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Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the books that you may recognise. 

The Battle of Hogwarts.

2nd May 1998. 

Draco couldn’t quite comprehend what he was witnessing. He knew on some level it was happening, but his brain couldn’t quite catch up with his eyes. 

Voldemort and Harry had circled each other in the Great Hall. The revelations had been illuminating. Snape had been Dumbledore’s man since the moment the Dark Lord had started to hunt down Lily Potter. 

Dumbledore had chosen his own death. There was talk of Horcruxes. Draco had blanched. Even his own father would not have gone near them. They were the foulest and most warped magic in their world. He heard Harry tell the Dark Lord that the trio had destroyed them all. There was also some talk of the Elder wand.

Draco had heard his name mentioned and had felt the bile rise in his throat with the casual way Voldemort had implied he would take the allegiance from himself. Harry now had the Elder wand’s loyalty when he had taken it by force from himself at the fiasco at Malfoy Manor. 

Draco glanced towards his mother, who was staring at him with deep concern. 

Harry and Voldemort had stopped circling each other. The moment came that they had all been waiting for. 

‘Expelliarmus,’ Harry had shouted. 

This was the precise moment the wheels came off the Light side. 

‘Incancerous.' 

Everyone had been expecting the killing curse. 

Draco watched Harry’s eyes widen with confusion as thick ropes bound him tightly. 

For an infinite moment, nothing happened as Draco’s grey eyes flitted towards Voldemort, whose body was beginning to contort and shake, changing form in front of them as his heart plunged. 

'Polyjuice.’

Draco’s stretched mind could just about make that connection as he watched in disbelief as one of the most sadistic witches he knew appeared in front of them to gasps from the crowd. 

‘Well, well, well,’ Dolores said in her snide voice. ‘Mr Potter. We meet again.' 

'You;-' Harry began, but Umbridge slapped him across his face with malice. 

‘Enough,’ she spat. 

Voldemort appeared, swinging a time-turner in his long, thin fingers. It was on a silver chain around his neck. 

His glowing red eyes surveyed the room as menacing magic filled the air. Draco felt his body become sluggish as his own eyes flitted around. The others also looked to be struggling with the effects of this dark magic.  

Dolores curtsied to the Dark Lord and handed him the elder wand, which he then brandished around the room. 

'Petrificus Totalus,' he said in a mild voice as he wielded the wand in every direction.

The spectators in the room all felt themselves go rigid. They could barely move. The power of the wand was immense. Combined with Voldemort's natural mind control and ability to bend others to his will, they had all succumbed to his power. 

Draco clenched his jaw. His grey eyes met Hermione's as he couldn’t help the look of despair pass his features. Her face had paled alarmingly. 

That was when Draco knew it was all over. That look of defeat they had both shared spoke volumes. Hermione had always been fierce. She had taken no nonsense from any of them. They had been on opposite sides of this war for years.  

Hermione had known he had his doubts about Voldemort. Their eyes had met discreetly too many times without any slurs being exchanged between them. He had started to see something other than hostility and anger in her eyes. He had seen sympathy in them. She had seen the worry in his own eyes. 

The childlike quarrels they had been known for had gradually dissipated. There was only a simple sort of wariness now between them. Draco had seen the cautious way Harry would consider him. During the Inquisition squad era, his behaviour had him now squirming with embarrassment. He had been so sure he was doing the right thing at the time. Draco had been adamant that his father was noble. 

No one likes to admit they have been wrong about something, and Draco was no exception. He was a young man with a great deal of pride. Still, he had been sorely mistaken, and it had been nauseating to admit. 

Harry was still tied in those ropes. His emerald eyes stared at Ginny, who had horror etched on her face. 

Draco looked towards a catatonic looking Hermione and grimaced. He may not like Hermione. She certainly didn’t like him, and he could admit that was for valid reasons, but those looks they had shared in the last two years had conveyed more than a thousand words could. 

A world where Voldemort was in charge didn’t bode well for anyone with a shred of decency. Draco had endured a gut full of the pureblood ideology by the time Snatchers had captured the trio and dragged them to Malfoy Manor. 

He hadn't wanted to identify them. They were all that stood in the way of that monster and his complete domination of the Wizarding World. He had refused to confirm his identity. He had wanted to plant doubt in their minds. He had tried the only thing he could think of to buy them some time to get themselves out of the Manor. It had worked. 

Dobby, the old Malfoy House-elf that Harry had freed, had rescued them, and the Malfoys' failure to secure Harry had cost them heavily. The pain of his punishment by the Cruciatus Curse by Voldemort himself still lingered in Draco’s every cell. Still, he'd stood that little bit taller afterwards. For the first time in his life, he had defied the Dark Lord's orders through rebellion. There was still some bravery left in him.

The trio had escaped. He had helped them do that. Draco had given them all hope. He was pissed off that Harry had taken his wand, but given the circumstances, it was better Harry alive than dead. His mother's wand was in his pocket. He had made a half-hearted attempt to get his wand back in the Room of Requirement, but Goyle had set the room on fire. Crabbe hadn't been with them. Voldemort had requested Crabbe's assistance.

The trio had managed to pull them out of the burning room just in time. 

His eyes found Hermione’s again. His mind flashed back to when Bellatrix had tortured her. He had watched helplessly. If Bellatrix knew he had lost his will to fight for the Dark Lord, he knew she wouldn’t hesitate to announce it to the Dark Lord. His parents would have been murdered for his defection. He had stood stony-faced during the whole ordeal. Bellatrix had been obsessed with the sword in Hermione's bag. 

Granger had both repelled and annoyed him at Hogwarts for their first five, very long years. She had always been just that little bit better than him in class. She was opinionated. She could be a bitch to him. He heard her voice in his head. 

'At least none of the Gryffindors had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent.’ 

Draco stared at Hermione as a sterile silence filled the Great Hall. Her eyes looked distraught.  

‘You foul, loathsome, little cockroach.’ 

‘Filthy Mudblood.’ 

‘Twitchy little ferret.’ 

‘I hope it’s Granger.’ 

Those ridiculous, spiteful words to each other echoed in his mind. They had been nothing but antagonistic to each other for five years. When reality seeped into Draco's life in the last two years, he couldn't muster the energy to be hostile to her anymore. It all seemed so irrelevant now.  She, in turn, had reduced her glares towards him substantially. 

It was a testament to how much Draco had seen in his young life that he no longer felt any annoyance towards her. He had seen for himself what the trio was fighting against. Granger was right. He had been wrong. He knew that now.

Luna Lovegood had been the tipping point for Draco. Luna was a gentle soul. Draco had seen the injustice of her treatment in the dungeons, and it had aggravated him more than he could have predicted. This wasn’t a war. It was just cruelty and bullying. There was no honour here. He had felt great relief when he realised Luna had been one of those rescued by Dobby.

He had risked cruel punishment himself by sneaking food and medicine to the Prisoners under his invisibility cloak. Draco had seen too many murders. He hadn't wanted Luna to be another one. 

Too many prisoners had been trapped at Malfoy Manor. Many had died. His family home had been infiltrated with the lowest forms of life. Draco had been questioning the pureblood ideology for months now. He had been raised to believe it was about tradition and elegance. 

He had seen the degenerates for himself. There was nothing here to be proud of. His parents were shadows of their former selves. Crabbe and Goyle were twisted. Truly twisted. Draco had realised he had never truly known them. They were not his friends. They had shown no concern for his parents. They had delighted in their downfall. 

Pansy had been concerned for him at least. Blaise had been a solid presence in his life. 

Draco looked across at his mother, who had turned ashen. 

‘Tut, tut, Narcissa,’ Voldemort murmured. ‘I asked you to do one tiny, little thing for me. You only needed to check and see that the boy was dead.’ 

Draco gave a start at that. Death Eaters were moving silently toward all of them. His eyes could count hundreds of them. They were woefully outnumbered and held rigid by Voldemort. Where had they all come from? 

Lucius could barely turn his head to look at his wife, who stared back defiantly at the Dark Lord. 

‘You've always claimed to support me,’ the Dark Lord murmured. ‘As time has progressed, I have seen for myself just how little the Malfoy family has done for the cause. One has come to suspect that you have been actively working against me. Potter escaped from your Manor. Lucius, you lost something very precious to me.'

Lucius quivered at the memory. His punishment for giving the Horcrux diary to Ginny Weasley had been atrocious. 

'You failed to obtain the prophecy,’ Voldemort said in a dangerously soft voice as he lifted his wand and directed it at Draco's parents.  

The sickly green curse Draco had seen far too much of in recent months flashed across the room as Lucius and then Narcissa fell to the floor, lying ominously still as what was left of Draco's nerve collapsed and his mind screeched to a halt. 

‘Let that be a lesson to my followers that incompetence will not be tolerated.' 

His Death Eaters were now immersed in the Great Hall. 

‘This is the last time Turner in existence,’ the Dark Lord hissed. ‘I adapted it several months ago. It has proved very useful to me. I have been here, there and everywhere. I saw this moment yesterday. I hid from you all. I know all now. I changed the script.' 

Voldemort touched the time turner around his neck as they watched it hanging from the silver chain. 

'Bellatrix, my love. Do come in.’ 

They all gave a jolt when the diabolical witch sauntered into the room. 

‘You were killed,’ Ron managed to speak out in a strangled voice. 

Bellatrix cackled.

‘Your mother killed an imperiused muggleborn,’ she gloated.  

All eyes turned to the place where they thought the vilest woman they had known had perished. The features of the witch on the stone floor had changed. 

‘Mrs Cattermole,’ Ron whispered. 

Voldemort turned to a frenzied-looking Harry. 

'After our debacle in the Ministry, I knew I had to take you more seriously. The prophecy was correct. You did have the power to vanquish me. I have invaded your mind frequently. I decided to turn the tables. I sent fake images into your mind. They were very convincing. The real Horcruxes have been placed in secure areas that only I can reach. I followed the events that had already happened to lure you all here and then gave the ending my special twist. The connection between you and me is broken now, Harry. You are nothing special.’ 

‘We destroyed them,’ Harry growled.  

‘You destroyed very realistic copies. They were charmed to call you and only you. Nagini, come to me.' 

Harry had become dumbstruck as the gruesome snake slithered in, slid up Voldemort’s arm, and wrapped itself around her Master. Draco watched with incredulity at this macabre scene. His gaze flitted once more to his parents' bodies. 

‘I must commend you all on your bravery.'

His bestial face belied the patronising tone as he sauntered over to Hermione, then lifted his bony fingers to her face as she flinched.  

‘Such a courageous Lioness,' he said in a way that sent chills down all their spines. 'You stuck by his side to the very end. I saw you through his eyes.’ 

‘Don’t touch me.' 

Draco kept his gaze fixed on his parents and realised Voldemort had never intended to let them live.  

The ground seemed to slip away from his feet as he felt his body hover in the air. He couldn’t move. The Death Eaters had them surrounded. Everyone who had opposed the Dark Lord stood frozen by this warped magic. 

Voldemort smirked at Hermione.

‘I shall not kill you today. I want you to beg me for death. That your ego ever thought itself mighty enough to take your betters on is beyond shocking. Your arrogance is unsurpassed. I shall enjoy breaking you.’ 

Ron went bright red.

‘Leave her alone,’ he spat out. 

Voldemort gave a snigger. 

‘Mr Weasley. I see you're back from your self-imposed exile. How sweet of you to defend your mudblood sweetheart.’

Draco's shredded nerves jangled as Ron met the same fate as his parents, and his tall body crumpled to the floor. 

Voldemort gave a sickly giggle as his list of victims grew even longer. 

'Blood traitors will not be tolerated.' 

With the tip of his wand, Voldemort pushed Hermione and watched her fall backwards, and Draco winced as she hit the stone floor with a thud.  

‘She shall be a source of much amusement for me in the future.’

Draco felt sick at the implications of his diabolical intentions. 

The Dark Lord kept swinging that little time-turner back and forth in a goading fashion. The dark magic permeated the air, keeping them all in a state of stasis.  

They watched him glide over to Harry, who glared back at him defiantly. 

They watched him backhand Harry across the face as his glasses flew off. Voldemort gave a high-pitched giggle that had them cringe. 

Neville managed to force his wand arm up slightly and tried to cast a spell, but Voldemort was faster. They watched in dismay as Neville was the next to be struck down. 

His body went limp as Voldemort kicked him to one side, as his Death Eaters gave him grovelling looks of adulation. 

The Dark Lord brandished the Elder wand in front of all the unwilling spectators. 

'It is now time to become its Master.'

The most powerful wand in the world was pointed at Harry, and not one of them could do a thing to stop it. 

'Avada Kedavra.'  

Draco watched as the world itself seemed to come to a standstill. 

The light left Harry’s emerald eyes as Draco felt the last vestige of hope that this nightmare would soon be over vanish.  

'Never again will anyone question my power.'

The words were spoken quietly, yet everyone heard them. 

Draco felt his wand in his pocket pulsate, yet his mind barely registered this. His gaze turned from Harry, then roamed over the fallen. It was like a dagger to the heart seeing his once proud mother lying defeated on the ground. He turned back to Hermione. She lay helpless on the floor. Voldemort glided casually around the spectators who were struggling to move. 

'My followers. You may kill your enemies at your leisure,' Voldemort announced in a jubilant voice. 

Draco watched in morbid fascination as, one by one, Bellatrix and the Death Eaters systematically brought down what remained of the Order of the Phoenix, as Voldemort's potent magic permeated the room and the Time Turner that had made this slaughter possible swung ominously around his neck. 

The Dark Lord gazed at the students who had been fighting for freedom. 

‘I am a benevolent leader. You will be taught our new regime. You will learn to obey your Lord. I am now and always will be your Master. Any who disobey me will be purged.'  

Haunted eyes stared in bewilderment at the tragedy unfolding before them. This wasn't a battle. This was a massacre. 

Voldemort turned his attention to Draco with a mean look. 

‘Draco Malfoy. Twice you have failed me. Like your parents, you have shown yourself woefully inept when I truly needed your support. Tsk, tsk.’ 

Draco stared into those demonic red eyes, his entire being consumed by numbness. 

‘You failed to kill Dumbledore. You failed to identify Potter. You shall join the mudblood in Azkaban. I have seen the way you look at her. You have compassion for tainted scum. You are weak. You disgust me, therefore you have no value to me.'  

Draco looked around the Great Hall at the carnage. Professor McGonagall was one of the dead. Slughorn and Professor Sprout had joined her. Kingsley. Molly. So many others lay still. His heart clenched with the sight of them all.  

Draco saw Crabbe and Goyle looking at him with malice on their faces. Pansy stood to the side with the same glazed look that was on Draco's face. Blaise was looking at him with regret. 

Voldemort put out his hand as Draco felt pulled towards him. 

‘The Malfoy family are now officially a dead family. If they are to be spoken of, it shall only be with contempt. We are entering a new age. The Age of Voldemort.’

Draco felt those bony fingers press onto his temples as agony ripped through his mind as the Dark Lord leered at him. 

‘This is just the beginning,’ he jeered as Draco trembled. ‘I shall make you endure pain that you could never have conceived of even in your wildest nightmares.' 

Voldemort had a cruel smile on his face as he yanked Draco over to the fallen Hermione and pulled him down to the stone floor. He held him there by his neck as he forced Draco to face her. 

‘Take a good look, Draco. You had it all. Wealth. Property. You had a glorious future under my leadership. Yet, you betrayed me.’ 

Draco felt his head pushed forward to Hermione’s, whose brown eyes stared back at him with agitation. 

‘You still see her as a person, don't you?’ Voldemort sneered. 'You’re an imbecile.’  

Draco could hear the mocking laughter of the Death Eaters all around him as he desperately tried to move back, but the strong, dark magic held him in place. 

‘Now, kiss the abomination. This is the side you chose. That’s it; I want you to get your lips nice and wet.’

Voldemort pushed his head down further as Draco felt a slicing pain go down his shoulder. 

He could feel his wand continue to shudder in his pocket and the time turner grazing his cheek as Voldemort glowered at him. 

He looked down into brown eyes that bore into his own with an intensity that reached into his very soul. 

‘Yes, Miss Granger,’ the Dark Lord boasted. ‘This will be your future. You will now be used only as a mudblood should be for my followers. I suspect they won’t be as reticent as Draco to show you your true place in our new world. You and all the rest of your kind that plague our world will be assured of your new place in our ranks. At the bottom, subservient to your superiors.’ 

Draco could hear the jeers of Crabbe and Goyle, amongst many of the others, at these putrid words. 

A visceral hatred tore through him. His grey eyes looked down apologetically at Granger as she seemed to soften her look towards him. 

When all was at its lowest, a lot of things happened at once. 

His wand was now burning in his pocket. He felt a force surge out of it as Hermione managed to move her own body in response. Draco felt his blood start to move again inside him as Hermione felt her wand begin to shake by its own volition. 

The time turner that was around the Dark Lord's neck was suddenly wrenched off as Hermione and Draco were pushed across the room together by a silent charge and pressed against the stone wall. A bright white light surrounded them both, and then the time turner exploded as blinding, strobing lights flashed everywhere.

Draco grabbed for Hermione in his panic as she clutched tightly to him. The floor they had been standing on collapsed beneath them, and they were both plunged into the thick darkness. Then, the swirling, bright lights enveloped them, forcing them to close their eyes. 

The lights were intense as they spun together through the Vortex. Neither of them could do anything but cling to each other for dear life. 

Hermione was too frightened even to scream. Her mind had ceased to work. All she could think was they were all dead. Harry was dead. Ron was dead—the Order had been decimated. Voldemort had outmanoeuvred them all. They had come so close to ending this. Harry had come within a whisker of finishing the Dark Lord. 

A terrified Hermione clutched at Draco. Since their sixth year, she had seen enough in his eyes to know she was at least safe with him. He had been as horrified as she was with what was happening in their world. Draco was many things, but he wasn't evil. She knew that instinctively. His parents had been slaughtered. He had been right to worry. 

Draco pulled her closer as the Vortex began to emit a sonic sound that deafened the pair. 

Hermione could feel her body contorting as she forced her eyes open. She looked down as their bodies seemed to be merging into each other. 

‘DRACO!’ she screamed. 

His grey eyes widened as they fused into each other, and then their bodies dissolved into pitch-black darkness, and their minds into a fleeting oblivion.

Draco emerged from the depths of his sleep, feeling surprisingly rested. He had a blissful moment of ignorance until it all came flooding back. He sat up in his bed and felt his head spin as he took gulps of air. 

He was in a warm bed. This was a positive. He wasn’t shackled to a damp, cold wall being fed to the Dementors. This was also a positive. With a dawning awakening, he also realised he was very much in a great deal of trouble. 

His hands were not his own. His legs didn’t belong to him. Something essential was missing. Draco stifled a sob. He didn’t know just how much more he could take of any of this. His life had evolved into one long nightmare, and it didn’t look like the ending was even on the horizon.

The harrowing events in the great hall had almost finished him. This must surely be the moment his mind completely snapped. 

He reached up and felt his head. He knew immediately what had happened on contact. All the stress and the strain of the last two years finally reached the surface as Draco's fragile composure finally broke down completely in the most undignified of ways. 

Sobs wracked through his body. 

After some time had passed, he picked up a side mirror and stared at his reflection. Granger was gawping back at him. A broken cry came out of his mouth. His eyes looked around frantically. He could barely make out the calendar through his tears. He could conclude that he was back in 1996.

In the back of his mind, he knew they had a second chance to change things, but as he looked down at himself, he couldn't quite bring himself to think beyond that for now. 

For a very long hour, Draco wept in distress.

He wept for his family and his friends. He wept for the decline of his world. Most of all, he wept for his new situation. 

The drapes around his bed clearly had a silencing charm. He couldn’t hear any noise outside of it. He looked at the familiar red and gold colours of Gryffindor with horror. This started another tirade of tears. He was in the House of Lions. 

It was so unfair. The fucking lot of this was unequivocally, so brutally, so fucking unfair. 

Draco curled up into a little ball as his sobs began to subside. His large, bushy mane was tickling his cheeks. 

Somehow, his soul had ended up in the body of one Hermione Granger. 

A part of Draco wished he were wallowing in that dank cell in Azkaban, awaiting the inevitable killing curse.

On some level, it would have been kinder. 

Meanwhile, down below in the dungeons of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was also emerging from her deep sleep. She sat up ramrod straight with her eyes staring at the silver and green drapes around her bed. 

She knew the moment upon waking what had happened. She could feel it between her thighs. Hermione opened up Draco's mouth and let out an ear-splitting scream. The Muffliato charms on the bed appeared to be working. No one yanked the drapes open. She tried to steady herself. 

Her hands were shaking as she looked down at herself. 

‘NO, NO, NO!’ she gasped.

This couldn’t be happening. This really couldn’t be fucking happening. She knew it was. She had been polyjuiced to look like Harry during his escape from Privet Drive. It had been an incredibly weird thing to live through, even then. Fleur had been in the same boat as her, and they had given each other subtle looks of sympathy at the situation they had both found themselves in. 

That had been for Harry, though. It had been for the Order. It had been for a vital mission, and the odd discomfort had only been temporary. 

Hermione ran her hands through very short blond hair as her mind short-circuited. She pawed at the side table and picked up a mirror, and brought it to her face. 

Draco Malfoy was staring back at her with a dumbstruck expression. 

She had seen their bodies merge in the Vortex. She peered down at hands that were not their own. They were paler and larger than her own. She looked down at her flat chest as she saw some fine blonde hairs there. 

Her eyes looked around frantically and stopped on a calendar.

Saturday, September 21st. 1996. 

Hermione felt a burst of euphoria mixed with dread. The time tuner had somehow sent them back in time. They could change things. A time turner should only be able to take a person back a day. Two days at most, and that was pushing it. This was unprecedented. 

This was also highly illegal and had long been thought impossible. This shouldn't be happening. There was no way they could go to the Ministry to ask for help.  

Hermione took a deep breath. They hadn’t done this on purpose. The time turner had seemed to act of its own accord. 

Voldemort had seen much more than they had realised. He was going to torture and kill them both in Azkaban. It was as good enough a reason as any for breaking magical laws, intentional or not. 

Hermione gulped as she sat on the side of the bed and took a proper look at herself. 

She was wearing expensive silk pyjamas. They looked like something Draco would wear to bed. Hermione shook her head at this inane thought.  

It truly hit her then.

She was in Draco's body. Her chin began to wobble. She had held it together as much as she could, but the last year had taken its toll on her. The disturbing events had been forever etched in her memory. 

A tear rolled down her cheek. Then another one did.

She knew she had a lot to do, but this could wait. She needed to cry as she had never cried before. 

Hermione opened up Draco’s mouth and wailed as she had never wailed before.

It wouldn't be until midday that either of them would venture out of their beds. 

Chapter Text

Draco cautiously sat up and put his now much shorter legs over the side of the bed. It had taken him hours just to get to this point. 

He was past mortified with the path his life had taken. 

By nature, Draco was very particular about his image. He was a very debonair young man. He took pride in his appearance. His suits were all tailored made. He liked expensive cologne and tasteful jewellery. 

He gingerly put his much smaller hands on his new legs. He patted his new stomach and then his arms. He left everything else alone for now. 

With that done, he breathed out a sigh of relief. He generally only saw Hermione in oversized robes. He knew she was capable of scrubbing up well if she spent more than a minute on her appearance. His mind flittered back to the Yule Ball. He mused about that in deep contemplation. She looked very nice that evening. Even Pansy couldn’t find anything to criticise Granger about for once in her life. 

He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen her when she had actually styled her hair. Fortunately, it looked like she was at least in good shape. 

He admonished himself for the ridiculous way he was dealing with this. Draco couldn’t help being vain. Appearances were the bread and butter of being a Malfoy. It was how he had been raised. He needed to look his best at all times, even if he was currently inhabiting someone else's body. 

He had to accept that he was stuck in this body for the foreseeable future, whether he liked it or not. He grimaced. It could be worse. He bit his lip. It really couldn’t. He thought of the horrendous time that they had all endured in the great hall and sighed. He and Hermione had been on a one-way trip to Azkaban and the torture chambers. He inhaled deeply. It could be worse.

Not by much, but they both knew their fates could plummet to even worse depths. He held onto that tiny thread of optimism. He had to for his own sanity. 

Draco stood slowly as he began to adapt to the change of gravity. Hermione was about five-foot five-ish. She was a lot shorter than he was, but taller than many women. 

His legs were shaky as he put his arms out to balance. It was like learning to walk again. His legs felt odd. They had changed shape. His hips were lower. He had a brief flashback to his toddler days and when his mother had been helping him walk on the play mat. 

Draco felt a hot surge of emotion—his mother. Whatever happened, he was getting her as far away from Voldemort as humanly possible. Anywhere but here was better. His dad could be a first-class bastard, but even he had deserved better than what he’d got. 

The Dark Lord was insane. He was evil and insane. It was not a good combination. 

Lucius hadn’t been working against him. He had simply been incompetent.

Draco pursed his lips, Hermione’s lips, in consternation. His father belonged in business meetings. His career was corrupting politicians and doing lots of illicit trade behind closed doors with nefarious individuals.

His father was not an Auror. He was not much of a fighting man. His long hair often got in the way, disturbing his vision when aiming attacking spells. His father didn’t like his locks tied back.

Lucius had told him in confidence that one of his locks has temporarily blinded him when he had been chasing after the Prophecy during the Ministry battle. By the time he had styled it back to perfection, it had cost him valuable seconds, and the consequence of that was that it had cost him the Prophecy. Still, his hair mattered a great deal to Lucius. Draco had understood this implicitly. His own hair was immaculate. 

Draco pushed the bushy mane out of his face with a disgruntled expression. Oh, Salazar. How on earth could she cope with all this hair?

Another chunk of thick hair fell back in his face as he pushed it back again with some irritation. He would be going to the hairdresser's in the very near future. He couldn’t live like this. Things were already bad enough without hauling this bush around on his head all day long. He’d cut it off himself if he had to.

He spied a hairband on the table and pulled the ridiculous amount of hair up and out of the way. That was better. 

He was feeling a little steadier on his feet as he cautiously pulled open the drapes and peered out into the dorm room. He breathed a little easier. It was empty. He knew she shared a dorm with Lavender and Parvati. He closed his eyes to find his inner resilience. For years, their constant giggling, vapid gossip and inane conversations had grated on his nerves. 

Fortunately, Hermione didn’t really spend any time with them, which was for the best. He was not known for holding his tongue. He wouldn’t be able to restrain himself from blurting out scathing comments around them. 

He knew that she did spend a lot of time with Harry, Ron and Ginny. He frowned. Ron was, ugh. Harry was, ugh. He didn’t really know Ginny. Blaise admired the Weasley girl from a distance, but Draco knew Blaise well enough to know he wouldn’t pursue a relationship with the Gryffindor. 

Blaise was neutral in the whole blood war. A fact that had used to irk Draco, but in time, he had grown to appreciate his friend's lack of commitment to the pureblood ideology. Still, Blaise was very much a Slytherin and a snake dating a lion simply wasn’t done. 

Draco thought of Crabbe and Goyle and cringed. Harry and Ron would at least be bearable compared to them. Harry and Ron could be aggressive, but Draco at least knew they weren’t psychotic. He could make it work. Part of being a Slytherin was all about putting a fake face on in uncomfortable situations. He could manage that. They would think he was Hermione. He just had to raise his voice on occasion and boss them about a bit to make it look authentic. Books too. He always needed to be seen carrying books. 

He was quite sure that if they spoke of this to anyone, they would both be put on the first floo to St. Mungos for treatment. If the authorities did believe them, they’d both be on a way ticket to Azkaban for breaking a ton of magical rules about time travel—a fact Hermione was most probably aware of already. 

Draco had to see her. He had to see himself. He was sure she was in the castle. He grimaced. They would need somewhere private. Draco and Hermione did not have cosy little chats together. It would look bizarre to any onlooker and attract the wrong sort of attention. They needed to be discreet. 

He thought of the Room of Requirement. That would be best. It was out of the way, and they wouldn’t be overheard. They needed first to work out how to play this. They needed to see if there was a way back to themselves and then solve the Dark Lord issue. Between the two of them, they might just get somewhere. 

Draco breathed a little easier. At least Hermione was smart. They could figure this out together. 

He felt like a thief as he made his way to the wardrobe. He opened it up and perused it with a fashion-conscious eye. His expression began to falter as it then turned to one of extreme consternation. 

His hand went to his mouth in mortified silence. His mother was a very glamorous woman. Her gowns were gorgeous. Her dresses, sublime. Draco winced at the sight that greeted him. 

Hermione Granger’s entire wardrobe screamed practical and functional. His fingers gently pulled out a jumper. He gave a soft gulp. His own grandmother wouldn’t have been caught dead in this, even if she was just lounging around her own house without any visitors in attendance. 

His eyes grazed over the putrid green colour as he shook his head with disdain. He pulled out another horrendous article with much the same expression. 

Draco felt another sob rise. There must be something in here that was actually fitted and tasteful. 

Half an hour had passed as Draco finally looked down at the pitiful collection of wearable clothing he had salvaged from Hermione’s wardrobe. 

Two tops and one pair of trousers were all that remained. He shook his head with a rueful expression. At least there was the school uniform and the Hogwarts robe to disguise the quantity of fashion faux pas on display here.  

Draco had contemplated incinerating the rest of the reprehensible clothing, but he didn’t want to admit defeat this early on. There was a good possibility that they would swap back, and if he knew anything about women, destroying their clothing would result in open warfare.

He and Hermione needed to start this off on the right foot. Draco clicked his tongue. She could make life very difficult for him if he was an idiot with her life. The word he was looking for was compromise.

He felt a flicker of terror. He needed to be able to compromise with Granger until this was resolved. This was not going to be easy. 

He thought of Pansy and Blaise. To their knowledge, Draco was still Draco.

Pansy and Hermione disliked each other immensely. It was a mutual hatred based on years of insults and put-downs on both sides of enemy lines. Neither of them had ever minded sinking to the other witches' level in the slightest. 

His mind flitted to Crabbe and Goyle. Draco gave a small smirk. Granger was more than equipped to deal with those two morons. If she wanted to end that association with them, she was more than welcome to. 

Blaise had always been non-committal about Granger. He neither liked her nor disliked her. Draco couldn’t recall either of them even speaking one word to each other in the entire time he'd known them. 

He considered his terms to Granger. She would need to be polite to Blaise and Pansy. He would be having her hair cut off into an actual style that a qualified hairdresser recognised. This was not negotiable. He assumed she would have her own terms and conditions. 

His eyes glanced back at the wardrobe with a wary expression. He had a lot of shopping to do. 

He turned towards the bathroom and gulped. He had been putting this off for as long as possible, but it was an emergency now. Draco pulled together what little inner strength he had and made his way towards the ominous room. 

Hermione Granger was having similar problems. She had ventured out from the drapes with great trepidation. Being in a boy's dormitory was not something she had ever thought she would have to endure. It was also the Slytherin dormitory. She glanced around furtively, looking for signs they had been worshipping Satan, but found to her relief; it was actually quite benign. It didn’t look much different to her own dorm. 

She was alone. It was almost time for lunch. She stood up on long legs and held onto the bedpost. Her whole centre of gravity had changed. This was the most surreal thing she had ever endured in her life, and her life had been fraught with oddities. There was that time she had almost turned into a cat. She clenched her jaw as she recalled the tail and whiskers. It still haunted her in the occasional dream. 

Her legs were becoming steadier as she adjusted to the changes. She staggered towards the wardrobe and opened it up. 

Ten tailored suits were all hanging neatly in a row. They were all slightly different shades from each other. She looked across at the compartments. It was immaculate. Everything in here had its place. Draco’s Slytherin robes were hanging next to pristine white school shirts. He had several Slytherin ties in here. She inhaled sharply when she saw his underwear. The harsh reality was sinking in at that sight.

He had plenty of accessories. She lifted an eyebrow. A whole shelf was devoted to the most gorgeous cufflinks she had ever seen. She recognised his Slytherin signet ring that was also on display. 

Another shelf held a variety of colognes. Hermione saw a row of very expensive watches. 

She had accompanied her father once when he had purchased some clothing from a men’s clothing store located on Saville Row. This attention to detail reminded her of that. 

Draco had always been the best-dressed wizard at Hogwarts. He had no challenger in that area. Blaise was also well turned out, but Draco had taken it to the next level. She looked down at his hands. She told her brain to move the fingers. They did move. Hermione was still suffering the aftershocks of the latest in a long line of bizarre happenings in her life. She had full control of Malfoy’s body. She felt her blood chill at the implications. He had full control over her body too. 

Hermione had a wretched look pass her face. She had to play nice. Draco could do permanent damage to her life. 

She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t do anything too malevolent. He wouldn’t be murdering her parents or pushing Ron off the Astronomy tower. Well, certainly not on purpose. But still. Intentionally or not, the situation they were both in was like walking on a tightrope. Both of them could inadvertently wreck the other's life by making stupid mistakes. 

Hermione felt her heart stop as her mind started moving forwards at an alarming rate. 

Ron. They were back in their sixth year. The year that had featured Lavender Brown and Won Won very heavily. 

She felt her legs give way as she sunk back on the bed. It had been a rocky road getting to their first kiss. Ron had a lot of good qualities, but his bad qualities had caused them both a lot of aggravation. He could be insecure and jealous. He had been jealous of how close she was to Harry. The Slytherin Horcrux around his neck had emphasised just how deep that resentment went. 

Hermione frowned at those memories. Harry was like a brother to her. She was like a sister to him. They loved each other. Both of them would follow the other into Hell if it meant saving each other. They had followed each other into Hell.

She considered Harry.  

Harry’s eyes were gorgeous. He was turning into a very good looking man, but Hermione just didn’t get those sort of romantic feelings for him. He could also be very moody at times. A few times, even she’d had to step back from one of his outbursts. Harry could frighten her sometimes. He was like a pressure cooker that exploded on occasion. Harry would never ever hurt her. She knew that, but he would lose himself sometimes. She was worried for him. 

She knew the strain he was under. She had worked out for herself that a part of Voldemort’s soul languished in him. He could lash out. The effects of this connection he had with the Dark Lord could not be underestimated. She knew Harry was a good person, but he had a dark side to him that was potent. 

Ron often lost his temper for all sorts of reasons. It was a common Weasley trait. Ginny was much the same. They got angry quickly and normally calmed down shortly afterwards. Well, Ginny did. Ron's mood swings had changed over the years. He could remain angry for weeks at a time now. She remembered when he had grown very sullen with her over Krum. 

Harry could brood for hours. She knew she could give as good as she got with Ron, and they had had many splendid rows with each other over the years. Their bickering was second nature to both of them by now. 

Ron had alarmed her in the tent, though. The Horcrux had brought out a side to Ron that she had only suspected before. He had looked mean. Volatile. They had all been pushed to the brink, though. Voldemort brought out the absolute worst in anyone. 

When Harry got into one of his rages, she couldn’t reason with him. She hadn’t been able to reason with Ron on that dreadful day he had stormed out and left them. 

Harry was different to Ron. Ginny had been a stabilising influence later on with him. Ginny could handle Harry’s mood swings better than she could. Riddle had possessed her. She knew what he could do to a person from the inside. She understood Harry in a way that Hermione couldn’t. 

Hermione remembered those long, quiet nights in the tent. Harry and she were comfortable enough with each other that they could just let the other be. There had been a few nights where Harry had approached her cautiously. He had shared her bed several times, but they hadn’t crossed any lines. They had both needed that closeness. They had just cuddled each other in the silence. They had always gained a lot of strength from each other. 

If it hadn’t been for Voldemort and the damage he had done to Harry, then perhaps things would have been different. He could be morose. Hermione understood why. He had lost so much. They were well suited in many ways. Not so much in others. Hermione knew her bossiness drove Harry up the wall. He was her friend in spite of that particular character trait. Not because of it.

The Dursley family and their resentment and treatment of Harry had played their part too. Harry didn’t respond well to orders and authority. 

Hermione was naturally bossy. It was an innate character trait. It gave her a sense of control in a mad world. She had never felt so out of control than right now. They had no one in authority to go to. They'd be sent to Azkaban or St Mungo's if they breathed a word of this to the authorities. She grimaced. Dumbledore might possibly be able to help. He was no fan of the Ministry, and he may actually believe them. She needed to talk to Draco. Whatever they did, it had to be a mutual decision.  

Hermione’s eyes flittered over his clothes. It was the weekend. No school uniform was required. Draco did not do casual. She had never once seen him in a pair of shorts or even a t-shirt. She needed to maintain the illusion of normality. 

She picked out a dark suit from the wardrobe and very tentatively picked out some underwear. She had endured much in her life. She had faced Death Eaters and survived near-death experiences. A Troll had almost pummelled her to death. She had faced Voldemort and Dementors. She had endured flying lessons despite her intense vertigo. She had coped with Dolores Umbridge, Harry’s temper tantrums and Ron’s snoring. 

As she made her way to the bathroom, she felt her heart plummet. This was going to be the hardest thing she would ever have to put herself through. 

It took every shred of Gryffindor courage she possessed to walk into that bathroom. 

For two very confident people in their own right, Draco and Hermione had both been reduced to mortified wimps.

With much agitation, they completed their ablutions with one eye shut. This was so ludicrous for both of them. They both felt like peeping Tom’s. 

Neither of them would look down. They both surmised they were done in rapid succession.  

Both of them were red-faced as they dressed. Draco had never felt chagrin like it when he had to put a bra on. He had considered doing without one, but he had to be Hermione. He needed to look the part, at least. 

He had seen several in his life up close, and he was rather adept at getting them off. He was rather sought after amongst many of the witches at Hogwarts. Putting them back on was quite another thing. He managed in the end, however. 

When he was younger, he had dated around. Pansy and he had explored their growing hormones together. He liked Pansy in a lot of ways. They trusted each other, but Draco had too much going on to commit to her properly.  

He had made the mistake of not proposing an engagement to her. Pansy had grown rather cold with him over that. Draco thought back. He had so much going on in his sixth year that he hadn’t really noticed her annoyance. His parent’s imminent execution if he failed in his mission had been looming over his head. Pansy’s silent treatment had been the least of his worries. He had been ordered to kill Dumbledore. He had been terrified. 

He thought back to that ghastly year. There had been that bloody necklace that had almost killed Katie Bell. The poisoned mead that had somehow got to Ron. He remembered all that time spent in the Room of Requirement trying desperately to connect the vanishing cabinets together. He had been out of his mind with worry. He hadn’t been able to sleep. He had become so reckless. He had gone crazy for a time. There was a lot of it that was hazy. He couldn't remember parts of it. 

He did recall that Pansy had been off with him for most of the year. They had sort of made up in the spring. 

He sighed. Hermione just needed to be polite to Pansy. That was all. There was a good chance Pansy might just ignore her. He hoped she would anyway. They had enough problems without Parkinson getting suspicious. If anyone could sniff a rat it was Pansy. 

Hermione went to put her fingers through her hair but gave a jolt when all she felt was the short blond hair again. It was his trademark. 

She took his comb and brushed it into his familiar style. He never had a hair out of place. She went by memory. Satisfied, she took a step back and appraised herself. 

She stared in the mirror in the bathroom and brought her fingers to his jaw. Draco had some stubble. Hermione’s nerves were shredded to such an extent she thought it wise to just leave it for now. The razor looked a little too ominous in shaky hands. She didn’t want to shred his face. Her face. 

Hermione’s lip trembled again as she stared back at an unusually nervous-looking Draco in the mirror. Hermione took a deep breath. Draco didn’t look like that. Well, not until later in the year. She had seen the dark circles under his eyes by the time January had rolled around. His familiar strut had all but dissipated by then. 

At this point in the past, he had still been strutting around the castle as if he owned it. Hermione bit her lip. The Malfoy family probably could afford to buy Hogwarts. Not that it was for sale. 

Her own parents were well off, but even she had been stunned at the size of Malfoy Manor when they had been captured. She remembered being dragged through those gates, and even with all that was going on, she had paused a moment to simply admire it. It was beautiful. There was no denying it. 

She looked into grey eyes and adjusted her facial muscles to one of bored nonchalance. That was better. She looked much more like Draco. She practised his other expressions. There was his aloof look. The notorious sneer. Dismissive disdain. She felt a little better. 

Her mind went back to Lavender and Ron. She watched as Draco’s face paled to such an extent it looked translucent. 

It had been a messy year. Ron had tried to make her jealous and instead had made his own self miserable. Lavender had been too clingy. Too affectionate. Too much. 

Hermione made her way back to the wardrobe and picked up a bottle of cologne. She dabbed herself with it. Draco always smelt nice. She gulped. Not that she ever paid any attention to vacuous things like that. She liked the more natural smells. Like freshly mowed grass, new parchment and toothpaste. 

She slid on his Slytherin signet ring and breathed deeply. Attention to detail was vital. 

She thought again of Lavender. It had to run its course. Ron would get sick of her. Hermione had made it clear to him that she was very annoyed with him. He had known for sure that she harboured feelings for him by that point. Those attacking birds she had set upon him in anger had spelt that out for Ron. 

‘No,’ Hermione whispered out loud as her mind sped forward. Draco wouldn’t give a shit that Ron was dating Lavender. What could he do anyway? He was not going to play the part of a spurned lover. Hermione knew that about him, at least. Especially to Ron. They didn’t like each other at all. She had lost count of the number of punch-ups they’d had over the years. Draco was not going to be using the Avis charm on Ron. Even if she asked him to. He would find it ridiculous for a start. 

Hermione sniffed. It had been ridiculous looking back, but she’d felt such rage for him at the time. It had made sense at the time. 

The butterfly effect was starting to look horrendous. With Draco in her body and Lavender working her dubious magic over Ron, Hermione had to accept the inevitable conclusion. 

It was going to be a train wreck. 

Hermione pulled it together. This body swap was most probably temporary. At some point, they would swap back. She could explain to Ron the situation. He would be cross and overwhelmed for a few days; then, they would get back to normal. It was how they operated. 

Ron loved her. She loved him. Hermione’s heartbeat settled back down. 

That little voice in the back of her head was whispering unpleasant things to her. What if they couldn’t get back to their own selves? What if she was stuck like this? She shook her head clear. She was in shock. It had been one thing after another for years. This was just another obstacle to get through. The time tuner had acted by itself. She suspected it had wanted them here. 

She brightened. That was it. That was the cure. She and Draco simply had to help the others defeat Voldemort, and then magic would then swap them back to their true selves. It was a trade of sorts. Magic had ordained this. 

She nodded to herself and smiled at this hopeful thought. She looked at her reflection and gave a jolt. Draco was smiling back at her. She kept the expression on her face as she peered at him with interest. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Draco actually smile before. Not properly anyway. Sardonic amusement was not a smile. It was most peculiar for her to observe. 

He actually looked quite nice. 

Draco kept fidgeting with the bra strap. How did women cope with this? He looked down at the simple black cashmere jumper and blue trousers and sighed. It was as good as it got. Granger at least didn't own anything too frilly and garish. It was just so sensible. So dull. So boring. She dressed like a boring great grandmother.

Draco gave a huff. Even they would have declined on some of the outfits hanging in Granger's wardrobe. 

Granger was overdue for some much-needed style advice. His overwrought mind had considered calling his mother here, but he stopped himself from following that path. His situation was past absurd already. 

His finger trailed over her side table searching for some jewellery. It was slim pickings. He suspected Fenrir Greyback owned more bling than Granger did. 

He opened the top drawer with trepidation. It didn’t feel right looking in her drawer, but he had to admit the truth to himself. Everything he had endured in the bathroom had been a massive violation of her privacy. He paled as he thought of what she was doing right now. He trembled with nerves. She would see absolutely everything. 

He stifled a sob. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He was in good shape. He was not afraid of the changing room. He was secure in himself. He shook his head in confusion. It didn’t matter what Granger thought of his body. 

Why was he so bothered? His eyes caught a glimpse of silver as he brought out a simple silver bracelet. He cheered a little. He always felt a little naked without his accessories. 

He slipped it on Granger's wrist and looked down. It looked rather nice. His hand smoothed over her arm. 

She had nice skin. He sat down in front of the mirror and took a good look. He inspected her features. He knew her face well by now. The bucked teeth had gone. He remembered that chaotic lesson with the misfired spell well. Her teeth had grown so fast. When she had returned to class, her teeth were noticeably smaller. 

She looked better like this. He appraised his reflection with cool eyes. She needed some slight adjustments. Her hair was inexplicable, but overall he knew he could handle this. As she had matured, her features had become more defined and distinguished. 

He looked closer. Her eyebrows could do with some pruning. He peered into brown eyes. He had privately thought them her best feature. 

They were expressive eyes. They could convey many emotions. He had been on the receiving end of many of her more negative ones over the years. They were deep and warm. He ran his finger over her face. Her skin was clear. 

He put his fingers to her neck as he felt her blood pulsing through. It felt just like his did. He kept his fingers to the skin. He needed to approach this from another angle. He was too focused on the differences. He needed to see the similarities. He needed to feel some familiarity in the body he was in. 

The gentle rhythm of the blood pulsating through him gave him a calmer feel. It was time to find her. 

They had much to discuss. 

Chapter Text

Hermione stood upright and pulled her shoulders back. She needed to walk as if she owned the building. 

She began to practice. Back and forth she went across the dorm floor.

Swagger. Check. Wry look. Check. Look at the peasants as if they were scum. Got it. 

She plastered a look of derision to the lesser mortals on Draco's face. She felt more confident. She had perfected it.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak and felt another shock in her system as Draco’s voice came out of her mouth. 

‘Hello,’ she said in his voice to the empty room. She brought her hand to her mouth in dismay. This wouldn’t do. She needed to add a bit of bite to his voice.

She remembered her appalling acting as Bellatrix. She needed to channel her inner snob. She was supposed to be a Malfoy. 

‘Good evening, plebs,’ she said smoothly with sardonic derision. That was better.  

‘Get out of my way,’ she snapped with irritation. 

She moved through the dorm and moved her arms out wide to take up as much space as possible. 

Adequate. She’d need to practise more later. 

Luckily she was a fast learner. It helped that she had witnessed this obnoxious behaviour from Draco almost daily for many years. 

Due to his personal circumstances, Draco had evolved over time into a somewhat more decent young man. She faltered. That would come later in the timeline. She wondered what he had seen in his life to alter him so much. 

Hermione sucked in a deep breath. War had been an abstract concept to her until the battle. There had been that night when Dumbledore had been killed. The Felix Felicis had protected them. That had been manic, but it wasn’t on the scale of the future battle.

She had been tortured at Malfoy Manor, but she had never run into combat as brutal as the Hogwarts battle until the very end. She had been on the run for most of that year with Harry and Ron. They had been hiding from Death Eaters and Snatchers. It was vital they located the Horcruxes. That had been their job. They had some terrifying moments on that Horcrux hunt. Their audacious break-in at Gringotts loomed into her mind. 

She looked down at the smart suit she was wearing and mused. Malfoy Manor had been the Headquarters for Voldemort. It had been sheer dumb luck Voldemort hadn’t been there when they had been captured. 

She had noticed the changes in Draco by the start of 1997. It was all in his eyes. His face itself had remained stoic. He had been quieter. She had seen his eyes change little by little. The way he had looked at her had changed. It was like watching the slowest epiphany of all time take place. 

He had woken up to what Voldemort truly was. What his followers actually were. All the gloss had been taken off the Dark Lord when his parents’ lives had been put on the line.

Personally, Hermione held a great amount of dislike for both Mr and Mrs Malfoy. Still, they were his parents, for better or worse, and the threat of their demise had made Draco actually start to pay attention.  

When they were recuperating at Shell cottage, Luna had told her that Draco had risked a great deal to smuggle in provisions to them. He had made the ordeal not as bad as it could have been for them. Luna had clammed up then. 

Hermione hadn’t pushed her. Luna was a very honest young woman. If she didn’t want to elaborate on her experiences, it was for a good reason. 

Hermione wondered just how bad things had got at the Manor. It had been enough for Draco to put his foot on the brake. She felt a shudder. Draco’s mission was in his sixth year. Voldemort had ordered him to kill Dumbledore. He had also found a way to bypass the Hogwarts wards. 

His parents were to be executed if this mission wasn’t accomplished. Draco couldn’t bring himself to kill Dumbledore. Harry had told her he was lowering his wand against the Headmaster. Draco couldn’t kill an innocent man even with everything on the line. 

Hermione exhaled slowly at that simple fact. Draco could only be pushed so far. That boded well for her. 

Snape had taken over at that point. He had been under Dumbledore’s orders in the end. She remembered his burnt hand from this year. Harry had told her he had destroyed a Horcrux. It had been the Peverell ring, but it had been at great personal cost. The ring had been cursed. Dumbledore had chosen his own way to die.

Snape had become one of the Dark Lord's most trusted by this manipulation. 

Voldermort used Nagini to kill him in the boat shack in the end. He claimed he wanted ownership of the elder wand. Hermione bit her lip. Voldemort had been acting a part for them. He had known they were there. They had walked right into it. 

Hermione ran Draco’s hands down his suit and contemplated all this. Bit by bit her head was starting to clear. Riddle had said he acquired the time tuner several months before the battle. 

They had time. Time to defeat Voldemort for good. She ran her hand through her short blond hair. Time travel to this extent was illegal for very good reason. The ramifications of any of their future actions could have massive, unforeseen consequences. Even something innocuous could affect the timeline. 

Grey eyes stared at the green and silver drapes around Draco’s bed. Her bed. 

They had to tread on eggshells. The timeline had to stay as close to the original for as long as they could manage it or they could lose the plot completely. Voldemort had to be destroyed. If Draco and she had to do this in each other's bodies, then so be it. 

Hermione was adamant that whatever happened, that goal would be achieved. Draco and she had to work in the shadows. They couldn’t utter a word to Harry. His connection to Voldemort would lead him straight to them. 

They had to be silent about this. Just Albus needed to know. Hermione narrowed her eyes. It was taking a massive gamble just telling him. Still, they needed proper help. They could begin the Horcrux hunt earlier. She mused. Voldemort had replaced the originals with realistic copies. Perhaps they could do the same. 

All their futures would be horrendous if Voldemort survived. Most of them wouldn’t have a future. She looked down at Draco’s body. 

She would have to live, breathe and be Draco in public for the foreseeable future. They both had knowledge of the diabolical future that lay ahead. Draco knew as well as her the consequences of failing this. They couldn’t risk attention. Too many lives depended on them. Their own included. 

With another practised sneer, Hermione took a deep breath and left the dorm. It was time to find Draco. She just had to look for herself. 

Hermione shook her head. That was a sentence she never thought she would think. 

Draco had picked up two books to get into character and was now walking down the stairs towards the Dungeons. He had planned to loiter near them and wait. It wasn’t as if he could just knock on the Slytherin door and ask to speak to himself. The Serpents wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from laughing. It would be humiliating. 

They would think Granger had finally lost her marbles. 

They could create a better system than that. Discretion was key to all of this. 

He took a seat in an alcove and pretended to read. He had one eye on the corridor that led downstairs to the Dungeons. 

‘Granger,’ came a voice from up above.

Draco raised his eyes slowly and with apprehension. 

‘What is it, Chang?’ he asked in as smooth a voice as he could muster.

The shock of hearing Granger’s voice coming out of his mouth had caused his voice to rise sharply at the end. It was almost bordering on a shriek. 

Cho blinked at him in confusion. 

‘What’s got your wand in a knot?’ 

Draco cringed. He had been a little abrupt.

‘Nothing. Just a bit of a headache. That’s all.' 

Cho looked at him suspiciously.

‘Oh, right. Have you seen Professor McGonagall? She’s not in her office.’ 

‘No. I’ll let her know you’re looking for her if I see her,’ he said cautiously.

His voice was tremulous. 

‘Ok. Thanks, Hermione,’ Cho murmured as he watched her turn and then leave.  

Draco let out a deep sigh. He needed to work harder at this. He hadn’t been able to get through a simple conversation without it sounding weird. 

He pictured Hermione in his head. She had a very clear dialect that occasionally became caustic if she was riled. Most of the time, she spoke softly. She was generally polite. Well, not to the Slytherins. She liked to rip their heads off at the first sign of any rudeness. 

His mind wandered back to all the glorious arguments over the years. Granger had always given as good as she got with interest. He’d always admired that about her. True, he’d wanted to hex her into oblivion on many occasions, but the fact remained. She had been a worthy adversary to the House of Serpents. 

He lifted his hand to his cheek. He still recalled with startling accuracy the infamous slap in their third year. It was now a legend in Hogwarts folklore. Draco could ruefully admit he’d been begging for it. 

Merlin, he had been a little shit back then. Buckbeak had been about to be executed, and Draco had made a circus out of it. 

He squirmed a little in the alcove at the unwanted memory. He sat back and tried to get more comfortable. He was still adjusting to the different shape of his new body. 

What had possessed him to act like that? Nurture, he supposed. His father had been beyond livid that the Hippogriff had attacked him. He had Draco convinced the animal was dangerous. Draco had convinced himself this was justice. 

Buckbeak had escaped. Draco had been annoyed for days about that. Now? Well, now he was relieved. He had been able to admit to himself that he hadn’t followed Hagrid’s advice. He only had himself to blame. He hadn’t shown Buckbeak any respect, and he had paid for his arrogance. 

He still resented the animal. He still had a faint scar on his arm from that incident. Buckbeak hadn’t deserved death, though. With age comes wisdom. Draco supposed he was growing up. 

Draco glanced down the corridor for the tenth time. Where was she? 

He felt her presence before he saw her. All the air seemed to disappear in that corridor. It was by far the most outlandish moment of his life, and he had a great deal of experience in extraordinary encounters. 

Draco saw himself gazing back at him with the most incongruous expression he suspected had ever been on his face. 

Hermione stared back at herself with her stomach churning at the sight that greeted her. 

It all became crystal clear at that moment. 

She was him, and he was her. 

She couldn’t have stopped the tidal wave even with all the strong will she possessed.

Draco watched with alarm as she burst into tears. 

‘Fuck,’ he seethed as he picked himself up and rushed over. 

He watched his shoulders shake and his own face scrunch up in distress. 

‘Pull it together, Granger,’ he whispered sharply as he looked around them anxiously. 

He saw his own grey eyes look into his own through thick, heavy tears. 

‘Meet me outside the Room of Requirement as soon as you can. We can’t be seen together,’ he whispered to her urgently.  

The only response he got was a small whimper. 

Draco heard the sound of distant voices as he spun around and made great haste towards the stairs before they were spotted. 

He grimaced in irritation. If anyone saw him acting like that in public, his reputation would be in pieces. He wanted to bawl his eyes out too, but he was saving that for later. 

Hermione wiped her eyes as she took several deep breaths. She lifted a shaky hand up to her head and smoothed her short hair down. 

Her chin shook with the supreme effort it took to compose herself. She began to trudge up the stairs. 

The castle was quiet. People must be making the most of the last of the warm weather. 

Seeing herself in the flesh had been the single most freaky thing ever. She was still trembling. This was actually happening. 

Her tears had subsided by the time she reached Draco in the deserted corridor. He had already activated the room. A single doorway waited for them. 

Draco was looking at her in a clinical fashion.

‘Granger. You look good. Your attention to detail is very accurate. Ten points to Gryffindor.’

Draco gave her a small smirk. He was trying to put her at ease. 

She gave him a watery smile. 

‘However, the way you're walking needs improvement. I’ll need you to butch up, ok. Your walk is fine, very convincing, but I don’t wrap my arms around myself. My arms swing at the sides. I take up a lot of room. It’s all going to be about the little details. People will notice otherwise.’ 

Hermione huffed. ‘I know they will. I’ve been practising. I’m just very shaken up.’ 

He narrowed his eyes.

‘I’ll work on it,’ she said ruefully.

She looked down at him.

‘If we’re swapping advice, I don’t sit with my legs wide apart either. I’m not a football player. Just cross my legs or my ankles. That will be sufficient.’ 

It was Draco’s turn to shift awkwardly. 

Hermione peered at him silently. 

Draco gave her a small smile.

‘It could be worse. Now, get inside.’ 

Hermione followed him into the room and was greeted with a carbon copy of the Slytherin common room. 

She looked around with interest. She had dashed out of the Slytherin common room without paying much attention to her surroundings. 

‘It will help me think,’ Draco admitted. ‘We can do the Gryffindor common room next if you like.’ 

Hermione nodded. Draco was actually trying very hard here to meet her halfway. This boded well. 

She took a seat and leaned back in one of the black leather chairs. The underwater scenes of the Black Lake were rather soothing.  It was quite dark in here. The silver and green colours were in abundance. 

She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. 

‘This is mental,’ she whispered. 

Draco made a strangled sort of noise. 

‘Voldemort,’ Hermione said quietly. 

Hermione watched with interest as a sickly expression passed her face. 

‘He has to be stopped,’ Draco said quietly.

She watched her brown eyes dart around the room nervously. Draco was terrified. He sounded adamant, though. 

Hermione was on more familiar ground now. Draco and she at least had a common aim. 

‘We know more now,’ Hermione said.

He glanced at her. 

‘It’s so weird to hear my own voice. To see you as me is beyond strange,’ he said in a tone of awe. 

Hermione could only look at him helplessly. 

‘Do you think we can swap back?’ Draco asked her. 

‘I think that maybe whatever brought us back has done this. I don’t know if it was an accident. I think magic itself wants us to change this. Voldemort messed with time travel. He changed the timelines. You’re not supposed to do that. I think Magic wants us to restore the original timeline. Once we’ve done that, then maybe we’ll change back.’ 

‘Do you think it's a bargain of sorts?’ he asked. 

‘Perhaps. It will certainly motivate us to work together,’ Hermione said brightly.

She watched herself smile.

‘Or, it could just be accidental magic. Be prepared for anything,’ she said in an ominous tone. 

Draco’s smile faltered. 

‘Look,’ Hermione said. ‘We’re still both healthy. I know this is not ideal-’ 

Draco spluttered as he interrupted.

‘Not ideal! Get some bloody perspective. This is the opposite of ideal.’ 

‘Believe me, I’m well aware of that,’ she said in a low tone. ‘But we’re both still alive. We can do something real to stop that future. If we have to do this in a different body, then so be it.’ 

Draco slumped back in his chair. 

‘I have breasts, Hermione,’ he sighed out in a defeated tone. 

He looked so forlorn that Hermione reached over to him and patted his knee. Her knee. 

Hermione couldn’t think of one platitude to comfort him with.

‘I know, poppet,’ she said eventually in what she thought was a soothing voice. 

‘You have something very important to me,’ he whined. 

Hermione gritted her teeth and gave him one of her infamous glares.

‘Trust me; if I could cut it off and give it back to you, I would,’ she snapped. 

She watched her own face pale drastically. 

‘Look, Draco. We’re here, and we’re going to have to make the best of it. It’s just us, and we’re both of us going to have to make this work. We don’t have any other choice.’ 

The silence in the Room of Requirement was tangible.

Draco was sulking. 

Hermione rubbed her temples. ‘I think we should tell the Headmaster. Only him, though. He will keep it to himself. This is so delicate. We need to find a way to destroy his Horcruxes before Riddle gets the time turner. No one else can know but us three. Not even Harry. He has a connection to him. The authorities would either sentence us to Azkaban or put us both in an institution.’

Draco made a small noise of agreement. 

‘Anything we do differently from the original timeline can have catastrophic consequences,' Hermione said. 'This should be impossible. We need to follow the original timeline as much as possible. You have to be me and vice versa.’ 

‘Maybe magic wants us to prevent all the shit that happened in the original timeline. Hundreds of people were killed by them. You have no idea of the extent of the damage Voldemort and his followers were doing to people. They were putting innocent people in Azkaban. People were getting murdered in their beds. What was happening under my roof was grotesque. Hogwarts was, ugh. The tales I heard from Pansy and Blaise were vile.’ 

‘We have to keep to the timeline. That is the most logical solution.’ 

Draco gave her a wry look.

'When will you understand that magic isn’t always logical? Even with the best of intentions, there is no way we can keep to the original timeline exactly. We’re going to change things. I can’t remember everything I‘ve done in the last week, let alone a year ago. Can you honestly tell me you can? It's going to be even more impossible because of our current situation.’ 

It was Hermione’s turn to sulk as Draco sighed. 

‘We imitate each other to the best of our abilities for now. You're right about Dumbledore. We need his strength. He’s dying. The sooner we tell him, the better. He may have some good advice. We will need his help to destroy the Horcruxes. Even without them, the Dark Lord is going to be almost impossible to kill. You saw what he did in the Great Hall.’ 

Hermione felt vexation flood through them. They had been helpless.

‘He did have the Elder wand by then.’ 

‘Exactly. We can’t have that pass to him. You saw what he could do with it before he killed Potter. With complete ownership of it, he will be unstoppable.’ 

Hermione blanched at the memory. 

They sat in awkward silence. Their eyes kept roaming over each other. 

‘Does my wand work properly for you?’ Hermione asked him. 

Draco took out her wand and cast a simple Lumos spell.

‘Perfectly.' 

Hermione did the same with his wand. It responded beautifully. 

‘We have each other's magic too,’ Hermione said in the quiet. 

'I think it’s our souls that swapped.’ 

'Merlin.’ 

Draco gazed at her through brown eyes.

‘Er, Hermione. We need to agree to the terms of this arrangement.'

Hermione gave him a resigned look.

'Ok. What is it you need?' 

'I know you and Pansy despise each other with the power of a thousand suns.’ 

Hermione rolled her eyes.

‘I don’t hate Pansy. I dislike her. There’s a difference. I don’t waste my energy even thinking about her.’ 

Draco watched himself pout. 

‘Right, well, you and I both know that’s bollocks. I need you to be nice to her. Well, not nice. She’s off me at the moment. I’ve not been committed enough to her. I need you to be civil to her if she speaks to you. Whatever happens in the future, Pansy will always be my friend.’ 

Hermione lifted an eyebrow.

‘I didn’t know you two were together.’ 

‘We’re not. That’s the problem. I had too much going on. I didn’t want any more distractions.' 

‘Pansy wanted more?’ Hermione asked with interest. 

‘At this point in the original timeline, she was ignoring me. We made it up in the spring of next year. It shouldn’t be a problem for a while. I just need you to not be a cow to her if she does speak to me.’ 

‘I am never a cow to her,’ Hermione said in an obstinate tone. 

‘Really?’ Draco smirked. ‘Do you call all your friends’ pug face?’ 

Hermione looked away from him. 

‘Blaise, too. He’s a good friend of mine. He’s neutral about the blood thing. I didn’t have much to do with anyone in my sixth year, but I did occasionally sit with him. You can keep it light with him. He won’t push with me.’ 

Hermione nodded at this. 

‘As for Crabbe and Goyle. The balls in your court. They are worse than I thought they were. I’m sure you can handle them. You do share a dorm room with them, so be careful. Just, you can put as much distance between them and yourself as you like. It’s over for me with them. They’re not my friends. They never cared about my parents or me.’ 

He said this in such a dark tone that Hermione made a mental note of it. 

Draco shifted nervously in his chair as Hermione gazed at him. 

‘Er, now, Hermione,’ Draco began cautiously. ‘There is one other thing I need you to agree with.’ 

Draco touched the bushy mane on his head. 

Hermione pursed her lips.

‘Fine,' she snapped. 'Cut it off if you have to.' 

Draco gave a huge sigh of relief. 

‘Do not touch my eyebrows,’ Hermione added dangerously. ‘I love them just as they are. They will never grow back properly if you start plucking them.’ 

Draco nodded his agreement with the compromise. 

‘So, what about you?’ Draco asked. 

‘Much the same. I know you don’t like Ron and Harry, but please be cordial if you’re with them. If they get on your nerves, go for a walk. I spend a lot of time in the library, so you can just go there if they get too much for you. 

Draco nodded. 

‘I need you to be decent to Ginny. Er, Luna is..’ Hermione struggled to find the words.

Draco waited patiently. 

‘I do like Luna. However, I find a lot of what she says irrational. Again, if she gets on your nerves, walk away. I always do.’ 

'I get it. She’s lovely, but yeah. She’s very, er, unique.’  

Hermione gazed at him for a moment. Draco had helped Luna in the future. She decided to leave that for now. 

Hermione wondered if she should mention Ron and Lavender. She chose not to at this stage. This was already embarrassing enough for both of them. 

Another unfortunate fact pushed itself to the front of her mind. 

‘Er, Draco,’ she muttered. 

He peered at her. 

‘How much do you actually know about biology?’

She felt her toes curl under her feet with how much she was cringing. 

‘Mother has spoken to me at great length about all of that. She also supplied me with the relevant literature. She explained a good husband should already understand how his wife’s body works. He shouldn’t need to ask questions. He should already know. Mother was very adamant about that. Father has always been very sympathetic to my mother’s tribulations in that area.’ 

Hermione opened her mouth in astonishment at this startling insight into Malfoy’s marriage dynamic. 

‘Could you be so kind as to allow me your ovulation calendar so I can plan for your inevitable menstrual cycle? It would help me a great deal.’ 

Hermione found she couldn’t actually form a single word in response.  

‘What?’ Draco asked. 

Hermione found her throat very dry as she stared at him. 

‘Granger. It’s biology. Every human being on the planet is at its mercy, one way or another. It's best to be practical about this. My body acts on its own accord sometimes, too.’ 

Hermione could only gawp at this surprisingly mature attitude from one Draco Malfoy. 

‘I’ll, er,' she stuttered eventually. 'It’s written down. You’ll find it in my second drawer by my bed.'

‘Thank you,’ Draco said in a clear voice. 

Hermione eyed him warily. 

‘So,’ Draco began. ‘I think it best if we study each other for a while. The way we both speak—our mannerisms. I think we should devise a signal system if we need to speak to each other. We can meet here. I’ll arrange a meeting with the Headmaster. He should agree to that. He seems to be very fond of you.’ 

Hermione nodded gently at this. 

‘We’ll keep our heads down for the near future. We need to avoid looking for any trouble,’ Draco said. ‘Be discreet. I was anyway in this year.’ 

‘We won’t do anything until we’ve spoken to Dumbledore.' 

‘I think it’s for the best.'

They sat there and stared at each other. 

‘This is unbelievable,’ Hermione muttered. 

Draco matched her look of bewilderment. 

Chapter Text

‘We need to cover the basics,’ Hermione began. ‘Our family histories. Little things like where we went on holiday. Places we've visited. If you get asked anything you’re not sure of, distract them. Just say something like, 'oh, I forgot, Madam Pince has a book waiting for me that I need to collect.’ 

Draco gave her a look of derision.

‘Granger. Remember who you're talking to. I’m a master at deflection. I’m an expert at wriggling out of uncomfortable situations.’ 

Hermione felt glad to hear that level of arrogance. Both of them would need a certain amount of it to get through this.  

Draco sat back. ‘I’ll write some notes down for you. You can do the same thing for me.’ 

‘Are you sure you're ok about the whole biology thing?’ she asked tentatively. 

‘Of course not, but half the human race goes through this. I’m approaching this objectively. If I weren’t here, I would be shackled up to the wall in freezing cold Azkaban, having Dementors feeding on me and being used as target practice for sadistic Death Eaters. I know it’s not a great comparison, but let’s get real. Mood swings, bloating, and menstrual cramps is by far the better option.’ 

Hermione blinked rapidly at that acute observation. 

‘Neither option is appealing,’ Draco said in a dull tone. ‘But the latter at least will be bearable.’ 

Hermione had to concede this very valid point. 

‘Um, I find chocolate helps me cope. I have a hot water bottle by the bed. Also, there is a handy potion that helps a great deal with the cramps. They shouldn’t last long. A day at most. Madam Pomfrey is a sweetheart. Just ask her for my regular. She knows what I have.’ 

Draco gave her a brittle smile. ‘If we get through this, then at least I’ll be able to empathise with my future wife. Mother greatly appreciates Father’s thoughtfulness. She said he was wonderful when she was pregnant with me. They’re very happily married. I believe that is one of the major reasons why.’ 

Hermione gazed at him as she pictured Mr and Mrs Malfoy cuddling up together with a hot water bottle as Lucius whispered comforting words to her. It was a strangely nice image. 

Draco was looking at her with a slight glint in his eye. 

‘What?’ Hermione asked self-consciously. 

‘You’ve not asked me any questions,’ Draco stated with a slight twitch to his lips. 

Hermione knew instantly what he was referring to as she blushed beet red. 

‘If I have any questions, I shall ask you,’ she said through gritted teeth. 

Draco’s lips curled up in jest. 

‘Nature will take its course, Granger. Don't hesitate to ask me if you need any advice.' 

‘Right, thank you for your kind offer of advice.’

Hermione looked away in mortification as she tried to think of anything to distract her from her discomfort. 

‘Relax,’ Draco said with a warm tone. ‘It’s biology. You and I are in the same boat here. It’s important we can talk openly about this. It’s not like you can talk to Harry and Ron about it. I doubt very much you’d want to either.'

He said this with a knowing tone.  

‘Why did you say that like that?’ she asked suspiciously. 

‘Like what?’ he asked innocently. 

‘Well, you’re insinuating something,’ she said abruptly. 

‘Well, I am curious. I do need to know what is going on with you and the two young men you spend so much time with. You can’t expect anyone to believe that nothing has ever happened between you three.’ 

If there was ever a time that Hermione wanted the ground to open up and swallow her, it was now. 

Draco tilted his head, her head as Hermione watched herself look her up and down. 

‘Harry is dating Ginny in the future. They’re good for each other. Harry and I are just good friends. Neither of us sees the other like that.’ 

‘And the other one?’ 

Hermione huffed.

‘We’re not seeing each other at this particular time. We are together by the time of the Battle.’ 

Draco’s face softened at that admission.  

‘Right. You do understand that I can’t get involved in that, don’t you? I can play you to a certain extent, but I can’t mess with someone’s head like that, even if it’s Weasley’s. He will never forgive you for involving me in his love life. He can’t stand me. That’s fine. I can’t stand him, but nothing good will come of me interfering when he thinks I’m you. When the truth does come out, he will feel betrayed by you. Until we get our bodies back, neither of us can get involved with anyone. They think we’re someone else.’  

Hermione nodded wearily.

‘I know. I thought of that. Ron and Lavender get together in the original timeline, but they break up when she becomes a bit too clingy.’ 

Draco sighed. He had witnessed the disturbing displays of affection between the two of them himself.

‘Yes, she was rather like a limpet.’

‘I admit I got jealous. I set some birds on him in anger.’

Draco gestured to her to continue. 

‘I know it sounds stupid now, but I was so cross with him at the time. I think that’s when he knew I actually liked him,’ she muttered. 

‘I think, for now, you have to take a step back,’ he said gently. ‘I’m not going to get involved. I can’t. I’ll treat him how you do at this present time, but I’m not crossing any lines, even just to nudge him towards you. He won't see it like that.’ 

Hermione ground her teeth in annoyance.

‘You're right. I just need him to know I have feelings for him.’  

Draco looked at her in a very guarded way.

‘We have to be realistic. If we can’t get back into our proper bodies, then you’re going to have to let Ron go. Like, I’m going to have to let Pansy go. Neither of us can start anything with anyone.’ 

All the colour left Hermione’s face.

‘We will swap back. I’m sure of it. I’ve been in tough spots before. This is just a blip. Once Riddle’s gone, then we’ll change back. Ron will move on from Lavender. That won’t last, no matter what I do. Then we can start again.’ 

‘Right. Good. Keep positive, but until that happens, neither you nor I can get involved with anyone. I know you and Ron have strong feelings for each other, but you have to take a step back. You have to prepare for what will happen if we don't swap back. Even if we tell the truth and they believe us, it’s very possible he will only ever see me, not you, when he’s with you.’ 

Hermione felt her body, Draco’s body, grow limp. 

‘You know I’m right,’ Draco said softly. ‘There’s too much at risk for telling any of them just yet. They will most probably not even believe us. They may think we’re under some sort of spell. I can barely make sense of it myself, and I’m actually living it. I can’t believe this is happening, but it is.’  

A strange sort of strangled sound came out of Hermione’s throat. 

Draco took pity on the slumped figure. He had never seen himself look so pathetic. He grimaced. Well, he had looked worse earlier that morning. 

‘You and I have faced true horrors in our lives,’ he told her. ‘You and I need to face this, too.’ 

‘What about polyjuice? We could use that,’ she said. 

‘Polyjuice is a good idea, but only for times when it’s vital. Taking a powerful potion like that every day for months would do you permanent damage. Anyway, Polyjuice only affects the external body. You know this better than I do.’ 

Hermione bristled. She did know that. She was clutching at straws. 

‘Besides, even if polyjuice was safe to take regularly, you’ll always be me inside.'  

Hermione went very still at the stone-cold implications.  

‘I know you think I’m a bastard for saying this, but we have to face facts. It’s the worst-case scenario, and I’m sure you and I will change back. I have faith in magic,’ Draco said quietly. ‘But for now, you’re in my body. I’m in yours, with all that entails.’

Hermione made a raspy sound. If this situation weren’t resolved, she would never be a mother. Her brain went into meltdown at the sudden way her life had changed.

Her mouth tried to make sounds, but she failed to utter a squeak. 

They sat there in the quiet of the copy of the Slytherin common room as they slowly began to absorb the enormity of what had happened to them both. 

‘You think you’ve got problems,’ said Draco very dryly. ‘Can you imagine trying to explain this to my mother?’ 

Hermione trembled at that horrifying image. 

Draco lounged back as he stared at the lake. ‘Oh, mother. You know you thought you had a son? Well, surprise.’ 

He said this very caustically as Hermione winced. 

‘Oh fuck,’ she spluttered as more tears formed. ‘I can’t stop bloody crying. My mum’s going to go mental.’ 

Draco sat with her in silence as he watched himself crumble.

A moment later, he joined her. 

Several hours later, they managed to get the bulk of the shock out of their systems. 

They both felt much better for it. 

Hermione was slowly pulling herself together. 

‘So, that’s what rock bottom feels like,’ she said in a wry tone. 

Draco gave a small snort. ‘The only way is up.’ 

‘I’m actually starving,’ she announced. 

‘It’s been an emotional day.’

Draco said the understatement of the century. 

‘Dinner will be ready soon,’ Hermione said as she turned to look at herself. It was still disorientating to witness herself sitting in front of her. 

‘Remember the excuse. Both of us have headaches, so we’re both a bit quiet. We’ll make notes tonight, and we’ll meet here tomorrow morning at nine to go over them.' 

Hermione looked a little anxious. 

‘What?’ he asked. 

‘The dorm room. Um..’ 

‘I always charm the drapes to lock. You can do the same. No one can get in. None of the guys will bother you anyway, as far as they're concerned, Father is still in his inner circle. Trust me; they won’t disturb you.’ 

Hermione still looked uncomfortable. 

‘If it bothers you that much, then why don’t you sleep in here? You can close the drapes in the dorm if you want to give the illusion you’re in there. None of them will say anything. I was away many nights in my sixth year.’ 

Hermione felt a lot of relief at that as Draco raised an eyebrow. 

‘I’ll do that,’ Hermione said quickly. 

‘Oh, right. Is it the thought of a group of smelly boys near you that vexes your delicate sensibilities so much?’ he asked with a twitch of his mouth. ‘I assure you, they’re all house-trained.’ 

Hermione waved her hand in the air in a very feminine manner.

‘Hush.’ 

Draco grimaced. ‘Please, don’t do that in public. There are enough rumours about me already.’ 

Hermione actually laughed for the first time that day. There had been some speculation amongst some of the witches about which team Malfoy played for. 

Draco pursed his lips.

‘Just because I like to take care of my appearance, people insinuate things. They are always so quick to stick on a label.’ 

Hermione sniggered. ‘I’ll try and keep it macho, Malfoy.’ 

He eyed her with disdain. 

‘With Parvati and Lavender, I’d advise you to put up a million quietening charms. They are very noisy. Keep the drapes shut. They’re both normally up very early so they shouldn’t bother you. I rarely see them. Oh, stay out of the bathroom between 6 and 7. I made that mistake once. It was like a bomb had hit it. I literally had to climb over their clothing and makeup boxes to get to the shower. Don’t worry if you feel like you don’t exist around them. Lavender and Parvati live in their own little world.’ 

‘Noted.’ 

Hermione looked down at herself and then looked at Draco. She stared at her bushy hair somberly.

‘Try and choose a nice cut, Draco. My hair’s my pride and joy.’ 

Draco grimaced. ‘Yes. It’s an impressive mane, but there is just so much of it. It needs pruning.’ 

Her face fell. 

‘It’ll grow back,’ he said with a comforting tone. ‘When we switch back, you can grow it down to your knees if you like.’ 

Hermione gave him a small smile. She appreciated his positivity. She had taken what he had said on board. They had to be realistic and work within certain lines, but still maintain hope.

‘We will switch back. Magic wouldn’t keep us like this.’ 

‘Let’s hope you're right,’ Draco murmured. 

‘I usually am,’ Hermione said in a smug tone.  

They stared at each other again. 

'It could be worse,' Draco said. 

Hermione gave him a brave smile in return. 

Chapter Text

‘Are you ready to face this?’ Draco asked her. 

‘No, but I am hungry,’ Hermione admitted. ‘We just need to keep our heads down and then get an early night and, oh, shit.’ 

'Pardon?'

'Our handwriting. The Professors will notice the difference.’ 

Draco flinched for a moment and then breathed out and gave her a small smile.

‘It’s ok. I happen to know a very useful spell that applies to that area.’ 

Hermione brightened. 

'Which is?' 

‘It’s very slightly illegal. However, that’s the least of our worries.’ 

Hermione scowled but accepted his observation. 

'What's the spell?' 

‘Father taught it to me. I’ll need to scan your handwriting whilst doing the incantations. You’ll need to scan mine. Our wands will retain the information. It can only store one at a time, though. You’ll need to wave your wand over the parchment and say Forgio and magic will change whatever you’ve written into my handwriting. It’s foolproof.’ 

Hermione gave a big sigh of relief at this solution. 

‘Can you try to maintain our high standards in class, please? I don’t want my grades to suffer.’

‘Of course, Miss Granger. Heaven forbid we slack off in Charms for any reason.’ 

Hermione gave him a smile that faltered once she detected the heavy sarcasm. 

She let that one drop. Draco was trying with her. She was trying with him. 

‘Come on, then,’ she said as they began to saunter to the door. ‘Remember, if it gets too much, just excuse yourself.’

‘If you need to speak to me, just tug on your right ear. I’ll do the same.’ 

‘Ok.'  

‘We’ll meet back here in the morning. I have an invisibility cloak in my wardrobe. It’s in the back. Use it when you can. I have a lot of eyes on me this year.’ 

Hermione nodded, then froze.

‘Bugger. The Marauder's Map.’ 

‘What map?’ 

‘It’s how Harry was able to track you the last time. It’s a map that shows where everyone is in the Castle.’ 

‘You need to get hold of it.' 

‘I won’t be able to get close to him looking like this. You’ll have to do it. It shows people’s names. It’s only a matter of time before he sees us both together.’ 

‘Does it show this room?’ 

‘No, but it does show the corridor. If he sees us together, believe me, he will become obsessed with us. He was stalking you daily through it in our sixth year. He knew you were up to something. He always has it on him. We won’t be able to steal it. He’ll just Accio it back anyway. I can’t destroy it. It was his father’s. It means a lot to him. He will never forgive me if I did that.’

‘I could say I need to borrow it when you’re coming to meet me, or...’ 

Hermione looked at him expectantly as Draco srunched up his face in deep thought. 

'Or what?' 

‘I can tell him that I think you’re following me. That I believe you’re plotting to do something to me. He will lend you the map if he thinks it would protect you. He cares about you a great deal. He’s already suspicious of you, well me, or….’ Draco trailed off as he contemplated his next words. 

‘What is it?’ Hermione asked. Draco looked most agitated.

‘That won’t work. Potter was losing it in the sixth year. We had that fight in the boys' toilets. He used a spell on me. Sectumsempra, I think it was. It ripped me to shreds. I have never felt pain like it. It was worse than the Cruciatus.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that admission. 

'Snape got to me in time. He fixed me up, but I still had a lot of scarring. Potter’s cracking up this year. He could very well lash out at you if we set you up as the bad guy. If Snape can’t get to you…’ Draco trailed off.

Hermione remembered how distraught Harry had been about what he’d done to Draco. If he did hurt Hermione, he’d never be able to forgive himself. If Snape couldn’t get to her and she died….

Hermione blanched at that dark thought. Would they change back if one of them died during this mission? Would it be her body appearing on the floor, ripped to shreds? Harry wouldn’t be able to get over that if that were to happen. He wouldn't be fit for purpose. 

‘I’ll need to take a look at that map and find out what magic has us down as us,' Draco told her. 'If our real names are on there, then we’ll have to find some way for him to give it to us. We’ll need to approach this from a different angle.’ 

Hermione gestured to him to continue. 

‘If magic has changed our names to match our new situation, then if Harry spots us together, it may be a case that we have to concoct a believable fantasy as to why we’re spending our time together.’ 

‘Any ideas?’ she asked. 

‘A good lie needs to have a basis in truth. We could say I’m, well, you want to help the Order from the inside. I know Potter has a connection to Voldemort, but the Dark Lord never intended any of my family to survive in the end. He was just stringing us all along. He proved that at the battle.’ 

‘Harry would never believe that you were helping us. He thinks you’re evil at this point. I, er, well, later that changes. When you didn’t sell him out at the Manor, his opinion changed.’

‘Well, we could embellish. It will take a great deal of credible acting on my part and yours, but it might just work.’

‘Which is?’ 

‘If he starts getting suspicious, then we can say that you and I are involved romantically.' 

He listened to the audible scoff with a frown. 

‘Harry would never believe that. You and I had been awful to each other for years by the time we got to the sixth year.’ 

‘Precisely. We can say we were putting on a show for the eyes and ears at Hogwarts. That we’ve been secret friends for years, but we kept quiet to protect my parents. I can say I was in on it. We tell him he has to keep silent about it. He’d do that for you.’

Hermione stilled as her mind debated the variables. 

‘In a way, it’s not far from the truth. In the end, Voldemort was going to kill me for betraying him. He knew I didn’t care anymore about the ideology. He knew I wanted him gone.’ 

Hermione inhaled sharply. They hadn’t broached the blood issue yet. 

‘What are your true feelings about blood status?’ she asked before she could stop herself. 

Draco looked at her with a helpless expression.

‘Ideas and theories are one thing. The reality was something else.'

Hermione gave him a cautious look. 

'What is your reality now?'  

‘You’ve always been better than me in class. Not by much, but still. I had the best tutors in the country growing up. I am clever, but even with all my advantages, you were still able to beat me. It didn’t matter how much I pushed myself. You were always one step ahead of me.’ 

Hermione stared at him in silence.  

‘Potter is a half-blood,’ Draco told her ruefully. ‘He’s exceptional at flying. I’ve seen him on the Quidditch pitch. What he can do in the air is unprecedented. It’s been very vexing and beautiful for me to watch him in action. I know you don't much care for flying, but he is amazing up there. He’s very powerful magically. Dumbledore is also a half-blood. He’s better than any wizard since Merlin.’ 

Hermione softened her gaze as Draco shared his views with her.  

‘The Dark Lord is also a half-blood. As twisted as his politics are, that is a fact. Crabbe and Goyle are purebloods. I have watched them struggle with even the most basic magic.’

‘Ok,’ she said softly. 

‘The pureblood ideology is just rubbish,’ Draco said with finality. ‘There are some brilliant purebloods too. Professor McGonagall is awesome. In our class, Daphne is very talented. So is Pansy, but it’s certainly not worth all this fighting. It took me a long time to see the truth. Blood has nothing to do with how good or bad you are at magic. The evidence is all around us. It shouldn’t matter in our world who your parents are. It doesn’t make you a better witch or wizard if both your parents are magical.’ 

Hermione gave him a small smile. It had taken Draco a long time to get there, but he had finally arrived at his destination. 

‘Tradition is, well, it does matter to me. I do respect old magic. It’s important to carry on with that, but this, what Voldemort is doing, has nothing to do with the old ways. He’s just crude and vicious, and he’s going to destroy everything of value we have.’ 

Hermione gave a firm nod. 

'It appears we're both in agreement about that.'  

‘Look, it’s always best to have a Plan B. If Harry gets suspicious, asks us questions and then doesn’t believe us, then I’ll do a memory charm on him and hide his map in one of the Rooms of Requirement.’ 

‘You can’t do that to Harry.’ 

Draco tutted. ‘We’re doing this for Harry. To save his life and everybody else’s. It’s one memory charm and one map. In the whole great scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. Potter will cope. He’s a big boy. He can't know about us. He can't know about the time travel. He can't know we're each other now. Voldemort can get into his head. As far as Voldemort is concerned, I'm just Lucius's spawn. Some little kid sitting at the table who is way out of his depth. To him, I'm irrelevant. I want to keep it that way.’ 

Hermione stamped her foot in anger as Draco watched as both of her wrists shook in frustration. 

Draco sighed as he watched himself throw a small tantrum. 

'Have you quite finished?' he drawled. 

Hermione gave him a disgruntled look as he rolled his eyes at her. 

‘Whatever happens, do not ever do that outside of this room. I’d never hear the last of it. When you get cross, punch a wall. It’s far more manly.’ 

Hermione scrunched her face up in annoyance. 

'Noted,' she hissed. 

‘There's also another thing I need to discuss with you. I want to make some improvements, er, I mean changes to your wardrobe.’ 

Hermione clicked her tongue. 

‘Right,’ she muttered, then gave an exasperated huff. 

‘It won’t be anything too drastic. I’m going to add some more tailored and fitted items to your meagre collection. You need some actual designer clothing that matches and is colour-coordinated to suit your complexion. You have gorgeous skin. You need to accentuate that. The clothes you own do absolutely nothing to flatter your figure or face. Everything you own is working against you. I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, Granger. It is vital this calamity is rectified.’ 

Hermione eyed herself with a morbid expression. She was feeling many conflicting emotions at this avalanche of constructive criticism. 

‘I’m going to be purchasing you some stylish ensembles on your behalf. You may keep them when we switch back. I insist. Consider this a gift from the House of Malfoy. Mother would understand. Father too. This is critical. Clothing is like the air we breathe. You have no items that are purely for decoration. This is very neglectful on your part. Everything in your wardrobe only serves a purpose. You need a few items that suggest you have some flair. I feel wretched if I’m not dressed well. Clothing is a part of you. It’s as essential as the five senses. I believe fashion is the sixth sense. I’ll be buying you some tasteful accessories too. Your jewellery collection is woefully inadequate. I’ll also purchase some nice perfumes. Mother has a splendid collection. I’ll need to do some tests and see what scents respond best to your pheromones.’ 

Hermione gazed at him blankly. She gave a small scoff.

‘And you actually wonder why people gossip about you. Unbelievable.’ 

‘Hey,’ Draco said in an impudent tone. ‘Image is everything.’ 

Hermione looked to the Heavens for inner strength. 

‘Right, Claudia Schiffer. I’ll leave you to focus on what truly matters. In the meantime, I’ll be focusing on saving us from the Age of Voldemort.'

Draco gave her a sneer as Hermione took a step back. She had never seen that expression pass her face before. She looked rather intimidating. She peered at him curiously. 

‘I am just as focused as you are, Granger,’ he snapped. ‘I just need to look good whilst we’re doing it. Running about in oversized, lumpy jumpers and dull slacks is not going to work for me. Don’t even get me started on your shoe collection. How do you even walk properly in those clumpy brick things? Once I’m back in proper clothing, it will help me concentrate better. This means I’ll be better equipped to help you.’ 

‘Ok,’ she admitted defeat. ‘Whatever works for you.’ 

‘Good,’ Draco said in a surly tone. ‘Now, we'll go to dinner. I’ll try to get a peek at Potter’s map. We’ll go from there.’ 

‘Right,’ Hermione sighed.

She was already exhausted, and she hadn’t been in Draco’s body for even a day yet. 

They left the room in a slightly dreamlike state and made their way down to the great hall.

Hermione went first as they parted ways. 

Draco took his seat next to Harry, wearing quite possibly the most nonchalant expression he had ever worn. This would take every last piece of his natural acting abilities to accomplish. 

‘Harry,’ he murmured. ‘How are you?’

‘Oh, hi, Hermione. Where have you been? We’ve missed you today.'

‘I’ve had a headache,’ Draco said. ‘Still got one actually. I’ve been resting.’ 

Harry looked at her with concern.

‘Have you seen Madam Pomfrey?’ 

‘Yes,’ Draco lied. ‘The potion helped. I may need some more. It’s been off and on all day.’  

‘You work too hard,’ Ron said through a mouthful of food. ‘That’s your problem. You need to learn how to relax.’ 

Draco looked opposite as a large sausage went into the black hole that was Ron’s mouth. He turned back to Harry as he tried to ignore the meat debris being demolished in Ron’s mouth.

The chomping sounds of mastication flittered across the table. 

‘Could you eat that a little bit more discreetly?’ Draco hissed. ‘Try at least to close your mouth when you chew.’  

Harry snorted.

‘Good one, Hermione. That’s a blast from the past. I haven’t heard that one since the third year. Remember, you gave up after the strawberry trifle incident.’ 

Draco gave a small smile in response for want of something to say. 

He began to help himself to some food. He glanced across to the Slytherin table, where he watched himself eating quietly. Blaise sat next to Hermione. He watched himself nod politely to whatever Blaise was saying. Pansy was sitting further down. 

He watched Ron out of the corner of his eye as he chewed on some potatoes. Despite the gossip, Draco was, in fact, straight. He wasn’t ignorant, though. He could be objective. He pondered Ron as one was likely to do and tried to see him through Hermione’s eyes. 

He knew Ron didn’t take any crap. He was a tough fighter. He had stood up to Voldemort to defend Hermione. Draco looked away as more food was destroyed. 

He couldn’t for the life of him see what Hermione saw in him, other than him being a good bodyguard. They had been friends for years. He knew Ron had been one of those fighting at the Ministry. Ron was so loud, though. He was like a bull in a china shop. He didn’t appear to possess any sensitivity in the slightest. 

He shrugged to himself. Maybe Ron was different when it was just the two of them alone. He hoped so anyway. He had a lot riding on Hermione’s common sense. 

He just couldn’t see what the two of them had in common. Hermione was a very precise, orderly person. Ron was all over the place. 

Perhaps it was simply a case of opposites attract. Draco mused at this as he ate quietly. Harry was chatting with Neville. 

Draco waited for a lull in the conversation. 

‘Er, Harry,’ he asked. 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘Can I borrow the map for a little while? I need to check something.'

Harry frowned as he pulled the map out of his inside jacket pocket.

‘Sure, but what is it you're looking for?’ 

‘I’m thinking of making one myself,’ he said. He actually was. 

Harry passed it over.

‘Again? Good luck. I thought you said it was borderline impossible.’ 

‘That was then. I’m getting more confident. I want to see how all the charms work.’ 

‘Well, there’s so much more in there. Even Sirius couldn’t remember how they managed it.’ 

Draco watched as Harry’s expression seemed to falter. 

Draco inwardly grimaced. Sirius had been killed at the Ministry. His demented Aunt had been bragging about it for days.

‘Thanks,’ Draco said as he sat back and opened up the map.

His eyes widened at the sight that greeted him. The map was the work of a genius. His eyes scanned the layout, taking in all the names scattered here and everywhere. He saw Filch’s name moving down a corridor to the Great Hall. 

It worked in real time. Draco watched as Filch himself turned into the Great Hall, and the map showed what happened in front of him. 

His eyes looked down at the map and the Great Hall as his eyes ran up the Gryffindor table. Hermione Granger. He breathed a sigh of relief. His eyes went to the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy. 

Magic had recognised the switch. His heart sank a little as reality set in. Magic was in on this. 

He watched Hermione’s fingers touch the parchment delicately as he perused it. He could feel trails of magic emanating from it. 

He stared down at all the names on here. So many of them would be killed in the Battle. He glanced at Harry. He had many conflicting emotions toward the boy who lived. His eyes glanced to the scar on his forehead, and then he looked back down at the map. 

‘It truly is a work of art,’ he said in a quiet voice as Harry leaned towards it. 

‘It really is,’ he said softly as he smiled at who he thought was Hermione. Draco smiled back. He had never had Harry smile at him. His emerald eyes sparkled. 

Draco understood implicitly at that moment why Hermione was friends with him. Harry radiated warmth towards her. Harry felt similar to Pansy in that way. 

He glanced at Ron, who was shovelling more grub in there. Draco tilted his head in contemplation. No. He just didn’t get it. Still, it was early days. Ron must have some admirable qualities. Hermione seemed so sure about him. 

He passed the map back to Harry.

‘I was right before. Duplicating that is most probably impossible. Maybe when I’m older.’ 

'I’m sure you’ll manage it one day, Hermione. If anyone can do it, you can.’ 

Draco gave him a Hermione smug look. 

It was vital he stayed in character. 

Harry had pursed his lips as he looked across at who he thought was Draco. 

‘What do you reckon now about Malfoy?’ Harry asked in a whisper. 

Draco gulped and gave a slight shrug. 

‘He’s been acting weird. Well, even weirder than usual. I saw him yesterday. He just stared out the window for ages. I’m not exaggerating. He must have stood there for at least half an hour.’ 

‘What? You timed him?’ 

Harry nodded vigorously.

‘Look, I know you think it’s nothing, but he was acting shady at Borgin and Burke's. He’s not being his usual self. He’s been quieter than normal.’ 

‘His father is in Azkaban. It’s bound to be getting to him.’ 

‘I get that, but no. Something is going on with him. I know it.’ 

Draco didn’t respond as Harry leant closer.

‘When we were in Charms class, I saw his tie. It had a stain on it.’ 

Draco gasped. Salazar. He must have been very out of sorts to be seen in public looking unkempt. 

Harry nodded knowingly.

‘Exactly, I thought that would wake you up. Malfoy doesn’t do stains. He is always immaculate.’ 

Draco glanced across at Hermione, who was making small talk to Blaise as she kept eating. 

‘I, yes. I think you're right. Something’s very wrong with him,’ he admitted. 

Harry nodded even more vigorously. 

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Draco said. ‘Just keep doing what you’re doing. Let me know if you think he’s a danger to anyone. We can go to Dumbledore. Make sure you have evidence, though. We can’t go to him with just a hunch.’ 

Harry patted her arm.

‘Thanks, Hermione.’ 

Draco gave him a supportive smile back.

Draco finished his meal and made his excuses to leave. Hermione’s bed was looming. He needed sleep, and lots of it. He was going to close and lock those red and gold drapes and lose himself in unconsciousness. 

He took one last incredulous look at Ron, who was inhaling some ice cream and wondered again about Hermione’s taste in men. 

Hermione watched him leave and, after five minutes, made her excuses. Blaise had been fine. She had made idle chit chat about a Runes problem he had. Blaise didn’t ask her anything personal, which she was relieved about. Pansy had given her a few dismissive looks that she pretended to ignore. 

She made her way back to the Slytherin dorms. Draco had given her the password as she let herself into the cool rooms in the Dungeons. 

She made her way into the boy's dorm and took a critical look around. She stilled as her eyes found the sleeping form of one Vincent Crabbe. He was only in a pair of shorts. She inhaled sharply. She had coped with living in the tent with Harry and Ron. That had been awkward enough at times. 

As she watched Crabbe breathe in and out, his sweaty, large frame undulating, she felt overcome with a sense of anguish.

A deep, long fart came out of the sleeping wizard, which shook the bed. 

The stench the young man could generate made her eyes water.

Hermione almost burst into tears, but sheer disgust got her moving. 

She pulled out Draco’s trunk. She rapidly emptied his wardrobe, filled his trunk, and then shrank it, closing and locking the drapes. She acquired Draco's toiletries from the bathroom and put them in a bag that she slung over her shoulder.

She couldn’t live like this. She had considered spending some time in here for appearance's sake, but found it was asking the impossible of her. 

The smell of testosterone and Crabbe was everywhere. She pulled Draco's invisibility cloak over herself. 

Defeating Voldemort would require sacrifice. She understood that completely. She had even changed her sex, albeit unwillingly.

Hermione Granger did draw a line, though.

She was going to attempt to be as authentically like Draco as she could, but even defeating Voldemort wasn’t worth putting up with a half-naked Crabbe. 

She left the Dungeons feeling a lot lighter. 

Chapter Text

Hermione chose her own bedroom from home in the Room of Requirement. She needed some sanity in her life. Today had been a whirlwind. She packed away Draco’s extensive wardrobe, making sure she was very careful with the many items and then sat on her bed and stared at the wall. It was all she could manage for now.

She would start her notes in a while. She was simply too disturbed to put quill to parchment right now.  

She wondered what Draco’s idea of female style was. All she kept picturing in her mind was Narcissa Malfoy. She grimaced. If Draco was going to be gliding around Hogwarts in silver gowns, she’d never live it down. If he dared put a tiara on her head, he would face the wrong end of a stunner. 

Hermione’s lips twitched. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t interested in looking nice. It’s just she was currently in the process of saving the world from a Dark Lord, and clothing and accessories had taken a natural back seat to that. 

Perhaps she was overdue for an image change. Even her own mother had been nagging her to buy some new clothes. Hermione faltered. Her mum had been leaving out catalogues for her and circling nice outfits. She knew she was a little unusual compared to most of her peers. She was a high achiever and focused very much on her academics, but even she knew on some level that it should be the daughter nagging her mother for new clothing.

She exhaled. Everyone would assume she was going through a weird phase. She had never paid attention to fashion. She closed her eyes. Ron was bound to take the piss. He made fun of her a lot. He made fun of a lot of people. 

Still, he'd be taking the piss out of Draco, not her. Hermione allowed herself a smirk at that. Draco could be a total bitch when he needed to be. He was more than equipped to deal with Ron's put-downs.

She rubbed her temples. It would take months to grow her hair back when they switched back. She frowned. They would switch back. She knew Draco, and she had prepared for the worst. They were both pragmatic people, but they would change back. They had to. 

She considered her hair. It hadn’t been shorter than mid-length since she was a kid. Since before Hogwarts. Merlin, that was so long ago. She touched Draco’s eyebrows. He’d better not get tweezer happy. She liked her eyebrows big. She thought they gave her a more imposing look. She could grudgingly admit her hairstyle wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. 

She’d dye his hair black if he dared to pluck, simply to sound a warning. That would resonate deeply with him. She never knew he was so vain. Well, she had. She hadn’t realised just how seriously he took it. 

She considered Draco. He was better than he had been. He wasn’t spiteful like he had been when he was younger. He was still sarcastic, but he wasn’t hostile towards her. To be fair, she hadn’t seen him act like a pompous git since Dolores Umbridge was running the school.

Strewth, that year had been arduous with that horrendous toad in charge. Harry had borne the brunt of it. He still had those dreadful scars on his hand from her sick punishment with the blood quill.

I must not tell lies. 

Hermione shook her head. Dolores was insane. She hadn't been surprised she'd aided Voldemort. They were both very alike. 

She scratched absentmindedly at the stubble on her chin. Draco had been a little weird for a few months when they had come back to their sixth year, but it wasn't until the spring term that she noticed he seemed much more unsure of himself. It was the subtle things. Well, it hadn't been that subtle, but she had noticed how the younger kids weren’t being barged out of his way. He had stopped the sardonic comments in class. 

Snape had partnered them up once in Potions class. Even Pansy had sighed wearily at that decision by Snape’s. Hermione had suspected it was a cruel joke at both of their expense at the time, but knowing what she knew now, it was possible that Snape had been observing Draco's reaction to her. 

Draco hadn’t said one word to her for the duration. Not one insult had passed his mouth. He hadn’t made eye contact with her. Well, he had. Just the once, but it had been impossible to decipher at the time. 

Now she recognised it. It was the same look he'd had on his face when his parents had been killed. It had been one of utter despair. 

Snape hadn't put them together again after that. 

Draco had been open with her today. Too open in some parts. He wasn’t as uptight about her about the physical implications of their swap. He was resigned to it. 

He still had an edge, though. Hermione sighed. They’d need that in the future. Both of them needed to retain their natural arrogance. This mission was not for the weak-minded. 

She had seen him looking at the map with Harry. He hadn’t looked alarmed. He’d looked very interested in the parchment. She could only assume their names had also been switched by magic. Harry had seemed relaxed with him. Hermione had watched with interest as Draco had adopted her body language around Harry. He had paid more attention than she had realised to them both.

Her posture was almost always informal when she was with Harry. Draco had mimicked that perfectly. She had watched herself say something to Ron. She had looked quite irritated. Perfect. Not one of the Gryffindors looked remotely suspicious. 

Hermione gave an audible sigh. Harry was going to be livid when he found out he had been chatting to Draco like they were good friends. She bristled. This was justified. What they were doing, if it worked, would actually save lives. It would give Harry a chance to fulfil the prophecy. 

She lay back on the bed, closed her eyes, and let her mind float. 

‘CROOKSHANKS!’ she hollered. 

She sat back up in an instant. Bugger. She’d forgotten her cat. Under the circumstances, this was understandable, but she still felt a stab of guilt at her oversight. 

She relaxed. Crookshanks loved Hogwarts. He had plenty of places to explore and lots of hiding spots where he could sleep. The elves always gave him some food from the kitchens if he was on the scrounge. He wouldn’t starve. He’d find her. 

She pursed her lips. Draco even had her magic. Crookshanks would find Draco. Her cat would think he was her. 

That would have made her faint with worry for her feline just two years ago. She would have immediately imagined Draco swinging the cat around by his tail on the Quidditch pitch with a manic look on his face as Crookshanks yowled Hogwarts down. 

Her younger self would have been in dire consternation. In her mind, she would have seen Draco surrounded by his fellow demonic Serpents as poor little Crookshanks was launched into orbit as the frenzied Slytherins cheered him on. 

Tonight, she just let out a shaky sigh, lay back down on the bed, and closed her eyes again. Draco would look after him. She grudgingly admitted to herself that there was a good possibility he’d kick him off the bed, but he wouldn’t be throwing him anywhere. 

She’d change into Draco's pyjamas soon. She shook her head with a feeling of nihilism. Never in a million years did she think her life would turn out like this. 

Draco woke the next morning, refreshed and with a big ball of fur slobbering down his cheek. 

He had that divine, fleeting moment where he didn’t think much of anything, and then it all came flooding back. 

He recognised the flat-faced cat instantly as he gently pushed the sleeping animal down the bed. He had no idea how he’d got in through the drapes. 

He wasn’t as distressed as he had been the day before, but it was still with a sombre expression that he sat up. 

He peered out the drapes and saw Parvati and Lavender applying lipstick. It looked like they were just finishing off. 

‘Morning,’ he said. 

Neither of them turned around. 

‘Morning,’ he said again. He wasn't used to being ignored. 

Lavender turned her head slightly.

‘Oh, er, yeah. Whatever.’ 

This was said in a very airy voice. Lavender turned back to the mirror to finish doing something to her hair. Draco lifted an eyebrow as she fussed over her fringe. Parvati was still analysing herself in the mirror. 

Draco sat back on the bed. Hermione hadn’t been exaggerating. It was like he didn’t exist. 

Parvati and Lavender were both boy crazy. That was common knowledge at Hogwarts. 

They had pestered him on several occasions in the fourth year. He had suspected they had wanted a date to the Yule Ball, but they had quickly grown bored of his disinterest. Draco narrowed his eyes. Actually, now he thought about it, that was around the time the rumours about him began. 

He gave a small huff. He had possibly discovered the culprits. He'd be keeping an eye on them, too. 

Draco just hadn’t been interested in either of them. On the surface, they were nice enough to look at, but they were so shallow it was irritating. Their whispers and giggling were off-putting. They hadn’t seemed to have grown up in the slightest from their first year. Silly behaviour like that from kids was cute. For young women about to go into the big, wide world, it was unnerving. 

Draco remembered the soppy faces that Lavender had pulled towards Ron in the future. It had been so fake. It was as if she were acting a part, but doing it very poorly. Draco sighed. He was literally pretending to be another person, but he suspected both Hermione and he would do better than she had. It had been too over the top to be sincere. 

He'd seen more convincing performances in pantomime. 

He thought of Ron again. Nothing about the redhead should elicit that degree of worship. Ron wasn’t a bad-looking guy. Draco could be honest with himself, but he was hardly a male model. Lavender used to hang off his arm with a simpering look on her face, like Ron was some rock star.

He frowned. Won Won. That’s what she’d whisper to him.

He shuddered. He didn’t know how Ron had stood it for so long. He must have been frightened to finish it with her. Lavender had seemed quite unbalanced. He idly wondered how he had managed to finish the relationship unscathed. He'd ask Hermione. It might be quite useful to gain some tips for his arsenal if he ever found himself in the same boat. 

Draco liked women who at least looked like they thought of things deeper than which lip gloss they liked to wear. His mother was very accomplished and very smart. He’d learnt a great deal from her over the years about all manner of subjects, from art to politics. 

It’s why he liked Pansy’s company so much. She could talk about everything and anything and frequently did. 

Her views on the pureblood ideology had been similar to his in the early days. She respected old magic as he did. As they got older, she had admitted to him in confidence that she didn’t like Voldemort and his methods. She had kept that very quiet in Slytherin. She had been all for purebloods in charge when she was younger, but age and experience had made her see the bigger picture. 

Despite the impression she liked to give, Pansy did have some morality. In her view, specific lines shouldn’t be crossed. She didn’t like the violence that the Death Eaters brought with them. Their brutal methods aggravated her. 

She had written to him about some of the new Professors in what should have been his seventh year.

'They're bloody savages.'

He had been tied down to Malfoy Manor to assist the Death Eaters on Voldemort's orders and hadn't attended Hogwarts. Blaise and Pansy had kept him informed. They had both been bleak places to inhabit that year. 

Draco waited for Parvati and Lavender to leave as he pondered Pansy. Her letters to him in the future had been far too brief and upsetting.

'The Carrow twins are barbaric,' Pansy had written to tell him in one very short note. They had students practising the Cruciatus curse on first years. Failure to comply with this order warranted a beating or worse. 

Pansy had alluded to other things happening in the castle. Draco had read between the lines. 

The briefer Pansy was with him; he knew the more upset she was. 

