This is the beginning of the sequel to Time And Chance. Please be patient with my updates, as I have a couple of these things going on at once, and I have to give them all fair attention. I won't update quickly with something that I don't think is worthy of being read.

Disclaimer: Never owned anything other than my plot. No one can sue me, 'cause it's all mumbo jumbo, anyway. Anything else is property of JKR, and though I would love to be in her place, alas, I am not.

Take care, and have fun with it, people. ; )

Hermione closed her eyes as she felt the sun come from behind the clouds. She smiled, peeking between her lids at the sight of two fathers and two daughters, playing before her.

Harry had Lily on a swing, pushing her higher and higher into the sky. Thank Merlin her daughter had inherited her father's love of flying. If Hermione had been on that swing, she was sure she would have emptied her stomach in an instant.

On the other side of the park, she could make out Draco, with Diana throwing sand at him from the sandbox, squealing in delight.

Sighing, she took a sip from her water bottle, thinking over the past two years. It had been full of difficult times.

The night of the magical transformations, as the wizarding community had taken to calling it, everywhere in England had begun a panick. Soon reports were coming in from other countries, only to confirm what Hermione had already assumed; that the white light coming through her and her unborn child had changed wizards everywhere.

After about a week's worth of chaos and confusion, the Ministry of Magic had begun coordinating with other institutions to re-train former witches and wizards on how to function in muggle society. It had been a long, hard road. St. Mungo's was overrun by persons suffering nervous breakdowns, who absolutely refused to go to Muggle hospitals, even though they were perfectly equipped to handle them. And more than a handful of prisons had quickly become overfilled with the Dark Lord's former followers. Very few of them seemed to come to terms willingly that they would no longer be allowed to practice magic – trying to do everything short of selling their souls to the devil in order to "get back" at what Hermione had done.

Her family had become stronger. She was still reluctant to marry Draco, who had asked her about a hundred times. Hermione was comfortable in her life. She oversaw the rehabilitation of magical prisoners, her children were healthy, and they both had their fathers and their mother in their lives. All in all, she was pretty much content.

The only question they had left standing was regarding Diana. What effects would the spell have on her? Every once in a while, she was seen doing wandless magic, which everyone else saw as something natural in a magical child who could not yet control her urges. But Hermione saw it as something more. Diana would get a twinkle in her eye, right before she would purposely move something, or transfigure an object. What other magical parents could say that their child could already consciously transfigure something at the age of two?

It bothered her. To Hermione, it was like a puzzle that she could not yet solve, because she had yet to be presented with all the pieces. It ate at her each and every day.

A soft cry brought her out of her thoughts. She saw Draco picking up Diana, who had tripped trying to get out of the sandbox. No matter what he tried to do to console her, there was only one thing that would make the little girl happy.

"Mama…mama…better."

Hermione smiled, rising to meet her daughter as the child was brought to her. Lifting up her leg, and seeing the little scrape on the two year-old's knee, she bent her head down and placed a feather-like kiss upon the alabaster skin.

"There you go, little one. Mama kissed it all better."