Hello everyone. Long-time no see! Basically it's been a long time since I've written on this website but I got a review from a guest a few days ago on a story I hadn't updated in 5 years and they asked me to keep writing and it was just a really nice review and it's not that I haven't been writing I just have taken a back seat from fanfiction to work on a book I'm writing in hopes of it getting published. But this story has been with me for so long. Anyone who might follow my works will already know this basic story idea because I've taken a one-shot I wrote a few years ago and I've decided to write it into a full-length story. It has been to this day my favourite fanfiction I have written even though it was very short. I really enjoyed the idea of it and back when I originally wrote it I was in college and didn't have much time to actually write or explore the idea. But I've recently come into a lot of time as I've become unemployed. So I'm looking forward to actually writing this story and seeing where the story is going to go and maybe when it's finally done it won't plague me anymore! Let me know what you think and leave a review if you enjoyed it. I'm not sure how long this story is going to be just yet.


There is a hum in the air, palpable. It swarms around us all and has done for the past few weeks. I am nervous, as is everyone else. I can practically taste the fear in the air. It is crisp and cold as Dumbledore enters the Great Hall. The tables feel oddly empty with just the 6th years in the hall but divided nonetheless as we still sit at our segregated table. Harry and Ron have spent most of last night fumbling over it, wondering whether they would be lucky enough to be picked and who might be picked alongside them to go forth. Ron, of course, was in his usual 'Harry gets picked for everything' mood, which I try to dismiss.

As for me, I didn't bother with the fuss. Of course, it crossed my mind but not too much. I sat in the library by myself all night finishing an assignment that was due next week. I had already finished it but it didn't help to look over it one last time. I also had to write out some 'notes' for Harry and Ron to help with their assignment too.

When I was younger my mother had gone to a fortune teller and spent quite a bit of money back then to see her but she hadn't told her much. My mother complained about it the whole car ride home, assuring me that it was just a farce. A mere trick of the eye or someone who was gifted with reading people. Of course, that was before I got my letter. My mother didn't mention it much after that.

Nevertheless, some of the girls in my dormitory had been up all night crying, wondering what their lives would be like and what they'd do if they were chosen and shown a horrible future. If they'd still be in a relationship with the guy they were with now. Lavender, unfortunately, daydreamed aloud about a happy future with Ron, boasting to Padma and Ceila that this year was going to be the year they started dating. It made me feel a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't sure whether it was because it was lavender – whom I didn't always see eye to eye with- or the fact that it was Ron. I didn't dwell on it.

Dumbledore stepped up to quieten the chatter with an extension of his arms.

"Settle, settle, I know you all must be anxious and curious and most of all tired! We had a lot of sleepwalkers found early this morning in the strangest of places," Dumbledore laughed letting his half-moon glasses slide down his nose so he could wink at Neville subtly. I nudge Ron as a snigger escaped. He blocked his face ashamed as Ginny glared at him.

"Ronald behave," I whisper.

"Regardless, I hope you are all excited. It is not often our school is rewarded with such a great honour as to be chosen for the Fanques Future Award. It is an honour of the highest I must say." Dumbledore smiled. But then his face turned a lighter shade of pale as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"I must express," he begins, eyeing the room packed with eager, nervous students. His voice grows serious.

"What one is told about their future is the future that person will receive if they change nothing about their life's and continue on the path which they're going. If one is to see a horrible outcome all they have to do is change. Life is never black or white but we often know which path we are choosing when we take it," he says, stopping. Letting his words fill the silent air. A few girls huff at one another, not enjoying that way in which Dumbledore is making this situation too serious. I can see them whispering behind their hands.

" In some cases, a certain person who might not be on the path of righteousness is chosen and will see a future they could have if they changed their ways. But this outcome is rare. Regardless, this is an opportunity for you to change your life. It is very often we live in the past, dwelling on mistakes and words left unsaid. Now is the time to look forward. Now is the time to see what you as a person will become. It's all very exciting," he finishes with a small smile.

"Minerva the bowl please." He beckons towards Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall, with a flick of her wand, changed the large podium into a giant glass bowl designed to look like a tree, most likely to represent life and growth.

"Thank you'" he bowed.

"Now, two people from the chosen year of 6th year will be selected. One will be the receiver and one the giver." He says as I feel everyone lean forward in anticipation.

"The receiver will receive the highest honour of being given a glimpse into their future. The giver will be given a tiny vile in which they will bring to the Pensieve, view the receiver's future and then present the receiver with the news. Many well-known friendships have been based on this award between the giver and the receiver. We all know the story of David and Thomas Sheen, two acclaimed wizards. Thomas sheen saw in David's future his death by a terrible war to come. He then helped prevent it and a bond was born. Great things can come from this event, don't be so quick to gloat your news and forget who told you. Minerva if you will."

