A Prequel to a Prequel

There are many moments that define a person's life. Moments of joy, sorrow, pain, and, in my experience, even boredom. But there is that one moment that defines the rest of your life. There is that one moment where you are given too many or far too few options to choose from. In that moment that you are in, you are either given nothing more than mere minutes and seconds or life gives you endless days to choose what path you will follow.

Sometimes we overlook little choices and never think that it was at that moment that your life would change forever. My grandmother always told me, "Don't go looking for big miracles. They occur only once in a great while. Concentrate on the small miracles that we overlook every day. The first flower to bloom in a withering garden; the movement of your child within your womb; the love you hold in your heart. Those are the miracles that make this world a place I want to live in." Miracles are like moments. Don't think that only the big ones count. Sometimes, it's the smaller ones that make the biggest difference in your life.

But in that moment, things will happen and choices will be made that will forever change the course of your story, and even the stories of those around you. That moment will forever be burned in your memory, and that moment will outshine all other moments in your life. Sometimes the path from that junction will be so strenuous all you want to do is turn back, but you can't. Other times you will want to sit down and take a break, but there are no breaks in life.

Your life isn't like taking a turn about the park. Once you set out after that moment, you can't go back. You can cry, shout, scream, and fight, but once you make that choice at that moment that defines the rest of your life, there is nothing you can do to change what might/could/should/would have been.

Not even a Time-Turner Necklace.

Flashback Harry & Hermione 6th Year

He couldn't stand the sight of her crying. It always pained him so. She, who was giving, loving, kind, and smart, should never shed a single tear.

But, above all else, she only saw him for the person that he was on the inside. While he was known throughout the Wizarding community as the Boy Who Lived, to this girl at his side he was simply Harry Potter. And he loved her for that.

This girl was barely a woman, but she had faced more than most adults who lived to see the ripe old age of 102. This was the girl who always had all the answers. This was the girl who he could turn to at a moment's notice, and she would forsake all others and come running to aid him in any and every way she could.

He'd always loved her, but never in that way. But at this moment, on these steps, in that tower room, he felt something else entirely. Anger.

It surged through his body and awakened every single cell that he contained. Although this feeling wasn't new to him, this time it consumed him and ate away at him. HE felt like his body was made of wax, and this sobbing girl in his arms was an open flame. Her pain devoured him. His anger at HER consumed him.

Harry knew that she loved Ron, but never before had it been as apparent as this. Never before this moment had she ever come out and stated her feelings so plainly, and now that she had, though he comforted her with meaningless words, he felt nothing but anger. No, that wasn't true. He felt jealous. Jealous of Ron. Ron had always had the love of his family and friends. People didn't flock to Ron because he was famous for something that he didn't even remember. People became friends with Ron because he was a likable bloke. Ron never had to fear that someone would use him for his nonexistent money or for his unimportant family name. Ron could accept an offer of friendship as nothing more than what it was, an offer of friendship.

People would always turn to Harry because he was the Chosen One. Everybody had so far. Sure, he had friends, but why had they become his friends? Because he was Harry fucking Potter. The only true person who had ever befriended and loved him for him was this girl, Hermione. Not even his precious Ginny had liked him for him. She had liked him because of the story her parents would tell her of the famous Harry Potter. She wanted the hero in him. The same thing everybody else wanted.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry for carrying on so much. You have to deal with this every day you see Ginny with Dean. And even before Dean, she was always with someone else. It's not fair for me to cry like this to you, "Hermione stated, rather suddenly bringing him out of his disturbing thoughts. Harry simply looked down at her tear-streaked face and kissed her. Hermione, eyes wide open in shock, tried to push him off gently, but seeing as she was rather small, especially compared to him, she didn't really have a chance. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, Harry let her go.

"I need you, Hermione. We need each other. It makes no sense to pine after people who obviously don't feel the same way we do about them," Harry told her, gently stroking her cheek while hugging her waist with his other arm. He pulled her to him once again, and this time she almost went willingly.

Harry pulled her closer, almost crushing her to him. Though she had only meant to comfort him, her words had only enraged him even further. Hermione was right. Ginny was always with someone else. Even though she'd confessed to liking him years ago, and even though Hermione had told him Ginny still did like him, that didn't stop her from being passed from guy to guy. He could feel Hermione trying to push him away, but he had to be on top for once. Just once he had to get the girl before someone else did.

"Please, Hermione. I don't think I can go another night feeling so unwanted. So unloved," he knew exactly what to say to convince her. And even though that little voice in the back of his mind told him he shouldn't be doing this to the only person who did love him, he couldn't stop.

