The Corpse behind the Hourglass

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Voldemort drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. It was the kind of idle action that was not a good omen. If Voldemort was restless, then it never boded well for any of his accomplices. Usually it meant one was eliminated permanently or at the very least, tortured severely for not fulfilling their job as a death eater properly or bringing the wrong sort of information to light.

Lucius, knowing exactly who would have to face Voldemort's wrath-or who was at the moment, rather-simply wore the sardonic grin that witnessing other's pain always brought to his face. Wormtail writhed in agony as the spell he was encased in increased its hideous effects.

Voldemort spoke in measured tones. "You knew that your mistake would have to be punished. Sending the boy back was a smart move, but a mistake none the less." He raised his wand to point it at the glowing orb surrounding Wormtail and Wormtail pleaded in his whiny voice. "Please...master...please...I won't fail you again...I promise...just let me live...please..."

Voldemort shrugged. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"Useful...I can be useful."

"Why should you? You never have been." Voldemort made to raise his wand again and then suddenly paused."Yet...I think...I think I will spare your life. But fail, and I assure you, I will not be nearly so lenient again. I have one last job for you." He looked at Lucius. "And you as well."

The orb around Wormtail vanished and Wormtail fell to the cold cobblestones, his face still cringed in pain. He and Lucius spoke as one. "Anything you wish, master."

"Draco Malfoy has been sent back to the past because of your foolish blunder, but he is not the only one. A girl, Hermione Granger, has as well. You will follow them to whatever year you have sent them to and stay as long as is necessary to make sure of two things. One, that the girl doesn't allow Draco to be killed again as he once was. Two, that they never meet Salazar, for that would be the end of everything."

Both Lucius and Wormtail nodded fervently. Suddenly, Voldemort smiled, but not from joy, it was the kind of smile that one wore when one knew that he was only a short while away from victory. A bloody victory. "When you are done with both of those things, you will then summon me." Voldemort pressed idly turned the ring of obsidian around and around his finger. Once, he had been forced to share the same body as that idiot Quirrell. But since far before then, he had already been sharing his soul with another. Salazar Slytherin. " With Salazar on my side, Godric Gryffindor will find me a most worthy adversary indeed."

He went back to looking at his two death eaters that remained. "Go now." He gave one last scornful glance at Wormtail. "You would be well advised to watch your step. We cannot afford such mistakes again. I'm afraid if another one was to occur, you would find yourself in a most unpleasant situation."

Voldemort needed to explain no further. Cowering, Wormtail bowed out of the chamber, his face facing Voldemort's all the way. It did not pay to turn your back on the dark lord.

* * * * *

Draco stopped dead in his tracks, staring. Wormtail? What was he doing here? According to Voldemort's plans for the sixth year as Draco remembered them, Wormtail was supposed to show up at the end of the semester, not the beginning.

A split second was all Draco had to stare before Wormtail's incantation was complete and a wave of black shot forth from the wand in both Draco's and Hermione's direction. Before the spell fully eclipsed both his mind and his body, Draco had one last thought as he saw the person standing behind Wormtail. The person with blond hair, eyes the color of an icy morn, and an expression to match. In short, the illustrious figure that was himself.

Draco's last unfinished thought was drowned out as he fell backwards from the force of the spell, hitting his head hard upon the wooden back of one of the train's seats.

Draco was standing in front of Hermione...or had been, rather. She watched him topple from the spell. He was the only thing that had saved her from a similar fate. So far. Hermione didn't doubt Wormtail would try to use the spell on her again. Just exactly what he was doing at Hogwarts she didn't have time to wonder, neither did she have time to focus on Ron, and Harry, who had just run into the compartment, followed by Professor McGonagall and a figure that was a mirror image of Hermione herself.

Ron, Harry looked back and forth in shock-from the Hermione at their side to the Hermione standing in front of Wormtail. Even McGonagall was temporarily floored. Two of her? But how?

Hermione had only time enough to pull out her wand and begin hastily chanting a counterspell under her breath. But it was too late. Wormtail had retaliated faster than Hermione had counted on and before she knew it, she too was hit by the spell and thrown backwards from the force of it.

* * * * *

Trapped. He was trapped in a small space with no way out. Caught like a fly in a giant web. Unable to move. A coffin? He was being buried alive?

