Voldemort's voice echoed in his ears and he struggled not to let anything show on his face. If he was going to die, by Merlin, he would do it with some bloody dignity. He raised his chin and stared into those red eyes, waiting for the spell he knew was coming.

Voldemort's head was still tilted, his eyebrow raised in a silent question. But Harry refused to cower, not now, and certainly not to him. He focused on his breathing, trying to drown out all the thoughts that were bouncing around in his head. Seconds felt like hours, but the stillness lasted only for a moment. Voldemort's arm burst into motion and a flash of green lit up the sky.

Time passed, but he had no idea how long it was before consciousness returned to him. It could have been seconds or maybe even days, but to Harry, he might as well have just blinked. Everything felt heavy and his head was pounding, but he was awake, albeit barely.

It took him a moment to put aside the pain and really pay attention to the world around him. Suddenly, he realized just how cold he was, and that his head was resting on something soft. He could hear the faint sound of sobbing from somewhere above him, but everything seemed so distant and far away.

He opened his eyes, blinking against the sudden rush of light and colors before a familiar mane of bushy hair filled his vision.

"Thank God your awake! I tried calling your name, but you wouldn't stir. Professor Lupin had to use a reviving charm." Hermione said frantically, her face barely a foot above his.

"Mione?" His voice came out hoarse and his throat felt scratchy. Why is Hermione here?

"Shhh, I'm here Harry." He felt her fingers gently carting through his hair and he leaned into her hands before she could pull away.

He cracked his eyes open again and looked up at her. Her curls fell about her face like a halo and even with her damp cheeks and rumpled uniform, she still managed to make his heart speed up a bit. "You look beautiful 'Mione, I can't believe I never told you that before."

Her cheeks darkened with a blush and she bit her lip. "You must have hit your head pretty hard if your calling me beautiful Harry."

He rolled his eyes, "I've always thought you were beautiful, I just didn't know how to say it… When did you put on your robes? Where are we? The last thing I remember was…" He couldn't bring himself to say it, not to her.

"It was a dementor Harry. It came into the compartment and you just collapsed. Your scar started bleeding horribly and I didn't know what to do. Merlin I was so scared, thankfully Professor Lupin was able to drive it off… Don't you ever do that again, I thought you bloody died on me!"

"A dementor?" He rubbed his forehead, trying to think more clearly. Had it all just been a nightmare?

"They're the guards for Azkaban, the wizard prison. Professor Lupin said it was looking for Sirius Black." He felt Hermione grab his wrist and start twisting it to get a better look. He hardly noticed, still trying to puzzle through her last comment. Why would dementors be searching for a dead man? "Harry James Potter, when did you get a tattoo?!"

"What?" He looked over and felt his heart stop in his chest. There, on his wrist, was the symbol of the deathly hallows. Suddenly everything clicked into place. Professor Lupin, the Dementor, Sirius on the run… Bloody hell, what does all this mean- and do I really want to know? Were the hallows some form of time magic? Is that what this is? I refuse to believe that I'm some kind of master over death, and certainly not just because I found a few artifacts… I mean, it's possible that it was all just a figure of speech anyway. Getting a second chance at things can certainly be considered "mastering" death… Right?

He took a deep breath, he needed to say something, but the truth sounded utterly insane. He knew he could convince her if he tried, but he wasn't sure if he even wanted to. Did he have a right to put that kind of burden on her shoulders? Would she view him differently?

He could work out the details later, for now, he needed to give his friend a more reasonable explanation. "I'm sorry Hermione, it was a spur of the moment decision. You see, it's a symbol that's associated with death in the wizarding world. To me, it represented the sacrifice my parents made for me, and I wanted to use it to honor them. I know it was stupid and reckless, but it was important to me. Please forgive me?"

She visibly bit back whatever retort she was going to say. "What's done is done. I forgive you Harry, but don't think we won't be talking about this later… I won't yell, I won't nag, but we will talk. If this is something that means that much to you, I want to know more about it. Deal?"

He couldn't help but smile, even when she was furious, she still supported him. "Deal, but only if we can stay like this a little longer."

She smiled and rolled her eyes, "Really Harry, being cute won't work on me." Regardless, she gently ran her fingers over his cheek before going back to playing with his hair. "This is only because you're injured," she muttered under her breath.

i {o,o}
i /) ')
i -"-"-

AN: So, I promise I'm not abandoning my other stuff, I just haven't been in the mood to write lately. I had gotten about halfway through the next chapter for The Mage of Eyrie when I had to help my mom move out of her house. Then COVID became a national issue and it's just been fairly depressing overall. My muse wasn't cooperating unfortunately. This is a story idea that I've been toying with for a while and I wanted to give a whirl, hopefully you'll like it!

UPDATE: So, I decided to extend the interaction with Hermione a little bit, try to make it feel more emotional. I also played around with the wording on his interaction with Voldemort, tried to make it feel less clunky. Lastly, I threw in that bit about Sirius to make more of a connection to his time-magic theory.