Harry Potter and the related characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. No malicious intent or ill will is meant by using those characters and events in this fictional work.
"You think you've figure it out, have you?" Malfoy asked as he fired yellowed sparks at bewitched paper airplanes, entertaining himself as his friends pored over spell-books and notepads.
Hermione wiped her forehead and dropped her head into an open book, grumbling something unintelligible. At that moment, all of Draco's paper planes burst into flames and fell to the ground, forming small piles of ash.
"Rude," he teased, hopping out of the armchair and walking over to her and Harry. He rested one arm on her back and the other over Harry's shoulders. "Listen, you two, if this is proving to be too much, we can just completely..."
"She's figured it out," Harry said then, nodding once. He looked at Hermione and reached for her, smiling softly as his fingers toyed with her curls. "It just took a lot out of her, is all." He leaned closer to her and kissed her cheek. "Can you do this?"
She nodded, her forehead wrinkling the pages of the book as it moved. She sighed and sat up straight, turned to look over her shoulder at the two frozen Weasleys, and scooted backward. Her chair scraped along the hardwood as Draco's arm fell away from her back. She stood up, tugged on her white button-down shirt, and she readied her wand. Taking slow, steady steps, she aimed the twisted-vine-ensnared wand directly at the crown of Ron's head and began to speak the incantation. Slowly, a spiral of misty green smoke swirled outward from the tip of her wand and coiled around Ron's head and neck.
Pearly white memories began to escape from his ears, his nostrils, his temples, and they entangled themselves in the air, pulling apart and knotting together, forming loops and fraying at the ends. When they were satisfied with their new formations and positions, they inched their way back into his brain, settled down, and the smoke dissipated. Hermione backed up instinctively into Harry, who wrapped his arms around her and, together, they waited.
Draco looked at Harry, who nodded, and he raised his white, pointy wand and fired two silent spells, one aimed for Ron and the other for Ginny.
"...think Mum even invited him home this year," Ginny said, as if she hadn't been frozen mid-sentence for the last four hours. "Its you two, the rest of us, Bill and Fleur, of course, and you, Draco."
Hermione blinked. She had to take a moment to remember what Ginny had been saying before Draco suspended her senses. When it hit her, she said, "Right! Yes! Christmas, wonderful, I'll make some pasties." She eyed Ron, who was coming to, and gripped Harry's wrists.
Malfoy took a threatening step and steadied his wand, just in case.
Ron moaned, using one hand to lift himself a quarter's-way off the floor. "What...what the..." he blinked and looked up. "Why the bloody hell am I in the Gryffindor common room?"
"Was hoping you'd tell us," Ginny said, her memories apparently had contorted themselves to agree with Ron's. "Only thing I can imagine is you're still hot for Hermione and came up here to try to win her over, or something."
"Fat chance of that," Herrmione scoffed, pulling Harry's arms further around her. Her head tilted then, as she realized something else had changed after her spell took effect. "Harry, look!" she whispered. "His robes."
Harry's eyes zoomed to the patchwork crest adorning Ron's school robes, and where there once was a proud and noble lion, there was now a coiled, surly-eyed serpent. He coughed a bit, hiding his gasp, and searched over Draco's clothes. Stifling a laugh, he elbowed Malfoy in the ribs. "Sorry to tell you, mate, but look down at your shirt."
Confused, Draco narrowed his eyes and brushed him off, but in doing so, did manage to catch sight of the Gryffindor Quidditch tee-shirt he was wearing. "What...what have you..." he raised one eyebrow and glared hard at Hermione. "Woman, what the hell did you do?" he seethed.
Ron, having finally risen to his feet, brushed himself off and sneered at the three friends in the corner of the common room. "Not likely, Potter," he growled. "I may have fancied her once-upon-a-time, but if this war taught me anything, it's that twits like you, and filthy-little Mudbloods like her, can't be trusted." He gave a dramatic twirl of his robes and left, muttering something under his breath.
"Sorry," Ginny said, meaning it, knowing the sensitivity surrounding that particular insult. She ran out of the common room after her brother, yelling about taking points off Slytherin for being out of bounds and out of bed after hours.
"I didn't...I never meant to change...but how did it...just then, I..." Hermione babbled, her eyes wide. "It all changed right before our eyes, and that's never happened before. How did that happen? Why did that all just happen?"
"No time to worry about that now," Malfoy said, "We have to meet Sirius outside. It's time." He looked around the common room one last time, grabbed the top-shaped wooden ball off of the desk, and said, "We have to go home."
