That was one war started. Hermione would soon be in another. Once dismissed, she rushed right up to the Gryffindor girls' bedroom. Sunlight was painting the walls but the soon to be seventeen year old was shivering. Gripping her arms until little white finger marks appeared, a shiver bit at her spine.

Draco was beyond tears, left to that bleak place in his mind where pain can have no expression, where all emotion and feeling have been turned off to protect the fragile mentality. He knew that there was nothing shameful in his stoic manner, but a part of him felt guilty for not crying more—as though all his hours of crying had not been enough. In his mind, it wasn't enough. Many in his position would cry for days on end when being told that once he was seventeen, he would join them. And then there was the sheer, utter unadulterated relief that he could avoid his parents completely and utterly for a year. It wasn't with the best of company, but even at eleven years old he knew he couldn't be friends with the Granger girl. If he had extended his hand to her as he had done Potter, he would have just signed his own contract to his very own execution.

They were both about to fall in headfirst, wondering how to break it to their loved ones. Hermione soon stood up carefully and let a shaky breath be born from her bitten lips. She cautiously composed a letter to her parents, and then began to walk towards the owlery.

Draco on the other hand, wrote a very terse and short letter saying he was on a mission with 'a girl I don't know at all' to his father, and a separate letter to his mother who he cared a great deal more for and would be more personal with. She was his confidant. "Dumbledore has suggested that I and the Granger girl try out the new Time Turners, we're going to Munich in Germany I believe, in the 1940s. She's a curious girl but I don't know how it's going to turn out at all. Don't let father hurt you. Take care."

Then, to tell their friends. Draco and Hermione ended up ultimately crashing into each other at lunch time in the Great Hall. He nodded over at Ron, who was viciously tearing a chicken leg apart. "When redheads attack!"

Hermione edged away from the tall boy with haste; why was he even talking to her? Today was a day where she just did not want to summon up the willpower to even smile. It would take more than just a little while to adjust to this new arrangement. Speaking to each other in civilised tones.

Words pour from her mouth, stinging him like acid. So different from before, from the sweet words she said to her best friends. His face scrunches up in a momentary scowl, and then Draco stalks away to his own table as she slides onto her bench, where Ron was still gnashing at the chicken and Harry was peeling apart a ham sandwich to check no mustard was in.

"Wath was tha' bou' 'Mione?" Ron mumbles through his food.

"What was what about? Draco? Oh, yeah, I'll tell you about that once you've eaten so you don't bloody choke. You've got free periods next, yes? Come to the common room with me after."

Then they looked up.

"Are you dating Malfoy?"
"Oh my god, you're pregnant aren't you!"

"Did he use Imperio? We'll get you to Madam Pomfrey—"

"Guys, guys. No. I am not dating Draco, nor am I with child and he hasn't attempted to use the Imperius curse on me for anything at all."

The two boys perceived her to be completely aware of what she was saying and took her word for it. They then proceeded to eat their lunch far too fast whilst Hermione slowly chewed her way through a cheese sandwich. Ron then leapt up and took her by the wrist. "Come on then!"

"Honestly Ronald, there's no need to rush-" she replied shakily. There was a pang in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. It had just fully hit her. She was going to spend a year working with Draco Malfoy and she was ready to guess she wouldn't be able to contact her best friends. And what about her schoolwork? Hermione supposed she'd have to take folders and files with her. It was the only way, she could hardly slip up now she was going to begin studying for her NEWTS, after only just receiving the top OWL results. All O's, obviously.

And yet, she had just been plonked down on a cushy red sofa, expected to break this news.

She swallowed, as the words ran away from her mind. They didn't want to present themselves. Hermione mentally held a couple of phrases in a tight fist, and threw them in the general direction of the boys.

"I've got a project to do. All year. You won't be able to…see me, as such."

Harry's brow furrowed. Even his scar crumpled in confusion. "What?"

"There's new Time Turners…I'm going to travel to the 1940's. Nazi Germany. I'm the brightest female in our year and I'll be with the brightest male, too. For the year."

"Nazi what?" Ron looked bewildered, just as Harry's visage creased with fretfulness.

"Who might that be? It'll be so dangerous."
"Ron, basically there was a Muggle war and a man called Hitler, a bit like Voldemort. Harry'll explain. And well…it's Draco Malfoy."

If Ronald had been consuming anything, it would have been spat straight out, whereas Harry seemed to tense. "No."
"Yes, Harry. You can't change anything, I'm essentially going to test the Time Turners with him and be back next year." The words to her sounded foreign.

"But Malfoy's a complete dickhead!" Ron expostulated. The Chosen One nodded furiously in agreement. "What if he kills you, Hermione? What then? His father is a Death Eater."

An argument was brewing. "In case you hadn't noticed, you two, his father is locked up in Azkaban, and somehow I don't think he'll kill me, because what will everyone say when he returns without me? It's stupid and far too dangerous. You've got to like it or lump it."

"Well if the bastard isn't going to murder you, he'll make your little mission unbearable. You hate each other, remember?" Ron was intent on drumming it into her head, as if she didn't already know.

"For goodness' sake, hate and kill isn't the same thing. If that were true, I'd have killed that mashed potato long ago..."

The two looked at the girl. "What? I hate mashed potato."

Over the next couple of days, Hermione, Ron and Harry's moods fluctuated grandly. Whilst Hermione was scribbling extensive notes and packing 1940's female clothing, Ron and Harry sat in Potions, or Transfiguration, or Charms. Those were the peaceful hours. Then they'd all retreat to the common room, or out on the grounds if it was decent weather. Then it was a mess of hugs and "How are we going to manage with our homework?" a jab in the side, a roll of the pupils and a genuine, "I don't know how we'll manage."

Then the tables would turn, a comment would be taken the wrong way and then it was, "You're being completely unfair! It's not my fault that I've been chosen along with Malfoy!"

"He's a complete git! You should complain to Dumbledore. For someone who's bright, you're shockingly unintelligent sometimes. Why do we even bother with you?"

"Oh? You think I let Dumbledore and that blond bigot walk over me like a doormat? I protested, you know!"

"Ha! Remember that punch in third year? You used to be brave, now you're working with the enemy. Now you're different. The old Hermione is dead to us."

"Ron! How could you say that? How dare you! You're a right foul git, you know that?"

"Guys…" Harry would attempt to step in here. To no avail.
"No, both of you can stay away from me!" Hermione would shriek at them, eyes wild, and hands shaking.

Tea would be a sordid affair, plenty of ignoring each other, Hermione sitting in between Dean and Seamus. Dean was always calm and Seamus making jokes but patting her arm if she was close to tears. Once, she stole a glance towards the Slytherin table, where Pansy looked positively outraged, Blaise tense but trying to stay composed. Draco would stare resolutely at his meal which he would usually only eat half of, though Blaise would sometimes say, "Come on mate, you need to eat."

Like a slap in the face, it was time to go. A packed suitcase, her wand safely stowed away and dressed in a plain dress, black tights and laced up shoes, she clambered up to Dumbledore's study after a difficult (well, nobody said it was easy to part) goodbye with Ron and Harry. Malfoy was already there, in a white shirt and grey trousers. "Very Aryan." The girl shakily commented as Dumbledore wrapped the Time Turner around them. He rolled his eyes and clenched his mouth as they were forced to press themselves together.

Gravely, their headmaster says, "Make your way to the house you'll be staying in as soon as possible. I believe it's rather cold. The two other people there are a wizard and witch also, so you can perform magic with them. Last of all, the best of British luck."