"Now the question of er– Ms. Lestrange remains," The minister of magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, arrived to inspect the situation himself and after a brief discussion with Narcissa, the harassed-looking minister turned to the woman who had regained her composure and now sat with her wrists magicked together, against a ghastly tomb depicting a lion, which was rather comical when Scrimgeour stood in front of it, due to his hair and tawny colouring. Though nobody was laughing.

"Do we send you back to face trials in your own time or keep you here at the expense of our own timeline?" The minister sighed, "You say that the Dark Lord is defeated in your world. Correct?"

"Yes, and you're dead." Delphini spat. Having nearly died hadn't toned down her ferocity, which was only accentuated now that she no longer had a cover to blow.

If the minister seemed taken aback by this, he didn't show it. "Who else?"

"Loads... Severus Snape, killed by the Dark Lord himself," she laughed, "funny way dear old dad shows his gratitude, isn't it, eh?"

"... that bloke with the funny eye..." she gestured at Moody and scanned those that remained before her eyes came to a rest on Tonks, "You left behind a baby boy."

"Enough, enough." The minister said finally, horrified at the details that she was revealing, and deciding that it was best not to know.

"This is our chance to recuperate our losses," he said, nodding to everyone in the crowd, "you needn't die. This is our chance to do better."

"But what if we don't?" Harry piped up, "What if we let her stay here and everything falls apart? What if we make things worse?"

"But what if it makes everything better?" Scrimgeour countered, "Don't you want to give Tonk's child a chance to have a mother? Wouldn't you like someone to have given you that opportunity?"

That silenced Harry's argument, but Hermione could tell that he wasn't done pleading his case. All his life he never had an adult he could count on and now Scrimgeour was giving him another reason not to.

"If you feel that it is worth the risk so that one person may have a parent and not turn into this– this abomination, I say go ahead! But when Voldemort has massacred half the wizarding world, I hope you remember that it was you who allowed it. Your decision. And if you do make this choice, I won't be on your side... I won't defeat him for you, you'll have to do it on your own."

"Harry," Hermione gasped, "You don't mean that."

"Yes, yes, I do. We have a secure future but Scrimgeour wants to throw that away because he believes we can do better... but it won't bring back Dumbledore, it won't bring back Sirius..." his voice trailed off and Hermione went to him, patting him on the shoulder while Ron stood by his side.

"Mate, nobody's saying that the ministry's final choice is to keep her here, it's an option, right?" Ron looked around at the Order and the minister shifted uneasily, "And we should consider all options."

"I say kill her now and be done with it," Draco goaded Harry, too comfortable in his own house to filter his thoughts or care that there were other ears in the vicinity.

"Draco!" Narcissa hissed. "We're in company!"

"Only joking, mother." He shuffled sheepishly.

"This is hardly the time or place." She sniffed, voice tight.

Hermione spoke up beside him and Narcissa couldn't believe how Draco acted around her. He looked upon her like she was his personal shooting star, the way he hung onto her every word with wonderment was almost too painful to watch.

"We don't know what changes her being here has done to her future, Harry," Hermione insisted, though there were shards of accusation in her tone of voice. "She might go back to a future different than the one she remembered."

Cackling filled the air and everyone looked around for the source, only to see Delphini holding her sides awkwardly.

"Oh, oh! She knows," she continued, laughing until her sides hurt.

"What do you know?" Harry asked questioningly at Hermione but she only shook her head in confusion.

"You know," Delphine continued, wiping the tears from her eyes, "you and Draco aren't even friends where I'm from."

"We're not?" Hermione feigned ignorance, challenging Delphini to say more.

"You know." She stated factually, suddenly devoid of emotions.

"Honestly, that wouldn't be surprising," Hermione responded with a look of disgust. "But I'm trying to be pragmatic here."

Turning to Scrimgeour, Hermione continued, "All you need is to go to her future to verify it yourself."

"When are you from?" the minister demanded, shaking the Time Turner he had confiscated in her face.

"The year twenty-twenty," she said smugly, still looking at Hermione, "And your daughter is the cutest thing ever. My," she turned to face Draco, "does your son have the biggest crush on her."

Draco was aghast in horror, though secretly pleased that he would have a son. Hermione was simply flummoxed.

"Who?" She couldn't help herself from asking and it only widened Delphini's grin.

"Why, she had the most brilliant red hair, didn't she?" This time, her eyes fell on Ron.

A small thrill ran through Hermione until she remembered how angry she was at Ron for all the opportunities he's wasted.

She didn't miss the way that Draco glanced at her fleetingly, nor did it escape his mother's sharp eyes. Despite her trying not to react to Delphini's words, she felt her cheeks getting hot and she was relieved that Molly wasn't around to witness their exchange, she was on Order business along with Arthur, Kingsley, and Lupin to ensure that the right people were made aware of what happened.

