Chapter 61 - Harry Pottor Fan-fiction 18 - Rewriting Destiny (2/2)
She wanted to believe that they had a chance to fight against this. That they would be able to recover.
But she knew it was too late. The point of no return was that battle of May 1998. On that day, they could have gone two different ways. They could have saved the world, and tried to heal and recover. Or they could have gone down the path they did now.
”You don't have to do this, Hermione,” she heard a voice call to her, and she was broken out of the rumination she was in.
She looked up at Harry, watching him limp through the room, as she felt her throat tighten. She stood in front of the cauldron, which was bubbling a vivid green colour, as it waited on its final ingredients.
”You and I both know that we need to, Harry,” she said softly, ”The war is all but over. There's no one left to fight against this. It's just us now. And when we're gone, there's no one to oppose this new world we're living in. There's no one who will fight the injustice. They're all dead, or have given up. We can't give up not. Not when we fought for so long against this. Not when we all know that none of us, wizarding population alike, will survive if we go down this current path.”
”I know,” Harry let out a deep sigh, as he ran his hand through his hair. ”I know. I just wish it didn't have to come to this.”
”It should be you, you know,” she said softly, looking up at him. ”It's your family. It's not fair for me to go back, and live among them. Not when you never had to chance to grow up with your parents.”
He smiled at her, in a heartbreaking kind of way, ”I don't know if I could. How do I live among my father and his friends, knowing the things that I do? How do I see Peter Pettigrew every day, and not kill him on the spot for the things he did to my parents, and to Sirius and Remus? I can't do it, Hermione. We both know my emotions would get in the way, and ruin the entire mission. But you've always been the logical one. The one who could see pat things like that and do what needed to be done when it came down to it. You need to be the one who goes back and changes the past.”
”I know,” she said, looking down, filled with pain and with dread. It wasn't an easy decision to come to, that they only solution would be to go back in time and change the outcome of the war. To stop the things that had happened from happening. It wasn't enough to go back to May 1998, for the seed of hate was already deeply imbued, and the damage of the war was too much to recover from. No, they needed to go back even further, to the time of the height of Voldemort's power, during the first world war, and stop it then itself.
”All that's missing is the drops of blood, to tie us to the families we will be returning to,” Hermione murmured. ”You could have cast it too, you know. Your grandmother was a Black.”
”I know,” he said. ”But it won't be my blood we're using. Are you sure that he's the right choice for this? After everything that's happened?”
She looked up, to see Harry gesturing to Draco Malfoy, who was entering the room, holding the knife they needed to cut their hands.
”Still having doubts, Potter?” Malfoy drawled, looking more annoyed than anything else. ”For Salazar's sake, Potter. We both know why I'm going back. We both know I've been on your side fighting against my Father and his regime for the better part of this war.”
”What if you're a spy?” Harry snapped. ”What if you're the one who has been reporting to your father this entire time. What if this is your attempt to sabotage the last chance we have of saving us all?”
”You wouldn't even have this bloody ritual if it weren't for me!” Malfoy spat. ”I'm the one who got it for you from the Black family library! It's my family magic that will allow it to work! We both know I am not a spy for my father! Not after Bellatrix killed my mother for telling Voldmort you were not dead in that forest. Not after my father stood back and watched it, only saying he was glad to be rid of a traitor after it was over. I want nothing to do with my father, Potter.”
”We know,” Hermione said quickly, giving Harry a dirty look. It would do no good to alienate Malfoy now. He was right, he was the one who brought the ritual to them. He was the one who had suggested it. He was the one who fought by her side in their battles of rebellion against his father's system. She may not like him, but she trusted he was on their side.
”We should cast this soon,” Malfoy said glancing around the room. ”It's only a matter of time before they track us to this location. And if they do before we're gone, it's over. This is our only chance of casting it.”
