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The year is 1943, one year after the Chamber of Secrets was opened and an innocent girl was killed. Grindelwald is rampaging across the European mainland on a quest for pureblood supremacy, while Hitler and his Nazi armies are causing death and destruction on a similar quest in the Muggle World.

But one thing has changed. The flow of time has been irrevocably damaged with the entrance of four teenagers into a world where they do not belong. Running from a future where the Dark Lord has won and their savior lies dead, each action they take pulls the strands of time further and further apart.

How much of the future will be changed? Only you decide.


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 So it begins, Draco, Hermione, Ron
Ginny Weasley
Posted: Oct 5 2011, 05:38 PM


Gryffindor 6th year
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((Here we go! I figure we can fill in the backstory as this moves along- so feel free to include anything you want in regards to that. Also, let’s please keep a posting order here so this doesn’t get away from anyone <3))

The swirling, pulling sensation started immediately as Ginny felt her feet wrenched off of the ground, her body feeling like it was plummeting into an abyss. The dank and dark dungeon room they had all been in was swirling around her- faster and faster- and she squeezed her eyes shut as the motion made her stomach roll. She was vaguely aware of voices surrounding her, and flickering lights, but when she reopened her eyes everything was spinning even faster- if that was even possible- and the dungeon room was just a mess of blurred shades of gray and brown. She was vaguely aware of others with her- Ron, Hermione, Malfoy- but there was no way to pinpoint where they were or if she was alone.

Ginny closed her eyes tightly again, reaching out to find something solid to root herself, and found something. If felt like an arm, covered in worn robes from the time spent in the dungeon, but she couldn’t be sure who exactly it belonged to. It didn’t matter. That link was all that connected her to the world right now- and she gripped it hard enough to bruise.

The awful sensation seemed to go on forever. Just as she thought it would never end, it did, and it did so with a heart rendering lurch that slammed her feet back against the ground. Legs giving way underneath her, she collapsed to the floor, half on top of someone that she couldn’t see, and brought her hands to her stomach as the bile rose in her throat.

A few deep, but shaky breaths later, and Ginny was able to crack her eyes open into slits. There was a dungeon wall directly in her line of vision. It looked no different from where she had just been, so what had happened-? There had been a time turner, she knew that much, but weren’t time turners only supposed to send you back an hour each time you turned it? That horrible pulling and spinning that certainly seemed more than a few hours- it had seemed like years. And for that matter, hadn’t all the time turners been destroyed?

Groaning loudly, she clutched her pounding head, still too dizzy to stand back up. “Ron?” she asked weakly, hoping for an answer of any kind. “Hermione?”
^
Ronald Weasley
Posted: Oct 12 2011, 04:26 PM



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Ron had been fairly oblivious to most of what had been happening around him in the dungeons. Memories of the battle still replayed themselves over and over in his head and he was finding it difficult to think of anything else but all the people they had lost. His mum. His brother. Harry. Whatever fate awaited them, it seemed dreary without his best mate. Wasn't he the reason that they had all had the courage to stand up for themselves and fight in the first place?

Ron had been sitting there in silence for a good majority of the time trying his hardest to turn his thoughts to how they could get out of this mess, but failing miserably. He was not the brains of the Trio. Occasionally he would look to Hermione, hoping that she had some secret plan that she just wasn't telling him yet, but he knew that her mind was probably all over the place too. They had all lost Harry.

Apart from Draco bloody Malfoy who would probably be rejoicing if it weren't for the fact that Voldemort had decided that he hated him just as much as the rest of them. Quite frankly, Ron was not enjoying being stuck here with him. In fact he wasn't enjoying being stuck here at all.

But of course, it only got worse.

The last thing Ron remembered was Malfoy playing around with some time turner and them all deciding to jump into the spell. Flaming good idea that was. He hadn't even been sure whose idea it had been actually, but it seemed irrelevant now. All four of them- Hermione, Ginny, Malfoy and himself- were being dragged through decades, and they didn't even know it yet. Ron felt like his body was being pushed and pulled in every imaginable direction and he was grateful when they finally hit the floor. Even if it did bloody hurt.

