Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hermione had seen a lot of things in her life. She’d seen a wizard equivalent of Hitler, lived seven years in Hogwarts with ghosts floating around her head, seen wizard history unfold, flew on invisible horses, and watched divination be correct in a prophecy for the first time in history,  and seen her best friend die and proceed to kill wizard Hitler. (On that note, she started to wonder why she hadn’t heard of wizards and witches in World War II and other wars, but right now was off topic, but she did plan on researching this later).

In essence, her point was that she had seen a lot of things.

In fact, even time travel wasn’t new to her (though, to be fair, turning into a half cat creature wasn’t new to her either and she was quite certain that she hated that).

But she digressed.

The point was, a lot of things had happened during her lifetime, but this had to take the cake. At least, that was what she thought as she stood face to face with none other than Sirius Black, a man she had personally seen die several years back.

Perhaps she should start from the beginning.

-

It was a normal day, not too different from any other. Maybe thoughts like that should have tipped her off that today was going to be anything but typical.

She was in the office early, though that was a common occurrence, considering how hard she worked. She thought that, in the next few years, she had a real chance of becoming the Minister of Magic, which was everything she’d been working toward since the end of the war. To be fair, that had only been four years ago, but the ministry was not fairing well, considering the recent casualties and retirements.

Hermione was so lost in her thoughts that she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going, her mind focused on a recent case she’d taken on.

Hermione collided with someone and stumbled. She heard a muffled sound of shock in front of her, and she reached out instinctively to grab onto whoever she’d bumped.

The woman was facing away from her, which made it all the more embarrassing that Hermione had hit her, and would have struck the ground hard if Hermione hadn’t caught her.

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione said, pushing her wand into her pocket to free up her other hand, “I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.”

Hermione could feel the other woman tense when she spoke, her arms twitching while her back straightened in front of her.

There was a moment of silence and Hermione grew worried, taking a step closer to the mystery woman.

“Ma’am, are you-”

Before Hermione could finish, the woman turned around. The words died on her tongue, forgotten in their entirety.

The woman turned slowly, almost as if she was out of one of those romantic comedies Hermione had seen with her family. Her hair fell to the sides, parting to reveal her face. And, oh Merlin, her face…

Hermione hadn’t met Narcissa Malfoy many times, but she had to admit that she wasn’t entirely sure what her peers meant when they described her as cold or prissy. Whenever Hermione saw her, Narcissa’s gaze would be kind, her eyes alight with something Hermione couldn’t quite place.

To be honest, she hadn’t understood how she could have a son so dreadful as Draco until quite recently.

Once more, she was met with the soft expression she’d come to expect.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione breathed before she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I-”

Narcissa smiled and waved her apology off, tentatively setting a hand on Hermione’s arm.

“It’s no problem, Ms. Granger,” Hermione thought that Nacissa’s gaze drifted from meeting her eyes, but disregarded that as impossible. “And it’s Ms. Black again.”

Hermione took a moment to catch up with what she’d said.

“Oh… oh! My apologies.”

“You always have apologized too much, dear.”

Hermione hesitated at the words. It sounded so familiar, and for a moment she wondered if she was missing something.

“I’ve… been told that, yes.”

There was an awkward silence that fell between them, but Narcissa didn’t seem to mind, her gaze never slipping from Hermione, her hand still on her upper arm.

Hermione burned at the contact, and she felt as if her face was doing the same.

“What, uh,” she cleared her throat again and rubbed her neck with the hand Narcissa wasn’t slowly drifting toward, “what are you doing here?”

That came out ruder than she meant and she was about to correct herself, but Narcissa laughed quietly.

“I’m not exactly sure, actually,” Narcissa said, swaying back and forth slightly. Hermione watched her move.

Hermione frowned.

“I’m here to see someone,” Narcissa elaborated, “at least, I think so.”

“Do you need company?” Hermione wasn’t sure why she’d asked that.

Narcissa shook her head quickly, pulling her hand away. Hermione missed the contact.

“No, I’m sure you have more important things to attend to, Ms. Granger.”

“Hermione.”

Narcissa smiled slightly.

“Well, Hermioine,” he name rolled off her tongue almost reverently, as if she’d said it countless times before, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, but you have other things to attend to.”

Hermione nodded and coughed into her hand.

“Right, well…”

“Until next time.”

“Yeah,” Hermione breathed, “next time.”

Hermione walked quickly through the halls, her face flushed a dark shade of red. She wasn’t sure what had come over her, and she hoped desperately she hadn’t made a fool of herself.

Behind her, Narcissa watched her go before taking a seat in the bench behind her.

Nacissa let out a slow breath, her head tilting back to rest against the back of the bench.

-

Hermione was still distracted by the time she was actually supposed to be working, but she muscled through it.

A tapping on her window caused her to glance to the side, catching sight of a large black owl.

She waved her wand to allow the creature in, raising an eyebrow as she opened the letter clutched within its talons.

It was, predictably, from none other than Draco Malfoy.

If you forget this meeting, I will personally decimate your career.

Love, Draco~

Hermione rolled her eyes before she pulled her phone out of her robes.

Hermione: You’re aware that, unlike letters, texting is instantaneous, are you not?

Draco: Yes, but a text will not peck your eyes out if you do not respond.

Hermione ran her hand down the bird’s back, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione: I’m reasonably sure that Maxwell wouldn’t do that either.

Draco: Just tell me you remember the meeting.

Hermione: I’ll have you know that I have an impeccable memory.

Draco: Yes, that is, unless you’re distracted with magical creatures and their rights.

Hermione: Oh, how dare I have a momentary lapse in memory when confronted with infringement on basic civil rights.

Draco: Yes, yes, we get it, you’re a Saint. Just get down here.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved her phone back into her pocket. She held out her arm, allowing Maxwell to perch on her forearm as she headed down toward the Department of Mysteries.

She wasn’t sure what Draco’s insistence on her attendance at this meeting was about, considering it was nowhere within her field of expertise, but she was always willing to do anything for her friends.

As she stepped into the hall, Maxwell nuzzling against her neck, she found her gaze drawn to where she had last seen Narcissa.

The older witch was seated patiently on the bench she’d left her at, her eyes trailing Hermione diligently as she passed.

There was a question in her gaze, but Hermione didn’t know what it was.

She hurried past, the woman’s eyes on her feeling far too intense for comfort.

“Bloody finally,” Draco muttered as he caught sight of Hermione.

“Good to see you too, Draco.”

He rolled his eyes and stepped closer to her.

“This is serious, Granger.”

“You’re always serious, it’s part of your lack of charm.”

Draco gave her a level look, making Hermione pause. She was used to their playfully contentious friendship, but he seemed legitimately worried.

“What is it?”

“The department has gone bloody made is what it is!” he snapped.

“You always say that.”

“Yes, but this time it might get someone killed.”

Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket. Draco put his hand over hers, covering the weapon as a pair of unfamiliar workers neared.

Hermione was certain she’d never met the two, nor even seen them about, but that only served to solidify her opinion that they had to work in the Department of Mysteries. There was always something off about those workers, what with their sunken eyes and pale skin. They had the appearance of weasels, but Hermione knew they were more similar to snakes in the grass. The first worker, a man that towered over her with long, gangly limbs that stuck out awkwardly to either side of him. He sized up Hermione for a moment before giving Draco a smile that twitched at the edges as his eyes darted to where Hermione and Draco were touching. His smile was off center, the look of a man unused to smiling or perhaps even confused as to why one would, but he tried, if only to put Draco at ease.

It did anything but.

The second figure was a short woman, just a hair away from the height Hermione would expect from a goblin or similar creature. She had long, strongly black hair that juxtaposed her sickly pale skin and almost gray eyes. She didn’t offer the same smile to Draco that her coworker had, choosing instead to watch Hermione. She didn’t blink, at least not in normal intervals. Had she been in a wizarding hospital, Hermione would have assumed the woman was suffering from some mind-altering curse.

As it was, the woman seemed to be fully functional, at least in the intellectual department, when she greeted the pair.

“Draco,” the woman said.

He gave her a nod of greeting.

“Henrietta,” his gaze turned to the man, “Tristan.”

“I was under the impression you were the only one that was given permission to inspect the department,” the woman said. Hermione noticed that her voice had the raspy quality that only came from long intervals of silence.

Hermione glanced at Draco, trying to keep her expression neutral. He’d worked in department management for the last two years, Hermione and Harry having helped him get the job with glowing recommendations, but Hermione didn’t remember a time in which he had been sent to inspect this particular department.

“Due to rumors, the Department of Magical Creatures also wanted to send an inspector to make sure there are no creatures being mistreated in the facility.”

The lie rolled off of Draco’s tongue with such ease that, for only a moment, Hermione believed it to be true. She was silently in awe of Slytherins and their ability to spin lies as a seamstress would their fabric. As a Gryffindor, she was against lying as a practice, but as a person, she was privately impressed, something she kept tightly under wraps.

The two workers, Henrietta and Tristan, were silent for a moment, but they didn’t look at one another. Distantly, Hermione wondered if she should worry about them using legilimency, causing her to guard her thoughts to the best of her ability. She wasn’t the most practiced, nor skilled, in this variety of magic, but Hermione had read enough in her lifetime to be at least intermediate in most magical fields.

“Of course,” Henrietta finally said, “though there’s no cause for concern.”

Hermione gritted her teeth, knowing that the woman was lying. She’d seen the department once in her life, though that had been more than enough for her.

“Of course,” Draco said easily, pushing Hermione’s wand into the sleeve of her robe before pulling away.

Hermione had always wanted to have the chance to prove that the department was hiding a multitude of ethical violations within its depths, but had never gotten approval. Now, here she was, walking down the hall shoulder to shoulder with Draco being led to the department.

She glanced to Draco nervously, but he gave her a comforting smile and looked ahead.

“What is going on?” Hermione whispered.

Draco tapped his forehead and mouthed, “let me in.”

Hermione opened the gates to her mind, allowing Draco to take refuge in it.

What’s going on?

I have reason to believe that the department is planning something nefarious. Something to do with an ancient time turner.

Hermione froze. Draco grabbed her to keep walking.

Is this why your mother was here?

What?!

Did you not know?

What’s she doing here?!

You’re asking me like I know!

Draco pulled out of her mind and she could tell that he was panicking. She knew he was a bit of a momma’s boy, something she somewhat understood considering his mother seemed very kind, and was likely struggling with the news.

The trip to the department was short and filled with silence, Hermione reaching out to put a hand on her friend’s shoulder comfortingly. He gave her a look of gratitude for a moment before he schooled his features. She could see him compartmentalizing.

It wasn’t long before they had entered the department, and it was as dark as Hermione remembered.

She struggled to keep her calm as she was led through, horrific memories of the last time she’d been here passing through her mind. Distantly, she was glad that Harry wasn’t here to relive it all. Once had been too much for him.

The inspection passed quickly, Hermione almost completely sure that the department was hiding their atrocities from the pair, but skidded to a stop when they were only a few steps away from the exit.

Draco, and Hermione wasn’t sure if she was glad or terrified that he’d done this, had noticed that the had not gone into a dark door that blended almost completely into the dark surroundings.

Henrietta and Tristan both attempted to dissuade Draco from checking the room, but he had grabbed onto Hermione’s arm and dragged her toward the room with ease.

The next minute happened in a blur, and even playing it back in her mind, Hermione couldn’t tell anyone exactly what had transpired.

What she could say, however, was that the time turner, bloody hell did she hate those things, was insane, the creepy workers tackled Draco, Hermione hit the time turner when she flourished her wand, and then she and Draco were unconscious.

-

The next thing she knew, she was being rolled over onto her back and staring and the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.

Oh bloody-

Was she dead?! Was this an angel?!

This was not how Harry had described dying. But, oh well, it was far nicer to see this beautiful blond than her old headmaster (she preferred McGonagall anyways).

“Miss?” a soft voice asked.

“Cissa, what are you doing? Is everything alright?”

The voice that called was familiar, but in her current state Hermione couldn’t quite recognize it.

A moment later, a head appeared above the angel she had just met.

Sirius Black.

Great.

She was dead.

Chapter Text

Hermione had had a long day and, technically, the day hadn’t even started, considering she was beginning to suspect that she was no longer in a time that she would refer to as the present.

The main reason why she was so sure that she wasn’t dead is because Sirius was barely recognizable, considering he seemed to be far younger than she was used to seeing him. He appeared to be around her age, something that she’d only ever seen in faded pictures and awful paintings where Sirius would leave the portrait to get away from his family.

Now he was here, in all his young shaggy haired glory.

It was about at this point that Hermione started to recognize the sounds around her. There were a myriad of muttering voices in every given direction, and with a quick glance Hermione could tell that she was in a rather busy spot. All around her, there were people pushing and pulling along carts and bags. Hermione realized, quite suddenly, that they were in the middle of a train station. A very familiar one.

Before she could do more than gasp, the angelic woman she had seen a moment before reappeared, staring down at Hermione with an expression that was equal part worried and reserved.

“It’s not a little mud blood is it, Cissy?” a familiar voice called.

Hermione’s blood ran cold and she recoiled, reaching up her sleeve to get her wand.

Sirius shot a glare back behind his shoulder. Hermione followed his gaze and was met with none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. Or, perhaps, Bellatrix Black. Hermione wasn’t entirely sure when she was (bloody hell, she hated having to say that), so she supposed it could be either.

“Bella!” Sirius snapped.

The angelic form, presumably “Cissy,” didn’t look up, instead staring down at Hermione as if she was transfixed. Hermione met her gaze and, after a moment, the woman seemed to shake herself out of her shock.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

The voice was as familiar as Sirius’, but Hermione had trouble placing it. It sounded higher than she was used to, but the accent an lilt to the woman’s words were unmistakably memorable… that is, they would have been, had Hermione not been very in over her head and, understandably, distracted.

As it was, she wasn’t sure who the woman reminded her of.

“Uh,” Hermione coughed into her hand to buy herself some time, “yeah, just a little… discombobulated.”

The woman smiled slightly, raising her eyebrow before pulling her hand off of Hermione’s shoulder.

“Did you mess up apparating here?” Sirius, finished berating Bellatrix, asked.

Hermione jumped at the chance.

“Yes!” the woman, Cissy, kept staring at Hermione, which made her feel slightly nervous. “I mean, yes, I… got distracted.”

“I’m surprised you made it here in one piece then, muddy,” Bellatrix said.

“Bella, you don’t even know if she is yet,” another voice hissed.

Hermione thought she was seeing double for a moment when she caught sight of the woman taking. She seemed to be Bellatrix’s clone, but Hermione was able to rationalize that she must be Andromeda… or else it was worse than her being back in time or dead.

The angel, Cissy, rolled her eyes.

“I apologize for them,” she said before offering Hermione a small smile. “I’m glad you made it here safely.”

Now was not the time to get distracted by a pretty smile, Hermione. She didn’t even know what time it was, but it couldn’t be the right one.

“Well… thank you,” Hermione said, glancing around. She found that most people on the platform were staring at them, and she felt her face burn a little at the attention. She was about speak again, but her attention was caught as Cissy cut in.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before,” she twirled her hair around one finger as she stood, “are you enrolled?”

Sirius offered Hermione a hand up, scoffing at Cissy for not doing so for her, and Hermione took it thankfully, not sure if she could get herself up on her own.

“At Hogwarts?” Cissy nodded while Bellatrix stifled a laugh behind her. Hermione wanted to say she had weighed her options. She wanted to say that she had considered the pros and cons of each response… however, she also hated to lie. “Yes, I am. Seventh year.”

Hermione had never in her life been more thankful for her youthful face. Typically, she saw it as a negative, considering people assumed she was far younger than she was, but at least now it could save her from having to deal with the fallout of her idiotic lie.

Hermione honestly wasn’t entirely sure why she had said that she was a student. Maybe it was because she was still latching onto any familiar options she could. Perhaps it was because Hogwarts was still a home to her and probably always would be.

Cissy smiled at her, making Hermione hesitate. She didn’t know this woman, but she had the feeling that Cissy didn’t smile often. And from the look Andromeda gave her, she assumed that she had been right about her assessment.

“The same year as me,” Cissy said, “I wonder why I haven’t seen you around.”

There was a question in her words, though Hermione wasn’t sure what it was.

Hermione had her second stupid response to those beautiful blue eyes. Something about this, whether the situation or this strange woman, made her scatterbrained.

“That would be because I was home schooled until this year.”

“Home schooled?” Cissy asked slowly.

“Yes! Taught at home!”

Hermione couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this stupid. She also couldn’t remember the last time she’d wished she had the natural lying ability that all Slytherin students seemed to have.

“I wasn’t aware you could… home school students,” Andromeda said.

“Well, you can,” Hermione said. “Takes special permission from the ministry, though, what with the underage magical laws.”

Andromeda, Bellatrix, and Sirius all looked suspicious, but Cissy seemed to take her at her word.

Cissy smiled and was about to speak, but there was a loud crack that sounded to the left. Hermione spun, her wand in her hand immediately as she threw her arm out toward where Sirius and Cissy stood, attempting to protect them from whatever threat may have followed her back in time. She thought it would be best if she made sure that neither of them were hurt or killed, considering there would likely be a cascading affect throughout time.

In front of her, a blond form fell from the sky, slamming onto the ground.

Hermione immediately recognized Draco and hurried to his side, dropping to her knees to check on him.

Draco took a moment to come to.

“Hermione? What happened?”

She subtly tapped her forehead, thinking it best not to let her friend know out loud what had happened.

He scoured her mind quickly before his gaze shot to Sirius, Bellatrix, and Andromeda.

Hermione heard a shocked voice in her head.

Mom?!

Hermione whipped her head around, gaze landing on “Cissy.” She seemed to fit the description Draco had given her, considering what Hermione knew about Narcissa, but she was still struggling to believe that she could possibly be her friend’s mother. Something about this woman being Narcissa was more astounding than seeing Sirius or Bellatrix alive again. Maybe it was because Hermione had seen her present appearance so recently, or perhaps it was because of how unreserved she seemed.

