! This chapter is written from Hermione's perspective !
- The Slytherin common room, later that evening –
Hermione woke up with a start, a familiar nightmare having scared her awake. Bloody dementors still hanging around the castle. Couldn't the ministry just do their job and catch Pettigrew already? All this despair hanging in the air wasn't doing anyone any good.
The Common Room was almost completely empty, apart from Draco's sleeping form in the armchair across from her. He was breathing slowly, and seemed to be sleeping soundly. Both of them had decided to wait up for Harry who had rushed to St. Mungos. Seemingly, both of them had fallen asleep at some point.
She sat up straight, and noticed a blanket slipped off her. No. Not a blanket. When she reached for the silken fabric, she immediately recognised it. Draco's quidditch robes.
Her heartbeat sped up when she realised he must have put it on her after she'd fallen asleep, just to keep her warm.
"Ugh, keep your head straight, Granger." She scolded herself, when a tiny sliver of hope reached her heart because he cared . "He doesn't see you that way."
After a quick tempus charm, she realised it was a little after two o'clock in the morning, and she supposed it would be better to go to their dorms and talk to Harry in the morning.
She got up from the sofa she'd been occupying and stretched her arms and legs, letting out a silent yawn as she did so. Carefully folding Draco's quidditch robes, she put them on the edge of the couch, before she walked over to him to wake him up.
Hermione couldn't help but smile at his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful. So void of the cocky smirk or sobby sneer he usually had plastered on his face. Not that she'd been on the receiving end of the famous Malfoy sneer very often. Part of her liked to think that he smiled at her more than he did at others. But she supposed that was normal, considering she was his best friend.
She bent down and reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, ready to shake him awake. As soon as she put her hand down, though, she frowned. What was that? She could swear something metallic had just touched her thumb. Yet, all she could see was his quidditch sweater. Was he hiding something with a notice-me-not charm?
Biting her lip nervously, curiosity getting the better of her, she took out her wand. "Finite Incantatem," she whispered.
A golden chain appeared, followed by a… Was that a time-turner? It looked exactly like the ones she'd seen in the Time Room at the ministry. No way this one was real. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape had nearly offered her one at the beginning of the year, when she was still planning on taking all the electives. They had warned her of the dangers of using a time-turner, and explained she could never run into her past self unless she wanted to bring down the whole time-line upon them. She'd assured them that she would be able to handle it, and they had had complete faith in her. But in the end, as her friends had convinced her not to take more electives than necessary, she had declined their gracious offer.
Where would Draco have gotten a replica from? And why would he be hiding it?
Unable to control herself, as she stared at the sand in the tiny hourglass in the middle of the necklace, she reached out. It was almost as if it was… calling out for her . She grasped onto the time-turner, ever so slightly, not prepared for what would happen next.
Was she still dreaming?
The common room disappeared in a swirl of silver magic and she found herself standing in a room she'd only been in once before, even if it looked slightly different. Draco's bedroom. How had she ended up here of all places? Was the time-turner just a hoax? A fake trinket to be used as a portkey instead? Bollocks. What would Lucius say if he found her here, standing in his son's bedroom in the middle of the night, she should-
The sound of her own voice, sounding both older, yet so much the same, made her jump in surprise as an image of her and Draco blurred into existence on Draco's bed.
"Is that what you'd do?" She heard herself whisper. "If you could change the world? Would you change it so we could be happy together, without anyone caring about our blood status? Without war looming over us? Would you court me in your ancient, proper, ridiculously romantic pure blooded ways? Would you tell your mother about us?"
"Is that what you would want?" Draco whispered back at her, his hand lovingly tucking one of her curls behind her ear.
Her older self was holding the exact same time-turner she herself had just touched not more than a minute ago. This couldn't be real . This was all just a dream, and she would wake up in the common room in just a second. Surely.
"It would require way too much magic to go back all those years." The other Hermione said as she studied the device in her hands. "Going back to stop Voldemort would require magic the level of the Hogwarts leylines to go back to the sixties," she whispered, barely loud enough for the brunette to hear. "If not, anyone who tried to go back that far would certainly get splinched."
"What about back to our first year?" the blond proposed. "After everything you've been through with Harry and Ron, is there anything you would change with the knowledge you have now?"
Wait a bloody second. Harry and Ron? Ron ? Ronald Weasley ? What did that bloody idiot have to do with anything? Alright, she wasn't just dreaming. Perhaps this was turning out to be a nightmare.
