This fic is for my beta, Naomi, her help is very much appreciated. Credit is given to her for helping me to figure out how Hermione goes back in time, among other things.
Chapter 1 Revised February 23, 2004. Revised again July 13, 2004.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to JK Rowling. I am not making money off this.
Chapter One Falling Into–Where?!?
When Hermione Granger was seventeen her life changed forever. Her life, once so ordinary, became full of the extraordinary. She would think about him for the rest of her life.
Sirius. The one she loved.
Their story begins here.
It was a regular Saturday morning, just like any other ordinary Hogwarts morning.
Little did Hermione know that she was about to fall into something extraordinary, something that would forever touch her life and the lives of everyone she loved forever.
Students piled into the Great Hall for breakfast, then disappeared into their respective groups to gossip, play games, or do coursework.
Hermione, as always, was never far from her best friend Harry and boyfriend Ron. They ate a leisurely breakfast, Ron moaning over the abominable grade he'd received on his latest potion.
"I told you you should have studied harder," Hermione nagged.
"I was busy that night, as you remember," Ron said suggestively. She did remember.
They wandered out onto the Quidditch pitch, Ron and Harry each taking turns on the Firebolt, whizzing over Hermione's head.
"Harry, can I have a go on the Firebolt?" Hermione asked.
"Sure," Harry said warily, looking at Ron. They both knew Hermione's flying skills left much to be desired.
Hermione took the Firebolt from Harry, gingerly. She'd never been much for flying; in fact, she didn't like it at all. It was the only subject that had to be learned with out books. And what kind of subject is that? she thought.
Hermione climbed on the Firebolt and unsteadily flew into the air. She felt a nice breezy sensation. She forgot all her worries. Well, this isn't bad, Hermione thought. She went higher and higher till Harry and Ron were specks. I don't know why I never liked this!
She felt a little like a robot, like she was being made to fly and didn't know it. It felt a bit like the Imperius Curse, although she knew it couldn't possibly be.
Hermione managed a few loop-de-loops, but against her will. She wanted to get off but had no idea how.
Then she began to fall.
Hermione began to fall, faster and faster, in circles. She saw Ron and Harry yelling and running towards her. Hermione felt sick. A glint of gold caught her eye.
It was her necklace.
Necklace? Hermione never wore jewelry.
This one was in the shape of an hour glass.
A Time Turner?
The facts did not compute.
It didn't make sense.
A Time turner?
With a sickening crash, Hermione landed.
"Thought she was dead for sure."
"Lucky you caught her, Padfoot."
"Right in the middle of a Quidditch practice too."
"Where did she come from?"
"Quite attractive, she is."
Hermione's eyes fluttered. "Where am I?" she murmured.
"You're on the Quidditch field." A voice replied. That was Harry.
"I caught you." A boy, an impossibly handsome one. Even in her state Hermione could tell that.
"Harry, your broom is slippery," Hermione said weakly to the first boy.
"Harry? Who's that?" The first boy said. He ran a hand through his untidy hair.
"Disoriented, Prongs," The handsome boy said, his eyes glowing in concern.
"Step away, please," a commanding voice said. It was Dumbledore. "Don't try to move," he told her softly. He magicked Hermione onto a stretcher. "Go back to your game," Dumbledore told the rest of them. They went off, except for the handsome boy, who followed Dumbledore and the stretcher into the castle.
"Poppy," Dumbledore called. "This young lady needs your attention immediately."
The plump nurse came into the room, took one look at Hermione's bruised appearance, and ushered Dumbledore and the boy out.
"Can I just see if she'll be okay?" The boy asked.
"No, I'll get you when she's better. Now out!"
"Poppy," Dumbledore said urgently, "she must come to my office as soon as possible."
Madam Pomfrey nodded, and went to attend to Hermione. She gave Hermione a Sleeping Draught, and Hermione promptly fell asleep.
Hermione woke up a few days later, feeling much better. Over the days she drifted in and out of consciousness. All she could hear was the thrashing in the next bed from the boy with a broken leg, and the soft clatter of the breakfast cart.
Ron, she thought. Where were Ron and Harry? She could feel sunlight on her eyelids but was unable to open them.
She vaguely remembered Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and the boy.
Madam Pomfrey shuffled in, holding fresh bedsheets. For a strange reason she looked somewhat younger, as if she had regressed in years. "Good, you're up, dear." she said, putting the sheets on the bed next to Hermione's.
"Will I be okay?"
"Yes, yes, of course. You are lucky the fall didn't affect you as much as I thought it had. You fell asleep for most of the pain. I think you will be all right."
Hermione sat up. "So I can go see Dumbledore now?"
"As soon as you've dressed, you may."
Hermione eagerly reached for the robes Madam Pomfrey handed her. "These aren't mine, Madam Pomfrey. Didn't my boyfriend bring me some clothes?" Hermione asked, ready to strangle Ron for not doing so.
"Boyfriend? You mean Sirius. I didn't know he was your boyfriend. Goodness knows he's acted like one, coming in here every day."
"Sirius? No, my boyfriend is Ron. Ron Weasley." Something strange was going on here. Madam Pomfrey harrumphed. "I must be going out of my mind. Dear, the only Weasley that attended Hogwarts was Arthur, and he graduated years ago."
Hermione got up, trying to recall the events of her fall. She had flashes of Ron and Harry and the Firebolt. But—was she dreaming? All she remembered was the fall, and a glint of gold.
Glint of gold! A Time Turner! But who put it on her?
As Hermione tried to work through all these facts, the handsome boy walked in, holding the Daily Prophet and a glass of pumpkin juice.
Hermione lept up from the bed and snatched the newspaper from him. He looked shocked to see her awake, and more shocked to see her run at him and grab the newspaper away. "Good morning to you,too," the boy muttered.
Hermione didn't hear him, she looked at the paper.
The date read September 21, 1975.