Pansy had always believed you should only pick on someone your own size. She enjoyed a blazing row. She enjoyed a good old-fashioned magical brawl. Hermione Granger had been wonderful for Pansy, and Draco suspected this was reciprocated. They could both sharpen their claws regularly on each other, and they had always given as good as they got in return. It was a fair fight. It was an insult for an insult—hex for hex. 

His mind wandered back to one of their most marvellous scraps. Pansy had managed to hex Granger from afar as they had all watched pulsating boils appear on a horrified Granger's face. Hermione had levitated Pansy upside down and planted her headfirst into a toilet in retaliation. Draco grinned at the memory. It had been beautiful to witness. 

He'd led the raucous applause. 

Draco understood Pansy’s view. Bullying at Hogwarts was nothing new. Spells from around corners had been going on since the Founders taught there. The Weasley twins had trodden a fine line, but no one got hurt. Humiliated, perhaps, but not hurt. 

Draco had been quite the prick when he had been younger, too. It was better to bully than be bullied. His father had instilled that ethos in him from childhood. 

But.

Draco gulped. Using an unforgivable on kids who couldn't defend themselves was sick. 

He had used the Imperius on the woman who ran the pub in Hogsmeade. Rosemerta had given the necklace to Katie to give to Dumbledore. He'd been out of his mind with worry by that point.

When news reached him about Katie's brush with death, his whole being had entered the twilight zone for the remainder of that term. For all his posturing and malicious shenanigans, he had begun to surrender to the stark truth. He wasn't Death Eater material. He couldn't kill the innocent. It just wasn't in him. 

When Ron almost died because of his idiocy, Draco had been on the verge of catatonia. He had hidden in the Room of Requirement for that entire weekend, despising his existence. The Vanishing Cabinets needed connecting. He had been going mad at that point.

There was finally silence in the dorm. He breathed a sigh of relief. His ablutions were distressing enough without listening to Lavender and Parvati’s twitterings. They set his already strained nerves on edge. 

He picked up the only other top he would even consider wearing and reached for the only passable trousers once more. He had done a quick cleaning charm on them yesterday. He always liked to look clean and groomed. He looked down at the woeful collection. Salazar, this was like being in prison. 

He needed to go shopping immediately. He knew all the best clothes shops in London. Neither he nor his parents were averse to muggle clothing shops as long as they were aimed at the filthy rich. The wealthy understood each other, whether they were muggle or magical. 

He looked at his appearance in the mirror. There was hair dominating everything. He could barely make out her facial features. It would have to go tomorrow. This couldn’t wait. He could barely hang on any longer. He pulled back the mop and tied it up. 

He knew of several salubrious hairdressers in Oxford Street that would take on the challenge. Draco smirked. 

He didn't have an appointment, but slots magically appeared if you waved enough money. 

His quick mind devised a plan as he got himself ready. He was very careful to avoid looking down. It was still mortifying for him to look down and see someone else’s body instead of his own in at least five different ways. 

He’d need to fake a quick illness on Monday. Hermione never took a sick day. It would be believable. There was a secret tunnel that led to Honeydukes. He’d use his invisibility cloak for that. He had plenty of muggle money in his trunk. Even if this took thousands of pounds to fix, it was a small price to pay. People’s lives were at stake. He couldn't take on Voldemort looking like a drab librarian. It was time for fashion to play its part in saving the world. 

He could apparate to London from Hogsmeade. He considered his new body. It might take a few stops. He didn’t know how strong Granger was magically. He knew the best places to land and recuperate if she wasn't as strong as he was.

He looked at Hermione’s reflection in the mirror. Not long to go. He couldn’t assist Granger properly with a dilapidated wardrobe and bad hair as his support system. 

He grimaced when he thought of the Dark Lord. He didn’t even wear shoes. It was all so ghastly to watch his filthy feet and toes mark the pristine marble floors at Malfoy Manor. Draco had watched as the Dark Lord sullied his home with seething resentment. 

Malfoy Manor was exquisite and should be treated with the utmost respect. A desolate look passed his face. His home had been desecrated.  

He turned his nose up at those deplorable images and pushed them out of his mind, and stared again at Hermione’s face. He ran his fingers over her cheekbones. He pondered a simple cut to her neckline, then quickly shook his head. No. He needed something very chic. He ran his fingers over her jawline. He needed her hair off her face. She had striking features under all this crazy bushy mane. 

He needed something functional enough to fight a war in, and also a cut that was easy to style. There would likely be some physical activity in the future, and he didn’t want to make the same mistake his father had made by temporarily blinding himself with a lock of hair. 

He needed to be in full control of his senses. He looked closer at the colour of her hair. It was a very dark blonde. He did miss his blond hair so much. Hermione had permitted him to style her hair his way. He just needed to leave her eyebrows alone. 

He picked out a loose lock and gave them his professional look. He felt a small thrill as the idea came to him.

He scanned her facial features rapidly. He went nose to nose with the mirror. He tilted Hermione’s neck this way and that. He stood back and picked up Hermione’s wand. 

‘Lumos,’ he whispered as he returned to the mirror, his eyes roaming over the face staring back at him as he inspected her skin in the bright light.  

‘Maybe, just maybe,’ he muttered. 

He said the incantation in a tremulous voice with a quivering hand and focused as he had never focused before.

‘Crinus Muto.’ 

His heart leapt into his mouth in delight. 

The dark blonde had morphed into white blonde platinum locks. 

Draco cast a fine eye over his achievement as he watched Hermione’s face smile in relief. A little part of himself came back to him. 

This colour suited her complexion. Not only that, but it also improved it. Her skin was positively glowing. 

It was still a bushy mane; the cut would determine for sure if it would suit him, well, her, but for now, in that bathroom, Draco felt a small sense of peace. 

It would feel much better for him to have his trademark hair back.

Hermione would understand. Possibly.

He scrunched his face up. If she was completely horrified by it, he could change it back in public. Hermione might think it would bring her, well, him, too much attention. That she was notorious already at Hogwarts would have to be spelt out to her. She couldn't attract any more attention to herself if she tried deliberately. 

He was prepared to compromise with her to a point. He understood she would probably want to make some subtle changes herself. 

He was also well aware that Hermione was more than capable of taking petty revenge. She might let his own hair grow out into a mullet just to spite him. 

His sharp mind speculated. She might change it to black. 

He pulled a face. He needed to tread very carefully. 

In private, though, he had a bit of Draco back.  

He reversed the spell with a feeling of well-being. 

Feeling much cheered, he left the bathroom.

He picked up the notes of his personal history he’d made the evening before and prepared to make his way to the Room of Requirement. Hermione and he had a lot to get through. He grimaced. She and Draco had a lot to get through. He shook his head. He had to get it right in his head. Only they knew the truth. 

Crookshanks was still out for the count as Draco made his way out of the dorm room to see himself. 

To the world, he was now Hermione Granger. Hermione, know it all, bossy, demanding, Potter’s best friend, muggleborn, Granger. She was recognised as a warrior against the forces of evil, Death Eaters and Dark Lords. 

Draco lifted his eyes to the rafters at his current situation. He suddenly pictured his mother. Then his father. Working with Hermione Granger was currently his best hope of saving their lives and his own. 

This was surreal. He was still wondering if he was in some vivid dream, and he’d wake up any moment. 

When Neville walked by him and gave him a big smile and a wave, Draco pinched himself. His lips thinned. No, he wasn’t dreaming—that bloody hurt. 

Hermione had woken earlier with a situation that she wasn’t likely to speak to anyone about in her entire life, however long or short that would prove to be. Whatever happened in it, not one whisper of this incident would ever pass her lips to any mortal. Not even Crookshanks would hear about it.  

One cold shower later, Hermione could only sit in traumatised silence as she stared with resentment at her reflection in the mirror. Draco’s face stared back sternly. 

It crossed her mind that she wouldn't even feel remotely comfortable discussing even a smidgen of this with Luna. 

This thought caused an attack of hysterical giggles to explode from within her. 

Hermione eventually composed herself and, with several deep breaths, stood and prepared for the coming day. 

She made her way into the bathroom as her eyes lingered on the shaving foam and razor. It was time. Her chin wobbled as she gulped her tears back. She needed to butch up. 

Draco would be here soon. 

She hesitated at that as she looked at Draco's reflection, as her mind contorted. 

Hermione would be here soon. 

With a less shaky hand than yesterday, she picked up the foam. 

Chapter Text

Hermione had greeted him with a dull smile. He noticed she was a little non-responsive to him. He noticed the slightly bloody nick on her chin as he lifted an eyebrow. 

‘You’ve had to shave,’ he stated. 

He heard Hermione inhale sharply as she refused to look him in the eye. 

Draco had enough tact to leave that line of enquiry alone for now. Hermione, even though her two best friends were male, was most definitely feminine. This must be confounding her. 

‘I,’ he muttered. ‘Put it to the back of your head. It’s only a temporary body.’ 

Hermione made a non-committal noise as she turned to the wall. He watched her walk back and forth, and then another door appeared. 

Within a moment, he found himself in a replica of the Gryffindor common room. 

‘It will help me,’ she said in a low tone. 

Draco nodded uncertainly. Hermione seemed very upset about something. To his knowledge, she had stayed the night here. 

She reached into her bag and put some fruit on the table. ‘Help yourself. I grabbed what I could carry after dinner. I think it’s wise to avoid too much contact with others until we’re confident we can imitate each other properly. I’ll pick some more up at dinner.’ 

Draco murmured a thank you and picked up an apple. 'I'll do the same. Your cat is on your bed, by the way.'

Hermione nodded. ‘He really is the sweetest. He’s so smart too. He’s very independent, but if you could give him a little fuss now and again, I’d appreciate it.’

Draco watched her cautiously. She seemed a little off with him. She wasn’t looking at him. 

‘Ok, I’ll do that. I quite like cats, actually.'

‘I’ve moved your things into one of these rooms. I did pop down to the dorm rooms, but I witnessed something that I doubt I’ll ever be able to scrub from my memory.’ 

‘Ah, yes. Was it Crabbe or Goyle?’ Draco asked with a smirk. 

He watched an expression of revulsion pass his face. 

‘Why do you think I lock the drapes? Believe me, you never quite get used to it,’ he said with a wry smile. 

She turned to him and gave him a frail smile. ‘I saw a partially nude Crabbe. He was revolting.’ 

She heard herself give a bark of laughter. 

‘Yes, that would drive most people away. We’re quite numb to it now, but still. Nott can’t stand it. He sometimes sleeps in the common room when he becomes too overwhelmed.'

She gave him a brittle smile. 

‘Er, I’ll stay in here for the duration,’ she informed him. 

Draco nodded easily. He had been expecting her to retreat from the dormitory. 

‘You were right about Lavender and Parvati. They completely ignored me.’ 

‘Yes, well, unless you're an attractive male, no one else really exists to them,’ Hermione said in a bland tone. ‘Don’t take it personally. Er, when Lavender and Ron get together, expect some smug looks from them both. Ignore it. It’s pointless arguing with them. I gave up by my second year.’ 

Draco appraised Hermione. ‘Well, surely, they’re Gryffindors. Aren’t you lot supposed to stick together?’ 

Hermione gave a wry snort. ‘Some of us do. Why do you think I spent so much of my time with Ron and Harry growing up? I drew the short straw with the girls in my dorm. They’re getting better. They joined Dumbledore’s army. Deep down, their hearts are in the right place. Later on, at the battle, they showed a lot of courage. They’re not bad people. They’re just, well, very juvenile at this point in the timeline.’

Draco absorbed this and flinched when he remembered the part he’d played in sabotaging them. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘If I had known what the future held, I’d have done everything in my power to stop you lot from getting caught.’ 

Hermione looked at him warily. ‘I know,’ she said quietly. 

A silence descended around them as Draco shifted uncomfortably. It was all gradually starting to sink in. The turnaround in both their situations was slowly making itself clear to him.  

‘Er,’ Hermione began to move on from the intense silence. ‘What’s your wand made up of?’

Draco frowned. ‘’Why do you need to know?’ 

‘Because we need to know things like that about each other. We need to know our favourite foods and drinks. What colours we like. The sort of animals we like. Personal things. I need to know what you don’t like, and you need to know that about me. People will notice those sorts of things. I can’t stand cabbage or oranges. If you start tucking into that, people are going to suspect something isn’t right with me.’ 

He nodded as he passed her his notes.

‘These are places we’ve visited. Paris. Rome. New York. I’ve put them into chronological order for you and a brief summary of what I thought about them. I doubt anyone will ask, but you can always add it to a conversation if you want to enhance your performance.’  

Hermione passed over her own notes as her eyes raked over the page. 

Draco sat quietly as he read over Hermione’s notes.

‘Oh, you’ve been to Paris too. Several times.’ 

‘Mm, my parents and I love it there.' 

‘Same,’ Draco told her as he continued to look over the pages. 

He glimpsed his old wand that Hermione had put on the table. It jogged his memory. 

‘In answer to your earlier question, my wand is ten inches. It’s made of Hawthorn wood and has a Unicorn hair core. Yours?’ 

Hermione didn’t answer him. She was staring at him through grey eyes. 

‘What?’ he asked. 

‘The wand chooses the wizard, Draco,’ she said simply. 

He observed her face. She was genuinely smiling at him. 

He watched her take his wand and twirl it in her fingers with delight. 

‘You seem very happy all of a sudden,’ he said in a curious tone. 

‘Unicorn hair means it's the hardest wand to turn to the Dark Arts, Draco,’ she told him. ‘You must have studied wand lore at some point.’ 

He shook his head. ‘Father always said wand lore was akin to horoscopes. He said it was mainly based on theory. That there wasn't much substance to it.’ 

‘It’s real. Our wands choose us. It means your magic is basically light magic. Oh, that’s a relief. I’m holding a wand powered by a real unicorn hair. How lovely.’ 

Draco looked at her again. She seemed happier than she had done as she stroked his wand with care. 

The mood in the room had lifted. Hermione actually met his eyes properly this time. 

‘My wand is 10 ¾ inches. It’s made of Vinewood and has a Dragon heartstring core,’ she clinically told him. 

‘What does that mean?’ 

‘It means it’s powerful. It can be erratic, but it’s capable of very flamboyant magic. It’s been a good friend to me over the years. Please look after it.’ 

Draco nodded as he inspected this new wand. ‘I will. Ditto.'

‘I’ll want it back when we’re ourselves again,’ Hermione said in an adamant tone. 

Draco gave her an encouraging nod. Positivity was vital for them both. 

‘Now,’ Draco said. ‘We have time today to go through the basics. We need to role-play. I need to see how you’re going to play me and vice versa.’ 

‘I saw how you were with Harry. Your body language was spot on. I hadn’t really noticed before, but I’m always so comfortable around him.’ 

Draco smiled at the compliment. ‘You two have always been close. One couldn’t not notice. All that hugging over the years between you two was blatant. You are aware half the school think you two are together, don’t you?’ 

Hermione’s face froze. ‘Do they? No one’s ever said. Well, Pansy’s always making snide comments about us, but no one else does.’ 

Draco sniggered. ‘No, I don’t suppose they would dare.’ 

Hermione frowned. ‘I’m an approachable person.’ 

Draco smiled for a moment. He had thought Hermione was making a joke, but his expression began to falter as he watched her indignant face. ‘Oh, my. You actually believe that, don’t you?’ 

Hermione looked at him with confusion. 

‘Look, Granger. In the nicest possible way, you terrify many of them here.’ 

Hermione looked horrified. 

‘Come on, Granger. You can’t be that naive.’ 

‘I refuse to believe that,’ she said in an obstinate tone. 

Draco bit his lip. ‘Noted. Right. No, actually, this is good. I need to know the inner workings of your mind. I need to know how you think. It will help with my process. I know now that I need to act oblivious to what the supporting cast is up to.’ 

Hermione curled her lip up in annoyance. ‘I live very much in the real world. I am very aware of my surroundings and the effect I have on people.’ 

Draco snorted with derision. 

He got a huff in return. 

Draco smirked. ‘Let’s be honest here. If their names aren’t Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville or Luna, can you honestly say you’ve paid any actual, real attention to anybody else at Hogwarts during all your years here?’ 

Hermione opened her mouth and was quickly interrupted. 

‘Not Pansy,’ he added. 

Draco watched Hermione’s narrowed eyes as she looked him up and down. 

‘What’s Justin’s last name?’ Draco asked with a sly smile. 

‘Justin?’ Hermione asked. She tutted. ‘You’re just trying to trick me. There’s no one at Hogwarts called Justin.’ 

Draco stared at her with an open mouth. 

‘Six years, Hermione. Six bloody years you went to school with him. He’s the posh Hufflepuff.’ 

Hermione looked at him with a blank face. 

‘He got petrified in our second year,’ Draco added with an astonished tone. 

She shook her head. 

‘Nothing? Not ringing any bells with you at all?’ Draco peered at her. 

Hermione looked bewildered at this questioning. 

‘He’s a muggleborn,’ Draco kept pushing. 

Hermione was actually looking at him very oddly. 

‘Are you making this up?’ she asked him gently. 'Are you sure you're not just imagining him? Are you alright, Draco? Do you think you should see Madam Pomfrey?'  

‘He was caught with you and the others by Umbridge. He was in Dumbledore’s army,’ Draco persisted as a small glint of awareness appeared in grey eyes. 

‘Is he the one with the camera?’ Hermione asked. 

‘Fuck me,’ Draco spluttered. ‘How do you not know this?’ 

‘I could ask you why you do?’ Hermione snapped back. ‘Since when has any Hufflepuff been worthy of Draco Malfoy’s attention?’ 

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘The fact his family is the twelfth richest family in the country is of great interest to me,’ he told her with impatience. ‘I’m a Slytherin. It’s our job to know who is who in the Wizarding World. Who owns what? Who controls what? Who can be manipulated? Who can be corrupted?’ 

Hermione frowned at that. 

Draco contemplated her. ‘Daphne has a younger sister in Ravenclaw. Name that sister?’ 

Hermione gave him a bewildered look. ‘I don’t know. Is it Tracey?’ 

Draco bit his lip. ‘No, that’s her friend. They’re the same age. Tracey has sat in many classes with you for six years.’ 

Hermione looked bored at this line of questioning. 

‘I’ll make it a little easier for you. What’s Parvati’s twin sister called?’ 

Hermione shrugged. 

‘What’s Seamus’s surname?’ 

Hermione sighed and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. 

Draco pondered her for a long moment. ‘Hermione. There was a Goblin rebellion in Hogsmeade. In what year did that take place?’

‘1612,’ Hermione said robotically. 

‘What is above Lupus in the constellation?’ 

‘Libra,’ Hermione said in an instant. 

Draco peered at her. ‘How does that great big brain of yours work? I’ve seen you in class. Runes. Astronomy. Charms. Transfiguration. You’re top in all of them. You can remember the names of all the stars in the constellation. You know every spell taught at Hogwarts inside out. Yet you can’t recollect Justin’s existence. Or even Colin’s name come to that. That is actually really rather incredible.’ 

He sounded genuinely flummoxed. 

Hermione pursed her lips. ‘I’ve had a great deal going on, if you must know. I know it sounds far fetched, but I swear, every year since I’ve started here, it’s always been something or other. We’ve been in great peril since the first year. I haven't experienced one quiet month since Professor McGonagall put that sorting hat on my head. It's been infuriating.’ 

Draco watched as Hermione began to count on her fingers in front of him. 

‘We’ve had Voldemort breathing down our necks since the first year. I’ve been petrified. I’ve almost been turned into a cat. Two professors have tried to kill Harry. A Basilisk tried to kill Harry and me. I have had bloody Dementors and an escaped convict to contend with. I had to prevent Harry from getting himself killed in that bloody tournament. Don’t forget that fascist Umbridge. I was almost murdered in the Ministry by a Death Eater.’

Draco watched himself in awe. He’d never heard his voice so shrill before. 

‘I’ve been on the run. Me, on the run. There was a bloody manhunt for me. I saw my face on a most wanted poster. Me. I hadn’t even graduated from Hogwarts, and I was being treated like a felon. I was regarded as a public enemy. An Undesirable. I had to share a tent with two boys who were both suffering from the most extreme bloody mood swings you could possibly imagine. It was intolerable. I’d have preferred living with Lavender and Parvati compared to that ordeal.  If it wasn’t Ron being a moody git, it was Harry. I had to be part of a bank robbery. I watched the light side massacred at the Battle of Hogwarts by a Dark Lord and Death Eaters and now, to add insult to injury, I’m a bloody time travelling Draco Malfoy and that’s just the fucking basics. You know, when I first started at Hogwarts my only ambition was to be Head Girl. Look at what my life became.’ 

At this Draco became concerned as a look of horror passed Hermione’s face. His face. 

He watched her shake it off as she inhaled sharply. 

‘I don’t have time to focus on things that aren’t essential to the war or my studies. If you must know, I’m actually exhausted. This is all I can manage right now. Take it or leave it.’

Draco watched in consternation as his body slumped down and he watched his own hands cup his chin. 

She looked up at him. ‘You know what, I went through most of that before I could even order a white wine in the muggle world. I need to focus on what matters. I'm not interested in Justin’s bank balance. I don't need to know the names of all the students in Hogwarts. I just need to save their lives.’  

Draco tilted his head. ‘Oh, I get it now. Your brain automatically filters out extraneous details to allow more room inside for your mission and your N.E.W.T.S. How fascinating.’ 

Hermione shrunk back at the intent look Draco was giving her. Well, it was her face looking her over, but still. She hadn’t looked that intent since the first time she saw the Hogwarts library. 

‘How intriguing,’ Draco murmured. He brightened. ‘That’s how you’ve always been able to beat me. I’ve got so many things swirling in my mind. You’re like a straight road. Face forward. Destination chosen. You barge ahead and pay no attention at all to the scenery.’ 

‘I don’t barge anywhere,’ Hermione sniffed. ‘That’s your area.’ 

Draco shook it off. 

‘This is great stuff, Hermione. I‘m finally starting to get a real picture of who you truly are. On the surface, you’re normally quite calm, but your inner self is volatile. It’s all simmering under the surface. It’s why you have those sporadic outbursts. You’re resentful. You’re angry. Oh, this is rich stuff.’ 

Hermione watched him write rapid notes. 

‘This is why you’re like you are. You’re so controlling because you have no control,’ Draco murmured. 

‘Don’t psychoanalyse me,’ Hermione muttered. 

‘It’s fine,’ Draco said and gave her a surprisingly warm smile. ‘You’ll get your turn with me, I promise.’ 

‘Why are you smiling?’ Hermione genuinely wanted to know. 

‘You’re much more like me than I realised. It’s going to make playing each other much easier.’ 

Hermione felt a little soothed at this admission. 

Draco looked up when he finished writing and faced her.

‘I’m resentful too. I love my father, but I’m so angry at him for dragging my mother and me into this mess. I’ve had to undo a lot of damage in my mind. What I was raised to believe, what I had put in my head for years, was a lie. They'd been lied to from birth as well.’ 

It was Hermione’s turn to watch Draco now. 

‘I look back at my younger self and I’m so uncomfortable now with who I was. I actually thought I was the good guy.’ 

Hermione looked at him with a shocked expression. 

Draco nodded earnestly. ‘It’s what I believed. I thought anyone not a pureblood was trying to drag the Wizarding World down to the gutter. I thought I was saving it.’ 

Hermione blinked rapidly at this revelation. 

‘I genuinely believed the blood ideology was about dignity and honour. I thought it was about ambition and greatness and everyone else was just trying to sully it all and make it cheap.’ 

Hermione watched herself shake her head. 

‘When I saw for myself was it really was I realised it was none of those things. If we succeed and we can stop him, then my parents and I will be sitting down and having a long talk about all this. I’m done with it. They need to know that I won’t be carrying on with any of this. Tradition, yes. Blood status, no. It only leads to misery. I think my mother is also brainwashed to a point. She’s a Black. She was raised from birth with the pureblood agenda, but I think when push came to shove, it’s not everything to her.’ 

Hermione nodded. ‘Voldemort said she told him Harry was dead in the forest.’ 

Draco nodded. ‘I don’t know for sure why she did that. I think she wanted Harry to have a chance. He’s the only one who can end this. The Dark Lord would have fired a million curses at him if she’d told him Harry was alive. If that still didn’t work, Harry would have been locked up in Azkaban.’ 

Hermione gave Draco a shaky smile. ‘See, your mother didn’t want to live like that either.’ 

‘I know for sure father wanted him gone too. He told me he actually preferred being in Azkaban to being around him. He told me that Voldemort had changed a great deal from who he was. He used to at least treat his inner circle with respect. Something had snapped in his mind. If that doesn’t give you perspective on just how bad Voldemort's got, nothing will.’ 

‘Your mother was very brave to lie to him.’ 

‘Mother loves me,’ Draco said this so matter of factly that Hermione gave a start. 'She knew what Voldemort was doing to me. To them.'

‘I love her. She’s everything to me,’ he continued. ‘We’d do anything for each other. Well, almost anything. I couldn’t kill Dumbledore.’ 

Hermione dare not breathe. They hadn’t spoken about this yet. She looked at the perplexed expression on his face. 

‘It drove me mad. I had got the Vanishing Cabinets working. I knew if I failed to do that then they would both have been killed for sure, but when I was standing in front of Dumbledore, that was something else entirely. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t will it. I tried everything to push myself to do it. I tried to dredge up every last dark piece inside of me to convince myself I was capable, but I still couldn’t do it, even though I knew what the Dark Lord would do to them. Dumbledore offered us protection. I, well, I saw a way out, but then they all arrived and, er, you know the rest.’ 

Hermione stared at herself. She’d thought about what Draco had been ordered to do abstractly, but actually hearing it put like that felt like nails down a blackboard. 

She wondered if it had been her parents with the threat of execution hanging over them, what she would actually do in his position. 

‘It was my father’s punishment for failing to secure the prophecy. Voldemort turned his attention to making my life Hell to get back at him,’ Draco said in a distant tone as he looked at her, ‘Snape took over and did what he had to. Mother told me she had asked him to do that. I think she knew I wouldn’t be able to do it. She knows me better than I know myself. He made an unbreakable vow to her. Dumbledore was one step ahead. Luckily for all of us.’ 

Hermione gazed at him. 

‘It gave my mother peace of mind. Snape and Dumbledore knew all along what I had been ordered to do. Bellatrix witnessed the vow. It got Snape closer to the Dark Lord. It's what Dumbledore wanted.’ 

Hermione nodded. Snape had got the sword of Gryffindor to them. He had made all the difference. If it weren’t for Voldemort butchering the timeline, then Dumbledore's plan would have worked. 

‘I hated everything that happened afterwards. Every minute of it was horrendous, but in a way, sitting here now, I’m glad I went through it. I saw myself for what I was. I saw them for what they truly are. I’ll never be one of them.’

Hermione watched him silently. He said it with such conviction she knew it to be true. 

Draco looked at her in a pensive way. ‘Er, if we’ve not stopped Voldemort by the deadline of the mission, then we’ll need to get the cabinets to work. I think, once we speak to Dumbledore, he’ll agree. We're going to have to imitate at least some of the original timeline. I failed to complete the mission, but Voldemort spared my parents, temporarily at least, because of the cabinets. It allowed Snape to join his inner circle. He will be far more useful to us that way. I heard whispers from Blaise that Snape kept a sort of lid on things in Hogwarts that year. It was bad, but no one was killed. I don’t know what Snape did for sure, but at least Hogwarts wasn’t as bad as the Manor.’ 

Hermione gulped at that. 

Draco scrunched his face up. ‘I’ll prepare you completely for what you’d need to do. How to speak. What to expect. Dumbledore will be in on it. You’ll need to be me completely. I, er, Bellatrix was there.’ 

He said the last part quietly. Hermione paled a little. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘Stop saying you’re sorry,’ Hermione snapped. ‘I know you're sorry.’ 

Draco didn’t respond to that. He glanced at her worriedly. He could hear the echoes of her screams in the back of his mind. 

Hermione gave a loud sigh. ‘It wasn’t you that did that to me. Don’t blame yourself. I know why you couldn’t stop her. I may not like it, but I do understand. If it was my mother’s life on the line, I’m not sure what I’d do in your situation either. You didn't have a choice.’ 

Draco gave a start at that. 

Hermione rubbed her temples. ‘It’s all well and good being moral when you’re warm and safe, but when you're actually in the middle of it, facing it for real, well, it's not that simple. What could you have done? What would have happened if you'd tried to stop her? You would have been killed.’ 

Draco gave her a small smile and then stared into space. ‘He looked so tired, so old.’ 

Hermione looked puzzled. ‘Who?’ 

‘Dumbledore,’ Draco sighed out. ‘He looked utterly drained.’ 

‘Harry and he had been Horcrux hunting that night. It took a lot out of him.’ 

Draco nodded. ‘Did they find it?’ 

Hermione shook her head. ‘No. Someone else had beaten them to it.’ 

Draco looked surprised. 

‘Regulus Black had figured it out years before we did,’ Hermione told him with a slight smile. ‘He turned on him in the end. It cost him his life. It was the only way to retrieve it. Kreacher has it now.’

Draco listened with interest to that. ‘So even a Black follower of his had enough of him,’ he said lightly. 

Hermione gave him a look of assurance. ‘You’re not alone in the House of Black. Sirius always stood against Voldemort. His brother, Regulus, did a very brave thing. You’re doing a very brave thing.’

He watched her bite her lip. ‘Mundungus Fletcher got very light-fingered after Sirius passed. We should have time to retrieve it. I think we should see if Dumbledore is in tonight. I'll take the cloak. We need to tell him the truth. He’ll need to retrieve the Horcrux from Kreacher before Mundungus does. We’ll need to trick Harry into opening it, somehow. Only a Parselmouth can do it. Actually, come to think of it, Ron imitated it very well. Maybe, we can do the same. Mundungus was selling a lot of stuff from the Black house this year. Umbridge caught him flogging his ill-gotten gains in Knockturn Alley, and rather than prosecute him, she demanded the locket. We can’t let her get her hands on it. It was a nightmare getting it off her. We had to sneak into the Ministry with only polyjuice to defend us. Merlin, that was, ugh. They set Dementors on us.’ 

Draco sat open-mouthed. ‘So that’s what you three were doing there. No one could work it out. It sounded so bizarre when I heard about it. They were saying you broke out a muggleborn, and then Potter took a shot at Umbridge, and you mugged her. I wondered if it was some sort of political statement. I knew how passionate you got about the Elves. I remember when you founded S.P.E.W. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. It seemed like something you’d do.’

Hermione turned to herself with suspicion deep in her eyes, waiting for the punchline, but to her surprise, she found none. 

'It was a miracle you three got out alive,’ Draco murmured.  

‘The Dia-dem is hidden in one of these rooms. We’ll wait for the Headmaster for that. He knows how to destroy them. It’s in the most enormous room. It’s the size of a cathedral, but I have a rough idea of where it is. The cup is in the LeStrange vault. That’s going to be the hardest to acquire. We have to do all this as soon as possible. Voldemort can’t travel back this far. We need to replicate them in case we inadvertently change things and he checks on them. Albus needs to do that. We’re not capable. Unless Dumbledore has a better idea, but short of finding the last time turner, I don't see how.’

Draco inhaled sharply. ‘So that’s what that was all about in Gringotts. Voldemort went crazy. He slaughtered so many of the Goblins.’ 

Hermione gave a sharp nod. ‘We don't know for sure which Voldemort that was. It could have been the original one. We only know for sure the time travelling Voldemort was in the Great Hall. He changed what actually happened. I think magic rebelled. The absolute law of time travel is we're not supposed to interfere in the original timeline. He crucified it. What has happened to us shouldn't be happening. We shouldn't have been able to go back this far. He shouldn't have been able to go back as far as he did. He must have changed the time turner somehow. We don't have our other selves here. We're in each other's bodies. This is unheard of. We're creating a new timeline. An original one that isn't interfering in the old timeline. He was in the shadows for most of it, but magic must have known.’ 

Draco gave a resigned sigh. ‘Not like he needs an excuse to kill anyone for any reason.' 

Hermione agreed with him with a murmur. 

He then turned to her with a bright smile. ‘I can’t believe you escaped on the back of a Dragon. That was hardcore, Miss Granger.’ 

She grinned back. She couldn’t detect one iota of sarcasm. He was genuinely impressed. 

‘Well, you know. I have my moments.'

They both stayed in that pleasant moment for a while. It was difficult to separate the people they had been from the people they were now, but they had both certainly turned a corner. 

‘Nagini and Harry need to be saved till last,’ Hermione said in a solemn tone. 'Harry isn't a Horcrux as such, but he has a link to him. It needs to be destroyed and I think Voldemort has to be the one to do it.'  

Draco nodded. ‘Don’t be too morose. Look at it this way. If Voldemort gets a cheap shot in, then Harry has a spare life. Try and look at this as a good thing.’ 

Hermione gave him a pleased look. 

‘You’re calling him Harry a bit more,’ she said in a quizzical tone. 

‘Well, that’s his name. It’s what you call him. I need to get into good habits. So do you. I call Pansy, Pans a lot. I can’t be calling him stupid bloody Potter and scar head. He’ll fall out with you very quickly.’  

Hermione smirked. ‘I suppose I’ll have to pick up the mantle. Harry must be called POTTAH at least once a week from you. He’ll think you’re unwell if you don’t.’ 

Draco had the good grace to give a small snort. ‘What can I say? Old habits are hard to break.’ 

‘What do you think of him now?’ Hermione asked. 

Draco exhaled. ‘Mixed. I can see why you like him so much. The way he looks at you is genuine. He thinks the world of you. You have to remember that our history has been rather tarnished. I would say it was six of one, half a dozen of the other. I was a git to him. To all of you. I put my hands up to that. He could be a git to me too. So could Ron. You will remember it differently, of course.’ 

Hermione gave him a curious look at that. 

‘Look, I thought Potter was a self-righteous moron for years. It all came to a head in our fight. Years of antagonism went into that. There was that incident on the train when he had been spying on me, but even that paled into insignificance compared to what we tried to do to each other later on. I don’t know what he said about it, but I almost cast the Cruciatus Curse on him. I wasn’t in my right mind at all. I’d never have gone that far with him otherwise. He hit back. I don’t think he knew just how powerful his spell was. He looked frightened at what he’d done to me. I reckon both of us knew then that it had to stop. Both of us had crossed the line.’ 

‘I, yes, he did say,’ Hermione whispered. ‘You’re right. He was horrified with himself.’ 

Draco didn’t respond to that. 

There was a quiet then. The mood in the room was far more comfortable than it had been. They both knew they actually had to listen to each other. They had to make peace with each other and move on from the past. 

Hermione stood up and stretched. ‘Here. I’ve been practising being you. See what you think.’ 

Draco gave her a wry look and sat back and observed. ‘Bring it, Granger. I’ll cope.’ 

He watched himself stand up straight. His hands were on his hips as he watched himself lift his chin and pull up his lip into his familiar sneer. 

‘OY, POTTAH, You just wait till my father hears about this.’ 

Draco gave her a round of applause. ‘Wonderful, I particularly liked the scathing tone. I  felt your contempt.’ 

‘Scared, Potter?’ she glowered as she held her wand up as if to duel. 

‘Good,’ Draco murmured. ‘Although, narrow your eyes a little more. I was going for maximum fear. Not that Harry gave a shit.’

Hermione snorted. 

‘Well, look what we have here, Weazle dumb and Weazle dumber. Is it true you all live in a shoe?’ Hermione said in his voice with a condescending tone. 

Draco admired her attention to detail. 'Ah, you remembered. That was a second-year insult, wasn't it?' 

Hermione smirked at him. 'Great insults stick in the mind. You were so caustic to Ron.' 

'He did get me back using the Jelly legs curse,' Draco grinned. 'Ah, those were the days.' 

Hermione smiled at the memory. 

‘I was sort of phasing all of that out by our sixth year so you can tone it down now. If Harry or Ron say anything unpleasant to me, well, to you as me, do retaliate. Stand your ground. I always did. If you don't, that will look off. By this point in the timeline, I had other things to focus on rather than insulting Weasley's financial affairs, as much fun as that was. But good. Yes. I think anyone would be fooled. What you need to focus on in the future is maintaining a condescending tone. Just imagine you are superior in every way to your peers. Keep that thought in your head. It didn’t last for me, but a side of me did quite enjoy that false sense of prestige. I grew up, eventually. It's not real.’  

He watched Hermione lift his eyebrow with a wry expression at this confession. 

‘I’ve mostly grown up,’ he added. 

She sat back down and raised one more point. ‘Er, these clothes you’re purchasing. What sort of style are you thinking of dressing in?’ 

Draco pursed his lips. ‘Don’t worry, Hermione. I’m not going to be dressed in evening balls if that’s what you're worried about. I’ll simply be elevating your current style into a more contemporary one.’

Hermione exhaled in relief. 

‘I’ve noticed that you’re not one for frills and flimsy clothing so I will be continuing that theme. I need you to look natural to any spectators. I can’t have them thinking you’ve had a complete character change. It will look like you've finally discovered fashion, but it won't be a huge transformation. Don’t panic. I shall not be making you look too unlike yourself. I’m making an incognito trip to London tomorrow. I'll be looking at tailored cuts and quality materials. Nothing extravagant. Just tasteful. I shall be buying a range of clothing for different occasions. There shall be evening wear and casual wear naturally. I shall also be buying both of us some heavy-duty leather and clothes made of tough fabrics for when we’re on our missions.’ 

Hermione was intrigued by the passion in his voice whenever he spoke about clothing.  

‘So, yes,’ Hermione watched herself say. ‘I'll be purchasing evening, wear, casual wear and warrior wear.’ 

Hermione felt more comforted at hearing this. 

‘So,’ Hermione asked him, slightly dubiously. ‘Have you been practising me?’ 

Draco nodded. 

Hermione took a deep breath. ‘Right, let’s have it then.’ 

‘You do change depending on who you’re with so I'll have to remember whose who. You are visibly extremely affected by the person you’re speaking to. It’s quite interesting actually just how much your body language and facial expressions adapt to whoever you're speaking with.’ 

Hermione frowned at that. ‘Do I? I didn’t notice.’ 

‘Well, you do. I’m observant by nature. Right now, with me, it’s too bizarre for both of us so I won’t use us as a guideline. We're both extremely out of our comfort zone right now so we're not acting our natural selves with each other. In general, you're very dignified. You rarely speak to anyone not in your social group. You keep most people at arm's length.'

Hermione acknowledged this. 

'You and Ginny are very comfortable with each other. You’re like sisters. Well, sisters that actually get on with each other. You’re so comfortable with each other that you can sit in absolute silence and still be perfectly serene with the other. You speak to her rather quietly and in a very relaxed way. Neville is treated like a little brother to you. You’re incredibly protective of him to the point it’s a little patronising. You fuss over him. He’s not the runt he was so you can loosen the training leads with him. Ron is, how you are with him is unusual. You always seem very slightly on edge around him. You can be erratic. You’re closed off with him sometimes and at other times you seem to look at him like he's your best friend in the world. You tap your fingers on any surface when he’s around. You’re waiting for something. You’re impatient. You're often irritated by him.’ 

Hermione was actually startled by this incredibly accurate insight into the depths of her mind. 

‘How you treat Luna is similar to Neville. You can be quite dismissive of her, but on the other hand, you’d guard her with your life. You always walk slightly in front of her in crowds and check on her often. We’ve discussed Harry. You're good friends, but that is all you'll ever be. There's no tension there. The freest I’ve ever seen you was at the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. You were like a different person with him. You danced like no one was watching. It was nice to see that side of you. I hadn’t been sure you had it in you.’ 

Hermione had stilled tremendously as she contemplated him. 

‘What?’ he asked. 

‘Er,’ Hermione faltered. ‘Do you observe everyone so closely?’ 

Draco shook his head. ‘You’re Harry’s best friend. Whether I liked it or not, our fates were tied to each other. I needed to understand both of you.’ 

Hermione pondered him.

'You still see her as a person.’ 

Voldemort’s revolting voice played in her mind.

Draco had truly seen all of them and it had cost him everything in the future.

He was a better man because of it.

Chapter Text

There had been a shift between them. Being in each other’s bodies was going to bring them closer naturally, but even they were surprised by how well the conversation between them could flow; now they were past the whole blood thing. 

Now they weren’t facing each other over wands at dawn; they had found a sort of camaraderie with each other. 

It was both unsettling and a little bit nice for both of them.

On some level, they knew they had only really seen each other at their worst. War had an unpleasant habit of doing that. 

They both had friends. They both had people in their lives that cared a great deal for them. They knew on some level each other had good qualities. Unfortunately, neither had seen much of that from the other. 

'Still,' thought Draco as he sat with Hermione in the Room of Requirement that day as they compared notes and asked each other intimate questions. 'We're much more comfortable than either of us has any right to be.' 

Draco supposed that the shock and the fact they were both inhabiting each bodies had torn down the gulf between them. They knew each other was an actual human being. That they were each a living, breathing person. They could feel it in every cell in their new bodies. It had taken away the anonymity between them. 

There was no pretence now. They were in this together. 

He looked at himself, sitting there with a serene look on his face as Hermione added to the copious notes she had detailing his life. 

‘Hermione,’ he asked quietly. 

‘Mm,’ she answered. 

‘Er, there’s something that I need to confess to you. You’ll find out eventually. It’s best you hear it from me.’ 

The air in the room suddenly clenched. 

‘What is it, Draco?’ 

‘My arm, your arm,’ he mumbled. 

He watched his own face pale even more than was normal. 

‘You’ve been marked already,’ she stated in a dull voice.

His silence spoke volumes. 

He walked up to her and gently pulled up her sleeve. 

Hermione looked down in a stricken way. She had barely looked down at herself in this new body. She watched a pale arm that did not belong to her appear. 

‘Revelio,’ he whispered as he waved his wand. 

Her eyes looked down at the black winding snake that slid out of the skull's mouth. It was with an almost hypnotic gaze that she studied it. She felt her heart rate flutter as her stomach churned with revulsion. 

Draco used the Disillusionment charm to hide it again as Hermione continued to stare blankly at the bare skin. 

‘Harry suspected you had taken it. He saw you show your arm to Borgin. Harry said he looked terrified. I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to.’ 

Draco watched her steadily. ‘I, er, Bellatrix told me it was a great honour,’ he said in a very dry voice. 'It really hurt for a few weeks. It had died down by now, but you will feel it from time to time.'  

Draco closed his eyes to draw his inner strength. 

He turned to her, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes hadn’t left her arm. His arm. 

‘The Dark Lord insisted I take it. It’s to get through his cursed barriers. When it burns, it means he’s summoning his inner circle. I’m not to respond at this stage. You need to know. It’s best I told you.’ 

Hermione's eyes turned to him then. 

‘You can’t ever get rid of this?’ she murmured in a quivering voice. 

‘It will fade if he is killed,’ Draco said in a quiet voice. ‘There will always be traces of it. It will always be a reminder to me. In a way, it’s for the best. I never want to forget what it did to me.’ 

Hermione stared at him. She remembered when Bellatrix had branded her. Mudblood had been carved into her arm. She had been tainted with a constant reminder. That was gone now, but she could always feel the faint lingerings of that pain in her own arm. His arm. 

Draco stared back at her with a nervous expression in his eyes.  

‘You still couldn’t kill Dumbledore. You didn’t identify Harry. You did that with this atrocity on your arm. You had a connection this strong to him, and you still couldn't will it. What did you think when you had been marked? Be honest with me.’ 

Draco sighed. They both needed full disclosure with each other.

‘At first, my feelings were conflicted. The Dark Lord had chosen me. That part of me that had been brainwashed was thrilled. I was finally playing with the big boys. That arrogant side of me that liked to bully was proud. I thought it was something to brag about. Being able to inflict that sort of terror on others was exciting. That was then. Before my recklessness almost killed Katie Bell.'

Hermione inhaled sharply. Draco was telling her the cold, ugly truth. 

'I was so stupid. It wasn’t an honour. It was a punishment. Mother realised the Dark Lord’s intentions immediately. Voldemort intended for me to fail. He wanted me to fail. He wanted to witness the Malfoy's fall from grace.’

Hermione frowned at that.  

Hermione heard the strangest laugh manifest itself from Draco. ‘Ugh, Salazar. It was a punishment, and I was too naive to see it. I hated the Dark Mark towards the end. For all my bravado, I couldn’t walk the walk. I had tried to force down everything decent in my mind, and it still wasn’t enough. I was a fraud. We all knew it. I was a joke. Even Crabbe and Goyle were laughing at me.’ 

Hermione kept quiet as she watched the disgruntled look on his face. Her own face. It was still a shock to see this.   

‘How’s your Occulmency?’ he asked her. 

Hermione looked confident as she nodded. ‘It's good. I have a natural ability to compartmentalise my mind. Although, against him...’ she trailed off. 

‘I, yes. I’ve already gathered that. He didn’t bother looking into my mind. It was written all over my face what I was feeling around him. Just in case you have to meet him, keep your mind closed, but I doubt he’ll trouble you. Be careful with Snape. It won’t be the end of the world if he does find out about us. He can be discreet, but even so. We're taking a risk just telling the Headmaster. Again, we’ll run it by Dumbledore, but it may be wise just to tell him what the plan is. It will save you both a lot of aggravation. Snape’s on our side. He just needs to know the details so he can prepare himself properly. What Dumbledore has asked him to do is going to take its toll. The less he has to guess, the better. He’s putting his life on the line. This is the least we can do for him.’ 

Hermione sat back as she pulled the sleeve back down. She was very aware now of what lay beneath that smart suit. It made her own skin crawl. 

She stared at him. ‘The Muggles have made great advancements in laser surgery. They use it to remove tattoos, amongst other things. Once we have defeated him, you can get it removed. Maybe not entirely, but enough, so it’s not so, well, blatant.’

He gave her a small smile. 'You sound so sure we're going to change back.'  

He watched her purse her lips. ‘Positive thinking, Draco. We’ll switch. As for this,' she lifted her left arm. 'If I find a way to turn this Dark Mark around and use it against him, I will do.’ 

Draco didn’t doubt the sincerity of those words. 

‘Laser surgery?’ he asked. ‘Muggles can do that?’ 

Hermione gave him a wan smile. ‘I think you'll find they can do most things that we can do. They just go about it differently to us.’ 

Draco nodded. ‘Er, this time, I want my parents under protection as soon as possible. I’ll do whatever Dumbledore wants me to do, but that fact remains. It’s my only condition. If Voldemort is still alive by the time Dumbledore is killed, my Mother and Father need to go underground. If they have to leave the country, so be it. I’m not risking them. I’d advise you to do the same. We’re going to start changing things. Voldemort's one sly bastard. He has eyes everywhere, and the moment he suspects you and I know more than we should, he’ll be coming for all of us.’

Hermione nodded slowly. She had sent her own parents to Australia with memory charms that made them forget her. She knew the lengths she had gone to protect them. 

‘Well, we have eyes too. Harry was using Dobby and Kreacher to follow you. Actually, it was them that found you in the Room of Requirement. Ugh, I wish Harry didn’t have that map. If he sees our names together, he is going to ask questions.’

‘We’ll stick to our plan if Harry asks questions. We don’t have any other option.’

Hermione gulped. It would take Oscar level acting to convince Harry they had been friends for years and were now together. Still, it wasn't like either of them had a better idea. They had the memory charm as the backup if it backfired. Still, even with the memory charm, Harry would still have his suspicions. 

There was a stillness in the room for a moment.

Hermione felt her fingers absentmindedly scratch her arm. Draco's arm. Now she knew it was there; it was difficult not to think of the ominous tattoo. 

‘The Dark Mark,’ she asked in a low voice. ‘Does it make you do bad things?’ 

Draco shook his head. ‘No. It acts as a shield for dark barriers and also as a way of communicating. It won’t actually change your magic or mess with your head. Well, not physically anyway.’ 

She breathed out in relief. She looked at him thoughtfully. 

'What?' he asked. 

'Can you not call him the Dark Lord? Can you call him Tom like Harry and Dumbledore do? It makes him seem less intimidating when you call him by his real name. If not that, then at least just call him Voldemort for now. I think you'll find it helps you cope better. I know it helped Harry and me to think of him as an actual person. Not a Dark Lord.' 

'I'll try. It's just, you know.' 

'I know. Brainwashing,' Hermione murmured. 

They both settled back down. Draco felt a little lighter. He had been putting off telling her, but he felt more of a kinship with her than he had. She already knew the very worst sides of him and she was still hanging in there with him.

Some time passed as they finished their notes and asked some more questions to make sure they had a full grasp of each other’s traits. 

He heard Hermione gasp loudly as he jumped. 

‘Draco, Quidditch! I’m going to have to resign. Well, you’re going to have to resign. There is no way on this planet I am going up there to catch that snitch. It's not happening, not in this lifetime. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I mean that. I literally can’t. I’m not remotely capable. The whole school will know I’m not you if I play a match.’ 

Draco had the rather hilarious image of Hermione attempting to play Quidditch. It would be a farce on an epic scale. 

‘That’s quite all right,’ he said smoothly. ‘Harper has wanted to change to my position for a while now. He’s more than capable of taking over for me. Just say you want to focus on your studies and take yourself off the team. It’s more or less the truth. It's what I did the last time. Did you not notice? We do need the extra time to focus on what we’re doing. Quidditch can be rather time-consuming, what with all the practice.’ 

He heard Hermione exhale with relief. 'Oh, that's ok. No, I didn't notice you quit. I'm really not one for Quidditch. It was all about Ron being made Keeper this year anyway,' she said as her eyes took on a distant quality as she remembered the tribulations with Ron's confidence issues. She pulled a face as she guiltily recalled using the Confundus charm on  Cormac McLaggen during the Quidditch trials to help Ron secure his place on the team.

If she had known what a drama Ron would have made of it all, she would have had second thoughts.

She thought wryly of all that aggravation that took place over a school Quidditch team. Harry had told her that at one practice, Ron had bad-mouthed and shouted abuse at the entire team and then threw a pity party at the end because he hadn't been satisfied with his skill level. Harry had to fake giving him the Felix Felicis potion as a placebo effect to rectify Ron's confidence issues. It had worked, and Ron had been strutting about the castle for days afterwards. 

She stared down at the Slytherin signet ring that sat on Draco's finger as she gently pulled it around. Draco's parents' lives had been on the edge from this year onwards. Harry had a psychopath hunting him who truly wanted to kill him and was actually in his head. She looked across at Draco. At herself. He was writing some additions to his notes about her. 

She had seen for herself the plans the Dark Lord had for her. If not for the time travel she and all the other muggleborns would have been sentenced to a lifetime of humiliation and servitude to be abused and tortured for the rest of their lives. She had known, deep down, what the master plan had been. They all had. It had happened before. Every muggleborn at Hogwarts had been wary of the future. 

Ollivander had been kidnapped by now and forced to make wands for the Death Eaters. Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance had already been killed in this timeline. Death Eaters had murdered Hannah Abbott's mother. The war had already started. 

Despite knowing for certain that all this was already making its way towards them at a breakneck speed, all Ron had cared about in their last year of some freedom was snogging Lavender, arguing with Hermione and throwing a tantrum if he couldn't block a quaffle. He had made it all about him. 

Hermione stifled a grimace. She was still in shock by the body switch. She wasn't thinking clearly. She shook her head to clear her mind. Ron was her best friend. He could be very sweet to her. Sometimes. They bickered a lot, but it was comforting bickering. 

He had stood up to Draco when he called her a mudblood. Although, since when did Ron ever miss an opportunity to hex Draco? Ron liked to play the hero with her, but then, he wasn't actually gallant when the Slytherins weren't around. He was rude to her a lot. He did insult her on occasion. She gave as good as she got, but still. It did get to her sometimes. She had thought he was clumsily trying to flirt with her at times to try and justify it.

He had defended her to Kreacher. An old, erratic House-Elf that couldn't fight back.

She was at the Burrow a lot, although she spent most of her time with Ginny. Ron slept most of the time or played Quidditch with the others. Molly had been lovely to her. Except for that time when Rita Skeeter had made up malicious rumours that Harry and Hermione were dating. Molly clearly wanted to see Harry with Ginny and had been noticeably off with her for a time. Now Hermione came to think of it; Molly hadn't mentioned anything to her about her feelings towards Ron. Perhaps she was indifferent to that. 

Hermione watched as Draco took a sip of water as her mind wandered back through the years. 

She thought she had made peace with their history, but now she was back in the past, and all those bad memories were flooding back. Ron had been hard work in their sixth year. He had messed about with Lavender when he knew she had feelings for him. It had all been resolved. Hermione hesitated at that. It hadn't quite been resolved. There was always something else on the horizon with Ron. 

There was the Slytherin locket. That sorted itself out in the end. Like the Broom incident did in their third year when Ron and Harry didn't appreciate her reporting the broom Sirius had brought Harry anonymously to Professor McGonagall.

Hermione thought it might have been dangerous, and they had both frozen her out for a long time in annoyance. Of course, there was also that time that Ron had been dreadful to Harry for getting into the Twi-Wizard tournament. Hermione frowned. Ron had never actually apologised to either of them for any of it. 

In the back of her mind, she wondered about the perfect future she had envisaged with Ron. She had been waiting for him to mature and turn into the decent man she thought he was. Harry and she had just put his behaviour down to growing up and pressure, but then, Ginny, Neville and Luna had also been under the same sort of pressure, and they never seemed to be so negative towards them.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She had always excused Ron's behaviour as it was clear he suffered from jealousy. He had made that clear with his snide comments about Harry's wealth and fame or Hermione's grades. He insinuated he had a lack of confidence, but then, his entire being was of a very confident person. He lounged everywhere. He liked to pick fights. He could be quite cruel. Even Luna had commented on that. Hermione remembered him mocking her in class later that year, just to spite her. 

Not being in her own body had her looking at herself in a far more abstract way. Perhaps it would be wise to take a step back and have a really good long look at this situation.

With everything she had lived through, it was possible that her perceptions had been skewed. She had many moments where she had felt insecure, and Ron had been a comforting presence. He had been there. Slouching on a sofa. Napping. Eating. Playing chess. He had always been there. 

In their third year, he hadn't hesitated to blame Crookshanks for Scabbers going missing and hadn't wasted any opportunity to berate her and her cat. Hermione mused further. He had rescued her from the Troll, although, in hindsight, it seemed more likely that Harry had been the one looking for her and had dragged Ron with him. She'd been upset and hiding in the toilets because she'd overhead Ron telling all and sundry she was a nightmare. 

The Yule Ball incident had been at an all-time low. He had asked her as a last resort. He had made that perfectly clear that's how he saw her. The last resort. Then he had destroyed that night with his sulking and accusing her of 'fraternising with the enemy,' when he realised that actually, Viktor had wanted to take her. She wasn't his personal property, but he had acted like she was. She'd been having a wonderful night, and Ron had spoiled it for her. 

He had been like that with Ginny too. He had tried to lay down the law to her about her dating life and had tried to forbid her from living her life as she wanted, as if he had some sort of right to control her. It had got him nowhere with his sister. Ginny had been very riled and had torn strips off him. She had told Hermione about it after. 

Hermione had understood why Ron had been so strange with her. He was jealous she had kissed Viktor. Months before. When as far as Hermione was concerned, Ron had only seen her as a last resort. Out of all the girls in Hogwarts, she was the last one he would have chosen to take to the Ball. That was her full knowledge of what Ron had thought of her at the time.

Ron had been unreasonable many times. He had even been jealous of Harry and Hermione's friendship. He had thought they were seeing each other. That he actually thought that either Harry or she would do that to Ginny was bizarre. Hermione narrowed her eyes. Even if Harry and she had been copulating like eels in that tent, it was none of his business. They were not together. They were not his possessions. Ron seemed to think they were, and when they didn't act like his perfect little puppets, he got angry with them. 

Harry had always remained silent when they rowed. Except for once when he had snapped at both of them. If there was one thing that Harry did that irritated Hermione, it was his refusal to actually take a side when it was clear that sometimes you had to. She looked again at Draco, who was fiddling with her bushy mane. 

Was it simple nostalgia that had kept them together? Did Ron have some sort of physiological hold over both of them? She shook her head. No, she was a sensible woman. Harry was smart. Was it Ron's extreme reactions to the slightest thing that didn't go his way that stopped them both from behaving as badly as Ron did? Had they got into the habit of walking on eggshells around him when he was in one of his moods?

When Harry finally stood up to Ron in the tent, Ron snapped immediately. He had stormed out and left them when it became clear that Harry was not going to back down. Hermione had been expecting it.

'Do as I say, not as I do.'

That had been Ron's attitude. Hermione cringed at this. When Ron had returned to the Horcrux hunt, she was told that he had apparently pulled Harry out of the water and had then used the Gryffindor sword that had been planted there to destroy the locket. It had taken less than five minutes. Hermione had clarified this with Harry. 

Harry had forgiven him for everything in an instant. Like he did in their fourth year. Hermione had held out longer but in the end, had given up. Ron had been on his best behaviour. He had been very comforting at Shell cottage. Everything had been so crazy at the Battle. They had kissed. Then it all went to hell.

But what if Harry had succeeded? What if Voldemort had been killed like Dumbledore had set it up to be? What would have happened then between them? Being back in time, it was all starting to flood back to her. It was easy to forget the past when Ron was being kind to her in the future. She was very drawn to him when he was nice. He only gave attention when he really meant it. It seemed to mean more when he did that. He withheld affection if he was in a mood. 

Hermione gave a small gulp at this small fact. Had she been fishing for a few crumbs? He had played havoc with her confidence. He had made her feel less than what she was. Had she been so starved of affection that even just a small amount of attention from Ron seemed like a grand gesture?

All of Ron's issues had seemed to resolve themselves in the future. Probably because there weren't any actual issues to resolve in the first place that wasn't simply in his head. Hermione looked at herself with a considering look. With Draco in her body, it was inevitably going to change the dynamic between Ron and herself. She had been astute enough to see the incredulous looks Draco had given Ron at dinner the night before. Draco wasn't going to be nice to Ron. Draco was a good actor, but he wasn't Olivier. He would be polite to Ron. That was all. 

What would Ron be like now there was an actual issue that actually had a real foundation to it and wasn't just something he'd imagined? Ron was very quick to criticise others, but he seemed unable to accept any form of criticism in return. It would only take Ron giving Draco a few pushes for him to retaliate. She knew Draco well enough to know a scathing comment wasn't far from his lips. A part of Hermione felt dread at this. A small part of her was intrigued to see what would happen. Hermione bickered with Ron. Draco would go for the jugular. 

Hermione watched as Draco ran his hand, her hand, through her hair. 

A little thought prickled the back of her mind. When Hermione had been accepted into the Slug club, rather than encourage her as Harry and Hermione had always encouraged him, he had shit all over it. He had called it pathetic. Was he always going to blame his own insecurities and jealousy for tearing her down? Would he always play the victim as he picked apart her achievements?

She had worked hard to get to the top of the class. That Slughorn had noticed her was a testament to the effort she had always put into her studies. She felt a feeling of annoyance at that. She'd always helped Ron in class and with his homework. He was lazy and always left it to the last minute. He made no effort, she did, and she had got somewhere with it. He hadn't been happy for her. Would it be like that in the future? Assuming they survived this and Draco and she switched back, if and when she got a promotion at work, would Ron just roll his eyes and tell her how useless it was and how he couldn't care less?

Would he expect her to applaud every little success he had and sulk when it was her turn for praise?

Hermione breathed in sharply in realisation at what was causing this vicious train of thought. She was in Draco's body. She still had her soul, but his body. She was simply having a natural, physical Draco response to thinking about Ron. That was all. She was part Draco now, and by his own admission, he couldn't stand Ron. That was it. It was so simple. She was simply having a Draco reaction to Ron, not a Hermione reaction. She relaxed. She wasn't wrong about Ron. She hated being wrong about things. Her mind was stretched, and she was thinking the worse. She and Ron had resolved all his issues, and they had been looking forward to a life shared together post-Voldemort. They were meant to be. 

Her mind thought of Draco's reaction to Harry. He had actually spoken of the boy who lived with warmth. Hermione nodded to herself. That was it. Draco had felt her body's reaction to Harry. She was feeling Draco's reaction to Ron. 

When she was back in her own body, her real feelings towards Ron would return, and they would live happily ever after. 

With that question answered, she focused properly on Draco, who had leant forward with brown eyes full of mirth.

‘It’s a shame you don't want to play on the Slytherin Quidditch team. I would pay good money to see you play Seeker. You’d play it two feet off the ground with your eyes closed, looking terrified. You would ruin my reputation, but it would be worth it,’ he said with a grin. 

‘You’re not mad?’

He shook his head. ‘No. I’m a good player, not a great one. I accepted that a while ago. I wouldn’t be able to play professionally. Harry and Ginny could go pro. Blaise possibly. I can't. The penny dropped for me a long time ago when I compared myself to them. I can't say I was happy about it, but it’s no big loss in the whole great scheme of things. Honestly, it’s all right. We have bigger things to worry about than the House cup.’ 

With Hermione placated, they carried on discussing their personal details.

'Oh, I meant to ask. How did Ron end it with Lavender?' 

Hermione lifted her eyebrows. 'Why? Looking for tips?' she asked dryly. 

'Yes,' Draco answered honestly. 

Hermione gave him a rueful look. 'Er, he didn't actually. After he was poisoned,' she watched Draco flinch. 'Er, when he was unconscious, he was asking for me in his sleep. Lavender heard that. It was the sort of end. It dragged on for a while. She dumped him, eventually. Ron didn't break up with her. He just didn't really talk to her. He waited for her to do it.' 

Draco gave her a supreme look of scorn. 'How convenient that he talked in his sleep when Lavender just happened to be there in those thirty minutes that Madam Pomfrey allows visitors. Genius. He deflected all the blame onto you. How clever of him.' 

Hermione stilled. 

'I knew he wouldn't have the bottle to tell her face to face,' Draco murmured. 'That's good to know. I can fake an illness. Laying there on a hospital bed gets the sympathy vote, then pass the burden to someone else who will have to face her wrath.' 

'It wasn't like that.'

Draco gave a small noise of derision. 'I'm sure Ron went straight to Lavender afterwards to apologise for the faux pas and begged for forgiveness, so Lavender didn't blame you.' 

Hermione didn't respond. 

'Ron would have done well in Slytherin. Did Lavender take her annoyance out on you instead of him?' 

'She wasn't horrible or anything. Just, well. We kept out of each other's way more than usual. Ron didn't plan it like that. I told you.' 

'Ok. Whatever you say. Weasley is a top bloke, according to you. Who am I to judge?' 

He said this so sarcastically that Hermione cringed. 

'Let's move on,' she snapped. 'It won't happen like that, anyway. Neither of us is bringing poisoned mead into the castle. You're not bringing in that necklace. Katie and Ron will be fine. He'll have to find a new way to break up with her.' 

Draco smirked. 'Don't be surprised if he finds another way to put the blame on you.' 

Hermione ignored him and then heard her belly rumble. 

‘I’m hungry again. I’m eating much more,’ she said. 

‘Well, yeah. I’m bigger than you. I need more fuel. I’m eating a lot less.’ 

Hermione paused to observe him. ‘What’s it like, being a man?’ she asked out of the blue. 

Draco gave her a strange look. ‘I genuinely don’t know how to answer that. I'm just a man. Well, I was. It’s not something one thinks about a great deal. It just is.’ 

Hermione tilted her head as she looked at him as if he were a rather complicated maths equation. 

‘Can you elaborate a teensy bit?’ she asked. ‘I know about who you are as a person. I just can’t wrap my mind around that part, although I do agree. I never gave it much thought either, being a woman. Now I do, obviously.’ 

Draco pursed his lips in contemplation. ‘I suppose you learn from a young age that when you're a boy, you have to make sure you’re quite imposing if you can manage it. A lot of males have a sort of pack mentality and like to pick off the weak. I think it’s safe to say we’re more physically aggressive in general than women. Only in general, though. Some women can be rather violent. Some men are quite gentle.'  

His mind wandered back to some of the more destructive moments he’d witnessed between the girls. Milicent Bulstrode went through a phase where she liked to put people into headlocks on a daily basis, much to everyone’s consternation. Even Draco had been subjected to one of them because he’d insulted her cat. 

‘Some men can be quite soft,’ he added. He thought of Colin and Neville. ‘But I think both men and women can be aggressive when they’re fighting properly for something. I’m just talking day to day stuff.’ 

Hermione speculatively watched him. 

'Men like to give the impression they don’t care, but it can sometimes be the opposite. We don’t like to show our more, er, sensitive feelings because other guys can rip us to shreds if we do. Women tend to be less uncomfortable about that sort of thing.’ 

Hermione nodded cautiously at that. Harry had told her Draco had resorted to confiding in Moaning Myrtle of all people in his sixth year. Harry was also very particular about who he spoke to about what he was feeling. Ron was an open book, though. If he was in a mood every occupant of Hogwarts would hear about it. 

‘Again, I’m generalising. A lot of men are not as shallow as I think a lot of women believe us to be, and not all women are sugar and spice and all things nice, either. I think most of us are somewhere in the middle.’ 

‘Anything else?’  

‘It’s a rather strange thing to consider. I suppose it’s nice being taller than a lot of people. I can lift things off the top shelf. I’m physically rather strong. I don’t like to use my wand for everything. I like to know I have that extra power when I need it. Well, I used to have it, anyway. Seeing the world from this height takes a while to adapt to. Not to say you’re short. I’m just quite tall compared to a lot of people, that’s all.’  

Hermione was watching him quite intently. 

Draco pondered her question. ‘I mean, the Wizarding World is quite balanced. Magic is in each of us. I’ve seen Ginny’s Bat Bogey Hex. It’s off the scale already, and she’s not much taller than you, well, me now. She’s stronger than I am magically. I can’t generate that level of raw power. Most wizards can't do what she can do. That changes a lot of the dynamics in our world, I think. I can’t speak for all wizards; I’m sure there are a few pigs out there who want their wife's lives to revolve around them and make a nice home for them while they get to do the fun stuff, but in general, being a man in this world isn't much different to being a woman. Some of our best Quidditch players are women. The things I’ve seen witches do with a wand are incredible. There are plenty of witches working at the Ministry too.' 

Hermione considered his viewpoint. 

Draco scrunched his face up. ‘For witches and wizards, it’s more of an equal footing, I think. It always has been. In the muggle world, it’s getting better, but yeah. The physical advantages of being a man are certainly a good thing, but then, women tend to have the upper hand in the home and with the children. Women tend to be more supportive of each other too. I mean, take away Blaise, and I’m not entirely sure who my real male friends are at Hogwarts. Pansy is real. I know that for sure.’ 

Hermione watched him curiously. He seemed a little unsure about what he was about to say, but after glancing at her, he proceeded.

‘Slytherin is not the easiest place to make actual friends. It tends to be based more on connections. Especially with Voldemort lurking in the background. People don't show their true faces. What you and Harry have is special. To have a friendship like that is incredibly rare. It’s why I need you to tread carefully with Pansy. She’s important to me. What Harry is to you, she is to me. Well, it’s a little different. She’s kind of a mix of Ron and Harry to me. She’ll be very different from what you’re used to because she’ll think you’re me. That's if she ever starts speaking to me again.’ 

Hermione’s look softened. She’d never heard Draco speak so fondly about someone. 

‘I know what we look like to the outside world. All tough and arrogant, but when it’s just us, it’s different. She’s different.’ 

Hermione took this on board. 

‘Mother and father have always been respectful to each other,’ Draco murmured. ‘I suppose, for me, seeing the differences between us isn't something I’ve ever really thought about, beyond, you know, the obvious, er, differences.’ 

Hermione watched herself blush at that. 

‘I mean to say, being a man is just, well, I’m a man. You’re a woman,’ Draco looked a little panicked. ‘Well, we were and I'm sure we will be again. It’s, well, it’s just who we are. I don’t know if we’re that different to each other. Some people carry on like we’re a different species. You know, men are from mars, women are from Venus. I just, I’ve never thought much about it. It never really made much sense to me. People are just people, at the end of the day.’  

Hermione watched him with a slight smile on her face. 

‘That’s a surprisingly healthy attitude to have,’ she said softly. 

Draco nodded. ‘I, well, I’ve always looked up to my mother.’ 

Hermione’s smile faltered a little at that as she pictured the majestic yet snobby Narcissa Malfoy as being a major influence on Draco’s feminism. The unwanted image of Bellatrix flashed into her mind. Draco would be very dumb indeed if he didn’t acknowledge his aunt's magnificent, yet vile, magical abilities. 

Hermione gazed beyond Draco as she pondered the terrifying witch. If only she had been for good. She could have been the Minister of Magic. 

‘Plus, getting beat by you in every test was a bit of a wake-up call when I was younger.’ 

Hermione gave him a smug look. 

Draco stared at her. ‘I saw a bit of you then in my face.' 

‘I see a bit of me in your face sometimes. I suppose because we know the truth we can see it better. We're looking for it.’ 

Draco nodded at that. 

Hermione observed him. ‘So, you don’t have fixed views on the roles of the husband and wife? You don't think that the wife belongs in the kitchen? I mean, how do your parents compromise on the chores? Does your mother take on the more traditional roles like cooking? Does your father do the gardening?’ 

Draco looked at her with genuine confusion. ‘Why would mother be in the kitchen? Only the House-elves need to be in there. We have a professional gardener for Malfoy Manor. The grounds are quite extensive. Our flower display requires a very specific touch. Mother sometimes assists Henry with that, but he deals with all the pruning and the lawns. His peacocks are his speciality. Father loves them so much.’ 

Hermione sighed to herself at this glimpse into the reality of being a Malfoy. It had been going a bit too well.

‘Nevermind. Come on. Let’s get some dinner and then we’ll try and see Dumbledore. I don’t want to wait any longer. I’d forgotten about Mundungus. He started pilfering Grimmauld Place at some point after Sirius died.'

Draco watched her face waver as she thought of Padfoot. She pulled it together.

'I think he said he didn't start until after Dumbledore died, but I wouldn’t trust a word that man said. It could have been sooner and I don’t want us to take any chances.’ 

Draco nodded his agreement.

It had been a long day, but they were starting to feel a bit more comfortable in each other’s skin, and the discussions they were having were flowing more naturally. 

They just needed to imitate each other for the foreseeable future. The Horcruxes were their main focus. Once Dumbledore was informed of the details, that would take some weight off them both. Hermione had to simply pretend to like Pansy if and when they spoke to each other. Draco had to simply pretend to like Ron whilst maintaining some visible irritation for it to be believable. They’d both been through much worse. 

They stood up as they glanced at each other and exchanged a tentative smile. Hermione still felt the strange sensation of looking down at herself as Draco peered up. 

‘We just need to focus, Draco. We’ve got this. Magic has confidence in us.’ 

Draco gave her a small smile in return. Harry would be manageable. He needed to have the occasional huff around him to stay in character, but from what he had gathered, the two of them had a rather easy friendship. 

The unwanted image of Ron pushed into the back of his mind as he pushed it back down. 

Harry and Draco had a complex relationship. They were opposite sides of the same coin. From birth, their paths had been fixed for them, but in this body, Harry would be decent with him. 

Draco found that he didn’t actually dislike Harry, the person. Harry would, bizarrely, be the easier of the two to be around. Hermione had laid the groundwork for him. He trusted Hermione enough to be decent to Blaise and Pansy. 

Neville, Ginny and Luna would be relatively simple to be Hermione with. Draco was a good enough actor to replicate Hermione’s behaviour around them. 

Ron was a different kettle of fish. Draco sighed. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Ron and Hermione’s relationship was, well, it was just odd for him to work out. He just didn’t see what Hermione saw in him. 

Ron was now the Keeper for the Quidditch team, but for some reason, he didn’t think Hermione cared a jot about that. Quidditch seemed to hold very little appeal to her. Although she had dated Viktor Krum, so maybe, on some level, she liked competitive men. 

Draco shook his head in a perplexed manner. Perhaps Ron was very lovely to her in private. That would at least make some sense. 

He told Hermione he’d see her later outside Dumbledore’s office as he left and made his way down to the Great Hall. He squinted in deep thought. What did she see in him? He supposed he’d find out later when they spent some time alone. Ron seemed like the type of young man to put a bit of a show on in public. He was most probably different when it was just them two. He hoped so anyway. 

After a brief dinner where they both kept with the same excuse of a bad headache, they both retreated upstairs. Hermione discreetly wrapped the invisibility cloak around her and followed herself up the stairs. It was still surreal to watch herself walk through the Hogwarts corridors. 

Dumbledore hadn’t been in the great hall, but he was spending less time there. They both remembered his long absences in their original sixth year. 

Draco was pleased. He had set the scene for his sick day. Professor McGonagall had been rather sympathetic to his laments and had already told him to stay in bed if he needed to. 

He had given her a reluctant, sorrowful look that he was sure would be on Hermione's face if she was deprived of an entire day of education.  

London thankfully beckoned to him. Draco needed to wrap himself around style for a while. It would give him the fortitude to carry on. 

Hermione glanced at him. He had barely looked in Ron's direction at dinner. She didn't blame him. She had seen Ron reach for the Black forest gateaux with great gusto. Neville had excused himself a few moments later, looking a little green. 

The corridor was deserted as they stood together outside the Griffin Door as Hermione tentatively knocked. 

‘We need to explain the lot to him,’ she said quietly, ‘What we do know. Our theories. He has a Pensieve. We can give him our memories. I suspect Voldemort used some sort of doppelganger or mimic to act like him in the original timeline in the Great Hall. He set it all up. He wanted to know exactly what we were going to do. He would have known by then we had discovered the Horcruxes. He knew exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t intervene. He replicated it all up until the point that Harry shouted Expelliarmus. The Death Eaters had been more than prepared. He had his people waiting in the wings for us. He would have done anything to prevent his death, even violating the rules of time travel. Add anything you think may be relevant.’ 

Draco gave her a short nod as they both watched with interest as the Griffin Door opened for them. 

It was with a mix of anticipation and nerves they both made their way upstairs. 

Chapter Text

Hermione didn’t realise how emotional it would be seeing the Headmaster alive again. Draco hadn’t realised just how much he would want the ground to open up and swallow him upon seeing him. 

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk as he looked with interest at the two students. That Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were both standing together and staring at him with the most peculiar expressions on their faces had certainly piqued his curiosity. 

‘So, what did I do to warrant such an unexpected visit?’ he asked in his kind voice.  

Hermione burst into tears as Draco went bright red with shame. 

To Albus, watching Draco Malfoy bawling his eyes out and Hermione Granger looking very much like she had been caught with her fingers in the till set all sorts of alarm bells going. 

‘It all went wrong, Headmaster,’ Hermione stuttered out. ‘Your plan. Harry came so close to beating him, but Riddle used a time turner and sabotaged the lot.’ 

Draco side-eyed her histrionics. Hermione was sobbing hysterically. 

'Pull yourself together,' he murmured. 

This had Hermione crying even louder. 

Not much shocked Albus, but this had him gawping. 

‘Mr Malfoy,’ he murmured. ‘Please, have a tissue.’ 

‘I’m not Draco,’ Hermione spluttered. ‘I’m Hermione. He’s me. We've both come back from the future, and the Vortex switched us. We've come back from The Hogwarts Battle. The 2nd of May 1998. It was a massacre. Tom won. Draco and I were on our way to Azkaban to be tortured and then killed.’ 

‘Oh my, bollocks,’ Albus said and then sunk back into his chair. 

You could have heard a pin drop in the Headmaster’s office. 

'Here,' Hermione wandered up to him. 'You can use Legilimency on me if you need to. Even our magic has changed. Even the Marauders map has me as Draco. Use it so you know we're not under a spell.' 

Draco watched with interest as Albus peered into grey eyes.

Within a moment, he stilled and then stepped back. 

'Merlin,' he whispered. 'Why, Miss Granger. It is you.' 

Hermione felt a wave of relief. 

‘My dear,’ Albus said in a faint tone.

He stared at Draco with an inquiring expression on his face. Draco stared back uncomfortably.

Hermione was sobbing now as she looked at him.

‘Your poor hand,’ she managed to strangle out as she moved around the table and gave him a bear hug.

If Albus was astonished by this, he didn’t say. Draco saw a flicker of intrigue in the Headmaster’s blue eyes. 

'Please, both of you, take a seat,' he said in a captivated tone. 

Hermione stepped back and then launched herself in a chair and leant forward onto the table, and peered at Albus. Draco tentatively took a seat and leaned back. This was very uncomfortable for him. The guilt he was feeling was tangible. 

Hermione began as Albus and Draco braced themselves for the verbal onslaught. 

‘He knows, Headmaster. He knows we know about his Horcruxes in the future,’ Hermione barked out in Draco’s voice. ‘He used a time-turner, but it wasn’t an ordinary one. It was very powerful. It could go back several months. He knew everything we were going to do. He polyjuiced Umbridge to act like him when he makes the changes to the original timeline. I think he created a mimic of some sort in the original timeline. He replaced his Horcruxes with replicas. We thought we got them all. Nagini, the Hufflepuff cup, the Diadem, the Locket. We know about Harry’s connection to him. Riddle attacks him with the Killing Curse in the Forbidden forest first, but Harry doesn't die. Riddle kills him in the great hall.’ 

Albus had paled an alarming amount at this news. 

‘He was crazy,’ Hermione continued after pausing for one breath and one breath only. ‘It was a massacre. He killed all the light side. He even killed Draco’s parents. Draco and I were going to be sent to Azkaban, but then both our wands went weird and then the time turner acted of its own accord and launched itself at us, we were thrown across the room, and we fell into this black hole, and it was nothing like normal time travel. It was something else entirely. We went into the Vortex, and our bodies began to merge and then we both passed out. We landed here in each other’s bodies yesterday morning. It’s impossible. No one should be able to travel back so far, but we did.’ 

Albus was looking between the two of them with his eyes swivelling. 

‘We can show you our memories,’ Draco murmured. ‘What Hermione is saying is the truth. We know everything. Voldemort finds out that Snape is working for you. We know you’ve been cursed. We know that you choose your own way to die. It worked for a time. Snape was let into the inner circle, and he protected Hogwarts as well as anyone could do under the circumstances.’ 

Albus opened his mouth and then closed it again. 

‘We haven’t said a word to anyone,’ Hermione said. ‘If anyone was to find out, there’s no telling what would happen to us. This is all highly illegal. We’d be sent to Azkaban or St Mungos. I can’t even tell Harry. If Tom sees inside his mind and suspects for even a moment what has happened…’ 

Albus was focusing on his breathing. 

‘This time travel isn’t orthodox,’ Hermione carried on. ‘Our other selves aren’t here. This is a brand new timeline. Draco and I think magic wants us to change what happens in the future. Tom interfered too much. He broke all the rules with everything.’ 

Draco nodded in earnest. ‘Voldemort said he could go back several months. We have time to change this before he gets hold of that time turner. Hermione suggested, if possible that we destroy the Horcruxes and then replace them with replicas as he did.’ 

Albus slowly nodded. 

‘Kreacher has one of them. The Slytherin locket. Regulus Black worked out what Riddle had done before us. It’s in Grimmauld Place. We have to get it before Mundungus starts pilfering,’ Hermione said with a sniff, ‘We successfully destroyed that one anyway. Harry had to use Parseltongue to open it and Ron destroyed it with the Sword of Gryffindor that Snape managed to get to us.’

Albus was gazing at Hermione with shock. 

‘We were so close,’ Hermione muttered. ‘Tom gets hold of the Elder wand. It had changed its allegiance to Harry. Riddle took it from your grave, but he found it would never work properly for him as long as Harry was alive. Harry was the Elder wand's Master by the time of the Battle.'

‘It’s a long story,’ Draco added. 

‘And a story you must tell,’ Albus said softly. 

Draco fidgeted as he looked up slowly to meet the Headmaster's eyes. 

‘I, er. You know what Voldemort, er, Tom, has ordered me to do this year,’ he stated. 

Albus’s eyes darted between Hermione and Draco. He gave them a tiny nod. 

Draco sunk deeper into his chair. ‘I couldn’t do it,’ he whispered. ‘I almost did. My parents, their lives....’ 

They both watched as Draco visibly cringed in front of them. 

‘I managed to disarm you in the Astronomy Tower, but…’ he trailed off. 

Albus nodded in understanding. ‘I see. The Elder wand transferred its allegiance to you. Later on, I assume that Harry disarmed you at some point?’ 

Draco gave a swift nod. 

‘I er,’ he glanced at Hermione who nodded at him reassuringly. ‘I managed to connect two vanishing cabinets. One from Borgin and Burkes, the other to one of the Rooms of Requirement. I let them in at the end of this school year.’ 

‘Except for you, no one else was badly hurt,’ Hermione added. ‘Harry had taken the Felix Felicis that night to obtain Slughorn’s memory. It minimised the damage.’ 

Albus sat back and perused them. His heart rate had slowly returned to normal. 

‘We need another plan, and quickly,’ Hermione said. ‘We think, the sooner Tom is gone, the sooner magic will return us to our proper bodies.’ 

Draco leant forward. ‘Headmaster, I speak for both of us when I say we will do whatever we can to resolve this. If Tom is still alive by the end of the summer term then we do need all of our parents hidden. The Ministry falls on the 1st of August.'  

Albus gazed at Hermione. Now he knew it was Draco was underneath his sharp eyes could see the very subtle differences in her facial expressions. 

‘I, yes. I can arrange that,’ Albus nodded as Draco and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

‘I must say. This is most unexpected,’ Dumbledore murmured. 

'You can say that again,' Draco said quietly. 

The Headmaster watched who looked to all the world the student known as Draco Malfoy, stand and move over to the pensieve.

‘These are my memories of the Great Hall. I’ll also put in the major moments from the Horcrux Hunt,’ she informed him. 

They watched her pull out the wispy white tendrils from her mind and add them to the liquid. 

‘I’ll add mine too,’ Draco said. He looked forlornly at the Headmaster. 

‘I, er,’ he stuttered as he struggled to meet Dumbledore’s eyes. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn't want any of that to happen,’ he whispered. 

Albus appraised this version of Hermione Granger in deep thought. 

‘I was wrong,’ Draco said quietly. ‘I wish I had known how wrong I was when I was younger.’ 

‘Better late than never, my boy,’ Dumbledore said gently to Draco. 

They sat quietly for a moment as Draco pulled himself together. 

‘How are you both coping with your role reversal?’ Albus asked with interest. 

He watched Draco blush.

‘I, er, we’re managing.’ 

Albus resisted a smirk. 

‘I suspect it shall be a learning experience for both of you,’ he added mildly as Hermione returned to the table with a determined look on her face. 

‘Headmaster, all this must be rectified as soon as possible. Not just for stopping Tom. Although, that, above all, takes priority, but for our own existence. The effects of the body swap on our lives cannot be underestimated. Just earlier today, I had a very physically angry response to thinking about one Ronald Weasley. I admit, at this part of the timeline in the past, we had numerous altercations that were not conducive to a positive relationship, and I suspect being back at this point has caused some bad memories to resurface, but we eventually pushed past that. In the future, we will be together. I intend to be the future Mrs Weasley.’ 

Draco sighed. ‘Granger, we discussed this. It's impossible for you and Ron to continue this bizarre mating ritual you two have found yourselves in right now. You just need to leave it alone and let things take their natural course.’ 

Hermione’s lips went very thin. ‘I fully intend to follow that agreement. However, urgency is key. We both need this resolved as quickly as possible.’

She turned to the Headmaster, who was watching this play out with a bewildered expression. 

Even knowing that these two were the unfortunate victims of an unintentional body swap, one couldn’t quite prepare oneself for hearing Draco Malfoy claim he was going to be a future Mrs Weasley. 

‘Headmaster, my future is on the line. Being in Draco’s body is more involved than just the obvious side effects. It is affecting my entire psyche. I can’t spend time with my friends. This will have a negative effect on me in due course. They must all remain ignorant for now of these new circumstances due to how sensitive all this is. Harry's connection to him means Draco and I have to pretend for now. If he sees in Harry's mind that Draco and I have come back from the future, then he will panic and cause us even more problems. We have to move in the shadows with these Horcruxes. Tom cannot know what we’re doing. Hundreds, thousands of lives are at stake. I saw them all killed in the future. That cannot be allowed to happen again.’

Albus was watching her with awe as he nodded his agreement. He could clearly see Hermione now, beneath Draco’s face. 

‘How extraordinary,’ he said as he peered at her through blue eyes.  

They both looked at him intently. 

‘Is this fixable? We need to bring all this forward. He can't be allowed to get that time turner again. We need Harry to finish Tom. Can you devise a plan that will work?’ Draco asked him nervously. 

Albus seemed to shake himself as he pondered them both. ‘Oh, yes. It’s fixable. I will need to see your memories and see exactly what Tom has done before we begin to tamper with the timeline. Anything too extreme and the variables will multiply. As it stands now, we have a good idea of what to expect. The fact you tracked down all his Horcruxes is wonderful news, Miss Granger. I knew you three had it in you.’ 

Hermione beamed at him. 

Draco glanced down at Dumbledore's cursed hand. 

Draco clenched his jaw and then leant forward. ‘In the future,’ he began in a dry voice and then cleared his throat. ‘Er, in the future, you die on the 30th of June. Next year.’ 

Hermione inhaled sharply as her head swung to look at the Headmaster. 

Albus gave them both a cautious look. 

‘We know you arranged it with Snape. Harry said he was always your man since the moment Tom started hunting down Lily. Because he loved her all his life,’ Hermione said quietly as she wiped a few tears away. 

Albus gave them both a mellow smile. ‘Ah, it seems the future seemed to unwrap all the secrets. So, I left this mortal plane for my next adventure at the end of June?’ 

Draco and Hermione couldn’t stop the mortified looks on their faces as this eerie fact seemed to hang in the air. 

‘Do not be sad, young ones,’ Albus said amiably. ‘My death is inevitable. The Curse is inside me right now. If my public demise is needed, so be it if it will enable Severus to fulfil his mission.’ 

Hermione shifted in her seat. ‘Headmaster, if possible, we’d like to avoid a repeat of those, er, particular circumstances if we could. It wasn’t er, well, it was awful, how you died.’ 

Albus nodded serenely. ‘Of course. Was it particularly dramatic?’ 

Draco gave a weary nod. ‘Yes. Snape cast the killing curse, and the force threw you from the Astronomy Tower. I can put my memory of it with the others if you’d like.’ 

Albus nodded. ‘Yes, Mr Malfoy. I would very much like to see it.’ 

They both thought this a little morbid, but it could be essential to their future plans. 

Draco spoke softly. ‘Snape’s face when he did it was filled with revulsion.’ 

Albus turned his gaze to him. 

‘If we can avoid that, then I think it would be better,’ Draco said. 

Albus ran his fingers through his long beard as he mused. ‘I shall be giving this much thought. This is a very delicate predicament. However, forces beyond Tom's control saw fit to send you back here, so I can cautiously advise hope in regards to Tom’s eventual defeat.’ 

They both brightened. 

Hermione saw something flash in Albus’s eyes. 

‘What is it?’ she asked. 

‘Things are going to change in this timeline, regardless of how much the three of us try to keep it on track,’ Albus said. His eyes found Draco’s. 

‘I assume some plans that you had orchestrated in the past have been abandoned already?’ he asked him. 

Draco thought of the necklace and the mead and gave him a stilted nod. 

‘The ramifications of this can have a butterfly effect,’ Albus told them. ‘You are quite correct to assume this is a brand new timeline. You have been absorbed into your younger, other selves. This is unprecedented. However, we must all be cautious. The fact you are inhabiting each other's bodies is unusual, even by magic’s standards. Hermione. Can you explain to me what you felt when you thought of Ron?’ 

Hermione lifted her eyebrows at this question. She hadn’t thought the Headmaster would be remotely interested in her love life. 

‘Well, I was thinking of our sixth year. Ugh. Just between us, Ron was a total git this year, but I felt a strange sort of anger towards him. True, I’ve been angry at him before, but this was different. I was only really remembering all the bad things. I mean, Ron and I, well, he has done some wonderful things for me over the years, but I couldn’t remember them when I was in that haze.’ 

Draco sat back in boredom. Ron and Hermione’s love life was so far down his list of priorities right now. He kept an ear open, though. 

‘It’s like, I forgot about the time that Ron went into the Forbidden forest, even though he’s terrified of spiders, to help Harry find answers about the Basilisk that had hurt me, and all the times he comforted me and stood up for me. When Harry went all angry in our fifth year, we supported each other. He was brilliant then. I was focusing on all his negative qualities.’ 

Albus stroked his beard in contemplation. 

‘Draco had to sit with Harry, and he thought it was comforting, didn’t you, Draco? You said how nice it was to sit with him.’ 

Draco nodded. ‘I felt very calm with Harry. Although, with Ron, I didn’t know what to feel. We actually haven't spoken directly to each other yet, though.’ 

‘I can only assume that my thoughts about Ron are linked to Draco’s automatic physical responses to Ron too. It had overridden my own physical response,’ Hermione informed him.  

‘Have you had much interaction with your peers since you’ve arrived?’ 

They both shook their heads. 

‘We’ve been with each other. Swapping information. Studying each other so we can blend in better,’ Draco told him. 

‘I sat with Blaise twice. I didn’t feel much, either way. He was calm. We just discussed Runes and then earlier tonight, the Patronus Charm.’ 

Albus pondered this. 

‘Blaise is neutral in the blood war,’ Draco said. 

Albus glanced at him. ‘I know,’ he murmured. 

‘I’ve not spoken to Pansy yet,’ Hermione said with a disgruntled look on her face. ‘I mean, Draco says she has a good side to her. I’ll believe that when I see it.’ 

Draco huffed. ‘She does have a good side.’ 

‘She’s a spoilt, privileged cow, Draco,’ Hermione said in a bland tone. 

‘Yes, I agree, but she still has a good side. Very few people are all bad, you know. She hated what was happening in the castle. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to torture little kids. No one in their right mind would.’ 

Albus paled at hearing of the ominous future in store for Hogwarts. 

Hermione pulled her lips tight. ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ she said in a crisp tone. 

‘It’s true,’ Draco said. 

‘I think you’re biased,’ Hermione told him. 

‘Of course, I’m biased,’ Draco said in a withering tone. ‘She’s my friend. I will see her good points. You two can’t stand each other. You will think she is evil incarnate. She can’t stand you either. She thinks you’re pretentious and conceited.’ 

Hermione tapped her fingers on the table as she looked at him coldly. 

‘She also thinks Harry is obnoxious and arrogant,’ Draco told her. 'Look, we've spent years being assholes to each other. We are going to think the worst of each other.'

Hermione scowled. ‘Well, Harry can’t stand her either.’ 

‘Exactly. Harry can't stand her because he doesn't actually know her as I do. It’s called perspective. Try and see things from a different angle. You may find it helpful.’ 

‘You’re lecturing me on perspective?’ Hermione was genuinely surprised. 

‘Yes,’ Draco said in a tired voice. ‘Of everyone you know, I actually think I’m the best person to see both sides of the argument. Very little in life is black and white, Hermione. There is a lot of grey. Look at us. We're actually talking to each other, and you know what I've found? I actually like talking to you. Most of the time, anyway. Between us all, there is a lot of good stuff.’ 

Hermione faltered. 

‘Look at you and Ron,’ Draco added. ‘Has it always been lovely between you? No. Has it always been terrible? No. Ron is like Pansy in a lot of ways. He’s got his good points as well as his bad. He must have for you to want to be with him. They’re just like us. None of us is perfect. None of us are wonderful people all the time. The closest any of us will ever get to being around a truly gentle, good person is Luna, and let us all face facts; she doesn’t truly belong on this earth. She’s too bloody nice. We all make mistakes. There must be things you regret. We’ve all got a dark side. We're human. True, I made a lot more mistakes than most of you, but the point remains. We’re not evil. I know what true evil is, and Pansy and I are not that.’

Hermione gazed at him for a moment. She had to concede he was probably right with that opinion. She wasn’t perfect. She could be overbearing. She could be dismissive of people. She had a one-track mind because of the war, which had contributed to these unfortunate attributes, but still. She'd quite liked talking to Draco as well. Mostly. She hadn't known him before. She didn't know Pansy. 

She gave him a small nod that he returned with a small smile. 

Albus watched this interaction with a curious look. 

‘So, have you taken your places in your opposing Houses?’ Albus asked them in the quiet. 

‘Er, I couldn’t stand being in the boy's dorms,’ Hermione added. ‘I hope it’s alright, but I’ve moved to the Room of Requirement.’ 

Albus gave a small smirk. ‘Was it Crabbe or Goyle who tipped you over the edge, Miss Granger?’ 

Hermione pursed her lips. ‘Crabbe,’ she said shortly. 

‘Mm. Yes. I can see why that would be intolerable for you. That is satisfactory to me if you want to stay in your current dwellings,’ Albus said shortly. He looked at Draco. 

‘Er, I’m staying in the Gryffindor dorms. I thought if Hermione suddenly went missing, with Lavender and Parvati being the two biggest gossips in Hogwarts, it would cause calamity,’ Draco informed him. ‘I stay out of their way, though. The Slytherin boys won't say anything about me not being there.’ 

‘I'm not particularly close to Lavender or Parvati. They do their thing. I do mine. I rarely see them. They shouldn’t get suspicious,’ Hermione added. 

‘Very good,’ Albus said in a distracted voice. ‘Mr Malfoy. Could you add your memories of any events you think are relevant to the Pensieve? I need to research this properly.’

Draco nodded as he went swiftly over to the Pensive. Hermione watched for a moment as he repeated her earlier actions. 

‘Why do you think I was getting so angry about Ron?’ Hermione asked the Headmaster. 

‘I find, in times of great strife, one can fixate on something unrelated as a coping mechanism,’ Albus informed her. 

Hermione gave him a soft smile. 

‘Of course, now you are Draco, perhaps you’re looking at yourself from an outsider's point of view and being more pragmatic. It may not be anything to do with you actually being in Draco’s body as such. Your reactions to Ron and your history together may simply just be your own reactions, not Draco’s. It could simply be the surge of testosterone in your body that caused the volatile reaction you had.’

Hermione didn’t like the answers to that question so she rapidly moved on. 

‘Do you have any idea how this body swap is related to time travel? I don’t understand why magic did this,’ Hermione said, ‘Why is it important Draco and I have to be each other?’ 

‘We’re all related to this,’ Albus said. ‘Each one of us has a part to play, but you know the prophecy. The final conflict will, and has always been destined to be, between Harry and Tom. That is the anchor we need to work with. We will need to do whatever is in our power to guide Harry to that moment. It is imperative this happens before Tom gets that time turner and can repeat his abuses of it. That is vital. Magic itself has given us this chance to rectify the damage. As for the body swap, well, I’m afraid that sometimes even magic can make a mistake.’ 

‘A mistake?’ Hermione asked in a dull voice. 

‘You were in the Vortex, you said. It is magic even I don’t understand.’ 

‘Do you think, if we defeat him, we’ll change back? Hermione asked him in a small voice. 

‘Perhaps,’ Dumbledore said. 

‘Perhaps isn’t what I’m looking for,’ Hermione said through gritted teeth. 

‘It is all I can offer. I cannot give you false hope. Magic does work in mysterious ways, however. If it could change you into each other, it can change you back. Why don’t you look at this as an academic issue for now? Try and be objective. You have a wonderful opportunity to see the world through another's eyes. Learn from this.’ 

Hermione peered at him and then glanced over to her other-self. Draco was easing another memory tendril into the pensieve. 

‘You are now Draco Malfoy to everyone outside of this room. You will be treated differently for a myriad of reasons.’ 

Hermione frowned at this prospect. 

‘Knowledge, Miss Granger. You have always wanted to expand your wisdom. You entered our world as an outsider. You were a muggleborn in a different world who did not know a single soul. You created a life here. You have friends. Now you exist as a pureblood wizard from two of the oldest magical families in our world. You are a Slytherin. You are a man. You're now your opposite in many ways. You can finally see if the grass truly is greener.’ 

Hermione ran her hand through her short blond hair. ‘Draco’s life is not easy right now.’ 

‘At home, perhaps. In this castle, at least for the foreseeable future, he is at the top of the tree. Why don’t you explore that? It may help you gain a new perspective of our world.’ 

They sat in the quiet for a moment as Draco looked to be finishing up. 

Hermione gazed at the Headmaster. She was already feeling more secure at being in his presence.

‘It’s so good to see you again. I wish it had been under better circumstances. I missed you. We all did.’ 

Albus gave her a small smile. ‘Don’t miss me. Don’t mourn for me. Use your energy to worry about the living. I promise you that we shall all meet again, in another place.’ 

Hermione regarded him with a warm smile. 

Draco returned with a sombre look. ‘It’s all there. I’m sure of it. If there is anything else you require, just ask.’ 

Albus appraised him with a smile. 

Hermione turned to Albus. ‘I have the Dark Mark now. I can let you know when it burns. If you need me to use it, just ask. I will do whatever it takes to finish Tom. You can be sure of that. We both will.’ 

Draco gave her a grim smile. 

Albus nodded gently to himself. ‘Draco. You are free of Tom. How will you be spending the foreseeable future without your mission hanging over your head?’ 

Draco blinked. ‘I’m not free of him. None of us is. I’m just as deep in this as I was. If it hasn’t escaped your notice I am now a muggleborn with all that entails. I’m not just any muggleborn either, but I’m the muggleborn. I’m Potter’s best friend. I’m already notorious. I may as well have a neon sign hanging above my head. There is no way I can lay low.’ 

Hermione beamed at that. ‘Thank you, Draco, for the gravitas you attached to being me.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Draco said dryly. 

He turned to an amused looking Dumbledore. ‘Hermione and I want to help in any way we can. We can start with the Horcruxes. We need an audio copy of Parseltongue from Harry to get that Locket open for a start. We can work on a plan to acquire that.’ 

Albus gave them both a gentle smile. ‘Kreacher has had it all along?’ 

Hermione nodded. ‘Regulus asked him to destroy it. He couldn’t. I think it has frustrated him a great deal. We need to get it before Mundungus does. Umbridge will get hold of it otherwise.’ 

Albus took this on board. ‘I shall be very amiable with the Elf. Once he knows it is to be destroyed and his Master's wishes finally honoured, he shall most probably be agreeable to handing it over.’ 

‘The Diadem is in one of the Rooms of Requirement,’ Hermione told him. 

Albus shook his head. ‘It was under our noses, all along,’ he whispered. 

‘The Hufflepuff cup is in the LeStrange vault at Gringotts,’ Draco said. ‘I don’t know if it’s possible, but maybe there may be a way for me, well, Hermione to get into it. Bellatrix is my Aunt.’ 

Albus shook his head. ‘I’m afraid only those named on the Gringotts contract can access the vault.’ 

Hermione peered at Albus. ‘We retrieved it in the old timeline, but we must have broken about a hundred laws. Er, Tom killed a lot of the Goblins when he discovered what had happened. Is there a way to replicate it and switch it around without anyone being any the wiser? Tom said he did something to them that only Harry could hear. That's what fooled Harry. We need Tom to believe his Horcruxes haven’t been touched.’ 

Albus smiled genially at Hermione. ‘My dear. You and I think very much alike. There may be a way to do that.’ 

Hermione gave him a warm smile in return. That was high praise indeed. Draco watched himself smile at Dumbledore in a way he was very sure he never had in the past. 

‘Let me explore your future memories first,’ Albus told them. ‘I shall need to plan this so that Tom remains blissfully ignorant of our schemes. He cannot be allowed a second chance as he managed to do to create your tragic futures. When I am ready, I shall contact you both.’ 

Draco and Hermione physically felt the weight lift from their shoulders at this announcement. 

Albus sat back and perused them. ‘For now, I want you two to blend into your new situations. I think, as bizarre as your circumstances are, you may both find some illuminating lessons to be had.’ 

‘I think we’ve both learned a great deal already, to be honest, Headmaster,’ Hermione said with a significant edge to her voice. To Draco’s voice. 

Dumbledore both gave them a rather, they thought, patronising look. 

‘Ah, to be young again. When I was your age I thought life had nothing left to teach me either. I have continuously been both shocked and surprised by the rich tapestry of life. Look at tonight. Yet again, I have been flummoxed by the twists of fate. You have both been given a golden opportunity to right what has gone so wrong.’ 

His blue eyes looked at Hermione. ‘Draco. You have earned a second chance. Use it wisely.’ 

Draco had always felt very uncomfortable under the Headmaster’s gaze until that moment. He felt a calmness trickle over him.

'It must be because of being in Hermione’s body,’ he thought. 

Albus turned to Hermione. 'You are one of the most courageous lionesses I have ever had the pleasure to be acquainted with. I know you will move heaven and earth to get this done.’ 

She felt the same calmness trickle over her as she beamed at the Headmaster. 

'Now, leave me to your memories. The sooner I start, the sooner I shall know how best to approach this. This remains between us three. No one else can suspect.'

Draco and Hermione left the Headmaster's office with a sturdier walk than they had entered. 

Albus turned to the pensieve. 

'Oh, Tom. Why must you always make things more difficult than they need to be?' he wondered aloud. 

He thought again of Draco Malfoy professing his desire to be Mrs Weasley. 

His lips curled up in mirth as he forced his mouth into a more dignified position. This knowledge that Draco and Hermione had given him may actually prove to improve the timeline. 

When Draco had mentioned children getting tortured at Hogwarts, it had sent a chill down his spine. Magic wanted Draco and Hermione to change things. 

He thought of two of the most arrogant, smart, occasionally infuriating students he had ever watched grow up at Hogwarts. 

If anyone could change the world, those two could. 

Chapter Text

Draco lay back in the salon chair and felt the welcome warm spray from the water as Hermione’s mop was prepared for battle. 

He felt the lovely little tingle as he smiled with sheer, blessed relief. It was the moment he had been waiting for. For two gruelling, maddening days, he had suffered this. 

‘You're a lifesaver, Ramone,’ Draco murmured. ‘Thank you for fitting me in. I’ve just returned from my gap year, and I dare not see anyone but the best to rectify this damage. You came highly recommended.’ 

Ramone was recommended personally. He was Draco’s hairdresser. 

‘Mon Cheri,’ the man said gently as he lathered up. ‘You’ve come to the right place. Mon Dieu. How you have suffered.’ 

‘Thank you for your warm words of sympathy,’ Draco said sincerely. ‘I truly have.’ 

Draco had discussed with Ramone his ideas. Hermione had very thick hair. They both agreed textured layers were best. Draco picked out a chic, professional cut from the collection and Ramone got to work. 

Draco watched in wonder as, little by little, the salon floor was covered so much it resembled a shag rug.  

One of the staff swept it all up and lugged the hair out to give Ramone room for the next stages of his mission. He began to make the finishing touches. It had been cut to her jawline. Already, Draco felt so much lighter. 

He peered at the mirror as Ramone shaped and styled. 

He could see Hermione’s face clearly now. He could see for himself how much more flattering this style was. It was much more refined. He was already starting to feel more like his old self. 

An assistant used a towel to wipe Ramone’s sweat from his brow as a fellow hairdresser passed him a bottle of water to hydrate with. 

‘Just a little more,’ Ramone whispered with intensity as Draco watched as he blow-dried and then sprayed. 

A few final touches were made as Draco exhaled in gratification. 

‘You are an artist, Ramone. An exceptional artist,’ Draco whispered in reverence. 

Ramone gave Draco a tremulous smile. ‘You look belle. Beautiful.’ 

Draco ran his fingers over his cheekbones and jaw as they both stared in wonder at the transformation. 

Ramone brought a mirror out and showed Draco the back as he appraised himself with a beaming smile. 

He looked very unlike himself. Well, unlike Hermione. 

'Who would have thought all this was hiding under that bush? ’ Draco thought. 

He peered at himself. Hermione’s eyes had been accentuated. They looked divine in her face and made quite the impact. Her jawline looked sharp and regal. 

Ramone took a step back as several hairdressers who had been observing patted him on the back for his fantastic achievement. 

‘Do not leave it so long next time,’ Ramone told him off sternly. 'Your hair is your crowning glory, sweetheart. It must always be loved. It must always be cherished.’ 

Draco beamed with happiness. ‘Never again, Ramone. I shall be making regular appointments,’ he said with sincerity.  

Hermione’s hair looked glossy and shiny. The cut was sublime.

Draco already felt so much better, and he hadn’t even started on his new wardrobe. 

He had an extendable bag with him. The enlarged space would be needed for his many new purchases. 

Draco paid the astronomical fee and then put his new hair products in his bag that Ramone had recommended for daily maintenance. He then left the salon with a spring in his step.

Hermione’s magic was actually very strong. He’d apparated in only two jumps to London earlier that day, and that was him being cautious. His escape from Hogwarts had been simple. 

The passage to Hogsmeade was free of the Hogwarts wards for now. That would change soon.  

Rufus Scrimgeour would be taking over from Cornelius Fudge soon. 

He knew from experience that the Ministry would tighten up the security at Hogwarts even further in a few months, and this option would be over. The tunnels would be discovered. Tom had been expecting it and told Draco he needed to find another way for his Death Eaters rather than using the underground passages. Tom had ordered the invasion of Hogwarts by the end of June. In the chaos, the Ministry would be the next to fall. Tom had timed his military movements with precision. Everything was slowly being set in the shadows for this auspicious attack on the Wizarding World. 

Draco put it to the back of his mind for now. He needed to focus on his image. It was integral to the war effort. The day was young. He had wads of cash in his money bag. He had London to explore. 

His brown eyes found Harrods as a thrill surged through him. 

The Mothership was calling him home. 

‘It's time to worship,’ he murmured.

He almost skipped inside the prestigious store in his excitement of doing his second favourite activity. It would be the first of many. 

‘Malfoy.’ 

‘Crabbe,’ Hermione fought very hard to keep the derision out of her voice. It came out as a sort of a hiss. 

Crabbe and Goyle had approached her after Transfiguration. 

‘Ain’t seen you around lately,’ Crabbe said.

‘I’ve not been around,’ Hermione said in that same nonchalant way Draco spoke in occasionally.

‘Any developments?’ Goyle asked. 

Hermione didn’t need to lie. ‘Plenty,’ she said in a bragging tone.  

Crabbe and Goyle’s eyes widened. 

