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Chapter Text

She had to hide.  Death Eaters were hot on their tails and she knew that the magic she had used to seal the door behind them would only hold for so long.  Diving underneath a nearby table, she listened to the incessant ticking from the countless clocks in the room before the door slammed open and the enemy entered.

Oh, God, she thought.  How in the world did I end up here?  She knew of course, and truth be told, she wouldn’t have had it any other way.  When her best friend, Harry Potter, had first mentioned that he’d seen his Godfather being tortured at the hands of Lord Voldemort, she had known that it was almost certainly a trap.  After all, it had been near five in the afternoon!  How were those two particular wizards able to get into the Ministry of Magic when they were the most wanted men in all of Britain?  She had even said as much to Harry, but the boy was nothing if not insistent.  Had she been in his shoes, she may have reacted as he had.  As it was, she was able to be reasonable and attempt to make sense of the situation.

Fat lot of good it did her.

Harry had basically ignored her, telling her that this vision was just like the one where Mr. Weasley had been attacked, and that one had turned out to be true.  No matter how hard she tried to convince him, he would not be deterred.  So like any good friend would, she went with him.  Now they were scattered, she and the five other students who had left Hogwarts for the Ministry of Magic, and being hunted by Death Eaters.

It had been quiet when they’d arrived; with the exception of the disembodied elevator voice, they’d not heard even a peep from another living soul. While she knew that it was because no one else was there, her friend was not to be deterred. She’d followed him into a room where the doors spun around them like a carousel as soon as they were all closed. They’d entered a room that housed a tank full of brains before returning to the main door area which spun again when the door was closed. At least I’d had the forethought to mark the door, she thought. There were a number of other rooms they’d passed through before finally getting to the Hall of Prophecies. Sirius Black wasn’t there, but her instinct to say I told you so was short-lived as they were quickly surrounded by the enemy.

It wasn’t quiet anymore. From the shadows emerged two of the last people she wanted to see up close and personal: Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. Bellatrix was insane, that much was certain. All of those years spent in Azkaban prison had done her no good, and the madness could be clearly seen in her eyes. Lucius Malfoy, though… He was a force to be reckoned with, exuding confidence and raw power, using logic to try and get his way rather than the naked violence Bellatrix was anxious for. His cold and calculating demeanor sent chills down her spine and she was thankful that his focus wasn’t on her. The problem, though, was that he seemed to think that Harry knew something more than her friend was letting on. The elder Malfoy was convinced that Harry was hiding some bit of knowledge, perhaps giving him more credit for intelligence than he deserved, and even going so far as to say, “Do not play games with us, Potter.”

The real battle started shortly thereafter, with Harry giving the signal for them all to cast Reducto and make a run for it. Her group had split up and tried to escape the Death Eaters, who seemed to be right on their heels. She sealed a door behind her, finding herself with Harry and Neville Longbottom in what could only be described as the Time Room. Knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the bad guys were able to break through her spell, Harry suggested that they run and perhaps even hide. She dove under a desk just as the Death Eaters easily countered her charm on the door, but she wasn’t there for long. She knew her aim would be better out in the open and she moved to take out some of the enemy.

Hermione Granger crawled out from her hiding place, all the while surveying the scene around her. Somewhere in the room she heard a deep baritone shouting the beginning of the killing curse, but she couldn’t see the man who was casting, nor did she hear the end of the curse. Her entire being was caught in the penetrating gaze of Lucius Malfoy. There was a surprising play of emotions on the face of a man she was convinced had none; shock, comprehension, and anger passed his features in rapid succession. Her brows furrowed in confusion while watching the blond wage a silent war with himself. She saw his eyes widen in fear when Neville sent a surprisingly strong Stupify at a Death Eater, knocking the masked man back with great force.

Everything moved in slow motion.  The large Death Eater flew through the air straight at her and she knew that she didn’t have time to move from his path.  When his limp body struck hers, they were forced backward into the glass front of the cabinet behind them.  There was enough time for her to feel the shards of glass tearing at her clothes and ripping her skin before a spinning sensation overtook her. As the world she knew twisted before her, her eyes once again met with blue ones that were now only a few feet away. His resigned frown was the last thing she saw before everything went black.

Chapter Text

Hermione opened her eyes to a harsh white light, her heart racing and her fight or flight instinct still present from the battle.  She blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness and began to take in the room around her.  Where she was she wasn’t quite sure, but it most certainly wasn’t Hogwarts. It also wasn’t the Time Room. There was a man in dark robes standing near her and she fully intended on asking him what was going on and where exactly she was.  He must have anticipated her question because the moment she began to open her mouth, he raised a hand to stop her and began to speak.

‘It would be for the best if you allowed me to speak, Miss Granger.  You are currently in an anteroom located near the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic in London, England.  The date today is Wednesday the eleventh of August in the year nineteen hundred and seventy-one.  It is currently half-ten in the morning.  My name is Jenkins and I am an Unspeakable, which means I work here in the Department of Mysteries.  No one is certain how you came about being here, but the speculation is that you are from another time.  Your attire would lead one to believe that you are from the future.  When you appeared in the Time Room, there were three broken Time-Turners on your person along with a broken Vine wand.  You have been here, unconscious, for almost two hours. Your clothes were a bit tattered and you had some scrapes on the back of your head, but I’ve healed those. We have also sent for Headmaster Dumbledore of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as you appear to be around Hogwarts age and we are unsure how long it will take to reverse the magic that brought you here.  He is an extraordinarily intelligent wizard and should be able to come up with a solution as to what to do with you until we find a way to send you back from whence you came.  Now, I know that it is a lot to take in, but do you have any questions for me at this time?’

She stared at him for a moment completely dumbfounded.  Sure, it was a lot of information, but she wasn’t called the brightest witch of her age for nothing.  She had taken in and understood each word Jenkins had said, even if she hadn’t seen his face while he was speaking.  Though his hooded robe obscured his features, his voice rang loud and clear.  Especially the bit about being in the year 1971…  There were a million questions she could have asked, but one sprang from her lips unbidden.

‘How did you know my name?’  Jenkins paused only a moment before reaching into his right pocket and producing a visitor’s badge.  ‘Oh.  Right,’ was her only reply.

‘I will not ask who it was you were trying to save on your little rescue mission nor will I enquire as to how you came into possession of three Time-Turners.  The only piece of information I need from you is the date you came from so that we can work to send you back.’

‘The twelfth of June, 1996,’ she replied.  ‘It’s also a Wednesday.’

Jenkins was motionless, most likely stunned by her proclamation, but he was saved having to respond when the door swung open and admitted a much younger version of her headmaster.  He was dressed in violet robes sprinkled with tiny golden stars.  Behind his half-moon glasses were piercing blue eyes that twinkled kindly at Hermione.  She had no thought other than to return his smile and greet him like a friend when he offered a hello.  The two sat across from each other, Hermione having moved from the sofa she had woken up on over to a seat by the small table across the small room.  Jenkins remained standing but initiated the conversation between them.

‘Professor Dumbledore, sir, thank you for coming.  It is worse than I had initially feared.  If the girl is to be believed, then she comes from almost twenty-five years into the future.  This task was a daunting one without the measure of so many years.  I fear that this will take us months to work out, if not longer.’

‘I was afraid of that,’ came Albus’s reply.  ‘Miss Granger was it?  There are a few questions that I need to ask you and I believe that the Unspeakable will also have a few for you.’

Hermione sat up a little straighter in her chair and addressed Jenkins.  ‘If this is about Time-Turners and the rules for when you use one, you need not worry.  I was entrusted with one during my third year in order to take more classes.  I know the rules, but to be frank, I don’t really think I have to worry about running into another version of myself.  In fact, I would be more concerned with someone from this time recognizing me in my time.’

Dumbledore smiled at her.  ‘While that can be a problem, there are ways around it.  We will discuss that at a later time, though.  First, I need some basic information from you.’

Hermione answered all his questions as truthfully as she could.  He had asked her age, where she had gone to school, what year she was in when she left her time, and what classes she had taken.  Never once did he inquire about her House affiliations or who she may know in this era from her own.  They then discussed her options and decided that since no one was certain she would be able to get back to her own time, she would continue with her education in this time.  The beginning of the new term was a few short weeks away and Hermione would enter as a sixth-year student, having run the gamut of magical testing with the current headmaster.  Even her cover story was created, conveniently backed by her frequent trips to France as a youth.  The other students would be told that she was a transfer, having been home-schooled under the watchful eye of Olympe Maxime before her parent's divorce.  Dumbledore even sent an owl to the French half-giantess to corroborate the story.  It was then that Jenkins spoke up and not only reminded Hermione about the laws of Time-Turners, but also to have her make a vow similar to the Unbreakable Vow stating that she wouldn’t speak of the future with anyone.  While the consequences wouldn’t be as severe as the Unbreakable Vow, there would still be major repercussions.

With all the details worked out, Hermione left the Ministry under the supervision of Albus Dumbledore. The two went immediately to Diagon Alley where they withdrew money from the Special Care Fund of Hogwarts.  From there they went around to all the different shops to procure all the items she would need to start school on September the first. It was strange for her to be making the basic Hogwarts purchases again.  She was to get the basic cauldron, scale, and potions ingredients. She also needed robes and books, as well as a new wand. As they walked past Magical Menagerie, she felt a pang for her half-kneazle, Crookshanks, not knowing what he was doing while she was stranded decades before he was even born.

Before she could fall too deep into the sadness threatening to overtake her, Dumbledore guided her into their first store. Madam Malkin’s provided not only school robes, but also a few key pieces of clothing so that she had things to wear during Hogsmeade weekends and the like.  Flourish and Blotts left her pining for money of her own to purchase books that were rare and collectable in her time.  It was Ollivander’s, though, which provided the most excitement for the trip.

Mr. Ollivander took one look at the witch before him and immediately retreated back into the stacks of long, slender boxes.  Hermione was perplexed, remembering her first trip into the wandmaker’s shop and the magical tape that had measured everything from her height to the distance between her eyes.  This trip was different.  When Ollivander returned, he carried a few boxes with him. He first presented her with a wand made of oak with a phoenix feather core.  It was stiff and unyielding, and he took it back from her almost as soon as it touched her palm.  The second was a rather springy walnut wand with a dragon heartstring core that felt good enough in her hand but emitted angry red sparks when she tried to use it.  Third time was most certainly the charm as when the wand-maker handed over a vine wand with dragon heartstring at its core, she fairly pulsed with magic.  It was a match that left her not the least bit confused; her old wand had been of the same composition.  This wand was just slightly different, the wood a shade lighter and the wand itself a full inch longer.  Other than that, it felt just as good, if not a bit better than her old wand.

With little more than a few kind words from the shop owner, Hermione and Dumbledore paid for the wand and left the shop, making their way to the Leaky Cauldron.  As the hour had grown rather late, the two decided that supper was in order and sat down together to eat.  They went over some last-minute details before Dumbledore took his leave.  Hermione then retired to Room Nine of the Leaky where she would be spending her days before boarding the Hogwarts Express on September the first.  She fell asleep, still fully clothed, not even three minutes after entering the room.

Her dreams that night were a jumbled mix of images and sounds.

One of the nicer things about the Special Care Fund that she was able to enjoy was the small bit of pocket money that was left for her use prior to going to school.  When she woke the next morning and assured herself that the previous day’s activities weren’t some wild dream brought about by too much Butterbeer, she sat down and made up a plan.  The money she was bequeathed would allow her to eat plenty and even pick up some personal items for her bathroom use, but she knew that if she worked it just right, she could get so much more from it.  Therefore, her first stop after her shower was to Gringotts to change a few of her Galleons into Muggle money.  From there she made her way back down the Alley, through the Leaky Cauldron and out into Muggle London.  She only hoped that it hadn’t changed too much in twenty-five years.

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CHAPTER THREE

At long last it was time to leave the Leaky Cauldron and head off to Hogwarts.  Hermione has spent the previous twenty days reading in her room or roaming about Diagon Alley and Muggle London.  She had found a grocery store not far from the Wizarding pub and had stocked up on cereal, bread, and meats and cheese for sandwiches.  Knowing that those basics would sustain her helped a lot toward preserving her funds for other things, such as those books that were hard to find in her time, while still allowing herself one halfway decent meal per day.  Now she was packing her things and readying herself for her journey to Kings Cross, and eventually Hogwarts.

It was a bit odd for her knowing that she was going back to Hogwarts without the comfort and familiarity of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.  There was a part of her that was looking at this experience as a fresh start, but deep down she knew that it wouldn’t be possible.  During one of her many leisurely afternoons spent in her room, she had taken quill to parchment and created a list of anyone she may know as an adult who was currently a student.  The list was longer than she liked.  Unfortunately for her, that meant that she would most certainly be keeping to herself an awful lot in order to prevent any ramifications from the Vow she took.  Hermione decided that she was okay with that though.  She would use whatever time she had here in order to further her education and get ahead for what would hopefully be her real sixth year.  She would attempt to make as little impact as possible.

With that thought in mind, Hermione dressed in her most basic jeans and tee, threw her simple black robe over her arm, and pulled her hair back into an elastic.  She then picked up her bag and left the room she had called home for a little over a fortnight.  There was a taxi waiting for her outside which brought her straight to Kings Cross with almost fifteen minutes to spare.  Hermione paid the driver and then made her way to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Stepping through the archway and onto the platform was almost like coming home for her.  The memories came flooding back and she immediately and instinctively looked around for her two best friends.  It took only a moment for the thought to leave her head.  She knew that they would not be found amongst the crowd and that if she looked hard enough, she was almost certain to find Harry’s parents.  Ron’s parents, if she had done her math correctly, would have already graduated which was perfectly fine by her.  They were two less people for her to potentially run into.

She lowered her head and pushed her cart toward the end of the train where the school trunks were kept.  Once she ensured her things were safely on board, she picked up her rucksack and stepped on the train to find an empty seat.  In years past she would search out an open compartment to share with Harry and Ron and last year, well, last year to her, she found her way into the Prefect’s compartment.  This time though, she was left alone.  No matter.  She would just find a place near a window and read for the duration.

It was a few hours later when the door to her compartment opened and interrupted her reading; she had just cracked open a text on Animagi transformations.  All thoughts about learning the intricate magic behind it was quickly erased from her mind when she looked up into the most crystalline grey eyes she had ever had the misfortune to know.  It took her almost a full five seconds to realize that she was staring up at Lucius Malfoy and not his son, Draco.  Her eyes raked over his face, quickly taking in every detail and cataloging the differences and similarities between the two men.  Just as she began to peruse his lips, she noticed his smirk and met his eyes once again.

‘Good afternoon,’ he began.  ‘I am Lucius Malfoy and I am a school Prefect from Slytherin House.  Headmaster Dumbledore sent an owl stating that there would be a new sixth year student on the train and it would appear that I have found you.  He has made it clear that we are to make you feel welcome and to help you acclimate to life at Hogwarts.  Do you have any questions for me?’

Hermione just shook her head and tried to return her attention to her book.  Not only had she and the headmaster already discussed almost everything in great length, but she also feared opening her mouth and saying something that might spark a memory in the man later on in life.  Lucius, however, must have taken her silence and seeming lack of interest as a snub because when next he spoke, his voice wasn’t nearly as warm and welcoming, if it could have been considered such in the first place.  Hermione, for her part, tried her hardest to not roll her eyes or chuckle at the familiarity of his tone.

‘Seeing as you appear to be otherwise engaged I will take my leave.  However, I remind you that any school Prefect, along with the Head Boy and Head Girl, are always available to assist the students of Hogwarts.  Good day to you.’

Just as he turned to leave her compartment, she spoke to him, the words falling from her mouth before she had a chance to censor herself.  ‘Erm, Mr. Malfoy?  Which House will I be placed in?’

‘Your House is not for me to decide.  If I had to wager a guess, I would think that you will be sorted with the incoming First Years.  Fear not, though.  It is a painless process and takes virtually no time at all.  Now I must bid you a temporary farewell, for I still have rounds to complete.’  With a slight bow in her direction, he once again turned and, this time, left the compartment.

Hermione sat dumbfounded for a few minutes, replaying the conversation in her head over and over.  When she had initially sat down and made her list of people she may know in this time, not once did the name “Lucius Malfoy” cross her mind.  She had been too concerned with all of the adults she had come to know through her friends and through the Order.  Last summer spent at Grimmauld Place had introduced her to a number of witches and wizards, but now that she was thinking on it, those were only members of what some referred to as the Light.  She had never even considered meeting Death Eaters.

Constant vigilance.  The words came to the forefront of her mind and flashed like a beacon in the night.  Voldemort was still very much alive in this time, still gathering followers and climbing to power.  He had yet to kill her best friend’s parents or seemingly die trying to kill the same friend only to be resurrected a year ago…or rather a year ago for her.  Then another thought struck her.  If Lucius Malfoy was still at Hogwarts, then chances were very good that he had yet to take the Dark Mark himself.  If she could only somehow…

No, she told herself.  What she was thinking was impossible.  These things had already happened in her time, even if they hadn’t yet occurred in this.  Changing anything, even something minor, could have major repercussions.  It was a risk she didn’t wish to take.

A few more thoughts occurred to her.  She had referred to him as Mr. Malfoy and yet he hadn’t corrected her.  Most people her age would take offence to being called mister or missus, but then again, he wasn’t most people.  Was it possible that he already felt himself so superior?  Probably.  Draco did, that was for sure.  She hadn’t really thought about it when she addressed him, but then again, he was always “Mr. Malfoy” to her and never “Lucius.”  It also then occurred to her that she hadn’t exactly been nice to him.  She wasn’t rude, but she also wasn’t accommodating.  The truth was that she was simply trying not to make an impression on the Slytherin Prefect, as he had introduced himself.

She was going to be sorted again.  Thinking about it left her more nervous than she had been back in her own first year when she hadn’t really known what was coming.  Sure, she had read up on the school and its traditions, but some things just had to be experienced.  The Sorting Hat had taken what felt like an eternity to place her, considering both Ravenclaw and Slytherin before ultimately putting her in Gryffindor.  Would she have the same outcome this time around?  She wasn’t sure.  Harry had told her that Dumbledore himself thought that the school sorted too early.  A good case for that statement was Peter Pettigrew.  Knowing what had become of the man and all the atrocities he had been party to was enough to make her even more nervous about the sorting.  Would she still be in Gryffindor?  Perhaps now she would go to Ravenclaw.  She never really thought about Slytherin, but if she was being honest with herself, she knew that she could make a case for that House as well.  A stray thought crossed her mind that she never even considered Hufflepuff.  Wouldn’t that be amusing…?

Diving back into her book on Animagi, she tried to concentrate on the words on the page but found herself reading the same passages over and over again.  Her mind wasn’t up to the task of reading and her stomach was beginning to protest because of all of the adrenaline running through her system.  Her nerves were shot and nothing she did calmed her down.  In the end, she simply stared out the window of the train and prayed to whichever deity that would listen that the trip would go quickly.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR

‘Firs’ years over 'ere! Firs’ years this way!’

It was a familiar voice that took Hermione by surprise and almost had her running up to the half-giant to greet him like she normally would.  As soon as she had taken a step in his direction, though, she came back to herself and remembered where she was.  She stood stock still on the platform at Hogsmeade Station and tried to figure out what to do.  Was she supposed to go with Hagrid and cross the lake by boat?  Should she walk down the path to the carriages that were pulled by the Thestrals?  She just didn’t know what to do and the thought left her a bit cold.  Since this was supposed to be her first trip to the school, Hermione once again began to walk toward the booming voice of Rubeus Hagrid.  Before she got too far, a hand came down on her shoulder and a small boy with lanky black hair skidded around her, almost knocking her rucksack from her hand.

‘Excuse me,’ the boy said, and Hermione made to reply, but he was gone.  She instead turned her attention to the owner of the hand that was placed possessively on her right shoulder.  Once again she was met with the searing gaze of Lucius Malfoy.

‘Mr. Malfoy,’ she began.  ‘Is there something I can help you with?’

He chuckled, a sound she was fully surprised by.  ‘I meant to ask you the same question, Miss…’

He left the statement hanging and she knew that he was trying to get a name from her.  She and Dumbledore had discussed this, knew that people would want a name from her, but at this exact moment, that conversation completely failed her.

‘Granger,’ she replied.  ‘Hermione Granger.’  She mentally kicked herself as soon as she said the name, but it was too late to worry about it.  Now she just needed to remember to talk to the headmaster before he did any introductions.  It wouldn’t do for him to call her…what was the name they had decided on again?  She couldn’t remember.  Either way, the hole was dug.  She had introduced herself as Hermione Granger so she needed to stick with it.

It would be easier this way, she rationalized to herself.  When attempting to spin a lie like this, it was best to stick as close to the truth as possible so you don’t mess up when recounting the details.  Besides, she had planned on keeping to herself as much as possible.  She would keep her head (and hand) down in class, would stay to the corners of her common room, and enjoy the privacy of both her bed and the library as much as she could.  There were some people in her year back in the nineties who would try to convince her to make the most of her situation, but she wasn’t having any of it.  Hermione needed to get through this with as little impact on the world around her as possible.

‘Well, Miss Granger, you appear to be a bit lost.  It is custom that new students take the boats across the lake, but I don’t suppose you’re too keen on riding in a boat with a bunch of eleven year olds, now are you?’  She shook her head and he continued.  ‘Come.  I shall show you the way to the carriages.’

Hermione noticed that he did not offer his arm to her like she almost expected him to.  Instead he simply walked a half step in front of her, matching her pace while still obviously leading her in the correct direction.  Once they made it to the carriages, Hermione immediately noticed the lack of horses pulling them and began to ponder the lifespan of Thestrals.  A subtle clearing of a throat alerted her to the fact that she had been standing, staring blankly at the space where she knew the Thestral to be.  She shook her head and climbed into the carriage, joining not only Lucius Malfoy, but two other boys who also appeared to be in Slytherin.  Noting to herself that no introductions were made, she turned her attention to the passing foliage that marked the road to Hogwarts.

The journey to the castle was made in almost complete silence; the only sound to be heard was the crunch of the wheels against rock.  Hermione never once looked at her carriage mates, fearing that she would once more be confronted with Death Eaters from her time.  Instead, she stared up at the school and noted a lone figure standing as if a sentinel in front of the main entrance.  When they stopped at the base of the steps, she climbed down and immediately made her way to the man she now recognized as Albus Dumbledore.  Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, no doubt to address her by the alias Jane Something-or-other that they had decided upon, she shot him a warning look before shifting her eyes to the Slytherin boys ascending the steps behind her.  Fortunately for Hermione, the headmaster seemed to understand the meaning of her look and offered a simple greeting to the boys who all acknowledged him with a mere nod of their heads as they entered the castle.  Once they were out of earshot, Hermione turned to the professor.

‘Oh sir,’ she began, ‘I’m so happy that you didn’t say anything.  I was so afraid that I wouldn’t reach you before any formal introductions were made.  It’s horrible, but I was completely blindsided by him!  Never did I ever –‘

Dumbledore cut her off.  ‘Now calm down.  What is so horrible that has you going on like a mad woman?’

She took a deep breath to calm herself before speaking.  ‘I sat down and tried to think of everyone I knew in my time but I forgot to account for –‘  She managed to stop herself just in time, remembering that she really shouldn’t be speaking about the things she knew.  Instead, Hermione managed to rework her wording as she addressed the headmaster once again.  ‘Seeing Lucius Malfoy caught me off guard and I was so flustered that I gave him my real name.’

‘Well, I can see how that would have been a problem then.  Fortunately, I feel that it is for the best.  After all, it would require some explanation should someone call for you and you didn’t answer.  When telling a lie, sometimes it is best to stick with some truths.’

Hermione smiled at the older man, having already reached the same conclusion, and allowed him to lead her into the Great Hall.  They walked up the center aisle and stopped in front of a rickety stool adorned with what Hermione knew to be the Sorting Hat.  She took a deep breath just as the doors opened again and the first-year students came in.  Once they all reached the front, the hat came to life and began to sing.

Once in a room so long ago
Four friends laid down a plan
To educate those who were young
In the old ways of the land.

Brave Gryffindor had said he would
Teach those who fearless were
While Hufflepuff with a good heart
Took the loyal onto her.

Wise Ravenclaw would instruct those
Whose intelligence was best
While Slytherin, the cunning one,
Put the purest to the test.

With groundwork now laid down for them
The four began the task
Of building an institution for those
In which learning they could bask.

While looking at a weathered hat
A decision then was made
To pour their knowledge into me
And to sort I then was bade.

That day was now so long ago
But my task remains the same.
So step on up and put me on
Now when you hear your name!

Hermione shook her head a bit at the Sorting Hat’s song.  During her years in school, she had heard a few of them, and it still didn’t cease to amaze her how many different ways one hat could tell the same story.  Then again, what else did it have to do but sit about and think up songs?  Harry had told her at the end of their second year that the hat was kept on a shelf in the headmaster’s office, so perhaps it would also converse with the old wizard.  Even that, though, was probably not enough to keep it fully occupied.

She was roused from her musings by the sound of Professor Dumbledore’s voice addressing the school as a whole and recounting just a small bit of her story.  Warmth spread across her cheeks, as she was mildly embarrassed by all the attention.  Fortunately for her, he didn’t linger on words.  Instead, he merely gave her name and a very brief history before bidding her to sit on the stool in order to be sorted.

‘Hmm,’ the hat began.  ‘Very interesting.  A lot of intelligence here.  Bravery, too.  You have loyalties to those you most care about and you would do anything for someone you consider family, but yet you seem to be out of your time here.  Your past is no longer your future and while Ravenclaw would be a good fit for your mind, your other attributes would be lost there.  SLYTHERIN!’

The word took what felt like an eternity to process in her brain.  Slytherin?  She had to have misheard, but the mild applause coming from her right let her knowing that she hadn’t.  Standing slowly, unsure her legs would hold her up properly, she forced a small smile onto her face and made her way toward the noise.  Hermione took a seat at the open end of the table and attempted to calm her racing heart.  Her eyes itched to wander the Great Hall and take in the young faces of those she would come to know as adults, but she knew that she couldn’t allow it.  There were more pressing matters to deal with.  As it was, it took every bit of will power she had not to react to the Sorting Ceremony going on in front of her.  Every few names, or so it seemed, one would be announced that would draw her attention from the spot on the wall she was staring at.

Sirius Black.  Lily Evans.  Remus Lupin.  Peter Pettigrew.  James Potter.  Severus Snape.

There were others that she wondered about, mostly those sorted into either Gryffindor or Slytherin.  How many of the new Gryffindor’s would grow up to lose a loved one or even lose their own lives in the fight against You Know Who?  How many of the Slytherin’s now seated to her left at the end of the table would join the ranks of the Death Eaters, destined to commit atrocities against Muggles and Muggleborns?  Looking at all the fresh-faced children who had just been sorted into their new Houses, Hermione found herself in a melancholy mood, pondering their fates and thinking about how many wouldn’t live to see that fateful Halloween night in Godric’s Hollow.

Thinking about the future sent a jolt of fear through her.  Here she was sitting amongst ghosts, wondering what was to become of most of them when the reality of her own situation came crashing down around her.  She had used a time turner to get here and she knew the rules.  What she didn’t know was how she was supposed to keep them.  Aside from approaching Dumbledore and removing herself from school only to hide away at the Leaky Cauldron or someplace similar while awaiting the Unspeakables, she had no idea what to do.  The logical side of her brain said that she would simply keep to the edges, stay in the shadows and try to talk as little as possible.  That would have to be her course of action.  However, the moment her current housemates learned of her blood status, everything would change.  She would no longer be safe.

As the food materialized onto the table in front of her, Hermione realized just how upset her Sorting had gotten her; she had no appetite.  She knew that she had to eat something, lest she wake in the middle of the night starving.  Nipping off to the kitchens on what was supposed to be her first night at this school would look rather suspicious.  Forcing herself to eat, Hermione found herself lost in the thoughts of just how she could have come to be in Slytherin.

Dumbledore had told Harry that sometimes he thought the school sorted too soon.  This led to a sobering thought about a man who Hermione realized was sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, not that far from her, and the traitor he would become.  A traitor, that was what Hermione herself felt like at that very moment. There she was seated at the Slytherin table when everything inside of her cried out for the sanctity of Gryffindor.  It was where she belonged, where her dorm was, where her friends were…  Only, her friends weren’t here with her now.  They were, for all she knew, still frozen in time back in the Department of Mysteries.  Meanwhile, time was moving forward for her here in 1971 with no clue as to when she would return home.  To her friends.  To the battle.

Who was the Death Eater who had knocked her into the cabinet of Time Turners?  Was he currently seated at the very same table she was?  Had he already gone from Hogwarts?  Was he still at home with his mum and dad?  Once again it struck her that she was now sharing a House with people who would eventually find themselves in Azkaban, people who would perish by the wand of a member of the Order of the Phoenix, people who would murder, people who would murder her if the truth of her heritage got out.

It was in that moment, just as the dinner vanished in favor of dessert, that Hermione Granger vowed to keep to herself at all costs.  She wouldn’t talk to anyone and if anyone asked, she would simply say that she was concentrating on her studies as to not fail at her new school.  Besides, if she didn’t talk, then she wouldn’t have to lie.  Knowing what she did about Time Turners, she knew that there was a very real chance that she would have to remain on this timeline.  If she was going to be stuck in the seventies, then she may as well continue on with her education.  Learning did not mean one had to make friends and the facts in education did not require the cleverly crafted backstory that she and the headmaster had come up with.  The one she had already partially blown by revealing her real name to a man who would come to know her some twenty plus years in his future.  At any rate, there may be things taught in this time that were no longer part of the Hogwarts curriculum and any way she could get ahead in her learning was fine by her.  As long as she didn’t have to sit through that joke of a Divination course.

While contemplating her possible course load, a short, bald wizard with a rather distinctive strawberry mustache streaked with silver, plopped down on the bench beside her.  He rustled about in a small stack of parchments before withdrawing one and turning to her with a smile.

‘Miss Granger!  I’m Professor Slughorn.  I teach Potions here at Hogwarts and I am also Head of Slytherin House.  I’ve come to deliver your timetable for this year.  Now, as I was informed by Headmaster Dumbledore, your abilities are more than adequate for this particular schedule, but I can’t help but wonder about your plans for the future.  What is it you want to do after your schooling is finished?’

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, trying and failing to form words.  The truth of the matter was that she wasn’t quite sure.  Harry and Ron had decided to go the Auror route, providing their O.W.L.’s were decent enough, and she knew instinctively that if she weren’t close to them, they would most likely wind up killing themselves.  This was all contingent on one thing, of course, and that was the downfall of a wizard who, in this time, was still rising to power.  Until he was gone, there was really no point in going after a true career, as her place would always be with Harry, fighting alongside him until the very end.  Whatever that end may be.

With the lack of a solid answer, she spoke the most idyllic opportunity her mind could come up with.  ‘Well, Professor, I would really love to get into Magical Law or possibly Magical Law Enforcement.  I don’t want to be an Auror, but I know that there are many opportunities out there for researchers and I know that I could really make a difference, help write new laws, help reform and repeal unneeded or outdated ones.’

