A/N

Thank you so much for clicking on my story! I'm very excited to be able to share my passion for writing with you!

So obviously I do not own any of the Harry Potter franchise! All recognisable elements belong to J.K. Rowling and I thank her so much for it! The plot however is my own and hope for your feedback so I can improve my writing!

Draco has been designing a time machine for the past 10 years (that can put you back in your body in the past, removing concern for two of you) in order to go back and change that the Death Eaters won the battle of Hogwarts, and therefore took over the Ministry and dictated how everybody lives their lives. The only problem he found himself in was falling in love with the girl he was arranged to marry by the Minister of Magic. Hermione Granger. The programme designed to 'better' those who fought on the side of good. He must now go back in time, save Harry Potter's life and let good win the war, all whilst convincing Hermione Granger to love him again.

"It's finally complete." Draco stumbled backwards, away from the machine the whirred to life in front of his eyes. "I finally completed my machine. I can change everything now."

"Draco, Son, we must leave now. The Potter boy is dead. We have won."

Draco backed out of the door, bolting it closed behind him. In his haste to turn around quickly and resume normal activities before being seen, Draco caught his pointed shoes on the corner of the rug that, as he liked to describe it to his wife, was haphazardly thrown across the hallway floor. Tumbling down, whilst managing to avoid the table on the wall opposite, Draco groaned loudly as his shoulder came in contact with the hardwood flooring.

"I know I was the one who really wanted the dark hardwood Draco, but you seem to be enjoying it more than I do." He heard his wife say through a smirk. "What are you doing down there?"

"How much did you see?"

"Oh everything."

"Well then my love," he replied, dragging himself up with the help of the table and brushing the imaginary dust from the front of his suit, "You know exactly what I was doing down there."

"What's the rush then, sweetheart?"

Draco's heart clenched in his chest. Sweetheart. Would he ever get to listen to those words come out of the mouth of his lover again?

"Draco please," his Mother begged, "Let us get home safe. We don't know what will happen now."

"You know, darling," Draco drawled, moving towards her body and backing her up against the wall, "my only rush is to spend time with you."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" Hermione laughed. Draco had always compared her laugh to this chiming of bells, drifting off into the wind. Refreshing and light-hearted.

"Isn't that why you love me?"

"Of course not, I love you because I was made to."

Draco forced himself to place one foot in front of the other, willing himself to enter the Ministry of Magic. Being under the reign of the Death Eaters brought forward a whole new bundle of problems for Draco in his everyday life after the war.

Three days after the battle, Narcissa was taken ill. She shook with fever and sweat trickled down her forehead, as she desperately attempted to hold in the cough that tried to rip through her chest. A rogue spell. A rogue spell was the thing that was going to kill his Mother.

It was a week later that Draco found himself stood outside the Ministry. He had been summoned by the Minister himself, Marcus Haig. The winter chill set upon his bones like knives and he trembled not only in anticipation.

"So glad you could join me, young Malfoy." Haig exclaimed as Draco was shown into the office by a twig of a receptionist, Haig was then throwing his clammy hand towards Draco. Timidly, Draco took the palm in his own and gave a strong, yet subtle jerk of his hand.

"So glad you ask me to be here, Minister."

"I'm sure you understand why I've brought you here."

"Actually, Sir, I was not explained to the reasons for you asking for my presence this fine afternoon."

"Well boy, me and a few of my closest colleagues have devised a plan you see. A sort of clean up for the War."

"You need money, Sir?"

"No money, just time."

"How much time, Minister?"

"Well, there is the catch, my good fellow. How much time indeed? I'd say the rest of your life, boy."

"Excuse me?"

"We, as a Ministry, have devised a plan to clean up the opposing side of the war, Malfoy. To purify them all, let's say."

"Right Sir, and how does that involve the rest of my life?"

"You are going to be the poster boy for our campaign. You will be engaged to marry one of the opposing side. You will purify her of her sins against our Dark Lord."

Draco retreated until he felt the backs of his legs hit the chair, and proceeded to slump back into it.

"Marry?" He choked out.

"Yes, lad, marry. Let's see if we can get these nasty rebelling scum in their place."

"So what does your position of poster boy entail exactly, Sir?" Draco questioned, sweating in his seat.

"We've decided on your partner already."

The double doors slammed open, and Draco jumped upwards in shock. Two heavyset guards were dragging the small, fragile form of a girl in and unceremoniously throwing her to the ground at Draco's feet.

"Don't worry, love," The Minister addressed her, sneering, "You need to get used to serving at this man's feet."

Draco was stunned into silence. Resisting the urge to help the poor girl up, he swallowed his emotions and looked down toward the broken girl.

"Well?" Bellowed Haig, "Introduce yourself, you dirty piece of scum."

Draco stared down towards the matted mess of hair below him, waiting for her to lift her head.

"Please..." She begged.

That voice. Draco knew he recognised it. It reminded him of a girl he knew a long time ago. He had not heard her voice for years, and yet something was different. More broken, more fragile. Defeated.

"I already gave you permission, Mudblood."

Mudblood. No. It couldn't possibly be. Draco froze, both internally and externally. Looking down and her corpse like figure as she stared to lift her head towards him. Golden eyes that had lost the spark of fierce, Gryffindor courage met the silver orbs of the young man towering above her. Instinct had Draco recoiling, recognition of the girl made his stomach churn and the back of his throat tasted like bile. Hermione Granger.

"Don't say it like that. Please."

"Draco," she moved toward him and took his large hands into her petite ones, "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," he whispered, pulling her flush against his body and kissing the top of her head, "I know."

Hermione tilted her head upwards, looking Draco in the eye. His usual light grey had stormed over into a dark cloud of emotions. Leaning up on her tiptoes, Hermione craned her lips towards his and gently covered them with her own. It was gentle, not a passionate kiss as many previous ones had been, but it was filled with love and admiration for the man that stood in front of her.

"I love you Draco Malfoy. I love you now, I will love you forever. I love you in every universe that could possibly exist. We're soulmates, and no matter what happens we will always be together. You saved me from them and you saved me from myself, which sets me eternally in your debt and I hope that my love and affections are enough to pay you back."

Suddenly, and without warning, scurries of little footprints could be heard by the pair. Barrelling into them, two tiny bodies at full speed, wrapping themselves around the legs of their parents. Lyra and Leo. The produce of the love between them. Swooping the children up his his arms, Draco laughed and enjoyed the view of his perfect family.

It's what I have to do. I have to protect my family. Draco thought. I have to use my machine and change the outcome of the war. And then I have to get my family back.

Draco placed the small children back onto the floor, smiling through his sadness and pain.

"I will return to you," he choked out, "I will get you back."

"Draco, what are you talking about?"

Her words fell on deaf ears, as Draco had already unlocked the door behind him, slid into the room and closed it again, preparing himself for what he was going to do.

"I will return to you." he sobbed, as he slumped downwards, leaning his back against to cool wood and running his fingers through his hair that was now damp from the sweat of nervousness.

"I will get you back."

Thank you so much for reading! I'm hoping chapters in the future shall be a bit longer than this one but I just wanted to set up the basis for my tale! Please review and follow, I'm hoping to update weekly, maybe even faster if I get a good response!