Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Somewhere in Time	By : serpentinred Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 64471 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 56
- 57
- 58
Chapter 57

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. It felt as if a lightning had crashed down on their heads as they watched the scene unfold in front of them.

Green light illuminated the area briefly, and nobody could move as they watched a single body fall to the ground, her brown eyes wide and lifeless.

Hermione Granger was dead.

Hermione was … dead.

Her hand clutched onto her wand, though instead of the Elder Wand, it was an ordinary-looking vine wood wand. The spell she had placed on it to make it look like the Elder Wand had broken, giving further proof that she was …

Emotions threatened to rock his body, and Draco wanted to do nothing but to kick something out of anger or close himself up somewhere and cry. However, years of training were not for nothing, and the moment he took a good look at Riddle, he knew he had to keep going; that expression on Riddle's face was much, much scarier than any other Draco had ever seen, and it foretold of the wreckage that was to come.

"Our priority is to prevent someone else from getting their hands on the wand."

"Hermione!" Harry yelled as he and Ginny ran towards Hermione's body.

Dumbledore's eyes flickered over, and his eyes caught sight of the wand Potter had in his hand. Fear caused adrenaline to rush through Draco's body, and as quickly as he could, he ran over to Potter and Ginny, grabbed a hold of them, and Disapparated.

~-0-~

Almost as if the inches of snow on the ground hardly affected him, Tom Marvolo Riddle crossed over the distance between him and the body in the snow. He barely noticed Potter's scream; it was unimportant to him.

When he reached Hermione Granger's body, he gazed at it; his eyes gradually followed a path over her body until it reached her face. Her motionless face seemed even paler under the illumination of the crescent moon. Slowly, he turned around and placed his attention on the other person present. Unprecedented fury raged through his body system as he stared at his former Transfiguration professor.

And then, a surge of power exploded outwards from him.

Dumbledore quickly waved his wand, putting up a Shield Charm before the storm reached him. However, it was useless; the magical barrier immediately got shredded into pieces and he got blasted into the nearest tree. An anguished yell escaped his mouth as he tried to lift up his arm to conjure another barrier to protect himself but was unable to do so. The pressure exerted from the explosion was too great.

When it finally stopped, he clutched his hand to his chest. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth as surprise followed by calculation flashed through his face. He seemed to concluded that it would be far too dangerous to duel Lord Voldemort right now because he didn't bother counterattacking; before Tom could strike him again, he Disapparated.

A strong gust of wind blew over the area, accentuating the heavy silence hanging in the air. The absence of calls and cries from night animals was far more noticeable now, without the sounds of dueling.

Tom tightened his grip around his wand and loosened it again. He stared at the spot where Dumbledore was last standing, but his mind was on the body lying in the snow behind him. A flash of red past through his eyes as he recalled what just happened in front of him. No, he refused to believe that that was true. He would not permit it to be true. The witch was his, and nobody was going to steal her from him. Nobody.

"Get up, Granger," he said without turning around, his voice harsh.

The wind blustering through the trees was the only answer he got, and he shut his eyes, trying to get that anger in him under control.

"Get up, Granger, and don't make me say it a third time," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll torture and then kill Malfoy, Potter, and Weasley in front of you if you don't get up right now, and I mean it."

Opening his eyes again, he whipped his wand across the air; a wave of magical energy swept out again, this time slicing through the first four rows of trees. The resulting crashes made heaps of snow billow upwards, and the noise echoed throughout the forest. Another swish of his wand, and the flurries solidified, forming into sharp daggers that shot through the forests and stabbing into trees.

But that wasn't enough for Tom. The fury inside him was roaring, needing a way out, especially since she wasn't replying.

"I said, get up, Granger," he said, swirling around and glaring at her still body. "Don't think that just because I've been lenient with you, I would do the same right now."

The explosion of his magic hadn't harmed her as it had done to Dumbledore, since she was at the eye of the storm. His eyes landed on the wand inside her hand, and his wrath increased tenfold. It was obvious to him what she had done. Bloody Gryffindor!

"How dare you sacrifice yourself for someone else? Pretending that you had the Elder Wand … Did you think it was noble to do something like that, dying for Potter? Do you think it's brave to do so? How dare you sacrifice yourself without my permission?" he hissed. "You are mine, Granger, and you will do as I say, so get up this instant."