Draco lashed out with his arms and feet in panic, but something stilled his efforts. A damp piece of cloth, cool to the touch, was being pressed against his forehead, sending calm radiating throughout his body.

Opening his eyes, Draco found himself facing the sight he least wanted to see first thing when he woke up. Granger, asleep in the bed next to him. Thank goodness she wasn't awake. He didn't think he could deal with her right then. His head hurt something awful and a nasty aftertaste still clung inside his mouth.

Turning from on his side to lie on his back, Draco realized the only thing trapping him was a bundle of feather comforters and sheets tucked tightly around him. A form wearing a nurse's old fashioned head attire and a set of white robes was just then bustling out of the room, muttering something as she left.

Of course. The infirmary. He should have known. Draco strained to remember what had happened awhile before and it was all he could do to picture Wormtail's face as he had brandished his wand aboard the train...any more than that and memories came rushing back, many memories. Memories that had nothing to do with the incident on the train. Memories overcrowding his brain until he was forced to sink back into the pillows in confusion and defeat.

Hermione awoke to a dull throbbing sensation in her head. She took a minute to take in her surroundings; the beds lined up all along the wall, the high ceiling covered with odd paintings that appeared to be moving, and last of all, the blonde haired boy tossing and turning in the bed next to hers. Upon seeing him, something within her memory seemed to awaken.

She almost knew who he was...but yet she couldn't quite grasp it. A stranger. Everything seemed strange. Why was she here? Hermione struggled to remember yet came up with nothing. The only thing that came to mind was a name. Hermione. Her name? She thought it was, from the familiarity she associated with it.

She worriedly turned her attention towards the boy, whose thrashing had abruptly stopped as he lay still. "Are you quite alright?"

The boy put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, the panic he seemed to have been in earlier had vanished without a trace, hidden behind a well placed smirk.

"Other than seeing your face and thinking I was in a living nightmare, fine."

Hermione frowned. He had just insulted her. He had to know her then somehow. Unless he was simply one of the sort that liked to lash out insults at whoever was nearest to target for such abuse.

"Do I...know you?"

"You could say as much. We weren't exactly what you would call real chummy."

"I didn't think we were." Hermione rolled over to look at him. "I figured more along the lines of arch rivals."

"You figured right". So Hermione still didn't remember. He hadn't either until a few minutes ago. Draco hoped the full effect of Wormtail's spell weren't any more major than what he thought it was. Temporary memory loss didn't exactly seem to be the light sort of torture that one of Voldemort's followers would go out of his way to do, however.

"Seeing as you seem to have some sort of amnesia, allow me to unveil my personal bio."

Hermione was very quickly realizing just what irritating sort of person she had gotten stuck with. "Ugh. In that case, I should just go to sleep now and save myself the trouble."

Draco just smirked once again in her direction. "I'm the person who makes you miserable all through Hogwarts until their tragic demise. In Slytherin, devilishly good looking.."

It was then the recognition of his face came to Hermione. Draco. Draco Malfoy. With his name came a flood of memories-Wormtail pointing his wand at them both, two boys, one girl, and a teacher watching in shock. The two boys...Ron and Harry. The teacher...McGonagall. But the girl? She looked like Hermione. Exactly like Hermione. She didn't have a twin, did she? With Hermione's memory finally coming back, Hermione was quite sure she did not. Who was that girl, then?

Hermione cut Draco off. "Goodness, no one can hit their head THAT hard. I could have had my skull bashed flatter than a pancake and I still would know that you are an annoying, arrogant git."

"Your memory seems to be coming back rapidly," Draco observed. "But I feel compelled to mention that you left off incorrigible villain, clever rule breaker, sexiest.."

"Ferret of the year?" added Hermione with a bit of a grin. "You know, that's the one other thing I remember now. You bouncing down the hallways as a rodent."

"And I seem to remember the time you looked suspiciously like a Walrus wearing a wig."

Hermione sighed and massaged her aching forehead with her fingers. "I would have a comment to that, but I think I'll let it go just this once, seeing as my head feels like it was just rammed into by a bludger with Goyle riding atop."

"Not far from it."

"You saw?" asked Hermione curiously.

"Only the underpit of your lovely arm before I blacked out."

"Be serious. Did you see her?," persisted Hermione.

"See who?"

"The girl. Looked exactly like me. I only got a glimpse of her, but I could have sworn.."

