Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: This is very AU – we diverge from canon prior to Book 1. At its core, this story explores all our favorite Harry Potter characters and how their lives would unfold in a world where the magical and Muggle are intertwined, with quite a few twists and turns along the way.

I will be updating every Wednesday and Sunday until this story is complete.

I hope you enjoy the ride – I've had a thrill writing it. I'd love to hear any feedback, questions, theories or comments. I'm also on Tumblr at canttouchthis87.

Lastly, thank you to my beta ElizColl for making this readable.

Part 1: Politics

"How could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?" – Plato, Allegory of the Cave, the Republic

Chapter 1

50 kilometers west of Aberdeen – uninhabitable zone

October 8, 2006

Hermione was a mere half-kilometer from her cabin when she recognized a disturbance in the otherwise pristine forest. A black clad figure lay against an old oak tree.

She stepped cautiously towards the figure, a Corps-issued knife gripped in her right hand. She paused, willing her ears to identify the creature, but the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the soft buzz of the insects. A half-foot away she gasped; the figure coming into focus was clearly a man – and dressed in only a robe!

Reaching the stranger, she struggled for a moment to flip the man over, herself clad in a full protective suit. Her eyes went wide - he didn't have a breather on! She removed her backpack and pulled out her emergency apparatus, hastily placing it over the man's mouth and nose. She paused for a moment, her right ear hovering over his lips, and sighed in relief when she heard the telltale sign of breathing.

Immediate worry averted, she looked once again at the man and debated how she was going to manage to get him the half kilometer back to her home. She looked down at her cart, nearly half full with an assortment of samples she meticulously procured in the forest that morning, and with a regretful sigh removed the flora to make space for the man.

The trek back to her cabin was relatively short – she typically trekked for hours, gathering specimens in these woods. She chuckled to herself that indeed this was a unique specimen. As far as she was aware, the closest humans were 50 kilometers to the east of her in Aberdeen. And judging by the state of the man in question – the cleanliness of his robes and lack of sand covering his boots – there was no way this man completed that journey.

This meant he must have come from the west – which made him truly a fascinating subject. She paused on her hike to pull up his right sleeve and her eyes lit up when she saw the wand securely fastened to a holster. She grabbed it – for safety of course, though she had to admit she was very curious. Other than her wizard mentor in the Corps she had never been close with any magicals, but she found them utterly fascinating. She always felt in another lifetime perhaps she would have been a magical, but in this one, she didn't seem to have even a drop of magical ability.

Pulling up his left sleeve confirmed her other hypothesis: there lay the Dark Mark – just as Voldemort described in his book! It sat on his left forearm, barely moving, and she struggled to look away – mesmerized by the magical tattoo. She skimmed her hand inches from his skin but resisted touching it, replacing his sleeve and refocusing on her hike.

Reaching her cabin, she dragged the man into the decontamination shower, a bit concerned when her rough removal of his clothes and the scalding shower failed to elicit a response. She breathed a sigh of relief once she had managed to drag him onto her small couch in the living room – wrapped only in a terry cloth towel. The exertion of the activity wore her down more than she expected, and she made a mental note to adjust her athletic routine accordingly.

She looked at him, his breather removed, and assumed him around her age. Attractive too, she thought, admiring his sharp edges and impossibly blonde hair. He appeared reasonably athletic – though she felt without a wand he was unlikely a threat to her, in spite of his larger size. His skin was smooth – but for a curious shaped scar marking his right shoulder. Hermione had been alone for a long time – her encounters with other people limited to supply runs, their faces typically covered in some sort of breathing apparatus.

Shaking out of her reverie, she dropped his wand into the glass cylinder in her research lab. Immediately, an electronic whirring sound hummed – data from the wand pouring into the nearby computer. Hermione smiled, satisfied, and grabbed the small medical kit before exiting her lab, taking extra care to ensure her lab was secure.

Reentering her living room, she placed a finger beneath the man's nose to confirm he was still breathing, before roughly inserting a syringe in a vein in his right arm and removing 4 vials of blood. Marked and sealed, she shook one of the little vials in front of her face, her eyes failing to identify any differentiating nuances. Fascinating, she thought again, quickly moving to her lab to place one vial in the centrifuge and the others in the refrigerator.

Moving to her desk, she unlocked the bottom right drawer and pulled out her sat phone, calling her Commanding Officer.

"Muncie."

"Captain Muncie – this is Lieutenant Granger. I have – a situation," Hermione started.

"Granger?" She could practically see her CO jolt upright at his desk, perhaps scrambling for his day book. "Your next check in isn't for 5 days."

