Author's Note: I continue to be amazed, honoured and humbled by the response to this story. I am thrilled at the response to the last chapter, and I'm happy so many of you are intrigued by the time travel elements, as well as the story of Helena and Waldo we're establishing here :) You guys really are the best readers!
Here's a fun tidbit, since there have been a few mentions about Waldo Baron's name. Waldo was NOT chosen arbitrarily to be the Bloody Baron's first name; it is the closest potential consideration to being his canon name. In the Welsh translation of the books, he was called the Barwn Waldo Waedlyd or Bloody Baron Waldo - however, the inclusion of 'Waldo' in the translation may have simply been a way to keep the alliteration of his name and for that reason, it may not be canon at all. Regardless, it felt like a fun choice.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Helena asked, staring blankly at Hermione, who was poking distractedly at a bowl of oats at breakfast the next morning.
"What?" Hermione asked, blinking. "Oh, yes I'm fine."
"You do not seem fine," the girl said, caution flashing in her stare. "Did something happen?"
"Nope," Hermione announced, smacking on her empty spoon. "Everything is great."
"I see," Helena said, her eyes lighting up. "I understand. You and Draco seemed very close at the ball last week. Is this something to do with him?"
"What?" Hermione asked, glancing up. "Oh, nothing to do with Draco. Malfoy, rather."
"I find it odd that you refer to him by his surname, even though you are friends."
Hermione shrugged, eating a spoonful of her oats. "We just always have. We haven't always been friends."
"Well, you are now, so you really ought to call him Draco. It is a good name," Helena said, a thoughtful tilt to her head.
"What about you and Pollux?" Hermione asked, attempting to distract the other girl. "You seemed to have fun together at the ball. Is he going to court you?"
"I do not desire to be courted by Pollux," Helena mused. "He and I have been friends for seven years. And you may note, I call him by his given name." The smirk on Helena's face could have rivaled Malfoy's. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Then who do you desire to be courted by?" Hermione asked, realizing how easily Helena's words had slipped into her own vocabulary.
"There is no one I desire that I may have," Helena said; there was a cryptic tone to her words that caught Hermione's interest. Helena's eyes drifted across the hall, to perhaps the Gryffindor or Hufflepuff table, Hermione couldn't tell.
"You don't know that," she assured her, finishing her breakfast. "Perhaps whoever it is thinks the same of you and is afraid they'll be rejected."
"That is not the case," Helena said with a demure smile. "Although I appreciate your efforts, Hermione."
"I forgot something in the dorm," Hermione said with distraction, rising as she tucked an orange into her bag. "See you later!"
As she turned to leave the hall, attempting to keep too much spring from her step, Hermione thought she saw Helena shaking her head in baffled consternation.
The next time Hermione saw Malfoy was in the Room of Requirement that evening. Notwithstanding how she had awkwardly averted her gaze from his in the Great Hall during meals, feeling a horrendous flush rise to her cheeks all the while.
She hadn't yet wrapped her head around what had occurred the night before at the base of Ravenclaw Tower, and the last thing she needed was for Helena's observant gaze to pick up anything else between them.
But he was waiting for her, just inside the door, a hint of a delectably wicked smile playing about his lips. Hermione nearly jumped in surprise but a smile slipped unbidden to her features as well when she saw him.
"Hi," he murmured, his grey eyes searching out hers.
"Hello," Hermione breathed, entranced by his soulful gaze.
Malfoy reached a hand around her waist, drawing her towards him, his hand lingering on the small of her back. "You were ignoring me today." He tilted his head. "How come?"
Hermione blinked, taken aback. She didn't want to admit that she half expected him to come to his senses and want nothing more to do with her. Or worse – that he would regret kissing her. She settled on a version of the truth.
"I didn't know how to look at you, after last night," she said, feeling that flush creep to her cheeks once more.
"In a good way, I hope," he teased. He seemed to be in a better mood than usual.
"Yes, in a good way," Hermione admitted, chewing her lower lip.
