Timeless Charm (Tomione fanfic)

Chapter 4: Time

Drip, drop.

The melodic rhythm of water droplets cascading from the faucet filled the air of the Prefects' Bathroom, resonating within its luxurious confines. Nestled on the fifth floor of Hogwarts, accessible only to those holding esteemed titles such as prefects, Head Boys, Head Girls, and Quidditch captains, this sanctuary awaited behind the fourth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered, its entrance revealing itself only to those armed with the correct password.

Inside, the opulent space unfolded, boasting stalls with toilets on one side and, opposite them, a grand swimming pool-like tub adorned with bath taps of every hue imaginable. Sunken into the ground, the tub exuded an air of indulgence, offering a plethora of choices—from differently colored bathwater to frothy soap bubbles and luxurious towels and bathrobes.

Circling the perimeter of the pool-like tub stood a majestic array of around a hundred golden bath taps, each adorned with a unique jewel, promising a bespoke bathing experience fit for wizards of distinction.

Beneath the veneer of luxury in the Prefects' Bathroom lay secrets whispered by the walls and hidden within the shadows. Rumors circulated among the students of sewers snaking beneath the tiles, accessible by a concealed panel waiting to yield to the power of a well-placed charm or a whispered spell. These subterranean passages, shrouded in mystery, may have once intertwined with the labyrinthine network of the Secret Chamber, casting an enigmatic allure upon the already enchanting space.

Amidst the opulence, a portrait of a mermaid adorned one wall, her eyes holding secrets of the deep, perhaps mirroring the mysteries concealed within the very structure itself.

Hermione, clad in pristine white, descended into the warm embrace of the tub, its waters a sanctuary from the tumult of the world above. As she submerged herself, the ambient sounds of the bathroom faded into a distant hum, and with closed eyes, she sought solace in the tranquility of the moment.

In the stillness, memories danced on the edge of her consciousness, whispering reminders of past conversations with Dumbledore, their wisdom echoing through the chambers of her mind.

"Take my memories with you; this war is not yours to bear alone. You need allies and friends you can trust," Dumbledore's voice echoed in Hermione's mind, a solemn reminder of the burdens she carried.

"I already have my mother and you, Professor," Hermione replied, her voice tinged with determination even as uncertainty clouded her thoughts.

When her memories flooded back, she had braced herself for solitude in the battle ahead. But she had underestimated the strength of the bonds she had forged. In her original timeline, she fought fiercely for Harry, and now, in this altered reality, her resolve remained unwavering.

A sharp ache gripped her heart, igniting her senses and plunging her into the depths of despair. Yet, amidst the darkness, a newfound clarity emerged. Trivialities fell away, leaving only the stark truths laid bare before her. Beauty gained substance, and she sought solace in the comfort of tangible things.

As Death's presence engulfed her world, Hermione felt an ethereal cascade, like liquid silk coursing over her skin. In that moment, she found herself embracing the notion that death within the embrace of water was a return to the womb, a natural cycle completing itself.

Reality blurred and receded, distancing itself from her grasp until all semblance of comprehension dissolved into the void. Suspended in this liminal space, she felt as though she clung to the very thread of existence, her essence tethered by an unseen umbilical cord, fleeing the confines of her mortal shell.

Then, a surge of energy, familiar yet amplified, surged through her being, akin to the sensation that accompanied her journeys through time. With a gradual awakening, Hermione's once brown eyes shimmered and transformed into molten gold, a beacon of newfound power amidst the shifting tides of fate.

Her surroundings warped and twisted, morphing as if retracing the footsteps of history itself. Scenes from the past unfurled before her, painting a vivid tableau of bygone eras. Yet, just as swiftly, the flow of time halted, freezing in a moment of profound stillness.

Reality shattered into a flurry of particles, crumbling into dust before her very eyes. Amidst the chaos, a palpable darkness engulfed her, a stark realization dawning upon her consciousness. She hadn't traversed back through time; she had obliterated the very fabric of the future itself.

A blinding white light enveloped Hermione, plunging her into a realm reminiscent of an underwater cosmos, where galaxies of water swirled and danced, each droplet a fragment of time itself. Within this aqueous expanse, the past unfurled like a scroll, revealing the intricate tapestry of events woven within the very walls of the Prefects' Bathroom.

In the school year of 1988–89, the newly appointed prefect Charlie Weasley, accompanied by his older brother Bill, was bestowed the keys to this hallowed sanctuary. Amidst their visit, echoes of Jacob's presence resonated, his brother's specter hovering on the periphery of their shared memories. Later, amidst the tumult of the school year, Jacob's sister ventured into the bathroom alongside the Weasley brothers, embarking on a quest for knowledge that would unravel the mysteries of Hogwarts' past.

The scene shifted, transporting Hermione to the fateful day of January 21, 1995. Here, Harry stood amidst the opulence of the bathroom, perplexed by the prospect of a bath unraveling the enigma of the egg's cryptic message. Undeterred, he filled the pool with water and bubbles, immersing himself in its depths with a sense of determination. With a triumphant grin, he cracked open the egg, only to be met with a cacophony of wails, prompting laughter from Hermione's lips as she bore witness to his antics.

In the hushed depths of her solitude, an otherworldly force seized hold of Hermione's form, wrenching her essence from the depths with a relentless grip. Silent screams echoed within the caverns of her mind as agony coursed through her being, a torment akin to being pierced by a myriad of ethereal daggers. It was a familiar agony, one she had endured before, yet its intensity remained undiminished.

Within her veins, a symphony of colors danced, reminiscent of delicate veins etched upon the surface of a golden leaf. Green and white liquid flowed like rivers of power, surging through her veins with an unstoppable force. At first, it coursed through her limbs, igniting a blaze that seared her very soul, though no flame licked at her skin. The heat, an enigma unto itself, roiled within her, a tempest of unknown origin.

As her body convulsed with the raw energy coursing through her, her eyes underwent a transformation, shifting hues with each passing moment, a kaleidoscope of color mirroring the chaos within.

Then, as if heralding the culmination of a cosmic upheaval, a blinding white light engulfed her surroundings, flooding the void with its brilliance until all that remained was an abyss of utter darkness, swallowing her whole.