A/N: As always, all grammatical errors are my own.
I have also gone back and made a few corrections (grammatical and stylistic) on the previous chapters which should be updated soon! So if you're not caught up-or if you want to check out these changes- feel free to reread!
I love you all for the wonderful support. Also, don't forget to comment as I, like most authors, crave validation! ;)
Without further ado, here's the latest installment of Adrift in Time!
September 1, 1995
It was quite chilly when the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station later that night. The strong breeze carried the beginnings of fall and hints of winter within it throughout the small village. A breeze that seemed to Draco much too cold for the first of September. It was as if the castle grounds hadn't decided what to make of his untimely presence back. Not knowing whether to drive him out for good just yet.
Draco shuffled out of the train compartment after Blaise Zabini. Crabbe, Goyle, and Theo weren't far behind, the latter cracking jokes at Goyle's expense. Their trunks floating behind them with a steady levitation charm. Still inside the train, he was able to make out a voice calling out to the first years; for they were to make their trek across the Lake and not by horseless carriages as the rest of the student body did. Hurrying, the group of Slytherins started making their way out of the village and towards the carriages when Daphne Greengrass and a blotchy faced Pansy Parkinson crossed their paths. Pansy's frigid glare was directed solely at Draco while Theo found himself the recipient of Daphne's own disapproving stare.
Pansy hadn't come back to see him after his very public rejection. However, Draco knew that the girl would forgive him sooner rather than later and be hanging off him in no less than a week. This fact subsided whatever small amount of guilt he felt in the pit of his stomach from treating her so harshly.
To be honest, he knew Pansy would soon grow to be more mature and become, what some would call, an agreeable person—one he might even consider a friend. In his original timeline, she was terrified of the war she knew would be happening but she kept a stiff upper lip. She ended up being a strong motherly figure to the younger Slytherins in 1998. Maybe he could even try and bring out that side of her sooner rater than later. But contradictory to his original fifth year, his attention lay not on Pansy, but on a certain bushy haired Gryffindor. Granted, not for the same immature reasons he seemed to have been attracted to Parkinson, but for a much greater purpose.
A small, but nonetheless strong, part of his mind nagged at him to talk to Hermione. But he was actually glad that Weasley had stopped him from spilling whatever word vomit that would've come out of his mouth at the time. Draco hadn't been exactly sure about what he would say to Hermione. And the more he thought about it, the more he steadied upon the decision of telling Severus first. At least that way, he could be able to help Draco figure out what to say to the Gryffindor. His hand inconspicuously trailed to his robe pockets to seek comfort from the time turner; only for him to falter in dread as he felt nothing there.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Bloody Fucking Hell.
Draco swore under his breath as he patted his other pocket in search of the necklace. His vision went blurry. This was the only proof he had for Dumbledore to ask for assistance. He tried his other robe pocket. Without any luck, he thought quickly about the last place he held it. The train. Thinking quickly, Malfoy ripped off his Prefect badge from his silver and emerald robes as he then called out to Blaise. The sharp staccato of his breath marking the beat of the deadly song playing in his head.
"Zabini, would you take my trunk to the carriage for me? I seem to have misplaced my badge," said the blond, putting down his trunk and pointing to his chest. At the darker boy's inquisitive gaze Draco answered, "No need to wait for me, I'll catch the next carriage up."
"Alright," said a compliant Blaise as he successfully levitated both trunks and followed the others down the road. Turning around, the Slytherin prefect started walking back up to Hogsmeade. Students were still making their way from the station and Draco could only hope that the train hadn't shut its doors.
After a very intense and brisk walk (Malfoys never run) he let out a relieved breath at seeing a few straggling students still exiting the Express. He made his way into the train car and looked all around the compartment he and his friends had previously occupied. No seat cushion was left unturned; to no avail. Draco ran his hands through his hair in desperation and anger at himself. He was contemplating ways to reprimand himself as he exited the train and was once again walking down the road. His hand needed something else to focus on instead of his hair. And Draco resolved the issue by stuffing them into his trouser pockets instead. There, he felt a chain. He clasped his fingers around it and pulled it out in one fluid motion. The time turner was dangling in the air in front of him and Draco closed his eyes in irritation.