"I'd make sure Harry wouldn't grow up with the Dursleys." The girl sitting on the bed answered, Hermione suddenly noticing her Gryffindor tie. No. Way. Was this some sort of alternate reality she'd woken up in? "I'd take that damned heritage test we talked about and make sure I was at least a half-blood in everyone's eyes. That would definitely make things a whole lot easier."
Before Hermione could make any sense of what was happening, the image blurred again, almost like a video-tape being skipped forwards.
Her other self was now wearing the time-turner around her neck, and Draco took it into his hands before he swallowed deeply and said: " If I could go back, I would make your Hogwarts years easier for you. I remember what you told me about having difficulties making friends. I'd make sure you'd have plenty. I'd make sure no one would ever call you a mudblood. I'd make sure you and Harry would stick together. I'd save him from his family if that was what you wanted. I'd even tolerate that stupid Weasel for you. I'd protect you from the war for however long I could. Stop it before it reaches you if I have the chance."
"You'd protect me? Even if I wouldn't remember you?" The witch whispered, the awe clear on her face. The image turned grainy, reminding Hermione of the static she'd seen on the telly at home so often. "If you'd have to go back to save me, it would mean that I would be dead. Would you be able to live with that? Knowing I would never have the same memories as you did? Knowing I might even fall in love with someone other than you?"
"Any version of you would be worth protecting," the older Draco stated. "For nearly twelve years of your life, you'd live the same, be the same. No one would be able to change who you are, Mione. Not even me. And if you, if she, wouldn't pick me again, then… I'd be able to live with that. I wouldn't expect anything from the other you. I just want you to be happy, with or without me."
"What the bloody hell is going on?" Hermione said out loud, neither one of the visions of herself and Draco responding as they continued talking. Was this another nightmare that the despair of the dementors spread through the castle? Or was this a sign to let him go? That all he ever wanted was for her to be happy. That was why he'd broken the bond, right? What did any of this mean ?
She was even more convinced this was just a dream when her older self waved her hands and the ceiling above them disappeared, showing the night sky as if they were in the Great Hall. That for certain could not happen in Draco's bedroom. Let alone by just waving her hands around, almost as if all she had to do was wish for the ceiling to change.
"When we're separated, I will look to the night sky and try to find you." She said. "So if either one of us ever has the chance to go back, even if it is five days or five months or even five years, we can look up and remember this. Remember that it was real. That we're changing and fighting for something greater than either one of us."
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin as Draco's older form suddenly stood next to her. She studied him as he took his wand and put it to his own scalp, pulling out a silvery substance.
"A memory." She whispered, the image not hearing her this time either.
He floated the memory into what looked like a ruby charm which was attached to an ankle bracelet, and Hermione made out the end of the death eater tattoo on his left arm. It was then she realised that she'd seen him before. This was the man that Draco feared to become. But why was he here, in her dreams?
He conjured a dagger and made a small cut on the palm of his hand, grasping the ruby in his hands. Hermione could feel the magic she was so attuned to seep into it, as he whispered: "If we do need to use our contingency plan after you obliviate me, then I will do everything I can to protect you. I will make sure that whatever you wished for now, will come true. Even if I have to tear down the Hogwarts or the Wiltshire wards down myself to gain the magic that I need. If we do happen to face the worst that can happen, then I won't let you suffer and die for nothing. I will make it right, like you would do for me."
Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as she heard him speak those words. What he said was true. After the research she'd previously done on the hour-reversal charm and time-turners, she knew for certain that it would take more than the magic of just one wizard to go back five years .
Draco faded away, and for a second, she thought she was alone in his room. That this would be the end of her bizarre dream. But then, the scene changed and she found herself in a… Tent?
"I always wondered what I would look like in Slytherin green." The older version of herself mused as she appeared in an old chair next to a small table, surprising Hermione once more. "So, you found the time-turner, did you? I always figured he'd keep it close to him, to remind him of me."
"Excuse me?" Hermione stammered as she took in the mirror-image of herself. She looked so pale and thin, reminding her of what she'd looked like when the Boggart was taunting Draco in the beginning of the school year. Her hair was falling in wild, uncontrolled waves around her, making her seem even skinnier. There was a cut on her left cheek, and it seemed as if she had a black eye that had barely started healing. Somehow, she still looked better than in Draco's fears.
"You don't seem as surprised to see me like this as you should have." Her older version mused as she waved at her currently sickly state. "Have we met before? I thought I only had enough magic for one spell."
