A/n: Tada! Here's chapter 9. It's fairly short, and barely touches on the past lives, but some majorness happens and sets you up for later! Enjoy! Hope you like it! Big thanks to my beta Tessa Cresswell!

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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: Tense, 1999 (Life Six)

Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger

Hermione~

I will come in just over two weeks. Meeting you and Ron and Harry in Hogsmeade will be wonderful. I cannot wait to see you again.

~V. Krum

Hermione smiled down at the letter in her hands. It was breakfast the following morning, and she had just received Viktor's note. Having finished reading, she smiled.

"We will be spending the night in Hogsmeade next weekend," she said cheerfully, looking up at her two best friends across the table. "It's perfect! He comes on our Hogsmeade weekend and all- all we need to do is book two rooms, and it will all be great!"

Harry grinned. "Does it say how long he is staying?"

She shrugged, folding the letter up and placing it into her bag. "No, but I doubt he even knows yet. He will probably only be around one night, knowing his crazy Quidditch schedule. I'm surprised he can even spare us a day."

"He's not sparing us a day," Ron cut in, swallowing a large amount of food, "he's sparing you a day. Come on Hermione, the guy has been crushing on you since he took you to the Yule Ball in fourth year. If it were just me and Harry he was asking, he would probably only make time for a couple of hours. But he is making extra time because you'll be coming as well- he even owled you personally." She couldn't tell if there was bitterness or annoyance in his voice, but the ginger just didn't seem happy about the idea. "He'll be more excited to see you then either of us."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Quit being dramatic Ronald," she said, frowning. "He will be excited to see the both of you as well. Now come on- we're going to be late." Well, late for her. The two boys just shook their heads as she stood and left, glaring at them. She was always too early to class for them, and they could usually make it before the bell anyways.

The girl left the Great Hall without a backwards glance. They only ever accompanied her to class early when they were full and satisfied- and never when they had potions. But Hermione had a bone to pick with a certain blond, and a few extra minutes in class would work out fine for her; if the prick was there of course.

Then again, the blond had been acting strange lately. Half the time he avoided her, half the time he was throwing these unexplainable visions her way- and the git wouldn't even give her the grace of explaining them, not once. It was truly irritating, but she had yet to figure out how to convince him to explain. But oh, when she found the means to extract the answers, she would taunt him over his lost advantage! He held all the cards so long as she remained in the dark, but as soon as she understood things, it would be even playing ground. Depending on what all of this meant, maybe she would even have the upper hand in things; now wouldn't that be a turn of events!

But the question was, what was she trying to answer exactly? She knew she wanted explanations to what was being thrown her way, but she had absolutely no idea where that may lead her. How was she even involved? Hermione was so lost in her own thoughts as she entered Snape's room that she didn't even notice the Slytherin already sitting at their shared table. It wasn't until after she had sat down and dropped her bag that she even took notice of the boy, who was currently drumming his fingers on the desk.

He didn't say a word to her, but glancing over she noted the new cut he was sporting just above his brow, the wound having obviously never been tended to. That was odd, considering she had never thought of the blond as someone to sport marks that may ruin his appearance. The only time she could recall him sporting a wound was in third year when the Hippogriff 'nearly killed him'. Even just the thought made her scoff at the prick's arrogance, and he finally met her gaze.

"You're staring Granger," he snapped, the irritation in his voice obvious. "So do you mind? I know I'm attractive, but doesn't it go against your bloody hatred towards me to openly gawk?" He was sneering now, and she decided it was time to revert back to the olden days.

"Yes Malfoy," she replied coolly, crossing her arms, "that nice gash in your forehead is most appealing." The sarcasm in her voice was just as obvious as the irritation in his. "It adds a much needed rough side to your spineless personality."

He grit his teeth. Arguing with her like this was not nearly as enjoyable as it had once been, and sending cruel words back and forth just sent needles to his heart. He did not really want to be talking to her at the moment as it was. He had yet to figure out her plans with Krum, and he would be damned if he allowed Potter and Weasley to ever watch out for her again- and dead long before any 'Krum' ever got near her again. That entire family was bad news, and had been ever since Henry Krum's birth five centuries before; he could simply never trust them again- and what's more, he loved her and couldn't just willingly send her off to be alone with three irresponsible idiots who could very well get her killed again.

