A/N:

So… The prologue is up

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; it's universe or anyone of its beings or wonderfulness. I simply play with the characters J. K. Rowling so generously made for us to love.

I do not own the song Breathe (2AM), by Anna Nelick either.

Prologue:

Impossible to Remember, Impossible to Forget

'Cause you can't jump the track; we're like cars on a cable,

Life is like an hourglass glued to the table,

No one can find the rewind button girl,

So cradle your head in your hands.

Anna Nelick, Breathe (2AM)

Truth was, she had known for a while. She had known she would have to do it. She had been aware that by waiting, she was only procrastinating, and it wasn't like her to be procrastinating. Procrastinating wasn't something that Hermione Granger did, or something that she does. She actually saw it as a sign of weakness, and Hermione Jean Granger was anything but weak.

Voldemort was dead, for now, at least. However, what good was that when people continued dying like flies? The difference between Voldemorts downfall in the first wizarding war and the second was just that. When he fell the first time, his followers either went to jail, or pretended not to be his followers. After his second fall, his followers just continued killing. The order was almost gone. The government more corrupt than ever.

The new minister of magic were going after every muggle and every muggleborn in the whole of Britain, and if the rumours were correct, camps were showing up all over Britain and Ireland, much like the concentration camps of the second muggle world war. Of course, the prophet said nothing about any of this. Neither did any muggle newspaper. However, the rumours were there, and Hermione had a feeling that the rumours were more than true.

There were also other rumours of death eaters expanding their area, and going out of Britain to find more death eaters, and prey. In Portugal and France several muggle families had started disappearing, and in Spain, the whole muggle government was gone. Hermione was reviled that her parents lived safely in Australia, away from all the pain their world was facing. At least they wouldn't have to know about the pain she felt. At least they wouldn't feel any pain if they never saw her again. She was grateful that they didn't know. At least they, her family, got to survive this even if she and her friends might not. It was a small hope that sometimes was the only thing that made her able to survive from one day to another.

She had known ever since that fateful day in the Great Hall that something was wrong. She had known when he laughed, she had known when he hexed, and she had known when his lifeless body fell to the floor. There was another Horcrux; and she had no bloody idea where it might be. It had been nagging her for a while that something was wrong, but at the moment she knew, she had no idea what to do about the knowledge.

At that point, she could have gone to Dumbledore's painting. Harry would have done so, she assumed, but she did not do that. It wouldn't help her, and it wouldn't help Harry. She couldn't continue living on the run, looking for something that they might never find. She couldn't continue living on mushrooms and water. Hermione was certain that neither would Harry, or Ron. She sighed. There had to be a way…

It was at that point that she remembered her conversation with Minerva almost a year earlier. There, standing in the great hall, looking at everyone that was still fighting. It had been on her mind for a while, but it was first now that she understood that perhaps that time she was waiting for would be here very soon.

Flashback:

Minerva grabbed her hand and dragged her off to somewhere unknown place in the castle, just after Dumbledore's funeral. Gasping for breath, and curious as to why her mentor had dragged her here; Hermione clutched herself to a nearby door handle, trying to slow her pulse down to a normal beat. Minerva unlocked a door, and quickly hushed her in, looking both right and left before she closed the door behind herself and warded said door.

She seemed worried, and Hermione was worried because her professor was worried. It was something that she had learned to do a while ago, because if professor McGonagall was worried, there was something to be worried about.

Hermione leaned against a desk, while Minerva smiled sadly at her. Her professor sat down on a chair, leaning against a wall in the small classroom they sat in. Her legs crossed underneath her teacher robes. They were black as always. No red, no green, no any other colour. They had just been at a funeral, after all.

"20 years ago," Minerva started, while going through a purse Hermione only than realised that her professor had carried with her. "A prophecy was read to me, here in this very room," she continued. Hermione could have sworn that she saw a tear running down her mentors face. It wasn't like professor McGonagall to cry, and it only made her more worried. She nodded, wondering where the woman was going with this. Prophecies were scary things. She was glad that at least her first 15 years were lived without any of them, knowingly, hanging over her head.

"It was an alternative solution for all of our troubles. Yet, not a quest easily performed." McGonagall stated, looking at the brave teenager standing in front of her. Hermione could see how painful it was for her professor to tell her about this. Again, Hermione could have sworn that she saw tears leaving her professors eyes.

"There are seven Hoxcruxes, Minerva. He won't be gone before we rid the world of them." Hermione explained, while trying not to cry in front of her mentor that had survived so much pain. Minerva nodded. She wasn't surprised. Her eyes shone of understanding, of realising. This was not news for her, or at least, she wasn't surprised by the news.

