Chapter Text
June 18, 1996 London, England - The Department of Mysteries Time Room
Hermione, Harry, and Neville sat hunched over under desks, panting as quietly as they could. They could see the bottom of two Death Eaters' robes drawing nearer, their feet moving rapidly.
"They might've run straight through to the hall," said the rough voice.
"Check under the desks," Said another.
Hermione watched Harry as the the first Death Eater bent to examine the desk he was sat under. His wand emerged as he shouted, "STUPEFY!"
A jet of red light hit the nearest Death Eater; he fell backward into a grandfather clock and knocked it over. The second Death Eater, however, had leapt aside to avoid Harry's spell and now pointed his own wand at Hermione, who had crawled out from under the desk to get a better aim.
"Avada -"
Harry launched himself across the floor and grabbed the Death Eater around the knees, causing him to topple and his aim to go awry. Neville overturned his desk in his anxiety to help; pointing his wand wildly at the struggling pair, he cried, "EXPELLIARMUS!"
Both Harry and the Death Eater's wands flew out of their hands and soared back toward the entrance to the Hall of Prophecy; both scrambled to their feet and charged after them. Hermione had since moved away from the pair, backing herself up against a glass- fronted cabinet. She pointed her wand at the Death Eater but didn't dare to take a shot until Harry was clear.
"Get out of the way, Harry!" yelled Nevilled, clearly determined to repair the damage he'd done. Harry flung himself sideways as Neville took aim again and shouted, "STUPEFY!"
The jet of red flew right over the Death Eater's shoulder and hit the glass-fronted cabinet on the wall full of variously shaped hour glasses, clipping Hermione's shoulder as it went. The glass shattered around her as she looked up at Harry, startled. One of the hourglasses broke as it hit her head with quite some force. Harry watched in horror as she disappeared.
Hermione wasn't sure what was happening; it was as though she was being forced through a tube with lights on the inside, going extremely fast. She felt dizzy, disoriented, and couldn't tell up from down. Not to mentions the sticky feeling in her hair that she knew was blood from the impact of the hourglass. Her head felt funny, and as she felt herself slipping in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, she was deposited unceremoniously on a hard, dark floor where she immediately threw up from the sensations and their sudden cessation. She glanced around the room, vaguely registering it as the same one she'd been in previously before she fell unconscious.
June 18, 1976 London, England - St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Albus Dumbledore stood just outside the ward on the fourth floor, being briefed on the current situation.
"You're sure, Albus, that there is no magical child absent from Hogwarts?" Harold Minchum, the Minister for Magic, asked him for the fourth time. Dumbledore merely agreed once more, his unyielding patience proving itself an asset once again.
"I'm sure, Harold. I've already sent letters to the heads of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and even Ilvermorny in regards to missing students. Until I hear back from them, or until she wakes up, I fear we will not have much more information than we do presently." Dumbledore said calmly. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to let me speak with her Healer? I'd like to know as much as possible about the girl and how she came to be here."
The Minister nodded, guiding the other man into the ward and towards the bed at the end, where two healers were working on a young girl. One stepped away to talk to the approaching men, looking anxious.
"Professor Dumbledore, Minister Minchum," The mediwitch greeted them each in turn. "I take it you've come to check on the girl?" Dumbledore nodded solemnly.
"Indeed, Healer Fawley. I'd also like to know how she came to require medical attention." Dumbledore asked softly. The mediwitch sighed, looking flustered.
"I wish I knew. She was brought to Mungo's from the Ministry, Department of Mysteries, no less. As you know, the things that go on in there are a highly guarded secret. All that was said was she was found in the Time Room, unconscious and bleeding from a decently-sized head wound. When cleaning her up, we found this." The mediwitch drew her wand and turned, levitating what looked like a misshapen hourglass that was placed on a silver tray between until it came to rest between her and the men.
"Intriguing." Dumbledore said thoughtfully, one spindly hand stroking his knotted beard. "It appears we may have an unintentional time-traveller on our hand. Minister, I expect this will not make the papers, as such a disturbance could cause general unrest. Especially with all that is going on with Voldemort these days."
"Must you use that name, Albus?" the minister hissed. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a bit.
"Yes, Harold. I must." Dumbledore said. "Madame," He said, returning his attention to the mediwitch, "I'll be taking responsibility for the child until further notice. I expect to be notified when she wakes."
"Of course, Professor." the witch said. With a curt nod to both the witch and wizard, Dumbledore strode out of the room, heading for the fifth floor. He hated the idea that a young girl would awake in a strange place, alone, and without so much as a vase of flowers or a bar of chocolate as solace. So he sought to remedy that at once.
June 20, 1976 London, England - St. Mungo's Hospital
Hermione stirred, a throbbing ache in her head. She opened her eyes, blinking blearily and trying to figure out what had happened. The last thing she remembered was the ache in her head and being surrounded by color and light. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see Albus Dumbledore sitting beside her bed, reading the Daily Prophet. He looked much the same as she remembered him the last time she'd seen him, though there was something - off. She stirred, attempting to sit up a bit.
"Ah, awake are you, young lady?" Dumbledore asked, looking up from his paper. "Healer Fawley said that you'd be waking up within the hour. She's taken good care of you."
Hermione blinked a couple times, rubbing her eyes. She wasn't imagining it, then. Dumbledore looked younger, his beard just slightly shorter, and a tad darker than it had been. She watched him carefully as he folded the Prophet and sat it in his lap, looking at her with mild concern. The lines on his face were less pronounced, but his twinkling blue eyes remained just the same as ever.
