Chapter 5

Hermione didn't know what to do, now that Draco Malfoy had not in fact dissolved into hysterical fits and started yelling at her for being a Mudblood who stole his wife. She did not know how to deal with a sensible and reasonable Draco Malfoy, who, upon discovering the reasons behind her sudden dislike for the Manor and general fear of him as a person, reacted as if he simply could not blame her.

In fact, it was almost as if he was an entirely different person, which is what the version of herself in the back of her mind had been telling her for some time now. Hermione was apparently going to have to be alright with being wrong. She never would have imagined any version of Draco Malfoy would accept her and love her as she was, but that was precisely the life she was living right now. She would not break her promise to her other self, because she was correct. Scorpius would not be paying the price for this strange turn of fate.

Ultimately, both versions of Hermione were still the same person, though they might make different choices based on their different experiences. That's who we people are after all. A person is a congregate of all the decisions, choices, and experiences they have lived. A person will change when going through something difficult, just as much as they will when faced with great joy. A person is not a singularly faceted thing, a person will always have many sides and they will have a depth to them.

It's entirely possible that Hermione had simply never seen the hidden depths of Draco Malfoy's personality. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she thought it was incredibly likely she'd never seen him as who he truly was. Draco Malfoy, even at eleven years old, had had unimaginable pressures and expectations set upon him. He had been taught nothing but hatred and prejudice by his father, and his mother taught him to be better when she could, though Narcissa was just as trapped as Draco.

*Memory*

Hermione Granger, at thirteen years old, finally concluded that maybe, just maybe, she needed to look a little deeper at those around her. Everyone presented themselves as they would like to be seen, or how they were comfortable being seen. It did not necessarily mean that it was the truth of the person. In fact, this line of thought lead her to believe the opposite, that it was the least truthful version of the person in question. Hermione had never seen reason to hide deeply behind a façade in her early years at Hogwarts, but she had learned, eventually, that it was easier to do the things she needed to do if people weren't always looking at her and mocking her.

Hermione learned to hold her tongue, keep her hand on her desk, and hide her true brilliance from anyone who was truly paying attention. She needed the truth of who she was hidden from these people if she was going to be able to tolerate their snide remarks and bullying. No, she would not give them the satisfaction. She simply would not, and in hiding herself and escaping their notice, she gained a far better insight into who those around her truly were.

She remembered sitting in the Great Hall, feigning reading a book, while in fact she was studying all the other students. She would surreptitiously peek from the corners of her book to look at the faces of people who didn't think they were being watched. She noticed that more than any other house, Slytherin house-mates were not friendly with one another, not like other houses were. They all seemed sad and lonely.

Hufflepuffs were loyal, they were friendliness personified, but she also witnessed the ruthlessness the house possessed when one of theirs was wronged and needed to be avenged. Hermione would not be underestimating the Puff's like everyone else seemed to. No, that was not wise.

She witnessed the Ravenclaw's were constantly studying. They were friendly enough with one another, sure, they helped one another. But they were somewhat apart from the rest of the houses. Truly neutral in a way that the other house was not, or could not be.

Of course, her house, her Gryffindor's were loud and boisterous. They were not ones to miss a party, but nor were they ones to miss a fight. Hermione perceived her house to be rowdy, but loving, and brave. What some lacked in intelligence they made up for with their other strengths. It wasn't an easy house to be in, but they were like family like the Puff's were family, they were brave like only those who had experienced true fear could be, and they were as aloof as the Slytherin house when they felt slighted.

Hermione had watched and observed that the Professor's at the front of the Great Hall were worried and wary. She had watched them eye one another and watch the windows and doors as if something were about to come alive in the Hall and eat them all. Perhaps it would be the Hall itself. Hermione was not yet aware that the madman who had escaped Azkaban was rumored to be in Hogsmeade. Hermione hadn't seen the paper or heard the whispers, but she had seen something was amiss. She could feel the undercurrent of unease slinking across her skin as if it would seek to poison her, too. But she would not allow it, no, she was far too busy trying to track everyone else's secrets.

