Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Time Traveling Screws Everything Up, Part One ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Title: Time Traveling Screws Everything Up, Part One
Authoress: Demoness-MarlstonWells69ner a.k.a PureMiko_Kagome69ner
Summary: Dark!Hermione! Seventeen-year-old Harry Potter and eighteen-year-old Hermione Granger had a fight. The next morning, Hermione found herself transported to the past and she had no idea how she got there. Harry blames himself that she left or suddenly disappeared without a note or anything. Where is Hermione?!?!
Rating: Mature to adult (M15 to NC-17)
Warnings: Language, slightly dark, characters’ deaths, possibly bashings here and three, lemons, limes, rape, M/F, M/F/M, WIP, AU
Pairings: … Hnnn … I’ll tell you/post it up on Chapter three, four, or five, or something. :D
Authoress’ Note: This is my fifth fanfiction stories, my third Harry Potter story, and my first ‘Going/Traveling to the past’ story. If the story sounds … off, I’m so sorry! Don’t kill me! In need of two Betas! Check my profile on Betas! PLEASE!! And – PAIRINGS MAY CHANGE!!!!
Those of you who are new and never read any of my stories before, I would like to say; Welcome and if you like, please read my profile. Skim over them or whatever. My stories are all odd, but in a good and interesting way, I think. My favourite character is Hermione Granger, so she’s always the main character when I write a Harry Potter story. I write mature stories, high Teen to Mature. Most of my stories will have bashings here and there, that does include Ginevra Virginia Weasley. Yes, I know Ginny’s middle name is not Virginia, but Molly, but I am changing it. So if you like/love/adore her, you better read all the warnings. I will, probably tell you if there’s any bashings or not, so you can skip them. Those of you who hate Ginny with a passion, like me, please read ‘It’s All About Hermione’. That story has Ginny bashings, all of my readers love them and are asking for more. I suck at grammar and past/future tenses, so I’m sorry and that is why I need BETAS!! Check profile for more info about Betas. :)
For this story, I started out on doing it at school. I write it on WordPad, because I’m so used to it, but I check the spelling and whatnot on Corel WordPerfect 12. So, I think that spelling shouldn’t be a real-slash-big issue here. :)Posted On: Sunday, June 8, 2008

I FORGOT TO MENTION; THIS STORY WON’T CONTINUED UNTIL MY OTHER TWO STORIES ARE COMPLETED. BUT IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE A BETA FOR THIS STORY, TELL ME NOW SO YOU CAN EDIT THIS CHAPTER!!

Chapter One: Argument, Fight & The Past

Disclaimer: If I say I own Harry Potter and the Potterverse, would you believe me? If no, you’re smart. if yes, damn, you’re delusional!

“Merlin, Hermione!” said Harry, sitting on the scarlet couch in Gryffindor Common Room with his two best friends since he was eleven, Ronald (Ron) Weasley and Hermione Granger. “Shut up.”

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, both seventeen and both are the Queen of Gossips, sat not far from the Golden Trio. Both are looking for a good gossip and the Golden Trio is perfect! Both leaned in eagerly.

“But Harry!” said Hermione, seriously. “You need to train! I know many spells that you could use against Voldemort!”

Lavender and Parvati looked at each other and let out a small and short scream. Harry, Hermione, and Ron turned to the Gossip Duo, but soon dismissed them. The Duo are probably screaming about magazines, boys, or something. But they’re wrong and the girls listened on eagerly, not noticing that they were joined by the boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom. All three are seventeen and are in their last year at Hogwarts.

“Ohh, who cares?!” asked Ron.

Hermione threw him a dirty look. “Voldemort does!” snapped Hermione. “He’s forty years older than us! Harry should learn more spells to protect himself better.”

“So what?!” snapped Harry, quite loudly. A few students, who were clearly younger than him and the others, fled the room. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“Harry,” soothed Hermione. “I know that you’re alive, but it would be much better if you learn more spells. Voldemort might turn hard on you.”

