A/n: I started working at a new job, so it's a day late. From now on updates maybe a day or two off at most, but that's it! I'm just warning you, but updates will continue to be as quick as possible.

Big thanks to my beta Tessa Cresswell! **Not yet edited.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.

Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.

Part 1: A History Together, 1483 (Life One), age 13

Lowell Belmont Malfoy and Penelope Elliana

"Lowell," Penelope said, inclining her head from her spot on the stone bench to the approaching man. He was only slightly shorter then her own small frame, but height would come with the years he had not yet lived.

"Lady Penelope," he said in a half-formal tone, coming to stand beside the young woman but not to sit with her. His blond hair, unlike his father, Belmont, was a darker blond worn long and tied with a leather thong to keep the hair from his eyes. Her own tresses lay in a heavy up do on her head, the brown curls confined too tightly for her liking. "It is a pleasant day."

She chuckled. "Pleasant? The weather is marvelous today Lowell."

Lowell Malfoy was the eldest son of Belmont Malfoy the II, with three younger sisters and a brother to follow him. Later on, after his death, those three girls would meet an untimely end during a fire at a store they loved so much, leaving the youngest son to be the heir; Dimitri Malfoy.

His dark grey eyes looked upon the girl in front of him with nothing but admiration. He had known Penelope since he was nothing but a baby, and had been by her side every year since. Everyone in the town knew they were the closest of close friends; he would often be seen escorting the young beauty to shops while their mothers sat nearby speaking of this or that. Lately those plans had changed, however, after her mother's death only a few weeks before. Now the young heir had to drag his friend to places for the girl to see the outside world at all.

Penelope would be a beautiful, sought-after woman when she grew older, and he was certain she would have multiple marriage proposals. The dark brown hair flattered her pale complexion, and green eyes sparkled with humor when she laughed. The girl was alive, and she was moving into her prime. Lowell did not want to think about the buffoons he would see her wandering with, for it would only cause him a headache. Try as he may, he could never force the idea of marriage to Penelope from his mind. She was so beautiful and kind, but her father would never have her marry a Malfoy, when the men had been known to be disloyal.

Of course, he did not worry about this when the two went out together, for he knew they were too young. Thirteen was a young time to begin such habits, and he was certain Belmont's son would never tarnish his name by bothering a virgin women. He only seemed to fear the idea of the pair marrying, much to Lowell's annoyance.

The blond shrugged at her. The crisp September air was blowing past them, and he thought it was just too warm out. Penelope however was drinking in the sun, and he would not put a damper on the girl's mood.

He sat beside her, the rim of her parasol bumping lightly into his head. She did not adjust so he could sit both fully on the bench and without tilting his head, but the smile was evident on her face so he quickly reached over and took the piece away, collapsing it and setting it on the grass at their feet.

She frowned. "You should never take something so blatantly from a lady Mister Malfoy."

He chuckled this time and stood, defeating the purpose of taking her parasol. "Perhaps I shall return it then, if I may beseech a question."

"Thou ask so little. Ask away, and I may answer thine question."

He smirked, a trademark that would always stay with him. Reaching for her hand, he clasped it and the girls turned face snapped around. "I ask thou, my fere, to accompany me to Lord Nott's ball in a fortnight."

The girl in front of him smiled. "I am glad thou asked. Now I dost not go with the Lord's son."

His chest tightened at the mention of Lord Nott's son. He was a conniving boy, who would weasel his way in beside the girl. Her father would probably have a fit over the whole thing. "Then I am happy to help."

Penelope was in her room, brushing her hair the following night when a sharp hit attacked her window. Setting down the brush cautiously, she wandered to the second story window and peered out, seeing naught.

Deciding it was nothing, she turned to go back to her vanity, when a second sharp noise entered her ears. Whipping around, she saw naught, again.

Curious now, she walked to the window and gently opened it, peering out. The dim light barely illuminated the ground beneath her, where she could make out the form of someone on the ground.

"Hello fair maiden," he called up sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. Could not Lowell simply come up to visit? It was not too late. "Sir thou could simply request to come into the home."

The brunette beauty watched blond hair move back and forth, and she realized that his hair was down for once. "Thine father would be most upset for my visit at such a late hour."