Hermione eventually stopped resisting him. It felt wrong to kiss him like this, but she was so alone. She'd never been kissed before by anybody, not even Krum. And to feel the need and desire she felt from Harry's kiss was gratifying. She, the bookworm, needed this. At least one time, she had to be selfish. She needed to be wanted. And there was a voice inside her that maliciously whispered all her shortcomings. So, she allowed Harry to be her blanket. She allowed him to save her from herself that night.

And that is where they lay, struggling to learn the secrets of passion, that neither had ever known before. In that tower they stopped being children.

Unbeknownst to them, however, a slight young man with blond hair and silver eyes was slowly opening the door. He'd heard Hermione crying as he was walking through the castle trying to clear his mind. He'd heard her cry enough times, that he knew no matter what happened or how long he'd live he would always remember the sound of her distinct sobs. What he wasn't prepared for, though, was the sight before him. There she was in his arms; the scar-faced git. He slowly and quietly closed the door again and backed away from the room.

He would never admit to anyone that seeing those two had been the worst thing he'd ever seen. Seeing the horrors of the Dark Lord were nothing compared to seeing that filthy bitch being groped by that wanker. Gods, how he hated them with a passion. Especially her. She was everything he had always been against, and now seeing her allowing Potter to touch and kiss her made him decide he needed to move along with his plans. Draco had been terrified of failing, so terrified, in fact, that he had almost gone to that old loony, Dumbledore, and ask for help for his mother, and father, and for himself. But seeing Mudblood Granger act like a common slut shattered those thoughts.

He would do what the Dark Lord had commanded, and then when the Wizarding world was at his Master's feet, he would make her pay for her actions that night. This was the moment he resolved that he would get his fellow Death Eaters into Hogwarts, and he, Draco Lucius Malfoy, would kill Dumbledore, protector of Mudbloods, like her.

Standing straighter than ever before in his life, Draco walked determinedly to the Room of Requirements. Sleep could wait, but the Vanishing Cabinet would not repair itself.

Back in the room in the tower, Harry held a naked Hermione as she silently mourned her lost virginity. She, who had always prided herself at being level-headed had allowed her virtue to be taken from her in a moment of grief and passion. "At least it was to my very best friend," she thought, trying desperately to console herself. However, she knew she had to speak up and make things clear to Harry.

"Harry, I want you to know I don't regret what just happened, but I do love Ronald. And I will wait for him. I love you, too, but we can't allow our emotions to overcome us like that again. At least we know there won't be consequences to this night. I'm on birth control, but you have to remember to ask the next girl. She might not be using any form of contraceptive, and the last thing you want is-"

"Hermione, do you ever stop lecturing? Not even a good shag gets you to hush up," he cut her off, jokingly. For a moment they just looked at each other, but then the silence was shattered by their combined laughter. Hermione felt relief at his apparent agreement to her thoughts about not wanting anything to progress between them after this night, but little did she know that Harry was silently rejoicing. He finally had taken something right from under Ron's nose. It didn't matter if she ended up with Ron or even some other man at the end. He, Harry, had been her first lover, the taker of her innocence, he had made her a woman, and Hermione would never forget that.

As they dressed and walked back to their common room, each was silent, lost in their own thoughts. There was much that each had learned that night from the other. Harry now knew that Hermione had a small beauty mark under her left breast and small birthmark on her left hip that looked like a four-leaf clover if you squinted. Hermione, on the other hand, now knew that Harry had started growing chest hair and made rather girlish noises when he came. "But maybe all men make those same noises. It's not like I can compare it to anything else."

What neither of them knew was that, that moment had been the moment that changed their lives completely. Not the troll in first year. Not the Yule Ball when Harry finally saw how beautiful Hermione really was. Nor was it fifth year when he thought she was dead from the curse to her chest.

That moment of jealousy and anger, of sadness and longing had been the moment that would change their lives from that day forward. They might not have noticed it, but their actions that night had caused the calm waters around them to shift and begin to ripple. Maybe not soon, but those ripples would soon cause the biggest disturbance those calm waters had ever seen.

A/N: So, here I did start another story, but it might just end up being a one-shot depending on reviews and the time I have.

I also am still working on Tumbling Down. I would never abandon it. I have had time to write it, but some of the PMs that people sent me, kind of made me back off and see exactly what it was that I wanted to do with that story.

Anyways, thank you so much for your time, and hopefully your reviews.

Take Care! And constructive criticisms are always most thankfully accepted, but let's try to be polite about it. And if anyone can tell me how to get a beta, I would definitely appreciate that.