“Hermione, just stop it,” snapped Harry, irritated. “How do you know that he’ll attack me, again, this year? You don’t know what you’re talking about. So, just shut up.” He sighed and sagged in the couch and closed his eyes.

Hermione masked her hurt quickly – being friends and are surrounded by males, she’s pretty good at it – and she huffed. “He attack you every year since First Year to Sixth Year,” stated Hermione. “Why would this year be any different? Besides, this is our last year of Hogwarts. He’ll might even seriously kill you this time. No small games.”

Hermione had Lavender and Parvati bouncing in their seat, impatiently.

What is she talking about? thought Parvati.

Come on, come on! thought Lavender, impatiently. Tell us already!

Harry stiffened. “Well then, I’ll have to try harder, won’t I?” asked Harry, his voice turning colder and colder as each word passed through his lips.

“Yes, and begin training,” said Hermione. “For the three of us. We need real and damaging spells.” She thought outloud.

Harry ginned. “The three of us?” repeated Harry, nastily. “You’re not going. I don’t need you. Who do you think you are? My Mother?” He sneered.

Hermione, Ron, Lavender, Parvati, Seamus, Dean, and Neville gasped at him. They can’t believe he just said that.

“B-but H-H-Harry – ” started Hermione.

“Oh, give it up, Granger,” said Harry, cruelly. “You don’t know anything or everything. You are pathetic! You are a bookworm. You are a prude. You are an annoying Know-It-All!”

Hermione’s lips trembled, but she wasn’t crying. The other Seventh Year students were shocked at Harry’s bluntness and coldness. Lavender and Parvati slowly begin to glare at The-Boy-Who-Lived – it’s a Gryffindor thing. Gryffindor girls stick together, even if they don’t like each other. The female Gryffindors got each other’s backs, in and out of Gryffindor’s Territories.

When Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati were a younger, they didn’t get along, but they very slowly did. They decided to, at least, try to get along since they will have years and years spent in each other’s presence. They’re friends now, not like the friendship between Harry, Hermione, and Ron, but friends. Nothing really changed; Lavender and Parvati are still boy-crazies, Gossip Queens, and material girls, but they tuned it down to a minimum, and Hermione is still a bookworm and a Know-It-All, but less … intense. She leaned to chill, relax, and take a break once-in-a-while.

“Oh, and you’re a Mudblood!” said Harry cruelly and in disgust.

Ron, Lavender, Parvati, Seamus, Dean, and Neville’s jaws dropped in surprise and shocked. Harry just called one of his best friend, Hermione, a Mudblood! The world’s going to end! Lavender and Parvati glared at him even more.

Is he on an extreme PMS or something? thought Lavender and Parvati, seriously.

Ron froze in fear and he quickly shooed the younger years away. Things are about to get ugly. He felt sorry for Harry, Hermione is ‘scary’ when angry. Brilliant, but ‘scary’. He moved away from him and went to his classmates instead.

Hermione didn’t do or say anything, well, she’s trying not to, but it’s very hard. She changed a lot in the past few years. During the summer of last year and this year,, she had a make-over, thanks to her cousins, Samantha and Sandra. She is no longer the bushy-hair Know-It-All, she’s now a sexy Know-It-All. Her hair now reaches to her hips and are slightly curly. She has a body that everybody wants, but no one got to see it because of her Hogwarts Uniform.

“What’s the matter, Granger?” mocked Harry. “Cat got your tongue?”

Over the years, Hermione had been practicing some Dark/Dangerous Spells and Dark/Dangerous Potions, ok, a lot of Dark/Dangerous Spells and Dark/Dangerous Potions. Her power/magic and spells are to be reckon with. She took it upon herself to learn them because of three main and very important reasons. She’s a Muggleborn, she’s one of Harry Potter’s best friend, and she’s the smartest witch in centuries. She may not look and act like it, but she’s very powerful. Obviously more so than Harry, who’s body acting like a regular teenager and not a hero that he was born to be.

