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Buried deep below The Ministry of Magic in The Department of Mysteries, at the end of a heavily warded corridor lay the lab of one Special Consultant, Hermione Granger.
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Hermione Granger was the first Special Consultant The Ministry had hired, probably because she carefully negotiated the position into existence. This afforded her freedom to follow projects that interested her, of which there were many.
She had first stopped in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where she worked alongside the Aurors for two and a half years, helping track down the remaining Death Eaters that had gone into hiding. Whilst The Ministry had been sceptical at first, the results of her task force initiatives spoke for themselves. There were few known Death Eaters left unaccounted for, the majority awaiting trial or already making themselves at home in Azkaban.
Eventually Hermione decided she had done her duty, she had given her childhood to the war, and now she wanted to follow her burning curiosity and passion. She next moved to the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, where she stayed for the better part of a year passing legislation protecting the rights of all manner of beasts and beings.
After years of bureaucracy and paperwork, Granger felt the call of academia once again, and transferred to the Department of Runes and Symbols, where she lost herself in old tomes and translations. She stayed for three years and published as many books.
Though she loved the peace and solitude she felt a familiar itch under her skin, and so she went looking for a new adventure.
This was how she ended up hunched over a cluttered workstation far below the busy streets of London, muttering to herself as she tinkered with the separated pieces of a time turner. The lights in the laboratory were low, save the bright lamp that illuminated the desk. Hermione sat in front of a glass case that held a complex mechanical system of cogs and gears, imbued with powerful charms. Mounted on top of this was a large metal bowl, part of an old pensive she’d restored. She carefully placed the final pieces of the time turner into the machine, and closed the glass doors.
Her hands shook slightly as she lifted her wand. All her work had led up to this moment, and she wasn’t about to fuck it up. Hermione took a deep breath to settle her nerves, and her wand dipped left and then looped over to the right, forming a perfect infinity loop. She repeated this gesture several more times, as the gears in the box shimmered and slowly started to turn.
Her mouth twitched in a satisfied smile, eyes wild at the promise of success. She placed her wand down onto the workbench and stood over the basin. It was filled with spring water collected in Glastonbury and purified under the light of the full moon. She opened a drawer and pulled out a simple dagger, it’s clean steel blade glinting in the soft light.
Hermione held her left hand out over the bowl and drew the blade across it in a slow swipe. The cut was deep, blood flowed out of her palm and fell steadily. The droplets contaminated the pure water, deep crimson tendrils twisted inside the basin.
Hermione flexed her fingers before pulling her hand into a tight fist, still held aloft, blood running through her knuckles. She picked up her wand with calm determination. When she spoke it was in a deep and steady voice, more prayer than spell.
“Invoco Moirai magnum et potentem,”
I call upon the great and powerful Moirai
“Permitte mihi quaerere velamen,”
Allow me to look through the veil
“Ostende mihi alias animas,”
Show me my other lives
“In aliis regnis,”
In other realms
“Desideria mea altissima,”
My deepest desires
“Viaeque non captae,”
And paths not taken
She gripped both sides of the basin fiercely, took a deep breath, and pushed her face into the unnaturally icy liquid within.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then she was falling, falling, falling.
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Her body twisted around in the air, all she could see through the blackness were small streaks of light.
Her fall seemed to be slowing, and then all at once she felt solid ground beneath her feet. She stumbled, but remained upright. When she looked down the surface was black as obsidian, though she struggled to see through the thick fog curled around her ankles.
Hermione raised her head and gasped as her eyes adjusted to the gloom.
Hanging all around her in the seemingly endless void were large orbs radiating pure light. They flickered silver and gold in the twilight. It was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen, and it made her breathless.
She felt like she was walking among the stars, a quiet background static was the only noise. The strange dimension was somehow both archaic and timeless, as though she had stepped into the metaphysical.
The closest orb was several metres away, and when she drew close a hazy image began to appear.
It was like an old T.V. set being tuned, the picture warped, before flattening out and showing something she couldn’t quite comprehend.
It was dark, but Hermione could make out the image of herself holding onto a broom with white knuckles, a dark and tumultuous body of water below her. What on earth was she doing on a broom? But the biggest shock was yet to come. A familiar looking blonde sat behind her, his face split into a wide grin, despite the heady winds and sea spray.
Draco Malfoy.
Hermione might have guessed initially that her other self was being kidnapped, but she realised with growing horror that she was leaning back against Malfoy, his arm protectively around her waist.
The Other Hermione had her face scrunched up, looking ill. Malfoy shouted something, and her eyes grew wide with wonder as a Hippocampus broke the surface of the waves.
