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The Thief of Time	By : FifteenStitches Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Sirius/Hermione Views: 4400 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Rowling or the Harry Potter franchise, and I make no profit from the writing/posting of this story.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, and there is no profit gained or involved here.
Thank you to Ero Sennin for the lovely review! I'm glad you enjoyed it! If anyone wants to be on a mailing list to receive notifications of when I update, just send me your email addy.
Thank you to my wonderful beta and brit-picker, Lady Lynn, for turning my mess of words into a decipherable story. She pointed out that Hogwarts letters go out in July, but for the sake of this story, I've changed it to the child's eleventh birthday.
The Thief of Time
I: Of Dreams and Awakenings
by
TinkWolfe
"As if you could kill time without injuring eternity." - Henry David Thoreau
Hermione opened her watery eyes and blinked away her tears. That was, by far, the oddest, most emotional dream she had ever had. Her body was still half asleep, and she found she couldn't move very well since lethargy was currently weighing down her limbs. She squinted in the morning light, still trying to focus her tired eyes. Her fingers twitched while she adjusted to her wakefulness, and she fully intended on Flooing Harry once she got out of bed, just to make sure he was okay. She never invested too much thought in Divination and all that rubbish, but she would rather be safe than sorry.
With a heavy sigh, Hermione concluded that she had better shake herself out of this early morning stupor and get out of bed. Rose and Hugo would probably be bounding into the bedroom at any moment to demand their breakfast. She also had to wake Ron up early so he could shower and eat before that damned early morning Auror meeting. Hermione smiled in her sleepy state, already knowing that Ron would beg for ten more minutes when she woke him up. He was still a bit childish in that way, but it was so reminiscent of their Hogwarts days that she couldn't be annoyed with him. She had shared her first kiss with Ron the night of the final battle, and they had been together ever since. Now, twenty-two years later, they were still going strong.
Alright, maybe strong was laying it on thick. They bickered a lot, much like they had in their school days, and if she was honest with herself, she always wondered if they stayed together all this time just because they were best friends and it was what was expected of them. It didn't matter anyway, because they had been friends since they were twelve and they had two beautiful children together. They loved each other, even though it was a different kind of love than others had. One only they could understand. Everything had worked out in the end.
Hermione's heart still mourned for Harry, though, and all he had to lose and endure. All the lives lost in the war because of that crazy bastard. It still made her blood boil beneath her skin. Sometimes Hermione would catch herself getting lost in her thoughts at her desk job at the Ministry, imagining a different world. One where Voldemort been destroyed before Lily Potter became pregnant. She had a feeling she wasn't the only one, for she would often catch Harry staring off into space, and she just knew that that was what he was thinking about.
Oh, right, she had to Floo Harry. No doubt her daydreams had leaked into night and created that odd dream, but just to be sure, she had to get going if she was going to get everything done.
Hermione gave a great stretch that reminded her of her darling Crookshanks. She hadn't seen him since she left the Burrow those twenty-two years ago when Death Eaters raided Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He had been nearly thirty when she first got him in her third year. With his squashed face and orange fur, Crooks was the most beautiful creature she had ever laid her eyes on, even if no one else agreed. He was part Kneazle, so he lived outstandingly longer than a normal cat, and he had an all-knowing stare when someone was doing something wrong. The only one who had really appreciated the cat besides Hermione, before the Pettigrew incident at least, was Sirius Black. Her little Crooks had been friends with him the whole time he was at Hogwarts, and she had to bite back a sad smile. He had lasted so long, and she thought that he had at least another decade in him. It seemed, however, that his old body had given up when his Mistress departed for war. Magical pets have bonds with their owners that no one else can come between. To this day, tears still filled Hermione's eyes when she thought about her lost familiar.
She shook herself out of her funk, however, determined not to start the day with tears. After a yawn, she rolled over in her king-size bed to shake Ron awake.
But after a little more than half a roll, Hermione fell face first onto the floor.
"What in the bloody hell...?" she mumbled to no one in particular, lifting her face off the mint green carpet. Ron's colourful vocabulary had rubbed off on her over the years in these kinds of situations.
Wait, mint green carpet? Where were her beautifully waxed hardwood floors? Hermione lifted herself onto her knees and moved her eyes to the bed. Ron was nowhere to be seen, and she was in a room she had never been in before. The bed she had been laying in was no bigger than Rose's, and it reminded her of a gothic princess' bed. Four-poster dark wood with hanging, soft pink drapes that went quite nicely with the soft mint green carpet, although Hermione never would've expected that colour combination to work. The blankets seemed to be soft pink and green velvet, and lining the pink walls were shelves of stuffed animals. There was also a thin wallpaper border around the top and bottom of the walls, and if she looked closely, she could see the pattern of lilies and roses. Not just any roses. Hermione Roses. She turned her head to glance at the other side of the room and spotted another bed, exactly like hers only the colours were opposite. Where Hermione's held pink curtains and pink on green covers, the other held mint green curtains and green on pink covers. It was then that Hermione noticed someone else was occupying the room with her.
