Introduction: Hello all. This fic is a plot bunny that has been stuck in my head for some time now. This is also my first attempt at a Harry Potter/Assassin's Creed crossover story. The main pairing is Harry/Hermione, which will be implied in this chapter. Abstergo abducts both before their fourth year. However, Assassins, including Ezio Auditore da Firenze and Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, who fell through a time loop, rescue them both. Now, for your enjoyment, Assassins in Gryffindor!

Song for the Chapter: "Natural Born Killer" by Avenged Sevenfold
"One snap for the dying, one click to end the day.
Another story with a mangled scene it couldn't happen any other way.
You wanna talk about it?
I'm begging you to walk in my shoes anytime.
Watch the clock till you unwind.
You wanna cry about it, it's making me consider that I lost my mind."

Chapter 1: Time Loops and Abductions

Masyaf, Syria, January 1195
Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad awoke to the chilling breeze of early January. His dreams were plagued by the assault on this very castle that decimated the Levantine Assassins four years ago. And all because Altaïr had failed to kill the one Templar who then led that assault: Robert de Sable, and failed to acquire the Apple of Eden. Al Mualim, Grand Master of the Levantine Assassins, took that failure and used it to justify having Altaïr demoted from Master Assassin to Novice. Mualim had claimed that Altaïr's failure had shamed the Assassin Order, and he would need to work very hard to redeem himself.

So, due to this latest bout of insomnia, Altaïr stepped out from his quarters into the crisp early morning mountain air. This, coupled with the light January snow, gave Masyaf a feeling of peace and serenity, something the young Assassin desperately wanted and needed. If only I had been able to assassinate that Templar, I could have prevented the deaths of my brothers and sisters. As Altaïr wallowed in his misery, a flash of light caught his eye. Deciding to investigate, Altaïr climbed down the castle walls to the courtyard where he saw the flash.

When the young Assassin arrived in the courtyard, the sight that greeted him was indescribable. A rift tore through the fabric of the air itself and lay in the middle of the courtyard. Cautiously, Altaïr approached the rift. Reaching forward, Altaïr lightly brushed the rift with his fingertips. Then, the unexpected happened in the form of the rift forcefully pulling Altaïr into it. The Assassin's last thought before he lost consciousness was, Sweet mother of God!

Istanbul (Constantinople), Ottoman Empire, 1510
Ezio Auditore da Firenze awoke from his slumber as the ship he traveled on lurched in the waves of the Bosporus Strait that was to take him to the eastern half of Istanbul. After attempting to get back to sleep and failing again, Ezio rolled out of his bed and dressed. Making sure all of his equipment was secure; Ezio walked out of his sleeping quarters and was startled by a bright flash of light that came in the direction of the galley. What was that? Ezio asked himself in curiosity. Taking a closer look, Ezio was shocked to see a tear through the very fabric of space directly inside the galley's entrance. Cautiously moving forward, Ezio looked for a way around when the ship lurched again with the tide, causing the Italian Assassin to brush the rift with his shoulder.

At first, it seemed as if nothing happened when suddenly Ezio was pulled right off his feet and thrown through the rift, his last thoughts being, Oh dear God! He then fell unconscious as he unknowingly traveled through time.

4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England, 10 August 1994
Harry James Potter woke up one cold, early August morning feeling quite rattled and in a cold sweat. He had been dreaming of a man in a small village, a Muggle that he didn't know the name of that was murdered. Harry had awoken right after, the old scar on his forehead lighting up like Times Square and practically burning to the touch. This left him in a quandary, as he couldn't think of anyone immediately to talk to. His remaining living relatives, the Dursleys, were out by default, as they would taunt him and proceed to beat him after calling him a liar. Thinking of whom he could write to, Harry rolled over in his bed to check the clock on his bedside table after grabbing his glasses. It read one-thirty in the morning. Groaning, Harry stood up, stretched, and prepared to write a letter to Sirius, his godfather:

Dear Sirius,
How are you? I'm writing to tell you that my scar started burning this morning. I had been dreaming, although it seemed to be more of a vision of Wormtail and Voldemort scheming to get to me. They must have been plotting another plan to off me so Voldemort could regain power and he killed the Muggle who overheard them. I don't know what this means or if I'm just being jumpy about a few seconds' pain.

