Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money off of the craziness I call fanfiction.

Warnings: Language. Seriously, I can cuss like a sailor and considering the situation Hermione finds herself in, it's not hard to imagine that she would have a few choice words to say as well XD lol

A/N:As promised, starting mid-June (June 15th seems "mid" enough for me! XD lol) I will TRY and post SOMETHING every week, be it a new story, a oneshot, or a new chapter to one of my existing stories. Don't expect a whole lot out of me, real life has been kicking my butt! Not only that, but I will be going on a "mini vacation" to see family next week so I might be delayed in posting... or I might put something up early. You never know with me! XD lol I'm Chaotic Neutral (with bad habits) :D

Word Count: 3047

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Can Rewrite A Prophecy a.k.a. C.R.A.P.

(because Hermione is so wonderful with acronyms XD lol)

Chapter One: Another place, Another time...

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'If I ever see Fate again, I'm going to bitch slap her...' Hermione thought as she assessed the stick of a woman in front of her. 'Wouldn't mind practicing on this bird first.'

The lady - Hermione used the term loosely here - looked like a hawk, or perhaps a harpy, what with her sharp features and beady black eyes. With her skinny little frame it seemed as if even the bones of her skeleton had an edge. The only thing remotely "soft" about the female was her hair, and that was pulled back into a tight bun. The worst part about the matron - surprisingly enough - was not her looks at all. No, it was her attitude! The "caretaker" was a true Harpy in Muggle form...

"Now I'm sure you won't understand what I'm about to say, but do try and keep up..."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the condescending woman as violent thoughts played in her mind. 'Just because I became a Healer doesn't mean I'm against being the cause of a person's injuries.' Yes, the war had changed her. 'War changes everyone.'

Then again, she had hit Malfoy LONG before the conflict erupted so...

But it wasn't as if the war had happened yet. After all, if Hermione was correct in her hypothesis, -based on her observations over the course of her trip from the Police Station to the Orphanage- Voldemort was still a schoolboy...

'If that.' Hermione wasn't entirely sure what year she was in, just that it was around the 1930s or 40s. 'Vehicles and fashion have never been a main focus of mine, even while reading up on history I never bothered to delve into that particular branch of knowledge.' And seeing as fashion and vehicles were all she had to go on to formulate a theory... she could be slightly off.

"Are you even paying attention, girl?" Mrs. Cole growled.

Hermione mentally rolled her eyes. She would not disrespect the Matron... that's what she kept telling herself at least. No, she would play nice... Well, until she understood what was going on. Or something drastic happened. Or she managed to figure out what cruel joke Fate was playing on her. Or the bitch managed to royally tick her off...

'Perhaps I should go Marauder on her arse.' Hermione thought with a grin as she met the woman's beady black eyes. Yes, a good prank would be a less brutal way of taking the Harpy down a few pegs.

Sure the young Matron already looked as if she had been harassed several times, daily, but with the attitude Mrs. Cole had... Yeah, Hermione just couldn't find it in herself to pity the bitch.

"Are you deaf?" The woman made it sound as if she thought Hermione defective.

"No Ma'am."

"Have you been paying attention to me?"

"Yes Ma'am." Hermione stated. 'More than you know.'

"Oh really? Then what did I say?" Mrs. Cole inquired as she looked into the "child's" icy blue eyes.

Hermione smiled mischievously. 'Big mistake.' Yes, one should never ask a bookworm like her a question like THAT.

"You said, and I quote, 'Pity that your parents had to up and die. Fools should have known better than to go into that part of town. Thanks to their stupidity, we are burdened with yet another mouth to feed. No matter. You are lucky. Wool's Orphanage is the best this side of London.' Here you sniffed and stuck your nose up in the air." Hermione had to comment on that particular motion.

Maybe if Mrs. Cole knew what she was doing, and the attitude she was exuding, she could clean up her act.

