with Malfoy. To be alive.

“Should have known it would never end?” Harry mumbled.

And Hermione gasped, shot up, nearly falling from her chair. “Voldemort”, she said, her eyes wide. Malfoy winced, Harry looked at her curiously.

“He’s attending Hogwarts this year. If my math is correct which it is—its his seventh year—”

Malfoy made a choking sound, his face comically paler than before. She felt whatever color there was drain from there too.

And she saw Harry's eyes full of determination. “Harry we can’t do anything or change the timeline. He’s already made at least one horcrux", she said more quietly and perhaps even sarcastically or admiringly, “and as Dumbledore said, was the most brilliant student to ever graduate, I doubt he’s insane like he is the future. Or obvious about it”, Hermione said.

Suddenly Malfoy tackled Harry and both boys rolled on the ground, yelling while Hermione watched, her mind wandering to Ron as Malfoy said, “This is all your fault Potter, now I’m in the past with no money, identity, status or parents”. Then he gasped, letting go of Harry and pushing the scarred boy off him as if reality finally sank into him on the floor of Dumbledore's home.

But none of them had seen Albus Dumbledore, subtly pulling Malfoy off Harry with the elder wand, his eyes far too amused however seriously he tried to conduct outwardly.

“That is quite enough panicking—” Albus Dumbldore said from his doorway before being cut off by her.

“Sir, we are or was—or is it going to be?— whatever tense it is, we attended the sixth year at Hogwarts before spending the seventh year dealing with the war”. Hermione’s hand fidgeted because she knew she was asking a lot. “And I know we don’t have any papers but if there is a possibility could we attend Hogwarts?”

It was absurd really. Only moments before, they had just won a battle, travelled through time, realized the bane of their existence still existed and Hermione Granger was worried about not finishing school because of course she was.

Dumbledore's eyes held laughter but Malfoy held his chest as if someone shot him.

“Actually Ms. Granger I was about to enroll you all to Hogwarts myself. With the necessary papers made with my rather hefty connections in the ministry”.

Harry looked ready to object and Malfoy was frozen, shock or fear she couldn’t tell.

“Its a good thing you offered Ms. Granger I thought I would have to give all of you bribes of your own quarter for Hogwart to attend this September”, he winked but his voice held a note of finally their headmaster once held and it subdued Harry.

“Give me a moment, but until I can trust you do you mind staying in my guest house?” it wasn’t a real question but they all nodded anyway. When Dumbledore left Malfoy opened his mouth, “How are you two so calm?”

He glared at them.

“Years of being Harry Potter’s best friend have given me experience”, she smirked and Harry nodded then frowned. “We’re still getting our own rooms right?”

Suddenly she was feeling very dizzy her head hummed. She was now wondering how much blood loss and malnutrition each of them had suffered. It was a wonder how they were even conscious.

That was the last thought before everything went to black.

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up, with a man talking next to her. She’s never been more annoyed. 

Her entire body ached, her head felt heavy, a bright light shined at her and this man was talking so bloody loud.

“Oh lovely you're awake”, the skinny man said. Her eyes adjusted as she realized there was a healer standing over her with a wand, next to him Dumbledore

“What happened?” she croaked, forcing the words out of her dry throat. A glass of water levitated to her by Dumbledore.

The healer told her she fainted because of malnutrition, blood loss, internal bleeding and a few other injuries he healed with magic. In the two hours she was out Harry and Malfoy were also diagnosed similarly.

The three were given potions and ordered to rest for at least three days as the potions took effect and to recover.

After the healer left, Harry finally spoke worry in his eyes. “Are you okay?” 

She nodded absently. And started planning based on what she knew about the past and her future.

It was easier now, to think without the feeling of being drained.

This was 1944 more than fifty years in the past they had travelled. She had her bag with her but other than a few changes of clothes and potions they were unprepared. They had no money, supplies, connection or even a place to stay without their future headmaster.

She trusted Dumbledore but this past year they had seen more of the figure behind the legend and just knew they would be dragged into his plans again if it suited him. And a part of her was wounded. How could he use his students like pawns? But her bigger, more pragmatic side understood.

It wasn’t realistic for them to expect Dumbledore to choose them over the entire wizarding world.

“I suggest the three of you rest while I pull off a few strings”, Dumbledore said gently. There must be wards surrounding the guest house, she thought dimly. He apparated out in true dramatic fashion.

And now that she was aware of her surroundings Hermione noticed they were in what she assumed to be the guest house. It was exactly how one would imagine Dumbledore guest house to look like, if not a little underwhelming with the lack of magical objects.

The small house— if it could be called that since there was only a bedroom and bathroom—was a giant burst of colors and oddly shaped, comfortable furniture's with blankets piled on top. A big bed which Malfoy was sitting on top.