Dean and Seamus were glancing at one another secretly, from time to time. Generally, that meant something was going to explode sooner rather than later. They had hidden their smiles and been far too quiet this morning. Yes, they were absolutely up to something. Hermione cast impervious charms upon herself and her book silently, along with a protego for good measure. She didn't feel like trudging back up to the tower after breakfast and then coming all the way back down to the dungeons for Potions because the two pyromaniacs in her house had decided to blow up some cake or other. No, thank you.

Harry had been anxious and on edge since he had showed up at the beginning of term, and Hermione couldn't think of a way to ease his worry. He had been trying to break himself out of it, and Hermione hoped getting him over to Hogsmeade might have helped his mood. OF course, this was before she knew that Sirius Black was his godfather, and that he had apparently broken out of prison because he'd seen a picture of a three toed rat. Hermione thought, at this point, Sirius was determined to kill Harry Potter. Hermione, being who she was, refused to let that pass.

Ron had been right next to Harry since school had begun, and Hermione approved of the action. Regardless of how Harry could lash out when he was in pain or anxious, he needed his friends around him, and he needed them to understand him. Hermione hadn't been intruding when Harry and Ron had a chance to chat, because she had sensed her logic would not be useful to this particular situation. Not until they were ready to hear it, and they simply were not. Hermione knew them both well enough to see they weren't going to be able to see reason, not when one of them was terrified and the other was enraged. Of course, she would always be there when they needed her, but Hermione had put away emotions and hidden herself behind her logic. She would not lash out the way they would, and they would be upset with her about it.

Draco Malfoy sat at the Slytherin table, facing the Gryffindor table. From what she could make out from here, things appeared to be as normal. Though, Hermione could see a tension that was not usually present in Draco Malfoy. His easy confident demeanor seemed to be harder for him to effect today, as if he found it all so very tiresome and he would rather be anywhere else. Secretly, Hermione agreed with him. She would not wish to sit amongst the snakes and be in a similar position to Draco Malfoy right now, or really ever.

Hermione pulled herself up from the table, having finished her breakfast. Not two seconds later, there was a loud BANG. Hermione turned back around to her classmates and saw everyone was covered in assorted food items. Hermione rolled her eyes and went to class.

The less she had been noticed, the more she had been able to eavesdrop on from her fellow students. Of course, it wasn't as if she had been doing it a purpose, but they simply ignored her more often than not now. Before they used to corner her in the hallways and tease her about her hair or her teeth. Now, they seldom bothered to send snide remarks her way unless something else drew their attention to her. She stayed out of the way, she studied them all, and she was still top of the class.

Hermione had been sitting in the library later that night, reading through an advanced Transfiguration textbook in an alcove seldom used. It was then she realized that people had begun to simply speak around her, as if she was unnoticeable. Not necessarily invisible, per se, but it was as if as long as she could stay quiet and not draw attention to herself, they wouldn't see her. It was the same sort of magic which made sitting in a dark car and having a conversation with a boy so titillating and freeing. If you move the wrong way or say the wrong thing, you'll break the spell.

Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott sat in an alcove across from her, speaking softly. Maybe it was acoustics combined with the quietness in the library, but Hermione was able to make out what they were saying, for the most part. They were discussing things that she'd never thought to hear of, and it was then she learned that nothing and no one was immune from hurt and parental pressures. Malfoy was speaking quietly with Nott about what had gone on over the summer, of what his parents had told him.

Lucius Malfoy was certain the Dark Lord was set to return, and he had told Draco in no uncertain terms that he would be expected to follow him the same as his father. Evidently his mother and father had fought about it all summer. Narcissa didn't want her son anywhere near Voldemort, and Lucius refused to remove them from his lives. He was determined that Draco would be one of the Death Eaters, and Draco didn't feel he had a choice. He didn't see a way out of it, and he was terrified.

