Chapter Text
Although the events of the day had not been entirely normal, Hermione could never have imagined what would happen to her or to the people involved, given that she had barely had a normal conversation with Draco Malfoy in her entire life.
That conversation had taken place two years earlier, in her fourth year, while Hermione was reading on a Friday evening, sitting on the floor of the library with her back against the bookshelves. She was still wearing her uniform but had taken off her robe, and as it was a Friday after school, the library was deserted, with only a few first-years reading at the tables at the back.
Hermione had been listening to music on the cassette player her parents had given her for Christmas, which she had had to intercept to make it work even when surrounded by magic. She had then filled a cassette tape with her favourite songs and hidden it at the bottom of her trunk, along with a pack of spare batteries that she hoped would last long enough until she could go to the muggle world to get more. She used it a lot at night and sometimes smuggled it into the library on days like this Friday, when she knew there wouldn't be many curious people around who might alert the headmaster.
She read about sea creatures while absentmindedly running her thumb over the cloud sticker she had stuck on the player and listened to Silver Springs on her headphones. She was so immersed in her own world that she didn't notice the boy standing in front of her until he bumped his shoe lightly against hers. Hermione looked up from the shiny black shoes through the uniform trousers and white shirt with a green and grey tie, until she reached the face of Draco Malfoy. She stared at him for a moment, dissociated, until he moved his lips to speak to her, waking her from her reverie.
Hermione took off her headphones, but Malfoy had already stopped talking.
"Sorry, what did you say?" Hermione asked.
Malfoy snorted as if he was annoyed at having to repeat himself.
"I asked you what that is," Malfoy said, pointing his chin at the player.
Hermione hesitated to tell him the truth. She didn't want Malfoy to take it to annoy her and break it. She could fix it with magic, but she didn't know if the songs would still be saved.
"It's a muggle thing," she said, thinking that would scare him away. "Do you need something?"
"Why would I need anything from you?"
Right.
"Then why don't you go away and leave me alone?" she asked. She was having a pleasant afternoon reading away from Ron and Harry, and she had been happy that Krum wasn't around stalking her for the first time in months. The last thing she needed right now was Malfoy bothering her.
"You were humming and tapping your feet," said Malfoy. Hermione looked down at her legs stretched out on the floor and her feet crossed at the ankles, still moving rhythmically. She stopped. "What are those things you had in your ears?"
Hermione sighed. Perhaps it was good that Malfoy was interested in muggle things. Perhaps, if she was very optimistic, it would contribute to Malfoy leaving his prejudices behind in a hundred years and liking muggle gadgets, and a hundred years after that, tolerating muggles.
She didn't think Malfoy would live long enough, but she could be optimistic.
She closed the book and stood up, leaving the book on the table, and stopped in front of Malfoy.
"It's music," she said.
"Music?" asked Malfoy, a look of contempt on his face that made Hermione roll her eyes. He was also full of curiosity.
"Just music. It's fairly advanced muggle technology and it's transmitted through these headphones." Hermione picked one up and put it on. The song had already changed to Stand By Me. Hermione held out the other headphone to Malfoy. "Do you want to listen?"
Malfoy looked at the headphone without dropping his scowl, then took it and held it to his ear.
He immediately frowned at her, and Hermione raised her eyebrows, waiting for some other reaction. As the seconds passed, Malfoy's expression softened as he listened to the song.
Hermione tilted her head to one side, watching Malfoy's grey eyes sparkle. She took the earpiece she was wearing and was about to put it in his other ear, but Malfoy pulled away, grimacing at her hand. Hermione snorted.
"Don't be silly, it's better if you have both," she said, and he didn't pull away when she reached for her hand. She put the earpiece in, and Malfoy looked out the window at the sunset beyond. After several seconds, he closed his eyes.
Did he like the song? It seemed so; he was more relaxed than she had ever seen him. His profile was so aristocratic, his nose so finely chiselled, and his skin looked so smooth in the evening light that even his hair seemed to sparkle with golden highlights.
Perhaps he was handsome. Perhaps, if he weren't the rudest person in the world to her, she could admit that Draco Malfoy was handsome, but that was simply an idea she couldn't entertain without first separating Malfoy from all the bad times he had put her through.
