WHEN MY TIME IS UP
Chapter One
Summary: Even with the Dark Lord's return confirmed, Hermione Granger is still determined to spend every spare moment she has preparing for her N.E.W.T exams. So much so that, with McGonagall's advise, that she takes up using her Time Turner once again to study as much as humanly possible. And things were going well until a certain little Ferret puts a spanner in the works. Despite his interruptions, Hermione finds herself growing to enjoy his company, but as time passes, she soon learns of the trouble he's in.
Author's Note: This story will follow on from the events of the Order of the Phoenix, starting on the first day of sixth year. The events that follow from there will stray a little from the main plot but will remain true to the timeline and original story.
Pairings/Ships: Draco x Hermione | Harry x Ginny | Ron x Lavender | Other Mentions
Disclaimer: I do not own, or make a claim, to Harry Potter or any related material. This fiction is purely for entertainment purposes, I do not plan or want to profit from it.
Warnings: There will be strong language throughout, followed by moderate to extreme violence, sexual references, strong sexual content, and possible mentions of torture.
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o.O.o
Sunday 1st September 1996
Hogwarts Express, Interior Compartment
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"Don't you see? It was a ceremony, an initiation." Averting her gaze from the book in her lap on Advanced Rune Translations, Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly irritated. Ever since they'd stumbled upon Draco and his Mother going into Borgin and Burkes, examining a rather curious looking item, Harry had been on about it non-stop. From the minute he woke up to the minute he fell asleep, it was Draco this and Draco that. At this point, she was nearing her wit's end. The number of times she'd nearly snapped at him wanted to scream at him to shut up but bit her tongue was far too many to count.
Despite all the vile and cruel things Malfoy had said to her growing up, she still felt guilty about invading his privacy, spying on him no less. Harry, on the other hand, seemed to have no reservations about it at all, in fact, he seemed rather proud of himself. Yes, he and Malfoy had been childhood rivals since their first day at Hogwarts, but that didn't give him the right to go sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Regardless of how he felt about the Slytherin, there were social protocols one must follow, morals that needed to be upheld.
"Stop it, Harry. I know where you're going with this." Hermione sighed, hoping that for once her Best Friend would listen to her. While she didn't want to hurt his feelings, she wanted him to understand that this had gone far enough, that it was beyond a joke now.
"It's happened. He's one of them." Of course, her plea was left unanswered. He was so set in his ways, so convinced he was right from such a vague encounter no less, that he refused to see reason and consider the fact he might be wrong. Whatever the circumstances, Harry was always the first to lay blame on Malfoy when something went wrong, the first to see the worst in him. Even though their blonde haired classmate could be a little prick when he wanted to be, Hermione still believed there was a decent young man hiding behind the facade. But what chance did that side of Draco have of surfacing when his pure-blood Father was circling overhead like a vulture at all times?
She was willing to put good money on it, if Lucius Malfoy was a little more tolerant on Muggles and their blood status, then Malfoy junior definitely would be. Hell, if the son had some time away from his Father to form an opinion of his own, who knows what would happen? Maybe he'd be able to determine on his own that the notion of having pure blood somehow made you better than everyone else was absolutely ridiculous? It was possible.
"One of what?" Ron suddenly asked, having been completely oblivious to their conversation up until that point. He'd been far too occupied with Harry's invisibility cloak, running it through his fingers, chuckling to himself as he watched them disappear and reappear over and over again. Well, it could have been worse she supposed. He could have been stuffing his face full of sweets and talking with his mouth full like he usually did.
"Harry is under the impression Draco Malfoy is now a Death Eater." Hermione explained, turning to face Ron as she closed her book. Something gave her the impression she was not going to get any decent amount of reading done, not while they were having this conversation at the very least. So there was no point in trying, instead she simply bookmarked her page and tucked it off to one side, saving it for a better time when she could give it her full and undivided attention and be able to enjoy it.