‘You reckon you can do it?’ Crabbe whispered. 

Hermione plastered on the cold look Draco was infamous for. ‘Of course I can do it. The Dark Lord wouldn’t have given me these orders if he thought I was incompetent.’ 

This was far from the truth, but Hermione knew it was vital to act the part of an arrogant prick at this stage. Crabbe and Goyle were no doubt reporting back to Crabbe and Goyle Snr. She didn’t want any suspicions raised at this point in the timeline. 

Crabbe and Goyle both gave her a rather pleased look of satisfaction. 

‘Have you really figured out a way to get them past the wards for when the time is right?’ Goyle asked quietly as he glanced around. 

Hermione gave them both a sneer. ‘I figured that out weeks ago. I’m not an amateur.’ 

Crabbe was staring at her. 

‘How you gonna do it?’ Crabbe asked, his face showing more interest in this topic than Hermione had ever seen him ever show in anything before. 

She gave them that sort of scrunched-up look that Draco liked to give people, making him look rather thuggish. 

‘You’ll find out. I’ll tell you this, though. It works,’ she gloated. 

‘You sure, Malfoy?’ Crabbe asked. ‘You were a bit quiet last week. We thought you’d bricked it.’

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You calling me a coward, Crabbe?’ she snapped. 

He stepped back and lifted his hands up. 

‘That’s what I thought,’ Hermione said in a low tone. 

She gave them both Draco’s menacing look.

‘If you must know, I was thinking of the rest of the plan. The hard parts over, but the next step needs to be precise,’ she gave them a sardonic look. 

‘Got it,’ Goyle said as his eyes shifted. 

Hermione watched him turn quickly as he spotted something. 

‘Get lost, Potter,’ Crabbe snarled as Hermione flinched. 

She saw Harry and Ron out of the corner of her eyes, shuffling past them as Harry stared daggers at Crabbe. 

She turned then and walked away from Draco’s henchmen. Merlin, it wasn’t easy playing a Death Eater. She paused for a moment as she really considered what she had been feeling just then. Actually, being confrontational and full of it came a little too naturally to her.

She shook it off and made her way to her next class. 

She added the Draco swagger to emphasise the authenticity of her role play. It was certainly giving her a new perspective of the people in the castle now she was taller. Ron and Harry didn’t seem anywhere near as tall as they had done. She was only just a bit shorter than Ron now. 

Draco was missing in Potions. He was on his Hermione Improvement Mission. Hermione would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little intrigued. He had put her mind at rest a little bit. He had assured her it would be tasteful purchases and similar to her own wardrobe. She hoped for a conservative style. 

She wouldn’t be watching herself looking cheap and tacky at any rate. 

Harry glanced her way several times as she pretended to ignore him. She accidentally made eye contact with Ron who jeered back at her. She kept the cold look on her face that Draco had when these unfortunate incidents occurred and looked away. 

She finished up the potion when she was satisfied with her work and completed her notes for the lesson. She checked no one was watching and discreetly waved her wand in the motion Draco had shown her and whispered Forgio. The handwriting changed into Draco’s. 

She left it casually on the table as she cleared up. It was the subtle things that people subconsciously noticed. Slughorn had picked it up as his eyes roamed down the paper. 

‘Good work, Malfoy. Nice to see you maintaining your high standards.’ 

Hermione gave the Professor a small smile and a nod at the praise as she had seen Draco do many times. At least Draco wasn’t dimwitted. The cat would have been out of the bag immediately otherwise.

She saw Ron give her an arrogant sneer, but otherwise, he remained quiet. Pansy had sat away from her and was avoiding all eye contact. 

Blaise had finished up as he motioned to her to go for lunch. 

Hermione gave him a casual nod as she followed him out. Blaise was fairly quiet. Draco had told her they kept the friendship going through not getting too involved with each other. He had told her to keep it light. She was more than happy to follow his advice. 

‘No family talk,’ Draco had insisted on that. ‘Do not make one reference to his mother in any way, shape or form. I mean it, Granger. Just don’t even think about going there. It will not be pretty.’ 

Hermione had heard many whispers about the elusive, rich and many married and widowed, Mrs Zabini, whose husbands always seemed to meet a sticky end. She was in no rush to prod a sleeping dog either. 

Blaise was polite with her if a little distant. He was perfect for right now. 

They passed Ginny Weasley in the corridor who gave her such a look of spite that Hermione physically recoiled for a split second. 

‘Merlin, I felt that,’ she thought in consternation. 

She saw Blaise glance backwards at the retreating figure of Ginny with a smile on his face. 

‘Fiery, isn’t she?’ Blaise murmured. ‘I like that in a woman.’

Hermione made a non-committal noise. She did not want to discuss women with Blaise.  

‘She really, really hates you, doesn’t she?’ Blaise said in an observational tone. 

‘Yes,’ Hermione murmured. There was no escaping that fact. Ginny Weasley did truly hate Draco Malfoy. That his father had slipped a possessed diary to her when she was eleven was the tip of the iceberg. 

‘Shame,’ Blaise said then left it at that. 

Hermione matched him strut for strut as they made their way to the Great Hall. She had copied Draco’s walk. She made sure her arms swung. She walked as if she owned the place. 

Quite a few people turned away from her. Others looked her way. 

Daphne Greengrass appeared out of nowhere and stood in front of Hermione. 

‘Draco, darling,’ Daphne murmured as she ran her fingers down Draco’s Slytherin tie. Hermione gave her the confident smirk she had seen Draco do to women who were actually being nice to him. 

‘Daphne,’ Hermione said in a smooth voice. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ 

Daphne waved a gold embossed card in front of her and then put it in Draco's robes. Tracey leaned against the wall in a rather demure fashion as she inspected her nails. 

‘It’s an Invitation to the Greengrass Christmas Ball. My parents hope you and your mother will be in attendance this year.’ 

Hermione noticed the polite exclusion of Lucius due to the sensitive issue of Lucius currently being in Azkaban. Hermione knew for certain that Lucius would be one of the many escapees of yet another prison break in the next few months. Draco had told her his father had spent his time hiding at Malfoy Manor during that time. Daphne didn’t even mention it. How tactful. 

‘Of course, Daphne,’ Hermione said with the trademark Draco charming smile. ‘I’ll let mother know. I think I speak for both of us when I say we’ll be honoured to attend.’ 

Draco had already briefed her on the Ball. He insisted she was to attend. It wouldn’t be acceptable in their world to decline. 

‘Make sure you look your handsomest,’ Daphne murmured.

She turned to Blaise and handed another invitation to him. 

‘I want you both dressed to kill. I’ll save plenty of dances for you both if you impress me.’ 

Hermione swore at that moment she heard Blaise purr. 

‘Naturally, Daphne. I'll make sure I'm suitably attired. I'll want to dance the waltz with you,’ Blaise said with an alluring tone. 

Daphne lifted her eyebrows playfully at him and gave him a sultry smile. 

‘I'll look forward to it, Zabini. Later, guys.’ 

They watched her saunter off with Tracey. 

‘She’s such a tease,’ Blaise said with reverence. ‘One day, Draco, one day, she’ll be mine. Daphne Zabini has such a gorgeous ring to it, don’t you think?’ 

‘Really? You’re that sure?’ Hermione asked with interest. 

‘Mm, she’s got it all. Brains, looks, and a sense of humour. I’d make her my queen. Do you know how fucking rare it is to find the hat trick?’ 

Hermione bristled with irritation. 'There are plenty of women that tick all those boxes.’ 

Blaise shrugged. ‘Daphne ticks all those boxes thoroughly and much, much more. Anyway, since when were you so complimentary about the opposite sex? We all know how hard you are to please. You always find something wrong with them, in the end.’

Hermione thought fast. ‘I was simply trying to encourage you, Blaise. I myself have very high standards. The woman I marry will be the future Mrs Malfoy. My tastes are simple. I only require the best.’ 

Blaise rolled his eyes. ‘I know. I’ve heard you say that many times.’ 

Hermione felt relief she had handled that so easily and a little annoyed with herself that she'd slipped with her portrayal of Draco.  

‘Come on. Let’s eat,’ Hermione murmured. Her tummy was growling again. 

They left the corridor as Hermione sighed to herself. She knew this mission wasn’t going to be easy, but objectifying the female species was asking a bit too much. She pursed her lips. Ginny and she often spoke of Harry and Ron. In confidence, of course. It had always been a little weird talking to Ginny about Ron.

If Ginny hadn’t been Ron’s sister, would they have talked about Ron in a similar way to how Blaise had spoken about Ginny and Daphne? She genuinely didn’t know. Hermione filed that away for future analysis. 

Meanwhile, Draco was staring at his reflection in the mirror belonging to an exclusive fashion chain in London as his eyes roamed his new appearance. 

He was wearing a gorgeous, fitted grey Dolce and Gabbana suit. The silver necklace he had just bought was sparkling in the light as he turned around and looked at himself. 

He was shaking his head in wonder. 

'All those years of that nest on her head, wearing oversized robes, those lumpy cardigans, ugh. As for those distasteful slacks that even the elderly would only wear to tend to their allotments, and this was what she was capable of looking like. Incredible.’ 

‘I look amazing,’ he said out loud. 

He turned this way and that.

‘Hermione looks amazing,’ he corrected himself. Something about Hermione had him captivated. He perused himself in the mirror. 

He could only assume he was so fascinated by what he was seeing because of their bizarre circumstances. He was her. He had a personal interest in making her look good. 

'What a difference a few thousand muggle pounds make.'

He stared at himself. Hermione dressed like this made her look extremely distinguished. She struck a striking figure. She was actually very attractive. If he didn’t know her and he was Draco again, he would ask her out. He acknowledged that perplexing thought to himself and then froze.

Draco immediately stopped that particular line of thought dead. He had enough problems without adding to them. 

Hermione and him being together was laughable, anyway. If they ever rectified their issues and changed back, they would part. Certainly, they would always be sort of friends after going through this together. He liked her more than he had ever expected to, and sharing something like this with each other was creating a unique bond between them, but he knew they could be no more than that. 

As much as he had moved on from the pureblood ideology, Hermione was a muggleborn. His mother would hit the roof if he even brought her home for dinner. Granger was also besotted with Ron Weasley. She clearly had very bad taste in men.

Draco was a catch. He knew it. They all knew it. Of course, he may have a few teeny, tiny issues at the moment, but they would be rectified. He had hope. Any witch in their world would be happy to be the future Mrs Malfoy. The position came with multiple perks. Well, maybe not all of the witches would be interested. He had burnt a few bridges at Hogwarts already. 

Draco thought very highly of himself. He was clearly too good for Hermione, and he didn’t mean that in a snobby way. He was cultured, wealthy and smart.

Hermione clearly liked her men low class. Ron was a borderline neanderthal. Draco mused. Was it because Hermione wanted a man she could patronise for a lifetime? He nodded to himself in consideration of this plausible reason. Possibly. Perhaps she wanted to feel superior to her future husband. 

He glanced at her old clothes on the side. No, she clearly wasn’t bothered about appearing superior if that was her taste in clothes. Ugh. Granger didn’t make any sense.

Anyway, it was all a moot point. After everything, he was still amazed she could be as polite as she was being with him. She’d never be interested in him. There was too much water under the bridge. He had to admit to himself that their encounters up until recently had been fraught with chaos. His lips twitched.  She'd always stood her ground with him. She didn't care he was a Malfoy. She had disliked him because he was a Draco. 

He stepped back for a good look. Hermione owed him big. She looked gorgeous. Draco had known, that with the right clothing and accessories, he would improve her appearance. 

Draco thought back to the Yule Ball and how she had lit up the room. He had been a passive spectator then, but even he had noticed her. 

He’d never thought about her in that way. His upbringing had blinded him. Their ongoing strife between each other had negated her. 

He had seen every negative emotion possible flung at him by her. He had flung every negative emotion back. 

There had been pure unadulterated rage, anger, spite, mocking, gloating and at one point, graphic violence. That was simply what had been coming from Granger. 

Draco had to admit he had been even worse to her in retaliation. He’d done the worse thing he could do to her. To anyone. He had tried to make her feel worthless. He had tried to dehumanise her. He had called her a mudblood. That word echoed in his mind. He had called her lesser. Dirty. Unclean. 

He was her now. He could feel her magic inside of him. It felt so much like his. It worked just like his magic did. It was just as strong as his magic. All this time, and she had always been just the same as him. It was the magic that mattered. It had always only ever been about the magic, and he had been so stupid to believe otherwise. All the ignorant blood theories had turned out to be falsehoods. It had done so much damage to their world. 

Draco winced in that changing room at his younger self’s actions. That Hermione was even speaking to him after all that was a miracle. Of course, it’s not like she had much choice in the matter, but then, neither did he. 

Still, they were talking to each other. They were actually listening to each other. 

He gazed again in the mirror into brown eyes that looked back at him with guilt in them. 

He hadn’t paused long enough to truly look at her when he was younger. When he had started to see the world for what it was, that had changed. 

By the end of their sixth year, their future selves had been so tired. So tired of all of it. So tired of Voldemort and the threats in the shadows. They had both wanted an end to it all. He had seen that reflected back at him in her eyes. 

Oh, Salazar, how could people so young be so exhausted? 

Draco hung his head in shame. He had been fighting his true nature for years. He had tried to emulate his father for so long. He had thought that’s who he was destined to be. He thought of his wand and the Unicorn hair inside it. He knew now that it was the hardest wand to turn to the Dark Arts. There had been a reason that his wand had chosen him. Even Voldemort could only push him so far. 

He gave a rueful smile at that memory when Hermione had discovered what his wand was made of. Hermione had been so pleased to hear that. It was the first time she had actually really smiled at him with happiness. It had been a proper smile too. Friends. Yes. That’s what they would be. He considered himself fortunate that he could at least say that after everything. 

He straightened up and admired himself, Granger’s self, one more time. 

He had so much more to buy, and the clock was ticking. He hadn’t even got to the Gucci and Dior stores yet. 

‘OY, Malfoy,’ came Harry’s voice. 

Hermione sighed as she turned around in the quiet corridor. They had just left Charms, and she had to get to Runes. She was by herself. 

Harry was standing in front of her. He was also by himself. He was a little shorter than her now. She observed him silently. It was a little strange to see him from this angle. 

Harry looked ready to strangle her. Well, Draco. 

‘I’m in a hurry, Potter,’ she murmured in that bored, dulcet tone that Draco used on occasion with Harry to suggest he couldn’t think of anything worse than talking to him. 

Harry’s emerald eyes were blazing as Hermione tapped a foot in irritation. 

‘I’m waiting,’ Hermione said in that condescending tone that Draco frequently used. 

‘What’s the next step?’ Harry said in a seething tone. 

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Hermione said dryly. 

Harry glared at her. ‘Yes, you do. I heard what you were talking about to them two. Don’t play stupid. When I find out I’ll…’ he trailed off. 

‘You’ll what?’ Hermione said in that same bland tone. 

‘I’m watching you. I know you’re up to something,’ he said as he glanced around.

The corridor was empty. 

Hermione gave a dismissive shrug. She needed to keep in character. Tom could be watching them right now.

‘You really shouldn’t go around accusing people of being up to something without proof. It’s not very nice, is it? You don’t want to let all your fans down, Harry, the chosen One, Pottah,’ she said with a sneer as she spun around and stormed off. 

Harry stared after Draco Malfoy with his blood thundering through his ears. 

Hermione’s own heart rate was thudding. Merlin, she hated this. Harry had to believe she was Draco, though. At this point in the timeline, Draco had been an obnoxious bastard who never wasted an opportunity to wind Harry up. 

He couldn’t suspect anything different from that for now. Albus was working on a plan. The longer Harry believed nothing had changed, the better. Hermione didn’t have much faith in their plan of telling Harry that she and Draco had been secret friends and all this was for show. They wanted that to be the last resort and as late in the timeline as possible. If Tom found that out by getting in Harry’s head too early, then Draco’s parents would be in even more danger. They would all be in great danger. Tom was using Draco to get his followers into Hogwarts. At this point, he had no reason to suspect Draco's doubts. 

Tom had played with them all in the original timeline. The Malfoy's had been hanging by a thread even then. Draco changing sides wasn’t shocking to Tom in the original timeline. He had intended Draco to suffer in Azkaban for it. It was the time travel that was crucial. They couldn’t tell Harry about the swap and their future knowledge without telling him of the time travel. 

Magic had taken over for a damn good reason and Harry wouldn’t buy, the body swap just happened. 

If Tom found out Draco and Hermione had gone back in time and Draco was working with the light, then Draco’s parents would be killed immediately. That was a certainty. Tom would go mad. There was no telling what he would do in his rage. Albus needed time to get them to safety. Her own parents too. 

She liked the idea of using a memory charm on Harry even less. She’d been incredibly conflicted with what she had done to her parents in the original timeline. She needed to keep them safe, but making them forget her had been a very high price to pay. If Albus could hide them with their memories intact, that would be better. 

Hermione hoped that Albus got his skates on quickly. They had to simply steer Harry to Tom when the time was right and then, hopefully, the prophecy would be fulfilled and Tom would be gone, and she and Draco would be themselves again. 

Harry would understand why she was doing this. 

It didn't mean she had to like it. 

Dumbledore sat back in his chair as he pondered all he had seen. The locket had been removed from the cave he had intended to investigate by Regulus. He had seen how weakened he had been from the retrieval of the fake one in the original timeline from Draco's memory of the Astronomy Tower.

Draco had looked wretched. Albus had actually been pleased to see that inner conflict in the young man. After everything he had been raised to believe, something deep inside Draco had rebelled against it all. 

The Horcrux issue was by far the easiest mission to accomplish knowing what he did now know. Retrieving and replacing those particular Horcruxes wouldn't take him long. 

He grimaced. Setting Harry up to face his nemesis was what was causing him the quandary. The Elder wand had been vital in the original timeline. As it stood at the moment, Harry and Tom's own wands couldn't attack each other. Priori Incantatem was the result.

He couldn't send Harry into battle with just that to use. The massacre in the Great Hall had shocked him to his core. Albus refused to let Tom succeed. If Harry failed, the Wizarding World would be ruined if the age of Voldemort was ever to become a reality. 

There was also Nagini and the piece of Tom's soul in Harry's mind to consider. 

Dumbledore gazed into the fireplace as his mind went through a maze of variables.  

His mind explored what he knew of the Vortex. 

It would be a long time before he went to bed. 

Chapter Text

With the immediate pressure taken off them by Dumbledore, Hermione was finally able actually to breathe and take a proper look at her situation. 

Now the initial shock was slowly wearing off, Hermione was faced with the enormity of what magic had done for them. Sure, the situation could be better, but it certainly beat the alternative. Her horrendous fate in Azkaban had been much too close for comfort. 

She was sat at dinner and glanced across the room to Harry and Ron. She felt so bereft. Ron had said something the others were laughing at. Even Harry was grinning. 

She looked back down and focused on her meal. She was looking forward to going to the Room of Requirement and her imminent escape from it all. Her own bedroom. A place where she could actually relax and not think about her facial expressions or her body language. She’d had to think fast several times today. 

Draco was going to sneak out later and she’d see her new haircut. 

She carried on eating as she wondered just how much of her hair had been savaged. She glanced across to the Gryffindors again and saw Lavender checking Ron out. Hermione watched her turn to Parvati and whisper something in her ear that had Paravti ogling her friend. Hermione lowered her eyes again. She’d had to endure that nauseous sight again. It was stomach curdling the first time. 

She focused on Voldemort. It was less depressing. She wondered what plan the Headmaster was concocting in his mind. If it wasn’t for the time turner, Harry would have defeated the Dark Lord. Dumbledore had set it all up for Harry. 

She hoped he had one last trick up his sleeve. 

Rather than burn her old clothes, Draco had miniaturised Hermione’s old clothes as a compromise and had hung up the splendid new items. He was pleased and very proud of the extensive collection. There was a range of colours now and attire suitable for any occasion. 

He took a long moment to absorb the joy of having a complete and consummate wardrobe again. 

He felt a small sense of order return to his life. 

The shelves were neatly sorted and stacked with the essentials. 

Bracelets were separated from the rings. Hermione finally had a jewellery collection to brag about. Shirts, tops and suits were hanging neatly. He had drawn the line at dresses and skirts. Hermione rarely wore them anyway. 

Accessories were delicately placed. There was a few dashes of colour in there. Silk scarves. Expensive watches. 

His fingers stroked the luxurious fabrics as he felt his entire being soothed by the presence of money. 

Trench coat, leather coat, blazer. He checked all his purchases off, one by one. His fingers stroked the fine stitching on these garments as they then caressed the quality fabrics. He’d bought Hermione some items too. He knew his sizes exactly. 

He’d take them to her later. 

He lay on the bed and allowed himself some time to wallow in the indulgent presence of class and quality. It was purer than air. His eyes looked at the opulence as he felt himself become more centred and focused. 

With a smile, he lay the cashmere top over him and wrapped his arms around it and breathed in deeply. It was so blissful. 

His fingers touched the newly shaped and styled hair as he bit his lip as his face broke out into a wide smile. He was finally back in the land of the living. 

In a stunning turnaround, he actually had Hermione and Dumbledore on his side. His parents were still alive. After all the chaotic months he had wallowed in he finally had the chance to make things right for his world. He may have to do this in Hermione's body, but still. As time had evolved he had to admit to himself that this mission felt right in a way that Voldemort's mission never had. 

He was an ambitious Slytherin to the bone. He had finally found a cause he could put his whole self into. 

He also had a haircut he could show off. It wasn't quite his platinum blond cut, but it was sophisticated and head-turning. It was enough. 

He was ready to fight a war. 

It was not much later that Draco made his way to the Room of Requirement with a bag full of garments. He gave the secret knock and then a small door appeared. He watched himself open it as he saw himself gawp. 

Not one word could manifest itself from Hermione's lips. 

‘So, what do you think?’ Draco asked cautiously as he walked into the room as grey eyes were flitting this way and that over him. 

He’d dressed in a blue Dior suit and had put his Gryffindor robes over them. He was going to ease into the new wardrobe slowly. He wanted to introduce the other students gradually to Hermione's new look. He had desperately needed to feel the comfort of privilege again. 

‘I don’t look like me,’ came the faint response. 

‘Ramone cut it. He did a fantastic job. Your hair is so thick. He put in layers. You should feel it, Hermione. Your hair feels marvellous.’ 

She gingerly put a finger to her locks as a strange look passed her face. 

‘I think you look wonderful,’ Draco told her honestly. ‘Your eyes especially. It really accentuates them in such a graceful way.’ 

Hermione looked at herself. The style was nothing she would have ever chosen. It looked like something from a fashion magazine, artistically framing her face. 

Her eyes roamed over herself. Draco looked back nervously. 

‘I’d never have chosen something like this,’ Hermione murmured to herself. 

‘Well, you should. Your facial structure is to die for. This cut really shows off your jaw. I know you're not one for fuss, but really, Hermione. When you're back in this body, I highly recommend you keep your hair this length. Keep it off your face. I actually had some bitchy looks from random women in London. They were so jealous. One of them called me a slut. That is the highest of praise, indeed. Blatant jealousy from strangers is the peak of knowing you look good.’ 

Hermione had to ruefully admit to herself that she looked better with the shorter hair. 

'I suppose I look tidier,' she said quietly as she assessed herself.

Draco nodded earnestly.

‘Quite a few men looked more than twice at you as well.’ 

Hermione didn't know what to say to that.

'I'll tell the others I perfected the hair-cutting spell. Personally, I prefer the real thing. Ramone is a genius with hair. Both mother and father are his regulars as well. Only the best will do.'

Hermione continued to gaze at herself. Her eyes looked over the tailored suit. 

'I like what you're wearing,' she told him.

'See, I told you not to panic. It's an update. I chose items that had a Granger vibe.' 

Hermione felt comforted by that. 

‘Here,’ Draco passed her the bag. ‘I bought you some sturdy items, too. They will fit you.’ 

Hermione reached into the bag and pulled out a black, thick leather jacket and some thick trousers. A tough pair of leather boots completed the immediate ensemble. 

‘I brought you more clothes. It’s all in there, further down in the bag. Dark colours for discretion and night Missions. It’s Armani. I spared no expense. They will be resilient.’ 

Hermione gazed at him. Draco certainly seemed more buoyant. 

‘Did you enjoy London?’ she asked. 

‘Oh, very much. I feel much more settled now.’

Hermione’s fingers touched the dark blue suit. 

Draco gave her a smile.

‘It was worth every penny.' 

Hermione could see that. He seemed much cheered. 

‘How was your day?’ Draco asked.

Hermione still looked shell-shocked. 

‘So, so,’ she told him.

She filled him in on the invitation to the ball and her altercation with Harry.

Draco had the decency to look sympathetic. 

‘If we can make up some polyjuice potion, we can switch over one day. You can spend a bit of time with him.’ 

‘Thanks. I will, but it’s not the same. I miss him so much. He needs me right now, too. He has so much on his mind.’ 

Draco patted her gently on the shoulder. She gave him a light smile in return. 

‘Don’t blurt anything out to him,’ Draco warned. ‘I'll be you. As long as he believes you're still there, he'll be fine. We don’t know how this connection works with Tom. We don’t know if he can read Harry’s mind or see us in return. Whether he can flit in or out at will. You said Harry sometimes feels him and sees what he sees. He has nightmares, and his scar hurts. Occlumency isn’t going to be of much use against that battering from within. That could be when Tom is there. We know he saw you in the tent. He knew about Ron. He could have seen the Slytherin locket. It seems this link he has with Harry is sporadic, but the connection could be growing. I think that’s why he resorted to time travel. He must have known Harry knew about his Horcruxes if he saw the locket in the tent. He watched, waited and then sabotaged.’ 

Hermione stared at him as she had to admit to herself it was a possibility. For all the bad news, at least Draco was calling Voldemort Tom more often now. 

‘All we can do right now is wait and see what the Headmaster thinks. He’ll point us in the right direction. He did before.'  

Draco gave her a more confident smile.

‘I’m ready.’ 

Hermione gave him a brave smile in return. 

The next evening, a Phoenix Patronus found both of them in Hermione’s pseudo bedroom. 

They'd both had an odd day. Draco had kept quiet. Hermione had kept equally quiet, both citing a lingering headache. 

Draco had been receiving a lot of glances due to his new haircut. Harry had been surprised by the drastic change but had complimented him. Lavender and Parvati had also been unusually silent. Neither of them had commented on Hermione’s hair transformation. Ginny had been enthusiastic, though. She had been sitting with her new boyfriend, Dean Thomas, who had hailed the new cut a triumph.

Neville had also been very admiring. Draco was starting to warm to Longbottom.  At least some of the Gryffindors appreciated style.

Seamus had winked at him, which Draco had been a little unsettled by. 

Ron had given who he thought was Hermione a scornful look.

'What?' Draco had asked him sharply. 

Ron had a slight scoff in his voice.

'I don't like it. You look like some snobby Slytherin. It doesn't suit you. Change it back to normal. It makes me feel ugh.' 

Draco had glanced at Harry, who, true to form, had simply looked away in obvious discomfort, clearly awaiting the inevitable fireworks. 

Draco stared at Ron for a long moment. Ron had a confrontational look on his face as he glared at him. At least, who he thought was Hermione.  

Draco nodded to himself at this and then simply walked away.  He was starting to get a very clear picture indeed of who Ron was. 

Draco and Hermione were both wondering what Dumbledore had in mind as they both made the familiar way up to the office. 

Hermione had the invisibility cloak over her as Draco kept his expression relaxed. 

‘Draco, whatever he advises, we listen to him properly. I know I thought a few things he did was random, but it all meant something in the end. He was right the first time.’ 

Draco gave the invisible space beside him a tiny nod. He had every intention of listening to the Headmaster. As smart as they both were, they were way out of their depth. Dumbledore may have seen things they didn’t. 

Albus greeted them both with a smile. His blue eyes looked at them both with warmth, and Draco thought, some slight amusement at their current predicament. 

They took a seat as Fawkes, the Phoenix, settled down on his perch. 

Now they knew Albus knew they relaxed into their own postures. Hermione sat with her knees together, and her hands clasped tightly. Draco leant back with one leg thrown over the other. 

‘So,’ Hermione asked. ‘Any ideas?’ 

‘Oh, yes,’ Albus replied. ‘Very many. However, most of them had the potential to backfire. I do have some good news for you both.’ 

Albus reached into a drawer and put the Slytherin locket on the table. It was open. 

Hermione gasped. She knew Albus was no slouch, but this was unprecedented. 

‘You destroyed it already,’ Hermione whispered. ‘How did you get it open?’ 

‘Ron Weasley had a rather ingenious idea in your memories,’ Albus said with a wry smile. ‘I imitated Ron imitating Harry. Very simple, very effective.’ 

‘He’s smarter than he looks,’ Hermione said in a distracted tone and then slammed her hand over her mouth. ‘I mean, er, than he gives the impression of.’ 

Draco smirked. 

‘It was relatively simple to imitate the hiss,’ Albus said modestly. 

‘That saves us a job,’ Draco said with relief. 

‘Indeed,’ Albus said. ‘The House Elf Kreacher was most perplexed, but I promised him I would return this heirloom to him. I shall also be having a quiet word with one Mundungus Fletcher. Kreacher will want to keep some of the Black possessions. His demeanour has much improved, knowing Regulus Black's final wish will be honoured. A copy of the locket has been replaced in the cave. I shall return this to the Elf. It seems to bring him comfort.’ 

Draco and Hermione gazed at the now non-descript locket. 

‘We think that’s how Tom knew about the Horcruxes,’ Hermione said. ‘The connection that Harry has with Tom isn’t stable, but we think Tom must have seen the locket somehow. He’d seen Ron and me through Harry’s eyes. He made that clear to us in the great hall.’ 

Dumbledore nodded. ‘Yes. I believe that is correct. He acquired the time turner once he knew you had discovered his secret. He must have replaced his body with a mimic in the original timeline. He predicted exactly all the Light side would do. Crabbe was missing in the incident in the Room of Requirement. He must have died in the fire in the original timeline. Goyle and Crabbe have been inseparable since they arrived here. It was most unusual for them to be separated, especially at a time like that.’ 

Draco gave a stilted nod. 

‘This connection,’ Hermione said. ‘Tom’s the only one who can sever it, isn’t he?’ 

Albus gave her a sorrowful look. 

‘I miss Harry so much,’ Hermione said in a strangled voice. ‘He’s a part of me. He’s like my twin.’

Draco felt a little surge of an unusual emotion that he couldn’t quite place at that simple sentence. 

Albus exhaled. ‘He cannot know until the connection is broken. We cannot know what else Tom sees through Harry.’ 

Hermione sunk back into her chair as Albus gazed at her. 

Albus leant forward. ‘My plan originally was almost foolproof except for that one flaw. If it hadn’t been for the strength of that connection, it would have succeeded. I had underestimated just how much Tom could see through Harry. Although, Harry and yourselves would not have found his Horcruxes without this. The connection has already served its purpose in the future. It has put us one step ahead in this new timeline. This is very good news for us. I had expected my year to be one of investigation. Now, it has freed up my time immensely. We will be able to lure Tom into a false sense of security.’ 

‘But?’ Hermione asked. 

‘You both being back here, even if you had been in your own bodies, can affect the future in ways that are unpredictable,’ Albus admitted, ‘I need you both to stay in character as much as you can realistically muster. Hermione. I need you to be brash and arrogant, at least to the outside world. Harry must believe you are Draco. Draco. Harry must believe you are Hermione. You are to mimic her the best way you know how. Do not breathe a word of this to anyone.’ 

The two stricken faces spoke volumes. 

'Er, Harry has the Marauders Map,' Hermione said. 'If he spots Draco and me together, he will ask questions. As a last resort, we thought of saying Draco and I have been secret friends for years. That Draco has been acting a part to protect his parents. If Tom did find out that, I don't think he would act until the Battle. He was just stringing them along. Tom always intended to destroy the Malfoys when he got Harry. There's a good chance he won't regard it as important.'

Draco sighed. 'His only use for me at this stage is opening up the Vanishing Cabinets. I'm of no real consequence to him except for that. I'm just a way for him to punish my father for failing to acquire the prophecy. I hope so, anyway.' 

Draco was watching Albus, who looked to be in deep thought. 

'We can say it's maybe more if we have to. If he doesn't believe that, then Draco suggested using a memory charm,' Hermione told him. 'I'd prefer not to, but we don't quite know how to explain it if he sees us together on the map.'  

Albus scrunched his face up in thought.

'I appreciate you are both under a lot of pressure, but, with all due respect, Harry is by nature a very distrustful young man. If that were not the case, that plan could have worked. No, there is more chance of snowballs flying into Hell than Harry believing that explanation. Memory charms would set up a siren for Tom. He is connected to Harry's mind. Tom could potentially feel that charm being performed. If Tom sees either of you performing that charm, he will investigate.'  

Both Draco and Hermione looked a little disgruntled that their plan hadn't been green-lighted. Although, that's why they were here. They needed Albus's advice. Both of them were still in a form of shock, and neither of them was firing on all cylinders. 

Albus looked upwards for inspiration.

'Mr Malfoy. You and Miss Granger have fought like cat and dog for years. I understand circumstances in the future have changed you, but at this point, the body swap and time travel will be more believable to Harry than a secret love affair. We will need a cover for you that Harry won't be suspicious of. Now, let's see.' 

They watched as Albus peered into nothing as his eyes glazed over. 

'A Project,' he said in the quiet. 'I will set you both a project to do together this year. Harry will assume I'm trying to give you a chance to redeem yourself.' 

'What sort of project?' Draco asked with interest. 

'A Muggleborn Appreciation Project,' Albus said with a smile as he looked them both over. 

Hermione watched Albus wearily as Draco sat with his mouth open. 

'Yes,' Albus mused. 'That would be a very good cover. I will set you both a Project that celebrates all the achievements of the Muggleborns over the centuries. There have been many. Draco. I can tell Harry that I'm attempting to educate you as part of a rehabilitation program connected to your father's current incarceration. Harry will see it as a slightly twisted punishment I have set you, Mr Malfoy.' 

Draco sighed, but he could see the logic. 

'He already has his suspicions of you. He will assume I am also aware. He will think I have set you both this project to keep you out of harm's way, Draco. It will also appeal to Harry's more sardonic nature as well. Draco Malfoy researching Muggleborn's accomplishments under Hermione's supervision will most likely cheer him up a great deal.' 

Hermione and Draco glanced at each other. Hermione saw Draco give her a reassuring nod. 

'It could work,' Draco admitted. 'If he sees us together on the map, then Harry will assume it's to do with that. It would be a sound cover. We would also have a reason to talk to each other in public, rather than signalling to each other and having to hide.' 

'A Muggleborn Appreciation Project,' Hermione wondered aloud. 'Shall we actually do that? It sounds rather interesting. Will we get extra credit if we complete it?' 

Albus gave her a smile. 'If you find it helps take your minds off your current woes, then I would happily endorse it for you both. It can be added to your extracurricular activities record.' 

Draco gave a nod of commitment. 'It sounds more believable, I suppose, than us being together,' he said in a wary voice. 

'Quite,' Albus said. He gave Draco a pondering look. 

Hermione was looking intently at the Headmaster. 

Albus looked at them sombrely. ‘Tom, if he gets an inkling that something is not right, will resort to using a time turner again. He said he acquired it early in 1998. I imagine he can then travel back to late 1997. Harry must defeat him by then. You shall all be back in a similar situation you had left otherwise.’ 

Draco and Hermione’s faces both fell at that. 

‘It is madness, but that it’s what we, well, you, will be dealing with. We need to end this war sooner. I was aghast by the speed at which the new regime operated. Our world collapsed so quickly. We need to negate the damage. An early finish to Tom is wise. This is achievable without the Horcrux hunting that slowed you down in the original timeline.' 

‘The Elder wand?’ Draco asked. 

‘The wand does not operate on normal rules, ‘Albus told them. ‘It is attracted primarily to strength. It can be passed onto another if it is won, that is true, but there are other ways to gain its allegiance. A successful transfer will work when the witch or wizard is also strong. It successfully passed from me to you and then to Harry. All three of us are strong wizards.’

Draco nodded thoughtfully at that. 

‘It worked well enough for Tom, even without true ownership,’ Hermione mumbled. ‘The damage he could do with it if was truly bonded with him….’ she trailed off with a look of horror. 

‘What should we do?’ Draco asked. ‘I mean, would the wand know if we tried to trick it into changing ownership?’ 

‘Oh, yes. It would know. I shouldn't be tricking it as such. I need Harry to earn its allegiance,’ Albus said. ‘I need to ensure Harry is the true owner of the wand. I expect Tom to find my wand as he did before. It is vital he wields it for a time. I hope that we can stick to the original plan in that regard. The elder wand won’t work against its true owner. It shall protect Harry.’ 

‘How are you going to do that?’ Hermione asked. 

‘The less you know, Miss Granger, the better.’ 

Draco and Hermione sighed. 

‘I do have the beginnings of a plan in my mind,’ Albus said. ‘Let’s just say Tom has inspired me. I shall say no more for now.’ 

‘Ok,’ Hermione sighed. ‘I know you like to keep a few secrets. Let me guess; it’s for our own good?’ 

Albus grinned as he gave her a sheepish look. ‘It’s best only I know for now. If I feel either of you need some hints, I shall drop them. Do have peace of mind, though. When I leave this earth, Harry will be the true owner of this wand. Of that, I promise you.’ 

‘But, how will he win it from you? Harry wouldn’t ever fight you,’ Draco asked. 

‘Hush, Mr Malfoy,’ Albus said. ‘I will say this: Harry will be more than up for the challenge. I know what truly makes Harry keep going.’ 

‘What is that?’ Hermione asked. 

Albus put his finger to his lips. 

Draco lifted his eyebrows as Hermione gave a huff. 

‘Now, young ones. I shall be keeping you informed. I have several little plots to prepare. I shall be needing both of you to assist me in the future. In the meantime, off you trot. I have a bank robbery to commit,’ Albus chortled. 

Hermione bit her lip in consternation as Draco beamed at this most audacious of Slytherin crimes their Headmaster was about to commit. 

'It is for the Greater Good, Miss Granger,' Albus said with his blue eyes twinkling. 

Hermione eyed him warily. Albus looked like he was having a bit too much fun. 

They returned to Hermione’s bedroom as Draco played with the new bracelet he had bought and kept glancing in the mirror at his new appearance.  

Hermione lounged on the bed as she stared down at Draco’s pale hands. The Slytherin signet ring sparkled in the light. 

‘What do you think he has planned for Harry?’ Hermione asked him. 

Draco shrugged. ‘Not sure. Harry will need to show the Elder wand his strength in order to claim ownership of the Elder wand. I suppose Dumbledore's going to set some sort of scene for him. Like a roleplay of sorts, but Harry won't be aware of it.’ 

Hermione clicked her tongue. ‘Harry is very strong. He conjured the most amazing Patronus in our third year. Oh, Draco. You should have seen it. It’s a stag. It chased away all these Dementors. Harry’s magic felt wonderful. I was tingling for hours.' 

Her voice had softened as her face became lost in the moment. 

Draco tilted his head. ‘You sometimes talk about Harry like you’re in love with him.' 

Hermione gave him a wry look. ‘Don’t you start. I had enough of that from Ron. I love Harry. I’m not in love with him. There’s a big difference.’ 

Draco observed her for a long moment. 

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ Hermione asked. 

‘Like what?’ he responded. 

‘Like I’m a book you’re studying,’ she stated. 

'Well, people are like books. You just need to know how to read them right.’ 

‘Oh, so you were reading me?’ she asked. 

‘Yes,’ Draco said. ‘It’s a bit of a hobby of mine, actually. I like to know how people tick.’ 

Hermione lifted an eyebrow at that. ‘So what did you read, then?’ 

‘You’re being honest about Harry,’ he said but didn’t elaborate. ‘Why aren't you in love with him?’

‘That’s a bit personal.'

‘You and I couldn’t be any more personal with each other if we tried. I’m interested, that’s all. You and I need to keep this charade up for a while. I need to know these things. I need to know how to act with him when we’re together.’ 

Hermione assessed him.

‘Are you in love with Pansy?’ she asked out of the blue. 

‘I, er. I don’t think so, but I had a great deal going on back then. I didn’t know what I was feeling. I do love her, though. We’ve been friends since we were little. I can be myself with her.’ 

‘Then that’s how you act with Harry, but as me. Be relaxed. Harry and I are like siblings at this point. Nothing more. Harry is someone I trust with my life. He’d never leave me. He’s always going to stand by me. Although, don’t whine to him about Ron. He likes to stay out of it. It’s a no-win situation for him.’ 

Draco smirked. ‘Noted. I will be whingeing to you about Ron, though. You said he was a git all this year. How should I play that?’ 

‘Ugh,’ Hermione scrunched her face up. ‘Play it with disdain. Just let Ron know you think he’s being an idiot. Freeze him out. That’s what I did. Er, if I remember rightly, then it's around now that Ron goes off the deep end. He rows with Ginny about her kissing Dean. He implied some things about her which were not nice, and she said some things back. She told him to stop interfering in her love life and get one of his own. Unfortunately, she let slip that Krum and I kissed months ago. He stopped talking to me for days because of it. Er, we were going to go to the Slug Club Christmas Ball together, but he started dating Lavender. I tried to make him jealous by taking Cormac, but that backfired on me. Cormac is all hands and tongue.’  

‘Did you never sit down and talk about this with Ron at the time?’ 

The look of genuine horror on Hermione’s face, his face, had him gawping. 

‘Oh, my. You didn’t, did you?’ he said. 

‘He was being a total git,’ Hermione said through gritted teeth. ‘I was too mad at him to talk to him.’

‘Well, what was he doing exactly?’ Draco asked. He was very interested in this. Hermione had gone a strange red colour. 

‘I suppose you do need to know the nitty-gritty. Ok. Settle yourself, Draco,’ Hermione mumbled as Draco sank back into a chair and looked at her expectantly.

‘So, it began when Professor Slughorn invited me to be in Slug Club….’ 

Draco sat spellbound as Hermione related every one of Ron’s indiscretions. From calling the Slug Club pathetic, after all of Hermione’s hard work, to snogging Lavender, even after she’d invited him as a guest. His jealousy over her kissing Viktor Krum over a year before. His vicious comment that Viktor only asked her to get closer to Harry because he wanted to sabotage him and for no other reason. 

Hermione filled him in on a lot of the Ron and Hermione drama from other years. Hermione let it all pour out. Just when Draco thought she had finished, she'd take a deep breath, and more anecdotes would sound in his ears. 

His slut-shaming of Ginny. How he had mocked her in class. His mood swings on the Horcrux hunt. Hermione went into great detail about the Slytherin Horcrux and how he’d stormed out and abandoned them after accusing Harry and Hermione of having an affair.

Draco absorbed all this silently. Hermione was talking at a rapid pace.

He gasped when Hermione told him how quickly Harry had forgiven him on his return to the hunt. 

‘Oh, Salazar. Ron would have been getting the silent treatment off me for days if he’d pulled a stunt like that against me,’ he said with conviction. 'Even if he had pulled me out of a lake.’ 

Hermione had nodded vigorously. ‘I know. Harry’s such a pushover with Ron. He lets him get away with far too much. Ron accused him of cheating to get into the Tri-Wizard tournament and then ignored Harry for weeks when Harry most needed him. Ron didn't apologise for that either. He just started talking to him again, and Harry just carried on as if nothing had happened. It’s like I have to do the heavy lifting for both of us. I know I can nag Ron, but Harry rarely says anything to him about his behaviour. It’s so strange. Harry is normally so unforgiving of other people.’ 

‘I suppose it's because they’ve been friends for so long. He’s like Harry’s anchor.’ 

‘Perhaps. I know when Harry truly needs him, he's got his back.'

It took a great deal of effort for Draco not to roll his eyes at this proclamation. 

‘I suppose, when Ron does actually support Harry, it must mean more. Ron's made it clear how difficult he finds that to do,' he said snidely as Hermione frowned.

'Then what happened?’ Draco asked when Hermione didn't say anything to that. 

‘Oh, well, he was like a changed man when he returned to the hunt. He'd had time to think. He was very sweet to me.’ 

Draco stayed silent as he lifted his eyebrow. 

‘What?’ Hermione asked. 

‘What?’ Draco asked her back with puzzlement. 

‘That look you just did. It was dismissive.' 

‘It’s your life, Hermione. It just seems that, perhaps, he was putting on an act. You've told me his personality changed completely. That doesn't just happen..’ he trailed off uncomfortably as Hermione stared at him. 

‘Enunciate, Draco.' 

‘Mother always told me to stay away from women who were jealous and selfish. She said they were not marriage material. That a woman like that would make me miserable.’ 

Hermione frowned. ‘Ron and I were having a difficult time. I acted like a jealous cow when I set those birds on him.’ 

‘No, that wasn’t jealousy. That was rage. He said he’d go to the Slug Club with you. Then he was snogging Lavender in front of you. He didn’t regard your feelings at all. Jealously isn’t that. Jealousy is him being angry you were invited in the first place. That Slughorn had acknowledged your abilities and not his. You’ve said it yourself he does the bare minimum in class. I've seen you help him in class. Ron makes no effort to improve himself but has a go at those who do and then acts like he's the one who has been unfairly overlooked. Why should Slughorn reward laziness? Your friends should be happy about your success. They shouldn’t put you down or demean your accomplishments. They should be proud of you.’ 

‘It’s all in the past now. Ron matured. He used to be insecure, but then he grew up. I’m only telling you this because I need you to rise above it this year. He was never normally this bad before. I mean, he had his moments, but not like this. I even skipped going to the Burrow this Christmas because of how bad it had got between us.’ 

Draco shrugged. ‘Relax. I won’t lose any sleep over him. If you're sure he’s going to grow out of that sort of behaviour, then good. We’ve discussed this. I know he has his good and bad points. You know him a lot better than I do.’ 

‘I am sure,’ Hermione retorted. ‘It was a stressful year for Ron. You remember the hard time the Slytherins gave him at Quidditch. His confidence was at an all-time low.’ 

Draco gave a disbelieving snort at that. 

Hermione pulled her lips firmly together and glared at him. 

‘Really, Hermione? This was a tough year for Ron? Now I really have heard everything. People were being killed. People were going missing. Muggleborns were being attacked in Diagon Alley. Harry’s godfather had just been killed, and he had Tom breathing down his neck, and you're telling me that Ron actually had the audacity to insist that you two focus on his Quidditch skills.'

Hermione didn't respond to that observation as Draco shook his head.

'Fuck me. I thought I was egotistical,’ he said in a wry tone.  

Hermione grimaced. ‘I know, all right. I've told you this. He was not nice this year. He got nicer next summer. He was giving me compliments. Then the locket happened. I’m going to stop talking for a little bit, actually. I’m getting that tight feeling in my stomach again, and I really, really want to punch something.’ 

‘Mm,’ Draco murmured. ‘I know that feeling very well. Thank Merlin for the Reparo spell.’ 

He ran his fingers through glossy locks and felt the comforting sensation of money well-spent drift through him. 

After a while, Draco glanced at her. ‘You mentioned you took Cormac to Slug Club instead. Ron was unpleasant to him, even though you weren't actually dating.’

‘Cormac had been rather rude to Ron and Harry at the Quidditch trials. Ron didn’t like him for that either.’ 

‘There was Harry. Someone that Ron has known for years. He must have known Harry knew about you both. He accused his best friend of betraying him with no evidence at all. Was there anyone else Ron was angry with?’ 

‘Well, if you must know, Viktor Krum turned up to Fleur and Bill’s wedding, and Ron got a little annoyed at that, too.’ 

Draco frowned. 'Have you ever spoken to anyone properly about Ron? Clearly, it's the one thing you can't talk to Harry about.' 

Hermione wavered. 'Er, sometimes Ginny. She knows what he can get like.' 

'So, his sister,' Draco murmured. 'Would I be right in thinking you hold certain things back with her?' 

Hermione gave a tiny nod. 

'Not anyone else?' Draco asked. 

'I, well. It's embarrassing, really,' Hermione admitted. 'You know. It's Ron. You know how we are together. We bicker.' 

Draco frowned. 'It's just, ugh, you've just ranted about Ron for over an hour with me. I get the feeling you've been holding a lot in for a very long time.' 

Hermione sighed and gave him a dismal look. 'It's Ron. People just sort of roll their eyes about it when we row. We've been arguing since the first year. They think it's childish nonsense. I know I nag him. I know what I can be like. I wind him up, too. I'm too opinionated. I do push people.' 

Draco rubbed at his cheekbone as he struggled to find the words to say.

'I, er, the thing is, you're not kids anymore. I don't want to rock the boat, but people don't behave like this in a healthy relationship. I'm not saying they don't argue, but it should be rare and, really, only for things that actually matter. Giving you the silent treatment because you kissed someone else over a year ago isn't normal behaviour. He told you Viktor only asked you out to get information on Harry. Think about what you've told me. Ron asked you as a last resort to the Ball. He made it clear to you that it wasn't anything more. Then he only got angry when someone did ask you.'

'It's a long time ago. It was when he was younger.' 

'It wasn't that long ago. He actually told you, to your face, that your date didn't ask you out because he liked you. That he was only using you. That's fucking sick, Hermione. And don't give me that line about him being immature. First years don't say spiteful shit like that to someone. You always list your negative traits to me. You say you nag. That you're demanding. Why is that?' 

Hermione looked away from him and didn't respond.   

'Doesn't Ron ever tell you your good points? Does he criticise you a lot? Has he gone on and on so much about what he perceives to be your flaws that's all you think you are now? Has he made you think you're lucky he puts up with you?' 

Hermione was clenching her fist at this point.

'He complimented me in the summer term about my spell work.' 

Draco waited for more and then looked at her with astonishment at the silence.

'That's it? Does he ever tell you that you look nice? Has he ever told you that he likes your company? Does he say anything nice to you? Has he ever complimented you about the way you looked at the Yule Ball?' 

Hermione rolled her eyes as she grimaced at that particularly unpleasant memory of the Yule Ball.

'He was very nice when he came back to us,' she said quietly.  

'When he wanted you back. He knew he'd messed up. Think back. Right now, in this time we're both in, can you recollect anything positive he has said to you in this year?'

Hermione peered into space and searched her memory. 

Draco gawped at her as the silence transcended longer than a minute. 

'Er, not off the top of my head,' Hermione admitted. 'Although, I hardly gave out the compliments, either.' 

'Compliment him for what? Well done, Ron. You've napped for three hours this afternoon. Oh, you pulled a comb through your hair. Well done. It must be Thursday. Oh, Ron, is that five or six sausages you've crammed into your gob? How amazing. Oh, Ron, thank you for calling me a nag because I asked if you'd done your homework yet as it's due in the morning. Oh, of course you can copy mine. You've really earned my help for working so hard. What's that? Yes, I'm an annoying know-it-all, aren't I? Please, put me down some more, Ron. It makes me feel so good about myself.'

Draco said this in a very sarcastic tone, made all the more authentic as Hermione watched herself bleat this nonsense. 

'Harry faked giving him that Felix Felicis for a Quidditch match to help his confidence. I didn't know,' Hermione said. 'It had a placebo effect. Ron played really well. When I told Harry off for cheating, it all came out. Ron was really angry at me for not believing in him.' 

'You have always supported him. You've always encouraged him. I know the match you're talking about. It's the first time he played well. I would have thought the same if I were you. He had played like total crap up to that match. It was a genuine mistake. See, he turned it all around on you. He never wastes an opportunity to create drama with you. The slightest hint that you don't think the sun shines out of his ass, and the temper tantrums start. Do you really want your life to be like that?' 

Hermione pulled a face. 

'I get it now. He's spent years calling you a nag. A know-it-all. He's tried to bring you down at every opportunity. He even criticised your Elf cause. It's all one way with him. He can dish it out, but he really can't take it.' 

'Shut up, Draco,' Hermione spat. 'You're making more of this than what there is. He's not like that. You're making him sound awful.' 

He put his hands up and let the tension in the room dissipate for several very long minutes. Hermione looked distraught.  

'I have said some horrendous things to you over the years. I'm ashamed of them now, but at the time, I said them to you because I hated what you stood for. You were always showing me up in class. I resented you. I was raised that way. I wanted to bring you down. I wanted to make you feel worthless. I was told all my life that I was better than you. I know now that's bollocks. In many ways, you're better than me. You're so brave. You have always stood up to Tom and his Death Eaters. Remember in the bookshop when you met father and you gave him the stink eye? How old were you? Twelve? These are amazing qualities to have. Has Ron ever once praised you for that? Ron's spent years exaggerating what he thinks are your flaws. You know, it's brilliant to be a know-it-all. You're intelligent. He's tried to make you feel ashamed of it.' 

Hermione had frozen at that statement. 

'You hated me for saying those vile things to you when I was younger. Why do you always make excuses for Ron? He always criticises you.' 

Hermione had gone mute. 

'Tell me honestly,' Draco asked. 'When I was being such a little shit to you, did you ever believe any of those words about what I was saying to you?' 

Hermione shook her head. 

'That's right. Because I was your enemy. Do you believe every word Ron says to you?' 

Her silence spoke volumes. 

Draco sat back on the chair and waited for Hermione to look at him. This took some time. She eventually turned to him with a cold look in her eyes.

He stared back at her. 

'I'm just giving you my objective opinion based on what you've told me about him. Take it or leave it. Like I said. It's your life. I'm not going to think the best of him. I don't like him. I never have done. I think he's a fraud who has manipulated you and Harry into carrying him. He has somehow made it all about him and has made you both say thank you to him for that dubious honour. If you want to hear it sugarcoated, talk to someone else about him,' Draco told her plainly with a caustic tone. 

Hermione sighed and gestured to him to continue. 

‘I, er. Just so I know for future reference, was anything actually happening with you and any of the men that Ron was jealous of?’ he asked her.

‘Of course not. Cormac was too full on. I finished that before it started. Harry, no. Viktor and I are just friends now. I like Viktor, but not enough to marry him.’ 

‘What if something was happening between you and Harry? It's not impossible for friends to turn into something more, especially two who are as close as you both are. Especially with the strain you were both under at that time. Things can happen. How do you think he would have reacted if it had? Would he have got violent?’ 

Hermione frowned and stared down at her hands. 'I don't know,' she murmured. She remembered the shield she'd had to put up in the tent to stop Harry and Ron from fighting. 

‘From what you've told me of this year, Ron is someone who was making out with someone else in front of you for weeks, knowing for certain you liked him like that. You're supposed to be one of his best friends, and he actually wanted to hurt you. That is actually very disturbing behaviour, and I speak as a Slytherin when I tell you that. We're not known for our morals. When you even speak to another man, he gets volatile. It sounds like he's very possessive of you, but by behaving like that with Lavender in front of you, he's not showing you any respect.’ 

‘Why do you care?’ Hermione snapped in anger. 

‘Believe it or not, from what you've told me, I'm actually concerned for you. From what little I've already seen and heard, it's been one little battle after another between you, hasn't it? Marriage is for life in the Wizarding World. Divorce is almost unheard of. Are you sure you want to spend it with a man who considers his own feelings ahead of yours every single bloody time?’ 

‘Ron does consider my feelings,’ Hermione said in a strangled voice.

‘No, he doesn't, certainly not above his own. From what you've told me, Ron doesn't see a loving relationship here. He sees this as a battle of wills. I’m sure he cares about you, just not as much as he cares about himself,’ Draco said in a firm voice. 

There was a stillness in the room as Hermione gazed at him mutely. 

‘You need to be careful, Hermione. When we do change back, think very long and hard about the man you’re going to spend your life with. My mother has been very thorough with me. Marriage is very important to my family, and she expects me to choose well. She told me that some character traits are innate. They can't be changed. Has he ever once apologised to you about anything he's done to you and admitted he was wrong? If not, it's because he either doesn't think he's done anything wrong or he doesn't actually respect you. Neither option bodes well for marriage.’ 

‘Just leave it,’ Hermione said tiredly. ‘I know him in a way that you don’t. He's loyal. He's protective. You can't stand him. You two have always been at each other's throats. You just don't want me to like him either, so you don't have to bother with him. That’s all this is.’ 

'That's not it. I was prepared to play dumb with him until you told me your history. Loyalty is about having someone else's best interests at heart. From what you've told me about Ron, it doesn't seem to me that he actually does want what's best for you. He doesn't support your academics. He's jealous of any man you speak to, even Harry. He knowingly upsets you. He actually goes out of his way to do that. Earlier today, he couldn't resist putting you down over a haircut.'

'What happened?' Hermione asked. She was exhausted by this heavy conversation. 

'He said he didn't like it, even though it makes you look better. He said you looked like a snobby Slytherin. He told me to change it back. He actually gave me an order. He said it doesn't suit you. That's a lie, Hermione. Everyone else loves it. Well, Lavender and Parvati have yet to comment. They looked resentful, though. That's how I know for sure it's brilliant. He was glaring at me. He wanted an argument with me. Think about that. He wanted to argue with you about a fucking haircut. Does he always look for a fight with you over any bullshit reason? He ignored you for months over a bloody rat, didn't he?'

'We don't always fight,' Hermione said in a resigned tone.  

Draco gave an audible scoff.

'Oh my god. Listen to yourself. Can't you see what he's doing? This isn't a relationship. It's a contest to him, and he's playing to win. He won't rest until you stop arguing with him, and you just give in and do as you're told.' 

Hermione huffed out in annoyance. 'I shouldn't have said anything. I'm just vexed with this whole thing. You're twisting things. Ron has a lot of good qualities. He can be very funny.' 

'If he's so fucking funny, why aren't you laughing?' Draco asked in a dark tone.

Hermione shrunk back at the menace in his voice. In her voice. She had begun to get used to seeing her face. In the last few days, Draco had been rather pleasant with her. His scathing tone reminded her who was really inside her body. It hadn't been directed at her, but still. It was a stark reminder of who was really there with her in this room. 

Draco had watched her do this as he nodded to himself in understanding. 

'Hermione, I'm a direct person. I tell it as I see it, and what I'm seeing here is not good. None of it is.'

'Ron becomes a decent man. I've told you this. I've only told you our history because you need to be prepared for this year.' 

'My parents, for all their faults, love each other. I know what a good marriage takes to work. My father would never have treated my mother the way Ron has treated you. I think you're so desperate to believe he's becoming the man you want him to be that you're refusing to see the big picture.' 

Hermione didn't respond. 

'Look, you're me for now. Why don't you take a good look at your future husband from an outsider's point of view? I think you're so close to him, your eyes can't see what's right in front of you.' 

'I can see what's right in front of me. You have only ever seen the worst of him. I know who he truly is. I want to be alone now, ok.' 

Draco sighed at this dismissal.

'Right. Personally, I think he is incredibly selfish. I genuinely don't know what you see in him. I don't think he will be a good husband to you. Selfish people shouldn't be married. There. I've said my piece. I think it's best we leave it there for both our sakes. I'll play you to the best of my ability with the others. I won't go looking for trouble with Ron but don't expect me to tolerate any of his shit. It's been nauseating for me to simply listen to you talk about him. When we switch back, do what you want, but if, years from now, you're stuck in a miserable marriage, don't say you weren't warned.' 

Hermione gave him a stilted nod at this admission from Draco. 

Hermione didn’t say goodbye as she watched him leave. Draco had verbalised a lot of thoughts that had been swirling around her own mind in her sixth year.

The build-up of testosterone had built up to unmanageable levels, and she punched the wall hard enough to crack it. When that still hadn't calmed her, she punched it again. Then, one more time. 

It was with a heavy heart, a bruised knuckle, and the anger dealt with that she finally collapsed back on the bed. 

She'd never been that open about Ron with anyone before, and years of annoyance and resentment had gone into that long rant. She'd hated listening to what Draco had said about Ron. She felt like a traitor to Ron. Ron was always going on about loyalty and being there for each other. He had always emphasised how important it was that they stand together. 

'Do as I say, not as I do,' came the whisper in her mind. 

The unnerving thought that did flitter through her mind was that all Draco had responded to was the truth. He had given her his opinions based on the facts that Hermione had provided him with. True, Draco couldn't stand Ron anyway, which had ignited his very aggressive response, but still. 

The cold, hard facts about Ron's actions over the years, which Hermione had squashed neatly into a long, precise summary, had finally been addressed directly to her without pulling any punches.

Ginny had plenty of criticisms about her brother, too, but she hadn't been anywhere near as brutal as Draco had been. 

Hermione closed her eyes. She tried to think logically.  Perhaps she was simply trying reverse psychology with herself. There was the real possibility that she would lose Ron. It could be that she was subconsciously trying to make that potential loss easier on herself by focusing on the bad times. 

She began to drift off as her mind wandered. Draco had been awful about Ron. She curled up. Draco hated Ron. His vitriol was off the scale. That's all that was. Slytherin venom in full flow. They'd sleep on it and move on. There were other things to be concerned about. Her love life was certainly not a priority right now. Magic had brought them back here. Magic was looking after her. They just had to fix the timeline, switch back and then she'd move on with Ron. That would be the happy ending. In a decade from now, she'd been working at the Ministry, be married to Ron and be thinking about having babies. Maybe, by then, she'd already have had one. 

With that peaceful thought in her mind, she finally went to sleep. 

Chapter Text

Hermione awoke to feel surprisingly rested. The previous evening’s conversation with Draco had been rather unsettling, but one that had been inevitable in hindsight. Draco had simply needed to get his negative feelings out about Ron. Hermione had needed to talk about Ron. Draco had been right about that. She’d been bottling a lot up. 

Draco had made some valid points. He had highlighted some behavioural traits about Ron that had also given her cause for concern when she was younger. It had been interesting for her to hear Draco had some morality in regard to marriage. That he had been so adamant with his criticism of a lot of Ron’s behaviour being unacceptable had both unnerved and relaxed her in different ways. 

His mother had given him some very valid advice. Hermione considered the formidable Narcissa. She sounded rather sensible. She hadn’t expected that due to the Malfoy family's irrational attitude to blood status. She supposed one person could always be wrong about some things and right about others. His mother actually sounded a lot like her own mother. Hermione hadn’t spoken about Ron’s behaviour to her own mum. 

As Hermione lay there in the bed and let her mind drift over that rather unpleasant conversation with Draco, she could acknowledge why. A part of her had known her mother would not have been impressed with Ron and would have advised her against becoming more than friends with him. Hermione cringed slightly at that realisation. She thought of her father. She could grudgingly admit that he would have been angry with a lot of Ron's behaviour. 

She had originally assumed the Malfoys had simply been a marriage of convenience. Knowing for sure they had married for love placated her a great deal. It made them at least seem like actual human beings. Draco was genuinely concerned for her. He had been too scornful of Ron, though. Again, his view of Ron was different to hers. 

She supposed she hadn’t helped with her rant. Still, it was a good sign he was actually worried about her. They were getting closer. 

That even a Slytherin had been shocked by some of Ron’s less than finer moments did put a great deal in perspective for her. Hermione ran her hand through short hair. It was becoming an action she found soothing. Draco Malfoy was actually worried about her. Ron wasn’t that bad. Was he? At this point in the timeline, he had been. At the height of the Lavender era, she had privately washed her hands of it all and had been prepared to move on. Ron clearly wasn't interested in her. Then he had sounded so pitiful in the hospital bed. So vulnerable that her heart had melted. 

Draco's opinion about that incident pushed itself to the front of her mind as she pushed it back. That was Draco assuming the worst. 

Still, that was all in the past. Ron was special. She was so sure about him. She looked up at the ceiling as she mused. Her boggart was failure. She didn’t quit at anything. Still, Draco’s words were still lingering in the back of her mind, and they weren’t going away. 

She had never had anyone at Hogwarts completely and utterly on her side before in regard to Ron. She frowned at that thought. It wasn’t about sides. She admonished herself. It was just everyone she knew was compromised in some way with Ron. They were either friends with them both, or they were related to him. Ron gave the impression he was laid back and easygoing. Most of the time, he was. He’d say little jokes, and he had a sharp wit. He was generally well-liked. They couldn’t give her impartial advice. 

Draco didn’t believe Ron would be a good husband to her based on what she had told him. She knew Ron would be good to her. Her mind tried to gloss over some of the impracticalities of how a marriage between them would actually work. Ron had no real ambition. He was content to just drift through life. He'd only really put any effort into Quidditch and what a calamity that had been for everyone when Ron actually had to work at something. He was oversensitive. She was blunt, critical and focused on success. 

What if the bickering continued? Hermione thought again of that image she'd had in her head before she went to sleep about having children in the distant future. A lot of their arguments could be based on teenage hormones when they were younger. There had been a lot of silly arguments between people at Hogwarts. They were older now and the annoying bickering had slowly turned into full-blown arguments. Hermione wasn't naive. She knew Harry got sick of it. He normally kept a lid on his emotions, but even he had sometimes spoken out angrily. 

Hermione closed her eyes and pictured a kitchen table with her future family around it. Two young children and an older Ron were sitting there. 

'Have you taken the rubbish out, yet?' her older self would say to Ron who was sitting down reading the newspaper. 

'Huh, yeah, inna minute.' 

'Well, I've got to go to work soon. Can you promise me you'll take it out?' she would ask. 

A loud sigh would sound behind the newspaper. 'I'll do it when I'm ready.' 

'Yes, but you said that last week and you forgot.'

Her voice would do that thing where it got shriller. She didn't like that voice, but it always came out of her mouth the more irritated she got.  

'Merlin's sake, Hermione. Will you ever stop nagging me?' 

The paper would be slung on the table, and there would be a huff as the door would slam, and the sounds of the rubbish being put out would sound around the house as two young children would look around nervously. 

'Is daddy angry?' 

'No, he's not angry. That's just your dad being your dad.' 

An older Ron would storm back in and roll his eyes. 'Happy now? Your precious rubbish is now ready for collection. Do you have anything else on the bloody itinerary for today? I may as well be in the army.'

Her older self would do that thing with her eyes and stare at him with condemnation.

'I want for you to make an effort, Ronald. Is that too much to ask?' 

Two little kids would be looking back and forth with worried expressions. 

Hermione castigated herself for thinking like that. Their marriage wouldn't be like that. She bit her lip. It would most probably be like that. If they did get married, there would be a good possibility they'd be in marriage counselling by the time they reached thirty. Draco had said marriage was for life in the Wizarding World. It had set her mind whirling.

Hermione clenched her jaw. It was one thing for Ron and her to argue, with Harry having to be a very reluctant witness to it all when they were still at Hogwarts. It was quite another to picture two young children having to witness that constant shit-show back and forth between their parents in their own home. 

She supposed she could be a trailblazer and get a rare divorce if it didn't work out. 

Her eyes snapped open at that creeping thought. 

Would they really have a miserable marriage? Draco had pointed out some character traits were innate. Ron was a jealous man. He was possessive. Draco had been correct in what he had said in that regard. She had often thought that herself.

Hermione shook herself. Ron was protective of her, though.

She smiled at that thought. Her smile faltered. Would that be enough? Protective could turn to possessive very quickly too. Ron had shown some troubling signs of that. His behaviour could be controlling. He didn't like how close she was with Harry. Both Harry and her had kept their distance from each other since Ron returned.

She had gotten quieter with him over time. Apart from the row they’d had when he returned to the Horcrux Hunt, the arguments between them had dissipated. He had been on his best behaviour. What happened later? If Harry fulfilled the prophecy, properly this time, and they could move on with their lives, how soon before they were back to bickering? 

She remembered his expectation that she would be responsible for cooking on the Hunt. That had irritated her. She had quickly asked him if it was because she was the only girl. He had tried to say it was because she was the best at magic, but cooking spells wasn't something she was good at. When the food she had managed to cook was served, he was very quick to criticise her because it wasn't perfect. 

Marriage and children was a massive life change. Hermione was astute enough to know she wasn't going to be a perfect wife and mother. No woman would be. No man would be a perfect husband and father. It was a learning experience for everyone. Mistakes happened. She suspected that Ron would expect her to be an amazing wife and mother from the moment he put a ring on her finger. He had lamented how much better his own mother's cooking had been than hers. He would inevitably get upset when that perfect existence he expected didn't happen. 

She had more than pulled her weight with everything else on that Hunt, and he had rowed with her because her food spells weren't adequate, even though he rarely cooked. Hermione scowled at the memory. 

'Oh my god. Listen to yourself. Can’t you see what’s he’s doing? This isn’t a relationship. It’s a contest to him, and he’s playing to win. He won’t rest until you stop arguing with him, and you just give in and do as you’re told.’ 

She had been so tired by that point. Tired of the war. Tired of Ron’s dark moods. With Harry a shadow of himself on the Hunt, she’d had nothing to elevate herself with. 

She had ended up doing most of the cooking for them just to avoid the hostile looks and curt comments that Ron had been shooting her when she had declined at first. Harry had helped her. Ron hadn’t done much at all to help. All he’d done was criticise what they had managed to rustle up. 

She’d been so upset when he’d left them. She’d cried a lot. She’d felt more exposed to the threats. She’d felt that she’d failed with Ron. Still, Harry and she had continued. They had survived. They had obtained valuable information about the elder wand and had escaped Nagini and Tom, together.

Harry’s broken wand had been a blow, but as time had progressed, she’d stopped crying. She had felt an inner strength from somewhere. It turned out they hadn’t needed Ron after all. If Harry had actually woken her when the doe came, then they wouldn't have needed Ron then either. She was more than capable of retrieving Harry from a lake. The mood in the tent was bleak, but it hadn’t felt anywhere near as oppressive without him there. 

Hermione stopped that line of thinking and put it to the back of her mind. It was the first time she had admitted that to herself.  There was absolutely nothing she could do about Ron for now. She had other things to worry about. 

She stretched out on the comfortable bed in Draco’s long body and peered cautiously down. It was with great relief nothing was standing up for attention for once. She’d be able to have a nice warm shower this morning. 

She thought again of Ron and how he had stood up for her in the Great Hall. How frantic he had been at Malfoy Manor when Bellatrix had discovered the sword. Ron did care about her. 

Draco knew that too. Ron just had a funny way of showing it sometimes. 

She sighed as she rubbed the stubble on her chin and considered all this. Life was made up of a lot of grey. She thought of Draco. He was more complex than she would have ever thought possible even a week ago. 

He had a bully boy side. She was well aware of that. Slytherin had a tough reputation.  He was also strangely traditional in regard to his future wife. He had mentioned respect several times. He had implied he intended to marry for love, too, like his parents. Hermione gave a soft smile at that. She had never expected that of him. She had thought his future marriage would be one of a power match with the most eligible Heiress of some very wealthy house. 

She glanced down at herself. She was no longer a squirming wreck in the morning, but it was still unnerving to look down at Draco’s pale chest. Her eyes glanced over herself. He was in good shape. He had a lean figure and long limbs. Her finger slowly grazed the blond hair on his chest in a comforting way. 

She tilted her head in deep thought. She was stroking Draco’s chest in a comforting way. But she wasn’t. It was her chest. It was his chest. Was it wrong to touch him so gently? But she wasn’t, she was touching herself. 

This was so confusing. She sat up and swung her legs over the side. Her now hairy legs. Hermione’s lips twitched. She wondered if Draco was shaving her legs as she did or if he was going to go au Naturale. 

She decided not to ask him. 

She stood and made her way to the bathroom. This part was getting easier. She didn’t shower with one eye closed anymore; on the other hand, she hardly stood gawping at her new body. 

She was practical and concise with her ablutions now. It wasn’t so much different in most ways. They both had arms and legs. They both had a head and a torso. 

Her eyes glanced down and quickly shot back up. No. She wasn’t quite there yet. She was going blind in that area. Literally. 

She hadn’t spoken much to Draco about the physical implications of their swap yet. She was still mortified about it. Hermione dressed with great care. Exquisite cuff links and a diamond watch were added to her ensemble. She straightened the Slytherin tie and double-checked herself for marks. She was pristine. She stared into the mirror at Draco. 

When his face wasn’t all scrunched up or being thuggish, he had a rather compelling face.

Hermione ran her fingers over her now smooth chin. She had got the hang of shaving. 

Draco had quite fine features. His grey eyes reminded her of Sirius. She found them comforting for that reason. Sirius had always been very kind to her. He had full lips and defined cheekbones. 

His pale skin and blond hair contrasted nicely with his facial features.

Hermione sighed. She had another full day of lessons that she had already sat through before. On the bright side, she could do the work in her sleep. It allowed her to focus on maintaining the image of Draco. She had to sit differently and hold his haughty expression on her face. 

It wasn’t too difficult to act annoyed. She felt rather tense anyway. Sure, she’d often suffered from stress and tension in her old body, but this was a more nuanced strain. 

She lifted her wand and quickly did a cheering charm on herself. It helped soothe the aggravation she physically felt simply from breathing. She needed to find a way to destress from this entire situation. A long hot bath beckoned her at some point. 

Draco sat next to Harry and ate his breakfast as casually as he could muster. Ron was ignoring him. Harry looked a little awkward. Draco ended up speaking to Dean. 

Hermione had briefed him on the level of friendship she shared with her housemates. Dean was casual. Hermione liked him but discussed very little of any real consequence with him. This was just about all he could manage right now. 

A short conversation followed about her hair. Dean thought it was a vast improvement as Ron gave them both a scornful look. 

‘You look like a wannabe,’ Ron said over the table. 

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Draco asked. 

Ron shrugged. 

‘No, don’t just shrug. I asked you a question. You made a personal comment towards me. Elaborate,’ Draco said in a calm voice. 

Ron gave a scoff. ‘Elaborate. Do you ever listen to yourself when you talk? You use all these poncy words no one else our age uses. What is that about? Why do you always pretend like you’re fifty?’ 

Ron had waved his hands around in a silly manner and grinned around at the group of Gryffindors to suggest this was simply a harmless joke. 

There were a few sniggers from around the table at this.  

Draco could see Harry shift awkwardly as he narrowed his own eyes in deep thought. Harry didn’t look shocked. Just resigned. Draco considered all this. He saw immediately how Ron operated. A criticism wrapped in caustic humour. He knew the tactic immediately. He’d used it himself on many occasions. His father had taught him well. 

Judging by Harry's expression, this sort of subtle antagonism must be a common incident. Harry must be so sick of this. 

‘I’m going to class. I’ll see you all later,’ Draco said suddenly. After hearing the warts and all story from Hermione the night before, he wasn’t in the mood for Ron. 

Harry looked at him in surprise. Draco just stood, and like the day before, simply left them. 

On the way out he heard Lavender and Parvati do their silly giggles. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron with a slightly confused expression. Draco understood. Bickering. Ron had expected Hermione to be goaded into yet another argument.

He had seen many of their infamous bickerings in the past. They all had. Hermione’s clear cut voice had drifted over to the Slytherin table on many occasions. She was no slouch in that area herself. 

He’d often been dismissive of her in the past. Hermione’s voice could get very shrill at times. She had a dominant personality and could be rather critical. He’d heard some of her scathing repertoire for himself in the past. She had more than held her own. He’d witnessed some fabulous meltdowns over the years. Although now he thought about it, it had been a while since he’d heard her raised, annoyed voice. Hermione had got a lot quieter in their sixth year.

He knew now that Ron had been ignoring her for most of it because of her almighty sin of kissing someone else months before when Ron had shown no interest in her at the time. 

Draco made his way down the corridor. That felt like a long time ago now. 

They had been growing up. Well, some of them had. He wondered again about Ron. Hermione had spoken about his insecurities. Draco wasn’t convinced. Ron’s entire persona was very arrogant. He appeared at first glance to be rather laid back and casual, but he had a very sharp tongue. Draco had noticed that in their first year. 

Draco’s Slytherin mind suspected that Ron could have planted that idea in their minds as a cover. He had implied he was vulnerable to make others give him more leeway when he was obnoxious. It could simply be a false excuse.  

Across the next table, Hermione watched him leave with consternation. She’d heard what was said. She had seen the looks Ron had given Draco. Hermione sighed to herself. Ron’s annoyed reaction to her new haircut wasn’t unexpected. He had often picked at things she wore. 

Harry had looked morose at first by what Ron had said to Draco. To her. She had watched herself stand with a blank expression and leave without looking back. 

Lavender had moved to sit next to Ron and had whispered something in his ear that made Ron smirk. 

She watched herself leave the Great Hall without a backwards look. Her eyes found Ron again. He was chatting quite closely to Lavender now. 

‘Granger is looking very good,’ Blaise said in her ear. 

Hermione kept her mouth shut. 

‘Her new cut suits her. What do you think, Draco? Is she up to your high standards yet?'

‘Just don’t,’ Hermione said weakly. 

‘Ah, right. I forgot. You two have that whole hate, nemesis, want each other to drop dead thing. It’s akin to a greek tragedy.’ 

‘That’s right,’ Hermione said in a tight voice. 

‘So, you’ve not even thought about her once in that way?’ Blaise asked in a smooth voice. 

‘No, I haven’t,’ Hermione said through gritted teeth. 

‘Your denial is breathtaking,’ Blaise said in a sardonic tone. 

'I can truthfully say I have never thought about Granger in that way,’ she said with conviction.

This was an undeniable fact.  

‘It’s a shame you two don't get on,’ Blaise continued, seemingly oblivious to Hermione’s obvious discomfort. ‘You two would be well suited.’ 

Hermione rolled her eyes at that. ‘Just stop. We have nothing in common.’ 

Blaise scoffed at that. 

‘You two have everything in common. It’s actually quite eerie how alike you two are.’ 

‘Stop talking nonsense,’ Hermione said in a wry tone. ‘We’re worlds apart.’ 

Blaise took a sip of coffee. ‘On the contrary. You must see the parallels.’ 

‘Granger and I have nothing in common. The only thing we share is a mutual dislike of each other, which suits me fine.’

‘Granger thinks very highly of herself. She is arrogant. She thinks she’s always right. She’s ambitious. Remind you of anyone?’ 

Hermione took offence on both of their behalf as she glared at Blaise. 

Blaise gave her a big smile. 'Like must be with like. You would be the power couple. Just think what she’d look like on your arm. Granger could be running this country within a decade. You'd run the show behind the scenes. The Malfoys. The Governors of the Wizarding World. Damn, it sounds like a Mafia movie.' 

'You're not funny,' Hermione said in a low tone.

The less Blaise knew about the Malfoy's the better. Both the Malfoy's fortunes and their very lives were in a very precarious position whatever the future held. 

Blaise gave her a grin. ‘Let’s be honest with each other. The fact of the matter is this. If Granger was a pureblood you’d have already turned on the charm and taken her home to meet Mr and Mrs Malfoy. Deep down you know that. Is that why you resent her so much? You want what you can’t have?’ 

‘What?’ Hermione spluttered. 

‘I know you,’ Blaise said with a crooked grin. ‘You can deny it all you like, you can lie to yourself as much as you like, but Granger is very much your type. You like your women strong, fierce and intellectual. Now I can actually see her face it turns out she’s also rather easy on the eye too. Another tick in the box, eh, Malfoy.’ 

Hermione couldn’t think of one word to say to that announcement.

‘Admit it,’ Blaise said. ‘You seek her out. There are a lot of muggleborn girls in this school. You never pay any attention to any of them. Why her? Why do you always target her? Good grief. You’re like the little boy pulling on a girls’ pigtails that he likes. It’s so obvious.’  

Hermione felt herself physically pale at this. 

Her normally quick brain had screeched to a halt.

Hermione packed her bag and left the table when not one word could manifest itself.

Blaise waved goodbye with a chortle.

'So, that’s bloke banter,’ Hermione thought wryly. She didn’t like it. 

She decided not to mention that alarming conversation to Draco. Blaise was most probably just pulling Draco’s leg anyway. Hermione picked up the pace. Guys always liked to make silly jokes with their male friends. Blaise would be talking about some other girl next week. 

She glanced at Ron on the way out. He was leaning towards Lavender with a flirty expression on his face. Harry was looking elsewhere. Hermione kept on walking. She’d thought Lavender had just appeared out of the blue. It looked like the flirting had started earlier than she’d believed. 

She walked to her first class deep in thought. Ron had been all over Lavender for weeks. Lavender had acted the role of besotted, in love girlfriend to perfection. Ron was amazing. Ron was brilliant. Ron could do no wrong. 

Ron had tired of it in the end. Hermione had wondered at that. Lavender was everything Ron seemed to want from a girlfriend. Compliant, worshipful. She never answered back. Ron was everything, and Lavender was so, so grateful he wanted to be with her. 

Hermione stood by a window and gazed out into the Hogwarts grounds. Why, then, had he come back to her? At the time, Hermione had been so pleased. She had believed Ron had wanted more from a relationship than blind worship. That he had wanted to be challenged. That he had wanted something real. 

But then, it still turned out that Ron didn’t like to be challenged. He didn't like it when Hermione hugged Harry. He snapped when the food on the Hunt wasn't up to his perfect standards. He had still got angry with her. With both of them. The pressure Harry was under was astronomical. He had been a seventeen-year-old with the fate of a country on his shoulders. They had been scrambling in the dirt, trying to find answers, and Ron had still picked at them.  

As she looked over at the Quidditch pitch, her mind wandered. Draco had called Ron and Hermione a battle of wills. Did Ron see a contest? Was he trying to change her into someone she wasn't? She had tried to change him when she was younger. She'd wanted him to be more focused. As time had progressed, the penny had dropped for her that this was futile. She had accepted him for who he was. Still, Ron had persisted. Did he expect Hermione to devote her life to making sure he was always comfortable?

Hermione stared blankly in space. This was all Draco. Putting all these awful ideas in her head. Ron wasn’t like that. 

He was. 

No, he wasn’t. Ron loved her. 

No, he didn’t. 

Yes, he did. 

He sees you as his possession. 

An important possession to be controlled. 

Hermione gulped. There was a fine line between being protective and being possessive, and she could admit to herself that Ron had more than once crossed that line with her. 

Draco had asked her if she had reached the point that, because of all his complaining, she believed she was lucky that Ron had put up with her. 

A sudden hollow feeling spread out in her stomach as she grudgingly admitted to herself she had. Years of his huffs and sighs towards her had picked at her. Years of criticism. All those months of being ignored by Ron for things he had told her she had done wrong, where in hindsight, she’d not. No apology had ever once passed his lips. All those times she had been alone fluttered through her mind. 

Hermione was a strong person, but as she stood there, looking out, she realised that by the time she had reached the showdown at the Hogwarts Battle, she had barely recognised herself. The bare minimum from Ron had her putting him on a pedestal. All he had done was show concern for her safety, and she had forgiven him everything. 

Hermione felt her stomach squirm. Ginny had shown her concern too. Luna had. Neville. Harry. Fleur had been devastated by what Bellatrix had done to her. Every single friend she had, worried for her. She had worried for them. It’s what friends did. 

Even Draco had been genuinely perturbed about what she’d told him about Ron. Even he had shown concern for her at Malfoy Manor. She’d seen his eyes in the Great Hall when Riddle had attacked her. They’d been the eyes of a man living in the middle of his worst nightmare. 

Hermione pulled at the tie around her neck. Ron had shown such little concern for her so many times that any time he did, it was magnified to her. 

She was a muggleborn. She was known as Harry’s good friend to all and sundry. There was a very real possibility that she wasn’t going to live to see twenty years of age. If Death Eaters caught her, then her future was one of being tortured for months, humiliated, raped and then murdered. She shook herself. That hadn't happened.

They were going to change this. Draco was her now. That could be his fate. She was Draco. She felt sick. The Malfoy family were in the same boat she was in. Draco had been condemned to the same fate she had been. They had both been headed to Azkaban. There was no escape for either of them if they didn’t succeed in changing the timeline. 

In the other timeline, Ron had spent the majority of their sixth year ignoring her whilst knowing all along that Hermione was almost as big a target as Harry, and she may only have a year or two left to live. He had wasted precious time with her just to teach her a lesson that he didn’t find her behaviour acceptable to the high standards he demanded of her.

Because she had shared a kiss with her date at a Ball almost two years before. 

He was a pureblood. He was much better protected than she was. A fact he was sure to have known. Percy had managed to go under the radar at the Ministry, even though he was a Weasley. Ginny and Neville had been allowed to go to Hogwarts. All the muggleborns had been banned and were being hunted down in the future. 

Hermione felt her head spin. Her chest began to constrict. She held onto the wall and took some long, deep breaths. She thought again of her boggart. Failure. Was she so obsessed with not failing with Ron that she had allowed herself to fall into this nasty trap? 

Her heart rate began to steady as she pulled herself together. Draco’s words had started a snowball effect in her mind. He had pointed out to her all that she really didn’t want to see. 

Why was she so intent on being with Ron? Why did he have this hold on her? What did he actually have to offer her? He rarely made her feel better about herself. She laughed sometimes at his jokes. She pursed her lips. They were rarely made to her, though. She was normally a spectator when he entertained the others. He had ignored her most of this year. Harry had been with them on the Hunt. They hadn't spent much time alone. He had been supportive at Shell cottage, but they hadn't been there that long. 

They hadn’t actually spent much time together since their fifth year. That had been the last time that Ron had been friendly with her. The Hunt had been odd in hindsight. He’d been trying to be nice to make up for the Lavender era at the start of it, but that hadn’t lasted long. By the time he’d come back, she’d not really spoken to him until they got to Shell cottage. He’d been so nice then. At the Battle, he had shown concern for the Elves. Hermione hadn’t thought before then that he’d given them much thought at all.

Ron hadn’t seen anything wrong with the enslavement bond and had been happy to let the Elves pamper him. Hermione had thought it rather callous at the time. 

After much kerfuffle, Hermione understood now that she’d gone about things the wrong way with the Elves. Her heart had been in the right place though. They did need laws that protected them. She still believed that with all her soul. She remembered Crouch’s Elf Winky and the horrendous aftermath she suffered from being freed. Still, Hermione was still learning about this world. There was a lot of injustice and unfairness amongst the Wizarding community. If Draco could see that, then so must Ron. 

His compassion towards the Elves had galvanised her. She had kissed him then. She thought that was the moment Ron had truly turned into a decent man. 

‘It’s your life, Hermione. It just seems that, perhaps, he was putting on an act. You’ve told me his personality changed completely. That doesn’t just happen.’

She clutched at short blond hair in angst as Draco’s words in her voice sounded in her mind. Had Ron just been acting a part to get her to kiss him? Was she that easy to fool?

He’d said some nice things to her when he was trying to get back into her good books. 

She had gotten more morose as the sixth year had gone by. She’d been so lively before. The older she got, the more she kept her thoughts to herself. On the Horcrux Hunt, she had become more reticent to voice an opinion. She was so used to being interrupted, dismissed or mocked by Ron. She had felt the Horcrux effects herself, but she wasn't jumping down their throats. Harry had been quiet when he wore it, but he had held it together. 

The Horcrux. Hermione frowned. It affected Ron more than them. Somehow. Did it just bring out in Ron what was already there, bubbling under the surface? His true face that he had hidden very well. She had occasionally seen flashes of that side of him growing up. 

She remembered the mean look on his face when he confronted Harry. The locket didn't possess a person. It affected the dark and insecure parts of them. It encouraged the sad and angry parts of you. She'd been affected too, but nowhere near the extent that Ron had been.

Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head on the window. Ron had a lot of anger in him. He hid it very well, but the locket brought it out of him. 

‘Draco,’ came a familiar voice. ‘Are you alright?’ 

Hermione pulled up some inner strength and turned around with a watery smile. 

‘I’m alright, Pans,’ she said softly. She remembered to shorten her name the way Draco had advised her to. ‘I just felt a bit sick. Thanks for checking, though.’ 

Pansy looked a little unsure but gave who she thought was Draco a slight smile. ‘Well, if you get worse and want me to go with you to see Pomfrey, let me know.'

‘I, er, thanks,’ Hermione said as Pansy gave her a small nod and then swept away. 

Hermione felt a numb sensation cover her. Pansy bleeding Parkinson had shown her compassion because she looked a little peaky. A fucking Slytherin showed her fellow snake kindness. The only time Ron had been like that with her was when she was recovering from the Cruciatus Curse. 

Hermione gulped. She'd had to endure torture from Bellatrix LeStrange to elicit any actual sympathy from Ron. 

She made her way to an empty classroom, locked the door, put a Muffliato charm on herself and then screamed. 

Harry sat down next to Draco in Potions. 

‘You alright, Hermione?’ Harry asked a little too casually. 

‘Mm,’ Draco answered, ‘You?’ 

‘Er, yeah,’ Harry said. 

Draco watched as Harry took out his potions book and then glance at him a little defensively. 

Draco recognised the half-blood Prince book. Hermione had explained everything. She told him not to bother Harry about it. She had and it hadn’t solved anything. She had told him to let Harry know to be careful with it. 

Draco understood. Snapes Sectumsempra spell was in there. The spell that had ripped him apart. 

‘Finding anything in there that’s useful?’ Draco asked him. 

Harry peered out of his glasses at him. 

‘Perhaps,’ he said shortly. 

‘Mm,’ Draco said as he pondered him. ‘Well, just make sure you test anything in there before using it. Let me know how you get on. There could be some useful things in there for the future. Anything you think is valuable, show me. We need all the help we can get.’ 

Harry sat there looking at who he thought was Hermione curiously. 

‘Will do,’ Harry said shortly. 

Professor Slughorn came into the room at that time as they stopped talking. 

Draco watched Harry watching Hermione, who he thought was Draco, with suspicion. 

Draco glanced at himself. At first glance, there was no doubting that she was Draco. Hermione leant back with a confident posture with an imperious expression on her face. She was immaculate. Draco had noticed that. She had paid attention to everything about him. 

She casually twirled his wand in her fingers every so often. A habit he had had for years. She mimicked him perfectly. 

As Draco looked a little closer he could see her eyes weren't particularly focused. She was elsewhere. 

He saw her glance for a moment at Ron who was sitting with his arms on the table and his head in his hands and his eyes half shut. 

Draco saw the tiny frown pass her face at that before returning to normal. 

He’d thought long and hard about their talk the night before. He had no regrets. She had needed to hear the cold, hard truth. She certainly wasn’t getting that from anyone else at Hogwarts. Ginny was in an awkward position, but at least Hermione had someone to listen to some of it. He doubted she had spoken to her parents about any of this. Hermione had been aware on some level that the situation between her and Ron wasn’t normal.

Draco avoided looking at Ron. He'd taken a visceral dislike to him years ago and knowing now how he actually treated his friends, that dislike had only increased. Crabbe and Goyle had turned on him in the end. True, they had been part friends, part bodyguards, but he thought there had been some sort of loyalty there. Draco knew how much that burnt when a friend turned on you. 

Ron was much smarter than his two henchmen. Draco mused about that. Ron gave the illusion of being a happy go lucky bloke, but Draco now knew for certain that was just a front. It was strange how things always seemed to work out for him when he rarely put the work in. He was adamant he was over sensitive because he was insecure. 

‘Poor little Won Won,’ Draco thought bitterly. So sensitive, so meek. His terrible insecurities made him so vulnerable. Yet he was so acerbic to everyone else. Draco had heard him over the years putting girls down for their looks. A woman who wasn’t attractive was labelled a troll. Sometimes within earshot. 

He’d ruined Padma’s Yule ball too. He hadn’t even noticed or cared. Lavender hadn’t actually done anything wrong. She'd made it crystal clear from the start what she was all about. There had been no pretence there.

Ron had led her up the garden path and hadn’t even had the decency to man up and finish the relationship with any dignity. 

Draco sighed. He’d been a prick in his younger days as well, but he’d never painted himself as the good guy. There was no act. He wasn’t the hero. He was a proud man who didn’t like to admit to any weakness. He wasn’t weak. He was conflicted. But he wasn’t a man who blamed people not responsible for his actions. His family had influenced him as they had been influenced by their parents. Draco accepted his flaws. He had a mean side. He was often unsympathetic to others. He was self-involved. His upbringing had been one of wealth and luxury. His saving grace was that he also knew you could only push so far. He had somehow retained his humanity through all the trauma. He despised Tom and his followers. They were charlatans. They didn’t want to work at things. They just wanted to take them by force from those that had. 

Draco was a hard worker. He was born into privilege, but he also knew it took a great deal of work to hold onto it. 

His family was so deep in all of this. Whoever won this war, his family's wealth was at risk either way. Tom could bankrupt his family by the end of it. The light side could take the Manor for reparations. Draco knew this could happen. He could start over if that happened. If all he had was the clothes on his back at the end of all this, then he would rise again. He was a Malfoy. 

Hermione was also a hard worker. Ron had made Hermione feel like she was a burden. Draco scoffed at that. He thought of all those wasted hours Hermione had spent helping Ron. Hours she should have been spending on herself. Draco flinched. Without all her free time spent supporting Ron, how much further would she have gone in class? 

Draco was ambitious. It was a quality he admired in others. He didn’t like to see anyone being stifled. Ron had used her for years. His sense of entitlement to that help had been obvious. From what Hermione had said, he had given her a few throwaway comments over the years that she was smart. Any of her other friends would have done the same. Why did Hermione value his word so much more than all the others?

Ron had been jealous of Harry and Hermione’s friendship. Harry was a tricky one though. Harry had shown Hermione affection. Ron hadn’t liked that. He didn’t want Hermione to have affection from any man. Even from someone she considered a brother. Most of the time Ron rarely showed her any himself. He wanted her completely ostracised so she’d accept the dregs from himself gratefully. 

He had wanted the Harry and Hermione hugs to stop, even though he knew they brought them both a great deal of comfort. Hermione had told him that Ginny had never been bothered by them. Ginny understood the nature of their friendship and trusted them both. He’d never seen Ron instigate a hug with Hermione. So Ron had thrown an almighty scene to force them to stop. 

Neither Harry nor Hermione had any brothers or sisters. Neither did he. His mother would have loved to have more children, but she’d had difficulties after he had been born. It was one of the reasons she had doted on him so much. Pansy was a sort of surrogate sister to him. Harry and Hermione had filled that void with each other. 

Draco scowled at that. Ron had five brothers and a sister. He wanted to deprive Harry and Hermione of even having one to call their own. 

How did Hermione not see this? She was smart. How did Harry not see this? Draco had questioned some of Harry's actions in the past, but even he knew Harry had a lot of sense. 

Draco looked again at Ron who was gazing at Slughorn in a bored way as he doodled on his parchment. 

Draco sighed to himself as he recollected his father. That was why. A person who is continuously in your life influenced you immensely. Not always in the right way. 

His father had tried to mould him into someone he wasn’t from a young age. Draco would harbour resentment to him for a long time for that. Still, his father hadn’t believed Tom was going to return. Draco had seen the worry on his fathers face after Tom had come back. His father was older and wiser than he had been. Tom meant nothing but trouble for the Wizarding World. Even his parents knew that. Lucius had cultivated a good life for himself in the interim of Tom’s disappearance, and Tom had ruined that for him. 

At least Draco was free of all that now. He had made his own mind up in the future about who he actually was. He wasn’t one of Tom’s men. He knew that for certain. 

Draco focused his eyes on Slughorn who was listing the ingredients for a potion Draco could mix in his sleep. 

Ron had always been around Harry. He turned up the charm with Harry. Until he didn’t. He was always laughing and making jokes with Harry to keep him sweet. Harry equated Ron with the good times. They’d mess about on brooms together. Ron's family had given Harry a sense of belonging. Hermione had been vague, but Draco understood now that Harry's home life hadn't been good. Ron was supportive of Harry and his nightmares. 

Ron had upset Hermione on numerous occasions, hoping for a reaction. Hermione, who was actually a human being with emotions, reacted as expected to being disregarded. 

What was becoming very clear to Draco was that Hermione lacked people skills. 

For all the benefits her single-minded approach to life had given her, it had also led to unintended problems. Her inability to truly understand Ron suggested her emotional intelligence was far lower than her mental intelligence. He recalled her inability to name people. Her fixed approach to life and her coping methods of separating much in her life that she didn't deem relevant. Draco glanced at her across the room. She was very good at playing him. 

No one would have guessed. She mimicked him brilliantly. She was playing the part of Draco that she had observed over time. Draco was a rather cold character. It was easy for Hermione to emulate that. What if she had to have played Lavender? Draco pondered this. Lavender was highly emotional. Hermione, when she did lose her temper, was shrill and angry. It always followed the same pattern. She was unable to articulate truly what she was feeling moderately. 

Draco mused. She actually didn’t quite know how to deal with Ron maturely, and he, in turn, kept pushing her. Draco had to keep his emotions separate growing up. He'd had to push a lot down. With the constant threat of Tom, he could understand on some level what Hermione had done to keep herself functioning under such stressful conditions. It wasn't helping her in the long run.  

Draco had his lightbulb moment. Hermione didn’t actually understand this situation fully on an emotional level. Life was very black and white to her. Her world operated on a good and bad principle. She was too logical. Ron was fighting against Tom and Death Eaters. In her mind, that made him good. She had put him in the good box in her mind. She saw him on such a basic level she couldn’t see what else was happening. She had seemed shocked at what he was saying to her about Ron. She had been in denial about so much of it. 

Draco thought back to her shrillness, her annoyance with so many situations and her nagging. Mainly brought on by Ron. Draco was beginning to understand Hermione’s character traits. 

She was a perfectionist. That had been apparent by the end of their first week at Hogwarts. Ron was a slacker. They were bound to clash. These were character traits that neither of them had shown any signs of wanting to change. That was the main problem. They had both tried to change each other, and that had been futile. It was doomed before it started. Draco couldn’t for the life of him see how a marriage between them had any chance of success. 

Why, then, did they both persist with this bizarre relationship? Draco glanced at Lavender. Pretty, overly emotional Lavender, who thought Ron was simply brilliant. 

Sure, Lavender had got too clingy. Draco could understand why Ron had wanted to move on from that, but on a simple level, Lavender was far better suited to Ron than Hermione. So why did Ron persist with her?

Draco watched Harry scratch his head. Ron was jealous of Harry. That was a fact the Horcrux had revealed. Was he that jealous of Harry that he wanted to take Hermione from him? There seemed to be a lot of negative emotions at play here from Ron. It all seemed to revolve around his insecurities and his needs. There didn't seem to be much positivity coming from Ron towards Hermione.

Considering how much they featured in each other's lives, Ron didn't actually seem remotely concerned by how his behaviour had affected her in their odd history with each other. He had frozen her out twice already for months at a time. He had deserted her when she most needed him. It was all very much about how he was affected by the fluctuations in their relationship. He simply expected Hermione to pick up from where they left off frequently. 

Draco mused at this. If they were to be married, how soon before he walked out when the going got tough? It appeared he already had a pattern. 

He was starting to understand that Hermione hadn't made sense of it. Draco had to admit it was confusing to him. She couldn't make sense of it because there was no sense to Ron's behaviour. Ron blew hot and cold all the time with her. Draco sighed. She might not like it, but perhaps this body swap was the best thing to have happened to Hermione in a long time. That was assuming they changed back. Some actual time to sort things out in her own mind might save her from making a big mistake with Ron. 

Ron stretched his arms out, almost knocking Neville off his chair, as Draco then watched him ignore Neville’s annoyance and then give a big yawn. 

Draco felt a wave of fatigue pass his face at this as he then turned back to Slughorn, who was finishing the list. He saw Harry looking at him out of the corner of his eye. 

‘You sure you’re alright?’ Harry asked him in a curious tone. 

‘Oh, yes. Still getting over that headache,’ Draco said in a smooth voice. 

This seemed to placate Harry as they separated to get to work on their potions. 

Towards the end of the lesson, when they were just packing up, Dumbledore made a surprise appearance. Harry stepped forward as Albus shook his head. 

‘I am here to speak to Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy,’ he told the room. 'Please, can you both pack your bags and come with me.'  

This certainly caused more than a few whispers. Hermione put an appropriately sulky expression on her face as she sneered at Draco. He, in turn, made sure he looked appropriately inquisitive at this unusual request. 

They both packed their bags up and followed the Headmaster out of the room as a dozen curious eyes followed them. 

Harry watched them leave with his thoughts going haywire. Something was different to how it should be. Something had changed. He didn't know how he knew this. He felt it in his blood.  It felt like a deja vu of sorts. 

Harry shook his head clear. He had a lot on his mind. He was suspicious of everything right now. He breathed out and calmed himself. His paranoia was off the scale right now. He'd be thinking Luna was up to no good if he didn't get his mind straight. 

Chapter Text

‘Dumbledore’s done what?’ Harry asked in a disbelieving tone. 

‘He has asked me to assist Malfoy in a Muggleborn Appreciation Project,’ Draco told Harry with a slight twitch to his lips. 

Harry’s shocked expression was hilarious to witness. They sat a little further apart from the others for lunch. Harry had asked the moment Draco sat down what Dumbledore had wanted to see them for. 

‘You and Malfoy?’ Harry enquired again. 

‘Yes. He wants to try and rehabilitate Malfoy and make him see the Wizarding World from another angle. He thinks that Malfoy has been too heavily influenced to look at muggleborns negatively. Dumbledore wants him to have some positive influence in his life, and he has asked me to help. Dumbledore had promised me lots of extra credit. It shall look very good on my accomplishments in the Hogwarts section in my school biography,’ Draco said as he struggled to keep the smile off his face. 

Harry’s mouth was actually open wide in astonishment.

‘You and him. Working together?’ Harry asked for clarification. 

‘Yes. Think of all that credit, Harry. Oh, Dumbledore spoke of how it would look on my interpersonal skills to prospective employers. I, one Hermione Granger, worked successfully on a project with Malfoy. If I can do this, I can do anything.’ 

Harry made an odd sort of strangled noise. 

‘Look. I know you’re ambitious, but isn’t this pushing things a little too far?’ Harry asked. 

‘I’m a strong woman,’ Draco said with confidence. ‘I can handle Malfoy.’ 

‘I’m sure you can,’ Harry murmured. ‘But still. Do you actually want to?’ 

‘I like to push myself,’ Draco said in an earnest tone. ‘I want to be the best I can be. On my steady climb to the top of that slippery career ladder, I shall be dealing with many Malfoy’s. I shall consider this vital training in preparation.’ 

Draco looked at Harry’s bewildered face and pushed down a snigger. 

‘I suppose,’ Harry said in a lost sort of tone. 

‘Dumbledore was most insistent,’ Draco added. 

‘What did Malfoy have to say about it? Harry asked with a curious tone. 

‘He was livid. It was hilarious,’ Draco deadpanned. ‘I’m sure he’ll cope. Anyway, once Dumbledore appealed to his more Slytherin nature and told him it was always best to at least be able to act civil to his contemporaries, and this would teach him how he relented.’ 

Harry gawped. 

‘Plus, Dumbledore threatened him with ten detentions with Filch if he didn’t show willing to change his views on muggleborns.’ 

Harry nodded slightly at that.

‘I’m actually looking forward to it,’ Draco imitated what Hermione would be likely to say in this situation. 

‘You are?’ Harry asked with uncertainty. 

‘Mm,’ Draco murmured. ‘Dumbledore has also given us access to his personal library to help with research. You wouldn’t believe how many famous muggleborns there are. Morgan le Fay. Merlin. That’s just for starters. Oh, I can’t wait to get started. Dumbledore said if the project is successful, he’ll see if we can get it published. Imagine a book written by me, oh, and Malfoy, selling in Flourish and Blotts. How inspiring. I could do a book signing session.’ 

Harry watched Hermione smile brightly in anticipation. 

‘Ok. Right. Well, keep an eye on Malfoy,’ Harry warned. 

‘Oh, I intend to. Dumbledore said any shenanigans from him, I have permission to give him a detention scrubbing chamber pots.’ 

Harry beamed at that. ‘How lovely.’ 

‘Isn’t it?’ Draco smirked. ‘Although, I think Malfoy understands that this could reflect well on him in the future. I don't anticipate any major issues.’

Harry nodded as he looked more closely at Hermione. Her haircut had done wonders for her. Her eyes looked larger and much more striking than they had done. He truly looked at her for the first time in a long time. The new cut framed her face much better and showed off her features in a much more flattering way than her old hair had done. 

Harry tilted his head in contemplation. He knew she could look nice when she made an effort, but looking at her now, she looked rather attractive.

She also seemed a lot less uptight. He supposed she was growing up. In the last few days, he’d seen her walk away from a row with Ron twice. To say he was relieved by this unexpected development was an understatement. 

The rows had always made Harry uncomfortable, and they had been getting worse. Hermione seemed to have finally found a good way to deal with them now. She was just walking away. There was no point rowing with Ron. It had never got her anywhere with him. 

Harry had enough on his plate without having to put up with that unpleasantness. Ron hadn’t commented so far, but Harry had seen his questioning look in potions at her. 

Harry was happy Hermione had not risen to the bait. They were his two best friends, and it had aggravated him more than he could say when they fought. In the third year, he had learnt his lesson not to ever turn his back on Hermione again. Crookshanks had been after Pettigrew, not Scabbers. Hermione had told them he was a smart cat. He should have listened to her. She'd only told Professor McGonagall about the broom Sirius had given him because she thought it might have been sabotaged, and she was worried about him. He regretted it. 

He had missed her during that time. She was a steady presence in his life, and she truly wanted what was best for him. 

She seemed more relaxed since she’d got her hair cut. He supposed it had improved her confidence. His emerald eyes really looked at her then as she sipped on a cup of tea. 

If he had one teensy weensy little dislike of Hermione's personality, it was how serious she could sometimes be. He understood why and he never judged her for it. Like him, she was a target. It was pressing darkness in both their lives, and Harry knew from experience how hard it was to shake sometimes. The clock was ticking down to the inevitable war they both knew was coming for them all. Sometimes, she was too focused because of it, which didn't help if he was feeling down.  

Ron knew how to let go and have fun, and Harry needed that in his life from time to time. 

Still, as he watched her brown eyes crinkle up as she told him about the Muggleborn Appreciation Project with a strange mirth in her eyes, he felt a strong pull toward her. This was Hermione at her best. When she was talking about something that interested her, she truly came alive. 

He hadn’t seen her have much fun, what with all the antics at Hogwarts. He’d seen her let go at the Yule Ball. Before the Ron incident. Merlin, Ron had been in spectacularly bad form that night. It had been nice for Harry to witness that more playful side of her before it had all come crashing down. Sometimes, she could be so grave when she was in one of her moods. 

Harry watched her as she told him her plans for the Project. Research. Interviews. Photographs. He smiled at her with genuine happiness. It looked like she had it all planned out. 

