A/N: Hi guys, welcome to chapter 2! Thanks for all my reads, and for my reviews, I really appreciate the support. Shout out to Mystery of the Night, who got the Brennan &Booth from Bones, and a Shout out to Jen410 who got all four couples: Mulder & Scully - the X-Files; Meredith & Derick - Greys Anatomy; Rabb & MacKensie - Jag; and Brennan & Booth - Bones.
No hidden gems to find in this one, hope you enjoy!
Chapter II
Hermione and Draco appeared with a crack outside the gates of Malfoy Manor, and immediately Hermione's mood further deteriorated. It was dark, cold, and raining; within thirty seconds they were both soaked through to their skin.
"Well, however far back we've travelled, we can at least be certain we're no longer in summer," Draco commented.
"I'm not appreciating your attempt at humour – can we maybe move towards the doors and find some cover?" Hermione suggested.
It was then that Draco noticed that the large iron gates were swung wide open.
"The gates are open," he declared, unnecessarily.
"I can see that," Hermione said impatiently, starting to walk through them and down the driveway.
"No, you don't understand," Draco explained, successfully keeping in step with her but failing to keep the panic out of his voice. "The gates are never open: they have been magically sealed shut, since the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy, so that only certain witches and wizards can enter."
Hermione's heart plummeted – the Statute of Secrecy was imposed in 1692.
"So what you're basically telling me is that this circumstance is a huge tick in the box against our pre-1666 theory."
"Yes," Draco admitted. "Once again, it seems we're screwed."
"More so than we originally thought," Hermione said slowly, as they approached the house. Candlelight flickered from an extraordinary amount of windows, and the closer they came to the manor, the more unmistakable were the sounds of revelry coming from within. "It appears we're about to crash a party."
"So much for a low profile," Draco muttered as they ascended the stairs, "the fewer people we see the better."
"I was thinking more along the lines of our attire might not be suitable to whatever era we've found ourselves in." Hermione snapped, as Draco pulled the bell on the door.
Draco's eyes widened as he turned to survey Hermione's outfit. She was wearing her standard outfit for sitting in the office, consisting of a black, high-waisted, pencil skirt with a figure hugging, pastel blue blouse. As their work would often take them out into Muggle populated areas, Draco had become accustomed to Muggle attire and so was wearing a standard, tailor-made suit, consisting of dark grey pants, and a crisp white shirt. When they had dressed for work that morning, they were in the middle of summer, and the weather too warm for a tie and jacket. Thankfully, they were both wearing their long, black, work-cloaks, which they both instinctively pulled tighter around themselves to hide their modern clothing underneath.
"Shit. I never even thought of that." Draco muttered, just as the door opened to reveal a confirmation of all their fears, so startling that both would have laughed if their situation hadn't seemed quite so dire.
The man that faced them stood tall and proud, wearing a blank expression of formal courtesy. His hair was long, and tightly curled and fell down past his shoulders in such perfection Hermione suspected it was a wig. His attire was elegant, but not overly so – fine, to be sure, but simple, indicating his status as a servant to the extremely wealthy. He wore full breeches gathered at the knees, with a lightly-ruffled long sleeved shirt and cravat underneath a long coat, finished with a pair of square-toed shoes.
"How may I help you?" The man asked, addressing Draco.
Draco's eyes widened in clear shock for a moment as he surveyed the sight in front of him, before clearing his throat. "My apologies for the intrusion, but I wish to see the Head of the House, urgently." Draco said.
"And who might you be, sir?" The Butler asked.
"My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. I'm a…" Draco thought wildly for some reasonable form of relationship – 'a relative from the future' just wasn't going to cut it.
"- Distant cousin. We're not expected, but we would welcome some shelter."
The butler gave Draco a quick once-over, his eyebrows quirked slightly at his strange apparel, but stood to the side eventually to allow them into the house. "If you would wait here a moment, I will alert Lady Alara of your presence."
The butler closed the door behind them, before turning and leaving Hermione and Draco standing in the large entryway. The pair were silent for a moment, both digesting the scene they had just witnessed.
"What in the name of Merlin was he wearing?" Draco said after a moment.
"Do the Malfoys ever throw ridiculously authentic costume parties?" Hermione asked.
"No," Draco stated, in a tone that suggested Hermione was certifiably crazy for even humouring such a notion. "And house-elves answer doors in Malfoy Manor, not humans."
"In that case, we've narrowed down our potential time-period: that was a legitimate, seventeenth century butler." Hermione looked up at Draco, with clearly displayed panic in her eyes; "we're in the 1600's, Malfoy. We're in a house full of your seventeenth century ancestors!" she hissed.
"Granger, calm down," Draco bit back at her, beginning to get just as wound up as she was. "You're starting to freak out again and we do not have time for another meltdown. And if you freak out, I'm going to freak out-"
"How are you not panicking?" Hermione demanded, her whisper becoming shrill. "We are royally screwed-"
"Not necessarily," Draco argued. "Let's not be melodramatic. For starters, if anyone is going to be open minded about our situation, it's Lady Alara. A lot of names in the Malfoy family are re-used. But there was only one Alara – her name was never used again, as she became quite the black sheep of the family, to the point of almost being disowned."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "And how is that going to help us?"
