Greyline

September 2nd, 1944. 12:01 am.

The wards around Hogwarts rippled, the pale blue magic shuttering with tiny waves that matched the fast descent of three falling objects. Four things happened at once, simultaneously yet separately.

The First.
Headmaster Armando Dippet shot up in his bed, his aging hand reaching for his wand on his nightstand, the wards having alerted him to the abrupt intrusion of three magical folk. Dippet rose and cast the patronus charm swiftly, sending off a paddle of silver platypus to alert the rest of the staff of the intrusion, and with a sharp swish of his wand was dressed in mere seconds to head outside. He paused at the door of his room, debating for a quick few seconds. With another flick of his wand his mind was made up and one more silver patronus shot off to the Head Boy.

The Second.
Albus Dumbledore was standing atop the astronomy tower, mulling over the position of the stars for the first night of the new school year, when the sky flashed a brilliant gold. He watched with mild curiosity as the magic surrounding the great school was impacted by the arrival of three falling stars. Albus stroked his graying auburn beard thoughtfully and adjusted the half-moon spectacles on his eyes. With a great flourish of his arm he pointed his wand towards the falling stars, now identified as people and murmured an advanced slowing charm. He watched the blue spell shoot off towards the group that was hurtling towards the ground and let out a satisfied whistle as the blue light expanded and stopped them moments before they impacted. Albus surveyed the scene for a moment to ensure there was no movement and set off at a swift pace for the quidditch pitch, where the trio had landed.

The Third.
In the Forbidden Forest under many complex notice-me-not and silencing charms, the Knights of Walpurgis kneeled before their Lord, Tom Riddle. Two of the knights were twitching noticeably, their fists clenched tightly and slightly sunk into the soft ground on which they kneeled. Their Lord watched the seven boys with a neatly blank face, his porcelain skin glowing faintly from the soft light of a dimmed lumos shining from Avery’s wand.

“Our last year has arrived. I will require the most I have yet of you all.” Riddle’s voice was soft, as quiet and dark as the shadows that fell from the trees.

“Yes, my Lord.” His knights intoned as one.

“There is still much to prepare for before the end of the school year. I expect you all to be highly proficient in dueling by Spring. Malfoy -” Riddle abruptly stopped his sentence and looked to the sky.

Malfoy - the one with the icy blond hair - who had raised his head to acknowledge his lord and what was to be asked of him, watched as the sky above him rippled with light. He lowered his eyes to Riddle, watching as his Lord tracked the ripples of magic in the sky and how the light glinted off his eyes in such a way he looked possessed. The other boys raised their heads slowly, unsure if their Lord’s abrupt silence was his intent or not. Lord Voldemort did not tolerate interruptions. They did not have to wonder for long, their eyes shifting to one another to ask in silent countenance what was going on, when the trees ruffled around them and a violent burst of wind almost knocked the knights over. Tom Riddle was unmoved, having already cast a pale yellow shield around himself.

“Our meeting is adjourned. Disillusion yourselves and head back to the dungeons at once.” Riddle met the eyes of each of his knights, lingering on Mulciber.

The boys moved quickly, all murmuring another acknowledgment of their Lord and started disappearing into thin air one by one. Tom watched the little waves in their disillusionment as a wispy silver platypus came swimming at breakneck speed past them. It stopped before Tom and he was not surprised when Dippet’s voice spilled from it.

“Tom, there has been an intrusion to Hogwarts wards. Meet me at the Quidditch Pitch as soon as you get this. Come discreetly and ready with your wand.” The Headmaster's voice was rushed and quiet, disturbing the eerie silence of the forest.

Riddle tilted his head to stare at the animal as it vanished into ribbons of pale light. He did not study it long, before flicking his eyes back to where his knights were leaving the forest in little sweeps and glitches of shadows and trees. He undid the silencing and notice-me-not charms around the area quickly. It would not do to leave any trace of magic on a night this eventful

“Do not get caught.” Riddle called out quietly, knowing they had heard the old man's message.

“Yes, my Lord.” The forest seemed to whisper.

The Fourth.
Hermione vaguely realized that she was falling, and falling fast. Her body was tucked into itself and she felt the wind whipping against her back as she tumbled through the sky. She cracked open her eyes, trying to break through the constant thrumming in her head and regain some sort of conscious thinking.

