This is adopted from another story called 'Soulmate through Time' by awkwardwriter98. Enjoy! Leave reviews! The works! I do not own Kuroshitsuji or HP.
The doorbell rang.
She pushed a button on the wall and asked, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Harry." Her friend's voice sounded through the intercom.
"Go ahead and let yourself in, Harry. The door's not locked." She said.
The intercom cut off, she heard the front door open and the sound of her guest wiping his feet on the welcome mat.
"I'm in the kitchen, Harry." Hermione Jean Granger replied.
A moment later, one of her best friends in the world, Harry James Potter, walked into her kitchen. It was four years after the battle of Hogwarts and the defeat of You-Know-Who. Hermione had finally saved up enough to buy her own flat.
It was a large flat, with a small mud room by the front door, a living room, a small kitchen with a table big enough to have friends over, two bathrooms, her master bedroom, and she'd even had a small spare room, which she had turned into a little library. And every room in the house was painted and decorated after different Hogwarts houses. The mud room in the front was decorated in all of them, to welcome anyone and everyone into her home, the living room and her bedroom were done in Gryffindor, the bathrooms were done in Slytherin (because where had the entrance to the chamber of secrets been?), the kitchen was done in Hufflepuff, and her small library, which was connected to her living room, was done in Ravenclaw.
In appearance, the kitchen was just as ordinary as any modern muggle kitchen. Since it was themed after Hufflepuff, the walls were painted a pale yellow with a single black stripe running along the bottom, all of the appliances were silver. There was no dishwasher, though, as the dishes were magically washing themselves in the sink like something out of The Sorcerer's Apprentice. There were also many badger-themed things around the room, as the mascot for Hufflepuff was a badger. The cookie jar and salt and pepper shakers were shaped like badgers, and there were little badgers all over the curtains, too.
"Hey Harry, I just read it in the prophet! You've caught the last cell of Death Eaters? Congratulations!" Hermione congratulated her friend.
"Thanks, Hermione. Finally, I know the old scar will never hurt again." He said, sitting down at the table across from her, fingering the cursed mark on his forehead.
"That's a relief to us all!" Hermione agreed. Nothing good ever came of Harry's scar hurting. "By the way, I notice you're off of work early, today. It's about one. When you visited yesterday, you said you had some paperwork to do, so I was sure you'd be late." Hermione said.
"You've gone and lost track of time, Hermione." Harry said, pointing to the clock. Hermione looked, and indeed she had lost track of time. It was past six, already. Hermione blushed with embarrassment at her mistake.
"You're always doing that. You should set your watch to have an alarm go off every hour like a cuckoo clock. Heavens knows you need one. Someone can't always be there to tell you the time!"
"Harry, at this rate, I just might take you up on that suggestion. I saw a pretty cuckoo clock in Diagon Alley just yesterday. It was enchanted so that every hour, a lovely bird flew out of the birdhouse on top to fly around the house twice singing the happiest, prettiest little song I've ever heard. It was surprisingly affordable, and I can think of just the place to put it in the living room."
"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Hermione. But you can't carry a gigantic cuckoo clock everywhere you go." Harry said.
"I know. I just meant for here at home. I'll set a cuckoo on my watch, if it makes you feel better."
"It would. You might be on time for things more often. Where did your timeliness go after we finished school?"
"I lose track of time when I'm working, okay! But once I realize what time it is, I am right on top of it!"
"Sure you are." Harry said teasingly.
"Oh, you hush, Harry!" Hermione fake-scolded.
"How about you go change clothes? We're supposed to go visit the Burrow, today. Remember?" Harry asked.
"Yes, of course I remember." Hermione sighed, getting up and dashing into her room to change out of her work clothes into something pretty yet casual.
Some time later, a loud *pop* sounded through the late evening air in the front yard of a very unusual looking house. Hermione and Harry quickly rushed inside and away from the cold, having done so so many times there was no longer a need to knock. The Burrow was a wizard-built, multi-story dwelling and the home of the rather large Weasley family, whom Hermione loved as dearly as if they were related through blood, even if they weren't.