"She was known for her lavish parties, and her interest in experimental magic, she was also the most Muggle friendly of all my ancestors. It was rumoured she was a King's mistress – though which King, I can't remember, I'm not great at remembering the history of the Royals. And it's also believed that she associated with pirates – she travelled a lot, I think she may even have had a brother who was a pirate - or was it a cousin?" Draco pondered for a moment before shaking his head and bringing his thoughts back to the present.
"Not that it really matters right now - of course his name is never mentioned, so I don't remember it off the top of my head, though it's similar to hers, I think. Anyway, she was open-minded about a lot of things, apparently, so if any Malfoy is going to listen to us - believe us and help us - it will be her."
"How can you possibly know that?" Hermione asked, scepticism dripping from her words.
Draco shrugged, "I've spoken to her a couple of times - her portrait hangs in the Manor...or it will do." Draco frowned, confusing himself with the semantics of their current situation. "I know she'll help us," he was about to say something further but stopped when he heard the clicking of two pairs of shoes coming back down the hallway towards them.
The Butler came around a corner, followed by a beautiful young woman with the signature Malfoy platinum-blonde hair that was curled and tied in a large bun at the back of her head, with tight curls framing her face and falling to rest on her exposed shoulders. She wore an elegant gown of pale blue muslin; the bodice was tightly corseted with a low broad neckline and dropped shoulders, and the sleeves were full and loose, ending just below the elbow.
"These are the two who requested you, My Lady." The Butler announced.
She surveyed Draco and Hermione thoughtfully, before flashing them a genuine smile.
"Well, you sir, do have the Malfoy look about you, that is for certain." She said at Draco, before turning her eyes to Hermione, "You do not. You do, however, look cold which is not surprising given your apparent lack of clothing. Come, join me in the library and warm yourselves by the fire. Jarvis, see that some wine is sent up," She said to the butler, who bowed and disappeared.
"Now," the woman demanded in a tone of authority, as she led them down the hallway. "Do tell me who you are, and how you come to be here."
Hermione looked warily at Draco, who simply shrugged and followed trustingly. "It would be better if we explained in the Library, to avoid being overheard."
Lady Alara looked back at them and flashed them a wicked grin, "It sounds as though there is a hint of scandal in your tale, how delightful."
When they were shown into the Library, Hermione immediately made for the fire where she let her robe fall open to allow the heat to permeate onto her body.
""What are you wearing?" Lady Alara cried in wonderment, noticing Hermione's outfit. "Where are the rest of your clothes?"
Hermione gave a grimace, "These are my clothes," she explained, "This is what one wears where we come from."
"And where is that?" Alara asked.
"The future," Draco said bluntly – there really was no way to sugar-coat the truth, but he could practically hear Hermione's eye-roll at his lack of tact.
Lady Alara looked at him in astonishment for a few seconds, before throwing her head back and laughing long and hard, clearly amused, while Hermione and Draco stood silent and serious. "The truth now, if you please," she said, after her laughter died away.
"It's true," Hermione said. "What year are we in?"
"You jest?" Alara said, though her mirth was fading at the seriousness coming from both Draco and Hermione.
"No jest," Hermione shook her head. "What year is it?"
"1663," Alara said slowly, taking a seat and looking warily between her two companions. "What you say is impossible: no one can travel through time."
"That's not what we wanted to hear," Draco mumbled.
"Unless," Alara said slowly, ignoring Draco's comment, "mayhaps Harrie wasn't so crazy after all."
"Harry? Harry who?" Hermione asked immediately.
Alara looked suspiciously at the two of them once again, "How can I be certain you are telling the truth?" She asked.
"Question us under Veriteserum if you like," Draco suggested, just as the door opened, and a maid entered carrying the wine which Alara had requested. When the door was closed Alara called out for a house-elf who promptly appeared.
"Mistress called?" The elf squeaked.
"Fetch me the bottle of Veriteserum, if you please," Alara commanded. The elf bowed and disappeared, returning almost instantly with a glass vial in hand. Alara took the bottle and the elf disappeared once more.
"I only need to question one of you, whom will it be?" She asked, pouring them all a goblet of wine, and adding three drops of potion to one of them.
Draco looked expectantly at Hermione who rolled her eyes, "be a gentleman, for once, Malfoy." She smirked, "we're in the seventeenth century now: blend with society."
"Fine." Draco huffed, taking the goblet with the potion with somewhat poor grace, "cheers."
"As you can see -" Hermione said to Alara, who was watching their exchange curiously, "-chivalry is almost a lost art form in the future."
After Draco had drained the goblet, Alara asked him two simple questions: "Where did you come from? And how did you get here?"
Draco gave a detailed account of the accident which occurred in the Department of Mysteries, and how it resulted in them being blasted into the past, where they found themselves in a cave, and explained how they came to Malfoy Manor looking for help.
Hermione could see, by the looks of confusion and interest that flittered across Alara's features throughout Draco's answers, that she had many questions, and did not fully understand all he said. But thankfully, the veritiserum had done its job, and Alara no longer distrusted their intentions.