What had happened? Where was she? Why was she falling? How long had she been falling? The thoughts flew through her mind, but she needed to focus.

It was dark and hard to make out anything but blurs and possible shapes as she kept hurtling downward. She needed her wand. She needed to stop her fall. Hermione clenched her fists, realizing her wand wasnt enclosed in her right one as it usually was. She forced her eyes all the way open and tried twisting her right arm to check her back jeans pocket for her vinewood counterpart. She chanced a glance down, feeling the wind burn her eyes and seeing a bright light that made her flinch and immediately pass out again.

Her eyes snapped open the second time she woke. She was still falling, but clarity filled her mind. The light was bearable this time, soft and welcoming as if she was laying on the golden beaches of France and not hurtling through time and space. Awareness spread through her body and she felt a warm weight on her left forearm, and against the force of the wind Hermione was able to turn her head, goosebumps erupted over her skin as she saw what, no who, was locked onto her arm. Deep and seemingly endless dark robes billowed around her, tearing through the golden light surrounding them and casting shadows all around. Hermione tried ripping her arm free of the two hands clamped down on her, feeling as if they were burning through her skin and damning her to hell.

They might as well be she thought, tears starting to slip from her eyes. It was silent except for the howling wind and the two death eaters' cloaks flapping around them. She tried to speak, tried to find her voice and will a spell to pass her lips, any spell to help her not feel so useless. To stop this endless descent. Hermione tried tugging against the weights on her arm again and felt her heart fill with despair when they would not budge. She shouted spell after spell in her head, trying to find the thread of magic that would spark. She even risked a glance over at the two death eaters attached to her, finding them seemingly passed out and gathered they would be no help at all.

Hermione didn't need to keep wondering what to do for much longer, the trio crashed through Hogwarts wards with such speed that she passed out again.

September 2nd, 1997. 10:30 am.

“Let’s go over the plan one more time.” Hermione demanded, pulling three small bottles from the beaded bag she kept on her at all times.

Ron shot Harry a kill-me-now glance and pushed the few wisps of red hair that had fallen in his eyes to the side of his forehead. Hermione subconsciously made a note in her mind to cut the boys hair when they got back to camp. She twirled a piece of her own curly locks and decided she needed a trim too. Her curls had already grown to her lower back in the past few months they had been hunting for horcruxes. Nevermind that now, though. Ron was still looking at Harry as if he could save him from the argument sure to happen.

“ ‘Mione, we've been over the plan ten times already. Take the polyjuice… head into the Ministry, get the locket and get out.” Ron threw his hands up in the air and gestured to the three unconscious ministry workers they had tied up. “I’d like to get going before they wake up from their stunners.” He added.

Hermione leveled her stare on Harry who had found an interesting spot on the wall. He sheepishly met her gaze and shrugged.

“We’ve been over the plan a lot… all that's left to do is add the hairs to the polyjuice. We just need to do this and get it over with, the sooner we do the sooner we can destroy another horcrux.” Harry’s quiet determination was what Hermione needed.

She sighed and shook her head, agreeing with them. “Just promise me that you two won't do anything brash. Get the locket and get out. Stick to the plan.”

The boys nodded, stepping back and watching as she kneeled by the ministry workers and levitated the bottles in front of her. Hermione brought her wand up and one by one cut a lock of hair from each of the sleeping bodies, careful to put each lock with the designated bottle. Her eyes narrowed as she carefully watched the potions for the bubbling that was supposed to happen. Relief fluttered across her face as they did and she plucked her bottle from the air, gesturing for Ron and Harry to grab theirs as well.

“Bottoms up, boys.” She held the bottle to her mouth and smothered a smile as they toasted to her.

The transformation was painful, as it always was. Growing a few extra inches and feeling her nose elongate made Hermione grimace. She was finished rather quickly though and watched as her best friends' features twisted and pulled. Magic would always be curious to her.

They switched into the clothes of the ministry workers and with a few more adjustments were ready to head out. Hermione was nervous, they were taking a big risk going into such a high security place. She bit her bottom lip, as she always did when she was anxious, and reached into her bag again to grab the DA galleons that she kept with her.

“Here, just in case.” Hermione shoved the coins into the boy's palms.

