Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thanks also to all those who have reviewed, and yes, I am afraid that all women I write come out a bit like Buffy. Except for when I write Buffy. Dammit. Anyway, yes, Lily is a bit like B. in "Prophecy Girl." Probably not completely intentionally, but since I can recite the dialogue from that ep, it's kind of a given… oh, nevermind.

Through Time

Six: Narrow Escapes

Draco watched Lily across the courtyard, sitting on a bench, head tilted back, talking to Jeremiah James, who argued with Snape more than Harry Potter, and, Draco thought, got away with too much. The Hufflepuff trainee had his arm around her shoulders, and was laughing at what James had said. The Ravenclaw trainee—Draco couldn't remember his name, only that the girls thought he was really handsome, and that he was as suave as a mouse surfing in a bathtub—was leaning against Lily's legs with a book open on his lap.

This presented a problem.

As a rule, Draco Malfoy did not have a problem talking to girls. He did not have a problem talking to girls in front of other boys. No, Draco Malfoy had a problem with girls thinking other boys were more handsome than him and subsequently not paying attention to him. This was the threat that the three trainee professors presented.

Draco strode forward toward Lily, and the Hufflepuff, Black, removed his arm and sat up straighter. Draco walked with his back straight, and with an air of confidence that only money could give. He stopped in front of Lily, and flashed her his most heart-melting smile.

Lily looked up at him, unfazed, her porcelain pale cheeks flushed from laughter, her green eyes sparkled—only a trace of cosmetic charms, light, glossy lip color and a darkening of her lashes—and she smiled. Draco was momentarily silent, taking in the sight of her, her long, deep red hair trailing onto the shoulders of a golden-yellow blouse, down to her soft, grey wool skirt, knee high socks (out of fashion, Draco knew, if the rest of the girls at school were to be believed), and black flats.

"Do you have something to say?" Black asked, and Draco noted that he had the air of a boyfriend who is slightly offended by another man's assessment of his girlfriend.

"Yes, I do," Draco said, slightly annoyed.

"Well say it, then," James said.

"Oh, he can tell me when he comes to my class later," Lily said, standing and stepping from between James and Black. The Ravenclaw almost fell over when she moved, Draco noted with a certain amount of glee. Lily dusted the back of her robes off, and held a hand down to the Ravenclaw. "R… Romulus, would you walk with me?" she asked.

"Of course," the Ravenclaw—Romulus, apparently, and a good name that was, old, Draco knew—said, taking her hand but getting to his feet on his own. How many boys could a girl be with at a time, Draco thought, wonderingly. Romulus put Lily's hand on his arm, and they walked away.

Draco walked regally across the courtyard, away from James and Black, who were sending him looks that could have given him the Black Death if looks could kill.

"Thwarted again," Draco muttered, and made his way to class.

~`~

Harry sat in the library, pouring over every book about time travel he could lay his hands on. So far, the only means he had discovered was the time-turner, which was not so much a discovery, as he and Hermione had used one in their third year to prevent Sirius—Harry felt the familiar pain in his chest at the thought of his godfather—and Buckbeak the Hippogriff from being executed.

He sighed and rested his chin on his fist, reaching up with the other hand and removing his glasses before resting them on the table before him and rubbing his eyes. The sky outside the window was darkening—or so he thought. It was mostly obscured by curtains and by the shelves of books that stretched up and had so far yielded no answers as to how his mother had been brought forward through time.

He was rubbing his eyes when he heard the chair across the table from him scrape across the floor as someone pulled it out, and he heard it scraping again as someone sat and scooted forward. He opened his eyes to see a tired-looking Hermione sitting across from him. He frowned. She lived for looking things up in books—she loved it.

"Did you find anything?" He asked. She shook her head, her hair sliding back and forth across the shoulders of her black school robes. Her tie was undone, her shirt unbuttoned a bit, exposing a long line of pale skin disappearing down between her breasts, her jumper long forgotten in their room in the fading warmth of the summer.

"Only time turners," she said. "Every book about time travel, and all they have is bloody time turners."

"Yeah," Harry said. He was tired. So tired of looking, trying to find out how Lily, James, Remus, and Sirius had gotten to the present time.

"You should go back, get some sleep," Hermione said. She looked at him as she took a book from the top of Harry's stack and opened it.

"I can't sleep. I keep dreaming about him." Harry said.

"Voldemort?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "I keep seeing him, towering over my mother, over Lily, as we know her now, and raising his wand. I can hear my… I can hear James screaming her name, and Sirius is there too, lying on the floor, but he's alive, because I can see him breathing." Harry paused to take a breath, Hermione staring at him, her entire being focused on him and the telling of his dream. "I see Lupin, running toward her—my mom. Voldemort doesn't even look at him, and he smiles at Lily, this cold, evil smile—I can't even begin to describe it. Then it fades, and he opens his mouth…"

Harry stopped, swallowing.