However, she continued to lie there, and it would have seemed as if she were in some kind of peaceful slumber if she didn't have that look of surprise on her face.

"Do you hear me, Granger? You. Are. Mine. Don't think you're getting away from me like this because I haven't said I was tired of you yet, and mark my words, you're not going anywhere before I let you," he continued.

A frustrated scream left his mouth when she did not answer—how dare she not answer him? How dare she lie there, ignoring him while he was talking to her? The nerve of the wench.

"Answer me, Granger, answer me! Is this some new tactic of yours to show your dissent? What happened to your idiotic, Gryffindor courage? Get up and state your dissatisfaction, Granger!" he snarled. "Fight me, Granger. Use that bloody wand of yours and throw hexes at me. Pretending it's the Elder Wand … just because those followers of Grindelwald are idiots, doesn't mean that the rest of the world is, and I would like to see you try and best me with your 'Elder Wand.' Now, get up and fight me!" He turned away from the body again and closed his eyes. "I'm giving you three minutes maximum, Granger, three minutes. If you don't answer me by then, you have my word that I will destroy every single person you care about."

He breathed heavily as he glared at the sliver of moon hanging in the midnight sky. Absurdly, he was reminded of the time in the library when he teased her about her Astronomy essay. That memory caused the ire in him to rise yet again, and frustrated, he waved his wand through the air again, creating a Fiendfyre serpent that devoured nearly half the forest before he made it disappear. Scorched ground and burnt stumps marked the places where the snake had traveled. Yet somehow, that did not make the irritation in him go away.

"Fight back, Granger," he murmured, almost as if to himself. "Fight me." A derisive snort left his lips. "Give me a piece of your mind about how utterly wrong I supposedly am. Do you know how absolutely annoying you are when you give me that mocking, superior look? As if you know better than me? You really aren't, you know? You're no better than the dirt on the ground. That's why they—we call you a Mudblood. I'd imagine you're disagreeing with me." He turned around, his body shaking with anger. "Then prove that I'm wrong, Granger! Tell me how absurd I am for differentiating between bloodlines, you disgusting little Mudblood!" He pointed his wand at her. "Don't make me force you to move because I will, Granger, and I won't bloody hold back in my casting."

He hated how she was remaining quiet when he wanted her to talk. He hated how she wasn't talking back to him now, defending her friends and threatening to kill him if he dared to touch them. He hated the way her hands were clutched together on the side, unmoving. He hated that glassy, lifeless look in her eyes. He hated the way she laid there without any indication that she were alive.

And most of all, he hated her. He absolutely hated her.

"I hate you, Hermione Granger. I hate you with every fiber of my being, and don't you dare think that you can manipulate me with this. I hate you, you filthy little Mudblood, I hate you. Did you think that just because you've gotten away with it the first time, you'll get away with it again? I haven't thoroughly punished you for going back to the future. You're not getting away with this, Mudblood, and the longer you fail to respond to me, the worse your punishment will be. Now get up!" he growled. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. With a flick of his wand, he hissed, "Crucio."

Unleashing his anger through his magic, he waited for her to scream. However, that in and of itself made him even more furious.

"How dare you make me wait, Granger? You've already made me wait for you five years, five bloody years, and don't think you're going to make me wait another second," he growled. Slashing his wand to the side, he ceased the spell, panting from the unbearable rage surging through him. "Did you think that Cruciatus was the worst that I can? Did you think that's the worst you're going to get for this? Get up right now or else—or else—" He clenched his teeth together and pointed his wand at her body again. "Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"

Yet, she remained still. Her eyes remained open, unblinking.

He fell silent, his arm still held out straight ahead of him though he was no longer channeling magic through it. He stared at her as the wind brushed against them, blowing snow onto her face and body as if threatening to bury her beneath the blankets of white. For a moment, it almost seemed as if Tom had been petrified or placed under a Full Body Bind, since he did not so much as blink as he kept his eyes on her. Then, he waved his wand, sweeping the snow that had fallen on her body away. Stiffly, he walked up to her body and crouched down next to it.

"Riddle."

Her voice echoed so clearly in his mind, and he could almost believe that she was the one who'd talk, if it weren't for the fact that he was gazing at her still face. He clenched his hands into a fist and shut his eyes tightly.

"I hate you, Granger," he whispered.

