Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the creator of the HP universe and its characters. I do not own anything except the rather strange plot bunny, and I profit solely in reviews.
Years Ago From Now: Chapter Two
As Hermione woke up, she didn't open her eyes at first, feeling the stabbing pain of a rather intense headache. By Merlin, how much wine had she had the night before? It was this casual thought of what had happened the evening previous that brought her to the conclusion that she couldn't remember the night before. In fact, the last thing she remembered was sitting in the gardens of Malfoy Manor with the lady of the house.
That thought had her bolt upright in her bed, eyes popping open to look around her. Except, she wasn't greeted by the expected teal walls and dark wooden furniture of her own bedroom. She instead was in the middle of a bed at least capable of holding two more adults than her own had been. The walls were a soothing grey, and she was underneath a pile of the most luxurious linens she had ever felt.
Shocked, she stumbled out of the bed, dragging the plum colored comforter to the floor as she did. She felt strange. Vaguely, she was aware that she wasn't wearing much in the way of clothing. A silky nightgown encased her body. Her head was pounding, and she felt as if her body was not responding exactly how she expected it to. She looked around, glancing at the nightstand to see a wand resting on top of it. With grace that was severely lacking, she grabbed the strange wand, thinking that something was better than nothing. She swished it, testing its response to her.
The wand gave out a very pathetic shower of sparks, but… it would have to do until she could find her own. Where in the seven hells was she?!
She saw a window and approached it quickly, looking out to see…. the Malfoy gardens. That… that bitch had drugged her! But, for what reason? She flicked her wand toward the heavy door she assumed led out of the bedroom to lock it, preferring to get her bearings before making her escape.
She spied the armoire in the corner of the room and awkwardly ran toward it, opening it to find it absolutely stuffed with gorgeous robes, dresses, and skirts. No sign of pants. Not wanting to be constricted if a fight came about, she grabbed a full, knee length skirt and a blouse that she supposed might fit her frame.
She wiggled into the clothes, looking at the door as if expecting Voldemort himself to burst through the magically locked door at any second. She looked down at her waist in surprise finding it odd that the clothes she had on… seemed to fit. Almost perfectly in fact. And, her waistline seemed…different.
Previously, while not what anyone would consider plus size, she was very curvaceous. Her stomach was soft and pliable, not flat. Not that it was flat now. No, the "pudge" was still there, but it seemed hard. Almost as if she were…. A chill ran down her spine, and she could hear Narcissa's voice almost whispering something into her aching head.
A second later, she sprinted to the bathroom, through a door on the other side of the bed. She braced her hands on the marble counter top, looked in the mirror, and proceeded to scream louder than she did even when Bellatrix had tortured her.
Her reflection in the mirror was not Hermione Granger. Instead, what had to have been a much younger Narcissa Malfoy looked back at her, horror looking ridiculously out of place on the always collected woman's features. Narcissa's long hair hung in very loose blonde waves down to the middle of her back, and her dark grey Black family eyes looked stormy in comparison to the sunshine blonde.
The most startling thing, though, was the fact that Narcissa Malfoy seemed to be pregnant. Quite pregnant.
Slowly, Hermione raised a hand, touching her nose and watched as the reflection did the same. Her hand slid to the side, touching the dangling gold earring hanging from her suddenly pierced ears. Her hands skimmed down her body, over her full breasts and over the moderately sized baby bump that did not belong to her.
"Miss Granger, to answer your earlier question, yes… I've slept with the man that will be your husband. And you will sleep with mine. They are, after all, the same person. Just like you and I are."
She staggered away from the mirror, feeling her vision dim as the pounding in her head grew worse. She had just enough sharpness to sit down on the floor of the bathroom before darkness took her.
As Hermione regained consciousness, she became aware of the sound of voices. It started off soft, but slowly she was able to understand what was being said.
"….the best way to prevent this happening again? You are sure there are no ill effects on the baby?"
