A/N: My dear readers, I have been so affected by s09e11 of Doctor Who (Heaven Sent) that I had to write this. No, you don't have to watch Heaven Sent to understand this and no, this isn't a crossover.

The pairing is Draco/Hermione. If you don't like them, then I suggest you get out of here as fast as you can. Also this story contains an insane amount of dialogue/monologue/soliloquy.

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER NOR DOCTOR WHO. Anything you recognise, belongs to their respective owners. I am just trying to have a little fun here. *extra long sigh*

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How Many Seconds In Eternity?

1

As you come into this world, something else is also born. You begin your life, and it begins a journey towards you. It moves slowly, but it never stops. Wherever you go, whatever path you take, it will follow. Never faster, never slower. Always coming. You will run, it will walk. You will rest, it will not. One day, you will linger in the same place too long. You will sit too still or sleep too deep. And when, too late, you rise to go, you will notice a second shadow next to yours. Your life will then be over.

.. ... .

When he was seventeen years, eleven months and twenty-nine days old, he was handed over a strange circular dial made of bronze by his father and mother. In a not-so-subtle way they had explained to him that being a Malfoy was a tough job— not only because of the consequences of the war but also because of the family curse.

"What family curse?" he had asked with raised eyebrows.

"One of our predecessors," his father had begun in a low, serious voice. "Brutus Malfoy the First was cursed by a very powerful time-witch because he had insulted her."

"Time-witch? I thought they were myths."

"Of course not. Very few know this but time-witches exist. No one knows how they got this gift of manipulating spacetime— the fabric of reality you can say. The witch who cursed Brutus was Meridia Moon and when she did so, this dial appeared by his feet and then he disappeared into it. No one except him knows what happened inside, but when he finally got back, he was as pale as alabaster. It is said that inside this dial, a torture chamber exists that makes one confess one's deepest secrets and the way out is very tough—"

"Wait a second. You're saying all this as if you don't know what lies inside," Draco had said incredulously. "If it is a family curse, weren't you affected by it and why, I may ask, am I being told about all this only now?"

"Yes Draco, I don't know what lies inside because I got away, luckily. The curse strikes at alternate generations. Your grandfather got struck and so did his grandfather after they turned eighteen. It is only important to tell you now because the path ahead of you is treacherous and full of wicked dangers. The torture is different for everyone and the ways to get out are only two or so I have heard and what's more, she can strike whenever you least expect it. Either you figure it out and get out of there or the spirit of the time-witch grants you mercy, which I may add, happens after a very long time. Draco, you have to break the curse,"

"I can only try," he had answered back slowly and clearly, shuddering ever so slightly underneath his robes.

.. ... .

Draco went back to Hogwarts for completing his education. He and his friends got sneers in return for nods and hexed at almost every turn and corner. The sides were reversed now; muggle-borns now overpowered the handful of purebloods. Here he was trying to make amends and they just couldn't stop to listen. He had thought that at least Granger would try to understand since she was such a compassionate creature but who was he kidding, little Ms. Perfect Prefect was as bad as the others. A tiny part of him had thought that at least she could have forgiven him but now it seemed impossible.

It was after another such tiring day that he decided to go to his old haunt, the Room of Requirement. He could associate many bad memories of repairing the Vanishing Cabinet with it but right now, he just wanted a big, cushioned bed to rest upon. He entered the Room easily as there was no one about to trouble him. Barely ten minutes had passed when he saw Hermione Granger enter the Room from his position on the bed. She sighed loudly and he noticed her eyes were red.

"What do you want Granger?" he asked, highly irritated at being disturbed.

"Get out, Malfoy," she said without missing a beat.

"Well, I am doing nothing like that Granger."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, as he sat up.

"Well then it looks like I will have—"

She never got to complete that sentence. The dial which he had kept beside his pillow was now glowing with an unearthly golden light. His father had told him to keep it always near him since escaping had proved to be futile for his predecessors.

"Not now!" he shrieked helplessly as Granger watched on curiously. A few moments later a young red haired, brown eyed witch was standing beside his bed and he jumped up from his place to stand hurridely. He eyed her cautiously.

"Oooh I sense something!" the witch or rather, her the voice of her apparition said viciously as she saw the pair of them. "What better revenge than this," she growled at him and Draco gulped in dry air. With a click of her fingers, a raven appeared on her left shoulder. He quickly sensed what was going to happen. He had read in mythology books that time-witches used their magical familiars to murder people. Their familiars were usually ravens— the symbol of death. The raven flew defty towards the surprised Granger and was absorbed by her body.