You're losing your mind, Draco. You need to relax. Breathe. Pages. Bindings. Books. Shelves. He calmed himself down. Compartmentalizing his mind in an effort to make his thoughts less scattered. He needed to focus if this situation was going to pan out positively. Draco made his way back towards the horseless carriages virtually alone, as all other students had long since left the train. He was thinking about how best to handle his current situation when he looked up to find himself face to face with a very not horseless horseless carriage. A tall equine-like figure, which could only be described as a skeletal winged horse, stood at the head of the carriage.
Having never seen these creatures before, he stood back, staring in disbelief. Their wings seemed to him like tanned leather bat wings while its eyes, although hollowed, seemed to stare right into his soul; bringing out in him a beautiful sadness. He shivered in the cool, late summer breeze. A feeling of Death was oozing out from around the creature; but not in a bad way. It was morbidly beautiful how he could tell that it was Death which made it possible for him to see them.
And looking back, his first encounter with death had been in June of 1996. Dumbledore. After that day, he'd never ridden the carriages again—opting to floo directly to Snape's office his seventh year. Thus, avoiding the chaos that he knew the Hogwarts Express would be. Not to mention what the others would be saying about him. He was a Slytherin, yes. But that didn't mean he was devoid of all emotion. Malfoy shivered at the memory but nevertheless found himself walking closer as a feeling of understanding for the dark, beautiful beasts washed over him. What are you?
"They're Thestrals," piped up a light voice from behind him. It was only then that he'd realized he'd been talking out loud to himself. Draco spun around, his eyes meeting those of the very same Ravenclaw girl that had been a prisoner at his own home just a few days back. She'd gone with Potter. A wave of guilt came crashing in, sending him to drown in a mental tsunami of emotion. Luna must have taken his expression as apprehension towards the equines because she lifted her palm to pet the creature's head as to show to him their tameness. "They're really nice. Hagrid has them well trained."
"You can see them?" Draco asked, bewildered. Who else had been unfortunate enough to come face to face with death?
"Oh yes, have been since my first year here," Luna replied, cocking her head to the side and smiled up at him. The gesture felt genuine and that fact alone triggered a flicker of warmth in his heart. "Don't worry, you're not going mad or anything," Luna shifted her dreamy blue gaze towards the Thestral in front of them, "you're just as sane as I am."
The thought wasn't very comforting in itself but the intention had ignited a sort of happiness in Draco. For the first time, he felt… normal. Accepted. He held out his own hand and the Thestral nuzzled his palm. The Ravenclaw withdrew her own and stepped away, letting Draco move closer to the skeletal horse.
"So, when'd you come back to our time?" asked Luna nonchalantly. Draco's eyes widened as he stared at the girl. How the fuck did she know? He gaped at her, unable to come up with an answer to the question. However, it didn't seem to matter as she seemed to be paying attention to something behind himself. He turned around to find nothing and he observed Luna questioningly. "A Whackspurt, you see. They buzz by your ear and make your brain go all fuzzy." He nodded distractedly in complete agreement. I must be going mental.
"What did you mean by 'coming back to our time'?" He asked her, withdrawing his hand from the Thestral and turning to Luna.
"Just that if you need help with any part of your quest, I'd be happy to oblige, Draco Malfoy," responded Luna airily, curtsying quickly. The blonde fourth year climbed into the carriage. "We're going to miss the sorting if we don't leave." Draco didn't move. His mouth hung open, still in shock at her words. "Are you coming?" Without a word, he nodded and climbed in. For the rest of the ride, Luna continued to inform him about Whackspurts and their habitats. Neither one of them mentioning the fact that Draco Malfoy had been nice to Loony Lovegood without any ulterior motive.
The two Gryffindor girls walked into the Great Hall right behind Ron, Neville, and Harry. Hermione took her usual seat across from them at the Gryffindor table while Ginny walked over to the Ravenclaws looking forward to greeting her boyfriend. Luna was absent from the group as she hadn't joined them for the ride to the castle. The dreamy Ravenclaw had said that she feared "the imbalance of Dabberblimps in the carriage" would lead to the rest of them sleepwalking later that night. Instead, she had opted to stay behind and wait for the next available carriage. And from what Hermione could see, that carriage hadn't arrived yet.
