Chapter 6

There is so much history in the way he looks at her. In the way he says her name. When they are together, there is a current that runs between them; like an electric charge on the verge of erupting into a perfect storm.

-Lang Leav

Present Time: June 2000 / Draco's Time: Same as present

Draco was sitting at the table in the spare office where he usually met Fitzgerald, waiting to see which Ministry lackey they'd replaced him with. He checked his watch and sighed before beginning to tap his fingers on the table. If this new liaison didn't arrive in the next thirty seconds, he'd be late, which wasn't-

"Are you literally drumming your fingers on the table? Can you be any more obnoxious, Malfoy?"

Granger had appeared in the doorway, holding a large stack of books and parchments. It looked heavy and if she were anyone else, Draco would offer to take them from her. Instead, he leaned away from her, not wanting a repeat of the last time he'd touched her.

"What are you doing here, Granger? Do you know where my liaison is? He's late."

"Why do you assume it's a he?" she asked as she set her large pile of books on the table.

"Fine. Where is she?"

"Right here," she said, pushing the door closed.

"Funny."

"It's not a joke," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the door. Draco looked her up and down. She was wearing a plain skirt and top with ugly shoes, the kind that were probably comfortable, but looked awful. She looked tired and hadn't tried to hide it with makeup, like most witches would.

Her hair was pulled up into a bun on her head, secured by a quill, but her curls had escaped and only about half of them were still tied up in the quill, just enough to keep her hair out of her face. Draco could hear Daphne's reaction now. "Why do witches insist on using office supplies as hair accessories?! Can they not afford hair ties? They cost like two knuts!"

To Granger's credit, she was holding up well under his scrutiny, standing tall with her chin up. Though lack of boldness had never been her problem. "They picked you?" Draco sneered.

"No," she said sharply as she took a seat behind her pile of books. "They asked thirty other people before me but they all refused to work with you. I was the last one left in the department."

Draco nodded. That made sense. Then, out of nowhere, she hit his arm.

"Ow! What is wrong with you?" he cried, pulling his arm back.

"Of course that's not what happened. Yes, they picked me. Kingsley himself came to ask me. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes."

She scowled and Draco was glad to see that her frown, mixed with how tired and messy she was, made her look decidedly not pretty. She wasn't ugly, but not very desirable, either. This was good. It meant his attraction to her at the Gala had been some temporary lapse in sanity, probably just a product of a well-fitting dress mixing with the fact that Draco hadn't shagged anyone in months.

"At least I earned this position instead of just inheriting it," she said, drawing Draco's attention back to the present.

"I miss Fritz," he sighed.

"I bet you do. You and that bigoted sycophant probably had loads in common. Here." She shoved a piece of parchment at him.

"What is this?"

"It has a title," she retorted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I can read the title, despite your atrocious penmanship, but these can't be the laws going through the review process next month. None of these were the ones I was working on with your predecessor."

"I know. I scrapped those. I didn't like them," she said simply.

Draco had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from yelling. "Months of work, scrapped," he said through gritted teeth, "just because you didn't like them?"

She seemed like she'd been awaiting this question and had a long-winded response prepared. "Augustus was pandering to your Pureblood faction for years, probably trying to garner funds for a future campaign. But his priorities didn't align with Kingsley's and the rest of the Department's. He was about to get pushed out and he knew that, which is why he quit, so now I'm here.

"As you know by now, no law goes to the Elders for approval without buyoff from all five interest groups. And as the person who is responsible for meeting with those groups to get said buyoff, I choose which laws get worked on and which don't. So yes, Malfoy, to answer your question, I didn't like them and now they're dead."

"Power-hungry much, Granger?"

She just shrugged.

Draco put his hand on the paper with the list of laws and pushed it back across the table. "You may choose which laws get routed for approval, but nothing goes to the Elders without my 'buyoff,' as you said, and I'm rejecting these."

"You didn't even look at them."

"I know."

She rolled her eyes, then looked up at the ceiling and said, "So what? As long as we're working together no laws will be approved?"

"Looks like it."

She sighed and pulled out another list from her stack of papers. This one was written in Fitzgerald's handwriting. "I know you have laws you want to get passed, too. Augustus gave me this."

