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Hermione Granger and the wishing stone	By : fatedsoul Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 33389 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the characters or the world and I am making no money off this story. I just think it's fun to Play with poor little Draco and Hermione. ^^

Chapter List
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1.

Hermione gasped and sat up in bed, still reaching out for Harry, but he wasn’t there. Even more confusing was that she was in bed, and not one of the tattered old bunks inside the magical tent. It wasn’t her bed at home, or her room, but after a moment of looking around bewildered she realized that she was in an old, drafty, and all together familiar castle.

Throwing the thick warm down comforter to the side she slid out of the bed and surveyed the room. The bed was a large, four post thing that took up the center of the room and was draped in thick crimson curtains and bedding. At the foot was her school trunk, at it’s left against the wall was a desk covered with piles of books and parchment that sat looking out the only window in the room. To the right was a full length mirror, a large dark oak wardrobe and the door that led out of the room. Finally, facing the bed, on the far wall, was a large fire place that looked as if the fire had burned to embers hours before.

Moving to the wardrobe she slowly opened it’s ornate doors to find her school robes hanging neatly, the Head Girl’s badge glinting softly in the pale candle light.

Hermione felt something between relief and terror as she reached out to touch the fabric of the uniform. Everything seemed real. She was back at Hogwarts, she was Head Girl, she was safe and warm. She had to find Harry and Ron. There had to be an explanation for what was going on. Pulling the robe out of the wardrobe she threw it around her shoulders and left the room filled with familiar things.

The short staircase led to the Heads’ private common room where a fire was roaring in the hearth, casting long shadows over the otherwise dark room. Stopping at the foot of the stairs she realized she wasn’t the only one in the room.

Sitting on the large dark leather couch that was placed in the center of the room was who she could only guess was the Head Boy. His back was to her, But she would know the head of white blond hair anywhere, even though it looked longer and stringier then she’d ever remembered seeing it.

“Malfoy?” Her tone was half surprised half agitated, as she spoke the name.

To her surprise he seemed to flinch at the sound of her voice. “You’re still mad at me.” His voice was barely a whisper and Hermione found herself moving closer to the couch in order to make sure she could hear him. “I said I was sorry for snapping at you Hermione.”

She felt her jaw go slack at the sound of her first name from his lips. It sounded, natural, like it was something he said on a daily basis. First names never sounded that natural on Malfoy’s lips; ever.

Before she could respond he turned to look at her over the back of the couch.

He still had the sharp pointed features of a pureblood wizard aristocrat, but he was missing the mask of cool aloofness and superiority that she’d come to associate with him. His pale grey eyes looked like storm clouds in the low light of the fire, filled with barely contained sorrow and anger. But the thing that surprised her the most was the dark swollen bruise at the outside of his right eye. As if he had been hit hard in the face. “It was just embarrassing you know. I’m Head Boy this year and I still get picked on; you’re still coming to my rescue.”

His rescue? Her brow furrowed in slight confusion, why in the world would she ever bother going to the little Ferret’s rescue?

He heaved a heavy sigh and turned back to face the fire. “I guess you’ll be running to Potter now. Like Severus always said you would.” His tone was filled with sorrow and defeat.

“Professor Snape said I would run to Ha… Potter?” She corrected before she called Harry by his first name. Things were getting stranger and stranger and her mind was having trouble keeping up with the strange twists of information she was getting.

“Forth year, after the Yule Ball. He told me it was only going to be a matter of time before I screwed up. Before I’d make a mistake that would end our friendship and send you running into Potter’s arms. I didn’t want to believe him, but I guess he was right.”

She was floored, something was VERY wrong. She was friends with Draco Malfoy, who wasn’t the bully she remembered him being. Her plan to find Harry and ask him what had happened no longer seemed like a good idea, but there was still so much she didn’t understand. “Why would I run to Potter’s arms? Why not someone else’s?” She asked, moving closer to the couch.

A strangled laugh left the blond, but he didn’t turn back toward her. “He seems to think history will repeat itself. An idea Potter seems equally certain of.”

“History…” Suddenly a few of the pieces came together. Harry had said that Snape and his mother had been close friends in school. That the Professor had actually been in love with Lily Evans. The two had a terrible falling out after she had come to his rescue while he was being bullied by James Potter and Sirius Black. In his embarrassment and anger he had called Lilly a Mudblood. It had been that one act that had given James the opening he needed to later succeed in courting and marrying Lilly. “Why would I ever be interested in dating Harry Potter?”

Malfoy shrugged and seemed to press himself deeper into the couch as if trying to disappear. “Because he’s rich, his parents are famous, he’s good looking, and he’s been constantly pursuing you since the ball forth year.”

“But he’s a bully.” It was more of a question then a statement. She didn’t want to believe that there were parallels between the past and the present. After all, the Harry Potter she knew was definitely not a bully. He did everything he could to protect people, including giving up everything to try and destroy Voldamort.

“Yeah so? His father was a bully too and he still got the girl.”

Hermione was floored, her best friend, her Harry, was a bully. Moving around the couch she allowed herself to fall into the large overstuffed leather chair that sat directly in front of the fire. She didn’t think her shaking legs would be able to hold her weight much longer.

“I really am sorry I snapped at you after the sorting ceremony. I guess it’s just hard to deal with getting punched in the face in front of everyone.” He said, his fingers moving to gently touch the bruise. He hissed as his finger’s brushed over the inflamed skin and then began to chuckle softly. “You’d think I’d be use to it be now though, wouldn’t you?”

She frowned but couldn’t think of anything to say. It felt weird to try and comfort a boy who she remembered being her childhood enemy.

“You were going somewhere. I didn’t mean to stop you. I just wanted you to know I was sorry.”

