Chapter Text
Hermione ranโran as fast as she could, fleeing from the Death Eaters. It had all become too much. Ron had died saving her from Nagini. Harry was locked in a desperate duel with Voldemort, but he was losingโbadly. She had lost so many friends, so many people she loved: Tonks, Remus, Fred, Ron, Neville, Sirius, Kingsley, Moody, Cedric, Seamus... and countless others. The war had taken nearly everything from her.
Hermione narrowly dodged the deadly spells hurled in her direction. She was badly injuredโcritically, evenโbut she kept moving. As she sprinted down a crumbling staircase, her foot caught, and she fell hard. Pain shot through her leg, but she forced herself up. Her arm throbbed where the "Mudblood" scar still burned, but she didn't have time to care. She couldn't afford to slow down. She needed a plan. She couldn't dieโnot yet.
She stumbled upon the Headmaster's office, her heart pounding with a flicker of hope. Just as she reached for the door, a sudden force blasted her backward. She was thrown through the air, slamming into the stone wall behind her. Pain exploded in her skull as blood began to trickle down her scalp. Gritting her teeth, she wincedโbut forced herself to lift her head and look forward.
It was Bellatrix Lestrangeโnรฉe Black. The deranged, sadistic woman who had once tortured Hermione and carved that lifelong scar into her skin. The sight of her sent a fresh wave of fear and fury through Hermione's battered body.
"Well, well... look who it isโthe filthy little Mudblood, skulking around like a rat," Bellatrix sneered, eyes wild with glee. "Tell me, why did you break into my vault? What did you steal, hmm? Didn't learn your lesson the first time, did you, Mudblood?"
"No, I didn't break in, and I didn't steal anything," Hermione said flatlyโa lie, but one she delivered without hesitation.
"You're lying, Mudblood!ย CRUTIO!!"ย roared the insane woman, her eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.
Hermione screamed in agony, her body feeling as if it were being torn apart from the inside. The pain was unbearableโworse than she remembered. In that moment, she would've welcomed death over enduring the Cruciatus Curse a second time.
When the curse finally lifted, Hermione summoned every ounce of strength she had left. Too weak to raise her wand, she cast spell after spell wandlessly, driven by sheer desperation and pain. Her arm was limp, her body screamingโbut her will refused to break.
"You should die for what you've done bitchโPROTEGO!!"ย Hermione cried out, her voice hoarse with rage and pain. But her shield faltered, weak and unstable. She was strugglingโfailingโand she knew it.
She remembered a spell she had once found in the Black Library at Number 12, Grimmauld Placeโa spell that allowed the caster to travel back in time to escape danger. What she hadn't known then was how perilous the spell truly was; it often ended in death for those who tried it. And she had no idea which time period it would send her to.
"Tempus Revertum, Facta Corrigenda, Iterum Vita Rescribenda,"ย Hermione whispered, her voice trembling. But before the spell could fully take hold, a curse struck her chest, and she struggled to breathe. Her head spun and throbbed painfully as the world around her began to collapse into darkness. Everything went black.
โ
Hermione could feel her breath coming easierโno longer burdened by pain, though her tiny body still felt weak. Slowly, she opened her eyes. The surroundings were blurred, and a bright, golden light nearly blinded her. Faint, muffled voices reached her ears, distant and indistinct.
"She's so beautiful, my love," a man whispered softly, his voice tender but wary.
"Indeed, she is," a woman replied. "But we need to protect her from him. We can't let him know she's your daughter."
Questions swirled in Hermione's mind:ย Who was he? Why was he a danger? And who were these people?
"She's... strange," the woman said quietly, almost to herself. "Newborns usually cryโwhy isn't she crying?"
Then, suddenly, realization struck Hermione like a spark. She had been given a second chance. She was...ย
REINCARNATED!!!
She could hear the coupleโher parentsโwhispering things she couldn't quite make out. Words likeย door, alert, darkย floated faintly through the haze, hints of a dangerous world she was now part of.
"Emily, we should keep your maiden name for her," the manโher fatherโsaid quietly, a note of urgency in his voice. "We both know she won't be safe if I give her my last name."
Emily's voice was firm yet gentle. "Let's go to Gringotts. The goblins can help us. They'll make sure she's protected."
Gringotts?ย Hermione's small mind struggled to comprehend. Her new parents were wizardsโthis time, she wasn't a Muggleborn.
"We'll name her Hermione Vicetamore," her mother whispered softly, brushing a lock of hair from her tiny forehead.
The irony made Hermione giggle quietlyโreborn into another timeline, yet her name remained the same. Her parents smiled when they heard her laughter.
"Sunshine, look how cute she is!" her father cooed, lifting her gently into his arms. He tickled her tiny sides, and her laughter filled the room like a warm breeze.
For the first time, Hermione felt truly happy, embraced in the safety and love of her new parents. But shadows lingered just beyond the light. She didn't know yet that this fragile happiness would soon be tested, and the world she had been born into this time carried dangers far greater than she could imagine.
โ
Hermione watched as her parents approached the towering, ornate entrance of Gringotts. The gleaming white marble and intricate carvings reflected the sun, giving the fortress an almost otherworldly glowโa place of magic, wealth, and whispered secrets. As they stepped inside, the cool air carried the scent of ancient stone and old enchantments, making Hermione shiver with a mixture of awe and unease.
Ahead, a group of goblins waitedโsmall, sharp-eyed creatures with glinting silver jewelry and finely tailored garments. Their pointed features and calculating eyes assessed Hermione's parents with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
"Good day," her father said, bowing slightly. "We seek your assistance to protect our daughter."
One goblin, taller than the rest and wearing a finely crafted waistcoat, stepped forward. His eyes flickered with interestโand caution. "Protection comes at a price," he said, his voice sharp, precise, and tinged with authority. "But if your cause is just, perhaps we can find a way."
Her mother nodded firmly. "She is in grave danger. We will pay whatever is necessary."
The goblins exchanged glances, their murmurs faint but tense, before their leader inclined his head. "Very well. Let us discuss terms."
Hermione felt a curious mix of hope and unease tighten in her chestโa fragile thread of safety in a world shadowed by threats she didn't yet understand.
"Do not keep keys to her vault," her mother insisted firmly. "Let her blood be the only key."
The goblin's expression remained stoic. "Very well. But be warnedโshould she ever undergo an inheritance test, she will discover her true parents and identity."
Her parents nodded solemnly, acknowledging the warning without flinching.
The goblin then asked, "The father's name?"
"Jake Vicetamore," her mother replied smoothly, her voice calm and practiced.
Hermione's mind raced. She sensed the deceptionโboth her parents were carefully hiding their true identities. When the goblin asked for her mother's name, her mother answered without hesitation: "Lily Vicetamore, nรฉe Williams."
Hermione made a mental note: the moment she was old enough to take her inheritance test, she would uncover the truth. Every deception her parents wove now was a layer over her real history.
The goblin scribbled the false names into a ledger, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly, as if he sensed the deceit but chose to let it slide. "Very well. The protections will be bound to the Vicetamore bloodline. No one outside of it will gain access."
Her father exhaled slowly, a mixture of relief and lingering fear evident in his posture. "Thank you. We only want her to be safe."
As they turned to leave, Hermione felt a strange weight settle over her shouldersโa mixture of relief, hope, and a gnawing uncertainty. She was hidden. She was protected. Yet even now, her true past lay buried beneath layers of carefully constructed lies.
And she knew... one day, she would have to unearth it all.