Of the order, only Tonks and Moody remained. Snape and McGonagall had gone back to Hogwarts to make preparations, but whether there were to be a funeral is yet to be seen. There were suggestions that since Voldemort isn't aware that Dumbledore isn't truly dead, it might be beneficial to keep it that way.

"How do we know you're not making all this up?" Draco snapped.

"To what end?" Delphini answered. "I have no desire to return. Keep me here for all I care."

"Sheer spite." Hermione ignored her, choosing only to respond to the question Delphini posed, "You look like someone who would enjoy something like that."

"Is it really that important?" Harry interrupted, exasperated and slightly irritated at the direction the conversation was going. "Dumbledore is dead, Voldemort's daughter is right here in front of us, I'm sure we have more pressing matters at hand."

"Harry, how do you know that her being here hasn't already changed everything?" Hermione said, picking up the conversation from where it first deviated.

"I... don't... But it's our best chance, isn't it? For her to go back to where she came from and undoing everything she's done." Harry admitted.

"Harry, could I talk you out of missing your parents?" Hermione asked, "How do you think she would be able to stop her past self from obsession?" Turning to Delphini now, Hermione got right up into her face and asked, "Are you ready to kill yourself?"

It was appalling to Narcissa how two very different individuals could be so similarly objective to the point of recklessness and suggesting execution as a means to an end.

Hermione appealed to the minister, "I was granted a Time Turner in my Third Year and there are rules... you have to avoid being seen, you can't change anything that's already happened, and you'll have to spend the time naturally and return to the point where you first time travelled in order to close the loop. Delphini has broken all of these rules and by sending her back, I'm afraid we would cause more damage to the timeline than she already has... although... b-before, when we were looking for Harry, Dumbledore and I discussed how this Time Turner might be different..." she glanced at Delphini for confirmation.

"Don't look at me," she said apprehensively, "I'm not a Time Turner expert."

"Minister, I'm sure you must be aware that all the Time Turners were destroyed that night V-V-You-Know-Who returned to power." The Dark Lord's conquest of Dumbledore was too fresh in Hermione's mind to use his name so casually. The only person who didn't fear him lay cold somewhere and she regrets having to repeat their last conversation, "He said that this Time Turner is clearly a new invention, perhaps even an improved version, we don't know whether it's bound by the same rules."

"Indeed, it is a tricky circumstance. I will need to arrange a hearing with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but seeing as Delphini had committed crimes in our present time, she will need to answer to our Wizengamot. In the meantime, we'll need to secure her... Moody?"

"Yes, minister." The battle scarred Auror hobbled forward, leaning forward, his magical eye swivelling madly.

"Keep her under lock and key, I want a guard on her at all times."

Moody grunted his acknowledgement, took a purposeful step towards Delphini, grabbed her upper arm and jerked her into a spin before disapparating.

"Sir, with all due respect, where is Moody taking her?" Harry ventured.

"Don't you worr–" Scrimgeour started but decided that the boy had been through too much and if Delphini was a reliable source, the Wizarding World would owe him a great deal in the future when he triumphs over Voldemort. Having this information forced the minister to be more accommodating.

"We'll be keeping her at the Ministry, we have some holding cells where she will remain until her inevitable incarceration. I think she'll be here for a very long time."

"Could we keep her at headquarters? If Hermione is right and we can't let her go back, she might be of use to me and my quest..." Harry didn't need to complete his sentence because everyone knew what he faces ahead. The Chosen One. Face stoic and voice determined, "I'm not going back to Hogwarts, not with Dumbledore gone."

He wanted to ensure the end of Voldemort.

The minister considered this for a moment before saying gently, "I'll provide you with access to the prisoner, but– ah, Potter, Dumbledore will likely be laid to rest at Hogwarts. You might want to pay your last respects, though it will probably be a quiet affair... Might I suggest that the four of you return to your dormitories? We'll send for you when the time is right."

Hermione and Ron glanced at Harry. He wasn't going to sit around waiting to be summoned like a lapdog. Draco simply looked concerned.

"Won't the Dark Lord try to come for Harry? For all we know, the headmaster was the only thing that was keeping him away." He said in a small voice, thinking about what Voldermort might do to him for his betrayal.

"Dumbledore was indeed a great deterrent, which is why we won't be advertising his demise. Don't you worry, Mr. Malfoy, we will reinforce the wards around the school and increase security. It'll be perfectly– well, it will be safer than home, I s'pose."

Draco nodded and caught Hermione whispering in Harry's ear. Studiously ignoring them and the unfamiliar pang of uneasiness that slid a chill down his chest, he focused on Ron instead.

"What are you three going to do?"

