Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It and any characters from the franchise that may appear in this fanfiction are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. This story was written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made from this story.
Author's note: If the next few chapters come out a bit more slowly, it is because I've started rewriting some of the previous chapters and will be uploading those first. I probably won't upload any new ones, until everything is rewritten and looked at by my wonderful beta who has also made the cover for this story. Eternal thanks to GeekandProud (AO3) a.k.a. AnimeIsMyCrack (FF).
This chapter is written in Hermione's POV.
- Diagon Alley, 31st of July 1991 -
When they arrived at Flourish and Blotts, looking at a younger Hermione and her mother as they were discussing buying the original copy of Hogwarts a History, Deandra retreated into Draco's mind. The spirit had confided in Hermione that she thought it would be better to give the two of them some space. Hermione had smiled and nodded her goodbye as Draco put himself down in one of the cosy armchairs that the store provided. She could feel him watching her as she herself was observing her younger self.
"I was so small," Hermione commented, moving to him and sitting on the arm of the armchair as she continued looking at the memory. Had she really been that tiny? Had her hair really been that frizzy? And her teeth. Merlin, she was glad she'd gotten those fixed.
"You were adorably passionate about your books, as always," he answered, leaning his head back. He let out a deep sigh, trying to find some comfort. "I didn't think I would run into you that day. Considering everything that happened afterward with Harry and his family, it seems I was lucky that I did. I was trying to find a gift for Harry's birthday when I entered the bookstore. I thought it might help us in becoming friends."
She raised an eyebrow at this, looking down at him. He was still so tired. She leaned towards him, letting some of her magic seep into his, trying to help him heal his core faster. A grateful smile graced his lips, and she almost blushed. Damn him. He was making her act like a silly schoolgirl. Well. She was a schoolgirl. But Hermione Granger was anything but silly.
"Didn't you meet him at Diagon Alley the first time around?" She enquired, wanting him to explain.
Draco frowned, pushing his hand through his hair, exasperated and trying to think of how to answer her. "Yes, but Harry and me…" He paused, watching for a second as Hermione and her mother were still walking around the bookstore behind them. The memory was almost forgotten as the teenage boy next to her seemed to be sucked into his own memories. Of a time before he met her. She couldn't help but wonder how they'd met, since he mentioned he hadn't expected to run into her that day. Perhaps they met at Hogwarts?
After another big sigh, Draco continued. "Harry and I, we were anything but friends. For good reason. I was a bigoted idiot, just like my father. I hadn't done any growing up yet. Hadn't seen… Hadn't lived through the war." Closing his eyes to not see the judgement on her face, though there was none.
Hermione shuddered at that. She didn't want to think about the war that was coming. Voldemort had returned this time as well, that much was certain. But she couldn't help but wonder what this would mean for them. Would they be expected to fight a war again?
"I…" Draco closed his eyes now, almost hissing out his next sentence, the disgust and disdain at himself showing. "I believed in all of that pureblooded idiocy, 'Mione. I used to call you a…" He went silent again, rubbing his brow with his right hand.
She reached out slowly, taking his hand from his face. He didn't need to say it. His father had called her a mudblood many times, even if he thought she couldn't hear him. And if what had happened behind that Drawing Room door had been real, then Bellatrix Lestrange had apparently even carved the foul word into her skin at some point. She clasped their hands together, letting them rest in her lap, trying to support him. Whoever he'd been before, that wasn't him. He had changed. Even if he had called her a mudblood the first time round, he would have had to have changed and grown up. There was no other way she would have magically bound herself to him otherwise. No other way she would've become his wife. Even if she was different from the person she'd been before, she was at least certain of that.
"You changed," she told him confidently, not wanting to have him doubt himself.
He squeezed her hand, still looking at the scene before him as memory-Hermione kept coming up with multiple arguments about why it was so important for her to get the original copy of that book. "I did," he whispered. "Because of you."
Before she could answer, or ask any more questions, the door opened and an 11-year-old Draco Malfoy walked through the door, the bell at the entrance ringing through the whole store. Hermione had never noticed it the first time around, since she had her back turned to him, but she could see his occlumency fail him when he looked at her. She noticed how his breath had caught in his throat, how he suddenly stopped his confident waltzing. A giggle escaped her as it was so much like him to always look like he owned the place. But in that moment, for a fraction of a second, he had been completely lost and aloof.
"Something was telling me to argue with my mum that day," she admitted, as Draco and Hermione met each other for the first… Well. The second first time. "I kept trying to list arguments on exactly why it was so important for me to get that book, but it was nothing more than a ruse. It was almost as if a voice was telling me that I needed to stay in that bookstore for as long as possible. As if I was waiting for something. For someone."
She was rubbing soothing circles on his hand now, a bit of her magic strengthening him as she did so. His head turned, and he looked up at her, wonder and amazement apparent on his face.
"You felt the pull even back then?" he asked.
All she had to do was nudge his shoulder and nod her head to their younger selves' direction. Hermione's face was lit up as she rattled on about herself and Hogwarts to Draco.
"I did. Even though I was unsure what it was for a very long time. At one point I even wondered if it was fate leading me to you and Harry that day. To my friends. To my magical family," she whispered. "I had quite a few debates with Luna on the existence of fate. As a seer, she claims that some things are always meant to happen. No matter what decisions we make, no matter the possibilities she sees, some things never change."
She could see him wince at those words, could see his jaw was set as he frowned and seemed to space out. There was no need for her to be a seer. Hermione knew what he was thinking. Perhaps, what happened in Malfoy Manor, in that dreaded drawing room, would happen again one day. If it did, she could only hope it would end differently this time.
When Dobby popped up in the memory, Hermione jumped. She'd been so lost in thought that she'd almost forgotten where they were and what they were doing. The house elf greeted her as "mistress" and she waved her free hand, freezing the memory in place.
"Did magic force Dobby to recognize me as his mistress because of the vow you'd made with my future self?" she wondered. She noticed the frown on the frozen Draco's face and a laugh escaped her lips when she realised how much he had been struggling to save that slip-up.