"Good," he breathed. He gazed at her mouth and with a swipe of his other thumb, freed the lip from her teeth. Hermione felt her heart escalate. Then his hand traced along her jaw, sliding into her hair and he ducked in, his lips meeting hers.
While the newly familiar spark of energy from the contact was the same, the kiss itself couldn't have been more different from the one they had shared the night before. While that one had been heated and intense, with an edge of desperation, this one was slow, languid, almost lazy.
His tongue grazed hers, teasing, and Hermione grasped his collar, her core clenching in approval. She suppressed a groan at the feel of his body pressed against hers as he kissed her.
Malfoy maneuvered her to the wall, his hand on her back moving to graze her hip as he pressed himself against her, still kissing her with a torturous and tantalizing patience. He loosed a low growl as Hermione moved closer still, her hands sliding through his fine, pale blond locks.
He ground his hips against hers and Hermione, feeling the evidence of his arousal, couldn't stop the whimper that slipped from her throat as she basked in the glorious friction.
He kissed her harder, escalating the pace which she returned in equal measure. One of his hands grazed the side of her breast, while the other fidgeted idly with the waistband of her skirt. Hermione shuddered in the all-encompassing awareness of him as she kissed him with a passion and a fire she hadn't altogether known she'd possessed.
He drew back with a stinging bite to her lower lip, which he soothed with another soft kiss, his grey eyes darkened with lust opening to meet hers as their breaths mingled between them.
He seemed in no rush to move away and Hermione merely stared at him, dazed from the heated contact, her hands sliding down his chest. Finally she blinked, clearing her throat.
"What is this?" she asked, barely more than a whisper.
"What do you want it to be?" he returned, tugging her earlobe between his teeth.
"I don't know," she breathed. Her hands stayed fisted in his shirt. "Do you?"
He took a deep breath. "I like you. I want it to be something, if you do."
"I think…" she said, trailing off. "I like you too. I would like that. Never in a million years would I have thought to hear myself say that." She laughed and he graced her with an authentic grin.
"I know what you mean," he said, planting one last kiss to her lips. "Hermione." He drawled her name out, lengthening the syllables as if testing them out and a shiver crept down her spine at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. He entwined their fingers. "Now, quit wasting time, I've got to show you something."
"I'm wasting time," she pronounced but grinned and allowed herself to be pulled toward the table and took her usual seat.
"Yes you are," he said with a smirk but turned his notes toward her. "So, you are obviously aware that we've been looking into all manner of natural phenomena with regards to a theme behind this code." Hermione nodded but didn't interrupt. "Astronomy, astrology, numerology…"
He lifted his quill, pointing to the pages upon pages of notes they'd made.
"Never did we look into the four basic alchemical elements," he continued, "fire, earth, water and –"
"Air," Hermione breathed, cutting him off.
"Air," Malfoy agreed with a nod. "Air was believed by some to be representative of intelligence and the soul. Ravenclaw's house mascot is an eagle. It made the most sense."
"You found this all today?" Hermione asked, incredulous. Just the night before they'd had nothing.
"Couldn't sleep last night after a certain encounter," he said with a shrug, his lips twitching. "Anyway, according to both geometry and numerology, the element of air is associated with the octahedron – and by extension, the number eight."
Hermione's lips parted as she stared at him, feeling her heart begin to race in response to his scholarly initiative. Malfoy paused at her expression and then smirked.
"So," he carried on, clearing his throat, "just for fun I wrote out every eighth rune in the code." He turned a sheet of parchment to himself and wrote out a phrase before rotating it to her.
Dimensions of the Temporal Space and Misplaced Persons
"What?" she exclaimed in surprise, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. "Please tell me you aren't kidding."
"I haven't translated the rest yet," he said, "but no, that what it says. Take a look yourself, if you like." He handed her their list of translations for each rune.
Though she didn't doubt him, Hermione scanned the runes all the same, hardly able to believe he had actually figured out the code.
"So what are the other seven-eighths of the runes? Nonsense or relevant?" she queried.
"I don't know yet," he admitted, "that's as far as I've gone with it as of now."
