When Hermione felt herself coming to, the first thing she noticed was that she was in a ridiculously comfortable bed. She smiled, stretched, and decided to try to keep dreaming for as long as possible. Unfortunately, it only took a matter of seconds for her to remember exactly what had happened the night before. Governor Swann turned into the sweet older gentleman she expected, but Hermione was constantly on her guard. Considering she barely would have known how to act in the wizarding world had she accidentally gone back nearly three centuries, she felt almost entirely out of her elements here and now. After all, her elementary school teachings barely went in depth about the British colonies. She recalled Jamaica, and Port Royal being one of the last few ports in this period that was not friendly to piracy, even privateers under the Queen, but that would all change in time. Otherwise, she knew very little about cultural norms and customs. For now, she decided to try to be on her best behaviour, avoid any obscenely modern slang, and hope to inquire about someone who could fix glass objects as soon as possible. She wasn't exactly sure where Voldemort and Lucius spent the night, but as she rolled around in her plush bed in the guest bedroom, she almost didn't care. This was the first real bed she had slept on since last summer, and she wanted to savour every ounce of it. While on the run, she, Harry and Ron usually slept on cots, and they rotated who got the more comfortable one.

But this… This was sheer perfection! They pulled up to a grandiose manor atop a hill after a short drive from where Swann picked Hermione up. She was a little hesitant at first, but when the solider who helped her out of the carriage smiled politely, she felt herself softening. A maid greeted Hermione and the governor when they entered the manor's lofty foyer, complete with a golden chandelier and curving staircase up to a second floor. There seemed to be expensive, thin rugs left, right and centre, along with colourful bouquets of tropical flowers, suits of armour, and paintings of men in white wigs. In a way, it almost felt like being back in Hogwarts, maybe even the Gryffindor Common Room. They arrived home just as his daughter, who was the same age as Hermione, was getting ready to go to bed, and it seemed like he was quite excited for the two to meet. When they did, Hermione understood why he thought they looked alike. She might have been a little more tan, this Elizabeth Swann, but she was roughly Hermione's height, had the same long brown hair, thin lips, and nose that jutted out delicately at the end. They also both had dark brown eyes, a relatively petite figure, with a small bust and miniscule hips. They wouldn't pass as twins, but sisters for sure.

Elizabeth kindly welcomed Hermione to her home, and when her father explained Hermione's "tragic story", the one she made up on the spot, the girl seemed remarkably interested in having a night gab. However, the maid stepped in, a Londoner if Hermione had ever heard one, and insisted that both girls ought to get some sleep before anything happened. So, Hermione and Elizabeth made a polite plan to have tea tomorrow afternoon so they could discuss her recent tragic loss. Hermione was then led off to a room down the hall from Elizabeth's, and the maid helped her strip down and change into something a little more appropriate. She insisted that she keep her old clothes, and planned to hide them away in her never-ending bag, but the maid wouldn't give them back until she washed them properly. It seemed fair, since her jeans had definitely seen better days, but she had to make sure she got them back before she left. Not that she figured she would get herself sorted by tomorrow, but the less time she spent in Port Royal, the better.

For now, she didn't see a problem basking in a few momentary luxuries. When her body finally decided it was time to get up, the girl rolled out of bed and nearly danced across the tiled floor, drawing back her curtains to reveal the glorious scenery. The island was absolutely stunning. She had a view that overlooked the port, with crystal blue waters in the distance, and a rather large hill to the far left covered in the richest green plants she had ever seen. After fiddling with the lock a little, she managed to open the window and allow the salty air to roll in. After living in England for her entire life, this was marvellous. Why hadn't she gone somewhere tropical sooner? There was a soft knock on her door, and she flinched, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest.

"Miss?" came the soft voice of the maid from last night, "Are you awake?"

"O-Oh…" Hermione laughed, running a hand through her slightly ratty hair, "Yes, come in."

The maid popped her head and smiled, and then stepped inside, "I thought I heard the window open… Would you like to join Governor Swann for breakfast? My mistress is never up to eat with him. I'm sure he would like the company."

"Yes, that would be very nice," Hermione said decidedly, grasping the long, flowered overcoat that had been left hanging on a hook by the window. She assumed it was meant to act as some sort of dress robe, because it certainly wasn't appropriate to go downstairs in her nightgown. It was one with a fitted bodice just under her chest, and then fell loosely to the ground. It was modest yet not all in one.

