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Hermione: The first person whose life I saved cursed my own. Not that I really blame him. I’ve learned not to hold anything or anyone responsible for the details of my life. It’s all a circle. Things happen because they have already happened. There was no way for me to not go back in time that day. The future prompted my past, because my past had already prompted my future. There were no variables and my life in its entirety was actuality. I was just a performer on the stage.

It happened the day after Sirius got away. I was still on this odd, euphoric high from the expression of utmost exuberance and liberation that had lit the man’s face as he flew off on Buckbeak. It was so beautiful that I had wanted to see it again, and again, and again. And after a few moments of hopeless yearning, I realized that I could see it again; with the Time-Turner.

It was, of course, against the rules to use the device for personal needs without the permission of Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall. At that point in my life I still thought that I hated to go against the rules -I didn’t realize that I had multiple selves from all different “presents” traveling the fabric of time who needed to defy them to survive. I was naïve; I hadn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together yet. I hadn’t yet recognized that those strangely familiar girls and women that had been appearing in my life since my early childhood -who knew a bit too much about me- were, in fact, me.

Not that it would have changed anything if I had figured it out.

I remember how determined and unrelenting I had been in my desire to see Sirius’ expression once more; so much so, that I had broken the rules without remorse for the first time in my life. I was almost to the point of mindless obsession, which I noticed on various occasions when I returned to that moment to watch myself make that rash decision and vanish from a shadowed alcove just around the corner from the school’s library. It was all there in the look on my face: my eyes were wide and eager, my cheeks were flushed, and there was a strange quirk to the set of my mouth that would have easily told onlookers how keyed up I was.

I’ve wondered at times if it was really Sirius I was so anxious to see that day. Or maybe it was the strange flicker I thought I had seen out of the corner of my eye just as Sirius departed, which I now knew hadn't been a trick of my imagination at all. Perhaps it was the unconscious pull towards my inevitable fate that had me so darkly thrilled.

I’ll never know. And that doesn’t bother me. I’ve become used to unanswered questions, strangely enough. I had an acute thirst for knowledge from childhood, yet I eventually came to know my limitations. That didn’t stop an ache from developing in my gut every time I happened upon a new riddle that I knew had no solution. It was just one of the many things that I had to learn to live with. Like the fact that I was going to see that look on Sirius’ face more times than I had bargained for throughout my life -all starting with that one moment. It was the moment that would have ruined everything, if everything hadn't already been ruined.

When I saw his expression again for the second time, I got absorbed in the absolute splendor of a man escaping into freedom for the first time in twelve years. I became so absorbed that I couldn’t break out of my elated daze until my seventeen-hour-younger self caught a glimpse of me out of her peripheral vision and caused me to take a step backwards and twist around unsteadily in an effort to get quickly out of sight.

Time-Turner in hand so that I could attempt to tuck it safely beneath the collar of my robes as I ran, I hit my shoulder hard on the stone wall behind me and tumbled to the ground. Microscopic shards from the hourglass exploded into the skin of my palm and wrist as I landed excruciatingly hard after trying unsuccessfully to brace myself. I only realized that I had somehow been transported back to my present when I looked up from my position with pained tears in my eyes as the stones turned red from my blood, to see Anthony Goldstein rushing towards me.

The rest was history.

Or the future.

Or the present.

...It all depended on the day.

Draco: It ruined my life. Sometimes, when we argued, she would go off on how utterly impossible I was being. I wasn’t the one who was constantly being thrown through time and into situations that could be perilous just as often as they were picturesque. I wasn’t the one who had no control over their life. It was her. She was the time-traveler.

Still, it was complete bullshit to say that I had no reason whatsoever to complain.

Who was left waiting? Who had to sit and worry like they were her fucking mother instead of her husband? The only solace I got came at various times in our lives when she reached an age that I recognized from my past. It was so much easier to know that she was with me -a different me- and not in some gutter in Muggle London twenty years ago.

I always got a small thrill when she came out of our bedroom in the morning wearing an outfit that I remembered her in when she had visited me from our future. It was nice when I had a little forewarning before she up and disappeared, too. I liked knowing in advance that sometime during the day my wife would be leaving, so I could at least make plans to distract myself from her absence. It didn’t help that I never knew how long she would be gone. She could leave for five minutes or she could leave for three weeks. And when she got back she could be radiant, she could be tired, or she could be beaten.

I didn’t want to do it anymore. I didn’t want to be the one left behind. I hated it, because as much as she claimed that I had control over my life, I didn’t. I was just a fucking idiot who went and fell in love with the most absurdly irritating and peculiar woman that has ever walked the earth. I couldn’t control my irrational feelings for her. And I never even had a choice in the matter, really. We had a future together even back when we loathed each other’s existence. Hell, the only reason she suddenly started being civil to me in the first place was because she saw how “magical we could be” -her words, not mine.

We were magical together, though. She was a huge part of me before I even realized that it was my future wife that I was sitting in my room discussing my childhood with at the age of twelve. If it hadn’t been for her, my life would have been over before it had even begun. Because -as much as it pained me at times to admit- my life didn’t really begin until she walked into it. Was that enough to keep us together?

She admitted to me once after a particularly harsh row that she was always waiting for me to leave her, ironically enough. It was only then that I really knew that she understood what I went through due to her disorder. We were good at disagreeing and said things to get under each other’s skin, but I’ve always wondered just how much of it was said in truth and how much was said for the sake of riling each other up.

The honest truth was that we were both sick of it at times. I would certainly be lying if I said that I had never thought about just bloody giving up on her and ending the relationship. In fact, I thought about it more times than I wish I did. She was, after all, my wife. I had been stupid when I decided I wanted her forever, though. I hadn’t planned on constantly waiting for her to come back to me. I hadn’t banked on wasting my life away pining like a fucking twit because she was constantly slipping through my fingers.

Her time-traveling ruined my life.

Yet, she was worth it…wasn‘t she?

AN:  Here's the prologue to my newest story.  It's my own twist on a commonly used device—the Time-Turner—so I hope you enjoyed it!  I stole the format and basic idea for this from Audrey Niffenegger's book The Time Traveler's Wife.  It's only very loosely based on the book, though.  And I was reluctant to use this format, but decided that the only way to tell this story was through both characters :D Be sure to leave a review! 

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