Harry seemed to want to argue but he looked too exhausted, like he was barely standing upright.
Dumbledore's guest house overlooked his garden which was completely filled to the brim with potion ingredients and sunlight allowing it to filter through the room.

She was laying on his green chaise in front of the large paneled window right in front of the garden, it was a hideous green and the color bothered her so much she wondered if there was magic used to annoy anyone who looks at it.

Like Rita Skeeter’s outfits.

“So what’s the plan Granger?” Malfoy said, practically melting into the bed but she remembered the relief in his eyes when she woke.

Harry glared at him. “Hermione just woke up and you—”

“We lay low in Hogwarts, gather intel, try to get back to our own time, study because none of you have any money or exist yet. We need to let Dumbledore handle our records seeing as no one here has any other options. Then we need to figure out how to live”. At their panicked faces she expanded further.

Enjoying the green lining Malfoy’s pale skin, Hermione specified further. “We don’t even have money for a meal”.

Draco Malfoy hopped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. She heard retching sounds until he came out.

Harry looked concerned. “I think Dumbledore will help us with those problems, Hermione”.

“I think so too but—” 

It was 1944. 

Shit. 

“He’s busy with Grindelwald”, she sat up straighter. “And he didn't get defeated until 1945. There is also Tom Riddle in Hogwarts. I don't know if he’ll be able to do much, Harry”, she said, skeptical.

Vacantly she knew he would stick his nose into both Riddle’s and Grindelwald's issues because he was still Harry Potter even in a different time. But he was neither a Horcrux or more talented than the future most powerful dark lord—he would have no luck, even as the-boy-who-lived-died-and-lived-again.

From the accounts she researched and from what Dumbledore told Harry Tom Riddle wasn’t insane, not yet at least. He was a talented, powerful, prejudiced wizard. 

“So we have to deal with not one but two dark lords”, Harry groaned.

“This isn’t our problem Harry”. She knew he was like this. He’d try to be a hero even when it wasn’t his turn.

When he opened his mouth she cut him off, “ we need to rest first”, she said, sinking back into the oversized ugly chaise.

They both looked up when they heard snoring. Malfoy had apparently sauntered back into the room and fallen asleep face flat into the bed.

“I can’t believe this”, Harry muttered not saying anything when he saw how pale and thin she looked. He didn’t seem much better to her either.

Harry reached to squeeze her hand before walking over to the coffee colored leather couch on the other end of the bright room. He gave her a last glance, it told her their conversation was not finished.

But he grabbed the fluffy blue blanket on the couch and turned away from the sunny windows to sleep.

Hermione stayed up trying to have some semblance of plan until exhaustion took over her. 

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She was back in Hogwarts, in a room no one has been in centuries, and Hermione felt at home.

The danger was perhaps a distant memory.

There was a boy in front of her and…he took her breath away. He had high aristocratic cheekbones, dark eyes and hair just as dark but skin so pale she thought he could pass for the dead.

And he was looking at her as if she was…everything. Like he only saw light when he looked at her.

Hermione's hand was being dragged in his somewhere, but her heart was beating so fast it felt too big of a task to wonder about anything but what was happening.

The scene changes and she’s falling into another memory or dream perhaps. Hermione’s not quite sure anymore, it feels too real.

It’s sunny, there is light streaming through Dumbledore's large paneled windows in the guest house.

She’s on the floor in a v-neck sundress that reaches her ankle, surrounded by ink, parchment, runes, books and five people she’s come to love with every beat of her heart.

Hermione looks—beautiful, healthy and happy.

She saw the handsome boy across from her laughing, really laughing, the sound so surprising and astounding she felt nothing but adoration for him, still seeing him like that was almost…unsettling.

The boy took that moment to reach over to her and spear ink on her cheek. Harry Potter, following the handsome boy's example, had simply dipped his hand into ink and quickly splatter over Draco’s laughing affronted face.

The two boys brawled sprawling ink over each other, their eyes alight with mischief and bodies entangled intimately without any inhibition over anyone.

Hermione paid them no mind as she lunged her wild(longer now, framing her flushed face and shoulders prettily) flying as she attacked the boy, smiling wide and touching his white silk shirt and face with inked-fingers.

He held her closer, dragging her into his lap, her dress lifted to reveal her legs as she straddled him.

A throat cleared in the doorway as the four looked up and blushed as they saw both Aberforth and Albus in the doorway glaring dagger at the beautiful boy and Draco.

Not in a cruel way with malice but the way a protective father would glare at their children's boyfriends.

Both gazes held fondness. If not a slight tightness when they looked at the beautiful boy she pushed up from who only looked at her with a small blush and smirk on his face as she moved away from him sputtering explanations to the brothers.