A/n: Tada! Here's chapter 10. It goes a lot into past lives and is kinda short, but I wanted to get something up for you readers. The next chapter will be more eventful! 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: A Large Problem, 1999 (Life Six)

Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger

The blond rubbed his head tiredly, the wound Granger had noticed early yesterday still in place on his head. He hadn't bothered to fix it, and certainly wouldn't be anytime soon now that he had severely fucked up and sent her into a dream-like state. This wasn't good, and had captured his attention since the first moment. Now it was nearly time for class the following day and he had just barely finished preparing a plan that didn't sit too well in his stomach.

If they were both absent, that would draw serious suspicions from the entire student body, not just their friends, so actually staying with her was out of the question. It really put him ill-at-ease to leave her there alone, but he had few other options. Telling anyone would stir up trouble, even his best mate Blaise. First, he could never explain this really, and although the Italian was great most of the time he could be a nosy bloke. Seeing as Blaise was the only option he would consider, that was out. So instead he had borrowed Granger's limp hand, used a sticking charm to attach her wand to her hand and had written a sloppy note to the Headmistress about how ill she was feeling and that she would not be attending class today. The note he had received in return seemed skeptical about this plot, but at least the old bat had not decided to pursue the topic. Granger had been excused from all classes for today; now he just needed to do something about her absence in her common room. No doubt those nosy Gryffindor friends of hers would go poking their heads in her private dorm and then get snippy because she was nowhere to be found.

Then again, he could always leave that for her to explain, but if she was in a bad enough mood upon awakening, she may mention his name and stir up a bunch of trouble for the Slytherin; he would have to think about how to handle this.

Sitting down on desk chair he sighed, staring at her. She looked quite pretty with her hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her, lips slightly parted as she laid there. He liked to believe she was asleep, and chose to believe that thought for his own sanity. Although truth be told, he gto the feeling he had sent her into some sort of memory that she was currently living out, and he wasn't sure that was a good thing. Could he accidently fry her brain with the surplus of knowing that reincarnation had existed, and that they had always been looking for each other?

No, if Granger finds that out she will simply slap me and get the hell out of here. She can't stand me, there is no way she will even consider the idea that we were once in love.

You're overthinking this Draco.

He sighed. There were too many possibilities to figure out, and he honestly had no idea what was really going on. This was new territory for him, this whole 'kiss Penelope-who-is-now-Granger and have her pass out' because he had kissed some of her past lives and never had this been the result. He was completely at a loss.

Glancing at the clock he scowled. He would now be late to his first class because of his thinking. Grabbing his bag he looked hesitantly back at her. No one would come into this room save Blaise, and Zabini would only come up to search for him but seeing as they had class together, that wouldn't be a problem. She had not been sleep walking- or trance walking as far as he could tell, and he had been up all night- so there were no worries that she might leave. The only real reason she would be gone when he returned was because she woke up on her own and ran out. He really hoped that wouldn't be the case.

Walking over, he kissed her temple then her cheek. Be safe Granger; be here when I return. I pray to Merlin that I haven't done something awful to you. Turning quickly and grabbing his bag, he walked briskly from the dorm, not allowing himself to stop or turn until he got to class. If he did, he wouldn't be attending class at all.

Somewhere in the Contents of Hermione Granger's Past Lives, as Seen

Through Her Mind:

Life Two (unknown to the observer)

Dreu Antoine Malfoy (18) and Harmony Joan Potter (22)

Hermione sat playing with a young child, a child she knew to be the daughter of the woman she was currently spiritually invading. The woman looked quite like her in appearance, and although that was unsettling it was interesting too. She now knew what she looked like with black hair, and that the person she had been hours ago looked like her as well. That fact was unsettling.

The child she was playing with was named Acacia, which she thought was a lovely name, if not quite unorthodox. The baby had her black hair but her father's eyes; a man who she was currently married to, someone with the last name Potter. It was Alexander or something like that. She had barely paid attention to his name, but the last name really stuck with her. Potter? Could this be a relative of Harry's, and she was playing the wife?

That's ridiculous! This is nothing more than a strange dream that Malfoy sent you into with that kiss! That stupid, passionate kiss.

Yeah… I've been in here too long if Malfoy is now passionate. Perhaps I only think that because of the horrible kisses this so called husband of mine bestows upon me. What was my name again, Harmony?

She watched the baby play on the cool floor, exceptionally old toys in her hands. Hermione had begun to think all of this felt vaguely familiar, but kept dismissing the idea. This was some twisted idea of Malfoy's for Circe's sake!

Still, that didn't make her current daughter any les adorable. Acacia made the loveless relationship with Alexander bearable in her eyes. This poor woman appeared to have been screwed out of love long ago, and what with the conversations she had with this Potter fellow, had she had control of the blasted mouth, he would've been upside down, purple, with an angry set of large dogs beneath him until he decided to be less of a jerk. Really, that man was awful! She did not understand how black-haired-looking-her had ever tolerated him- if this had all ever been real!