She rolled her eyes. "I was in the forest – quadrant 3 – when I came across a civilian unprotected on the forest floor. Male, 20's, roughly 6 feet tall, and," she paused a moment, the excitement clear in her voice, "he's a Death Eater. I saw his mark and confiscated his wand."

There was a pregnant pause – Hermione wasn't clear how much of it was Muncie's hesitation rather than the lag inherent to satellite communications. "Status report?" he inquired, his voice the gruff tone one expects from a decorated Corps Captain.

"He's still unconscious but breathing. I applied a breather upon discovery and put him in a decontamination shower. I've started testing on his blood to determine the level of radioactivity." She conveniently did not mention the three additional vials she had taken for later study. "I've removed and secured his wand. I do not believe he represents a threat at this time."

"Understood. Please report back once the civilian is awake."

"Will do sir."

Before returning to her living room, she checked on her ongoing experiments and the status of her analysis of the wizard's wand and blood. Her eyebrows raised upon seeing the wand's compositions. "Hawthorne wood and unicorn hair?" she mumbled aloud. Of course, without additional samples from other wands, her ability to analyze and draw conclusions was negligible.

A soft beeping confirmed the blood analysis was complete. She turned to her printer and grabbed the short stack of papers, her eyes shifting left and right as a puzzle began to form. Fascinating, she thought, grabbing her readers from where they sat atop her keyboard and reviewing the analysis results in depth. She paused, rummaging through another desk to find a particular folder.

"Interesting." She bit her lip as she compared the mysterious wizard's blood to the five samples she had previously been provided. Of course, a sample of five was not sufficient to draw conclusions, particularly given the samples had not been drawn in a controlled environment. Nonetheless, what this new wizard's blood showed went completely against her existing hypotheses! "Unless…" she mumbled out loud, a pen now dangling from her lip as she considered the possibilities.

The blood results did identify that he was suffering from limited acute radiation sickness. His levels were just shy of critical – had she found him even an hour later he would likely not have survived. As it was, he would only require one dose of anti-radiation treatment. Frowning once more at the results, she quickly filed them before returning to the living room with the treatment.

The man shifted slightly on the couch. Hermione guessed he would be awake in a few hours, potentially less. After injecting the anti-radiation treatment into his neck, she realized he was still wearing only a towel. "Oh," she mumbled, reddening on instinct. She grabbed his robe and under things, now fully decontaminated, and placed them on the small coffee table next to the couch. Biting the inside of her cheek, she grabbed a book and sat on a chair in her kitchenette, hoping to distract herself as she waited for her guest to wake up.

Draco grumbled, his head fuzzy as his consciousness slowly floated to the surface. He tried to recall where he was – though the last thing he remembered was his mind growing light as he trekked through never ending woods. Judging by the feel of the surface he currently lay on, he was no longer on the forest floor.

Panic suddenly struck him with his next realization – he was naked and without his wand. He reached down and sighed in relief upon feeling the cloth covering his lower extremities. He was gathering his wits and preparing to open his eyes when he heard a grating voice.

"Good, you're awake," the voice called. He attempted to say something but no words came out – just a soft whine. "Oh, my apologies – of course – you need water." He heard a shuffling and then footsteps approached. "Here," the voice was now right next to him, and he recognized it as distinctly female. "Open your mouth – I promise it's not poison." He obeyed, realizing just how parched his throat and mouth was. He took two large gulps and opened his eyes, taken aback by the slight girl – woman - who couldn't have been much older than him. She put the cup down and seemed to be analyzing him, looking him over and mumbling incoherently to herself.

"My apologies for undressing you – you required a decontamination shower. You suffered from radiation poisoning." She now pointed to the table in front of him. "Get dressed. I'll bring you something to eat." She nodded and abruptly left without waiting for a response.

The brightness of the room was alarming – thick windows covered one wall while the others were painted a light peach. Unimpressive paintings hung sparsely along with a small frozen photo that was too far away to make out more than fuzzy people. Two bookshelves stood – both overflowing – along with a stack of books on the floor between. A small box stood across from where he sat – some Muggle device whose purpose he could not identify.

Sitting up, he took a moment to stretch his limbs, checking for curses or poisons. He frowned – unable to detect anything and not quite sure what that meant. Solving one problem at a time, he got dressed, pleased his clothes appeared clean. Standing, he took another look around, realizing how small the room was and noticing the hallway with two doors to his right.

"Good. You're dressed!" He jumped as he heard the woman come from behind. Turning to face her, he noticed she came out of a rather sad looking kitchen with a small table and a single chair. She carried a plate with a new glass of water and gave him a hesitant smile, gesturing to the small table in front of the couch. He nodded and sat, now wide awake and wary.