"You must've been going insane, knowing you," she said as she leaned into him again, seeping more magic into him. He was finally looking less tired. Less gaunt. The colour was finally coming back to his hair, going from a duller grey to its usual vibrant pale blond. She let go of his hand and gently combed her fingers through his hair, Draco sighing, leaning into her touch gently. It reminded her a little of Crookshanks. She smiled and inspected the colour of his hair against her fingertips. Good. It was definitely getting back to normal. Soon he wouldn't need her help anymore.
"This is actually when Deandra and I came up with hiding the bond on the family tapestry," he admitted, his eyes closed now. "I even went to Gringotts disguised as my 17-year-old-self to ask Ragnok not to show the bond when we were planning to do a heritage test for you and Harry." He went quiet for a bit, Hermione still having the memory paused so he could take a breather and regain his strength. Perhaps they should do this some other day and wait until he recovers? When she moved to get up, he grabbed her hand, pulling her back down next to him. "I just need a minute, 'Mione," he whispered. "This talk has been long overdue, even though a small part of me still wishes we wouldn't have it."
She frowned at that. "Why not?"
"Because I can't shake the feeling that it was that stupid vow that led you to me in the first place," he admitted sadly. She could see the worry in his eyes and immediately wanted to disagree, but she could tell he needed to get it off his chest. So instead, she kept silent and took his hand in hers again, trying to show her support. "I did everything to make sure that vow was broken. I can't believe it took them more than two years to finally get around it," he grumbled. "I couldn't do that to you, to have you stuck in something you had never agreed to, even if I was, even if I am… Even if I've done some terrible things in my past. I've lied and cheated my way through life, I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't take away your choice. I-" his voice caught in his throat and he swallowed hard.
"It's alright," she soothed him. "You can tell me. I wouldn't think of you any differently."
Whatever she had expected him to say, the words that came out of his mouth with such fierce anger and disgust at himself were not it. "I tortured first-years, 'Mione. When the death eaters took over Hogwarts, D.A.D.A. turned into Dark Arts and we needed… I didn't want to. Bloody Neville took more than a few Cruciatus curses to protect the youngest ones," he choked, hiding his tears with the back of his hand as he tilted his head away from her.
Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She had no clue what he'd been through. No clue what the war was like. No clue how any of them survived up until that day Draco came back. She said she wouldn't judge him, and she stood by that. She didn't want to see him as distressed as he was now, however.
"Maybe you can tell me about that some other time," she whispered into his hair as she put her head on the top of his. "I can't even start to imagine what the war was like. Why don't you tell me about the other me. What was she like? Am I like her?"
"You are more alike than you can even begin to imagine," he said after a while, Hermione trying to calm him down by enveloping him in the comfortable feeling of her magic. Merlin, it felt nice to feel the magical strands intertwining again, even if it was so very faint and took way more effort than usual. She'd been without his magic for only a little while, but she missed it. "Even if you're a snake this time round, you're still as loyal and fierce as a lion, standing up to anything that comes in your way. You've always supported your loved ones. You've always been brilliant and cunning. You kept Rita Skeeter in a jar for about a week after she pissed you off and you figured out she was a beetle animagus," he laughed.
Hermione laughed right along with him, happy that he finally had the energy to laugh and that the darker topics were set aside for now. That Skeeter woman was a piece of work. Part of her was sad she had no memory of that, and she vowed she would ask Draco to show her someday. If only she could remember her past life as well… Then Draco wouldn't have had to struggle through all of this on his own for the past four years.
"If we are so alike," she began tentatively, "then why did you want to break the vow?"
"I thought that was obvious, 'Mione," he said, clasping her hand in his with more strength than she'd expected from him in his sickly state. "Everything should have always been your choice, 'Mione. Not mine. Even if Luna mentioned there was a possibility that we would end up together, I never assumed we would. All I could hope for was that you would be my friend and would stand by me like you had done when you were…" He seemed to struggle for a moment and Hermione wanted to reach out to him, but before she could, he continued. "I know you don't have her memories," Draco finally whispered, his eyes downcast. "I know that you're not the same person, even if you are so very much alike. You haven't lived through any of these experiences. You don't remember what I used to be like. You don't remember us. You don't remember what it was like growing up as we did. My 'Mione became my wife because the war forced us to grow up fast. If Magical Britain wasn't such a lousy, bigoted, and dreadful place, we might have dated and gotten to know each other better. We were just teenagers. I'd barely turned seventeen when we vowed to protect each other. It was the only way to be there for one another when we were on different sides of the war, especially considering our magic was bound and we could sustain each other if needed, even if she did Obliviate me…" Draco took a deep breath and stared at their younger selves again before he whispered: "That vow my wife and I made in front of magic, the vow that we would always protect each other, was not your burden to bear."
She thought about that for a second. It was strange to have him refer to her other future self as his wife, as an entirely different entity than herself. Was she truly? She supposed memories influenced a person's personality and actions. But when she thought more about it, imagined what it would be like to be in Draco's shoes, in her shoes, she decided that… She would've done the same thing.
"Yet, here you are," she whispered back to him. "Still protecting me."
"Always," he answered forcefully, looking up at her. His stormy grey eyes were full of determination. "It was the least I could do after everything your other self did to protect me."
"Even if I wouldn't remember? Even if me and her wouldn't end up being the same person?" she asked. Somehow, doubt had seeped into her mind. Had he only been by her side because of the vow he'd wanted to fulfil to his dead wife? That dreaded doubt had always been there, ever since she knew about the bond and how he was attempting to break it. His veela powers appearing had not helped with her insecurities either, even if she'd talked to Bill and Fleur about it plenty of times since the second task.
"Yes, 'Mione. There was nothing else I could do. Coming back in time to save you, to change things for the better, is the scariest yet best thing I could've done," he answered her honestly.
"You could have just let me die that night at the Manor," she finally whispered. "You could have saved yourself when you used that time-turner. Could have moved away overseas and lived out your life away from all of this. You had enough magical skill to disguise yourself as an adult in both the muggle and the wizarding world. You could've not bothered with me or Harry."
