To Kill You With a Kiss

Chapter 11

"Need some help with packing?"

"No, thanks. I don't really care... Say, Hermione? Do you know what happened to the...er... necklace you wore back in our third year?"

"My necklace? Oh, you mean my... timepiece?" She smiled at him. "I'm afraid it's gone, Harry. I had to turn it in, you see, at the end of the year." She added softly: "And I'm afraid there are no other ones like it anymore."

Harry nodded; he remembered well how the other time turners had smashed during the battle at the Ministry of Magic. Broken. Small shards of broken time, scattered over the floor.

He swallowed. "Hermione? I have to go back. Is there any other way to go... back?"

"Oh, Harry." There was pity in her glance now. "Don't you realize that I have thought about that over and over again ever since Dumbledore died? I thought about it even before that, too, after Sirius disappeared behind the veil. I have turned the idea over and over in my head, done hours and hours of research. Is there a way to go back? Oh, I wish there was a way, Harry, but I'm afraid I don't know of any."

"What about memories?" Harry whispered. "The Pensieve makes it possible to see a glimpse of the past; would it be possible to enchant a memory so that it becomes real? Could a person enter a memory and change the past?"

He held his breath as Hermione sat down on Ron's unmade bed and pondered the question. Finally, she shook her head. "I don't know, Harry. What a strange idea! It would take extraordinary magic to do something like that. Perhaps a very powerful wizard, like Dumbledore or You-Know-Who could have done it; I don't know. If a time-turner were to be immersed in a vial that holds a memory, and a Transfiguration spell is spoken..." She broke off and stared at Harry. "What's wrong, Harry? You usually correct me when I say "You-Know-Who" and tell me to use the name v-Vol..." She struggled. "Voldemort. You always insist that we use his real name."

Harry shrugged. "I don't care any more, Hermione. Perhaps Voldemort is no more his real name than You-Know-Who."

Neville slammed the lid shut on his wriggling trunk and beamed triumphantly. "Hah! Got it! Oh, that's right, Harry, I've got a message for you. It came by owl a little while back, but I couldn't find you. It's from Draco Malfoy. He left school yesterday, along with Crabbe and Goyle."

"From Draco?" Harry reached out for the sealed letter and opened it with trembling hands.

Potter, the letter read,

I gave the Dark Lord your very strange message. He has no idea what you are talking about. Just a bit of friendly advice: Don't contact him again if you value your life.

DM

"Harry?" Hermione put her hand on his arm. "What's wrong? You are as white as snow."

"Nothing." Harry found it hard to speak; his voice didn't seem to be working properly. He tore the letter slowly into tiny pieces.

...

Harry escaped out to the Hogwarts grounds, taking deep breaths of the sweet spring air. Oh, Tom! Why don't you remember me? I need to go back and find the person you once were, but I don't know how... He sank down under a tree and closed his eyes. He could feel tears streaming down his face now, but he couldn't do anything to stop them. Footsteps. He kept his eyes closed, hoping that the person would walk on, but the footsteps stopped right in front of him.

Yes, the Boy Who Lived is sitting under a tree weeping. Please go away now. If you need someone to save the world, you need to look elsewhere.

Someone cleared their throat, awkwardly.