"Then why did thou come in the first place?"

She could nearly hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "I wished to see thou. Our trip to the new shop was canceled yesterday so thou could have a lunch with Henry Krum."

Penelope's face dropped at the mention of her guest earlier. Henry Krum had little eyes that followed you everywhere, and seemed to see beneath what you were wearing. The tone of voice he used was rough and he dismissed any topic of conversation she tried to think up.

"Krum was nothing but horrible company," she said dismissively.

"But why is that, fair maiden?"

"Stop with that," she said, a smile gracing her features at his silly-talk. "Thou knows I dislike that phrase."

"But of course," the blond drawled. "We canst not continue to talk as we art, Penelope. Thine father will hear and cometh to see what thou is dost."

She frowned. "Yes, thou art right."

"Perhaps thou would climb down to speak with me?"

The girl laughed quietly. "Now thou art crazy! I will not climb down a stone wall."

"Perhaps I shall cometh up then?"

She stopped her laughter immediately and considered his words. He had scaled the side of her home once before, but there had been a bit of vines to grasp a hold of. Now the walls would be sleek and smooth. "Thou can not. The walls no longer have anything to hold on by."

He chuckled from below. "Thou dost not look at thine walls too often. The stone is uneven from centuries work. Tis easy to scale."

She scoffed. Now he was playing her. "Thou lies."

"Shall I prove thee wrong?"

The girl glanced around her room. The servants would be in bed, and her father and elder brother would not disturb her so late unless they heard the two conversing. But of course, they had done this once before, when her mother passed.

Turning back, she called down quietly, "If thou believes he canst dost so at all."

Even from above, she heard him scoff. "Go back to brushing thine hair woman. I will be up in naught a few minutes." She rolled her eyes and turned without response, deciding to slip into her nightwear and a respectable robe before he reached her floor, if at all.

She pulled on a pale blue nightdress, careful to not catch her hair in the top buttons. The fine, darker blue robe she pulled over that made her modest enough to speak with her fere. After finishing, she braided her hair and stepped from behind the screen to find Lowell lounging on one of her three chairs.

The girl gaped unbecomingly for a moment, but whipped the look off her face when he smirked. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared at the cocky man before her.

"Now how did thou dost that?"

He laughed quietly. "I already told thee, Penelope." His hand extended and patted the chair beside him, asking her to cometh sit. She obliged, sitting beside him and crossing her legs daintily, looking away from him. "Tis troubling thou, is it?"

Her head stayed facing away. "Thou dost not know what he is speaking of."

The blond rolled his eyes and reached over to clasp her hand tightly. "Of course I do, Penelope. I dost know what today is."

The girl's head snapped around and met his eyes. "Thou know?"

He nodded solemnly. "Isaac told me earlier on when I saw him." Isaac was her older brother and only sibling.

Penelope's face crumbled a little bit. "I dost not want thou to know. Now thee will be worrying about me, when thou should not."

He frowned deeply. "Of course I should worry Penelope! Thou tis my best fere, after all."

She nodded solemnly. "I dost not think it would hurt so."

The blond watched her stray tears beginning to spill over, the ones that had been trapped in her tear ducts from the moment he mentioned it. Of course it would hurt her; who would not be hurt by it? Clasping her hand with the other, he brought both over towards him and kissed the knuckles. "Of course it hurts so, sucré. It would hurt anyone."

"I know," she sighed. "But I thought I would be okay. Now, I am not so certain. It hurts so much, Lowell." Her tears continued to come.

He reached out and traced a finger along her shoulder blade; such an intimate act that had not bothered her in a long time. Lowell knew how to be sweet to her, caring, compassionate when she needed him to be. Easing over she rested her head against his chest and softly cried.

The action caught him off guard. They rarely went so far as to touch this much, and the only other time had been the night her mother died. At the time he had been fully prepared for the contact, because such an awful thing had occurred. Now however, he had not realized that the woman's birthday would bring on this onslaught of emotions as well. He wrapped two comforting arms around her nonetheless.