‘How very ambitious of you, dear girl!  Well, everything seems to be in order with your class assignments.  Your Slytherin Prefects are Andromeda Black and Lucius Malfoy, so if you should need anything, they can assist you.  Andromeda will show you to your room, but it would appear that Lucius shares most of your classes.  They can help you acclimate to life here and can answer any questions you may have.  If what Albus has said of your intelligence is true, I’ll wager you and young Mr. Malfoy will become a force to be reckoned with in class.’  He handed her the timetable and made to stand.  ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do have other students to see.  I look forward to seeing you in Potions tomorrow!’

Working with Lucius Malfoy?  Wouldn’t that be amusing.  The thought alone was beginning to give her a headache.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIVE

Hermione ran a hand through her hair and stared at her course list.  Potions, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Herbology, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.  It was quite to course load, but she was more than up for it.  She noted the absence of Divination and almost made to ask about it before thinking better of it.  She wasn’t about to tempt fate asking about a class she wanted no part of anyway.  Also not listed was Astronomy, but again, she wasn’t going to say anything.  More sleep for her!  Besides, while she understood how the position of the stars could affect magic, it wasn’t something she wished to pursue.  Just as Hermione’s mind went into schedule making mode, a slender witch with slightly unruly black hair sat down beside her and began to talk her ear off.

‘Hi!  You’re Hermione, right?  I’m Andromeda Black.  We’ll be sharing a dorm, so I thought I would come over and show you the way.  Slughorn’s already given you your time table, yes?  May I see it?’  At Hermione’s nod, Andromeda took the parchment and looked over it briefly before continuing.  ‘Well, a bit of a bookworm, huh?  This looks like a schedule Lucius would have.  No matter.  We’ll sort you out.  Besides, it isn’t as if spending all your time with Lucius would be a bad thing.  Not exactly hard on the eyes, that one.  It’s too bad, really,’ Andromeda said, taking Hermione by the elbow and leading her toward the dungeons.  ‘If only I had been a year younger, it could have been me.’

Hermione was a bit confused by this statement and simply asked why before Andromeda’s mouth ran away with her again.

‘Well, I’m actually the middle daughter of three, you see.  My mother produced all girls, made our father angry to not have any male heirs, so they went out of their way to arrange decent marriages for us.  My older sister is already married to a Lestrange.  Just had the bonding ceremony last month!  The Lestranges are a very old and powerful pureblood family and the match with Rodolphus and Bella – erm, Bellatrix, but we call her Bella - seemed like a good one.  A lot of lucrative business deals were confirmed with their union.  I was actually set to marry the younger Lestrange brother, Rabastan, but that fell through when we were young.  I think I was three when that contract was dissolved.  Instead I’m to marry Walden Macnair,’ she admitted with a groan.  ‘His family has ties with the Ministry and will help my family gain more standing there.  My younger sister is the lucky one.

‘The Malfoy’s are all about tradition and propriety, and it isn’t proper to have a wife older than her husband.  Since I am older than Lucius, his parents immediately vetoed any attempt at a contract between us.  At one point, my father thought that he had old Abraxas ready to sign for me, but it never happened.  That was actually when my contract with Rabastan fell through; my father thought he wouldn’t need it anymore so he let a few stipulations go unmet and the contract voided.  Anyway, a few months later, my younger sister was born and Mr. Malfoy and my father were able to easily reach an agreement.  So Cissy gets to be the next Lady Malfoy and my family gets more money and prestige.’  Then she turned to Hermione.  ‘So, who are you to marry?’

Blood running a bit cold, Hermione knew she had to do a bit of quick thinking.  Now that she was in Slytherin, it would be assumed by all those around her that she was also a pureblood, and apparently things like arranged marriages were still highly common.  She’d heard some of the Slytherin girls from her own time talking of contracts and dowry’s, but always played it off to herself like they were joking around.  Apparently, they weren’t.  So Hermione reached into her brain and pulled out the smallest lie she could tell without getting herself into more trouble.

‘My contract was dissolved with my parent’s separation.’

And there it was.  She hadn’t really lied, as it was the truth that she didn’t have a contract, but the fact that there had never been a contract wasn’t something she was anxious to reveal.  A part of her had wanted to continue on, stating that this was one of the reasons for her return to England and that she hoped she would find a good match for her and her family, but that would only be digging herself deeper into this hole she was excavating.  Simplicity was the best in this case.  Let them form their own opinions.

She was also happy to learn that Bellatrix Lestrange wouldn’t be matriculating with her.  She had seen that woman up close in the Department of Mysteries less than a month before…  Well, it was less than a month to her, whereas in this time, it had yet to happen.  These little time differences were beginning to turn her headache into a raging migraine.  She would have to remember to get a Pepper-Up Potion as soon as possible!  In any event, headache or not, not having to deal with the lunatic that was Bellatrix was a plus for Hermione.  She knew that she could probably avoid Narcissa fairly easily, as the youngest Black sister was a few years younger than she was now.  Escaping Andromeda, on the other hand, would be more difficult.

And then it hit her: Andromeda Black?  Tonks!  This was Tonks’ mum!  This was the witch who had fallen in love with a Muggleborn and married him, shirking familial responsibility and getting herself blown off of the Black Family Tree at Grimmauld Place.  If there was anyone in Slytherin House with her now that might be a bit sympathetic to her, it would most certainly be this witch standing next to her, still droning on and on about the unmatched males of respectable breeding.  Perhaps it was just for show?  Maybe Andromeda didn’t know where Hermione’s opinions laid and was taking the safe route by portraying the proper pureblood?  Either way, Hermione knew this woman’s future, even if she didn’t know the circumstances surrounding it, and she knew that if push came to shove, she had at least one ally in Slytherin house.

Hermione hadn’t realized it, but they had made their way all the way down into the dungeon’s and were now standing in front of a portrait of a rather regal looking knight standing before a moat.  Andromeda made to give the password, but heard the unmistakable chatter of the incoming first years and decided to wait a moment.  Sure enough, Lucius Malfoy came around the corner, leading a group of twelve new Slytherin’s behind him.  Stopping just before the portrait, he turned to address the youngsters, including Hermione in his speech by occasionally making eye contact with her.

‘This is the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room.  The password is currently “Astute” but that can change at any time.  If you’ll all follow me…’

His voice trailed off as the portrait clicked open and he and Andromeda made their way in with Hermione and the first years close behind.  Once they were in, the first thing Hermione noticed was the greenish hue that seemed to permeate the common sitting area.  When her eyes fully adjusted to the dim lighting, she was able to take in the opulence of the furnishings before realizing that every seat was taken, every corner filled with students.  Andromeda took Hermione by the elbow and led her over to an empty space near steps that Hermione presumed must go down to the dormitories.  Leaning against the wall, Hermione watched Andromeda take her place beside Lucius while the latter addressed Slytherin en masse.

‘A few announcements: Our Head Boy and Head Girl this year are from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, respectively.  Do try to stay out of their way, especially Smythe from Gryffindor, as he has made a habit of needlessly docking us house points in the past while a Prefect.  Jones is a bit more of a bleeding heart, so you may be able win a few points by being helpful and polite, should the need strike and you notice her about.  Be ever mindful of the caretaker, Mr. Filch, along with the house ghosts and Peeves the Poltergeist.  Most of the ghosts should pay you no mind, but all will turn you in for misbehavior, Peeves most certainly dropping a few Dungbombs on you in the process.

‘First years, please note the announcement board to the left of where you entered.  Any and all pertinent details of life here at Hogwarts will be listed there for your knowledge.  It is your responsibility to check the board daily, if not more often than that, as things often come up and the password to our Common Room can and will change without prior notice.  Should you find yourself in a position where you are unable to enter, you will simply have to wait for someone with the current password to come along and let you in.

‘If an issue arises between you and a fellow Slytherin that cannot be mutually resolved, feel free to approach any sixth or seventh year Slytherin for assistance.  Should something come up that involves someone from any other House, you are to come directly to either myself or Andromeda Black.  We are your Prefects and are able to handle anything you can throw at us.  In the highly unusual circumstance that neither of us can be reached, you are to contact Professor Slughorn, as he is head of Slytherin House.  As a rule, Slytherin issues are dealt with inside Slytherin, so whenever possible, try not to involve any other House.

‘Your things have already been brought down, so all students under fifth year are excused to your dormitories for the night.  Do not forget that breakfast is served beginning at six in the Great Hall.’

Lucius paused to let all the younger students leave the common area for their beds.  As the space opened up a bit, Hermione found herself reeling a little.  The way the speech had gone had left little doubt in her mind about the private nature of this House she had been sorted into.  When she had first arrived at Hogwarts at age eleven, they were told that they could go to any Prefect or staff member to sort out any issues.  Professor Dumbledore himself had even encouraged them to simply stop him in the halls should they need to discuss something with him.  The words she had just listened to sounded more like a survival guide than a welcoming speech and that worried her a bit.  Before she could think any more on it, all the younger students were gone and the room fell silent in expectation.

‘Fifth years,’ Lucius began, ‘your O.W.L.’s are going to take up a rather large portion of your time this year.  Should you wish to escape the commotion of the Common Room, there is a private library located down the hall to the left of the fireplace.  It is the first door on the left and contains books relevant to your studies.  If there is a particular text you require that isn’t already located there, simply summon a Hogwarts house-elf to fetch it for you.  None of you have any need to set foot in the main Hogwarts Library this year.  Seventh years, your private library is directly across the hall from the fifth year library.  There is also a communal potions lab through the portrait of the prancing ponies directly across from the Common Room entrance.

‘Please note that should you take any potions from our private cabinet, you are required to make documentation of what you took and when so that the elves can replenish our stores.  This is especially important in regards to the Pepper-up and Contraceptive potions.  If we do not know you took it, we cannot replace it.  Also, any alcohol consumption done in witness of the younger students is punishable by the revocation of your right to imbibe.  Please keep all drinking to the lounge.  While we all do our best to look out for one another, it is still up to your own discretion.  If you are found to be the one who ruins the privileges for the whole, you will be suitably punished.’

With those final words spoken in a tone that brooked no argument, the group began to disperse.  Most of the students meandered off to bed, but a small group of boys closed in on Lucius who, much to Hermione’s disappointment, was headed her way.  Fortunately, Andromeda sat down next to her just before the boys got to her.

‘Gentlemen,’ the blond wizard said, ‘allow me to introduce Hermione Granger.  She is new to England, having been homeschooled in Paris for her prior education.  I trust you will all treat her with the respect due a fellow Slytherin.’

‘I’m Jupiter Wilkes,’ began a dark haired boy just to Lucius’s left, extending his hand for her to shake.  ‘You’re from France?  My family has a nice villa on the Riviera.’

A slightly taller blond boy stepped around Wilkes to make his own introductions.  ‘Don’t listen to Wilkes.  He thinks a six bedroom shack qualifies as a villa,’ he said, making Andromeda chuckle from beside Hermione.  ‘Galerius Avery.  It’s a pleasure.’

‘Rabastan Lestrange, my lady,’ stated a lanky boy with almost black hair.  ‘Your name is Hermione, yes? A bit of a mouthful, that one.  Mind if I just call you Mione?’ he asked in a flirting tone.

‘So long as you don’t expect me to answer,’ she snapped back.  Rabastan momentarily looked as if she’d slapped him, but Hermione was saved any comeback when the others started laughing. Then Andromeda took her hand and stood with her.

‘While I’m happy you all are attempting to play nice and get along, I’m a bit tired and would like to be heading off to sleep now.  Hermione,’ she said, dragging the other girl away from the boys, ‘I’ll show you to the dormitories.’

Hermione allowed herself to be removed from the crowd, bidding them a good night, and followed Andromeda down some stairs and through a solid oak door.  The light in this room also held a bit of the green hue, but it was much more subdued than the main common room.  There were sconces along the walls and five four-poster beds dominated the space.  Hermione’s trunk sat closed at the foot of the bed farthest from the door.  Making her way over, she tried to be mindful of the other three sleeping figures in the room and make as little noise as possible.  After putting on her night clothes, Hermione slipped into her bed and bid Andromeda good night.  Then she drew the curtains and began to contemplate her day.

She really shouldn’t have been surprised to see Lucius Malfoy in a position of power.  Somewhere along the line, she seemed to have recalled someone telling her that he was a Prefect during his later years of schooling.  She also expected the cool aloofness that he often exuded.  What she hadn’t expected was how nice the other Slytherin’s were being toward her.  Never in her time at Hogwarts had any member of that particular House treated her with anything other than disdain.  Then again, she remembered, she had been a Gryffindor.  And she was a known Muggleborn.  Neither were the case now.

But how had she ended up in Slytherin?  Harry had once told her that the Sorting Hat had considered Slytherin for him, but upon Harry’s emphatic request had placed him in Gryffindor instead.  Hermione had never really considered asking for a specific House, so she had let the Hat reason out its choice.  But why Slytherin?  Sure, she realized that some of the things she had done in the past could be construed as Slytherin, but she had always thought it more altruistic than anything.  She had certainly felt a bit of selfish pride when she discerned Snape’s potions riddle during her first year.  Brewing the Polyjuice Potion in her second year had fed not only her ego, but also her pride, knowing that she could accomplish such a complicated potion at such a young age.  It didn’t matter to her that she had ended up in the hospital wing as a result.  That was nothing to do with her and everything to do with Millicent Bulstrode’s cat.  Her Time Turner adventure had been to save an innocent man…and an innocent hippogriff.  Fourth year, she was simply trying to keep Harry alive.  This last year, she was trying to help keep them all alive.  Besides, it wasn’t as if she was really breaking the rules.  Hogwarts itself had refused to recognize any authority from that toad Umbridge.  And she most certainly got what was coming to her for trying to use an Unforgivable on Harry, Hermione figured.  Then she spared a moment to wonder where the Centaurs had taken the older witch.

None of that mattered now.  That was in the past, or rather the future, depending on how one looked at it.  For the time being, she was stuck in 1971 with no idea how long she would be there.  Her course load was rather large, so hopefully she wouldn’t be forced to mingle with her fellows.  She would be able to secret herself away to do homework and essay’s, all the while keeping the truth of her identity safe.  Hermione’s final thought before sleep claimed her was that of Harry and the others, back in her own time, stuck frozen in a battle with some of the very men she now shared a history with, no matter how innocuous she planned on that history being.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIX

September seemed to fly by yet drag on endlessly all at the same time.  The first day of classes had elicited the usual excitement of years gone by before the reality of her situation descended upon her and brought with it a mounting sense of dread.  Walking from the Slytherin Common Room to the Great Hall for breakfast had felt like a much longer journey than she was used to making, despite the fact that it was leagues closer than Gryffindor Tower.  Scanning her table, Hermione once again wondered how many of her current peers would grow to take the Dark Mark.

How many already had?

It was that thought that constantly haunted her, always reminding her to avoid forging friendships despite her loneliness.  The only person she really talked to was Andromeda Black, but even that was sporadic.  Hermione’s days were spent going from class to class, avoiding eye contact and trying her hardest to keep her hand down.  It had turned out that she had a few classes with Andromeda, but as she had been told the first day, most of her schedule coincided with that of Lucius Malfoy.

Going about a daily routine in a time before she was even born was trying and tiring for her. Everywhere she turned she saw something familiar, and yet at the same time, this whole experience was surreal and foreign. Whispers of conversations in the halls would have her whipping her head around, hoping to see a familiar face, only to be greeted by the backs of passing students. At the end of a long day she often found herself halfway to Gryffindor Tower before realizing her mistake and trekking down to the dungeons. The unmistakable shock of blond hair she seemed to notice at every turn was the most confusing of all.

There was nothing for it, no way around it. For all he resembled his son, or rather for all his son resembled him, Lucius Malfoy was NOT Draco Malfoy. There was no disdain in Lucius’s eyes when he looked at her. When he spoke to her, his words were civil, almost friendly. Hermione tried hard to remember who he was, who he would become, but it was often difficult to reconcile the man she knew with the one she was interacting with on a daily basis. Between dealing with Lucius Malfoy and trying to watch what she said and how she acted around Andromeda Black, Hermione was certain she would go completely mad before she returned to her own time. Her only saving grace was her classes, when she could sit in the back, nose buried in her work, and keep completely to herself. The problem was that either Andromeda or Lucius were in all of her classes.

Potions was a lesson shared with both, along with Rabastan Lestrange.  On the first day of classes, the four took up a common work space knowing that should partners be required, they would be taken from the same table if possible.  Hermione had put her head down and worked diligently on her Draught of the Living Death, all the while pretending to listen to Andromeda’s incessant chatter, ignoring Rabastan’s constant flirtation, and avoiding Lucius’s penetrating and curious gaze.  At the end of the lesson, she bottled her potion, cleared her space, and left the room, never once speaking to either of the Slytherin boys.  It was a pattern that she hoped to continue for the whole of her time there.

It was a difficult task for Hermione to keep her head and hand down in class, but somehow she managed.  Instead, she focused all her energies on her studies in order to maintain marks that were acceptable to her.  The downside to putting all her effort into her work was that she often found herself with little to do besides people watch.  During her revision every night, she would frequently and silently take note of the others in her House.

Andromeda was most certainly the social butterfly of the group; no one could ever accuse her of being shy.  The other girls in her year would often be found hanging on the middle Black sister’s every word and agreeing with her or laughing at her jokes, regardless of if they actually agreed or found her amusing.  Always close to Andromeda’s side was a girl by the name of Marjorie Selwyn, whom everyone referred to as Margie.  Margie was a petite witch, standing no taller than your average first year and so thin that you thought she would blow away at the slightest breeze.  Two other girls, a tall blonde named Serendipity and a rather average looking redhead that everyone called Liz also fell into Andromeda’s main social circle.  There were others who came and went from the group, both older and younger, but it appeared as if the name Black held a lot of sway over the other Slytherins.

While Andromeda’s outgoing nature drew attention from the Slytherin girls, the cool aloofness and powerful aura of Lucius Malfoy gained admiration from most of the boys.  Most time he could be found sitting before the fireplace with his usual band of friends.  Wilkes, Avery, and Lestrange were always closest to him, along with a few seventh-year boys that Hermione hadn’t taken the time to meet properly.  There was also the occasional fourth or fifth year about, but the thing that surprised her most was the presence of a slightly gangly first year that she knew to be Severus Snape.

It was always a bit jarring to see the younger version of a man she was so familiar with from her own time.  He was so ambivalent, trying to fit in while keeping to himself.  Sometimes in the halls, Hermione would see him walking with a first year Gryffindor girl who almost reminded her of Ginny Weasley.  Other times, he was quite alone, looking for all the world as if he was merely trying to blend into the walls.  It was with quite a shock that Hermione realized the young Gryffindor Snape would walk with was Lily Evans, who would grow to marry James Potter, and give birth to Hermione’s best friend before losing her life.  Seeing the two in the halls together was almost enough to make her cry, not only forcing her to accept the fates that awaited them, but also simply because she missed her friends.

As September reached its half-way point, the longing ache in her chest intensified.  She had thus far been successful in keeping herself distant from the rest of the students, but the giant hole in her heart felt bigger and bigger the closer it got to the nineteenth.  Hermione had been in the past for a full month and the absence of her best mates on her birthday was causing a depression unlike anything she had ever experienced.  Coupled with that malaise was the appearance of nightmares.  The details of the dreams were always sketchy when she bolted upright in her bed, but the theme was clear: She was being chased through the Ministry of Magic by Death Eaters.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

It was late, half one in the morning and Hermione was seated on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room.  She’d had another nightmare about the events in the Department of Mysteries prior to her time travel and found that she couldn’t get back to sleep.  Since she was wide awake anyway, she decided to get a jump on a Potions essay that was due in a few weeks.  That was how Lucius found her, almost an hour after she had begun working.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m writing my Potions essay.’

‘Are you certain about that?’ he asked, confused.  ‘It seemed as if you were feeding the fire.’

Apparently, he’d been watching her for at least a few minutes, for he seemed to be on to her.

‘I’m not feeding the fire,’ she snapped back.  ‘I told you that I’m working on the Potion’s assignment!’

‘Then tell me why you keep throwing parchment into the flames.’

Hermione took a deep breath and prepared to snap back at Lucius.  She turned in her seat, but when she looked up at him, she saw amusement and even a hint of warmth behind his eyes.  All thoughts of rudeness died on her lips as he flashed a slight smile at her.  Shaking her head, she turned back to the parchment before her and reread her most recent work.  Finding it severely lacking, Hermione crumbled it up into a ball and tossed it toward the flames.  Before the offending essay reached the hearth, it was summoned back away from the fire and into the hands of the tall, blond man who was now residing on the sofa beside her.  He unrolled the sheet and read over the few inches she had decided were unworthy of submitting.

‘You were really going to chuck this?’ Lucius asked her in a most perplexed tone.

‘Don’t patronize me, Malfoy,’ she snapped.  ‘I know how bad it was.  I wrote it, remember?’

Lucius simply stared at her, watching in awe as she began writing anew.  ‘Bad?  You must be joking.  Most of the Ravenclaws would be chuffed to bits to lay claim to this, yet here you sit, carelessly throwing it away.  Are you mad, witch?’

‘Yes, well, I’m not in Ravenclaw, now am I?  Besides, I need to make good marks if I am to have any chance at a decent career, and with N.E.W.T.s coming up, I need to be prepared.’

‘I would say you are more than prepared.  Judging by the looks of this, I would say it rates at least an E, if not an O.’  Lucius sighed and stood.  ‘It’s no wonder you have no social life.  You should relax a bit, Hermione.  There is more to Hogwarts than the pursuit of perfection.’

‘That may be true, but when school is over and I apply for a job, no potential employer is going to ask me how many friends I made at school.  However, I can guarantee that they will be most interested in how many N.E.W.T.s I received.’

Hermione continued to write, finally happy with the progression of the essay, and never noticed Lucius studying her.  As she began work on the second roll of parchment, she heard him slip from the room.  Hermione then began writing in earnest, finally able to direct her thoughts toward something that wasn’t Lucius Malfoy or the way her name had sounded in his voice.  It was the first time he had used her first name, preferring to address her as Granger in a way that was oddly reminiscent of his son, but without the tone of contempt and loathing that the younger Malfoy had always used.  She had dropped the “Mister” from his name and the two had gotten on just fine referring to each other by their surnames.  The sudden change from him had set her slightly off kilter, but she was determined to push past it and go on as if nothing had changed.

Determination turned out to be the least of Hermione’s problems on that particular Sunday.  Without the usual distraction of classes to occupy her mind, Hermione spent most of the day trying, and failing, to lose herself in books.  While she could most certainly attribute a part of her problem to having stayed up writing her Potions essay until half four in the morning, that wasn’t even a drop in the bucket that was her issues.  Sitting near the wall at the edge of the common room, Hermione couldn’t help but see people in threes.  Andromeda was sitting near the stairs that lead to the dormitories with Margie and Liz.  Lucius took up his regular position by the hearth with Rabastan and Severus.  There was a group of fifth years huddled over some books near Lucius.  A few first years were practicing wand movements by the hall that lead to the Slytherin study rooms.  And on.  And on.

Hermione’s heart ached as she picked up book after book, all of them focused on friendship and love, two things that didn’t exist for her in this time.  She finally gave up reading as a bad job when she settled on a book that turned out to be a tale of a young girl who had been separated from her parents with no hope of ever seeing them again.  The only fortunate thing about her disgust with this particular novel was that it was late enough in the day that she could retire to bed and not be looked at strangely.  She lay in bed awake for four hours before the last of her dorm mates drifted off into the arms of Morpheus.  Unable to take it any longer, Hermione rose, pulled on her dressing gown and padded back down to the common room.

The room was mercifully empty.  Hermione didn’t think that she had the patience to deal with anyone at that moment and was thankful that everyone else had decided to retire to bed at a semi-reasonable hour.  Settling down before the fireplace, she lost herself in thought while staring at the dying embers of the fire.  Memories of time spent with Harry and Ron up in the Gryffindor Tower rushed to the forefront of her mind as tears began to seep from her eyes.  She didn’t know how long she had sat there, it could have been a few minutes or even a few hours, but she was startled from her thoughts by the appearance of a handkerchief in front of her eyes.

‘Thanks,’ she said without looking up at her visitor, choosing instead to dab at her eyes with the cloth.

‘I’ve been wondering when you were finally going to break down,’ came the surprisingly calming voice of Lucius.  At her shocked look, he continued.  ‘Since I left you down here last night you’ve looked as if you’ve lost your best friend.’

Lucius and Hermione sat in silence for a few minutes, Hermione regaining control of herself while Lucius waited patiently for her to speak.  After a few hiccoughs, she was finally able to talk.

‘It’s hard for me, being here,’ she began, unable and unwilling to meet his steady gaze. ‘Being away from everything I’ve ever known. Not having my friends here when I need them. I feel as if my entire world has been turned upside down, like I’m living in a different country, on a different planet, so far out of my comfort zone that I can’t tell which way is up and that the next step will drop me over the precipice and into my destruction. It’s so hard for me, looking around and knowing –‘

Hermione stopped dead in her little speech, suddenly aware of where she was and with whom she was speaking. She had almost given herself away to an enemy while breaking the laws of the errant time turners that had brought her into the past. Taking a deep breath, she stared down at her hands setting intertwined in her lap while mentally reviewing what she had said and trying to figure out how much she had given away.

‘Well, you are in a different country, so I can understand where that feeling comes from.’

His voice held the slightest teasing tone, but Hermione knew that she had to redirect the conversation away from that very minor verbal slip.

‘Yesterday was my birthday,’ she revealed. ‘It was the first time in my entire life that I didn’t have friends or family surrounding me, making me feel happy while taking the mickey out of me for being another year older.’

Once again there was silence between them.  Hermione was feeling vulnerable for giving up that piece of information, but at the same time she was happy that there was finally someone in this time that she could talk to, even if just a little. While it was nice having Andromeda about, and knowing where the witch’s loyalties would eventually lie, the middle Black sister was currently showing none of the ideals she would later possess. Sitting with Lucius and exposing herself to him, even if only a little, was like giving over to the devil she knew. A rather large part of her expected him to deride her for her vulnerabilities, for not better internalizing her pain. Thankfully, though, he was surprisingly human and very unlike the man he would become as an adult. He simply offered the proverbial shoulder to cry on while saying nothing about the very real tears still occasionally falling from her eyes.

The clock chiming twice pulled them both from their thoughts. Hermione noticed that Lucius visibly started at the first tone, but didn’t call him on it. Instead, she used the late hour to remove herself from a situation that was far too close to crumbling her already fragile resolve. Distance was needed here, not more revelations about her life before the start of term.

‘Thank you for listening,’ she said while standing. ‘I apologize for burdening you with my insecurities.’

The words were what she thought he would want to hear mixed with just a smidgen of self-pity. She didn’t care, though. Having spent a little over a month in a time before she was born, she was allowed to feel a little sorry for herself. What she wasn’t expecting was his hand on hers as she tried to leave the room without another word. The action shocked her, causing her to pull her hand back almost as if she were burned. The hurt look that briefly crossed his face forced another wave of sadness washed over her.

‘I’m sorry. I just… I just can’t.’ Hermione turned and fled the room, running down the hall toward her dorm and leaving behind a very bewildered Malfoy.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVEN

She could tell that something was different, almost amiss, when she walked into the Slytherin Common Room following breakfast on Tuesday the twelfth of October.  There was an excited and anticipatory air about the room and its inhabitants were buzzing about, speaking in low voices while huddled together in small groups. It didn’t take long before she found out what all the fuss was about.

‘First Hogsmeade visit is this weekend!’ exclaimed Andromeda. Then, as if she suddenly remembered who she was speaking to, she went into more detail. ‘The local Wizarding village is called Hogsmeade. I know that you’re aware of the basics, but this is a huge break for us. I can’t wait to show you around! I’ll even buy us lunch at the Three Broomsticks. They have the best fish and chips this side of London!’

Hermione readily agreed, looking forward to a venture into Hogsmeade if only to escape the castle and its constant memories. She was excited to see the village as it was before she would come to know it. A thought fluttered through her mind of a possible bookshop… She had a little money saved and knew that if she asked, the Hogwarts Special Care Fund would provide her with more, but she didn’t want to be greedy. She would only ask for more if she ran out.

The week went by faster than most. As the days passed from one into the next, the palpable excitement in the castle grew to a fever pitch. By the time Saturday rolled around, the students were whipped almost to a frenzy. Hermione couldn’t remember the last time she’d entered the common room to such a commotion. Upon further thought, even during her time the Gryffindor’s were a bit lazy on Hogsmeade days. She couldn’t figure out why the Slytherin’s were so different. Maybe she was over thinking it.

Hermione sat on a chair close to the fireplace and waited for Andromeda to emerge from the loo. Using the time she knew she had, she observed the groups that had quickly formed around the room. The first and second years were not surprisingly missing from the scene. The third years were all a flutter with excitement over their first trip to the nearby Wizarding village. Fourth and fifth year students were also excited, but were trying to act calm about it. Apparently it didn’t do to seem too keen on doing something as routine as going to Hogsmeade. What struck Hermione the most was the group of sixth and seventh year boys who were speaking in low tones in a far-off corner of the common room. She thought it odd that each time someone would wander close to the group, they would go quiet. Before she could think too much on it, though, Andromeda was at her side, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the main common room door.

‘He’ll be along,’ Andromeda said.

Hermione looked at her, confused. ‘Who?’

‘Lucius, of course.’ There was a teasing tone in her voice. ‘Look. I know he and my sister are to be married, but there’s nothing stopping you from having a bit of fun with him.’

‘Oh! No! You’ve misunderstood something. I’m not interested in Lucius.’ When Andromeda raised a disbelieving eyebrow, Hermione pressed on in an even more forceful voice. ‘I’m not! I was just wondering what they’re all talking about over there.’

‘Oh, you know. Probably the Cause,’ she speculated while rolling her eyes. ‘But that’s not what’s important right now! I can’t wait to show you Hogsmeade! While it’s just a quaint little village, there’s still some decent shopping. Plus there’s no beating Honeydukes for sweets, or The Three Broomsticks for a bit of a kip, if you know what I mean.’

The air was cold and the low-lying clouds threatened rain. A few times on the path away from the school, Hermione was certain she felt a few drops of cold autumn rain upon her face, but Andromeda assured her that it wasn’t going to start raining until they got to Hogsmeade. She was wrong, though. Just as the pair passed the Quidditch Pitch and the gates to the castle grounds came into view, the skies opened up.  Both girls shrieked and started running toward their destination. They had only taken a few steps before arms were thrown around them. Hermione struggled a bit before the calming tones of Lucius Malfoy filled her ears.

‘Hermione, relax,’ he said. ‘It’s just me.’

She calmed instantly and was immediately struck by the irony of the situation. Here she was being calmed by the fact that she was in the arms of Lucius Malfoy, when in her past and his future, she knew that was a very dangerous place to be. In this time, in this place, this man was as much a threat to her as her own shadow. That thought alone was enough to force a chuckle from her. Lucius looked at her and shook his head at her mirth. Then he removed his jacket and transfigured it into an umbrella large enough for the two of them.

Hermione was in a bit of a stupor over the surprising gesture. Had she been with Ron, he no doubt would have made a joke about her being a witch. Not Lucius. He never said a word, only created the umbrella and offered silently to share it with her. A few feet away, though, a scuffle was heard. When Hermione had been grabbed by Lucius, Andromeda had found herself in the arms of Walden Macnair. Hermione and Lucius both watched in amusement as the witch did everything in her power to lose her would be husband, but the man would not take the hint. Andromeda barely spared Hermione a glance as she ran down the path and away from her pursuer, who followed rather close behind her.

