It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie. It's the moment to live and the moment to die. - Thirty Seconds to Mars.

...

Hogwarts 2 May 1998 –

The wind howled slowly, creaking the limbs of old trees. The crackling of rocks hitting the dust of the ground echoed over the quiet. The smell of death, blood, and fear lingered in the air. Bodies – dismembered, bleeding, and broken - were spread across the grounds. Some people were alive but hovering on the edge of death. Others lay hidden beneath the rubble, keeping their eyes closed and steadying their breaths in hopes they'd go unnoticed by him.

The cold laughter was the only sound of life. His victory was won at the demise of the bodies at his feet. "What a wondrous triumph we've had here today," he glorified – the life of the dead seeped through his lips. "Wouldn't you agree?" Tremors of fear went without recognition as his followers nodded their acceptance of their Dark Lord's retribution. "I can't hear you!" he raised his voice – holding a white, scaly hand to his would-be ears.

"Yes, My Lord!" the crowd gathered.

"Your victory is honourable, My Lord!" A strong voice called.

"That's what I thought..." he hissed, his voice like a snake, icy and eerie. His bare feet walked amongst the rubble without the stab of pointy edges impaling his skin. He stopped at a body and glared down upon it. She could feel him, smell him, and she hoped like hell he'd dismiss her. Her hopes were diminished once his cold foot pressed into her arm and pushed her over easily. The sudden movement opened her eyes and she looked into the scarlet slits staring back at her. "Looks like we have a survivor... what to do with you?" his forked tongue licked over his makeshift lips; sharp teeth smiled cruelly down at her.

Bracing for the man to kill her – she was saved by a woman's voice. "We will take her, Your Grace." The girl looked over to find it belonged to Narcissa Malfoy. Her tone had confidence and restraint. Her husband looked at his wife appallingly – wondering why she would bother with the Mudblood, but he didn't dare speak of it – he knew she would have her reasons. He glanced to Draco, and saw confusion in his son's grey eyes. Lucius curved a hand over his son's shoulder and squeezed out his anger, surely leaving bruises.

Voldemort didn't think on it. He knew the Malfoys and their antics were bound to be good to his cause – "Very well... I assume you will use her for... pleasure?" he laughed, forcing the crowd to join him in the mock humour.

Narcissa forcibly let out a flutter of her own laughter, "Yes, My Lord. Pleasure, indeed." She bowed her head. The woman on the ground gulped when she heard this – what would the Malfoys want with her? "Draco, be a dear – bring her to us," Narcissa gestured with her head nodding toward the wounded witch.

The quiet of her surroundings was the loudest thing she had ever heard – she swore her eardrums would explode at the drop of sweat hitting her boot. Feeling Draco's hands on her own, she stood weakly and looked into his eyes. They were fearful and grotty. He didn't say anything to her, but his sorrow was clear. He weakly pushed her forward toward his family. Lucius and Narcissa held their heads high, not paying any mind to the girl being forced into their presence. The Dark Lord excused the family for their noble deed and allowed them to go home. The Malfoy family bowed in appreciation toward their leader, leaving with the girl in tow.

...

Malfoy Manor –

It had only been a month ago that she was last in the place. It was still cold and dark as her memories. The remnants of the broken chandelier were no longer on the floor and as far as she knew, no prisoners were held captive, aside from her. Her amber eyes scanned over the room and landed in the spot where she was tortured by her hostess' sister, Bellatrix Lestrange – a strange echo of her screams was heard by her ears alone. Was this some sort of cruel, sick joke they were playing on her? She didn't notice Draco watching her – just as uncomfortable and wondering the same thing.

House-Elves popped into the room, greeting their Masters. One had a silver tray with a teapot and mugs, the other held a tray of small sandwiches. "You must be hungry," she heard Narcissa say. Her body was starving for food, yet she couldn't imagine eating anything in that moment – let alone with the Malfoys. She wanted to say yes – but how could she, when she didn't know the underlying reason for Narcissa's request?

The woman kindly lead her toward the table with a light tap to her back. "Sit."

Hermione swallowed hard at the gesture. Surely, they weren't going to hurt her if they were offering food from their Great Pureblood Kitchen.