Hermione gave a Harry a longing look, telling him once again she'd relive the moments over again, differently or the same, if it came down to it, and part of her had actually wanted to do so.
He shook his head and gave her hands a squeeze. "No," he whispered, his eyes running the length of her body. "There'd be far too many questions." He gave a light tug on her hands and drew her out of the common room, followed by Malfoy. Their brisk walk turned into a jog, and then a full on run. Harry gave a whistle, and Hedwig hooted, signaling to him that she was flying right behind them.
When the shadowy figure of Sirius Black came into view, Malfoy caught his attention and tossed the Potter's Wheel through the air toward him. "Nice catch," he said, as he slowed and then stilled. Panting, he waved a hand. "Home, please," he wheezed.
Hedwig landed on Harry's shoulder and nipped his ear lovingly, and Harry chuckled in return. "All right, girl," he said, brushing a finger under her beak. "Ready when you are. I'm just...what exactly are we heading into?"
Sirius shrugged. "With any luck, a new life. A better life. One where...where maybe I don't have to hide anymore."
Malfoy glared at him. "You didn't!"
"I might've," Sirius said, a smarmy smile on his face. He looped the tarnished time-turner around the pointed dowel of the wheel, gave the ball a spin, and suddenly everything began to whirl around them. Colors blended and smeared, shapes lost form and became nothing more than abstract shadows. The Whomping Willow disappeared entirely and the walls and furniture that lived in the Potter living room began to take form in its place. The whizzing slowed, the turning and twisting eased up, and four bodies dropped to a cold, marble floor.
"I'm going to be sick," Hermione complained, heaving forward.
"Mind the rest of us," Malfoy snorted, pulling as far away from her as he could. "What the bleedin' mercy just happened?"
Sirius, finding his bearings, shook his head. "That's what happens," he said. "The last few times...well, I was on my own. Prior, you've all been asleep and didn't feel the full blow of it."
"S'that why I kept dreaming I was being swept up in a tornado with a bunch of sharks?" Harry asked, woozy, trying to stand to his feet.
"No," Hermione said, righting herself and looking at her husband. "That's because you keep eating Firecracker Snaps before bed." She kissed his cheek as she heard the other two men laugh, and she turned around again. "So how will we know...what, um...what's been altered, or..."
"In the morning," Sirirus said, interrupting her, "It will be as if none of this happened. Your memories will rearrange themselves, fill in the blanks, and, with any luck..."
Sirius was stopped this time, his words being jackknifed by a loud knock on the door. He shot his eyes toward Harry and went completely pale.
"Snuffles," Harry said, snapping his fingers. As his Godfather morphed into a big, black dog, he looked at Malfoy. "Couch, pretend you're asleep, go," he whispered. "And you," he said to Hermione. "Right here, always," he muttered, pulling her close. He accioed their night-robes, pulling them on just as the knock hit their door again. "What in the hell..." he asked, feigning groggy irritation as he pulled open the door. It seemed heavier than he remembered. "Oh! Minister Shacklebolt, Sir," he said, standing up straighter.
"Oh, Potter," Kingsley said, laughing. "Such formality? After all we've been through? Please." He took off his hat and bowed slightly at Harry. "Sorry to bother you so late in the evening, but the other Aurors have Weasley in a leg-locker curse just outside his cell and..."
"What?" Hermione and Harry asked at once. "But I thought..." Hermione began, her heart sinking.
"It's the third time he's tried to escape," Shacklebolt said, cutting her off. "He's demanding to speak to you, Potter. He says he'll be agreeable if he just gets to speak with you."
Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Great," he said, "Give me a moment, would you, Sir?"
Shacklebolt nodded as Harry pulled Hermione back into the living room. "I can't leave looking like this," he said, eyeing her pleadingly.
Biting her lip, Hermione waved a hand and turned Harry's sweats and robe into a sharp suit. "Stay with me," she whispered, tapping his temples, reminding him to send a thought or two, a mental conversation, her way as soon as he could. "I need to know you're all right."
He nodded. "Always, I'm always with you," he said, kissing her forehead. "Draco?" he called to the lump on the couch.
At once, Mallfoy sat up straight. "I'll watch her," he said with a nod. "Nothing's going to happen to her." He gave a tense look to his friend. "Send an owl, would you? Let us know what this is all about?"
"Take a nap," Sirius said to him, now in human form again and throwing his hands. He headed toward the downstairs bathroom. "It'll all make sense when you wake up."
Peace and Love
Jo