The Harry Potter universe and its characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below, I am in no way claiming ownership.

The pair span through time once more, moving forward by several months. Hermione knew that the demon had probably struck during the Battle of Hogwarts if Voldemort still brought Harry's body up to the school, but they had no way of knowing when. She had just hoped for the best and been imprecise with her winding of the dials. If necessary, they would adjust from there, in order to save her friend from the fate she had unknowingly released.

From the dark sanctuary of the forbidden forest, they could hear the screams of their fellow students and the destruction of Hogwarts. Lights flashed in the sky, clashes of red, orange and purple, but they barely penetrated the darkness of the trees. They were back at the Battle, but clearly separate, forced to the role of observers. Although she desperately wished they could intervene, Hermione knew they couldn't interfere with the natural course of events.

Silence suddenly struck and the lights began to dissipate, a hush settling over the school.

Hermione could feel her heart racing underneath Susan's robe, her breath frosting out in front of her face. Draco was similarly affected at returning to such a significant part of his past - he had been tasked with finding and reclaiming the diadem in the room of requirement. It had made him gratefully oblivious to the true horrors of the battle.

He released himself from the chain and took a few steps away from Hermione, to the edge of the tree line, but was unable to see the destruction which was unfolding on the other side of the castle. That was something to be thankful for, at least. Many of his nightmares centred around the Battle, the death of students and teachers which he felt partly responsible for. At least when he woke up from his dreams, he knew they were imagined. He didn't think he would be able to cope if his mind confirmed that what he'd imagined were real.

A twig snapped, metres away, the sound arcing out in the silence. Both himself and Hermione froze at the realisation they were not alone in the forest.

Draco crept across the pine needles to Hermione, moving an arm out to pull her behind him. His hand reached into his pocket to extract his wand, and he realised that Hermione was already gripping hers. Their eyes scanned the darkness, searching for the intruder.

'Does it hurt?' A voice whispered through the trees. Hermione latched onto the sound and spotted the figure, just a metre or so away. She tapped Draco on the shoulder so he might also identify the pale figure.

At least, for now, Harry was still alive. Hermione rushed through the events of that fateful night, trying to figure out where in the timeline they'd arrived.

Harry looked almost like a ghost, a terrified yet resigned expression on his face. He fiddled with something in his hand, then dropped it to the forest floor. Draco glanced back at her enquiringly. She had no time to respond.

The ground began to shake as if there were an earthquake, the roots of the trees around them cracking and splintering under the ground. Mounds of earth began to rise, trees tipping as they were ripped from their strongholds. Hermione clung to Draco, but Harry was not so lucky and fell to the forest floor, his head cracking against stone. The wind began to pick up in the trees, an eerie whistling through the pine needles which swirled around her unconscious friend. A dark figure began to materialise in the chaos, standing over his body.

The fight had been exhausting, with Hermione relying on every spell she knew to entrap the demon. Draco and her had made a fine team, their combined power almost insurmountable. It had been a relief to find out the truth of the history books she had read, those medieval texts which hinted at the spells necessary to conquer demons. It was a relief that her memory hadn't failed her, or she and Draco might have also died with Harry that night.

Not having any suitable containers for the evil spirit, they had been forced to rely on her trusty beaded bag. She had been disappointed that it would now be out of service. Draco had buried it under one of the ripped up trees in the forest. While Harry continued to lie unconscious, the pair had rectified the destruction which the demon had inflicted on the surrounding nature. The castle was still silent, the school tending to its injured before Harry would sacrifice himself for his fellow students.

It was at the burnt-out ruins of Hagrid's hut that Hermione had lifted the chain over Draco's head, connecting them once more to the time turner. His hair was a little singed, the pale blonde streaked with ash. His shirt was torn, the majority of the buttons having been cursed off by an errant spell. He'd never looked more tempting.

He leant forward, brushing some hair from her face to behind her ear. 'What now?'

'We have to go back and return those robes to Seamus and Susan, then go back to reality in the vanishing cupboard.' Draco smirked at her,

'I don't think Susan's going to need those robes any time soon.'

When they emerged from the vanishing cupboard in the Malfoy dungeons, everything appeared to be back the way it should be. The store room was dusty, its items untouched with the exception of the missing glass sphere. The paintings of the Malfoy family were propped against the wall, where Hermione had left them.

They walked hand-in-hand, giddy with pride on what they had achieved. They had restored the natural order. Draco had finally been the good guy.

Hermione was happy to see that the dungeons had no inmates as they moved through the final portion of the cellar, further confirming their return to the true reality. Draco released her hand, letting her move up the steps first.

Candles were burning in scones against the walls of the corridor, the warmth of the ground floor welcoming her back home. She could almost sing with happiness.

Draco had a better idea about how to celebrate, and kicking the basement door closed he moved forward, pressing her against the wall. Their lips met and her hands ran up his torso longingly, fingers caressing the ruined silk. He felt equally greedy, his hands finally roaming underneath the velvet of her dress. They settled on her hips, pulling her body closer to his. She responded in kind, pushing herself hard against him and forcing him against the opposite wall. She giggled in-between kisses as his hands began to skirt down, lifting her up to straddle his hips.

'Mama?'