'Doubtful.' Hermione thought since the Harpy started to glare daggers at her. "Right, then you went on to say, 'Your parents left you a small Trust Fund, which has been absorbed by the orphanage to cover the cost of keeping you.' By the way, just so you are aware Mrs. Cole, that is not legal..."

"What do you know! You are just a child, you know nothing. We will be taking care of you, clothing you, feeding you, and even teaching your ungrateful arse. Show some respect!" Mrs. Cole yelled and Hermione was sorely tempted to hex the Matron.

'You know what... she's not worth it.' Satisfying as it might be, the thrill would only be temporary. She did not wish to have to try and explain that one to the Aurors.

Though if she was at an orphanage and they were taking her on as a ward, it did raise several questions in which Hermione would need to find answers for. Because last she had checked, before Fate had gotten ahold of her, she had been well over the age of eighteen... and already in the twenty-first century.

"Speaking of costs..." Mrs. Cole trailed off as she eyed something near Hermione's neck.

The young witch raised an eyebrow in response before she looked down at herself.

Apparently whoever Hermione was at the moment had come from wealth, which made her wonder why she was at an orphanage rather than a relative's house. Dead parents or no, families usually take care of their own. ESPECIALLY if said child came with a Trust Fund, no matter the size... though she was beginning to question if said fund was as "small" as Mrs. Cole claimed.

Her clothes were made of a fine material and were obviously expensive. If the brilliant green fabric from which they were made wasn't a clue, then the beadwork threaded throughout the dress was a dead giveaway. Heck, even the Mary Janes on her little feet were blatantly ostentatious.

However it wasn't her clothing that had caught the Harpy's attention. A key dangled from around Hermione's neck to rest peacefully against her flat chest. The key was made from a black metal of sorts, and the design where one would grip the object was positively breathtaking. A magnificent bird of prey was carved out of the metal and rather than the dull black of the key itself, the bird was a glimmering onyx with blue and purple highlights throughout.

'I've heard of something like this before, but it was lost! My ancestor possessed it, but it disappeared before my namesake became of age.'

"Give that to me." Mrs. Cole demanded and held out her hand, obviously she was used to being obeyed.

Hermione, however, just looked at the woman as if a nargle had attached itself to her head.

"You must be joking." Hermione thought aloud. There was no way that she was LIVING the moment her family heirloom went missing, right?

"I most certainly am not. Now hand it over!"

Apparently she was.

'Well, she'll not have it. I will not have something so precious lost to my family because of this bitch's greed.' This counted as something drastic... and the bitch royally ticking her off. 'No more playing nice.' Not when a priceless piece of her family history was at stake.

Hermione glared at the woman and approached the Matron, though she made no move to take the necklace off her person.

"No. Now you listen to me and you listen well you horrible woman. If you attempt to take this family heirloom from me, you will regret it." She was sure to put a little magic behind her words, much like she had to do with her patients sometimes at St. Mungos, to get her point across.

Hermione would be damned if SHE ended up being the reason the necklace went missing...

'Though if it was lost because the child gave it to this "woman" for "safe keeping", then that would mean that I'm...'

"Are you threatening me, Hermione?" Mrs. Cole asked through gritted teeth, though her discomfort was apparent.

'...my namesake.' Well that was decidedly odd... It seemed that Fate had sent her back and shoved her soul into the body of the ancestor she was named after.

"I don't make threats." Short, simple, and judging from the Matron's reaction... quite effective.

"You... you're as bad as HIM." Mrs. Cole spat as she backed away quickly, while Hermione created a shield around herself subconsciously.

Between the war and patients who were not in their right mind, it was second nature for her to erect a shield at even the slightest sign of agitation. And though Mrs. Cole was on the defensive, the woman might see herself as "backed into a corner" and could most certainly go on the offensive.

"I will not deal with another FREAK."

"Freak?" Hermione raised a brow in a questioning gesture while she crossed her arms haughtily. "Explain."

