Meet the Kids

Chapter 5

Future Legends

"This is Megan Longbottom and Donna Finnigan." Lizzie flopped onto the nearest bed after introducing the other two Gryffindor seventh years in the girls' dormitories.

Hermione shook hands with the tall, curly haired girl Snape had been reprimanding in the halls earlier, and then waved to the other girl, who was lying on her bed reading a magazine. Donna smiled back, showing white, even teeth. She had light brown wavy hair that reached almost to her waist and blue eyes. From her surname, Hermione knew that she was Seamus' daughter, but strangely, she was reminded of someone else. As for Neville's daughter, it was easy to see the resemblance. Megan was slightly shorter than Hermione and had her father's round, smiling face.

"Nice to meet you," Megan chirped, her tone warm and friendly. "Where are you from?"

"London," Hermione replied, saying the first city that came to mind. "I've been home-schooled all my life." She paused, and Lizzie took up the lie.

"She came here for a visit while her folks are traveling. Hermione will be staying in Gryffindor for next few days."

"I saw you earlier," Megan exclaimed. "We were in the hallway with Snape- don't you remember, Don?"

"Sure," Donna said easily, turning on her side so her face was more visible.

Hermione and Lizzie exchanged a nervous glance. Both girls had been in the hall when Snape had first recognized Hermione; how much had they'd heard?

"We had to meet Jamie in the library, otherwise we would've stuck around," Megan added.

"Who?" Hermione asked, relieved.

"Jamie. She's our other best friend," Lizzie explained. The look she gave Hermione was of curiosity and carried a hint of challenge. "She's in Slytherin."

Hermione didn't reply right away, wondering if her daughter expected an argument. Though the knowledge that the future Gryffindors were friends with Slytherins was a bit disconcerting, it did not trouble Hermione as much as it might have. After all, if they were friends, it meant the Slytherins couldn't be all that bad anymore.

"What's her last name?" she asked, wondering if it was the daughter of one of the Slytherin's she knew."

"Parkinson," Lizzie responded immediately, before either of the other two girls could answer. Again Hermione didn't respond immediately. She wasn't sure what to say; she and Pansy hardly ever came into contact at school, except for the occasional Prefect meeting or Potions class. To learn that her daughter was best friends with Pansy's daughter- well, it wasn't something to be taken lightly.

Not knowing what she could say that wouldn't offend Lizzie, Hermione simply nodded as if the name meant nothing to her.

"Which bed is mine?" Hermione asked politely, and then went over to sit on it when Donna had pointed at a bed in the middle of the room.

"Are there any other Gryffindor girls?" Hermione's gaze roamed the room as she noted the extra bed.

"Audrey's a French exchange student," Lizzie replied. She exchanged a grin with Megan and Donna. "We probably won't see much of her. She's usually off with her boyfriend."

Hermione nodded, smiling slightly. Then, much to her annoyance, she couldn't help but yawn, and only just managed to cover her mouth.

"Did you have a long trip?" Megan asked sympathetically. "If you're tired you should have a nap before dinner. You have at least an hour."

"That's exactly what I was planning," Hermione said, smiling at the cheerful girl. She moved to draw the curtains around her bed, hoping they wouldn't think her rude for abandoning them after only a few minutes.

"We'll give you privacy," Donna said, getting up from bed with her magazine and tossing her long brown hair. She eyed Lizzie slyly. "Megan and I saw a very interesting boy with you before. Tall, blonde-"

"Sexy," Megan added in a whisper before giggling and blushing.

Try as she might, Hermione couldn't hide all the disgust on her face. The strangled look on Lizzie's face clearly showed that she couldn't decide whether to be revolted or amused.

"Who is he?" Donna demanded, eager for gossip. "Just tell us his name and we'll leave."

"Drake Cobris," Lizzie said, obviously not willing to deny her friends that much. Hermione gave her daughter a sour look. The less Megan and Donna had to do with Malfoy the better. After all, he was more than two decades older than them, already "married," and was the father of their best friend.

Megan and Donna exchanged a sly look before waving and hurrying out of the dormitory.

Hermione breathed deeply, somewhat more relaxed now that they were gone and she could freely discuss things with Lizzie. It was time to get some questions answered.

"I assume Donna's father is Seamus Finnigan," she began, and Lizzie nodded absent-mindedly.

"And Megan's is Neville," Hermione added.

"How many other 'Longbottom's do you know?" Lizzie muttered, rolling her eyes. Hermione ignored the comment. She traced a pattern on the comforter with her finger, trailing her nail in the plush velvet. From the next bed over she heard Lizzie heave a loud sigh.

"Don't worry," Hermione said comfortingly, not even needing to ask why her daughter was distressed. "We'll find your Time-Turner."

Lizzie gave her an amused, grateful glance. "All my friends think you're cool because of that."

"Because of what?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"Because you're still a teenager. You know what I'm thinking of, and you can tell when I'm upset, or happy." She grinned. "You're the one person I've never been able to successfully lie to."

Hermione laughed. "Well, technically I'm still a teenage girl, but thanks, I guess. I'm glad I have a good relationship with my daughter." She yawned again.

Lizzie stood up quickly. "You should take a nap. I'll go check on Donna and Megan, make sure they're not hitting on Dad." She turned to walk out of the room and then paused. After a few seconds she spun around. "You told him to be friendly, didn't you?" she asked quietly, her face impassive.

Hermione didn't need to ask to know Lizzie was talking about Malfoy and the way he'd stuck up for her in front of McGonagall. She nodded, hoping Lizzie wouldn't be mad. The blonde simply looked at her thoughtfully and then, not responding with words, nor a gesture, left the room. Hermione let out a deep sigh, similar to her daughter's.

