"Hermione…" My voice rasped. I was reminiscing the happy moment, she and I shared. We loved each other; she loved me, and I loved her.
She would stare in my eyes and say, "You're quick, like a Firebolt. You're strong, in every way. You're as handsome as a Veela." Then she would whisper, "No matter how much bad others think you are, just know, that they just have forgotten the much good you have done; for me, and the world."
I wasn't fast enough to shield her from the Killing Curse, nor was I strong enough to endure the pain of her death. But as I imagined her smiling face, I knew. I knew she wouldn't want me to hurt myself.
The moment she died, the moment, that memory… It cycles around my head like no other memory exists, like it wants me to slowly go insane. Days and nights will go by, and I hardly eat and sleep, drunken with Hermione's death. I feel like I'm in a scene, where nothing progresses… Hermione just dies and dies and dies…
I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn around to see Harry Potter, smiling sadly. "Sleep, you need rest. Then get something to eat." Then he turned around to leave.
"I can't," I protested, "It becomes more vivid… It haunts me, what should I do?"
"A Sleeping Draught, thought you'd know." He chuckles, but I didn't.
"Do you have one?" My raspy voice asks again.
"Yes," He hands me a bottle with green swirling liquid in it, "Goodnight."
"Thank you…" I croaked.
I dunked the whole bottle's contents in my mouth after opening it, it tasted quite bitter yet sweet, and my brain seemed to stir. And with that, I have fallen in dreamless sleep…
XXX
I woken up, and I finally felt refreshed. That feeling, that you get after a long night's sleep. The feeling was soon replaced by a wave of depression, my mouth that have been formed as a straight line, soon became a frown.
I grumbled to myself, "Food. I need food." I winced as I stood up, every step I took was like getting stabbed. And when I managed to sit down on the table, in the same positions as I was sitting in before I slept.
"Morning," Harry saidm cheerily, settling two plates of pancakes on the table in front of me and in front of him, before sitting down. The sweet aroma from the pancakes reach my nose, I never understood how crepes smell so good. I wanted to praise Harry, or tell him how good of a cook he is. But all I managed was a grunt, then silence.
It stayed that way, until I ask him in my raspy voice, "How's Ginny?"
His expression gleamed, his smile brightened, "Ginny's great, she's in her room resting. The baby's kicking her, though. I'm scared the baby'll wake her up."
Harry Potter, the Chosen One. He's happy, he has Ginny, and soon, a baby. He gets to smile and laugh like nothing in the world matters, he has Ginny to take care of him, and for him to care of. I envy him, I admit it. I have every reason too. He has everything I don't. Happiness, being one. A lover, being the second. Soon, a child. And everyone admires the living crap out of him. I envy him. No, I'm jealous.
I wish I could be him.
I sighed, I should be thanking him. Loving him, for what he has done for me. He gave me shelter, food, water and other things I need to survive. Though, he keeps insisting when I reject him. I might as well join Hermione.
But I shouldn't. She wouldn't want that, would she?
I saw Harry's hand wave in front of myself, "Hello? Are you listening?" I shook my head, agony shooting my brain. "Well, I was congratulate you. You know, because it's your birthday, June 5th?"
"I don't think it's the right time, with the fucking war's still on." I gestured to the air, making a flick motion. I was tired, and that's saying something because I just woke up.
Harry's laughter escape his mouth, lucky him. After he finished, he said, "After the thing, we dragged you to my home. Then, we managed to kill Voldemort—" I winced, and he sighed, "You-Know-Who…"
I wasn't listening, so I blurted out, "It seems so cliché…"
"What? Our victory?" He though for a moment, "Yeah, I guess it would be cliché…"
"I meant Hermione."
"Oh, anyways." He pushed rather circular object in front of me, it was shiny and gold, unlike my feelings. It was attached to a chain, so it must be some sort of necklace. "Happy Birthday, I guess." I looked at him questionally, "It is a Time Turner, but it's not like others. This one, it will replace your present self into your past self. So you will take on your past self's appearance, age, you know; just not your memories and your knowledge. Also, each time you turn the ring in the middle, another year you will go back." He placed a hand on mine.
"I have no use for this shit." I spat, it was sudden, I couldn't help it. I looked into his green eyes, narrowing my own. No reaction appeared on his face, not anger, shock or even sadness.
He simply stared at me for a while, and shoved it closer to me. He stood up, not bothering to tuck it in. "Oh, I think you'll find some use for it." He muttered, as I looked at him with curiosity. "I'm gonna find Ginny…" He stated simply before leaving.
I stared at it for what seemed like hours, admiring it and figuring out what to do with it. I started to get cramps, my back was stiff. So I left and entered my room I occupied. I lied on the bed with my back touching the soft mattress, fidling with time turner and occasionally holding it by its chain as the time turner danced.
An idea suddenly crashed into my head as I stared at the Time Turner wide eyed. "Hermione!" I gasped, I had my hand knock on my head, I seem to be losing my sanity; or more specifically: my intellegence. I ran my hand through my ruffled hair that was glued together in a specific way when I was younger, but I realized that appearance never mattered, just the beauty inside someone's heart. Hermione taught me that a long time ago, and I couldn't help the glassy sheet that appeared on my eyes.
Oh, how much I have changed over the years.
Anyways, back to the plan. As I was playing with the piece of bling, I decided that I could go back a few years, back to when I was eleven and make her hate me. I would hate myself for hurting her, but –I hope- in this other time, she'll hate me and won't die. I hope this will be a mere childhood memory.
I will protect her. I will, and I must. I mean, I can still fancy the living crap out of her, but I can't show it. Conceal it, just feel it. I'm going to try with all my heart to try and not let my love for her to eat away my wisdom. I just can't.
I can't let her die in the hands of the enemy.
XXX
Two months past, and it was August 5th of 1999, two months after my 19th birthday. I hugged Harry and Ginny after telling them my plan with the Time Turner. I flicked the ring so it turned 8 months back to August 5th of 1991, 2 months after I become 11. He closed his eyes, but he felt nothing. No agony, no pain, no depression.
I waited until September the 1st, where I boarded the Hogwarts Express. Where I start my first year. Where I can change the future.
I devoted the next years of my life to make her hate me. Call her 'Mudblood', 'Know-It-All', and insult her. I felt horrible, but I need her to hate me.
The first year, wasn't much. Actually, I didn't recall much. I remembered to just be slightly disliked, nothing more. You know, I didn't feel like making her hate me this year, because her two future friends already did enough. But I did quite annoy her by taking a Gryffindor's Remembrall, I think it was Longbottom.
Second year, I remember calling her a 'Mudblood', then make Hermione's friend make himself puke out slugs. I heard that she was crying afterwards, I felt so horrible… Then there was this basilisk, and unfortunately, paralysing her. Well, at least she didn't die. I visited her body many times, I wanted to touch her, to stroke her hair, but alas, if someone was to see me, I'm in trouble. I managed to stroke her once, but then she suddenly fell out of her trance. I recall her calling me a 'stalker' and running away. And afterwards, I bawled my eyes out.
Third to fifth year continued on like this, like childhood enemies. But in the sixth year, I was tasked to kill. I couldn't stand it, I had also let the enemy in school. And when I mean 'enemy', I mean Harry's enemy. I failed the second task: to kill. Snape, eventually did it for me. If I was really with the Dark Lord, I may have found that embarrasing. But it wasn't it was relieving.
Hermione would really hate me now.
I still love her though, this is what got me into into this mess.
Seventh year, she never came back to Hogwarts. I didn't attend either, I was too busy following orders from the Dark Lord. At the last battle, me and my two friends I used to call bodyguards were facing off.
"Now my girlfriend, you numpties!" I heard a voice said, my blood boiled rage, yet I tried to cool down. A red fire snake chased after us, Goyle died, burned alive; but they managed to save me and Blaise.
At the showdown between Voldemort and Harry Potter, me and my parent escaped. Coward, we were, cowards…
XXX
"…You are here for…" The man read the list, "Attempted murder, using unforgivables, leading Death Eaters into Hogwarts…" The list went on and on and on, "What would you say for yourself?" He finally looked into my eyes.
"I find myself guilty; guilty, guilty, guilty." I shook my head and lowered it.
The corners of the man's mouth lifted slightly, "You earned yourself a lifetime sentence in Azkaban." Azkaban, Azkaban… Why is it always Azkaban? "Any last words?"
I nodded wearily, "I would like to speak to Hermione… I don't mind if I do it here." The man looked at me curiously, but he sent someone for the love of my life.
"What do you want?" Hermione spat, looking at me with intense coldness, "Haven't you done enough?"
I cringed, but I told my story, "In an alternative universe, Hermione, you loved me. In exchanged, you were killed." A tear rolled down my cheek, "I fell into depression, I wanted to die… But Harry removed anything that would do just the thing. On my birthday, he gave me this… This timeturner. And I made you hate me ever since, so that you won't get killed." I broke down after I said that, no more dignity at all anymore. I croaked, "I can go now."
The metal cuffs opened and I stumbled forwards. I started to go to the starving dementors, but Hermione stopped me. "Is it true? You loved me?"
I shook my head, "I still do, Hermione." And I left.
"I'll visit," I heard Hermione whisper.
"I'll visit you, Draco Malfoy."