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 solely profit in reviews.

Years Ago From Now: Chapter Four

Hermione's trip back to Malfoy Manor was spent with her head rapidly trying to think of options. In the past, her past, she had generally relied on only herself to solve her problems. Harry and Ron had mostly been useless in the library, after all, and she was always happy to research.

Now she would have the added benefit of scouring the Malfoy library. It was known to be one of the best magical libraries in the country, if entirely private. She was not personally familiar with it, of course. Her only prior experience in Malfoy Manor was in its drawing room. She suppressed a shudder at the thought, rubbing the opposite hand over her left forearm. After a moment, she glanced down at the forearm, half expecting to see the word, Mudblood, carved into it. However, the arm she looked at was pale and bare, with only the tiniest brown freckle and barely noticeable blonde hair.

She shook herself, going back to her thoughts. The library. She would need to find everything possible on time travel, primarily. She needed to know if it was safe to go to anyone about what was going on. If she created some kind of paradox, what would happen?

Her experience with time travel back in her third year negated the idea that she could change the future from this point in time. She was, in some way, destined to be here. Sirius Black escaped because even when she hadn't known it was happening, an older version of herself had travelled back to save him. The end result was always the same. Throwing rocks to interrupt Buckbeak's execution, howling to lure Moony away, saving Sirius… it had already happened, and it would continue to happen because it always did happen that way. Somewhere, it was still happening.

The rather confusing thoughts were not causing her headache to abate, so she tried to put the subject out of her mind. What else was there to think about though?

Lucius sprung to mind faster than she was comfortable with. She would need to watch herself with him. He was an intelligent man. But then, perhaps she could do anything, and he wouldn't figure it out? Maybe she should just go back to Malfoy Manor and dance around saying she was a mudblood from Hampstead and see what would happen. Would it change the future? But, really, the idea was absolutely ridiculous, and she would never deign to do something so… stupid or overt. But… maybe the idea was ridiculous on some subconscious level because she was not meant to do it.

Ugh. Her head was pounding now. Her feet had taken her on autopilot back into the Leaky Cauldron, and she looked around halfway in surprise at how she had managed to hail the Knight Bus and get back to the Leaky without really thinking about it. It had made the trip more tolerable, though.

On her way to the fireplace, she bumped into a short man a bit younger than her. "Hey! Watch it!" he said, but then looked at her more closely. "Oh… uhm, sorry about that. I will just uhm… be on my way?" The rather round man practically scampered away, and she rolled her eyes as she turned, going toward the fireplace. A minute later, she was home.

She quickly walked up to her bedroom, eager to see if Mink had come through with some more books for her. Walking in, she kicked off her shoes, uncaring that they went in completely different directions on her way to the bed. She bent down at the edge and reached underneath, relieved to feel a few books under her hands. She pulled them out and stood up before climbing into her bed, leaning against the headboard, and started to read once more.

Once again, she was pulled from her reading by being called to dinner. This time, however, it was Lucius that came to her. He knocked thrice on her door, and she scrambled to put the books under the bed before calling him in.

He peeked into the room before opening it all of the way. "Dinner is ready, I believe. Would you like to walk with me, or do you intend to eat in your room?"

She stood from the bed and walked toward him. "I'll join you."

He held the door open for her before putting a hand on the small of her back and leading her down the hallway and stairs. "How was your day?"

She smiled gently, choosing to believe that there was no suspicion in his voice. "I went out for the morning and explored a bit of London. After that, I came back here and rested."

Lucius nodded, leading her into the dining room and pulling out the chair next to his for her. After seating her, he spoke up once more. "Yes, Narcissa has seemed more tired lately."

His referring to her as if Narcissa was another person caused the hair to raise on her neck. "Have I? I am happy that it is not any lingering issues connected to my memory."

He cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "I apologize. It is strange to interact with you this way. I am not sure what I am doing or what I should expect in return. I would ask if your memory has returned, but the Narcissa I know would never look so unsure and timid… even if she had no idea what was going on, which was quite frequent."

He smirked in a devilishly handsome way, and Hermione shuddered at the sight. He's not your friend. He's your enemy; he just doesn't know it yet.