"Harry! Hermione!" Molly Weasley, the Mother, greeted as she popped her head around the entrance to the kitchen as the two entered the house. Molly came around the corner, wiping her hands on her apron and pulling each of them in for a hug.
"Oh Hermione, look at you! So thin! You need some meat on your bones!" Molly commented, poking Hermione playfully in the ribs.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, really. I've been taking care of myself just fine." Hermione reassured her.
"Nonsense! You're like a second daughter to me. And how many times have I told you to call me Molly, dear?"
"Don't listen to her, Molly. She's eaten pizza for the past four days in a row!" Harry said. Hermione frowned at him, displeased that he'd sided with Molly.
"I hardly have any time to cook for myself. If it makes you feel any better, I'll start ordering something besides pizza!"
"Now, now, I'll have no fighting in my household. Settle down, now." Molly ordered. Harry and Hermione immediately shut up. "Now hug and make up."
After a moments' hesitation, Hermione and Harry smiled at each other and did just that, for it was impossible for them to stay mad or even irritated at each other for long.
"But I'm still right." Harry said, receiving a well-earned yet playful slap on the arm from Hermione. They truly did act like siblings, sometimes. Being close friends for almost eleven years will do that to you. But, so will fighting together through thick and thin against a psychopath and his evil followers in a war that they didn't even start. But, that's another story.
Molly was eyeballing Hermione's skinny frame again. "Well, I'll just have to fatten you up as much as I can whenever you walk into my house, won't I?" Molly said. "Now, go into the living room, everyone's already here. Dinner's served in about ten minutes." Molly said, marching back into the kitchen like a soldier into battle.
"Is there anything I can help with? Setting the table, perhaps?" Hermione called after her. It was quite rude not to at least offer your host some assistance with things such as dinner.
"Oh no it's fine, dear. I have six… five… children… to help me with that." Mrs. Weasley said, freezing and catching herself, remembering that one of her twins, one of her beloved children, her son, Fred, was dead, and had been so for over four years, now. Hermione quickly rushed over to hug the grieving Mother.
"It's alright, Molly." Hermione said, hugging the shorter witch.
"I know it is… but, it's just never the same. Some days, I forget he's gone and call for both of them, but only George comes. It just hurts. It'll never stop hurting. You'll understand when you have little ones of your own." Molly Weasley said, wiping a tear out of the corner of her eye.
"Yeah, if." Hermione corrected.
"When." Molly corrected. "Honestly, if a smart, beautiful witch like you can't find a man, then what is this world coming to?" Molly asked playfully.
Hermione smiled. "Seriously, are you alright?" Hermione asked.
"Yes dear, I'm fine. Now go, before the others start to wonder where you are!"
When Hermione walked into the living room, Ginny was chatting with Charlie's girlfriend, Briar, Parvati Patil was sitting on Ron's lap (the two had started dating several months after the end of the war), Neville and Luna were sitting together holding hands (they had been married several months prior, and Hermione was surprised to see Neville here, as he had an apprenticeship under Herbology Professor Sprout at Hogwarts). Seamus Finnigan and Padma Patil were sitting together on the floor. Mr. Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt were sitting together, chatting like old friends. Hermione said hello to everyone, and eventually sat down with Ginny, Tonks, and Briar. The first thing that Ginny asked Hermione was, of course, "So, how was your dinner date?"
Several days back, Hermione had arranged a blind date. They'd gone out to dinner. He was a pureblood, named Steven Trevors, sweet and well groomed enough, handsome, too. But Hermione had found him dreadfully… clumsy, he'd knocked over someone else's table and stuttered nervously all the time to the point it nearly gave Hermione a headache. She didn't plan on owling him again anytime, soon. And Hermione told her friends just that.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." Ginny said with pity.
"Next time's Mr. Right for sure!" Briar said encouragingly.
"You're the only one out of us who hasn't found your true love, yet. I feel really sorry for you." Ginny said (she and Harry had been dating for sometime, now. In fact, they were living together).
"Yeah! I always thought you'd be the first of our group to get hitched, Hermione." Padma said, joining the conversation. Pavarti walked over as well, so all the girls were chatting and the boys were forming a group.
"I have to agree with my sister. You're way more beautiful than the rest of us, the brightest witch of your age, and then there's the whole 'I am a badass who helped defeat You-Know-Who' thing." Pavarti said.