He had no idea how long they sat there like that, but at some point he noticed the girl had fallen asleep. Needing to return to his own home, he picked up Penelope- surprised to find her so very light- and placed her on the large bed nearby. Pulling the covers up her body so that she was covered, he could only imagine what would be thought of him if anyone ever heard he had been up here at this hour, tucking someone who was not his wife or family, into bed.

Discarding the thought, Lowell turned and headed to the window, ready to make the dangerous trek back down the wall. Passing by the window, he spotted a ring. Golden, far too small to ever fit his fingers but dainty enough to fit hers. It was such a simple piece, that he hoped she would not mind its disappearance. Pocketing the ring, he climbed over the windowsill. She didn't need to know he had taken it.

The ring was not in his pocket because he planned to hawk it; he wanted something to remember her by when he lost her to someone else, later in life. For he knew, they would not be allowed to be together unless they ran away, and she could never do that to her family.

Part 2: Troublesome Communications, 1999 (Life Six)

Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger

She twiddled her thumbs at the lunch table the following morning. Ron and Harry were both discussing some sort of prank they wanted to play, but she could not focus enough to be enthused. Her strange 'vision' from Malfoy had caused her a difficult sleep last night and the issue was still on her mind this morning. Today her back was to him, so she did not notice his staring eyes. Harry and Ron, engrossed in their conversation, didn't notice anything.

The vision had seemed so real, but it could mean nothing. Her family was full of muggles, so there would be no connection from the past. Besides, the repetitive dreams last night of that same wedding scene, slightly altered, proved she did not have a real memory of any event like that.

Right?

She wanted to scream. It was frustrating to think that Malfoy really had hurt her head, and now she had no idea what to do to get him back. His strange little "I'm going to give you a massive headache through the process of decoding a fake vision" game was not cool. She could not figure out how he had learned to conjure something so detailed like that from nothing, but she was determined to figure out what all of this meant and then get back at him for being such a bother.

She began pushing her food around on her plate, annoyed that she was so hung up on it. Her mind was elsewhere when Ron reached over and shook her arm gently. "Hermione?"

She finally glanced up again. "Yes Ron?"

He exchanged a glance with Harry. "We've been trying to get you to talk and you've completely ignored us. Are you sure you are alright?"

She knew he was referring to yesterday; her strange departure from potions was still unexplained, and although Harry and Ron had offered to beat the git up, she declined. She wasn't sure what they would be beating him up for… yet.

Their first hour was transfiguration, and Hermione departed a few minutes later to head to the class, ignoring the urge to look over and see if there was a blond spying on her like yesterday. She walked briskly from the hall, hoping to head to the library and investigate the vision for a few minutes before heading to class,- but Harry and Ron didn't know that.

You're too hung up on this! It's just a prank; there's nothing to investigate. You are not at legilimency. You did not look into his mind… he pushed into yours? But, that doesn't exactly make sense… oh, now I have to go research!

Turning a corner she heard hurried footsteps behind her and turned to face a redhead running after her. Ron's long strides brought him to her quickly. "Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his head shyly.

She cocked an eyebrow. Oh dear, what's going on. "Hi," she said, continuing on her way to the library with Ron at her side. She would need to get there either way, although the redhead looked like he would prefer to just stand in one spot.

"So Hermione," he said, looking off in the opposite direction of her. She studied him curiously as they walked. "I was wondering- I mean, would you like to go on a date with me for the Hogsmeade trip this weekend?"

That stopped her all together. Not only was this question coming from nowhere, but she had completely forgotten about the Hogsmeade weekend. Head duties would do that. It was completely unusual for students to be given a trip like this barely after school started back up, but they had done so to relieve some leftover tensions from the war. Students still had a hard time co-existing, and professor's probably hoped the change in atmosphere so early on would set the student body up for a friendlier school year. Hermione thought it was a load of rubbish.

But Ron's question was terrifying. His on-again-off-again relationship/fling with Lavender Brown was risky. Many people had been screwed over by the two for dating one or the other while they were "off-again".

Besides, she had been hurt by Lavender before and would not be again. "No Ronald," she said sharply, "I will not."

He frowned and grabbed her arm to stop her. "Is this about Lavender? Hermione, we are through-"

"You say that every few weeks! That's why no one will date the pair of you; it would be a waste of time. I will not be your fallback for a bit until you and that… girl come to terms with dating again."

