Chapter 92: Restart Time
A Time-Turner—hardly Draco Malfoy's favorite mode of travel.
This is an uncomfortable way to travel. First, you feel like you're flying backwards. Then, blurry cloud shapes pass by your eyes. Meanwhile, tiny hammers seem to hammer away in your ears, and you can't hear any of your own voices—yells, voices, gasps—nothing. Finally, you're trying to endure it all, wondering if you can make it until your feet touch the ground.
And then, suddenly, Draco found himself standing in the same spot in the hospital wing.
Everything is as before.
However, the surrounding light became much brighter than before; Ron, who was holding his injured leg in astonishment, disappeared from the bed in front of him.
"Seven thirty, where were we at seven thirty?" As soon as she stopped, Hermione put away the time turner and asked Harry anxiously.
"Hagrid's hut, maybe—" said Harry dazedly, still recovering from the strange turn of events.
"Let's go, hurry up!" Hermione said hurriedly, and took the lead in running. The two doubtful boys looked at each other, without time to talk, and could only follow Hermione running along the empty corridor.
"Hermione," Harry gasped, "don't you have anything to explain?"
So Hermione ran while explaining: "At the beginning of last semester, Professor McGonagall gave me a time-turner. I can go back to the past. That's why I can take several classes at the same time -"
"So, we went back to the past?" Harry suddenly realized.
"Yes!" Hermione said simply, breathing softly and looking out through the corridor wall.
Outside was the huge rock. Draco followed her, tilting his head to look, and happened to see the other Hermione punching the other herself in the face; the others let out a surprised gasp.
"Oh, I must say, that was a pretty powerful punch," Draco said softly. He had never thought that he would be able to witness the scene of himself being beaten as a bystander. "My nose is still sore."
Hermione blushed suddenly.
She raised her chin half shyly and half annoyed, refusing to meet his gaze, and said haughtily, "Thank you for the compliment."
The scene brought back some bad memories.
Hermione suddenly realized that she was still angry about this, although she didn't know who to be angry at.
How had she forgotten all of this and become close to Draco again?
She shouldn't have lived in peace with him as if nothing had happened.
They had clearly experienced such an embarrassing scene. Her heart had clearly been torn to pieces by him. Her face had clearly been trampled under his feet. How could she forget all this in the blink of an eye?
Even more so, another her had just punched him, how could she pretend that this had never happened?
Hermione was sure that she needed a little bit of pride at this moment to maintain her self-esteem.
She needed to take a tough stance. She couldn't immediately go soft on Draco, or she would lose all her dignity.
Hermione kept reminding herself and put on a stern face, glancing blankly at the boy next to her who was trying to smile at her.
But no matter what, Hermione wanted to pick up the ring that she had thrown away in anger.
Even though he didn't like her and she was hurt by it - she still wanted to get him back.
A moment later, the three people hiding under the wall saw Draco running hurriedly along the corridor, holding his bleeding nose, and said to Crabbe and Goyle in an embarrassed and fierce voice, "Don't follow me!"
This time, it was Draco's turn to feel the heat on his face. He gave Hermione an awkward smile, but she didn't smile back as usual. She looked extremely serious, her eyes flickering, and it was unclear what she was thinking.
When the corridor returned to silence, Hermione suddenly stood up, ran to the edge of the rock, squatted down and picked up something. In the setting sun, Draco recognized it as a silver ring.
Merlin's beard! Draco suddenly understood everything - why he couldn't find the ring at that time, and why the locating spell pointed to the Forbidden Forest.
Because when he first came to pick up the ring, it had already been picked up by the second Hermione and brought to the Forbidden Forest in the future of the present timeline. This strange logic made him dizzy, and he seemed to be walking into some kind of time paradox.
"Now, where should we go?" Hermione slid the silver piece between her fingers lovingly, maintaining a calm expression on her face, as if it was no big deal.
She still didn't look at Draco, but lowered her head, staring at the ring in a daze.
"We might as well go back the same way and see if there's any chance of catching Peter Pettigrew." After thinking for a moment, Draco said to the top of her brown hair.
Since the ring will point to the Forbidden Forest in the future, we might as well follow it and go near the Forbidden Forest.
"I agree." Harry finally interrupted them. His eyes flashed with hope and hatred, determined to catch the mouse and avenge his parents and godfather.
So they ran along the sloping lawn to Hagrid's hut and squatted behind a pile of huge pumpkins that were about to mature. Through the open window of Hagrid's hut, Draco saw the three of them sitting in chairs drinking tea, while the other Hermione kept rubbing her eyes and seemed to be sobbing.
"You - cried at that time?" Draco suddenly turned around to look at Hermione.
"She cried for a long time—" Harry couldn't help but say to Draco in a accusing tone, "We comforted her for a long time."
