A Time Before Tears

Prologue

Hermione Granger was fifteen when I met her, though I thought she was sixteen at the time. She entered my life in a hailstorm of trouble and somehow managed to fit in completely. She snuggled into my friendships, my relationships, my life, and I never regretted that. But now she stands before me, trying to tell Harry things that should have taken weeks, in less than an hour.

~*~*~

"Where are you going, Hermione?" Harry asked as he raised his head from his hands, which were folded neatly on the table on which he was 'studying.' Hermione would have guessed him to be asleep.

"Bet you a galleon it's to the library," Ron muttered, glancing sideways at Hermione.

"Actually, I've my meeting with Professor McGonagall."

"Is this about that table?" Ron asked, exasperated.

"It's a good idea."

"According to who?" Ron replied. Hermione stole a look at Harry after shooting a menacing glare at her redheaded best friend. As she suspected, Harry was no longer listening. Her heart dropped. He seemed to be even more easily distracted this year. Shaking her head and trying to banish such thoughts from her mind, Hermione focused back on Ron.

"According to Professor McGonagall, after this meeting. It will be good for the prefects to have their own table and for the students to see the Head Boy and Girl accepted by the staff to the point where they may sit at the Head Table-"

"We know the only reason you want the Head Boy and Girl to sit at the Head Table is because you're going to be Head Girl-" Ron began before Hermione cut him off.

"You can't be sure of that! I don't even know if I'm in the running. It isn't just about being top student. You need to be well rounded! I don't even play Quidditch." Harry looked up at her and smiled.

"Of course you're going to be Head Girl. You'll probably even get all of those stupid seating things taken care of and you're going to get to sit next to Snape at the Head Table like we all know you want to. Don't worry so much," Ron said so smoothly that Hermione almost missed the shot about Snape. Harry snorted into his hand and Hermione announced that her meeting was in only twenty minutes and went off the fetch the papers and Harry's map so she could get there the fastest way possible.

The meeting was in Hogsmeade so Hermione had quite a ways to walk.

~*~*~

Shifting all of her parchment in her hands as she practiced exactly what she wanted to say to the Deputy Head Mistress, Hermione heard her voice called out. She stopped walking towards the gates and turned to see an extremely squeaky Colin Creevey running towards her. He was holding a broom but seemed to find no reason to simply fly.

"Hermione!"

"Hi, Colin," she replied, ignoring the urge to glance at her watch and check the time.

"I saw you and I really needed to give Harry something but I can't just walk right up to him, now can I?" he asked almost to himself.

"Why not?"

"I took a picture of him and you and Ron Weasley and Ginny and Angelina Johnson at the first Quidditch match," Collin said, ignoring her question. "Harry wanted a copy. I just happened to come down to practice my flying because I am failing that subject and I happened to have brought the picture with me because I know that Harry likes to fly and I thought I might run into him and be able to give it to him away from people."

He held what seemed to be a picture in his hand; Hermione shuffled and shifted all of the parchment (including the map) in her arms to take the picture.

"I'll be sure he gets it, but I'm late for a meeting so I have to go." She smiled hesitatingly. He smiled back and nodded.

"Of course! Just tell Harry that he can ask for a picture anytime he wants! Now I have to practice some more or Hooch'll fail me and add that to my horrible grade in Potions and I'll be gone next year!" Hermione nodded, turned, and left, extremely grateful for any excuse to leave.

~*~*~

If anyone ever asked Hermione why she liked Professor McGonagall, she would say she liked aging professor's fair and level-headed mind. But if Hermione were honest with herself, she would admit that the reason she liked the professor so much was because Professor McGonagall was living proof that Hermione belonged in Gryffindor. She and the transfiguration professor shared a lot of qualities that seemed more Ravenclaw than Gryffindor, but the older woman was the Head of Gryffindor. That meant, by default, that Hermione belonged there too.

Hermione knew her way to and from Professor McGonagall's office better than anywhere in the castle. She could walk there blindfolded and not hit a single statue (moving staircases, shifting doors, disappearing stairs and all). But that wasn't where she was headed. Ron, Harry, and she had stayed over during Christmas and when Hermione had made the appointment, Professor McGonagall suggested meeting at the Three Broomsticks.

Glancing at the Marauder's Map, Hermione saw that the professor was already off campus. Though Hermione had wanted to arrive at the pub first, she was content to be on time. She shoved the map into her cloak when she stepped off the Hogwarts grounds.

