Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR and Warner Bros. This is just for entertainment without profit.

Seven encounters in the past

ONE

Harry Potter managed to get away from the unexpected grip that dragged him to the Secret Chamber. He was terrified to think that Tom Riddle had returned in some way, to take revenge for his newly destroyed diary.

It turned out that it was a woman. A witch, no doubt, despite her dress: a curious mixture of muggle militia and certain magical details. She left him in the middle of the Chamber, demonstrating the strength of those hard and feminine arms that obviously were in constant physical demand. In that movement, Harry managed to see a rose–shaped tattoo, small and discolored, as if it had not been done correctly, on the inside of the witch's right wrist.

"Who are you?"

She smiled at him, illuminating her tanned and beautiful face. Her teeth were straight, very white.

"Good to see you alive, Harry."

As always, the magical world showed that it's rarity was infinite. Alive? When he died? Definitely not that school year, although it was close. He looked awkwardly at the space where Ginny Weasley almost died too. He held a chill and returned his attention to the unknown witch.

Harry noticed that her clothes had blood stains, new and old. A golden scarf, very worn, was tied in her left forearm. He couldn't help but appreciate the black top that covered her chest, tight, or the lustrous abdomen, center of a narrow waist.

For the first time, Harry felt real physical attraction to a girl... a woman. She must be twenty years old, at least. He thanked his Hogwarts robe for hiding the evidence of that attraction.

It was not easy to be almost thirteen years old.

In addition to the little black top (Harry forced his eyes off there), the witch was wearing military pants and matching boots. On the hip, tied, were a shirt too big for her, of cheap wool. There was also a belt with a knife and a beautiful small bag, more appropriate to go to a dance than to a war. Except for the golden scarf, her arms and shoulders were bare. She didn't wear makeup or some kind of jewelry. Her lower lip was slightly thicker than the upper. And her eyes... so strangely known and, at the same time, unique.

"Do I know you?"

"Don't you recognize me?" she seemed amused, then worried, "Is that good or bad?" she added quietly, thoughtfully. She let out a great sigh and sat right there on the floor.

"Should I recognize you?"

"Honestly, Harry, you'd better start developing more attention around you. I need you to be bright, okay?"

The bossy tone and that expression were too much for him.

"Hermione?"

He looked for the disastrous hair of her best friend in that stranger, but there were only a lot of braids that made her look more dangerous and beautiful. He looked again at the witch's eyes: a sunset in autumn.

Hermione.

"How can it be? What happened to you?"

The blood stains in her clothes take another importance for Harry. His best friend was hurt. A particular spot seemed alarming: on her right thigh.

She seemed to notice.

"I applied several coagulation spells, don't worry. I come from the future, of course. I used a Time-Turner, that is, a magical device that allows you to travel to the past... or the future. But let's not go into details, we have the time counted. I came to warn you".

"Of what?"

Harry couldn't finish believing this Hermione's story, the adult and too sensual version of his thirteen–year–old best friend. Were they really the same? Impossible.

Hermione gestured for him to sit down too. Harry obeyed, a little intimidated and at the same time fascinated by her.

"Very much, I'm afraid. I thought about traveling to the past, just once, to give you all the necessary information. But then I reasoned that it was too much for you, that some details you might forget, or that the future would change so much that the original information would no longer serve you. Then I made a plan: travel to see you once a year, seven times. That way I'll explain to you enough to fix the future, and at the same time I will control the situation until I know we win".

Harry had no doubt that this Hermione was Hermione. Only she could reason, deduce and plan so many things that, to him, sounded complex, extraordinary and worrying.

"Fix the future? What happened?"

Hermione (he couldn't stop thinking her name with another intonation, a much more suggestive and hard one) looked away, losing her smile. Her left hand stroked the rose–shaped tattoo of her right wrist, in a gesture that seemed unconscious.

"It was a good idea to do it like this." she said after several minutes in silence, "You are too young to hear the whole story. Every year I will reveal a little about what happened... what you will prevent from happening".

He felt a little offended. He was thirteen years old ―finally a teenager. He was no longer a child!

"If I'm so young, why did you choose this moment to come?"

"Because you just defeated a version of Tom Riddle, and by that I mean a Horcrux. That saves me a bit of explanations. Also, suppose that after two years at Hogwarts, it would be easier for you to accept time travel; in case you didn't believe or trust me".

Harry was surprised by that last thing. "You are Hermione, how could I distrust you?"

And he said it thinking about his Hermione, not this unattainable Hermione of perfect abdomen.

His comment earned him a new smile from her.

"Well, that will save even more time. That is the most important thing."

"What happened?"

"First you must swear to me that you will not discuss this with anyone, Harry. Not even Dumbledore. Especially, Dumbledore. And me. I mean, my self of your present. I'm sure I'll try to know everything I can, I'm insufferably curious! And that will cause many problems. We must alter the future, but with the utmost care. Even so, the effect of each change will be impossible to measure."

"Sounds complicated."

"You can do this. I know. I've seen you do the most extraordinary things, Harry. You are a great wizard."

When Hermione told him that, Harry felt a strange shame and wanted to lower his head. He wasn't used to flattery. But in Hermione's voice he was pressed by a challenge, a mission to fulfill...

"I will do my best."

Hermione's face hardened. "I hope so. You must understand something: I don't do this for me. It is impossible to change my present. But I don't want your future, Ron's or Hermione's of this timeline to be the same. All three deserve better."

Harry was glad to know that Ron was still with them. Friends forever and all that.

"How is Ron?"

Hermione clenched her fists. "Don't ask questions of the future. That is the rule. I'll give you the information it deems convenient. If you have specific doubts about that, you can talk. Otherwise, be silence."

That didn't give him much peace of mind, but when he saw Hermione's outfit, he realized that perhaps it was for the best.

For now.

"All right. Give me the information."

"Do you promise not to tell this to anyone?"

"I promise."

"We will take an unbreakable oath. Thus your magic will force you to keep your word. It's not that I don't trust you. I must make sure that nothing, not even veritaserum or Legilimency, will endanger our secret."

"What is Legil―?"

"I'll explain later."

Harry restrained from rolling his eyes. This was going to be frustrating. He was a curious wizard!

They took out the wands to swear.

"That is not your wand, what happened to yours?" asked Harry. Hermione gave him an annoyed look. Right: no questions about the future.

They proceeded to take the oath. Harry felt his magic seal every word they said. Hermione's power, in contact with his, surprised and captivated him.

She was beautiful.

"Ready to know everything about your third year at Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded. He wasn't going to let Hermione down.

She settled better on the floor, putting her elbows on her knees. She took a breath before beginning to speak, while her gaze was lost somewhere in the Chamber.

"Sirius Black is the main change you must generate…"