Hey folks. Sorry this took so long, the story itself is nearly finished but I've been away etc etc. As soon as I go back to uni I should have a more reliable internet source so hopefully updates will be quicker. Until then, I hope you like this, and please tell me what you think. Istalindar

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"I'm sorry, you know." Hermione asked as they pulled into Kings Cross. "I never asked you if this was what you wanted."

"He'll be alive." Harry said after a pause. "We're losing a friend, Hermione, but we've lost him either way. You're losing more…memories."

"I'll have never had them." Hermione said with a small smile. "Time's a funny thing, isn't it?" Harry smiled wryly. "What should we do now? There's a couple hours before the students arrive."

"Sleep." Harry advised, and she sighed.

"No chance." He smiled gently, holding out his hand.

"Come here, 'Mione." She went, scootching to sit beside him. He wrapped his arm around her, cradling her against his side. "Try and sleep." He whispered. "In the morning this will all be over."

"Seven years from now, you mean." Hermione argued, but she was already starting to doze.

"One step at a time." He said, and then they subsided into silence as Hermione slowly drifted off and Harry followed.

They were woken by the chatter of many young children, and they hastily sprung apart. Hermione retied her hair in its customary long plait down her back, and Harry yawned.

"You should stand guard while I talk to them." Hermione said. "They can't see you."

"I remember." Harry nodded. "What about clothes? We're going to look a bit odd, already in school robes." Hermione drew her wand and a few quick incantations later, they were both dressed in jeans, him with a t-shirt and her with a vest top and a zip up sweater. At her throat was a silver snake, set with emeralds and peridot that he recognised as Draco's. He didn't comment on it. "You know far too much." He chided. He hadn't recognised her spells at all.

"So would you if you listened in class." Hermione retorted quietly. "Look, there you are with Ron." He rose and joined her at the window, watching his younger self step through. He was struck by how short he was. "Bugger, there I am. And I'm coming this way!" She jerked quickly back from the window, and Harry watched as a much younger and nervous looking Hermione walked past. She glanced up at him, and he nodded down to her. The gesture seemed to bolster her confidence, as she straightened and raised her chin. He grinned.

Typical Hermione. Already showing the strength that would have her engaging this quest, seven years into the future.

"Have I gone?" Hermione asked, peering out the window. Harry nodded.

"Yeah. We better settle in, look like we're actually students. Or there'll be all sorts of questions."

"There will be anyway." Hermione shrugged. "We're going to have to juggle house allegiances. Gryffindors would know us, so we have to be Ravenclaws until some real Ravenclaws come along and we have to be Hufflepuff."

"And Slytherin? That's going to be fun." Harry rolled his eyes and Hermione smiled wryly.

"Draco was Slytherin." She reminded him. He smiled.

"Easy to forget though, wasn't it? Not like Zabini, the wanker. And Parkinson, draped over him as she was. Like a scarf."

"A heavy scarf." Hermione added, a little spitefully. They had always hated Zabini and Parkinson. Harry grinned.

"Here's one…oh wait, people already here." Harry and Hermione looked up and saw Fred, George and Lee standing in the doorway.

"Feel free." Hermione gestured, and the boys piled in.

"Thanks sweetheart." Lee grinned and she rolled her eyes. "What's your name?"

"Harriet." She answered, the first name that came to mind besides her own. "I'm a Ravenclaw."

"Really?" George leaned back and gave her an appraising look. The train started forward with a shudder, but they all ignored it.

"And a Seventh year." She added dryly. He shrugged and gave a cheeky grin.

"So?" She laughed.

He'd never changed.

She glanced up at Harry and tucked a curl behind her ear pointedly, and he hurriedly raised his hand to his fringe, arranging it to cover his scar.

"Who's you friend, love?" Fred leaned over. "I'm Fred."

"James." Harry answered. "Nice to meet you."

"Ravenclaw as well? Cool. Got anyone joining this year?" Harry shook his head. "My little bro is. Gonna be a nightmare." Hermione grinned. She remembered.

"Well, nice as this is, I'm going to see if I can find any of the others." Hermione said, standing. "Coming, James?"

