Some things in life were set in stone, predestined and not to be changed by anyone or anything. There was a plan and they all lived after it, with it, in it. No escape, no way around. What should be was to be.

Three hours, seventeen minutes, and nine seconds ago. That was the exact moment when Draco Malfoy learned that something as simple as free will, chance or pure luck had no place in this world, in his world, a magical world.

A world governed by the absence of choice, and yet the blond Slytherin was compelled to choose.

Left or right?

He had to make a decision and neither possibility seemed very inviting. Two options, both promising a lot of pain and devastation. A dull life by their rules, without the thing he wanted most, or fighting for what he really wanted and having to deal with the consequences in the process. Judging from the evening he just had, the repercussions were likely to put an evening with the Dark Lord and his minions into the shade.

Your timeline was supposed to have been corrected. You should already be involved with your stipulated partner.

What did that even mean, 'stipulated partner'?

Where was his choice? Where was his free will?

Draco's mind was just as turbulent and troubled as the open sea in front of him. Everything seemed so wrong and so confusing. Who were these people to tell him what he was supposed to do with his life? It was his life, they were his decisions and his mistakes. He was a Malfoy. The only people who had any right to tell him what to do were his parents and even they realised long ago that attempting to tell their spoiled son what to do was a fool's errand. Who did those men think they were, fate dressed in black designer cloaks?

But if there was one thing he had learned today, it was that nothing was what it seemed and that every single person in this world was naïve to believe otherwise.

Draco Malfoy wasn't one to be easily shocked or surprised by his environment; being raised a wizard, having fought in a war with and against a racist lunatic, and having seen and done the things he had in his considerably short life, had ensured this. He was no thumbing fool in the ways of the world, but the knowledge he had acquired today was even too much for someone as seemingly detached and cold-hearted as the Malfoy heir.


The day had started normal enough, as normal as a day could get when one had to control the workings of a multi-billion Galleon company. Being a Malfoy was both a boon and a bane sometimes.

Draco was walking into his office, contemplating the termination of his secretary, an incompetent nightmare on high-heels, when he suddenly found himself magically silenced and bound to a chair right in front of his own writing desk.

Bugger.

It was all the irritated wizard could think before he was greeted by three dark cloaked figures pointing their wands at his face.

"Ah, young Mr Malfoy, how are we today?" said the cheerful sounding male, who was currently playing with Draco's wand in his spare hand. The small movement sent Draco's flight instinct into overdrive but all he could do was struggle against the bonds. This wasn't good; he was at the mercy of three unknown subjects who thought themselves to be important enough to cover their faces. Not good at all.

"Now that I have your full attention, we can begin." The person in charge conjured up a spare chair and sat down opposite Draco, his bodyguards positioning themselves behind their boss in a protective and alert stance. "Don't worry, son, I am not going to harm you. All I want is for you to listen. Just listen but carefully. I will lift the Silencio if you behave. Do we have an agreement?"

Draco shot his captors a wary look.

What chance did he have, bound and without a wand? He sighed inwardly; unfortunately, wandless magic wasn't his forte. How he could have ended up like this was anyone's guess. Obviously the war had been over far too long. Even an always-alert Slytherin lost his edge when not in practice. Constant vigilance left the room a few years ago. Not that the thought was comforting at all.

Draco did the only thing he could think of in this predicament; he gave them a reluctant nod and was rewarded by the reversed Silencio spell.

"I imagine that you would like to know who we are, but that is in fact not as important as the purpose of our little visit here today." This sick bastard was enjoying this. Draco could imagine the self-satisfied smirk crossing over his mouth; the thought alone felt like mockery.

"My colleagues and I are in the business of observing and correcting," he continued. "And you Mr Malfoy have a habit of causing trouble and making our job very difficult. You see, there is a plan and we are here to make sure that everything happens according to plan.

"Every person has a pre-written purpose and fate in life and we are here simply to monitor you. If necessary, we step in and correct mistakes - frailties, if you will. It is our job to guarantee that people make the right choices, marry the right partners, choose the right careers, buy the right broom model, and donate to the right charities."

"So, basically, you like playing God, is that it?" Draco asked recklessly.

Wrong question. His opponent stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in rage.

