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The Lost Time	By : kate0404 Category: Harry Potter > Round Robins > Round Robins Views: 13264 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All works published herein make no claims on the ownership of the characters of Harry Potter, which is the rightful intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, Paramount, Scholastic and Bloomsbury.

Chapter List
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Something was off, very off. Draco knew it was morning, and he knew he was uncomfortable. If there was one thing he wasn�t used to, it was being uncomfortable. His back was aching, and his head was slowly starting to throb.
His eyes blinked open, and he realized that he was not hugging his soft, warm pillow. He was on the floor! He was on the hardwood floor with no covers or pillow. Oh, hell no.
He groaned as his muscles tensed and cramped while he shifted to a sitting position. Why had he been sleeping on the floor, when he had started out in his bed?
The startling realization of where he was and why he was there hit him like a bludger. He groaned again and flopped back on the floor. He was in his past home in his present form in a future time. Wonderful, bloody wonderful.
There wasn�t time to sit and moan about it all, though. He was going to figure out why he was on the floor and then take a nice shower to start the day. He sat up, grabbing the edge of the bedside table for support. What he saw on his bed made him close his eyes in frustration.
Hermione was spread out diagonally on her back on the bed, taking up most of the space any other human could have fit into easily.
Draco�s lip curled in something akin to disgust as he looked over the frizzy mess asleep on his bed. His lip relaxed, though, when he noticed her shirt had ridden up to the point where he could see the underside of her breast. It was a nice breast, he admitted. One that could easily fit into his hand if he just reached out and�
No! Bad Draco.
He shook his head and blew out a breath before turning on his heel and marching through the side door into the attached bathroom. Hermione and her breasts could sleep forever, for all he cared.
He finished his shower, enjoying the relaxing hot water pulsing against his back, driving away the tension of their predicament. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom to find his partner in crime still sleeping. Just great, he got stuck with a late sleeper when he abhorred even the notion of sleeping past nine o� clock.
He walked over to the side of the bed, noticing her shirt still hadn�t moved from its position, and he was awarded with more sights of her exposed breast. He leaned over and shook out his wet hair all over her, much like a wet dog.

The sun beat down on her as she lay on her favorite beach towel on the windswept beach of the Greek Mediterranean. Hermione sifted the sand through her fingers, letting the fine grains catch in the wind. Her eyes were closed, and she could just feel her skin tanning to the perfect skin tone. She felt a splatter of beach spray hit her body and face and she smiled. She loved the beach more than anything.
She reached up to wipe away some of the beach water from her face when her eyes blinked open, she saw the pale, rounded cheeks of someone�s butt across the room. She opened her mouth to scream but then remembered exactly whose pale butt that was, where she was and why she was there. Her mouth closed immediately, and she made a gurgling sound as the scream was suppressed.
Draco spun around quickly, not bothering to cover himself as he stared at the woman on his bed. �So, you�re finally up. Checking out the goods, were you?�
Hermione just closed her eyes and wiped her face. Ignoring him would be better than thinking of a retort this early in the morning. God, she hated mornings. �Why am I wet?� she asked, keeping her eyes closed.
�I thought it would wake you up if I sprayed you a bit,� he said.
�You did what?� she squealed. "What did you spray on me?"
"Water, what else?" Draco questioned.
At her look of relief, Draco said disbelieving, "What? Did you think I would...? Gods, you are disgusting. I'm not four years old and urinating on a house-elf, you know."
She opened her eyes and saw him dressed in the clothes he had worn last night. �You don�t have to be sassy.�
�Why do you sleep so late?� he asked.
�I don�t know,� she snapped back. �Why do you wake up so early?�
�I always have,� he said with a shrug. �If I sleep past eleven, I feel like I�ve wasted my entire day.�
�If I wake up before noon I feel like a bloody monster,� she grumbled, pushing the covers off of herself and planting her feet on the floor. �What time is it?�
�Eight-thirty,� he said as he took a seat on the wide windowsill.