She walked further into the room, watching as he stood to pull the chair out for her. Smiling in thanks, she sat down and started to fill her plate.

As she ate, she noticed Lucius had put down the paper and was watching her, clearly amused. She slowly put down her fork and looked at him.

Hermione looked at him with a slight frown, thinking. After a moment, she asked a question that seemed pertinent.

Hermione blushed, feeling guilty in some way. "I… I'm sorry for asking so bluntly, but… What are your feelings for me? Her? Do you… do you love your wife?"

He looked at her shrewdly. "No. I, unlike you, had hope for the first month or so that we would grow to maybe feel that way about each other. It is not meant to be, though. We are very different people, with very different wants in a spouse. Most recently it has been hard to feel anything other than hatred for you, to be honest. I… I have come to believe that you are purposefully ending your pregnancies in order to annul our marriage and avoid the role of mother."

Hermione was surprised by that, and she was sure her face showed it. Narcissa and Lucius always seemed to work well together in her eyes. Both pureblood supremacists with pristine background, money, and an all-consuming love for their son that would, ultimately, trump anything else they believed. But, with what he was saying… Narcissa certainly did not feel that way about her unborn son. She would have to reevaluate what she thought she knew.

Still, there was an easy way to help the rest of her, hopefully limited, time here a bit easier. "I… I don't know why she would… but, uhm… I have no intention of hurting anyone. Least of all, you know… the baby. I don't know why anyone would want to…"

Lucius nodded curtly, "Thank you for that. Hopefully that will not change when you regain your memories. You are currently unaware, of course, but within every marital contract for Malfoy men we are obliged to only be with our spouse and can only marry once unless our wife dies due to circumstances outside of our control. You… you weren't held back by family vows. Regardless of what you think of me, I ultimately just want to continue my family line and be a good father."

"That is understandable. I don't know why she-"

"If this is some twisted idea of a joke, Narcissa-" Lucius asking suddenly, looking suddenly vulnerable. She could understand his paranoia. The situation seemed fantastical, was fantastical. She could not blame him for thinking it more likely that a contentious wife would concoct it out of a cruel joke more than face the reality that the person in his wife's body was not the woman he married. And he did not even know to the right extent how true such a thought would be.

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No! No, it isn't!"

The air seemed to leave him as he relaxed, taking her response very seriously. "How does your head feel now?"

"Fine," she responded. "The elves got me some headache medicine and something for the morning sickness. I'm simply tired. And hungry. "

He nodded, gesturing to their plates. "Please, then, eat."

They ate their meals in silence, thinking over what had happened and the day to come. Occasionally, one would glance at the other while thinking and then jerk their gaze away, not wanting to be caught in the act. Both were aware that the other was doing it but had no desire to speak to the awkwardness of the meal.

When they were done with the main course, Hermione stood up from the table. She was slightly surprised to see Lucius rise swiftly from his own chair. "I'm not feeling much up for dessert. I might go on to bed now, if that is fine with you."

Lucius smiled the tiniest bit and stepped from behind his chair. "I'll walk you to your room."

"Thank you," she said, feeling his hand come to place against the small of her back, gently leading her. She was discomforted by the fact that it did not feel quite as unnatural as it had the night before, despite the awkward conversation.

They stepped apart outside of her bedroom door, and Hermione gathered the courage to look at him. She was pleased to know that he was not a Legilimens, having learned he lacked the ability at his trial. He was a rather gifted Occlumens, though, if she remembered correctly. Still, he looked at her as if he could read her mind, a pale eyebrow raised lightly with a silent question.

"I am sorry, Lucius. I am sure this whole situation is incredibly uncomfortable for you. I wish I could will it to be easier," she said. She wanted to discount his feelings entirely, some dark part of her that remembered how he had looked at her on his drawing room floor only a few years ago in the future. Like she was a filthy piece of laundry on the floor, leaving manure on his hardwood floors.

Instead, she was starting to get a different nuance into the character of Lucius Malfoy, this one at least. A horribly lonely man being used repeatedly and going along with it because the alternative was deemed to be worse. It was that thought that made her question, for the scantest of moments… when did he lose his true belief in Lord Voldemort's cause? Between the wars? When he had went to prison? When the lives of his family were threatened? Or… was it much before?