Instead of replying, he spun to face the front and practically slammed his head into the desk, ignoring the multiple heads that snapped around at the noise. Hermione herself blinked, surprised at his reaction. After all, what kind of lame argument was that? Since when did Malfoy give up so quickly?

Despite her prodding him with a thin text she had recently gotten from the library, he ignored her the rest of class. Annoyed, she gave up after only a few minutes, and left the room without a backwards glance. Meeting up with her two best mates outside the door, she rolled her eyes.

"He is so annoying," she said, falling into step beside the two, and glaring at Harry as he chuckled.

"Malfoy is never going to change," he replied, wrapping an arm around her to give her a squeeze, "but at least the two of you haven't ripped each other apart in class yet."

She shrugged his arm off, rolling her eyes, just as Ron quietly swore. "What is it?"

"I left my book for next class back in potions," he grumbled, turning on his heel. "'I'll meet you guys at Hagrid's for the creature class, alright?" The pair nodded, and Weasley turned on his heel to hurry back to Snape's room, hoping he could somehow still be on time.

Rounding the corner, he crashed head-on into Malfoy, who shoved the ginger back forcefully. "Watch it you prick," he said, brushing himself off. The fact that he had to speak with the ginger at all at the moment made his temper worse. He was already considering ways to keep Granger from going to see Krum- and figure out when that was bloody supposed to be- and dealing with Weasley, who was obsessed with her, wasn't going to brighten his mood. "Now get out of the way," he hissed, shoving past but Ron shoved back and drew his attention then.

"Going to find her?" he asked, crossing his arms.

The blond cocked an eyebrow. "Would it matter Weasley? I do share my next fucking class with her."

"You're bad for her," he spat, glaring daggers. "She's been holed up in the library more than usual trying to figure out something you did to her." He shoved the blond, who was so surprised that the redhead could even come up with a conclusion like that, didn't stop him and stumbled back two steps. "It's bad enough she spends so much time up there, but she's been tired too- probably because of whatever you did to her!" He took a menacing step forwards, but so did Malfoy.

"I'm surprised you can even deduce an explanation like that from so little evidence. Really, the only thing actually pointing to me is that it all probably started around the time she fell out of her chair in potions." He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow expectantly, trying to maintain his composure; he wanted nothing more than to hex the boy into the nearest pillar, but just barely restrained himself.

The ginger grit his own teeth. "Something's going on Malfoy," he spat, eyes narrowed, "you did something to her and you bloody well believe I'll figure out what." He stormed back past the Slytherin again, the same way he had come, his 'forgotten' book nestled safely in his bag. Draco was considering sending a hex at the retreating figure when the Gryffindor turned and shouted over his shoulder, "Besides, Krum is the one her attention is on, so stop wasting your bloody time!" And then he bolted around the corner, out of sight.

It had been obvious since Malfoy's threat that he had to feel something for her. Walking quickly to be on time to his next lesson, he hoped he had hit a nerve and pissed the blond off. Maybe now he would stop being so pesky.

If only he knew what he had started.

Part 2: Jayce, 1541 (Life Two)

Dreu Antoine Malfoy and Harmony Joan Potter

He held his son in his arms. The child had been born mere months ago, and holding his newborn baby, Acanthus Alaric Malfoy, in his arms was still a wonder. It was his first child ever- in both lifetimes. He had never got to having one in his first life, what with killing himself and all. But the child in his arms was precious, and it was his, even if he secretly longed for its mother to be another woman; how sinful was that?

Cradling the child's head carefully, he took a seat in the large living room of the Malfoy Manor, his wife off someplace else currently. The peace without her was nice, for although Anastasia was a wonderful woman and mother, her presence haunted him with the fact that he longed for another. Rocking his child gently in his arms, he tried to remember the last time he had even seen his Love.

It had been during the holidays, in 1540. She had looked radiant carrying her daughter Acacia in her arms. The baby would be three now, walking and talking in small phrases. The child had looked so much like her mother that it pained him; likewise, Dreu's own son was a perfect image of his wife, with only the blond's blue eyes to ever prove they had the same blood.

