Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe.

Through Time

Five: Goals and Plans

Draco Malfoy hated all Gryffindors. Without exception.

Until he walked into Transfiguration, second day of term, his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and saw Professor McGonagall's trainee professor. Draco Malfoy decided to make an exception to his personal rule for this girl. Several exceptions, in fact, starting with Draco Malfoy does not like red-heads, and continuing down through all rules regarding the ignoring and not flirting with, nor dating, persons residing in Gryffindor House.

He was, of course, quite annoyed when the incredibly beautiful, Transfigurationally talented—had he mentioned beautiful?—Lily was found to be perched on a desk after class, telling Harry Potter her life story, as he listened intently. Of course, Harry would get to her first.

Draco was sure he had smoke streaming from his ears as he stormed from the Transfiguration classroom. Then he calmed himself, smoothing back his hair and standing a bit taller. He was Draco Malfoy, the son of a long line of talented witches and wizards (if you could ignore the fact that his father was currently in prison for being a Death Eater, which his mother often reminded him of and warned him to be careful who he hexed), and he could out charm Potter any day of the week. Except maybe on Saturday, when there was a Quidditch match. The thought brought Draco's blood to a boil.

He had a goal, and Draco always achieved his goals. And right now, his goal was to have Lily Evans.

~`~

Harry, Hermione, and Ron slogged through ankle deep—it seemed—mud to the greenhouses on Tuesday. Ron carried Hermione's knapsack as she leaned against Harry as they slid down the grass. A young man with blond hair was holding the door open for them. Harry knew this had to be Sirius, because who else could it have been? He was the only trainee professor they had yet to meet.

Harry looked up at him as he walked by with a thoroughly mud-spattered Hermione. This was, by far, the most complete transformation. Sirius looked nothing like what Harry had known of his godfather, and nothing like the handsome young man he had met in the corridor two nights previous. Aside from the blond hair—as natural as if he'd been born with it—Sirius's eyes were blue, and his features had softened, smoothed, until he had an almost pretty, androgynous look to him. He flashed a smile at the sodden trio as they squished into the greenhouse.

Professor Sprout stood at the end of a long table, covered with dirt and shriveled little plants that let out a squeak as Ron reached out toward one. He snatched his hand back, and Harry laughed, earning himself a silencing look from both the professor, and Hermione.

"This is Black," Professor sprout said. "He asks to be known only by that, considering his first name of Mugwhomp to be quite embarrassing." Sirius blushed dark and the class laughed. "Anyway, before you on the table, you see things that look like roots. Please pull on your gloves before you touch them."

"I wonder what they do if you touch them without gloves?" Ron asked.

"They sting you," Sirius said, leaning between Ron and Harry. "And then you get big blisters all over where you touched."

He held up his hand as an example. Hermione gave him a look of disgust.

"Sprout didn't warn me," Sirius said, grinning.

"Shouldn't you have known?" asked Ernie McMillan, who had already taken a dislike to Sirius after seeing the way the girls—particularly his girlfriend-- were mooning over him.

"I've never seen them before today," Sirius admitted.

"You've graduated, Mugwhomp," Ernie said, stressing the name. "You ought to know."

"My apologies for being forced to attend a second rate wizarding school," Sirius hissed, bright roses of color blooming in his pale, smooth cheeks. He stared Ernie down. Though his eyes were a different color, and his face much more innocent, the gaze seemed to have the same effect on the Hufflepuff prefect, and Ernie turned away.

While the class was wrestling with their plants, Hermione leaned over and whispered to Harry.

"Did you talk to Lily last night?" Hermione asked.

Harry eyed her, unsure whether he wanted to tell her what had happened. He hadn't even told Ron. Not that he would have told Ron that he'd broken down and cried in the arms of a really, really pretty girl—even if it was his mother—at sixteen years old, anyway.

"Yes," Harry said slowly, concentrating on getting the roots of the plant buried firmly in a pot.

"And?" Hermione prompted.

"Hermione…" Harry said.

"You don't have to tell me," she said. "I understand."