So no, she wouldn't say Malfoy was handsome, but she liked the way he enjoyed the music.
Hermione sighed and smiled when Malfoy did, then he opened his eyes and she became serious as he unceremoniously removed the headphones and handed them to her.
"Clever things, those muggles," Malfoy said.
There he was.
"They're people, not things."
"Whatever." Malfoy looked at the player suspiciously and then started walking backwards away from her. "I'll tell Dumbledore you brought forbidden technology to school."
"No, Malfoy." Hermione put her player and headphones in her pocket and started chasing him around the library. "Don't do that."
"I'm on my way to doing just that," Malfoy sang, giving her an evil smile before turning and running away.
"Malfoy, no!" Hermione chased him for a bit, but he had already reached the library doors and left without looking back. Hermione growled, "Merlín, what an envious boy."
She went back to find where she was to collect her things and stomped out of the library. After days of waiting for Dumbledore to call her to his office, she realised that perhaps Malfoy hadn't gossiped to the headmaster, or perhaps Dumbledore had allowed her the privilege of keeping her player. None of that mattered because her player ended up getting lost somewhere in her muggle home and she didn't take the time to look for it again.
Hermione often remembered that moment with Malfoy.
It hadn't been an entirely friendly conversation, but it was the most normal interaction she had ever had with Draco Malfoy, so the events of that night in Sixth Year were unexpected.
Harry had gone with Dumbledore and left her in charge of the Marauder's Map, while Ron was responsible for distributing Felix Felicis potion for everyone's good luck. That had been the first oversight, as Hermione had left him with the bottle to go and find Ginny and Neville, but both Hermione and Ron had overlooked the fact that she hadn't taken a single sip.
Just as emboldened as if she had drunk the whole bottle herself, Hermione went up to the seventh floor, where Draco Malfoy's name on the map could be seen pacing back and forth near the Room of Requirement.
At first, she didn't think Malfoy was doing anything to be afraid of, it must just be some stupid joke on the blond's part to annoy Harry, but after the Sectumsempra, she wasn't so sure.
She had barely reached the seventh floor, breathless and sweaty, when she heard a thud and then:
"Damn it!" It was Malfoy's voice.
Hermione cast a silencing spell at her feet and approached from the side of the corridor, peeking out just enough to see Malfoy fall to the floor, his hands covering his face, looking more dishevelled than she had ever seen him before.
He looked defeated, but Harry had said that Malfoy was shouting with joy because he had achieved what he had set out to do and would carry out his plan that night, whatever it was.
Hermione didn't think he looked happy, quite the opposite.
What was he planning? What made him happy and miserable at the same time? Hermione had never wanted to understand anyone as much as she wanted to understand him. Her curiosity about him was unjustifiable, and while everyone else was satisfied with what Malfoy showed of himself, she knew there was more. He just didn't want anyone else to see what lay beneath his malice.
She had been certain for a long time that everything she knew about Draco Malfoy was a lie. Hermione had seen him close his eyes to a song in the evening light, and not that it redeemed him of his sins, but a bad person did not enjoy a love song in front of the person he supposedly despised most in the world.
He had looked so vulnerable in front of her.
And he hated her.
What would it have been like if he hadn't hated her?
The only thing Hermione knew was that she wouldn't have listened to music with her eyes closed in front of Malfoy, but he did it in front of her, and that alone was enough for her to remember that Malfoy was also Draco.
Draco.
The only thing she knew about Draco was that he liked Stand By Me.
But that night in Sixth Year, there he was, showing something more than the arrogance that always accompanied him.
The only good thing Hermione had done that night was to take a step into the corridor and remain in his sight.
"Malfoy?" she called out, and all the expressions he made in the following seconds showed a little more of the boy she had met in the library years ago.
When he turned to look at her, his grey eyes crystal clear and red around the edges, his expression of bewilderment gave way to anger as he stood up hastily.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, striding towards her. His voice was deep, hoarse, strange to her ears. As if he were no longer just a boy but a man. Hermione couldn't help the tremor that ran through her body, not from fear, but from nerves. "What are you doing here, Granger?"
