Hi Guys,

I hope you enjoy this story- its been floating in my head for a while. I apologize for the roughness- I don't have anyone to read this over except my dog.. which didn't go as well as planned.

All characters and familiar settings belong to J. K Rowling and the universe she created.

Reviews are more than welcome :)

Enjoy!

It had been 42 hours since she had first woken up. Her last memory was of chaos and upheaval. Harry had fallen, and with his fall, a surge of energy seemed to revive the dark forces. She was not only witness to the brutal slaying of her comrades, but was also a soldier who was forced to kill as well. She not only killed for efficiency, she killed for pain, for justice, and more importantly, for revenge.

The last thing she could remember was exchanging curses with Dolahov among the fallen bodies littered amongst the Hogwarts grounds. Her body was battered, and she was thoroughly exhausted, but she kept moving. Curse after curse flowed through her wand, and she refused to stop until she was dead. Dolahov taunted her, explained in graphic detail all of the things he planned to do with her body when he finally forced her into submission, and this made her push back harder. She remembered time freezing, she remembered being hit with a spell, feeling at peace, and then nothing.

She woke up to rough hands grabbing her broken and battered body. From that point it was small patches. She remembered a hysterical female voice, one that seemed oddly familiar, yet she couldn't place. She felt her clothes being removed, and it was this that finally made her body struggle. She was quickly subdued and shushed by gentle cooing, and her mind went to sleep once more. She heard gasps and sobs, and then heard the voice of someone she knew to be long gone. She heard the gentle voice of Albus Dumbledore, speaking in somber tones, and with this she knew she was dead.

Hermione woke up slowly, her eyes not immediately obeying her command to open. The room was extremely bright, with the sun high in the sky and the curtains open. When her eyes finally adjusted, Hermione was once more was assured that she had passed on to the afterlife. Hogwarts infirmary was in perfect condition; pristine white beds, walls still intact, and the wild life of outside could be heard. Hermione layed back down amongst the pillows and sighed with relief. Although the pain of what had happened, both physical and mental, were still very much present, she couldn't help but let the relief wash over her. She was free. The war probably still raged on down on Earth, but here, wherever that may be, there was peace, and for that she was grateful. She pondered as to why her afterlife seemed to shape itself in an exact replica of the Hogwarts infirmary, as this was not a place she seemed to connect with peace and tranquility, but then decided it was not up to her to decide what the afterlife was to look like.

After several minutes, she decided to take inventory of her body. After being in war for so long, she was surprised this had not been her first instinct when she had woken up. When living a life as a soldier one of the first things you are taught is to be always self-aware of your body and your surroundings. Assess your injuries, observe your surroundings, and come up with a plan; this had been drilled into her over and over until it had become second nature to do so. Hermione sluggishly sat up against the pillows and looked down at her body. She was dressed in a white patient's robe, similar to those muggle patients wore in hospitals and the blood and dirt had been scrubbed off her body. She slowly reached a hand up to her head, which was increasingly starting to hurt, and was surprised to feel her soft curls and not the matted knots she had been expecting. Looking down, Hermione frowned at the sight. For some reason she had been hoping to see the body she had pre-war, and yet she was met with the one she had become familiar with. Hermione was a petite girl of 5'2 and had been blessed by her mother's side with ample curves and lean, toned limbs. War, however, did not care for pretty girls, and had turned her body into what she believed to be an ugly site. Her body was too thin now, composed of hard muscle and apparent bones. Although this bothered her, Hermione knew that this was the body of a soldier, and that it could be rectified by eating regularly. What bothered her were the scars. While she was proud of some, knowing that they meant she had survived, it was also hard to look at a body that was littered with them. Thin ones, thick and ropey ones, patterns, and the one she despised the most, the word mudblood carved deep and crookedly into her forearm, all stood out so strongly against her pale skin. It had been a long time since Hermione had looked healthy; full shiny hair, golden tan skin, curves, and bright eyes. She could not help but be disappointed that this was not the version of herself she would be in the afterlife, rather she would be what she had been on earth, a strong soldier with a battered body.

Hermione was startled out of her inventory when the door to the infirmary opened up. She could not immediately see who it was, but she heard the quick shuffle of footsteps and frantically searched for her wand. She quickly grabbed it off the end table and turned to be met with a sight of a familiar face.

"Oh Dear, I am sorry I didn't mean to startle you. How are you feeling? I'm surprised you're even awake right now. Heaven knows your body needs the rest. I expected you to be in a dead sleep for at least another week while your body healed." The matron said quickly. Hermione stared at the woman incredulously. Why would Madame Pomfrey be in the after-life and why would she be younger? Hermione continued to stare at the woman. She was still plump and she overall looked the same, just younger with less wrinkles. Her warm aura and kind voice put Hermione at ease, as she was reminded of the numerous times the trio were in the caring company of this woman.

