Tempus Fugit DRARRY

Chapter 9: Curse of a Memory

Love's the funeral of hearts
And an ode for cruelty
When angels cry blood
On flowers of evil in bloom
The funeral of hearts
And a plea for mercy
When love is a gun
Separating me from you

She was the sun shining upon
The tomb of your hopes
And dreams so frail
He was the moon painting you
With its glow so vulnerable and pale

Funeral of Hearts - HIM

That evening, Hermione's excitement was infectious. She had invited Harry and Draco over to discuss something with them, sounding sufficiently secretive to incite their inquisitiveness and ensure that they came.

She was standing in her living room, pacing backwards and forwards when they flooed over and manifested out of the fireplace, coughing with the soot.

"Hi," Harry said, coughing again.

"You're here!" Hermione exclaimed happily.

"Yeah," Draco said, a little taken aback, "what's up?" Hermione's face was jubilant and she was practically dancing on the spot.

"I think," she said slowly, "I might have found a way to send you home." She paused for their reaction, which was predictable and gratifying. Harry took her in his arms and kissed her, while Draco laughed and punched the air for joy.

"You have?" he asked. "What is it? A potion?"

"A spell," said Hermione, moving over to a side table and picking up and ancient-looking book. "A spell that allows the subject or subjects to transport their minds from body to body. Or in your case, through time."

"Like a spell version of the potion we took in 1996?" Harry asked eagerly, his eyes alight with happiness.

"Pretty much," said Hermione, "and I think it will work, too."

"What makes you so sure?" Draco asked, his silver eyes narrowing.

"Don't you trust me?" Hermione said with a teasing grin.

"Of course I do," Draco said. "I'm just wondering." He had never heard of such a spell before and wanted to be certain that it wouldn't end up splinching them.

"It's basically the same concept that you described to me," Hermione said, double checking over the crumbling pages of the spell book. "You want to transport your conscious mind back into your seventeen year old bodies, correct?" she asked, looking up at Draco.

"Uh-huh," he replied slowly.

"Well that is exactly what this spell should do, with a bit of tweaking," she said, with an air of such confidence that her latter three words went unnoticed for a moment.

"Define tweaking," Harry said nervously.

"Well its original purpose was to allow someone to swap bodies with someone else," Hermione replied, frowning slightly, "but with a little rewording, it should work to swap bodies over a length of time."

Harry suddenly looked uncertain after hearing this particular piece of information. "Are you certain?" he asked.

"Deadly," Hermione did look very sure of herself.

"It's all we have," Draco said to Harry, shrugging.

"Let's do it," Harry said with the air of someone steeling themselves to do something they have a feeling they are going to regret.

"Can you do it today? Now?" Draco asked, an excitement building within him.

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "I just need to do some preparation first."