Nothing's really different,
and everything is.
Because now, there's the ominous ticking following them, where ever they go.
Like a rhythm to their days, impossible to tune out.
It makes her feel like their time is running low.
But low on what?
Their time in here?
Or their time in general?
Their time together?
What if it stops one day and they just disappear?
Like always he tries to keep her mind off things they can do nothing about.
But even when he's kissing her, holding her, touching her, there's the ticking that never leaves them alone.
"Maybe it's meant to drive us insane?" She muses as they lie in the bed, his finger absently drawing circles on her bare back, "Maybe the silence didn't work so they added this?"
"Who are they exactly?"
"I don't know! Maybe that's the problem!" She groans against him, "I just want to live in peace!"
"This is peace." He talks to her hair.
"With the fucking ticking it isn't!"
"Forget it!" He tilts her head up and kisses her, all consuming.
And briefly she believes it's possible to forget.
.
.
.
They return to the books, trying to find a meaning to the clock.
But before they find anything the tolls start.
She drops the books she's been holding.
It's like the whole castle is vibrating as the bell tolls.
It makes her think of funerals.
He has frozen too, listening to the sound echoing from all the walls.
Twelve times, then it stops and it's back to ticking.
Panic bubbles in her.
She turns the small vial, hanging around her neck, in her hands. If this all disappears now, at least she has these memories!
"We need to go, see what it meant." He's standing beside her, his hand on the small of her back.
She takes a deep breath and nods.
He starts to lead the way, but she stops him, "Draco…"
"If something happens…"
"Don't! Nothing is happening to you!" He takes her hand.
"No, you need to listen!" She pleads him, "If something happens I… I wouldn't change a thing! I would… I will help you in the real world too if that's what it takes! I'll tell everyone I'm on your side. I'll stand by you… if you want me to."
He's shaking his head but there's a sad smile in his eyes.
He doesn't say anything but kisses her and then looks deep into her eyes, "Nothing is going to happen to you!"
Then they go to the clock room.
"It's little over midday," He studies the clock, "Explains the twelve tolls."
She refuses to believe it's just that. But nothing's seemingly different, so there's not much they can do.
The same happens in midnight: twelve tolls, nothing else.
He tries to act like it doesn't bother him, but she can see his on the edge too, and as reluctant to let her out of his sight, as she is with him.
The pressure makes their mood more serious.
Before the ticking they were so used to be at ease, now it's like tip going, never knowing what tomorrow brings.
She feels like she should tell him, but what if he thinks it's not real? What if he doesn't feel like she does?
But it pains her to think they'll leave here without him knowing. Even if he must know something. She promised to stand by him after all. But she feels like she needs to elaborate. To tell him how much she cares about him. How much she likes the person he is. How she feels like he understands her without her having to say a word. How in her dreams they have a future and in that future he's her family for real.
Without the clock and the tolling this was the only reality. And in that reality it seemed inevitable, their future, but anywhere else…
She should tell him.
But something holds her back.
.
.
.
Time still goes on and the warm summer breeze starts to smell like autumn.
Sometimes it rains as they stand in the tower.
The rain makes her think that maybe the world outside is still turning. People living their lives. They just can't see them.
The thought chills her insides.
They find hundreds of magical clocks from the books.
But none of them lead them any closer to knowing what their clock means.
"Maybe we should just smash it to pieces?" He suggests one day.
"Without any idea what it does if we do that?" They can't do that!
And then it comes down to what they want out of life.
Because she's almost certain, if the clock was there when they first woke up in here, they wouldn't have thought twice, smashing it would have been the first thing to try to get them out.
Then it didn't matter as long as they got out.
Now the outcome mattered a lot!
"Listen!" She stops him and points at the book she's holding, "Experiments, made in the department of mysteries, show that there are, in fact, multiple timelines besides our own."
He leans closer, "Show me."
She continues, "Those timelines run with our known timeline, holding the possible alternative realities." She turns to him, "What if this is one of those alternative timelines?"
"Why would we be the only ones here then? Shouldn't there be like double versions of everyone?" He sounds doubtful.
"Maybe something went wrong and only we got to this timeline?"
"Doesn't explain the clock though."
He's right, it doesn't. And other than suspicion the book doesn't give them much else.
But if this is an alternative timeline, doesn't it mean that the original is going on somewhere in another dimension?
Without them?
Is it even possible to jump from one timeline to another?
"I'm going to the library." She tells him getting up.
He's not that exited, but reluctantly follows her nevertheless.
.
.
.
"It's about a year now." He tells her one evening beside the fire.
She only nods, knowing he's right.
After a while of silence, she sits up to look at him seriously, "What if this is the rest of our lives?"
He shrugs, "Could be worse."
"What if I'm the only company you'll have for the rest of your life?"
It's not like she hasn't thought about that before but this is the first time she brings it up with him.
His eyes meet hers and he shrugs again, "Could do worse."
She studies him silently,
After a while he says, "I mean what if I was stuck here for all eternity with Weasley for example?"
She snorts without meaning to, "What a beautiful romance it would have been."
He wrinkles his nose, looking repulsed, "No! That's where I draw the line!"
Then he goes serious, "Besides if it wasn't you, I wouldn't be here to have romance with anyone."
That's right, he would have jumped.
The thought of him not existing makes her suddenly overflowingly sad.
If he would have jumped, she would never have gotten to know him.