"Yes, thank you," he went on, barely containing his anger-ridden voice. "This kind of attitude led us here today. Show some respect - you are getting privileged information, prohibited to share with the common wizards and witches for their own good."

The cloaked figure shook his head.

"For some reason you don't respond well to the necessary adjustments we have initiated from time to time and that is why you have had the honour of meeting me here today. You are somewhat of an inner house celebrity, Mr Malfoy, and quite frankly, an anomaly. The agents assigned to your case have had nightmares for years; we point you in one direction and you run in the other. For some reason you are immune to our efforts and that is why drastic measures are in order. We were actually led to believe to have found a solution six months ago and everything seemed to be according to plan. The timeline was assimilated and it almost looked like everything was running smoothly without her in the picture."

Draco's hands doubled into fists. That's what it was all about. It was her. That made sense in a way; she had always caused trouble in his life, deliberate or not, just by existing.

"You two had to go and stray from your right path, again."

"So, enlighten me. What would the right path be?" Now it was Draco's turn to get angry and the cryptic explanations were starting to get more and more preposterous.

"That is fairly simple. Astoria Greengrass and certainly not Hermione Granger."


Draco had to endure at least one more hour of their fruitless brainwashing activities before he was finally released and sent on his way to change his life.

As soon as he stepped out of the office building he was overcome by the desire to get away, as far away as he could and as fast as possible too. Draco was in an urgent need for some head-clearing and thinking. He looked at the wand in his right hand and Apparated away to the one place he knew he would be alone and able to ponder over his new found insights into the world.

The coast behind one of the numerous Malfoy estates in the South of England that overlooked the English Channel had been his favourite place in the world ever since he was a child.

And tonight the agitated water was mirroring his confused insides with frightening accuracy. The waves were furiously crashing up against the coast and a steep wind was blowing over the shoreline, but he didn't care. Draco needed the fresh air and a cool breeze to get some much needed order into his head.

He could still feel the shivers running down his spine, caused by the wizard's laughter when he had spoken his last words.

And I promise, you will start playing by the rules from now on, or you will get to know the meaning of cruel and unusual punishment, and more importantly Miss Granger will get to know the full extent of our powers. Something tells me that would be something you don't want.

There was absolutely no doubt in Draco's mind that he was in fact not talking about torture. These people were much more subtle in their approach and certainly could take away whole careers with the snap of a finger. Draco had a very bad feeling about this whole deal. He felt oddly adrift and absolutely at the mercy of strangers who wanted to control his life.

Draco Malfoy had always known that getting involved or even being near Hermione Granger was a very bad idea for a Slytherin like him, but his concerns had always been directed towards the fallout with his father, overcoming the rather obvious problems a relationship with Granger would produce and above all the resentment of the rest of the Golden Trio. After all, Potter was the one who killed the Dark Lord, pain in his arse or not, he could be downright scary if he wanted to.

Lost in his thoughts is how the blond wizard found himself now standing in the British countryside, looking into the open ocean, with one decision to make.

Turn left or right.

Astoria or Hermione.

The pure-blood witch or the Muggle-born temptation.

What he was ordered to want or what he actually wanted.

Being a coward or fighting for his own will.

Just that morning, before he had known what he knew now, the world had been so much more promising. In fact he would go as far as to say he had had one of the best weeks from the last two years, and it had everything to do with the surprising reunion at the annual Ministry Ball one week ago.


She was extraordinary, just like he had remembered. Hermione Granger was no conventional beauty, no; it was something else entirely that pulled the Slytherin towards the Gryffindor like a magnet. It always had.

When Draco first caught her sight earlier that evening, she was surrounded by a group of former Gryffindors – no doubt greeting their long absent friend.

She was dressed in a black floor length gown that clung perfectly to every curve of her body like a second skin. An array of brown curls was floating down her otherwise naked back. Not since fourth year at the Yule Ball had he seen her dressed up like that and, as memory served him, she had been a sight to behold. Bookworm turned ball queen always had a surprising effect. A constant surprise and an unsolved puzzle is what she was and always had been.