And though he was an insufferable prat at all times – he was still a gentleman and noble; Draco took the chair Hermione was staring at and pulled it out from beneath the table, waiting for her to sit. Hermione avoided eye contact, but gave a quick nod and sat. Her classmate moved to the chair alongside of her and poured her and himself a cup of tea.

She heard Narcissa and Lucius behind them, but didn't dare to turn around to listen even though her mind begged to. The couple was talking in hushed tones – then left the room with subtle taps of their feet across the marble floor.

"What am I doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione whispered sharply toward the blond.

He shrugged weakly and said just as quietly, "I don't know, Granger. But my mum wouldn't have invited you here if she didn't have a reason."

She knew this much was true. The Malfoy family always had a plan – however, Narcissa wasn't just a Malfoy, she was a Black; that could mean anything... good or bad. She accepted the tea from Draco. "Erm, thanks."

He hissed, "It's not like I'm going to bite you, Granger. You can relax."

"I'll relax once I know why I am here." she bit back.

The pair sat quietly until Narcissa and Lucius came to the table. Hermione had managed to eat one sandwich during their absence and was about to start on a second when they sat down. She set the buttie back to the plate and was surprised when the Lady of the home told her to go on. "We're not going to hurt you, Miss Granger," she said. Narcissa's voice was quiet and kind – still confident as it was when she spoke to Voldemort, but with less enthusiasm. The war hadn't been kind to her. She had a bruised eye and the skin beneath her nose was stained red from dried blood. Still, the woman held herself with such nobility that even a king would be impressed.

Hermione felt herself nod, "As much as I appreciate your saving me, Mrs. Malfoy, I must ask... what am I doing here?" She felt Draco perk up beside her.

Draco knew his father's loathing for Mudbloods... but was he really to take this woman and use her for... he tried to gulp the thought away. Pleasure...

Lucius's cold eyes turned to her. "Miss Granger, we have done many things in this war that we do not feel proud of," he spoke deeply, still with the same icy expression. "I know that this must come as a shock to you, but we found our indifference to the cause much too late." The tea cup clanked against the small plate as he set it down. "We need your help in changing that."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Why on this earth would the Malfoys be asking for a Muggleborn's help? "I don't understand what you mean by this? What is it exactly that I am supposed to do?" The realisation hit her much harder than she intended it to. All of her friends were dead and she had no one to lean upon – no one to help her fight. Except for maybe Draco, but who's to say he was really good? "I can't work alone." she managed to say, fighting back the tears that were desperate to fall.

Seeming to ignore the worry, Narcissa began, "we are aware that you had used a Time-Turner back in your third year; Draco informed us when he used one for the same reasons." Hermione had known this– she, Theodore Nott, Draco, and Ernie Macmillan were the only ones with Ministry approval for the usage towards academic purposes.

"Correct..." Hermione said slowly.

"We were also aware that you had kept yours for much longer than intended to help a cousin of mine survive and escape a certain Kiss of Death." Hermione gulped. That was supposed to be unknown to all except for her, Harry, Dumbledore and Sirius – three of whom were dead. "You see, I had suggested taking you in as a way of marking us neutral now that the war is over. The Dark Lord didn't want much with us anyway after the events at Hogwarts and Draco's failure in killing Dumbledore."

Hermione glanced to the man sitting beside her. His jaw was locked and his eyes stared hard at the table. It wasn't a failure in her eyes.

"He said that it'd take a lot for us to be back in his good graces. You are that good grace." Narcissa steepled her fingers toward Hermione.

"Me? I'm sorry Mrs. Malfoy, I am afraid that I still do not understand where you're off to with this..." Hermione felt herself tremble.

Mrs. Malfoy really had a beautiful smile, even if she was using it for evil, Hermione thought.

"As you are aware, the Ministry had all of the time-turners destroyed, yes?" Narcissa asked.

"Mm."

