A Moment in Time

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter enterprise, nor do I have anything to do with JK Rowling.

Hermione's Story
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Most people you talk to, when you mention my name, will tell you that I was the best Auror the Ministry ever had. They're wrong. What I did publicly may have been great, but it is what the people don't know that I'm ashamed of.

I'll start at the beginning, so you can judge me with all the facts. When it was proven that Voldemort had returned, Mad Eye Moody requested to be reinstated as an Auror. Everyone on the Ministry, with the exception of Lucius Malfoy of course, agreed. Harry, Ron, and I left Hogwarts at the end of our seventh year to find a world of darkness, death - Voldemort's ideal world, except for one thing... Harry was still alive.

Due to Dumbledore during the school year, and the magical protection at his aunt and uncles, Harry was relatively safe. Now he was without that protection, it didn't take Voldemort long to make him his target. What surprised everyone, including Moody, was that Voldemort didn't make a move straight away. He waited, for almost three years, before he tried anything. And even then it wasn't a direct attack on Harry. He went for Ron.

I'll never forget returning to the flat that Harry, Ron, and I shared to find him on the kitchen floor, seemingly frozen in fear. Avada Kedava... it was then I decided to become an Auror. It was logical - I had left Hogwarts with equal top honors, and I was the one who walked away with the highest accumulated points, not only for Gryffindor, but for the school.

But getting there was the hard part then. I contacted Moody, who agreed to train me - after a lot of persuasion. Even though he'd told Ron, Harry, and I many times at school, after he'd been reinstated from the trunk we'd make good Aurors, he was hesitant about training me. I think, somewhere under all that gruff exterior, he really didn't want us, me in particular, getting hurt.

I didn't want to disappoint him, so I trained as hard as possible for as long as possible. And though there were always new places offered at the Ministry for Aurors, Moody would never allow me to take one. He told me I wasn't ready, and to keep training.

After a while, I discovered a few things to make life as an Auror easier. I cut my hair, which I'd always thought to be uncontrollable short, and changed a few details with magic. I didn't want long, fluffy hair to be in my way. I started looking for ways to stand up to Moody, to tell him I wanted a position in the Ministry. When I faced off with him, he told me he'd done the same thing. "You have to be ready, and you aren't ready. You may think you are, you may think you're strong enough, but there are things I still know, and you don't. Until I've taught you everything, and I mean everything, that I can, don't even think about joining the Ministry, because you won't last a week."

When I finally realized he was telling the truth, I relented and became more immersed in my training. The day I'd always been dreading came about three months after that, when I walked into the training gym to find no sign of Moody. The Ministry sent out searches, and finally they found what was left of him. His eye, and leg had been taken, most likely as trophies, and he'd been left hanging from a dead tree. A note had been found in his pocket, which looked as though it had been written a long time ago. "Now, Granger, you may take a position in the Ministry" was all that the note said, and I decided I would do just that.

It didn't take long before they let me in - barely anyone would accept the job now anyway. The first few assignments I had weren't tough at all. In fact, they were basically what Moody and I had covered in our training sessions. One particularly nasty assignment involving a Death-Eater on the back of a dragon almost finished me, but I prevailed. As long as I was in the hospital, St Mungo's, I knew there were death-eaters somewhere, walking free. It was all I could think about - it plagued my dreams, haunted my mind. I think the specialists were glad to be rid of me in the end.

I didn't even realise the damage that had been done until the day I left. My face, something I'd actually cared about at school, was scarred. Not heavily, but the scars were there. But that was nothing compared to my arm. My right arm, my wand hand, was melted, twisted, deformed. It was horrible to look at, and I initially tried to cover up. After a while, when I was finally allowed back into the Ministry and had taken on a uniform I was comfortable in, I didn't worry about it.

I had been given Moody's old position, third in command of all Aurors, when I was contacted about the Hogwarts reunion. I knew, for a fact, that many of my year had been killed, but I didn't know the actual numbers. I didn't really want to go back - the Hogwarts I had in my head was a vibrant memory - but I had no choice. It was my duty to see how many of us there were left.