"Sorry." Draco pursed his lips. He stared at Hermione's face for a moment, a look of regret on his face.
"Oh, nothing. Just - being silly." Hermione still didn't look at him, but lay behind the huge pumpkin with great concentration, watching the movements in Hagrid's hut.
She didn't want to appear weak. Even if he treated her like a sister, it wasn't a big deal. A meaningless apology like this was the last thing she needed, Hermione thought with a huff.
Now, the most important thing is to catch Peter Pettigrew, rather than wasting time and indulging in this hopeless unrequited love.
Hermione could sense that the boy beside her was feeling uneasy.
He seemed to be trying to get her attention.
But she didn't want to pay attention to him anymore.
If noticing him would bring her endless pain, why would she pay attention to him?
Why should I pay attention to this innocent-looking, deceptive boy who makes people want to get close to him? Hermione cried in her heart, her face tense, as if she wanted to see the answer to this question through the open window.
Soon, Hermione's ginger cat appeared.
It passed behind Hagrid's hut and came running towards him with light steps. Its fur was shaggy and there were a few willow leaves on its body. It was squinting its eyes with an incomprehensible and unfathomable look at Hagrid's hut.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione was a little nervous. She called it softly, but it ignored her, moving its nose as if it hadn't heard its owner's call.
It stood motionless, like a cat statue guarding a pharaoh's coffin, staring at the hut intently.
At this moment, they saw Hagrid stand up and lift the boiling kettle from the stove, intending to add more tea for the others in the room.
"Peter Pettigrew!" Harry snapped back to reality. "He's in the tea caddy! Let me get him!"
"No." Draco stopped him from rushing out in time, and even pulled his body down, "I think you can't appear in front of yourself. The other you will go crazy, and even take out your wand to kill yourself-"
"He's right," Hermione said quickly, a look of awe on her face. "It's dangerous to interfere with time. We can't just rush in like this."
"Then at least—" Harry stared at the window unwillingly and said through gritted teeth, "I have to remind us."
He picked up a stone that was near the pumpkin and hurled it through Hagrid's window, smashing the tea caddy on the table. The tea leaves splattered all over the table, and the mouse that Peter Pettigrew had transformed into slid out of the tea caddy.
They heard Ron's cry of alarm, and a moment later a small dark figure leaped out of the back door of the cottage—it was Peter Pettigrew in the form of a rat.
Then, Harry, Ron and Hermione from another timeline also filed out, closely following the black shadow and running into the distance.
Then, the front door was hastily opened, and Hagrid hurried towards the castle while sighing "The Galloping Gorgon".
"Let's go," Draco said to Harry and Hermione, and they set off.
In the deep dusk, hidden by the shadows of the trees, they followed Harry and his group ahead, hiding here and there.
Crookshanks, now tired of the statue's tricks, followed them obediently, bouncing about with great gusto.
As the sky darkened, dark clouds like ink covered the sky. They lay behind a bush at the edge of a forbidden forest, watching for any movement near the Whomping Willow - the big black dog had already scurried into the tree hole at lightning speed.
"That's Sirius!" Harry's face finally lost its rage. He said with a little excitement, "I never thought he could be an Animagus..."
Draco's eyes flickered when he heard this. He had long known that Sirius Black might be an Animagus. When his mother, Narcissa, learned from Sirius that Animagus could resist Dementors, this was a foregone conclusion.
The only thing Draco hadn't figured out was his animal form - today he'd solved the last bit of the mystery.
"No! Harry, be careful!" At this moment, the other Hermione under the Whomping Willow was screaming in panic. At this moment, Crookshanks appeared next to that Hermione.
The three of them turned around in surprise and found that there was no one behind them.
No one noticed when the cat following them quietly ran towards its other owner.
"Crookshanks pressed the knot," whispered Hermione, as she lay down behind the bushes, gazing at her cat.
Draco was lying beside her, watching Harry and the other two crawl into the tree hole quietly, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
"Is this the way to the Shrieking Shack?" he asked, turning to Hermione.
"Yes," Hermione said softly, looking somewhat focused, "Peter Pettigrew has been hiding there recently."
"That explains the lights in the Shrieking Shack."
"Hmm." Hermione stared at the tree hole and nodded in agreement involuntarily.
"That's what Sirius Black and Professor Lupin said," she added quietly.
Draco thought of the tunnel that had appeared on the Marauder's Map. The Weasley twins had never recommended that he use that tunnel, saying it was "probably never used" and that they had no idea how to get past the Whomping Willow.
How did Sirius Black and Lupin know such a secret method?
Did they use this Marauder's Map when they were young?
"I'm curious, how did they know how to get into the Shrieking Shack?" he murmured.
"They say who else can come in here except Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs?" Once the business was mentioned, Hermione temporarily forgot the awkwardness between her and Draco.