The walk to Hogsmeade was quiet and slightly awkward for Hermione. While it had been almost a month since the night she had begun to confess and then ran out on him, this was the first time they’d really been alone enough to discuss it. She’d done it that way on purpose. She’d been so nervous about how close she’d come to blowing everything that she’d been avoiding him. They’d talked in class and in passing in the common room, but she’d managed to keep it strictly school related. Hermione doubted she’d be so lucky today.

It was Lucius who first broke through the silence that was hanging around them. She’d made a few noises as if to start speaking, but found that she was unable to do so. Something about the way she would catch him glancing at her had kept any words she may have wanted to say stuck in her throat. He, apparently, was not suffering the same affliction.

‘How are you enjoying Hogwarts so far?’ he’d asked. It seemed an innocent question, but Hermione could tell from the look in his eyes that there was more to this inquiry than a simple conversation starter.

‘It’s different,’ she responded, being completely honest for a rare occasion. ‘I feel as if I’ve been attending school here for years, but at the same time there is so much new for me to experience.’ She knew that he was fishing for a compliment in that purely Malfoy way, but she was unwilling to go down that road. It would only lead to trouble, and so she avoided it.

He seemed to notice that she wasn’t going to be forthcoming with the answers he sought. She could tell the exact moment when his mind went into that cold and calculating place that she knew he had inside of him because his eyes narrowed slightly, and the color shifted from a cool blue to almost a slate color. Hermione shuddered. It was a bit jarring to realize that she was coming to know him so well when she was blatantly trying to stay away from him…for both their sakes.

‘Hogsmeade really is a quaint little hamlet if ever there was one,’ Lucius stated. ‘You’ll find a lot of interesting shops there. Is there anything in particular you’re looking to purchase today?’

‘Books,’ she answered without a moment’s hesitation. ‘There are a few I’ve been unable to find back in my-‘

She’d been close to saying ‘in my time’ before she’d thought about what she was saying. This was another moment for her where she realized she’d be better off taking a vow of silence. It seemed that every time she got into a real conversation with the man to her left she came perilously close to revealing her true past. Hermione knew that she needed to explain her sudden silence, but also accepted that she needed to keep it brief, lest she trip up on the details of her farce later.

‘The bookshop where I’m from doesn’t stock a lot of texts I’m interested in.’

There. It wasn’t a lie, as the bookshop near her parent’s home was a quaint little children’s book store. Hermione had stopped reading far off tales and children’s stories many years ago. Now she longed for magical texts that she couldn’t find in her own time due to the nature of the topics or simply just something going out of print.

Just as she’d thought about picking up any rare-for-her books, the real quagmire hit her. If she purchased anything she wanted to have later, where would she keep it? Sure for now she could just place anything she had in her school truck, but that trunk wouldn’t be hers forever. Eventually she would return to her rightful time and then what? What would become of her belongings? What would happen to any mementoes of her time in 1971?

Lucius and Hermione continued on into Hogsmeade Village in a semi-companionable silence. Lucius would make conversation with her and while she would answer and engage him as well, her mind was elsewhere. The circle kept going around and around inside of her head as to what she would do with her things when the time came to return to her time, to her friends. Just as Lucius and Hermione arrived in front of the first building on High Street, the thought came to her like a beacon of light at the end of a tunnel.

 ‘The Room of Requirement!’ Hermione was so happy that she’d reached a plausible conclusion to her problem that she didn’t stop to think of her surroundings. She had her face raised to the sky as if that was where the answer had been written so she didn’t see the huge puddle at her feet. When her right foot fell into the small hole, her arms flailed out for purchase and grasped onto the only thing nearby: Lucius Malfoy. Her momentum took her down and brought him with her. They landed in a heap, him on top of her, and their eyes met for a full two or three seconds before reality came back to her. She tried to move from under him, but he held his position for a heartbeat longer before standing and helping her to her feet.

‘The room of what?’ Lucius asked.

She thought quickly, trying to remember what she had said before she landed her on her back, on the ground. Under him. ‘The Room of Requirement. It’s also known as the Come and Go Room. I’d overheard a few of the Hogwarts elves talking about it the other day and it if their conversation is to be believed, it could be the answer to a problem of mine.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes!’ she exclaimed as the lies fell easily from her lips. ‘It’s become increasingly difficult for me to revise in the Common Room or the designated study areas, and the Library is always busy. If this room is where I think it is, then I can just will a quiet study area into existence and have peace while I do my revision!’

‘So you think you know where this room is?’ he asked, the disbelief clear in his tone.

‘I believe I do! The other day I was up on the seventh floor and I really needed the loo. Obviously there isn’t one around there, but when I passed the tapestry of trolls learning ballet, I noticed a door that wasn’t there before. Turned out to be a loo! Then a few days later when I was up there again, I looked for it, but it was gone. That has to be it!’

Of course, Hermione knew where the room was, as they had used it for Dumbledore’s Army during her fifth year. The story of the bathroom was only a partial fabrication. She had heard Dumbledore tell a similar story to Igor Karkaroff during fourth year. The thoughts of the Durmstrang headmaster and Dumbledore’s Army had reminded her of exactly who she was with: a Death Eater. Before she could think on it too much, he spoke.

‘This room, this loo you say? How would that help you revise?’

‘If the elves are to be believed, then the room will take the form of your needs. Hence why it’s called the Room of Requirement. The room becomes what you require of it.’

Hermione noticed the mischievous glint in Lucius Malfoy’s eyes and immediately wondered if she’d given him too much information. As her mind worked furiously on the implications of their conversation, he opened the door to the first store, a bookstore, and ushered them both inside.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Hogsmeade visit had gone rather well. In the first store, Hermione had found seven books that she’d really wanted to get her hands on, but the prices were entirely out of her range. She’d picked up the least expensive one and put down the rest when Lucius asked if she was ready to go. Apparently the wishful look in her eyes was all Lucius needed to try to win Hermione’s favor…or so she thought. When he’d offered to purchase the other books for her, they’d first talked and then argued a bit before Hermione allowed him to buy the books for her. His argument was that despite her family’s financial state after the end of a marriage, something that in this day and age was highly costly, she still deserved to live a life to which she was accustomed. Besides, he’d argued, he had more than enough money for a few books.

She’d left the book shop with a smile on her face, despite who put it there. Next, they’d gone to Honeydukes where she spent almost a full Galleon on sweets. Well, strictly speaking the Galleon wasn’t hers, as once again Lucius had insisted on paying. The clock above the register had told her that she needed to be getting to the Three Broomsticks for lunch. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Andromeda since they were ambushed on the path to the village that morning, but she was sure the older witch would be there.

She was right.

Hermione and Lucius had joined Andromeda and Walden for a spot of lunch and then the quartet spent the remainder of the afternoon together. Hermione found herself laughing at Walden’s jokes, enjoying the company of Andromeda, and looking upon Lucius more fondly than she could have ever imagined. By the time the day was over, she accepted that these people were in her life no matter what. She may not like Walden Macnair because of his involvement with the Buckbeak incident during her third year, but she was willing to overlook that due to his employment with the Ministry of Magic at the time. Even she had to admit that a person had to earn a living and his job at the time was as executioner. Buckbeak was deemed dangerous, unjustly so, but he was nonetheless. Walden was just doing his job.

October bled into November and Hermione found herself spending most of her time with Andromeda, Walden, and Lucius. Macnair never paid much attention to her as he only had eyes for the middle Black sister. Lucius, on the other hand, only seemed to have eyes for Hermione. There were times when Narcissa would pass by and make her position known as the future Mrs Malfoy, but Hermione didn’t care. She didn’t feel threatened or jealous.

Well, not really jealous. …or so she kept telling herself.

As November came to an end, Hermione started to feel as if maybe she belonged in this time. Her friendship with Andromeda didn’t feel as forced as some of her friendships in her own time. Spending time with Marjorie, Serendipity, and Liz seemed natural and there were more times than not when she forgot who Avery, Wilkes, and Rabastan were to become.

Margie was incredibly smart where the social mores of pureblood society was concerned. Hermione played up the idea that she wasn’t from the area and used Margie to gain a better understanding of how these Slytherins thought. She learned a great deal about the customs and practices of those she had come to know well. The more she learned, the more she likened pureblood society to that of the Victorian, or even Georgian, era. The more Hermione talked with Margie the more she came to understand how the upper crust of Wizarding Society functioned.

It wasn’t all good things that she learned. While Margie explained the place of the woman in what was most certainly a male-driven society, she also divulged, albeit inadvertently, that there were a lot of laws still on the scrolls that dictated not only a woman’s place in the world, but also the superiority of someone with at least four generations of magical blood. As Hermione was learning, the entire legal and governmental systems were geared toward the purebloods, rather than the muggleborns or even half-bloods. Hermione made a mental note to check into those laws when she got back to her own time, because in her opinion, that was just not right.

Serendipity, though very aloof at first, turned out to be a lot like Luna Lovegood without the belief in crazy creatures. Serendipity was very happy go lucky, really personifying the pureblood doctrine that women should be seen and not heard. When she did speak, her voice was light, airy, and almost wistful. To her, Hogwarts wasn’t a place to learn, but rather a place to expand her social circle. Marks were secondary and while Hermione thought it ridiculous to attend classes and not put forth effort, even she had to respect that there was a good chance Serendipity would need nothing she learned at school. Her life was set for her, her marriage to some wizard Hermione had never heard of was assured, and Serendipity would spend the rest of her life shopping and planning tea parties.

Liz was a kindred spirit for Hermione. The two shared a passion for learning and for the written word and were often found revising together. The girls had an easy friendship, both utilizing a witty sense of humour and often telling jokes that very few people understood. They also enjoyed discussing the current groundbreaking magical discoveries, with Liz theorizing the possible implications and Hermione attempting to discuss while not divulging too much information on the future.

As for the men of Slytherin house, Hermione tried her best to stay away from them, most often to no avail. Rabastan Lestrange still started every Potions class calling her Mione, but she still refused to respond. It was only when he would address her by her proper name that she would acknowledge him. Avery and Wilkes were around as well, but she only had limited interactions with them and only when Lucius was around. There were others, too, who were most certainly Death Eaters in her time that she did everything in her power to steer clear of. If the question was raised as to why she wasn’t more social, all she had to do was remind everyone that she was schooled differently back in Paris and wanted to study extra hard in order to not fall behind here at Hogwarts.

The only man she couldn’t stay away from was Lucius Malfoy. He was in almost all of her classes, and it seemed as if every time she turned around outside of a classroom, he was there. She’d tried on numerous occasions to lose him in the halls and succeeded in sequestering herself away in the Room of Requirement a few times. However, that only lasted less than two weeks before he covertly followed her and entered the room before it closed off behind her.

It wasn’t too bad, she’d discovered, allowing herself to study with Lucius. He was smart, incredibly so, and unlike his son, he actually applied himself to his studies rather than devoting his energies to belittling those from other Houses. They would often retreat to what she called their study room on the seventh floor and not only revise, but also get to know each other. The two would share jokes with each other, laughing over something dumb that Rabastan had done, or a non-lethal accident in Potions. They would commiserate about difficult assignments. Sometimes they would work in silence, other nights they would be loudly bouncing ideas off of each other, arguing the merits or pitfalls of this type of magic or another. It was an arrangement that Hermione couldn’t have ever possibly had imagined would work, but it did.

She was shocked to discover that she was coming to really enjoy his company as much as his little quirks. When he was thinking particularly hard or reading a difficult text, his brows would crease ever so slightly and his eyes would narrow as he concentrated. As he wrote out his essays, he would often pause and run the tip of his quill along his jaw as he reread what he’d written. If he was studying something he really enjoyed, he would lean back in his seat and smile a little.

What Hermione found she liked the most was when he was ready to really get to work, he would loosen his tie, take off his outer robes, and roll up his sleeves. It was in those moments when he ceased to be Lucius Malfoy the Death Eater and just became Lucius. She could see his innocence then, his youth, and his unmarked left forearm. He applied himself to his school work as she imagined he would apply himself to his business ventures later in his life. The shrewd businessman came out and it was easy to see how his family amassed such a fortune. From what she knew of in her time, it was the investments of the Malfoy patriarch that had nearly tripled the already vast family fortunes. The investments made by one Lucius Malfoy.

It was during one such study session that Hermione abandoned her revision and spent the better part of ten minutes not so subtly observing her study partner. He was working on some Arithmancy equations and was obviously highly involved and enjoying himself. His robes had come off almost the second they’d walked through the door to the Room of Requirement. His tie quickly followed and before he was seated, his sleeves were rolled up above his elbows. As she watched him reason out the problems on parchment, she noticed the slight brushing of his quill along his jaw. Though his eyes were narrowed in concentration, there was a small smile playing about his mouth. She noticed his fingers flexing a bit, a surefire sign that he’d worked out whatever it was he was working on and was preparing to mark it down.

Hermione sat back in shock. How was it possible that she’d gotten to know him so well? No sooner had his fingers twitched before his hand was moving to the parchment. She knew his expressions, this man who was thought to be carved from stone. She could predict his moves by the subtle gestures he made. It wasn’t just the flex of a finger. Hermione knew when he was holding something back, when he was preparing to speak, even when he thought something was funny but found it improper to laugh. She knew when he was upset, when he was tired, when he was pleased.

She knew that he was looking at her.

‘A Sickle for your thoughts?’

Her mind was a whirl of thoughts and questions, but only one thing escaped through her lips. ‘How did this happen?’ At his confused look, she continued. ‘How is it that I’ve come to know you so well? How did it happen? After everything I’ve done, everything I know, I’ve still managed to become friends with you! How?’

Lucius put down his quill and stood, sliding his chair over to sit next to Hermione. ‘When you’re tired,’ he began, ‘you rub your legs and complain that you’re cold. When you’re sad, you revise more and shut yourself off from everyone else. When a professor begins to ask a question, I can always tell the exact moment you figure out the answer because your eyebrows go up just the slightest bit. At meal times, you always run your fingers through your hair when you’re finished eating.’

He scooted forward on his chair, bringing himself closer to her. ‘When you’re happy, your eyes twinkle more than the brightest stars in the night sky. Though you smile a lot, the only people you’ve really smiled for are Liz and myself. Even Andromeda doesn’t hold that distinction. Sometimes you’ll say that you don’t want to talk, but your eyes plead for me to force you and so I do.’

Hermione was beside herself with surprise. It would appear that he had been watching her just as closely as she was watching him. She wondered what else he knew about her and then became a bit unsettled when she realized his proximity to her. Licking her lips, she began to wring her hands in her lap, but he reached out and stopped her.

‘When you’re nervous, you will fidget with your hands. Sometimes, if you’re particularly bothered, you will lick your lips as you’ve just done. But this… This look on your face right now… I’ve never seen it before.’

Before Hermione had a chance to ponder her expression, Lucius had moved in closer. His left hand was cupping her face as he brought his lips to hers. The kiss was hesitant, something that she wouldn’t have expected from him as he always seemed so sure of himself.

‘You’re thinking too much, Hermione.’

Then his hand was in her hair and his lips were more insistent upon hers. His kiss was passionate and yet surprisingly chaste. It was a simple movement of lips against lips. When he brought his mouth back to hers, she took a chance and acted impulsively. Hermione brought her tongue to the seam of his mouth only to discover that he’d chosen to do the same. The kiss turned intense for a few moments before his grip on her lessened and he backed off a little. She realized that he was giving her an option, letting her get away from him if she wanted to. Though his left hand was still tangled in her hair, he wasn’t holding her there.

They’d broken the kiss and for a moment, neither said anything. They were content to lean their foreheads against the other's while their breath mingled between them. Though he’d basically told her to stop thinking, her mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions. At the forefront was the knowledge that the only other boy she’d kissed was Viktor Krum during her fourth year, and it had been NOTHING like what had just happened to her. Viktor had been sweet, almost passive in his interactions with her, and while he’d kissed her, neither had ever used their tongues. She had liked kissing Viktor, but kissing Lucius was completely different. It was…amazing

‘We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks,’ he said, breaking her from her mental trance before kissing her lightly again. ‘I’ve tried to stay away from you, to keep things strictly platonic, but it would appear that I cannot.’

He kissed her again, full on the mouth, and she gave herself over to it. They kissed for another minute before breaking apart. She looked up at him with hooded eyes and flushed cheeks, her lips slightly swollen from his kiss.

Lucius spoke softly. ‘We’ve been at this for far too long. It’s time to stop pretending we’re only friends. Do not play games with me any longer, Hermione.’

Her eyes flew open. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her head. Do not play games with us, Potter. His own words echoed back inside her head, words spoken many months ago while she was in the Ministry of Magic with her friends. They were trying to save someone and instead were met by the enemy. The Death Eaters.

Lucius Malfoy.

How had she allowed herself to forget who she was with? Who he was? She looked into his crystalline blue eyes and saw no hatred or malice, only confusion. Fortunately for Hermione, she was spared any sort of immediate questioning by the soft chime of the clock in the room. Temporarily distracted by the knowledge that they were now out past curfew, Hermione and Lucius gathered their things quickly and left the Room of Requirement.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER NINE

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was a quiet one. A few times, they had to duck into an alcove or behind a few suits of armor in order to avoid being found out by a Prefect or a wandering professor. When they finally returned to the confines of Slytherin House, Hermione was immediately swarmed by Andromeda, Liz, and the other witches in her year, while Lucius was beckoned over to the sixth and seventh year boys who had taken up a nightly residence in one of the corners of the common room.

‘Having a bit of fun with Lucius, Hermione?’ teased Andromeda. ‘You look well and truly snogged!’

Hermione immediately went on the defensive, trying to deny any insinuations that she and Lucius had done anything more than kiss, while attempting to downplay even that. She rambled on for almost a full thirty seconds before she realized her friends were simply having a go. Then she turned bright red and laughed with the group. Conversation quickly turned to the notice that appeared on the announcement board that day. There would be another Hogsmeade visit a week before Christmas hols. The girls stayed up for another half hour or so planning out their visit before deciding it was a discussion that could wait until breakfast the next morning.

After changing into her night clothes, Hermione laid in her bed thinking about the time spent with Lucius Malfoy alone in the Room of Requirement. She knew that it was against her better judgment to allow him to be alone with her, but nothing untoward had occurred before tonight. If she were being honest with herself, his actions weren’t exactly unwelcome. She could have stopped him if she’d wanted to. He’d given her plenty of opportunity to pull away, to end his attentions, but she’d been enjoying it. Now she would just have to come to terms with her attraction to him…

When had it started, she wondered. Sure, even before when she was younger and he was an adult there was no denying he was an attractive man. He was a fit man, his robes only serving to accentuate his toned form. He cut an impressive figure no matter where he went. When Lucius Malfoy entered a room, all eyes focused on him. His own eyes were cold and grey, but they were like molten pools of silver that always seemed to be hiding a great secret that only he knew. The few times she’d met his eyes in her past, it had always felt…

Was it possible? Could he have been remembering her from his youth, even when she was not yet as old as he would have remembered her to be? She’d always presumed that the knowing and angry look in his eyes was due to Draco’s derogatory comments about her while he was home. After all, she did best him in every class. Her. A lowly Mudblood. Could it really be that he recognized her from his youth? From now?

She’d made too much of an impression on him. The realization struck her like a bludger to the gut and the breath flew from her lungs. Hermione knew a moment of shame when she thought about her friends back home and what they would think if they not only knew of her being placed in Slytherin, but most especially of her kiss with Malfoy’s father. Her lips tingled at the memory, causing her to heave a resigned sigh. There was nothing she could do about the kiss. It happened, it was done, and strangely enough, she didn’t feel any regret. Pulling her pillow out from under her head, Hermione brought it down over her face and groaned into it. Then she replaced the pillow to its proper location, pulled the blankets up, and closed her eyes.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

Her heart was racing when she woke up. Images of the Department of Mysteries had haunted her dreams as hooded figures in masks chased after her. The darkness in her room did nothing to calm her frazzled nerves, so she grabbed her current-for-the-time copy of Hogwarts: A History, drew the curtains around her four poster, and read with the assistance of a Lumos charm. It was interesting to her to read little pieces of information that were no longer considered important enough to remain in the book in her time. There was mention of classrooms no longer used, staircases that no longer existed, and Hermione drifted back off to sleep pondering the structural changes of the castle.

When she woke again, there were only thirty minutes left of breakfast time. She bounded out of bed, dropping her book onto the floor, and raced to dress and be presentable in front of people. After brushing her teeth and hair, she ran from the dungeons and made it up to the Great Hall with ten minutes to spare. She felt Lucius’ eyes on her as she scurried to a space by Andromeda and fell forcefully onto the bench. She then mumbled apologies as she transferred some toast and eggs onto her plate and proceeded to devour them. It was convenient, really, because hastily eating breakfast allowed her to avoid the probing questions and knowing looks coming from her female housemates.

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have any excuse during the walk from breakfast, or any other time one of the girls would catch her outside of class. It was all she could do to stop her friends taking the mickey.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

The final full week of classes before Christmas was upon them. The castle was abuzz, and the students and staff alike seemed to be enjoying the excitement that built up just prior to a break from school. There were still classes to attend, exams to take, and revision to do, but that didn’t stop the general merriment that could be felt wherever you went. Hermione and Lucius, sharing an almost identical schedule, were forced together constantly…not that she really minded much. For all her self-flagellation in regards to the blond in question, she couldn’t deny the way he made her feel, both mentally and physically. She just wasn’t ready to admit it verbally…to anyone, not even herself.

Everyone knew. Hermione knew they did. She could tell by the knowing looks from Serendipity, the way Rabastan was extra flirtatious only when Lucius was around, and from Liz’s not-so-subtle comments about how perfect of a match she and Lucius were. It was a shame, Liz would say, that he was already bound to the blonde Black sister. Therefore, it was of no surprise to anyone when Lucius and Hermione were found exploring Hogsmeade together. The pair was seen in Tomes and Scrolls, Scrivenshaft’s, and Honeydukes before heading over to Three Broomsticks for a spot of lunch. They walked closely down the street, their hands often touching, but not actually holding each other’s hand. When they sat to eat, they sat next to each other rather than across from one another. During the meal, they discussed the year so far, but when the pudding came, Lucius asked the question that Hermione knew had been eating at him all day.

‘So what are your plans for the Christmas Hols?’ Lucius asked her.

Hermione took a deep drink from her butterbeer and answered. ‘I’m heading back to France to visit my mum,’ she lied. She saw his face fall ever so slightly and suddenly felt shame at her deception.

‘That makes sense. When will you return?’

She frowned slightly. ‘Not until the day before classes resume. Why do you ask? What will you do over break?’

‘I have a lot of familial obligations to attend to, but I was really hoping to see you at some point. The Manor hosts a large Yule gala, and I understand if you can’t attend, but perhaps Boxing Day?’

Hermione smiled sadly at him. He appeared so earnest and she hated to see him hurt. Despite who he was in his future, her past had no bearing on who he was now…and she really rather fancied the man she was getting to know better and better with each passing day. She let him down as nicely as she could and the two finished their afters with light conversation.

While they’d been eating, a heavy snow had begun to fall and accumulate, making the walk back to Hogwarts appear as more of a winter wonderland rather than a simple path between the village and the school. Even the castle itself looked even more magical in the distance, dusted as it was with the falling flakes. There were also no coy hand brushes; Lucius took her hand to help her up from their table in Hogsmeade and didn’t let go once on the trek back. As they drew closer to the castle gates, they slowed their pace, trying to prolong their time together. Conversation between them had completely ceased in favor of quick glances and shy smiles. Knowing their time was limited, Lucius pulled Hermione along the walled perimeter of the grounds and behind a copse of tall bushes. He backed her up against the cold stone wall and leaned in close.

‘I’m going to miss you.’

‘Strangely enough, I’m going to miss you, too,’ she replied.

‘”Strangely enough?” Why do you say that?’

She hadn’t been thinking when she spoke, only feeling, and she decided to speak the truth. ‘It is strange. I didn’t expect to meet anyone here. I thought I’d just keep to myself and get through. Never once did it cross my mind that I’d…’ She paused and then met his eyes and spoke again. ‘You’ve taken me completely by surprise, Lucius Malfoy.’

Feeling rather than thinking, she raised her face to his and met his lips with her own. This time, she knew exactly who she was kissing and had resolved to live in the moment and follow her feelings. She would deal with the repercussions later. Her lips were tentative, as were his, but after only a moment, she felt the tip of his tongue at the seam of her mouth. Throwing caution to the wind, she brought her arms up to pull him close and parted her lips to allow his tongue entrance. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest as he deepened the kiss. They were locked in their embrace for what felt like an eternity, but were too soon brought out of their haze by the sound of passing students. After a few lingering pecks, they parted and shared a secret smile. Then they left their sanctuary and resumed their journey back to the castle.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

‘Cockroach Clusters.’

Hermione spoke the password to the headmaster’s office and waited as the stone gargoyle moved aside to reveal the spiral staircase that would lead her up to her meeting. She had been sitting at the breakfast table in the Great Hall when Professor Dumbledore had asked to see her in his office as soon as she was finished eating. It was the day before students were to return to Hogwarts and she was happy to be roaming the castle freely. To preserve the illusion that she had left the country, Hermione had been essentially quarantined in an unused professor’s quarters in the castle. She was to remain there as much as possible, taking all of her meals in her rooms and only exiting under a Disillusionment charm that Dumbledore himself had cast. They were taking no chances.

‘Ah! Miss Granger, how was your breakfast?’

‘Amazing! It was great to eat with other people again.’

‘Yes,’ Dumbledore agreed. ‘I’d imagine someone of your age is unaccustomed to dining alone. But I didn’t summon you here to discuss your social habits. I have an update on your situation and thought perhaps we could discuss it over a nice cup of tea.’

She followed her headmaster into a small alcove that was already set up with a tea service for two. Though she had just finished breakfast not twenty minutes before, she graciously accepted the drink and biscuits. Almost as soon as he’d finished preparing his tea, Dumbledore spoke.

‘There is no easy way of saying this, so I shall be blunt. The Ministry has been seeking out ways to bring you forward to your own time and –‘

‘Pardon my interruption, Professor, but why can’t I just use a Time Turner to go forward? I’ve been thinking about it, since that’s how I found myself here in the first place. Why don’t they just give me one to send me home? This all could have been avoided if –‘

‘Miss Granger, if that were at all possible, don’t you think they would have just done that in the first place, rather than to call me in and make arrangements for you?’ He paused long enough to see that she understood, and then continued. ‘All attempts in the past to bring someone more than an hour into the future have resulted in grave peril for the traveler. Therefore, as I’ve said, the wizards and witches in the Department of Mysteries have been searching new magic in order to solve your problem.’

She didn’t need him to continue to know where he was headed with his speech. ‘They’ve been unsuccessful, right? That’s what you’re trying to tell me?’

After his confirmation of her thoughts, the two discussed their own ideas on how to rectify her situation, all while enjoying their tea and biscuits. They sat together for almost a full hour before Dumbledore excused her.

‘Just remember, Miss Granger. There’s always a choice. You seem to have made yourself at home here. Would it really be so bad to stay with your new friends? Your new love?’

He refused to hear any more comments from her, saying that he had many important things to do before the beginning of the new term. So Hermione left his office and made her way back to the dungeons, albeit slowly. While their conversation had been a stimulating one, the only part that replayed over and over in her mind was his parting shot to her. Had she really made a home for herself here? The new friends weren’t to be denied, and she almost couldn’t imagine returning to a place where they weren’t. Sure, she had Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and others, but it wasn’t the same. They weren’t the same. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, it was much harder to be herself around her old friends. It didn’t stop her from being herself, but with her new crowd, they wouldn’t take the mickey if she became all intellectual or decided she would rather study than play Exploding Snap.

Without realizing it, her feet had carried her down to the Slytherin common room. This, too, was a sign that showed maybe Dumbledore was right and she was becoming comfortable here. Even as recently as a few weeks ago, her idle wanderings would carry her to Gryffindor Tower rather than down to the dungeons. The green hue of the common room felt as welcoming to her as her parents’ house. The thought was a bit jolting, but it was swiftly driven from her mind by the gaggle of voices that assaulted her ears upon returning to Slytherin house. Seeing her friends again, her new friends, brought a smile to her face. She happily went to sit with Serendipity and Liz. While Serendipity was regaling the girls with tales of various Christmas gatherings, Margie and Andromeda found their way back into the common room and immediately joined in the conversation. Fortunately for Hermione, none of the girls were all that interested in what she had done over the holiday, but she knew that wouldn’t last. Eventually they would ask and she would be forced to come up with some new lies. Just as her mind began contemplating all her options, the common room door opened once again and admitted the one person she’d been most longing to see. The one Dumbledore had alluded to.

Her love. Lucius Malfoy.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TEN

She knew that her friends were sharing knowing glances beside her, but Hermione only had eyes for Lucius. She wanted so badly to go to him, but almost as soon as he walked in, he was surrounded by his usual group of mates. His eyes found hers and butterflies exploded in her stomach. His gaze softened and the left corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly at the sight of her. It was the first time he’d smiled at her like that in the presence of others. A second later, she experienced a moment of pure euphoria when he excused himself from his friends, crossed the space between them, and drew her into his arms. Though he didn’t kiss her, the silence between them spoke more than any kiss could.

The feel of his arms around her was better than she’d remembered. Before she could fully enjoy the moment, it was over. A not-so-subtle clearing of a throat pulled them from their embrace. Lucius stared down at her, a promise in his eyes, before turning to walk to the hearth with his mates. Hermione took the look for what it truly meant; they would talk later. She smiled at him and went back to retake her seat between Liz and Andromeda. The girls had apparently exhausted their stories of their holiday adventures and turned to Hermione.

‘So,’ began Andromeda, ‘how was your holiday? You went back to France, right?’

Hermione had been thinking about this for a while, even having Dumbledore offer to help concoct a plausible story for her Christmas hols, but in the end, she knew that she would once again stay close to the truth. During her last Christmas break, she actually had gone to France with her family. They’d visited family, gone skiing and ice skating, and gone to midnight mass. While she’d left that last bit out while talking to the Slytherin girls, she regaled them with funny anecdotes from family meals and gatherings. The conversations continued over dinner, a great feast to celebrate the return to school, with the girls discussing the gifts they received, the places they went, and the balls they attended.

It was a semi-quiet walk back down to the dungeons, students feeling tired from the day of travel and full from the return feast in the Great Hall. Polite conversation was maintained in the common room, but one by one, the space cleared out as people headed off to bed. Before long, Hermione found herself sitting alone in the common with Andromeda Tonks.

‘You need to be careful,’ Andromeda began. At Hermione’s confused look, she continued. ‘I know how you feel about Lucius. Hell, the whole of Slytherin House knows and that can be a real problem for you if people get to talking, which they are.’

‘What are you talking about?’ asked Hermione. ‘Who’s talking and what are they saying?’

‘It’s merely whispers right now, at least here, but at the Malfoy Gala on Christmas Day, you were the topic of many conversations. Lucius was warned to keep his distance, as apparently he’s dangerously close to negating his contract to marry my sister.’

Hermione gasped as the words sunk in. Was that why he didn’t kiss her when he came into the common room? She shook off the thought as soon as it entered her head; he had never kissed her in the presence of others before the break, why would he start now?

Andromeda continued. ‘Abraxas and my father had many heated words, with Father only calming down when he was told that Lucius was only practicing with you so that he would be a better husband for Cissy. But more than that…’

She broke off and looked around the common room a few times before turning to Hermione and lowering her voice. ‘Do you know what kind of family Lucius comes from?’ she asked.

