Disclaimer: I do not own any plot similar to that of TTW and HP. Those would belong to the brilliant Audrey Niffenegger and J.K. Rowling.

A/N: This does not follow canon of The Deathly Hallows.

Summary: Inspired by The Time Traveler's Wife. Draco has been cursed with the ability to time travel. It is something that he cannot control. Why is it that he keeps on finding himself at various stages of Hermione's life?


A Sense of Permanence

Chapter One

May 1, 1998

Malfoy Manor

Wiltshire, England

There was an approximation of twenty Death Eaters present that evening, seated facing each other. At the head of the rectangular table sat none other than the Dark Lord himself.

"Albus Dumbledore still lives."

His voice came out in an angry hiss.

The flames in the fireplace crackled in response. There was only silence from the audience in attendance. It was no secret whose negligence had led to this apocalyptic mistake. As if on cue, all heads turned to stare at the empty chair beside Amycus Carrow, where the infamous Potions professor at Hogwarts once sat.

"It appears that Severus Snape has betrayed us all."

A low murmur broke around the room.

"SILENCE!"

Another hiss. This was one, sounding less human. A gargantuan emerald green snake appeared from the shadows, slithering onto the table like a queen looking down on her servants. Voldemort ran his skeletal fingers across her scaly skin. The Death Eaters repressed their shudders.

That snake could sense fear. They used to say.

"Lucius." Voldemort stated calmly.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Bring in your son."

Lucius Malfoy's eyes flickered for a brief moment before nodding. "Dinky!" He snapped. A shivering house elf materialized beside him.

"You called, master?"

"Draco is summoned by the Dark Lord."

...

Draco did not need to be told that he was summoned. He had already felt the burning sensation on his inner left forearm seconds before Dinky's appearance in the tea room. Narcissa, who had been in the room with him, had clasped her son's arm with a trembling grip, a mixture of worry and fear crossing her porcelain features.

"I'll be fine, mother." Was the only consolation he could give her at the moment. However, standing outside the conference room's brilliant oak doors, he felt the heaviest amount of dread start to weigh on his shoulders. Do or die, Draco.

He entered.

"Young Malfoy."

"My lord," Draco automatically responded, bowing his head in respect.

"Come closer."

In the presence of the Dark Lord, never hesitate. Do not show fear. Show him that you are worthy. His father's words. A mantra drilled into his head.

He stepped closer, keeping his gaze on the stone wall.

"Do you deem yourself worthy to be a Death Eater, boy?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then you shall accept the task that I am designated to you, and to you alone. Do you think you can accomplish that - young Draco?"

There was a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he found it impossible that someone as young, someone as inexperienced as Draco could ever accomplish such a feat, and Draco had not even given him a proper response yet.

"Anything for you, master." His voice came out in a dull monotone.

"Very well then." Voldemort raised his wand and flicked it once. His lipless mouth moved in accordance. That was when Draco felt his entire body jut forward, until he felt himself not more than a meter away from Voldemort's atrocious face. He reeked of death.

Something cold wove itself around Draco's neck. He swallowed nervously.

"Your mission, my dear boy, is to kill Albus Dumbledore with the aid of - this time turner." Draco glanced down in surprise. Indeed, it was. "It's a simple enough task, one that I am certain you will have no trouble completing." His beetle-black eyes glinted cruelly.

"And if I fail?"

Draco could feel his father's eyes boring into the back of his eyes. A foolish question, without a doubt, but Draco had to know. This was no ordinary task. This was - Dumbledore, one of the most powerful wizards in history. Did the Dark Lord really think that a boy, not even a quarter of the Headmaster's age, could defeat him?

"If you fail," Voldemort flicked his wand again. Smoke billowed from his right side, slowly rising, only to reveal a woman, face stricken with tears. Draco's chest tightened.

"Narcissa?"

Lucius Malfoy was obviously startled to see his wife in the room.

"Problem, Malfoy?"

Lucius's face clouded over as Narcissa imploringly stared at her husband with pleading eyes . He cleared his throat and looked away. "None at all, master. Do as you wish with her." This caused a fresh wave of tears from his wife.

"I think, young Malfoy, you have already gathered the answer to your question."


May 2, 1998

Hogwarts Castle

Scotland, Great Britain

There was a roaring in his ears, so loud that it was such that he could no longer hear the surrounding chaos. It seemed that everywhere he looked, bodies were falling. The grassy field cushioning their fall and staining themselves with blood redder than wine. He could barely feel anything, not the gash on his forehead, nor the aching in his legs as they carried him across, ducking every now and then as bright flashes of light flew from every direction.

He did not know where he was going. He only knew that he needed to find his mother.

The Dark Lord had been right. Draco could not go through with his mission. Instead, he accepted Dumbledore's offer of safety for both himself and his mother. That turned out to be futile, however, as the Death Eaters came for him during the moment itself. Bellatrix Lestrange killed Dumbledore without batting an eyelash, and Draco had made a mad dash for it.

It was amazing how no one had come after him. It seemed that everyone had become preoccupied with the battle.

Everyone, that is, save for his father.

He had halted his son mid-track just before his exit from the Astronomy Tower. Your mother is somewhere out there. Go find her before the Dark Lord does.

It stunned him that his father still had a soul. Reenergized, Draco had emerged from the castle only to find himself among the beginnings of a war.

The Battle had begun

He had caught sight of many familiar faces. Neville Longbottom, innocence long gone. A great number of Weasleys, red hair aflame. Several of his fellow housemates, wands brandished without pause.

That had been exactly one hour ago.

He stumbled behind a tree to catch his breath. The stench of death was thick in the air.

How many?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

A familiar scream reverberated somewhere near him.

No.

The thought of fleeing vanished completely from his brain and he found himself dashing across the field towards a woman clothed in black, her pale hair glittering underneath the moonlight. He was barely ten feet away when he was hit directly in the chest. The spell sent him to his knees. White hot pain exploded in his chest. His fingers grasped at his cloak as he tried to suck in air. Panic rose in his throat just as he saw something rise from his cloak.

Impossible.

The time turner linked around his neck was floating right in front of him, gleaming a blinding silver.

But when he screamed, it was not one of terror. It was one of despair. For in his peripheral vision, he saw a jet of green light heading straight for his mother's heart.

"NO!"

The last thing he saw before his world went black was a familiar shape jumping in front of his mother, taking the Killing Curse for himself.


A/N: Does this pique your interest? Shall I continue? Do let me know! :)