AN - Hi friends! My classes are starting up again, so my updates may slow. I'm hoping to finish this segment of the story in a couple of chapters, but if you readers want, I will probably continue building on it. Let me know what you think! :) J K Rowling is a literary genius and I am merely a fan. Thanks for reading.

- Chapter Nine - June 19 1929 -

- Orphaned Sons and Offered Soup -

Hermione lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Luna snoozed beside her with a paradoxical peace that Hermione envied. The past few day's events had tired her down to the bones. So many things had gone wrong, yet having the strange cocktail of company was a bittersweet concoction that somehow made her feel more secure.

All this time, Hermione had planned to complete this mission alone. Once again however, her Gryffindor foolhardiness got the better of her. She hadn't planned for the long run. What was she thinking? Was she to spend her life raising a son that may become a volatile magic dictator without anyone she knew from her timeline for support? Time travel was messy enough with one person but at the same time, travelling solo for long periods seemed like a lonely endeavour. Hermione was too stubborn to admit it, but she was grateful that her accidental magic enveloped the four of them into this journey. Even if it did include Malfoy.

Would Malfoy even want to come with them once Justin fixed the time turner? Would they even have the ability to travel back to that time? The thought made Hermione question her knowledge on time travel. She chastised herself for not immediately knowing the answer. Hermione made a mental note to read up on time turner laws tomorrow before everyone got up. The prideful part of her winced at the thought of someone seeing 'Brightest Witch of Her Age' Hermione needing to check her facts

A soft whimper from Luna dragged Hermione's thoughts back to reality. She shifted to stoke the witch's transfigured short black hair and cooed into her ear a comforting melody of half truths and white lies. Drawing Luna close, Hermione's maternal instincts kicked in.

Luckily, earlier on in the day, the night terror stricken witch who was currently held tightly in Hermione's arms remembered that her paternal relatives wouldn't be residing in their home for the time being. Luna had recalled a story her father had told her once about her great grandparents travelling the world for a few years just before the muggle Great Depression. Luna's family wouldn't be present and the four had the manor to themselves.

Tomorrow, Hermione and Justin were to pose as potential adoptive parents at the muggle orphanage where Tom Riddle resided. While they were discussing this plan as a group around the kitchen table earlier that same night, Justin brought up the important issue of their group's dynamic. He stressed that it was essential that they all learned to live together in harmony before they brought a child into the picture.

Although she saw merit to the Hufflepuff's words, Hermione was headstrong and wanted Tom as soon as possible. Justin eventually gave in saying that cooperation would come when needed and he left it at that. The four of them frantically got the manor ready for the young tot while silently remarking at the strangeness of the situation. The group would be staying there for the foreseeable future both in preparation for their next time jump and waiting for the time turner to be fixed.

Hermione fidgeted under the covers. She was worried about how things would go tomorrow. If she and Justin blew this completely, there was no plan B. Perhaps worse, Malfoy's discouraging words that they should at least have a backup plan would ruin her time travelling trip for sure. One thing Hermione loathed more than she cared to admit, was when Draco Malfoy was right; it always meant that she was wrong. There were no do-overs with this time turner.

She touched the broken gadget from inside her ever present beaded bag. They wouldn't be going anywhere until it was fixed. Hermione tried to settle her thoughts; the time turner was a worry for later. She would have to get up in a few hours whether she slept through them or not.

- June 20 1929 -

Just outside the steps, Hermione and Justin said their goodbyes to the dreamy Luna and the sullen Malfoy. Hermione almost laughed at the thought of those two stuck in one place together. One look at Justin's smile and then they were off towards the edge of the wards.

Wearing decidedly muggle attire that matched the time period, Hermione couldn't stop patting down her long ruffled dress and playing with the pearls around her neck. Justin laughed at her and told her that she looked fine.

The pair walked up to the door of the dreary orphanage and knocked. They looked to each other. His transfigured blonde mop was combed and styled to match that of the times. He looked quite sharp. Justin grabbed her hand and whispered to her, "I'm freaking out, but I know we'll be okay."

Hermione spluttered at the contradiction. She was just about to hiss a half hearted admonishment her endearing friend's ear when the door swung open. An ancient looking woman stood there with a bored expression on her face.

The woman could only be described as looking quite alike a parched raisin. Her many layered shawls looked threadbare and the sagging skin on her face almost covered her eyes. She was quite the picture.

"Good day," she croaked out in a dusty voice, "how may I help you?"

Plucking up her courage, Hermione smiled at the hag and cheerily spun the tale she had been rehearsing for quite a while.

"Oh, good day madam. My darling husband and I are here seeking a young boy that will hopefully grow up to help us on our small farm. You see, it's quite shameful really, but I am a barren woman. Bless my husband here for sticking with me, but I simply must have a child. It is a woman's greatest wish after all."

Hermione had to hold in an eye roll. She was prepared to continue, but the old woman ushered them in at her ancient pace. Justin squeezed Hermione's hand and grinned encouragingly.

The woman led them through an acrid smelling corridor and into a dingy office that held a desk with three beaten up chairs. Two of them faced one across the desk; the woman plopped down and faced them. Peeling wallpaper seemed to hang out at Hermione in a sleazy wave of welcome. This was no place for a young boy, or any child for that matter, to grow up in. Her heart went out to all of the children residing here.

