Summary: Involuntary thrust through time over and over again, Hermione Granger keeps getting shuttled from one year to the next with only one consistency. Tom Riddle.

An: Only the prologue will be from Harry's POV the rest will be from Hermione's. As for the fic it will be loosely based on The Time Travelers Wife, very loosely. On another not I do not own that story or Harry Potter. Just the plot to this one.

Prologue: Letters to Harry

Dear Harry,

My name is Hermione Ri- Granger, and you may not remember me, but I have certainly not forgotten you. Once, we were the best of friends, as close as siblings, if you do not remember me, this letter may seem very strange to you but I need you to place any mistrust you have at the word of a stranger aside for a moment. The fate of the world may very well depend on it.

Press your wand against this parchment along with a drop of blood and all will be explained to you, for the information I have must be for your eyes alone.

Harry frowned at the yellowed parchment and placed it aside for a moment before turning to the other items in the box. Inside were vials and vials of silvery liquid he couldn't identify, a strange locket with a curling S on the front (Which he refused to touch even before seeing the little 'Do not touch' scribbled on a parchment on its chain- something felt very wrong about it.) a wand, a large pile of parchment tied together with twine, a small vial with some thick yellow substance in it (The label clearly declaring it was venom of some sort) and a glittering silver knife one of the goblins in the room eyed greedily.

"Is everything in order Mr. Potter?"

The goblin at his side asked brusquely. Harry frowned and looked down into the box at the strange pile of mishmash again. How was he supposed to know if everything was there?

"Eh… sure."

With a snap of its gnarled fingers the box and letter disappeared.

"No need for alarm Mr. Potter," the goblin drawled at his squawk of protest, "they have merely been sent to the front… with a feather light charm added for good measure."

"Couldn't you just shrink it?"

"If you wanted to damage the items inside, yes."

Harry sighed, "Never mind then."

"Will that be all?"

Harry nodded and the goblin led him out to the front desks where his parents were waiting. His father ruffled his hair as soon as he got close enough and grinned while his mother peered worriedly down at him.

"Is everything alright, dear?"

"Yeah mum, its fine."

"See Lily, I told you that you were worrying for nothing," she glared at her husband but it seemed not to dampen his spirits at all. "So Harry, what did this mysterious inheritance contain?"

"Tons of stuff, there was a locket, a bunch of old parchment, a few vials with some silvery goo inside- oh and a knife," Harry didn't mention the venom or the wand. They wouldn't let him keep the box if they knew about them (He could get away with the knife, Sirius had given him one when he had turned ten and while his mother had pitched a fit he had gotten to keep it.) He was reluctant to mention the letter as well; he wanted to finish reading it before showing it to his parents.

"Wicked!"

Lily frowned down at the two of them. "Why would someone send you something like that?"

Harry shrugged and his mother's frown deepened. "Well I think I will have to take a look through this box myself."

"Impossible," the goblin teller grunted over the large book he was scribbling away at. "The contents are for one Harry James Potter only, if any other witch or wizard tries to remove or handle the items the box is charmed to explode."

"Explode!" She declared in alarm, James looking just as stunned as his wife.

"Yes," the goblin said with relish, "explode. But young Mr. Potter should be safe handling the items, as per your instructions we checked them box for any malicious magic and found none." The goblin sounded disappointed.

"I don't like this," Lily said with a frown.

"Well if the goblin says it won't hurt the kid I say why not," James said brightly.

"You are too lenient with him James, what if something in one of those vials curses him, or makes him sick, or-"

"Harry, you know the signs of an object being cursed?"

Harry nodded.

"You know not to eat or drink anything strange without running it by your mother or I first?"

He nodded again.

"You know you don't trust anything-?"

"If I can't see how it thinks and to watch out for everything else, I know."

"Good boy," James said, patting Harry on the shoulder "Harry can handle himself Lily, and if he can't he knows to come to us. Don't forget we have a bright kid… nothing at all like me at eleven."

That made his mother smile and Harry instantly relaxed. He had won the rights to his box… for now.

"Merlin help us all if he was," she said teasingly making his father give an affronted pout. She turned her startling green eyes to her son. "I am going to trust you with this Harry. But any sign of trouble, any at all, you let us know."

