Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned, I'm simply taking them out the box and playing with them.
A/N: This is an AU fic. Most points will better explained in the next chapter, that I've already written.
This will be a Joker/Hermione fic with an intense Draco/Hermione comfort/understanding friendship.
The arrival of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy was not a grueling affair on their part or anyone else's for that matter. Their arrival was more of a hop or a skip, rather than an arrival. A leap through space and time and perhaps more, but Hermione is not quite sure.
However, she was sure of three other things.
One, her plan had worked wonderfully! They had successfully traveled through the fabric of the space continuum- to a world, a near perfect replica of their own. (It wasn't all that different for an alternate universe, she still heard the comforting whispers of death- like the sweet murmurs of a lover- and Draco could still hear the ever steady beat of her heart. Nothing important had changed.)
Two, Grimmauld Place was no longer grim- old it was still, but grim it was not- the hallways no longer magically extended or haunted by neither the screaming of mad portraits nor the suffocating blanket of tangible sadness. Nor were any Malfoy Manors in creation, or Spinner End; the latter had caused both Draco and Hermione to mourn their beloved potions master and dear friend once more.
Three, the very ground of the planet hummed with raw magic, but not in the way Hermione was used to. Whereas she was used to the constant, warm hum of wizarding magic, this felt… feral and more potent, something almost tainted in comparison to the magic of their (or rather pervious) reality. The magic buzzed around them and soaked into their bodies with every breath they took, it was almost as if it was happy they were there.
Instead of dwelling on this she grabbed Draco's hand with little preamble, and apparated with the trademark pop.
Several apparitions later there were fast on their way to a new life. With forged birth certificates, work credentials, two Swiss bank accounts (both of which held a near offensive amount of money), and school records- according to which they were both quite the prodigies (thank Merlin for, liberally used, memory charms).
After which they quickly went out to find their self-proclaimed home of several years during her childhood- if one could call the years spent inside the walls a childhood (Draco doesn't; neither does Hermione, not anymore that is) - only to find nothing.
Oh, how she had cried at the sight of the beautiful lake and ruins that once was filled to the brim with magic and pleasant, and some less pleasant, memories. Draco had stared soberly at the crumbled stones and let a few stray tears fall.
However, after a near obscene amount of tears they had moved on.
Mental walls were rebuilt and destroyed and rebuilt again (studier this time); and the group of red heads she passed in the airport and the raven haired, forest eyed barista had absolutely nothing to do with it. (Hermione you're a bloody terrible liar, Draco had told her when he caught the longing looks she sent towards both. She had huffed at his audacity and flicked a piece of her blueberry muffin at him.) Nor did the older silver-blonde couple on the aeroplane affect either of them, and the snarky business man with black, slightly greasy hair who sold them their new home- Draco insisted on purchasing an entire apartment complex in a New Jersey city called Gotham- didn't cause their stomachs to clinch in sadness.
A few years and several job later they were finally settled.
After numerous small government and developing jobs Hermione had published her first paper on condensed matter. Afterwards, she had made leaps and bounds in the fields of mathematics and physics, she had wrote several papers and one book over the uses of logically applied metaphysics and organic chemistry in both everyday life and war-time weaponry.
Draco on the other hand took to business like a fish to water. He dominated the beauty industry; using the help of Hermione they were able to artificially recreate the effects Beautification potions, such as Blemish Blitzer and Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, in the form of perfumes, creams, shampoos, etc. (Hermione had adamantly refused to waste their supplies when they could recreate the same affect using other means.) He, also, began to provide medical remedies such as burn paste and calming draughts- again using Hermione's knowledge to reproduce the same effects as magical elements using synthetic means.
Most times they thrived in their newfound success and happiness.
Other times Draco's eyes would go dull and hazy, and his sharp wit would disappear and he'd lean against her shoulder as they over looked the city from their balcony. She'd make him a cuppa during those times and they'd talk all night- keeping each other from the nightmares with philosophical discussions and bad jokes.
Sometimes, she'd hit him with teaspoons, and others she'd throw utensils at him in a fit of rage, but it would always be spoons. Hermione told Draco it was symbolic; souls were like bowls- holding emotions and memories like soup- and bowls were spoons without the handles. And a certain ginger that had the emotional range of a teaspoon had nothing (everything) to do with it.
Draco would tease her, on those nights when they drank tea together, that someone would come and glue back together the shattered pieces of her bowl- that they would mend her with liquid gold and that she would shimmer in the light. And your brilliance will be so dazzling, Draco dramatically exclaimed one night, even if I not the eyes to see, I would be able to bask in it.
Hermione had rolled her eyes in reply and went to take a shower.
Several years had passed and grey eyes had finally regained their spark and their caramel counterparts their warmth.
And life goes on.
Review with who you want Draco to end up with. (Suggestions can be slash of otherwise.)
Next: More explanations and sad relationships that rip your heart out. (Not nearly as boring or angst-y as it sounds.)