Hermione Granger couldn't gave been happier. As she marched alongside her boyfriend and best friends towards the castles of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the last time, nostalgia bumped into her. How, eight years ago she had met the love of her life, Ronald Weasley in the Hogwarts Express, how many times had she risked her life to protect these very walls. She stifled a sob. This was the last time; she was never going to come back again.

A soft hand slipped into hers. Ron stared at her with his bleak eyes, a concerned look dominating his expression.

"Hermione, bloody hell!" He scolded. Harry and Ginny stopped in their tracks and looked at the couple.

"It's alright! Plus, I cannot tell you how delighted I am to finally graduate. I mean, not everyone could get into Auror business without even appearing for the NEWTs. And Hermione, you have not the spider-est idea as to how many people have longed for the post you've got! Not everyone could become the Editor of the Daily Prophet. Merlin's beard, Hermione, stop crying!"

"Ron!" Ginny shouted. "I think you have not got the 'spider-est' idea as to how to console your girlfriend!"

Harry kept an arm on Hermione's shoulder. She smiled weakly through her wet eyes.

"I think we should really get..going. The Professors would be waiting for us."

The gargantuan iron gates of the academy slid ajar as they marched into the castle and traipsed to the Great Hall.

"Hullo fellow Gryffindors!" Cried an excited voice.

Neville and Luna beamed at them. The lot obliged and smiled back.

"Congratulations, Harry and Ron!" Neville shook hands with them.

"Well, and same to you too Neville." Harry grinned at Neville. "I hardly know of anyone enjoying the same glory as their mum and dad."

Luna squeezed Neville's hand. "And congratulations to you too, Hermione. The Daily Prophet really needed a change. And if you ever need to report about the mischiefs of the Nargles, feel free to approach the Quibbler. "

"Thank you, Luna." Hermione couldn't help smiling. "I hope the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler could finally find affinity."

...........................................xxx...............................................

Draco Apparated before the mighty gates of Hogwarts. The Ministry had removed the anti-Apparition enchantments from the institution to place them in the valleys, quite certain that no Death Eater should have the courage to return to the hub of the Order. And there stood Draco, secretly proud of himself.

Draco marched inside the castle and lurked in the shadows of the Great Hall. It was just as it used to be, magnificent and radiating splendour. However, instead of the dignified silver-haired and bearded Professor Dumbledore heading the staff, sat an equally dignified elderly lady with stringy hair wrapped in a bun and a sombre countenance defining her face.

"Welcome dear students and former students." McGonagall stood up in her emerald robes flowing behind her.

"We welcome you to The Honouring Ceremony of the heroes of the War. Had these valiant combatants not rushed to our aid in the Dark Days, we would not have been standing here as we are now."

'True', thought Draco. He really needed to fix these 'valiant combatants' before he embarked on his mission.

"Firstly, I would award those who are no longer midst us. Those brave Wizards and Witches who sacrificed their lives for the obliteration of the Dark Lord."

Draco heeded carefully. Sure he had wanted Hogwarts destroyed, but he never wanted to kill people for the sake of the Dark Lord. He forced the instinct of fleeing from the sight away.

"Cedric Diggory."

Amos Diggory, his father stood up from somewhere, a mark of grief imprinted on his creamy face. McGonagall picked up a tall golden trophy from the tray that once used to belong to the Sorting Hat and handed it over to Amos. Loud Cheers reverberated from the walls of the Great Hall.

"Sirius Black"

Whisperings filled the room. Murderer, Spy, Evil sounded from everywhere. And then with a sharp sigh, stood up a short man with jet-black hair that never stood straight and rounded glasses on his green eyes. The whisperings ceased, and then became louder as he approached the podium. McGonagall glared around her, but she was no one to control her ex-students now.

Then, somebody stood up from the same corner as Harry Potter. And, Draco didn't need a second look to recognise her. The soft brunette curls frolicking about her delicate face, and her intelligent brown eyes ready to answer the next question. Draco felt his hand rubbing his nose.

"It occurs to me," Hermione Granger began. "That the previous Editors of the Daily Prophet have abstained from delivering accurate and seething information to our readers. That's how I wonder they got the time to pen down a critique, or 'biography' of our Former Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."

"But let me lay a rest at this series of concealments. Sirius Black was not spying on Lily and James Potter. It was the doing of Peter Pettigrew, the one who truly revived the Dark Lord. And, I promise to give a detailed description of this in the just next edition of the new and improved Daily Prophet. But till then, we should probably respect the man whose services against Voldemort are worth a million Galleons." Granger disappeared into the crowd.

Draco grinned to himself. Granger was truly a bitchy entrepreneur. How easily had she defended Sirius Black and impelled even Loony Lovegood to buy the next edition of the Daily Prophet.

As Potter received the honour on behalf of Sirius Black, the whispers converted into cheers and applaud. Nobody wanted to let loose an opportunity to get the real information about the death of Lily and James Potter.

"Albus Dumbledore."

Aberforth Dumbledore Apparated from somewhere immediately at the moment, and before he could receive the award and set the Great Hall on the cheering vibe, another Apparition shushed the hall into concerned silence.

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood next to McGonagall, his face as expressionless as always. Draco felt his heart creep into his throat. He tried to run away from there, but his legs were too wobbly.

"Why Kingsley, is everything alright?" McGonagall asked in a concerned tone.

Shacklebolt didn't respond, and they had a silent conversation. Draco studied the changes in the expressions of the Headmistress. There was nothing violent or dramatic about it. Just plain composure.

