AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This was my entry for the 2013 Hermione-Smut Fest (hermione-smut . livejournal . com). The fest is long over and reveals are out, so I can post this for you here. This fanfic is multi-chaptered, but complete. I will post a chapter up every couple of weeks until it is finished.

Here was the prompt I worked from:

Prompt: #5 - As an Unspeakable, Hermione has decided to work with the magic of Time and Dreams. Unexpectedly, one of her studies/experiments backfires on her, and she ends up getting flung back and forth through time whenever she falls asleep, only to go back to her 'normal' time upon waking. Each time she travels, she ends up running into the same Death Eater. Why do they have a connection & how can she break it so she'll stop travelling around? Her lack of restful dream sleep is beginning to kill her!

Harry Potter Pairing(s): Hermione x Tom Riddle (not Snakeface!Voldemort, but SexyEvil!Tom), or Rabastan Lestrange, or Regulus Black, or Nott Sr. (Theo's dad), or Draco Malfoy

Suggested Kink(s): Mix-and-match any of these elements as you see fit, author - Dark!fic, Non-con, Dub-con, Consensual Sex, Bondage, Spanking, Rough sex, Sex in places other than a bed, Anal, Oral, Bukkake, Silk, Cropping, Nipple/clit spanking, Toys

Additional Comments: Does Hermione's interaction in the past change things slightly in her timeline & how so? How does she break the cycle? You decide, author, but these issues must be addressed in the story. Please no scat, watersports, felching, fisting, snowballing, or santorum.

This fic was imagined after watching that scene in the "Prisoner of Azkaban" movie, when the unknown wizard in the Leaky Cauldron is stirring his teacup with a finger and reading Stephen Hawkings' "A Brief History of Time". Consequently, it deviated a bit from the prompt, but I hope you'll like it anyway!

MUCHO thanks to my beta, Desiree (D-Irish/MalfoyMaiden), for her super-ultra kind offering to take on this monster fic at the 11th hour, and her excellent suggestions for making the story read better – THANK YOU SO MUCH, D!

A BIG-UBER thanks to the Mod, scifichick774, for hosting such a great party, being so understanding and kind, and for letting me play in her comm. I've enjoyed this opportunity, and look forward to next time!

Please review!

DISCLAIMER: "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This fanfiction was written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.

TIMELINE: begins Hogwarts era (head canon mixed with A/U), ends Post-Hogwarts (EWE)

MAIN CHARACTERS (alphabetical order, last name): Hermione Granger, Rabastan Lestrange

SECONDARY CHARACTERS WITH SPEAKING ROLES (alphabetical order, last name): Fleur Delacour-Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Mr. & Mrs. Granger, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Bill Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley

SUMMARY: Time is immutable... but filled with magical possibilities. Hermione Granger discovers this truth after an accident in the Department of Mysteries leads to a series of bizarre, random, fantasy-like encounters with a strange, handsome young man donning Slytherin colours.

RATING: NC-17 (MA)

WARNINGS: Head canon fic (plot weaves around actual canon events, but completely A/U regarding the events of Hermione's relationship with Ron), Time travel fic, Explicit Het sex (consensual-virginity loss for Hermione); Explicit profanity; Use of real, current scientific theories surrounding time-travel and universal particles; Use of JKR's canon information twisted to make this plot work; Characters a bit OCC for the sake of this plot.

Author's Additional Notes: Title of this story comes from the great Tennessee Williams' The Glass Menagerie, in which he writes, "time is the longest distance between two places".

THE LONGEST DISTANCE BETWEEN TWO PLACES

By: RZZMG

~.~.~.~.~.~

1 June, 1991

The Granger Home, Lingfield, Surrey

~.~.~.~.~.~

The stranger had blue, twinkling eyes and a long, white beard. His jaunty cap was decorated with embroidered stars in silver thread, and his floor-length, magenta robes were done up the same.

Hermione liked him; this funny-looking old man named Dumbledore, who'd come to her home to tell her parents something important (something about her unique 'abilities', she was quite sure), but most especially, she was enchanted by the colour of his eyes. They reminded her of the Glaucus atlanticus – her favourite marine mollusk, and the clusters of Brooklime that lined her mother's garden, and the nice man with the sad face who sometimes sat on the bench in the park where she played (he fed the ducks and smelled like a candy store, and had eyes so pale blue, they were almost white). She'd always wanted eyes that same shade – the colour of the sky. They reminded her of playful days, of endless possibilities, and of secrets.