She lay on her pillow, not even bothering to get under the covers. As her eyes closed she reminisced briefly on all that happened; in the space of a few hours her whole life had changed, and, unless a Memory Charm was used, it was irrevocable. Whether she liked it or not, Hermione had some sort of relationship with Malfoy in the future, and even if by knowing about it they could somehow alter their fates, she would still have a connection with him. Hermione smiled as she thought about the twins, how bright and lively and how extraordinarily like their parents they were. She wanted to learn more about them and their lives, not to mention find out what had happened to her best friends.

Perhaps being in the future wasn't so terrible, Hermione contemplated. Malfoy had already kept his word once and with luck maybe she would manage not to kill him before they were sent back to their own time. That wasn't to say Harry and Ron wouldn't kill him in the present once she told them everything, though.

And so, smiling at the thought of her best friends' reactions, Hermione slowly drifted off into sleep.

* * *

Dinner that evening was far from normal. For one thing, Hermione was seated between Lizzie and none other than Malfoy. Though he had emerged from the Formerly-Fat Lady's portrait with a fairly relaxed face, it was apparent that his temper had risen several notches by the time the food had appeared. It was obvious Malfoy was deeply offended by the fact that he was eating at the Gryffindor table. According to Lizzie, while the students in different Houses were allowed to mingle during breakfast and lunch, they were still required to sit at their own tables at dinner.

"Did you sleep?" Hermione asked politely, handing Malfoy a bowl of mashed potatoes and making sure their hands did not touch in the process.

"Yes," Malfoy responded monotonously. She waited for him to ask the question in return but there was only brusque silence.

"So did I," Hermione said after a moment, not letting her annoyance get the better of her. "Did you meet the other Gryffindor boys?"

Malfoy shook his head, wisps of blond hair falling gently back into place. "Only one; Ian Thomas." He tried to stifle the look of revulsion on his face at his next words but failed miserably. "The other two are Weasleys. Congratulations," he added dryly. "I'm sure you're very happy that all the Dream Team has children in Gryffindor.

"More twins?" Hermione exclaimed. Her eyes narrowed at how unlikely it was that Ron had also had twins. She leaned past Malfoy and glanced down at the two redheads near the end of the table. Strangely, though both of them were red-haired and freckled, neither of them looked particularly like Ron. In fact, they distinctly reminded her of another, more infamous set of twins she knew . . .

"It's Fred and George," she breathed softly, almost in awe. "Or their sons."

"Sean and Sam," Malfoy added, not seeming to hear her.

"They're not Ron's sons," Hermione said, bemused. She smiled as one of the redheads (they could have been twins, although she was positive they weren't) balanced several goblets on top of each other and then poured pumpkin juice in the top one.

"Who?" Malfoy was clearly confused. "Er- that's Weasel, right?"

Hermione couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes. "Of course, it's Ron. Which other Weasley child do you know well enough to have a rude nickname for?"

"The girl," Malfoy said loftily. "She's the Weaslette."

Again, Hermione rolled her eyes. "How original, Mal- Cobris. Anyway, you're wrong. They're not Ron's children. Although," she admitted, "that doesn't mean he doesn't have younger kids in Gryffindor, but those are Fred and George's sons."

For a minute Malfoy's eyes had a distant look, as if he were struggling to remember something. His expression cleared for a fraction of a second, only to be replaced by disgust. "They're the ones who played all those practical jokes on Umbridge two years ago, aren't they? The ones that flew away?"

Hermione nodded, her smile widening. "And if I recall correctly, some of their products have also been used in pranking several Slytherins."

Malfoy was glaring. "That was not funny," he said furiously. "I looked like a suffocated corpse for two hours!"

He was, of course, referring to April Fool's Day in sixth year when several unknown students had conspired together and put a new Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes' product, Shading Solution, ("Guaranteed to have your victims changing colors for at least twelve hours") in the Slytherins' jugs of pumpkin juice. It had been very funny when, at breakfast that morning, right before class was about to start, half the Slytherins took a sip from their goblets and instantly turned wild shades of various colors. Hermione vividly remembered having to hit Ron hard on the back when the redhead started choking back laughter at seeing Malfy turn a light violet. Not only did the potion last until after dinner, the Slytherins changed colors throughout the day, and nothing the teachers did could stop it. Over the course of the day Malfoy had changed from violet to lime green, to pure white, to baby blue, and, Hermione's personal favourite, to a shocking pink. It was the single most impressive prank Hogwarts had seen since the Weasley twins had left, a practical joke that had resulted in a whole House being in an uproar. Pansy Parkinson had spent the day in the Hospital Wing after going hysterical at breakfast when she turned orange. Though Harry and Ron both strongly denied that they'd staged the prank, Hermione had been highly suspicious when she'd seen her best friends gleefully composing a letter to the twins the week before and then a second one on April Fools.

"It wasn't funny," Malfoy repeated in a pained voice, seeing Hermione's face.

"Maybe not for you," she retorted. "It was for the rest of Hogwarts." He glared at her, but she only grinned back.

"I'd like to see you be bright pink for a day," he muttered under his breath.

"It was only for three hours," Hermione admonished, smiling sweetly at his eyes narrowed. "I timed it."

The pink color of Malfoy's skin, which had clashed horribly with his blond hair, had lasted the longest of all his colors. She had also enjoyed white, which when combined with his light, almost silvery hair, had made him look almost like a ghost.

When Dumbledore stood up at the end of the feast, Hermione thought briefly he was going to introduce her and Malfoy, something she did not want done as it would likely lead to unwanted attention. Instead, he gave a solemn, direct warning.

