A/N: I put up a poll on my profile page to see what direction that readers would prefer to have this story go, but it's been a month and no one has bothered voting (or even looking at it, as far as I can tell), so I decided on my own. A month is a long time to go without updating, and I figured I'd put something up before the story started losing readers.

As always, reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 43: Back to the Drawing Board

"This isn't working." Ron huffed angrily. The three of us had been trying for weeks to make a Time-Turner, but nothing we did seemed to work. We were out of ideas, and worse, we were running out of time.

"The attacks are coming daily now." Luna whispered, her voice devoid of its usual softness. Her clear grey eyes, normally calm and insightful, were now filled with despair. Of the three of us, Luna's situation was the most dire. Her father, Xenophilius, was the editor of The Quibbler -- a Wizarding magazine that had recently taken to reporting accurate (and highly disturbing) information regarding to the activities of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. This of course, made him quite the target, and every day that passed with Voldemort as a threat brought her father closer to danger.

"What now?" Ron said, looking every bit as frustrated as I felt. "We've tried everything we can think of!"

"We go back to the original plan." I answered.

Ron stared at me like I'd grown another head. "You mean we just give up? How can you say that after all the work we've done? I mean, I know It looks… well… hopeless, but that doesn't mean we should just quit!"

I sighed tiredly. "Ron, you said yourself that it wasn't working, and I agree. Maybe we could do some more research and try again, and keep trying until it works, but that takes time, and Ron, we don't have time. Every day that Voldemort goes undefeated makes his success even more likely. Every day that he isn't stopped, people will die. Too many have died already, and I for one refuse to sit in a lab trying to 'undo' the travesty that is Voldemort while innocent lives are lost. Maybe one day when we have the time we'll find a way to make another Time-turner, but we don't have the luxury of that right now. We're at war, and the longer it takes to end it the less likely it will be that when it does end it'll be in our favor. Tell me – what's the point of winning a war if everything you've fought so hard to protect is only ashes in the end? We have to act now. If we can end this quickly, then the people we fight to protect might still come out of this alive. Right now, seeing that happen is more important than fixing the past so that Tom Riddle never became Voldemort."

"I agree with Harry," Luna stated, "We don't have time for the 'maybes' and 'what ifs'. Voldemort is a threat that needs to be stopped now, before the situation becomes more impossible than it already is."

Ron nodded solemnly. "I suppose you're right, but still… it was a good plan. I just wish it could have worked. My mum lost both her brothers in the first war – I'd give them back to her if I could."

"I know." I murmured. "There's nothing I want more than to have grown up with my own parents instead of the Dursleys."

"Yeah…"

Silence descended upon the three of us. Each of us had lost someone close to us – and was in danger of losing more – during Voldemort's first reign. It wasn't fair or right by any stretch of the imagination, but it had happened, and it took something out of us to give up looking for a way to get back what we'd lost. 'It's only for now.' I promised myself. 'I'll find a way to put things right after the war is over.'

Somehow, I knew that Ron and Luna had promised themselves the same.

Xxx

"Hey, Potter!"

I turned to see Draco Malfoy approaching, and smiled in astonishment. It still amazed me that we were working on the same side in this war.

"What are you smiling about?" he inquired once he caught up.

I only shook my head. "Nothing really. I just can't believe that we're friends of sorts. We used to hate each other."

The blonde scoffed. "We aren't friends," he corrected, "more like business partners. We don't actually like one another, we just have common interests. And I wouldn't go so far as to say that I hated you – more like despised."

"And there's a difference?" I asked, smirking.

"Of course there is," he answered calmly, "Hate implies that I wish you dead or tortured, and that I would be willing to commit either act myself. Despise, on the other hands, means that I only wish to see that self-satisfied smirk wiped off of your face when you realize that I've bested you."

"Ah," I nodded sagely, "I see. What was it you needed again? Besides the witty banter, of course."

The Slytherin rolled his eyes. "As if a Gryffindor could be witty. No, I came to tell you that I have another one for your collection, and am willing to part with it at your earliest convenience. "

"Thanks. Meet me in the Trophy Room after dinner, and I'll be happy to relieve you of it."

Draco nodded firmly and, turning down an adjoining corridor, disappeared from sight. I shook my head amused.

'Working with Draco Malfoy – I never thought I'd see the day!'