It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the surroundings. He did feel a little like he wanted to be sick, but he restrained from declaring that to the others. His first thought was that he had lost them all (though he would have been quite grateful to lose Malfoy, actually) but then he heard Ginny's voice and he breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Ginny?" He shuffled slightly on the floor, until he felt his back up against a nearby wall. He allowed his head to fall back onto it. Finally, after several failed attempts before hand, Ron lifted his eyelids open. "What the hell just happened?!" It had been mumbled but he hadn't entirely been expecting an answer. His eyes fell upon the dungeon walls and he groaned. Trust Malfoy to use a broken time turner. He allowed his eyes to clamp shut once more as he took a few tired breaths. "Errr... Hermione? Are you alright?!" He forced his eyes open again and he scanned the area for Hermione. He didn't even care about Malfoy right now.
^
Hermione Granger
Posted: Oct 21 2011, 11:51 PM





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    Hermione was exceedingly familiar with the sensation of flowing through time. Several times a week for eight months, she’d used a time-turner to get to extra classes. She knew what it felt like to be properly propelled back in time, and this was not it. This was too jerky, too harsh, and it took far too long. There was something wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She only hoped they didn’t end up in some sort of parallel universe. There had been several documented cases of --

    “Ooof.” She hit the stone flooring hard, knocking the wind out of her, and then someone else collapsed on top of her. For a second, she struggled to re-inflate her lungs, but once she did the pain began to dissipate. Slowly, Ginny crawled off of her, and Hermione pushed herself up onto her knees, pushing her dirty, unwashed hair out of her eyes. She forced herself to her feet, ignoring the dizziness, and looked around.

    “I’m here,” she said when Ron and Ginny both called for her. “I’m fine, I’m just --” Brow furrowed, she turned once in a circle to take in their location. It was the same dungeon, that was clear, and to be expected. The time-turner had at least worked enough to keep them where they had been, and not propelled them off into Bulgaria.

    The lighting was low, but she could still see. The dungeon was clean, lacking the bars that had been installed by the Death Eaters after the Battle. A wash of panic crashed over her all at once. “Oh, no. Oh, no. What year is this? How far back did we go?!” She began to compulsively massage her left wrist, as though a digital watch bearing the date would appear there. It looked just like Hogwarts always had. Potions class was just down the corridor.

    Two prominent options were forefront in her mind, the first being that it was (luckily) nighttime and therefore they wouldn’t have to worry about students coming out of class and finding a gaggle of dirty teenagers meandering through the corridors. The second was that it was summer holidays, and there was no one in the castle at all. Did Dumbledore spend summers in the castle? Did the professors?

    “Get up,” she urged, moving to help Ron and Ginny stand. Her voice was strained with barely-contained hysteria. “We have to find Professor Dumbledore, and we have to be quick about it. If there’s a professor patrolling the corridors, we can’t be caught. Draco?” She turned, scanning for a flash of platinum blonde.
^
Draco Malfoy
Posted: Oct 23 2011, 07:13 AM



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Despite expecting it, opening his eyes to see the roof of the dungeon that he had been made oh so familiar with made the blonde boy let out a groan of despair. His head was still swimming, and he appeared to be sprawled out on his back if the aches and pains of over stretched muscles lying on a hard surface were anything to go by, but considering the fact tha the had just felt like he had been put through a blender, the peace of silence of the moment was a luxury that he found himself bathing in. And the lack of screams and sobbing was grating on his ears stronger than silence should.

He couldn’t complain about that, however. Despite the insults towards him over the past year and a bit, he knew that he wasn’t an idiot. But even an idiot would have been able to tell that silence was better than the sounds of the tortured at any point in time. Time. He could feel the object in his palm, with his fingers curled around it to form a cage, the chain stretching out from it to loop around his neck and pull it tight against his own body. Lying as he was had apparently tangled it slightly, if the squeezing pressure in his fingers was any indication. Still, he lifted that hand over his eyes, turning it to stare with wide grey eyes at the hourglass shaped pendant.