Harry smiled brightly and nodded taking the offered wooden box from the disgruntled goblin behind the desk. True to their word it was light as a feather.

"Well now that that is all taken care of, let's finish our school shopping!"

The rest of the day was spent in a wild haze of stores, books, potions ingredients, brass cauldrons, and bronze scales. Only one thing kept Harry from the mindless joy he should have been experiencing on his first school shopping trip.

The fate of the world may very well depend on it.

Harry couldn't get the words out of his head and they buzzed like angry bees in his skull. Why would anyone, much less someone who claimed to know him that he knew he definitely did not know, trust an eleven year old with information that could save the world? Why not the aurors or the minister, or Albus Dumbledore? And what did it need saving from in the first place?

"Time for your wand, kiddo."

Harry grinned and forced the burning questions into the back of his mind to re-examine when he got back to his room.

Press your wand against this parchment along with a drop of blood and all will be explained to you, for the information I have must be for your eyes alone.

Chills worked their way down his spine as he entered Ollivander's and raw excitement made his heart beat faster and his hands shake. Finally, after waiting years and years, he would get his wand.

"I was wondering when I would see you Mr. Potter-"

"We will just come back tomorrow son," James said gently, gripping his son by the shoulder to provide as much comfort as he could. "You heard what old Ollivander said, you aren't his first tricky customer."

"And if we can't find you your wand here, there are always other options." His mother added.

Harry had to fight against the lump in his throat to keep his voice from breaking. "Yeah…" was all he was able to manage.

With that the Potters made their way to the floo in the Leaky Cauldron, and with a swirl of green flames they were back in Godric's Hollow. James helped Harry carry his things up to his room, cracking jokes and laughing too loudly when Harry weakly responded.

When all of his things were where he wanted it, Harry quietly asked his dad to leave. "I just want to be alone for a while."

James nodded with a sympathetic grimace and quietly backed out.

"Dinner will be in an hour, if you don't feel up to it I'm sure your mother won't mind if you take it in here."

"Thanks, dad."

With one last grin his father left Harry alone with his thoughts.

As soon as he was sure he was alone he pulled the box that had been his mind all day over. It was a simple wooden box, not flashy or extravagant, and from what the goblins had told him, had only basic preservation charms placed on it.

It was rather practical.

He opened it again and was relieved to find the letter placed on the very top. Harry read through the letter again, committing the words to memory before setting it on his pillow. Until he got his wand there was nothing he could do about the rest of the message, so he turned his attention back to the other things in the box.

He picked up the dagger first, it was light and well balanced. It was like an extension of his arm, and goblin made if he was right. His father had shown him goblin blades before in the National Wizarding Museum, and it looked similar to the ones he remembered. He set that aside as well before reaching back into the box and grabbing one of the vials of the silver liquid.

Harry held the vial close to his face and examined the swirling silver, mesmerized. He thought he could see shapes in the liquid, faces, and if he strained his ears he caught the faintest sound of whispers.

I will ask mum about it later. He decided and carefully set it back in the small rack that held it and the many others. He didn't dare touch the locket or the venom, he knew danger when he saw it, but he did curiously pick up the pile of parchment, frowning at the squirming writing on each and every page. How was he supposed to read it?

He stared at it for a solid twenty minutes trying to make out words in the wriggling letters when he finally gave up and tossed them to the end of the bed. That left only one thing left to examine, the wand. A strange thrill worked its way down his spine when he reached for it, and his heart started to pound as his fingers brushed the smooth hilt of the wand.

When he finally picked it up, for the first time in his life, he felt powerful. Wind whipped at his hair despite the fact his window was closed, everything in his room shuddered, and he couldn't take a full breath from the sheer excitement that pulsed from his body. Magic wrapped around him as if it was saying 'hello'.

This was his wand.

No doubt about it.

When the powerful feeling finally lessened he stared at it in awe. He was a wizard, now it was official. The awe quickly transferred to the mysterious Hermione Granger. How had she known which wand was his? How had she gotten it in the first place?

She said she was my friend… a close friend. She would know my wand. But how? Why? When?

