CHAPTER THREE – The First Day of the Rest of Their Lives

Hermione found herself staring in the mirror unbelievingly, and far longer than she had expected. She was never the type of girl who would spend so much time looking at something she considered as wholly unremarkable as herself. She was never considered vain by any stretch of the imagination. Even this morning, she marvels just at the reflection's significance, not any selfish beauty. The charmed bracelet that Professor Flitwick had provided the night before was truly remarkable.

Lizzie smiled at her from across the room and practically gushed, "It's amazing. You look just like you did the last time I saw you!"

"I suppose that's the point of the charm," Hermione mumbled in reply. The girl… woman staring back at her in the mirror looked familiar, but so very foreign. The bracelet was charmed to make an individual appear exactly as the observer best remembered them. The woman in the mirror was about the same height. The face was older and perhaps more tired. The beginning of lines were fading into place at the corners of her eyes. The hair was still curly, but shorter than she ever remembered it before. Glancing downward the changes were even more extreme.

Hermione slapped her hand across her chest, put off by the seemingly inconceivable growth she would experience across her breasts and at her hips.

"My god, I'm deformed!"

"No you're not," Lizzie reassured with a grin. Before continuing, the Malfoy daughter closed the Transfiguration textbook she had been flipping through and stood up. "Six children will change a woman. I remember Dad once said that if you popped out another one of us, you'd immediately transfigure into Aunt Molly."

"That sounds about cruel enough for Malfoy."

Lizzie pursed her lips and turned her eyes towards the floor. Near silently, she retorted, "He didn't mean anything by it."

Huffing, Hermione turned from her reflection and grasped the other girl's shoulder. "I'm sure you have a wonderful father, but I don't see how the boy I've known for five years can be the same person. I stopped by the library last night and picked up some books on alternate realities and I think—"

"No. He's my dad and you're my mom. I… I know it might seem impossible, but you two always talk about how you never used to get along. But something happened to bring you two together. I mean obviously, look at me standing here. Just wait until you and he are together with all of us. It'll click into place, I sure of it."

Biting her lower lip, Hermione turned back to the mirror and answered, "I wish I was as certain."

The spark of light in the mirror caught her attention. On the reflected image, her hand was adorned with a large diamond ring and a golden wedding band. Hermione reflected briefly on how completely unprepared she was for this charade. She had plenty of experience with a loving mother, but not a caregiver. As far back as she could remember, Hermione was always fiercely independent. She rarely needed help to accomplish any task she set for herself. There was no point of reference for changing diapers or calming a rambunctious three-year-old.

"I don't know how to be a mom."

"Yes, you do. It's all in there, I swear it. You're the best. You always listen and take time out of your schedule for us and… well Dad does too. I promise everything will work out."

Despite the comforting word, Hermione couldn't prevent the involuntary shiver that raced up her body when her… daughter leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. The girl noticed the hesitancy and quickly backed off and decided to wait outside for Hermione.

In another room down the hall, Draco was just as hesitant, but far more agitated. The third year sitting by the window watching the sunrise was perhaps the most unnerving individual he had ever had the misfortune to meet. Well… next to Potter and his crew of morons. Looking in the mirror, it was as if Draco was looking at both the past and this absurd bastardization of the future. The boy sitting behind him in the mirror looked almost identical to himself. The same silver blonde hair and grey eyes, the same unblinking calm demeanor and aloof attitude.

If not for years of conditioning against such behavior, Draco might question the boy openly about how they were pulling off this clever deception. But for now, he would play the situation close to his chest, quietly observing their looks and stories.

The past was far less annoying than the future. How was this supposed to happen to him of all people? The face staring back at him was several inches taller and harsher. Any trace of the gangliness of his youth was long sense destroyed and in the image before him, it had disappeared even more. The man was obviously strong and well-put-together. But the hair was awful. Apparently this fabricated future-Draco liked to wear his hair at about the same length as he did now, but with strands falling in his face. He found himself running his hands through hair that was actually slicked back and smooth, but the image's hair simply ruffled briefly and fell back into place.

"What the bloody hell!"

The younger Malfoy glanced back at Draco, who was staring at a slight scar on his wrist. In a near rage, Draco threw off his cloak and quickly undid his tie and shirt. The mirror image was riddled with scars both front and back. The small scratch at his left wrist actually wound its way up three-quarters of the way up. Several smaller scratches and imperfections adorned his chest. Draco leaned closer and for the first time saw the faint remnant of a scar running down his right cheek.

A brief whimper drew his attention to the boy behind him. The once calm mask was not contorted in sadness and fear, swallowing back tears. Draco turned and wrapped his head around. The mirror image of his back contained just as many random scars as the front, but with the added bonus of remnants from five deep welts on his back.

Looking up at the boy, Draco saw him swallow his sniffling and quietly ask, "So, you aren't really him are you?"

"No. I am definitely not. Which one are you?"

The child stood up from his perch and extended his hand, "Alexander Malfoy."

Rather than taking the offered hand, Draco rebuttoned his shirt and fastened his tie, eyeing the boy with a cool disdain that he had seen offered from Lucius many times in the past. Instead of fearful obedience, the young man slapped his hand over his mouth to suppress a giggle.

"You make the funny face just like my dad does," he said leading the way out into the hallway. For not the first time since this dreadful situation began, Draco felt utterly convinced these could be no children of his. They seemed to have an unsatisfactory lack of respect for their superiors, manners of a common Weasley and the social grace of a mudblood.