Once seated, the woman brought out some files. As her boney fingers sifted through some paperwork, Hermione piped up, "We are desperately in search of a toddler. A little tot to brighten our lives who we can raise with our own values." Hermione left out the fact that said values involved going to a magical school of witchcraft and wizardry, using a wand and delving into a world that could only be thought of in a muggle's wildest dreams.

Justin agreed and squeezed Hermione's hand once more in a comforting gesture.

The old lady looked up at Hermione's words and wheezed out a breath. She smiled a barely there smile. "We have two boys who fit the description. Would you like to meet them?" Justin enthusiastically agreed before Hermione could even speak. She wasn't adverse to the idea.

After meeting a particularly cute four year old named Johnny, Hermione suddenly became very anxious. This was it.

A heavy door opened to reveal a small boy, a fair bit over two, sitting in a crib with a tin car in his hand. Little Tom had dark brown hair and deep chestnut eyes that roamed over the imaginary racetrack that his bedspread made. He was making sputtering noises and rolling the toy over the stained sheets. When he looked up at the new faces, Hermione's heart melted.

Cursing under his breath, Draco paced the guest room questioning his life choices. How did he get himself into this mess? A fool hardy mission led by the Curly-Haired Calamity was sure to end in messy ruins.

He rubbed a hand through his hair. Draco was frustrated that Granger didn't even let him approach the subject of his switched loyalty. Hadn't she any clue what the Dark Lord was capable of? Was she intentionally unaware of the pain that he had caused to his enemies and followers alike? She had her head too far up her ass to even recognize that anyone other than she and her precious Potter followers had suffered the tragedies of war.

A soft knock at his door announced Luna's presence in the manor. Draco had almost forgot about Loony Lovegood. Rolling his eyes, he whipped open the door and growled at the witch.

"What do you want?" Draco's eyes fell upon a freshly made bowl of soup and felt a tiny pang of guilt at his rudeness.

Luna smiled up at Draco despite his biting tone and said, "I made some soup for myself and I had some left over. Would you like some?"

The intoxicating smell of food washed over him. When was his last meal? Luna clearly had a knack for cooking, the soup smelled delicious. Soft vegetables bobbed around enticingly in a steaming broth.

He shook his head in the negative; his stomach loudly protested. "I don't need your scraps, witch." Draco slammed the door in Luna's still smiling face.

For five minutes, Draco stood there in silence. What was wrong with him? It took him ten more minutes to deliberate whether it was worth it to apologize.

He came down the steps to the kitchen to find Luna humming to herself seated at the kitchen table. For a manor, the Lovegood estate was quaint. Draco hadn't seen a formal dining room at all. He guessed the crazy magical folk didn't have a need since they probably didn't entertain.

Luna had a paintbrush in hand and had her tongue sticking out comically. Draco felt increasingly bad for the poor witch, she hadn't intended on being the dumping grounds for his pent up frustration and grief. Her soup had been a peace offering.

"Luna…" Draco began, but his apology fizzled due to fear. After a couple minutes of awkward silence. He tried once more.

"Luna, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so short. It's just been… a crazy couple of weeks for me." Draco felt heat rise in his embarrassed cheeks as Luna turned to him. Instead of an angry glare he was expecting, his eyes fell saw a small smile.

She gazed into his eyes for a prolonged amount of time. Draco's left fingers twitched anxiously. He never knew what to expect when it came to this weird witch.

When she spoke, her words were soft and kind. "I accept your apology Draco. This has been a hard time for all of us." After a short pause, Luna cocked her head to the side and stood up; her paintbrush was forgotten and lay on the table bleeding paint onto her scrap paper canvas.

"You have recently suffered a loss. I am very sorry. Were they someone dear to you?" Luna's voice was so full of care that Draco found his stoic facade cracking. She had stuck a cord.

"My mother." He didn't know where this candor was coming from. Why was he telling Looney of all people about the worst experience of his life? Maybe because she was the only one in the blasted group who might not judge his stubborn tears. The memory was so fresh and raw too.

"Oh Draco. I am so sorry. I always liked your mother." Before he could even register what was happening, Luna enveloped him in a fierce hug. Draco was amazed at how human Luna was acting. He had always known her as an oddity and nothing more.

"Thank you."

They stood hugging each other for some time in the otherwise empty house. Straining to keep his emotions in, Draco focused on Luna's black hair. It didn't suit her in the least, but he guessed that was what made it such a great disguise.

After a little while, Luna spoke once more. "You know, my father always told me that when Death is choosing who to take away, he picks the most beautiful people. Just like us in a garden. We pick only the most beautiful of flowers." Draco choked back a sob at Luna's wisdom. She hummed and pulled Draco close. Her voice became muffled in his cotton tee-shirt, "That's what he did with my mum."

The two stood there in silence. They held each other. Draco felt a slight dampening on his chest. He felt in on his cheeks as well.

"I know without a shadow of a doubt that your mother has made a stunning addition to Death's garden."

Not being able to hold in the stubborn tears in any longer, Draco gently pushed Luna away. He wordlessly left the witch standing barefoot beside her ruined artwork and rapidly cooling soup as he headed up to his temporary bedroom.

Once inside his sanctuary with the four poster bed, Draco stiffly closed the window by his dresser. He placed heavy silencing spells all around the room and smothered the door in sound-suppressible magic. The carpet met his knees in a harsh jolt soon after as he screamed for his mother until he was sure his vocal cords were bleeding.

AN - Also, I'd love your feedback about who I should do more POVs of and who's POV you enjoy reading the best. I appreciate all kinds of input. Thank you for your support. :)