Opening his eyes, he gazed at her again. Slowly, he reached out and brought his hand over her eyes, closing them. His hand lingered on her closed eyes, her nose, her cheek, and finally her lips. He brushed her hair to the side, away from her face. With her eyes closed, it almost seemed as if she were sleeping.

"I hate you," he repeated softly.

He slipped his arms under her neck and knees, his motions gentle, as if he were afraid of waking her up. Holding her body close to his, he stood up, turned on the spot, and Disapparated.

~-0-~

The moment they landed, Draco flicked his wand. "Accio Potter's glasses."

The pair of glasses immediately flew into his hand, amidst the sounds of protest from Potter.

"What are you doing, Malfoy! Give it back here! Why did you Apparate us out of there!" the Gryffindor yelled.

"Give Harry his glasses back, Malfoy," Ginny said through gritted teeth, holding out her hand.

"No," he answered, his voice so calm that it shocked even himself.

"We need to go back there, Malfoy—I'm going to kill Dumbledore if it's the last thing I do—I'm not kidding, Malfoy, I'll hex you till the next century if you don't give me back my glasses right now," Potter said, seething as he tightened his grip around the Elder Wand.

Draco swallowed when he realized that Potter might try to hex him soon; thankfully, it was probably harder for Wonder Boy with his sight impaired to hurt him, so he squared his shoulders and stared back at Potter.

"No," Draco repeated himself firmly. "And we're not going back there."

"What do you mean we're not going back there! Who made you the leader! Hermione's back there and we need to go back to her!" Ginny yelled, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I don't care if you want to run away like a coward, but I'm going back there. We're not leaving her, we're not leaving … her … her …" Harry trailed off, and a lost expression appeared on his face as the fact that Hermione was gone sank in.

Slowly, the grip he had around the Elder Wand loosened as he fell silent.

Draco closed his eyes and bit down hard on the inside of his cheeks before he answered, "We cannot go back there. And don't make me take your wands from you because I will. Weasley, you're the master of the Elder Wand right now, and if we go back there—"

"Just because you're afraid, doesn't mean the rest of us are!" Ginny screamed. "She's our friend, and she thought you were her friend, but all you did was run off—"

"LIKE SHE WOULD'VE TOLD US TO!" Draco shouted back, emotions finally breaking through the dam he had built up. "She'd said that the priority was to protect the owner of the Elder Wand, and that's precisely what I'm doing!" He pointed at Ginny, his whole body visibly shaking as he did so. "And don't you dare, Weasley. Don't you dare say that she wasn't my friend. Don't you dare say that I'm not her friend. She was the only one who stood up for me when Riddle Cruciated me. She was the only one there for me. She was the only one who cared for me. She was …"

His voice cracked and his eyes blurred as he dropped his hand to his side. He couldn't continue anymore. Ginny had fallen silent, and she surprisingly hadn't interrupted him while he talk. Seconds later, Ginny buried her face into Harry's shirt, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Potter, however, remained motionless, a vacant look in his eyes.

Draco, however, could care less about what they were thinking, feeling, or doing.

"She took care of me. She knew I would've been upset because I had no one in 1944, so she took extra care to stay next to me, to keep me company. She never left my side even when she knew it would be dangerous to do so. She didn't even care if it meant she would get harmed," he said softly.

He had no idea it could hurt this much. He had felt the sorrow when Crabbe died in front of him, and it had taken more than a while to get over that. That had been normal, since they had grown up together. With Hermione, on the other hand … somehow—however absurd it might seem—she had managed to wedge herself into his life and became almost like an older sister to him.

Now, she was … gone. And they didn't even get the chance to say good-bye.

He sucked in a deep breath and looked towards the skies, trying to push down the emotions inside of him.

Merlin, he was not going to cry for her. Definitely not. For Salazar's sake, he got out of the place alive; he should be happy about that. After all, self-preservation came first, and he didn't officially catalogue her as friend until recently. It shouldn't matter that much.

However, the moment he blinked, he felt the tears escape his eyes and trailed down his cheek.

And then, he couldn't hold it back anymore: An angry sound erupted from his throat. He kicked at the snow, pretending it was Dumbledore's face, as he cried and wished that everything was just a bad dream. He kept kicking the snow until finally, he slumped down on the snow, exhausted.