"We're not getting back together; it's over for real this time-"

"For some reason Ron," she said, pushing her bag up her shoulder and removing his hand, "I don't believe that." She turned and walked briskly down the corridor, nearly to the library but now she would just have to head to transfiguration because of the delay. She needed those few extra minutes to locate some books. It would have to be done later.

And try as she may, she could not force the pain out of her chest. He hurt her the first time with Lavender in their sixth year, and now he did it all the time. Her crush was still there, but it had dwindled down to nearly nothing after watching the sickening couple parade around so much.

But knowing he saw her as a fallback was so much worse.

The blond boy had not gone to breakfast that morning, instead opting to sleep in. Fuck breakfast, he could locate a meal later. His dreams had been plagued by memories of her he could never forget, and he had spent a majority of the night flipping back and forth.

He had his second class of the day with Granger; Arithmancy. She was sitting at his side looking somewhere between angry and hurt. The part of him that knew her intimately wanted to reach over and comfort her, but the logical side of him that had to deal with the fact that they hated each other in this life kept to himself. She was already confused by him recently, it seemed.

When they were set to work in partners, she kept quietly to herself while the majority of the class began talking. The brunette would neither meet his eyes nor speak to him. After a few minutes he cleared his throat and she finally looked up.

"We are supposed to work together you know, Granger."

She straightened a bit. "Does that mean you need help then?"

He rolled his eyes. "Hardly, but the professor has been glaring at us for several minutes, so you may as well stop ignoring me and work with me."

She frowned but said nothing, just leaned a bit to gaze at his blank paper. She looked back skeptically. "Are you sure you just don't need help? This is the advanced class you know."

"I know what it is," he snapped, noticing then that her eyes were slightly red, like she had been crying before class. He frowned, wondering what had caused that.

After a few more minutes of arguing, they finally got to work. He even remained good and did not ask about her eyes or her departure the day before, and instead focused on their assignment. They were the first ones done. Satisfied with her work, she leaned back in her seat stretching.

He frowned and looked away, adverting his eyes. It reminded him too much of his Penelope, and if he planned on thinking about it, it would probably be best to not look at her, in case she toppled to the floor again.

Lowell Belmont Malfoy and Penelope Elliana, 1489, age 19

She stretched beside him on the blanket, shy eyes looking at the ground. His strong grip locked under her chin and forced the girl to look at him. "Dost not be ashamed," he whispered. "We shall be gone soon."

"Thou has found our way to leave?"

He nodded, leaning over to kiss her tenderly, her bare body separated from him by a sheet. He chuckled at this, for after what they had done, the sheet was useless. He had seen her and she had loved it. "Yes, for I could never send thee back to him."

She nodded, looking up into his eyes. "The wedding is only a fortnight away. I shall have to live with him soon, in our separate rooms. We shall have to depart before then."

"And we shall. Meet me on November 26, at the old gates by Lord Parkinson's home. The family tis gone until after winter. He shall take us into the next city from there, but be quick love. We canst not be late, else someone may see."

Penelope nodded, her dark curls fanned around her. "I shall be on time."

"Meet me at dusk."

"I shall," she replied. "I shall tell father that I am going to see Mary Collins for the night."

He smiled, kissing her. "Then I see thee in five days, my sweet."

He shut off the memory. That was one of the most painful times to relive. That had been the series of events that led to both their deaths, but it was also his favorite memory. It was the closest he had ever gotten to the girl, in any lifetime. That was the only lifetime both parties had been in love, and he cherished it, for it may be the only time she would ever fall in love with him.

He sighed and relaxed in his chair, waiting for class to be over.

"Malfoy," Hermione said not a minute later. He inclined an eyebrow but barely turned his head to her. "What was the stunt you pulled yesterday in potions?"

"Excuse me?"

She glared. "That trick you did; the one with that silly vision. What was that- a way to distract me or something?"

His heart stopped cold as she spoke. What have I done? "What are you taking about Granger," he snapped instead.

The girl frowned. "Don't play stupid Malfoy; you know what I'm talking about."

Yes I do. "I have no bloody idea what you are implying."

She huffed. "Sure you don't- else you just refuse to tell me."

"Go with the latter Granger; it's closer to the truth."