Their story had begun innocent enough so many years ago. A normal girl with bushy hair, no more extraordinary than any other new witch or wizard attending Hogwarts, but Draco was utterly wrong. She turned out to be anything but normal, and nothing like the others. She was brighter than the rest, more driven and competitive than her fellow students and above all she was nothing like him. She was no pure-blood. The little bossy Hermione Granger was a Mudblood, an abnormality, a Muggle-born magical being. According to his father's beliefs of blood superiority, she was an atrocity, not to be accepted, beaten academically, and to otherwise be ignored at any price.

How wrong the older Malfoy turned out to be, because disregarding her was almost as much of a challenge as getting better grades than her. No matter what Draco did, she was always in his line of sight, haunting him like a bad habit. He insulted her, he hurt her friends and tried to kill her beloved headmaster, but still she stood tall, without wavering. If anything, it made her stronger.

She was plain and simply a mystery. A mystery Draco always wanted to solve. A mystery pulling at him like gravity.

And now here she was, standing right next to him on one of the balconies to get some fresh air, just as if the last six months had never happened, like she hadn't disappeared out of the blue, leaving him sitting alone waiting at a restaurant table. It had been two days later that Potter of all people had told him she was gone for good. Hermione Granger had left England all together, and with the Weasel - the bloody sidekick. No explanations, no letters, and no life signs, leaving Draco wondering mindlessly at what had happened.

Being stood up on a date wasn't something a Malfoy was accustomed to. He was sure no living witch would do such a thing. To compromise a relationship with a pure-blood of his magnitude and, above all, his good looks, was downright stupid. But Hermione Granger was not like the others and she never played by the rules like the rest of them. She always had her own mind, but leaving like that was unlike her.

Not after they had made so much progress.

"So, tell me honestly, how did they coerce you into attending the ball tonight? Bribery, blackmail or something even worse?" she asked softly, pulling him out of his reverie.

Draco kept on staring into the night when her voice had reached his ear, looking at her was out of the question, he had to control himself, so he wouldn't grab her and demand a bloody answer to his questions. There were numerous ones. For starters, where have you been?

"You know, Granger," he finally answered, to his own surprise very calmly. "Contrary to popular belief, I actually do enjoy watching the 'hero' squirm through nights like these. Gryffindor courage or not, one of these days, he is going to lose a battle and I reckon it will happen at a society function." When in doubt, sarcasm always helped.

"Malfoy heir duty it is." Hermione's voice was filled with amusement.

After a while Draco lost his inner battle and turned his head to the right. She wasn't looking at him, but straight ahead, out into the night sky.

"Are you back?"

She turned towards him and for the first time this evening, he got a chance to look into Hermione's eyes.

"Yes, I'm back," she whispered, a genuine smile grazing her face. Draco responded with a short nod. Any halfway intelligent response was impossible when her body was so close to him as it was right now.

Those brown eyes were so dangerous, every time his met them he found himself drowning, unable to breathe or think straight. She was a powerful witch, but her biggest achievement was melting Draco Malfoy's heart of stone. No other woman, witch or not, could have ever done that.

For a long time, they were just looking at each other. No word was uttered and no muscle moved. After a while, everything around the two former enemies seemed to slow down and the laughter from the ballroom melted into the background. Draco couldn't hear anything besides his thumping heart and the small breaths escaping her mouth. A small, almost undetectable smile rushed over his face when he saw her eyes moving to his lips. He had the same thought and was about to give in when a small cough pulled both of them out of their own little world.

"Hermione?"

Ginny Weasley always had impeccable timing. Draco was the first to turn around and look into the intruder's direction. "Weasley."

She gave Draco a short nod. "Malfoy."

When Hermione found her bearings again she stepped away from the blond wizard.

"Well," she cleared her throat, "it was nice seeing you again, Draco," and with that Hermione Granger disappeared with the redhead through the door back inside the ballroom. Just before she was out of sight, Hermione turned her head back again. Brown eyes pierced his silver ones for a fragment of a second; she gave him one last smile, leaving Draco Malfoy standing alone in the night with only one thought on his mind.

She was back.


She was back and apparently he wasn't allowed to care. Hermione Granger was out of bounds for him. Not his fate. Laughable.