She was gone. She was really, really gone. Images of how she interacted with them appeared in his mind's eye, and phantom echoes of her voice resounded in his ears. He desperately tried to push them away, but the harder he tried to do so, the more vivid the memories appeared in his mind's eye.

"She can't be … she can't be gone," Ginny said, her voice muffled as she shook her head. "It's not possible. How could she be gone? She'd gone through so many things with you, Harry, and she always made it out alive. How could she be gone? Perhaps … perhaps she's still alive. Didn't Hermione say that Riddle mentioned something about Slytherin using time travel to keep himself alive? Maybe Hermione's still alive. Maybe the Killing Curse … didn't affect her."

However, they knew that that wasn't a possibility. After all, the Killing Curse was precisely what Riddle had killed Slytherin with. So that made it obvious that time travelers were not protected from it.

"It's all your bloody fault, Potter! If you haven't followed me into Borgin and Burkes, we never would've ended here, and I would've never had to become friends with her! It's all your bloody fault!" Draco yelled, throwing Harry's glasses at Harry.

When there was no reaction, Draco picked up snow from the ground and threw it at Harry, but he couldn't stop the tears from falling.

None of this was supposed to happen. Everything was supposed to have ended—or at least, all the ill-fated things should have ended the moment Potter vanquished the Dark Lord. How was it possible that things could turn out so wrong?

Harry didn't duck away from the attack; the snow hit him directly in his face, yet he did not move. It was almost as if a dementor had given him a kiss. The lack of reaction made Draco even angrier, and in his fury, he started grabbing other chunks of snow and threw it at Harry, until Ginny stepped forward, blocking Draco's view of Harry.

"Malfoy … stop … please," she said quietly.

Draco had no idea if it were because of her tone of voice or because the exhaustion that settled in his arm the moment he stopped to avoid hurting Ginny instead. However, slowly, he lowered his arm and he finally got a good look at Potter. That dazed look on Potter's face would've been comical under other conditions, but somehow, it just caused another pang of pain in Draco's heart. The sobs escaped the blond's mouth before he could stop himself, and he buried his face into his hands and cried.

"Bloody Gryffindor! You said we were comrades, Granger. You said we only had one another left. You said we're the only four left. You said we had to stick together. How could you leave us like this?" he wept. "How could you leave us?" He hit the pile of snow next to him. "How could she? How could she? How could she? I wished I never became friends with her."

That immediately got a reaction from Ginny, who swirled around away from Harry and glared at him, her eyes puffy and red. "How could you say that? How dare you say something like that? You—you—"

"How dare I say that? How dare I say that? Do you even bloody know how it feels like to me? Do you know how it feels like to have selfish friends throughout your whole damned life and then becoming friends with Hermione only to have her die on you? To have her die in front of you?" Draco hollered. "No, you don't know, so don't bloody tell me what I can or cannot say, Weasley!"

Ginny stared at him, as if it were the first time she'd seen him. Perhaps it was, because throughout the years they had known one another, they had never known one another well enough other than the fact that they were on opposing sides. Then, she finally dropped her gaze and took a step back.

"Hermione … oh, Hermione," she whispered as tears fell down her cheeks again. "We … we didn't even get the chance to say good-bye … we didn't even get to give her … give her proper …"

She trailed off, unable to bring the word "burial" out.

Draco's eyes snapped over to Harry, who was still standing there as if someone had hit him over the head with a sledgehammer. The fact that he was just standing there and not doing anything made Draco angry.

"Standing there and doing nothing now, Potter? What happened to the boy who saved the world? The Chosen One? What happened to your bloody heroic miracles?" he spat out. "What's the point of having you around? You're useless, you're useless, do you hear me? You're useless!"

At the back of his mind, Draco knew that Potter had gone through even more things with Hermione and was probably going through shock right now. However, he didn't really care about Potter's feelings at the moment. All three of them were hurting. Watching Hermione die in front of them was like having something ripped right out of them.

And somehow, he knew that that pain would not go away anytime soon.

~-0-~

The crack of Apparition announced his return, and immediately, his Knights knelt down on the ground.

"My Lord," they chorused.

When they didn't get their usual permission to get up, some of the more daring—or rather, those who believed they were closer to the future Dark Lord—tilted their heads upwards. A large portion of them immediately lowered their heads again as bitter coldness traveled down their spine once they saw the expression on Tom's face. They had seen Lord Voldemort lose his temper before; they had seen him infuriated before; but it was nothing compared to what they saw right now, and they knew better than to ask.

