A/n: Sorry it's a day late, but the last version of this chapter wasn't good enough to present to you readers. I hope you like this installment though and can forgive my tardiness, just a bit?Thanks again to my beta Tessa Cresswell!

New banner for this and other stories on my facebook! Check it out when you please :) And my new one-shot "Forget Me Naught" has been written and is being edited. I hope to have it up within a month's time, so watch for it loves :)

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: Tell Me Why, 1999 (Life Six)

Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger

Well I don't look like they do

Hermione sat nervously in her room, which was ridiculous since she had nothing to be nervous about. She was going to speak with Malfoy, and decide whether or not she could comprehend the things he had thrown at her. The classes following potions had been a blur as she attempted to work out a witty way to make him tell her everything without sounding like she understood nothing; she had a reputation to uphold, she could not simply act like a moron. It was unheard of!

Still, she had not worked out anything to say. This topic truly stumped her, and that was a bother. She couldn't let him know that, so what was she to do? She only hoped that when he came upstairs he wouldn't think she was completely foolish for not understanding things.

Speaking of which, the git was late. He had declared to come up promptly after dinner just hours before, telling her not to dally, while it was nearly a half hour past the time dinner had ended and she was the only one present in her room. He really could be irritating sometimes.

She had been ready to start drawing out a draft of what to ask, when a knock sounded at her door. Hoping that Ron and Harry had heeded her word and stayed away for the night so she could study away, she stood and went to answer the door. She was grateful to see Malfoy.

"You're late," she said, raising an eyebrow instead of letting him know that she was glad he had come after all. Enough was enough and she needed answers. Out of the corner of her eye she noted that he held some sort of book in his hands.

"I had to get away from my friends," he replied, raising an eyebrow of his own. Unlike her Gryffindor friends that accepted any answer to a question, his Slytherin friends had a knack for being far more suspicious in general towards everything there was.

She nodded, taking that for an answer and stepped back into her room, leaving him to follow. She had a nice little sitting room here, stuffed with so many books that some were crowding her coffee table. It was definitely the room of a bookworm. She took a seat on the sofa, and he opted to sit beside her, just in case she got curious about the book in his hands.

"What would you like to know," he asked, relaxing. His nerves may have been on end, but he couldn't let her know that. He planned to be as relaxed as possible during this conversation.

She huffed. "Everything; it's not like I understand anything that keeps playing in my head. Did you know that I keep getting flashes of different times whenever I talk to people that I knew in the past?" She paused. "I mean, if I knew them in the past."

"If you see someone take on a different image, different persona while speaking with them then it means you once knew their past lives, probably under very different circumstances. With time you'll learn how to control that and eventually block it entirely."

She frowned. "How long will that take?"

"It depends," he replied with a shrug. "It took me two and a half lifetimes, but you're smart and you actually have someone to help you, so I doubt it will take you as long."

She blinked. "You're going to help me with this?"

He rolled his eyes. "Did you learn nothing from those memories," he asked, tapping the side of her head. "Of course I will help you; I never even meant for this to happen, so I'm not going to force you to suffer."

"Suffer?" she asked, looking at him oddly. He shrugged again in return.

"It's a pain to remember the past, but the past makes us who we are," he replied evenly. "I have just been subjected to more memories than many."

"Why do you remember? Why does it seem like you're the only one in this entire school that remembers?"

"Few people are allowed to remember Granger; can you imagine the chaos, the confusion it would cause to remember every detail of who you were in another lifetime? It's dangerous to remember, not only a burden but its dangerous too; people's minds would be far more corrupt because of the things they went through centuries ago. We have past lives earlier than the fourteenth century I'm sure, we just don't remember them. I remember my pasts as a punishment Granger, not a gift. This burden is no gift."

She wrinkled her nose. She thought that given the right explanations, this could be a gift, a beautiful insight to the world that a book could never provide. Yet he treated it like a disease. Granted, so did she, but what did she know? Next to nothing really, but listening to him talk was nearly fascinating. She had not considered any of the things he was saying until this very moment. "Why were- are- you being punished?"

He laughed, but it came out more as a pained choke. "Why do you think Granger? What happened in the first life we shared together?"

Well, that answer was simple; she knew she had been killed, but how was that his fault? She remembered that Henry Krum had been at fault for this, not Lowell Malfoy. Why would he be blamed? She gave him an odd look, and he took this as a sign to continue on.

