Vagary
va·gar·y
/vāɡərē/
noun
an unexpected and inexplicable change in a situation or in someone's behavior
When Harry awoke, the first thing he did- and the only thing he'd ever imagine doing- was scramble over to Hermione to see if she was alright. Not too much time seemed to have passed, luckily enough, as he noticed just a few people, staring at the duo, who'd taken refuge within the cafe from the attack. There was almost no one in the alley itself, but Harry was more worried over Hermione as she rubbed her head and looked at him wearily.
"What happened?" She nearly hissed at him, sounding quite a bit disappointed.
"Dunno," Harry replied pathetically, "I got distracted when my book vanished."
"It vanished?" Hermione replied in horror.
She sat up quickly and grabbed her wand, pulling Harry up as she stood and looked around uncertainly, any disappointment she may have held in the auror completely diminishing.
"Yeah," Harry said all the while, holding her close.
The brunette witch seemed to notice something Harry didn't, however, and with a near unreadable expression, they were apparating no matter how unfit Harry felt it was for them to do so. They were in the halls of Grimmauld, but no quicker did he notice that than how he watched Hermione thrust his hand before her eyes. What was there startled them both, but she had it ripped from his ring-finger before any speech occurred.
"H.P. and D.M., two-thousand and one," Hermione muttered as she read the inside of the ring, "Thank Merlin."
"What are you on about, 'Mione?" A distressed auror wondered aloud, also curious as to when he'd gotten a ring shoved on his finger.
Looking quite the bit annoyed, she put her left hand before his eyes where a silver ring nearly identical to his and an engagement ring encased one of her nimble fingers.
"Oh," Harry clamped his mouth shut, hoping to appease the witch.
Backing away from him, the brightest witch of her age let the boy-who-lived wonder about where exactly they were while she took off her ring and read the inside of hers.
"H.G. and S.S., two-thousand and two."
"We're married," Harry mumbled, "Not to each other, obviously," he added in a stutter.
"Quite." Hermione started to pace, looking about the house in an odd stupor.
It was obvious to them both that something had happened when they were attacked, that something had shifted time in some abuse. Nothing was what it seemed, obviously, but why…
"Your book," The pacing witch answered almost immediately after Harry had wondered the question, reaching his hand out for the ring she was thrusting back at him, "That figure must have transported it back somehow, that's why it vanished."
"You mean that it changed time?" Harry asked, befuddled to say the least, "What do you think is different?"
"I have no idea, Harry, but we are probably going to have to be careful, if it landed in the wrong hands, things could be much more different than we'd like."
"Right," he replied quickly, hearing the sudden absence of a sound they probably should have noticed in the first place; a shower.
Harry's Auror training kicked in almost immediately, pushing Hermione behind him as they both drew their wands, the bathing room door opening with a squeak. The stairs creaked as well, as Hermione whispered to Harry suddenly, "What if it's your wife?" Though she sounded a bit skeptical.
Harry just shook his head, holding his wand tighter.
Though, neither seemed to expect to see the blonde hair that greeted them, nor the face below such wet and scraggly strands.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?"
Though Harry had an awful feeling he knew the answer when Hermione tensed at seeing him, he wanted an answer before anything else.
"Last I checked, we lived here."
"Harry," Hermione whispered almost immediately, "I think we know who D.M. is."
Lowering his wand for the sole reason he felt far too weak to hold it in the air, Harry breathed heavily, feeling his chest inflate with a mix of fury and utter confusion.
"What happened at lunch, Herm?" Malfoy asked, looking right pass Harry and at Hermione with about as much fondness as they'd ever seen on his face.
"I-" Hermione seemed to falter, stepping up beside Harry as they shared a rather disconcerted glance.
"I've got to sit down," Harry broke whatever silence it was that Hermione had created, waltzing directly pass Malfoy without a single touch, his gait leading him into the kitchen without another word.
Sighing, Hermione gave Malfoy a rather sympathetic look and followed her friend immediately, knowing that he was probably having a dreadfully hard time with all that had just happened.