And the thought that she would have lost him before she even knew she wanted to have him… almost makes her want to cry.
"I'm glad I didn't let you jump." She says sadly.
He lifts his hand to move a stray curl from her face, "So am I."
She leans in to kiss him.
Lifts her hands up to pull him closer.
And he picks her up, carries her to the bedroom.
She knows him so well.
Every angle,
every muscle,
every scar,
under her hands.
She knows how to kiss him,
how to touch him,
like he knows her.
He's the ice to her fire,
the water to her earth.
He's part of her,
undeniable.
And he's the only one who ever should be holding her.
He's the only one to touch her.
the only man to make love to her.
Because she's his.
Body and soul too.
all of her in this reality,
this timeline,
and in all the other timelines they might ever live in.
.
.
.
She wakes up in the morning, unsure at first what woke her up.
But after a while she realizes: Silence.
There's no ticking,
no tolls.
Eyes closed she listens to the familiar silence.
Is this good? Or bad?
"Draco." She turns to him.
He's sitting up in the bed, looking slightly confused.
There's something else off about him too.
Almost like he's transparent.
and the look on his face, is like he hears something,
something she can't hear.
She reaches for him but the only thing her fingers touch is air.
Her heart takes an extra leap and she tries again.
But as he doesn't react to her, she realizes she doesn't feel the weight of him in the bed either.
What's happening?
"Draco?" She manages a chocked sound as she rises to sit next to him.
But he has already gotten up, yanked the curtains from around the bed.
She shrieks and lifts the blanket to cover her upper body.
Because the room is full of people.
She can't hear a sound,
but they're there.
Vincent Grabbe and Gregory Goyle sitting on their beds.
Theo Nott buttoning his shirt and Blaise Zabini exiting the bathroom looking at Draco with questioning face.
Draco is looking around, moving the sheets like searching for something.
Is he looking for her?
But the sheets in her bed, don't move.
They can't see her. He can't see her!
The bed his in looks like the same bed she sits on, but is not.
She feels like world has stopped turning.
Panicked she reaches for him again,
with no success.
He can't see her,
can't hear her,
can't feel her.
He's there and she's alone in the other side.
And he has no idea.
His hand shoots up to reach for the vial of memories that is still around his neck. It seems to calm him a little.
But he's still looking around like expecting she might show up suddenly.
And oh, how she wishes she could!
She doesn't even care there are other people in the room! She just wants to feel him! for him to hold her and never let go!
The boys are talking… she can tell by the movement of their lips…
She wants to scream! To cry! To throw something!
She picks up a pillow and throws it across the room where Theo is standing.
The pillow lands on the empty bed with a thud, but on the boys' side, nothing!
As he dresses up, she numbly does the same.
Because she doesn't know what else to do.
Just follow him, she tells herself. He'll notice you're not there and he'll do something about it.
He doesn't wait for his friends but dashes out the room as soon as he's in his clothes.
She follows.
Everything is back.
The room, the halls buzzing with people,
who don't see her,
don't know she's here.
He though, seems to have hard time getting used to other people. He bumps into them every now and then, rushing through the corridors.
She's still in the same silence, walking through people running behind him towards the Great Hall.
Please be a nightmare, she prays as they reach the hall.
But it just gets worse.
She steps into the hall on his heels. It's full of cheery students having breakfast.
And there, in the Gryffindor table, she sees Harry and Ron and Ginny in a vivid conversation.
And next to Ginny,
is her.
Her, like she used to be before this all happened.
She even looks different.
And by the look of herself, she wonders if time has passed at all.
"No…" She whispers as he starts to make his way towards the Gryffindors, "nonononono!"
It's like all her nightmares have come true. Like all the bad things she thought could happen have happened.
Because the moment he taps her shoulder and the shadow of her turns around, he knows.
and she knows,
that her, on the table,
remembers nothing.
He looks at that girl and she wants to cry. Because behind the mask he tries to put on she sees desperation and confusion.
He remembers.
But she doesn't.
It's so much worse they ever thought it could be! It was always the fear that none of them will remember. Never the possibility that only the other one doesn't.
"It's not me!" She tries to yell into his ear, "I'm here! I'm still here!"
Tears start to gather in her eyes… and she feels like her fingers have gone numb.
He needs her!
HE NEEDS HER AND SHE'S NOT THERE!
"IT'S NOT ME! I STILL REMEMBER!" She cries, trying to take hold of his sleeve.
But he still doesn't hear her. And she doesn't hear what he's saying but he's showing her the vial around his neck.
And the fake her on the table looks at him,
like he's something dirty.
She never knew she had that look on her face when she looked at him.
Ron stands up and clearly tells Draco to fuck off.
He tries to protest, pointing to her neck.
Frustrated her in the table lifts up a pedant she vaguely remembers carrying around.
The look on his face is taken aback and full of disbelief. Then he turns around and runs out the hall.
She follows him.
Up the corridors to the third floor.
Yanks open the clock room door with him.
The room he enters is empty.
In hers the clock is still there.
And now, standing close to it, she hears it's still ticking.
But quietly now.
And the hand with his colors, has stopped.
He falls to his knees on the floor of the empty room and buries his face to his hands.
For a moment she tries to scream his name through her tears.
But after a while she, too, falls on the floor sobs wrecking through her.
Please
Please
Please
Let this be a nightmare!