It used to be a grand manor.

Oh, it was never a happy place, to be sure. But it had been home to one of the Ancient and Most Noble Houses, and as such, no expense had been spared in its construction. Despite it being in a muggle neighborhood, numerous wards and protections had been added over the years, giving it a degree of safety and privacy that most places could only dream of. The house itself had multiple floors and the layout / construction was such that one only had to look at it to know that it belonged to somebody of importance.

At least, that was how it used to be.

The neighborhood was now abandoned, with no sign of anybody living in the residences anymore. Most of the houses had broken windows and doors, and looked like they had been subjected to explosives of some sort. The street itself had a few cars that lay abandoned and forgotten, trash littering the area.

The real damage had occurred to the manor.

The wards guaranteeing privacy had been shattered, letting all see the state of the house, and the wards that granted protection could be seen in various locations around the manor, sparking red and blue as the broken arrays tried to fulfill their purpose.

The roof of the house was gone. Just… Gone. Shorn off by some force. The entrance and porch had been subjected to a series of explosions, and the grounds were an odd mixture of desolate ground that would never grow anything again and patches of overgrown vegetation.

The inside was even worse. Open and subjected to the elements, the damage only increased with time. What little that remained intact slowly fell apart, nature destroying what man left behind. The rooms had been looted and scavenged, the library a burnt out husk, and a layer of dirt and grim clung to every surface in sight.

It was a place of desolation and death. A former image of power and status, now reduced to barely recognizable ruins. Such is what had become of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. Home to the Ancient and most Noble House of Black, former headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and the former home of Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Many would say that it was impossible for anybody to remain here, and it had long been abandoned, both defenders and attackers having left long ago for other battlegrounds.

And yet, hidden from the rest of the world, one person remained in the corpse of the house.

She had never really stood out amongst her peers, and few knew her name outside of her friends.

Never at the top of her classes, though not at the bottom either. She knew how to duel, but nobody would call her a fighting prodigy. She knew that her magical ability was quite high, but there were many others that had higher. Truly, there was not much that made her stand out, though had anybody asked, she would have proudly stated that she played a mean Chaser.

Yet despite all of this, she had been happy.

She might not have been the best or the smartest, but she didn't need to be in order to be of assistance. She wasn't the best of fighters, but she could hold her own, and in a group she was proud to say she was an asset, and not a hindrance. She wasn't the most powerful, but that never really bothered her since she never had the ambition or desire to become a leader.

She had had good friends, and had enjoyed being with them. She would have been satisfied with what she had, would have been perfectly content to find a job, settle down, and live life. Her dream job would have been to be a Chaser on a competitive Quidditch team.

Sadly, this was not to be. Now, her friends were dead, the government was falling apart, and what was worse?

She was now all alone.

It was far from a quick process. Voldemort had caused enough problems on his own, but the manipulations of others for the 'greater good', as well as the schemes of those who were jealous, created even more problems. Lies came to light, schemes were unveiled, and betrayals occurred.

Issues, both large and small, working together to create an impossible scenario to fight against.

She should know. She had tried. They had tried, after all.

That was why she was here in these ruins, about to perform a ritual that might help her change everything. Or kill everything within a few kilometers…Hopefully more of the first part, and none of the second. Not that there was much around to be killed anymore...

Her name was Katherine Bell. And, with any luck, she was going to go back in time to save the world.

Or, to be honest, save her friends. If the world was saved because of that, then all the better.

Katie wiped the sweat from her brow as she looked at the notes for the ritual once more, nervously glancing at the time.

She felt very much out of her depth, attempting to finish this ritual all by herself. Hermione had originally started the process, using the secrets hoarded by the Black family to create the ritual. When she was killed, Harry had picked up where she left off and had worked furiously to finish it, and Katie had helped as best as she could.

And then Harry had been killed, and she had been left all by herself. With all of her friends dead, she had no choice but to continue on. It had taken several years of researching, hard work, and very cramped working conditions, but she finally, finally, had everything ready.

The Ancient Houses each had their own special branches of magic that was theirs alone, but that was far from the only secret knowledge that they kept. It almost seemed like it was a compulsion amongst them to search for and hoard secrets, forbidden or otherwise.

