A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. I was working on this, but got distracted. Here's ch 2. Hopefully I'll be able to post more regularly. I became disabled in November 2020 and left my job in Feb 2021. It's been hard to adjust, and I'm now with my toddler and teens 24/7. Now that I'm coming up from a bad depressive state, I'm hoping I can keep the momentum going. Thanks for sticking in there with me. xoxo I own nothing.

She felt the unmistakable squeezing of an apparition, but there was something else… something she was familiar with, though, it lasted far longer than what she was used to. When the feeling subsided, and she was thrown onto the ground, toppling onto Malfoy, she realized what had happened. She could feel his body below hers, strong and muscled. She shook her head and rolled off of him. He clamored to his feet and wiped himself off, then extended his hand to her. She took it.

"Malfoy, where are we, and most importantly, when are we?"

"Merlin, not one thing gets by you, does it?"

"Well, I'm not "the brightest witch of our age" for nothing, right?"

"Yeah, that's the thing. I don't know exactly when we are, though, it does look like we're in the Forbidden Forest still, so that's good."

She nodded.

"We need a story. And we need to change your appearance."

He looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"Why change my appearance, I'm better looking than you are."

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Again, brightest witch. Wherever we are, whenever we are, you can spot a Malfoy from 100 feet. That hair of yours will give us away. Only one family can produce men who look like you."

Draco's hand fell.

"Damn.. you're right."

"Okay, hold still."

Hermione cast a charm on him. To her, he appeared to be the same silver haired, blue eyed boy she went to school with, but to everyone else, he was brown haired with brown eyes. At least, she hoped it worked to be that way.

"So, for you and I, you still look the same. To everyone else, you have brown hair and brown eyes. Okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks. Let's head up to the castle then, shall we?"

They walked quietly through the forest and headed up the long walk that led to the castle.

"We're going to need to come up with a good cover story," Draco said, as they neared the front door.

"We will. I just need to get a grasp on what year we're in first."

They walked through the open front doors, passing by students milling around. It was dinner time. Everyone would be in the Great Hall.

Draco grabbed Hermione's arm.

"Should we just walk in like this? What are we going to do or say?"

"I'm hoping the students will give me a clue as to what year we're in. I'll look around as we walk up to Dumbledore. Once I figure out when we are, that's when I'll formulate our story and decide what to tell him."

"Oh, you're going to do that all on your own?"

"Yes. Now hush. I need to concentrate."

Draco muttered something under his breath, but Hermione was too focused to pay him any mind.

Their footsteps echoed through the Great Hall, and all the chatter stopped as the students looked at the newcomers with big eyes. Hermione carefully looked around the room. She looked to the Gryffindor table. She saw the infamous Potter hair, in what looked to be Harry in his first year. She looked around the room and cursed. Lucius. He looked to be 7th year.

Hermione pinched Draco. His eyes followed her line of sight and he cursed.

1971.

Hermione fixed her eyes on Dumbledore and McGonagall, both of whom were standing, Minerva with a scowl on her face, and Albus with twinkling eyes.

"Headmaster," Hermione said with a confidence Draco didn't share. "Deputy Headmistress. We'd love to speak with you, if that's alright."

"Of course," Albus said. "You two look like you've been through a great ordeal. Would you care for some food."

"That would be most welcome, and perhaps a visit to your infirmary after?" Draco said.

"Why yes, I think that would be prudent," Minerva said, eyeing the two young people in front of her. "We shall have a conversation after." Draco nodded.

"Please, join us," Albus said, waving his wand to the end of the faculty table, conjuring up two chairs for them.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

She and Draco made their way to the chairs and took a seat. When they looked up from the table, they could see that all the students still had eyes on them. After a couple of minutes, the normal chatter came back to the Hall, though there were several curious eyes still fixed on them.

Draco and Hermione ate. Draco focused on his food to avoid looking for his father. Hermione however, continued scanning the room as she ate slowly. That's when she saw his piercing black eyes staring at her. She froze, her complexion paling more than it already was. She nudged Draco with her knee. He looked up at her, then again, followed her gaze. He cursed softly. Antonin Dolohov sat beside Lucius, Narcissa, and a few other notorious Death Eaters. Hermione looked back down at her food, but she could still feel him staring at her.

"Did you know he came here?" she asked softly.

"No," Draco replied. Hermione nodded slightly.

"It'll be okay," she said.