I went in full uniform, an ankle-length, thick black skirt with leather pants underneath, knee-high, thick leather boots, and a thick leather bodice top. I purposely left the helmet off - I didn't want people to think I was too unapproachable. Still, I forgot about my arm, and the stares I caught almost made me laugh. I think I was the person no one had expected to go into the business of being an Auror.

The person I saw, as I was leaving, sent shivers down my spine. I'd never really expected to see Draco Malfoy at a Hogwarts ten-year reunion. He had been standing there, in the doorway, all night. I'd done my rounds, seen who was missing, who was still alive, and I didn't like what I saw. There were some people I knew had died - I'd found them myself. Dumbledore was one. He'd sent the Ministry an owl, asking for an Auror to be sent to the castle. By the time I reached there, he was dead, and the Death-eater got off scot-free.

Neville Longbottom was another. His grandmother had called the Ministry, frantic, because he hadn't called her. I was sent, and I found him as well. I felt so guilty afterwards, for thinking that Neville had just forgotten....

As I left Hogwarts for the last time, I ran into Malfoy face-to-face. He stood in front of me, as though he didn't know who I was. I think he was distracted by my arm, which he couldn't tear his eyes away from. "Move it, Malfoy. Quit staring, your eyes might pop out of your head and roll around on the floor. And if that doesn't happen naturally, I'll make it happen." My tone had been harsher then I'd meant it to be, but it didn't faze him. "What's wrong, Mudblood, here to be bodyguard to your little Potty friend?" he almost sneered at me. the answer I was looking for, the final comeback I had for the night, seemed to jump from my mind of it's own accord. "In actual fact, yes I am. It is the job, Malfoy, to look after people, *good* people, when you're an Auror. Now, if you don't mind, or even if you do, get out of my way before I go through you!"

He moved, ever so slightly, to one side and I pushed past him, eager to leave the building, eager to forget what I'd seen, to try to remember how things used to be. I didn't look back as I left Hogwarts, I didn't ever like to look back, on anything.

In truth, when I finally fell asleep that night, I remembered the fling I'd had during seventh year, the fling I'd had with Draco... the fling no one ever knew about. I'd been crazy about him, even though I still called him names along with Harry, and Ron, and every Gryffindor. We never actually done anything, but the desire was just under the surface. It never left, as I found out at the reunion, just lay dormant for so long.

After the reunion, I found myself swamped with death-eaters. Not all at once, mind you, but there were some good ones. The death-eaters who'd lived through their encounters with me ended up in Azkaban. About a year after the reunion I was finally captured. A group, twenty at least, attacked me at once. I expected them to kill me, but they didn't. instead, they took me to a large, rambling mansion, and tortured me for what felt like hours.

Finally, I was dragged to a large, dark room. Someone was standing on the top of a staircase, and I believed that person was Voldemort. The death-eaters let me stand on my own, and my wand was returned. The person on the staircase stood across from me, laughing hollowly. "Voldemort..." I said under my breath, and the person laughed again.

I couldn't see his face, and I didn't want to die like that. I did the first thing that came into my mind. "Expellarius!" I yelled with as much strength as I could muster, and the robe flew back. It wasn't Voldemort - it wasn't even someone I hadn't met. It was Draco Malfoy. I didn't know what to think. I'd always believed, deep down, that he wasn't a bad person, that he wouldn't be influenced by Voldemort. I half-expected him to start laughing at me, to tell me he'd already been here and gotten rid of Voldemort, made it safe for me... but he didn't.

He stared, laughing under his breath. I felt my muscles tense, and I gripped my wand, pointed at him, and yelled "AVADA KEDAVA!" He ducked out of the way - maybe that was a good thing. At that moment, I hadn't given a single thought to what would happen to me if the curse had been successful. I hadn't cared what it would be like in Azkaban day-after-day. I hadn't cared about anything.

He simply straightened himself and looked at me. he looked like he was fighting an inside battle for a while, but finally he sent a charm at me I've never heard before or since. "Edoni Hevarti."

That is all I remember from my meeting with Draco Malfoy. I woke up in a branch of St Mungo's, the same one where I'd been treated for the burn I think, and they released me after a few weeks of my grumbling.