Hermione stood up and looked around for her wand, now thoroughly agitated. She had survived a war after all, and no matter how much time passed, that paranoia never left her. Her magical conduit was nowhere in sight, and Hermione started to panic. After a few deep breaths, she tried to figure out what could have logically happened while she slept. Was she kidnapped? She doubted it, this seemed more like a little girl's room than a cell. Had she Disapparated unintentionally and wandlessly while she slept due to her stressful dream? That could actually happen, she thought, if one was powerful enough and put in enough danger. She hadn't really heard of any cases where it happened, but that didn't rule it out.
She jumped up when the person in the other bed started to stir. Hermione could only stand there frozen, barefoot on the surprisingly soft green carpet. The girl in the other bed stretched and swung her legs over the side of her bed, wiggling her toes while she rubbed her eyes.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. It was only her Goddaughter, Lily Potter. She could tell by the red hair and porcelain skin.
Of course, Hermione thought with a roll of her eyes. She must have Apparated to Harry's in her sleep when she had that dream about him. But when had they redecorated Lily's room?
"Lily," Hermione said, and was a bit surprised when Lily didn't look nonplussed that her aunt was in her bedroom. "Where's your Mummy and Daddy?" Hermione asked, in a voice one would use to talk to a child.
Lily gave her an odd look and stood up, shrugging her shoulders. "Downstairs, I guess? We're going to the park today with Tuney so you better get dressed."
Who the hell is Tuney? Hermione thought, perplexed.
She made her way to the door, ready to go downstairs to tell Harry and Ginny about her crazy dream and the even crazier event that followed, when Hermione stopped in her tracks. She walked right past whom she thought was her niece, Lily, but there were differences. Her hair wasn't the trademark orange-red Weasley hair. Instead it was a deep, true red, like a crayon colour, and it was remarkably beautiful. There were no freckles on her skin like there should be, and her eyes were still Harry's colour, but they were more Harry's almond shape than Ginny's big round eyes.
This wasn't her Goddaughter.
But the most confusing part of all was that the girl who used to come up to Hermione's elbow was now the same size as her.
Or was Hermione the same size as the girl?
It was then that Hermione looked down at herself, and she stumbled backwards in horror.
Where the fuck were her breasts? Why was she so tiny? Why was she wearing Scooby Doo pyjamas? What in Merlin's name was going on? Did that dream really happen? Had she lost her mind? The dream was impossible, there was no way Harry would put Hermione in this position. No, there was a more logical explanation; there had to be.
She needed to calm herself down before she hyperventilated.
"Lily," she tried again, cautiously. Again, the girl responded to the name. "What's my name?"
Again, the girl named Lily gave her a look that clearly said she was out of her bogging mind. The child could have been no more than ten but the look was effective and Hermione had to give her a sheepish smile.
"Hermione Evans," Lily answered with a curious stare.
Hermione's blood ran cold and her throat tightened.
No, no. Harry wouldn't do this to her. She had a life. A husband. Children. She was forty years old for Merlin's sake! Would he really be this selfish?
"Are you okay, Mione?"
Hermione couldn't answer. No words would come out of her mouth. All she could do was shake her head back and forth and mouth silently, like a fish.
"Mum! Dad!" Lily yelled, still staring at Hermione with concerned green eyes, identical to Harry's.
"Yes?" two muffled voices called from downstairs.
"Mummy, Daddy!" she yelled louder. "I think something's wrong with Hermione!"
The unmistakeable sound of feet pounding up steps echoed through the house, and Hermione did the only thing she could think of to do in the current situation she had found herself in.
She screamed, yanked open the door, and ran out of the room.
Ten minutes later, Hermione had locked herself in the upstairs bathroom after a man and a woman had chased her around the house, demanding to know what was wrong with "their little Mione."
She couldn't stop crying, and the voices outside the door were only making it worse. Couldn't they just leave her alone for a bit and let her sob it out? Of course, they didn't know what was going on. She was just their little girl to them.
Hermione didn't know if she was horrified, livid, or manic depressive. There was a large possibility she had become all three. She just couldn't stop thinking about everything Harry had screwed up, and really, who could blame her? Her children were no more. Rose and Hugo would never come into existence. If her calculations were correct (and they usually were), she and Lily Evans were close in age, so that would make her at least twenty by the time Ronald was born. Hermione had always felt decades older than Ron anyway, but now it would be real.
The logical, annoying part of her brain - the part that was always showing the other side of the argument - said that Rose and Hugo were possibly better off. Ron would have them with another woman, one who he wasn't constantly fighting with... But still, they were all she had. She had lost Harry and Ron, her soulmates. How could she survive this without them?
