I decided to post another chapter mainly for those who have reviewed for this story, I appreciate all comments given and the more I get the more likely I am to post another chapter sooner so keep that in mind as you read. Now...did I forget to mention that this is a time travel fic? Don't let that scare you off hmm?

Let me know what you think!

Mistress Slytherin

WARNINGS:

VIOLENCE

LANGUAGE

HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP

QUESTIONABLE MORALS

Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter 3

(Peter Bradley Adams- Angeles)

"I thought I would find you here." Hermione says quietly. "The world is at war, no place is safe, but when you need a hero just look to LondonTower and you'll find one." Hermione said making her way to his side. Harry snorted.

"No heroes here." He said inhaling deeply and watching the tip of his cigarette burn its way towards him. He exhaled slowly. "Just machines." He said softly.

"Harry…" She always starts like this, a hundred times, as though she wants to say something but can't. She never does, she just leaves it hanging there between them.

"Hermione." He can tell her, no one else. "We're losing." He says softly. "I feel like a coward for saying it but I know better than most when to duck out of a battle. My instincts are telling me that I won't outlive the next one." He says quietly. "My heart is too tired to care." He admits. "I don't want to kill any more. I don't want to fight any more; I haven't for a very long time now." He breathes letting his cigarette drop until he can't see its glow.

"Then go." She says. He looks at her in shock. He had expected her to be the one to force him to fight to the end, needed her to be if he was going to keep on.

"I can't." He says grimly. "Those that are left are looking to me to fight; those that died would have died in vain if I just opted out like this." He said shaking his head. He couldn't live with himself if he ran away like this, it would break him, he would rather die a martyr.

"You're already dead aren't you?" Hermione asks softly. He looks at her and wishes that he wouldn't have come to this. "Inside, you died a long time ago. I can see it in your eyes, the longing to be one of those poor sods in the casket." She snatches his fresh cigarette and takes a deep inhale before he gets the chance. She sputters and coughs like always. "Fucking cancer sticks." She chokes out. Harry smiles faintly.

"The wizarding world found a way to cure lung cancer over a hundred years ago." He says amused. She smacks his arm; it's the most life he's seen in her in maybe a year.

"If you could get away from all of this, if you could go to a place where this war doesn't exist Harry," She says suddenly serious. "I would want you to move on." She says with a strained smile. "Ron would agree, we would want you to live, to fall in love, to have the time to just sit and read a book somewhere…to find peace. We would never think of you as a coward, not after all that you've done for us, for the world." Harry winced and smiled wistfully.

"And you would want me to go back and finish my fifth year." He said smirking.

"Of course." She said without regret. "You might be sixteen going on seventeen but you could still pass as a fifth year if you wanted to." She said smirking.

"Let me guess, you would want me to be true to myself, to be a Slytherin like I apparently was supposed to be?" He said teasingly. Hermione lifted her chin.

"How else have you survived this long if it wasn't for your Slytherin tendencies?" She said smirking. Harry almost smiled, it didn't quite stick though, and they both knew it. Harry…what I'm trying to say is that no matter what Ron and I would have loved you, if it makes you happy, if it heals you do it." She said cupping his cheek. They stood there for a moment and Harry tried to figure out what this was all about but Hermione had become as cryptic as Dumbledore so he just shrugged it off. "Now come help me with something." She said dropping his cigarette off the edge.

Harry follows her without complaint, allows her to apparate them away. When they arrive he can admit that he's impressed, the entire room was covered in some text or another.

"Put this on." She says handing him a backpack similar to the ones they used in school but older, more out dated. He doesn't question it though; he's been her lab rat enough to know better than to ask questions. He wouldn't understand anyway. "Right stand here." She directed moving him to the center of the room. Metal cones snap around his feet and he glanced down in surprise before his arms are being pulled out and similar cones snap over them.

"Oi doesn't this look like that picture Da Vinci drew? Shouldn't I be naked?" He asked peering down at her as she stuck some sort of handle into a brass plate on the ground and began shifting it, pulling it around him. "Are those roman numerals?" He asked casually. "Wait…" His instincts were going haywire. "Mione?" He breathed. "This looks like-" But Hermione was standing, giving him a tight smile.

"If this works then there is a letter in your pack that you need to read." She says softly as she backs away to where a podium stands. Harry stares at her in stunned silence for a moment.

"Mione you can't do this, your messing with things that you shouldn't!" He warned.

"I know Harry. I love you Harry." She says setting her hands onto the podium. Suddenly everything is spinning. The floor, the walls the world, its spinning and spinning and he feels lightheaded and nauseous. "Good bye Harry." Her voice echoes in his mind and haunts him as he spins and spins and spins.

Time turner.