Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, and I'm merely allowed to play around with them. No copyright infringement is intended.
This chapter has been updated as of October 2015, to fix my multiple mistakes. I'm being my own beta. Please enjoy and leave a review! :)
The Right Path
-o-O-o-
Chapter 1
No. No, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening! Hermione thought as she ran through the corridors of the Department of Mysteries. We are dead. We are so, so, so dead.
She heard heavy footfalls, and instantly knew someone was following her. A Death Eater, by the sound of it; he sounded heavy and his breath was heavy, as if he hadn't exercised in a while. He couldn't have been a student. She took a sharp turn left, hoping to lose her assailant, but had no such luck. She heard him veer after her and, although he wasn't catching up due to health differences, she was still terribly afraid. She ran, ran and ran as fast as her legs would carry her, the adrenaline pumping in her system. Her muscles were aching and she almost tripped, but the thought of what the man would do to her if he ever caught her kept her going, even though her head was unclear.
Through his panting breaths, he managed to hiss a curse at her, although at this distance, she couldn't tell what it was. She felt his magic crackle in the air behind her and quickly threw herself to the wall on her right to avoid it. She felt it pass by her and crash into a nearby pillar, but she didn't dare stop any longer to take a look at the wreckage. She turned her head and her blood froze. He had almost caught up with her. Now that she could see him, she recognised him from the wanted posters: Antonin Dolohov. He was a murderer.
She didn't stay to be another one of his victims. She just twirled around and ran off, her footsteps echoing down the corridors of the Ministry. Another curse soared by her but missed her as she turned right. Her lungs were burning and she knew she would have to stop soon. Soon, she reached a thick, dark door. She didn't think twice before she flung it open and slammed it shut before her pursuer could follow her. She pulled out her wand and muttered a quick Colloportus to slow her attacker down. She turned around, her back to the door, and examined her surroundings.
The room was dimly lit, but everywhere it shone with golden glints. As she looked closer, she could see the tiny golden chains and hourglasses full of fine white sand that she knew so well ever since she had owned one in her third year. Timeturners! Hermione realized. The man slammed the door with all his weight, nearly tearing it down. She turned to the door, her look worried. I don't have much time. she thought, biting her lip. Then, an idea came to her. She turned back to the Timeturners, her face hopeful. Wait a second… Time! That's it! I only need to use one of the Timeturners to warn Harry not to come to the Ministry!
Trembling with excitement, she grabbed the nearest Timeturner and slipped the chain around her neck. The door rattled again as Dolohov slammed against it, trying to break her spell. She tried to ignore him and simply rested her body against the door to stop him from Two hours should do it. she thought. She desperately tried to keep her head clear, but thought of torture kept flitting through her brain and panic flooded her, making it difficult to concentrate. Nevertheless, she managed to grab the little knob that would send her back in time and tried to spin it.
Just as she started turning the little hourglass, Dolohov threw himself at the door and Hermione felt her charm break. She screamed as the door slammed open with the strength of the Death Eater's hit, and Hermione fell forward, her face to the ground, and her grip on the Timeturner loosening. She had let go of the little knob but had set it spinning at an alarming speed, her eyes widening as she desperately tried to keep count of how many turns it had made.
As she still fell towards the ground, she felt herself being tugged by the chain, which had started to burn horribly. The scenery around her changed so fast she almost threw up, and still the hourglass turned. Hermione started to feel dizzy, so she closed her eyes. After several minutes of spinning, she hit the ground, hard, and groaned. Her head throbbed and she fell into unconsciousness.
-o-O-o-
When Hermione open her eyes, all she could see was white. As she recovered her thoughts and sensations, she noticed she was lying down. What's more, she was lying down on something soft. There was a dull ache in her temples, where she could hear her pulse so loudly it hurt. In fact, her whole body hurt, as if she had been run over by a truck or had falling off a cliff. She was sure that if she moved but a muscle, her articulations would creak and her muscles would scream in protest.
She recognised the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, but, somehow, she had no idea how she had gotten there. Although, according the numerous injuries she seemed to sport, or that she at least felt, she knew she was in there for a good reason.