”Did you decide which side of your family you're returning to?” Hermione asked him softly. It was different for her, she didn't have a non-extinct pureblood family line to return to. It was why she and Harry had performed a blood ritual earlier, one which allowed her to be formally adopted into the Potter family. It wasn't an uncommon ritual, often used by pureblood families to adopt children into their family, to be able to maintain their bloodlines and purity. So for all intents and purposes, Hermione was a Potter. Which she would need to be, for the ritual to work, and for her to be sent back to the Potter family as their daughter.
”The Blacks,” Draco said quietly. ”My father is beyond saving. I don't think anything will sway him from the path he chose. But as a Black I can save more people. I can stop my mother from marrying him. I can stop the tragic fate of the Black family from dying out as they did.”
Hermione nodded, agreeing with his choice. It would be easier too, given that Draco's future (or past, she supposed) cousin, Sirius, would be the best friend of her soon to be brother. They would need to communicate, and the simpler the lie, the better.
She thought about it, how insane it was, when Malfoy had found but dismissed thoughts of the ritual. But how she and Harry had fought for it, knowing it was their only chance.
”So what,” Malfoy had said, incredulously. The offer for the ritual was a long shot, never meant to actually come to pass. And it was clear that Malfoy could not believe that she and Harry actually going along with the plan. ”We just go back to 1972 and wait around for a decade for Voldemort to try and kill your boyfriend's parents?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, not bothering to rise to the taunt. She knew he was more scared than anything else.
”No, we be smart. The war ended in 1981, but it reached its peak in the 1970s. It was when Voldemort rallied his followers, half of whom are causing the damage out there right now. So, we be smart, we gain friendships and alliances, making sure he doesn't get half the support he did have the first time. We make sure he doesn't get half the political advantage he had. Obviously, the only thing that will bring him down is making sure his horcruxes are destroyed. And while not all of those are created, the ones that already have been made will not be in circulation until the late 1970s when everyone has made their stance already. So, we use the beginning to make sure his numbers never reach what they were. We make sure certain friendships are never severed, and make sure others are exposed for the lies they are. And we make sure when Voldemort goes down, this time for good, so do his Death Eaters.”
”It's time,” Harry said, looking out the window, and Hermione sensed the wards around the place slowly being breached.
”You know,” Hermione said with a watery laugh, looking at her friend. ”If this works, the next time I see you, I'll be your aunt.”
And it was true. If she succeeded, and Voldmort fell before James and Lily died, she would see Harry the next time when he was born in 1980.
There was no coming back from this; she would be there to stay, alongside Malfoy. And it should have hurt her more, knowing she would be losing her best friend. But they would all be dead if she stayed, and it drove her forward.
”I'm sure you'll be my favourite Aunt,” Harry smiled, hugging her tightly. ”I believe in you, Hermione. If anyone can succeed at this brilliant and completely insane plan, it would be you.”
She nodded, unable to say anything else. When she pulled away, she saw Malfoy handing her the blade which had been in his family for many generations. The very knife that had carved those horrid words into her skin. If she succeeded and they went back, she knew the words would be removed from her body.
She took the knife gingerly, and sliced her palm, pouring a few drops of blood into the boiling cauldron.
Malfoy took the knife from her and started to cut his pale while palm.
”Hurry,” Harry urged, ”The wards are nearly down. They'll be inside the building any minute now.”
She heard the walls beginning to rattle, and she knew that the Aurors would be inside the building soon, and if she was still there when they came in, it would mean their instant death.
He took his hand and poured his blood into the cauldron.
She pressed her cut palm to Malfoy's, and closed her eyes.
”Tergum in Tempus,” she chanted, as Malfoy chanted simultaneously. She felt the magic begin to circle around her, encompassing her. She repeated the words, as she saw golden strands begin to circle them both.
She heard a loud bang, as the door was blasted open, Aurors filling into the room, wands pointed at them. She was grateful for the brief moment of surprise on their faces, unsure of what to make of the scene in front of them. But once they came to, it was too late. Hermione and Draco had gone back to 1972, and hopefully this time, things would go far differently. The fate of the Wizarding world depended on it.
Chapter End