"How did you sleep?" the maid inquired as Hermione followed her out of the room.

"Wonderfully," she sighed as she buttoned up the top pearl button of her robe. "I really must thank you for your hospitality."

"He's a generous man, Governor Swann," the woman chuckled brightly. "Never one to turn away a stray… Especially one that looks so much like his Elizabeth."

Hermione pursed her lips, "Yes. I did … see the similarities."

She hoped this comparison to Elizabeth would stop soon, because it was already starting to get a bit repetitive. However, she heard it another few times as the maid led her through the manor and introduced her to other members of the staff, including a butler, a cook and several other maids, all of which were well in their thirties at least. Hermione humoured them the best she could with smiles and agreements that she did indeed look like the other Swann in the household, but found she was quite relieved when she spotted an open set of French glass doors leading to a veranda. It appeared the governor was having his breakfast on a large balcony.

"Ah, Hermione," he beamed as she stepped outside, eyes squinting when they were struck by the strong Caribbean sun. "What a surprise!"

"I hope you don't mind me joining you for some breakfast?" she inquired as the maid pulled out a slender chair for her and began clearing a space in front of her, no doubt to set up another plate and cup.

"Not at all, my dear," the man grinned, turning himself to face her rather than the view. "Elizabeth never joins me for breakfast… I've heard it's best to let young women get their beauty sleep, especially at this age."

Hermione stared at him for a moment, and then realized he was serious. She quickly nodded and thanked the maid as she poured her a glass of juice in what appeared to be a crystal glass.

"Now, how did you sleep?"

"Very well, my lord," she replied as she hesitantly scooped some scrambled eggs and sliced pineapple onto her plate, which was white and rimmed with what appeared to be a family crest. "Thank you so much for letting me stay with you… I wasn't sure what I was going to do with myself."

"Well, I couldn't let you just wander the streets, now could I?" Swann mused, shooting her a quick wink as he sipped daintily on what she guessed was tea, "I sent someone to look for your vessel, but we found nothing in the harbour."

Hermione felt her stomach knot, and she forcefully swallowed her bite, "Ah, yes, well… Someone must have taken it! Oh, those wretches!"

"Yes, you must be careful these days," he sighed, shaking his head. "Though, if you forgot to tie it, it might have drifted out of the harbour."

Yes, that was a much better story. She nodded, "Now that you mention it, I think I did forget to rope it off. I was quite dazed when I arrived."

"And with good reason, I assure you!"

She nodded, "Yes… It's difficult to think about."

"I won't make you relive it," he insisted, "but Elizabeth will be interested in the sailing portion of your journey. She does love the ocean. When we sailed here eight years ago, she wanted nothing more than to meet a pirate!"

She laughed weakly, only to go along with him, and he shook his head, "Silly girl. Can you imagine? Pirates in Port Royal? Absurdity."

"Yes, no doubt."

They sat in silence for some time, perhaps to allow Hermione a chance to get through her breakfast without constantly pausing to speak. It was delicious, but eggs and pineapple seemed to taste the same no matter what year she ate it in. However, she was grateful. If she hadn't been found by Swann, she might have been left stealing something down in town, as she had nothing to offer in terms of payment. She could barter with the endless items in her purse, but she certainly wasn't willing to fork over some of her time's most cherished items for a loaf of hard bread.

"I was wondering if you would like to attend an event today?" Swann asked suddenly, making Hermione's eyebrows shoot up curiously. "The captain of our naval forces here, James Norrington, is being promoted to Commodore today."

"Oh, how lovely for him," Hermione managed, smiling. The governor nodded.

"There will be a ceremony as he ascends up to his new rank, and a bit of a party afterward," the man explained. "I am bringing Elizabeth, but she does get so horribly bored at these things. Would you… be interested in attending as a friend?"

Hermione cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice as friendly as possible, "That sounds wonderful, as long as Elizabeth doesn't mind me coming along."

"Oh, I'm sure she won't!"

Blast. She had wanted to see if she might be able to find someone to fix the Time Turner today, but apparently that would have to wait.

"How long do you think the party will go for?"

"I suspect sometime in the afternoon," Swann replied, tapping his fingers on the table. "Now, I'm not sure if you are interested, but I had some dresses shipped here from England for my girl. You obviously have nothing to wear… Would you like to try them on?"

"Thank you, my lord," Hermione gushed. "You're so very generous."

