Chapter Text
“Bring me that bloody goblin!”
Bellatrix Lestrange screamed at Wormtail as Hermione lied on the floor of the Malfoy manor. Her arm numb after the Deatheater scraped her with the blade. The word “mudblood” looked back at her, hurting her in all ways possible. A reminder of her place in the Wizarding World and how others perceive her, inferior and shameful.
Hermione watched as a drop of blood made its way down her arm, glistening in its track down. Her tears dripped to the floor while she silently cried from the pain. A pain no girl her age should go through. She looked over spotting Draco Malfoy, her long-time bully, looking back at her with guilt and remorse, as though a Malfoy could possess such feelings. If she looked closer, she may find tears of fright threatening to fall out. Turning back around, she wondered where Harry and Ron were, wishing they were safe.
”And take her away from here!” Bellatrix ordered, making Wormtail jump at his feet. He grabbed her by her arm, pushing her to her feet as Hermione tried to resist a scream of pain. His metal fingers bruising her skin as he pushed her along. His wand pointed to her neck, threatening her from trying anything.
”Lock her in the storage room! Don't want the little muppets interacting with one another!”
Wormtail forcibly dragged her through the manor. The rest of the place was as dark and gloomy as the drawing room. With the dim lighting and black dominating the aesthetic of the house, Hermione wondered how someone could live here and call it home. Many portraits were hung on the wall, most of which were men with white-blond hair from different timelines. Hermione guessed these were the Malfoy ancestors.
They reached a dingy looking door, matching the pattern of the house. Wormtail opened the door, revealing an equally dark room covered in dust. He threw her on the ground and Hermione stumbled down with a groan as she hit her head against a hard stand. “Stay here.” The rat animagus warned as he locked the door behind him, leaving the girl alone in this unknown environment.
She looked around noting that, truly, she was in sort of storage room owned by the Malfoy’s. Many objects were scattered around, most looking like furniture covered by cloaks. Hermione was terrified of what would happen next for the golden trio. Everything was going the wrong way. She can only hope something or someone would magically save them. Though Hermione knew that to be far from realistic.
She then looked up, her hand still on her bruised head, noticing a grand flat surface covered in a dusty cloak. Hermione can only conclude that this particular piece furniture is a mirror. The edges of the mirror, including its legs that Hermione so gracefully fell on, were carved with immense detail that screamed of anciency. The wood was covered by a gold that shimmered under the faint light coming from a near by window. This was the only color Hermione has seen in her adventure at the Malfoy’s.
Hermione let herself be curious as she uncovered the shiny object. She was barely able to notice the engraved letters at the top before she was sucked into the light.
***
Hermione slowly opened her eyes. But quickly covered them again as bright sunshine grazed through the window. Her head was in unbearable pain.
The witch took a moment to look around. Where the hell is she? As Hermione tried to remember what happened to her last, all she could come up this is getting abused by Bellatrix. She glanced back at her arm, confirming that that was indeed not a nightmare but real life. She must be at the Malfoy’s still, she concluded. But she does not recognize this room one bit. The room seemed rather empty. Though there was a gigantic closet pressed up against the wall facing the door. Hermione stepped up and went over to the closet. It was rather bizarre. The design of it seemed similar to that of her grandmother’s with the old wood and carved details. Even the door handles were extravagant. The contents of the closet were even more bizarre. It was filled with fancy dress robes, which had padded shoulders, nipped waists, and seemed to be made of wool. The colors were rich, with velvet green and burgundy seeming to be dominant of the bunch.
Hermione decided that she best get out, find her friends and leave this place. But to her surprise, when she opened the door and glanced out, she was met with an unusual sight. The Malfoy Manor’s interior was not as she left it. Different items were scattered around, but the same dark colors controlled the aesthetic. Very bizarre. Hermione sneakily walked through the path Wormtail led her through, taking in every different detail. She passed through the hallway of the Malfoy men, realizing that the portrait of Draco and Lucius were missing. Bizarre indeed.
Hermione careful entered the drawing room where she was previously tortured, though, no one was present. Suddenly, a voice called out, taking Hermione by utter surprise. “Dobby!” Hermione quickly hid behind the entry’s door frame.
”I thought I told you to clean the drawing room! We have guests coming over.” Dobby? Before Hermione could get over her shock, a middle aged woman wearing an extravagant dress, just like the ones she saw earlier, appeared “But I did, mistress.” Dobby’s stuttering soft voice came through, obviously scared. “Look at that chandelier, it’s full of dust,” The woman’s screamed at the poor elf again and Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “I want everything to be perfect for when the Blacks arrive.” She then looked around, causing the younger witch to hold her breath and shrink behind the door frame again. The women then left leaving the elf to do his work.
Hermione saw this as an opportunity to get the hell out of there. She reached the front door and grabbed a black wizard’s cloak that was hanging there. She carefully opened the door, trying to not make any sound and slipped out. She put on the cloak, tied it around her neck, then sprinted to the front gate. The antique clothes, the dislocated furniture, Dobby still being enslaved… It doesn’t take a genius to conclude that Hermione had travelled back in time. And with Draco and Lucius’ portraits missing, she travelled far back.
Luckily, the gate was open and no one was around to question this young mysterious lady who came out running for her life. She slipped out, through the little space and before she got the chance to apparate, a young man appeared right infront of her.
“Well well, who we have here?” Hermione’s luck was really peeking through the roof today. The young man who had just apparated infront of her had slicked back white-blond hair, and glistening grey eyes that studied her. His lips were turned into a familiar smirk. Obviously a Malfoy. His posture was straight, and his arms disappeared behind his back as he slightly leaned forward towards her smaller frame.
“Excuse me, I really must be on my way.” Hermione turned around and stepped away. She cannot risk talking with this man. What would she even say to him?
His smirk turned into a confused frown, as he reached out with his arm. “Wait a moment!” But it was too late as Hermione finally apparated away, leaving this place for good.