‘A Pureblood family. One of the oldest, if I can remember correctly.’

‘More importantly, his father is in the Inner Circle.’

Hermione stared blankly at Andromeda, hoping that the phrase would be better explained. Andromeda, for her part, stared back intensely. There was fear written all over her face, and Hermione knew. Of course Abraxas Malfoy would be one of Voldemort’s closest advisors, if that’s what they were. Either way, Hermione knew that the Malfoy’s were deep in the Dark Lord’s ranks.

‘You’re not a Pureblood, are you?’

The question seemed to come out of nowhere, and Hermione was so shocked by it, she reflexively answered with the truth.

‘No one can know,’ Hermione said. ‘It would ruin me in this House.’

‘I’ll keep your secret if you can keep mine.’ It was then that Andromeda revealed her budding relationship with Ted Tonks. She told Hermione about how he was a Muggleborn and that her family would most likely kill her, or him, or both, if they ever learned of them. It took a full ten minutes for Hermione to convince her friend that her secret was safe.

‘I think I’ve seen him in the halls,’ Hermione told her. ‘He’s handsome! Are you two serious?’

Andromeda smiled, her cheeks going a bit pink. ‘I snuck out on Boxing Day and saw him. I knew there was no way the two of us would be able to go the full break without being together.’

Hermione sighed. ‘It was difficult being away from Lucius for so long, I’m not going to lie. But though I missed him, I knew we’d be together again soon enough.’

The shock on Andromeda’s face was only there for a moment, but Hermione saw it. The tone of her voice, though, wasn’t as easy to school as her expression. When Andromeda spoke, it was with both shock and awe. ‘You’re not sleeping together.’

‘I’m not sure I want to sleep with him. I mean,’ she hesitated, knowing deep down that she was lying, both to Andromeda and to herself. Composing herself, Hermione continued, ‘I… I really… I like him a lot… Oh Merlin’s Beard. I more than like him, but I know who he is, who his family is!’ Lowering her voice, Hermione whispered, ‘I’m not who he thinks I am… That’s…’

Andromeda pulled Hermione into her arms and gave her a commiserating hug. The two were both in over their heads, but Hermione knew that only one of them would have a happy ending. There was no way that she and Lucius could have any sort of a romantic future together. Realizing their mutual futility, they held each other in the way friends do and headed off to bed. Tomorrow was another day…

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

Even though she had almost every class with Lucius, and shared a House with him, it was a full week before they were really able to speak to each other. He’d caught her in the corridor outside of the common room and asked if he could speak privately with her. Of course she’d agreed immediately, and he led her up to the seventh floor, pacing in front of a stretch of wall that soon revealed a plain, wooden door. The two went inside the Room of Requirement, which had taken the form of a space similar to the Slytherin Common Room. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Lucius turned and took her into his arms. They stood simply holding each other, breathing each other in, for many minutes before he suggested they sit before the roaring fireplace.

‘I’ve missed you,’ Lucius began, ‘missed this. I wish I could have seen you over the Christmas hols. I wish you could have come to the Christmas Gala, met my parents, seen my home.’

Hermione didn’t know what to say, so she just smiled shyly at him. There was a part of her that would have loved to have gone with him, to have been with him at his home, his party, but she knew that it wasn’t something she would ever do. Their lives were just too different, whether he knew it or not. At the same time, she remembered Andromeda’s words from just that morning. ’Just because someone says you shouldn’t be together doesn’t mean you can’t be together. Just enjoy it while you have it!’ Well, she would try.

‘We’re here now,’ she said, her head falling forward just as the blush spread up her cheeks. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

‘I wish Narcissa would find someone else to fixate on. She was at the Gala and wouldn’t keep her hands off of me. It would be one thing if she were older, but she still seems a child to me.’

Hermione heaved a resigned sigh. ‘You know you’re to marry her, right? Child or not, she will eventually be a woman and bear your heir.’

She had to stop talking. Though she knew the truth in the statement, it surprised her how her throat closed up at her declaration. Narcissa Black may be young, but that wouldn’t always be the case. The Narcissa Hermione knew was a formidable woman, beautiful and powerful in her own right. She looked like perfection standing next to her husband. They were the perfect couple.

Perfect.

Lucius’ hand came up to cup her chin. He brought his mouth to her cheek and kissed away tears she didn’t even realize were falling. Mentally, she shook herself. Why was she so weepy over something that had happened well before she was born? Logically she knew why she was upset, but she still refused to admit how much it hurt knowing that he was destined to be with someone else.

‘Don’t cry,’ Lucius pleaded against her skin. ‘The contract can still be nullified if she finds herself pregnant with someone else’s child. Eventually she will grow out of her youth and realize that there are many options in Slytherin and-‘

‘None like you, though.’

Hermione’s interruption caught them both by surprise. They held each other’s gaze for two heartbeats before slowly moving together. Their lips met in a sensual dance that they were beginning to perfect. Her hands came up to grasp his shoulders. His arms circled her waist, pulling her closer and moving her onto his lap on the loveseat in front of the fire. She gasped at the movement, not expecting him to be so bold.

Leaning his head back, he gazed into her chocolate eyes. ‘It was hell without you over break. I wish you could have been there with me. The only thing that kept me going through all the inane chatter was knowing that I would be coming back here to be with you. You were the star in my black night sky, shining in my memories, and leading me toward a new day.’

He kissed her briefly but passionately before staring deeply into her eyes again. His mouth opened to speak, but Hermione didn’t let him utter more than a brief sound before her mouth was back on his. They kissed deeply, her hands coming around the back of his head to thread through his shoulder length blond locks. She felt him pull her closer with his left arm, which was around her waist, while his right hand traced the line of her neck up into the nape of her hair. Turning her head slightly, their kiss grew in passion and need, Hermione’s mind only registering how amazing it felt to have him holding her, have him beneath her, have him in her arms.

As he drew her impossibly close, she noted two things. The first was that he was solid muscle under his robes. The second was that he was highly aroused. Upon realizing that it was his erection pressing up against the apex of her thighs, she broke the kiss and scooted back a few inches. No words were spoken between them; nothing needed to be said. He half smiled and raised his left eyebrow. She blushed to the roots of her hair. After a moment, he leaned forward and kissed her softly.

That was all it took for her to accept what was happening between them. Andromeda’s notion to enjoy it while she could melded in her mind with the memory of Dumbledore telling her that she was stuck in the past. She would enjoy every second of this reunion with Lucius.

Lucius’s hands were fisting in the hem of her shirt, gathering the material in a way that distinctly told her of his desires. Pulling her mouth from his, she gave him a small smile and allowed him to remove her top. Hermione was surprised how there was no instinctual reaction to cover herself before his hungry gaze.

‘See something you like?’ she joked.

Hermione began to chuckle at her joke, but the sound was swallowed when Lucius’ mouth raised up to meet hers. He held her captive in the kiss for mere moments before she felt him trail his lips along her jaw to the place where it met her neck. Distracted by his teeth nipping her earlobe, she didn’t notice that he’d undone her bra until she felt his fingers on her shoulders, sliding the straps down her arms and bringing them to rest at her elbows.

She pulled back from him then. Hesitation lit her features as he looked at her with lust clear in his eyes. The cups of her bra still covered her breasts as she met his gaze. Slowly, almost timidly, she straightened her arms and allowed the garment to fall from her body, exposing her chest to him fully. He barely gave her a chance to feel insecure about herself. Gripping her waist, he quickly turned them over until she was on her back beneath him.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispered. Lowering his head, he started at her mouth and placed open-mouth kisses down her neck to her chest, all the while grinding himself against the crux of her legs. He took her right breast in his left hand, squeezed it slightly, and began to worry the nipple between his fingers. Just as she was getting used to the foreign sensations, his mouth captured her other breast.

It was almost too much. The pinch from his fingers combined with the pull from his mouth was beginning to elicit responses from other parts of her body. Carding her fingers through his hair, she held his head to her chest as she rode the waves of pleasure that were building inside of her. When he finally had had enough of feasting on her left breast, he released the right from his fingers and brought his lips to it. His hips were moving in long strokes while his tongue was laving the tight bud of her nipple and sucking the entire areola into his mouth.

That was all it took. She inhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes closed as fireworks lit inside of her. It felt as if every muscle in her body had seized up before releasing in concentric pulses originating in her core. Breathy sighs escaped her mouth as Hermione’s orgasm completely overtook her. Her eyes came open when she felt Lucius shudder in her arms, his voice letting out guttural moans against her chest. They held each other for long moments as they came down from their unexpected high.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘I must be crushing you.’ Lucius was the first to speak, rolling off to her left while she chuckled at his comment.

‘That was incredible!’

‘Too right.’

They moved to lay on the floor together before the dying embers in the fireplace. Hermione began to shiver after a few minutes of sated silence. The two sat up and Lucius moved to retrieve her shirt. He stopped short of handing it back to her when he witnessed a blush spread across her skin. Before he could ask what had her so flustered, he realized that her eyes were level with his groin…which was slightly damp with the effects of their mutual enjoyment. He shook his head, handed her the shirt, and went to locate his wand. A quickly muttered incantation had them both cleaned up.

‘I think we should probably head back to the common room,’ Hermione suggested.

Lucius agreed and they left the Room of Requirement together. Before the door to the room even had a chance to fade back into the wall, Lucius reached his left hand out and grasped Hermione’s right. The couple walked in silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other, secret smiles exchanged when they were stuck on moving staircases. When they’d reached the main level of the castle and made to cross outside of the Great Hall, Lucius was stopped by a few of the older students.

Turning to Hermione, he said, ‘I’m sorry, my love, but I really need to speak with them.’

‘I’ll meet you in the common room. Take all the time you need.’

The reality of the afternoon fell onto her as she strolled the hallways down to the dungeons: he’d called her his love. They’d spent an amazing afternoon in the Room of Requirement, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d given her her first real orgasm. She walked into the common room with an infatuated smile on her face. How could she not?

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

January was cold. The snow piled up outside of the castle in near-record amounts, forcing all the usual outdoor lessons to be taught indoors. Even the Herbology greenhouses were too cold for the students. Every meal was served with hot cocoa, and students and staff were often seen roaming the halls with mittens and wool caps on. Inside the Slytherin Common Room, students had taken to magically enlarging the fireplace just to keep warm. It worked rather well until Professor Slughorn caught them at it and put a strong repelling charm around the hearth. No one was able to figure out a way around that, so they moved on to personal warming charms and transfigured blankets.

The beginning of February brought a welcome change of energy to the castle. The snow was beginning to melt enough that Hogsmeade was reopening a lot of its shops. This made it possible for the announcement of a special Hogsmeade visit to take place on a Sunday rather than a Saturday. Of course, the fact that the Sunday in question was the day before Valentine’s Day was not lost on anyone. Boys and girls all over Hogwarts began to express their desires for dates to Hogsmeade. Some were successful, many others were not. The sting of unrequited love was felt throughout the school.

Serendipity cornered Hermione in the corridor outside the Transfiguration classroom on the Tuesday after the Hogsmeade announcement was made. Flanking her on either side were Liz and Margie, both seeming to be chomping at the bit to talk to Hermione.

‘So are you and Lucius going to Hogsmeade together?’ Serendipity inquired.

Margie tutted. ‘You know that it really isn’t proper for her to be seen with him in Hogsmeade on such a day. No offence, Hermione, but he’s betrothed to Andromeda’s sister.’

‘Shove off, Margie,’ Serendipity replied. ‘Just because you can’t go to Hogsmeade with Jupiter doesn’t mean that Hermione and Lucius can’t enjoy some time together...’

‘Ha!’ exclaimed Galerius Avery as he passed them by in the hall. ‘I knew you fancied Wilkes! I’m going to tell him!’

Avery took off down the corridor with Margie hot on his heels, threatening to hex him within an inch of his life if he said anything. Serendipity ran after them, hoping to temper Margie’s anger should she get her hands on Avery. Liz, for her part, stood next to Hermione for a moment longer, sharing a laugh over Margie’s embarrassment. Then she, too, walked away as Hermione started in the opposite direction. That was when she ran into Andromeda.

‘So are you and Lucius going to Hogsmeade together?’

Hermione chuckled. ‘Serendipity just asked me the exact same question. I haven’t the foggiest. We haven’t had a chance to discuss it. Any time we’re together for more than a few moments, it seems as if a beacon is set off and those seventh year boys come calling on him. They’re monopolizing his time and it’s really grating on me.’

The two girls walked on for a bit, talking animatedly about the shops they were hoping to visit and the things they’d like to restock when given the chance. Hermione was looking forward to getting some licorice wands and Andromeda truly couldn’t wait to purchase some more sherbet lemons. It wasn’t until she found herself in an often disused corridor that Hermione realized there might be more to her conversation with Andromeda than she’d originally thought.

‘Ted asked me to Hogsmeade,’ she began after ensuring they were alone.

‘Are you going to accept?’ came Hermione’s questioning reply.

‘How can I? You know of my family. You know what they would do if I openly courted a Muggleborn!’

‘Oh come on. The worst they’d probably do is blast you off of the ta-‘

Hermione’s throat constricted and her breathing became labored. Her head began to throb and her heart raced. Leaning against the wall, she tried her hardest to catch her breath and calm her palpitations, but to no end. She collapsed onto the floor and woke shortly thereafter in the Hospital Wing. Opening her eyes, she caught sight of Rabastan and Andromeda at her bedside.

‘Oh Merlin, Hermione,’ Andromeda cried. ‘What happened?’

‘Yeah, ‘Mione. You gave us quite the scare!’ Rabastan chuckled when Hermione swatted halfheartedly in his direction, knowing that he would get a reaction from her over using that nickname she so despised.

Before she had the chance to answer, Madam Pomfrey scuttled up to her bed and began checking on her. The mediwitch’s wand glowed many different colors as it swept over Hermione’s body. Then it began beeping in a steady rhythm when held over her chest.

‘That’s you, my dear. All patched up and set to rights. I believe your friends here are to accompany you back to your common room. Make sure you get plenty of rest and take it easy for the remainder of the day.’

With those words, the mediwitch left her charge to gather her things. Then the three students began the trek back to the Slytherin Common Room.

Hermione looked around, trying not to be too conspicuous in her search. Rabastan, however, knew where her thoughts were.

‘Lucius had an important meeting he needed to attend. He wanted to be here, almost ran out on…well… Anyway, he said as soon as he’s finished, he will be by your side.

Andromeda tried to ask what happened to Hermione, but the line of questioning was quickly shot down when the witch in question began talking about womanly issues. Rabastan, not wanting anything to do with such conversation, started talking loudly over the two women. They laughed a bit about it, but Hermione promised to explain later when they were alone. Of course, the conversation would be lies, but at this point Hermione didn’t care. She was concerned about Lucius and what sort of meeting he would be having that he couldn’t get out of. He usually told her when he needed to meet with teachers about something, but this…

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

Valentine’s weekend was upon them. Lucius had been with her in class and at meals, but time in the common room was spent mostly with her girlfriends. He was there; she could clearly see him in the room, but he was more often than not ensconced in a corner with a group of older boys. Hermione knew in her mind that these boys would grow to become Death Eaters, but she also knew that Lucius was not yet one of them. Not really. Often in class, or in the rare moments when the two would work together on revision, he would roll up his sleeves, revealing the smooth alabaster of his as-of-yet untainted forearms.

She loved watching him work, seeing him dedicate himself to furthering his knowledge rather than striving toward the elimination of all those with less-than-pure blood. Daydreams would often assail her, at the most inopportune moments, of those arms wrapped around her. Of those hands fisting in her hair as he kissed her. Of those fingers bringing her such pleasure. They’d met a few more times since their post-hols reunion of sorts, and each time they’d gone a little farther in their explorations of each other. Hermione was hoping that, with the majority of students going to Hogsmeade, they’d be able to sneak off together somewhere and have a good snog…or something.

Saturday evening, the night before Hogsmeade, Hermione was sitting with Liz and Margie in the common room. They were discussing their plans for the next day when they turned the conversation to her.

‘So, Hermione,’ began Liz. ‘Are you going to Hogsmeade with Lucius?’

Hermione laughed. ‘Why does everyone keep asking me that?’

‘Well, you and he are pretty much inseparable,’ came Margie’s answer.

‘Yes, well… We really haven’t discussed it. I mean, I know that I want to meet him there and at least spend some time, but he’s been so busy with those other guys that we really haven’t had the chance to…’

Hermione’s voice trailed off as her eyes traveled across the room to where Lucius sat with the same group of boys as usual. This time, she was surprised to notice that Jupiter Wilkes and Galerius Avery were sat with them. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the girls.

‘We haven’t talked about it,’ she finished sadly.

The girls continued to discuss their plans, being joined by Andromeda and Serendipity after a time. They talked as the hour grew late and the younger students went off to bed. First and second years went to their dorms grumbling over another trip they were too young to enjoy. Third, fourth, and fifth years held a giddy excitement that could only be caused by the prospect of young love. The five witches were battling against yawns when they finally gave up and headed toward the stairs. It was only when Hermione lingered behind a few steps that Andromeda pulled her aside and bade the others a good night.

Hidden mostly in shadows, Hermione stared toward the corner where the group of sixth and seventh year boys sat speaking in hushed tones.

‘You know he’ll be there tomorrow, Hermione.’

She sighed. ‘I know. I was just hoping to make some sort of plan before then.’

‘You’ll catch him in the morning at breakfast. Now come on. Off you pop. Won’t do to look a fright for your wizard on the most romantic day of the year.’

‘But Valentine’s Day isn’t until Monday!’ Hermione joked. The girls laughed a bit, Andromeda teasingly swatting Hermione on the arm, and the girls walked together to their dorm.

Lucius wasn’t at breakfast the next morning. Neither were any of the other boys who were huddled together the night before. Serendipity took Hermione by the hand and led her to the middle of the Slytherin table where a group of sixth and seventh year girls were already seated. None of the others thought too much of the missing boys, as it apparently wasn’t uncommon for Slytherin boys to go ahead into Hogsmeade in order to properly prepare for their dates. Hermione was told that it was part of the courting ritual in a sense. There were specialty stores set back from the main road where pureblooded wizards could procure more expensive baubles for their dates. The men could also have their robes altered for the day to showcase their wealth and standing in society. The entire concept boggled Hermione’s mind, but she had long since accepted that there were many trappings in pureblood society that she would never understand.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to Lucius’s disappearance. The logical part of her brain knew that he wouldn’t have gone ahead to prepare some grand gesture for her, nor would he buy her anything pricey. To do so would jeopardize his contract to marry Narcissa Black. When she and the others finally made it to the village, her stomach was upset. Trying to keep upbeat for her friends, she followed the group into the various shops. She ooh’d and aah’d over their purchases at the clothier, laughed with them at the joke shop, and tasted some new sweets at Honeydukes, all the while scouring the streets and storefronts for a certain blond wizard. When lunchtime came, the girls were met by a small group of boys. Pleasantries were exchanged, gifts were given, and the whole time all Hermione could do was look around for Lucius.

Rabastan noticed her wandering eyes. ‘I know he’s around,’ he said. ‘Just saw him a few minutes ago.’ The other boys agreed with him, some even mumbling something about keeping up appearances with Narcissa, but one thing was certain: none of them were looking directly at her.

Lunch wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but Hermione couldn’t help feeling a bit like the third wheel. All around her, couples were enjoying the company of their significant others. They ate, drank their butterbeer, and enjoyed lengthy conversation about everything and nothing all at once. At the beginning, Hermione’s eyes would dart toward the door every time she heard it open, but after about a half hour of this, she gave it up as a bad job. Her friends tried to assure her that Lucius would be around shortly, that he was probably just taking more time than necessary with Narcissa in order to keep the marriage contract, but she couldn’t help feeling it was a lie.

When the meals were cleared and the pudding was served, Narcissa Black entered The Three Broomsticks. Hermione looked hopefully behind her for a certain wizard, but none were to be found. The witch arrived with her own cavalcade of female friends. As they passed, Hermione overheard Narcissa complaining about the lack of any sort of acknowledgement from her betrothed. She knew the younger (older? She was so confused.) witch kept going on, but her mind tuned the talk out while her heart dropped into her stomach. Where was he?

Hermione spent the next two hours walking with her friends but not really engaging with them. She was too busy looking for Lucius. Every store they would enter, every corner they would turn, her eyes would search for that familiar blond hair. After a while, she parted from her friends and made her way back to the castle, worried sick that something had happened. When she got back, Hermione went up to the library under the guise of returning a book and then took the long route back to the dungeons. She passed every known hideaway he had, surreptitiously checked the Hospital wing, and even went so far as to look in the Room of Requirement. He was nowhere.

She didn’t sleep well that night, having not seen him in the common room before bed. The next day, he didn’t show up to any meals or classes. By the time she worked up the nerve to ask Professor Slughorn about Lucius’ whereabouts, she felt as if her stomach were eating itself.

‘Oh, never you mind, dear girl,’ the professor said. ‘I excused him from his classes today. Seems he ate a funny whelk or something down in the village yesterday. Poor lad could barely move this morning.’

Hermione could barely contain herself, forcing her feet to move at a normal pace as she excused herself. It was all she could do to not run through the halls knowing that he was alive and in the castle. She’d spent the better part of the previous day imagining his demise in myriad forms, though the logical side of her mind kept telling her that he had to be alright. By the time she made it to the Slytherin common room, she was giddy with excitement to see him. Her enthusiasm died quickly, as hearing Lucius’s name on Narcissa Black’s lips gave her pause.

‘Oh yes,’ the pureblood witch began, ‘he’s perfectly alright. Should be any day now that I have his grandmother’s ring on my finger, too. After all…’ Her voice trailed off as she left the common room.

Hermione stood stock still just inside the entrance, unable to get her feet to move. Liz approached her and led her almost forcefully over to a sofa in front of the hearth. Once seated, Margie and Liz tried to cheer up Hermione. It was all for naught, though. Reality was once again crashing down around her. Hearing Narcissa mention getting a ring from Lucius awoke the knowledge that no matter how much she was falling for the wizard, he wasn’t hers to have. After a while of sitting numbly with her friends, Hermione got up to head to dinner. She pushed her food around on her plate, berating herself for thinking that she could possibly have a future with a man she knew was married to, and had a child with, another woman. It was just so easy to not see him as the Lucius Malfoy she knew from her time. This Lucius was kind, considerate, friendly, and almost carefree with life. The Lucius from her youth was anything but…at least to her.

Giving up dinner as a bad job, Hermione made her way to her dorm. She was emotionally exhausted and just needed to sleep for a while. When she woke up the next morning, she decided that she was going to begin distancing herself from Lucius. After all, sooner or later she was going to lose him to Narcissa. Sooner or later, she would be headed back to her own time. Sooner or later, he would be a Death Eater.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWELVE

Hermione woke with a start.  She bolted upright in her bed, barely suppressing a scream while bringing her hands to her chest to try and calm her racing heart.  The dream had been a common one: The Department of Mysteries had loomed around her.  Shouts from friends and enemies filled her ears as she ran from the glass orbs raining down around them in the Prophesy Room.  Death Eaters were chasing them, popping up from nowhere at every turn.  She was trying to find an escape but couldn’t.  Just as she had finally reached an exit, a cloaked figure rose up before her, pointing a familiar wand in her face and uttering the words that would end her life.  Like every other time she’d had this dream, she woke up with the image of cold, grey eyes burned into her vision.  They were the eyes of Lucius Malfoy.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get back to sleep.  A quick charm to check the time informed her that it was just past two in the morning.  Knowing that there would be no one in the Common Room, Hermione grabbed her Transfiguration texts and parchments before exiting her dorm and making her way up to sit near the fireplace.  If she was going to be awake, she figured that she may as well do some revision.

The room was not empty, though.  The first thing Hermione noticed was that the fire was still burning quite hot.  After that, her eyes were drawn to a pale figure sitting on the sofa nearest the flames, his head resting in his hands.  The thought to leave him in peace crossed her mind, but she knew that returning to her room would only lead to frustration.  There was no way she would be able to fall asleep.  Instead, she decided to approach him.

‘Mind if I join you?’ she asked.  He didn’t answer, merely sliding a bit more off to one side so that she could occupy the space to his left.  She could tell by his demeanor that this was the only response she was going to get so she sat down and spread her books and papers over the table in front of them and set to work.

Neither spoke.  Lucius was lost in his own mind, giving serious contemplation to something or another, while Hermione wrote out an assignment that wasn’t due for another week.  Every now and then she would sigh deeply before crumbling the parchment she was writing on and sending it flying into the fireplace.  After, her hands would brutally thread through her hair and she would set to work on another sheet, earning herself a curious gaze from her silent companion.  When she had done this for the fifth time, he finally spoke to her.

‘What in Merlin’s name are you doing?’

Hermione jumped a bit, having forgotten that he was there with her.  Once she had caught her breath a bit and realized where she was, she answered him.

‘I’m working on the Transfiguration assignment.’

‘By throwing parchment into the fire?’  Lucius chuckled at her.  ‘We’ve been over this a million times, Hermione.  Whatever you’ve written is more than acceptable.  You’ll still be right behind me at the top of the class.’

She rolled her eyes at him, knowing what he said was true but refusing to admit as much.  They’d had this discussion before and neither was willing to give an inch on their stance: Lucius finding her work exemplary on its first draft and Hermione’s need for perfection.  Looking back over the six inches she had written on her latest draft, she once again found it lacking.  The sound of crumbling parchment filled the air moments before another piece of kindling was added to the fire.

‘You know,’ Lucius began jokingly, ‘the next time I see you do that, I’m going to take you across my knee and spank you.’

‘Ooh, scary.  The big, bad, Death Eater is threatening me,’ she retorted in a mocking tone.  ‘You don’t scare me, Lucius Malfoy.  I know you too well now.’

‘What did you just say?’ he whispered.

Hermione thought for a moment to recall her exact words when the light went on in her head.  She had called him a Death Eater.  Her suspicions were confirmed with the petrified tone of his whispered response, and she quickly moved to cover her tracks.

‘So it’s true then?’  When he didn’t answer, she continued.  ‘You disappeared during the last Hogsmeade visit.  I looked for you all morning hoping that we could go to the Three Broomsticks together, and then all afternoon hoping we could spend some time together, but I never found you.  When you finally emerged from your room a few days later, you were pale as a ghost.  You’re more quiet and secretive than you were before, spending more time with the seventh years than anyone in our year and always talking in hushed tones.  We haven’t really talked in almost two weeks, Lucius.  …you never roll up your sleeves anymore.’

Lucius unconsciously brought his right hand down upon the place where Hermione was now certain the Dark Mark tainted his skin.  He stared at the floor, obviously lost to his thoughts and memories.  Hermione briefly considered getting up and leaving him there on the sofa when his voice broke the silence between them.

‘It’s for the best, you know.  The Dark Lord promises to bring Purebloods back to the position of authority they’ve held for a millennium and to preserve our way of life.  With this mark on my arm, I’ll be able to assist the greatest wizard of all time in his noble pursuit of blood purity.  The filth running the Ministry won’t stand long against his agenda and we will once again be free from the taint of Muggles in our society.’

‘”The taint of Muggles?”  Are you serious?  Some of the smartest students in this school are Muggleborn and Half-Blood.  Are they tainted to you?  Is someone really less of a person simply by nature of their birth?  You can’t help family, Lucius.  You’ve no choice who your parents are, whether Muggle or otherwise.’

‘That may be true,’ he countered, ‘but you can always rise above what you’re born into and take control of your life if given the proper opportunities.  Muggleborns should be taken from their families and raised by witches and wizards, giving up all their Muggle backgrounds and embracing their Wizarding heritage.  Those who choose to remain in contact with their…families…  Well, they shouldn’t be allowed to be a part of our society.  Muggles bring nothing but hatred for our kind.  Hatred and ignorance.  They are needlessly violent and terribly common, so lost in the delusions of their own grandeur simply because they invented automobiles, aeroplanes, and telephones.  We need to be separated from them, don’t you see?  If they knew of our existence, of our abilities, we would never be free.  They would become tyrannical against us, attempting to use us and our magic for their own personal gain!’

‘And taking children, young children, from the only homes they’ve ever known and forcing them to acclimate is better?  What about the Half-Blood children?  Should their parents be forced to divorce, the Muggle parents’ memory erased when they produce magical offspring?’  Lucius made to answer, but Hermione charged ahead.  ‘Besides, you know for a fact that isn’t how all this is going to play out.  The integration of all magical beings isn’t You-Know-Who’s ultimate agenda.  He’s no better than Ado–‘

The moment she felt the slight swelling of her tongue, Hermione knew exactly what she had done.  Her throat constricted, and she almost immediately fell unconscious at the feet of the man she had been arguing with.  Her last thought before the darkness took her was of the Vow she had made back in the Department of Mysteries on the day she had arrived back in this time.

It was hours later when she woke to find herself in the Hospital Wing once again. Professor Dumbledore was at her bedside, a twinkle in his eyes behind half-moon spectacles. She sat up a bit and took a drink of water. Madam Pomfrey came around and fussed over her for a bit before allowing her to return to her dorms. The Headmaster agreed to walk her back, in case she would need assistance. As always though, he had ulterior motives.

‘I’ve some news for you, Miss Granger. It would appear that our friends in the Ministry may have found a way to send you home without altering your physical appearance in any way.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Well,’ he explained, ‘it seems that the Department of Mysteries finally devised a way to move people forward in time. When they attempted to utilize it, thinking they’d worked out all the bits and bugs… Let’s just say it ended poorly. The initial testing seemed to work in small increments of time, but when they tried to bring someone forward more than five years, the physical body reacted with less than desirable results.’

Hermione cringed, thinking about the unfortunate ministry employee who more than likely no longer was of this world. She was silently praying that maybe she was reading too much into the grave tone her professor was using, but she doubted it sincerely.

Dumbledore continued to speak with her about many things and nothing at all while they walked through the main part of the castle, but once they were alone again, he got back on topic. ‘They began to toy with stasis charms while utilizing a Time Turner, and initial testing has been exceedingly promising. However, it will be at least a fortnight before they begin to test it more extensively. If everything continues to go according to plan, you could be returning home within a month.’

He spoke some more, but she was unhearing. One thought kept playing inside of her head: home in a month. Back to Harry. Back to Ron. …back to Lucius hating her simply for the manner of her birth.

The next two weeks went by at a snail’s pace. Sure, Hermione had her girlfriends to keep her company, and she saw Lucius almost everywhere, but while he was physically close, mentally he was a million miles away. He maintained more close contact with the older boys, and after a while, she all but gave up on talking to him outside of class. She didn’t even see him during her regular trips to the common room in the middle of the night. Andromeda could tell that Hermione was becoming depressed and one sunny March afternoon, she attempted to bring some happiness back into Hermione’s life.

‘You know, Hermione, today is the perfect day to go out onto the grounds and soak up some sun. What do you think?’

‘Yeah,’ Hermione replied, noncommittally.

‘Maybe there’s a snowball fight we can get in the middle of!’

Hermione laughed. ‘Or start, you mean?’

The two girls walked out onto the grounds and, sure enough, a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were engaged in what appeared to be an epic battle. There were forts constructed clearly by magical means and students from both Houses working together against each other. This surprised Hermione, as in her time, these friendly fights often took place with the Houses going against each other. Perhaps this was a side effect of many years of blood politics?