So plans made in moments of panic and pain and fear did work after all. A smile crept over his face as he rolled over to push himself up off of the cold floor, his head only swimming slightly as he did so. His hand found its way to press against his eyes, containing the aching eyeballs before they could seep from his head in a rush of grey and... and he would not think of how he had seen others do that before, no, no definitely not.

They hadn’t expected to have to implement such plans. When the saviour (such a rubbish name for someone who failed, in his esteemed opinion) had fallen and the Dark Lord had one, Draco and his mother and father had considered themselves to be safe. No matter that they had been in a corner of the hall at the time, pressed into a corner in a huddle, two out of the three wandless and helpless should anyone have turned on them, and him clinging onto his mothers sleeve like a child would after a long period of separation. Two out of the three of them bore the dark mark, after all. No matter that Potter had saved his life, no matter that his mother and father hadn’t fought in the final moments, they had expected to be treated as any other member of the winning side would have.

Perhaps it was the death of Bellatrix that had changed such a view. The mad witch had been well known for her protective nature over her baby sister, over Draco’s mother, after all, and any leader would wish to keep such a mad woman happy. When she fell, to the Weasel brood mare of all people, that protection had fled and they had been too sure of themselves to notice. The realisation that there was no further use for the Malfoy family had only arrived after Draco had seen his father fall in a flash of green to the back, before his eyes.

And yet they hadn’t been killed. Kept together for the most part, him and his mother, wandless and away from the rest of the world. For their money, perhaps. It was with a curl of the lips that Draco had thought such a thing. The Dark Lord who had killed his father had wished for their money. What in the world didn’t revolve around such a thing? But they had been left alone while the original mess was sorted and the traitors were placed in the dungeons. Forgotten about. Unharmed though, and that was the main thing. And those moments of panic for the future had made the calm, collected aura of Narcissa Malfoy break open to reveal her plan to her son.

A plan which had to be attempted a few days later, when the disgusting, filthy creatures that had filled their home and used them as entertainment for more than a year, had come into their little area of safe haven and left with him in their grasp; destination the dungeons. To be locked away amongst those who had actually fought against the dark lord, the people who hated Draco with passion rivalled only by his dead rival. What they had done with his mother, he had only been able to imagine as he had cowered in one of the dark corners, listening to the screams and the accusations and feeling the glares of hatred burning into his back, and praying that each time the door opened it would be in order to deal with him. Until she had arrived, bruised and battered but still with the regalness of a woman of her stature, and slipped her wand and the item between the bars.

And then there had been shouts and yells and bodies colliding with his as his fingers had scrambled to turn the hourglass the correct number of times. Other hands trying to tug it away from him, others pinning him to the floor, but every Malfoy was a stubborn creature and Draco was not one to have let the chance of freedom go that easily. He had been sure his mother had been there, at least. Someone had gripped ahold of his hand after all...

It appeared to have worked. That thought was running around his mind in a cycle, quicker and quicker with each rotation as he managed to reach out with his hand to find a nearby wall before using it to pull himself upwards. It made his head swim, and him have to catch his breath in order not to vomit after doing so, but standing upright in the dark was better than cowering. Well, now that he was sure it was safe, of course.

He was about to open his mouth to whisper out for his mother, his eyes not working yet in the gloom of the stone walled room and unable to spot her, when other voices drifted through the chilled air towards him. They made him freeze, not only because of the cold but also because of the fact that despite the fact that he recognised those voices.. they weren’t the right ones.

His fingers were shaking again, but as they had seemed to do nothing but that for a year or so, it didn’t really enter into Draco’s notice as they wrapped around the familiar wood of his mothers wand. He pulled it out of the pocket of his once elegant and rich trousers (now reduced to little more than tatters after the wonderful attention of some of those monsters), raising it to point in the general direction of the voices (one of which had just called out his name), before uttering a muttered "lumos."

And then the earlier freezing was entirely justified as the light shone out over the bodies of other people. More than one, and not one of them was the one he wanted to see. He stared, wide eyed, taking them all in in their crumpled positions before a tiny whimper rose in his throat to attempt to make it past his lips and his wand hand started shaking a little more “What the hell have you done?” His voice was little more than an icy hiss, like another brush of air moving through the room... and the conviction that this had to be a nightmare flared up in his somewhat disorientated mind.