He frowned up at her and took both of her hands in his, reassuring her. "Spending time with you and Harry, or any of our other friends for that matter, has never been a bother. If it had been her, if it had been you, who had the chance to go back and change things for the better, I know you would have done the same. Even if I am unsure if you would have succeeded, considering my… Upbringing," he almost spat. She could only imagine what it would be like to see him as nothing more but a copy of his father, yet having memories of him growing up to be her husband, only to have him hate her again because of her blood. Hermione had no clue how she would have dealt with that.
"But I have to admit," he said suddenly, breaking her train of thought, "I didn't do it only for you. You see, the first time round, I didn't really have friends before fifth year when you and I… Before that, there was no you. No Harry. No Daphne and Blaise even. I wasn't just snobby. I was a bully, surrounded by other bullies. I was selfish." He sighed, dropping his head. "I still am selfish. Without me, you wouldn't have been a Slytherin. Neither would Harry. The Weasleys would have been your magical family. You'd have multiple boys claiming to be your protective older brother. The Blacks would not have been your family, and definitely not the Malfoys." He looked up at her again. "That is, and will always be, my biggest regret. That you and Harry didn't get to grow up with Ron and Ginny. That you and Harry didn't grow up in the Tower, but instead were raised in the Dungeons."
She frowned at him. Had he truly taken part of her magical family from her? Had she always been meant to be a lioness, rather than a snake? No. It didn't matter. She was still friends with Bill and Ginny. Even the twins were nice to her. She'd lost Ron, that was true. The memory of him wailing her name as she died in Malfoy Manor was burnt into her mind, however. He had clearly loved her, but the Ron she knew now seemed so different. True, the boy had slowly but surely started growing up, but Hermione didn't necessarily like him. Perhaps, in the next three years, she would put in an effort to get to know him so they could become friends once again.
"I would still have visited with Sirius, even if I spent more time with the Weasleys. And me and Daph-" the pained expression on Draco's face made her stop in her tracks. What was it he'd said when they left that damned drawing room? That Harry had lived with the Dursleys until he was seventeen? That could only mean one thing. Looking at Draco, he had somehow managed to interpret her silence for realisation. "Sirius?" she whispered, raising her hand in front of her mount in fear, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.
"In Azkaban for the betrayal of James and Lily Potter and killing a bunch of muggles until he escaped in our third year," he replied sadly. "He died at the end of our fifth year… Killed by Bellatrix Lestrange."
"Killed?" she whispered. "But Amelia-"
"Was killed by Voldemort in the Summer of 1996. He didn't want the Head of the D.M.L.E. opposing him and changing legislation to get more aurors," he answered, taking in the shock on her face.
"But what about the twins? And Susan? They-" Her eyes went wide. No. That couldn't be. If Sirius had been in Azkaban until third year, then… Then. No.
"There were no twins, 'Mione," he replied sadly.
Hermione gasped and felt herself starting to shake. Draco seemed to notice her panic and moved his body, making a little more space on the armchair so she could slip half onto the chair, half onto his lap. As soon as he invited her over to him, she started sobbing and clung onto his shirt, his arms encircling her body. Even the soothing rubs on her back were not enough to stop her tears. She and Ginny had been babysitting little Polarys and Castor just this Easter. She remembered holding Polarys' hand as they were slowly making their way through the streets of London, Castor sleeping in the stroller that Sirius had conjured for them. She had no clue how long she sat there, sobbing in shock, clinging onto Draco for dear life. At some point, she calmed down enough so that only silent tears were running down her face. Her best friend was still holding onto her, as she hid her face in the crook of his neck, looking for comfort, trying to become as small as possible. "Who else?" she finally whispered. "Tell me. Tell me about all of them. What about Harry?"
"The last time I saw him was in that Drawing Room," he admitted. "The last time I saw you, when we spoke that vow, you were going to hide your parents. We'd talked before on how Dumbledore had tasked Harry with finding the remaining Horcruxes. Considering my unfortunate position in living in a home with more than one madman, we decided it was best not to talk about them too much, in case one of those baboons would break into my mind. I can only assume that you were on the run, looking for the Horcruxes. I have no clue if you succeeded or not, but you looked starved 'Mione. I have no clue how the three of you survived on the run during our entire seventh year. Until that day the three of you were delivered on my doorstep by a bunch of snatchers." He sighed. "I could feel something was off that entire year, like my magic was slowly but surely leaving me. I'd even considered Voldemort's dark mark was sucking some of my magic out of me. I was so tired. So hungry. Now I realise it was the vow, doing its best to keep you alive by seeping the magic you needed out of me."
Even though she was interested in hearing more about Harry, she couldn't help but wonder about the night she died. She was entirely confident in her own capabilities and was not surprised that she had Obliviated him well enough so he wouldn't remember her, making him more than confused when he noticed his own magic was being drained. But how had Deandra never appeared to help her that night? How had the Veela magic inside him not lashed out at his wife lying there dying?
"I never understood why Deandra didn't come to my aid," she inquired. "Or why your veela didn't come out. Had you tamed it that well by the time you were seventeen? Like Fleur said you would?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "Hermione, that memory you witnessed… I had never even heard of Deandra before you died. The only reason why she broke loose was because you, the descendant of Armand Malfoy's adopted daughter, because my wife, was bleeding her magic all over the ancestral wards. Deandra is strong, but bound to House Malfoy. She had been living in the walls of the Manor for years as she was unable to get through to either my father or grandfather. Only an ancient vow made between her and Armand made her break loose, and gave me the power to become the Lord of Malfoy Manor, making you its Mistress."
Ancient ley magic was a tricky thing. Hermione had tried to read upon it and had conversed about it with Deandra. She just couldn't imagine Draco growing up without the spirit. She could barely even consider herself growing up without the knowledge of her. Deandra had always been a mentor to Hermione, perhaps even a loving aunt of some sort. To think Draco had been living in the manor, death eaters crawling around every corner, without the spirit's protection made her skin crawl.
