Published at 27th of May 2024 12:15 am

Chapter 245: Of Future Pasts

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25 August 1994, Longbottom Manor

Hermione Granger woke up early in the morning. It was one of her new quirks after she got out of the diary, or maybe it was one of the modifications the Department of Mysteries did to her. Not that it mattered who did it, she just dealt with the consequences.

It was during the morning that she felt more like herself than ever, and not the impostor she played all day. Unfortunately, she wasn't the bright but naïve muggleborn anymore. She didn't have her blind faith in authority anymore, nor was she the lonely girl who wished to have friends more than anything.

In a way, she was grateful that her parents had forgotten about her, no matter how much that hurt her. It would have been worse to see them slowly realize just how much she had changed. They would never look at her with disgust, thinking that she was an impostor who had stolen their child away. Not that she could reverse it anyway. The memories that the obliviators had altered were traumatic on so many levels, and that alone had caused enough damage. Somehow undoing it, would not only require a master mind healer to do so, but would still provide a high risk of them just becoming catatonic.

Hermione had looked them up. They were alive, grieving, but they had moved on. It was better that way.

They would never see their daughter as a slave in everything but name.

She supposed she could understand Harry a lot better now. Everything was just clearer, after what the Unspeakables did to her. She was more logical and was able to somewhat understand his motivations. Harry's biggest fear was to end up in her fate and considering how Dumbledore acted, he was hoping to do the same to him, just not as literally.

She recognized that the Department of Mysteries was being lenient with her. They never really threatened to use the diary, where her soul resided, to keep her in line, but the unspoken threat was always there. Even her 'assignment' which was to study Neville Longbottom and help him achieve his 'destiny' was a way to help her acclimate to her new nature.

Apparently, her friend was part of a prophecy, and from basic deduction, it had probably had something to do with him defeating Lord Voldemort. She would help him because he was the only person she had left.

And in a way, she was also the only person he had left. Neville was getting better with the sessions with the mind healer, but it was still a long way away. Harry really had screwed him up, not that she could blame him. From the sound of it, Neville had been tricked by Riddle during the Chamber of Secrets and tried to betray Harry. The last Potter ended up using him as a scapegoat to avoid him being obliviated and to act as leverage against Dumbledore.

Unfortunately, Neville refused to believe the lie, making him look unhinged, which slowly started a campaign of public mockery. Then he ended up half-possessed by his scar, and almost killed another student in a duel, then cast the killing curse at Snape a few months later. Harry had made the effort to befriend the Longbottom scion, but it was obviously out of guilt than any sort of affection. It made sense in a weird way; the two boys' personalities were just not compatible. Harry was a pragmatic boy who was more interested in learning magic than making friends, and Neville was an optimistic extroverted boy who wanted people to see him for himself, not as the boy who lived.

All in all, as expected, their friendship imploded, Harry, having felt like he repaid whatever debt he owed Neville, who, in turn, felt betrayed by the Potter scion.

And now, Hermione had to pick up the pieces, while doing her best to pretend to be the girl before the diary. She was lucky that Neville wasn't really observant and that she hadn't met his grandmother before the diary incident.

In a way, pretending to be the old Hermione was very exhausting, but it healed a small crack inside her. Still, she sometimes still needed to relax, put away the mask, and just enjoy watching the world around her. It was a ritual that she performed every morning, just sitting there, watching the gardens in the Longbottom Manor.

It was at this time that she was truly grateful for not being stuck in the diary anymore, that a fake utopia was far worse than the real world. Inside the diary, Hermione hadn't truly been happy. In her world, she was the best student in her year, she lived in a world where muggleborns and purebloods were equal. It was just so… boring, so pointless. She lived in a perfect world, learned everything that was available – which she equated to be bits of Tom Riddle's knowledge at the time he made the diary – and barely felt any happiness.

However, she truly experienced happiness when she planted a few herbs with Neville in his greenhouse. It was odd, to say the least, that monotony and simplicity were just rewarding in a way that Hermione had never experienced before.

Speaking of Harry, it had been a surprise to see him during the Quidditch World Cup. She knew that he never particularly liked the sport, in fact, he seemed to dislike it quite a bit. She did miss the green-eyed boy, but it felt more distant than it was before the diary. It was odd that what Hermione often considered to be her greatest regret became nothing more than a mild heartache. The diary really put things into perspective.

Still, it was strangely exhilarating to see someone keep up with her after her enhancements. Even with the impressive control over her micro-expressions, Harry could still read her easily enough, quickly realizing her condition and the hold the Department of Mysteries had over her.

She would have liked to speak with him further, but she was strictly ordered by the department to avoid the Potter scion. It was probably because of the protection his guardian, Arcturus Black, gave him, but they were strangely wary of him for some reason in Hermione's personal opinion.

Not that her opinion meant anything with the leash around her neck. Still, for some reason, the Unspeakables hadn't contacted her for a couple of weeks. They were probably busy dealing with the aftermath of the attack on the Quidditch World Cup and the rumoured attack in the Department of Mysteries itself.

