Vagary

va·gar·y

/vāɡərē/

noun

an unexpected and inexplicable change in a situation or in someone's behavior

When Harry awoke, the first thing he did- and the only thing he'd ever imagine doing- was limp over to see if Hermione was alright. The figure had fled, and it seemed the spell hadn't knocked him out for long, as no one had bothered to check on them yet. There was no one in the alley itself anyways, but Harry was more worried over Hermione as she rubbed her head and looked at him wearily over the windowsill that separated them.

"What happened?" She hissed at him, sounding disappointed in them both for their poor handling of their assailant.

"Dunno," Harry replied pathetically, "I finally got a chance to spell the tosser, and he took me down instead... and took my book, too."

"What?" Hermione said in horror. "Merlin's sake, the papers will do anything, won't they?"

She got up quickly and grabbed her wand, pulling Harry up as she brushed off and looked around uncertainly, any disappointment she may have held completely diminishing in favor of what looked like distress.

"Yeah," Harry said all the while, looking her over while she analyzed the situation. "Except this time when I find out who's responsible, they're going to be dealing with the DMLE."

Hermione noticed something Harry didn't, evidently, when with a near unreadable expression she apparated them away from the crime scene. He held off chewing her out for breaking protocol when they stumbled into the halls of Grimmauld Place, but no quicker did he notice that than Hermione thrust his own hand before her eyes. What was there startled them both, but she had it ripped from his ring-finger before any speech occurred.

"H.P. and D.M., two-thousand and one," Hermione muttered as she read the inside of the ring, her face contorting, "What-"

"What are you on about, 'Mione?" Harry asked, his tone of distress bordering on anger since she didn't seem inclined to answer.

Looking quite the bit annoyed herself, she put her left hand before his eyes where a silver ring nearly identical to his and an engagement ring encased one of her nimble fingers.

"Oh."

Backing away from him, and rightfully so as Harry felt he was on the brink of going insane, Hermione handed him 'his' ring back and took off the ones on her finger.

"H.G. and S.S., two-thousand and two."

"That's last year... did we get obliviated?"

At the mention of that spell, Hermione tossed him a dirty look but pushed by it, realizing sensitivity about her parents right now wasn't exactly appropriate then cast a quick diagnostic charm that came back negative.

"No, it doesn't make sense anyways," Hermione said, starting to pace, looking about the house with a frustrated glare. "Two-thousand and two would more likely be the future if we'd have been obliviated, not our past. I certainly don't remember getting married... I remember us both being quite single. And I don't know why anyone would just erase our spouses from memory, although it's a possibility."

Something had happened, and she was doing her best to figure it out while he could only gawk. Time and memory charms weren't exactly his specialty as an Auror, spell-casting, tracking, and training new recruits was more his speed.

"Your book!" she answered almost immediately. "That figure must have transported it back somehow, which would explain all the weird changes in the alley, and well, our marriages that we don't remember. It's a lot easier to transport objects than people, that's why you can't summon a human with an accio charm."

"You mean that it changed time?" Harry asked, not sure how to come to terms with such a thing. "How is that possible? It shouldn't be possible."

"I have no idea, but we are going to have to be very careful until we... figure this all out. If it landed in the wrong hands, and I can't exactly sing our attacker's praises, things could be much more different than we'd like. And we have to fix it, too, Harry. I have a feeling there may be some changes we don't like."

"Right," he replied quickly, hearing the sudden absence of a sound they probably should have noticed in the first place: a shower. Someone else was there.

Harry's Auror training kicked in immediately, pushing Hermione behind him as they both drew their wands, the bathing room door opening with a squeak. The stairs creaked as well, as Hermione whispered to Harry suddenly, "What if it's your wife?"

Harry just shook his head, holding his wand tighter. It didn't matter who it was, and despite the fact his house looked the way he left it at first glance, if not a little brighter, this wasn't their world.

"Is that you down there, Hare?"

Hermione and he connected gazes, and she gave him her sincerest apologetic look. Harry put the dots together much more slowly until he wore a frown, shaking his head at her. They were face-to-face with a post-shower ferret in seconds, Harry's blood running cold as he stared at the half-naked man pathetically.

"Whoa.. What's with the wand?" Malfoy noticed Hermione after jovially ignoring Harry's still-poised wand in the air, pushing it down with a single finger. "What happened at lunch, Herm?"

"Draco," Hermione said slowly, much to Harry's horror.

"Hermione!"

She silently pleaded with him with her eyes, trying to control the situation as she glanced back and forth.

"I've got to sit down," Harry broke whatever silence it was that reigned over them all, pushing directly pass Malfoy without a single touch.

Sighing, Hermione gave Malfoy a rather sympathetic look and followed her friend.

Harry pushed through the wooden door, swinging it open with a huff as he pulled the first chair he could with a screech and threw his body into it like he would toss his used Quidditch robes. The boy-who-lived didn't want to dare think about anything involving a marriage to Malfoy, for surely someone must be pulling a joke on them, he was sure. Hermione, however, didn't look as sure when she sat before him and took his hands away from rubbing his tired face.

"I understand how you must feel, Harry. But we've got to figure out what's going on before we start... trudging about."