"If any student finds a gold hourglass, please bring it immediately to one of the staff members," Dumbledore said, his tone grave. "It is of the utmost importance. Thanks you." He gave a short nod of his head and then sat back down. Hermione could hear several whispered conversations strike up around her, discussing Dumbledore's statement. Though it would undoubtedly leave a good number of students in confusion, it was understandable that Dumbledore wouldn't want anyone other than the teachers knowing their was a missing Time-Turner in the castle. Even if the younger students wouldn't understand, it could cause panic or worry among the older students. Doubtless, some of the smarter ones had already figured out what kind of 'gold hourglass' Dumbledore was talking about. Hermione couldn't help but notice Megan and Donna, who were sitting across the table, share a worried look and then immediately begin speaking in hushed tones with Lizzie. It seemed a few other trusted members of Gryffindor were privy to the information that Lizzie was using a Time-Turner. Hermione frowned; she had never even told Harry and Ron of her Time-Turner until their situation with Sirius had demanded it- and no one held a closer bond between friends than they did.

"Where are we going?" Malfoy asked as the three girls stood up.

"We need to find Jamie," Lizzie said. "Would you like to meet her?" There was unhidden amusement in her voice that Hermione didn't understand, and she knew her daughter was holding something back.

"Of course," Hermione said. She gestured for Malfoy to follow as she herself trailed Lizzie. The group made its way to the other side of the room where several Slytherins had gathered around their table. Detached from her Housemates, one dark-haired girl stood alone in the corner with her arms crossed. She had a bored expression on her face, but her eyes roved around the Great Hall, as if she knew her best friends were coming. Surprisingly, her features lit up at the arrival of someone else. Dave and James had reached her first, and she had instantly welcomed the former with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Hermione could feel Lizzie's eyes on her, but tried not to let her surprise show. So this was Dave's girlfriend. Stealing a glance at Malfoy, she saw he, too, was shocked, but for different reasons.

"Is that Pansy's daughter?" he asked, squinting.

Hermione nodded, only briefly surprised that he recognized the girl so easily. After all, Malfoy and Pansy did spend a lot of time together, it was only expected that he should see the resemblance. Indeed, now that they were closer, Hermione could see the similarities as well. Jamie had her mother's dark hair and the same pug nose, although on her it made her look exotic rather than distasteful. Tall and gangly, she had a few freckles and warm brown eyes that Hermione wouldn't have expected to see on a Slytherin.

Jamie laughed at something Dave had said and slid her hands around his neck. She shared his gaze for a moment, her eyes dancing, before turning to Lizzie. Hermione was pretty sure she was right in assuming the Slytherin had the most experience with boys. Though she wore the same robes everyone else did, there was an air of maturity and coyness about her that was shown in her face and stance. Her eyes flickered coolly up and down Malfoy before returning to Dave. Though it seemed Jamie didn't easily express emotion, she smiled widely at her boyfriend before looking back at Lizzie.

"Hey," she said, smirking. Again she glanced at Malfoy, and then looked at Hermione for the first time. Her eyebrows instantly rose, and her easy-going, confident expression altered. Confusion flickered on her face for a moment, before she regained control. "If you've come to join Slytherin, I'm afraid we're booked solid. We'll add you to the waiting list, though, if you've tired of Gryffindor." Her tone was mocking, but not unfriendly, and she glanced teasingly at her friends. "I understand if you've gotten a bit bored in that cozy little tower of yours."

"You've been using that line for seven years, now, Jamie," Lizzie said dryly. "And in all that time no one's ever accepted your offer."

"Oh, well that's good," Jamie said in a bored tone, tossing her hair. "We don't actually allow lions into our snake's nest, anyway." She glanced at Dave in a way which could only be described as suggestive. "Well, not a lot of them anyway."

Malfoy cleared his throat rather loudly, and Hermione couldn't help but feel relieved. She didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed by Jamie, but Malfoy was clearly edgy.

Jamie stared at him appraisingly. The suspicious, questioning look in her eye was back, and Hermione shivered. The Slytherin knew something wasn't right.

"Don't you think you should introduce me to the new cubs?" Jamie asked, her expression blank again but her eyes still searching Malfoy and Hermione intently.

"This is Mia and Drake," Megan said immediately, indicating each in turn. "This is our other best friend, Jamie Parkinson."

"Interesting," Malfoy commented as he shook her hand. "Dave has a best friend named James and a girlfriend named Jamie while Lizzie has the opposite."

Dave rolled his eyes, and Jamie gave him a thin smile. "Charmed."

"I take it you've heard that one before," Malfoy said, smirking.

Jamie allowed a small smile to cross her face as she nodded. "I broke one hundred a long time ago. And Jamie's just a nickname for Jasmine." She turned slightly to shake Hermione's hand, and her eyes narrowed once more. There was no doubt her smile had become forced. "And I see you've got your own lover."

Hermione blushed a deep red, keeping her eyes trained solely on Jamie so she wouldn't have to look at either Malfoy or her kids. "Not exactly," she said, her voice unusually soft.

"We're just . . . friends," Malfoy said in a strangled tone, his pale face pinched in a grimace.

Jamie's eyes didn't lose their calculating look, although they flickered to Lizzie for a moment. "I see." Her next words, while not carefree, were no longer as measured, though they held a note of urgency. "What happened to your Time-Turner?"

"What makes you think it's mine that's lost?" Lizzie said indignantly, ignoring her brother's snort and friends' eye rolls.

Jamie looked amused. "Well, I already asked the other dozen students who have them and they were all wearing the little gold buggers around their necks."

"It's not my fault the chain kept breaking," Lizzie growled in annoyance. "Besides, it didn't fall out of my pocket."