"As sure as I can be, Mr. Malfoy. The scans say the baby is perfectly fine, and it looked as if she had the presence of mind to sit down before she lost consciousness. She should be fine. It could simply be that she hadn't had breakfast yet. Pregnancy does strange things to a mother's body, and we both know Narcissa hasn't had the best experiences with pregnancy in the past. From all I can see, though, your son is perfectly healthy in there."
She slowly opened her eyes, and even the dim light in the room made her groan a bit.
"Narcissa?"
She squeezed her eyes shut while she frantically tried to figure out what to do, a hand coming up to her forehead. She was still, somehow, in this nightmare existence with no clue how to get out of it at the moment.
She would have to play along until she could figure out a way home. She opened her eyes to see a healer standing over her, her lips pursed as she waved her wand over Hermione's… Narcissa's stomach. The woman was older, perhaps in her mid-sixties, and she had a look of no-nonsense on her lightly wrinkled features. Curious sage green eyes looked at her appraisingly.
"What's the last thing you remember, Madam?"
"I… I was about to use the restroom when I felt very nauseated. My head was hurting badly. I thought I was going to pass out, so I sat down. I suppose I did."
"You did," the healer confirmed. The woman met Hermione's eyes and rapidly moved their wand upward, attention turned toward Hermione's head.
"Some routine questions to check your faculties…. What is your name?"
Having no clue what was currently going on around her or even what day it was, combined with the rather horrible headache she was dealing with, the solution to her problems was to play dumb.
She hesitated, a hesitation that was easy to fake considering the fact that she was most certainly not Narcissa Malfoy. "I…
The healer looked up at her with a measure of alarm, and Hermione heard the sound of a chair sliding back as someone walked to be closer to her bed. "I… I'm not sure at the moment."
"But you do remember going to the bathroom?" the healer asked, brow furrowed. Hermione nodded, feeling incredibly helpless. This had to work.
The healer muttered under her breath, casting more rapidly.
"Narcissa?" a voice questioned, drawing Hermione's eyes toward it. There he stood. Lucius Malfoy. Except, this was not the Lucius Malfoy she had encountered growing up. This was a very young Lucius Malfoy. In fact, he looked less than a decade older than herself if she estimated correctly.
The healer sighed, straightening up. "It seems there is a… complication. There is no spell residue, so I do not believe you were cursed."
Hermione's eyes shifted back to the healer, questioningly. Did they know that she was in… the wrong body? The question in her mind sounded ridiculous even without being spoken. As far as she knew, and she was rather well-read, this had never happened before.
"In muggle terminology, this would be called amnesia. Because head trauma is unlikely to go untreated for significant periods of time, it is incredibly rare within the magical world. To simply state it, Mrs. Malfoy's memory is gone. In most cases, fortunately, it does correct itself with time."
"So she… she doesn't know who I am?"
The healer looked at Hermione in askance. "I… I feel like your name is…. Lucius? I don't think… I am not sure of anything more than that," Hermione stuttered.
The healer smiled, "The fact that you can recall his name is very good, I believe." She paused, considering her next words. "Mrs. Malfoy, it is unfortunate that you have lost your memory as… well, as I said, usually head trauma occurs before something like this happens. Other than the pain you said you are experiencing and nausea, there is no known trauma."
The woman shook her head before continuing, "The scans show a… disconnect between her magic, brain, and body, so there is definitely an issue. Her magical core seems to be growing, though, so I am going to assume that it will help make the connections again. Either that or she has suddenly become much stronger as an adult, and that just doesn't happen. I have every reason to believe things will be fine, but I can't really say why it happened."
Hermione looked at Lucius Malfoy again, seeing him standing stiffly at her bedside. His eyes showed a modicum of concern, though. "And what should be do in the interim?"
The healer frowned as she thought about the answer before nodding resolutely. "Give her time and space. She doesn't need to be overwhelmed with things, at least not at first. Normally, I would suggest having her surrounded by people she knows, but that is highly stressful, and I don't want stress to jeopardize the baby. If she starts to seem overwhelmed with information, pull back. Spend time together as a family, answer any questions Mrs. Malfoy has and follow her lead on what she is comfortable with regarding your relationship. Remember, she is your wife, but you are a stranger to her for now."