She wanted to hate Harry. She wanted to loathe him and curse his name. But, she found she couldn't. Because as horrible as this position was, he had done it because of that damned hero complex. He gave up all he loved too, in the hopes that all those lives could be saved. Harry had traded it all for them. Her and Ron, his wife, his children. Hermione knew he would have put himself here if he could have, but Hermione was the only choice. If Hermione Granger had never come into existence, the wizarding world wouldn't miss her. And, logically, they would all still have one another this way, Hermione would just be quite a bit older. Harry had always said he felt like she was another mother.
Harry and Ron would never have made it out alive in their first year, but Harry put Hermione here in the hopes that it wouldn't come to that. Admittedly, she was the only one who could pull this off. She had been told on numerous occasions that her intellect rivalled Albus Dumbledore's. She knew where all the Horcruxes would be. She knew all of Voldemort's dirty little secrets. Hermione had been performing magic far beyond her years all her life, and now, twenty-two years after the war, her intellect was stronger than ever.
"Hermione, please come out," a man's voice called over the girls, sounding as if he was pressed against the door. "You're worrying your mother and I. Are you hurt?"
Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes on her Scooby Doo pyjamas and cringed. She wasn't sure if it was because of the worry in the man's voice or the fact that she was acting like the body she was in instead of thinking with the mind she held.
"No, Daddy," she said with a grimace. She was going to have to act the part well. "I just had a bad dream. I'm sorry, I'll be out in a few minutes."
There was hesitation on the other side, but after a moment he agreed. "Okay, Pumpkin. Mommy and Daddy are right outside if you need us."
Hermione rolled her eyes and walked over to the sink to splash her face with cold water. She had been avoiding the mirror that whole time, but when she looked up after wetting her face, she could ignore it no longer. She was definitely around ten, and her cheeks were a little plump with baby fat. She didn't look exactly how she remembered herself when she was ten, but that was no doubt due to being an Evans now instead of a Granger.
Mum and Dad... The Grangers would never have Hermione. Perhaps it was a blessing with the hell they went through after Hermione found out she was a witch. They were proud of her, of course, but constantly worrying. Although they had never said it, Hermione knew they were bemused with the idea of magic. And then, when she was eighteen, she had modified their memories to protect them. Afterwards, when they were safe again, she went back and corrected it. They hadn't spoken to her after that, and Hermione couldn't blame them. She hadn't even asked, she had just taken away their identities with a few whispered incantations while they slept. It was worth it, though, even if she had lost contact with them. At least they were alive and well and not subjected to Bellatrix's torture - the thought of which still made Hermione shudder. That night at Malfoy Manor still haunted her nightmares. Hermione managed to lie, even while she was tortured, Ron's sobs from below, Dobby dying in Harry's arms...
She had been bred for war since she was eleven years old and had long since been an outstanding veteran. The Chosen One, Golden Granger, Wonderful Weasley. The Trio hated those names, but dealt with them since those were the headlines splashed across the Prophet. She had twenty-nine years of experience in the magical world, most of which were spent overcoming what was claimed to be impossible. And here, staring back at her through the mirror, was a ten-year-old girl she didn't know. Her hair was still brown, but she noticed it wasn't a dull colour. When she turned her head from side to side, her hair picked up the light and subtle highlights of reds would appear. It was no longer bushy, instead as sleek as Lily's. Her eyes, once brown -- she had to take a deep breath to keep herself from getting light headed -- were now Harry's exact almond shape and startling shade of green. In fact, now that Hermione examined her reflection closely, she and Lily looked like each other quite a bit, yet Hermione still resembled her old self, with minor changes such as eyes and hair, and skin that seemed a bit more pale than she remembered.
As a second thought, she parted her pouty lips and examined her teeth.
They were perfect rows of pearly white, no buck teeth in sight.
Thank Merlin for small favours.
She was content in the knowledge that her looks hadn't changed drastically. In fact, they were all little traits Hermione had always secretly wished she possessed. Her body hadn't matured yet, which reminded her just how warped this whole situation was. Her mind had forty years of jaded experience while her body was just about only a decade old.
But, she could do this. She could save them all. Harry wished it, and when had Hermione ever denied him anything? Her heart still ached for all she had lost, but there was nothing she could do about it. The only thing she could do was ensure that the children of the next generation could live without fear. Selflessness was the Trio's biggest strength, but also their biggest weakness. Her old life had been traded, albeit unwillingly, so the lives of the all the good men and women lost in the war could have a second chance, and who was she to deny them that just because of her selfish heartache? This was her chance to save them. She could do so much good for the wizarding world.
And I will, she thought determinedly.
For a horrifying moment, however, she wondered if she even still had her magic. She had no wand, but she had become quite proficient in doing small spells with wandless magic. In a vain attempt to know, she pointed her finger at a toothbrush resting by the sink.
"Wingardium Leviosa," she murmured, and her stomach did flip-flops as it rose in the air.
"Finite." The toothbrush dropped back down to the sink and Hermione took a deep breath. Hogwarts was going to be hard to do all over again, especially since she already knew the entire curriculum backwards and forwards, and could most likely do it all blind-folded and non-verbally.
