Disclaimer: I do not own HP.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi guys! To those who haven't read my notes in the preface, I'm repeating this again. Some of you might have read the same story in another account posted by one Anastasia Juliet. Rest assured this is NOT plagiarized. She is me and I am her. Just that I made a silly mistake of forgetting my password and so I can't log in to that account, which leads me to repost this one right here so that I can continue writing it and you can continue reading.

With that said, happy reading!

CHAPTER ONE

A Mother, a Son and her Dying Wish

It is just normal that a woman of age forty nine confined in a hospital room would think about how to make the remaining days of her life worth the while. Narcissa Malfoy learned that after living long enough, aspiring nothing but the best life conditions for her husband and son, it isn't even up to her to decide who gets to live and who to die. All the grand planning and hard work to come out triumphant in life, useless when it comes to what fate has written.

In the end, she was alone in the confines of her room, with nothing to do but wait for her son to finish work so that he can visit her. Whatever happened to the wedding vows of living in sickness and in health, till death do you part? Sadly, not even that can stop the dementors from punishing her husband for his crimes.

Now, she only has Draco, and the forgiveness of the boy's enemy Harry Potter that pardoned and allowed them to keep a portion of their Malfoy wealth. As a prejudiced pure blood she was ashamed, but as a mother she was grateful.

Sure it was degrading. She was after all saved by the boy her family wanted dead. It was like a very hard slap in the face and for a year after Lucius was sentenced the dementor's kiss, she thought it wise to keep her family out of public's eye. She took Draco in a long vacation in Switzerland where it was quiet. They laid low and paid their way to avoid gossipers and paparazzi. But life has to go on she soon realized, if not for her, then for her son. It was admittedly difficult to compose herself after all they've been through but she managed, and she let those experiences teach her a valuable lesson not taught in wizarding schools. That life has a way of bringing you to your knees, only to teach you how to stand again.

She can only hope it would go easy for her son. St. Mungos may not be a place she was accustomed to live in, but at least in here she was safe. Draco on the other hand has to live outside, everyday facing the judgment for having sided with Voldemort. The world has changed indeed. Forgiven or not by Harry Potter, not everyone is happy to see them alive and walking freely. Now it was them who are subjects of the world's prejudice and hate.

As his mother, there's nothing more she wishes than for her only child to be happy.

Knock, knock.

The door called. Narcissa checked the clock on the wall across her bed. She smiled, allowing all negativity to slide down because the best part of her day has finally come. She spoke a delighted soft 'Come in.' and in stepped Draco in his work uniform. He had accepted a job as consultant in a muggle business company and is now living in an apartment in Muggle London. He thought it'd be nice to keep away from the prying eyes of the wizarding world, away from their loathing and mockery, and she agreed. Anything to keep their peace.

"Mother." He greeted politely, kissing her on the cheek.

"Draco, son. How are you this fine day?" She asked lovingly. He acciod a chair and positioned it by her bed for him to sit.

"I'm good mother. And you? Are you feeling any better? Are the healers treating you well?" He asked, taking her frail wrinkly hands and wrapping them around his big smooth hands.

"They treat me well son. You have nothing to worry about, I assure you." She said, squeezing his hands and offering him a kind smile that says everything is alright.

"Draco I am not getting any younger."

His son's reaction was immediate and as she expected. A grimace found his beautiful face, and he tried to pull his hands back. She didn't allow it and held on tighter to him.

With an exasperrated sigh, her son began a speech in hopes of reasoning with her she knew. It was a speech she long memorized from past conversations.

"Mother, we've talked about this. If this is about women then-" He paused, letting her interrupt him with a shake of her head.

"This isn't about women son. This is about you. I am not as healthy as I used to be. I need to speak with you while I am able."

She was calm, composed, warm and everything motherly. If possible, his son looked even more buffled. This caused her a knowing smile. She has raised him and knows him better than anyone else. She was prepared for his stubbornness to listen when he doesn't like what he's being told.

"Mother you are not dying!" He cried. "You will heal. I will make sure they do their job right and heal you. And then I can take you home and we're gonna be together again. We're gonna survive this. We are family."

"Draco, whether I'm here or not, we will always be family. You are always and forever my son. Nothing, not even my death, is going to change that."

He frowned, this time successfully pulling away from her. He stood up, and spoke stoicly, in a cold authoritative voice. It would have given her the desired effect, if she wasn't used to it, if she couldn't see his eyes that were screaming in pain and his shoulders that trembled in fear.

"I didn't come here to hear you speak of death mother. I'm sorry I can't listen to this. I am not allowing you to die. I won't let you leave me."

Narcissa stared at him with love and understanding. She was pulling herself together not to cry. She knows conversations like this are nothing but heartbreaking, but she strongly believe it must be done. For who knows what little time she has left?

"Son, listen to me." She pleaded earnestly, urging him to stay. She watched him gulp and fight off tears. Seeing him look so sad, she wanted nothing more than to dry his tears. She was about to stand to do just that, but he hurriedly came to her side telling her to stop with deep worry in his eyes.

Having him close, she gave him a warm hug and patiently rubbed his back as he cried. This is her son, no longer a boy, but a man. Fate forced him to grow up earlier than others, but it pleases her that he'd come out strong. Her heart breaks to think that she'd really just rather he'd come out happy.

When he's calmed down and relaxed, he allowed her to pull him away so that she can talk to him. Hopeful grey eyes met his hesitant greys. He looks so much like his father, yet so very different. She'd be damned if she let her son end up like her husband.

