Hanging by a Moment

Chapter One – It All Falls Down

When you've been locked up for a year, you tend to think. A lot. You think about your life, the lives of your friends, hell, and the lives of your enemies too. You think about everything, because there is everything to think about, and you think about everything you would do if everything you knew and loved was taken away.

Hermione didn't understand why she let herself think these thoughts; she had no control what went on outside the thick walls of the Malfoy dungeons. She heard from the numerous guards and various deatheaters that the side she had forsaken her freedom to defend was quickly losing, and the unthinkable was suddenly very common and everyday occurrences. Hermione knew that her beloved Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall were dead, killed in a battle to defend the very last safe place in the entire magical world- Hogwarts. Hogwarts soon fell, and was turned into a fortress, a trophy if you please, for Voldemort and all his followers.

Hermione sobbed for days when a particularly nasty deatheater came to tell her the news of the departure of the Weasley family. Percy had turned against his family, seduced by the lure and temptation that only Voldemort could provoke in a young and impressionable man. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, along with five of their seven children were dead. Ron had been hiding with Harry when the red-haired family was poisoned in their home.

Hermione's own parents were wiped out long before she was captured. She didn't think there could be very many muggles left, muggleborns for that matter; in fact, she didn't quite understand why she was still breathing herself.

She figured she had been forgotten. Oh, not forgotten in the neglected way, the guards still fed her enough to keep going, and torment her enough with stories of her friends and their falls to give her haunting, horrific dreams that leave her in a cold sweat every night. But as far as the boss's, Voldemort and Lucius, she was left to simply exist.

Speaking of a Malfoy, She had rarely seen Draco in the three-hundred-sixty-five plus days she had been in his home. Oh sure, at first he was down with her everyday, relaying stories of the muggle killings and the various battles his master had won, but lately Hermione hadn't seen the shocking flash of white-blonde hair or the intense grey eyes of her former classmate.

Of course, Hermione wasn't awake all the time. Deep in the night, after re-adjusting herself to the cool dampness of her cell, the skittering of small claws of rats on the stone floor, and the annoyingly merry jingle of her cell key in the hands of the watchman, Hermione herself was studied very intently, by a pair of equally intent eyes.

Draco prided himself in having a thorough understanding of the human nature. A need for power, a hunger for respect, a greed for gold was what he knew, but to Draco, Hermione was an enigma, something that existed in his world, but fit in like a soggy puzzle piece-just barely.

Draco often wondered what it would be like to have a conversation with Hermione. He knew she was brilliant, she could easy match him on the intellectual level, although his pureblood pride made him sneer down at her in school…secretly, he wanted to just talk to her, just to see what made her tick.

He was even jealous of her at times. Hermione was the kind of person that demanded to be listened to, to be heard. She did things that many people (including him) scoffed at her for, but she stuck to her guns and kept fighting, and in the end sacrificing her freedom. Draco never really got a chance to do any of that sort of thing, or at least that's what he told himself. He sometimes wished that he could be heard, that he could make a difference in the way the world worked around him, but he couldn't, not with his father and his master around.

Draco was getting bored of the war. In all honesty, he didn't really care who won, he just wanted it over with. Draco had seen too much, heard too much, done too much to even care anymore. He wished Potter would hurry up and defeat Voldemort, because Harry had to defeat him, it was the way the world worked.

Harry was another secret Draco had. After becoming a deatheater, Draco was exposed to the very things that made Harry who he was today. Draco saw whole families wiped out, hell, he saw the Weasleys get wiped out. He saw what Harry had lived through in the form of Voldemort, and silently respected his former classmate for still being alive. Maybe the dark haired boy was made out of stronger stuff than what people thought, Draco included.

And that's how Draco deducted that the light side would win. Even though Dumbledore had gone down with Hogwarts, surely the golden boy couldn't fail; fate couldn't possibly be that cruel.

But then again, fate is a tricky thing, and fate led Draco to a night that would change his life forever.

Early on a dreary Tuesday morning, one of Draco's personal house elves woke him with a simpering whine.

"Master Lucius wishes to see you sir!" The house elf said breathlessly, and before Draco could yell, or hit, or even open his eyes, the elf was gone.

Draco dragged himself out of bed and attempted to wake up. He threw about some charms for this and that and descended the large front staircase of the manor, and into his father's study.

"Father?" Draco asked uncertainly, "You wished to see me?"