But I can't say in this letter. I'll send this with Hedwig after she's done hunting and after I've sent a letter to Hermione, hopefully she'll tell me something helpful.

There's another thing as well. When I'm not dreaming about Voldemort and Wormtail, I keep dreaming about different people. There are three, and I have never seen the locations but I know that they are from different times. Two places were cold and constantly snowing while one of those two was heavily forested. Then, the location changes to a city in the past that I've never set foot in. Plus, it looked like I was the person in the dream, or at least living through the event in their eyes. Is there anything that you can say to shed light on this, or should I go to Gringotts and take an inheritance test?

Hope you're all right, wherever you are.


P.S. Say hi to Buckbeak for me.

When Harry finished, he stood and stretched before pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment. He then wrote his letter to Hermione Granger, his best friend.

I hope that this letter comes to you at a reasonable hour. I'm writing to tell you that I've been having weird dreams lately and that I'm only up writing this letter because my scar hurt this morning. I know that I should write to Dumbledore, but for some odd reason I don't feel particularly confident he'll give me any useful information. So, here I am, asking my beautiful and brilliant friend for advice. Before you lecture me about not trusting anyone, I have a letter for Sirius that going to go to him as soon as Hedwig drops yours off. There's more that I can't say in a letter, but I promise that when we see each other in person again, I will tell you everything.

Take care of yourself, my angel.



Satisfied with the letter, Harry waited until the ink dried and then folded it into an envelope. Had it been any other time that someone asked Harry if he had someone special in his life, his answer would be no. However, if someone was to ask that question now or even at the end of second year, Harry would have given only one name: Hermione Granger.

Yes, it was true. Harry Potter was in love with Hermione Granger, self-described plain-Jane bookworm and teacher's pet. At least, that's what she'd say. If you were to ask Harry, he would describe his highly intelligent friend as a beautiful diamond in the rough. He would ramble on about Hermione's sweet and caring nature as well as her intelligence. But most importantly for him, Harry would say that Hermione was his rock, his shining angel that kept him from falling into the dark abyss that was his life since the fateful Halloween that left him cursed to live with his less than caring relatives.

Despite the fact that there would be another person that could help him, Harry wasn't feeling very confident in Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Something told Harry that Dumbledore knew more than what Harry had been told from him, and it frustrated Harry to no end. After double-checking his letters, Harry stood up just as his snowy owl, Hedwig, entered through his bedroom window. Said owl looked quite content as she held a dead mouse in her beak. Smiling, Harry said, "Hey girl, I have a couple letters for you to send. The first goes to Hermione, and then the second goes to Sirius. You know what to do." Hedwig gave a look of understanding and dropped the dead mouse. Then, she grabbed the letter to Hermione in her beak and waited until Harry tied Sirius' letter to her leg. The snowy owl took flight shortly after she gave Harry an affectionate rub against his face. Harry yawned in fatigue. Deciding to try and sleep again, he took his glasses off and returned to bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. At 7:30 in the morning, Harry woke and dressed.

His day was filled with the usual poor treatment at the hands of the Dursleys with the added bonus of having random flashbacks about the people that haunted him in his sleep not named Voldemort or Wormtail. He had not heard from Hermione yet, but figured that she had not gotten to write a reply or she was doing something else and had not gotten a chance to read his letter. Nevertheless, when Harry got back to his room that night, Hedwig was perched in her cage and two letters sat on his desk.

His previous fatigue forgotten, Harry rushed to his desk and tore open the first letter he could grab. The beautifully artistic scrawl meant that he was reading Hermione's response.

