A/N: As I thought, I did end up adding a few lines here and there to this one. Close to 500 words worth in fact. :D


Potter Lives Again. Goody.:

1998…

Sighing at the injustice of everything that had happened to her, her friends, and the world at large over the last few years, Hermione returned to the tasks at hand. Too much to do to let pity take over just yet.

She started with a 'scourgify' on herself, instantly feeling cleaner and less tainted from Greyback's loathsome touch. (But she was still going to take an hour long, extra scalding shower when the opportunity presented itself.) She thought about doing a quick change into a fresh set of clothes, but decided against it until she could have the privacy of a lavatory or empty classroom, not wanting to entice the boys needlessly. Neville was a gentleman and would probably turn his back in embarrassment. But Draco… she could just imagine him watching her with that hungry look he'd suddenly adopted, aristocratic eyebrow raised in sardonic amusement as she fumbled underneath the robe he'd lent her to put on fresh underwear and clothes. Yeah. That's not going to happen.

Next on Hermione's To Do list was to make sense of all of the wands that had decided to attach themselves to her. This drew Draco's attention to them as she scooped the lot up from the ground.

"My wand!" Draco immediately dove for the brown and black hawthorn wand in Hermione's hand.

"Hey!" She tried to hang on to it, but he was decidedly stronger and definitely more determined.

A little jolt of welcome magic surged through him as his fingers closed around the end. Merlin, I missed you too. Mother's wand was sufficient, but it really wasn't my style.

And… I still have to tell Mother that I lost her wand. Crap. Stupid Crabbe and his fucking fiendfyre. Still can't believe he's dead.

Fuck, a lot of people have died today.

Uncle Sev… Draco also snatched the very unique African Blackwood wand that had belonged to his godfather from Hermione while she was still fuming, handling it with reverence and a bit of fear. The last time he'd touched Snape's wand, it had stung his hand. Badly. Now, it just felt lifeless, like it was mourning. Which made Draco even sadder. Out of all the people left in the world, Draco and his parents were probably the only ones alive who had actually cared for Severus Snape. You will be missed, Godfather, by myself and your wand at the very least.

He gulped back the sob that threatened to emerge. Don't you dare fucking cry, Malfoy. Not in front of Granger and Longbottom.

Forcing himself to remain unaffected by putting up a half-hearted Occlumency shield between his logical mind and his emotions, which unfortunately left him coming across as disdainfully accusatory, Draco asked, "How'd you get all these, Granger?"

Hermione frowned at him fiercely, not liking his tone, as usual. "I called them by accident when I called mine. Don't know why I got the whole lot. I even got Neville's."

Draco grimaced, wondering if he'd ever learn to temper his tone before it came out of his mouth. "Don't know about Neville's, but all of these others belonged to dead people. I guess they were lonely and liked your magic." He plucked a rather ordinary looking brown one from her hand. "This is Greyback's. I'm sure you don't want that anywhere near you." And neither do I.

Hermione had no qualms about watching Draco snap the werewolf's wand in two, before tossing the pieces as far from himself as possible. She wasn't so sure about letting Draco have his wand back, but Harry certainly wasn't going to need it anymore, and Draco had seemed almost childlike in his joy at having the magical piece of carved hawthorn back in his hand, so she decided to let him keep it. (Not that she was certain she could get it back, anyway) As for Snape's… "No, I'm glad that one's gone, but what right do you have to Professor Snape's wand?"

Draco's lower lip actually trembled as he looked down at the black wand in his hand, making Hermione look at him in surprise. There ARE real feelings under that mask of sneering indifference. Who knew?

"He was my Godfather. I'll make sure it gets buried with him."

His tone was so quiet, she almost couldn't hear him. But she certainly was surprised. "Oh." I had no idea. No wonder Snape showed Draco so much favouritism. She touched Draco's arm gently. "I'm sorry he's gone, Draco."

Draco met her warm, sympathetic firewhisky eyes, feeling his chest ache a bit more since his pathetic shield had already mostly failed. "Yeah. So am I," he admitted.

"Wait. Snape's dead?" Neville cut into the moment, sounding almost pleased about it.

"Yes," Hermione and Draco succinctly answered together, neither wanting to explain any further than that.

Hermione gave Neville a look that said 'drop it'.

The tall boy lowered his eyes meekly. "Oh."