She habitually met Draco's gaze, her eyes full of thought. "Is this their abbreviation for each other?"
This was the first time Draco had received her eye contact since the restart, which brought a slight joy to his heart, diluting the uneasiness and loss that filled his heart.
His brain was extra active because of this.
He realized that the name Hermione mentioned was the maker of the Marauder's Map.
This is no accident. They have a close relationship with the Marauder's Map, and may even be the creator himself.
Interesting. Draco smiled into her eyes, feeling pleased.
Hermione regained consciousness now and looked away.
She hurriedly turned her head and began to ask Harry, "What happened after you went to see Sirius? You said before that Dementors attacked you?"
"Yes, they almost gave him a kiss!" Harry became a little excited when he mentioned this topic. "Those filthy Dementors! They seemed to have mistaken Sirius for a prisoner in Azkaban, after all, he had been there for so long!"
"If that's the case, how come you're all safe and sound?" Draco interrupted. "Did you conjure up a Patronus?"
"It wasn't me," said Harry, a look of confusion on his face. "It was my dad, I think, and my mom."
"What? That's impossible!" Hermione raised her voice in surprise.
"It's true. Sirius fainted first, then Ron. I tried to become a Patronus, but I was already very weak by then..." Harry recalled the situation with difficulty, "Then, in the dim light, I saw a stag and a doe running towards us from different directions... They ran in front of us and knocked away all the Dementors in the sky..."
He saw that Draco and Hermione had identical confused expressions on their faces, as if he were talking in his sleep.
He didn't like their expressions.
"Do you remember, Professor Lupin—" Harry continued, shuddering at the thought of Lupin's werewolf transformation, "he said my father and mother's Patronus was a stag and a doe."
"Harry, you might be hallucinating." Hermione looked at him with eyes filled with shock and pity. "Your parents are already—already—dead."
"I know," said Harry, "but there's this guy on the other side of the lake who I think is—my dad."
"Do you think you saw his ghost?" Hermione said hesitantly. "But ghosts can't do magic."
"I don't know... no... he looks real," said Harry stubbornly.
"Maybe—you made it happen yourself," said Hermione cautiously. "You were casting a spell, weren't you?"
Draco nodded in agreement with her, looking a little obedient.
"I didn't cast a Patronus back then! I couldn't even hold my wand steady, how could I?" Harry said angrily. "I can prove it to you, seriously! In a little while, you'll be able to see it with your own eyes! And then you'll be able to see my mom and dad!"
"Okay. But, Harry, you have to remember, we can't be seen by anyone, including ourselves. We can't interfere with what has already happened." Hermione said seriously, "Our first priority is to catch Peter Pettigrew first, so that he can no longer escape and harm people, and thus prove our innocence."
"Yes." Harry took a deep breath and stared at the Whomping Willow.
The willow tree was now motionless, and two bright lights shone on it - those were the eyes of Crookshanks lying on the branch.
"As soon as he turns into a mouse and runs into the bushes, away from the crowd, I'll use my wand to petrify him." Harry thought for a moment and made up his mind. "I'll do it quietly without them noticing."
"I agree. It's a good idea." Hermione sighed, raised her wrist to check her watch, and then observed the clouds above her head for a while. "But it's still a long time to wait. I think, about another hour..."
Harry nodded heavily, sat down on a patch of grass, and stared blankly at the Whomping Willow.
The air was silent, without a sound of human voice.
The only sound was the rustling of leaves overhead, stirred by the cool night breeze. The moon moved through the drifting clouds.
Hermione fell back into silence.
She looked up, gazing wistfully at the ever-changing moonlight, then chose a prime spot where she could easily monitor the Whomping Willow—deliberately a little further away from Draco—and sat down as steady as a rock.
She stared at the hole in the Whomping Willow like a small mouse rabbit that was alert and afraid of people approaching.
Draco was the only one not looking at the Whomping Willow.
He had been keeping an eye on Hermione.
Her actions made him feel empty and lost.
Hermione, his little girl, seemed to have put herself into a suit of armor in the corridors of Hogwarts.
She became cold, arrogant and indestructible.
It was as if all the care he once had for him was just the residue of a potion that could be discarded at will. It was as if all the sadness and crying were not something that had just happened today, but a distant past, or even Draco's illusion.
She was like this, making him feel an inexplicable panic.
Yes, he didn't expect her to like him.
He had naively thought that he could accept the option of "keeping a distance from her."
As long as she is fine and not hurt.
No one was allowed to hurt her, including himself.
As long as she is fine, nothing else matters.
Just protect her silently, protect the girl who was once hurt so much - this was what he had planned since his rebirth.
However, the moment he faced the werewolf, the moment he faced death, he regretted it.
They had hugged each other tightly.