Resting his head on the back of the sofa, he pictured her. Long curly black hair, flowing freely down her back that day, her alcoholic husband holding her clumsily, and nearly dropping their child on the unforgiving ground; the way her eyes sparkled when she looked on at her offspring but lost their sheen when she gazed upon her husband- it was frightfully obvious that the two did not love each other one bit, and who could? She had married a drunk, and constantly had to see Alabaster- from what she told him last year. He cringed at the thought of her idiot husband allowing a man like that so close to his wife. Was Alexander really that blind to how Snape gazed on at her?

"Thou is about to drop Acanthus," a smooth voice said, catching his attention. Cracking one eye open, he turned his head to spot his best friend, Jayce Xavier Zabini walking towards him and tightened his hold on his son; it was true, the sleeping child had nearly tumbled from his lap in the blonds moment of carelessness. "Thou wife would never forgive thee."

Dreu chuckled darkly. "No, she rightly would not, she would but try to have my head for ending her baby's life." He knew that although Anastasia loved him in ways he did not deserve- since he could not return her feelings- Acanthus held more of her love. Truly, the majority of kind feelings in their marriage were centered on the baby in his arms. But Anastasia had gone out with one of her dear friends- Rochelle Clearwater- and would probably not return until late, so he had his son to himself.

And now Jayce, who was looking on at the blond with a raised eyebrow. He took a seat opposite Dreu, his strong features a deep contrast against the two pale white men before him. The Italian's sun kissed skin glowed lovingly in the dancing light of day, gracing small patches of the room in its warm beams. "Thou looks unhappy."

He rolled his eyes. "I am always unhappy."

"Thou make thyself unhappy," Zabini replied, reaching forwards to grab a hold of a candle, needing something to fiddle with, "If thou would but love thy wife as much as thou love someone thee can never have, then thou would truly be happy." He spoke sincerely, for he had not seen his friend smile in a long time; not truly smile.

Dreu sighed, looking away from him. "Thou dost not understand; I shall never truly be happy again."

Confused, Jayce looked on at his friend for a long time, but couldn't understand his meaning. How hard could it be to let someone go?

Part 3: Curiousity Killed the Cat, 1999 (Life Six)

Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger

The rest of Hermione's day had passed quickly; nothing eventful had happened, aside from Ron continually going on-in that same almost bitter tone- about Krum wanting her, and Harry continually trying to stay out of the conversation. That had really been the only eventful thing that happened, minus Malfoy's odd behavior, but really, when did the blond seem normal these days?

She was on her way back up to her dorm when someone's voice interrupted her calm thoughts, and she immediately drew her wand. It took several seconds for her to realize it was Malfoy's voice, carrying to her from someplace behind her. Was he following her? Their paths would separate not far ahead, and he would go left instead of right to his dorm, so that wasn't necessarily the case. Her mind told her to carry on walking and ignore him, but something made her flatten herself into a shadowed corner and wait for him to walk by; something had taken hold of her curiosity and told her to wait around for him, because she wanted to know just what was going on with him, and what better way than listening into his minds ramblings?

It didn't take long at all for the blond to round the corner, muttering to himself. Unfortunately, she could still only make out sounds and not words, like before. Frustrated, she accidently let out a sigh and caught the blonds attention as he was passing.

That did it. He had roughly grabbed her arm and jerked her from the dark space, pulling her arm behind her and pressing her against the wall, her back to him, and his wand to the back of her throat. She had never expected such measures to be taken, and had not readied herself for his complete onslaught. If anything, she had been expecting a quick, nasty hex before he ranted at her for being nosy. Grabbing her and pressing her into the wall was not what she had planned for; Merlin, this was Malfoy, the Slytherin duelist who often took head-on attacks, not these vicious measures to pin an opponent down.

And really, was her sigh that bad that it had to set him off like this?

"What the bloody fuck are you doing Granger," he asked in surprise when he finally realized who it was; his wand was still digging painfully into her neck, just like his hand on her wrist would probably leave a dull mark.

"Attempting to swallow," she choked trying to turn her head to glare at him without success. He let go of her completely and allowed the girl to fall to the floor, stepping back. Dinner had only ended a bit ago and it was possible stray students would wander down the hallway and find this strange scene, and that wouldn't be good.

She turned to glare up at him as he spoke, rubbing the back of her slightly sore neck. "You shouldn't be hiding in places like that," he hissed, flicking his wrist to bring her bag to him. He dropped it gracelessly on the floor, crossing his arms tightly. "Some people don't take so kindly to being watched from the dark you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes, standing and snatching up her bag, wand in hand. "Yes well, most people don't mutter to themselves as they walk down the hall."