Again Professor McGonagal stepped forward, softening the crease on her robe. She smiled out somewhat half-heartedly at us before diving her hand into the bowl. I felt Lavenders body vibrating with anticipation in the chair across the table as she swooned over Ron. Everyone in the hall seemed to hold their breath at the same time. One giant collective inhale. In that moment of weakness, I allowed myself to ponder on the idea of what would happen if I was chosen. I thought, just for a second what my future might hold. Would Ron be there? Harry? Ginny? Would crook shanks live forever like my mom had promised when he got sick 4 years ago? Would I get married? Have children? But most of all as Professor McGonagal opened that piece of paper and handed it to Dumbledore I didn't think about whether or not I would be happy or all of those other simplistic things. I wonder would it tell me who I was supposed to be.

"Ah let's see," Dumbledore smized, adjusting his glasses to read the print.

"The winner of the Fanques Future Reciever goes to Miss Hermione Granger! Please a big round of applause!" Dumbledore says, clapping, motioning for everyone else to join in. I look around the room waiting for the girl to stand up but everywhere I turn eyes seem to meet mine with a gleeful and slightly bemused expression.

"Hermione, get up!" Ron says, pulling my elbow. His hand big and warm, it reminds me of my father's grip.

"Hmm?" I say, unsure. Ron stares at me incredulously.

"Hermione now," Ron says. "Before they change their mind and give it to someone else," he explains, standing up and pulling me up with him. A small laugh breaks out in areas around the hall.

"Now, now. Come, Miss Granger. I know you must be a little shocked," Dumbledore says, hushing the little outbursts of laughter.

It eventually sinks in when I'm on my feet. Ron pushes me ahead followed by Harry, somewhat harder than Ron. My palms start to sweat furiously and no amount of rubbing them against my pleated skirt seems to quell it. I look towards Lavender before I start walking to see her cheeks are as red as apples. She's furious and the second I see it I'm willing to give it back because as excited as Dumbledore looks for me, I am the one who has to share a room with Lavender Brown tonight. I set up to the front of the hall.

"Congratulations Ms Granger," Professor McGonagall says putting her arm on my shoulder and smiling. Dumbledore smiled brightly out to the crowd. Always the optimistic.

"Now for the giver!" Dumbledore states before letting a hand fall into his robe pocket and taking out a small vile. He already has it I thought.

"This was gathered from you last night while you slept Miss Granger," Dumbledore whispers down to me when he notices my confused expression peering up at him. I nod a little embarrassed I had been so obvious.

McGonagal again like before dips her hand into the glass bowl, smiling out to the crowd as she does so, each of them following her movement with bated-breath. I looked out to the crowd once before she called the name to see Ron and Harry smiling up at me proudly with Lavender fuming in the corner. For once I think this just might be a good thing. If Ron and Harry are happy for me then I can be happy for me too.

"Draco Malfoy!" Dumbledore exclaims, opening the piece of rolled-up parchment.

My heart drops and slides away back down to my seat beside Ron. I turn to Dumbledore and I wait for him to say something else crazy to prove that this is just a horrible nightmare I'm going to wake up from in a minute or two after I notice I'm in my underwear or something silly like that. But nothing changes.

"Pardon?" I stammer, scanning the isle of green to find his sickly pale face staring up at me incurious. His table erupts in laughter, everyone aware of the deep hatred between us. I look towards the teachers behind us hoping maybe one of them might stand up and suggest another go. It was a bad roll of the dice, maybe we should just start over. Dumbledore quickly silences the laughter at once, beckoning Malfoy forward. McGonagall places her hand on my shoulder and it's the closest I'm going to get to waking up from this nightmare.

I stare out searching for Harry and Ron's faces finding them staring back at me with an apologetic turn of the mouth. I try to calm myself as Malfoy reluctantly makes his way forward to the top of the hall. I can see his classmates slapping him on the backside as he dawns closer. My cheeks flush red as I think of the things he might see. What if I turn out really horrible and he uses it against me? What if my husband turns out to be someone in the year and he tells them? What if he knows something important like when I'll die and doesn't tell me as punishment for my blood status? After every insane thought under the sun crosses my mind I'm as calm as If I was flying.

"Mr Malfoy," Dumbledore says handing him the tiny green vile that contains my future. He rolls in between his fingers for a second before looking back at Dumbledore. He doesn't look at me but merely stares at the ground as if he would rather be anywhere else but here. I don't blame him. For once Malfoy and I actually have something in common.

