"What will we do, Albus? Do we tell the students or shelter them until after Christmas Break?" Professor McGonagall was pacing the Headmaster's office, feeling shaken, her unnerved character evident in her unusually panicked Scottish voice. "I moved his bod-him, I moved him to a table in an empty Greenhouse for the time being. Have you contacted Lucius?"

While Minerva McGonagall was nervously rambling, Dumbledore was watching her curiously. "Sit down, Minerva."

"Sit down? Sit down?" Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore with disbelief. "Are you forgetting who this boy's father is, Albus? He will undoubtedly blame you for his son's death and terrorize the Board of Governors into shutting the school down, just like he did a few years ago. We cannot let Hogwarts close; it is growing far too dangerous for Muggleborns in the real world. So, please, Albus, don't ask me to 'sit down'."

At her snappish tone, Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Minerva," he tried again, "I appreciate your concern for the boy, but after ten minutes of your panicked rants, I still know nearly nothing about what happened to him."

Professor McGonagall nodded, regaining some of her usual self. "Filch heard a splash while patrolling. When he went outside to check, he saw nothing, but after a few minutes, Draco Malfoy rose to the surface of the water, dead. I guess that he threw himself off of the cliff and drowned."

Dumbledore nodded, thinking to himself, a bit of an impish glint in his eye. "Does Severus know? Considering that he is the head of his house, I would consider this news to be of great, ah, importance. ."

"No, Albus. I came straight here after discovering Mr Malfoy in the lake," she shook her head. "Shall I fetch him?"

"No," Dumbledore smiled a bit, "I'm afraid that won't be necessary."

"What do you mean?"

"Severus is dead."

Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore for a moment before speaking in a hushed tone. "With all due respect, sir, have you lost your mind?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Draco Malfoy, as you may have guessed, was forced to take the mark over the summer as punishment for Lucius' failure. Voldemort assigned him an impossible task. He was to kill me. Despite this, Severus made a vow to Narcissa Malfoy to protect her son. An Unbreakable Vow. Severus has failed and, as a result, is dead," Dumbledore finished, folding his hands together on his desk as he stared at Fawkes.

As if on cue, Fawkes burst into flames.

"Yes, Fawkes, that is exactly what we need," Dumbledore observed almost playfully, "A redo."

He turned to face Professor McGonagall, his face devoid of the playful manner of which he spoke to Fawkes in.

"Minerva, I need to speak to Miss Granger. Would you go fetch her for me?"

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened a fraction of an inch with obvious confusion before she turned on her heel, exiting the room quickly.

Minutes later, the Head of Gryffindor reappeared with Hermione, who was obviously fresh out of bed.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore addressed her kindly, "Do sit down; I am sure you are very tired. Terribly sorry for the rather horrid timing, but this is important."

Hermione scratched the back of her neck nervously after taking a seat in front of the Headmaster. "No bother at all, sir. Was there something I can help with?"

"Minerva," Dumbledore said to Professor McGonagall, clearly dismissing her. She nodded curtly and left the room, offering a sympathetic nod to Hermione before exiting.

Dumbledore waited for her to leave completely before directing his attention back at Hermione. "Miss Granger, this is a rather...fragile topic and it is one of the utmost secrecy. However, as your track record shows, you will assuredly be able to handle to the ferocity of it," he paused to sigh lightly. "Draco Malfoy is dead. He killed himself a mere hour ago," Dumbledore stopped to watch Hermione's reaction.

Hermione felt herself freeze. Draco Malfoy...dead. The gears in her brain began to turn, abandoning her sleepy stupor completely. It seemed surreal, yet made clear sense. The signs of his depression were all there; it would have been incredibly obvious if she had known to look for it. Hermione pitied him. What a horrid life he must have lived.

"Professor Severus Snape is also deceased," Hermione did not comment, only frowned, "and this is where you come in."

"If you don't mind, Professor, I'd like to interrupt. Before you tell me my role in this, I think you should consider my..." she chose her words slowly, "relationship with Draco Malfoy carefully."