"Impressive deductions, Mr Malfoy," came a third voice near the door. They both froze, eyes wide. Rowena Ravenclaw walked forward, looming over them with her jaw clenched. "You two will kindly explain yourselves. With the truth, this time."
Hermione glanced at Malfoy and he stared back blankly. Ravenclaw waved a hand and a third chair appeared at the table beside Malfoy's. The woman gave Hermione a pointed look and she walked over to sit beside him as Ravenclaw took the vacated seat.
"Did you think I would not ward this room or my notes? We will start with who you are," Ravenclaw said sternly, looking between them.
"We are exactly who we said we are," Malfoy deadpanned as he stared at the professor. Beneath the table he entwined his fingers with Hermione's.
"Then from where?" Rowena asked, her Scottish accent thick with annoyance. "I presume you did not come from Castelobruxo."
"We came from Hogwarts," Hermione said softly, with a nervous glance at Malfoy. He nodded, eyebrows raised and lips pursed. "Only, in the year 1999."
Ravenclaw gasped, staring between the two of them in astonishment. "Surely not…" she said.
"It's true," Malfoy clipped. "Whatever you're aiming to achieve with these notes," he gestured to the stack of parchment, "you'll accomplish it."
"A thousand years," Ravenclaw breathed, shaking her head. "Your mannerisms, your speech, your style of dress when you arrived…"
"Makes sense now?" Malfoy asked with a smirk.
"We have been trying to find a way to return home," Hermione explained. "This room… in our time, it serves many purposes. It has become somewhat commonly used; we didn't mean to intrude." She opted not to mention that it had been burnt down the previous year by Fiendfyre. And that they both had nearly perished in the blaze.
"Why have you brought us here?" Malfoy asked, an edge to his tone. Ravenclaw met his gaze evenly.
"I cannot say, at this time," she admitted. "You have known all this time, that I was responsible?"
"Yes," Malfoy responded. "We didn't know what we could expect by asking you about it."
"You would have found," Ravenclaw said, "if you had further translated those runes, that I have yet to construct whatever it was that brought you here. It is, as of yet, theoretical."
"A portal," Hermione supplied, even as she felt her heart sink. "Through a door hidden in a passageway off the courtyard."
Ravenclaw nodded. She looked between them again, distraught. "A thousand years. What else has changed?"
"With regards to Hogwarts, remarkably little," Hermione said, with a glance at Malfoy. He smirked and she understood; Ravenclaw was a curious spirit just as much as either one of them. "Although we no longer celebrate the changing of the seasons, many of the classes we take are the same; even the Three Broomsticks still stands."
Ravenclaw looked taken aback. "You do not celebrate the Harvest Feast or the Solstice Ball? Then how do you express your gratitude for the magic of the seasons?"
"We don't," Malfoy said, meeting her gaze somberly. "My line does exist, currently, though in France. I am familiar with the old tales and traditions. In our time, magic is in disarray. As it stands, Granger and I are actually considered eighth year students because in our time, a war just ended."
"A war!" Ravenclaw exclaimed. "How terrible! To what end?"
Malfoy glanced at Hermione and swallowed. She saw him look to his forearm. "A dark wizard, by the name of Voldemort, attempted to establish a reign of power through pureblood supremacy. His intention was to eliminate Muggle-borns and terrorize Muggles."
"That is why you lied about your blood status," Ravenclaw said, turning to Hermione. The brunette nodded.
"I did not know how Muggle-born status would be considered here."
"This Voldemort… he has been defeated, then?" Ravenclaw asked, her eyes eager for knowledge.
"Yes," Hermione responded, "a year ago; we have been rebuilding. Or we were, anyway. We have no idea if time has carried on without us while we've been here."
"You arrived here on September first?" Ravenclaw asked.
"Yes," Malfoy supplied, "but we left from our time on January fifteenth."
"It is nearly January already," the woman said, paling significantly. "I am sorry indeed to say that whatever motivation possessed me to bring you here, has not yet been clarified. Perhaps you could tell me everything you know about this portal."
"Would you consider also filling us in on your research?" Hermione asked. "We might be able to help."
"You are both very smart," Ravenclaw said with an appraising nod. "Are all students a thousand years from now as such?"