"He doesn't… he can't…" Hermione said, her eyes wide, face pale.

"I wake up before… before he kills her." Harry said. Hermione reached across the table for him, but he pulled away. "I don't think he kills her. I think someone stops him. I know it in my heart, Hermione."

"I believe that you do," Hermione said, drawing her hands back and turning to the book, her cheeks burning from his pulling away. She began scanning the pages for a reference to any sort of spell that could bring a person through time.

They sat in silence for a long time, before Harry ever read a word of his book. Minutes that seemed like hours to both parties involved crept by as both Harry and Hermione fought down tears.

Time passed.

Harry jumped suddenly, realizing that they were still in the library, the last ones remaining, and even Madam Pince dozed behind her desk. He could feel something touching his leg, pulling his shoe off of his foot. He looked up at Hermione, who was looking back at him.

"Is that…" Harry began.

"My foot," Hermione said. "Read your book, Harry James," she said. She never once stopped looking at him, or he at her. Hermione's sock covered foot rubbed at his ankle.

Harry smiled at her, and stood up, forcing his foot back into his shoe. Hermione closed the book and slid it into her knapsack, which Harry took from her and hefted over his shoulder. She went to Madam Pince and asked if they could leave the books for the next day, Saturday. Madam Pince smiled at Hermione—Harry hadn't known the old librarian could do that—and nodded assent. Hermione turned to Harry and motioned him forward.

They left the library, and once away from the hawk-eyes of Madam Pince, Harry reached out and took Hermione's hand. They slowly made their way back to Gryffindor Tower through moon- and torch-lit corridors in silence, neither really feeling the need to speak. Or perhaps, if there was a need, neither having the strength.

The Fat Lady fixed their clasped hands with a disapproving glare as Hermione gave the password and the portrait swung wide to allow them access to the common room. A warm, comfortable heat closed over them as they went inside, enfolding them in happiness and a sense of belonging. They walked across the room, and Hermione made to pull away and go for the girls' dormitory. Harry went with her, stopping at the door.

"Goodnight," he said, his voice barely audible and more of a movement of lips meant only for the girl who stood in front of him.

"'Night," Hermione said, though her lips formed the word 'good' as well.

Harry leaned forward slowly, and kissed her, a brief, warm press of lips on lips, all romance and nothing to do with desire at all, just love, and comfort, and friendship underneath. Hermione closed her eyes, cherishing the moment, that kiss, that first, perfect kiss, then had to turn away, needing no words, nothing more, and going to bed with a smile on her lips.

~`~

Remus sat in the library, his face turned down toward his book. Across from him, Lily sighed and stretched.

"So that's it." Remus said, sitting back and looking at Lily. She nodded, yawning.

"All we have to do is wait. Something will happen… and when it does…" She snapped her fingers. "Finite."

"Finite," Remus repeated, and smiled. Suddenly Lily giggled.

"Don't look now, but here comes your girlfriend," Lily whispered. Remus started to turn. "Oooh, don't turn around, maybe she won't realize it's you."

"Why me?" Remus asked.

"Well, at least she's pretty. And mostly nice," Lily said. Remus stopped short of beating his head on the table as Cho Chang stepped up to the table.

"Excuse me, Romulus," she said, "but could you possibly help me with something?"

"What?" Remus asked. Cho didn't seem to notice the resigned tone in his voice.

Cho quickly explained a problem she was having with her Transfiguration homework. Remus shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Cho, but I'm not all that good at Transfiguration. I'm much, much better at Charms. That's why I'm training with Professor Flitwick," Remus said. "Did you ask someone from the Transfiguration department?"

"Well, I kind of came to you because you're our Head of House assistant," Cho said.

"Well…" Remus said, at a loss for words or more excuses to get Cho to go away. She had performed the spell perfectly in class that day, and Remus was sure that she was just asking to get him to give her his time.

"I can help you," Lily said, sliding in to save Remus. "I am training with McGonagall, you know."

"No," Cho said, making a face. "I'll just ask McGonagall tomorrow."

She turned and left the library. Lily managed to wait until she was out of sight before she burst into hysterical giggles.

"The look on her face!" She said. "Priceless!" Remus rolled his eyes. "Honestly. If I didn't know you better, I'd think that you weren't a male, much less one that is sixteen."

"Yeah well," Remus said, but didn't elaborate.

"Well what?" Cho's a pretty girl." Lily said. Then she grinned. "Unless there's someone else who captures the fancy of Remus Lupin."

"There is that," he said.

"Tell me?" Lily asked.

"Certainly not!" Remus said. "I'll just keep this a nice little secret."

Lily shook her head and laughed.

"Come on," She said, standing and shoving her books into her knapsack. "Let's go tell Sirius and James that we've figured it out."