Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Fate/stay night belongs to Kinoko Nasu and TYPE-MOON. Don't complain.
She was running through the halls of an old building, using Alohomora to bypass the mundane security. Her surroundings were completely unfamiliar, but through the windows she caught glimpses of the Paris skyline.
She ignored the beautiful view. There was an innocent life in danger because of her, one she was determined to save. Rounding a corner, she came to a moonlit hallway. A tall man in red stood watch over the crumpled form of a boy her age, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. As she got closer she found herself slipping in the blood, the slick sensation of it beneath her feet and the coppery scent in the air both making her stomach roil. The man was distinctive with his dusky skin and white hair, she called to him.
"Archer!"
Solemnly, he turned to her.
"Master…we were too late. I'm afraid there is nothing we can do for him now. We should leave before anyone finds us."
At his words, her sorrow over having failed the boy before her was overcome by a white-hot anger. A refusal to accept this tragedy.
"No! I won't allow an innocent to die simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time! If you want to give up, then go make yourself useful and keep watch for Lancer!"
The man, Archer, glowered at her rebuke.
"As you wish, Master." He bit out.
Before her eyes, the man seemed to shimmer and disappear like a ghost. She turned to kneel over the boy. Tentatively, she shook his shoulder and begged him to wake up. When he refused to move, she pulled him over to position him on his back. When she saw his face, however, the ground seemed to collapse beneath her. Her breath came quick and unsteady, and all she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears.
"No…"
The boy was not a stranger after all. Laying before her with a stab wound through his heart was Draco Malfoy, a boy who had mocked and belittled her for the past four years. In death his skin was even paler than normal, his lifesblood currently soaking through her skirt. His face, usually twisted in a hateful sneer, was almost fey-like in the moonlight. Were it not for the sightless grey eyes looking out at her, she would have simply thought him asleep.
Those constant and very real reminders of his death, of her failure, made her want to be sick all over her shoes. For a moment, she contemplated simply leaving him here. A punishment for all the cruel words he had said to her.
Almost as soon as the impulse came it left, leaving a deep shame behind. How could she even think that? To leave a boy she knew, her classmate, to die because of her? Because he had been mean to her?
Against her will, the memory of his warning during the World Cup came to mind. He had tried to save her life, hadn't he? Even though he claimed to despise her for the very blood that ran through her veins?
She bit her lip as tears ran down her face, the pain the only thing keeping her from weeping openly for the senseless death before her. Gripping the gem hanging from her neck, she found her resolve.
"This gem was a gift, a gift given to me so that I could use it to save the people important to me. Though now that I think about it, Sirius probably intended me to use it on Harry. I doubt he'll be happy I used it to save you instead, so you better lay off Harry from now on as payment for this. You hear me, Malfoy?"
He didn't respond, not that she expected him too. Knowing that she only had a short time before he was beyond her help, she set to work. With a pulse of Will, the vast amount of prana held within the stone flooded into her. It was almost too much to bare, and she could feel it cooking her from within.
Taking a deep breath, she went to work.
"Vulnera Sanentur…"
"No!"
With a fearful cry, Hermione Granger threw herself into wakefulness. Panting heavily, she sat up in bed and shook. That dream had felt real, too real.
"Hermione?"
Startled, she looked up to see Fay Dunbar standing over her in concern. Parvati and Lavender watched from their own beds as well.
"I-I'm sorry. I just had...a very bad dream."
The other girls did not look entirely convinced, but they left her to herself. Hermione was grateful, as she needed time to process what she had just witnessed.
'Did I have that dream because of the Alters? But what did it mean? That man, Archer, he looked familiar but I could swear I've never met him in my life!'
Frustrated at how little she understood, Hermione threw off her covers and began to prepare for her day. She was a Prefect this year, and that meant she had far too little time to be caught up in dreams.
Still…
Hermione frowned. 'I'll have to speak to the other me soon. Even if Harry was wrong about there being a plot, I have questions only she can answer.'
Determined to corner her double between classes, Hermione went off to breakfast.
The Slytherins continued to awkwardly avoid Draco, something he appreciated. While normally he would be up in arms over their behavior, this morning he was a moment away from falling asleep in his porridge. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning due to constant nightmares and had deep bags under his eyes. He could not remember most of what he dreamt beyond the fleeting images of blood, violence, and swords.
Dear God there had been so many swords...
However, one part remained clear in his mind.
"I ask of you, are you my Master?"