Harry had pushed through the wooden door, swinging it open with a huff as he pulled the first chair he could with a screech and threw his body into it like he would his old Quidditch robes. The boy-who-lived didn't want to dare think about anything involving his marriage to Malfoy, for surely someone must be pulling a joke on them, he was sure. Hermione, however, didn't look as sure when she sat before him and took his hands away from rubbing his tired visage.
"I understand how you must feel, Harry."
"Do you, Hermione?" He asked her immediately, but it didn't last long when she recoiled, almost letting go of his shaking fingers, "I'm sorry."
Their grip was tight as they looked at one-another, green and brown eyes wavering in a new bond. Everything felt like it had happened in the blink of an eye, like lightning had hit and now all of hell had broken loose. Those few seconds as they shared the stagnant air and musty smells were the first few seconds of peace they'd had since that hooded figure attacked them.
"Do you remember anything from this… time? I suppose with your story gone, that means it really did end in someone's hands who allowed the future to change. It's rather bizarre, if you think on it."
"I reckon, but I don't remember a thing about this," Harry answered her rightly, "You?"
"No," She replied the same, her breath shaky when released from her pale lips.
Both parties were stunned, though not as stunned as when they'd seen Malfoy walk down the stairs. It was only then they realized he was shirtless, thinking back on the memory.
"Malfoy!" Hermione called, hearing sudden footsteps again as Harry tossed her a rather rancid glare. It reminded her of Ron, momentarily.
"What are you doing that for?" Harry questioned in distress.
"We need to get answers, and we can't just go ask anyone who we are and what's happened the past 23 years, can we?" She retorted just before Malfoy waltzed into the kitchen, his face worried.
"Is everything alright?"
"No, it is not," Hermione answered him with dignity, standing up and releasing Harry's hands, though it only distressed the wizard more than previous.
"Oh… alright then, how can I help?" Malfoy replied, his eyes glancing at his husband with a bit of worry, obviously wishing to reach out and touch him… though he could tell it probably was not in his best interest.
"We need a quick recap of the past 23 years."
Surprise lit up the blonde's face as he nodded carefully, "Yeah, I reckon I can do that."
Hermione sat back down in her seat, dreadfully surprised Draco Malfoy had accepted such a request without batting an eyelash.
So, while Malfoy seemed to gather his thoughts a bit, grabbing a chair and such, Harry looked around the kitchen and dining area, sighing in content to see such a place. It didn't seem to be that much changed bar a few pictures he couldn't really see- Hermione had been harping him for weeks to get new prescriptions for his glasses- and the whole of it looked much cleaner. There was a bit of a sparkle to the place, really, and it was obvious that there were two people living there now that Harry got a good look at it. This also made him curious as to why the entrance hall was still grey and dark like it had always been.
"Well, Harry, Ron, Blaise, and I all grew up together. It was just the four of us for a long while, as our parents were all good friends-"
"The Malfoy's associated with the Weasley's?" Hermione blurted, earning her an amused look.
"Yes, like I said, our parents were good friends. My dad worked with Arthur a lot in the ministry, and my dad, well, he was in love with your mum, Harry, but everyone knew your parents were destined or some muggle fantasy she always spoke about-"
"What?" Harry interrupted, though he had comprehended exactly what Draco Malfoy had told him.
"I will explain, just let me do it, will you two?" Malfoy said, a bit harshly, though he calmed down just after his words.
Hermione suspected highly it was confusion about that lack in explanation for the display they'd just put forth.
"Of course," She answered for her and Harry, taking the liberty of casting a charm on him that he tossed her a very crude glance for, muttering his own end to it.
"Anyways," as Malfoy started again, both wizard and witch could see how odd he felt, explaining a life to two people who were supposed to know it already, "It was just the four of us, growing up together as the best of friends. We were bloody thrilled when we got to Hogwarts, even after being separated into two different houses where Harry and Ron met you, Hermione. Luckily enough, Slytherins and Gryffindors had most of our classes together. It was funny, actually, how we started just… being friends with you because you would not leave us alone. We all snuck out one night, near Hallow's Eve, and we all got caught because you turned us into Ron's older brother Percy. For some reason, only known to eleven year-old boys, we decided that you were our mate after that. The loudest howler wasn't even Molly's, funny enough, it was definitely Lily's, I think she was royally-"
"Wait," Harry couldn't help himself, "My mum and dad, they're…?" He trailed off and looked right at Hermione with sheer uncertainty, her own mind obviously wondering the same thing.