Well now she just wasn't making any sense at all.

She had already been through a cycle of this and thought it was over; the first rotation involved someone with the last name Krum, a man called Lowell Malfoy, and herself as a Penelope something or other. It also involved a rather brutal death she hoped to not relive. Before, in that "time", she had been fine attempting to sleep when the current body she resided in lay down to sleep, but since being killed had started she feared closing her eyes again and having someone else kill her too. Being viciously killed was not something she wanted to relive; Merlin, it hurt.

Hermione had put a few things together since Malfoy decided to kiss her though;

~There seemed to be a Malfoy in both of these little times she had visited so far, both of which looked an awful lot like Malfoy himself. It was definitely something odd to consider, but she had to piece things together somehow now that she was stuck;

~She looked kind of like the two girls she had been embodied in, which was also unsettling;

~Thinking back, all the other strange visions/times Malfoy had ever shown her inside his mind, the blond men usually looked a lot like Malfoy as well, and the woman sometimes looked like her; and

~Between this time and the last, time had moved forwards quite a bit, but she couldn't quite figure out why. It had been sometime back in the 1400's last time, and it was now in the 1500's. That part would mean different lifetimes, right?

Lifetimes didn't make sense though. This all started with Malfoy so it all had to circle back to Malfoy then. But Draco Malfoy was the same age as her- seventeen- so he had no connection to things way back in time like this. Were they his ancestors? If so, what good did seeing a bunch of old, dead, snooty Malfoy's do her? Maybe he had sent her into this mess only to hurt her head.

That didn't really make sense either!

She sighed and tried to focus on whatever was happening now. Her body sat straighter as an older man stepped into the room, dark hair looking rather greasy. She reached forwards (against her will) and grabbed the young baby before standing.

The man nodded to her, sneering as she stood. "Lady Potter."

She nodded back, tightly. "Sir Snape. What can I do for thou this fine day?"

He smiled, but it was certainly not a warm smile. "Thou husband is but going out for the night. He hast asked me to watch thou and Acacia." Her arms tightened instinctively around her baby. "He shall be back in the morning."

"Where did he go," she inquired, turning her nose up. There was absolutely no way she would be having that man in her home with her at night! She had no idea who he even was but he was older and he had the last name Snape; both were reasons to not trust him.

The man shrugged, and Hermione severely wished he would explain his name. "He hast business to attend to."

She nodded. "Then I shall be turning in for the night. Goodnight Alabaster," she said coldly, moving to pass him.

He gently but firmly placed a hand on her arm as she passed. "So early, Harmony?" There was something dark in his eyes, and she slowly felt her stomach drop. Something was not right here at all.

"I think so."

He sneered. "I think not."

Part 3: Concern. 1999 (Life Six)

Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger

He had a bloody headache. Memories from his second life were hammering in his head, moving way to fast. He wondered why that was, considering he was not trying to focus on any specific memories; since he had remembered his past lives two years before, he had learned how to control the thoughts and memories so they did not disturb him in class; knowing things like that caused you to have to open up different parts of your brain like you never should, simply so that you could process those sorts of things and understand them without going insane. He had learned to master this art two lifetimes ago, so why should everything be bothering him now? Never before had this happened under these circumstances.

It made him wonder if it was a side effect to Granger remembering, but that would mean she would have to of started remembering in the first place. He had come to the conclusion that this was possible since he threw her into a dream-like state, but didn't want to get himself excited for the prospect of actually having her remember. He wondered what would even happen if she did. But for now wondering about things like that would do him no good.

Class carried on, and he soon lay his head down on his desk. This was one of the classes he would be partnered with Granger in, but since she was currently unavailable he found himself alone. Closing his eyes for a moment he fought off the notion to sleep, still entirely concerned about her, but drowsiness won and he soon found himself down memory lane.

Lowell Belmont Malfoy (17) and Penelope Elliana (17), 1487

He watched from a distance as the prick roughly brushed her hair back. It was fairly obvious that the bloke had no idea how to be tender towards a woman, and it showed on Penelope's face every time he touched her. Henry did not come from a family of gentle people, whereas the lovely girl at his side had, and he was harming her without meaning to.

Gavin sat beside the angry blond, occasionally glancing between his friend and the woman he kept observing. His new bride, Evangeline Parkinson turned Zabini sat at his side, making idle chit-chat with the young Greengrass woman at her side. At length, the man decided enough was enough.