"I want someone to like me for me, not for my titles or the things I've done." Hermione said.
"Maybe it's fate. Maybe fate is just having you meet all the wrong guys so that you know it's him when you find your soulmate." Briar suggested.
"You believe in soulmates?" Hermione asked. She'd heard and read about them many times before, but wasn't sure if there was any actual merit to them. She'd never seen any verifiable books on the subject.
"My mother always told me stories about soulmates. I believe everyone has one, but not everyone gets to meet theirs. It takes luck, and sometimes heroes are rewarded for their great deeds with the chance to meet their soulmate." Briar said.
"Our Mum told us about them, too." Padma and Pavarti said together. It was definately a twin thing. It reminded Hermione of Fred and George, and sadness flickered across Ginny's features for a moment as it reminded her of her fallen brother.
But, she put on a smile and asked, "What about you, Briar? Do you think you and Charlie are soulmates?"
Briar's cheeks turned pink. "I… I would like to think so." she said.
"But how will I know if It's him?" Hermione asked.
Briar opened her mouth to speak, but Mrs. Weasley called everyone for dinner. In the chaos, laughter and food, the topic was forgotten, and Hermione never did get her answer.
Hermione was eating breakfast the next morning when she heard a tap, tap, tapping at the window. She looked over to see a ministry owl perched on her windowsill with a letter in its' beak. Hermione got up and opened the window to let the bird inside. The owl hopped inside and perched itself on the back of one of her chairs in the kitchen. Hermione closed the window again, not wanting to let the cold in, took the letter from the owl, and opened it. It read:
Dear Employees of the Ministry of Magic,
I am delighted to announce that today is the semi-annual 'Take Your Pet to Work Day' at the Ministry. For today, each ministry official may bring a beloved pet to work, so long as said animal is small enough to keep close and convenient. Examples include owls, canaries, cats, toads, well-mannered medium-small dogs, and any other animal (magical or non) of a similar size. The only exception to this rule is, of course, nifflers, as we do not want any jewelry or other valuable items to go missing, today.
Thank you! We are excited to see the interesting creatures that come into our workplace, today.
Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt
Hermione squealed in excitement just as she felt a fuzzy little body rub against her ankle. She looked down to see the very pet she was bringing to work that day. Crookshanks, her beloved orange kneazle-hybrid, had passed away last year. It was to be expected, he was old when she had gotten him, and that was before her third year at Hogwarts! A few months ago, Hermione had gone back to the owner of the petshop where she'd gotten him, and the shop owner had pointed her in the direction of the kneazle breeder where she'd gotten Crookshanks. From that breeder, Hermione had purchased one of Crookshanks far younger cousins, a beautiful male kneazle-housecat hybrid kitten whom Hermione had named Knick-knacks, but she often called him 'Nick' for short. both in memory of her previous cat (because 'Knick-Knacks' sounded a little bit like 'Crookshanks'), and because of the cat-kneazle's apparent obsession with anything small and easy to bat at with his paws or carry around in his mouth.
He was a truly beautiful animal, in Hermione's opinion. He had a lovely, slender build, his legs were long and strong, the pads of his paws were soft, large, and dark grey, and his nose matched. Most of his fur was a gorgeous silver-grey color, but his muzzle and belly were white. He had large dark grey spots on his back and hind legs, and one on the tip of his fluffy tail. His eyes were large and cerulean blue, with irises black as a raven's wings. He took more after his kneazle side than his cat side, but the similarities between the two species made it hard to tell if you didn't know what a kneazle looked like. His ears were almost as large as a kneazle, but much larger than a normal cat's, but his tail lacked the lion-like quality keazle's tails had. Rather, it was long and fluffy from base to tip. He was the most beautiful cat Hermione had ever seen, and she told him so constantly.
"You get to come to work with me, Nick!" she said merrily, scooping the cat up in her arms and nuzzling his face with her own. He immediately began to purr, sensing her good intentions. Being part kneazle, Knick-knacks was highly intelligent. He wasn't sure why Hermione left every day, only that she had to, and some days didn't want to. But today, he was getting to go with her to this place called 'work', and that made him so happy!