Squinting a bit, Malfoy cocked his head and said rather stupidly, "They're in Godric's Hollow… like they've always been."
Though, the stupid answer was exactly what Harry needed to be rather giddy, even as he attempted to corral the feelings so Hermione would not scorn him. Though, Hermione looked almost as giddy. Then there was Draco Malfoy who looked about as pleased as Snape was on a good day: which wasn't pleased at all.
"Just wait a minute, Malfoy, as you can tell, we went through some interesting magic these past few hours, and got shifted from one timeline to another where Harry's parents aren't dead." Hermione had stressed her words so that the man before her understood their admittedly annoying interruptions.
"You mean, time changed from what you guys remember to what I… and the rest of everyone else remember?" The duo guessed that he now had to understand a bit more of their uncertainty now.
"Quite," Hermione replied with pursed lips and a straight back.
"Bollocks."
"My sentiments exactly," Harry agreed, though he looked a bit sick about it.
"Do you want me to go on?"
"Please," the duo spoke simultaneously, smiling falsely.
Both were extremely uncomfortable, if not more so, as they sat before someone who recalled living an entire life with them that neither knew at all. Harry hated the affection he could sense coming off of Malfoy, and as he nervously fiddled his wand, he could tell Hermione hated it too.
"So, we got to really know each other first year, but after that, it was downhill, or uphill? Regardless of your muggle euphemisms, the five of us were it. Hermione, you and I graduated top of the class, but you beat me by a single O in History of Magic because I missed class that day in seventh year.. Best not to tell you what for," Malfoy looked over at Harry, however, and the three of them could probably guess well enough.
"Over the years," he continued, "The lot of us all wanted to work in the ministry like our parents before us, though you never wanted your father's place, Harry."
As if pausing for dramatic effect and to see if the pair was willing to interrupt, Malfoy withheld the information for a solid breath.
"James Potter, Minister for Magic. Now I can tell you have always wanted to be as influential as you could, Hermione, but certainly not powerful. I think one day, James will gladly hand over such a title to you.
"I don't work anymore, but I bloody well tried. Wasn't for me, besides, Harry goes out and almost gets killed enough for the both of us as an Auror. Hermione you're head of a department now, Blaise is running around somewhere on this earth with Pansy, bonkers he is, never worked a day in his bloody life. And Ron," at this Malfoy scowled heavily, even against the fondness he spoke of the man earlier, "is currently dating my little sister, but he works with the older Weasley's, Fred and George."
Hermione and Harry had to hold their breath.
"Aries, Merlin save me, insists he is who she's going to marry, but blimey, I hate even looking at them. For a while I thought she was going to end up with Luna, but I could never tell if those two were just friends or not. You know, they're both off in their own worlds more than Harry here is trying to get himself killed, which I swear at this point us Potter's should own a portion of Mungo's for-"
"Malfoy?" Hermione interrupted his seemingly vicious need to ramble on like Hagrid when he wasn't supposed to be saying things. Though, knowing Malfoy took Harry's name also startled her as well to make sure that she stopped him before Harry looked any further pale.
"Is there anything else we should know?" Harry asked regardless of the sickness he felt coming forth, his stomach lurching at the mere thought of having to share his house with Draco; let alone a bed.
"Not that I can think of… might be best for you lot to ask questions," he said sincerely, "I'll be as much help as possible."
The blonde wizard looked rather calm as he crossed his legs, his clothes fitting rather nicely considering how muggle they were. Harry was distracted to see his left hand resting elegantly on the upright leg, silver ring encasing the same finger as his own did. Though, Harry couldn't hate Malfoy just then, pity, maybe, but not hate. This was a man who knew a completely different world, a different Harry Potter. All the thoughts in his jumbled and rather abused mind distracted him enough that Hermione asked the first question.
"Tom Riddle, does the name have any significance to you?"
Draco's eyes widened, and he sat to attention in a matter of seconds.
