Chapter 21

169 5 1
                                        

June 18th 1943

It all came crashing down at once. The look in Malfoy's eyes told her they were utterly fucked. Hermione felt like she couldn't breathe, the residual pain from the scar causing her a dreadful bout of anxiety. She could barely register that Malfoy was talking to her. But that didn't matter. She needed to fix it; that was the whole reason they were there. Where did she mess up? What did she do wrong? Could she go back again? No. That would risk a paradox, they couldn't afford to risk it.

"Granger?"

She heard the voice, but couldn't form any words. Her mind was reeling. A hand grabbed hers. She was walking. Where was she going? The pain in her chest was increasing. The world was spinning. No, that wasn't the world. That was her. She was apparating. Just as quickly as the world spun, it stopped, and Hermione found herself falling to the floor on her knees.

"Hermione, are you okay? I'm sorry. You weren't answering me, and we had to apparate before someone saw us." Malfoy sank down to the ground to meet her, a hand resting on her back.

"What did I do wrong, Draco?" Hermione met his gaze. From his emotional reaction to her looking at him, she could imagine the level of desperation that her eyes held was next to hopeless.

"You didn't do anything wrong. Every calculation we made had a chance of-"

"Failure," she said, closing her eyes to try to shut everything out.

"You didn't fail, Granger. We are far from finished. We have so much time, the opportunities for change are endless." He brought his hands to her face, gently brushing her tears away with his thumbs. His touch was warm, comforting. She met his gaze and swallowed hard.

"We should leave."

He shook his head. "We can't leave, Granger. You know that. We need to at least ride out our ageing here for our plan in the next jump to work. We can't leave until we are at least of age."

Hermione wanted to move, but her body was betraying her. She just sat there, nodding her head because Malfoy was right. Of course, he was. It was that brilliant fucking brain of his pushing common sense into her mind.

Despite what he said and how much she believed him, she still didn't feel like herself. Despite the warm summer sun, a coldness consumed her. She was panting as though she had sprinted the perimeter of the castle. The world was spinning again. Draco was spinning. The urge to close her eyes was taking over and the pain in her chest had become nearly unbearable.

"Hey," she said slowly, needing him to be prepared.

"Yes?"

"I'm going into shock."

"Fuck."

*****

June 22th 1943

This was softer than grass. Where was she? She remembered the pain in her chest. The scar. She was outside. But now... The lights were too kind and comforting to be the same fluorescent lights in St. Mungos. Perhaps they received complaints and changed them.

"Not going to freak out again, right?" The voice was cautious.

"Malfoy?"

"Mhm. Do you know when you are?"

When? What the fuck sort of question was... Oh.

It all came flooding back to her like a tsunami.

"It's 1943. We're in The Hebrides. In our home that we built. We're time travelling together."

His sigh could have blown out every candle in the Great Hall. "What a fucking relief. Welcome back."

She looked up at Malfoy sitting on the edge of her bed. He was pale with worry and uncharacteristically dishevelled. "Have I been getting that question wrong?"

"For days, Granger. I was worried sick. I almost went to grab Theo."

Hermione tried to sit up but winced at the movement. Malfoy supported her upper body to sit against the headboard while he continued. "The first time you woke up, you thought we were still enemies. I had to stun you because you were so beside yourself. The next time, you were still sweating and panting. Your heart rate dropped, and I... I..."

"I'm okay. I feel okay." She placed a hand on his arm and watched him settle slightly at the touch.

"The scar reappearing must have given you a watered-down version of that pain, and the memories of you getting attacked resurfaced."

It would make sense. That day was traumatic. The scar was the first of many immovable marks she would earn throughout her life. She truly thought she would die that day. Back then, a part of her hoped for death.

"And I've been in this bed this whole time?"

"Yes."

"And you have been?"

"Right here," he said, gesturing to the side of the bed he was sitting on.

Oh. Her eyes widened slightly at sharing a bed with Malfoy. The couch was for sleeping and the bed... Well, the bed was for something entirely unrelated to sleep. Sleeping together in the bed was too intimate.

"I couldn't just sleep on the couch while I had a screaming witch in the house. I tried. Out of respect. But I couldn't handle hearing you cry out like that."

Hermione shook her head. She wasn't the least bit mad about it. If anything, she was more embarrassed about the situation that led her here. She was in bed for days. In and out. Her mind wasn't even clear. It was barely clear now. She closed her eyes, concentrating on everything that happened. Never in her time as an Auror had she experienced anything like this, anything this humiliating.

She had to tell Malfoy something. Did she already tell him?

"I need to tell you something."

"Only if it's not a hex. I've grown a bit weary dodging those. Even wandless, your aim is fantastic"

"I hexed you?"

Malfoy let out a laugh, "As I said, you woke up and thought we were enemies again."

"Sorry. I... I wasn't myself." She looked away from him and at her hands. Seems she was quite violent in her haze, even without a wand near her.

"What did you want to tell me?" He grabbed one of her hands, his thumb rubbing circles in her palm.

"Tom and I...I'm sure you've noticed we've been going on dates." He nodded curtly. "And well... he's inquired about officially courting me."

"He proposed a courtship?! Tom? Tom Riddle? Wants to court you?" His eyes were wide, and while she was expecting him to drop her hand, he held on tight.

"Yes." Hermione found herself unable to make eye contact. Instead, she looked at Malfoy's hand holding hers. "I didn't tell him yes, but I also didn't tell him no. I said it would be in our best interest to take the summer and evaluate our feelings, and he could ask me again when we return in the autumn."

"Tell him yes."

Hermione gaped at him, fully shocked by his unexpected encouragement. There was no humour in his eyes. He gripped her hand and brought his other hand to her face, cupping her cheek. Never in her life did she imagine that the teenage face of Draco Malfoy would bring her comfort, but that was exactly what she found when she looked into his silver eyes.

"Tell him yes. Make him trust you. Hermione, make him trust you to the point that he gives you all of his secrets."

"And then what?" Her voice was shaking.

Malfoy pulled her into his arms, hugging her like she's never been held before.

"We carry out our next plan. We make sure he suffers and dies, Granger." 

To a Better EndWhere stories live. Discover now