Hermione thought she would be sick the entire ride in the knight bus. Sirius and James looked excited about the opportunity to fight against this unseen evil, while Lily and Remus looked anxious. Hermione wondered how much more her mental state could possibly handle. She was a Gryffindor, she was brave, and until now she refused to let herself think about her lost, dead friends.
Until the end. They promised each other they would face Voldemort and they would fight the Deatheaters until the end. The end came alright, and Hermione found herself alone.
But she wasn't. She wasn't alone. She found an ally in the most unexpected place. She did what she promised she would never do back in her third year; she tampered with time. She tampered with time to the point that history will never be the same. No matter what she did from here on out, she had irrevocably changed the course of events, and by her side was not Ron nor Harry, it was Draco Malfoy.
She looked at Draco now. His side profile was beautiful in the dying light inside the knight bus. Hermione was the cleverest witch in her year, but she still could not understand the boy, man, that traumatized her in her new world, the one she enjoyed slapping in her third year, and the one that jeered at her as the bars slammed over her freedom when she was caught.
Draco shifted and caught Hermione's intent gaze. "Things will be okay," he said, somewhat uncomfortably.
Hermione sighed. "Will it?" She asked. "Can you promise that?"
"I never make a promise I cannot keep," Draco replied confidently. "I won't promise you everything will turn out the way you want it to, but considering what the alternative is, I will say that whatever happens now will be okay. I'm aiming for great, mind you, but I will be satisfied with okay."
Hermione managed a weak smile. Draco could joke. A nagging voice at the back of her mind still made her wonder if this was some huge stunt the deatheaters had planned to torture her. She wouldn't put it past the lot of them, but maybe, just maybe...Hermione trusted Draco, and she had to see this out until the end.
Hermione felt the sudden jerk and knew her Knightbus ride had come to an end. She looked at Draco, who nodded to her only once and she knew that this is where it stopped being a dream. She was screwing with the lives of those she knew best, but she knew this was the only way.
The bus deposited the lot of them at the end of a shabby walkway that led up to a shabbier house. The Burrow was smaller than Hermione remembered. Even from a distance she could tell that it would take the addition of many children before it would achieve the crooked glory Hermione was familiar with. She swallowed back an ill-concealed sob and resolutely started putting one foot in front of the other. Draco didn't say a word, nor did he touch her. This was her battle alone, he knew, and the others followed her just as silently.
The walk took all of five minutes and Hermione stopped to admire the small garden off the kitchen door that was not currently overrun with gnomes. She smiled in spite of herself and lifted her hand to the door.
Before she could knock, however, the door opened and behind it stood Dumbledore. He smiled down and silently beckoned them inside.
Hermione allowed herself a moment to be enveloped by the homey smell of the warm kitchen and closed her eyes. She could almost hear the twins cracking jokes at Ron's expense, while Harry and Ginny whispered to one another when they thought her brothers were not looking. They always were, but that's beside the point.
The sound of a throat clearing made Hermione open her eyes, and in front of her stood a 20-something Molly Weasley, not nearly as plump as Hermione remembered her, bouncing baby Bill on her hip.
Hermione couldn't mask the strangled sound that came from her throat and Molly reacted with understandable alarm. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and sprinted back out the door, nearly running Remus over in the process.
Molly looked on with a shocked expression. "Why on Earth did she look at me as though she saw a ghost? She directed the question at Lily.
Lily's eyes were full of tears as Hermione's reaction sunk in. "Because she has," she said softly.
Draco took this moment to steal away and slipped out the door after Hermione, who was doubled over the side of the walkway throwing up the contents of her last meal. He didn't say a word, only began to rhythmically rub her back until Hermione could only dry heave on her empty stomach.
Wiping her mouth she finally turned to face him. "I can't do this," she said in a hollow voice.
Draco cringed at her tone. "Don't say that," he told her softly. "You know you can."
"I can't!" Hermione's voice went slightly shrill and she began pulling at her hair. "That's Ron's mom. His mom! What the hell am I doing? How can I face these people with the knowledge I have? This isn't right, this is the reason time travel is monitored so closely. I can't do this, I can't tell her she's going to lose all her children...I-" Hermione abandoned tugging at her hair and instead covered her face with her hands, ashamed to fall to pieces like this in front of Draco Malfoy.
"Hermione," Draco gently took both of her hands in his and gently brought them to her sides, holding them firmly in place so she would look at him.
"Isn't that why you are here?" he asked. "Look at me, you're beginning to over-think things. You can't do that now, not now that we're so involved. You'll drive yourself crazy with all the what-ifs, think about the one what-if you've been granted. What if you can save them all? What would you do if you had the opportunity to save them all? You took it, what are you going to do with it?"
