Disclaimer: Characters belong to JK Rowling. I'm writing for fun.
A/N: Beta thanks to dreamsofdramione! Written for Dramione RomCom 2020. This is a reimagined take on "13 Going on 30!"
4.26.01
Draco was tired.
He didn't know what his past self had done the day before, but he felt exhausted as soon as he opened his eyes.
At least he was alone this time. It made sense, now that he was officially engaged to Astoria. That wild phase of his life was behind him, and truthfully, he didn't miss it. He was looking for more than meaningless one-offs, more than what his marriage had thus far offered, too.
He was also mentally spent. Today made the eighth day he'd woken up in a new year, and he wanted a break from trying to remember the important events of his life, the minutiae of his interactions with Astoria, of pretending. It was nice being around Hermione because he didn't have to do any of that. He could be himself. He only wished he could spend the entire day with her, rather than a few hours at best. But he knew she had her own life, and it was notable, in and of itself, that she kept carving out time to spend with him. Yes, it was one day a year, but he really didn't deserve any notice from her at all.
When he looked at the clock, he groaned. It was almost nine. The bank would be opening in a few minutes, and he wanted to be there first thing so he could make his appointment with Hermione at half past.
Feeling very groggy, Draco forced himself to get up. Even though he desperately wanted to move quickly, his body wasn't cooperating.
At nine-fifteen, he was yawning in line, waiting to exchange a few Galleons so he could pay Hermione back. At least this time, he knew where he was going and could Apparate.
Despite his best efforts, it was still five after their appointed meeting time when he slid into the seat across from her.
"Hi. Sorry I'm late. I never know when I'm going to wake, and apparently I never bothered with alarms."
The smile she gave him was bright. "That's not a problem at all."
Draco set a small pile of gold in front of her. "This is for last time."
Hermione tutted. "I told you not to bother."
"We agreed that you'd pay for breakfast last year and I'd pay this year. But this is for everything else—the taxi, the museum, lunch at the museum." He yawned and glanced around for the server. He needed to order a cup of coffee today, otherwise he didn't know how he'd make it.
"Well, fine." She put the stack into her beaded bag.
The server, Olivia from the last time, arrived then with a warm smile despite her frenzied manner. Oddly, she remembered them, even asked him if he wanted the same thing he'd ordered previously.
"How can you possibly remember?" He didn't bother trying to hide his surprise.
Olivia waved dismissively. "I'm really good with remembering things, and you two are pretty memorable. I don't know why, but there's just something about you." She smiled knowingly. "So, what'll you have?"
Draco took a little longer to order than Hermione; he didn't want the same thing he'd just had the day before, and he hadn't perused the menu much the last time they were there.
"I'll put this in, shouldn't be long." She smiled and hurried off.
"You look tired," Hermione remarked, her eyes washing over his face.
"I am. No clue why. Oh, but wait." He reached into his robes and pulled out his appointment book. "I can look to see what I did yesterday." He found the calendar and saw that he'd been at the office all day, then shopped for a gift for Astoria immediately after, then had dinner with friends. "Probably had a late night. And a bit to drink. I wonder what I bought her."
"What are you supposed to do today?" She tried to peer across the table; he was sure she could read upside down.
"More work. All day." He sighed heavily. "That's what this time in my life was. My father lives in France, since he was banished from England, and he moved a large portion of his operation there. However, he kept a sizable chunk here and once I was out of prison, he set to the task of training me to be in charge." And he'd gone and lost it all, somehow. "That might be why I'm so tired. There was so much to learn, all while also being expected to do the job. I had a lot of late nights." He glanced at the calendar again. "I don't see anything for this evening, though. I'm sure I intended to be at the office. But, for me, it's my last free night on an April 26th." He grimaced. "Next year, I'll be married."
"I'm curious. You've never seemed particularly happy about getting married. Why is that? It's been all over the gossip papers, endless speculation over your match with Astoria Greengrass."
"I hope you don't believe everything you read in those." He scowled.
"Please. I've had quite enough negative attention from such 'publications' over the years. I know they're trash, but that doesn't change the fact that they love to talk about you and Astoria." The food arrived then, and Hermione thanked the server. "I tend to hear the gossip at work whether I want to or not. And your upcoming wedding is quite a popular topic."