"Also," Draco continued, bringing her out of her thoughts, "the veela magic wasn't that strong in me the last time around. I fought against it for a very long time. Like I said, I was a bigoted bully. In no universe would I ever believe that my blood would be tainted by creature blood. Even if there was a pull to you, I ignored it quite easily up until the Yule Ball. Continued to do so for a while after that. In addition, my upbringing…" she could see him thinking on how to phrase it correctly. "Now I know, my mother never wished for me to follow in my father's footsteps. But the first time round… Let's just say, I didn't have a lot of loving and supporting adults around me as I do this time. I didn't have any friends. I'm sure you noticed how both me and Harry looked slightly different in the memory?"
She nodded at that. Harry had looked at least a head smaller than he was now at nearly fifteen. She didn't want to start imagining just why that was.
"Despite the old goat's many quirks and secrets, he has always been right about one thing," Draco sighed. "Dumbledore is a firm believer that the most powerful magic of all is love. Granted, Harry needed a few nutritional potions to help reverse the damage the Dursleys had done to him, but him growing up with an actual loving family throughout the years has made him more powerful than he was before. It even made me more powerful since the veela magic settled in me, unlike before. Both him and I were finally allowed to grow in what we were always supposed to be. Even Neville has been doing better than last time round. He's more confident in his own abilities. It didn't take him six years to grow into himself." He chuckled at the thought of how different a loving family and supportive friends had made all of them.
Hermione thought for a little while about what he'd said. She'd heard the Headmaster's claim often, it had been the reason why he'd bound the blood wards so tightly to Harry, thinking his aunt would be able to love him. Thinking it would be some sort of additional protection for the boy. But now, as she had seen Harry the first time round, she couldn't help but scowl at the idea of Harry growing up with his family. "So, Harry grew up with the Dursleys then? He didn't spend part of his summers with me?"
Draco shook his head sadly. "I know that the both of you spent some time at the Burrow, but… Dumbeldore wanted to keep him tied to the blood wards and sent him back to the Dursleys every summer… You often told me how you noticed he'd been starved, even beaten by his Uncle, but that he wouldn't allow you to tell anyone. Almost as if he was ashamed, thinking it was his fault for being a freak."
Hermione hissed at that. If she would ever see the Dursleys again, she would… Ugh. Perhaps she should join Dobby in his pranking once Draco was finally released from the Hospital Wing. She had more than a few creative ways of annoying them, especially the oaf of a man who went by the name Vernon. "It would never have been his fault," Hermione said fiercely. "If it was anyone's fault, it was the adults' who refused to do anything about it. It should have been plain as day to see that he was mistreated by his family members. My mum and yours immediately noticed it this time around. I am happy that you did what you could for him," she said gratefully. "I am sure my other self would be too."
He smiled at her and let her continue her inquiries about their friends and family. Hermione had finally scooted beside him again, the armchair way too tiny for the two of them, but she was still holding his hand, needing reassurance. "You mentioned I obliviated my parents. I assume I sent them out of the country for their protection?" Once Draco nodded, she decided to move onto her friends. "Daphne?"
Draco shifted uncomfortably at the mention of her best friend. "As you were never sorted in Slytherin, you never became friends," he admitted. "I did see you work on a project for Ancient Runes together once, but you never interacted outside of the classroom, or unless assigned by a teacher to work together. Last I heard, Lord Greengrass had taken her and Tori to South Africa, hiding from the war."
That made sense. Daphne's father would never let anything happen to his daughters. "What about Blaise?"
He sighed at her. "All the Slytherins you are planning to list, 'Mione… You didn't exist to them. If you did, you were nothing more than the annoying, swotty mudblood that used to hang around with Harry freakin Potter. We hadn't thought of a heritage test until well into our sixth year and by then it was too late."
Even if it pained her to think she didn't have her Slytherin friends the last time round, she assumed that she would have instead made friends with the Gryffindors, seeing as Ron Weasley was clearly one of her best friends. "Well, then tell me about my friends in Gryffindor. I would have been dormmates with Lavender and-"
Draco interrupted her, shaking his head. "You were… Too much of a bookworm for the girls in your dorm to truly pay any attention to you. Sure, you studied with Neville and you were still best friends with Harry. Ron was also part of your little golden trio. But apart from the Weasley twins and Ginny… You and the rest of the Gryffindors were all quite indifferent toward each other."
She could barely believe it. The only other friend she had in that timeline was Ron Weasley? Not Lavender? Not Parvati? Not Dean and Seamus? No one? Had she been that much of an outcast?
Almost as if he could hear her thoughts and self-doubt, Draco decided to tell her some about the friends she had now, and how they differed. "You helped Ginny a lot, with getting over Harry," he supplied. Her eyes went wide at that. What did he mean getting over Harry? They had basically been attached at the hip since the moment they met.
"Ginny was quite starstruck with the Boy-Who-Lived," he explained, seeing her confusion. "The first time, she was possessed by the Diary Horcrux, yet again thanks to the meddling of my father. She was the only one who got dragged down to the Chamber. Harry didn't know he was the Lord Slytherin then, so when he, Ron, and that idiot Lockhart went down to save Ginny… Lockhart still ended up obliviating himself, but Harry had to kill Sirona. He'd never talked to her, didn't know who she was. Ginny's saviour complex concerning Harry became stronger after that, but she had you to help her, to give Harry space and get over him. I remember when you ran into the Room of Requirement one time, almost yelling my head off that Harry had been on a date with Cho Chang and how you had to console Ginny. She started dating Dean not long after, I think? I can't remember. I'm sorry to say I wasn't that interested in the love lives of the Gryffindorks," he admitted sheepishly.
"So she and Harry, they never?" Hermione whispered in disbelief.
"Oh no," Draco laughed. "Don't worry. They found each other in the end. You were quite happily telling me about how he kissed her in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room after you lot had just won a Quidditch Match." His eyes seemed to get lost in a memory and he chuckled, clearly remembering something.