"Tom does freakish things. Makes things happen around him. Sure he says he doesn't, but I know he's lying. Even as a baby we could tell he wasn't normal." Mrs. Cole seemed to go into a daze of sorts, lost in memories... "And playing with snakes in the yard. Yes, the Devil's child for sure!"

"With all due respect, Mrs. Cole, children are not born evil. They are blank slates, their experiences throughout their lives the chisel and the choices they make the driving force which sculpt whether they are "good" or "evil." Even then, nothing is black and white. There are so many shades of grey..."

"What ARE you?" Mrs. Cole asked suddenly and cut off Hermione's little monologue.

"A walking, talking index." Hermione laughed lightly at her own inside joke.

She noticed that the Matron looked ready to bolt and sighed. She would take pity on the Harpy... but just this once.

"I read... a LOT, Mrs. Cole. My intelligence is far beyond my age. I'm what many would call a prodigy." Hermione knew this would get the woman's attention.

If the Matron was truly as greedy as she seemed, then the thought of someone as promising as a "prodigy" within her orphanage would be most appealing. Hermione was sure the Harpy would relax, or at least attempt to be nice.

"There is nothing wrong with me, I'm just different." The young witch shrugged, though she made sure to add a little magic to her statement as she exuded a calming aura. 'Since it is apparent that I am currently a child, the Ministry will write it off as "accidental" magic. Besides that, this little stunt should land my name in the Hogwarts Registry for when I'm old enough to attend...'

Mrs. Cole just nodded dumbly before she narrowed her black eyes at the "child" in front of her. "You don't... make things HAPPEN, do you?"

"Everyone makes things "happen," silly. If people didn't do anything, nothing would happen at all." Hermione giggled and the caretaker visibly relaxed. 'Good, my strategy worked.' Yes, appearing to be nothing more than a prodigy who could "act their age sometimes" would work nicely.

"Of course, silly me. Shouldn't get worked up over nothing." Mrs. Cole tried to laugh it off as she busied herself with straightening up some paper on her desk.

'Score one for the Healer!'

"Now, we only have one bed available and that is in room twenty-seven..." She sighed. "Oh well, we'll just have to make due. Here, I need you to look this over and verify the information is correct." The brunette woman stated and handed Hermione a file.

'She trusts a child with this?' Hermione paused and mentally shook her head. 'Right, prodigy. Duh.' The Matron buying her story would make things so much easier.

Besides, Hermione had not been looking forward to trying to explain her need to find a library. Or explaining away why she would walk out of said library with as many books as they would allow her to check out... Who knew that stupid people could come in handy?

'Name: Hermione (Gamp) Wall?' She noticed the name Gamp had been marked out and replaced by the name Wall, which didn't make much sense. Her namesake's -her grandmother's- maiden name had always been Wall...

Or had it? The young witch hadn't known the First Hermione had been adopted, or had ever been in an Orphanage for that matter, so what other things were hidden in her grandmother's past?

"There seems to be a mistake... why did you mark out Gamp?" Hermione was careful as to how she phrased the question. The way it was posed could be taken more than one way. If the Matron was hiding her name, the Harpy would take it as "why are you marking out my last name" and if it was an honest mistake, the woman could admit as much.

"Well... you don't want so called "relatives" popping up out of the woodwork trying to claim you now, would you? They would only be after your money. Should people realize that the Gamp heiress is orphaned, they will come looking. It is for your own protection."

'She's lying through her teeth.' No matter. "I can take care of myself, thank you. My name shall remain unchanged. I expect you to rectify this... error." Hermione raised her hand as the Matron made to protest.

Hermione wasn't going to take no for an answer. If Fate was going to mess with her, then she was going to fuck with Fate... or the future... Whatever. She would do her best to make Fate regret ruining her life. And perhaps change the future for the better while she was at it...

"But what if someone finds you and..." Mrs. Cole questioned and snapped Hermione out of her thoughts.

"No worries, no one is going to try and adopt me if I do not wish it." She stated as she returned to reading her file.