Lucius Malfoy was certainly looking well these days. His long blonde hair was tied at the nape of his neck with a piece of dark green velvet, and his robes were of matching color, probably costing a small fortune in itself. He was standing at one of the large oak bookcases, a large tome in his hands. He looked up casually at his son, meeting the stormy grey eyes that they shared.

"Draco, today will be a day that people will very well remember for hundreds and hundreds of years from now," Lucius paused, waiting for his son to prompt him. When no sound escaped his son's lips, Lucius continued.

"Today is the day Harry Potter will die."

Draco would have sniggered at the terribly cliché phrase his father had used, but the look his father had in his eyes made Draco go cold all over. He meant it, today was it. Draco was getting his wish; the war would be over today.

Hermione woke with a start. Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest she wanted to whisper for it to be quiet. Something was happening right then, but she had no idea what it was, and no way to stop it.

Draco's boots pounded loudly in the halls of Hogwarts. Although far from the school it used to be, everything around him was still the same. The trophy room remained untouched, the classrooms much as they were the day the students left, and the great halls ceiling was still reflecting the grey sky that was outside.

Draco walked through the halls, feeling lost in a place that once felt like a home. He passed a portrait of a young girl and boy, the first heads of Hogwarts. Even they seemed to feel the deadly calm that was upon them. Draco moved onward.

At last he arrived at his destination. He pulled open the portrait of a very large woman in a pink dress and climbed through the doorway she was hiding.

Bright splashes of scarlet and gold met his silver eyes. A roaring fire was in the fireplace of the Gryffindor common room, even though no one had been there in a year. The house elves were deadly loyal until the end.

Draco walked over to the fireplace, it was so warm in here, so unlike his own dungeon commons, which were always damp, no matter how big a fire they had. He stepped over to one of the armchairs in front of the fire and sank down onto it and closed his eyes. He was so tired, and the day ahead of him was approaching like a terrible storm, quiet until it was right upon you.

Hermione was sitting in her cell, huddled in a corner. She had her knees drawn up to her chest and she hugged them tight. She longed for something soft to hold, a blanket, a teddy bear, Harry or Ron, anything to make the feeling she had go away. Hermione suddenly felt like she was the only living thing in Malfoy Manor, and maybe the entire world.

She felt the shift in energy, she could feel something coming at her, like a speeding locomotive, but as she waited for the collision, nothing came, just the sound of water in another cell, and her soft cries for her friends.

Draco woke up to the sound of a deafening explosion. He hadn't meant to fall asleep! He raced to one of the windows and looked at the scene that was unraveling under him.

Creatures of every shape and size battled it out amongst the various wizards and witches, both good and evil. Dementors where kissing all whom they could, including deatheaters, whereas giants were fighting giants, unsure of whom they were actually going after.

Draco saw people he recognized at once. He saw Hagrid, who stuck out amongst the smaller wizards; Hagrid was sticking deatheaters left and right with his little pink umbrella. Draco recognized his former defense against the dark arts professor, Remus Lupin, as he tore apart the enemies with his hands as well as his wand; he was a force to be reckoned with. Draco saw his own father, killing one of the Creevy brothers, alongside Goyle senior and Knott, they all looked like they were having a disturbingly good time.

Draco's eyes flashed through the scene. A girl with bubblegum pink hair was fighting beside Padma Patil, and Bellatrix Black was Avadaing every single person in her path, not even taking the time to crucio anymore.

Draco continued to search, almost frantically, for a flash or red hair and a skinny black haired boy with glasses, but Potter and Weasley seemed to be absent, until…

Draco saw Peter Pettigrew, a disgusting man who resembled a very large rat, Apparate out of no where, followed closely by a man so snake-like, it had to be Voldemort. Draco also saw that as soon as the dark Lord himself arrived on the scene, fashionably late, so-to-speak, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley materialized from under what looked like an invisibility cloak.

Draco had to grin to himself. Of course Harry had been there the whole time; he probably wouldn't have missed this battle for the world. Then again, this battle was for the world. He wondered how Voldemort managed to Apparate on Hogwarts grounds though; Draco had read in some book it was impossible.

It was as though a separate battle was going on, the main battle on the left of the Hogwarts grounds raged on without looking like it was ever going to end…and then the smaller battle on the right, which consisted of only four people.

The four men seemed to look at each other in the eye in turn before anyone moved. Draco, from up in the tower, could practically feel the energy radiating off of Harry. Draco felt that if he moved he was going to bring all of Gryffindor tower down with him, and so he stayed in placed, transfixed by what he was witnessing.