"What?" she wondered, wanting him to tell her more, once more desperately wishing she'd actually remembered all he was saying now.
"I just remembered that you noted that was the only positive thing about Quidditch, that it had the ability to have people get their heads out of their arses so they would finally kiss," he admitted, still chuckling.
Hermione noted that there was a slight blush to his cheeks, and was relieved that he was getting healthier. Wait. Why was he blushing? She quirked an eyebrow at him, asking just that.
"Let's just say the first time we kissed was on the Quidditch Pitch. Although, with no onlookers compared to Harry and Ginny," he admitted as Hermione's blush matched his own.
Trying to steer the conversation away from the two of them kissing she cleared her throat. "What about the other houses? Was I friends with Hannah and Susan?"
He seemed to think on this for a second. "You never told me about them, so I can only assume you weren't. I'm not sure. Hannah's mum was killed by death eaters in our sixth year, a little after Amelia," he said sadly.
Not wanting to contemplate how that event would affect her Hufflepuff friend, she kept going down her mental list of people she considered her friends and family. "What about Cedric? Was he the Champion last time round? You seemed to be-" She froze again, losing count at the number of shocks she'd gone through the past few hours. "When you were out of it yesterday, you asked if Ced was alive this time."
Draco winced at that. "You caught that, did you?" She nodded, urging him to explain. "The champions were the exact same as the last time. What was different, was that Remus was no longer the D.A.D.A. teacher. There was no cure, and the curse on the position was still very active. Our replacement was a former auror, Alastor Moody. I'm sure you've heard of him." Hermione nodded again, wishing Draco to continue. "In reality, it was Barty Crouch Jr., one of Voldemort's followers, who was using Polyjuice potion. I'm glad I got rid of him much earlier this time round by getting Sirius out of Azkaban."
He was silent for a while, Hermione processing what he'd just said. He'd changed so many things so subtly, trying to make things better for both Harry and her. For the Wizarding World, really. He'd mentioned the Horcruxes but it sounded as if no one had had any clue about them for a long time in his past. For all intents and purposes, he had been fighting the war in the shadows, attempting to save as many as possible. She was in awe of what he'd achieved.
"As our dear friend Luna likes to remind us, some things are always mean to happen. It's why I was so pushy in getting Harry and Cedric to train. I knew if anything would go wrong, that Voldemort might be resurrected again after the third task. But I wanted Cedric to come out alive this time. I wanted all of them to come out alive. Whatever happened to Harry in that graveyard the last time, he was entirely alone. Probably made it out of there by sheer dumb luck. I will never forget his face as he portkeyed back, Cedric's dead body with him. I'm happy that proved to be different this time. What I hadn't accounted for was death eaters attacking the crowd. Some of the changes I've made have consequences it seems…" he mused. "Did anyone else die? Yesterday?" he suddenly asked, worried.
Hermione shook her head. "No one in the crowd. A few death eaters, according to Amelia. Some spectators and aurors are in St. Mungo's, but by sheer luck no one died, even if some have suffered greatly. Your Aunt Andromeda has been helping out in the Hospital Wing too. She's been watching over you. If nothing else, to appease your worried mother." She gave him a smile that had his heart clenching as his 'Mione peeked through, even just a little bit.
Draco seemed to have been holding his breath. "Good, that's good. I wanted to save Cedric, but I wouldn't be able to bear it if anyone else…" Both of them drifted off in their thoughts for a while, thinking of everyone that could have been lost.
"Poor Daph," Hermione said. "Even if we weren't friends, it must have been hard for her to lose Cedric like that."
"They were never together," Draco said silently, making Hermione's eyebrows raise. "A lot of our friends spent their time alone… I know that Neville and Hannah had started dating by sixth year, but Susan and Theo? Daphne and Ced? Blaise and Luna? That would all have been unheard of."
Hermione tilted her head. How could a few changes shift events so much? "Luna and I, we were friends?" she whispered hopefully. All she needed from Draco was his smile, confirming they were. "She had you, Harry, Ginny, and Neville," he answered. "Everyone else thought she was weird. Even you did."
A laugh escaped her lips. "Well, she is Luna. But I love her for it."
Draco smiled back at her. "Don't we all?"
Happy at finally hearing some good news, she wondered if Luna had survived the war. A darkness settled over Draco again, making her fear the worst.
"Luna had been trapped in the dungeons at the Manor for quite a while before Dobby came to save them that night… She…" Hermione took his hand in hers again, understanding it was difficult for him to continue. "I talked to her sometimes, when I had to guard her. At school everyone called her Looney Lovegood, but at the Manor… She was the sanest person I encountered."
Hearing him use that moniker for her made her frown. Luna was strange. But that was exactly what made her so likeable. She was just waiting for the day that Luna would give them free reign to stop her bullies. The twins surely knew a prank or two they could play on Ravenclaw House. Speaking of the twins.
"What about my relationship with the Weasleys? You mentioned they were my magical family. What about Bill?"
"You loved Molly Weasley's cooking," he admitted. "Spent quite a few of your summer holidays at the Burrow. You and Ginny were thick as thieves, and I one time caught you answering one of the twins' letters and advising them on some potion ingredients for one of their new inventions. When I caught you, you looked quite mischievous, I must say. Bill was attacked by Fenrir, not under a full moon though, so he never turned. Last I heard he was happily married to Fleur while most of his brothers were on the run. Ginny stayed at Hogwarts and protected the students together with Neville during what was supposed to be our seventh year."
He'd mentioned that a few times before now. How they'd been on the run during seventh year. How D.A.D.A. had turned into Dark Arts. That death eaters had been running the school. Such a peculiar thing to have happened. "I don't understand why Dumbledore sent out a bunch of teenagers to look for horcruxes while he could barely keep control of the school," she scoffed.
Draco went completely still beside her, tension locking his muscles, his jaw clenched as his eyes took on a far off look and she realised she'd said the wrong thing. Before she could ask him what was wrong, he spoke in a tired, monotone voice.