Harry looked at her and smiled. "Thank you," he said. She nodded, understanding that it would take him time to be able to tell her about what had happed that night with Lily. It was his business anyway, and if he didn't want to tell her, she wasn't going to force him to.

Hermione reached out her gloved hand and put it over the back of Harry's, then closed her fingers and squeezed. Her touch was light through the thick dragonhide gloves, but Harry knew her hand was there. He stepped closer to her with the tiniest of movements, and they continued working through the rest of the class period in silence, never breaking the contact between the sides of their bodies.

~`~

The four time-travelers met up in the Library shortly after dinner, grouping together in the darkest corner, where they were least likely to be overheard. Lily pressed back into the corner pulling James against her side, and motioning Sirius and Remus closer.

"What's wrong?" Remus asked, searching Lily's face.

"Two days in this strange new world, and she's already got a stalker," James said, a grin playing across his lips. Lily punched him in the arm.

"Ha. Ha." She said. "He's in James's house. And he looks at me like… well… I don't know. Like I'm a prize, or a really nice side of beef."

"Most of the Slytherin boys I've met think of girls like that, so don't feel privileged." James said.

"Actually?" Remus said. "Most boys look at girls like that."

"I look at girls like that," Sirius said. "Can you blame him for looking at Lily like that? I mean…" He motioned as though wiping sweat from his forehead. Lily rolled her eyes.

"And not only that, but Harry said that he's a right prat." Lily said. "He's cute, I'll admit, but my live is pretty much sworn to James at this point, so alas, I shall have to suffer on."

"Hey!" James protested. "I'm not all that bad, and look at what a great kid we have! Had? Will have?" He looked at Remus.

"Uhh… sorry mate, but conjugation escapes me on that one." Remus said. James sighed and plowed on.

"So is it such a tragedy that you choose to spend the rest of your life with me?" James asked.

"Since you're only third on my list, I'm thinking yes," Lily said, grinning.

"Who's first?" Sirius asked. Lily flashed him a smile.

"Do you really have to ask?" She said, tipping her head down slightly so that she looked through her lashes at Sirius, and lowering her voice so that there was no doubt left as to who her first choice as love was.

"Well, who's second?" James demanded.

Lily's eyes flicked briefly to Remus.

"HIM!?" James cried. Madam Pince was barreling down on them. James lowered his voice with an apologetic look in her direction. "You chose the werewolf over me?"

"Hey now," Remus began. "That's not my fault you know…"

"And this is exactly why, James," Lily snapped. "Your childish attitude toward… EVERYTHING!" Madam Pince glared at them again, and one more outburst and they were sure to be ejected from the library. She dropped her voice to a barely audible whisper. "But I realized something last night."

"What?" James asked.

"Well, I know we get back," Lily said.

"How?" Remus said, his eyes widening.

"Well, I was talking to Harry, and he said something like, don't pick Wormtail as our secret keeper, and he was crying, and I was crying," Lily said. "And suddenly, this feeling came over me, like, wow, this is my son. I love this kid, and I know that that was why I protected him from… the way I did."

"You just knew?" Sirius queried softly.

"I could feel it, guys." Lily said. "I know it wasn't You-Know-Who who brought us here. It was someone else, someone who knew what could happen, as far as Harry is concerned."

"How can you base this on just feelings, Lily?" Sirius asked. He looked skeptical.

"Can't you just trust that I know why I feel this?" Lily demanded. "You don't like it just because it means that James and I will fall in love and get married, and blah, blah, blah."

Sirius was pouting. Lily rolled her eyes at him again.

"She's probably right," Remus said. "I mean, obviously, this all has something to do with Harry—possibly the fact that he is the Boy Who Lived. James had the dreams. We appear at a low in Harry's life—Sirius has just died in this time. We knock him unconscious when we appear."

"All signs point to 'Lily is correct.'" Lily said. James nodded his assent. Sirius continued to pout.

"So what do we do?" Remus said.

"Well, I've been thinking about this," Lily began, and the three boys leaned toward her in whispered conversation.

The plan moved forward.