Harry and Ron started to fire curses at Wormtail, curse after curse, hurling everything they could at the overgrown rat. Voldemort look on, with an expression of harsh amusement on his snake-like face.

Finally Wormtail started to reflect the onslaught of beams of light. He fired a few back as well, but nothing strong enough to severely hurt Harry and his best friend.

"YOU'RE NOTHING PETTIGREW!" Harry screamed through the cries of others. "YOU ARE AS WORTHLESS AS A MAN AS YOU WERE A FRIEND! MY FATHER WAS TWICE THE MAN YOU'LL EVER BE, AND YOU HAD SEVENTEEN YEARS TO BETTER YOURSELF! YOU'RE DEAD WORMTAIL!"

"You know n-nothing Potter!" Peter shouted back in a terrified and mildly squeaky voice. "Your f-father was a conceited g-git! Him and Sirius d-deserved what they got, and now, you're going to join them!" Peter took a shaky breath and looked like he was about to pass out cold when- "A-avada Kedavra!"

Harry saw the green beam of light hurling towards him, and closed his eyes for a split second. He felt the wind get knocked out of him as the light reflected off of him, as though he had on an invisible shield. Suddenly, Harry remembered.

"YOU OWE YOUR LIFE TO ME PETTIGREW!" Harry shouted. "A LIFE DEBT TO YOUR BEST FRIENDS SON! IT BOUNCED OFF!"

"And yet, the spell wasn't wasted," Peter said in a deadly calm as he gazed at the ground behind Harry, an evil grin had formed on his lips. Startled, Harry followed the rats gaze…right down to Ron's lifeless body.

Hermione screamed as though she was getting shot through with the crutacious curse. She bolted up from her huddled position in the cell and looked around wildly. She ran to the bars of her cells and screamed out for a guard, but there were none. It seemed she was right in thinking the entire Manor was empty. She began to pace and bite her dirty nails. Something was happening! Something bad was happening…

From up in the tower, Draco watched it all with horrified fixation. Weasley just died. The Weasel died. The poor excuse of a pureblood died. Years and years of taunting and fighting flashed like fire before Draco's eyes. He staggered for a moment and then resolutely stood straight up, determined to watch as Harry finished the Dark Lord. Draco continued watching, and choked back something that felt terribly like a sob.

Harry looked up from his best friend's body into the eyes of his murderer.

"You're dead," he whispered in a deadly quiet voice, and before Peter could react, Harry was on top of him punching and hitting. Peter couldn't react to the pre rage that was pouring out of the skinny boy. Harry had enough, Peter had caused him so much pain, and Harry was tired of it. He was tired of hurting. He wanted this traitor to feel the hurt he had endured for the last seventeen years. With one last shoot of strength, Harry plunged his wand straight through Peter's Adams apple.

Peter met Harry's brilliant green eyes for a moment of terror and pain before death glazed them over. Harry wrenched his wand from the rats throat in a daze, before the sound of clapping brought him back.

"Bravo, Potter." Voldemort was standing about five feet away, wearing a terrible grin on his pasty face. "Bravo indeed. It seems you finally did get revenge for your parents."

"I'm not done yet." Harry said through clenched teeth. "I killed their betrayer, but I haven't finished yet with their murderer."

Voldemort gave a somber chuckle. "Look around you boy! Don't you see that you have lost? Don't you see that this is the end of the old era, a new one is rising?"

Harry did look around. He looked to the separate battle going on, and watched as his friends fell to the deatheaters. He knew then, in his heart, there was no side to win for, but there were two deaths he would avenge.

Draco watched from Gryffindor tower as Harry and Voldemort exchanged words and informalities. Draco, however much he hated to admit it, felt his respect for Harry grow. Draco had never seen someone do anything other than cower in front of the Dark Lord, himself included. He watched as Harry and Voldemort glared at each other, both glowing with magical energy. He saw Peter and Ron's bodies on the ground, lifeless and growing cold.

"Are you ready to end this, Boy?" Voldemort hissed to his opponent. Before Harry could even nod, He hit him with the killing curse, Harry reflected it easily with his wand.

"Don't you remember?" Harry shouted as the winds picked up. "Our wands will not fight one another!"

"Of course, Boy," Voldemort said, "That is why I brought this."

From out of his dark cloak, Voldemort pulled out a long, angry looking weapon. It looked like it was either a very long knife, two feet long, or a somewhat short sword. It's handle glittered with onyx and emerald and a serrated edge gave it a look of something that wanted to mutilate its victim, rather than simply kill it.

