Hello there! Here is the prologue to my first full-length story. As it is my first, I am going to please ask you to not flame me. If you don't like what I write, don't read it. Oh, here's the disclaimer-thingy:

Disclaimer: I do not own, profit from, or am in any way officially associated wit the HP series. I just wreak havoc with its characters.

On with the show!

Prologue

Hermione Granger was walking hurriedly down the sidewalk, passing apartment building after apartment building. She walked with the confidence of someone who has walked this route many times, and is sure in both direction and purpose. It was that time of year when spring was very obviously just around the corner, and yet there was still a cold nip in the air.

Hermione glanced at her watch, and sped up her pace. It was her habit to check up on Harry once a week at 2 o'clock, and she'd rather not be late.

In the year since the rather sudden end of Voldemort's life — and, subsequently, the war — the wizarding world seemed to be in a constant state of celebration. Everyone was glad that the megalomaniacal Dark Lord was gone. Not that all of their problems had been solved — far from it. There were still dozens of rouge Death Eaters wandering around causing havoc. And all of them would have loved to vent their rage on the causer of their current state of outlaw-hood, Harry Potter, or The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Grow-Up-And-Defeat-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, as the newspapers were now calling him. Ron had laughed and said that if they added any more hyphens, his title would be a whole paragraph. Ron was dating Pavarti Patil—of all people—and everyone was sure that it was going to become a permanent arrangement. Life was good, it seemed, good for everyone but the person who was responsible for this wonderful peace.

Harry had begun to become depressed sometime during the previous year. Ginny said that he didn't really know what to do anymore. His whole life had been focused on killing Voldemort, and Harry had never dared to dream that there would be an after. Harry had slept for over a month after the war had first ended in an almost catatonic state, and while he had regained consciousness, he never really regained his vitality. Hermione was worried about him. All of them were.

She turned a corner briskly, so intent on her thoughts that she didn't hear the voice calling her at first.

"Granger! Hey, Granger!"

Hermione walked on, oblivious to the person desperately attempting to gain her attention.

"Gran-ger! Hermione!"

Hermione whirled around. "Wha-" She gaped. "M-Malfoy? What-what on earth?"

Draco Malfoy caught up to her, leaning over in an attempt to regain his breath. "Thank Merlin you finally noticed." He said, grinning. "I thought I'd have to resort to even more drastic means to get your attention."

Hermione blinked, confused. "O-okay. What do you need? And make it fast, I'm supposed to meet Harry soon."

"Alright," Draco said, his face suddenly becoming serious. "Well, the thing is..." he trailed off, then took a breath, as though steeling himself. "I...need your help. I found a spell that will enable a single person to save tons of people, people who shouldn't have died, and I want to use it on you."

Hermione stared at him. "But...no spell can bring back the dead! That's impossible!"

"No, it isn't," Malfoy stated, "because you wouldn't be raising people from the dead. You would be changing the past."

"Changing the..." Her eyes suddenly widened in comprehension. "The spell will send me back in time!"

He nodded. "Yes. One of my ancestors created a spell, centuries ago, that would send a single person back to a specific date and location for a set amount of time. The person would travel to the past, alter what needed altering, and return to a changed timeline. It's called the Duabeo. The only catch is that the spell has to be performed by a Malfoy, or it won't work. It's also impossible to perform this spell on yourself. I've already tried it, and all I got for my troubles was a month and a half of magical exhaustion." He admitted with a grimace.

Hermione winced as well. Magical exhaustion was miserable. She wouldn't even wish that on Malfoy! "So, just to get this straight..." she clarified. "You want to perform a spell on me that will send me back to the past for a set period of time, allowing me to save as many people as I can." She frowned. "Why?"

"What?" Draco asked, confused.

"Why would you want to save tons of people whom you didn't even like? And why on earth would you want to use the spell on me?"

He sighed. "I want to use it on you because, honestly, you're the best one for it. Even when I really didn't like you, I still acknowledged that you were brilliant. Without being able to go myself, you're really the only person I can think to send who won't screw everything up. And...well..." he suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Not many people know this, but I had a little sister, and apparently, the Cruciatus curse is fatal for five-year-olds." Draco said in a slightly bitter tone. "I was mainly going to try to save her and Uncle Sev...er, Professor Snape, but I know you'll try to save others, as well."

Hermione stared. Of all the things he might have said, she hadn't been expecting that. "Oh, I see." She said.