“I was just going up to Gryffindor tower to talk to Potter about what happened this evening.” She said as casually as she could manage. It wasn’t a lie, she had been headed to talk to Harry about what had happened when Malfoy had spoken. But not at the sorting ceremony, in the cave.

“Last time you tried to talk to Potter about the way he was acting was third year when you ended up decking him. Do you really think it would be any more civil now?”

She felt suddenly ill. She had decked Harry in their third year? No, she had slapped Malfoy for laughing about the death of Buck Beak. “You never know. We are older now.”

“Yeah, but he’s still the same old wanker.”

She clenched her teeth in an effort to not get upset with Malfoy. Every fiber in her body wanted to get up and tell the blond where he could stick his opinion of her best friend. Wanted to tell him how kind and wonderful Harry was. “I should still go speak with him.”

He nodded, still looking at the fire.

Hermione pushed back the thought that he looked small and defeated sitting there in the fire light. She had to find Harry and Ron. Together they would be able to figure out what had happened and how to fix it. She had to believe that she could fix what she considered to be something terribly wrong. Standing she walked over to the portrait hole only pausing for a moment to realize that she didn’t know the password to get back in. “Draco,” his name sounded strange coming off her tongue, but she needed his help and was relatively sure that the use of his last name would not go over well with him.

“Periwinkle.” He said before she could ask. “I figured you were too upset with me to have actually heard the portrait tell us what the password was.”

“Thank you.” Without another word she disappeared out into the hall and headed for Gryffindor tower, where she had to believe Harry was waiting and just as confused as she was.

The sight of the fat lady snoozing in her frame filled Hermione with a sense of comfort that she had not felt in what seemed like years. Clearing her throat she took a deep breath before attempting to wake the painting. “Excuse me. I need access to the Gryffindor common room. It’s official Heads business.” She stated in what she hoped was a firm and believable tone.

The Fat Lady yawned and mumbled something about the hour before swinging open to reveal the room beyond.

The overwhelming feeling of returning home died in her chest as she took in the room. It was set up exactly as she remembered it, however she instantly knew that this was not the Hogwarts she knew.

Sitting on the long couch opposite the portrait hole were three boys she thought she knew well. On her left was Ron, who sat turned toward the chair on his right, talking in what she could only guess was a smooth manner to Lavender Brown. On the other side of the couch, one foot on the couch cushion and reading what she could only guess was a book on herbology, was Neville; and between them Harry sat animatedly telling a story to a group of first years who were crowded around on the floor.

As the portrait closed behind her Harry looked up from the group, his green eyes locking on her cinnamon ones. “Granger.” He smiled, and Hermione felt a kind of unadulterated fear grip her. The boy with the smooth, unscarred forehead, and the charming, if not mischievous, smile; was not her Harry. “I see you managed to get poor moping Malfoy off your robe tails for long enough to come see us.”

She felt sick. The cockiness she saw was suppose to belong to Malfoy, not Harry. Somehow, everything had been turned on its head. “I came to make sure you weren’t causing any trouble.” She said as evenly as she could manage.

Ron laughed, and so did Harry. Neville looked up from his book, shaking his head a few times before going back to his reading.

“We’ve only been back to school for a few hours. I mean, I know we started off with a bang, what with giving Mopey that shiner and everything. But I think your giving us a little too much credit Granger.” Ron stated sardonically, which caused Lavender to erupt in a fit of giggles worthy of Pansy Parkinson.

“Now, now Ron. Maybe Granger has finally gotten tired of Malfoy’s company and decided to come hang out with real wizards.” Harry offered, his eyes never leaving hers, and his smile never wavering.

Tears of frustration threatened to form in the corners of her eyes and she clenched her jaw to keep from crying. “Potter you’re such a jerk.” She stated angrily. Turning, she pushed the portrait back open and stormed out of the room, the sound of laughter following her out into the hall.

Tears leaked from her eyes as she walked the halls of Hogwarts. Everything was wrong and she seemed to be the only one who knew it.

“Ms. Granger.” Came the soft baritone that she knew well. “What brings you to wandering the halls so late?”

She turned to face the kindly old man with the half moon spectacles and the long white beard. She knew she should have been happy to see him alive and well, but all she wanted was to go back to what she knew. “I’m sorry Professor Dumbledore. I know it’s past curfew.” She managed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her curled fingers.

“It’s alright. Sometimes it’s good to go for a late night walk to clear your head.”

“Nothing’s right Professor.”

“Is that so? Well, we both know how changing one event can change everything.” He said sagely.

“But I didn’t mean to!” She sobbed.

He nodded and stroked his long beard. “Perhaps you should take the time to look at your life and the lives of those around you before you go about trying to alter the past, present, or future. You might just find that there is nothing for you to try and change. Well then, good night Ms. Granger.”

She watched the old wizard walk back down the darkened hallway and sighed. How could he expect her to accept this new reality as her own. Her best friends were no longer her best friends. The sweet honorable Harry Potter she had grown up with had been replaced by an arrogant jerk, and Ron was completely conceded. Even Neville seemed less like the Neville she knew. Then there was Malfoy, the bane of her existence, the annoying little ferret, the Death Eater. He was practically meek, and didn’t seem to have an ounce of arrogance in his body.

The only thing that made sense was that she had some how managed to accidentally trigger the magic inside the glowing stone she and Harry had found in the cave. There was only one way to confirm her suspicions however, and that was to research the subject, and for that she would need ‘Hogwarts: A History’. With a goal clearly set Hermione headed back toward her room. After all, she was sure that nothing had changed so much in her life that she wouldn’t have the copy of the first magical book she had ever owned.
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Hermione Granger and the wishing stone