He hugged her tightly, and she hugged him back tightly.
So close that their heartbeats intertwined and it was impossible to tell whose heartbeat was it; so close that their cheeks touched together and it was impossible to tell who was crying.
He was unwilling to accept this. Who could accept this?
She was buried in his arms, just like she was supposed to be there.
Who could be willing to let her go like this?
The sweet her, the smiling her, the passionate her, the one who blushed at him.
Draco was extremely unwilling.
On the brink of life and death, the extravagant hopes in his heart were ignited by her.
The flames shot up into the sky, burning the dead wood in his heart and making it crackle.
It was so loud that it made the silence at the moment deafening; it was so loud that he could not accept her cold appearance now.
She couldn't push him away, ignore him, or stay away from him.
She once rubbed his cheek and ears so intimately.
He liked it when she treated him like that. He even wanted more.
He wanted to try and hold her in his hands.
Looking at Hermione's desolate back, Draco knew he had to do something before she could completely push him away.
He walked over hesitantly and spoke hesitantly, "Hermione, about that thing that made you angry, I want to explain to you. Actually, I have a good impression of you... and I like you very much -"
"Yes, like a sister," Hermione interrupted him with a tired sigh.
No, that's not it, Draco cried in his mind.
He stared at her stubborn profile, thousands of words stuck in his throat, not knowing where to start.
"I think this is unfair to you. You are still too young. I don't want my one-sided affection to affect your judgment..." He exhaled softly, with a faint bitterness floating on his lips.
Apart from him, she has many choices and unlimited possibilities.
Maybe it was Harry, maybe it was Ron, maybe it was Krum, maybe it wasn't any of them, but someone better.
Any one of them would be more likely to bring her happiness than him.
What is Draco Malfoy?
He is a quagmire, a quagmire full of dirty memories.
He is not innocent, not bright, he is terrible.
He is selfish, he is unscrupulous, and he is cowardly.
He was a Slytherin through and through, a coward and would never become a brave Gryffindor.
He had never been a good life choice for her, Draco thought bitterly.
"That sounds like a poor excuse to me. Draco Malfoy, you are so arrogant! I have my own thoughts and my own judgment. Besides, I am almost a year older than you. You have no right to think that I am younger than anyone else." Hermione looked straight at the Whomping Willow, with a hint of sarcasm in her tone.
Draco sighed softly.
The thing about age is really hard to explain.
He wears the appearance of a 13-year-old, but he is a 20-year-old at heart.
"Anyway, I don't accept such a ridiculous reason." Hermione glanced at him, and as if burned by the color of his hair, she quickly looked away.
She pinched her palm secretly, maintaining a proud look on her face, "Ginny has liked Harry since she was not even in her first year, and no one thinks she's joking."
Harry, who was eavesdropping in the corner, was caught off guard and blushed.
He moved himself silently, trying to stay away from these two people who were breathing fire or cold air at any time.
He even looked around, trying to find a hole in the ground to crawl into and escape from this suffocating conversation.
"Maybe you're right." Draco finally said after a long silence.
In the thin moonlight, he looked at Hermione's stubborn expression and tried to gain her understanding by using a gentler tone. "I...may be a little self-righteous. I'm sorry if I hurt you."
"Never mind it. I've exacted my revenge right here and now. We're even," she said indifferently.
"So, that kiss—perhaps you could give me a hint?" Draco asked cautiously.
This has always been an unsolved mystery to him.
"There's no need to mention it. I don't want to discuss it anymore." She no longer looked at him, but stared intently at the tree hole, as if she no longer cared about him.
Of course Hermione still cared about Draco.
He saved her regardless of his own safety, and the shock still makes her heart beat fast.
She still likes him.
Desperately, hopelessly, and even more in love with him.
But she would never show that affection again without dignity.
She would never again be obsessed with his dust-free gray eyes and let herself fall into a miserable and shameful situation again.
It's true that she couldn't control her heart for the time being, but at least she could control her behavior, starting with not looking at him. Hermione was secretly admonishing herself.
This feeling of being coldly ignored by the girl was like a handful of ice cubes, hitting Draco's burning inner hopes in pieces, twisting his heart into a miserable ball in an instant.
He looked at her nervously, not knowing what else to say to win back her heart - the heart that he had hurt.
Merlin, how could he have hurt her again? He felt upset.
He couldn't take his eyes off her. Even if she stopped looking at him, he wanted to keep looking at her.
Her back was to him, her brown hair swaying in the breeze. Like a flickering flame, it tormented and burned his eyes. Thick smoke of regret rose into the sky, fuming his internal organs.
Merlin, he was a cluster of pale ashes, about to be blown away by the chill night wind.
But his eyes were extremely stubborn, fixed on her, and he was willing to be tortured like this.