She watched with fascination as they reached land, Other Hermione collapsing off the broom, Malfoy throwing his arms in the air with joy and exhilaration.
She couldn’t fathom how in any reality she had trusted Malfoy enough to get onto a broom with him.
This was so weird.
Hermione walked past the orb, determined to see another lifetime. She had come here for answers, not to get distracted by a Death Eater she didn’t care about.
The next ball of light flickered, settling on it’s image faster than the last. Hermione shivered slightly, registering the chill that had taken over her body, and leaned forward in anticipation.
It looked like a muggle hospital room, except everything was filthy and destroyed. There was a pile of corpses in the corner, only they looked to be writhing around. Hermione stepped back in horror as she realised the bodies were moving of their own free will. They looked like… Zombies.
What kind of universe was this? She covered her mouth in panic as she noticed her own form crumpled and bleeding badly. She was crying as the creatures tore into a man. Hermione prayed she wasn’t about to see her own death.
Other Hermione lifted her wand at the creatures but nothing happened. A black blur skidded towards her huddled form and took her wrist, aiming it towards the monsters. It was Malfoy again.
What the fuck was going on?
He spoke, though Hermione couldn’t hear him through the static of the void she was in. A sickening green light hit the man who was being eaten, and he ceased to struggle.
Malfoy picked off the other creatures with a gun, before lifting Hermione into his arms. The image faded back to golden light.
Hermione stood stock still, staring into the orb with unseeing eyes.
He had saved her in that hellish world. Why?
He had been in both visions. Why?
Fueled by unbound curiosity she surged forwards, desperate to know more.
Other Hermione and Draco were stood in front of a muggle caffe, though the sky was dark and the doors closed. Snow fell around the couple as they looked at each other with such heartbreaking tenderness Hermione felt a little dizzy.
Slowly this version of Malfoy sank onto one knee. Other Hermione followed suit, meeting him as an equal.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. Malfoy pulled out a small black box. Other Hermione beamed at him, she looked happier than Hermione could ever recall herself being. Malfoy pulled her into a searing embrace, the kiss was desperate and joyful.
Hermione backed away from the light. She would have to go back to the lab and double check her work, she was confident she could figure out why the void had only shown her visions of Malfoy. Maybe she’d done something wrong, or there had been an interdimensional mix up. Whatever she was looking for, it hadn’t been this.
She turned suddenly, realising that she had no idea how to exit the seemingly infinite blackness. Maybe if she went far enough she would see a gateway or a door. Her heart hammered in her chest.
She took off at a sprint through the endless void, panic starting to choke her throat.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It would be ironic, really, if Hermione Granger got stuck in her own invention. Brightest witch of her age and she couldn’t remember to build an exit?
Hermione passed by flashes of herself, scenes she couldn’t fathom or make sense of.
An emaciated Hermione lying like a sacrificial lamb on a stone table, surrounded by robed figures. Platinum blonde hair escapes a hood.
Hermione and Draco in a big bed, snuggling with blonde, curly haired children.
Lives she hadn’t lived passed her in an instant, beautiful and devastating.
A heavily tattooed Malfoy pushing her up against a wall, kissing her with burning need.
A young boy who bore a striking resemblance to Malfoy dressed as a little cactus with a bowtie holding her hand and laughing.
Malfoy holding her against the bricks in the Astronomy tower at Hogwarts, Ron looking on in horror.
Hermione sprinting down a street, wearing a wedding dress and looking every part the runaway bride. She passes a tall figure dressed in black and he catches her arm. She looks up at a concerned Malfoy, tears running down her face.
It was too much, this barrage of possibility. She shouldn’t have come here. This place was dangerous. Hermione stumbled to a halt, her breath coming out in sharp gasps, tears rolling down her face. Her ankle tipped as she turned to look desperately for a way out again and she lost her balance. When she threw her arms out to steady herself her fingertips grazed the nearest orb.
She knew it was a mistake as soon as she connected with the light. A rumble filled the air and the orb got impossibly brighter, expanding rapidly.
Hermione lifted her arm to shield her eyes, but stood her ground as she waited to be burned up into nothing. She hadn’t exactly had time to make her peace with death, but she stood to face it head on.
Gryffindor till the end.
✨🔮✨
The empty lab was silent. Dust motes floated down into the yellow beam of light emitted by the lamp, barely moving in the stagnant air.
Then, chaos erupted.
The desk splintered in all directions, the sound of wood being ripped apart filled the air. Beakers and vials shattered, soaking the stacks of fastidious notes Hermione had made with a toxic concoction.