"No," said Draco shortly, deciding not to mention the boy he had seen that had been an exact carbon copy of himself. " I was a bit preoccupied. It's hard to focus when you're busy getting barreled into by the woman of steel herself."

Their was the sound of pattering feet as Madame Pomfrey came back in, rushing right over to Hermione's and Draco's respective beds. "Both of you now, don't talk. I'm afraid you aren't fully recovered yet." She tutted tutted. "Really, I don't know what Hogwarts security is coming to."

"Would you prefer the dementors to be back again?"

Dumbledore stepped into the room. "Of course not, but really, when you-know-who's followers can step unto the train as easy as you please and harm to innocent students."

Hermione gave a little cough. She strongly doubted Draco would be innocent even if he had a halo surrounding his head.

"That matter is being attended to. Besides, I see no permanent damage caused."

"Other then to their fragile minds, poor dears." At this, Draco hid his face behind his blanket and Hermione had a strong suspicion he was laughing. Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "All too true, but it was only temporary."

"Luckily," said Madame Pomfrey darkly. "I shudder to imagine what the result would have been if the spell used was something more lethal."

"Both Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy are, I'm sure, as ecstatic it wasn't as you are. Could you give me a minute alone to talk to them both?"

"I suppose, but not for too long. They are both in very delicate condition." And Madame Pomfrey left, giving Dumbledore a look as if she expected him to jinx Hermione and Draco the minute she was out of sight.

Hermione leaned forward in her bed and began unwrapping a chocolate frog. Draco noticed she had loads of candy and cards piled up from various friends and well-wishers while he had nothing. Not that he had expected anything. For a minute he amused himself by imagining Crabbe and Goyle showing up with bouquets of pink flowers and balloons. If they ever did, Crabbe or Goyle would probably get hungry halfway to the infirmary and eat the flowers themselves. He wouldn't put it past them. Once, in the first year, they had eaten plastic fruit thinking it was real, and the number of times they fell for those twin Weasley's stupid canary cream trick was a sad thing to think of.

"Professor?" Hermione asked, her voice coming out slurred because of the chocolate she was munching on, "would you know anything about a girl that looks a good deal like me?"

Malfoy snickered. "Only one girl could ever look like you. I didn't know moaning myrtle had taken to haunting the train."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "As a matter of a fact, I do indeed. There seems to be a young man that looks like Draco here as well. Ron and Harry came to see me about the matter earlier. Very disturbed. Seemed to wonder why there were two versions of their best friend lurking around."

"I somehow take it they didn't mean me," muttered Draco.

"Ah, but a certain Padma was worried about you, Draco Malfoy. Seemed to think she was at last becoming as talented at hallucinating as Professor Trelawney when she saw two of you on the train." Huh, thought Hermione, only time that old bat had ever hallucinated was when she lit three different kinds of incense at once.

"What did you tell all of them?" Hermione was surprised to actually detect a hint of worry in Draco's voice.

Dumbledore shrugged. "That some errant students decided attempt to polymorph into Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Both students have been sent up to my office this very minute for reprimanding. Mister Potter and Mister Weasley in particular didn't seem to have much trouble believing my story, perhaps because they have done as much before themselves."

"Story?" Hermione finished the last of her chocolate frog and stepped out of bed, glad that she was still fully clothed. "So you didn't tell them the truth."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I may have stretched it a bit."

* * * * *

Draco and Hermione made to enter Professor Dumbledore's office, but both stopped in the doorway upon seeing the three people already standing there. Draco glared at Draco. Hermione glared at Hermione. And most surprisingly of all, Dumbledore glared at Dumbledore.

It was as if all three were staring into a giant mirror. Suddenly, the Dumbledore that Hermione and Draco had walked in with moved forward, spoiling the effect.

The other Dumbledore spoke. "Just what do you think you're doing in MY office?"

"Sorry, but this is necessary." Dumbledore pulled out his wand, gave it a swish and muttered a few words. The desired effect happened immediately. Hermione felt an immense pain in her chest as everything seemed to turn surreal. Next to her, the same thing was happening to Draco and to the mirror versions of both of them as well. Only the person in Dumbledore's likeness remained untouched.

"Right. Which two of you are really Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy?"

All four answered. Hermione could hear her voice, but she wasn't aware of her lips even moving. It seemed as it came from someone else and sounded oddly forced.