She gave a soft moan, closing her eyes and shaking her head slightly as if it would make the pain go away. It didn't, and even increased it and the throb intensified and her shoulders cramped, making her frown, her eyes still closed. She heard someone bustling about and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping for peaceful slumber. Unfortunately, the person didn't seem to agree with the idea.
"You're awake!" Hermione recognized that voice; she had heard it many times in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, for example when she had accidentally turned herself into a cat when drinking Polyjuice Potion in her second year. She opened her eyes and, sure enough, Madam Pomfrey was staring back at her, sitting down on the chair next to her bed, although she didn't have quite as many wrinkles as Hermione remembered her to have. Anti-Aging potions were working perfectly, it seemed. "You gave us quite a fright, Miss, err…" The elderly lady seemed to have forgotten her name, which was strange since she never did, especially since Harry Potter was her friend.
She frowned, puzzled, but answered nonetheless. "Granger, Madam Pomfrey." she rasped. Her voice was hoarse, as if she'd never had water in her life. She blinked a little and looked at the matron's again and saw her hair was blond. How was it she never noticed before? She was usually very good with people physical appearances.
The elder woman stiffened. "How is it that you know my name?" she asked, her voice clipped. She sounded genuinely surprised that Hermione should know who she was, even though she had been going to this school for the past five years.
Hermione was even more confused now, and her frown deepened. "I come here often, though." she said clearly, as if talking to a delirious person. Maybe her age was driving her mental, after all. "My friends do too."
Madam Pomfrey took a step back from the girl, and, when she spoke, her voice sounded suspicious. "And who, I pray, are your friends?" she asked cautiously, she too talking as if Hermione were mad.
Hermione sighed in desperation. "Mister Potter, for example." she told the nurse raising her hand and letting it fall on her lap, exasperated. Harry was always injured after all, of course she would know him. Besides, he was Harry Potter. How could the woman not know me?
She stared at Hermione for a long time, as if judging her sanity, which the young witch found exceedingly annoying. Finally, she decided. "Very well." the matron said, standing up. "I will fetch you Mister Potter, as well as Professor Dumbledore."
Hermione smiled and released a breath she had not realised she had been holding. "Thank you." she said sincerely. Once both of them would be here, they would convince Madam Pomfrey that she had just forgotten who Hermione Granger was and that it was no big deal. The incident would be pushed to side and never be talked about again.
The nurse left without another word. Hermione stretched and winced as the pounding in her head increased once more. She inhaled deeply through her nose for a couple of minutes, thinking and trying to remember what it was she had been doing. Then she remembered and, with a gasp, she sat up on her bed. The Department of Mysteries! They had gone in to save Sirius and she had tried to stop it from happening and had gone back in time to warn Harry about the ambush!
What if Harry already left? she asked herself. I shouldn't have fainted… Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did I faint anyway? That part of her memory was still fuzzy. The last thing she remembered was Dolohov pushing the door open and then… and then… She could feel that it was something important, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
She searched her mind some more before she heard the door click open. Her eyes darted to the side as it creaked and Professor Dumbledore walked in, soon followed by Madam Pomfrey, and finally…
"Harry!" Hermione cried gleefully as she caught sight of the black-haired boy, who wasn't looking at her. "Harry, I was so worried! What happened at the Ministry? What time is it? Have you even left yet? I-" The boy turned his face towards her and she cut herself off suddenly. He had hazel eyes, which were shining in bewilderment. Not the familiar sparkling and bright emerald green orbs her friend had inherited from… his… mother.
Still, he looked a lot like Harry. He wasn't very tall or very muscular, and his hair was unbelievably messy, making his wizard's hat sit atop his head haphazardly. His shirt was untucked and his cloak was ruffled as if he had pulled them on very fast in the morning and hadn't found the time to arrange his attire the whole day, or is he had just jumped off his broom after a long game of Quidditch.
"I think you can leave, James." Dumbledore said quietly, noticing Hermione's shocked expression.
The boy did as he was told, still looking rather disorientated, closing the door softly behind him. Dumbledore sat on the bed, crossing his hands onto his lap.
He turned to Madam Pomfrey, who was looking at him expectantly, and smiled at her reassuringly. "I think it might be best if you left us alone to talk for a bit Poppy." he said softly, and the elder woman nodded, spinning on her heels and following James' footsteps.