^
Ginny Weasley
Posted: Oct 23 2011, 11:03 AM


Gryffindor 6th year
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Faces slowly swam into view, and Ginny was beyond relieved to see the shockingly red hair of her brother a bit away. She twisted her head, noticing that Hermione had been the body she landed on, and then glanced around just a bit more and saw Draco Malfoy struggling to his feet. It didn’t matter right now that he was here too. What mattered was that Ron and Hermione had been brought through that torrent with her, and they were both fine. Dazed, but fine and alive. Taking a few deep breaths, the world slowly started to return to normal, and Ginny managed to stand shakily on her feet, instantly leaning against the wall so she didn’t collapse back to the stone floor.

“I’m okay,” she groaned, her voice rusty and still slightly hoarse from all the use it had gotten back in the dungeons of Hogwarts. The Death Eaters hadn’t been above torturing Harry Potter’s friends, and she had felt more than one Cruciatus Curse searing into her skin like a thousand knives during their week in the cell. She had resisted at first, biting through her lip and tasting blood in an effort not to scream. Eventually it had proven too much, and her hoarse voice and sore throat were all indicators of how much she had been subject to the curse. A part of her mind thought she should be thankful that she had only been subject to the Cruciatus. There were no visible scars or bruises on her body, unlike Hermione’s arm where the word mudblood had been carved into it.

Ginny watched as Hermione scanned the room, and could practically see the cogs in her brain churning as they tried to solve this problem. When she started babbling about Professor Dumbledore, and called Malfoy Draco, Ginny knew that her friend had probably hit her head. Either that or she just was too worried , tired, and hungry to be thinking clearly.

“Hermione,” she tried, having to clear her throat to get the longer sentence out successfully, “Professor Dumbledore is dead. You know that. We would have to have gone back a year for him to be alive still, and Time-Turners can’t take you that far. Right…?” Ginny hesitated at the end, her eyes scanning the room and falling on Malfoy, who was back on his feet at this point muttering a shaky lumos.

One year ago Draco Malfoy had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Harry- Harry- had suspected him all along, but no one in authority had listened to his worries. The Death Eaters had stormed the school, and Severus Snape had killed Dumbledore while Malfoy stood and watched. Who knew what he had done for the next year, while Ron and Hermione were off adventuring with Harry, and she was forced to cast Unforgivable Curses on her classmates in Dark Arts class. Harry had even saved Malfoy’s life in the Room of Requirement, and what had he done? He had just joined with his Death Eater friends and had probably been happy when Voldemort dodged the backfired killing curse and took up another wand to kill Harry before their eyes.

Ginny pushed off from the wall, her eyes fiercely blazing as she reached for a wand that wasn’t there to hex Malfoy into oblivion for everything he had done. She had no wand, the Death Eaters had taken it away, but she could live with that. She had wrestled with her brothers when she was growing up, she could very well just punch the slimy git in the face. Her knees gave out when she was only half way across the room, however, and she crashed down with a gasp. Rage broken, for the moment, she glared heatedly at Malfoy across the room, but didn’t even bother to grace him with an answer. What had they done? Oh please. They had just tried to stop him, knowing that whatever plans the Malfoys had weren’t good ones. Everything that had happened was completely his fault. Everything.
^
Ronald Weasley
Posted: Oct 26 2011, 10:00 AM



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Even though they were still in the dungeon, there was something different... something missing. Ron sat there for a moment, his eyes barely open, as he listened intently for the noise that he had grown so familiar with over the past week. He listened for the sound of the screams of his friends. He listened for the sound of the Death Eaters laughs as they bounced off the walls of the dungeon and rang viciously through their cell. He listened for the banging from upstairs.

Silence.