Ron met her eyes and smiled, saying a soft thank you that sent a pleasurable warmth into her belly. “You always take care of us, ‘Mione.”

She glanced away towards Harry before Ron could see her blush. Now was not the time for figuring out their feelings. Her emotions when it came to Ron always came out of the blue and surprised her. They had bigger things to focus on right now.

“Let’s get going, the polyjuice is already starting to wear off. We’ve got an hour.” Harry started moving towards the door where outside London was bustling.

Hermione brought up the rear, shooting a look towards the ministry workers and contemplating for just a moment before she cast an immobilization and silencing spell in quick succession at them. For good measure, she told herself. She followed the boys out and shut the door warding it with an aversion spell for any muggles who might get too curious.

September 2nd, 1997. 10:45 am.

The Ministry was bustling with wizards and witches rushing to their jobs, to appointments, to whatever witches and wizards did here. Hermione felt claustrophobic in the busy crowd and was struggling to keep an eye on Ron and Harry as they made their way past the checkpoints. She passed the Magic is Might statue, trying to replace the frown that marred her features with an indifferent smile as she took in the bodies of crushed muggles forming the thrones. Her stomach dropped and she counted her breaths; one… two… three…

Hermione glanced around, trying to distract herself from the statue as she searched for the boys again. She smoothed her skirt and turned in a slow circle, as if surveying the room for a friend. She cast a quiet tempus and was relieved to see they still had more than forty five minutes left of polyjuice. Hermione turned abruptly, determined to see this through and head to her part of the plan. She would have to trust Harry and Ron to make it through the checkpoints. They were more than capable. Her sight was focused on the lifts about fifty feet from where she was and she did not see the person she collided with until her shoulder was aching and sore.

Hermione’s lips twisted slightly as she started to breathe a politely snarky remark before she looked up and met the gaze of the person. Her stomach dropped again, this time in fear and surprise. She didn't have the time or the patience for this.

“Better watch where you’re going, yeah? Why don’t you go ahead and pull out that work badge of yours, sweetheart.” The teasing drawl of Theodore Nott was accompanied by a trademark all-teeth smile. His green eyes looked way too bright in the dull palette of the Ministry as he stared down at her.

He was dressed nicely, sharp black robes that were probably more expensive than the stolen shoes on her feet. The Ministry official badge he flashed her glinted silver before he stowed it away again. “Just a quick checkpoint then you can hurry up to your little office, Mafalda.”

Her mouth went dry and she swallowed uneasily. Nott knew the woman she was impersonating, had some sort of knowledge of who she was and how she acted. Hermione groaned internally. She decided to go for the quiet approach, nodding and reaching for Mafalda’s badge and looking down and away from Nott. She saw his foot tap a few times as she fumbled for the ID.

“Nott! Finish up whatever you've got going on there and get over to lift six, we’re needed.” Hermione’s stomach plummeted a third time that day and she wondered briefly if she would be sick here on the floor, on Nott’s shiny black shoes.

She had wondered, and wondered what had happened to Draco Malfoy after the events on the Astronomy tower all those months ago. Hermione supposed she had her answer as she heard his signature posh drawl. She did not dare to glance up at the summons and continued to fumble in her bag for her badge. Nott’s foot sped up, tapping faster and with an unsteady rhythm.

“I didn't know I made you this nervous, Mafalda. You’re going to make me late, sweetheart.” She met Nott’s eyes again and decided to go with what she hoped was a sheepish and hesitant smile.

“I swear I put it in here this morning…” Hermione mumbled and trailed off, still making a show of digging around. She pulled the badge out suddenly and shoved it towards Nott. “Here you go.”

The boy studied it for a moment, and she realized he was still very much as young as her. His face had always been all sharp and high cheekbones but there was a bit of baby fat that lingered in the apples of his cheeks. There were semi-dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a bit unkempt, the dark curled locks resting halfway on his forehead.

She wondered why he and Malfoy had been pulled from their seventh years. Did the Dark Lord not value education in his Death Eaters? She could mull it over later, when she was safe and back at camp with Ron and Harry. Time was ticking and not in her favor right now. Hermione’s ears zeroed in on the clicking of expensive shoes heading towards her and was accosted by the strong scent of sharp mint and something tangy, fruity almost.