Fucking traitor. It was the list of laws Draco had been trying to work on. For inspiration, he'd pieced together countless notes he'd found in his father's desk. Draco and Fitzgerald had a deal that after this first round of reviews, some of Draco's laws would get on the list. Fucking wanker. He'd probably known he wouldn't be in this role for the next review cycle when he made that promise.

"This first law is a non-starter," Granger was saying, "but-"

"Why?" Draco interrupted.

"Reduced taxes for rich people so they can keep getting richer. A little cliché, don't you think?"

"In the current system we have no incentive to get richer since we're taxed so much, it's hardly worth it. That keeps us from investing in new ventures, which keeps the economy from growing."

"You still get more money as your earnings increase, your tax rate just goes up," she argued. "There are still plenty of incentives to invest."

"Not enough."

"People who are suffering should get money from the people who aren't. They're not going to take all of it, you'll still rule the world, but a small amount to you is huge for others. And everyone deserves to have their basic needs tended to."

"Maybe I would choose to help the suffering with my additional earnings, but I should be the one to decide."

"Yeah right," she scoffed. "If you made an extra thousand Galleons right now, you're saying you'd give it to charity? Which one?"

"I give more to charity every year than your entire salary."

"I doubt the percentage is as high."

"Really? Do you give 30% of your annual income to charitable donations?"

That shut her up. She pursed her lips and glared at him for a few seconds before saying, "Maybe."

"Bullshit."

Granger ignored him and looked back down at the list. "This next law I like. We can work together on this. See? I can have an open mind. I suggest you try it, sometime."

She was referring to the law he'd proposed to change the requirements on his position to keep people like Rabastan or random foreigners from holding it.

"I think claiming you're open-minded is going a bit far. You just like the law because you don't want to end up working alongside a mass murderer one day."

"I'm working with a failed murderer instead. So much better."

"Fuck you!" he spat. She'd gone too far. "Who do you think you are you f-"

She silenced him with a wave of her hand. "I'm going to stop you there, before you get yourself thrown out, today."

Draco glared at her. He gripped his wand in his pocket and wordlessly removed the Silencing Spell, but still remained quiet. He hadn't been about to say 'filthy Mudblood,' like she probably thought, but 'fucking bitch,' though neither was a very good idea. She just had this way of riling him up and making him lose control. He hated that. Draco used Occlumency to clear his mind while she talked.

"I know you don't like me because I'm a Muggleborn. I know you think I'm useless and not worthy to occupy a seat at the same table as you, but here I am. This is a good opportunity for me and I'm not giving it up because of you.

"I'm also not going to let the laws stop and I know you don't want that, either. So, we're going to have to figure out how to work together. But if you call me a Mudblood or dare insult any of my friends, not only will I find a way to get you thrown out of this role, but I'll tell Harry and we both know how much you need his help, right now."

Draco took several breaths before responding. "Running behind Potter's skirts? Nothing's changed since school, has it?"

Her lips turned up slightly. "The legal term is 'coercion.' You might want to brush up on the terminology. Augustus told me you don't have a great grasp on legal jargon and I'd hate for you to approve a law that didn't end up doing what you thought, just because you couldn't understand it."

"It's your job to explain the intent and potential impact of every proposed law on the members of the faction I represent," Draco growled.

"I'll try my best," she shrugged, "but I'm very busy and you're not the only special interest group I need to keep track of."

Draco wanted to strangle her. Instead, he gripped the edge of the table tightly and leaned forward before seething, "I. Hate. You."

Granger leaned forward until her face was just inches away from his. He could see the gold in her eyes glittering again, but there was nothing endearing about it this time. "Ditto."

Present Time: July 2000 / Draco's Time: Same as present

Granger canceled their next meeting, claiming she needed time to prepare a few drafts for Draco to review but he didn't mind, he needed time to prepare too. He had found copies of every news article ever written about her (starting as far back as the one he'd helped Rita Skeeter with, in Fourth Year) and had been pouring over them all week, determined to learn everything he could about his new opponent.

