Time of Your Life

Time of Your Life

By Mina

Chapter Four: What May Have Been

A/N: In this author's note, I feel that I need to "thank" several people. 1st off, muchas gracias to all my teachers, for finally working me so much that I started falling asleep in class, therefore lowering my immune system's… er… immunity, getting me sick, and letting me go home. I'd like to thank Dillon for being a stubborn little prick, I'd like to thank my math teacher for having a nice long class today, and I'd like to thank my friend Maria, who probably got me sick AGAIN, since I always get sick right after she does. Of course, the preceding comments were said with sarcasm. . I'd like to thank Taranda Borgin (ff.net:Borgin), my beta, and I'd like to thank Andy (ff.net: Sirius) for giving me a cameo, and Steph (ff.net: Labyrinth Dumbledore), for being a great friend, and participating in my crazy RPG's. And, the biggest thanks goes out to all those who reviewed: THANK YOU! That out of the way, I'll proceed with the story. Warning, this is written under the influence of antibiotics, sleep-deprivation, and a rather strange obsession with Seamus Finnigan, who has no part in this whatsoever. Now, on with the damned ficcy!

"Six whole hours

And five long days

For all your lies to come undone

And those three small words

Were way too late

Cause you can't see that I'm the one"

--Three Small Words, Josie and the Pussycats.

"Yesterday… all my troubles seemed so far away

Now it looks as though they're here to stay

Oh I believe in yesterday.

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be

There's a shadow hanging over me

Oh yesterday came suddenly"

--Yesterday, The Beatles

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Date: December 20th, 1979

Location: Small pub in London

Time: 10:25 PM

The man was tall and thin, looking about twenty-five or so. He had light brown hair, cropped close to his head. He was in military uniform, just back from a long trip to Ireland. Those damned people were crazy, he thought to himself as the bartender poured him another pint. I got this horrid habit from them, he decided as he chugged down another glass.

He looked back at the gold band on his hand and shook his head uncertainly. He wasn't actually married, not yet. Just engaged, and to a woman he loved. Or thought he loved, up until today.

It was the usual kind of fight, things being thrown, yelling, and endless bickering. And so he ended up in this shabby pub, with a small knapsack containing a few spare shirts and a pair of pants. That bitch didn't even have the decency to give me a toothbrush, he mused as he wiped the foam off his upper lip.

He told her that he loved her, and that she was his everything, and that no woman was more important in his life. Of course, she said that he was too late, and that it was hopeless, and that she didn't need him anymore.

"Wife kick you out?" the bartender asked cautiously. The man shook his head and chuckled glumly.

"Fiancé. Well, she wasn't worth it. A good-for-nothing…" The bartender shook his head. He didn't look too convinced, but he poured the man another pint, and went back to servicing his other customers.

And the man mourned quietly, shuffling the wedding band from hand to hand, and every now and then, letting a tear slip by.

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Date: December 25th, 1979

Location: Malfoy Mansion, uncharted

Time: 10:03 PM

"Never!" hissed Narcissa, backing away from Lucius. Lucius growled, and grabbed her hand harshly.

"You are my wife now. You shall do as I say, else you will be punished. This isn't finishing school, m'dear," he said with an evil glint in his icy eyes.

Narcissa's bottom lip quivered slightly, and she looked ready to cry. However, she stuck her chin out defiantly and marched out of the room.

"Where are you going now?" Lucius called after her. His voice was dripping with amusement and sarcasm. "I suppose you have another lover, then? My, my…"

"I'm going now, and you can't stop me!" Narcissa slammed several doors loudly as she gathered her cloak and threw on some plain robes, which resembled a Muggle dress.

"Go ahead. I won't try. You'll be back, and I'll be waiting."

Lucius and Narcissa had been married for one week, and needless to say, it was not a happy marriage. Neither was it a willing one… Arranged marriages were very common amongst the powerful, aristocratic Pureblood families. It was almost a tradition, and one that was not to be forgotten anytime soon.

Narcissa grabbed her purse and threw a pinch of Floo Powder into the fire. "London!" she yelled as she stepped inside.

Lucius smirked at the place where Narcissa just stood, and stroked his chin thoughtfully. She has an insolent streak, he mused. I like that. I think I'll keep her around, if only because she interests me. Yes, she is quite amusing.