"You're me," the Slytherin answered, shaking her head. "But how? This is all just a dream, right? You're just a fidget of my imagination", she reasoned. "I'm still asleep in the common room, and me and Draco are waiting for Harry to come back from St. Mungos-"
"Harry's at St. Mungos?" The other witch asked, panic and worry evident in her eyes. "Is he alright?"
"Of course he is." She scowled back at her older self. How did she not know this? If this was truly an older version of herself, she'd know that Amelia was pregnant. See. More proof that this was all just something her mind had come up with. "He went to see the birth of his godchildren. Sirius and Amelia's twins."
A genuine smile appeared on the older witch's face, tears reaching up in the corners of her eyes. "That old dog and Madam Bones? Merlin, how good it is to hear that." She laughed, wiping away some tears with her oversized grey sweater. "But we're getting distracted here. And I didn't put as much magic into the spell as I should have, considering… Did you find the time-turner or not, Hermione?"
"Draco's wearing it. He had a notice-me-not charm on it." She sheepishly said, suspecting it was best to just be honest and follow wherever this dream would take her. "I wanted to wake him, but when I felt the chain touch my hand, I got curious, and…"
The witch in front of her chuckled. "Always too curious for our own good, aren't we?" She mused.
"Our?" Hermione whispered back in confusion.
"Of course. You're me. I'm you. I thought you would have figured that out by now. Or has growing up in the dungeons made your brain slower with the leftovers of all those potion fumes hanging around?" Her companion asked, tilting her head in amusement. "You're not still thinking this is just a dream, right? You know magic doesn't work like that."
"This cannot be real." Hermione whispered. "Because if it's real, then that means that he… That Draco… That I'm-"
"Dead." The other witch answered, staring into nothingness as she realised her own fate. "It seems so. Luckily for us, he found a way to go back. To our first year I suppose, seeing as you're in Slytherin green instead of Gryffindor red."
"There is no way anyone would be able to go that far back in time, without tapping into the leylines of-" No . What had his image, or his past self rather, said a few minutes ago? If he'd needed to tear down the Hogwarts or Wiltshire wards he would go back in time? Had he and Deandra succeeded in such a feat? Had he truly used the magic of the leylines running under the Malfoy Manor to go back in time?
"Did he lose his mind?" She nearly hissed, thinking of the danger her best friend had put himself in. "How could he ever think that would work ? The slightest miscalculation, and he would've splinched himself through time."
"He probably did lose his mind." The image of herself stated sadly, as she stood up and stretched her arms, the magic she'd used to make this spell clearly straining her. "After all, he lost us . Desperate times, call for desperate measures. I wonder how he got the magic needed. It seems like you have learnt more about that than me."
"You didn't know about Deandra?" she asked, incredulously. She herself had only known the spirit for a little over a year, but she could not imagine that her older self had never met her, even if she and Draco were… What were they exactly?
"The defender of man?" the older Hermione asked, surprise etched on her face. "What does she have to do with any of this?"
Before the younger witch could answer, the image shifted in and out of existence, much like the static she'd seen before.
"There is no time for this," the Gryffindor breathed out deeply as she crouched down in front of her. "The spell I put on the time-turner for my past self, was never meant to last this long. What you see right now is real, Hermione. This has all happened before. Voldemort returned, and the war, it… It tore us apart. We tried to protect each other, we made a marriage vow, so please if it has travelled back with him, don't be angry at him. We-"
"He broke it," she whispered quietly, interrupting the older witch. "I found it on the Malfoy family tapestry last summer and I asked Ragnok about it. He's been doing his best for the past two and a half years to get rid of it. To set me free. He doesn't know I knew about it."
"Bloody wanker!" Her older incarnation gritted through her teeth. "I told him I would never divorce him willingly. Yet here he goes, thinking I didn't prepare for any of this if he truly went back in time, breaking the one thing that protects us both. Men! I swear, Mione. You better whip him back into shape. If not, I'll help you do it, when I come back. If you'll allow me to, that is." She smiled, unsure if they would ever truly come together again. "If not, then I suppose he's done the right thing by breaking the bond and giving you a choice. You should not be bound to him because of the choices I made."
With a small voice she answered: "But he doesn't see me like that. You are his wife. He loves you. I'm just his best friend."