Hermione set Knick-knacks down on solid ground again, gave the Ministry Owl a treat and sent him on his way, then sat down to eat her breakfast. No sooner had she picked up her knife and fork again… her doorbell rang.
Odd, Harry and Ron went to Albania first thing this morning to investigate some House-elf trafficking cases, so who would be visiting me this early in the morning? She wondered.
Hermione set her silverware down and stood up, dragging herself away from the wonderful smell of eggs and bacon still coming from her plate. She answered the door, and was surprised to see that it was Ginny.
"Lo' Ginny. Is there something wrong? I thought you had a meeting today." Hermione said.
"No, nothing's wrong. And I do have a meeting, but that's not until the afternoon. I just thought I'd stop by to tell you something I forgot to tell you yesterday." Ginny said.
"You could've just owled me." Hermione said.
"I wanted to tell you this in person. Besides, do I need an excuse to come and see my friend?" Ginny asked, looking fake-hurt.
"Of course not. Now come inside, before you catch cold." Hermione said, stepping inside to let the other Gryffindor girl inside. Ginny brushed her feet off on the doormat and the two witches stepped into the living room.
Hermione's living room was decorated much like the gryffindor common room, with a sofa, several armchairs and bean bag chairs, a coffee table, a large flat screen telly, and photographs of her friends and family lining the walls. And of course, there was the large stone fireplace which was connected to the floo network.
Hermione sat Ginny down in an armchair, conjured a pot which began pouring the two some tea, they picked up their cups, and the conversing began. This was the first sentence spoken by the great Ginny Weasley.
"I just came over to tell you that you have a blind date today."
Hermione sputtered and the tea in her mouth spilled back into her cup. "S-say w-what now?" She asked with wide eyes and a raised voice.
"Surprised does not begin to cover it." Hermione seethed.
"Oh, don't get mad at me. I'm trying to help. All the ones you've picked ended in disaster."
"Well, why would you spring it on me like this?"
"Look, I said I'm just trying to help. Every date you've been on has been a failure. It makes me sad, seeing you all alone. You need someone to take care of you. Ron's made it clear that it's not going to be him, so we have to find you someone!"
"Ginny, I can take care of myself just fine. I am a strong, independent woman, a war hero, and according to… everyone, I'm 'the brightest witch of my age'. I don't need any man to take care of me! It'd be nice, but I'm telling you, the situation isn't so dire that I need my friends to interfere."
"I know that, but I want to help! Please, my sister from another mother, let me help just this once!" Ginny begged.
Hermione sighed. There was no winning an argument once Ginny had made up her mind, and how could she possibly say no to those puppy dog eyes?
"When and where?" She deadpanned. Ginny squealed like a schoolgirl in love and hugged Hermione from across the table.
"The Leaky Cauldron at seven o'clock. He should be tall, wearing a black suit with a white shirt." Ginny said, getting up and walking towards her fireplace. "By the way, may I use your floo? There's somewhere I have to be."
"Sure, of course." Hermione said. "Just be warned that if this date goes badly, I will be getting you back for it!" Hermione mock-warned slash mock-threatened. Ginny merely held up her hands defensively in response, stepped into the fireplace, bade a quick goodbye, grabbed a handful of powder, cried out "Diagon Alley," and disappeared in a swirl of flame.
Hermione sighed once more and waved her wand to send the tea and pots back from whence they had come. Then, she made her way back into the kitchen to finish her breakfast, all the while contemplating what she should wear for her date… and whether it will end up being worth dressing up for at all.
Deputy Head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. That was the official 'title' of Hermione's job. So, roughly a half hour after Ginny had left her humble residence, Hermione was dressed in her witch's robes, wand safely in her holster, carrying Knick-knacks safely in his cat carrier, and stepping out of a ministry of magic floo fireplace. Hermione dusted the soot off of her robes and quickly checked on Knick-knacks, who was just fine although looking a little nervous, suddenly being from the home he'd grown to love and be comfortable in, to this big place filled with lots of strange people and other animals he didn't know.