"Go talk to her," he demanded, catching his friends attention. Watching the blond pay so much attention to the girl was irritating, and if he was so intent on watching her he may as well go talk to her. They had already discussed the blond's feelings for Penelope in the past, and it was obvious how he felt. If the git continued to sit there and just stare though, he was surely going to draw some strange looks indeed.

"Nay," he replied, watching the pair closely, "I shall talk with her, but naught so long as he remains at her side."

Gavin gave him a curious look, but said nothing and turned away to kiss his wife's temple.

"Who ist there," she called out quietly from her bedroom window later that night, barely peeking out. She had done this with him since they were thirteen, so surely she knew who it was by now, but he was thankful that she was cautious about allowing strangers to climb up into her room.

"Who dost thou think it is," he called up, watching her head appear. He could just barely make out a small smile as she pushed the window open and stepped back, waiting for him to climb up.

In the years since he had started doing this climbing up the side of Penelope's home had gotten easier. He was taller now and could reach higher; had learned the best places to grab and which places to avoid. The vines had just continued to grow, and had become thicker overtime. He could now scale the side of the Mansion easily enough. Climbing over her windowsill he noted that the usually breathtaking girl looked sad and unhappy. He walked quickly to sit beside her on the chairs- which had never been changed- and looked at her curiously. She just sighed loudly and threw her hands up.

"I dost not like Krum," she huffed, crossing her arms tightly. The girl had long since outgrown the blue pieces of nightwear, and now donned a simple purple nightgown and had grown into a dark maroon bathrobe, both of which clashed but still covered her enough. "He is but a dolt! He dost not listen nor care. He is simply stuck on himself!"

"I told thou that Krum is like that," Lowell replied, his usual tidy hair disheveled from the windstorm outside that- had he been three years younger- may have thrown him from the structure back onto the unforgiving ground. "He dost not care about anyone fere Penelope, just a beauty to keep to himself."

Penelope nodded tightly. "I know, but my parents keep pushing me to see him. I dost not want to see him! They declare that we shall make the best couple, but not I. I dost think it is but a lie."

He gently reached out and rubbed her hand. "Tell them so. Tell them thou dost not want him as thou husband. Thine parents are understanding."

She smiled in return. "Sometimes they are. Why canst he be like thee? Thou always understands me Lowell."

The blond man raised an eyebrow, wondering why she brought that up. As far as he knew, Penelope saw him as nothing more than a friend. "Why dost thou say this?"

She shrugged, looking away. "Because thou are always kind."

Lowell nodded before standing, feeling uncomfortable. Their parents hated each other, and wherever she was going with this conversation couldn't be good. Whatever he may feel for her would be overridden by family hatred and couldn't be allowed. And Penelope was just feeling lonely after being in the company of an utter idiot the entire night. Not only that, but he had seen Rupert Weasely gliding over to see her when Krum was absent. Poor girl.

He couldn't even take a step before her hand had moved to snake around his wrist. He stayed where he was as she stood, resting her head on her shoulder. "Please dost not make me choose him."

The blond's eyebrows shot up. "What dost thou mean," he inquired as her face turned up to look at him, her pretty eyes sparkling.

She tilted her head. "Thou know what I mean," she replied shyly, her cheeks stained red as she stood on her toes to gently press a kiss to his lips. It was completely out of line, and if he were to tell anyone she had done something scandalous like this then her reputation would be forever trashed. With those thought suddenly coursing through her mind she attempted to pull back, only for her head to meet a soft hand that gently held her in place for a moment before releasing. She pulled away and took several steps back, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her wand poking out of her robe. Her cheeks were still very red as she looked back at him.

He was tracing his lips with his fingers when he spoke again. "Why," he asked her, eyebrow raised as she clutched her robe tighter.

"Because thou feels the same," she replied, beginning to pace, "and because thee are too much of a gentleman to do so."

"Tis risky Penelope," he breathed, watching her intently, "when thou is being courted by another."

"And thou knows I dost not want another," she hissed, finally meeting his gaze. "I dost not want to be courted by Krum, nor Weasley nor Flint." She took a few steps forwards but stopped short of him. "I just wanted to see if thou felt for me what I feel for thee." She looked meaningfully into his eyes. "And I know thou feels the same for me."

He sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "Even if I feel the same Penelope, that dost not make it easier. Our families will never allow it."

She stepped closer. "When has thou ever let thine parents tell thee what to do?"

He breathed out through his nose. She was obviously going to push this. "This is different, thou knows his. This is dangerous for the both of us to tamper with."

"I know," she replied confidently, "but is it worth it if we both want the same. Lowell, dost not turn me away, for I see the unhappiness in thine eyes. Thou wishes for nothing more than the rules to not be there, and that thou could court me, but it will not happen with our parents. Please, be thyself and dost not listen to the rules! Thou never listens to the rules, so please dost not start now."

He sighed, and reached out to caress her cheek. "I repeat, this is dangerous."