Though this sudden change should have caused him to panic, he instead chose to ignore what the silence might have signified. His body relaxed slightly and he allowed his arms to fall down beside him. He had been on edge all week. Like the rest of them he too had been tortured. At the beginning of the week he had been trying to keep everyones spirits up by making jokes on anything he could think of, but his enthusiasm had quickly faded. What was there to joke about in this place? He had lost his best mate and then he had had to listen to his sister and Hermione being tortured. This place, this situation, was the epitome of everything he had ever feared. There were even spiders.

Both Hermione and Ginny stated that they were okay and he allowed his head to fall back onto the wall behind him. Well that was his biggest worry out of the way. He wasn't sure that he would have been able to survive this without them, and he was relieved that neither of them had been lost along the way (if indeed the time turner had actually taken them back at all, because everything just looked the same to Ron). He needed to stay with Ginny and Hermione; they were practically the only things keeping him sane. He was sure that he would kill Malfoy if he was ever left alone with the git. The thought was tempting even now, actually.

But before he had been able to plan the most effective way of killing him (or in the very least make his life difficult) Hermione had spoken again. Her voice was panicked and Ron sat up slightly, feeling his stomach flip for the briefest of moments. It was never a good sign when Hermione started to panic. His eyes widened a little with fear, and he stared at her as if willing her to expand on her ramblings further. How far back did they go?! Didn't the time turners only take you back an hour or something? He was thoroughly confused. He opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but closed it shut almost instantly. Hermione was probably the only one who had any idea what was going on here.

She made to help him stand, and he quickly did so. He wanted to point out that they had been tortured for a week and should have been allowed a rest, but instead he chose not to. He didn't want to make Hermione angry... She scared him when she was angry. Upon hearing Ginny's hesitant question, Ron turned his gaze to Hermione. "Oh, great!" he exclaimed sarcastically, throwing his hands into the air. He knew what they all thought had happened. "You're going to start telling me that we're in a different year, aren't you? Brilliant. Flaming bloody brilliant. Why does this always happen to us?!" He groaned, unable to contain his frustration. If they hadn't been through enough lately, now this?! He took his gaze back to Hermione, hoping that she would tell him that he was just being mental and they were in fact in the same year that they had been in only minutes before.

So Malfoy was putting the blame on them? Hardly surprising. "Oh, of course it was our fault... Not like it was your time turner or anything," he pointed out sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. Before Ron could punch Malfoy in the face himself, it seemed his sister was already making a move. Before he could do anything to stop her (or help her, more likely) her knees had given way and she was on the floor. Ron ran over to her and attempted to help her back to her feet, muttering a few barely audible insults at the Slytherin as he did so.
^
Hermione Granger
Posted: Dec 10 2011, 11:35 PM



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They didn’t have time for this. If not for the situation Hermione would have laughed bitterly at the thought of time. They had all the time in the world now, how far back had they gone? She wanted to stay laying there, just as she had been in the dungeon, she had been close to giving up and then Draco had gotten the time turner and she recognized it immediately. Amidst the scramble of hands around it she panicked slightly, time turners were delicate and this wasn’t good. She fully expected to be sent to some foreign country but the state of the dungeons around her and the familiarity of Hogwarts, denied that idea.

Despite the weakness in her body, after weeks of torture, she immediately began to plan and almost immediately the other three were at each other’s throats. She heard Ginny’s voice trying to calmly remind her that Dumbledore was dead and that in order for him to still be alive they’d have to go back a year. It was so much worse than that she suspected but didn’t say so. How could she tell them that time was temperamental and that they could have gone back years in time. They didn’t have time, they had to regroup and hopefully find out what was going on, all before anyone found them and started demanding who they were.

However, Ron seemed to figure it out on his own, they were in a different year, she was almost certain. Although his words about it always happening to them caused her heart to clench in pain, harry had been part of them and it was normally to help him that they got themselves into such situations. Just like that third year crept up into her mind and she blinked a few times to clear the tears away from her eyes, grateful for the still poor light in the dungeons. Her voice was controlled and sure as she replied to his question ”Yes, we are probably in another year. The downside to so many people fumbling with the time turner is no one can know how many times it was turned and while normally it can only go back a few hours, that doesn’t mean that if it’s broken serious consequences couldn’t happen,” she said softly.

