Misunderstood Maledictions | Tomione

Hermione Dumbledore Nefertari

Draco gave Hermione one of his trademark winks. "Trust me, Weasley, in thirty years, you'll be thanking her," he assured the irritated redhead.

Hermione grinned and started to laugh when Ron scowled and sent a well-aimed kick in the general direction of Draco backside. At the last minute, Draco scooted out of the way and took off across the Room of Requirements with an annoyed Ron in hot pursuit, Ron yelling, "Oy, you! Whose side are you on?"

The thought struck Hermione quite abruptly. Watching Draco and Ron run laps around the Room, all in good fun (at least for Draco—Ron looked like he wouldn't have any problem doing some serious damage to his old archenemy), Hermione suddenly realized how beautiful her life really was.

What was she doing?

Honestly, what was she thinking leaving behind this perfect world where there were new magical research breakthroughs almost every week and utterly comfortable black stretch flares were acceptable for girls to wear and women had more independence in general and MP3 players could be magically wired to play the Weird Sisters and John Mayer and the hottest Latin music since the beginning of time?

But then she remembered.

Visions of the horror of their first encounter with Voldemort in their first year; Ginny's possession in the second year and the terror that the Chamber of Secrets incident had brought about; Pettigrew's return to the Dark Lord in the third; the Dark Mark fiasco at the World Cup; the resurrection of Voldemort; the death of Cedric Diggory in the fourth. Little did she or anyone else expect that his death would be only the first of many, many to come in the years that followed.

The destruction of the Ministry of Magic at the end of their fifth year, but Sirius' death at that disaster was nothing when compared to Voldemort's total assault on Diagon Alley in the sixth, and before the Order of the Phoenix could catch its breath, all of magical London had been completely and utterly destroyed.

But then the war had really hit home, and hit home hard, when Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade on a Saturday Hogwarts visit near the end of her seventh year. Every student in Hogsmeade, from the smallest first year to the most powerful seventh year, had fought with so much bravery, so much selflessness, that the very memory of their courage sent chills down Hermione's spine...

Despite everything they had done, by the time a team of Aurors arrived, eighty-one students had died in that assault. Over a third of them had been in Gryffindor.

And then there had been her beloved parents.

Hermione had hardly dwelled on the thought when white, burning anger determinedly pulsed through her veins. She swore then, swore on her parents, swore on all of her beloved books and everything that she believed in that she would do everything in her power to ensure that that evilness would never, ever have the chance to make a name for itself. And she would go at it with everything she had.

Yes, she decided resolutely, No matter what happened, even the mere idea of Lord Voldemort would cease to exist after 1944. She had no idea how, or even who would end up doing what needed to be done in the end – though a part of her logically assumed it would be Harry – but, oh yes, it would be done.

Lord Voldemort, she thought darkly to the man's 1944 counterpart, You haven't got the slightest idea of what's about to hit you... but believe me, it's going to hit you so hard that you will never be the same again.

Strangely, her mind hardly felt reassured by this profound declaration of very justified purpose, but before she could dwell on it, Dumbledore entered the Room with Harry close at his side, probably talking tactics. Ginny strolled in beside Harry, her hand casually interlaced with his, the white knuckles of her hand the only giveaway to her true anxiety. Lavender followed closely behind, busily slipping her shrunken trunk and other baggage into a deep pocket of 1940s robes that she had gleaned out of Professor Sprout (and had subsequently needed to shrink significantly).