His housemates were startled when he dropped his forehead onto the table with a groan, but Draco paid them little mind. The image of that woman was burned into his brain, being easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen despite (or even because of) the armor she wore.
As the hall fell silent, he looked up to see the other him walking over to the Hufflepuff table. At first he thought everyone was simply gawking at the image of himself with a pleasant smile on his face, before he realized they were actually staring at the person he was laughing jovially with.
Finch-Fletchly. A mudblood.
Snarling, Draco vowed to lay down the law with Draco Alter before the day was through. He had an image to maintain, dammit!
"Mornin' Mione," Ron said while plopping down next to her in the great hall. A sullen Harry followed after him. Tearing her gaze away from where the other her was sitting next to a beaming Luna, Hermione looked at her friends. Frowning, she focused on Harry.
"What's wrong? Did something happen?"
Harry grimaced and remained silent, but Ron snorted rudely into his eggs and answered for his friend. "Everybody's been either avoiding us, or calling Harry barmy like that toerag Seamus! Honestly, those Alters only helped if you ask me. At least half the school has been gossiping about them instead of the Prophet!"
Harry grunted in agreement before cautiously scanning the Great Hall for the doubles. "I still don't like it. Seamus can call me crazy all he likes, but if I've learned one thing at this school it's that when something big like this happen at the start of the year, it's always connected to a plot."
Sighing, Hermione turned to lecture him. "Harry, not everything is part of some plot!"
Harry smacked his palm on the table, causing a nearby first-year to jump in fright. "There is always a plot! Every bloody year! It's just hard to see them sometimes because they're so unrealistically convoluted! Like that bloody tournament!"
"Yeah," Ron laughed ruefully, "that was so stupid it wasn't even funny! Why not just chuck a portkey at Harry while everyone was focused on the tasks? They needed him alive to resurrect You-Know-Who, so what was the point of putting Harry in danger and getting everybody's attention on him!? Plots like that, it's no wonder nobody realized what was happening until it was over! I bet they didn't even know what was going on! The only way a plot could be more ridiculous and buggered would be if it hinged on Time Travel!"
As one, Harry and Hermione coughed awkwardly and looked away from their friend. Ron blinked.
"What?"
(Far away, at the Root of The World, Archer sneezed.)
The first class Hermione had with her Alter was Ancient Runes. As it was an elective, it contained students from all four houses.
This, unfortunately, included Draco Alter.
Oh, he was perfectly polite (strangely so, to the point where Hermione could hardly believe he was the same person as the Malfoy she knew), but he also stuck by Hermione Alter's side from the moment she walked into the room.
Hermione wasn't ready to confront both of them at once, especially when they insisted on giving each other furtive glances and coy grins every few seconds, whispering jokes and secrets into each other's ears.
It was strangely intimate, and more than a little uncomfortable for her to watch. Something even Malfoy must have agreed with considering the increasingly horrified way he stared at them as class went on.
When class ended, she shoved her things into her bag and rushed to catch up with her Alter. Not looking where she was going, it came as a complete surprise when she slammed into a well-muscled back and fell.
Or at least, she would have fallen had she not been caught by whoever she had just walked into.
Turning to thank him and apologize, Hermione found her breath catching in her throat at the sight if Draco Alter. The blond was smirking good naturedly, and she felt her cheeks flush despite herself.
"You alright?"
She swallowed thickly. "I-yes, yes I'm fine. I was just in a hurry and didn't watch where I was going and I'm terribly sorry-"
She was cut off by the sound of Draco Alter laughing softly. Hermione glared at him, pouting slightly.
"Ah, no. I'm sorry, you just sounded like my Hermione when she gets going…"
Huffing in exasperation (and blushing even more), she moved to leave only to realize the blond was following her.
"Do you need something?" she asked testily.
"Hm? No, I'm just heading to class. Double Defense with Gryffindor. I guess we're both going the same way!"
'Ugh.'
Neither noticed the other Draco struggling to decide if he should follow or not.
The other Hermione was cute, he decided. His Hermione had become much more mature, pragmatic, and, well, devious over the course of their relationship. There wasn't anything wrong with that (in fact, it was a huge turn on for him), but this more innocent and naive Hermione was nice in her own way. Really fun to tease, too.
Umbridge, on the other hand, was a disappointment.
He had actually been looking forward to DADA this year because, supposedly, the Dumbledore in his world had managed to convince Lord El-Melloi ll himself to teach at Hogwarts for a year. Draco had no idea how the Headmaster had done it, but he had been almost giddy about the chance to speak with another survivor of the Holy Grail War.