Draco leaned forward too, though there was no need. Nobody around them knew or cared who they were. "Want to know the wedding date?"
Her eyes sparkled. "You mean the date that's been the subject of no less than four major arguments in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures just in the last month?" She sat back in her seat and shrugged. "I suppose, if you want."
He laughed, then shook his head. "I absolutely hate it, but she was allowed the right to choose the date. Are you ready?"
Hermione gave him an expectant look. "I don't know! This is an awful lot of buildup. I—" Her eyes went wide. "Wait, you said you'll be married next time I see you, right? So does that mean… No. She wouldn't."
"February fourteenth. Yes." He dragged a hand through his hair, grabbing a fistful at the back and giving a slight yank.
"Why are you so unhappy about getting married, though? Usually it's considered a joyful occasion."
He looked at her intently, trying to decide just how much he could say. "I'm sure I don't really need to say this, but at the same time, I feel like I can't not say it. You'll never repeat anything I say—to her or to anyone, right?"
Before he knew what was happening, Hermione threw a napkin at him. "Don't be stupid. Of course not."
"But I mean, you can't even hint that you know anything. You can't look at her wrong if you see us out together or something."
"Draco, I understand the dangers of messing with time. You don't have anything to worry about that from me."
"All right. I know that, but I had to get that out of the way anyway." He took a deep breath and a long drink from his coffee, then resituated himself so that he'd be more comfortable. "I never told you much about the circumstances that led up to me finding myself in third year, just in time to get slapped by you. I couldn't possibly risk it. Now that the war is over, though, I feel a little more prepared to share a few small details. One important one being my marriage is basically arranged. One last duty to the Malfoy name—well, that and having a son."
Her eyes went wide. "Arranged? Oh, I see. I'm… truly sorry. That sounds awful. I take it, then, that you and Astoria never became… close?"
"That's an understatement. Our marriage has been a farce almost since the beginning, and as soon as I get out of this time mess, I'm divorcing her. April 26th is her birthday. On that same day I found myself jumping through time, I'd paid an unexpected visit to my office and found her… Well, let's just say I'll never touch my desk again."
Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "No! Was she… with someone?"
"She was. I don't know if it was the first time or the hundredth, but there was a timed Fidelity Clause in our marriage contract, and she wouldn't have been able to break that, so for ten years, she was faithful—technically. That special Clause ended in February, just two and a half months before I found her." Hermione's eyes were still wide. He waved a hand. "Don't worry. I assure you, I suffered no personal pain over it. A divorce will be very public, and considered scandalous in our circles, but I couldn't care less. I'm quite tired of living my life according to someone else's plan."
"Did you ever love her?" she asked hesitantly.
"No. But I was never unkind to her. She knew what she was getting into, we both did, and she agreed to all the terms. There was a period of time, at the beginning, when we were trying to conceive, and then during her pregnancy and right after my son's birth where I thought maybe I could learn to love her, but she made it very clear that she wasn't interested."
Hermione was quiet for a long while, her expression thoughtful. "I hope you find something better, then. When you get back to your time."
"Thank you."
Neither of them felt the need to speak. Draco immersed himself in the sounds of the café around him: other patrons talking, dishes clinking, soft, nondescript music playing gently in the background. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Hermione spoke.
"So, what do you want to do on your so-called last night of freedom?"
Draco laughed. "Well, it's not really. I am quite married, I'm afraid. Though hopefully not for much longer."
"I suppose, after this year, you'll be less available on April 26th. Especially since it's her birthday." There was a hint of sadness in Hermione's eyes as she spoke, but she masked it quickly and returned her focus to her food.
The realization hit him like a weight in the pit of his stomach. "Oh, yeah. Right."
"We should celebrate, then. Do something. Are you seeing her tonight?"
"No. She's at Hogwarts—although, right, I saw her last year. No, since we're officially knee-deep in being engaged, if I remember correctly, I arranged to have a very elaborate gift delivered today, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that she was mine." He rolled his eyes. "It was my mother's idea."
"Is she happy about Astoria?"
"Now? Or before we were married?"
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I want to know both?"