By their next meeting in early July, Draco was ready for their interaction and marched confidently onto the lift after arriving at the Ministry. Not only was he armed with a plethora of information about Granger, but the house elves had finally found Brain Elixir at an obscure Apothecary in Scotland and bought the entire inventory. It was a Potion that was difficult to make and not in the regular stock of most Apothecaries.

As Draco had learned during his time jump to November, it was incredibly useful in helping him control his mind, which he needed today so he didn't lose his temper again. He'd have to figure out how to make the Potion sometime, when he wasn't spending all his free hours studying legal terms and psychoanalyzing annoying Gryffindors.

When the voice in the lift announced, "Level 2 - Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Draco squared his shoulders, cleared his mind one last time, and sauntered over to the office to meet Granger.

She was already sitting at the table, scratching her quill across a parchment. Her hair wasn't secured with office supplies today but hanging loosely over her shoulders. Otherwise, she looked the same. It was weird seeing her in person after studying so many photos of her in the paper. Draco cleared his throat and she jumped. He rolled his eyes. Hadn't she been expecting him?

"Hello, Malfoy," she started, her tone eerily polite. "Have a seat."

Draco closed the door and leaned against the wall. "I'll stand."

"For the entire meeting?"

He shrugged.

"All because I asked you to sit and you don't want to listen to me? You're so stubborn."

Draco shrugged again. He knew from his research she was also stubborn. The way she'd never left Potter during the war and her dogged pursuit of justice for underserved creatures at the beginning of her career. That required a lot of persistence, which was just a nice word for stubbornness.

"Fine," Granger sighed. "I've been thinking about this new...arrangement...and like I said last time, we can't just let the legislative process stop. We need to learn how to work with each other. So -" she turned back to her pile of parchment, picked a sheet from the top, then stood up and handed it to Draco.

"I've made a list of arcane laws that need to be ratified but have never been given much attention. None of these changes should be very contentious and maybe by working together on these, we can get used to each other while also getting some work done."

She pointed at a paragraph at the top of the page. "This first one-" Draco caught a whiff of something floral and leaned back. When she noticed, a hurt look flashed across her eyes and she stepped away from him. He was about to defend himself and explain how he wasn't disgusted about her blood status - that he just didn't want to be close enough to smell her. Before he could figure out how to word that explanation, she continued speaking.

"Um, this law, as written, doesn't allow women to inherit any of the large Pureblood estates, like yours. If something were to happen to you, which would be terribly tragic," she added sarcastically, "your mother would lose everything to whichever foreign male relative of yours is next in line."

"I-" Draco faltered and looked back at the summary she'd written out on the parchment. "What? Is that true?"

"Yes." She crossed her arms and waited for him to look back up at her before asking, "Will you help me change it?"

Draco nodded.

She seemed surprised. "Oh, that was easier than I thought it would be. Okay, look at that next one." This time, she stayed back instead of leaning in to read the parchment with him. He was glad, but a part of him wanted to smell her again and see if he could pick out which flowers she smelled like.

None of that! Fuck, you need to get laid. Draco cleared his mind again, then focused on the summary of the next law and the proposed changes.

"The next law says no one with mixed blood can inherit any of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Estates. So, if hell froze over and you deigned to marry a worthless half-blood, or worse, Muggleborn, your kids wouldn't be considered heirs."

Draco paused and rearranged his Occlumency Shields, bracing himself for an attack. "You're expecting me to fight you on this."

"I am," she replied tersely.

"Why are you so convinced I still hold those views? I've publicly renounced them."

She scoffed. "You had no other choice. But in private, you have a mini-aneurysm every time you get close to me. I can tell you still think I'm disgusting and worthless. The world may think you're reformed, Malfoy, but I'm going to need more convincing."

"You know everything there is to know, don't you?" he snarled. "You think because you know a lot of spells and can memorize laws, that that translates into knowing people, but you're wrong. You don't know me."

"I know enough," she snapped. "And who are you to talk? Are you claiming to 'know people?' You? The person who dismisses others outright because of their Hogwarts House, their blood, their gender, their species, or even what they're wearing. Can you really see past those labels to the person underneath? I don't think so."

"I know you."

"You don't know anything about me."