"But it is worth it if we are happy," she breathed in return.

"It would have to be secret," he said slowly, "until we are of age and can run away."

"Of course."

"Which means we must always deal with suitors without allowing anything to really progress."

"Yes."

He nodded, glad that she was at least thinking the same things as he was. They were already going to be in over their heads as it was. "Thou will tell me if Krum dost anything," he inquired seriously, changing topics a bit.

Her face immediately took on an expression of surprise. "Yes fere."

"Good," he said quietly, reaching forwards to not kiss her lips but her cheek, since Lowell was nothing sort of a gentleman. She wished just then he did not always have such fine manners. "Then I see thou tomorrow?"

She nodded, smiling. "Thou shall."

"Good," he replied, kissing her knuckles before taking his leave. His visit that night was short compared to the amount of time they usually spent together, but that was okay. She would see him in the morning, and she couldn't wait for that- in fact, she may need the time to sort out everything that had just happened in her head.

It wasn't until the dim lights outside of her home stopped illuminating the figure of Lowell that she shut her window and attempted to sleep.

The following morning found Lowell walking down the street towards a café he often met Penelope and other friends at for breakfast. He rounded a corner and nearly collided with a mop of red hair. Being the well mannered Pureblood he was expected to be- for the racism in his family had not breached out to the poor yet, just Mudbloods, which would develop later on- he helped the man collect his scattered items before he even noticed who it was.

Rupert Weasley stared back at him, that annoying smile of his in place. Rupert was a fine fellow as far as manners were concerned, and had never treated Penelope with anything less than respect- which was good, else Lowell was sure he would have to beat the git to a pulp. The problem with Rupert as far as Lowell was concerned was that he fancied Penelope too much, and could be a problem at times. At least the girl's other friend, Timothy Potter, didn't have any real feelings for the girl. The blond was at least happy that he was her closest friend.

"Malfoy," he said, nodding his head politely to the rich Pureblood.

"Weasley," he replied in return, not bothering with a nod. He was in too big of a rush to go and see her to bother being pleasant, but the ginger didn't seem to notice.

"Were is thou off to this fine morning," he asked, in far too chipper of a mood.

"To see Lady Penelope," the blond replied, irritated that the git fell into step beside him as he continued on. Could he not take a hint?

"Ah, Lady Penelope," he said, staring off. Lowell watched him with apprehension. He may keep his feelings for her private, but that didn't mean he enjoyed listening to other blokes talk about her. It was never anything graphic- thank Merlin- but it was usually enough to nearly topple him over the edge. And after their kiss last night, he felt even more protective of her. Now where would that get them? "She is the beauty," he continued, oblivious to the blonds souring mood.

"What dost thou see in her," he asked, wondering what besides the girl's beauty caught his attention. Did he know her at all?

"She is lovely," he replied, seeming to think that was enough of a reason to feel something for her, but Lowell just rolled his eyes; it seemed that Weasley and Krum both thought on the same narrow minded path.

The git continued to talk, but he chose to ignore him. Hopefully the idiot would not follow him to visit Penelope, for then he could possibly lose his mind.

"They are both pricks," he thought.

"Draco," someone said, drawing him from his sleep. He opened a bleary eye to see Blaise gazing down at him with an odd expression. Once he realized the blond was awake he continued speaking, "Class is over mate; you slept through it."

"Did I," he asked sarcastically, rubbing his head. Sleeping on desktops really wasn't the comfortable. Standing, he shoved his chair in and walked out, barely paying their potions teacher any mind. If he was fast, he could go and check on Granger before the next class. Without sparing a goodbye, he rushed out of class, Blaise following after a moment of indecision, figuring it couldn't hurt to discover what had the blond so on edge.

Neither paid Snape any mind as they left the room, but he had been watching his star student out of the corner of his eye the entire class, silently gritting his teeth. He hated that boy with a passion, hated what he had stopped him from doing and the fact that he was still in the way of what he wanted. It wasn't until after the last student was out of class that Snape snapped the quill he had been holding in his hand.

Damnit Malfoy, you are in my way again! Checking his roll, he raised an eyebrow and thought over the blonds hasty departure again. Perhaps he knew where Hermione Granger had been during class. Setting aside everything, he sat in his chair and stroked his chin.

He missed her greatly when she was not present.

A/n: Do you get my subtle hint? Let me know in your review! And don't forget about th banners for this story and others on my facebook page. I hope you enjoyed!

Okay so it didn't touch a whole lot on Hermione and her current state, but things have to develop and a few more things about the past need to be revealed before she wakes up. Don't worry! It's going to probably only take one more chapter after this for that to happen, and maybe the beginning of another. The wait isn't long! and no, I haven't forgotten about Ron/Draco having a conflict. And besides that, we still have Krum coming!