Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J.K. Rowling. All characters in this story were created and are owned by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim them as my own or claim the world they are represented in as my own. This story was invented by me, and is not portrayed or believed to be part of J.K. Rowling's story. This story is purely for entertainment purposes. I would like to thank J.K. Rowling for creating the magical world of Harry Potter, and introducing me to a story which continues to make an impact on my life today.

Prologue

OOOOOOOOOOO

End of Sixth Year:

It had been six days. The day after, she was still in denial. Hermione still had yet to accept the dreadful truth of what happened on the Astronomy Tower. When Harry recapped the events of that night, she simply shook her head. He must have seen differently. It must have been a cruel joke. Perhaps Dumbledore knew what was going to happen, so he faked his death to escape and draw attention away from the innocent students. Surely. She could imagine him coming up with a plan like that.

The students and staff acted similarly. Everyone was quiet. The air heavy. Hermione ventured out to inspect the damage the castle endured from the Death Eaters. The Great Hall was hit worst, so naturally the students' meals were being served in the common rooms. As she wandered the corridors, she unconsciously made her way to the great statue guarding the Headmaster's office. She was sure he was at his desk, eating lemon drops and writing an array of magical theories.

The second day, she became angry. She sat in front of the great stone gargoyle for hours. How dare he die? How dare he leave when they needed him most? She cried angry tears at his funeral that evening.

The following day, she paced outside his office. Maybe she could convince Harry to use her time turner and stop it from happening. Maybe she could do it herself. Maybe she could keep Malfoy from letting the Death Eaters in. She could tell him she would start doing poorly in class if he would just stop trying to help Voldemort. She would've done anything to have her Headmaster back.

The fourth day, the fear set in. How could they possibly win the war without him? How could they, when he couldn't? How could Harry find the Horcruxes without Dumbledore's guidance? That day, she didn't leave her bed. She was too sad. Too afraid.

The fifth day, it was finally real. She felt numb. She didn't think. She didn't speak. There was nothing left to say.

On the final day of term, the train would arrive in Hogsmeade at half past noon. That morning, she finally approached the great statue, said the password, and entered. It was vacant, out of respect, though she was sure by September McGonagall would have settled in.

She wandered around his great office, enjoying her memories and mourning them. She tinkered with several of his inventions and muggle contraptions. She observed his portrait for several moments, wiping away tears. He was sleeping, and looked so very peaceful.

She took a seat at his desk, and began looking at all the papers that cluttered it. Once in a while, she'd find little notes he'd written on things, and laugh, remembering his unusual sense of humor. While rummaging his things, she came across a journal. She pulled it out of its drawer and sat it on the desk.

Would it be wrong to read his journal? She wondered.

She was startled when she heard his voice behind her, "I always found I could organize my thoughts more efficiently when I wrote them down."

She spun, "Professor, I didn't…"

"Nonsense, you should have it. After all, great minds do think alike," he winked at her, "You may find use of it."

Winter 1997:

Hermione had spent the past several months hunting Horcruxes with Harry and Ron. They'd discovered Umbridge had the Locket, and devised a plan to sneak into the Ministry and snatch it. Naturally, their plan went down the drain after arriving. When they barely escaped from the Ministry, Yaxley had a firm hold on Ron. Harry dropped her at Grimmauld Place, and disapparated away with Ron and the man from the Ministry.

Since then, she'd been sending Kreacher to rescue known prisoners, as his Elf magic could get through wards. Kreacher had slowly begun to tolerate Hermione, which she thought was a huge step for him. He returned to Grimmauld from a rescue, with Luna Lovegood, Mr. Ollivander, and a goblin in tow. The goblin and Mr. Ollivander were healed, fed, and sent to another safe house. Luna opted to stay behind with Hermione, and continue to rescue others.

Once Luna had rested after being set free from Malfoy Manor, the two girls spent all their time together. One night, they were sitting by one of the fireplaces and eating a soup Kreacher had made.

"Do you think Harry will beat him?" she asked in her dreamy voice.

Hermione thought for a bit before responding. Harry was so young, and Voldemort was terribly powerful. Harry was too good to use dark curses, curses that may actually do damage. He didn't have the brother wand anymore, according to Luna, and he had already survived the curse twice. Once as a baby, and once in fourth year through priori incantatem. When would his luck run out?

She responded, "He stands as good a chance as any of us, if he completes our mission. If not…"

"We're all doomed," Luna finished.

Hermione hadn't ever truly thought of it before. It didn't seem real before. For the first time, she actually felt like she was in the middle of a war, and not on the winning side.

"Surely it's not so black and white," Hermione insisted, "There must be something we can do."

"We could go back to when he was a baby and just kill him," Luna said softly.

Hermione smacked her arm, "Luna! We can't kill a baby. Even if it is a dark bastard."

"Just a thought."

"According to the laws of time travel, one cannot travel to a time before they were born. They simply hit a brick wall at the time of birth."

Luna chuckled, "You know too much."

Hermione shrugged, "Dumbledore always said you can't bring back the dead so…"

"I think it was more of a moral thing. You see, when my mother died, my father used a time turner to go back in time and bring her back. But she ended up dying again the same way. It's too cruel to relive it more than once."

"That's awful!" Hermione exclaimed.

Luna nodded, "I'm sure there are other ways to do it. Dumbledore would have known a way; he just wouldn't have done it."

Later that night, Hermione couldn't stop having nightmares about Voldemort killing Harry and everyone she loved. She woke at midnight, deciding she couldn't sleep until she had a backup plan. She read through many books on time travel, not finding anything. Remembering Dumbledore's journal, she rummaged through her trunk until she found it. It was in that book, she found a solution. And she began to understand why you couldn't just bring back the dead.

She explained it to Luna the next day.

"You see, when you use a time turner, you're on a second plane, so to speak. There are two of you. You can make minor changes, but death isn't something you can change. It's a force of nature; it's destined on that plane.

"I've found something of Dumbledore's. A potion and a spell. It's some form of time travel, but it basically resets everything. It says right here 'resets the path of time, fate, and death.' From what I gather, it's not just one person, it's everyone. And there wouldn't be two of everyone running around. That is why one doesn't do this every time someone dies."

Luna asked a question Hermione had yet to think of, "Would you remember the future?"

"I'll have to read more, but this could work. If this war comes to the worst possible ending, I mean."


A/N: This chapter has not yet been edited, but has been submitted to my Beta. Look for the next chapter, coming soon!

Be honest, how do you feel about author's notes? Personally, when I read a fic, i tend to skip over them. Especially if they are lengthy. When I write, however, I understand why they are there.