Whenever Hermione had seen Narcissa, it seemed as if she was hiding something just beneath the surface. Like there was something on the top of her tongue she wanted to say but was always holding back. At first, Hermione had assumed it was her connection with the death eaters that caused this apprehensive appearance, but it had never gone after even years after the war.

This Narcissa, however, seemed unashamedly open to Hermione, looking down at her from where she stood.

“Am I to presume that this is your friend who also almost died on your trip here?” Bellatrix asked, crossing her arms as she looked down at Hermione.

“Yes, he is,” Hermione replied defensively.

Draco snapped himself out of his shock and nodded.

“Yes, we’re sorry for surprising you, we are just… unused to apparating too far away from our homes.”

Hermione was glad he had gotten her story from her mind, otherwise it was likely they would have contradicted one another.

“Are you two related?” Cissy - Narcissa - asked.

“No,” Hermione said at the same time Draco replied, “Absolutely not.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“We’re just family friends,” Draco added. Once again, Hermione admired his Slytherin abilities.

There was a harsh whistle from the train, and Hermione recognized it as a warning to any students that had yet to get on board.

Narcissa seemed a little surprised before she turned around and gave the pair a small smile.

“I look forward to seeing you at school…,” she hesitated, “I didn’t catch your names.”

“Hermione.”

“Draco.”

“Draco… that’s a nice name,” she said, making her son pale. “I’m Narcissa.”

Before the pair could respond, Narcissa was dragged away by her sisters, apparently to say goodbye.

Draco took the opportunity to latch onto Hermione, yanking her away from the group. When they’d reached a dark corner, he spoke.

“What is wrong with you?! Why did you say you were a student?!”

“I panicked!”

“The brightest witch of her age panicked at a simple question?!”

“There’s nothing simple about this, Draco!” she hissed.

Draco ran a hand down his face, rubbing at his nose.

“Alright. We need to get out of here.”

“Yes, but how do we get back to the future, short of waiting out the years?”

“I was taking about the train station, Granger.”

Hermione hesitated.

“Why?”

“Because I’d rather not mess up the chances of me being born!”

That was a fair point.

“Where do we go?”

“The Department of Mysteries?”

“They won’t have the time turner for years, Hermione.”

“Then where was it before?”

Hermione was about to respond before she felt a tap on her shoulder. She jumped, spinning around in shock, only to find-

“Narcissa?” she asked, shock evident in her voice. Draco was gaping at his mother over her shoulder.

Narcissa didn’t let the surprise dissuade her, smiling at the younger woman (older woman? Right now Hermione was older, she supposed, but in the grand scheme of things, that was certainly not the case… the math was very confusing on this one, and she would rather not get into it at the moment).

“I just wanted to let you know you dropped this,” Narcissa said, holding out her hand to reveal her phone. “I’m not quite sure what it is, but…”

“Thank you!” Hermione said, grabbing the device and shoving it into her pocket.

Narcissa said something, but Hermione didn’t hear her, too distracted by what she saw over her shoulder.

Perched right on the edge of the train, Hermione saw a familiar pocket watch.

Draco seemed to have noticed as well, having grabbed Hermione’s arm.

Narcissa cleared her throat slightly and Hermione jumped.

“I’m sorry, what did you say, Narcissa?” she asked, giving her a smile and hoping it would smooth things over. It seemed to, considering Narcissa matched her expression.

“I asked if you two would like to sit with me on the train.”

“Yes, of course,” Draco said, hardly paying attention as he headed toward the train, gaze locked on the time turner.

Hermione fell into step behind him, but she found that Narcissa was walking at her side as well. She didn’t look like she typically walked this fast, perhaps that was because of her high heels, but was keeping up with Hermione easily, glancing to the side at her.

Hermione felt slightly awkward as they walked abreast through the crowd, Draco having pulled ahead, but Narcissa seemed to be content. That is, until her family deemed it imperative to interrupt and wish the youngest of their members good luck.

Hermione slipped past and met Draco at the entrance, raising an eyebrow in question. He shook his head irritably.

“Bloody thing disappeared.”

“Are you sure a student didn’t get it?”

“Think so.”

Hermione rubbed her face.

“Looks like we’re going back to Hogwarts.”

Draco cursed.

Chapter Text

It had been a while since Hermione had been on the Hogwarts Express, or perhaps the correct terminology was that it would be a while until Hermione actually rode on the express once more, but either way it was exactly how she remembered. That is, other than the occupants of the train.

As it was, Hermione wasn’t sure if it was more awkward to be sitting on the train across from Draco, considering how antagonist their relationship had been the last time they were on this train, or the fact that she was situated beside a young Narcissa.

Hermione had pressed herself up against the window in order to stay as far as possible from Draco’s mother. She wasn’t sure if that was because she was uncomfortable to be sitting beside her or because Draco kept staring at Narcissa, which just made it even more awkward to have her leg pressed up against Narcissa’s.

They were all current out in a discussion about the school, and Narcissa hesitated to give Hermione a confused glance.

“How did you know about the whomping willow?” she asked. Draco glared at Hermione.

“I read about it.”

“I wasn’t aware there were any books that were updated enough to mention it. It is a new addition, after all.”

Hermione cursed internally.

“It was in an article, I believe. I don’t remember which one.”

Narcissa nodded slowly, but was distracted after a moment.

“Then I suppose you’ve read of the Houses, yes?”

Hermione nodded.

“I’ve touched on them.”

Narcissa nodded.

“Are you going to be sorted when we arrive?”

Not for the first time, Hermione regretted every decision she’d made that day.

“I believe so.”

“Which one do you suspect you’ll be in?”

“I’m… not sure.”

Draco coughed into his hand and gestured out of the compartment’s door. Hermione followed his gaze and her eyes widened when she caught sight of the same blasted time turner that had got them into this bloody mess.

Draco excused himself and Hermione went to follow, but the train lurched, causing Hermione to be thrown back into the seat practically on top of Narcissa. Narcissa let out a squawk of shock, grabbing onto Hermione’s shoulder to keep her in place before looking up and catching her gaze.

“Uh, my apologies, Ms. Black,” Hermione said. She felt herself flush a light shade of pink and, once again, told herself that now was not the time to get distracted by a pretty face.

No matter how pretty that face might be.

“It’s alright, Hermione,” there was a hesitation, “I see you know my family.”

Hermione pulled away, grimacing at her mistake.

“Even living under a rock, I was bound to have heard of the family.”

“All good things?” Narcissa asked.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond before laughing.

“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” she saw the woman’s lips tighten, “though I would say all good things about you.”

“You’ve heard of me?”

“I was talking about my first impression.”

Narcissa ducked her head, but Hermione could see there was a light smile on her face.

“Perhaps there really is something wrong with your head.”

Hermione wondered if there was, considering she had made no move to help Draco in his search and, more shockingly, had no intentions of doing so.

“I’d say I’m as mentally sound as I ever am.”

“And how much is that?”

“Less than people would assume.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“That’s the issue.”

Before Narcissa could respond, the door opened and Draco stepped in, looking rather irritated. He shot a quick glare at Hermione, but it was filled with a light of confusion. It was clear he wasn’t sure why she hadn’t come with him to look for the time turner, and she shrugged noncommittally in response.

He clearly didn’t have the time turner, Hermione mused, considering he wasn’t pestering her to leave immediately.

The rest of the trip to the school was uneventful, but Hermione was lost in her thoughts as they traveled.

Narcissa seemed quieter with Draco sitting with them, she wasn’t entirely sure why that was, and she had grabbed a book out of her bags to pass the time. Hermione distantly wished she had her own book, but she’d left all of her tomes and documents at home… and, she supposed, Draco would be very upset if he were to see her reading instead of keeping her eye out for the time turner as he was.

Draco had already attempted to track it down in a myriad of different ways, including an accio spell and trying to sneak through the different compartments to find it, but nothing had worked.

Hermione snuck a glance to the side to see what Narcissa was reading and had to stifle a gasp. Narcissa glanced up, raising an eyebrow as she looked at her.

“Sorry,” Hermione felt her face burn, “I just… love that book, it’s one of my favorites.”

Narcissa looked down at the hard cover of Hogwarts: A History.

“It is?”

Hermione nodded shyly, not noticing that Draco was staring across the compartment at the two of them, mouth agape.

Narcissa looked away and, for a moment, Hermione wondered if she had upset the younger woman before she caught sight of a small smile on her lips.

“It’s one of mine as well. Most people don’t like because it’s too…”

“Verbose?” Hermione offered with a grin.

Narcissa nodded enthusiastically.

“Exactly.”

“Well, I say that they don’t know how much they’re missing.”

“No, they know how much, just not what it is.”

Hermione covered her mouth as she laughed, about to respond, but, to Draco’s great delight, the train pulled to a stop, evidently having reached their destination.

“Are they going to send you up to the Sorting Hat with the little first years?” Narcissa asked, smirking and bumping her shoulder against Hermione’s. Hermione did a double take at the action, glancing over at Narcissa.

She seemed more playful than Hermione remembered, the hurt light in the back of her eyes notably missing. Hermione wondered what had caused that pain in her.

Wondered if there was a way she and Draco could stop it from happened. But she knew better than to mess with the past using a time turner. She’d saved a life that way once only to lose it two years later.

Still, her heart ached to see younger Narcissa so different from the one she was used to.

The only times she’d seen Narcissa full of life had been when she was with Draco, and she wondered what had created the hole in her heart.

“Well, I see no other way to determine our houses,” Draco said irritably.

“Is he always this moody?” Narcissa asked.

“Only when he’s not at home. He’s a bit of a momma’s boy.”

Draco sent her a scathing look, but Hermione just smirked.

Narcissa snickered.

“Did she coddle him too much?”

Draco growled and Hermione hesitated.

“No, not too much.”

Narcissa didn’t seem to understand why she had turned serious all of the sudden, but Draco seemed to relax slightly.

Draco was on the look out for any sign of the time turner, and Hermione distantly wondered if someone had taken it and already brought themself into another time period like they had.

Her fears were stalled, however, when she saw the time turner, as dusty and old as it had been the moment she set eyes on it, sitting on the ground a dozen feet ahead of them.

Hermione dashed ahead, leaving Narcissa to watch her go with a confused, and slightly disappointed, expression.

Draco followed after her, parting students without a care (Hermione shuddered to think of the butterfly effect this might have, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that, considering they had finally found the time turner, and she refused to lose it again).

Hermione was a logical person. She only believed in magic when she finally saw it in action, and she knew quite well what the limitations of the magical world were. That being said, she completely believed that this was not a regular time turner, but instead a Fabric Of The Universe Turner, considering it would randomly disappear from time to time with no sign or trace only to reappear a little ways away.

She followed it despite the impossibility of its movements, distantly wondering if it was possible that this was some sort of previously unheard of portkey.

Hermione threw herself to the ground, hand reaching forward in an attempt to grab the time turner before it rolled into the water. She did not, in any way shape or form, reach the time turner. In fact, as the time turner slipped into the depths of the lake, Hermione felt herself sliding forward as well.

She cursed and tried to skid to a stop, but before she could fall into the lake, a hand grabbed onto her ankle, stabilizing her.

Hermion whipped her head around, laying on her stomach in what could only be described as dense mud, to find none other than Narcissa Black staring back at her with raised eyebrow.

“Running off with no explanation and almost falling into a lake?” Narcissa helped her to her feet. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say Gryffindor.”

Hermione flushed and wiped off her robes hurriedly.

“I was tripped.”

“Over your own foolishness?” Narcissa asked, crossing her arms with a small smirk.

“I’d call it bravery.”

“And you’d be wrong.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled her wand out of her pocket, muttering a spell to clean her robe (if only so that Narcissa would stop doing that little smirk laugh thing that Hermione didn’t exactly enjoy).

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

“Hmm,” Narcissa tucked her arms behind her back and swayed side to side, “no, I much prefer winning.”

Hermione scoffed.

“Granger! There you are!” Draco cried, skidding to a stop when he caught sight of his friend, relief evident on his face.

“Relax, Draco, I wasn’t going to leave you here.”

Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed onto her hand, dragging her toward the school.

Narcissa let out a breath before following after, noticing that Hermione looked back at her to make sure that Narcissa was following them.

She wasn’t entirely sure who either of these two “home schooled” students were, but she had to admit they intrigued her in one way or another. Draco seemed familiar on a level that she couldn’t put her finger on, and Hermione?

Well, she was certainly a unique character.

“Sorry for the mud, by the way,” Hermione said, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Has anyone ever told you that you apologize too much?”

Hermione missed a step and almost fell, Narcissa watching her with a bemused expression.

“I, uh… yeah, I think I’ve heard that before.”

Draco tugged on Hermione’s wrist, causing her to almost trip.

“You let your boyfriend treat you like that?” Narcissa asked, her arms crossed once again.

Hermione glanced over at her.

“Boyfriend?” she scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

Narcissa filed that information away for later.

Hermione wondered why the younger girl was so silent on their trip to the school, though Draco didn’t seem to notice.

“Where was it last?” Draco whispered.

“The lake.”

“Bet you ten galleons it isn’t there when we check.”

“Why would I willingly make you even more filthy rich?”

“I’ll have you know that I bathe regularly, Granger.”

Their moment of respite was short lived, considering they suddenly remembered their web of lies, which they mow found themselves trapped in as surely as a fly would be.

“Excuse me,” Hermione recognized that voice, and for once it didn’t bring her comfort. “Who exactly are you two?”

Hermione turned and found herself face-to-face with none other than Professor McGonagall herself.

“The home schooled students,” Draco said with ease, his hand tightening on Hermione’s own.

McGonagall raised an unamused eyebrow.

“Home schooled?”

Hermione nodded quickly.

“Yes, we’re supposed to find Professor Dumbledore.”

McGonagall didn’t seem convinced, but Draco stood his ground, looking her in the eyes unblinkingly.

“Then I suppose we should find him, yes?”

“That would be the rational next step, yes,” Draco replied, eyes narrowing.

Hermione gulped and tried to become as invisible as possible.

“Come along then,” McGonagall said, walking briskly through the hall.

Draco followed and Hermione went to do so as well before she hesitated, turning back.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Narcissa nodded.

“I’d suppose so.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow before following after Draco, two eyes locked on her back.

Chapter Text

Hermione was not a great liar. In fact, she wouldn't even call herself a mediocre one. However, she happened to have a friend that was excellent at such things.

That being said, she was quite sure that even the world's most skilled liar—or, as Draco referred to it as, truth manipulator—couldn't convince Professor Dumbledore that he had spoken to and approved two families to send their seventh year students to Hogwarts after having been home schooled their entire lives.

Professor McGonagall seemed to have the same idea that Hermione did, considering she had on a small, slightly smug, smirk.

"Professor, you are aware that the opening sorting is starting soon, are you not?"

Dumbledore had the same sparkle to his eyes that Hermione remembered from her first few years at Hogwarts, but it seemed more real this time. His gaze hovered over Hermione and Draco for a moment before snapping back to the teacher.

"These 'students,'" although she did not stoop to the level of using air quotes, Hermione could hear the implication in her tone, "say that they are previously home schooled and were sent to speak with you."

"Thank you, Minerva, for bringing them to me. Would you mind giving us a minute?"

McGonagall seems shocked to say the least at the words, but did as requested, stepping out into the hall. The door swung shut behind her and clicked into place within the hinges.

"I was wondering when you two would arrive," Dumbledore said, eyes alight once again.

Hermione and Draco shared a look of shock.

"We arrived on the train like everyone else, Professor," Hermione said slowly.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, of course you did, Ms. Granger."

Hermione froze.

"I... how did you...?"

"I've heard that divination is not your subject of choice, however it does have some uses, does it not, Mr. Malfoy?"

"You would know better than I, Professor."

Hermione knew that Draco had been taken off guard, that much was clear from his deflection of the question, and she put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

Distantly, Hermione wondered how Dumbledore could still be five steps ahead of them after he died... before he died? Hermione still wasn't sure how she should refer to such things, but that wasn't the point.

Draco looked like he was going to choke on his own tongue, and Hermione realized this was his first time being blindsided by the old headmaster.

"Though I suppose those are conversations best left for tomorrow, yes?"

Hermione nodded quickly.

"For now, I think it's enough to know that you both received early access to the Sorting Hat, so as to limit your embarrassment as the only home schooled students entering seventh year, and are now going to sit with your fellow Slytherins. Don't you think?"

"Absolutely," Draco said. "Thank you for your help."

"Any time," Dumbledore said.

Hermione supposed be really did mean any time, considering the circumstances, and had to stop herself from laughing at her own joke.

-

Hermione had never liked attention, something that made her understand Harry’s discomfort at being the chosen one more than Ron ever had, and cringed whenever she found herself at the center of a room’s focus. This was the main reason why, when she and Draco stepped into the Great Hall, she found herself so disconcerted as countless eyes landed on the pair.

Hermione ducked her head and followed behind Draco sheepishly, distantly wondering whether she should worry about these students remembering them in the future. She decided not to think about that at the moment, considering it would only add one more thing to her already overflowing plate.

Draco tried to find a seat at the Slythin table, but Narcissa had made room already. Hermione noticed that the other woman seemed to be shocked to see joining Draco at the large table.

Hermione found herself seated between the mother and son, though she slightly wondered why she kept finding herself trapped between the two of them.

“I didn’t expect to see you on this side of the Hall, Hermione.”

Hermione schooled her features, trying not to show just how shocked she herself was.

“As am I,” Draco said, glancing around Hermione to see his mother.

He didn’t seem to know how Hermione had taken the seat sandwiched between the two blonds either, considering he gave her a quick look of confusion before turning back to Narcissa.

“Bravery and ambition are not mutually exclusive, I’ll have you know,” Hermione said.

“Yes, you’ve proven that time and time again, Granger,” Draco replied, though it was clear that he was on autopilot. He was far more focused on his detailed search of the hall, eyes seeking the time turner as if it were the snitch.