Over the yeas, she had been cast to the side, well, not anymore! If Harry wants to play, then lets play!Hermione smirked at Harry. Ron shrank into his chair and closed his eyes tightly. The other five Seventh Years recoiled back; Hermione, sweet Hermione, just smirked! Uh oh?

“Yes, I’m a bookworm,” agreed Hermione, nodding. “But what about you? You are no hero.” She shakes her head. “Instead of training, you want to act like a child. How many people do you want to die before you get off of your lazy arse and do something?” She laughed hollowly. “A dozen? A hundred? A thousand? A Million? Or a billion? When are you going to grow up and be a real man? It is no wonder why the Ministry and the Daily Prophet always bash you. You’re pathetic. You’re also very stupid and oblivious.” She looked at him and grinned, showing off her pearly white teeth. “Hey, if you want to be hated, fine. While you’re at it, go kill yourself. Or Voldemort – ” Six Gryffindors flinched. “ – can kill you. It’ll probably be more painful and bloody, but oh well. You’ll die at last.” She shrugged like it’s a casual thing. “What’s the matter, Potter?” She mocked and she pat his surname like it was poison. “Snake got your tongue?”

All seven gasped and stared at her in shock and surprise. Who knew Hermione Granger can swear and be cruel/mean? You learn something new everyday.

Lavender, Parvati, and Neville silently cheered for her. Seamus, Dean, and Ron didn’t know who to cheer for. Harry or Hermione? Ron was amaze, he didn’t know she can talk and act like that. It looks like Harry thought of the same thing.

“Well?” drawled Hermione, lazily.

She sounded freakishly like Malfoy, thought Ron, disgustingly. Bad thoughts. He made a face. Never thinking of that ever again!

Harry fumed silently. He withdraw his wand and pointed at Hermione. “Expelliarmus!” said Harry, violently.

“Progeto,” said Hermione, simply. A barrier sprung into action and the spell bounced off. “That’s it? Pathetic.”

Harry’s vein popped somewhere. “Stupefy!” said Harry. “Reducto!”

Again, the two spells bounced off of Hermione’s barrier. She looked at him boringly and then let out a small yawn.

“How are you alive to this very day?” asked Hermione, incredulously. “You suck and your spells are weak. How you escape Voldemort – ” The six Gryffindors flinched and Harry fumed. “ – is beyond me.” She shook her head, sadly. “My turn.” She grinned. “Expelliarmus! Reducto!”

Harry’s wand flew away and across the room. He was blast away and hit the wall, hard. Hermione tutted and walked up the stars to the Girls’ Dormitory.

“Some hero you turned out to be,” said Hermione and then, she disappeared out of their sight.

Harry coughed and glared at Hermione’s disappearing shadow. “Bitch,” coughed Harry.

Ron quickly helped him up. “You okay, mate?” asked the lanky red-head.

“No, I’m not okay!” snapped Harry.

Ron backed away and Harry got up, picked up his wand, and went upstairs to the Boys’ Dormitory. Lavender and Parvati went to the Girls’ Dormitory to see it Hermione need someone to talk to. Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville didn’t know what to do. Should they stay where they are or should they go upstairs?

“Hermione?” asked the two girls, opening the door to the Seventh Year Girls’ Dormitory. “Are you ok?”

They looked at Hermione’s bed, which has the scarlet curtains closed around it. The two sighed, knowing that Hermione can’t hear them. Hermione had charmed the curtains to be silent. Any noise from outside of the curtains can’t be heard, unless if someone is in danger or something. The same with their curtains. She charmed the curtains for them too. They went to their own beds and draw the curtains around their bed and space.

A good five minutes later, the door opened and she went in, all red in the face. The younger girl, by a year, stomped to Hermione’s spot and wrenched the curtains apart. There was Hermione, her face on the pillow and her back to her. She was still in her Hogwarts uniform.

“Hermione Granger!” snapped the younger red-faced witch.

“What?!” asked Hermione, sitting up on her bed. “What do you want, Ginvera?!”