Hermione still had two extra wands in her hand. One was Voldemort's, but it used to be Dumbledore's. She couldn't fail to recognize the knobby wand, having seen it often enough over the years. She was also ninety percent sure that it was the Elder Wand of legend. This one, she would keep for now, unsure what to do with such a powerful wand. She certainly didn't want it, but she couldn't think of anyone left alive that she could trust to take proper care of it.

She tucked it into a voluminous pocket of her borrowed robe for now.

The last wand was Ron's. Sort of.

The curved and wavy dark chestnut wood wand had belonged to Wormtail before Ron won it from him. It had listened to Ron well enough, but he'd vowed that as soon as he was able, he was buying a new one because this one had given him the heevie skeevies.

So she broke it and threw it just like Draco had thrown Greyback's earlier.

It felt incredibly satisfying. (She never did like that rat and breaking his wand was cathartic in so many ways.)

Finding a reserve of inner strength, she took a good look at the corpse of Ron for the first time; and nearly gagged all over again. He'd clearly been slimed before being dusted and it wasn't pretty. Breathing deeply through her nose to settle her stomach, she knelt down beside him and cast a very thorough 'tergio' and 'scourgify' to clean him of the last remnants of Nagini. Then she carefully folded his already stiffening arms over his chest and closed his unnervingly sightless eyes with a quiet sob of misery. Goodbye, Ron. If my mission with the Time-Turner fails, may your existence in the Afterlife be joy filled and contain a never-ending buffet, just for you. Finally, she gave him a fond kiss goodbye on his forehead, lingering for a few seconds. I'll see you again one day. Or really soon.

Please don't hate me for hoping for the latter.

She rose to her feet once more and gave the two boys who were looking at her with sympathetic eyes a grim and determined smile. "Right. Professor Snape gave me a new mission, and that's next on my To Do list. Who wants all of this to never have happened at all?"

"What?!"


Harry groaned like he was dying again when he woke up back in his body and found that he ached from head to toe like he'd been run over by the Knight Bus a dozen times over. He stared up at the blue sky with bleary eyes. Merlin, who would have thought dying and then taking a trip through Limbo with Dumbledore would be so arduous? Shouldn't this be more like being born again; all fresh and new?

I feel about a thousand years old.

Grunting with the effort, he rolled over onto his side and then pushed himself up to a sitting position with a less than sturdy arm. The Boy-Who-Lived-Again shook his head and scrubbed his face, trying to dispel the cobwebs that had taken up residence in his brain. When that was mildly successful, he squinted at the blurry world around him, seeing nothing more than green for the grass and some rather indecipherable blobs. Can someone please tell me why I'm still half blind? Someone has got to invent a healing spell that restores vision. Maybe I'll ask Hermione. She's smart enough to figure it out.

Skipping the pathetic fumbling that he used to do once upon a time, Harry held out his hand and thought, 'Accio glasses'. They flew into his hand in less than a second like an obedient puppy. He slid them on his face with practiced ease and then promptly pulled them back off again with a roll of his green eyes. Figures. As if I could die without my lenses also being fractured.

Wondering how many times he'd fixed his glasses over the years, since he'd lost count after his third year at Hogwarts, Harry pointed the finger of his wand hand at the round, black rimmed glasses and thought, 'Reparo.'

The glasses went back on his face and the first sight he was greeted with was anything but pleasant.

Not even a metre away, a bare, hairy arse was front and center. It also came with a pair of overly large, equally hairy balls displayed between the splayed thighs that had a pair of trousers hanging just above the knees. It only took him a couple of seconds to figure out that the eyeball frying image was attached to a lifeless body. He gagged. Oh god! I am never going to unsee that. Never. Harry quickly scrambled up onto his feet and took in the entire scene around him, spinning in a circle.

Dead Fenrir Greyback. Dead Voldemort. Pumpkins. Dead Snape in the doorway of Hagrid's hut. Grass. More Grass. Hermione, Malfoy, and Neville standing up the hill a bit, hovering near a reclining Ron. Harry had a terrible feeling that Ron was also dead.

The feeling was accompanied by a sense of resigned inevitability and a deep wave of sorrow. What am I going to do without you, Ron? Hermione and I are much too serious without your happy-go-lucky ways.

Now feeling even older, Harry turned his grateful gaze (because he wasn't looking at dead people anymore) downwards to the grass near him, looking for Malfoy's wand that he'd been using for the last week or so. It can't have flown too far.

Unless his glasses were failing him, he couldn't find it. Or maybe it did.


"Yeah, Granger. What the fu… hell do you mean you can make all of this unhappen?"