Any random person that crosses one's path has the potential ability to change a person's life for good or for worse, push them in a different direction, sculpt the personality and define who they are just through their mere existence, or at least so Draco thought. According to what he had learned today every person who ever mattered or influenced him was there deliberately, true randomness was a lie. And embracing your fate was just a synonym for a successfully abided plan.

Draco felt cold, and not because of the wailing wind, but because his mind was running around in circles and leading him to the most atrocious and unimaginable possibilities and places. He was beginning to comprehend the full extent of tonight's events and it wasn't creating a warm and welcoming feeling.

A secret part of the Ministry of Magic or even a company operating above the Ministry made sure that everyone lived by their fixed paths. No free will, no chance, no surprises.

Enforced fate.

They were all puppets in one big play. Draco started to wonder if there was someone who sat in a big fluffy chair somewhere in the audience, ordering his minions around to execute the plan, while watching how the play unfolded. What kind of sadist this person would be, having allowed all the things of the past, all the suffering, pain and destruction.

The war.


She looked strangely vulnerable when he first set his eyes on the brunette witch. Hermione Granger wasn't fragile, no, she was the epitome of strength, courage and never-wavering fight.

Seeing her broken was oddly unsettling.

It was one of those days where the weather on the outside matched the mood on the inside perfectly. Not that it was a big challenge to find a rainy summer day in England, but today Draco welcomed the clouded and fog bathed afternoon with open arms. It was no day for sunshine and happy feelings, but a day for yet another funeral.

The war had cost the wizarding world so much, but the fight wasn't over, not for a long shot. There were still a few of the Dark Lord's followers at large, who managed to escape the Ministry's clutches. They were scattered over the world, hiding and desperately trying to find a way back to avenge their Lord and Master and to upset the new-found balance within the Ministry of Magic and, above all, to kill those who betrayed them, with the Malfoy family on the top of the hunting list.

Their fortunate escape from all charges didn't set right with the remaining Death Eaters. Just the prior week, the Malfoy patriarch had managed to escape a half-hearted attempt on his life. Lucius Malfoy's companion, Goyle senior, hadn't been as lucky.

The burial had just ended when Draco found Granger sitting alone on a bench in the pouring rain without an umbrella or any magical shields. She was just sitting there - crying.

Draco didn't need an explanation. They all were here for the same reason; each and every one of them was feeling the same pain and loss. Their fight for the dark or light didn't matter. The pain was the same: irretrievable. The dead left the same empty space; all blood equal in death.

She didn't notice Draco as he sat down beside her, and her first reaction was a startled jump when he handed her a white handkerchief to dry her tears.

To his surprise, she took it without question.

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, paying no attention to their company.

"I never got the chance to thank you."

It was Draco who broke the quiet.

Hermione gave him with a quizzical glance from the corner of her eye. "For what?"

"Standing up for me and my family," he answered, "when we were in no position to deserve it. You could have just let us rot in Azkaban... like the rest of the world still wants us to."

His comment earned Draco a raised eyebrow and a doubtful look from the former Gryffindor. "What?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you 'thank' anyone before." Granger sounded genuinely shocked by his admission. "This might have been the nicest thing you've ever said to me, or anyone for that matter. And here I thought 'thank you' didn't belong in your vocabulary."

"Why thank you, again, Granger. I'll just take this as a compliment."

"Oh, it was, but don't let it get to your head. Merlin knows your ego doesn't need any more boosting."

Only the many years of proper education and drill from his father rescued him from laughing out loud when he noticed the slightly offended but definitely amused look on Granger's face.

And then she was smiling. Hermione Granger was genuinely smiling while looking at Draco Malfoy, of all people.

He couldn't bring himself to avert his eyes. It was in this moment that Draco Malfoy decided Hermione Granger's smile was the most beautiful and intoxicating thing in the world. They looked at each other for a few more moments before she stood up and walked away.


Draco wasn't sure what had compelled him to walk over there, sit down beside her, and then thank her. Although maybe, just maybe, it was because he actually meant it.

To this day, Hermione still had his handkerchief.

After almost a year now, Draco had formed some kind of theory as to what had happened that day. Even though both had been aware of each other since they first stepped into the walls of Hogwarts, maybe even too aware for their own good, it had taken them until this day to actually notice each other.

