Chapter Eighty-one

Hermione ripped her mask off and stared at Araminta as if she'd gone off the deep end. "Are you on some sort of medication? What's your problem?"

"Shut up and listen," Araminta began to say, but Hermione continued.

"I don't know who you think you are, but this closet is for storage, not snogging, and I'm not your mother, and...who is that?"

Draco removed his mask. "Just me, dearest," he said with a sneer. "Forgive me for intruding upon your earnest quest for the Holy Styrofoam. We'll leave you to it." He reached for the doorknob, but it wouldn't turn.

"Oh, move over." Hermione pushed past them in the enclosed space and drew her wand. "Alohomora!" Still the knob would not turn.

"I tied the locking spell to my own will," Araminta said smugly. "I have a few things to say, and you two need to hear them."

"I can't think of anything that you could have to say that I could possibly want to hear." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

Draco did the same. "I really sort of have to agree, Araminta. I'd be happy to listen, but I don't think we need to do this in the closet."

Araminta hopped up and down and clapped her hands. "There! You agreed on something! Maybe I don't have to die after all."

"What?" Hermione looked concerned. "Nobody has to die."

"Yes, well, you're killing me here," Araminta retorted. "Can't you see that Draco is madly in love with you? Can't you see that you are madly in love with him and want to bear me?"

"I do want to bear you, Araminta, but I find you unbearable--"

"Shush!" Draco interjected. "I want to know what she's getting at." He leaned back against the wall languidly and his hair fell over his stormy gray eyes. "Go on."

Araminta steeled herself. "Okay, but you both have to promise me that you won't interrupt." She fished around in her bodice, pulling out a vial of love potion. "Don't make me use this."

Draco said, "Of course," and Hermione gave an exasperated nod of agreement.

Araminta closed her eyes. "In the future...my past future...I lived at Malfoy Manor with the people I thought were my parents. My parents were married on the basis of their foretold love. Elves of Middle Earth delivered the prophecy because our line--the Malfoy line--still carries traces of their noble blood. The prophecy said 'Potter will find true happiness in the arms of a Malfoy.'"

Draco choked and Araminta glanced in his direction. His hands clenched into fists. "Potter's not putting one hand on my father!" He glanced at Araminta and Hermione. "Or my mother," he finished.

"I told you not to interrupt," Araminta said. "In my future, everything was wrong. The prophecy didn't happen like it was supposed to, because my mother sacrificed everything for her best friend and her one true love. Can you think what might have happened?"

Hermione paled. "Your...mother...she told her best friend that his happiness was the most important thing, and arranged for her best friend and her one true love to find true love...she convinced them to go along with it..."

"My mother is not, and never has been, a know-it-all." Araminta tried to hold back the tears. "I know, because she didn't pass that particular trait on to her daughter. She got the wrong Malfoy. The Malfoy she wanted hadn't been born yet."

"You...you mean..." Hermione's voice was thick with tears. "You mean that I really can be with Draco, no worries?"

"Yes." Araminta smiled as the tears slid down her cheeks. "No worries."

Draco looked confused. "I don't get it."

Hermione fell upon Araminta's neck, sobbing. "I'm sorry, so sorry for everything.... Can you forgive me? Can we get to know each other better?"

"I'll forgive you on one condition," Araminta said, laughing as she cried. "You need to get to work on Draco. I'd like to be born sometime in the near future."

"All right." Hermione leapt into Draco's arms, smothering him with her love. "We don't need to use spells anymore, Draco! We can just enjoy each other." She ripped off his shirt and ran her hands down his chest while Araminta, slightly horrified, fumbled for her wand to unlock the door.

"Yes, you two enjoy yourselves," she said, not quite able too tear her eyes away from the impending event that would bring about her conception. "Oh, be careful there..."

Hermione was kissing Draco too hard to really pay attention to what she was doing, and as she reached for his belt, her finger caught on the lip of his bellybutton. A shower of red and green sparks exploded between them.

"What just happened?" Draco asked, breathless.

"I think you'd better speak to Professor Snape," Araminta offered, and then she ducked out, slamming the door behind her.