"No," Malfoy snorted. "You just so happened to bring back the top student of our year. Century, even." He looked at Hermione with a nudge to her shoulder. Hermione rolled her eyes but looked at him, fighting a smile.
"And the second smartest," she added.
"I see," Ravenclaw said, her lips twitching with a smile. "You two are courting, in some way. I had wondered."
"Actually," Malfoy said, looking at Ravenclaw. "We were enemies for almost eight years. Until we arrived here. My family…" he hesitated, looking uncomfortable, "they fought on the wrong side of the war."
Rowena's eyes widened slightly in surprise but then she relaxed, her head tilting. "It is never too late to choose a new path to improve one's circumstances. Our past need not define us."
"Right," he murmured, his hand sliding down to grip Hermione's thigh.
Rowena looked at their many stacks of notes and research. With a wave of her wand, a translated copy of the runes set itself in front of them. Hermione nearly groaned at the thought of the weeks and months of effort they'd put into their research. Malfoy's jaw clenched.
"You could have come to me from the first," Ravenclaw said sharply.
"Would you have believed us?" Malfoy asked, skeptical. "Without seeing the evidence for yourself that we aren't like the students of your time?"
"I should like to think so," Rowena said thoughtfully. "Although if I had not, I would like to think an intelligent Ravenclaw and Slytherin such as yourselves might have been able to convince me."
"Granger's actually a Gryffindor," Malfoy teased with a grin.
"Are you really?" Ravenclaw asked, a sharp glint in her eyes. "But yet you are such an embodiment of the values of Ravenclaw house. Godric should like to hear that."
"Do the other founders suspect the truth?" Hermione asked.
"Salazar is curious of you," Ravenclaw permitted. "If you prefer to keep this between us, that is fine. Though tell me, how do we sort? Once the four of us are no longer around? We have discussed many ideas, none of which have been accepted by all of us."
"You charm Gryffindor's hat," Malfoy said flatly. "It's called the Sorting Hat and it reads our minds and our character."
"How brilliant," Rowena said and Hermione's eyes widened at the implication. "Does Helena know?"
"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. Her stomach twisted at the thought of telling Ravenclaw about Helena's end. Malfoy subtly shook his head.
"She has grown fond of you as a friend," Rowena stated, "and she will miss you when you return home."
"I will miss her as well," Hermione said with a frown. The thought that Helena would pass away young and linger on for a thousand years as a ghost bothered Hermione more, the closer she and Helena became. Especially since there was nothing she could do about it.
Rowena looked around the room and then back to the two of them.
"It is late," she began. "We shall meet tomorrow and you may tell me more about this portal. You may continue to use this room to your own purposes, if you so choose, though I would ask that you not reveal its existence to others just yet."
They both nodded. Ravenclaw stood, and with a demure smile, left the room.
Malfoy turned to her, his eyebrows raised. "That was exhausting."
"Yes," Hermione mused, "though I guess I suspected it would be worse."
"Right," he agreed. He glared at the translated copy of the research. "I can't believe all of our work was negated so quickly."
"Take solace in the fact that you did, in fact, crack Ravenclaw's code," Hermione teased, nudging him in the ribs.
"That's true," he conceded. He leaned back in his seat, stretching, and dropped an arm over her shoulders. "Besides, now we have less research to do. We know that Ravenclaw will figure it out… eventually."
"Eventually," Hermione echoed. "Sort of a load off, actually, isn't it?"
"It is," he permitted. "Come on."
The large, worn-looking couch appeared in front of the fire. Before Hermione could walk over, Malfoy hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her to it, dropping her into the soft cushions.
Despite her surprise, Hermione laughed, shifting over as he tucked himself in beside her. Malfoy slipped an arm beneath her neck and she dropped her face to his chest, entangling her legs with his and it felt as natural as anything. The thought unnerved her slightly as his gaze met hers. She idly traced a pattern on his chest; the rune for 'misplaced'.
"I'm not used to this side of you," Hermione said quietly.
"No one is," he said, equal in tone as he stared at her. "I've never felt so unrestricted as I have here. So… free of expectations. Do you know what I mean?"