Dumbledore strolled through the doors and Hermione followed his form with her gaze. He met her eyes and gave her the same infuriating smile he always did.

It had been years since Hermione had last seen the man, and she’d certainly romanticized his knowing looks. Looking back, she could only remember how frustrated his reluctance to explain things to them was.

The man had always kept his cards close to the chest, it seemed, but Hermione certainly didn’t want to travel back further in time to verify this fact.

As he walked to the front, Hermione heard footsteps behind her. She spun, already on edge, and slid her wand down to her hand, though she tried to keep it out of sight.

She was met with a slim man that towered over Narcissa’s back. He looked down at her, one golden eyebrow raised as he took her in.

Narcissa followed Hermione’s gaze and her lips tightened when she saw who was behind her.

“Lucius,” she said curtly.

“Cissa,” the nickname flowed out of his mouth, but Narcissa reacted like it was sharp to the touch, “what a pleasure to see you. How was your break?”

“Better than this conversation, Malfoy,” she replied, looking away from the man so that she could check her nails.

Draco watched his parents interact with a mixture of awe and horror, wondering how he could have ever been born if this was how they spoke to one another.

Lucius laughed off her words, sliding into the seat beside Narcissa. Hermione frowned at the action, wondering why the man hadn’t taken the hint.

He sidled up to Narcissa, their shoulders bumping against one another.

Narcissa let out a “tsk” of distaste and moved closer to Hermione, who honestly thought it was the smart move. Obviously she knew that the two would be married at some point in the future, but at this point she was starting to wonder how Narcissa had ever let the man touch her, let alone propose.

Before Lucius could attempt to flirt with his future wife again, Dumbledore spoke, interrupting the loud hall.

Hermione tried to listen to the speech, she really did, but she was almost immediately distracted by Draco grabbing her arm and pointing across the hall right at the headmaster.

It took her a moment to figure out what he was trying to say, and when she did her heart stopped.

Dumbledore was an eccentric man, that was never something that was in question, his beard, as gray as the day she’d met him, was as intricate as she remembered, and the robes he wore were elegantly inelegant with their brilliant star patterns that went all the way down to his feet. Everything about the man was to be expected. He was a man that Hermione had always seen to be outside of the changes that time brought. He was above the twists and turns that life threw at him, something that Hermione had once regarded with respect.

That being said, there was one notable difference in his appearance from what she remembered.

Around his neck, there was a small chain that hung down like a necklace. On the end, there was what looked to be a pocket watch.

Her breath caught at the appearance, eyes going wide.

The time turner, which she had been starting to worry about never seeing again, was firmly settled against Dumbledore’s chest. Draco seemed to be just as shocked as she was, considering his mouth was agape and his grip on Hermione’s arm had tightened.

“Why is it always him?” Draco groaned.

“Because the unpredictability of the universe is best personified as a crazy old man that wears pajama robes and a hatred for telling the whole truth.”

Draco snorted and ran a hand down his face in frustrated.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I’ve been told that I typically am.”

-

Hermione had never been to the Slytherin common room. She’d heard about it, of course, from her friends, but the one time she had actually considered going had been dissuaded through an awful potion mistake.

Narcissa seemed to be more than happy to take the chance to give her and Draco a tour of the common room.

Hermione found herself enjoying the other woman’s company, grinning as she listened to her speak about the small library they had in the corner of the common room. Hermione could tell that Narcissa was excited, but the Slytherin was clearly trying to hide it behind a cold exterior.

Hermione wondered if she got better at that later in life. Wondered if she’d seen her do it.

Draco, even tactless, turned to his mother suddenly.

“Who was that man sitting beside you at dinner?”

Narcissa scoffed.

“I’d call him a rodent sooner than a man.”

“I wouldn’t readily insult rats. I’ve found that some can be very kind pets,” Hermione said.

Some. One in particular had certainly not been, but she didn’t like to think about him.

Draco scowled at Hermione, and she realized that perhaps now was not the best time for her to be insulting Draco’s father, considering he likely still wanted to be born.

Narcissa, however, laughed at the comment, glancing to the side at Hermione with a small smile.

“You’re right, my apologies.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you apologize,” Hermione said before she could think. She cursed internally, trying desperately to ignore the fact that Draco was burning a hole in the back of her head.

“Well, you don’t know me that well yet, do you?”

“I suppose not. Maybe I should fix that.”

Narcissa smiled and turned away, guiding the two “new students” through the rest of the common room. As soon as she had finished, Draco grabbed onto Hermione and dragged her away with a muttered excuse that Narcissa couldn’t hear.

Hermione stumbled as he led her away, tripping over her own feet.

It seemed as if she was not exceedingly coordinated as of late.

“Granger,” Draco growled, “what was that?!”

“What was what?”

“You know what I’m talking about!”

“If I did I wouldn’t have asked you what you meant!” Hermione snapped.

“I’m referring to your conversation with my mother! What were you doing?!”

“I’m sorry I insulted your father, Draco, it was a force of habit.”

Draco gaped at her.

“That’s not what I was referring to.”

Hermione frowned and tried to prod further, but Draco just groaned, rubbing his hand down his face.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing, Granger,” Draco seemed to be gritting his teeth, “I suppose I just… overreacted.”

Hermione put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

“It’s been a long day.”

Draco groaned and leaned against the wall.

“Shut up,” he said, though she could hear the playfulness in his tone.

“I believe you know how impossible it is for me to do that.”

He smacked her arm.

-

Narcissa wasn’t exactly sure what to think about these new students. They were odd, that much was evident, and seemed to have some sort of issue with social situations.

Despite that, they seemed to be rather charming in her opinion. Especially Hermione, what with her idealistic her easily distracted persona.

Draco?

He was certainly interesting.

He reminded her of herself in many ways, though most of these traits weren’t things she was always proud of. Still, it was a sort of confusing comfort to see someone so familiar yet unknown, so similar yet different to herself.

Chapter Text

Hermione still didn’t  know how she’d ended up here.

She remembered Draco dragging her toward the headmaster’s office, but to be honest she was still focused on trying to decide why on earth the past version of their dead headmaster had the time turner that had brought them here.

“Professor Dumbledore, with all due respect, I don’t think you know exactly what’s going on,” Draco said, hands crossed in front of him.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m quite sure that I’m of what’s happening.”

Draco crossed his arms.

“Then what is going on?”

“You and Ms. Granger are back from the future, you graduated four years ago for you and, presumably, defeated the Dark Lord then.”

Draco’s arms fell to his sides.

“Am I correct?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes…”

“Then why are we here?” Hermione asked. “And why do you have the time turner?”

“The chosen one gave the world a grand gift, Ms. Granger. Perhaps the world wishes to give him one as well.”

“That makes no sense,” Draco growled, sounding oddly defensive. “What does he have to do with this?”

“Not every prophecy has to end in sacrifice,” Dumbledore said.

Hermione distantly wondered if he was attempting to win a contest to be the vaguest old man without dementia.

“Dumbledore-”

Hermione reached out and put her hand over Draco’s mouth.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?” Hermione asked.

“That remains to be seen. As of now, I believe that it would be best if you returned to the common room.”

-

“He’s just going to leave us here?!” Draco snapped, stalking back and forth in the hallways.

Hermione was glad she had a muffling charm in place.

Draco stopped for a moment.

“Do you think we’d be able to disarm him and take the time turner?”

“Draco, I’m not letting you disarm Dumbledore again.”

“You always bring that up.”

Hermione sighed.

“Draco.”

“Fine! What do we do?”

“I suppose we humor him.”

“I thought we were not to bend to the whims of a terrorist.”

“I wouldn’t call him that.”

“Well I’m terrorized.”

“That’s not what that means.”

Draco groaned.

“How are we going to survive this?”

“I believe that we should figure out a cover story.”

“Leave that to me, Granger. You’re a horrible liar.”

-

“Alright. What’s my name again?” Draco asked pointedly.

“Draco Shitly.”

“HERMIONE!”

Hermione snickered.

“You don’t have to take my name, Draco.”

“I’m one joke away from marching up those stairs and taking the time turner myself.”

Hermione sighed.

“I’m sorry, Draco Saltly.”

“That’s what I thought.”

-

Narcissa heard the door swing open and she looked up, eyes landing on Hermione and Draco as they reentered the common room.

She wanted to greet them, but also loathed the idea of seeming desperate.

Narcissa, since she was young, had always spent the majority of her time around her family. But now, as she was the youngest of her siblings as well as her cousins, she was the only one to have not graduated Hogwarts. That meant that she was, for the first time in her life, all alone. She wasn’t used to not having her family with her.

She had thought about trying to make friends this year, but it seems that everyone and their pets knew about the Black family and it’s… rather distasteful reputation.

These two, however, seemed to be neither intimidated of her nor desperate to grovel at her feet.

It was a welcome change, though she was rather nervous. She had never had… friends before, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to interact with them. On the plus side, it seemed that Hermione and Draco were both exceedingly awkward, which meant that they might not notice how odd her attempts to befriend them were.

Hermione looked over at Narcissa, and she attempted not to preen under the attention.

Draco frowned and glanced between Hermione and his mother. Earlier, he had thought that the two were… but that had just been a silly thought he’d let in. It couldn’t be true.

He shook his head and stalked toward Narcissa, though not particularly because he wanted to do so. It seemed that Hermione was already leading him there, and he’d rather not get separated from her at the moment.

Especially when she was that close to his mother. Draco much preferred being born to not (although, to be fair, there was a point in his life where that would not have been true, but Draco was glad to have surpassed that phase), and for some reason it seemed that Hermione being around made it difficult for Draco’s parents to connect.

Hermione didn’t seem to notice his worries and took a seat beside Narcissa on the couch she was on.

“Sorry for cutting the tour short, Narcissa. My friend needed some assistance.”

“Perhaps I was wrong.”

Hermione frowned.

“About?”

“I said you should be in Gryffindor. Clearly you’re more of the Hufflepuff variety.”

Hermione scoffed.

“Yes, how dare I help a friend. How un-Slytherin of me.”

Narcissa smirked.

“Precisely.”

“I’ll have to remember that next time you need help, Narcissa.”

Narcissa hesitated, and Hermione wondered if she’d gone too far. Instead, Narcissa ducked her head like she always did before she smiled. Hermione thought it was charming, though she wondered where the thought had come from.

“Perhaps I was too hasty.”

Hermione turned smug.

“That’s what I thought.”

Draco shot them a look, raising an eyebrow. Was he crazy or…?

-

As the night came to a close, Hermione was led up to the dormitories by Narcissa, Draco watching them go before trudging up behind Lucius to his bed.

Hermione was surprised to find that there was a large case of luggage beside the bed she presumed to be hers. She guessed that Dumbledore was the one to have given her the necessities.

As Hermione curled up in her bed, eyes falling closed down she began to wonder if she would wake up in the morning and find that she had fallen asleep at her desk again and that all of this was just a bad, albeit extravagant, dream that she had had during her slumber.

-

When Hermione awoke, she was almost instantaneously disappointed, as she found herself surrounded by green coverings.

Yep. She was in Hogwarts.

The coverings were pulled back, and she was met by none other than young Narcissa.

She was still as beautiful as when Hermione had first seen her yesterday, and she was starting to realize that the older version of Narcissa was much the same.

She shook her head and pretended that she was still struggling to wake up.

“Morning, Narissa.”

“Hardly.”

Hermione frowned and pushed herself out of bed, misjudging how close that would put her to the other woman. They ended up less than six inches apart, and Narcissa looked down before taking a step back to give her space.

“What?”

“It’s nearly time for classes to start. I suppose that home schooled hours are more flexible.”

Hermione took a moment to remember their fake story before she nodded eagerly.

“Yes, it does. Thank you for waking me.”

Narcissa nodded and turned around to hide a smile. Something about Hermione’s open demeanor melted her cold exterior, making her feel as if she was lain bare in front of her.

She couldn’t decide whether she was appalled or enthralled by it.

“Well I can’t very well weather our peers without someone to insult them with.”

Hermione laughed quietly behind her, hurrying to get changed and follow her into the common room.

When she reaches the first floor, she starts to jog after Narcissa, but stops when Draco appears in her line of sight.

He glared at Hermione, eyes narrowing to slits like a snake. Hermione raised an eyebrow and stopped by him, falling into step by his side.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Hermione said.

“Yes, and someone woke up on the right side of one, apparently,” Draco muttered, watching as Narcissa leaned against the wall of the dungeon, waiting for the two of them to join her.

Hermione didn’t seem to notice Narcissa’s expression, but Draco did. Narcissa had always been withdrawn when it came to expressing her emotions, but right now she looked… vulnerable.

She was staring at her nails, seeming to examine them, but out of the corner of her eyes she was watching the two approach.

Draco found it disconcerting to see his mother acting so open. He’d always seen her as a pinnacle of humanity, someone who couldn’t, wouldn’t, falter. But now here she was, acting like a regular school girl. A regular woman.

Hermione smiled as she met up with Narcissa.

Narcissa seemed to relax as she walked with them, putting Hermione in between the two of them once again.

As they stepped into the hall, there were hurried footsteps behind them.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, already reaching for her wand. Perhaps she should try to kill that habit, but since the war it had been ingrained.

The person coming up behind them was none other than Lucius Malfoy, who stopped beside Narcissa with an easy grin.

Before he could say anything, Hermione picked up that Narcissa wanted nothing to do with him. She picked up her pace and turned toward the Great Hall for breakfast.

As they sat down, trying to eat quickly so as to not be late to their classes. Their schedules were passed out then, and Hermione glanced at her own.

She’d already taken these classes, of course, but she found herself rather excited to retake the classes. She knew it was “nerdy” as others (Draco) would say, and she couldn’t deny it.

Narcissa looked to the side at her schedule and there was a slight smile as she compared them.

Hermione turned and followed her gaze.

It seemed that they shared most of their classes, though that excluded the first one of the week.

Narcissa’s class started earlier than Hermione’s, and Hermione was distantly surprised to see how many classes that Narcissa had taken. And Hermione had thought she was the only one crazy enough to do that to herself.

“You’re taking divination?” Hermione found herself asking.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.”

Hermione scoffed.

“Do you have something against divination, Ms. Granger?”

“No, no,” Hermione waved her hand, “I adore creative writing classes.”

Narcissa scoffs.

“Are you always this judgmental?”

“I’m a Slytherin, and I suppose I should act like it,” Hermione said.

“I still believe there was a mistake with the Sorting, Gryffindor.”

Hermione scoffed as Narcissa left, casting a look over her shoulder at the pair.

Draco didn’t seem to appreciate the exchange in the slightest.

-

"Do you ever wonder if life is just seeing how far it can push us before one of us snaps?" Draco asked, stalking down the hall. Hermione followed behind him, rolling her eyes. They both had a half hour before their first class of the day started, and Draco seemed intent to make the most of it.

"No."

"Care to let me in on your secret?"

"If life were trying to make a comedy out of us, it would have had a believable premise."

Draco snorted.

"What, time traveling back with a strange time turner and seeing the younger version of my mother isn't realistic enough for you?"

"The fact that your mother is tolerable just makes it too crazy," Hermione said, shaking her head.

Draco scowled at her.

"Granger, if you insult my mother one more time, I will be forced to resort to violence."

"I don't think you want to get punched again."

Draco grimaced.

"I thought we agreed to never mention that again."

"You agreed. I, however, never said anything of the like."

Draco pulled to a stop suddenly, stopping Hermione and putting her to the side.

"What are you doing, Draco?" she asked, tapping her foot against the ground.

"I'm requiring things."

He turned back around, pacing past for the second time.

"Requiring what? A time turner?"

“No!”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know! Maybe the room will know!”

“That’s very constructive.”

“Do you have any better ideas?!”

Hermione was silent.

“Stupid old man,” Draco muttered, pacing back again. “Won’t give us the bloody thing…”

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder to stop him from walking any further.

“Draco, what is it?”

He sighed, running a hand through his typically oh-so-perfect blond hair.

“I need your help.”

“To get back to the present, I know.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant. I mean… I need you to help my parents. I mean, you’ve seen them.”

Hermione nodded.

“If they don’t get together…”

Hermione squeezed his shoulder.

“I promise I’ll make sure of it,” she said. “Now how about you skip your first class and get some rest in the room?”

She could tell he hadn’t slept.

Draco was reluctant, but Hermione pushed him through the door, promising to get him after their first class was over.

It seemed like Hermione was making a lot of promises she wasn’t sure how to keep recently.

Chapter Text

Hermione was, and had always been, bad with emotions. It was difficult for her to understand why people think the way they do. She preferred hard data and science, but human thoughts and feelings, including her own, were subject to change with little to no warning.

The reason she was thinking about that because because of the promise she had made to her friend.

She was, as previously stated, terrible with emotions, and yet her friend had picked her to attempt to set up his parents.

It would be one thing if Draco's parents were already in love, or ever were, but it seemed that Lucius was at the very most obsessed with Narcissa, who... well, in her opinion, hated his guts.

Hermione didn't know if the two ever grew to love one another, considering how little Narcissa seemed to care when she told Hermione that she was single again. I'm fact, she had actually appeared to be enthused to let Hermione know that she was, once again, on the market.

However, it didn't seem to matter whether the two ever loved one another.

Hermione would get them together not just because of her promise because, as ridiculous as it may seem, she truly did care for Draco more than she had ever expected to.

Hermione wondered if she should ask Draco how his parents had gotten together, or at least the story that they told him, but decided that it might be better not to know because it was likely that she might lose her mind if it changed because of their intervention.

Hermione took a seat in her second class of the day, recently having awoken Draco so that he could go to his own, beside Narcissa.

She glanced to the side at Hermione before looking at the front. Hermione wondered distantly if she was better at potions than Draco was.

It was two minutes into class that she suddenly realized that, perhaps, she shouldn't have taken the seat beside Narcissa, considering Lucius gave her a dirty look.