"All except for one." Narcissa pulled a chain from the inside of her dress pockets. "An unknown one." This Time-Turner had a body of white gold. It hadn't the white sand that was the usual in the centre, but sparkling silver. "This has been passed on through many generations of my family – the Black Family," she smirked at her husband's ignorance, "and it so happens to have landed in my hands many moons ago." The woman set it on the table. Everyone stared at the jewelry. Hermione was lost for words. "My sister doesn't know about it – she thinks it was lost around the time our mother passed. For many reasons I don't wish to share, she need not know of its existence. Our was one of the first ever made; the others are just mock-ups - they don't do what this does."

"Mother – are you asking for Hermione to go back into time?" Draco asked suddenly. "Like more time than... natural?"

Hermione wanted to berate him for even thinking time travel was natural, but she knew that this was not the time or place.

Narcissa looked to her husband, who cleared his throat and sighed, "yes. We were going to send Cissa back to try and fix things if Voldemort won. However, we weren't sure of the repercussions due to her being present in that period. When she saw Miss Granger alive – the solution came to her. She could fix it all," he nodded his head toward Hermione – her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Me? Why? How far back are you wishing me to go?" Hermione asked – her mind raced one hundred kilometers an hour.

"1979 – So, eighteen years." Narcissa said gently.

"Eigh-eighteen years... that can't be possible."

"Oh, the explanation of time-nonsense is too hard to even consider getting into, just now," she waved, "it is possible. This charm is much different than the one you're used to. It has been kept secret because even the Blacks know that there are terrible hands that this could fall into."

Hermione frowned."Like your sister."

Narcissa shuddered, bowing her head all the same. "Exactly like my sister."

Hermione stared down at her hands. She reckoned there wasn't much she could say to this – if she said no, Lord Voldemort would surely find out that she isn't being used as a servant or a play-thing. What was it she had to lose now? She hadn't anything left here... No Harry, no Ron. "How would you deal with the repercussions if your Dark Lord comes calling?"

The blonde spread her hands over the table, her nails were no longer perfectly painted red and they appeared much thinner than they should. "That is just something you needn't worry about, Miss Granger, for there is nothing you could do."

Bollocks! "How would you explain my disappearance? Wouldn't you be afraid that your leader will try to hurt you... or even worse, Draco?" Hermione looked between Draco's parents. Her concern for her classmate was odd, but she boiled it down to having nothing in the world – only one familiar thing remained, and that was him.

Narcissa stood from her chair and rounded the table to kneel beside Hermione. This woman, who once held herself at such a noble standard was now on the same level as she – a Mudblood. Dirty Blood. She wrapped the palm of her hand over the latter witch's cheek; it was cold, nimble. "Please, dear, do not fear what is unnecessary. If you don't want to do this, we won't force you. I am asking – because right now, you are our only hope in saving everything. That includes Mr. Potter, the Weasleys... Dumbledore, Sirius..." The way she said her cousins name was telling, but of what, Hermione couldn't decipher.

"Why would I need to go back three years before Voldemort even attacks the Potter Family?"

Narcissa shook her head, "That isn't something I feel I should disclose, because I can't tell you all of what the past holds for you. What I can say is, the past holds all of our future, Miss Granger. Are you willing to go?"

Her shoulders dropped and her head hung weakly. "I suppose I have to – if it's... if you think it's going to save everything." She stared at her grey boots. She didn't see the wanton smile that played over Narcissa's lips... or the satisfaction in Lucius's eyes.

Lucius cleared his throat, "We will provide you with necessary funds to get yourself appropriated as well as living expenses, as we won't be needing it."

Draco jerked his head toward his father. "What?"

Narcissa stood from her point beside Hermione and stretched her hand out to her son. "We believe as soon as Miss Granger leaves, we will be put at a stand-still. We will only just exist, perhaps into nothingness."

"You mean – we... die?" his voice faltered with fear.

Narcissa shook her head, "No. We just simply won't be, Love."

Hermione stood from her seat abruptly. To this family, it'd seem rude but she didn't care too much for manners at the moment. Taking in her surroundings she asked, "Where's your bathroom?"

Narcissa looked her over warily then nodded, "Just down the hall there and to the left."

Hermione's feet carried her quickly to her destination. As soon as she was inside, she slammed the door behind her and paced to the toilet. She cowered over it and spewed every last bit of the sandwich and tea right inside the bowl, along with bile and panic. Falling back to the heels of her boots, she let out a choked, silent sob. She closed her eyes, but still the tears fell over her lashes to her mouth, stinging her chapped lips with salt.

