Author's Note: Thanks to every one of you for coming on this adventure with me. It's been more than I could have imagined. I hope you enjoy!

Please drop a follow if you'd like to read more - I have lots of fun things coming :) And let me know your final thoughts! Thank youuu xoxoxo

SO much love to Kyonomiko, Queen Alpha.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.


"You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know." She met the furrow in Draco's brow, the concern in his eyes. "But I need to."

After six months of focused efforts, six months of honing her visions until she could access the trigger on a reliable and consistent basis, Hermione was ready. Through countless sessions working with Healer Randall, and more intimate sessions sharing thoughts with Draco, she was set. The spells were prepared and a team was ready for her word.

Robards folded his arms as he stared at the two of them; a Portkey lay on the table before them. "Burke and Hikari have already taken the Unspeakables to begin the preparations. But this is your decision, Unspeakable Granger."

Her chest pulsed with the cold and stung with the recollections of what she had been through, the last time she and Draco had been in Harappa. His grey eyes were hesitant as they met hers, and she knew he was remembering the same.

"I'm with you," he intoned, a hand grazing her arm. "Whatever you decide."

Hermione nodded, and with a tight exhale, she began casting the protection spells. "It needs to be done."

A twitch on Draco's lips and he followed suit, preparing himself for the onslaught of corrupt magic they were about to face. "On the bright side – we know now what kills it."

She couldn't manage the muster a laugh. Not after everything. But Draco snickered and winked, and it flooded her with warmth at his amusement. She didn't think she would have made it through the aftermath of everything – the nightmares and the phantom pains – without having him by her side. He made her smile and laugh; he held her while she shook with the old terrors and wiped her tears at the new ones.

Her eyes flickered to land on the priceless heirloom affixed to her ring finger, and she felt a smile tug to her lips at the thought of it as she always did.

They would be having a simple ceremony on the grounds of the Manor – and Hermione knew Narcissa's interpretation of the word simple would be far different than her own. But it had given the woman purpose again and she knew how important that was to Draco.

Steeling herself, she met his gaze. "Let's go, then."


There was a fascinating disconnect in his spirit as Draco stared around the innocuous ruins of Harappa. It had been half a year since they had last been here, though the memories of what had happened down in that cavern were so hazy and disoriented with the sickness that he struggled to remember them.

He kept an eye on Hermione as she dawdled in the streets, discussing preparations with Burke and Hikari. He had no intention of letting her out of his sight this time. The corrupt magic that had driven the Indus Valley civilians out still lingered and he could still feel it in the air.

It was right that they were here. Even if it came thousands of years too late.

And his beautiful, courageous fiancée recognized the same.

The magic was unstable and angered, roiling in the air and deep beneath the surface of the ruins. And it was time, after so long, to lay the last of their questions to rest. He released a long breath at the thought.

With a twist of her loose curls blowing in the wind, Hermione turned back to face him; he could see the sparkle in her eyes from where he stood. Draco paced forward, catching her hand and tightening his grip on her.

"Are you ready?" she whispered, her eyes wide with anticipation, fear, and so many other things.

A grin pulled at his lips. "Yes."

And all at once the present and past became fused into one; the Unspeakables became overlaid with the people of the Indus Valley. Draco watched, marveling as he always did at the way her visions flowed into him.

The bright sun beamed down, even thousands of years ago, and the people of the Indus Valley danced and celebrated; they ploughed the earth and laboured over their efforts; they existed in their day to day actions of thousands of years prior.

Draco met Hermione's gaze, feeling a rush of bright energy course through him.

Time shifted and progressed, days and nights passing and turning into weeks, months, years, and the people of the Indus Valley carried on. And on… until they didn't.

They watched as it became evident that things were shifting; the magic twisted and coiled in the air. Gone was the jubilation of a cheerful people, to be replaced with fear and indecision. There was a palpable sadness, a mourning in the air, and Draco knew it had begun.

Groups of messengers marched forth from the city's edge, carrying word to the rest of the civilization. Others merely packed and fled of their own volition.

Draco nudged Hermione, surprised, as the eight council members paced towards where they knew the chambers to be, their bull keys clenched in white-knuckled fingers; some time later just six returned.

Hermione edged forward, her eyes wide and shining as she tried to follow so many lines of time at once, until she shook her head and retook her spot at his side.

"The two figures didn't make it down," Draco inferred. She nodded, a pained expression on her face.

And still time raced on, until the once vibrant civilization was a mere glimmer of what it had been; the last of the people were leaving.

And then… nothing.

The steady and relentless decay of time marched on, erosion taking hold and crumbling the foundations of a civilization that had thrived and been impassioned with knowledge, now lost to the ancient fabrics of time and the uncertainty of the history books over which they had toiled.

Decades, centuries raced past, until the excavation crew at last came in, wonder and awe in their faces. Draco wanted to look away, knowing what was to come. And then the small crew of magical excavators, triumphant with the discovery of one of the bull figures.

