Recap:

He slammed the door behind her before he could change his mind.

God I love her!


Chapter 9: Home?

Hermione took Draco's rejection to heart, working on the Time-Turner with fevered passion. She worked well into the night, the time when they would have walked together. She just couldn't believe it. How had she ever believed he could change? Sure, he was on their side, there was no denying that, but his personality would always be the same. Cold, hard, incorrigible.

They hadn't spoken in over a week, and he kept his word in not seeing her either when it was possible. He wouldn't even look at her, sending another spike through her heart. And to think, she actually thought they could be friends. She was even starting to enjoy his company, to find a place for him in her life.

"Bastard," she muttered angrily under her breath, her hands working as if absent from her mind. She'd taken apart the Time-Turner and was in the process of putting it back together, which took much more than tools; a hell of a lot of concentration and magic.

And then, happening so quickly she nearly missed it, it was finished. She had successfully put it back together, though with one small, almost invisible change. The "Turner" was put in backwards, allowing them to go forward in time.

"I don't believe it," she whispered, lifting the gleaming object in the air, the mid-day sun catching it perfectly. She ran from the room to find an empty house. "Shit," she swore, remembering that everyone had gone to an early dinner at a restaurant downtown to celebrate Maddock's birthday. Hermione had apologized vehemently, but insisted that she needed to finish their project. Draco had been in the room at the time, and she'd caught his eyes; he knew the reason for her extra hard work, and he'd bowed his head. "Draco," she said to herself. That's right; he had refused to go out as well, which meant he was in the house.

She ran to his room, forgetting for a moment why she'd ever been mad at him. Without knocking, she burst into his room, only to find that he wasn't there.

"Wh—"

"What are you doing, Granger?"

She spun on her heel, the enlarged Time-Turner clasped to her chest.

"Shit, Draco. You scared me."

"I'm sorry." He rolled his eyes and pushed past her to get into his room. "Next time I'll tell you when I go get a sandwich."

"I finished it," she said, sick of waiting.

"Finished—" But he stopped dead, realizing what she meant. "Oh," he sighed. "That's great. Now leave."

"No," she said firmly, walking further into the room. "I'm not going to let you push me away any more." She set the Time-Turner carefully on his nightstand, then advanced on him. And before he could protest her arms were around him in a warm hug. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. "I'm sorry, but I want to be your friend, Draco, and I won't let you go."

Slowly, uneasily, he lifted his arms to hug her in return. He suppressed a moan of pleasure at the perfect feel of her.

"Very well," he finally said after a long while, still holding onto her. "You win, Hermione."

He felt her smile into his neck. His knees almost gave way.

"Great." She leaned back, beaming up at him. "I'll get started on our friendship bracelets."

"Wh—"

"I'm kidding," she laughed, then kissed his cheek the way she had before. Only this time, when she stepped back, her face was unreadable. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't do that."

"It's fine." And it really was; he wanted her to kiss him, no matter how little it was.

"No, it's not. I won't lead you on, Draco. I really like you, but as a friend."

He pulled her back to him and kissed her forehead. She sighed wonderfully into his chest.

God he smells good, she thought, tightening her hold. Who would have thought she'd ever be willingly hugging Draco Malfoy?

"Come on." She took his hand, and with the other grabbed the Time-Turner. "I can't wait for them to get back. I have to tell them it's done."


It was two days later, after many tears and an enormous feast, that they were scheduled to leave. Celeste clung to Snape's side as if he were her life-force, not letting go until it was absolutely necessary: when the five of them were encircled in the Time-Turner's chain, ready to leave.

They expressed their thanks for the Bostwick's hospitality; Hermione cried into Maddock's arms, thanking him with zeal.

And soon, all too soon it seemed, they were ready and there was nothing else to wait for. Celeste threw herself into Snape's arms and for the first time the younger companions witnessed them kiss; they turned away immediately. He whispered something into her ear, which no one heard, then stepped back into the circle, a white lace handkerchief in his hand, the initials C. B. stitched on it.

"Good-bye Severus," she whispered, biting her lip.

Hermione, with watery eyes, set the Time-Turner on the ground, after having turned it the appropriate number of times. The air began to swirl, leaves and pine needles kicked up. There was a soft clinking noise and then silence.

Snape was the first to step out of the chain circle, and he surveyed the area with his sweeping gaze. It was very obvious that they were several minutes either behind or ahead, for no other people were in their vicinity. Everyone was rigid, bracing themselves for the impending attack.

Minutes passed. First five, then ten, then a half an hour. It soon became apparent that they were perhaps much farther off.

"What the hell did you do, Granger?" Snape hissed, advancing on her. Both Ron and Draco jumped between them, giving each other nasty looks, as if to say they alone had the right to defend her.

"I calculated it perfectly!" she stammered angrily. "I know I did! I checked it a hundred times! And so did you!" She pointed a shaky finger at Snape, nearly jabbing his chest. "All of us did! So it's not my fault!"