Dear Harry,
I can assure you that your letter did indeed arrive at a reasonable hour. When you mentioned your scar hurting, at first, I was going to say write to Dumbledore, but when you mentioned him not giving you anything useful to work with, I couldn't help but agree. I'm glad you chose to write to Sirius, it's just sad that you couldn't have just lived with him instead of those horrible people you have the misfortune to be related to. You can't do much regarding your Harry, but I would suggest keeping a journal and writing in it, especially if another Voldemort-induced nightmare plagues your sleep again. I'll check
Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions and see what it says about curse scars.

On another note, do you truly think I'm beautiful? I mean, it's sweet of you to say that I'm beautiful, but be serious Harry. I have buckteeth, my hair is an unmanageable mess (although it's not as bad as yours), and overall I am relatively plain in the looks department.

Anyway, we definitely will be talking when we both get to the Burrow next week. You had better keep your promise to talk to me once we see each other again.

Be careful my Aragorn.


Hermione (your Arwen)

Harry's stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. Hermione calling him "my Aragorn" had him dancing with joy. However, he shook his head good-naturedly as Hermione tried to convince him that she wasn't that good-looking. I still love her anyway, and nothing anyone can do will change my mind on that score. Harry told himself forcefully.

After reading Sirius' letter, which said what Hermione said, minus the flirting. He also said that if anything else came up, Padfoot was going to return straight to England to be with "my pup" as he called Harry. Finally, after shaking his head at his Godfather's letter, Harry climbed into bed and fell asleep after taking his glasses off.

4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England, 11 August 1994
For some odd reason, when Harry awoke after another fitful night that left him sleepless, he felt something was different about this particular morning. The Dursleys were already up for one, and they didn't hound him for being the last to wake. Harry was quite confused and felt that something was certainly off. Now, Harry, what would possibly happen at this hour? Harry chided himself. After going up to his room, Harry told Hedwig to head over to the Burrow and wait for him. Immediately after, a loud crack resonated through Privet Drive. Two more followed, and within seconds, the Dursleys lay dead at their dining room table, all three of them shot in the head as Harry raced down the stairs to investigate. Before Harry could react due to the shock of seeing his only living family dead, someone burst through the front door, tackled him, and then attempted to press a cloth soaked in some sort of chemical over his face. He managed to wrench himself out of his assailant's grip, and had somehow managed to get hold of the man's knife. Turning to face his attacker, Harry then suddenly moved to the side as the man charged and buried the knife in the base of the man's skull, killing him instantly. Harry's eyes widened in shock as his mind caught up to him. Oh my God, I just killed a man. Why did I do that? HOW did I know to do that? These thoughts intensified when Harry added a second man to his body count as Harry stabbed him in the throat, killing him just as quickly as the first. Then, Harry managed to pick up one of the dead men's pistols and began shooting anyone who got close enough. The Glock 17 pistol barked out several times as the paramilitary mercenaries attempted to subdue Harry.

Finally, Harry's mind caught up to him, and he suddenly stopped fighting as he grieved for killing those men. Unfortunately, he didn't notice another black garbed man sneak up on him. In fact, Harry didn't notice anything until he felt a sharp pain in the base of his skull before his vision went black, not even the sound of a car door slamming or the sound of the van peeling out of Privet Drive.

Knightdale, England, 13 August 1994
Hermione Granger woke up to the sound of her mother cooking breakfast. She was soon dressed and in the kitchen in the Grangers' spacious main floor of their well-kept London home. Her mother, Jean, was standing over the stove frying some bacon for the family breakfast. Smiling, Hermione said, "Morning, Mum." Her mother replied with, "How're you, dear?" After telling her mother she was fine, Hermione grabbed a glass of water and a plate of breakfast. "Dad left already?" "Yes dear, he ad an early call this morning." Odd, Hermione thought, Dad doesn't usually leave until ten. It's eight-thirty. Shortly after she sat down at the table, an owl arrived carrying the Daily Prophet, the wizarding newspaper, in its beak. After paying the owl, Hermione glanced at the front page before gasping out in shock. In bold lettering across the front read:

Harry James Potter is Missing!
At seven-thirty in the morning of August eleventh, Harry Potter, 14, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived, went missing from his place of residence at 4 Privet Drive in Surrey, England. Shortly after, Aurors arrived at the scene to find Mr. Potter's guardians, Mr. Vernon Dursley, his wife and son murdered by Muggle weapons. The only things of Mr. Potter's that they could find beside his personal belongings in his bedroom were his wand and glasses. Although there were signs of heavy struggle, whatever happened to Mr. Potter caused his complete and total disappearance. Several neighbors reported at seeing an unmarked black van pull up alongside the Dursley home and two men using strange contraptions they called rifles (long metal wands that Muggles use to kill each other). One Mrs. Arabella Figg, who witnessed the whole interaction, reported seeing one of the men knock Mr. Potter unconscious after the Boy-Who-Lived had killed a man with a knife before Mr. Potter's assailants managed to subdue him and carry him into the van, which promptly departed. Figg refused to comment further on the topic, although she did say that she dearly hoped that wherever he is, Mr. Potter is alive and well.
If anyone has further information on Mr. Potter's whereabouts, please contact Amelia Bones at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Along with the report was a photograph of Harry posing awkwardly before the camera. Hermione recognized it as the one taken of him last year by Colin Creevey, one of the few pictures he posed for willingly. Then, rereading the article, Hermione gasped as the words "Mr. Potter killed a man" ran repeatedly through her mind. I'm so sorry Harry. How is he handling the fact that he killed someone. God I wish I could have helped him. Hermione thought to herself.

Just as she was about to come out of her reverie, two loud bangs rang out across the street. Startled, Hermione asked, "Hey mum, did someone's car backfire?" When she didn't hear a reply, Hermione called out again before investigating. To her horror, Hermione saw her mother lying dead on the floor, a bullet in her head and another in her chest. Hermione cried out "Mum!" before sprinting over to her mother.

Unfortunately, the young witch could do nothing, as her mother was already dead. Soon after, Hermione heard someone kick down the front door. Everything else blurred and Hermione began to see red. She managed to fight off the first masked man that tried to grab her and then disarmed a second man of his pistol. While the man was about to recover from being disarmed, Hermione raised the pistol, a SIG .40, and shot the man right between the eyes. She never even felt the gun recoil in her hands as time seemed to slow down for her as the man she shot fell to the floor. I'm a killer. I just murdered someone. Oh, please God help me. Hermione thought in despair, internally weeping about the deed she just committed. However, instead of freezing up, Hermione's body began acting on its own accord, shooting the first man, the one who had kicked the door in through his heart. He died instantly, and again time slowed for Hermione as the adrenaline raced through her veins. She shot nine more men that tried to grab her before her gun ran out of ammunition and forced her to pick up a knife. Hermione killed four more men with her knife before one of the men pressed a cloth soaked in chemicals to her face, slowly making her lose consciousness.

Even as Hermione's consciousness gave out, she silently swore to avenge her mother until the man pressing the cloth into her face growled, "You put up quite a fight, more so than your dear daddy. I have to admit, it was quite fun watching as his car was blown sky high. For a witch, I was hoping to see more MAGIC. Oh well, you can't always get what you want." At this, Hermione swore that she would hunt those monsters that destroyed her life down. Then, she would slowly destroy them one by one.

All she needed to do was wait for the right moment.

Here is the first chapter for the plot bunny I had in my head. I cannot guarantee quick updates, but I will try to update often. As for plot, Harry and Hermione will both learn about their heritage and fight those who abducted them. As for pairings, I am going with Harry/Hermione. Next chapter will constitute Ron bashing. I mean no offense to Ron fans, but he does seem a little untrustworthy and let's face it, he never was a good friend to either Harry or Hermione. If you have any suggestions, feel free to shoot me a PM, as I will need help with Assassin's Creed lore. R&R, praise or flame, it matters not to me.