Chapter 11
You won't believe what I see from this vantage point, the years stretching out before you like a long winding road. I don't want to scare you, but there is a forest just up ahead. One so dense and dark, the sunlight won't reach you for awhile. You will wander lost, in this long, perilous night, not knowing if it will ever come to an end. But believe me, the light will find you again, and when it does, you will no longer be afraid of the dark.
-Lang Leav
Present Time: November 2000 / Draco's Time: Same as present
Draco didn't see Hermione again until two weeks after the party (yes, he was calling her Hermione now, but he hadn't decided if he'd say it to her face, yet). He'd had to miss their Friday meeting a few days after the party because of his trip to the past and then Hermione was at a conference in Scotland the following week.
To Draco's dismay, he was forced to suffer through a meeting with her boyfriend while she was away. Weasley showed up with Potter during his monthly check-in at Malfoy Manor to verify Draco wasn't stowing any Muggles in his dungeons, brewing poisons, or breeding flesh-eating monsters in the forest outside.
When Draco had asked what Weasley was doing there, he was met with an angry glare from Weasley and an almost apologetic shrug from Potter. Draco had been anticipating a stern talking to from Weasley, but he stayed quiet, seemingly content to just glare at Draco, while rudely sitting on the arm of a sofa which was more expensive than his family's entire house.
Because Draco was a glutton for pain, and wanted to hear about Hermione, he said in the middle of the meeting, "You look like you want to say something, Weasley."
"He doesn't," Potter began to say while Weasley said, "Yes, I do." He stood up from the arm he'd been sitting on and Draco was relieved, since the sofa was a rare antique and his mother would be devastated if Weasley broke it.
"I don't know what's going on with you and Hermione. She says it's just work and that you're halfway decent now, but she's been more on edge and distant since she started 'working' with you." He gestured with quotation marks around the word "working" which gave Draco a burst of pride. Was it more for her too?
"Have you considered it might just be the new job stressing her out?" Draco drawled.
Weasley ignored him. "I'm not convinced you're completely reformed. I don't know what you're playing at, having your friends infiltrate her life, taking her out for ice cream, then tricking her into coming here, of all places!" He paused to gesture around the room.
Draco's stomach turned. They weren't in the drawing room, Draco would never meet with them in there, but Weasley's meaning was clear. Visions of Hermione crying in the drawing room the night of the ball had been cycling through his mind almost as frequently as the memory of her torture and for some reason, the former hurt Draco just as much as the latter.
"I didn't invite her nor did I encourage her to visit the drawing room," Draco said in a low voice. "Is she okay? Did she-"
"That's none of your fucking business!" Weasley spat. Potter put a hand on his arm and he shook it off, but did pause to take a calming breath. "Whatever. I know she has to work with you for the remainder of this rotation. I'm just counting down the months until she's done. Then, she can move on and you'll be in her past again - where you belong."
Draco tried to hide the surprise he was feeling from flashing across his face. Rotation? And there were only a few months left? Why hadn't she mentioned that?
Because you're nobody to her and she owes you nothing.
Potter grabbed a Dark Object detector out of his bag and handed it to Weasley. "Why don't you go scan the house while I finish up Malfoy's interview?"
Weasley glared at Draco for a few more moments then, when it was clear Draco wasn't going to say anything, he grabbed the detector and marched out of the room.
"Finley," Draco called once Weasley was out of sight.
The elf appeared with a small pop in front of Draco. "Weasley will be doing a scan of the house. Follow him and tell me if he causes any trouble. Also, warn Mother so she's not surprised."
"Yes, sir," the elf squeaked before popping out of sight.
"Ron's not going to cause trouble," Potter muttered. "He has a temper, but he knows better than to let it interfere with his work."
"Sure," Draco replied sarcastically. He was still upset about what Weasley had said about Hermione, leaving him very little patience for Potter. How soon until she moved on to some other job? And how was she doing? Why couldn't Weasley have answered that question?
"Malfoy?" Potter's voice cut into his thoughts. He'd said something but Draco hadn't been paying attention.
"I didn't hear the question."
Potter nodded and dropped the notebook he was holding onto his lap. "She's fine," he said kindly, accurately (and embarrassingly) guessing at the source of Draco's distress. "She was shaken after visiting here but it was nothing a long night's sleep didn't cure. I think she slept all the way until eleven the next day."
"Eleven? On a work day?" That didn't sound like Hermione at all.
"Ron turned off her wand alarm. He nearly lost an arm for doing it, but it was good for her. She's been working too much."
"Right, whatever," Draco replied, trying to put on an air of indifference, though Potter wasn't buying it. Luckily, he moved past the topic of Hermione and picked his notebook up again, probably as eager as Draco to end the meeting.
"So, the time travel is done?"
"I've completed all the jumps on my list and am brewing the Extraction Potion now."
