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A/N: Thanks to those who have read and reviewed. :) To those of you who write on this site, can any of you tell me how to upload banners for stories? For some reason I'm unable to upload the one I have for this fic...and it's really beautiful, too! So if anybody knows how could you please let me know?


The Future Is What We Make It

"Well love," a teenaged Sirius Black purred as he approached the stunned Hermione, winking playfully as he sat beside Mrs Potter on the edge of Hermione's bed. "Merlin's saggy balls am I glad to see you alive and well! Here I thought I wouldn't get you to Potter Manor on time--you were bleeding all over my beloved motorbike, you know? Rushed as fast as I could here--probably broke a few muggle laws to do it, but hey, you get that sometimes."

Hermione really didn't know what to say. This was certainly no hallucination, not some freaky coincidence. This couldn't be polyjuice, either. Polyjuice potion would take on the current physical attributes of the person from which the hair was taken. No, looking at James and Sirius and seeing young, physical flesh, it couldn't be. And given Mrs Potter had been dead for at least two decades... Hermione shivered. She really was inside what she could only assume to be Potter Manor with a young and dreadfully handsome Sirius Black and an equally handsome James Potter. Along with Mrs Dorea Potter, all three of whom had died many years ago. Mrs Potter, from what Hermione had remembered Harry once telling her had died of old age in the Summer of 1979. James of course tragically by the hand of the dark Lord Voldemort himself on Halloween in 1981, and Sirius by Bellatrix Lestrange and the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries on June the 17th, 1996. With the exception of Mrs Potter both Sirius and James looked so young--there was still an innocence to their eyes.

Hermione's breath caught painfully in her chest. Had she achieved the impossible and travelled more than twenty-four hours back in time?

Despite her shock, Hermione couldn't help but inwardly smile. Harry had always said Hermione could do anything. She stared from Sirius, to Mrs Potter and then her gaze lingered longer on the curious looking James, who looked so very much like Harry she couldn't help the new tears that dripped down her cheeks. Both Sirius and James looked awfully alarmed at the sight of Hermione crying, and suddenly desperate, James shouted, "It's not like that side cart didn't need a new paint job anyway--come on Padfoot, a white side cart? What are you, a flaming poofter?"

"Oi!" Sirius wailed in response, turning to glare at his best friend. "White is a sexy colour! As sexy as I am! Hence why your ugly mug looks stupid in it."

"Stupid!?" James shrieked, gesticulating his arms wildly in the air and looking a lot like one of those air traffic controllers. "STUPID!?"

"Technically," Hermione quietly spoke up. "white isn't a colour but a shade."

Both Sirius and James then directed their gaze at Hermione and the girl couldn't help but flinch in response.

Harry, Harry, Harry. Oh God Harry, what am I doing here? I can't do this, I can't do this!

Mrs Potter laughed again, "You're a bright one, aren't you Miss..." she trailed off, smiling.

"Hermione," The young witch supplied quickly, still rather pale and shaky. "My name is Hermione."

"Ohhh," Mrs Potter cooed, "a beautiful name for a beautiful girl~"

Hermione flushed prettily, bowing her head. "Oh, I don't know about that..."

"So young Hermione, would you like me to alert your family that you are alive and well? I'm sure they must be worried sick about you."

Hermione couldn't prevent the shaky gasp that escaped her lips from the mention of her parents--who, if Hermione was where she thought she was--would currently be working on setting up their own dental practice (or they might have actually set up their business already depending on what year it was exactly), having both graduated university in 1964 and marrying a few years earlier.

"...T-they're gone..." Hermione breathed in response, the realisation hitting her like a sack of bricks. "...all gone...everybody." All colour drained from James and Sirius' faces at Hermione's words. Hermione's hand rose to her mouth and her body was wracked with more sobs. "Oh, Harry, oh, Harry." She breathed brokenly, "He'll never forgive me, never. How could I do that to him?"

Mrs Potter gripped Hermione's hand tightly and didn't seem to mind when Hermione turned her face into her shoulder and just cried.



After managing to calm herself down some, Hermione rubbed her eyes roughly and frowned.

"Is it possible for you to get into contact with Albus Dumbledore, Mrs Potter?" She asked quickly, "I would greatly appreciate it."

"Dumbledore?" Both Sirius and James chimed in, looking awkward, yet still curious.

"What do you wanna talk to that barmy old codger for?"

"James Charlus Potter!" Mrs Potter admonished gently, "That is one of the most powerful wizards in the world you're talking about!"