The Great Hall was alive with bustling students and chattering ghosts. The candles floating above gave off a welcoming light as the stars twinkled brightly on the enchanted ceiling. Hermione smiled subconsciously at the feeling of being back home. She'd missed the castle more than she dared to admit this past summer. Harry, however, didn't seem to share her sentiments as he was frowning at an indiscernible point near the double doors. Hermione had noticed his strange behaviour ever since they boarded the horseless carriages. But, of course, hadn't said anything about the issue in fear of him blowing up in her face… again. Instead, she tried to distract herself from whatever was going on in his teenage mind by scanning the staff table for any more noticeable changes.
She already knew Hagrid was mysteriously absent and Professor Grubbly-Plank had temporarily taken his spot at the table— or at least she hoped it would be temporarily. Her favorite professors, nonetheless, were already seated at their usual spots. McGonagall was chatting with Flitwick while Professor Sprout was making conversation with what looked like a very uncomfortable Professor Snape. Hermione bit her lip slightly to contain the laughter that threatened to spill out due to the expression of obvious discomfort plastered on the potion master's face. Her eyes continued down the line. Professors Sinistra, Vector, Binns, Trelawney, and so on were all talking amongst themselves. However, she did a double take at their new professor who had seated herself beside Dumbledore.
The woman was- for a lack of a better term- toad like. Her curly brown hair framed a round and awfully red face. Her eyes were small and she wore what many would consider too much pink. She seemed to be quite stout and Hermione's face wrinkled in quick dislike. She interrupted Harry and Ron's conversation surrounding their theories for Hagrid's absence with a tap on the latter's shoulder.
"Who's that?" She asked quietly as her finger pointed to the woman dressed in the atrocious pink monstrosity. Harry's eyes followed her finger and his face contorted as if he'd looked at something quite disturbing. And perhaps he had.
"It's that Umbridge woman," Harry informed them. "She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge." Ron laughed and made an offhanded comment about her appearance but Hermione wasn't listening. She was too caught up on the information Harry had just given them.
"Works for Fudge?" She repeated to herself, eyeing the subject in question distrustingly. The woman was currently talking to Dumbledore in hushed voices. Occasionally looking out into the sea of students with revulsion. "What on earth is she doing here?" Hermione asked an equally distrusting Harry. But her question wasn't answered as Professor McGonagall opened the heave double doors and the Hall hushed itself.
The witch entered, carrying the Sorting Hat with one hand while the other carried a stool for the first years. The students followed shortly thereafter. Some were gawking at the grandeur of the Great Hall while others looked so scared that Hermione was sure someone told them that they'd have to fight a dragon before getting sorted. The Hat which now sat on the stool cleared its throat before starting the sorting with his song:
In times of old when I was new, And Hogwarts barely started, The founders of our noble school, Thought never to be parted, United by a common goal, They had the selfsame yearning, To make the world's best magic school, And pass along their learning. So how could it have gone so wrong? How could such friendships fail? Why, I was there and so can tell, The whole sad, sorry tale. Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those whose Ancestry is purest." Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose Intelligence is surest." Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those With brave deeds to their name." Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot, And treat them just the same." These differences caused little strife, When first they came to light, For each of the four founders had A house in which they might Take only those they wanted. So Hogwarts worked in harmony For several happy years, But then discord crept among us Feeding on our faults and fears. The houses that, like pillars four, Had once held up our school, Now turned upon each other and, Divided, sought to rule. And for a while it seemed the school Must meet an early end, What with dueling and with fighting And the clash of friend on friend And never since the founders four Were whittled down to three Have the houses been united As they once were meant to be. And now the Sorting Hat is here And you all know the score: I sort you into houses Because that is what I'm for, But this year I'll go further, Listen closely to my song: Though condemned I am to split you Still I worry that it's wrong, Though I must fulfill my duty And must quarter every year Still I wonder whether Sorting May not bring the end I fear. Oh, know the perils, read the signs, The warning history shows, For our Hogwarts is in danger From external, deadly foes And we must unite inside her Or we'll crumble from within For someone is Adrift in Time, The heir that's lost is here And he has brought the Past with him To save the world from what he fears. I have told you, I have warned you… Let the Sorting now begin!
The song ended and there was a wave of chatter that went through the room. Hermione tried to think back to Hogwarts: A History and any mention it might contain of the Hat giving a warning during his song but nothing came to mind. At least nothing within the last hundred years. Her confused stare matched those of several other students as she scanned the Great Hall. Her amber gaze caught wide, grey eyes from the Slytherin table which quickly tore away. Curious, she raised her brows before turning to her best friends.