"She was very pleased and thought Astoria was a lovely choice. Now, she regrets that I don't have the kind of marriage she has with my father. Their's was an arrangement as well, but they bonded and grew to love each other. To be in love, even." Draco hadn't seen his father in years; he should go visit him. Lucius would need to be informed about the company, and probably better to hear it from his son than from some newspaper.
"So, about tonight… What would you do if you could do anything you wanted? Anything at all?"
Draco's gaze darted to hers. The question caught him off guard, though his mind instantly started providing him with ideas for his answer. All of them involved her in some way, and most featured her very, very naked. He coughed, turning away to hide his violent blush. Though, this Hermione wasn't his Hermione yet. She was closer than before, and every day he saw her, he could see the hints of who she would become, but she wasn't there yet.
"Oh, um, well, now that I think about it, I am rather tired. Something nice and quiet, I think." They were finished with their food and lingering over their nearly empty drinks. Draco knew he needed to leave soon, but it was impossible to work up the motivation.
Hermione nodded. "Let me think about it. I've got to go though. I'll owl you? Oh! We forgot to discuss the book! Maybe we'll remember to do it tonight.."
Draco tried to suppress his smile. "Ah, yes, that sounds good."
She motioned for the server to come over and asked for the bill, handing over her credit card as soon as the server produced it. Then she turned to Draco with a very determined expression on her face.
"Okay, I'm just going to ask. I've been going back and forth in my mind for the last fifteen minutes or so, ever since you told me what's going to happen with Astoria in the future, and I know it's so dangerous to mess with the timeline, but here goes." She paused and took a deep breath. "Do you want me to tell your past self not to marry her?" She avoided looking directly at him. "Knowing what's coming for you, knowing that you're miserable with her… if you want, I'll try and talk to you, talk you out of it."
Draco's eyes widened. "There's no telling what that would do to the future! I'm surprised at you, Granger."
She blushed slightly.
"And as much as I appreciate your concern, and I absolutely mean that, I have to decline." He gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, pondering his words. "My son, he's… everything to me. I'll gladly, willingly go through life with her if I get him. But thank you."
She nodded, appearing relieved at his answer. He was struck by the notion that she had been willing to disrupt the timeline—or at least, contemplate it—for him. The realization made his heart swell, and he was anxious to get back to his own timeline so he could move forward with his life. He refused to even consider that things wouldn't return to normal.
They stood and Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder. "You called me Granger just now. Did you notice?"
He laughed as he held the door open for her. "I didn't notice. I think it was your offer of meddling that reminded me of your past mischief. I always admired that side of you, though grudgingly."
Hermione led him back to the same alley they'd Disapparated from the year before. The same dumpster was there, and they hurried to hide behind it. Pressed against the brick wall again, with their shoulders touching, neither seemed in a hurry to actually leave.
A car honked on the street, jolting him back to reality. He chuckled nervously. Merlin, he'd wanted to kiss her. But that wouldn't do.
"Well, goodbye." Hermione stepped away abruptly and gave him a half smile.
Draco swallowed hard. "Right. Yes. I'll await your owl."
She waved and Disapparated.
He let out a long breath. The concept that it was his last night before getting married, despite being completely untrue, had worked its way into his brain. For an instant, he'd thought about kissing her.
Even if he hadn't been actually married, kissing someone other than his fiancée would be a mistake. But he was actually married, so acting like he was only engaged made no sense, and—gah, everything was so muddled.
The truth was, he was confusing his attraction to Scorpius's favorite teacher with the Hermione of the past. She was the same, but she wasn't quite.
Upon further thought, he wondered whether he ought to cancel their currently unformed plans for the evening. Or rather, when she sent an owl about it, he could write back saying he was unavailable. It seemed wise.
But he was also selfish and wanted to spend more time with her. As he went through the rest of his day, he waffled back and forth in his mind about what he should do, finally deciding, as the work day came to an end, that he would accept. He could control himself, for Merlin's sake. He wanted their association to continue through the coming years—days—so he wouldn't risk jeopardizing that.
In the end though, all of his wrestling didn't matter. Her owl arrived shortly after he made his decision, and the note attached said she'd have to cancel—something had come up. But she suggested they meet again the following year, same place and same time.
Draco was disappointed but also somewhat relieved. He sent a reply back with the owl confirming for the next year.