Hermione forced herself to lift her chin as he stopped right in front of her. Hermione clutched the hem of her uniform skirt in her fists, and although she should have taken out her wand, she didn't think she would need to defend herself against Draco Malfoy, did she?
"I was just passing by," she said. "What are you doing here?"
Malfoy let out a bitter laugh that penetrated her bones and almost made her take a step back, but she stayed where she was.
"You're never just passing by, are you?" Malfoy looked down at her, a whole head taller than her, and Hermione hated being so much shorter than him. The angry expression on his face gave way to something else, exhaustion, and Hermione took it as an opening she had to seize. "Go away, Granger."
"Why? What are you doing here?" Hermione tried to see behind him, but Malfoy answered immediately and she turned to look at him.
"It's none of your business what I'm doing here, but you have to leave. I'm not playing games." She knew he wasn't. He was frowning, his jaw was clenched, his nostrils were flared, and his eyes were reddening. "Don't be stupid for once in your life."
Hermione frowned. She would have been angrier if it weren't for the feeling that Malfoy was right. Behind him, the deserted corridor was darker, and she couldn't see beyond it, towards the intersection that led to the Room of Requirement.
She had to call everyone else. This was where they needed to be to fight Malfoy and thwart his plan.
"What if I don't want to leave?" she asked bravely.
"You'll die," he said simply, but the sharp gulp in his throat took away the simplicity of his words.
She would die anyway if she didn't fight whatever he was doing, so she might as well start fighting sooner.
"That simple?" she asked, and Draco nodded, looking away from her and closing his eyes.
"Simpler than you think."
"What if I stop you?" she asked, slowly taking her wand out of her pocket. Malfoy opened his eyes at the movement, and contrary to everything she expected, he smiled.
"How brave," he said under his breath. When he relaxed his features, he looked like the sixteen-year-old boy he really was, tired and defeated, but just a boy. "Granger, I know you want to fight, but you can't do this alone. You can fight me, but killing me now won't change the course of events. I just want you to get out of here and go to Potter and that stupid Weasley and play your hero games together, but not alone. And if you want to be selfish, which I suggest, go and find a hiding place for yourself."
Hermione almost laughed.
"You don't know me at all, do you?" she asked, and then an explosion was heard from the end of the corridor.
"Go, damn it! You won't die because of me." Malfoy intended to grab her arms with his hands but stopped, leaving his hands in fists, and his desperate expression was what frightened her. What could he be afraid of? Hermione looked down the corridor behind him, and that's when she heard it.
The psychopathic laugh she had first heard at the Ministry the previous year. Hermione's heart stopped for a second before racing back to a thousand beats per second, and she looked at Malfoy, who seemed no less frightened than she was.
Bellatrix Lestrange was at Hogwarts.
"Draco..." she called him by his name for the first time in her life, her voice broken and barely a whisper. "What have you done?"
"You have to tell the others." Malfoy swallowed hard and this time he did take her by the arms, but his grip was not strong. It was soft and gentle, as if he were begging her. "Go, run, Hermione."
Hermione couldn't believe what he had done, but when the laughter repeated itself, Hermione began to back away from the corridor, and although she had a thousand questions to ask Malfoy, she had to leave and warn everyone else, everyone she could. The last thing she saw before she ran off was a strange look of relief on Malfoy's face.
After that, Hermione only remembered flashes of various chaotic moments: her running and stumbling down the stairs, bumping into Ron and Ginny and explaining to them with a lump in her throat what was happening, and then continuing to run, calling the Order, sending a Patronus, an explosion, children screaming, the Dark Mark over Hogwarts, and suddenly Greyback ran past her, laughing as spells were cast at him and his shoes left traces of... blood? on the floor. Hermione ran out into one of the third-floor corridors, where she found Bill Weasley on the floor being helped by Tonks.
There was blood everywhere.
Hermione knew from the moment Voldemort had become corporeal again that there would be a war. There was no other way. But she wasn't prepared for battle. Yes, she was brave and could think under pressure, but that didn't mean she was ready to fight Death Eaters who were casting killing curses everywhere, uncontrollably, without caring who they hit. Hermione did her best to block curses, crossing through the middle of the battle.