Draco was actually enjoying himself. It was incredibly intriguing for him to be able to talk like this with Harry. It was really rather a novelty for him to be able to just talk to anyone about light things. 

His life in the last two years had been beyond dark. In a way, being Hermione was turning into a very weird but nice time for him. He wasn't Draco Malfoy. It was strangely liberating not to be him, even if it was under such unique circumstances.

It was a relief being able actually to talk to Hermione. She was very much out of her comfort zone right now, but he was warming to her. He was actually starting to understand who she was as a person. She clearly had several ongoing issues, but underneath all of that was a decent person. He felt she was starting to see him for who he actually was too. Not perfect, but not the moron she had thought he was for years. 

They might both be experiencing the most bizarre thing they ever would in their lives, but they at least had each other. 

Draco was now ordered to be a temporary friend of Harry. He knew how much Harry relied on her, and he wanted to support him. It was vital Harry fulfilled the Prophecy and if Draco could assist him in any way, he would. 

Draco was looking at this as a sort of trade. He was dumping Ron on her behalf. That was absolute. There was no way he was going to encourage that chaos. The era of Ron was officially suspended. He wouldn’t look for trouble. He’d promised Hermione that, but he was slamming the brakes on anything else. 

Hermione could make it up with him after if she wanted, but Draco was done with him. He'd heard enough. To make it up to her, he would act the part of a good friend to Harry to the hilt. 

He wasn’t finding this difficult in the slightest. Harry was a lot easier to speak to than he had predicted. Harry not snarling at him or shouting insults made for a stark contrast. The penny dropped for Draco just how much Harry must dislike him. This Harry was like a different person from the one he was used to. 

Draco was making sure he kept in character, but in a more upbeat Hermione style. He had seen her smirk when Dumbledore had officially assigned them the Project. He knew she was finding this particular assignment amusing for certain, so he thought it wise to mirror that. 

Muggleborn Appreciation. She had given him a grin that he had returned. It was a great cover for them. 

In public, Hermione would act stroppy about it. He would act suitably smug. 

Dumbledore had shown them the now harmless Hufflepuff cup and the Diadem at their small meeting earlier that day. Hermione had picked them both up with reverence. 

‘Your memories were very useful, Miss Granger,’ Albus had murmured. 

Draco had looked at the objects with a steady gaze. 

They represented Tom getting weaker. Draco felt a tingle. They were taking Tom apart, bit by bit. 

Each Horcrux destroyed was one step closer to his family surviving this. He glanced across to himself. It meant both Harry and Hermione were more likely to survive. He felt a warm glow at that. 

‘I could have helped,’ Hermione said. 

‘You already have, Miss Granger. You have given above and beyond. I shall need both of your help later. For now, enjoy your strange respite. I have seen what you have both endured. Some relaxation is much needed for both of you. Gather your strength, both of you, for the coming days.’ 

They had both nodded at this. They knew they had a lot of work ahead, but Albus seemed to be setting a calm pace. 

‘Has Severus spoken to you yet, Hermione?’ Albus asked. 

‘Not yet.’ 

‘When he does, tell him about the cabinets. Let him know you will tell him when the invasion is planned for. That's if it has to go ahead,’ Albus said shortly. ‘Show him trust. It will give him some peace of mind.’ 

Hermione nodded her agreement as Draco looked on. 

‘Does he know about us?’ Draco asked. 

‘For now, only the three of us know. I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible. I want to keep as firm a grip on the original timeline as possible until I have a clearer idea of this new future. In time, he may be told if I think it necessary.’ 

Draco and Hermione understood how delicate all this was and why Dumbledore was being so cautious. 

Draco looked across at Harry, who was peering at Draco with a small grin. 

‘I can’t believe Dumbledore is doing this to Draco. It’s so perfect,’ Harry said with a pleased expression.  

Draco gave him a rueful smile. He knew he deserved this gloating. He’d been such a vile snob for years. It was nice to see Harry smiling for a change. 

‘Well, believe it. Draco and I will be spending some time together.’ 

Harry leant forward.

‘Right, keep your eyes open to any sort of activity. You know why,’ he whispered as he looked around. 

Draco did know. Harry had been right to be suspicious. Hermione had admitted she had doubted Harry at the time he had been obsessed with Draco in their sixth year. She still felt bad for it. 

Harry stared at who he thought was Hermione, ‘Look, I know you don’t really think he’s up to something, but I do. It would mean a lot to me if you were with me on this.’ 

‘I’ll let you know if I see anything, but, you know, Malfoy is smart,’ he couldn’t resist. ‘He’ll be on his best behaviour around me.’ 

Harry looked a little perturbed by that. 

‘Well, he’s not going to be leaving his secret dark plot book out in front of me, Harry,’ Draco said in a huff as he mimicked Hermione. 

Harry’s mouth twitched. 

‘I promise you. If I think he’s a danger to anyone in the Castle, you’ll be the first person I tell,’ Draco told Harry in a more sincere tone. 

‘Do you believe me then?’ Harry asked very quietly. 

I do believe there is something very wrong with him,’ he said honestly. ‘His father botched that Mission at the Ministry. He got himself caught. Tom doesn’t seem the sort to just let that go. He might be taking his anger out on Draco.’ 

Harry’s emerald eyes widened. ‘What are you thinking?’ 

Draco shrugged. ‘I don’t think the Malfoys are in his good books, that’s all. That might have something to do with how Draco’s been behaving.’ 

This was the truth. 

Harry nodded earnestly. 

Draco was genuinely surprised by just how intent Harry was with this. 

‘I think you’re right,’ Harry said quietly. ‘I, er, thanks for taking this seriously. I know you think he’s too young to get involved with this, but, you know, something has changed with him.’ 

‘In what way?’ Draco asked. He was curious to hear Harry’s actual opinion of him that wasn’t a slur being shouted across a Quidditch pitch. 

Whatever Draco expected Harry to say, it wasn’t the following line. 

‘Just between you and me, he’s lost his mojo,’ Harry said glumly. 

Draco’s eyebrows raised. 

‘He seems so miserable now. Cold. How he was with me on the train wasn’t Draco. I didn’t recognise him. He’s always been a prick, but he always did it with some flair. I’ve never before been genuinely bothered by him. Well, bothered is the wrong word. He’s wound me up many times, but I just thought he wasn’t really one of them when push came to shove. That he just had a big gob and talked crap. I never thought he was actually evil. I don’t know what to think now. Something is going on with him, and I don't reckon it's just to do with his father being in Azkaban. I want you to be careful.’ 

Draco gazed at Harry with genuine surprise. This body swap was becoming more and more enlightening every day that went by. Harry knew him better than he had realised. 

Draco felt his throat go dry. ‘I, er. Right. I will be. I’ll keep an eye on him. He won’t try anything. Dumbledore’s keeping a close eye on us.’

‘Thanks, Hermione,’ Harry said warmly. ‘I do love your new hair by the way. It really suits you. Don’t let Ron get to you. I know that’s easier said than done, but it’s just the way he is. He does care about you. He just says stupid things sometimes.’ 

Draco gave him a wry smile. ‘Thanks. Don’t worry about Ron. He’s not going to change. I’ve accepted that. It’s Ron just being Ron. You and I have more important things to worry about than if he likes my haircut or not, and quite frankly, I want to save my energy for more important things.’ 

Harry gave a start at that statement. 

‘Er, are you sure you’re alright with him?’ Harry asked in a tentative voice. 

Draco sighed. ‘As I said, we have more important things to worry about than the Ron and Hermione soap opera. It belongs in the past. We’re almost adults. We’re not kids anymore, and I don’t want to behave like one. Hopefully, he’ll join me,’ Draco doubted that very much. ‘If he still wants to bicker and argue, he can find another girl to do that with. I’m done.’ 

Harry’s face brightened for a moment, and then he forced his face into a more sombre one. 

‘I suppose it’s best we focus on what’s coming,’ Harry said. 

Draco gave him a supportive smile as he noted the sheer relief on Harry’s face at that moment. He’d been right. Harry had had a gutful of the bickering too. 

Draco watched Harry’s eyes linger a bit too long on his face, and then he watched them darken slightly as emerald eyes made their way to his lips. Hermione's lips. He watched as Harry seemed to give a small jolt. 

‘Er,’ Harry said with an unnatural pause. 

Draco stared back as Harry looked behind him. ‘Oh, look. There’s Luna. Shall I ask her to join us?’ 

Draco gave a stilted nod as Harry waved Luna over. Something had just happened then. 

‘Hi, Hermione. Hi, Harry,’ Luna said in that airy way she had as she sat down. 

Draco smiled at Luna and took a moment to acknowledge her rather lovely blonde that wasn’t much darker than his own platinum. He did miss his blond locks. 

He adopted Hermione's slightly distant persona with Luna and finished his meal. He listened to Harry and Luna chat about Thestrals. One of them had just had a baby Thestral.  

Luna was delightful. He remembered when she was a prisoner at Malfoy Manor and felt a chill. With a lot of luck, they would stop Tom before that happened to her. 

He glanced at Harry, who had a soft expression on his face as Luna told him about the baby thestral. Draco understood why Harry liked her so much. Luna was otherworldly in a good way. 

Draco looked at Luna as she spoke in an animated way to Harry. Her time at Malfoy Manor had changed her. She’d lost that innocence she had here. 

She was one of thousands who’d never be able to get back to being the people they had been. The war had damaged all of them. 

Draco watched Harry for a long moment. The war was already underway, but hopefully, they could stop it before it hit the nadir it had done this time around. 

Dumbledore had information now that he didn’t have. Whether he used that for the Order of the Phoenix to be more effective at preventing more harm, Draco didn’t know. It was possible. Still, he understood how timelines worked and why he might be reluctant to interfere too much. The smallest change could have a ripple effect. 

He took a sip of tea and glanced again at Harry. All it had taken was one good haircut, a lighter attitude and an announcement that Hermione had had quite enough of Ron, and Harry had looked at her, at him, very differently. 

Draco knew that look Harry had given him. It wasn’t the look platonic friends gave to each other. 

That Harry had acted oddly after made Draco suspect Harry was well aware of that. 

Draco lowered his eyes. He needed to be more careful. Hermione had told him she only saw Harry as a friend. She had told him how good Ginny and Harry were for each other. They were to get together later in the timeline.

The practical consequences were clear to him too. If Harry switched his crush to Hermione instead of Ginny, that could cause a massive butterfly effect. Plus, as Draco knew, it would mean many discomforts for himself. 

It would be wrong on so many levels. They couldn’t tell Harry the truth. Draco grimaced. If it got out of hand, they might have to, which would put their whole plan into jeopardy. 

Draco glanced across to the Slytherin table. He saw himself sitting in his usual spot next to Blaise. His eyes drifted across to Pansy. He stopped short. Instead of giving him the typical annoyed look she had done in the original timeline, Pansy was looking at him with an odd expression. It took a moment to realise what it was. It was curiosity. 

Draco felt nervous all of a sudden. 

He’d need to discuss this with Hermione later. Somehow, they were already changing things. 

Draco did the only thing he could think of to revert back into character, ‘Right. I’m going to the library to study and prepare for my new Project,’ he said as he stood and swept away. 

Luna and Harry looked a little surprised at this swift exit but gave him a gentle wave of goodbye. Draco couldn’t help but notice how Harry’s eyes watched him more closely than they had done. 

'Bugger,' Draco thought.

He hadn’t foreseen this little issue. 

‘What do you mean, Harry looked at me differently?’ Hermione asked much later that day when Draco finally managed to broach the conversation privately in the Room of Requirement bedroom.

‘He gave me the look. You know? The look,’ Draco said with a meaningful expression. 

Hermione blinked in confusion. 

‘Can you talk me through it?’ Hermione asked in a perplexed manner. 

Draco did. He reiterated word for word what had happened in the Great Hall. 

‘Then his eyes darkened when he looked at me. At you. He looked at my lips. Then he went a little nervous and changed the subject. He, er, he was checking me, er, you out when I left the Great Hall.’ 

Hermione was gawking at him. 

‘Look, Hermione. I know he’s the Boy who Lived and the Chosen one and all that, but he’s also a teenager. This haircut has done wonders for you. Trust me on that. I was simply being supportive of him like you are. I told him I was done arguing with Ron. Then that happened.’ 

‘I can’t believe that Harry would ever be interested in me like that,’ Hermione said in a vacant tone. 

‘Well, I reckon he is. I know that look. I’ve given that look. I’ve also been on the receiving end of that look. Hermione. He’s warm for your form.’ 

Hermione gave him an astonished look.

‘My god. He fancies you. What the hell did you say to him?’ 

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I told you what I said to him. I kept it light because I know you find this project enjoyable, but I kept in character.’ 

Hermione took this on board as she mused about this turn of events. 

‘He can’t start fancying me just because of a bloody haircut.’ 

‘Never underestimate the power of good hair, Hermione,’ Draco said with passion. 

‘This can’t happen. I mean it, Draco. You put him off any way you know how. Tell him I'm gay if you have to. I mean it. You slam those brakes on hard. If you don’t, Harry and Ginny will fucking kill me when we change back, and they find out the truth.’  

‘Harry and Ginny don’t know they end up together.'

'That's not the point. They'll both hit the roof when they realise you've been me and Harry was flirting with you,’ Hermione retorted. ‘I mean it. Don’t ruin this for them. Ginny understands Harry. She gets his mood swings. She can handle his brooding side. She’s more than capable of handling him when he goes off the deep end. They play Quidditch together. They make each other laugh. He has fun with her.’ 

‘Really? Harry gets that moody sometimes?’ Draco asked with interest. 

Hermione nodded fiercely. ‘Yes. He’s gone through a lot. That sodding connection to Tom hasn't helped. If and when that bastard is defeated, the first thing I’m doing is taking Harry to see a therapist.’ 

‘Is that why you and Harry are just friends, and you’re actually more than happy with that?’ 

Hermione narrowed her eyes as Draco gazed at her. She didn’t respond to that. 

‘So, if Harry was just a normal, regular wizard, would you be interested in him?’ Draco asked. 

‘Harry is who he is. What he’s gone through has made him who he is, and I love Harry. All of him.’ 

Draco lifted an eyebrow.

‘I didn’t ask that. If Harry was just Harry without all the crazy stuff that happens to him and messes with his mind, would you be interested in him?’ 

‘Possibly,’ she admitted. 

Draco gave her a small smile.

‘I knew it. I knew on some level there was a bit more going on there. People choose their friends because of character traits they're attracted to on some level.’ 

Hermione gave him a rueful look. ‘I love his eyes, and he’s very loyal and sweet to me. This war has changed both of us. We’re too tough. Both of us are. I know that. If things were different then maybe, but it is what it is. After everything he’s gone through, Harry needs Ginny. They understand each other.’ 

Draco appraised her with interest. ‘That’s how I know you really love him. You want what’s best for him.’ 

‘Of course I love him. I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve saved each other. He wants me to be happy, too.’ 

‘Have you two ever talked about Ron?’ Properly, I mean?’ 

‘Not properly.’ 

Draco frowned. ‘What do you think he actually thought in the future of you two being together?’ 

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again.

‘I don’t actually know what Harry thinks about it. We had other things going on.’ 

Draco thought that rather odd.

‘I mean, you’ve never once discussed it with each other?’ 

‘I think he found it awkward to discuss with me. I know I did.'

‘Well, yeah. I’d be reluctant to talk about it if I was him, but still. Not once?’ 

Hermione shook her head. 

Draco wondered about that. He supposed Harry was in the prat position whatever he said to either of them. The roller coaster ride that was Ron and Hermione had many ups and downs. If Harry said anything positive or negative, it could backfire on him in the future, depending on whether it was a good phase or a bad phase. It was probably wise of Harry to keep his mouth shut. 

Hermione was scratching her head. ‘Don’t encourage anything with Harry. I know you’re a man, and you may find it humorous to do that, but just don’t do or say anything to him to make him think I'm interested.' 

‘Relax, Hermione. Even if Harry has a little crush on you, on me, nothing will happen. I’m straight. I wouldn't mess with Harry like that anyway. It's not sporting. He might not do anything at this stage because of the Ron factor. I know there's the whole Lavender fiasco to go through, but even so. Harry must be aware by now on some level you two dating would cause problems with Ron. You're his friend, too. Harry might not push you for that reason. He may think it would ruin your friendship.’ 

Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief at this sound reasoning. She froze as her mind fully caught up. 

‘What?’ Draco asked. 

‘Are you actually sure about that now? Being straight?’ Hermione asked quietly. 

Draco rolled his eyes.

‘How many more times? A man can take care of his appearance and not be gay. It’s not mutually exclusive.’ 

‘I don’t mean that.'

Draco frowned.

‘It’s just. I’m straight too,’ Hermione told him. 

Draco looked at her with a confused expression. 

Hermione blushed bright red.

‘I mean, physically. My body is straight, and you're currently in my body,’ she whispered. 

‘I see. But we still have our own minds and souls. As far as you’re concerned, I'm in your body now. I like women, so your body is gay now. It’s mind over matter, isn’t it?’ 

Hermione lifted her fingers to her temples and rubbed both sides hard. 

‘It’s just, Draco. That sort of thing is all connected, isn’t it? Our body and mind link up,’ she said quietly. 

Draco gave her a lingering look. ‘As far as we’re both concerned, we’re officially both asexual until further notice. Whatever we feel in that way stays with us.’ 

‘Have you had any unusual thoughts since we swapped?’ she asked him quietly. 

‘Many of my thoughts have been unusual. I am now a woman when last week I was a man. I'd be more surprised if I was thinking clearly. I am literally taking every minute as it comes.’ 

‘I mean,’ Hermione lowered her voice dramatically. ‘Have you had any, er, thoughts related to, er, that?’ 

Draco sighed. ‘You mean sex, Hermione. Why are you like this? You can discuss Horcruxes and Dark Magic without breaking a sweat, but anything related to kissing, and you can't even say it out loud.’ 

‘Can you just answer the question, please?’ 

‘No, actually. Strangely, that has been the furthest thing from my mind. You?’

‘I, er, nothing.'

Her face was still scarlet. 

‘Is that unusual for you?’ he asked. 

Draco looked at Hermione's stricken face with alarm. She wasn't making a sound. 

‘Hermione. Please relax. I have actually lived in the real world occasionally.  I don’t think you’re a nun. You can talk to me; you do know that, don’t you? I’m not going to make fun of you. We’re going through the same things. We’re the only ones we can talk to about this.’ 

Hermione looked anywhere but at him.

‘I, er, that’s the thing. Since we swapped, I haven’t thought consciously of anything like that, but I've had some strange dreams.’

She didn't embellish on that and Draco didn't push.  

‘It’s probably stress causing that. Our hormone levels must be all over the place,’ Draco said. ‘Once we settle in a bit, that will probably go back to normal.’  

‘Let’s hope so,’ she murmured. 

‘Anyway, we’ve discussed this. We’re not getting involved with anyone until this is over,’ Draco said in a comforting tone. 

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded in earnest.

‘That’s right. This is all going to go back to normal in time.’ 

‘At most, we may be bisexual until we change back, and as we’re not going to be acting on that, it doesn’t matter. Try and put it out of your mind for now. We have bigger things to focus on.’ 

Hermione pulled herself together and patted his arm to thank him for his calm advice. 

‘So,’ Draco asked with renewed interest. ‘What other guys do you like at Hogwarts?’ 

‘I am not having locker room chat with you, Draco.’ 

Draco grinned.

‘It was worth a shot.’ 

She rolled her eyes, but her lips were curling up into a smile. 

'How are you getting on with Pansy?' Draco asked. 'She wasn't looking at you with animosity today.' 

'I was feeling a bit overwhelmed earlier. She asked me if I was alright. I said I just felt a bit sick but that I'd be ok. She offered to walk me to the nurse if I felt any worse. I said thanks, and she left. That was all.'

'That was all?' 

Hermione nodded. 

Draco shrugged to himself. He couldn't see why that would make Pansy curious.

He left that on the back burner for now. 

Chapter Text

The days began to pass.

Katie Bell would never know how close she came to being cursed. Madam Rosmerta had just another busy day bustling about the Three Broomsticks and was none the wiser of the timeline divergence. 

Draco felt much lighter in himself. This second chance he had been given was having a positive effect on him. 

He was polite but distant with Ron. Any attempt by the redhead to engage him in some bickering was met with a swift exit to the library to work on the project. 

Ron seemed a little confused by this unusual behaviour of Hermione's. 

Hermione was playing him to perfection. She had that whole aloof, arrogant air he was notorious for. She spoke to Blaise occasionally. Pansy was still a little distant but was actually sitting closer, and Hermione kept up being polite to her. Crabbe and Goyle were both kept at arm’s length. Hermione would assume an aggressive stance with both of them. 

Draco and Hermione were actually working rather diligently on the Muggleborn Project. 

They had a little corner in the library that had a dozen Muffliato charms up. They kept the act up as inquisitive students loitered around on the first day to watch this unusual sight. Once boredom set in from watching Draco sit there sullenly and Hermione appear to be lecturing him, they all eventually left. 

They kept up with the project. They wanted something to show if anyone became suspicious, and Hermione was genuinely keen to see if they could get it published. She had read through the reading list of books in circulation, and there wasn’t one specifically devoted to notable muggleborns in their world. Hermione was in her element with this and had scoured dozens of books already to retrieve historical information. 

They would evolve into contemporary muggleborns later. 

She had already devoted several pages to Lily Potter and was already working on Merlin. Draco had read with great interest about the famous wizard. 

He had shaken his head, ‘They always glossed over this sort of thing.’ 

Hermione had patiently sat with him as his eyes looked over the parchment at all Merlin’s achievements. 

‘I’m going to write a piece about the challenges I’ve found in this world,’ she told Draco, who nodded his agreement. 

‘What about you?’ Hermione asked him. 

‘I, er, I can’t write the truth,’ Draco stuttered. ‘Not yet, at least.’ 

‘I know that, but how about a piece explaining the things you were taught growing up? How you were taught you were better because of your blood status and the effect that had on you when you realised that wasn’t actually true.’ 

Draco grimaced. ‘I could, but you’re me now, Hermione. Writing down what I actually feel would create massive problems for you if I were to put what I actually feel. Not just with my parents, but here. There are a lot of people who can make your life very difficult. I can put my name on this. I can tell them, well, you can, it was done under duress, but it’s not safe for you if it becomes known that I don’t believe in pureblood ideology anymore.’ 

'How do you mean, not safe?’ 

‘His followers are everywhere. People talk. The students here talk to their parents. They talk to others. Malfoy is still a powerful name in certain circles. Until my parents are away from Tom, then I, I mean you, have to keep up this pretence. It’s not for long. I just need you to maintain this illusion for now. Once my parents have been hidden, then my mask can come off. Your mask can. You can muggle it up as much as you like then.’ 

Hermione grumbled a little at this. 

‘I know, I know,’ Draco muttered. ‘I know it goes against everything you stand for, but this is for a good reason. Tom is clever. He has eyes everywhere. He deceives. He told me to take the dark mark long before he told me my parents would be killed if I failed this mission. If he suspects even for a moment that he doesn’t control me, it’s over for them.’ 

Hermione felt the ghost of the mark on her arm. It hadn’t burnt yet. She knew it was only a matter of time. 

‘We’ll see what happens in the future. Once my parents are safe, I’ll write my side of things. Just, not yet.’ 

Hermione sighed but agreed to the compromise. 

‘How’s Harry being with you?’ Hermione asked. 

Draco looked at her a little awkwardly. ‘Well, I can safely say I was right. He’s got a crush on you.’ 

Hermione froze. ‘Did he tell you that?’ 

‘No. It’s how he’s acting. The signs he’s exhibiting. He can’t look me in the eye, but I’ve noticed him looking at me when he thinks I can’t see him. Merlin. I went through this in my sixth year. Some things just don’t change, do they?’ 

Hermione visibly cringed. ‘This can’t be happening.’  

‘If he asks me out, I’ll follow your advice and tell him I’m gay. It’s for the best. You’ll still stay friends. He’ll be pissed off, but it shouldn’t hurt your friendship in the long term. Harry doesn’t seem the sort to be judgemental about that. I don’t think he’ll ask me, well you out, though. I think he wants to, but it’s the whole Ron thing. I think he should get back to normal in a few weeks. You said he starts noticing Ginny soon. It should work itself out. If all goes to plan, she'll be the future Mrs Potter.’

Hermione visibly crossed her fingers. She pondered Draco. 

'What?' he asked. 

'Mrs Malfoy,' she said in a dry voice. 'I may have to meet your mother at Christmas. What is the current situation with that? I don't want her to get suspicious of me.'  

‘I doubt mother will be asking you things like that. This Christmas, the Manor was starting to resemble a halfway house for Death Eaters. She hated it all. Father will be back in the Manor early next year. If she makes inquiries, all you need to know is that they are very insistent on me marrying well. Just tell her that I'm single and browsing. It was the truth that Christmas. I told them I intend to marry a woman that I,' Draco paused as he glanced at Hermione, 'care for. I didn't want anything arranged for me. I will make my own choice in that matter. That is my main compromise with them, and they had no issues at all with that. Obviously, you can guess the request they had of me.'

'Is it that she must be a pureblood, by any chance?' 

‘It's all about the blood with them,’ he added wryly. 'It's an obsession passed down from generation to generation for centuries. It gets in your head. They tried to make it my obsession, and for a time, it worked. Until I saw the cost of that sort of thinking.'  

Hermione gave him an earnest look.

'I'm so sick of it,' Draco said in a hoarse voice. 'It's like, have you ever had a favourite food that you've stuffed yourself so full of that it kind of makes you sick now to just even think about?' 

'No, I don't gorge myself,' Hermione said to him plainly. 'But I understand the comparison.' 

Draco's lips twitched at that. 

'It's like that. I can't even stand thinking about it now. It's tedious. It's irritating. It's annoying. It grates at me,' Draco told her. 'As I said. I'm utterly sick of it.' 

‘Nature versus nurture. It's interesting. Your parents shaped you so much. So, if not for them, had you had grown up in a different pureblood family, you most probably would never have been bothered by the blood issue.’ 

Draco shrugged and then shook his head. ‘Not necessarily. The blood issue is rife in the circles my family moves in. They’re so close-knit. A lot of them hold similar views. Not all, but a lot. The Greengrass family are about the only family I knew growing up that was neutral. They’re infamous for never taking a side, much to the chagrin of many. It's what they have done for generations. Although, they only marry other purebloods, so it's clear to all how they truly think.'

Hermione looked a little downcast at this. 

Draco sighed. 'So many of the others are biased too. Maybe not so blatantly as my parents, but there is definitely a focus on the muggle and magical differences. There does seem to be an us and them divide. It’s hard to remain neutral when so many purebloods actively speak down about muggleborns. Although, in their defence, most purebloods never wanted it to go as far as it did in the future. They’re not monsters. Just ignorant snobs that wanted to maintain the status quo. They see the muggleborns as outsiders. Pansy is just one example. She knew it had all gone too far by our seventh year. It’s like Harry and me when we had our big fight. Most of us, on both sides, know when to stop. I knew I had gone too far when Katie almost died. That whole year was madness. I did go mad for a time.’ 

Hermione took all this on board. She looked a little weary as she thought more about Harry. ‘Harry still went with Ginny even though she’s Ron’s sister. Are you sure that Ron will put him off pursuing you, well, me?’ 

‘Mm,’ Draco murmured. ‘The thing is that Ron sees you and Ginny very differently from each other. Although, he also seems to think he's in charge of Ginny. Well, until she points out, very correctly, that he is not. I don’t think Harry will push it with you. He’ll get over it.’ 

‘Let’s hope you’re right,’ Hermione said with a sinking feeling. 

She glanced around the empty part of the library. ‘It’s nice to be able to be in public, even if we have to play a charade of sorts.’ 

Draco nodded as he watched himself pick another book off the shelf. 

‘Merlin’s spells,’ Hermione told him. 

Draco nodded and then continued making notes about Morgan Le Fay. 

He watched Hermione add more notes to the parchment. She seemed most enthusiastic as the quill moved quickly over parchment. 

‘We can do an overview first.’ Hermione chatted excitedly about the historical figures. ‘I want to meet the living muggleborns next. Dumbledore said he can arrange some interviews for us at the Ministry with key workers.’ 

Draco watched his grey eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. He looked quite unlike himself. 

‘Hermione, you need to tone down the enthusiasm. I am calm and collected at all times.’ 

Hermione snorted. 

‘Most of the time,’ Draco added with a sour look. Hermione did know him a little too well.  

‘Relax, it’s just us,’ Hermione said. ‘I’ve set a Sneakoscope in case of any lurkers. We’re perfectly safe.’ 

Draco glanced around and saw the little object.

Hermione had indeed prepared for this. 

The next hour was spent with them both gathering information from the books. Some of it was common knowledge; other parts were obscure slices of information. 

They chatted easily. From time to time, they’d glance at each other. There was still that eerie feeling when they faced their mirror reflection in real form. 

Draco tutted as he saw a blond lock looking unkempt. He brushed it back from Hermione’s forehead. 

‘It’s things like that which will give us away,’ he said to her in a deeply serious voice. ‘My hair is always in place.’ 

Hermione actually giggled at that. ‘Your ego and attention to detail does make me laugh sometimes.’ 

Draco looked at her a little disgruntled. He hadn’t intended the comment to be mocked. 

Hermione had already moved on. 

Hermione was engrossed in what she was reading as Draco took the opportunity to ask a question. 

‘Er, Hermione,’ he asked. 

‘Mm.’ 

‘I was thinking of lightening your hair. Would that be alright?’ 

‘How light?’ she asked suspiciously. 

‘Well,’ he pointed at her hair, ‘I’d like to go that light.’ 

Hermione lifted an eyebrow. ‘It’s a rather conspicuous colour. I thought we were trying not to draw too much attention.' 

It was Draco’s turn to laugh at that. ‘Everyone at Hogwarts is paying attention to you. Neither of us can just blend into the background here.’ 

‘I see your point. Why do you want to change it?’ 

‘Well, one, I miss it. Two. I’ve already tried the charm in private, and it really suits you. It made me feel a bit more like me as well.’ 

‘I don’t know. It’s such a distinctive tone. With us spending time together, people may assume we’re getting closer if I start imitating you.’ 

Draco frowned at that statement. 

‘I don’t have anything against it,’ Hermione told him. ‘It’s just maybe not the best time. Look, I don’t mind you wearing it like that in private if it makes you feel a bit more like you. But, maybe wait a bit before you start showing it off in public.’ 

Draco nodded at this. She’d made a valid point. 

‘Ok,’ he sighed sadly. 

‘You’ve already made changes to my wardrobe. Good changes, but still. I think we’re getting away with this in public for now, but any slips and people are going to start making connections.’ 

Draco scratched his chin. ‘But would they ever really believe we’ve swapped bodies? It’s impossible.’ 

‘Probably not, but they could think we’re Polyjuiced ourselves for some reason.’ 

'Talking of Polyjuice, have you spoken to Snape about getting some more ingredients? What I have in my trunk won’t last long.’ 

Hermione gave a stilted nod. ‘I have. I did say we needed quite a lot. He didn’t say much. He just sort of gave me that black look he does and then said he’d order some more in for me. He didn’t ask me any questions.’ 

'He will start asking questions in time,' he warned.  

‘I know. I've prepared myself for that. I'll play it cool with him. I have a batch of Polyjuice brewing in my room. It’s coming along nicely. It should be ready in about three more weeks.’ 

‘I know it won’t be for long, but it will be good to feel like me for a little while,’ Draco admitted. 

Draco's life was a mess, but he did need to feel the familiarity of his own skin for a time.

‘Same,’ Hermione told him.

They continued with their project in relative peace and quiet with each other.  

The next afternoon, they found themselves both sitting in the same place. Colin Creevey had just taken a photograph of this auspicious moment before scuttling off as Hermione had glared at him. 

Hermione had been a little out of sorts all day. 

She pondered Draco for a moment as he felt her eyes on him and looked up.

‘Er, Draco, have you had any strange dreams yet?’ 

Draco shook his head. ‘Not strange. Messy. I keep dreaming of me being you, then me being me. But nothing unexpected. Just mixed up dreams. So far, anyway. Why?’ 

Hermione couldn’t meet his eyes. 

‘Why did you ask me that?’ Draco asked again. 

Hermione stroked the book on the table for comfort as she met his eyes again. 

‘Before we changed, did you have any sort of dreams that didn’t actually feel like dreams? More like they were actually happening. Like they were really vivid?’ 

‘A lot of dreams are weird. You know, I’ve had dreams where I’m running in water. I’ve had dreams where people turn into tents. I’ve dreamt of flying over the moon and falling. I had one dream where I thought I was a heavyweight boxer. That was strange. Some felt real. Others were clearly dreams. Can you be more specific?’ 

‘I mean,’ Hermione asked in a low voice. It was quite unnecessary with all the charms around them. ‘Actually, no. You’ll know what I mean when you start dreaming it.’ 

He looked at Hermione, a little startled. 

She wouldn’t look at him. 

A mischievous look passed his face. ‘Who is it you dreamed of? Was it Daphne?’ 

Hermione paled a little and gave him a small nod. 

‘Daphne and I have been very close, if you must know. We’ve had several liaisons when we’ve both been single. It will never be anything more. We’re just good friends. It’s not romantic. Oh, have you dreamt of Pansy yet? I do. Quite a lot. Those can be very random. I dreamt once that we were both living in an igloo in the North Pole.’

Hermione shook her head as her face fell at this new information. ‘I, er. Not really. That was part of it a little, but it’s more than that. It was weird. The dreams are of different times in my life and yours.  I think they’re some of your memories, too, although I don’t know if it’s just my subconscious playing tricks on me because I’m in your body.’

Draco leant forward as he gazed into his own grey eyes. ‘No. I’ve not had that yet. I’ll be sure to tell you if I do.’ 

‘They flit back and forth through the years. There’s no order to them. They are getting stronger. Last night I dreamt of the Troll that attacked me back in the first year, but then the Troll turned into me being you flying on the Quidditch Pitch. It was when we were in our second year. It was that match where the bludger went crazy. You had crashed on the ground and I actually felt real pain. I woke up because of it. I couldn’t get my breath for a few minutes. It’s my life I’m seeing mostly, but I’m seeing flashes of yours. I’m sure of it. There are other things. Private things where I dream I am you. There was, er, well I was you, and Daphne was there and it all felt as real to me as this does. I physically felt her. I could feel her heart beating against my, your chest. Have your dreams even been that clear before we changed?’ 

She blushed bright red.  

Draco was watching her steadily. He was silent as he considered all this. 

‘I don’t think they’re just dreams, Draco. I’m physically feeling things in them. It’s not even like memories. It was like it was actually happening to me,’ she said in a nebulous tone.

‘Do you really think you’ve got some of my memories in your mind?’ 

Hermione looked at him gravely. ‘I don’t know for sure. It could just be the shock of all this. I just, they were too real to be just a dream. You know how with most dreams, you forget? I can remember these dreams as if they actually happened to me. Well, to you. They’re emblazoned on my memory. They’re not hazy like other dreams I've had.’ 

‘I’ll let you know if that starts happening to me.’ 

‘Thanks. What do you think it means?’ 

Draco shrugged. ‘We merged into each other in the Vortex. I suppose it makes some sort of sense that part of our memories split into each other. For dreams to feel so real to you is strange. But then, you and I are each other. We travelled back through time. Even Dumbledore said he doesn't understand this sort of magic.’  

‘Ok. I’m keeping a detailed diary of what I’m dreaming. If you could read through them and confirm to me that these things actually happened to you, it would help me.’ 

‘Do you think I’ll start seeing your memories?’ Draco asked. 

‘I think so. Prepare yourself for hours spent in the library,’ she tried to sound casual, but there was a hint of worry in her voice at what else Draco might inadvertently witness.  

His face darkened a little. ‘I, er. You may see what happened at Malfoy Manor.’ 

Hermione stilled. 

Draco looked down at the table. ‘I wanted to free them, but it was impossible.’ 

‘I know,’ Hermione said gently. ‘Luna told me you sneaked in food and provisions to them. She said you made a real difference. You made it bearable for them.’

Hermione saw a haunted look flicker across her face. 

‘Luna didn’t deserve that. None of them did,’ he said in a whisper. ‘When I was younger I’d think of prisoners of war as grown men. Actual soldiers who had killed the people fighting for us. Strong people who could handle incarceration. Instead, it was school teachers and kids. It was old men who could barely stand like Ollivander. It was abhorrent.’ 

Hermione listened quietly. 

‘The sick bastard fed Professor Burbage to Nagini in front of us. He thought it was funny,’ Draco whispered. ‘I never thought anyone could do something so foul.’ 

Hermione felt her own stomach clench. 

‘Nagini was inside Bathilda Bagshot. Actually living inside her dead body. It was decaying. It was a trap for Harry,’ she told Draco. 

He grimaced at that. They both knew this was the tip of the iceberg for the litany of revulsion that they were up against. 

‘I’ve seen atrocious things. I know you have as well, but not on this scale,’ he told her. ‘Just remember. They’re dreams. They can’t hurt you.’ 

‘They do affect me though,’ Hermione told him. ‘When you fell, I felt that. I felt Daphne. Those physical feelings are getting stronger.’

Draco felt unnerved by that. ‘Er, if they get any worse maybe you could take the dreamless potion?’  

‘That’s just it. I don’t think they are dreams,’ Hermione said in a low voice. 

‘Have you tried waking yourself up?’ 

‘I have. It’s impossible. It’s like I’m being pulled back down into them. The only time I did wake was feeling that fall of yours. The rest of them carry on and then just sort of drift into other memories or actual dreams.’ 

Draco clenched his jaw. ‘You’ll see my life,’ he muttered. His eyes turned to hers as clarity seeped into them. 

‘And you’ll see mine,’ Hermione whispered. 

Draco had a look of shame pass his face. ‘I have so many regrets. Try not to think too badly of me. There isn’t a day that goes by now that I don’t feel mortified for the things I have done. I was a spoiled, arrogant bully. You can’t think any worse of me than I do.’ 

‘Hey,’ Hermione took his hand gently, ‘I’m seeing all of that. I’m hardly the poster girl for virtuous behaviour. I kidnapped Rita Skeeter and held her hostage for months. Mariette Edgecombe has still got to walk around with Sneak on her forehead. I’m not opposed to violence when it’s necessary either.’ 

'You kidnapped Rita Skeeter?!' Draco asked in a breathless voice. 

Hermione told him about the duplicitous journalist's very illegal Animagus beetle form and how she was using it to leak information to the Daily Prophet. 

'Wow, that is hardcore,' Draco said with admiration. 'I'm impressed.' 

Hermione preened a little at that praise. 

‘You and I are so different though. Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but you and I both know it’s different. You were defending yourself from attacks. You did what you were forced to do to protect yourself and your friends. This is what I mean. Pansy and I told Rita a ton of crap to make you and Harry look like idiots. No one forced us to do that. We still did it and why? To score a few cheap, petty points. Looking back it was pathetic. At the time we thought we were being hilarious and smart.’ 

‘Neither you nor Pansy had any idea how bad things were going to get. I did. I knew Tom wasn't dead. Are you telling me that the Draco sat here today would have done that?’ 

Draco shook his head. 

‘Exactly, you were a stupid kid who had his head filled with poison since birth. You grew up. You saw the truth. For fuck’s sake, even Pansy saw what Tom and his followers actually were in the end.’

Draco watched her cautiously. 

‘Crystal balls that actually worked would be wonderful, wouldn’t they?’ Hermione said. ‘None of us would live our lives the same if we each had one. We all make mistakes.’ 

‘Can you stop trying to make me feel better?’ Draco asked in a whisper. ‘I can’t stand it. I don’t deserve it.’ 

‘On the contrary. You came through it all to the other side. Dumbledore said that it’s easier to forgive someone for being wrong than for being right. Look how far you’ve come. You don’t want to hex Harry and me anymore. You see now that we were right. You came to that conclusion all by yourself. That came from you. Something deep inside you knew that. That started to get into your head way before Tom threatened your parents. You knew Tom was wrong. How long did it take you to realise that? A few months? A few weeks? You’d been brainwashed for years. That you could fight that is incredible.’ 

Draco exhaled at this. His eyes looked at the pale hand on top of his own. The Slytherin ring stood out. 

He felt a small tingle go through him from her touch. ‘Thanks,’ he murmured. 

‘You’re welcome. Whatever I see in your life, I’ll know the truth. You’re not who you were. You’re better. You grew up.’ 

Draco felt his chin wobble at that. An overwhelming emotion flooded through him as tears prickled his eyes. 

‘Oh, Hermione, that was so lovely,’ he sobbed. ‘Sorry, for getting like this. I just couldn’t stop myself. I'm all emotional today.’ 

Hermione looked at him curiously as she made the connection. ‘It’s the 2nd. My estrogen, serotonin and progesterone levels are changing. I'm like clockwork,’ she murmured. Case solved. She pondered this. ‘Draco. Just so you know. You’re probably going to be a little emotional for a few days. It’s premenstrual tension. You’re liable to be a bit more on edge for the foreseeable future.’ 

Draco looked at her with understanding. ‘I know. I’ve been expecting this for a while now. I’ve prepared myself. I have plenty of chocolate. A hot water bottle. Madam Pomfrey will have my potion ready for me. You’ve talked me through it all. I have everything I need. I’m ready.’

He said the last part very bravely as Hermione comforted him. 

‘Yes, you are,’ Hermione said in a firm, yet kind voice. ‘You can do this. I have faith in you. Just, in a couple of days, try not to bite my head off. I know that sometimes I can find anything infuriating. Once Harry breathed too loudly and I had to leave the room because I was on the verge of hexing him. Try and keep it to yourself. I often find going into a Room of Requirement and using the Bombarda spell at inanimate objects is a helpful way to release my aggression.’ 

‘Thank you for your kind advice,’ Draco said with a grateful tone. ‘I know how vexed mother can get sometimes. It’s best to keep that sort of outlet private. Mother has similar coping mechanisms. She doesn't like to frighten father and me unnecessarily.’

Hermione patted his arm in a supportive gesture. 'I'm here for you,' she said softly as Draco sniffed. 

'Why does that make me want to cry again? 'he asked. 

'Oh, poppet. Welcome to the roller coaster ride of estrogen fluctuations. You might need to buckle yourself in tightly.' 

Draco's face fell. 





It was later that night that a sleeping Harry turned over in his bed. His mind was full of Hermione. His best friend. His rock. She was sitting opposite him in the Great Hall but her hair was back to being bushy. 

'I mean it, Harry. You should turn that book in. I've got a bad feeling about it.' 

'Let it go. The man can do what he wants with it. It's his book. You're just annoyed 'cause he won the Felix potion with it,' came Ron's voice. 

Hermione gave a huff as she shook her head with annoyance. 

'You didn't follow the correct procedure. It's cheating.' 

Harry also felt annoyed now. 

'Don't call Harry a cheat. Merlin, you're such a sore loser,' Ron said as he shoved another sausage into his mouth. 

'Don't talk to me like that,' Hermione's shrill voice carried over the table. 

'Hey, calm down. Why can't you just accept that this Half-blood Prince is better than you are at Potions? Stop going on about it. You've been droning on for days about this. Let it go,' Ron snapped back. 

Hermione glared back at Ron with daggers. 

Harry turned again in his sleep. The dream felt so vivid. Hermione was arguing with Ron like normal. It was a slightly different argument to the ones he had witnessed before, but they were still arguing over the potions book. That was normal behaviour. It was what he was used to. All of them were. The clear dream drifted again into a more disorientated one. 

Hermione with the shorter, glossier hair was with him. They were alone. Her brown eyes were warm and inviting as they looked at him intently. 

They were laying out by the Black lake on a warm summer's day as Hermione gave him that charming look that had crossed her face in the Great Hall. Harry felt his heart leap as Hermione's hand grazed his own. 

'Friends forever,' Hermione said to him in a whisper. 

'Forever,' Harry murmured back. 

Hermione's face leant forward as her lips touched his. He felt a pleasurable sensation surge down his spine. He opened his eyes to see Hermione smiling at him. 

'I love you,' she said in a smooth, gentle voice. 

'I love you too,' he whispered to her happily.

His dream became hazy again as he stared at her.

A dark shadow fell over them both. 

'OY! Get off her, Potter,' came Ron's angry voice bellowing in the background. 

Harry flinched in the dream. 

He swore at that moment that he saw Hermione's warm brown eyes turn to cold grey as Hermione, Ron and the Black lake all disappeared around him in a mist. 

Harry turned over restlessly in his sleep again.

The mist had cleared and this time he was at a very clean, white, Kings Cross Station. He was alone. He looked around but he couldn't see any trains waiting for him. The station was deserted and silent.

He sat down on the platform and gently leant back in the quiet stillness. He felt his eyes grow heavy as he fell asleep within his dream into the black abyss.

He knew no more until the morning.

Chapter Text

Harry stared across the Great Hall at Katie Bell. She was doing nothing out of the ordinary. She was simply eating her breakfast, yet Harry was fascinated by this image. 

He’d had a dream of her the week before. It had been so vivid that he’d wondered if Tom had sent it to him. That made no sense, though.  

It had seemed so lifelike. Katie had been cursed in front of him on their trip to Hogsmeade a few days earlier, but here she was, without a care in the world. Well, Harry wouldn’t say without any care, but she was certainly in better shape than she had been in his dream.

She was conscious for a start.  

Harry looked back down at his breakfast. 

The dream he’d had last night of Hermione and Ron arguing over the book had felt like that. Like it was really happening in front of him. It had felt just like this did right now.  

Hermione was sat next to him with her head in a book. She was reading about a muggleborn called Francis McDougall from the Seventeenth century. He had risen through the ranks to become one of the most feared warriors in the country. 

Harry’s face softened as he looked at her. She told him they had already dedicated a chapter to his mother in the book that spoke of her accomplishments and bravery. This had warmed his heart immensely. He was looking forward to reading the project when they had finished it. 

He thought a lot of half-bloods and muggleborns would be too. There was so little in the way of real praise for them in their world. 

He was now finding it a little easier to look Hermione in the eye. He’d had a difficult few days coming to terms with his new attraction to her. 

Harry looked down the table as Ron was eating his breakfast. He was actually being rather quiet. He’d been shooting Hermione a few questioning looks. 

He sighed. There was nothing to be done with his new feelings towards her. If he did ask her out, then Ron would throw the hissy fit to end all hissy fits if they got together. 

It was also clear that his feelings were one-sided. Hermione didn’t flirt with him. She didn’t give him the look. She was tactile enough to show him she cared for him, but that was as far as it went. 

He thought of the bushy-haired Hermione in his vivid dream. That was the Hermione he’d grown up with. Bossy, irritable, brilliant Hermione who was like a sister to him. 

This Hermione in front of him had evolved, and he liked what he was seeing very much. Her movements were more casual. She still lifted her voice an octave on occasion to hustle the Gryffindors to their next lesson, and she was still very focused on her academics, but her aura had changed somewhat. 

The major change was her complete unwillingness to be pulled into any sort of altercation with Ron. There had been a noticeable shift in their relationship, and it was all coming from her. 

What had caused that? 

He remembered Ron calling the Slug Club pathetic. Was that it? Was Ron’s jealousy Hermione’s tipping point? Possibly. Hermione had worked hard to be acknowledged. Ron didn’t apply himself, but he had become acerbic when Hermione had been noticed.  

Harry continued to eat his breakfast in deep thought. Hermione had asked Ron to join her at the Slug Club Christmas party, which seemed to improve his mood. Had Hermione had time to think properly about this concession to him? Would it always be a case of Ron causing a fuss over everything that didn’t revolve around him? As Hermione moved higher up the ladder, would Ron actually resent her success? Ron hadn’t given her any praise over her accomplishment when he'd had ample time to do so.

Harry shifted in his seat. Would Ron always be like this with her? Hermione was ambitious. Was she perhaps considering the reality of a future with Ron? Would he always be jealous of her achievements?

Ron hadn’t apologised to Hermione for belittling the Club to his knowledge. Although, since when did Ron apologise for anything? Had Hermione simply given up with him? 

It appeared to Harry that she had. It looked like she was prepared to be cordial to Ron as long as he was polite back, but their vibe had certainly changed. 

He looked across at Draco, whose distinctive grey eyes appeared to move swiftly away from him.

Harry frowned at that. 

Hermione had told him that Draco was being fairly grumpy with her, but he was grudgingly doing the work that Dumbledore had set them. 

Harry thought of how Hermione’s eyes had turned grey in the dream. He abstractly supposed that made sense. They were working together after all. His subconscious had merged them together in that strange dream. Still, a little tug at the back of his mind refused to dissipate. He was incredibly paranoid about Malfoy and didn’t understand why grey eyes had featured in that bizarre dream. Was it a sign or warning of some sorts? Apart from Sirius, Draco was the only person he had known with that colour of eyes.

Hermione was still absorbed in her book as Harry took out the Marauder's map. His eyes roamed over the plan of the great hall. There he was. Harry Potter. There was Hermione next to him. Across the room was Draco Malfoy. Katie Bell was sat exactly where the map told him she was. All of it seemed in order. The map never lied. Remus had told him that. 

Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he had a slither of doubt about it for the first time. He turned again to Draco, who was speaking to Pansy. That was Draco. He could see him with his own eyes. The slight sneer that was never too far away was plastered on his pale face.  

Harry turned back to Hermione as his eyes roamed over her face. She had a slight smile on her lips in response to whatever she was reading. 

‘Enjoying the book?’ Harry asked her. 

‘Mm, very much. This Francis guy was hardcore. He took on three dark wizards and kicked their asses into next week,’ Hermione murmured with a distracted tone. 

Harry blinked at this unusual turn of phrase from Hermione.  

Hermione turned to him with a slightly awed expression.

‘Muggleborns are my people, Harry. Merlin, Lily, Morgan, Francis. They're mine, now.’

She said with a slightly proud tone. 

Harry didn’t quite know how to respond to that statement. Hermione was behaving very oddly, even for her. 

Hermione had a faraway look in her eye as she absentmindedly adjusted her fringe a millimetre to her desired style. 

Harry watched this close attention to detail with a quizzical eye.

Hermione was certainly taking a lot more care of her hair than she had done. 

‘My people now. Muggleborns,’ she murmured with a slightly dazed expression. 

Harry looked at her, slightly startled as Hermione’s eyes glistened. 

‘Are you alright?’ Harry asked her uncomfortably. 

‘Oh, Harry. You’re always so thoughtful towards me.’

He watched with growing agitation as her bottom lip trembled. 

‘Er, are you sure you're alright?’ 

Hermione wiped her eyes. ‘I am. This project is just releasing a lot of feelings inside of me,’ she said in a croaky tone. ‘There’s so much here for us to be proud of. Our legacies and contributions to the Wizarding World have been enormous over the centuries.’ 

Harry didn’t quite know what to say. ‘Well, that’s nice, isn’t it? Why are you crying?’ 

Hermione huffed at that as her face turned to his in irritation. ‘Don’t patronise me, Potter.’ 

Harry flinched backwards. 

Hermione shook herself and lifted her hand gently. ‘I’m sorry for that outburst. I’m just feeling a lot of feelings right now.’ 

Harry nodded cautiously. 

Hermione took a deep breath. ‘I’m going to class.’

‘I’ll walk with you.'

‘No,’ Hermione said quietly. ‘I’d like to be by myself right now.’ 

‘Ok,’ Harry said with uncertainty. 

Hermione gave him a brittle smile. ‘You’re such a good friend.’ 

Harry watched with fascination as Hermione gave him a manic smile, patted him on his head and then turned and swept out of the room with gravitas. 

Ron had been watching this with a curious expression. 

‘Is she alright?’ Ron asked Harry. 

Harry shrugged. ‘I think so.’ 

Ron watched the retreating figure of Hermione in deep thought.

‘I’ve noticed that she seems to get extra emotional at times, and she’s on edge on a normal day. It’s like, there’s a pattern to it. It’s like clockwork. I've noticed that every month, she seems to get extra sensitive for a couple of days. Do you reckon she has some sort of condition?’

Harry heard Ginny snort from further down the table. He could only stare in wonder as he mused at Ron’s immature naivety. 

‘I, er, maybe,’ Harry muttered. He really didn’t want to discuss the menstrual cycle at breakfast. 

Ron nodded to himself. ‘Still, it’s Hermione. She’s always been a bit mental.’ 

Harry saw Ginny glare at Ron for that one. He, in turn, could only sigh. Even Neville was watching Ron with a dour expression. 

He glanced up as he noticed narrowed grey eyes boring daggers into the back of Ron’s head. 

This was not an unusual occurrence from Malfoy. His dislike of Ron was infamous. This seemed acutely personal, though. 

Harry lowered his eyes. There was no way Malfoy was taking offence on Hermione’s behalf. Was there?

Maybe they were getting closer by working together on this project. He assumed that was one of the reasons Dumbledore had put them together. It was futile, though. Draco would be moaning and complaining about Hermione to all of Slytherin House. He would most certainly be telling all and sundry that somehow Hermione had sullied his perfect existence simply by breathing near him. 

Harry’s eyes shifted with confusion. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was very off. 

Across the room, Pansy was watching Draco with a speculative look. 

It was later that night as Draco knocked on Hermione’s door, looking and feeling wretched. 

Hermione opened it up, looked at her pale face, and immediately knew what the problem was.

She beckoned him in. 

‘Lay down, Draco,’ she said in a sympathetic voice. 

‘Thank you,’ Draco whispered. ‘These cramps are incredibly arduous.’ 

‘They won’t last long,’ Hermione promised. 

‘I took the potion. It took the worst of it away, but my insides feel like they’re being squeezed.’ 

‘I know,’ Hermione whispered as Draco lay down gingerly, and she placed the hot water bottle further upon his stomach. Her stomach. She knew from experience the major source of pain.

'Press it tightly down on the spot that aches the most,' she said in the most comforting tone she could muster. 

‘Even my legs feel achy,’ Draco murmured. 

Hermione lay next to him and gently stroked his hair. 

‘I feel so tired and heavy. So uncomfortable,’ Draco said in a plaintive voice. ‘My whole being feels empty too. I feel like I’ll never laugh again.’ 

‘You will laugh again. I promise,’ Hermione told him in an adamant tone. 

She ran her fingers down his neck as Draco leaned into the touch. 

‘That feels ever so nice,’ he said in a warm voice. 

Hermione gave him a look of pity. She knew what he was going through. 

‘Would you like a back rub?’ she asked. 

Draco looked a little uncertain, but the sheer desperation of his current plight made him give her a tiny nod. 

Draco lay face-first on the bed as he felt his own hands rubbing and pressing into his sore muscles. 

‘Ah,’ she heard him groan in relief. ‘That feels so much better.’ 

Hermione watched herself visibly begin to relax. 

She kneaded and pressed into all the spots she knew had ached in her.

Draco’s moans were bordering on the unseemly. 

‘That is such a relief. Your fingers are magical,’ he said in an appreciative voice. 

Hermione focused on all her problem areas she knew from memory as Draco's breathing began to slow.

Hermione continued to massage him and within a few minutes, Draco’s eyes had closed, and she heard the deep breathing of someone who was no longer conscious. 

Hermione lay back on the bed in silk pyjamas and got back under the covers. The bed was big enough for both of them. She was rather tired herself. She heard Draco’s steady breathing, which lulled her into the land of nod too. 

Draco stared out. Either these people were giants or he had shrunk. He looked down at himself. The concrete floor was much closer than he was used to. He was wearing what appeared to be a navy dress. 

He looked around him. He was by a children's play park. He saw some other little people running to the playground. 

A giant woman knelt in front of him. 

‘Hermione, darling. I want you to go and play with the other children. You need to develop some social skills.’ 

‘But mum, I don’t want to play with the other children. They’re too loud and boisterous.’ 

Draco blinked. He was mini Hermione. He had felt his mouth move and words come out of it. He felt a slight breeze on his skin. Hermione had been right. This wasn’t a dream. 

‘Hermione, please. Just try. If you don’t like it, we’ll go home.’ 

‘I want to go home now. I’ve got a lot of books to read.’

The woman looked at her with consternation. ‘Books aren’t everything, Hermione. I’m getting a little worried for you, actually. No child your age should be so studious. You need to learn how to play too.’ 

Hermione stamped her foot. ‘They’ll pick on me. They always do. They call me names.’ 

‘That’s just kids being kids. They call each other names too. You need to know how to fit in. You need to learn how to defend yourself.’

Her mother had said with more than a little irritation. 

Draco felt Hermione’s mum turn her around and shoo her to the slide. 

In this strange reality, he was carried along as Hermione made her cautious way to the slide where some other children were hanging around. 

‘Aw, isn’t that sweet,’ said a brown-haired girl leant against the steps. ‘Mummy is making sure you get on the slide properly. God, Granger. You’re such a baby.’ 

‘Shut up, Lucy,’ Draco found himself answering back in Hermione's voice. 

‘OOh, what you gonna do? Tell a teacher?’ Lucy said as the two boys she was with laughed loudly. 

‘Get out of my way,’ Hermione said as she went to go past them.

Surprisingly, the three children moved backwards. 

Draco watched this with a great deal of suspicion. They were up to something. He knew that move. Pretend to do what you’re told, then sabotage. 

He looked up as he felt himself climb up the steps. Hermione had almost reached the top when Draco felt clutching hands grab at his ankles and then yank him down hard.

He felt the hard crack on his spine, and then his body bounced back off the ground as something crackled inside him. Draco knew Hermione’s magic had protected her from too much harm. 

‘Did you see that?’ a blonde boy asked as Draco looked up dazed from the ground. 

‘You’re a freak, Granger,’ Lucy said in a strained voice. ‘A slimy teacher’s pet, you snobby cow. No wonder no one likes you.’ 

With that, the three children ran away as Hermione’s mum came running up to her. She had seen and heard everything. 

Hermione raised her chin high.

‘There you go, mother. Are you satisfied? Can I go home?’ 

Draco felt the hollowness in Hermione’s stomach. The sorrowful look on Hermione’s mum’s face made Draco feel more anguish. 

The world around him shimmered as the playground disappeared, and he was floating in the mist for a time. He felt warmth from beside him and moved sideways. 

His eyes snapped open. He was older now. He recognised the Ministry of Magic he was standing in. He was facing Antonin Dolohov. 

‘Silencio,’ Hermione snapped out. Draco felt his wand arm move up as magic surged out of him. 

Dolohov gave a grimace of annoyance as he was reduced to casting a non-verbal spell.

Purple light shot out as Hermione tried quickly to move, but the vicious spell caught her. 

‘Oh,’ Draco heard himself say as a crippling pain shot through him as he felt himself fall to the floor, and black darkness enveloped him. 

His hands frantically reached out in the dark as they felt for a comforting presence.

He curled in on himself as he pressed against warmth and eased into an even deeper sleep. 

Hermione woke the next morning to find Draco tucked under her arm and his arm curled around her waist. She was surprised to see him still there with her. 

She went through several extreme emotions at this sight. Wariness and concern went through her. Her mind wondered if he had started to see the sort of things in his dreams that she was. 

She remembered what time of the month this was. She calmed down. She’d often pulled Crookshanks into a big hug when she was feeling particularly vulnerable.

She looked down at the calm expression on her other face and relaxed. Draco was using her as a security blanket. With that thought registered in her logical mind, she began to unwrap herself from him as Draco woke with the movement. 

He had that brief look of surprise at his immediate situation as he stared at her. At himself. She could see him acknowledging the facts of their body swap immediately. For a moment, they just stared at each other. 

Draco looked down at his arm wrapped around Hermione’s waist as he peered at her apologetically as he eased his arm away. 

‘I, sorry,’ he said. ‘I must have done it in my sleep.’ 

‘That’s ok,’ Hermione said in a wavering tone. 

Draco looked a little nervous as he sat back. 

‘I feel much better,’ he told her. 

‘I know,’ Hermione told him. ‘It’s bad for a night; then it eases off.’ 

Draco nodded. ‘I, er. I’d best get going.’ 

Hermione gave him a short nod. 

Draco picked himself up and stared at her. He’d tell her about his dreams later. Now was not the time. She was giving him a peculiar look. 

‘Thanks for helping me,’ Draco said. 

‘That’s quite all right. I know what you’re going through.’

Draco gave her a nervous nod and then left the room. 

Hermione lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Whichever way you looked at it, Draco Malfoy had just spent the night in her bed. 

She didn’t feel as disturbed by that thought as she would have done even a week ago. 

Pansy sat at breakfast with her mind whirling. Something about Draco was different. She had known that for a few days now. 

The lost look in his grey eyes when she had asked him if he was alright had physically resonated in her.  

She had stood watching him in silence for several minutes before she approached him. He hadn’t stood like himself. She had watched him clutch his hair tightly. He had rested his head against the window. His eyes were staring out at something she couldn’t see. 

This was very unusual behaviour from Draco. She’d never seen him so agitated. 

His body language with her was wary. Tense. They had grown up together. Even when he was in one of his moods, he had always been relaxed with her. 

Pansy had heard Blaise winding him up. He had been in one of his joking moods. He was known to have them periodically. He had been winding Draco up about Granger. He had been known to do that over the years. 

Draco had always given him that dismissive look when Blaise did this. His face would always pull into revulsion at the merest hint that he could possibly like Granger in that way. 

Pansy had eyed Draco at the table. He hadn’t reacted to Blaise's insinuations differently at first. Draco had shown disdain. Denial. That was normal. It was a bit of a long-running joke in Slytherin that Draco’s too frequent obsessions with Harry and Hermione were simply a front for other things. He was far too interested in both of them to simply be mere dislike.  

Draco had risen above it all, and the jokes had more or less stopped, although Blaise sometimes liked to wheel out the old favourites from time to time. 

Then Pansy had watched Draco just walk out. The Slytherin, renowned for having the biggest gob and greatest put-downs in Hogwarts, had just left the great hall without comment. 

Pansy knew deep down then that something was very wrong. Draco could always bat away banter with ease. 

Her own father had told Pansy that she wasn’t to ask Draco any questions about Lucius Malfoy or the return of Lord Voldemort. He had ordered her not to ask Draco any questions about what he was up to. If she saw him acting suspiciously, she wasn’t to draw any attention to that. 

Pansy had been extraordinarily cross at this order, and she had been about to launch into a scathing retort until she had seen the worry in her father’s eyes. She had known then that Draco was mixed up in something very bad. 

At the start of the term, Pansy had made her decision to give Draco the silent treatment for his refusal to commit to her, and she had intended for that to continue, but ultimately, even if they weren’t together in the way she wanted, he was still her friend, and she was genuinely worried for him. 

His behaviour had been erratic since he’d returned to Hogwarts. He had been cold. He had barely even spoken to his dorm mates in those first few weeks. 

There had been a cruel vibe emanating from him. He hadn’t been the Draco she’d grown up with. This Draco had lost his humour. As dark and sarcastic as it was, it was very noticeable to her that there was no trace of it to be found. 

Then he had changed again. He had started talking again to Blaise. He seemed less sullen. 

She had made a few subtle enquiries. She hadn’t seen Draco in the common room for days. Blaise and Theodore had both told her the same thing. Draco had locked his drapes and had gone elsewhere. 

They only saw him in lessons and at mealtimes.  

This had piqued her curiosity. When news reached her of the Muggleborn Appreciation Project that Draco had been dragged into, it only added to the latest in the long line of odd happenings that term. 

Dumbledore had insisted he partner with Granger. 

Pansy took a sip of tea. At first glance, it seemed plausible. Dumbledore wanted Draco to be taught a lesson. Draco had looked suitably unimpressed by this arrangement. 

Pansy then recalled the offended look on Draco's face at Ron's criticism of Hermione's mental capabilities. This counted as very absurd behaviour. 

Put all together with everything else she had witnessed; Pansy had most definitely sniffed a rat. 

Pansy was like a bloodhound with secrets. Especially one that concerned Draco. She wouldn’t rest until she had solved this mystery. 

Pansy took a deep sigh and resolved her fortitude. Her decision was made.

Operation stalk Draco was to commence. 

Chapter Text

Ginny leant back on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room as she watched who she thought was Hermione read a book in earnest. 

Harry was across the room on another sofa and appeared to be dozing. 

Hermione was engrossed in another book about Francis McDougall. Pages were being devoured, and pages were getting flipped. Ginny had seen this sort of worship towards literature before and didn't think anything of it. 

'So,' Ginny began when Hermione had deigned to look away from the book and rub her eyes. 'You and Ron?' 

A deep sigh reverberated around the sofa.  

'You've started to walk away from the arguments,' Ginny stated. 'Why?' 

‘I’m tired of it,’ Draco said in a wary voice. 

‘Oh,’ Ginny murmured. ‘You’re tired of it?’

‘I just want to focus on my studies for now. What with everything going on, it’s best I learn what I can to prepare for the future,’ Draco said shortly. He didn’t want to go too much into detail about what the future held. Knowing how Ron was to behave towards Hermione in the future left him feeling cold. 

Ginny didn’t say anything back to that.

Draco looked up as Dean wandered up towards them. 

‘Hey, Ginny. If you’re not busy, do you want to go for a walk with me?’ Dean asked in a breezy tone.

Ginny glanced at Hermione’s doppelganger, who gave her a short nod in return. 

‘See you later,’ Draco told her. 

‘Ok, Hermione,’ Ginny said in a faltering voice. She looked a little perturbed as she left the room with Dean.

Draco turned to look at a sleeping Harry in contemplation. That was a potential problem that needed to be nipped in the bud. He hadn’t been that different from Hermione. He could understand he had been more relaxed than she had been at this point in the timeline. Hermione had told him all about the nagging she had done about the potions book. She'd also been very worried about Tom.

Draco had brushed over the potion books issue with Harry. He supposed the whole Ron attitude change was surprising to Harry as well. Still, for the longest time, Harry had seen Hermione as a sister. Hermione had confirmed that to him. Harry was very much with Ginny in the future, and by all accounts, he was very happy with her. What was the reason for this change in him? It couldn’t just be artificial. 

Hermione had been quite morose in this stage of the timeline if he remembered his own mind rightly. His mind had been distracted in his own sixth year, but he had noticed her being rather on edge in their potions lessons and quite dour whenever he had seen her. She'd seemed more contemplative. Their eyes had met more often than not. They'd both had their own issues at the time. He could assume that they'd both recognised a kindred spirit in each other by that point. 

Draco pondered his recent behaviour as Hermione. He'd mostly been upbeat and more light. He refused to bicker with Ron. Draco knew he had been rather emotional today. He was up and down. The sooner he was back in his own body, the better. He supposed his own emotions had been volatile for months in his own sixth year, but he did have an imminent death and a Dark Lord hovering behind him at the time. He was astounded that women went through an emotional whirlwind every month. 

Draco returned to read his book, relieved the conversation with Ginny was paused. He’d been mainly steering clear of the Gryffindors. There was too much that could go wrong. Especially with Ginny, who knew Hermione better than most. She was much more likely to detect any deviation from Hermione’s natural personality. 

Draco heard a gentle snore from Harry and relaxed with his book. The more he read about all the famous muggleborns from history, the more impressed he was. 

Harry was slipping into another vision. He was in a tent. Across from him, he saw a pale and gaunt-looking Hermione. He wasn’t speaking. Neither was she. She was sitting down in a rickety chair and staring into space. He could see from her eyes that she’d been crying. 

She looked a little older. Harry felt his own body feeling a chill. She’d grown her hair back out. Her mane was back in its familiar large bushy style. She was wearing a locket around her neck that he’d never seen before. Harry gazed around him. They were alone. 

He realised with sudden clarity that the newfound feelings he had been experiencing for Hermione had completely disappeared inside him. He was looking at her with the same fondness he had looked at her last week. She was still his good friend, but he didn't feel that pull towards her that he was currently experiencing. 

Hermione turned to him with tired brown eyes. 

‘It’s my turn to wear it. Get some sleep,’ Harry heard himself say as his lips moved by their own accord. He sounded utterly drained.

Hermione gave him a solemn look. ‘Ok. Don’t wear it any longer than you can handle. Wake me up when it gets too much.’ 

Harry felt a heaviness fill him as she handed over the locket. It looked like it had a snake on it. He could feel his body grow even more cold and clammy as he put it around his neck, and it touched his skin. He knew instinctively that whatever was in this object was evil. His entire being became more gloomy. 

Hermione was looking at him with pity. 

Harry awoke with a jolt in the common room. 

His eyes blearily turned over to Hermione, who was still engrossed in her book. He looked again at her. Her face had more colour in it. She looked healthier. Her hair was looking shorter and more glossy again. 

She was lounging in a rather imperious and relaxed way. She was normally quite a rigid person. Harry had noticed that particular change in her a few days ago. She was sitting much more like Ginny now. Harry frowned. A lot of students who played Quidditch had that sort of laconic body language when they were resting. 

Hermione’s one great grievance at Hogwarts was all the flying and the lack of compatibility that had with her vertigo. He remembered them flying on the back of Buckbeak in their third year as Hermione had dug her nails in his back and shrieked in his ear.

Harry smiled. Good times. Hermione was lousy at flying. It caused many titters in Gryffindor house when Hermione even so much as looked at a broom. She liked her feet planted on solid ground. 

Harry looked again at her. Hermione was reminding him of someone that he couldn’t quite place. His feelings were all over the place with her. In some ways, he had never felt so close to her. In other ways, he was acutely aware that something had changed within her. He just didn’t know what was causing it. 

Harry watched again as Hermione moved her hair slightly and her facial expression morphed into astonishment at whatever she was reading. 

‘Fuck me,’ Harry heard her whisper. ‘What a triumph.’ 

Harry blinked at another unusual turn of phrase. Hermione wasn’t one to use expletives. She had to be absolutely enraged or very upset to curse. She certainly never swore when reading quietly to herself. For the first time, a thought flittered through his mind that Hermione was perhaps under a spell. Still, she wasn’t exhibiting any other symptoms except for her improvement in attire and hair. 

His mind roamed about that vision he had just had. He wondered again if this was Tom sending bizarre visions to him. Still, this didn’t make any sense to him. Tom was insane, but even taking that into account, sending him these random visions when he slept didn’t seem to be serving Tom any sort of purpose. Why would watching Katie get cursed and Ron and Hermione arguing over a book benefit Tom in any way? 

What were Hermione and he doing in a tent by themselves? Where was Ron? Where were any of the others? What was that locket all about? Why did Hermione look older? Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? 

His eyes stared again at Hermione. He wanted to be close to her. Why now? He’d never considered her as a girlfriend. It wasn’t that she was bad looking. On the contrary, Harry knew she was attractive on an objective level. But she was Hermione. His friend. His sister. His nagging, bossy, sometimes very sweet friend. He loved her with all his heart, but not once had he ever thought about kissing her till a few days ago. Could a haircut really flip a switch like that? Was he that shallow? Harry contemplated her again. 

Her new image had impressed him at first, but she didn’t look that different to how she normally did. It was certainly not enough of a physical change to continue this overt infatuation with her. His mind fluttered. He had really started noticing her when he started having these visions. 

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to be close to her, but there was something else lacking here. Harry shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He didn’t know what he wanted from her. He wasn't thinking beyond that. He wasn't thinking of asking her to be his girlfriend. It was only the immediate he was focused on. This was Hermione. How can a person’s feelings towards a friend change so quickly? For a tiny split second, he wondered if someone had dosed him with a love potion. Almost immediately, he dismissed that thought. This wasn’t some sort of an overreaction. It wasn’t like he was gazing at her with simpering adoration. His head was clear. Well, as clear as it could be under the circumstances. 

Something weird was happening to him. Harry didn’t feel it was nefarious like he did when Tom invaded his mind. It was alarming to him, though. He thought of Kings Cross Station and how real that had felt. 

He considered mentioning this to Dumbledore but then shook it off. The visions could be caused by stress. 

Maybe if the dreams got worse and actually had some relevance to what was actually happening, or if he began to dream of Tom, then he would certainly go to the Headmaster.  

Harry watched as Hermione’s eyes rapidly ran down yet another page in the book. She was so focused she hadn’t noticed him watching her. 

He felt that pull again towards her. Harry bit his lip. Where was this need to kiss her coming from? He’d always felt comfortable with her. She was one of the few people in his life that he could actually relax around. Harry tilted his head. Was it just a random crush? Would he just snap out of it in a few days and put it down as one of those things? Although this felt like more than Cho had felt.

This pull towards Hermione felt more primal. It was an urge. A need. He felt his magic wanting to merge with hers. It. He felt a little like he was being guided toward her. It really felt like he was supposed to be really noticing Hermione. 

The haircut was one thing. Harry could accept on some level he was being a little shallow about that. It wasn’t as if Hermione was the only good looking girl he knew. Ginny was attracting a lot of interest for good reason. There were other girls he'd grown up with at Hogwarts that had also caught his eye. Harry considered both Ginny and Hermione. Hermione wasn’t acting like herself. Not really. She seemed to be acting more like Ginny in a way. Still, these feelings had come out of nowhere. 

Harry felt frustrated at acknowledging this. It was like reaching out into pitch black and knowing something was just there, out of reach.  

Hermione had seemed ever so out of sorts at breakfast. The way she had been rambling on about muggleborns in a strangely bewildered tone had been a little disconcerting. 

Harry watched as Hermione twirled her wand in her fingers in a swift and repetitive action as his eyes followed the motion. It was so quick it was becoming blurred. He’d never seen Hermione play with her wand like that. Not many students did. It took a great deal of dexterity to manage, and most students didn't want to risk damaging their wands. Ginny did twirl her wand sometimes. So did Draco. 

Harry frowned at that. What did Draco have to do with any of this? Why was he in his head? That blond git was up to no good. He was probably up to no good right now. He thought of grey eyes in his dream and flexed his fingers. Now was not the time to devote his energy to thinking about that moron. 

‘Hermione,’ Harry called out gently. He needed a distraction. The Malfoy spawn was yet another problem on his very long list of problems and questions he had wrapped around his neck. 

Hermione ignored him. 

‘Hermione,’ he called out a little louder. 

Brown eyes peered up in surprise. 

‘Oh, Po- Harry. You’re awake.’ 

Hermione smiled at him as brown eyes looked at him with concern. 

‘Good nap?’ Draco asked. 

‘Er, yes,’ Harry said for want of anything to say. 

Sitting here now, looking at Hermione, he couldn’t think of anything to say. If he told her what was going on in his head, she’d only get worried about him. 

Draco observed Harry, who looked at him dumbly. He looked around at the empty common room and then closed his book and leant forward. He wanted to test the waters. 

‘So, Ginny and Dean are dating. Have you any thoughts on that?’ 

Harry blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that question to be asked of him. He shrugged. 

Draco observed him. ‘Any opinion at all?’ 

Harry scrunched his face up. ‘Dean’s a decent guy. Ginny’s not stupid. I hope they’re happy together.’ 

This was said in a very slightly resentful tone. It was very subtle. A lot of people wouldn’t have heard the underlying negativity, but Draco was very good at listening for nuance. 

Harry was already starting to see Ginny as more than a friend on some level, whether or not he was aware of that yet. This was good. Draco relaxed a little. 

‘That’s right. Ginny isn’t stupid. That’s a good quality to have, I think.' 

Harry looked at his best friend curiously. 

‘What do you think about them?’ he asked. 

‘They won’t last,’ Draco said with a small smirk.

Harry gave him a cautious look at that. ‘How do you know that?’ 

‘She’s not said anything to me. It just seems she’s rather casual with Dean. She's not acting like she would be if she genuinely believed they were going to last. He’s not Mr Right. He’s Mr Right now.’ 

Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  

Harry changed the subject.

‘So, what’s going on with you?’ he asked as he tried not to blush.

Draco shrugged. ‘Nothing, and that’s the way I want to keep it. I need to be completely focused this year.’ 

Draco spoke that crystal clear with no room for any interpretation. 

‘Oh,’ Harry said. He wondered if this was Hermione’s subtle way of turning him down. 

Draco glanced at Harry uncomfortably. 

Harry was visibly nervous. Draco had never seen Harry nervous around Hermione. Exasperated? Sure. Irritated? Yep. Exhausted? Many times. But never nervous. 

Draco paused in reflection. Was Harry’s behaviour somehow linked to their predicament? He was the only person acting differently from how he remembered them being the first time around. 

Draco had scrubbed Hermione up very nicely, but this change in Harry seemed to be more than that. Draco had faith in the power of fashion, but even so. Harry seemed genuinely affected by his presence. 

This was way more than just fancying someone. 

‘So, what’s going on with you?’ Draco asked with interest. 

Harry pretended to pick some fluff off his jumper. ‘Oh, you know. Things are quiet. For now. I’m making the most of it,’ he added darkly. 

Draco understood. These last few months in their sixth year was the calm before the storm for all of them. 

Harry was still feeling that pull towards his best friend. He wanted to reach out to touch her. It was inexplicable to him. He’d always enjoyed their hugs, but they had always been innocent. This was physical on a different level. 

There was an uneasy silence between them. They were both very aware of the fact they were alone.  

‘Er, I’m going for a walk,’ Draco said suddenly.  

Harry barely reacted as he watched who he thought was Hermione leave the room. 

Draco lay down on the bed as the big ball of fur known as Crookshanks stretched out and gave him a purr as a greeting. Draco rubbed him behind the ears and lay back. He was still feeling a little delicate but much better, thanks to Hermione’s massage. 

His mind wandered back to what he had dreamt the night before. If Dolohov had been able to send that spell verbally, Hermione would have been killed. His heartbeat rapidly at that. 

Young Hermione was a revelation. Of course, she had been precocious as a child. She had been bullied for it. Draco felt a little downcast at that knowledge. He'd been a smart ass too, but he had been lauded for it. He had felt what she had felt. They weren’t dreams. They weren't memories. He could only assume that he had temporarily gone back in time and had sort of possessed her body at the same time she was in it too. 

He thought of the Vortex and the power that had sent them back. It wasn't finished with them. That was clear. Draco wondered for a moment if this power was working against them but had to concede it had given them both a second chance. It was helping them in some way. He didn't yet understand the point of the visions. He didn't understand why it wanted them to walk in each other’s shoes. 

His childhood had been very different to Hermione’s. He had been centred and regarded as the little boss man in his group of friends. He had been pampered. His childhood friends had been chosen for him by his parents. He'd had tutors. He'd not attended an actual school until Hogwarts. Crabbe and Goyle, in particular, had been with him for most of his boyhood. Not for the first time did he think gratefully that Pansy had been with him. She at least challenged him growing up. 

A part of him was curious to see what else he would witness next in the visions. Hermione had always been on his radar since their first year. That had been for all the wrong reasons at first. The older they had got, the more he had studied her. She was living proof that the pureblood ideology he had been taught was seriously lacking in logic. He had resented her for that when he was younger. In time he had learnt to appreciate it. It gave him faith that his own doubts about Tom were, in fact, credible. When Death Eaters surrounded him, he only had to picture her face to give him strength in his convictions. He was right to doubt them. They were wrong. He had started to picture her face more and more in those bleak days at Malfoy Manor.

The more he learnt about her, the more he admired her. She never suffered fools. She always stood up for herself. Her handling of Rita Skeeter had thrilled him. His Slytherin side was developing the deepest respect for her actions.  

He pictured her in his mind. She had always shown ambition and cunning. Draco looked down at her hands as he flexed them. If she hadn’t been a muggleborn, she would have probably been sorted into the House of Serpents and been seen as an asset to Slytherin. She had a strength Draco didn’t know she had when he was younger. She had endured the horrors of the Horcrux hunt. She had stood by Harry’s side through it all. Her courage was off the scale. Her social skills were lacking, but no one was perfect, and her life experiences explained a lot of her responses to the way her situations twisted and turned for her.

Draco gave himself a wry smile as he thought of her. Now he was truly getting to know her; he was genuinely starting to like her.  

Draco’s mind flitted around the obvious fact he had tried to ignore in recent months. If Hermione had been a pureblood, he would have taken her home to meet his parents months ago. He frowned. Even if she had been a pureblood, she would have been repelled by his family's stance on blood status. She had thrown a fit about the treatment of the elves. She was very much about justice and fair play. 

Draco breathed out slowly. In a different world, a world without blood status and Tom Riddle, he had to acknowledge the truth to himself. She was everything his mother had told him to look for in a wife. Hermione wasn’t selfish. She wasn’t a jealous person. She wanted the best for her loved ones. She had put herself through Hell to protect them. 

She had a backbone of steel. She was prepared to use any means to achieve her aims. 

Draco ran his fingers through thick hair that lingered a little too long. He thought that his own hands running through this hair would feel heavenly. 

He clenched his jaw tightly. Not for the first time, he cursed the blood prejudice in their world. Everything would have been so much simpler without it. 

There was also the stumbling block that Hermione barely liked him. Without being in his own skin, he had no idea how to lay on the charm. He grimaced. Hermione didn’t seem one to be enamoured by superficial charm either. She was, after all, interested in Ron Weasley. The least charming man that Draco had ever encountered. 

Draco narrowed his eyes in contemplation as his mind sarcastically floated around the subject. 

Perhaps if he acted more like Ron did, that would turn her head. If he started insulting her, freezing her out, acting obnoxious, oh….. Draco’s mind came to a full stop. 

His fingers stroked Crookshanks, who stretched and then curled up into a ball. Hermione wanted to be challenged. She didn’t want a yes man. She wanted a man who knew his own mind and could debate with her. Draco gazed at the drapes. Her logical mind had read Ron all wrong. 

Hermione didn’t want a weak man. She had mistaken Ron’s aggression and appetite for constant arguments with her as signs he had a strong character. Draco mulled this over in his mind. 

Hermione had woefully mistranslated Ron’s unrelenting inner conflict of self-induced, unnecessary drama. 

Petty arguments over nothing engineered by Ron had manipulated her own instincts. He had tried to make her second guess her own mind. Even when he was wrong, he tried to make her feel guilty. That was why it was him who gave her the silent treatment over his imagined slights by her as if he was the one terribly wounded. Draco also suspected Ron had a very sly side that had very carefully planted the seeds of excuses to make people tiptoe around him and be very careful with how they reacted to him. Ron's infamous insecurities. Draco sneered at that. Were all insecure people that spiteful and reckless with their friends? Did they insult them and then walk out on them when it actually was a matter of life and death? 

Ron clearly felt overshadowed by Hermione. His petty outbursts against her screamed it. Draco didn’t understand that. His own parents took pride in each other. His own father had always been supportive of his mother since Draco could remember. 

It had been conflicting as a boy to see how much his father could change when he was with her. He had always stood that little bit taller with Narcissa by his side. He always seemed happier with her. His own mother had got his father through that nightmare during the diabolical Tom era. If not for Tom interfering with the time travel, they would have happily grown old together in a Tom free world. 

Draco thought of his parents. If everything in the future transpired that both Draco and Hermione needed to happen, would they think differently of Hermione? His fingers stroked Chrookshanks back to soothe himself. 

Perhaps. Draco sighed. He remembered his earlier vow to himself. If he survived this and at the end of this war only had the clothes on his back, he would start again. 

He loved his parents. But. He wanted a grand future with a strong wife. He wanted children of his own. He wanted to raise them in a safer world than he had grown up in. Family was everything to him. They could disown him if he chose that path of not marrying a pureblood. 

Draco gulped at that thought. Would his parents turn their backs on him if he pursued Hermione? What if Hermione were ever to return those feelings? Draco felt his heart sink at the potential destiny they would all have. For a time, his family would most definitely cast him out. Eventually, they would return to him. The overwhelming need to see their grandchildren and only son would make sure of that. His parents would eventually come back to him. Blood meant everything to them.

Draco sighed at the implications of this future he was imagining. Their grandchildren would be half-bloods. Could he really do that to them? To destroy their legacy would change their family beyond recognition in the eyes of the Wizarding World. Did love like that actually exist? 

Draco sighed out loud with irritation at his daydreams. This was all Hermione’s hormones causing this irrational thinking. There were too many ifs. Draco was overthinking all this. 

Hermione would most probably laugh in his face if he even suggested going on an actual date with her. His parents would be horrified at the implications. No. Draco felt himself relax. No. This was just his hormones acting up. 

Too much would be in disarray.

He leant back and thought again of Hermione going face to face with Dolohov. 

His face broke out into a grin as he recalled that vision. ‘What a woman,’ Draco said gently and with some admiration. 

He pictured himself ten years older. He was walking with Hermione in the park and two young children. They would be playing on the swings as some nefarious individual began to lurk. The moment Hermione detected a threat, then, BOOM! Her wand would whip out. 

Draco pictured the ominous threat dealt with within a second. The lurker would be hurled back from whence he came as Hermione would then casually turn back to the children and continue to swing them. 

‘Draco. I’ve allowed thirty minutes of playtime; then the children must return to their lessons. I have scheduled us for a romantic meal at 19:00 hours precisely,’ she would say in that cool, clear voice of hers. 

Draco smirked. Their home would be even more ordered than his own had been at Malfoy Manor. The children would be raised correctly and with precision. Draco would spend a great deal of time with them whilst Hermione climbed up the ladder at the Ministry. 

It would signal a new age in the Wizarding World. Draco gazed into space. With Draco on one arm and Harry Potter on the other, the previously locked doors to muggleborns would swiftly open for her. She would make the changes needed in the Ministry so never again would another Tom blight their world. 

He gave a rueful smile. It was a pipe dream. Hermione barely tolerated him. If not for this body swap they wouldn’t even be talking as they were. Crookshanks nuzzled into his palm as Draco scratched under his chin, eliciting a loud purr of appreciation.

Mr and Mrs Malfoy. Hermione Malfoy.

Draco closed his eyes as he pictured that in his mind.

He wallowed for a long moment in that strangely soothing image as a deep sigh of resignation filled him.  

It was just a silly, estrogen filled dream. They might not even change back.

Draco thought of the practical conclusion of attempting a relationship with each other in their current forms with a plummeting sensation. 

He was rather proud of his looks. He was in good shape but not once had he thought about himself in that way. There was narcissism, but that was on a whole new level. 

He also doubted very much that Hermione would be attracted to herself either. 

He sighed out loud. 

It was just bloody hormones that were making him think such ludicrous thoughts. Hermione was simply Hermione. His companion on this most wretched of journeys. They would change back and then they would go their separate ways. All the stress was simply making him think deeper than he needed to. He and Hermione would never happen. 

A little part of his tummy felt dismal at that prospect. 

The next day in the library found both Draco and Hermione researching even more notable muggleborns. Draco was enjoying this project immensely now.

In the midst of their quiet study, Hermione gave a small gasp. The sneakoscope was lighting up. 

‘Look pissed off,’ she muttered quickly as Draco watched his own face frown. 

He adopted a surly expression. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the unmistakable hair of Pansy through the gap in the library shelves. 

‘Shit,’ Draco muttered. ‘I knew it. She’s onto us.’ 

‘She could just be using the library,’ Hermione whispered back. 

Draco gave her a look of concern.’ This is Pansy. I bloody knew it. I knew if anyone were to figure something was up, it would be her.’ 

Hermione leant back and arrogantly crossed her legs. 

Draco was right. Pansy was a naturally suspicious person at the best of times. Hermione had tried her best to emulate Draco, but she had to admit, that Pansy knew him best. 

The sneakoscope gave a little spin for a few more moments as they both held their postures and pretended to be continuing with their project. Hermione made sure she looked suitably sullen. 

Draco gave her a few smug looks as he pointed at things in the book as Hermione would scowl at him. 

Eventually, the sneakoscope went still. 

They stared at each other. 

‘How do we make her not suspicious?’ Hermione asked. 

Draco gritted his teeth. ‘It’s not possible. She will not rest until she knows the truth.’ 

Hermione paled. 

‘She’ll have to have her suspicions,’ Draco admitted. 'You just have to avoid her as much as possible. Don’t get too sloppy with the invisibility cloak.’ 

‘Can’t I just drop some hints that this mission is affecting me?’ Hermione asked. 

Draco contemplated this. ‘I don’t want Pansy knowing anything about that. I’ve been ordered, well, you have, to be silent to anyone whose parents are not in his inner circle. Only Crabbe and Goyle know. Pansy could be at risk if Tom finds out she knows anything.’ 

‘What about using the original plan. Would she believe you and I were together?’ 

Draco gazed at her steadily. ‘Perhaps. Maybe. No. Shit. No. Not after everything. We’re always honest with each other. She wouldn’t believe that I’d keep something like that from her.’

Hermione sighed. ‘We keep doing what we’re doing. Worst case scenario, we apply a memory charm.’ 

Draco grimaced at that. 

‘Look, we can’t tell her the truth. If we tell her one thing, then the whole lot unravels. In the nicest possible way, it wasn’t until next year that Pansy saw sense about what Tom and his followers truly were. Right now, she’s naive. In her head, she’s where you were two years ago. She thinks Tom is all about elegance and the old ways. Her father isn’t in the inner circle, but he’s maybe close enough to some of them to be vulnerable. One slip and her father would be dragged to Tom personally. Who’s to say she wouldn’t tell her father about this?’ 

‘She wouldn’t,’ Draco said in a determined tone.

Hermione lifted her eyebrow. ‘What if Tom got hold of her? What if Tom reads her mind? Tom can see in Harry’s mind. Any suspicions, and he wouldn’t hesitate to break the Parkinsons. What would Pansy do to protect her family? Look at what you put yourself through.’ 

Draco stared at her then. 

‘You know I’m right,’ Hermione said softly. ‘Look, I was prepared to do that to Harry. I hated it, but this is about much more than ethics at this point. It’s about us surviving. I mean for as many of us to survive this as possible, and you and I need to use any means necessary to ensure that.’

Draco looked at her with admiration. ‘You would have made a magnificent Serpent, Granger.’ 

Hermione halted her expression at that. ‘That is dubious praise indeed,’ she said eventually. 

Draco smiled at her. ‘It is praise. It’s intended as praise. Nothing dubious about it.’ 

Hermione gave him an uncertain smile. ‘I suppose. Thank you then.’ 

There was a moment of quiet. 

‘What you did for Luna and the others took courage,’ Hermione mumbled. ‘You would have done all right in Gryffindor.’ 

Draco grinned broadly. ‘That is very high praise indeed from the Lioness herself. I’ll take it. Thank you.’ 

Hermione’s face broke into a smile at this strange but nice conversation. 

‘I think we both have a little of the other Houses in us,’ Draco said in a quiet voice. 

Hermione nodded softly at that. 'I think you're right.' 

Draco leant forward. It was time to broach the vision subject. 

Hermione watched him curiously. 

'Hermione. I've started to have the same type of visions you've been having. I've dreamt I've been you when you were younger,' he told her. 

Hermione took a deep breath to prepare. 'Tell me about them.' 

Chapter Text

It was later that same night that Hermione sat in her room and truly began to consider a great many things. 

Draco had told her about his dreams. He hadn't lingered on the incident in the playground. He understood people didn't want to dredge up unpleasant moments in their life like that. Hermione had quietly confirmed it was authentic. That moment had actually happened. 

Somehow their souls were time travelling back in the timeline to enable them to witness each other's life. Hermione had been surprised at how impressed Draco had been with her standing up to Dolohov. He was looking at her differently. There was genuine approval in his eyes when he complimented her bravery. There had been a definite shift in how he was acting with her. 

Hermione could ruefully admit to herself that, based on her previous antics and escapades, Slytherin house would potentially have been an ideal house for her if not for the blood issue. This truth seemed to be the great leveller to Draco. He had found something in her he could relate to. Something they had in common. 

Hermione stared at Draco in the mirror. Grey eyes stared back at her in a solemn fashion. She pulled her lips into a smile that made those eyes crinkle up at the side. This was what she liked to look at. She had manipulated Draco's facial muscles into a variety of expressions over the time she had been in his body. This was her favourite. She could see in her own face Draco smiling more at her too. 

He was especially enjoying this project. She had known for years that he was studious, but she hadn't expected the enthusiasm he had for acquiring knowledge. She had never quite been able to merge those two facets of Draco in her mind. Bully boy and also academic. It seemed such a conflict of character traits. 

He was more than keeping up with her. He was delving into books with gusto to acquire any snippet of information he could find. He had told her he was genuinely fascinated by the history of the Wizarding World. From the way she saw brown eyes light up at obscure pieces of information he found, she had no reason to doubt him. He had never sought out this information before, and he was borderline obsessive with what he could find out. 

He was diligent with his approach. Methodical with how he calibrated the information they found. Hermione found his energy infectious. His little gasps at finding out all the muggleborns had accomplished over the centuries seemed to galvanise him. The wars they had fought in and the potions and spells they had invented were added carefully to the growing pile of pages. 

Hermione understood his motivation. Malfoy didn't like to be wrong. He had defied the Dark Lord because of what he had been feeling about the fraudulent ideology. To have the confirmation in front of him in black and white that blood status wasn't relevant was vindication to him. 

She ran a finger over his jaw as she contemplated who Draco actually was. It had been hard to separate this Draco from the younger version at first. She had only seen the worst of him for years. It was becoming clear that under the surface was actually a decent man. He had strong morals in some areas. 

She wondered how this project would have proceeded if it had been Ron partnered with her. Hermione sighed. It wasn't fair to compare them. 

Or was it? Maybe she hadn't compared Ron enough to other people. 

There were similarities between Ron and Draco. Both were pureblood. Both had been raised in the Wizarding World from birth. Neither had much of a clue about the muggle world. Except it was clear now that Draco was willing to learn, whereas Ron had never shown much interest in the world she had grown up in. 

Hermione pondered Ron and how he would have approached this project. He would have grumbled. Then slept. Then grumbled some more and then found excuses why he couldn't attend the study sessions. Eventually, he would have resentfully copied out, word for word, a generic page about Merlin from one of the books and would have placed it with a heavy sigh on her desk, lamenting all the time and effort it had taken him. Hermione would have been expected to do the rest.

Ron would have given her that benevolent smile and told her she was good at writing and stuff as a way to placate her. Then he would have basked in the praise when the finished project was graded. Any criticism that Ron hadn't perhaps pulled his weight would have been greeted with anger, resentment, and a woe is me attitude that people were always trying to put him down. If that didn't work, then he would have thrown a pity party about how useless he was. Then all would be forgiven. Then Ron would turn it around and sulk because people had been unreasonably rude to him, and he was so neglected.

Hermione would have been made to apologise to him if she wanted the silent treatment to stop. Draco's words about Ron still wouldn't leave the back of her mind. In fact, they were very much creeping up to the front of her consciousness. 

Hermione stared again at Draco. He had more than pulled his weight with her. The chapters he had written were fact-driven but flowed well with his own personal analysis. With her considerable output combined, they had already completed the bulk of the historical figures in history. 

Draco had been attentive to her. He wanted her opinion on his articles. He actually listened to her advice. It was an incredibly novel experience for Hermione to have this level of respect shown to her. She, in turn, found herself asking for Draco's opinion on her chapters. 

He would suggest ways to improve. He showed her ways to input more emotion into her pieces to help personalise them. 

Ron’s abject laziness reverberated in her mind. She had felt her eyes drift over to him from time to time in class. He was starting to look very different to her now. She couldn’t quite define it, but she felt a growing gulf between them. Her natural physical attraction to him was certainly on the wane. In her own body, she would have felt her heart thump a little quicker when he arrived in class. She would have felt that pull towards him. In Draco's body, she felt nothing like that. There was no physical reaction to his presence like before. It was changing the way she was looking at him. She was finally able to be objective. 

She considered Ron’s laziness and inability over the years to support her in anything. His expectations of her needing to be flawless and doing all the work while he farted about on the Quidditch pitch and gorged himself rattled in her thoughts.  

Would that be their marriage? Would she be expected to support him emotionally and financially while he lived his life in first gear and then criticised her endeavours from the comfort of the couch? Would she spend an entire day at work, then deal with the child care, then cook for Ron, then clean the house whilst he sat on the couch napping? Would he then give her a few compliments in order to get a shag off her at the end of the day and then throw a tantrum if she was too exhausted to comply? 

When she failed to meet his unrealistic expectations of motherhood and being a wife, would his anger and resentment toward her always be there? 

How many times would he storm out on her when things weren’t perfect?

The image of Lucius supporting Narcissa came into her mind. Would Ron sit with her for hours when she had cramps? Would he give her a massage? Take over the chores for that day and whisper comforting words to her? 

She had to ruefully admit to herself that wouldn’t happen. Any attention he gave her would be done with mild annoyance. He’d roll his eyes, pat her on the back and then ask when she was getting his dinner ready. She frowned. She’d even started doing his washing when they were staying at the Burrow. When did that start?

Ron had lamented he wasn’t great with cleaning spells. Would Hermione be marvellous and help him? Ron had asked that in his nice voice. He had so much to do. It was strange how marvellous Hermione was at doing things Ron didn’t want to do. Like his school work. Like his washing. Like organising everything for the Hunt. Like the cooking. It was interesting how very quick he was to criticise her if the responsibilities he'd passed onto her weren't done to his exact specifications.  

It had turned out Ron’s idea of having too much to do was laying on his bed in the Burrow and sleeping. Occasionally he would eat. The light chores Molly had set them to prepare the Burrow for the wedding were greeted with laborious whining as if she had sent them to work on the chain gang. 

Not one word of sympathy had passed his lips when she had been wearing the Horcrux. There hadn't been one cuddle to support her. Not one word of encouragement. She'd tried to support him, but his cranky, aggressive words to her had made her back off. His habit of kicking chairs in the tent had made her wary of him. His constant questions about what they were going to do next, while offering no answers himself, all came flooding back to Hermione. Harry and she had gone over what they knew time and time again. Trying to find a clue somewhere in the mess while Ron would loudly yawn sarcastically, broadcasting his disappointment in their failure to ascertain for definite a lead. 

Hermione felt another twinge of anger towards Ron and his behaviour on the Hunt. If Draco was right and Ron's remorseful behaviour to her when he returned had all been for show and Ron dropped the act, would that man on the Horcrux Hunt be the real man she would truly be married to for the rest of her life? When she considered all of his behaviour over the years, she had to admit to herself that it was certainly a possibility. 

If she had children, what would their birth be like? She couldn't help the image of her enduring labour as Ron sat by the bed with a bored expression on his face as the doctors and nurses all helped Hermione bring a new life into the world. 

'Can I get a cushion?' Ron would inappropriately ask the Midwife. 'My back is a bit stiff from all this sitting down.' 

Hermione could be crowning at the time, but Ron wouldn't be bothered by something like that. His comfort was paramount. 

She could imagine being in recovery from the birth as Ron would ask her to budge up on the bed because he wanted a proper nap. Maybe he'd go one step further and move her onto a chair whilst he got to sleep in her hospital bed. Perhaps he would just leave her alone to sleep in his own bed. Hermione shook her head. Ron wouldn't be that selfish. Would he? She was starting to have tiny doubts. What would their wedding day be like? 

Would Ron show up late, then get shit faced and ruin their wedding day because, after all, it was just another day to him and since when should he be expected to make any sort of effort for her? Hermione felt her heart sink. She wanted to tell herself that she was exaggerating. She had to ruefully admit to herself that all these potential scenarios were actually more than plausible.  

Draco was an all-out Slytherin. Ron had always called every last one of them evil incarnate and cowards. Ron was always subtlety judgemental about anyone who deviated from the standard witch or wizard. He'd been dismissive about the Elves. Remus and Hagrid had been treated very cautiously by him. Harry’s adamant stance to not judge anyone on anything other than character had stopped Ron from verbalising what he thought too much. Still, there had always been subtle negative comments. 

Draco had been just the same when he was young. Life had changed him. Draco had been man enough to admit he had been wrong with his beliefs. 

Draco’s changes were sincere. Ron had never once admitted he was wrong. 

Ron had accused all of the Slytherins of cowardice. Severus had gone up against Tom. Narcissa had defied Tom. Draco had disobeyed him. Professor Slughorn had stood with the light side at the battle. A lot of Tom's Slytherin followers had fought in the battle. She despised them, but they had fought against Auror's and put their own lives on the line. Their motivations were horrendous, but cowards ran from battle. Not to it. 

It was odd then that it had been Ron to be the one to run away from them when they most needed him. His motivation for abandoning them was in his deluded mind; he suspected, based on no evidence whatsoever, that Harry and Hermione fancied each other. 

What if they had fancied each other? What would have been so bad about that? Ron had never asked her out. He had never told her he cared for her. He hadn’t even once attempted to kiss her. As far as Hermione was concerned, Ron had made it crystal clear he wasn't sure what he saw her as at that stage.

Hermione huffed sarcastically. Nothing made her feel so wanted as a man who seemed half-assed whether he wanted to be with her or not. He was clearly weighing up the pros and cons of whether she was worth his attention or not. 

Ron had used his jealousy and angst to storm off when he had made no commitment to her at all. He had acted as if he owned her, and she’d betrayed him. He'd accused Harry of being a traitor too. 

Hermione wracked her brain for a positive. Ron had been good with thinking of the Basilisk fangs. That had been useful. Although the cup could have been destroyed later in the Room of Requirement with the Diadem. He’d gone with them to Gringotts. He’d been upset when she was getting tortured by Bellatrix. Hermione bit her lip. Any friend would have been upset by that. A stranger would have been upset to witness that. 

She was struggling to think of any more positives of life with Ron. 

Draco had angered her in the past, spouting his parent’s words at her. He had been a stupid boy then. He’d matured. 

He was helping her with Tom now. He was genuinely impressed by her. Of what she had overcome. Her bravery. 

Hermione looked down at his pale hands. The Slytherin ring glittered up at her. Draco was ambitious. He worked hard. He had courage too. 

Hermione ran her hands down silk pyjamas gently. How was it that a Slytherin had made her feel more valuable in a few days than Ron ever had? 

She looked again at a face that was starting to become more familiar to her than her own.

Draco had seen all sides of her over the years. This went vice versa. They were beginning to see even more of each other. The good and the bad. Draco told it like it was. He didn’t pull any punches with her. He praised her when she deserved it. He was honest with her when she needed it. 

She ran her fingers over his cheekbones as a thought permeated her mind. 

How was it Draco made her feel that she was more than enough, just as she was? 

Ron loved her. Didn’t he? 

They were getting along with each other, but they had been forced together. They were making the best of things due to circumstances. 

Hermione’s mind was going into dark places. That a Slytherin was making her feel more secure than Ron ever had was sending many warning bells to her mind. Was she so lacking in genuine affection from Ron that even Draco Malfoy seemed a better option? Had she truly hit the bottom of the barrel and not realised it? 

Even with everything going on she felt lighter talking to Draco. He'd made her smile more than a few times. 

Ron never did that with her. He always made her feel that she should try harder.

Draco and she were growing closer. This had been inevitable. You couldn't live in each other's bodies and lives and not change your thinking about the person you were living in. She thought of when he had knocked on her door for comfort. She hadn’t hesitated to help him. Just like Draco was showing her consideration. He may have been a little brutal about her original wardrobe. Again, that was honesty from Draco. She was beginning to know exactly where she stood with him. It was refreshing after all the mind games from Ron over the years. 

They were starting to feel like an actual team. Draco was treating her very much like an equal. He came to her for help if he needed it. The implication from Draco was clear. She could come to him when she needed him. He had already told her she could talk about what she wanted with him. 

Hermione’s eyes looked down and lingered at Draco's full lips as she felt her heart rate spike. She had just given herself the look. 

She stared again at his face. She thought again of the times she would sit with her own body in the library and how animated Draco would become. She would see her own face light up and smile at her. 

If they were to change back, would she want this face in front of her kissing her? 

She looked again at grey eyes. She didn't want to say no. 

It was with this unsettling thought that she climbed into bed. 

She gazed up at the ceiling. Being practical, they could never happen. Even if Draco were to develop those sorts of feelings for her he would never oppose his parents.

But he had opposed them. At Malfoy Manor, he had stood firm. His father had been putting on the pressure, but Draco hadn’t buckled. 

The thought went through her mind that Draco could only be pushed so far. In a world where Tom no longer existed and they were free from all this madness, would she be interested in him? 

Hermione’s logical mind rapidly went through all the variables. 

Ron was insecure. She didn’t want to compromise herself or her intellect to placate him when he showed no ambition to improve himself. Ron would still chip away at her, bit by bit. She thought of Draco’s words. Was what she and Ron had together really that unhealthy? 

Draco seemed to think so. He had no reason to lie to her. He could have just steered clear of Ron this year and kept his mouth shut, but he had chosen to address the issue head-on with her.  

Hermione had ambition. If Tom was defeated, she hoped her best years were still in front of her. She needed a partner who would encourage her. A man who would stand by her through the good and bad times. She wanted someone who wouldn’t immediately get tired of discussing reforms and politics with her. 

She needed someone who wanted to change this world for the better. Draco wanted a better world. If and when Tom was defeated, did Ron actually want to change this world?

The more she considered him, the more she had to assume he did not. He was judgemental. The status quo never seemed to bother him. The only time she’d seen him react to a blood slur was when Draco had called her a mudblood, and since when did Ron ever need a reason to fight with Draco? 

Would Ron be interested in her work, or would he just doze off when she mentioned it? What did they actually have in common except for magic and Harry? Would he just do that wry look and give that sardonic smile when she gave one of her passionate rants?

‘Someone make it stop,’ Ron would say in that silly voice of his. Insinuating it was just funny banter, but alluding to much more. 

Make her stop talking about what mattered to her. Ron didn’t care, so in his opinion, Hermione shouldn’t care either. 

His long rants about Quidditch teams would have to be indulged and respected, though. 

He had spoken of being an Auror when he was older. Being pragmatic, Hermione had to wonder how long that ambition would last?

Aurors were disciplined. The job could be demanding. He might apply. He might even complete training. How long would he endure that way of life? A year? Two?

How soon before he ended up taking the easy life and helping out Fred and George at the joke shop? They’d give him a job. The Weasleys stuck together. How soon before the twins got tired of him napping in the stock room when there was work to be done? 

The joke shop was the twin’s dream. Harry had given them the start-up fee from his Tri-Wizard tournaments winnings. Harry had wanted some good to come out of the whole ordeal. They’d worked hard and had built up a successful business. The one act of defiance in Diagon Alley. 

Draco had accused Ron of using Harry and Hermione to carry him. Was that true?