That was the thing with superficial appraisal; when Draco and Hermione finally took the time to look at one another, really look each other in the eye, their feelings turned out to be something entirely different and ultimately so much more than they were lead to believe. So much more than they could have ever imagined or hoped for.

What had begun that day was slowly shaping into something unknown to him, something special and something Draco Malfoy never wanted to miss again.

Friendship.

If those people were as omniscient as they claimed to be, then they had at least in part caused all of their suffering, either by active involvement or deliberate ignorance. The stranger had admitted to occasionally steer things to move the right way, the way given by their compulsory plan. Thus, they didn't take action when events already progress as they should. Either way, those creatures, because they were nothing more than that, knew things and they did things regardless of the outcome.

Blindly following orders, but whose orders?

We are here to bring order into the chaos, Mr Malfoy.

Everything for the greater good? That kind of reasoning failed before and would again if the outcome didn't justify the means.

And who were they to say that a relationship between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin was a bad idea? It could work.

Maybe...

Draco's supposed fate, Astoria, was out of the question. He didn't want her and he never would. The real question was regarding what he was prepared to sacrifice, if he decided to challenge The Correction Team'sauthority. Was he willing to put Hermione into danger, just so he could get what he wanted?

He knew Hermione well enough not to make such a choice alone. If she ever found out that he hadn't given her the chance to make up her own mind she wouldn't be amused, and an angry Gryffindor was a very bad way to begin the day - he had learned that lesson the hard way.


Draco Malfoy was proud to call himself an educated and, by any standards, fairly intelligent man. But the one thing he was certain never to understand was the mysterious ways in which the witch's brain worked. One second she was perfectly content, happy even, and the next she went ballistic about something he must have said or done. Needless to say that Draco had no bloody idea what he could possibly have done wrong, as always.

Nothing unusual, since this kind of loaded misunderstanding was the rather shaky and explosive foundation their new friendship was built on.

It had only been a few months after the cemetery meeting and the Slytherin found himself in a can't-live-with-but-certainly-can't-live-without bond with the ever so famous Gryffindor princess. Stranger things had happened and oddly enough it worked quite well, or at least it did when they weren't arguing.

Granger was more than just a match for him intellectually, she also completed him as a person. They were polar opposites, and as Blaise just recently had pointed out: Hermione was the only one who could deal with his shit and had the guts to put him in his place. Something told him that his former house mate wasn't only talking about friendship, and when he was perfectly honest with himself, Draco was thinking about 'more' as well.

She was good for him, probably even too good. No, most certainly too good and he was still contemplating what Hermione saw in him, what could have made her meet him again and again, talk to him, laugh with him or just sit in comfortable silence. He honestly didn't know and he was too scared to ask because of what the answer might be.

When Draco looked into those eyes, which were set on fire by sheer anger, he was certain that he wanted something else from her than just friendship.

By now Granger had been ranting about something, quite possibly the matter at hand that changed her mood so fast, when her face suddenly took on an irritated expression, which slowly turned into raw rage.

Draco cringed on the inside. This wasn't good.

"You don't even listen, do you? I wonder why I even bother, you really are still a spoiled little ferret."

"Well, maybe if you gave me the bullet point version..." He didn't even get the chance to finish his sentence when he was instantaneously brought back to the rather unpleasant scene during third year.

But just before her hand reached his left cheek, Draco caught her wrist in his hand and within the split of a second he made a bold and probably very bad decision. Do it or live on wondering, there was no time like the present to take what he wanted.

He kissed her and to his surprise she didn't move away.

She kissed him back.


An angry Gryffindor wasn't a good way to start the day but an excellent one to end it! Looking back now, the kiss turned out to be the beginning of the end of everything Draco thought to be true. The kiss let the two former enemies down a road they should have never taken in the first place, but what started as a rather odd friendship, very fast developed into a solid relationship.

Neither was looking for it but there it was anyway. Although, Draco was less surprised than Granger, after all she had been haunting him for years on end and if he was perfectly truthful, at this point in life Draco had been exactly where he wanted to be. With Hermione fucking Granger. Not that he would have ever under any circumstances admitted it to anyone besides maybe to the woman in question.

His undeniable inflation alone had made it all the more difficult for him to understand her sudden departure six months ago.