"Insolent child!" he bit back, then retreated deeper into the forest. Hermione and the others shot after him, keeping their distance. There was no way they would let him out of their sight.


It was hours before they finally came into contact with another human being, having broke from the forest. They were in a familiar area, but something just didn't feel right about it.

"Oh I must be going mad!" cried a middle-aged man with ash blond hair, his hands champed tight on his head. He had a wand sticking out of his mane of matted hair. "My eyes deceive me! I see Harry Potter!" He ran around the group of five, then stopped, cried out hoarsely, and bolted off into the woods, his moans echoing off the trees.

"What the hell was that about?" Harry grunted, sneering back at the insane man.

"I thought the great Harry Potter was well accustomed to his fame," Snape spat.

Everyone chose to ignore this slander, and continued on.

"Hey!" Ron suddenly shouted, a little too excitedly. "This is near my house!"

"House?" Draco guffawed under his breath. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Brilliant," she said, sidling up next to him, her arm hooking with his. Draco frowned and fell back in step; she had certainly put him in his place.

It didn't take long for them to reach the Burrow, its lopsidedness an instant comfort to Harry.

Ginny, he thought, his heart puffing two sizes. He'd forced himself to not think of her for some time, the pain too much to swallow. Now he found himself practically running towards the house, his legs carrying him effortlessly.

"Ginny!" he called, pounding on the front door. It creaked open, and in the place of the handle was a gaping hole. "What the—"

Ron and Hermione were soon behind him, while Snape and Draco kept their distance. Ron clasped Hermione's hand tightly, an ugly feeling creeping over him, over them all. Something was wrong; the house was too quiet.

"Ginny!" they heard Harry cry out from far off in the house, upstairs. They ran after him, their voices caught in their throats when they found him. "Ginny," he was pleading, but the skeletal redhead only lay limp in his arms, her brown eyes flittering every now and then, the only sign that she was still alive.

"What happened!" Ron demanded, falling to her side. "Ginny! Wake up!"

Suddenly her eyes opened and she stared up into Harry's face. For a moment nothing happened and then, causing everyone to gasp, she jumped back and crammed herself into the nearest corner, her eyes wild with fear.

"Get away!" she hissed hoarsely, holding a splinter of wood as if it were her wand. "I'll hex you! Get away! Go!"

"Gin—"

"GO!"

The trio retreated into the hall—Harry being pulled by the others—and closed the door softly behind them.

"What the hell is going on?" Ron asked, glaring at his best friend. "What—"

"I found her like that, Ron," he sighed, biting his lip to keep from spilling tears. He reached for the door handle, boldly stepping back into the room. Hermione went to grab his shoulder, but Ron stopped her.

"He'll fix it," he said, sighing. This couldn't be real; they'd only been gone a few months (not including the time spent in the 1800's, which was all practically erased). If something serious had happened the Order would have found a way to notify them.

"Ginny," Harry whispered, and kneeled before her. "Ginny, what happened?" He touched her arm ever-so softly. Her doe eyes flicked up to him and smiled.

"Oh Harry," she beamed, her teeth a shocking white compared to the dinginess of her face and clothes. "How are you?"

"Ginny, where is everyone?"

"Everyone?" Her smile faded and she burst into tears. "Leave me alone! Whoever you are!" she snapped again, punching out at him. "Go! Leave! They're gone! So go!"

"Gone? Gone where?"

But her energy was spent. She curled into a ball, hugging her knees.

"Dead," she whispered, rocking just a little. "All dead…Dead…All dead…Dead…"

Harry sulked back into the hall with his friends, his cheeks stained with salty tears. No one said a word, no one pointed out the obvious. Ginny had been attacked; her mind was scrambled so that she couldn't tell anything apart. She was mad. And everyone else…they were dead.

"Did she tell you anything?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded slowly, not wanting to say what.

"What happened then?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "She didn't say…She…She's lost her mind!" He collapsed into Hermione's arms, sobbing like an infant. Ginny, the love of his life, was little more than a vegetable now. Her brain was fried. She was a shell of a human being. And the worst part was he had no idea how it happened.

"Where's the rest of my family?" Ron asked, tugging at Harry's sleeve, his eyes rimmed with tears as well. This was a blow to them all. Ron's sister. Harry's love. Hermione's friend.

But the answer wouldn't come from Harry, as Ginny burst from the room and lunged herself at Ron, knocking him to the ground. She weighed nothing, sitting on his stomach, her feet pressed into his armpits, her mouth stretched into a horrid and dirty grin.

"Dead," she chirped, digging into his arms. "All dead." And it was like she was singing, a melody in her voice. "Dead, all dead." She was clutching the useless piece of wood in her wand hand, twirling it in the air in rhythm with her song. "Dead, all dead…Dead, all dead…"

"SHUT UP!" Harry screamed, and toppled her off of Ron, hugging her so tightly that she cried out, beating against his hold. "Shut up," he cried, soaking the back of her grimy shirt with his tears. "Just be quiet, Ginny."