"Professor Dumbledore?" She asked, groggily. She watched the man's eyebrows shoot up.
"It appears you know who I am, but I haven't the foggiest as to who you may be, young lady." He told her, his spindly fingers forming interlacing before him as he leaned back in his chair.
Hermione blanched; he didn't know who she was? She thought hard, trying to remember what she'd been doing just before she'd lost consciousness. She remembered the lights, and the dizziness. She reached up and felt her head; she knew at something had fallen on her, something that was hourglass shaped in the cabinet above her.
"It was a time-turner." Hermione murmured under her breath. Thankfully, he hadn't heard her assessment. She turned back to the professor. "Sir, could I see your paper?" She asked. Dumbledore nodded, handing his paper to the young witch, his face remaining neutral.
Hermione unfolded the paper carefully, turning to the front cover. There, she had her suspicions confirmed by a simple, black-and-white date. Sunday, June 20, 1976. She took her time, carefully folding the paper back and handing it back to Dumbledore, trying to maintain her composure.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" He asked. Hermione nodded slowly, chewing on her lip nervously. The internal battle on whether or not to tell him raged within her. Finally, the negative repercussions weighed too heavily on her.
"Sir, I have reason to believe the word as we know it may be in danger. I- I don't think I'm from this time. Actually, all the evidence practically insists upon it." Dumbledore looked the girl over calmly, an eyebrow raised curiously.
"Well why don't you begin with telling me when you are from, dear girl? And also your name, perhaps?" he said.
"Hermione." She said, at once. She'd forgotten that he didn't know her. She supposed she couldn't do much more damage than she had done already, and she needed help if she were to figure out her predicament. "And last I recalled, it was June, 1996." Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"Yes, indeed, Hermione. It seems as though you've found yourself in a time before you were even born, I'd venture." he said, idly stroking his beard. "How did you come to be here? And with such grievous injuries?" Hermione thought for a moment, trying to recall her memories.
"I was fighting- in the Ministry, Harry and I- and the Order were on their way, but there were so many Death Eaters. Neville sent a stunner at one and it clipped my shoulder and shattered the glass cabinet behind me. Something fell on my head, and it felt like I was being squeezed through a tube. That's all I can remember." Hermione explained with some difficulty.
"The Order? What do you know of the Order, Hermione?" Dumbledore was suddenly very serious. She looked around, trying to see if anyone was around to hear, before leaning closer to the old man, motioning for him to lean forward.
"The Order of the Phoenix. It's a secret society, you founded it to oppose Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. There was a group of us who wanted to fight, to stand with the Order, but we were too young. So we formed our own defense group, so we could learn how to fight. That's why we were in the Ministry. Harry had a- feeling. I really shouldn't say any more." Hermione said, frowning.
"That's probably for the best." Dumbledore said. "I hate to say this, dear, but I'm afraid I don't have a solution to get you back to your own time." Hermione nodded; she knew the known laws of time well enough that she figured there would be no easy solution to her problem. Nevertheless, she worried about what that meant for the timeline.
"What are we to do, then, Professor?" She asked. "The laws of time are very clear. Don't meddle with time. If you interfere even a little you could change the course of history. The longer I'm here, the greater the chance that I could say or do something to alter the timeline."
"We hide you in plain sight," Dumbledore explained, "With an appropriate cover story, it will be as though nothing were out of place. Until the Unspeakables in the Time Room figure out how to send you back to your own time, a task that we shall put them on immediately, you shall have to blend in to this time seamlessly. I have the resources available, if you think you are up to the challenge. We can consider it your first mission as a part of the Order." Dumbledore's eye twinkled just a bit and Hermione had a feeling in her gut that she was being played, at least a little, like a pawn in a grand chess game. Nonetheless, she nodded reluctantly. She didn't have much choice in the matter.
"Very good. Now, I'll have to write a few letters and arrange some things, mostly to find you a host family. I have several families loyal to the Order with children around your age. I'll be in contact with them by no later than tomorrow. The end of term feast at Hogwarts is due late next week, so I fear I cannot stay with you here much longer." Dumbledore told her, getting to his feet.
"I understand, sir." Hermione said, trying to keep the fear off of her features. Being alone in a world she didn't know was rather unnerving. She knew that wasn't entirely the truth; there were plenty people she knew from her time who were alive in this one, but they didn't know her yet. She found that thought a little unsettling.
"I will owl you with more information as I receive it, Hermione. Healer Fawley will stay with you. As I have said, she's taken excellent care of you. I should have a host family arranged as early as Tuesday." the old man tried to reassure her. "We will have to meet, eventually, with the Unspeakables to see what kind of timeline we're looking at here. I don't think there will be a quick solution to this problem, however. As such, I would like you to speak to no one about when you are from without me present. Understood?" He asked, looking at her almost sternly. She nodded.
Dumbledore smiled at her, then picked up something from her bedside table, tossing it to her. She caught it deftly, looking down. It was a chocolate frog. She looked up at him, smiling, before looking back at her bedside table. There sat a large vase of flowers and a basket of chocolates. She grinned widely, knowing it was Dumbledore's doing.
"Keep your head up, Hermione. We must stay positive when faced with struggle." He said, winking and turning to leave, his robes billowing behind him.