This was it. The opportunity Draco had been hoping to steer the conversation towards. After she'd threatened him during their last meeting, it was clear she thought she was the one in charge. It was time for Draco to show her that he had a bit of leverage over her, too. That he wasn't going to stand by and let her push him around.

"Tell me, please," she pressed. "Tell me all these things you apparently know about me."

Draco hesitated. Do it! She asked for it.

Maybe this is too harsh. She showed up today with a peace offering, another voice chimed in.

Then she insulted you. Channel your inner Lucius and do it!

Draco raised his Occlumency Shields one more time before starting his speech. "You're a judgmental know-it-all who jumps to conclusions without considering the other side. You're convinced you know everything and take these insane, idealistic positions that are supposed to 'help,' but you're too closed-minded to consider that maybe there's more to the story - maybe you got it wrong.

"You did this with that ill-informed House Elf club at Hogwarts (which just served to turn every elf in the castle against you) and you did it again with your first law to expand the boundaries of the centaurs' land - something they ended up hating, a reaction you'd have anticipated had you bothered to talk to them ahead of time. But you didn't need to do that, you know better than everyone because you're the wonderful Hermione Granger."

Draco paused to take a breath and before he could continue, Granger cut in. "I was overly idealistic when I was younger. And I was naïve to think I knew best for the centaurs, you're right. I know it's a weakness but I've improved a lot in the past year and one of the reasons I took this role was to continue to work on it.

Shit. That was unexpectedly mature. Draco had been waiting for her to fight back, not accept his insults so easily.

Keep going. This time, the voice in his head sounded alarmingly like his father's. "I have more," he announced.

"Please," she said, waving for him to continue.

"The irony with you is that you know how everything around you should be, but when you focus inward, you're lost. You can't sit still, you can't get comfortable in your own skin, and you have no idea who you really are or why you're here. The only thing you know for sure is that you're not good enough. So, you work - hard - to fix the problems around you, hoping that in fixing them, you'll fix yourself somehow.

"You work and work and work, thinking one day you'll finally get that sense of peace you've been chasing. But you'll never find it. Ten, twenty years down the line, all you'll have to show for your efforts are a pile of laws that made a tiny dent on the corruption in this world, an unrelenting burden of responsibility, and chronic exhaustion.

"As the years pass, you'll grow more and more resentful of those around you who are happy and content. They figured it out - but how? They didn't work as hard as you. And you'll become bitter and hard to be around. The few times you let yourself pause, you'll hate it, because you'll hate you. And you'll hate your friends because to them, you're still just a stereotype. You'll hate your boyfriend, who will be your husband by then, because he doesn't get it. Because he doesn't understand why you push so hard and makes a joke out of it all, constantly telling you to 'relax.'

"You'll wonder what it's all been for, but won't have an answer. So, you'll keep looking, keep working. Write another law, take on some new responsibility - all the while, searching for something that's not there. But you'll get a lot of awards along the way, so that's something."

While Draco had been speaking, Granger had been staring at him, never once breaking eye contact. He'd watched her break with each subsequent word but hadn't stopped talking until he'd said all he'd planned back at home. When he was finished, he could tell he'd torn her to shreds, but she was doing a great job of hiding it.

Her expression was stern and she was standing completely still, not fidgeting like she normally did. But her eyes gave her away. They were devastated and sparkling with unshed tears. So, he'd guessed right.

When Draco had researched Granger, he'd sensed a familiar desperation in her that he often felt himself. It was like she was looking and looking for something, anything to quell the turmoil inside. He knew self-hate when he saw it.

Ever since their first year at Hogwarts, she'd worked tirelessly to prove she belonged in the Wizarding World. And she'd done that - she was famous and renowned as one of the most brilliant wizards of the age. So why keep working? Because she wasn't trying to prove to the world she belonged. She was trying to prove it to herself.

Draco had read her opinion pieces and knew it wasn't possible for her to be so vehemently critical of the world around her without also possessing a vicious inner voice. She'd always made it seem like she didn't care what others thought of her, but she clearly did. Back at school, Draco hadn't paid much attention to her reactions to his bullying, as his taunts toward her had been more focused on getting Potter riled up, but they'd been landing.