She didn’t have long to think on it, though. A snowball came out of nowhere and hit her in the shoulder. Snickering could be heard from the group nearest to her, so she and Andromeda made a beeline for the fort a few meters away. There they joined the fray and had an amazing time battling it out with the other students. More than a few of the snowballs missed their marks, but she still had fun. After a while, she started to get cold from the snow and she and Andromeda bowed out of the competition. The two witches walked back into the school and made their way down to the kitchens. Absconding with a few mugs of hot cocoa and some biscuits, the girls cast warming charms on themselves and went back outside. A walk around the lake was suggested by Andromeda.

‘Ted asked me to Hogsmeade.’ So this was why. ‘I’m sorry, Hermione, but there’s no one else I can talk to about this. If word got out…’

‘I can only imagine,’ Hermione responded carefully. ‘But isn’t this what you want? Does he make you happy?’

‘More than you’ll ever know! He’s amazing! If I could only make my family see how good we are together, how smart and kind he is, surely they could accept him. I mean, he’s not just loving, but he’s so powerful! More powerful than half the purebloods I know! I just…’ Andromeda paused, taking a few breaths and seeming to collect her thoughts. ‘I know they won’t accept him. I know that if I allow this to go past a school fling, they’ll blast me off the tapestry and exile me from the family. They will never allow us to be together, but I’m not certain I really care anymore. I’m falling in love with him! I haven’t told him yet, but I know I am. I can feel it deep down into the core of my magic that we’re meant to be together. We could be so happy…

‘Listen to me,’ Andromeda chuckled. ‘I’m going on like a fool and not letting you get a word in edgewise! How terribly rude of me,’ she finished jokingly.

‘It’s alright. It’s really helping to keep my mind off of my own life.’

Andromeda sighed. ‘Still haven’t really talked to him?’

‘No. I’m not even sure what I’d say at this point. I mean, we talk a bit in class, but nothing of any consequence. Last time we had more than a few moments alone, I accused him of being a Death Eater.’

‘No!’ the other witch gasped, putting a hand to her chest.

‘Not my brightest move, I’ll give you that. But here’s the thing! He didn’t deny it! And when I really confronted him about it, I must have gotten myself too worked up because I fainted before we could finish our discussion.’

By this time, the girls had made their way back toward where the snowball fight had been taking place. They expected to find the fight still raging, but there was only silence. A few students were sat near the abandoned forts, holding each other and wiping tears from their cheeks.

‘What happened?’ Andromeda asked, concern evident in her voice.

‘We’re not sure,’ began a young Ravenclaw girl. ‘One minute we were having fun like usual and the next a barrage of snowballs came flying over toward us. It was mad, but they all converged on a Hufflepuff third year. He was bludgeoned so badly. We couldn’t stop it. We tried, but we couldn’t stop it.’

Tears fell anew from the Ravenclaw’s eyes, and the two Slytherin witches made their way back into the castle in silence, neither fully understanding how something like that could have happened.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Strange things were happening all over the castle. Sure you’d occasionally hear about a student tripping and falling on a set of moving staircases, but not like this. There were rumours of students rolling down multiple sets of stairs, injuries that could only be sustained by malicious hex, pumpkin juice at breakfast poisoning people, and people with no known allergies of any kind suddenly suffering anaphylaxis. There were never any witnesses, nor suspects to these "accidents". No one individual was a suspect, however, it soon came to light that all of the victims were Muggleborn.

Hermione was nervous. Being in Slytherin, she knew she was technically safe from these atrocities that were occurring all over the castle, but being a Muggleborn, she couldn’t help but be scared. Her thoughts were constantly with all those in the hospital wing, and especially those who needed to be transferred out to St Mungo’s for treatment. It was a scary time for everyone. The bright spot for many was the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. In two days’ time, she and her friends would be free from the cold confines of Hogwarts.

The night before Hogsmeade, there was a meeting in the common room. Lucius stood before Slytherin house as a whole and informed them that the Headmaster had set specific rules for the visit the next day. He mentioned that there was a list of guidelines every student needed to follow, including not traveling alone. Then he said that the whole list would be posted on the bulletin board for those who felt the need to see what the rest of the school would be doing. Chuckles came from many of the sixth and seventh year boys, as if they were above the rules of the school. Then Hermione remembered what House she was currently in and who some of her housemates were.

A shudder ran through her at the thought that more than a few of them were probably responsible for the ill fates that have befallen more than a few of her school mates.

The next morning, Hermione, Margie, Liz, and Serendipity made their way toward the gates of the grounds. They were discussing plans for the day, things they wanted to see, and people they wanted to meet up with. When they reached the path to the village, they met up with Andromeda, Jupiter Wilkes, Galerius Avery, and Rabastan Lestrange. Andromeda and Hermione allowed themselves to fall to the back of the group as the rest paired up and walked joyously toward their day of frivolity. Down in the village, a good time was being had by all. Shopkeepers were smiling at the influx of Galleons coming in, students were laughing and celebrating the beginning of some nicer weather, and Hermione was just content to hang back with Andromeda and talk quietly about the boys in their lives…or rather, the boy in Andromeda’s life. Hermione really wasn’t sure what she and Lucius were anymore.

Deciding it was time to eat some lunch, the two witches made their way toward The Three Broomsticks. They were so deep in conversation that they didn’t notice the people running about and trying to get into the establishment until they were almost knocked over by a wizard in violent fuchsia robes. He was yelling something about mediwitches and aurors as he brandished his wand and apparated out of sight with nary a pop. The two girls looked at each other warily before cautiously entering the eatery.

Inside, it was chaos. There were people huddled in the corners and under tables. Chairs were knocked over, some tables completely out of place, and in the midst of it all, three Gryffindor boys lay unresponsive on the floor, eyes open and unseeing. Hermione gasped, throwing her hands over her mouth, unable to take her eyes off of the scene before her. Andromeda spotted their regular group of friends in the corner, so she took hold of Hermione’s shoulders and guided her to them. Once there, Hermione found herself listening to near-silent laughter from those around her.

Anger overtook her. ‘What in Merlin’s name could possibly be funny at a time like this?’ she seethed. ‘Those boys are dead!’

It was Rabastan who answered her. ‘Calm down, Mione. They’ve obviously just consumed Draught of the Living Death,’ he chuckled.

‘I’ve told you repeatedly to NOT call me that, Lestrange. And how in the sodding hell would you know? Did you do this to them?'

But it wasn’t Rabastan who responded. Lucius Malfoy stepped out from behind a few others and turned her attention to him rather than the innocent boy she was arguing with. He took her by the hand and moved them apart from the group.

‘Calm down, love. They’ll be right as rain in no time. Besides, they’re only Mudbloods.'

She recoiled as if he’d physically struck her. Knowing that he was now officially a Death Eater was one thing, but seeing the hate and disdain coming from him was something completely different. This was no longer her friend standing before her, but rather the impenetrable force from her youth, the one who scared her so completely back in the Department of Mysteries all those months ago. This was the man she hated, not the one she thought she might love.

‘Mudbloods?’ she hissed, but her voice quickly rose in volume. ‘MUDBLOODS?!?! They’re PEOPLE, Lucius! They’re STUDENTS!’ She was yelling now, garnering the attention of more than just those in her immediate vicinity. ‘They’re CHILDREN!!! They just wanted to grab a bite to eat! Just like you! Just like me!!! How can you be so cold as to stand here and make light of this?’

‘Come now. It’s just a harmless prank and-‘

‘Harmless? What about all those students back at school? The ones who had to be sent to the hospital wing? Or the ones who had to leave and go to St Mungo’s? Were they just victims of “harmless pranks” as you call them? Or were they “only Mudbloods”, too? Didn’t they fit into your perfect Pureblooded world? You can obviously stand by while people get hurt, but could you stand by and watch someone die? What if this little prank backfired and these boys were really dead? Then what? Would you tell their parents that it’s ok because they’re “only Mudbloods”, Lucius?’

The pub was silent around them as Hermione railed against Lucius. She was screaming at him as he implored her to keep her voice down, but every time he tried to remove her from the establishment or get her to calm, she only got louder. After a few minutes of standing in shock and listening to her yell, Avery finally nudged Lucius and told him to do something about her before someone else did. Pulling his wand, Lucius cast a Silencing charm on Hermione. It took her only a second to realize what he’d done. With tears in her eyes, she swung her right arm through the air and slapped him soundly across his left cheek before running from the pub.

Hermione knew someone was following her as she trudged up the path from the gates of the grounds to the doors of Hogwarts. That same someone had been following her all the way from The Three Broomsticks. Not wanting to be slowed down, she didn’t look behind her. If she was being honest with herself, it was partially from fear that she never stopped to see who it was. She was afraid that it was Lucius trying to find the right thing to say to her, but also afraid that it was someone else and that he had stayed behind, not bothering to follow.

She didn’t really cry on the long walk back up to the school, but there was a steady stream of tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. When she finally made it back to the common room, she was forced to stop and open the portrait. That was when she saw that it was Andromeda who had followed her from Hogsmeade. This was all it took for Hermione to dissolve into a sobbing fit that lasted the better part of a half hour.

‘Shh,’ crooned Andromeda softly. ‘It’s ok. You’re ok. Those boys are ok.’

The two witches just held each other until Hermione calmed enough speak, having been told that Andromeda had reversed the Silencing charm the moment she’d gotten close enough to Hermione to do so. Hermione used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe the tears from her eyes before taking a tissue to blow her nose. The tears were still coming, albeit slower now, but Hermione finally felt calm enough to speak.

‘He doesn’t care. Those boys could have been seriously hurt and he just stood there playing it off as if they deserved it because they’re not the same blood as he is. He doesn’t care… He doesn’t care…’

‘Come on, Hermione. You know how it is with our type of families; blood is everything. If you’re not Pure-‘

‘I’m Muggleborn.’

The confession came out of nowhere, and realizing what she’d said, Hermione expected to soon find herself waking up in the hospital wing as she had before. But nothing happened. She was fine. Chancing a look around, she was happy to discover that they were alone in the common room, but even if they weren’t she was almost certain that she’d whispered the words. No one but Andromeda would have been able to hear them.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? I knew you weren’t a Pureblood, but a Muggleborn? Why didn’t you trust me?'

‘I had to be sure, Andy,’ she replied, adopting the nickname the other witch would use later in life. ‘I had to know that you weren’t a fanatic like the rest. But they can’t know. Oh God, Andy, they can’t know!’

‘Shh. I won’t say anything. After all, you haven’t said anything about Ted, and now I know why.’

The two shared a watery smile and laugh as the entrance to the common room opened and Lucius walked in. He walked up to them looking almost contrite as he asked Hermione to accompany him for a walk. Andromeda stared him down for a moment before taking her cue from Hermione. Holding out his hand, Lucius beckoned Hermione to her feet and the two walked quietly from the common room together.

They walked in silence, Hermione a half step behind Lucius as he led the way through the castle. She expected him to start talking at any second, but he merely followed a well-known path to his destination. Stopping in front of a blank stretch of wall on the seventh floor, Hermione realized that he’d meant to speak with her in private without any chance of being interrupted. The door appeared and the two made their way inside to find a quaint sitting room complete with two cushy armchairs, a small loveseat, and a roaring fire. Not wanting to set the wrong tone, as well as to show her displeasure with Lucius, Hermione moved the loveseat out of the way and pulled the chairs to be facing each other in front of the fire.

They sat. Neither of them said anything; nor were they looking at each other. Hermione didn’t want to be the one to talk first. Besides, it was he that came to her and asked for this discussion. She would wait him out.

It took a few minutes, but finally he spoke.

‘I took the mark on Valentine’s Day, but you know that already,’ he began without taking his eyes off of the fire. ‘I had no choice. My father promised all of his children to the service of the Dark Lord.’

‘All of his… Lucius, do you have siblings?’

‘No. Mother… Pregnancy wasn’t kind to my mother. But rest assured, had any of those pregnancies gone to term, we all would bear the mark of our Lord. Once promised to him, you take up with him or you’re made an example to others. The Cruciatus is no fun, no matter who is casting it, but when the Dark Lord releases his anger onto someone…’ Lucius trailed off, obviously lost in thought.

Just when she was about to prompt him to continue, he spoke again, ‘He was angry with me for seeing you. He saw us together in my thoughts, saw how I wanted to be with you and not the witch chosen for me. He knows nothing of you, mind, so he couldn’t be certain that you weren’t some usurper just after my position and my gold. As if any of that matters to him. That’s what he said, but I could tell it was more that he wants me focused on the cause rather than chasing a skirt. No offense.’

‘None taken. Besides, on your list of offenses, that would rate exceedingly low, if it even made the list.’

‘I am deeply sorry for silencing you this afternoon. Had I not done it, Galerius looked as if he might have stunned you to shut you up. Now, just wait. Before you say anything, you need to realize that appearances need to be kept. The last time we discussed this, you ended up fainting on me and I really don’t fancy having to rush you to the hospital wing again, so keep your seat. I am a Death Eater now. The ones responsible for today’s incident were still in attendance. Would you rather have seen me cursed, or worse?’

‘No. Of course not.’ Hermione sighed, reluctantly understanding where he was coming from. After a moment, she met his eyes. ‘I’m sorry I slapped you.’

Lucius took out his wand and cancelled the glamour he had obviously cast on his cheek. There, in startling contrast to his pale complexion, was a perfect, dark red impression of her hand. Without thinking, and unable to stop herself even if she wanted to, Hermione moved from her seat across from him and closed the distance between them. She kneeled before him and took his face in her hands, examining her handiwork.

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘No, my love. I’m the one who is sorry. I deserved this.’

She was overcome with emotion at his words. He brought his hands up to cup her cheeks as he leaned in to kiss her sweetly on the mouth. She kissed him back, uncaring that her knees were getting sore from the hard floor beneath the carpet she was kneeling on. When she pulled back from him to adjust her position, she caught sight of the Dark Mark on his arm. Getting to her feet, she walked over to the loveseat and put her head in her hands. How did I get here? she wondered to herself. Lucius rose and joined her.

‘I might have to leave soon,’ she began, fight back tears. ‘I can’t go into detail just yet, but my parents are trying to work something out. My time here might be almost over.’

Now it was Lucius’ turn to sigh. ‘Then let’s make the most of it and not fight anymore.’

She nodded and he stood. The hour was getting late and they needed to be heading back to the common room. Sharing one last lingering kiss, they then left the Room of Requirement and walked hand in hand to the Slytherin Common Room.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Lucius and Hermione were rarely apart follow the debacle in Hogsmeade and their subsequent apologies. He still had moments where he was needed with the other…followers… Other than that, though, they were often seen together. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep on with him, especially knowing that the Ministry was close to finding her a way back to her own time, but she couldn’t help it. She was in love with him.

It was now the middle of April and the students were getting anxious for the end of the year. Hermione and Lucius would regularly meet up in the Room of Requirement to do revision, and every couple nights, the two would bump into each other in the common room at all hours of the morning. One night, Hermione and Lucius had just said good night to each other by way of a sweet kiss when she turned and found herself face to face with Narcissa Black.

‘Enjoy him now,’ the blonde witch said to her, ‘because as soon as I graduate, he’s mine. You’re nothing but a fling for him. I’m his future and the mother of his heirs. Not. You.’

And with that, Narcissa flounced off to her own room for bed. That night, Hermione had nightmares about returning to her own time and coming face to face with an adult Lucius who hated her. No, hate wasn’t strong enough of a word for it. He loathed her for tricking him into having feelings for her. For lying to him about where she was from. For being a Mudblood. On more than one occasion, she woke in a cold sweat, a scream on her lips from some curse or another dream-Lucius had attempted to cast on her. Finally, unable to sleep more than a few minutes without waking from a terrifying nightmare, she made her way down to the common room and toward the cabinet where various potions were kept. She took a Dreamless Sleep, checked off the paper so the elves would know to replace it, and made her way back to bed.

The next morning, Professor Dumbledore pulled her aside on her way to breakfast.

‘It will be soon, Miss Granger. A few days at the maximum. Come see me after breakfast.’

She was stunned. A few days? How could that have happened?

All through breakfast, she sat in silence, pondering her next move. Part of her had really begun to wonder if she would ever leave 1972. She was comfortable here with her friends, with Lucius. Pushing her food around on her plate, she thought about exactly how comfortable she’d become. Lucius was a Death Eater, and not just in her time. She’d seen the Dark Mark on his forearm, and just in time too. After the emotion of that day, the fight at The Three Broomsticks, the confession to Andromeda, Lucius’s explanation and subsequent apology, she’d been ready to do more than simply kiss him. That skull and snake on his left arm had the well needed effect of cooling her raging hormones. But now what was she going to do?

When she’d first found herself at Hogwarts again, she’d vowed to make as little an impression as humanly possible. When that failed, she’d simply wanted to fade into the background. She couldn’t even pinpoint when it happened, but she’d engrained herself in this time, with these people. Even her attempts to distance herself from them, from him, had failed spectacularly. Now she was going to go back to a time where he hated her.

The little bit of breakfast she’d eaten threatened to make a sudden reappearance, so Hermione bolted from her seat in the Great Hall and made her way to the closest bathroom. She dry heaved into a toilet for a few minutes before calming herself down. Tears started to fall as she realized that she would be going back into a battle against the very man she’d kissed more often than she’d care to admit. It was no wonder why he hated her! Hell, right now, she hated herself!

After splashing some water on her face and casting a cleansing charm on her mouth, Hermione made her way out of the bathroom and up to the Headmaster’s office. She was mentally berating her own stupidity the entire walk, and when she finally found herself standing before the gargoyle, she realized that she didn’t know the password.

‘Gumdrops. That’s my current password. I’m rather fond of sweets, you know.’

Hermione followed Professor Dumbledore up the spiral staircase and into his office. The portraits of the former headmasters were all snoring lightly, paying no mind to the new occupants of the room. Different colored objects sparkled and twirled and whirled all around the room. Tucked onto a shelf and barely visible, Hermione was certain she spotted a Pensieve. Dumbledore made his way around he rather large desk and bade her to sit before him. After offering her a Peppermint Humbug, which she turned down, he began to speak.

 ‘How are you feeling, my dear? You ran from breakfast with such haste, I feared for your health.’

‘Just stress catching up to me, sir. I’m fine, thank you.’

‘That’s great to hear. Now, just after your exit, an owl arrived from the Ministry. It would appear that they’ve perfected a way to send you home. You’re free to rejoin your friends in your own time whenever you’d like.’

The whole range of emotions played across Hermione’s face as she sat there staring at the wall just over Dumbledore’s left shoulder. She could go home! Back to Harry and Ron and her parents! But she needed to know everything, first. The next hour was spent going over all of the specifics of what would happen when she got to the Ministry. She asked about the process of going forward in time, when she would return to, and how they could ensure that she didn’t end up going back and reappearing on top of someone. Apparently the Department of Mysteries had figured for everything, because they had a rather airtight plan to get her safely back. When it seemed that everything was all worked out, Dumbledore asked if she had any other questions or concerns.

‘What will I tell them?’ she responded after a minute. ‘They’re just as much my friends as those in my own time. How am I going to leave him?’

‘Him? Miss Granger?’

‘Them. How am I going to leave them is what I meant.’

‘Perhaps you don’t have to tell them anything. I can make your excuses for you and you can depart right now. Your friends are in class, so I can have the house-elves pack up your things and store them for you until you return from this place to your own time. You needn’t say a word.’

‘No. I can’t do that. I owe it to him …them… to at least say goodbye. Can I have until tomorrow?’

‘Any time you wish to leave, simply return here to my office and we shall be off. I’ll leave the password as it is today so you will have no issue getting up here.’

Hermione nodded and thanked her professor. Then she bid him farewell and made her way back down to the Slytherin Common Room to gather her things. She would take Professor Dumbledore up on his offer to store her things, but not in the way he would have imagined. Instead, she took her belongings to the Room of Requirement and requested a place to keep her things separate from others until she could return. With that accomplished, she made her way to lunch and rejoined her current friends for one last afternoon of classes.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

She knew that he’d come.  It didn’t matter what she did, how they were getting along, or how much distance she’d tried to put between them, he would still be there.  The Slytherin Common Room in the wee hours of the morning had become their refuge, even more than the Room of Requirement.  It was still strange…not just being in Slytherin House, but also taking comfort in a man that she knew would grow to hate her, yet that didn’t stop her from secretly enjoying his company.  Even now, sitting next to him with her latest news weighing heavily on her, her heart and her mind were waging a silent war with each other.

‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ he whispered.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath before answering him.  ‘I’m leaving.  I know term isn’t over for a couple of months still, but I am needed at home.  Professor Dumbledore told me that I could leave immediately if I wanted to, but I…’

Lucius reached out and took her right hand in his left before raising his other hand to wipe the tears that had begun steadily falling down her cheeks.  She knew that she was making a spectacle of herself again, but at that moment she didn’t really care.  There was a part of her, a rather large part if she were being honest, that simply wanted to throw caution to the wind and stay in 1972.  She could finish her education and be with the only man who made her feel more alive than her first love, Ron.  They could run off together, she and Lucius, and live happily ever after.  It would work.  It had to work!

When she felt his breath on her cheek, she gasped in surprise before raising her eyes to his.  In that moment, it was just them, two friends who had slowly become more, two people who cared so much for each other that it seemed as if the world would end without the other there to stop it.  The first brush of his lips against hers was a mere whisper of movement.  His kiss was soft, tentative, and exploratory, as if he was waiting for her to pull back and slap him again.  Her head screamed at her to stop but she was sick of denying her heart.  She let him kiss her, moving her hands up his arms, past his shoulders, and to his neck.  Pulling him close, her tears continued to fall as they mutually deepened the kiss, pouring all unsaid thoughts and feelings into the meeting of their mouths.

They kissed for long minutes, slow moments filled with passion and longing, but eventually they had to pull back for air.  When they did, Lucius brought his left arm up to brush the hair away from her face.  At that moment, Hermione opened her eyes and caught the shadow of something on the inside of Lucius’ forearm.  Once again the reality of who exactly she was with fell upon her like a bucket of ice water.  She forcefully removed herself from his arms and stood, tears falling anew.  Hermione looked down into her hands and knew she had to get out of there.

‘This was a mistake.  I need to…  I have to leave.  I need to get out of here.  I shouldn’t have stayed.’

‘Hermione, wait!’ Lucius exclaimed, rising from the sofa and stopping her before she could flee to her bed.  ‘What are you on about?  What was a mistake?’

‘This!  You!  Everything!’  She was sobbing even harder now, her voice strained and wretched.  ‘I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get to know you.  I shouldn’t have become friends with you and I most certainly shouldn’t have kissed you!  What a right, fine mess I’ve managed to make of things,’ she added to herself.

Lucius was taken aback, looking as if she had physically struck him.  ‘You regret knowing me?’

‘Yes!’ she yelled reflexively.  Then, as if sense had come back to her, she sunk to the floor and shook her head.  ‘No.  I don’t know.  It’s just so hard,’ she whined.

Lucius chuckled and slid down to sit across from her on the floor.  ‘Nothing worth having is easily attained.’

Hermione could only laugh.  ‘What reality are you living in, Malfoy, because I would sure like to join you there.  Do you honestly believe there’s any chance for us?  Any hope at all that we could make a go of it and not have the world as we know it fall apart?  You’re more foolish than I thought if you truly feel like we could be together.’

Lucius scowled at the suggestion and she went on.  ‘You’re already contractually bonded to the youngest Black daughter.  You and I both know that the only way for you to escape that union would be for Narcissa to become pregnant by someone other than you.’

‘That would never happen,’ Lucius injected.  ‘I’ve hardly seen her look twice at anyone other than myself.’

‘Exactly.  Aside from that, what do you really know about me, hm?  You know my name, know that I love to read, that I’m a perfectionist, and that I have family in France.  What else, though?  You don’t know my parent’s names, nor what they do for a living.  My friends are a total mystery to you; all you know of them is that they exist somewhere that isn’t here.  You don’t even know my middle name.  For all you know,’ she added as an afterthought, ‘I could be half-blood or worse!  I could be a Muggleborn!’

He scoffed at the idea while reaching across to take her hands in his.  ‘There are many things I know about you, Hermione Granger. I know your birthday, I know your hopes and dreams, but most importantly I know that I love you.’

Hermione was temporarily stunned by his words.  Tears fell from her eyes as a sad smile graced her features.  Lucius leaned into her then, capturing her mouth, and trying to ease her sadness with his kiss.  She allowed it only for a moment before pulling back from him and standing.

‘It isn’t enough,’ she whispered.  ‘I’ll leave here and you’ll forget about me.  You’ll go on, marry Narcissa, and have a son to carry on your perfect lineage.  You’ll inherit your fortune on your twenty-first birthday, take over for your father, and carry the Malfoy name into the next decade and beyond, but I won’t be with you.  Besides, You-Know-Who is actually pleased with your proposed marriage and we wouldn’t want to disappoint him, now would we?’ she asked with a semi-sarcastic chuckle.  ‘My leaving is for the best and it’s how things are supposed to be.  I need to go back to my friends, to my home, to a place where I have a shot at a normal life.’

‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’ he asked in resigned realization.

‘There is the hope of someone else, yes. There is someone at home that I do wish would look at me the way that you do, but I fear he still has a lot of growing up to do.  I think it will be a while before he realizes that what he wants is right in front of his face.  We’ve been friends forever, though, so it may take time to realize I’ve grown up.’

‘Will I ever see you again?’

The question caught her off guard, and part of her really wanted to say yes.  She wanted to yell and scream and shake some sense into him, to keep him from becoming the man he was in her time, but it was too late for that.  Instead, she shook her head in denial.  ‘I will miss you.  Somewhere along the line, and definitely against my better judgment, I fell in love with you.’

Hermione turned away from his slumped form and began to make her way to the stairs and her bed. She felt stupid and weak for making such an admission to him, but there was a part of her that hoped her actually saying the words would make him hate her less when he grew up and realized who she really was. Then again, there was a really good chance he would hate and resent her for it. Either way, it didn’t matter. She’d meant what she said and the words could never be unspoken.

As her foot hit the first step, she felt his hand on her wrist. Hermione paused mid-step as he pressed himself against her back and wrapped his free arm around her waist.

‘Don’t go,’ he whispered into her hair.

‘I have to. I don’t have a choice.’

‘Stay with me.’

‘Lucius…”

‘Please, Hermione. Tonight. Just give me tonight.’

She took a deep breath, leaned back into him, and nodded.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘Lucius,’ she began hesitantly, ‘I’ve never done this before.’

‘We’ll learn together. I think we’ve shown we do that well.’

His whispered words helped relax her enough to turn in his arms and fully accept what was going to happen between them. Despite who he was, who she was, and what they both stood for, she knew that if she didn’t allow herself to have this, she would regret it for the rest of her life. Every corner of her mind was imploring her to see reason and cease the madness she was surely about to get into. Her heart, though… Her heart knew that she loved this man for everything he was. For all his faults, all his imperfections…

His face was set in firm determination, but his eyes spoke promises of all the pleasures they would share. Hermione reached a hand up and trailed the backs of her fingers over his cheek before bringing her other hand up to cup his cheeks between her palms. A quick glance at his mouth had her licking her lips and rising up on tiptoes to kiss him. Her kiss was soft and exploratory, but she felt something from him that surprised her: uncertainty. That was when his words truly came into focus.

‘”We’ll learn together.” Lucius?’ she asked. ‘Have you…? I mean, are you…?’

‘I’ve not wanted to engage anyone before.’

Against her better judgment, Hermione laughed.

‘You’re incorrigible. You’ve seen the women who attempt to throw themselves at me. The slags of Hogwarts. They’re like the brooms in First Year Flying lessons: everyone’s had a ride. My father, of course, simultaneously lauds and chastises me for not having a go. While he agrees that a Malfoy should never lower themselves to be with a woman with such low moral standing, he has long felt that I need to be “properly broken in” before I get married. You’re actually doing me a service, my love,’ he added jokingly. ‘Father told me that if I returned home after Sixth Year still untouched then he would send me out for a week over the summer to be educated.’

Her lips twitched up into a slight teasing smile. ‘Well, I suppose I could just let some random woman have her way with you.’

They shared a brief moment of levity before the cool confidence that would come to define Lucius Malfoy came to the fore. He leaned down and kissed her briefly before taking her hand and leading her away from the dorms and down the hall toward the study rooms. He led her past the doors she knew belonged to the private study libraries for fifth and seventh year students. They walked a couple meters farther down the hall and came to a series of three doors that made up the end of the hall.

‘These rooms are… Well, for just such an occasion as this.’ Lucius smiled down at her and opened the door on the left to reveal a surprisingly Spartan bedroom. There was a four-poster bed, a plain wooden table with two armless chairs, and a rather plush-looking rug in front of a fireplace. The only thing that seemed out of place was what appeared to be a medicine cabinet mounted to the far wall. ‘This is the most basic of the rooms. The door across from here contains more…surfaces, if you will. It’s also equipped for those with voyeuristic tendencies. The door in the middle is a dungeon.’

Hermione looked at him blankly for a moment before telling him she didn’t want to know. Her mind was mulling over why anyone would want to visit a dungeon and she vowed to look it up later, even though she was certain that she really did not want to know. Turning her full attention back to the man in front of her, she took a deep breath and closed the distance between them. They kissed again and this time, Lucius was in full control. He gripped her head in his hands and held her to him as he sensuously used his lips and tongue to turn her to putty in his hands.

She broke the kiss and pulled away from him. Smiling saucily in his direction, she turned her back to him and sauntered to the bed. Hermione bent at the waist and pulled off her sleep pants, leaving her only clad in the button-down cotton top and her knickers. Turning back around, she expected him to have followed her across the room or, at the very least, to be standing stock still and staring at her. She did not expect him to have his back to her as he rooted around in the wall mounted cabinet.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, padding across the room to him.

‘Looking for…Ah! There it is!’ Apparently he’d located the potion he was searching for, because he turned around to show her a vial of a sickly brown liquid. Popping the cork, Lucius downed the contents before discarding the empty vial and placing a tally mark next to the words “Contraceptive Potion” on the sheet inside the cabinet.

Hermione was confused. ‘Wasn’t I supposed to drink that?’

‘No. The potion is designed to stop semen and while it works when ingested by women, it’s more effective when taken by the man.’ Then he pulled her close and lowered his voice. ‘Make no mistake, I’ll still come deep inside of you, but there’s no fear of a child born out of wedlock. Every child of ours will be legitimate.’

She wanted to protest, to tell him that there would never be a child shared between them, but before the words could escape her mouth, his lips were on hers. All thoughts of a future together were banished by the realness of his body pressing against her. This was now. This was happening. This was real. She could no longer deny herself the longing she’d felt toward this man. She knew deep down that she should fight against what was happening…

‘You’re thinking too much, love. Just feel.’

His lips found a place just below her jaw near her ear that effectively erased all thought from her mind, save for those that focused on what he was doing to her. She threaded her hands in his hair and held him to her as his hands traversed the length of her back down to her bottom. Pulling back from her, he asked what happened to her pants.

‘Well, that’s what you get for not paying me the proper attention,’ she joked. When he looked confused, she continued, ‘I took them off while you were searching for the contraceptive potion. We must have had our backs to each other.’

‘That’s a shame. I’ll have to be more attentive from now on. Wouldn’t want to miss anything else.’