"Is that … Granger?" Abraxas asked Antonin Dolohov in a small voice, hoping that the Dark Lord did not hear him.

He never knew if Tom did hear him or not. If he did, he didn't acknowledge it. In fact, Tom walked right into Slytherin's cabin without so much as glancing at his followers.

Once he reached the kitchen, he propped Hermione up in one of the chairs and made sure she wouldn't fall off before he turned towards the middle of the room. He took out his wand as he eyed where the magical compartment was located. The visible protections were not so hard to break down. The real problem would be the invisible, undetectable ones and making sure that the preservation spells inside the cabinet would remain intact.

But nothing would stop Lord Voldemort.

With a wave of his wand, the items that were contained inside the magical compartment— things that Slytherin considered precious, such as potions, herbs, and books—flew out and landed on the floor, as if they were rubbish. Another flick of his wand, and the floor began to rumble.

Tom could hear his followers' fearful shouts the moment the floor started to move, but his concentration wasn't on them. The magic placed on the magical compartment was resisting against his intrusion, but he wasn't going to let anyone, let alone Salazar Slytherin, best him.

He turned his wrist slightly, channeling more power into his magic. The floorboards groaned, unwilling to let go of its hold on the cupboard, but in the end, a loud crash resonated throughout the room; the strings of magic holding onto the cabinet thinned, splintered, cracked; and the magical compartment rose upwards. With a swish of his wand, the cabinet floated over and landed on a clear area in the kitchen.

Satisfaction made a cold smirk appear on Tom's face, but it dissolved when he turned around and his gaze landed on her body. Stowing his wand away, he went over to her, picked her up, and placed her inside the magical compartment. Slytherin had placed many spells, not dissimilar to the spells he had used on the Chamber of Secrets, on it. The spells prevented things from ever decaying once they were placed inside the cabinet. That was precisely why Tom had decided to use it to contain Hermione's body.

However, he needed a safe place to keep the compartment. Slytherin's cabin would not do, since Dumbledore and Grindelwald could easily find this place. Hermione was his and Tom would not let them desecrate her body. Those two idiots were still searching for the Elder Wand, and he knew they wouldn't leave a part of her body unsearched. No, he needed a safe place and, preferably, a trustworthy-enough guardian to look after the magical compartment. The answer came easily to him: The Chamber of Secrets. It had an abundance of Slytherin's magic contained in it, something the magical compartment was filled with. Therefore, it should be easy for Tom to make the connection and Banish the compartment there. The Basilisk was faithful to him and him only, so he didn't have to worry about it allowing the presence of someone who wasn't supposed be there. The Basilisk wouldn't harm Hermione, of course, since he had specifically ordered it to not harm her. Additionally, if he needed to access the compartment, the only thing standing in his way was Dumbledore.

And Lord Voldemort was not going to let that old fool live much longer.

Tom's eyes narrowed as he recalled his old Transfiguration professor, and a vile smirk graced his handsome features, distorting it into one that belonged more to a demon than anything else. He was not going to let him get away this. That old badger was not going to get away with anything anymore. Just because he hadn't bothered with that lemon drop moron didn't mean he couldn't. But everything was different now.

And by the time Lord Voldemort was done with him, Albus Dumbledore would find hell a much more preferable alternative.

~-0-~

Draco was getting frightened.

To be exact, both Draco and Ginny were getting frightened, but it was more obvious in Draco's case. After they'd finally calmed down from their mourning, Draco suggested that they immediately started to move, since he was sure that they would be pursued. He wasn't sure about Riddle, but he knew Dumbledore had seen the Elder Wand on Harry, and he was definitely going to try to hunt them down now. If Riddle hadn't caused Sparkly Eyes enough damage, he could manage to catch up to them rather quickly.

He wasn't sure what the relationship between Dumbledore and Grindelwald was now, but assuming that they were friends, that would mean someone else—a someone else with a lot of followers—would be on their backs. Again. If they weren't, on the other hand, Grindelwald probably wouldn't get the news that Hermione was dead and would still make his followers go after them.

Regardless of the situation, all Draco could see of the future was gloom, gloom, and more gloom.