He ran a hand through his hair; tears glistened at the corners of Hermione's eyes as the team searched and investigated, until at last they marched into the Northwest of the ruins and never returned.

Draco drew her closer, his face dropping into her curls as still they watched on.

Then decades more, wherein groups of tourists visited the ruins, pacing Harappa's worn and dissolved pathways, oblivious to the magic that brewed beneath the surface, dormant and lying in wait.

He caught the eye of Hikari, startling in its immediacy and Draco held up a hand to wait.

Then with a sharp intake of breath, he turned back to the direction in which the practitioners had walked – the direction from which the excavators had come – and he saw her. Madame Moreau, smiling to herself as she brandished a figure that was jarring in its familiarity.

He wanted to reach out, wanted to stop her, but there was no stopping the relentless chase of time.

The figure, after having been lost for thousands of years, had been found – and so went the rest of the story as Draco knew it.

Then Moreau faded away, as a wisp of dust into the air, and the breath that chased from Draco's lungs.

All was silent but for the stirring of dust in the air.

Hermione released his hand, her eyes pressed shut and her breathing measured. Then she turned to him, forcing a smile. "So now we know."

He echoed, "Now we know."

"And now," she went on, turning to Hikari and Burke, "we can lay the magic of Harappa to rest, once and for all."

Draco pulled Hermione to his side as the other Unspeakables, fully clad in protective gear and enchanted robes, paced the distance to where the ground had given way and they had fallen into the tunnels. They lifted the enchantments on the pits into which Draco and Thomas had nearly fallen. Merlin, it felt like years had passed.

He swallowed, realizing he held Hermione's hand in a death grip. He could feel her eyes on him.

The Unspeakables' magic raced through the ruins of Harappa, until as one, they released a barrage of destructive magic of their own.

Draco's eyes fell shut at the feel of it, being sure to keep a safe distance away, but still he felt the blast of it, percussive and a swelling beneath the earth.

The magic pulsed and swirled, combatting the corruption in the Harappan air, filling and pulling at the pits and racing down through the length of the tunnels. The earth below his feet trembled, and for a harrowing moment, Draco thought the calculations had been wrong – that the tunnels were going to give way beneath them –

Hermione tucked herself into his side, her eyes wide and sorrowful as she watched the two forms of magic fight and clash, a shimmering in the air ahead of them. The vast emptiness of the pits filled in, reforming themselves as a part of the ground once more.

The tunnels continued to quake in the northwest as the magic poured from the Unspeakables' wands in unison. Draco had never seen anything quite like it.

Burke led the force, commanding the others to hold firm, and he felt something build in his chest at the sight of it, and at the reminder of how everything had gone so wrong in Harappa. He looked down at Hermione.

And how everything had ended up so right.

After some length of time Draco couldn't even guess, everything fell silent. The Unspeakables stepped back, stowing their wands, their chests heaving with the exertion of their magic.

Hermione stepped forward to the edge of the opening but it was no more. She toed at the earth and only dust rose up.

There was a silence, sinking into Draco's soul. The magic of Harappa no longer danced and swirled, tugging at his own. There was only nothing. The pits, the tunnels, the corruption was gone.

He swallowed, mouth thick and dry, and met the hard stare of Unspeakable Burke. He slid his hands into his pockets with a nod.

Hermione's fingers interlaced with his own and her eyes were wide with the rise and fall of her chest; the chocolate in her eyes was soft when they met his own and he could see the emotion welling in her as it was in him.

It was thousands of years too late, but the magic that had driven the people from Harappa was gone. The magic that had driven fear into the hearts of thousands and pushed a brilliant society from their homes was no more.

And something, after everything they had been through, felt at peace deep within Draco's spirit.

The Unspeakables prepared themselves to leave; with a wave Draco pulled their own Portkey from his pocket, and the rest made the return to London.

Hermione's breathing remained steady as she turned to him. Her fingers skated the skin of his arm and she shook her head. "At last."

Draco returned, "At last."

They had seen the truth of it all, and they knew there was no way it could ever be shared. The mystery of the decline of the Indus Valley would live on in history. Something pulled at Draco's chest at the thought of it – at the way everything had fallen apart to such horrific consequences.

He reached an arm behind Hermione's shoulders, tugging her closer. "You did it." He glanced down at her. "I'm proud of you."

Her face dropped to land on his chest, her hands interlocking around his waist. She released a long breath. "We did it. And everyone else and – it's hard to believe this is all laid to rest."

"But yet…" Draco let the sentiment hang between them, his fingers twisting in her curls. "I wouldn't trade what came of it. Not for the world."

Her eyes caught his, glistening with a faraway sparkle and her lips brushed his in a soft, lingering kiss. "I love what came of it." Her grip on him tightened; a tear escaped Hermione's eye and she swiped at it with a soft smile. "Let's go home."