Hermione smiled prettily at Draco and Neville, almost impressed that Draco had made an effort not to swear. "Snape told me where to find a Time-Turner. I'm going to go back in time and fix it so Voldemort never rises to power again."

The boys stared at her, gape mouthed. "You can do that?" Draco asked incredulously.

She gave a confident flip of her hair. "Of course. I time travelled all through Third Year so I could take extra courses. I'm sure I can pull this off too, now that I know what happens when."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the girl. So that's how she was able to take more courses than me that year. Father was NOT happy that she exceeded me in both marks and courses taken. That's not fucking fair.

He was about to berate her for cheating when movement at the bottom of the hill caught his eye. What the fuck?! Is that Potter rising from the dead?

Hermione took in Draco's stunned expression and smirked. Finally silenced the git. It only took me how many years? "What's wrong, Malfoy? Jealous?"

He shook his head and pointed downhill. "Potter."

Hermione spun and gasped. "Harry!" He's standing! Harry's alive! I should have known he couldn't be killed! I should have known that Dumbledore wasn't quite so willing to sacrifice him! The Horcrux in Harry's scar must have been the thing to die, not him.

Thank bloody Merlin.

Her best friend looked up when she called, and just like that, Hermione was flying down the hill, all of her hard earned composure lost to the shock of having him back.

Draco and Neville followed, but at a much less breakneck pace.

"Hermione!" Harry called back as he saw her running at him like a black robed banshee with long chestnut hair streaming behind her. Sensing it would be necessary, he braced for impact just in time for the small female to run right into him and wrap her arms around him, sobbing. He rubbed her back soothingly, holding her just as tight.

"Oh, Harry, I thought you were dead," she managed to gasp out between ugly, gulping sobs, tears streaming unchecked into his shoulder. "And Ron's gone. And Snape's gone. And McGonagall's gone. And so many many others. And my parents don't remember me. And that THING nearly assaulted me. And…"

Harry's heart was near to breaking just listening to her. 'Shhhhh. It's okay. I'm here. I'm not leaving you. I'm here," he murmured over her babbling, holding her fragile feeling, trembling body even tighter. Merlin, when did she get so skinny?

Draco watched Hermione being comforted by Harry and wondered if he'd ever had that kind of close friendship with someone that had absolutely nothing to do with sex. It only took him a second to come up with the answer of, Nope. Never. It must be nice, though, to not have the pressure of proving yourself to someone and have unconditional love no matter what.

If it weren't for the fact that Potter has the Weaslette, I'd be very concerned that those two would become a thing in a very short period of time with the Weasel gone.

Thank Circe for the Weaslette. It means I still have a chance.

Uhhhhhhh. Since when did I want a chance with the Gryffindor Princess?

Now, apparently.

I must be losing it. Father would disown me if he found out, but I don't suppose it matters anymore, though, does it?

The 'good' side won the war, which means I might not even have an estate left to inherit once they're finished sentencing my family. And Father might not even have survived the battle. I haven't seen him for at least an hour.

Draco only felt slightly guilty about his apathy towards his less than loving sire's unknown situation. He'd much rather contemplate the likelihood of talking Granger into going out with him.

It took a lot of repetitions, but eventually Harry's words sank into Hermione's conscious and she settled down to mere hiccups. He sighed into her hair, propping his chin on top of her head. "I'm sorry I scared you too, Mione."

"That's okay," she mumbled through stuffed up nasal passages. "I'm just glad you're back."

Harry met Malfoy's eyes over Hermione's head and wondered at what thoughts were going on in his pointy, scheming, head. The blond git seemed to be thinking awfully hard. It's strange; knowing Malfoy isn't as evil as I thought. Even stranger knowing Snape was also on our side the whole time. And in love with my mother.

Ugh. I think I'll be avoiding that thought as much as possible from now on.

Do I have to be friends with Malfoy now?

Merlin, I hope not.

Maybe we can settle for non-enemies?

Ironically, Draco was thinking pretty much the same thing.

If I do manage to sweet-talk Granger into giving me a chance, and assuming I don't get sent to Azkaban, does that mean I have to be friends with Potter?

Merlin, I hope not. That would be the total end of the world, I swear. I'd have to apply for membership to the Galumphing Heroes Club and that is never going to happen. Slytherins do NOT prance about like preening ponies.

Potter will just have to be happy with me not insulting him a hundred times a week. I might even be nice and tone it down to just once or twice a week.