Sixteen-year-old Ginerva Virginia Weasley was red in the face and was glaring down at Hermione, who just raised an eyebrow up at her. Ginerva, also known as Ginny, was angry. As soon as she was in the Common Room, she felt a lot of tension in the room and demanded her bother, Ron, of what had happened. Ron and the boys told her the whole story and by the end of it, she as red in the face … by anger.

That buck-tooth bookworm had no right, thought Ginny, angrily, walking up to the Girls’ Staircase. She had no right to say all those things to my Harry. She fumed slightly.

“Well?” asked Hermione, impatiently. “What do you want?” She repeated.

Ginny looked at the older witch, stonily. “Harry,” said Ginny, simply.

“Oh, him,” said Hermione, boringly and flatly. “What about him?” She asked as she put her books away, alphabetically.

“What were you thinking?!” yelled Ginny, upset. “What were you thinking? Embarrassing and yelling him like that?!” She demanded.

Hermione sighed. “Did he send you?” asked Hermione. “If he did, don’t bother. I’m not apologizing.”

“He didn’t,” said Ginny. “I want you to know that you have no right to talk to him like you did. Who do you thi – ”

Hermione zoned out a bit here. Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah, thought Hermione, boringly. Does she think that I’m stupid? I already know that she pretend to be my friend so she can get closer to Harry. She was never my friend, she was just using me.

When Hermione think it was enough, she interrupted Ginny’s ranting by laughing. It wasn’t a warm and loving laughter however, it was a cold, unfeeling, and hollow laugher. “You’re trying to suck up to him,” said Hermione, amused. “Ginny. Give it up. He doesn’t like you in that way. He dumped you two years ago. Stop making a fool of yourself.” She almost laughed at Ginny’s expression. “Don’t bother, Ginny. You were never my friend. You were just using me to get closed to your bank and fame. Well, Ginerva, you seem to forget; I’m the smartest witch in centuries. The first time I saw you, I know that you’re the kind of person that uses people, Ginerva. Oh, and in case you don’t know. The Potter men marries SMART women. And lets face it; you’re not smart.” She smirked at the pissed off female Weasley. “Let me tell you, Potter men, when they’re in Hogwarts, they’re immature and pranksters – the whole lot of them. They dated dumb-slash-stupid girls, smart girls, sweet girls, weird girls, rude girls, and more, but they only marry SMART girls. And again; you so don’t fit that category!” She smiled at Ginny unpleasantly. “Now, goodnight.” The curtains closed itself.

Ginny glared at the closed curtains in front of her. “Bitch,” huffed Ginny, angrily, stomping out of the room and then slamming the door shut, hard.

– In the Past –

A handsome Head Boy walked in the corridor, boringly. The Headmaster called for him, so he was walking to the Headmaster’s Office, slowly. The Head Boy has slightly messy black hair and blue eyes.

Honestly, thought the handsome young man. What does he want this time?

He scowled in his mind, but outside, he kept his well-practiced neutral-look. Whatever it is, it better be worth it, concluded the Head Boy.

The damn Headmaster just had to make her Head Girl. A Gryffindor. A filthy Mudblood. Out of the Pure-Blood girls in Hogwarts, he chose a Mudblood. One of the uglist Mudblood girls that has no decency – around him – to boot! At first, he thought it was a joke, a nasty joke, but it wasn’t. He had to share the Common Room and the bathroom with a Mudblood. How disgraceful!

He walked a bit faster and then it happened. Something fell on him, causing him to fall flat on his arse. It wasn’t heavy or something. It just caught him by … surprise. He quickly sat up and looked at his lap. Correction; it wasn’t ‘something’, it was a someone, a young female to be exact.

Two things were very wrong with his … picture. One, the girl appeared from out of thin air, oh, and on him. Two, she’s bleeding somewhere and she’s bleeding a lot. There’s a puddle around them now.

A portrait came to life and left the frame. The Head Boy withdraw his wand and fired some quick, but weak Healing charms.

Footsteps were heard. He could bet that Albus Dumbledore were one of the people … Turning around the corner, he saw four people walking towards them, quickly. Three professors and a worried school nurse. Professors Dippet, Dumbledore, and McGonagall and Madam Belle.