She didn't particularly care. In fact, she relished those rare moments of freedom before she would be given another task from the Unspeakables. With a deep sigh, she sipped the cup of tea the house elves had made for her and chose not to overthink things, and simply enjoy her morning.

Of course, it wasn't to be, since a strange voice spoke up with a mocking tone, "Well if it isn't the replacement…"

Hermione stiffened; she hadn't felt the woman sit next to her. It wasn't right… She noticed everything, "How…"

The woman interrupted her, "Oh, for all your intelligence, you still lack the proper experience to use your gifts…"

"Who the hell are you," Hermione screeched out.

She felt oddly vulnerable. She hated feeling vulnerable with a passion. Still, she controlled herself and decided to take a good look at her intruder.

It was a rather attractive woman in her late twenties or thirties with deep red hair and green eyes. She was wearing an odd red robe that matched her hair. But what grabbed her attention was the eyes… Green eyes, glowing and pulsing with power, closely resembling that of her first friend, "Lily Potter."

"It's Evans now, dearie. James tragically died on that fateful day in Godric's Hollows, and I was always rather attached to my last name. But a very nice deduction, nonetheless."

She was supposed to be dead and yet, without a doubt, the redhead was standing looking alive and well in front of Hermione, "You faked your death. You abandoned your own son…"

The redhead grimaced, "That was undesirable. Let's just say I was indisposed until now."

"Why are you here?"

She was being blunt, but she was having a bit of an issue processing the new information. Still, the former Potter Matriarch grinned mischievously, "Well, I wanted to meet my replacement. You know, so far, you're pretty disappointing, all things considered."

"Your replacement?"

"Well, you didn't seriously think you were the first project Athena, were you? Sure, they learned their lesson and chained you well enough. That Diary really did a number on you…"

The muggleborn stood silent, processing what the redhead had just revealed, "You betrayed the Unspeakables…"

"Well, not really. You do understand that once you're an asset to the Unspeakables, you will remain an asset until the day you die. I took offence to that. I won, but lost quite a bit of time with my son because of them…"

"You still haven't told Harry," Hermione deduced.

"He does have a bit of an independent streak… But I am planning for a nice friendly family reunion."

For some reason, the muggleborn didn't believe her. The redhead's expression had turned almost manic at the mention of her son. Now that she'd seen it, it was hard to unsee it. There was a gleam of madness in the woman's eyes, one that was carefully concealed, but it was still there, in the background.

The older witch then changed her expression to a nice one, "Well, as a nice predecessor, I decided to give you a hand… You see, I sort of don't like the Unspeakables, so I paid them another visit. They don't know it was me, of course, but I managed to procure this nice little thing."

Hermione's heart leapt in her chest at the sight of the familiar black diary that housed her very soul. Things started to make more sense… Lily Evans had attacked the Department of Mysteries, probably out of revenge, and in the meanwhile, she stole her diary. As far as the Unspeakables were concerned, she must have looked like a compromised asset. The person who held her soul could theoretically control her very being completely.

Hermione could understand the undertone in Evans' voice, something that she did not like to say the least. She chose to give herself more time to analyse the situation, "Why didn't they warn me, then?"

"I just broke into their headquarters. The Unspeakable rightfully assumed that I would be able to sneak into this place. The wards weren't all that bad, just not designed to stand against someone like me."

That made a lot of sense, "The Unspeakables will hunt you down."

"Oh, honey, they don't even know I'm alive. And even if they did, they wouldn't be able to do anything."

"You'd need an army to stop them…"

The redhead raised an eyebrow, "What makes you think I don't have one."

Well, shit. It looked like she had no real choice in the matter. Still, Evans was obviously competent, but unstable. It was a strange contrast with her son, who liked to be in complete control of himself. She also seemed to share his tendency towards bragging. Harry's greatest fault was his desire to show just how smart he was, but it was normally tempered by his desire to be underestimated. When people truly realized his true potential, he often liked to show his intelligence through his observation and deductions. It wasn't really a major fault, but no one was truly perfect. Lily Evans seemed to share this tendency of bragging, mixed with a form of sadism at knowing that there was nothing Hermione could do about it.

For now, she would analyse her captor and understand how she ticked. She could be patient enough. She would look for vulnerabilities and exploit them…

However, before she could say anything, the redhead grinned maliciously, "Oh, and just before you think about telling anyone about me…"

The older witch cut her hand and let her blood spill on the diary that absorbed it. Suddenly, Hermione felt something mess with her. It was like someone had put in a giant command in the back of her head, something that had made sense.

Processing what had happened, Hermione realized that she couldn't speak the truth of Lily Evans' survival to anyone. She gave the redhead a horrified look at the invasion of her very soul, "Oh, don't give me this look; I'm just being careful. You know what, you seem distressed, so I'm going to leave you to your thoughts. I'll be in touch."

And just like that a wave of red petals appeared out of thin air, and by the time they were blown by the wind, the red witch was nowhere to be found.

Yes, one thing was for certain. Hermione had a lot to think about.

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