Saving Her Other Half
Her mind raced as she thought of a way to get Severus back. The war was over, the prophecy fulfilled, but her heart was still at war with the grief that had claimed it. Hermione knew of the time turner Harry had used to save Sirius, and she had seen the potential for disaster in meddling with time. But the pain of living without Severus was a constant battle she could no longer endure.
Her resolve grew stronger with each tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. If there was a way, she would find it. She couldn't let him die in vain, not when she had the power to change the course of events. The decision was made. She would save him, even if it meant breaking the rules and facing unknown consequences. The promise she made to herself burned in her chest, a beacon of hope in the dark sea of despair.
With shaking hands, Hermione pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and dipped her quill into a bottle of ink. The nib danced across the page as she penned a letter to Harry. Her words were few but urgent. "Dear Harry, I need your help. Please come to my parents' house in the Highlands. I'll explain everything when you arrive." She folded the note, sealing it with a tear that fell from her eye. The address, etched in silver ink, glinted in the candlelight, a silent plea for salvation.
Leaning out the window, she whispered the incantation that would send the letter hurtling through the night sky. The paper fluttered away, a silent messenger carrying the burden of her secret. As she waited, the minutes stretched into an eternity, each tick of the clock a stabbing reminder of the time she had lost. Her mind raced with the consequences of her decision, the ripples it could send through the fabric of their world. But the ache in her chest was stronger than her fear.
An hour later, the soft patter of footsteps outside her door broke the stillness. She rushed to answer it, her hand trembling on the knob. Harry's disheveled hair and concerned eyes met hers, his arms wrapping around her in a tight embrace. She felt his warmth seep into her, chasing away the cold that had taken residence since Severus's death. For the first time in months, she allowed herself to lean into the comfort of a friend.
Without preamble, she led Harry to the sitting room, gesturing for him to take a seat by the fireplace. Her words tumbled out in a rush, her voice shaking with the weight of her secret. She told him about the soulmate bond, the hidden meetings, and the love that had grown between her and the man who had been both enemy and ally. Harry's eyes grew wide with shock, but he remained silent, listening intently as she recounted the moments that had been her lifeline during the war.
When she finally spoke of her plan to steal a Time Turner and save Severus, Harry's expression grew grave. He knew the risks, the potential for altering the very fabric of their reality. But he also saw the desperation in her eyes, the haunting emptiness that had taken root where joy should have been. He knew he couldn't leave her to face this alone.
"I'm in," Harry said firmly, his hand squeezing hers. "We'll do this together."
Hermione looked up, her eyes red and swollen from weeks of silent crying. She threw herself into Harry's arms, her body shaking with sobs of relief. "Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder. "Thank you for understanding."
They sat in the quiet embrace for a long moment, the crackling fire their only companion. Finally, Harry pulled back and looked into her eyes, his own filled with determination. "When do we do this?"
"Tonight," Hermione said, her voice steady. "While everyone is leaving the Ministry. We'll be less likely to be noticed."
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the Scottish moors into a tapestry of blues and purples. Hermione and Harry sat by the fireplace, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames. They had spent hours discussing the intricacies of their plan, the potential dangers, and the delicate balance of time they intended to disrupt. Harry had agreed to come with her, not just because she was his friend, but because he knew the depth of her pain and the strength of her love.
They stood up, their faces set with resolve. Hermione pulled out her wand, casting the Disillusionment Charm over both of them. The room blurred, and she felt the familiar weightlessness that came with being invisible. Harry's hand was warm and reassuring in hers as they stepped out into the cool night air. The stars above twinkled with an eerie beauty that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.
The trek to the Ministry was fraught with tension, their footsteps silent on the cobblestone streets of Edinburgh. The Time Turner was hidden within the depths of the Ministry, in a vault that was rumored to be guarded by the most powerful enchantments. But Hermione had done her research, studied the layout, and knew the weaknesses in the security. They apparated to a quiet alley a few blocks away and approached the building from a side entrance, avoiding the main atrium where the Fountain of Magical Brethren stood.
The corridors of the Ministry were eerily empty, the portraits on the walls sat still sleeping as they passed by. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and dust, the only sound their breaths and the occasional whisper of their footsteps. They descended the stairs, deeper into the bowels of the building, until they reached the archway that led to the Time Room. The heavy oak door was sealed with ancient runes that pulsed with a faint blue light, but Hermione had come prepared. She murmured an incantation she had discovered in one of Dumbledore's books, and the runes faded, the door swinging open with a creak.
