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.

A/N: Just to clear things up... Harry didn't die in there anywhere, it was Voldemort who wanted him dead, and Draco didn't really give a shit about it - he was just following orders. And yes, Draco does know about his son, but he knows that he'll never get to meet him.
FS: I'm sorry I skipped the SS, but you wouldn't believe how hard it is to think of them. If I get a chance, I'll write another version of each chapter with the scenes included, k?

Harry's Story
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I have seen so much pain, and death in my life. I wish I hadn't... but then again, anyone who is born, or lives through a time of darkness wishes they hadn't. I have lost some of the people most important in my life, and even some who weren't.... let me take you back seventeen years, to the year after I left Hogwarts.

Ron, Hermione, and I shared a flat in London. We knew, when we left Hogwarts, we would be in a lot of danger no matter where we went. It was suggested to me, by Cornelius Fudge of the Ministry, that I stay in Hogsmeade until Voldemort was stopped. If I had done that, I would *still* be there. But if I *had* done that, many people could still be alive.

What still haunts my dreams, is the fact that I could have saved so many people's lives. Ron, for one... Ron was my best friend all through school - he was the best friend I've ever had in my life. I'll never forget that day... it was hot, stinking hot. Hermione met me at the door, in hysterics, saying something about the killing curse and Ron. I didn't understand much more than that, but when I saw her face - and I mean actually say her face - I knew something drastic had happened.

I couldn't speak after I saw Ron in the kitchen. He looked as though he'd fallen asleep on the floor - I half expected him to open his eyes and start laughing at any minute... but he couldn't, and never could again.

It was at that moment that I actually knew what it was like to lose someone. I never knew my parents, so I couldn't remember anything about when I lost them... but this was different. He wasn't my blood relation, but he was my brother... the closest thing to a real brother I ever had. Losing someone isn't like losing a race, or a competition. It's worse then coming last out of millions of people faster then you, or better at something. Its as though your soul is torn in half, you're incomplete. An empty void is created where your soul and body meet, and it can't ever be filled again.

Hermione seemed to suffer worse than me, physically. She threw herself into training, studying, everything she could to try to forget what had happened. I didn't... somehow, even though I felt like killing myself the whole time, I made my way through.

It was during this time that Voldemort tried to get rid of me. Even though I fought back without a care in the world if I lived or died, I survived. There was a lull in activities for almost three years then, during which time I began seeing Ginny. The Weasley's were quick to forgive me for not staying in Hogsmeade where we could be kept under surveillance, but I knew they'd never forget what had happened. I still feel as though it is my fault he died.

The lull in activities would have a big climax, and I knew it. I just didn't expect one quite so big, or as fast as what it was. Ginny disappeared, and her body was found two weeks later by Muggles. Neville, someone I'd become especially good friends with during our last year at Hogwarts, didn't show up when we'd arranged to meet over drinks. He wasn't heard from until someone from the ministry found his remains three weeks afterwards. Even Hagrid vanished, and Dumbledore was found in his office at Hogwarts. They told me Dumbledore had died in his sleep... but unless you're having particularly horrific nightmares that kill, you don't die with a look of terror on your face.

What made me think I was going crazy was when I got a letter from Sirius telling me the death-eaters were surrounding my aunt and uncles place. I didn't, couldn't, understand why they would target Muggles I didn't even like, but when I remembered the magic surrounding the place for me... with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gone, there'd be no safe place for me anywhere.

I don't blame Hermione for becoming an Auror; I would have done the same had I been in her position. But I wasn't. I had lost too many friends for it to be coincidence, and I knew I wouldn't ever be any use to the ministry if I was always wondering who would go next. I think now, looking back, I was amazed whenever Hermione sent me an Owl. Somehow, and I didn't mean to doubt her, I thought she would be killed.

I managed to survive until the Hogwarts reunion... it seemed, somehow, that I hadn't been hunted as much during these years. I didn't want to go - there would be too many faces missing, too many memories ruined. Mrs. Weasley convinced me to... she told me that Ron would be, if he were alive, and I should go, even if it were just to take his spirit to see his friends. As far fetched as this may sound, I believed her. I still do.

