Full Summary: Hermione discovers she has been under the influence of Amortentia since Fifth year and enlists Harry and Draco's help to change all their lives for the better by going back to when they were 10 (11 in Hermione's case) and making the changes they had hoped would occur the first time round in the world. Please note that this may or may not be a Harmony fic. I have yet to decide on the paring(s) if at all I have one/any. Warnings: May contain mentions of Torture, Rape, Time Travel, Ron/Ginny/Molly/Dumbledore bashings.

Harry was pacing in Sirius' old bedroom. He was going to ask Ginny to marry him today. She'd been in love with him since she was a little girl and he had grown to love her. But there was something holding him back. Hermione had told him two days ago that she was going to accept Ron's proposal and she had done it yesterday, at The Burrow, in front of everyone. He had finally lost his last chance.

He'd lost so many chances. In First year in the potions room, in Second year when she'd been unpetrified, in Third after saving Sirius, Fourth to the Yule Ball, Fifth after her brilliant idea to lose Umbridge, Sixth when Ron was off with Lavender and finally last year when they had spent months alone in the Forest of Dean, every single shot he had been afraid she had not returned his feelings. And now there was proof; she was in love with Ron.

Harry punched a wall as his eyes welled up. He'd forgotten about the constant shield he had up ever since inventing it during an Auror training session six months ago. His fist went right through blasting a hole in one of the external walls. "Crap!" Harry quickly fired off a wandless Reparo. If anyone had told Harry back at the start of Sixth year that he would be the youngest Auror to join DMLE ever, he would have laughed in their face and shown them his Potions mark. But ever since the funeral they'd held post Hogwarts Battle, where Hermione had clung to Ron like her life depended on it, and Ginny had tried to do the same to him, he had thrown himself into Auror training. Ron had joined too, but he put in the least amount of effort and was rather affronted whenever Harry was praised instead of him. Harry had invented numerous spells both defensive and offensive and quickly showed up all the other trainees. The only person who could even keep up with Harry had been Blaise, and then only because he had a near Hermione-esque knowledge of both light and dark magic. Ron was still his friend but he spent more time with Blaise and at work than he did at The Burrow or with Ginny. The farce with Ginny was simply because he couldn't bear to break her heart like Hermione had his. He was going to visit Hermione at St Mungos before he took Ginny out to the most expensive restaurant in Diagon Alley, her choice naturally, to propose. Okay, Harry decided. There wasn't any point wallowing by himself when he could be spending more time with Hermione.

Much like Harry's progress in the DMLE, Hermione had shown a fierce determination for learning the art of Healer Magic. She would only graduate in two more years, but this was still a full year earlier than most other graduates and Hermione would only completed her NEWTs by correspondence this year. She had started with basic healing and diagnosing like the other trainees but had swiftly chosen her path; research into cures for dark curses. She still had shifts at St Mungos but spent most of her free time researching.

This was something Harry didn't mind one bit as Hermione had taken to practically living in the Library at Grimmauld Place. He had no idea how she had the time to do accelerated Healer training, research she wouldn't need to start till she graduated, be in the process of completing all possible NEWT's (including Divination) and have time to train with Harry whenever he asked to try out a new spell or modify an old one. In fact Harry did not think he would be able to maintain the shield like he could now had it not been for Hermione's idea of having him stand wandless in the duelling room they had added, as she spelled numerous objects both visible and disillusioned to fly at him simultaneously, for three hours straight. And of course he had to teach her every new trick he perfected as payment. If she only knew how much he enjoyed being in her company, even if she had no romantic intentions.

Hermione for her part had only used the Time Turner whenever she felt the need to sleep. She could go for days not being able to sleep because of memories of Malfoy Manor when her forearm had been carved up, but once she was tired enough she would time turn back ten hours (she never slept more than eight though) and then have gained two hours at the least for more research. She was progressively making her way through all the books that Sirius had been unable to remove on dark magic. She had even found a rather interesting one on how to create these spells. But by far the most useful tome she had encountered was on how the three Unforgivable's originated. It had shocked her at first to know that they had all been meant for good. The death curse was sort of like euthanasia but the Duke who invented it had only used it to put animals that got stuck in his Moors out of their misery. From there it had entered Hospitals and then the general public before being outlawed. Imperius had actually started as a way for the insane to be given relatively decent lives with their families able to tell them what to do without getting to specific and the castee feeling carefree and happy and in control of their motor skills so long as the castors wishes were carried out. Naturally this curse had escalated but Hermione understood the motives of the Healer who had invented this one in the early 17th century, who had had a sister with what Muggles would call Down syndrome. She could see how the sister would be treated by her peers, ridiculed all her life (extended because of magic) and the Healer would have had to grow up in that kind of environment. No doubt the girl's sister had chosen to pursue that particular path to find a cure and the Imperius at the time would have seemed like the next best thing. The Torture Curse on the other hand really didn't make sense to Hermione. It was supposed to be like acupuncture except Cruciatus wasn't focused on a single point. Hermione would know. It caused the whole body to be in agony. But there might be something behind it all being in the mind. Naturally the Cruciatus Curse was the one Hermione was focusing on, what with Neville's parents still occupying beds in the permanent ward.