"Oh sweetheart," her older version smiled, as she put her hand on her cheek lovingly. "You are me . He might not see it yet, or not want to see it, but you are . Else you wouldn't have ended up here with me right now. I attuned the time-turner to myself, so that if any incarnation of me would ever touch it again, I would see these memories where we decided we would go back in time. It's the ones I never wanted to forget in case he would succeed in going back for a longer period of time. If you truly want to, then you can get all your memories back. All you will need to do is allow my own memories to combine with yours. Make our two timelines become one, like I assume he has done with his since he seems to have returned to his younger body. But only if you want to. The war isn't pretty, and considering I end up dying, it won't get much better. If Draco has given you a choice to be free, then I will do the same." She smiled encouragingly.
"If I don't get the memories back, then you will truly die," she whispered to her older self. "And I can't let that happen. Not to us, and certainly not to him ."
"He already has you wrapped around his little finger, I see," her older version smirked as she touched the tip of her nose teasingly. "Then I hope we will see each other again, someday. That we will be as one. Just don't go cheating on your N.E.W.T.s or any of that other nonsense when you get my knowledge." She joked. "I don't know how much the snakes have corrupted you, but I'd like to believe Hermione Granger still has some standards."
"Hermione Dagworth-Granger certainly does." She answered, a look of surprise flashing over the older Hermione's face at the use of her official last name. "But how will I find you? How will I regain my memories if the ones I've just seen are the only ones you've hidden in the time-turner?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "But Luna once told me that, if I ever ran into myself, I should tell you to, and I quote: " Never run out of time. Instead, you should swim in a sea of time, when you find yourself between death and his best friend. "
"What's that supposed to mean?" She sighed, crinkling her nose at Luna's mysterious ways. Perhaps she should have a good old talk with the Ravenclaw when she woke up.
The older Hermione laughed. "Luna told me you would ask that, right after I asked her the same question. She said not to worry. You'll realise what to do when you see it."
Another bout of static made the witch in front of her disappear for a whole ten seconds, before she came back, a pained expression on her face. "I must admit, I hope we will meet again, rather sooner, than later." She breathed heavily. "I can't wait to see Sirius' kids. Can't wait to see the look on Draco's face." She smirked. "Just, remember to have fun until that day comes, alright? If an international quidditch star invites you to a Yule Ball, and Draco hasn't asked you yet, just say yes. He's a nice guy. A loyal friend to have. And you'll need plenty of those."
"A what now? An international quidditch star ? Are you certain this isn't just a dream?" Hermione asked, feeling ridiculed.
"I hope not," the other Hermione said as she rested her head against the Slytherin's shoulder, the magic seeping out of her in an effort to keep the spell alive. "Because what would that blond twat do without us to protect him? He'll need us whole if he wants to stop the worst from happening. He just hasn't realised that yet." She whispered. "Keep him alive for me, until you meet me again, will you? I'll be properly pissed if he gets to die before I can kick him in the nuts for divorcing us ."
"I can punch him in the face for you if you'd like?" Hermione joked, trying to hold her older version up with both her arms as the spell was running its course.
"Please do. Square in the face, like I did by the end of third year. Tell him he's a 'foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach' while you're at it. He'll wrack his brain about that one for months. Show him that I'm still there. That I am you and you are me . He deserves it after what he's done. I always thought he'd tell you the truth, to be honest. I didn't think he would be this… Selfless." She mused.
"Is that a bad thing?" Hermione wondered, a frown plastered on her face.
"If you ever want to become Hermione Granger-Malfoy again, it might be," the Gryffindor answered, making Hermione blush. "He's probably too bloody noble to even recognise any feelings he might get for you when he gets older. But I have complete faith in you. After all, how could I not trust myself?"
"Thanks," she said. "That actually means a lot, hearing myself say that."
The older Hermione smiled. "I feel that is not the last you want to say to me. I've never been one to be short for words or questions. Go ahead, tell me what's bothering you."
"Is it wrong of me to wish that he would like me before we become one again? Else, I might go my entire life wondering if… If he only likes half of me. If the years Draco and I spent together before my memories return are just… Not real."
"Why would they not be real?" The image of herself questioned her, more and more static appearing as she spoke. "Draco never said a nice word to me before our fourth year. We didn't start secretly dating until fifth year. If he's your best friend now, that means you've already made more memories with him than I have ever had. They matter. You matter. He's just a boy. They tend to be a bit slow in the head," she jokingly winked. "Give him a year or two. He'll come around. Until then, remember what I said. Have fun. "
"I will," she promised. "I'm Hermione Dagworth-Granger after all. Brightest witch of my age. A boy shouldn't change that."