She hoped that with the explanation given, they would stop asking questions and get ready to leave because they had to get to the room of requirements. There she would think of a room where they could have some privacy to think of their story while she figured out a way to get them back home. It seemed that getting them to work together at this juncture was simply out of the question as Malfoy demanded to know what they’d done. She too felt a surge of anger, something that she relished because it blocked out the pain and she wanted to act on it. She wanted to drive her fist into his face until he felt truly sorry for what he’d done.

However, someone needed to be the calming influence and judging by Ginny’s reaction as she took a few steps forward to confront the blonde git it wasn’t going to be her. Ron’s reaction wasn’t much better as he accused Malfoy of the problem. Hermione shook her head and raised her voice to be heard over Ron’s muttering and any argument Draco might have given. ”Look I know that we’ve all been through so much and I know that this might be disorienting but we need to get it together and work with each other if we want to figure out what’s going on and exactly how far back we’ve gone.”

She felt so tired, she just wanted to lay down and go to sleep but after the things they’d all endured it would be a miracle if any of them could sleep. They would probably all be suffering from Post Traumatic Stress disorder for a while now. ”I think we need to make our way to the room of requirement as it will give us someplace undisturbed to talk and figure things out. It will also give us a chance to see what year it is and exactly how far back we went. I’m sure you all know this but no one can know where we are from,” she finished and took a deep breath hoping that this would get them to see that even if they all hated Draco and he hated them, they had to work together.
^
Draco Malfoy
Posted: Dec 15 2011, 03:32 PM



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No. Just... no. That was the only distinguishable word Draco was able to pull out from the babble suddenly bursting through his mind as he darted wide eyes between the other three (three, two too many and none of them with the right coloured hair). This wasn’t possible. Their words weren’t reaching him or registering in his mind because they weren’t being said because they couldn’t be there... not without her, and judging from the desperate scans of the cavernous dungeon room that had been etched into his memory, she wasn’t. The entire point of this had been to get away safely. To get away, go back, get his father and just run. They were Malfoy’s, they had money and they could hide. For generations perhaps, coming out of the shadows when everything had settled to ride out the highest waves of the storm and calmly slide back into their place at the top of the hierarchy. This wasn’t meant to end up with these people (and he found himself somewhat amused, an extremely strange reaction for him now, that he was actually using that word for them when others so clearly came to mind). No, it wasn’t.

The time turner was digging a groove into his palm he was clutching it so tightly, and his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with each swallow. Each swallow designed by some back part of his mind as if it was able to push away the rising panic he felt to make room for calm and logical sense. At least he hadn’t fallen over, or tried to make a lunge for one of the others, as the others had done towards him (and one would have had to be blind to miss the flinch which had run the length of his body when the red headed people had tried). If anyway he was standing remarkably well... if you ignored the shaking wand hand and the way he was still leaning against the wall. “You’re not meant to be here!” That was all that escaped him, a hiss that spread through the chill air in a slightly different way that their babble had. In his opinion at least. Some of those words were penertrating through the naseau that being jerk through time had left behind, it was appearing... all, unfortunately, words which added to the evidence that Granger was also here. We are probably in another year...

Fools. He had to think that, even as he started to shake and clutch the time turner closer to him. They were fools. They hadn’t gone back years, they had gone back months, at the most. He had programmed it for that, and even their interruption couldn’t have changed it that much. But even if it had, it was no problem of his. In fact, years ago it would have been easier to get his parents away... or at least change that aspect. He had a task to do and now that his mother was also not here (as she should have been) he had to help her as well. All he had to do was stop shaking, start walking, and exit this room through the door (the door that was unlocked, a part of his mind couldn’t help but murmur in something akin to awe). “You do what you wish,” he managed to get out, keeping them all at wands length and moving around the edges of the room (to keep them in sight and not to ensure that he was able to continuously support himself with the wall, he quickly reinsured his damaged, broken and beaten down but still present ego). “As long as you stay out of my way, run and frolick with magical pixie horses for all I give a damn about i-”

