Author's disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and everything in it belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Brother and Bloomsbury Publishing and Arthur A. Levine Books.

All of the chapter titles and other film references belong to the various film distribution studios and other copyright owners. No copyright infringement intended, only a bit of fun :)

Chapter 1 – Blast From The Past (1999)

"Grande mocha!"

Hermione Granger elbowed her way through the throng of women that had suddenly flooded the coffee shop to pick up her drink order. Smiling her thanks at the frazzled barista, she took a sip of her coffee, nodded her approval, and then turned towards the exit. Taking another drink, she took a few steps forward before she saw the image that made her choke.

Sputtering, she grabbed onto the counter as she tried to recover from the shock of seeing that face from her past – a face that has reappeared to her in the most unlikely place imaginable.

"Malfoy…" Hermione gasped.

"Pardon me?" The middle-aged woman looked up, annoyed, from behind her paperback romance.

Hermione stuttered. "Nuh…nothing. Sorry to disturb you."

The woman looked at her strangely, sniffed, and then returned to her book.

Hermione closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then opened them slowly.

No, she had not been mistaken. That face. That hair. Lucius Malfoy was indeed present in front of her, with that signature blond mane and his shirt off, plastered on the cover of that woman's book.

The swooning buxom brunette in his arms was most definitely NOT his wife, Narcissa.

In her haste to escape the offending book cover, Hermione stumbled out of the coffee shop, and spilled her coffee all over herself.

Sighing heavily, she looked around for an alleyway where she could take out her wand to discreetly scourgify the mess, when distinctly female screaming began to emanate around her.

What the…

A sea of women surged forward and carried Hermione down the street. Helpless, Hermione fought to keep herself from getting trampled on and went with the flow.

The screaming grew louder, more thunderous.

Finally the crowd stopped, but the shrieking unfortunately did not.

Hermione crawled between the legs of the demented females, and spotted a narrow pathway that seemed to be clear. She headed over in that direction, dodging stomping feet as she went.

She was covered in coffee, and completely dishevelled. The crowd suddenly lost control and just in the nick of time, Hermione emerged out of the fray. She found herself on the middle of a red carpet.

Standing up in the clearing, she dusted herself off and turned to leave when a black SUV pulled up, flashbulbs began popping, and the screaming reached a fever pitch. The vehicle doors swung open to reveal a resplendent Lucius Malfoy, in black, form fitting, very designy, muggle wear. He started waving and blowing kisses to the frenzied female horde braying at him. The screaming, if one could believe it, intensified. This time there was chanting. "Lucio! Lucio! Lucio!"

No. Freaking. Way.

Of course only Lucius Malfoy would choose such an obvious moniker. And decide to show up right at that moment. She had to get out of there. And get her hands on some brain bleach. Or better yet, turn around, return to Hogwarts and beg Professor McGonagall to obliviate this particular visual out of her head. Actually, make that two nasty visuals she just encountered within the last ten minutes.

Holding her hands up in surrender and nodding respectfully at the security guards who were finally moving towards her, she began to move towards the only escape route she could see – the entrance of her once beloved favourite Muggle book shop.

She was almost at the door when a possessed, deranged fan vaulted over the security barrier and threw herself onto the carpet. This prompted a wave of screaming fans to knock over the barrier and teem onto the carpet. The security detail was completely overwhelmed and once again Hermione was carried by the wave of frantic female bodies before being deposited in an undignified heap to the ground. Curling up into the fetal position, Hermione braced herself for the stampede and looked for an opportunity to safely apparate discreetly.

"Ladies," a familiar drawl invoked immediate silence and compliance.

This was her chance. She pulled out her wand, when a voice yelled "You! In the red coat!" and a gloved hand grasped her wrist firmly as she was tackled by a zealous security guard.

"Drop it," the voice bellowed.

Hermione's wand fell out of her hand as she surrendered. Now what?