"I'm sorry, my dear. However, we do not have much time," Minerva explained, looking down on her wristwatch. Hermione looked up at her professor. "This prophecy, spoke about a young lioness, seeing the sin. She would be the only one to know when her mission was to start, powered by knowledge no one else had." Minerva said shortly, while she looked sadly upon her student. Hermione's eyes met Minerva's in shock. This was news to her. Hermione wanted to bang her head in the desk she currently sat at. Of course there was another prophecy. It would be stupid to assume that there had only been made one concerning Voldemorts regain. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Hermione wanted to ask Minerva why she was telling her this, but deep inside she knew why. There could only be one reason, really.

"It's me, isn't it? I'm the lioness. It's my mission." Minerva nodded at her conclusion. "Yes, my dear, I fear so," Minerva replied, sadly, while placing a jewellery box on the table in between them. After receiving a nod from her professor, Hermione opened the box, seeing the very same time turner she had used in her third year placed nicely in the middle. Underneath it laid a letter, and a small notebook. Minerva, however, stopped her from reaching for any of it. Her hand laid softly on top of Hermione's, as in a warning. Hermione looked at it.

"You will know when the time is right, my dear. And when the time is right, you find a good secluded place, and than you open the letter and start your mission. It might not be needed. You might never feel like the time is right, but if you do, you now have the means to make your journey possible. Unless you go back, you need never see into the notebook. It tells of too many terrible things." Minerva finished, closing the lid, making Hermione's eyes snap up at the older witch.

"How long back do I go?" Hermione asked, almost in a whisper. Tears were streaming down her face for real this time. Minerva petted her on the cheek. Time ravel was a dangerous thing. Time was too easy to alter, and altering time was breaking law. Hermione Granger did not like breaking laws, but when necessary, breaking laws was like a hobby for her. Yet, it was still dangerous.

"I can not answer you that, my dear, for I am not certain myself. It will all depend on when, or if, the time comes." Minerva finished, before smiling sadly at her.

"If the time, however, comes. Do come see me in the future."

End of Flashback

Now, almost three months after the battle of Hogwarts, the time had come, Hermione was sure of it. Ron was dead. Ginny was dead. Harry was dead. Minerva was dead. Everyone was dead. Sneaking away from the Room of Requirement, where she and a couple of others had been hiding for the better part of two months, she ran to the inner corners of the library, hidden under Harry's old invisibility cloak. Yet unsure of how long back it was time would take her, she was certain that this part of the library was unused by most. It was a quiet night. Hermione shock at the meaning of that: the death eaters were out of the castle. If the death eaters were out of the castle, God knows what they were doing to unknowing muggles.

After she placed the jewellery box on the table, she lifted of the beautifully carved wooden top, and picked up the time turner, first, and than the letter. Opening the almost yellow paper, Hermione could feel the magic streaming out of it. The paper must have had some sort of spell on it. On it two very short sentences stood. The first one:

Do come see me when you come

Number two, although a bit longer, meant just as much. It was an order, not something that would explain what the mystery mission McGonagall had started her on. Not something explaining how far back she would go, or if she would be able to return. Not a warning of what she would see when she opened her eyes in her new time line, and not a word of what would happen to her present timeline once she was gone.

21 Big turns, 2 half turns, 17 small turns

Hermione itched after opening the notebook, but remembered Minerva's warning. She really did not need to know about the gruesomeness inside it before she knew what her mission was. However, disappointed that Hermione Granger was, she packed down the box and the letter. She made sure that her wand was in her pocket, that she wore her pendant, and than she started turning.

21 big turns, 2 half turns, and 17 small turns later, Hermione Granger disappeared, and her original time line was ruined forever.

Moreover, when Hermione opened her eyes again, it was looking up in the face of her old potions professor, and a witch with flaming red hair.

"Ginny?" Hermione questioned, her eyes still blurry after the leap in time. "How good to see you," Hermione cried, happy to see her friend alive. She hugged her struggling body to her own being, and it was than that she noticed two things.

Firstly, this witch was not Ginny Weasley, the hair was wrong, the perfume was wrong, and the eyes, oh, the eyes were wrong too.

Secondly, the wizard standing in front of her was Severus Snape, but he was at least 20 years younger than when she last saw him.

She quickly let the witch with the beautiful eyes go.

"Oh, bullocks!" she exclaimed, before passing out again. This was not going to end well.

A/N:

Yeah… Reviews are cherished. Always. What a surprise ;) If you've got any questions, I might answer them Anyway, see you next chapter I've got many of them ready so, hopefully it won't be long.

Also, I haven't got a Beta, so if you know anyone… send me a message

Sincerely,

CapabilisMaiden