"No, not her! She is the only one who might—"

Before he could complete his sentence, Granger gave a loud, painful scream which was full of agony. A few seconds later, thick, black smoke escaped from her mouth as she fell down, lifeless. "No..." he moaned as he slumped to the ground. He looked at the ground, where her body was and kept looking at it when he spoke through gritted teeth,"Why did you have to do that?"

The witch did not reply

"Take me, because that's all you can bloody do!" he spat fiercely. A cold, bony hand latched upon his shoulder.

"Drop your wand, Malfoy," the witch ordered him. He was seething with anger but he did as he was told; he had to break the curse. She grabbed his hand roughly and then his world blacked out.

.. ... .

He coughed loudly as he found himself in a cylinder made of glass. There was a door in the cylinder and he came out through it. He wondered if he had apparated or if some other means had been used to send him here. Who had sent him, he couldn't remember. He bent downwards to see what he was standing upon. There was a little of sand present and he grabbed some of it in his fist only to drop it within a few seconds.

He walked out of the room to find himself in a curved, circular corridor lined with narrow windows at regular intervals. Draco walked ahead. He seemed to have forgotten something terrible. What, he couldn't remember. What he could just remember was that he had seen Granger dying before his eyes.

He spoke aloud to the empty air, "If you think because she's dead I'm weak, then you understand very little. If you were any part of killing her, and you're not afraid, then you understand nothing at all. So for your own sake, understand this: I am Draco Malfoy, the heir of the Malfoy family as well as the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I'm coming to find you, and I will never, ever stop."

On the wall there was one of those muggle things he had seen in the Muggle Studies class. What did one call them— ah, yes, television. A grey static was present on its screen. Suddenly the static gave way to a very slow moving, black and white picture of a corridor, similar to one he was in. A few flies were flying here and there and he tried to swat them but his attempts were futile. He walked ahead and found a muddied spade, picked it up and studied the thick layer of dust on it.

"What, are you gardeners? I hate gardening! What sort of a person has a power complex about flowers? It's dictatorship for inadequates. Or to put it another way, it's dictatorship." he yelled as he walked forward. His footsteps did not show him anyone. Was it possible that they were all hiding?

"Come on! Chop chop! Draco Malfoy will see you now. Show me what you've got! I just watched the only person who might have forgiven me die in agony. My day can't get any worse. Let's see what we can do about yours! When the sun sets I'll be able to establish an exact position by the stars. Then you'll have a choice: to come out, show yourself, or keep on hiding. Granger preached her Gryffindors during her awful sermons to them that one shouldn't believe in revenge. You should know, I never listened to her."

The next window showed him an eery sight; there was a hunchbacked figure in dirty white clothes and inexplicably, he knew— he knew that it was coming for him.

"I know you. I've seen you before." he whispered.

He retraced his steps and came in front of the room he had begun his journey from and there it was, that strange creature and it was heading straight for him with its beastly black claws of death. He ran forward, away from it. Wait a second, he thought. Why am I not using my wand? But a quick search of his trouser pockets revealed nothing. "Oh, to hell with you!" he shouted. He ran and ran and ran and ran and found himself in front of a wooden door. He pushed hard and heaved and sighed but the door wouldn't budge even an inch.

'Be nice,' his inner voice commanded.

"Be nice? To whom? To a door?" he yelled, befuddled. The creature/thing/whatever was very near now and who was he to question his own inner thoughts. Oh, this is asinine, he thought and said, "Oh, you poor tormented door, please open up, I understand why you're so cross— all your life, you've just been knocked upon and pushed. I understand your plight. Please open now."

There was a slight click. Surprisingly, the door had opened.

"See Granger..." he said with a smirk and then stopped short. She was dead; he seemed to have forgotten that vital piece of information in that minute moment of joy. Draco quickly opened the door only to find no route of escape from the creature because the door did not open into another corridor, no, it opened into a small room, if one could call it a room. The space was barely one metre wide and one one metre broad and the walls were all solid stones like the rest of the castle. Where was he to escape?

The creature was now looming upon him. It was so dark beneath its hood that he could not see its face, not that he wanted to.

"I can't actually see a way out of this." he babbled desperately. "I've finally run out of corridors. There's a life summed up. Now this is new. I'm scared. I just realised that. I'm actually scared of dying, I always have been and I actually said that aloud."

Suddenly the creature stopped. Just like that. Even the flies stopped flying and buzzing. Draco looked at the creature with wide eyes full of surprise. He even flicked a still fly just to be sure. Nothing happened.

