I was listening to Cher's "If I Could Turn Back Time", and I thought it would makes a good Dramione story. Enjoy!


Borgin & Burkes, midday, was deserted. The bell over the door jingled, alerting the short, gray-haired wizard behind the counter that a customer had just entered. He looked up, acknowledged the tall, well dressed, blonde man, and returned to the book open before him. Mr. Borgin paid the man no mind as he wandered aimlessly through the aisles.

The blonde scanned the spines of various books, no title in particular catching his interest. A green, leather bound book of spells with gold lettering across the spine caught his eye, and he pulled it from the shelf. He cracked open the leather binding and flipped past the boring front matter to get to the heart of the book. His nose buried deep in the book, he failed to notice the girl sitting in the aisle until he tripped over her. Her legs were still outstretched when he righted himself after the stumble.

"Oh, sorry about that," she said, finishing her page before closing the book. The brown haired, brown eyed witch looked up and gasped. The blonde smirked and sat down opposite her. Her eyes remained locked on the blonde as he opened his book and began to read again.

"What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" she inquired, her book completely forgotten now.

He sighed and closed the book. "Reading, Granger," he replied evenly. "I thought you of all people would recognize that."

"Still an ass," Hermione mumbled before picking her book back up. They read in silence for awhile, neither one daring to look up. Hermione pulled her legs up, giving herself an easel upon which to rest her book. Draco, for his part, kept his legs as outstretched as the aisle would allow, and on occasion, tipped his foot to the right to nudge the young witch. She paid him no mind the first few times he did it, but finally she looked up. Draco smiled impishly at her as Hermione scowled.

"Sorry, I got bored," he explained, setting down his book. "Let's trade."

"No," she replied, lifting the book high enough to block him from her vision.

"Let's talk," suggested Draco.

"No."

"Let's...get coffee."

"No."

"Granger!" His voice was whiny, but had its desired effect. She closed the book with a hard snap and glared at him.

"What, Malfoy?"

"Have you ever closed your eyes and pictured your future?" he asked. "Like your ideal future?"

Hermione huffed and pulled her legs closer to her body to wrap her arms around them. "Yes, Malfoy," she said sincerely. "My ideal future involves reading this book in peace, and not dealing with you."

She opened the book once again, but Draco had other idea. He removed the tome from her hands and set it aside with his own book. "I meant beyond the next hour or two," he clarified.

Brown eyes narrowed. "Where are you going with this?" Hermione wondered. "And why are you even talking to me?"

Draco sighed, running long fingers through his blonde locks. "What if I told you I wanted to make things better with you?"

Hermione's look was skeptical. "And why do you want to do that?"

He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. Instead he picked up his book and turned it over and over in his hands. Occasionally, he flipped through the pages, watching the blur of black type against the cream white pages. "I know I hurt you when we were in school. I was young and dumb and far too proud for my own good. I want to be able to apologize and have you accept that I'm sincere in my apology. And maybe we could be friends."

Hermione wasn't sure if she'd heard the last part of his speech correctly, but she felt the urge to laugh at her former Slytherin, Death Eater enemy.

"You don't have to laugh at me, Granger," he added sourly, noticing her expression. Quickly, she wiped the smile from her face and replaced it with a more solemn look.

"You really want to be friends? With me?"

Draco's eyes continued looking down. "Do you remember back in first year that first train ride to Hogwarts?"

Hermione nodded; she did remember. She remembered when he helped her store her heavy trunk. She remembered when he asked about the book she was reading by some muggle author he'd never heard of. She remembered how they spoke as if they'd been friends for years. She also remembered how he decided he wanted nothing to do with her once she told him that both of her parents were muggles.

"You kicked me out of your compartment because I was a mudblood."

Draco shifted to sit beside her, only inches between them. "I was scared. Scared of what being friends with someone like you would do to my family. I didn't want to disappoint my father or anger him further. I'd already spent most of my childhood angering him."

The young witch's eyes narrowed as the blonde spoke. "So I got to suffer for seven long years to please your daddy?"

"I guess so," Draco conceded. He turned his head slightly to the left, catching just a glimpse of brunette curls. He watched as she picked up her book once again and stood up. She threw her handbag over her shoulder after pulling out her wallet. It wasn't until she exited the aisle that Draco stood and followed. When he reached the end he saw her pay for the book and walk out of the shop. He ran out and turned left when he saw her.

"Stop following me, Malfoy," she yelled, but never turned back to look at him. She felt his hand reach her arm and turn her towards him.

"I didn't mean for what I said to come out the way it did," he explained, slightly out of breath. "My father would have hurt you if he knew. It was just easier to distance myself from you."

"Your father did hurt me, and your deranged aunt," she reminded him, scenes from Malfoy Manor playing in their minds. "But worse than all of that, was living everyday thinking that the first person I could have liked after being thrust into this world hated me. Harry and Ron were my best friends, and even they used and belittled me. Gods, if they called me a know-it-all bookworm one more time..."

He smirked and his gray eyes twinkled. He held up his right hand as if swearing an oath. "I promise, on pain of death and all the book in all the book shops in the world, that I won't call you a know-it-all bookworm. Well, after this."

Hermione, arms crossed over her chest, stared at him. "When did you become a goof?" she asked, a smile breaking out on her face.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know." He took hold of her arm and started walking in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. "Sometimes it's just nice to not have to be serious. I shudder at the thought of wrinkles."

Hermione laughed and they slipped into a comfortable silence as they approached the tavern. They were seated at a table near the back of the crowded pub. An old witch came over to take their orders and promptly left.

"Laughter," Hermione said. Draco shot her a confused look, urging her to continue. "Laughter will cause wrinkles too."

"So I should never be serious and never be happy?" he inquired.

Hermione pretended to consider his question. "Well, happy Draco Malfoy is a bit...disconcerting," she replied seriously. "But I think it works for you."

Draco shot her a small smile as their food was set before them. They ate quietly, stealing glances when the other wasn't looking. When they were finished, Draco dropped a few coins on the table and they left.

"I'm going that way," Draco said, pointing to Madam Malkin's robe shop. Hermione nodded and told him she was going back to muggle London.

"It was good to see you again, Malfoy," she admitted before walking to the alley that would take her to her destination.

Draco hesitated, not sure what his next move should be. Finally he jogged after her, his hand catching the sleeve of her coat. Hermione whirled around, confusion etched on her face.

"Tomorrow, same time, same place?" he asked, his gray eyes full of hope.

Hermione nodded. "Sounds good."