One Life for Another

A/N: Thank you so much for everyone's encouragement! I'm really interested in hearing how everyone's theories about the plot have changed with the last couple chapters. To those who like Galahad but also like Dramione -- don't worry, it all works out in the end. I'm just not telling how quite yet. ;)

Enjoy!

---

Hermione and Galahad sat quietly by the lake for a long time after Nimue walked away. The time Hermione had been here was at an end, and neither were really ready for it to be over. Neither spoke of that, though, expecting somehow that they were the only one so bothered by it.

Galahad considered suggesting that he go with her, to help her, but knew that it was another world entirely that was not meant for him. Hermione thought about asking him to come, but knew that she could not ask such a sacrifice from him. If their silence nearly cost them everything, neither realized it.

Finally, Hermione broke the silence. “I... uh... I will miss you, Galahad. I wish we had more time to get to know each other.”

Galahad looked over at her and couldn’t resist leaning over to kiss her. The knight known as Galahad the Pure was no virgin, but neither was he as experienced as many other knights. Still, a simple kiss had never stirred so much emotion within him, and that fact scared him. He backed off abruptly, but the look of hurt that began to show in her eyes brought him back again.

His hands on her hips pulled her closer to him, and as they kissed she felt his growing arousal. Hermione wrapped her hands in his hair and kissed him back enthusiastically. He was like a drug, one that became addicting so quickly you can’t wrap your head around it, but the addiction is still real and there is no denying your need.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, pulling away just enough to break contact. “I didn’t mean... I didn’t want to offend you.”

Hermione’s brows knit for a moment at his words, somewhat surprised by the sudden rejection. His rigid stance and formal manner was enough for her to put two and two together finally, and she realized that it was cultural differences rearing their ugly head once more. “I’m about to go back to my time,” she explained slowly, “and in that time I would not be criticized for spending my last night with you. It’s not something necessarily spoken of in public, but a man and a woman can be with each other without either of their reputations being ruined.”

Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. There were still plenty of instances in her day where a woman would be labeled a whore, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. Deciding to push her luck, Hermione moved closer and straddled his lap, allowing herself to grind into his erection. She couldn’t help it. He had this affect on her, and she’d hate to spend the rest of her life wishing she’d taken advantage of it. She was fairly certain she’d never find anyone like him once she got back, and the thought was too damn depressing.

The hesitation he felt quickly faded when he felt her body pressed against him, and he didn’t really want to object to it. Neither was interested in taking their time, and they made quick work of each other’s clothes, removing only what was necessary for access to the other. Despite going to the Yule Ball with Victor Krum and an on again, off again attempt at a relationship with Ron, Hermione had spent her life focused on things she considered far more important than sex. And now, when spending a few moments as physically close as possible to someone she was about to lose, fervor made up for what she lacked in experience.

She found that Galahad was a wise choice for her first, as upon realizing her lack of experience he was even more careful and gentle with her. Pain was inevitable, but he got it over with as quickly as possible, caressing her body and whispering soothing words as he penetrated her body for the first time. Soon the pain was forgotten, and Hermione was eager for him to go faster and harder, as if both thought a rougher pace might allow themselves to be permanently lost in the other.

Galahad took his time with her, for all that they had skipped straight over the preliminaries, but when all was said and done it did not seem to be anywhere near long enough. She would be gone soon. They were logical people, bound to duties they held to valuable to be sacrificed. They would not seek to change fate further than it had already been altered, and both would do as they had to. That was who they were.

The two fell asleep under the stars, grateful for the warm night but unwilling to leave each other’s side regardless. Galahad’s cloak they drew across them, and when morning came their bodies were still intertwined.

Nimue didn’t wake them, but allowed Galahad and Hermione to find her once they had awoken. She had known what was occurring as the Lady of the Lake knows everything that happens in her domain, and she could fault neither of them for it. Things would happen as they must, and she would do only what was required of her to do. She did not believe in meddling where it was not meant for her to do so.

When they did find her, Nimue led them to a clearing not far from the lake. “I believe,” said Nimue, “that this is the best spot from which you should return. So now it is time for goodbye. I trust you have all of your things with you?”

Hermione wasn’t entirely sure why Nimue had chosen this place, but she was fairly certain the Lady had her reasons and didn’t have any intention of explaining them. “I believe so. Must I go already?”

“It is time, Hermione,” said Nimue, “there is no point in delaying it. You have already lost nine days in your fight, and as you have explained that device to me you will not be able to regain them. Just remember what I have taught you, and you will do well. Remember the teachings, and remember the lake. My home will be preserved for you, and it will stay hidden from anyone else. Stay safe, my child, and all will happen as it should.”

A nod was all that Hermione could manage in response. Galahad’s arms were wrapped tightly around her, though they both knew he’d have to let go soon. She turned to face him and kissed him gently goodbye. When they finally broke away from each other, Galahad brought out a knife and took several strands of her hair in his hand. Hermione forced the tears not to fall as she let him cut off those strands and tuck them safely away.

She wished she could have something of his to bring with her, but was afraid it would only make it that much harder to accept that she had to return alone. She kissed him gently one more time and backed away, taking out the Time Turner from where she’d kept it in her clothes.

“Goodbye,” she said softly and began setting the Turner and counting the turns. It had multiple wheels to turn: one for centuries, another for decades, and a final one for years. She counted carefully, making sure to go forward the exact amount that she had gone back. After the final turn she looked one last time at Galahad and Nimue, then released the Time Turner and watched the years begin to spin by before her.

The force of it was like a strange Portkey from which there was no gentle landing, and upon returning to the correct time she fell abruptly to the ground.

She lay there awhile, trying to regain her bearings and not quite sure she was ready to face the world. She felt like a chunk of her heart had been torn out, but somewhere inside of her there was a new piece that hadn’t been there before. She could feel the Lake, and knew that since Nimue was long dead that she had been accepted by the Lake as its mistress.

When finally Hermione looked up, she found herself on top of a ridge overlooking Malfoy Manor. It seemed she had spent her entire trip back in time on what was now Malfoy lands. The thought amused her somewhat, and then she realized why. As Lady of the Lake, she controlled this land, no matter how important and powerful the Malfoy’s thought themselves.

With this cheering thought in mind she waited until the world had completely stopped spinning and then disapparated.

Nearly fifteen centuries back in time, Galahad was unable to focus on anything for more than a few seconds at a time. Nimue watched with sorrow as he began to pace in one direction and then abruptly into another. He constantly switched to random directions until finally he found the trunk of a large tree on which to vent his frustration.

Later that night, when Nimue was bandaging his bloody knuckles in spite of Galahad’s protests, she again lamented that the dawn only comes after the darkest and coldest part of the night. She wouldn’t let her emotions rule her though, the Lady of the Lake would do as she must for the proper outcome. Even if others would never understand her reasons. Even if she herself didn’t understand the reasons.