Hippocampus by JJOAS

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A Harry Potter story, all copyrights belong to J.K. Rowling. Time travel if you please. Starring Hermione Granger.

I'm very fond of Tink Wolfe's story "The Thief Of Time" so some of how Hermione gets back in time is based on that.

Prologue: A change of pace

"Hippocampus: the elongated ridges on the floor of each lateral ventricle of the brain, thought to be the center of emotion, memory, and the autonomic nervous system."

In every life there are bits and pieces that we wish we could change, thus time is the center of our world, whether we wish to recognize it or not. It shapes our emotions, memories, and even our health, but I digress. People are not perfect so even those that say they would never want to change anything don't necessarily mean they like all the things that occurred in the past. Mrs. Weasley nee Granger is much like that, a logical person who thinks things through before taking any sort of leap. So now the question would be how she got to past in the first place. A good question if any.

It had all started out innocently enough…

Everywhere in the world happy boys and girls were skipping off to start school. The Hogwarts Express was chugging along while a bevy of students skittered, chatted, and scattered about the train. They were all lost in their little bubbles of conversation while their parents were all in various states of communication with the world around them. Much farther away from the platform 9 and ¾, one particular parent with bushy hair, bright brown eyes, and a charming smile was lost in a hoard of paper work from the Ministry of Magic. She had gone and married Ronald Weasley, having two children, Rose and Hugo, who were both off to Hogwarts again with Harry Potter, her brother-in-law. The trio remained strong even as the times changed and their families grew.

However, there was always an ever-present loss in Harry Potter's eyes, which mirrored Hermione's own. She looked up from her paper work, her quill point smudging ink on her upper lip. The words on the paper looked like squiggles now after all the late nights of trying to finish the ever-flowing pieces of work. Even her strong drive couldn't compete with the never-ending amount.

Harry had tumbled out of the fireplace in her office. His slight groan and shaky intake of breath had piqued her attention. As he dusted himself off Hermione made her way over to him abandoning her work and her already drying quill.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I never heard you come out of the floo. I was just finishing some more paper work…" her words died on her lips when she saw that Harry was shaking with tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

He looked haggard and worn. She had heard from Ginny that he had been working late into the night on a project he had gotten from the Unspeakables. As head of the department of the Aurors he spoke with the Unspeakables when he was needed. His green eyes had that same look of loss again and Hermione slowly wrapped her arms around him.

Sliding a chair back out, she helped Harry sit down onto a nearby chaise lounge. She turned on the lamp that sat beside the chaise illuminating the surrounding bookcases, which were stuffed with books. Pulling the chair closer to her, she sat in front of Harry and held his hands firmly.

"Hermione…I found it…" Harry stared at Hermione with such a forlorn look that she was suddenly washed with panic and fear. These were the times when she had to remind herself that they weren't teenagers running for their lives living in a tent. A frown marred her pretty features before she gently rubbed Harry's hands.

"Harry, we're not on the run anymore. We already found what we needed to find," her tone was gentle and reminiscent of the tone her mother would take when she was a little girl scared of her dark closet.

Frowning at her assumption, Harry shook his head taking a deep breath. His hair fell in front of his eyes obscuring his vision, but not erasing the vision of what he found, "What I found…it could change everything! Or at least some things…It's about the deathly hollows. I know it's dangerous and-"

Hermione tightened her grip on his hands as her cheeks flushed. "No, Harry. We're okay as we are. Even though so many people have died, my parents included," Hermione took a deep breath to settle the tears threatening to burst, "we have lives now. We shouldn't change anything."

Harry shook his head, his face set into a determined look, "This could save everyone, but I guess you're right." He gently gripped her hands back in reassurance before standing up, patting her shoulder, and managing to put on a thin smile, "I'll see you at dinner tonight, right? Gin invited you."

Hermione blinked repeatedly before nodding, "Harry, are you alright? You're acting a bit like a nutter or a moody pregnant woman."

With a deep sigh and slight chuckle, Harry patted Hermione's shoulder, "Not right now, but I will be."

Hermione knew something was up, but decided not to press Harry for any information. For now she would let it slide, but the next time it was brought up, she would make him go through something along the lines of a Spanish inquisition.

What she didn't notice was how Harry had plucked off a hair from her shoulder. She also didn't notice how guilty Harry looked when he turned away hurrying back to the floo instead of giving her a hug goodbye.

This would be one of her last thoughts before darkness engulfed her world.

Harry tumbled out of the floo onto a stone floor groaning whilst trying to dust himself off. He looked around his potions lab before shaking his head. There was no going back now. The tables had simmering cauldrons that emitted shimmering fumes of red, greens, and blues. Dumbledore's note about the Deathly Hollows on the back page of the Tales of the Beedle and Bard looked worn. Harry had unintentionally left reading the whole book so he hadn't read it until now, 20 years later.

Dumbledore had found a back-up plan just incase Harry was not victorious in his task of defeating Voldemort. He was always a man of many plans, most plans weren't revealed to anyone due to the greater good. The pages were old, colored in aged beige, and crinkled in every inch. Its instructions told Harry of a potion combined with an essence from one of the Deathly Hollows along with a sacrifice in order to go back into time. During the time that he was to die he was to choose someone to send back by putting his or her hair into the potion before he drank it.

Harry's mouth was set into a grim line before he stirred everything together. As the ingredients melded together, small explosions of light emanated from the cauldron. Taking a deep breath, Harry glanced at photographs, both muggle and magic, of his family. Ginny and their children laughing about in a flowered field, Hermione and Ron frolicking in the snow looking goofy and great, all permeated through his fear. Harry's heart thudded against his chest, but his conscience told him that this was the right thing to do. Everyone would get a better chance at life if Hermione were to go back. They were both selfless; always looking out for the well being of others, it was a great gift as well as a great flaw.

Tonks, Remus, Hagrid, his parents, Sirius, Fred, Mr. Weasley, Colin Creevy, and so many more people would have a second chance. If he could do something to prevent their unnecessary deaths, why hesitate?

"I'm sorry…" Harry dropped Hermione's hair into the potion gulping it down before it had time to emit its flash of light. Harry's eyes rolled to the back of his head as light began to emit from every pore on his body. This light engulfed his potions lab before engulfing everything else within its wake.

The book gently floated down to the scorch mark that was all that was left of what was Harry Potter. Its last sentences glowed a dark vivid evergreen:

The one to travel into the past must go it alone. His or her future will cease to be and all that you know will change. Time changes everything, but some things will continue to be with or without interference, my boy. If I my death is to be true and I cannot help you, I will find a way to change things.

Time is of the essence!

- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Hermione bolted up in from her chair feeling as though her heart was about to explode. She had heard disembodied voices in her dream saying that this was for the best. Harry exploding in a flash of light apologizing to her scared her to the point of tears, but she rationalized that this was all bollocks. Dreams were only just sub-conscious thoughts after all; at least that's what she believed.

Well that is all I have for now, dear readers.

Ta ta for now!

- JJOAS