Sweat dripped over her forehead and down her cheeks as she faced the facts: Her best friends had died. Voldemort has won. The good side was defeated. She replayed the moment of Ron running before a curse heading her way – striking him right in the chest. The sound of a bloodthirsty laugh rang in her ears. Shakily, she rubbed the rim of her jacket sleeve over her mouth. Leaning against the toilet, she buried her head between her knees and cried. Cried for all that was lost and for all that would be. She wanted to disappear – she wanted to die. So perhaps disappearing into the past wouldn't be so bad.

A faint knock reached her, pulling her from her thoughts. She wiped her cheeks, and rubbed her nose puffy. "C-come in." she said throatily. She expected Narcissa, but was surprised to find that it was... "Draco?"

"Granger, what are you doing on the floor?" he asked, almost sounding as if he was feeling sorry for her. Almost.

She sniffled and rolled her eyes, "What's it look like, Malfoy?"

He moved to sit beside her, pulling a knee close to his chest. "It looks like you're crying and - from the smell of it – being sick." He scrunched his nose.

She scoffed, "Well, you're right about that."

He placed a hand awkwardly on her back and patted? Rubbed?

She grimaced at him with furrowed brows, "What exactly are you doing?"

He jerked his hand away and shrugged. "I'm scared too, you know? When you leave, it'll be as if I've never existed. And what's the world to be like without Draco Malfoy?" he said with all seriousness in his tone.

Hermione looked sideways at him, dumbfounded. "Is that really all you're worried about? Malfoy so many people died... your friends even... and you're worried about your own existence? God! You're such a prat."

He ran his hands over his face, leaving a dirty trail from his brows to his chin. "That was my way of... making light of the situation, Granger."

"Well, you're not very good at it, are you?" she said smartly.

He sighed, "No. I... Sorry."

She didn't answer but nodded – if she said anything else, she'd break down all over again.

...

An hour passed, or maybe two. They sat in silence for a while until Draco finally asked if she was going to take the chance in going back. She answered with a low, "I have to, don't I?" He shrugged and said she didn't – they'd make it through Hell he supposed. She sighed and nodded, "I only wish I could know more of why I need to go back."

"Well, I know you're a know-it-all Granger, but sometimes you just can't know everything," he smirked at her grief. "I'm sure you'll do fine, either way."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she finally asked.

"Because, as much as I thought I hated Potter – I have realised that I didn't and I'm not saying he and I would have gotten along because that's a very long stretch ...but if all this blood purity shit didn't go on, I could've lived a life with a lot less hate in it." He nudged her shoulder with his. "You and I might've even been friends."

Hermione snorted. "Not likely. As you are incorrigible. But, I'd much rather have less ill-will toward you and a likable Draco might not be so bad."

He scoffed, "Pfft. I was only saying that just to see what you'd say, Granger." He rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat, "When you go back though, make sure my parents do fall in love, will you?"

"Malfoy, I can't promise you anything, but I'll do what I can."

It was his turn to snort, "That doesn't sound very Granger-like. Usually you don't try – you just do."

Until that moment, she was unsure if she would be capable of smiling ever again, but one did ghost over her lips. "You're not so bad at pep talks – where were you before N.E.W.T.s? Because that's when I really needed someone to tell me I'd do well."

He snorted, "You literally, and when I say literally – I mean it – had every single professor telling you that you'd do just fine."

She smiled, "but, they are supposed to say that."

The door to the bathroom re-opened and in came the woman of the house. She was changed into clean clothes and her hair was plaited to the side. "Are you feeling all right, Miss Granger?" she asked.

Hermione nodded, "As well as I can, and please... call me Hermione."

Narcissa smiled, "Come, let's get you something clean to wear and a bath. We can go over everything in a bit."

Hermione stood, turning to hold a hand out to Draco to help him from the floor. He took it – pausing to look between his and her hands; they were both covered in dirt, dried blood, and grime, and it would forever stay with him that they were one and the same.

...