"Does Dra- Malfoy," Hermione corrected, "look sort of- I don't know. Anxious… to you?" finished the brunette. The boys whipped their heads around to glimpse at the Slytherin, suspicion filling their gaze. She followed their lead to find the boy scowling at the Hat. Stupid thing to do. Scowl at a hat. Oblivious to the trio starring at him from across the room.
"He always looks like trouble," Harry said turning back to face her. "But you're right…" he paused, thinking, "Maybe he's the 'danger' the Hat mentioned?" Ron nodded. Seemingly on board with the idea of accusing Malfoy immediately. Hermione, on the other hand, shook her head.
"Don't be ridiculous, the Hat said that the danger would be from 'an external deadly foe'," she argued, sympathetic eyes still glued upon Draco. "He's not from the outside, it can't be him." She faced her boys once more. "Plus, you can't always believe the worst of people. I said anxious, not guilty." The finality in her tone left no room for argument. But the ginger didn't seem to get the hint.
"I don't know 'Mione." She cringed. "He was acting really weird on the train, trying to get you alone and everything." Harry gaped up to Ron and then at Hermione, protectiveness clear in his green eyes.
"What do you mean 'on the train'?" Asked Harry, his voice carrying hints of coming anger. "What do you mean 'tried to get you alone'?" He whispered harshly at Hermione, not wanting to bring any unwanted attention towards them.
"Nothing. Look, I'll explain later-" Hermione was cut off by the Hat shouting his first: Gryffindor! And she applauded with the rest of her table. Harry's eyes were still looking at her warily but thankfully dropped the subject, clapping along with all of those in crimson robes.
Hermione watched the first years distractedly. Her mind drifting back to the Sorting Hat's song. He'd mentioned that the houses must be united. But Hermione lay stumped on one detail. How exactly does one go uniting houses? She didn't get too much longer to think since the sorting was done faster than expected. Dumbledore got up, his hands still clapping as the last few straggling first years found their way to their new houses.
"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, "welcome! To our returning student- welcome home!" Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Eyes darting to her. "There is a time for speechmaking, but this is not it. Tuck in!" Applause resonated through the Great Hall as platters of food appeared before them.
"Excellent!" Exclaimed and eager Ron Weasley. A roll already in his mouth, his hand outstretched reaching for a platter of chops. Hermione grimaced at her friend's blatant lack of table manners before turning and reaching for some roasted beef, serving herself a decent portion. After spooning herself some vegetables and taking a roll of bread she poured herself some pumpkin juice.
"Has the Hat ever given a warning before, do you reckon?" She asked Harry and Ron. Harry shrugged while Ron said something she couldn't make out through all the half-chewed food in his mouth. The bushy haired Gryffindor grimaced. Hermione took a piece of meat in her mouth. She loved Hogwarts' food. If only elves weren't the ones making it. However, she decided to ignore this fact and enjoy the feast, at least for now. She could knit more hats later. She had her fork in hand and was about to dig into her vegetables when a ghostly head popped up from the middle of her plate, earning himself a small yelp from Hermione.
"Oh yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before," his ghostly eyes looking disapprovingly at Ron, "always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within." Harry looked up at Nearly Headless Nick. He shoveled some mashed potatoes in his mouth and Ron swallowed.
"How can a hat know that the school's in danger?" He asked Nick. "It's a hat." Nick shrugged, his head separating slightly from the nape of his neck.
"I reckon that he hears an awful lot from his place in Dumbledore's office," shrugged the ghost. Hermione nibbled at her bread. "I would trust it. It seems to be right most of the time."
"And it wants the houses to be friends?" Harry asked. The trio and the ghost cast their eyes to the multitude of green. Where Blaise Zabini was laughing at a very serious Draco Malfoy. The darker boy looking as alive as any of the three Gryffindors had ever seen him. Ron gulped down his second roll and reached out for a pie. Hermione was contemplating the fact when Ron answered the rhetorical question.
"Yeah, fat chance of that." He scarfed down the pastry before Hermione had even turned back around. He gulped down some pumpkin juice, a drop escaping down his chin. Nearly Headless Nick looked revolted at the lack of manners.
"Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude," said Nick reprovingly. "Peaceful cooperation, that's the key." Hermione found herself nodding in agreement as she managed to drain her own goblet with grace and elegance. Harry snorted at the idea of cooperation between Gryffindor and Slytherins as Dumbledore once again stood standing, overlooking the students in the Great Hall. They all quieted down, waiting for Dumbledore to get his speech over with and excuse them.
"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and our older students ought to keep that in mind as well." Ron choked on excess pumpkin juice and Harry patted his back with a coy smile. "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door on the third floor.
"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." There was a round of polite applause as Harry exchanged looks with his best friends with panic written clearly across his face. Clearly, he'd caught on to the fact that Dumbledore didn't address how long Grubbly-Plank would be staying. Hermione, on one hand, loved Hagrid. But on the other, she couldn't deny the fact that Professor Grubbly-Plank's lesson plans didn't include dangerous beasts into a class with daft teenage boys. As for the new Defense teacher, well, she couldn't be worse than a Polyjuice-ing Death Eater who'd kept an Order member in a trunk all year. Certainly not worse than last year.
Dumbledore let the applause die down before clearing his throat in an effort to continue. He was about to recommence his speech when a high pitched "Hem, hem" interrupted him. From behind him, Professor Umbridge had stood up, clearly intending to make her own speech. Dumbledore looked caught off guard, furrowing his brows, but gracefully let Umbridge take the podium, sitting down and focusing his attention on what she'd have to say. McGonagall, on the other hand, had pursed her lips in displeasure and stared at the new addition to the staff. Not too accepting of the fact that the pudgy woman dared to interrupt their beloved Headmaster.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge started, "for those kind words of welcome." Hermione scrutinized the witch. A rush of dislike running through her body. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!" She glanced around. None of the faces he could see looked happy. Their faces ranging from serious to dubious to taken aback and annoyed at being addressed as five year olds. "I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again with a "hem, hem".
Hermione listened attentively to Professor Umbridge as she talked about the ministry's goals for the education of their wizarding children. Picking apart every sentence for an insight into the mind of the Professor who apparently was working for Fudge. "There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…" Hermione could feel the attention of everybody around her slipping. Lavender and Parvati were sitting a few seats down from her, discussing how much of a fashion tragedy Umbridge's fluffy, pink cardigan was. A few seats along from Cho at the Ravenclaw table, Luna Lovegood had got out The Quibbler again and seemed to be humming to herself (much to the added annoyance of those around her). However, Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience and continued.
"Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited." Hermione had tried to find a good quality in this despicable woman throughout her speech and failed miserably. She tried to wipe the frown that had unknowingly crept onto her face during the last couple of minutes but it wouldn't budge. The woman concluded her speech, much to the pleasure of everyone around her, and promptly sat down. Dumbledore then led the Hall in weak applause before standing up himself and thanking Umbridge for her unplanned speech.
"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating." Ron snorted and Hermione turned her attention towards him.
"He's not wrong, you know," she told him as Dumbledore stood, hitting the last few points in his speech. Ron looked at her dubiously.
"You're joking right?" he asked quietly. "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy."
"Of course it was dull," she said, smiling at the small dig towards Percy. "But it told us a lot about why she's here." Harry looked up from his distracted daze.
"It did?"
Hermione nodded. "She's here because the Ministry is infiltrating Hogwarts." Hermione bit her lip, thinking. "Perhaps to keep an eye on Dumbledore since everyone thinks he's off his rocker because of last year." Harry looked down. Guilt clouding his eyes. Hermione winced at her tactless words and quickly added a "But of course, it's not your fault, Harry."
The trio apparently missed the school wide dismissal, because now, the entire student body had gotten up and was making its way towards the doors. Ron was getting ready to join them when Hermione caught his arm. "Ron, we're supposed to show the first years where to go!"
"Oh yeah," said Ron, who had obviously forgotten. He waved goodbye at Harry who sulked off after Neville before turning towards the gathered first years. "Okay you lot, listen up," He started. Ron continued to welcome the younger students in his own way.
Hermione looked around the Great Hall not willing to admit to herself the reason for her wandering eyes. However, she found his eyes searching for her too. The two fifth years made eye contact from across the room before he slipped outside with the current of students. Leaving the Slytherin first years with a yelling Pansy Parkinson. Those poor kids. Hermione thought as she turned around to face her own.