"Okay." Potter jotted down a few words in his notebook. "And how about any upcoming trips?"
The meeting was uneventful after that. When Weasley returned from his scan of the house, Draco had Finley walk them out as he continued to puzzle over what Weasley had said about Hermione's rotation. He thought he'd be working with her for years. Why hadn't she told him it was temporary? Would he be able to strike up a real friendship with her before he ran out of time?
He hadn't forgotten that speech future Draco had given about her. In 2005, he'd know her very well. All Draco had to do was focus on getting as close as he could to her in the remaining time he had and try not to stress about it too much. It would work out.
Draco was currently sitting in the empty office they used at the Ministry, waiting for Hermione to arrive. He checked his watch. She was five minutes late, again. And she'd slept until eleven o'clock a few weeks ago, which was a sign that she was exhausted, and that was before her trip. She'd been excited about attending the legislators' conference in Scotland this year, but being away from the office for a week probably wasn't what she needed right now.
Sure enough, when Hermione arrived, she looked ragged. She was using quills to keep her hair up again, there were bags under her eyes, and her blouse was messy - with one sleeve pushed up to her elbow and the other hanging loose, missing the button on the cuff.
"Her - uh - Granger," Draco started, changing his mind at the last minute about using her given name. She was distracted and hadn't noticed his stumble.
"I'm sorry to do this," she said in a rush as she stayed standing by the door. "I meant to send an owl before you came all the way out here to tell you I don't have time for this today." Draco noticed then that she wasn't carrying her usual pile of papers.
"What?"
"I have to cancel."
Draco raised his eyebrows and said dramatically, "But I came all the way from Wiltshire. I Apparated to the Ministry entrance, walked across the lobby, then took the lift down. It took me a full six minutes and you're saying that was for nothing?"
She let out a laugh and Draco was glad to see it. "I'm sorry you had to go through so much trouble," she said with a small smile, but it was gone the next moment. She leaned against the wall and seemed to deflate slightly.
"I don't have anything for you to review today," she admitted in the same way he'd expect someone to admit to a crime. "I'm behind on my new drafts and haven't met with the Creature or Ministry Worker representatives to get feedback on the laws we were working on a few weeks ago. Not to mention-"
"Why do you write all the drafts?" Draco asked, cutting her off. "Your job is to work with the representatives from every faction to get buyoff and make edits to the laws as needed. But you shouldn't be writing them. That's a job for the other members of your department."
"I know that. But Gladys has been out caring for a sick grandson and they still haven't backfilled my old role, so the department is down two people right now and if I don't fill in there will be no more new laws going to the Elders for the rest of the year!"
"Is that so bad?"
The look of horror on her face almost made him laugh, but he knew better than to do so. "Of course it is," he added in a rush. "I was joking, obviously. Why don't I help, since I came all the way over here? I can write drafts. They won't be as perfect as yours, of course, but you can fix them up later. Editing will certainly be much easier than writing from scratch."
Hermione was looking at him like he'd grown an extra head. When she didn't say anything for several more seconds, he waved a hand in the air. "Uh, Granger? Do you want my help?"
"You would do that?"
Draco shrugged, trying not to show the hurt caused by her utter surprise at his offer to help. "I won't touch that ridiculous amendment to the house elf rights you proposed last month, nor the trade agreement your idiotic International rep was floating around, but I can do the one to add love potions to the list of restricted substances and the update to benefits for those injured in the war."
"You can?"
"Yes, Granger." He was losing patience now. He wasn't that bad. He could be nice. Why was she so surprised?
"That would be perfect, Malfoy. Let me get my things."
She turned around and fumbled with the door for a few seconds before Draco said, "You need to pull it."
She shook her head, then pulled the door open and nearly ran down the hall. Fuck, she was a mess. Draco was already considering what else he could do for her. Hell, he'd write the damn house elf law if it pulled her out of this alarmingly uncharacteristic state of disarray. He'd add a clause demanding all Purebloods hand over half their vaults to the damned creatures if it would help her. That's how bad he had it.
"Okay, here you go," she said when she returned, launching right in on a review of all the notes and summaries she'd written about the laws he'd agree to work on. "And make sure you keep the statement of intent-"
"-concise, not more than two paragraphs. I know."
"And you need to write in the-"
"-present tense, with an active voice," he finished for her again. "I know, Granger."
"And make sure to avoid-"
"-ambiguous language and long, drawn-out sentences. I've read hundreds of these over the past several months. I know what I'm doing."
"Okay, right," she sighed, nearly out of breath from all the running around and talking she'd been doing.
Draco wanted to grab her hand and squeeze it for comfort but guessed that might just stress her out more. Instead, he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look until she eventually focused back on her pile and began scratching her quill across one of the papers on top.