"It was my plan to leave everything behind, for us to leave together and find a different life." Saying it out loud, he found that it brought a lot more emotion into his thoughts. He had never been given an opportunity to shed any of the weight off his shoulders, and this was suddenly a huge relief. "I told you everything would be alright, that it would make our lives better, and that Krum would not find you. But I was wrong, and in the end it led to your death." He stopped there, unwilling to tell her the rest of the story; there was so much more to be said.

And I don't love like they do

"But why would you be punished for that? You did nothing wrong; it seems to have just happened." This wasn't really what she wanted to focus on, she was more curious about the process, but whatever happened after her death was a mystery and she was curious.

He scoffed and looked away, turning his head, "If you only knew."

"I would know if you just told me," she huffed, crossing her arms at the stubborn blond. She knew he would be hard headed.

"Not now Granger," he said, and she could really hear the emotion in his words now, "Ask something else, but I won't be discussing this; ask something different."

She held her tongue. Fine, let him keep his little secrets for now, but considering it had to do with her, she would find out what he was hiding. But for now, she wasn't going to worry about that. Brushing her hair back a bit, she met his eyes again. "The timelines of our lives, they are scattered. Shouldn't I die and become… my daughter?"

He chuckled, turning back to stare at her. "It's a confusing concept Granger. You wouldn't come back to be your own daughter, the reincarnation process takes time. Those who suffer a traumatic death tend to be quicker about joining the living again. However, it takes about sixty years for the soul to reconstruct itself back into something that can be reborn into a body. It's a complicated process, seeing as you have to lose all of your memories in order to be able to regenerate into a person. I was forced to keep mine, but for my second life I came back too quickly. It made me feel sickly as time drew on. From there I tended to take longer, although I have no real recollection of this. You really can't remember anything."

She frowned. "You say you were forced to keep your memories, that it's a punishment, but who decided this? Are you telling me there are such things as gods?"

He smirked and looked at her. "That's revealing a bit too much there Granger. When you die, I will let you find out for yourself."

"I have already died in my past; I have already found out, so you cannot be giving away any surprises… just reminding me of things I have forgotten."

He laughed this time. "Granger, the only reason I know so much is because I have been remembering for centuries. You just started digging up old memories again, and those sorts of things have to come from personal experience. You never had any reason to face the afterlife with a clear mind, so you haven't."

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Don't worry about it then," he replied looking at her, "Ask other questions that I can answer."

"You certainly side step the few that I have quite well."

"You simply ask the questions I can't answer." He raised an eyebrow, still watching her. "Any more questions?"

"Why did you kiss me," she tried, wondering if he had any intent at all to fill her in anymore, or if this was another strange Malfoy trick that she had yet to figure out.

He grit his teeth. "I planned to prove a point, but it seems to have proven the wrong point. I never intended for you to jump into some memory relapse. I have kissed you before, in other lives, and nothing like this has ever happened." He threw his hands up. "I honestly don't understand some of the things happening right now Granger; it's never been like this before."

She sighed, before she stood and started pacing. "Well, it happened for one reason or another," she said, rubbing her hands together. "This 'immortal punishment' deal couldn't have gone on forever, so it's not really immortal. But I don't understand, what does this mean now? Am I supposed to love you now or something?" She turned to stare at him, wondering what he had to say; if her past told her anything, he had once really, truly loved her, and she him.

The blond shifted uncomfortably on her couch. "That is for you to decide Granger; you hardly know me in this life. You have to decide for yourself if you love me at all."

But I don't hate like they do

She tilted her head, knowing their topic had moved to an entirely new level of seriousness. "Well, do you love me?"

He pursed his lips at her question. He knew that question was coming as soon as she began her lecture. Standing, he moved so he was directly in front of her. "When you can answer me, I'll answer you."

Hermione stared up at him, irritated with his answer but unable to say anything. His response wasn't surprising, but the depth of emotion in his words was; she couldn't help but feel a bit swallowed by his sudden dark eyes. Her own dropped, and that was when she found something else to talk about to get away from this subject.

"What is the book?"

He smirked at the top of her head this time, pleased that she had asked a question he could rightly answer. "It's an account of my past lives with you, and some things that happened; it was my documentary on how to keep going back getting you to remember."

She glanced at him before sitting back on the couch and opening the book. "Me remembering really means a lot to you?"

"More than you understand Ganger."

She nodded absentmindedly, before returning to the pages. What had he written in here?

Part 2: Suffer like I Do, 1489 (Life One)

Lowell Belmont Malfoy (19) and Penelope Elliana (19)

He struggled to his knees. He could not sit there anymore beside her, not with the thoughts stirring through his mind. He had to get away, he had to let someone know where to find the body. He couldn't just leave her lying there on the ground.