He backed her up toward the bed and when her knees hit the mattress, she sat down. Standing before her, he reached his hands to the hem of his shirt and pulled it off. Hermione stared at the perfect porcelain of his chest and stomach, tracing with her eyes a line of fine hairs that ran from his belly button down under his sleep pants. With her eyes glued to the place where the hair disappeared, she watched entranced as Lucius then moved his hands to his hips and, in one swift move, removed his bottoms completely.

Hermione licked her lips while her insides quivered in fear. Looking upon his hardened appendage, she wondered how on earth it was going to fit inside of her. Logistically, she knew that he would, that her body was designed to adjust and accept him. However…

‘You’re thinking too much again.’ Lucius was smiling at her. ‘We’ll figure it out together.’

‘Together.’

She took his hand and pulled him forward onto the bed. Laying down onto her back, she positioned herself so that she was partially underneath him but still able to get away if she wanted to. Lucius positioned himself next to her, propping his body up on his right elbow. His left hand moved to the top button on her shirt and fussed with it for a rather awkward few seconds before they both laughed. Lucius got up, walked around the bed, and settled himself onto his left elbow.

‘This should work a little better,’ he joked.

‘I can help, you know. It is my shirt.’

He shook his head. ‘You denied me the right to remove your pants. I want to undress you the rest of the way.’

She smiled at him and watched enraptured as he made quick work of her shirt. Once the buttons were undone, he rolled to his left and kissed her softly as his right hand came up to play with her breasts. Her breathing became more labored as he teased and tweaked her nipples. She was panting into his mouth while he kissed her. His lips then left hers as his right hand began to trace a path down her stomach toward her knickers. The moment when his lips attached to her right nipple, his fingers brushed her swollen and rather damp center. She gasped, feeling a pulse of need deep inside of her.

‘Lucius…’

‘My love…’

‘I want you.’

‘I know. But you’re not ready yet. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘There are some things you can’t help.’

He stared into her eyes, allowing her to see the intensity and sincerity of his words. ‘I can help this. I can promise that I will always be there for you. I will always look out for you.’ She tried to interrupt him, but he forged on. ‘No harm will ever come to you so long as I’m living.’

A tear slid down her cheek. ‘You really shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.’

‘As long as I’m around, you will be safe. I love you, Hermione. What sort of man would I be if I couldn’t keep my love from danger?’ His fingers brushed her sodden core again. ‘I love you too much to see you come to harm.’

Hermione reached toward him and pulled his head to her, knowing that these words would not ring true in her near future. She brought her mouth to his and kissed him deeply for only a moment before he pulled away. Getting to his knees, he moved his hands to her hips and oh so slowly removed her knickers. Sitting back on his heels, he tossed the garment onto the floor and looked at her, spread out before him on the bed, naked and waiting.

‘You’re so beautiful…’

‘Lucius…”

He moved over her as she opened her legs for him. She could tell he was holding himself back simply by looking in his eyes, so she was surprised when he simply leaned down to kiss her. Placing most of his weight on his left arm, he brought his right hand down to play between her folds, hoping to bring her some pleasure before the pain he knew would be coming. She could feel the coiling tension inside of her, but wanted to be one with him. She’d never wanted anything so badly in her entire life. The way he was playing her body made it difficult for her to tell him in words, so she used her breathy moans and her actions to invite him in, to let him know that she was ready for him. At that moment, his thumb found her clit as he pushed two fingers deep inside of her.

The orgasm came upon her so fast that she screamed out in surprise. His fingers coaxed her for only a few more seconds before he removed them and positioned himself at her entrance. He waited for her to open her eyes and look at him. His eyes were questioning, waiting for her approval, and when she smiled and nodded, it was all the invitation he needed. In one swift move, he pushed inside of her, moving past her body’s natural resistance, and seated himself fully. Hermione’s eyes squeezed shut at the intrusion as her arms grasped at his shoulders to combat the rather sharp pinch she felt inside.

‘I’ve hurt you,’ he said as he attempted to withdraw. ‘I’m so sorry…’

‘No!’ she cried. ‘Wait. It’ll pass. Just…. Just give me a moment…’

They waited together, Hermione breathing through the discomfort and Lucius holding back against the firm grasp her body had on his, while she adjusted to him. After a moment, she moved her hips a bit and explored the new sensations. He took his cues from her and began thrusting lightly. Their coupling wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t some aerobic masterpiece, but it was heartfelt and meaningful. He grew more confident as he realized that the pain from his initial intrusion had begun to give way to pleasure, he increased the drag and pull of himself inside of her. Lucius would withdraw more on each move of his hips and push farther inside with every thrust. He was becoming lost to the sensations.

Hermione watched in awe as this beautiful man let himself go with her. She could see his determination to make this good for her, to make it unforgettable. They moved against each other for a long while, alternating between staring into each other’s eyes and kissing like there was no need to ever breathe again. He tried changing the depth of his movements, the angle of his thrusts, and his speed in order to see what brought the best reactions from her, but all too soon, he knew it was almost over. Apologizing between deep grunts, he pushed himself as deep as he could go and held himself there as his own orgasm overtook him. Hermione held him in her arms as he came down from his high. A few long moments later, he pulled out of her and fell to the side. There they lay until he could speak again.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered.

‘For what? That was incredible!’ came her astonished reply.

He looked at her, confused. ‘You didn’t orgasm when I did. I should have paid more attention to your needs.’

Hermione laughed. ‘Oh, my love. You gave me two orgasms already.’

‘Two?’

‘Yeah. Don’t you remember? One a few weeks ago in the Room of Requirement and one just before you took my virginity.’ She paused for a second. ‘Or was it a few months ago? I can’t remember when, but it’s about time you got to enjoy one yourself.’

They stared into each others eyes for long minutes, content to simply lay there and enjoy being with one another. After a while, Hermione leaned into him and kissed him softly on the lips, then his cheek, then the soft place where his jaw ended below his ear. By the time she made it back to his mouth, the intensity and desire was blazing in his eyes again. He took her face in his and kissed her with every ounce of his being.

She was on fire in his arms, desperate to be one with him again, to be with him forever, but knowing it wasn’t possible. She had to leave, couldn’t stay, but she’d promised to give him this one night. Rolling herself beneath him once again, she allowed him to take her. They kissed and groped, fondled and caressed, made love slowly, and when Lucius brought her to orgasm, just moments before he himself came, she whispered her love for him with tears in her eyes.

Some time later, Hermione roused from her place in his arms and carefully removed herself from the cocoon of his warmth. Getting dressed, she made certain that he was still asleep. The last thing she wanted was for him to wake and ask what she was doing. This was goodbye. She didn’t need him witnessing it. When she was dressed, she leaned slightly over him to kiss his perfect brow. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake. Releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, Hermione padded softly to the door and turned to face him one last time as a friend and lover. Tears began falling anew as she cast cleansing charms on both of them and followed with a few freshening charms to clear the air and sheets of the smell of sex. He would severely dislike not having the scent of her around him when he woke up, but what did it matter? He would hate her soon enough. It was a certainty. Where she was going…

She forbade herself from succumbing to the sob which was building up inside of her, knowing it would do nothing but give her a headache to go along with the ache in her chest. Hermione walked to the Headmaster’s office with quick and purposeful strides. She didn’t wish for anyone to see her sneaking about, so she utilized every secret passage she could remember in order to get to her destination. When she arrived, she didn’t even need to say anything. Professor Dumbledore took her by the hand and flooed to the Ministry, directly into the Department of Mysteries. The Unspeakables gave her a few surprisingly simple instructions before asking if she had any questions. She merely shook her head.

‘Miss Granger,’ came the soft tones of her professor, ‘it really has been a privilege to know you. Perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to make your acquaintance later on in my life?’

She didn’t answer him, merely smiled before she offered a small wave and initiated the unorthodox magic that would drop her right back into a battle she wished to have no part of. A battle against the Death Eaters.

A battle against her one true love…

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

She hit the ground hard, rolling a bit but far enough removed from the cabinet she had originally crashed into to see it crumble, rebuild, and crumble again in a pattern that would continue endlessly. Hermione managed to get to her feet and find her wand in time to Stun a Death Eater who was about to do the same to Harry. The adrenaline from the battle she had once again found herself in surged through her blood. Her inquisitive mind allowed her a moment’s pause as she witnessed Time at work on the head of the Death Eater she had sent sailing into the seemingly innocent bell jar, but she was pulled back into the battle by the shouts around her. Her fight or flight instinct told her to run, but she was forced back into the fight when her pursuers burst through the door she was attempting to seal.

She was hit with a curse that had her flying back into another shelving unit only this time, she remained in the present, in the heat of the fight. Relieved to not only be in one piece, but also to have not smashed into another cabinet of Time Turners, Hermione took a deep breath and turned to find her friends. Her eyes scanned the room until they fell on another Death Eater who was attempting to alert his comrades of their whereabouts. She silenced him quickly before Harry Petrified another older wizard who had pushed past the one Hermione had quieted. The witch turned a smiling face toward her friend at precisely the wrong moment, for her eyes caught those of a certain blond who held an expression equally made up of surprise, disgust, and anger. Then his face shifted briefly to recognition before his mask of fierce indifference returned and she could tell he knew she was now aware of their shared history.

Hermione wanted to go to him, to talk to him and explain things, but as soon as she allowed her eyes to travel the contours of his face, she realized that he was no longer the same man she had come to love. He was even more cynical and tyrannical than he had been as a boy. He probably also now hated her for not only leaving, but for deceiving him as she had. No. This was best left alone, those days best served by forgetting them and leaving them in the past.

The entire thought process had taken less than half a second, but it was long enough to distract her from the war raging on around her. Mentally returning to the now, Hermione’s eyes found Harry’s again to congratulate him on a well-placed jinx, but the words never left her mouth. The Death Eater she had Silenced slashed his wand through the air and a violent purple-colored bit of magic hit her. The last thing her mind registered before once again going black was a complete look of fear in familiar crystalline blue eyes.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

She woke up in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Her mind was a muddled fog of events, sounds, and experiences. Blinking away the sleep, she looked around the familiar room and tried to place herself, wondering if perhaps she had dreamt leaving 1972. It wasn’t until Harry and Ron came bounding into the room that she realized that she was back in her own time.

They spoke at the same time. Ron was telling her about all the cool stuff she apparently missed after she was knocked out, including something about brains trying to smother him, while Harry spoke of the Order arriving and then of Dumbledore’s showdown with You-Know-Who himself. They told her about the giant Death Eater who was now walking around with an actual baby face, and Neville’s bravery in the face of Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand.

‘I used an Unforgivable,’ Harry said in a somber tone. Hermione was in shock, her mouth slightly open as Harry explained. ‘She killed Sirius.’

The revelation hung between them. Before much more could be said, the doors to the hospital wing flew open again and the headmaster walked in with Madam Pomfrey a half step behind him. The two newcomers walked swiftly to Hermione’s bedside and began fussing over her. Harry and Ron were sent back to their common room with the knowledge that their friend would follow as soon as the mediwitch could ensure Hermione’s health and wellbeing.

‘Well, Miss Granger,’ began Madam Pomfrey, ‘it would appear that the only damage done to you was a well-placed bump on your head. That’s why you lost consciousness.’

‘But what about the curse?’ Hermione inquired.

‘Curse?’

‘Yes. Just before I lost consciousness, I was hit with a nonverbal spell. The jet of light was purplish and it felt like my insides were being ripped out.’

Albus and Poppy looked at each other before the mediwitch set to work casting diagnostic spells over Hermione’s abdomen. Everything must have been all right because before long, Poppy Pomfrey was releasing Hermione back to her common room with instructions that she was to take it easy for a few days.

Hermione and Albus Dumbledore left the hospital wing together, walking in silence until they reached the corridor in front of the entrance to Gryffindor house. Just before they arrived at the portrait, the headmaster stopped her.

‘Miss Granger, I understand you’ve had quite the experience in the past week. Should you ever find yourself in need of someone to speak with, know that my door is always open to you.’

She thanked him and entered the common room, where she was immediately surrounded by her friends. They were obviously happy to see her - those who had been with her at the Ministry asking how she was feeling while those who weren’t were asking what happened to cause her stay. Not really wanting to talk much about anything, she excused herself to her room, telling everyone that while she had been released, she was still under orders to get some more rest.

Hermione entered her room and closed the door behind her. While she couldn’t lock it, she knew that she could have solitude in the sanctity of her own bed. Crawling into her four poster, she drew the curtains and slid under the blankets.

Numb. There was no other word to describe the feeling inside her at that moment. So much had happened since the last time she’d been in this particular bed. She’d sat her History of Magic O.W.L after an abbreviated night of sleep the night before. It was during that exam that Harry’d had his vision about Sirius being tortured. This was followed by a rather eventful trip to Umbridge’s office, where they’d been caught using the Floo. They’d finally discovered who sent the Dementors after Harry the previous summer, but Hermione felt a light sense of satisfaction knowing that Umbridge was off somewhere being tortured by the Centaurs. Then there was the debacle at the Ministry.

She’d known it was a trap. She’d tried to convince Harry of the fact, but he wasn’t having anything to do with what she was saying. All he knew was that his godfather was in trouble and he had to save the older wizard. The battle that ensued was nothing short of traumatic, and that’s without taking into consideration her trip to the past.

She needed to think about it, though. There was no way around it. When she’d returned to the battle, there was a moment when she and Lucius… Mr Malfoy… had looked at each other and known. He’d seemed surprised at first, but that quickly faded into anger and resentment. Thinking about the hurt look on his face, even only for the split second it was there, sent a feeling through her heart that could only be likened to a dull blade trying to tear through. It was hell. Curling up with her blankets and pillow, Hermione mentally said goodbye to her lover and cried herself to sleep.

O.W.L.’s went on as usual and the school year came to an end. The Daily Prophet was finally acknowledging that You-Know-Who was actually back and that Harry Potter himself had once again faced off with him and lived to tell the tale. They were calling him the Chosen One and all other silly sorts of nicknames, as if they hadn’t been denouncing him as a complete nutter for about the past year. A few days after she’d gotten home from Hogwarts, an owl delivered an issue of the wizarding newspaper with a familiar man on the front page. She’d wondered what had happened to those Death Eaters at the Ministry, but now she knew: they’d all gone to Azkaban.

Try as she might, she couldn’t help but cry for him. Sure, he’d done this to himself, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be sad. He was older now, but he was still the man …boy… she’d loved. Loved. Still loved. Tears fell anew, sobs wracked her body, and inside of the sane part of her mind, she had to wonder if travelling all of those years back and forth through time had done something sinister to her hormones. She never cried this much! Looking at the paper again, she could see the defiance in his eyes, the haughtiness that was Lucius Malfoy, and she had to smile. Azkaban wouldn’t break him. He was too strong for that.

He had to be…

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

Summer with her parents went by quickly and soon she was back in the wizarding world, shopping for books and trying to convince Harry that Draco Malfoy hadn’t taken up where his father could not now that he was incarcerated. It got worse once they were all back at Hogwarts. Harry had gone missing on the train only to turn up later with a bloody nose. Apparently, Malfoy had broken his nose and Luna Lovegood had fixed it for him. At least it looked straight and as if it had not been touched too much. Then there was the sketchy Potions text that was owned by someone who called themselves the Half-Blood Prince. That was another fight and a half. Ron thought it was brilliant, of course, and the boys once again joined up against her over the usefulness of the annotations in the text.

It had taken her some time, but she finally felt that she was moving on from her time with a man she could never have. It didn’t hurt that every now and again, she and Ron would look at each other and she would be reminded of her love for him. She was even getting up the courage to say something to him when that slag Lavender Brown snatched him up from under her nose! The nerve! Her heart was broken again, but the relationship didn’t last long. Before she knew it, sixth year was coming to an end and the entire world was being turned upside down.

Dumbledore was dead, killed by Professor Snape. Hermione, during her grief, remembered the small yet lanky boy from her time in Slytherin with him. He seemed so quiet, so innocent, and yet according to Harry, he’d done the unthinkable and murdered their headmaster. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. After the funeral, Harry explained that he was going to go off and finish what Dumbledore started. Of course, she and Ron were going to accompany him. It was no question. But first, things needed to be done.

They said goodbye to Hogwarts. Hermione Obliviated her parents and sent them to the other side of the planet, quite literally, after completely erasing herself not only from their memories, but from the lives of everyone around her in the Muggle world. Then she went to the Burrow to stay with the Weasley’s for a time. Together, they went to retrieve Harry from his aunt and uncle, but even that was fraught with disaster, as the Death Eaters seemed to be expecting them. Seeing as she, Ron, and Harry all temporarily looked like Harry, she was scared out of her mind. When the curses were flying and people were falling, she could only hope that no one she loved was injured. Not Harry. Not Ron. …not Lucius, if he were even up there with them. When they all finally made their way back to the Burrow, she was so happy to see her boys that she ran to them, overcome with emotion at their safety.

The safety wasn’t to last, though. At the wedding of Bill and Fleur, she was sure that Ron was going to finally grab her and kiss her. She could see it in his eyes that he was completely smitten that night and she was overjoyed! Before anything could happen between them, the wards fell, the Ministry fell, and the trio went on the run. Tensions ran high, the hunt for the Horcruxes became too much, and Ron ran out on them. It was heartbreak all over again and Hermione cried for days. Her feelings for Ron were confused with her still remaining feelings for Lucius and she was distraught. Harry did his best to cheer her up, often holding her at night and trying to keep the mood light. It wasn’t until after Christmas when Ron finally returned to them, and though it was hard, she eventually did forgive him. Besides, he came back with the Sword of Gryffindor and had used it to destroy another Horcrux, the very one that had driven him to leave in the first place.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

They messed up, or rather Harry had messed up. He’d said You-Know-Who’s name and they were now on their way up a set of stairs inside of Malfoy Manor. She’d cast a Stinging Jinx on Harry, but had she known where they’d end up, she would have done so on herself. Now, she was face to face with a stranger, a shell of the man he once was, who was naming her in a bid to raise himself from the hole he appeared to be in.

She didn’t remember much after that. There was pain, yes, and she knew of her torture in the same way one would view a motion picture, but a lot of her memories of that day came from what others had told her. She’d read somewhere that victims of great trauma often black out the most horrific parts in order to get on with their lives, but the scar on her arm, that one word, would forever be a reminder of how much hatred Lucius truly had for her. There was no way he would have allowed it to happen if he even had an iota of positive feelings left for her.

Dobby the house-elf was dead, but they had some semblance of a plan. With all the information they’d gathered from their time at Malfoy Manor, along with the conversations with Griphook the goblin and Mr Ollivander, they figured they not only knew of the location of another of the Horcruxes, but also what You-Know-Who was up to. The trio convalesced a bit, prepared for battle, and left their temporary sanctuary.

The battle would soon be upon them, and win or lose, it would all be over.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The shell-shocked image of the Malfoys huddling together as a family would forever be burned into her mind.  The eternally beautiful Narcissa was sitting on a bench, her son, Draco, held close to her heart in a grip that Hermione was certain was simultaneously bruising and reassuring for both of them.  Lucius sat close to his wife’s right side, a part of the moment without actually being involved in it.  Upon closer inspection, Hermione could tell that neither Narcissa nor Draco had been paying him much mind.  He was simply there, the patriarch of a family who had been worn down and almost completely torn asunder by his own egomaniacal agendas.

Forcing herself to turn away from them, from him, Hermione once again focused on the ginger family in front of her.  Like the Malfoys, the Weasleys were huddled together, only this lot was mourning the loss of one of their own.  Fred was laying still on the floor, his face still slightly lifted in his dying laugh, while his mother, father, and siblings cried over him.  They were all sitting on the floor surrounding the body, Hermione near the edge of the group and lending silent support to Ron.  A few minutes passed before she realized that she and Lucius were both in a similar situation.  While both appeared to be a part of the group they were with, neither were actually involved in the grieving process their companions were experiencing.  They were merely observers.

Swallowing hard, Hermione told Ron that she needed to take a walk, to find Harry who seemed to have gone missing.  Ron didn’t seem to hear her, nor did he notice her departure, as he was too wrapped up in his own grief.  She walked away understanding his sorrow and preoccupation while also being hurt that she seemed to matter so little to him. Hadn’t they just kissed? Wasn’t that him who had finally realized that the two of them were meant for each other and needed to be together?

She physically shook her head to clear those absurd thoughts. Everyone dealt with grief differently, and this was still fresh, the body still not far removed from the scene of its demise. While the Weasley’s were crying over their loss, she felt only numbness, and the fact that Ron hadn’t acknowledged her when she walked away only added to her detachment from the situation. She needed to get out. Finding Harry could wait. After all, it wasn’t like she had to keep an eternal eye on him anymore; the war was over.

Hermione walked from the Great Hall, passing Argus Filch in the entryway as he was fighting a losing battle against the rubble caused by the war that had so recently raged through these hallowed halls. She could feel the fresh air coming from the broken doors that lead to the outside and followed the breeze until she felt the warm sunlight on her face.

Freedom. She was free. No more did she have to look over her shoulder for the bad guys. No longer did she need to sleep with one eye open, fearing that her wards would fail and the Snatchers would find them. Voldemort was dead, forever removed from this world by the combined efforts of many people, a few of which had given their own lives to save the lives of others. The images of the deceased passed before her mind’s eye and she held her face to the sun, eyes closed to bask in the brightness. Albus Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody. Remus Lupin. Tonks. Colin Creevey. Fred Weasley. Dobby.

It was the last of these faces that drew a sob from her, remembering the elf and the events that had led to his demise. Hermione looked down at her arm and saw the scarring from Bellatrix’s knife, recalling the torture she had endured at the hands of that psychopath. Her body recalled the pain that came from the repeated exposure to the Cruciatus Curse and Hermione physically shook from the memory. She had no idea how she managed to survive and made a mental note to see a healer about her ordeal, now that it was safe to do so. It was plain to her that she would eventually get past the brutality of the past year, but there was one thing she never thought she would get over.

Attempting to flee from the thoughts of <I>him</I>, Hermione walked through the courtyard and made her way down toward the lake. When she reached the shores, she noticed that the giant squid was playing merrily in the still waters, apparently unaware of all the havoc that had been wrecked around him. She allowed herself a brief chuckle before chastising herself for finding humour when so many were mired in sadness. Hermione flopped down on the stone bank of the lake and finally succumbed to her misery. Sobs shook her small frame as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She wept for all she had lost. She wept for her youth that was spent in peril rather than fun. She wept for her parents who were (hopefully) down in Australia and had no idea that they’d even had a child together. She wept for her friends, both those who had died and those who survived to rebuild. Most of all, she wept for lost love.

Thinking about love brought a fresh wave of sadness through her. Ron, the one she had first known as a person with whom she could become involved, was too wrapped up in himself and his own grief to even notice that she was gone. Deep down, she thought that they could still be together, but she knew that it would take some time. Beyond Ron, though, there was another. There was the man with whom she had first known love, the man who had shown her affection even while she was pushing him away.

Lucius Malfoy filled her thoughts despite her best efforts to think of anything but him. She wondered what he was doing right at that moment. Was he still sitting with his family? Had he fled the country, knowing that he was facing certain prison time for his actions? Or had he stayed and simply succumbed to the Aurors who were slowly arriving on the scene and collecting the known Death Eaters?

She hated the thought of him in prison stripes and magic-dampening tattoos. Even the knowledge that he’d brought it on himself did nothing to help the fact that deep down, she still loved him. Despite his faults, despite all he had done and the things he’d neglected to do, she would give almost anything to be with him. But he’d let things happen. He’d broken his promise to always keep her safe.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

The cleanup was hard, even with the use of magic, but before long Hogwarts was back up and running. Hermione, along with more than a few others in her year, returned to the school to finish their education properly. It was strange for her to be there, sharing a room with Ginny and not having Harry or Ron around at all. Even more strange was seeing Draco Malfoy around the castle.

The older he got, the more he looked like his father. She’d never really realized it before, as he’d had a lot of his mother’s features, but now that he was older, she couldn’t deny it. In fact, if she ignored his voice, she could almost swear she was back in 1972 with a teenage Lucius. Draco was not Lucius, though.

She was lonely in the castle. Sure, she had friends, but no one she could really relate to anymore. Coming back from the past had been hard enough. Now, though, she had a year on the run to make up for. No one knew what that was like. No one but Harry and Ron… Well, no one but Harry… And they weren’t here. They were off in England somewhere doing Auror training. The offer had been for her as well, but she didn’t want to be handed anything. She needed to complete her N.E.W.T.s and get a job that she earned, and not just by fighting in a war.

Sitting in the much diminished library, Hermione was attempting to get a jump on a few essays that had been set early on. She still had a few weeks to complete them, but she needed to focus her mind on something other than the mind numbing normalcy of her life. She sat in the back corner, hoping to avoid the plethora of students who seemed to hero worship her. She’d even just shooed away a couple of second years who were distracting her with their whispers. A scuffle was heard as someone knocked into the corner of the bookshelf that was hiding her from view. Thinking they’d come back, she looked up from her book to scold them, but the words died on her lips.

‘Mind if I join you, Granger?’

She didn’t answer him per se, but rather moved her books around in order to clear a space for him to work.

‘Thanks. I um… I can’t stand the stares and the whispers.’ Draco turned his head to look back toward people who weren’t there as he remembered the scathing words that were being thrown his way.

‘You’re bleeding!’ she exclaimed, coming around the table to tend to a small gash just under his left ear. ‘What happened? Did you cut yourself shaving?’

He gave her a confused look which made her chuckle. She tried to use her wand to heal the inch long wound, but nothing she tried would work. In the end, she merely cleaned it out and transfigured a band-aid to keep it covered until time healed.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘You’re welcome. I won’t ask what happened. I can’t begin to imagine what people are putting you through. I mean, I heard the whispers, even tried to shut them up a bit and –‘

He stopped her. ‘Look. Let’s not pretend to be best mates, ok? I’ve heard what you’ve done for me, including putting in a good word with McGonagall for me to get back in here. I’m in your debt, Granger.’

‘No. We’re even. You could have given us up at your house and you didn’t. Even that little bit of extra time probably saved all of our lives.’

Looking at her askance, Draco shook his head and opened his books. The two worked quietly in a semi-awkward silence for well over an hour. Occasionally one would glance up at the other, but for the most part, they worked well together. They would pass books, share their notes with one another, and even silently correct mistakes. The next night found both of them at the same table in the same corner of the library. It was a pattern that would hold through the Christmas holidays.

Intermingled with her studies were the Death Eater trials. Most of them she didn’t care about at all, but there were a few that really mattered. Of course she had attended the trial of Draco Malfoy. It had been one of the first and she truly felt as if she needed to be there. It wasn’t only because of his actions, or rather his inactions, during their time at Malfoy Manor, but also because of his youth and upbringing. He was a child, a fact he bristled at every time someone would bring it up. There was no going against the adults in your life. Not when those adults included Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Voldemort himself. He had no other choice but to take the Mark and do the Dark Lord’s bidding…not if he wished to live.

She was saddened to hear that the Death Eater whose head fell into the bell jar and became baby-like back at the battle in the Department of Mysteries had actually been Rabastan Lestrange. She vaguely remembered seeing him there, but she did not recognize him. Azkaban must have really harmed the once handsome wizard. Upon hearing that news, she went looking into the lives of those she’d considered close friends in the past. Jupiter Wilkes, she learned, was killed by Aurors not too long after she had been born. Galerius Avery had also perished, but he had been killed during the Battle of Hogwarts in the Second War. Again, she couldn’t recall seeing him. His appearance must have greatly changed. Only one of her female friends was known to her, the other three either dead or simply vanished. She didn’t know, but she would be sure to take the time to ask Andromeda.

It was strange to think that the mother of Tonks was someone she had really gotten to know. Tonks was quirky and exuberant, but Andromeda was more reserved. Perhaps she had acquired the traits from her father. Hermione didn’t know much about Ted Tonks, but it was possible he was more outgoing. After all, he had gone after a pureblooded Slytherin witch. Hermione made a mental note to owl her old friend. …what a strange reunion that would be…

Other trials took place for people she’d either never heard of or never cared to hear of again. One name that never came up was Lucius Malfoy. Hermione and Draco hadn’t become friends in the traditional sense of the word, but in a way she felt closer to him than she did anyone else at Hogwarts. During Christmas break, while staying with the Weasleys, she and Ron had gotten into a terrible row over the Malfoys and why Hermione seemed to care so much about them.

‘Honestly, Mione, why does it even matter if that git gets a trial? We all know he’s a Death Eater. Let him be Kissed! No one will miss him!’

She was furious. ‘Don’t. Call me. MIONE!!! And of COURSE someone would miss him! What about his wife? His son? Draco is a mess knowing his father is locked up and still awaiting –‘

‘Oh, so he’s “Draco” now, is he? Getting all cozy with the junior Death Eater up at Hogwarts while Harry and I do the real work down here?’

‘Ron…’

‘You never owl –‘

‘I owl every week!’

‘-and you never come to see me when I’m around –‘

‘You know very well that I can’t leave school grounds while I’m supposed to be in class, Ronald Weasley…’

‘-proper girlfriend. Since I obviously mean so little to you, you can just go slag around with Malfoy!'

The slap that she landed on his right cheek felt like it shattered every bone in her left hand, but she didn’t care. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was enough pain relief to see her way back to her room to pack her things. She bid a fast farewell to Mr and Mrs Weasley and ran from the house. As soon as she was clear of the wards, she Apparated.

When Hermione landed, it took her a few moments to figure out where she was before the familiar streets of her childhood registered in her brain. Before the emotion of that moment caught up to the fury of her encounter with Ron, she Apparated again, this time landing safely inside The Leaky Cauldron. She walked up to Tom, who was still minding the shop even though he looked rather aged and tired, and asked for a room. The moment she crossed the threshold of room 12, she collapsed inside the door and cried.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

That night, she went down into the pub to grab a bite of supper. Finding a table near the opposite corner from where the Diagon Alley crowd would come and go, she sat with her back to the wall and her body in the shadows. She wanted to see if anyone, namely Ron, would come looking for her. She did not, however, wish to be seen.

Seen she was, though not by anyone she would have expected. The platinum blond head of Draco Malfoy came into her line of sight just as she was tucking into a meat pie. He looked at her rather sheepishly as he asked to join her. Hermione gestured to the seat across from her and, once again, the two sat in near silence…only this time, they were eating rather than revising. It was Draco who broke the silence.

‘What happened to your hand?’

‘Ronald Weasley.’

‘Oh.’ They were silent for a few more minutes.

‘Why aren’t you at your Manor with your mum and dad?’

‘Mother is under house arrest and is refusing to see anyone, and Father is still…’

More silence. ‘Do you owl her?’

‘Every day. I know she’s getting my owls because Tipsy has been sending me treats. That’s Mother’s elf. But he also says that Mother refuses to write anyone back.’ Draco was silent for a moment before continuing in a near whisper. ‘I’m worried about her, Granger.’

The unconventional pair finished their dinner without saying another word and when it was time to part from each other’s company, Draco did the unthinkable and asked Hermione to join him for ice cream in Diagon Alley. She agreed to the ice cream, but suggested instead they head out into Muggle London to find some. He surprisingly went along with her idea and the two soon found a quaint parlor not too far from The Leaky Cauldron. Draco, ever the gentleman his father raised him to be, paid for dessert and the pair began a slow and roundabout walk back toward the wizarding world.