Draco focused on the pile of notes she'd handed him. As he worked, he could almost feel the stress radiating off of her. It was making him stressed, too. Or maybe he was just stressed because he'd been planning to ask about her rotation, but didn't know how to word it without coming off as nosy or desperate. He decided to just come out and say it, since he wasn't going to be able to do anything useful until he got it off his chest.
"I heard this is a temporary assignment for you."
"Yeah," she said distractedly, keeping her eyes down on her parchment. "I'll be here for a year, then work in Kingsley's office for another year or two, then rotate around to all the different areas of the Ministry in 12-18 month assignments over the next five to ten years."
"Why?"
Draco was exhausted just listening to that plan. It had taken him a solid three months to get the hang of this new role and another three months to finally feel like he was doing okay. He couldn't imagine having to move around so much. She'd never get time to master the position she was in. Though what took other people several months to learn, likely took Hermione several weeks. Still, it sounded like a lot, even for her.
Hermione bit her lip, then shifted in her chair slightly. "I think I want to be the Minister for Magic, one day," she said quietly, like she was ashamed by the admission. "Not soon, but in, like, twenty years, once Kingsley's ready to step down."
"Oh," Draco replied, caught off guard. Minister for Magic? That was huge.
"Do you think it's...too much?" she asked, looking down at her hands and picking at her nails.
"Too much? What do you mean? Too difficult an achievement for you? Too much of a job? No, to both of those. It'll be hard, for sure, since we've never had a Muggleborn Minister for Magic, nor a witch, right?"
She nodded, still looking down at her hands. He wanted so badly to grab them, but held back. "It'll be hard and if you tried it now (if you were older, of course), you'd lose. But in twenty years, I could see people electing a Muggleborn witch. And as far as the job being too big for you, well, I'm not sure that job exists with your work ethic."
Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide and entreating. "You really think all that?"
"Yeah. I do. Why, don't you?" He didn't add that if she didn't develop more confidence about it, she didn't stand a chance in a general election. It wasn't worth pointing out now, since her campaign was over twenty years away.
She continued to chew on her lip and play with her nails. "I wonder if maybe, it's too much of a dream. I want a family one day but I also want to make a difference, to do all I can to influence change in the world and I could certainly do that as Minister for Magic. But maybe, I can't do both. Kingsley doesn't have a family, he's always on call...I don't know. It's not even my dream. It was Kingsley's idea and it might just be, I don't know...too much, you know?"
He could tell these weren't her words. Maybe it hadn't been her idea to run for Minister for Magic one day, but now that the idea was in her head, she wanted it. But someone had told her she couldn't do it, or maybe that she shouldn't, for the sake of some future family, and it wasn't hard to guess who.
"I don't think it's too much," Draco declared. "You'll have to learn to delegate and surround yourself with people you can trust, but you can do that and manage a family, if that's what you really want. Who told you otherwise?"
"No one," she said quickly, but he knew she was lying. She returned to her parchment, pointedly avoiding his gaze. "We're supposed to be working."
Draco exhaled heavily. He was remembering Fitzgerald who also wanted that job. He was a self-serving git but he was clever, conniving, and had the confidence Hermione was lacking. If she went against him anytime soon, she'd be crushed. Which was a fucking shame because in every other way, she was a hundred time better than the man. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to have people in her life telling her so. Or at least not any people she was listening to.
He thought of future Draco's words again. "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. She thinks she won't be able to get anyone else to love her, so she should take what she can get."
Fucking Weasley was holding her back. Weasley was better for her than Draco, that much he'd come to terms with, but that didn't make him good enough for a witch as incredible as Hermione.
"I want to say one more thing," Draco announced, before he could change his mind. "Then, I promise we'll work."
She let out an exasperated sigh before looking up from the parchment. "Fine. Make it quick."
"Did I ever tell you what I thought when I first heard about my future wife?'
"No." She put her quill down. Well, he had her attention. Here goes nothing.
"I don't think I believe in soulmates or anything, but I believe there's a person out there I'm supposed to be with. And sometimes, it's like I've been searching for her for years. In that first jump, I met my future self and he was so...at ease. He didn't seem like someone who was running down a hill trying desperately not to fall over, which is what I feel like all the time. He had his shit together.
"Then I learned that he attributed it to his wife. Like I've said, I thought I was going mad, at first, merely inventing this confident version of myself who was married to an amazing witch to make myself feel better. But once I finally came to terms with the truth and I considered this mystery woman I thought, 'I managed to find someone who'll put up with me? Wow.'"
Hermione let out a small laugh.
"Then I thought, 'This woman - there's no way it's Astoria. And in that moment, I knew I had to break up with her." Draco decided to leave out the part about how he'd been too much of a coward to go through with it and had to wait for a future version of himself to travel back and take care of the task.
"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked, shaking her head.
