12:00, When the World Changes

12:00, When the World Changes

Prologue- Priori Icantatem

The golden beam of light connected their wands once more, the Dark Lord and the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry began to sweat with concentration, with the effort of holding that golden beam in place. He felt his feet lift from the ground. The golden light was beginning to surround the two of them like a spider's web and Harry knew that one of them would have to give eventually. Harry's wand was vibrating strongly in his sweaty grip, shuddering as if it would snap in two at any moment.

A red film was beginning to cover Harry's vision as the phoenix song sounded through the light. Keeping the two wands connected took more energy this time, more concentration. Harry blocked his ears to everything but the song of the phoenix, letting it flow through his body and give him courage.

Don't break the connection.

He knew that he mustn't break that shimmering thread between himself and the Dark Lord. Again it began to look as though great beads of light were moving on the golden beam of light, sometimes further towards him, sometimes further towards Voldemort.

Don't break the connection.

I won't, he thought, I can't. Harry knew that it was not just his life at stake in this battle, but the lives of everyone he cared anything about. Faces began to flash before his eyes, a vision of Ron, red hair and freckles, which quickly changed to the rest of the Weasley family, faces of the world that he had sworn to protect. Then at last Hermione's face was behind his eyes, brown eyes thick with tears. He wanted to brush the tears from her eyes and make it so she never cried again.

Don't break the connection.

Harry knew that he could not continue this way forever, the process was wearing him down. He could feel Voldemort's will piercing the air, every bit as strong as his own. The beads of light were sliding up and down the golden light at lightning speed, darting from one end to the other. Harry's wand began to shudder worse than ever before, somewhat reminiscent of a rodeo horse. Suddenly before his eyes the beads of light split into two groups, one travelling towards Harry's wand, the other towards Voldemort's.

DON'T BREAK THE CONNECTION.

Harry felt a sharp pain in his arm as the beads of light vanished into his wand. He watched the other beads disappear into Voldemort's wand, watched as a ghost-like form of Remus Lupin from the tip of the wand, barely registering the other shadowy form emerging from his own wand-that of Peter Pettigrew. More beads of light began to slide towards the two wands and Harry could see Voldemort fighting to break their connection. Harry's arm began to ache and he choked back red tears as his wand began to vibrate madly.

DON'TBREAKTHECONNECTION.

Harry felt cold as one last bead of light caused his wand to shatter into pieces. His sight began to fade, but he faintly saw Voldemort's wand do the same. The connection was still hanging in the air and Harry saw sparks flying from the pieces of the brother-wands. Harry felt himself falling towards the ground, watching the wand sparks snap and crackle at each other, striking jagged lines across the sky.

DON'TBREAKTHECONNECTIONDON'TBREAKTHECONNE-

And Harry's mind lapsed into blackness.

Chapter One- A Blast From The Past

Two bodies lay spread-eagled, around a metre away from each other. One was of a man who looked more like a snake. The other was a teenage boy, with unruly black hair, emerald eyes and a slowly fading scar.

"B-but are they...?" Ron's voice trailed off.

Dumbledore sighed, "I'm afraid so Ron. The effort killed them both."

"What is going to happen now Professor?" Hermione questioned nervously, peering up at the sky.

The sky was not normal; the blue had changed into a sickly green and forks of lightning streaked across the sky.

"Their magics have left a mark on this world. The good and evil magic still fight each other, just like Harry and Voldemort just did," Dumbledore said in a hushed voice. "And when the two magics end their fight they will destroy each other and take our world with them."

"How much longer do we have?" Ron asked hysterically.

"Three days, to the hour," Dumbledore whispered.

"Then the world will end at midnight," Hermione sobbed quietly.

~ 11:57 ~

Hermione had been trying to read her book for hours now, unable to get past the first paragraph. She never thought she could fail to be distracted from her surroundings by "Hogwarts- A History." Her attention was instead attracted to the clock, which read eleven fifty-seven P.M in bright neon numbers. Hermione put the book down on the bedside table. She knew that back in the wizarding world everyone was in state of panic- or a state of denial. Some had failed to heed Dumbledore's warning, as she knew they would. Hermione sighed; knowing there was no point in continuing to read now. Now that she only had three minutes left of her life. Three minutes after all she had been through. After all he had been through.