"Excellent," the man said, rubbing his hands together. "I'll have some maids help you get ready then. We'll be leaving in an hour, and I shall need to get Elizabeth ready at some point. Excuse me."

She nodded as he rose from the table and departed back inside. The man looked ridiculous, by modern standards anyway. A long grey wig, high white socks, a blue jacket with a cravat… Surely this style was all the rage now, but Hermione was just thankful she wouldn't have to wear all those layers in this heat. The breeze was excellent on the balcony, but she was quite sure once they moved further down into the town it would start to become a little unbearable. When she finished with her meal, she found a different maid waiting for her at the doorway to walk her back to her room. She was given some time to freshen up in the lavatory, which was much needed, and when she was ready, they started dressing her. It was at that moment that Hermione regretted her earlier sentiments. Apparently, the governor hadn't ordered only dresses from England, but a few pairs of corsets too. The maids fretted over it, excited to see the latest fashion from London had arrived, and Hermione stood awkwardly for some ten minutes as they laced her into the death contraption.

When they were finally finished, the women gathered around her to examine her miniscule waist. Hermione glanced down at her breasts, which were the biggest she had ever seen them, and tried to breathe, which proved quite difficult with her ribcage constricting her lungs.

"How does it feel?" one of them asked curiously. She licked her lips, suddenly a little lightheaded.

"I… It will take some getting used to," she told them carefully. They carried on with their chatter, as though Hermione wasn't there, and then picked out a dress for her to wear. She wasn't particularly thrilled with its pale pink hue, but it did have wonderful, intricate gold designs around it, and once she was strapped in, she was given the opportunity to look in a full-length mirror. If she was being honest, she looked… different. Hermione hadn't decided if it was a good or bad difference, but she certainly didn't look unattractive. Her hips seemed full, while her waist was small, and her breasts were definitely the largest she had ever seen them. The maids then set about to taming her hair, which took much more effort than the corset, and was actually more painful. She hadn't exactly been looking after her hair since she went on the run some months ago, and it was a long, tangled mess when the women went to work on it. She found it very uncomfortable to sit for so long in a dress and corset, but she managed to not complain as the women tugged and pulled at her hair.

Eventually, she managed to style it into some intricate updo, which Hermione wasn't exactly a huge fan of, but she knew she would appreciate the hair off her neck later. They added a few final touches, including some sort of lip balm to keep hers from drying out, and then a pair of square-toed shoes with the slightest of heels.

"We'll find you a hat before you go," the final maid told her as they scuttled out. "Maybe you should check with Miss Elizabeth to see when you are leaving."

"I will, thank you."

She watched the final woman leave, and then checked to make sure her bag was still where she had left it. Although she had let them take her former clothes, Hermione wasn't about to let this precious item out of her sight. Not only did it have almost everything she ever valued from Hogwarts in it, the Time Turner and Portkey were also nestled down somewhere near the book collection. If she lost those, she was stuck in the eighteenth century forever with Lucius and Voldemort. That wasn't a fate she was willing to succumb to just yet.

After giving herself another once over, Elizabeth sauntered down the long hallway to Elizabeth's room. The door was slightly ajar, and she could vaguely heard her father speaking with someone in the foyer downstairs. She slipped inside the young woman's room, and soon spotted her seated in front of a vanity. She seemed a little paler than last night, but smiled the same smile when she spotted Hermione in the mirror. They looked remarkably similar in their dresses and fancy hairstyles, though Elizabeth seemed to be wearing the blue and silver version of her dress.

"You look pretty," Elizabeth insisted as she rose, grabbing a hat off her bed post and placing it atop her head. "Is that another dress father bought from England?"

"It is-"

"And are you wearing the same ridiculous contraption I am?" she asked, her voice friendly, but her eyes glared down pointedly at her midsection. Hermione grinned a little and nodded, which made Elizabeth roll her eyes, "I can hardly breathe!"

"I've never actually worn one before," Hermione admitted truthfully. "I'm not sure why they were so popular."

"Were?" Elizabeth repeated as she tied her hat's blue sashes down under her chin, "Aren't they quite modern?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said quickly, her cheeks blushing. "I just… I've known women who have worn them before back in England, and they seemed perfectly at ease."

"They must survive without breathing…"

"I agree," Hermione giggled, pleased that she was hopefully making a fast friend. She had never been terribly good at getting on good terms with girls. For some reason, all the girls in her dorm liked her, but never enough to invite her out for private 'girly' things with them. In all honesty, she thought she got along better with boys, but that was just her opinion. "Thank you for letting me come along."