"So you do know what I am talking about!"

The bell rang and he collected his things. "So what if I do?"

She hurried after him, both dropping their papers off to the teacher. "Stop playing around Malfoy, you're trick isn't funny. I've had a headache since then." Why did I just admit that?

Yes, that happens. He shrugged and headed off to where he was Blaise and Daphne standing. "Well, that's not my problem then."

"Malfoy," she hissed as he walked away. The brunette considered following him just then but declined; they had their next class together after all, and there would be nowhere for him to rush off to then.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said, walking up to her with an annoyed Ron. She ignored the sour redhead for the moment, opting to speak to her famous friend, while the other sulked.

After dinner, Hermione made her way up to the library like she had planned. Among the stacks of books she located seven that seemed the closest to what she was looking for, and began to read.

Past lives can often affect who you will be in the future. A person who often sins and does little to help anyone may return as a poor person, who needs to find a better way of accepting things; a spoiled rotten child may return as an unhappy civilian who has to scrape to keep his/her home. Each path we take in the past can determine where we go in the future.

There are instances where strong connections from friends and family can cause one to return to the same sort of situation they have had before. You may encounter "ancestors" of people from your past, who are actually reincarnations of those former friends.

The act of reincarnation is not fully understood in-

She shut the book and tossed it aside. That was doing her no good, as far as she could tell. She picked up another and began reading. The book was entitled "Reincarnation Facts and Resources", and although it really had nothing to do with visions and such, it had come when she flicked her wand, so it may have some sort of use.

It was a small section of a bigger novel, but the first part was like a question and answer sheet.

What is Reincarnation?

Reincarnation is the concept that souls are continuously reborn in different bodies at different times and places. Many belief systems around the world embrace reincarnation, including Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, Jainism, and a variety of New Age religions. Each religion professes different beliefs about the cause and purpose of reincarnation, but some facts remain consistent. In most every case, reincarnation is a natural and very important part of the development of a soul; it is the process of struggling against some negative force, such as desire or karma, toward a higher state of being; and it applies to all human beings, if not all living creatures.

What do metempsychosis, the cycle of rebirth, and transmigration of the soul mean? Where do they come from?

Metempsychosis,also known as the transmigrationof the soul, is a concept from ancient Greek philosophy. It refers to the journey of the soul from one incarnation (fleshly host) to the next. The soul is released from the body by death and exists briefly in a pure spiritual state before returning to a new body. Thecycle of rebirthrefers to the continuous process of transmigration and rebirth that attends the history of every soul. Plato is considered the "father" of these beliefs in Western thought; however, they are prominent in many Eastern religious systems.

Is there any evidence of reincarnation?

Reincarnation, like anything that takes place after death, is very difficult to study. The evidence of reincarnation comes from the study of incidents where people seem to remember places or people from a distant past. There is also déjà vu and the phenomenon of "old souls" – that is, people (including children) who conduct themselves with an aura of wisdom far beyond their years. Past-life regression therapy, including hypnosis and other methods, has purportedly been used to uncover memories and hidden psychological dynamics related to past lives. Purely scientific evidence is more scant. Some believers point to the laws of thermodynamics, which state that energy – perhaps even the energies of which a soul is made – can neither be created or destroyed, but must remain constant. Understood this way, the idea may support reincarnation.

How can I know if my significant other and I knew each other in a past life?

Intuition helps here. If you and your significant other seem drawn to one another in a way that is uniquely compelling – beyond even "love at first sight" – and seem to "know" each other far longer than you have in this life, this may be considered a sign that you have met before. Lovers who have been together in previous lives are said to be harmonious and share an unspoken understanding. Their personalities tend to complement and complete one another, though they arenotimmune to the normal problems of relationships. Be aware that loves in past lives may have been stormy and troubled, and that being re-acquainted with a past lover is no guarantee of "perfect" happiness.

She frowned. This book seemed to be nothing but a thin binding of rubbish too. She flipped to the next section, which seemed only lightly more interesting. The second part was entitled "Evidence of Past Lives Being Remembered Through Visions". I'm never going to get anywhere reading this nonsense! If anyone saw me reading this book I would be admitted to the Hospital Wing.