She could see her friends and those of the Order of the Phoenix fighting skilfully, while broken window glass and pieces of wall fell beside her where the curses collided, and the moment her eyes met Greyback's across a staircase, and the werewolf smiled at her, showing his blood-stained teeth, Hermione panicked. Of course, she cast a freezing spell through the others that hit Greyback in the chest and left him petrified on the floor, but even that did not calm her anxiety.
She had almost been attacked by a werewolf.
She gasped for air.
From the top of the stairs, Hermione cast as many spells and counter-spells as she could, petrifying those who noticed her presence because she was terrified that any Death Eater would come near her.
"Hermione!" Harry's voice came from the corridor behind her, and she saw him coming down the stairs from the Astronomy Tower and reaching her. Hermione cast another spell before turning to him.
"Harry, you're here! Malfoy..."
"Where's Malfoy? Where did he go? Is he still with Snape?" Harry grabbed her by the arms and shook her.
"I don't know, I don't..."
As soon as he heard her words, Harry let go of her and continued down the stairs, pushing past everyone and casting blocking spells until he was out of the castle.
"It's done!" shouted a Death Eater from somewhere, and everyone else seemed to get the message, because they looked for ways to get out of the castle, fighting anyone who got in their way.
Hermione didn't get in the way of any of them; she could barely breathe, and when she saw that all the Death Eaters were really leaving, she felt her anxiety about to explode into a trembling, tearful disaster.
Staggering into a corridor and inevitably stepping in pools of blood that she had no idea whose they were, Hermione entered the library and, taking deep breaths, managed to reach a table, where she sat down and put her hand on her chest.
"They're gone..." she murmured, closing her eyes. "They're gone, it's okay, they're gone."
She wanted to calm herself down because she had been able to help in the battle and nothing bad had happened to her, but she couldn't. She felt her heart racing and her limbs trembling.
She was fine, everything was fine. She hadn't died. She wouldn't die yet. She was young and brave, she had overcome this battle, and she would overcome all those to come, but she had to learn to control herself because she couldn't have a panic attack every time she saw a duel and...
"Oh, look at that," the high-pitched voice that came from the library doors made her hold her breath. "I used to spend hours here. It's not that I loved learning, but you can learn a lot about dark magic by reading."
"Aunt Bella, I don't think this is the time for a stroll," Malfoy's voice was cautious. "We must leave right now before they corner us."
Bellatrix's laughter made Hermione's blood run cold.
"Who will corner us, Draco? Potter and his friends are busy with the old man's death."
Old man? What old man?
Hermione cast another silencing spell and stood up, leaving the table behind her. As quietly as she could, she walked along the side of the bookshelves, out of sight of Bellatrix and Malfoy, to the end of the library, just before reaching the forbidden section.
She wouldn't fight Bellatrix; she had no chance of winning.
Footsteps could be heard, and Hermione put her hand over her mouth, closing her eyes tightly. If Bellatrix found her, she would defend herself, but in the meantime, she could... stay there, avoid confronting a murderer.
Hide.
"This Potions section brings back such bad memories."
Hermione heard a loud crash, like a bookcase full of books falling, and then all the window panes exploded and flew everywhere. Hermione protected herself with a wave of her wand and then peeked out from the side of the bookcase. Bellatrix was still closer to the entrance than to her, and the floor was littered with glass, while dust from the fallen bookcase floated in the air.
"Aunt Bella, we must..."
"Shut up!" The shout also froze Hermione in her tracks. "I'm remembering old times and... What's that?"
The last question was sung cheerfully, and Hermione wondered what she could have seen, but she didn't even need to peek out to notice.
Footprints.
Her shoes had left footprints of... blood?
Hermione watched in horror as the trail of footprints led to where she was standing. She didn't even know if she was breathing.
"Oh, there's someone here! How fun!" The humming followed by laughter was terrible, and Hermione clutched her wand in her hand, realising she had to fight. "Let's play hide and seek. One, two, three, here I come!"
"Bella, there's no time!" Malfoy's growl was loud and clear, furious. "We have to leave right now."
"How bitter, but okay. Let's go." There was a two-second silence, and then, "Reducto!"
All the bookshelves on Hermione's side fell to the floor with a loud thud, and Hermione didn't even wait to be discovered before turning around and casting spells as she tried to cross to the other side of the library.