Ron had been given the same opportunities as all of them had at Hogwarts. He wasn’t stupid. He played chess well, but his blase attitude towards his studies told Hermione a great deal. There was no real sense of urgency to Ron. He had a brain, but he could rarely be bothered to use it. 

There would always be someone to look after him. Someone to carry him. He was the youngest son. Ron had always focused on the negatives of growing up in a big family. His greatest gripe was the hand me downs. He had gone on and on about that for years. He had too many older brothers. He had consistently lamented this great woe of his life to an orphan boy and an only child. 

Hermione felt a sudden sick sensation rise in her throat at this realisation. Ron had complained about having too large a family to an orphan. The fact that Harry had inherited some money from his murdered parents somehow, in Ron’s mind, justified that constant complaining of poor Ron’s horrendous childhood. All Ron had growing up was shelter, food, clothing, warmth, education and love from his family. Poor little Ron.  

Harry grew up neglected and despised for breathing by his so-called caregivers. He had grown up without love and cuddles, and he'd also been dressed in hand me down clothes. He'd never even had proper toys to play with. Hermione remembered how skinny Harry was when he started at Hogwarts. How thin he was when he returned after the summer holidays to Hogwarts. Yet somehow, Harry didn’t bleat on and on about his childhood every five minutes. 

Neither Ginny nor the Twins had ever complained about the lack of funds their family had. They knew they were lucky in other ways. 

How did she not make the connection? 

'You’re like a straight road. Face forward. Destination chosen. You barge ahead and pay no attention at all to the scenery.’ 

Draco had pointed out some very uncomfortable truths to her that she had been willfully ignoring for a very long time. 

With Death Eaters after her, her main thought had been survival. They had all known what the future had in store for all of them. By the end of their fourth year, Ron had known for sure Riddle was back. 

Knowing that time was running out, he’d turned his back on her twice in those last two years. She’d been so angry and so grateful both times he’d returned to her. Was he conditioning her to accept this behaviour as normal and acceptable? 

‘Be good to me, or I’ll leave you.’

But she had been good to him, and he’d still left her. 

For the first time in a long time, she truly had time to think properly. She was in no immediate danger, unlike before. Her sleep had been mangled for months. The constant fear of what they would do to her if they caught her was never far from her mind. 

The fact was Ron had left her to fend for herself for most of it. 

In the last two years or the future two years, she’d probably only spent five months actually on speaking terms with Ron. As Draco had said, he had been acting on his best behaviour when he’d returned to the Horcrux. He’d also been on his best behaviour after Lavender. For a short time. He’d held her at Dumbledore’s funeral. 

He’d done what any friend would have done. 

Had she truly been seeing the real Ron at those quiet times? 

The more distance Hermione had from Ron, the clearer she was seeing Draco’s words had more than an element of truth to them. 

Ron was no longer there to confuse her with his capricious behaviour. The occasional kind word thrown in amongst all the caustic comments wasn’t enough for her anymore. 

She had high standards. This was no secret. She was accused of nagging, but only really by Ron. Watching someone constantly do the bare minimum aggravated her. 

The thought crossed her mind that not once had she needed to nag Draco to do anything. It was him that was meeting her halfway. If anything, he had been stronger than her at times. They were supporting each other in their own ways. 

He was trying. She didn’t need to prompt him. He had taken this most extreme of situations and had kept as steady as anyone could do under the circumstances. 

She couldn’t help but compare them. If she and Ron had been the two to swap over, what would have happened?’ 

Hermione gulped at the scenario that was being painted in her head. Ron would have given the game away immediately. He would have wailed at all the injustice to anyone within earshot. They’d have most certainly been transported to St. Mungoes. Then, because of who they were, the news would have gotten back to Riddle. They would have been captured and then questioned by Death Eaters under torture for what they knew and then assasinated. 

Deep in her heart, she knew that Ron would have somehow found a way to blame her for that. 

Hermione huffed. There she went again. She was getting as bad as Draco. Always thinking the worst of Ron.

She turned over in bed and tried to recollect the good times with Ron. 

When her brain couldn’t conjure one up, she resorted to counting sheep.

It wasn’t long before she was asleep. 

Harry was in Kings Cross Station again. Like before, it was deserted. He sat back down and enjoyed the calm. In this place, his problems seemed so far away. His body was relaxed, and he felt soothed and calm. 

‘Welcome, Harry Potter,’ came an ethereal voice. 

Harry’s eyes spun around in shock. There was no one there. 

‘What?’ he spluttered. ‘Whose there?’ 

‘Eternity,’ came the distant voice. 

Harry’s head was craning to look, but he could see nothing. 

‘Huh?’ Harry gawped in confusion as the white mist began to fall. 

The voice seemed to caress him as Harry felt pleasurable chills rush through him. 

‘The truth will be revealed to you with just one kiss with the one you crave, Harry.’

He looked around in earnest, but there was no one anywhere. 

'One kiss to protect your mind always from the Dark Lord.' 

Harry gawped at these words. 

'You are the Master of Death. You have been given a second chance. Remember always to trust the Traitor.' 

The voice was becoming fainter as Harry's emerald eyes spun in every direction for the source of these confusing words.  

'Wait, what? The Master of Death? What do you mean?' Harry pleaded as the white mist covered him and Kings Cross Station disappeared. 

Harry felt himself sinking into nothingness as the darkness enveloped him and his eyes became heavy.  

It was several hours later when Hermione sat up in bed in a sweat. Her blood was thundering through her with the most almightly ache in a place she had desperately been trying to ignore for days.

She had awakened from a rather saucy dream involving Draco, Hannah Abbott and a broom cupboard. 

Hermione was gritting her teeth as she made her way to the shower. 

She would never again look at Hannah the same way. Hermione had considered her a demure, prim, well-ordered student before this night. 

‘A Hufflepuff taking a walk on the wild side. How delicious,’ Draco had murmured into Hannah’s ear as Hannah responded in a husky tone. 

'Shut up, Malfoy. Just do what you do best. Wrap yourself around me, you snake.’

Hannah had kissed his neck and pushed into him firmly.  

Draco had responded with the same level of enthusiasm. 

The moans between the two of them were still echoing in Hermione’s ear. Somehow she had managed to wake herself up before it got too far. 

She knew at that moment that a cold shower wasn’t going to cut it. 

The water cascaded down freely as Hermione stood there and watched the hot water flow with a blank look on her face. She felt herself throb. 

‘It’s just biology,’ Hermione said out loud in a firm voice to herself.

The moment she had been dreading was upon her.

Nature would indeed need to take its course. 

If she put herself through one more cold shower, she was going to explode at some point. 

She’d been on edge for days. She was going to snap if she didn’t intervene. She feared for any potential victims. 

She was doing this with her eyes closed.

'Pull it together, Granger. You're a bloody Gryffindor,' she hissed out. 

With one hand on the tiled wall to steady her, the other hand tentatively moved down.

Hermione gently touched flesh. 

An unseemly, guttural moan passed her lips. 

This was primal. This was turbulent.

Hermione explored further as pressure built and swirled around her. 

Fuck. This was so good.

Her eyes rolled back into her head. 

It was much later and with a beaming smile that Hermione eventually collapsed back on the bed, gratified and satisfied. Her entire body was relaxed for what felt like the first time in months.

Maybe even years. 

Sheer elation pulsated through her. She’d got through it. 

She gazed into the night with a relieved smile. 

For the first time in ages, she could see clearly. 

Hermione wrapped Draco’s arms around her and cuddled herself. It had been grey eyes she’d pictured in the shower.  

Ron hadn’t crossed her mind once. 

Meanwhile, as Hermione basked in a boneless mess, Draco was sleeping soundly. 

He was back in Hermione’s past.

He was the belle of the ball as Viktor Krum lifted her as they spun around the room. He felt Hermione’s happiness. 

He felt her playful side. Viktor was the consummate gentleman. It was striking to Draco how much fun Hermione was having with Viktor compared to the tears and anger Ron elicited from her.

Draco made a mental note of this. Hermione loved to dance. A lot. He could feel her joy pulsating through him. This was a side of her he'd only glimpsed in the past. A side of her that had been consistently repressed because of the war and Ron. 

Draco wondered if Ron had ever asked her to dance. Probably not. 

Draco looked at Viktor's smiling face. This was a man who, by Hermione's admission, she liked, just not enough to marry him. Draco wondered how she would dance with a man she was truly in love with. 

He caught a glimpse of himself dancing with Pansy. Everyone around them was enjoying themselves. The Yule Ball had been a hit. Draco had fond memories of it himself. 

He could make out Ron’s face glaring at them in the background. Draco knew what was coming. Ron couldn’t wait to rain on her parade. 

Draco saw it all. 

Ron had flooded her parade, in fact. Draco had observed him carefully. Ron’s disgruntled face. His accusations. His mean attitude. 

Draco couldn’t comprehend the level of spite he’d directed at Hermione. His venom was biting. He could feel Hermione's insides become hollow with actual pain. Ron was supposed to care about her. Why was he being like this? Why was he saying these things to her? 

Harry looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. 

Everything went by as Hermione had told him it had. 

Krum only wanted to get closer to Harry. Krum was using her. Draco could see the spittle coming out of Ron’s mouth at that verbal assault.  

Draco felt Hermione’s anguish. Ron accused her of helping Krum with the egg instead of Harry. He accused her of being a traitor to her best friend. Hermione hadn’t told him that part. Perhaps she had blocked it out. 

Draco noticed how Ron was always trying to make her out to be the bad guy. 

When Hermione eventually stormed off, Draco caught a glimpse of the anger and then the satisfaction on Ron’s face at how upset she was. In Ron's mind, he'd won the argument. He'd dragged her down. He was pleased he had the power to do that to her. 

Draco could feel how forlorn Hermione had felt at being spoken to like that by her so-called friend.  Draco hadn’t even seen vitriol like that between rowing friends in Slytherin House, and there had been plenty of hostile arguments in the House of Serpents over the years.

But not like that. Never like that. 

He was really starting to hate Ron Weasley. 

Chapter Text

Hermione woke up the next day feeling different. Lighter. She hadn’t realised just how tightly wound she had been. 

Draco’s body felt serene now. 

She had a laid-back air about her own self. She felt more virile. More assured.

By the time she reached her first class, she realised she hadn’t even had to think about putting the strut on. It had come naturally. 

Hermione realised she had achieved some sort of breakthrough the night before on several levels. The time and distance from her own life was proving to be very beneficial to her. She had begun to accept many truths about Ron. It had given her more of a sense of freedom than she had ever thought it would. 

Hermione was now not connected to Ron as anything more than friends. There had been no bird attack. No arguments. No sulking or recriminations. No silent treatments from Ron. No abandonment.

As far as anyone but Draco and the Headmaster was concerned, the future hadn’t happened yet. 

Ron was simply her friend at this point in time. No different to Neville and Harry. For the first time, Hermione was considering the fact it was perhaps better if nothing did happen between them. Her phobia of failure didn't actually apply to this situation. This wasn't an exam. This was her actual life.  

The Headmaster had passed her once in the corridor earlier that week and had given her a discreet wink. Hermione took this as good news. She had faith in him. Fate had erased the diabolical future. 

She felt a shiver of excitement go through her at this thought. The last time she had felt this sort of thrill was back in the fourth year when Viktor had danced with her. She felt optimistic. It was like a new feeling to her. Her future was now unwritten. 

Her eyes glanced over the room as Ron wandered into the room, chatting with Lavender. For the first time in months, Hermione felt nothing but a mild awareness of the situation. The irritation this image would have bought her in the past had gone. She merely felt a gentle acceptance of what she had learnt from Ron. There was no sense of urgency for her now with him. What would be, would be. 

Now she had time and nights of proper sleep to evaluate her predicament; the elusive answer she had been searching for was now finally staring at her in neon lights. 

She and Ron had always been shaky. They'd had some good times in the past, but the fact was they were better off as just friends. Too many things about them didn't work. She could see the warning signs in front of her if she was to pursue more than friendship with him. She had seen first-hand in the future the clashes they would have. They rubbed each other up the wrong way. Ron's tendency to fixate on problems that did not exist, combined with her more serious, direct nature, was going to cause a multitude of problems further down the road. 

She'd taken Draco's opinions on board. He had given her every negative opinion he had observed. She hadn't wanted to listen to it at the time, but she understood she had needed to hear it all.

Somewhere she was finding the middle ground within her own mind. She and Ron cared for each other as friends. They worked well as friends. Mostly. Even then, there had been bumps in the road. Hermione was finally making peace with that. She had seen a glimpse of the potential future with him, and with time to reflect on all that she knew now, much of it was leaving her feeling cold. 

Hermione was truly letting go of her original future. What lay ahead was now unwritten. Whether she was stuck in this body or not, then she was finally learning to accept things were changing. She’d thought for the longest time that without Ron in her future, the lights that led the way would be dull and dark without him. Instead, things didn't look bleak. The possibilities were endless, in fact. 

With renewed positivity, Hermione began to focus on her Charms with a soft smile. 

It was evening in the Gryffindor common room, and Draco couldn’t help the feeling he was being watched. He surreptitiously looked up from his book and then looked back down again. He'd had that feeling because he was indeed being watched. 

He’d felt these pair of eyes on him all day. 

Emerald eyes were gazing at him as if hypnotised.

Draco touched his hair self-consciously. Harry seemed mildly unhinged. 

The brief moment of eye contact had emboldened Harry to approach him. 

‘Hermione. I need to talk to you,’ Harry said so quietly that Draco had to strain to hear him. 

Draco watched those wide, eerie-looking eyes with a perplexed feeling. 

‘Are you alright?’ 

‘No. I am not alright. Please. I need to talk to you in private. This is important.’

Draco gave him a short nod and followed him out of the common room. 

Harry led them far away to an empty classroom. Draco watched him cautiously. Harry’s back was rigid. He hadn’t said a word to him so far. 

Draco took a seat as Harry locked the door and then went around the room and put up Muffliato charms. When he brought out a sneakosope, Draco became very concerned. Harry wasn’t fucking about here. 

Harry leant against a table and crossed his arms, and stared at Draco. 

‘What is it?' Draco asked quietly. 

‘What do you know?’ Harry asked. 

‘Lot’s of things,’ Draco responded. ‘You need to be a bit more specific.’ 

Harry hadn’t taken his eyes off Draco. 

‘Hermione. This may sound like a mad request, but I need to kiss you,’ Harry blurted out. 

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Pardon. I think I misheard you.’ 

‘I need to kiss you,’ Harry said in a low voice. ‘I know this sounds mental, but it's vital that you do this.’ 

Draco gawped at him. 

‘Look,’ Draco began as he tried to settle himself. He had prepared for Harry maybe putting a few moves on him. He knew how to deal with this. He would do it Hermione style.

Harry peered at him. 

Draco began in earnest. ‘I’m flattered that you find me attractive. However, I feel that you and I together in a romantic relationship would not be compatible. I see you as a brother. I love you like a brother. Not a lover.’ 

Harry had a range of conflicting emotions pass his face at this announcement. 

He eventually settled on a small smile. ‘I, er. Thank you. I love you too. I had thought of you like a sister to me for years as well. However, things have changed in the last few days.’  

Draco grimaced. ‘It’s the haircut, isn’t it? I knew I looked too good,’ he murmured. 

Harry winced. ‘At first. You caught my interest, but no. It’s more than that. I’ve been wanting to be close to you. It’s like I’m being pulled to you. I don’t know what’s happening to me. This isn’t like it was with Cho. This is something more.’ 

Draco gave him a gracious look. ‘Harry. I’m sure this will pass. It’s just a small crush. I shall not be encouraging it.’ 

Harry seemed to be willing himself to find inner strength. 

‘I need to have just one kiss. I need to know what these feelings mean.’ 

Draco was becoming a little impatient. This needed wrapping up and fast. Time to bring out the big guns. 

‘If you’re going to push this, then I feel I must be completely honest with you. I’m gay.’ 

Harry frowned. ‘No, you’re not.’ 

Draco tapped his foot dangerously. ‘Yes, I am.’ 

Harry peered at who he thought was Hermione. ‘You’re not gay. I saw you mooning over Lockhart. I saw what you were like with Krum. Can’t you just say you're bi and be done with it? Why are you saying you're gay for? Is this to put me off?’

Draco kept his lips straight at that news. That was an interesting revelation about Lockhart.

‘Please respect my sexuality. I was merely going through a phase. It’s very normal. I am a gay lady. I will never kiss a man in my life.’ 

‘Merlin. Why are you making this bollocks up for?’ Harry said in a slightly strained voice. ‘I need one kiss from you. Just as friends. No more than that. I won’t even use tongue, I promise. I’m not that bloody repellant, am I?’ 

‘I need a reason for this unusual request.'

Draco was getting a little nervous. Harry wasn’t walking away from this. 

‘I think all our fates may rely on this,’ Harry added with gravitas. 

Draco tutted. ‘My goodness. It’s absolutely true, isn’t it? Men really will say anything to get a snog.’ 

Harry paled. ‘One kiss. Please.' 

‘You’re beginning to sound like a sex pest,’ Draco said with derision. 

Harry gave out a big sigh. ‘I am not that guy. You, of all people, should know that.’ 

‘That’s exactly what a sex pest would say,’ Draco said with impudence. 

Harry clicked his tongue with impatience and exhaled loudly with annoyance.  

Draco stood up.

‘Now, if you’ve quite finished trying to get into my knickers, I’m leaving,’ he said in a typically brisk Hermione fashion. 

‘I’ve been having visions when I’m asleep,’ Harry said in a low voice. 

This made Draco's pulse rise immediately. He turned back around. 

‘What?’ he whispered. 

Harry shifted awkwardly. ‘My dreams. They’re not really dreams. I keep going to places that feel just as real as this does.’ 

‘What are these visions of?’ 

‘They’re weird. You’ve been there a couple of times. Although, in one, you’re older, and your hair has gone back to normal.’ 

‘What was I doing?’ 

‘In one vision, there was just you and I. We were in a tent. It was cold. I actually felt that. You were wearing a locket with a snake on it. You passed it to me. It felt evil.’ 

‘What else?’ Draco managed to get out. If Harry was dreaming of the original future, this could unravel everything.

‘I dreamt that Katie Bell was cursed by a necklace the other week on our trip to Hogsmeade, but she’s fine. It was like I was actually there. I don't understand why I'm seeing these things.’

Harry looked immensely relieved that Hermione was taking this seriously. 

Draco gently touched his wand. He really didn’t want to do this, but Harry was very close to getting a memory charm cast on him. 

Harry ran a hand through his black hair.

‘I’ve dreamt I’m in Kings Cross twice, but it’s empty. A voice spoke to me last night. It said it was Eternity and that I was the Master of Death. That I had a second chance. The voice told me to kiss the one I crave for the truth. It told me that my mind would be protected from Riddle if I did that.’ 

Draco’s eyes widened at this. 

‘You’re the one I’ve been craving to kiss,’ Harry whispered. ‘I dreamt about kissing you. Although, you’re eyes turned to grey in my dream.’ 

Draco couldn’t breathe at that. 

‘Eternity also told me to trust the Traitor,’ Harry said in a tight voice.

Draco stared at him. 

‘I thought at first that maybe Riddle was putting images in my head as he did with Sirius, but none of what I’m seeing benefits him. None of this is making any sense.’ 

Draco released his wand back into his pocket. 

‘We need to speak to Dumbledore,’ Draco said quietly. 

‘I don’t want to bother him. He’s already got enough on his plate.’ 

‘He will want to hear this. Trust me,’ Draco said in a stronger voice. 

Harry watched him cautiously. ‘What do you know? Why aren’t you questioning this?’ 

‘Not yet,’ Draco whispered as he turned his back.’ Don’t look at my face. He may be watching. Turn around and then follow me to Dumbledore’s office. There’s someone I need to contact.’  

Harry nodded as he stared at Hermione, who was waving her wand.  

He heard Hermione whisper something as he watched a Patronus galavant past him and out the room. 

Harry blinked. That didn’t look like Hermione’s Otter. It looked like a Dragon. He frowned. Remus had told him a Patronus could change form, but going from an Otter to a Dragon was a very big leap. 

Draco had a half-smile on his face as he watched his Patronus go to get Hermione. He’d always had issues conjuring one before. In this body, it was much easier. 

Harry heard the door unlock as a pale Hermione motioned to him to follow her. 

Harry ambled off after Hermione. She certainly knew something about these visions. She seemed very anxious about them. 

Harry followed her up the stairs and to the Headmaster's Griffin Door. 

The door opened quickly as Hermione more or less hustled him up the stairs with her eyes alert. 

‘Wait there one second,’ Harry heard Hermione whisper to him.

Harry was intrigued by all this subterfuge. 

Harry heard the distinct sounds of footsteps approaching Hermione, but he couldn’t see anyone. 

Hermione seemed to reach out for something and then smile. 

‘Upstairs, quickly. Keep hidden for now,’ Hermione said to empty space. 

Harry was getting increasingly curious now. 

‘Whose there?’ he asked her. 

‘Shh. I'll explain later,’ Hermione whispered to him as the Griffin Door shut. 

Harry knew not to argue with a Hermione shush. 

The Headmaster greeted them both with a genial smile. 

‘To what do I owe the pleasure to this visit?’ Albus asked them both with a curious expression. 

Harry listened as Hermione informed the Headmaster of everything that Harry had told her. 

The Headmaster’s jaw dropped. 

‘Goodness,’ he said as he turned to Harry. 

Harry shuffled on his feet. 

‘Are you sure Eternity told you you were the Master of Death?’ Albus asked Harry. 

Harry nodded. ‘I’m sure. But, I don’t know what that means.’ 

‘Are you absolutely sure you were told that one kiss would protect your mind always from Tom?’ Albus asked him gently. 

‘I’m sure. These visions are so clear. I remember them. Although most of the visions feel like a deja vu of sorts. It’s like I’ve lived them before. But I can’t have done. Can I?’ 

Blue eyes stared at Harry. ‘The voice said one kiss would be enough?’ 

Harry nodded as he blushed. 

‘The voice said it had to be with the one I crave. For the last week or so, I’ve wanted to kiss Hermione,’ Harry admitted in a quiet voice. ‘I dreamt of it too. Except Hermione’s eyes turned grey in the dream.’ 

Albus turned to Hermione, who was standing next to him with a variety of expressions fluttering over her face.

Harry watched as worry turned to angst, then to doubt and then resigned acceptance.

‘You must endure this,’ Albus said to Hermione in a sympathetic voice. ‘So much is at stake.’ 

Hermione looked wretched. 

Harry felt a little offended at this resistance of his friend.

‘Really, Hermione? I’m not that bloody ugly. Why all this distress over one kiss?’ 

‘It’s not that simple,’ Harry heard her murmur. 

Harry stared at her in confusion. 

‘Er, Harry. Things are not as they look,’ Albus said in a conversational tone. ‘Miss Granger is, well. Until you kiss, I’m afraid we cannot be completely honest with you.’ 

Harry gazed at them both with confusion. 

‘Er, Harry,’ Hermione said to him in a strangled voice. ‘If it weren’t for the fact that thousands of lives are relying on us to be strong, then I wouldn’t do this. Believe me; I am garnering no sense of fun from this. Just remember, it’s for the greater good.’ 

Harry nodded cautiously as he stared at Hermione with confusion. 

‘The changes in you,’ Harry said quietly. ‘It’s not just an image change, is it?’ 

He watched Hermione shake her head. 

‘When you know the truth, try not to go too ballistic,’ Hermione said to him. 

Harry was ogling her with supreme befuddlement.

‘I’ll try and keep calm,’ he murmured. He felt like he was in the Twilight zone.  

Hermione pulled her back straight. ‘Ok. It’s time to man up.’ 

Harry watched her close her eyes and pucker up. 

Albus watched with interest as Harry appeared to pull himself together physically.

Hermione was watching with an alert expression from under the invisibility cloak with her fingers crossed. 

If the Vortex was operating from the beyond and Harry had indeed somehow come back with them as part of the time travel, then this would make her life much better and increase their chances of success against Tom and his Death Eaters. She had always felt stronger with Harry next to her. 

She watched with an anxious expression at what was about to unfold. 

Harry leant forward with his eyes open and put his lips to Hermione’s. 

Albus and the actual Hermione watched in amazement as a white, clear bubble surrounded them both and then the colours from the Vortex she and Draco had travelled through began to swirl around and envelop them both. There was a high pitched noise that sounded like a sonic boom that echoed around them. 

Gold light surrounded Harry, who had gone as rigid as a statute. His emerald eyes were closed shut, as were Draco’s. 

Harry's mind was in the Vortex. He saw it all. Images swarmed into his mind. He saw those two years into the future. 

He remembered Tom and the Killing Curse. The light side had been frozen like statues as Tom decimated them. He remembered red eyes. 

The colours began to fade as the bubble dissipated, and silence descended. 

Harry pulled away from Draco, who was watching him with an anxious expression. 

Harry’s expression was quite rightly one of extreme gormlessness.

Albus led him to the couch as Harry’s shaky legs seemed on the verge of collapse. 

‘What do you remember, my boy?’ Albus asked him gently. 

Harry gazed up at him in shock. ‘All of it. You were killed on top of the Astronomy Tower. Snape. He's on my side. He loved my mum. You and he set it all up so he could get closer to Tom. The Horcruxes. The tent. Malfoy Manor. Gringotts. Riddle. We were so close. Then Umbridge played us. The time turner. Tom had replaced the Horcruxes with fakes.’ 

Harry had turned ashen as his mind recalled everything.

‘They killed so many of us. When he killed me, I left my body. I was less than a ghost, but I was still in the great hall. I saw what he did to you, Hermione. Everything was so crazy. The time travel. I was with you until the end. I was trying to protect you, but my hand kept going through you. It was like I was made of a sort of mist.'

Albus peered at Harry in deep contemplation. 

Hermione was watching under the cloak as her heart clenched. Even when he was dead, Harry had been trying to shield her. 

'I remember that Draco was there with us. Tom had turned on the Malfoys. He'd killed Narcissa because she told him I was dead. Lucius had been on borrowed time since the Ministry. Tom was going to send you and Draco to Azkaban to be tortured. Tom called him a Traitor.’ 

Draco watched Harry sombrely. 

‘The time turner that Tom was wearing,’ Harry breathed out. ‘It exploded. Your wands. They were going mental. I could see them shaking. How did this happen? I didn’t have a body. I was with you, Hermione. I was dragged across the room with you and Draco. Then the ground opened up, and I fell into a black hole. There were bright colours, and I felt everything spinning. I felt myself torn apart. I saw you and Draco merging into each other. Then I felt myself being drawn into you two. Then, nothing. I went into blackness. I don't remember anything after that.’

Albus inhaled sharply at this revelation.

‘You are truly the Master of Death,’ he whispered. 

Harry gazed at him. ‘I was the owner of the three Deathly Hallows by the time I met Tom in the Great Hall.' 

Albus nodded. 'This would explain the Vortex and why Eternity stepped in to help you. Not to mention Tom interfering with the original timeline. Yes. This is how this has all happened. Without a body, your memories must have been needed to be put inside a physical form for safekeeping.' 

Albus stared at Draco. The kiss had been needed to transfer the memories back to Harry. 

Harry had turned back to Hermione and was now gawping at her. 'Your eyes are grey, Hermione.'

Albus peered at Harry with a questioning look. 'You see grey eyes? I see brown.' 

Harry nodded vigorously. 'They're grey. Like Sirius's eyes were. Your eyes are still blue.' 

Albus spoke softly. 'Harry. When Draco and Hermione went into the Vortex, they did indeed merge with each other. They both awoke in each other's bodies. Draco is now Hermione, and Hermione is now Draco.' 

Harry didn't move a facial muscle. He had gone completely mute at this revelation. 

Draco was peering at Harry like he was about to explode. 

‘Miss Granger, you can come out now,’ Albus said. 

Hermione took the invisibility cloak off her as Harry’s eyes snapped towards what appeared to be Draco Malfoy. 

‘Oh, my fuck,’ Harry whispered as his eyes spun around the three of them.

Albus deigned to let the cursing go without comment. 

'It's true, Harry,' Hermione told him in a very gentle tone. 'We wanted to tell you, but with the connection you have to Tom, we decided not to. If Tom had known we came back from the future to sabotage him; there was no telling what he would do.' 

Harry seemed to accept that without his head popping off. He looked like he'd just stared into the Abyss.

He was staring at what looked to him to be Draco Malfoy. 'Your eyes are brown.' 

'The effects of the Vortex have allowed you to see the difference,' Albus told him. 

Hermione edged closer to him.

'It's me in here, Harry. It's Hermione. I'm in Draco's body.' 

Harry turned to Draco with a blank stare and then back again to brown eyes. 

'Has Malfoy been decent with you?' he asked in a low voice.

There was really no need to be subtle. Draco was standing right there. 

'Very,' Hermione said as she knelt down in front of him. 'Draco has been very decent with me. He's looked after me.' 

Draco shifted awkwardly at that unexpected compliment but felt a nice sensation go through him at the kind acknowledgement.

'Hermione has been very good to me too,' he said. 

Hermione gave him a sweet smile that he returned. 

Harry gave Hermione a brittle smile as he turned back to grey eyes. 

'Thank you, Draco,' he said stiffly. 

Draco stood awkwardly. This was a very different vibe from what he was used to. Now Harry knew the truth, there was potentially going to be a lot of discomfort. Still, it was better now that Harry knew everything. 

Harry took in several deep breaths as his face kept turning back and forth between them both. His jaw dropped in horror as his brain began to catch up. 

'Do you mean to tell me I've just kissed Draco on the lips?' he asked in a hiss. 

Draco paled. 'Thousands of lives are at stake.' 

Harry huffed as he ran his hands through messy black hair and gave a strangled sort of noise. 

Hermione watched as Harry seemed to force himself to look back up at them. 

'I have done many things for the good of the Wizarding World,' Harry managed to seethe out, 'but that has to be the most arduous thing I'll ever have to live with.' 

'Hey,' Draco snapped with a deeply offended tone. 'It wasn't a walk in the park for me either, Potter' 

Albus smirked in the background. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'It worked. You've got your memories back, Harry. Tom can't get in your head again. That's the main thing.'  

Harry gazed at her as he took this on board.

'No one must know,' Harry said to them all darkly. 

'Trust me,' Draco said in an equally dark tone. 'I won't be announcing it in the Daily Prophet.' 

'What happened in this room stays in this room,' Albus added with a small smile. 

Hermione sighed. 'It was one little kiss, guys. It's not the end of the world.' 

Harry pursed his lips as Draco flipped his hair and turned away. 

Hermione pushed away her own smirk. 

There was a quiet in the room as Harry turned again to the Headmaster with an expression of astonishment.

'This is by far the weirdest thing I've ever been a part of, and that takes some beating.' 

Hermione patted him on the shoulder as he looked at her. 

'It's best to focus on your eyes,' he told her. 'I can see you in them.' 

Hermione smiled at him.

'The blond will take a while to get used to,' he added with a matter of fact tone. 

A calm lull descended on the room as they each took in the enormity of what had transpired. 

Harry gazed at Draco. ‘I’m sorry about your parents. I knew Tom was a monster, but that was beyond anything I could have believed him capable of doing. He was going to torture you in Azkaban because you helped me.’ 

Draco gave him a short nod. 'We're going to change that fate.'  

‘Tom called you a Traitor,’ Harry spluttered out. 

Draco met his eyes. 'I am a Traitor. I make no apology for it. I want Tom gone, and I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to do that.' 

Harry's emerald eyes sparkled with that announcement. His mind remembered what the voice told him about trusting the Traitor. 

'How long have you both been stuck like this?' Harry asked. 

‘Since September 21st,’ Hermione told him.

‘Wow,’ Harry whispered. ‘That explains so much. I knew something was different with you. If I'm honest, I even checked the Marauders Map. I couldn't put my finger on it, though. You play her rather well, Draco.' 

'Magic has changed us into each other completely,' Hermione told him. 'We're using each other's wands now. The swap is absolute.' 

Harry took this in.  

‘Do you remember the original timeline completely?’ Albus asked him gently.

Harry was still staring wide-eyed at both Draco and Hermione before he turned to Albus.

'I think so. It's just like remembering my fourth and fifth year. I can recall important things. Even some random things, like playing Quidditch and sitting in class. It wasn’t until I started having these dreams that I thought anything was wrong. Genuinely. I can't recall any blips or anything.’ 

Hermione was still holding his hand. 

Harry stared at her. At Draco. 

‘It’s really me,’ Hermione said gently. ‘I wanted to tell you so much, but with the connection to Riddle, we thought this would be safer for all of us.’ 

‘I understand. I can see you in your facial expressions.' Harry leant forward. 'For a time, it was just you and I. We were in the tent together. All that time and you never left me. Merlin, we were so bloody miserable.’ 

Hermione smiled at him. 'I'll always stand by you, Harry.'

Harry's face quivered a little with emotion as he stared at her. 

‘Can I get a big Hermie hug?’ Harry asked. 

Hermione sobbed at that and wrapped her arms around him.

Draco watched himself be hugged tightly by Harry. 

‘You’re magic feels different,’ Harry said softly, ‘but I’d know those hugs anywhere.’ 

Draco felt distinctly uncomfortable as he watched himself sob into Harry’s shoulder. 

‘I’ve missed you so much,’ Hermione managed to choke out.

Her eyes travelled over his face as she gave a small gasp. ‘Harry, your scar. It’s faded.’ 

Albus moved closer as his face broke into a big smile. ‘The Vortex has destroyed the piece of Tom in you, Harry. The connection is broken. Your mind is protected from him. I hasten to guess the Vortex may have placed decoys in your mind if Tom attempts again to get into your head.’ 

Harry kept clinging onto Hermione, well, Draco, with an awed expression. 

'I'm really free of him getting inside my mind?' he asked hopefully. 

'I believe so,' Albus said. 'You've already lived through more than enough of Tom. Our helpers are easing your pain.' 

Harry's relief was palpable. 

‘It’s just Nagini left now,’ Draco whispered. 

‘Dumbledore’s destroyed the other Horcruxes,’ Hermione told Harry. 

'Which would not have been possible if not for your future actions,' Albus said with reverence. 'That was simply marvellous what you achieved.' 

‘This is unbelievable,’ Harry said again as his eyes swivelled around him. ‘It’s so good to see you again, Headmaster.’ 

Albus was looking at Harry in contemplation, ‘Tom broke the cardinal rules of time travel. You cannot go back to change events. What the Vortex has done is erase the original timeline from September 21st to start again. One should not be allowed to travel back this far. Tom was reckless with what he did. We calculate we have until the end of next year at the latest to defeat him fully. This is how far he can go back. This must be prevented.’ 

Harry was staring in amazement at all of them. His eyes glanced at Albus’s hand. 

Albus met his eyes with a gentle smile. ‘Do not worry, Harry. I am ready to move on. You have seen for yourself that this life is merely the beginning.’ 

Harry kept his arm tightly around Hermione as he gave Albus a small smile. 

Draco was watching himself cuddling up to Harry with a pensive look. 

'I know you like your cuddles. I am completely fine with that. The affection you have for each other is admirable. However, can I beg you that neither of you does that in public, please?' 

Hermione gave a snort. 'Draco doesn't want any more rumours circulating about him,' she murmured to Harry, who gave Draco a mischievous look.

Draco's face faltered. 

Harry gave him a sly look which broke into a smile. 'Don't worry, Draco. I shall not be cuddling your body in public. It's enough that you and I shared a kiss.' 

Draco exhaled slowly as grey eyes narrowed at Harry.

Harry's lips twitched up in mirth as Draco gave him a roll of his eyes. 

Now the reality of the situation was starting to sink in; Harry had cheered up immensely.

'This is all utterly insane but absolutely brilliant. We're finally one step ahead of him,' Harry told them. 

Draco and Hermione nodded hopefully. 

Albus cleared his throat. ‘Now, Harry. For obvious reasons, only those of us in this room need to know about the time travel. You need to replicate your behaviour as you did in your sixth year. This is to ensure the timeline doesn’t veer too far from the original and we lose track of events. We do have a plan in action.’ 

Harry nodded as he hung onto every word. 

‘Tom cannot be allowed to continue with his evil plot,’ Albus said. ‘The prophecy is meant to be fulfilled by you. That is what we’ve been aiming for. You have already done the hard work in the original timeline. There are a few things I’m putting in place to give you the strongest chance of survival against him.’ 

Harry was holding Hermione's hand tightly. 

Draco watched this with a curious expression. 

‘For now, try and enjoy your sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry,’ Albus murmured. ‘You three have all earnt it. We shall aim to prevent the vast amount of damage that Tom and his followers inflicted on the Wizarding World. We must, however, be very careful. If Tom was to hear a whisper of this, then the consequences could be devastating for us all.’ 

Harry nodded vigorously. ‘I’m well aware of what he’s capable of.’ 

‘I mean it, Harry,’ Albus said. ‘Not one word to anyone outside this room. Not even to the Weasleys. Not to anyone. I suspect Draco and Hermione's minds may also be protected from Tom due to the Vortex. The other's minds may not be as well protected.’ 

Hermione and Draco felt more positive after hearing that theory. 

Harry nodded at this. 'I promise I'll keep my mouth shut. When this is all over, we can tell them the truth.' 

Harry turned to Draco and Hermione.

‘Do you have any idea how long you two going to be in each other’s bodies for?’ he asked as he pushed up his glasses. 

Draco shook his head. ‘No idea. The Vortex changed us. Your guess is as good as ours for when we change back. We’ve been having visions ourselves of each other’s lives. We've gone back in time, and we live a part of each other's history. It’s how I knew you were a part of this too.’ 

Harry stared at Draco. His lips twitched. 

‘Hermione. Were you terribly offended when Draco cut your hair off?’ 

Hermione gave him a grin. ‘Very, but I do look nicer. I have to say, Draco has very nice fashion sense.’ 

‘That he does. The haircut really does suit you, Hermione. But, you’ll both be pleased to know that the incessant pull to you has gone. I don’t want to snog you anymore. Everything has gone back to normal. Whether that's the Vortex or knowing you're actually Draco inside is entirely speculation.’ 

Draco and Hermione both breathed a sigh of relief.

‘That’s good to know, Potter,’ Draco said. 

‘Harry,’ Harry said in a firm voice to him. ‘Call me Harry, Draco. I think we’re both on a first-name basis with each other by now.’ 

Draco gave a small gulp at this small peace offering. ‘Ok, Harry.’ 

Harry spotted Fawkes on the side of the cabinet as he grinned at the sight of the Phoenix.

‘A second chance,' Harry murmured. 'We’ve got a second chance to make this right. All those people we lost. Remus and Tonks. Fred. Colin. All of them in the great hall. We can save them all.’ 

Hermione pulled him into another hug as Draco and Albus looked on. 

‘Ginny...’ Harry began. 

‘You just need to wait very patiently for her.’ Hermione said. ‘You’ll have a few more annoying months with Dean to endure.’ 

Harry pouted. ‘Well, I’ll see if I can hurry that one up.’

Hermione sighed. ‘Just be discreet. Don’t sabotage them. Just make it clear to her that you’re interested. She’ll end things with Dean soon enough once she knows that.’ 

Harry beamed widely at that. ‘We can spend some proper time together. I can stop her having that atrocious year at Hogwarts.’ 

Hermione nodded. ‘Once this is all over, we can tell them all the truth. We have the memories in the pensieve to show them the original timeline.’ 

‘It’s so good to have my head clear. This week has been mental,’ Harry told them, 'I didn't know what was happening to me.'  

Hermione nodded along with that. She knew how refreshing it felt to clear your mind.  

Harry looked at both of them. ‘I still can’t quite believe this is happening.’ 

He looked at Draco. ‘You being Hermione explains why you’ve been so cold to Ron. I knew there was something weird going on there.’ 

Draco glanced at Hermione and just nodded to Harry.

‘I didn’t want to give him any ideas. Both Hermione and I have made a pact not to get involved with anyone whilst we're in these bodies.’ 

Harry nodded earnestly at that. ‘I understand. That's for the best. Merlin. Tom. I knew he was evil, but what happened in the great hall was sicker than I ever thought possible.'

The others nodded warily. They would do everything possible to prevent that. 

'The Elder wand?’ Harry asked Albus quickly. 

Albus smiled genially. ‘I suspect that the Elder Wand already answers to you, Harry. You are the Master of Death. However, leave me to my plans and plots in the background to make sure. We can't allow for any wrong assumptions.’ 

Harry gave him a rueful smile. ‘I understand why you did what you did in the future. A lot of it may have driven me nuts at the time, but I get it. We almost did it. If not for that time turner this would have all been over.’

Albus smiled sheepishly. 'Forgive an old man,' he said in a low tone. 

'It's forgiven,' Harry said with a smile. 'I know we've got our work cut out, but this feels different to what it felt like in the future. We can make this timeline better than it was. It can be much better.' 

Hermione gave Harry a kiss on the cheek as she hugged him again. 

Draco watched this display of affection with an open mouth. 'Again, Hermione. Keep the affection to private only. If anyone sees Draco Malfoy kissing Harry Potter on the cheek, then my father will hear about it,' he said in a dry tone that Hermione was beginning to be able to translate as his distinctive dark humour.  

Hermione gave a snort at this, followed by a giggle. 

Harry gazed at her. At Draco. It was Draco's snort, but he could hear something that was quintessentially Hermione in there. 

'Oh, Draco. You do make me laugh,' she said with a light tone.

She was very happy with the evening's events. She had Harry back properly. He knew the truth. Her cup was half full right now. There was a long-distance left to run, but they were back on track now. 

Harry glanced over at Draco with a thoughtful expression which he quickly wiped from his face.

He'd not heard Hermione laugh like that in a long time. 

Chapter Text

It was later that same night, and Draco lay on Hermione’s bed curled up with Crookshanks and a book about a sixteenth-century muggleborn wizard called Tertius who had invented the Felix Felicis. He’d gone on to become one of Gringotts most famous curse breakers. 

He stroked a purring Crookshanks and brought the old leather book up to smell. Since he was a young boy, it had always soothed him to smell these ancient books. 

Harry had been as polite to him as could be expected under these mysterious circumstances. Draco could see Harry looking bewildered for much of the evening, but there was an optimism in his eyes that hadn’t been there before the kiss. 

He had kept glancing at Draco with a curious expression. Draco didn’t quite know what to make of him. It wasn’t a face full of revulsion or anger towards him, though, so Draco accepted it gladly. Their history together had been a road full of craters. That they could actually be civil to each other was certainly an improvement from the glares and sneers they’d shared over the years. 

Draco supposed that Harry had also had enough of the antagonistic nature of their past. It had brought neither of them any happiness, and by the end, they’d both been sick and tired of it all. What had either of them gained in all these years by being hostile to each other? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. If anything, it had worked against them. If Draco had known at the start what Tom was capable of, he would have played the entire lot differently. 

Still, he hadn’t. Draco could only salvage what was left. 

The enemy of my enemy is my friend seemed to be the attitude that Harry was taking with him. Draco was more than happy to meet him halfway with that same attitude. They both had their reasons for going against Tom. Draco gulped. His parents could meet the same fate as the Potters if he failed. His father was unknowingly already walking the green mile. If his mother made one slip….

Draco brushed over that kiss with Harry in his mind. It hadn’t been unpleasant, but his toes had been curling under his feet with embarrassment. He had sworn to do whatever it took to defeat Tom. Draco was facing this head-on. If kissing Harry meant his family had a better chance of survival, then so be it. That was the price he was prepared to pay. He’d kiss Crabbe if it meant the end of Tom. 

His nose wrinkled up in distaste. Perhaps not that. He had his limits.  

Harry and Hermione had been very tactile with each other. Harry’s memories had come back with a huge surge, and his high emotions and her happiness at their mini-reunion with each other had been blatant with them both. 

Harry clearly held Hermione in very high esteem. From what Draco knew already, the time they had spent on the road together had been formidable and had only strengthened their bond with each other. They might have been utterly desolate and miserable in those cold, grim days with each other, but they’d never allow the other to be alone. 

Draco respected them both for that. 

Hermione might not have been Harry’s fun friend, but she was the friend that Harry had needed when he was at his lowest. She had been his rock when things had been at their worst. 

Hermione had looked so pleased that Harry remembered everything. Harry had been very impressed by her impression of Draco. The realisation he had confronted Hermione in the corridor and not the real Draco had him flummoxed. 

‘You were such an asshole to me,’ Harry had said with an incredulous voice.

‘I know I was,’ Hermione said in an apologetic voice. ‘I’m so sorry.’ 

‘Don’t be. I’m impressed. I really wanted to smack you.’ 

Hermione gave him a smug smile at the praise for her acting abilities. 

‘You twirled your wand just like he does.’ 

Hermione grinned. ‘Oh, you noticed. I practised that.’ 

Harry turned to Draco. ‘You were twirling your wand in the common room. I knew it reminded me of someone.’ 

‘Old habits. I’ll try not to do that. If you see me doing anything out of character, just tell me.’

‘We’ve had a few awkward moments with the others,’ Hermione had told Harry. ‘We’ve got through them, though. I don’t think anyone suspects we’ve swapped over. Pansy does suspect something, so be careful around her.’ 

‘If either of you need any help, just ask,’ Harry offered them. ‘I’ll do my best to cover for you.’  

‘Thanks,’ they’d both said at the same time. 

Draco recalled the rest of the night where they had chatted nineteen to the dozen about everything that had transpired since they’d arrived back. Harry had tactfully avoided asking any intrusive questions about the physical implications of the body swap. 

One didn’t need to use much imagination and have only a limited knowledge of human anatomy to know of the practical challenges that both of them were navigating. 

Draco had watched Hermione carefully that evening. It was his body and face but her mannerisms that he was seeing. She was rather animated with Harry. Draco had noticed that Hermione had seemed much more assured today and less tense. He idly wondered what had improved her attitude. 

Draco knew from experience just what he did to unwind and relax. Normally it was some personal, private time with the opposite sex or if that wasn’t available…

He had felt a frisson of strange excitement at that. Was Hermione touching him there? For a moment, his throat went dry as his heart skipped a beat. It was weird. It was bizarre. Draco couldn’t deny the idea that made him feel a strange clench between his own thighs. He'd avoided looking at her for a while after that epiphany.  

Draco gazed into space on the bed as his thoughts idly contemplated just what Hermione was doing in his body in private. He shook his head clear as his mind went over the rest of the evening. 

Harry had kept looking toward Albus with a smile on his face. The fact he would be able to spend some more time with the Headmaster before he left for his next adventure clearly meant a lot to him.

Albus had a small grin on his face towards Harry too. This extra time they had been given was a gift. They were nowhere near as blind as they had been in the original timeline. They knew roughly what to expect. As Albus had rightly said, the bulk of the hard work had been done. The Horcruxes had been the main mission. Time was on their side. Not Tom’s. They simply had to prevent him from gaining the time turner, and Harry and Albus had to engineer a situation in which he confronted Tom and finished this once and for all. 

Draco rubbed Crookshanks’s belly as the cat stretched out in bliss. Hermione had said goodbye to him with a small hug. He smiled at that memory. It was their first hug. It wasn’t a big Hermie hug, but it had been contact that she’d initiated with him. 

He’d kept relaxed with her. The more he was getting to know her, the more he was drawn to her.

Ron was on the back burner. Draco understood now why he had reacted so strongly to him at the Yule Ball. He’d hurt Hermione. Draco was far from stupid. He was already feeling protective of her. 

He remembered his cramps and how easily Hermione had comforted him that night. She had a gentle side that matched her tough side. 

She was a good person who possessed a frightening aspect to her character. Draco felt a shiver of excitement at that thought. She was the ultimate snake. You didn’t see a woman like her coming until it was too late.

He was glad Harry was back, and Hermione had some more support other than just him. There was strength in numbers, and Harry went way back with her. Draco supposed she had been a little lonely. Pansy and Blaise were really the only two people he had regular contact with. Daphne and Tracey drifted in and out of his life. Crabbe and Goyle offered little in the way of actual conversation. 

Hermione had only had him to talk to about this until Harry. She wasn’t neglecting him, though, now that Harry was back in her life. On the contrary. She had been very careful to include him in their conversations. 

There had been a nervous tension in the Headmaster's office occasionally, but if Harry was prepared to bury the hatchet, then so was Draco. They’d both been through Hell. They both knew what was at stake. That they could stand together on this made a real difference. 

Their fight and the Sectumsempra spell was never clearer in his mind. Harry must remember it as well. Hermione had said he had been horrified by what he’d done to him. 

Whatever Harry was thinking about Draco personally, he hadn’t verbalised yet. Hermione had been honest about her relationship with Harry. They were definitely not attracted to each other. Draco could read people well. Harry and Hermione had a casual ease with each other born from years of familiarity. There was no tension there. No secret longing looks. Now Harry’s affliction was dealt with; his physical self had reverted back to normal around Hermione. Well, him. 

Draco prided himself on noticing the details. He was still kicking himself for neglecting to observe Crabbe and Goyle properly. He had got complacent. They had been hiding in plain sight. They had been constant shadows to him for so long he had barely noticed their presence in the end. He had been foolish to overlook them.

A Slytherin should never underestimate anyone. They should always be aware of their surroundings. Threats and enemies could be camouflaged. 

Still, he knew who was who now. He knew what side everyone was really on. He had a newfound respect for Snape. That man must have balls of steel to look Tom in the eye and lie to him. 

Draco scratched Crookshanks under the chin and watched the cat lift his chin up for more fuss as Draco indulged him. 

He let his mind wander. He felt a little pang of loneliness now that Hermione wasn’t sitting with him. He was getting used to her company.

It was unusual for him to feel that for another person. He was quite a solitary figure. He had his small circle of friends, but he liked his own company for the most part. Part of the need to see Hermione was being able to see himself. He needed that assurance that Draco still existed. It was important for his psyche that he knew he was still on earth. 

The other part of him was missing her. She was studious and could go for quite long lengths of time not speaking when she was absorbed in something. She was like him in that way. She was generally rather serious about things, but he liked that character trait. He’d never been one for vapid girls. Something about her quiet presence when he read made him feel rested. She was also showing a dry sense of humour that he connected with. 

He imagined himself back in his own body with Hermione next to him as he gave a slight grin at the thought. It was a comforting image. Him being cuddled up to her as Crookshanks dozed off at the end of the bed. 

Draco blinked as a slow idea gradually seeped into his mind. Before, in his own body, it was generally the physical he was first attracted to in the opposite sex. He’d really started looking at her on his trip to London, but that had been in more of an objective way. In Hermione’s body, he was thinking of the domestic first. 

He tilted his head in contemplation. This was interesting to him. It seemed the pull he was feeling to Hermione was operating differently to how it normally would. 

Hermione hadn’t spoken about what she was going through with her biology changes with him yet. He wasn’t holding his breath that she would be forthcoming about any of that. Draco mused about this. He was interested in the changes between her body and his. He certainly felt much softer. Sensations were more potent to his skin in this form. 

He still had magic within him, so he didn’t feel vulnerable, but being shorter was certainly affecting him. Although, Hermione had always stood tall. He’d always thought she was taller than she was. Until he was in her body, he hadn’t truly noticed her dimensions. He supposed she had a natural presence to her. At least to him. He’d always noticed her. 

She’d always noticed him too. 

True, there had been much glaring and gloating over the years between them. The one thing they hadn’t been was strangers to each other. They had both been on each other’s radar from the start. 

Draco picked up a hand mirror and took a moment to look into brown eyes. He found they comforted him a great deal.  

She’d spoken well of him to Harry. He’d been surprised to hear that. Hermione hadn’t reverted back into a them and us situation now she had part of the infamous trio back. She’d not pushed him away. She’d clearly moved on from their history. Harry trusted her judgement. He’d not given her the third degree about him. Harry trusted her to be honest with him. 

Hermione’s only real blind spot with anyone was with Ron. She was generally quite astute in how she analysed people. Draco also understood that there were years of moments between the pair of them, some good, some bad, which had led to her blinkered state with Ron. He had noticed the casual way she’d looked at Ron and Lavender in their charms class that morning, though. 

Draco took this as a good sign. The sooner she could put some space there mentally, the better.

He put the mirror back and settled himself into the bed. 

He wondered what she truly thought of him. Of who Draco was now. She was seeing sides of him that he never thought she would. He also wondered what she was dreaming about. 

He did know she had seen glimpses of his private moments. He wondered what else she was seeing. 

He was both nervous and strangely intrigued when he went to sleep now. He was seeing the world through her eyes. A part of him was looking forward to these visions.

Another part knew how volatile her life had been, and some of what he would witness would be cruel and painful. He had to remind himself that the Vortex was taking him to these places for a reason. 

It would wake him if the vision and sensations became too much to endure.

Crookshanks had disappeared for his nighttime adventures, so Draco curled up under the blankets. 

He closed his eyes and began to drift off. 

Hermione lay down on the bed in a pair of delightful silk pyjamas that felt sensuous on her skin. Draco’s skin was tougher than hers, but she could really feel the cool touch against her. 

She still had a smile on her face from Harry’s return to her. They had been a solid presence in each other’s lives for years. The one blip had been in their third year, and Harry had never repeated that with her. They knew they needed each other. 

Like Draco, she had seen the optimism in Harry's eyes. They could undo so much damage and pain to their world.

Hermione had been careful to remind him to not be nice to Snape, knowing what he knew now about the man’s true allegiance. Snape would know immediately that something was amiss if Harry started smiling at him. She told Harry to keep looking like he had a seething resentment towards the man. Also, there were students in the Castle paying close attention. Any deviation in his behaviour would be noted. Albus had told them that Snape had to be seen as Riddle’s man to all and sundry for the foreseeable future.  

Hermione herself was conflicted about Snape and hoped he didn't feature too much in her future. She still thought the man was an asshole. A brave asshole, but an asshole nonetheless. She could still recall his bitchy comment about her teeth in her Fourth year. She refused to let that one go. She thought his teaching abilities fell woefully short. His brash manner and sarcastic comments over the years had created a very hostile educational environment. She would never forgive him for jeopardising not only her potions education but the other student's education. This was unforgivable to Hermione. 

Draco had told her he’d kept a lid on the truly despicable violence in the castle when he was Headmaster, which Hermione appreciated. Still, she couldn’t imagine sitting with Snape as she did with Albus and chatting over a cup of tea. 

Draco had been a little tentative with Harry, but that was to be expected. They both had the same aim now. They knew what was at stake. Hermione wondered if they would ever be friends in the future. 

Stranger things had happened. 

She had already warmed up to Draco, although she supposed they were having a unique experience with each other. No one else in the world would know how this felt. 

She thought inexplicably of Ginny and of how Tom had got into her head through the diary. How he had manipulated her thoughts and caused her to doubt her own mind. Of how Harry knew how that felt and how the pair of them could relate to that experience with each other. 

Hermione didn’t know how that felt. That crippling darkness that both Harry and Ginny had experienced was something they both understood about the other. Neither of them really talked about it, but Tom left scars. 

What she and Draco were experiencing was similar to that. It was something that was just theirs. 

That Harry was free of that piece of Tom in him was only starting to sink in with her. The relief Harry must be feeling would take him time to come to terms with. Albus seemed convinced the Vortex had set protections in place for the next time Tom came visiting. 

Hermione hugged herself again with Draco’s arms around her. Harry finally had some privacy. She could talk freely with him. He would finally be able to sleep through the night. He wouldn’t have that sharp pain slicing his skull open anymore.  

He’d endured enough for ten lifetimes with Tom. Hermione was genuinely surprised at how well Harry had handled it. Many others would have collapsed under the pressure. That wasn’t to say Harry hadn’t had his moments. He was human, and he’d lashed out on occasion with the stress of it all. Still, the light side had been very fortunate it was Harry who had carried this burden for all these years. He had a courage and tenacity that she admired very much in her black haired friend. 

Her mind gently approached the subject of Ron. She sighed out herself with the boredom. He’d been in her thoughts for too long. Had she finally burnt herself out? What was it she had actually wanted from him? Had it been the challenge? Was it her feeling like she’d earned him? That she was finally good enough for him? Draco had spoken of the effects that his negative comments towards her had done on her state of mind. Ron had undermined her confidence to the point where she felt he was really working hard to tolerate her presence. 

Draco had been bang on the money about Ron and his Quidditch. Harry had Tom in his head and imminent death facing him. He had all that pressure with the prophecy to contend with, and Ron was obsessed with how well he saved a quaffle in a school Quidditch match. 

She gave a derivative snort at that. Ron was woefully immature in so many ways. He always wanted to be the centre of attention, regardless of what was actually happening. 

She pulled some positive memories from the depths of her mind to gain some logical balance. He’d stood up for her when the snatchers had got them. He was a good friend in that regard. 

This was where the confusion had come in with her feelings towards him. Ron had his moments when he had stood up for her. Like he stood up for Harry. 

They had also stood up for him on numerous occasions. That’s what friends did. Luna, Neville, Ginny. They had all defended each other. Had she wanted to marry any of them because of it? No. 

Ron had complimented her intelligence on several occasions. As had Harry. 

Hermione had already noted his negative qualities. That was the balance sheet for Ron, and with time away from her actual life to really analyse it all, it didn't look very balanced anymore. In this body, without the attraction to him that she'd had in the past, what was there left? 

Maybe if she'd been a little bit wiser, she should have stayed just friends with him and waited to see how he would evolve over time. After the Horcrux Hunt shenanigans, she had good reason to believe that possibly this immaturity and some of his more negative traits may take a long time to disappear if they ever did. They were a part of him. 

Harry was an old soul. Ron had the ability to make him forget his problems for a time. He was the fun friend. Mostly. When he wasn’t storming off and accusing Harry of stabbing him in the back when he hadn’t, he was the fun friend. Hermione could understand why Harry wanted his company. Mostly. 

Could she really have imagined herself older, married with children and responsibilities to a man like Ron? 

She ran her hand down Draco’s chest and sighed out in reflection. This body swap was affecting her psyche more than she thought it would. When she thought of Ron now, it was with a dim sort of nostalgia. He wasn’t eliciting any real emotion from her anymore. Maybe he had just worn it all out of her. There was just a mild acceptance of what had happened between them now. A certain fondness for some of the good times they’d shared and a lingering resentment for the bad. His protective gestures had been too few over the years.

Malfoy Manor loomed into her mind. He’d been frantic about her then. Her life had been on the line. He hadn’t been so bothered about her safety when he'd walked out on her with Death Eaters on the loose. Unless there was an immediate threat, she struggled to think of any time he’d actually seemed that concerned for her.

She cringed when she recalled the false face of penance towards her on his return. She’d seen glimpses of him with Harry making jokes with a casual look on his face. That didn’t seem like a man who was riddled with guilt about leaving her. If she'd been the one to storm off and leave Harry and Ron alone, she would have been distraught on her return for how much this would have hurt Ron by doing that. She wouldn't have been sniggering to Harry behind his back about in-jokes. 

What would day to day living have been like with him? Hermione sighed at the image of the nitty, gritty of the daily grind. 

He would have spent most of his time napping on the sofa when he was home, all year round. When not lazing on the sofa, he would have been slipping off to go down the pub at regular intervals as more and more of the child care fell to her. She considered all the household chores that wouldn't have got done unless she nagged him. 

Hermione felt nothing much anymore except a resigned acceptance of the validity of these thoughts. That was Ron all over. These were his patterns that she had seen repeated already. These patterns would just change form. That was all. The schoolwork she had done for him would have turned to chores and child care.

He half-assed his way through life with a few cutting jokes and a smile in his arsenal. A lot of things were too much trouble for Ron. When eventually the issues he neglected came to fruition, and a straw broke the camel's back, he would show her a few moments of heightened emotion, a few days of remorse and then, somehow, everything would revert back to normal. 

She didn't even know how authentic his emotions truly were anymore. She pictured his laughing eyes behind her back when he'd returned to them. Deep down, was he laughing about her and her gullibility in falling for a few cheap words and a few practised meaningful facial expressions?

It didn't matter anymore. That future hadn't happened.

Each day she lived in this new timeline was changing her.

That life with Ron she thought was set in stone was becoming more and more distant to her. 

She was now Draco Malfoy. She’d been in his body for over a week, and there didn’t appear to be any sign that they were changing back anytime soon.  

Hermione had finally reached a natural stop in her thoughts about the redhead as she stretched out on the bed and prepared for sleep.  

She turned off the light and closed her eyes. 

Draco looked around him with interest. He was back in his own body. He was clearly in a simple, straightforward dream. Things had that hazy sensation. He felt light. He let the dream take him along. He was walking through the beautiful grounds at Malfoy Manor. He could see the familiar peacocks in the distance. 

There was no breeze here. The sun appeared to be setting, giving his surroundings a rather fairy-tale vibe. He looked down at himself. 

He was in a white shirt and cotton trousers. He made the most of this unexpected respite as he gazed around at these salubrious sights of his home. 

‘Hey,’ came a familiar voice.

He looked up to see Hermione looking at him with that slightly superior expression she used to have on her face when she addressed him. She was leaning against the old oak tree in the back of the secluded part of the grounds. 

His eyes ran up and down her frame in appreciation of what he was seeing. She was in a light blue summer dress that hugged her figure tightly. 

She lifted her hand and beckoned him to her. He didn’t feel himself walking. He was just suddenly there. This dream wasn’t a vision. This was simply his subconscious. Draco allowed himself to relax entirely. The trees were shaped differently and swayed oddly. Nothing was true to scale here. 

He stared down at her eyes as she gave him a rather audacious look that didn’t need any translating.

Draco knew that look well. 

He felt his hand reach out to her and run through her hair as she lifted up her chin to him. 

She took his pale hand in hers and pulled him towards her.  

‘Touch me,’ he heard her whisper into his ear. 

Draco looked down as his hand eased around her waist as he pushed against her. He felt his body tremble in anticipation as his hand ran down her back. This was just a dream. Unlike reality or the visions, the pressure he needed to feel wasn't there. This was light and tactile. Teasing. 

He leaned in closer to her as his hands moved around her and then they sunk down lower as his hands began to slip up her dress.

‘More, Draco. I need so much more from you. I’m very demanding,’ Hermione murmured in his ear in a voice dripping with honey as Draco’s heart began to race. 

Her hands moved down to slide his shirt off as she gave him a devilish smile as Draco's eyes watched her with a transfixed expression.   

To his dismay, the dream disappeared into mist, and he felt himself wake up. 

Draco scowled in annoyance. Damn it. It was just getting good. 

He felt himself emerge from his sleep and into the darkness. The clock said it was just after midnight. His mood improved immensely as he had to clench his thighs together due to a delicious ache that shot through him. 

He bit his lip. It turned out Hermione did actually have a libido. He hadn’t been entirely sure. He ran his hand, her hand, down her chest and exhaled slowly as he felt hardened nipples. In that space between dreams and reality, Draco had to make a decision. 

Being an actual human being with urges and a weak nature when it came to matters of the flesh, he chose option number two and let his hand move further down. He suspected that Hermione had potentially snapped already. Cold showers could only do so much. He knew that from experience.

He needed to explore, and these tremors were not going away. 

He tentatively reached down and pressed his fingers against the pressure that was building. 

His eyes shot wide open as a big grin plastered itself on his face as he moaned out. This was sublime. He could feel delectable sensations shooting through him as quivers vibrated inside him. It felt different to what he was used to. Less primal and more enticing. He felt the slow ripples start to spread throughout his body. He felt Hermione’s thighs begin to tremble as his fingers moved deeper. 

He closed his eyes as he thought of that enticing look on Hermione’s face as he imagined his hand sliding between her thighs. He pictured her nails running down his chest as he brought her mouth closer to his own to kiss her. 

Draco imagined a lot of things. 


Draco had his first female orgasm that night. He felt the aftershocks pulsating through his body as his body spasmed. 

He lay there with a lazy smile on his face as his body lay limp and sated.

Being Hermione Granger wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it was going to be. 

Hermione’s eyes snapped open. She was standing in the grounds of Malfoy Manor as Lucius had his hand on her shoulder. He seemed rather tall to her and a lot younger than the last time she’d seen him. She must be very young pre-Hogwarts Draco. 

She glanced down. The floor seemed quite close. 

‘So, my son,’ Lucius said. ‘All this will be yours one day. Your legacy. Your birthright. I expect you to do your duty and maintain this. One day it will be passed down to your children. As long as there is an earth, there must always be a Malfoy in this Manor. It was fought for and loved by our ancestors for generations. Their memories and hard work must always be respected.’ 

‘Yes, father,’ Draco murmured as his eyes grazed over the impressive Manor. 

Lucius knelt down and peered at him.

Hermione looked into eyes that actually looked rather kind. It was quite a change for her to witness empathy in the long-haired man. 

She remembered what Draco had said about perspective. 

‘Choose your wife with great care, my son. She will have the power to make or break you.’ 

‘I don’t care about silly little girls,' Draco said with his face scrunched up in annoyance. 'I'll just live here with Crabbe and Goyle. We can play Quidditch all day long forever.'

Lucius gave a warm laugh that echoed around the grounds. 

‘Oh, Draco. I promise you that you will change your views on that and very quickly. Silly little girls grow up, and thank Salazar, they do. All Malfoy men have always had a very great liking for witches. You shall find having a wife will improve your life immensely.’ 

Hermione felt Lucius ruffle her hair up as Draco pouted. 

‘Now go and see your mother and give her a big hug,’ Lucius said.

Draco grinned and then tore off across the lawn. 

Hermione floated out of his body and into blackness as she considered this. That was quite a nice vision to witness. 

She felt herself being pulled back down.

The mood began to change drastically. 

She was back in Malfoy Manor, and Tom was glaring at her. 

‘You incompetent fool, Draco,’ Tom hissed at him. ‘You failed to identify Potter when he was right under your nose.’ 

Hermione felt Draco stomach clench. His body felt constrained. He couldn’t physically move. 

‘Narcissa. Lucius. You raised an idiot.’ 

Hermione’s eyes darted around. Narcissa was collapsed on the floor alongside Bellatrix and Lucius. It was clear they’d been tortured by the Cruciatus.

Lucius looked a far cry from the glamorous man she had seen not five minutes earlier. He looked bedraggled. His face haggard as he twitched on the floor with his face contorted with pain. 

Mean red eyes pierced hers. 

A wand pressed hard into her forehead as Tom gave him an animalistic snarl. 

‘I’m watching you, Malfoy Junior. If I so much as sniff anymore dissent on your part, you will endure unimaginable desecration,’ Tom spat.

He drew his wand back and sneered at Draco as he prepared to unleash the Cruciatus on him. 

Hermione felt Draco’s insides turn to lead. 

‘CRUCIO.’

Hermione felt the force of a thousand knives slashing every part of her. For a moment that stretched on, there was only agony. The vision quickly pulled her away from the horrifying nightmare. 

Hermione sat sharply up in the bed as her body shook. The pain dissipated quickly.  

She exhaled slowly as she came to terms with the two contrasting visions she’d experienced. 

Her clock showed it was just after three. Her heart was still pounding as she lay there, simply focusing on her breathing for several long minutes. 

That nightmare wasn’t going to happen.

Hermione ran both hands through Draco’s blond hair in a soothing repetitive motion. 

Tom and his Death Eaters would be long gone by then. 

Her heartbeat returned to normal as her eyes became heavy again.

There were to be no more visions for her that night. 

Draco was off in dreamworld again. He felt much chirpier than he had done.

He opened his eyes to see himself in a Hogwarts alcove with the most famous seeker in the world. 

‘Her my oh nee,’ Viktor whispered. 

Draco flinched back in his mind, but it made no difference as Viktor leaned in closer. 

‘Oh, Viktor. I’m going to miss you so much,’ Hermione said to him in a pensive voice.  

‘I shall write you always,’ Viktor said in his deep voice. 

‘And I’ll write to you,’ Hermione said as she ran her hand through his dark hair. 

‘So beautiful,’ Viktor murmured as Hermione leaned into him. 

Draco sighed with despair at the prospect of feeling another man’s lips on his own.  

‘Oh, Viktor,’ Hermione said in a low voice as Draco watched her hand graze Viktor’s chin. 

Draco braced himself. 

Warm wet lips met his own as Viktor kissed Hermione gently.

Draco tried to look away, but instead, big eyebrows were in his vision.

Hermione closed her eyes as Draco was thankful for the illusion of darkness. 

He felt her body thrum as Viktor's arms moved around her. 

Draco had to admit it was a rather nice physical sensation that went through him at the contact, but mentally he’d put a block there. 

He emerged from the vision with his mind swarming and leant back on the bed.  

He could see how the body swap was affecting him. Hermione’s body had responded to Viktor. He’d felt that. It was a physical response. It wasn’t mental for him, though. Hermione said she was straight. His mind was starting to affect her body. He’d dreamt of her. Her body had responded to those thoughts of her. To the thought of them. Draco shook his head. It was confusing. 

Hermione's body had responded to both of them in his dream of them by the oak tree. 

Draco thought a bit more and pictured Daphne in his mind. He waited for his blood to surge as it normally would in his own body. His mind went to places in his memory, but Hermione’s body remained static. 

Draco pondered this. He thought of Hannah. Again, there was nothing. 

He clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes as he pictured Pansy. 

There was nothing for a while, but then a surge of irritation flooded through him. 

Draco blinked in wonderment at how the muscle memory in her body had reacted to his thoughts. 

He thought again of the Hermione he'd just dreamt of and felt Hermione's body become warmer and his heartbeat increase.  

He breathed in deeply as his mind affected her body. He felt her body begin to respond to his thoughts. 

Draco inhaled sharply at this revelation.

He truly wanted her.

His mind had reacted so strongly to Hermione he could affect how her body responded to his thoughts of her.

He was beginning to realise that her body was actually reacting to thoughts of him too. On a physical level, her body was attracted to him. 

Draco's mind spun with this potential discovery. 

He needed to speak to her about this. It would most possibly be excruciatingly awkward, but he needed to know what she was feeling about him. 

He thought of Harry and the kiss. That kiss had the power to restore memories. Harry had been craving a kiss with her. 

Draco ran his hand slowly through Hermione’s hair.

Perhaps that was it. Maybe he was feeling like this because of the Vortex. Maybe it was that simple.

Harry had dreamt of kissing Hermione. Perhaps all they had to do was kiss, and they’d be returned to their own bodies. 

He needed to speak the plain truth of what he was feeling to Hermione, and he needed her to be honest with him. 

With these ambiguous, confusing thoughts, he finally slipped into proper sleep. 

Chapter Text

Harry couldn’t quite believe what was happening, but for the first time in his short yet eventful life, what he was living through wasn’t making him a stretched bag of nerves filled with actual horror. 

He could physically feel how much lighter his mind felt. Although there were a great many of them, he felt clearer in his thoughts. 

It was almost like being reborn. The world looked so much brighter than it did. His body felt freer. 

Hermione and Draco were each other. Harry couldn’t help but inwardly smile at that. What a great leveller. Draco was now a muggleborn. 

His strange mutterings earlier in the week about muggleborns being his people made sense to Harry now. 

Draco had helped give him his mind back. Albeit in the strangest way possible. 

Harry never thought he'd ever have a reason to be so grateful to Draco for anything in his life. 

Harry sat quietly in the Great Hall eating his lunch. He was still absorbing the enormity of this switch and everything else that had transpired during the original timeline. His eyes scanned the Hall to check all those that had died in the battle were very much alive and kicking. His heart rate pounded rapidly at what he was seeing all around him. They were all here. All present and very much all still breathing. 

His lips curled up in a soft smile. What he had witnessed at the Battle of Hogwarts and the Great Hall had ripped him to pieces. 

He glanced over to the Slytherin table and saw a haughty looking Draco speaking quietly with Blaise. Harry pinched himself. Yep. That was indeed Hermione masquerading as Draco Malfoy. He now had brown eyes. Only to him though. 

Draco was sitting opposite him right now. Grey eyes made contact as Harry gave him a small smile which was returned. They were still a little distant from each other, but there were no unpleasant vibes. Harry was still very much in the Twilight zone with what he had experienced in the Vortex and Draco was sensibly giving him space to put his head back together. Harry had almost two years of memories to sift through. 

Harry focused on his jacket potato. This was all so shocking. He spied Colin further down the table, playing with his camera as Harry felt a warm sensation flood him at the simple sight. He was another person that Harry vowed to try and keep alive. 

Albus had been very clear with him. They could actually stop Tom properly this time. They had a real chance to end this once and for all and save their world. 

There was no way Harry was going to allow Tom to massacre all these people. That he had Draco as an ally now was making him feel all sorts of extreme emotions. They had so much bad blood between them. His mind flickered to their fight in the toilets. That wouldn't be happening this year. The main emotion he was feeling was relief that all the hostility was over between him and his school nemesis. 

The ultimate pureblood snob had finally seen the truth and the error of his ways. Although, Harry knew deep down this had been a long time coming. He had seen for himself the cracks appearing in Draco during his original sixth year.

Harry knew Hermione very well by now. Her body language with Draco the night before had completely changed in such a short time with him. She was open with him. If he was honest with himself she seemed much more relaxed than he'd witnessed her being in a while. They had told him they were having vision dreams about each other. They were going along each other's timelines at random intervals and inhabiting their bodies for short periods of time. 

Harry wasn’t sure what to make of that. Perhaps the Vortex wanted them to be closer to each other. If that was its intention, then it was certainly working.  

Harry had watched discreetly as Draco’s eyes lingered a little too long on her on several occasions. Harry was hardly the consummate expert on romance but he knew enough to know that Draco was certainly paying Hermione more attention than would normally be deemed friendly. 

When he had seen Hermione spend a little too long doing the same back to Draco, Harry had considered the realistic possibility that something else was going on with the two of them. 

He shook it off. 

He was just imagining things. His mind was still making connections from the future timeline to right now. Draco and Hermione were in each other's bodies. They were going to have a natural interest in each other for that reason. 

Harry relaxed at that thought and glanced over to Ron.  

As a friend, Ron had been a lot of laughs over the years. Except for the occasional storm out and strop he’d been a good friend to him. He'd stood with him and up for him many times. 

Harry watched as Ron chomped on his food. 

Draco had been a persistent pain in his ass for years. 

Hermione and Draco may be intrigued with each other due to their current circumstances, but them getting together when they swapped back would never happen. 

Draco was still a Malfoy. His views on muggleborns may have changed for the better, but even so, he didn't expect Draco to pursue anything with her. The society set and his family would banish him into the wilderness for that.   

Hermione and Ron would get it together. Once they overcame the very many obstacles that seemed to get in their way frequently. 

Harry was sure when all this was over they were all going to be one big, happy Weasley family in the future.

He would marry Ginny and Ron would marry Hermione. 

Probably.

If Tom was actually defeated for real this time then it was most certainly going to happen.

Harry shrugged off his initial suspicions. What could Hermione possibly see in Draco anyway? It was absurd to even consider the two of them together, although Harry had to admit to himself she must know him better than he did by now.

Draco had been a little too brief about Ron and Hermione had been suspiciously quiet. 

Harry had been a reluctant spectator to the Ron and Hermione back and forth relationship debacle for years. It had bored him, unsettled him and irritated him in equal measures. 

There had been subtle changes between Ron and Hermione in recent years. In the early days, they had both given as good as they could get with each other. 

Things had been much more unstable between them since their sixth year though. 

Hermione hadn’t been able to brush Ron’s behaviour off as easily as she had been able to do in the past. Harry had put it down to the stress of the war at the time, but being able to reflect back on this being a little bit older and wiser, he had to consider that it was mainly Ron who had affected her darker moods, especially when they had the locket. 

He remembered with unfortunate clarity Ron's dour attitude and vicious recriminations on the Hunt. How volatile and acidic he had been with both of them. Harry had put it to the back of his mind when Ron had returned.

They'd had bigger problems to deal with than Ron's erratic behaviour and it had helped that Ron had been very jolly after the locket had been destroyed. It was like none of it had ever happened and it had been easy for Harry to gloss over the bad memories.

Harry knew what Ron could get like when he was having one of his bad spells. He'd normally just let him get on with it. However, even Harry had been pushed to breaking point by Ron's caustic attitude. He'd felt a corrosive hatred for him when Ron had walked out on him. On them.  

At the time he had thought something had broken forever between them. Ron had come back and all had been forgiven. Again. 

He'd forgiven him too quickly if he was being honest with himself, but he’d been desperate at that point to have the trio back together.

It had been awkward for a while. Ron's looks of dismay to Hermione were quickly wiped from his face when they were out of her earshot and a cheerful demeanour had taken its place.

Harry hadn’t wanted to say anything to question Ron's sincerity towards her at the time. He’d had so much going on in his own head.  He had just wanted the Hunt over with and Tom gone and he hadn't wanted Ron to leave them again. It was all he had the energy to focus on. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ron shovelling three sausages into his mouth.

Draco had paled slightly and was avoiding the stomach-churning sight to the best of his ability. 

Harry knew that this future wasn't going to happen. Except for Nagini, the Horcruxes had all been destroyed by Albus.

There wasn't going to be a Hunt. 

Harry understood that ethically they were correct not to encourage anyone in the dating game whilst they were in different bodies, but Harry had assumed that she would at least be showing some sort of annoyance about the situation with Ron. 

Hermione seemed to have accepted the predicament she was in with Ron quite easily. Harry mused about that. She'd had longer to come to terms with it than he had. Perhaps that was why she was so calm.

Ron and Hermione had been well on their way to being a couple at the Battle of Hogwarts.

Ron had said something nice about the Elves and Hermione had jumped on him. 

That entire day had been mad. The adrenalin had been pulsating and people were doing crazy things. They all knew they could be dead by dawn.

Harry hadn’t really reacted at the time to the sight of them kissing. He’d had bigger things to focus on than his friend's love lives. 

It had seemed inevitable after all their hard work at getting to that point. It had certainly been an ongoing, uphill struggle for both of them.

Harry frowned at that thought. 

Should relationships really be that difficult? 

Ginny and he hadn’t been like that. Sure, it had taken him a bit longer than he would have liked to get to their first kiss, but then, after that, it was plain sailing. 

He’d ended it to protect her, a fact she was well aware of. She knew, that once the danger was over, he was coming back to her. They felt secure with each other and Harry was very attracted to her. 

Ginny talked sense to him and they could be themselves with each other. They could make each other laugh. They were just right for each other. 

Harry noticed Lavender flipping her hair as the memories of what was around the corner came flooding back. The Won Won era was looming. Harry cringed. 

Albus had been clear that they were not to interfere in the events of the timeline unless vital, due to unforeseen circumstances caused by the ripple effect and they were to imitate their previous actions as much as possible.

Harry had to endure the overtly sexual displays of this particular courtship for the second time. Ron had been an idiot this year. He'd already started to act up this term. They’d already had a diabolical practice with Ron throwing all his toys out of the pram. Ron’s nerves and lack of confidence needed addressing. At least Harry knew what to do for certain this time around. 

Harry had the Felix Felicis potion ready to pretend to spike his pumpkin juice. It worked the first time. He'd have a quiet word with Draco. If he could imitate Hermione's outrage to spiking the drink like she had done the first time around and draw Ron's attention then the plan should work. Harry grimaced. There was a good possibility that Draco would simply refuse to get dragged into Ron's life. 

If it came to that then Ginny could do it instead. She'd understand his motivations. 

His mind thought back to what else had been happening this year. It was all such a muddle trying to get events into chronological order in his mind. He could remember what happened, but not when exactly. 

His eyes found Ginny’s as he smiled warmly at her. She gave him a slight nod in return with a small smile and then turned away. 

Harry put that little issue to one side. She was still with Dean at the moment. He was going to make it clear to her that he was keen though. 

He didn’t want to get caught in the mind game trap that Ron and Hermione had found themselves in. He was laying all his cards on the table with Ginny. He thought again of Ron and Hermione. None of that drama would be happening this year. 

That weird incident with the birds no longer existed. Hermione's frustration with Ron had finally made itself known. That wouldn't happen. The futile attempt Hermione had attempted later on to make Ron jealous by dating Cormac was no longer relevant.

Draco was simply going through the motions as Hermione. He was simply acting to the other Gryffindors as the consummate book-lover who gave them the occasional bossy lecture to maintain the illusion. It looked like Draco was putting a great deal of distance there with Ron too. He was spending more and more time with Hermione. As far as the school was concerned, they were working on their Project. 

Harry hoped that Ron would simply get bored of Lavender in the end and finish it properly. He thought of that odd situation in the infirmary and how upset Lavender had been with Ron's actions afterwards. Ron had let the whole sorry tale drag on for days until eventually, an upset Lavender had no choice but to finish it due to Ron's lack of communication with her. 

Hopefully, the entire Won Won era could actually be completed with a modicum of decorum this time around. None of the unpleasantness should be happening this time around. The truth would come out in the end and Ron and Hermione could pick up where they left off.

At this stage, all that happened this year was Ron calling the Slug Club pathetic but then he'd changed his tune when Hermione asked him to the Christmas party instead. Although, if Harry remembered rightly, they didn't go together in the end. Ron had gone off with Lavender.

Why had that been? 

Harry pursed his lips as he searched through his memories until he found it. That was it. Ron had been jealous that Krum had kissed Hermione. 

Harry frowned. Ron had treated Hermione to icy, sneering indifference because of it. It had made no sense to Harry at the time and Hermione had been visibly hurt by his attitude. The Krum kiss had been over a year before and Ron hadn’t shown any interest in Hermione at that time.

Harry wrinkled his nose when he remembered how weird the Yule Ball had got with Ron going off the deep end at Hermione with the most ridiculous accusations about her helping Kum and not Harry with the egg and how Krum was just using her.  

Harry thought again of the attacking birds. Ron had made plans to attend the Shughorn party with Hermione but had then had ended up with Lavender. Hermione had finally lost her temper completely with Ron over it. Ron had been adamant that he hadn't realised that it was supposed to have been a date and that he was a free agent. 

Harry had thought his argument weak at the time. Looking back, knowing what he knew now about Ron's feelings for Hermione, it seemed even more feeble. If Ron had just gone on that date with Hermione in the first place a great deal of aggravation could have been avoided. It was almost as if Ron had gone out of his way to cause trouble. 

Why had Ron done that to Hermione? He'd been annoyed she'd kissed Krum. Had he wanted to teach her a lesson? Harry didn't want to think like that, but Ron's actions in the future had been laced with a certain amount of petty viciousness. 

Ron always spoke of loyalty. Harry bit his lip in consideration of this. Hermione hadn't been disloyal to him, but she had displeased him by kissing Krum. Ron had gone out of his way to punish her by rubbing it in her face about Lavender for weeks. He had been incredibly disrespectful to Hermione and had clearly upset her by doing that. Ron had known that she had feelings for him by that point. Would Ron ever admit to this?

Harry didn't suppose he ever would. It wasn't Ron's style. 

When Ron had returned to them on the Hunt, Hermione had been livid with him. They'd awoken her from her sleep, without any warning and had just dropped that bombshell on her. She'd not handled it well.

Harry recalled the rage where she'd been hitting Ron in a sort of demented trance. She'd completely lost control. He had to admit to himself that was to be expected under the circumstances. Harry squirmed a little with regret at how the reunion had been handled. In hindsight, he should have waited for her to get her proper sleep and then explained what had happened in the forest before bringing Ron in to see her. They'd just sort of bombarded her with it all without any proper explanation. 

He scratched his head as he thought back to that night. He had followed the Doe without telling her. He'd taken her wand with him. He grimaced. No wonder Hermione didn't understand. She had assumed he had been with her at the tent all night and that Ron had just shown up. 

The stress of everything had caught up with her. They'd been down to one wand, death lurked around every corner and they'd both almost been killed by Tom. Harry understood that he had witnessed Hermione having a nervous breakdown. 

Harry had raised a Protego shield to stop the fighting, just as Hermione had done for Harry and Ron weeks before. 

'You think it's all going to be all right if you just say sorry?' Hermione had been incredulous with Ron.

'Well, what else can I say?' Ron had shouted at her. 

He'd been glad at the time that Ron had shouted at her. Why had he been so glad that Ron was fighting back against Hermione? Ron hadn't been back five minutes after deserting her before he'd started raising his voice at her again. Why was Ron actually fighting back when he was supposed to be guilt-ridden and remorseful about his behaviour? Harry had told him by the lake that Hermione had been crying for weeks because he'd left her. Ron had known for certain then the damage he'd done to her by leaving. He knew she was vulnerable. 

If Ginny had been crying for weeks over something he'd done to her, would he have started shouting at her on his return? Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair at that thought.  

Why didn't Ron just stay quiet and accept that she needed to rant at him for the way he'd treated her? Ron had somehow managed to turn it all around to make out he was the one who was being unfairly judged for his actions and that Hermione was being unreasonable with him. She had begged Ron not to leave her but he'd gone anyway. 

He'd abandoned her to Death Eaters and a Dark Lord. Harry had seen for himself what Tom had intended for Hermione's future. She had been close to getting sent to Azkaban where her future was to be one of torture and rape until eventually one of those Death Eaters murdered her. A ghastly fate Hermione was sure to have been aware of. Only the Vortex had prevented that. 

Ron had promised to stand by her through it all. He had broken that promise. 

Harry felt his throat get dry as he thought more deeply about that day and truly looked at the big picture of what Ron had done to her. He'd been so caught up with Tom he hadn't allowed himself to think that far ahead to the reality of Hermione's fate if they had failed. When he put it in perspective, Hermione's response to Ron's return suddenly didn't seem like such an overreaction. 

Harry considered all that had been happening in their world. Students at Hogwarts were being tortured. Innocent people were being thrown into Azkaban and murdered. Dementors were feasting everywhere. 

Why couldn't Ron, just once, take a well-deserved bollocking without turning it into yet another argument? He just couldn't seem to stop himself. 

Harry had seen what Ron's fears truly were when the locket had been opened. He had felt so sorry for him. For his insecurities about Hermione and his mother. Neither of these insecurities had any truth to them. They had been figments of Ron's imagination.

'Least loved.' 

Harry heard the whisper of the locket Horcrux in his mind. 

'The girl who prefers your friend. Second best always. Eternally overshadowed.' 

Now his mind was clear he focused on those particular words. 

Ron's actions had always been odd towards Hermione. He could compliment her spell work and intelligence in one moment and then start an argument with her in the next breath. His behaviour was unpredictable. He had a habit of ignoring her when he was in a strop. When she had ignored him in return, he would put on his bewildered and hurt face that Hermione could be so callous to him. 

Least loved.

Harry sipped on more juice as he contemplated those two words.

Why was Ron so insecure about her feelings towards him? Was it because, deep down, he knew he didn't treat her as well as he could? He was jealous of other men. Even him. Was it because he was worried that she would end up comparing them and she would find him lacking?

Where was the love for Hermione from Ron? 

He'd had a golden opportunity on the Hunt to prove it to her. All he'd had to do was stand by her side and support her. He wanted to be first in her life. The locket had shown Harry that. However, when push came to shove, he'd proved he couldn't always be relied upon to provide that for her.   

Harry glanced over again to his side as Ron devoured a pie as he considered the future. 

If anything it was Hermione who had every reason to think she was the least loved by Ron. He had snapped at her repeatedly. He had taunted her with Lavender. He had left her to fend for herself in a world where she was in great danger.

His remorse on his return hadn't seemed that authentic in hindsight. If he had picked up on that, then Hermione probably had too. 

Harry remembered that book Ron had about charming witches. From what little Harry could recall, the only advice he had taken from that was to compliment her on her spell work. 

Harry had been so happy that the Horcrux had been destroyed and that Ron had dragged him out of the lake. Looking back, if he'd woken Hermione, they would have had the same result. Probably better in fact. She would have had the sense to take the Horcrux off him first before he went into the water to retrieve the sword. 

It had taken less than five minutes and even then Ron needed to be persuaded to stab the locket. 

Harry could see Ron out of the corner of his eye as he crammed some more grub down his gullet. 

Hermione had questioned how he had found them and then proceeded to explain very clearly that they needed to know so they could avoid being found by any more unwanted visitors. 

Ron had glared at her for saying that.   

He'd been so happy that Ron was back that he'd brushed over the shouting and glaring Ron had issued out to Hermione on his return. 

He'd sung his praises to Hermione at how Ron had saved his life. 

Hermione had seemed to retreat into herself after that. 

Ron and Harry were back to being best friends immediately after their big fallout.

Everything had gone back to normal between the trio.

Hadn't it? 

Had he spared a thought for what had been going through Hermione's mind when she'd first seen Ron return to them? From her perspective, she'd been led to believe Ron wasn't actually that bothered if she lived or died for weeks.

She hadn't once spoken to him about what she was truly feeling. Had she simply assumed that Ron's feelings meant so much more to him than hers did? Is that why she had never confided in him?

Ron had been such a contrast to Hermione in those later days. He'd made it clear that he was once again the fun friend that Harry needed and Hermione had been pushed to the back. Again. 

The Hunt had somehow been turned around to be all about Ron. Not once had the locket alluded to what Ron actually thought of Hermione as a person. There was not one single word spoken that echoed that Ron loved her. It was very much focused on Ron feeling like he was second to Harry and his annoyance at being overshadowed by him. The focus had only been on what she thought of him.

Harry watched Ron chug down some more juice.

Ron was one of the laziest people he knew and he was being honest when he considered him. Off the top of his head, he remembered him training with them in the Room of Requirement. He was making an effort at Quidditch. Harry's mind came to a stop. Ron rarely put the work into anything. He spent most of his time napping and eating. His attention to his classwork was, at best, minimal. Hermione had to carry him through much of it. Yet, somehow, Ron's greatest woe in his life was being regarded as second best.

Harry shook his ruminations off. He was overthinking things.

Ron was his best mate. He'd been in a frenzy at Malfoy Manor when Bellatrix was torturing Hermione.

Ron cared for her a great deal. He just had a funny way of showing that to her. 

Harry would helpfully give Ron a few nudges and some wisdom this time around so he could avoid certain calamities. 

This future wasn't going to be anything like the old one. Ron didn't have an inkling of how his future self would treat Hermione in the future. 

Harry gulped with a stark realisation. Unfortunately, Hermione remembered it all. 

Is that why she was she didn't seem as perturbed by this turn of events and the effect it would have on her relationship with Ron as he had assumed she would be? 

Had Hermione had second thoughts about Ron now she had some actual distance from him? What exactly was Draco saying to her about him? Hermione would have needed to explain the situation to him in order for him to act her properly. Harry blinked rapidly as another thought pierced his mind. Draco was seeing visions of her life. 

Harry had to reluctantly admit to himself that some of their moments together over the years had made him cringe and he had been friends with them both since the first year. How would some of these moments look to an outsider? 

Draco had dialled it down to zero with Ron so there was no immediate pressure there in the Ron and Hermione relationship timeline. 

Harry wasn’t getting involved in that shit show voluntarily for all the galleons in Gringotts.

Hermione's love life had been arduous enough to witness the first time. 

If she wanted to discuss it with him then he’d listen to her, but for now, he decided to steer clear of the subject completely.   

He glanced over again at Hermione. 

Brown eyes seemed to sense him as she glanced over at him and then quickly looked away. 

Harry understood. They had made plans to meet later in the week in private. No one else could suspect what was happening. Harry had his invisibility cloak for when he’d go to hang out with Hermione in the Room of Requirement. She was using Draco's cloak at the moment.

She had briefly explained the horrors of sharing a room with Crabbe and Goyle and the reasons for her change of residence to Harry as Draco had smirked. 

Something was niggling at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite think what it was. He left it alone for now. 

He had Quidditch to sort out today. Katie Bell was still on the team so he could avoid the politics of choosing her replacement that had caused some discomfort in the original timeline. Dean had replaced Katie much to Seamus’s annoyance originally. However, that had been avoided.  

They just had Quidditch practise to get through. 

Later that day Harry was staring around the pitch with a bewildered expression. 

Harry had forgotten just how bad this practice session was, or perhaps he had mentally blocked it out. Ron let in half a dozen goals, mainly from Ginny, then he’d started to get more erratic and had then punched Demelza Robins in the mouth by accident. 

Harry kept positive like he had done the first time around. Ron had got more and more morose about his performance. Harry had murmured encouragement to him.

This was only temporary, Harry kept telling himself. It was going to get better. 

They'd made their way back to Gryffindor tower and pushed open the tapestry to take their usual shortcut back to the common room as Harry's heart skipped a beat. They had come face to face with Ginny and Dean in the corridor who were kissing as if their lives depended on it. 

It all came flooding back what had been niggling at Harry. This was it. 

The big brother, sister argument that had set the catalyst for weeks of unpleasantness was going to happen right now. Harry felt his stomach squirm.   

He felt the same sensation as he had done the last time at the sight of Ginny kissing Dean. Hot blood surged within him and a need to punch Ginny’s current boyfriend filled him. 

Harry breathed deeply to control himself. This was temporary. He just had to bide his time. He focused on his breathing. Merlin. He was being a prick. Dean hadn’t done anything wrong here. 

Harry had almost got himself back under control when Ron began to throw his toys around.  

‘Oi!’ 

'Let's just go,' Harry said in as calm a voice as he could muster. 

Ron completely ignored him. 

Harry closed his eyes as his toes curled under his feet. He knew what was going to happen next. He reluctantly lifted his eyes to watch. It had been mortifying enough to witness this row the first time around. 

He watched the ugly spectacle repeat itself with a warped sort of fascination. Dean had been more than glad to leave at the death glares Ron was giving him. Ginny more than held her own. It was interesting to observe in a way though from Harry’s perspective. Now he knew what the future held for him and Ginny, he found himself focusing more on Ron. Before, his focus had been split between them. 

Harry shifted awkwardly on his feet as Ron began his tirade. Harry bit his lip at the absurd situation that was unfolding in front of him. Ginny had been perfectly correct. This had been a deserted corridor where Ginny and Dean were indulging in some perfectly innocent snogging as those that were dating were inclined to do. 

Ron had reacted as if she was the whore of Babylon. 

He had laid down the law to her in no uncertain terms. 

‘I don’t want to find my own sister snogging people in public!’ 

Harry stared at Ron silently. Ginny defended herself like he remembered her doing.

Harry agreed with her. It really was none of Ron’s business what Ginny did. 

Ron had to push it. According to him it actually was his business what Ginny did in her personal life. 

Harry frowned at that. Ginny wasn’t his property. Harry was dating her in the future and he didn’t see her as his property. She was his girlfriend who also had a life and mind of her own. The only thing he expected from her was to be faithful to him as he would be to her. 

‘D’you think I want people saying my sister’s a-’ 

'What?' Ginny seethed out as she drew her wand. 'Go on. Finish that sentence. I dare you.' 

Harry felt bile rushing up into his throat. That was his future girlfriend that Ron was insinuating was nothing but a slut. 

Harry stood dumbly at this. He knew he should be saying something at this point but his mind had screeched to a full stop. 

‘You know exactly what I think you are,’ Ron spat. 

‘Just because you’ve never snogged anyone in your life doesn’t mean you get to call those that do names,’ 

‘Shut your mouth!’ Ron bellowed.

Harry stared at Ron. His voice had gone so loud it had almost deafened him. He’d gone maroon with anger. 

‘No!’ yelled Ginny in retaliation. ‘The only experience you’ve had is when Aunt Muriel kisses you. Don’t think I don’t see you slobbering after phlegm either.’ 

Harry did a confused double-take at that. Phlegm. Right. Their original petty nickname for Fleur. Before they’d all figured out that under the cool veneer of bored, pretentious arrogance was actually a very decent woman.

Ron was glaring at his sister with supreme anger. Harry was taken back to the Horcrux Hunt just before Ron had walked out. He’d looked like this then too. 

‘Try getting yourself a girlfriend,’ Ginny said to him in a hiss. ‘Maybe then you won’t be so bothered by what everyone else is doing.’ 

Ron pulled his own wand out at that and pointed it at her. 

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’ Ron roared. ‘Just because I don’t slut it up in public like you-!’  

Harry finally stepped in the middle at that point. His head was spinning. 

Harry felt Ginny trying to push him out the way. 

‘Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or do you have a picture of Aunt Muriel under your pillow?’ 

‘You-’ 

It was the orange light from Ron’s wand towards Ginny that missed her by a few inches that had Harry freeze. 

Ron had, in temper, attacked Ginny. He had aimed it at her to hurt her. Harry's protectiveness towards her had only heightened since they had started dating. He glared at Ron. The same Ron Harry had felt sorry for when Hermione had lost her temper with him. The same Ron that had reached for his wand in the tent against him. 

All of his memories were now stark. A lot of people eventually lost their tempers with Ron. 

At some point, Harry might have to actually ask himself who was the problem here.

Harry pushed him against the wall. 

‘Have you lost your fucking mind? That almost hit her,’ Harry snapped at him.  

Ron was staring at Harry with rage now as Harry watched his face contort into one of fury. 

‘Harry’s snogged Cho Chang,’ Ginny sounded in tears now. ‘Hermione snogged Viktor. Only you act like it’s something disgusting.’ 

Ron shoved Harry away from him as he glared at both of them. 

‘Nice to see whose side you're really on,’ Ron said with a growl to Harry. 

‘Sides?’ Harry seethed back. ‘Is that what you think this is? Do you actually think that I’ll just stand by and let you hurt Ginny because I’m on your side? It doesn’t work like that.’ 

Ginny froze as she stared at Harry with an open mouth. 

‘She pulled her wand first,’ Ron said in a surly tone.  

‘Which she didn’t use. Quite honestly, I admire her restraint after the way you spoke to her. A lot of girls would have hexed you into the wall for talking to them like that.’ 

Ron’s eyes widened as Ginny continued looking at Harry with an incredulous expression. 

Harry shook his head at him as he turned to Ginny. 

‘Go and calm down somewhere else, Ginny. I’ve got this.’ 

She peered at him silently and then turned around and disappeared. 

Harry considered all he knew about Ron and decided to try the calm approach. Yelling at Ron wouldn't solve anything. It would only make things worse.  

‘This temper of yours. You need to learn to control it better.’ 

‘What? My temper?’ Ron spluttered. ‘That’s rich coming from you. Don't you remember fifth year?’ 

Harry stared at him. ‘You are aware I have a connection to Tom, don’t you? It wasn’t just teenage hormones that caused that, and besides, I’ve never tried to hurt my friends and I’ve worked really hard on getting better.’ 

Ron huffed out. ‘Who is Ginny to you anyway? You wouldn’t even know her if it wasn’t for me. I’ll talk to her any way I like. You heard how she spoke to me.’ 

Harry stepped back and just watched his red face for a long moment in contemplation of his next words. 

‘You instigated all of that. You insulted her. You tried to humiliate her in front of Dean and me. What did you think was going to happen?' 

‘She has no right to speak to me like,’ Ron spat. ‘She’s my sister and I don’t want her showing me up. I know what people say about girls like her.’ 

Harry took a long, deep breath. ‘She was kissing her boyfriend. That was all. No one would think badly of her for that.’ 

Ron didn’t respond to that.

Harry looked at him with a curious expression. ‘What was that really about with Ginny?’ 

Ron sneered at him as Harry thought back. Knowing Ron as well as he did now he was beginning to see there was usually an ulterior motive when he lost his temper. 

Harry's mind went back to when Ron started getting grumpy that day and he made the connection. 

‘Is all this happening because she scored a few goals against you today?’ 

Ron scowled at him as Harry lifted his hands up in bewilderment.

Bingo. The cause of all this aggravation was Ginny scoring against him in practice. 

Harry tried a different approach. ‘Ginny is an exceptionally good chaser. She has the talent to go pro. It’s no reflection on your abilities that she could get past you. You're new to all this. You're still learning. All the keepers on the other teams have been bested by her many times and they all have far more experience than you do.’

Ron pursed his lips and looked away from Harry. 

Harry peered at him. ‘You do understand that she's trying to help you, don’t you? She's on your side. She wants you to save these goals. This is how you get better. You train. You work hard and you will improve. I promise you that. When you're relaxed you play well. It's only your nerves and confidence that is letting you down. The better the players are that you're competing against, the better it is for your game too. Would you prefer it if she patronised you and threw you a few feeble quaffles that a toddler could save? That is not going to help you in the slightest. In fact, it would work against you in a real match.’ 

Ron didn’t say anything to that but his colour had returned to only a slight red.  

Harry scratched his head. 

‘She shouldn’t have said those things about me,’ Ron said in a low voice. 

‘You shouldn’t have gone for the jugular with her in the first place. You were out of order and I think you know that. Ginny is going to stand up for herself. You upset her. She’s not a doormat. You of all people should know that.’

Ron stayed silent for a long moment and refused to make eye contact with him.  

‘Come on. Let’s go,’ Harry said after a few beats.

Ron didn't say anything to that but he seemed to have calmed down enough to follow Harry away from the corridor.

They made their way back to Gryffindor House in silence.  

Harry knew from experience that Ron would be in a foul mood for a while, but at least he wasn't exploding right now. 

‘D’you think Hermione did kiss Krum?’ Ron asked abruptly as they arrived at the entrance. 

Harry paled. Knowing what he knew now he knew how tactful he needed to be. 

‘I don’t know. She never said anything to me about it. Even if she did it was a long time ago. Why does it matter?’ he asked cautiously. 

He watched with a sinking heart as Ron’s face seemed to grow darker at that. 

‘Dilligrout,’ Ron said the password in a low voice to the fat lady. 

Harry rolled his eyes at this deja vu.

With Ron, you think you’d dealt with one problem, only for another one to take its place.

It looked very much like he was in for another week of Ron and his irrationality. 

Still, with Lavender on the horizon, Ron would cheer up.

Harry groaned at the memories of them being draped over each other for the rest of the year. 

Still, it was a small price to pay if Ron perked up. 

In the original timeline, Ron had been in a strop for days after this argument with Ginny. He’d begun to ignore Hermione immediately and had been lashing out at everyone. 

Harry sighed. He was probably exaggerating this in his mind. It couldn't be as bad as he remembered it being. 

He’d handled Ron as well as could be expected under the circumstances tonight anyway. 

He didn't recall saying much of anything in the original timeline to Ron. Maybe this little pep talk might help Ron. He needed to know these things. 

He’d been as annoyed as Ron at seeing Ginny kissing Dean, although that had been for very different reasons but he'd kept quiet. 

He’d been having these new feelings for Ginny and hadn’t wanted to rock the boat with Ron. He'd been worried about how Ron was going to react if he and Ginny had got together.

Harry shrugged to himself. He’d just spoken some home truths to Ron. Things that needed to be said.

He’d let Draco know in the morning what to expect. When he’d been in the office with them the night before they had spoken of the original timeline. Hermione had mentioned she had spoken to Draco and informed him that this was a difficult phase with Ron and he'd been prone to excessive mood swings.  

Harry had watched Draco give Hermione a withering glance at that statement, but he'd made no comment. 

He doubted Draco would give a shit about Ron’s mood swings.  If anything he’d probably be relieved to know he wouldn’t be expected to even make small talk with Ron anymore. 

Harry prepared for bed as a grumpy Ron pulled his drapes around him.

Meanwhile, in the Room of Requirement, Draco was building up his courage to speak to Hermione about what he was feeling. This was proving much easier said than done to do. 

For two hours he had waited for the right moment to address this rather sensitive issue.

They were both finishing off the biography session for their project on the late muggleborn wizards and witches who had passed through the centuries.

Hermione especially was very pleased with all they had accomplished and had been chattering throughout to Draco about all her discoveries.  

‘Right. This is the historical section done. I have to say, your analysis on Morgan was brilliant,’ she announced with a flourish as she placed the stack of parchment on her desk.  

Draco looked down at the impressive pile from the chair he was sitting on.

'Thank you,' he murmured at the compliment.  

‘There’s so much more to do,’ Hermione said with a brilliant smile. ‘Dumbledore is going to arrange several interviews with notable muggleborns for us. I need you to borrow, er, the blond boy’s camera. Col....’ she trailed off as she squinted at Draco. 

‘Colin?’ Draco said with a light smile. 

‘Right, yes. That’s his name. Colin Creevey,’ Hermione said with delight. ‘Oh, good. I remembered.’ 

Draco nodded politely at that. Now the immediate pressure was off her, Hermione was starting to pay a little more attention to her surroundings. 

‘We can take some photographs of them to go into the book,’ Hermione carried on in an excited tone. ‘We already have copies of the portraits to go into the historical section. Also, several buildings that were designed and built by muggleborns are in Diagon Alley. I thought we could take a trip, incognito of course, and take some location shots. I have a large brew of polyjuice that should be ready in a couple of weeks. We can swing by hairdressers in London and just pick two people at random. We've got your cloak to do that with. We should be safe that way.’ 

Draco nodded his agreement. ‘I’d like that. It will be nice to get out of the castle as well. We can use the secret passage before they block it. We’ll go early just to avoid any trouble, just to make sure.’ 

Hermione grinned with excitement. 'This project has already surpassed my expectations. Even if we can't get it published I'll make it into my own proper book. I do hope we can get this into circulation though. This book is so needed in our world. All those people contributed so much to the Wizarding World. They need to be remembered properly. Not just as forgotten footnotes in ancient books.' 

Draco watched her cheer with a smile. 

Hermione returned to the pile of parchment as she began to shuffle through them again to double-check they were in order. Draco had noticed how diligent she was with anything to do with parchment. 

He cleared his throat and then became overcome with the nerves. Hermione was still focusing on the parchment. 

When it became obvious there was no right moment to address what he needed to, Draco realised he had to simply pull off the plaster.

He opened his mouth to speak at the same time as Hermione launched herself to the bookshelf to pull out another leather-bound book from the dozens already up there.

'Dumbledore has been such a legend lending us all these books,' she said to Draco with her back to him. 

‘Hermione,’ he said. ‘I need for you to put the book down. I need your full attention. This is important.’ 

Hermione had a pained look on her face as her eyes swivelled back and forth. 

‘Please,’ Draco muttered. 

This piqued Hermione’s interest as she moved back to the bed and settled herself down and gave him an expectant look. 

Draco looked at her, opened his mouth to speak and then blushed bright red. 

‘Oh, Salazar,’ he whispered as his throat went dry. 

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked with interest. He looked most peculiar. 

‘Right, well. There’s no easy way to say this...’ 

A silence fell as Draco struggled to form a single word. 

Hermione was most intrigued by this. ‘I don’t believe I have ever once in my life seen you at a loss for words.’ 