“Oh, my,” said Madam Belle. “We have to take her to the Hospital Wing, Headmaster.”

Dippet nodded, levitated the girl, and looked at the drops of blood. He squinted his eyes. Two trunks.

“I presume those belong to this young lady,” said Headmaster Dippet, nodding at the two trunks.

McGonagall scourgified the small puddle of blood before she levitated the trunks. “I certainly hope so,” said McGonagall.

“Now is not the time!” snapped Madam Belle, impatiently. “Hope later! Right now; Hospital Wing!”

“Yes, of course,” said the slightly bald wizard. He turned to the Head Boy. “Thank you, Mr Riddle.”

The Head Boy nodded curtly at the older wizard. He turned to leave, sneering at Dumbledore when he passed his Transfiguration professor.

“Who do you think she is, Albus?” questioned McGonagall, curiously.

Dumbledore looked up at the floating girl. “I don’t know, Minerva, I don’t know,” said Dumbledore, calmly. “We’ll find out when she awakes.”

XxXxXxXxXx

Ah, shit, thought Hermione, slowly waking up. Ow! I’m … hurt … ? She opened her eyes slowly and saw the room that she’s in; shit. Something tells her that she’s not in the Girls’ Dormitory in Gryffindor, anymore. Then where am I?

Hermione sat up and looked around. She’s in the Hospital Wing? Why is she in the Hospital Wing?

“Lay down, child,” said a voice from behind her, calmly. “You’ve had quite an accident this morning, young lady.” The voice sounded like a male’s voice.

Hermione stiffened and turned around sharply. Professor Dumbledore?!?! screamed Hermione, mentally. But he’s dead! I think. Am I dead?!

Behind her, was Professor Albus Dumbledore, but it looks different, a bit. He looks … younger … fifty years younger to be exact.

“P-professor?! stuttered Hermione. “Ugh.” She shook her head as a headache came on. “W-what’s t-today’s date?” She put her head in her heads.

Dumbledore didn’t look bother when she asked the date. “Why, it’s Thursday, September 21, 1944,” announced Dumbledore, cheerfully. “Exactly two weeks since the school started.”

Hermione felt a bit faint. 19-1944? thought Hermione, slowly as if her brain was registering the information. 1944?! She screamed.

“Albus?” came another voice, the different is that this voice is a female. It came from a nearby room and is coming closer. “Is she awake?” She came into the room, carrying a tray of vital potions. “My Goodness! She is awake! Albus! Why didn’t you tell me?!” She scowled at Dumbledore.

Hermione shook her head. Never thought he would be bossed by anyone else, but Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, sniggered Hermione. She looked at the woman. She’s obviously the school’s nurse for this time-line.

Unfortunately, the nurse thought she had a headache. She took a vital from a cart and held it out to Hermione to take.. “Go ahead and drink it, dear,” smiled the brunette nurse. “It’s a Anti-Headache Potion.”

Hermione took her potion, gave it a small sniff, and drink its contents when she was satisfied that it was a Anti-Headache Potion. The headache slowly ebbed away. The potion sure works fast.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” said Hermione, politely. “The potion sure works fast. And it wasn’t his fault, Ma’am. He just answered one of my question.”

“Oh, pish-posh!” waved the nurse. “He knows better. Don’t worry, dear, it’s not your fault.” She gave Dumbledore a piercing look. “Now, I’m sure you need to talk to Dumbledore, I’ll leave you two be, but I’ll be back!” She gave him another look and walked off.

“Ma’am?” called Hermione. The nurse stopped, turned around, and looked at her. “May I have your name?”

The nurse nodded and smiled at her. “I’m Madam Belle, dear,” said the dark-haired woman. She left the room and closed the door behind her.

The room was quiet for several minutes. “Now, who are you, child?” askedDumbledore, calmly and patiently. “What happened to you this morning?”