"Let's get this over with already," he grunts, stepping down from the platform. The Slytherins cheer, charming fireworks and explosions, mostly slagging Malfoy.

"Very Well," Dumbledore smiles, leading Malfoy and myself away. He leads us down the centre of the middle aisle. As I pass Harry and Ron they reach out their hands and I touch them both as they smile at me. I brush their fingers with mine and their support makes me feel a little stronger. Lavender wears a sick smirk as I pass. I can hear the Slytherin chanting even after we leave the great hall.

Malfoy is silent as we walk to Dumbledore's office. Constantly he rolls the green vile in between his fingers, once or twice almost dropping it. I feel my fist clench at my waist. I want to hit him again. He is rolling around my life in his hands and he thinks it's a joke. I turn my head subtly to look at him to find he's looking away, out over the hills in the distance through the window. But we pass the window quickly and he looks down, back to my future in his hands. I briefly wonder what it feels like to touch it. Does it have a weight?

We stop outside Dumbledore's office before I know it. He looks down at me like my father would have at this moment before ushering me into a nearby classroom to wait. Malfoy doesn't look at me as I leave and it worries me more than anything. Just as McGonagall closed the classroom door I get a glimpse of Dumbledore's hand dropping onto Malfoy's shoulder in an unusual way.

I paced back and forth for what seemed like hours. Over analysing every possible outcome like I feel I do with everything. Will he use it against me? Why did Dumbledore touch him like that? What if I don't get married and live alone with 20 cats? What if all my studying was for nothing and I amount to nothing like Malfoy always suggested? Most of all I think how much of this will he use against me. It has been hyped up enough. It's all anyone's talked about since it was announced three weeks ago. My secrets will be painted across the school walls for everyone to see by noon tomorrow.

"Miss Granger, are you okay?" McGonagall asks to which I remember shes in the room. I quickly try to wet the floor of my mouth that has gone terribly dry since Dumbledore called my name.

"Yes," I say but it comes as more of a grunt. "I'm sorry I'm just a little worried given the circumstances," I admit. McGonagall seems to weigh this out in her head.

"I understand Miss Granger. I will admit they are a bit peculiar," she says twiddling her hands nervously.

"Miss, what do I do if he chooses to exploit this information," I ask shyly.

"Don't worry Miss Granger, I'm sure Dumbledore will explain to him the seriousness of this situation. Now please don't fret so much," McGonagall says, calming me a little bit.

The door suddenly creaks open and Malfoy half falls in. He stumbles slightly as if someone has pushed him. His face is a sickly pale – worse than usual - and my chest clenches. That good? I think. It must be if he's looking so sick with knowledge. I sigh and move towards him, leaning against a table near to him. I fix the end of my skirt as McGonagall excuses herself from the room with a gracious nod of her head.

Malfoy sits on top of one of the tables and kicks his heel back into the metal legs. I sigh.

"Come on then," I start because I refuse to sit in this awkward silence anymore.

"At least tell me a little before you go laughing about it with your friends," I say, folding my legs under the chair to stop them from shaking. Malfoy remains quiet with a distant look upon his face, his eyes searching far outside of this room.

"Come on Malfoy. I know you hate me but just tell me is it good or bad? You at least have that much in you?" I ask, sliding forward expectantly, trying to appeal to any part of him that is willing to see reason. He slides his hand through his long slightly greasy blonde hair and glares back at me. There are purple bags under each eye as he switches to stare at each pupil.

"What did you expect Granger huh?" He asks sarcastically. His face resetting to his normal sneer like some sort of machine that has frozen for a second.

"What do you mean? I didn't expect anything because I didn't even entertain the thought until Dumbledore called my name," I admit, annoyed. He laughs, running his hands through his hair again, It starts to stick up all over the place, unkempt.

"Well, what you expect now is only half of what you'll actually get. Don't look at me like that," He warns as I scowl at him.

"What does that even mean?" I shout. I hear movement outside the door and Malfoy notices it too, shifting on the table. I let my anger subside not wanting McGonagall or Dumbledore to storm in afraid we're at each other's throats.

"You know you're going to be happy," Malfoy finally admits after we've both visibly calmed down.

"You don't need me to tell you that." "In fact," he starts standing up from the table. "You don't need me at all so bloody remember that. There will be no friendship from this so stay away from me okay? You'll be happy. Lucky for you!" He says and bows sarcastically and with that Malfoy storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room is silent again.

"What do you mean he only said that?" Ron says loudly to which most of the Gryffindor table who were trying to eavesdrop heard. The turn to each other and whisper, staring at me over their shoulders.