Draco gave her a smile. "Look, let's do it this way. I'll give you a week to decide. If, a week from today, you want to go, meet me at the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade at 10:00am. If not, well...I guess I'll be seeing you around."

She nodded, still feeling rather overwhelmed. "That will be all right, I suppose."

"Great!" he grinned. And with that, Malfoy Apparated away. Hermione shook herself, and then continued on her way to Harry's apartment, pondering her strange encounter.

SS*MPYF*HG

Exactly a week later, Draco was standing in front of the fence that separated the Shrieking Shack from the rest of the village. He was waiting for Granger to show up, but he had been here three hours and she still hadn't arrived. Suddenly, he heard the tell-tale pop of Apparition, and he turned to see Hermione Granger running up, looking agitated.

"I've decided." She announced.

Draco raised an eyebrow in bemusement. "Yes, I think I can see that." He said wryly.

Granger nodded hesitantly. "I'm sorry I'm late," she added, "but... We had some problems."

He frowned. "Problems?" Problems that made you three hours late? He wondered.

"Yes. Harry... He..." Draco was startled to notice that Hermione's eyes were filled with tears.

"What did Potter do now?" He asked in surprise.

"He... He tried to kill himself this morning. It was horrible! And he won't talk to any of us..." She sighed, wiping tears from her eyes. "That sort of decided it for me. And helped me pick a date. I want to save Harry's parents too."

Draco blinked. "Alright, then. What's the date?"

"April 1, 1979."

He nodded, suddenly serious. "Okay...You need to stand here," he ordered, motioning to a spot he had already cleared off. "And take this," he added, tossing her a full knapsack. "It's got some basic stuff for you; money, a false name, credentials in case you actually have to enter society for a while, and a note you should use if you're ever in trouble."

"A note?" She inquired in surprise. "What's in it?"

Draco shrugged. "It's sort of a from-future-head-of-Malfoy-House-to-past-head-of-Malfoy-House letter. Any Malfoy training to become head of their Family will have heard of this spell, and the note technically says that you are under the protection and direction of Malfoy House, and they should treat you as such. Hey, you did pack a bag or something yourself, didn't you? Because I didn't really pack you any clothes or essentials."

"Oh." She was flabbergasted. A Malfoy was trying to protect her? He was giving her money? And an identity? And credentials to go with that identity? "Th-thanks. And yes, I've got everything I need in here." She pulled a small beaded handbag out of her pocket.

"Undetectable Extension Charm," she said, grinning at his bewildered expression. "This is what Harry, Ron, and I kept our luggage in when we were on the run." The smirking girl explained as she forced the knapsack into the much smaller handbag.

He nodded, a smirk spreading on his face. Clever, Granger. Clever.

Draco's expression suddenly became focused. "Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded, to nervous to speak, as she shoved her handbag down her sock.

Draco began chanting in Latin, a glowing circle appearing around Hermione.

"Veneficus mei priorum, adservis mihi eripere meum populum. Transporto is puella tergum ut primoris dies qurati mensis obvius annus undeviginti centum undeoctoginta..."

From the first line he incanted, Hermione felt a sudden burst of power and, at the same time, the magic swirling around her restrained her, preventing her from leaving the circle and breaking the spell. Suddenly there was a commotion, but she couldn't quite tell what was going on. Draco kept chanting.

"...Transporto eam ut domus mei veri abbas, et adiuvis defendesque eam in negotium. Revertis eam..."

Just as Draco was beginning another line, a flash of light sped towards him. He fell to the ground, unconscious. Hermione, who had by now been lulled into an almost dreamlike state by the archaic magic, didn't realize there was something wrong until it was too late. Three spell sped towards her, hitting her in the chest one after another. The magic, sensing that its mission was in danger, did the only thing possible. There was a flash of light, and Hermione was gone.

Where she had been standing, there was a charred circle in the grass, and an unconscious young man nearby. This was the scene which confronted the Aurors who arrived a mere five minutes later.

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The (very rough) incantation translation for Duabeo: "Veneficus mei priorum, adservis mihi eripere meum populum. Transporto is puella tergum ut primoris dies qurati mensis obvius annus undeviginti centum undeoctoginta. Transporto eam ut domus mei veri abbas, et adiuvis defendesque eam in negotium. Revertis eam..."

"Magic of my ancestors, help me to rescue my people. Send this girl back to the first day of the fourth month of nineteen hundred seventy-nine. Send her to the house of my true father, and aid and protect her in her task. Return her..."

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