She groaned and sank back onto the bed. �Wake me up in three hours.�
�Oh, no you don�t,� he said, moving across the room to the bed where Hermione was already halfway asleep. �We have a lot of work to do today.�
�A lot of work?� We have no idea why we�re here or how to get home. Let me sleep.�
�We have to go down to the Manor�s library and see if we can find something that can help us.�
�I don�t want to, I'd rather sleep� she pouted, burying herself underneath the covers and two pillows. �Go away.�
�Get up, now, Granger,� he practically growled. �Get up before I do something drastic. Again.�
She didn�t answer him, and his jaw dropped in shock. She had actually fallen asleep! She was like a narcoleptic, falling asleep at the drop of a hat. He rubbed his jaw, looking down at the lump of white sheets and frizzy hair.
He climbed onto the bed next to her and jumped.
�Malfooooy!� Hermione screamed. �Stop it!�
She scrambled out of the bed and took a pillow with her. He didn�t see the first wallop coming as she swung at his torso with her pillow. He went down with a grunt, and she kept whacking him until he was laughing for her to stop.
They were panting by the time she finished pummeling him with her soft weapon of choice.
�You�re right, you are a bloody monster in the morning,� Draco smirked, then took a deep breath. �Just go back to sleep, I�ll see if I can get us some food.�
She was surprised he had admitted defeat, but then again, she was going to get more sleep, so she didn�t really want to think too much about it.
He left the room, and Hermione sat in the bed until she realized she wasn�t sleepy anymore. All that pillow-abuse had woken her up. She got up and looked down at her wrinkled clothes with distaste. She really hated looking sloppy. She grabbed her wand from the bedside table and took out the wrinkles with a quick wave and then sighed as she petted the stiff material of her skirt. She would have to transfigure her clothes into something more comfortable once she showered.

Draco looked up and down the hallway before stepping out from behind the corner that separated the west wing from the rest of the house. He remembered the back way to the kitchen; he had used it on multiple occasions when he was younger and couldn�t fall asleep. He would sneak down there and drink some warmed dragon milk, a delicacy in his world, and eat some cookies one of the house-elves always made for him. Laertes, who baked him the cookies, was the only house-elf in the entire Malfoy estate who wasn�t terrified of Papa Malfoy. Old and wise, Laertes was Draco�s favorite.
Draco pulled out his wand and muttered the Disillusionment charm. He now blended into the surroundings, but it would only last a short time; he had to be quick. He made it down to the back entrance of the kitchen when the door swung open. He sank against the wall and watched a house-elf scurry away, bearing a tray of tea and biscuits in its hand.
He entered the kitchen and looked around. Everything looked the same with only a few minor improvements here and there. He moved stealthily, something he had been born to do and had served him well, both in his career and for sneaking food from his parents� future-kitchen.
He thanked whatever controlled the universe there were no house-elves in the kitchen. They must have already made breakfast and were starting on their household chores. He went into the pantry and shrunk as many non-perishables as he could, then stuck them into his pockets and left the kitchen.
He jogged back to the west wing, hoping his Disillusionment charm would last. He slammed the door to the room he was sharing with Hermione and leaned against the door.
�Did you run to Jupiter to get our food?� Hermione asked.
He turned his head, watching her leave the steam-filled bathroom. Her shirt was clinging to her, and he could see the outlines of her curves quite clearly. He knew she would look amazing naked.
�Ha-ha-ha,� he said with a roll of his eyes, then began delving into his pockets for the tiny pieces of shrunken food. He pulled out three handfuls and then returned them to their original sizes.
�Malfoy, that�s enough food to feed us for the next two years,� Hermione laughed. �How much do you think I eat?�
�Who said this was for you?� he asked, picking up a box of crackers and a square of cheese. �You can go get your own food.�
This time, Hermione rolled her eyes and snatched a cracker from his hand, popping it into her mouth with a sweet smile.