Cats liked comfort. They liked their own territory. But, he had his cat carrier, which had grey plush walls with black victorian era designs all over it, and smelled of home. Hermione had even put his favorite pillow and some of his trinkets, his knick-knacks in with him. A little stuffed mouse that fit in his mouth so nicely, a little ball of yarn, and a cage ball with a little bell in it that made such a pretty, entertaining noise when he batted at it.
Hermione started making her way to her office. All around her, wizards, some she knew, her co-workers, some she didn't, walked about with their animal companions. Some wizards walked around with their dogs on leashes, and one wizard walked past her with a crup (a wizard-bred dog that looks like a jack russell terrier with a forked tail) on a leash. Others had creatures in cages, carriers, or on their shoulders.
She passed by one particular statue, and happened to stop to look at it. She didn't know why, she'd passed by it many times before, she'd even stopped to look at it and read the plaque before, but today, she happened to stop to look at it. She didn't know why, she just decided to. It was a statue commemorating the passing of the 1889 Law of the Divine, which gave demons, angels, ghosts, grim reapers, and other supernatural/divine beings rights in the eyes of the ministry of magic and forced the ministry to acknowledge them, their needs, and (in the case of demons) their contracts, in the rare cases when it pertains to them.
The story behind it was that sometime in late 1888 or 1889, the ministry wrongfully executed a witch for a crime it later turned out she was innocent of. Her name was long-forgotten, no one knew who she was. But, she was also the destined soulmate of an incredibly powerful demon, who loved her more than life itself.
According to the lore she'd read, demons taking a mate is less common than marriage in humans, but even fewer ever found their soulmate. Even hearing of a demon who had found its' soulmate was like finding a needle in a haystack.
In his rage and grief, the demon brutally murdered almost half of the ministry of magic and over half of the aurors, who were powerless to stop him, before he finally came back to his senses and disappeared. The Minister of Magic at the time, Faris Spavin, survived, and the massacre terrified the ministry into taking action: action in the form of a law that would force them to take… certain things… into consideration, to prevent such an event from ever happening again.
Hermione had read about demons, but no verifiable sighting of one had ever been recorded other than the law that was made because of them. Hermione didn't know whether or not to believe they were real, and the same went for angels, too. She'd seen and spoken to many ghosts in her lifetime, so she knew they were real. As for grim reapers… there was the deathly hallows, but there was no proof that those were actually products of death himself.
Regardless if there was any merit to it, Hermione thought it was a very sad story. A very sad story, indeed. She looked at the statue. It wasn't very large, if taken off of it's podium, it would only come up to her waist. But it was made of black marble with silver here and there, and the architecture was so detailed and beautiful. It was of a demon. Hypothetically, the heartbroken demon that the law had been made after. The demon's black marble wings were curled inward, mid-flight, each feather was spread out and detailed with a streak of silver down the inside middle of each one. His face was contorted with pure fury, silver claws outstretched, his eyes were marble with silver tears streaming down his cheeks, his silver teeth were bared, his raised lips contorting his muzzle into a silent snarl. His silver-lined horns were like that of a ram's, and they framed his face regally. He looked so magnificent and furious… but the artist had somehow mixed that fury with a look of such grief and despair, that made him look so utterly heartbroken at the same time.
Hermione knew that demons were immortal, so the stories said, they didn't age, and no known mortal weapons could kill them. She wondered if that poor demon was still alive, if he had gotten over it, or if he still lived empty and heartbroken, or perhaps he wanted to die, but couldn't. Or if perhaps he'd disappeared to die after the massacre (could demons even commit suicide?). Or maybe he just died naturally… or was killed by some other powerful being such as himself. Hermione then stopped to wonder why she was thinking about this. After all, there was no concrete evidence to prove demons to be real in the first place, so why ponder it?
She left the statue and ended up in an elevator with a short, plump witch with a boa constrictor around her shoulders and a tall, thin wizard with a little canary in a cage, and when she got off the elevator, a witch dressed in green with a blue macaw on her arm got in.
As Hermione made her way to her office, which was on a balcony overlooking the ministry lobby, there was an explosion a few floors above her. BOOM! It had come from the Chronology Department, which dealt with the study of magic and how it pertain to magic. They dealt with things like time turners, time-stopping spells, and other (some dark and/or illegal) forms of time magic.