Draco took a breath before continuing. This was the risky part. "Imagine you travelled to the future, say, five years, and you met yourself. And the future you was content and calm and more self-confident. She was comfortable in chaos and stressful situations because she knew herself and what she was doing in the world."
Hermione was staring at him with her mouth hanging open slightly. She was completely captivated and he guessed in her mind, she was imagining that ideal version of herself.
"When you talk to this woman, she gushes about her husband and you begin to suspect he's behind this change in her demeanor. You push her for details and she won't give anything away but you can't let it go. When you return to your time, you think about this unknown man constantly, the one who will help you believe in yourself, who will be your equal, your partner."
Draco leaned forward, over the table. "Now tell me something, Hermione. Is it Weasley?"
She was looking at him like he had more than one head again, then her expression darkened. "How about you tell me something, Draco," she said in a scathing tone. "Where do you get off?"
"I wasn't trying to - I just-" Draco was floundering. He hadn't planned what he'd say at this point in the conversation. Hermione stood up and started gathering her papers back into a pile.
"Don't go. Just hear-"
"No!" she cried, her eyes alight with anger. "You're not allowed to do this! You're not allowed to come into my life and be - be - not nice, that's not the right word but...genuine. Flawed and sad and broken but also kind and sharp and witty and, and someone who's trying - trying so damn hard. And it's not fair. I was doing fine and I didn't need this."
"Need what?" Draco had never heard her speak so incoherently before.
"This - this - complication!" she cried, waving her hands around forcefully as she spoke. "You don't get to do this! You don't get to change my mind! You don't get to sit there with your perfectly tailored clothes, your neat yet simultaneously tousled hair, and your knowing, unfathomable eyes and make assessments (completely untrue assessments, by the way) about my life!
"You don't get to offer to help me when I really need it or notice when I'm having a bad day. You don't get to take me on birthday outings, give me gigantic apologies, or teach me how to dance. And you definitely don't get to say things about me and Ron! No! I won't stand for it!"
"Granger. Wait, I -" Before he could finish his sentence, she was gone, slamming the door behind her.
Draco leaned back in his chair. Whoa. Her reaction was much more extreme than he'd been expecting. He'd never seen her so flustered. At first, he thought it was because he'd caught her on a bad day, but no, there was more. He wasn't stupid, he knew what had caused that. She liked him.
Or, more likely, she was attracted to him and concurrently disgusted by the feeling. That would explain the outburst. He leaned forward and dropped his head in his hands. Fuck. This wasn't what he wanted.
Well, no, of course he wanted her to like him back, but at the same time, he didn't want to mess with her life. He'd already done way too much of that. But the thought of her with anyone else (even a wizard way better than Weasley, who actually deserved her) made Draco want to vomit.
What the fuck are you doing?
"I don't know," Draco groaned.
I told you to leave her alone. I told you you'd hurt her.
"I know."
And now he was talking to himself. Bloody hell.
He used Occlumency to clear his mind and it took him almost thirty minutes to get it to the state where he could sit and focus on Hermione's notes, which she'd left behind. He half expected her to come back for them, then hex him, for good measure, but she left him alone.
Draco grabbed the quill and ink bottle she'd set out for him earlier and began writing. He didn't stop until four hours later, when he'd finished both of the drafts he'd promised to help her with. He stacked them into two piles and arranged them neatly on the center of the table before heading home.
During his six minute commute, he kept hoping to hear her call his name, or just to catch a glimpse of her, but he didn't see or hear her and no one looked twice at him, on his way out.
The following Saturday, Draco was with Daphne, getting measured for new robes, when he heard someone mutter, "Look who it is."
That part wasn't out of the ordinary. He was well-known in their world and people were constantly nudging their companion when they saw him and whispering behind his back. It was the next sound that made him turn so quickly, he was pricked by one of Madam Malkin's needles.
"Oh," said a second voice and Draco recognized it instantly. He turned to find Hermione with Ginny Weasley, looking through a rack of black and grey robes.
Her eyes darted around, like she was trying to find an escape route, then she slouched slightly when she realized she was trapped. Just then, Daphne, who'd been looking at robes at the other end of the store, noticed the pair.
"Oh, hello, Hermione! What are you doing here, so early on a Saturday? What am I doing here so early on a Saturday? Why is anyone out at this hour, really?"
"Just what I was saying," Weasley mumbled to Hermione as the two witches walked over to Daphne. They all met in the middle, just a few feet behind Draco. Draco kept trying to look behind him but Madam Malkin kept pulling him forward. "Stay still," she mumbled with several pins in her mouth. Draco resigned to watch the witches behind him through the mirror.
"Draco made me come out at this ridiculous hour, insisting no one would be here," Daphne explained.
"Hermione said the same thing," Weasley said, looking over at Draco. Draco tried to catch Hermione's eyes in the mirror but she was pointedly avoiding him.