"Yeah, we know you two are going to go make out." Lee said with a wide grin. Harry winked and with a hand on Hermione's back, guided her out the door.

"Let's go find you." Hermione said, heading down the train to where she first remembered seeing the boys, when she was on her quest for Neville's toad. Harry nodded. "And be careful with your scar. It could get confusing for the others."

"Either that or they'll think I'm a wannabe." Harry ginned and she rolled her eyes. "Here." She looked left and saw Harry and Ron, the much younger versions, talking animatedly in the compartment and eating sweets from a giant pile.

"I remember that. I didn't know what anything was so I bought some of everything. Ron was missing Agrippa."

"What?" Hermione was confused. Harry smiled, watching himself and Young Ron.

"Chocolate frogs had trading cards with wizards on them. Ron was missing Agrippa and another one. It was the first time I'd ever seen Dumbledore, on one of those cards." Hermione smiled, and touched Harry's shoulder briefly before slipping into the compartment. The two younger boys looked up.

"Hello?" Ron asked hesitantly. Hermione smiled.

"Hi Ron." She looked at Harry. "Harry."

"How did you know?" Young Harry asked. She smiled.

"I need you both to listen to me, because this is important. There's a boy called Draco Malfoy on this train, and under no circumstances are you to make friends with him."

"What?" Young Ron asked, confused. Hermione sighed.

"My name is Hermione." She said honestly. "I came from the future with a time turner. I came to warn you. In the future, Draco Malfoy gets very tangled in some very bad things, which result in people dying. People you care about. I'm telling you here and now, be wary of him. Be careful. He can be cruel and he'll do just about anything to get what he wants. Watch out for him."

"What happens?" Young Harry asked. She shook her head.

"I can't tell you, because it might change the future more than we can afford. Just…don't trust him, okay? He says one thing and means another. He's bad news." Harry and Ron nodded.

"My dad says the Malfoys are all bad news." Young Ron said thoughtfully. Hermione smiled at him, a little sadly.

"Then your father was right."

An urgent tapping broke into the conversation, and Hermione understood what it meant. Young Hermione was coming to ask about Neville's toad.

"I've got to go." Hermione said, rising. "Remember what I've said, okay? Things get bad, in the future. Don't let it happen. Don't trust Draco Malfoy." Harry nodded, looking serious.

"We won't." He said sincerely, and with another small, sad smile, Hermione slipped from the compartment, and Harry grabbed her hand and they ducked into another empty compartment barely in time. They could still hear Young Hermione though, loud, bossy and talking very fast.

"Did I really sound like that?" Hermione whispered. Harry grinned.

"Worse, because you were talking at us." He replied. "You scared the life out of me, saying you'd learnt all our books off by heart. I always wondered how you did it?" Hermione bit her lip.

"Photographic memory." She admitted. Harry stared.

"Seriously?" He demanded. She nodded, looking suddenly shy. "Seriously? You had a photographic memory all this time and let us think you were just an obsessive workaholic?"

"I was." Hermione defended. "It just helped is all. Especially once I was with Draco."

"I don't even want to know." Harry shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. She laughed.

"Listen." She said suddenly.

She could almost hear Ron's voice, and Harry finished along with him. "…Butter Mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." Harry grinned. "I knew from the beginning that it was bollocks." He said with a smile.

"The stuff I'd tried was in Latin. Not stupid rhymes like they have on TV." Hermione commented.

"Well, the twins did give it to him." Harry said. "So what do you expect?"

"Nothing more or less than what Ron got." Hermione nodded with a smile. "Do you think you'll click? That the old Hermione who warned them about Draco is the same person as the Young Hermione?"

"Not until the troll incident, at least." Harry said thoughtfully. "Until we knew you, we thought you were bossy, loud, annoying…"

"I'm all of those things."

"Yes, you are." He grinned at her expression. "But you're also sweet, thoughtful, compassionate and you care. It makes the other qualities somewhat easier to bear."

"Pig." She glared. He grinned back at her carelessly.

"Photographic memory." She huffed and folded her arms, and he grinned. "So we sit back and wait?" He asked, moving on. "Go to Dumbledore when we get back, but then what? Seven years. We can't stay in school because we're bound to be noticed. Where else can we go?"

