This is a completely different turn for me. I'm starting out a story with some original characters, but we're going to shift to completely new, original ones. Had another dream - make another story. Ah, well.

Hope that you enjoy, and remember - I own nothing that has to do with the concept of Harry Potter. Thanks to J.K. Rowling for giving us the opportunity to play in that tiny little sandbox of hers.

The original characters come from my dreams, and as such, are the only part of the ensuing fiasco that I would hope no one would try to steal or borrow from without permission.

Toodles!

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He came to me one night, as I slumbered. To me, it was all a dream – vivid, crisp and clear. When morning came, I had the murky fuzziness that accompanies all good sleep.

I stretched and thought nothing more of it, moving to pick up my robe and towel, heading for the shower. As I wiped the steam off the mirror, I smiled, ready to begin a new day as Potions Mistress of the reopened Hogwarts. McGonagall (I still can't bring myself to call her Minerva, as Harry often did) offered me the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at the end of the war. In turn, St. Mungo's wanted me as a Healer in training. But my love of learning won out over my talent for healing, and at the last second, the Headmistress was unable to find anyone to fill the Potions position. So, with a smile that first day back, I joined Neville Longbottom – the new Herbeology professor – as one of five students who had returned to educate a new generation. We were joined by Oliver Wood – Quidditch Master, Susan Bones – Transfiguration, and, of all people, Draco Malfoy – who took up the cursed position of the DADA professor. I shook his hand reluctantly and wished him luck, for as a student he had always had excellent marks. There were his qualities as a person I was more concerned with.

Four months later, and my life began to change drastically. Here I was, a respected instructor at one of the finest magical institutions the world had to offer. And I was pregnant. Oh yeah.

Now I know what it is that you're thinking. 'How could she not know for almost three and a half months that she had a bun in the oven? Wouldn't she notice something was missing?'

Well, normally, yes. But in my unfortunate case, or fortunate as I looked upon it at the time…since the beginning of the War, the stress I was under as being one-third of the 'Golden Trio' made a cessation of my cycles then occur. I got one maybe every six months, if even that, over a period of four years. So given that simple set of circumstances…no, it wasn't difficult to understand. The roundness of my growing belly and the swift kick that newfound child gave to my bladder one morning during class were all I needed to convince my stubborn self to get to the nearest Mediwitch as soon as possible.

Pregnancy – confirmed. Two problems: One – I was single, and I had been since Ronald died two months shy of the end of the damned war. Two – I had absolutely no clue who the father was.

Oh, I figured out pretty quickly that the dream I'd had hadn't really been a dream at all. I'm not that stupid. It had been a seduction. But by whom, and for what purpose? I had absolutely no idea. All of the Deatheaters had been rounded up after Voldemort's demise and stripped of their powers. The Ministry had no desire to take any chances this time around by letting anyone be convinced of their innocence under duress. No one knew of anyone trying to rise to power at this time. Did I have an unknown suitor; one that was too afraid to show his face, and therefore came to me in dreams?

So it brings me to the day, when I was about six months along, which the stress of a myriad of questions attacking my mind found me unable to continue teaching a class. I sent the first years who were my students that period upon their way, quite early on, in fact. I tried making it back to my quarters, but my ever-buzzing brain combined with those lovely pregnancy hormones caused me to stop where I was, lean against the cold stone wall of an alcove and begin to cry. And I sobbed. And I heaved. I'm sure that after not too long, I looked to be a dreadful mess. But a hand reached out a handkerchief to me, which I gladly took to mop up my swollen face. Then I looked up, and saw the most unlikely of rescuers at my feet.

"Draco Malfoy."

He knelt down before me, as I had apparently slid down to the floor by then, and frankly, hadn't figured out yet how to hoist my cumbersome form back up without looking like a total idiot. Then he did the most surprising of things. He leaned over and kissed me, right on my forehead. It was a tender, gentle kiss like a father gives to a wayward child when they're lost in life.

I know that I looked like some goldfish, sitting there with my mouth open and my eyes wide. When Malfoy smiled, I shut my trap with a snap of my jaw, accepting the outstretched hand to pull me up.

"Come on Granger. Let's go have a cup of tea."

And I spilled the beans in front of that fire in the dungeon that day. Oh yeah. Every bloody thing that was happening to me; every bloody thing that had been bothering me in the teeniest little bit – I let it pour out of me like a floodgate that someone had forgotten to shut. And Malfoy listened…. Patiently, like he actually cared what had been going on with me and mine. Then he did something that floored me completely. He got down on his knees before me, took my small hands in his large, pale and delicate ones, and looked pleadingly into my eyes.

"Hermione Granger, would you do me the honor of marrying me."

Again, I'm sure I looked like a fish floundering for air.