A sharp and low hiss escaped his lips, made him falter in his words and stumble in his previously careful route towards the exit. Nothing to do with anything they had said, not at all, but rather a result of the sudden pain of something slicing into his soft flesh. Deep aches had long since settled in his bones and the cold of the dungeon had turned his fingers and toes more than a little numb. So numb in fact that he didn’t notice anything wrong with the object in his grasp until he shifted slightly, and a shard of glass extending from the once smooth surface of the time turner dug into his palm. Other people, perhaps, would have reflexively reacted to such a thing. Draco however, after regaining his balance and bringing his wand back up in defence, could only slowly turn his attention downwards. He unwrapped his fingers as soon as his own grey gaze alighted on that hand, one by one before turning it upside down slowly. The remains of the cracked time turner fell from his grasp to dangle on the chain still wrapped around his wrist (and his neck, come to think of it), a few sands of time sprinkling the floor to mix with the droplets of red liquid that had escaped from the gaps around the glass splinter puncturing his palm.

Perhaps it had been that he had seen, had felt, too much already, but that pain didn’t register after the initial burst. All that was there was the slow, but growing, sense of horror as his return ticket continued to spill onto the dirty stone floor. Everything else, or more to the point everyone else, was forgotten to be replaced by the overwhelming sense of “Oh... shit.”



^
Ginny Weasley
Posted: Dec 19 2011, 10:27 AM


Gryffindor 6th year
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Ron's temper washed over Ginny, but it didn't phase her. One thing about the Weasleys was that they all had relatively short tempers, and tended to curse first and ask questions later. So no, Ron's angry tone didn't bother her at all- what bothered her was what if Hermione was right? What if they had come back in time by an entire year? If they ventured out of the dungeons and headed upstairs, would they see younger versions of themselves fighting Death Eaters, led by the very same blonde currently in this predicament with them? If it was more than one year, they could venture outside and see the Triwizard Tournament in process, dementors infiltrating Hogwarts, or students being petrified by the basilisk slithering through the pipes. There was no guarantee that they could have gone back in increments of years, either. It could currently be the summer. Briefly, she wondered if anyone stayed at Hogwarts over the summer holidays. That didn't matter right now, though. She could worry about it later.

She climbed back on her feet with the help of her brother, leaning against him for a long moment until she felt confident standing again. The jarring collision of her knees and the stone floor had stopped her trajectory towards Malfoy, but she turned her gaze back to him nonetheless. His wand was out and pointed at them, and she didn't doubt for a second that he would also curse first and ask questions later. The thought was enough to stop her from trying to punch him in the face- for the moment, at least.

Hermione's comments about the time turner made sense, and Ginny nodded her head sharply. How her friend could be thinking logically at a time like this was beyond her comprehension, but she did recognize that someone had to, or she and Ron would already be arguing with Malfoy. Considering that Malfoy was the only one of the four of them with a wand, the arguments probably wouldn't have gone in her favor. Taking a deep breath, Ginny removed her glare from Malfoy and turned it to Hermione- minus the glare. "You're right," she agreed begrudgingly, nodding her head in the direction of Malfoy as she spoke her next words. "But why don't you try telling that to him."

The Room of Requirement was suggested, but Ginny hesitated before agreeing to that as well. That was really far away. If it was the summer, or winter break, they might get up there undetected. There were also a number of secret passageways, but they'd have to jump back and forth from one to another several times to even get close. They were in the dungeons, and the room was on the upper floors. Hermione was stressing that they couldn't be seen, and Ginny agreed with that, but there was no invisibility cloak in their possession. Chewing her lip, her stomach rumbled softly and she suddenly had her idea.

"What if we get seen? Maybe if we went to the kitchens first, the house elves might be able to tell us when it is and where it is. They're only a few hallways from here, and I'm starving." She couldn't help but to grin at her brother as she made her suggestion, knowing that Ron would definitely approve. Maybe once they got some nourishment in their bodies, they could head up to the Room of Requirement for a discussion. The room could probably even hide them for as long as they needed. Fugitives in Hogwarts, trying to find out how to get home. The idea would have been exciting if their situation hadn't been so dire.