She froze like a rabbit.

“I told you lift six, Nott. Do you not have a single sense of urgency in your body?” Malfoy sighed behind her. He sounded older and more tired, she noted. “What is going on with this witch’s badge?”

Nott glanced down at her, sweeping his eyes over her body and back up again, making Hermione feel slightly violated. There was no hint of suspicion in his gaze, she decided. Just Nott being Nott.

Hermione had always felt he was a bit… off. She back tracked and tested the word again in her mind. Not off. More like, feeling. Nott had always been a bit sensitive and always a little too on the mark back in school.

There were many times he had popped up in the Library at the same times as she and always knew what she was feeling, mostly cracking jokes here and there as if he knew she was about to break down crying from stress. She had always thought of the slytherin as different from most of his house.

He continued to study her silently, as if he were waiting for her to break and announce she was Hermione Granger impersonating Mafalda Hopkirk.

Nott shrugged and handed back the badge to her, swiping his fingers on the side of her pinky as he did. Hermione cringed slightly and busied herself with putting the plastic card away.

“Just was chatting with Miss Hopkirk about the howler or two she may have sent my way as a young lad, improper use of magic and all that…” Nott trailed off and shot her a wink. “Have a good day now.” He looked to Malfoy and gestured grandly towards the lifts as if Malfoy was the one who had inconvenienced him.

Hermione heard Malfoy scoff as they walked away, watching the crowd subconsciously move for their tall figures. “She’s old enough to be your mother, Theo.” He shook his icy blond head in disgust.

She was frozen to the ground for a few more seconds before reality caught up with her. That had been way too close of a call. She cast another tempus and cursed quietly. She only had thirty minutes before the potion wore off. By now, Harry and Ron should be at their locations and she needed to be in position in the next five minutes.

Hermione rushed through the crowd towards the lifts, keeping a steady eye on where Malfoy and Nott had gotten on the sixth one. She was confused over her interaction with Nott. She didn't need another run in with them.

As she reached the lifts she felt the coin in her pocket burn and fumbled for it quickly. Her eyes strained to read the message scrawling across it. It took only a split second for her to read the message, the warning, before her gaze shot up to look for the boys and she met the cold silver eyes of Malfoy. In the few seconds she looked at him she noted he looked older… more unhinged.

His eyes had dropped to the galleon in her hand and shot back up to her face, taking in her features. Looking.

He knew. She knew, he recognized it was her. From the galleon she still held. Chaos erupted in the Ministry then and she stumbled back with the force of the crowd of people running away from the lifts. Harry and Ron broke out from one of them, sprinting as if their lives depended on it towards the floos. Which they did.

“Hermione! Hermione where are you! Get to the floo, get to the floo now!” Ron was screaming, running and trying to look for her. People started whipping their heads around, looking for the only girl they knew with that name.

The golden girl. The brightest witch of her age. Undesirable number three.

Hermione felt her features start to shift, felt her legs shrinking back down and her nose turning pert and buttoned again. She was still frozen to the spot, watching Harry and Ron race towards the floos that were being gated off, watching as first Harry and then Ron slammed into the green fire and disappeared just as a metal gate crashed down in front of the entrance. She turned her gaze back to the lifts. Malfoy and Nott were gone. She could not see them, but oh, could she hear them.

“Get the fuck out of the way! Move, move!” Malfoy’s snide voice carried over the crowd of panicking people.

She needed a plan, and she needed one now. The floos were blocked off. That meant exiting the ministry in any normal fashion was off limits and surely by now there would be more officials and Death Eaters searching for her. Everyone had seen Ron and Harry escape, the polyjuice potion wearing off them moments before they disappeared. The galleon burned in her hand again.

“I told you it was fucking her! I knew it!” Nott’s gleeful voice was too close.

Hermione drew her wand and flicked it over herself, changing her clothes into comfortable jeans and trainers to run. She cast a strong disillusionment charm and a sturdy shield around herself. She calmed her mind, calling on the occlumency Harry had been trying to teach her the past few months. She needed to focus and to focus she needed to shut away the anxiety and fear she was feeling. Her mental walls formed into solid, cold, impenetrable ice and froze the fire running through her veins. She needed more time.