"Entirely," she responded. "Maybe, despite anything else, this was what we needed, too."
"Maybe you're right," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. They fell into a comfortable silence until he yawned widely. "I could fall asleep like this."
"So could I," Hermione admitted, voice quiet with sleep. "But I would never hear the end of it from Helena."
Malfoy snickered. "It's going to be weird, isn't it? Seeing them as ghosts again."
"I don't look forward to that part of returning home," Hermione said, frowning. "The more I get to know her, the more I really care for Helena. Being friends with girls has never before come easily to me and it breaks my heart to know things will end poorly for her."
"I know," he said, running his fingers through her hair. "I feel the same way about Waldo. Although he and I aren't as close. I think I see too much of myself in him, if that makes sense. Myself before."
"I see it, too," Hermione breathed.
"I think you were right not to mention it to Ravenclaw," he said, "even though we can't affect the future, it doesn't feel right to taunt a beast all the same. And besides, would you want to know something like that ahead of time if it was your daughter? It could create some adverse effects regardless."
"It doesn't make me feel any better," she said quietly.
"I don't expect it to," he replied, his words light. "It simply shows the strength of your heart."
Hermione didn't respond but shifted herself on his chest, making herself more comfortable as her eyelids fluttered shut. She felt a deep-seated melancholy sinking into her chest at the thoughts of her friend.
"We should go before we do fall asleep here," Malfoy said, even as he wrapped his other arm around her. Hermione hummed contentedly, sinking into his warmth. He carried on, "though I suppose if we do stay here, we can indulge in some scintillating morning sex."
Hermione's eyes flew open and she looked up at him. He merely smirked in return.
"You're right, we should go," Hermione said, extracting herself from his embrace and shivering at the sudden lack of heat.
"I was only joking," he said softly as he followed suit. He met her gaze, his expression suddenly serious. "That isn't something we need to think about until you're ready."
"Well, you said the second time would be better," she muttered, unable to hold his stare. The conversation they'd had on the subject previously had felt so hypothetical compared to this.
"I did," he said with a flicker of his brows. "And I would make it good for you, I promise. But like I said, not until you want to."
She wanted to ask how experienced he was but she was certain she didn't actually want the answer to that question. She didn't want to seem completely inadequate compared to the other girls he had presumably slept with.
"Hey," he murmured and Hermione glanced at him, her jaw clenched. He must have read the worry on her face. "I shouldn't have brought it up."
"It's fine," Hermione said, attempting flippancy. "I'm not opposed to it. We'll just give it some time, if that's alright."
"Of course it's alright," he said softly. He swiped a thumb across her cheekbone. "And in case you were wondering, you're the only one I've actually wanted a relationship with."
"That's good," she breathed.
"Note to self:" he murmured, slinging an arm around her shoulders as they left the Room of Requirement, "don't make jokes about sex." But he was grinning, his eyes bright and Hermione smiled, grateful for the break in tension.
"I don't doubt it'll be good, for the record," Hermione said, feeling some of the uncharacteristic shyness that had taken her dissipate.
"You have no idea," he growled, with a nip to her earlobe, "yet." Hermione shivered as the sensation and his words shot down her spine.
Malfoy turned to her when they arrived at Ravenclaw Tower, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Hermione reached her own around his back, and again it felt more natural than she ever would have imagined when she moved closer.
"Goodnight, Granger," he said, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Sleep well."
"I will," she whispered when he pulled away. "Good night."
With a half smile, he turned and walked away. Hermione floated up the staircase to Ravenclaw Tower, absently answered the riddle and made her way to her dorm.
"How's Draco?" Helena asked flippantly without looking up from where she was organizing several quills. Hermione only bit her lower lip and returned with a lazy smile. Helena looked up, her brow furrowing in surprise at Hermione's expression. "Oh, wow, Hermione." Hermione nodded, the smile growing. Helena gave Hermione a hug, whispering, "I am so happy for you."
And as Hermione grasped her friend, blinking back the sudden and mournful tears, she felt bittersweet.