Hogsmeade is so quiet. Hermione thought she could hear the snow landing on the ground. Looking back, it seemed strange to her that she had not realised something was wrong in the village. Or maybe she did realise it, but after five years of friendship with Harry, Hermione was no longer the type of person to turn and run from danger.

When Hermione hurried into the pub, she saw a sight that made her search in her cloak to find her wand, letting even her precious parchment fall to the ground.

Two hooded figures on either side of the bar, with McGonagall in the middle. Two Death Eaters. In a moment of pure fear, Hermione found herself feeling especially nervous that Harry was not with her.

But that thought passed quickly and the bright crossfire of spells dragged Hermione back into reality. All that truly registered in Hermione's brain was that it was not a fair fight. In the midst of this terrifying sight, as Hermione shook with the fear of seeing her favourite professor in danger of being killed, she took the time to admonish the Death Eaters for not fighting fairly.

"Hermione, get Albus!" Professor McGonagall's voice barely registered in her mind. It was like a small beacon calling Hermione out of her fear, but it was enough. It jolted Hermione's system and pushed her into action. She aimed her wand at the man on the right and shouted the disarming spell. Caught off guard, the Death Eater turned and faced his new opponent, his wand still firmly in his hand.

In a moment, a blue spell chased towards her. As if in slow motion, McGonagall turned and sent her own pink spell careening after that one. The time it took McGonagall to turn and fire the spell was enough for the other Death Eater to hit the professor and cause her to crumple to the floor. Then the two spells hit Hermione.

She rocked for less than a second and was out cold.

~*~*~

Trying to open her eyes or raise her right hand was too hard for Hermione. Instead, she focused on breathing, a hard enough job as it was.

Everything was slow, difficult. Hermione was too exhausted to even think. So she listened.

"You're going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay," a voice was saying.

"I'm sure she can hear you, but she's just too tired to open her eyes." She is so smart! Hermione thought before drifting back into unconsciousness.

~*~*~

When Hermione finally managed to open her eyes, the only thing she thought about was the fact that everything was blurry and that her eyes felt like they were on fire. She close them again in order to deal with the bright light that caused her so much pain. Even with her eyes closed she continued to see spots.

Hermione tried to reach up and rub her eyes, but her body seemed to be on a ten minute-delay because nothing happened. The soreness of her entire body was nothing compared to the shooting pain that travelled through her right arm when she tried to raise it. She barely managed to lift it off the bed she seemed to be in, before it came crashing down again. That little effort was enough to tire her out. Hermione would have gone back to bed if it had not been for the annoying voices ringing in her ears. She concentrated on understanding the words that seemed like nothing more than gibberish.

"-found her there in the morning," said a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. Ron? That seemed to be the only name that she could think of at the moment, is that Ron? Who is Ron?

"But you didn't- you know- did you?" another one sounded. This voice was not familiar to her at all. But then another name came to mind and she wondered if this one could be Harry.

"Pomfrey says I didn't."

"Well that..." and the voices turned back into gibberish as Hermione fell once again into the welcoming state of rest.

~*~*~

The next time Hermione opened her eyes it was much less painful. She still had to squint a little but a least this time things were clearer than before. She looked around at her surrounding and was shocked to find herself in the Hospital Wing late at night. The darkness of the Wing surprised Hermione. What happened? She wondered. Then it all came rushing back to her in an instant- the meeting, the parchment, the fight, and then Professor McGonagall.

Hermione made to stand up but found that she did not have the strength. She tried to call out to Madam Pomfrey but all she got for her efforts was a loud squeak. Luckily that was enough. The woman bustled in.

"Don't try and get up and don't try to talk!" You could have said that earlier, Hermione thought. She tried to get a better look at the woman who was slipping in and out of focus but could not seem to; instead Hermione focused on her own hands, which were shaking. "I know the Headmaster wants to talk with you in the morning, but for right now drink this and try to rest some more."

The matron held a goblet in front of Hermione's mouth. At first Hermione tried to reach up and grab it but soon realized that even if she been able to reach that height, she certainly could not hold up the heavy object. Instead she opened her mouth and swallowed sip after sip of the nasty tasting potion, feeling foolish and useless.

Soon Hermione found her fingers easier to move, but sleep came just as quickly as it had the last two times she had woken up.

~*~*~

The morning came and passed and Hermione did not wake up. In fact it was not until well after night had fallen again that she opened her eyes. She found her hands easier to move. It seemed she had some of her strength back. She was about to try a bit of walking when a voice sounded.

"Good evening."

She opened her eyes a crack and found that they still could not focus. Even the moonlight streaming in through the window was too strong for her to watch without seeing spots. All she registered was the voice and the long silver beard before she closed her eyes again. And once again she was astounded by the darkness of the wing.