The unexplained and mysterious disappearance.

And all of the sudden it hit him like a bucket of ice water was tossed over his head.

The earth stood still, quite literally. The waves were only moving in slow motion, the seagulls making their slow circles around his head were only creating a muffled sound and the wind was reduced to a small breeze.

And Draco Malfoy was seeing everything crystal clear for the first time this evening.

The timeline was assimilated and it almost looked like everything was running smoothly without her in the picture.

Everything Hermione had told him, her confusing explanations as to why she had left so abruptly months ago, it all made perfect sense now. It was them all along.

They were the reason she was gone for almost six months without one word. For the first time this evening, the infamous Malfoy smirk spread over his face. No, it wasn't a coincidence at all. But then again he was sure, no, in fact he was certain that his new found friends had been predicting a slightly different outcome from this little scheme.


"The worst part was her laugh. Seeing her eyes light up with pure joy made my stomach turn and ripped my heart into shreds."

By now Draco regretted dearly having agreed to be silent and hear her out, yes, he wanted answers. He had agreed to meet her here today, so he could get some closure, but what Hermione was currently talking about was just excruciating and left him fighting to find the right words to respond. Maybe silence wasn't so difficult to manage after all.

"With you I always expected the fallout at some point." She sounded almost defeated. "I felt like I was drowning, holding my breath as long as I could, but always waiting for the air to run out."

With a short shake of her head Hermione continued: "When the owl with the invitation to your engagement party arrived all of my worst fears and expectations became true. With the snap of a finger my world fell apart, just like I had always anticipated. I felt so stupid, I should have known. The letter was mocking me, screaming 'I told you so'."

Draco's head was spinning. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. There never was an engagement. So why would Hermione get an invitation in her mail?

Silent tears where running down her face. Draco wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. But before he could make a move she lifted her head and looked at him with a fierce determination.

"I'm Hermione Granger. I don't give up that easily, right? So I went to confront you and what I found was plain and simple conformation. I saw you with Astoria, laughing. Sitting there drinking coffee."

She shook her head as if to rid herself of the offending memory.

"And I ran."

Hermione looked sad, so sad.


Hermione had looked just as sad as Draco felt on the inside.

It was no coincidence she got that invitation six months ago. It was no coincidence she walked in front of that precise restaurant. It was no coincidence Draco sat on that table with Astoria of all people and it certainly was no coincidence that Ron was there to give her the perfect way out. Convenient, yes surely, but no coincidence.

Draco sighed to himself. They had played with them.

He had a hard time thinking about Hermione's words. Bad enough for someone without his newly acquired knowledge, but for Draco the world stopped in its axis because what it actually showed was how powerful, resourceful and efficient The Correction Team really was and what kind of enemy he was up against. One that was not above the use of cheap tricks.

They were ruthless but without the use of violence.

There was one carnal rule Draco was going to live by now that he had taken a secret glimpse behind the curtain: nothing was ever what it seemed.

People lied, deceived, and covered up the truth: the oldest trick in the book. Trust no one and nothing unseen with own eyes. But what was one supposed to believe when a person can't trust his or her own eyes?

What if you held your boyfriend's engagement announcement in your hands that looked real enough and the fiancé's name wasn't yours? What if you saw said boyfriend with the alleged woman shortly after, laughing and clearly having fun?

You would believe what was in front of you and you might even have run as fast as you could.

Draco couldn't blame Hermione for taking Ron up on his offer to accompany him to Romania. The Weasel saw his chance to lure her away from the evil Slytherin and the Ministry had a rather convenient opening in the diplomatic department at the Romanian Ministry of Magic. Everything fit perfectly, as if guided by magic.

Draco snorted audibly. After all, no one could see or hear him in this place.

It had taken Hermione six months and the newest issue of Witch Weekly to realise the truth. An article about the most eligible bachelor in wizarding Britain opened her eyes about his apparent 'taken' status and resulted in her immediate departure and return to London.

Good riddance Draco was rich, handsome and unattached.

But however depressing it was to learn about what had happened, there was but one bright spot: Granger had come back for him.

Hermione's shattered appearance and the small 'I'm sorry' after Draco had told her that he never had been, nor planned to get engaged to Astoria Greengrass, had destroyed all of the last remaining walls within him.