He imagined Hermione writing it in her calendar, and that gave him the idea of blocking off April 26th in his own planner. That way, even though his past self wouldn't know why the square had a large X on it, hopefully he would leave it alone. At least that way, he might have a whole day free next year.
Then, curious, he decided to check on the account he'd opened the year before. Thankfully, Gringotts was open for an extra hour after other businesses typically closed for the day to allow people to execute transactions before the next day. The line was long, but he had nowhere else to be.
To his delight—though, not his surprise—the pile of gold in the new vault was just what it should be.
Draco decided then to take a walk in Muggle London. He didn't want to run into anyone magical, and he wasn't ready to go home. He left through the Leaky Cauldron, turned right, and just started walking.
ooo
4.26.02
The bed beside him moved, and he felt someone get up. He heard the swish of fabric as Astoria slipped into a robe and tiptoed from the bedroom.
Draco pretended to be asleep until she'd gone. He'd not really remembered that they'd once shared a room and slept in the same bed. It had made it convenient whenever they'd wanted to have sex—an heir was absolutely required—but everything about it had always felt so cold. So empty. Sharing his life, his body, with a stranger who he happened to live with.
When he decided he could no longer simply lie around, he sat up. He was in her room—rather, the room they'd shared at the start of their marriage, which became hers alone after Scorpius was born. He'd never been comfortable inviting her into his space; this was his home, where he'd grown up, so certain rooms belonged only to him.
He lay in bed, thinking about the day before him. There were two things he knew for certain: it was Astoria's birthday, and he probably had to work. But he'd had the forethought to mark today off in his calendar, so he hoped his past self had abided by the seemingly arbitrary time off. Though, if anything, it could easily be explained as taking time off to celebrate with his wife.
What rubbish.
He'd been in charge of Malfoy Industries for over a year and a half at this point, and he remembered being constantly frustrated by his father's business practices. There weren't many records, which was useful for plausible deniability, but it was a great hindrance for trying to understand how things ran. It would be another two full years before Draco finally felt settled and in control. He knew there were plenty of people, especially the older employees, who'd never liked his updates, but the company had started to really perform in the last four years. Draco had been very proud of the turnaround.
However, nobody had ever asked him if he wanted this role; it had always simply been assumed. He'd never taken the time to consider what he might do if he had been allowed to follow his own path. He was fairly certain he had no idea where that path even led.
It was almost eight. He was supposed to meet Hermione around half past nine, but he'd need to get to the bank again. First, however, he needed to view his memory of the day to be sure that he could replicate everything he did for Astoria's birthday in the past.
After getting dressed, he found the Pensieve he'd used before to see how his day would go. He went pink when he saw Astoria pull him in for a kiss in the breakfast room as he was leaving for work—a kiss that led to him taking her right there on the table. He watched carefully to be sure he could repeat the performance exactly as he'd done before. When it was over, his heart was racing—he was a man after all.
Draco tried to remain calm. It didn't matter that he didn't love her, he could do this. He'd done it plenty of times before. At this point in their marriage, they had shagged relatively frequently. They'd only been married two and a half months, after all, and Astoria had been single-mindedly focused on getting pregnant. He'd once thought that possibly, she truly enjoyed being with him.
The difference now was that it had been a long time since he'd slept with his wife. She'd closed herself off to him almost immediately after finding out she was pregnant. That had greatly soured Draco's attitude toward her; he'd started to think they might be able to build something.
Something else occurred to him: if he did have sex with Astoria, it would be another opportunity for her to get pregnant. But if she got pregnant today, she wouldn't conceive Scorpius in December. Obviously, his past self hadn't gotten her pregnant, but he wasn't going to take any risks. He'd need to use a spell his father had taught him for just such an occasion. As his father had told him, some long dead wizard had created a spell that would allow him to sleep around without any consequences. This spell came in handy particularly amongst the pureblood wizards obsessed with blood purity. The spell wasn't widely known anymore; it had been passed down from father to son over the generations, and if ever a family had no sons, there was no need to continue the tradition. It was never written down or put into any books because they didn't want just anybody to have access to it.
Typical.
He would have to cast the spell just before his release, and he'd have to do it without alerting Astoria. He didn't think it would be an issue, though it had been some time since he'd used it.
Draco took a few deep breaths and mentally prepared himself, then went to the breakfast room. In his memory, he made a cup of tea, and he would take it with him to Diagon Alley.