He'd apologized to her the day before and agreed never to bring up her boyfriend again. She'd forgiven him surprisingly quickly. He realized it was because she desperately needed his help with work and could tell she hadn't really let it go. She was tense during their whole meeting and refused to discuss anything unrelated to the laws in front of them.
"They're surprisingly similar," Daphne replied.
"That's a terrifying thought," said Weasley.
"We are not," Hermione countered.
"Either way, I'd like to meet the new and improved Malfoy." Weasley was studying him in the mirror again and he watched her walk over until she was standing in his line of sight.
"Hello, Malfoy," she said with a wave. "We've never properly met. I'm Ginny Weasley, the person your father tried to kill, the youngest member of the family you insulted for years, the girlfriend of the wizard who saved your arse a few months back, and the best friend of the witch who -" she cut off and looked toward Hermione, who was still behind Draco, avoiding his eyes. "I don't know how to explain that one."
"I get it, Weasley," he said sharply. "Nice to meet you." He held out his left hand and she reached over Madam Malkin, who seemed completely unphased by this odd interchange, to take it.
"What about me?" Daphne chimed in. "Daphne Greengrass. Do I get one of those little descriptions?"
Weasley shrugged and turned toward her. "Sure. I'd say you're the reason my best friend spent weeks stressing over what to wear to a ball for the first time in her life, instead of simply picking the first dress that fit her, like she usually does. You broke her, congratulations."
"That was for me?" Daphne asked Hermione.
"Yes," she grumbled. "Now, will you stop being so cross with me?"
Daphne crossed her arms. "You're the reason Blaise and I aren't talking."
"I gave you advice. You didn't have to take it. And I never guaranteed things would work out with you two, but that if you were serious about him, it would never work if he didn't respect you. You need to show him you're worth-"
"Yeah, yeah," Daphne cut in, waving her off. "I remember the lecture."
Draco had heard a little bit about this, but not all the details. Apparently, the reason Daphne had been crying on the roof after the Halloween Ball was because she'd finally worked up the courage to give Blaise an ultimatum. She'd said if they were going to be together, it had to be just her, no other witches. Blaise had taken it in stride and let Daphne go and returned to his date, which broke her heart, obviously, and now they couldn't be in the same room together.
As Hermione and Daphne caught up, Weasley watched Draco in the mirror. He did his best to pretend like he was unaffected by her careful scrutiny but he was dying to know what she was thinking.
Was she interested in him because of Hermione? Why had she said their relationship was too hard to explain? Could she tell that he liked her? Did she think maybe Hermione liked him? Or maybe she was looking at him because of all those claims he'd made about her future.
Hermione and Weasley left the shop a few moments later. Draco turned, taking another pin in the leg, to say goodbye to Hermione, but she was halfway out of the shop by then. "I was meaning to ask you this earlier," Daphne said as she rejoined him. "What happened between you two?"
"What did she say?" Draco asked as Madam Malkin pulled him forward again.
"Nothing," she replied, ",which is weird. Usually when we're shopping, she'll tell me what you two are working on or something stupid you said. But when I asked about you a few days ago, she just pursed her lips and refused to talk until I changed the subject."
Draco shrugged. "I told her her boyfriend was wrong for her, but in a nice way."
"Oh. Is that it? I tell her Weasley's rubbish for her all the time."
"You do? And she doesn't bite your head off?"
"She gets annoyed but just ignores it."
Draco turned his head to look at Daphne, who was staring blankly into the mirror. "Then why did she flip out on me?"
She looked over at Draco and smiled, then leaned forward and patted his cheek. "Oh, Draco. So smart, but also so thick."
Draco rolled his eyes. He guessed she'd figured out, like he had, that Hermione was attracted to him. And she'd probably known for months (even before he figured it out) that Draco liked her. But there wasn't anything to be done for it, she must know that. Draco and Hermione were even more doomed to be together than Daphne and Blaise.
By the end of the following week, Draco and Hermione were mostly back to normal. It probably helped that Draco had spent the entire weekend working on drafts and edits and notes for countless pieces of legislation to help Hermione catch up at work. When they met on Tuesday, she'd looked so grateful he thought for a second she was going to hug him. She didn't, unfortunately.
Now, it was Thursday, halfway through their meeting, and Draco was drumming his fingers on the table as he read. "You seem distracted," she said from across the table.
He took it as a good sign that she'd noticed. The week before, she'd been far too stressed to notice any of the things going on around her and had even been hit in the head three times by an interoffice memo before she took note (though that might have been due in part to her large hair).
"I'm, uh, it's a long story."
She looked up, then leaned back in her chair. "Tell me. Please. I wouldn't mind a break from this."
Draco sighed before saying, "It's my father's birthday, tomorrow."
"Oh."
