Authors Note: I own Nowt…

The Winner Takes It All

The gods may throw a dice

Their minds as cold as ice

And someone way down here

Loses someone dear

The winner takes it all

The loser has to fallIt's simple and it's plain

Why should I complain.

The Winner Takes It All-ABBA

The Department of mysteries seemed almost silent as the word flowed easily from the boys tongue. Hermione raised her eyebrows at the boy, what a silly thing to say to her. He was obviously not her son and he was just wasting her time.

'Excuse me young man, I think you have me confused with someone else' she said dismissively. She turned to walk away her bushy hair swinging as she spun.

'I think not mother,' the boys voice was silky and it reminded her of someone she'd rather forget. The anger rose in her at his impertinence.

'I am not your damn mother! And who do you think you are, speaking to me like that?!' Her nostrils flared and her hair crackled with angry magic. Despite her angry tone and the fire filled rage that was burning in her eyes, he smiled. Hermione was fuming now, he actually had the audacity to smile!

'They warned me you'd react like this. Father always told me when I was younger that you had a temper' The pain behind her eyes signifying the oncoming headache intensified and an intense white light of anger obscure her vision.

'Tell me who you are and what you want or I will hex you little boy. Don't think I wont!' He chuckled merrily.

'Oh, I know you will,' there was something comforting in his laugh and she felt her anger slowing ebbing away like the see on the shore. She breathed deeply the wind of breath blowing away the cobwebs of unpleasantness in her mind.

'Right, you calm now?' he asked in his smooth tones. Before she could stop herself, she nodded in dumb muteness. His smiled a sunny smile and began to speak.

'Well, I'm sure you know that there are many paths to the future but what I am certain you do not know about is the Gods.' She gasped in protest shaking her head at the wistful young man and his imaginative words.

'That's impossible, the Gods DO NOT exist. Do they?'

'You, above all people, should know that nothing is impossible. You, who bought Sirius Black back from the dead, you, who single handedly duelled six death eaters at once.' She looked around her as she felt the world slow down. The two no longer stood in the obsidian halls of the department of mysteries but in her alabaster stone office, the comfortable chair she usually sat on already under the backside of her supposed son. However apart from the melting sensation she had felt a few seconds before she had no recollection of how they had arrived there.

'How---' she began her stuttering speech, but he placed a finger to her lips and was soon interrupted by the silky tones of the boy in front of her.

'If you recall, I was telling a story. I shall recount the how's and why's at a later date. As I was saying, there are many roads to the future each one depending on the decisions we make. But sometimes the Gods feel the need to interfere, to create a certain… I believe you could say outcome. In your case, the birth of someone spectacular. In my future they have become restless and I, as your youngest, was sent to ensure that this occurs.' His voice finished on a haunting note that seemed to echo around the room. Hermione stared, slack-jawed, into his chocolate eyes so similar in shape and colour to her own. Flecks of grey flashed like mirrors reflecting the terrifying idea of a future she had no choice over. And a fear of the future that was hidden deep in her soul.

'I don't understand how this is possible. Who could I possibly have a child with that would make it so extraordinary?' Her musings were more to herself than to him, but he answered them nonetheless.

'There is a prophecy made by a lesser known seer named Lizzy Trelawney. She erased herself from time after an accident with time travel. They say she flitted between time zones as easily as apparation. But though she technically doesn't exist, her daughter remained and kept her prophecies for the use of the ministry Anyway, she prophesised this,

"He whose death bought great sorrow,

She who knows great knowledge,

May hearts of ages borrow,

For they hold the key in their blood."' Again the haunting note returned to his silky voice. The prophecy was vague and he knew that but what more could he do? She, however, smiled. The vagueness of the cursed prophecy was a blessing in disguise and it made her feel safe. It could be someone else's burden to carry through life, it could be someone else who must procreate with someone she didn't know!

'But that could mean anyone!' The last word in her sentenced was garbled with the happy laughter that lifted the spirits of any who heard it. He looked into her familiar eyes and saw that glee had replaced the fear that had earlier clouded them. His face was grave and sombre unmoved by the laugh which would usually have made him smile. The seriousness of this news would break her heart and it was no time for laughing.

'I'm so sorry mother. So terribly sorry. But it is all you. I know this with almost certainty and… well, your intelligent, I'll let you work out the rest' She knew he would speak no more for the moment. Until he was ready of course.

'So, the prophecy must happen to me. Well if it is love that requires the fulfillment I think I can live with it' she lied quickly seeing the destroyed expression on his face. A smile lit up his face.

'You're a terrible liar.' she laughed nervously and stared straight into those eyes. The fear she had been hiding finally showing honestly in her voice as she spoke her next words.

