Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter world or Terminator. Some dialogue borrowed from the second Terminator movie.

A/N: I am really hoping I will be able to begin making regular posts for this story. Right now I am playing with every week and a half. This story is going to follow the third movie for a time, but some big cannon changes are going to start popping up.

It had been three years since she disappeared without a trace.

The local authorities had been alerted to the presence of high levels of magic in a muggle neighborhood on the outskirts of LA. A week later the connection to Unspeakable Granger's lack of reports was made. Newly installed UK Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt found himself having the unfortunate task of informing her friends of the incident.

Hermione Granger was missing.

Not dead, because no one, not even himself was willing to tell the Boy-Who-Won that there was no hope despite the increasing evidence to suggest otherwise.

The Unspeakables, Thank Merlin, found themselves being uncharacteristically open when Harry Potter and Ron Weasely insisted in joining the investigation once the American Ministry agreed to a joint taskforce.

No, he couldn't get the Yanks to release the case into the UK's jurisdiction and please remember Auror Potter that you are only there as a courtesy.

Still nothing even after weeks, months of searching and having the boys running everyone ragged and Kingsley using every political trick he could to give them the latitude to find their answers. Everyone was being incredibly accommodating, understanding their need to find out what happened to their friend. The accolades young Potter always shunning finally being used as one favor was called in, followed by another as experts in every field were being dragged in to examine the site.

No one wanted to say it, but the day came that he found himself staring at what a private floo call with the American Minister of Magic revealed to him was the official final report of the incident, Kingsley knew he would have to.

What was determined was Miss Granger had obviously fought a number of rogue Death Eaters, what remained of the bodies having already been identified. He privately hoped that she had given the bastards hell.

…Victim three's skull fragments found imbedded in the remains of the south-side wall, fracture size not consistent with bone fragments generated by explosion…

They knew she had been in the warehouse shortly before the explosion, magical forensic methods having discovered quite a bit of the witch's blood. Too much blood, much too much.

Minister if she survived the explosion I don't see how…

The purpose of her trip had been declassified within the first hour the connection with Granger was established and an examination of her case commenced. The strange readings and fluctuations of magic they were finding, the traces of timeturner dust found at the scene, were leading to a rather unwanted conclusion.

Someone had tried to mess with the fabric of time on a scale not ever before attempted, had literally torn a hole in the fabric of reality in the process. What little he knew about the mechanics of time travel from his Auror days pointed to just how troubling that news was. There was a reason why timeturners use to be regulated by the Ministry.

Awful things happened to wizards who messed with time.

The warning wasn't because of worries about wizards attempting to change the past to suit their personal agendas. It was in reaction to the number of deaths attributed to temporal magical experimentation, both of the wizard attempting the spell and the number of innocent bystanders that had been caught in magical backlashes over the years.

Time was a harsh mistress and dealt severely with those who tried to mess with her.

Unspeakable Granger's disappearance from the scene when all evidence suggests that she suffered mortal wounds in a confrontation with a group of heavily armed Death Eaters leads these investigators to conclude the aforementioned dark ritual being attempted removed her from the time stream. The methods to determine the when and where she was transported to have not yielded results, despite a rigorous examination by the top leaders of this field. A search into the background of the area has been hindered by the location being in a muggle neighborhood…

It went without saying, it didn't go well at all.

Harry and Ron both wouldn't let it go, Hermione had to be okay. The slightest hint of a lead had them crossing the pond into the middle of know where…Mexico, Columbia, Panama, Honduras, America, Mexico again.

There was really no choice, but to let them.

For three years nothing.

He had been sitting in his office when the Head Unspeakable had come running in slamming the door into the wall with a flock of secretaries and more Unspeakables on his heels. The flustered man locked eyes with him.

"Something's happening, Minister. It's like nothing we've ever seen, the whole room its gone wild. The energy, it's like, it's like when Miss Granger went missing, but the fluctuations are too controlled, to-too specific. There was a trace of something back in the 90s, but we didn't have the detectors in place like we do now. Whatever is happening it's big, something, someone has come through."

