A.N. Hello everyone! I had an idea for a story that I could not get out of my head, so although I have not finished my other fanfic yet, I had to start this one. Don't worry, I will continue both stories. See you on the flip side. Enjoy!

By the way, I do not own Harry Potter.

The bone white full moon was almost completely obscured by wispy grey clouds as a young girl with bushy brown hair walked the busy streets of London alone. Hermione Granger had been walking for quite some time as tears feel unnoticed down her cheeks. The chilly November air wrapped around her bare arms and held her together, numbed her just enough so that she did not collapse underneath the weight of her grief. More than anything Hermione wished that she could apparate home and crawl under her comforter, but she still had enough sense left to know that she was too emotionally charged to apparate safely. If she apparated in her state she would be likely to leave behind a body part. Briefly Hermione wondered if she could apparate away and leave her feelings behind, but she knew the thought was silly.

Hermione kept walking and crying, not paying much attention to her surroundings. Her thoughts and feelings were weighing her down too much to care about where she was going. So when she stepped into a deep puddle that soaked her from the shin down, she gasped out loud. Her gasp echoed through the narrow alleyway. When Hermione looked around she was surprised to see the dingy condition of the walls and cement ground around her. She had no idea where she was, and she had even less idea of how she had gotten there. She stopped walking and backed up against the wall so she could take in her surroundings and decide the best way to go. Hermione pulled her wand from her pocked and cast a quiet Lumos. The tip of her wand flared with light and Hermione pointed it all around her. To her right she could see trash cans and a high chain link fence. To her left she could see the mouth of the alleyway in the distance, where a few cars were quickly passing. If she walked back to the street she could hail the Knight Bus and ride it back to her apartment.

Hermione had just turned to walk toward the mouth of the alleyway when she heard the sound of a shrieking cat and the metallic clang of the trashcans banging together. Heart pounding in her chest, Hermione turned toward the source of the noise. As Hermione slowly moved her wand across the fence she started to calm down. There was one mangy cat and a small kitten fighting for food near the trashcans.

"Hey, stop that," said Hermione as she moved toward them. She placed her wand back in her pocket as she approached the two animals, who had stopped fighting. The mangy grey cat darted off beyond her, hugging the wall until it had passed her, but the kitten stayed where it was, trembling. "Shh! It's ok, little one. I'm not going to hurt you." Hermione knelt down and reached her hand out to pet the tiny orange fur-ball.

"Hermione Granger," called a rough voice from behind her. Hermione spun around quickly and drew her wand in the same moment, pleased to see that her reflexes were still just as sharp as they had been six months ago when the war ended. Ten feet from where Hermione stood a woman with curly grey hair clouding her wrinkled face leaned out of a doorway on the side of the alley wall that had not been there when Hermione had first glanced around the alleyway. Hermione wondered what she should do. Should she try to run past the woman? Should she stop to listen to what she had to say? "Well don't just stand there with your brain whirring, Granger, come in."

"H-how do you know my name?" Hermione asked shakily.

"There's no time for that, Granger. You must come in right now. You are in grave danger," the woman said seriously, her lips thin and pursed.

"What do you mean, I'm in danger?" asked Hermione, shifting from foot to foot, uncertain about her next move.

"Merlin's beard Granger, how many times do I have to tell you? We do not have time for silly questions! Come in off the street and I shall tell you!" said the old woman in an exasperated tone.

"I really don't think it's a silly question," protested Hermione.

"I forgot how stubborn children your age can be," grumbled the woman quietly to herself. Hermione glanced back behind her at the kitten who was still trembling, "Leave that mangy vermin where it is and come in quickly."

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" asked Hermione, gripping the wand in her pocket.

"I'm not going to hurt you, girl. I am Elvera Trelawney. I believe you know my grand niece, Sybil?" the woman asked impatiently, her eyes narrowed on Hermione. "Now do you think you can hold off your inquisition until you come inside?"

"Er, alright," said Hermione cautiously. She began slowly inching towards the door, planning to run for the road when she was near enough to the woman to make it past the door before the old woman could react.

"Please don't run, Granger. I don't fancy chasing you all over London tonight," said Elvera.

"How did you-" Hermione began.

"Honestly, girl. I was told you had much more sense," said Trelawney, shaking her head in irritation.

"Well I have enough sense to know I should not calmly stroll into a stranger's house," huffed Hermione.

