Screams rang out in the midst of a once silent night, houses combusted into a fiery fiend as the demons of the past began to catch up once more. Witches and wizards fled in hopes to keep their lives only to lose it for another dreaded day of the war. * "My child.... I know this is hard to bear. You will be alone with no one to support you." "I understand sir.... please..." "I-I am so sorry my child." Broken sobs spilled out of the older witches lips. "It's alright.... would it be okay to call you grandmother?" Her soft voice was drowned out as she choked back a sob. "Of course... come here Hermione my lovely child." Minerva whispered pitying the small girl, watching as she collapsed sobbing. "I've made my decision... Grandmother, I will go back to the tear 1945." Where everything started All rights reserved, I own the plot but nothing more that that. Please enjoy.