"Good evening. Do you know why it's so dark in here?"

"The matron has informed me that your eyes are light sensitive at the moment. She has been careful to assure no candles be lit in your proximity and kept the shades closed tightly all through the day for the last five days," the man said. Hermione recognised his voice then. He was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, she was safe.

"Five days?"

"Yes, and soon you will have been here for six nights as well."

"What about Professor McGonagall?" Talking was starting to tire her, but Hermione needed this answer. She needed to know exactly what she had done to her favourite professor. Had she hindered her fighting? Had she saved her?

"Professor McGonagall is currently correcting exams in her office, I believe." There was a question in his voice that Hermione should have been curious about. But she wasn't. Instead her overwhelming relief in knowing that the professor had not died calmed her mind.

"Are Ron and Harry worried?" she managed to ask before sleep took its hold completely. She never heard the question that was his response.

~*~*~

It took one full week of practice in the dark before Hermione could even walk again- if you could call it that. She walked with a cloth draped over her eyes, as they were still trying to heal, and only with the aid of magical crutches. She drank that same awful liquid every night, only being able to lift it on her own near the end of her stay. The headmaster visited during the nights when she was awake. She knew that she should try and retain a somewhat reasonable sleeping habit, but she didn't care enough to actually want to open her eyes in that violent daytime sunlight.

She had originally been terrified of falling behind in her classes and asked for all of her work. Then she realized she couldn't even read them and painfully tried to concentrate on getting better instead of the workload she would return to.

"Have Ron and Harry been by to see me?" Hermione asked one day as she walked around the empty wing on her crutches.

"No, your friends aren't here, dear," the woman who had become her personal saviour said. Hermione's heart almost stopped beating. Are they in trouble? Are they on a dangerous adventure? Are they fighting you-know-who? "But you have had visitors. In fact you've had a few regular visitors."

"Where are Ron and Harry?"

"They didn't come with you."

Hermione hobbled around for a little while more, thinking. She even tried to walk without the crutches for a while and found that it was too difficult. Madam Pomfrey caught her before she hit the ground though.

"You've been so wonderful to me. I regret every time I ever bullied you into letting me stay and complained about not wanting the potion." Hermione saw, now that her vision had cleared up a lot, a look pass across the woman's face that worried her. Am I not as well as I think I am?

"I'm going to wake you in the morning tomorrow as you've told me your vision's no longer hurting." The nurse got up to leave. "You'll probably see your guests in the morning, at least one of them comes a day."

~*~*~

Someone was shaking Hermione's left shoulder a little and though she tried to ignore it, Hermione was a light sleeper. Then she realized the only reason someone would wake her was if she was late for class. Hermione sat bolt upright and was almost out of bed by the time she heard the laughter. Her eyes weren't open yet though. There was too much light. I am in the Hospital Wing. I don't have to go to class. She lay back down.

"I didn't mean to give you such a start," the voice laughed.

"You're lying. That's exactly what you wanted to do," a second voice answered, this time it was female and sounded familiar.

"Maybe, but I didn't think it'd work so well."

"Harry?" Hermione asked. She slowly opened her eyes, but quickly shut them again after the light that poured in threatened to blind her.

"No, not Harry, just James and Lily."

James and Lily... Lily and James... The words echoed in Hermione's mind. She knew those words. She knew something about them, something that she should remember, but the light was too strong. It was hurting her so much that she couldn't even think straight. Even with closed eyes it hurt. Who were these people? They had something to do with... with... James and Lily...

"Could you shut the curtains?" she asked quietly, her thoughts still running at full speed.

"Of course!" the female said.

Hermione heard the curtain shut and once they were she felt the instant relief behind her eyelids. Now her mind was free to wander on its own. James and Lily. Why do I know them?

A moment later, it hit her like a ton of bricks. It hit her so quickly that it took her breath away and she had no doubt that she was right. Her eyes shot open and she ignored the pain as she stared at the boy who was standing to the left of her bed. He was tall (though he probably looked a lot taller than he actually was because Hermione was lying down) with messy black hair and glasses. He was wearing Gryffindor colours on his robes and a prefect badge hung crookedly on his chest. His eyes were soft brown and a huge smile was plastered on his face.

The girl moved a little, causing Hermione's dark-brown, stinging, unblinking eyes to shift over to her. She was also tall with pale, pale skin and a cautious smile. Her face was beautiful, with large eyes- the type of face that people trusted. Her hair was long, dark red, pulled back into a ponytail. The dark red strands fell neatly to the base of the girl's neck and though most of it was straight, it curled slightly at the end. Her hair was gorgeous. Her eyes, though, were what caught, grabbed, and stole Hermione's attention. She knew only one other person who owned eyes like those and he was her best friend.