Nott essentially echoed Malfoy's experiences and sentiments, except he didn't have a mother to fight for him. He was at the complete and exacting malicious will of his father, and he would not find a way out of it. They were terrified thirteen-year-old boys who had no choice with their lives, because their parents were determined to see them under the thumb of a madman. Hermione felt like weeping for them.

She must have made some small noise or movement, because both Malfoy and Nott had looked up at her then, to see her hidden in the alcove and looking at them intently. She wasn't sure what her face was showing at the moment, but if she had to guess, it was despair. Despair for the profound loss of innocence and lack of caring these two boys had experienced from their parents. It was wrong. Parents were supposed to shield and protect you from the horrors of the world.

Hermione had expected them to show outward dislike and disdain towards her. She had been listening to their conversation, after all. It didn't matter she hadn't meant to. She had still heard every word they had spoken, witnessed every fraught moment of fear chasing across their faces. What she had seen when they'd noticed her was not disdain or haughtiness, but instead a softness reflected in their eyes and countenance. They knew she had heard, and they couldn't do anything about it. They showed her with their faces and actions, whether they knew it or not, that they wanted to be different than they were forced to be.

Hermione vowed then, to remember what she had seen. Malfoy and Nott gave her a small nod of acknowledgment and left the library shortly thereafter. It wasn't for several minutes after they had gone, she felt the cooling tears on her face. She hadn't even noticed she had been crying for them. She might be best friend to The-Boy-Who-Lived, and she might be a Muggle-born, but at least she knew she was loved. She had no doubt if she told her parents everything that had happened in the Wizarding world, they would demand she leave it behind her so she would be safe. They wanted her safe and happy. Neither Draco Malfoy or Theodore Nott could say the same.

*Current*

Hermione came to herself standing inside the Floo grate at the Chateau, and she shook her head to pull herself out of the memory she had been lost in. She found it much easier, even with that one memory, to see why the Hermione of this timeline had decided to help Draco Malfoy. He had not tormented her so, and she had seen the truth behind the façade he had no choice but to hold into place.

She forced herself to move out of the grate and ponder this later. She was about to "meet" her son. Hermione could sense that she and her other self were melding together, less like two pieces of a whole they had been originally. She knew it would take some time to settle into this new life, this new version of herself, but what else could she do?

The Draco Malfoy in this time was both the same and different from the man in hers. How had they gotten here? How did they come together as a couple, how did they come to love one another enough to be married and produce a Malfoy heir? Hermione shook her head again and went to find Severus and Luna. She needed company, else her mind was likely to pull her back into memories, and she'd plenty to think on for now.

The Chateau was always one of her favorite places. It was light and airy. The walls may as well have been glass with how many windows there were. It was done in tasteful neutral colors, and accented with brightness, as if to bring the sunshine from outside, in. Hermione could use some sunshine. She could use a lot of sunshine.

Although she had died but days ago, and that she had been in the middle of a war and seen so many friends die, she had survived. She was here and now, not then and there. There were moments where she had to actively fight her instincts not to point her wand at anything that made noise. She was having horrendous nightmares, but sometimes they were broken up by lovely memories of the life she had experienced in this time.

That's not to say it was all smiles and laughter, here. No, she had seen death and destruction here too. She had seen cruelty and she had seen malice, but instead of focusing on the darkness surrounding her, she'd been able to find light. She'd been able to have hope, the whole time, that something would go right and they would win in the end. She'd never had that assurance in the then and there. She'd hoped, she'd wished, but she was always certain her best friends were going to die and it had subdued her. Her months on the run had subdued her. Something about this time had given her an anchor, and she had remained herself regardless of the horrors witnessed. And she had managed to fall in love. Somehow.