They talked about nothing important for about a half hour, but the burning curiosity inside of Hermione eventually got the best of her.

‘Malfoy, wh-‘

‘I think we’re beyond last names, right? I mean, in my mind I’ve been calling you Hermione ever since that day you let me join you in the library. Don’t you think we should let go of the past and start over? Names and all?’

She paused for a half of a heartbeat before she smiled and continued, ‘Alright then… Draco…’

‘Isn’t that nicer, Hermione? Almost makes us seem like the friends we’ve become rather than the enemies we once were!’ He said, chuckling right along with her.

‘Draco, what’s happening to your father?’ Sensing his unease at the question, she plowed ahead with her reasoning for wanting to know. ‘I mean, sure, he did some bad things, but he didn’t have a wand when Harry, Ron, and I were captured. And I’m sure he didn’t fight at all during the Final Battle. I was just… I don’t know…’

The pair noticed more than a few strange looks at her mention of wands and battles, so they decided to take the conversation back into safer territories. Neither of them really said much of anything until they were safely enclosed within The Leaky Cauldron. Then, Draco did something that truly surprised her: he invited her up to his room to talk.

‘But only to talk, Granger,’ he joked at the scandalized look on her face. ‘We wouldn’t want Weasel to think you were really slagging it up with me, now would we?’ He bumped her shoulder with his and they both laughed out loud at the joke. She then followed him up to room 11.

‘This is your room?’ He nodded. ‘Mine’s right next door!’

He led her inside and while he was stoking the fire, she transfigured the solitary chair into something a bit more suitable for the two of them. She sat at one end of the elongated seat and he came and sat at the other. Then he spoke, never looking at her, but rather staring at his hands in his lap.

‘It’s tough for Father right now. I’ve had some of the best solicitors money can buy look into his case, but the Ministry keeps claiming that they’re compiling evidence against him. The way the laws are written, they can legally hold him until such a time as they’re set to prosecute.’

‘That’s not fair!’

‘You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, Hermione. But the thing is, I think Father is content there. He’s not happy, not in the slightest, but it’s almost as if he’s resigned himself to spending the rest of his life behind bars.’

‘There must be something that we- I mean… What can I do to help you? No! Wait! I know! Draco, you’re brilliant! Why didn’t I think of it before?’

Leaving a bewildered Draco in her wake, Hermione ran from the room, fairly flew down the stairs, and bolted from The Leaky Cauldron. Turning into an alleyway, she made sure no one was looking and Apparated into what she knew to be an abandoned warehouse near the entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Hermione walked briskly over to the public entrance, a simple enough looking public phone box, and stepped inside. After dialing the appropriate number (6-2-4-4-2) and speaking to the voice on the other end, she took and attached the visitors badge to her jumper. She made her way through the throngs of people who were awestruck to be in her presence and took the first available lift to Level 1. She needed to speak with Kingsley.

The witch serving as secretary to the Minister looked flabbergasted at Hermione’s presence. She kept stammering about how the Minister was busy and how she couldn’t expect special treatment simply because she was Hermione Granger. She went on to say that if she would just schedule an appointment, things would be easier. It was about that time that Kingsley Shacklebolt opened his door.

‘Hermione!’ the wizard boisterously exclaimed. ‘How great to see you! How are things at Hogwarts? The school back up and running alright?’

‘The school’s running fine. Not quite back to one hundred percent yet, but it’s definitely getting there! Listen, I was wondering if I could have a word with you, away from prying ears if you don’t mind.’

‘Sure thing, dear. Sylvia, cancel my dinner.’

The two walked back into the Minister’s office and took up a less formal seating arrangement near a small table. Kingsley tapped his wand on the table and an assortment of teas and biscuits appeared. Once they’d prepared their tea, he asked what brought her to see him that evening.

‘I know you’re busy trying to keep the wizarding world up and running after the events of the past few years, but I’ve recently become aware of a most egregious miscarriage of justice.’

She told him all about her conversation with Draco Malfoy including what she’d seen at the Manor and during the final battle, of how his father was still being held, and how the Aurors and those in Magical Law were trying to hold him while they make a stronger case. It was also mentioned how Draco thought his father had become apathetic and almost accepting of his predicament. She then asked how it was possible for something like this to go on under his charge and, as her anger got the best of her, she threatened to bring down the entire weight of her name and status on the entire Ministry of Magic if things didn’t change.

They spoke for a very short time after her outburst, and then Hermione left with the assurance that Kingsley would deal with those who were not following due process in the Malfoy case. When she reminded him that he most likely wasn’t the only Death Eater dealing with that sort of prejudice, he agreed to look into that as well. Satisfied it was the best she was going to be able to do on such short notice and with so little research, she bid him a good night and returned to the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione and Draco spent the final few days of their Christmas hols just enjoying each others company. Neither of them needed to explain when a sudden terror would overtake them, or why random noises would make them draw their wands. They were both veterans of a difficult war. Survivors. Kindred spirits in a way. When the time came to head back to Hogwarts, they rode in the same compartment.

Rumours flew around Hogwarts about the budding relationship between the war heroine and the Death Eater, but the two in question merely shrugged it off as gossip. That first week back to school saw Hermione and Draco thick as thieves, sitting together in class and even eschewing conventional seating arrangements in the Great Hall for meal times.

By the second week back, it was becoming more common to see students from other houses visiting each other at meals. It wasn’t all the time, and it wasn’t every meal, but there was definitely becoming a greater sense of inter house unity.

When the post arrived on an unbelievably frigid fifteenth of January, both Hermione and Draco had letters delivered bearing the official seal of the Minister of Magic. With Draco's missive also came a thick piece of parchment bearing a script that Hermione knew she’d seen before, but couldn’t quite place. Hermione could almost feel the gears inside of her brain working when she noticed that Draco was staring at the second piece of mail he’d received.

‘I need to go,’ he said before blankly getting up and walking away from his half eaten breakfast.

She stared at him for a full five seconds before she got up and tore after him. He was walking slowly enough, seeming to be in some sort of stupor, and she caught up to him right before he was about to exit the castle. Her words about the weather didn't seem to affect him at all. He walked right out into the cold and continued until he was near a seldom used greenhouse.

‘Draco!’ she exclaimed, waving a hand in front of his face as he stared at the letters as if they may bite him at any moment. ‘Are you mad? It’s freezing out –‘

‘It’s from Father.’

His response effectively cut her off. She pulled out her wand and cast warming charms on both of them as she looked at the parchment still clutched in her left hand. Realizing what this meant, she immediately felt a panic overtaking her. Kingsley was writing her. The Ministry and his father had written to him. She felt certain that the letter from Kingsley was an apology to her on how long it had taken, and letting her know that he’d taken the matter of Lucius Malfoy before the Wizengamot. She was also certain that the letters from both the Ministry and his father were informing Draco that Lucius was once again going to be sent to Azkaban.

Hermione felt like she couldn’t breathe. She sat next to Draco as he ever so slowly opened this missive from his father. In the course of the longest minute of her life, she watched as Draco’s face went from concern to suspicion to complete elation. He quickly pulled the letter from the Ministry to the fore and ripped it open, almost destroying it in the process. Scanning the words quickly, Draco gave one short laugh as he returned to his father’s words.

Now her heart was in her stomach. This was a boy she was coming to care for like the brother that she’d never had, yet here he was celebrating the fact that his own father was going to be rotting away in a Dementor-filled hell hole for the rest of his days! Her anger was almost palpable when he threw his arms around her waist and lifted her up to spin in a completely un-Malfoy-like way.

‘He’s free!’ Draco exclaimed with childlike joy.

Sure she was hearing things, she asked him to repeat himself. ‘My father, Hermione. He’s free! Do you know what this means?’

Hermione turned from him to look at the letter in her own hand. Tuning out whatever it was he was going on about, she broke the seal and began to read:

Hermione,

Thank you for coming in to see me the other week. Regardless of the circumstances, it was nice to see a friendly face amidst the world of politics and reconstruction.

As to the reason for your visit, I’m sorry to say that I was too late to really do anything for more than a few of the accused Death Eaters. Fortunately for your young Mr Malfoy, I was able to step in just in the nick of time to save his father from a similar fate.

By the time you’re read this owl, the elder Malfoy should be comfortably ensconced back into his ancestral home. The Aurors in charge of his case have been dismissed and charged with Obstruction of Justice. They will face house arrest with magical limitations at the minimum. Once the inquiry into their actions is completed, I will be able to update you as to the extent of their punishments. It is far too early to know just how many people were affected by their actions.

On a more personal note, it was nice to see you’ve moved on from the youngest Weasley boy. I like Ron as much as the next bloke, but anyone with eyes could see that you two aren’t well suited for each other. Whatever the young Mr Malfoy has done to earn your love and forgiveness, it must have been substantial. You deserve someone who will love you for all you are, including your intelligence. Perhaps Draco Malfoy is just that person for you.

I wish you both the best of luck in your blooming relationship. You’ll have to bring him round for tea at some point…just be sure to make an appointment.

Hermione could almost hear the wit behind his final words to her. While the letter was signed personally, it still bore the seal of the Minister of Magic, which was rather a collectable in Hermione’s mind. After all, how often did one get a missive from the minister himself? She was confused, though, as to why he’d thought she’d be in a relationship with Draco.

Looking up at the young, blond wizard, Hermione caught him looking at her with the goofiest expression she’d ever seen on his face. In fact, he looked younger than he had in years! Elation was clear in his features as he asked why she’d also gotten a letter from the Minister. Taking it from her hand, he read over the missive, he expression changing from complete delight to confusion.

‘Hermione,’ he asked slowly, ‘What does the Minister mean by this?’

As if coming out of a fog, she looked at him. ‘Mean by what? He said a lot of things in that owl.’

‘Let’s start with the obvious, shall we? He said you went to see him?’

Hermione started with the moment they’d sat in his room at The Leaky Cauldron. The conversation they’d had had really shed some light on some things for her, and it was as if a light bulb had gone off in her head. Ignoring his question about what a light bulb was, she continued to tell him how she’d left him there and gone straight to the Ministry. Of course, being Hermione Granger had its perks, and one of them was being on a first name basis with the Minister of Magic himself. She told Draco how she’d basically ripped the Minister up one side and down the other about the misuse of power by those who are charged to protect and met out appropriate justice. The obvious personal vendettas of those in the Auror office was a big thing that she’d discussed with the minister that day.

‘But what about this last bit,’ he hedged. ‘Do you?’

‘Do I what?’

‘Love me?

Chapter Text

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Draco looked at her earnestly as he repeated his question. ‘Do you love me, Hermione?’

‘I… We’ve gotten close since…’

He took her hands in his, the letters crumpling between them. ‘I like you. Don’t get me wrong, Hermione, I do like you, but…’

‘But not like that, right?’ He nodded and she breathed a sigh of relief. ‘You’re like a brother to me, Draco. I really feel like I can tell you anything…well, almost anything. A girl is entitled to her secrets, right?’

‘So you’re not disappointed?’

‘No!’ she exclaimed a little too enthusiastically. ‘Sorry. It’s like I said, I like you, but not like that. I mean, you’re still a right foul git when you want to be,’ she joked.

‘Well, you’re still a swotty little know it all!’ The two laughed together, then took their respective letters and began a slow walk back into the castle.

‘Why did you do it then?’

‘Do what?’

‘Talk to the Minister about my father? If not for me, then why? It’s not as if he’s ever been anything but completely dreadful toward you…’

‘Everyone deserves a second chance at happiness, yes? Even Lucius Malfoy?’

The subject was dropped and the two went about their regular day, Hermione contemplative and Draco so happy that he was scaring the first year Hufflepuffs. The next morning at breakfast, the Daily Prophets came in sporting a headline that “Notorious Death Eater Lucius Malfoy” had been released from Ministry custody. The article didn’t give specifics of why he was held so long without a trial, save from him being a Death Eater, but someone got correct that Hermione had been to see the Minister “mere hours” before the “right hand of evil” was miraculously let off scot free. Speculation ran wild in the magical paper as to what Hermione must have done in order to have the man freed, and also wondering why she’d wanted him freed in the first place. It was a joke of an article.

While she was reading, two things happened seemingly simultaneously: an owl swooped in and dropped a letter right on top of the paper Hermione was reading, and Ron Weasley came barreling into the Great Hall. The ginger wizard began screaming her name as she picked up the letter. Opening it, she read its brief contents:

’We should talk.

Love, Andy

‘Hermione!’ Yelled Ron, now standing practically on top of her as she sat. ‘Are you deaf? Why aren’t you answering me?’

Hermione looked up at him, looked around the Great Hall, and noticed that he was making a huge scene. ‘Let’s take this somewhere else.’

‘No! We’ll talk here! One Malfoy not good enough for you? Need to bust out another so you can have your own Death Eater collection? Honestly, Mione! Thank Merlin I didn’t marry you!’

‘You’re being absurd! Just calm down and let’s go somewhere else to talk rationally. You’ll see –‘

‘I’ll tell you what I’ll see: I’ll see a girl who would barely kiss me spreading her legs for every Slytherin she can find!’

Draco spoke up. ‘That’s enough, Weasel. Why don’t you calm down and –‘

‘Stay out of this, Malfoy.’

‘Ron,’ Hermione said in the calmest voice she could muster, ‘Let’s take a walk.’

‘Why? So you can try and seduce me like you have the others? No way! What would I want with a whore anyway?’

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a jet of red light rent the air and Ron fell into a heap on the floor. Professor McGonagall walked up beside Hermione, wand held loosely in her hand, and tutted. ‘Sorry, my dear. I would have silenced him earlier, but there was no clear shot. My apologies for allowing him to continue on as long as he did.’

McGonagall levitated Ron’s stunned body and began to lead him out of the Great Hall. When she reached the door, Harry Potter appeared. He was breathless, like he’d run a marathon to get there. His eyes went from McGonagall to Ron to Hermione and back a few times before shaking his head in disbelief.

‘Sorry, Hermione. I went to the Burrow first to try and head him off after reading the article. I’d no idea he’d be up this early and I came here as soon I realized.’

‘It’s alright. We all know how hot headed and quick to temper he is.’ Then she joked, ‘At least he didn’t throw any hexes!’

Harry laughed with her before taking control of Ron from the Headmistress. He promised to take him somewhere to cool down, and then quietly promised Hermione that he would slap the snot out of him when he finally woke up. His parting shot to Hermione was that they really did need to talk and that he would be owling her to work something out. She hugged him and watched as he left, the unconscious body of their friend floating behind him.

‘Who’s Andy?’ Draco asked behind her, making her jump.

‘Someone I haven’t spoken to in a very long time…’

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

Being Hermione Granger did have its perks. A few days after the incident with Ron in the Great Hall, she found herself at a corner booth inside of The Three Broomsticks, waiting for a woman she hadn’t seen in…quite a while. When Andromeda Tonks walked in a few minutes after she had, Hermione had to stop herself from screaming. The older witch was almost a spitting image of the crazy woman who’d cut up her arm and almost killed her. Then she took a breath and smiled, welcoming her old friend as if no time had passed.

‘Hermione!’ the older witch breathed as the two women embraced. ‘You look exactly the same as I remember you from our youth!’

‘Your youth.’

‘Will you tell me?’

The two women ordered drinks, and eventually food, as Hermione told her tale. She spoke of the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, flying back into the case of Time Turners, and ending up in 1971. Her story included waking up and basically being told to shut up until Dumbledore got there, and then creating a backstory for her to be able to continue her education while the Unspeakables worked out a way to send her forward in time without killing her. It wasn’t her idea, nor her choice, to be sorted into Slytherin, a fact they both chuckled over now, knowing that she was a Gryffindor. She’d said that she wanted to go unnoticed, to simply fade into the background and exist without having any effect on events.

‘Well, that didn’t work out too well for you, did it? First off, all the boys recognized your beauty. All the girls were jealous of the exotic new witch from France. Hell, even Rabastan took to teasing you and he only did that with the girls he respected!’

‘What? What do you mean?’

‘If you weren’t something special, he would have simply come on to you and gotten you into bed. The fact that he would joke around with you meant that he really wanted to be friends and not just a one night thing. And the only reason the other girls didn’t curse you in your sleep was because they all had marriage contracts to men you showed absolutely no interest in.’

‘…except for your sister,’ Hermione finished lamely. ‘God I thought Narcissa was going to murder me toward the end of my time with you! The things she would say to me!’

‘Yeah. You wouldn’t know it from looking at her, but Narcissa is actually rather insecure.’

‘No!’ came Hermione’s astonished reply.

‘Oh yes! She was almost always being told that the only thing she was good for was linking the Black and Malfoy families. She wasn’t as strong as Bellatrix, she wasn’t as physically beautiful as me,’ Hermione scoffed and facetiously accused Andromeda of vanity, ‘at least according to our father. You know, I was beautiful once!’

‘Were you really?’ Hermione joked.

‘Oh yes! When I was a baby, I was quite the stunner! Seriously, though, Narcissa was never good enough, so when she got to Hogwarts and saw how wealthy and handsome Lucius was, she knew that she’d have to dig in in order to keep her hold. And then you showed up and she got nervous.’

The witches fell quiet for a few moments as the conversation threatened to turn to the one topic Hermione wanted to avoid for now. She took a sip of her butterbeer and tried to think of something else to talk about. Stalling was her number one goal.

‘What happened to the others? I mean, I know what happened to the boys, but what about the girls? Margie? Serendipity? Liz?

‘Liz moved to South Africa not long after finishing Hogwarts. We used to owl often, but when she discovered I’d married Ted, that ended. Something about being a blood traitor. Margie and Serendipity were killed in the first war.’

Another silence fell over the girls as the dishes were cleared and pudding was served. They ate quietly for a few minutes before Andromeda addressed the giant elephant in the room.

‘Have you seen him?’

‘I’m a mudblood.’

‘He was distraught when he’d discovered you were gone. He ran to Dumbledore and demanded to know where you’d gone. When that didn’t work, he’d tried to owl you, but all of the owls came back undelivered. So many times he said that he wished he could hate you, but he loved you too much. In front of the entirety of Slytherin house, Lucius Malfoy proclaimed his love for you in the hopes that someone, anyone, knew how to reach you. My heart broke for him that day. Unfortunately, that was also the reason he threw himself into his service for You Know Who. Said he needed to feel again.’

Hermione was in tears. Instead of staying to the shadows and not making an impact, she turned a loving and kind man into the heartless Death Eater he’d become. She agreed to meet with Andromeda again, perhaps to talk about old times, but mostly to rekindle their friendship, and then parted ways. The entire slow walk back to Hogwarts was fraught with sobs and second guesses. Sure, she was happy that he wasn’t wasting away in the bowels of the Ministry, but at the same time, if he hated her what could she possibly gain from it? Her hopes in the past were to simply get by unnoticed. Then she’d had to go and fall in love with Lucius fracking Malfoy.

Draco was happy that his father was home. That should be enough of a reason for Hermione to justify setting the man free. But what about when Lucius saw the article? Would he call her on it? Would he owl and ask why she did it? Did he even realize that she was the same Hermione Granger he’d come to know all those years ago? Did he care?

When she walked back across the flagstones of the castle, she used her sleeve to dry her tears and cast a charm to get rid of the puffiness and bloodshot state of her eyes. She took two steps toward Gryffindor tower before she heard the familiar laugh of Draco Malfoy. Smiling to herself, she promised to have a go at him later for his boisterous attitude, but then she heard a deeper laugh. A laugh that went right to her core.

‘Hermione!’ Draco called out to her. ‘Come meet my father!’

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY

Her blood ran cold. Meet his father? Seriously? She kept telling herself over and over that he didn’t know. Draco had no idea. Lucius hadn’t told his only son, his heir, about the girl he once knew. He’d kept it to himself. …probably just another sign that he truly hated her.

‘Now, now, Draco. Miss Granger obviously has other places to be right now.'

‘Come off it, Father. Don’t you want to thank the witch who made your being here possible?’

‘Indeed,’ was his simple and multifaceted reply.

Hermione turned on the steps and walked back toward the Malfoy men. She noticed that Draco was a couple of inches taller than his father. He was also a bit stockier, but that may have something to do with the elder Malfoy’s living arrangements for the previous seven months or so. Now that he was free, Hermione was sure his elves would get him good and fed and back to a healthy weight in no time. She could already see the way his frame would fill out his rich robes.

‘Granger? You alright there?’

She was embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming, but admitted that her mind was temporarily elsewhere. She and Lucius shook hands as Draco made what he called “new introductions” between them. Then Lucius did the unthinkable and asked Draco for a few minutes to thank Hermione privately for her role in his liberation. Draco agreed, citing a book he needed to return to the library, and promised to owl his father soon. Then the men shared a surprisingly heartfelt hug goodbye before Draco ran off and Lucius turned to Hermione.

‘We meet again, Miss Granger.’

‘Mr Malfoy,’ she said, following his cue for formality.

‘Perhaps we can go someplace a bit less exposed?’

Hermione led them down the hall into an unused classroom. The room still bore faint signs of the fighting that had taken place the previous May, but neither seemed to care. Lucius turned toward the door and cast a few charms. He warded the door from anyone who would seek to interrupt them, cast a silencing charm, and then he turned to face her. They stared at one another for a solid three minutes before Hermione broke the silence.

‘Mr Malfoy, no thanks are needed. I was just doing what any decent person would have done under similar circumstances.’

‘That’s not true, Hermione, and you know it,’ he replied rather sternly. ‘No one else would have come to my aid, nor should they have. I’m not a good man. The only reason Draco was attempting to help me is because my incarceration at the Ministry meant the Malfoy vaults were all frozen. That would only change if I was freed or if I was sent to Azkaban.'

‘He loves you, you know. He truly does. It was as if a weight was lifted from him when we received the letters that you were freed. I’ve never seen him look so young, and that’s saying a great deal since I’ve known him since we were eleven! Joy like that isn’t faked. You mean the world to him.’

‘And what of you?’

‘Me? Well, I know he and I are friends, but we’ve made it perfectly clear that… Why are you laughing?'

‘You really think I care what my son thinks of you? I already know the answer to that! He calls you “Hermione” for Merlin’s sake!’ He calmed his laughter and spoke again in a softer tone. ‘What happened between us, I can’t even begin to fathom. I wished to speak with you not because you were pivotal in my freedom, but because I need to understand how we came to even be.’

Hermione sighed deeply before speaking. ‘I’m sure you remember the battle in the Ministry when you came for the Prophesy?’ Lucius nodded, and Hermione told the simple tale of how she’d been knocked back into a cabinet of Time Turners. That was how she ended up in the past. She explained how she just wanted to go about her time until she could come home, and that she was trying her best to not be noticed.

‘Well, you did a bang-up job on that one, didn’t you?’ Lucius joked.

She continued on with her story, finishing when they’d spent the night together. ‘I knew you would hate me in the morning. I knew that I was essentially using you, but I didn’t care. I needed to be with you that night. Leaving you, walking away and knowing you were laying in that bed naked and accepting… It broke my heart. I don’t know if you realized, but I charmed my scent from you and the entire room. I didn’t want to make it harder than I already knew it was going to be. Andy told me recently of what I left in my wake, and I have to say that I’m not proud of myself. I wish I could… If I could have… You deserved better than anything I ever gave you… I was so afraid…’

Hermione’s voice dissolved as tears overtook her. She knew that she’d already cried too much over this man. Her mother always told her that any man worth having would never make you cry, but that seemed to be all she was doing. Turning away from him, she walked toward the windows and looked out over the grounds. His arms came around her, surprising her. She’d not even heard him approach.

‘Don’t cry,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘It’s all over now. You’ve nothing to fear any longer.’

‘What are you doing here, Lucius? Shouldn’t you be with your wife and son, celebrating your freedom, eating and drinking to excess? Enjoying your pureblood status instead of chatting up the Mudblood who ruined your life?’ She meant the words to be acidic, but her tone was weak and weary, as if all the fight had gone from her.

‘I saw you leave the Great Hall that day, after the final battle, and realized that we were both mere observers in the misery and healing of others around us. Even with my freedom, nothing really matters anymore. I have no purpose. Draco is safe, my wife is-‘

‘Your wife? Your WIFE Lucius? Do you have any idea how wrong this is for you to be here with me, a child, while your wife sits in the comfort of your grand manor and waits for you? Does she have any idea what kind of man you are? Does she know about us? About the things that you promised me in the darkest hours of the night? Is she aware of the words we’ve shared? The things we’ve done?’

Lucius merely looked at her, removing his hands from her person but not saying a word in reply.

‘You said that so long as you were living, no harm would come to me. When I told you that you shouldn’t make promises that you had no way of keeping, you told me that you loved me and that you would always do your best to keep me safe.  And do you know what? I believed you because I loved you too! Yet you stood there and watched while that sadistic bitch of a sister-in-law of yours tortured me in your drawing room! Hell, more than that, you said my name as if I meant nothing to you, and for what? To increase your standing with that madman? You knew-‘

‘I knew that if the Dark Lord came and Potter was found at my home, then he would grant me a boon.’

‘You were cowardly, Lu… Mr Malfoy. Your cowardice nearly cost me my life.’

‘And you know as well as I do what would have happened had I stepped in,’ he spat, becoming genuinely angry. ‘Bella would have killed Draco, not me. She would have killed him as a lesson to me. You saw what I was reduced to! I know you did. I am sorry for the way things happened, but my son had to come first.’ As he turned to walk away, he left her with one last thought. ‘Someday, when you have children of your own, you will understand.’

Hermione turned to look at him, but his back was to her as he retreated. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she’d heard a slight hitch in his voice when he mentioned her having children.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

‘What did you say to Father yesterday?’

Hermione was caught off guard at breakfast the next morning, as Draco sat next to her and scowled. She really didn’t know how to answer him, so she pretended to be chewing some food. As a rule, she didn’t talk with food in her mouth.

‘Oh cut the crap, Granger. I know you haven’t eaten anything in at least a couple of minutes. I’ve been watching, trying to figure out the best way to find out what the hell happened yesterday! When I left you, sure there was tension, but I never expected your meeting to come to anger. Father was beside himself when he Floo called me last night! That was hours after you two spoke! What in the name of Merlin’s pantaloons happened?'

She was at a loss. Should she tell him the truth? Lie? How did one tell someone they’d only recently become friends with that they’d had a Time Turner accident, gone back to when their father was in school, and fallen in love? Then when time caught up with them, they’d realized that they never should have gotten together in the first place? That she’d known they shouldn’t have gotten together and yet she’d still allowed it to happen? And that his father was now apparently furious with her enough to tell his son that he was mad at her but not tell him why? Oh, what a mess she was in.

She took the temporarily easy way out. ‘I think your father was expecting something more from our conversation. I’m afraid that I didn’t have the answers he was looking for to the questions he had. When he calms down, I’m sure he’ll feel better about our meeting.’

There. That wasn’t a lie, per se. It was simply an avoidance of truth…kind of. Draco seemed to accept her explanation, but she could tell that he would need more answers at another time. For now, he let sleeping dogs lie and they went about their day.

A few weeks later, Draco received an owl from his family’s solicitor. Hermione, who was sitting across from him like usual, watched the play of emotions on his face. When he was finished with the letter, he simply handed it to her and got up to leave. He walked away as she read over the missive, realizing why he hadn’t said a word

Mr Draco Malfoy,

It is the duty of this firm to inform you that your presence is required within the next 72 hours in order to settle the transition of the estate of one Mr Lucius Malfoy to one Mr Draco Malfoy. Pending the dissolution of the marriage between Mr Lucius Malfoy and Mrs Narcissa Malfoy neé Black, all assets of said estate shall transfer to Mr Draco Malfoy. Therefore, we will need you to….

The letter continued on with some legal jargon, but Hermione had caught the point of the message: Lucius and Narcissa were getting a divorce, and Draco would be taking over as the head of the Malfoy family. She knew from her conversations in the past that the transferring of estates only happened when the head of house died or had decided to leave the family and fade into obscurity.

She almost dropped the letter in her haste to go after Draco. He’d already been gone from the Great Hall for a couple of minutes, so he really could have been anywhere. Fortunately for Hermione, her first thought of where to find him happened to coincide with where he actually was. Walking toward the back of the library, she swore she heard the telltale sniffles of someone who was crying. When she turned the corner to see him sitting at their table, no tears were visible.

‘Did you know this was coming?’ she asked him.

‘No,’ came his stunned response. ‘Mother and Father always seemed so happy together. I mean, I know their marriage wasn’t a love match, but they appeared to be so content with one another.’

‘You knew their marriage was arranged?’ she asked, the surprise evident in her tone.

‘Most pureblood marriages are. Had he wanted to marry for love, there was a girl he used to speak of often, that I’m almost certain he’d thought I’d figured was Mother. From what I’d gathered, she was only at Hogwarts for one school year, but she’d made an impression on him. I heard Mother talking about her once. Called her a swotty little French girl who only wished to take what didn’t belong to her. Father said that they were in the same year, and that she and Mother never interacted. There wasn’t much further information that I could get. Almost seems as if Father wanted to forget her.’ Draco laughed. ‘Actually, there was one thing he would say, a habit he claims to have picked up from her that he only does when he’s particularly pissed and melancholy: he tries writing her a letter.’

Hermione was confused. ‘He picked up letter writing from her?’

‘No!’ he chuckled. ‘Every time he would attempt to pen something to send her, he would crumble it up and throw it in the fire. He swore nothing he wrote was good enough.’

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Hermione sat in her room many hours later pondering the events of the day. She had sat with Draco while he made the appropriate arrangements to take over the Malfoy family fortune. Utilizing the Floo Network, they had gone together, at Draco’s request, while he signed the paperwork. The solicitor inquired as to whether Hermione and Draco were courting and the pair laughed so hard that the solicitor became offended. When they’d returned to Hogwarts, Draco thanked Hermione for her support, but said he needed to be alone. He gave her a rare hug, holding tight for a few moments before releasing her and heading down to the dungeons. Now she was sat on her bed wondering what was going to happen next.

Her relationship with Ron was over. There was no doubt about that. The silver lining to that particular cloud was the letter she’d received from Molly and Arthur Weasley not one hour after Harry had removed Ron from the school grounds. They’d told her that no matter what, she would always be welcome at the Burrow. Family didn’t always mean blood and though she’d never be a Weasley in name, she would always be one in heart. It was a weight off of her shoulders that she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying, especially since her attempts at finding her own parents were for naught.

She had no prospects of a relationship at Hogwarts. How could she? Between her studies and rebuilding the castle, she was stretched thin. Add into that her friendship with Draco and all that entailed and she had even less time. She was certain that the next time she was at The Burrow, Molly would attempt to set her up with one of her other sons. The thought was laughable, as they were big brothers to her. …except for Charlie. She had such a huge crush on Charlie for the longest time, but would never admit it to anyone. Besides, she knew for a fact that he was seeing a very handsome dragon tamer named Edvard.

The sound of tapping on her tower window roused her from wondering what would happen next. Confused, she walked to the window and threw it open. The owl that dropped a letter on her bed and immediately took flight could only be described as haughty. It glared at her as if to show its displeasure at being sent out on a delivery this late in the evening. Hermione picked up the missive as the owl flew from her sight.

Hermione, the letter began. I hope this letter finds you in happier spirits than those I left you in that day. My wish for you has always been happiness. I have few regrets in my life, but allowing harm to come to you under my watch and in my own home ranks right beside getting my son involved with the Dark Lord for the biggest of them all. I have given you my reasons and it is my hope that someday you will come to forgive me.