"Hermione?" a woman's voice called from the other side of the door, and Hermione wondered just how long she had been in this bathroom. She took a moment to look at the room she had occupied without really seeing it. Dark reds, creams, browns, and blacks. Vaguely, she wondered if all the rooms in this house were colour coordinated.
"Coming," Hermione answered, and took one last look at her young, altered reflection.
No sooner had she unlocked the door and turned the knob did she feel arms around her. A strong grip lifted her up and she was distantly reminded of Grawp, although this man was much smaller and definitely more handsome. He had blond hair and pale eyes, not unlike Draco Malfoy. However, while Draco's face had always been twisted into an arrogant mask, this man's expression was welcoming and his icy grey eyes were friendly and concerned.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" he asked, and before Hermione had a chance to answer, a woman put her hand on her back. Hermione turned her head and raised her eyebrows. The woman was beautiful, with soft porcelain skin and silky hair. Hermione couldn't tell if her hair was brown or deep red, because it looked different from every angle. Her eyes were the same almond shaped emeralds that Hermione now had, and the woman's full lips were smiling in concern.
"Everything alright, honey?" she nearly echoed her husband, and Hermione nodded, still not quite sure how to talk to these people.
"It was just a bad dream," she said quietly.
Too bad she was never going to wake up from it.
"Do you want to talk about it?" the man -- her father, she corrected herself-- asked.
"No, thank you," she answered right away, and her father nodded and kissed her forehead.
"Well, everything's alright now. Daddy won't let anything hurt you."
Hermione couldn't help the stab of jealousy she felt when he said that. Her real father had never comforted her like that when she was growing up. Hermione had been an only child, one that her parents invested a lot in. Logic over imagination, he would say. Dreams are just imaginary manifestations of the desires or fears of your subconscious.
Well, technically, he wasn't her father anymore. This man holding her was.
This whole situation was bloody weird.
"Can we have breakfast now so we can go to the park?" a little girl's voice asked, and Hermione assumed it to be Lily.
Lily was still standing quietly, however, watching Hermione as if trying to figure out if she was really okay. The voice had come from a taller girl standing next to Lily. She was blonde and boney, with a rather horsey face and a long neck. Her eyes were pale, and Hermione could tell she got the more masculine genes, as well as her Father's looks. This must be Harry's Aunt Petunia.
Tuney's taking us to the park today, Lily had said. Yes, it was definitely Petunia Dursley... Er, Evans, that is.
She didn't seem mean, not at all like she had been described by Harry. In fact, she looked like she was trying to cheer Hermione up by mentioning the park.
"Oh, that's right, Robert," the woman said. "Tuney's taking the twins to the park this afternoon."
Well, her new father's name was Robert Evans. It had a nice ring to it.
Wait, what twins?
Hermione's head snapped over to Lily, and suddenly their resemblance was explained. They must be fraternal twins.
This situation just kept getting weirder and weirder.
"Lift me too, Daddy!" Lily finally spoke with a giggle, and Hermione had to admire the man's strength when he held Hermione in one arm and lifted Lily with the other. He must've had a lot of practice carrying the two ten-year-old girls around since he brought them down the stairs with ease. She would've given him praise if that wouldn't have raised a red flag. Somehow, Kudos on being able to carry two ten-year-olds down the stairs at your age, Rob, I could barely lift my son once he turned eight, didn't seem like an appropriate thing to hear coming from one of said ten-year-old daughters.
As the two girls were carried into the kitchen, Lily gave Hermione a smile, and Hermione smiled back.
She was the twin sister to Lily Evans.
She felt like she had fallen into that Muggle program on the telly, The Twilight Zone.
A glance over at the calendar told her it was November thirteenth, nineteen-seventy. That made her and Lily two months away from being eleven.
They hadn't gotten their letters yet.
Petunia followed behind and sat at the table with the girls, while Robert Evans sorted through the mail. He made two piles, most likely one for him and one for his wife. Subtly, Hermione glanced over at the other pile.
Mrs. Ivy Evans was printed clearly on a magazine, and Hermione had to admit that it was a beautiful name. Everything about the woman seemed beautiful so far, outside as well as in, especially when it came to concern for her family. She glanced around the yellow, white and black kitchen. This whole scene seemed picture-perfect. They sat around a round, vintage kitchen table, with Lily on one side of Hermione and Robert Evans on the other. Lily was wearing Scooby Doo pyjamas identical to Hermione's. Robert wore grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Petunia had on what looked like a pink nightgown with Bugs Bunny patterned all over it. Ivy Evans wore a long, baggy black robe that was more than likely Robert's, judging by the length of it. When the shoulder would slip down, Hermione would catch a glimpse of a baggy Rolling Stones t-shirt. She had to stifle a grin. The Evans' didn't seem so bad after all.
"Don't you think it's getting too cold for the girls to go to the park?" Robert asked his wife over his tea, and Lily and Petunia looked up from their plates like he had just said he ran over a box of puppies and was planning on giving it to them for Christmas.