It was the same for Draco, anytime someone called him evil or a wannabe murderer. In this way, he and Granger were the same. They put on a good show, but the insults cut deep and stayed with them permanently, manifesting later in their own voices, constantly telling them they weren't enough.

And his comments about Weasley, well, that had been a lucky guess, based on what he'd gleaned about their relationship from reading interviews they'd done together. He could tell that part of his speech in particular had cut deep.

Granger blinked quickly and turned back to the desk. He was waiting for her to fight back but all she did was grab two stacks of parchment from the top of her pile. "Here," she said, her voice shaking. "These are the drafts for the changes we just discussed. You can review them on your own time. I'll await your comments by owl."

She gathered her things and left. She didn't even have enough fight left in her to slam the door behind her. Fuck, he'd broken Granger. He'd taken this force of a witch, found her weaknesses, and exploited them. This is what he'd meant to do; show her who was in power. This was what his father would have done. But what would Lucius have done when he saw the look on her face at the end?

Smile, probably. Pat himself on the back. All Draco wanted to do was throw up. He lowered himself in a chair and dropped his head in his hands.

Granger was somewhere crying right now, he was sure of it. And he'd wanted that, right? He didn't care about making Granger cry, he'd probably done it loads of times in school. But he wasn't that boy, anymore. And he wasn't his father. He didn't know who he was, exactly, but he knew saying all that had been a mistake and that if he could take it back, he would.

Present Time: April 2005 / Draco's Time: July 2000

Draco's next trip to the future was supposed to be late at night, so he didn't even bother going to bed, as he didn't want to time jump in his sleep. He was lying on his stomach on his bed, reading a novel for the first time in ages. He was having trouble focusing, however, and kept looking up at the stack of parchment Granger had given him. It felt like the drafts were mocking him.

It had been a week since Draco had torn Granger apart with his words and he hadn't heard from her since. She said she'd await his notes on these draft laws, but he couldn't bring himself to read them, knowing once he read through her words and saw the work she'd put into fixing up these arcane Pureblood laws (all in an attempt to find common ground with him), he'd feel sick for how terribly he'd treated her in return. So, he was avoiding the task altogether.

But the memory of that day still haunted him. Her sad eyes, wide and lined with tears. Her mouth closed tight, but unable to hide the slight quiver in her bottom lip. The way she'd looked at him right before she left, like he'd betrayed her. That part was the worst.

Granger hadn't expected Draco to be so harsh, which was surprising, after everything from Hogwarts. She must have thought he'd changed, maybe Potter told her he was alright, but Draco had proven them both wrong. And now he'd probably lost her trust for good.

Who cares?! So what if Granger doesn't trust you - big deal. Why is this affecting you so much?

The feeling of vertigo came over Draco and he was relieved, since that meant he didn't have to answer the difficult question his mind had asked him, though he knew it would cycle through his brain again later. For now though, he could ignore it and focus on his trip to the future.

The room was bright when Draco reappeared, sitting on the bed at the center. Great, it was the middle of the day, which meant when he returned to his time, his timing would be off and he'd be exhausted. Just one more annoyance to add to his life. He sighed and turned to find the older Draco sitting at a chair by the fire. He was reading another novel. This Draco read a lot. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Hi," the other wizard said, setting his book on the table. "It's April 27, 2005, 12:02pm." Draco took his notebook out and wrote down the information. Then, he gave the other Draco the date and time he'd just come from and watched him write it on a list. He realized a different version of that same list (one that was completely filled out), was currently stuck to the front of his notebook. He shook his head. Even though he'd been around magic his entire life, this time travel thing still amazed him.

"I'm knackered," Draco announced, falling back on the bed. "I was about to go to sleep in my time."

"I'll have Finley get you an Energy Potion." He called the elf and when Finley was gone, the other Draco crossed the room and sat on the bed next to Draco, leaning his back against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him.

Draco turned his head and was about to ask if the wedding was happening soon, as it was Spring 2005 now, when he spotted the wedding band on the man's finger. "You got married."

The other Draco smiled. "I did. Three weeks ago. We just returned from our Honeymoon on the beach, which was perfect, and now I have to spend two nights away from my lovely wife to keep you company."