When Hermione wasn't doing any of the numerous productive things that Hermione did, she was spending time with Ron her soon to be husband, as of yesterday. Hermione didn't not know a lot of things but when she thought about her relationship with Ron there were parts that she sometimes wondered about. She did however know that she was in love, and that love clearly did not make sense otherwise there wasn't a way in hell Harry would be courting Ginny; the girl who had hero worshipped him since she had first heard his name. Harry would always be just Harry to her and that was how he liked it, so once again love baffled.

She was currently on duty on the Potion and Plant Poisoning floor, musing on what had made her say yes. She had been pondering his question for a good day when he had held her hand under the table at the Burrow and looked into her eyes, amidst the raucous laughter and bustle of lunch with the Weasley's, all of them except one, and she had been filled with love for Ron so she had jumped up and shouted yes and they had kissed and everyone had cheered. She had been happy at that moment yesterday but thinking back on it now she wasn't sure she was ready. Ron was still in Auror training and she was in Healer training. If they got married he would want to start a family immediately, or at least have sex and she didn't think she was ready to get pregnant. Ron would be offended if she suggested preventive measures, she was sure. Hermione had actually been surprised that Ron had not pressed her that far yet. She guessed he must not have been a virgin thinking back to the whole Lav Lav Won Won episode of their lives, but he surely must not have been cheating on her. He loved her and that was enough she supposed for him to reign in such tendencies and for her to say yes at such a young age.

Hermione wondered over to visit a new patient who was just being checked now by one of the Healers. She loved how her training was so hands on. In the Muggle world she would have had to study for years before being allowed to observe such a meeting between doctor and patient. The boy was currently under the influence of a mixture of potions and was turning interesting shades of colours. He seemed to be unable to speak, but his Mother was rattling off on how he had just been experimenting with potions ingredients at home. Hermione had long since realised why all the Slytherin's had seemed extraordinarily good at Potions, and it wasn't just because of Snape. They had practiced before Hogwarts. It wasn't illegal but the knowledge of this loophole in the underage magic law was privileged. The Healer was doing a diagnostic scan over the boy now. He sent a missive off for some Potions for the boy and then moved on. Hermione watched as the boy turned from puce to mustard and then to a very pretty cobalt, what a curious effect. She was so lost in thought and mesmerized by the rather innovative result of the boy's mishap that she didn't even notice the tray of potions floating towards the boy. The Nurse levitating the tray wasn't paying much attention either and the next thing she knew Hermione was covered in antidotes and reversal potions tailored to the boy's condition. These were meant to be taken in a specific order and in precise amounts so Hermione knew she needed to stop their effects on her and she needed to do it fast. So recalling back to when Harry had beaten her for the Felix Felicis potion in Sixth year she summoned a Bezoar and shrunk then swallowed it.

...

If anyone asked Draco Malfoy if he was happy with his life he would have scoffed in their face. Of course he was happy. He was finally free of his Father who had moved with his Mother to the villa in the South of France, once relinquishing Head of the Family to Draco. Since the Ministry had been unable to touch the Malfoy fortune due to the Wizengamot still compromising mostly pureblood Wizards and Witches, Draco had been basically pushing money at various companies and generally getting a feel for how to lead Lucius Malfoy's life. He even had the trophy wife, Astoria Greengrass, on his arm, and a marriage clause that meant fidelity was out the window, at least for him. But if Draco were to be honest with himself, he would realise that he wasn't actually happy. Being on the Wizengamot for over a year now, Draco was fully aware of how nothing had changed. All the Laws were still the same, granting power to those of the right birth or at least those who killed off any who could say otherwise and then pretended to be of the right birth. He was still rather pissed off that Tom Riddle had been a Half Blood. Draco was also aware that he was being subtly pushed in the direction of having an Heir by his Mother. Almost every letter she sent made references and before long she was going to say it to his face. There really wasn't anything wrong with Astoria. As far as trophy wives went she fit the part. But Draco had had sex with her a total of two times. Once on their wedding night where he'd been astonished to find out she was a virgin, (Blaise had been lying) and then a second time on their honeymoon where he'd learnt that Astoria didn't like sex and thought of it as something she just had to lie back and take if she wanted pretty things. He'd attempted to rid her of such notions but the moment he touched her in any way that caused her pleasure she would scold him. It had almost been like rape in Draco's mind. And really if he were to have a kid with her she would simply push the child onto their house elves. Draco wanted a family. Not quite like his had been but at least with some facade of love. He would be damned if his son had a worse childhood than he did. His Mother had loved him, and Astoria most definitely wouldn't love their child, if the emotions she mustered towards him were any indication. Draco also didn't know if he wanted to bring a child into the world in its current state. He would never vouch for Mudblood's publically but he'd grown out of his childhood notions that they were the scum on the bottom of his feet. If Granger was anything to go by Mudblood's could be intelligent and cunning and fierce... whenever he thought of Granger, which wasn't often mind you, he pictured her thrashing in the parlour under Aunt Bella's knife. It was a recurring nightmare for him, only he often wasn't just a bystander. He might be doing the carving or holding the wand that was Crucioing her, sometimes even cackling and whispering insults into her ear as she writhed in pain beneath him, mouth open in a silent scream. He awoke from these drenched in sweat as if he had been the one being tortured.