"I had a feeling this might happen, so I got a letter from McGonagall, my dear friend, so that you would trust me. Take a look, if you like, and then come on in." Trelawney held out a wrinkled piece of parchment paper and Hermione took it, scanning quickly down the page. She recognized the parchment as a special parchment that could only be read by the intended recipient.

Dear Ms. Granger,

Please allow Mrs. Trelawney to speak with you. She must relay to you a matter which we both feel is of great importance. I would be there myself, but I have many things to do to get Hogwarts ready for students once again. Although I encourage you to hear her out, I would also urge you to be on your guard. Do not trust everything she says. She is a very old, very powerful witch and she has shown time and time again that she serves no one's purposes but her own. I know that I can trust your ever impeccable judgment in this matter, or I would be with you. I shall be awaiting your owl should you need any assistance.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress of Hogwarts Scholl of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Well?" asked Elvera impatiently.

"Alright, then," said Hermione, squeezing her wand in her pocket as she walked toward the door Trelawney was holding open. The elderly woman stepped out onto the cement and let Hermione pass through the entryway before she turned around and shut the door behind her.

Hermione quickly scanned the room, but did not notice anything out of the ordinary besides the décor. The living room in which she found herself was very similar to her divination Professor's classroom. There were lamps with gauzy scarves thrown over them, blocking all but a small, tinted bit of light. The carpet was a mulberry color, and it was threadbare in spots, where dark wood peeked out. There was an overstuffed salmon colored couch and several poufy armchairs in a plethora of subdued colors placed haphazardly around the room.

"If you're quite done checking for any sinister figures who would dart out from behind my sofa, you may sit at the round table over there," said Trelawney, pointing to a round table that was cluttered with several chipped teacups, a glowing crystal ball, and a ear-marked and well-worn pack of playing cards fanned out across the surface. The table was a dark mahogany, and it was covered in decorative scalloped accents. Hermione shuffled through the plushy carpet to the table as Trelawney muttered behind her.

"McGonagall said that you had a message for me?" asked Hermione.

"Now you're ready to get right down to business?" asked Trelawney, arching an eyebrow. When she saw Hermione frown at her, she pressed on. "Well, I guess I won't complain about it. I shall simply be grateful that you are finally being serious. I'm afraid this is a very serious matter."

"McGongall said as much," said Hermione. Now she was the one getting impatient. She felt a headache begin at the back of her right eye and spread to the middle of her temple.

"Yes, among other things, I'm sure," Trelawney said, giving Hermione a knowing look, "but that is not the point. I do not believe in being gentle, so I will not coddle you like a little child. I will simply tell you the facts straight out. I am a psychic, just as my mother, Sybil's great, great grandmother was. My mother taught me everything she knew, but I also had the all-important eye, which my grand niece so disappointingly lacks. I recently became aware of certain- inconsistencies- in the fabric of our world. Have you ever felt that something was wrong with your life? That something was missing?"

Hermione shrank under the scrutiny of Trelawney's magnified blue eyes as they raked across her face. She did not miss the stifled smile that hinted in the corner of Trelawney's mouth. The older woman was certainly enjoying herself. Hermione recognized the same love of dramatics that Professor Trelawney had, but there was something a little more disturbing about this woman's flair for dramatics.

"Er, I'm not quite sure what you mean," said Hermione cautiously. It was a lie, of course. Ever since she could remember, she had felt like there was something missing. When she received her acceptance to Hogwarts she had been sure that her unknown magical skills were the answer, but after the first few months Hermione knew it wasn't that simple. Part of the edge of the feeling of her life being incorrect wore off as she learned more spells and as she made friends, but it was still there. Secretly Hermione wondered if that feeling was what pushed her to learn more and more, to study more and more, to try and acquire any new knowledge she could. Maybe if she searched through enough books she could find the answer that would fill the ever-present void she felt. After her horrible night, she felt the gaping hole in her life widen.

"Don't lie to me, girl," growled the old woman menacingly. Her face pinched into a frown, the wrinkles of her cheeks standing out as the candlelight from the chandelier above the table ghosted over her face.

Hermione didn't say anything in response and after a few seconds Trelawney shook her head and continued.

"You feel like something is missing in your life because there is something missing in your life. Someone has tampered with your lifeline," said Trelawney, "or should I say, they have tampered with your loveline."

"What does that mean?" asked Hermione instantly.

"Give me your palm, girl," said Trelawney, reaching out a slightly shaky hand across the table. Hermione reluctantly reached out her own hand and allowed the old woman to take it into her own. Her hands felt leathery and calloused.