Hermione, who I hadn't seen for quite some time at this point, turned up. I knew *she* didn't want to be there. Hogwarts was always a happy memory for her, and by going back she would only destroy that memory. She was so different to what I remembered... so much older, yet her eyes were so much younger, so childlike.

The number of faces missing was astonishing. Even I didn't think there would be so many less... but one person was there, I noted. Draco Malfoy... I'd always wondered what he would end up doing in life. I guess being a death-eater was like coming home for him - it was the only thing that mattered to him. he didn't really do much - didn't talk to people, didn't eat anything, didn't drink anything... didn't do anything much besides stand around and look at people.

He *did* say something to Hermione, because I saw her talk back. She left then, and Malfoy went back to watching people so closely I was half-afraid they would spontaneously combust. He wasn't that lucky. I didn't see him leave, as he was still there when I headed for home. I didn't think Ron would mind that I skipped the 'in remembrance' section... the list would have been too long.

Hermione disappeared for a while after the reunion, and I was starting to really worry when I was told she was back at St Mungo's. I visited once, but they told me she didn't want any visitors. I sent owls instead. I always got a reply, including one about how Malfoy had taken Voldemort's position as the Dark Lord, but then she told me she was heading overseas for a few years, and not to expect a reply to the owls. She was gone for two years, and didn't even tell me when she arrived back - I found that out from the ministry when I applied for a teaching job at Hogwarts.

I'd spent the years Hermione was gone studying, training, to become a teacher. Hogwarts still had trouble with the Defense Against the Dark Arts position - no teacher had lasted for more than two years - but that didn't deter me from my mission. I would fill that place, teach the students what life outside was like. I was given the position when I turned thirty-three... two months after Hermione gave birth to her son.

Hermione had tracked me down when we were thirty, just after I'd found out she was back. She told me, time and again, how sorry she was, how she hadn't meant to leave me in the lurch, but how she knew that I wouldn't be a target any longer. Malfoy didn't have a reason to hate me other then the fact I was in Gryffindor, he was in Slytherin, and our houses were mortal enemies - but school was a long way behind us now, and that wasn't the same. At least with Voldemort there was a reason - I'd caused his downfall.

When Hermione needed a break from the hordes of owls from the ministry, she would go to Diagon Alley and lose herself amidst the crowds. One day I found her gone, and she didn't return for three weeks. I was worried, but I knew she could take care of herself. She *had* been an Auror.... When she did come back, she looked different. I don't know how, don't ask me to explain, but she was... different. There's no other word for it.

I found out why a couple of months later - she was pregnant. She said she knew who the father was, but she wasn't going to tell. When her son was born, I guessed the father and by the look on her face I knew I was right. Her son's name is Blane Draco Aquillis Malfoy Granger. Draco Malfoy is the father, and he announced his absolute power about two months after Hermione returned from her three-week long trip.

Hermione told me about her fling with Malfoy at Hogwarts; how could I have been so blind at the time? I still don't believe she should have named her son after someone so evil, someone who has caused more pain and suffering in this world then Voldemort himself. She tells me, every time I bring this up, that he never actually did anything to hurt her... I don't believe he ever cared about anything besides power.

Hogwarts is quieter then it was when I was at school there. There are less people, less teachers, less students. Gryffindor and Slytherin are no longer mortal enemies... in fact, Gryffindor reminds me of Hufflepuff now... no one wants to be placed there, no one wants anything to do with it. But I do... I'm the professor in charge of Gryffindor... I've been told I had the chance to play Quidditch for England, but I passed it up - I didn't pass anything up. I knew what I wanted, and I've now got it.

But I'll never stop wondering, if I had stayed at Hogsmeade like I had been told to, what would have happened with my life?
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A/N: That's it for Harry's story... whatcha think?? Let me know!!