"Desmaius! Expelliarmus!" Hermione got halfway across, just two steps away from covering herself behind the bookshelves again and having time to cast a Protego spell.
"Oh, mudblood," Bellatrix sounded so excited. "Avada Kedabra!"
Hermione saw the reflection of a green ray coming out of Bellatrix's wand, but she didn't get hit because she was surrounded by water and drowned. She opened her eyes, which she had closed, and when she saw the surface nearby, she rose above it, sitting where she was.
In a bathtub?
It had been the most confusing moment she had ever experienced.
Strange as it may seem, the first thing that caught her attention when she surfaced from the bathtub and caught her breath was Harry's growing beard.
Then she looked around, discovering that Bellatrix was no longer near the library entrance. In fact, she was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Malfoy.
"Hermione?" Harry gasped with concern and leaned over her in the bathtub. His brow was furrowed, his eyes alarmed behind his glasses, and his chin... covered in hair? "Hermione? Is that you?"
"Harry..." Hermione ran a hand over her face, finishing wiping away the water and removing a few strands of wet hair. She quickly stood up in the tub, feeling her heavy, soaked uniform dripping water that ran down her legs. Harry followed her movements with his hands raised as if he were waiting for her to fall, astonished as well. Hermione looked around again and put a hand on her chest, feeling her heart calm down after the horrible scare the battle had given her, then frowned hard. She had to learn to control her nerves, Merlin. "Did the Death Eaters leave? How long was I unconscious? That Bellatrix..."
"Hermione," Harry interrupted, raising his eyebrows. Harry's green eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Hermione felt her heart race. Bad news. Harry's expression could only mean bad news. "Is it really you?"
Hermione frowned even more, if that was possible.
"What are you talking about? Did someone drink Polyjuice Potion to impersonate me?" Hermione climbed out of the bath and grimaced at her soaked shoes. Why had she been in a bath in the first place? Hermione looked up at Harry and took a deep breath, feeling a chill as a gust of air hit her and penetrated her skin through her wet clothes. "It's me, of course. Ask me anything you want."
Harry scanned her face with his gaze and swallowed hard.
"What were you looking for when we met?"
Hermione would have rolled her eyes if she hadn't been so eager to catch up on what had happened while she was unconscious. She didn't believe the Death Eaters were still at the school, given that Harry would have been eager to continue the battle. It had happened before that they had fainted or been injured and still had to continue fighting immediately. That had been the case in the battle at the Ministry.
"Neville's frog," Hermione replied. "Seriously, Harry, it's me. Now tell me, what did the Death Eaters want? Wait! I was going to tell you, but you didn't give me a chance! It was Malfoy who let them through the Room of Requirement! I don't know how he did it, but that's what he was..."
"Hermione."
"That idiot must have known what a crazy thing he was doing. Have you seen my wand? Merlin, I need to dry myself off." Hermione put her hands in her wet pockets and felt over her clothes, but she couldn't feel her wand anywhere. She looked around, across the library floor, but she couldn't see it either. In fact, the floor was clean. There was nothing but the tub and the drops of water she herself was dripping. Hermione stopped looking at the floor. "Harry?"
Harry didn't answer, and she turned slowly.
Harry had a beard.
"The crystals," she said quietly.
He took a breath, and his tired, sad, bright, older eyes found her.
"The crystals?" he asked, but it wasn't the voice Hermione had heard that same day. It was deeper, more hoarse.
"When Bellatrix was here, she broke all the windows, there were... crystals all over the floor and... books and... she..." Hermione stopped, her breathing stopped, her heart stopped. There were no crystals on the floor, and Harry had a beard, wore a brown coat over a black shirt, his hair combed to one side, his eyes bright, green, and older. Hermione gasped and put a hand to her chest, feeling the realisation wash over her body and her strength leave her. It was fortunate that Harry was extremely attentive to her, because she didn't even have to call out to him before he held her in his arms and hugged her tightly, forcing her to stay on her feet. Hermione gasped for air, but her throat closed up and it hurt to get the words out, but she did her best. "Harry... What... what happened? What...?"
Harry held her tightly, and she felt the caress of a drying spell and then a warming spell. Hermione sank into Harry's embrace, smelling his cologne and fireplace ashes.
