Author's Note: Hello my darling readers! I'm so sorry for the length of my absence. I've been sick and battling a bout of depression, which unsurprisingly had disastrous effects on my writer's muse. But lo' and behold, I wake up this morning energized and ready to wage battle with my keyboard because I finally know how to make it happen. And of course, it's our darling Draco's 38th birthday today. So, in a way, it feels a bit like birthday magic and I just love it.

As always, I don't own Harry Potter. I just love two characters that never got a chance to be what they could be, and decided to say 'fuck it' and write something myself.


Draco's patience had finally reached its limits. Every time he tried to bring up the letters, Granger artfully dodged his queries. Watching her demurely tip-toe around the subject was nearly as amusing and endearing as it was infuriating. She'd shutter her eyes and completely shut down each time he dared challenge her, which only served to expound upon his mounting dread. Draco dragged his hand through his hair, roughly tugging the ends to soothe his frustration.

"Initium novum," he muttered, even though a fond smile played upon his lips. A new beginning was certainly apropos, he surmised. Quicksilver eyes scanned Hermione's common room, before Draco's brow furrowed. He'd been certain he'd find Granger curled up by the fire with a book in hand, much like he had every single day for the last two weeks. Moving further into her living quarters, the sound of running water reached his ears, and Draco realized Granger was in the shower. Naked.

With hurried steps, Draco made his way to Hermione's bookshelf, desperate for distraction. Becoming close to the brunette beauty was an ever-evolving form of exquisite torture. All the things that originally besotted him were still present and spending so much time with her had only lengthened his list of admirable qualities possessed by one Hermione Granger. Forcefully shaking his head to dispel those dangerous thoughts, Draco trailed his fingertips over the aged spines of Granger's books.

It did him no good to think about how beguiling she looked with a blush painting her cheeks. Or how her teeth would sink into her plump bottom lip when deep in thought. And then there was the sound of her laughter, made all the more entrancing because he'd been the one to pull it from her lovely lips. Grimacing at his thoughts, Draco's long, pale fingers paused over an ornate spine, emblazoned with the words 'The Tale of the Silver Dragon.' A cheeky smirk brightened his face, and Draco pulled the book from the shelf, undeniably curious about the story hidden within its pages.

It was only then when the book weighed heavily within his grasp; the pale wizard realized something was off regarding the tome. Something shifted beneath the cover, and Draco scowled before cracking the book open. His mouth dropped open in shock at the discovery before him, ignoring the odd transfiguration of the pages that cradled the treasure within – Draco traced the sparkling chain with trembling fingers. What was Granger doing with a time-turner? With this time-turner?

There was no mistaking the intrinsic design or overwhelming beauty of the piece. Draco would know, he'd stared at it in awed contemplation often enough. How had Granger come to possess a Malfoy family heirloom? Did have anything to do with the letters? If so, how and by what means had all of this come to pass? And how in the bloody hell was Granger keeping it all to herself?

Collapsing heavily into one of Hermione's overstuffed chairs, Draco stared with unseeing eyes down at the time-turner, lost in a labyrinth of dark thoughts. He must have finally found the courage to use the blasted thing at some point in the future and visited Granger. Hot shame and mortification burned through his veins and Draco groaned, letting his head drop forward to meet his chin. No wonder Granger became so squirrelly whenever he tried to broach the subject. Had he thrown himself at her feet, declaring his undying love and affection for the witch? Did he toss the letters at her as proof of his feelings, most likely terrifying the poor thing beyond imagination?

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see," Granger's unexpectedly gorgeous singing announced her arrival before she strolled into the room, "All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free. Blackbird fly…" her voice trailed off with a squeak as she became aware of his presence.

"Draco!" Granger's voice was shrill, and her mortification burned brightly on her pale cheeks. His pulse raced, just as it did every time his given name fell from her lips. "I wasn't expecting you," she murmured and ducked her chin. A surge of affection for her nearly overwhelmed him, but with what he held in his hands, Draco couldn't allow himself to be swept up in her adorable actions.

"Granger," even he was surprised by how cold he sounded. Hermione's wide, amber eyes flew to his – her lips pulled down in a frown. Keeping his face carefully blank was a struggle, but he must've managed because Granger searched his face and eyes before dropping her gaze to the book held in his hands. Her normal rosy complexion paled to a deathly white as her eyes shut with a muttered curse. Between the shock of finding Draco waiting for her and what he'd found in her absence, Granger had entirely abandoned drying her sodden curls and instead slowly dragged herself into the armchair across from the one he already occupied.

"I believe you owe me an explanation, Hermione."

Hermione was sure she resembled a deer frozen in the headlight of an oncoming vehicle. First and foremost, she never sang in front of anyone, besides her parents. The horror of being caught crooning mixed easily with the terror she felt upon noticing the time-turner out in the open for all eyes to see. She felt her mouth open and close several times, though no words could work their way past the lump in her throat. Hermione watched Draco's jaw work, clenching and unclenching as he continued to stare her down.

She had to applaud his herculean effort, for Draco had been more understanding and patient that she ever thought him capable. Hermione chewed her bottom lip nervously, struggling to find the words to make him understand, she never wanted to keep this from him. Not really. But every time she thought about spilling all her secrets, it seemed like an invisible force stole the words from her lips. Hermione startled, brought out of her scattered and shattered thoughts by Draco's thumb pulling her lip free from her punishing teeth. "Stop before you draw blood, Granger. Where did you get this time-turner? Please answer me."

Meeting his gaze was far harder than Hermione liked to admit, but when those mercurial eyes softened taking in her remorse and panic, she finally found herself telling him everything.