Draco made an odd sort of noise and then took a deep breath.  

‘You know how Harry had these cravings to kiss you?’ 

Hermione nodded. 

‘And you know how he dreamt of kissing you?’ 

‘Yes,’ Hermione said slowly. ‘I was there, Draco. It wasn’t that long ago.’ 

Draco inhaled deeply. ‘Right. Well. I sort of, well, what I mean to say...’

He gave her a helpless look as Hermione looked back in an encouraging manner. 

‘I, er, last night, I dreamt about kissing you. Well, almost. I woke up before the good part, I mean the kissing part,’ he said in a rushed manner. 

Hermione froze. 

‘I, er. I dreamt I was at home, in the garden by the oak tree,’ Draco told her when no response was forthcoming. 

He peered at her, looking for any sign of awareness, but found none. He pushed on. 

‘You were there. It was like a normal dream. It was all hazy and stuff. I was back in my body and you were you again. I er, you asked me to touch you. Which I did. I went to kiss you and then I woke up.’

Draco gulped at the blank look in Hermione’s eyes.

‘Do you reckon it’s the Vortex again?' he asked. 'That it’s saying if we were to kiss then we could change back? It worked giving Harry his memories back. It might work like that for us.’ 

Hermione still hadn’t moved one tiny little facial muscle. 

‘Hermione?’

She looked like a statue.

Hermione seemed to remember he was still in the room with her. 

‘You dreamt of almost kissing me?’ she asked in a quavering voice. 

‘In the dream, I wanted to,’ Draco answered her honestly. 

‘Right,’ Hermione said as she looked back at Draco with an indefinable expression on her face.

‘Well?’ Draco asked in a pensive tone. ‘Have you had any dreams about me like that?’ 

‘No,’ she shot back quickly. Too quickly. 

Draco picked up on that immediately. 

‘You sound a little too defensive,’ he pointed out to her. 

Hermione pretended to be very interested in a picture of a horse on the wall. 

‘Have you been having any thoughts about me in that way?’ he tried again. 

The maroon colour of her face did not contrast well with his white-blond hair. 

Draco felt his tummy do a little somersault at this non-verbal admission. 

'I may have had some thoughts about you,' Hermione said in a strained voice. 'I've not dreamt about you and me together as you have, though.' 

Draco took a few moments to take this news in. 

‘I think it could be the Vortex again,’ he said. 'It could be leading us like it did Harry.’ 

‘Do you really think it’s the Vortex?’ 

‘Well. It makes sense. I mean, why now? It must be the Vortex doing this.'

Hermione frowned. 'It would explain these feelings we've been having.'

Draco pulled at that thread. ‘So, you have been looking at me that way?’ 

Hermione gave a tiny nod. ‘I didn't before, but yes. I've had some thoughts.’ 

The room felt rather warm all of a sudden. 

‘In what way are you thinking of me?’ Draco asked in a soft voice.

She looked like she was ready to bolt at any second. 

Hermione made an indecipherable little noise that Draco didn’t have a chance of translating. 

Draco took a deep breath. ‘I dreamt of us. We were both in our proper bodies. I put my arms around you, then I moved them down lower to reach under your dress. Then in the dream, you started to slide my shirt off. Then I woke up.’

The last bit was muttered in a rather grieved tone as Hermione looked up and studied him. 

‘I, yes,’ Hermione admitted. ‘It was something similar. It was how Harry said it was. It feels like a sort of craving.’ 

Draco gave a sharp intake of breath at that announcement. His eyes raked over her, but she was looking down at her hands. 

Draco raised an eyebrow when she failed to embellish that sentence.

‘And?’ he asked with a slight upward curl to his lips as a smug expression flittered over his face. 

‘Take that look off my face,’ Hermione said in a clipped voice, but without any venom. 

Draco had that rather proud look on her face that she used to normally associate with him. 

Draco managed to straighten his lips with some effort. That Hermione had been having those sorts of thoughts about him thrilled him. He calmed down when he thought a little more deeply. It was most probably artificial attraction if it was the Vortex that was causing this. 

‘I er, I’ve also been thinking about you when I’m actually awake,’ Draco told her. 

A ghost of a smile fluttered over Hermione's face at that. 

Hermione fiddled with the blanket as she slowly turned to meet his eyes.

‘So. Do you think we should kiss and see what happens?’ she asked him. 

‘I do. It seems like it could be a sign.’ 

Hermione gazed at him. At her own face. ‘I don’t know how I feel about kissing myself.’ 

‘Well, you're not. You’d be kissing me. If we close our eyes I’m sure it won’t be too odd. I’m prepared to do this if it means we can go back to our real selves. It’s worth a try at least.’ 

Hermione exhaled slowly. ‘I agree. I can’t think of anything else that could change us back.’ 

Draco gave her a small smile.

‘Right. How shall we do this then? On the bed or standing?’ 

Hermione blinked at this bizarre proposition. 

‘I think the more contact we have the better so let's try this standing,’ she said slowly. 

‘Are you alright? ‘Draco asked her. 

‘My life just gets weirder. I’m about to snog me.’ 

Draco gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Spare a thought for me. This will be my third man on man kiss this week.’ 

She looked at him questioningly. 

Draco gave her a small smirk. ‘Viktor visited me last night.’ 

Hermione blushed red again. 'Well, that's not real, real. You and your encounters with Daphne and Hannah were quite the eye-opener too.' 

Draco grinned. 

'Mother told me to explore all avenues before I settled down. She told me that Hogwarts was a place to find myself and work out what sort of woman I actually wanted to marry.' 

'I hardly think she was encouraging you to be snogging witches in broom cupboards,' Hermione said dryly. 

Draco gave a bark of laughter at that. 

'That's what finding yourself is all about. Look at you and Krum. Look at Ron. In their own way, they helped you along too. You have to live it to know what you truly want from your partner.' 

Hermione lifted her eyebrows at that but had to admit Draco had a point. 

‘I can see why you like Viktor. He was very respectful to you,’ Draco gave her a grin. ‘Her my oh nee.’

He said this in as deep a voice as he could muster, but he was giving her a genuine smile that she returned ruefully. 

Draco made his way to the centre of the room and beckoned her over. 

Hermione inhaled sharply then stood up and joined him.

‘Right,’ Hermione said with her bossy voice back on as she established the rules. ‘We’re going back to front here.’ 

Draco watched her as Hermione faffed about. He found a pale hand on his shoulder and he stared into grey eyes. 

‘This is so strange doing this to someone shorter than me,’ Hermione murmured out loud. 

Draco bit his lip. He was incredibly nervous. 

‘Put your hand on my waist,’ Draco said. ‘You’ll need to lean down.’ 

‘Got it,’ Hermione said as Draco watched himself move closer. 

Hermione looked down into brown eyes that were watching her expectantly. 

She couldn’t help but notice how they darkened slightly. 

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. 

‘Right, anything or nothing could happen. The Vortex started working within a few seconds when you kissed Harry,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Brace yourself.’ 

Draco lifted his hand to put on her shoulder as Hermione leaned down to him and closed her eyes. 

Draco kept his eyes open that little bit longer as their lips met. 

They both felt a pleasant tingle at first. They pressed together with slightly more pressure as a delicious sensation began to move down their bodies. They moved slowly at first. Tentatively, but their pace began to gradually increase. 

They both felt their blood start to quicken and their magic flickered wildly inside of them.

Draco felt a moan about to leave his lips so he quickly eased away from her. The situation was already awkward enough as it was.  

Draco opened his eyes to look around him. 

Hermione followed him as they broke apart.

There were was no bubble. There were no bright, swirling colours or noises, but they both felt a little lightheaded.  

Draco frowned with confusion.

'I don't understand. I was so sure something was happening.' 

Hermione gazed into brown eyes with a speculative look. 

Draco stared back at her. 'I definitely felt something flare up inside of me. What about you?' 

Hermione looked around the room with a distant look on her face.

'Yes. I did. I could feel our magic rising up,' she said in a quiet voice. 

She separated from Draco and sat back on the bed with her thinking face on.

'I think we're on the right track. The Vortex is setting the pace. We're not meant to change back yet,' she murmured. 

Draco's face lit up. 

'I don't think it's the right time,' she said quietly. 'I think we're like this for a reason.' 

Draco sat back on the chair with a thoughtful look on his face. 

'Do you think once we figure out the reason, we'll change back?' 

Hermione looked at him steadily. 'I think so.' 

Draco gave a relieved sigh at that.

Hermione gave him a brittle smile. 

Draco's eyes fell to the batch of polyjuice brewing in the corner. 

'Hermione. I think we should try that again, soon, but polyjuiced as each other. It could help us relax a bit more. It could help. At least, it won't be so weird as kissing ourselves.' 

'Yes. I think that's a good idea.' 

Draco gave her a big smile. 

'That was definitely something different. I've never felt like that before when I've kissed someone. I felt that kiss everywhere inside me. I'm still tingling. You?' 

'Yes. That was certainly distinctive,' she said faintly.  

Draco gazed at her for a long moment and then looked away. His eyes caught the clock. 

'Bugger. I didn't know it was so late. I've got to go.' 

Hermione walked him to the door as he turned to her.

'This means something. I'm sure of it,' he said excitedly.

She gave him a small smile and then waved him goodbye and watched herself disappear down the dark corridor. 

She prepared for bed as her mind wandered. Her body was still humming, but it felt more sublime than physical.

As she lay under the sheets she thought of that kiss. It was certainly different to anything she'd known before. 

It didn't feel anything like it had felt kissing Ron or Viktor.

It felt so much better than those kisses had.

Draco could be right. The Vortex could simply be working its strange magic.

The alternative option was that she'd actually really, really enjoyed snogging Draco Malfoy. 

Or, even more disturbingly than that, it was actually option number three which was that she was actually a narcissist who genuinely found herself sexually attractive. 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in panic at this mortifying self-diagnosis.

Oh, Merlin. She really needed to speak to a therapist. 

Draco lay back on the bed as his fingers touched his lips, her lips for reassurance. They were still tingling.

This had to be the Vortex. It just had to be. That kiss had felt otherworldly. 

Draco peered into the darkness as he contemplated what had just transpired. 

He'd kissed Hermione. True, she was him, but technically she was him right now, so it still counted. 

Draco smiled softly to himself.  He could still feel her against his lips. 

His body felt much more soothed than it had done. 

He knitted his brow together in consternation as the realisation of what he'd just done sunk in. 

He'd kissed Hermione and he hadn't just liked it. It was so much more than that. He wanted to do it again. He wanted to keep on kissing her. This sensation was addictive. 

He had just defied his family's entire belief system. 

Draco felt his heart thud gently at this almighty rebellion against them. 

It was the Vortex causing these delicious sensations. He repeated that single mantra to himself. 

It had to be the Vortex because if it wasn't, he'd just experienced the most naturally greatest kiss of his life with a muggleborn. 

He curled up in a ball at this incredible revelation and let sleep overcome him.  

Chapter Text

Draco woke from a night of heavy visions with a languorous stretch.

He wondered if that had been due to the kiss. He brightened at that thought. The kiss. That most wonderful of kisses.

He recalled how his body had responded to her. Hermione's body even. He had felt it go through him to such an extent he'd almost advertised his enjoyment to Hermione.

She'd felt it too. He felt a smile appear on his face automatically.

He was very much looking forward to the next one. Obviously, it was strictly for research purposes. He would be very professional with Hermione. 

The visions that night had been seemingly random. He’d darted all around her timeline, slipping from one vision straight into another. 

He dreamt of a much younger Hermione, kneeling on a stone floor with a handheld mirror looking for something around corners. He'd wondered for a moment just what she was up to then flinched when bright yellow eyes reflected back at her and an immediate blackness took over. He knew then that was the Basilisk from their second year. She's been petrified. 

He'd seen Harry who looked how he did in the fifth year finally losing his temper with both Ron and Hermione due to their arguments. He'd felt Hermione's guilt at how much she'd taken it for granted that the constant back and forth arguments between her and Ron hadn't been getting on Harry's last nerve. 

He'd had a front-row seat to Ron's meltdown on the Hunt. She had begged him not to leave. He'd been with her as she chased after Ron as an enraged Harry looked ready to explode. He'd felt Hermione's panic and fear. Ron had disapparated to god knows where. 

The vision had eased into one not long after that. Harry was sleeping across the room as she sat with that poisonous locket around her neck. For what felt like the longest time, he'd simply sat in her body in the tent as Hermione simply stared into space. The emptiness that had possessed her body was almost unbearable to him. There was nothing there in her to feel. No hope. No future. No joy. There was just an unerring feeling of desolation. 

The relief when he drifted away from her was tantamount. It didn't improve when he came face to face with a returning Ron. She'd been fast asleep. Harry's voice sounded in his ear. Her first instinct was panic that they'd been discovered. Draco could feel her emotions deviate sharply. When she saw Ron, her emotions, already on a tightrope, exploded. It wasn't so much painful, but the way her body felt was similar to the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse. Her nerves were utterly shredded at the sight of him. She was disconnected. There was rage and heartbreak inside her. Ron stood there with a small smile on his face. There was madness in the way she launched herself at him. She had wanted him to hurt the way he had hurt her. 

A Protego shield came out of nowhere that knocked her backwards onto the floor with force. 

Then Ron had shouted at her. He felt her body clench with more anger. Harry was saying something. Ron had saved his life. He could sense her confusion. Harry was looking at her with a solemn expression. He'd forgiven Ron. He'd forgiven him, just like that. 

Draco had then felt all the strength in Hermione's body leave her. 

He was then whisked away into the odd sight of a life-size wizard chessboard and watched the trio play to get across. He’d seen Ron sacrifice himself so Harry could go on. He’d witnessed a heartwarming talk that Hermione had with Harry before he went on to face Tom. Hermione had told Draco everything he needed to know about their early years. Tom had somehow possessed Professor Quirrell by attaching his head to the back of the professor's head.

Draco hadn't quite known what to make of that. It was weird even by magical standards. At least he knew what had been under that ridiculous turban now. 

Draco had stared at a young Harry and Ron as the game of chess had been played. They had looked so young and hopeful here. Neither of them had that bitterness that Draco had seen in them as they’d matured. This was certainly a better time for the trio. 

He’d seen Hermione take Harry and her on another time-travelling adventure when they rescued Sirius Black. Harry’s stag Patronus was just as wonderful as she had told him it was. Draco had felt his magic rush through Hermione as he watched Harry show who was boss to all of those Dementors. 

He'd also wanted to cheer at the sight. 

He had glided into a memory of being in a sort of knackered old shack as Draco had seen Ron stand up to Sirius when they thought he had in fact been the one to betray the Potters. Professor Lupin had been there too. Draco gasped when Snape had also joined in with the fiasco. This was the day they had identified the true traitor of the Potters.

It had been an experience Draco had paid close attention to. 

Most of the important players on the light side were in this room. Draco had looked around at each of them. All of them were from different backgrounds. All very different people and all with one aim. To finish Tom. These were his people now. Draco stared at Sirius. His relative. A man he wished he had been able to know. His fate had been tragic. It was these people here who had helped push Harry forward one way or the other.  

Draco wondered at that. He was now one of them. It was him who had given Harry his memories back. He had helped give the light side a second chance. Hermione and he had given Albus the information on the locations of Tom's Horcruxes. No one had to twist his arm. No one had to pour Veritaserum down his throat to do this. He was part of the team now. It was at that moment that Draco realised just how far down the rabbit hole he truly was. He had aided the Order of the Phoenix with vital information. No longer was he in the shadows. There was no way back now. 

Draco understood his path had been set the moment he had lowered his wand against Dumbledore. It had been cemented in stone the day he had failed to identify Harry. 

He was Tom's enemy now. That thought didn't frighten him as much as he had thought it would.

The Vortex was on their side. 

Draco had mused at the vile sight of the rat turning into Pettigrew. He’d seen the creep with his own eyes lurking in the Manor. He'd always made his skin crawl. The way his beedy little eyes had lingered too long at Luna had made Draco's nerves jangle. Draco had endured some very dark thoughts about him. He had gone so far as taking some poison from his mother's supply ready to lace the rat's drink if those ominous looks had continued. Thankfully Dobby had come to the rescue.  

The rat made him sick. 

Pettigrew was a Traitor. Draco gulped as he thought of that. He was a Traitor too.

Somehow though, Draco knew instinctively that they were very different people.

He'd seen the truth. A world with Tom in charge was not a world he wanted to live in. Only the maniacs would want to surround themselves in that eternal misery. 

Perspective. That’s what he was seeing here during his time in Hermione’s body. Her life. The good and the bad. It was all these incidents and moments that had shaped her. He understood more clearly her attachment to both Ron and Harry. They had been through so much together. They shared so much history. He was beginning to understand why she had been so defensive about Ron.

He’d slipped into a quiet memory. He had sitting outside a small cafe as his eyes glanced around. He could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance. He was in Paris. He recognised Hermione's mother who looked a little older than she had at the playground and a man who he assumed must be her father who sat opposite her. They were impeccably well dressed. Draco observed them. They were both quite slim. Hermione had her mother's eyes and her father's unruly hair. 

‘Hermione, darling. It’s time to tour the Louvre,’ her father said. 

‘Oh, brilliant. I’ve so been looking forward to this, dad.’ 

‘We know you have, pumpkin,’ her mother had said with a smile. 

Draco watched her hands reach down and then take an enormous book out of her bag and slam it on the table. 

‘The Louvre Museum. A History,’ she informed them of the title with a definite tone of awe as her parents both grinned at her enthusiasm. 

Draco had enjoyed the moment immensely. He’d felt her excitement at that day trip. 

He’d visited that same museum himself with his mother. 

Lucius had been off doing whatever it was his father did that day. He’d murmured something about seeing a business acquaintance. Draco hadn’t enquired further. He’d learnt from a young age not to ask questions about his father's business dealings. His cane was often wielded just a bit too close to him for comfort.  His mother had always gravitated somewhat to the muggle arts although she never spoke about that at the Wizarding society parties. 

Draco had accompanied her several times to the muggle Theatres in the West End. These trips were Narcissa’s guilty pleasure. Draco had to admit he had a liking for them too. 

His least auspicious moment that night had come in the early morning when he had seen himself calling Hermione the slur that now made his mouth taste bitter. 

He’d been expecting it, but it had still made for a sinking feeling. 

‘At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent.’ 

He’d felt her disdain for him and the rest of the Slytherin team for gloating at the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Lucius had bought them all the latest model brooms whilst the Gryffindors had to make do with their old ones. 

Draco remembered the shame he’d felt at those words and the brutal truth to them. He recalled the surge of anger towards her. He'd wanted to drag her down. He'd wanted to wipe that smug look off her face. 

He could feel her visible scorn for him as she glowered at his smug face. He watched his mouth open and then heard his voice speak those immortal words.

‘No one asked for your opinion, you filthy little mudblood.’ 

Draco felt her whole body freeze at that as the blond boy he barely recognised sneered back at her. He looked at his younger self in mortification. That had truly been the start of it all. That’s when it all got personal. 

He’d been such a spiteful idiot.

Looking at his younger self he was amazed that Hermione could be as civil as she was to him. More than that, she was actually being friendly to him now. It was more than he deserved. 

He was still staring at himself as her body seemed to settle into something he couldn’t immediately recognise. He focused more until he was able to familiarise himself with what this feeling was. 

He watched in a detached way as Ron’s spell backfired on him and Hermione rushed over to the redhead. 

The penny dropped as he watched Ron throw up slugs just what this emotion was inside of her. He felt the same emotion when he’d watched Fenrir Greyback punch Luna so hard she'd fallen onto the floor into a heap. 

It was pity. 

Harry spotted grey eyes walking into the common room as he quickly ambushed Draco in the early morning. 

Draco blinked wearily at Harry as he was hustled away. 

Draco felt himself dragged to a quiet alcove as Harry threw up a Muffliato charm. 

He looked at the black-haired boy expectantly. 

Harry looked him up and down. 

'This is Draco. This is Draco. This is Draco,' went the mantra in his head. 

‘I thought I’d better warn you. Ron knows about Krum. There was that whole argument with Ginny again. I'd forgotten when it had happened. I couldn't stop it. Ron wouldn't listen to me. She let it slip in the heat of the moment. He went to bed pissed off.’ 

Harry stared at Draco anxiously. 

Draco simply nodded to him as he took the information in. 

‘It’s fine,’ he said in a relaxed manner. ‘I don’t have to make small talk with him for a few months and I can handle a few dirty looks. Relax. I insist. This is not a problem.’ 

Harry hovered quietly for a moment. 

‘He might be a little bit of a git to you,’ he warned Draco. 

Draco patronised him with a dismissive look.

'It’s not an issue. I’ll be able to handle Weasley. Hermione has already briefed me on what to expect.’ 

Harry looked at him suspiciously. ‘How exactly will you do that?’ 

Draco deigned to give him another look of supreme aloofness. 

‘I shall simply rise above it. I was taught from a young age how to do that.’ 

‘You never did that with me,’ Harry said and then snapped his mouth shut, mortified at addressing their conflicted past so quickly.

Draco couldn't resist a smirk. 'You were always a special case. I never had a problem sinking to your level. You were a worthy adversary. Our rows were always very entertaining for me to be a part of. I especially enjoyed our Quidditch banters and all that extreme rowing and insults being hurled at each other through the air at high speeds. Does it ever get any better than that? It used to fire me right up.’

Draco then gave him a startling grin that looked very strange on Hermione's face.  

Harry felt his lips twitch at that illuminating admission. 

‘It’s all under control. I can keep myself together when I need to. I shall treat Ron with cool contempt if and when he starts behaving like a muppet towards Hermione. It’s what she would do.’ 

‘She was a little upset with him the first time around. I suppose, after a while, she did get rather frosty with him.’ 

Draco shrugged at that. 

‘I’m not going to be giving Ron hurt looks. I'm not going to pretend I'm bothered by his petulance. Hermione and I have discussed this. I have to put as much distance there with him as possible. It’s the only thing I can do under the circumstances. You say Ron is going to be a moron towards me because Hermione kissed her date over a year ago. You and I both know this is ludicrous behaviour. Ron is behaving worse than an infant. The disrespect he has shown to Hermione because of Krum is unacceptable. At most I think a few well-timed insults towards him might be in order. We both know that Hermione is quite partial to dishing them out on occasion. I’ll try and keep in character as much as possible, but I draw the line at doing any more than that.’ 

Harry bit his lip in consternation. ‘Ok. I just want to prepare you. At this point in the timeline, he was a bit worse than he normally gets when he has a bad mood swing. I just need you not to rise to the bait if he gets a little unpleasant towards you. Well, to Hermione.’ 

Draco gave a mirthless laugh. ‘You don’t need to explain the details. I am becoming increasingly aware of Ron’s problematic behaviour.’ 

Harry paused long enough to see annoyance flash in Draco’s eyes. 

‘Do you and Hermione talk about Ron a lot then?’ Harry asked in a forced light voice. 

Draco gave him a firm nod. ‘We did discuss him at length earlier. I needed to know these things about the people in her life. She knows about my friends too. I said what I needed to say.’ 

‘And?’ Harry asked him.

Draco lifted an eyebrow. ‘I’ve given her my objective opinions based on what she has told me about Ron’s behaviour.’ 

Harry paled.

‘No,’ he whispered in horror. 

‘Well, someone had to,’ Draco snapped back. ‘Why do you look so worried?’ 

‘Don’t you be putting ideas into her head. I know you don’t like him, but don’t ruin this for them just because of that.’ 

Draco gave Harry a very long look. ‘Hermione is a big girl. I’m sure she’ll see right through my devious, snakey little ways and disregard everything I tell her. After all, Ron's so perfect.’ 

Harry gave him a pointed look at the heavy sarcasm that had been directed at him. 

Draco pondered him. ‘I told her the truth. That’s all. I told her what I truly think of him based only on the facts she gave me. I haven't twisted anything. I didn’t need to. I just didn’t wrap his behaviour up in cotton wool like I suspect others have done.’ 

Harry felt incredibly uncomfortable at this. Draco had a very sharp tongue. He never held back with his opinions.

Harry gritted his teeth. ‘Look. I know Ron can be a little moody sometimes. He does change later on. It does get better. By the time we got to the Battle he was much nicer to her,’ Harry said in defence of Ron. 

Draco gave him a lingering look. ‘Moody? It's a lot more than that. Ron has a split personality with her. He’s up, then down with her all the time. He’s not steady with her. There’s a pattern there already. If we succeed in getting rid of Tom, how soon before there is another downturn in the rollercoaster? How soon before Ron manages to sniff out another imagined problem that gets twisted into something unrecognisable? You saw for yourself what he gets like when he gets jealous. I saw what happened at the Yule Ball between them. I’ve seen what actually happened on that Hunt.’

Harry felt his heart stop.

‘You saw that?'

'Yes. I saw enough of it and I didn't like what I was seeing.' 

'It was the locket that caused all that.' Harry said in a low voice. 

'The locket didn't seem to affect you two as badly as it did him. It only brought out what was already there in the first place. It was destroyed by the time he returned and yet somehow he still managed to shout at her and don't think I didn't see him glaring at her either. Hermione told me he was on his best behaviour after she backed down and you'd forgiven him. Would I be right to think that he found that remorse difficult to sustain in front of her and occasionally his mask of repentance and sorrow dropped with you? Perhaps he wasn't as sincere as he wanted her to believe he was.'  

Harry huffed out in aggravation. ‘Ron does care about Hermione so you need to be patient with him. He truly does. I know what he was like on the Hunt. He was a git to both of us but he wised up. He defended her in the great hall against Tom. He offered himself to Bellatrix to protect her.' 

Draco sighed. ’I never said he didn’t care about her. I know he cares about her in his own way, but why does it take situations like that for him to show that to her? There are times when he acts as if he doesn't even like her.’ 

Harry didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t actually have an answer.

'If she does end up with Ron, there won’t be any stability in that relationship because he isn’t stable. He consistently provokes her. He knows exactly what buttons to press to wind her up. When he reduced her to tears at the Ball did you see his face?’ 

Harry looked away from him and didn’t speak. He, unfortunately, did remember. 

Draco gave him a grim look. ‘He was satisfied. It was written all over his face. He was happy because he’d hurt her. He was happy he'd ruined her night. That he’d been able to be the one to do that to her. She's supposed to be his friend. Who does that to their friends? And why did he do that? Because Krum asked her to the Ball and she was actually having fun. He can spew as many lies as he likes about why he spoke to her like that, but the bottom line is he was jealous.'

Harry didn't quite know what to say to that so he stayed silent. 

Draco observed him. 'Instead of expecting me or Hermione to tolerate his crap for however how long Ron feels like dishing it out, why don't you tell Ron he's acting like a dick and to get over himself? Try it, Harry. You don't know, you may actually like it.' 

Harry stared at Draco with a dark look. 'It's not that simple. Ginny is his sister. I don't want to upset him if I don't have to. I have to share a dorm with him. He's on the Quidditch team. Look, I'm dealing with Ron in my own way. I'm not an idiot. I know he's being a total git this year, but there's no point rowing with him. He just goes berserk. Rule of thumb, when his ears go red, he's past reasoning with.'

Draco had a disgruntled look on Hermione's face as he ran his hair through glossy long locks and pondered him.

‘Harry. Ultimately, all you really need to know about me is I’m on Hermione’s side completely. I won’t do anything to harm her. I will do what I can to protect her and I will do whatever it takes to help you defeat Tom. That’s what I’m here for. What you do need to know is I’m not here to placate Ron’s ego. You need to be the one to talk sense into him. He might get mad. He might get angry. He might even get depressed with you, but he needs to hear it. He can't keep behaving the way he does and expect to get away with it. He won't listen to Hermione so there's no point in me talking to him. He will accuse me of nagging him if I so much as suggest to him that he change his attitude.’

This was all very difficult for Harry to hear but he remembered what the Vortex had told him about trusting the Traitor. He had to trust Draco with Hermione. 

'I know, ok. I know there are issues,' Harry murmured. 'I just need for you to not get too Draco with him. Ron has confidence issues. He can be-' 

'Insecure. Yeah,' Draco murmured. 'A fact he makes sure to remind you of regularly, in case you forget and don't go so easy on him, right?' 

Harry narrowed his eyes. 'What are you implying?' 

'It's interesting how someone who suffers from such a lack of confidence and such debilitating insecurities can string two witches along at the same time, don't you think?' he said smoothly. 

Harry's emerald eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

‘I think that’s more than enough for now,' Harry said in a low tone.   

Draco thought so too. 

Harry watched what appeared to be a very well dressed Hermione sweep out the room and to breakfast as Harry was left to contemplate what Draco had said about Ron.

Draco had asked a very reasonable question. Why did it take her life being in danger for Ron to actually show her he genuinely cared? 

He'd made some pertinent points that Harry was turning over in his mind. 

Still, Draco was a serpent and they had a way of twisting things. He needed to tread carefully with him. 

Harry put it on the backburner for now. With his head a lot clearer he was starting to see the bigger picture of all that had been happening in his world. 

Things needed to change. Harry knew that. Ron needed to improve his attitude to, well, everyone. But how on earth was he going to do that? Ron was the most stubborn person he knew when he got a bee in his bonnet. 

Maybe it would be better to let things take their course. It had eventually sorted itself out in the original timeline. There was nothing to be done whilst Draco was Hermione. 

Hermione had finally caved…..

Harry shook his head.

Hermione had finally relented…..

Harry tutted as he tried to find a better word to describe what had happened between Ron and Hermione at the Battle.

Hermione had finally forgiven…

Harry gave up after that rather dismal thought. It was hardly the stuff of divine romance. 

Ron was running late so he made his way down to breakfast without him. 

Hermione re-covered up the Dark Mark on Draco’s arm with a shaking hand. It had woken her up with a sharp burning sensation in the early hours. Draco had told her she was not to respond. It was a general call to Tom’s followers to meet at Malfoy Manor. With all that had been happening with Draco, she’d put the Dark Mark to the back of her mind. 

She’d spent some time simply watching the tattoo. The snake and skull seemed to taunt her. She knew another Azkaban breakout was planned for the near future. 

She shook her head as she prepared for another day as Draco Malfoy. She was very disciplined with her approach. Everything she did was done methodically and with great care. 

She stared at her reflection. At Draco. It was turning into a habit. The Vortex was bringing them even closer than she had thought possible. 

She brushed his hair into the style he always wore and peered into his eyes. 

The more she was getting to know who he really was, the more drawn to him she was becoming. The aftershocks of the burning on her arm had her glance down. 

She felt her heart sink when she wondered about the man he would have been allowed to be without Tom in this world. If his parents hadn’t been brainwashed with the pureblood ideology from birth, as their parents had before them, then maybe Draco could have just been normal. 

She smirked at that thought and quickly disposed of it. Draco could never be normal. He was born to stand out in the crowd. She ran her fingers through his white-blond hair. She’d become used to it now. It was softer than it looked and rather thick. 

He was a naturally arrogant individual. A quality that had both amused her and exasperated her on many occasions over the years. He had a large repertoire in his arsenal. A quip for every occasion and so many one-liners she wondered how he remembered them all. 

He would saunter through the school with his chin held high as if he were royalty. 

He could also be a total bitch when he needed to be. Hermione could admit to herself they had that in common. 

Hermione thought of the man she was starting to get to know. He also had a very sincere side. There were plenty of times when he had been very real to her. Too honest perhaps about aspects of her life, but that had been vital in order for her to sort her thoughts out. 

She remembered their kiss vividly.

It had to be the Vortex. She never knew a kiss could feel like that. She touched her lips, Draco’s full lips, and contemplated their next kiss. 

She couldn’t help the gentle smile from appearing on her face. It was simply for research she told herself.  

She’d never really spent so much time with any man who wasn’t her dad, Ron or Harry. There was also Neville she supposed, but he was very much like her little brother. She’d liked Viktor in many ways, but there had been one glaring issue that stopped her from pursuing him further which was that he wasn’t really up to speed with communication. 

He’d been very sweet with her, but his interests in life weren’t that varied. He didn’t really have much of an opinion on those things that mattered to Hermione. He didn't have much of an opinion on most things. He had been charming to her though. 

Draco could talk all day about anything and everything with her. She supposed it helped that she saw her face when she spoke to him. In a way, there was that mental distance from their past. 

Although, his sardonic looks toward her had disappeared long before the Battle. 

She stood up straight and took one last look at her appearance. It was perfect. Her mind flitted back to the vision she’d had. She’d only had the one but it had stretched on forevermore. 

She’d been sat at a long table at Malfoy Manor with every single degenerate of the Wizarding World in close proximity, whilst Tom threw his weight around. 

Tom had spoken at great length about capturing Harry. This wasn't long before they'd rescued Harry from Privet Drive. Hermione remembered that terrible night. Mad-Eye and Hedwig had been killed and the rest of them had come far too close for comfort to joining them. 

She’d watched Lucius utterly humiliated when Tom had taken his wand from him. Narcissa had remained stoic. It was impossible to tell what she was feeling. 

Hermione knew for certain Narcissa was done with Tom by that point in the timeline. Her husband and son meant the world to her. Their pain was her pain. 

She’d seen Charity Burbage murdered and had felt Draco’s terror and his bile rise in his throat at what he was being forced to witness. He’d been utterly sickened by the depravity. She'd felt his revulsion from the moment she had entered his body in the vision. 

Hermione smoothed her blond hair over and made her way to breakfast. 

Chapter Text

Author note. 

This chapter is intended to be very tongue-in-cheek. I wrote it mainly to highlight Ron's emotional immaturity and how naive he is about the ways of the real world. I thought his over-the-top behaviour in The Half-Blood Prince at this point in the timeline bordered on farce, so I decided to emulate that by going over the top with the inner workings of his mind. 

Do take it all with a pinch of salt. 

I don't think canon Ron is this idiotic. 

Ron Weasley was mightily pissed off. He had seethed until the early morning hours about the callous treatment he had received from people who should know better than to question him. 

Ginny’s incredibly rude way of speaking to him had vexed him greatly. She had provoked him greatly with her disrespectful ways. Ron had glowered for many hours at this unacceptable treatment. Not only had she shown him up on the Quidditch Pitch, deliberately, he might add, but that smarmy slime, Dean, had the audacity to kiss his sister! How very dare he. 

Ron pulled a face of discontent at that. Dean hadn’t even asked him permission if he could date her. It was simply outrageous. Dean had zero respect for him. He hadn’t asked him permission to date his sister. It was blasphemous. 

Harry had also been most disagreeable, speaking to him about inane concepts that Ron couldn’t understand. He had barely been listening to most of it. His blood that been thundering in his ears. Ginny had left, so he'd calmed down a little. He's picked out some words. Harry had actually criticised his behaviour and told him he had been at fault. Ron had been stunned into silence at that. Was Harry having another one of his turns? He'd seemed quite calm, though. Ron didn't quite know what to think.

He could fathom that Ginny had been unreasonable and that Harry had taken her side. It was all so unfair. Ron twisted and turned in bed all night, contemplating many grievances bestowed upon him for simply defending his sister’s honour. 

His eyes pierced the darkness with anger. Ginny had dared speak to him about his lack of experience with witches. She was such an absolute cow, and the lack of respect she had shown to her elder and superior was in dire need of rectification. 

Women were lining up to be with him. He was very particular about which one he chose to be seen with. So many of them were such silly, emotional creatures. His time was precious. Between all the napping and eating and Quidditch, there wasn’t much time left to bestow upon the female of the species. 

Ron sighed. He was being selfish. He should be more generous with his time. He was that kind of guy. He was a giver. 

He had been so stunned at the time by Harry’s new attitude that he had become momentarily confused. He hadn’t quite known what to make of it and needed time to consider how to respond to this new development. Harry had never questioned him before. Ron had thought for years that Harry would always back him up in everything. Harry rarely questioned his supreme judgment on anything. 

There was that time Harry had been a little unreasonable with him in the fifth year when he had shouted at Hermione and him for rowing. Well, that was probably Hermione's fault. She had most likely instigated that one like she did all their other arguments. She was such a nag. He had to defend himself against her sharp tongue. He had always spoken to her with a firm yet kind and rational tone. He had never raised his voice to her. At all. Ever. That he could recall. Off the top of his head. It wasn't his fault if she often became hysterical with him. That was the trouble with women. They couldn't maintain a cool facade as he could. 

Ron needed to keep that ego of hers in check. She was too smart for her own good. It wasn’t feminine. He appreciated her good grades. Her assistance with his academics has been useful to him over the years. He didn’t need her bragging about it, though. It was important for her to keep humble. He decided when a compliment was deserved or not. She valued them more when they were rare. It was most unbecoming when she flaunted her skills in front of them. 

Ron pondered this. 

Hermione was a delicate case. She needed careful handling. 

Arrogance was not a desirable trait in a woman, and there had been plenty of times that Hermione had needed to be brought back down to earth before she got ideas above her station. It was for her own good. Her ego was out of control. Ron sighed. 

A lot of people had called her the brightest witch of her age. Ron shook his head with dismay. Suck ups. This was how the problems started. People gave her too many compliments. He'd had to undo a lot of damage because of them. An uncontrollable ego could cause a lot of negative issues for women. 

They became too confident and started muttering dangerous, awful words like independence. Tempestuous, sinister slogans such as, I can make it on my own. Ron had been horrified to learn that certain women chose to be single and childless even though men had shown them pity and offered to do the decent thing and marry them. 

It was unfathomable to him. Indeed, wasn’t every woman in need of a husband? Well, all except the lesbians. 

Ron cringed at what that tumultuous word did to him. The lesbian. A dark creature that roamed the lands without wanting or needing a man in her life or bed. Ron associated them with the Werewolf. They were unpredictable. Volatile. Strange.  

The muggles gave the lesbian television shows to host, and many muggles spoke of them so flippantly that it had to be seen to be believed. Ron scowled as he thought of these women. How could they live with themselves? How did they navigate life without a man by their side?

Years ago, he had heard Ginny tittering one day in the Burrow about a quote she'd found in a book. When Ron had asked her what she was laughing at, Ginny had read it out with a big grin.

'A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.' 

Ron had never been so insulted in his life. He had left her chortling away at his red face. He had felt very offended. He deliberately ignored Ginny for a week, but it didn't bother her. She had seemed pleased to receive his silent treatment, so he gave up. 

Hermione occasionally spoke about lesbians to Ginny, much to Ron's consternation. She had an aunt who was one of them. Ron knew the world could be a crazy place, but the lesbian was something that repelled him. What purpose did they serve? They served no useful function on this planet that he could see. All they did was create a shortage of eligible women for decent, honest men like himself. 

His own mother had been terrified for Ginny in her younger days. Ginny’s aggressive and boisterous nature had caused his mother many sleepless nights. There had been so many clues that perhaps Ginny may not be a man-lover when she was older. It had almost broken his poor mother’s heart when Ginny had shown a liking for playing the rather violent game of Quidditch.

When Ginny had announced without shame that her favourite Quidditch team was the all-women Holyhead Harpies, his mother had been beside herself with worry. Rumours were circulating in Diagon Alley that the Seeker and the Keeper lived together. It was quite the scandal in their world. Fortunately, with the appearance of Harry and the obvious crush the young girl had on him, his mother had once again been able to sleep through the night.

The crisis had been averted. 

Ron pondered this in his mind amongst his other surely deep thoughts. The lesbian was a mirthless creature devoid of any sense. How could any woman want to live without a strong man to guide, teach, and impart his wisdom to her? Surely any woman on the planet desperately needed a man who could show her where she had gone wrong with her life choices—a man who could show her the right way.

How could another woman offer her any sensible advice? As Ron knew, issuing advice from the comfort of the sofa as your wife washed the dishes was what a man did. It was his job to guide her. 

Ok. Perhaps his mother and father didn't have the ideal relationship that way. Sometimes it seemed like his mother didn't pay much attention to the astute wisdom of his father. Ron gave himself a nod of assurance. He would speak to his mother and hopefully rectify this problem in his parent's relationship. It was the least he could do for them. 

The lesbian. Ron’s greatest enemy. They were worse than Death Eaters. A woman with no need or want of a man. They were pointless to Ron. They were a waste of oxygen. A woman's true purpose in life was to create a happy marriage, support her husband, manage a magnificent home, make babies, look pretty and then share the marital bed for when he required sexy times. Everyone on the planet knew that. 

Ron certainly did. 

His mind flitted back to the Yule Ball. He gave himself a pat on the back for nipping that calamity in the bud. After he had correctly established his exceptional wisdom to a naive Hermione, she had rightfully exited the Ball as any self-respecting woman would have. 

Ron knew from the crushed expression on her face that she had seen the error of her ways. She had needed him to show her the light. She had turned up looking most unlike herself. She was clearly desperate for attention from anyone if she’d tarted herself up like that. It was important for him to put the brakes on that brazen behaviour. Hermione was a respectable woman. He needed to keep her that way. 

He had seen her on the dancefloor with Krum, acting like some cheap harpy. Ron sneered at the memory. He wasn’t one to dance. He had two left feet. Hermione should have been more than content to sit with him and listen to his witty repertoire and insightful opinions on the rest of the guests at the Ball like any good friend of his should do.

Her behaviour had shown him just how selfish she was. She hadn’t considered his needs in the slightest. He had been most offended that she’d barely given him a few minutes of her time the entire night. She had claimed she wanted to spend some time with her date. Ron had thought it disrespectful for her not to devote much of her time to him. He, after all, was her friend who only wanted what he thought was best for her. 

He’d been so focused on Hermione that the girl who had been his date had left him in an undignified strop. She had been one-half of the Patil twins. He couldn't remember which one was which at the best of times. Ron shook his head at that. Whichever twin it was, she was yet another witch who didn’t understand that he was the one to lead the way, and she needed to follow. She should have been happy he’d even bothered to ask her. Ron huffed at that. So many witches were problematic these days. 

Hermione was especially arduous at times. After all he’d done for her. He had shown her pity and had deigned to ask her in the first place so she wouldn’t be left on the shelf. That was too sad to contemplate, and Ron was a thoughtful guy. Ron sighed to himself. He’d considered her needs, and in response, she had thrown it back in his face by going with another man. That was Hermione all over, though. She could be incredibly self-centred. There had been times when she’d refused to do his homework for him. She’d say silly things like he needed to learn how to do things himself because she couldn’t take his exams. 

Ron tutted at the memories. She could be very unreasonable sometimes. 

There had also been her stupid cat. Ok, true. The cat had been after Pettigrew, but how was he supposed to have known that? Ron had rightfully shown her who was boss, and it wasn’t her. He had noticed that she became a little annoyed at his silent treatment and had stored that one for future reference. She really didn’t like getting the silent treatment. 

Ron understood it was a useful little weapon that could be deployed at times in order to upset her. 

Krum’s stupid little face had gotten too close to Hermione’s many times. Ron should have known then what the lecherous animal had in mind. 

Ron chastised himself for thinking so highly of Hermione in the first place. Of course, she would devalue herself with the famous seeker. She had deliberately ruined it all for him—his dream. Ron had expected a virgin bride on his wedding night. Not some cheap slut who was considered the Hogwarts bicycle. 

It would take some hard work to overcome this direct insult to himself. It was typical of Hermione to make things more difficult than they needed to be with him. He was certain he would eventually be able to mould her into the woman he needed by his side in the way he wanted her to be. 

He was a strong man who understood the right way to handle a woman. 

Eventually, Hermione would be all he truly needed in a wife. She would be quiet, compliant and supportive of him and his needs. That was what he deserved in a wife. He’d been through a lot, and it was vital that he would have someone to show him the unquestioning kindness he deserved for the rest of his life. 

His mother shared his views. When Rita Skeeter had made up that story that Hermione was cheating on Harry with Krum, Ron had been validated. If Hermione hadn't been sniffing around Krum and hugging Harry in the first place, none of that would have happened. She'd brought it all on herself with her wild ways. 

Ron frowned. Those bloody hugs they shared got on his nerves. He knew that people gossiped about them. They just wouldn't put each other down. No wonder people talked. Now he knew more about Hermione and her out-of-control libido; then he had to consider that Hermione was probably using her feminine wiles to flirt with Harry. Ron pouted with contempt. He'd need to keep an eye on them. No wizard was safe around her. 

Ladies simply shouldn't behave that way. Ron nodded sagely to himself. Indeed they should not. Hermione had embarrassed herself and, by association, him.

She needed to understand that her wanton and lewd behaviour reflected on him. Ron sighed. Such was his lot in life that he’d need to teach her these basic facts of life. Still, women were often emotional and acted without thinking. It led to repercussions that the men in their life needed to resolve. 

Still, he was a hard worker; in time, Hermione would learn to comply with his expectations. 

A witch’s first priority should always be the man in her life at all times. Ron clicked his tongue. Hermione could be distracted so easily by her books and her education. That was yet another hurdle in his future that needed to be overcome. Wizards and books. Those were her obsessions. 

This was proving a dilemma for him, though. In time her brain would ensure that she could acquire a well-paid job at the Ministry. That would mean more money for them both. He didn’t want her getting ideas above her station, however. He wanted children, and the mother needed to care for them most of the time. Men had important things to do with their spare time. Socialising was especially vital to a man's well-being.  

Ron would occasionally be the strong male presence in his children's lives. He would mould them, lecture them on the correct ideals and dispense his wisdom to his offspring. He would organise their playtime schedule at a time to suit him. This would probably be worked around the Leaky Cauldron's opening and closing hours.

As the man of the house, it was important that he would teach them what life’s expectations were for them. 

A son should know he needs to be strong and forceful. A daughter should learn to be demure and helpful. 

Ginny had caused much consternation in the House of Weasley with her boyish tendencies. No matter how much Ron tried to show her the correct path in life, Ginny seemed reluctant to hear his well-meaning advice. There had been many times that the wretched witch had told him to sod off and to shove his wand up his orifice. 

Ron had so many grievances against his foul-mouthed sister. He pitied the wizard she ended up with. If the Weasley brothers couldn’t force her to be polite to them, then no other man stood a chance. 

Ron could only hope that her future husband had more luck than him in controlling the chaotic youngest Weasley. Ginny would no doubt be another man’s burden to bear, Ron thought somberly. 

Ginny was a lost cause; if he wasn’t careful, Hermione could be headed the same way. 

Ron understood implicity the important role of wife and mother. She was there for the more practical matters, such as feeding and clothing the children and making sure they had their regular trips to see the nurse for check-ups—the boring stuff. 

She was the centre of the home and responsible for the more practical matters of day-to-day living, such as dull jobs like cleaning and cooking. This would take up a lot of Hermione’s time, so it was important she had a job that wasn’t too high pressured with long hours.

Ron had already decided that his mother, Molly, would be responsible for daycare for his children while Hermione was at work. He hadn't mentioned this to her yet, but he was sure she would happily take care of the little ones while he maybe did a job or something. He hadn't quite decided what to do with his time once he left Hogwarts. 

Once home from work, Hermione would have the prestigious duty of keeping the family home in good order. 

The husband’s role was to praise his wife if she did the job well and then berate her if she failed to live up to her husband's expectations. Only that way would she learn to be better at her responsibilities.

Ron thought reverently of his future dream. He imagined Hermione coming in from work after picking the children up as Ron returned from a full day of making small talk down at the Leaky Cauldron with Harry and several beers. She would prepare a sumptuous meal for the family while looking after the children and dusting the living room. Ron would watch this delightful performance with a generous smile at the woman he had created.

Hermione was great at multitasking. 

He, in turn, would entertain his family with his amusing anecdotes as they all stared up at him with love and tenderness on their smiling faces as he watched them all roar with laughter at the punchlines. 

'You're so wonderful, Daddy,' the children would say as Hermione would have a beaming smile as she showered him with light kisses and giggles. 

'You're the most amazing husband and father in the world, Ron,' Hermione would purr in his ear. 

'Three cheers for Daddy Weasley!' the children would shout excitedly as they all basked in the wonder that was Ron. 

Once the children were taken care of and put to bed by Hermione, and the time came for Ron to show his love for his wife, she would then suddenly have the energy of a lioness as she succumbed to his virile and amazing lovemaking abilities as she told him just what a wonderful man he was and how lucky she was to be with him.   

Ron sighed with the contemplation of the pressing weight of his future responsibilities. For that dream to be attainable, he had to do the groundwork. Hermione was a balancing act. She always made things much more difficult than they needed to be. Even now, she was galavanting around the castle all gussied up with that ridiculous haircut and poncy clothing. Perhaps she was trying to catch his attention. Maybe she was playing hard to get. 

Ron gave a rueful grin. Obviously, she was looking for more attention. She already had plenty from him. Why did she need any more? Just the other week, he had asked to copy her Potions homework, and he had deigned to smile at her. He'd passed her the salt at lunchtime. She was just so needy. Hermione always wanted more. 

She certainly had those boy-mad tendencies if Krum was anything to go by. She had kissed Krum. Ron knew he needed to step in and soon. This debauched behaviour was reaching the point of no return. 

Hermione needed to see what was at stake if she continued down this dark path. She would lose him if she continued to whore herself out to any wizard who just so much as glanced in her direction. It would be a regret that she would have to live with all her life, and Ron did care about her. He didn’t want her to live her life like that. 

Still, women were irrational. Ron was a worldly man. Women were so easily upset. They weren't as stable and rational as men. They needed careful handling by a man to keep them on the right path. So many women slipped and fell without the wisdom and guidance that good men like himself could provide them. 

Ron shook his head with consternation. He'd noticed her new wardrobe. It was clearly a cry for help. She was obviously desperate for scrutiny from any wizard; She needed reigning in. 

The good point was that she had finally had the sense to ask him to the Christmas party. He’d had to push her a little with a bit of a guilt trip that he was annoyed with the Slug Club. He didn’t enjoy demeaning himself like that. Fortunately, she had read between the lines and had asked him. Ron hadn’t been happy with her that he’d had to broadcast his displeasure to gain an invite, but still, she’d had the sense to finally succumb to what was best for her—their first date. 

Still, she hadn't been as focused on him as he would have liked recently. It was a little perturbing for him to witness. 

It was baby steps with Hermione. Ron understood that one couldn't purchase a good wife. If only he could. His eyes glazed over as he pictured a lovely store that sold a compliant wife for a handful of galleons. It would certainly make his life a lot easier. Unfortunately, one couldn't buy a ready-to-go good wife from Diagon Alley. Instead, a wizard was expected to put in a lot of work in order to make a witch nice, responsive and easy to live with. 

He was still angry that she had kissed another man without asking if he had approved. She obviously had self-esteem issues if she was willing to sink to those levels for some false sense of self-worth. 

He pictured them together as he grumbled with disdain at her harlot ways. 

He sighed. It wasn’t fair. Her whole focus should always be on him. Still, he was getting there with her. A few little nudges and pushes to ensure her focus should always be directed at him was long overdue. He wasn’t going to play second fiddle to some dusty old books or the countless men she would no doubt throw herself at to attain a mere crumb of attention. 

This dire situation needed to be remedied. 

Hermione needed to know what was at stake. She was well on her way to losing him if she carried on behaving like an imbecile. Her life needed to revolve around him if she was to be happy. Hermione was very much high maintenance, with all her opinions and rebellious urges to question his wise advice. There had been many times when she had visibly scoffed at him. He had certainly heard her tell him he was talking rubbish countless times. 

Ron ran his hand through messy red hair. Yes. There was certainly a long way to go with her. Until they reached a point where she would agree that he was always right, he would have to consider her a work in progress. It could take years, but Ron was no shirker. He was prepared to do this if there was hope she would finally agree that she was wrong and he was right in any given situation. 

Her rudeness certainly needed to be the first thing to go. She’d never find another man willing to put up with that nightmare existence that he, Ron Weasley, was. 

Ron was doing this to protect her from future heartache. Hermione was like any other woman. She lived with her head in the clouds, always looking for that elusive Prince Charming but she’d never find any decent man if her completely appalling attitudes and corrupt values began to escalate as rapidly as he suspected they were. 

Ron needed to step in to save her from a life of squalor and ruin. 

A woman needed a firm hand and ground rules. This was essential to a happy marriage. 

Women should know their limits.

She must always be accommodating to her wizard at all times. She lived for her man and then the children he blessed upon her. Ron knew this for certain. 

His mind flipped to another major problem that had reared its ugly head. Ron had expected Harry to keep quiet and allow him to handle this situation with Ginny effectively and with his concise, demanding, yet fair leadership. 

Ron pursed his lips in anger. Maybe it was that connection to Tom that had affected his thinking. Perhaps. He hadn’t known how to respond to Harry dishing out his unasked-for advice. He'd considered punching him, but he wasn't quite sure whether Harry was in the zone. 

Ron clutched at his blanket with anxiety. He hoped it was just a phase. He didn’t like assertive Harry. He remembered in the fourth year how unpleasant it had been returning to his side after the first task. Harry had had the audacity to be a little off with him simply because Ron had ignored him for weeks. 

Ron had been right to question the word of Harry. The boy who had never once lied to him, had saved his sister’s life and had always stood by him was not a boy to be trusted. 

Anyway, Ron hadn’t made a mistake. He had merely asked Harry if he had cheated to get into the tournament, and Harry had become rather annoyed with him because of an innocent question.

Harry was such a drama queen at times. 

He'd certainly felt no need to apologise. It was a man's right to question others. If anything, Harry should have apologised to him for reacting negatively to Ron’s simple enquiry. He’d made him feel really, rather uncomfortable at times. 

Ron sighed. Merlin, his load in life was heavy. So many people in his life needed his time and attention. Improvements needed to be made to all and sundry, and it looked like it would fall on his broad shoulders to show them the way. He smiled benevolently. He was a tough, strong, yet fair man. He would mould them to be better people. 

His mind flitted back to the Hermione problem because there was certainly a problem there. Something was going on with her that he found most unappealing. She had refused to indulge him in any of his teaching sessions recently. It had been a slap in the face that she continued to wear her hair in a way he disapproved of. He had told her to change it back, and she had most defiantly ignored him.

This was unacceptable behaviour. 

Ron needed to continue to train her to be obedient to his superior knowledge. He would know he had succeeded when she no longer questioned his wisdom or challenged his sensible beliefs. 

Ron grimaced. As for that Elf obsession she had... He rolled his eyes. Of all the things to get worked up about in their world, why that? It made no sense to him. That would need to be phased out too. He couldn't stand it when she got on her soapbox about them. 

Hermione had been most dismissive of him recently. Ron thought back. They had planned to go on that date. He nodded slowly to himself. She was playing her little games with him. Treat them mean. Ron shook his head. How immature of her. Well, if that was the way she wanted to play it, then he had a few games he would start playing with her. 

She was no doubt reading one of those insane muggle books about feminists. This was the trouble with dating women that read a lot. Sooner or later, they always stumbled across one of these devil books. He’d seen one poking out of her bag last year. He had given it a woeful look. Feminists were always bleating on about radical ideas such as getting paid the same for doing the same job as a man and that both the mother and father should have an equal role in the home and raising the children. 

Ron shook his head at their stupidity. Why should women earn the same as a man for doing the same job? Women didn’t need to spend so much as men. Everyone knew that. Men had Quidditch game tickets to buy and beer to purchase. Women had trifling little things like babies to pay for. They were only tiny. Why should women need any more than the bare minimum to keep a roof over their heads and food in the little one's bellies? Babies didn't cost much. They slept most of the time. Ron shrugged. Women were known to be reckless spenders anyway. 

If they earnt anymore, they'd just waste it on buying solid gold baby cribs, diamond dummies, or some such nonsense. 

Once Hermione started to earn some money, Ron would take over the family accounts and decide the most sensible way to distribute the wealth. Hermione would no doubt bleat on about dull things like savings and investments. Ron shook his head. The poor little thing didn’t have the first clue about how to raise a family and keep a home going. She certainly wouldn’t understand the fundamentals of currency. 

Without his sage advice, she’d most certainly bankrupt the family. 

Ron had glanced through one of these feminist books of Hermione’s last year and had been horrified by the madness written in those pages. 

One crazy bitch had suggested that if both the mother and father worked the same hours, then perhaps it would be fairer if they both shared the household chores. 

Ron had shaken his head at this absurdity. 

Women liked to do all the household chores. It was more of a hobby to them. It gave them a sense of fun. Why would anyone deprive a woman of these simple pleasures?

He had been even more disbelieving when he had noticed that some men had also been brainwashed into believing this was a sensible solution. 

It was like reading about some religious cult. 

‘Traitors,’ Ron had seethed as he had read their outrageous opinions. 

These men actually enjoyed spending a lot of time with their children and helping out around the house. They said it had given their lives a great deal of meaning raising and teaching their young, and their wives were most appreciative of their help, and the quality of their marriages had improved. 

Ron scoffed at this obvious propaganda. 

Merlin. All those weirdos had it coming with their fanciful notions about equity and fairness.

The man was in charge, and that is how sanity prevailed in their world. 

He had quickly incinerated the book for Hermione’s own good, but much to his dismay, more had cropped up in its place. 

There were hard and fast rules in life. Mother contributed to the household finances by working, then she raised the children and kept the home nice and clean and put dinner on the table and then performed her matrimonial duties for her husband as any man would reasonably expect.

Ron inherently understood that this was the correct way of doing things. 

The husband was a wise, mature and solemn presence in his wife’s life. He was almost like a babysitter of sorts. He was there to correct his wife's mistakes with a compassionate and benevolent hand. 

Women, after all, were slaves to their volatile emotions and couldn't be trusted to control themselves. They required constant supervision. When a man yelled and lost his temper, he was being assertive. Ron had helpfully demonstrated to Ginny earlier what being a man meant. When faced with a problem, a man shouted to get his point across, and hopefully, the problem was resolved. If that approach didn’t work, you simply resorted to violence. It was really very simple. Why did women have to complicate everything?

They seemed to focus so much on communication and something called compromise. Ron didn’t quite understand what that meant. 

All men knew that when a woman lost her temper, it was a sign that she should perhaps be sent to an asylum for necessary treatment and medication, as she had clearly lost her grip on reality. 

'Women,’ Ron thought wryly. 

Hermione needed to understand if she carried on with this preposterous farce of pretending she'd gone off him, then she was in great danger of losing the greatest thing in her life. Him. 

Ron pondered her. Hermione hadn’t grasped the gravity of the situation. She needed to know what a life without him would involve. He had been too kind to her, he supposed. He could accept that maybe he had been far too lenient with her behaviour. 

Still, she was young and emotionally erratic. Ron sighed to himself. He had seen her lose her temper with him on many occasions. She couldn’t control herself. All the times he had shouted back at her and waved his arms around had been an utter waste of his time. She had learnt nothing about his natural leadership. 

He knew what he had to do. It was time that Hermione saw what life without Ron Weasley would look like. It pained him greatly to do this, but he had already decided that she was his first choice to be his wife and the mother of his children. It was truly a wonderful gift he had bestowed on her. 

He thought of Lavender. He nodded to himself. He suspected she was one of many witches who wanted to be the future, Mrs Ron Weasley. She was certainly keen on him, and why wouldn't she be? He was very loveable. He chuckled softly to himself. There was only so much of Ron to go around, ladies. Hermione needed to see the happiness he could bring to a witch's face. 

Hermione needed to see all she would miss out on if she kept up this ridiculous charade of pretending she wasn’t completely smitten with him. She had asked him on a date. Now he had found out about Krum; it was obvious he needed to turn up the heat. 

It was time.

He needed to be cruel to be kind. 

This was for Hermione’s own good. 

Her insatiable appetite needed to be curbed for the benefit of her reputation. 

She would see that a life without Ron lacked all meaning. 

She needed to raise her head from those books she read and look around her.

Ron nodded firmly to himself with the decision made.

This ship was sailing if she didn’t improve her outlook towards him. 

He then slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

Ron awoke in the morning and stretched. He took his time to get ready. He wasn’t particularly ready to see Harry just yet. His impudence in how he’d spoken to him didn’t sit well with him. Since when did Harry reason with him? It wasn’t a good sign. If he tried that again, Ron would tell him just where to stick it. 

He knew Harry was under a great deal of strain, so, being a good friend, he’d probably forgive him in time for speaking out against him. He’d be a little off with him, though. Harry needed to learn that Ron's way of dealing with problems, especially concerning the women in his life, was not to be questioned. 

Ginny had been out of order. He would certainly speak to his mother about her bad attitude towards him. She’d lifted her wand up to him. The disrespect towards him had been nauseating. He’d taught her a lesson in return. That hex had almost got her. That should be the last time she ever dreamed about doing that to him. Harry had been angry at him for that. Perhaps Harry had a little crush on her.

Ron pursed his lips in contemplation.  

Harry wouldn’t dare do anything without speaking to him first. Ron nodded to himself. Harry knew Ginny was out of bounds. Harry was at least better than Dean in that way. Dean was very much in his bad books. 

A comb was pulled through his hair exactly three times. He dressed slowly and prepared himself. His stomach had been without food for a whole sleep and was now growling. It was time for breakfast. He wondered how many sausages he should treat himself to. 

Hermione would, of course, feel his wrath and displeasure. She must know he found her slutty behaviour unacceptable. The silent treatment would be wielded. He knew for certain that it aggravated her immensely. She’d brought this on herself. He’d turn up the heat with Lavender.

That should twist the knife.

It wouldn't be long before Hermione's focus was back on him properly.

A public showing would be the best method to broadcast to Hermione just what she was risking with her immoral ways. 

His future wife must be the embodiment of virtuous behaviour. Of course, men should always be allowed to sow their wild oats where they pleased. They certainly never married those women who gave away the farm on the first date, even if it was to world-famous seekers. 

The Christmas party was now off the table if Hermione didn't come back to him with an apology for her behaviour. She had to know the consequences for her trampy night on the tiles. 

Ron stared at his freckled face in the mirror. Merlin. He was a handsome, good guy. He certainly deserved better than a wanton woman. Still, he was stubborn. He knew there was hope for them. He must insist that Hermione change her streetwalking ways, though. She was treading on very thin ice with him. One more slip, and it was game over. 

As long as Hermione came to her senses, they could move on the way Ron expected them to. Once they were married, he needed to make sure he reminded her of her fall from grace repeatedly. As long as she felt appropriately shamed for her cheap, hustler ways, they could avoid a repeat performance.

Ron shook his head with worry at this deal he was making. 

He was taking a gamble to be sure with Hermione. As his mother said, once a slut, always a slut. But he cared about her, and he was prepared to face this burden like the real man he was. 

With a deep breath and his mind made up, he headed down to his seven-course breakfast.

It was a long time till lunch, and he needed to fuel up. 

Chapter Text

‘So, Draco. How are you?’ Pansy asked politely as Hermione gave her a small smile. 

‘Fine. You?’ she asked as she focused on stifling the irritation of her presence. 

‘Oh, you know. Just going about my day. Living my life,’ Pansy murmured. 

Hermione focused on her cup of coffee and toast and nodded politely to her nemesis. 

Pansy seemed to be sitting a bit closer than was comfortable. She watched as Pansy placed her hand on top of hers as she felt her throat get a little dry. 

‘Draco,’ Pansy began in a lower, huskier voice. 

Hermione focused on not ripping her hand away. 

‘Yes?’ she hissed out. 

‘I’d like you and me to spend a little time together. You know. I’d like us to talk like we used to.'

Blaise was pretending not to notice this. 

‘I, er. I’m really very busy, Pans.'

Pansy gave her a mock pout.

‘Too busy for one of your oldest friends?’ she enquired in a hurt voice. 

Hermione grimaced. Draco had asked her to be nice. Pansy was obviously on the prowl for information. She peered down at the hand still resting on her own. 

‘No. Not for you,’ Hermione said in a stilted tone. ‘Er, when?’ 

Pansy began to run her nails over her hand as Hermione felt her nerves tense. 

‘How about you and I go for a nice long walk around the black lake tonight? We can catch up properly.' 

Hermione breathed deeply. Draco had suspected the inevitable interrogation would be imminent. Hermione needed to face this. If it all went tits up then a memory charm would have to be used. 

Hermione gave Pansy a forced smile. ‘That sounds good. I’ll meet you here. Does six o’clock work for you?’ 

‘That sounds just perfect,’ Pansy retorted with a broad grin. 

Hermione felt her insides turn to mush at this confirmation of their future date. 

‘So, you and Granger?’ Pansy smirked. ‘How are you coping with that incredibly demanding issue?’ 

‘Oh, you know,’ Hermione said through gritted teeth. ‘Sheer willpower is getting me through it.’ 

Pansy appraised her. 

‘You've not hexed her yet,' Pansy asked in a bland tone. 

 'The project isn't over yet.' 

Pansy pondered her. ‘How much longer will you have to endure such a brutal, unreasonable punishment?’ 

‘I’m not sure. Maybe a few months. Hopefully, this project should be finished by Christmas.' 

‘You’re so brave,’ Pansy said with a definite tone of awe. ‘Granger is quite possibly the worst thing to ever happen to Hogwarts.’ 

‘Yes,’ Hermione muttered. ‘She’s atrocious.’ 

Pansy gave her a curious look and then patted her hand again. 

‘I do admire your stamina, Draco.’ 

Hermione gave her a polite nod as her eyes caught Ron stalking in. Something seemed to be up with him. He was grimacing with his eyes narrowed. Hermione knew that look very well. She glanced across to Ginny who was looking at Ron with malevolence.

Ginny whispered something into Dean’s ear as Hermione watched them both then stand up and leave. 

Ron glowered at them both before hauling his long body around the seat as, with an almighty grunt, he slammed his ass down and grabbed a plate. 

Hermione watched him sneer at her alter. Draco paid him no attention whatsoever. Ron gave a huff and then started to load his plate up. 

Hermione sighed. She knew what this was all about. Somehow Ron had found out about Krum. Again. Ginny hadn’t immediately made the connection at first in the original timeline. She had put two and two together after Ron started his relationship with Lavender and all the weirdness had started and she had subtly mentioned it to her.  

Hermione hadn’t wanted to believe the reason at first for his alarming behaviour. For weeks he’d been surly at her with no explanation. She was a little bit older now. She’d been through a lot since coming back to this strange part of her life. She now had a bit of distance from the situation.

She sat silently as she watched Ron sneer at her other-self. She felt a chill run down her back at the visible animosity he was displaying towards her.  

When Ginny had mentioned what she’d let slip, after the event, Hermione had assumed he had been jealous the first time around. She’d had thought that it had been a good sign that her feelings for him were returned. It was passionate, wasn’t it? That Ron could feel emotions for her that strong was a good sign. Wasn’t it? 

She watched him now from the safety of the table of serpents and really took a long look at what was happening here. 

The first time around she had been oblivious to the reasons for his change of character towards her. He’d suddenly turned on her for no reason. They’d been getting along well. Overnight he was like a stranger to her. She’d been hurt and bewildered. There had been no explanation. It had been unnerving. 

That’s what he had wanted her to feel. Unnerved. Uncertain. He’d wanted to hold this power over her.

Learned behaviour. She speculated as she watched him give Draco a look of derision.

You've displeased me and I shall make you pay dearly.

That seemed to be the overwhelming message being broadcast. If he had spoken to her about the reason for his behaviour she would have held her own. It was an absurd thing to be angry about and she would have rightfully been very cross with him if she had known the truth. 

Is that why he had withheld the cause of his treatment for all those weeks of confusion?

He must have known it was insane, but he finally had something that, in his mind, he could whip her with.

Maybe if she had known at the time why he was so angry then perhaps she might have been able to have a proper talk with him. He’d not given her a chance though. 

Ron was more cunning than she thought.

As she continued to watch Ron from a different perspective, with her future knowledge, she had to admit that Draco's words were sounding more and more valid to her. 

Draco was still paying him no attention.

Ron stabbed several sausages onto his plate and started his morning ritual. He was chomping so loudly that even Hermione could hear him. 

‘What’s got Weasley's wand in a knot?’ Pansy murmured. 

Hermione shrugged. 

‘Must be trouble in paradise,’ Pansy said with a light laugh. ‘He doesn’t look very happy with Granger. I wonder what she’s done wrong?’ 

‘Maybe she hasn’t done anything wrong. Maybe Weasley’s just being a prick.’ 

‘Do you think she’s turned him down?’ Pansy continued after Hermione didn’t say anything else. 

‘What?’ Hermione snapped. 

‘Well, he looks fit to burst.’ 

‘The less I know about his love life the better.’ 

‘True. Ugh. Could you imagine dating him? He’d be pausing between kisses to ram another sausage down his gob,’ Pansy added with a smirk.  

Blaise pulled a face. 

‘I’m sure he isn’t that bad,’ Hermione said with the lingering feeling of loyalty to one of her oldest friends. 

Pansy looked at her with a shocked expression before Hermione gave her a wry look. 

‘Oh, Draco. You made a sarcastic comment. How nice. You've still got it,’ Pansy said with a grin. 

Hermione smiled and then excused herself. She had the beginnings of a headache.

She scanned the hall before leaving and caught sight of Ron giving Draco another glare before knocking back his juice. 

Draco was still pretending to ignore him. Harry was also pretending to not notice what was happening. 

Lavender and Parvati had clearly noticed something untoward was happening and were now whispering to each other. Neville looked uncomfortable. Seamus was looking at Ron with a disgruntled face. Dean must have told him about the Ginny and Ron row. 

Hermione took a last look at Ron and then disappeared into the corridor. This wasn’t jealousy she was seeing. Now she knew what the problem was, and could see for herself how he was acting, she had to admit to herself this was starting to look very much like contempt towards her. 

Hermione took the long walk to her first class in deep thought. Perspective. She had remembered Ron being moody. He hadn’t spoken to her for weeks and hadn’t given her one reason for his terrible attitude.

Her brow furrowed as she really began to consider just what was going through his mind. 

Had he thought she was saving herself for him? He’d shown no interest in her at the time. She remembered the dismissive way he’d asked her to the ball. 

Saving herself. Hermione fixated on that line.

All she and Krum had done was share a kiss. Viktor hadn’t pushed for more. He’d wanted them to stay in contact. He was thinking of the future. He’d been genuinely interested in her as a person. 

In Ron’s head did he now consider her second-hand goods? 

She blanched.

He’d always had a thing about second-hand things. Is that how he viewed her? Was he that immature? Surely not. No man could possibly be that stupid. Ron couldn't possibly be that ridiculous to think like that. Could he? 

Her mind drifted to Ginny and the derogatory way Ron had attempted to shame her for kissing Dean. 

Hermione walked along in a daze as her mind began to piece together incidents from her past.

Did Ron actually believe she was some sort of tarnished woman because of one kiss? He couldn’t be that much of a pig. Could he? She remembered how he had been all over Lavender in front of her. 

Harry had been jealous of Dean, but that was for reasons Hermione could at least understand. Harry wanted to date her. He hadn’t been nasty to Ginny though. He hadn’t thought any less of her because of Dean. 

Hermione bit her lip in consternation. Perspective was an interesting factor to add to this mix. Ron hadn’t just been jealous of Krum. Had he been annoyed because, somehow, in his immature mind, he believed Hermione was now cheaper because of it. 

She knew he had some old fashioned views of women. He’d alluded to these views plenty of times in the past. 

Did he suffer from the Madonna, whore complex?

Possibly. 

All the clues were there. 

She remembered when Harry had been concerned about Tonks. 

‘Women,’ she remembered him saying. ‘They’re easily upset.’ 

She had called him out on his hypocrisy at the time. Madam Rosmerta hadn’t laughed at one of his jokes and he’d sulked for ages over it. 

She had joked that he had the emotional range of a teaspoon, but she was just being silly and flippant with him.

She had known Ron had hidden depths.

Didn’t he? 

Now she thought about it, she’d always assumed he was joking when he made one of those sorts of comments. What if he wasn’t joking?

She and Ron had always spoken freely to each other. She wasn’t naive. She knew she had picked at him too. They’d always bickered with each other. That’s what they did. For a long time. When they were kids. She liked that they had an honest friendship. He’d call her a know it all. She’d call him a pig in return. She’d called him an insensitive wart. He’d cold-shoulder her. They both had a temper. She could be curt with him. She had been demanding. He would mock her enthusiasm for school. When it actually mattered they had always stood together. That's what had mattered to her in the end. 

She regretted her younger attitude. She had been one for the rules and had been far too hyper-focused on things that really didn’t matter. What did it really matter to her if her housemates would rather play exploding snap than focus on their studies? It was their lives. 

If they were content with mediocre grades then what did that really have to do with her? She strived for excellence, but that was her. She wasn’t them and they weren't her. It was something that had taken her a while to accept, but she had in the end. 

Her housemates had other, brilliant qualities. She remembered them all during the war and then at the Battle of Hogwarts.

Every last one of them had stepped up in Hogwarts's hour of need. 

Lavender, Parvati, Seamus, Neville and Dean had more than acquitted themselves in her eyes. They had shown immense bravery in defending what was right. She was very proud now to be their housemate. She had always been the little black sheep in Gryffindor, but it no longer ruffled her feathers. 

She had pondered the wisdom of the hat putting her in Gryffindor House many times. Ravenclaw would have been a much better fit. Still, it was what it was. The hat had put her in Gryffindor for her bravery which surpassed her brains. Her single-minded focus had caused her troubles over the years and she had gradually learnt from that. Life had changed her. 

There was a lot of grey in the world and books didn’t hold all the answers. People weren't so easy to read as parchment was. 

Draco was living proof of that. 

Ron and she had grown up together and had a high level of comfort with each other. Things had evolved. They had grown older. They had been through some frightening things with each other that had secured their friendship. She’d thought so anyway. 

Something had changed. Ron had changed and this time she was reliving what had been the turning point in their relationship.

Their bickering wasn’t banter anymore. It wasn't cute anymore. 

He’d been aggressive to everyone for weeks. He’d strutted about with condemnation on his face for anyone unfortunate enough to get in his way. 

It didn’t look like he was lacking in confidence when he screamed abuse at first years. He didn’t seem insecure when he was grumpy and surly to her. He certainly didn’t seem insecure when he tore into the Quidditch team and made one of the girls cry. 

Hermione sighed. Ginny had told her after that practice that in the original timeline Harry had finally snapped and told him if it carried on he had no choice but to drop him. 

Ron had immediately told him he was pathetic and he was going to resign which had caused Harry to play dad again. Harry had to reassure Ron that he was a good player. He just needed to focus more on his mental attitude.

Ginny had been particularly blunt with what she thought about Ron’s manipulations. She had not been impressed in the slightest with how easily Ron had spun it around and how easily Harry had fallen for it. 

For weeks Ron had been unbearable. One tiny little talking to by Harry about his horrendous attitude and Ron had turned it around immediately and had laid on the guilt trip about his lack of confidence and his insecurities. It was a tired, worn-out excuse. According to Ginny anyway. 

Harry had immediately withdrawn the warning and had bent over backwards to placate Ron.

‘You’re not pathetic and you’re not resigning.’ 

Nothing Harry said made a difference. Ron had been his usual irritable self with her. 

It had led Harry to orchestrate the placebo effect experiment with the Felix potion incident. 

Ginny had been particularly scathing that Harry had bought into the woe is me act.

Hermione allowed herself a small scoff. The longer she was in his body the more she could see Draco had been right.

At this point in the timeline, Harry’s life had hung in the balance. Hers had to. All the muggleborns had been at high risk even at this early point in war.

Ron had only been thinking about his keeper abilities, aggravating her and intimidating and upsetting their classmates. 

What really did go through his mind? Had Hermione misunderstood him for years?

Ron hadn’t seemed like Ron for ages. Then he had changed back into nice Ron.

He’d been much more like his old self. Until he hadn’t. 

Which one was the real Ron anymore? 

He had never said sorry for his behaviour during this period. 

As for the way things stood now, she’d made a sort of peace with her situation with Ron due to her current circumstances. 

She considered the look on Ron’s face she’d just witnessed. He was so mad at her. Why? Nothing she had ever done in her life justified that level of malice. Although, perhaps maybe Rita Skeeter would be rationalised in being able to look at her like that. 

She glanced at her watch as she hurried her steps. Her arm had returned to normal now. It brought her back to what she really needed to focus on.

She had far more important things to worry about than Ron’s ego. 

It struck her that if Ron reacted this psychotically over a kiss, that if and when Draco and she ever did change back, and the truth came out, there was absolutely no way in the world that Ron would ever get over it.

She and Draco were living in each other's bodies.

The connotations were obvious. 

She gave a bark of bitter laughter. All she and Krum had done was share a sweet kiss and she’d got the silent treatment and glares for weeks because of it. Harry and she had shared a few cuddles and he had gone ballistic.

Draco was literally inside of her.

He’d seen everything there was to see. Hermione felt her heart quicken at that as her neck grew hot under her collar. Draco had already touched her in places that Ron hadn’t. Hermione felt her pulse rate thud deeper as she thought of him in her bed. Of how his hands would slowly move down between her thighs..... 

She pulled herself together and refocused. 

Ron’s immaturity would mean he would never let that go. She would be forever tainted by Malfoy scum.

A fact he would be sure to remind her of constantly. 

Hermione would be forever sullied in his eyes.

She shook her head with derision as she considered just what level his manic response would be at and imagined the inevitable meltdown. Draco and she could help Harry save the world from a Dark Lord, but even that wouldn’t be enough for Ron to see sense. 

It would make his tantrum on the Horcrux Hunt seem like a slight disagreement. 

Till the day he died there would be a constant reference to it. 

Hermione shook her head with a resigned expression at how plausible that thought was.

Ron no longer affected her physically. She put him out of her mind and carried on with her day. 

It was getting a lot easier to do that. 

Draco had sat there observing Ron out of the corner of his eye with increasing incredulity. It had taken all his breeding and social graces not to throw his breakfast over him. Harry had kept peering at him anxiously. 

‘Just breathe,’ Harry had whispered. 

Draco focused on his own breakfast and tried to ignore the narrowed eyes and scrunched up face of the redhead. 

‘What does she see in him?’ Draco asked in a low voice to Harry. 

As Harry dared peer at Ron who was currently chomping down viciously on some scrambled egg with clenched fists, his mind went suddenly empty. 

‘He does care about her,’ Harry mumbled. 

‘Yeah,’ Draco said coldly. ‘I can really feel his affection for her.’ 

‘He does care,’ Harry murmured. ‘He’s just going through a bad time right now.’ 

Harry glanced across the table and tried to picture Ron's better moments.

It wasn’t the best time for a mouthful of Ron's scrambled egg to dribble down his chin and neck. Ron had never looked so vile. 

Harry bit his lip. Knowing it was actually Draco at the table and not one of the regulars was making him see Ron from an outsider's perspective.

He was so used to Ron and his ways by now he hadn’t really noticed the slow and steady decline in his obnoxious behaviour.  

‘I know. It must be brutal for him. The girl he likes once kissed someone that wasn’t him before she knew he was interested in her. It must be so tough for him. We’ll hold a fucking vigil for his pain,’ Draco hissed.   

Harry winced at the snide tone. It may have been Hermione’s voice but it was certainly Draco speaking. She could talk scathingly of course. Draco had an undercurrent of actual mean that Harry could physically feel. 

Ron slammed down his goblet and sneered at Draco from across the table. 

Draco’s body was tense. Agitated. Hermione’s muscle memory had kicked in. Was this what she felt around Weasley? Had she mistaken these feelings of annoyance for passion? Draco rolled his eyes. Even Harry had never wound him up like this and he had been responsible for landing his father in Azkaban. 

Harry watched Draco’s fist tighten. He felt his own adrenalin start to rush. Was Draco going to snap? 

Draco seemed to take a deep breath as Harry watched him simply pick up his bag, say goodbye and leave abruptly. 

Harry pretended to be very interested in his cup of tea as Ron's loud chomping continued.

He glanced up and saw Ron watching Hermione leave them with that same look of satisfaction he’d had at the Yule Ball when she’d stormed off.  

Harry felt his heart sinking. He’d forgotten just how bad this had been the first time around. Now he knew the truth and was free of Tom in his head, he was seeing his world fresh. He knew that all he used to have on his mind had been blocking out a lot of his immediate surroundings. 

He’d become so used to the bickering between them. What with Tom haunting him, Cedric and Sirius dying, and all the other things that had been happening, his focus hadn’t really been on the teenage drama going on around him in the sixth year. Compared to Death Eaters and his imminent showdown with Tom, Hermione and Ron’s ongoing drama had barely registered to him. It had seemed so lightweight compared to the other things happening. They had been white noise in his life by the time Sirius had died. He’d been drawn to Ginny. He supposed in hindsight she represented hope and the future to him.

He remembered the bird attack vividly. That was clear in his mind. Ron’s obnoxious behaviour leading up to it had somehow blended into the background. It hadn't been so obvious. He had been so belligerent to all of them that his behaviour toward Hermione had just merged with all the other stuff. Harry did remember his cold attitude toward Hermione. He had frozen her out without telling her why. 

He had given her dirty looks. He had been very grumpy with her. He had been surly with her at times. 

Eventually, after weeks of this, she had seen him groping and snogging Lavender. She finally snapped. He’d walked around with scratches and cuts on his arms and forearms for days. Although come to think of it, why didn’t he just pop to see Madam Pomfrey? She had over a thousand spells in her arsenal to cure everything from broken bones to gashes. She would have dealt with that in a few minutes. Harry knew this because of his own frequent trips to the infirmary over the years. 

Harry peered at Ron. He had wallowed in the bird attack for days. Ron had looked very woeful whenever Hermione had appeared in the room and had made a show of pulling his sleeves up in class to remind her she had crossed the line with him. Harry had felt sorry for him. Hermione had lashed out. She had such a temper on her. She was so abusive. It was right that she was made to feel guilty for what she’d done to him.

Harry knew she shouldn't have lashed out. However, he had cut Draco to ribbons in the toilets. Draco had tried to use the Cruciatus on him. They'd pushed and pushed each other. Harry considered the excessive provocation Ron had dished out for weeks to her, and he understood why she had eventually snapped. It had been far from a one-sided encounter. 

Harry cringed as he took a closer look at what had really been happening at that time. 

Abuse could take many forms.

He knew that from personal experience from growing up at the Dursleys. 

Ron had subjected her to mental cruelty for weeks.

He had subjected her to cold, sneering indifference with no explanation to a girl who was supposed to be his good friend. 

Harry knew from experience the scars that could leave.

Every time when he was little, when his extended family ignored him or sneered at him, it had left scars. 

He had felt alone. Unloved. Hurt. He had felt guilty because they didn't love him. He had thought he was worthless and undeserving of anyone's love. He was just Harry. Irrelevant, pointless Harry that people had to put up with because they had no choice. He was the Dursley's burden. They hated him because he was bad. They hated him because he was useless. No one would ever love Harry. 

Harry shifted uncomfortably as he thought again of Ron's response to someone raising their wand at him.

Ron hadn’t thought twice about hexing Ginny. 

To his knowledge, he had never apologised to Ginny for that one either. 

Ron seemed to have double standards in that area. 

He had shamed her precisely because she was his sister and he hadn't approved of her behaviour. He had genuinely believed his order should be obeyed. He had assumed he had the right to order her on how she should live her life. 

Hermione wasn't, as yet, married to him. Was Ron simply waiting to get the ring on her finger before he started seeing her as an extension of himself? His property? Would he begin to repeat the same behaviour with her as he tried to do with Ginny?

How did Ron actually view a wife? Harry shifted awkwardly when he remembered the food issue on the Hunt. Ron had expected her to cook and had ended up criticising what she had managed to rustle up for them. Hermione had called him out at the time with his assumption that because she was the only girl that it was expected of her to do the cooking. Ron had given her the usual spiel that she was better at magic than him. 

He had no qualms about admitting his weakness at something when it meant no work. He got very angry if someone else pointed it out though. 

Harry was beginning to suspect this was simply an excuse to pass any work and responsibilities to her and absolve himself of even lifting a finger to help her. 

Hermione hadn't actually known any of those food spells though. Ron had still put the pressure on her. 

Harry scratched his head. Ron was the food obsessive. In all those years he had spent at Hogwarts, why hadn't Ron learnt them if food was so important to him? 

Did he not expect to ever cook for himself? 

Harry could cook. Muggle style at any rate. He considered it a useful skill to have. If all went to plan, in ten years he'd be settled down with Ginny. He pictured her in his mind and smiled. Maybe they'd be parents by then. Perhaps there would already be a little Harry or Ginny running around in their future. 

He certainly wouldn't want or expect Ginny to do all the grudge work. You were a team. You helped each other out. He imagined marriage to be a lot like Quidditch. Everyone played their part for the good of the team. 

How did Ron actually view marriage? The omens so far weren't good. Hermione had arranged everything on that Hunt. Without her, they wouldn't even have had the tent. There wouldn't have been any beds. Her bluebell flames had kept the tent at least somewhat warm. Even before that, when they had been at the Burrow, she was even doing his washing for him. Even after all that, it still wasn't enough for Ron.

She had done the best she could under the circumstances but all Ron had done for her was sitting there for weeks with a dissatisfied expression on his face. He had done absolutely nothing to help them. No, actually. Harry paused. He recalled that Ron cooked once and he had made such a nasty drama out of it with all his complaining, they'd not bothered asking him after that. They knew he'd got a bad arm, but he hadn't even offered them even basic encouragement and support. 

Even when he wasn't wearing the Horcrux. 

Was that really what Ron expected from marriage? Harry wondered at that. Ron surely didn't expect Hermione to do all the housework and have a career while he belittled her efforts, did he?

When he was little he'd had to do all the chores at Privet Drive whilst Dudley did nothing but play. The unfairness of it all still wound him up. 

He didn't want to think Ron was really like that, but the evidence was all around him. 

Ginny fought back against him shouting abuse at her. He'd attempted to hex her because of it. Harry had finally snapped in the tent and rowed with him. Ron had gone for his wand first. The first time he'd truly stood up to him and Ron's first instinct was to raise his wand against his best friend. Hermione had put that shield up the moment Ron had gone for his wand. She had known what Ron was going to do. 

Harry grimaced. Ginny shouldn't have to be fighting back against being humiliated by Ron. He should never have acted the way he had towards her in the first place. 

He couldn't imagine Hermione ever tolerating that from Ron, but marriage was for life in the Wizarding World. Ginny had told him that when they were dating. It was very difficult to get a divorce. Years and years of that sort of overbearing attitude would grind anyone down. Add children into that dynamic and it could, from a different angle, look like a trap. Could he really see them married? 

How soon before Hermione finally gave in and just did what Ron wanted her to without arguing with him? Ten years? Twenty? Ron was already using the silent treatment on her if he was displeased with her. Harry's extended family had always done that to him too. They had often treated him like he didn't exist.

What other methods would he use to get her to see things his way?

He could see that Hermione had fought back against Ron in her own way. Her vindictive fury with the birds had been the inevitable explosion of weeks of enduring his mental abuse of her. Harry knew from experience everyone had a breaking point and Ron had knowingly pushed her past her limits. 

Harry looked around the Great Hall in contemplation. If they couldn't stop Tom then he knew for certain every single person in this room would suffer, one way or the other. Hermione had known from the start what a world with Tom in charge would look like for her. 

They were at the start of an official blood war. Harry glanced across at the still whispering Lavender and Parvati. His mind bent a little. Ron had issued Hermione the silent treatment at the start of a blood war and had then gone straight into the arms of a pureblood witch at the first opportunity. 

It was typical of his insensitivity towards Hermione at times. His glares and sneers had made it clear it was more than just that, but it was still tactless. He doubted Ron had even stopped for one moment to consider the implications of his choice. 

Harry bristled. Ron would never have used his brain to even consider how this might have looked to Hermione. He'd just cut her off without any explanation. Harry sighed. At the start of a blood war, Ron had deserted her. A muggleborn. Perhaps once could be forgiven. Unfortunately, Harry now knew it wouldn't be the last time.

If they ever crossed that line into marriage and she took his surname, would Ron then feel she was his property?  Would he lay down the law to her? He had shown he believed that because Ginny was his sister he'd had that right. Strangely, Ron had never attempted to lay down the law with his brothers. 

Would he then feel he had the right to hex his property if Hermione stood up for herself as Ginny had done if she did something to displease him? 

Harry scowled at that dark thought. Ron would never hurt Hermione.

Harry grimaced. He'd already hurt her.

It also crossed his mind that Ron hadn't been so reticent in his haste to physically hurt Ginny and himself. His sister and his best friend. 

What would their marriage really be like? Would it be as volatile as it had been at Hogwarts and on the Hunt? What would happen if they had children?

Harry gave a subtle look to Ron who was shovelling more grub into his busy mouth as Neville pushed his own breakfast away with a face showing blatant revulsion. 

Ron stared at him. 

'What's the matter, Longbottom? Is your delicate stomach playing you up again?' Ron asked in a caustic tone to Neville. 

Neville just lifted his eyebrows at him without responding to the goading and then left the table quietly as Ron pulled a gruesome face at him. Seamus joined him after a beat. 

Harry sighed. Ron would be snapping at everyone for any reason or no reason for weeks. This was going to be unbearable to live through a second time. 

He thought of how Hermione had reacted on his return to them. Ron had pushed her to breaking point when he'd left her.

She'd clearly been out of her mind when she saw he had returned.  

When she had punched him, Ron had immediately taken the defensive stance by putting his hands over his head, despite the fact she really didn't stand a chance of being able to reach up that high. 

He was a Quidditch keeper with the build and strength that went with that. He had quaffles being thrown at him at high speeds that occasionally hit him or ones that he punched away with ease. She was half his size and she didn’t have her wand on her. He had his wand. He could have simply put a shield up in a split second. Had he been putting on a show for both of them?

He must have been expecting her to be livid with him. He would have been prepared for anger. 

Ron had backed away from her with so much exaggerated caution as if he genuinely feared for his very life. He had shown Harry and Hermione his very visible dismay of facing a wandless witch half his size. Strangely, he hadn't shown any fear in the slightest towards her earlier on the Hunt. In fact, there had been times when he'd ripped her head off with his acidic attitude towards her. He had been obnoxious and rude to her on many occasions. 

It seemed odd how he had acted so helplessly in hindsight. The night when Ron had bravely faced his shrew. 

Harry considered the hateful looks Ron had given Draco that morning. It was a refresh into his own mind about the true dynamic between both Hermione and Ron. Ron's actions right now were clearly showing someone who was in no way intimidated by Hermione. He was deliberately provoking her. He was treating her to a severe amount of icy belittlement which Harry knew for certain was going to last for weeks. 

Harry knew for a fact that Ron wasn’t averse to treating witches badly. He knew he didn't really care if he upset them or made them cry. There was a litany of them scattered over the Hogwarts history pages. He rarely showed any consideration in the slightest for them. He had hurt Lavender a great deal. He had dragged that one out for weeks. After she had finally ended it, he had seemed relieved. He'd had one moment where he looked guilty because she was crying, but that emotion had passed as quickly as it had started. 

Harry had seen Hermione at the Slytherin table watching Ron with a speculative look in her eyes. Those eyes had been almost dismissive towards Ron by the time she had left the Great Hall. She was seeing him through another lens and Harry had to admit, that view didn’t look so good.

Ron had been awful, then he had changed and had gone back to being all friendly and nice with them. By being back in this time, all the bad times had come flooding back with gusto and it was getting harder to remember the good times. 

That's what Ron did though. He behaved dreadfully for a while, then he went back to normal. It was almost as if there was a pattern. 

Ron didn’t know it yet, but just by being himself, he was quickly digging his own grave with Hermione. 

In this new timeline, the Ron and Hermione debacle looked like it was going to be over before it even started. 

For the first time in his life, Harry had to consider that perhaps this was for the best. 

The day continued with Ron behaving exactly as he had done in the original timeline. Draco was sneered at constantly. Ron would tilt his chin up in an arrogant way around who he thought was Hermione and then shake his head in condemnation at her.

Draco managed to just about ignore this, but Harry could see the taut tension in his face at keeping his mouth shut. 

Ron had stormed around the castle with a look of great grievance on his own face.

Everyone he came into contact with was treated with his cold, aggressive attitude. 

Ron acted as if he was ready to lash out at any moment. He was touchy with someone even breathing near him. 

Harry had faced a Dark Lord. He had died twice in one night. He had watched the slaughter of people he cared for at the Battle of Hogwarts. He had experienced a multitude of dark calamities and endured the ordeals of the Hunt. He had managed to do all this without once coming close to emulating this insane behaviour he was witnessing from Ron. 

Harry couldn't quite believe this deranged overreaction to one kiss that had absolutely nothing to do with him.  

Harry could only sit back in wonder as he watched all of this play itself out again. In the original timeline, he had tried to ignore this phase to the best of his abilities. Now he was paying full attention. 

It truly was an eye-opener to witness Ron's bizarre behaviour with a clear mind.

Hermione had one little kiss with someone that wasn’t him almost two years before and Ron looked ready to tear someone's head off.

This wasn’t even one isolated day. This rampage of Ron's had gone on for weeks. 

As that long day drew to a close and Harry once again watched history repeat itself as Ron stalked past some first years and then started screaming curse words at them for daring to glance in his direction, Harry had to admit the obvious to himself. 

Ron was currently being an almighty twat of the highest order. 

He watched Hermione pondering Ron from a distance as brown eyes settled on the little first years, one of whom was on the verge of tears at being shouted at as another girl attempted to comfort her.  

Hermione made brief eye contact with Harry where she lifted her eyebrows wearily at him and gave him a tiny shake of her head in the aftermath of Ron’s unreasonable behaviour.

They were both a little bit older and wiser now. 

Ron had just screamed obscenities at some children who had been minding their own business. 

Who did that? 

Harry thought randomly of his Uncle Vernon. 

He pictured Uncle Vernon’s red face when he’d raise his voice at Harry for no reason. He thought of Aunt Petunia and her frequent rages at him.

His mind thought back to all the times they’d shouted at him and screamed abuse at him when he was little and he’d had no way to defend himself. 

He had felt so vulnerable. 

His throat went dry.

Who did that?

Bullies did that. 

Hermione turned around and left an awkward Harry standing alone in the corridor. 

Harry watched Ron turn the corner as he went into deep thought. Was he clinging onto the memories of who Ron had once been so much that he had been so blind to the man he was becoming? 

Harry looked at the little girl who had watery eyes and a trembling chin, as her friend gave her a little hug to calm her.

Harry suspected Ron would always find some reason to cause trouble for others. If he couldn't find one then he'd just make one up.

He was really good at finding reasons to cause problems. 

Would Ron raise his voice to his own children when he was in one of his moods?

Perhaps Hermione might have to work late one night. Would that be reason enough for Ron to shout? Hermione was career-focused. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that. It was bound to take up a lot of her time. How soon before Ron began to complain about the long hours she worked? How soon before he complained she was too focused on her career and not him? If she spent more time in the home and cut her work hours, all she'd end up doing would be Ron's washing and then watching Ron snore on the sofa.  

It was starting to become obvious that if Ron believed it to be a good enough reason, then everyone else had to accept that reason, even if they didn't see any logic to that reason and then they would all be expected to shut up about it. 

Harry knew from experience that Ron appeared to have many more bad moods that lasted for weeks the older he had got. 

What would he be like at twenty? What would he be like at thirty? Would he ever grow up or would his dark spells become even more frequent? 

If his children displeased him in any way would they be subjected to the Vernon and Petunia child-rearing techniques too? 

Ron, in a nice mood, was so happy go lucky.

Aw, shucks. I’m Ron. I’m an easy, all-around good bloke. I’m the chilled out and relaxed friend. I’m not like that nag, Hermione. I’m the fun mate. So if you rouse my anger then you know you’re to blame. Cause I’m an all-around good bloke. Everyone knows that. 

Harry thought of the act that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always put on at 4 Privet Drive when they had visitors. They had wanted to be seen as perfectly normal in every way. Good, nice people who had taken in an orphan boy. 

Good, decent, nice folk. 

Harry thought of the way they’d behave in the house when they had guests. It had been such a contrast to what they were like when it was just them. He had always seen their real faces then. 

The mean ones that they had reserved just for him. 

'Yes, Mr Boss man. How wonderful, Mr Boss man. Make sure you and your wife visit us again soon.'

'You, Boy. Get into that cupboard. Get out of my sight.' 

'I’m one of the good guys. I’m Harry’s best mate and I fight the forces of darkness.’  

Harry sighed. Ron thought he was the hero.

The good guys didn’t shout at children, frighten them and try to make them cry.

The Uncle Vernons did that. 

With that unsettling thought, Harry made his way to dinner. 

It was six o’clock and Hermione approached Pansy with a practised, relaxed smile on her face. 

‘Pans.’ 

‘Draco,’ Pansy murmured with a warm smile. ‘Shall we?’ 

Hermione let Pansy lead the way. She’d informed Draco earlier that Pansy was digging for information. Draco had been a little anxious by this news. 

‘Avoid the memory charm if you can,’ Draco had warned. ‘In a few weeks, we’ll only be back to square one. Throw her off the scent if you can. That will be better.’ 

‘Any ideas on how I can do that?’ Hermione had asked him. 

Draco had deliberated. ‘Just try to keep going with the whole, it’s classified, argument.’

Hermione hoped it would work. 

Hermione had not been looking forward to this. 

Pansy had always brought out the worst in her. The physical effects of her presence had been greatly minimised in Draco’s body, but there was still that underlying urge to throw her into the black lake. 

The evening was rather mild. The sun was starting to set which gave the Hogwarts grounds quite a nice atmosphere as Pansy and she walked around the lake. 

They made some small talk first and discussed their classes.

Pansy was clearly building up to something. 

There had been many speculative looks that Pansy had shot at her. 

Pansy glanced back and saw they were out of view of the castle.

They were near some trees and a patch of lush grass as Pansy took what she thought was Draco’s hand and stopped them. 

‘Let’s sit here for a while. There are a few things I need to discuss with you.’ 

Hermione felt her heart plummet. It was quiet here. Too quiet. 

They could hear the familiar sounds of the Forbidden forest in the background and the lapping of the waves on the lake, but aside from that, they were all alone.

A light breeze brushed past their faces. 

Pansy pulled them both over to the grass and sat down.

She patted the floor and beckoned her to sit, which Hermione did with great reluctance. 

‘Draco,’ Pansy began as green eyes peered at her softly. 

Hermione forced herself to relax and gave her a tentative smile. 

‘There’s been a change in you,’ Pansy murmured as she moved closer. 

‘I have a lot going on,’ Hermione said quietly but didn’t embellish on that. 

Pansy nodded sagely. ‘I know you're mixed up in things you can’t discuss.’ 

Hermione nodded. Draco had told her Mr Parkinson was in the outer circle of Tom’s followers. He would have advised Pansy to not ask him any questions. Plausible deniability might need to be used in the future. 

‘But I sense there’s more going on with you.’

Pansy pushed forward a little more. 

Hermione watched with growing terror as Pansy edged closer and tried desperately to keep her face from reflecting her inner feelings. 

‘I’m alright. Thank you for your concern, but really, there’s nothing more to say.’ 

Pansy gave her a sympathetic smile.

‘You and I have been friends since we were children. I know there’s more going on with you. You can talk to me, you know. Maybe not about certain things, but I want you to know that I will always be here for you. No matter what. I care about you. Always.’ 

‘Oh, that’s very decent of you,’ Hermione said as she got caught up in the moment.

Pansy had spoken with such sincerity that Hermione had felt the actual warmth from her. 

‘I’ll always care for you too. You’ll always be in my life.’ 

This was the truth. Draco had been very clear to her about the nature of their friendship. They were the Slytherins version of Harry and Hermione. Perhaps Pansy wanted more, which is where it differed, but the foundations were similar. 

Pansy gave her a meaningful look. ‘Can you tell me why you no longer sleep in the dorm with the others?’ 

‘I, er. I just had enough of their personal habits.’ 

Pansy touched her knee and kept her hand there.

‘Draco. Please, be honest with me.’ 

‘Well, I needed some privacy as well.’ 

Pansy nodded knowingly. 

There was a quiet as Hermione tried hard not to look at that well-placed hand that squeezed her knee. She felt a pleasurable thrill ease up her thigh as she gulped.  Draco’s body enjoyed that a little too much. 

‘I see,’ Pansy murmured. ‘What do you need privacy for? Are you seeing someone who may not perhaps be regarded as a suitable companion?’ 

‘What? No,’ Hermione spluttered. Pansy couldn't know about Draco. Or herself. Fuck. Either suspicion meant bad news.

Pansy nodded at her in an encouraging manner and gestured to her to continue. 

‘I mean, there’s no one I’m seeing. I need to be by myself right now. I have a lot I need to focus on. I simply don’t have the time.’ 

Pansy’s fingers began to knead into her thigh very gently. 

‘Daphne did tell me in private that you haven't sought her out in the longest time.’ 

Hermione couldn’t breathe at that. 

Pansy seemed to change tactics as her hand moved up to her hair and Hermione felt her nails run through blond locks. 

Draco’s body also responded happily to that as Hermione bit her lip. Luckily she was wearing his Slytherin robes. 

‘Dumbledore seems to have taken a personal interest in you,’ Pansy said in too light a voice. 

‘He seems determined to make me see the error of my ways,’ Hermione said in a vague voice as she tried very hard not to focus on what was happening to her groin. 

Sharp nails ran down her cheek softly. 

‘You’re always so well turned out. You always smell divine,’ Pansy murmured as her hand took her’s again.

Hermione watched in a detached way as those fingers glided over the Slytherin signet ring. 

‘Does Dumbledore give you any other sort of advice? Do you ever seek his advice about certain things?’ Pansy asked in a slow, gentle tone. 

‘I, er, no. I rarely see him. It’s Granger who I see most.’ 

‘Ah, yes,’ Pansy said lightly. 'Granger. She's rather close to Dumbledore. Have you found that by working on this project with her, that perhaps you have been able to confide in someone who you believe wouldn't be judgemental of well, perhaps something very personal to you?'

Hermione looked at her blankly. 

'Draco. Sometimes, in desperation, a person can reach out to the most unlikely of people,' Pansy said in a very soft tone. 

‘I really don't know what you're insinuating,’ Hermione told her curiously.

Pansy was certainly alluding to something. 

‘Well, the Headmaster's private life has always been one of speculation in certain circles.’ 

Hermione blinked. She didn’t understand. 

‘He never married. He has no children. His rather eclectic fashion sense is legendary. I’ve seen some photographs of what he used to look like when he was young. He was really a rather attractive man, but strangely not one witch has ever interested him. It seems a little unusual, don't you think?’ 

Hermione finally got the insinuation. She felt her face pale. 

‘Draco,’ whispered Pansy as she moved closer to her and rested her hand on her neck. 

Hermione froze as her blood pulsated in anticipation. 

‘You can tell me anything,’ Pansy whispered as she moved her lips closer to hers. 

Hermione could feel Draco’s body reacting to this close presence with enthusiasm. 

It was only her own mind that was fighting this. 

Pansy leant forward as Hermione willed her face back. 

Pansy looked at her with an emphatic expression on her face. 

‘I understand. It’s absolutely fine. I've put all the pieces together. I just needed to know for sure.’ 

Hermione gulped. Draco’s body still wanted to be closer to Pansy. 

‘You have finally accepted the truth. It all makes sense to me now.'

Pansy sat back down and looked at her with a pensive expression. 

Hermione was rendered mute. She had never been so alarmed in her life.  

'I love you as the man you are. I had hoped for more, but I do understand. I can’t make you feel things for me that you cannot feel. I know now why you ceased our arrangement. It has all become clear to me. You are a homosexual.’ 

Hermione had a million words in her repertoire. She couldn’t think of just one to utter at this statement. 

Pansy took her hand and squeezed it. ‘My darling. I will always support you. I will always defend you against the bigots. You have my word.’ 

Hermione almost choked up her dinner at hearing the pureblood supremacist Pansy speak those particular words. 

‘I understand this moment will be a defining one in your life,’ Pansy said as Hermione watched her with a frozen expression. ‘You no longer need to live a lie with me. I, like many of the others, have heard the rumours about your sexuality. I just hadn’t wanted to believe them. I see now that you were trying desperately to be someone you weren't with the witches here at Hogwarts. It must have been an arduous learning process.’ 

Pansy patted her gently on the knee. 

Hermione felt another surge of physical want rush through her. 

Green eyes peered into hers. ‘We’ll get through this. Know this. I’m a very good judge of character. If I deem any man you’re seeing as not worthy, you are to pay attention to my advice. You will follow it. I won’t allow you to settle for mediocrity. You’re a prince amongst men. You deserve the very best.’ 

Pansy reached over and pulled her into a bear hug. Hermione was on the verge of a frenzy at this. It took all her willpower not to push Pansy onto the floor, settle between her thighs, snog her senseless and then release some of this ache. 

She’d never known relief like it when Pansy broke away and stood up. She exhaled in a trembling breath as her body pulsated with desire. 

Pansy gazed at her. ‘I’m so glad we had this little chat. It has set my mind at ease. I know now the truth. Thank you for your honesty. I’m a very sexual woman and you will be incapable of making love to me in the way I would need you to. The man I marry will need to be devoted entirely to satisfying my needs and wants in order for me to be happy. I demand a man who will worship my body. I expect hedonistic passion in my future.'

Hermione's pulse rate was very rapid at this point. 

Pansy smiled at her sweetly. 'It is better like this. Had this lie been allowed to continue it would have had dire consequences for both of us. I would not have been able to cope with a bland roll in the hay as you forced yourself to go through the motions. I shudder at the mere idea of living my life in a lavender marriage. If your parents hit the roof about this, which I suspect they will, you can come and live with me at Parkinson Manor.’ 

Hermione gazed at her silently at this rather precise announcement. She found not one solitary word could manifest itself. 

'Draco. I have suspected for a while now that you and I may not work out. If I must be blunt, I have, on my travels, discovered a worthy replacement. He's a dark horse, so to speak. Now, as with most things, there is a flaw. We're well suited, but the snag is he's a Gryffindor.' 

Hermione was watching Pansy through heavy-lidded eyes and could only nod at this. 

'I had been waiting to see if you would come around, but alas, it appears that this ship has well and truly sailed. Now, this union between a serpent and a lion may cause some conflict in the castle. I'm not going to ask for your support. You're simply going to give me it.' 

Hermione nodded. She actually couldn't speak. 

'His name is Cormac Mclaggen,' Pansy informed her. 

Of course it was. 