Her thought didn't have time to fully manifest, though, as he took one of her hands in his.

"I believe you honestly mean that, which is very kind of you. So far, I am liking you so much better like this, and part of me… even though I know it is wrong, part of me hopes you might stay this way and remain like this. Even when you regain your memory, though, I hope you know that I do not wish anything bad to happen to you. You will be the mother to my heir, and you are my responsibility. Regardless of our feelings for each other, if you should have need of my help or protection- it will be yours as soon as I know of it."

It was certainly not a profession of love, but the amount of sincerity made her blush. Without much thought involved, she leaned in and kissed the man on the cheek, thanking Merlin that there were men like her own father and Arthur Weasley… men that deeply cared for and valued their families despite their personal faults.

She didn't take the time to look at the surprise that was in his eyes, missing the absolute shock in them. Instead, she turned quickly and entered her room. "Goodnight, Lucius," she said, shutting the bedroom door.

March 24, 1980

Thirteen days later, Hermione was almost ready to pull her hair out. She had finally exhausted all of the books that Mink had deemed slightly pertaining to her problem. Anything, even the really disgusting books, that pertained to a soul inside another's body and time travel had been read and cross-referenced. She had reached the end, and she had no idea what to do.

A growing part of her was being drawn to the idea of approaching Albus Dumbledore. She believed that she could make him believe her, and he was an incredibly well-read man that would be one of the mostly likely people in the world able to help her. Unfortunately, she knew Albus Dumbledore. She knew that if she went to him… he would ruin whatever life she had with his machinations, eager to use her as a pawn against the dark.

Severus Snape, to the best of her knowledge, was another source. If she remembered correctly, Sybil Trelawney would make her first known prophecy this year. In fact, very soon. Before Harry would be born in July and while Albus was searching for someone to take over the Divination post. It was imminent. That would mean that Severus's spying days were also nearing, and his loyalty to the Dark was on the way out, timed with Lily Potter's death sentence. If Narcissa had used dark magic to bring her here, she knew Severus Snape was a veritable library on the subject. However, Lucius had yet to bring him up, and "Narcissa" had no memory of him.

Strangely, she was considering one of the craziest possibilities. She knew of someone that could ask Albus questions in her stead. Someone that also probably had a decent knowledge of the Dark if Hermione had learned enough to judge her personality correctly. Someone that was incredibly intelligent. Unfortunately, that woman would be going into hiding soon. But… the idea of meeting Harry's mother was almost unbearably strong. If, somehow, she made it back to her own time, it would mean the world to Harry. And… she had always felt as if she and Lily would have shared a kinship of sorts.

She also knew, without a doubt, if she could prove herself honest, Lily would love to hear about her son. Hermione would love to tell her. Yes, the temptation to tell Lily was too strong to bear, but how to do it?

As had been the past several days, Hermione spent most of the day in her room, plotting. She ate the food Mink thoughtfully brought to her, debating how she wanted to work it out. Finally, she decided to test Lily's Gryffindor Spirit.

Dear Mrs. Potter,

I am writing to you because I require a meeting to discuss matters most important to us both. I am in a rather horrible situation, and I believe that you are one of the few people that might be able to help me. I believe that you know me, but I can't be sure to what extent. I will explain that ridiculous statement when we see each other in person.

Please know that I mean you absolutely no ill will. I believe I have nowhere else to turn. Unfortunately for us both, coming events will make it much harder to see you at a later date, so this needs to happen very quickly.

I have a few requirements that will be explained, and I am trying to make this as even a playing field as I possibly can. I cannot reveal who I am in this letter in case you show it to anyone. We can't be seen together by any magical person that could identify us. At the same time, in these dark days, I understand that sounding risky. Please, choose a place that you believe will be safe for you. I know that you are an honorable woman, and I hope you will understand my plea for privacy. To not have it could be disastrous for both parties. Send me a portkey and I will come at any point during daylight hours in the next three days. The sooner the better. I will allow you to ward the area and protect yourself by any means, and I will allow you to disarm me on sight. I beg of you. Anywhere not heavily populated by the magical community.

I look forward to your response. If you assign somewhere public, be aware that when I arrive, I will be wearing a pink blouse and black skirt. I believe you will recognize me. Your discretion, as stated, is vital.