Astoria smiled up at him over a plate of eggs and kippers. "Good morning, Draco."
"Morning." He kissed her cheek reflexively, then set about preparing his tea.
"Aren't you going to sit?" She patted the chair beside her.
"I've got to get to work. Running a bit behind." Two lumps of sugar and a dollop of cream went into a travel cup. He'd seen Muggles with them and thought them a brilliant idea. He turned around and smiled. "But Happy Birthday, Astoria."
She smiled demurely. "Thank you. Don't forget, we've got dinner with my parents tonight."
"Of course. I'll be there." He leaned down to kiss her goodbye.
She let him, but then slid her hands around his neck, pulling him down toward her.
Draco focused on making sure that he treated her exactly as he'd done in the Pensieve. It wouldn't do to be more or less attentive; he needed the timeline to stay intact to ensure that he didn't screw anything up about his son's conception.
Once they'd finished and righted their clothes, Astoria couldn't stop blushing and avoided looking at him. It was quite a contrast to what he'd witnessed between her and Theo, but he really didn't want to spend any more energy on that subject.
"I'll see you tonight." He kissed her again quickly and hurried from the room. His thoughts were a bit muddled after their shag, but it hadn't taken too long; he still had plenty of time to be at the bank when it opened.
ooo
"I'm actually on time." Draco dropped into the empty chair at what he'd unofficially labeled 'their table.'
Hermione looked up from her book and gave him a strained smile. "So you are. Work and life going well this year?"
He shrugged and picked up the menu. "Yesterday I saw a dish I wanted to try. I've brought my own tea, but maybe I'll order another cup later." Running his finger along the menu, he frowned. "I don't see it."
"It's been a year, you know." She sipped from her own cup. "They might not sell it anymore."
"That's disappointing." He made his selection so that he'd be ready when the server came. "At least I've been sleeping well lately."
Hermione shifted awkwardly in her seat. "Yes, now that you're married. How's that?"
Draco peered at her curiously. "I've told you how it is."
She waved her hands at him. "But you're quite… chipper this morning. Perhaps you'd forgotten how well marriage suits you."
He rolled his eyes. "My mood has nothing to do being married this year versus not last year. It's only been a day for me, remember?" The server had set down a plate of small crepes and Draco stabbed one with his fork. Though, perhaps he was feeling so upbeat because of his tryst with Astoria. It certainly hadn't meant anything, but he wasn't about to tell Hermione about it. "I simply feel well-rested this morning. What about you? How are things at the Ministry? I never really kept up."
"To be honest, it's…" Hermione let out a sigh. "It's not what I thought it would be. I've been here over three years, and I don't think I've done anything of significance. I thought… Well, I expected I'd be able to craft legislation that would truly benefit not just other magical species but us, as well. I don't think it's good for wizards to believe that they are at the height of the magical food chain."
Draco didn't know much of anything about what Hermione did before she left the Ministry to start the school. "I'm sorry to hear that it's been frustrating. I know that, at this point in my life, I was feeling a lot of resentment toward my father for thrusting the company on me without even really asking. Do you want to tell me more? Maybe I can be a sounding board. I'd be happy to toss ideas around with you, help you think through issues, or at the very least, give you explanations for why those old codgers are so stuck in their ways."
"Oh, that—" Excitement flared on her face, but then she seemed to dim before him. "I don't… maybe. I'm not sure there's time today. I've got to be at work by ten thirty."
"All right. Last year, I had the idea to schedule today off for myself. When I get into the office, I'll check and see if I followed through." He grinned, popping a piece of crepe into his mouth.
She didn't respond except to give him a tight smile. Then she pulled the book out of her bag, the one with the fairy tale. "Speaking of carrying ideas from one year to the next, we never got to talk about the story."
Draco blinked, surprised at her demeanor. Had he done something to offend her? "You want to talk about the book?"
"Yes. I think it's important. We didn't manage to do it last year, and I really think it could mean something. Let's talk about practicalities, shall we? What did you think of the fairy tale?"