Sirius laughed. "Aww, Mrs P., sure, 'ole Dumbles might be a powerful one alright but he's still barking--nitwit, blubber, oddment, teak--come on, like saying things like that don't make you odd?"

Mrs Potter smiled. "I suppose you're right about that, Siri. Albus can be quite eccentric at times."

"At times, mother?" James echoed in disbelief, laughing.

"Oh hush, you." Still smiling fondly at her son, Mrs Potter then turned to Hermione. "Floo call acceptable, pet?"

"That's fine, Mrs Potter, thank you so much."

The elderly woman rose to her feet with a grace that Hermione admired greatly for a woman of her age and practically glided across the room. Pausing beside a rather detailed flowerpot that was full to the brim with a sparkling silver powder, the woman then crouched before the still crackling flames in Hermione's fireplace. Flinging the powder into the flames and not showing any outward expressions of surprise when the once red flames flashed green, Mrs Potter cried, "Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's Office!"

Within moments a younger, but still familiar face appeared within the dancing green flames and once more Hermione's hand rose to her mouth to cover her shaky inhale.

The man's head that flickered in the flames was without a doubt her deceased Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

"Ahh, Lady Dorea Potter!" said flame Dumbledore cheerily upon locking gazes with the woman seated in front of the fire. "For what do I owe the pleasure?" Dumbledore's happy smile faded quickly when he saw Dorea's less than stellar expression. "Is something the matter? Charlus, young James and Mr Black are all well, I hope?"

Hermione noted that Sirius (who was still seated on the edge of Hermione's bed but was still watching what was going on in the fireplace) suddenly looked rather chuffed to be lumped in or so to speak with James and Charlus Potter and she couldn't help but withhold her own smile. She had always known that Sirius and James were incredibly close, but to actually bear witness to their relationship with her own eyes even for a few minutes was truly something. Hermione's heart clenched painfully in her chest and Harry and Ron's smiling faces flashed before her eyes.

"Yes, yes Albus, the family is fine, though young Sirius while riding his bike to Potter Manor found a young girl rather badly injured who appeared out of thin air in a muggle street close to Grimmauld Place. I managed to heal the slashes to her body that were inflicted by what I assume to be a terrible form of a dark curse that I've never seen before, but it seems she's also suffering from the after affects of the Cruciatus curse. Her name is Hermione and since awakening she's asked specifically for you. She's on the bed behind me, so if you are not too busy would you be available for a quick chat?"

"Oh, I don't mind at all, dear Dorea." Dumbledore replied, his expression serious. "I'll pop over in just a moment. If you don't mind stepping back a tad? Thank you."

Shuffling backward slightly and then being lifted gently to her feet by James who had gravitated to his mother during her conversation with Dumbledore, Mrs Potter smiled when Dumbledore stepped through the fireplace who in turn smiled back at the Potters both. "James, good to see you, my boy. Enjoying your Summer, I trust?"

James rubbed the back of his head and smiled crookedly. Hermione was struck again about how similar Harry and James' smiles were. "It's certainly been an eventful one so far, Professor," he admitted cheerfully, still smiling.

Dumbledore smiled and his gaze turned to Hermione and Sirius in the bed. His gaze lingered momentarily on Hermione, before nodding at Sirius. "Why am I not surprised to find you here at Potter Manor already, Mr Black?" The old man asked with a chuckle and he slowly walked toward the bed, his flamboyantly purple robes with glittering stars and moons flowing behind him.

"Ah, you know me, Professorhead, can't get enough of Mrs P.'s amazing treacle tart!" Sirius replied with a bark-like laugh, running a hand through his tousled inky locks very much like James had done before him, though Hermione had to admit that Sirius looked a lot better doing it than James had done.

Dumbledore chucked. "Oh indeed, I must admit that I too am a fan of Lady Potter's excellent treacle tart. As scrumptious as the Hogwarts tarts are, they don't quite have the same taste as Mrs Potter's, a real shame. But don't tell the house elves, though. They would be ever so disappointed." Dumbledore winked conspiratorially and then turned to face Hermione, the twinkle of his eyes as he talked to Sirius gone as quickly as it came. "Now, you are the Miss Hermione that Dorea was discussing?" He inquired, smiling. "Do you have a family name to go with your Shakespearean given?"

"Granger," Hermione replied softly, surprised and yet not that Dumbledore knew of William Shakespeare enough to associate it to her name. "I'm Hermione Granger."

I'm not from here, please believe me.

Being in Dumbledore's presence was one of the most reassuring feelings in the world and Hermione's smile was watery as she looked into Dumbledore's blue blue eyes. Seemingly reading the message that Hermione's eyes were screaming, Dumbledore turned to the two Marauders in the room.