I cannot regret the time we had together, nor would I change the eventual outcome, for as much as I love you, there was no way that you could have given me Draco. He has been my light through many dark times and though his mother and I were not a marriage borne from love, I will always hold a place in my heart for her simply for giving Draco to me. After all, it is because of him that you and I first came to meet. Had he not been born when he was, had he not needed to go to Flourish and Blotts that day…

I digress. Narcissa and I have completed a magical dissolution of our marriage vows. The rituals required to do so have left me temporarily weak and maudlin, and hence I find myself unable to resist contacting you. My initial plan had been to simply leave Wiltshire, leave the island, and fade into obscurity with what little pride I have left. But leaving you to not know…

My heart breaks every time I remember your voice and I am not able to be with you. My heart breaks every time I hear your name. My heart breaks every time I think of you, and my heart breaks every time I dream of you. But I am old, or at least old enough to be your father.

I am a selfish man, Hermione, selfish enough to have wanted to keep you for my own and never allow another to set eyes upon your perfection. Selfish enough that when I lost you in 1972, I wanted to rain down fire upon the world just to bring you back. Time may have changed a lot of me, but not that. I will always be selfish and right now that is my driving instinct.

By the time you’ve reached this part of my letter to you, I will already be well on my way into seclusion. Please don’t attempt to contact me. Only two people know my final destination: one of them is me and the other is not you. My most sincere apologies, but as I’ve said, I’m selfish. I wish to retain the broken bits of my heart and live out my life remembering what we had while I was youthful, vibrant, and untainted by the darkness that the Dark Lord brought into my life.

With all my love,

~L

Hermione read the letter again and again, completely in denial over the words before her, hoping every time her eyes scanned the parchment that the words would change. Somewhere deep inside, she’d hoped that he would come back for her now that he and Narcissa were separated. What a fool she was. There was a headache brewing behind her eyes, so she decided to call it a night. Placing the missive under her pillow, she went to sleep and dreamed of Lucius.

The next morning, Hermione read the letter again, her denial over the words morphing into anger at his cowardice. By the time she found Draco in the Great Hall, she was completely livid. He asked her what was wrong, but when she opened her mouth to answer, she came up short. How could she explain the letter she’d gotten? Oh, I’m sorry, Draco, she thought, but your father owled me to say he was leaving the country, that he loves me, but he’s too much of a chicken to be with me. Yeah. That would go over well. She decided to just play it off as women’s issues and he immediately left it alone. Most men backed off when a girl mentioned their monthly menses.

They went to class with her anger still simmering on the surface of her emotions. Everyone steered clear of her except for Draco, who was running interference on those who dared to get too close and ask what she deemed to be dumb questions. When Ginny Weasley came to her for relationship advice shortly after lunch, Hermione fairly exploded onto her friend. She screamed about how every relationship she’d ever been in had been a disaster, yelled at the younger girl that even if she did have advice, she wasn’t keen on discussing the sex life of one of her best friends, and then when she went to storm off, her bag slipped from her shoulder. The contents spilled all across the Charms corridor but instead of screaming about it like they all thought she would, she broke down into tears. She got to her knees and began picking up her books, parchments, and quills. Ginny and Draco moved to help her, but the rest of the students nearby took it as their cue to leave and not become the focus of Hermione’s next emotional outburst.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

Draco came into supper looking a little green in his face. He sat down across from Hermione, put food onto his plate, but really didn’t eat much. She noticed that he looked like he wanted to say something, but every time he went to open his mouth, he would snap it closed and shake his head. Finally, when Hermione was about finished, Draco asked if they could go somewhere private to talk. She agreed, and led him up to the seventh floor.

‘I know the school’s come a long way,’ he said, ‘but I seriously doubt I’d be welcome in the Gryffindor Common Room.’

‘That’s not where we’re going.’

They stopped before a blank stretch of wall and Draco understood. The door appeared, and the pair went inside. The room was set up like a small study. There were chairs, a low table, bookshelves, and a hearth. The fire was already throwing off heat, so Hermione sat on the floor behind the table and dug out her Transfiguration notes in order to work on an essay they had due. Draco still wasn’t saying much, merely standing near the door and gaping a bit, his mouth opening and closing like a fish’s would. She set to work, but after only a few lines, she crumpled the paper and threw it into the fire. Another draft met the same fate mere minutes later, and then a third before she saw Draco move into her line of sight, fury on his face.

‘I didn’t want to believe it,’ he whispered.

‘What are you talking about?’

He didn’t answer her. He simply held up a folded bit of parchment with a familiar scrawl on it. She swallowed. He knew. She knew that he knew, and evidently, he wasn’t too pleased.

‘Draco,’ she began, getting to her feet and putting her hands in front of her in a motion begging him to wait before he jumped to conclusions. ‘Calm down, Draco. It’s not what you think.’

‘No, it couldn’t be, now could it?’ he seethed. ‘The girl Father loved was his age! His age! Not mine! There’s no way!’

‘Draco,’ she tried again, but he cut her off.

‘You don’t get to talk right now. My parents divorced. They divorced, Granger! That shit doesn’t happen often in our world! Not at all, not ever! This isn’t like your world. When people vow to be together, they are until death! Who the hell do you think you are to try and convince my father that you’re the girl of his dreams? What are you playing at? Was it a potion? A spell? How’d you do it? How did a mud-‘

For the second time in her life, Hermione hit Draco. The echo of the slap radiated around the small room, the stone walls seeming to magnify the sound. He stared at her for a moment, both of them a bit shocked at her actions, and then she spoke.

‘Oh no you don’t, Draco Malfoy. You do not get to use that word with me! Not now…not after everything…’ She began to cry. ‘This was never my intention. None of this.’

He was still angry, though his tone was a bit more forgiving. ‘Explain this to me. Explain this,’ he added, holding up the letter from his father.

‘I wonder,’ Hermione said, closing her eyes and concentrating. Almost immediately the room began to change. The fireplace stayed, but the table, chairs, and bookshelves disappeared. In the middle of the room, a stone pillar sprung from the floor, stopping at about four feet tall, and holding a pensieve on top. Hermione smiled and pulled out her wand. ‘Just give me a minute. You can see for yourself.’

She pulled quite a few memories from her mind, the first being the Battle in the Department of Mysteries and her being knocked back into the cabinet of Time Turners. She then let him see a bit of her conversation with the Unspeakables and Dumbledore, before flashing ahead to meeting Lucius on the train. Allowing him to view the entire interaction, she then bounced him between moments in the Slytherin Common Room, the classrooms, and other areas of the grounds. While she never let him see their more intimate moments, she made certain he understood that they were falling for each other, even despite Hermione’s obvious attempts to keep her distance. He saw when Hermione realized she loved Lucius. When Lucius had referred to her as his love outside of the Common Room. Secret smiles. Stolen glances. The conversation after Lucius had taken the Dark Mark. The fight in The Three Broomsticks. Him asking her, begging her, to stay with him. To give him one night…

Draco came up from the pensieve, looked at her, and backed away. ‘I need… I need to think.’

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

It took a week before Draco talked to her again. They ate meals at opposite ends of the Great Hall. Hermione had taken to sitting by herself at the end of the Gryffindor table while Draco always came in late and only stayed long enough to shove food in his mouth in a way that strangely reminded her of Ron Weasley. He would leave just as quickly as he arrived and he never spared her a glance.

The morning he decided to speak to her, he came in only a minute after she’d sat down. He sat and stared at her for long minutes, not saying anything, but simply watching. When it became obvious that she was waiting for him, he spoke.

‘Time Turners?’ She nodded. ‘How many?’

‘I’m not sure. I only know that the Ministry no longer has any. They were all destroyed that day, during that battle.'

‘Was Hogwarts really that different?’ At her confused look, he went on. ‘You had access to Slytherin House. How?’

Hermione chuckled. ‘I must have forgotten that bit. They resorted me. Put me in Slytherin. Shocked me more than I care to admit, thank you very much.’

Draco looked at her, possibly trying to picture her in Slytherin robes. He shook his head, seeming to think better of it, and stared at her again.

‘Look,’ Hermione began, ‘I know it’s a lot to take in, but –‘

‘It is. Unfortunately, having seen for myself from Father and in your memories, I can’t deny it. It’s unconventional, but undeniable. It just leaves one question: do you still love him?’

She sighed. ‘It doesn’t matter…unless…’ Hermione began to get excited. Her voice and eyebrows ticked up a bit as she spoke. ‘Do you know where he is? Do you know how I can reach him? Draco! Please! I-‘

‘I don’t. I’m sorry, Hermione, really I am, but the other person he mentioned in his note to you is not me. I’m guessing it’s one of his financial people at Gringotts. It’s the only logical choice. I mean, how else would he have means to live?’

‘I wish he wouldn’t have left,’ admitted Hermione.

‘Don’t worry. We’ll find him eventually. He isn’t the type of man who can stay in the shadows for long.’

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Hermione and Draco regained their friendship and finished Hogwarts the top two in their class. Both excelled in their N.E.W.T.s and got ready to join the workforce. Hermione was excited to get started helping to reform the outdated laws regarding magical creatures and Draco was going to take up an apprenticeship at St Mungo’s. He hoped to be a Healer. Before either of them began to blaze their own trails, they went on a holiday together. The press had a field day with the trip, printing pictures of the two laying on the beach together, taking meals together, and even leaving their private villa holding hands. Neither were bothered by it, as they knew they were just friends. Parvati Patil, on the other hand, swore on the name of Merlin himself that she saw the odd pair kissing on more than one occasion.

They enjoyed a good three weeks on the French Riviera, drinking, eating, and just enjoying each other’s company. Toward the end of the trip, Draco reconnected with Astoria Greengrass and the two hit it off. Seeing that she was about to become the third wheel, Hermione packed her things and enjoyed one last lunch with the new couple before taking a Muggle airplane back to London. She used the last week of her break before starting at the Ministry to find a flat and reacquaint her body with some sort of a normal sleep schedule.

The morning she was to start, she sat down at her newly purchased kitchen table and began to enjoy her breakfast. Just as she was buttering her toast, the news owl arrived with her issue of the Daily Prophet. She almost spit out her coffee when she unfolded it and saw none other than Lucius Malfoy with some buxom blonde on his arm. Pain lanced through her chest as she threw the paper from the table, transfigured her table mug into a travel one for her coffee, and left her building. A few days later, another picture of the wizard appeared, this time with a leggy redhead. Every couple of days, pictures of Lucius Malfoy would grace the society pages of the Daily Prophet. Sometimes he was with the same woman for a few consecutive stories, but it never seemed to take long for him to move on. There was much speculation when the same woman kept appearing alongside him. She was almost as tall as he was, hair a similar blonde, and her thin body and large breasts were often seen pressed into his side. The press was having a field day, claiming she was to be the next Lady Malfoy.

Along the same vein, the Prophet never once featured any articles or pictures of Draco and Astoria. Hermione knew that the two were getting close. Draco had come to her only last week to ask her opinion on the younger witch. Hermione, having gotten to know the girl in the six months since she had Draco had come back from France, gave Draco a glowing review. He replied to her saying that he was thinking of asking Astoria to marry him. Hermione was happy for him, for them, and even assisted Draco in his preparation for the night he would propose. If the press really wanted to see the next official Lady Malfoy, all they needed to do was to go to Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor later that night. There they would see Draco Malfoy get down on one knee and pull a family ring from his pocket.

Hermione couldn’t help but be happy for Draco and Astoria, but when the Prophet arrived the next morning with only images of the older Malfoy and gossip, she was frustrated. She’d thought she’d gone through all five stages of grief over losing Lucius, but apparently seeing him again even in print was making her start all over. Draco did his best to keep her on an even keel, but it was difficult. Between them both working, his new engagement, and her willingness to simply sulk and watch Muggle movies, he really wasn’t reaching her. She was falling into a depression that Draco was hard pressed to bring her out of.

About two months after Draco’s engagement, news of the couple's upcoming nuptials finally reached the public ear. There was a rather tasteful piece in the Daily Prophet about Draco and Astoria, but there was also a piece by Parvati Patil that speculated on how Hermione felt, being the jilted lover. Hermione was enjoying her lunch in the Ministry cafeteria and laughing to herself at the piece by her former housemate when a shadow fell over her paper. Looking up, she found herself staring into the familiar green eyes of Harry Potter. Next to him was Ron.

‘Mind if we join you?’ Harry asked.

After she moved her things around to make room for Harry and Ron, the two boys sat and began to eat their lunches. It was awkward for a few minutes, no one really knowing what to say, but Ron finally began to talk.

‘Listen. I know I’m a prat. I know it shouldn’t have taken me this long to talk to you after what I did back at Hogwarts, but just the thought of you and Malfoy…’ Ron trailed off and gave a shudder. Hermione and Harry both laughed before Hermione let Ron off the hook.

‘I know you don’t believe me, but Draco and I were never together. He’s my friend, like you’re my friend and like Harry is my friend. When I got back to school-‘

‘I get it,’ Ron interrupted. ‘I can’t imagine what it must have been like, going back there after everything… It took me a while, and a lot of help from Harry and Ginny…and mum… But I get it. Malfoy understood.’

Hermione smiled, stood up, and went around the table to hug Ron. It was almost like coming home from that year on the run. She knew she was finally safe, finally with her friends, and maybe even where she needed to be. Where she was meant to be.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

Spring was upon them, and Hermione was helping Astoria put the finishing touches on her wedding. The event was to be held the following day on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Hermione was serving as Best Mate to Draco, who’d opted to have her stand as witness for him as opposed to one of his male friends. As far as Draco was concerned, Hermione was a better friend to him than any of the boys he grew up with ever were. That automatically made her the most important person to him at his wedding…aside from his future bride.

Draco found Hermione in one of the guest rooms near his suite and knocked. She bade him enter and he sat on the edge of her bed and put his head in his hands.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

‘If you want to leave, I’ll understand.’

Hermione was perplexed. ‘Why would I want to leave?’

‘Father is here. He arrived about fifteen minutes ago.’

‘Is he…’ She swallowed. ‘I mean, is there any…’ She couldn’t get the words out.

‘No. He’s not alone.’ Draco paused, staring at Hermione who was staring at the floor. ‘I mean it. If you want to go –‘

That shook her from her stupor. ‘I’m here for you, Draco. You and Astoria. Your father won’t keep me away. Wild dogs couldn’t keep me away!’

He hugged her and kissed her softly on the cheek. ‘I love you, Hermione. I know it isn’t the same, but I do love you. Without you… I don’t even want to think where I’d be if I hadn’t sat with you that day in the library.’

‘I love you too, Draco. Now get out of here so I can get my beauty sleep!’ She laughed, he chuckled, and the two hugged one last time before he left her room for the night.

The next morning, Draco and Astoria were married under a rising sun in front of twenty of their closest friends and family. Hermione kept close to the bride and groom and did her best to keep her eyes away from the groom’s father. It was easier, being Draco’s Best Mate, as any time she thought she felt Lucius getting close, she would excuse herself to complete some fictitious wedding duties. By the time the meal was over, the last song played, and the bride and groom ready to leave for their honeymoon, Hermione was exhausted. She hugged both Draco and Astoria, and the second they’d Apparated away, she found herself face to face with the one man she’d hoped to avoid.

‘Mr Malfoy,’ she began, looking anywhere but at him. ‘Draco was happy that you were able to make it today. He wasn’t certain you got the invitation, as it kept coming back with the owl.’

‘There’s no place I’d rather be today.’ He looked around for a moment before he spoke again, his voice a whisper on the wind. ‘Can we talk? I mean, privately?’

‘Lucius!’ came the call of the blonde who accompanied him to the wedding. ‘There you are! I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.’

‘Sonya, I was just talking to-‘

‘You’re Hermione Granger! Oh my! I’ve read so much about you! Sonya Axelsson. What a pleasure to meet you!’

‘Pleasure to-‘

Hermione was cut off when the blonde witch turned to Lucius and began making plans for their own wedding, spouting possible dates but saying that this was the perfect location. Hermione excused herself, Apparating back into her room in the Manor, gathering her things, and leaving before Lucius tracked her down and embarrassed her again.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

She was alone again. Draco was gone on his honeymoon. Harry and Ron had finished Auror training and were now in the field somewhere. She was alone. Surely, she thought, she had to have more than just a couple of friends, but the funny thing about depression is that it makes you feel completely isolated. You know you have problems and that you should talk to someone, but there’s a niggling voice deep inside of you that convinces your brain that you’d be nothing but a burden.

So she kept to herself. If she wasn’t at the Ministry, she was alone in her flat. More pictures surfaced of Lucius with Sonya Axelsson, more speculation on when there would be wedding bells. Logically, Hermione noted that there was no ring on the older witch’s finger. There had been no engagement announcement in the social pages. Hermione also noted that Lucius never seemed overly thrilled at being photographed with the leggy witch. Depression was a funny thing, though.

By the time Draco returned, Hermione had lost a stone. Her hair was lank, and her flat was a mess. When he let himself into her flat, he found her sat on her sofa with a pint of ice cream melting in her hands. On the table before her was the Daily Prophet open to an article saying that Lucius and Sonya had purchased a property in Sweden together.

‘Granger! What in the name of Merlin’s sweaty football socks are you doing in here?’

Draco, having gotten no more than a grunt in reply, Floo’d Astoria and told her what was going on. He told her that he would be home later and to not wait on him for dinner. She understood, sent her love, and disconnected the call. Draco then stood, gathered Hermione in his arms, and carried her to the bathroom. He set her on the edge of the tub and ran the bath. Then he helped her out of her clothes and lowered her into the steaming water. She sat there, hugging her knees to her chest, as he washed her hair for her.

‘What happened, Draco? How did I get here?’ she cried into her knees.

‘Well, I did carry you…’

She splashed him with water. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it, git.’

He laughed and splashed her back before returning to rinse her hair and apply conditioner. ‘That article you had open-‘

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘You don’t have a choice. If I have to silence you, you will hear me out. He doesn’t love her. All of that, all the articles, they’re all being fed to the Prophet by Sonya. Father is one step away from filing a restraining order against her. He’s livid.’

‘Huh?’

‘He came down and gatecrashed my honeymoon' he answered, annoyance obvious in his tone. 'Said he had been trying to get ahold of you since the wedding, but was unable to find you. He was distraught. I’ve never seen him like that before.’

‘It’s alright, Draco.  You don’t have to say those things to me.  I understand the way the world works.  In fact, I would say that I know better than most the way things really go.  I don’t live in some fantasy world where the handsome aristocrat comes back for the Plain Jane girl next door.  It just doesn’t work that way, and I’m alright with it.’

‘Hermione, you can’t –‘

‘Just stop.  I mean it.  I know you think that I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself, but I’m not.  Really!’ she added at his disbelieving look.  ‘He left.  He’s gone and I know that he won’t come back for me.  I hold no delusions that a man like him would ever settle for someone like me, no matter what sort of history we share.  Hell, with all the other women out there, I wouldn’t even choose me!  He has hundreds of beautiful women throwing themselves at him, all vying for the title of Lady Malfoy.  Women with perfect hair, perfect bodies, perfect teeth…  Well, I have perfect teeth, but that’s neither here nor there.’

Draco and Hermione chuckled at her moment of humour, remembering their fourth year and the hex he had placed on her before Hermione turned serious again.  ‘I know I’m not beautiful.  Don’t get me wrong,’ she added in a rush, ‘I know I’m not ugly, but I’m nothing spectacular either.  I’m not tall and leggy, I’m not petite and dainty.  I don’t know who is related to whom and which families are the most important in our world.  Being a socialite and playing hostess at a party would drive me completely batty, and I honestly can’t see how some of those women could spend so much money on gowns and robes and jewels…’

Hermione heaved a great sigh, taking a few moments in silence to organize her thoughts and get back on point.  ‘I am nothing like the witches he’s been seen out with since your mother left. Nothing like Sonya Axelsson.  My breasts are too small, my hips too big, and my hair…’  Hermione laughed.  ‘Let’s just say that I’ve been considering just cutting it all off just to be shot of it.  I know a few straightening spells, but they don’t work well on longer, thicker hair like mine, and I don’t want to be constantly reliant on Sleekeazy's Hair Potion.  I –‘

‘You’re exactly what Father wants,’ Draco said, cutting her off.  ‘Honestly, Granger, for someone so smart, you can be really daft.  Haven’t you ever heard the phrase “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”?  Well, it applies here.’

‘Yeah. Whatever,’ came her snarky reply.

‘He’s right, love. No one is more beautiful and precious to me than you.’

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Her eyes immediately snapped to the door where Lucius stood, framed by the light coming in from the hallway. She instinctively moved to cover herself when she realized that she was naked in the bath. Lucius scoffed, Draco smirked, and Hermione demanded they both leave the room so that she could get properly cleaned and dressed. They did, and she stood up, changing her bath for a shower. After she’d washed and rinsed herself, she dried her body, wrapped her hair up in her towel, and put on her robe. She padded out to her kitchen just in time to see Draco haul off and clock his father.

‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘You may be my father, but if you hurt her again, you will never see any of your grandchildren.’

‘I understand.’

‘I don’t think you do. This woman means the world to me. She gave me my life back and I owe her everything. Had I thought it would have worked out, I would have married her long before I met Astoria again.’ Draco moved right into his father’s face. ‘Do. Not. Fuck. This. Up. She and I might be better off as friends, but I will not hesitate to defend her like a lover.’

Hermione was gobsmacked, and it must have shown on her face because when Draco turned and walked up to her, he took her in his arms. He held her tight and told her that he meant every word. Then Draco kissed her on the corner of her mouth before tucking a loose strand of hair back up into her towel.

‘I’m headed home. Don’t let him give you any shit, love. You know how to find me if you need an alibi.’

She laughed and walked Draco to the floo. With one last hug, she watched him spin out of sight in a flash of green flames before she closed the floo and returned to the kitchen. Looking at Lucius, she noticed that he had a bruise forming below his left eye. She pulled her wand to fix it but he stopped her.

‘Just leave it. I deserved worse.’

He let her apply a bag of ice to his cheek before they sat on opposite sides of the table. ‘Did you really interrupt his honeymoon?’ she asked him.

‘I couldn’t find you. My owls were coming back to me and I couldn’t very well ask your friends Potter or Weasley for your whereabouts without raising suspicions I was certain you wished to avoid.’

‘It’s a conversation long overdue.’

‘Well, you’re obviously not prepared to have it, or you would have done already. Am I right?’ She nodded. ‘The only way to ascertain your whereabouts was to find Draco. Since I knew exactly where he was, it was the easiest means to the end I wished for: you.’

‘Lucius…’

‘I was scared, my love. I still am. I’ve no idea what a beautiful thing like yourself ever saw in me. You’re genuinely a good person, caring and kind. I’ve always been a hateful and bigoted man, selfish to a fault, and yet you allowed me to get close to you. You gave me a gift I was completely unworthy of. Even knowing who I was to become you still freely gave yourself to me. I will never be able to repay your kindness.’ He got to his feet and walked around the table, falling to one knee in front of where she sat. ‘But if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.’

She didn’t know what to say. There had been a time, back when she was in the past, where she dreamed of this moment. She’d hoped that, if she would have had to stay in the 1970’s, they would have found a way out of his contract with Narcissa and been married. It would never have happened, never have worked without completely destroying history as the world now knew it, but it was a dream of hers nonetheless. And now here he was, kneeling before her with the most perfect solitaire round-cut diamond she’d ever seen.

‘It’s only one carat, but I’ve never taken you for the type of woman who desired gaudy jewels. Should you desire something larger, I can alw-‘

He was cut off when he found himself with arms full of witch. She fell into his embrace, knocking both of them over so that she ended up on top of him on her kitchen floor. She looked down into his eyes, closed the distance between them, and kissed him. She was timid at first, not sure how he would react, wondering if his kiss would still be the same after all the years that had passed between the last time they’d kissed and now, but she needn’t have worried. He let her take the lead, deepening the kiss when she realized that the love they shared before still existed between them. This was the man who completed her, the man she was destined to end up with, though she didn’t believe in fate or destiny.

‘Hermione,’ he breathed between kisses.

‘Hmm?’

‘Are you wearing anything under that robe?’

She pulled back and stared down at him, her blush speaking the truth and causing his eyes to become molten pools of lust. He rolled her over and sat back on his heels, allowing his eyes to travel over the bits of her skin that were bared to him beneath the robe. He could just make out the swell of her breasts, the creamy skin of her inner thighs. Standing, he reached a hand down and helped her to her feet.

‘I will not make love with you on a kitchen floor. It’s been too long for us and I’m not as young as I used to be.’

Hermione chuckled and allowed him to lead her toward the hallway. Then she moved in front of him and led the way to her bedroom.

He kicked the door closed and used his wand to cast a few charms to deter anyone who would possibly come into Hermione’s flat. Turning his attention back to her, it was obvious that she was both anxious and nervous. He walked closer, approaching her in a way that wouldn’t scare her off, but made clear his intentions. At the last moment before the hands that were now on her shoulders removed the robe, he stopped himself.

‘How long has it been?’ he enquired.

‘Years.’

‘No, love. Not since us. How long has it been since you’ve last been intimate with a man?’

Her eyes cast down to the floor, her face coloring in shame and mortification. ‘I… I haven’t…’

‘That’s… That’s not possible. I know you’ve been in relationships. The Weasley boy. The Bulgarian Quidditch player. Potter.’

‘Harry and I were never together. Ron and I never got past kissing. And Viktor was always too timid to do more than hold my hand.’

Lucius was in awe. ‘I don’t deserve you.’

‘Yes, you do.’

She brought her hands to her waist and untied the belt on her robe. Before she thought too much about it, she leaned up on her toes and kissed him. Her hands found the place where his tee shirt was tucked into the waistband of his trousers. In one continuous move, she broke the kiss and pulled his shirt from his body. She then went to work on his belt as he kissed all thought from her mind. When she leaned away from him to catch her breath, his mouth moved to her shoulder, following the trail of where her robe fell from her frame. Hermione grabbed his face and brought him up for another kiss. He pressed himself against her now naked form, walking her backwards until her knees met the edge of her bed.

‘Lay down, my love.’

And she did. She watched with eager eyes as he kicked off his shoes, toed off his socks, and removed his trousers. She was surprised to see that he was wearing boxer briefs under his pants and raised her eyebrows at the simple white undergarment. He muttered something about functionality before divesting himself of the offending piece of fabric.

Lucius climbed onto the bed and hovered over her, seemingly content to stare into her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her, rocking his hips up toward her center so that she could feel just how ready he was for this encounter. She threaded her fingers through his blond locks, holding his head while their tongues met in a sensual dance. His weight shifted ever so slightly and then his fingers were there. She gasped into his mouth as first one, then two fingers slid easily inside of her. His hand moved in tandem with his tongue, promises of pleasure evident in every motion.

Every nerve was beginning to stand on end. She could feel the tension building inside of her, but suddenly his hand and mouth were gone from her. Not understanding what was going on, she watched in horror as he moved down her body, kissing his way to her core. When his lips attached to her clit, she was lost, screaming out her orgasm as he tasted her. When she caught her breath, she opened her eyes to find Lucius smiling down at her.

‘That was amazing,’ she breathed. ‘I’m almost afraid to ask where you learned to do that.’

He chuckled. ‘I’ve learned a great many things since last we were together. Marry me and we can explore them together. Marry me and we can discover more.’

She sat up a bit and kissed him, tasting herself on his tongue. He groaned into her mouth as he moved between her open thighs. Breaking the kiss, his eyes met hers as he lined himself up and thrust into her, noting with satisfaction that she was even tighter than he remembered. She breathed deeply as he held himself still, allowing her body to adjust to take him. When he felt her relax a bit, he began thrusting. The pull and push of his cock inside of her was more intense than she recalled. She felt so terribly full, but at the same time, she pulled him closer with her heels, needing to feel more of him. They’d been apart for so long. So many years. Not just from when he was young and all the years that he’d had to endure without her, but the ones since she returned, the ones since she left him in that bed in the Slytherin dungeons.

She vowed in that moment to never leave him again.

They made love into the wee hours of the morning, falling asleep in each other’s arms. When they woke just before the sun came up, they began to kiss and touch for a bit before Lucius rolled Hermione on top of him, helping her to learn what brought her pleasure. He guided her down onto his shaft, allowing her time to adjust, and then directed her hips into a few different motions before she found one that gave her the most intense sensations. When she took up the pace on her own, he left her to it for a while before he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her down so that he could latch onto her breasts while she moved against him. She tried to pull back, claiming it was too much, but he was unrelenting. Instinct overtook her, and soon she was grinding against him as he alternated which nipple he would suck into his mouth.

He came with a shout, her name on his lips as he tried to hold himself inside of her while she searched for the friction she needed to come. Knowing she was close, he flopped back on the bed and reached a hand between them. Her head was thrown back as ecstasy filled her being. She screamed his name, shouting her love for him toward the heavens. Hermione collapsed onto his chest, breathing heavily and slick with sweat. The couple laid together in silence for about a half hour, breathing each other in, and enjoying the simple feel of being in each others arms again. Then he rolled her off of him, slipping out of her in the process, and moved to grab his wand.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, putting her hand over his on his wand.

‘Well, first I was going to clean us up a bit. Then I was going to cast a contraceptive charm.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m not all knowing, despite what I’d like you to believe,’ he joked. ‘Had I known that this was how our meeting last night was going to end, I would have just taken the potion. However…’

Hermione paused and lowered her eyes. ‘Well, I don’t know how you feel about children, but if we’re to be married, you should know that I want at least two.’

Lucius was silent, causing doubt to settle into her stomach over her sudden proclamation. After a few moments of continued silence, she opened her mouth as if to recant her statement, but was instead pulled close to a laughing man. Raising her eyes to his, she noted his joyous expression and a hint of tears in his eyes.

‘So that’s a yes?’ he asked her.

She smiled. ‘Yes.’

He kissed her hard, every ounce of his happiness poured into his kiss. He moved over her and before she knew what was happening, he was inside of her again. He was harder than she thought he’d been before, moving against her at a furious pace. She quickly caught his rhythm, though she struggled to keep up. As they moved together, he whispered harshly into her hair how much he loved her, how much he missed her, how he’d wished for this every single day since the moment he’d awoken to find her gone from his bed and his life. When he came, he made sure she came with him, playing her body with an expertise she couldn’t wait to explore further.

After they’d cleaned up, she donned her robe again and he pulled on his underwear. They went into her kitchen where she fixed them both breakfast. And after he picked up the ring from where it had fallen on the table the night before, he got down on one knee and did a proper proposal, sliding the one-carat solitaire onto the third finger of her left hand when she gave him an enthusiastic yes in reply. They ate quietly, stealing glances at one another. When the food was gone, she looked up at him.

‘So, this is a reality now. We're really getting married.’

‘Who said it wasn't a reality before? I love you more than anything in the world and nothing is ever going to stop me from marrying you.’

‘That sure of yourself?’ she joked before adding, ‘I love you too. I just can't believe this is really happening. I'm afraid I'm going to suddenly wake up and realize this is just another dream.’

‘Don't worry. You're definitely not dreaming.’ He took her left hand in his and played with the ring, his ring, which now adorned her slim finger. ‘I would have waited forever for you if it meant I would get to keep you for my own in the end.’

‘Lucius…’

‘I’ve told you before I’m a selfish man. And now that you’re mine…’

‘I was always yours, love. And I always will be.'

END