"Can you speak deary? You've been unconscious for nearly a week now, so it'll take some time for your body to adjust. I know you must be exhausted but Albus has given me direct orders to get him when you are awake and able to talk. It's not often we have young women appear out of nowhere on Hogwarts ground, especially in your condition." The woman looked sympathetically at Hermione, and Hermione knew she had tended to all of her wounds, past and present.

From there it was a whirlwind of conversations and the discovery of numerous heartbreaking truths. Looking back at the past 42 hours, she was still in shock and felt numb to her core. She had traveled back almost 20 years, and did not know how. There was no known way to go back, although it seemed that there was nothing to go back to. Not only did she witness the deaths of numerous people she loved, but now there was no way to go back and see who had survived. Although this was not her fault, she could not help but feel as if she abandoned her comrades on the battlefield, but was also honest enough with herself to realize that her fellow soldiers were fighting a losing battle.

During her first conversation with Dumbledore she gave him permission to use occlumency on her, after he first proved his identity to her. Old habits die hard, and just because she was not on the battle field now, did not mean she could trust everyone because of a kind and familiar face. For all she knew she could be in a Death Eater camp, and the use of polyjuice potion and other spells were being used to trick her into spilling her secrets. When she was confident she was with the actual Albus Dumbledore, and what he said to be true, she insisted he use occlumency to look inside her mind. While he put up a fight at first, she forced him to look. She told him, in no lighter words, that the wizarding world was being destroyed. Everyone who could lead the lights army was dead, and the lights' champion, their one hope, and had been brutally slaughtered. The wizarding world was quickly facing its demise, and there was really no harm in knowing the future now, because to be honest, there was nothing worse that could be done. The pair had spent several minutes in solemn silence, Dumbledore's eyes were clouded with tears, and he looked at the young woman before him with awe and sadness. Plans were quickly made to induct Hermione into the Order and have her housed with several other Order members.

This was how Hermione had found herself sitting in a small room on the edge of Essex in the middle of the night. Albus had placed her in the care of Marlene McKinnon, a girl who seemed to be around Hermione's age. She was fiery, and loud, and Hermione knew they would get along swimmingly. Marlene had flooed into Dumbledore's office upon his request, and sat down patiently as he explained Hermione's situation. Both Hermione and Dumbledore agreed that the knowledge of where she originally came from would be kept secret, but otherwise her story could be told the same. She had fought in numerous battles, been tortured by death eaters, lost numerous friends and her family to Voldemort, and was now homeless and orphaned. She would join the Order and would continue to fight and train, and offer any information she could. While her constant supply of information would only be known by a select few in the Order, she would not hide any other aspect of her life, and would continue to be a soldier in her new life. Marlene listed intently to Dumbledore while he explained all about the new Order member. When he was finished, Marlene quickly got up and crossed to the room to the new girl and enveloped her into a warm hug. Marlene knew what it was like to be orphaned from a war, what it was like to face loss, and when she looked at Hermione she saw a fighter, but she also saw a girl who had lost everything. Marlene held Hermione while she pulled herself together, and the two knew just from this encounter they would be more than simply coworkers.

Marlene had escorted her to the safe house on the edge of Essex and showed Hermione to what would be her room. She gave her a brief tour of the house, informing her that they shared the house with two other Order members, the Prewett twins. Marlene explained how the twins were out on a mission and if she saw two large ginger men in the house to not be alarmed. Hermione smiled to herself, knowing little about the Prewett twins, but knowing that if they were anything like the Weasley twins, they would bring her great comfort. Marlene helped Hermione settle into her new room, and explained how tomorrow they would go shopping for new clothes and supplies, then move onto the Order meeting where she would be introduced and inducted. Hermione did not even have the chance to object to shopping, because Marlene saw her new friend getting ready to interject. With a steely look, Marlene quickly informed her that Dumbledore was footing the bill and as the Commander in Chief of the Order of the Phoenix, what he said goes, so shopping would be occurring the next day. Uncomfortable and grateful at the same time, Hermione thanked Marlene once more and bid her goodnight as she was ready to collapse. Hermione laid down on her bed and closed her eyes. The past 42 hours had been absolutely insane and chaotic, but she couldn't help but feel hopeful for what was to come. For the first time, in what felt like forever, Hermione was able to fall asleep knowing that for one night at least, she was safe.