Sev and Luna in a sitting room a little way down the hall. They were sitting close together on a chaise and talking quietly with one another. They hadn't seen or heard her enter the room, so she took a moment to do what she did best, she studied them. Sev had his hand on top of one of Luna's, and he was openly smiling at her. Hermione hadn't thought anyone other than herself, Draco, and Scorpius were privileged to see that smile. Something had been happening right beneath her nose with these two, but she couldn't be upset about it. It made her happy to see it, actually.

Hermione knocked on the door frame to announce she had arrived. "Draco and Scorp should be here really soon."

"Good, I've missed him," Luna beamed.

Hermione smiled back at her best friend and could see subtle changes in her demeanor. Something about Severus anchored her, too. Something about his hand on hers brought absolute joy out in her friend, and it was written all over her face for any to see.

"How are we handling this where he is concerned?" Of course. Leave it to Sev to be pragmatic and draw attention away from himself.

"I'm not telling him anything. I'm still her, but I'm also me. I've got memories and thoughts that will help me, but I won't scare him because it might make this transition easier for me. If I get lost or don't know what to do, I'll fade into the background so the Hermione he knows best can come to the forefront. I'm not sure how much longer we will be able to do that, though, so I'd like to find a way to be his Mum," Hermione said quietly. She could admit to herself, even if only ever to herself, that she would like to live the life before her.

"You are his Mum," Luna said, tone brooking no argument. "You will see when he gets here, it's not so hard as all that."

"She's right, Mi. You've always doted on the younger children at Hogwarts, and this will be no different for you. He's your son, and he is easy to love," Sev said seriously.

Hermione could only nod at them and hope they were right. Circe, this version of herself didn't know how to be a Mum, but she was going to figure it out. She was going to be a good Mum, and a good partner to Draco. She would not destroy their lives, not if she could help it.

"You will not hurt them. You are me and I am you. We are the same. I will help you in the beginning, and you'll see for yourself. We are the same person, and they will love you just as they love me," the thought came unbidden, but she was thankful for it. Hermione grinned.

"So how long has this been going on?"

"Oh, for quite some time, actually. I'm shocked it took you this long to notice," Luna replied offhandedly, twining her fingers through Severus' like it was an old hat.

"Maybe I noticed but was wary of bringing it to your attention. Maybe, I wanted you two to be ready to tell me," Hermione prodded.

"Well, we're telling you now, Mi. We've been seeing each other for a few months since Luna started helping me find some of those rarer ingredients. She was always out hunting something or other in the wilderness and brought me fresh ingredients. It's still somewhat new, but I'm happy," Sev commented. He smiled. He said outwardly he was happy. He had actually volunteered information about his personal life.

"Hell has officially frozen over, and I am incredibly happy for you both. You deserve joy," Draco said from behind her. Hermione jumped a little when he wrapped an arm around her waste, but she relaxed and leaned back into him. Then she felt a tiny hand on her leg, and looked down into the eyes of her son.

Scorpius was a beautiful little boy. He had a mop of curly, silver blond hair on his head, and dark grey eyes. The shape of his eyes and mouth all came from Hermione, but the rest was Draco. He was a strange mashup of the two of them in truth. She took her son's hand and knelt in front of him, opening her arm for a hug.

"Hi, Mum," he said softly into her ear.

"Hello there, little man. How was your sleepover?"

"Aunt Ginny let us play 'uid-itch!"

"She did what?!"

"Relax, love. With a set for kids," Draco said laughing at her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and decided to let it go for now. "Who won the game?"

"We-ell, it wasn't a reeeal game," Scorpius said, drawing out his words.

"Oh well, that's alright as long as you all had fun, isn't it?" Hermione asked seriously, though she couldn't help but smile.

"Yep! Muddy!"

"Of course, my child loves to be dirty," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes.

"You'll get used to it," Hermione quipped back. She squished Scorpius into her side and kissed his cheek.