Malfoy Manor 3 May 1998

Hermione woke with a start, pulling her wand into a tight fist from beneath her pillow. She was ready for defense if the situation called for it. Sitting up, she realised that she wasn't in the Forest of Dean like her dreams had portrayed – she was actually in a bedroom in a comfortable daybed and dressed in pyjamas, rather than denim and t-shirts. She observed the room. Portraits of villages were hung, tall bookshelves were lavished with reading material in every size. The room itself was painted a nice light blue. A small square door in the corner of the room caught her eye as it squeaked opened and out came an elf, carrying a tray with breakfast tarts and tea. She recognized it as the one that had brought out the sandwiches the night before.

The elf hadn't noticed Hermione watching and went about its business by setting out clothes and situating the curtains for sunshine (though it couldn't have been later than four in the morning). She had half a heart to tell it not to bother with such chores, but she knew better nowadays not to fuss with the help. Just before the elf slid from the room, Hermione caught its attention. "Excuse me, could you tell me the time?"

The elf jumped half a metre in the air, "I'm so sorry, Mistress! Siggy didn't mean to disturb you!" She bowed so low that the tip of her nose touched the floor.

Hermione frowned, "No, no, you didn't. I'm so sorry for frightening you."

Siggy's eyes widened at the apology.

Hermione dropped her feet to the floor, "I only wanted to know the time. I assume I've got to get a move on with the day." The smell from the tray was inviting and her stomach rumbled loudly, causing Siggy to look up. Pulling a pocket-watch from inside of her -actually baby-doll, nice, dress, the little elf clicked it open. "It's half past five, Mistress. Mistress should eat!"

Hermione managed a small smile and nodded, "Thank you, Siggy." The elf own grinned with watery eyes. Bowing once more, she said, "You're welcome, Mistress. It's always Siggy's honour to serve you."

Hermione wasn't sure what that was about, but she excused the elf and spooned two sugars into the welcoming tea. As she grabbed for a pasty, she noticed a small note card with her name elegantly scrawled upon it.

Hermione,

Lucius and Draco are off to Gringotts at six. Would you care to join me at six-thirty in the dining hall?

Narcissa

She set the card back to the tray and reached for the decadent treat she had so keenly been sniffing. The outfit set out for her was not something she'd wear on a normal day – or, ever. It was unique and very... seventies. A green and black plaid skirt that would button right above her navel and a sleeveless shirt which, she was sure, she'd have to tuck inside of the waist. She really didn't want to remove her night clothes and she could already hear the teasing that would come from Draco's mouth once he saw her in such ghastly apparel. Leaving the clothes where they were for now, she turned back to her tea and looked over the array of books.

By the time she was finished with her breakfast and flitting through the pages of an old storybook, Hermione noticed the sun was starting to peek through the windows, casting a pretty pink hue over the walls, creating a lavender hue. Setting her cup down, she sauntered back to the outfit she desperately despised and began to slip on the black stockings.

The skirt sat three inches or so above her knees, much shorter than her school uniform; it was definitely something Pansy Parkinson would wear. A quick twirl around before the mirror, she sighed. Her waist was much smaller than it had ever been. Oh, how her mum would fuss at her weight loss. She smiled sadly and promised her mother – wherever she may be - that once she got the chance, she'd eat an Archies' burger and a strawberry milkshake. Readying herself to meet Narcissa, she opened the door and walked down the quiet halls to the dining room.

Mrs. Malfoy was already dressed and looked to have been up for hours – or perhaps not even been to sleep yet. She was busying herself with items that were spread out over the table. Hermione cleared her throat, having the woman turn to greet her. Her blue eyes were sad and tired. "Did you rest any?"

"I did... well... sort of," she stated plainly. She was well aware that sleep was for the dead.

"I know how you feel. I couldn't close my eyes for more than thirty minutes at a time. Finally at three, I got up and began my day. Lucius was just the same. He and Draco just left for the bank to get you money."

Hermione nodded and looked over the things on the table, "What's all this?" she asked.

"I've a bag of clothes for you, here, it'll get you through the first week or so; I didn't want to wear you down. This is a diagram of my family tree... that way you can familiarise yourself... in case you come across us...I am hoping it'll fall into place for you. Perhaps it'll be easy."