"Yeah, but there's more. When I first went to the future the other Draco I met gave me a letter. It was sealed and he said it would open on my father's birthday. He said it would help me with a big decision I was trying to make."
"Oh," she repeated. "That makes sense."
"It does?"
She nodded and said tentatively, "I assume he's referring to the time travel. You're taking the Potion in a few days, right?"
Draco nodded. "It would have been earlier but I botched the first batch. It was a surprisingly difficult potion. No Brain Elixir, but still."
She let out a laugh. "I know, Brain Elixir is the worst! Have you tried to brew it yet with that trick I mentioned?"
Draco nodded. "Worked like a charm, thanks."
A few weeks ago, the topic of Brain Elixir had come up and apparently Hermione actually knew how to brew it. There was a trick to the mixing step (the part of the brewing that continued to stump Draco) but it was something that wasn't mentioned in any texts - a fact that annoyed Hermione to no end.
"All the texts tell you to mix in a figure eight pattern fast enough to create two whirlpools in the cauldron," she'd told him. "But it's so much easier to just mix with two spoons. You get one going really fast on one side of the cauldron, then set it to keep mixing alone with your wand. Then take another spoon and mix in the opposite direction to make a whirlpool at the other end of the cauldron. Once they're both going, count to fifteen, then vanish both spoons, which is the quickest way to stop the spinning without splashing everywhere."
"Wow," Draco had whispered as he pictured what she was saying. "That's really clever. And it works? You've successfully brewed Brain Elixir?"
She'd shrugged and said simply, "I have."
"Wow," he'd repeated, which had caused her to blush further and rush to change the subject. She was so cute.
Draco focused back on the present and on what Hermione was saying.
"Anyway. The, uh, letter. You're going to read it tomorrow?"
"Tonight," he corrected. "Right at midnight." He'd put it in the drawer of his father's desk months ago and hadn't looked at it since. "But what were you saying before? What decision do I have to make?"
"Oh," she dropped her eyes. "I might be overstepping."
"Go ahead," he said. "I overstepped last week so it's only fair you get a chance to do the same."
"How is that not talking about it ever again?" she asked harshly, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. She shifted in her chair, then leaned toward him. "Okay, I've been researching time travel ever since you told me about it. It's just so interesting," he added, slightly embarrassed.
Draco nodded for her to continue.
"I was focused on how you switched places with yourself," she continued, "since that was the part I found most fascinating and I got to thinking, what if you didn't stop the time travel this year like you're supposed to?"
"What?" Draco had never considered not stopping it. He was supposed to stop it, that's what happened.
"Hear me out," she said, speaking eagerly now. "All these time jumps to the future where you saw your other self would be different. You'd just end up in the middle of his life and he'd be in the past. There's no way things like your wife or job would be hidden from you and who knows what sort of trouble future Draco would get up to in the past? Also - since you wouldn't have an effective way to communicate with yourself across time, you probably wouldn't know when you were time jumping, at least not in the beginning."
"Yeah," Draco said absently as his mind raced through the possibilities.
"There's more." He waved for her to continue but she hesitated slightly. "Go on," he insisted.
"Well, then I started thinking about your first time jump, the one with the accident. If you switched with your future self-"
"-then he could come back and help my father," Draco finished for her.
She nodded. "Or, maybe, he wouldn't be able to help. Maybe, he'd die alongside your father or die in his place. In that case, only the future version of you would be dead. You'd return to your time with a dead father and perhaps a familiar-looking dead body - or maybe he'd go back to his time and die there. At that point, I imagine you'd choose to end the time loop, so you wouldn't time jump to your death. There's a possibility you've already been in that timeline - perhaps multiple times - and chosen to end it, then been forced onto this timeline."
Draco's head was spinning. Fuck, this was so complicated.
"Or, I could be completely off base," she finished. "But, well, it's not inevitable - this decision to stop the time jumping. If you did something different, it would certainly break this timeline we're living in, but that doesn't mean you can't choose another way."
"A way where I can save my father?" He was staring at her with wide and pleading eyes and he could tell he was making her uncomfortable, but he couldn't look away. She was the only thing anchoring him to sanity, right now.
Another way. Potter's words from months ago echoed in his mind.
"There's this path to happiness with all the people you love on it and you convince yourself that's the only way to get there. But it's not. The path with them was the preferred one, of course, but it's not the only one. There's another way."
"Um, Draco? Are you okay?" He followed the sound of Hermione's voice back to reality.
"Yeah," he said, his voice hoarse. "There was this thing Potter told me, about how you want your life to go a certain way and think that's your one shot at happiness. And for me, that was the life with my father still alive. Still there to take care of my mother, still around to teach me how to run the estate, still here just - helping with all the work, giving me a second to breathe. But Potter said there are other ways you can find happiness."