'Age: 5... well that explains the extremely flat chest. DOB: December 31, 1926... Seeing as it's spring time, I would hazard a guess and say the year is 1931. Gender: Female... duh. Height: 37 inches... No wonder I feel so short. Weight: 35 lbs... Blood Type: Unknown. Parents: Marucias and Gwenyth Gamp...'

A light bulb went off in Hermione's head and she stared at the paper in shock.

'No family members would have come after my grandmother anyway. If any were left, they would have been magical... But the Gamp family was no longer around in the 30s. They had produced so many Squibs that the House of Gamp just faded away. Had they not died out, they would have been Pureblood wizards and wouldn't have had anything to do with the Muggle world. And seeing as my grandmother wasn't magical...'

But that brought up another conundrum. Hermione had used magic, yet her ancestor had not been magical. So how was it... Unless it was because it was her soul, her magical core, that was within the body. But then that raised the question as to where her grandmother's soul was. Surely the two souls were not the same. Her namesake had been alive when she was born...

'Too many questions and no one to ask. I'm seriously going to find a spell to track down Fate so I can have a word with her.'

*OR, you could just chat with me this evening.*

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked around the room. Yet as she gazed around the office she came to the conclusion that only she and Mrs. Cole occupied the space.

*No hon, I'm the voice inside your head.* Hermione could practically FEEL Fate roll her eyes. *You just thought about bitch slapping me a few minutes ago, do you honestly think I would physically appear before you and give you the chance? I'm not stupid.*

'Then why, pray tell, did you send me to the past to become my own grandmother? And what of her soul?' Though Hermione's questions were asked in a calm tone, it was obvious she wanted answers.

*I will explain later. I have some limitations you know, deity or no I am not "all powerful," and talking to you in the daytime is one of those pesky constraints. Here is what you do... Think about me before you go to sleep and I will meet you in the land of dreams.* And with that Fate left as suddenly as she had come.

"Are you done looking that over?" Mrs. Cole asked impatiently.

"Almost. Sorry, got sidetracked thinking about a new project..." Hermione smiled and started to read once more.

"Project?" The Matron inquired with a raised brow.

'Seems I've piqued her interest.' Hermione thought with a little grin. "Oh yes, when reading blood type it made me think about nursing. I would oh so love to be able to help people, so as a side project I'm going to seek out the local library and read up on the subject." There, not only had she made a valid excuse as to why she was "daydreaming", but she also made her desire to find a library known.

Mrs. Cole looked at the child with wide eyes and cocked her head to the side in wonder... or confusion. Could go either way.

"You want to... But..." Ah, definitely confusion.

"Not to worry. I'm sure there will be plenty of time for such things." Hermione waved it off and read the last bit of the file.

Hermione wasn't surprised to find her so called "small" Trust Fund was in fact quite large. The Matron had tried to downplay the amount, but she acted too greedy, and probably the only reason Mrs. Cole allowed the "child" to read over it is because she didn't think Hermione would understand just HOW MUCH they were talking about...

The young witch was sure to make a mental note of how much her Trust Fund really consisted of and she would be sure to keep an eye out and make sure it was, indeed, used to help the Orphanage. If not... well, unlike a "normal" child, Hermione knew her rights and would be more than happy to see justice served.

"Done!" Hermione exclaimed in a childlike manner as she handed the file back to the Matron. "Can I see my room now?" She would act like the numbers meant nothing to her, as the Harpy had hoped, and would just observe for now.

And with that they were off! To her new room and her new... life?

'Well, this is certainly going to be interesting.'

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TBC...

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A/N: So, decent start? Yes? No? Punkin? I can tell you, starting this story was hard. I hadn't a clue how I wanted to go about it. Then the other night I just started typing and WHAM, this came out. I've had this plot bunny chewing my arse for a while, so I'm happy to be at least attempting to get this out of my system.

For now though? Time for some much needed sleep ~

Next Time: Hermione gets a good look at herself and meets her new roommate...