Carefully, he stood, looking anywhere but her still form. He had long ago cried himself dry, and now he had to find someone to help him with this mess. The driver, why had he not kept the driver longer to assist? Throwing that thought away before he let that get to him as well, he turned and began to stumble away from the scene. What was he going to do?

Why are thou still standing? That spell was for thee, not her. He held back more tears as the thought entered his mind. It is all thy fault that she's gone, so why does thou remain? He scrubbed at his eyes. Thou should be dead.

Dead: a work that should've scared him, but had no effect on him at all. Staring at the lifeless body before him, he could only categorize dead as an element of life. He was no fool; he knew death forever loomed in the distance, growing closer with each breath, for he had witnessed it on more than one occasion unfortunately, although it had never before made his heart ache like it did now. There was pain, guilt, and anger.

Oh, so much anger. He was angry at himself, but also at the bastard for doing this. And all the prick had to say was "Dost not tell them I did it." Pathetic; he barred this woman off from so many friends while they were together, and then he kills her, and does not have even the heart to care enough to stay. Perhaps that was better though, since Draco felt sure that he would've had to kill the man. Just like he felt the need to kill him now.

Kill; there was a word that made him feel many things, and among them was the thought of revenge. He should kill him, should make him pay, but he wondered if he had it in him at all to kill. He had seen people die, knew how it felt, and did not know if he wished that on Henry's family; it was Henry himself that deserved to suffer, not his family.

Am I ever on your mind?

His slow walk was stopped as he turned to hit the nearest tree. This was madness, wandering around in the dark to search for a hope that wasn't there. He was finding nothing within the dark trees, no answers and no paths, just a lot of questions and thoughts. He did not need those though; he needed something to focus on so he knew where to go from there.

He really only wanted to go back and lay beside the still body and wait for the cold outside to lock onto him, and slowly suck the life from him. The air was cold, and he could only assume that a cold front was coming. Perhaps if he would bother, he could find out through his magic, but that thought eluded him and he continued to walk.

It was a short time later when he found himself back at the dreaded spot; his purposeless wanderings had led him back to the one place he wasn't sure he should remain, and looking on at her still form he had to force down a hurt cry; this was all so unfair.

Tree… but of course! He had been wandering around so many, looking for something to tell him how to continue on after he allowed this tragedy to happen, when all along the answer stood before him. All those thoughts about killing Krum were just diversions from the real, daunting task before him. Unhappily, he looked up at the thick tree-limb. How cliché would it be to kill himself at her side? It wasn't like anyone would know the true story anyways, what with Henry being the bloody coward he was. The man would never admit to having killed his bride-to-be.

He walked back to the carriage, searching. When he did not locate what he wanted, he pulled his wand out in frustration, and caused a nearby basket to break apart before he snatched up a garment and reconfigured it into a much stronger material; rope.

It took a few short minutes to construct what he wanted. The noose would pull up when he let his feet fall out from under him, and he had made sure that the supporting branches were strong and secured well with rope. How interesting that it was so easy for him to take his life when it was so hard for her to avoid death.

He glanced down at her. Despite knowing that he could join her soon, he couldn't help the growing heartbreak and pain he still felt.

Cold, but I'm still here

He stepped up to his death. The emptiness he felt inside as he faced the end of his life was disheartening, and he was glad he could be rid of the empty feeling in a moment when he broke his neck. Fuck Krum, he would pay his dues someday, by someone's hand. Now he only wanted the throbbing pain of loneliness to stop.

He stood on the rock, looking out at the barren black area, and felt no remorse as he slipped his neck through the noose. Let the world wonder what happened to them. With that thought in mind, he stepped off the rock.

In the morning, traveling merchants would find the dead bodies, bringing tales of horror back to the village, all surrounded by a sickening love tale that everyone believed, except one man.

Henry Krum could never stand to listen to the story.

Blind

Part 3: You See Me, 1999 (Life Six)

Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger

The book lay closed on her table. They had spoken a bit about nothing important, and he could already see the stress lines forming on her pretty skin. She had every right to be appalled by what she was learning, he just wished she looked more awe-inspired and less horror-stricken.

"I would never have expected you to kill yourself- over anything Malfoy," she said, staring away from him. He hadn't meant to tell her about that, but when she read his notes about the ways they had died over the years, he had been forced to tell her something after ignoring all of her questions, even if it wasn't a pleasant story.

He only shrugged. "I didn't have much of a life Granger; I was rich and sought after and I had a loving family, but it never made me feel alive. Back then you did, and I treasured that more than anything in the world. When we died, our siblings carried on our family lines."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I made you feel alive?"