A Friend of the Family

She went down to dinner and pecked at her food, listening as Lucius struggled to hold up an entirely one sided conversation. He spoke of the current front runners on the dueling circuit, but she had no interest at the moment.

"Narcissa?" Lucius said, loudly, snapping her attention to him. The tone indicated it was not the first time saying her name.

"I'm sorry, Lucius. What is it?" she asked, feeling embarrassed for her lack of focus.

"What do you have planned for tomorrow?" he asked, forearms resting on the, now bare, dining room table in front of him.

She sighed, heaving her shoulders up and down in a shrug. The stress was building up as she hoped for a response from Lily. "I don't know. I am… I am getting so tired of not knowing who I am or what I am supposed to be doing. I've kept my stress low and surrounded myself with familiar things. I'm just so sick of it all. Part of me wonders if… if maybe I put myself into the unfamiliar it will help. Maybe only having my memory to rely on will shock it into working again?"

Lucius looked skeptical of such a plan but also disinterested in her rapidly regaining her memory. "If you believe that would help. Where do you think you would go?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure. Perhaps I will go to the Leaky Cauldron and ask Tom of somewhere safe to visit in Muggle London? Maybe I will go to an airport? Those planes have always looked interesting. Perhaps there is a nice library? What do muggles read about?"

"Muggle London?" the skepticism in his voice had grown, and he was looking at her as if she had three heads. "You are certainly not my wife."

She blushed and looked down, a gesture he misinterpreted.

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly. "I don't mean to… make things awkward. I am just learning there is a different side to you without the knowledge of how you were raised to guide you."

She shrugged, taking a sip of water from the goblet next to her grazed-on plate. "I believe I am more desperate than anything."

Lucius nodded. "I understand; I really do. As long as you take an emergency portkey, and Mink is prepared to get you out of any trouble… what can a muggle do to a capable witch? Just make sure it is nowhere seedy."

Hermione smiled, now hoping she would have the opportunity to get out regardless of Lily. Time in part of the world she knew would be nice. Perhaps the London Zoo or the British Museum?

"You don't seem very interested in eating," Lucius observed, pushing back his chair.

Hermione nodded lightly, standing herself. Wordlessly, they began the trek up to her room. She felt the weight of his hand on her back and felt glad in it. She felt so… alone. Even the illusion of having a friend here was nice.

When they reached the door, she started to enter her room, but his hand slid to hers, stopping it.

"Goodnight, Narcissa," he said. Then, he leaned in and kissed her delicately on the cheek. It was nowhere near her mouth, positioned in an entirely innocent area of her cheek. It still made her toes tingle slightly, and she felt her eyes widen at the action. Lucius didn't know it though. He was already walking determinedly down the hall toward his own room.

She closed her bedroom door behind her and leaned against it.

She and Lucius still hadn't spent much time together. He remained busy she supposed, and she spent most of her time researching her situation and sleeping. She was desperately tired almost all of the time. They were both generally quiet at breakfast and didn't see each other until the evening meal where Lucius attempted to keep conversation light.

She wasn't sure how to feel about him becoming more and more familiar with her. She was trying to keep her distance, but she knew that if she were truly a woman with no memory…. That woman would probably be trying to spend more time getting to know the man she had allegedly married. She needed to find a balance.

Her eyes then looked at the window and honed in on the owl sitting on her window sill. She practically flew toward it and took the letter and small parcel from the large, tawny owl. Inside lay a wrapped up bit of fabric was a large wooden block with a Q written on one side and a question mark on the opposite. She smirked at the portkey before reading the letter.

Dear "Friend",

I'll meet you. It will be in public. Keep your hands visible and your wand out of sight. Put it in a purse on your right shoulder. The portkey will bring you to my location at eleven tomorrow morning. It will not work for more than one person. Get ready to explain yourself.

-Lily Potter

Author's Note: The last chapter didn't get as much response as I expected. I hope you are enjoying the story, if you are- drop a line to say hi! I appreciate your feedback and any constructive criticism. This is, undoubtedly, more difficult to write than my last story considering I have to stick to JK Rowling's timeline. I'm trying not to miss anything important!