Except now he had to deal with a barely competent ministry stooge who was clearly far more interested in taking the piss out of Dumbledore and baiting Potter than actually teaching.
In fact…
"Um, excuse me?" Draco choked out incredulously, taking the wind out of whatever idiotic argument Potter was about to start. Umbridge turned to him, eyes alight with fury, and grimaced when she realized who had just spoken.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco felt the other Hermione's (and Potter's) gaze burning a hole in the back of his head, but ignored it.
"You work for the Ministry of Magic, correct?"
Umbridge seemed taken aback, but puffed herself up in pride.
She looked startlingly like bullfrog.
"I am the Undersecretary to the Minister himself!" she bragged.
Draco nodded in understanding. "That's a lofty position, Professor. Can we assume, then, that your curriculum is based on the Ministry's official position?"
"Of course!"
"So, what you're saying is that the Ministry's official position is that all of the very dangerous Dark Creatures the Ministry itself regulates would never attack us...because we're students?"
Umbridge and Potter both seemed surprised by Draco's incredulous statement, while almost everyone else was either sniggering under their breath or whispering to each other. Hermione, on the other hand, was staring at him curiously, as if he was a puzzle she was trying to solve.
It was kind of adorable.
Umbridge flushed an ugly color in her anger. "The Ministry's position is that you should never have to defend yourselves. Our Aurors are some of the best trained law enforcement professionals in the world and are more than capable of protecting you all!"
Draco stared at her disbelievingly. "Professor, there are nowhere near enough Aurors to protect everybody, there haven't even been any new applicants in the past three years. Not to mention the fact that we all have our own wands and are perfectly capable of protecting ourselves. At the very least, wouldn't we be safer if we could at least survive until help arrived? Criminals, werewolves, and Dead Apostles aren't exactly going to wait around for the Aurors!"
Umbridge reeled back in shock and looked as if she were about to scream at him in outrage before stopping short. "Dead what?"
Draco blinked. Then he paled. "You-you don't even know about Dead Apostles!? How the bloody hell are you qualified to teach!?"
Instead of the outrage he expected, Draco found everyone looking at him as if he had a few screws loose.
"What?"
"Er, mate?" Justin hedged, "What the hell are you on about? I've never heard of a 'Dead Apostle'."
Almost as one, everyone else began nodding in agreement with Justin, while Hermione looked deep in thought.
It took Draco a second to connect the dots.
"You don't-? There are no Dead Apostles in this world?"
Justin shrugged and looked around to see if anyone would correct him. They didn't. "Not that we know of. What are they, some kind of terrorist group?"
Draco swallowed thickly. "No. They're alien super vampires. You guys are really lucky you don't have any, they make Earth vampires look like bitches. In fact, the stronger ones are all at least as powerful as Dark Lords."
They all blinked. At the same time.
"Wait, what!?"
Draco shook his head. "That's not important. The fact remains that there are far more threats to our safety than Aurors to defend us, and that's even assuming Aurors would help us in the first place. In case you haven't noticed, we live in the England. What do you expect us to do if the Irish Republican Army starts blowing up buildings while we're in London? I doubt Aurors would respond to Mundane terrorist attacks at all. Not teaching us how to defend ourselves is just irresponsible and dangerous!"
Umbridge looked as if she wasn't sure if she should explode in fury or faint.
So she did both.
"Hurk!" She gasped, grabbing her chest.
"Oh my God!"
"Someone call a Professor!"
"Or we could, y'know, not."
Draco stared.
'...huh.'
The Great Hall was in a bit of a buzz come dinner time.
Apparently, that happens when Professors have heart attacks from a student's backtalk.
Umbridge would be fine, as silly things like cardiac arrest were little trouble for magical medicine, and was expected to be on her feet again by the next day.
On a side note, neither Draco Alter nor Harry received detention. Harry because he had not been able to push Umbridge far enough, and Draco because she was still unsure how Lucius Malfoy would react.
Professor Flitwick was not having a good day.
"Kyaaa!"
"Kill it! Kill it with fire!"
First, he had to organize supplies and class schedules for the two Alters. Then he not only had to deal with Dolores Umbridge's disgusted glances, but then she had a heart attack in class of all things! Now, after a day full of inconveniences and annoyances, he found his own Common Room in utter bedlam!
"What in Rowena's name is the meaning of this?!" he screamed in outrage.