There was only one way to find out.

Harry grabbed the dagger and went over to the parchment, hissing through his teeth as he stabbed his finger and let a drop of blood fall to the parchment. Then, he drew his wand and gently tapped it.

He didn't have to wait long for something to happen. The parchment rapidly expanded, writing filling every inch of space possible before finally coming to a stop. Carefully Harry picked it up, and started to read.

Oh Harry, I am so glad you decided to trust me! I know you must have questions, you always were inquisitive, but they will be explained when I tell you my story.

First, I am a time traveler. But more on that later.

Harry stared blankly at it for a very long time. If what she said was true, then it explained a lot. If this Hermione was someone he would meet in the future and befriend then it would make sense for her to know about his wand.

Or she could be an enemy trying to trick me into doing something. He thought darkly as he continued to read.

Second, as I said before, I am your friend. You may not believe me right now- you have put a lot of trust in me as it is- but it is none the less true. You can judge that for yourself later though. First I have to tell you the story of the Harry Potter I knew, a Harry Potter you may never become because of me…

Harry read the story that followed intently. The tale Hermione wove seemed more fantasy than reality, but the little facts- like about his aunt, uncle, and cousin whom no one could have associated with him and his family- and about the Weasleys (How could she have known about the flying car or the name he and Ron had given the Ghoul in the attic?)- that convinced him that she was telling the truth. She even knew some things about him he had never told anyone, not even his parents.

But there was one part of the story he didn't understand. All through it she mentioned a Dark Lord, but if he remembered correctly the last Dark Lord was put in prison over fifty years ago. …he is clever Harry, and that is my fault too. If not for me he would have gone insane a long time ago. But he would have also killed your parents, I didn't want you to live your life without them, not while there was something I could do.

The Dark Lord has not started any open warfare in your time yet, but his influence is everywhere. He will take over slowly, and by the time everyone realizes it I fear it will be too late for our world.

I can't stop him, not on my own, I need help and you are the only one I know who can... the only one who will. You are one of the few people I know who will do the right thing despite all the pressure against you.

I don't expect you to believe me, even as I write it down this entire story seems ridiculous. So I am going to offer you proof. All the vials with the silver liquid inside the box are memories, all of my memories from the time this whole mess started. In the beginning I used them as a sort of diary for myself to keep track of the timeline, so To- so I couldn't be tricked.

I give it to you now Harry to prove my honesty. If you choose to help me, then I will be waiting for you in the Room of Hidden Things at Hogwarts this year on Halloween night.

If you don't know where that is, you will soon. My memories will be your guide and I daresay you will understand everything there is to know about Hogwarts by the end. Even without Mischief Being Managed.

If he didn't trust her before he certainly did now. Only Remus, Sirius, Peter, and his Dad knew about the map.

You will need a pensieve Harry, just dump the memories inside it and then dive in…

After that, it is all up to you.

Despite what you choose, always know I will look out for you when I can. You will always be my friend Harry, always.

Yours,

Hermione Granger

Ps: Do not touch that locket until AFTER you view the memories. It is VERY dangerous.

Harry peered into the box again. So that is what a memory looks like. Sirius had said he was going to show Harry how to extract them after he had gotten his wand.

As soon as he got his Hogwarts letter Sirius instantly had went out and bought him a pensieve. 'A pensieve for a pensive boy.' Sirius had declared when he had bestowed it upon Harry, 'You are much too somber for a boy your age, perhaps if we extract some of those memories you will be a bit more carefree.'

Harry had never actually expected to find any use from the gift (Sirius was rather forgetful) and had stashed it under the bed. Excited he now dragged it out and wiped away the dust that had accumulated inside the bowl.

When it was clean enough he reached up and gently pulled the box down to him and took out the large rack that held the memories. Each vial was clearly labeled with a date and time and Harry sorted through it until he found the one labeled 'First'

He carefully uncorked it and poured it into the pensieve. The silver memory glowed brightly and he saw flashes of people, places, and things he had never seen before…. He even saw himself, but an older version of himself.

Without hesitation Harry reached out and touched the swirling memories, not flinching as he was pulled deep into the memory of a stranger.