His voice came out slightly harsher than he had intended, but it was what Hermione needed. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw set.
"Make things right," Hermione said in a voice that was stronger than before. "Save lives, I can't ruin them anymore than they are-" She faltered. "I can't ruin their lives, they're dead. I'm going to save their lives."
Draco released the grip he had on her and stood back proudly as if to admire his work. "That's right. And you're going to start right now. I'm sure the others filled them in on the basics, now you can look to Dumbledore for more guidance. You're not in this alone, you know. They may be ghosts where we come from, but here they are our allies."
Hermione gave him a faltering smile. "You're right," she said as she reached out for his hand. "I'm not alone."
Draco and Hermione re-entered the small house and James met Draco's eye to affirm everything was alright. Draco gave him the tiniest of nods and James indicated that the meeting would take place in the living room.
Hermione knew the way by heart, but allowed James to direct her where to sit. The furniture, she noticed, had not changed in the years to come. The throw pillows looked new, while the pictures that adorned the walls and mantle were those from Molly and Arthur's recent wedding, along with about half a dozen pictures of baby Bill, all swaddled in the dated attire of the wizard world. In the years to come those pictures would be replaced and added to; toddlers, teenagers, and finally the children starting to have children of their own.
Hermione shook herself out of her morbid thoughts and turned her attention on those that joined her in the living room. Dumbledore was perched serenely on an ottoman, while Molly and Arthur took up residence on a tattered love seat, Bill sitting contentedly on Molly's lap. Molly still eyed Hermione wearily while Lily, James, and Remus sat on a mismatched couch with Sirius at their feet. McGonagall was seated formally in an overstuffed armchair and pointedly avoiding Hermione's gaze. Hermione tried not to feel hurt by the rebuff, and instead turned her gaze to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore looked around at the gathered individuals and told them he was expecting a few more guests, and they should be along shortly.
Just as he said that, a knock came at the door followed by the stooped-over figure of Hagrid. Hermione tensed and Draco quickly grabbed her hand, willing his calm into her through the touch. Hermione relaxed and looked at Hagrid in awe.
He was still huge, and standing up inside the Burrow was impossible for him. Instead he walked somewhat hunch-backed to the living room where he plopped himself down with a thud beside Sirius and gave the younger man a grin. Even sitting cross legged on the floor he was a head taller than all the others around him. His beard was not quite so wild, and Hermione guessed that he had yet to completely give up the task of taming both his beard and his hair. His face seemed to have fewer lines, but for Hermione it was hard to tell. He had his pink umbrella conspicuously concealed in one of his pockets on the inside of his coat, and his eyes twinkled with child-like curiosity at the odd gathering around him.
Moments after Hagrid sat down a group of three other people darkened the doorway and let themselves in when Molly beckoned to them. Hermione realized immediately she was looking at Frank and Alice Longbottom. Neville in the years to come was the spitting image of his round-faced mother, but had the coloring of his father. Hermione could see they were very much in love, and an engagement ring glittered from Alice's left hand.
Before she could bite right through her tongue, however, the identity of the final person who had entered behind them registered in Hermione's weary mind.
Alastor Moody, with both eyes, two fully functional legs, and missing so many of the scars she had grown accustomed to that Hermione knew beyond a doubt that no other appearance in this past would startle her like Moody's.
Hermione had never taken the time to wonder how old Moody was. From his gnarled look in her own time she thought he must have been at least as old as Hagrid, perhaps older. This Moody was closer to Molly and Arthur's age, missing a bit of the hardened confidence she had grown accustomed to. That scared her. If the most accomplished auror she knew was still nearly as green as herself, how could she depend on him to be in her corner?
Dumbledore cleared his throat and addressed the room.
"Of course you're all wondering what brings us here today," he said mildly. "In recent months we have all noticed dark activity, the works of anti-muggle extremists and their like. My friends here-" He gestured to Draco and Hermione. "They have come to me with extraordinary information and an unbelievable tale. Be that as it may, I seem to have taken the precaution of warning myself to believe what they say, and I must implore you all to do the same. Miss Granger?"
Hermione stiffened and looked imploringly at Draco. Draco met her eyes and squeezed her hand tightly before letting her go, ushering her accomplish what she came here to do.
Hermione stayed seated, but looked around the small, crowded room with a blush creeping up her cheeks. She looked around the room at all her dead loved ones and nearly panicked until her eyes locked on a familiar pair of bright green eyes. Hermione focused on Harry through his mother and began her tragic story once more.
(A/N) I apologize that the updates for this story are not timely whatsoever. This is more of a side project I work on when I can, and when inspiration strikes. I hope to do the story justice all the same :)