"How are you sure I can change the past?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"I didn't think it would work, I only ever heard stories – but you were able to save Sirius from death."

"Speaking of! How did you know that?" Hermione asked.

Narcissa's brows furrowed, "Know what?"

"That I helped Sirius escape..."

"Oh," she said in sudden understanding. "Kreacher. You see he was the old elf for Grimmauld Place for as long as I can remember. Well, he was Regulus' servant, really. Anyway, he told me. After Sirius's passing, Mr. Potter had told Kreacher to leave and he came to the next of kin which was a Black. Bella was in Azkaban, and seeing as Andromeda has nothing to do with the family, that meant Kreacher's logic was to land with me. He told us many secrets..." Hermione could see that Narcissa felt ashamed. The war made people do horrible things. When one has the will to survive, they'll do whatever is necessary to make sure the ones around them do, no matter the cost. It's much like suffocating: the body is desperate for air, but no matter how many breaths it tries to take, the lungs just collapse. The power of pressure is stronger than it can withstand.

Hermione wanted to reach out and touch Narcissa's shoulder or show some sort of comfort, but she knew that Malfoys didn't like to be pitied. Words would have to do instead. "It'll be okay, Mrs Malfoy. I'll do whatever it takes." The woman plastered a fake smile over her lips and accepted her declaration.

The hearth of the dining room lit up an emerald green. Draco stepped through, followed by his father. They both dusted their robes of ash and soot and greeted the women in the room. "Hello, dear," Lucius gretted, pressing his lips against his wife's cheek.

Hermione didn't dare look at Draco, knowing he had stupid smirk on his face over her outfit.

"All went well?" Narcissa asked of her husband, handing him a cup of tea.

"Oh, yes." He held out a slip to Hermione. She reluctantly took it. "This is your money. You will just give it to the bank when you go back... as you see here," he pointed on the dotted line on the corner of the sheet, "It's anonymously written, so you won't face any questions for the amount or whom it came from when you'll be depositing into your account." Hermione tried her best to not look at the amount written, but her curiosity overruled her. It had to have been close to everything the Malfoys had.

"Um... Mr Malfoy... I don't mean to be rude, because I appreciate the gesture, but you don't think this is too much?"

"Granger, that was barely a dent into our vaults." Draco said before his father could answer. Lucius nodded and bit his tongue to not gripe at his son's boasting.

Weariness crossed Hermione's features, though she nodded her appreciation. "All – all right, well, thank you. I am ever so grateful. Honestly, it'll probably last me the rest of my life." That was being modest. "Mrs Malfoy, do you happen to have a small bag? I seemed to have lost mine during everything." The fact of which really peeved her to no end. It had some of her most treasured items within it.

Narcissa nodded, "Yes. Siggy!"

"Mistress called for Siggy?"

"Yes, would you bring Miss Granger a small handbag?" The elf bowed, left, and reappeared once more, all within a matter of seconds. It was a purple handbag, much like the one she'd had. She gathered her wand from her pocket and performed the Undetectable Extension Charm over it.

Narcissa smiled rather knowingly at the usage and handed over the documents she had gathered for the journey. Hermione placed the bank note inside, tucking it away safely. Draco picked the bag up from the table after his classmate finished packing it and found it wasn't heavy at all. Hermione shook her head in amusement at Draco's bewilderment. "So, when do I go?" she asked.

"As soon as you're ready." Narcissa answered. "It'd be best to go soon though, as we don't know if the Dark Lord will be... making an appearance."

...

Diagon Alley 1998 May 3

Diagon Alley was quiet and dark. She could only imagine what Knockturn Alley was looking like by now. There was no laughter or joy in her surroundings. It was dreary and grey, like a storm could settle at any moment. The nose from the face of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes shop was broken, and its windows were shattered. There were scorch marks all over the town. Broken glass dusted the cobblestone; chairs were overturn. It was a terrible setting.

The Malfoys decided this was the best place for her to travel in time; to fall into place easily without anyone noticing her indifference. Hermione felt that same curdling inside her stomach from last night before she threw it all up in the toilet. She breathed in the cool air in hopes she could bury it away. "I don't know how to thank you for all of this," she said to the three blondes looking at her.