"No, the forecast said it was going to be warm today, it's not until the end of the month that it'll start getting cold. They're predicting a snowy December, so best let the girls enjoy it while they can, before next month brings the blizzards," she answered, putting extra syrup on Hermione's pancakes. Hermione was quite grateful, for she was never able to eat pancakes unless they were covered in syrup.
As soon as she started to chew, Hermione's eyes went wide and she glanced up at Ivy. "These are delicious," she said, and they were. Better than Mrs. Weasley's, and that's saying something. The rest of the table nodded along to Hermione's praise, echoing her words with full mouths. Apparently Ivy Evans wasn't used to praise for a simple breakfast for her family, after all, what devoted mother wasn't taken for granted by her children, and she smiled delightedly.
"Well, there's more where that came from, so eat up. You've got a big day today at the park."
Hermione had to stifle a groan. Lily and Petunia were unfazed by their mother's condescending tone, but Hermione had a feeling it was going to keep grating on her nerves. She had to remind herself that technically, in her... parents eyes, they were talking to children. Hermione was definitely guilty of talking to Rose and Hugo that way, so she couldn't object, especially since she shouldn't even be noticing the fact that they weren't talking to her like an adult. Hermione's body had a while before it even hit puberty.
These were going to be a long couple of years.
A few hours later, after Hermione had bathed and dressed, and her sisters- she wondered if she would ever get used to calling them that- had done the same, she waited for them downstairs. Hermione had been avoiding Lily like the plague. That girl was far too perceptive for one so young, and Hermione needed to get used to the house and the way of things around here before she would be comfortable pulling this off. It turned out all the rooms were colour coordinated. She had spent her time here so far wandering around, examining every nook and pulling out every drawer. Lily had caught her a few times, even going so far as to ask if Hermione was mad at her and asking why she didn't want to play. Thankfully Hermione had been able to ward her off by saying she just didn't feel too good today, and Lily seemed satisfied.
Now, she stood in the lounge, awaiting her sisters. She really wasn't looking forward to this, especially if they brought up something that she should know about. Hermione would have to work her away around it so they didn't become suspicious.
Hermione pushed her hair out of her face, getting a little annoyed now because she was starting to sweat in this jumper, when her Father spoke from behind her.
"Are you sure you're okay, love?"
She nearly jumped out of her Mary Jane shoes, but managed to compose herself. Turning slowly on her heels, Hermione faced him. He was sitting on the black velvet sofa, with his brows furrowed in concern. The telly across from them was on, but muted. The thick, dark red carpet must have kept his footsteps silent, for she had impeccable, war-trained hearing.
"Yes, Daddy," Hermione answered, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
He nodded, content, and patted the seat on the sofa beside him. Hermione hesitated for only a moment before she obliged, sitting down daintily. He would have none of that, though, and he put his arm around her and hugged her to his side.
"I hope you weren't crying this morning because you think you're strange, Hermione," Robert said, looking down at her. "I know Lily was crying the other night over it, too, but you have nothing to worry about. You and Lily are special."
Finally, Hermione caught on. Robert and Lily must have witnessed both of them doing magic and thought that Hermione was upset about her abilities. It was actually a good alibi to run with. So, run with it she did.
"So you don't think I'm a... freak?" she asked timidly, quite certain she deserved an Academy Award for this performance.
Robert Evans frowned, looking upset that she would ever think that of him. "Of course not, Hermione. You and Lily have gifts. Your mother and I are proud to have such talented daughters. Don't you ever think any differently," he said, and Hermione had to resist the urge to giggle uncharacteristically at his stern voice and serious expression.
They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps running down the stairs and Lily came bursting into the room, immediately leaping onto both Hermione and her Father. Petunia was next, landing on top of the pile. Hermione couldn't help but join in laughing at the overall silliness. Next thing she knew, Petunia grabbed Lily's hand and Lily grabbed Hermione's hand, and they formed a chain as they stood up from the couch. Robert patted the back pocket of the charcoal slacks he was now wearing and pulled out his wallet. The three girls each got a crisp five pound note and were told to go wild with it, and get as much candy as their tummies could handle. At first, Hermione was bemused since five pounds wouldn't get much, but then reminded herself that it was nineteen-seventy, and five quid went a long way.
"Remember," Ivy said after she joined in the goodbyes, looking pointedly at Hermione and Lily. "No using your talents in front of people, alright?"
Hermione and Lily shared a glance before they spoke in unison. "Yes, Mummy!" She was vaguely reminded of Fred and George Weasley before, by chain reaction, she was pulled from the lounge. After saying goodbye to their parents, and getting a sixth warning about not talking to strangers, the Evans sisters left the house.