Draco smiled back and gestured for her to eat something. �I can cast a concealment charm on us long enough to get to the library and grab some books to bring back here.�
She finished chewing her mouthful and nodded. �I feel like I should know what�s wrong with the Time-Turner. I think that there is something out there that is the key to me figuring it out. I just need a push in the right direction.�
�Yeah, like out the window,� he said beneath his breath.
She threw a piece of bread covered in topazberry jam at his face. He laughed and caught it with his mouth, surprising her with his dexterity.
�I�m being serious, Malfoy.�
�Can you stop calling me Malfoy? Snape used to call me that, and I think we�re getting a bit old to keep up the �we�re-enemies-so-we-can�t-use-our-first-names-game,�� he said.
She nearly choked on her food. �You want me to call you Draco?�
�I know, I know, big shock, I actually want you to call me by my name,� he said dryly.
�Okay, I guess,� she said. �I don�t have a problem with it. It�s a habit, really.�
�Say my name.�
�Draco.�
�Hermione.�
�I think that�s the first time I�ve ever heard you say it,� she said with a small smile.
�Does it turn you on?�
He didn�t catch the next piece of bread she threw at him.

Hermione found the books she thought would help the most and returned to the room as fast as she could. Draco was right behind her, but she lost him somewhere between the second floor and the third.
Draco watched as Hermione picked out books, and he smiled when her face lit up as something caught her eye. Her thirst for knowledge never failed to amaze him; he liked to read, but she lived for it. The more he looked at her, the more he couldn�t stop thinking about how lovely she was. At first glance, she was just an ordinary woman, but when he looked again, he would find these gems about her that would rob him of any sane thought. Her hair was a mess, but he could overlook it when she pulled it back from her face into a chignon or French twist.
He had left the library right behind her, enjoying the view of her round bottom swaying, when he was distracted by a noise. It sounded like a sob, and it was coming from one of the rooms his parents used for storage. Hermione had gone on ahead, so he stopped to listen at the door, slightly ajar. The sight inside shocked him.
Narcissa Malfoy was sitting in a white rocking chair, looking through a light blue photo album. He had seen that album before; it was his baby photo album. The noise he had heard earlier had been her; she was crying into a silk handkerchief.
If there was one thing Draco hated, it was seeing a woman cry, especially if it was someone he cared about. He had the greatest urge to go over and comfort her, the way she comforted him when he was younger.
Why was she crying? What had her upset to the point of tears? The cool and composed Narcissa never let her emotions get the best of her. The war had changed her, yes, but she was still a woman of the world who overcame most fickle emotions.
Draco held his breath and moved behind an old bookshelf when his father walked into the room.
�Narcissa,� he said softly.
She looked up at her husband and dabbed at her cheeks and eyes. �Oh, Lucius, I�m� I�m sorry; I didn�t hear you come in.�
�Put that down, my love, and come downstairs with me. Your friends will be here for tea soon. Come now, and I�ll see if I can distract you until they arrive.�
Narcissa laughed and daintily blew her nose. �Luce, you are as devilish as ever.�
He smiled at her and helped her up from the rocking chair, kissing her cheek and leading her out of the room.
Draco felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Something was wrong, and he needed to know what was going on.
He made it back to his and Hermione�s room in the west wing and found Hermione sitting on the floor by the window, reading one of the many books that surrounded her.
�Where have you been?� she asked. �I was beginning to worry.�
�Something�s wrong,� he said without preamble. �I found my mother crying. She never cries, Hermione. Something has gone wrong, and I think it�s because of our time-travel. We have to fix this.�
Hermione watched as he paced, his eyes darting back and forth across the room. She had never seen him so agitated. It was endearing, the concern he showed for his mother.
She stood up and walked over to him, stopping him when she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaning up to kiss his neck. �It will be okay,� she whispered against his skin. �We will find out what went wrong. We will fix it.�
Draco had held his arms stiffly at his sides until she kissed his cheek. Her lips were soft, and she was warm against his body. He hesitated before putting his arms around her shoulders and holding her to him.
They were in trouble. Not just because of the time travel� but things were happening between them that would get an immortal, holy archangel in trouble. Great.
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The Lost Time