"I am well aware of your constant bickering with the boy. Your mutual contempt for one another did not go unnoticed by the staff. Despite this, I do not trust anyone else to handle this subject with the maturity and grace that you would. As Sun Tzu once said, 'Know yourself, know your enemies, and you shall win a hundred battles without loss.'"

"But sir, I don't believe I know Malfoy at all," Hermione frowned a bit. "And I am feeling quite unclear of what you want me to do; nothing can be done if he is truly dead."

"I am sure you know Mr Malfoy much more than you realize. What did he eat for breakfast?"

Hermione was confused by his random question but answered, nonetheless, "Toast and black tea."

Feeling disturbed by her knowledge of the obtuse information, she shook her head.

Dumbledore raised his brow as if to say, 'I told you so'. "One notices small details over time. After all, you've known Mr Malfoy since you were eleven."

Dumbledore grinned to himself as he continued, "And to answer the second part of your question, nothing can be done now, but perhaps a few months ago, this could have been prevented."

Hermione leaned forward, her curiosity getting the best of her, "What do you propose? A time-turner?"

Dumbledore chuckled a bit, "No, that would be too complicated to orchestrate, what with two different Hermione's running around for months on end. I am suggesting something else. An ancient spell that will place your conscience into your past body."

"Surely you don't mean Tempus Itinerantur? Was that spell not banned in 1294 due to the extreme side effects when performed incorrectly?" Hermione breathed out, her academic self beginning to shine through.

"I'm surprised you know of Tempus Itinerantur. But, yes, that is the spell I was thinking of," Dumbledore nodded in approval.

Hermione blushed, "I read about it in Fourth Year for fun."

"Without knowledge action is useless and knowledge without action is futile," Dumbledore quoted, a small smile on his face.

"Yes, well, as intriguing as Tempus Itinerantur is, I don't understand why we would risk so much for Draco Malfoy. I mean, when wrongly cast, it can leave the caster and the victim stuck in a serious time loop forever. Certainly, he wasn't so valuable to the Order."

"Perhaps not," Dumbledore shook his head, "But Severus Snape was. Without someone inside of the Inner Circle, Voldemort will win. Professor Snape cannot live if Mr Malfoy dies, which is why I am asking you to go back to the beginning of the year and help him. You need to save him-for the Order, if not for him."

"But, sir, he would definitely think that I am up to something if I just start talking to him."

"Sometimes, Miss Granger, the smallest step forward is the largest leap in the right direction. Now, I am not going to go into explicit detail, but I am going to tell you something that very few know. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater and he was granted an impossible task as a result of his father's failures as a servant to Voldemort. Snape is a spy for the Order and he has taken an Unbreakable Vow to protect Mr Malfoy."

Dumbledore paused to glance at Hermione, who was following along with a concentrated expression. "It is of utmost importance that you do not tell anyone this information. I can trust that you will save Mr Malfoy without blowing the Order's cover, correct?"

"Of course, sir," Hermione nodded. She would do anything to stop Voldemort, even if she had to befriend Draco Malfoy.

"Then I believe it is time to cast the spell. Stand still," Dumbledore instructed kindly. "Now remember, on your mission you cannot tell anyone you come from the future. Messing with the past is a dangerous road to go down. Do not tell anyone, including Mr Potter or Mr Weasley, about Mr Malfoy or Professor Snape. And remember, if all goes well, you will be back to normal by the time you pass over the time we cast the spell. Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded, gripping her wand. This was her first Order assignment, and she wasn't about to muck it up. "Of course, sir."

Pointing his wand at her, he mumbled, "Tempus Itinerantur."

The blue light of the forbidden spell was the last she saw before darkness consumed her.

...

Opening her eyes, Hermione peered around, observing her surroundings carefully. A steady rocking motion told her that she was on a train.

But why?

Suddenly, it all came back to her. Draco. Snape. Dumbledore. Tempus Itinerantur.