While they walked and talked, Hermione committed the neighbourhood to her memory so she would know her way around. It was nice around this area, and Hermione didn't feel like she was in danger here. Petunia and Lily waved to certain neighbours as they passed, and Hermione followed along, greeting people when necessary. For November, it was surprisingly warm. It wasn't very windy and the sun was strong. Only when the breeze blew was she reminded that winter was coming, but she found the chilled wind was a pleasure after sweating from the walk. Thankfully, conversation focused around going to the park and what they were going to do there, so Hermione was able to skirt around the giant pink dragon that was everywhere, reminding her that she wasn't from this time.
When they finally reached the park, Lily and Petunia each grabbed one of Hermione’s hands and headed for the swings, forcing Hermione to run to keep up with them.
"This will cheer you up," Petunia said, matter-of-factly, and Lily nodded along. All three girls sat on their separate swings, and Hermione played along. There was something that struck a chord in her; how close these sister's were. It was something she had never had growing up, and this time around she planned on taking advantage of it. She was doing it all wrong, alienating herself from them in the hopes that they'd stay away. They were too close, and trying to stay away from them only made them more concerned for her. Hermione decided at that moment that she would take advantage of having siblings, and pushed herself with her feet into a swinging motion.
Petunia and Lily laughed and tried to catch up with Hermione's swinging, and Hermione found that this wasn't so hard after all. She thought it would be miserable pretending to be a child, but honestly, when had she ever been a child before? When she grew up with the Grangers', she was a nerdy little girl with no friends who preferred to read rather than play, and when she got to Hogwarts, she was thrust into danger. Maybe this was fate's way of making it up to her.
So, she laughed and swung higher.
"Mione!" Lily called as they swung past each other.
"Yeah, Lils?" she asked, adopting the nickname she had heard Petunia calling her. All the girls were swinging quite high now, and Petunia was looking over at them curiously.
"Lets fly!" she said excitedly, and Hermione widened her eyes. Did she mean use magic?
"No, don't do it!" Petunia shrieked, and Hermione's question was answered.
"Ready?" asked Lily. "On the count of three! One..." Hermione was torn. She was told not to and if anyone saw it would mean that the Ministry would have to come down here and Obliviate some Muggles, but Lily said it with such confidence that Hermione could tell that they had done this before. To not do it would raise suspicion in Lily, since the two of them obviously did everything together. "Two..." It wasn't the idea of breaking rules (for she had broken both rules and laws with Harry and Ron), it was just the repercussions that could happen if they were seen. But, then again, Hermione wasn't supposed to know about the repercussions. In the end, she decided to just go with it.
"Three!" She felt Lily's hand grab hers as they swung forward and quite literally flew out of their seats. Hermione knew that Lily was doing it by just sheer will, but Hermione had learned to harness her magic, so she was forced to use a silent incantation. Magic the way Lily was doing it was dangerous and unpredictable. She could seriously hurt herself one of these days, but Hermione wouldn't let that happen if she could help it. Both girls hovered in the air a little too long, and landed a little too lightly.
"Mummy told you not to!" Petunia said, stopping her swing and heading over to the pair. "Mummy said you two weren't allowed!"
Hermione actually felt bad, because she could recognize the signs of concern in Petunia's eyes.
"But we're fine." Lily was undeterred in her childish naïveté and picked up a flower. "Tuney, look at this. Watch what we can do."
Both Petunia and Hermione glanced around, making sure no one could see. The flower opened and closed like an oyster in the palm of Lily's hand, and her green eyes met Hermione's expectantly. With an inaudible sigh, Hermione held her index finger up and made a twirling motion, and the flower floated above Lily's hand and did a graceful spin in mid-air. Lily went to snatch it, but Hermione made it jump away. Lily laughed and hopped around, trying to catch it between her palms.
It wasn't until Petunia shrieked, "Stop it!" that Hermione finally let the flower drop to the floor. Lily looked disappointed and moved over next to Hermione, linking her arm in hers.
"It wasn't hurting you, Tuney," she said.
"It's not right," said Petunia, but Hermione could see the wonder in her eyes. "How do you do it?" she added, and there was definitely longing in her voice. Hermione felt a pang in her heart for her sister, knowing that she probably felt left out. Hermione was quite acquainted with that feeling. It wasn't until afterwards did she notice she had referred to Petunia Evans as her sister in her head.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" a voice said, and Hermione whipped around. Petunia shrieked and ran off towards the swings, but Hermione and Lily stood their ground. This suddenly felt like deja-vu. Hermione was sure that Harry had told her about this exact moment once, in Snape's memories, although Hermione hadn't been a part of it. Sure enough, a ten-year-old Severus Snape had popped out of the bushes, and Hermione felt the pity Harry must have felt when she saw his clothes, what with the large jacket he wore despite the heat from the sun, just to hide the shirt beneath it.
"What's obvious?" asked Hermione.
He looked excited, and gave a nervous glance over to where Petunia stood by the swings. "I know what you two are."
"What do you mean?" asked Lily and Hermione at the same time.
"You're... you're witches," whispered Snape.