Her own plain, mud-coloured eyes had always bored her; they were the most average of average, and if there was one thing Hermione did not like, it was being considered 'average' at anything – even something as trivial and unalterable as her physical features.

A chair scraped in the small dining area adjacent to the kitchen, where her parents were currently talking in low tones with their elderly caller, and Hermione quickly ducked down behind the couch, where she was eavesdropping, hoping not to get caught. She wondered what they were saying. Was it something bad? She'd been so careful lately, working hard to control her spontaneous telekinesis; she hadn't rattled a single pot in the house in over a year.

Frustrated with her inability to hear anything of substance, she crept forward, attempting to be stealthy. It was terribly rude to listen in on others' conversations, she knew, but insatiable curiosity had always been one of her more dominant personality traits and it was difficult to curb it, especially knowing the discussion in the next room involved her.

"You're sure?" her father asked, holding an old, worn letter in his hand. It looked dirty and rumpled, and the paper was a thick, old-world styled parchment, like what her grandmother liked to write on when she sent out her letters. "She's really going to… She's meant to… You're quite sure?"

Dumbledore gave a somber nod. "I'm afraid there is no mistake. Your daughter has a great destiny before her, Mister and Missus Granger. The question is: will you allow it to unfold as it was meant to?"

Hermione frowned. She knew what 'destiny' was, and she didn't much believe in it, preferring to subscribe to the idea that everyone made their own decisions. The idea of some imaginary cosmic deity was weaving an inescapable web of every person's life seemed laughable to her.

Besides if she had a destiny, her parents couldn't stop it, even if they did protest, so why bother asking their permission at all? It seemed completely unnecessary.

Just then, Dumbledore glanced over at her, giving her a wink and a smile, as if he'd known all along just precisely where she was and what she was up to.

Caught snooping, Hermione sighed, stood up, and joined her parents and their visitor in the kitchen. If they were going to discuss her future, then she might as well be a part of it.

~.~.~.~.~.~

18 June, 1996

Ministry of Magic-Department of Mysteries, London

~.~.~.~.~.~

Hermione assessed the line of Death Eaters to her right and left, noting that there were none behind their small group; thank Merlin. At least there was the chance for them to escape, so long as Harry kept talking and Lucius Malfoy kept his cronies at bay until the conversation was finished.

They'd been so easily lured into this trap, just as she'd suspected might happen given Harry's erratic behaviour this year, but her best friend had been adamant that he was coming here with or without anyone else, the stubborn boy, and she'd decided long ago never, ever to let Harry James Potter dive off cliffs without her there to be his suicide-prevention net. The boy had a death wish.

Fortunately, she'd already had plenty of practice at getting Harry and her friends out of bad scrapes... although never one as dire as this, she had to admit.

Listening with half an ear to some shrill witch's mocking of Harry, Hermione focussed instead on considering defensive spells once the fighting began, and on recalling the way out of the purposefully disorienting and twisting labyrinth of the Department of Mysteries. Half a dozen hexes pulsed on her tongue, waiting to be unleashed at the proper moment, and although the wand light made it difficult to peer into the distant darkness, Hermione was confident that she remembered the correct path back towards the lifts, having memorized her steps to this point and kept her sense of direction, even underground.

From the corner of her eye she spotted Harry raise his wand, and mimicked him, tensing. When she heard Ginny being threatened, she stepped back and crowded in like a mother protecting her cub; they'd touch her friend over her dead body!

A lone Death Eater dared to inch forward from between the shelves to her right, his silver mask gleaming against her illuminated wand tip. She could see his eyes as clear as day – a blue-white that was vibrant and clear, steady and fixed on her alone. He took another step, then another, until he was standing a metre away. His wand was aimed at just over her left shoulder, she noticed, trained on Ginny like the others in his group. Hermione shifted a bit to block his aim and took a deep breath to clear her shaky nerves...