"Now, who's ready to see your new common room?" she enthusiastically asked them with a warm smile.
He had wanted to walk in after the sorting. Opting to make the smallest entrance possible as to not draw attention to himself. At least, that was the best plan he could come up with on the entire ride up to the castle in between Lovegood's incessant, but quite interesting, chatter. In reality, he was completely and utterly terrified to see Headmaster Dumbledore in the flesh. The only man who he'd even been close to actually killing. One who had actually died in front of him. And even worse, he wasn't in any position to show such emotions.
Lovegood had walked in as soon as they'd arrived through the main doors of the castle. She waved a small goodbye to him with a smile; leaving him to his thoughts. He needed to clear his mind before entering the Great Hall. Pages. Thread. Bindings. Books. He heard a sudden halt in the chatter. Rounding the corner to find the corridor leading to the Hall empty, he opened the doors to the Great Hall to find the first years still lined up. McGonagall stood before the staff table, placing the Hat on the stool. Draco noticed heads staring to turn towards him and questioning glances being thrown his way. Ducking his head, he quickly made his way to his spot between Theo and Blaise.
"Where were you mate?" Asked Theo. The boy didn't sound too suspicious about his sudden disappearance. Blaise leaned over to join the two of them.
"He left his Prefect badge on the train," he filled Not in. "Did you find it, by the way? You took an awfully long time," Zabini mentioned, nodding to the spot on Draco's robes where the badge was supposed to be pinned. Malfoy pulled the badge from where he'd stashed it and pinned it in place.
"Yes, of course," he answered, adjusting the badge. His eyes avoiding the Gryffindor table. "I just missed the carriages and had to walk."
"Rotten luck!" Said a sniggering Theo. "Teaches you to be more mindful of your possessions, doesn't it?" Draco glared at his best friend's words.
His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the Sorting Hat's first notes to his song. Draco zoned out. He was never one to pay particularly close attention to the Hat. Instead, focusing on the familiar faces of those who he knew would be affected by the war in just a couple of years. They were all sitting here, oblivious to all the chaos that was soon to come. Luna Lovegood would be kept prisoner in his dungeons. So would Dean Thomas. Neville Longbottom would be scarred and broken, fighting against the rule of terror the Carrow twins instigated at Hogwarts. And Hermione Granger… Hermione Granger would be dead.
For our Hogwarts is in danger From external, deadly foes And we must unite inside her Or we'll crumble from within For someone is Adrift in Time, The heir that's lost is here And he has brought the Past with him To save the world from what he fears. I have told you, I have warned you… Let the Sorting now begin!
Draco blinked in disbelief at the words that were emitted by the hat. For someone is Adrift in Time, the heir that's lost is here. And he has brought the Past with him to save the world from what he fears? Draco felt sick. Loony Lovegood knew he wasn't where he belonged and now so did a bloody hat? Who else in this Merlin-forsaken castle knew he wasn't from here? Surely not many people could know. Wasn't that the entire point for Snape trying to send me back? Draco was so consumed in his thoughts he'd not heard the commencement of the feast. It wasn't until Theo nudged him that he'd realized he had been scowling at the Sorting Hat.
"Draco, are you alright?" He asked worriedly, reaching out for the nearest pitcher and filling his goblet with pumpkin juice.
"You look as if you have just seen Moaning Myrtle's knickers." Blaise chuckled as he too poured himself a drink.
"He's right, mate. You do look more horrendous than usual," Theo agreed, laughing at his own words. To which Draco responded with a deepening scowl. What a comedian. Blaise clapped him on the back with a hearty laugh.
"Ease up, Draco. Eat some food," he said, giving the blond a roll which he took begrudgingly. The boy rolled his eyes at the Slytherin's attitude and turned to Theo, who was once again recounting their summer in Italy in intense detail. Much to the delight of seventh year, Adrian Pucey.
Draco took a bite of his roll. His appetite having banished after listening to the Sorting Hat's song's warning. He was part of this timeline now. And anything that he did would change the future— for better or for worse, he didn't know quite yet. His determined gaze fixated upon Severus up at the staff table. He needed to talk to his Godfather, now.
He tried several times to get Severus's attention. Whether that was with a wave of his hand or a widening of his eyes; he even tried a slight turn of his head towards the door. It was until he was just short of yelling at him from across the Hall that the greasy haired professor arched an unimpressed brow at his attempts. The only reply Draco received from him being his pointer finger signaling: wait a minute, Mr. Malfoy.