Draco turned on his side and propped his head up on his hand. "You can leave me alone."

The other Draco let out a laugh. "Yeah, right. I don't trust you. I know exactly what you'd do if I left you alone."

Go straight to Daphne and coerce her into telling him who Lady Malfoy is, probably by pretending to be future Draco. Draco sighed and laid back on his back. "Just bring me to the house. What's the harm? I'm going to meet her, eventually."

"I don't want to be hexed."

"This wife of yours sounds violent."

"She is. But I'm a better dueler - though don't tell her I said that."

Draco looked back at his future self. He had a goofy smile on his face again. "So it worked out - the whole wedding drama and whatever fight was looming last Autumn when I saw you."

He nodded. "Yes. It all worked out."

Finley arrived with the Energy Potion. Draco downed it quickly and settled back on the bed. When Finley was gone again, he said to the older man, "Your other self was extremely frustrated he didn't know more about all that ahead of time, so if you want to tell me now you could avoid-"

"I'm good," he cut in. "Thanks for the offer."

Draco knew that wouldn't work, but it had been worth a try. "How was the wedding?"

"Lovely. Small, intimate, really perfect for us."

"And grey?"

He let out a laugh. "Yes, it was grey and gold and Mother survived."

Draco rolled onto his stomach and let out a long sigh. "Well, I'm glad you're in a good mood this time because I need your help. Everything's a fucking disaster in my life now with my insane workload that seems to get larger every week and I need you to tell me everything's going to be fine and shit. And if you can give me specific advice - and maybe explain how the fuck you just managed to take a few weeks off - even better."

"You'll get used to the workload. You have a team of money managers, business consultants, and Robertson, of course, who are there to help. You need to figure out how to use them more effectively instead of trying to do it all yourself. You'll get there through trial and error."

Draco hummed. That wasn't very helpful, he already knew that's how father had managed it all, with help from that group of men, but what Draco didn't know was which tasks to give to them and which ones to do himself. He guessed that's where the trial and error bit came in. Hopefully the errors he made in the future wouldn't be too bad. Based on this Draco's eerily calm demeanor, nothing catastrophic had happened.

"Do you want to talk about what's really upsetting you?"

Draco grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it. "No," he mumbled into the pillow.

The other Draco nudged Draco's side with his leg. "You shouldn't beat yourself up so much. You made a mistake. It happens."

Draco lifted his head. "I don't know why it's upsetting me so much. It's fucking Granger. She's such a judgmental bitch and needed someone to put her in her place. I just gave her what she's had coming after years of thinking she's better than everyone."

The other Draco's face had gone completely blank but Draco could tell by the way he was clenching his teeth together that he was upset. Why? Because he'd insulted Granger? "What-?" he began to ask, but was interrupted.

"She has it a lot harder than you realize," he said harshly.

"Granger?"

The other Draco exhaled sharply. He took a second breath, clearly trying to calm himself. "She has been fighting her whole life. First, she fought to fit in and prove to everyone she belonged. Then, she fought against people like the Dark Lord and Death Eaters like us, who wanted her dead. And after that, you'd think she'd want a break from it all, but she continued to fight to make the world around her - a world that was unbelievably cruel to her - better.

"And in the midst of all this fighting, she's had little to no support. Her parents don't trust her and think her magic has corrupted her, her friends try to support her, but they don't understand her. And that boyfriend of hers - well - he's just rubbish for her but she clings to him because she has an incredibly flawed view of herself, something we had a big part in creating. She thinks she won't be able to get anyone else to love her, so she should take what she can get.

"Maybe, Hermione seems rigid and self-important and like she's judging everyone, but that's just a defense mechanism. Inside she's lost and unbelievably lonely. You should cut her some slack - she's not that different from you, right now."

Draco's jaw was hanging open by the end of the other wizard's speech. When the older Draco looked over at him, his gaze was challenging. He was defending her. Vehemently defending her. Draco shook his head and replayed the other man's words. "Hang on…" he said.

"Yeah?"

"You just called her Hermione."

The other man shrugged. "So I did."

