Cor phlebotomans

Death was not supposed to feel like this… again.

How often will Hermione have to go through this?

She was a bit cold, the frost was creeping into her the longer she held her breath and waited. For what she waited, she wasn’t quite sure.

The coldness though was fitting. Death was supposed to be a lifeless hand reaching for one’s soul. It was supposed to be cold and devoid of any warmth. Maybe she really had died for good this time.

Then again, the dust filling her lungs was not very death-like. As wasn’t the pain that spread through her body with every passing second.

It started as a little burn in her joints but as the Adrenalin in her blood ebbed away it grew into a wildfire. She felt like she had broken several bones. Maybe she had? Were bones even a thing in the afterlife? Why couldn’t Hermione seem to get death right?

Maybe she was just strange. Because as the feeling in her limbs returned and she heard herself groan in pain, she realised with exasperation that she hadn’t died. Again.
The thought seemed to swim around her sluggish mind for a few seconds without registering fully.

She ripped her eyes open. She wasn’t dead. Had Grindelwald missed her? Who had been hit instead? Tom? Was Tom dead?

Hermione pushed herself up, gripping her wand tightly, ready to face whomever and whatever.

Her head hit something, making her groan once more. Why was she under a table?

Feeling a bit silly and not very threating, she crawled into the open. Her knees scratched against the hard floor, and her palms pressed against the coldness of it. She blinked into the darkness that lay before her, trying to make out the hidden figures of Grindelwald and maybe even Tom.

However, after her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she realized that she was completely alone.

The long room stretched our before her, very much empty and silent. Hermione blinked again, clutching her wand like a lifeline. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what had happened. Had they thought her dead and left her here?

She pushed herself up and stood on shaking knees, tasting blood on her tongue again.

Another groan left her bloodied lips. With trembling hands she checked herself over. Her body protested every movement with sharp stabs of pain but ultimately she was fine. Her head was pounding a bit, her mouth was dry but she was very much alive.

A terrifying thought came to her mind. Hysterically she grabbed her time-turner that was still hanging from her neck.

The broken glass cut her finger deeply. Bright red blood dripped from the tip of it and landed on the ground with soft tapping noise.  

Not caring for the sharp pain from the cut, Hermione ripped the stupid time-turner from her neck, ripping its fine chain. The turner was completely ruined.

Where it only had a few fractures the first time around, it was in total shards now. With a cry of total frustration and rage she threw the offending piece of jewellery far away from her. It flew through the empty room and cluttered to the ground, more glass spilling around it.

It was the only sound in the room and echoed from the walls unnaturally loud. It sounded hollow to Hermione’s ears. It sounded like laughter that was mocking her for being so stupid to having kept the turner. She had made the same mistake twice.

Falling to her knees, Hermione finally gave in.

Tears ran over cheeks, blood still dripping over her hand and to the floor. For a small eternity, Hermione just cried, her forehead touching the cold ground.

She lost everything again.

She lost Tom, she lost Harry, she lost Ron… She didn’t even know if Tom survived.

She knew nothing, not even where she was or when, for that matter. She didn’t know how long she sat on the ground crying and sobbing. However, slowly her mind returned to its calm preciseness as her confusing emotions ebbed away, fading into the background.

Abruptly, Hermione’s eye flew open again. Something was tickling her mind. It was as if she should notice something, like her subconscious had already pieced it together and now it was her time to see all the puzzle pieces.

The floor had lost the particular smell she had noticed the first time.

The strange dust-like substance was also absent. Hope flared in Hermione’s chest. Could it be? Maybe she hadn’t jumped back that far. Maybe just enough time to…

*

The resounding crack and thud of a body hitting the brittle piece of furniture echoed through the room. Splinters of wood were catapulted away and covered that what had been left behind by his Hermione. Dust rose and swirled through the air, tracing patterns in elaborate swirls.

She had been the first one, the first human being for which he had felt something, even if at first he had only been suspicion.

His happiness, his Hermione, had run through his fingers like sand, he should have gripped her and just held on.

Because now it was over, just as quickly as it had begun. Her life was gone, vanished with the wind and she had left him behind.

He felt anger rising in him, denial… because she had left him, dammit! How could she? He felt so empty, so terribly empty. It was as if his soul had left him them moment she had, too.