She hadn't been paying much attention to Malfoy, so when he cursed, and not in site of them, she swirled her head around to find him closer to the door- the open door- the time turner dangling from his palm, sand and blood trickling slowly to the ground. A long, long moment passed where she simply stared at it, noticing how broken it was, noticing the jagged shards of glass and the broken hourglass, the enchanted sands that probably made it work falling, falling, falling... and then she felt anger. "What did you do?"
^
Ronald Weasley
Posted: Jan 15 2012, 02:35 PM



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Ron might have appreciated Hermione's apparent levelheadedness, had he not been so angry. As it stood he was scarcely paying attention to her. In his mind Malfoy deserved to be smacked in the gob and he would happily step forward to take the job if none of the others wanted to. Clearly Ginny did want to, but it was painfully obvious even to Ron who wasn't exactly the best at noticing these things, that she didn't have the strength to. Despite the fact that they had been tortured and had lost their friends and family, Ron was pretty sure that he could still muster the strength to punch the git in the face if he tried hard enough. It would probably make him feel a lot better about this whole thing.

Then Hermione attempted to explain the situation. Serious consequences. Serious bloody consequences?! "So unless we somehow manage to master time travel without using that thing, we're pretty much screwed then?" he asked, attempting to make it obvious in his tone of voice that he considered that to be impossible. This whole situation was absolutely mental. He shot Hermione a look that said he was unconvinced, but said nothing else on the matter. He didn't want to start shouting at Hermione because it wasn't her fault at all, but at the same time this situation didn't look promising, did it? If the time turner had somehow managed to bring them here in the first place then Merlin knows what would happen if they tried to use it to get back. They'd probably end up bumping into Salazar Slytherin or something. Now that would make this whole thing worse.

Ginny managed to get back to her feet but Ron's gaze was fixed on Malfoy. If there was ever a look that said 'I want to kill you several times over, throw your body into the Forbidden Forest for the spiders, drag your remains out a few days later and then kill you again' then Ron had mastered it perfectly in that one moment. He would have punched him in the face, had Malfoy not lifted his wand. Funnily enough, Ron didn't fancy being hexed into oblivion. He simply narrowed his eyes further, hoping that it would somehow make himself feel better if he could make Malfoy feel worse.

At the mention of working together Ron dragged his gaze away from Hermione and took it back to Malfoy. He couldn't think of anything worse than having to work with him, but he didn't argue. He knew that Hermione was right (of course she would be he reminded himself, it was Hermione) and despite how much he hated the Slytherin, he wanted to get home. Nodding slightly, he allowed himself to fall back onto the wall behind him.

Hermione mentioned going to the Room of Requirement which had seemed like a great idea to Ron, but Ginny pointed out that they should go to the kitchens instead. Of course that was an even better idea to Ron. He turned to look at his sister just in time to see the grin that she sent him and he couldn't help but return it. "I like Ginny's idea!" He exclaimed, probably with too much enthusiasm. "No offense Hermione, you're brilliant and everything, but I'm kind of hungry..." He had travelled through time (apparently), it was only right that he would be hungry. He had years of eating to catch up on. Of course there was also the fact that they could talk to the house elves to get information if they went to the kitchens, but that wasn't really at the forefront of his mind. Malfoy's remark about magical pixie horses (what the hell were they anyway?!) brought Ron's mood right back down again. "Seriously, can we gag him or something?!" He gestured to Malfoy, turning to look at Hermione as if waiting for her permission to do it. She wouldn't give him permission, but that didn't stop Ron from making his thoughts known.

It was only when Ron heard Ginny's angry voice that he turned to see the time turner smashed in Malfoy's hand. He clenched his jaw, trying to find the strength to keep his anger from bubbling to the surface again. Despite the fact that Ron wanted to start telling Malfoy all about how he was the scum of the earth and had just ruined all of their lives and any chance of getting home, he restrained. Hermione had said that they had to work together and there was no way in hell that he was going to say anything to piss her off. He waited for her to say something reassuring, to say that they didn't need the time turner to get home, and if she said anything else then maybe Ron would strangle Malfoy.
^
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