However, what really, really made Draco scared was the fact that the Boy Who Lived hadn't spoken or eaten for more than a day already, nearly a day and a half to be exact. At first, Draco kept taunting and mocking him for not doing anything but standing there like a potato—being vicious was his way of dealing with sorrow, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't exactly the right thing to do, but Draco really couldn't be bothered to feel guilty about it. After all, he did actually saw everything as Potter's fault. Ginny merely chided him once or twice but didn't reprimand him as much as he thought she would.

After a while, nonetheless, the lack of response from Potter slowly became more and more obvious, and Draco stopped with his sarcastic remarks. That was when he noticed those little glances Ginny sent towards Harry. Apparently, this was not something the redhead was familiar with either.

By the end of the second day, Draco couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, Potter. Stop this nonsense. Both Weaselette and I are already bloody upset about—about the whole thing that happened already. Don't make—don't try to make us concerned about you, too," he said as he stuffed a cooked wild tuber into Harry's hand. "I'm not carrying you across the snowy grounds so you better eat and get the energy you need to trek across the country, and you could be sure that I'll leave you to Grindelwald's followers if they catch up with us just because you haven't eaten enough to run faster."

Ginny had stopped in her motions and was watching the interactions between the two wizards—or lack, thereof, from Harry. When he didn't do or say anything, Draco ran his hands through his hair, frustrated, before he placed both hands on Harry's shoulders and shook him.

"Listen, Potter. You're not the only one suffering right now. I know you're sad, but starving yourself isn't going to solve any problems. The way you're going with it—"

"I'm going to kill Dumbledore," Harry finally said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Draco stopped midsentence and stared at Harry for a second.

"If Riddle doesn't do it, I will," Harry said, his eyes flickering upwards and meeting with Draco's.

Though it was quite a possibility that this might happen, given Potter's past encounters with Riddle and the determination in Potter's eyes right now, it certainly wasn't something Draco wanted to take part in. However, for all they knew, Sparkly Eyes might be dead by now. After all, judging from the look on Riddle's face before they Apparated away, Draco knew Riddle would not let Dumbledore get away with killing Hermione.

Nonetheless, if Dumbledore wasn't dead by now, Draco would rather watch on the sidelines and waited until Riddle got rid of Dumbledore for them. The Dark Lord would, without a doubt, think of some way to make Dumbledore pay for killing Hermione and escaping from his wrath, and that old coot could be sure that Draco would be buying front row tickets to the show.

Right now, however, Draco wasn't about to rain on Potter's parade—the bloke finally spoke, and that was a good sign.

"Fine," he said. "Fine. But if you don't eat, pray tell how you're going to kill Sparkly Eyes? You probably wouldn't even have enough energy to pick up your wand if he's standing right in front of you."

The forest green eyes behind those glasses watered, and without another word, Potter wolfed down the food in his hand as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. It was the first time he had cried after Hermione's death, and unexpectedly, Draco found it unbearable to watch—it made those sad emotions he had stuffed into deep corners of his heart well up, and he almost wanted to start bawling his eyes out again. So, instead, he went back to where their campfire was burning and started harshly prodding the sticks and twigs around.

Seconds later, Ginny went over to where he was sitting and handed him another cooked tuber.

"Thank you," she said softly as he accepted the tuber.

As nonchalantly as he could, he shrugged, though discomfort at being thanked by a Gryffindor caused him to shift in his position.

"We're … comrades," he answered, his eyes dimming as he used the word Hermione had used to describe them.

Ginny nodded. "But still, thank you."

She stood up, went over to sit next to Harry, and gave him some water they had melted from the snow. The wizard in question took it over the container and took a slug out of it before wiping his mouth and face with the back of his sweater. Yet, the tears he had wiped away were replaced almost immediately. Tears welled up in Ginny's eyes, and she leaned over and held onto him as he continued to cry.

"She's gone," he said moments later, his voice cracking. "How could she be gone?"

"I know, Harry. I know," Ginny said, trying to soothe him. It didn't work as well as it probably should've, since it was easy to hear that she was crying, too.

"She's gone through so many things. We've gone through so many things, and she always made it through. How could she be gone, Ginny? How could she?" Harry whimpered.

Draco cringed upon hearing him use that kind of voice; it was a voice he had never heard Potter used before. He sounded so … lost, almost as if he had lost some kind of anchor.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be alright," Ginny tried to placate him, though it hardly seemed like she believed what she was saying.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing's going to be alright again, Ginny. She's gone. Hermione … she's gone."