Or at least the piece that was left of his soul, which wasn’t much but it had been so full of light and… love, he guessed, when he had been with her. He had wanted her for him, only for him, ever only for him.

Because she was his, just as much as he was hers.

But now… now everything was gone. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to keep him grounded, nothing to make him want to be better. There was no one he could try to be a better man for. No one… he was alone. She had left him. Just like his mother had. He had never been enough to keep people in this world. Death followed him where ever he went. Nobody held onto life just for him, they were all gone…

His magic was dark, her magic was light, his soul was lost without her and he knew that now while he stood in the room, alone once again.

And his anger, it was a dark pit of hatred and of so much power, fuelled by his grief and his hatred for the man that had taken her from him. She was his! Nobody had the right to take her. But she was gone! Gone…

If he hadn’t been blinded by unshed tears he would have savoured the seemingly endless pit of power that had opened itself to him.

Something that always been there but had been buried deep inside of him. It was as if he had been cracked open, the last straw, so to say.

He had succumbed to the darkness. Everything he wanted was to kill the man in the most excruciating way possible and he would.

He would make him suffer a thousand deaths and in the end he would savour the cold, dead blood running through his fingers and he would laugh. Because she was gone and never to return.

His wand had risen without him knowing.

His magic like a full fletched storm raging through the lands, destroying everything and everyone. He only left death behind. She had been the light to his darkness and without her there was only the endless blackness of the sea, hatred so fierce and dark that it swallowed everything else.

He didn’t even need spells anymore, his magic just ripped itself from him, hurtling to the man that had killed his Hermione and who would suffer… suffer so much…

Tom knew, he just knew, that the man wouldn’t be able to do anything against his magic because he, Tom, was more powerful in the face of the endless grief and hatred.

It was a storm, it was lightning, it was magic… And it was… nothing…

The air shifted, it grew cold, magicless… It was like a vacuum, the endless pit of dark magic that Tom had felt a second ago was gone…

Just evaporated into nothingness, lost in the wind… Nothing happened and wasn’t that just ironic. Not only had he lost her but also his magic. How delightful…

Stunned silence settled over the two men, both their wand raised.

Suddenly the craftfully carved sticks, which normally stood for so much, so much power, dark and light, and stood for a whole society of might and magic, were nothing more than just that… sticks.

“Avada Kedabra…”, Grindelwald’s voice broke the silence. “Recucto. Crucio. Imperio.”

With a face of wonder Gellert Grindelwald looked at his wand… and shook it.

Like it was some kind of device that seemed to malfunctioning.

“Erm…”, he continued, apparently at a loss. “That is peculiar…”

Tom blinked at the man. Peculiar… that was a way to put it. Tom wasn’t sure what to say or do. He felt strangely adrift.

The door opened suddenly with a loud thud.

And maybe everything had happened a bit too fast for Tom. He usally prided himself in always knowing the game that was being played.

He saw things, noticed them. He always knew. No matter how complicated, he usually figured it out. He was always on top of the situation.

But now he just stared… because Hermione was dead and definitely not standing in the door way looking like she always does. Only with no blood caking her hair and face. No, because that could be impossible. Maybe he had started hallucinating?

“Hello, again. Gellert, Tom, it has been a while. Well, not for you but for me anyway.”

Hermione Jean Granger was standing in the doorway, her hair just as unruly as usually, her clothes fresh and not dusty and muddy like they had been just a moment ago. And in her hand she was… carrying guns? Tom’s eyes were glued to the muggle weapons she was holding in her hands because… what?

“Hermione?”, he asked, his voice hoarse and unbelieving. She glanced at him and smiled.

“Yes Tom, it’s me.”

Her voice floated towards him, filling his soul and heart.

A tiny slither of hope fluttered in his chest. But Tom had been disappointed too much in his life. It could not be that fate gave this, gave her, back to him. Fate hated him and had only ever brought bad things. It couldn’t be.

“What the fuck.” Gellert Grindelwald said, his Elder Wand still gripped in his hand. “Are you doing here? Is this not working?”, he asked, shaking his wand again. “I killed you”, the latter sounded a bit like a sulking child whose favourite toy wasn’t working anymore.