Dumbledore turned back to Hermione and scrutinised her for a bit, as if looking for a sign of something. Hermione turned her face to him and started at his analytical eyes peering at her from over his half-moon spectacles. Her mouth hung slightly open in shock and he seemed to believe that this was just another horrible misunderstanding. But how could it be? Was that Harry's father? It couldn't be, he had died almost fifteen years ago. Yet here he had stood, in flesh and bones, very much alive and looking no older than seventeen.
As Hermione tried to sort out her thoughts, trying to understand her situation, Dumbledore talked to her. "Well, Miss… Granger was it?" he asked cautiously, and Hermione nodded, her mind clouded. "I can understand how troubled you are."
Hermione shook her head. He couldn't possibly know what she was feeling right now. She didn't understand how Harry's father could magically be alive and well and how the whole world seemed to have forgotten her.
"Let me explain what happened." he continued. "You were found in a restricted department of the Ministry of Magic, alone, wounded, with this" he pulled out Hermione's Timeturner. "around your throat."
Her eyes widened as she realised what had happened. She had wanted to go back in time for two hours, but instead had sent herself back years! At least eighteen years if Harry's father was alive and a student.
"You were wearing a Gryffindor uniform, so the Aurors brought you here. Am I right to assume that, in your own time period, for there is no denying that you have travelled from the future, you were not only a student of this school, but also in that very house?" she nodded. Dumbledore was a very bright man if he had deduced so much only from clothes and a simple artefact. "Well… I think you might understand the gravity of the situation." He waited slightly for the information to sink in before he added: "Just so you know, the date is 21st of June 1976. Now… Where, or should I say when, do you come from?"
"I…" Hermione couldn't speak. "I come from…" she tried before bursting into tears. Sobs wracked through her body as she thought about her life. All that was gone. She would never see her parents again. She wasn't even born yet. She would never see her friends again either. She was alone in a world at war; a war that was not her own. She couldn't possibly stay.
Professor Dumbledore nodded as he witnessed her outburst. "It's alright." he said soothingly, his blue eyes twinkling with understanding. "You don't have to tell me. At least not right now. You need the wound to heal, so to speak. Meanwhile, I would like you to…" He stopped, as if thinking about his words, before trying again. "Well, recover, but try to…" He sighed heavily as he could find no way to make the truth any softer. "Miss Granger, this is going to be hard to hear but…" He inhaled deeply, his eyes shining with compassion. "We can't send people forward in time…" She looked up, still sobbing but looking at his in desperation. "It is, in fact, part of Merlin's 17th law, like bringing the dead back to life. So, I would suggest that, well, you make a new life… here."
Hermione couldn't breathe.
Her throat tightened and her sobs stayed muffled, as if it were impossible for them to get out. Her eyes had frozen in an expression of horror which almost made Dumbledore wince and tears still streamed down her cheeks. The pounding in her head intensified, and suddenly she thought she knew what being hanged felt like.
"I'm… stuck here?" she managed to choke out, her voice thick with tears and anticipation.
Mercifully, her eyes remained dry for the moment, and the temporal absence of sobs managed to make her hearing functional, despite the continuous headache.
Dumbledore stood up, his face grave.
"I'm afraid so, Miss Granger." was all he said.
This was it, then, no chance of all this being a joke. Not that she had thought this was a joke in the first place, it had just all seemed so surreal she hadn't really wanted to believe it. Her life was over.
"Now, if you would like to pop in to tell me about your life before this, ah, regrettable incident, feel free. The password is 'Liquorice Wand.'" He walked over to the door, stopping at the handle, as he seemed to remember something. "Also, Miss Granger, what is your first name?"
Hermione looked up from her bed. "I… Hermione, sir. Hermione Granger. Like… Like the Greek princess." It was something her mother had always said when introducing her to somebody and had always stuck with her.
Dumbledore smiled. "Very well, Hermione. You were in Gryffindor, weren't you? I trust you'll find your way to the Common Room easily. The password is 'Lochness monster'. Good luck!" He turned to towards the door and opened it but, before stepping through it, he added: "Do not think of this as the death of a life, Miss Granger, but as the birth of a new. It will help you move on, I believe. Let us just call this your Renaissance."