Hermione was feeling dizzy again and nausea was returning. "I… I think I am going to be sick," she said, before proceeding to lean over the edge of the bed to vomit, right on her husband's shiny, black boots and the bottom of his pants. His feet stayed in place, though, and she didn't hear him make any sound of protest.
The healer quickly vanished the mess as Hermione's vomiting turned into dry heaving. She felt a hand somewhat hesitantly reach to pull her hair back.
Finally, she leaned back in her bed again and felt Lucius release her hair before aiming his wand at her head. She jerked in alarm but a silent spell later, she felt her hair braid itself along her shoulder. She looked at the healer to see the older woman smiling at them. "Any potions you could take during pregnancy before this should still be fine to continue. Please, do not hesitate to floo if anything else out of the ordinary happens. And let me know when her memory returns. I'll check in again for her regular prenatal care in two weeks."
"Thank you, Healer Wynne," Lucius stated, calmly. Hermione nodded at the healer, looking unsure. The woman smiled at her before reaching out a hand.
"I suppose it is proper to introduce myself, then," she said, as Hermione shook her hand. "Abecca Wynne. I am your healer and plan to deliver your baby in a few months time. As to my experience, well, I delivered you and both of your sisters. You are in good hands."
Hermione forced a smile, nodding again. "Th-thank you, Healer Wynne."
"Abecca, and if you have any questions or concerns, do reach out," the woman said. Then, she gathered her bag from the foot of the bed and showed herself out.
Hermione watched as the bedroom door shut before looking around the room. It was the same bedroom she woke up in. Finally, she watched as Lucius pulled a chair up to the side of her bed.
"If I were you, I would have questions," he stated, plainly, leaning back.
Hermione took a deep breath before nodding. "Where am I? And… the date?"
Lucius's facial expression lacked any familiarity with her, seeming incredibly stoic and formal in his countenance. He looked different now. It was widely thought, even amongst those that believed him to be the most evil wizard in Britain save Voldemort himself, that Lucius Malfoy was a devastatingly handsome man. Hermione had always been unable to see completely through the sneers on his face, but even she had privately acknowledged he was good looking. Now, at roughly 25 years of age, she guessed… without the sneer on his face, she was forced to admit he was the best-looking man she had ever seen. It was a shame he was such an evil son of a bitch.
"You are at your home in Wiltshire, Malfoy Manor. This is your private bedroom. My own is on the other side of the stairs, first door on the left. The date is March the 10th, 1980."
Hermione felt her breathing start to speed up as panic threatened to settle in again. She nodded rapidly, seeing that Lucius was looking at her strangely in return. She was sure, at that moment, that she was not acting much like the Narcissa Malfoy he knew.
"And…" she looked down at her swollen stomach, feeling the nausea threaten to return at the thought. When was Draco's birthday? She had never had reason to know. Now, she did. She needed to be gone by that point, back in her own body.
Lucius cleared his throat. "The baby is due the third week of June. If all goes to plan, he will be our first born. You… you have lost two previous pregnancies."
Hermione looked at him, worriedly. "I… I am sorry." Her mind was spinning wildly. Just over three months to go.
Lucius simplynodded, his face closed off once more.
"How long have we been married? How did we meet?"
His face remained passive as he responded. "We have known each other since we were children, and were formally betrothed when I was in my sixth year of Hogwarts, and you were in your fourth. We married after you graduated, October 11th, 1974. So, we have been married for roughly five and a half years."
Hermione nodded, trying to think of what the natural next questions would be if she didn't know most of the recorded details. "Do I have a job?"
Lucius seemed to struggle not to smirk before responding. "No. You are, of course, permitted to do so, but you have never had the interest."
"And you?" she asked.
"We are independently wealthy, so I do not have the need to seek out typical employment. I have a seat on the Wizengamot and spend time doing political maneuvering. In my free time, I research and write books on the subject of Ancient Runes. I have two published so far."
Hermione felt her eyebrows rise, giving away her surprise. "You write books?"