"You're barking. What would You-Know-Who want with a sod like Malfoy?" Ron half laughed, half scoffed. If Ron had come to the same conclusion she had, surely that would give Harry a hint as to how far stretched this theory was. Ron wasn't exactly fond of Malfoy either, but unlike Harry, he wasn't using that hatred to condemn his foe without solid evidence. She was hoping Ron's words would hit home, and give Harry a well-needed sign that he was overreacting. After all, Ronald gave very little thought to matters such as this but, with that limited time of contemplation, if he was able to determine Draco Malfoy being a Death Eater made very little sense then surely Harry could catch on too?
But despite her hopes, she could see that determination and stubbornness ripple across her Best Friend's eyes. There was no way he was going to let this go, not by a long shot. This hatred of Draco Malfoy had spent years eating away at him and now he had a 'justified' reason to let it all out. While she knew Harry had good intentions, and his heart was always in the right place, this was just beyond ridiculous.
"Well, then what's he doing in Borgin and Burkes? Browsing for furniture?" Was that so hard to believe? While it may not have been everyone's cup of tea, the shop was well known for its unusual pieces that acquired to a more old fashioned and vintage taste. The Malfoy's lived in a rather lavish Manor for crying out loud, and she'd seen many people from the sacred twenty-eight shopping there before. Pure-blood families tended to take a fancy to those kinds of items. Maybe Draco was having his room redone?
"It's a creepy shop, he's a creepy bloke." Ron shrugged. Once again, he'd been able to determine that Malfoy going furniture shopping seemed more plausible than attending a Death Eater's retreat at Borgin and Burkes. Even in the scenario that Harry was right, if Draco Malfoy was indeed a Death Eater, she saw little to no reason to be concerned by him going into the shop and having a look at some of the items on show. What was he going to do? Bewitch the dining tables to charge the school grounds? There were much more effective means of storming Hogwarts, and they weren't sourced from any kind of furniture.
"Look, his Father is a Death Eater. It only makes sense. Besides, Hermione saw it with her own eyes!" Harry protested, gesturing to Hermione as he argued with Ron. Once again, her point was being made for her. Malfoy was being blamed, targeted even, for his Father's prior actions. His Father's influence and standing effected him in more ways than one. It wasn't just his own beliefs, but his public image as well. Lucius Malfoy was a cruel and sadistic little man, so people assumed that his own flesh and blood would be the same. It wouldn't surprise her if half the school had jumped to the same conclusion as Harry had, but there was no evidence to support that theory, nothing that would uphold in a trial.
"I told you, I don't know what I saw." Hermione stated firmly, looking the raven-haired young man sitting opposite her dead in the eyes. There was a short, but awkward pause between them before Harry stood up and snatched his invisibility cloak from Ronald, proceeding to open the compartment door.
"I need some air." He muttered in a huff, then disappeared down the aisle without another word. Letting her head fall back, Hermione let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. It worried her, seeing Harry this way. She couldn't even begin to imagine what he had planned that would require using his invisibility cloak on the train, but her gut was telling her it was nothing good. Still, running after him at this point would be futile. He needed time to let of steam and calm down. Harassing him wouldn't help anyone in the long run.
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The hours passed, and as they reached the station Harry was nowhere in sight. He hadn't come back at all, surely he should have returned long before they arrived if all was well? Something was wrong. Looking over to Ron, she wasn't surprised to see there was absolutely no concern on his face at all. He was probably more worried about getting to the feast on time and stuffing his face compared to the safety of his best friend.
"Where's Harry?" She asked, hoping he might catch on to the fact she was worried and that there was probably a very good reason for her feeling that way. But as usual, he remained rather nonchalant about the whole situation and offered her a lazy shrug.
"Probably on the platform. C'mon." Maybe he was right? It would have made more sense for Harry to get off the train if he was near a door rather than trying to get back to them, especially when that could risk him missing the carriage to the Castle? For once, maybe Ron's rather casual approach to the situation was the more logical one. She was no doubt getting stressed and worried for nothing. Harry was most likely heading to the carriages, planning to meet them in the Great Hall instead of searching aimlessly for them amongst the crowd of students, ready to ramble on at them about some new evidence he'd discovered regarding Draco's latest scheme as a newly recruited Death Eater.