But the amazing thing is, he convinced me. Maybe it was the shock of the whole thing – the hopelessness of my situation. But after listening to his campaign speech of sorts, I nodded yes; quietly and with a little shy smile. There would be no pressure. He loved me, always had, he said. There had just never been a chance while a war was on, and he knew that I trusted him far less than I could throw him.

"I promise to love you forever, and I hope that one day you will love me, too."

Draco kept that promise. December of that year, we were married there in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Everyone assumed that my large, round form was a result of a union between him and me. But truth be told, Draco had not even asked me for one form of sexual favor; not one. And I learned to trust him, over time.

My daughter was born on March 15th the following year. The Ides of March. She was a gorgeous creature, who had pale, delicate features that would surely allow her to pass as a Malfoy. Her hair came thick and dark, like a raven's. She had my small mouth, and I could only hope that her eyes would be closer to mine after time.

"What should we name her?"

I smiled, holding onto her tightly as she gripped some of my long waves in her tiny fingers. Knowing Draco, he wanted to give her some fanciful name from one of the Malfoy's history books…but he graciously kept his ideas to himself, and let me give my daughter something more…normal.

"Candace. Candace Alicia Malfoy. Good enough?"

"Good enough."

Together we watched my daughter grow and thrive like nothing I'd ever seen. She had excellent balance, and would constantly beat other children her age in a Quidditch match. In fact, sometimes she even managed to outrace her 'Daddy' on a broom. It was during the first full moon after her 6th birthday that I began to worry again about her heritage. She began seizing then. Every night of a full moon, she would thrash about horribly. No Muggle medicine seemed to help her, so I went to work, studying furiously about all ailments that could possibly be afflicting her so.

Everything she had pointed back to one thing. My poor daughter was a half-breed. That had been no ordinary man who had visited me that night, so long ago. He had been a werewolf, in human form. And so these seizures she was having, they were her body's way of fighting to change, or not to change.

I poured through books and books about werewolves. I consulted some of the exiled werewolf community to get their viewpoint on my troubling situation. And it all came down to one thing. Candace would be cursed to have these seizures, time and time again, until she one day met her mate. Then she would either change, and become a full fledged werewolf, or she would stay a half breed. But only mating with one of their kind would allow the seizures to stop.

And I resigned myself to keeping her safe. Draco and I did everything in our power to make her attacks easier. Together we made a potion that completely knocked her out during the nights of the full moon. The next day, she was a little groggy, but otherwise unharmed. And she grew tall and beautiful, I am assuming just like her father, because she quickly surpassed my five foot eight inch stature at the age of sixteen. At seventeen, she graduated Valedictorian of her class at Hogwarts – who would have been surprised when you looked at who her parents were – and Draco and I watched lovingly as she crossed the stage.

The day came when we had to say goodbye. As an adult in the magical world, Candace had to make her own decision about whether she would continue on and become and auror or a healer, or maybe a curse breaker at Gringott's. She managed to surprise us all the day she came into the kitchen at our modest home and told us she was going to America.

"Mother, Father, I've been accepted."

Draco almost choked on his toast as I reached over and patted him on the back.

"Accepted to where, dear?"

"Oh Mother, I've been accepted to some small town college in a rural area of the Southern states, in America."

I remember feeling my right eyebrow cock upward and a smile forming on my lips. I turned and looked at my husband, whom I had grown to love dearly, as he slowly sipped his tea before responding with a stern look on his face – but I could see the twinkle forming in his eyes.

"Congratulations Candace. Your mother and I are very proud of you. Now, what is the name of this mysterious school that you've obviously applied to without our knowledge?"

Candace sat down at the table, her amber-colored eyes bright and hands trembling a bit as she passed the brochure over to a now grim-looking Draco. I punched him playfully in the arm as I pulled the pamphlet out of his fingers.

"Oh, Draco, cut it out. You're going to give her such a fright. Let me see, ah, here it is: Clemson University. It's an Agricultural school? Pray tell, dear, what is it that you're going to study there?"

"Engineering. Now, what kind of engineering, I'm not completely sure right this second. Or maybe I'll switch to nursing. You know that would help if I ever wanted to be a healer, mom. I could have a great background in Muggle Nursing before I began to study as a healer."

"So which is it, Candace…nurse or engineer?"

I smiled at Draco's question, remembering how Candace changed her mind almost every second of every day. She had a boundless energy that made her flit from one point to the next. How she ever managed to stay focused on her studies, frankly, was beyond me.

"I think I'll be a nurse, Daddy. Wouldn't that be nice?"

And as they dreamily discussed all the possibilities the school and its studies had to offer, I quietly thanked my lucky stars that she'd chosen a place as far away from the magical community as possible.

But this is where my part of the story ends. This is all about a new beginning of sorts. This is not my story, but my daughter's. And what and interesting tale it became….