"He is dead now. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived is dead," Hermione said to herself.

She still remembered that day that wind-swept day at Hogwarts when Harry had promised her that he wouldn't leave her on her own for the end.

"But then," she thought. "I suppose he wasn't expecting his end to come so soon. None of us is quite sure what happened with Harry in that last fight with Voldemort. And it's killing me inside that I can't help but blame Harry for the fact that I will be dying tonight."

"Dying," Hermione repeated the word aloud.

Saying the word made everything seem so much more real. She mentally slapped herself for turning into one of those people that needs a scapegoat, someone else to blame their own misfortunes on. She continued to mull things over in her head.

"I hate Harry," she whispered. "I love Harry. I hate that he is not here for me to tell him either way. I hate the fact that his whole life was pointless."

Hermione began to wonder what had been the point in bothering with her own life. All her hard work, hours upon hours of studying, days spent in the library, working and working until she answered every question right. Six years of looking forward to finishing her schooling and becoming a fully qualified witch the first in her family. She remembered how her parents had been so proud when she received her owl about attending Hogwarts, and then even more so when she continued to top her year in grades no matter how hard Malfoy tried. She could hear her parents outside her bedroom door. She could tell they were worried about her. But still she did not go out to them.

"Why did I even bother working for my goals?" Hermione thought bitterly. "None of my dreams are ever going to happen now, not unless I can live my life in the next three minutes."

Suddenly she lost all her self-control and jumped from her bed screaming. She began to throw her books around the room, ripping out their pages.

I was not supposed to die at seventeen," she thought shakily. " I was supposed to grow up, have the magnificent career that I earned. I was supposed to get married, have lots of little children and then watch them have children. I was supposed to have some kind of future."

Hermione dropped lightly back onto the bed, not wanting to admit she was scared. Not wanting to believe that everything she had ever held dear would become nothing in a matter of minutes. She was not content to wait and let her doom come to her.

~ 11:58 ~

"Perhaps it is better this way," Draco thought slowly. " I was never going to live to grow old anyway."

He knew that, ruthless as it seemed no child of a Death Eater ever does. It is only a matter of wether they are killed by their own family on grounds of betrayal or by their family's enemies as tokens of the justice to come. Draco was grateful for the fact that he hadn't had time to be used as his father's pawn, as planned. He had seen what other Death Eaters had done to their children, and knew it would have only been a matter of time before it happened to him too.

"It makes this kind of death bearable," he thought on. "Knowing that even though everything I have ever hoped for will be void in two minutes, so will everything that my father has wished for. I was lucky to make it to seventeen at all, what with the psychotic maniacs I have for parents."

Draco had never understood his parent's love of reckless activities that could very well result in their deaths. He had no interest in taking part in these pastimes and could not see why they did, unless they had death wish. Lucius Malfoy was not coping well with his imminent death. He had not wanted to admit it but he knew that if Albus Dumbledore said that the world was ending, chances are he was right. Draco could hear his father striding through the house smashing ornaments and furniture as he went.

"Why is he even bothering? Not like he can break it all in two minutes anyway," Draco said under his breath.

He could hear wall mirrors crashing to the ground, family heirlooms shattering on the marble floor. Lucius had lost all his self-control, now screaming and swearing as he broke things. Draco calmly watched his mother. Narcissa pretended to be just as calm, but he could see the teacup shaking in her hands. She threw it violently at the wall, leaving the tea to dribble slowly down to the floor. She was not coping as well as Draco had imagined.

"How can you be so calm Draco," she asked. "How can you just accept the fact? How can you live with the fact that you will never grow up? That you will never have your own life?"

"Because I never had much chance at a life of my own anyway."

Narcissa looked almost shocked at Draco's reply but did not deny it. Of course Draco knew it was the truth. He had heard them planning his life and secretly suspected that they had even decided what colour socks he would wear on his wedding day.

"Maybe they should have focused on their own lives." Draco thought irritably. "Maybe if the stupid Death Eaters had have concentrated on their own goals, rather than shaping the lives of their children perhaps they could have offed Potter before it had even got this far."