James and Lily Potter. Harry's parents. There was a pounding in Hermione's ears. She couldn't' remember to breathe. She couldn't remember to think. The only word echoing in her mind was How?

"Why are you here?" she managed to squeeze out. Her throat seemed constricted, her eyes bulged out, her skin paled, and her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"A friend of ours found you in Hogsmeade. He brought you here. You weren't looking well. In fact, the only thing on you that didn't seem damaged was your wand," the girl said. No, not some girl. She is Lily: Lily the mother of my best friend. The dead mother of my best friend. The woman who died to save him. What the hell is going on?

"He was really worried so we took turns checking on you between classes. We're lucky enough to have you actually wake up," James finished. Lily poked him across the bed and muttered something about it not being luck. The young redhead looked carefully at Hermione with her big concerned eyes. Harry's eyes, Hermione thought, and looking at James, Harry's face. She stared at them with a mix of excitement, anxiety, and fear.

"I'm Lily Evans by the way. And this dunderhead's James Potter," Lily said pointing at herself and James.

"The amazing, wonderful, clever, brilliant, dunderhead James Potter that is," he said, laughing as Lily smiled and tried to swat him.

They looked so comfortable with each other. They fit perfectly together. Or maybe that was just Hermione's opinion because she had been a best friend to the boy that was a perfect mix of the two of them. Lily looked at Hermione with a big, inviting smile on her face. She looked concerned about Hermione, but she also looked expectant.

"I'm Hermione," she barely managed to spit out before she practically collapsed from the excitement of the last few minutes. Her eyes, which were watering from the effort of staying open, down began to leak tears.

"Oh! You're still not well are you?" Lily asked, taking a step closer to the bed. That shocked Hermione, most people would have backed away.

"We should leave," James offered as headed for the door.

"You'll probably see us again before long."

Hermione should have fallen asleep right then. She should have been able to close her eyes and not know reality again for another few hours. Instead she remained awake until the night fell. She remained laying on her bed with her eyes closed, thinking (and eating with Madam Pomfrey made her a meal).

How did I get here? Those spell that hit me. What were they? How could they have sent me back in time! How could I be here of all places? I am stuck here. Just as quickly as that last thought had come to her, Hermione dismissed it. Of everything she had learned in all of her classes in Third Year, the one thing that stuck with her most were her lessons in Time Travel.

Both Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore had given her speeches about the implications of it and from what she researched about the Time-Turners, it was almost guaranteed that she could find one and use it to get back her own time. But she still hadn't fully accepted where she was. She hadn't even asked them what year they were in. And that was when the information really stuck to her. She was in the past! She had just spoken to two of the most famous people in the world and they had no idea what Voldemort-

Oh my God. He's gaining power here, Hermione thought quickly and fear almost completely consumed her. She had been fighting the evil wizard since back to First Year. Harry, Ron, and she had worked against him as long and hard as possible, but at the end of last year everything had changed.

At the end of last year, Voldemort came back. People were scared into silence just at the mere thought of him being alive like he was when Harry's parents were alive.

What had it been like when he was in full power? Who worked against him? How did Harry beat-oh. My. God. I can stop him killing Harry's parents. I can save Sirius from prison. I can tell people about Neville's parents. I can tell Professor Dumbledore that Snape will be a Death Eater and he can save him. I can tell Professor Dumbledore not to hire Quirrell! I can stop Cedric's death. I can stop everything. I can change everything. I can tell everyone not to trust Peter. I can...and as these thoughts rushed past rationality and into imagination, Hermione Granger suddenly felt the explosive pressure of it all.

She realized that she had the power to stop every one of those horrible deaths that she had read about. And just as she was beginning to allow herself to imagine the world that she could create, she stopped herself.

"Time is too complex for anything to be certain in the future. The past is constantly changing under us and leaving room for everything now to change. Your Timeturner should not be used for anything other than your classes. Changing the past changes you. It changes the future, and as hard as it is to imagine even the worst of incidents have a purpose to serve and stopping them could destroy the world..." Dumbledore's words from so long ago rang through her head. And convinced her to do nothing.

She could attempt to change nothing. She would have to watch what she said to everyone, ensuring they learned nothing of the future from which she came. I can't tell the headmaster. I can't tell anyone. I need to find a way home soon.

And suddenly Hermione Granger felt infinitely alone.