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Narcissa ran through the snowy flurries, the drops of semi-melted slush getting stuck in her curly blonde hair. She looked surprisingly like her husband – tall, blonde, with striking features. However, she had a much softer, more submissive air about her. Her whole life, she was trained (almost like a dog) to do what she was told, and she was sick and tired of it.

Love was not something that one could play foolish games with, and it seemed as though it would never truly come her way. Narcissa did not love her parents. They were selfish, self-centered, and didn't care about how Narcissa truly felt. To them, she was just another trophy to show off. As a young girl, they would dress her up in robes of silk and curl her hair, just to display her as a little doll that was perfect in every fashion.

She did not love Lucius Malfoy. It was far from that. She despised him, loathed him, but she did not fear him. She was supposed to, really, but something about the man made her want to burst out in peals of laughter. Narcissa thought that he looked like a pompous, overdressed pig, reminding her of Napoleon in "Animal Farm", a Muggle book she once read.

But now was not the time for thinking; she was running through the London alleys, snow-covered and windy, and she was cold. A thin cloak (though wool) couldn't keep out the wetness and cold of winter, and the skimpy robes beneath did nothing to help her situation. A Warmth Charm would have fixed her situation immediately, but it wasn't safe; Muggles would think it strange to see a young woman running through the streets of London, the snow melting within a five-foot radius of her.

She saw the light of a pub, merry yells and shouts coming from inside. Narcissa heard a clip of a well-known Irish drinking tune, and grimaced. It certainly wasn't the sort of place that she wanted to be seen in… But they were Muggles, and inferior to her in all ways. What could they possibly do to a fully trained witch, especially one that once took a course in self-defense?

She ran forward to the pub door, slowly pushing it open and glancing inside cautiously. Then, averting all her self-preservation instincts, she stepped inside, an expression of pure apathy painted on her face.

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Date: December 25th, 1979

Location: Previously mentioned pub

Time: 10:34 PM

It was the man's 5th pint, and he was getting quite drunk by now. Half the pub heard of his misfortunes, and, most of them being as drunk just as he was, they proceeded to tell about how their "oul' bitch kicked 'em out", too, and how she came begging to have them back. Even through his fogged up, drunken stupor, Thomas knew that the chances of Anna beginning for him were minimal, if existent at all.

Soft footsteps sounded from the entrance of the pub, and Thomas twisted around to see the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on walk into the dingy bar.

She wore a face that was indifferent to all the catcalls and offers of drinks that she was receiving. Her clothes were also slightly strange, but Thomas figured that it was some new style; besides, this woman looked like a model that just stepped off a runway in Paris.

She had waist-length blonde hair, which curled about her face in a sort of cascade of silk. Her eyes were a peculiar grey-blue shade, with a tint of green on the sides, and she had pale skin, as though she was kept hidden inside for years, away from the healthy glow of the sun. Still, she was almost perfect in Thomas's eyes. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but there seemed to be some compelling aura around the woman, something irresistible, yet elusive.

"I'm Narcissa," she said, turning to Thomas. He had the sudden urge to turn around and see if she was talking to some handsome man behind him. No, it was him alright.

"Thomas Granger," he said cordially, and shook her hand. She caught a glimpse of the wedding band, and smiled lightly.

"Having a guys' night out, to take a break from the wife, I assume?" she asked nonchalantly, ordering a plain lemonade from the bartender, who seemed hardly affected by her charm.

"No… Recently had a fight with my fiancé," Thomas murmured, staring at the band and letting the dim electric light shine off the metal surface and create sunspots on the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," Narcissa muttered, taking a sip of her lemonade. She, too, had a gold ring on her finger, which Thomas had failed to notice before.

"Are you married, too?" he asked, surprised that one so young and as pretty as her would be settled down already.

"Yes… Just a week, actually." She quickly added, "It was more of an arranged-marriage type of deal. Our parents were good friends, and always assumed that their children would marry. So we did. Personally, I find my husband a loathsome man; all he ever cares about is his work and his own personal benefit." Her piercing eyes stared into his face intently.

"My f- Anna, she said the same about me. She said that I had no right to desert her for my work, and that I should have never joined the army, and stuck to medical school."