Turning back to look down the aisle one more time, silently hoping that she'd at least catch a glimpse of Harry so she could stop worrying, Hermione sighed and followed Ron off the train, navigating through the mass of students to get to the carriages. The sooner she arrived at the Castle, the sooner she could find Harry.
Once they arrived, she waited silently with Ron for a free carriage, watching as the students before they climbed on and were whisked away, completely unaware that the carriages were not in fact enchanted but were, in fact, being pulled along by Thestrals. It was quite strange, seeing them after all these years of them being invisible to her. And while they interested her, as all Magical Creatures did, it was still upsetting to relive and comprehend the reasons as to why she could now see them.
She could only imagine what Harry was going through, how he was feeling at this point. Sirius had been the only living connection Harry had to his parents, save for his rather cruel Aunt and Uncle who offered no insight at all. To Harry, Sirius had been the only real family he had left, and now the man was gone, killed by his own cousin no less: Bellatrix.
The whole ordeal had clearly hit Harry quite drastically, maybe that was the reason he was clinging so desperately to his Draco Malfoy Death Eater theory? He needed an outlet, a way to grieve and Malfoy had presented that opportunity quite beautifully. They were likely to run into one another, and even more likely to get into some kind of conflict. The fact Malfoy and Bellatrix shared a blood heritage, that she was his Aunt, that connection between them would likely make it all justified in Harry's eyes. While he may not have been able to get revenge on Bellatrix, hexing her Nephew would be the next best thing.
"Blaise, he should have been here by now. Something's wrong." A soft voice behind her hissed, one that she knew all too well: Pansy Parkinson. For years that voice had been a constant source of verbal abuse to Hermione so it had become very easy to recognise.
"He's a big boy Pansy, he can take care of himself." Blaise Zabini sighed through gritted teeth. His irritation at his companion was evident from his voice alone, but Hermione could detect just a hint of concern too. She figured it was safe to assume they were talking about Malfoy, and that both he and Harry disappearing at the same time was no coincidence. Pansy, despite Hermione's better judgement telling her otherwise, was right. Something was wrong. The combination of a revenge-driven Harry Potter and a pissed off Draco Malfoy was not something that filled her with an awful lot of hope.
Before she could have attempted to go back in the direction of the train and find out what on earth was happening, she felt Ron gently tap her shoulder. A carriage had just arrived. Reluctantly she climbed aboard, waiting for a few other occupants before it set off towards the Castle. Maybe he'd had words with Malfoy, but left before anything got heated, and the Slytherin was simply lingering, sulking like a child? Or maybe they'd had a scuffle and both were tending to their wounds? Oh, Merlin, she hoped it wasn't the latter. Surely they wouldn't be that stupid? Then again, given all their previous scraps, it wasn't unlikely.
Before long their carriage arrived at the school grounds and they were making their way into the Great Hall. Most of the students were already seated, chatting amongst themselves while they waited for the remainder of the student body to arrive. With each moment that passed, Hermione could feel her gaze burning into the door, waiting for Harry to walk through it without a scratch. But with each student that entered that wasn't him, she could feel that anxiety build up more and more. He hadn't been on any of the carriages before them, and he hadn't been on any of the ones after them either, given the fact they'd all now arrived as McGonagall had proceeded to introduce the first years and have them sorted into their houses. One by one they went to sit with their housemates, and yet Harry was still nowhere to be seen. Where on earth was he?
Dumbledore went through his usual welcomes and announcements, greeting the first years and warning them where to steer clear of. The sorting hat even had a few things to say this year, advising them all to remain strong in these tough times. Craning her neck, Hermione glanced at the door once more before nervously looking around the other students. Maybe he'd just sat down with someone else?
"Don' you worry, he'll be 'long soon 'nuff." Ron mumbled, mouth full of pudding.