"This is why I wanted to come alone." Hermione whispered. Harry stared at her, not understanding, and then suddenly it clicked. She'd come here to die. She had planned to come back alone, change time, and then die.

"Well, you didn't." He said briskly, stomach still turning from the realization of what she had planned to do. "So. What do we do?"

"I don't know, we'll just have to talk to Dumbledore about it." Hermione shrugged. "He's probably been thinking about it since we gave him the letter last night."

"True." Harry settled himself in. "You know, I never realised before how bloody long this trip is." Hermione grinned as she stretched out on the seats.

"That is why sleep is our friend." She replied, pillowing her head on her arms and closing her eyes. Harry watched her fall asleep, her breath evening out and her features, drawn from stress and grief, relaxing.

He hadn't considered that she'd come here to die. He'd thought she was just being stubborn, wanting to do everything by herself. And he'd ruined her plans by coming with her, and now she couldn't end her life the way she wanted. Not that it made a difference. In six and a half years would come the day that they had originally come back to 1997, and once that moment passed, they'd cease to exist as part of a future that had been changed.

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Harry and Hermione were heading down the train to get a better seat beside the doors so they could make a quick escape when they passed the compartment with Young Harry and Ron, and saw the silvery head of Young Draco in there with them. Harry glanced at Hermione, and saw her staring at the young version of her lover with tears in her eyes.

"Please work." She whispered. "Please let this work."

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

"Draco said that." Harry murmured, remembering.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks." Young Harry replied.

"I was politer than that." Harry remembered. "Not as cold. I think it's working."

"Shh." Hermione hissed, pressing herself against the wall of the corridor so other students could get past.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter." Young Draco said. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it'll rub off on you."

"He definitely didn't say that." Harry muttered. "Or I'd have decked him."

"It looks like you're about to." Hermione replied, eyes still on the scene in front of her.

"Say that again." Young Harry said dangerously, only it didn't sound very dangerous as his voice hadn't broken yet and it rather reminded Hermione of when they'd sucked helium at a Quidditch celebration party in Sixth year. She smirked and Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's not my fault my voice hasn't broken yet." He muttered sternly, which made her giggle. "Watch it." There were a couple of students, second years that Hermione and Harry recognised as the year above, running up and down the corridors, shouting and laughing. They couldn't hear what was being said in the compartment anymore.

The pair watched as the squabble threatened to turn into a fight until Scabbers intervened and Malfoy disappeared with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. They saw Young Hermione coming and they quickly turned their backs, but not before they nearly saw her get run over by one of the Second years.. Young Hermione ignored them and the second years completely, going into the compartment with Young Harry and Ron and started lecturing them before leaving the compartment and heading back up the corridor.

"That's not how it happened for you, is it?" Hermione asked softly. "With Draco, I mean." Harry shook his head.

"No. Draco made a speech about good and bad families, and I said something along the lines of 'I wouldn't know so I'm going by character', and he sent the other two away and spent the next half an hour trying to get into my good graces. Somewhere along the line his creeping turned into socializing and the three of us were friends before we knew what had happened. And you joined us after the troll incident."

"I remember." Hermione said softly. "Then it worked."

"Looks like." Harry said, watching out the window as the castle approached. "We're here."

"Be ready to make a run for it." Hermione advised. "If we get the front carriage and say we're saving seats, we might manage to get it to ourselves." Harry nodded and the two waited until the train had stopped before throwing open the door and heading quickly for the carriages, ignoring Hagrid's calls of 'Firs' years!'.

"I remember the boat ride." Hermione said as they climbed into the second carriage: the first was reserved for prefects and Head Students. "I nearly fell in." Harry grinned.

"Be like you. You were so clumsy till third year."

"I was a very failed ballerina as a child." Hermione replied, closing the carriage door and staring out the window. "We did it, Harry." She whispered. Harry nodded, knowing instantly what she was talking about.

"Yeah, we did. Regrets?"

"He'll be alive. Or at least this way he'll have a chance."

"Now we just need to worry about ourselves." Harry nodded. He reached over and took her hand. "It's going to be okay." She looked up at him, eyes shiny with tears but with a genuine smile on her lips.