"Something I said? What did I say? Why did you stop?" he muttered but he could not continue whatever he had planned on saying because the whole floor started to move like some clockwork device. He was displaced and so was the creature. A new corridor opened up in front of him; it was another mystery to fall into. This one lead to a proper room. Their was a fireplace but no fire was roaring in it and foggy sunlight was streaming in from the window in front of him. The window had a little, wooden stool in front of it. In front of the fireplace, there was a comfortable looking bed, almost similar to the one the Room of Requirement had given to him. Above the fireplace, on the mantel place there was a pot full of fresh lilies. And just above that, there was a very old, muggle style portrait of Granger, meaning it did not move. The picture was faded but her bright eyes, brown hair and warm smile were still present for him to see.

On the opposite wall, there was another one of those muggle television screens. The image was moving slowly. He did not try to pay attention to that, instead he closely looked at Granger's portrait. She was beautiful, he remarked, in her own bookish way and he grew sad, remembering that he would never get to apologise to her. He plucked the petals from the lillies and watched them fall down on the ground. He looked out of the window and then he saw a fly buzzing in front of him. Time for doom had stuck again. Without turning back, he knew that the creature was standing mere metres behind him.

"When I was a very little boy," he began. "My grandfather had died from Dragonpox. They covered him in veils, but it was a hot, sunny day, and the flies came. It gave me nightmares for years. So who's been stealing my nightmares? What am I here for? And you've known about me for a very long time, right? So, what is it? Is it a trap? Is it a prison? No! Is it a torture chamber? Am I right? Somebody really should know better because I seem to have forgotten. Anyone who can put all of this together, and steal my bad dreams, they should know better. The secrets I have… No. No chance. Not telling. Not me! I told I was scared of dying, and I wasn't lying either." he said as he flung the little, stool right out of the window. The glass broke with a deafening shatter.

"Advantage me! Because I bet you won't see this coming!" he finished with a wicked grin and then he did a very un-Slytherin thing. He jumped right out of the window.

.. ... .

He was back in the Potions Classroom. It was his favourite classroom because it just had that look of hardwork and determination about it. The benches were empty and Granger was standing in front of the blackboard, facing away from him. Her thick hair was covering her shoulders and she had a piece of chalk in her hand.

"Sorry, I'm late! Jumped out of a window. Certain death. Don't you want to know how I survived? Go on. Ask me. No! Of course I had to jump. The first rule of being interrogated is that you are the only irreplaceable person in the torture chamber. The room is yours, so work it. Isn't it funny that mad Aunt Bella told me that? If they're going to threaten you with death, show them who's boss. Die faster! And you've seen me do that more often than most when your gang of Gryffindors cornered us Slytherins in the corner. Isn't that right, Granger?"

The wind was whipping furiously on his face but in his mind, he continued speaking and he kept his eyes shut up tight.

"Rule one of dying: don't. Rule two: slow down. You've got the rest of your life. The faster you think, the slower it will pass. Concentrate. Assume you're going to survive. Always assume that. I did that during the War. Imagine you've already survived. There's a storeroom in your mind. Lock the door and think. This is my storeroom. I always imagine that I'm back in this classroom, showing off. Telling you— well I don't know why it is always you in her. Well I tell you how I escaped— making you laugh or making you cry, depending on the circumstances. That's what I'm doing right now. I am falling, Granger. I'm dying. And I'm going to explain to you how I survived. Can't wait to hear what I say. I'm nothing without an audience. One hope: salt. I thought I smelled it earlier when I broke the window, I'm sure. Salty air. The castle is standing in the sea! Diving into water from a great height is no guarantee of survival. I need to know exactly how far I'm going to fall and how fast. Why do you think I threw the stool? Fall time to impact: seven seconds. The wind resistance of the stool and the atmospheric density, I checked that out when I plucked the petals. Am I spoiling the magic? I work at this stuff you know. Should hit the water in about… .02 seconds. The chances of remaining conscious are—"

He hit the surface of the calm water with a great splash but did not open his eyes. Not yet, it was too soon.

Granger was writing something on the board.

Question 1: What is this place?

"Can't I just sleep?" he muttered.

Question 2: What did you say that made the creature stop?

"Do I have to know everything? Isn't it you who knows every damn thing."

Then she wrote something again.

How are you going to WIN?

"Granger...can't I just lose?"

.. ... .

.. ... .

So folks, how was the first chapter? Tell me! That is, review. Please. And by the way, flames will be doused by an enormous flood. Friendly criticism and pointing of mistakes is okay, though.