"Shut up you idiot!" Ginny hushes, ramming Ron in the ribs with her elbow. Ron spits the chicken wing out across the table at Neville with the blow to the ribs.

"Sorry Mate," Ron laughs as Neville –with a sour face- removes the chicken from his hair.

"That's all he said," I sigh moving my peas around the plate.

"I'll fix his little red wagon so!" Ron exclaims throwing his tissue aside and standing up to find Malfoy nowhere in sight at the Slytherin table.

"I expected him to be easy to spot you know? Circles of people around him all laughing that sort of thing?" Ron states.

"Me too Ron," replied Harry.

"So where is he?" I ask, worry filling me up inside. Losing sight of Malfoy right now is not something that I need.

Draco Malfoy's Point of View.

I feel Dumbledore's grip on my shoulder and I exhale deeply. What is this oaf doing now?

"Sherbet Lemon," he says in his aged voice smiling down at me. I think of my father's voice and how different it sounds now to when I was a child. Doesn't Dumbledore know? Surely he must know what I've been chosen to do.

We enter the lift as it starts to elevate upwards.

"You know Mr Malfoy," he starts turning to me. "I've often admired you for your great talents and intellect. Often a little cocky and overwhelming naive and gullible but you have got a head between your two shoulders and no one can deny that." Dumbledore praises, clutching my shoulder more tightly. I awkwardly avert my eyes.

"Often in life when bad things happen we are presented with an opportunity. A pathway if you will." He says as he motions me off the stone staircase and towards the Pensive. It appears out of a hidden crack in the wall and glides effortlessly towards Dumbledore's desk. The vile feels like fire in my hand when Dumbledore reaches forward to take it, burning like acid as he drags it out of my clutch. My hand feels lighter once it's gone. He unscrews the top and drops the green liquid into the Pensieve.

"..and this Draco is your second pathway in life. I hope you chose wisely," he explains. Before I can ask what the hell he's talking about he pushes my head forward into the Pensieve and I begin to fall. Physically fall. I reach out to grab something but there's nothing but the feeling of the wind between my fingers.

I hit the ground painlessly on soft earth as if I hadn't just been free falling. It feels like sand and when I open my eyes I realize it is sand. I haven't felt sand in a long time. It has been years since my family has gone to the beach. I grip it in my hands but unfortunately, it falls quickly between the cracks. I go to gather another handful in aggravation when I hear a burst of familiar laughter coming from a house I hadn't noticed. I turn on my knee and stand up to get a better look at the house. It's large and wooden with a big front porch. This isn't England anymore. I can tell that much by the sun in the sky. It's somewhere hot, somewhere exotic. Somewhere I haven't been before.

My trail of thoughts is pulled back as I hear the laughter again. I stand up quickly and make my way towards it. Following the vibrations of the sound in my ear. Over a slight hill, I get a better view of the house and see the sea isn't far. In fact the house is on the beach. I stare out at the vast openness of the ocean to find two figures running in the sand, a man and a woman. They seem to be racing. The women trying desperately to catch up with the man who turns unexpectedly on his heel and catches the woman in his arms. They fall in a heap on the ground and the laughter gets louder before the image or vision I'm stuck in changes and shifts. I'm dropped somewhere else, losing the smell of the ocean.

Like a star just dropping out of the sky the new surroundings are overwhelming. I crawl forward on the wooden floor to find myself hitting into something. I look up to find an older Hermione smiling, staring across the room. She's holding a boy in her arms but she can't see me. The child looks about 3 or 4 with pale skin and blonde hair but he's got her eyes and that's when I realize it's her son. She's smiles and laughs as if someone's said something hilarious, tending to the child when he cries. I can't help but stare at her in amazement. She looks about 30 but she is still her. She is still exactly the same and it's hard to look at. I try to call out to her but she can't see or hear me. I turn my head to see who she's smiling at but the image drops again only to manifest me somewhere else in a different glimpse of her life. Her future.

It all moves rapidly through a secession of people, images and places. Everything that is her life as I stand trapped to watch it all. I see our graduation across the river and her eyes lit up by the floating lanterns over the lake. Hermione hanging her first payslip on the wall. Her hand dovetailed with another paler skin much like I remember her sons being. It shifts to her, Ron and Harry smiling and laughing in what looks to be an apartment. Harry is holding the younger Weasel while Ron is wrapped around a girl I don't recognize. The laughter filters through the next secession as I see Hermione, sweating and screaming as a man holds her hand as she looks to be in labour. I turn my eyes away feeling the situation is far too intimate. The image is gone again before I can see her husband's face.