"Mr Potter and Mr Black, if you both would be so kind as to leave temporarily while Miss Granger, your mother and I have a brief discussion? I dare say we wont be too long and then you two can continue spending time with Miss Granger."

Quickly nodding, Sirius leapt to his feet and he and James both quickly made their way to the bedroom door, both smiling sheepishly. "Sure professor. Call us when you're ready!"

Dumbledore laughed. "Of course."

"It was nice meeting you, Miss Hermione Granger! We'll be back in a tick," both boys then bowed flamboyantly in Hermione's direction, identical beams on their faces when Hermione flushed at the attention and gallantly closed the heavy door behind them.

It wasn't until the sounds of James and Sirius' footsteps retreating faded did Dorea in fact start to speak and she once again sat on Hermione's bed.

"You claim to know of my son and young Sirius Black, but it appears as if they have never met you before." The woman stated, her voice gentle, but still unforgiving.

Glancing at Mrs Potter and then at Dumbledore, Hermione nodded. "That would be because they technically haven't met me yet." Hermione replied softly, rubbing her hands again.

"So how is it that you know my children?"

Was that fear in Mrs Potter's tone?

"...While I can't claim to know James, I can admit that I knew Sirius Black many years ago. Like, for example, though you have never met me, Professor Dumbledore I can say I know quite a lot about you." Hermione turned to her old Headmaster, her gaze steady as Dumbledore stared right back. She took a deep breath. "My name is Hermione Jean Granger and I was born on the 19th of September, 1979." Ignoring the stunned expressions of Dorea Potter and Albus Dumbledore, she continued, "My best friends were Harry James Potter, son of James Potter and Ronald Billius Weasley, the sixth born son of Arthur Weasley. I am a Muggleborn and did not know of magic until I was greeted by a Professor Minevra McGonagall who taught Transfiguration in the Summer holidays in July of 1991. I attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from 1991 up until 1997, though for the past year I've been on the run with Harry and Ron attempting to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort." Hermione breathed deeply, her body shaking. "After being captured by Death Eaters and being tortured with the Cruiciatus curse and a knife for information that I would not give, I was struck with the killing curse by one Bellatrix Lestrange in a room in Malfoy Manor. Though for some reason instead of me going where one's supposed to go after death I woke up here being tended to by Mrs Potter, though I have no idea how this is so."

At Dorea's pale face, Hermione urged Dumbledore, "I know you are a talented Legimens, Professor. Read my mind if you have to--you just have to know I'm not lying!"

Dumbledore's voice was soft when he spoke. "I do not have to read your mind to know you speak the truth, Miss Granger. I can see it in your eyes."

More tears sprang to Hermione's eyes at this and she rubbed at them fiercely. "T-thank you, professor. You have no idea how much your faith in me means."

"Oh, Miss Granger, I dare say I think I do." Dumbledore sighed. 

Dorea Potter stared from Dumbledore to Hermione, and the woman gently gripped Hermione's hand. "...You say you knew Sirius and were friends with what may be my future grandson...but what happened to James?"

Hermione swallowed thickly and avoided Mrs Potter's worried gaze. "I-I don't think I should tell you, Mrs Potter. I-I'm disrupting the timeline by just being here..."

"Miss Granger, you do realise that the past, or our future as you knew it exists no longer." Dumbledore's voice was heavy and he suddenly appeared tired. "So what you tell us here will change nothing as there is no 'future' yet?"


Hermione stared from Dumbledore to Mrs Potter, her eyes wide. "What do you mean there's no future? A-Are you saying I'm trapped here?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "That is precisely what I'm saying, Miss Granger. The future you call your present died the moment that Avada Kedavra struck your chest. There is no way to return to something that has yet to take place. Even with magic such a task is impossible."

"But Professor, I've used a timeturner before, and I've been able to jump back in time using it--what makes this so different?"

Dumbledore looked intrigued, but still frowned. "That would likely be because you had timeturner in your possession, Miss Granger. Considering you said that you had no timeturner in your possession that sent you here at your time of death I must say that even with magic the ability for you to return to 1998 would be...improbable. Another theory also could be that you've created an almost alternative timeline of sorts with your presence here. Has my future self ever mentioned meeting a Miss Hermione Granger or has any other person that you've known since your acceptance to Hogwarts?" At Hermione's shake of her head Dumbledore continued, "Judging by your negative answer Miss Granger then your presence here is not what happened originally. Something has changed from the timeline from where you came and the timeline that you are now in."