She kissed the top of his head and hugged him as tears fell from her own eyes. Draco looked away and mopped his own face with the back of his hand as Harry occasionally mumbled something incoherently.

So much for trying to kill Dumbledore. They were in such a mess right now, and Draco could not foresee Harry going back to the way he was before anytime soon. Hermione's death seemed to have hit the Boy Who Lived really hard. Or perhaps Draco just didn't know Harry well enough yet; perhaps this pain would make him even stronger.

The only thing Draco hoped right now was that Dumbledore would be in no condition to pursue them because as it was, Harry would only be rushing to his death.

For a moment, Draco wondered if approaching Riddle would be a better idea. For one thing, the blond was positive that they were not going to try persuading Dumbledore that they were innocent—what was the point after he killed such an important friend of theirs? Grindelwald would probably kill them on the spot for nicking his wand—so that option was also dead.

So their only options were to go to Riddle or continue going off on their own. Of course, Draco, Harry, and Ginny were all good duelers with their experiences from the original and wacky timeline, but Grindelwald and Riddle both had followers. Even the best duelers could get their arses kicked if enough average-skilled wizards attacked them at the same time. Therefore, continuing to do things on their own didn't really seem like a sane idea to Draco.

Of course, there were cons about going to Riddle. He would certainly want the Elder Wand, but there were possibly ways to get around without handing it over. The idea of bargaining with the future Dark Lord was probably absurd, but at least they were somewhat on the same side right now, after what Dumbledore had done.

Riddle knew how powerful a wizard Harry was, and their duel with the trolls was enough indication that if Riddle and Harry joined forces, their chances with doing almost anything was that much higher. Therefore, if he wanted to go after Dumbledore, having Harry on his side would make it a pure win situation. In addition to that, the time travelers also had the knowledge about the future—if Riddle wanted to do everything right this time around, what was better than keeping someone who knew the future around? Of course, the future would change again, but at least they knew where all the possible potholes were, and in that way, Riddle could avoid making the same mistakes all over again.

Nonetheless … Draco shut his eyes as a frown appeared on his forehead. If they went to Riddle, it would completely go against the wishes and instructions of Hermione, something that Draco wanted to avoid doing as long as he could. As it was right now, however, he couldn't think of what else to do. Casting a look at Harry and Ginny, Draco made up his mind to mention it to them one of these days, just to see their reactions and input on it. Not right now, however. Right now, their main concern was to avoid getting captured.

~-0-~

The German wizarding world was in an uproar. When the news—rumors, to be exact, first started, nobody believed it was true. After all, this was Grindelwald, the Dark Lord, you were talking about. He was nearly undefeatable, and there was only one person—Albus Dumbledore—who was rumored to have the ability to defeat him. Therefore, no one exactly took it to heart when a certain "Lord Voldemort" challenged Grindelwald. Some people even snorted at the idea that a nobody from Great Britain could take down the German Dark Lord.

Then, one particularly chilly morning, a soft, yet clear voice resounded throughout the whole German wizarding world, probably by means of the Sonorus Charm.

"Gellert Grindelwald is now my prisoner. Reporters from all forms of the German media are to gather at Nurmengard within three hours," the voice said in German. It shortly paused before it continued with a touch of vicious mockery, "All family members, friends, and … old lovers of the fallen dark wizard may also attend this ceremony."

Draco, Harry, and Ginny shared a surprised look with one another when they heard this announcement.

"Did … did Riddle really, really captured Grindelwald?" Ginny asked, shocked. "How is that even possible? I know Grindelwald doesn't have the Elder Wand anymore, but he's still a powerful wizard. How did Riddle capture him?"

"No idea," Harry replied, his eyes wide with surprise.

"And Dumbledore is apparently still alive," Ginny said with a grimace.

"Do you think Pigeon Leader would show up?" Draco asked.

His nicknames for Dumbledore were no longer met with glares or verbal warnings. In fact, there were a couple of times when Ginny even joined him in making fun of their former Headmaster.

"Riddle did mention 'old lovers,'" Ginny said with a vicious grin. "I think Dumbledore would show up. After all, he did go berserk after Riddle killed Grindelwald in the wacky timeline."