Still he remained calm. As his mother trembled, trying not to burst into noisy tears and his father aimed to destroy the household, Draco stayed calm. He leant back on his chair, rested his feet on the kitchen and smiled.

~ 11:59 ~

"One minute to go," Ron's breath stuck in his throat. "One minute until everything is gone."

The whole Weasley family was crowded into their living room. Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny. Percy had come home the day before, wanting to make it up with his family before the end. Now he sat quietly with his head on Molly's shoulder, just like he did when he was little. Even Fred and George were quiet and none of their jokes broke the impenetrable silence that had invaded the usually noisy house. Instead the twins sat cross-legged on the floor, foreheads touching and tightly gripping each other's hands. Ginny burrowed into Ron's side, like he could protect her from what is coming.

"Oh god I wish I could protect her," Ron thought anxiously. "I wish I could."

Bill and Charlie each had a hand on one of Arthur's shoulders, supporting him. They both sped back from their jobs when the alarm was raised. Everyone looked deathly pale, making the trademark Weasley hair and freckles all the more prominent. Ron wished that someone would speak, say something, anything at all. Something, which would break the unusual and devastating silence, that gripped them all.

Ron glanced over at the clock. Thirty seconds to go. The one things that niggled at his mind is how after all that Harry had been through to finally kill Voldemort that it was all in vain. The one thing he was destined to do to help the world sealed its doom. Ron didn't blame Harry and he knew that no one else in the room did either. Guaranteed there would be some people out there who did, but Ron thought they must have been insane.

"How was Harry supposed to know this would happen?" Ron wondered angrily. "He only did what everyone else told him to do, what the world expected of him. How did the whole world turn out to be so bloody wrong?"

Then Ron began to think about Hermione. He had not heard from her since the day Harry died. Ginny had begun to sob silently into Ron's shirt while he had been thinking and a muffled whimper escaped her lips.

"She been through too much already for a little girl already, even without this," Ron thought.

And it hurt Ron all the more to know that this time he could not tell her that everything was going to be fine. Because this time he knew that they could not just go to sleep and hope that tomorrow everything would have righted itself.

The clock ticked on and on. Ten seconds to go, Ron noted. Molly began to cry loudly, Arthur rushing to her side. Fred and George started to whisper goodbye to each other. Bill and Charlie sunk to the floor on their knees. Percy became ghostly pale and shut his eyes. Ron could hear him whispering a prayer. Praying that he would not go to hell for forsaking his family. Tears were everywhere. Ron didn't know what to say to any of them. He could see the tears running down his sibling's faces, some silently, some noisily. The seconds ticked down and the tears began to appear red. Ron could feel them on his own cheeks too. He knew his doom was here wether he chose to accept it or not. Then he saw the darkness and knew that it was all over.

~ 12:00 ~

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. Her eyelids felt as if they had been shut for a thousand years. As far as she could see there was only blackness, then two figures began to fade in from the dark. Arms then legs, bodies, heads. As more details filtered in she identified them as an eleven-year old Ron, and a Draco of the same age. She glanced down at herself; she was eleven again too. Hermione's heart beat faster in her chest.

"I must be dreaming," she thought. "I'm dead, not alive."

The whole place seemed to be somehow threatening. Hermione could see the terror on both of the boy's faces heard Ron's colourful remark as he found himself to be eleven again. Draco started to yell at Ron, something about how this was his entire fault. She clung to the hope for a moment, that if they had been saved, maybe Harry had been too. But no other forms faded into the dark realm and her heart sank. Suddenly a disembodied voice sounded through the darkness, Hermione saw Ron and Draco look around to trying to identify it. Her body was screaming that something was wrong, that she should run away. She looked around herself, amazed at how weightless she felt. She could not have run anyway.

"You are in the space between time. I have chosen you for a reason. You three can stop the world from ending. It is up to you to ensure that Harry Potter is never born."

"What the hell are you playing at? Who are you?" Ron yelled into the dark. He would have never admitted it, but he was scared.