"And loved. It may come as a surprise Granger but I did love you once. Centuries have come and gone and although I do still feel a strong connection towards you, I'm not about to tell you whether or not I am in love with you."

She frowned. "Why not?" Looking at him, she brushed her hair back and the action made him swallow hard. He loved when she did things like that; the sweet simple things that made him pay her even more attention. "Wouldn't it be better for me to understand how you really feel?"

The blond nearly snorted. "Hardly; you will understand everything in time, but I cannot answer everything for you. You have to dig deep and find some answers yourself."

The frown deepened, and Hermione looked away. Dig deep? Hadn't she already dug down pretty far to even start considering this foolishness? Did he mean to find the answers around her, or to figure out how she left about him?

"I don't understand."

"Nor do I Granger; it's a complicated process, one that I myself have never really been able to grasp onto. I understand what I have to, what I need to in order to keep my sanity through all of these years, but that is all. There is no guidebook to these kinds of things; you have to write your own and just go with it, you know? Otherwise you'll never understand it- at least to some degree."

She didn't like his answers. He seemed to know so very much about this entire topic, yet here he was denying that he understood much at all. She supposed that it made sense, considering how very many things there were out there that no one understood, but she still wished he could tell her more.

"Why do you get so antsy in potions now? It's as though you can't stand that sight of your own godfather these days."

He flinched. "No reason."

Hermione rolled her eyes, not buying this excuse for a moment. "Don't give me that Malfoy; something is wrong and I want to know what. I'm not completely idiotic, I know I once associated with another Snape decades ago, but if so few people remember the past then he cannot be a problem. Alabaster Snape, right? He was in our second lifetime; I remember that much. He was a disturbed man, and although our professor is a bit creepy I don't think he is really a bad man; look where he stood in the war! He nearly gave his life up, always knowing that it was a huge possibility that he would be killed at any moment, because nowhere was safe. You can't tell me that you think badly about that man."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You trust too much in someone you share a bad history with; I don't know what happened behind closed doors between you two when I wasn't around, but I doubt that I want to. The bottom line is Granger that when I look at Severus I see Alabaster, just like when I look at Viktor Krum I see Henry. Remember what I said about being able to learn to control what you see? It's nice, but sometimes you need to be reminded of how double sided people can be. You never really know a person, right?"

The brunette nodded slowly. She was just beginning to learn and perhaps accept what was happening, whereas he had been forced to believe from the moment he was 'punished'. She couldn't quite wrap her head around things yet, couldn't see all angles of the picture. He was hell bent on reliving the past and who these people had been at their worst, but they did not remember who they once were, so were they really bad? She saw Ron as Rupert, and Harry as Alexander- her past husband – and although that was a bit uncomfortable it didn't make her think of them differently per say, just circumstances in general. It really was a peculiar world out there.

"I guess you don't."

Cause I'm so blind

"So what are you thinking Granger? Are you ready to declare me crazy again and storm away?"

Was she? Listening to him now, with all of these different things arising, she had a hard time calling him a lunatic, but really, could she believe him? It was so much to take in; to process and to believe that she wasn't fully sure she could handle all of it.

"Not exactly," she said, shifting a bit when she felt him stiffen. Had he been expecting to be shot down in the first place? "I mean, I don't really understand yet, and I'm having a hard time processing everything at the moment, but I don't think you're… crazy."

"Really," he breathed, and she could hear the surprise in his voice.

"Yes really. There is something here between us, real memories that I can't deny. I might be the crazy one here for all I know anymore, but at least you're not alone. I'm not going to tell you that I understand; just that… maybe I don't mind understanding things a bit more."

Had she been watching him instead of the floor she would've seen the smile spread across his face. "You're willing to listen?"

"If you can clear some things up, yes; then maybe I can tell you how I feel about you."

He didn't want to hold onto her words, hope that they were true just in case she took them back later, but he couldn't help it. He was closer than ever. Collecting himself, he forced the joy down. He needed to be collected after all. Reaching forwards, he picked up his book. "That's great Granger; we can make this a routine if you would like, so maybe you can understand things better. Say, same time tomorrow?"

Her head shot up. He must be really focused on getting her to believe if he was going to agree to this, and offer his assistance so easily. "Erm… yes, that sounds fine." She gave him a soft smile of gratitude, and she would never understand how much the small gesture meant to him.

"Then I will see you after classes up here."

Hermione nodded. "It sounds like a plan."

"Good," he said nodding, before he turned on his heel. He could feel the joy already bubbling in his chest, and wanted to get out before he lost control. With his back to her, he could openly smile without making her wonder. "See you Granger."

"Yes, goodbye Malfoy."