Hermione berated herself silently, wondering how she had let herself get distracted from her main purpose.

The teacher, Hermione found that she didn't know his name and didn't care to find out, cleared his throat to get the attention of the class.

"Please get into pairs. These will be your partners for the next semester."

Narcissa turned to Hermione, skillfully hiding her nervousness, and raised an eyebrow. Hermione was about to speak, but another figure appeared so quickly that Hermione would have suspected he had apparated, had that not been impossible within the walls of Hogwarts.

"Hello, Cissa," Lucius said. His voice was as smooth as ever as he slid beside Narcissa.

"Malfoy."

Hermione subtly stood up and freed the chair beside Narcissa.

Lucius slithered to the side as if intending to take it.

Narcissa's eyes narrowed.

"Perhaps we could partner up? Discuss that contract your parents are so intent on making with my family."

Narcissa gritted her teeth and her gaze flashed to Hermione.

Hermione might not have been good with emotions and the like, but she knew subtleties like that when she heard them. She didn't like the implications there, and they made her want to stop the two from pairing up.

She wasn't sure when it had happened, but she found herself protective of Narcissa. Perhaps it was because of her connection to Draco, or maybe it was because Hermione had never once had a bad interaction with the woman (especially her younger version, who seemed quite friendly).

"I'm afraid that Ms. Granger is already my partner," Narcissa said. Hermione could see the slight nervousness in the woman's eyes, and she found herself nodding before she could think about it. Her promise was not forgotten, just temporarily deemed a secondary priority.

Lucius narrowed his eyes and glanced between the two women.

"I'm sorry," Hermione put on her best fake smile, "had I known you wished to be her partner, I wouldn't have asked her."

Hermione couldn't tell if he believed her, but she took the seat beside Narcissa with a small smirk on her lips.

Narcissa seemed appreciative of her decision, considering she made room for Hermione as well as the three books she had taken with her (Hermione knew that was too many considering the priorities she had set up for this adventure, but old habits died hard and she just didn't feel right traveling through these halls without at least a few tomes in her arms).

Lucius seemed as if he was going to attempt to dissuade, or intimidate, Hermione, but the professor spoke.

"Ah, right! Mr. Malfoy, very good thinking! There's an odd amount of students, you're more than welcome to join the pair."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed and she scowled as Lucius summoned a chair from the other side of the room, setting it beside Narcissa's.

"

Hermione moved her books into her bag and set up her desk in an organized manner. Narcissa moved her chair closer to make room for their third member, but Hermione knew that it was more so that she was further away from her future husband.

At the memory of Narcissa's future, Hermione looked away from the other woman. She was trying to remind herself that she and Narcissa were not really friends. Or, at least, they were not school-aged friends. Hermione had already graduated and yet hadn't been born. She wasn't supposed to be Narcissa's friend right now, she was supposed to be Draco's. She knew what had to happen.

Despite that very convincing internal monologue, Hermione found herself arguing that Narcissa was, in fact, her friend. She distantly wondered if the other woman would remember this in the future before dismissing the thought. That was ridiculous. Of course she wouldn't remember this, or else she would have spoken to her son about it... perhaps even mentioned it to Hermione.

For reasons unexplained, Hermione was disappointed that the other woman wouldn't remember their time spent together here.

Draco had been Hermione's first friend that was a Slytherin, and she realized that, should they not be lured to the wrong side, they were quite fun to be around.

Hermione found that Narcissa was not an exception.

It wasn't long before they had started to work on the day's potion, which happened to be a poly juice potion.

Hermione did not appreciate working on one of those.

Narcissa seemed to notice and leaned away from their other partner to whisper in her ear.

"Is something wrong with the potion?"

Hermione shook her head, blushing slightly.

"No.”

Narcissa gave her a level look.

“I just… had a bad experience with one of these before.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow, silently prompting her to continue. Hermione sighed.

“It’s true what they say. You should be careful not to use animal hair instead of human.”

Narcissa was silent for thirty seconds, and Hermione thought that it was a valiant attempt at not laughing, but she broke.

Hermione flushed and ducked her head, trying to hide behind her hair, but it didn’t work entirely (she distantly cursed herself for taking better care of it as of late, considering it made it harder to hide behind).

“What animal was it?” Narcissa asked, giggling.

Hermione was surprised to hear the woman giggling, and even more surprised to find that she found it oddly endearing.

“A cat,” she muttered.

Narcissa had on an insufferable smirk, and Hermione found herself quiet laugh of her own.

“You can’t leave it there.”

Hermione groaned.

“There was so much fur. And the ears were always getting in my bloody way.”

“Tell me there were whiskers.”

Hermione nodded.

“That’s adorable,” Narcissa said.

Hermione found her face burning at the comment and she ducked her head over the cauldron, trying not to think about the words. She knew that Narcissa was just talking about the whiskers, obviously, but she couldn’t remember the last time a beautiful woman had called her adorable…

Narcissa was looking away as well, cursing herself for saying such a thing. She wasn’t even entirely certain why she had said that, but she was glad that Hermione didn’t seem to have thought the comment out of line. And it wasn’t.

Girls complimented their friends all the time, did they not? So there was nothing weird about her finding the mental image of her friend insanely adorable.

There was a long, perhaps slightly awkward, silence between the two girls.

“Don’t even get me started on the tail,” Hermione muttered.

Narcissa lost it at the comment and had to look away from Hermione as she laughed, attempting to not let anyone see just how amused she was.

Hermione was chuckling as well, rolling her eyes at Narcissa’s response.

Neither of them seemed to notice Lucius’ frustration at Hermione having Narcissa’s full attention throughout the class. To be honest, Hermione had forgotten that she wasn’t supposed to be having fun here. There was just something about Narcissa that made her forget all about her responsibilities, all about her worries.

As the class came to an end, Narcissa turned to Hermione and raised an eyebrow.

“Would you prefer dog hair this time, or perhaps lion would be best, Ms. Gryffindor.”

Hermione scowled before she scoffed.

“Perhaps you’d like that, considering how you felt about the whiskers, hmm?” Hermione teased.

Narcissa flushed and busied herself with preparing a vial of their potion to turn in so that Hermione wouldn’t see her face. Her hair hung down to cover her red face.

“Yes, who wouldn’t want to see a poly juice mess up?”

With that, Narcissa carried the vial up to turn in, leaving a smug-looking Hermione and an irritable Lucius.

“Ms. Granger, how many galleons would it take for you to leave Narcissa alone?”

Hermione couldn’t help but gape at the words.

“Well?” he prompted.

“More than you could afford, Mr. Malfoy.”

He scowled at her and Hermione grabbed her bag, glad that Narcissa had returned and she no longer had to to face the man on her own. It wasn’t that he scared her, but the idea that he might inspire her to attack him and cause Draco to never be born was a horrific thought.

She knew that was a bit excessive, considering she typically had good control of her anger, but Malfoy men were known for making her want to punch them.

“I apologize for Lucius,” Narcissa said as they walked through the hall.

Hermione glanced at her, frowning.

“It’s quite all right, Narcissa. He seems,” Hermione struggled to find something to say that wasn’t too negative, “very taken with you.”

“Not with me,” Hermione glanced at her, prompting her to continue, “with my family. The Blacks are… a family that many wish to have a connection with.”

“And he’s one of them?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, though with the notable exception that my family encourages his advances.”

Hermione was starting to realize how they had gotten married.

She hesitantly reached out and set her hand on Narcissa’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.

Narcissa barely stopped herself from jumping at the contact. Hermione’s hand was warm, warmer than she thought someone could be, and she felt the heat radiating down her arm.

“I’m sorry, Narcissa. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

Hermione was telling the truth, but she knew there wasn’t a way. Narcissa’s future was set in stone, it had to be. No matter how badly Hermione wanted it to change, Narcissa had to marry Lucius and have Draco.

Her only consolation was that she knew how deeply Narcissa cared for her son.

“Cissa.”

Hermione frowned.

“You can call me Cissa… or Cissy, if you want.”

Hermione found herself smiling before she nodded.

Narcissa wondered if she’d been too awkward, if her nerves had carried over, but Hermione didn’t seem to mind.

For once in her life, she didn’t feel as if her future was set. Like if she had Hermione at her side, she wouldn’t be trapped.

Chapter Text

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to distract herself from the morose thoughts that were haunting her.

Lucius had taken a seat on the edge of Narcissa’s chair, and she scowled at the proximity. Hermione went to make room on the couch for Narcissa, but she saw Draco striding into the common room. Hermione made sure to keep her place, though the closeness between Narcissa and Lucius made her feel slightly nauseous. She didn’t like the man’s intentions with Narcissa. She really did deserve better than him, but Draco was right. He needed to be born, and she didn’t want to live in the world where he wasn’t just because she was making friends with Narcissa Black of all people.

Draco took the rest of the room on the couch, clearly having noticed that his mother seemed to be considering claiming the space, and Hermione let him put his head on her lap so that all of the couch was taken up by his legs.

Narcissa’s lips tightened and she glanced between Hermione and Lucius.

“Gryffindor?” she called.

Hermione looked up at the nickname, raising an eyebrow.

“Would you mind if I borrowed your copy of the potions textbook?” she asked.

Hermione passed it to her, their fingers brushing slightly, and Lucius frowned.

“Gryffindor?”

“It’s a nickname,” Hermione muttered, trying to be civil after her mistake earlier of insulting him.

“And none of your business,” Narcissa said, her voice dripping in venom.

Draco inhaled sharply, and Hermione placed her hand on his head in a calming manner. She didn’t notice that Narcissa followed the gesture closely with her eyes.

“Nickname?” Draco muttered.

He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Hermione being friends with his mother, let alone ones that are close enough to give one another nicknames.

Hermione smacked his forehead to silence him.

“Oh, Gryffindor, did you see this bit?” Narcissa leaned over the edge of the couch, invading Hermione’s personal space quite profusely, and showed her the textbook.

Hermione took a moment to realize Narcissa was pointing at something, and she glanced down at the textbook.

Narcissa had her finger right below the caution on poly juice potions to not use animal hair.

Hermione scowled.

“It was one time,” Hermione said.

Narcissa laughed again, trying to keep herself from giggling.

Inside jokes? When did they get to that?! Draco thought.

“It’s not that funny, Cissy!” Hermione said, though Narcissa kept laughing.

Cissy?! Draco thought.

“It kind of is,” Narcissa replied.

“Wait, what?” Draco asked, trying to look at the textbook.

Hermione covered it with her hand, inadvertently grabbing Narcissa’s in her own.

Narcissa glanced down at where the two of them were touching. Draco did as well.

“It’s nothing, Draco.”

Draco didn’t think it was nothing.

-

Lucius scowled as he watched Narcissa and this “Hermione” girl. He thought that, for once, Narcissa was right. Hermione did seem as if she was a Gryffindor rather than a Slytherin. He had heard of the sorting hat putting people in different houses because they asked, and she was likely one of those cases. Perhaps she had asked to join the same house as her friend, Draco… or Narcissa.

He didn’t like her. Not one bit.

This year was supposed to be the year where he wore Narcissa down and finally got her to agree to being with him. It was the perfect year. All of her family was finally out of the picture, meaning that he would be able to finally spend some time with the youngest Black daughter. Instead, she seemed to have found herself a friend that she was using as a buffer between them, which he did not like at all.

The woman was a pain, and he would have suspected her to have been a Muggleborn had she not said she was home schooled for the majority of her education.

He excused himself after a while of being relegated to the third (or perhaps fourth, considering Draco was there as well) wheel.

-

Narcissa let out a sigh of relief as Lucius left.

“He might be the most insufferable man I have ever met,” she muttered.

Draco stiffened and looked away.

Hermione scoffed.

“Please, he’s hardly that bad.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow.

“In comparison to what?”

“A basilisk,” Hermione replied instantly. “Nasty little buggers, those are.”

Narcissa stared at her.

“A basilisk?!”

“Of course!” Hermione said.

“I’m not so sure, have you met a basilisk?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Narcissa stared at her.

“Yes, that’s why I asked.”

“Oh, well in that case, I’ve definitely seen a basilisk in my day,” Draco stared at her. “Paralysis is not fun.”

Narcissa laughed like it had been a joke, and Hermione was glad that she didn’t believe her.

Draco scowled at his friend, wondering why she was being so risky with what she told Narcissa. Hermione herself was a bit surprised that she had told her that as well, but she was glad that it didn’t seem to have given them away.

“Well, he paralyzes me with disgust, if that counts.”

“Hmm,” Hermione considered, “what about giant spiders?”

Narcissa made a look of disgust.

“Okay, I’ll give you those.”

Draco gave Hermione a look that said “shut up!”

“Point is, if you give someone a chance, they might just surprise you,” Hermione said.

Narcissa was silent for a moment before she looked away.

“I suppose you’re right. How did you learn so much about people when you spent your whole childhood at home?”

Hermione scoffed.

“Having to deal with this one,” she pointed at Draco, “taught me a lot about people.”

“I’m a great teacher,” Draco said smugly.

“More like a case study,” Hermione replied.

Draco scowled while Narcissa snickered.

Draco tapped his forehead.

‘She does not like my father,’ Draco thought in Hermione’s head.

‘Yes, I’ve noticed,’ she replied.

‘What are we going to do?’

‘Well, she’s in the same group with him for potions for the next semester. Perhaps I can help with setting that up while we work together.’

‘You’re a group of three?’

‘Yes, it seems that you and I threw off the numbers.’

‘It seems as if you and I are the only ones she can stand being around.’

‘Yes, well, one of us is her son and the other is a friend of her son.’

Draco didn’t think that was how Narcissa saw Hermione, but she did seem to see Draco as a somewhat confusing entity.

He didn’t blame her. If his child came back from the future and met younger him, he would probably not know how to react to them either.

‘Hermione.’

‘Don’t use that tone with me, Draco.’

‘What potion were you making today?’

‘No.’

‘You haven’t even heard me out yet!’

‘I am not going to pretend to be your father to seduce your mother.’

‘That was not what I was going to say, Granger!’

‘Then what were you going to say?’

‘Not seduce, that’s for sure. I saw going to request that you at least pretend to be him and be friendly to her.’

‘If it’s not seduction then you do it!’

‘I’m not going to pretend to be my father to romance my mother!’

‘So it is romancing.’

‘Granger! You promised to help me.’

Hermione sighed, making Narcissa glance at her.

‘If it gets worse, I’ll consider it.’

‘Really?!’

‘But you can’t get upset if your mother falls in love with me,’ Hermione thought jokingly.

‘If you seduce my mother I will personally make your life a living hell.’

‘So you think I could do it?’

‘Don’t twist my words, Granger.’

Draco withdrew from Hermione’s head with an irritable huff, leaning back and letting his eyes fall shut on her lap. Hermione gently rubbed at his head.

She wondered how stressful it was to watch his parents argue like that.

She really hoped it didn’t come to her having to use the potion, but she knew that at least it would take a while before their poly juice was completed.

And if she had to pretend to be Lucius… how would Narcissa react?

Hermione didn’t think that Narcissa liked her enough to overlook her appearance should she be Lucius, and even if she did, the idea of pushing those two closer after what she’d seen left a sour taste in her mouth.

Draco stood after a few minutes and went after his father, hoping that he could find a way to help him with Narcissa.

The pair of witches watched him leave.

“When did you two meet?” Narcissa asked, nodding her head toward Draco’s back.

“Around what I suppose would have been considered our first year,” Hermione said.

“You said you were family friends?”

“Yes, I suppose you could call us that,” Hermione said. To be fair, she was technically friends with Draco’s mother now, which constitutes family friends.

“You suppose?”

“His… father did not exactly like my family,” Hermione said. Narcissa was silent, but Hermione could tell that she wanted her to go on. “He comes from a long line of purebloods on both sides.”

There was a long silence between them, and Hermione refused to look at the other woman.

“I presume that you do not?”

Hermione took it as a positive that Narcissa had not already walked away or made a sound of disgust, though she was slightly surprised.

“No,” she said. “My father, a muggle, didn’t want me to go to Hogwarts after I got my letter and… well, you can fill in the rest.”

Hermione wasn’t technically lying, but she still felt bad about not telling the whole truth. She didn’t like lying in general, but especially to  friends. To Narcissa.

“Yes, well, you cannot blame him for that.”

Hermione finally looked at her, eyes narrowing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if he knew anything about witches and wizards, he would know that you likely wouldn’t be treated with kindness from some.”

Hermione was quiet, but she nodded.

“I’m glad you’re here now, though,” Narcissa said quietly. So quietly that Hermione wondered if she had been meant to hear that part. “I won’t let anyone know.”

Hermione found herself smiling and she leaned over toward Narcissa, putting a hand on top of hers.

“Thank you, Cissy. For what it’s worth, I’m glad that I’m here now too.”

Hermione wasn’t sure if she should be worried that she wasn’t lying.

“Your mother must have been quite the witch,” Narcissa said, changing the topic quickly to distract herself (and Hermione) from the blush that was bleeding down to her neck.

“Pardon?” Hermione asked, having momentarily forgotten that Narcissa didn’t actually know everything.

“To have taught you so well, I mean. You seem quite skilled.”

Hermione wondered if the room was getting hotter.

“Thank you, but… I learned most of my spells from textbooks.”

“Well, that only makes it more impressive.”

Hermione smiled gently and glanced to the side at Narcissa. She suddenly realized that she hadn’t taken her hand off of Narcissa’s own, and she rectified that quickly.

She didn’t notice the disappointed expression on the other woman’s face.

“Thank you.”

“Perhaps I should be calling you Ravenclaw, however.”

“Because of the textbooks?” Hermione asked, laughing.

“No, because of your father.”

Hermione gaped are her, starting to think she had misinterpreted Narcissa’s kindness, before Narcissa started to laugh.

“Of course because of the textbooks. Please, we just moved past that.”

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling just a bit.

There was a comfortable silence for a while, Narcissa reading through the textbook that Hermione had allowed her to borrow.