Hermione was blown backwards by the powerful blast of energy. It sent her clean across the room and into the cluttered shelves behind her. There was a deafening crash as they came down on top of her, but her ears were ringing too loud for it to register.
The only thing she registered before the world faded was the pain.
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The force of the eruption triggered the wards set up to alert a team of Aurors with special permissions to visit the lab. They often had to pop in and help Hermione put out fires and heal bizarre injuries. Luckily they asked few questions, and were good natured enough to laugh off her ranting when she couldn’t figure out why something hadn’t worked. They smiled wryly, and made quips that Hermione was entering her ‘Mad Scientist’ phase, though those raised in the wizarding world always looked a little confused at this.
Harry’s head snapped up from his desk as the alarm sounded. More trouble in the lab. He apparated away, dreading what he would find this time.
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Hermione came back to consciousness slowly, feeling like she was being dragged from the mud at the bottom of the Black Lake. She lazily floated towards the surface.
She furrowed her brow against the bright light of day, confusion clouded her brain. She managed to open her eyes a fraction, taking in a very unexpected sight.
Draco Malfoy stood over her, frowning at a diagnostic charm. Her face softened as she took in his platinum hair and sharp features. Had she fallen into one of those orbs? Maybe this was some sort of deathbed hallucination, her oxygen starved brain conjuring up someone pretty to look at before she died. She found she didn’t mind so much. Seeing him was strangely comforting after the visions she had seen of them together.
“You must have hit your head harder than I thought, you almost look happy to see me,” he smiled wryly.
“Malfoy?” She croaked out his name, her voice was gravely from disuse.
“Healer Malfoy, now.” He indicated his mint green robes. “How are you feeling?”
Hermione tried to check in with her body, wiggling her toes and turning her neck. This action made her acutely aware of the throbbing pain in her skull. In fact, all over her body.
She grimaced, “Headache. I feel achy… And itchy.”
“I’m not surprised, it was quite a nasty explosion you were caught in.” He caught her hand as she lifted it to itch her face.
“No scratching, or I’ll have to reapply that burn paste.” He said sternly.
She blinked down at his hand around her wrist. His fingers were rough and warm.
If you’d asked her yesterday when the last time she thought about Draco Malfoy was she wouldn’t have been able to tell you the answer. From now on that answer was probably going to be ‘today’.
Draco seemed to hesitate before he dropped her hand and took a step backwards, his face turning grim. “Granger, I would understand if you wanted to be treated by one of my colleagues. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
She looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Are you going to try to kill me?”
He looked horrified at her blunt question, “No!”
“And will you provide me with substandard care because of my blood status?”
“Of course not!” He thundered, his face now turning rather pink.
“Well then, heal away.” She shrugged. This was a terrible decision, as her back was very sore from colliding with the shelves. She winced with pain.
Draco let out an exasperated laugh and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like Bloody Gryffindors and turned to the table behind him.
Hermione took advantage of his distance to scratch her cheek, feeling a sticky salve on her skin.
He returned to her bedside holding an uncorked pain relief potion and held it out for her. She took it gratefully, gulping down the minty vial.
He tutted as he held her chin to inspect her cheek, “I’ll have to put more on now.”
Hermione rolled her eyes but held still as his long fingers skimmed her cheek, reapplying the soothing mixture. The smell of tea tree and lavender mixed with the aroma of hospital chemicals. She sighed and her eyelids fluttered closed. She felt soothed after all the panic and worry, it was good to be taken care of.
The potion was definitely kicking in, and she felt bone tired all of a sudden.
“I’ll leave you to rest.”
Malfoy’s deep voice already sounded distant, as she slipped into mercifully dreamless sleep.
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Hermione woke to two low voices hissing at each other.
“- already told you, I don’t know what caused the explosion. These burns aren’t like anything I've seen before.”
“You must know something, what would cause it to look like that?”
“Listen Potter, why don’t you do your own damn job and look in her lab? I’m not going to allow you to wake her, sleep is extremely important to healing.”
“Malfoy…” Harry growled.
Hermione could almost hear the stubborn look on Malfoy’s face.
Harry released an exasperated sigh, the sound of stomping footsteps moved towards the door and followed him down the corridor.
“You can stop pretending to be asleep now,” Malfoy said as he drew closer.
The corner of her mouth twitched but she kept her eyes closed as she spoke. “My project, it was destroyed?”
“Sounds like it,” he said, curiosity edging into his voice.
She sighed. All that work, just gone.
She felt a hand on her wrist and cracked an eye to squint up at him. He was looking down at her palm with a furrowed brow.