"During my sixth year, after my father had fallen from grace in the Dark Lord's eyes, I was branded a death eater and tasked with killing Dumbledore by letting death eaters into the castle," he said, making Hermione gasp. "Both you and my Godfather helped me in certain ways. You didn't want me to get killed, so you found ways of helping me fix a vanishing cabinet to let them in… You spent nights studying the Hogwarts Wards to keep the students in their dorms that night, making sure the death eaters wouldn't be able to harm anyone else. I had to keep it hidden from my Godfather, and I was dodging him, until one night he cornered me. He had taken a vow and promised my mother he would complete the task if I couldn't do it…" he sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "I couldn't do it. I could never do it. It was why the other death eaters often made fun of me. I didn't have the heart to take another's life. So, when the death eaters came, it was Severus who killed Dumbledore."
She was silent for a while, processing what he had said. Hermione would do anything in her power to protect her friends. But would she help death eaters get into the castle? Granted, she'd also found a way to keep the other students safe, but… Was this what it would be like now that Voldemort had returned? Were these the choices teenagers had to make during a war? No wonder Draco had taken so well to having a second chance, to finally be a teenager this time round. True, he had admitted his memories made him about five years older than her. But his mischievous goofiness with Harry and Blaise, as well as his brotherly bickering with Daphne, made him seem like any other teenager walking the Hogwarts Halls. If she hadn't figured out that he had gone back in time to save them, she would've considered his maturity and magical skill to be just that. She almost giggled when she remembered Deandra's exasperated admission of how his brain seemed to have regressed by a few years when puberty had hit him again.
"Did any of the other teachers die during our school years?" she finally asked, noticing that Draco had calmed down a little after his precious admissions.
Draco sat up straight, clearly still haunted by what he'd just told her. "Well, Quirrel died exactly as before. I think? You never really told me what happened there. As I said, in second year Ginny was actually possessed by one of the Horcruxes and opened the Chamber of Secrets. Sirona died and Lockhart's memories were turned to mush. Hagrid was even sent to Azkaban for two months since they thought he'd opened the Chamber. Bloody wankers at the Ministry, I tell you. Remus, of course, got booted at the end of our third year since there was no cure. Professor Burbage got killed by Voldemort in 1997 because she claimed muggles were much like us. Any of the other teachers we've had that had bad things happen to them aren't worth mentioning. I don't know if you will ever meet them. Dear Merlin, I hope not. Else our next year won't be fun with that toad around."
That toad? That was definitely information to store for later. "What about Professor Lupin and Tonks? What happened to them?"
"Tonks was pregnant, I believe. She and Remus were definitely high on the list of adversaries. Aunt Andromeda's husband was killed not long before you three showed up at the Manor…"
Hermione rubbed her temple. This was getting a bit too much. So many people had died. Were perhaps still about to die. But still, she had hope. "If Cedric survived, and the twins were born, then it means that not every life has to be lost, right?"
Draco smiled at her as he grabbed her hand. "That's what I've been trying to ensure. Less death and destruction. Ending the war before it can properly begin. Some things did get messed up along the way. Things might have changed too much for me to really know what is coming anymore. But at least this time, you and Harry are more prepared."
The reminder of Harry and what his life might have been like made her eyes water. "You've saved more than just me," she whispered. "Even if you came back to save me, you did everything you could to make everyone's lives better. I don't even want to think about what it was like for him growing up with the Dursleys instead of Sirius and Amelia."
This time it was him rubbing soothing circles on her hand. "He had you and Ron. He had the Weasleys. You two took care of him as his brother and sister. I remember you were so angry after Sirius died and Dumbledore forbade you, or anyone for that matter, to contact Harry. You were about to defy the Headmaster. You told him that Harry should not be left alone to grieve and mourn." He seemed thoughtful for a second. "If one thing has changed about you, it is that your cunning shows more. That you've learnt to think for yourself sooner. You always looked up to authority figures like McGonagall and Dumbledore, but now people actually require your respect before you take their opinions into consideration. You've learnt to make your own decisions."
She smiled at him. "So I am still me?"
"No one is as stubborn as you, Hermione Granger," he chuckled. "Not even I or magic itself could change you. You've always been passionate and determined. Extremely brilliant and courageous."
As his words lingered, she unfroze the memory of them meeting and they walked to the doorway when their younger selves said goodbye to each other. Even if Draco was looking healthier, she noticed he was still leaning against the doorframe for some extra support. Both he and his younger self frowned when her memory said: "It was very nice to meet someone before I actually start Hogwarts. I've never met someone like me before."
"Did you know?" she wondered as the memory came to a close. "That I was bullied before I came to Hogwarts?"
"I did," he admitted. He took her hand in his, indicating he was ready to be pulled into the next memory. "Your life might not have been as difficult or unfair as Harry's since you had your parents who supported you. But even you were called a freak in school. How you were bullied for being too smart." He sighed. "And then there was me and my dumb arse making it even worse when you joined the Wizarding World. A lot of us Slytherins were calling you filth, called you a-" he hesitated. "A mudblood. You weren't even friends with Harry and Ron until after Halloween. One time, you confessed that you spent most of your first months alone. I wanted to stop that from happening this time. I wanted to make you, and Harry, feel home in the world where you've always belonged."
She was grateful for what he had done. She couldn't begin to imagine what it would have been like to start Hogwarts without Harry and Draco by her side. To spend the first two months utterly alone. "I can't believe at least me and Harry weren't friends from the beginning," she said sadly. "What did I do those first two months?"
He seemed to think for a second before answering. "You sat with Neville from time to time. But usually, you were alone in the library. Do you remember when my godfather told you not to show off your smarts because other children would dislike it?" She nodded, remembering that particular instance. She'd felt hurt that time, but now she understood why her Head of House had done it. Children really could be cruel. "No one told you last time, even if McGonagall did take pity on you, her favourite student. When you answered all of the teacher's questions, everyone came to know you as the teachers' pet. A swotty little know-it-all. The Gryffindor Princess who thought she was better than all of us."