Just as Draco expected her to announce that a Death Eater was on the loose, and that he was Wanted and lethal and all, she simply unrolled a scroll Shacklebolt had handed over to her and read,

"The time-turner is an extremely important relic that possesses the capability of slipping back in time. Keeping in mind the fact that the artefact can be exploited in several forbidden ways, the Ministry of Magic has decided to confiscate all the time-turners in the Wizarding World and rescind them. The Ministry has also succeeded in deriving the identities of all the present owners of the time-turners. They are: Tilly James, Riley Winston, Katherine Wolfsbane-"

The time-turner. Draco's mind seemed to click. The artefact can be exploited in several ways, such as bringing the Dark Lord back. What better vengeance over the Ministry that resurrecting the Dark Lord? But, didn't McGonagall just say that the Ministry was planning to destroy all the time-turners? Draco got the answer for it too.

"Samira White, Jonathan Hawthorne and Hermione Granger. Shall any one of these owners try to befool the Ministry in any way; they shall face the wrath of the Unforgivable Curses. No exceptions."

Granger? Draco involuntarily slipped. Granger had a time-turner? Draco stealthily retired from the shadows and began walking towards the staircases in deep thought.

How could Granger have a Time-turner?

Suddenly, there was a voice of footsteps shuffling behind him in the Great Hall. Somebody was approaching. Draco trudged further away and hid behind a statue. As the shadow of the figure slid outside the Great Hall and began to inch towards Draco, unaware, a beam of sunlight fell on his face and Draco snarled. Weaselby.

Without any ado, Draco shot out of the shadows and pointed his wand at Ron Weasley. Ron flinched at his sight and his mouth fell open.

"Malfoy?"

"Weasley." Draco grinned maliciously. His father had destroyed Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. They were probably on their way to life-long torture. He, surely, wasn't going to let Ron Weasley away without a scar.

"Impossible." Ron declared. "Dad told me told that Kingsley had affirmed that all the Death Eaters were transported to Azkaban. What are you doing here?"

"Only McGonagall's speech has 'no exceptions,' Slug-spitter."

Ron retrieved his wand, and even before he could complete the curse, Draco yelled.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

The wand escaped Ron Weasley's grip and landed on the floor. His body stiffened and followed the wand to the floor. Draco appeared on top of him. He knew the spell, and then, he would seek vengeance on Arthur Weasley. But Draco's mind wouldn't let that happen. It had other plans for Ronald Weasley. He gripped him by the collar and Apparated to the dungeons

...................................................XXX...........................................

"Alohomora!"

The doors of Snape's previous classroom whanged asunder. With Weasley in his grips, Draco turned down his wardrobe of potions. He'd seen it the last time he'd been here, which was two years ago, but it still had to be here! Where else would it go? And then, a vial of a gluttonous lib crashed onto his head.

And that was the first time Draco was proud of his clumsiness. He picked up the dusty vial and wiped the dust off its label. A muddy concoction encased within an antique flask with the faded golden initials in the handwriting of Severus Snape read 'Polyjuice'. Draco slipped the brew into the pocket of his robes, rearranged the wardrobe with a flick of his wand, grabbed Weasley by the collar and Apparated to the seventh floor. Draco trundled through the left corridor and finally encountered the painting of Barnabas the Barmy, and an annoying memory of the Inquisitorial Squad passed his handsome features.

He had spent half his life loving his inheritance, his 'pure-blood-edness' and most of all, himself. But now, the more he thought about the stupidity of his deeds and his dependence on his father and the cowardice he had shown at almost all the walks of his life, he thought he hated himself even more than Kingsley Shacklebolt. Enough Draco. He told himself. It's all the past now. Focus on your present.

But he couldn't. What if the Room of Requirement didn't open? What if it detected his malicious instincts and shut its doors to him? But, just as Draco touched the to-be doors of The Come-and-go room with the tip of his wand, they slid open. And Draco trudged inside.

He dragged Ronald Weasley to the farthest corner of the room which resembled Snape's dungeons so much he almost felt like a cheeky sixth-year once again and resisted a huge instinct to hex himself. He groped a thick piece of rope lying nearby and tied Ron to a pillar. Then, he withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket and gagged the redhead. Draco stared at Ronald Weasley. He couldn't have ever thought of this before. As he brought his hand close to the red hair, he impulsively recoiled.

Once he did this, he had to put up with Potter, his girlfriend and the insufferable Granger too. Not to mention an entire army of Weasleys. Then again, he was doing all of this to get close to Granger, awfully close, and when even closer, to the time-turner.

..............................................xxx................................................

"Harry, where did Ron go?" Hermione craned her head the fifth time to look for a fidgety redhead, and frowned when she received disappointment. "It is almost our time to go to the stage."

"He told me he was going to the loo." Harry gulped down the Butterbeer. "No wonder. He ate down the entire tray of the pantry woman."

"Harry!" Ginny hissed, as she too craned her head and widened her eyes. "Here he comes. My, why's he walking in swag?"

Hermione stood up to get a sight of him. Ron no longer walked in the funny gait he had as if he didn't own his legs. Instead, he walked with self-conscious style and pomp. Hermione waved to him, and on catching sight of her, he waved back. He didn't risk a smile.

Where'd you been?" Hermione pulled out the seat for him, as he gracefully rested his hand on the table and flipped his hair behind. "We were so very worried!"

"Jeez, Gran-Hermione." Ron shot her a look with his eyes, blank yet resonating with energy.

"I really don't understand as to why you've been doing that since first year."

Author's Note:
Hey there! Thanks a bunch for reading this chapter of  Brandy- A Dramione fanfiction. I really hope you loved it. Also, I would really appreciate it if you could encourage your fellow WatPadders to  read it, and if loved, vote for it.

XoXo
Clevator
/ima-