The strong, masculine scent of liquorice and cloves wafted past her nostrils.

Kretek. She recognised the smell, as her mother had once smoked the tobacco-spice blend, too. She recalled when she was younger the man who had fed the ducks in the park had also smelled like the stuff – candy sweet, with a tiny hint of masculinity, like Port wine. Kretek were a Muggle invention, though.

What would a Death Eater be doing with Muggle cigarettes?

Almost imperceptively, the lone Death Eater's gaze dropped to her lips and even through the holes in his hideous, metal disguise, the edges of his eyes crinkled upwards as if he were smiling under the mask – as if he were amused by her.

Hermione glared at him. The evil git was mocking her.

Just as the psycho witch to Hermione's left screamed something at Harry about 'shut your mouth', the Death Eater in front of her did something slimy and sneaky – something that made an odd, embarrassing moan escape her lips: he caressed her magical aura with his own with a whisper of an unknown spell and a gentle release of his will. The touch was silken fingers sliding against her naked, heated skin, soft and arousing. An electric spark of pure pleasure shot up and down Hermione's spine in response, making her shiver and causing her heart to accelerate.

Shaking at the unfamiliar feelings that coursed through her, and upset that such a spell even existed, Hermione bared her teeth at the man, angry that he would dare such a thing. Pervert, she thought, casting her disdain at him across the space.

His answering chuckle was soft, but she heard it, even over the shattering of glass orbs very close to where she stood, as some mad Voldemort loyalist unleashed a spell. Fortunately, it was blocked from reaching its true target by someone else.

Foolish... pay attention! They were in the middle of a fight for their lives, for Merlin's sake, and her inattentiveness could have just cost them everything!

Steeling her nerve, her wand arm went rigid once more, and she squared her shoulders, facing down the Death Eater in front of her. When it starts, you're my first target, she let him know with a narrowing of her eyes, preparing a special Stupefication spell just for him. He acknowledged her challenge with a small nod... and another chuckle.

The rotten git was laughing at her.

~.~.~

The fine sand particles from all those broken hourglasses from the Time-Turner cabinet in the Time Room stung Hermione's nose as she beat feet through the bizarre dust cloud hot on Harry and Neville's heels, leaving behind one unconscious Death Eater–the one with the pretty blue eyes who had toyed with her earlier–lying by the ruined grandfather clock, and his partner, the squalling baby-headed Death Eater, to their fates.

As she ran, she hastily wiped at her face to get the burning and itching in her sinuses to stop, and noted blood staining her hand. Great, she had a nose bleed on top of everything else. Just perfect! There was no time to stop and pinch her nose to staunch the flow, though, as two more Death Eaters appeared before them in a flash. She and her two friends instinctively ducked into a side office.

There was no other exit to the room, she immediately noticed. They were trapped. Maybe she could blow a hole through the back wall into some other office…

She turned to lock the door behind them, but was knocked back and off her feet by an unexpected Impedimenta spell as the door was forced back open by two new Death Eaters. Fortunately, Hermione didn't fall back into anything too solid, as she'd been tossed against Neville. As a result, she was able to immediately roll over and magically Silence one of the wizards from shouting out their location to his companions.

Then, Harry was back in the fray, too, casting a Petrify spell that hit its mark.

She was just congratulating him on his good form, when she was struck in the chest by a non-verbal spell from the Death Eater she'd Silence'd. The spell had emitted a menacing purple flame that sank into her abdomen, going bone-deep. It short-circuited her nervous system in a blink, like turning off all the lights in her head at once.

"Oh!" was all she had time to exclaim before darkness rushed in on her from the sides, engulfing her in its embrace.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Author's Notes:

Please review!

Scenes borrowed from J.K. Rowling's novels and re-written into Hermione's POV for this chapter:
Chapter 34 - "The Department of Mysteries" - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Glaucus atlanticus - (commonly known as the sea swallow, blue angel, blue glaucus, blue dragon, blue sea slug and blue ocean slug) is a species of small-sized blue sea slug. They are uncommonly beautiful, but venomous creatures known best for eating Portuguese Man-o-War. They do not usually survive in captivity and none have been successfully bred in captivity either. Google them if you get a chance. They are a natural, amazing wonder in this world.