His students parted like the Red Sea for him, revealing a group of disheveled girls in a pile on the floor. Before he could question how they had ended up like that, a new girl was thrown bodily from the direction of the female dorms. He whipped around to confront her attacker only to see something that made his jaw drop.
A menacing crimson and silver suite of armor, covered in sharp edges. Its helm bedecked with large, demonic horns. The tabard hanging between its legs was embroidered with an ornate M, and only the echoing sound it made with each step revealed its hollow nature. So fluid were its movements that Flitwick was instantly certain that only his most prodigious students could have enchanted it.
Naturally, that was when the young Hermione Alter entered the room from behind him.
"I apologize, Professor. That's mine."
Stunned, Flitwick turned to question his newest student.
"Ms. Granger! Why is your golem attacking my students!?"
She frowned slightly, and out of the corner of his eye Flitwick caught sight of a poleaxed Luna Lovegood.
"Professor, I only told it to guard our belongings. The real question is, what were they doing in my and Luna's room?"
Ah, that explained things then.
Flitwick turned to glare balefully at the now nervous pile of girls.
"Indeed. That is an interesting question, isn't it? All of you, in my office!"
"Professor-," they began to plead.
"Now!"
With a collective yelp, the girls rushed to obey their irate head of house. Flitwick stroked his beard roughly in irritation before addressing Hermione again. "As long as your golem does not hurt any students, feel free to keep it active. Ten points to Ravenclaw for a prodigious use of Charms. Now, if you'll excuse me I believe I need to get to the bottom of this!"
Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Professor. Come along Luna!"
Saying this, she began walking to their dorm. After a moment of stunned silence, Luna rushed after her. Sniffing softly as her eyes began to water.
Nobody met their eyes.
Later that night, as most of the castle slept, Draco Alter sat up in bed and grabbed his wand. With a whisper, a sudden gust of wind swept through the room. When it ended, he had disappeared.
Or at least, that's what it looked like.
Hidden by Invisible Air, Draco crept out of the Hufflepuff dorms and up the Ravenclaw Tower. Answering a painfully easy riddle, he infiltrated the Ravenclaw Common Room and tiptoed towards the girls' dorms. Stopping at the foot of the male-proof stairs, he knocked on the wall in a predetermined signal.
After a moment, Hermione Alter joined him. Reaching out blindly, she smiled when his hand gently grasped hers. He pulled her close and embraced her, willing the magical veil to extend over her as well. Safe in the knowledge that the wind would hide their voices as well as their bodies, they kissed passionately.
"We need to stop meeting like this," he said with a flirtatious smirk. Hermione grinned in turn and slid her hands into his pants.
"Oh? Does that mean you want to stop?"
He grimaced. "Don't tease me, woman."
"Funny, I thought you liked when I did that."
He snorted out a short laugh, only for it to turn into a hiss of pleasure as she found her mark. Leaning close, she nibbled lightly on his earlobe.
"Enough talk, I'm starting to run low on prana."
He grinned cockily. "I knew you only wanted me for my body. Where should we go? I think there are some empty rooms on the third floor."
Her smile became truly devious as lust clouded her eyes. "No time. Try not to scream too loudly."
He blinked. "What?"
Then she undid his belt, and talking became the last thing on his mind.
Over in Gryffindor Tower, Harry looked at the Marauder's Map in confusion.
"Hang on, the other Draco is in the Ravenclaw Common Room with the other Hermione. What are they doing?"
Leaning over curiously, Hermione and Ron stared at the position the Alters' feet were taking on the map.
"Is something wrong with this thing? They would have to be on top of each other for that to make sense!" Ron said in confusion.
Hermione flushed.
"Oh. Oh nononono…"
"Draco! Oh, yes!"
A.N. Some people have complained about Draco Malfoy being a main character. Considering how Cannon Draco was redeemed by Cursed Child, and how Shirou wasn't exactly perfect before the events of Fate (I.E. Subtle misogyny, kind of a moron), anyone who dislikes this story simply on the basis of who the characters are needs to grow up.
Rest assured, however, that there will be no Leather Pants here. Draco Malfoy is a spoiled bigot and a bully, that is true, but he also has a good heart deep down. While I doubt he was abused at home, the way he was raised messed him up and by the end of the main story he was at least trying to overcome his upbringing. I personally find redemption stories both a challenge to write and more interesting than stories about protagonists like Harry Potter. Give it a chance, and don't complain.