"Yes, it does. He was a magical child, killed at a very young age by Albus Dumbledore. He is in Azkaban to this day, and there's rumors that the dementors are so afraid of him that he still has his mind all these years later."
Both Hermione and Harry sat in shock, though the witch was able to snap out of it much more quickly than her wizard companion.
"You mean to say that he was never Headmaster of Hogwarts?"
"Well, he was just long enough to hire the new Headmistress, McGonagall, before the aurors found him out and arrested him."
That earned a sigh of relief, and an explanation from Hermione. She explained to Draco Malfoy the things Riddle had done in their timeline, how he had murdered and so forth… how Harry's parents had died. It struck the blonde many ideas of why Dumbledore had done such a thing, now, but somehow he still felt queasy about the murdering a child.
"My god-father, Sirius-" Harry started, but the other wizard seemed disinclined to let him finish.
"Spoiled you rotten, but after you hit third year, he started travelling. Right now he's in Romania with Ron's brother Charlie, studying dragons."
Harry smiled far-off, and Hermione seemed to look proudly at her friend.
"What about the Potter's and Black's friend, Remus Lupin?"
"You mean Professor Lupin? We had him for seven years worth of dark arts instruction. Best teacher in the school no offense to you, though, Hermione."
"You said I don't teach there," Hermione answered with a bit of a pale to her cheeks, her eyes widening with a doe-eyed look.
Harry knew that look, he'd known it for many years of chasing down a horrid wizard, it was a look that meant she knew something awful.
"Your husband does," Draco smiled as if he'd already told her, almost looking worried about her. He must know the look too, Harry surmised, though he wished at least one of them would clue him in on what they knew.
"My husband… Severus Snape?"
It was then Harry wished he hadn't ever heard her say the possibility or see Malfoy nod in the positive, Merlin, he wished his curiosity would have just let him not care to know who her husband was. Though, the awful info lead him to come to the resuce.
"Do you know anything about Hagrid?"
"Professor Hagrid," Malfoy answered again, "In-"
"Care of Magical Creatures?" The boy-who-lived replied, wondering if that title even stood any longer.
"Exactly. All seven years as well. He is a right odd wizard, though, I must admit."
"Wizard?" Hermione echoed, brows knit past the horror that was confirming the identity of her husband.
Harry felt it hardly compared to being married to Malfoy, but he wasn't going to tell Hermione that, not when she'd posed a question that also entered his own mind.
"Yeah, he went to Hogwarts too, just like most of the staff. If I did my math correctly, he would have been at school with Riddle, right?"
"Yes, but Hermione left out that Riddle would have caused Hagrid to lose his wand, atop the many other things he did like how he would have killed a young girl named Myrtle Warren."
"Ah," Malfoy replied, though it didn't ease the tension that had come from the room.
He seemed to realize something, however, looking at the watch on his wrist in great interest.
"Bollocks," he said and looked wide-eyed at the both of them, "Dinner is in a few hours."
"And?" Hermione asked him, her contempt shining through the cordial way she'd been acting with him just then.
"It's just the lot of us, actually, but we had dinner planned for tonight. You two, Severus, my father, and Harry's parents-"
"What about your mother?" Hermione questioned the blonde again, a small smile returning to her visage.
"She passed on after having Aries… neither of us knew her well, I was Harry's age when the Potter's died in your world."
"Narcissa saved my life in that world, so she wasn't all that bad."
Hermione nodded in agreement with Harry, and it seemed if Malfoy hadn't looked at Harry with love before, he certainly was then.
"You should get home to Severus, Hermione. You'll be back here soon, and it is Friday, so we'll have the weekend to figure this out. Do you plan on telling anyone else?"
"No!" They both shouted, though both Hermione and Harry wanted to shout to the world that neither were who it thought they were just to relieve the stress of what was happening. Though, both were on a level of knowing that there would only be more harm done than good.
"Alright, alright, but should I help you home? Or maybe you can take the floo?"
Both parties were distressed about being separated in such a foreign environment, but there was an unspoken understanding as well that this too would happen eventually, may as well be now.
So Hermione left, and both were left on their own to deal with this new world until they could see each other again.