"We are."

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course you all are. How could I have not known? What I meant was, which two of you are the ones from the future?"

The clones of Hermione and Draco said nothing. Hermione's voice came from Dumbledore's left and Draco's voice came from Dumbledore's right.

"We are."

* * * * *

Before anyone could speak, Dumbledore had raised his wand again, this time pointing it only at the three images standing in the corner, noted Hermione with a sense of relief, and not at her and Draco.

Hermione and Draco watched in disbelief as the mirror versions of themselves and Dumbledore shrunk and shrunk until they were no bigger then the broken figurine of Krum that Ron owned. Dumbledore picked them up in his hand (all three were furiously fighting him with every minuscule limb they possessed) and stuffed them into a small see through glass box that was sitting on his desk.

He gestured towards the small figures moving around the box. "Meet yourselves at fifteen."

Draco made a face. "Too bad I never got past that age."

Hermione just gaped. "You know," she stated simply.

Dumbledore nodded. "That both you and Mister Malfoy aren't really in your fifth year at Hogwarts? Yes, I know."

"But how can you know? Unless...you also.." Draco trailed off.

"You are correct. I'm not really the headmaster this year at Hogwarts. The other"- Dumbledore nodded towards the glass box again- " Dumbledore is. " You see, these represent all of us as we were in the past. Causes some confusion when you start traveling through time and having to put up with your old selves at various ages. Afraid I gave him-" Dumbledore jabbed his finger at the small bearded man yelling angrily through the glass box. "-quite a nasty shock prancing in here like that."

Dumbledore observed as the tiny sized version of himself inside the box began kicking the glass, succeeded only in banging his shin, and began jumping up and down on his one foot and howling. "Believe I've gained a good deal of wisdom since then."

"Are you building a dollhouse?" asked Draco. "Because I must say, your collection is off to an excellent start."

"Professor," began Hermione as a warning as she also observed the glass box. "That one's getting out his wand..."

Draco snorted. "Use your head, Granger. Their wands are about the size of pixie sticks, and about as useful as them, as well. About all they can do with them is make a miniature fireworks displays or, at worst, set fire to their robes."

Hermione smiled. "Oh look, the one that favors you is waving around his wand like crazy-I just hope he doesn't turn himself into a ferret. I was rather leaning towards him going polka dotted, myself."

Dumbledore sighed. "You two are just the same at twenty five as you were at fifteen."

"Slightly different," Draco reminded him. "I'm supposed to be dead."

"Professor?" asked Hermione. "If you're from our time too, then do you know how to go back?"

"I do. That's what I wanted to talk to you two about in my office. Please sit."

Hermione took the couch and Draco went over and leaned against the armrest of a chair.

"As far as I can figure out, you were sent here to defeat Salazar Slytherin."

"Salazar Slytherin is deceased," said Draco. "His bones have eroded into nothingness. His body no longer functions. He has been taken away from the land of the living. In short, he's dead as a doornail."

Dumbledore gave him a level look. "Even a death eater can't know everything. Salazar Slytherin's body may be dead, but his powers aren't anywhere near so. The fight with Voldemort this year, is, I'm sure, one you haven't forgotten?"

"Ah, my tragic demise."

Hermione glared. "You mean tragic accident."

"You admit it was tragic, how sweet." Hermione would have responded with something ten times sharper if Dumbledore had not been standing there.

"You have to fight him again. And this time, with a hopefully much brighter outcome."

"You mean me staying alive," said Draco.

Hermione shook her head. "Oh, I don't know about that. He did say brighter.."

"It would be to both of your best interests if both of you come out of the battle unharmed. Afterwards, you will be sent back even further into the past to face Salazar Slytherin."

Draco covered a fake yawn. "Salazar's already died once. Why can't he just stay dead?"

"You know, that question could be applied to other people as well," hinted Hermione. Spending time in a small confined space listening to Draco's nasal twang was not what she enjoyed doing.

"Salazar Slytherin? Dead? Oh no. Far from it. His body is, perhaps, but his magical powers and his soul surely aren't. They've been passed down from dark wizard to dark wizard for years. If I knew how...I would have stopped it long before this, but, unfortunately, I don't. By defeating Salazar, you will not only get rid of him, but change the future. With him gone, no dark wizards will be able to become nearly as powerful... including Voldemort. "

"And after we defeat him?" Hermione prompted. "You will be sent home," said Dumbledore.