I couldn't stand to fight Malfoy without knowing his curses, so I applied to leave Europe for America, where the world's best libraries are. They didn't want to let me leave. Some of the excuses they used were astounding. "We can't finance a personal trip," "You have to fulfil your fifteen years of duty before you can leave here," and the best one - "You're the best Auror since Mad Eye Moody. You're the only one whose been here for over five years!"

I threatened to quit the profession altogether if they didn't let me leave, and so I found myself on a plane to the states. I spent the next few years in the libraries, searching for a clue, anything, that would let me know what charm Malfoy had used. I found nothing.

When I returned to Europe, to London, I laid low. I tried to avoid all contact with the Ministry, and for a while, it worked. They didn't know I was back in England for so long, I'd actually hoped they thought I was dead. Alas, no. They found me the year I turned thirty. I told them, in no uncertain terms, that I was retired. They could find someone else to fight their battles, I was through.

For two years they continued to annoy me. Finally, I left my home and headed for Diagon Alley. Many of the shops that had been there when I was at school were long gone, replaced by others I'd never even thought could exist. Dark magic seemed to have been set free in the street - more hexes, curses, and practical joke stores lined the streets then ever before.

I found one that sounded very familiar - Weasley Wizard Wheezes, the shop opened and run by Fred and George Weasley the year after they left Hogwarts. I stopped in there, said hi to both Fred and George, and their families. It wouldn't be long, I thought, before another crop of red-haired Weasley's graced the Hogwarts rooms.

Leaving there, I bumped into someone who looked strangely familiar. I didn't know who, and I'm not really sure still, but the way they looked at me was unnerving. Or it could have been that I was jumping at shadows like Moody had once done. Nevertheless, I wasn't surprized to find I was being tailed. I reversed direction and tailed them for a while, but they obviously knew their stuff because the tables turned once again.

I headed to a bar, standing where the Leaky Cauldron had once stood, and waited for the person to arrive. They did, and they surprised me. the person headed straight towards me, and it was then I realized how strange he looked. His eyes weren't bright, but they weren't dull either. He wasn't skinny like he hadn't eaten for years, but he didn't seem to fill his clothes out right. And his hair... it was pale, but not as pale as Malfoy's had been during school.

We talked. Both skipping past details as trivial as our names, our ages, our schools... commenting on the weather, the war between the pure-bloods and mudbloods. By the time our conversation ended, I had no doubt who I was talking to, but I don't know if that person was the same person who'd run into me outside the Weasley's. I was talking to Draco Malfoy, I was sure of it.

Somehow, by unspoken agreement, we still didn't mention names, Hogwarts, people we knew. If we left it so we were strangers, there would be no war between us. No cause to start the fight afresh. The Ministry had finally died out, still begging me to return, and the Dark Lord's power had shown supremacy. The world was a place to be proud of, if you were a dark wizard, and a place to fear, if you were a muggle, a mudblood, or someone Draco Malfoy despised.

Somewhere, though all of this, we left together, and completed what we'd once almost done at Hogwarts. I never saw him again; he left when I was asleep.

That was three years ago, and now I have a son. I named him Blane, Blane Draco Aquillis Malfoy Granger. A big name, I agree. But a name relating to a person who has never done me wrong, not really. Harry, my friend, the person I love as a brother, never understood the choice of names I gave my son, and I don't blame him. I have since told him about my fling with Malfoy at school - he didn't understand, and I don't expect him to, but he has at least accepted my decision. Blane won't be brought up how Draco Malfoy would have liked, that I'm sure of, but I don't want him to be cut off from ever knowing his father - even if they don't meet in person.

There hasn't been much movement in the Wizarding world since three years ago when Malfoy announced himself as ruler, but I have a feeling that is about to change. I don't know why, or how, I know. Call it a gut instinct if you will, but something will happen soon. Harry is a teacher at Hogwarts now, one of very few places that remain the same as they were many years ago, and Blane is very powerful already - I shudder to think what he will be like when he grows into his powers.

But I have a while before that happens, plenty of time to think about things, to prepare things. All I can do is wait, and wonder...

If we could go back in time and change but a single moment, would it make the world a better place?
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A/N: Chap 2 is done. Tell me whatya think, and I'll get the next one up and away ASAP! Again I apologise to those who are fans of Ron, Ginny, Neville, Hagrid, Dubmledore, and etc.