"It already is."

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Draco sighed, regarding the box on his desk coolly, his arms folded across his chest. The Dark Mark still burned on his left arm, still rimmed with red from it's creation. His body was fighting it, but losing. The box on his desk was a gift from his father; today was his eighteenth birthday, and his inheritance was finally his. Not that it mattered that he'd been a legal adult for a year already, Malfoys just had to do things differently. So here he was, February of what would have been his Seventh year if he hadn't been on the run with Snape for killing Dumbledore.

That was still a sore memory, something he preferred not to think about. How he had faltered, how he had failed his Lord and Master. His body still remembered the pain he had suffered in punishment for his inability to complete his task. Finally he stepped forward, opening the box. And then he froze, staring at the snake pendant lying on the black velvet.

At the beginning of Sixth year, he had been searching for somewhere to practice for his task. He knew of the Room of Requirement of course, but he also knew that Potter knew, and he wanted to be well away from The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Him, his blood traitor friend and the mudblood who followed after them like a little puppy.

Draco hated puppies. But more to the point, he hated her. The Mudblood, the Know-It-All, the one who stood between him and his father's pride. Sometimes the thought of being in the same room with her made him want to be ill. Sometimes because she was a mudblood, and sometimes because she was particularly attractive and it annoyed him that he thought so. Annoyed him that she made him think so.

Anyway. Sixth year he was looking for somewhere he could practice in complete isolation, and he found what he ended up calling 'The Tower'. He'd found it one day while wandering the castle, and managed to open the door after dealing with the complicated lock system. But when he stepped inside, he found he could go no farther than the door extended into the room, which was about three feet. There was a shield around the dark, windowless room, which he couldn't see nor step beyond. And when he used his wand to light the room, he found something which shocked him.

The room was empty except for a large four poster bed. And lying on the bed, side by side, were two people. Asleep or dead, Draco couldn't tell. On the far side was a man, tall, with black hair. Draco couldn't see his features. Closest to him on the bed was a woman, dressed in long black robes. Her hair was tied back, and while one hand rested on her stomach, the other fell off the bed. From the hand hung a necklace, a fine silver chain tangled in her loose fingers and a snake pendant studded with emerald and peridot dangling freely, completely still. Her face was pale, but Draco thought he could see tear tracks on her cheeks.

He was guessing the whole room was in suspended animation, though for what purpose or for how long he couldn't even begin to guess. But something about them, her especially, drew him. She was beautiful, but with her eyes shut she was distant. She looked very sad, and there was something about the pendant in her hand, something familiar.

Well, now he knew. He'd seen the pendant at home. And in that context, he could remember. It was an heirloom, the kind a Malfoy gave to a lover they planned on spending the rest of their life with. So what it was doing hanging from the fingers of a woman locked in a tower in suspended animation he had no idea. But he wanted to find out.

Over the year, he had found himself going up to the tower more and more, opening the door and sitting there in the metre square gap, sometimes just thinking, sometimes talking to her as though she could hear him. She gave him strength; talking to her always made him felt better, and he was careful to always lock the door behind him, reasserting the lock system he had broken and even adding a few of his own to keep intruders away. This place was his, she was his. He was careful not to breathe a word, a hint, of it to anyone. And when there was the Deatheater attack at Hogwarts, he'd been afraid that her tower would be demolished, that she'd die. It was what was on his mind the whole attack, and when he faced Dumbledore, he'd been expecting the thought of her to strengthen him.

And she betrayed him.

She filled his mind, and it was as though he could hear her voice in his ear, clear as if she were standing behind him, but she wasn't saying 'take heart, be strong', the way he had always imagined her. Instead, she was pleading, crying 'Don't do this, Draco! You don't have to do this! Please!' As though it was she he faced on the tower, wand levelled at her heart. And her voice made him stammer, made him stumble. Until Snape came and killed Dumbledore for him. Draco heard her voice in his mind, a gasping, sobbing moan, and then there was nothing.

She hadn't 'said' a word since, and when he tried to imagine her voice, to conjure her words in his mind, there was nothing but silence. She had abandoned him. He'd tried to forget her.