"You really are from the future?" Alara breathed.
"Yes," Draco said, the veritiserum beginning to wear off, allowing him to add to his sentences, though still making him answer every question. "And we very much would like to get back there."
"Before you ordered the veritiserum, you mentioned someone named Harry," Hermione reminded Alara. "Who is that?"
Alara looked at them regretfully, "You must forgive me, I want to help you – and I will – but what I can tell you will take some time. I might be able to assist you – or at least, I can point you in the direction of someone who may be able to help, but it will have to wait until the morrow. Dinner is to be served in an hour; we had just retired to dress mere moments before your arrival. I have yet to change, but change I must - I cannot neglect my guests, particularly as His Majesty is the guest of honour." Alara explained.
Hermione looked at Alara for a moment, her face expressionless, digesting this piece of information. After a moment, she finally found her voice.
"You're entertaining King Charles the Second." Hermione clarified, and Draco was impressed that she could reel off the correct monarch off the top of her head.
Alara gave a wicked grin, such that only a Malfoy could accomplish, "He is fond of a good revel, and I happen to provide the best of entertainment." A sudden gleam caught in her eyes, that made Hermione and Draco wary. "You should join us."
Hermione was about to protest, and she shot Draco an almost panicked look – even Draco looked uncertain at the suggestion – but Alara stopped her before she could begin.
"You are stuck here, you have nowhere else to go, and we cannot accomplish sending you back tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself while you are here. It will be common knowledge that someone has arrived - to hide you would stir up unwanted questions. Come with me: I will take you to rooms in the guest wing – we'll find you some suitable clothes."
Alara stood and made toward the door. Draco and Hermione exchanged another wary look, "What's the worst that could happen?" Draco suggested, and Hermione gave him a withering look.
"Don't say that. Whenever anyone says that, the worst will inevitably happen, and it's often worse than we could have imagined," Hermione sighed, before shrugging and following Alara.
They made their way through a corridor, up a rather grand staircase and along more corridors; all the while Alara talked, becoming increasingly excited.
"Now, it might be beneficial for you to use different names while you are here – I don't know how well documented this time will be in general, but I know my family like to document everything. Should you do something memorable, that would turn into a story to be passed down through generations, it might be wise to disassociate your future selves from the past."
Alara looked thoughtfully at Draco, "You are quite clearly a Malfoy; there will be no point attempting to deny it, our resemblance is too much – and doing so may cause much unwanted attention. Better to hide in plain sight, I always say. But your first name we can change. Alaric," she declared after a moment's thought.
Hermione looked at Draco thoughtfully, "I can see that – you can pass as an Alaric."
Draco pondered the name, struggling to pull at a memory tugging at the corner of his mind. "Alaric…It seems familiar," he started slowly. "Wait: don't you have a brother named Alaric? Or perhaps a cousin? Yes! Alara and Alaric! But he was cast out of the family,"
Alara shook her head in confusion, "You are mistaken, I have no brother. And there is no one in our family with that name."
Draco frowned, "I'm sure there was an Alaric – nothing is really known of him, just that he left England, around this time I think. He was never seen again, nor spoken of again – I think he became a pirate, that's why he was cast out." He rambled, oblivious to Hermione's unimpressed expression.
"You have got to be kidding me!" Hermione exploded, as they came to the bedroom they were to be housed in, successfully drawing Draco's attention.
"What?" Draco asked, as Alara showed them into the cavernous chamber.
"Alara has no brother. She has suggested you take the name Alarac. I'm going to assume you will be taking it." Hermione pointed out the obvious, before exploding, "A pirate?!"
Draco's eyes widened as he realised what Hermione was saying, "I'm not a pirate." Draco insisted sounding slightly appalled.
"No, not right now, but apparently you will be." Hermione huffed.
"Or perhaps," Alara interrupted, "Alaric's disappearance is nothing more than your return to your proper time. If people mistake you for my brother, your sudden disappearance will incite comment. The story of piracy would be a perfect cover as to why you were no longer seen or spoken of by the family."
Draco breathed an audible sigh of relief. "See," he said to Hermione, "not a pirate. So, if I'm to be Alaric, who are you to be?"
Hermione thought, but it was Alara who answered, "Anamaria." Hermione had no objections, and nodded her agreement.
"I'll just keep calling you 'curly'," Draco said. "Easier to remember."
Hermione glared at Draco, "I will kill you. I mean it, I will. I have told you a thousand times: I hate that nick-name."
"Now, Alaric," Alara said, ignoring the bickering and moving through into an adjoining room, returning a moment later with a handful of clothing, "change into these. Anamaria, come with me into the dressing room, and we'll see about finding you the perfect gown," she said to Hermione, eyeing her critically. "I think red will sit well on you – I believe there is a fine ruby ensemble in the wardrobe here that will do very well."
A/N: A little bit of a short chapter, just to set the seen and get the story moving. The chapters will probably get a little longer as we go on. I'll have the next chapter up beginning of April :) Thanks for reading, please review :)
xBx