"If you hadn't given it to me in the first place-"

"Dave, sweetie," Jamie purred, leaning in closer so her hair brushed his chin. "No one's blaming you."

Both twins had their arms folded and were scowling at each other. It seemed slightly more difficult for Dave, though, considering his girlfriend was whispering what could only be assumed were naughty things in his ear.

"Who is your father?" Malfoy demanded suddenly, looking as he couldn't restrain himself any longer.

Jamie was startled, but only for an instant. "That's an odd question," she remarked, giving him a level stare. "Why so curious?" Without waiting for answer, as if she knew Malfoy would be hard put to find one, Jamie continued. "My parents are Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini." She gazed at him almost contemptuously, including Hermione in her stare. Jamie's eyes darted suddenly to Lizzie, and Hermione caught the smallest trace of a smirk on both girls' faces. Once again Hermione was certain there was something being withheld, but after Malfoy's foolish question, she didn't ask what.

There was very little surprise on Malfoy's face, almost as if he had expected it. "What excellent lineage," he drawled, the Slytherin in him blatantly obvious.

Jamie smirked back. "I'm sure you'd love my father's family. And mother's," she added as a second thought.

"I already-" Malfoy began, but he cut himself off, wincing as Hermione's foot stamped on his.

Jamie regarded them both coolly and they smiled back, Malfoy's forced and Hermione's fake. Judging by how many lies of omission Jamie seemed to be telling them, she was liking the Slytherin less and less.

"Lizzie, I'm going back to Gryffindor," Hermione said almost automatically. "I'm still awfully tired from my trip. Coming, Drake?"

Malfoy quickly changed a sneer into another polite, obligatory smile. "Of course. Pleasure to meet you, Jasmine." He glanced briefly at the twins and then followed Hermione, failing to acknowledge the others.

"So you are capable of polite manners," Hermione said lightly as they crossed the Great Hall, unable to resist. "After all these years I was beginning to think the rumors about Slytherins were true."

To her surprise, Malfoy didn't glare; his eyes gleamed rather, as if he were delighting in a challenge. "And yet you still have yet to prove my theories on Gryffindors wrong."

"And what would those be?"

"Unending chastity coupled with maidenly virtue, foolish bravery, abundance of unfulfilling morals- I could go on if you'd like." He smirked but for once Hermione didn't feel annoyed by his cocky expression. Considering the perfect reply she had planned, she was beginning to enjoy their insulting banter.

"I'm not sure you can count morals in your list, Drake, seeing as how you probably don't know what they are, and if it hadn't been for one of those "foolishly brave" Gryffindor alumnus, you would still be small, white, furry, and undoubtedly cuter than you are now. And as for chastity-" Hermione couldn't help but grin as they reached the Formerly-Fat Lady's portrait. "Well, I've given you three children, haven't I?" She let him ponder this, and was pleased to see his face grow paler. It was quite funny, actually, how he tended to go white instead of red at embarrassment. True, even Hermione couldn't quite see a logical explanation connecting "foolish bravery" with McGonagall ending the fake Moody's punishment, but as long as she mentioned the ferret incident, Malfoy wouldn't even notice the flawed part of her response.

"Caverna Leo," Hermione said, and the portrait swung open to reveal a half-filled, bright and cheery common room.

It was only when she had stepped into the common room and had to decide whether to stay there or go up to the dormitories did Hermione realize she had nothing to do. There were none on her favorite books to read here, and she certainly didn't have any homework or best friends to keep her occupied. She turned around, swiftly deciding to go to the library.

"Oh," she exclaimed softly as she collided with Malfoy, who was standing only two inches behind her and looking nervously around the common room. Blushing, Hermione stepped back as Malfoy automatically put out a hand to steady her. He didn't even seemed to have noticed as he stared at the students, paler than usual and visibly tense. After a few seconds he dropped his hand from her shoulder and she stepped back, relieved.

Hermione didn't need to ask to know that Malfoy wouldn't want to go the library. While he was popular among the Slytherins and well-known among the other students back in the present, it was easy to see he was anxious about being surrounded by Gryffindors. It was even less likely that he would want to go to other parts of the school, where he didn't know anybody. At least in Gryffindor there were a few names he knew; for instance, Sean and Sam, the Weasley twin look-a-likes, were sitting by the fire within a group of a laughing, talkative students.

"C'mon," Hermione said quietly, beckoning him to follow. When he didn't move, not seeming to hear her, she sighed and grabbed his hand. Malfoy jerked out of her grasp, shaking his head as his eyes came back into focus.

"What?" he demanded fiercely.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let's go see what they're talking about," she urged, pointing discreetly at the redheads. It was Malfoy's turn to sigh, but he followed willingly as she cut through the other Gryffindors to the other side of the room. To her surprise, Hermione could hear Sean or Sam (she couldn't tell which) telling a vaguely familiar story. It wasn't one she'd heard before, exactly, but the situation they were describing sounded oddly familiar, the names jolting her senses as she realized what they were talking about.

"And then Sean's dad-"

"Which one is that again?" a small girl with pigtails piped up.

"Fred," replied the other boy, obviously Sean.

"Anyway," said Sam, his bright red hair barely distinguishable from the fire behind him. "Then Uncle Fred told the old toad that they wouldn't be sticking around to find out what happened to wrongdoers."

"They said "Accio Brooms," and their Cleansweeps came flying out of the Umbridge's office, still attached to their chains," said Sean, taking up the story.

"Dad- er, that's George by the way- told her not to keep in touch-"

"My dad- Fred, that is, told all the students about Weasley's Wizarding

Wheezes -"

"Number 93, Diagon Alley-"

"And when Uncle George called her an old bat, Umbridge tried to stop them by yelling for her pathetic-"

"Annoying-"

"Bloody stupid-"

"Moronic-"

"Have I mentioned pathetic?"