"Mum might want us home at the Burrows–" but before he could complete his sentence, Hermione interrupted him.

"We will be heading back to Hogwarts."

"I dunno," Ron muttered, "Mum might want to–"

At that very moment, Mrs. Weasley popped in next to Mrs. Malfoy, looking harried.

"Oh, goodness, you're still here–" She said, glancing at Narcissa uneasily, "It's getting late, minister, could you arrange a portkey back to the Burrow?"

"No, it's okay, Mrs. Weasley, I think we'll be fine at Hogwarts." Harry said and Molly nodded in acquiesce, too tired to argue.

"Yes, perhaps that's best," Molly said half-heartedly. She wanted nothing more than to bring them home under her wing but they would've had to wait for her to get the bedrooms ready and it was in their best interest to rest as soon as they got the chance.

"We'll see you soon," she nodded and turned to Narcissa, "Is there a fireplace we could use? And minister," she said to Scrimgeour, "could you kindly do the honours?"

Heavy-hearted and with limbs filled with lead, the four Hogwarts students trudged behind the grown-ups who made arrangements for them to return to school. As Draco watched them disappear into a lick of green flame, he stepped towards the ornate box that his mother kept on top of the fireplace.

"Draco," his mother said, yearning for the boy that once was completely hers, and not this half-stranger who looked too old to be almost sixteen. His steel coloured eyes locked with her bluer shades.

She wanted to hug him and hide him away, but they each had a role to play.

"Be safe, mother." And in a whoosh, he landed in Professor McGonagall's office.

"Sorry we couldn't arrange a fireplace nearer to your dorm, Draco," the professor said. Before he could slip out of the office, he thought he heard her say thank you. But for what?

His life had been turned upside down.

He had snipped the last shred of security that the Malfoy name afforded him when he stood up to the Dark Lord. He had known that his father was on thin ice with the dark wizard, but now he has gone and shattered it with his impulse. Though, what else was he to do? Pretend that he wasn't changed by his newfound friends? He dreaded what the morning might bring...

Luckily for Draco, everyone went about their daily activities none the wiser.

Harry wanted to scream at everyone and unleash his despair but contended with throwing himself into Quidditch practice and grilling his team as if they were playing for the Quidditch Cup tomorrow.

Ron, shaken from the things he had learnt and the child he had with Hermione, couldn't focus on Lavender's constant ministrations and pushed her away so he could focus on the gruelling flying manoeuvres that Harry had them doing.

While Hermione looked just as enthusiastic about learning as always, she shared Harry's sentiments and wanted someone–anyone–to realise that something was amiss and that their beloved headmaster deserved to be commemorated.

Draco was the only one out of the four who appreciated the normalcy, as if it would shelter him or his family from harm. Well, his father was as safe as he would ever be while Azkaban continued to be his fortress, but as long as things continued the way they were, perhaps what he did would fly under the radar. Despite his relief, a weight pressed down on him and he found that food lost its taste and sleep eluded him.

They did finally revisit the secret chamber and Ron had an inspired idea to collect the Basilisk fangs that they could use, reminding Harry how he had used it to stab Tom Riddle's diary and effectively killing the Horcrux. However, they weren't able to make much leeway with finding the lost diadem of Ravenclaw, which further intensified Harry's rage.

Finally, when the minister summoned them after three days, they were given some bleak news. Harry would have to figure out a way to defeat Voldemort in this timeline because the council had decided that sending Delphini back would be too great a risk.

"Her being here is the risk," Harry argued. "She might be the reason we fail. We don't know how she's altered anything at all–"

"Which is why I promise you access to the prisoner," Scrimgeour had said, "So you may utilise whatever information she may have."

Unconvinced, Harry had half a mind to ask the minister to shove it, but decided to accept his offer as graciously as he could afford.

"I want to be able to see her whenever I want with whomever I want," Harry demanded.

"I did not expect anything less from you," replied Scrimgeour with a small snarl, "Perhaps you might want to visit her right now?"

"We have class!" Hermione started to protest, but Draco shot her a glance that quietened her exclamation. Surely, visiting Delphini was more important and judging by the murderous look that Harry wore on his face, she couldn't help but bite her lower lip and reprimand herself for giving in to her impulse.

"Very well, we'll have a visit arranged for the weekend," Scrimgeour said in response, "but I assure you that you have the ministry's full support."

"No," Harry said, which took the minister aback as he thought the boy was too proud to accept assistance, but his following words reassured him, "we'll go tonight after our last lesson. Surely you can arrange that?"

"I'll have a word with your head of houses and escort the four of you."

Harry cast a quick glance at Draco and nodded his head fiercely. He deserved this. After all, if he betrayed them, the Dark Lord was unlikely to forgive him.

"Very well, I'll connect the floo network to McGonagall's office. Be there at eight sharp."