Sitting up, Hermione realized that she was on the Hogwarts Express.

"Wotcher, Hermione, Harry, Ron!" Luna called jovially as she stopped by her compartment. "Would anyone like to buy a Quibbler?"

About to comment on the whimsical magazine's many inaccuracies, Hermione stopped herself. The Quibbler would have the date, right? Hermione needed to make sure that the spell took her to the correct year.

"Sure, Luna," Hermione smiled, handing her a few sickles.

"Make sure to read about the Wollyburglers on page 23!" Luna said, walking away with a smile.

"Hermione!" Ron scolded after Luna was out of earshot. "You hate the Quibbler; why waste sickles on it?"

Hermione shot him a small glare. "I'm trying to expand my friendship with Luna, Ronald, and understanding what she is talking about would help."

That was a lie. She really just needed the date, but felt it exposing to ask what year it was.

September 1, 1996.

Good. Dumbledore, unsurprisingly, performed the spell perfectly.

Glancing at Harry, Hermione realized why he was being so quiet. He was thinking about Malfoy and was about to leave the compartment to spy on him, just as he did three months ago.

This is very strong Deja Vu, Hermione thought to herself.

"Say, Ron, Harry," Hermione said quickly, trying to steer him away from pestering Malfoy. "Fancy a walk?"

"I'm good," Ron said, popping the last of a cauldron cake into his mouth and throwing the garbage into the growing pile of candy wrappers next to him.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

"No, I think I'll stay here," he said quietly, staring out the window.

"Okay," Hermione smiled lightly, "Stay out of trouble, yeah? I don't want to deal with either of you getting into childish fights with Malfoy or anything."

Closing the door, Hermione frowned. Now, where was she supposed to go? The whole proposal of a walk was to make sure Harry didn't talk to Malfoy but if Harry stayed then the only way to confirm that would be to watch Malfoy herself.

And, chances are, if Malfoy noticed Harry wearing an invisibility cloak, he'd undoubtedly notice Hermione wearing her school cloak.

"Shit," she swore to herself. This seemed to be much harder than Dumbledore had made it out to be. But that was expected. Malfoy and she were still enemies, even if he was depressed.

She would just have to say she was patrolling on special request from McGonagall if anyone from Slytherin asked and spent extra time in their compartment.

Summoning all of her Gryffindor bravery, Hermione marched toward Slytherin's compartment.

"Oh, look, the little Mudblood was finally dumped by her two loser boyfriends. So sad, hm, Blaise?" Pansy Parkinson taunted with a snigger.

Blaise Zabini said nothing, just continued staring straight ahead with a deepening scowl twisting his dark face.

"Bugger off, Parkinson," Hermione frowned.

"I think we could say the same to you, Granger."

Turning around, Hermione saw Draco Malfoy glaring at her, his arms crossed menacingly in his annoyingly impeccable black suit.

"What are you doing in a Slytherin compartment?" he stepped toward her with a growl.

Using all her self control not to sneer back, she answered, hopefully in a pleasant voice, "Patrols. McGonagall has asked me to do extra on the train, you know, as a prefect."

"Oh, really? Then why wasn't I asked to do anything, you know, as a prefect?" he asked in a mocking tone.

Hermione mentally slapped herself for forgetting that he was a prefect as well, "I'm not sure; perhaps she didn't trust a ferret, like yourself, to be running amuck on the train."

"I don't bloody care, just leave us alone, Mudblood."

Hermione took a deep breath and regained her composure. "Please refrain from using that word, or I, as a prefect, will have to dock house points. Now, I hope you all have a pleasant day and stop pestering me. Goodbye."

Purposely running into him as she passed, Hermione resisted the urge to turn around and slap him. She had to remember her purpose for doing this. She was being kind for the Order. This mission was hardly anything compared to some of the other assignments that members have had before her. Hell, the Longbottoms were tortured to insanity for the Order.

Hermione could surely handle befriending Draco Malfoy.

Right?