Hermione had to bite back a smile when Lily said, "That's not a very nice thing to say to somebody."
She had to go along with it, for she shouldn't know about witches and wizards and such, so Hermione walked back over to the swings with Lily.
"No!" said Snape. He looked quite overheated, and Hermione could see the sweat on his forehead when he ran over to them. "You are," he said to Hermione and Lily. It was such a wake-up call, seeing Severus Snape like this. A little skinny boy who was just eager for friends. "You two are witches. But there's nothing wrong with that. My mum's one, and I'm a wizard."
Hermione opened her mouth, but Petunia's laugh cut her off.
"Wizard!" she shrieked. "I know who you are. You're that Snape boy! They live down Spinner's End by the river," Petunia said, looking over at her sisters. She made it obvious that Spinner's End wasn't a pleasant place by her tone. "Why have you been spying on us?"
Lily glanced at Hermione, and Hermione shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, as if to say Let Petunia handle it. Lily seemed to understand the message, which must be a benefit of being twins, and both girls watched as Snape and Petunia talked in rude tones.
"Haven't been spying," he said, and Hermione heard the defensive way he said it. He most definitely had been spying. It saddened her to know that he had to resort to watching kids instead of playing with them. He definitely had a hard life, judging by his clothes and dirty hair. "Wouldn't spy on you, anyway," he added, in a mean tone, "you're a Muggle."
"C'mon Mione, Lily, we're leaving!" she said shrilly. Lily obeyed at once and Hermione followed her twin, but when she glanced back at Snape she could see the disappointment written all over his face. So, discreetly, she waved goodbye to him when he caught her eyes.
He smiled.
She couldn't quite believe that he was capable of such an act, even though it was childish of her to think so. When she was a student, they had only seen what he wanted them to see. He really was an amazing spy, always keeping everyone guessing.
The months passed by and this new life was surprisingly easy to get used to. Hermione learned that the Evans family were all very close, and loved and protected one another fiercely. The girls rarely argued with one another, and when they did it was settled fairly easily. Hermione found it more simple than she first assumed to connect with Lily. There was definitely a bond there that only twins could have, and Hermione found that most of the time she just knew what Lily wanted to say with just a look. She really was an intelligent girl for one so young, and Hermione would catch herself reverting to her childish self when she was around her sisters. She and Lily had to go to a Muggle primary school during the weekdays, but it wasn't as annoying as Hermione had it pegged to be. Hermione set herself at Lily's pace, so she didn't come off too bright for one so young. Luckily, Lily was gifted when it came to the subjects their teachers taught and she picked it up quickly, excelling at everything, much like Hermione when she was that age. Well, technically, she was that age again, but her mind was just as she had left it in her own time. Since Lily was exceptionally smart, Hermione was free to breeze through her subjects with ease. She'd even show off once in a while, just to spice it up a little.
Her first Christmas holiday as an Evans came and went. The family went and picked out a tree which Robert actually had to chop down, and they all decorated it together. The girls even went outside to help their father decorate the house with lights, garland and lawn ornaments one evening. The girls mainly tossed snowballs at one another and made snow angels while Robert moved to the roof above the ground floor to put lights on the first story windows and decorate the short roof with a Santa and reindeer that lit up. They really went all out for Christmas, and Hermione loved every minute of it. It was such a relief to have no worries, and to just enjoy everything. She had missed out on so much as a child without realising it.
Hermione, Lily, and Petunia baked a lot with Ivy as well, and Hermione committed the recipes to memory; homemade treats such as cookies of every kind you can imagine: gingerbread houses, fudge, red velvet, cheesecakes, and cinnamon buns with extra frosting. Sometimes the girls would just watch their mother cook, eating veggies and snacking on whatever she was making. Ivy was so precise that she made cooking an art form, and Hermione understood why Lily had been so good at Potions.
They hadn't seen Snape since that incident at the park, but Hermione knew it would only be a matter of time. The Evans all went Christmas shopping together, and the girls were given a few notes when they entered the mall to buy presents for each other. That had always been Hermione's favourite part about Christmas; buying gifts for others. Lily and Hermione put their money together to get their father a jumper and their mother a set of beautiful leather gloves. When the pair of girls passed a jewellery counter, they stopped to admire it. After fifteen minutes of browsing, they decided on getting Petunia a beautiful silver necklace with a single pink, floating, freshwater pearl. It really was stunning, and Hermione was surprised it wasn't more expensive.
"Look, Hermione!" Lily pointed excitedly towards something behind the glass, and Hermione followed her hand to see. On a bed of velvet sat two matching silver lockets in the shape of hearts. There was a green gem in both, and Hermione noticed in that light the gem looked to be the exact shade of their eyes. "We should get them for us," Lily said quietly, and Hermione silently agreed. They had just enough, and the two girls left the store with their new lockets around their necks. When they got home, they each filled up one side of their lockets with a picture of their twin, and late that night, they agreed that they would never take them off.