'Now, he's a very rich, arrogant bastard, which is perfect. He's just my type. He also can't keep his hands off me when we're together. I find him invigorating. He's very virile. He's wanted to go public for a while now. With this situation with yourself now rectified, I feel I can finally move forward and give him my full, proper attention.' 

Hermione's brain had shrunk to the size of a pea as her body throbbed. 

Pansy gave her a genuine smile.

‘When one door closes, another one opens. I’ll see you later, darling. Don’t worry. I’ll keep this talk just between us. You can always trust me with anything. You know that. I'll make my own way back to the castle. I understand from your face that this has been an emotional episode for you. I'll give you some time to gather your thoughts.’ 

Pansy waved goodbye as Hermione could only sit open-mouthed with only her robes to cover her modesty. 

She watched Pansy disappear around the corner. 

When eventually she could stand up properly, she furtively made her way back to the castle in silence and disappeared quickly back into her room without making eye contact with anyone. 

The door had barely been locked before the shower was activated. 

Chapter Text

Draco was sitting on his bed stroking Crookshanks in a repetitive motion to try and attempt to calm down from the most gruelling day he had ever endured in his life. That included the day he had let Death Eaters into the castle and attempted to assassinate Dumbledore. 

Crookshanks seemed to sense his agitation. He peered up with solemn eyes at Draco with his paw on his thigh. 

‘He’s such a pig, Crookshanks. Weasley is such an absolute pig,’ Draco seethed. 

Draco watched as Crookshanks seemed to nod in agreement and then meowed at him. 

‘You’re so smart, you big ball of fur. I know he’s a git. You know he’s a git. Why doesn’t she know he’s a git?’ 

Crookshanks licked his hand in sympathy. Draco smiled gently at the flat-faced cat and continued to stroke his fur for comfort. 

He wondered how Hermione was getting on with Pansy. It was getting late now. 

He leant back on the bed as he studied the current biography section of prolific muggleborns currently working at the Ministry. Albus had acquired it for them as Draco’s eyes ran down the list. 

Albus had organised a day trip for Hermione and him later in the month to visit the Ministry to interview five of these prominent witches and wizards. Draco smiled. The Headmaster was being most helpful with their project. 

He was a much better man than Draco had ever believed him to be. He’d let Hermione have her privacy in the Room of Requirement. He was encouraging them to work together and had supplied them with so much brilliant information it had really helped them. Hermione wanted this project published in book form and even Draco had to consider this was a real possibility. 

Dumbledore was even going to let them use his floo for their day trip. 

Draco wondered briefly what sort of plan Albus had in mind for the showdown with Tom. Neither Hermione nor he could get an answer. Albus had just peered at them both with his eyes twinkling and told him it was all on course.

Draco hadn’t been satisfied with that answer but at least Hermione seemed to be happy with it. She told him later that whenever the Headmaster's eyes twinkled it was very good news. 

Draco had to put his faith in that nonsense. He wondered if Albus had arranged for any secret weapons to be smuggled into the castle. Aside from hearing him talk about making sure Harry acquired the Elder Wands allegiance for certain, he’d not heard anything else even hinting at that.

He felt a tingle as he looked down to see an Otter Patronus bouncing onto his bed. He felt an immediate improvement in his mood. 

‘Meet me at mine,’ came his own voice from the Otter. 

Draco was already getting ready. Hermione didn’t sound cross. She did sound a little cautious though. 

He wondered just what had happened with Pansy. 

A little later he knew exactly what had happened with Pansy as every last bit of colour drained from his face.

‘She thinks what?’ Draco seethed. 

Hermione cringed. ‘I, er well. You see, she thinks you’re gay.’ 

‘I need you to start from the beginning and talk me through just how Pansy managed to come to that assumption,’ Draco said in the most strained voice Hermione had ever heard in her life. 

So she did in the most stilted, nervous voice Draco had ever heard her speak in.

‘I didn’t know what to do,’ Hermione told him at the end of her report. 

Draco sat back on the chair as Hermione perched on the side of the bed and peered at him worriedly. 

‘You perhaps could have said I wasn’t,’ Draco said in a low voice. 

‘I wasn’t thinking clearly. Things were happening to your body,’ Hermione spoke a little louder. 

‘You’re blaming my body for this?’ Draco asked in disbelief. 

‘Yes. She was touching me and things were moving,’ Hermione said in a higher voice. 

This stopped Draco in his tracks. 

‘Really?’ he asked. 

Hermione was blushing bright red. 

‘Really,’ she whispered. 

‘So, Pansy affected you?’ Draco asked her in a more focused tone. 

'She affected your body. My mind managed to overpower it enough when she went in for the kiss. She was testing me. She thinks because I pulled away from her that you had finally accepted the truth about your sexuality. Although, it was difficult. Your body was straining at the leash to do things to her.’ 

Hermione watched her eyes darken a little. 

‘What are you looking like that for?’ she asked. 

Draco's lips curled up. ‘I don't know what you mean.’ 

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. 

‘What are you thinking?’ Hermione questioned him. 

‘I’m not thinking anything. Er, so she’s seeing Cormac then?’ Draco moved on.

Hermione let it go and then nodded. ‘Yes. Knowing him as well as I do, I actually think they’ll be very happy. Like must be with like, I suppose.’ 

Draco nodded thoughtfully. ‘She can handle Cormac. He’s full of it but he’s alright deep down.’

‘Are you ok with Pansy moving on?’ Hermione asked him gently. 

Draco paused. ‘Pansy and I are…. I am physically attracted to her which I think you know now. I do care about her, but I don’t think we would have worked together in marriage.’ 

‘Oh, why not?’ Hermione asked him with interest. 

Draco shrugged. 'I don't know exactly. At first glance, we were perfect for each other but I always felt like I was waiting for something to happen. I never really knew for certain that she was the one and my mother said I would know when I met the woman I was meant to marry. She said I'd feel it inside of me. I always had my doubts about Pansy. I never really considered where we’d be twenty years down the line. I ended it with her because of Tom but I didn’t feel as upset by it as I should have done.’ 

Hermione gazed at him. 

‘Don’t get me wrong. She and I work well on some levels. I’m attracted to her and there is a lot about her I like. It’s similar to how you were with Krum.’ 

Hermione nodded cautiously. 

‘But something was lacking. It’s that something indefinable, isn’t it? Mother said you can’t really describe it in words. She told me what she feels for father is inside of her. It’s a part of her. She said what is essential is invisible to the eye.’ 

‘That’s from the Little Prince, isn’t it?’ Hermione asked him. 

Draco nodded. 

‘It is only with the heart that one can see rightly,’ Hermione murmured as Draco looked at her silently. 

‘Yes. That’s right,’ he said after a long moment. 

‘Viktor and Pansy,’ Hermione said as she pondered. ‘We weren’t able to love them enough. It simply wasn't in us.’ 

Draco looked at her intently at that keen observation of Hermione’s. 

Hermione looked away nervously at her rather soppy musings as Draco continued to gaze at her silently. 

'Pansy said she won’t talk,’ Hermione said to him after a while. 

Draco nodded. ‘I know she won’t. Pansy is more secure than Gringotts with my secrets.’

Hermione looked at him with a little concern. ‘I am sorry. I didn’t know what to say to her. Genuinely. My mind and mouth refused to cooperate.’ 

Draco gave her a smirk. ‘I, yes. That can happen sometimes when I get, well, amorous.’ 

Hermione didn’t say anything to that but Draco could see her neck grow a little red. 

Draco let out a big sigh as his mind considered Pansy. ‘Well, this isn't an ideal solution to the stalking, but it's a solution at least. It’s one less thing for us to worry about. She’ll be busy with Cormac for the foreseeable future.’ 

Hermione was watching him closely. ‘I suppose we need to address the elephant in the room.’ 

Draco lifted an eyebrow. 

‘Ron,’ Hermione said in a flat voice. 

Draco scowled. 

‘How’s it going with him?’ Hermione asked in a forced nonchalant voice. 

Draco gave her a very derivative look. 

‘Well?’ she asked again. 

‘I don’t know how you can stand him,’ Draco said darkly. 

Hermione flinched at those sharp words. 

‘Anyway, I thought you didn’t want to discuss Prince Charming,’ Draco said with a definite bitter tone. 

Hermione perused him. ‘I was thinking about Ron earlier.’ 

Draco gave a hollow huff. 

‘My feelings for him are changing,’ Hermione said in a low tone. 

Draco felt his heart skip a beat as he peered at her. 

‘I think it’s a lot to do with your body. When I see him, I don’t feel much anymore. What I do feel is a sort of apathy mixed in with an undercurrent of irritation. I was watching him today. Seeing him from a different perspective has been very illuminating for me.’ 

Draco leaned forward with great interest to what Hermione was confiding in him. 

‘I’ve thought about what you said as well. I’ve been thinking of everything that happened between Ron and me,’ Hermione said quietly but she then left it there. 

Draco didn’t push. This was a bewildering situation they were both in. They needed to both go at their own pace. Their bodies belonged to another. They had to live each other's lives. Even their dreams were not solely their own. Their minds were still the only thing left that was theirs. It was all they had left of themselves. They knew instinctively not to push each other on that one. When Hermione was ready to talk to him, he knew she would. 

Hermione took a deep breath as she stared at him.

Draco's felt his heart begin to thud in anticipation. She was actually going to confide in him. He watched her closely as she appeared to make a decision with herself. 

‘I'm truly seeing his reaction to the one kiss I had with Viktor all that time ago. It's actually unbearable to witness. I remember how he was with Harry and me on the Hunt and there was never anything going on between us, ever. It was too much. This is going to be beyond him. He’s never going to understand this. He will never be able to move past it. Ever. I don’t suppose I was ready to face the truth of how he would react to what we're going through. I’ve been so fixated on our history together and our current situation that in my mind I appear to have glossed over the actual unfixable problem that was staring me in the face.’

Hermione then beckoned between them. 

Draco was hardly daring to breathe. The room had taken on a more balmy quality. 

‘I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know, if we change back and my feelings for him return, Ron is never going to forgive me for the fact that you’ve been inside of me.'

Draco was paying a great deal of attention now to the words Hermione was speaking aloud to him. 

Hermione pondered him. 'What Ron and I had together in the future has now ceased to exist. It won't happen. It can't. I need to let him go. The more I've thought about it, I realise that it's for the best. I've had time to really consider what we had and I had to admit a lot of things to myself. Our relationship was already on shaky ground.  You being me, even if it's temporary, is going to make what we had together collapse completely. I need to look forward to a future without him.’ 

Draco’s eyes had darkened considerably at these particular words as Hermione watched him carefully. 

The tension between them began to increase at his intense expression toward her. 

She still felt a slight throb ease through her body as she stared back at him. She wondered at the loaded connotations of her own choice of words in regards to their body swap. Draco was inside of her. This was an indisputable fact. 

'It's over?' Draco asked her eventually. 

Hermione gave him a small nod. 'Ron will claim he thought the Christmas party wasn't a date in this timeline to justify dating Lavender. I'm under no obligation to him. After watching his performance today and knowing the truth about why he is behaving like this, I can safely say that this decision isn't one that is distressing to me. I don't know who he thinks he is, but I don't expect you to tolerate his unreasonable behaviour. You have far more important things to concern yourself with and I need your focus on that and not him. Try and ignore him if you can. Failing that, if he continues to persist in treating me like a piece of shit, then I give you permission to tell him you're withdrawing the friendship that we have. Tell him it's over. It's for the best. Harry will understand. Ron can move on with his life. Hopefully, the next woman he dates will have more patience with him than I did.' 

Draco had listened to this speech carefully. 'No more Ron?' he asked hopefully. 

'No more Ron,' Hermione said in a calm tone. 'It's the right thing to do for all of our sakes.'

Draco felt a wave of relief flood him. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while as the mood between them seemed to slowly turn into a more serene one. 

This mood was warm and inviting. 

Draco glanced across at Hermione who was sitting with a thoughtful look on her face as she appraised him. 

She gave him a coy smile as Draco saw the natural opening as he leaned forward. 

‘I think you're right. I don’t suppose he would react well to knowing I’ve been the one buried deep inside of you,’ Draco said in a low voice that dripped with innuendo. ‘He would be livid in fact.’ 

Hermione felt her body temperature rise as she watched him carefully. Her own eyes became heavy as she let those very precise words sink in.  

‘He’d see me as having been sullied by you,’ Hermione said to him in a suggestive voice as she watched Draco's jaw clench. 

Draco's eyes raked over hers. ‘He'd know that I've been able to touch you, intimately. It would enrage him.’ 

Hermione inhaled sharply at that as her heart fluttered.

They silently observed the very obvious effects their words were having on each other. They were both exhibiting rather obvious signs of enjoyment of this banter. 

Draco was well aware of his blood rushing through him as he gazed into grey, darkened eyes. He could dimly make out the ticking of a clock that sounded very far away in the distance. 

The silence that followed was charged as Draco’s eyes, her eyes, had darkened so much they were almost black. Hermione felt herself disappear into those depths. 

‘Have you ever had to touch me for mercy?’ he asked her in a thick voice. 

‘Perhaps,’ he heard her whisper.  

Draco felt himself clench. 

Hermione watched as a ghost of a smile passed his face.

‘You've felt me?’ Draco asked her in a low tone with his eyes heavy. 

She gave him a rather enticing look. 'I had to touch you for the longest time until I was given the gratification I craved,’ Hermione murmured to him as Draco began to feel the heat rapidly rise throughout him as he pushed his thighs together tightly. The wanting ache made him quiver.

His eyes pierced hers with intensity. 

Hermione felt her own mind become muggy as the tension in the room swirled. She waited for Draco's response to that revelation with bated breath. 

‘He won’t ever be forgiving of you for that. He would see that as shameless behaviour. He would want to know why you couldn't restrain yourself with my body.’ 

Draco had said this in such a slow, husky voice that Hermione could only gaze at him with increasing boldness at the implications of his words. 

The atmosphere between them was now so thick it was sultry. 

‘The polyjuice will be ready soon,’ Draco said in a quiet voice. 

‘It will,’ Hermione murmured. 

Draco left those loaded words hanging in the air. 

‘I’d best be getting back,’ Draco told her reluctantly as her eyes glanced over at the cauldron where the potion that could change them back temporarily was brewing.  

Draco stood and lingered near her for a long moment. 

‘We can see if the Vortex connection is stronger by then,’ he said in a softer tone. 

Hermione gazed at him. 'We do need to examine this attraction we have to each other in much more depth.’ 

Draco face lit up. 'I've been thinking that we should get closer to each other. If we shared more than a kiss we could make the connection stronger. The Vortex may give us answers.’ 

Hermione felt her whole body hum at that proposal as she lifted an eyebrow as if in contemplation of his proposition.  

‘I think that's wise. Thousands of lives depend on us.’ 

‘They do,’ Draco said in a warm tone. ‘They need us to be strong. I believe the Vortex is insisting we do this.’ 

Hermione gave him a small smirk. ‘I suppose then it’s justified. We have a moral duty to them to pursue this experiment to the best of our abilities.' 

Draco’s lips curled up into a smug smile. ‘It makes sense. It’s for the greater good, Hermione.’ 

‘Indeed,’ Hermione whispered. 

His eyes focused on her for a very long moment as the air crackled between them.

With a deep breath, he turned and left the room. 

Hermione waited for her heart rate to settle down before she slipped under the covers. Her whole body felt alive. Was it the Vortex causing all this? Even with all her brains, she genuinely couldn’t tell anymore. She felt the familiar craving for Draco rush through her. She closed her eyes and imagined the man she saw in the mirror. The man who would once again be in her room in the not too distant future. A man who wanted more than a kiss from her. 

Draco pulled the drapes around his bed and settled down with a large smile on his face. His day had taken a definite turn for the better. He was feeling much more vibrant than he had done. That saucy conversation with Hermione had energised him. He might not have his body, he might not have his natural charms, but he still had his words. Hermione had been very clear with her own racy vocabulary that she was more than happy to engage with him. 

Draco smiled at that. He liked a woman who knew how to use her words and he was very adept at reading between the lines, or as this evening had proved, the lines that were being clearly spoken. He was quite sure even Crabbe would have known exactly what Hermione was alluding to. 

He considered the polyjuice. To be back in his own body for some time would be a much-needed boost. He missed being himself. Their motivations were partly genuine. The Vortex held the answers they sought. The rest of him wanted to be closer to her. 

His fingers touched her lips. He closed his eyes as he imagined being in his own body. He could take her in his arms and kiss her properly in the way he needed to. He felt stupidly happy at that prospect. The kiss they had shared had been amazing. How much better would it be when he was himself? He was very curious to find out. 

Draco grinned at the other good news. Ron was officially cancelled.  

It would make it so much easier to endure his irritating ways now. Ron had lost himself the witch due to his disturbing behaviour and he didn't even know it yet. Draco also had the ace card. If and when Ron went over the line with him, he could be the one to dump him. On Hermione's behalf. 

He'd try to avoid that. He didn't want to put Harry in the prat position if he could help it. Still, it was very nice to know that he had that as an option. It would make the following weeks much less of an ordeal with the pressure off.  

He thought of the Vortex and this inexplicable pull he had towards her. Harry had told them it was a physical pull he had been feeling. A need. A craving to kiss her. 

Draco was feeling all of that too. Somewhere, deep inside him, he was feeling something else though. Something indefinable. He needed to talk to Harry properly and discover just what had been going through his head about Hermione in those days. 

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was he was feeling for her. He just knew with unerring certainty that it was good. 

He closed his eyes and pictured the witch he saw in the mirror every day. He saw her deep brown eyes that stared back at him. He recalled her playful smirk and those very revealing words he had needed to hear. He imagined her hands slipping down his chest. He saw in his mind her reaching further down as she explored him. 

Draco felt her body respond to these delicious thoughts as he brought his own fingers further down her body in soothing motions. He felt Hermione's body respond with vigour to him.  Draco slipped into that lovely place of supreme delight. 

After he was duly satisfied with his ministrations and Hermione’s body tingled with the aftershocks, he drifted off into peaceful slumber. They would be exploring the Vortex together. Just them. He considered himself a very able scholar. This was by far the greatest experiment he was ever to be a part of at Hogwarts. 

Later that night Draco woke up sweating. The vision he had been dreading to face had finally come to pass. He’d been back at the Manor. He had seen himself through her eyes. His skin was so pale it looked translucent. The bags under his eyes were prominent. He was looking much older than his years as he stared at her agony with wretched guilt written all over his face.  

Draco was breathing heavily as his heart thumped. His insane aunt had tortured her. He could still smell her rotting teeth and vile breath. His muscles were still twitching with the harsh memories. 

He felt the urge to run back to the Room of Requirement and apologise again to Hermione. The pain she had suffered was excruciating. The Vortex had pulled him out of the vision very quickly. 

Draco lay on the bed limply. It was over at least. He never wanted to see that vision ever again. It was already emblazoned on his memory until the day he died. Whatever he had to do in the future, she would never go through that again. 

He made a vow to himself in the darkness. He would never again sit there helplessly. He had despised his older self for his weakness. He would never again put himself in a position where he couldn’t hold his head high. 

He would fight with everything he had to stop history from repeating itself. 

Hermione had a much more pleasant dream that night. The Vortex had given her the night off to simply indulge her subconscious. 

Perhaps it was her testosterone-fuelled body that created such want. Perhaps it was simply coming from her. Hermione no longer cared for the reasons for this. She was simply enjoying her dream immensely. 

Draco was himself again. She was, to her joy, back in her own body. Their surroundings were hazy and flickered in and out. They were laying by the black lake in the same place she had been with Pansy earlier that day but the mood now was very different.

It was evening and the moonlight reflecting on the water and the trees gave moody, sensual shadows all around them. They were alone as grey eyes met hers. She watched his pale hands open up her shirt as she shivered pleasantly. 

She could feel light kisses on her neck that were simply not enough to sate her. She felt the soft fabric of her shirt disappear as his fingers ran softly over her nipples. 

‘More, Draco,’ she whispered. 

She felt the soft pressure of his fingers on her as they caressed her and felt his lips scatter light kisses on her. 

Hermione had a big smile plastered on her face in her dream. It was sensuous. It was sweet. She wanted the dream to move forward at a far more rapid pace. 

She felt the faint touch of his fingers on her bare breasts as she pushed forward in her need to feel more from him. This dream was too light, too faint. She could only feel the ghosts of pressure on her skin. 

Merlin, this was so frustrating. 

She ran her hands through thick blond hair that felt like air. She pulled his face to hers and moved her lips closer to his. This kiss was too vague to be truly satisfying. It wasn't anything like the actual kiss they had shared. She needed the real Draco. 

Draco’s face flickered in front of her as she leaned back and pulled him on top of her. She could feel a weight on her, but it was too delicate, too light. it wasn’t nearly enough. 

This was maddening. She could see him but she could barely feel him. She slid his shirt off him as her nails raked down his chest. 

Draco gazed at her with such an audacious look of fervour that it made her toes curl.

‘I need more,’ she muttered at him brazenly. 

Draco gave her a longing look as she watched him settle between her thighs. She saw his lean body press on top of hers. Her mind was working very hard to imagine his hard body pushing onto hers. She sighed with contentment as she finally began to feel a delicate friction begin to creep through her.  

His lips kissed her neck as she wrapped her arms around his back and ran her nails down his sides. This dream was taunting her. The sensations were too dim. Grey eyes stared into hers as she watched him start to move against her as her body began to respond with need. 

This dream was finally becoming a little more real. She could feel definite heat. Her heart began to flutter. 

She felt a sudden emptiness as he moved backwards. She watched silently as dream Draco gave her a voracious look and then slowly began to slide her skirt down. She felt tremors as her body squirmed in pleasure. 

Draco looked down at her with avid eyes. She was almost nude to him now. She watched intently as he knelt down and eased open her thighs. 

Light fingers began to stroke her inner thighs as she felt pleasant ripples run through her. 

Those fingers moved gradually further up as he looked down at her with a sensual expression. 

She sighed in pleasure as she felt a light pressure where she most needed it.

His grey eyes lingered over her body. 

‘So perfect,’ he whispered as his fingers moved to the top of her thighs and began to tease at the edge of the only piece of fabric left that was protecting her modesty. 

Hermione writhed with anticipation as her rising urges merged with her body as she looked at him through a hazy lens.

Draco gave her the most carnal look that she could ever hope to see on a lover's face. 

'Show me how much you crave me,' he murmured as his eyes raked over her body with appreciation. 

Hot blood rushed through her, gathering rapidly at her core, slowly building up into a pulsing, enticing pressure. 

Her body was trembling now with desire as his eyes pierced hers.  

His hands were so tantalising close to where she wanted them. 

She watched in a trance as his slow fingers moved to pull away the flimsy piece of silk that would leave her completely open to him. 

She was on fire right now. She could feel herself tremble as she looked down as Draco began to strip her nude. She arched her back impatiently. He was so near now, so near to where she needed him to be…...

She let out a cry of despair when lusty, racy dream Draco flitted away in her dream leaving her alone there by the lake with her body straining for more. 

She awoke with great annoyance, fuelled entirely by the tense frustration that was pulsating through her. 

‘Fuck it. Right before the good part,’ Hermione seethed out loud.

Her body was throbbing as her eyes looked towards the ominous door on the other side of the room. She could feel all of Draco’s hardness between her thighs. She reached down as her eyes rolled back at the first touch of him. His body was wound so tightly.   

Sweat was dripping off her. 

She made that familiar walk that she could now do blindfold to her sanctuary, albeit a little awkwardly. On her travels, she made a mental note to purchase some moisturiser from the Hogwarts shop. Her skin would certainly start to begin to dry out from all of her nocturnal showers otherwise.

She both blessed and cursed Draco's body and the effect it was having on her. She'd certainly loosened up a great deal since being him. She'd been more turned on this week than she had in months. A part of her wondered how much her thoughts of Draco had to do with that.

Her eyes glanced at the polyjuice on the way. This sight certainly didn’t sate her sinful thoughts as she quickened her step. 

Harry and Draco sat together in the library the next day as Harry and Hermione occasionally did to give the illusion that everything was normal and there was nothing to see here to any casual onlookers. 

The conversation had been a little stilted and quiet as Draco looked like he was very focused on his work. If Harry didn’t see grey eyes he would not have noticed the difference between the two of them. 

They sat working on some potions notes together as Draco would glance at Harry from time to time with a curious expression. 

Seeing that Draco was building up to ask something, Harry waited patiently. He didn’t want to rock this boat if he didn’t have to. Draco aroused a great many feelings in him. Many of them were not good. Still, he could see his nemesis was actually trying here to be civil and he wanted to match him. Knowing what lay ahead, the more allies he had that actually knew what to do with a wand, the better.  

After thirty minutes of furtive glances, Draco finally got to the point. 

‘Harry,’ he began as Harry sat up expectantly and put down his book. 

‘Yes?’ he asked politely. 

‘I’ve got a few questions about your experience with the Vortex.’ 

Harry nodded encouragingly. 

‘I just thought the more that I understood about it, the better.’ 

‘Sure. Yes, no problem. Ask away.’ 

Draco asked a few questions about the clarity of his memories and his dream. The colours he had seen and any particular sensations he had felt which Harry answered as well as he could. It was clear that Draco was building up to asking the question he actually wanted to know the answer to.

Harry watched him fiddle with his quill and gaze around the library in a very fake bored way before he finally got to the point. 

‘So, I mean, I just wanted to make sure I’ve got the full picture. I think that’s all.’ 

Harry waited. He knew there was more coming. 

‘Just out of curiosity, when you were wanting to be close to Hermione, what was actually going through your mind?’ 

This was asked far too casually. That Draco’s eyes looked very alert although his face was carefully relaxed, told Harry a great deal. 

Harry peered at Draco in deep thought. 

‘Just that. I wanted to kiss her. Well, you. I wanted to be close to her. It was so out of the blue. I’ve never looked at her like that before. I know we sound like a broken record, but she really is like a sister to me. It was a bit of a mess in my mind, to be honest. I didn’t know what was going on. It didn’t make any sense to me. We'd spent all that time together over the years and not once did I look at her in that way and then overnight that happened. I mean, yes, the haircut is great. I can look at her and think she’s nice to look at, but still. She’s Hermione. Well, you. How I see Ginny and how I see her is like night and day.’ 

Draco pretended to be very interested in his parchment. ‘Did you think about anything else?’ 

‘In what way?’ Harry asked. 

‘Well, more than kissing?’ 

Harry actually blushed as Draco waited. 

‘I, er, maybe cuddling. I wanted to wrap myself around her,’ he said in a stilted tone. 

‘Did you ever think about, well, doing more with her?’ Draco asked so quietly Harry had to strain his ears. 

‘Well, a little, you know. It’s stopped now.’ 

Draco actually looked directly at him at that. 

‘Define a little?’ he asked as he felt a little irrational jealousy go through him. 

‘It was similar to how I felt with Ginny when I first started really seeing her. It was a physical response. It was something deep inside me that kept reacting to her. I couldn't stop it even if I'd wanted to. That changed over time with Ginny into something more.’ 

Draco picked at that thread. ‘What do you think about when you think of Ginny now?’ 

Harry tilted his head at this conversation he never once thought he’d have with Malfoy. 

‘You know, stuff,’ he muttered.  

Draco took a deep breath. ‘Can you go into a little more detail? I, er, the more I know the better.’ 

Harry peered at him. He had noticed Draco’s intense looks at Hermione. This question was clearly more important than Draco was letting on. 

‘I remember the times we’ve been close to each other. I think of kissing her. I think about how she makes me feel when she touches me. I think about things we’ve talked about. I think about the future and what our kids will look like. What sort of house we’ll live in. What my life might be with her and things like that. I wonder if we'll get a dog or a cat as a pet. I don’t know if that’s normal but that's what goes through my head when I think of Ginny now.’ 

Draco was watching him like a hawk. 

‘Did you think that far ahead with Hermione?’ Draco asked in a very light voice. 

‘No. Actually, now you mention it I wasn’t thinking of those sorts of things with her. I really just wanted to kiss her. It was physical. As I said, it was very confusing for me.’ 

Harry watched Draco’s face with consternation. 

He swore about ten different emotions had flickered over Draco's face in less than a second. 

Draco had gone from shock to fear to joy and then decided to adopt a strangely neutral expression. 

‘Why?’ Harry asked him curiously. 

‘I’m just studying the Vortex, that’s all. How it works and why it works the way it does.’ 

Harry kept silent for a moment. 

‘I’m not satisfied with that answer, Draco.’ 

Draco looked away. 

‘What's the truth?’ Harry asked. 

Draco shrugged. ‘I’m just seeing how much the changes in me are due to the Vortex, how much is due to the body swap and what is actually coming from myself.’ 

Harry frowned. 

‘Changes?’ 

‘I’ve been very much out of my comfort zone. I've been having some unusual thoughts.’ 

Harry pursed his lips in contemplation. ‘Why are you so interested in what I was feeling for Hermione?’ 

‘She’s a huge part of this too,’ Draco said in a quiet voice. 

Harry peered at him. 

Draco was clearly ready to move on from this odd conversation. 

‘Do you want to kiss her?’ Harry asked in a very quiet tone. 

He actually saw Draco gulp. 

'You actually do, don't you?' Harry gasped out. 

Draco looked at him with a perplexed face but he didn't refute the accusation. 

'You have to talk to her about this, Draco. She needs to know. Merlin.'

Harry was actually shocked by this. 

‘I have spoken to her about this,’ Draco murmured.

'And?' Harry enquired. 

‘It’s mutual.’ 

Harry had heard many secrets in his life. He had experienced many shocking moments that would have had military men quaking in their boots, but this defied belief. This was number one. Even learning about Tom's Horcruxes hadn't made him feel this level of shock. 

‘We both think it’s the Vortex causing this. Maybe,’ Draco said in a low tone. 

Harry was still taking the news that Draco and Hermione wanted to be physical with each other onboard. 

‘You and Hermione? Together? That's insane,’ Harry gawped. 

‘It’s not that weird,’ Draco said defensively. 

‘Not that weird,’ Harry repeated robotically. 

‘This is a strange time for both of us,’ Draco said in a wavering voice that seemed to run out of steam towards the end. 

‘Strange time,’ Harry mimicked. 

‘None of this is normal, Harry,’ Draco said. 

‘Normal, Harry.'

Harry’s brain had short-circuited. 

He could only stare at Draco with his mouth wide open. 

He suddenly had the image of Hermione and Draco on their wedding day emblazoned onto his panicked imagination. There was Lucius holding a machete to Hermione’s throat as Narcissa was preparing her wand for the killing curse at Draco. 

‘They’ll fucking kill you, Draco,’ Harry breathed out in shock. 

‘What?’ 

‘Your parents,’ Harry said in a strangled voice. ‘They’ll kill both of you if they find out.’ 

Draco tutted. ‘My mother and father aren't like that. They wouldn’t be killing us. They would simply burn me off the family tree, disown me officially and then banish me into the wilderness without a sickle and tell me never to darken their doorstep again. They’re not monsters. They're just extremely bigotted. It was explained to me when I was very young what would happen to me if I disgraced my family and consorted with a muggleborn witch. Even if I defied my family and married her, they still wouldn't kill me. I accepted the terms they proposed.’ 

Harry couldn’t stop staring at Draco after learning of this new insight into the inner workings of the House of Malfoy.  

‘Anyway, I’m not talking about marriage,’ Draco said although Harry saw Draco avert his eyes briefly at that statement. 

‘Well, what are you talking about?’ Harry asked. 

‘I just wanted to know if it was the Vortex causing this, or not. It appears that it’s a grey area from what you’ve told me.’ 

Harry was still reeling from learning Draco and Hermione fancied each other. How the hell did that work? They were each other. He stared at Draco in a trance.  

‘It’s so much more than just wanting to kiss her,’ Draco said. ‘Other things are happening. I’m feeling things for her I didn’t know I could feel. I don’t know if this is Hermione’s estrogen causing all these emotions. I don’t know what's happening to me. I’ve never been like this before about anyone. I can't get her out of my head. It’s very unnerving.’ 

For a moment Harry was entirely sure Draco was going to start weeping. 

Draco seemed to pull it together at the last second. 

‘Like I said. It’s best if you don’t mention this to anyone due to the circumstances we’re all under. If Hermione wants to discuss it with you then she will. Don’t raise the issue if she doesn’t. This is all very delicate.’ 

Harry nodded dumbly at that. He had no intention of raising the issue with Hermione voluntarily. This was beyond him. He couldn't even handle her talking to him about Ron in a personal way. Let alone Draco.  

Merlin, Hermione sure knew how to pick them. 

‘You’re the best, Harry,’ Draco said in a sob. 

Not much frightened Harry anymore, but that sob sent chills through him. 

‘I’m sure the Vortex is leading the way,’ Harry said in his most comforting voice. ‘This will all sort itself out in time. Try not to worry. I’ll do my best to support you. Both of you.’ 

Draco’s eyes went watery with tears. 

‘I can see why Hermione is such good friends with you. You really do care about her so much,’ Draco said in a tremulous voice. 

Harry blinked. Here they went again. Overly emotional Draco was unsettling to him. 

‘For god’s sake, man. Pull it together,’ Harry said uncomfortably. ‘I know there have been changes for you but it’s only a few bloody hormones.’ 

'How can you be so insensitive? You have no fucking idea what they go through. I thought testosterone was bad. This is worse than being on an erratic broom at times. There are days when I can be up then down in the blink of an eye. I must be ovulating.’ 

Harry froze for a moment. He then put his books back in his bag and stood up as emerald eyes pierced grey. 

‘Draco. I will talk to you about many things to help the war effort but I draw the line at ovulation,’ Harry hissed. 

With that, he stormed off as Draco stared at his retreating figure mournfully. He sniffed to himself in pity. He took a few deep breaths and went back to his book. His mind began to wander as he thought back to their conversation. 

Harry had only felt a physical pull toward Hermione. He hadn’t been thinking of the future. Draco bit his lip in thought. This was different. He knew that for certain. He was beginning to suspect this wasn’t just the Vortex at play after all. This was coming from them. A part of Hermione wanted to be with him. With Draco. For real. He wanted to be with her. He could admit that to himself. That thought felt like a warm, comforting hug. 

A broad smile appeared on his face as his body leapt from maudlin to happiness in a few short seconds. 

Chapter Text

The days began to pass.

Ron was still being himself. He treated Draco to sneering coldness and looks of condemnation.

Draco simply ignored him. 

Ron didn’t seem to get the message that it was over and persisted with his acrimonious behaviour. He stalked around the castle glaring at anyone with a heartbeat. Occasionally even the ghosts were subjected to his narrowed eyes and scowls. 

Every time Ron was in her vicinity, Hermione would take one look at his dissatisfied face towards Draco, knowing this unreasonable attitude was specifically aimed at her and she would not feel much at all at the sight that greeted her. She had accepted the loss with grace. 

In time she knew that Ron would get bored with this and move on with his life. He was immature. He could tell himself whatever he wanted to about her. By the time Lavender came along, she would be quickly forgotten. 

She was far more interested in being in Draco's vicinity. His body language towards her had certainly evolved. Now he knew for certain she more than welcomed his presence a much more assured Draco was making himself known. 

Not being in his own body obviously had its limitations but he did what he could with what he had been given. 

Their evenings spent working on the project had taken on a more unique quality. It had been underscored by dark, searing looks and tactile touches. On more than one occasion his hand had squeezed her knee and then playfully lingered on her inner thigh as they had sat together in the library. She in turn would give him that redolent smile of hers and graze his hand with hers. They were waiting impatiently for the polyjuice that could turn this around for them. 

Draco had initiated playful conversations with her which she had found invigorating. 

They also spoke of things unrelated to the project and the Vortex. Draco would talk to her about his ancestors and eccentric family members. She would tell him about her favourite books in detail and her family. They talked of their times spent in Paris and London and of the little things that had happened in their lives. They spoke at length about their hobbies. They were asking each other questions, not for their mission but because they genuinely wanted to know more about the other. 

They both understood this was the real getting to know you phase. 

They had briefed each other about all the practical details at the start of this body swap with each other. Where they had been on holiday. Their favourite colours. Now they were talking about how things had made them feel. 

They both opened up to each other about the war and what they had been truly feeling. The fear they both had endured in that dark time. It was easier now to discuss. They knew first-hand what the other had been feeling. Their reactions to Riddle and the Death Eaters had been much the same in the end. They had both felt contempt and anger for them. They'd both felt the frustration at how easy it was for them to hurt people and they both held a seething resentment for the Ministry for allowing what was essentially a terrorist group to do so much damage. 

That their world's fate had landed on the shoulders of a young man who hadn't even graduated from Hogwarts showed just how weak their infrastructure was. 

If Fudge and the Ministry hadn't been such cowardly nit-wits in the first place they would have been much better prepared. 

Hermione was writing her own story for the Muggleborn Appreciation Project about her personal experiences. The good and the bad. 

Draco had begun to write his. He had told her this was not to be published until they were safe though. Hermione had squeezed his hand tightly at the implications of this. He was still optimistic. 

Pansy had gone public with Cormac which had caused a wave of gossip in the castle. Lavender and Parvati were in their element. 

Hermione had done what she had apparently promised she would do and had publicly supported Pansy against any criticism. As this was quite personal to her now it was in her own best interest to defend such a scandalous dalliance. 

Cormac has shaken her hand with enthusiasm in thanks for standing by Pansy in her hour of need. Hermione had managed to put his future actions regarding his wandering hands to the back of her mind. Pansy was happy she had solved her mystery and the Sneakoscope hadn't gone off since that rather bizarre conversation they'd shared at the black lake. 

Ginny was still with Dean but she was shooting Harry the occasional, discreet glance. He in turn was being very charming to her. 

She had quietly thanked him for standing up for her with Ron. Harry had been very gracious with her. He made sure that his eyes lingered a little too long at her. He made sure she noticed. He wouldn’t be an outright pig to Dean by going behind his back.

Ginny still needed to make her own decision with her choice, but Harry knew what he wanted now and he made sure he was blatant enough that Ginny would also know. He was quietly confident. He knew in the future that what he felt for her was returned.

As he had told Draco, he couldn't have stopped those feelings for Ginny with all the will in the world. They weren't like a tap. 

He could wait for her. She was more than worth that. 

Draco had to endure the overly casual interrogation from Ginny about what was going on in Harry’s psyche. 

Harry had been one step ahead and had briefed Draco to tell her to simply speak to him. Draco had handled it with ease and had given her a knowing look which Ginny had read as easily as she would the HoneyDukes sign. There had been a flash of joy in her eyes to this overt hint that Draco had dropped. 

Ginny was occasionally looking at Harry with a lot of curiosity now. She had been spending more time talking with him. Dean and she were still getting along. Harry knew that would change. They’d argued too much in the original timeline. Harry bided his time patiently.

He spent some of his spare time talking with Dumbledore about his life. 

Those precious hours with the Headmaster did a great deal of good for them both. Now Harry knew all the messy truths about everything, Albus could simply talk to him man to man. 

Severus was his normal, dark self. Black eyes peered out at them all. He gave nothing away. It was impossible to know what he thought. 

Hermione had procured more polyjuice ingredients from him with a simple polite request.

Whether Severus suspected anything was amiss was impossible to know but he did what she asked him without comment. He hadn't asked Hermione about the mission yet. In fact, he didn't ask her about anything. 

Draco told her he'd been quiet with him at this stage in the original timeline. He'd begun questioning him later in the year so Hermione put it to the back of her mind. Snape was supplying them with what they needed, no questions asked, which was their priority right now. 

Hermione kept the swagger up. Crabbe and Goyle were treated to her mini Capone impressions where she bragged about her mission and how brilliant she was to their unrelenting fascination.

Life slowly moved on. 

The Daily Prophet reported a rise in random attacks against muggleborns in the country. Dementors had been seen in places they shouldn’t be. 

The constant reminder of what lurked in the future did prey on each of their minds. Albus seemed calm, however. 

Harry knew that when the Headmaster was calm, there was always hope. 

Harry was still reeling days later that somehow Hermione had developed feelings for Draco. He had enough sense to know that Draco wasn’t the little shit Draco he remembered from their younger years. He’d seen him in the Great Hall the day Riddle had won. The look of hopelessness on his face was forever embedded in his memory. Draco's fate had been vile in the extreme. If Harry couldn't forget that, neither would Draco. 

It had been the wake-up call of the century. Harry knew though that Draco had woken up long before that. He knew what he had done for Luna and the others at the Manor. What he had done for him. 

He’d pondered Hermione occasionally. For a witch so involved in her academics she did get a considerable amount of action. 

He knew her well though. She’d spoken to him very briefly about Ron. Harry had been given a swift account of Hermione's conclusive summary of that situation. He was relieved for its brevity.  

Harry had to concede the fact that she was most probably right. Whatever happened, the moment Ron found out about the body swap, it would get messy. Ron would hang onto that issue until his dying day. She would never be allowed to forget it. 

Hermione didn’t seem nearly as upset by this as he had assumed she would be. Strangely, she seemed quite exuberant at the prospect of no longer being tied to him. Harry had to admit to himself it would be one obstacle too high to get over. Ron would go ballistic and see Hermione as tainted goods for the rest of his days. 

He'd flipped out over one kiss. 

Harry had been watching Ron scream, shout and kick walls all week. He watched this endless childlike tantrum with morbid fascination. He'd attempted to discuss these outbursts with Ron several times but to no avail. Ron would simply snap that he was fine and then storm off. The only person he seemed to be normal with was Lavender. They were at the visible flirting stage. 

Harry wondered if Ron would stay with Lavender this time around. Harry would have a quiet word with the blonde and tell her to tone down her clingy ways and to avoid saying Won Won. It might work. 

Harry had to admit to himself they would stand a better chance of being happy together than the alternative. Lavender had a rather strange fascination with Ron. 

Like Draco and Hermione, Harry wondered what the Headmaster had planned for them. 

He was enjoying this trip down memory lane for the most part. Ron’s attitude was the only blot on the horizon. 

Harry was going through the motions with his days. He still intended to do the placebo effect experiment with Ron but he had gone straight to Ginny this time around. Draco didn't even like being in the same room as Ron anymore. Harry doubted he would want to get involved with his life in the slightest. 

Draco certainly wasn't going to help do anything to improve the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was, after all, still a Slytherin. 

Ginny had agreed to do a bit of acting for the good of the team. She'd thought it a good idea at least. Ron was being impossible in Quidditch practice and something needed to change. 

Hermione was in constant flux. She’d never been so attracted to someone before in her life. She would watch how animated Draco was with her. His quick wit matched hers. He could keep up with her. More than that was his focus on her. 

The way his eyes would linger on her made her start feeling all sorts of things. It was sheer want in his eyes. Her eyes. 

She’d never have considered a man like him as a partner when she was younger. Even without the blood issue, she would have initially considered the Draco she had known on the surface to be too vain and far too privileged. Life had changed them both though.

Life had certainly changed him immensely. They had both stared Azkaban and death in the face together. 

They were both capable of impossible things when those they loved were threatened. They were the same in that way.

The physical attraction to him was only part of it. His enthusiasm for the project had her seeing him through new eyes. He was very considerate of her. They had spoken at length about their visions. 

They were both still visiting each other's past, but they were far tamer visions than they had been. Draco had dreamt of being in the library several times. Hermione had been at Malfoy Manor, lounging in the garden. Day trips and nice memories with the people they were close to featured quite a lot. Draco had seen several memories of her parents. They were happy in those visions. The Vortex was showing them all sides of each other. 

It was cathartic to address them with someone who knew first-hand what those experiences had felt like. 

Hermione had seen glimpses of many aspects of Draco’s history. She had seen how intimidating and sarcastic his father could occasionally be with him. It was almost as if Lucius was goading him. Testing him. He was seeing what sort of man Draco was turning into. There had always been an air of disappointment with his attitude towards his son which didn't make any sense to her. Draco had tried to emulate his father in many ways, until the day he didn't.  

There was the obvious love his mother shared with him. She saw what annoyed him. Draco really didn't like it when people didn't laugh at his jokes. She had pointed this out to him through sniggers. Draco had lifted his chin and had blamed it on immaturity. 

She saw what actually made him happy. She would dip in and out at random times in his life. One of her favourite visions was seeing him at the first ball he’d attended and how impressed he had obviously been with the elegance of it all. After seeing the more sordid memories of the war this was a sharp contrast. 

Hermione had felt how low he was when he had confided in Moaning Myrtle in the run-up to his mission. 

What stuck in her head was how well he danced. His movements were very fluid and graceful. Draco had told her he’d practised for years. His mother had taught him the steps and he had taken to it all like a duck to water. 

He told her he knew how much she enjoyed dancing. He’d felt her excitement at the Yule Ball. 

He had actually asked her for a dance when they changed using the polyjuice which had made her feel a bit giddy. He'd told her how much he had missed it. 

These feelings she had for Draco were new in more ways than one. She’d had romantic daydreams about Ron. Although she'd had to make daydreams up about romantic Ron as they didn’t come close to reality. 

Draco actually did have a romantic side. 

She had never considered herself an overly passionate woman but these feelings for Draco were becoming gradually more virile. 

The way his body responded to her was so electric. 

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued. This was unprecedented to her. Her life had taken so many twists and turns that she was still trying to make sense of this. 

She knew her own mind though. What she was feeling for him was very physical. It was also very real. She hoped. She had contemplated the effects of the Vortex several times. Harry had told her that for him it had only been physical. He'd not been thinking beyond a kiss which had led to her having second doubts about the Vortex being solely responsible. She was seeing Draco in new ways. She pondered him. He'd certainly moved on from his past. He spoke to her as an equal. He asked her for advice on occasion. He was a far cry from his younger self. 

Her mind flashed to his parents. Lucius was still in Azkaban. She thought of his mother. She prodded that thought. Would Draco pursue what this was with her? She sighed. Nights spent alone with just each other in the Room of Requirement were one thing. Taking her home to meet his parents was quite another. She doubted they'd even let her in the front door. 

They would have to be a secret for now. Taking into consideration their current predicament, one had to imagine that Narcissa’s head might explode knowing Hermione was now her son. They couldn’t speak of this to anyone. 

She supposed Dumbledore and Harry were available to talk to about this. She sighed. She hadn’t even wanted to talk about Ron to Harry. 

What could Dumbledore say? He’d tell her to follow her heart. 

Hermione smiled at that. He was such a romantic. She supposed she’d answered her own question. In situations like this, you could only follow that. 

Draco Malfoy. She gazed into space. Of all the wizards at Hogwarts, why him? She looked down at herself. The body swap was one thing. Desires were something she could understand. Harry had felt a pull to her. The Vortex could be driving this. However, she was by nature a cerebral person. It was partly her mind that was being pulled towards him. She knew her mind. She didn't think the Vortex was touching that. She hoped very much that was the case. It was giving her free will. 

She’d never known a man quite like him. She gave herself a hug at that. He could keep up with her. He was genuinely respectful of her ambitions. 

She bit her lip as her mind looked at the big picture.

He was also a Slytherin. 

In the corner of her mind, she thought of Severus. Even the snake was capable of intense love. She felt her heart clench at that fact. Then her more practical side overrode that thought. She was getting way ahead of herself. At this stage, they were simply attracted to each other. They certainly liked each other. That was obvious with how well they were interacting with each other. 

She thought of his intense eyes. Friends didn’t look at each other like that. She remembered with crystal clear clarity their kiss. It had been the strangest, most wonderful sensation she had ever experienced. 

They were risking so much to right the future’s wrongs. Draco was risking death or Hell in Azkaban if he was discovered working against Tom. He was doing this for all of them as well. 

She recalled their sometimes very thrilling conversations. She enjoyed the way he flirted with her.

Just his words could get her all hot and bothered. What would it be like when he was himself again? She felt her tummy flip. 

The cauldron that was brewing the polyjuice sat ominously in the corner. From time to time, their eyes would turn to it as a knowing look would flitter over their faces at each other. 

The days were ticking down. 

The castle was fairly quiet. People were acting as they normally had in the original timeline.

Hermione and Draco had learnt how to play their parts very well now. 

Harry would pop in from time to time to talk with them. They’d go over their past. They'd discussed the horrendous future that would not happen as it had done. 

His emerald eyes would be questioning, but he didn’t ask Hermione any questions about her feelings for Draco and she didn’t tell. Draco was very much on her mind. She knew Harry would always have her back. Even if it was regarding what may seem to others as outrageous personal choices. 

His conversations with Draco were becoming longer. Draco seemed to be a little stiffer around Harry than he was with her but that was to be expected. 

They were all getting far more comfortable with each other. 

Draco’s nocturnal dreams about Hermione were becoming far more pleasing to him as well. 

They had been subtle but inviting. 

His favourite was one of them in bed together. It was such a simple dream but the one that had been the most effective. The outside of it had been blurry and he had felt so light.

He was in his own body with Hermione curled into him on the bed. One of her legs was resting over his legs. His hands were stroking her hair as she kissed his neck. He'd run his hand down her back as she'd nestled in closer to him. 

He had watched her drape her hand over his torso. He felt a closeness to her that he’d never felt before towards anyone. The thought both intimidated him and excited him. 

He'd pictured her nails running down his chest with a whimsical smile on her face. 

He'd never felt such a feeling of being so utterly content in his entire life. There was nothing more he wanted.  

Dream Hermione had gazed at him through eyes that made him feel so loved and safe as he looked down at her fingers that were moving down lower. 

He'd felt a wave of need surge through him at her touch. 

‘I do hope you can achieve an outstanding with me, Draco’ she had said to him in that suggestive tone she had used on him before.  

‘I promise you I will never disappoint,’ Draco told her in a whisper. 

She had looked at him with that easy smile she had as his eyes had roamed over her.  

'No one makes me feel like you can,' he had said to her in earnest. 

'Only you,' she had whispered back to him.  

Draco had never known that so few words could mean so much to him. 

Draco had a big smile on his sleeping face those nights the sandman visited him. 

Those halcyon days passed by in an eerily calm fashion for both of them.

It all felt ominously like the calm before the storm. 

‘It’s ready,’ Hermione murmured to Draco as they passed each other in the quiet corridor.

He felt a charge of lightning race up his spine at that most welcome news. 

He drew in a long breath as he gave her a broad smile. 

‘Later,’ he whispered as they carried on their way unnoticed. 

There was a definite spring in his step as they parted ways. 

Draco was a man with a natural affinity for fashion. He understood the relationship a person had between themselves and the clothes they wore.

He had slipped out of Hogwarts the previous weekend and he had purchased Hermione the most feminine dress he could find in Harvey Nichols. He added some jewellery to accessorise with. It was his gift to her for bearing up so well under such uncomprehending pressure. 

Draco also understood that, although his clothing was exemplary, it was far too macho for Hermione. A tasteful dress would do wonders for her psyche. He'd chosen the blue he'd seen her in at the Yule Ball. She hadn’t been herself for a long time now and she must be straining to get back into her own body, even if it was for a short time. He knew he was.

He braced himself for this evening because this was a date, no matter what way you looked at it and he made his discreet way to meet the object of his affection. 

He didn’t know exactly what this was between them but he knew it meant a great deal. Their light flirting was obvious to them both. They had both dropped the pretence of claiming this evening was simply an experiment. He did know he very much wanted to pursue what he was feeling towards her. He was a curious man by nature and what was happening between them was very much at the forefront of his mind. This was unprecedented. 

He rolled his shoulders back and then knocked politely on her door. 

Hermione twisted the Slytherin ring on her finger as her heart skipped a beat at his knock. She raked her fingers through her hair and made her way to the door. 

She greeted him with a shy smile as Draco looked around the room with interest. Hermione had gone to some effort. The lighting was dimmed. Candles were placed strategically around the room. There was some quiet music playing in the background. 

He toyed with a lock of his hair as they both watched each other carefully and let themselves acclimatise. 

‘So, tonight's the night we get to be ourselves,’ Draco said carefully. 

She inclined her head towards him and nodded. 

‘I bought you this. It’s something for you to change into,’ he told her. 

‘How thoughtful. Thank you,’ Hermione smiled at him as she took the bag. ‘I picked you out a suit. It's immaculate, just the way you like it.’ 

She passed Draco one of his favourite items.

His fingers stroked it with fondness as her eyes watched the motion carefully. 

'Here. Your ring,' she said as she slid the ring off and passed it to him.

'Thanks,' he murmured. 

Hermione lifted out the rather nice dress. It was a pale blue. 

‘I knew you liked the colour,’ he said bashfully. ‘You were wearing it at the ball.’ 

She smiled very broadly at him for that. 'It's beautiful. Thank you ever so much.' 

Draco smiled back. So far, so good.  

Draco watched her gesture to the two goblets of polyjuice. 

‘Shall we?' she asked. 

Draco felt a shiver at the prospect. ‘There’s no time like the present,’ he said. 

Hermione looked a little nervous. ‘I thought we could wear robes for the changes. I'll just go and get changed into one behind the partition.’ 

Draco grinned. ‘If that makes you more comfortable, of course.’ 

They retreated to other sides of the room to change. 

Hermione began to strip her clothes off and then slid her robe around herself. 

Draco felt this awkward scene of modesty from Hermione rather charming. 

They met back in the middle and plucked a hair each from their head and placed it in the magical mixture. 

The liquid began to bubble as they took a last look at each other. 

They both peered with interest at the colours. 

‘Your’s is a lovely emerald green, Draco,’ Hermione said happily. 

‘Your’s is golden,’ Draco said with interest as he looked again at her. 

‘I’ve been very careful with this,’ Hermione said. ‘Hopefully, I’ve brewed it well enough that we should at least get the evening. I doubt we’ll get the full twelve hours. Only a potions master could generate polyjuice that good but we’ll certainly have some proper time to be us again.’ 

Draco grinned at that. 

‘I’ve told Parvati and Lavender I’m taking an early night. Not that they paid any attention to me in the slightest. They won't notice I'm not there. I've locked the drapes just in case.’

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look.  

‘I’ll see you in a minute,’ Draco said. 

‘Likewise,’ Hermione said as she took a step back and lifted the goblet. 

The depth and tones of their voices would change back. Their accents and speech patterns would be their own again. 

Draco gazed longingly at his black suit as they both knocked back the liquid and prepared themselves for the inevitable writhing as the potion took effect. It was going to be well worth it. 

A burning sensation went through them both and they felt their skin bubble like hot wax. 

‘Nearly there,’ Hermione panted out. 

They could feel their bodies change shape. Draco shot up as Hermione went back down. Draco felt his hair shoot back up as Hermione felt the pleasant sensation of hair on the back of her neck again. 

Relief they’d got through it and then wonder as they stared at each other was easy to read in the eyes of the other.

Draco ran his hand repeatedly through his blond locks as Hermione did the same to her much-missed hair. 

They were patting themselves, touching their noses and chins with expressions of deep elation. 

‘Oh, Salazar, this feels good,’ Draco murmured. 

Hermione was running her hands down herself with an almost frenetic joy. 

She moved over to the mirror and stared at herself. 

‘I’m me again,’ she said with reverence. 

Draco slid his ring back onto his finger and then stood beside her as they stared at their reflections. 

Hermione’s eyes ran down his face as she looked at him with great interest. Draco returned that transfixed stare. 

They broke away. 

‘I’m going to get changed,’ Draco said quietly. 

Hermione nodded as she moved away from him to change. 

Draco slid on his trousers and felt for what had been missing greatly from his life with great vigour. The most enormous sense of well being flooded him. He could handle many things in his life but that particular loss had hit the hardest. 

Hermione slipped on her dress and took a long moment to check that she was all present and correct. 

It was with much more relaxed expressions that they returned to the centre of the room. 

‘I’m never going to take my body for granted ever again,’ Hermione murmured. 

‘You really shouldn’t,’ Draco said with a low voice as his eyes darkened at the sight of her in that dress. ‘It is rather delectable.’ 

Hermione gave him an evocative smile as she watched how his eyes trailed down her. Hearing his deeper voice now sent her heart rate thumping. She felt her breath hitch. Her outer appearance was very much herself, but inside she was still Draco. Draco had his own body back, but he was her inside. 

She wondered how this would affect their experiment. 

She wasn’t a nun. She had felt a nice sensation inside her kissing Krum and had some mild fantasies in the past involving Ron, but those thoughts had been far tamer. These fantasies about Draco were much more primal. They were much more wanting. 

She had wasted away many lovely hours thinking of this night in preparation. 

Her dreams had been frequent with the physical need for him. He still retained a subtle arrogance to him that she found rather alluring. His meaner side had disappeared when he was with her.

He kept just on the right side of being saucy without being crude. She had seen him with other witches and knew he was certainly a confident man. He had good reason to be assured. 

Now she had acclimatised more to the visions she had reached a far more comfortable level with the racier side of Draco. 

She had imagined how this evening would go plenty of times. 

She knew Draco had been exploring with other witches but he had moved past that. She also knew he hadn’t shown her any judgement about her past either. He was mature enough to understand how people worked. He had shown concern for her situation with Ron but he had known when to back off and let her make her own mind up about him. 

From what he had alluded to about his parents it was clear he was looking for a witch for the long term. For all their other issues, Lucius and Narcissa at least had a wonderful marriage. This was something that Hermione suspected Draco was sure to want to emulate. 

Her fantasies had become even more insatiable at these realisations. She wasn't one for short liaisons. She needed structure and reliability in her life. She'd not had much of either but it was her end goal. It was one of the reasons she fought so hard against Riddle and his followers. 

As her own eyes stared at Draco without hesitation her salacious thoughts swirled in her mind as she considered him. He knew her better than most now.

She sat down on the bed as Draco took a seat in the chair next to her. She crossed her ankles as she always used to do. 

His eyes casually ran up her legs without any attempt to conceal his interest. They were well past the point of acting shy and naive with each other. 

He smoothed down his shirt and leant forward. She set her hands on the bed and leant back and perused him. 

He watched her play with her hair a little as she met his eyes. 

‘Being myself is doing wonders for me,’ she told him. 

Draco grinned. ‘Same.’ 

Hermione really looked at him then. She had become so used to seeing her face. The difference in how he used to look at her was so much more striking to see in his face now. She had known on some level his feelings for her had grown but this was rather startling to witness.  

There was still that slight haughtiness with him that seemed to be ingrained. His posture was dignified. It was his eyes that were a complete contrast from what she was used to. They were so different. She had seen brown eyes looking at her with the same expressions but this was far starker in comparison.  

Those eyes were looking at her with deep interest. There was joy in them now. They seemed so much more alive. Hermione now knew for certain just how much had changed between them. 

Draco in turn was paying her close attention as well. 

When he was younger, he had been so used to seeing the bossy bookworm and their many altercations had certainly not endeared her to him that he had never truly looked at her. Since he had gotten older, he had started paying more actual attention to the changes in her.

Since being in her body he was paying her more focus than he had ever done anyone in his life.

She was looking at him differently too. It was much more blatant and so much more assured than it had been. There were no suspicions in her eyes. There were no looks of condemnation. She held herself with a much more open stance with him than she had used to. 

He spent a few moments studying her which she let happen without comment. She was as clearly intrigued by what she was seeing as he was. 

Draco’s eyes raked down her brazenly as she felt a chill run down her own body. She had seen that particular look frequently in her rather steamy dreams. Draco stared back at her. She was herself again. His lips curled up. His mind had been erratic. What he was now seeing had convinced him this was more than the Vortex. His mind and body were already pulling closer to her. Whatever this was between them was very real. 

No mind games were being played here. There was genuine zeal. Draco was certain of it. 

Her own brown eyes caught his. Draco could see her pupils enlarge as he felt a thrill inside of him. 

He knew then for certain then that she wanted him.

It would be easy, so easy to give in and submit to these urges. 

He leant forward. 

'Merlin, I hope this isn’t just magic,’ she whispered to him as she leaned closer. ‘I have felt things for you that have shocked me.’ 

Draco lifted an eyebrow as his heart thudded with excitement. 

‘Really? That is very interesting to me. Would you care to elaborate?’ 

Hermione peered at him. Here was a man who was so close to her now, in all the ways it was possible to be.

A man who was truly on her side. A man who made her giddy. She looked at him silently. 

Draco was giving her a mischievous smile. 'Would it be easier to show me?' he asked. 

Her heart thudded hard at those words. She wanted him. She wanted this. 

Hermione ran her hand down his thigh and turned to him with such a suggestive grin his eyes lit up. 

‘I’ve dreamt about you at night,' she told him. 'They’re so faint. You’re almost there but not quite. I need this tonight. It’s been very frustrating. I needed to sate these urges I have for you.’ 

Draco looked at her through darkening eyes. ‘I dream about you too. They've been very charming.' 

Hermione stayed still for a moment as she peered at him in deep thought.  

He watched her touch her neck in a very tactile manner as she maintained steady eye contact.  

Draco knew how to read signals very well. He knew this must be handled delicately. He didn’t want to startle her with any sudden movements. 

He gently lifted his hand and placed it on her ankle. He held it there as he simply stared at her in that language known to all as the language of lust. 

Her eyes widened as he watched her press her hand to her chest and inhale deeply at his touch. He was very encouraged by this. 

He was now back to being him. He was in his comfort zone. There were several things he did very well and this was one of them. 

A woman needed to be warmed up slowly. She needed to be seduced with a delicate touch and an amorous vibe. He knew he needed to put Hermione at her ease. 

His hand very slowly and smoothly ran up her leg as he gazed at her with intensity. 

The moment seemed to drift on endlessly. 

‘Draco. Would you please pick up the pace and kiss me,’ Hermione told him in a strangled voice.

He gave a jolt and then a feeling of immense joy rushed through him at hearing these very direct words addressed only to him. 

These were precisely the words Draco needed to hear. He felt her hand reach out for his shirt and pull him towards her. 

Lips came crashing together as Draco was kissed firmly, deeply and with so much passion that his toes curled in delight. 

Draco was so lost in this elation. His skin was tingling, his mouth was on fire as Hermione took charge. 

Draco was more than happy to let the lady lead the pace. 

He didn’t quite know when he was flipped onto his back. He did know when Hermione straddled him. He grinned stupidly at her as his polyjuiced body responded in a very familiar way. 

Her lips were everywhere on his neck as his eyes rolled back into his head. This was divine. Exquisite. Their magic was swirling inside of them just like before. 

His hands reached up to run his fingers through her hair.

Deep brown eyes were staring at him with need as she moved her lips back onto his as he lifted his hand to her neck. Draco was in heaven with this turn of events. 

He felt her everywhere as his body seemed to take on a mind of its own. He was floating now. His hands gripped firmly onto her hips as he pulled her deeper down onto him. His moan echoed into her mouth. 

He opened his eyes as he gazed at her in wonder. 

‘Oh, Salazar. You’re so decisive. You know exactly what you want. I like that.’ 

Nails grazed his neck as Hermione ran her other hand through his hair.

Draco preened as pleasant shivers shot down his back. ‘That feels so good. Kiss me.’ 

‘Oh, Draco,‘ Hermione murmured into his ear which sent goosebumps through him. 

For some time those deep kisses were all that existed to either of them. 

His hands were in her hair as he felt his entire being vibrate. 

Hermione moved away to start scattering kisses over his jaw and cheek. 

Draco felt his heart flip as she moved further down and he felt her warm lips on his neck.  

‘Do you have any idea what you do to me?’ Draco murmured as he sunk into bliss. 

Hermione looked down at him with a wicked smirk. 'I can feel what I'm doing to you.'

The mischief in her voice was so tantalising he actually shocked himself by trembling in need. 

Draco reached around and pulled her closer to him. 

Brown eyes stared into his with a fervour that shook him to his core. 

‘Let us make the most of this,’ Hermione said breathlessly as she moved round to kiss him again on the lips.

Draco felt like he’d just jumped into the air. 

Nothing else mattered. Everything he wanted was in his arms right now. 

Words were no longer necessary. 

Hermione was feeling absolute euphoria. She was back in her own body and she simply needed to feel. The feel of Draco was addictive to her. 

Draco was looking up at her with such fascination it made her head spin. 

This pull was otherworldly. She could feel it undulating throughout her. She needed much more from him.

Was this the Vortex? Was it simply coming from them? His kisses were so sweet. Her mind was tingling.  

She gazed at him as her hands moved under his shirt and her nails grazed down his body. 

Another rather loud moan came from Draco at her ministrations. 

He took her hand and rested it on his heart. 

'This is what being with you does to me,' Draco told her with sincerity. 

She could feel the quickening pace of it. It was thumping as hard as her own was. 

She looked down into his darkened grey eyes. Every single part of her was crying out to take this further. 

She could feel him beneath her. Her body was aching for this. 

Draco’s hands began to slowly stroke the back of her legs as she sunk into him. So many more kisses followed. She had never felt such pure pleasure. 

Slowly she undid the buttons on his shirt as his breath hitched. He slid off his suit and shirt as she gazed at him with darkened eyes. 

His hands moved back around her and then began to travel further up until they were under her dress. 

Sparks were flying around them. She could feel how hot Draco already was. 

She could feel his hardness. 

His fingers were nimble as they began to move further up her thighs, caressing her skin.  

This was so much better than her faint dreams had been. Draco was looking at her with a dazed expression.  

It was the expression of a man who had just won the lottery and couldn’t believe his good luck. 

She stared into grey eyes and then felt her gaze wander down to his belt buckle. 

His hands were moving further up the back of her thighs. She felt his fingers sliding her dress up further as she quivered with anticipation. 

A sharp feeling of bliss ran through her as her head snapped back. Her eyes opened wide with the sensation when they suddenly settled on a photograph that loomed very large in front of her. 

It was of her parents when they were young.

Now, Hermione wasn't a holier than thou character. She certainly didn't hold with the opinion that one must save themselves for marriage. She had a methodical, practical approach to life which included the attitude that it was always wise to try before you buy. No one wanted any nasty surprises on their honeymoon. 

However, the sight of her parents rammed home a very pertinent point that she knew she needed to acknowledge.

What she and Draco were experiencing together wasn't simply a fling. It was much more potent than that. Both her parents and his had started their lives out together knowing for certain what they shared with each other. Her eyes found Draco's. Was he her future? Was this real? What if it wasn't? Hermione felt a cold chill at that thought. 

Draco seemed so sure. She needed to get to where he was. She needed the faith in this that he had. Her feelings for him had changed so much in such a short space of time. It was maddening to her that she had these doubts, but she needed to be true to herself. 

She eased herself off Draco and settled back on the bed as Draco blinked at her as stars in his eyes seemed to flitter.

'Did I do something wrong?' he asked her quietly. 

'No. On the contrary. You were doing everything right. That's the problem,' Hermione answered him darkly. 

Draco looked confused for a moment. 

'I want to go further with you. Judging from your rather obvious reactions to me I'd say this is mutual.' 

Draco nodded his agreement cautiously. 

Hermione turned to him and looked at him so mournfully that Draco was immediately very concerned. 

'What's the matter?' Draco asked. 

‘We don’t know if this is real. What if this is all just mind manipulations?’ Hermione asked flatly. 

‘I know this is real,’ Draco said with a firmness that surprised her. 

Hermione gazed at him. 'My mind is telling me to trust this too. Your body is feeling things that I've not known possible though. I don't know how much of it is you and how much is me. I don't know if this is the Vortex,' she told him. 

He watched her gaze at him for the longest time. 

'Seeing you now. This is all starting to turn into something more between us. I don't want us to get our hopes up and find out in the end that all this has just been an illusion. There is too much at stake. Consider your parents. Think about that. Think about what you're risking. If they turn their backs on you, and this isn't real, you're going to get very bitter with me. I do care about you. I know how much they mean to you.'

Draco watched her closely. 'The Vortex is for good. It sent us here for a reason. It wants us to stop Tom. It did what it did to Harry for a very specific reason. I don't think it's messing with our minds. Our bodies, yes, but no more than that. This is coming from us. If anything you and I were under an illusion before. We'd known each other for years but we never actually saw each other. Not properly.' 

Hermione nodded hopefully at him. 

'I do want to pursue this. I need to know what all this means. I'm just concerned what's happening to us is what happened to Harry,' she told him. 

Draco spoke cautiously. 'Harry was different to us. He needed his memories back. The Vortex needed to sever the connection he had to Tom. What we're going through together is unique. Harry said he spent that time incredibly confused. I'm not confused. Not anymore. My parents are, well, I'll cross that bridge when I have to.'

Hermione gave him a soft smile. 

‘We don’t need to go any further if you have doubts, but I won’t lie to you. I certainly want to. What we're feeling for each other is so rare,’ Draco told her with certainty. 

‘We can’t be sure,’  Hermione voiced her insecurity out loud. 

‘Hermione. I know you like to run through every variable at a million different angles but sometimes in life, you have to take a leap of faith. I'm sure this is coming from us,’ Draco said. 

She felt a rush at this definite statement from him. 

'I think we should slow this down a little. This is moving too fast. I need to know what I'm feeling for you is genuine. I think it is. My mind is almost sure.' 

Draco let these very precise words sink in. He gave her a warm smile. 

'I understand.' 

There was a long silence as Draco sat there and examined her face. He let his body cool down as he really studied her.

Hermione looked rather upset. 

Draco pondered her woeful face. She certainly wasn't stopping this because she wanted to.

'If you have doubts then we stop. So much has happened to both of us. I don't want you to do anything if even a small part of you thinks you might regret it,' Draco told her simply. 

Hermione looked at his concerned face for a long time. She eventually smiled at him and ran her fingers down his cheek. 

'If I only knew for definite...'  she trailed off. 

'It's ok. When you're ready and this does happen it will be more than worth waiting for.' 

Hermione gave him a brittle smile. 'I'm feeling it too. It's genuinely overwhelming.'  

Draco watched her solemn face for a moment as his lips began to curl up into a smile. 'I would just like to clarify one thing. You, Miss Granger, actually want me to spend the entire night in your bed?'  

Hermione returned his playful look with a very rueful expression. 

'It certainly appears that way,' she said with a droll tone.

He responded with a rather appreciative look towards her.

'Hermione. Being this close to you has been incredible for me. I think you felt that for certain.'

Hermione deigned to give him a small smirk. 

'I can wait. I got a preview and the reviews are in. That was marvellous.'

Hermione blushed but returned his broad smile. 

'We'll take this each day as it comes. When you're ready you'll tell me. I already know that.'  

Hermione gave him a slight smile and a coy nod as he leaned back and spread his arms out on the bed. 

'Can we just cuddle instead?' he asked her quietly. 'I'd like that. We can settle ourselves down.' 

She nodded with relief he was being so understanding about this as she slipped under the crook of his neck slowly and draped her arm over him and gave him a hug. 

Both of them felt a peace go through them at this most subtle of contacts. 

The music playing in the background soothed both of them. 

'This is nice,' Draco said in his soft drawl.

'There's no need to be sarcastic,' Hermione said dryly. 'I know this night has taken a downturn for the worst.' 

'I wasn't being sarcastic,' Draco told her honestly. 'I like holding you. It's great being bigger and taller than you again. It makes me feel all manly and protective.' 

He heard Hermione chuckle at that as he grinned. 

'There was no downturn either, Hermione. At all. You're still here with me. You're being honest with me. This is how I know we're getting closer to each other.' 

'You're sounding like me. I'm the one who likes the cuddles and talking,' Hermione said with a light tone that was tinged with some incredulity. 

Draco gave her a light squeeze. 'I can see why Harry likes your cuddles so much. They're very comforting. It's not an emotion I'm very familiar with,' he told her. 

She remained silent as she absorbed this. 

Draco stroked her hair as Hermione felt her body unwind.

Draco gave her a gentle squeeze. 'Better?' he asked.

Her fingers were idly stroking his arm. 

'Much, thanks,' she replied in an easy tone. 'You?' 

Draco smiled at her. 'I'm lying on a bed with someone I'm starting to care very much about. I've been having a brilliant night since the moment I stepped into this room.' 

Hermione felt a myriad of emotions go through her at that. 

'Me too,' she murmured eventually. 

Draco squeezed her a little tighter at that. 

'I still want that dance,' he whispered. 

Hermione felt a shiver of anticipation as she leant towards him and kissed his cheek. She held the kiss for a beat before backing away. 

That tender kiss affected Draco more than the passionate ones had. He felt it curl all around his body and encase him in a warm glow. 

He touched his cheek gently as his heart flipped a beat. 

They did share that dance and several more with each other as that memorable night carried on.

As Hermione leant into him, she felt a feeling of inner peace. Something about his arms wrapped around her felt right. Draco's presence made her feel whole. She gave a silent prayer that this wasn't just magic.

Draco had, all by himself, managed to turn himself into the man she'd been looking for.

He respected her. He considered her. He made her feel very warm in all the right places. 

Draco ran his hands through her hair. It was an action he felt very soothing. They were both making the most of the polyjuice. By dawn, this would be over. There was still more of it left which gave him a huge thrill. He could spend more nights with her in their true selves. 

They needed to be careful they didn't get carried away with it. Snape was providing them with plenty of the ingredients. Excessive use of the potion could lead to long term damage. 

He could already spy another cauldron in the corner that was being prepared for more brewing. They had sufficient amounts of polyjuice left for at least a month of sensible use but he knew Hermione liked to be organised. 

Later that evening he would move her around their makeshift dancefloor as they did a very slow waltz with each other. Despite all the worry that their present circumstances were offering, he had never felt so happy in all his life. 

That Hermione had slowed down their pull to each other didn't matter to him. Draco held her closer. She was using that big brain of hers to truly work this mystery out. She was taking him seriously. Hermione was looking at the big picture. Draco smiled at that thought. She was thinking of their future. 

She'd already been so much more than he had hoped for. Draco ran his hands down her back as he felt her body against his.  

Draco leant down and kissed her cheek softly. 

Hermione needed them both to be sure about each other. 

He lifted her lips to his and kissed her again. This longing for her was only increasing. That she responded to him so eagerly was doing wonders for his ego. 

Hermione felt her heart flutter as she felt his full lips against hers. His hands were around her waist. The deeper these kisses went, the lower his hands moved. She felt his fingers slide under her dress again as she felt his touch against her thighs.  This was sublime. She liked how confident he felt now that he knew how much she wanted this closeness with him. He knew now he could touch her intimately. Her contented sighs into his mouth told him how much she enjoyed his attention. 

She knew Draco wouldn't push her until he was sure she was ready. She let his hands explore her body with a tranquil thrill at his ministrations. Her own fingers ran down his chest as she ran her nails in little circles into his skin.

This was intimacy.

His grey eyes crinkled up at the sides as he ran his hands teasingly over her skin. 

'It's so much nicer touching you when I'm me,' he told her in a low voice. 

'I certainly agree,' she told him quietly. 

They both swayed gently to the music. 

It was a long time before they eventually went to bed. 

Chapter Text

They had been restored to their other-selves by the early hours of the morning. 

Draco had used the invisibility cloak to return to his room as dawn had broken and their bodies had changed back. He had looked at her with a sort of glazed but happy look as he left her. 

Last night had been much needed for a multitude of reasons.

Their focus on who they truly were had been restored. Days had passed since they'd been in their own bodies.

The first thing Hermione's eyes saw when she woke up was the blue dress hanging up as she smiled to herself. 

She was still her. Inside. She thought of Draco as her eyes softened. His kisses were so scrumptious. She felt herself feel cosy at the thought of how well he’d handled her hesitation. 

She thought back to his response. 

He’d shown maturity. He’d understood. She thought again of how close they had danced that night. She could still feel his hands on her skin. 

It left her feeling another soft ache. 

Her eyes glanced at the polyjuice. In another two weeks, they could use it again. Perhaps they would be a little further along with solving this. Why did the Vortex want them in each other’s bodies?

Hermione bit her lip as she thought of how Draco had felt against her.  She looked down at his body. With a slow movement, she ran her fingers down her chest. 

She was so close to him. This was the man she desired. She knew that for certain now. 

Her grey eyes lingered at his body. Mind manipulations could only do so much. What if this was magic? With a pale hand, she reached down to touch him. 

She’d felt him last night. She closed her eyes as she thought of how close they had been. 

If they crossed that line with each other they could never go back.

Would she even want to go back?

She wanted his body wrapped around her. His kisses on her neck. All over her body. She wanted to hear his voice. 

She dressed a while later and stared at him. This man wanted her. He had grown to care for her. If last night had proved anything it was that she could trust him. 

Last night they had both turned a corner with each other. A relationship was more than just physical. Illusions could only do so much. 

She was almost sure she was ready to give herself to him. She felt a thrill at that. 

She glanced at the bed where they had shared so much with each other. 

It had been moving so fast so quickly. She was content with her choice. It had enabled her to see another aspect of his character that she rated very highly. He would never push her to do something she was uncomfortable with. 

This gave Draco many gold stars in her book. 

She grinned to herself as she recalled their very close dancing. As far as Draco was concerned it was starting to look like she was very comfortable with him in many different ways. 

Her vivid imagination pictured them on the bed together. Her pulse quickened in anticipation. 

The more virile side of her wanted to see where this led.  

Hermione pictured their bodies merging into one as her eyes went heavy. 

Their magic would be swirling as they lost themselves in each other. 

She looked down at Draco's body with a smile. 

His body was so familiar to her now in more ways than one. 

She made her way through Hogwarts with the casual saunter that Draco was so renowned for. She would never quite get used to the wide array of looks he seemed to acquire. 

How people respond to you tells you a lot about a person. Furtive looks of annoyance, jealousy and fear were a normal part of her day now. 

It emphasised to her just how much Draco had changed in such a short space of time. How much he had endured and witnessed had matured him. He had lived through a lifetime of angst in the war. They all had.

He was on her side now.

In time she knew these expressions towards Draco would change. 

It was deeply bizarre that it had taken a war to actually improve him as a person. He would always have that hard streak in him but Hermione had seen enough in the Wizarding World to know that was an essential trait if one were to thrive in it.

She knew what she was capable of when her back was against the wall too. 

She thought of his eyes and the light they had in them now.

She noticed a younger student scuttling away from her and leaping into a doorway as she walked by. 

These were just some of the emotions Draco used to inflict on the other students. When he had been the proverbial big fish in a small pond. Then he had met the Dark Lord face to face and with time realised he was just another little pawn on Riddle's filthy chessboard.

Draco had changed so much because of it. She barely recognised him now. She wondered how much of his growth was due to her. Her body must be affecting him. She knew he got emotional at times. She was more used to the hormone fluctuations than him and had different coping mechanisms. 

She gave a start at that fact. She’d been in Draco’s body for days now and except for her urge to occasionally break something and her increased libido, the core of her character hadn’t actually changed. 

She felt his unicorn hair wand in her fingers as a feeling of peace went through her.

This was who Draco actually was under all of it.

He was now first and foremost her friend and he actually cared about her. 

Draco had spent that morning with a feeling of completeness. His mind had wandered back over his life and the path he had trodden to get to this point. For the first time in years he knew with unerring certainty he was exactly where he needed to be. 

Nothing in his world seemed like it had. Everything had changed for him. He felt it in his blood. He felt it all around him. His world looked so much brighter and it was all because of her. She was the one. He knew that now instinctively. 

All he had learnt in his life, all the good and the bad had been leading up to this. He belonged with her. His mind knew it. His body certainly knew it. The time they had spent together getting closer had only cemented his feelings.

He thought of Pansy. He had never been sure. He had been lacking the conviction he felt for Hermione. 

Yes, they were up against it, but he knew now what he was fighting for. He was fighting for their future, he was fighting for her. 

He couldn’t change the past. He had his regrets but he had the rest of his life to make up for them. He wanted to make up for them. They had spoken about the past. She understood. She had seen for herself what his life was. She had felt what he had felt. He knew she had seen his influences. She had seen firsthand who he really was.

He knew her too. He has seen all sides of her life. All those things that had happened to her made her the person she was today. She was brave and ambitious. She was determined. They were traits that he admired greatly. He had seen her at her best and her worst.

She could be kind too. She had a gentle side to her which he was very drawn to. It was a quality that he knew was greatly underrated. Draco had seen what Death Eaters did. He needed her humanity in his future. 

He had seen what he had made her feel too. He had witnessed the ugly words he had snarled at her. Words that he had heard all his life. He’d hurt her. She’d given him as good as she had got in return. She’d always seen behind the false mask. 

He gulped. She had praised him for being strong enough to turn his back on Tom. She had stayed with him all night. She had wanted him to stay with her. She wanted to make sure they could have a real future together. 

He was seeing a glimpse into his potential life that he was already wanting to run towards. 

He took a moment in the bathroom to wipe his tears away as he considered all they were living through.

Oh, Salazar. He really needed to get a grip on his fragile emotions. Hermione hadn’t spent all her time weeping.  

His thoughts turned to his old world. He remembered all the lies they had put in his head as a boy. All those lies they had repeated to him just like their parents had to them. If not for this body swap he would never have gotten this close to Hermione. He would have never felt this. He would have lived his life without knowing this was possible.

It would have been a half-life. 

He knew he needed to break the circle for all of their sakes. These lies about the muggleborns had to stop. Their world couldn't carry on like this. They owed it to their children and grandchildren to stop the rot. It wasn't helping anyone and it was only depriving people of true happiness.  

Hermione had taken her usual spot in the library with Draco as they continued to build up the profiles and the histories of the muggleborns they were due to interview. 

Draco kept giving her small smiles as Hermione gave him knowing looks.

The Muffliato charms were up and the sneakoscope sat silently. 

They had reached the point where they were capable of existing in comfortable silence with each other. 

She felt his hand on her knee as a lovely little jolt went through her. With a cheeky grin, she reached down and squeezed his knee in return. 

She watched his lips curl up in amusement.

‘I say, Miss Granger,’ he drawled. 

‘Mr Malfoy,’ she said teasingly. 

They’d been no discomfort with each other. After being in each other's bodies such things ceased to matter. 

‘You’ve been busy,’ Hermione observed. 

There was a chunk of parchment on the table perched on top of a folder next to him. 

‘I’ve made a start. Dumbledore has lent me some books. There is plenty in here already about the people we’re interviewing,’ Draco told her. ‘I’ve made a start on putting together some relevant questions for them related to their lives.’ 

Draco passed her the relevant paperwork as her eyes ran down the questions with interest.

‘They're good. They're leading. We should get some rather personal answers,' she told him when she had finished reading them.  

‘It’s important for the Wizarding World to get a true picture of muggleborns. Their lives. Their families. Their hopes and dreams. I don’t think some of them actually understand how accomplished so many of them have been or are either.’ 

Hermione stared at him steadily. 

Draco looked at her with a small smile. ‘We’re all a part of this world. It’s about time a lot of people made peace with that.’ 

Hermione took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze and then kept it there. 

‘Can I take these profiles to look through tonight?’ she asked. ‘I’ll think I've got a few ideas to add to the questions.’ 

Draco nodded at her in a distracted way. His eyes were focused on that pale hand on his. 

She recognised that look in his eyes easily now.

He was genuinely happy to be sitting with her. 

‘I’m really enjoying all of this research,’ Draco told her. ‘I’ve learnt so much about them all.'

Hermione watched as she pulled out some photographs from the pile. 

'These are the people we'll be meeting. This is Greta Malone. She was the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain that won the House cup back in 1978. Now she works in the Department for Magical sport and games.'

Hermione looked with interest at the curly-haired woman. 

'Samuel Duke's father is a rock star in the Muggle world. Here,’ Draco said as he flicked through the pile and brought out some photos. 

Hermione looked down at a man in leather singing to thousands of people in a stadium. 

‘There’s Samuel playing bass with his dad. They've had number one albums all around the world. That’s when Samuel isn’t working in the Transportation Department. He’s considered one of the world's greatest bass players.’

‘He's playing at Wembley. I'm sure of it,’ Hermione looked at the photograph in astonishment. Thousands of people were rocking out to them. 

‘He’s epic,’ Draco smiled. ‘This is Matt Docherty who's a brilliant healer. He invented several potions back in the sixties. He works now in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes but he still spends a lot of time at Saint Mungoes helping out in his spare time.’ 

Hermione was looking at these photographs with great interest. 

‘This man is Benjamin Peakes,’ Draco said with a respectful tone. ‘He’s regarded as one of the best Aurors we've ever had.’ 

Hermione smiled at Draco’s enthusiasm. 

‘And finally, I saved the best till last.’ 

Hermione looked at Draco’s flushed face with interest. 

He pushed a photograph of a very distinguished-looking woman in front of Hermione. 

‘Martina Stone,’ Draco said with great reverence. ‘She is regarded as the most elusive fashion designer in the world. No one can pin her down. She is so mysterious. She rarely makes a public appearance and she always wears sunglasses when she does. I would have never known she was a muggleborn witch if Dumbledore hadn’t provided me with this.'

Hermione peered at the woman. She certainly looked very stylish. 

'She likes her anonymity in the muggle world but she’s shown an interest in going public in the Wizarding World. I never knew that her day job is working for the International Magical Cooperation. She travels all around the world doing both. She is the pinnacle of fashion. Even the Queen was put on a waiting list for one of her dresses. She is in demand by the best of the best.’ 

Hermione smiled at his enthusiasm. 

Draco grinned. 'What books are you to you, fashion is to me.’ 

‘Don’t I know it,’ Hermione smiled at his enthusiasm. 

‘I can’t wait to meet her. Oh, mother is going to be so jealous.’ 

Hermione cracked up at his beaming face. 

They stayed chatting a little more then Hermione prepared to leave him. Harry and Draco were going to be spending some time walking around the castle as Harry and Hermione to keep the illusion up that everything was completely normal. 

Neither Draco nor Harry commented too much about the time they spent together but Hermione sensed they were getting along. Neither of them had complained about the other at least. She hoped it would last. 

She picked up the stack of parchment and the folder and left Draco when she saw Harry coming towards them. 

Draco watched her leave with a soft expression on his face.

He hadn't noticed she'd picked up his folder too. 

Hermione made her way back to her room with a spring in her step. She was looking forward to advancing their project along. 

She tightened the invisibility cloak around herself. So far they didn’t think they’d been spotted. The seventh floor was out the way and they were very careful with their trips. 

They could both do a Disillusionment charm if they didn’t have the cloak for whatever reason. They sometimes swapped it over depending on their circumstances. 

Hermione considered their future itinerary. They had the trip to the Ministry to look forward to. 

There would also be the other outing to Diagon Alley.

Draco had managed to persuade Colin to loan him his camera for later in the month to take photographs of the muggleborn built properties in Diagon Alley. 

She smiled to herself as she thought of these plans. She then locked the door and plonked the parchment down on the table and set the folder to one side and settled herself in for a night of light reading.

Draco had made a great start with the questions. 

She made her way through the loose papers and wrote some ideas down. 

Once she was through that she opened up the folder hoping to find more research that Draco had found about the muggleborns they were soon to speak to. He had already found plenty. 

She took the pile out as she began to sort through the parchment she found.   

Hermione’s fingers flicked through as she made her way down the pile. She was seeing paperwork on potions and charms. She realised she must have picked this folder up by mistake. She'd return it to him in the morning. He'd told her he was up to date with his work. If it was that important to him he knew where she was.

She rather hoped he'd come around anyway.

She began to put it all back when her eyes caught a glimpse of a handwritten note staring up at her. Her eyes lingered on the familiar slope of Draco’s handwriting as her eyes saw the first line that galvanised her curiosity.  

She then proceeded to read down the parchment as her eyes began to widen at what she reading.  

I was taught to hate you, I was taught to believe,

that I should hate your muggle ways, that you should make me seethe.

I hate the way I treated you, I hate that I made you feel blue.

I hate this prison we’re both in.

It's caused us both so much chagrin.

I wish that I could change the past.

You are not now, nor then, or ever will be an outcast.

I wish I'd not been raised with false pride.

You've always shown me just how much they lied.

Should I face my family's condemnation and my fortune and Manor is to be doomed to cessation.

I’d rather endure their eternal damnation than be denied a lifetime of elation.

The infinite joy I would derive to be able to categorically state to all those alive,

that Hermione Granger is and always will be mine.

My Love

Hermione couldn’t move. Her eyes were frozen on that piece of paper as her eyes pierced those words. 

A huge gulp formed in her throat as the most enormous sob emerged from her mouth. 

It was scrappy. Draco was no poet, but the genuine sentiment that lifted off the page had her trembling. 

Hermione Granger had read millions of words in her life. Endless books. Endless reports and essays had been consumed by her, but nothing she had ever read felt more like gold to her than this solitary piece of paper with Draco’s scribbles on it. 

All that existed at that moment that stretched on endlessly was that Draco had written this about her. For her. 

He was in love with her. 

Actual, real, wanted to put a ring on it, love. 

Hermione took a steadying breath. 

'Choose your wife carefully, Draco. She has the potential to make or break you.’ 

Lucius’s voice echoed in her ear. 

'Mother said I should never marry a woman who is jealous or selfish.'

Draco’s voice travelled in her mind. 

'Marriage is for life in the Wizarding World.’ 

'What we’re feeling for each other is so rare.’ 

Draco had said that to her on the bed in their polyjuiced forms. 

She had known on some level he had become very fond of her, but this was unprecedented. 

Draco took marriage more seriously than anyone she had ever known in her life.   

That it was her that he wanted to spend his life with was shaking her to her core. 

That he was prepared to walk away from his parents for her was making her short of breath. Not to mention walking away from all that luxury and money. 

Hermione was always practical and this gesture spoke volumes to her.

Draco was prepared to turn his back on his family fortune for her.

It wasn’t as if her own family were living on skid row, but even so. 

Nothing shouted his sincerity towards her more than this did. 

Draco Malfoy was in love with her. 

These words were from the heart. 

She needed to take a leap of faith too. Her logical mind had to stop overthinking this.

They still knew their own minds. She was still her inside. 

So was Draco. 

This was real. The Vortex was for good. Tricking them both in this way would be cruel and the Vortex wasn't cruel. 

As she looked at those words again her whole being felt such a rush of exhilaration. She was loved by him.

Without any doubt, what did she feel for him? 

She thought of his grey eyes and his comforting presence.  

She considered the worry she felt for him and the constant pull she was experiencing. 

If it wasn't the Vortex then it could only be one other thing. 

This was all coming from her.

She was feeling love for him too. 

Hermione had rarely become completely overcome in her life but this had pushed her over the edge.

She promptly fainted on her bed. 

Chapter Text

Note. 

Voldemort and his Death Eaters will now start to feature more heavily in this story.

There will now be some darker themes for obvious reasons.  

The Dark Lord was in the Malfoy dungeons indulging his cruelty.  

His mind was focusing on his plans and any threats to his rise to complete domination of the country. Ten words went in a loop in his mind.

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.

Vanquish. That one word haunted him. 

Lucius may have failed to acquire the entire prophecy but Tom knew enough of it to be obsessed by it. He had seen the Potter boy grow. He had seen him survive trials that should have killed him. Tom gazed down at another faceless man writhing in agony on the floor at his hand.

He twisted his wand. 

‘Crucio,’ he whispered with a content sigh.

The man screamed as Tom felt ripples of pleasure roll inside of him. 

Torture always focused him.

The power to vanquish. Potter had helpers. Guides. They had all played their part in keeping him alive. Even so, the boy’s luck had been too consistent. Tom had to face the fact that there were other forces at play from the light side. 

He checked his connection to Potter. 

It was all in order. The mudblood bitch with the bushy hair was nagging him about some book. The blood traitor seemed to be in a strop about something. 

He’d been checking in often. Lucius's spawn was beginning to look a little edgy but it was clear he was working hard.

Tom had his doubts about Draco. He had sensed the traces of light magic that was still immersed inside of him. He had seen inside his mind. Draco had been worried for his parents but proud to take the Dark Mark. Tom narrowed his red eyes. Time would tell. Draco had to be truly tested. 

He suspected that Snape would be the one to finish this particular mission.

Lucius and Narcissa were worried sick for their son. Tom gave a spiteful smile at the discomfort.

The Malfoy's were steadily sliding down his approval ratings. 

Draco was resourceful and Tom did have faith he would find a way to give his followers entry to the castle. He had his parents' lives to consider. It was a very powerful incentive. 

If Draco was to eventually fail in killing Dumbledore he would be a figure of fun amongst the Death Eaters. He would be utterly humiliated. That would also be another punishment to Lucius for his failure in retrieving the prophecy. The Malfoy’s were starting to irritate him. Narcissa was difficult to read but Tom knew her stony features hid a great deal. She would also need to be watched carefully. Only her son and husband seemed to elicit any emotion from the ice-cold blonde.

He still didn’t know the full prophecy, which caused him an annoying niggling in the back of his mind. He couldn’t pull it from Potter’s mind. Something was blocking him. Tom suspected Dumbledore’s interference. 

He needed to tread very carefully. 

When he had discovered Lucius’s idiocy regarding the Horcrux diary that had been the final straw. Lucius would be not long for this world. Lucius had admitted he had planted the diary on Ginny Weasley. He had wanted to cause trouble at Hogwarts and have Dumbledore removed from his position. There had been Basilisk attacks. Tom didn't know what had become of his Horcrux. All he knew was that the Basilisk attacks had stopped and there had been no more mention of it. The plan hadn't worked. Dumbledore was still the Headmaster.

How much more did Dumbledore know? Tom was uncomfortable with Slughorn teaching at Hogwarts. He was the only wizard on the planet who would know for certain of his interest in Horcruxes. So far Slughorn was keeping his mouth shut. Tom mused that his shame at admitting to anyone he had discussed such a foul subject with a student should keep him quiet.

Tom's thin lips narrowed even further. He had his master plan if Dumbledore discovered his Horcruxes. 

He felt the weight of the time turner in his pocket. He had time to adapt it to extend its usefulness. 

His Horcruxes were safe and sound. He had checked them all. They spoke to him in that unique way they did. 

If he got even an inkling that Potter was aware of them or that Dumbledore was tampering with them he would replace them with replicas. He grinned in satisfaction. He was so smart. No one could outmanoeuvre him. Not even Dumbledore. 

The Age of Voldemort was imminent. Tom felt a wave of satisfaction. He’d thought of everything.

He would let Dumbledore and Potter follow the crumbs. He in turn would sabotage them from behind the scenes. When the time was right, it would be he that would turn the tables. 

He imagined the beauty of massacring the light side. He’d keep some of the younger ones alive. His Death Eaters deserved some of the spoils of war. Any defiant witches and wizards would be sent to Azkaban for re-education. Tom gloated. His followers would be free to use any means to train them.

Those that failed to submit to their Dark Lord would join the mudbloods. 

His face twisted into a grotesque smile as he thought of the fate he had planned for those misfortunates. 

The filth of the WIzarding World would be treated like the cheap trash they truly were. 

His eerie little giggle sounded around the dungeon.

Tom glowered down on the ground as the man's eyes rolled into the back of his head. 

He was a very precise man. He had considered every variable. He had planned for the worst-case scenario based on that blasted prophecy.  

Tom turned back to the tortured man in front of him who was twitching. He'd bitten off his own tongue. 

‘Avada kedavra,’ he spat. 

The man went limp. 

Tom looked down as a wave of cathartic bliss rushed through him. The act of murder never ceased to thrill him.

The power to vanquish.

Tom had accounted for everything. He knew not to underestimate Dumbledore and had prepared for every eventuality.

He would observe from a distance as Potter followed any crumbs he found. He would sabotage him from the shadows. 

He was the greatest wizard that had ever lived. He was immortal. Strong. 

No one could surpass him. He wouldn’t allow it. 

Tom felt no remorse for his actions. People meant no more to him than pebbles on a beach. They were simply bodies to use for his various proclivities and then to be discarded once he was finished with them. 

He had ambitious plans for the future. Soon, his homeland would not be enough for him. He had eternity to rise further than any man ever had. In time his self given title of Lord would not be enough. 

In a hundred years he would be worshipped as an Emperor. A king of Kings. All would bow to him. All would revere him. All would obey him. He would be the greatest. 

His paranoia was constant with one niggling thought. The power to vanquish. Those words had echoed in his mind for years.

What if Potter again vanquished him?

He had reduced him to wraith form once before, even with his Horcruxes. 

All he had built would again come crumbling down. 

He would be reduced to a cowering, pathetic entity for a second time. 

His Horcruxes would save him if that happened.

Pettigrew had very few uses but he could be trusted to restore him again if the worst happened. 

He would come back. 

Potter was a known threat but he had the connection into his mind. He had the time turner. He was the superior wizard. Dumbledore was a concern. If Draco failed then Snape had the opportunity to prove himself loyal to him. 

The time turner sat in his pocket. He was confident in his own abilities to elevate its power.

He preened at his own intelligence. 

He was delicately positioned at this moment in time. His followers had infiltrated the Ministry in their dozens. He was the puppeteer now. Scrimgeour was a strong man, but he would crumble without the full might of the Wizarding World to assist him. His followers already controlled the majority of the power. Those on the light side were being picked off slowly. They were going missing. They were being murdered. Many were already under the Imperius charm. 

Very few at the Ministry would stand against his followers when the order to invade was given.

The Order of the Phoenix made up only a tiny fraction of the population. Most of the Ministry workers were pen pushers. They were weak. Fragile. They weren’t warriors. 

Tom's finger wrapped around the time turner as a hiss of pleasure left his lips. 

He left the body of the faceless man on the floor and returned upstairs. 

Hermione came to with a start. Her eyes immediately found the poem that Draco had written for her.

She was still in a state of shock at the revelations she had read. 

As messy as her life was, this was certainly a wonderful moment in it. 

She read through it once again and memorised it. There was so much positivity in these words devoted to her. So much hope and conviction. 

It was perfect. She put all the parchment she found back into his folder and shut it. 

Now what? 

She wondered if he meant for her to see this. He had been a little distracted in the library. Hermione pondered this. Perhaps he hadn’t intended for her to read it, but on a subconscious level, maybe he had wanted her to see the inner workings of his mind. 

They were intense words. They were life-changing words. She thought again of the grey-eyed blond. 

Could this be possible? Would they actually be able to make a future together? 

Her logical mind considered this and went into overdrive. This was more than just a crush. 

She tested the potential future out on her tongue. Hermione Granger Malfoy. 

She would be keeping her surname, regardless of whoever she married. She was absolute about that.

Her mind flickered through the variables. 

She imagined a world in which Tom was defeated. Life would go on. His parents may or may not come around to the idea. Going in her favour was the dark future that they were fighting to prevent. Once the Malfoy's knew for certain what Draco and she had prevented they would surely warm to them. 

She considered Lucius. Maybe not. 

If they knew she had helped prevent their downfall they might not go too mental about this all. 

She doubted they would ever be happy about it but if they could accept it that would help enormously. She accepted there would be inevitable issues with marrying into such a troublesome family. There would be repercussions. Draco was both a Black and a Malfoy. There would be no in-laws meeting with each other. Her parents wouldn't be sitting down for tea with his parents. Draco would be ostracised by many of the society set. She thought of Pansy. 

She was curious to see what her reaction would be if they ever did tread this path. She had been very decent to Draco about her assumptions about his sexuality but this was not going to be received well. Pansy disliked her immensely.   

For now, she needed to only focus on where they both were right now. They were both in a heightened state. Danger loomed in the future. 

She could trust what she was feeling for him. That was her priority.

She certainly wanted to take their relationship further. This raised a pertinent point. Hermione was always prepared. Which one of them needed to use the birth control spell? On the surface, it would appear to be Draco. He was her inside. Although, now she considered it, what was the situation with polyjuice in those regards? She was Draco deep inside. Polyjuice only affected the outside of them. Would the spell even work on them? Could either of them even get pregnant?

She stared into space and tried to twist her mind around the logistics of her thoughts regarding protection. She gave up after five minutes. She was a borderline genius and even she didn't have the first clue about how any of it would work. 

Her body had reacted wonderfully to him. Draco did bring out her more insatiable nature. It was only a matter of time. She’d not felt this sort of craving for Ron. Their kiss at the Battle had been fuelled by adrenalin. With Viktor, he had been her first romance. He’d been very careful to not push her. It had been a sweet time in her life. 

Hermione had worked out years ago, that as wonderful as magic could be a lot of the time when one was in doubt, it was best to go muggle. They would be visiting London soon. She'd make a discreet stop at a pharmacy. She gave herself a subtle grin. She even knew the size she needed.

The last thing they needed at this point was a baby on the way. Fighting Riddle with either of them heavily pregnant would be a calamity. Morning sickness and prenatal care would need to be factored into their mission plan. Hermione gazed into space as she imagined trying to juggle those issues. She pictured herself heavily pregnant as she ran through the Ministry shooting stunners at Death Eaters as her waters decided to break in the atrium. 

She shook her head clear of that worrying image. They would be sensible. Neither of them would get pregnant. 

With that particular issue dealt with, she then put that quandary to the back of her mind. 

She thought again of the poem. Physical attraction was one thing. She could have understood Draco writing her a sexy poem if that was the case.

Those words she had read went way beyond that.

The Vortex could have affected their bodies and attraction like it did Harry, but not to that extent. 

They still had free will. 

Draco was waiting for her to let go of her doubts. He’d gone so far as to write these words down. Words that he intended to speak to her for real someday. 

She wrapped his arms around her tightly for comfort.

Her hands ran down his body with anticipation of the time he would be himself for real.

He would be here, in this room, with just her, for the whole night.

Hopefully, it would be the start of many nights. 

She knew they needed to explore this. Draco was right. To feel this was rare. 

A familiar light knock came at the door. It was his knock. 

With a fluttering heart, she opened it to see herself standing there looking a little too like she was trying to look placid. 

‘Hi. Sorry to disturb you but I think you took my folder by mistake,’ Draco said to her in a very easy-going way. 

She felt an enormous rush of affection for him that must have shown on her face as he seemed to stare back at her with the same longing expression. 

Harry cleared his throat as she suddenly noticed him standing slightly behind Draco. 

Hermione made the split-second decision to not mention the poem at this point. Their emotions were very heightened right now. There were a lot of pressures on both their shoulders. She was assured now that what they were both feeling for each other was real. 

Draco was obviously waiting until the time was right before he opened up completely to her. 

‘Oh, yes. I did flick through. I realised immediately,’ she said airily. 

He looked a little suspicious, but when she didn’t say anything more he simply gave her a small smile.

She passed him the folder as he seemed to relax a little. 

‘Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said as Harry watched the interaction curiously. 

‘Tomorrow,’ she said as she gave Draco a coy smile and then turned and smiled at Harry. 

Harry gave her a small wave. 

They disappeared down the corridor as Hermione returned to her bed. 

Harry glanced at the dreamy look in Draco’s eyes. He was so smitten with Hermione. Harry didn’t quite understand it, but he knew this was a positive development. Whatever the future held, that Draco was feeling actual, good emotions for Hermione was a massive step forward from the arrogant pureblood supremacist he had been not so long ago.

Harry smiled to himself. Hermione would be considered a catch by many wizards. Objectively he could see that. Over the years she had matured. She could still be demanding when she needed to be, but then, so could Draco. She was still tinged with that innate arrogance that had never quite left her, but then so was Draco.

They were obviously attracted to each other. Harry wasn’t blind. Their body language toward each other was very open and the very overt eye contact with each other hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He’d been standing further back and even he’d felt the tension reverberating over to him.

‘Hey, Draco,’ he murmured. ‘I’m going to pop down to the kitchen to get a sandwich. I’ll see you later.’ 

‘Ok,’ Draco responded vaguely. 

They peered at each other for a moment. There had been a definite shift between them. It was partly because Harry understood how much Draco needed to help him to make things right. It was partly because of the visions. Draco had seen other sides to Harry and all he had gone through and how hard he fought.

Draco respected him greatly for his bravery in the face of all that adversity. 

Mostly the change was because of Hermione.

Both of them had begun to realise how important the other man was to her. 

It mattered that they could be civilised with each other. 

When Harry has first realised they’d swapped he’d felt immediate terror for her.

Over time he now felt relief that it had been Draco. It could have been so much worse. 

They parted ways.

Draco waved his wand and covered himself with the disillusionment charm. He wasn’t in the mood to be stopped.

There were eyes everywhere.

Draco made his way back to the Gryffindor dorms feeling so light it was incredible. He didn't know for sure but he thought that maybe she had read the poem. She had been looking at him with an expression of genuine amazement. Something indefinable had changed between them. He'd felt it. 

The poem had been something he'd written when he had been feeling extremely poignant. He'd been thinking of his dreams of her. The touch of her. Everything he was finding out about her was making him feel a part of himself he'd never even known he'd lost was coming back to him. 

It hadn’t been intended for her eyes but he read her very well. She was looking at him with a very soft expression. He’d meant every one of those words he'd put down. His parents had always stressed the importance of choosing his wife well. 

She'd been right there, in front of him for years but he'd been so blinded by his stupid bigotry he hadn't been able to see her. 

He was now seeing all of her with both their masks down and he was liking very much what he was seeing.

She was perfect for him. She was smart, decent and kind. She also had a lethal streak that stirred his inner Serpent immensely.

That cold, dangerous side to her was something he recognised in himself too. 

He considered his parents. He was their only son. His cunning side looked at the big picture. In time they would accept this. Riddle would bring devastation to their lives. He was prepared for reconciliation to take years. They would return to him. It would be a blow to him but being with Hermione had a future.

He had already accepted the war had made his fortune and the Manor vulnerable anyway. 

He no longer considered losing that to be the worst thing that could happen to him. Unpleasant? Sure. After having it floating around his mind he knew he could cope if he had to. He’d seen the worst happen in the Great Hall. He could start again. If it meant he had to live without this season's designer clothing for a few years then it was a price he was prepared to pay. 

He winced at that sacrifice. Then he thought of how Hermione had felt on top of him.

If everything worked out, how he intended to spend a lot of his future wouldn’t involve very many clothes. If any, he thought with a wide grin. 

There was one very amazing pastime that Draco valued much more than even fashion.

Hermione had been very enthusiastic with him which had excited him more than he could say. That boded well for the future. He enjoyed give and take in the bedroom. 

Riddle was his current obstacle. The problems a marriage to Hermione would bring were obvious. He knew now he would rather have a life with problems with Hermione than any sort of life without her. He’d felt more alive with her in his life than he had done since he was a small boy.

With Hermione by his side, he could take them all on. He had handled this body swap for Salazar's sake. 

He heard voices up ahead. It was late and the long corridor was quite dark. A few flames lit the way. 

His body tensed when he realised it was Ron.

Draco moved silently. He was talking to Lavender in an alcove.