"Yes. You have never been particularly interested in them, though. You do not enjoy pursuing academia," he responded, mildly, seeming slightly amused.
She knew that wouldn't do. She would have to research to get out of her. "I… I might, actually. I think I should like to read a bit."
Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Well, the elves can certainly show you to the library or fetch you whatever you might like to read."
Hermione nodded. She wanted to know what the status of their marriage was. "Pardon me, but… it sounds like we don't have much in common. What do we do together?"
Lucius looked away for a moment, and she swore she could see a flash of something in his eyes as he did. He looked back at her though. "Our time together is… minimal. Our marriage was arranged, and you very much did not wish for it to happen. We both tried to get out of it, actually, but you nearly were disinherited by your family. We dine together and are… intimate when needed. Part of the marriage contract was agreement to attempt to have two children. Once that occurs, I have suspected you will choose to not live here. If two are not born before you lose five separate pregnancies, the marriage will be legally dissolved, and you would be free to remarry."
Hermione nodded. The clinical way he spoke seemed to denote they were not particularly friendly with each other. That seemed strange considering the fact that she knew Narcissa and Lucius to be quite devoted to each other, and Draco, in their own time.
"Do you… do you have a mistress?"
Lucius shook his head. "It is standard in all Malfoy marriage contracts that the man shall not take a mistress until his wife has had the requisite two children. Such a stipulation prevents an illegitimate child from being named heir by any means."
"Do… do I?"
Lucius stood abruptly from his seat. "I am sure that I am not the right person to answer that particular question. I do know that the child you are carrying is mine. That was confirmed just a few months into the pregnancy. I am afraid I have some letters to send in the wake of your accident. The elves can help you with anything you need. Mink or Bando are the ones most capable in personal matters. The rest strictly cook and clean. I will see you at dinner tonight."
She watched as her husband (temporary, she was sure), stood from the chair at her bedside. He gave a very short bow before turning sharply on his heel and walking toward the door. For a moment, she thought of Severus Snape and the obvious differences between the two. Severus Snape had been dark and seemed to float across the floor visually. Lucius was light and seemed to be so formal that he practically marched, a soldier. The inside though. Well, Lucius had had love in his life yet still was an immoral, son of a bitch. A smooth talker covering a deadly, malicious interior. Snape had had little to no love in his horrible life and severely lacked in the charm department. Yet, ultimately, had proved himself to want good to triumph, even if he couldn't do it or experience it for himself.
She came out of her thoughts to see that she was staring at the closed door. That wouldn't do. She needed to get to work. She needed to right this…torrential wrong.
Hermione sat up in the large bed, putting a hand to her head. The headache was starting to go away, but it still was present. She needed to think. She needed to plan. She needed to get out of 1980 and, even more importantly, out of Narcissa Malfoy's pregnant body.
Clearing her throat, she called the house elves Lucius had mentioned. "Mink! Bando!"
The two elves appeared, eyes downcast as the male (according to his small pants and shirt rather than dress) spoke. "Yes, Mistress?"
She was silent for a moment as she measured her words. "Who is your loyalty to, first and foremost? Are you required to keep my secrets if I forbid you from sharing them?"
Bando looked up and answered. "I is a Malfoy family elf, and my loyalty is to beings to Master Malfoy above all else. If he asks me a question, I must answers it."
The female elf at her side curtsied, her hands holding out the neat linen skirt she was wearing. "I belongs to you, Mistress. I came with you here when you was married. I can keep your secrets, I's am happy to do it!"
Hermione nodded. "Very well. That will be all from you, Bando. You are dismissed."
The elf disappeared, and Hermione kept her gaze on the small elf.
"Mink, please silence the room so that none may surveil it."
The elf looked slightly surprised before snapping her fingers and nodding. "It is done."
Hermione smiled then. "Thank you, Mink. Now, I will have several strange questions for you now and in the future. I need your honest answer without filtering for what you expect my response to be. You will not be in trouble for being honest with me. Do you understand?"
Mink looked very nervous, but she nodded her head, causing her large ears to flap vigorously.