Past Regression - Jenny Cockell- The True story of a Woman Who has Lived Before. Mother of yesterday's Children

She groaned at the title.

Jenny Cockell was just an ordinary Northamptonshire housewife. She was also a mother of two children, But there was nothing ordinary about her. Over the next few years, she not only believed that she had lived before, as an Irish woman called Mary Sutton who was born in 1897, but she 'found' her children still living in Ireland.

Her story starts just before her fourth birthday. She began to remember herpast lifein small snatches and pictures, and for a long time she never mentioned it to anybody because she believed that everybody had the same feelings and experiences. The most vivid of the memories was a very disturbing one. She dreamt of her own death. Or should I say Mary's death. She was also aware that Mary had been 35 years old and had just given birth to her eighth child. She could 'see' the hospital where it was happening, and she felt very strong feelings of guild and sorrow that she was leaving her children.

The feelings never left her, and, after experiencing these memories for some time, she suddenly decided to draw a map where she believed these strange things had happened. She just knew that it was in Ireland, she was quoted as saying, ' I just felt so sad that I had left them, I realised then that I had to go back, so I got out a map, and I instinctively kept pointing to Ireland. After a while I was drawn to a place called Malahide. I just knew this was my home town'.

But life got in the way, and she was still only a child. It was a few years later when Jenny got married and had her own children, that the feelings and memories surfaced again. Only this time they were she started to think about tracking down Mary's family in Ireland.

Jenny stated that if she were to trace the family, she wanted to make sure she did it right. No mistakes and not the smallest doubt. It had to be the right house, the right family, and even more importantly, get the names dates and children's names correct. So she consulted a hypnotist who dealt with regression therapy. The funny thing was, that Jenny was very much a sceptic, she didn't really believe iin anything like reincarnation or any other type of psychic phenomena. That I think, Is what makes this story so incredible. She felt uncomfortable with the whole story, and was afraid she was going to make a fool of herself. So after undergoing regression, and realising that this was not going to go away, she decided to make the trip to Ireland.

Still consulting her maps that she had drawn, she took out a map of Ireland and studied in detail a real map of Malahide. To her surprise, she realised that it was very similar to the one she had drawn from memory. This gave her the final push to undertake the journey back in time, to see if she could understand, and find, the home and family that she had 'left' many years before.

She arrived in Malahide, which is north of Dublin, and decided the best course of action would be to check out any records she could find in the church records.

The records showed that there had been a Mary Sutton who had lived and died in Malahide, and her eight children had been left to various relatives, and some had been placed in orphanages. She decided that if she was going to do this properly she would get in touch with the local newspapers, and also write letters to all the churches, to find out as much as she could. By this time, any sort of embarrassment or doubt was quickly beginning to disappear. She knew in a way that nobody else could understand, that this was real.

With the help of letters to foster homes and the historical societies, she realised that if this didn't work, nothing would.

Hermione slammed the book shut. This was useless! She was letting a blond git get the best of her, and now she had wasted a god hour reading nothing more then… fairytales, if one could even call this idiocy that. She could not believe she had just read that! And Merlin, this book didn't even have proper grammar! How did this author ever get published?

She returned every last book to its shelf, before picking up her bag and storming from the library. Oh, when she patrolled with that git tonight, they would have a lot to discuss.

The girl paused, checking the time. It was almost nine. Merlin, I forgot about patrol!

Draco was leaning against a pillar when Granger finally rounded a croner, looking highly annoyed. He wondered what exactly had the girl in a bad mood now. She always seemed to be in a bad mood to him.

"Granger," he said, nodding his head.

"Malfoy," she spat, not even pausing beside him. "We're patrolling together tonight,"

He frowned. "Excuse me? Granger that will take twice as-"

"We need to talk," she cut in, thoroughly annoyed after her useless reading. Malfoy was going to tell her the damn spell tonight if she had anything to say about it.

Malfoy blinked, slowly following. What was she going to ask?

A/n: Sorry a lot of this is mostly reading from Hermione's books, but I needed to get it out that she is very confused about the situation and its bugging her- and that she has no idea what she's looking for :) Let me know your thoughts and I'll have the next update up quick as possible! No .com's added so the site will allow!

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