“Raymond I would stay on the ground if you don’t want to be shot.”, Hermione suddenly said, every pair of eyes went to Raymond Nott who had been released from his body bind and was trying to right himself again.

Hermione took a few steps into the room, going straight for Tom.

Raymond stared at the woman in front of him with wide eyes and slumped back to the ground. Hermione didn’t care, she only had eyes for the boy in front of her. Dark eyes, the most intense she had ever seen them, were staring at her shining with unshed tears.

She stared into the dark orbs and found fragile hope in them. Hope that it was indeed her.

“Hi”, she whispered when she reached him.

Her hand raised itself on its own accord as to touch him but Hermione stopped a breath away from his face. There would be time later. She had to hurry. Otherwise this wouldn’t end well.

Turning she spoke loudly.

“I think we can all agree that you all don’t know what happened. Now… I will explain everything but Raymond, be a dear, and stand next to Gellert.

You all don’t have magic anymore but I have Muggle weapons and I will not hesitate to use them.”

Raymond, confused to the mixed orders he was getting, slowly rose from his position. His eyes stayed on Hermione as to check if she really meant it. He wouldn’t risk the wrath of a woman who had just lived through the killing curse.

“They are muggle” Gellert spat, taking a step in her direction “what could they ever-“

A loud bang ripped through the air. Raymond jumped and leapt, where to, he didn’t know.

He didn’t even know what those weapons did. The next second he saw Gellert crumble, clutching his thigh.

The wizard screamed in pain, his leg giving out and blood pouring from his wound. Apparently something had embedded itself in Gellerts wound.

Raymond stared in disbelief.

“Now, I think we have established who holds the power here.”, Hermione said as soon as Grindelwald had finally quietened down, his face pale and covered in a sheen of cold sweat.

“You fucking bitch”, he hissed, still clutching his thigh.  “You should have stayed dead.”

“Well, you see, I was never dead.”, Hermione answered.

She smiled up at Tom, who was beginning to understand. His Hermione was not dead, she was alive and she was next to him. Hope bloomed in his chest like a blossom in the first stages of spring.

His Hermione had not left him, she was still here. She handed him one of the guns she was holding in her hand. He took it gingerly, letting his hands brush over her cheek. She was real! She was alive! He had to touch her. He had to! He would never let her go again, he promised silently. His hand grabbed hers, his finger brushing over her pulse. A steady rhythm greeted him.

 “You know Gridelwald, I landed here in this time by accident. I am from about fifty years in the future.”

Grindelwald slowly seemed to understand that there had been some things, he couldn’t have anticipated. It slowly dawned on his face. It was truly spectacular, like watching the sun set.

“What?”, Nott said, his voice incredulous. “That’s bullshit, that can’t be.”

“Oh, but it is. Before you ask Grindelwald, no you don’t reign in the future. You are rotting away in some kind of prison. Nobody is afraid of you. No, we have our own dark wizard, way worse than you have ever him. The First Wizarding War began 1970 and ended in 1981. It ended with the dark wizard dying because of a fatal mistake. I won’t bore you with the details but the name of the wizard was Lord Voldemort.”

Nott gasped audible and took a step back, his eyes glued to Tom.

“Or, as only his friends knew him, Tom Marvolo Riddle. If you change the letters a bit they spell I am Lord Voldemort. In my time he was only called You-know-who because nobody even wanted to say his real name. I spent my last year on the run from this dark wizard and before I accidently landed myself in the past, I was fighting a big battle right on Hogwarts grounds. I, or rather my necklace, was hit by a killing curse. Just like a few moments ago.”, Hermine said and pulled on the chain around her neck.

The golden timeturner dangled from her finger. It was completely cracked through, the glass having fallen away and the gold not as shiny as it used to be. It definitely didn’t work anymore.

“The first time it sent me back fifty years, the second time only two weeks before breaking completely and now being beyond repair. So you see, what had only been a few seconds for you, has been a pretty long time for me. Enough time to come up with a plan."

Hermione grinned at to the men in front of her. Raymond had turned whiter and whiter by the second. Even for a wizard this story was completely absurd.

“You see, I finally understand why Moonstone is scattered around the room. I noticed it the second I woke up here. At the time I thought it was simply a coincidence”, Hermione gestured around the room.