Harry swore under his breath. He didn't know if the knife had magical properties, but he didn't know if his wand alone would help him now. He suddenly wished he had the sorting hat once more, to bring him the sword that had been in Dumbledore's office. No doubt now some nameless deatheater had a hold of it, that thought alone made Harry seethe with anger.

"Come on boy," Voldemort taunted. "We will see once and for all who is the greater wizard."

Voldemort advanced and Harry ducked the mans blows. Again and again Harry moved, shouting curses the entire way. The knife Voldemort held seemed to give its holder incredible speed, and Voldemort was using it for all it was worth.

Finally, Voldemort disappeared all together, leaving Harry circling around and around wildly, looking for his adversary.

Draco too, looked wildly around the grounds for the Dark Lord. He had apparated, that was apparent, but how? Hogwarts was famous for it's wards to keep anyone from apparating in and out. Voldemort must have destroyed it.

Suddenly, with a huge crack in the air, Voldemort appeared behind Harry and plunged the knife straight through his back. The dark haired boy staggered with shock for a moment, before falling for good. There was no Dumbledore or Ron or Hermione to help him this time.

Draco staggered back himself, and before he decided to apparate, the bone chilling laugh of the victorious Dark Lord rang through his ears.

Draco ran through the guard-less dungeons like a man possessed. He had to see her, he needed to know that something was still stable in this world that finally turned completely upside down. He wanted to see Hermione Granger alive, even though he had just witnessed two parts of her die.

And he did find her. Fumbling with the lock an his wand, he managed to open the wrought iron cell bars and found her crumpled in a heap on the far corner of her cell.

"Granger!" He yelled at her, falling to her side. He shook her but to no avail. "GRANGER! Come on Hermione! Wake up!"

And to her surprise, she did. She opened her eyes wide to being yelled at, and they immediately hardened at what she saw in front of her. Draco almost expected her to slap him, like she had so many years ago, but she barely had enough energy to talk.

"I know, Malfoy," she said in a deathly quiet whisper. "I know they're dead. I felt them die. I died."

Draco didn't know what to say, or what to do. He didn't even know why he was there, holding a mudblood in his arms in a cell he locked for the first time himself. But there he was. There he was holding on to the last thing that felt familiar to him.

"I saw them die." He said, not unkindly. Hermione closed her eyes. "I saw then die, Granger, and they died honorably. Pettigrew killed Weasley, and Potter killed Pettigrew. The Dark Lord killed Potter. And that was it."

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked, her eyes still closed. "How can you be so cruel?" Tears were falling down her cheeks.

"I saw them die." Draco continued, I've seen a lot of people die. I killed a lot of people. But Potter was supposed to win! He was meant to live! Nothing good can come out of this world anymore. The light has gone out forever." Draco looked down at her, and was started to see that he was crying, and one of his own tears had just grazed Hermione's cheek.

Hermione suddenly opened her eyes. Why was he crying? He sounded so sorry…so lost. She cried harder and reached out to hold on to him. She was lost too.

Draco didn't know what to do now. The war was done. His fate was sealed. He should have been happy, but here he was, in a dirty dungeon, holding onto a girl he spent the better part of his life learning how to hate.

They sat there for ages. Both crying silently, and both holding on to their last anchor in a world that was falling away from them.

Potter never had a chance. Draco thought. He had no warning, no idea what was coming. All he had was a wand, and his wits. He was a Gryffindor, they don't have wits. If only I could change it, if only I could go back and make a difference…

And then it came to him like a bolt of lightning. Back! Back in time! Was he a wizard or not? The answer was so simple, yet so genius, he thought for a moment about transferring to Ravenclaw…that is, if it worked, and there was a Ravenclaw to go transfer to.

"A time turner!" He said aloud, jerking Hermione up from her thoughts.

"What?" She asked, clearly confused.

"A time turner! He said again, growing increasingly excited. "I can go back, warn Potter…And Weasley too." He said in an afterthought. "I will tell them, tell them how to change the future, how to win! They didn't have a chance, I can set things right!"

Hermione sat up and wiped her eyes with a dirty piece of her robes.

"That's a good idea…" she said slowly, trying to make her brain focus. "But you don't know where the Order's base is located, and do you really think they will believe you?"

Draco stopped short. He hadn't got that far. "Come with me." He said after a moment. "They'll believe you, and you know where they would be."

"Why should I listen to this?" Hermione asked angrily. "I show you where the base is, and then you'll have everything you need for a clean sweep of the few decent people left!"