His eyes narrowed. "Why does it matter to you if I am muttering to myself? In case you have forgotten Granger, what I do doesn't concern you, and you should just learn to stay away from me."

That sent fire to her veins, and in a moment she had reached into her bag and chucked one of her books at him like a four-year old. Oh Merlin, I hope the git's thick skull didn't do any damage to that volume. "What is it with you," she snapped, crossing her arms as he rubbed his head, eyes dark. "One moment you are throwing these… visions my way and nearly acting civil, and the next you are shoving me away. I don't understand you Malfoy, and I never really have. What do you want from me? Are you just waiting for me to lose my mind so you can have yourself a nice laugh?"

"No," he spat, eyes dark. Circe, he didn't want to be talking about this! He was emotionally messed up enough because of this girl, he didn't need her to point it out. He didn't know how to go about these visions, or how he should be acting, since this was new territory he had never gotten the chance to explore. Did he worry about keeping up images for her sake until she knew the truth, or say fuck it all and try to make her see a lighter side of him before the full truth was out- if it even got to that point. He didn't know what to do! He had tried being nice before- when she had been Hannelore- but that had gone horribly wrong when his kindness turned into uncontrollable lust and he had a short affair with her. That was until her charming husband found out, and he had never discovered what kind of horrors he truly put her through, just that Hanna became too worried about her husbands wrath and he lost his chance.

"Then what do you want," she asked again, tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for an explanation. "If you have something oh so important to tell me Malfoy, why don't you just say it? This game you are playing is not fun, and I'm sick of it. Tell me what you want or what you are trying to show me and let's be done with it!"

He closed his eyes, hating himself. "I can't," he said quietly, grief filling his chest. Merlin he was so close! If he wasn't bound, he could just spit it out to her and run and hide in his dorm room, but that wouldn't do any good. He couldn't say it, and he was going to loe a perfectly good opportunity to finally tell her everything, all because of some fucking gods that thought he deserved to be punished. "You have no fucking idea how much I want to tell you Granger, but I just can't."

"Tell me what," she pressed, tilting her head. There was that strange behavior again, and she wouldn't' pass up an opportunity to push for answers. "I can't figure out what you want me to Malfoy unless you tell me."

He pursed his lips. Oh, there were ways he could help her figure it out, but none that he could think of that wouldn't earn him a well-placed hex later on for. But, what did he have to lose? She was pushing, so why couldn't he take advantage of that? Why couldn't he try and speed the process up? If he could make her remember, but had to open old wounds to do so, then that was worth dealing with the pain- anything to finally be finished with this torment.

Moving quickly, he grasped each side of her face gently in his hands, cradling her cheeks. "If you insist Granger," he breathed, stepping closer so their foreheads nearly touched. Oh he was going to get slapped for this, but it was his best bet. If she were remembering things in this life, then this was his best chance, right?

Ignoring the uncertain, suddenly confused look in her eyes, he moved quickly and pressed his lips to hers, spinning her around to lean her into the wall, keeping his weight off her. There was no response for several seconds, until he felt her breath hitch.

Immediately, he pulled away. He'd obviously scared her by his sudden actions, and the reaction of her remembering had apparently not come. He was going to hate himself for this then, for forcing himself on her. He moved to quickly step away, but her hand locked around his upper arm, nails digging into his skin almost painfully.

Her eyes were wide. This wasn't a usual reaction as far as he could tell, and he suddenly felt terrible for doing this to her. Hanna had at least kissed him first, so that had not been his fault, but this was. He cupped her face. "Granger," he asked worriedly, searching her suddenly vacant eyes, "Granger, can you hear me?"

There was no response, and he thought maybe she was stunned. What had he done? Glancing around, he bit his cheek worriedly. He thought perhaps taking her down to the hospital wing to see if perhaps he had shocked her or something may be a good idea, but immediately thought against it. How would he explain that? And furthermore, what if it was something else entirely? It wasn't common for people to remember ever living before, so explaining this to a school nurse would be an awful idea. The hospital wing was out of the question because he didn't know what to say and how to explain everything- but he didn't know what was wrong and how to help either.