Draco shifted in his seat. Agitation coursing through his blood like oxygen. How could he sit when there was so much to do? Dumbledore got up to the podium speech ready.
"…To our returning student- welcome home!" Dumbledore announced joyously. Draco could swear that the Headmaster had made eye contact with him. A strange twinkle in his eyes. But that could just be his paranoia talking. He wanted to get out of the room. He needed to get out of the room. The ceiling was caving in on him. Ironic, given the fact that it seemed to him that there was no ceiling. Only stars.
He stuffed the remainder of the roll in his mouth and swallowed. Malfoy turned to Nott and Zabini, about to tell them that he'd wait for them in the common room when whispering broke out among the students. Confused, Draco turned to the staff table to see none other than Dolores Umbridge making her way up to the podium. He could feel his stomach sink with dread. He'd been so focused on himself that he'd nearly forgotten about Umbridge.
"Hem, hem," she coughed in that fake, high pitched voice he knew so well. Not this bloody woman again. Draco thought as she began making her same speech he had heard three years prior. Draco glanced around the Slytherin table. Most faces he met were smug or inquisitive as they already recognized an ally in the unbearable woman. Looking at the other houses he was met with confused, resentful, and angry faces. Especially at the Gryffindor table where Hermione was attacking her bottom lip with her teeth. Her nervous habit.
She was paying close attention to the speech. Her brows raised at certain points; indicating to Draco that Umbridge had made a comment that didn't exactly line up to the Gryffindor's way of thinking. Either that, or she made a good point concerning the lack of academic structure she was adamant on fixing. Although, the latter was quite debatable considering the Hell she'd put everyone through fifth year—except Slytherin, of course. From the Inquisitorial Squad she'd formed to that fucking blood quill.
It was that at exact time that Draco made his biggest decision yet. He would not let anything happen to Hermione Granger ever again. He'd protect her, not only from Umbridge but he'd protect her form the war to his greatest ability. He'd keep her safe. And if he was going to keep her safe, might as well try to keep the other two safe as well. Although the thought made an inkling or irritation flash through him, — he'd never have assumed the'd be the one to protect Potter and Weasley— this was a promise he'd have to keep.
Applause erupted from the students and everyone was getting up to leave. Draco had missed Dumbledore's final words. He spotted Pansy trying to fight the current of students and make her way up to him. He needed to take the first years down to their dormitory. Damn it. He didn't have time for this.
"Parkinson, you can take care of the first years, right?" He said it more like an order than a command. "Here," he reached out and took Goyle by the arm. "Greg will help you." He didn't turn around to see Pansy's reaction. Instead, he fought his way through the swarm of students and briskly made his way down to the Potion Master's Chambers.
He couldn't have been there for more than two minutes before the billowing robes of Severus Snape rounded the corner. Draco was leaning against the door frame, trying to put up his mental shields. With Hermione alive, he'd been having more success with it. But nothing compared to what it was weeks ago.
"Mr. Malfoy," Snape drawled, "was there any reason for you foolish hand gestures for my attention?" Draco glanced up and down the corridor. No students ever came to the Professor's Chambers but he needed to be careful.
"As a matter of fact, there was." He swiftly pulled out the time turner from his pocket. The sliver necklace caught the torchlight and shimmered. Snape's black eyes widened as big as a Galleon. He grabbed Malfoy by the scuff of his robes and threw him into the room. He swished his wand for a Muffliato and locked the door with a flick.
"Why the fucking Hell do you have this, Draco?" He asked furiously. Snape reached out and plucked the time turner form the younger boy's hand, inspecting it. His gaze narrowed at the runes on the side. Clearly, the time turner was not new, but unfamiliar. Of course, Dumbledore hasn't given it to him yet. Draco thought as Snape continued to dissect every detail of the rare artifact.
"I should be asking you!" Draco argued. "Considering you're the one that sent me back." Snape's comprehension flashed through Snape's eyes.
"Who died?"
"Too many people to count," Draco answered solemnly. Snape handed him back the time turner, folding his arms across his chest. He took the time turner from his godfather. The determination in his brows strong.
"Well?" Snape prodded.
"Severus, we need to talk."