Draco frowned. It couldn't be possible. He flipped back to the beginning of the journal entry and reread the entry slowly.

August 3, 1866

I told Claudius today. I let him know the truth. I had to. At first I thought perhaps he might ask for a divorce however, he has at least reassured me that he still loves me. I only wish I had not told him about Lucius and Draco. He was just so depressed about our failed attempts at conceiving. I had to let him know the line would go on. He isn't speaking to me at the moment; however, I know he will come around. I hope he will come around.

It still unnerves me somewhat to know that the boy who tormented my life for my first six years of school was or will be my own great-grandchild. The girl I once was cannot help but hold some satisfaction in knowing that the Ferret was not so pureblooded as he thought. I wonder how he would react if he ever found out?

It also saddens me to know that they will become deatheaters. I am not for certain Draco has taken or will take the mark; however, if he follows his father's path… How I wish I could change the paths they will take; however, I know there is little I can do. The best I can do is hope to raise our child, when he comes to us, to look upon muggleborns as equals.

I remember the day of my sorting. It was odd being sorted as a seventh year, even more than it had been those years ago in 1991. It was extraordinarily odd seeing an eleven-year-old Albus Dumbledore climbing the stair to be sorted. To think I am older than him now. It is somewhat surreal. I remember thinking how ancient he was.

I was for sure I would follow in Albus' footsteps, perhaps form a friendship with him like I had with Harry. I almost fainted upon hearing the hat's declaration, me a Slytherin. It was almost comical. I wonder how Harry and Ron would have reacted. I cannot help but picture Ron's horrified face. I am not so sure about Harry. He confided to me once that the hat had considered placing him in the rival house. It was Claudius with his formal, well bred manners that stood and offered me a seat at the Slytherin table. To think I fell in love with a Malfoy.

I think I hear Claudius returning. He has been in the gardens all morning. He was so very disappointed to learn how proud his line had become. He had hoped to leave that behind him with the death of his father. I hope my suspicion regarding Draco is will be correct. I hope one day he will be able to see through clear eyes. I told Claudius my suspicions on the matter. I saw some of the change in him before the accident. I think when his father was arrested it had an effect on him. I hope Lucius also sees through his pride, though I have less hope for my grandson. Grandson. It is still so very difficult to think that Lucius Malfoy will one day be my very own grandson.

Well, I must go see to Claudius. We are going to Hogwarts this evening to visit Holton. I hope Claudius refrains from teasing him about his red nose. The man has had quite a time. I hear he is on a diet at the moment and I am sure his new position as Headmaster has provided him with a bit of stress. He doesn't need Claudius' remarks. As much as I love the man, he cannot seem to help himself when it comes to tormenting Holton.

Hermione G. Malfoy

Draco stared down at his great grandmother's signature and took a deep breath. There was no mistaking it. He recognized her signature from the prefects reports they had to turn in every month. Hermione Granger, the mudblood, was his own great-grandmother.

He felt nauseous. He was surprisingly not disgusted with the fact he was related to a mudblood; he felt ill because he had been so horrid to his beloved Gran. He remembered his great-grandmother who had died when he was eight. She had been extraordinarily kind to him and told him wonderful stories. He had loved her above his own mother. Her death had been hard on him.

He looked up from the parchments and across the library to where a group of Gryffindor students were seated. Granger was there. His beloved great-grandmother was there. It was hard to resist the urge to hurry over and latch onto her. To tell her how much he missed her.

He was disgusted with himself. He felt horrible. He thought about her hopes expressed in the journal. He studied Granger's face and wondered why he hadn't recognized the resemblance before. He couldn't help but allow his usually tight expression to relax and form a soft smile as he remembered his great-grandmother's wild frizzy gray hair. He had loved to touch it.

Hermione felt as though someone was watching her. She looked up from her book to see Draco Malfoy looking at her with what seemed an expression of endearment. To say she was shocked was an understatement. She quickly glanced behind her to see if perhaps he was looking at someone behind her, perhaps Pansy Parkinson. She had heard they were back together.

No, he was looking at her. Odd. She shook her head and looked down at her book. She couldn't help but think that Draco Malfoy may not be as horrible as he seemed. She then let out a soft sigh and began reading once more.

It was later that evening she was standing in the entry hall when she remembered the essay due for potions the next morning. She had been so preoccupied with preparing for the transfiguration exam they had that afternoon she had forgotten. She quickly pulled out the time-turner that Professor McGonagall had returned to her for the year. She would go back a few hours and finish the essay and all would be well.

Just as she began to turn the dial Pansy Parkinson appeared from the stair leading to the dungeons. Upon seeing Granger standing there she raised her wand. She had seen the look Draco had given the mudblood in the library. How dare the filth make Draco smile like that? Pansy had been pining over it all afternoon. Draco had never looked at her that way.

Hermione felt the trip-jinx hit her in the back and before she could see who had cast it at her, she went tumbling forward down the stairs leading to the kitchens. Her time-turner went spinning out of control and only stopped when the Gryffindor hit the bottom and it came crashing down, shattering into millions of tiny fragments onto the stone floor.

It was Headmaster Everard who found her at the bottom of the stair. The old wizard had been on his way to the kitchens for a midnight snack when he found the mysterious girl. It was the summer of 1851 and there was still another month before the students started to arrive for the next term. He saw the remains of what looked like one of those fancy new gadgets the Ministry was experimenting with. It was a broken time-turner. His bushy grey eyebrows rose into his hairline.

"Oh my!" was all he could say.

With a wave of his wand he levitated the young woman and began the assent up the stair to take her to the infirmary. If what he suspected were true, this young woman not only would be suffering from a physical injury from a fall but shock due to her displacement in time. He knew of no way to send her back. It was quite a predicament.

And that… was how Hermione's journey from Granger to Malfoy began.