When the mansion had been raided, everything had been destroyed except for the inner vault - where all of the best kept secrets were. They hadn't even realized that this house was the one out of the many Black family houses that contained it.

Kate wasn't even sure why Hermione had begun researching a way to go back in time, but it was certainly fortuitous that she had. There was absolutely no way that she would have been able to accomplish as much as she had without the contributions that both Harry and Hermione had made.

She put down the ritual notes and stretched, looking at her surroundings briefly. The vault was filled to the brim with books and cases of unknown contents, most having locks that required the blood of a Black to unlock, of which she did not qualify. The center of the room was the only clear spot, and it currently contained an intricate ritual circle that had been engraved into the floor, with unlit candles surrounding the circle.

Katie walked around the circle and picked up another pile of notes - these a series of instructions that Harry had written for himself for when he went back himself.

She knew that she should be grateful to have any kind of guidance at all, and that she shouldn't complain. It certainly wasn't Harry's fault that he had died before he could follow through with his plan… But couldn't he have written better notes?!

Avoid the Weasleys… Get the stone as soon as possible… Visit the Chamber before Ginny is possessed… Get Sirius out of Azkaban 'legally'...

What stone?! When had Ginny been possessed? And wasn't Sirius Black Voldemort's supporter?

Katie's first year at Hogwarts had been a relatively normal school year. And then Harry Potter started attending the year after, and all semblance of normality flew out the window.

Katie was aware that a lot of weird things went on during the school years for Harry and Hermoine, but those things had never really come up in conversation. There was always something more pressing to worry about. She remembered that there was some big fuss about avoiding the third floor corridor during her second year, and at the end of the year Harry, Hermoine, Ron, and Neville received a ridiculous amount of points for seemingly inane reasons. Looking back, she could recognize that it was extremely odd that it occurred. But at the time, she was just happy that they had managed to win. And it wasn't like Snape didn't take away enough points from them for asinine reasons…

The third year items were more recognizable - That must be the Chamber that the notes were referring to - when the Chamber of Secrets was opened and a lot of half-bloods and muggleborns started getting petrified. Unfortunately, that was another case where it was only mentioned at the end of the year that the issue was resolved. And what does that have anything to do with Ginny being possessed?

There were more notes of course, giving a series of tasks to accomplish throughout the years of Hogwarts. But without any context, she was left confused as to what the majority of them actually meant!

At least one of the instructions was clear as crystal. Avoiding the Weasleys. "That's something that I can do" she thought viciously, practically feeling the anger start to fill her at the thought of them, quickly stopping that train of thought before her magic could express itself. She had to take several deep breaths, focusing on one of the candles as she calmed herself down.

"It's ok… Everything is fine… I'm going back in time, and I can't get upset at them for stuff that they haven't done yet, and might not… No, will not do. I just... need to calm down…"

She took a final breath and looked at the time once more, wincing when she saw it.

It was time.

She quickly moved over to the ritual circle and removed a large vial from her robes, pouring a golden liquid into the indentation of the ritual circle. As the Felix Felicis potion flowed through the outline of the circle she placed her wand in its designated spot, setting down candles in an array around the area.

The ritual was designed to return something to its beginning. Were she simply to do the ritual with herself, she would return to when she was born.

… She didn't care how desperate the situation was, or how promising the result, she refused to go back to when she was a baby. People had their limits, and that was hers.

Thankfully, the ritual wasn't dependent on that alone. By adding her wand as well as herself as a ritual component, she could ensure that she would be sent back to when she first was given her wand. As an added bonus, the burst of magic released from the link being formed between the two would further serve as an anchor, making sure that she was sent back to the right moment.

She took a deep breath, and began lighting the candles.

"I call upon the guardians of the east, masters of air and change, to bless this attempt of a different path."

Kate walked around the border of the circle, feeling the draft of air that came through the enclosed room and shivered unconsciously.

"I call upon the guardians of the south, masters of fire and new beginnings, to bless this chance to start anew."

Another candle lit, and the temperature of the room increased. There were ancient beings paying attention, especially since rituals such as these hadn't been used in many, many years.