"Thank you for coming," Elizabeth exhaled, her voice dropping. "These things are so boring, and I never have anyone my age to talk to."

Hermione couldn't help but beam; they were definitely going to be on good terms, at the very least, "Well, I'll try to be entertaining then."

"We can talk about your voyage," Elizabeth gushed, "seeing as our afternoon plans have been spoiled."

"Oh… yes, we can," Hermione agreed, fiddling with some of the rough fabric on her dress. "So, who is Norrington?"

"James Norrington," Elizabeth sighed, "is a captain about to become a commodore. My father is especially keen on getting us married."

She seemed less than impressed with the notion, and Hermione gauged from her facial expression and tone that marriage to this Norrington fellow seemed like a bad idea.

"You don't seem too pleased with that," she said tentatively, which made Elizabeth look up quickly and seemingly force a smile.

"Oh, he's a lovely gentleman-"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Hermione insisted, wanting to keep them on friendly terms. "I once had this boy try to… erhm, court me. He took me to this club, the Slug Club, back in England, and it was an absolute nightmare. My friend Harry stepped in, thankfully, and I managed to escape more or less intact."

"Sounds dreadful!"

Hermione frowned; she seemed to play it off as worse than it was. McCormac just couldn't keep his hands to himself back in sixth year. She had only gone to Slughorn's party with him to make Ron jealous, but that plan definitely backfired pretty quickly.

"Oh, he just couldn't keep his hands to himself," Hermione told her, waving it off like it was nothing. "Though… Harry was excellent that night. Why don't I do that for you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know… If you find yourself forced into uncomfortable conversation with him, just give me some signal and I can come rescue you," Hermione explained. That was what girls did for each other whenever there were unnecessary boys involved, wasn't it? She was sure she heard Lavender and Parvati discuss rescuing each other from parties and Hogsmeade visits before. Elizabeth seemed to contemplate the offer, toying with the one ringlet of curly light brown hair that dangled down from her bun, and then suddenly looked up at Hermione, flashing a pearly white smile.

"That actually sounds wonderful!"

"Good," Hermione said with playful smile. "Now, we just need to work out a signal-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, ladies," one of the maids said from the doorway, a pink hat in her hands, "but your father is ready to leave, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth sighed again, and then gave herself one last look in the mirror. She seemed almost as indifferent to the dress and corset as Hermione was, but would no doubt put on a bright face for her father when they saw him next. Hermione held out her hand to accept the hat from the maid, but the woman instead placed it on top of her head and laced it up behind her bun. They looked so alike it was actually a little silly. She wondered if the manor staff had done this on purpose. Though, she had never had a sister before; was this what parents did when they had two girls? Surely not in her era, but in a time where what your father said was the absolute law, it actually wasn't too surprising. She had to keep forcefully reminding herself that she wasn't in the 20th century anymore, but the 18th. Things were certainly going to be different. Suddenly, she stopped, and realized that she had set her bag down in her room.

"One moment," she insisted, holding up a finger, "I forgot my bag. I'll meet you downstairs."

She was quite surprised at how comfortable everything felt. Hermione assumed it was she managed to pluck up some confidence in herself and not shy away from the situation like some little girl. If she hid in her room the entire time, she was bound to struggle out here. She had learned over her seven years at Hogwarts that there was a difference between being arrogant and assertive. Hermione learned that she had to find her own footing in this world, sometimes with the help of her friends, but all the while learn to be confident in her abilities. If she hadn't been quick thinking, or eloquent speaking, she could have ended up in some dingy prison so "assaulting" a guard, as they were bound to put it. However, she steered this incident in a way that worked out well for her. Now, if it meant playing along with Swann's little ceremony and perhaps making friends with Elizabeth for a few days while she got her bearings sorted, then that was what she had to do. It wasn't ideal, or anything, but she was coming to terms with what was required of her to get home in one piece. Besides, she would need time to think. Getting out of here couldn't possibly happen in a day. Also, Hermione was secretly over the moon about being able to study eighteenth century British colonial cultures firsthand. It would have been better if they were wizards too, but beggars can't be choosers. She was living every historian's dream.