"Oh fuck," he buried his head in the pillow again. "It can't be," he groaned. When he looked back up at the older man, he was smirking. "You're friends with her, too? Are you a fucking member of the Golden Trio now?"

"We've renamed it the Golden Quad. There was an initiation ceremony and everything," he deadpanned.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You mean Golden Quint. I know exactly what's going on here. It's that fucking wife of yours. She moves in from some foreign country and immediately falls in with Potter and Granger, maybe Weasley too - wait - do you like the Weasel in this time? Are you about to go on about the plight of the poor man?"

The other Draco let out a laugh. "We tolerate each other. Don't worry, we're not friends."

"Good," Draco sighed. "Anyway, the wife forces you to be friends with these dolts and you do it, because you're a lovesick idiot by then and don't have a choice. That's it, isn't it?"

"Something like that," he said noncommittally.

"Fuck," Draco exclaimed, lying on his back again. "I hate this wife of yours. I hate Granger. I hate all of them."

They were quiet for a while, then the other Draco nudged his side again. "You know what you need to do," he said softly.

"I know," he groaned, tossing an arm over his face. He needed to apologize to Granger, but after the difficulty he'd had with his apology to Theo, he didn't think he'd be able to manage it. After a long while, he took his arm away and saw the other Draco staring out the window, lost in thought.

"What would Father say?" Draco asked carefully.

"That you're soft," he replied, keeping his gaze on something outside the window.

"And you don't care?"

"I care. Of course, I care. But -" he paused to take a deep breath "-it was a choice between living a lie and being a disappointment."

"So, you chose to be a disappointment?"

The older Draco shook his head. "I altered my expectations. I'm not disappointed anymore, maybe Father is - somewhere - but he's not here. And maybe he wouldn't be upset, maybe I'm just using his memory to project all my own insecurities. Either way, I need to focus on the people in my life now. Mother loves me either way and Lady Malfoy does too."

Draco couldn't help but smile. "Does she know you called her that?"

"Yes," he said, smiling back at him. "She got a big kick out of it."

"You make it sound so easy, 'altering expectations.'"

"It wasn't. That part was really shitty."

"Great," Draco said bitterly, "can't wait."

The other Draco jumped up out of the bed. "Enough serious talk for today. Let's go flying."

Present Time: July 2000 / Draco's Time: Same as present

At Draco's next meeting with Granger, he arrived early. He'd been pacing his room back at Malfoy Manor, glancing at the clock every few seconds, then decided to just leave for the Ministry and be nervous there. But now, as he waited in the empty office, drumming his fingers on the table, he was regretting that decision. He wished he'd thought to grab the paper or something else to read. Maybe that's why the older Draco was always reading. Maybe it calmed his mind.

"You're early," a voice said from the doorway. Draco jumped. Fuck, she'd managed to sneak up on him again. How did she always do that? Potter was right, it's not like she was especially sneaky or anything, Draco was just extremely distracted lately.

"Yes," he said lamely.

Granger was wearing black trousers today with a fitted blouse that was coral, with small white flowers on the print. The color looked good on her and if she were Daphne or Draco's mother, he would comment on it. Her hair was up but like always, several curls had escaped the confines of her bun, which was not held together by office supplies today.

Why do you always take such careful note of her appearance? Are you preparing to start up a column in the Prophet titled, 'How to Dress Like Hermione Granger?' Because I can assure you, no one would read that.

"I guess we can get started then," she continued, looking uncomfortable. He guessed it was because he was staring at her and quickly looked away from her eyes, focusing on a spot on her chin instead. She took a seat, then pulled back her shoulders and took a deep breath. "I want to say something before we start."

Draco nodded. His throat was suddenly very dry and he considered conjuring a glass of water, but decided to wait for her to say her piece first.

"I could sit here and tell you all the things I don't like about you. I could list your weakness and guess at your darkest fears and insecurities, but I'm not going to do that."

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her and remained quiet.

"I'm not going to do that because I'm not a terrible person who needs to cut others down to feel better about myself."

Draco rolled his eyes. Merlin, she was so self-righteous.

"Anyway, we clearly got off on the wrong foot, but I propose we just put it behind us and work on getting these laws approved. I appreciate your notes, by the way, they were very thorough."

