Chapter 2: Secrets in the Sand

Draco woke up early the next morning, his mind already racing with plans. He dressed quickly and headed to the manor's library, grateful that his mother was still asleep. He didn't want to answer any questions right now.

The library was huge, with shelves stretching from floor to ceiling. Dust motes danced in the early morning sunlight as Draco walked between the stacks. He'd spent a lot of time in here as a kid, but mostly reading about pure-blood history and dark magic. Now he was looking for something different.

It took him a while, but eventually he found what he needed: a few books on magical artifacts, a thick tome on ancient runes, and a battered copy of "Mysteries of Time and Space." He piled them onto a table in a far corner of the library, then went back to his room to fetch the time-turner.

Once he was set up, Draco pulled out a piece of parchment and started sketching the time-turner, trying to copy every detail. The delicate golden hourglass, the fine chain, and most importantly, the tiny inscriptions etched around the rim.

He squinted at the markings. They didn't look like any language he knew. Some of the symbols were vaguely familiar, but others were completely alien. Draco felt a flash of frustration. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Opening "Mysteries of Time and Space," he flipped to the chapter on time-turners. Most of it was stuff he already knew - how they worked, Ministry regulations, the five-hour limit. But near the end, there was a section that caught his eye:

"Rumors persist of time-turners capable of much greater jumps through time. These devices, if they exist, are not Ministry-approved and are considered highly dangerous. The magic required to create such an artifact would be immense, and the consequences of its use could be catastrophic."

Draco's mouth went dry. He looked at the time-turner sitting innocently on the table. Could it really send him back years instead of hours? The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.

He shook his head. No use wondering about that until he knew what he was dealing with. He pulled the book on runes toward him and got to work.

Hours passed. Draco barely noticed, too absorbed in his task. He copied symbols from the book, compared them to his sketch, made notes, crossed things out, started over. His eyes burned and his hand cramped, but he kept going.

By mid-afternoon, he had a rough translation of some of the inscriptions:

"Time's heart beats in grains of sand. The past is fixed, the future — "

The last word was smudged. Draco stared at it, willing it to make sense. Fixed? Fluid? He couldn't tell.

He sat back, rubbing his eyes. The cryptic message wasn't much help. What did it mean, the past is fixed? Wasn't the whole point of a time-turner to change the past?

A chill ran down his spine. Maybe that was the point. Maybe you couldn't change the past, no matter how far back you went. Maybe all you could do was...what? Relive it?

The thought was depressing. Draco picked up the time-turner, watching the blue sand trickle through the hourglass. If he couldn't change anything, what was the point?

But then another thought struck him. The message said the past was fixed, but it didn't say anything about the future. In fact, the future part was the bit he couldn't read. What if...

What if he could go back and just... make different choices? Not change what had already happened, but change what was going to happen?

The idea made his head spin. He'd need to be careful, incredibly careful. He'd have to make sure he didn't mess up the big stuff - Voldemort's defeat, for example. But maybe he could save some people. Maybe he could stop himself from making his worst mistakes.

Draco leaned back in his chair, the possibilities swirling in his mind. It was risky. Probably the riskiest thing he'd ever even thought about doing. If he screwed up, he could make everything worse.

But if he succeeded...

He looked down at his left arm, where the Dark Mark was hidden beneath his sleeve. If he succeeded, maybe he wouldn't have to carry this mark. Maybe his father wouldn't be in Azkaban. Maybe people wouldn't flinch when they heard the name Malfoy.

It was a big maybe.

Draco sighed and turned back to his books. He still had a lot to figure out. He needed to know exactly how this time-turner worked, what its limits were. And he needed a solid plan. Rushing in without thinking things through would be a disaster.

As the sun began to set outside the library windows, Draco was still at work. He'd filled several sheets of parchment with notes, diagrams, and half-formed plans. His eyes were red, and his stomach growled - he'd skipped lunch without noticing.

But for the first time in years, he felt truly alive. This wasn't just hiding away and feeling sorry for himself. This was doing something. Something big.

He carefully placed the time-turner back in its box. There was still a lot of work to do before he'd be ready to use it. He needed more information, more preparation. And he needed to be sure. Really, really sure.

Because once he turned that hourglass, there'd be no going back. At least, not in the way that mattered.

Draco packed up his notes and books, his mind still churning with possibilities. He'd always prided himself on being clever, on thinking ahead. Now he'd have to be cleverer than he'd ever been.

As he left the library, a quote from one of the books stuck in his mind: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

Well, Draco thought with a grim smile, he remembered. Oh, how he remembered.

And this time, he was going to get it right.