"We have to go see this," Draco said, shaking his head.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. "Are you sure? Aren't you afraid of getting accidentally harmed in the process?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "As much as I want to avoid getting hexed, Riddle's target this time is, fortunately, Dumbles and Grindels, and Lemon Drops only has his goal set on getting his lover back and possibly killing Riddle. Regardless of the situation, I don't think it's possible to get hurt."

"Aren't you afraid of, oh, I don't know, stray spells?" Ginny teased.

"There's still a good chance of ducking away from it," Draco said with a shrug. His eyes narrowed. "I'm not missing out on the chance of watching that old coot get what's coming for him."

Harry's eyes met with his, and to Draco's surprise, the Gryffindor nodded.

"We should go," Harry said. "Even if Riddle doesn't kill Dumbledore, we'll have a better chance at killing Dumbledore if he's already preoccupied with trying to defeat Riddle."

Er … this wasn't what Draco had in mind when he suggested to go.

"Wait," he said slowly. "Are you saying that you want to move close enough to curse Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Harry said resolutely—too resolutely.

"No—wait—Potter, you have to think this through before doing anything," Draco immediately protested. "Riddle and Dumbledore will be dueling there. Once Dumbledore is there, how long do you think it'll take before Grindelwald gets set loose? That means it's the three of them dueling. Again."

"Exactly, and it'll give us a better chance at killing Dumbledore," Harry replied. "If he didn't have Riddle distracting him, we'll probably never get a shot at it. As it is, he will be concentrating on how to save Grindelwald and trying to vanquish Riddle. Remember, this was way before Trelawney made the prophecy, and—"

He looked up, and for a split second, he froze. Then, it seemed to dawn upon him again that Hermione was no longer here to confirm his theories, and a forlorn glint flashed through his eyes. Taking in a deep breath, he continued.

"This was way before Trelawney made the prophecy, and Dumbledore would've never known about the possibility of someone vanquishing Riddle. It would make sense for him to try to get rid of Riddle now, especially since Riddle captured Grindelwald."

"And Dumbledore did crack down after Riddle killed Grindelwald in the wacky timeline," Ginny added.

Harry nodded.

The look of determination on his face was frightful, and Draco couldn't help but frown at the direction this whole conversation was going.

"Look, it's ... I hope that this whole thing will work out. Hell, if Dumbledore dies today, I might as well hug Riddle," Draco said.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure he would be appreciative of that, so much that he might just curse you next."

"That's beside the point, but what I'm trying to say is, can't we just stand on the side and watch what Riddle does before jumping in? I mean, maybe he might actually kill Dumbledore before we need to do anything. The old coot is trying to save Grindelwald, after all, so maybe he'll get so distracted that he'll get cursed by Riddle," Draco said.

Harry had a look of deep thought on his face, as if there were some internal struggling going on. In the end, however, he shook his head, much to Draco's dismay.

"We'll probably have a higher chance at it if Dumbledore gets distracted. He thinks that I'm the master of the Elder Wand, and if he sees me—"

"Are you mad!" both Ginny and Draco yelled at the same time, causing him to stop.

As Ginny continued berating Potter for his moronic thoughts and reminding him how the three of them were in this together, Draco couldn't help but find it amusing, more so because he was annoyed about how inconsiderate Potter was being. It was simply because Draco was worried for his own hide. He was a Slytherin after all. It was not because he cared about Potter … of course not.

Draco couldn't help but reminded how the Dark Lord had been obsessed about the prophecy, too. Perhaps Potter was much more like the Dark Lord than he was willing to let on.

After a brief argument between the two Gryffindors, Harry's face softened, and he grabbed Ginny's hand with his own. "I'm sorry. But you have to promise me, if there's any danger at all—"

"We'll all escape. Together," Ginny answered.

And they could be sure that Draco would be trying all he could to prevent that "danger" from happening.

~-0-~

A/N: Many thanks to those of you who've read and rated. Huge, huge thanks to the following:

Betas: Nerys and Marauder's Wolf

Reviewers: Maddie, Domina Noctis, somebody french, LadyCandi, KiiKii-no-squeaky, Aviendha, Nathoca Malfoy, caBuckeye, Al_Riddle, SarahLuvsZombehs, FutureErotic, and magentasouth!

Review replies can be found here: http://tomioneconvention.forumotion.com/t124-somewhere-in-time-affnet-version-review-replies#2320
- 56
- 57
- 58
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Somewhere in Time