“I’m Hermione Granger, Professor,” said Hermione. “I was born on September 19, 1979. I’m from the future.”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows shot up to his hair-line as he stood there, shocked. Hermione don’t know if she should laugh or congratulate herself on making Dumbledore shocked and speechless for once.

“I-I s-see,” said Dumbledore after clearing this throat. “Lemon Drops?” Hermione politely denied. “Is the future bad, Miss Granger?” She nodded, once. “I see. See me, later, Miss Granger. In my office.”

XxXxXxXxXx

Two hours later, Hermione found herself in Dumbledore’s office and sitting on a chair. She sat on the chair, calmly, even with him looking at her critically.

“Tell me a bit about yourself, Miss Granger,” said Dumbledore, finally.

Hermione cocked her head to one side. “I’m a Muggleborn and was a Gryffindor,” said Hermione. “My parents were teeth Healers. My best friends were Harry and Ron. I love Hogwarts, I love to learn, I love books and to read.”

Dumbledore nodded. Bookworm, thought Dumbledore. Mudblood. Another Miss Traynor … perhaps.

Dumbledore’s brain worked overtime. “Miss Granger,” said Dumbledore. “I assume you’re in your Seventh Year at Hogwarts?” The young witch nodded. “I have to ask; will Grindelwald be defeated in the future?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes,” said Hermione. “In fact, he will be gone next year.”

“I see,” said Dumbledore, stroking his long silver beard. He did some quick thinking and sighed. “Miss Granger, you have no choice, but to attend school in this time.” He looked at her gravely. “I’m afraid we would have to change your name and looks, for safety reason.”

“I understand, sir,” said Hermione, nervously. “She then asked a question that would soon change her life forever. “What do you have in mind?”

Dumbledore smiled cheerfully. “I have two vital potions here for you,” said Dumbledore, bringing up two vital potions up to his desk. “One is a potion of … one of my associates’ blood.” He gestured to a light blue potion with a slight mixture of pink (light red).

Hermione could sense his disdain. ‘Associate’, right, I’m sure it is, thought Hermione.

“This potion will turn you into a Pure-Blood,” said Dumbledore, seriously. “Permanently.” He looked at Hermione, who was looking at the potion and was looking thoughtful. “The other potion changes your looks, only slightly and temporarily.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed, unnoticed by Dumbledore. “Who’s blood is it?” asked Hermione, her stomach jumping and doing flip-flops. “What will happened?”

“The blood belongs to the Marlston-Wells,” said Dumbledore. “Grace and Xavier Marlston-Wells. They had a daughter, who went into hiding as soon as she was born. She’s dead now. She died a week later after her parents. Fortunately, no one knows this tiny information.”

Hermione could’ve snorted, but she didn’t. ‘No one knows this tiny information’ her arse. Of course people would’ve found out as wealthy as the Marlston-Wells’ are. If she didn’t know Dumbledore better, she would’ve believed him. It’s too bad that she knows him well enough than to believe him. Her guess is that he killed them. She could see that the older wizard is up to something … again.

“I see,” said Hermione, slowly. “How and why did they die? What is the deceased baby’s name?”

Dumbledore looked away from her. “Her name was Celeste Calista Marlston-Wells,” answered Dumbledore, uncomfortably.

“Celeste Calista,” repeated Hermione, testing the names out. “What a pretty name. Do you know why they died?”

“Indeed,” said Dumbledore. “Grace and Xavier were hunted down and killed. The young one died of a Muggle flu.”

Hermione noticed that he didn’t say Celeste’s name. Probably feeling guilty, concluded Hermione. Guilty of killing an innocent baby.

“How unfortunate,” said Hermione, sadly. And I hope that the family will forgive me, thought Hermione. “I accept.” She quickly wondered why the Marlston-Wells and why not a poorer Pure-Blood family, but quickly pushed the thought away. She drank the potion in two large gulps. “Ugh.” She made a face of disgust.

Hermione put the empty vital back down on the desk, picked up the other vital potion and drank it down. The change in the potion were immediate. Her hair was a shade or two lighter, she was also an inch or two taller, and her freckles on her face disappeared. She knew that the blood potion needs at least, four hours to go through her body and slowly changing her blood type … permanently.