"Exactly," the Gryffindor agreed. "Do you want to tell him? That you know he's travelled through time? Or that you met me?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. I want to know what it means first, that he travelled back. Is there another version of him running around or not? How did he even do it? He's kept enough secrets from me the past few years. I can keep a few from him and put my Slytherin cunning and determination to work." She winked. "Besides, if I want to make him fall for me as well as you, I don't think I should tell him we've met. At least not until you and I have been reunited once more."
"Seems like I did indeed fit in with the snakes, as I predicted." Her older incarnation laughed at her own scheming.
Right as Hermione was about to answer, someone shook her shoulder, and she opened her eyes only to find herself in a familiar sofa in the common room, Draco's quidditch robes still draped over her as a blanket.
"Blimey Mione, you were sleeping like a rock." Harry happily, but tiredly, exclaimed as he shoved a picture of Sirius holding two babies towards her, one with jet-black hair, the other a shade of auburn. "Castor and Polarys." He proudly announced, already in his godfather role, as Draco had also finally woken up and groggily walked over to them to look at the picture, a smile plastered on his face.
"They're so cute!" Hermione exclaimed, smiling brightly, trying to hide her confusion about the dream she'd just had. Well. She supposed it wasn't a dream after all… Perhaps she could test if it had been?
"Constellation names, as the Black tradition demands." Draco stated, looking at the pictures.
Hermione was surprised to see him so young and full of life, after remembering the version of him she'd dreamt of. No more sunken cheeks or dark circles under his eyes. No dark mark blemishing his pale skin. Without warning, she reached out her hand and touched his face, just to see if he was real.
"Just like your name. Draco." She whispered, looking at him in awe. He'd travelled through time for her, just so she could live . And from the looks of it, so she could live a better life. So Harry could live a better life. Seeing as Sirius and Amelia had never seemingly met before, that didn't mean much good for her best friend's family.
"Ehm, are you alright, Mione?" Harry asked awkwardly as he saw the intense look on his best friend's face, pocketing the picture again.
Draco was looking back at her, his stormy grey eyes questioning her.
"Draco and I need to talk." She said seriously, looking sideways at Harry to tell him to go. She could feel it now, Draco's apprehension of letting her get too close to him. He knew she had a crush on him. But for him, there was nothing but friendship and the familiar feeling of him being protective of her.
"I think I'm just going to go to sleep… See you two in the morning!" Harry exclaimed, feeling the tension between his two best friends as he ran towards his dorms, looking back worriedly before he disappeared into the darkness of the dorms.
As she'd told her older self, it was her he truly loved. Not this version of her. His heart would only belong to her for as long as he thought they were two separate people. He was too noble to betray his dead wife. Would it be different if he knew that his Mione was still somewhere deep within her? That she, for all intents and purposes was the girl he'd married? If only she'd managed to remember more…
For now, she would do exactly what she'd advised herself to do: to have fun until the day comes that they become one again. Perhaps, that meant letting go of him, at least for now. Who knew how long it would take for her to regain her memories? Was she supposed to be waiting for him until that day arrived? No, she wouldn't. She had too much pride to let him do that to her, even if she did love him, and he evidently also loved her.
She should also mess with him a little, make him realise that she was his wife. After all, he had kept so many secrets from her. She was still so angry at him for hiding the bond from her, from not discussing with her how they should proceed. Keeping a few secrets from him in return would only serve him right. So, if she formulated this right, she could check if the events of the evening were more than just a dream or not.
"I know you won't pick me." She stated, starting to slightly echo his own words that he'd spoken to her so many years ago, in a different life. "I'll be able to live with that. I won't expect anything from you. I just want you to be happy, with or without me. I will stop looking at the night sky and try to find you. But I want you to know that how I felt for you was real, even if you didn't want it to be. You're still my best friend, Draco, and I will do everything I can to protect you. You have done the same for me. You made sure I have plenty of friends. You made sure no one would ever call me a mudblood. You made me meet Harry, my brother in all but blood. You helped save him from the Dursleys… "
He looked at her in shock, and she could see the gears turning in his head as she let her hand drop from his cheek.
"Hermione," he rasped out, his voice still sounding sleepy. "Of course you're my best friend. But. Where have you… Why-" he asked, confusion filling him.
"It's alright." She smiled, realising that what she'd said had worked. He was starting to doubt if there was a chance that somewhere, his Hermione was still there. Which could only mean that… It had been real. "I know this is some dumb teenage crush. So give me a while. I need some space to think this through." She answered as she kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Draco."
She handed him his quidditch robes and got up silently, as he dumbly kept sitting in front of the couch, his own memories probably replaying in his mind.