Draco's eyes clouded over. "The few decent people left are dead, Granger." He said. "I watched them all die. There is nothing decent left, and now I'm offering you a way to change it. Don't let your pride stand in the way this time. Come with me."

Hermione thought for a few seconds, and then something in her brain clicked. A time turner was a powerful device, and as far as she knew, Draco didn't know how to use one, but she did.

"Have you ever used a time turner before?" She asked. "Do you know how to operate one? Because too many turns can have very different results from what you started out with."

"No," Draco admitted. "I never used one. "I only know where my father keeps his, I'm sure it can't be too hard."

"I know how to use one." Hermione said, somewhat proudly. "I used one throughout our entire third year. "I'll come with you."

Draco's eyes widened. This was it. "Follow me," he said. "All the guards are gone, but we haven't got a lot of time."

"What about my wand?" Hermione asked. "I want it, I don't feel safe without it."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, but she seemed completely honest about not feeling safe. "It's in my fathers study, along with everything else, we'll get it."

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. She coughed like mad but didn't complain, and he led the way out of the dungeon and into the manor.

Hermione didn't have time to marvel at the vastness that was Draco's home, but if she did, she would have stopped dead and let her mouth hang open. It was easily the same size as Hogwarts, at least what she could see of it, and although the air was thick with dark magic and dread, she had to admit that the Malfoy's had impeccable taste.

Draco led her through the door into a very large study; it was filled with eerie looking books and loads of parchment. To the left she saw a galas case filled with hundreds of wands, but she easily spotted hers. She pointed it out to Draco, and he retrieved it for her.

"Don't try anything." He said warningly. "I really am trying to help."

Strangely enough, Hermione believed him, and almost felt bad about what she was going to do, but his own words rang in her ears. This was a way to change everything. And change everything was exactly what she was going to do.

Hermione had nothing left. Everyone, everything she loved was dead and gone. Hermione was a changed woman. Seventeen years old and already seen more than her fair share of pain, something inside of her finally snapped. She could change everything. Everything! And the strange thing was, Draco Malfoy was giving her the opportunity to do just that, quite unknowing of course.

"Here it is!" Draco's victorious cry sounded across the room. He was at his fathers desk, a large drawer open in front of him.

Hermione saw the time turner. It was different than the ministry issued one she received when she was thirteen. They were similar in structure, but this turner was silver and black, whereas the ministry one was gold and white.

"An evil time turner," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "How lovely."

"It's not evil!" Draco said angrily. "It was just made for my father is all. It has a forward and back device, so you don't get stuck somewhere. It's, er, well, let's just say it aided our side quite a bit."

"You mean you cheated?" Hermione said shrilly. "You cheated in the war by using time?"

Draco felt his face grow warm with anger. "That's funny." He said coolly. "You don't seem to mind cheating if it benefits you."

Hermione shrugged and walked over to Draco and took the time piece.

"You know how to work it?" Draco asked. "You know how many turns to use? I was thinking we would just go back a day, you know, to give us enough time and all."

Hermione merely nodded, almost afraid of what to do next. She knew how to use time turners alright, she knew how to use them inside out, she read all about them…but she didn't know if her next move was a smart one…there was so much at stake. Most of which she already lost.

"Grab my hand." Hermione said quietly.

Draco looked at her. "I thought we both just had to wear the necklace. That's what my father did.

"Your father is an idiot." Hermione said flatly, "Take my hand or I'm leaving you here."

Draco didn't know what had come over her, but did as he was told.

Hermione took a breath, a vision of Harry and Ron floating in her mind, and before Draco could stop her…

Hermione threw the fragile turner to the stone floor and shouted "1977!" It blew up and shattered into a million tiny pieces, hurling glass and dust everywhere.

With that, the two of them went hurling into space, knocked unconscious by the blast.

(A/N)

Okay, just in case you're confused… Remember, I started writing this after the Order of the Phoenix came out, so consider it slightly AU. I'm disregarding everything in HBP and DH. As for the time turner smashing…Hermione had read somewhere that by breaking a time turner, you really can screw up time, therefore, she smashed the turner on the ground and yelled out the year she wanted, because these turners aren't made for year jumps, merely hours. Draco, obviously, didn't know she was going to change EVERYTHING, but she is. This fic is not about going by the rules of time, Hermione has lost everything she ever cared about, and now she's going to change it all. I have the next three chapters written, I just want to go over them again for mistakes