Draco didn't know if he was making any sense, but she was nodding along anyway. "I know the speech," she said. "I'm the one who gave it to Harry in the first place."
"Oh," he replied with a laugh. "Of course it was you. It sounded far too eloquent for Potter."
She gave him a small smile.
"Anyway, by now, I've committed myself to the alternative. The 'other way.' I never considered I could get the shot at the ideal plan. Maybe, I can get it back."
"Maybe this is the ideal timeline," she countered. "You could die on the other one. It can be very dangerous to mess with time."
"Or I could spend six years preparing for the accident and save both me and my father when I time-jumped to the past. Would that work?"
"I have no idea."
"What would you do?"
She faltered, then leaned back in her chair and thought for several moments. "I'd read the letter," she announced. "You said you liked your future self, that he was a better version of you. If I were you, I'd trust him. He knows more and has more perspective. But that's just me."
Draco frowned. That was a lot of trust to put in himself. He didn't think he'd ever trusted himself like that before. But this was a better version of him, like Hermione had said. Could he trust him?
Hermione leaned forward again. "I didn't mean to upset you. I honestly didn't realize you hadn't thought of all the alternatives."
Draco grabbed her hand. "Thank you, really." When Hermione looked down at their clasped hands, he pulled his away before continuing. "I hate the feeling that I have no free will but you keep reminding me that's not the case. I never considered that I had a choice in this."
She took his hand again and gave it a comforting squeeze. "You always have a choice." She dropped her eyes to their hands and began running her fingers along his palm, sending chills down his spine. "Promise me something?" she asked softly.
"Yeah?"
"If you choose to break the timeline and not take the Extraction Potion, can you - uh - say goodbye?"
When she looked back up at him, the expression in her eyes, a mixture of embarrassment at having asked the question and appeal for him to agree to her small request, broke his heart. He realized what she was saying. If he broke this timeline and his father lived, he'd be in this role, not Draco. In that new world, Draco would never befriend Hermione.
"I don't know if it's possible," she continued, rushing through her words now. "The timeline might break the second you make the decision but, uh, if you can, you know-"
"Of course," he said.
She smiled. "Yeah?"
He looked down at their hands again where her fingertips were resting on his palm. He grazed his own fingertips along the inside of her hand, then gave it a final squeeze before finally pulling it back, not wanting to push his luck any further and scare her away. "I guess we should get back to work."
"Yeah, we should," she agreed. Though for the first time, she sounded disappointed about returning to work.
Later that night, Draco was staring at the blue wax seal of the envelope he'd received during his first time jump, waiting for the clock to chime at the top of the hour. He was trying to keep his mind blank, clear of all thoughts of his father, and Hermione, and alternate realities. He'd decided to take Hermione's advice and read the letter, then do what it said.
When the clock in the hall chimed at midnight, he expected something to happen. But the letter looked the same. He picked it up and slipped the seal open easily with his finger, taking a moment to marvel inwardly at the cleverness of Lady Malfoy and her ingenious spellwork.
He took out the letter and took a deep breath before reading.
Draco,
I know you're about to end the time jumping and have recently begun to consider an alternative, where you keep it going so you can try to save Father. I urge you to push those thoughts away and stick to the current timeline.
I could beg and try to give reason after reason, but I've never been the best with words. So, I'll give you my wife's words instead. I've written out a sample of the countless, beautiful things she'll say to you one day - this incredible, perfect witch. But if you break the timeline, you'll never get to hear them.
"You told me once you felt like you'd been looking for someone for years. Well, I've been looking for someone, too. You. I can see even now you're rejecting the thought, but I mean it, Draco.
"Yes, even with your sarcasm, your dark moods, your nightmares, your unrelenting guilt. With your arrogance, your flawed political opinions, and terrible upbringing. Your complete lack of self-worth and constant fear that you're doing it all wrong. Even with all that, you're the person I've been looking for."
After she said that, I tried to push her away, convinced I could never make her happy. Well, first, I kissed her, then I tried to push her away. But after I experienced what kissing her felt like, it was a lost cause. And she had more to say, of course, this witch never shuts up.
"Sounds like Hermione," Draco said aloud. Then paused and re-read the previous section as the truth he'd been hiding from himself for months hit him as violently as a fast-moving train.
You told me once you felt like you'd been looking for someone for years...your flawed political opinions.
"Bloody hell," he swore, then continued reading, eager to get to the end.
"Why are you trying to push me away? You need to stop punishing yourself! That's what you've been doing these past few years, punishing yourself. For the war, for how you treated me growing up,-" (Draco paused his reading to swear again), "-for living while your father died. For avoiding Azkaban. For taking the Extraction Potion. For being worse at this job than your father would have been. For being more compassionate and caring than him. For being rich and having it so much easier than others.