Gaping wildly like a fish, Hermione saw the logic in Dumbledore's statement, but it didn't make her torment feel any better.

She would never see her family or friends ever again.

Wait, no. That's not right. Hermione mused. Her family and friends would never see her again as their daughter and friend. If everything worked out well, Hermione would see them again in a much better world. A better world free of Lord Voldemort and a better world with a smiling Harry that bore no lightning bolt scar. Hermione clenched her fists and determination filled her eyes.

"So given my future now is what we make of it I have a suggestion, Professor. Do you want to know how we can defeat Voldemort?"



James Potter and Sirius Black were currently in James' bedroom on the third floor discussing what they knew of the injured girl, Hermione. 

Sirius, sitting upside down in James' armchair with his knuckles brushing the stone floor and his long legs resting over the back of the chair, turned a grey gaze to a pensive James. "Reckon she was attacked by Death Eaters?"

James frowned. "Certainly seems that way, Padfoot. I wonder what she's done to deserve that kind of treatment. ...Do you think she's important to the cause or something?"

"Well 'Granger' clearly isn't a Wizarding name--so she's either a half-blood or a muggleborn. And given how blood manic this Voldemort bloke is, maybe the uprising is getting closer and closer now? It was only ever gonna be a matter of time before war broke out."

"Well fuck, Padfoot. You saw the mess that Hermione was in when you brought her in here--I seriously thought she was going to die in my blooding parlour at the state she was in! And they’re doing worse things than that to other people!? That’s crazy!" James shouted, his eyes wild.

"James." Sirius barked, silencing his best friend immediately. "Don't be naive. If they'd wanted to kill Hermione they would've done so. There's a reason why she's still alive when they obviously wiped her family out--she's a clear message to someone. Fuck with us and we'll fuck you up. This Voldemort bloke means business, Prongs. Has done for years now. People are dying out there." Sirius gestured to the world outside James' bedroom window, his expression dark.

James shuddered. "Well at least Hermione's okay."

"I doubt she's okay, Prongs." Sirius sighed. "Pretty sure Voldemort and his followers took out her family. She wont ever be the same again."

"...Do you think she'll come to Hogwarts, now?" Running a hand through his messy hair, James frowned. "I've never seen her around at school and she looks about our age...reckon Dumbledore'll let her attend? ...And where in the name of Merlin's saggy balls did she come from?"

"Hmm, I don't see why not. I don't think Hermione really has anywhere to go, nowadays. Maybe she'll even be sorted into Gryffindor House. Surviving what she did I don't see how the hat can deny she isn't brave. ...As for where she's from, I've got no idea. She's a Brit, but."

"Hmm, seems like it. And true." James suddenly grinned. "And it's always great to have new people in Gryffindor--makes things exciting."

Sirius smiled widely in response. "Yeah, definitely."

"...Do you reckon she likes Quidditch?"



Dorea Potter and Albus Dumbledore's faces were both chalk white as they both stared at Hermione currently seated in the loveseat beside Mrs Potter.

The trio, after James and Sirius had left the room had vacated to the two lounges in front of the fire and while moving as though she were an old woman being plagued with arthritis Hermione made it to the seat without assistance--it was a rather proud moment if she did say so herself.

"...He made a Horcrux?" Mrs Potter breathed in horror, grey eyes wide in terror. "To imagine he would do such a thing?"

"Oh, not just one, Mrs Potter. Professor Dumbledore, my Professor Dumbledore I mean, suspected that he had made seven."

"....Seven...!?" Mrs Potter gasped, a hand to her mouth.

"Seven horcruxes," Dumbledore echoed in disbelief. "...To think Tom would go so far..."

"Anything for immortality, professor. Voldemort was, and is, an evil monster."

"And these horcruxes, were you able to identify and destroy any of them?" Dumbledore then asked quietly, frowning.

"Before I died," Hermione shuddered, "we had managed to destroy only three of the horcruxes and at that time before we were captured by Snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor before we had acquired another. Riddle's diary was destroyed by Harry in 1993 when he stabbed it with a Basilisk fang. You, professor destroyed Marvolo Gaunt's ring sometime in 1996 and my other best friend Ron destroyed Slytherin's locket in 1997. We were also thinking that Helga Hufflepuff’s cup was also hidden in the Lestrange’s Vault in Gringotts, but we didn’t know for sure." Hermione sighed. "As for the other horcruxes...we could only suspect what they were. Voldemort, as you most likely know Professor had a fascination with Hogwarts. And with his fascination, we suspected that all the horcruxes had something to do with the Hogwarts founders and that seems to be the case with the all horcruxes we've found so far. We suspected that the remaining horcruxes were something that belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor, though we didn't know what the items were."

