A/N Here's chapter 5, I hope you enjoy it :) please leave me reviews, good/bad/other :D
"No...no, this isn't right," Hermione looked around frantically. "We shouldn't be here. We should be back. Oh God, anywhere but here," she looked at Malfoy. "Why are we here?"
"How should I know?" he snapped.
"This is your house, your awful house," her eyes were now transfixed on the floor, in the middle of the room. The small patch of wood that held so many memories, ones that had haunted Hermione long after the war had finished. She didn't want to be there re-living them.
"Just because it's my house doesn't mean I-" Malfoy paused. "Shhh, listen, do you hear that?" He pressed his finger to his lips.
Voices were approaching, footsteps too. Hermione and Draco turned their heads to the source; it was coming from behind them. The large oak doors swung open suddenly and three very familiar people entered the room.
"So, darling," Narcissa Malfoy was talking to a very young looking Draco, "are you more excited for starting at Hogwarts now that we've got all of your school things?"
"Of course he is," Lucius spoke before Malfoy had a chance to form an answer. He ushered his son further into the room and sat him down at the edge of a deep red chaise longue. He stood over Malfoy, a stern expression on his face. "Now, we need to speak about your friends at school. I can't have you associating with riff raff; mudbloods, blood traitors and the like. Of course you already know Pansy, Blaise and Theo, they're perfectly acceptable to be seen with. Weasley's are absolutely out of bounds, Arthur Weasley might as well be a muggle, no doubt his children will be the same. Anyone else you need to speak with me about, understand?"
Hermione stared at Lucius in disgust; how could he possibly dictate who his son could and couldn't be friends with? Malfoy grabbed her arm, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"We're not watching this. Come on," he tried to pull her toward the door his younger self had just entered.
Lucius was now speaking to his son about the staff at Hogwarts. Intrigued, Hermione tugged her arm out of Draco's grasp and continued to watch and listen.
"Of course Severus is a good friend of this family, and he will be your head of house so make sure you stay on his good side. He'll look after you though, he always does look after the superior house," Lucius laughed a cold, humourless laugh. "Dumbledore is a crackpot; a fool and a muggle-lover. Nevertheless you don't want to upset him, for some reason the wizarding world kisses the ground he walks on. Not to mention he has good contacts in the Ministry."
"I know, father, I know. You've told me a hundred times," young Malfoy replied miserably, eyes on the floor. Hermione couldn't help but be shocked at the child standing before her; he was so different to the Draco Malfoy she knew at that age. He was arrogant, self-assured and over-confident. The boy she could see now was scared and timid. Hermione felt incredibly unsettled but she couldn't tear her eyes away.
"Less of your cheek boy," Lucius scolded. "You'll listen to me a hundred times more if that's what it takes to sink in. Now, one last thing before you get out of my sight: Potter. He'll be starting school with you. I want you to speak with him, get close to him if you must. I want to know how he was able to defeat the Dark Lord at such an age. It is vital that I find out. Do you understand?"
"Yes, father."
"Good, now leave your mother and I in peace. Leave your bags, I'll have Dobby bring them up, once he's done shutting his ears in the oven door," he laughed again.
"Oh, I can't listen to this anymore," Hermione turned to find Malfoy, to demand he help her find a way out, but once more found herself alone.
Eleven year old Malfoy walked past her and headed to the door he had entered not long ago. Hermione decided following him rather than staying in the drawing room with Lucius was the lesser of two evils so set off behind him.
He led her up a grand staircase, dark oak banisters with deep red carpet. If it didn't belong to the Malfoy's Hermione would have thought it beautiful. Portraits lined the walls up the stairs, Hermione glanced at some of the names; they seemed to all be deceased members of the Malfoy family.
At the top of the stairs, she followed Malfoy down a long corridor, decorated with suits of armour, more pictures and various weaponry on the walls. About a third of the way down the hall he went into a room on the left hand side. Not sure if she would be able to open the door once Malfoy closed it behind him, Hermione had to dart forward and enter alongside.
"Oh, brilliant," an unexpected voice made Hermione jump. Malfoy was sitting on a large four-poster bed in the centre of the room, he got up just as his younger self sat down mere inches from where he had just been. The sheets, along with most of the decor in the room, were bottle green. The Slytherin house logo was painted on one of the walls and many of the books on the shelf were about the founder of the house and his part in history.
"Thanks for leaving me," Hermione said to Malfoy indignantly.
"I wanted to leave, you wouldn't come with me," he replied simply.
"Oh, well that's mature. We're both stuck in whatever this is so we both need to stick together and figure how on earth we get out of it."
"Look, Granger," said Malfoy, "I don't disagree. I want to get out of this just as much as you, but I'm not going to sit there and watch me being a prat and watch my father being a tyrant. That isn't my life anymore."
A smart retort on the tip of Hermione's tongue was interrupted by the all too familiar pulling sensation in the pit of her stomach. One look at Malfoy told her that he was experiencing it too; both of his hands were on his abdomen. The bedroom scene dissolved and Hermione closed her eyes, scared of finding out where they were this time.
A voice spoke . "Ah. Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy I presume?"
Hermione opened her eyes. They were standing in the department of mysteries once more, in the same room, though this time it was much better lit. The voice had come from a rather short man who was standing before them. He had pale skin, dark hair and was wearing a rather eccentric set of purple robes.
"My name is Ernie Portree, I'm an unspeakable. Tell me, how was your trip?"