She pulled two stacks of parchment off her pile of books and papers and Draco recognized the draft laws he'd reviewed last weekend. He had spent hours on each one, trying to assuage his guilt and also show Granger that he wasn't completely useless when it came to legislation, since she'd made a dig about that in their first meeting.

She pointed at one of his notes and opened her mouth to speak, but Draco interrupted her. "I have something to say before we start."

"Oh. You do?" She faltered slightly and he watched her mask of indifference slip, then he watched her carefully reconstruct it. She crossed her arms and turned to face him, her expression impassive again. "Okay. Go ahead."

"I shouldn't have said everything I did to you. It was unnecessarily rude."

Her brown eyes widened slightly. "Yes, it was. Thank you. Now-"

"I'm not finished. Can you sit quietly for longer than five seconds?"

Granger glared at him but Draco ignored her. He was bracing himself for this next part. He dropped her gaze, then took a deep breath. "Okay," he began. "I also wanted to tell you-" The next words caught in his throat. He reconsidered the water. Why his throat so dry?

She leaned in, as if encouraging him to continue, but didn't say anything.

'I'm sorry.' Just say it. You said it to Theo, you can say it to her. Just two words.

But when Draco spoke again, a lot more than two words came stumbling out. "It wasn't about you. It was about me. I put some details in there to make it sound like it was about you, but it's me who feels…all those things. Lost, misunderstood, like I'm not enough. I had a hunch you might feel the same and was just trying to rattle you."

Holy fuck. What the fuck was going on? He hadn't planned to say any of that. But something about the way she was looking at him, her eyes wide and questioning, it was like taking a dose of Veritaserum. And now one of his darkest truths was out there. What she was going to do with it? He dropped her gaze and tried to clear his mind.

Granger was quiet and uncharacteristically still. Draco didn't look up at her and continued to focus on his hands.

"Everything you said was about you?" she asked after another minute of silence.

He nodded, keeping his eyes down.

When she didn't say anything for another several moments, he chanced a look up at her. "That makes sense," she said when their eyes met, "since it didn't apply to me at all." Her lips twitched slightly and he wondered if she was teasing.

"Right, of course," he said carefully.

She let out a breath of a laugh and shook her head. "Though there was one thing you were right about."

"What?" he asked.

"I don't know you."

That makes two of us.

A heavy silence settled between them. It was almost suffocating and if Draco hadn't been completely wrapped up in her searching gaze, he would have grabbed his wand and opened the door, but he was frozen in place. Then, before he could question what he was doing, he smiled (a real smile, which he was pretty sure he'd never done in front of her) and held his hand out for her to shake. "In that case, allow me to introduce myself. Draco Malfoy."

She tightened her arms around herself and stared at his hand for a long time before moving her eyes back up to meet his. Her gaze was so piercing it almost hurt but he didn't look away. She seemed to be searching for the solution to a very complicated puzzle in Draco and a deep, unfamiliar part of him was eager to answer her question.

"What are you doing? Is this a trick? Are you trying to manipulate me?"

"No," he answered honestly. He had no idea what he was doing. He hadn't meant to be this vulnerable with her, but it was like he was under the Imperius Curse and some other force was controlling his actions.

His arm began to hurt and he wondered if he should drop it, but something told him to keep it there. That force, whatever it was, told him to be patient.

"Fine," she muttered eventually, then smiled. It was a small smile, more present in her eyes than on her lips, but it was genuine. An unexpected wave of triumph passed through him but before he could question it, she distracted him by taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you, Draco Malfoy. I'm Hermione Granger."

A/N: Continued thanks to my beta, Lancashire Witch. This is our seventh story together! Crazy. Also thanks to Lang Leav - I know she's not reading, but still, I want to get it out into the universe. Her writing is beautiful and some of her poems feel like they were written specifically for this "Timeless" world; they're just so perfect.

I hope you all liked the Draco/Hermione interactions. I like how in this story Draco doesn't know Hermione is his wife right away. And he's getting huge hints from the future - but doesn't even consider it a possibility. It'll be fun when he finds out, promise. Anyway, thanks for reading!