For some the Moonstone only looked like dust but the distinct earthy smell had given it away.

“So first things first, why the Moonstone? The perks of being from the future. There is a kind of ritual that can temporarily bind all magic in a limited space. A key ingredient is Moonstone. But the best part is that he was invented 1972. So none of you could know what the Moonstone was doing here. Second, I left Tom a note with the location of this house. After all, it was under the Fidelus charm but you enclosed it to me, so I could give it away, too.”

“That was you?”, Tom asked.

He had found a letter from Grindelwald, explaining everything and a note sticking to it, telling him where to go. Hermione only nodded.

At the time he had thought it to be a trap. But he had walked into it willingly, his only thought on Hermione. Hermione who would have been alone and probably in pain. He had to do something.

“Then I had to get these”, she gestured at the guns they were holding. “That was, surprisingly, the hardest part. And then I contacted the Ministry with a Patronus, before coming here. They should be coming in about… now.”

A crack was heard somewhere, indicating people apparating. The sound was muffled by the walls that surrounded them but it was clear to them all that Aurors were somewhere in the house and would come to this room any second now.

“Obliviate”, the two men fell to the ground with a heavy thud. “Well, now they won’t remember.”, Hermione said and threw her gun to the ground, kicking them with her feet so the slid far away from them.

“I think I look a bit too put together, don’t you think?”, she pointed her wand at herself, tearing her own clothes in some places and covering herself in dust and mud.

She nodded to herself. This had to be at least half believable.

This was her chance to change the whole future. Her chance to give Tom the opportunity he never had. A way in. A shortcut, just as she had said to Slughorn.

“Hermione”, Tom finally said, his brain running wild with the information that he had been given.

He didn’t even care. He pulled her into his arms, pressing her to his chest, and letting his head settle on the top of her head. He breathed in, finally having her again. She wasn’t dead. She was alive. She hadn’t left him.

“Don’t ever”, he chocked out, “do that to me again, do you understand? Never.”

His voice broke at the last word, and he pressed her more tightly to him.

Hermione only encircled him with her arms.

“I love you, Hermione.”, Tom whispered. “And I am that man who would give everything up for you. I don’t want to be the man you described from your future. I want to be your husband and I want to make you happy. I want…”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears.

“I want that too, Tom, I only want you.”, she whispered back. The door to the room was ripped open but the two only looked at each other.

Shouts were heard but Hermione didn’t listen. She only looked at Tom, the man she loved.

“What the fuck happened here?”, the tall lanky Auror asked as he finally reached them, shifting his weight and watching them curiously.

“You got my Patronus?”, Hermione asked, her voice thick with tears.

Silently she was glad that she sounded so shaken. Even if it was for different reasons.

“Yes, that was yours? How the fuck did you do that?”, the Auror said, still weary.

Hermione sniffed, tears still running down her face.

The other Aurors, in their long black robes, were binding Grindelwald and Nott in the background.

“Oh, it was terrible.”, Hermione said with as much fright in her voice she could muster. “I was taken by this… lunatic. Apparently Raymond Nott was a spy in Hogwarts for Grindelwald and they knew that Dumbledore was a family friend. They wanted to get to him through me. But Tom.”, Hermione clutched Tom’s arm and turned to him with big eyes.

The Auror finally shifted his attention to the tall young man next to the distressed woman.

“Tom was so brave, he came to my rescue and together we fought against Grindelwald. I sent a Patronus to the Ministry and together we were able to get Gellert Grindelwald. It was a fierce battle but I have to admit, Tom did most of the work.”, Hermione finished and winked at Tom.

Her back was to the man. He didn’t see the sly smile spreading over her face.

Tom fingers dug into Hermiones arm, where he was still holding her, not ready to let her go.

The Auror in front of him nodded eagerly, respect sparkling in his eyes.

A man defeating Grindelwald, even if he was young, he could believe but not such a small woman.

That was just ridiculous.

She probably only hid behind the young man. The Auror nodded again.

That made sense. After all, he could feel the magic pulsating around the young man, he must be most powerful.

“Well, I think the whole world will thank you, Mister…?”

“Tom, Tom Riddle, Sir.”