Ron lay still on the floor where Ginny had held him, his eyes wide with disbelief. Hermione kneeled at his side, one hand resting on his chest.

She had no words; none of them did.


That night, after many tears and a cacophony of heated words, they decided to stay the night at the Burrow. Ginny was safely put under a powerful sleeping spell, and wouldn't wake for at least a few days.

By two o'clock in the morning they were no nearer to figuring out what happened.

"This is impossible!" Harry stammered, slamming his fist on the kitchen table. The mugs of lukewarm tea shivered, then settled. "It doesn't make any sense. How could something like this happen without us knowing?"

"I've told you at least a hundred times, Potter," Snape said, annoyed. "Little Miss Bookworm made a mistake in her calculations. We're at least several months ahead of where we should be."

"That's the impossibility!" Hermione hissed. "My calculations were flawless! Something else must have happened if what you say is true."

"That still doesn't explain what happened," Draco pointed out, glowering at all of them. He was absolutely miserable. He loathed Snape and Ron and Harry, and Hermione was so focused on them that she hardly gave him a glance. He knew he was being selfish, or that she would say so, but he couldn't help his feelings. He wanted some of her attention. After all, they were all in the same bind: they didn't know what was going on!

"Yes is does, boy!" Snape narrowed his eyes at his former prized student. Where had things gone wrong? "The Weasleys were attacked in the time between what we know as the present and now, the future. Ginevra must have escaped or been thought dead, and left."

"My family is not dead!" Ron yelled, pitching his mug at Snape, who froze it midair and sent it sailing to the other side of the room, where it crashed into the wall and the pieces scattered on the floor.

"Not a smart, move, Weasley. I am far more skilled than you."

"Fuck you, Snape! Go run back to Voldemort like the lapdog you are! We don't need you!"

"Gladly!" he shot back. "If not for Draco, I would have ditched you deviants long ago."

The remainder of the night went on like this, until about five in the morning, when everyone was so tired they were forced to succumb to sleep. Harry, Ron, and Hermione took the closest room to the unconscious Ginny. Snape found a room as far from them as possible, while Draco housed right next to them. He couldn't help it; he needed to be close to her, especially now, when she needed someone.

When he was sure everyone was asleep, he crept into their room, waking Hermione with his hand over her mouth. But she was already wide-awake, and followed him down into the kitchen.

"What, Draco?" she yawned, her eyes red and puffy from the day's excursion and trauma. She desperately needed sleep, but, to Draco, this was more important right now.

"I think Snape might be right," he said boldly, then braced himself for an onslaught.

But none came.

"Well," she sighed, "it's the only thing that has made sense so far. If not for the fact that I was precise."

"I'm not saying you weren't."

"I'm not saying you doubted me."

Silence.

"Why did you really bring me down here?" her voice low and sad. She didn't want to be there, in that kitchen, where she'd had so many good times in the past. Times that had ended, seemingly indefinitely.

"Potter and Weasley are too involved in their own emotions—"

"Don't even start!" she snapped, clenching her fists at her sides. "Our lives have been torn apart and you have the audacity to suggest that what they should be doing is comfort me! How the hell did you reach that conclusion, Draco? It's Ron's family you selfless prick! And just as good as Harry's. How dare you!"

Draco honestly didn't know what to do. And he thought he was doing a good thing.

So he did what came naturally. He fought back.

"And you don't matter?" he countered. "How does that make sense? If it were me, and not Weasley, I would make sure you were number one!"

"Well it's not you, is it!"

And that, though true, hurt worst of all.

"No matter what you do," she went on, fuming, her palms on fire as her nails dug into them." Or what you say, nothing will ever happen between us. I could never lower myself far enough to be your girlfriend. So just stop with this shit, Draco. Stop glaring at Ron, stop defending me; it's not your place! Because while you do that, your place with me is getting buried. Don't ruin our friendship because you have these grandiose ideas in your head!"

"You don't understand," he tried to reason. But immediately it was apparent that this could not happen.

"What don't I understand, Draco? I know that you like me, that you want to be with me, but you can't. What more is there?"

"Forget it," he snarled.

"No, tell me!"

"No!"

"Damn it, Draco!"

"Fine! I—" But the second the words formed they dropped to the ground and he sighed. What was he doing? Creating more stress for her? What did she care of his problems, his emotions? Especially now, when she had mountains to worry about. "Sorry," he sighed. "I'm fucking everything up."

"No, I'm sorry."

He could only gape at her.

"Sorry? For what?"

"I'm letting my feelings about other things ruin this. And I'm not respecting you."

"Stop it, ok?" he snapped. "Don't be the bigger person. You did nothing wrong."

"Fine. Just promise me something."

"What?"

"Don't piss me off anymore," she said, and for the first time since they left the 1800's, she smiled.


Ok, there are some things that I don't like about this chapter, mainly its pace. It went too fast for me, but I honestly didn't have anything else to fill in between, so I went with it and tried my best to make it work. Hopefully I did.

REVIEW and I update!