All were desperate, fearful; much different from their usual proud persona. Surely it was the end of the world to see a Malfoy in such a way. They nodded, "It is you that we should be thanking," Narcissa said.

Draco stepped forward to the girl he had known for eight years. She would be making his world a better place – and everything he knew of himself would no longer be once she left. It scared him, it made him sick, but he knew in the end it'd all be okay – and he'd still be... even if it wasn't here. He would be alive and free and hopefully without the hate that had been instilled into him since birth. "I wish you the best of luck." he said. Before she could process what was happening next, he had his arms wrapped around her, which made the whole thing even more terrifying. She reluctantly brought her own arms up and hugged him back, harder than she intended, but it felt... right.

"I'll be seeing you, Granger." he whispered against her hair. The only comfort she had in the world was this and it was about to disappear all over again. She didn't say anything as she stepped away from the familiar surge of tears which sat right beneath her waterline. He positioned the purple bag over her shoulder – not much caring for how his father was observing the scene before him.

Hermione may be going back to save the world, but status of her blood would always be written into Lucius Malfoy's brain. Narcissa withdrew the Time-Turner and placed it over the girl's neck. Hermione gathered it in her hands and noticed the inscription on it for the first time: Toujurs Pur – I mark the hours, every one. Nor have I yet outrun the Sun. My use and value unto you are gauged by what you have to do.

"Eighteen turns," Narcissa whispered. "I can't wait to meet you, Hermione Granger." She smiled sadly as a tear dripped down her cheek. She stepped back and took her son's shoulders beneath her arms. Hermione didn't take her eyes from the family. She wanted to wave, but any movement would surely make her sick. She counted with every turn, the day became night and night became day. It rained, it snowed; warmth then cold. The emotional turmoil was almost too much, she wanted to stop the spinning but her destination was in hindsight. With one final turn – it stopped. She was there – here. She stepped into the world of 1979.

...

"Mother," Draco said, as he watched Hermione fade out of existence.

"Yes, son?" Narcissa turned to him.

"Did you know Hermione once before now?"

She sighed and nodded. "I didn't know her just as Miss Granger, though. I also knew her as... Hermione Black."

Draco's face fell with wide eyes. "Are you serious?" he asked appallingly.

"As Sirius Black." Narcissa smiled, gathering her son in her arms.

"Oh, shit."

"Watch your tongue, Draco."

...

A/N: Hey everyone! Chapter one updated: 6.17.20

First and foremost, I will not be posting trigger warnings before chapters. I say this because, when reading a regular book, that isn't something that will be said. So, I will tell you here: There might be unsettling things, perhaps major character death, sexual content, and other mature adult content. This is rated Mature. So, if any of the things I've listed could/would be bothersome – this story isn't for you. However, I don't even know where this is going as of right now. I have an idea, but it's not planned out. When whatever comes to me, I usually jot it down and go with it.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter Characters. However there are some story lines and/or character names that are mine – If you find that you'd like to use them in your own story, shoot me a message and we can talk!

Rating: Mature – Some graphic and adult themes not suitable for children and perhaps under the age of 17.

Fancast: Jared Leto/Sirius Black – Emma Watson/Hermione Granger – Aaron T. Johnson/James Potter – Grant Gustin/Remus Lupin – Evan Peters/Peter Pettigrew – Karen Gillan/Lily Evans Potter – Claire Holt/ Marlene McKinnon – Richard Rankin/Frank Longbottom – Ashley Greene/Alice Longbottom – Lily James/ Narcissa Malfoy – Tom Felton/Draco Malfoy – Cate Blanchett/ Walburga Black – Alan Dale/Orion Black - Kit Harrington/Regulus Black - Cillian Murphy/Tom Riddle, Voldemort

However your imagination is your best friend! This is just my guide that way if you're an imaginative reader, you can see it through my eyes if you wish.

Okay, I think that's about it! I hope you enjoy! Review, follow, share! Lots of love, Blue. Xo

beta'd by: ravenclawmidwife, thank you for all your hard work and keeping my grammar in line.