She frowned, understanding how it might seem that way. "But I never thought that," she argued. "I just…"
"I know, 'Mione," he said, squeezing her hand in understanding. She looked up at him and smiled, whisking him away to a different memory than she'd originally planned.
- Hermione's bedroom, 4th of August 1991 –
From her previous conversation with Draco, it seemed as if he was scared about influencing her to pick Slytherin over Gryffindor. Of having her grow up without spending her summers at the Burrow. She had to admit, part of her wondered what it would be like, but she was glad to have spent them with the Blacks and at Malfoy Manor instead. She was friends with Ginny and Bill, so she was sure that some of those moments spent at the Burrow would still come to pass.
As soon as they arrived in her bedroom, her younger self writing to Draco in her silver diary, she noticed how the blonde teen next to her stilled and looked around the room. He was studying every nook and cranny, his eyes lingering on some of her family pictures, a soft smile on his lips before he finally sat down on her bed, still looking around. "It looks so you," he said, almost amazed.
"You've never been here before," she suddenly realised, slightly surprised that he hadn't.
He scowled at her. "Of course I haven't 'Mione. Even this time, we've been friends for four years. The most I've seen from your room is from standing in the hallway while the door was open. Why would you think that I've been here before?"
A blush spread along her cheeks, unsure if she should give him a proper explanation. "Is it that strange of me to think that you'd been here, considering you were my boyfriend? My husband even," she replied. "I thought you would've at least visited my house."
He shook his head and she was glad he hadn't made fun of the blush on her face. "Our relationship was never out in the open, and it would have been way too dangerous for me to be spending time here with you and your parents," he replied. "I only visited the garden. To warn you, to make the vow. After that, you obliviated me, and I never returned until you invited me over in this timeline."
"No one knew about us?" she wondered out loud. She faintly remembered that both Harry and Ron in her memory had seemed so surprised when Draco even knew about her beaded bag. That reminded her… She should definitely start working on that undetectable extension charm. "What about my mum?"
"No one," he confirmed. "That was what was safest, considering what sides we were on. You were Harry Potter's best friend, and I was-" He absentmindedly scratched the inside of his left forearm, frowning as he did.
"A death eater," she finished for him, finally sitting down on the bed next to him.
He nodded curtly and they looked as her younger self took out a black diary, starting to write. After a while, Draco got curious and stood up, looking over her shoulder. When he noticed she was writing to him and Harry about Hogwarts houses, he looked back at her sadly.
"Are you disappointed you didn't grow up in either the Gryffindor or Ravenclaw tower?" he asked.
She shook her head. This was the reason she'd brought him here. "Although it would have been nice to know what it was like, I think being a snake suits me best," she said honestly. "After what you told me, I might have had Harry and Ron, but in Slytherin… I have you, Harry, Daphne, Blaise, Theo, and Astoria… I still have most of my other friends, more even if we consider Hannah and Susan. I wouldn't trade my friends just to be in Gryffindor red and gold. And Ravenclaw… I might've hexed them within the first week of Luna coming there for what they are doing to her," she admitted.
He chuckled at the thought of that, before turning serious again. "Even if you aren't in red and gold, you're still a lioness within," he said earnestly. "How you taunted Greyback, 'Mione… I had to hold myself together to not jump in between you and him unnecessarily, to keep my cool before I could throw that potion. I know you can fight your own battles, but please, for Merlin's sake, warn me next time you are going to taunt a monster like him."
She nodded, smiling up at him and Draco moved back to the bed when Hermione's mother walked towards the bedroom. The younger Hermione had just finished writing in the diary, closing it with a bang, and her mother was hovering in the doorway.
"What's wrong, pumpkin?" she asked, finally walking over as she saw the tears forming in her daughter's eyes.
A side glance at Draco made Hermione realise that he was worried about her too. She'd never told him of her insecurities of being good enough to join Slytherin. Of actually wanting to spend all her time with Harry and him.
As Jean Granger crouched next to her daughter's chair, the girl sobbed: "What if I don't belong in any of the houses, mum? Harry and Draco said we would stick together, but what if we get separated? It's only been a few days, but I've never talked to someone as much as I have to them. No one has ever understood me as well as they do. Harry is so sassy and funny, always making jokes, even if he's a bit shy. And Draco, he's wickedly smart and eloquent. He's very considerate of both me and Harry. It feels nice, having friends."
Draco swallowed deeply, and even Hermione was having issues keeping it together when her mother hugged her closer.
"Oh 'Mione. Why are you so worried about being separated? For the past weeks you've been researching the different houses and explained quite a lot to me. I even read up on it myself in Hogwarts a History. If you truly are supposed to be friends, then why would magic separate the three of you? Why would the hat do such a thing?"
The younger Hermione then started explaining what Draco had told her and Harry about the houses and that the sorting hat would take their wishes into account. Her mother encouraged her to pick the same as her friends if that was what she truly wanted. "You will only be in that House for seven years," she said. "What matters is the friendships you build along the way. No matter what House you are in, I am sure you will find friends. But if you truly want to stay with the boys, then you should choose what is best for you, pumpkin."
Hermione nodded and had taken the handkerchief her mother had given her, wiping away her tears. "The three of us thought about Gryffindor and Slytherin, because that's where Harry and Draco will most likely end up considering their parents," she said. "But I think Draco wants to be in Slytherin most, because…" She seemed to be doubtful, unsure if she should confess this to her mother. "His parents might not like it if he doesn't get sorted into Slytherin, because they were Slytherins themselves," she whispered. "But I- I can't be in Slytherin because I'm a muggleborn," she cried again. "Draco said we could do a heritage test, but mum, neither you or dad have magic! There is no way we descend from wizards and witches. And I've actually started liking the idea of being part of that House…"
Her mother smiled at her, wiping away the tears. "I have an inkling feeling that we do have magic in our veins, somewhere," she said. "How else would we have ended up with such a gifted daughter like yourself?" Hermione nodded absentmindedly, still unsure. "We can meet the boys for a heritage test. But don't let it influence you. If you really don't want to be in Slytherin, then pick the one that suits you best, alright?"