"I call upon the guardians of the west, masters of water and flowing paths, to bless this opportunity to go down another path, for another chance to reach the happiness we desire."

It wasn't like they were forbidden, rather, they were considered 'uncivilized' and primitive, much like using a sword in a non-magical battle. Furthermore, they weren't always reliable, dependent upon the whims of the spirits.

But it was that primal power that she needed in order to accomplish a task such as this.

"I call upon the guardians of the north, masters of earth and prosperity, to bless this attempt to bring stability and peace."

With the last candles lit she knelt on the other side of the ritual circle and spent a moment focusing. She could feel the magic building in and around her, like a powerful electrical charge, and she knew that everything was working so far.

"I stand outside of time and place, on the threshold of never and always." She intoned carefully, eyes closed as she allowed her thoughts to flow with the magic. "By the oaths and treaties that bind spirits and man, on this eve of the spring equinox, the day of change, I ask for thy power and strength."

The magical buildup was getting uncomfortable now. The candles were flaring, the potion of luck within the circle was bubbling, yet never splashing outside the design. Outside the circle she could see a vortex of wind starting to build. She carefully took a ritual knife and cut her hand, the ritual increasing the potency of her magically infused blood. Before the blood could drip from the cut, she carefully inscribed the runes Dagaz, Algiz, and Raidho, around the ritual circle.

Kate took in one last shuddering breath as she finished inscribing the Nordic runes with her blood. The pressure increased once more, but she refused to let herself feel nervous at this crucial part.

Magic never came from words. Rather, it came from intent. The words were simply a way to focus one's intent into something tangible.

"As a sacrifice, I give nothing but the opportunity for something better for all. If this is enough, let thy strength be felt."

For a second nothing happened, and all noise ceased as she held her breath.

All at once, everything seemed to crash into her, and she could only brace herself against the onslaught. The candles burst into towers of flame, the the vortex turned into a veritable tornado, and the ground seemed to shudder underneath her.

After enduring for a second, she felt herself get picked up and thrown as the ground underneath her cracked in a thunderous roar, her mind exploding in pain before she realized what was going on.

Worse than apparition, it felt like her soul was being thrown through a tube, the edges scraping painfully like shards of glass as she traveled. She couldn't move, could barely even think!

Until all of a sudden it all stopped, and she collapsed to her knees, gasping desperately from the feeling of vertigo that assailed her.

"Hmmm… most curious."

She froze, carefully looking up from her position. Standing in front of her (holy cow, he's so tall!), looking at her with undisguised curiosity, was Garrick Ollivander, a man who had died a little more than a decade prior.

She slowly got to her feet, annoyed at how small her 11 year old form was, and looked around, wincing at some of the destruction she could see but failing to feel any guilt for it.

It worked… It actually worked!

She felt like bursting into tears from how happy she felt, but did her best to hide it. It wouldn't do to make Mr. Ollivander think she was happy about destroying his place.

Unfortunately, she forgot how perceptive the man was… He gave a small chuckle, giving her a knowing look. "Well, I dare say that that wand is yours." He said with a smile, "Although that was perhaps one of the most…interesting reactions I've seen from a wand choosing an owner." His face turned more serious, "Now, are you sure that you're alright?"

Kate gave the man a watery smile, "Yes sir," She stated, feeling victorious, "Everything is perfect."

Don't worry everybody.

I'm coming.

Authors Notes:

Hey everybody! So, first off, this story idea was not something I came up with by myself. The author Q,Elwyn.D wrote a story called "Orphans and Short Stories, Plotbunnies Galore", and one of the chapters in there is called "Saved by a Bell". I really liked the story idea, and that is what this chapter is based off of.

The main idea of the story is that instead of Harry being the one to go back in time to try to fix everything, it's somebody that is close enough to know a few things about what had happened, but not know all of the details.

This will be a Harry/Hermione fanfiction. Not sure about other pairings.

Anyways, what do you guys think? I have another story that I am invested in, so I don't know how often I'll be able to update this one. But if people like it, then I will do my best to update it more often.

I'd like to thank two of my sisters (Highelf and CaptainDarkElf) and one of my brothers (Autumnstar) for being willing to beta read this chapter for me, and for suggestions that they gave :).