"Go see your Aunt Luna, and Uncle Sev," Hermione instructed, releasing him. She stood up and turned around to watch Scorpius jump up on the chaise between his godparents, a smile on his face.

Draco's hand found it's way down to hers, touching gently as if asking if this was okay. Hermione twined her fingers with his, and flashed a grin at him before looking back toward her son.

Scorpius was happily chattering away to Severus and Luna about all the trouble he had gotten into at the Potter's, and Hermione could only look upon the scene with a quiet tenderness.

Draco pulled her back into him, so he could hug her. She whispered quietly, so only he could hear her. "I remembered about the library today. You and Nott, third year."

"I wondered if you would remember that. I mean, even before this. You've never brought it up before," Draco replied. There was a slight question in his voice.

"I think I needed to remember it today, given the situation. Our lives are so different, but so much the same. It makes me curious about what could have been if I'd made some different decisions then and there," Hermione remarked.

"Well, you'll drive yourself mad thinking that way. From what I saw when I looked through your memories, we aren't all that different from them, you. In this time you witnessed a conversation that was private and hurtful and awful. We were horrified at what we were being expected to do, but saw no way out. Did you know you whimpered? It was a sad sound, that's what alerted us that you were there, hearing it all. But I saw you looking at us, it wasn't with judgment. There was this profound sadness reflected in your face and in your eyes. As if you couldn't reconcile what you had just heard, and you were crying. Did you know you were crying?" Hermione shook her head. "Not until after you had both left the library."

"It was the crying that kept me from lashing out. Nott and I, we weren't great to you. Not as awful as what I saw in some of your memories, but we weren't friends. And yet, you cried for us. For our fate," Draco whispered in her ear.

"I thought it was wrong, and beyond horrid to have your parents tell you to your faces you had no choice in your life, but to lead a carbon copy of theirs. It was so sad, to hear you both talk about your fears and inability to escape them. Parents should shield and protect their children," Hermione said, with a hard edge in her voice. She would never be sorry for the fate Lucius Malfoy had brought upon himself. Never.

"And we will do a far better job of shielding our child than my parents ever did for me, I swear it," Draco promised. Hermione squeezed the arms he had wound around her waist.

"There will always be dangers that we can't foresee, but I'll not have anyone turn our boy into a prejudiced child who can't see a way out. I won't have it," Hermione's voice was steel.

"I know you won't, it's one of the reasons I love you," Draco kissed the shell of her ear, and Hermione wasn't sure what to do or say.

"Shh, Mi. It's alright. I know this is still…new to you. The point is, that I know you're still you. I'm not going anywhere, alright?"

Hermione smiled to herself then. Of course, she had an anchor, and he was it. He was the one that kept her tethered in the here and the now, even though sometimes she might think she was there and then. He had been the one to keep her sane, while she took his place. He had been the one to break her shields down, when no one else could. It was Draco. Draco was her safe place.

"I told you they would love you, as they love me," the back of her mind chided her.

"Give me a break , yeah? I've only been here thirty six hours," she thought back at herself. Hermione didn't get a thought back, but instead a sense of joy and laughter.

"I believe you," she told Draco. She dropped her head back to rest on his shoulder, and they watched their son laugh and tease his normally austere godfather. At some point, Luna had ended up on the floor, mirth clear on her face. Scorpius may have only been four years old, but he was the marriage of minds of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. He had rebellious and prankster Uncle Weasley's. He had sneaky Uncle Notts, and Zabini's. He had the loyalty of his Auntie Tonks. He was a mash up of personalities and love and he was perfect.

Hermione leaned more solidly against Draco's chest. "When you're ready, I want another one," he said into Hermione's ear right before he kissed her cheek.

"I think we can do better than one," she replied. She could feel his smile against her face. The past few days had been beyond hectic. She died. She lived. She panicked. She laughed. She cried. Hermione didn't know how to navigate the life she'd been brought into, but she knew the hands holding hers were reliable. She could depend