Draco had long gotten over his grudge against Potter and really if you wanted a perfect example of how the whole blood thing was inaccurate one just had to look at the Golden Trio. There was a Pureblood who should be grateful for his Mud and Half-blooded friends. Potter was a rising star at the Ministry and Granger had already found a counter curse for Dolohov's signature move and numerous potions that sped up recovery for various wizarding ailments and she hadn't even graduated as a Healer yet! And then there was Weasley. Not even in third year Auror training as most war veterans were including Blaise who had participated in a small fraction of the battles Ron ha; his only achievement really was his engagement to Granger.

Of course Weasley was probably the worst example of a Pureblood possible. One had only to look at his siblings' achievements, the least of which happened to be the one at the Ministry who was now an undersecretary to the Minister himself, to see where the brains had gone. Draco had even found some of the Weasley Twins' products quite useful and not just for pranks, the instant darkness powder for example. What a shame one half had died in the war. Now if only the useless one had been killed, Potter and Granger could have gotten on with their lives without being held back. He actually thought Potter might have wised up to this fact because he'd been seeing less and less of Blaise these days. Blaise also had picked up an annoying habit of mentioning Potter whenever they talked about work at the Ministry, and not even by his last name! Though Draco thought this part may have been just to rile him up.

Draco had actually considered joining the Auror force after the war. What better way to prove he had changed than by rounding up the last Death Eaters, he had thought. But his Father had talked him out of his silly ideals. Apparently the Malfoy's still had enough clout without lowering themselves to plebeian levels. Naturally his Father had also reminded him of the dangers of the Auror force and about how he had an image to uphold. Draco didn't see how using the skills he'd learnt as a Death Eater to make England safer was such a bad idea but he had learnt at a young age not to disagree with his Father on certain things.

At least he could work from the Manor for the most part. A paper job wasn't so bad. He could also go on safe business trips unlike the rather unpredictable, hazardous ones Blaise went on. Draco sighed as he contemplated how boring his life had become. Did he really want to go back to when he had feared for his life and his Mother's and was willing to murder? The sad answer was yes. He enjoyed making money by being smarter than all his competitors but the last time he'd even been on a broom was 8 months ago when Blaise had invited him to a Weasley Quidditch match at the rebuilt Burrow. It had failed spectacularly with Weasley ending up with a broken nose, which Draco had suspicions was from Potter, and himself ending up with three broken ribs and a black eye. Draco had to admit an enraged George almost made up for his twin as an only Beater. The sad thing was that one of the first business deals Draco had made was to purchase the Quidditch shops in Diagon Alley and sort of fuse them together into one magically continuous shop with five shop fronts. It had been a good investment, and a rather fun one as he had the privilege to prototypes like the Firebolt's successor the Thunderbolt and the latest Nimbus, whose inventor Draco had managed to convince to call it the Nimbus Phoenix, (whoever came up with the whole 2000 series thing was an idiot in Draco's mind.)

Draco had at one point gotten so fed up with the repetitive nature of his job that he had taken three months off in a way and gone around the world to all his companies and had them teach him their tricks of the trade so to speak. He had learnt the basics of broom design, how to read the Muggle stock market himself, how to operate the Internet and a Mobile Phone, how to deal with Goblins, how to train a dragon, elf magic, the politics of business with Muggles, how to make all the current potions his Potions Masters had invented... the list went on. Draco had been particularly fond of a company he had share in called Apple. Just their logo reminded him of more exciting times when he had been living under fear of death in Sixth year.

He would be going in to the Ministry today. Such fun, if only he muster the enthusiasm to get out of bed. At least Astoria had insisted on her own wing when she had moved into the Manor; yet another reason not to bring a child into his life. Draco sat up, completely forgetting about the woman draped across him, whom he was in fact still currently inside. The movement sent spasms of pleasure through his body but he was not in the mood, so in one swift motion he twisted the girl over and pulled out. She woke up abruptly and moaned but stopped when she realised that Draco had already vacated to the washroom for a shower. Contemplating whether to join him (this was her first time with the infamous Draco Malfoy) the girl wrapped herself in an emerald sheet and went to the wardrobe to straighten out her appearance. Little did she know that Draco hardly ever invited someone over twice, let alone to join him in his shower. Before the girl could even apply the first of her hair charms Draco was back, clad only in a towel slung low around his waist. Glistening as he was the girl wanted to jump him right there, but Draco taking in her current position snorted. "Don't bother," was all he said before progressing to swiftly dress unashamedly, and then leave tossing over his shoulder "Lilith will see to your needs." At the sound of her name the house elf popped into the room and Draco let thoughts of his last conquest slip from his mind, as he made his way to the kitchen to make himself breakfast. (Who would have thought Draco Malfoy would enjoy cooking?) Ever since he'd learnt how to cook in Italy at Blaise and his favourite restaurant, (which he now owned) the house elves had to settle for cooking for his 'guests'.

...