After she snatched her bag up and slung it over her shoulder, she hurried back out into the hall, only to fumble when she felt a familiar voice hissing in her ear. She knew exactly who it was. Voldemort had managed to penetrate the minds of witches and wizards from immeasurable distances, so it wasn't all that surprising he was tormenting her from somewhere else in the harbour. Maybe she shouldn't have pushed him off the dock…

Hermione winced and tried to block the sound out, but was forced to lean against the wall for support as it started to get louder and louder. Could everyone else hear this? He was only hissing things like 'Mudblood' and 'Where are you, Mudblood?', but it was still incredibly off-putting. The closest Hermione had ever come to Voldemort was through Harry, and it made her extremely uncomfortable to know she was his sole focus now. With her eyes clenched shut, she felt her head begin to throb, her knees weakening, until finally a hand clutched her arm suddenly. She gasped, startled as the voices stopped instantaneously, only to find herself staring up at one of the older maids, who appeared concerned.

"Are you all right, Miss?" she asked, her eyes imploring as they ran over Hermione's figure, "You looked a fright!"

"I'm fine," Hermione reassured her, nodding slightly despite the quiver in her voice. "I just… I've been getting severe headaches from the sun and sea. They come and go."

The woman shot her a somewhat sceptical look, but said nothing else. Hermione smiled weakly, and then carried on as though nothing had happened, pushing some stray hairs back neatly under her hat. She soon joined Elizabeth and her father downstairs, only to see they had been joined by a rather handsome young man not much older than herself. Dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, a brown jacket, short slacks with high white socks, and kind eyes. He was attractive, but even as Governor Swann introduced her to him, this young Will Turner, she could tell he only had eyes for Elizabeth. He smiled at Hermione, took her hand and kissed it, but looked sheepishly at Elizabeth as the governor explained who he was.

"He's an apprentice blacksmith in Port Royal," the man explained. "We found him shipwrecked on our way from England… Almost like you-"

"A blacksmith?" Hermione said quickly, not meaning to cut him off, but not wanting to lose her idea, "Do you fix glass?"

Will blinked at the direct question, and then cleared his throat, "I have some experience with it, yes."

"Oh, wonderful," Hermione gushed, her eyes wide. "An hourglass of mine broke on the journey here… It has great sentimental value. Do you think you could fix it?"

He looked quickly at the governor, and then licked his lips, "I can try my best, Miss Granger."

"Excellent," she said firmly, patting her bag. "I'll…"

She suddenly trailed off, realizing that she was acting too much like an independent woman of the twentieth century for this kind of situation. Instead, she turned to the governor, her keeper, and asked, "May I see Mister Turner about getting my hourglass fixed today?"

The older man shrugged, "I don't see a problem. I will find someone to escort you after the ceremony… Which we are almost running late for now. Come along, girls."

Hermione shot Will a quick smile and scurried off after the governor, pleased with the sudden turn of events. Elizabeth lingered for only a moment, but soon followed Hermione into the same carriage from the night before. As they rolled way, she noticed her female companion shoot Will a look out the small window on the carriage door, but chose to ask the governor about Port Royal before he could comment on it.

"She isn't far from here," Voldemort mused as he stared out the window of their second storey room, one that he and Lucius had easily taken from its original tenants that night. The people were still alive, unfortunately, but Voldemort ensured they wouldn't wake for a good week or so. He realized that using magic at this point was a mistake. It was dangerous for the fabric of time, but he would fix it when the time was right. For now, he was mildly enjoying himself, despite the sheer anger of being ripped from his glorious final battle with Potter. A part of him was pleased to know that this had worked. They had traveled to a different time and place. Once he had the magical device back in his possession, he could only think of the wonderful things he might be able to do should he be able to effectively toy with time.

"Her mind isn't trained like Potter's," he sighed, stepping away from the window and giving Malfoy a bit of an annoyed look. "She's with the port's governor and his daughter… Off to some … ceremony today. You can take her there."

"Yes, my lord," Malfoy replied wearily as he rubbed his eyes. "Could you tell the type of ceremony?"

"Something for the elite," Voldemort sneered, his eyes narrowing. "You should have no problems."

The man nodded soundlessly, and a thought struck Voldemort, "Though, you must be cautious. These are Muggles. You'll need a plausible story… Tell them the Mudblood is your fiancé who has run off. She'll loose her credibility, whatever story she's told them, and you can pluck her up and bring her back."