The secession slows to a stop, centring in on a bedroom. The focus drifts to Hermione lying exposed in the bed. She's completely naked only shielded slightly by the thin duvet. Her skin is darker than it is now. She's again smiling across the bed at someone. But I can't help but look at her body. Slim, tan and ripened. She looks perfect and it sickens me. But that's when I hear it and I actually think I might vomit. A laugh. A laugh I recognise as clear as day. My laugh but it's not coming from my mouth. It's coming from the man on the bed with Hermione. She laughs back in response.

My heart stops as he leans forward to kiss her. He grips her naked body lifting her on top of him and she laughs down at him. I feel the heat rising in my glands. My wrist heats up and starts to swell in my robes. I drop to my knees beside the bed. Rolling almost under it in fear but I can't get away from this crazed nightmare. When will it be over? How do I make it stop?

I can hear my voice laughing. Why am I in her future? Why am I here with her? This must be some sort of joke. I can hear her sexual noises louder and quicker after mine. I can't think. I can't let myself think of anything. I can't let myself listen to her. But most of all I can't let myself think of how happy I looked. Like a completely different person. Not the person I see in the mirror now.

I feel the area beginning to vibrate around me and I know the focus is shifting again, granting me a brief respite from total neutrality I think. But instead a whole new secession begins again, but this time each image is one of us, together in her future and my heart feels hollow. I'm holding my son on the couch and he looks just like me. Hermione's twirling under a willow tree in a white dress and the colouring of it all is so bright it hurts my eyes. And then I see myself dressed in my robes and it's me that's pushing her down an empty corridor. It's me that's pushing her against the wall and kissing her. It's me that put my hand up her skirt. It's all me,-Everything. Every move that put me in her future is of my doing, My choice. And I hear Dumbledore in my ear, I hope you chose wisely

It all stops suddenly as if frozen and slowly the images and glimpses into her future begin to rewind slowly at the start but gaining momentum until we're back at the very start. I feel the sand of the seaside for a moment before it's black. I sigh deeply, glad it's finally over. But then it starts again showing me a different future of hers. There are quick flashes, somewhat similar to the ones I am present in but this time I am replaced by the weasel. There are no children and there is no house by the seaside from the looks of it. In fact, she is the age she is now in these glimpses. They flitter past quickly as I try to make sense of them as much as I can.

Suddenly my house appears as I drop into the glimpse, hitting the floor. When I stand up Bellatrix is there, standing over Hermione torturing her. My father and mother are present too. My mother averting her eyes wearing her lips in their usual pursed expression. But my father watches eagerly, hungrily. Beside him, I stand watching also. Hermione's screams die out as the life leaves her body and the blood drips out of the markings on her arm.

"She's finished," Bellatrix says nonchalantly as a house-elf comes to pull her body away out of sight.

Then when nothing is left of me I drift away from watching her lifeless eyes. We fade and I fall back into Dumbledore's Office. His cold hand is back on my steaming hot shoulder. I grip the Pensieve for support. Hotness rises from my stomach as I lean over the side and vomit copiously.

"What the fuck was that?" I shout, trying to keep my feet on the ground. I wipe the vomit off the side of my mouth and stare down at the mess on the floor, feeling the hotness rising again. I puke again.

"I would advise you not to use that kind of language with me, Mr Malfoy. You will show your headmaster some respect," Dumbledore scowls down at me.

"Respect!" I exclaim. "After what you've just put me through?"

"Is that- was that some sort of sick joke?" I ask, wiping the sweat off my forehead. Dumbledore hands me a glass of water and I gulp it down.

"Why was there two?" I ask.

"Two?" he responds.

"There was two! Two different versions of Granger's future." I explain.

"There was one-" I start but my voice grows weak.

"Go on, Mr Malfoy," Dumbledore says.

"There was one future that I was in – with her," I exclaim. He raises his eyebrow but something is off.

"The other one, it was really short and she was the same age she is now and then,-" my voice cuts off as I remember the life draining out of her eyes. Dumbledore stares at me expectantly. He has a look in his eyes that I can't place. Whether it's intrigue or knowledge.

"She died in the second one," I admit, staring at the floor unsure of how that makes me feel. It's different to hate someone and wish them dead and then see it. There is a line between them and now I have seen both sides. The future that I am not in she dies. The vile rises again in my throat but there is nothing left so I just dry heave against a wall.

Dumbledore places his hand on my shoulder and starts to lead me out of his office. Everything I have seen replays in my head as the stairs begin to move downwards. All that I have been asked to do from my family and from my master. Everything. He leads me back to the classroom. He opens the door and pushes me in.

"Make your choice Mr Malfoy. But remember your actions have consequences."