“What family did you say your friend was from?” Narcissa asked suddenly.

Hermione wondered why that had come up.

“Saltly.”

Narcissa frowned and thought for a moment.

“I’ve never heard of them.”

“Yes, well,” Hermione coughed into her hand to buy herself some time, “Draco is not the first in their family to be home schooled, and not all of them were allowed to come here for their seventh year.”

The response seemed to satisfy Narcissa, though Hermione wondered why she cared in the first place.

Meanwhile, Narcissa was considering if she could send a letter to her sisters to track down the Saltlys and have a word with Draco’s father.

She decided against it, if only because she would have to explain to her family how close she was with a not-so-pureblooded witch.

Chapter Text

Draco had a way with words, and Hermione would have to give him that. Despite that, she didn’t always appreciate the way he had, nor how he used it.

“I’m sorry, you told him what?!” Hermione hissed.

“I told him that I wanted an in with the Malfoy and that I’d help him with Narcissa if he wanted.”

“Why?!”

“Uh, because I want to be born?” Draco stared at Hermione.

He wasn’t sure why Hermione was acting so weird about this whole situation. He trusted her, something that had taken him years of therapy and friendship, and knew that she wanted him to be born, but she seemed so hesitant to actually do anything to help him get his parents together. He couldn’t figure out a reason for her behavior.

Hermione ran a hand down her face.

“What did you tell him you’d do?”

“Just try to set some things up, give him some insight…”

“Did you tell him I’m involved?” Hermione asked.

He shook his head, and she sighed in relief.

“I told him about the poly juice idea.”

“Then you did involve me!” Hermione hissed.

“I didn’t tell him who would do it,” Draco said.

There was a beat of silence.

“What did he say?”

“He absolutely adores the idea,” Draco drawled, rolling his eyes.

In that moment, Hermione realized that she wasn’t the only one that was upset at the idea of Narcissa having to marry Lucius.

Draco had always been a momma’s boy.

Hermione sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Fine.”

Draco grabbed her in a hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and squeezing her tightly.

“Thank you.”

Hermione hugged him back, and she thought she could feel the cold touch of his tears on her shoulder.

Draco wasn’t only scared for his life, but guilty for the one he was going to sentence his mother to.

Hermione squeezed him tighter and ran a hand down his back comfortingly.

-

“They take a month brew completely, yes?” Draco asked.

Hermione nodded.

“Do you think we’ll be here that long?”

He was leaning against her shoulder now, head in the crook of her neck with his arm wrapped around her waist. They were in a dark alley of the dungeon, and Hermione was still holding him in both arms. She felt as if her heart was getting torn apart as well.

“Hopefully not, but I don’t have enough information to make a reliable hypothesis.”

“What do we do until then?”

“I suppose we do what you promised.”

Draco glanced at Hermione.

“We pull a Parent Trap.”

There was a short silence.

“What’s a Parent Trap?”

“You wizards really have no culture, do you?”

-

Hermione laid her head back on the couch, trying desperately to figure out a way to help Lucius romance Narcissa.

Her mind was filled with countless romantic clichés from different muggle movies, but before she could get rid of them, a thought entered her head.

Narcissa hadn’t seen any of those movies or read any muggle books.

She would have no idea.

With that in mind, Hermione summoned a piece of parchment and began to write out a list  of ideas.

-

“Should I be concerned that you had so many ways to seduce my mother you could write down?” Draco asked.

“Perhaps I’m fond of ‘your momma’ jokes.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

-

Narcissa wondered if it was too early to say that this was her favorite year at Hogwarts.

They were only a week and a half in, but she was already enjoying the year far more than she had though possible. She had two good friends that didn’t see her as just her name and there was no family here to ruin that for her.

Don’t get her wrong, she loved her family, she really did, despite everything they had gone through, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t be downright despicably embarrassing.

She had two good friends, and they made her feel how nobody else ever had. Draco… he irritated her to a level that only family could, and the idea of anything ever happening to him made her want to leap off the tallest balcony she could find.

And Hermione?

She didn’t know how to describe the other woman. She was, quite possibly, the smartest person she had ever met. She had a way with words, one that made her wit impossible to ignore. And she was generous and kind. The most generous Slytherin that Narcissa thought she had ever met.

As if summoned by Narcissa’s musings, Hermione strode into the great hall, taking the seat next to Narcissa with a small smile sent her way.

Narcissa felt as if she had he caught doing something wrong, and she looked away after returning the woman’s expression. Narcissa had never had real friends outside of her family before, a friend that didn’t want anything but to spend time with her. Perhaps that was why Narcissa was so confused by the other woman’s presence.

Hermione seemed a little confused on Narcissa’s since and, to be honest, Narcissa was as well. The two of them were close, and she desperately wanted to stop the confusing emotions from ruining that for her.

Narcissa greeted her and made small talk, if only so that she could make sure that Hermione didn’t think she had done something wrong. The only thing that made her more nervous than Hermione was the idea that Hermione might get upset with her… or be upset in general.

A moment later, owls flooded the hall, letters cascading down on the students as the owls hooted and chirped.

Narcissa was surprised to find an unfamiliar owl land in front of her on the table, a letter sticking out toward her.

She glanced at Hermione and Draco for a moment, as if expecting one of them to know what the owl had brought her or who had sent it, but both of them looked as confused as she did.

She reached out, slowly, and took the folded up parchment from the bird and opened it.

The handwriting was unfamiliar, but she wasn’t surprised. It was clear that a spell had been cast over the paper to make it so that the author was unidentifiable. The mere thought made her nervous.

At least it wasn’t a howler.

Narcissa started to read the paper, not noticing that her two new friends were watching her very intently as she did so.

My Dearest Narcissa,

It is with deep fear that I write this to you, but I feel that I must let my feelings be known. Not for my sake, but for yours.

For years you’ve felt unseen, unknown, and unheard, trapped by your own family. But you’re more than just a name, more than the stature that it carries.

You can, and are, loved for more than what you can give to people. You are more than an item, and to all those who’ve made you feel that way I’ve nothing but contempt.

You are the strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, both inside and out.

It’s with the warmest regards that I sent this to you, and I hope that this letter might give you a fraction of the happiness that you’ve been me.

With love,

An Admirer (thought surely not your only one)

Narcissa stared at the letter, wondering if it was fake. Her face was a light shade of red, regardless. Even if it was fake, they had done it well, and had clearly put a lot of thought into their words, considering how hard it had hit home.

“Are you alright, Cissy?” Hermione asked, leaning over her shoulder. Narcissa absolutely did not enjoy the warmth of her touch.

“Yes,” she cleared her throat, which had slightly closed up, “yes, I’m alright. I just… have to leave early for class.”

Narcissa stood up and carefully folded the letter back up, gently setting it in her pocket.

“Oh, alright,” Hermione seemed slightly worried about her and put a hand on her arm, squeezing it lightly.

Narcissa left hurriedly, finding a corner where her emotional response wouldn’t be seen while she tried to figure out who had sent the letter. Her first thought was her family, but the only one who would write such a thing was Andromeda, who wouldn’t likely write it anonymously.

Also… she couldn’t help but feel like the letter had been romantic in nature, which only made her more confused. She had never been overly interested in romance, but whoever had written that letter was quite the charmer. It reminded her of something, of someone, and she felt her face flood with heat.

It seemed as if she had a type, and the thought made her jaw drop.

It seemed as if she had a weakness for intellectuals with charming words and brown eyes that she could drown in…

In other words, Narcissa had a weakness for Hermione, which was the real problem.

-

“Nice going, Granger! Your letter broke my mom!” Draco hissed in Hermione’s ear.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“What did you even write in it?!” Draco demanded.

“It was very sweet!” Hermione whispered. “I promise there was nothing in it that will stop you from being born.”

-

Hermione took a seat next to Narcissa in potions, smiling at her and she slung her bag off of her arm.

Narcissa smiled back, though the expression was different than it normally was. Hermione was quite a sight, Narcissa decided, with her slightly unruly hair cascading down her back and her bright eyes filled with care.

Narcissa had not called until an hour ago, been aware that she was interested in women, let alone ones that were her opposite in almost every way imaginable.

“All right, Cissa?”

Narcissa nodded, feeling a bit silly. She felt a bit like a school girl with her first crush but, to be fair, she supposed that she basically was.

Narcissa had never understood the big deal that people made about romance, but when Hermione smiled at her like she was the only one in the room, she suddenly felt as if she knew what all the fuss was about.

“Just didn’t sleep well,” Narcissa lied with ease.

Hermione gave her a consoling smile and patted her on the leg.

Narcissa felt as if everywhere Hermione had touched was on fire.

“Anything I can do?”

Narcissa shook her head before reconsidering.

“Run interference? I’m far too tired to deal with Malfoy today.”

Hermione snickered and nodded, though distantly she was worried that perhaps she should be concerned about that.

“My pleasure.”

Said Malfoy waltzed into the room and sat down beside Narcissa, giving her a smirk. Hermione knew he was aware of the letter having been sent to Narcissa this morning, and she wondered if he was going to blow the whole plan out of the water.

Thankfully, he didn’t comment on it, and Hermione was free to keep the conversation light and far away from anything that might turn romantic. Narcissa’s thankful look was more than enough payment for her actions.

Meanwhile, Narcissa took a moment to consider the improbability, and stupidity, of the situation she found herself in. On her left-hand side, she found the man she was supposed to marry. The man that her family was desperately trying to set her up with despite all of her attempts to dissuade them. And to her right? Oh, that was just the woman she fancied that was, quite possibly, the best friend she had ever had. In a way, on either side of her was a path.

The life she was meant to live, the one that would please her family but keep her trapped forever, was on her left… and to her right there was freedom and exhilaration coupled with disappointment and disownment.

She wasn’t sure which one she wanted to pick, but she couldn’t help imagining her life following the first woman that had made her feel as if she had a choice.

She was in a lot of trouble.

Chapter Text

Hermione wondered what Narcissa had thought about her letter. She had thought it was quite nice, and very well tailored for the woman it was given to, but she hated to give it to the other woman.

She didn't like to give the credit of the letter to Lucius, though he wouldn't receive it until the last step of their plan, and didn't like the idea of tricking Narcissa. It made her chest tighten and made her feel dirty.

She was glad when potions was over, and she let Narcissa lead her out of the classroom quickly.

"Mione?" Narcissa called.

Hermione was surprised, Narcissa had never called her by that nickname before, but she looked to the side at her friend.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever felt like nothing you do matters? As in... nothing you do will change your fate?"

Hermione swallowed thickly, trying to figure out what to say.

"I have."

"Do you think it's useless to fight against fate?"

Hermione considered for a long moment, so long that Narcissa was starting to think she might not respond.

Hermione knew a few things about fate. More than she wished to, actually. She'd watched how it had affected Harry and how he lived.

"No, I don't. Nothing anyone does is useless, and even fate has room to change."

"How can you be so sure of its ability to change?"

"I've seen it change," Hermione said truthfully, "but even if it couldn't? Every decision is still important, even fighting fate. Just because something is predestined doesn't mean it has no meaning."

Narcissa was silent for what felt like an eternity.

"You've seen it change?" she asked finally.

"I believe we all have," Hermione said.

Narcissa didn't push the point, sensing that it was something Hermione didn't want to talk about.

"Why do you ask?"

"The same reason anyone would. I feel trapped."

Hermione reached out as they walked, threading her fingers through Narcissa's own.

Narcissa almost missed a step in surprise, but she stayed silent, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"I am too."

Narcissa looked at her, and she saw that Hermione appeared to be in pain.

Narcissa considered pressing the issue, but she decided to let herself enjoy the moment instead.

They walked silently through the hall side by side, hand in hand.

Hermione made Narcissa feel free, and she could only hope that she did the same for the other woman.

"You know... I found an old parchment about a place to go when you feel overwhelmed."

Narcissa glanced at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

-

Hermione was pacing back and forth now, though she had let Narcissa's hand go to do so and she missed the contact.

"What are you doing, Gryffindor?" Narcissa asked, one eyebrow raised and her arms crossed as she watched the other woman pace.

Before Hermione could respond, a door appeared out of nowhere in front of Narcissa.

"What th-" 

Hermione reached out and grabbed her hand again, pulling her toward the door.

"Hermione, what are we...," she trailed off when she the door swung open, revealing a small room with an encompassing bookcase in each direction. There was a large bed in the middle, which had a built in stationary for quills and parchment.

"Did you set this up?" Narcissa asked.

"It's the room of requirements," Hermione replied. "It knew what we needed."

Hermione glanced around, and she was surprised to find nothing that referenced the future, nothing that could bring her and Draco to the future.

That could only mean one of two things: Dumbledore, or the timeline, had not allowed a time turner to appear... or Hermione didn't feel as if she required the time turner.

The second option was terrifying, and she wondered what it could mean. The only things she had in this time were Draco and Narcissa...

Hermione shook her head to clear it, getting back to her description of the room.

Narcissa was silent for a moment, and she glanced to the side at Hermione with a small smile.

"Thank you for showing me this," she whispered.

Hermione took a seat and reached to the side, grabbing the first book she could get a hand on. She knew for a fact that whatever book she got would be intriguing, both because she adored reading and because the room of requirements wouldn't have given her a single book that she wasn't interested in.

The two read in silence for a while.

"Is it Lucius?" Hermione asked.

Narcissa looked up.

"Is he what?"

"Is he what makes you feel trapped?"

Narcissa set down her book and laid down, considering how she should respond.

"Yes and no."

Hermione wasn't upset by the complex answer, which only made Narcissa like her more.

"He makes me feel trapped, but it's not just him. It's what he embodies."

Hermione nodded, lying down beside her and staring up at the ceiling of the room.

Narcissa was very intent on how close she was to the other woman, and she wondered if Hermione could be upset if she got closer.

"He's what I'm supposed to become. A life with him..."

"It's empty," Hermione finished for her.

Narcissa nodded silently.

"What about you?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione took her time responding before she rolled over on the bed, looking Narcissa in the eyes.

"I like to help people," Hermione began, the words making Narcissa's heart melt. "But recently, I've... found someone I don't know if I can help."

Narcissa stared into Hermione's eyes, and she felt as if she knew who Hermione was talking about.

"You're not responsible for other people's happiness."

"I know, but sometimes I wish I could be."

Narcissa's gaze darted from Hermione's eyes down to her lips before she was able to get ahold of herself and make eye contact again.

Narcissa was going to reply, she really was, but she didn't know what she was going to say. Before she had the chance to find out, however, she heard a ring that echoed through the small room.

Hermione looked up before grimacing.

"That would be a reminder for our next class," she said, pushing herself to her feet and holding her hand out to help Narcissa up.

"Right," Narcissa muttered.

-

Hermione wasn't sure how she was supposed to deal with helping Draco's parents get together, especially after the conversation she had just had.

Hermione's mind went back to present Narcissa, the one that she had last saw sitting in the ministry hall waiting for someone. She wondered who that was, considering Draco had claimed that he had no idea that his mother was there.

Hermione wondered if she still felt trapped, or if Lucius being locked away had finally set her free for good.

She wondered if there was a way for her to help Narcissa in the future, a way for her to let Narcissa remember her know that she cared.

The questions, sadly, went unanswered, and she knew that there was no way that she would be able to do anything about them until well into the future.

As they sat in class, Hermione found herself watching the other witch, distantly tracing the lines of her profile with her eyes.

She slowly reached out and put her hand on top of Narcissa's.

Narcissa stiffened under the sudden touch for a moment before she melted into it, turning her palm right side up so that Hermione could thread their fingers together.

Their hands were covered under the table, and Narcissa wondered if this was Hermione's way of trying to let her know that what was going on between them was special, something that nobody needed to know about but them.

Narcissa tried to keep the light blush off of her face, but it was impossible when Hermione was so close.

She let out a slow breath before grabbing onto her quill, starting to take notes (if only so she had some distraction from the fact that Hermione was holding her hand on top of her thigh, which was so distracting that it should have been illegal for the other witch to touch her).

Hermione didn’t seem to notice the fact that she was disturbing the peace of mind Narcissa had barely managed to wrangle into place earlier that class.

-

“Granger?”

Hermione picked her head up out of her book, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you get my attention to insult me?”

“Of course not,” Draco said.

There was a beat of silence where Hermione stared at him.

“Okay, that’s not the only reason.”

“Must be a blue moon.”

Draco scoffed.

“What did you write to my mother?”

“I just told her that she is a very special, very loved, woman.”

“Where’s the romance in that?!”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Letting people know they’re loved is the definition of romance, Draco.”

“Yeah, but where’s all the compliments and comments about her appearance?!”

“If you want me to write about how attractive your mother is, we may have to have another conversation.”

Draco grimaced.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I don’t know, Draco, she is quite the catch.”

“Granger!”

“Even older her is quite attractive, though I never would have thought you of all people would want to hear me say it.”

“Stop talking about how hot you think my mother is!” Draco snapped.

His voice was so loud that Narcissa looked up, not having heard a word of their whispered conversation.

Narcissa blinked rapidly, and Hermione felt her face flood with heat.

Draco didn’t seem to be fairing much better than Hermione was, considering how mortified his expression was.

“Apologies,” Draco muttered.

Narcissa wasn’t looking at him, instead focused on Hermione.

Hermione rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly and let out a quiet laugh.

“Right, well,” Narcissa cleared her throat, “I do hope you’ll get Draco’s permission before you ask her out.”

Hermione snorted and Draco almost choked on his own tongue.

“I suppose you’re right, though maybe right now isn’t the proper time to ask.”

“There is never a right time to ask, Granger!” Draco hissed, though he was struggling not to laugh.

“I don’t know,” Hermione teased, “she seems quite taken with me.”

“That’s enough talk about my mother,” Draco said pointedly, rolling his eyes.

Hermione and Narcissa shared a smirk before falling silent, though Narcissa found herself wondering if Hermione was in fact interested in other witches…

Though it might be an issue that Hermione was speaking of older women, considering the fact that Hermione appeared to be a bit older than her.