"I see." Dumbledore mused quietly, "Do you think you would be able to find any of these horcruxes at this very moment?"

"Honestly sir? I doubt it. Given that it’s currently 1976 as you said, I doubt that any of the items that we knew about would be where we found them. I doubt that the Malfoys and the Lestranges are high on the tier of Voldemort's followers as yet to use their quarters to hide such valuable objects and neither Harry nor yourself told me where you found the locket or the ring. I have my suspicions though as to where these items could be, but I think you would have better suspicions than I myself would, professor."

"I see." Dumbledore sighed. "Well Miss Granger, whatever shall we do with you? You have no records that would say you attended school, nor do you have a wand. While I am sure you are a talented student and a worthy duellist, if things were not the way they were in your time you would still be a Hogwarts student, no?"

Hermione smiled weakly. "I would've been in my seventh year, Professor. Professor McGonagall once told me that I was a shoe-in for the Head Girl spot...though I can't quite see that happening now." She rubbed her suddenly shining eyes.

"Well, Miss Granger, what would you say if I offered you a spot in Hogwarts?" Dumbledore smiled widely as Hermione's jaw dropped. "Considering it’s currently the Summer holiday, we can quite easily place you within the school for this upcoming September...and though you are almost two years their elder I think it would be best if I put you in with the sixth years. I suspect that Voldemort will know of your presence as soon as you begin your first term and it would be safer for all if I kept you closer to my person for a longer period of time--do you understand where I am coming from?"

Hermione bobbed her head in agreement. "And considering I'm still a student I would be able to assist you more with Voldemort research, not to mention keep an eye on some well known future Death Eaters and Order of the Phoenix members that are current students."

"Indeed, Miss Granger." Dumbledore smiled gently. "Has anybody ever told you that you are exceptionally bright?"

Hermione beamed. "Not to brag but I was known as the Brightest Witch of my generation, Sir. You said so yourself."

"Did I indeed?" Dumbledore smiled. "Well Miss Granger, that is what we shall do. For the meantime however, what shall we do with you until term starts?"

"Albus, if I may interject?" Mrs Potter suddenly spoke, suddenly looking nervous.

"Oh but of course, dear Dorea, is there something the matter?"

"If Hermione wouldn't mind I would love to have her remain with myself and the rest of my family here in Potter Manor until September the first." Mrs Potter smiled as she saw tears quickly fill Hermione's eyes. "She would most certainly be welcome and would definitely be safe from the dangers outside within these walls. And it is not as if we cannot afford to keep her either as we are certainly wealthy enough."

"Mrs Potter..." Hermione breathed in awe, not bothering to wipe her tears away. "Oh, it’s not necessary, really, it isn't."

"Of course it's necessary, pet." The old woman suddenly snapped, before smiling warmly. "I've always wanted to have a daughter of my own, though I was ever so pleased when my miracle James was born. Please just indulge this old woman, Hermione. I promise I won’t dress you up too much!"

"...Are you sure?"

Mrs Potter snorted. "Of course I'm sure, pet, otherwise I would not have asked you. I'm sure my husband and children, born or surrogate will be as pleased as punch to have you stay here too. ...They always have liked new flashy toys."

Dumbledore clapped his hands cheerily, "Well that's settled, then! Miss Granger you will stay with the Potters here until the new term starts and you'll attend Hogwarts. Now my dear I must get going, I now have a lot to contemplate. I have no doubt I will see you more over this holiday, but please do enjoy yourself." Dumbledore rose to his feet, adjusting his robes. "Oh, and Miss Granger?"


"I think for the time being it should be imperative that you tell nobody other than myself or Lady Dorea here about the truth of your origins. It's best with these kind of things to keep our cards close to our chests...though I do believe that in time you will be able to tell those you trust completely the truth. But for now it's best just to tell others that Death Eaters targeted and slew your family and friends for being muggleborn, a horrible mistruth, I know, but absolutely necessary. The less detail, the more people are likely to believe. Dorea, you are fine to tell Lord Charlus of Hermione, but I trust you too shall remain silent?"

"Oh, of course, Albus."

"Very well then. I must be off. I shall see you shortly Miss Granger and know this--the future is what we make it." Dumbledore smiled once more in Hermione's direction and picking up a palm-full of floo powder from the pot beside the fireplace, Albus Dumbledore disappeared in a whirl of green flames.

Now that Dumbledore was gone, Mrs Potter again turned to Hermione. "Well, my dear—would you like some tea?”


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