"Do you see this line here?" the woman asked, pointing to a line that was close to her thumb and that ran diagonally across her palm. "This is the life line. Yours splits in two shortly after it begins. This shows that you were not born to live the life you now lead."

"So what life was I meant to live? Was I supposed to be in Slytherin? Was I supposed to be a magical princess?" asked Hermione sarcastically.

"I cannot tell you everything, Ms. Granger. It would not be right to so radically influence the course of your life. You must find out all that you were meant to be on your own," said Trelawney.

"Well, thanks, I'm so glad you called me here to tell me that there's something you can't tell me. It's very helpful," said Hermione sarcastically, "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be going." Hermione stood to leave, the wooden chair scraping against the floor, but Trelawney held up a hand to stop her.

"If you would let me finish, impertinent child, you would know that there is more. I will share some of what I know because the fate of the wizarding world rests on correcting this mistake," said Trelawney dramatically. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Alright, what is this all-important bit of information that will save the fate of the world?" asked Hermione, rolling her eyes at the batty old woman.

"You and Draco Malfoy were never supposed to be enemies. In fact, you were supposed to be best friends," explained Elvera.

"Right," Hermione snorted.

"Your friendship was supposed to blossom over the years until-" Trelawney said, ignoring Hermione's interruption.

"No, don't say it," said Hermione, thoroughly disgusted.

"Until," Trelawney said louder, cutting off Hermione's gagging, "you were to marry."

"No, no way," said Hermione. "Not even in an alternate world. Malfoy and I would never, ugh, I can't even say it!" said Hermione.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a precocious, immature girl?" asked Trelawney forcefully, throwing her hands down onto the table. "I honestly do not know why I am bothering with this. I could have saved myself a lot of trouble if I kept my mouth shut."

"I appreciate the – er - concern, but really, I think you have your psychic wires all tangled. Malfoy is the most foul, loathsome creature I've ever met," said Hermione. "I would certainly never be friends with him, or marry him."

"I have not 'got my psychic wires tangled' as you say, because I have proof. There is a prophecy about you and Malfoy in the Department of Mysteries," said Trelawney, banging the table with her hands. The teacups rattled ominously on the table.

"W-What?" asked Hermione, yanked out of her denial.

"That's right. If you do not believe me, then go to the Hall of Prophecy and see for yourself."

"Well, what does the prophecy say?" asked Hermione curiously.

"I have not heard it personally, but I know that it exists," said Trelawney.

"And how do you know that?" asked Hermione, narrowing her eyes at the old woman, wondering what the chances were that she was telling the truth.

"Because my mother, the great Cassandra Trelawney, was the one who made the prophecy. She only ever shared it with the Minister of Magic at the time, in order to ensure that it received a special level of security. It is a highly valuable piece of prophecy," said Trelawney.

"About me?" asked Hermione, still feeling unconvinced.

"I know I cannot convince you myself, but promise me that you will find Draco Malfoy," urged Trelawney.

"What? Why do I need him?" asked Hermione.

"Why? Are you daft, girl? Have you not heard anything I said? You must marry Draco Malfoy, and you might feel a bit more comfortable if you spend some time together first," said Trelawney.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," promised Hermione.

"But you must," insisted Trelawney.

"No, I won't do it," said Hermione, "it's too great a sacrifice."

"Fine, you stubborn child, but you will need Malfoy in order to listen to the prophecy, so I suggest that you find him quickly and go to listen to the prophecy immediately. Now, you have made me extremely tired with all of your obduracy, so please go away so that I can get some rest," said Trelawney in a growling tone.

"I'm not marrying Malfoy," protested Hermione again.

"It is only the wizarding world's funeral if you do not, you selfish girl, but I am too tired to convince you right now. Good night, Ms. Granger," Trelawney said firmly.

"Good night, Mrs. Trelawney," said Hermione as she hurried out of the old woman's house and back into the night. She walked back to the road, her head swirling with thought. Was it possible that this was all true? The old woman seemed to know so much that she shouldn't have known. She knew my name and all about how I've always felts something was missing. But at the same time, McGonagall had warned her not to put too much trust in Trelawney. How was she going to find out what was real? And how was she supposed to go find Draco Malfoy right away? How was she supposed to face him the day his father had been captured for murdering her parents?

A.N. Well, there you have it. The first chapter! Please let me know if you like it and if you think I should continue. As soon as I post this I will write the next chapter. I will post the next chapter in two weeks, or sooner if you encourage me with lots of reviews :)

Love,

Littlemisskrissy