"First off, I need you to gather any non-fiction books regarding time travel and…possession and bring them to me here without Mr. Malfoy noticing," Hermione said, clearly.
"Master might notice if they goes missing. He spends a lot of time in the library, Mistress," the elf said quickly.
Hermione nodded. "Just… a few at a time, then. Nothing you deem noticeable. Place them under my bed. If I am finished with them, I will let you know to switch it with another. Now… information. First of all, my marriage. Mr Malfoy acted like this was only my room. It has always been so?"
"Yes, Mistress. The Master has only been in here when you have been most likely to make little masters. You tolds him he is not allowed in other times," the elf responded quickly.
Next to be answered was the question Lucius had been most unwilling to answer. It seemed important, and she dreaded hearing the answer. "Mink… to the best of your knowledge, do I take lovers other than Mr. Malfoy?"
If a house elf could blush, Hermione was sure that Mink was currently doing so. The little elf's ears wiggled in discomfort as she wrung her hands together. "We is not supposed to speak of such things, Mistress."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, but it is important. Please, Mink…"
The words caused the elf to look at her very strangely before, hesitantly, the elf nodded. "Yes, Mistress. Yous used to see Mr. Lestrange, the younger, a few times a week."
"But not recently?" she asked, weakly. The last time she had seen Rabastan, he had been on the latest, and hopefully last, trip to Azkaban along with his brother. While, for a Death Eater, he had seemed to be one of the saner types at his trial (a sharp contrast from his late sister-in-law), he was absolutely merciless.
The elf shook its head. "No, Miss. Yous stopped when trying to conceive the young master and have been too sick, but Mr. Lestrange has written you letters, he has."
"And Mr. Malfoy? Does he see other people?"
The elf's eyes widened, but she shook her head. "Not that I know of, Mistress, but he is not here alls of the times, and I's be your elf."
Hermione nodded, distracted be her thoughts. "And my family?"
Mink was starting to seem a bit more comfortable and answered with little hesitation. "Yours parents was very upset when you tried to… they don't see you much. Miss Bellatrix, she sees you more but yous isn't as close as you used to be either."
"When I tried to… what, Mink?"
The elf's eyes became teary as she responded. "You… you dids not want to marry Master Lucius and yous drank poison you did. My brother, Felt, founds you and saved you. They was most happy with Felt. You… you wasn't happy with him though. Can I get you anything, Mistress?"
Hermione cleared her throat, finding the change in subject very sudden for a house elf. "Mink, I promised you wouldn't be in trouble. You see, I can't remember… anything. Nothing at all. Where is Felt now?"
She watched as Mink started to pull roughly at her ears before finally answering. "Yous… you killed Felt, Mistress. He… he didn't know what you were doing. He only was trying to help, but… but…"
Hermione felt tears come to her own eyes in horror and sympathy for Mink. Poor elf. And, her brother! Oh, how she hated Narcissa Malfoy!
Hermione reached out a hand, grabbing onto the hand on Mink in her own. The movement caused the elf to jump sharply, startled by the affection. Hermione spoke seriously, "I… I am so sorry that I did that, Mink. It was wrong and should not have happened. I can't say I know why I did what I did, but I promise… you will not ever be in danger of me hurting you or any other elves here- ever. Do you understand?"
Mink looked at her very strangely then, her large eyes exceedingly bulbous as she seemed to assess the seriousness with which Hermione spoke. Finally, she responded. "Thank you, Mistress."
Hermione nodded. "It's what you deserve, Mink."
The elf was quiet for a few moments. "Is there anything else you is needing?"
Hermione took a deep breath, sensing that the elf couldn't take anything else. "Yes. A few of those books, please. Be discreet."
Author's Note: Thank you for the wonderful reviews you all left. I was thrilled to see so many familiar names, and I hope to hear more! This is still a work in progress. That being said, I have not yet written anything occurring post Voldemort's first downfall. If there is some aspect of the Malfoy's marriage or their relationship other's/each other or events they might have experienced that you would like to see, please feel free to let me know. I would be happy to attempt to include it when I get to a good place for it.