Hermione, meanwhile, was wondering why those jokes didn’t feel like they were quite as playful as they should have.

And Draco? Well, Draco was starting to worry that he hadn’t been misinterpreting the signals he’d been picking up on.

-

Hermione took a deep breath, laying back in bed and staring up at the ceiling.

It had been a long day, so much so that she was worried that it would be impossible for her to make it through the rest of the month…

At the end of which she was expected to pretend to be none other than Lucius Malfoy who had been sending those love letters to Narcissa.

Lucius who had a romantic gift lined up tomorrow for Narcissa to find.

Lucius, not Hermione, who was going to go through the process of making Narcissa fall for him.

Hermione inhaled sharply at the thought.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

She did not want to take Lucius’ spot. 

She was just… frustrated at having been snubbed her chance to take the credit for her exceedingly romantic plan.

That was it.

Ron was right, she just loved getting the credit for things.

Yep.

She was glad it was that rather than her wanting Narcissa to know that it was her who had been writing the letters.

Because that was Draco’s mother. The mother of one of her closest friends. And, while Hermione might appreciate the feminine form, and perhaps even Narcissa’s in particular, that didn’t mean she fancied whatever woman she befriended.

And even if she appreciated the woman’s presence, and found speaking with her to be quite invigorating, that did not a crush make.

Hermione went to sleep feeling quite convinced with her rationale.

Chapter Text

Hermione had never considered herself to be the most romantic of women, especially considering she had shared a room for several years with some of the girls she did think were. She had never, and feared on some level that she would never, been inspired by someone to the lengths that she wanted to move the heaven above to impress them. She had never felt the urge to make such grand gestures so that they knew she would stop at nothing to let them feel her love.

Despite that, she had found herself inspired to give Narcissa a myriad of gifts in Lucius’ name. Although, of course, they were all signed by the same anonymous admirer that had sent the other witch her first letter.

Currently, Narcissa was seated in the Slytherin common room with an hourglass pendant around her neck. The hourglass was small, yet pristine, with a silver finish that glistened in the light. There was a mixture of red and green sand in the pendant, though of course they didn’t move for fear of the charm wearing off. Hermione had sent it to her in another letter, which had let Narcissa know that her love (Lucius’ love, of course) would never fade, even as the years passed and the sand trickled down the glass.

Hermione had been rather proud of herself for the letter, though she had to admit that she had been inspired by the pendant.

She hadn’t bought it, no she didn’t want to attract attention to herself in such a way in this time period, but had rather found it in the room of requirements whilst thinking about wanting to give Narcissa a gift.

She had found it rather odd that the gift she required was a simple hourglass pendant, as pretty as it might be, but she didn’t question it, instead finding it fitting for the situation she found herself in.

Narcissa seemed to appreciate the necklace, that much was clear from the fact that she was wearing it around her neck still, and Hermione tried not to be so smug about that.

-

Narcissa reached up and ran her fingers down the side of the pendant, smiling to herself.

She ha received a few gifts and letters from the anonymous admirer now, and she was starting to think she knew who it was.

When she had first started to get them, she had been rather worried that it was Lucius that had been sending them, trying to get her to change her mind about her distaste for him, but she knew know that that couldn’t be true.

He just didn’t know enough about her, or about charming a woman in general, to have drafted these letters.

As she played with the pendant, she found herself glancing up. She caught Hermione looking back at her, and she couldn’t help but smile, thin though it may be.

She was beginning to think that Hermione had been sending these letters. After all, there were only so many people that were as charming as she, and that number was slashed dramatically when cross referenced with those who actually liked, or even understood, Narcissa.

Furthermore, the pendant was a mixture between red and green, which she couldn’t help but think of as a reference to their Slytherin and Gryffindor running joke.

She knew Hermione wasn’t, couldn’t be, a Gryffindor, but the mixture in that pendant couldn’t be a coincidence. She wouldn’t believe it.

-

Hermione took a deep breath and ran a hair through her hair.

Every time she watched Narcissa play with the pendant, she found herself wondering when she stopped wearing it.

Hermione had only been close to Narcissa a handful of times before she had been brought back in time. However, every time she had been that close to her, she hadn’t actually noticed it she wore the necklace or not, but she presumed that she wouldn’t have kept the necklace longer than her own son had been alive.

Draco took a seat next to Hermione on the couch, following her gaze.

“Is that an hourglass necklace?” Draco asked, squinting slightly.

Distantly, Hermione thought that he likely needed glasses, but Draco refused to get them (mostly because of them being Harry’s trademark, which Draco either didn’t want to infringe on or didn’t want to be reminded of every time he wore them).

“Yes,” Hermione said. “I sent it to her this morning.”

“That’s from you?”

Hermione glanced at him for a moment before nodding.

“Yes, though I suppose it’s officially from your father. Why do you ask?”

Draco shook his head and tore his gaze away from his mother, fighting a smile.

“I recognize that necklace.”

Hermione started.

“You do?”

“It’s my mother’s. I mean, in the future.”

Hermione felt her chest constrict.

“She does?”

Hermione wondered why her voice felt so gentle. She cleared her throat.

“Yes, it’s her favorite,” Hermione’s heart stopped for a moment, “it must work!”

Hermione’s brain stuttered.

“What must work?”

“Us getting them together!” Draco hissed, eyes alight with excitement. He looked more relaxed now than he had in the month since they’d gotten there. “This is fantastic!”

Hermione forced a smile.

“Yes, truly wonderful,” she said.

Draco didn’t seem to notice that Hermione’s words were hollow, and he leaned over to grab her in a tight hug. Hermione returned the action, though she felt a bit ashamed for finding comfort in the embrace.

She really should be happier that her friend was going to be born. And she was!

But…

She chanced a look across the common room and found that it Narcissa was still watching her.

Hermione hid her face in the crook of Draco’s neck.

“I believe the poly juice should be ready,” Draco said. “Maybe this is it! She gets the necklace, they meet up, and the rest is history! We escape this time, and we’re home free!”

Hermione felt ill at the thought.

“You think?” she asked, sounding slightly nervous.

Draco nodded excitedly.

“Yes!”

“I’m not sure if she’s ready.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that she doesn’t like Lucius at all. She won’t just magically change her mind short of a love potion, and we’re not going to do that to her.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“We need to wait,” Hermione said.

It felt right to say.

“For what?!”

“Them to know each other better! For her to feel anything but hatred for him!”

“Yes, but that would take far too long. Years, probably.”

Hermione supposed that was a fair point.

“Then we speed the process up.”

“How?”

“What if… what if we pretend to befriend him?”

Draco gaped at her.

“What?!”

“Listen! What if we befriend him, have him hang out with Narcissa, and then…”

Draco considered, rubbing his chin with one hand as he thought.

“Do you think that could work?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t.”

Draco groaned.

“But how do we pretend to be his friends.”

Hermione briefly wondered if Draco being born was worth having to deal with his father for more than a minute at a time.

The answer was that yes, he was, but Hermione found that she absolutely hated being a good friend in that moment.

-

“I’m sorry,” Narcissa said, drawing the words out slowly, “you what?”

Hermione forced a small smile.

“Well, it’s more like Draco is his friend, but I’m vicariously one now, and as are you.”

Narcissa glared at her.

“Is being Draco’s friend worth that?” she asked.

“I asked myself the same thing,” Hermione tried not to smile at their similar responses, “but truthfully he’s not as bad as you’d think.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

Hermione nodded earnestly.

“He’s not horrible. He’s… well, he’s rather troubled, but I’ve found myself thinking he deserves another shot.”

Narcissa scowled.

“You’re a far better witch than I, Gryffindor.”

“And here I was thinking you had house pride.”

Narcissa scoffed.

“You know what I meant.”

“Here, how about this. You come with me and we both give him a second shot together. How does that sound?”

Narcissa sighed.

How did it sound?

It sounded like torture and heaven at the same time. Alone time with Hermione? She’d had dreams of that. But having to also see him? Well, that was the stuff of nightmares, and Hermione knew that.

Why was she trying so hard to get Narcissa to meet with him?

Hermione couldn’t have… no, she wouldn’t have been in contact with her family.

Narcissa was sure if that.

“When do you want this to be?” Narcissa asked sufferingly.

“How about Hogsmeade weekend?” Hermione asked. “We could hit the shops, have something to eat…,” Hermione had almost forgotten the most important part, “give him a second chance…”

Narcissa felt as if Hermione had almost stopped listing before she mentioned Lucius.

The idea made her heart beat faster and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

“You’ll be there?”

“I promise.”

“Well, if it’s a promise from a Gryffindor…,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “then I suppose.”

Hermione grinned.

“I wouldn’t say a Gryffindor is making the promise, but yes.”

“Well you’re my Gryffindor, so…,” Narcissa trailed off as she realized the connotations of her words. She flushed a bright shade of red and looked away.

When she was looking away, Hermione found herself blushing as well.

“All right, as your Gryffindor,” Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the words, “I promise.”

Narcissa brought her hand up to the necklace and played with it idly.

Something she loved about the gift was that it didn’t appear to be too expensive. She appreciated it nonetheless, and perhaps it was because of that that she liked the gift. Her entire life, people had tried to buy her attention with rare and fancy items, but whoever this was meant something with their gift.

And, if Narcissa’a growing suspicions were correct, Hermione really had thought through the gift and what it meant…

She couldn’t let herself be sidetracked. It was dangerous to let Hermione do that, especially if the girl was trying to get something out of her. If Narcissa wasn’t careful, she just might end up giving Hermione everything she asked for.

After all, those beautiful eyes and that pleading look should be illegal.

-

“Well?”

“She said okay.”

Draco cheered and wrapped his arms around Hermione’s shoulders and buried his face in her shoulder.

“That’s great! Where are they going?!”

“Well…,” Draco pulled back from hugging Hermione to give her a level look.

“Well what?”

“It’s actually… all three of us going.”

“You and my parents?”

Hermione nodded.

“So the only way this can happen is with you going along as a third wheel?” Draco asked.

Hermione didn’t think she was the third wheel, but she decided not to comment on it for fear that it would upset Draco even more.

“It’s better that I go along with them and she goes than for me to not go and she doesn’t either.”

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I shouldn’t be blaming you for doing your best. I’m just nervous.”

Hermione grabbed his arm and squeezed it.

“I know. But you don’t have to worry, it’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

There was a long silence.

“Mione?”

“Yeah?”

“If things don’t go fine…”

“They will.”

“But if they don’t go as planned… would you do a favor for me?”

“Of course. What is it?”

He didn’t respond, and Hermione glanced at him, frowning.

“Draco?”

“Never mind.”

“What was it?”

“They wouldn’t remember me anyways if you told them.”

“Who wouldn’t remember?”

Draco shook his head.

“Never mind.”

He started to pull away, but Hermione held him fast.

“You should tell them yourself when we get back.”

Draco scoffed.

“The only reason I wanted you to tell them is because I thought I might be on my death bed.”

“You should always let people know that kind of thing before it gets that far.”

Draco scoffed.

“What are you, my mother?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious.”

Draco considered for a long moment.

“I’ll think about it.”

Hermione supposed that was the best she was going to get.

Chapter Text

Hermione liked to think of herself as a good witch. That sounded like a Wizard of Oz reference, but she truly didn't mean for it to be.

The point was that she liked to think she was a good person, a person who would not, could not, use an unforgivable curse.

That being said, she had never in her life been as tempted to use one as she was now, considering Lucius had just put his hand on Narcissa's thigh and had that smug look on his face. Narcissa stiffened at the contact, and Hermione had to quickly remind herself why she was allowing this to happen.

For Draco.

Yes, that was why, so she couldn't kill Draco's father.

Despite that, Hermione scooted to the side of the booth and Narcissa followed her lead.

Hermione was more than happy to help the other witch put distance between herself and Lucius.

Narcissa, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how she should feel. She was torn between being absolutely miserable, considering Lucius was here, but Hermione was also here with her, on something that could reasonably be called a date were they the only two at the booth.

So, yes, there was a bit of an emotional turmoil in her gut, considering the fact that being this close to Hermione made her heart race and her palms start to sweat in a very undignified.

The rest of the evening did not change much, in Narcissa's opinion, until she was able to grab onto Hermione's hand and pull her into a side alley and sneak away from Lucius.

Hermione seemed surprised at the action, but she certainly did not resist. Narcissa had grabbed her by the wrist to drag her off, but Hermione had slid her hand down so that their fingers were threaded together. Narcissa tried not to look too deeply at that. She flushed a light shade of red and put on her best composed facade.

"Cissy?" Hermione whispered.

The two were pressed close together, having hidden between two very close stores, and were cloaked in shadow.

"I think we lost him, Gryffindor."

Hermione scoffed quietly. She wanted to find him again, a part of her did at least, but she found herself standing motionless with Narcissa in front of her.

Narcissa was a bit shorter than her, though not overly so, and Hermione distantly wondered if the other woman was her height in the future, but she couldn't remember. Narcissa was still wearing the pendant that Hermione had sent her, and she found herself far too happy about that.

"That's not very nice," Hermione chided, but it was playful.

"Neither is him groping me under the table."

Hermione decided that was a fair response.

"I thought you were going to give him a chance for Draco."

Hermione found that she wasn't meeting Narcissa's gaze, and she forced her eyes upward.

"Draco will survive me avoiding Lucius," Narcissa said flippantly.

Hermione tried to keep a neutral expression.

"I suppose that's true," Hermione said, though it was forced.

There was a long moment of silence, the two women simply existing in each other's presence.

"Hermione?"

Hermione wasn't sure she could speak, so she nodded, though this action brought her closer to Narcissa, which, admittedly, might not have been the best decision in that moment.

"May I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Are you-"

Whatever Narcissa was going to ask was lost as a loud, and familiar, voice called out.

"Granger?!"

Hermione jumped, her head snapping up.

When had she started to lean down?!

Narcissa seemed shocked as well, and she let go of Hermione's hand just in time for Draco to appear at the entrance to the alley.

"There you are! What are you...," Draco trailed off, eyes darting between the two women.

"Narcissa wanted to make a quick exit," Hermione said, glad that she was cloaked in the dark alleyway, considering how warm her face felt.

Draco's face fell, though he was still watching the pair, blocking the exit from the alley.

"Are you just going to stand there Hawking, Draco, or are you going to let us past?" Narcissa asked.

She sounded regal, but from their close proximity made Hermione relatively sure that she could see the other woman blushing.

Draco moved to the side, letting his mother pass, but reached out to grab Hermione's arm.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, though it was practically a demand.

Hermione barley had time to nod before he pulled her into the alleyway.

Hermione stumbled, looking up and finding that Narcissa was watching them. Or, more specifically, she was watching where Draco was holding her arm.

"We'll catch up with you in a minute, Cissy," Hermione said, trying to give her a consoling smile.

Narcissa nodded, though she seemed upset to leave.

Hermione wondered why.

"Granger, it's not working."

"What?" Hermione asked, jumping. She had to tear her gaze away from Narcissa's retreating form.

"We're going to have to do the poly juice, there's no other way."

Hermione felt her heart fall.

"Oh, right...," she struggled internally, her heart breaking.

Why was that?

Sure, she abhorred the idea of trapping Narcissa into a loveless marriage, of lying to the woman who she now genuinely considered to be one of her closest friends.

But it was more than that.

Distantly, Hermione wondered again if Narcissa would forget her when they left.

"After the break," Hermione said.

They only had a few days left before they were supposed to have the winter break, and Hermione thought it might give Narcissa time to forget how awful Lucius was. Distance made the heart grow fonder, right?

Draco gritted his teeth.

"Do you think we have that long?"

"We've been here for the first half of the year already," Hermione said, "I'm sure a little longer won't be pushing it."

Draco ran a hand down his face.

Hermione glanced away from him, finding that Narcissa was waiting for them down the street. She offered the other woman a smile, but it was difficult.

"Fine."

Hermione let out a small breath of relief, letting her eyes fall shut.

For the first time, she found herself considering if she wanted to go back to their time.

What was the worst that could happen? Other than complete destruction of time and space, that is.

What would happen?

Would she spend the years until her birth with Narcissa? Would she watch her get married and give birth to Draco?

Would she, perhaps, spend years of her life not caring that she was lost in the past? Or would she even be lost at all?

She didn't think so, because every time she looked in Narcissa's eyes she felt like she'd been found. If she was lost, would she want to find the trail back?

She pushed the thoughts from her head forcefully.

She didn't have time for this. It was silly, anyways.

Time had already passed, and Hermione couldn't delay going back. She would trick Narcissa into having Draco, and she would go home.

Life would continue as normal. And she loved her life, truly, it was all she had ever wanted.

But when she had been content in the future, she hadn't known what she was missing.

Now she did, and she wasn't sure how she'd feel when she got back.

-

Hermione felt time slipping through her fingers as Narcissa stood at the gates of Hogwarts.

Her family was supposed to pick her up so that she didn't ride the train back, but Hermione was enjoying every moment before she left.

“Thank you for the offer,” Hermione blushed slightly, “but I’m afraid Draco and I want to have as much time as possible at Hogwarts, this being our first and last year.”

Narcissa had, surprisingly, offered to let Hermione and Draco spend the holidays with her at her home, but they had decided that they needed to spend the break preparing for their plan.

Hermione would have much preferred to spend the break with Narcissa, but Draco had been quite adamant.

“I’ll send you letters, though,” Hermione said, putting her hand on Narcissa’s arm and squeezing it.hair

Narcissa smiled a bit at the contact and nodded.

“I look forward to it.”

Before Hermione could say anything, she was surprised to see a pair of men apparate into the zone right outside the school.

Sirius stood there with a wide grin and his arm wrapped around James’ shoulders. His hand reached up and ruffled his friend’s hair before pulling away from him entirely.

“Cissy!” he cried, grabbing her in a tight hug and almost lifting her off the ground.