Christmas passed and the girls got new clothes and board games, and Hermione was pleased that they hadn't gotten them any toys. Petunia loved her necklace and immediately put it on, and Robert had insisted on wearing the jumper over his pyjamas. Hermione couldn't tear the smile off of her face that day no matter how hard she tried. Petunia had bought the girls beautiful journals, and Hermione decided not to start writing in hers until she started Hogwarts.
Finally, January thirtieth came, and Hermione woke up before the sun had even fully risen. Today was Lily's eleventh birthday, and hers, she thought bemusedly, and they would be receiving their letters today. Of course, Lily didn't know that, and Hermione had found it surprisingly hard not to tell her these past few days. Despite the age gap of their minds, she had a connection with Lily, and Hermione was quite sure that Lily would be fully mentally matured in just a few years, if all the rumours about her were true. Ivy and Petunia had stayed up late last night, when Hermione and Lily were supposed to be sleeping, to bake them a cake. Of course, the girls knew, but they didn't spoil the surprise. She couldn't wait any longer, she had to go downstairs to wait for the owl. She felt very much like a child in the moment, letting her excitement keep her from sleeping, but since the sun was already mostly risen she figured she had nothing to lose.
Silently, she slipped out of bed, but Lily must have sensed her twin's excitement because she sat up and grinned sleepily.
"Happy birthday, Hermione," she said, sliding out of bed. They both wore matching black pyjamas, and their silver lockets shone in the early morning light streaming in their window.
"Happy birthday, Lily," Hermione replied, and they both silently decided to go wake Petunia up. Hermione knew they had come to that decision when both their eyes travelled through their open door and landed on Petunia's door. A minute later, they were both jumping on Petunia's bed so she'd wake. When she finally awoke, albeit grumpily, she followed them to Robert and Ivy's room. Hermione raised her hand to knock, because she did not want to interrupt anything, but Lily and Petunia had no such hesitations. They swung the door open and Hermione was immensely pleased to see that their parents were both fully clothed and sleeping. It would've been a horrible birthday present if they had been engaging in other activities. She had to suppress a shudder at the thought.
All three girls jumped onto the giant bed and, when Ivy finally got up to go make breakfast after wishing Hermione and Lily a happy birthday, the girls proceeded to whack their father with the nearest pillow until he rolled out of bed. Robert kissed all the girls good morning and wished them a happy birthday, and the scent of bacon travelled upstairs, making everyone's stomach growl. Robert was still stretching when Ivy shrieked from downstairs, and all four occupants of the room looked at each other strangely.
"Are you alright, Ivy?" Robert called, making his way out of the room. The three sisters glanced at each other for only a moment before they leapt off the bed and headed for the stairs, beating their father to them. They ran down the stairs in unison, and Hermione's heart was beating excitedly in her chest. She kept glancing over at Lily, and Lily kept glancing back. It was like she knew something life changing was about to happen too.
"Robert," Ivy said in a curious voice once the four had entered the kitchen. "There's an owl attacking our window."
Sure enough, there was a barn owl pecking at the glass, bouncing around on the outside ledge, holding a foot up.
Everyone else was still in shock, but Hermione ran over to it and pulled open the window. Ivy let out an odd sound of shocked protest that sounded similar to "NAY!", and Robert merely grunted as if he knew one of them would let it in.
"Look!" Hermione said excitedly, watching the owl as it let itself into the warmth of the house. "It has letters!"
"What on Earth...?" Ivy asked, glancing around the room as if someone was about to tell her to smile because she was on Candid Camera.
Lily was the only one who followed Hermione, glancing over her shoulder while she untied the letters from the owl's legs. There were two, each with the same address, but they had different names.
Miss H. Evans and Miss L. Evans.
Hermione snatched a piece of bacon from the plate by the stove and gave it to the owl, while Lily took a mug from the cabinet and filled it with water for the bird. Hermione wasn't sure how Lily knew to do this, but she had obviously seen Hermione giving it something to eat and decided to give it something to drink. Both girls grinned excitedly and when Hermione handed Lily her letter, they both ripped theirs open in unison. Hermione slid two pieces of parchment free from the envelope bearing the Hogwarts wax seal, and her stomach felt like it was bouncing around with giddiness. The first parchment read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Miss Hermione Evans,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress.
The second read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT:
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set of glass of crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS
ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Lily looked up at Hermione with wide eyes, and Hermione could only nod, confirming that it was true.
"That Snape boy..." Lily started, but Hermione finished. "Yes, he was telling the truth."
The two girls hugged and Hermione even let herself jump around like an excited child with Lily while they showed their parents. Of course, it would take a little convincing that this was real and wasn't actually a hoax, but Hermione knew that come September first, she was going back to Hogwarts. It was her home regardless of the time she was in.
She would make everything right, but for now, she would enjoy the childhood she never got to have the first time around.
Chapter End Notes: Hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it. Drop a review if you enjoyed it and let me know!
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The Thief of Time