"Inquisitorial Squad, but it was too late. Our dads were up in the air, and then Uncle Fred had his finest moment in all his time at Hogwarts."

" "Give her hell from us, Peeves," " Sean and Sam said together, almost reverently. There were a few seconds of hushed silence broken only by the younger students' exclamations of awe. From the waiting, expectant looks on their faces, it seemed most of them had heard this tale before but hadn't tired of it.

"And you know what Peeves did?" Sean said in a low voice, his eyes twinkling as he gazed at the first and seconds years.

"What?" breathed the little girl with pigtails.

"He bowed," Sean said importantly.

The brief silence that followed was broken by a few noises of disbelief.

"Peeves bowed to a student?" said one boy skeptically.

"I swear on my honor every word we said was true," Sam said, putting a hand to his heart and managing to look quite pompous.

"Ask any of the teachers," Seam said, amused. "They'll tell you just as we did how the infamous Weasley twins turned the east wing's fifth floor into a swamp."

"Students talked about it for ages," Sam said. "They made up stories, too, like how Fred and George had thrown dungbombs at the toad, but they're not true."

"What we tell you here is true," Sean said solemnly. "The legacy of the most devilish tricksters Hogwarts has seen in a while: the Weasley twins."

"And if you don't believe us," Sam added. "You can go see the little bit of swamp that remains on the fifth floor. Flitwick left it there when he got rid of the swamp after Dumbledore came back."

"No one else could," Sean said. "Umbridge and Filch didn't know how to get rid of the swamp, and so it stayed there for weeks."

"It was buggered hard to get across, though," said a grumpy voice. Hermione was not the only person to turn and stare at Malfoy where he sat in the farthest seat from the gathering. The blond, looking surprised that anyone had heard, scowled. Hermione gritted her teeth; if Malfoy didn't stop saying stupid things, someone was bound to figure out their secret.

"You're the new kid, aren't you," Sean (she knew it was him because of his blue jumper- Sam was wearing yellow) said. "Drake Cobris." He didn't look at all offended by Malfoy's comment and held out his hand. Malfoy grudgingly shook first his and then Sam's.

"Yes," he muttered.

"Did your parents go to Hogwarts with our dads?" Sam asked. "Is that how you know about the swamp?"

It took Malfoy a minute to answer, and he had a suffered look on his face, as if the question were beyond offensive. "Yes."

"Fabulous!" Sean exclaimed, beaming. "You must have some stories, then! Who were they?"

"Luc- Lucien and Clarissa Cobris," Malfoy said, managing to at least end smoothly.

"Dad's never mentioned them," Sam said, frowning. "Maybe they were in a different year."

Malfoy only plastered a fake smile on his face and nodded. "Nothing interesting to tell, really. They had normal school years. Except-" he said suddenly. "They have mentioned the Inquisitorial Squad several times and they both thought it was an excellent idea."

Now both redheads were frowning, and they looked less inclined to continue speaking to Malfoy. "Sure, if you have members from all the Houses," Sean sniffed. "Not just the Slytherin gits."

"What's wrong with Slytherin?" Malfoy demanded edgily.

Sam raised an eyebrow as Malfoy clenched his fists. "Nothing, mate. Not anymore, at least. Heard there used to be some real prats, though."

"To be fair, some of them changed," Sean admitted. "Everyone here knows who Draco Malfoy is, right?" He looked around the group of students, and there were a few voices of assent.

Malfoy was stunned into silence at the unexpected mention of his name, and even Hermione was paying close attention.

"Who is he?" asked a first year boy.

"The Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons," Sean replied instantly. "He was a Slytherin, and he was a member of the Inquisitorial Squad."

"Was he mean?" asked a wide-eyed girl.

"Very," Sam agreed readily. He paused, considering his words. "Well, he could be if he wanted to."

Hermione tried to keep from laughing at Malfoy's indignant expression. It was amazing and genuinely funny that even twenty years in the future, Malfoy's reputation for being a heartless Slytherin was still known. What was even more amazing was that the names of people she knew and loved- not including Malfoy, of course- were being told as legends to younger generations.

"But now he's all right," Sean said confidently. "He's actually pretty nice, now, He married our uncle's best friend, and they have three children." Hermione let out the smallest of gasps when she realized he was talking about her. The part about Malfoy being "pretty nice" was also faintly disturbing.

Sean winked at the older students, who were sharing knowing looks. "In fact, two of them are in Gryffindor."

"Who?" clamored the younger students instantly.

Both boys laughed. "You all know this year's Head Girl, right?"

There were a few scattered nods.

"Well, she's one of them. The other is her twin brother, Dave."

"What House is their other child in?"

"Ravenclaw. Cissa's really smart, just like her mum."

Hermione beamed; Malfoy scowled again. Their eyes met, and they gave each other identical looks of distaste, each silently reassuring the other that they would never end up getting married.

Sean looked at his watch and then faked a yawn. "It's getting late," he said, winking at Sam. "You younger kids should be going to bed."

There were a few groans from around the area, but to Hermione's surprise, may of the first and second years did get up and head for the stairs. The Weasleys flashed identical grins at the remaining older students and pulled out a deck of Exploding Snap cards. She was even more surprised when Sam pulled out several bronze Knuts, Chocolate Frogs, and other various small sweets.

"Are you gambling?" she demanded incredulously as the remaining students got out their own treats and began throwing them into the center of the table.

Sean raised his eyebrows. "Is there something wrong with that?" he asked mildly, as if he honestly didn't know.

Hermione was speechless. "You can't do that!" she protested. "It's wrong!"