Dumbledore smiled happily. “Excellent,” said Dumbledore. “Now, Miss Marlston-Wells, you’ll be sorted into your House tomorrow morning.”

Hermione started. “Can’t you just put me into Gryffindor?” asked Hermione, frowning.

“I’m afraid not, Miss Marlston-Wells,” said Dumbledore. “Now, I should take you to see Professor Dippet now. He’s the Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

“Ok,” said Hermione, standing up. “Is he expecting us?”

XxXxXxXxXx

Hermione stepped into Dippet’s circular office and looked around the room. Whereas Dumbledore’s offices (from both times and both rooms) were clean, full of books, and oddities, Dippet’s office is slightly messy, full of books on one side, and full of Potions on the other side and he also has a few junks here and there.

Headmaster Armando Dippet cleared his throat. “Dear child,” said Dippet. “Please, come in and take a seat!” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Make yourself at home! Don’t be shy!” He said cheerfully. “I’m Armando Dippet, Headmater at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Who are you, dear child?” He said, his voice still cheerful.

Well, this is different, thought Hermione.

“Pleasure to meet you, Professor Dippet,” said Hermione, nodding once curtly. “I’m Celeste Marlston-Wells.”

“Marlston-Wells?” repeated Dippet, dumbly. “Welcome Miss Marlston-Wells! Welcome to Hogwarts! No one had heard from you since seventeen years ago! The pleasure is all mine, I’m positive! What can I help you with today?”

Hermione just stared at the current Headmaster. Is this guy serious? thought Hermione incredulously, still staring at the slightly bald wizard with a small sign of puzzlement.

Normally, any other Headmaster or Headmistress asked a bunch of questions when they see a stranger in their school – Muggle schools included – but not Armando Dippet! He act like a teenager! How in the world did he become Headmaster of Hogwarts? Honestly!

“Umm, yes,” said Hermione. “It was my parents’ wish that I attend Hogwarts when I’m seventeen.”

“I see,” said Dippet, slightly scratching his bald head. “What really concerns me, Miss Marlston-Wells, is that it seems you drop on our Head Boy today, from out-of-no-where.”

Hermione flushed, lightly. “I apologize,” said Hermione. “My parents’ attorney made a Portkey for me.” She explained. “Without warning me, he thrust it at me and the next thing I know, I was in the Hospital Wing.” She saw Dumbledore, who was standing next to Dippet, nodding his approval at her. “I’m sorry, Headmaster Dippet, if I was more aware, I wouldn’t dropped on the Head Boy. I’m so sorry.”

Dippet waved off the apology. “Nonsense,” said Dippet. “It’s quite alright. No harm done.” He smiled cheerfully. “I’m curious; who took care of you all these years?”

Hermione smiled sadly. “A sweet couple adopted me,” said Hermione, her tone small. “Coincidentally, they’re Squibs. As soon as I turned eleven, my attorney contacted me. One of my parents’ wishes, they want me to have private tutors until I turn seventeen. They even picked some for me already.”

Both wizards nodded, but for completely different reasons. Both were impressed, but for different reasons. Dippet’s impressed that Grace and Xavier Marlston-Wells could be so thorough – and they’re dead. Dumbledore’s impressed that Hermione could lie and make up/think so quickly. Impressive.

“Thorough, aren’t they?” asked Dippet. “Your parents.” The brunette nodded, proudly. “Well, everything’s in order and perfect here! I don’t – Albus, your next class is in five minutes!”

Dumbledore frowned a bit before it disappear. “Ah, of course,” said Dumbledore, not really wanting to leave. “How could I forget?” He looked at Hermione before walking towards the door. “Good bye, Armando. Miss Marlston-Wells. I’ll see you in class.” He opened the door and left, closing it quietly behind him. He narrowed his eyes. “She have to stay away from the Head Boy.” He stated to himself out-loud.

