The Man with a Future.
Summary: Hermione ventures to the future to gain information on the Horcruxes, but she gets more than she bargained for. Draco is struggling to figure out right from wrong when he finds out he may not have to choose. He was the man with a future whilst she was the woman with a past.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, as much as I wish I had a mind as wonderful as JK Rowling. This amazing world belongs solely to her. Dayum.
Hermione Granger had never had a normal year at Hogwarts and she wouldn't have it any other way. Hogwarts was her second home. She had spent 6 years of her life, studying and helping Harry defeat dark wizards there. She missed everything and everyone, but she was not to return there. They had a job to do, an important one. Although, she knew Harry would want to do this alone, he had no other choice than to have her and Ron journey with him. They were going to do this together, just like they started it.
She wanted and needed to be prepared for Harry and this journey they were about to take. So after Dumbledore's funeral, she snuck away and managed to summon the books she'd needed by simply shouting 'accio Horcrux books'. It wasn't stealing; the books had just flown out of Dumbledore's study, which means he must have wanted her to have them. It definitely wasn't stealing. She did know, however, that these books would be essential in her learning exactly what a Horcrux is.
It was warm in her childhood bedroom, warm and cosy. Just the way she liked it, her parents were still at work. They didn't get the summer off, this year. Hermione found herself dreading the prospect of leaving, she didn't want to say goodbye to her parents in fear this would be the last she would see of them. She shook all thoughts of her death from her mind and made her way to her desk. Strewn across the wooden desk were the books from Dumbledore's office. But, one caught her eye particularly. It seemed to seep dark magic into the room. The book was fairly thick, bound in faded black leather, it was battered and worn, and Hermione could tell it was quite old. She had read all the other books and not gained much information at all, this was her last chance. She paused for a second, then, she gingerly picked it up.
"Secrets of the Darkest Art." She whispered to herself. She knew as soon as she opened it that she would be plunged into pure evil magic. But, this was something she had to do. So, she turned the first page. Each page that she read took her deeper into the realms of dark magic. It was horrible but she was entranced, learning more by the line. The book warned the reader that your soul becomes extremely unstable when you rip it. Hermione thought you had to be unstable already to kill someone just for immortality; however, she was beginning to believe less and less that Voldemort had made six Horcruxes. It was barbaric; each and every line was explicit instructions on how to make a Horcrux. She was beginning to tire from the sinister words of the book but before she could close the book, she saw the title of the next chapter.
It was Reconciliation. She read through that chapter vigorously and efficiently. It seemed that there was a way to reverse a Horcrux, unlike what she had thought before. You had to feel remorse; you have to truly feel what you have done. However, it was extremely painful and it could be fatal. She moved on through the book, looking for more information. She found it, in the penultimate chapter of the book. Destruction, it was named. Hermione almost sighed in relief; she now knew what destroyed a Horcrux. Voldemort was not invincible; he was able to be destroyed, just like any other mortal man. There were only two things that could destroy a Horcrux and both were as deadly and dark as the Horcrux itself. Those two things were: Basilisk venom and Fiendfyre. Hermione mentally scolded herself. She should have known Basilisk venom was deadly to a Horcrux after the events of second year. However, there was no way that they would be able to find Basilisk venom or conjure Fiendfyre to destroy the Horcrux. So, even if they hunted down the remaining four, which they had no idea what or where they were, they would still be no closer to defeating Voldemort. Sighing, she slammed the book closed. Leaning back on her chair, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes.
The knowledge she now had burned her mind, which was working as hard as ever now. She would have to share this information with Harry and Ron soon. She had done as much research as possible. She had even brewed a series of potions over the last month. Of course, she stole the ingredients from Snape's private store cupboard, before she left Hogwarts. She didn't feel guilty at all for that act of thievery.
She had only just finished brewing the polyjuice potion. However, it was quite an easy potion for her now, after all, she had brewed it in only her second year. She had made a batch of pepper-up potion as well, an ingenious potion that cured the common cold but would be useful to them. She had also managed to find a small bottle of essence of dittany in Snape's store cupboard. It was incredibly rare but would be incredibly useful also. Dittany was a magical plant which was a powerful restorative; she did not doubt that she was incredibly lucky to have found it. She had managed to convince her parents to allow her to travel to Diagon alley, so she could collect supplies. She had told them she needed to get school supplies and they believed her, they wouldn't suspect their Hermione of lying. Her trip to Diagon alley had turned out to be important as she had managed to get many needed things. She even managed to get a hold of a bezoar.