-o-O-o-
Make a life here? But what about my old one? I can never forget my parents, or Harry and Ron, or all these adventures we've shared… Hermione lamented in her head as she was walking towards the Gryffindor Tower. She was still terribly sad, but now worry took over her. What if she was so stuck in her old timeline she couldn't fit in this one anymore? That would make her an outcast and she would be miserable for the rest of her life.
She was going to do something about this. She couldn't change the timeline, she knew that. If she did, there was a chance that she might disappear altogether, and now that she had recovered, she intended, very much, to stay alive. She couldn't stay and risk that. Therefore, she also intended to prove the great Merlin wrong and find a way back home. She couldn't be sad forever.
She kept worrying even as she arrived to her destination. Memories started flooding her mind once more, but she swallowed them down to keep herself from falling apart. She looked up at the familiar portrait. "Lochness monster." she said, suppressing any feelings that might want to pop up just then.
The Fat Lady smiled. "Welcome to Gryffindor." she said warmly, swinging forward.
Hermione stepped in, her expression like that of a cat coming into a room for the first time. As soon as her foot touched the inside of the red and golden room, the chatter and laughing going on stopped. Everyone stared at her as if she had a Hinkypunk in her hair, making her particularly uncomfortable.
No matter how much she wished her faith in her promises to stay strong, her legs suddenly turned to jelly, impressed. She could see the crowd shuffling, and out came a tall red-headed girl. Ginny! Hermione thought, before mentally shaking her head. It couldn't be Ginny. This was the past here; Ginny wouldn't be born for another five years or so.
The girl straightened and looked at Hermione, as if analyzing her. Besides, she has curly hair. Hermione thought to convince herself this wasn't the girl from her timeline. "Hi!" the girl said, breaking into a smile as she decided she liked the new girl. "My name's Lily, Lily Evans! I'm Gryffindor's girl Prefect!" She was so bubbly and inviting, Hermione felt grateful. It would make it easier for her to find her place… If she ever could.
Lily offered Hermione her hand, which she shook. "I'm Hermione." she said, her face blank. "Hermione Granger. I..." she swallowed.
She just realised she had no cover story. How was she going to explain her sudden arrival in the end of a school year? She couldn't possibly explain all about her accident in the Department of Mysteries during a war that hadn't yet started. She would be shipping of to St. Mungo's Asylum ward faster than she could say "Boggart".
She cleared her throat and tried to smooth things over and be slightly evasive. "I'm new and... well... I guess you noticed that by now." Pathetic, Granger. she reprimanded herself mentally.
She braced herself for the flood of questions, but none came.
Lily's smile broadened. "Yes! I'm in sixth year. Professor Dumbledore came earlier and explained your situation." she said, nodding softly and trying to be reassuring.
Hermione winced. She did have a cover story, but one she was not aware of? That wasn't going to be helpful.
"We're sorry for your loss." she continued, and Hermione felt her resolve begin to crumble as her thoughts flitted back to her family. The rest of the Gryffindors nodded. "That You-Know-Who really is awful. But it's alright, we've all lost someone to his hands, directly or not." Hermione thought about it. It was partly Voldemort's fault that she had ended up here; after all, had he not convinced Harry Sirius was in danger, none of the Department of Mysteries incident would have happened.
All the Gryffindors were still looking at her, but not with curiosity, as it had been in the beginning. No, they were staring at her in sympathy.
"Here, in Gryffindor," she gestured to behind her. "We're all one big happy family. We'll always be there for you. You can tell us anything, and we'll make sure you don't feel left out." All of them had stood up, and were now standing in a semi-circle around her. Maybe she wouldn't be sad forever. Nevertheless, she still had to go home.
Hermione blinked back tears. "I... Thank you... I don't know what to say..." Brilliant Hermione. You didn't last two minutes before breaking your resolve to not cry anymore. But she really couldn't. These people didn't even know her, she had just popped into their world and intruded in their lives, yet they loved her like their own. It was very reassuring.
Someone in the crowd shouted: "GROUP HUG!" and suddenly, all the Gryffindors, from 1st to 7th years, were huddled close around the newcomer. Hermione couldn't help it; she laughed. And her laugh was the most delicious sound a certain Marauder, a beautiful blond on his lap, had ever heard.
-o-O-o-
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