Narcissa let out a sound of shock, one that Hermione thought was less dignified than Narcissa had hoped it would be, and was forced to put her hands on Sirius’ shoulders to remain steady.

“Sirius!” she admonished.

Hermione found herself laughing while Draco covered his mouth to stop from making a sound of amusement.

Narcissa glanced to the side, blushing, and Sirius followed her gaze.

“Oh, am I embarrassing you in front of your friends? Something more than a friend?”

Narcissa was bright red at this point and she swatted his arm, pushing herself out of his embrace.

Hermione also felt as if weather had warmed drastically, but she refused to admit she was flushed.

“Sirius!” she hissed.

His eyes went wide.

“Cissy, have you made friends?!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and, feeling oddly defensive of the other woman, stepped forward, putting her hand on Narcissa’s arm.

“I’ll see you after the break.”

Narcissa was smiling again, and Hermione found that she very much liked the gentle expression on the other woman.

“Yes, I’ll see you then.”

Narcissa looked torn, but before she could do, or say, anything, Draco spoke up.

“Is everything okay with him?” he asked, gesturing at James.

“Oh, he’s fine, just in a spat with his girlfriend.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” James growled. “We’re done.”

Draco and Hermione both whipped their heads around.

“Who’s that?” Draco asked, trying to be subtle about his worry.

“Lily,” Sirius said, waving his hand dismissively.

“What happened?” Hermione prompted.

She didn’t know when she’d slid her hand down to grab Narcissa’s, but she felt as if she needed the comfort. Narcissa didn’t mind in the slightest, more than happy to provide whatever it was Hermione needed.

“She wants them to move in together, James is being a twat about it.”

“She wants to trap me!” James hissed.

“Oh, because you’re so worth trapping,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes. “He’s scared.”

Draco took a deep breath.

“Isn’t it better to take the shot and know it wouldn’t work than to lose her forever?” Draco asked.

Hermione thought he almost sounded desperate.

James hesitated.

“What are you, a couple’s counselor?” Sirius joked.

James had turned pale.

“Or are you just scared of being happy?” Draco whispered.

Sirius was about to make another joke, but James had suddenly spun around.

“I need to go.”

“What?!” Sirius cried.

“I need to talk to her. What if I messed it up?!”

“Calm down,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “she adores you, just go and apologize for being a bloody moron and she’ll take you back.”

James nodded and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up purposefully, before he dashed off, apparating in mid-stride.

Hermione let out a breath of relief at the exchange. That had to be it. That had to be why they were sent back, right?

Harry made Hermione happy and Narcissa made Draco happy, and they were supposed to save them.

That’s why not every prophecy is bad.

So now they just needed to save Narcissa for Malfoy, right?

Hermione thought that was a good summary, a good hypothesis.

Sirius went to get Narcissa’s attention to leave, but before Narcissa could leave, she grabbed Hermione in a tight hug and pulled away quicker than Hermione could reciprocate.

Narcissa grabbed onto Sirius, and the two disappeared without another word.

Hermione flushed, still feeling where the other witch had touched her.

What did that mean?

Chapter Text

Narcissa liked to think herself a sensible witch. She thought things through, never moved hastily, and knew how to get things when she wanted them.

However.

However, she had, somehow, done the unthinkable. She had managed to do something that she had thought impossible for her to do.

It wasn’t that Narcissa thought she was cold hearted, at least not overly so, but she had simply never imagined a future where this would be in the cards for her

Until a wild-haired half-blood with brilliant brown eyes and wondrous witticisms had appeared, quite literally, out of nowhere a few feet from her.

Narcissa had, in more than one way, been shocked by the the girl and swept off her feet from their first interaction.

So now, standing a half dozen feet from one Hermione Granger, Narcissa was coming to a startling realization.

She had, quite thoroughly, fallen in love with the other woman.

Hermione, as if sensing her presence, turned around, grinning when she saw her.

Hermione hurried over, and Narcissa found herself on the receiving end of a surprise hug this time.

“How was your break?” Hermione asked when she pulled back.

Her hands were still on Narcissa’s waist, and she found that her own were on Hermione’s shoulders.

She flushed at the contact and ducked her head slightly.

“It was good.”

But Hermione knew that. They’d been in almost constant contact since Narcissa had left Hogwarts.

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something else, but she hesitated when she saw that Draco was coming up on them.

Recently, Narcissa had noticed that the other witch was less open when Draco was around. She wondered why that was.

“Narcissa,” Draco said, sounding pleased to see her. He also gave her a hug, though Narcissa was slightly distracted by how he said her name. He always hesitated and, in most cases, did everything he could to avoid saying it. She wasn’t sure why that was either.

In fact, looking back, there was a lot of things she wasn’t sure about when it came to the pair of home schooled students.

She tossed that train of thought away, presuming that it was just her mind attempting to distance her from the idea that she had truly fallen in love.

“Draco.”

He did have a response when she said his name, however, almost as if it had a calming effect on him.

“It’s good to see you,” Hermione said, staring at Narcissa’s face.

Narcissa felt herself blush and Draco cleared his throat.

Hermione jumped.

“Uh… oh! Right, it’s good to see you, but I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather, and I’m afraid I need to rest for the rest of the day.”

Narcissa thought that was odd, considering Hermione seemed fine, but she frowned in worry regardless.

“Would you like help up the stairs?”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“No!” she cleared her throat, “no, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

Hermione put her hand in the pocket of her robe, as if she was holding something, and then she was gone.

-

“Narcissa!”

Narcissa stiffened at the voice. It was a bit off, though she supposed the man must have a cold or something of the like.

“Malfoy.”

She turned, arms crossed, but was caught off guard when she saw him.

He looked normal, for him that is, with the notable exception of his eyes and smile.

Yes, they were his, but they didn’t feel like they were. The eyes were open, the smile too genuine.

She realized he had been talking when he frowned, giving her a look of worry.

“Cissa?”

She jumped.

“I’m sorry, I just realized I never asked you if I could call you that. Do you mind?”

Narcissa was too surprised by his words to say anything, so she simply nodded.

Lucius’ smile was almost contagious, and Narcissa distantly wondered if he had tried to slip her a, slightly, failed love potion.

She’d only found a smile nearly that endearing on one face, and it certainly wasn’t his.

“Do you mind if I show you something?”

Narcissa hesitated.

She had been hoping to spend all of the evening with Hermione, but it seemed as if she was rather occupied, so she sighed.

“Make it quick, Malfoy.”

The man was smiling again, she bloody well wished he would stop doing that, and his hand twitched as if he was going to try to grab hers, but he stilled himself quickly.

Narcissa had never seen him do that before.

He led her through the halls of the dungeon for a while before they reached the stairs, which they climbed for a couple of flights.

To be honest, Narcissa didn’t know how high they had gone up, considering what a state of shock she was in. When had Lucius suddenly become not only tolerable, but downright chivalrous?!

“Where are we?” Narcissa asked when the man had stopped walking, standing right in front of a familiar wall.

“Before I let you know, I need to tell you something.”

Something about the tone in his voice was so sickeningly familiar that Narcissa could barely stand it.

“I haven’t been honest with you. I don’t want to marry you because of our parents or our families. I don’t want to marry you as some type of bargain. I was too scared to let you know how I felt, and I hid it behind my cold exterior. You made me want to be a better man, and it scared me. But I wanted to make you loved, so I sent you letters whenever I could.”

Narcissa’s head was spinning, and she took a step back, hitting the wall.

“You once told me that you felt trapped by this life,” Narcissa’s head shot up at the words, but he didn’t seem to notice, still staring at her with those earnest eyes. Eyes that shouldn’t have been gray. “And I-”

Eyes that should have been brown.

An earnest smile that should have been on a beautiful face.

“I never told you that.”

Lucius froze.

“W-what? I mean, of course you did!”

“I never told you that.”

Narcissa took a step closer to the man—to the woman— who was standing in front of her.

“You…”

“Gryffindor,” Narcissa’s voice was low and her eyes were filled with an emotion that Hermione didn’t recognize.

It sent a shiver down her spine and she took a step back.

“What?”

“Lucius never heard me say that.”

“Yes, he did!” Hermione insisted.

Narcissa smirked.

“Now why would he be speaking in the third person?”

Hermione’s eyes widened, and Narcissa smirked wider.

Narcissa stepped forward again, causing Hermione to bump into the wall, which opened up into the room of requirement.

They both tumbled inside, the door falling shut behind them, and Narcissa let her head fall on top of Hermione’s chest, though she supposed that at the moment it wasn’t truly hers.

“Cissy-”

Narcissa hummed and pushed herself up a bit, staring down at Hermione.

“As much as I appreciate your company, I’d prefer to be looking at your face rather than his.”

Hermione blushed and muttered something, her skin twisting and changing to her that of her own.

“Hm,” Narcissa muttered, “I suppose that wasn’t your wand then.”

Hermione went crimson.

“Listen, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, and-”

“Yes, I assumed there was,” Narcissa cut her off, not moving away from her, “and now you’ve stumbled over your own words and somehow managed to give me a very real, very personal love confession while forgetting who you were supposed to be. Am I correct?”

Hermione nodded mutely, staring up at her with a mixture of fear and awe.

“Well, it’s a good thing for you that i much prefer this version of you,” Narcissa said, leaning down toward the other witch.

Hermione felt a gentle hand on her face while legs settled on the ground brushing against her own.

She shouldn’t do this.

But as her eyes met Narcissa’s, her reasons fell away like sand through her fingers. Lips met her own, and she wasn’t sure who had closed the distance.

Narcissa cupped her face with reverence, her grip light yet strong, as if she were afraid that Hermione might slip away. Hermione moved her own hand up, setting it on Narcissa’s waist.

Hermione was sitting up now, not noticing as the room changed around the two of them. Her free hand reached up and wrapped around Narcissa’s back, pulling her closer and attempting to meld to the other witch’s body.

For once in Hermione’s life, her mind had stilled and a single thought filled it.

Narcissa.

She didn’t worry about what she had to do, about the future, about the present, or even about breathing.

All that mattered was the woman pressed against her.

Narcissa broke the kiss first, and Hermione watched her with a loving gaze.

“Woah,” Hermione said, realizing how cheesy the line was after she had said it.

Narcissa laughed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Hermione nodded at the words, wondering if it would be alright for her to lean in for another kiss.

“I love you,” Narcissa whispered, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s neck.

“I love you, too,” Hermione said.

It was only after the words left her mouth that she realized just how much she had messed up.

She’d come here to help Draco’s parents get together, but now she was seated in the room of requirements with Narcissa in her lap kissing her way down her neck.

Yeah, that was a mistake. Of, well, not a mistake, but.. yeah, a mistake.

It was hard for Hermione to think of other words for mistake when Narcissa was kissing her, alright?! Leave her alone.

Draco.

Was he okay? Was he…

Hermione’s resolve strengthened.

Narcissa wasn’t going to remember her, remember this, so there would always be another chance.

For now?

Well, Hermione was going to let herself enjoy the present, something she hadn’t done since she couldn’t remember when.

“Mione?” Narcissa breathed, pulling away just slightly. She set her head against Hermione’s chest, looking around the room.

Hermione kissed the top of her head, running a hand through her hair.

“Yes?”

“Why did you do it?”

“Well, because I really quite fancy you and thought you had very nice lips.”

Narcissa scoffed, though Hermione could hear the smile in her voice.

“I meant… why did you pretend to be him?”

“That’s… complicated.”

Narcissa’s gaze wandered, but it snapped to attention when she started to realize several details of the room.

It started with a copy of Hogwarts: A History that was set on the bookshelf to her right.

What edition did that say?

Why, the fourth edition had been released only last year. Why did that one say the sixth?

She saw another book, one she didn’t recognize, and saw a date written across the side.

1984.

Narcissa felt Hermione’s chest rumbling against her head, indicating that the other witch was speaking, but she didn’t hear her.

“Hermione?”

The other witch fell silent, a clear indication for her to continue.

“What year is it?”

Hermione stiffened, and the hand running through her hair stilled completely.

“Cissy?”

“I asked what year it is.”

“Are you all right? Did you hit your head?”

Narcissa pushed herself away from Hermione, gently, and was about to speak, but her gaze was drawn upward.

Hermione followed her eyes and her blood ran cold.

Above their heads, there was the very time turner that Hermione and Draco had so desperately searched for the first day they had arrived.

Hermione had never seen a worst sight.

“Cissa-”

“What year is it… for you?”

Hermione was silent for a long time, and Narcissa watched tears growing in her eyes. She felt them mirrored in her own.

“You and I both know where this conversation is going to lead,” Hermione said, her voice barely a whisper as it hung in the air between them. “And the moment we start it, there’s no going back.”

Narcissa’s heart sank, her suspicions confirmed.

“But right now, we’re here,” Hermione reached her hand up and caressed her face, “in this room that can be anything we need it to be. So, right now, why can’t it just be quiet?”

Narcissa reached her hand up and wiped away Hermione’s tears.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Narcissa ran her finger down Hermione's chest reverently.

There hadn't been a word said since she'd agreed to Hermione's terms. Her mind had been silent for a while, content to be with Hermione, but now she had countless questions.

Hermione, as if sensing Narcissa's thoughts, tightened her grip around her waist.

The pair was underneath the blanket, the bookshelves towering over them as the time turner leered down.

"Do you know me?" Narcissa asked.

"I'd like to think so, considering I love you," Hermione replied.

Her voice was slightly scratchy, aggravated in the way it could be after hours of not speaking.

Narcissa still found her voice enticing.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know, and I do."

Narcissa pulled closer to Hermione, listening to her heartbeat from her place on her chest.

"And I suppose there's a reason that you and Draco were pushing Lucius and I together."

"There is."

"So Draco is from the same time as you?"

Hermione nodded.

"How do we know each other?"

"Family friends, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"It's... complicated."

"You really are my little Gryffindor, aren't you?"

Hermione laughed.

"I'm taller than you, you know."

"You didn't deny the Gryffindor part."

"I didn't."

"And Draco?"

"He's a Slytherin."

"That's not what I meant."

Hermione sighed and ran her free hand down her face.

Narcissa caught it in her own, threading their fingers together.

"You know each other."

"Are you still in Hogwarts?"

"We graduated four years ago, if you can call it that."

"What does that mean?"

"It's... complicated."

"That's the second time you've told me that."

"Sorry."

"Has anyone ever told you that you apologize too much?"

Hermione smiled tiredly.

"I think I've heard that before."

"When are you from?"

"The future."

"I gathered that, yes."

Hermione didn't seem to want to say.

"Why did you try to set Lucius and I up?"

Hermione took so long to respond that Narcissa was starting to think she wasn't going to.

"In my time, you're married. Or, well, you were. Not so much anymore, I suppose."

Narcissa stilled, her breath catching, and Hermione pulled her closer.

“And you had a son.”

Narcissa held tighter to Hermione.

“And I knew that you wouldn’t want to marry him, as soon as I got to know you, but… I know how happy he meets you, and I assumed you’d want him no matter what.”

Narcissa wondered how happy he made her. Was it happy enough to let Hermione go? Was it happy enough to let this moment pass? She knew it was the right thing to do, that she had to, but was it what she wanted?

“I do?”

“More than the world itself.”

“Tell me about him.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, though she wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but was interrupted by loud knocking on the door.

Hermione jumped, instinctively pulling Narcissa closer to her chest.

She fumbled, trying to grab her wand, which she usually kept in her pocket, but… well, she wasn’t entirely sure where her pocket had gone, and she had to do a wand less spell to summon her wand.

-

Draco impatiently tapped his foot against the ground, arms crossed.

Finally, the room of requirements opened up to reveal-

“Granger?!” Draco hissed. “What are y-… is your shirt on backwards?!”

Hermione flushed a dark shade of red before waving him inside.

Draco irritably stalked into the room, not bothering to look around after he saw his mother standing in front of him, looking nervous.

“Granger, you weren’t supposed to-”

“I presume there were plenty of things she wasn’t supposed to do,” Narcisss drawled, “though she seems to be quite the rule-breaking time traveler.”

Hermione glared at Narcissa.

“You told her?!” Draco cried.

“No!” Hermione defended. “She figured it out!”

“Oh, that’s believable, Granger! Because every bloody day of my bloody life when I’m talking to my friends I just randomly turn to them and go ‘hey, by the way, you’re not from the future, right? And that friend of yours, he’s not my son, is he?’ That’s not a common question, Hermione!”

Hermione cringed, her gaze immediately shooting to Narcissa.

Narcissa was completely still.

“Wait…”

“She didn’t know quite everything yet, Draco.”

“You’re my son?!” Narcissa shrieked. “Oh no, no, no, no…”

“Well that makes me feel bloody wonderful,” Draco muttered.

Hermione would have comforted him, but she had a feeling that she needed to keep her space from him at the moment.

“That means…”

“That you marry Lucius, yes,” Draco said, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, I help you with the divorce, we get a cake, you cheer and redecorate the mansion-”

But Narcissa wasn’t looking at her son.

“Am I a predator?!”

“What?!” Hermione and Draco cried.

“Oh Merlin, how old do you remember me?!”

“Mother, everyone ages, and you do it with grace! There’s nothing to-”

“Draco,” Hermione interrupted awkwardly, “that’s… not why she’s worried.”

“Oh Merlin you really did shag my mom!”

Hermione was deathly silent while Narcissa turned paler than she thought possible.

“I told you I thought your mum was hot,” Hermione muttered, but her voice carried through the whole room.

Narcissa glanced at Hermione, who gave her a consoling smile.

Draco retched in the background.

“And here I was worried that you were interested in his mother,” Narcissa muttered.

Hermione grinned and took a step closer to the other witch.

“She’s the only one you’d have to worry about,” Hermione said.

“Do not snog my mother in my presence!” Draco snapped.

“Then don’t be in the presence,” Hermione said.

Draco gaped.

“Don’t talk to my son like that,” Narcissa said playfully.

Hermione reached out and grabbed Narcissa’s hand, squeezing it.