"I am the Intervener. It is my duty to fix destroyed timelines. You must prevent Harry Potter from being born."

"Why?" Hermione said softly.

"What gives you the right to pull us out here and order us around?" Draco asked, voice shaking with anger. He had been looking forward to his death.

"I have whatever rights I choose to have Master Malfoy. Miss Granger, there are some things that you do not have to know. The sooner you realise this the better off you will be. This is just something which must be done. You can save everyone, an entire world, if you do this one thing."

"Why should we trust you?" Ron asked, somewhat bravely.

"Why should you not trust me?"

Draco spoke again. "I do not appreciate being pulled out of my perfectly comfortable death."

"This is not about you Master Malfoy, nor is it about any one person in your universe. An entire world is at stake here. It is up to you to choose the right path."

Hermione was confused. "But why us? We're not that important. Why choose us to do something big like this and not someone older?"

"Miss Granger, you are as important as you make yourself. You will not fail the road that you are meant to follow."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something else but the blackness began to fade only to be replaced with a familiar scene. The three of them found themselves standing on a train platform with trunks sitting at their sides. A clock on a nearby wall read five to eleven. A scarlet steam engine sat waiting at the platform and people were swarming around.

"What the hell is happening?" Ron questioned anxiously.

An elderly looking witch, with a kindly looking face approached them.

"Parent not come to see you off my dears?" she asked sadly. "Such a shame. You'll have to be on the train now, it's almost ready to leave."

"I don't want to get on the train," Draco snapped obnoxiously.

The elderly witch smiled. "You won't be saying that in a few months time, when you've seen how much fun Hogwarts can be. Come along now."

Awkwardly they picked up the trunks, which had been next to them. They smiled-well at least Ron and Hermione did- at the witch and stepped onto the Hogwarts Express.

"Well I guess you'll be fine now," the witch said in a jolly tone. "If you need any help I'll be up the front with the driver."

The three of them peered out the windows at the familiar scene. Nervous mothers hugged their departing children and gave tearful waves. Fathers stood bragging to each other about their children. Hermione, Ron and Draco hurried into an empty compartment. They looked around at each other for a moment; faces set in looks of distress.

Draco spoke slowly with a hint of panic in his voice. "Would someone like to tell me just what the f-." He froze.

The door of the train compartment slid open. Hermione and Ron both glanced at each other as two familiar boys entered the compartment. One of them they had only seen after he had been through years of hardship in the wizarding prison. However in his younger form he was quite attractive. The other had unruly black hair, which he messed up with one of his hands. Hermione could not believe the resemblance between him and his son.

"Hey, you don't mind if we sit in here with you? Everywhere is starting to fill up," said the one with the unruly hair. "I'm James Potter and this is my good friend Sirius Black."

"I'm-," Hermione saw a vision in front of her eyes, of the place of darkness where the

Intervener lurked. His voice spoke to her, whispering names for her to use. "I'm Hilary Addams, this is Ross Weatherstone and that is Draconis Szeer."

Ron gave a sort of half-wave, whilst Draco just graced them with his usual sneer. Neither of them looked particularly happy with the aliases that the Intervener had supplied Hermione with. Just then the compartment door slid open once again. Two more boys entered along with a girl. Hermione and Ron immediately recognised the boys. One of them was unmistakably a younger version of one of their previous Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, though lacking all the grey hairs and fine lines he had when they had known him. The other was short and slightly chubby with mousy hair and a pointed nose. They did not recognise the girl but they knew instantly who she was. She was slender, with dark red hair and those emerald eyes that they knew from another person.

"Room for us in here?" the girl asked.

Ron went to answer, but Draco beat him to it. "There plenty of room here."

Hermione almost had to stifle a laugh as she saw Draco gazing at the other girl, obviously smitten. Ron elbowed Hermione.

"I wonder if he knows that she is Harry's mother," he whispered to his friend.

"Ron," Hermione whispered back. "We're not supposed to be here."

Ron jerked away from her. Everyone moved a little closer to make room for the three new admissions to the compartment.

"I didn't catch your name," Draco murmured in the girl's direction.

"I didn't give it," she replied coldly. "I'm Lily Evans. This is Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew."