The Slytherin Locket - Prologue

By phantomhivess

Azkaban. The vile word lingered on her tongue, burning it, as if it was venomous. Her brunette curls, which cascaded down her back, were very untamed and filthy. She couldn't have even called it "brunette" anymore, since it resembled the color of…charcoal. Yes, that was the right word to describe it.

Her pale skin glistened under the moon light that somehow reached her prison cell. Hermione trailed her soft fingers over her battle scars that never healed. She read out the words "mudblood" that still seemed horrendous to her, even after a year.

It had been a year, since she lost everything. A year, since she had stayed in Azkaban as a prisoner, thanks to Voldemort. Harry was nowhere to be found, and nobody dared to utter the name of the Boy Who Lived.

She believed he would come back. She had believed in him since first year, when he mumbled a quiet apology to her because of his behavior. She had believed him, even when no one else did, when he said he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire. She had trusted him, when he said Voldemort was back and killed Cedric Diggory. And now, she believed that he would save her and that together they would re-build Order of Phoenix.

A year ago, she might have scoffed at the possibility of being stuck in Azkaban. Hermione would have said that the future was bright – she would win the battle, finish Hogwarts, get a job in Ministry, and settle down with Ron. The dreamy scenarios of what could she have had kept repeating in her head, but she knew it would never happen.

Hermione felt stabbing pain and she clutched her head, as if it would bring any relief to her. The dream managed to turn into a horrendous nightmare in a second. It was happening again. Tears were welling up in her eyes, threatening to fall from her eyes any second. She felt that she would pass out soon under the tremendous pain. She tried to focus on a happy memory of her, Ron and Harry, but she couldn't hold onto it long enough.

It felt as if all her joyful memories were slipping away from her and dread started filling her fragile body instead. She couldn't do this anymore. She wanted to scream, thrash and shout, but only a sob escaped her mouth. She sank to her knees, placing her head against the cool wall. There was nothing left for her anymore.

"Granger…" The words seemed so foreign to her, who was Granger? Hermione Granger was the brightest witch of the century, a member of golden trio, a loyal friend to Harry Potter, and the destroyer of horcruxes. She doesn't exist anymore though – she was no one.

"Granger!" The harsh voice seemed to get persistent, and she opened her eyes to see who it was. Before she could comprehend who was standing in front of her, her magic pushed the person away from her, making the person stumble across the room. Alarmed and horrified, she scrambled to rise from the floor. Even though there were wards against magic in Azkaban, her magic was becoming accustomed to it and had already accumulated to some point. It could break through the wards slightly. She needed a little more time, just a little more time, so she could fully break it down.

"What the heck, you mud- Granger!" He screeched with disbelief, staring at her wide-eyed. She gasped at his appearance: a pale, sneering face, blue eyes and platinum blond hair – the traits of a Malfoy. What was Draco Malfoy doing on a lone island with dementors, standing in her prison cell?

"M-Malfoy!" The words came out forced, as she hadn't used her voice in a long time, "What are you doing here, Draco?! If Voldemort finds you here…"

Draco decided to join Harry's side at the last minute during the battle, which helped him gain the upper hand.

Draco changed sides at the last minute during the battle, helping Potter to gain an upper hand, but it still resulted in his disaster. Even though Draco was there to help him and attended some meetings of Order of Phoenix, she still didn't trust him as much as she trusted the other members.

"Merlin, what's that awful smell in this room?" He pinched his nose in a disgusted manner, "You should consider taking a bath, Granger."

"Even though I don't have a wand, I can think of multiple other ways to take care of your attitude." She sneered at him quietly, as she crossed her arms over her chest, "I doubt the reason you are visiting me now is because you miss me."

"You can call it your lucky day, because I'm breaking you out." He said casually, as he tugged her arm towards him.

"Why do you think I'll come with you? You could have switched sides again, and could have followed Voldemort's orders!" She screamed at him, as she tried to swat his hand away from her.

"Fuck, Granger, you're going to attract the Dementors – if they're not coming already, that is." He whispered harshly, as he tried to silence her. The dementors weren't under the Ministry's control anymore, they were simply under the influence of the Dark Lord. If they found them here, let's say he'd earn himself a cell next to Hermione.

The temperature dropped drastically in the room – it was getting so cold that all Hermione could do was clutch her body tightly to herself. The painful headaches were coming back and her sanity was slowly crumbling. She even forgot the presence of a Malfoy in the cell, as she slid down the wall and began rocking back and forth.

Draco's eyes widened in realization, and he started fumbling in his pockets to find his valuable possession that could save them now. He finally found the enchanted hourglass that he was searching for; it was a time-turner created by Theodore Nott.

"Granger, take my hand!" His words echoed in the room, but it's as if she didn't hear anything. But she forced herself to collect her thoughts and focus on something that made her happy, for one last time. She finally understood how Draco was going to break her out – by the use of a time-turner, but wasn't the last functioning one destroyed by Voldemort? Now she had no time to think and dive into logical explanations. As the dementors began filling the room, she grasped the hand of Draco tightly and looked at him with determined expression. Just one last time, she would fight. One last time, she would try to save Harry and Ron.

With that, Draco turned the time-turner, sending them back to 1942.