But of course, none of this occurred to Hermione as her ears rang from the sound, dust and pieces of rubble rained down on her, and everyone started freaking out, running about and screaming. The apparent perpetrator, obviously a Death Eater, jumped and landed on her balcony. He was followed swiftly by a couple of very pissed off Aurors. And of course, because this was her life and this kind of crap always ended up happening to her, he ran straight at her. Well, not at her, but in her direction. He ran past her, and the Aurors were not far behind.
"GET HIM BEFORE HE JUMPS!" One of them shrieked. Jumps? Hermione looked at the runaway Death Eater, who was now yelling while running, "THE DARK LORD SHALL NOT BE DEFEATED! I'LL FIX IT!" At the top of his lungs. He was carrying a small pouch in his hand. After that, several things happened simultaneously. Hermione saw something gold and familiar looking glittering inside it.
Then, several things happened simultaneously. Firstly, it registered in her mind what it was, it was a time-turner. In fact, it was the time-turner. It had recently been discovered in one of the confiscated vaults of the Lestrange family. A time-turner that could go back however far the wearer wished. Months, years, decades, centuries! And if a Death Eater had it, it didn't take a genius to guess what he planned to do with it: make sure Voldemort triumphed at the Battle of Hogwarts. Secondly, Hermione whipped her wand out and cried out, 'Accio!' And thirdly, the time-turner flew into her hand. But the second it touched her fingertips, Hermione Granger, cat carrier in hand, disappeared… and the time-turner fell to the floor with a metallic 'plink'.
When Hermione opened her eyes, the Ministry was empty. Empty and not destroyed. What was going on? Hermione tried to open the door to her office, but when she did, it was locked… and there was someone else's name on the nametag.
What is going on? Hermione wondered. She went back to the elevator, which didn't look quite the same as it had a few minutes ago, went down to the first floor, and walked about, thinking. That was all there was to do. She stopped to look at the demon statue she'd looked at before… and froze. It wasn't there.
Hermione backed away from the empty spot, breathing hard. Nonononono. Not happening. Not happening. There was a probably unstable time-turner, it touched me, and now everything's different. I have not been sent back in time, I have not been sent back in time, I have NOT been sent back in time!
"Excuse me, who are you?" A voice asked. Hermione spun around, and gasped. She'd seen that woman before. In history books. Eloise Mintumble. She died in 1899! Hermione's mind immediately traveled to the excerpt of 'Famous Witches and Wizards' where she'd first learned of the famous Unspeakable.
Madam Eloise Mintumble (d. 1899) was an Unspeakable (a wizard or witch who works in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries, forbidden from discussing their jobs or disclosing any information about their department, hence the name "Unspeakable.") in the Department of Mysteries who died during the course of an experiment to travel back in time for more than a few hours.
Madam Mintumble was trapped, for a period of five days, in the year 1402. When she was finally retrieved to the present, her body had aged five centuries, and, irreparably damaged, she died in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Her excursion to the past provoked a great disturbance to the life paths of all those she met, changing the present so dramatically that no fewer than twenty-five of their descendants vanished in the present, having been "un-born". Moreover, there were a few more alarming signs that time itself had been disturbed: Tuesday following her reappearance lasted two and a half full days, whereas Thursday shot by in the space of four hours
"E-Eloise… M-M-Mimtumble." Hermione sputtered.
"Yes, that is my name, who are you?" She asked.
Hermione dropped the cat carrier, earning a rather loud 'Meow' of protest from Knick-knacks, grabbed Eloise's shoulders urgently, and asked the question
"What year is it?"
"Pardon?" Eloise asked, sounding puzzled.
"What year is it?" Hermione asked again with more urgency, shaking the other witch slightly.
"It's 1888." The Unspeakable replied, still sounding puzzled.
At that, Hermione felt her heart stop. The world started going fuzzy, and Hermione Jean Granger promptly paled and fainted.
A quick special thanks to 'Guest'. I don't know who you are, but thank you for pointing out the mistake with the dates. You know what I'm talking about. This mistake has been fixed.
I hope you like the story! Leave reviews! Remember: reviews are fuel for writers!