He had little to no interest in what was being said but Ron wasn’t making any effort to keep his voice down. 

‘Hey, babe. You know I want to go public with you. It’s just that Hermione’s a bit distraught that I don’t wanna be with her. I’m trying to be a little sensitive to her, you know.’ 

‘That’s you all over, Ron,’ came Lavender’s voice. ‘She’s such a cow to you but I understand. You care about her.’ 

‘I do. I’m considerate like that.’

‘She’s so dumb not to see how amazing you are.’ 

‘I know, darling. I wanted to make it work but I just don’t see her as the settling down type. I don’t think she’s capable of being faithful to me. She’s got a wandering eye and she’s always looking for attention. I don’t trust she’ll be loyal to me. I need a classy woman. She’s not like you, Lav.’

‘You know you’re the only man for me. You’re the one I think about all the time. I’d never need anyone else. You make me feel so special.’

‘That's because you are special, babe.’ 

Lavender did her tinkling little laugh as they kissed.

Ron pulled away and looked at her sombrely.

‘She’s so immature, Lav. I want you. I need a woman who appreciates me. Not one who makes me believe she doesn’t care about me.’ 

‘I want you too. In all the ways it’s possible to want someone,’ Lavender simpered. 

‘I know you do,’ Ron said in a deeper voice that Draco suspected was put on. 

‘I think you’re so brilliant,’ Lavender said. 

Draco resisted the urge to snigger. 

There was the sound of more kissing as Draco began to make his way past them on tiptoe. Ron was running his hands all over her as Lavender’s hands made their way down his back. 

‘Merlin, Lavender,’ he murmured. ‘You sure know the right things to say to me.’ 

‘You’ve been so neglected by her. I’d never make you feel bad about yourself. I’ll always show you just how much I respect and admire you. I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.’ 

‘I respect you too. So much,’ he murmured. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw her give him an expression of worship.

‘You show me all the time how highly you regard me. You trust me to do right by you,’ Ron said to her in a husky tone.   

‘I trust you, Ron. Completely.’ 

Draco didn’t dare breathe. He was almost past them. 

‘You’re so good to me,’ Ron told her in a tone that was heavier than it had been. 

‘I’d do anything to make you happy,’ she told him in a breathless tone. 

'You’re always so nice to me. Will you always be nice to me?’ he asked her in a low voice.

Draco heard her heavy breathing.

‘Yes. I always will be.’ 

‘I couldn’t bear it if you changed. I’m very sensitive,’ Ron said to her in a smooth voice.

‘I'll never change. Not with you. You’re my everything.’

'You're amazing.' 

The sounds of kissing and soft moans echoed in the corridor. 

Draco felt great relief when he was finally out of earshot.

Meanwhile, in the dungeons in the Castle one Gregory Goyle was composing a letter. This was taking far longer to do than it would most students but he kept at it. He needed to write to this father. His father had told him at threat of wand point that he required a weekly update about Draco’s mission, Dumbledore, Harry Potter and his two sidekicks. Any unusual incidents in the castle needed to be reported. 

Goyle stuck out his tongue as he focused on forming the letters that comprised the update. 

To Dad.

Malfoy is happy with mission.  

Castle quiet.

Potter quiet.

Mudblood quiet.

Blood traitor in a strop because he can’t play Quidditch well.

Haven't seen Headmaster this week.

From

Gregory. 

He placed his quill down with a shaky hand. 

He checked the time. One hour. It was better than last time. 

He massaged his wrist and then went to the owlery to send the innocuous letter to the intended recipient.

This weekly ritual always went unnoticed by all in the castle. Even Crabbe wasn’t aware of Goyle’s diligence. 

There would come a day when one of his letters would have far-reaching ramifications for all.

Hermione was reading the Daily Prophet at breakfast with a blank face. She was early and the Slytherin table was almost empty. Several more people had gone missing. The tone in the paper was morbid. 

She was getting more impatient to do something, anything. Dumbledore had told them to sit tight for now. She hated it but she understood. Too much tampering in the timeline could lead to even worse consequences. 

She thought of Katie Bell and the ripple effect of what they had already done. Katie had been in the hospital for weeks. The butterfly effect was concerning.

She put it out of her mind. 

She hoped Dumbledore knew what he was doing. She tried to relax. They were already way in front compared to last time. Only Nagini remained to anchor Riddle to earth. 

She glanced across at herself at the Gryffindor table to cheer herself up. Things were so different in some ways than they had been. 

Her insides smiled as she thought of that poem. He loved her. She thought of the man he was becoming. How much he had willed himself to change. At his core would always be an arrogant man. She thought back to what Blaise had said about their similarities. It was another thing they had in common. They were alike in some ways. 

Her dream was to be the Minister of Magic in the end. Draco was ambitious. He would understand implicitly. 

She wondered if she would have followed the same path that Draco had if she had been born a Malfoy. Perhaps, for a time. She didn’t like to be proved wrong either. She knew deep down that she would have faltered in the end though. Like Draco had. When the hideous truth became apparent something deep inside her would have revolted.  

He was being brave too, facing this with her. She thought of his face and the way his body had felt against hers. She thought of the dancing and how his fingers had trailed up her. This caused her mind small waves of pleasure. His intelligence was also appealing to her. 

He was not a dull man either. He wasn’t a yes man but he wanted to listen to her talk. He could be reasoned with. He liked to discuss things with her but they didn't argue with raised voices as she did with Ron if their opinions didn't match. Draco agreed with her on the things that mattered to them both. He also knew his own mind. She had a strong character and he didn’t seem the sort to always let her run the show. He’d also want one hand on the wheel too. They were equals. That thought excited her. She’d always liked that aspect of being part of the trio. A part of something where they each contributed and looked out for each other. 

She considered the potential marriage.

She sipped on her tea. Marriage was a long way off but she knew now that he wanted that with her.

She thought of her ideal future where Riddle was gone and she was much older. Draco was interested in politics like she was. He was curious about many things. He understood the Wizarding World better than she did. Even now she was still discovering new things. She remembered never hearing of Beedle of the Bard on the Hunt. A children’s book that every witch and wizard who grew up in the Wizarding World knew. 

She wanted her own children to know more about their magical heritage than she did. Draco was a walking encyclopaedia. Would he be a good father? They were young. There would be years to think of that. She thought of his grey eyes and the gentle way he had held her. In time, she thought he could be. The mistakes his own parents had made with him would actually help in the long run. 

Pansy sat down and nudged her.

‘Morning, Draco. Don't look now, but check out your three o'clock. What a pair of hot buns he has,’ she whispered into her ear as a well built Ravenclaw walked by. 

Hermione bit her tongue. This wasn't the first time Pansy had commented on various men with her. She could sometimes be a little bit too supportive. 

She changed the subject. ‘So, you and Cormac. How’s that going?’ 

Anything would be a better conversation than discussing the various male body parts around them. 

‘So well. I’ll always have fond memories of you and me, but what Cormie and I have is different.’ 

‘Cormie?’ Hermione clarified this subtle nickname. 

The tender look that passed Pansy’s face held her spellbound. 

‘He’s the one, Draco. I know it. I know it as sure as I know my own name.’ 

Hermione was momentarily stunned at seeing this soft side of Pansy. 

‘Now you and I are resolved it’s given me peace. I’ll always love you but I know now that part of that was a habit. Part of it was our history. There was always something not quite right I think with us.’ 

Hermione nodded slowly and gave Pansy her most understanding expression. 

‘I trust you. I’m comfortable with you. I’ve thought about us a lot. How I feel with Cormac is so different. There is an undefinable connection with him. When he’s with me he makes me feel like I’m his world. When I’m with him, he’s all I can think about. There was always something about you that I found untouchable. Even without the whole gay thing, would you and I have been happy in the long term without that je ne sais quoi factor? I don’t think we would have.’ 

Hermione took her hand and squeezed it. 

‘I’m glad to see you happy.' 

‘Thanks for standing by me. People don’t mess with us when we stand together.’ 

‘I’ll always have your back, Pans,’ she said truthfully. Draco always would have her back. 

‘Even the Gryffindork trio haven’t said a word to me about it,’ Pansy said. 'Although I don't think the Weasel has noticed. He's been too busy stampeding about like an elephant. What on earth is wrong with him? It's undignified.' 

Hermione shrugged. 'I prefer not to think about what goes on in his head.' 

'Quite right.'  

‘You and Cormac being together is a good thing. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin together show it's possible to ignore labels. It’s the way forward,’ she said absentmindedly. 

Pansy gazed at her. ‘You finally coming to terms with your sexuality has changed you. I never thought you’d speak like that.’ 

She sighed. ‘We divide ourselves for senseless reasons. Ultimately there are only two kinds of people on this planet. Reasonable and unreasonable. All the rest of the stuff doesn’t matter.’ 

Pansy stared at her for a long time. ‘What is it you’ve seen?’ 

‘Everything,’ she muttered. 

Pansy glanced around her. There was still a lot of space around them. 

‘I thought…’ she trailed off. 

Hermione glanced at her questioning face.

Draco had told her that Pansy hadn’t reacted well to the reality of a RIddle run castle. 

‘Things aren’t going to turn out the way we were led to believe.’ 

Pansy tilted her head in contemplation. ‘Why are you talking like this?’ 

Hermione shook her head. ‘You know I can’t speak of it. Just know that nothing is as it seems with any of it.’ 

Pansy looked at her with an inscrutable look. 

‘Why are you talking like this? You seem rather pleased with yourself when you're with Crabbe and Goyle.’ 

‘I can't explain. I just need you to be careful.’

‘But, the ideology. They’re going to reform our world. They're going to improve it. There will be more focus on tradition and old magic. You know what they say about the muggle influences. They say they're rotting our culture. They can transfer the muggleborns to another school.’

Hermione gave a sardonic scoff. 

‘The rot,’ she whispered. 

Pansy’s brow furrowed. 

‘The rot,’ Hermione murmured. ‘In time you’ll see for yourself who the rot actually is.’ 

Pansy stilled. 

Daphne and Tracey were making their way over to them as the conversation stopped. 

Hermione returned to the Daily Prophet. The clock was ticking down. In some ways, the showdown seemed so far in the future. 

As she looked at the familiar news stories that she remembered from the past, it was creeping up very quickly. 

The day of the Ministry visit arrived. They were both in very high spirits when they met in the Headmaster's office. Hermione was very tactile with him when they were both together in private. They hadn’t spoken about the poem yet. He sensed that she’d turned a corner with him though. 

It’s very nice to see you two getting along,’ the Headmaster said in his demure way. 

They’d both smiled politely to him but hadn’t expanded on that. Whether Albus thought there was more going on he didn’t say. 

‘I’ll accompany you to the Ministry. There are several people I wish to visit myself.’

‘How’s the plan going, Headmaster? Draco asked politely. 

‘Oh, it’s coming along very well.’ 

‘Have you any other secret weapon other than the elder wand being lined up?’ he asked. 

‘All is being taken care of,’ he said with an air of finality. 

‘So, you do have something?’ Draco asked with an earnest tone. 

Albus peered at him. ‘Weapon is a strange choice of word. Its connotations are sinister. Bombs, guns, killing curses and machetes spring to my mind when I consider them.’ 

‘Well, we need something stronger than him to defeat him. Even if we get Nagini, he is still the most powerful wizard in the country,’ Draco said petulantly. He bit his lip. ‘The most Powerful Dark Wizard. My apologies, Headmaster. I didn't mean to offend you.' 

Albus gave him a nod. ‘Accepted.’ 

There was a moment of quiet. 

Albus tilted his head and observed them both silently. 

‘Have you got the sword of Gryffindor?’ Hermione asked. 

‘Ah, yes. That is another arrow in our bow. That shall be aiding us too.’ 

Draco observed the Headmaster. ‘So, two weapons. Is there anything else in our arsenal?’ 

Albus was observing Draco with a warm expression in his eyes. ‘Mr Malfoy. You have been surrounded by darkness all your life. Now you are stepping into the light. We do things rather differently to the way you are used to.’

Draco lifted his eyebrows. ‘Yes, I’d already gathered that.’ 

Albus gave him a grin. ‘You are second only to Miss Granger in most of your classes. You have been blessed with natural intelligence. It has proved a most valuable gift to us all. It has allowed you to question your world and the people in it to great effect. You have critical thinking skills, Mr Malfoy. You have the ability to empathise with others. Try and think out of the box when you think of weapons.’ 

Draco and Hermione both looked confused by this. 

Albus leant forward. ‘Take for example Harry’s mother. Her sacrifice for her son gave him protection. The curse rebounded off him.’ 

Hermione paled at that. ‘Do you think Harry will have to sacrifice himself again?’ 

Draco peered at the Headmaster. ‘How many more times does that poor bastard have to die?’ 

‘Draco,’ Hermione tutted. 

‘Sorry,’ Draco murmured. ‘I just feel for the guy. Hasn’t he done enough?’ 

Hermione smiled at that. Draco was showing some concern for Harry. Wonders would never cease.

‘I don’t think Harry needs to die, Miss Granger,’ the Headmaster said. ‘The connection to Tom is broken. He is still a part of the prophecy, however. He needs to be the one to face him.’ 

‘Do you think the elder wand will be enough against him?’ Draco asked tentatively. ‘Forgive me, but you fought against him at the Ministry and well, it was a draw, wasn’t it?’ 

Albus considered him. ‘I was not fighting to kill, Mr Malfoy. Merely to protect.’ 

Draco brightened up a little at that. Then his brow furrowed as he thought further along.

‘Are they going to be enough? Even if Harry has the elder wand and we have the sword, they can only do so much. What about everyone else? Tom is a maniac. You saw what he did in the great hall to everyone even without its allegiance.’ 

‘I have faith that the Vortex is leading us,’ Albus said in a soft tone. 

‘Don't misunderstand me. I do too. Taking us back here to prevent that awful future has been awesome. The Vortex has been sort of strange too though. We don’t understand it. I still don’t get why it’s swapped us over. You don’t either, do you, Hermione?’

‘I admit, I don’t understand it. It sent us back to this time so I think it’s for good. It’s helped Harry, but the visions are unusual. Why do you think we’re getting visions, Headmaster? I thought maybe they’d be clues there to fight Tom with, but so far nothing I’ve seen seems directly relevant to that.’ 

‘The magic the Vortex is capable of is intricate. In time you will understand its motivations.’ 

Hermione left it at that. Albus was being particularly vague. He knew something. She was sure of it. She knew from experience if he was holding something back then it was for a very good reason. 

'I suggest we move on,' Albus said with a warm tone. 

They went through the floo and arrived in an official-looking office.

Hermione glanced around and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt sitting in the corner. 

‘Ah, the project. It's very good to see you all,’ the tall Auror murmured. 

Hermione put on her appropriately sulky face. 

‘Indeed,’ Albus said with a smile. 

Draco made sure he looked earnestly happy. 

‘I hope you're learning a lot from this endeavour, Mr Malfoy,’ Kingsley said to Hermione with a bland expression. 

Hermione gave him a haughty look and then turned away. 

Draco smirked. She’d got him spot on. His old self wouldn’t have even deigned to show Kingsley even the most basic courtesy of speaking to him. He looked at his petulant younger self. 

Kingsley just gave Hermione a rueful smirk. He turned then to Draco. 

‘Miss Granger. Always a pleasure to see you. How are you handling this project?’

Kingsley looked at Hermione and then back to him with meaning. 

‘As expected, Draco has provided me with some predictable challenges but I have swatted aside his deplorable, archaic attitudes as easily as I would do a moth. As I assured the Headmaster at the start, I thrive on challenges.’

Hermione gave a dismissive snort.

Draco smirked inwardly as he imitated Hermione's more assertive nature. ‘Draco's dismissive attitude has been child’s play to me. I expect to encounter many Draco’s in my future career as I aim to revolutionise the Wizarding World and bring it kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century. He has been useful practice.’ 

Kingsley gave Draco a broad smile as Albus’s lips twitched. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and pretended to sulk, but inside she was grinning at Draco’s very arrogant impression of her.

‘Right. Well, here are your day passes.' Kingsley said as he handed them one each. 

With murmurs of polite thank you's they left Kingsley and made their way into the Ministry. It was a nice welcome to see it back to how it was before the Minister had been killed and Riddle had taken over in the original timeline. 

Hermione paid close attention to the statues in the atrium that showed not the Muggles being crushed underneath Magical Might but the original, much nicer design. Albus had deigned to accompany them to their interviewees. 

A pleasant day was had meeting these prominent muggleborns.

Draco had taken over the bulk of the questioning as Hermione made sure she looked suitably bored. 

They collected a lot of interesting titbits to go into their book. Anecdotes were plenty. 

There had touched on the more serious issues and there been a few subtle acknowledgements of the issues in the shadows. 

Draco was surprised to see a sort of resigned acceptance when the Dark Lord was referenced by each of them. 

‘What goes around comes around,’ Bill Peakes had told him.

‘We will fight against it of course,’ Martina had murmured. ‘This is not unexpected, though. There will always be men like him. They are everywhere. Always they sow hatred. They deflect the hatred away from those who most deserve it.’

Draco knew those words to be very accurate. 

Matt had been a very warm man. Hermione had sat quietly with each of them. Draco had taken the lead in all the interviews. He was genuinely interested in what they each had to say. Hermione made copious notes. 

Martina Stone had fascinated Draco. Hermione listened to a twenty minutes conversation about warm and cold skin tones and the right colour fabrics to wear. 

She had watched Draco talk earnestly with an amused looking Martina. They were clearly kindred spirits. 

They'd gone for a walk at lunch outside of the Ministry. They'd found a discreet cafe in a quiet London street and had relaxed with a tea and idle chat. 

On the way back Hermione had disappeared into a pharmacy and had come out several minutes later with a rather enigmatic expression on her face. Draco hadn't quite known why she had looked so cryptic but she had then given him a rather sensuous look so he had focused on that instead. 

Hermione had secured her package which was now nestled in the bottom of Draco's leather bag. 

Greta Malone had discussed Quidditch at length with who she thought was Hermione. Hermione was simply making sure she blended into the background. Draco Malfoy couldn't be seen to be overly enthusiastic with muggleborns. Eyes were everywhere. 

Draco asked her a myriad of questions about her success in the sports department. 

Hermione watched him quietly. He was very animated with each of them. His body language was open. He put them each at their ease in moments. Hermione pondered that. He could be very charming when he had no pressure on him.

He actually looked much more natural in his comfort zone when he could simply be himself. He'd always looked so angry and frustrated in the past when he used to lock horns with the trio. 

He was very avid with the attention he gave each of them. 

Their last interview with Samuel had run very late into the afternoon but they were pleased with all the information they had acquired. 

Albus had already returned to the Castle by this point. 

Draco had waved goodbye to the very rock n roll Samuel with genuine enthusiasm. 

'How cool was he?' Draco exclaimed. 

Hermione had chortled as she packed away her notes from the day. 'It was very nice of him to let you play his guitar,' she said with a grin.

'That was so awesome of him,' Draco murmured. 'That guitar has been all around the world.' 

She lifted her bag up which felt heavier than it had done. They had more than enough to be getting on with. 

'You did a brilliant job today, Draco.' 

He smiled at her. 'Thanks. Those questions you added were great. They led to us getting so much more information. I'm going to enjoy putting their profiles together in the book.' 

'Same,' she said. 

They made their way down a dark quiet corridor back to Kingsley's office in the Auror department.  

After such a nice day It had been very jarring when the cruel face of Yaxley had loomed up in front of them. 

He had clearly been waiting for them. 

Hermione had an unpleasant moment when Yaxley pulled her away for a little chat in his office. 

Yaxley had stared at Draco with contempt. 

'Granger. Wait there. I need a word with Malfoy.'

Draco stepped forward. 'The Headmaster told us to stay together.'

Yaxley sneered at him. 'Are you deaf, Granger? Do what you're told,' he snapped. 

The door was slammed shut before Draco could slip inside. He clenched his mouth in irritation and put his ear to the door.

He had never trusted Yaxley an inch. His twisted atrocities in the future were still fresh in his mind. His cold eyes had lingered far too long on his mother. Draco wasn't a mind reader but Yaxley's demeanour was crystal clear. He was picturing depravity. 

He'd overhead many putrid conversations in Malfoy Manor. Death Eaters spoke of repulsive, awful things that had sickened him. Before they were living in his home, he had believed Death Eaters to be tough soldiers, fighting against the ruin of their world. 

It hadn't taken long for his whole worldview to turn upside down. 

Draco felt his blood pulsate as Yaxley's voice drifted through the door.

He didn’t want Hermione anywhere near this creep. Visions were one thing. The reality was quite another. He knew Hermione planned to play him as nasty as possible. Tom's followers were reporting back to him. They didn't want Tom doubting his convictions. He had to be seen as a willing Death Eater to avoid too much attention. He already carried the Dark Mark. 

By the end of the conversation Yaxley was having with Hermione, he had dug his nails so far into his palms he'd drawn blood. It was vile enough when he'd had to listen to fragments of their deranged bragging of what they had done to people.

As he looked down at Hermione's hands, he realised just what atrocious fate was awaiting him if they failed to defeat Riddle. 

‘Sit, Draco,’ Yaxley had murmured. 

Hermione plastered on an aloof look and lounged in the leather seat. She intended to play the most extreme bastard version of Draco she could muster. 

Yaxley’s eyes roamed over her. 

‘What are you doing here with that thing?’ he asked in a cutting voice. 

‘Dumbledore's orders,' she sneered. 'That old bastard has forced me into some ridiculous Muggleborn Appreciation Project. We have to interview mudbloods who have stolen jobs from purebloods. I’ve been told to treat this insult as if this was some sort of good thing,’ she said in Draco’s old drawl. ‘It’s blatant propaganda. The fucking lot has made me sick.’ 

‘You should have refused,’ Yaxley said in a low tone. 

‘I did. He just kept pushing. He told me I had to at least show willingness. He put the pressure on. It’s only for a short time.’ 

Yaxley sneered at her. ‘He’s a manipulative asshole. He knows you despise mudbloods. He’s trying to humiliate you. I imagine that filthy slag is rubbing your face in it. Typical of that breed of animal. She has no class.’ 

Hermione lifted an eyebrow as she forced her hands not to clench. ‘Father told me how important it is to be able to show our fake public faces until the time is right. Our masks can’t come off completely until the Dark Lord has full control of the Ministry. It’s only a matter of time before the Ministry falls and Scrimgeour is dead. We both know that. I’m biding my time. The old man will pay for this. I promise you that. I'll have the last laugh.’ 

Yaxley sat back in contemplation. 

‘How is your mission going? You know what's at stake.’  

‘I will not fail my parents,’ Hermione said with a light smile. ‘It is all going very well indeed. I have created a direct connection to the castle that bypasses the wards. My orders from the Dark Lord are simple. Eradicate the nuisance that is Dumbledore. I am always looking for opportunities but they are all on alert. He rarely leaves his office. I am biding my time for now. If I haven’t succeeded by the deadline, I shall open up the passage into the castle for the Dark Lord’s followers to implement the first stages of his plan if no valid opportunity presents itself to me shortly. The steps are clear. Once Dumbledore falls, the Ministry will be ripe for the picking.’ 

Yaxley gave her a feral grin. 

‘Let’s hope you make a better success of this mission than that absolute fuck up of your fathers.’ 

Hermione gave him a cold look. ‘My father made a mistake. He is taking his punishment for that.’ 

Yaxley looked at her with cruel eyes. ‘The Dark Lord doesn’t see Azkaban as being punishment enough. If you do not redeem the House of Malfoy, your parents will suffer the consequences.’ 

‘They will suffer nothing,’ Hermione said with a caustic tone. ‘My plan is perfect. There is no way I can fail. The light side will start to fall like dominoes once I’ve finished with the Headmaster. The Dark Lord will be the one thanking me for my services.’ 

‘I want to discuss the mudblood.'

‘What about her?’ she asked with a tone of great annoyance. 

‘I imagine she’s attempting to make you miserable with her gloating.’ 

‘She’s irrelevant. Her opinion is of no interest to me.’ 

Yaxley leant forward. ‘She’s an obnoxious little bitch, Draco. Her vile opinions are of great interest to me. I can’t stand her. I cannot wait until I get to show her exactly what she is. She'll learn soon enough where she really belongs.'

Hermione gave him a cold smile. ‘They do need to be put back into their rightful place. I do agree, Yaxley.’ 

‘I knew you would. You seem most determined to recover your family's good name and restore our world to greatness.’ 

‘I am very determined. The Malfoy name will be infamous in our world by the time I’m finished.’ 

‘Good man,’ Yaxley said in an admiring tone. His eyes searched the face of who he thought was Draco. 

‘You admire the Dark Lord greatly,’ Yaxley stated. ‘You wish to serve him to the best of your abilities?’

Hermione watched him lean forward. ‘I wish to be deemed worthy to serve him. I don’t expect this to happen overnight. I do expect to work hard to gain his attention.’

Yaxley appeared satisfied by this answer. 

‘The Dark Lord has deemed me worthy of controlling Azkaban when he ascends back to power,’ Yaxley bragged. 

Hermione gave him an intrigued look in response. 

‘He must think very highly of you,’ she murmured.  

Yaxley looked smug. ‘He knows I am the man he needs to educate the future inmates of Azkaban. They will have a lot to learn about the new world. Once they have been properly trained, they will join the Dark Lord's ranks.’ 

Hermione leant forward. ‘Educate?’ 

‘Once the Ministry falls, any rebels and undesirables to the new government will be arrested and imprisoned under my careful supervision. They will be sorted into blood status for their initial assessments. The Dark Lord has been thorough with my associates and me in what he expects of them. His standards are very high. My associates and I will be given a free hand in which to help guide them toward their new lives. There are many techniques we can use.'

Yaxley said all this with a very greedy expression.

Hermione motioned to him to continue. She'd pieced together for herself the dark futures of the light side if Riddle won, but to have it confirmed stoked her inner motivations.

'The Dark Lord is expecting a last stand against him, led presumably by Potter. Once he is defeated and all hope is gone, what remains of his supporters will be captured and then reprogrammed. If they can show us they are willing to submit to the new regime, they will be tested by the Dark Lord.'

Hermione watched him carefully. 'Tested?' 

'The Dark Lord will inspect their minds. He shall know who is sincere. I imagine after spending a year in Azkaban with Dementors and my associates then many of them will have a change of mind about where their true loyalties lay.'

Hermione gave him a sardonic look of her own. 

'Those with pureblood and the half-bloods will be given time to realise their grave mistakes in betraying us. Those who admit to their past stupidity will be branded with the Dark Mark and will serve under the Dark Lord. If they still persist in their ridiculous notions of mixing the blood and associating with muggles and mudbloods then they can share their fate. They will be stripped of their names and blood status. They will put on the bottom rung.'

Yaxley then gave her a lecherous look that had her blood turn cold. 

'The Dark Lord has ordered my main focus to be on the real filth of our world.'

Hermione felt a surge of hatred towards him. 

Yaxley gave her a smarmy look. 'He intends for every last mudblood in the country to have been captured within the year. They are currently feral creatures. Disorganised. Stupid. It should be easy to obtain them. We are already recruiting snatchers. They’re straining already at the leash to get going. The older mudbloods serve no purpose to us. They will be given to the Dementors as playthings. The Dark Lord has certain expectations for the younger mudbloods, however. He has plans for them which will be very lucrative for him.’ 

Hermione forced a cold smile on her face. ‘What plans are they?’ 

‘The Dark Lord has friends in many places around the country and this world,’ Yaxley said with a lazy smile. ‘They have expressed great interest in purchasing our acquisitions.’ 

'Acquisitions?'

Yaxley gave her a haughty expression. ‘Their requirements are simple. They will pay handsomely for a fully trained mudblood slave.’

Hermione felt her throat go dry. She gave Yaxley the infamous gloating face of Draco. 

‘How handsomely?’ she asked with interest. 

‘They are offering him vulgar amounts of currency. Even the Dark Lord was pleased.'

Hermione gave him an arrogant nod. 'That must be an enormous amount then.' 

Yaxley gave her a leer.

'Have you considered the ways you will serve the Dark Lord? There shall be many ways to please him and perhaps, ways in which you can also please yourself. I don't think I need to tell you that training the filth on how to be obedient to their superiors will be very pleasurable for the correct men to undertake.’

Hermione wanted to rip his head off.  'You don't need to tell me. I know for certain how invigorating that would be,' she said smoothly. 

Yaxley gave her a fiendish look. ‘Very good. Each mudblood will be trained in Azkaban by myself and the men I choose to assist me. We expect some rebellion while we break them. Eventually, they will be ready to serve their superiors. They will need to be disciplined and punished harshly in order for them to improve and reach the high standards the Dark Lord has set for them. They will need to be worth the money being paid for them. The Dark Lord insists that they will each learn that any command that is issued to them by their new masters are always to be obeyed, no matter how repellant. By the time we’re finished with them, shame and humiliation will be meaningless concepts. We shall strip them of their dignity and pride. Their submissiveness will be attained using any means necessary.'

Hermione felt the bile in her throat as she kept her face rigid. She kept rubbing her thumb over Draco's Slytherin ring in an attempt to calm herself. It soothed her a little. 

Yaxley reached into his robe and pulled out a pair of silver wrist cuffs.

'The Dark Lord has created these. They are exquisite. Each slave will be issued a pair. They are capable of administering the Crucio curse for an unlimited amount of time. Their owners simply only need issue the command.'

He placed them on the desk as she pulled her face into one of appreciation.

Yaxley stroked the cuffs with a light touch. 'They're so beautiful.'

The dark look in his eyes and the demented expression that crossed his face made Hermione's insides cringe. She forced her own face into one of gloating at his plan. 

'You could go very far in the new world if you make the right choices,' Yaxley said in a matter of fact tone.

‘Go on, Yaxley,’ she murmured. ‘I’m listening very carefully.’ 

He smirked at her. ‘I thought you would be. I have been choosing my future associates with great care. Only a certain kind of pureblood wizard will be suitable for this particular mission. I need men who do not yield. I need men who show no mercy. I do not allow for weakness. I also require the men who work for me to be adept at magical healing spells. My men will be demanding and ruthless with them for months. Our buyers will expect a fit and healthy specimen to be delivered to them.’

Hermione scratched her chin as if in deep thought. 'Buyers?'

'They are already putting in their orders,' he smirked. 

'Already?' Hermione asked. 

Yaxley pulled out a thick ledger from his desk drawer and dropped it on the table. The heavy thud echoed around the room. He opened it up and flicked through it. She could see half the book was already filled with names and addresses. 

'The Dark Lord is very confident of success,' Yaxley gave her an egotistical look. 'They know his methods will be very effective in providing them with what they desire.' 

Hermione thought of the time turner in the future and of his arrogance in the great hall. This is what would happen in the future if they couldn't stop him. 

Yaxley rubbed his hands together. ‘I see myself in you, Draco. I will need men who see the mudbloods for what they are. They are not human. They are less than house-elves. They will soon learn that their only purpose in life is to be dutiful to their betters. Once they are no longer useful, they can be discarded and another can take its place.’

Hermione’s blood had almost stopped pumping. She held that thuggish look on her face that she had seen younger Draco show. She couldn’t currently formulate any words that weren't expletives.  

Yaxley gave her a brutal look. ‘The training will take months. Any disobedience will be dealt with by the whip and the wand. They will soon learn to keep their cheap mouths shut.’ 

Hermione gave him a vicious look that Yaxley mistook for motivation. ‘Have you done this before?’

‘Many times,’ Yaxley bragged. ‘I have used the dungeon in my own manor to perfect my skills. The trick is knowing just how far you can break a woman before she is killed. It took me seven women before I found the limit with them. I like to keep them on the edge of death and torment. I won't even have to bother with the Imperius curse anymore. No more memory charms. They will know exactly what I've done to them. I'll get to look them in the eyes as I hurt them and there won't be a thing they can do about it. They will be utterly defenceless against me.'

Hermione could only gaze at this vile individual with that same practised look of viciousness. She understood what Draco had meant when he had said about seeing true evil. Yaxley was more malevolent and sinister than she could have possibly imagined. Pansy seemed like an Angel to her now. 

'You too shall learn in time just how far you can push them. I expect my men will kill many of the weaker mudbloods as they become more experienced. The men may be harder to break physically so it shall be a learning experience for all of us. This is to be expected. They will be no loss. The Dark Lord demands the best. The ones who survive training will need to be strong to withstand the demands of being a slave to the calibre of client that they will be expected to serve.’

Hermione felt nauseous. 

Yaxley was looking more aroused. ‘Every year that goes by there will be more mudbloods to train. The magical registry is good enough to list them and a home address when they turn eleven. We can take them from their homes when they're young.’

Hermione almost cracked her teeth as her jaw clenched. Her fingers wanted to wrap around her wand. She pictured slicing him across his throat. She wanted to do anything to end his wicked life. 

'We will own them, body and soul. They will be very sought after in the new world.'

Hermione leant back with a fake nonchalance as she smiled grimly at him. 

Yaxley gave him a mean look. 'When you leave here take a good look at Granger. This time next year I'll have her under my personal control. The Dark Lord intends for Potter's bitch to be punished harshly for her insolence. Once her training is complete he is going to take ownership of her. Azkaban will seem like a holiday camp by the time he's through with her. She will die a slow, torturous death. The Dark Lord intends for it to take years. She will be a lesson to any mudblood who thinks they are in any way our equals.'

Yaxley leant back with a look of triumph at this statement. 

Hermione gritted her teeth which made her look even more menacing. 

‘Now, Draco. You currently have access to her. If you could hand her personally to the Dark Lord, he would reward you greatly. If you achieve this I will guarantee I will make you part of my team in Azkaban. Think of it. All those mudbloods in their rightful place. All of them your property.’

Yaxley gave her a greedy look as she nodded slowly with a harsh glint in her eyes. 

Hermione heard him give a sick little giggle. 

She gave him a mean smile. 

‘I didn’t realise Granger was so sought after by the Dark Lord.’ 

Yaxley gave her a cold smile. ‘As much as the Dark Lord would like to keep Potter alive to inflict agony on him, he needs to be killed quickly. Granger will suffer on his behalf. It will give the Dark Lord some satisfaction to know he can continue to torture him in the afterlife.’ 

Hermione gave him a cruel look. ‘Leave it with me. I can assure you that I will deliver Granger, in person, to him.’ 

Yaxley gave her a manic smile that she returned in kind.

‘The Dark Lord will be very pleased to hear that, Draco.’ 

She stood and then turned briskly and left the room before she decapitated him. 

The rage and worry she felt now for Draco and all the others was now absolute.

Her original fate was now his fate if they didn’t finish Riddle. 

She had known on some level how grotesque life would be under Riddle’s leadership but the sheer scale of it and the sadistic pleasure Yaxley had spoken of people made her want to hurl. 

She didn't dare look at Draco as she stormed past him.

He followed her quickly, his face pale. She heard his steps behind her as they made their way to Kingsley's office. 

With a newfound fervour, she made her way to the floo. 

They returned to Dumbledore’s office and found it empty. 

She took a deep breath and turned to him. 

‘I was listening at the door. Are you ok?’ Draco asked her quietly. 

‘No,’ she murmured. 

She sat down in one of the chairs and wrapped her arms around herself. She turned to him as he took a seat next to her. 

‘You knew about this, didn’t you? What the end plan was for us,’ she asked. 

Draco gave her a small nod. ‘I overheard diabolical things at Malfoy Manor. Yaxley never spoke to me like that in the original timeline. I suppose, after what happened with Dumbledore he realised I wasn’t like them..’ he trailed off. 

Hermione shook her head. ‘He’s twisted. He is actually insane. How can anyone talk like that about another person?'

Draco gave her a heavy look. 'There are so many others out there like him. Like Tom. That sort of talk was common in the Manor.'

'He was bragging about buyers. They've already got a fucking list and we're still months away from the Ministry falling,' Hermione seethed.  

‘It was knowing for certain what they truly were that made me come to my senses.'

She took his hand in hers and gave him a sorrowful look. ‘We have to stop this. I mean it. Whatever it takes, we stop that. We stop him. All of them.’ 

Draco pulled her closer and hugged her tightly. ‘We will. Whatever it takes we'll stop this.'  

'I'm getting the names of every last one of them involved in this,' she whispered. 'Defeating Riddle is one thing. They are something else. I refuse to let even one of them get away with this. I'm going to hunt down every last one of those buyers when this is over. Yaxley and his associates already deserve the Dementors kiss. He's already murdered seven women. I can't even begin to imagine how many others have suffered.'

Draco rubbed her back in soothing motions.

She hugged him back. She was more shaken up than she could have predicted. War was one thing. The battlefield was a violent place. Even with all she had lived through, Yaxley’s plans for those sent to Azkaban was making her skin crawl. It was a fate worse than death. 

'You had to live with those people?' she asked him in a quivering voice. 

'Yes,' he said in a low tone. 

She stood and pulled him closer to her and held him tight. 

They stood together in a close embrace as she slowly calmed down. 

'I wanted to kill him,' she whispered. 'I actually wanted to murder him.' 

'I know. Pettigrew used to look at Luna in this creepy little way that made me sick. If you lot hadn't rescued her when you did I would have poisoned him if he'd crossed the line with her.' 

Hermione gripped his body tighter to hers. 

Draco rubbed little circles into her back as they held onto each other.  

Dumbledore had returned to his office and stood for a long moment watching the two of them support each other. 

He had a hopeful expression on his face at this sight. 

Chapter Text

‘You must be careful with him,’ Colin said as he passed his camera over to Draco with an anxious expression. 

Draco gave him a reassuring smile. ‘I will be. I’m taking some photographs of the castle for my parents. You’ll have it back tonight. Thanks, Colin.’ 

The camera would be perfectly safe. Hermione would be in charge of it all day. 

‘Ok. Bye, Bertie. I’ll see you later,’ Colin said to the camera as he patted it gently. He looked at Draco with a pensive face. He then bit his lip and then turned and scampered off. 

Draco very carefully put it in his bag and then left the Gryffindor common room to meet Hermione. 

Their day trip to Diagon Alley was imminent. 

It was early on a Saturday morning. They were going incognito. Strictly speaking, they weren’t supposed to leave Hogwarts but they were both feeling a little trapped.

The chilling conversation with Yaxley had unsettled both of them. Hermione especially. Anyone who stood against Tom and his followers was at great risk. Even at this stage of the timeline, Draco was more vulnerable than most of capture.

Hermione at least had the illusion of being Draco to offer her some protection. Draco, now he was her, was almost as big a target as Harry was. 

She was worried sick for both of them. 

They had initially discussed using polyjuice for this day trip, but Hermione had thought that a few simple adjustments and glamours would suffice. 

‘I don’t want to waste any of it,’ she had said this so smoothly to him that Draco’s ears had gone red. The implications were clear. 

He had gazed at her as she had run her fingers down his robe.

‘We can use the Crinus Muto spell for our hair,’ she had murmured. ‘I’ll go longer and dark brown. You can go blonde. We can change our eye colour and wear glasses. A few alterations to our facial features will be more than sufficient. I’ll go casual. If I’m not in a suit we won’t be recognisable.’ 

Draco had looked at her thoroughly stirred by this. ‘You want to risk it so we don’t miss our next date?’ 

‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘It won’t be a risk though. I’m very adept.’ 

‘I’m very sure you are, Miss Granger,’ he had said in an alluring tone. 

The tension had been palpable between them all week. 

Draco smiled to himself as he thought of her. He went to meet her near the portrait that would take them to the secret passage. 

Yaxley had broken into their little world with his sordid bile. Draco had come back to earth with a bump. 

It had made him even more determined to fight against this. The time he was spending with Hermione was precious. 

He reached the portrait and waited. The tunnels would be sealed soon. He thought of the buyer list and shuddered.  He knew there had been no exaggeration in the man’s plans. This nightmare world would happen if they failed. So many lives relied upon them. 

He looked down at himself. He was dressed simply. They were both taking some plain robes with them. He took a deep breath. Hermione needed him to face this. She was just as vulnerable as he was. She could only pretend to be him for so long. He knew how that felt. Sooner or later the mask had to come off. Any dissent in Tom's ranks would not be tolerated. 

He saw himself appear in front of him. She was dressed in a simple polo shirt and jeans. He looked very much unlike himself already. They wasted no time in disappearing behind the portrait and to the privacy of the narrow, rocky tunnel. 

They quickly lit a Lumos each and faced each other. 

He handed her the camera.

‘Colin seemed most anxious that Bertie is well looked after.’ 

Hermione grinned at him. 'I'll guard him with my life.' 

They spent a moment taking each other in. 

She was becoming so familiar to Draco now. He felt more whole when she was with him. 

Hermione walked quietly next to him and then held out her hand to him silently. He took it without preamble. The magic between them greeted each other fondly. 

Hermione was a little quiet as they made their way through the dark, rocky tunnel. Her thumb smoothly stroked the disillusioned Slytherin signet ring. It was her favourite and she'd become quite attached to it over time. It comforted her in her weaker moments. She hadn't wanted to take it off. It was a bit of Draco with her at all times. 

‘Are you alright?’ he asked her cautiously. 

‘Oh, yes,’ she murmured. ‘I was just thinking.’

‘About?’ he asked. 

She stopped in the tunnel and turned to him. She'd debated with herself whether to discuss this with him. The magic convinced her this was right. 

‘I must confess something. It wasn’t deliberate and I wasn’t sneaking around your things, but I read your poem.’ 

Draco felt his heart flutter at that.

‘I kind of thought that perhaps you had.’ 

He saw the ghost of a smile. 

‘You were looking at me differently. I felt something had changed in the air,’ Draco told her.  

‘Do you still mean those words you wrote?’ 

‘I do. If it’s possible, even more.’ 

Hermione gazed into brown eyes. ‘Go on.’

‘You make everything better. I didn’t know…’ he trailed off. 

‘You didn’t know what?’ she asked gently. 

I didn’t know I was capable of feeling this. When I’m with you I feel stronger. It’s strange. I’m shorter than I’ve been in years, but I feel so much tougher.’

‘Maybe that’s because you know now what your fighting for.’ 

He gave her a small smile. 

Her eyes raked over him. ‘I think I’m starting to know you better than most. You’re very much a Slytherin. You’re ambitious. Resourceful. You have a lot of pride. But I can feel what you felt in the future. Your heart wasn’t in it. You were repelled by what you were witnessing. I do know that whatever your goal is in life if you can’t give your whole self to it, it will backfire. You can’t have ambition if you have no desire to reach the end goal.’ 

Draco felt a shiver. ‘What part did you like the most?

Hermione moved her fingers down his face. ‘All of it. Although, infinite joy was my favourite bit.’ 

He grinned at her. 

‘I’m not very romantic,’ she said with a slight frown. ‘I know what I feel for you inside me is strong, but I don’t know if I could write you words like that.’ 

‘You were a little weak-kneed with Viktor. You do have that inside of you. With all due respect what you and Ron had was...' he trailed off.

'Was what?' she asked curiously. 

'Maybe you don’t think you’re romantic because he didn’t know how to bring that side out in you.’  

Hermione stilled at that. It was so bloody obvious. Ron still gobbled his grub down with an open mouth in front of her. She felt a knot of revulsion in her stomach at the mere thought of it. Even at Shell cottage when they prepared for the break-in at Gringotts he had still crammed his food in and she had been very delicate. She had seen animals with better table manners. Surely he knew on some level how unattractive that was to witness? Everyone had told him how ghastly it was. He had paid zero attention. 

‘Has he ever once danced with you?’ he asked her. ‘Did he ever ask you out on a dinner date? Did you ever even go for a walk around the black lake together or sneak off to a broom cupboard for a snog in all the years you've known him? Did you two do anything together that was normal?’

She shook her head and peered at him in the dim light.

'Oh, wait. We held hands once when we sleeping in the drawing-room at Grimmauld Place with Harry.' 

Draco lifted his eyebrows. 'I, er. Right. Um.' 

The flabbergasted look on Draco's face had her give a small snigger. 'Yeah, I know. When I speak about it out loud it does seem odd.' 

Draco shrugged. ‘People vary in how they approach dating. I do know that how you are with me will be different to how you were with Viktor and Ron.’ 

This was a fair assessment. 

‘You know my flaws,’ she murmured. ‘I can get carried away. I’m sometimes too blunt. I can be demanding of people. I’ve tried to be better but sometimes that impulse to kick people up the ass is automatic.’ 

Draco gave her a rather wry look. ‘Look at my life. Look at my past, my home, my family. You know what I am. You've seen me at my worst.’ 

Hermione put her hand on his arm. ‘I felt what you felt, Draco. That wasn’t you. Not really.’ 

‘Part of it was,’ Draco said in a quiet voice. ‘I do have regrets. There were times I pushed things. I do have some of my father in me. I liked to throw my weight around. I have a side to me that isn’t nice. I know I’ll never go back to being that bad but I don’t know if it ever really leaves you.’ 

Hermione nodded. ‘Ditto. The more I see of this world, we do need to have that in us. Still, those people that truly matter to you, you do treat them well.’

Draco sighed. ‘Some. With time to think I remember what an utter prick I was to Crabbe and Goyle. I was always putting them down. I was always irritated by them.’ 

‘Well, they’re very different to you.’ 

‘Not so different,’ he mused out loud. ‘I just know when to stop. They don’t.’

Hermione smiled at him. ‘That is so different.’

Draco gave her a thoughtful look at that. 

‘You and Harry. Any thoughts on how that's going?' Hermione asked. 

Draco smiled at her. ‘Harry and I are ok. I don’t think we’ll ever be best friends but we’ve moved on from what we were. He knows who I am now. We can deal with this. Both of us know what’s at stake. The Vortex helped. He knows for certain I’ve got his back. That’s what matters most to Harry. Loyalty. After what Pettigrew did to his parents and Sirius, I do understand that.’

Hermione stroked his arm.

‘I will never be a Pettigrew, ever. I’d rather die. Although you need to know I’m not suddenly going to change into Mr Perfect. I’m not, by nature, a humble guy. That’s not who I am. I don’t want you to assume that I’ll suddenly turn into a lovely chap. I’m not suddenly going to be hugging Hufflepuffs.’

Hermione grinned at him. ‘I don’t know about that. You seemed to like hugging Hannah Abbott an awful lot.’

Draco beamed at her. ‘She’s such a firecracker. She’s got her eyes on Longbottom. She told me. Did you know?’

‘Really?’ Hermione asked with interest.

‘It took him ages to realise she fancied him,’ Draco told her. ‘She kept visiting him in the greenhouse. He thought she was just very interested in plants all of a sudden. Pansy told me that they got together in the seventh year.’

Hermione nodded at that as she looked at his smiling face. 

‘I think you’re a nicer guy than you think you are,’ she told him. 

Draco pondered this. ‘I’m not Draco Malfoy right now. It’s been a relief in some ways. I didn’t realise till we swapped just how much the weight of that holds me down. It’s been nice in some ways to be free of him.’ 

‘Precisely,’ Hermione told him. ‘Without all the bad stuff in your life, this is a side to you that’s real.’ 

Draco nodded at her as he brushed her fringe across. 

‘I'm well aware that you're not a sweet, lovely kitten. That’s the point. I don’t want sugar and spice and all things nice. You’re assertive. You know your mind. You’re blunt and opinionated. You can be a little short-tempered. You certainly don’t suffer fools. You’re so much more than that though. You do need to know this for yourself, Hermione. You are not cruel. You are loyal. You love. You’re so brave. You are so many brilliant things.’ 

She wrapped herself around him at that. 

‘I need to prove myself to you,’ he murmured. ‘I will prove myself.’ 

‘You already are,’ she said to him in the quiet of the tunnel.

It wasn’t long after that the couple were taking photographs in Diagon Alley. It was too quiet now. Most of the shops were boarded up. The Weasley joke shop stood out even more now. A dark feeling lingered over them. A few witches and wizards scuttled about. What was the most chilling was they had seen no children. No parent would dare let their young ones walk in Diagon Alley anymore. 

It was a sobering thought. 

Hermione was operating the camera with good precision. She had used it several times before. Draco was pointing out the buildings they had discovered had been built and designed by the muggleborns. 

When one looked a little closer there were slight variations. The muggleborn houses had slightly larger windows. The colours tended to be lighter too. 

Hermione took the shots as they made their way up Diagon Alley.

They both saw Ollivander’s shop boarded up. It was a stark reminder of how close the war was. 

Hermione noticed Mundungus Fletcher lurking around near Knockturn Alley. He looked a little shifty with an old briefcase before he disappeared. 

‘We’ll leave Knockturn alone,’ she said. 

‘Yes, good idea.’ 

Draco had noticed several Azkaban escapees in the shadows. The Ministry hadn’t been reporting on the sheer volume of them that had escaped. He knew more would be broken out in the coming months.

The Azkaban escapees, Travers, Macnair and Dolohov were further down. That they could be so brazen walking about in the open didn’t speak well of the standards currently in the Wizarding World. 

Scrimgeour had been killed on the 1st of August 1997 in the original timeline. His reign had left a bad legacy. He had given the impression of being tougher than Fudge had been. He'd tried to give the illusion everything was under control and that people were safe. It had been foolish. He had spent more time having Dumbledore followed. He had been avoiding the very real problems that had been growing under his nose.

The Death Eaters were lurking everywhere in the Ministry. High ranking officials were already under the Imperius charm. 

Pius Thicknesse was currently the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. He had been chosen by Tom to be the future puppet Minister and was due to go under an Imperius charm soon. Draco had gone into detail with Albus with all he knew of the timeline. Yaxley had been the one to put the charm on him. 

Hermione took a few more shots of the properties, but the mood in the alley was taking its toll on her. Flourish and Blott's was empty. The sight of the lonely looking book shop broke her heart a little.

‘I remember the first time I saw this place,’ she sighed out to Draco. ‘It seemed like another world. I was so happy. Now look at it.’ 

Draco looked up the street. He wasn’t averse to the darkness of Knockturn Alley. He had grown up surrounded by illegal magical artefacts. He didn’t have the fear of them that many of his contemporaries did. He had understood from a young age that it wasn’t the magic itself that was dangerous. It was the person using it that was the threat. 

There were many interesting things to be discovered with magic, both dark and light. He had also liked the contrast. Like Hannah, he found a thrill in walking on the wild side occasionally. The dark magic could be sensual and powerful. It reached out around you and soothed you. He also knew it was equally comforting to know one could always go back to the light and more serene surroundings. If Riddle got his way there would be no going back. 

He looked down the list. ‘Just seventy-two left,’ he murmured. 

Hermione nodded as they meandered down the alley. Neither of them was concerned about being recognised. They both wore non-descript robes and looked older and very unlike themselves. 

They came to a small cottage that looked a little out of place. Hermione took several more photographs at different angles and then took a step back. 

‘That’s it,’ she said with an air of finality.

Draco watched her carefully put Bertie back in her bag. He watched with interest as she shrunk the bag and then put it in her robe pocket.

He watched her shoulders slump a little. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I was looking forward to today but seeing the alley like this has depressed me.’ 

Draco followed her eye line and could admit it wasn’t a sight that was in any way cheerful. Not that long ago mothers would have been walking with their children down this street. 

‘Shall we get lunch at the Leaky Cauldron? We can head back after,’ he asked. 

Hermione took his hand and squeezed it. 'Sure.' 

The atmosphere was getting to them both. That ominous expectation of bad things was in the air. Everyone in their world knew the Dark Lord had returned. The Ministry was fragmented. The attacks were rising. It was the sheer incompetence of the Ministry that was making people nervous. Fudge had to see Voldemort in person to even get things moving. He had been chased from his office. It was too little, too late now.

The dark side had been given a massive head start while the Ministry had dithered for months. 

As they walked together Hermione’s eyes were furtively looking around.

Her own actions made her shake her own head. ‘He lurks in the background. He makes us feel like we’re all sitting ducks. This is what he does. He puts people on edge. One man can do this to thousands of people. Why is that?’ 

‘It isn’t just him. He’s just the figurehead. There are others who are just as cruel. They just lack his reputation and his abilities,’ Draco murmured. 

‘Tom is only part of the problem, isn’t he?’ she whispered. 

Draco nodded. ‘His reputation frightens people senseless. He’s the monster under the bed.’ 

Hermione took a deep breath. ‘Does he frighten you?’ 

‘Yes. He intimidates me. When he's near me, I can feel him everywhere. It’s like all the air in the room leaves when he walks in. It’s suffocating to be around him. I can’t let history repeat itself though. Harry is our best chance. Tom has always been paranoid about him. Dumbledore knows more now than he did. I’d rather take my chances with them. Even if I hadn’t been sent to Azkaban a life under Riddle's rule isn’t a life I want to live. I’ve been given the choice. I hope it doesn't come to it but I'd rather fight and die with some dignity. I can’t serve the man who murdered my parents. I can’t contribute to his filth. I can do something to help. I already have. I’ve made peace with my choice.’ 

Hermione took this in as they walked into the pub. 

Tom the barman looked more haggard than he normally did. A few people sat around, keeping very much to themselves. 

Tom's eyes didn’t show any recognition of either of them but he was clearly more than a little cautious of strangers judging by his nervous movements and shaky voice with them both.  

Draco kept it polite which seemed to relax him a little. There was a definite tension in the air that was palpable. 

They ordered and then sat at a corner table away from the others as Hermione looked around her in deep thought. 

It was so different now than it had been.  

Draco sat quietly. ‘What are you thinking?’ 

‘Things need to change.’

‘They will,’ Draco told her. ‘They already are. These things take time though.’ 

Hermione sighed. ‘Time. It will get better. I’ve heard the mantras. I know all this. It seems this blood war has been dragging on for decades.’ 

Draco took her hand. ‘It goes back to the dark ages when the muggles did awful things to us. It was them and us. Times change but that hostility is still there. Things are getting better. Our generation is better than it was. Riddle has pushed a lot of the more moderate purebloods away from him because of his methods.’

‘How do you mean?’ she asked. 

‘The violence and the cruelty of the Death Eaters repelled a lot of families who had once been pro pureblood. If they’re anything like me, most of them want him gone too. The first war was bad enough. He’s doing it again. The purebloods are seeing the real consequences of Death Eater prejudice. Once you see it happening in front of you, it changes people. Well, normal people anyway.’ 

She looked down at his hand in hers. ‘Look at how many of them wanted to pretend Harry was making his return up. He was back and they didn’t want to see. They looked the other way.’

Draco nodded. ‘They’re frightened.’

‘So many of them are weak. The students at Hogwarts have more bravery than most of them working at the Ministry. At least we have the D.A,’ she said in a firm voice.

‘Hermione. They’re not as brave as you and Harry. Your classmates have grown up with you. They know Harry. He's a fighter. It's clear he'd much rather not be Harry Potter but he's taken that on. Luckily for all of you, he's a natural leader. He gives all of you strength. You have grown up with the Order of the Phoenix and, even though it also pains me to say it, the Weasleys. They’re not cowards. I think you take it for granted that everyone in the Wizarding World should have their courage. They don't. Even Ron has more courage than most.’

Hermione lifted an eyebrow at hearing this one positive comment from Draco about Ron being uttered. 

‘There’s lots of grey in our world,’ Draco said to her with a light smile. ‘I don’t like him. He's obnoxious, but I do believe that Ron will stick with Harry to the end. I’m not blind. I’ve seen him in the visions. He was by your side at the Ministry. He stood up to Sirius in the shack when you all thought he was the traitor. Even though he was a total prick for weeks and a dolt for leaving you both, he still came back to help you.’ 

Hermione looked at him curiously. 

Draco sighed. ‘Ron is not capable of doing to another person what Yaxley and the others are. Not even to one of them, let alone an innocent. Ron is a self-centred, immature prat in many ways, but he’s not like them. It’s the Yaxleys that need to be stopped.'

Hermione nodded at that. 

Draco peered at her. 'My fuck-ups could fill a book but I'm not like them either. Even if I hated someone there are lines that I wouldn't cross. If destiny is on our side we’re going to need as many of us to stand against them in the future. Even if we defeat Riddle, they’re always going to be there. The Ministry is already crumbling. More and more of his followers are escaping every week from Azkaban. The Dementors have already left. They're not putting that in the Daily Prophet. They're not putting a lot of things in there. It’s going to take time to rebuild even if we stopped this tomorrow.’

Hermione looked forlorn at that. 

Draco stroked her hand with his fingers. ‘Riddle is the head of the snake. We need to take him down, but the others will be amongst us for years.’ 

Hermione sighed at the truth of those words. 'We'll get them. All of them. I'll get hold of a copy of Yaxley's book. I will bring them to justice.' 

Draco nodded gently at her positivity. He had no doubts she would. 

Tom brought their food over and they thanked him.  

Hermione looked closely at him. He didn’t look like he was sleeping well.

A large shadow loomed behind him. 

Hermione felt her breath hitch as she saw the black robe. 

‘Has Pritchard been in here recently?’ came a caustic voice. 

Draco kept himself motionless. He, unfortunately, recognised that voice.

Travers was behind Tom. 

Tom seemed to flinch. ‘Not seen him,’ he said in a low tone. 

Travers stood uncomfortably close behind him. 

‘Now, now, Tom. I think you answered that a little too quickly. I’ll ask again. Have you seen Pritchard recently?’ 

Two more robed figures moved nearer to them. 

‘He, er, no. I’ve not seen him in weeks,’ Tom said in a raspy voice. 

Draco and Hermione watched Tom jolt forwards as his arm was lifted behind his back. Tom let out a groan of pain.

Draco could just make out a wand prodding into his back. 

‘Interesting. A little bird told us he was in here last night. So you are either becoming very forgetful in your old age, or you are lying to me. Which is it?’ 

The harsh voice was mocking now. 

Draco looked beyond Tom as Dolohov and Macnair moved closer. They looked even more menacing than he remembered. 

Hermione had flinched at the sight of Dolohov. This man had almost killed her. She’d lost count of the number of potions she’d had to drink to recover. 

Tom was staring at nothing. His jaw was clenched shut.

‘Where is the mudblood?’ Travers seethed into his ear. 

‘I don’t know,’ Tom said in a whisper. 

Travers slammed Tom’s head onto the table as MacNair and Dolohov surrounded them. 

Draco and Hermione watched their meals fly off the table. 

Draco went for his wand as Hermione quickly grabbed his hand under the table. She lifted her right eyebrow. It was a signal they had devised between them. It meant to play along.  

Travers pushed Tom's head down hard onto the table and held it there. 

He seemed to suddenly notice them both as a ghoulish expression passed his face on seeing Draco. 

‘What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?’ Travers asked her in a mordant tone.

Draco saw the edge of MacNairs wand holding his wand steady at him. Dolohov had them trapped on the other side. 

Tom was now shaking on the table. 

Dolohov was watching him with an amused face.

They heard the door swing shut as the few patrons in the pub had scuttled off.  

‘She’s not one of ours, that’s for sure,’ MacNair jeered. ‘I’ve never seen her before in my life.’  

Travers gave a mocking expression to Draco who stared silently back. He wondered what Hermione had up her sleeve. 

Travers’s turned his attention back to Tom. 'One last time. Where is he?' he barked out to the barman. 

Tom stayed silent.

They watched as he was then pulled up by Travers and then pushed roughly into the wall where they all heard the crack of his skull as it hit stone. He slumped to the floor, unconscious. 

Draco’s eyes widened in panic as he looked down and then felt intense pain as large hands grabbed his neck. 

'We can have some fun while we wait for him to wake up from his nap,' came Dolohov's voice in his ear. 

Draco felt his arms swinging helplessly with the jarring motion.

He couldn’t breathe out a spell. He couldn't reach his wand. Dolohov was strangling him. 

Hermione had been watching this unfold with growing panic. She hoped brains would beat brawn. 

With Draco’s familiar drawl she spoke. ‘Dolohov, you fucking imbecile. Put her down now.’ 

'What the?' came Dolohov's voice but he released his hold. 

Draco felt the immense relief of being able to consume oxygen again. 

Travers turned to Hermione with shock. ‘Malfoy? Is that you?’ 

Hermione gave him a smile worthy of the Dark Lord as she lifted her sleeve and tapped it to reveal the Dark Mark. The serpent writhed on her arm. She undid the spell on her hair and the infamous platinum blonde locks appeared. With a final flourish, the glamours were gone. The Slytherin ring caught their attention.

The aggressive mood changed immediately to one more casual. 

Draco felt his heartbeat settle down a little. 

‘Aren’t you supposed to be at Hogwarts? I thought you lot were locked down,’ Travers asked in a sullen tone. 

Hermione snorted with derision. ‘As if those measly protections would hold me. I fancied a weekend in London. You've interrupted my meal, Travers.’

‘Sorry, Malfoy. We’re hunting down a few rebel miscreants. They’ve been causing us some bother with the few legit Auror’s left.’ 

Hermione shrugged. ‘Those rebels will get what's coming to them very soon. You’ve fucked up the barman. You've ruined my lunch. I was in the middle of booking a room before you disturbed us. Can you fix him back up? I've paid well for my present company and I don't want to waste any more time than I have to.’ 

The three Death Eaters understood immediately the nature of Draco's visit to London. 

Travers leered at Draco as Dolohov and Macnair gave him such greedy looks that made his skin crawl. 

Macnair leant down and began to attend to the barman as Hermione gave a sigh of irritation. Within a few moments, Tom was coming around.

Macnair propped him up in the chair as they waited for his eyes to become less glazed. 

‘So, you got a name, darling?’ Dolohov said in a raspy voice as his eyes raked down Draco.

Draco had gone mute at this very alarming attempt of flirtation.  

'Can't she speak, Malfoy?' Travers asked. 

Hermione ran her hand through Draco’s hair in a rather intimate way. ‘You're confusing her, Travers. Her orders are clear. She's only to respond when I ask her a direct question. For today, I'm all that exists in her world. Isn’t that right, my sweet?’ 

‘Yes, Mr Malfoy,’ Draco said quietly. 

Hermione gave them all a lofty look. ‘She's so polite. So eager to please me. She'll do anything I want her to.'

Travers was watching Draco with a disquieting stare. 

Hermione turned to Draco and gave him a smarmy smile. 'You'll be even more well mannered to me when I get you upstairs, won't you, darling?’ she said with a pompous tone. 

Draco gave Hermione an empty smile. 'Yes, Mr Malfoy.' 

Hermione turned to them with a boastful tone. 'A little of the Imperius curse also goes a long way. I consider it insurance. My demands can be a little much, even for a bought and paid for whore.' 

This seemed to placate the three Death Eaters who stared at Hermione with approval. 

‘Where do you get her?’ Macnair asked. ‘Did you pick her off the street?’ 

‘I don't pick randoms of the street, Macnair.' Hermione said this with a bite. 'Salazar knows what I could catch. Besides, I’m being discreet. I don’t want any nonsense with dealing with what’s left of law and order in the Ministry. Not at such a delicate time anyway. I’d advise you to do the same,’ she said curtly. 

‘Well, where did you get her?’ Travers asked as his eyes stared at Draco. 

‘Father has an associate in the city,’ Hermione murmured.

Macnair gave Draco a salacious look.  

'They understand that I have very high standards and very specific needs. They provide me with women that can be accommodating to my particular requirements.' 

Hermione lifted her wand and slapped it on her palm and gave Travers a savage look.

Draco cringed at that. The spiteful expression he saw on his own face looked far too reminiscent of Riddle. 

Travers eyeballed Hermione who maintained her bravado. 

‘Does your acquaintance have any other pretty things like her for sale?’ Travers asked outright. 

Hermione gave a bark of laughter. ‘You couldn’t afford her.’ 

Draco had never felt so much like a piece of meat. 

Draco kept a rigid face on at being spoken about like this. He went along with Hermione’s plan. The others already had their wands out. It was two against three and he knew these three were capable of anything. 

Travers and Dolohov were still staring at him. 

MacNair was standing a dazed-looking Tom up. 

‘He’ll live,’ the dark wizard muttered. 

‘Start talking. Where is Pritchard?’ Travers began. 

Tom gave him a defiant look. 

‘Let me,’ Hermione said as she approached the barman. Tom shrank back from her. 

‘Tom. Greetings,’ she said in a mocking tone. 

Tom had a lump already forming on his head. 

‘I said, I don’t know anything about Pritchard,’ he said defiantly. 

Hermione sneered at him. ‘I’m not playing these ridiculous fucking games with you. I know you know where he is.’ 

They watched as she lifted her wand and pointed it at him. 

‘Legilimens.’ she hissed. 

Draco stood rigid with an empty face. To his knowledge, Hermione didn't know that spell. He knew some of it but not enough yet to perform the spell successfully. 

Tom felt his skull vibrate as he hissed in pain. 

Travers watched with interest at who he thought was Draco. 

Tom’s pupils enlarged as his jaw shook. 

Hermione pulled her wand away after a few minutes, privately satisfied. The silent confundus she had administered seemed to have done the trick by imitating the signs of a mind being read. 

‘Pritchard is gone. It looks like he’s getting out of the country. He’s going by plane.’ 

‘What's a plane?’ Travers asked. 

Hermione gazed at him. ‘One of those big, flying bird things the muggles travel in. He is probably on his way to America by now. The European mainland is too close. You can let the Dark Lord know he’s no longer your problem.’ 

Travers looked at her admiringly. ‘I didn’t know you had mastered legilimency.’ 

‘Snape has been teaching me. He’s impressed by my abilities. He said I’m a natural,’ she bragged. 

Tom was looking at her with sullen eyes. 

Hermione glowered at him. ‘Next time we ask you a question, answer it properly you stupid little man. We will get the answers from you, one way or the other,’ she spat. 

Tom looked away from her with resentment on his face. 

Hermione stood up and stretched.

‘Clean yourself up, bring me another meal and then sort me a room out. You’ve already wasted enough of my time,’ she said with a dismissive tone.  

Draco gulped. Hermione was truly being the most obnoxious Lord of the Manor possible. 

Hermione sat back down at the table and leant back and beckoned at Draco.

'You. Sit back down.'

Draco heard his most haughty drawl in his ears. 

He began to move slowly away from Travers who grabbed at his robe with his meaty hand and then leant down.

Draco was never more aware of how short Hermione was at that moment. The Death Eater towered over him. 

'You'd best be very accomodating to Mr Malfoy if you know what's good for you,' Travers slurred in his ear as Draco felt his stomach churn. 

Travers let go as Draco tried to focus on anything but his presence. 

Draco slipped into the chair next to Hermione and lowered his eyes. 

‘Hey, Malfoy. If you need any assistance, you know where we are.’ McNair said in a deep voice. 

Hermione gave the typically sardonic laugh of the Death Eater.

‘I won’t need any help. Get your own slut.’  

Draco cringed and tried to ignore the disrespectful laughter of the Death Eaters. 

‘They’ll come a time when we'll have our pick of any woman we want,’ Macnair murmured as his eyes took on a demonic quality.  

Hermione gave him a sinister smile. ‘I'm well aware. Yaxley and I had a very enlightening talk. I’m keeping a low profile for now. Hence the disguise. In time all our masks can come off.’  

Travers nodded knowingly. ‘Getting practice already, Malfoy?’ 

Hermione arrogantly lifted her chin. ‘I don't need practice, Travers.'

Draco watched himself with twisted fascination. Hermione played warped Draco very well. This was the Draco he might have been if he’d had more dark in him. He looked at the wand she was casually twirling in her fingers as she conversed with Death Eaters. He was struck by just how much she resembled his father in better times. 

Tom scuttled off behind the bar as he furtively gave them all a frightened look. 

Hermione took her wand out and reapplied her disguise and covered up the dark mark. 

‘Gentleman. I shall see you all later,’ she said in a dismissive tone. 

‘As you were, Malfoy,’ Travers said as he gave Draco a good look up and down. 

‘You make sure you do whatever he tells you to do,’ Dolohov said with a gloating look to Draco. 

‘Oh, she will. You understand what's expected of you, don't you?’ Hermione gave Draco a mocking look. She picked her wand up and ran her fingers up it in a lurid motion. 

Macnair gave Hermione a look of supreme jealousy. 

Draco watched a thuggish expression flicker over his own face as he flinched back. He had never seen himself look so ugly. 

‘Yes, Mr Malfoy.’ 

'You're making her very nervous,' Macnair said in a hungry tone.

'It's better when they're nervous,' Hermione said in a boastful tone. 'It shows they really don't want to disappoint me. They try so much harder.' 

‘It looks like you may be an asset to the Dark Lord, after all, Draco,’ Travers murmured with an underlying tone of respect. 

Hermione gave him a swift nod and a grim smile. 

The three Death Eaters left them as Hermione leant back in the chair with her arms spread over the backs of the chairs and exuding all the supreme arrogance of a Malfoy on top. 

The doors shut behind them. One beat later and Draco watched her rush across the room and quickly bolt it shut. 

She turned her wand to the rest of the room and rotated it.

‘Homenum revelio,’ 

Nothing happened. 

She seemed to be having an internal fight with herself. 

‘Draco. Wait here,’ she whispered. 

He watched Hermione approach Tom and press her wand to the lump on his head. 

He was staring at her with confusion. 

'Episkey,' she said.

White magic flowed around his head. 

‘It should help a little with the pain,’ she murmured.  

Tom’s eyes were swivelling to the door and back. 

Hermione looked at him with compassion. ‘I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you. They had to believe I’m him.’ 

‘Who are you? You did a silent confundus charm on me. You didn't go in my mind. You're not Malfoy,’ he whispered. 

‘I’m a friend. Pritchard is safe, for now anyway. Quick thinking playing along by the way. Thanks. I apologise but I need to wipe your memory of the last ten minutes. It's vital for all our sakes.’ 

Tom gave her a shaky look. ‘These are desperate times. You’re against him. That’s all I need to know. Ok. Do it.’ 

Draco watched as Tom sat down at a table and then Hermione performed the obliviate spell. 

Tom’s eyes became unfocused and dreamy as Hermione stepped away. 

‘Let’s go. I think the Vortex has gotten rid of the trace on us, but I don’t want anyone walking in and seeing us. We’ll get some food from somewhere else,’ she whispered. 

Draco was only too happy to leave the Leaky Cauldron. 

‘I know a little park on the other side of London,’ Hermione said. ‘Hold my hand.’ 

They apparated and then landed in a quiet park.

After taking a few deep breaths to settle their nerves, they began to walk slowly across it. 

‘Are you alright?’ she asked him. 

Draco side-eyed her. ‘I have never felt so violated in my life.’ 

‘I'm so sorry. I know how unpleasant that was to listen to. Believe me, I know. I had to make something up on the fly. I wasn’t expecting three of them at the same time. It was the first thing that came into my head. Yaxley was fresh in my mind. I knew debauchery and being a complete bastard would be the easiest way to convince them I'm not up to anything. I didn't want them asking too many questions about you either.’

'It worked. That's what matters,' he said in a weary voice. 

Draco watched her concerned face and stopped them and motioned to a bench.

They both sat down as Draco put his hand on her arm. 

'It’s alright, Hermione. We were outnumbered. Tom was vulnerable. You did what you had to.’ 

She gave him a glum smile. ‘It’s all so seedy how they live. I’m afraid I already know from personal experience how they operate.’

Draco gave a small nod. He had seen the vision of the snatchers and their lecherous ways. 

‘You make a good Death Eater, Hermione,’ he said in a droll tone. 

Hermione gave a dry laugh that didn't have any actual humour in it. ‘I just mimic the worst ones I’ve met. Yaxley, Fenrir. I mainly act like Tom does with a Lord of the Manor twist,’ she added quietly. 

Draco accepted that. Lucius had been very offensive to her when she was younger.  

‘Do you ever think of me when you need to imitate a Death Eater?’ he asked in a very quiet voice. 

‘A little with the arrogant bragging, but you're not who comes to my mind when I'm playing the real thing. I focus on what words and actions make me repulsed,’ Hermione said in a quiet voice.

His eyebrows lifted as he gestured to her to continue. 

She shrugged. ‘I don’t think you ever frightened me in all the years I've known you. For the longest time, if I ever did think of you it was as that annoying ponce in Slytherin.’ 

Draco gave her a mock shocked face. ‘I resent that. I was super intimidating.’ 

She gave him a wry smile. 

‘Something about you was different to them. Don’t misunderstand, you pissed me off a great deal. Don’t get me started on the Inquisitorial squad shenanigans. I loathed you for quite some time. You were very irritating.’ 

Draco felt the familiar sensation of shame rush through him.

She took his hand. ‘You never really knew who you were. You were stuck with those two thugs as friends. You were surrounded by blood propaganda from birth. The older you got, the more I saw you fighting it. There was all that attention you paid Harry. It went past just being on different sides. It seemed to me to be bordering on jealousy at times. It was like you were trying in some weird way to get closer to him. Harry represents the light side to you. Maybe you weren’t even aware of it at the time.’

Draco took that in. His feelings for Harry had deviated across the spectrum over the years. 

Hermione looked over at the trees in the park. A few birds were pecking away in the short grass. There were only a few people walking around. The day was quite chilly.  

‘When I'm close to a Death Eater, I can feel their evil in every pore. I felt it from Bellatrix,’ she murmured. 

Draco stilled. Hermione didn’t like to discuss her.

‘It’s inside her,’ Hermione said softly. ‘Pure, potent evil. Like you said earlier about how you feel about being around Riddle. It’s suffocating being that close to it. You can feel it seeping inside you. It’s very jarring. When she was on top of me, I felt dirty. Like I'd never be clean again. I felt her in my bones. I still feel her sometimes.’ 

Draco understood. 'Azkaban made Bellatrix even worse than she was. I've seen photographs of her when she was young. She used to be a very charismatic, refined woman. A lady to the Manor born. What she's become is difficult to make sense of.'

'It's the dark magic,' Hermione said quietly. 'Too much of it and it corrupts completely.'

Draco nodded. 'She had such a fall from grace. I can barely recognise her now. She's completely unhinged. Mother doesn't like to discuss her sister with me. I don't want to either. We pretend to ignore what she's become.'  

Hermione peered at him, ‘Yaxley reeks of the dark. Travers, Dolohov, Macnair. Crabbe and Goyle always make me tense. It’s something I know well by now. I never felt that with you.' 

He put his hand on her thigh as they both felt the tingles. 

They sat quietly for a long moment. 

‘I did get the desire to slap you many times,’ she sniggered. 

He gave her a fake sulky look in return and squeezed her knee which sent a nice thrill through both of them.  

‘It’s over now, Draco. The doubts about who we truly are. We’re both older and wiser.’ 

‘Are you feeling better now?’ he asked. 

‘Yes. I was a bit shaken, but I’m alright.’ 

‘Look on the bright side. Whoever Pritchard is, you’ve bought him some time,’ Draco said. 

‘I hope I did the right thing. I do worry about the butterfly effect,’ she said. ‘The little changes we keep making must be affecting things.’ 

‘That couldn't be helped. You did what you had to do. It’s war. Things get messy. You told them that Tom thinks he left the country. If he gets spotted again they'll just think he snuck back in. It would be feasible. A lot of people are travelling about. It shouldn’t come back to bite us.’ 

‘True,’ she murmured. She glanced at him with a curious expression. 

‘What?’ he asked. 

‘Does your father have those sort of acquaintances?’ 

Draco shifted awkwardly. ‘Probably.' he admitted. 'Although I doubt he’d ever use them personally.’ 

‘Oh, he does actually have some morals then?’ Hermione asked with interest.  

Draco snorted. ‘No. He's one of the least ethical people I know. It's not about morals. It's self-preservation. It's a fact that if father strayed with anyone, mother would have his head on a spike in Diagon Alley within minutes. I’m not exaggerating. He would be hunted down and decapitated by her. She’s from the House of Black, Hermione. The Black women are fierce. Over the centuries several cheating husbands' heads have been separated from their bodies.’ 

Hermione paled dramatically at that horrific image. 

Her eyes looked beyond the park. ‘There’s a little cafe down there.’ 

‘We’ll head there in a minute,’ Draco said. ‘Let’s just enjoy this.’ 

Hermione gave him a grin as they sat in comfortable silence. 

‘I still can’t get over you calling me a slut. I was very offended. You said it with so much meaning,’ Draco said with a mock pout. 

Hermione giggled. ‘I had to be convincing.' 

Draco smirked. 'I know. We do what we have to. We won't survive otherwise. You’ve already done so much for the war effort. It’s very intimidating.’ 

Hermione’s face flickered with mischief. ‘Draco. You kissed the boy who lived for the war effort. I’d say that was a very impressive sacrifice. Legendary in fact.’ 

Draco gave her an outraged expression. 'You're never going to let me forget that, are you?'

'Nope, never,' she smiled at him. 

She felt the urge to kiss him and gave in. If she closed her eyes when she kissed herself, it helped. 

Draco responded with a smile. He would quite happily sit on this bench all afternoon and do this. The magic surged inside them as it always did.

Hermione broke away eventually as they gave each other that slightly incredulous look they often did after kissing. 

'I'll never get bored of doing that,' Draco said as Hermione smiled at him. 

'Same,' she murmured. 

For a while, they sat and watched the world go by. 

‘We have the photos we need at least. Our project is coming along so well,’ Hermione said. 

Draco nodded along. 'We should have it completed soon.' 

'We got it done just in time. That should be the last of our incognito travels. The Ministry will be sealing the tunnels next month,’ Hermione added. 

‘We’ve still got the floo in case of emergency,’ Draco said. 

‘What happens next in the timeline?’ Hermione asked. ‘I keep getting muddled.’ 

Draco pursed his lips as he recalled the events. ‘Oh, yes. The Weasley is our king nightmare is just around the corner. It was intolerable the first time.'  

He said this with such a sour face that Hermione burst out laughing. 

‘I’m sure it will be just as annoying this time around,’ she said with a sympathetic expression that morphed into a grin. 

‘Harry’s roped in Ginny for the drink spiking facade,’ Draco said with a surly expression. ‘I wasn't getting involved. There is no way I’m helping Gryffindor beat Slytherin at Quidditch. It transcends all my morals.’ 

Hermione gave him another kiss on the lips at that. ‘I don’t understand why you lot get so worked up over Quidditch. It’s just a game.’ 

‘Oh, Hermione. You are many wonderful things, but your lack of appreciation of the great game is a travesty.’ 

Hermione gazed at him then with a broad smile. They’d had a terrible ordeal earlier, but being with Draco just seemed to make everything get better a lot faster. 

‘We can be ourselves again soon,’ she said to him with a velvety tone to her voice. 

She saw her eyes darken immediately. 

‘Just name the time and place, Miss Granger. I will be there.’ 

‘I know you will,’ she said with a teasing tone. 

Draco felt a surge of delight.

Diagon Alley was quickly becoming a distant memory.

He ran his fingers down her cheek as she nuzzled in.

Hermione somehow always made everything better. 

Chapter Text

The next week was rather enjoyable for them both. Hermione had invited Draco around for another date. He in turn was on cloud nine at the prospect. 

He would be back as him for a night and would be with her. 

Hermione was also looking forward to the night with much the same enthusiasm. Draco was so much more relaxed than he had been. She in turn was too. They were good for each other. They made each other happy. Even amongst all the madness. 

Draco was like a new man. She had wondered at that. He was free for a time from the shackles of his old life. Dumbledore and Harry remained positive about the future. This second chance to prevent the horrors of the original timeline was visible in their discussions. The power of the Vortex was a strong foundation of optimism for each of them. 

She was happy when she was with them but the darkness that loomed in the background still lingered for her. When she was alone those shadows seemed darker than when she was with the others. 

She was, by nature, a serious person. She wasn’t devoid of humour, but she worried. She always worried too much. She found herself gripping the unicorn wand more often. Its light touch seeped into her and helped her breathe more easily. 

When she was alone her insides felt tenser. She was much more agitated at what lay ahead than the others appeared to be. The waiting was grinding her down. Her murderous instincts to Yaxley had disturbed her immensely. With time to calm down, she knew she needed more control over her emotions. The law was still the law. She couldn't take it into her own hands. War was one thing. The Dark Lord and Harry's final encounter was destiny. For Harry, it was kill or be killed.

Cold-blooded murder was quite another. Her dark thoughts lingered on what the future held. Yaxley and all the others needed stopping. The Ministry was currently ineffectual. So many of Tom's followers needed bringing to justice and everything in their world was already in disarray.

If Harry succeeded, how many more of them would evade justice like they had in the first war? She scoffed at how many Death Eaters had claimed they were under the Imperius curse and had been allowed their freedom with that dubious defence. The Wizarding World was small. So many of them were related to each other. So many of them protected each other. 

She put it out of her mind. Dwelling on these unsettling facts was not good for her positivity. Riddle was the priority right now. There was no escaping that morbid fact. Without him, the Death Eaters' hold on their world would collapse, but those people were always there in the shadows. They always posed a danger. It would only take another Tom for them to resurface publicly. 

Her mind was conflicted in so many ways. 

She'd wanted to slice Yaxley's throat wide open. The troubling incident in the Leaky Cauldron was also something that preyed on her mind.

She was on autopilot around Hogwarts. She still dressed immaculately. She made sure his hair was in place and that his suits were pristine. She wore his Slytherin signet ring on the exact same finger that Draco had worn his and twirled his wand in a perfect imitation of him. She had worn some of his other rings but she kept coming back to this one. They never felt as comforting as this one did. Draco had told her his mother had given it to him on his seventh birthday.

She touched the silver snake gently. It was a Black family heirloom, passed down over many generations. 

Narcissa had chosen seven as it was regarded as one of the major magical numbers. Narcissa had told him the ring would bring him luck. Draco had told her all about it. The serpent was greatly misunderstood. Many only saw them as evil. That all they represented was death and the devil.

Draco explained that throughout history the snake represented many things to many different cultures. Rebirth, transformation and wisdom were amongst them. They were a symbol of healing and medicine in many parts of the world. Hermione had grown even fonder of the signet ring after hearing that. 

Hermione had gotten into the habit of grazing her fingers over it in repetitive motions. 

The cuff-links were still being carefully chosen, as was his aftershave. She needed to appear to all as fully in control. Eyes were always looking in her direction. Her face ached at the end of the day from keeping his sardonic, dismissive looks in place to his peers. 

Pansy helped her get through the days. That Pansy was actually a positive in her life was something she never thought possible but it was a fact. Her company made her less fraught. Pansy hadn’t spoken again about her comments at that breakfast but it was clear from her obvious avoidance of the topic that it was something not forgotten. 

Blaise was steady. They spoke sometimes. Other times they didn’t. She went through the motions with Crabbe and Goyle. 

In her visions, Tom was sometimes there. His red eyes and snake-like face haunted her. Bellatrix appeared on occasion. Her once aristocratic features were ravaged by Azkaban and dark magic. Hermione had seen for herself what Azkaban did to their prisoners. Sirius was never too far from her thoughts, especially now. His fate had been dire. She thought of Yaxley and his plans for their world should they fail. The innocent would all be sentenced to Hell on Earth. 

She wanted this over with. She'd already lived through the war in the original timeline. The waiting was excruciating. She needed her own body back. She wanted her and Draco to start a real future together without that maniac hanging over them. His parents were an obstacle but he was sure about her. She was sure too. In time, they would come around. Maybe. The truth would come out about their fates in the original timeline if they succeeded. That would soften the blow somewhat. 

Hermione pursed her lips. All this pandering to pureblood supremacists did make her vexed. Draco wouldn't push her. She knew that. He had chosen her. Hermione looked down at his pale hands. Draco was worth this. 

Draco had told her he resented his father. A break from each other might actually be the best thing for both of them. His mother was another challenge altogether. Hermione didn't want to speculate on how that would evolve. She did know Narcissa loved her son. It would take time.

If Harry could finish Riddle they would actually have time. 

Her own parents needed only to know the man she spent her life with loved her and treated her well. They were still getting their own heads around apparition, let alone all the rest of the insane things that had happened to her in the Wizarding World. Hermione had kept the details at an absolute minimum. She knew that they most probably would have taken her from Hogwarts years ago if they even knew half of it. 

Draco was clearly in love with her. She could feel it. It was in the way he touched her and the way his eyes would stare into hers. He was much stronger than she had thought he was. The more she saw of his life, the more she realised how brave he actually was to turn his back on his past. She knew what she was feeling for him. 

The way she felt when she was with him made her feel hope. She also felt very attracted to him in a very physical way. She was always looking for ways to touch him too, which was quite unlike her. She felt more like handsy Cormac than herself right now. She put it partly down to the male hormones. 

Hermione emerged from another night of visions and dreams. 

She had been at a dinner party in happier times at Malfoy Manor. She had been at several of them. She observed the particular sort of manners used and the type of conversations that were had. She could assume that the Vision was helping her if she found herself around these sorts of people in the future and needed to imitate Draco as much more cultured and suave than he was around Death Eaters. 

It wasn’t so different to the dinner parties her parents had with their friends. There was some social talk. Sports talk and a nod to the political issues of the day at first. After a few drinks, the talk tended to lighter topics. Generally. There was sometimes some vague talk about tradition and maintaining the old ways but Hermione observed that most of the people present at these dinner parties seemed reluctant to discuss it any further.

This was before the whispers had returned about the Dark Lord's return. Many of the purebloods had clearly wanted to move on from those dark days. Even amongst the society set, there was little in the way of encouragement for that sort of talk.  

She had been in an actual dream that had been mixed up randomly with the tent she had lived in and the Forest of Dean. She didn’t feel at all guilty that she didn't feel bad that Harry wasn’t present at this one. She simply gazed at Draco as he appeared by her chair. His faint touch was more than welcome in these dreams. 

No words were spoken between but she felt so much at ease with him as he lifted her to the bed. His lips on her neck were causing her bliss. 

Her dreams were much like Draco’s were. He sat with her parents in her world. He observed the similarities and the differences with a keen eye. 

Their two worlds had collided. His dreams were so much like hers.

Faint, but full of need. 

Draco left the common room with considerable speed. It was finally Saturday night. More importantly, it was polyjuice date night. 

Hermione had invited him to stay with her. 

He gracefully ignored Ron’s glowering as he sidled away with nary a thought about the redhead’s annoyance at being ignored yet again. 

Ron’s surly behaviour to who he believed was Hermione was waved away with barely an acknowledgement by Draco. 

Ron privately grumbled about this. It was as if she didn’t care for his mood swings and how deeply she’d offended him. That couldn’t be right. Ron was the most important person in her life. 

He’d up the ante with Lavender. He’d show her what she was missing. He was a great catch and now he was also brilliant at Quidditch. He was the entire package. 

Harry had always told him his Quidditch insecurities were only in his head. He had been right. It was the start of a new age. 

Ron gave a rueful grin. Harry had tricked him for his own good by making him think he'd drunk the Felix Felicis potion. 

In his own mind, he'd forgiven Harry for his uncalled-for opinions after his row with Ginny. Harry was back on track doing what he did best which was being his wingman. 

Ron had performed at an exceptional level and Gryffindor had won the Quidditch match against Slytherin.

He was on top. Only Hermione was spoiling it for him.

She could always be so difficult. 

Draco had been a little bitter at the Quidditch result for several minutes, but then knowing what lay around the corner, he'd snapped out of it and had already perked up. 

The Lavender and Ron era was once again in full flow. The deja-vu of this was a little peculiar to witness for a second time, but Draco powered through it. Ron was in a much better mood. The Gryffindor team had cheered up as well.  

Not that Draco was in any way perturbed by any of this daily drama in Gryffindor House.

The trip to Diagon Alley and Yaxley’s buyer's book was never too far from his thoughts and that took priority. 

When he thought how close they had both come to the altercation in the Leaky Cauldron escalating to fatal levels, it had fortified his resolve. Hermione had been on top form that day. He knew she was always at her best when someone she cared about was being threatened. Hermione cared about him. His face crinkled up into a smile at that thought. 

He thought of his parents. Draco wondered if they would ever be able to sit down together as a proper family. In time he was certain they would. He was their only child. 

He understood this wouldn't happen overnight. Even once they knew the truth, it could take years to thaw them out. His parents were cold people. It would be hard for him, but he had to be true to himself. His wife was his future. She would be his family. In time there would be children. Their children. They would no doubt be properly scheduled. Draco smiled at that. Hermione would want to focus on her career first. That was obvious. Draco looked down at his new body.

Hopefully. 

He had the unwanted image of being in labour and pushed that thought away. Haircuts and clothing were one thing. That was quite another. One day at a time. Riddle first. 

He had done what his parents had advised. Mostly. He had chosen his future wife well. She was everything he had been looking for. They made each other happy, even with all the crazy going on in their lives. 

It all hinged on Tom. If they defeated him, then they all had a future together. If they failed, his parents, Hermione and himself would be dead.

For all his worry and conflicting ideals in the original timeline, it turned out that, in the end, the choice had been simple. 

That Hermione could imitate the Death Eaters so effectively concerned him. She shouldn’t have to be so acquainted with their behaviour. No one should be. His father had been unusual to most of Tom’s followers he had met. Lucius had been, on the surface, much more subtle. Generally. The brawl with Arthur Weasley in the book shop was one of the rare times his father had lost his temper in public.

There was also the time that Harry had freed Dobby. Lucius had been in a monumental strop for weeks over that one. Draco was glad the elf had gone. Dobby was rather unique. He had wanted freedom. Lucius had wanted a servant. It was a match made in hell. Draco cringed when he remembered how badly Dobby was treated. That was a side to his father that had intimidated him as a young boy. That cane that had hit Dobby had got far too close to him several times. He knew his father could be very cruel. 

Draco was older now. His father no longer had the hold over him he'd had. Lucius was a powerful wizard, but he was still vulnerable in some ways. His father had been too demanding of him when he was younger. He had tried so hard to live up to his father's expectations, even attempting murder. Draco had come to terms with the fact Lucius had asked for too much from him. He'd had to pay for his mistakes. 

Tom had broken him. Lucius had been utterly humiliated. Draco supposed it was karma in a way. 

When he was younger, Lucius had been very smooth. His words were dripped like poison against his enemies. He wasn't as crude as his counterparts were. His father could be very charming when he needed to be. Most Death Eaters lacked even the most basic social graces. 

He derided his father again for his stupidity in getting involved with Tom in the first place. He knew for certain his father now regretted it. Like his son, his efforts to the pureblood cause had been minimal at best. Some of his father’s actions had ended up working against the Dark Lord. 

The Diary was one. Draco considered his father’s repeated failed attempts to put the Imperius charm on the Ministry workers to retrieve the prophecy. He had broken the prophecy. Draco had to suspect that on some level, even if was subconsciously, maybe his father wanted out of this whole thing. 

He knew his mother certainly did. Riddle certainly suspected them both at this point of not being true followers. 

He pushed the thoughts of his family to one side for now. He currently had far more important matters to contend with. Mainly, his physical yearnings for Hermione. He was so close, yet so far. This waiting was almost unbearable. 

Hermione had been flirting with him all week. He was fit to burst. Pale hands would run up his inner thigh in the library. Long, sweet kisses were had on her bed as their magic hummed. 

He had been in a state of perpetual arousal all week. As the most organised person he knew, she had discussed her plans to be one with him calmly and rationally. He’d felt a glow at her proposition. She was ready. She wanted to explore further what they were with each other. 

Their attraction to each was palpable. The physical pull was obvious to both of them, but it was more than that. They needed to be close to each other. They needed to connect fully with each other. 

Hermione wasn’t so good with words from the heart, which was bizarre because she knew so many of them. Draco understood. After the Ron debacle, she was very rusty. She needed to show him what she felt.

What they were feeling for each other was both intimidating and thrilling at the same time. 

Draco blessed the inventor of polyjuice as he quickly disillusioned himself and made his way to the seventh floor. 

The familiar corridor was, as usual, deserted. There was not a peep. Draco cleared the spell as he took a deep breath. 

He gave the knock as he watched himself open the door with the most inviting of smiles. 

‘Hey, you,’ Hermione murmured in the most delectable of voices that made every part of him shiver in anticipation. 

His eyes took her all in. He could see all she was wearing was a robe. 

His lips curled up in anticipation at this bold move of hers. 

‘Are you going to invite me in?’ he smirked back. 

'Do come in,' she whispered in a very tempting voice as she beckoned him inside. 

He stepped closer to her.

She gave him a light kiss on the lips as he pulled gently on her robe. 

Draco practically skipped over the threshold in his haste as Hermione swiftly closed the door behind them. 

Unbeknown to either of them, reptilian eyes were paying them both very close attention. The owner of those eyes felt deep suspicion.

What was Draco doing with the mudblood? 

They watched the door for some time in deep contemplation. Then they slithered away from the castle. 

The Dark Lord needed to be informed of this development. 

Nagini left Hogwarts through the underground tunnel.

She had always had her doubts about the Malfoy family. If not for Bellatrix, she wondered if Lucius would even be alive after the fiasco at the Ministry.  Draco was up to something. That was clear. 

Nagini slithered down the rocky tunnel as she considered the youngest Malfoy. Nagini had paid close attention to all that sat at the table at Malfoy Manor. She was the Dark Lord's eyes at Hogwarts. She had observed the discreet comings and goings of the blond and the heavy use of the invisibility cloak. She had followed the scent of him to his new quarters. She knew about the project. This behaviour she had just witnessed went past merely putting on a false face for the enemy. 

He could simply be luring Granger into a false sense of security. Yaxley had confirmed Draco had agreed to bring her to the Dark Lord himself for the opportunity of great rewards in the future. If he intended to put an Imperius Curse on her he would need for her to let her guard down and let him close to her. He was a Malfoy. They could be very manipulative. 

As she slithered out into the dark night she continued to muse. 

She had always had her doubts about Draco. She could sense the light in him. His parents' lives were in jeopardy. He knew what was at stake if he failed in his mission. He had been behaving impeccably in public. His arrogance was just like his father's when he was with Crabbe and Goyle. By all accounts, he was very confident that he would succeed in what the Dark Lord had ordered him to do. 

There was a little niggling in her mind though. Draco was someone she doubted. 

The Dark Lord would decide what to do.

Her job was simply to report Draco's movements and behaviour to him. 

The polyjuice ritual was completed with great haste by both of them. 

Draco slid on a robe and they both waited for a long moment to acclimatise to their old bodies. It was always a little weird to refind their balance again. Their relief at being themselves again was obvious. 

Draco was the first to move closer. A long, lingering kiss followed.

Hermione reached up and ran her fingers through blond hair that felt so much better this way around. 

Draco was kissing those soft lips he craved as he sunk in deeper. 

Desire was already pushing them forward. 

Hermione took a small step back and peered at him. 

She had the sort of expression on her face that Draco now knew precluded her imparting some personal information. He was already intrigued. 

She took his hand and moved them to the bed. She was ready. Her dreams had been vivid and full of longing for days now. 

She felt a certainty now. 

‘Draco,’ Hermione murmured as he watched her play with her hair. 

He gave her a smooth smile as he ran his hands under her robe and up her thighs.

Her pupils dilated. 

‘We must not be remiss,’ she managed to get out. He watched her reach on the side table and plonk down a large box of condoms. 

Draco gazed at the box with confusion. 

‘It's muggle contraception,’ she told him in a succinct tone. ‘I’m not sure what the situation is due to our unique circumstances. I have looked at every variable and birth control spell available and I’m still none the wiser about any of it. Ployjuiced bodies already body swapped is an enigma wrapped in a conundrum to me in regards to just what we need to use. I assume you want to avoid getting pregnant at this precarious time?’

‘Such saucy bedroom talk, Granger,’ he said in a voice dripping with amused sarcasm. 

‘Yes, well. We’ve already got enough on our plate. Trying to defeat Tom whilst juggling breastfeeding and changing nappies seems to me to be an insurmountable challenge by anyone’s standards,’ she muttered. 

Draco snorted. 

‘Has the future Minister of Magic finally accepted she can’t do everything?’ he managed to get out between guffaws. 

She gave him a rueful grin at that. Draco was clearly in a very good mood. 

‘I’m not wonder woman,’ she admitted. 

Draco gave her a warm smile at that. ‘You’re wonderful enough for me.’ 

Hermione melted at that as she ran her hand down his arm.

They held each other’s eyes for a long time as the air crackled. 

He then looked with interest at the package as Hermione plucked out what she needed. 

Hermione ran her fingers over his lips with a more seductive smirk. 

‘I’m sure you’ve studied them using your big brain and experimental techniques,’ Draco said lightly as his hands moved up to her waist playfully. 

‘Of course,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve made sure I’m very adept at using them. I’ll show you how they work. They’re incredibly useful. With correct usage, they should be 98% effective. Usage error accounts for a 14% risk. As we are both competent individuals that shouldn’t happen. Weighing up our present situation I’ve concluded that the 2% risk is worth it.’ 

Draco could only stare at her as she concluded her final analysis. 

‘Don’t ever change your methodical approach to anything technical, Hermione,’ he said with the beginnings of a grin. ‘Please. Never, ever.’ 

‘I mean it, Draco. We both need tonight. I’m going to burst otherwise.’ 

‘You’re that sure?’ he asked her hopefully. 

‘I am,’ Hermione told him in such a matter of fact voice that he knew it to be true. 

‘You’re featuring very heavily in my mind, asleep and awake,' she told him. 'Merlin. The things we do together. I need this. You need this.’ 

Draco’s heart rate sped up to quite alarming levels at that admission. 

She gave him a cheeky smirk as she picked out a condom.

‘I’ll show you how to use them,’ she said in a very brisk tone. 

‘You’ve already tried them out on me?’ he asked in a tight voice. 

‘It was vital for my learning process. They’re very easy to use.’ 

‘Well, Salazar bless the muggles for their practicality.’ 

Draco's eyes had darkened as he watched her. This was really happening. 

The build-up had been unbearable for both of them. 

‘Let’s not waste another minute,’ Hermione said.

Draco didn’t need any persuasion. 

Draco found himself in his favourite place. Her bed. Hermione reached for him and pulled his lips down to hers. 

Their kisses gradually deepened as their hands explored further. 

Draco eased open her robe as his hands slid around her waist. 

He slid his body between her thighs as her fingers moved down his chest slowly.  

Pale fingers moved up her body as he stared at her with want. 

The body from the mirror that she was so used to seeing was now in front of her for real. 

'Are you sure?' he asked her as his fingers roamed.  

'Very,' she whispered back. 

His heart began to beat even more rapidly as he slid down her robe.  

Draco grazed her body with his fingers as his eyes raked over her. 

The night began to take on an ethereal quality as they moved closer to each other. 

They knew from experience just the right amount of pressure that was needed to elicit the most pleasure.

He gazed at her with longing. Their magnetic pull to each other only increased. 

At this stage, wild horses would struggle to separate them. 

Hermione lay back and ran her hands down his arms. 

For some time they enjoyed the simple closeness of this. Draco scattered kisses over her as she gave light sighs. 

She moved her hand under his chin and then gave him a small nod as she bit her lip. 

It was time. 

He used one hand on the bed to steady himself as his throat went dry as he watched her open herself up for him. 

She trusted him. Draco felt joy at that. 

She felt him ease inside her at a slow pace. His face was intent on hers. She inhaled sharply as he moved deeper inside her. His own body was feeling glorious tremors undulating inside of him at this sensitive contact. 

‘Is this alright?’ he asked quietly. 

Hermione watched him carefully, ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Though, keep going slowly.’ 

He stared down at her transfixed. His whole body was trembling as he moved carefully.

She gasped as he stilled. Her nails were digging into his back in such a way it sent lovely thrills through him. Their magic was merging with each other. 

His whole body knew it for certain then. He could feel her in his bones and in his mind. He was utterly whole right now. There was nothing else in the world. He had never felt peace like it in all his life. She was his other half. This was it. This is what people spoke of. She was the one. 

Brown eyes stared into his that were completely exposed. He saw her. He saw what she felt for him. 

‘My love,’ she said softly. 

She saw his face light up at those words. He kissed her lips gently as he waited for her. He felt her move around him as he heard her small pants which sent sharp, delectable thrills within him. 

He was in a trance as he watched her become more comfortable. His eyes were taking her all in. This was so much better than his dreams had been. This was real. Draco couldn't quite believe this was happening but he knew it was. 

'I'm ready,' she whispered. 

Draco stifled his own moan at those words. He began to move inside of her. This was sublime. They knew each other's bodies so well by now. They could anticipate what the other would like. 

He began to move at a measured pace at first. He needed this to last. He didn't want to hurry this or rush her. 

She pulled him tighter to her and he heard her moan softly into his ear. Draco felt something deep within him coil tightly at that.

Hermione felt him all around her.  She arched her back as he felt a jolt of lighting go through him. Brown eyes stared into his. 

He focused on her. He kept the pace smooth and slow. The minutes began to pass as they repeated these simple, but gratifying movements. The air around them was becoming thick and hot as he watched her face change from apprehensive to lustful. 

Her eyes looked into his with a dreamy expression that matched his own. Her own body was on the edge now. Her skin was tingling as she felt herself clench inside. 

Draco felt her around him. His hand was on her neck as he moved down to kiss her again. 

He felt her arms wrap around his back as she pulled him deeper inside of her.  

He began to quicken as her fingers were clutching into his back. 

He could feel her body begin to shudder as his own began to come undone as he became completely captured by the sensations. 

Hermione felt her entire body go rigid as all the blood inside her rushed through her like a tidal wave as she jolted. 

For a long moment, she felt like she was floating. She closed her eyes as her mouth let out a loud, delicious cry as she spasmed. Waves of pleasure rolled through her as she gripped tightly onto him. 

Draco felt the same unrelenting pleasure. 

Time seemed to lose all meaning. They saw endless stars. The brightest, most wonderful flashes of light flooded their vision. 

Hermione’s held onto him tightly as sparks of the most gorgeous magic shot through her. She could feel him everywhere inside of her. 

Draco felt her spirit fill him. His fingers were clutching at her desperately. 

They both hit the heights as they clenched their eyes shut. 

All there was in that endless moment was them. 

The aftershocks rippled through them as they eventually opened their eyes. 

‘That was incredible. That was…’ Draco trailed off as he looked at her with amazement. 

Her own eyes were staring at him as her fingers held his face. 

She pulled him down to her face and kissed him deeply. 

The magic flickered inside them as they both smiled into the kiss. 

‘You’re the one,’ Draco murmured to her. 

‘No exceptions,’ she said in a thick voice as she stared at him.

He lay next to her and lifted his arm as she wrapped around him. The soothing motions of his hand running over her shoulder and arm steadied her breathing. 

‘I’m glad it’s you,’ Hermione murmured to him as she reached up and kissed him.  

He lay back as she rested against him. He put his arm around her. 

Draco felt the last vestiges of the dark weight of his previous conflicted nature dissipate at that moment. Life, love, family. He was holding everything that mattered to him. 

This was it.

Whatever happened he swore to himself at that moment he would see this through to the very end. 

That endless night was to be a much-needed balm for both of them.

For hours it was just them in their own world as they explored each other. 

They knew the ways they could make their lover writhe with pleasure.

They were both a boneless mess as the dawn broke. 

He stared into her familiar brown eyes that had never seemed so open to him. 

He was loved. He was loved by a woman he’d do anything for. Of all he had endured in his life, this was karma in its extreme. 

All the bad he had lived through suddenly seemed worth it to him. 

She in turn was still shocked by her desire for the blond she had misread for so long.

He was a gentle lover. He was tactile with her. She could feel how precious she was to him. 

With another kiss on his lips, Hermione moved to her side and lightly stroked his arm. Draco was still looking at her with an incredulous look. He had made love. Actual love. It wasn’t just sex. This wasn’t just physical. This wasn't just having fun.

They had needed to show each other just what they were feeling. 

This was all. This was the woman he wanted to spend all his nights with. She was who he needed by his side. 

He understood now what his mother had meant. This love was indefinable. It was a part of him. His parents could banish him from the Manor, but he wasn’t going to be denied true happiness. He’d been deprived of it for years. Only now, with her by his side, did he know what he had been missing. 

Hermione gazed into his eyes as his hands ran down the soft skin of her back and stroked her in smooth movements. 

There was no rush. It was Sunday morning. They could lay here all day if they wanted to. They’d both be more than happy to. They watched each other with sudden clarity. The polyjuice would be wearing off soon. Then it would be back to normal. 

Normal.

Draco felt his heart sink. Even though not being Draco had its good points, not being himself with Hermione was taking its toll.

‘I want to marry you,’ he said suddenly as he gazed at her. 

Hermione spluttered. 

‘Not right now, but when we can. When all this is over I want to be with you properly. I love you.’ 

Hermione, who had been wallowing in her post haze of passion, turned and gawped at him in shock. 

‘I love you, Hermione Granger,’ he said. ‘I used to think everything was so complicated, but it's not. It's not difficult at all. It's all so simple. All of it. We love each other. I want to spend my life with you. I want you to be my wife. I want to say those vows to you. All of them. To have and to hold, forsaking all others. Everything.’ 

She stared at him in silence.  

Draco’s face fell at her response. ‘Do you not want to?’ he asked in a lower voice. 

She shook herself and gave him a kiss on the lips as she leant back. 'I do. So much. What we've just shared together has been so much more than I could ever wish for. You and I. What we are to each other is genuinely staggering to me. It's just so much. I'm still coming to terms with all this.' 

Draco gave her a reassuring hug.

Hermione ran her nails down his chest. ‘I do want this with you. We do need to take this one step at a time though,’ she murmured. ‘You’re actually being real here with me? Do you actually want to marry me? It's not just the afterglow talking?’ 

Draco nodded in earnest. 'Yes. I know what I feel when I’m with you. You’re part of me. I’m part of you.’ 

Hermione made a very strange eep sound.

‘You don’t waste time when you know what you want.’ 

‘I’m ambitious. I go for what I need. I need you. When we first changed into each other I genuinely don’t know where I found the strength to carry on, but I see now that this has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Well, as long as the Vortex changes us back. Even if it doesn't I still want to grow old with you.'

Hermione felt the biggest smile appear on her face at those words. 

Draco grinned at her. 'Nothing's perfectly plain sailing but we'd get through it. Being able to know you properly has been the greatest experience of my life. I’ve been looking for you for years and now I've found you. You were right in front of me all this time.’ 

Hermione felt her eyes water at that as she gave him a soft smile. 'We're seeing each other now. That's what matters.' 

His eyes stared into hers. 'We might have had a very unconventional start to dating, but we've already come so far.' 

She gave him a winning smile. ‘Just so you know, I’m keeping my surname. That is not something I will compromise on.'