"How?" asked Malfoy.

"That I cannot tell you."

"What role do you play in this?" persisted Hermione.

* * * * *

Draco shook his head as he walked out of Dumbledore's office with Hermione.

"Well, that was pointless. He took us in, showed off a bit of flashy magic, then told us one thing we could have figured out on our own and two things that he doesn't feel in the mood to tell us but that we will probably figure out on our own anyway."

"We?"

Draco continued to walk alongside Hermione as they made their way down the halls.

"I'm all for yelling insults at each other every waking moment and hating each other for all eternity, but if I can find a way to save myself from dying and prevent being dead in the future, then I'm taking it, even if it means actually learning your first name."

Hermione grinned. "Actually learning? You're even more dense than I thought you were. Or deaf. Your pick."

"Okay, so the insults part can continue, but I need to find a way out of here, and much as I hate to admit it, I might need your help."

"Might." Hermione grinned. "Translated from the language that is the Malfoy pride, that means you'll end up blowing yourself to smithereens if I don't help."

As she and Draco rounded the corner, they found themselves running into none other but Harry and Ron.

Both clearly thought she had lost her wits. Hermione didn't blame them. She knew what it most have looked like. Her and Draco...actually talking without several objects being thrown or curses being said?

"Just went to the infirmary to check on you. Madame Pomfrey was in hysterics as to were you had gone off to. Mione, we were worried. You okay?" asked Harry.

"Oh, don't worry about her. She's just peachy. Crippled, but she can still walk." Draco turned to Hermione. "I see your baby-sitters have arrived. Excuse me."

He called back over his shoulder. "Don't forget to keep your hands away from her face. She bites."

Hermione had to bite the inside of her cheek to avoid running after Malfoy and giving a good sound wack over the head. If he wanted her help, he was going to have to do a lot more convincing job of asking for it. Directing jabs at her wasn't exactly the most direct path to her heart.

Ron glared after Draco's disappearing form. "If only hexes were allowed, he'd be sporting a pig's tail, a frog's legs, and a face uglier than Snape's right now. What were you doing talking to the likes of him, Hermione?"

"Come on, Ron," said Harry. "She did lose her memory temporarily after all. Draco was probably taking advantage of the moment to tell her he was the handsomest guy in school with a heart of gold."

Ron snorted. "More like stone."

"That's true." Hermione gave a little half smile. "What both of you said."

"Ohoh. Better go back to the infirmary. Not only have you lost your memory-you've lost your brain to boot," said Harry.

"Maybe she switched hers with Goyle's," suggested Ron. " You know he actually found a way to the Slytherin table at breakfast today without bumping in anyone's chair or stepping on anyone's foot? It was amazing."

"Flattered as I am by your comparison of me to Goyle, let me just restate things. Draco's handsome. He's also makes Fleur look unselfish, and his brain works exactly like a parrots would if it was stuck on the word mudblood."

Ron couldn't get past the handsome part. "Hermione, he's MALFOY. Handsome not part of the picture, remember? Need I mention he's so elegant he probably eats pizza with a fork and knife?"

Hermione was a bit annoyed. Goodness, she had forgotten just how deep the whole Weasley/ Malfoy hate relationship ran. "Oh, of course. Whereas if the queen of England visited you, you'd probably make her eat out of a frisbee."

Ron's ears turned bright red. "Now you're into him. It's not every day you have two people comment on how poor you are."

Hermione realized the words that had come out of her mouth and regretted them immediately. "Ron...I didn't mean it...not like that..."

Ron huffed."You were sticking up for him. You must fancy him, then."

"No way!"

"You insulted him at the same time you said he was handsome." Ron shook his head mournfully. "Scratch fancying him, you must be in love with him."

"Right. By your description, I suppose you and Viktor are secretly snogging in supply closets and Harry and Professor Trelawney are putting all of those poofs in her class to good use."

"Drop it, you two," said Harry. His eyes seemed to be fixated on something on down the corridor. "You have more important people to be mad at-like Snape, who is just coming around the corner and is going to give use detention for being out of the dormitories after hours."

As Snape rounded the corner, leering unpleasantly at them, Hermione couldn't help but think that perhaps being sixteen again had its bad points-as much as it had its benefits.