She sat up straight now and looked around her impeccably neat room. She only had a few more things to pack until she was ready. She got up and picked up her small beaded bag. She had already placed the slightly tricky (but worth it) undetectable extension charm. Her bag was already filled with her clothes and other essentials, not to mention the potions. Now, she was left with just putting in her books. Hermione had just finished stacking the books perfectly in her bag when she heard the door open downstairs. Hermione was packed. She was ready to go, ready to face the unknown now. She didn't have anything holding her back now.
There was a knock on her door and her mother entered her room. It had been commented on, by many people, that Hermione looked a lot like her mother. But, as she was gearing up to go to war, she saw nothing of herself in her mother, who would not hurt a fly. Perhaps, if she had not seen death and destruction as much as she had at her young age, she would have turned out like her mother.
"Hermione, would you like a cup of tea?" Her mother asked. Hermione blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill over. She had to stay strong.
"No, that's okay. I'll make you and dad one though. You've both had a hard day at work." Hermione said, calmly. Her mother beamed.
"Thank you, sweetheart." She said, she then made her way back downstairs. Hermione looked back at her childhood bedroom. She then conjured up a small cardboard box. She then took everything in the room and miniaturised it, so that it would all fit inside the box. The box was the size of her palm. She then shoved the box into her beaded bag. She would have destroyed it but she was not ready to get rid of her happy memories. The room was now empty, except for a bed, a desk and a chair. She closed the door behind her and proceeded to make her parents some tea.
She placed the tea in front of them in the living room, smiling when they said their thanks and then she went to do the washing up for them. She felt that she had to do something to stop herself from feeling so guilty about what was going to happen. It would only take a flick of her wand to clean all the dishes but she wanted to stall. She could hear her parents talking about the day's work, taking breaks in their conversation to sip tea. She decided she couldn't stall anything anymore.
She took out her wand and walked into the living room. She stood behind them now. With her wand pointed at the backs of their heads. They were in deep conversation, looking at a picture of Hermione that was on the mantel piece. Hermione felt as if her heart was going to break. She had to act quickly before they turned around. She thought clearly in her mind what it was that she wanted them to forget and what it was that she wanted to replace their memories with.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before sharply opening them and whispering:
"Obliviate."
Her parents now had no recollection of her whatsoever and Hermione picked up her beaded bag, placed her wand in her pocket.
As she felt her heart shatter into many pieces, she knew it was time to go.
Draco Malfoy had nowhere to go. As much as he wished he could suddenly renounce Voldemort and move to France to be fawned on by the French. That was entirely impossible. Severus had dropped him off at the manor, shortly after the killing of Dumbledore. He had no say in it, of course. He would have loved to be on the run somewhere away from here. Contrary to belief, he did not thrive on war. He felt as if everything he ever had was lost. She had told him to come back here. It was because of her that he was even back here in the first place. The manor was eerie and sullen and did not feel at all like home but it was because of his ghastly promise that he even considered doing this.
He walked slowly and with purpose from his large regal looking bedroom towards the manors library. At one point, he believed that the Dark Lord would be the victor in this war but now he did not think that at all. Last year, he had had the strangest year possible, the events hadn't changed him. But last year had made him seriously question everything. He would never be chummy with Weasel or Scar-head but he was almost certain that he was going to find a way to help them. He may have wanted to when he was eleven but now he did not want to live up to his father's legacy or the legacy of Slytherin house. All these thoughts swimming around his head were not in his best interests, though. As he reached the library, the doors creaking open echoed loudly in the silent manor. He slipped inside and acknowledged the fact that those doors needed to be silenced to avoid causing him anymore annoyance. With a flick of his wrist, the doors closed and silently. The library at the manor was grand and was roughly about the same size as the one in Hogwarts. However, the books were mostly about dark and complicated magic. That was not at all a problem for him though, as the book he needed was dark and complicated.