Draco turned back to the face in the mirror and narrowed his eyes. Perhaps never before had he seen something look so much like himself that he hated as much. Draco attempted to straighten his tie once again, but the mirror image's remained loose with the top two buttons undone. The face in the mirror formed no more than a tight grimace while Draco's contorted in rage and frustration. Suddenly, the image, now without Alexander's perspective driving it, faded to an accurate image of the current young Malfoy. Taking a calming breath, Draco spoke quietly in his own mind, Just go along for a little while. Mother will send for me and I can take over Father's mission. I can strike back against the old fool, the bastard orphan Potty and the Mudblood. I won't fail the Malfoy line. I will not become that… THAT! Make nice and smile and soon I'll have my wand at their throats.

Finding himself centered and even once again, Draco turned and walked out into the hallway. He could almost feel the illusion taking hold of him and noticed Lizzie and Alex walking towards him. Trailing behind them several paces was Granger, who Draco found himself smirking at as she limped along. Her father gave as good as he got in the Ministry, Draco was sure of it. For all the changes he saw before, she looked the same as always to him.

"Hi, Dad," Lizzie greeted him with a warm smile. Moving aside, she let Hermione step forward and spoke again. "The charms work perfectly. You're just like you should be. The girls and the twins will buy it. I really think this could work!"

Hermione glanced to her right and gasped at the image reflected in the mirror. Hearing her, Draco's head bounced from her to the mirror and despite just over sixteen years of learning to never let other's know what you are thinking, Draco gasped in shock himself.

Each took in the future of the other in a slightly less dignified expression than they had hoped. Hermione for the first time in her entire life looked at Draco Malfoy, or at least the future Malfoy, and honestly found him attractive. He was even taller and stronger in appearance than he was now, but it was far more than just that. The eyes in the mirror matched the color of Malfoy's, but there was something else. And as those eyes moved to the right and surveyed her own form... I didn't think he could look at anything with so much depth and kindness. Even if he looks no more than 40, those eyes… they're older. They've seen so much more in life than he has. What have those eyes lived through? They see me with… love?

Malfoy himself noted Granger more now than he had in the previous five years. Definitely, popped a few urchins out of there. Hmm, not all that bad though. Decent enough ring for a Malfoy, even if the bride is somewhat unacc— Malfoy's father had shown him satisfaction and his mother had fussed over him and Snape had shown him an occasional grudging respect. No human creature had ever had that look in their eyes for Draco Malfoy. If I didn't know Granger like I know Granger, I'd call it adoration, or… love?

"You need to be closer," Alex explained.

"What!" Draco snapped.

Taking a brief step back, the boy continued, "Y-you should… stand closer and well, you hold hands and kiss and well… be Mom and Dad.

As much as Hermione's face paled over, Draco's burned bright red, "Now listen here you little—"

"Quite right, young Mister Malfoy."

Draco bit his tongue to hold the rest of his statement in and turned slightly to face the headmaster. The older man had a very pointed expression for Draco before smiling at the others and remarking, "If we are going to convince the other children you are their parents. We will need you to act the part."

Hermione paled even further, approaching the complexion of a Malfoy while Draco, through gritted teeth, spoke, "Sir, we're… we're students and you can't make us… you can't encourage us to…to… to FRANTERNIZE."

"Malfoy's right," Hermione said, shortly before slapping herself on the forehead for even uttering the thought… for even having the thought to begin with. "I mean… well, we… we don't even like one another."

"Sure you do!" Alex exclaimed. "You two… well, Uncle Harry says its downright disgusting how lovey-dovey you are."

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Draco said, "Who the hell ever told you to listen to what Harry sodding Potter said."

"You did," Alex answered with a cheeky smile.

Hermione thought she heard Draco mutter something along the lines of a request to kill him.

"I promise you all that both the staff and myself will work as diligently as possible to find a way to return the children, but it falls to the two of you to help the younger ones accept this," Dumbledore explained.

"It will go fine," Lizzie added. "Just… please don't hurt them. The parents you become would never forgive any hurt someone causes their kids."

Summoning up all her Gryffindor courage, Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and roughly shoved her hand into Draco's and held on as tight as she could. Overcoming the feelings rising up at the person who was touching him, Draco made a couple of futile attempts to shake his hand free before sighing and looking up at Dumbledore.

"Wonderful," he began, looking far more happy than the two 'parents' standing before him. Turning he led the way down the hall and spoke up, "We have prepared a suite of rooms for you here at school for the summer."

"I told Lucy that you decided to take the whole family to visit Hogwarts," Lizzie added. "But remember, she's incredibly smart and observant. She would even catch on to things the twins would miss. Dad… Draco, you especially have to be incredibly loving and affectionate with her or she'll know something is wrong."

Hermione huffed at the idea of a Malfoy that could be either loving or affectionate and was repaid with the hand she was still holding clenching hers to the point of cutting off circulation.

Dumbledore continued, "You'll find the suite is fully furnished with a private kitchen and living room, full four poster beds for each of the children in their own rooms—"

"Accept the twins," Alex interrupted. "They throw a fit if we try to separate them. But then again, they are Ravenclaws."

"Alex!" Lizzie chastised. "You behave or… well, sooner or later we'll get back and I'll sick Ron on you for not respecting other Houses."

"It's just Ravenclaw, God forbid I try my luck going after Gryffindor," Alex answered. Hermione turned her head and he offered her a wink at his point. The smirk on Malfoy's face ruffled her feathers enough to squeeze his hand to the point of cracking. The line of his mouth tightened as he came back with an equally tight grip.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued and stopped in front of a portrait of an unusually happy sphinx, "the two younger children are on the second level of the suite, just across the hall from your room. Family."

"Our what now?" Draco asked as the sphinx bowed solemnly and the door swung open.

A/N: Thanks again for all of you reading either of my stories, look for more updates in about a week to both of them and please satisfy my unending curiosity of how much my stories rule/suck by reviewing and offering your own two cents. Thanks. And in case you forgot, I do not own Harry Potter.