He mumbled a brief, "Thank you" before turning to the food – a simple sandwich. It didn't look poisoned, but he wasn't quite sure what a poisoned sandwich would look like. He attempted some wandless magic, his brows furrowed as he felt absolutely nothing.

"Did you do something to me?" he asked, startled when the woman was missing. She returned with the chair from the kitchen, pulling it up to the other side of the coffee table in front of the rectangular Muggle device.

"I found you in the forest – you were in the uninhabitable zone without even a breather! You're lucky to be alive," she explained, shaking her head in disbelief. "Anyways, I brought you here - this is my home. After the decontamination, I gave you radiation treatment and then waited for you to wake up." She finished and then looked at him quizzically, "Why? Is something wrong?"

Draco looked at her suspiciously. "Where are we? Where is my wand?"

"We're nowhere really – 80 squares kilometers of uninhabitable earth. I live here." She shrugged, taking a sip of tea from her mug.

"What do you mean uninhabitable earth?" he asked, confused, heart racing.

"Just what it means. The nuke went off and boom." She made a gesture with her hand. He cocked his head to the right, still not understanding. "Basically, there was a very big bomb. It made it impossible for people to live here."

"Then how do you live here?"

"I only go out in protective gear. And I'm very careful," she explained with a smirk.

"Who are you?"

"Dr. Hermione Granger. Corps Lieutenant." She sat up straight.

He looked at her thoughtfully, his face portraying an array of emotions. She looked at him in continued fascination. "Are you a Muggle?" His tone was accusatory – almost betrayed.

"Sure." She shrugged, "Though really you should call me a non-magical. Muggle has a sort of nasty feel to it."

"You will give me my wand," he demanded.

"I don't think so," she shook her head, clearly amused, "I don't know you - from what I know of your group you all aren't exactly friendly with non-magicals. I'll be holding on to it for the time being."

"Of course you will – are you planning to steal my magic?" His tone was sharp.

"What magic?" she asked, a single eyebrow raised. His eyes went wide and his face red. "It was just fascinating – when you arrived here, I took a vial of your blood and I couldn't identify a single magical protein. But," she paused, her eyes alight, "your antibodies showed clear evidence of magic use. Indicating you had magic but recently lost it – or perhaps the radiation poisoning had an impact. I've never seen anything like it so I'm unable to draw conclusions, but I have a number of hypotheses on the matter."

"So I am your prisoner then," he stated haughtily.

"Of course not." She smiled, "But I would not recommend leaving here – you know – uninhabitable earth." She looked down and frowned slightly. "I promise – I mean you no harm. The sandwich isn't poisoned. I made my favorite – a roast beef with Havarti on rye. You're lucky you got here shortly after a supply run – only time I have roast beef and mayo." She nodded encouragingly.

Draco's stomach audibly growled and he relented, grabbing the sandwich, pleasantly surprised at the first bite.

"Now we're getting somewhere." She smiled, grabbing a small notebook and pen to her side. "Can you tell me your name and why you were in my forest?"

"Draco Malfoy," he told her, quickly finishing half of his sandwich and taking a long gulp of the ice water.

"Well it's nice to meet you Draco. And you are here because?"

"I left home – I thought this was neutral territory," he responded vaguely.

"Well, not quite. No one lives in the 80 km between Death Eater sovereign land and Aberdeen. The land is uninhabitable," she confirmed with a shrug, "were you trying to go to Aberdeen?" she asked.

He looked confused. "I was just – trying to go."

Her eyes were squinted but she shook her head. "I'll give you your secrets for now. But assuming you make it to Aberdeen, my superiors will question you. I don't believe a wizard has left the Death Eaters in over 10 years!" Her eyes once again held deep fascination but she seemed content to leave him be for the moment, putting down her notebook and picking up a book, something called 'Molecular Biology' - a phrase which meant nothing to him.

He was distinctly uncomfortable with the woman, her words a mystery to him, her mannerisms and behavior inconsistent with the women from home and, frankly, inconsistent with what his muggle studies courses would suggest.

'Muggles are first and foremost lesser,' he recalled from his lessons. 'It is an undisputed fact that witches and wizards were gifted powers Muggles cannot comprehend. Muggles fear us. They envy us.' He watched the woman – Hermione – he reminded himself. She sat on her chair, her glasses dangling on the bottom of her nose as her eyes darted across the page.

'When the Muggles found out about us, they sought our destruction. We fought and earned our sovereignty – through our superiority.' He wondered now, looking at the girl, whose eyes showed no fear, who claimed to have saved his life, just what the hell he had gotten himself into.