His servant seemed most repulsed at the idea of the Mudblood being his romantic interest, but when Voldemort cocked his head to the side, invisible eyebrows up, daring him to defy him, Lucius said nothing. Instead, he nodded his head again, compliant as ever, and began to rummage through the Muggle's clothing to see if there was anything he might be able to wear. They were roughly the same size, and the pair had chosen this particular Muggle couple – a pair of men – because of their similarity in clothing size. Yes, they could have altered things magically, but it was such an annoying hassle.

He watched Lucius move about the room, and he was pleased to have him here over the others. Sure, Bellatrix would have been more entertaining, but certainly more difficult to wrangle in. She would have been a little girl in a candy store, so many Muggles to choose from, a little Mudblood to call her own. Lucius was subservient, but he was also broken. This past year had been the end of any resistance. He was but a shell of a man, a small piece of what he once was. Oh, how the mighty fall. He enjoyed watching the Malfoy family tatter to ruin. They had, after all, failed him spectacularly over the years. He couldn't have thought of a better punishment.

"The governor is telling our girl that the ceremony is at the fort, near the water," Voldemort said suddenly, easily slipping into the girl's mind. She had no walls up. She was devilishly intelligent, this Mudblood, but she had no protective armour to keep him from her mind. "Get dressed… Don't forget the socks."

Elizabeth was right. The ceremony seemed quite boring. The only thing Hermione actually enjoyed was watching Norrington go up in rank. Elizabeth seemed too preoccupied with the corset, which was actually the most horrible thing Hermione had ever worn, but she managed to keep her eye on James Norrington long enough to watch him accept his honour stoically. It was followed by applause and some gunfire off the top of the fort in which the ceremony was held, Rupert's Fort, apparently. Once that was over with, Hermione couldn't wait to get in the shade. While she was pleased to have her hair off her neck, she could feel the sun burning her poor, pale English skin terribly, and she was sure it would be pealing by the time she arrived back at the Swann homestead. When the parade of soldiers departed, and the elegant music of a string band took over, Elizabeth and Hermione quickly dashed for the shade.

Everything was so open and lovely. Excellent stone masonry and a view of the sea… She was now living every historian and architect's dream to be in a perfectly preserved stone fort. Well, not preserved. It needed to be in existence for longer, and then abandoned for her to call it preserved. Instead, it was just a fort. A fort to watch for enemy ships, and perhaps young lovers to sneak into and enjoy the sunset. Everything here was idyllic and beautiful. She decided that should she go forward in time and survive the war, she was going to bring Harry and Ron to Jamaica to celebrate their victory. It would really be the perfect ending to all that.

So far, no one had come round prying to find out Hermione's story. Apparently she looked enough like Elizabeth to potentially pass off as a cousin, and one older woman had actually called her "Miss Swann" when she was being offered a glass of what she assumed was champagne. When a cluster of women did start to form, their eyes giving her the once over, Elizabeth was quick to step in and explain Hermione was a friend of the family visiting from England. With their curiosity satiated, Elizabeth and Hermione were no longer the centre of attention as the women chatted, which gave them a chance to sneak off relatively unnoticed. Governor Swann had vanished sometime earlier, almost immediately after their arrived, to stand with Norrington and other government official for the ceremony. Elizabeth mused that they weren't going to see him again until it was time to go, and Hermione realized just how happy the other girl was to actually have some company that did not consist of older, nosy women. If she had been in this situation, she would have felt the same way.

After refilling their glasses with some chilled water, as Elizabeth told her there was a one drink maximum for young ladies at the fort, the pair strolled along the outer rim of the main area, stopping in an archway to listen to the band and continue to enjoy the shade. They watched the string band play for some time, a serene look on Hermione's face. It was the most relaxed, though physically uncomfortable, she had felt in a long time. The dress was too thick, her corset restricted breathing, and she was quite sure any exposed flesh was ripe and red at this point. However, her mind was momentarily at ease watching the musicians work their craft.

Unfortunately, the moment was spoiled when Hermione glanced back into the fort, spotting an overly familiar face moving angrily toward her. Her eyes widened, and she fumbled about for an excuse to make a run for it. Unable to find one, she quickly dumped her full glass of water behind her, and then chuckled weakly.

"Finished already," Hermione insisted, holding up the empty glass for Elizabeth to see. "I'm going to get some more… I'll be right back!"

"Oh, I… All right."