But this…this he could never forget. And it would lock her in his mind as well.

The necklace from his father, a sign that he was worthy, that he could now choose a bride, or at least a lover. A small comfort while he was on the run, but it was a sign that Lucius trusted his judgement, which was a greater gift than any jewelled pendant.

But it was her jewelled pendant, and holding it in his hand made Draco feel wrong, as though he had stolen it from her. He set it back in the box but left it open, so the green gems still caught the light and winked it back at him.

He sighed. These thoughts got him nowhere and made him melancholy.

He took off his shirt, getting ready for bed, and was about to shuck off his trousers when a soft cough caught his attention. He whirled, expecting Snape, and instead found himself facing a tall, lanky man with red hair and freckles. Looked like a Blood-traitor Weasely, but not one he knew.

"Please don't get undressed any further. It's not something I want to see." The man said.

"Who the hell are you?" Draco demanded, wand drawn. He noticed the man's wand was also drawn, but held loosely at his side, as though he didn't fear the eighteen-year-old in front of him.

"Doesn't matter." The man replied. His blue gaze flicked to Draco's left arm. "I see you've become a Deatheater." He glanced at his watch. "And the moment's passed, and you're still alive. So they succeeded."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Draco asked angrily, grabbing a shirt and hastily pulling it on, concealing the Dark Mark on his arm. He was disinclined to be polite.

"In an alternate future, you died several hours ago. Two people returned to the past to change that future so you could live. They sacrificed a great deal in the hope that you would live. I merely came to ensure they succeeded."

"Alternate future? What the hell are you talking about?" Draco was confused and resorted to anger to cover it. A slight smile on the stranger's face showed Draco's failure. Draco scowled.

"In my reality, a reality which will cease to exist entirely in about four minutes, you were not the man you are now. You were in love with a woman, and had true friends. Because of your love for her, and hers for you, you died. She and one of your friends returned to the past to ensure you never fell in love with her, and thus avoided your fate. They've been trapped here."

"The woman in the Tower." Draco breathed. The man frowned, his eyes skimming the room and landed on the snake pendant.

"That necklace was a gift to her, on her birthday." He commented, nodding towards the jewellery. "I see you've not given it to anyone."

"I only received it today." Draco retorted. "From my father. It was my birthday."

"I know." The man nodded. "You died on your birthday, in my reality. It's what started this."

"The woman in the tower, she's the one I loved…in the other reality?" Draco asked, trying to get his head around it. "And she came back to save me, and then got trapped here? What about the man?"

"He came with her, to protect her and keep her company." The man answered. "She chose a lonely fate for herself in order to protect you. We all did."

"Why? Why would you do something like that for me?" Draco asked, confused.

"Because you were our friend, and because of that, you died. And because we were your friends, and when we saw a way for you to live, we took it." Draco nodded absently, though his mind was racing. The woman in the tower…she really had been his. And he hers.

"How did I die?" He asked. The man shrugged.

"I imagine it was Avada Kedavra. Your head was sent to her as a sign. So she knew whose fault your death was. It was unnecessary, though it did upset her sufficiently that she considered this somewhat insane plan. Which worked, as always."

"I refused to be a Deatheater, didn't I?" Draco breathed, and the man looked at him shrewdly before nodding. "I loved her so I said no and they killed me."

"That's what we think happened. So we came back to make sure you never were our friend, so you and her never fell in love." He smiled, then glanced at his watch. "Time's up. I'm glad you're still alive. Maybe you still have a chance of being what you were meant to be." He gestured vaguely at Draco's arm. "That…it's a tattoo. It isn't your heart, nor is it your mind. Don't forget." He turned and began to walk away down the corridor.

"Wait!" Draco ran after him, grabbing his sleeve to make him stop and turn. "What was her name? Tell me her name!"

"I promise you already know it." The man said solemnly. "And when you see her you'll know. Don't forget, you saw her when she was in her twenties, she's still young now."

"You mean she's alive? Here and now?"

"Of course she is." The man said with a soft laugh. "Why shouldn't she be? You are."

And he was suddenly gone, Draco's hand empty of shirt and sleeve.

And so started Draco Malfoy's obsession.

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