"The night after the final battle, after most made their way to the dormitories for rest, I went back to the Burrow with the Weasley's," her voice was soft and trembling. She loathed showing so much emotion, especially since she was so nervous and every effort to hide it was a failure. Twisting her hands to expunge some of the nervous energy, Hermione continued. "I was awakened by an older woman. It was a shock, and after waging battle only hours before, I was more than startled by some odd woman's presence over my bed."

Hermione watched as Draco swallowed thickly, confusion pulling his brows down low over his eyes. Before he could question anything, she hurriedly continued, knowing if she didn't come clean right now, she might bollocks it all up later. "It was me. Or, a future version of me," Hermione felt her tongue dart out to wet her dry lips. "She sat with me and spoke at length of my future. A horrifically bleak one, none-the-less."

Her eyes left his then, not wanting to see the concern burning there, and instead turned towards the fire, crackling and popping next to them. Melancholy seeping into her tone, Hermione murmured, "It was awful, Draco. Ronald and I were married in her life, and it wasn't a happy marriage. We had several," she paused and took in a ragged breath. "There were several tragedies that weighed heavily on the marriage, and once it was dissolved, apparently she lived in relative isolation, hidden away from the world."

With a heavy sigh, Hermione turned to smile sadly at the pale wizard that had stolen her heart and constantly ruled her thoughts. "She was brilliant though, a potioneer. Cured Lycanthropy, and before you ask, I did ask her about it, but she wouldn't say. I don't know why. Anyway, she told me that when she woke that morning, the Prophet's headline was…" she faltered momentarily. "You died. At a ridiculously young age. You weren't battling a life-threatening disease or anything, but…"

Draco sat back, shock contorting his handsome and aristocratic features. Unthinking, Hermione reached across the divide, placing a reassuring hand on his knee. "Don't lose it yet, Malfoy. There's more."

"More," Draco croaked. "Merlin, Granger!"

"Anyway," Hermione continued. "This older version of myself was just as shocked as you are, and had a good cry over it. Before she could wrap her mind around your untimely demise, a barrister came knocking on the door. He introduced himself as your barrister, and of course, she argued that there must be a mistake because there'd be nothing for you to leave her. As much as she was aware, you still loathed her very existence. The barrister explained that you had left letters to her and a pouch of some kind. "

Draco's troubled expression tugged at her heartstrings and Hermione barely breathed her next words, "He told her he believed you died of a broken heart."

Glassy silver eyes flashed in the light of the fire, as they focused on her misty gaze. "Blood fucking hell, Granger," his voice was hoarse, and she watched helplessly as he scrubbed his hands over his face.

"I know," she whispered. The pain the thought of this gentle, kind man meeting his end because of heartbreak and loneliness brought was tremendous. Spending the last two weeks getting to know Draco had been two of the most fascinating and entrancing weeks she'd ever lived; His dry humour and wit never failed to make her laugh. His rare but breathtaking smiles were enough to shift the world on its axis. And Draco was so much more than she'd ever given him credit for being.

He was brilliant, on par with her level of intellect and that alone made him unbearably attractive. How long had she desired someone to challenge and intrigue her? And here he was, sitting across from her, beautifully broken and lost. Hermione wished for the words to make everything better, so they could return the easy comfort they had built together.

"After that, she read the letters. They're –"Hermione paused, a soft smile playing along the corners of her lips. "Oh, Malfoy, I don't have words for your letters. Only that they mean the world me and the older version of myself." Ducking her head, the petite, young witch nervously began plaiting her still wet hair. Anything to distract herself from that confession and the raging blush that came along with it.

"As you can imagine, reading your words and knowing that you were gone was highly emotional for her. But, once the letters were read, there was still the illusive pouch. Hold on a moment," she pushed up from her seat and rushed into her bedroom. It only took a moment to grab the bundle from her nightstand, and Hermione was handing over the letter that came with the time-turner. She felt it would be easier if he could read his own words regarding the situation.

She curled herself up in her chair, watching as he read. An affectionate grin quirked her lips at the blush that reddened his cheeks and the tips of his ears, no doubt embarrassed by the contents. Hermione was fascinated with the way his lips moved almost imperceptibly as he read, his brows lifting in surprise on a few occasions. Hermione had read that letter repeatedly herself. If nothing else, Draco can make an endearing and powerful argument on his behalf. Though, as his hands began to shake, and he seemed to have trouble swallowing, she began to feel the stirrings of panic once more.

"Draco?" Hermione whispered, her voice cracking with concern. He looked at her, and she was knocked breathless at the depth of desolation swirling within his grey eyes. Oh no, oh no…whispered through her mind, a desperate sadness already beginning to claw at her heart.

"Coward to the end," he whispered morosely. One humourless chuckle later and he was shaking his head, holding her gaze. "Listen, Granger," and her gut twisted at how lifeless he sounded. "Please don't read my letters and feel obligated to enter into a relationship with me. Merlin, Hermione, you're all I've ever wanted," his gaze softened as he spoke of the tender flame that burned for her, "but I don't want you to give me a chance just because of my bleak future. I want your whole heart, the chance to love you as you should be loved-worshipped and adored. But I want you to want this just as much as I-for who I am now, not the desolate man who died at a too-young age."

Hermione could feel the emotion welling within her at the sight of the raw honestly splayed across his alabaster features, and she thought the sheer magnitude of them would rip her heart from its cage. Slowly, she began to nod, hot tears splashing over her cheeks. Draco reached over and wiped at the intrusive tears with the pad of his thumb, giving her a small smile. "Please, take some time to think of what I've said, of what you know of me so far. Try to imagine your future, and if you can include me in that life, I'll be here waiting for you. I'll wait for you as long as it takes for you to choose me, Hermione."


Endnote: So? Good? Bad? Indifferent? I'm dying to know.

ps - Happy birthday, Draco! Love you, darling.

xx- otterly