Sam held out his hands in defense. "Calm down, Mia! We're not playing for Keeps!"

"Yeah, that's only on the last Sunday every month," another boy added.

"Care to play, Drake?" Sean asked.

Malfoy shifted, looking uncomfortable. "I don't have anything to bet at the moment."

Sam shrugged. "We'll lend you stuff for tonight."

Malfoy looked quite pained as he scooted his chair closer and accepted a handful of assorted Honeyduke's sweets from the redhead. Not only was he without money or other valuable trinkets, he was "borrowing" gambling goods from the Weasleys, something Hermione was sure he had never intended to do. She grinned as he glared back, holding the candy a full foot in front of him as if it were poisonous.

"Mia?" asked Sean politely.

Hermione shook her head, tight-lipped. She crossed her arms as the game began. When a sixth year girl had won and gleefully swept up the pile of Knuts and candy, she couldn't resist from speaking up.

"Do Lizzie and Dave know you do this?" she argued, quite positive her children would have better sense than to allow gambling in Gryffindor.

"Yeah, they do," Sean said, his brow creased. "Come to think of it, where are they? Dave kept on saying he would win tonight."

Hermione could only stammer. "Wh- Dave gambles?"

Sam nodded. "And Lizzie," he said ruefully. "She's one of the best."

"Won two Galleons, eight Sickles, twelve Knuts, four Chocolate Frogs, and 43 Bertie Bott's," Sean said sorrowfully.

"Most anyone's ever won," Sam added. "Including us."

Hermione could only fidget silently as the rest of the group played out several matches; as soon as the twins came back to Gryffindor she was going to have a little chat with them on gambling and why they weren't supposed to be doing it. Lizzie was even Head Girl! She chewed on her lip, frustrated, and glanced at Malfoy. He seemed to be enjoying himself; in two wins he had amassed two Chocolate Frogs, 18 Bertie Bott's, and seven Knuts. It seemed she was also going to have to have a little chat with her "husband" on the importance of being a good influence to children.

Which he was certainly not being at the moment, even if they weren't there to witness it.

The gambling lasted another twenty minutes, until several of the students started yawing and got up to leave. When they clamored for their money back, the others were forced to stop and divvy out what everyone had put in. Malfoy, after counting up his amassed goods, gleefully announced that he'd won the most that night and returned the borrowed sweets to the Weasleys.

"Keep some of the Chocolate Frogs," Sean suggested, grinning. "You earned them." Malfoy paused; Hermione wondered for a moment whether he would be rude enough to refuse the offer, but a second later he had politely thanked the redhead and pocketed two treats.

"My goal is to beat Lizzie before we get back to the present. I won nine Knuts, four Frogs, and 31 Bertie Bott's," he boasted as he and Hermione retreated to an empty corner of the room. "How close are we to the end of the month?"

Hermione gave him a wry smile. "Not very. How long do you plan on staying here- I'm leaving with or without you as soon as we find the Time-Turner."

Malfoy, looking very put-out, opened his Chocolate Frog. He broke off a piece of the squirming cocoa amphibian and put it in his mouth. His eyes widened as he stared at the Wizard Card, and he nearly spat the chocolate out.

"What?" Hermione asked instantly, concerned despite herself as he began to choke.

Malfoy coughed before replying weakly. "The world has ended," he said bleakly, shuddering as he glanced at the card again.

"Who is it?" Hermione asked, amused. Silently he held the card out for her, wincing whenever he accidentally saw the picture. Hermione took it and almost laughed; grinning back at her, his black hair still messy as always and his green eyes twinkling, was her best friend. An older version of Harry- probably in his early twenties- clad in simple black robes with the Gryffindor House badge on them, waved. Hermione laughed outright at the look of revolt on Malfoy's face.

"How did Scarhead get his own Wizard card?" Malfoy demanded, sounding deeply aggrieved.

Hermione shrugged, still smiling. "Maybe because he-" Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as she realized she had not asked the single most important question. "Maybe because he defeated Voldemort!"

"Again?" Malfoy said contemptuously. "How many times does the git plan on doing it? And don't say that name!"

"Don't be a baby. Honestly, you sound just like Ron," Hermione said impatiently, missing the look of revulsion and disbelief that flickered across Malfoy's face. She glanced around the walls of Gryffindor, remembering the carefree atmosphere around the whole castle. This was not a place filled with thoughts of war! What if- what if Harry had defeated Voldemort- for good this time?

She quickly scanned the card's caption, ignoring Malfoy's protests as she began reading it aloud. "Harry J. Potter, also known as The Boy Who Lived, is famous for being the only known survivor of the Unforgivable Avada Kedavra killing curse, a curse that was wrought on him by the feared Tom Riddle (also known as Lord Voldemort) when he was a year old. Harry went onto face He-Who-Used-To-Not-Be-Named several times in his schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and killed Voldemort once and for all during the apex of the Second War in his seventh year. Harry, an avid Quidditch player, is now an Auror with the Ministry of Magic and resides in London with his wife Ginevra."

Hermione beamed, unable to stop the happy expression from spreading across her face. So Voldemort was dead! Harry had defeated him- no, Harry would defeat him in a few months. Not only that, but no one feared his name anymore! And- Hermione glanced down at the card to make sure she had read the name correctly and then sighed happily- it appeared he was married to Ginny! The two had become better friends during sixth year as Harry, Gryffindor's new Quidditch team captain, had helped her train as a Chaser. Actually he hadn't quite trained her, seeing as Harry wasn't particularly good at it himself. Hermione secretly believed he had simply been finding excuses to spend time with her.

"Disgusting!" Malfoy hissed. "Absolutely sickening!"

