Hopelessly Devoted (to a Malfoy)

The Night That I First Fell In Love - Part III

July 1997, Côte D'Azur, Les Arènes de Fréjus

Twenty-five to one

"The incantation is: Revelio Fons Magica," Hermione said, as they stood within the vomitorium.

Yes, the vomitorium. The Latin language wasn't always the pinnacle of elegance many believed it to be.

"You make a horizontal figure-eight with your wand, like this," Hermione demonstrated the motion with a fluidity that would have brought tears to Flitwick's eyes.

Draco imitated the motion.

"Excellent! Now, here's the hard part." Hermione delivered her next line as if it made total and complete sense; which it most definitely did not. "To execute the spell, the caster must concentrate on reversing the flow of time in their mind, by going back over their memories in reverse chronological order. In essence; 'thinking back in time.'"

Draco blinked at her. "I'm sorry, what?"

She gave him a grave look. "I know, it's a bit mind-boggling. But there is a way to tackle it in a fairly simple way. For example, when I had to use it at Mont Sainte-Odile, I chose the previous Saturday that I'd spent in the library as my anchor point, and then mentally retraced each subject I studied that day, starting with the last one I'd covered and working my way back to the first."

Salazar's grey beard. This was going to give him a headache.

Draco gave a few valiant attempts of the spell, to no great means. He'd chosen the day that he'd met Hermione as his anchor point, starting from the image of her figure fading away into the distance, all the way back to his tea set going haywire. However, his thoughts resisted the unnatural order, stumbling and tangling as he tried to force them to act against instinct.

"We're running out of time — let's just get going," Draco said, after his fourth attempt had resulted in only a small shimmer of light from the end of his wand.

They set off on a journey inside the ampitheatre's walls, having decided that the long, winding tunnels would be the best place to find something magically concealed.

Hermione and Draco walked in unison, her impeccable posture rivalling his own as they repeatedly cast the painstaking Revelio spell. Hermione's wand sent sweeping arcs of glimmering lights across the arched, stone corridor, while Draco's continued to produce frustratingly lacklustre results.

Suddenly, Hermione let out a gasp, and Draco's gazed followed hers to a spot on the wall of the corridor about ten steps ahead. There was a faint, glowing light emanating from the stone's surface.

They raced to the dim, glowing blue stone, and Draco cast a Scourgify on the dusty surface to clear it.

There, as plain as day, was the ancient rune for Time.

Hermione looked at Draco, and he looked back at her, eyes wide.

"We found it," she breathed.

Draco nodded slowly, his heart racing.

Hermione turned back to the runed stone, raised her wand, and tapped it intently against the symbol.

"Ostendea Aevitates Locum."

For a moment, nothing happened. The rune's blue glow from the Revelio spell had already dissipated, and the corridor was silent.

Then, there was an earthquake.

Draco and Hermione rushed down the corridors of the ampitheatre walls, desperate to find a way out as the ground shook madly beneath them. At some point, Draco grabbed Hermione's hand, and held on tightly as they navigated the shaking passageways — hoping to Merlin that they wouldn't get crushed.