Prologue
Hermione didn't know what happened. Everything was a blur from the moment they got captured by the Snatchers. She remembered shooting a stinging hex to Harry, and Ron's loud pleadings for Bellatrix to take him instead of her. The next thing she knew, she was on the cold marbled floor, writhing in pain and shielding her mind as best she could, with only the help of the very minimal occlumency training she endured before the horcrux hunt. All she knew was the searing pain consuming her whole body, the blood dripping down her arms, and silver eyes dragging her away after the echoing thuds of the elder Malfoy's bodies.
"Granger," hissed a very familiar voice. Hermione only whimpered, tired and wracked with pain. It must've been another few minutes before she finally was able to open her eyes. And once she did, she wished she hadn't. Draco Malfoy stood, quite impatiently, hovering over her body. She was in an altar of some sort, she came to realize. The stone slab was cold on her backside and the cold seemed to help freshen up her mind. Her eyes expertly surveyed her surroundings despite the darkness before snapping back to Draco Malfoy's figure.
"I don't have much time. The Dark Lord has dispatched all the death eaters to look for us. Everyone in the Order of The Phoenix either died or has sweared their allegiance to the Dark Lord. It's been a week since you were... incapacitated by my dear aunt. Potter and Weasley are dead ever since all of you were foolishly captured. You need to go back," Malfoy spoke quickly, quietly.
Hermione barely registered his words. "W-What? Malfoy, where am I? What happened? H-How did H-Harry and--and Ron die?" Hermione asked, her mouth feeling dry and the sinking feeling in her stomach doubled. Malfoy only glared and sighed. "The Dark Lord. Granger, what do you remember?" He asked. Hermione frowned, furrowing her eyebrows as she tried her best to recollect the last few, crucial moments that she remembered. "Not much," she ended up replying. "I remembered being dragged to Malfoy Manor by snatchers. And--And Ron yelling. I remembered being..." she trailed off quietly. Malfoy heaved a great sigh.
"Well it's been a week, exactly, since your capture. After you passed out, Bellatrix ordered me to dispose of you She called the Dark Lord to the manor. Mother and Father turned spies for The Order of the Phoenix after I was marked. They tried to defend Potter and Weasley, and were killed along with your friends. You're currently in a warded part of Malfoy Manor. Underground, to be precise... Far below the dungeons. Everyone's dead, Granger. Your wand was destroyed, I should mention. I'm going to send you back to 1965," He explained. Hermione had trouble processing the onslaught of information but managed a nod.
Everyone's dead...
Ron was dead... Harry was dead.
"Can you stand?" He asked, offering a hand to the witch. Hermione took it. She wobbled but swiftly regained her footing. If Malfoy let her lean on him a bit, she remained silent about it. "What is this place?" She whispered, able to see the runes and symbols carved onto the surrounding stones a bit better. "It's a ritual altar. All the Noble and Ancient Manors have it. It's safe," He whispered back.
"How are you going to send me back? You're coming as well, right?" Hermione asked, changing the topic quickly. From the very first time Malfoy had explained the events, she had swallowed all her emotions and feelings down. She drowned the noises, screaming in her head, and the aches in her heart by a wave of indifference. Compartmentalizing was what it was, Tonks had told her, but Hermione knew it was an oversimplification.
"No, I can't," Malfoy answered. Hermione frowned even more and before she could comment on it, Malfoy spoke again. "I'm going to cover your back so that you can make the journey to 1965, Granger. Besides, the time turner only works for one person. Can you stand on your own?" Hermione nodded, and before she knew it, he was already gone from her side. Not far, she knew. He came back with a vial, a velvet green pouch, and her pink beaded bag. "Granger, are you coherent enough to listen, or are we both going to die today?" Hermione glared, gritting her teeth, not bothering to dignify that with an answer. Malfoy smirked but his face quickly scrambled back into that passive indifference mask so many purebloods wore.
He handed her the pouch with a quiet carefulness. "That's the time turner. Open the pouch and put it around your neck. It will resize to a shorter chain once you've put it on. Make sure to do this before we go out. Inside the pouch is also my Malfoy Heir ring and a letter to my grandfather, Abraxas. Wear the ring and do not forget to give him the letter." Hermione immediately did as he told her, not wanting to put the time turner and ring on at the last minute. Once she was done, she pocketed the pouch and letter. He proceeded to hand her a crystal vial filled with a pale pink potion and her bag. "It's a de-ageing potion of Snape's own invention. It's permanent. Once you drink it, you will not revert back to this age after 4 hours. I gave you enough dosage to turn you back into a newborn baby. You can figure out the appropriate dosage along with my grandfather once you arrive at 1965." Hermione nodded, placing the vial into her bag.
"Anything else?" Hermione asked. He gave her a sharp nod. "Once we arrive in the family drawing room at the second floor, I will disillusion you. I'll cover your front and back lest we get caught by his minions. Turn the knob of the time turner exactly 7 times and clearly say 1965. According to the Malfoy Journals, you'll feel as if you're falling, do not be alarmed. When you arrive at the Manor, talk to my grandparents and give my grandfather the letter. Show him the ring as proof. Figure out the correct dosage of the potion, drink it. Save my family. Win," He spoke fiercely, his eyes hardening the more he spoke. "Do you understand, Granger?" He asked.
Hermione attempted a smile. "I understand."
Of course she understood. It was hard not to. The instructions he laid out was simple:
1. Turn the knob exactly 7 times, and say 1965.
2. Drink the de-ageing potion.
3. Save the Wizarding World from a sociopath, keen on genocide and oppressing muggle-borns (and save the Malfoys too).
4. Win.
Without much warning, the Malfoy apparated them out and to some floor of the manor. "The family room is just around the corner. I'll disillusion you now, put your hand on my shoulder so I know you're not lost," Malfoy quietly whispered. Hermione nodded and did as followed. It wouldn't do arguing with the Malfoy heir when there's a perfectly reasonable plan laid out to follow. She desperately wishes she has her wand though.
It seems their presence triggered an alarm. Death eaters began to pop in out of nowhere, and spells began to bombard them. As Malfoy had said, he covered her adequately. She got into place by the furnace and squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you, Malfoy."
"Save my family, Granger," was his parting words.
"I will," Hermione whispered back. Malfoy only responded with a nod. She took out the time turner, turned the knob precisely 7 times. "1965," she commanded the turner. Just before she blinked out of existence from the year 1998, she saw a jet of green hit Draco Malfoy square in the chest.
She had a war to win.