Her response was more enthusiastic than she felt. She could feel Draco's eyes on her. She met them. They looked… concerned. She gave him a small smile, then turned back to the Hall to look some more. She smiled as she looked over the Gryffindor table, immediately spotting the jet black stuck up Potter hair, belonging to an eleven year old James Potter. She nudged Draco. He followed her gaze and gave her a look followed by an eye roll, letting her know he knew who that was.

They finished eating and stood, nodding to Dumbledore. They stopped by him on their way up the faculty table.

"Might we have someone escort us to your infirmary?" Hermione asked. Draco stood silently behind her, his piercing eyes watching her every move.

"Of course," said Dumbledore. He called out for Narcissa, who was a Slytherin Prefect.

"Narcissa," he said as she came up to them, her long blonde hair flouncing behind her as she moved. "Would you please escort our two guests to the infirmary. I'll join them there shortly."

"As you wish, Headmaster," she said. Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and squeezed. She squeezed it in return. They stood up and followed Narcissa as she led them from the Great Hall. Hermione spent the entire time thinking of what to tell Dumbledore. How much information she should give him. She certainly didn't trust him, but she did have to tell him some semblance of the truth. Once they arrived at the infirmary, Narcissa called for Madam Pomfrey and then left without a word to them. Madam Pomfrey, not one for many questions when people needed healing, started tending to their wounds.

Dumbledore and McGonagall walked through the doors as Madam Pomfrey put on the finishing touches to Draco's wounds and began her work on Hermione. When she got to the fresh wound on Hermione's forearm, she gasped.

"Albus, look."

There, against her light umber skin, stood the cursed wound. Mudblood. Hermoine sighed and removed her shirt to get the incredulous gasps out of the way. The purple scar across her abdomen, long and foreboding to look at. The various other scars and marks she'd received being a soldier, and the obvious malnutrition, with her ribs and collarbone poking out grotesquely.

"It would seem," Albus said, "our guests have been through quite the ordeal. Would you care to share your story?"

Hermione glanced at Draco, who nodded and then shrugged his shoulders. Hermione took the concealment charm off of him.

"You look like a Malfoy," McGonagall said.

"That's because I am," said Draco.

"We are from the year 1998. We were in the middle of a battle against Voldemort and the Death Eaters when I was cornered. I was able to escape and run, but I was close to being caught, again, and Draco showed up with a time turner."

Hermione pulled the time turner out of her bag and showed it to Albus.

"Fascinating. We have yet to come up with something like this."

"Yes," Hermione said, "even in our time, they are new and rare. They won't be invented until the 1980s.1982, exactly. But the point is, we are from the future, and if any of the Death Eaters present at Hogwarts finds out about us, we will be in grave danger."

"I assume that you are keeping Draco's identity a secret entirely."

"Considering his parents are students here, yes, we thought it would be best to avoid disrupting the timeline too much. Who knows what will happen with us being here."

"Well, do either of you happen to speak French?"

"Oui," they said simultaneously.

"Good. You shall be exchange students from Beauxbatons. I'm assuming you attended Hogwarts. What houses were you in?"

"I was in Gryffindor. Draco was in Slytherin."

"Naturally. Would you like to keep your original houses or be resorted?"

"I don't think it's safe for Draco to be in Slytherin alone…"

"No, nor do I," Albus said. "We'll put you both in Slytherin."

Hermione's jaw dropped. That's not what she meant at all. She was hoping they could both be in Gryffindor.

"Headmaster, Granger isn't capable of being in Slytherin. She's too… Gryffindor to make it in Slytherin House." Draco was visibly upset, which unnerved Hermione.

"That may be true. But I would like you to stay together, and I would like you both to keep an eye on the Death Eaters in this can only do that if you're in their house. Keep me updated on how many students have been recruited and any threat they pose to the school. Can you handle that?"

"Yes," they both said.

"Very well. You'll stay here until you are well enough to be moved to the dungeons. Rest well."

Albus and Minerva left and Poppy went off in search of more potions to work on Hermione.

"We're screwed," Draco said.

"Draco, I don't know if you know this or not, but I can be quite cunning. I'm sure I can pass."

"You are cunning, Granger, but you have the bleeding heart and no self-preservation of any Gryffindor I've ever met. You'll need to keep that in check lest you be found out."

"Merlin, Draco… what are we going to do. Your dad, Antonin… I'm in trouble."

"Don't worry, Granger… I've got you."

She looked into his slate eyes and for some reason, for the second time in a 24 hour period, she believed him.