Draco frowned, remembering the story he'd read two days before. "The main character, Portia, had a dream where she experienced the lives of various people from her life, especially her family, living as a different person every day. She learned a lot about herself and her family, about why her parents and grandparents had made some major decisions. After the dream, she went on to live a very ordinary life." He shrugged. "It was a neat story, and I see similarities to my experience, but you're right, it isn't the same. I'm not sure if it has any connection."
Hermione let out a deflated sigh. "I had hoped that your magical background might have given you some insight I couldn't have seen." Then some of her energy and interest seemed to return. "I'm not ready to dismiss it completely. After all, if I learned anything from Beedle the Bard, it's that tales in the magical world can have significance beyond a first glance. Or a thirtieth glance. And Portia came back! She wasn't stuck going through this forever."
"I don't think I'll be doing this forever, either. I've thought about that a little. Maybe it's just wishful thinking. If this does continue, then I won't have terribly long before it ends." He grimaced slightly.
"What do you mean?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Because at one year a day—at most, I've got, what, another one hundred years or so? That would only take me a few months to get through before there's nowhere else to go."
Hermione sucked in a breath. "Oh, I don't think so! What could do that? I've talked with my contact in the Department of Mysteries a handful of times over the last few years, and she doesn't know of anything that could cause this particular situation. Once you're clear of it, she's going to want to interview you."
"I don't fancy being experimented on." Draco shuddered. "I've heard too many horror stories of things happening to people when they've worked with Mysteries."
She laughed. The sound eased his anxiety and drew a smile from him.
"I don't blame you." Her smile, the first real, true smile he'd seen from her today, was dazzling. Her eyes were shining as she looked at him, and his answering grin grew. After a moment, however, she faltered and looked back down at the book, though he could tell she wasn't really looking at it.
Without really thinking, he reached over and put his hand on her arm. "Hey, Hermione? Is, uh, everything okay?" She looked at his hand on her arm, staring at it without speaking. After a moment, he withdrew, feeling distance spring up between them.
"Everything's fine." She cast him a quick half-smile. "It's just that, you came to me… what, eight years ago, asking for my help, and I've really done nothing to help you." She kept skimming the pages of the story as though something new might pop out. "I mean, I've done quite a lot of reading, and speaking with my Mysteries contact. I'll try to do better this year." She closed the book and returned it to her bag, then waved the server over.
Draco had the distinct impression that something was off about their whole interaction. "You don't have to do anything, Hermione. Just because I asked you eight years ago doesn't mean you're required to do it. That was before I knew I'd jump through time. Please. If you want to stop, then stop."
The server came and Hermione handed her card over without even looking at the bill. Draco pulled a few Galleons out of his pocket and gave them to Hermione. They looked at each other, and he felt like all the air had been sucked out of the café, all the sounds silenced—everything stopped while he waited for her to give him a response.
Finally, Hermione cleared her throat and looked away, continuing to prepare herself to leave.
"No. I want to do this." She gave him a smile, small but genuine. "Shall we meet again next year? Same time? Same place?"
Draco let out a sigh of relief. "Yes. Same time, same place. Half nine is perfect, as it gives me time to get to the bank first if I need to."
She stood and pushed in her chair. "All right. I'll… I'll see you next year, Draco." With a slight wave, she spun on her heel and walked away.
Draco watched her go, feeling an odd mix of relief and worry. She was going to help him, but really, the help wasn't all that important to him. He'd mostly given up the idea of trying to solve the mystery of what was happening, resigned to simply survive the ride. But Hermione, it would seem, had put a considerable amount of effort into the problem, so he decided to spend the rest of the day in the library at the Manor. There were hundreds of old books in there, some of which were the only copies in existence. Maybe he'd find something he could share with her. If he did, he'd send an owl before the end of the day.
But there was something else, something in the way she'd seemed to hold back today. Maybe she was growing tired of him but her stubborn nature wouldn't let her give up trying to solve the mystery. How could he make her see that it was okay if she wanted to stop?
He got up to go and was halfway to the door when the server called after him.
"Sir!"
Draco turned back to see the server hurrying after him.
"You forgot these." He held out his hand and Draco presented his palm. The server dropped the gold coins in his hand with a chuckle. "Those are some funny tokens."
"Thank you." Draco looked down to see the Galleons he'd given to Hermione. She'd left them for some reason. He closed his hand around them and went outside to Apparate.
ooo
Thank you for reading! Hope you're enjoying it!