"What's disgusting?" Hermione asked sharply, her voice cold. She was getting awfully tired of Malfoy ridiculing anything good about her friends. "That your father's master is dead?"

Malfoy glared at her, seething. "Don't you dare talk about my father, Granger!"

"Funny, the last time you defended one of your parents that way you ended up as a helpless, squealing little ferret," Hermione said coolly. "It was a big improvement, although, granted, not much of a change. Now, tell me, what is so disgusting about Harry being on a Chocolate Frog card?"

"Granger, do you know how many times you have mentioned that today already?" Malfoy growled. "Not only was it annoying the first time, it's also getting really, really old." His voice changed, becoming softer and yet somehow more dangerous. "Besides McGonagall's class, have you ever been transfigured, Granger? Do you know what it's like?"

Hermione stared at him, wordless. She tried to think of something suitably biting to respond with, but his comment hadn't actually been all that mean.

"Granger?" It was obvious, from his tight but furious voice, that he was still angry and expecting an answer.

"No," Hermione admitted, wondering if the Polyjuice Potion incident in second year counted. She supposed in all fairness she had been a cat- or at least partially a cat- but that had been her fault, not someone else's spell (even if Malfoy had deserved the fake Moody's spell). Besides, if she said yes, Malfoy would probably want an explanation, and there was no way she was telling him about that.

"I didn't think so," Malfoy said smoothly, sitting back. Still glaring at her, he stuffed the half-eaten, now still Chocolate Frog back into its wrapper and shoved it in his pocket. "When you do get transfigured into a small animal by someone and then humiliated beyond belief in front of everyone- and I mean everyone- then you are by all means welcome to tease me, Granger."

Malfoy stood up in one fluid motion and, not looking back, headed for the boys' dormitories.

"Drake, wait!" Hermione called, hating to use a fake name when she was feeling so guilty. She stood up and winced at her overwhelming need to apologize. She had never heard Malfoy talk so openly about the fake Moody's punishment, nor had he ever seemed quite so bitter about it. And- Hermione bit her lip as Malfoy didn't even pause in his way up the stairs. He did have a point. Even if Malfoy was a rude, conceited prat, it was true that Hermione had never been turned into a helpless animal against her will on the whim of a murderous Death Eater in the guise of a teacher- not that the perpetrator's identity really had anything to do with it . . . Perhaps it wasn't quite fair to use it against him every single time he annoyed her. Hermione listened, disappointed, as Malfoy's footsteps faded into silence.

She was walking dispiritedly back to her seat as the portrait swung open and a tight-knit group of students walked in. Hermione grinned half-heartedly at seeing the twins and James. The Gryffindors moved a few inches apart, revealing the last person. Hermione gasped when she saw who it was. Jamie, still looking as cool and confident as she had in the Great Hall, flicked her hair and glanced around the common room with disinterest.

"What are you doing?" Hermione hissed. "She's a Slytherin!" Even two decades in the future, even with Voldemort gone for good and the Houses united, it wasn't possible for a Slytherin to be allowed in Gryffindor.

"Relax," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. "No one's here."

Hermione gazed around the room. It wasn't quite true- while most students had gone up to the dormitories during her doomed conversation with Malfoy, there were still a few studious Gryffindors left.

"That's not-"

"They're not paying attention," Dave said, exasperatedly. "Besides, we've done this lots of times." Hermione noted with disapproval that he was holding Jamie's hand.

The Slytherin was smirking at her, one eyebrow raised. "Are you going to tell on me, Mia?" she asked challengingly.

Hermione glared furiously at her, no longer caring whether she was the twins' friend. "No," she said fiercely. "I'm not a tattletale!"

"Funny, you went running easily enough to McGonagall when Harry got his Firebolt," Jamie responded without missing a beat.

Hermione was stung. "I did not!" she snapped angrily. "Well, maybe I did, but it was only because I thought Harry was in-" She broke off mid-sentence, and her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Lizzie gasped, James started, and Dave let go of his girlfriend's hand as if he'd been shocked. Jamie looked triumphant.

"You told her?" Hermione demanded, wheeling to face Lizzie.

"No!" Lizzie argued. She turned to stare at Jamie. "You know?"

"Well, now I do," Jamie said dismissively, waving her hand and going to sit in an armchair. She crossed he legs and smiled cheekily. "I was suspicious before, and I had to figure out if I was correct."

"So that's why you wanted to come to Gryffindor so badly," Dave exclaimed. "To trick Mum!"

Hermione folded her arms, annoyed that she had been so easily duped. "What could possibly have made you suspicious in the first place?"

Jamie gave her a genuine smile. "Like I haven't seen your pictures enough times?" she demanded.

Hermione was confused. "You mean Malfoy's?" she demanded. "Does Pansy have a lot of photos of him?" She didn't even want to think of how close Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were or ever had been. Of course, maybe they had just been friends and the photos were perfectly innocent. Maybe.

Jamie rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but Dave interrupted her.

"Speaking of him, where is Dad?" he demanded, glancing around the common room even though it was already quite obvious Malfoy wasn't there.

"We had a- an argument," Hermione said shortly. "He's upstairs." Much to her annoyance, Dave and Lizzie exchanged a knowing look.

"I'll get him," Dave said wearily, getting up and heading for the stairs.

"Dad always said you two never got along, but I assumed he was exaggerating," James said, giving her a small grin.

Hermione couldn't help but smile back at her best friend's son, the only one of the future quartet who seemed sensible and (for the most part) innocent. "It's not like Harry and Malfoy get along either."

"Or Ron," Jamie interjected.

Hermione turned to stare at her, frowning. "How do you know Ron?"