Hermione finally pulled herself back together, sniffing as she backed away from the comfort of Harry's arms. God, can I get any more pathetic? I must look like a puffy eyed, red nosed, bushy haired fright. Not like I'm going to a ball with the man of my dreams or anything in the next few minutes, but still… Ugh. She put a hand in the pocket of Draco's robe to pull her wand out to cast a quick decongestant spell to help with the excessive amount of mucus her crying had inspired, when she felt the second wand in the pocket.

Oh. The Elder Wand. Harry would be a good keeper for it. He won't abuse the power it contains.

She took out both wands, silently thinking the necessary words to clear her sinuses, then handed the Elder Wand to her shaggy haired and recently resurrected friend. "Here, Harry. I think you rightfully won this."

The boy gawked at the wand that he would forever associate with Dumbledore; a man who had both mentored him and thrown him to the almost literal wolves. "Uhhhhhhh. Okay?" With a slow movement, he took the wand like it was going to bite him.

It kind of did, sending a very strong jolt of power through his body that wasn't exactly pleasant but he supposed he could get used to it. If you ignore the fact that I'm pretty sure my hair is now standing on end. Not that that's that much different from my usual hairstyle. I miss my old wand, though. I wonder if I could use this super wand to fix mine? That would make my day, no question. I'll have to try it later when there are no Malfoys around to laugh at me if I fail.

Hermione smiled brilliantly at Harry, pleased to see that the Elder Wand hadn't done anything too dramatic to Harry when he first touched it. Funnily enough, it hadn't even made a burp when she handled it, indicating it didn't think she was even worth talking too. Why it came to me in the first place, I have no idea. Maybe it was feeling abandoned? "Excellent. Now that you're sorted we can move on."

She spun on her heel and started marching up the hill with determined strides.

"Move on to what?" Harry called as he trotted to catch up to her. "Shouldn't we bring the bodies?"

Draco smirked at Potter's back. Case in point; one prancing pony. The well trained Malfoy heir took long but elegant strides to keep up, with Neville also trotting along as well, bringing up the rear of the little chain of Granger followers. He decided to enlighten Potter to current events to save from having to listen to the ten hour long debriefing Hermione was more than likely to give to her friend. "Granger has this insane idea that she's going to undo all the crap we've been through the last few years by going back in time. Snape told her where to find a Time-Turner. She's probably thinking that if that works, the bodies will no longer be there to move."

Harry paused and gawked back at Malfoy for a moment before jogging to catch up again. He blinked at Hermione's billowing robe covered back like she'd lost her mind. "You're going to do what?!" Of course she's planned something so barking mad. I swear her epitaph is going to read:

The Unstoppable Hermione Granger:

The brightest Witch of her Age with barmy ideas to match that somehow always worked.

Until the Last One.

Harry was already afraid this was 'The Last One'.

While Harry was imagining her tombstone, Hermione spun around and glared at Draco, walking backwards uphill. "It is not an insane idea, Malfoy. It's a brilliant one. And Professor Snape seemed to think it will work, so I'll trust that it will."

Draco almost snorted out loud. Gullible swot. Might as well let her try, though. She'll never give it up if she doesn't. "Fine. It's a reasonable idea," the sly Slytherin appeased the beautiful harpy. "Where is this Time-Turner, anyway?"

Hermione resumed marching forwards as she reached the first of the stone steps. "Professor Snape said that it's in the Headmaster's office. He mentioned Fawkes' stand," she called over her shoulder.

Draco raised a brow at the questionable hiding spot for a Time-Turner, but quickly corrected her. "Then you need to go down, not up. Un… Snape moved most of Dumbledore's things to the Potion Master's office since no one but he was using it and it didn't look good for him to have various Dumbledore-esque baubles in his new office. And just in case you didn't know, Snape had been doing double duty as Headmaster and as Potions Master, which is why he had two officer. The poor man hardly had time to sleep."

"Oh." Poor Snape is right. Hermione mentally shrugged at the location change. "To the dungeons it is then… with a short detour to a lav."

Draco snorted quietly, exchanging a knowing look with Potter that went far beyond their enmity. They'd both realized long ago that girls were always primping and completely incapable of not using the loo before any important event. (The well pampered blond disregarded the fact that he'd spent an inordinate portion of his life in front of a mirror as well, making sure his hair was falling just right and that his robes were sitting properly on his shoulders.)


A/N: Heevie Skeevies: A constant state of being mildly creeped out. As far as I know, I made this up. :D I liked it when I thought of it, so it's a thing now.