"And some of that is your fault and most of it isn't, but none of it means you don't get to be happy. Let yourself be happy, Draco. Let yourself be happy - with me."
For the record, she was right. She's always right. I was wrong to try to push her away but I'd only done it because I was so scared I couldn't make her happy. I can. I did. And I'll continue to do so for as long as I live. I'm finally starting to believe I'm enough for her. I'm not going to lie, getting here has been hard, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Take the potion and after that, trust your instincts. You can do this. You're stronger than you think.
-Draco from March 2006
That was the end of the letter, which was good since Draco could no longer see the words on the page through the tears in his eyes. It was Hermione. Bloody fucking hell, it was Hermione.
Even without the giant hintshe would have figured it out. These were so undeniably Hermione's words. He could almost picture her making the impassioned speeches now. But when? How? Why him? And would he really get to kiss her? He'd imagined it a thousand times, but never thought he'd get to experience it for real.
He flipped over the envelope and the action felt like déjà vu, like something he'd done a hundred times before and was meant to do again, at this exact moment. There it was, more proof, even though he didn't need it. The handwriting on the outside of the envelope was hers. He hadn't recognized it at the time, of course, and then hadn't looked at the letter for months.
Tonight, he'd pulled it out with the seal up and hadn't thought twice about checking the writing on the outside. He reached out and touched his fingers to the letters she'd write out in the future. Then, she'd spell the letter closed for him. Fuck. Hermione was Lady Malfoy.
And honestly, now that he was thinking through everything he knew about his future wife, it made perfect sense. All the clues had been there but he'd been avoiding them, rejecting the idea that he could ever end up with a witch like that.
"My wife's spellwork is impeccable." - "So she's smarter than you?" - "Yes."
"She hates this house." - "Why didn't you just explain that it was part of her duty as the lady of the estate to live here?" - "Because I prefer to keep my extremities attached to my body."
"Those wards don't work like you think." - "How do you know that?" - "I know a lot about wards."
"If it was up to the bride, you'd be getting married in a barn somewhere." - "So you...uh...don't like her?" - "We got off on the wrong foot, your fiancée and I, and are still trying to - make up for that."
"She's not from our world. You see that, right?"
"Fuck," Draco said, then picked up the letter again, reading the last few lines.
I was wrong to try to push her away but I'd only done it because I was so scared I couldn't make her happy. I can. I did.
"You better not be lying you fucking wanker. Why didn't you tell me?!" But even as he voiced the question, he knew the answer. He needed to fall for Hermione on his own. His feelings for her would have been too convoluted had he known this whole time, all mixed up with the inevitability that he'd end up marrying her one day. This way, he knew that he truly liked her, for her.
"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" he asked the empty room. No one answered, obviously, but the future Draco already had. Draco's eyes landed on the page and settled on the final words of the letter.
Take the potion and after that, trust your instincts. You can do this. You're stronger than you think.
A/N: I have a lot of thoughts for this A/N. First off, when I originally set out to write this story I was thinking, "I miss the Timeless characters and I kind of want to hang out with them again. So I'll write this super self-indulgent AU and maybe ten people will read it, but it will still be fun."
I also sort of wrote it for revenge purposes because a few of my Harmony fans had pissed me off by saying they were disgusted with writers who gave Draco and Snape happy endings and flipped between Dramione and Harmony (which is exactly what I do), so I thought, "Fuck them, no more Harmony stories for awhile!" Yep, I'm petty. Also, why are people so rude to people creating free content for them? I'll never understand.
The point is, I didn't have high hopes for this story at first but I've fallen in love with it. It also seems like a story that HAD to be written in the Timeless universe, especially since the other story had created the perfect setup, so I should have been planning to write it from the start. Also, this AU has forced me to dissect my characters and the whole universe so much more than I anticipated – but it's been really fun – even though it's also broken my brain a bit.
In Another Way, Draco is less obsessed with maintaining his free will. We've seen him submit more readily to the inevitability of the timeline this go around and I think the main difference is because he wasn't hit with the fact that he'd be married to Hermione first thing - which was, admittedly, alarming. In this story instead of craving choice (and even going off on his own for a good bit of the story, pulling back from his family and friends, like in Timeless) he kind of falls apart when he has a choice. So just that one difference changed a big part of his behavior.
Another huge difference is how Draco falls for Hermione on his own. He even says in this chapter that he thinks it's better that way. Is it? In Timeless, this was Hermione's biggest insecurity about their relationship but Timeless Draco was never concerned about it. I think it's because he loved her so deeply that to him, it didn't matter how it had come about. But it's an interesting question for sure. Is their love in this story more "real" in a way?
That's enough rambling for now. I can go on and on pondering over the interesting questions this story sparks (and I claim no credit for creating them, they sort of came about on their own), but that's enough for now. More fun, brain-breaking times to come! Thanks so much for reading!