Jamie rolled her eyes. "Please. Who doesn't know about your days at Hogwarts? That is, who knows your children and doesn't know?" she amended.

Lizzie beamed. "Dave and I enjoy telling stories, Mum," she said, grinning wickedly. "Especially the Polyjuice Potion one."

Hermione paled as she heard a familiar, cold voice speak.

"What Polyjuice Potion?" Instantly everyone looked Malfoy. The blond stood with his arms folded in front of Dave, scowling at the group. His clothes didn't look at all rumpled, and Hermione wondered what he had been doing up in the dormitories if he hadn't been lying on his bed. In fact, he looked as neat and well-groomed as ever. His pale grey eyes, once again malevolent, flickered briefly to her and his glare intensified.

"Nothing," Lizzie and Hermione said together.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes but didn't argue. Still scowling, he sat in the chair Dave had vacated beside Jamie, noticing her for the first time. He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Dave rolled his eyes and sat on the floor in front of his girlfriend.

"Hello, Malfoy," Jamie said calmly, her dark eyes dancing.

Malfoy's eyebrow went up further. "Funny, she was still calling me Drake the last time I saw her," he said mildly. "Has someone told her in between then and now or has Granger let off her big mouth again?"

Hermione reeled back, her mouth involuntarily falling. He merely sneered at her. She was more hurt than outraged, the worst part being that there was some truth in his words. She had fallen for Jamie's trick and accidentally given them away.

"What's the matter with you two?" Lizzie demanded sharply. "You seemed to be getting along well enough when we were in the Great Hall." She glanced from one angry parent to the other, frowning crossly. "Honestly, you're supposed to be the adults, here."

"Elizabeth, I am still seventeen," Malfoy replied just as severely. "And, unless she has been dealing in more illegal extremities, so is Granger. We are merely twenty years in the future."

"Actually it's 25," Hermione interrupted scathingly. "I've been doing some calculating while you've been sulking the entire afternoon." A few minutes ago she had been feeling guilty and sorry for Malfoy; now, after he had refused her when she'd tried to apologize, she was furious.

"My, my," Jamie said, sounding quite amused. "Dad wasn't kidding about you two. You really are a sight to see- or hear."

"Listen, do me a favor, and the next time you see Zabini, tell your father to mind his own business and to stop trying to cut in on my time with Pansy. Even if she's his future wife she's my class partner!"

Jamie drew back, shocked. "Are you having an affair with my mum?"

Malfoy swore angrily. "She's not married yet! There's no affair to be had! We're not even dating! We're just trying to work on our school projects in private without Zabini showing up all the time and flirting with her!"

"I'm not surprised he doesn't trust her with you," Lizzie said, making a face at him. "Considering you'd say stuff like that in front of your wife."

"I am not his wife!" Hermione cried exasperatedly.

"And never will be," Malfoy added firmly.

Luckily, by this point they were alone in the common room and no other Gryffindors heard these would-be astonishing comments.

"Then you really should learn not to snog in front of us," Dave said severely. "Teenagers don't like seeing their parents so . . . in love."

"It's emotionally scarring," Lizzie added.

Malfoy stood up rather quickly. "I would rather snog a hippogriff than Granger," he said vehemently. "Her saliva is probably poisonous." He turned and began to stride away.

"Where are you going?" Jamie demanded. "I haven't heard the whole story yet."

"Why don't you ask Granger about it if you're really curious. I'm sure she'd love to tell you about it; she might even mention parts from fourth year as well! The mudblood's got quite a perverse fascination with one particular incident . . ."

They all stared as he rounded the steps to the boys' dormitories once more. Dave was sullen, and Lizzie was once more outraged at the offensive term. Hermione was getting used to it.

"Does he mean when he got turned into a ferret?" Jamie asked, surprised. "I already know all about that."

There was a faint echo of cursing on the stairs.

"Would you look at that," Jamie said brightly, smiling cheerfully. "Looks like he heard me."

* * *

Hermione woke the next morning feel very refreshed and with several clear goals in mind.

Manage to apologize to Malfoy without getting either of them mad in the process.

Ask Lizzie the details on how Voldemort had been defeated and what had since happened to her friends (she was starting to wonder if Ron had indeed ever had children).

Meet her younger daughter.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and then running a hand through her tangled hair. After Malfoy's abrupt departure the previous night they had hastily explained all the details to Jamie and then she had insisted on going to bed, immensely tired even after her short nap. Hermione scanned the room quickly. There was something tugging at the back of her mind, something she'd forgotten . . .

Her eyes fell on Donna's brown hair, her head buried under a pillow, and she gasped.

The girl in the dungeons! The one she'd seen when Malfoy had flipped the Time-Turner! She had completely forgotten about her!

Hermione jumped up, eager to get dressed and tell Dumbledore about the girl. If she had seen them disappear, maybe she had gone to get help from the present Dumbledore! Maybe people were looking for them at the very moment! Perhaps someone had even found the Time-Turner she and Malfoy had dropped!

Just as Hermione was finished combing her hair, the door burst open and Lizzie ran in, panting for breath.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked. "It's Saturday morning."

"There's someone here to see you," Lizzie said, grinning widely. "Well, two people actually. I think you'll want to see them."

"Who?" Hermione demanded, her heart leaping at the thought that someone had already found the Time-Turner and come after them. Lizzie shook her head and didn't answer, beckoning for her to follow. Hermione obliged, chasing after the blonde down the stairs. They pushed open the Formerly-Fat Lady's portrait and climbed out at a more sedate pace.

"Who is it?" Hermione asked again, bewildered at Lizzie's state of excitement. She stopped short at seeing the couple standing at the edge of the stairs in front of Gryffindor.

One of them was Malfoy.

The other was herself.