"Really? What were you studying?" Narcissa asked in interest. She did not know much about Muggle culture, but she was eager to learn. This man seemed interesting enough, if not overall a kind and nice guy. She couldn't comprehend how his wife was unhappy with him.

"Dentistry. It was my field of expertise, so you can put it," Thomas muttered and ordered himself another glass of beer.

"No," Narcissa simply said and pushed the beer away. "No more alcohol for you."

"Really?" he muttered tiredly, his eyes dull and lacking their usual luster.

"No more alcohol," she repeated.

"Where do you live?" Thomas asked suddenly.

"Far."

"Would you like to… go to a hotel or something?" Thomas was appalled with himself. Why was he so blatantly hitting on a married woman? No matter, she'd reject him, and he could go on drinking-

"Okay," she answered softly. Narcissa looked at him trustingly, and stood up. She followed him out of the pub and into the hotel a few blocks down. The snow stopped falling so violently, and the two slowly trekked towards their room after getting the key at the front desk.

Their footprints left deep dents in the newly fallen snow, and no one knew that, at that moment, they were about to change the flow of history, and alter some people's lives forever.

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Narcissa and Thomas spent that night doing what was expected of them – the author will leave the readers to decide for themselves. The next morning, the two went their own ways.

Narcissa went back to Lucius, and he, of course, forgave her. They did not exactly live happily ever after – but it was as happy as could be expected.

Thomas went back to Anna, and they made up. Anna never found out about Thomas's night out, and he never felt the need to tell her. They were married two weeks later, as planned. Thomas and Narcissa never saw each other again, though, once, a mysterious letter found itself in Thomas's briefcase. The loopy handwriting at the bottom proclaimed "Narcissa Malfoy". But the contents of the letter are yet to be revealed to us.

Maybe one – no, two – things happened that were out of the ordinary. About nine months after that fateful night, Narcissa had a baby – a son, and she named him Draco. The boy had Narcissa's hair, and Narcissa's father's eyes. But there was something about him that was un-Malfoy, and not resembling Narcissa.

He had a strong chin, narrow shoulders, and a gaunt walk that only one person Narcissa knew of had – Thomas, the Muggle. Draco was, undoubtedly, her son. But Lucius was certainly not the father. Narcissa had the sense never to tell her husband of it, obviously. She loved her son, and she would not let Lucius kill him. No, it was better to live with this secret than to ever hurt her child, or the man that fathered him.

Anna and Thomas had a daughter – Hermione Granger. She looked much like her mother in many ways, but she had her father's eyes and hair, as well as his love for books. When she was eleven, a letter came from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Hermione attended. The rest of the story is known to us – her best friends were Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and her most hated enemy was Draco Malfoy.

And so it went on, until the fateful day that Mr. and Mrs. Granger had to take some money out of the bank…

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Dear Thomas,

You probably don't remember me. This is Narcissa Malfoy, the woman that you met on December 25th, two years ago, in a pub in London.

Last August, I had a baby – a son, and his name is Draco. He is not my husband's son, but yours. There is a portrait enclosed; see how he looks like you? He has your face shape and figure, though he does slightly resemble my husband. That is fortunate for both of us.

I don't want child support, and I don't want you to try to contact me. My husband knows nothing, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. I love my son dearly, and I would rather have him believe that Lucius, my husband, is, indeed, his father.

I just thought that you should know. Don't wonder how this letter got into your things, I have my ways. But, please – don't try to contact me. You'll regret it, for my husband is a very vengeful man.

I hope that you and your fiancé patched up your differences, and that you live a happy and satisfied life.

Sincerely,

Narcissa Malfoy

Narcissa Malfoy

P.S. Perhaps we shall meet again someday, to discuss this face-to-face.

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A/N #2: *cringes* Yes, I realize that this ruins all chances of D/H. Well, I said that I didn't want much romance! I hope that everybody is satisfied with the way this is going, and I hope that it explains things somewhat. I realize that I'm messing with canon, but somehow this version seemed more realistic than "Narcissa has a baby girl with Thomas, which she gives back to him, and then has Draco", which was my original plan. Whatever. Bye, then! R/R, tell me what you think!

-Mina