Time.

She turned in the crowd, heading back towards the lifts. Malfoy and Nott had disappeared into the crowd, searching for her. She laughed, slightly manic feeling and continued on. This was not how the day had been planned. Hermione had given all that grief to Harry and Ron over sticking to the plan and it was she who had messed it up! What a turn of events.

A turn of events.

She slipped through the little gaps and holes the crowd provided and held tightly onto her wand. If she had to, Hermione would fight her way out. The coin burned again. She wondered if Ron and Harry would come back for her and sent a silent prayer that they wouldn't. They could not jeopardize the mission or themselves to come back for her. She had already prepared a list and some notes that she knew Harry would find if this situation ever occurred. It wasn’t her beaded bag but the things she left would help them nonetheless.

Her thoughts were getting carried away again and she was not ready to accept defeat. Hermione tightened the reins on her mind and re-solidified the ice surrounding her innermost thoughts. The lifts were here and she made a quick decision, following her gut and hopping on the sixth one. Wherever Malfoy and Nott had been headed she was sure she would find something there.

The lift was barely filled, leaving her to slip into the space undetected. She eyed the numbers on the wall, biting her lip and clenching her wand tighter. Her thoughts flashed back to fifth year and the Department of Mysteries. All the prophecies crashing to the ground around her and her friends as they ran and fought for their lives.

She clutched at her stomach absentmindedly, running her fingers up the length of the scar Dolohov had left her with.

The lift gate clattered closed and she was brought out of her memories. Hermione glanced at the other occupants, who were idly chatting about their work day and how the disruption of the Undesirables in the building would cause greater and annoying security measures.

The lift boy started asking what floor everyone was going to and she ran through her knowledge of the building quickly. Level ten had been the Department of Mysteries. She rubbed at her temples, willing her memory to sharpen or for a plan to develop.

Hermione knew she needed to get to the Time Chamber, it was her only chance and she had heard rumors about ministry-level time turners. If she could get her hands on one, she could go back a few hours before this plan erupted into chaos. Convince Harry and Ron that they needed to think this out more, that they should not have ever split up.

A small seed of doubt and hurt welled up behind her heart. Lately it seemed that Ron and Harry had been closer than ever, always taking each other's sides and supporting one another. Just like in first year.

Hermione shook her head in frustration. She needed to work on building her occlumency walls higher as soon as this was over. She needed to work on a lot of things. She needed to get to the Time Chamber.

The lift was moving and soon they were arriving to level five, with most of the people in the lift exiting as soon as the gates lifted. Her luck was growing. Careful not to bump into the remaining two ministry workers she sidled up close to the lift boy. Hermione took a deep and steadying breath before pushing out her magic to brush against the boys.

He would be easy enough to manipulate, she decided, feeling the way his magic moved in gentle ebbing waves against hers. She raised her wand slightly and pointed it at the boy, steadying her hand with another calming breath.

“Imperio.” Her voice was soft and carried like a gentle flowing stream.

A loud, caterwauling alarm broke out as she whispered the word, startling her and making her control on the boy slip. His mind was easy enough to control but the alarm blaring all around and penetrating the small lift was an inconvenience. She faintly heard the other occupants mentioning that individual lift searches would begin soon. She was running out of time and the boy was starting to struggle against her hold.

It’s okay. You don't need to be frightened. I just need you to take the lift to the level that the Time Chamber is located. Stop one level before and ask everyone to exit for their safety. It’s okay.

She repeated the words to him over and over again, willing her magic to be gentle and soft. She took in his features and watched as his eyebrows relaxed, slanting down to uncrease his forehead and saw the fight leave his eyes. They glossed over as if he had been drinking too much and Hermione knew she had succeeded. The lift shot forward and seemed to go a distance before halting suddenly on level eight.

“I need everyone to exit the lift now please.” The lift boy’s face was stoic and did not leave room for argument.

She supposed the alarm still going off helped with that. Hermione licked her lips in anticipation as everyone exited and the lift closed again. She twisted her wand in the direction of the boy and tightened her mental hold on him. It wouldn't do for him to alert anyone. The lift clanged to an abrupt stop.

“Arriving at level nine, the Time Chamber.”

The galleon in Hermione’s pocket burned three times as the gate lifted.