Inside, the walls were lined with shelves filled with Time Turners, each one a silent testament to moments lost and lives forever changed. She stepped into the room, her heart racing. This was it. This was where she would change the course of her history. Harry followed closely behind, his hand never leaving her shoulder, a silent promise of support.
Her eyes fell on the exact Time Turner she sought: the one Harry had used to save his godfather. It felt warm to the touch, as if it recognized her desperation. She picked it up, feeling the weight of destiny in the palm of her hand. With trembling fingers, she twisted the hourglass, the sands of time shifting within the delicate device. Harry's hand tightened on her shoulder, his eyes reflecting the gravity of what they were about to do.
With a deep breath, they stepped through the archway, the world around them blurring as the fabric of time folded in on itself. The sensation was like falling through an endless void, the air thick with the echoes of moments yet to be lived. When the world came back into focus, they found themselves in the boat house, the same night they had lost Severus. The scent of the lake water was thick in the air, and the distant sound of the battle at Hogwarts served as a grim reminder of the stakes.
As they approached the door, Harry's grip on her shoulder tightened. "Wait," he whispered, his eyes wide. Hermione followed his gaze to the shadows, where she saw the flicker of movement. It was their younger selves, the three of them—Hermione, Harry, and Ron—rushing out of the boathouse, their faces etched with fear and determination. Her heart skipped a beat, realizing the gravity of what they were about to witness.
With a nod, Harry pushed the door open, and they rushed in, their steps echoing through the dimly lit room. Severus lay on the floor, his body contorted in pain, his robes stained with the dark ink of his own blood. The sight of him, so still and lifeless, was almost too much for Hermione to bear. Her breath caught in her throat as she fought back a sob.
Her wand flew to her hand, and she cast the spell she had prepared for weeks. The incantation was ancient, one she had discovered in the Restricted Section, a spell to seal the venom and stop its deadly march through his veins. The air around the wound shimmered as the magic took hold, and she watched in desperation as the skin began to knit itself back together. Harry searched her bag, his hands shaking as he rummaged through the contents. He finally found the bezoars, the shiny stones that could possibly save a life from a basilisk's bite.
With trembling hands, he handed them to Hermione. "Here, hurry," he urged. She took them, her heart hammering in her chest as she crushed the first bezoar and forced it into Severus's mouth. The stone dissolved almost immediately, and she watched, breathless, as the color began to return to his cheeks. The second stone followed, and she waited, her eyes never leaving his face, willing him to live.
A few moments later, Severus's eyes fluttered open, revealing the deep pools of his soul. They searched hers, a silent question in their depths. Hermione felt a sob rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down, her voice steady as she whispered, "You're alive." The words were a prayer, a promise, a declaration of war against fate itself.
He reached up, his hand shaky, and brushed a tear from her cheek. The touch was feather-light, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She leaned down, her eyes never leaving his, and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was soft, tender, a silent confession of love that had been hidden for too long. His hand cupped her face, holding her close as if he were afraid she would vanish like a figment of his imagination.
When they finally pulled apart, Severus's gaze searched hers, a tumult of emotions playing across his features. "Why are you here?" he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "How is this possible?"
Hermione took a deep breath, her hand still cupping his cheek. "We're from the future," she confessed, her voice trembling with the weight of her revelation. "After the battle was over, I couldn't bear the pain of losing you. Harry and I came back to save you because...because I can't live without you." The words tumbled from her lips, a declaration that had been trapped in the depths of her soul for too long.
Severus stared at her, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. His hand reached up to cover hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a gentle caress. "Hermione," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to see me like this, to be a part of my end."
But before she could respond, Harry's urgent whisper cut through the air. "We've got company. We need to go, now." Hermione's heart lurched as she heard the footsteps growing louder, echoing through the boathouse. Their plan was unraveling, and she hadn't even told Severus everything. She leaned down and kissed him again, pouring every ounce of love she had into that one, desperate touch. "I hope to see you again," she whispered against his lips, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
With a final, lingering glance, she allowed Harry to pull her away, his grip firm and insistent. They stumbled back to the archway, the Time Turner feeling like a lead weight in her hand. The sands of time spun faster, urging them back to their rightful place. They stepped through the arch, the world once again swirling into oblivion, and emerged in the Ministry's Time Room, breathless and shaking.