The memory came to an end there, freezing in place.
"I'm so happy my mum was right," Hermione confessed. "Even though I see both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw traits in myself, I realised that I'm too determined and stubborn to truly belong in either one of those."
"I'm glad you think that way. I do wonder if the hat did agree with you…" he mused.
Grabbing his hand and winking at him, they skipped forward to the day she first saw Hogwarts.
- September 1st, 1991, the Great Hall –
Draco almost stumbled at the abruptness with which she had led the two of them to their sorting in the Great Hall. As she was still holding his hand, she pulled him towards the front of the room, up the stairs, to stand right next to Professor McGonagall. As she saw herself walk up to the tiny wooden stool, the Gryffindor Head of House ready to put the sorting hat on her head, she couldn't help but smile.
"I was so nervous," she whispered right before the hat touched her head. "I know we agreed to be in Slytherin, but I was still doubtful I would belong with the snakes, considering the past few generations of squibs in my line."
"We would've followed you anywhere you were sorted," Draco answered. "Harry and I agreed. All three of us grew up alone and neither one of us was about to give up our friendship. You didn't need to worry so much. Ravenclaw, even Gryffindor, would've been just fine with us."
"Not Hufflepuff," she smiled knowingly, her eyes alight with laughter as she teased him.
He frowned at her. "Please, 'Mione. I am a Malfoy. At least some of my dignity needs to be kept intact."
"Prat," she said as she nudged him in the side, noticing he was finally standing up straight without any help from herself or the nearest object he could lean on for support. "You know you love the badgers."
He was about to quip something back at her, until they both heard the hat talking to the younger brunette. "Plenty of courage, I see. Quite loyal to your friends if you'd be willing to be sorted anywhere as long as you are with them. A strong sense of justice as well. Mhm." The hat was quiet for a second and chuckled. "Always proud of your achievements, no matter your adversaries' response, it seems. And quite ambitious if I may be so bold?" A blush spread on the younger Hermione's face. "Minister for Magic, you say? Yes, you definitely are determined enough… Stubborn too. Magical Britain could do with a strong leader like you. Better be… Slytherin!"
"Minister for Magic?" Draco asked her incredulously as the younger Hermione basically skipped down the stairs towards the Slytherin table.
Hermione whipped her hair back, snobbishly, looking down her nose at him, trying to imitate his own behaviour as best as possible to tease him. "Why, Lord Malfoy. Who better than me to influence politics to improve the rights of muggleborns, house elves and other magical creatures?" she quipped, smirking.
He smirked back at her, raising his eyebrow. "Miss Dagworth-Granger, even at nearly twelve years of age you carried such ambition?"
She shrugged at him. "Ever since I met Dobby and you mentioned how bigoted the wizarding world could be, I started researching."
He chuckled. "Of course you did."
"Minister for Magic seems to be the only logical outcome, doesn't it? And if we do beat Voldemort this time around, I want to ensure that no dark wizard or witch has such ease rising because of the lack of funding for the D.M.L.E. or the number of bigots in power in the Wizengamot."
"A noble pursuit," he said, putting his hands in his pockets as he continued watching his own and Harry's sorting. "Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea that I started forming so many political alliances these past few years. You already have sixteen votes behind you, Miss Dagworth-Granger. Almost one-third of the Wizengamot down. If you ask nicely, I might even have found you an international ally in Lord Delacour."
She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Sixteen votes?!" she almost screeched. "How did you get sixteen votes?" Her mind started reeling. She'd witnessed some people owing him life debts, witnessed him binding his family with others, but she'd never considered he'd use all of these allies politically. And she'd never noticed there were sixteen Houses.
"Well, the sixteenth was unexpected," he began. "Ever since I became Lord Malfoy, I learnt that my father had gotten himself the rights to the Crouch vaults and House, seeing as he was the one who put an end to the Crouch line by having Barty Crouch end up in Azkaban and having his son kissed by Dementors. Then, as I am sure you remember, Bill Weasley's future wife owes me a life debt, and seeing as he is connected to the Weasleys… The Prewett vote is also ours. The other votes are most of our friends, who have promised me their aid once they take over as their heads of house so that makes a total of sixteen. Malfoy, Crouch, Potter, Slytherin, Black, Dagworth-Granger, Weasley, Prewett, Lovegood, Bones, Longbottom, Abbott, Nott, Zabini, Greengrass, and finally Diggory."
Hermione looked at him in disbelief. Sure, she had ambitions to one day run for Minister. To change the wizarding world and take it by storm. To show all those pureblooded bigots out there that she was more than the descendant of squibs. To make sure no magical child would ever have to grow up again in an unloving home, like Harry had. To protect house elves and other magical creatures' rights. She'd imagined it would take years of proving herself, working her way up at the Ministry, and perhaps by the time she was forty-five, things would have changed enough for her to be able to run. With what Draco had been doing… She could run by the time she was thirty.
"Would you help me?" she whispered then, looking up at him in awe. "You could run for Minister yourself, you…"
He laughed, shaking his head. "Even if I wouldn't mind being in a position of power, and politics do intrigue me, I think being a businessman would suit me best. You might've noticed, I'm quite good at making deals," he winked. "So when you stand here, asking me if I would help you, I want you to get in that thick skull of yours, that we're in this together. You. Me. Harry. I'll always have both of your backs, no matter what."
Overwhelmed by the events of the past two days, and of his unwavering support and protection of both her and Harry throughout the years, she somehow found the Gryffindor courage to do something she'd been wanting to do for a very long time. Even when he teasingly called her a silly goose for ever doubting that he would help her, she didn't waver from her path. She tugged on his shirt, bringing his face down to hers.
"Thank you," she whispered, after softly kissing him on the lips.
He just blinked at her for a second, registering what had just happened. She'd made him speechless. Then, a boyish grin appeared on his face. "You're welcome, 'Mione."