He could feel – sense her power and it’s powerful! If she and he team up; it won’t be good. The whole world will end … or wouldn’t end up in the way that he (Dumbledore) and everyone else wanted. No, he couldn’t let that happen. Those two cannot be friends – or anything else but regular classmates and/or enemies. He prefer them to be enemies above anything else. The idea is just catastrophe!

The young witch was a Gryffindor in her time. He is positive that she’ll be in Gryffindor, again. He’s confident that she can’t change that much of her seven years in Hogwarts in the future. Yes, things will go his ways, again. Just the way he liked it.

– Back With Hermione & Dippet –

“As I was saying, started Dippet as soon as the door closes. “I don’t know what classes you want to take.”

“Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy,” stated Hermione, counting her fingers. “All advance. Please.”

“All advance?” repeated Dippet, impressed. “Impressive. No one else, but one student has the exact classes as you do. No one else, but even our own Head Girl, Miss Traynor. Quite impressive, Miss Marlston-Wells, quite impressive indeed. Lets hope you succeed.” He smiled.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” said Hermione. “Sir, when will I get Sorted? Right now?” She asked, hopefully.

“Oh no,” said Dippet, shaking his head. “You’ll be Sorted tomorrow morning in front of the whole school. It must be done. Don’t be nervous.”

“I guess … ” said Hermione. “Alright. How will I learn and stay here without any of my things?” She asked, frowning. “I don’t have anything with me when I was whisked here.”

“Really?” asked Dippet. “How odd. Your trunks are here. They’re under the bed that you were on. While it didn’t arrive with you; it’s still here.”

“Really?” asked Hermione, her eyes lit up. She has quite a bit of money (Galleons, Sickles, Knuts, and Muggle money) in her trunks. “Thank Merlin!”

Dippet chuckled lightly. “Your trunks, Miss Marlston-Wells,” started Dippet. “Cannot be opened by us. Why is that?”

“Oh, that is simple, sir,” said Hermione, casually. “I cast a simple spell on them. It just means that my trunks are full.” She lied. “My guardians keep on packing my things in them for me.” She explained. “So I cast the spell. My trunks will close and look itself when it’s full. Now, no one else can it, except me.”

Dippet raised an eyebrow. “That is quite impressive,” said Dippet. Hermione nodded her thanks. “Well, miss Marlston-Wells, there’s still plenty of time left. Do you want to go to Diagon Alley to buy your books and supplies.”

“Sure,” said Hermione nodding. “Might as well get it over with.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

A/N: What do you think of Dippet? He’s an idiot, isn’t he? Is he really an idiot or is he just pretending? What do you think? Remember, this is a Dark Hermione fic. So OOC (Out of Character) and AU (Alternative Universe). This chapter is the first chapter, so it’s not that bad. It will get worse. So if you’re not old enough, please leave or if you’re unsure, read the warnings from above. Since this is a dark fic, this will include rape and sex scenes. So no children/kids under seventeen or eighteen until you are of age in your country. Those of you who are young and won’t listen (I know I didn’t when I was a bit younger), don’t complain, flame, or blah-blah-blah. Suck it up. I’m writing this story. If you don’t like it, tough luck and leave. I did warn you. Two times, but you didn’t listen/read. Who’s fault is that? Yours.

This story is a Ginny Weasley bashing story, but since this story is also a Time Traveling story, her bashes won’t come until Hermione is back in the future. :) So sorry about her bashing if you’re looking forward to it. But there will be other characters bashings. Oh, yes, before I forget, Dumbledore will not appear to be the Good Guy. He will be killed – later on. In this story, not in the sequels.

Again: DARK HERMIONE FIC! As in a Slytherin-like Hermione!

I FORGOT TO MENTION; THIS STORY WON’T CONTINUED UNTIL MY OTHER TWO STORIES ARE COMPLETED. BUT IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE A BETA FOR THIS STORY, TELL ME NOW SO YOU CAN EDIT THIS CHAPTER!!

Please read and review! No flames! If you have questions, don’t hesitant to ask! I’ll post your answers on the next updated chapter!. :)