Kingsley was already out of his chair and circling the desk to grip the shoulders of the man. "Where?" He demanded. "Where is she?"

"Los Angles. The energy is coming from, Los Angles."

The work was hard, but it kept him occupied. Breaking cement, digging trenches. Punch out, go home, sleep, do it all over again the next day.

Restless he took his bike out. He drove through the twilight, chasing ghosts as darkness descended.

There was a deer. He swerved. The metal frame screeched, sparks flew.

Shit.

Shoving the hunk of junk off, John let out a string of curses. Dragging the bike upright he swung his leg over it. He slammed the clutch. It sputter, he tried again and finally it turned over.

Placing himself he headed back toward the city. He managed to keep his balance while clutching his leg. Drugs, he needed drugs.

Finding a veterinary clinic took a while, but he couldn't risk going to a hospital. A picked lock. Broken glass and he had some painkillers. Shaking in pain he dry swallowed. He let the minutes pass and the drugs to activate.

A key turned. Someone was here.

Limping into the shadows he waited. A woman walked in. She saw the broken glass and he stepped forward to prevent her sounding an alarm. In a haze of drugs she got the upper hand, locking him in a damn cage.

She called him John and he tried to remember her face.

Kate.

His first kiss in some kid's old basement from back in the day. The day before the Terminator came for him. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

A knock at the front alerted her to an emergency call.

While she disappeared John tried to free himself. The sound of a struggle made his efforts more forceful, but fuck she was good. He was stuck. He slammed the cage door in frustration and growing alarm as the sounds became more frantic, but it wouldn't budge.

The methodical footsteps.

He knew those type of steps.

Fuck.

No. No. Fuck, no.

Around the corner stepped something that resembled a woman.

It was like something was sucking the air from the room. Struggling to stay focused as a light headed feeling threated and the thundering steps were overwhelmed by the sound of a pounding heartbeat in his ears.

Perfectly poised dressed in a lurid red, the thought that it was dressed to kill filtered through his head. It raised a gun the telltale red light blinding, they had found him again.

The crash of a truck driving through the wall distracted the thing before being run over. Adrenalin pumping he broke free of the paralysis that held him in place and ran outside. His familiar rescuer grabbed him and shoved him into a van.

The chase was intense. Destruction followed in their wake, ripping apart cars, homes and the road. The pursuing truck flipped. He could hear the screaming of the girl in the back, but ignored it for the moment.

He had to know. What went wrong? They had stopped Judgement Day. She had stopped Judgment Day. Had waited for years and nothing had happened, the world kept on spinning.

He was no God-damn savior.

The machine that resembled his old protector, but wasn't because they had destroyed the last one, watched it melt into an unusable blob, informed him.

Judgement Day was inevitable and it was here.

Today, It was fucking today.

There was barely anytime for him to process that knowledge as the thing found them again and the chase continued.

Elizabeth Anderson remembered the sound of gunfire echoing up the stairs followed by screams before a woman had walked into her room. After that all she could remember was a searing pain then blackness.

The movement which she had only been partially aware of stopped. Fighting her way to consciousness she heard a car door open before someone lifted her up and began to carry her. A groan escaped as she was jostled, the pain in her chest flared briefly before settling back down.

The movement stopped. She was placed on something soft and left alone. The sound of footsteps got further away. An eye was forced open then another only to fight against the bright light overhead.

Grogginess threated to steal her away, but panic was setting in.

Where was she?

A blurry shape began to solidify into that of a man as he approached.

"What-who are…where are we?"

"You were shot."

Confused Elizabeth could only shake her head at the statement, it didn't make sense. What had happened? Where was everybody? Her brother…

"William?"

The man's expression grew grim. "There was only time to get one of you out."

No. No. "You're lying, he's not, he can't. Let me go, I have to find him." He held her down as she tried to stand. "Leave me alone. Just who the Hell are you?" She demanded as denial gave way to anger.

"My name is Draco Malfoy and if you want to live you'll come with me."