Hermione flexed her fingers, and could see the red line that ran across her skin.
“Blood magic,” he stated simply.
“Going to rat me out?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“No, it’s not my business. If Saint Potter wants to know he can get it out of you himself.”
“Thanks, I owe you one.” She replied, letting her head fall back on the pillow.
He let out a long exhale before quietly saying “I don’t think there’s any world in which you owe me.”
Hermione smiled, “I’m not so sure about that.”
Malfoy’s brows knitted together but he said nothing, instead taking out his wand to perform a diagnostic charm.
“Merlin Granger,” he said after a moment. “You shouldn’t mess about with things you don’t understand. You’re lucky to be alive.”
He looked almost worried for her. How cute.
Jesus Hermione, get a grip.
“What happened to me?”
“Aside from three broken ribs, a punctured lung and full body burns?” He said, voice edged with sarcasm. “You had a bleed in your brain, a big one. There was blood coming out of your eyes and nose. It was fucking horrifying. Never seen anything like it.” He shook his head.
She paled. Had it really been that bad?
“You must have been playing with some pretty serious magic. It tried to melt your brain.” He poked her forehead and frowned at her.
“Okay,” she raised her hands in mock surrender, batting his hand away. “No more tampering with the fabric of time and space, I get it.”
Malfoy eyed her suspiciously before giving her a small nod. He finished up the exam and left Hermione to her thoughts.
Though she was sad her work was lost, a part of her was glad she’d never be able to return to that celestial void. It had smelt of old magic, from the time before it could be divided into Light or Dark. Something more ancient and powerful than the charms they channelled through twigs. She had called out to The Fates themselves, invoked their powers to see something never meant for mortals.
Hermione shivered, as though she could still feel the thick fog curling up her legs.
No, she was glad that the gateway to that primordial place had been destroyed. Who knew what Eldritch abominations lurked in the infinite depths.
She had yet to figure out why they had shown her those strange scenes, and why every one had included a certain wizard she couldn’t keep out of her head. No matter what she tried to focus on, her thoughts drifted back to Draco Malfoy.
She slipped into a fitful sleep and dreamt of endless darkness and tears of blood.
✨🔮✨
Hermione was discharged after one month at St. Mungos. Malfoy had meticulously overseen her care; she wasn’t sure she’d ever met a healer more competent.
There was nothing to do in the hospital, as she had been banned from working. Hermione occupied her time in three ways. She read the books Ginny smuggled her; she obsessed over the visions she had seen; and she annoyed Malfoy.
She was finishing up this third task as she gathered her things to leave the hospital. The pair traded insults playfully, and Hermione rolled her eyes as he strictly told her to take it easy until she had fully recovered.
Her chest felt tight as she thought about how she wouldn’t get to have this snarky back and forth each day. It was an odd sensation, realising that she would miss him.
She shouldered her rucksack and lifted a hand goodbye. “I guess I’ll see you next time I almost die.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Looking forward to it.”
“Thanks for, you know, not letting me die. Must have been hard for you,” Hermione tried her best to add a little levity into the sombre atmosphere. They both seemed off their game.
She turned and headed out of her hospital room for the last time, trying to focus on how good it would feel to finally get home.
Hermione missed the confused look of longing in Malfoy’s eyes as he watched her go, before he dropped his gaze to the linoleum floor.
“Hey, Malfoy.”
He looked up, surprised to see Hermione’s riotous curls bouncing back through the doorway.
“Back so soon Granger?” He quipped.
“Well I was just wondering, since I’m no longer your patient…” Hermione faltered slightly, but took a deep breath and committed to the plan.
“Yes?” He prompted.
“Do you want to go to dinner with me?” She asked, her cheeks tinged with pink.
He gaped at her. “You’re asking me out?”
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“Like on a date?” He asked, eyes still wide.
“Yes Malfoy, I think that’s pretty obvious.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked up at him defiantly.
And damn if it wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen her do.
“I’d… like that,” he smiled widely, and a small dimple appeared on his left cheek. Hermione hadn't seen him smile like that before, and her heart skipped a beat.
“Great,” she said, a little breathlessly, before practically running out the door. “I’ll owl you!” She shouted over her shoulder, leaving a stunned Malfoy in her wake.
✨🔮✨
Years later (although it could have been no time at all, it was so hard to keep track) a golden ball of light flickered to life in the pitch black. It showed a familiar scene.
Buried deep below The Ministry of Magic in The Department of Mysteries, at the end of a heavily warded corridor lay the lab of one Special Consultant, Hermione Malfoy.
Deep in the darkness, three sisters smiled.