He found what he was looking for straight away. A guide to legilimency. In his sixth year, his aunt Bellatrix had taught him the art of Occulmency. It was essential that no one knew of the plan to kill Dumbledore. It was simple for Draco to learn, he had compartmentalised his emotions, and it was the way he was brought up. It was not difficult to do the same with his memories. When he was a young boy, he locked away his pity. It is what made him such an excellent bully, of course, he knew he was bully. He was horrible to others because he did not care. His emotions were firmly shut away. He shut away his compassion, and that is what made him so excellent at shutting his mind. His Occulmency shield was so strong that even Severus could not penetrate his mind. He could lie with ease; make someone believe whatever he wanted them to think. It was a skill, which he was glad he had gained. But, now in a time of war, he needed to learn legilimency; he needed to be able to penetrate peoples' minds. He needed to be able to protect himself.
He opened the book and began studying the text. Surely, it wouldn't be too difficult? Alas, he was incredibly wrong, three hours in and he was exhausted. He had no one to practise on, so he was uncertain if his technique was correct. He knew everything now and all was left was someone to practise the theory on.
"Bonky?" He called out from his position on the plush green sofa in the middle of the library. There was a pop and a reasonably large house elf appeared.
"Master, what can Bonky gets you today?" Bonky squeaked out, smiling. He didn't particularly wish to see the memories of a house elf, but he urgently needed to practise.
"I'd like to try something please, Bonky. It won't hurt; I just need to be able to see if I am able to perform it adequately.
"Of course, Master Malfoy, sir," Bonky said. He then proceeded to stand very still. Draco decided to get this over and done with quickly. He looked the elf, dead in the eyes and muttered: "legilimens."
It was spontaneous, hundreds of memories swarming before his very eyes. He could easily sort through them at leisure. He ended the connection and smiled. He then tried it, non-verbally. The end result was the same. He was immensely proud of himself at that moment. No more than a day! It had taken him no more than a day, to master legilimency. Well, obviously, he would be terrible against an Occulmens but it would take him a while to reach a reasonably high standard.
"Thank you, Bonky. You're dismissed." He stated, with a casual flick of his hand. He had not gotten off of the coach in the while it took for him to practise his new found legilimency skills, so he took this time to stretch out his legs and summon himself an apple.
Malfoy Manor was empty at this date, although his mother had received word that the Dark Lord would wish to use their home to hold meetings, a type of headquarters if you will. Draco hoped he wouldn't have to stick around long enough to see the Dark Lord. However, he knew it would be very likely. It was around the time of seven in the evening that Draco languidly decided to get up. The Malfoy family usually ate dinner together in the dining hall. In these recent dark times, his father was off gallivanting for the Dark Lord and his mother was in her bedroom, so he took to eating in his bedroom.
Draco worried greatly for his mum, she was there for him through everything and he had tried to be there for her also. He had tried comforting her but she just shrugged him off and told him that she was fine. Of course, Draco didn't believe her. But, the only thing he could for her, right now, was to stay. She was the only thing tying him down here; she was his only reason to stay. If she weren't here, he would most probably be dead and that is not a hyperbole.
He made his way to his bedroom before he called a house elf and asked for some dinner. After eating, an owl appears outside his window. It taps on the glass to alert his presence. Draco could recognise that owl from anywhere. He quickly went to let him in and the elegant black owl stuck his leg out for Draco to take the letter. It had been five months since they had last exchanged words. He had been angry at Draco for ignoring him, he had been angry because Draco had taken the dark mark. He knew Draco was forced into it and he knew that sooner or later he would be served the same punishment. They grew more and more separate in the weeks Draco spent alone planning to complete the mission the Dark Lord had set him. He was intrigued by what Blaise could want to tell him, he had been sure that Blaise had hated him. The letter was dying to be opened so he yielded and with his letter opener sliced the envelope neatly open.
Carefully unfolding the parchment, Draco was pleased when he recognised his friend's old hand writing.
Draco,
We must talk, soon.
Keep your room warm.
BZ
A/N: So guys, I will be honest. The ideas I have for this story are wild, this is going to be one hell of a confusing but hopefully interesting plot. Draco and Hermione will not meet till approximately the 3rd chapter…sorry…the beginning is slow but I need to set the scene and lay it all out there. This is a post HBP fic and I'm going to mix up the deathly Hallows a bit to suite this story. Don't like the summary one bit but it will have to do as I have no other ideas!
Anyway, I will update every 2 weeks at the latest, I have three exams in the next month though so I will be busy but I'm dedicated to this fic! :3
SO…Review and tell me what you think, please?