“I need to speak with Draco for a moment.”

Narcissa nodded, looking a bit out of it herself, though to be fair Hermione didn’t blame her for that.

Hermione walked across the room, standing beside Draco and beginning to whisper.

“Listen, Draco, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean-”

“Do you love her?”

Hermione was taken aback.

“Of course!”

“Are you going to take care of her? Love her, no matter what?” Hermione tried to cut in, and Narcissa was looking up now to listen as Draco’s voice rose. “Will you find her the moment we get home and hold her, never let her go? Will you treat her better than you’ve ever treated anyone? Will you make the years that she would wait for you worth it and more?”

Hermione nodded, throat closing up as tears sprang to her eyes.

“Yes,” she cleared her throat, “and if I could, I would never leave this room. I’d wait here until we were too old to move and died in each other’s arm. My room of requirements is sustained with only her in it. But she doesn’t have to wait for me. I’d rather know that she’s happy without me than have her alone until I’m there.”

Hermione felt a hand on her arm, and she jumped.

She had forgotten Narcissa was there.

“I’d wait forever to have another moment with you.”

Draco was glad the room of requirements gave him a pair of noise canceling earmuffs, and he put them on, turning around.

Bloody Granger bloody shagging his mother.

“But you don’t have to be with older me. Find someone your own age, you don’t have to be tied to me.”

“Narcissa, I love you. Any and every you.”

Narcissa surged up and connected their lips, holding Hermione around the shoulders. Hermione latched onto her waist and pulled her a bit higher into the air so that she had better access.

“Okay, that’s enough. Hermione, I saw the time turner, we need to get going.”

“Draco, you just told me to romance your mother correctly, let me do it.”

Narcissa buried her head in Hermione’s shoulder.

“Cissy?”

“Hmm?”

“If I could just stay for one more day, would you stay too? Could we just… forget everything? Stay here until we couldn’t anymore?”

“I’d do nothing and everything with you, Hermione. But you’re my Gryffindor. You’re brave enough to go through this. And me? Your bravery will carry me through.”

Hermione grabbed Narcissa, holding on as if the moment she let go the woman would be lost to her forever.

But it wasn’t forever.

It was just… well, for Hermione? It would likely only be a couple of minutes.

For Narcissa?

Hermione held her tighter.

“On the fifteenth day of October, 2000… be in the Ministry of Magic.”

Draco had grabbed the time turner, and he was, rather awkwardly and impatiently, waiting for Hermione to finish.

“Where will you be?” Narcissa asked.

Hermione reached one hand up and tapped her chest.

“I’ll be right there. Always.”

Hermione gave her one last kiss, hoping it could stand the rest of time, before she stepped back and grabbed Draco’s hand.

“I know,” the pair disappeared, “I know you will.”

-

Narcissa stepped out of the room of requirements feeling as if she had been in a fever dream. She moved on autopilot, not completely in control of her actions, and returned to the dungeon.

She saw Lucius in the common room and confidently strode up to him, grabbing is hand.

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

He followed her excitedly, not expected the memory wipe he was about to receive.

To be fair, none of her classmates expected it when she and Dumbledore destroyed their memories of her son and her beloved.

The years passed slowly, though they seemed to speed up when she finally saw Draco with her own two eyes. When she got to hold him and understand the unusual connection she had always felt between them.

It was odd, sometimes, thinking about the two. She sometimes wondered if it had happened, if Hermione had been real, or if it had been a psychotic break, perhaps even a true fever dream.

But the lingering memory of Hermione’s lips on hers were impossible to deny, and she found herself on hard days wondering where little Hermione was.

Perhaps she was learning to read, perfecting the task that she would become so engrossed in.

Narcissa was glad she was the older one, was glad that she was the one that had to wait. There were a few reasons for this. On the selfless side, she was happy that the woman she loved didn’t have to go through this. On the selfish side, in her darkest moments, she remembered that, for Hermione, no time would have passed. That for Hermione she would have been holding her tight and whispering her love into her ears.

As she watched her son grow, in her weakest moments, she wondered if Hermione would still want her when she saw her again. She hoped she would, hoped that she wouldn’t mind the awkwardness of the woman she loved aging so drastically, nor the awkwardness of dating the mother of one of her closest friends.

The first year of Draco’s schooling at Hogwarts was a relief. He came home and ranted about his enemies, about a “Potter” a “Weasley” and… her Granger.

She wasn’t surprised that Hermione and Draco weren’t close at first, after all she knew that both had a lot of growing up to do, but she was happy to know she hadn’t invented the name Hermione Granger on a dark night in a lonely dungeon.

As the years passed, she celebrated the fifteenth of October as if it were a birthday. Or, perhaps more accurately, an Independence Day.

She saw Hermione Granger everywhere in the papers, and she hoarded every issue that she could get her hands on like a dragon with gold.

Every day that passed was one less until she could be held in Hermione’s arms and melt into her kiss.

She knew it was silly, truly, to worry about her Gryffindor. After all, she knew how Hermione would end up when they met again. And yet she was terrified every time Hermione was in danger.

But now she was safe and Narcissa was divorced and she was walking into the Ministry and she felt someone bump into her.

They bumped into her back, and she let out an embarrassing sound of shock before strong arms wrapped around her.

She melted into the embrace, recognizing the feel of the arms around her waist and the scent of old parchment and books.

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione said, pulling Narcissa to her feet, “I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.”

Narcissa tensed a little at the voice.

It was so close, yet not her.

“Ma’am, are you-”

Narcissa turned and took the woman in for the first time in years.

Although Hermione looked exactly like her Gryffindor, sounded like her, and was almost her… Narcissa knew it wasn’t.

That fond look in her eyes wasn’t there.

Narcissa noticed Hermione taking her in, eyes widening slightly before darting down her figure.

She supposed her Gryffindor hadn’t been lying when she spoke of Draco’s mother. The thought was far too relieving and exhilarating.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione’s voice hitched before she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I-”

Narcissa cut the younger woman off by grabbing her arm gently. Hermione seemed to instinctively relax at the touch.

“It’s no problem, Ms. Granger,”  Narcissa allowed herself to fully take in the woman that she’d only seen in her dreams. Narcissa was proud that she didn’t seem to have forgotten any details.. “And it’s Ms. Black again.”

Hermione seemed distracted, by Narcissa, before she jumped to respond.

“Oh… oh! My apologies.”

Narcissa smiled fondly.

“You always have apologized too much, dear.”

It sounded familiar, but she didn’t feel as if she had pushed it too far.

“I’ve… been told that, yes.”

There was a beat of silence, and Narcissa was glad to find that Hermione hadn’t pulled her arm out of her grasp.

“What, uh,” Hermione cleared her throat again and rubbed her neck with the hand Narcissa wasn’t slowly drifting toward, “what are you doing here?”

Narcissa chuckled.

“I’m not exactly sure, actually,” Narcissa said, swaying back and forth slightly. She was somewhat smug when Hermione followed the motion with her gaze.

“I’m here to see someone,” Narcissa elaborated, “at least, I think so.”

Her Gryffindor hadn’t specified.

“Do you need company?””

Narcissa shook her head quickly, pulling her hand away. She missed the feel of Hermione’s touch.

“No, I’m sure you have more important things to attend to, Ms. Granger.”

Like, hopefully, be pulled back in time.

“Hermione.”

Narcissa smiled slightly.

“Well, Hermioine,” the name rolled off her tongue with love, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, but you have other things to attend to.”

She couldn’t very well steal Gryffindor from her younger self.

Hermione nodded and coughed into her hand.

“Right, well…”

“Until next time.”

“Yeah,” Hermione breathed, “next time.”

Narcissa took a seat at the bench beside her.

She had waited this long. She could wait just a little while longer.

Chapter Text

Draco hit the ground running, quite literally. Unlike Hermione, he had been prepared to arrive in the Department of Mysteries. He had other things to attend to. So when Hermione hit the ground and fell to a heap of limbs, Draco landed on his feet like a lithe cat before sprinting out of the room.

He navigated the halls with ease, perhaps using more agility now than he'd ever shown on the Quidditch field, and threw open the door. Dozens of workers turned when they saw him running full speed through the hallways, but he didn't care. He had a mission.

Narcissa sat up straight, hearing thunderous footsteps headed her way. She expected to find Hermione, but instead was met with her own son racing by. She stood in a rush, hurrying after him as he navigated the twists and turns of the halls to avoid hitting any of his colleagues.

Narcissa stepped outside, distantly registering that it was raining lightly around her.

"Draco!" she called.

Her son turned, almost tripping over his own feet at the familiar voice, and rolled his eyes.

"Just wait here for Granger, I have other things to do," he hesitated for a moment before his gaze softened. "Congratulations."

With that, he stepped out of the ministry completely and apparated to an unknown destination.

Narcissa was in a state of shock at the words.

If Draco knew, that meant...

Narcissa was frozen in place, letting the steadily increasing rain to pelt her from all sides. The area around the Ministry was usually dry and even busy, but with the rain there was now a small stream that passed by a few feet behind her, creating a gentle rushing sound that filled the air.

The wind rustled the trees to the side, and she wondered if she should go back instead to stay dry, but she couldn't make herself move.

-

Hermione, slightly dazed, pushed herself to her feet, looking around.

That had been real, right? It had to have been.

Considering the fact that Draco ran off at full speed without checking on her, she supposed that it more than likely was.

It took her a moment to shake herself out of her stupor, but when she had, she scrambled, gracelessly, to her feet and hurried to the door. It had just fallen shut a moment ago after Draco had opened it, and she slammed it against its hinges in her haste.

She distantly wondered if she and Draco would break the door before the day was through. She didn't really care.

She dashed through the hall, bumping into a few people on her way, and skidded to a stop when she found herself at the bench she had last seen present-day Narcissa at.

She saw that the bench was, regretfully, empty, but heard the echoing of heels against the ground.

Her head shot up at the sound and she caught sight of familiar flowing blond hair.

Hermione raced out of the Ministry, not bothering to acknowledge the people calling after her.

What she first saw was Draco disappear, but a moment later she was met with the perfect form of Narcissa.

She slowed down as she approached, the rain drenching her already rain-soaked face.

Hermione wasn't sure what to do. She knew she wanted to hold Narcissa and never let her go, nfto never stop telling her how much she loves her. But for Narcissa it had been decades. This has to be perfect for her.

But what should she say to make the moment everything that Narcissa had, hopefully, been waiting so long for worth it.

But when Narcissa started to turn, having heard footsteps, Hermione could only think of one thing to say.

"I remember everything now," she whispered.

Despite her quiet words and the noisy rain around them, Narcissa heard the words she'd been waiting a lifetime to hear.

She closed the distance between them in two quick strides, grabbing onto Hermione's face and chin, clutching her tightly. Hermione's s arm instinctively wrapped around her waist while the other cradled her face.

Narcissa connected their lips and leaned into the kiss.

Despite the rain, the two stayed standing outside, not caring what happened around them.

 Narcissa refused to let go and wanted to be closer to Hermione, resulting in her hoping into the air and wrapping her legs around Hermione's waist.

Hermione made a sound of shock at the action, but she steadied the two of them while still cradling Narcissa's face with her free hand.

When they finally had to break apart to breathe, Narcissa stared at Hermione lovingly.

"That alone was more than worth the wait," she breathed.

Hermione stroked Narcissa's face.

"Well, I intend to ensure that is was everyday."

"I like the sound of that."

Hermione pulled her impossibly closer and kissed her again.

The two stood there, silent in their reconciliation, unaware that there were mow countless bystanders that were watching their reconnection.

They didn't notice the whispers and gasps of shock until a loud voice all but screamed.

Narcissa pulled back, regretfully, and placed her chin on Hermione's shoulder so that she could see who had made the interrupting noise.

When she saw them, she scowled quite darkly.

"What do you think about getting out of here?" Narcissa whispered, breath tickling Hermione's ear.

"That sounds amazing."

Narcissa smirked and the two disappeared from the sight of the crowd.

-

Hermione found herself inside the Malfoy Mansion, Narcissa still wrapped around her waist.

Narcissa slowly stood on her own, making Hermione frown, before she reached out and grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her through the halls.

"I wanted to show you something."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Narcissa swatted her arm.

Narcissa pushed open a door, blocking Hermione's view of it with her hand for a moment.

"After you left, I couldn't stop thinking of how Draco said I redecorated with him after I got divorced. So...," Narcissa smiled gently and Hermione melted.

Narcissa revealed the room, and Hermione's breath caught.

She recognized it, had even spent hours in it. Except it had been at Hogwarts then.

There was the same pristine bed surrounded by countless books and shelves with a stationary at the side.

It was their room of requirements remade.

"I couldn't get every book that was in the room," Narcissa gave her an apologetic look, "but most of them are here. If there's one you want that's missing I-"

Hermione interrupted her with a gentle kiss, pulling her close.

"It's perfect," she said when they separated, "you're perfect . This is perfect."

Narcissa hesitated.

"Almost perfect."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Ms. Skeeter is most certainly going to write an article about a Slytherin taking advantage of a young Gryffindor."

"Let her write it."

Narcissa snickered.

"What, you're not going to threaten her?"

"I believe it's the Slytherin's job to do that."

"But you're my brave Gryffindor."

Hermione was about to respond, but Narcissa interrupted by putting a finger on her lips.

"This room can't be anything we need," Narcissa whispered, "but it can be quiet."

Hermione flushed and grinned, nodding.

-

There was a knocking on the front door, and Narcissa groaned.

"Not again."

"Hmm?" Hermione hummed, holding Narcissa's hand to her mouth as she kissed it.

"He really can't stop himself from interrupting, can he?"

"At least this time we have all the time in the world."

Narcissa grinned.

"Yes, and I suppose I would like to know why he ran off," Narcissa mused.

Hermione nodded in agreement.

The two went to the front door, Hermione making sure that her shirt was not backwards after the fiasco earlier, and Narcissa tried not to laugh at the image.

When the door opened, Draco was grinning… that is, until he saw Hermione, upon which his smile dropped.

“Mother… Granger.”

Hermione rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly before giving him a smile. Narcissa rolled her eyes.

“There you are, I was worried sick when you ran off!” Narcissa admonished.

“Not worried enough to come after me, I see.”

“You told me not to!” Narcissa hissed, trying to keep herself from blushing.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“Where did you go?” Hermione asked as the door swung completely open.

She was met with quite a surprising sight. On either side of Draco, there stood a beaming, and familiar, figure.

On Draco’s left, holding his hand, was none other than Harry Potter. Things clicked into place for Hermione at that moment. Why Draco had panicked so much about the Potters breaking up, what he’s wanted Hermione to tell “them…”

But what didn’t make sense why was Harry was holding Draco’s hand. After all, Harry was with-

Ginny grinned, looking slightly smug, and waved at Hermione.

“Heard you had quite the adventure,” Ginny said, setting her head on Draco’s shoulder as she played with the sleeve of his robe.

“And without me!” Harry cried, sounding offended.

Hermione snorted.

“Not to mention a conquest,” Ginny wiggled her eyebrows.

“Gin, gross!” Draco admonished, making a face of disgust.

Narcissa smirked and set her chin on Hermione’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist.

Hermione flushed.

“I can’t believe you really shagged his mum, Mione,” Harry said, shaking his head in wonder.

Hermione glared at him.

“And what about you guys?” Hermione tried to turn the attention off of Narcissa and herself. “You seem pretty chummy.”

“Well, someone finally had the guts to ask us out,” Ginny said, wrapping an arm around Draco so that she could rest her hand on Harry’s upper arm.

“Just took him almost not being born, didn’t it?” Harry asked.

Draco scoffed, but there was a light blush on his face.

“Hermione, how did you put up with these two for so many years?” Draco asked, trying to sound irritated.

“Differently than you’re handling them, that’s for sure,” Hermione muttered, making Narcissa snicker from her place behind her.

Draco flushed.

“Granger, you say one more innuendo and I’m going to-”

“Dear, don’t talk to your future mother-in-law like that!” Ginny admonished, smirking.

Draco gagged in disgust.

“Gin, doesn’t that make her our future mother-in-law?” Harry asked.

Hermione started coughing and Narcissa patted her back comfortingly.

“Is that alright?” Narcissa whispered, running a hand down Hermione’s back.

“Alright? It’d finally give me validation for mothering these three all these years,” Hermione said.

“Well,” Harry grinned, “we just wanted to say congratulations!”

“Also Draco wanted to make sure that you were treating his mother right,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

“I’d say so,” Narcissa said, kissing Hermione’s shoulder.

“Ew,” Draco muttered.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Hey, Mione, if you’re dating her just to be able to tell Draco you shagged his mum, you can tell me,” Ginny said with a wink.

Draco’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“No, but I’d say that is somewhat of a perk,” Hermione said.

Narcissa smacked her shoulder, trying not to laugh.

Hermione relaxed slightly. It seemed as if, despite everything that had happened, their little group was going to be okay.

-

Hermione decided that she really did enjoy her new life.

It was a change, that’s for sure, but a good one.

It turned out that Rita Skeeter did not write a scandalous article about the pair and not because Hermione or Narcissa threatened her (it was actually Ginny on Draco’s behalf, but that was just semantics, the point was that neither of the pair had to threaten her). However, almost everyone in the wizard ing world was aware that the two were now together. Hermione had gotten a myriad of comments and questions from friends and coworkers, but only a handful had gotten truthful responses from her as to how the pair had fallen for one another (the handful consisting of the Weasleys, Luna, and a very confused Professor McGonagall that had tried to see if Hermione was under the influence of a love spell).

It had been interesting dating the mother of her friend, but overall it seemed as if things had worked out for the best for all of them.

Even during family dinners where the five would awkwardly try to make conversation before Ginny would make some inappropriate comment and everything would devolve into madness.

But, despite everything, Hermione found that she was happier now than she had ever been, and it had everything to do with the beautiful woman that stood in front of her as she walked down the aisle.