"Calm down, Hermione, breathe," he said, and then whispered, trying to calm her down, but also trying to convince himself, "You're fine, everything's fine. Breathe, you can do it."
Hermione took a deep breath, but she couldn't calm down. Anxiety gathered in her chest along with a bunch of questions she needed answers to.
She pulled away from Harry and took two steps back.
She looked at her friend, and for the first time since she had woken up in that tub full of water, she realised how big he was. He wasn't the boy she had met in the middle of the duels when the Death Eaters had entered Hogwarts. She remembered seeing him pass by, he had asked her where Malfoy was and then he had run off, passing between curses and Death Eaters. Back then, Harry had been practically the same size as her, without a beard, with messy black hair and wild eyes. Now he was... a man.
Time.
Time had moved on.
Hermione clenched her hands into fists.
So she had been unconscious, or petrified. The memory of a green ray tormented her and she closed her eyes tightly.
She took three deep breaths before opening her eyes again.
"How long?" she asked.
"Hermione..."
"No, Harry! You're a man! A man! And the last thing I remember about you is that... you left us the Felix Felicis and went with Dumbledore, and then in the middle of all the duelling, you asked me about Malfoy. Less than an hour ago! And you were a boy! Not this man in front of me!" Hermione pointed at him with both hands, exasperated, feeling anxiety build up in her eyes in the form of tears and questions fill her mouth, and she needed answers. She needed to know what was going on, and she needed to know right then and there. "Time passed, didn't it?"
Harry closed his eyes, but nodded before opening them again.
"Hermione, wouldn't you rather go somewhere else...?"
"No," she said flatly and took a deep breath, summoning the courage to demand the answers she needed but was terrified to hear. "Tell me, Harry, how much time has passed?"
Harry ran his hands through his hair, just as exasperated as she was. He ruffled his hair, but even then Hermione could not see the sixteen-year-old Harry she had seen that afternoon. Or a thousand afternoons ago.
He focused his eyes on her and replied.
"Seven years."
Hermione nodded first. She breathed. She breathed. She brea... Anxiety exploded when she tried to smile. It choked her. Her throat closed and tears came with sobs as she closed her eyes tightly and brought her hands to her chest. It hurt.
"Seven... seven..." she tried to speak, but couldn't, and again she felt Harry's arms around her, but even that couldn't stop her from giving in and ending up kneeling on the floor, where Harry joined her.
"Breathe, breathe," Harry comforted her from behind, stroking her with his open hand, inviting her to breathe. "That's it, like that, calmly."
Hermione curled up on his chest, crying.
Seven years.
Seven years was too long.
In seven years, if there was no longer a war, she planned to have an important job at the Ministry. She had not yet decided on the department, nor did she know if she wanted to be on track to become Minister for Magic. She had not made a final decision about what to do with her life because she still had a war to win. In seven years, she would be a woman. She did not plan to marry young, but she planned to live her life as it should be lived and meet boys, if Ron did not make up his mind and... so many things.
So much time.
Time.
"The war..." Hermione choked on the lump in her throat. "My parents..."
"It's over, Hermione, the war is over. Voldemort is dead, we won. Your parents are fine, Hermione, everything is fine." Harry held her tightly against his chest, stroking her hair and back, calming her.
Hermione hiccupped with fear.
"Ronald..."
"Ron is fine."
However, she felt no relief.
"Did anyone we know... die?" she managed to ask, her voice trembling, but when seconds passed and Harry didn't answer, it was as if a void opened up inside her. She didn't want to know, she didn't want to know anything.
"Calm down, calm down," Harry rocked her when she started crying again.
She didn't know if she was crying more for the time lost or for the deaths that were still unknown to her. The fact was that it hurt, and it was a fresh wound that cut across her entire heart and grew larger every time the name of one of the people she loved crossed her mind and she considered the possibility that they might be dead.
It took several minutes before she could speak again.
"What happened to me? Did they petrify me?"
A green ray.
There was a green ray.
Hermione closed her eyes.
Harry took several deep breaths and Hermione clenched her fists on his shirt, feeling the warmth of his comforting body.
"No, Hermione, you were killed."