'If there's so much I must be can I still just be me? The way I am?' The boy stared at his mother. This woman who had been so strong in his childhood and whose fiery temper had made even his father back down over the years was being reduced to near tears by a sixteen year old boy. Without even thinking about his actions he wrapped his long arms around her. He felt her body shift into the comforting embrace. She inhaled his smell that seemed so familiar to her.

'You can do anything, I know you can' She nodded against his chest and pulled herself away from her son.

'Thank you, you don't know how much I needed that.' He nodded silently.

'I must say goodbye now mother. I love you,' he turned away from her before she could see the sheen of his own tears.

'Oh yes, before I forget take this and remember to follow your heart,' he put his pale hand in his pocket and pulled out a book. It red leather binding had been lovingly put together, the end papers were gold when she opened the first page and the smooth leather smelt like new book. Hermione turned the book in her hands feeling its smooth surface a sniffing the comforting scent. A photograph slipped out from under the cover as she turned it over in her hands. There she was, an older more wrinkled her but her nonetheless and she was surrounded by four teenagers. The two girls stood by her side and the two boys, one similar to the boy she had just met, had their arms round their sisters. But her husband was nowhere to be seen. The children's faces were magical to her. She ran her finger over their pale faces and imagined them. She imagined her children for a bit longer before slipping the photo back between the pages. On the front of the book she noticed some small gold letters. She read the gold lettering and her heart stopped. It read : This is the diary of Hermione Jean ---'

The music pumped loudly and the walls shook with the force of it. Ex dragon keeper Charlie Weasley stood on the other side of the bar, staring a Hermione sitting dejectedly on a bar stool. A headache was forming between her eyes, as the lights flashed around the dance floor of the club.

'Give me another Ogden's Charlie' Hermione demanded of the red headed bartender.

'Mia don't you think you ought to slow down?' Charlie glanced at her flushed face anxiously.

'Look Charlie, if I wanted a lecture, I'd go to Remus or Kim. Anyone but you' Charlie slipped the drink across the bar and walked away from the tipsy young woman. If she didn't want his help, he certainly wasn't going to force it on her. Not even noticing his disgruntled departure, she turned her head to the dance floor. Sirius, who she had freed from the veil the night that Lucius had died., danced excitedly between two blonde girls. The girls, for they could be barely out of Hogwarts, wore mini skirts and halter neck tops which showed their skinny bodies. A shot of the all too familiar jealousy coursed through Hermione's drunken body as she watched them rub unashamedly against Sirius. The feeling made bile rise into her throat and the headache between her eyes intensify. She had long had a crush on Sirius and when she saw him gyrating with the bimbos on the dance floor the jealousy rose again. She turned away quickly and stared into the amber liquid of her drink.

'Hey, you gonna get up and dance or what?' Sirius' voice was low and husky and his breath in her ear sent shivers down her spine. She spun round to find his face inches from her own. She gasped at the close proximity. Her mind and heart however were not paying attentions to her bodies reactions, they were focused on the visit from her son and the diary he had given her. Her mouth, totally unconnected from her mind worked of its own accord.

'I don't dance Sirius' she said sighing. 'Can I not just stay here with my fire whiskey?' Sirius frowned at her and studied her face. Since he had been rescued she had grown from the beautiful young woman who rescued him to the sexy but desperately sad woman who sad before him. She was smiling but her smile did not reach her sad brown eyes. In her eyes he could see confusion and misery that bought a tear to his own eyes. She was beautiful, smart and the kindest girl he had ever met and yet she hid herself away. Brooding. Brooding over the past that could not be changed.

'No. I bought you here to have fun and fun you shall have,' he held out his hand for her to take and felt a spark of electricity flow down his arm at her touch. He dragged her to the dance floor, her dragging her heels all the way. As the song began he wrapped his arms around her in a mock slow dance stance. She laughed merrily at his antics. And even he knew this was her first real laugh in a long time. On the sidelines Harry and Ron watched as their best friend danced comically with the older man. She was enjoying herself for the first time in three years and they felt terrible. How could they, who professed to love her so deeply, allow her to become so miserable and so fixated on the terrible incidents that had occurred? What kind of friends were they? Just then as they contemplated the doom of their friendship Ginny appeared beside them.

'She looks so happy doesn't she? You'd never know how depressed she is' The boys nodded in silence as the red headed girl voiced their fears.

Little did they know they were not the only ones watching the cheerful couple. In the shadows, away from prying eyes, a shimmering figure watched them dance. The music booming to the beat of his heart or at least it would. If it still beat.

I bet you can guess whose watching them. But can you find the quote hidden in the text?