Memory of a Time

Memory of a Time

Part (1/?)

{... all I know / time is a valuable thing / watch it fly by / as the pendulum swings / watch it count down / to the end of the day / the clock ticks life away / it's so unreal / didn't look out below / watch the time go / right out the window / trying to hold on / but didn't even know / wasted it all / just to watch you go / I kept everything inside / and even though I tried / it all fell apart / what it meant to me / will eventually be a memory / of a time when / I tried so hard / and got so far / but in the end / it doesn't even matter ...}

- In The End, Linkin Park (Hybrid Theory)

[~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*]

October 8, 1997

Room of Requirement

7^th Floor

Hogwarts Castle

The mudblood would be the last to die.

He watched her closely, taking in the tangled hair; the tears that mingled freely with the blood gushing out of the cut on her cheek. His stomach churned violently as her vacant eyes met his, tears glossing over the chocolate pools and he swallowed, forcing the rising gorge down.

They would kill her.

Eventually.

First would come the torture, both magical and physical. It would continue until she was bruised and bloody, broken. Then they would rape her, forcing themselves into her until her throat was raw from screaming. Then and only then would they even begin to think about killing her. He fought against the instinctive flinch the thought brought, instead focusing on her once more.

Her robes hung tattered around her body, stained with blood. Whose blood it was he didn't know. Didn't want to know. Didn't want to think about his fellow wizards and witches, didn't want to think about how many of them had died tonight. About how many of them were out there dying right now as he sat hiding, masked from the sight of others through the magic of the room.

"Granger." His voice was hoarse as he crawled towards her, each jarring movement bringing stinging tears to his eyes. He looked down, scowling at the whit bone that jutted through his arm, exposing flesh and blood. Gritting his teeth, he tore his gaze away from the gory mess and once again looked at the seventh year Gryffindor.

"Granger!" His voice was louder this time, urgency making it slightly high pitched. He moved his good hand forward, hesitatingly placing it on her shoulder. When she didn't respond, he shook her, gently at first and then harder until a gasp left her lips, her brown eyes flying up to meet his.

"Za ... Zabini?" He frowned at the evident confusion and fear in her voice. "Wh - what happened?" Blaise Zabini, current Head Boy at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, simply shrugged; his bruised face tensing. "Harry? Where's Harry? And Ron ... oh god, Ron ..." He watched the dawning horror rise in her eyes and closed his own, fists clenching. "No, no ..." Her voice came out in a low moan.

He swallowed thickly, his mouth rapidly drying. "They went after him." He opened his eyes, watched her face pale to a sickly white before continuing grimly. "After what happened to Weasley, we ran. There was another group of them ... too many of them. We got some, but there were still too many ... and then they started getting us." He swallowed again, the impotent rage welling up again. "We all got separated in the confusion ... I brought you here ... and Potter and Longbottom went after Him."

He heard her swallow, caught the hitch in her voice as she spoke. "How long?"

"I don't know." He pulled away from her, his fist driving into the wall behind her. "I have to do something! I can't just stay in here until it's over." His voice broke on the last words, anger overwhelming him.

"There has to be something we can do ..." Frustrated, she ran her hand through the tangles in her hair and sighed. "God, we should have known ... we should have been able to warn them!"

"We didn't know ... and then when we did, it was too late. And who could have we told? Dumbledore's disappeared, McGonagall's still frail from that fiasco with Umbridge ... and Snape ... well, you know what happened there... There just wasn't enough time!" His voice rose to a yell before dying out as Hermione's face cleared.

"That's it! God, that's it..." He watched, confused, as she stood unsteadily, clutching her ribs.

"Huh?" His confusion grew as she laughed shakily.

"Time! You said there wasn't enough time ... but Blaise, what if there was? What if we could warn everyone about what happened?"

"What do you mean, 'if there was time'?" He stood up, leant against the wall and then stopped. Third year came flooding back to him in a rush of jumbled memories; Hermione's ability to seemingly be in two places at once, Sirius Black's mysterious escape, Snape's accusations, and the rumours. His dark eyes widened, stark against the white of his skin. "Oh holy hell ... a time turner?"

The brunette nodded, her face lighting up as she warmed up to the idea.

"Merlin 'Mione ..." He swallowed, tensed. "How far back?"

She shrugged, her expression pensive. "It'll have to be before Dumbledore disappeared."

He nodded, thinking. "So, two months then."

"It feels like a lifetime ago..." She frowned, her face whitening as her breathing became laboured.

"Granger, are you okay?" He walked towards her slowly, mindful of aggravating his own injuries. She nodded, exhaling slowly.

"We'll need a time turner." Even as she spoke the words, a heavy necklace appeared around her neck. He shifted closer to her so he could fit the chain over his head.

"So, how does this work?" She shook her head, her hands reaching up to cup the tiny hourglass in her palm. Slowly, she began to turn it, counting under her breath. Blaise watched it, fascinated, as the room begun to blur around him, bleeding together to form an indistinct swirling mass, before fading into darkness.

When the wind died down, the only evidence to show that they had been there was the hole in the wall from Blaise's fist.

And the time turner, hourglass still spinning.

TBC