His focus snapped back to Granger as she collapsed against him. Panic immediately started eating at him. What had he done? Was she dying? Were the gods playing twisted games on him because he possibly pushed too far? That thought made him want to vomit. Merlin, she had just better be alright.

The sound of voices caught his attention. Oh great, the fucking students are coming. There were four or five of them if he were guessing correctly, and they sounded rather young; first or second years would be his guess. They weren't even supposed to be in this section of the school if that were the case, if they were that young. Now how to get rid of them?

He gently lowered Granger into the ground, throwing his cloak over her, before he cast an invisibility spell on her so the students wouldn't see. Chucking her bag back into the small space she had been standing in before, he marched over to the front of the hallway and crossed his arms tightly, putting on an annoyed glare.

"You lot, you know you aren't supposed to be in this part of the castle! What do you think you are doing?" He glared down at the four Slytherin students who had rounded the corner, not giving a damn that it was his own house. They were definitely first years.

"We were just looking," one boy said, his stuck-up attitude reminding the blond painfully of Granger, who was currently, thankfully, hidden. He had a rather large nose and mousy brown hair that made him think more of a Ravenclaw.

"Well look somewhere else. These halls are for upper classmen classes and those are currently not in session at this hour. Go back to your dorms and remain out of trouble, or you'll all have detentions."

The big-nosed boy glared, and Malfoy knew it was an empty threat. He wasn't even going to bother taking their names, just glared the young students down. One of his friends tugged on the stubborn boys arm, and they hurried back the way they had come.

Once out of sight, his controlled demur dropped. Flicking his wand, he watched the unconscious Granger reappear. Worried out of his mind, he rushed to the spot he had tossed her bag and threw the strap over his shoulder, thankful he had decided to return to his dorm earlier and drop his own bag off. Returning to her side, he knelt and gently lifted her up, his robe remaining across her body. He had absolutely no bloody idea what he had done, or how to fix it, but damn it all if he was going to take her to anyone else and trust them to help.

Or worse, he could leave her there. Shoving that thought away, he moved quickly, a destination already in mind; his dorm room wasn't far from there, and since he knew naught how to get into Granger's private dorms, it was his room or the infirmary. Besides, could she really be that mad at him when she woke up? At least he hadn't left her out there!

They were both going to have a bit of explaining to do; her as to what happened, and he about why he had kissed her and begun this mess.

So long as he hadn't sent her into a coma or something stupid, he figured his guilt couldn't quite double yet. They had been in worse situations before.

Thankfully they reached his dorm without coming across anyone, and he whispered the password, slipping into his dorm as he heard approaching footsteps. The door shut before he ever saw anyone.

Depositing her bag near the doorway, he paid no mind to the fact that the contents of the bag as they scattered across the floor. He swept through the comfortable space of his dorm, pushing open the door and depositing her on his bed before pulling out his wand, casting multiple spells at once.

His heart hadn't calmed down as he took into account what the test spells told him; she was asleep as far as they read, and that couldn't be right. There was no fucking way the events leading to her collapse meant that she was asleep; it didn't add up! He ran the same set of test spells twice before throwing his wand into the nearby wall, ignoring it as it clattered to the ground near a discarded shirt.

Draco began pacing, glancing at her every few seconds as though her eyes would suddenly open. She couldn't be sleeping, not from the way things had gone, but that's what the tests were telling him. So if she really was asleep, then why? What prompted the sudden unconscious state? Never in all six of his lives had he seen something like that.

Could I have… no, impossible.

He moved close again and bent over her face, studying her. She looked so calm and peaceful; he thought it a shame to awaken her- if he could even. But staring down at her he couldn't stop wondering the same question as before;

Could I have made her remember? No, impossible!

Hermione was going to kill Malfoy. Not only had the prick dared to kiss her, but now she was in the middle of some strange vision of his again!

Except this time, she was seeing it through the eyes of someone. She had no idea who she was speaking to, just that the man in front of her hand dark black hair that reminded her a lot of Harry. He had kissed her twice thus far, and it was truly unsettling because she had no control of her body whatsoever. She was just observing and nothing else, apparently.

Oh when she got out of that vision she was going to kill Malfoy!

The problem was, this time there was no Malfoy standing around to go speak to. She was all alone, observing things through someone else's eyes whose actions she could not control.

What had Malfoy done to her?

A/n: What do you think happened? Review! I left the chapter here to set up for a lot next chapter :)

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