Desperate Measures

"Ms. Granger, you are well aware of the dangers of time travel, so I won't bother telling you all the things that could go wrong with this plan. There is little hope for our future, and you are it. You know what you must do?"

The brunette nodded solemnly. "I must go back in time fifty-four years and change the path of Tom Riddle." It was risky; there were possible consequences for this that none of them could possibly imagine. One of the most important laws surrounding time travel was that you couldn't interfere with the past. But they were desperate. Because Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, lived no more.

How it happened, no one could say for sure. Whether it had been an accident, or whether he had done it on purpose, Harry was found dead in his aunt and uncle's house three weeks into the summer after his sixth year. Right after Lupin died.

They were on the verge of losing the War against Lord Voldemort. And desperate times call for desperate measures. Which is why 17-year old Hermione Granger was standing in the Headmasters office with Albus Dumbledore, Time Turner around her neck, wearing the uniform of fifty-some years previous, with a whole new identity she was ready to assume. She had no idea how she was going to accomplish her mission, but she knew she had to succeed anyway. She had to somehow interfere with Tom Marvolo Riddle's path to power and the Dark Side.

It shouldn't have worked, by any means. It should have been impossible. And, if not for Dumbledore's lack of respect for the law, it would have been. He wasn't supposed to travel through time any more than Hermione was. And if Ministry officials had, a few years earlier, found out that he did, he would have had to break out of Azkaban (which, obviously, he could; it would have been a waste of time, though, for all parties involved). With his connections to the Transfiguration teacher/ Deputy Headmaster who was, in fact, a fifty-year-younger version of himself, they were able to create for Hermione a somewhat-safe place for her to exist, and she was spared the necessity of explaining the situation. Those involved, though - Professor (not Headmaster) Dumbledore, Headmaster Dippet, and a few others - didn't know the full extent of the plan; that would have been even more dangerous. All they knew was that, for some reason, a student had to be transferred from 1997 to 1943, and that they were to accept that and make excuses for her if necessary.

She had said her goodbye's that morning, as few as she had to say. It was supposed to be kept basically secret, for the safety of everyone involved. Her parents had been informed, as had Ron and the rest of the Weasleys and the Order of the Phoenix; Draco Malfoy, who had, much to Hermione's dismay, been given the title of Head Boy opposite her Head Girl, had been told that she would be leaving for an undetermined amount of time, and Hannah Abbott was temporarily given the position, but just until Hermione's return.

Tears were forming at the corners of her eyes, and she was shaking. She was holding one end of her trunk - so it would be transported with her - and in her other hand was a piece of parchment giving her new name, birthdate, and everything else that would be expected of a transfer student, starting Hogwarts in her seventh year.

She wiped the tears out of her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm ready," she said. Dumbledore nodded, took a step closer to her and grabbed the Time Turner, slightly larger than the one she had in her third year, fastened around her neck. He turned it fifty-five times. Wand in pocket, identity in hand, Hermione Granger was transported back in time more than half a century, where Hermione Granger didn't exist and she, the bookish brunette, became Jane Levvens.