Feeling determined, she began talking.

"Son, this is the part where I tell you I know what's best for you, but I'm afraid that even I cannot say what choices you must make in this life. In this world, one thing leads to another. The mistakes that causes us great pain may just be the key that gives us great happiness. Time changes people. It opens doors and windows to new beginnings. However the challenges never stop, and I can only wish for you to be stable and find an anchor so strong that no matter you face, you come out a man changed for the better, a man who can find happiness at every point in life."

She caressed his cheeks stained with tears, and using her other hand she opened the drawer beside her bed and took out an elegant but ancient looking silver jewelry box. She watched his eyes dawn with recognition. It was her mother's favorite, passed down from her grandmother, and Draco had seen it as a child when he was playing in their room. But he had never once seen what's inside.

She murmured an incantation and the box glowed with blue light, opening to reveal an even older looking item that made him gasp.

"Mother, is that a time turner?!"

"It is what it is Draco. Now this is an heirloom that used to be in the possession of your grandmother. She passed it down to me before she died, and now I give it to you, along with her words. Time is a gift son, but it is not to be meddled with carelessly. You can try to change things, but in the end what is meant to happen will happen, one way or another. You can delay it, but death will come to all at some point, and you have to learn to accept it. Like your grandmother, and your great grand mother before her, I too have tried to meddle with time and proven this saying to be true. You know the muggles believe that there's a higher being who writes all these stories, who writes a man's fate. The muggles call him 'God.' I think I believe them at this point."

"Mother, if I may ask, what is it you tried to change?"

"I-" she paused rather dramatically. It was always the memories that catches her throat. "I've wanted your father to see reason. I have hoped he would choose a different path. I thought that his love for me and you would be enough to persuade him to turn back from his beliefs. But a man's heart is his own son, wizard or not. Only he can choose a path for himself. I threatened to leave him if he wouldn't change. I was carrying you in my womb, so I thought our love would be enough. He chose us. For a while we were happy. I gave birth to you and everything was giddy, but then years passed and as you know he reverted back to his old self. And I cannot change his mind. It was then that I realized, perhaps everything was meant to be."

She stopped, letting her words sink in to him. She wanted him to remember this, that he can return to this wisdom when he needs to.

"Remember son, you can go back to time and change things. But in the end people's hearts are their own. What you can change however is the way you see things. What you can change is yourself."

"If it changes nothing then why would I bother to use it?" He asked, every word stressing confusion.

"Because it could help you." She replied with confidence. "It can change you into someone capable of more. It is why I decided that if I cannot change things for Lucius, then I shall make things right for you. Know that if you cannot decide which time to return to, then maybe you should allow it to choose for you."

"How?" He asked again.

She smiled, eyes knowing and filled with mirth. It was because she was his mother that he recognized that look and she knew he was deciding whether to fear or humor the information she's about to give him. She decided she'd just stop his internal debate.

"Just hold it tightly, close your eyes and allow yourself to feel. It can lead you to what you need to see. Though I should warn you Draco, you might be surprised to what fate thinks you shall change."

×°~•~°×

Stepping out of St. Mungo's, Draco found himself a safe corner to think for a moment. There are so many things he'd like to change. For one, he could go back to Hogwarts. He could choose to start differently, merlin maybe he can even befriend Potter. He wonders if it was really like his mother said. If it was, does that mean he really was meant to be enemies with them?

He could talk to his father before he was given the kiss. He could tell him everything he'd cried about for months after his death. He could go back and try destroying the horcruxes himself, though begrudgingly in the end he believes it was Potter who was meant to end the dark lord. It just makes sense because he was the last horcrux.

He could try to make his old self see reason, and take himself and his mother somewhere where Lucius and the dark lord can never find them. He could try to not be marked as a deatheater, but then how? But he could try. He could make his old self choose a different path.

He could end up living a different life. But will he really? Can he do that and not fail?

Realizing how indecisive he's becoming, he reckons it may be worth postponing. But he thought of his office, of what he would be returning to at work and he instantly frowned, acknowledging that given the opportunity he'd really just rather do something else, anything worthy, even return to time, than go back to a redundant routine.

He held the time turner tightly, closed his eyes and allowed himself to just be.

It felt like he was being pulled in a hurricane of varying colors and very fast fading sceneries and sounds, his head was threatening to explode. He was falling with great speed to an endless hole of time. But he couldn't stop, and even if he could he doesn't know how and he also doesn't have time to even think it, because soon enough after what felt like eternity of falling, his feet found solid ground.

He blinked, rubbing his forehead out of dizziness. He had to bend his knees and hold the ground to keep himself from fainting. Fortunately, he spotted a restaurant nearby with tables and chairs neatly arranged outside. It was right beside the river, sheltering a line of gondolas. He was about ready to force his feet to walk when he caught sight of a familiar face among the customers.

He froze.

She was sitting alone in a table by the river, sipping coffee, and reading a book. She must have felt him staring because she looked up just in time to see him gaping. He would be embarrassed if he wasn't shocked and dizzy.

Taking his time, he forced the steps, grey eyes not once looking away from her widened browns.

"Granger." He greeted, finally finding his voice when he reached her table, smugness replacing his state of unwell.

"Ferret."

Watch out for the next chapter...

A Conversation Between a Man and a Woman

Author's Note: To everyone who reviewed and added this story to their favorites/alerts/follows, I just want to say, thank you very much! And to those who are just about to, go ahead and do it. No one's stopping you really. I'd really appreciate if you can leave me a review. I love reading them! You're awesome guys! :)