"Will. You. Stop. Eating! Your best friend is missing!" Hermione exclaimed, hitting him on the shoulder with her book, entitled 1,000 Magical Herbs and Fungi before slamming it down on the dining table, an exhausted look spreading across her features.
"Oi! Turn around you lunatic." Ron grumbled, gesturing to the entrance to the Great Hall, which Harry had just waltzed through. Spinning around, Hermione felt a wave of relief flood her system as she spotted him approaching with Luna Lovegood in tow. But as he got closer, her eyes widened in concern, noticing his blood-splattered face.
"He's covered in blood again. Why is it he's always covered in blood?" Ginny asked.
"Looks like it's his own this time." Ron muttered. Dread washed over Hermione like a tidal wave. What had happened to him to earn such a war wound? Had he really gone and confronted Malfoy? And had the blood dripping down his chin been a result of that?
"Where have you been? And what happened to your face?!" Hermione demanded.
"Later. What did I miss?" Harry asked, completely dismissing her question as he reached for a drink, moving the blood-soaked napkin away from his nose. As she was about to protest and interrogate him further, Ron intervened and gave Harry the rundown of what had been said in his absence. Well, she'd be having words with him later on.
As Dumbledore took to his podium once more, Hermione caught sight of Ginny now holding the bloodied napkin. Softly she began to dab the damp material against his face, wiping away the last remaining trickles of blood leaving Harry's nose. The rest of the evening transpired fairly quickly. Dumbledore gave a rather chilling speech about the past of Tom Riddle, how Death Eaters were practically scratching at their doors trying to get in each waking moment, then dismissed them off to bed with a simple 'pip pip!'. Ron managed to sum up his thoughts on the conversation, as they rose from their seats, in sarcastic eloquence as 'cheerful', voicing the thoughts of many of his classmates.
Grabbing her book, Hermione followed her fellow classmates out of the Great Hall and back towards the Gryffindor common room. But as she turned, out of the corner of her, she noticed Malfoy still seated at the Slytherin table, chin resting in his palm, eyes staring off into nowhere as if he were lost in thought. There was a troubled expression that wore itself like pain on his face. Pausing for a moment, Hermione couldn't help but stare. This was a side of him she'd never seen before, a face she never thought she'd see. Despite popular belief, it would seem Draco Malfoy was not always the confident cocky young man he pranced around pretending to be. It would appear that some things did bother him.
Perhaps Dumbledore's words had an impact on him? Before she could have contemplated further, he seemed to suddenly snap out of his thoughts and looked directly at her. Their eyes locked for a brief moment before Hermione turned away and departed out of the Great Hall. Absolutely wonderful, getting caught staring at Draco Malfoy. She could imagine that would be the topic of discussion amongst the boys in Slytherin tonight. Potions was her first subject tomorrow, no doubt she'd be getting grief for it.
"Miss Granger, a word if you please?" McGonagall's voice suddenly called, ringing clear like a bell throughout the commotion amongst the corridors. Stopping dead in her tracks, Hermione turned around and headed over to her Head of House, doing her best to avoid colliding with any of her fellow students. After a little navigation, she managed to duck into the alcove McGonagall had tucked herself away in, looking up at her teacher fondly.
"Is something the matter, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"Not at all, I merely noticed you've elected to take seven subjects for your upcoming N.E.W.T exams next year. With it being roughly double the number of courses the average student takes, I just wanted to make sure you're happy to proceed with the lessons you've chosen. While I'm well aware you're a hardworking and driven student, Miss Granger, we all have our limits, I do not want to see you making yourself ill." McGonagall explained.
"Thank you for your concern Professor, but I'll be alright. I've already planned a schedule which will allow me to study for all my subjects and have reasonable breaks." Hermione stated with a soft smile. It may have been a small lie, she had breaks, but they weren't what most people would consider reasonable. Maybe reasonable to her own standards, but if it were anyone else they would definitely argue the point.
"Well, if you're insistent on going ahead with your chosen subjects, let me offer you some advice. If you find there aren't enough hours in the day, I find it always helps to spin three times, it makes catching up a lot easier." And without another word, the woman departed.