He couldn't have sat there any longer without being able to hold her in his arms.

Having felt her body pressed up against his own once again was the single most perfect moment Draco had experienced in a long time. The smell of her hair had been intoxicating, so much so that he could have done nothing besides hold her and tell her that everything would be okay.

Draco laughed out right, scaring a few seagulls flying nearby.

He assured her that nothing and no one could ever keep them from each other again. What could possibly go wrong?

How about a secret organisation trying to manipulate their lives? But other than that, they were as good as married, living the 'happily ever after' with a carriage load of children, grandchildren and crazy Gryffindors running around Malfoy Manor.

No, there was no such thing as the perfect solution to his dilemma. And yet, the answer was as simple as a child's play.

Do or don't.

Being a coward had once before saved his life and kept him from an all too certain holiday in Azkaban. But in this case, choosing the path of a coward didn't seem to be the right course of action.

What it came down to was becoming clearer to Draco every second. Was he willing to risk everything, not just his life as it was, but Hermione's as well?

And the answer was yes. Yes, he was willing to risk it. No questions asked.

Some people believed in the pre-destination of their lives, a done deal. Those people thought they didn't have a choice, but they got it wrong.

They always had a choice. It was just easier to believe there was none.

With that last thought, Draco fastened the grip on his wand and Disapparated.


Finding the witch in question was an effortless task, since he already had agreed to meet her for dinner that night. Hermione was sitting at the far end of a small Italian Muggle restaurant, sipping on her wine glass and waiting for Draco to arrive.

Seeing her there only reassured him in his potentially harmful choice. He just couldn't let go of Hermione, foolish mistake or not. There simply was no way in hell Draco would give up that easily. He was a fucking Malfoy for crying out loud!

With a few confident strides he arrived at the table.

"You're late." Granger gave him a reproachable look that immediately turned into a joy-ridden smile.

After Draco had his first drink to silence his nerves, he began telling his tale from beginning to end. How he found himself overpowered by three anonymous wizards. How they introduced themselves as The Correction Team, and how they described their purpose and the business which had led them to obtain the Malfoy heir.

Granger always had a strong-willed mind and was not easily convinced by something that sounded as inane as this little fairytale. One hour of constant interceptions by her inquisitional questions and one bottle of the moist expensive wine available Draco felt both mentally and physically exhausted and was more than done talking for the night.

Now it was her turn to make a call.

"That's absurd."

Yes, exactly the response Draco was expecting. He sighed inwardly and ran shaky fingers through his hair. She didn't believe him. Who could blame her?

"Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?"

He only got the silent treatment and a raised eyebrow for that.

Okay, fair enough, but there was one last ace up his sleeve, one last chance to win the battle.

"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

Muggle quotes. Hermione used to love it, hearing him do that. She once told him that it was kind of sexy, Muggle quotes or sayings coming from his spoiled pure-blooded wizard mouth. Apparently it sounded utterly forbidden.

"You are seriously quoting Sherlock Holmes on me?" Her face was sporting equal amounts of anger and amusement. "I'm not even sure it makes sense in this case."

"It was worth a try, right? But honestly, after all those years, after everything we've seen," he paused to emphasize the next part, "everything we've done, can you actually sit there and tell me that there is no chance, no chance at all that what I just told you was possible? Can you?"

Hermione didn't answer right away but instead eyed him suspiciously and Draco wasn't backing down, he met her scrutinizing eyes as if to challenge her. He could practically hear that fabulous brain of hers work overtime, analysing and weighing the possibilities.

"I want proof."

"I wouldn't expect anything less." He got her, and actual proof would be easy enough to produce, for a wizard that is.


One week later the last remaining best kept secret of the earth was finally solved for Draco Malfoy.

He had learned from firsthand experience how The-Boy-Who-Won't-Die defeated the Dark Lord and made it seem like a lucky walk in the park. The secret weapon had a name.

Hermione Granger.

Draco had always known that said witch was a knowledge-hungry maniac when it came to books, but seeing her in action, observing the single minded devotion and precision with which she set out to solve a problem, was impressive to say the least.

The Malfoy heir was more than lucky to have her working on his side.