She didn't give her companion enough time to object, and before she could say another word, Hermione darted off into the crowd in the complete opposite direction of Lucius sodding Malfoy. He was right on her tail when she looked over her shoulder, but no one seemed to bat an eye. The social elite of every century surely must recognize one of their own. She ducked around a corner and into a stairwell of the fort, only to stumble on her dress. Luckily, Hermione managed to catch herself on a black metal railing before she plummeted down the stone steps, but her fumble meant Lucius managed to find her seconds later. He grabbed hold of her arm and flung her to the other side of the wall, her back slamming painfully into the stone, and held her there with his forearm across her chest.

"Have you gone insane?" he hissed through gritted teeth, applying an unnecessary amount of pressure to her chest. "How dare you flit about this place, conversing with Muggles, ruining the laws of time travel-"

"I hadn't planned on it, but I had no choice," she argued breathlessly, her airways more constricted than ever. "What would you have done in my shoes?"

"I don't ever want to think about being in your shoes, girl," Lucius sneered. He released her, took hold of her arm again, and began to drag her down the steps. "We are getting out of here. Now. You will give the travel devices to the Dark Lord, and we will leave-"

"We can't leave," Hermione stressed as she struggled to keep up with him. "It broke!"

Lucius came to an abrupt halt, glaring at her when she stumbled into him, "What broke?"

"When we landed, the glass on the Time Turner broke," Hermione explained, panting a little. "I tried the usual spells to fix it, even the unusual ones, but nothing worked."

He ground his teeth together, "Preposterous! Give it to me. We'll have the Dark Lord fix it-"

"I've found someone who can," she said quickly. "I'm not inept at magic, Mr. Malfoy. If anyone could mend it, it would be me. I've been the only one in the past ten years that has actually used it… I think it will require a Muggle remedy."

"Pretentious Mudblood cow," he hissed, something that she assumed was meant to be under his breath, but then she remembered who she was dealing with. Her cheeks inflamed at the insult, but she managed to maintain her composure.

"I've found someone who says he can try to fix it," she forced, her chest heaving now at the effort it took to argue with him. His eyes flickered down for only a moment, something she decided to pass off as an involuntary glance and she rolled her eyes. "He works with a blacksmith… I think they made glasswork back… now."

He pursed his lips, his hands on his hips in his ridiculous Muggle outfit, and paced back and forth for a moment, seemingly in thought, "We… If we can get it fixed before we return to the Dark Lord, it shouldn't be a problem."

"We?" Hermione scoffed, arching an eyebrow, "We aren't doing anything. They've already seen me, but only a handful would have noticed you. Don't you think it's better if we keep it that way?"

Lucius stared down his nose at her, and for a moment it looked as though he was about to hit her. However, he released something that was a strange mix between a groan and a growl and then turned away from her, in thought again. If she wasn't wearing this bloody corset, she might have been able to make a run for it and lose him in the narrow, winding streets that she had stumbled through last night. However, she knew that ten paces and she'd be done, close to passing out from the weight of the dress, the heat of the sun, and the tightness of her corset.

"As much as I hate to agree with you," he ground out finally, "I think you're right."

There. He wasn't an entirely unreasonable man. For as long as Hermione had known him, or known of him through Draco, she had hated the man in front of her. However, as he hadn't assaulted her yet, or simply grabbed her by the hair and hauled her back to wherever he and Voldemort were hiding out, she figured that she might be able to work with him. His master was another story; no one worked with him, just for him, and Hermione wasn't about to delude herself into thinking otherwise.

"Give me until tomorrow to get this fixed," Hermione pleaded, her voice some odd mixture of breathlessness and intensity. "I don't know how long it takes to make glass or… fix an hourglass, but I think we should have it by tomorrow."

"If you don't, you know there will be Hell to pay," Lucius told her, a blond eyebrow arched. "He'll get impatient with you-"

"You don't need to tell me about him," she said quickly. "Just let me handle this."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

So I realize I said that our favourite pirate would be in this chapter. However, as it got longer and longer, I just wanted to post it. Therefore, our favourite and infamous Jack Sparrow will make his first appearance in the following chapter. Which I am really excited for! Hope you are too!

After reading it over, I also feel like the characters are mildly OOC. Not terribly yet, but I think they flit in and out. Be patient, I'm still trying to find my footing with all of this in a different fanfic world.

You guys were great at voting for this in my weekly poll! Keep it up, and it'll turn into a weekly feature for my updates! Much love to everyone!