Within no time, she had uncovered the identity and whereabouts of a secret and, for all intents and purposes, non-existing part of the Ministry of Magic, without alerting the division in question. In other words, she did the impossible.

And the trick was a Muggle approach. Funding. Even classified operations needed payment.

All that was left for him was a plan to manipulate them, if not defeat and get rid of the whole rotten venture. And Draco Malfoy wouldn't be a Slytherin if he hadn't thought about the fastest and most adequate way of dealing with their little problem.

That being the fastest and most adequate way a Gryffindor would most likely approve of.

When Hermione had finally presented him with her findings, eager to come up with a suitable plan to stopThe Correction Team in their doings, Draco only regarded her with the infamous Malfoy smirk and a question.

"How would you feel about tempting fate?"


Oh the joy Draco experienced when he saw the boss of this little operation, bound to a chair and finally at hismercy.

"Well, hello again. I thought it was high time for me to get a word in edgewise, don't you think? You don't have to do anything; just be a good boy, sit there, and listen."

To both Hermione's and his surprise, the team was rather small and therefore easy to divide and conquer. After immobilising the foot soldiers, they finally got to the manager, and talking to him was pure satisfaction.

"Here is some food for thought." Draco never before sounded as cheerful as he did now. "How much would you like your little operation to be public knowledge? 'Rogue Ministry employees playing with our lives!' 'Unmasked God playing scheme within the walls of our government!' Oh, I'd love to see those headlines in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. Do you want to know what comes next?"

"How about, what else they have adjusted?" Hermione continued talking. "Aiding and abetting Voldemort, either by active support or turning a blind eye on his doings. I'm sure my best friend, Harry Potter, would simply love to know how you didn't stop Voldemort from killing his parents, just so he could find his true destiny and kill the bloody maniac all by himself." Her eyes were wide with fury. "It took him seventeen years and cost the wizarding world hundreds of lives. But who's counting, right?"

They were on fire.

"Where is your proof?"

"Ah, I thought you might ask. You made a grave mistake when you came for me and explained every little detail of your precious operation to me so freely. So please, we are both fully capable of magic, and I believe you can think of a way we can prove our," Draco paused, "'accusations.'"

"A Pensieve," the head of the crumpling Correction Team whispered breathless.

The memory was in a safe place and ready to be used at his leisure.

Draco Malfoy smiled.


Walking down a street and deciding whether to turn left instead of right on a whim could change a life. On the right, death might be waiting, whereas on the left, the love of one's life may be walking without a care in her or his life. Every decision had a potential to change the course of a life and every person met along the way had the ability to alter it for better or for worse.

If one just decided to stop on the way and let them into their life.

Draco had always liked the idea of chance combined with a dash of luck and a little bit of risk on top. Being raised to be in control, ahead of everyone and everything around him, did not harm his opinion, when in fact it worked to catalyse and fuel his drive.

Draco Malfoy was accustomed to being told what to do, how to live, and what to expect from life. In retrospect, he was foolish to believe that the death of the Dark Lord and his parents' admission of their crimes would allow him to be able to go his own merry way and commit his own mistakes and not those of others.

How wrong he turned out to be.

Even their little blackmailing scheme had only been the first battle in a long war. But fight they did. Gryffindors, he had learned, didn't rest until all evil in the world was annihilated.

It took them a lot of research, endurance, and unlikely alliances to get to the actual source behind The Correction Team, but in the end the good prevailed. As it always did in his world.

When Draco walks down London's streets today, holding Hermione Malfoy's hand, he was no longer filled with dread and a crippling numbness. There were no more oblivious souls around them, going about their lives, thinking that every decision they made was their own, when in fact they were nothing but puppets in a pre-written play.

No, those days were over.

And it felt good, not being the only anomaly anymore.


A/N: Anomaly was written for the dramione_duet on livejournal, second round 2010.
The story was loosely based on the idea behind the movie 'The Adjustment Bureau'. In fact very loosely, since I haven't seen the film yet.
A big thank you to my absolutely brilliant betas strawberrimelon, black_coffee13 and elvishly. And a very special thanks to my plot bunny, the fabulous rivertempest. This story wouldn't be what it is today without your inspiration and ideas.