"Do you understand, Hermione?" He bit, but it didn't last long when she recoiled, almost letting go of his shaking fingers. "Sorry, I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean-"

Their grip was tight as they looked at one-another, green and brown eyes wavering in a new bond. Everything had happened in the blink of an eye, like lightning had hit and now all of hell had broken loose. They were both going through it, not just him. Those few seconds as they shared the stagnant air and musty smells were the first few seconds of peace they'd had since that morning before leaving their homes.

Of course, peace never lasted long for them. Malfoy had slinked his way into the room looking as though someone had kicked his crup.

"Is everything alright? We haven't had a row in so long, I-"

"You didn't do anything," Hermione answered him with a much gentler tone than Harry would have, standing up and releasing his hands. "In fact... we need your help."

"What happened?" Malfoy replied, his eyes glancing at his husband with a bit of worry, obviously wishing to reach out and touch him... though he could tell it probably was not in his best interest.

"We need a quick recap of the past twenty-three years."
Surprise lit up the blonde's face as he nodded carefully, "Yeah, I reckon I can do that. Weird... but I can."

Hermione sat back down in her seat, dreadfully surprised Draco Malfoy had accepted such a request without batting an eyelash.

So, while Malfoy seemed to gather his thoughts a bit, grabbing a chair, Harry looked around the kitchen and dining area, sighing in content to see his house unchanged. All that looked different were a few pictures he couldn't really see- Hermione had been harping him for weeks to get new prescriptions for his glasses- and the whole of it looked much cleaner. Had the walls always been that shade of purple? There was a bit of a sparkle to the place, really, but he wasn't sure it was for the better. Maybe he really should get new glasses...

"Well, Harry, Ron, Blaise, and I all grew up together as kids in the magical world. It was just the four of us for a long while, as our parents were all good friends-"

"The Malfoy's associated with the Weasley's?" Hermione blurted, earning her an amused look.

"That's right. My dad worked with Arthur a lot through the ministry, and my dad, well, he was in love with your mum, Harry, but everyone knew your parents were destined or some muggle fantasy she always spoke about when they were young-"

"What?" Harry interrupted.

"I will explain, just let me do it, will you two? You wanted the story, I'm giving it to you," Malfoy said, a bit harshly, though he calmed down just after his words. "I don't... know why I'm doing this, nor why you're right pissed at me, so-"

"Of course," Hermione answered for her and Harry, taking the liberty of casting a charm on him that he tossed her a very crude glance for, wordlessly putting his own end to it, his shoulder still a little sore.

"Anyways," as Malfoy started again, both wizard and witch could see how odd he felt, explaining a life to two people who were supposed to know it already. "It was just the four of us, growing up together as the best of friends. We were bloody thrilled when we got to Hogwarts, even after being separated into two different houses where Harry and Ron met you, Hermione. Luckily enough, Slytherins and Gryffindors had most of our classes together. It was funny, actually, how we started just... being friends with you because you would not leave us alone. We four snuck out one night, near Hallow's Eve, and got caught because you turned us in to Ron's older brother Percy. For some reason, only known to eleven year-old boys, we decided that you were our mate after that. The loudest howler wasn't even Molly's, funny enough, it was definitely Lily's, to this day she's told us she was arse over-"

"Wait," Harry couldn't help himself, "my mum and dad, they're...?" He trailed off and looked right at Hermione with sheer uncertainty, her own mind obviously wondering the same thing.

Squinting a bit, Malfoy cocked his head and said rather dumbly, "They're in Godric's Hollow... like they've always been, Harry."

Never having been prone to crying, Harry couldn't help himself as his chest simply give way to an indulgent sniffle. It ended before it began, however, as Malfoy reached for him, as if to comfort him like a lover should... like a husband would, but Harry pulled back. He couldn't let him do that, it wasn't... this wasn't real life.

This finally seemed to breach Draco's limits.

"Alright, one of you needs to tell me what's going on."

Hermione huffed and looked at Harry before starting.
"Malfoy, as you can tell, we went through some interesting magic this past hour... I think we got shifted somehow across, well, across time somehow... from a time where his parents are dead."

"You mean to tell me you two remember something completely different than all of what I just told you?"
Now he had to understand a bit more of their uncertainty.

"Yes," Hermione replied with pursed lips and a straight back.

"Bollocks."

"My sentiments exactly," Harry agreed, though he looked a bit sick about it.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Please," they spoke simultaneously, smiling falsely.
Everyone was extremely uncomfortable as they sat together recalling living an entirely different life that neither knew at all. Harry hated the affection he could sense coming off of Malfoy, and as he nervously fiddled his wand, he could tell Hermione was displeased with it too.

"So, we got to really know each other first year, but after that, it was downhill, or uphill? Regardless of your muggle euphemisms, the five of us were it. Hermione, you and I graduated top of the class, but you beat me by a single O in History of Magic because I missed class one day in seventh year.. Best not to tell you what for," Malfoy looked over at Harry with sad eyes.

"Over the years," he continued, "The lot of us all figured out what we wanted to do with our lives through our classes and past-times, a few of us aiming for the ministry, though you never wanted your father's place, Harry."

As if pausing for dramatic effect and to see if the pair was willing to interrupt, Malfoy withheld the information for a solid breath.

"James Potter, Minister for Magic. Now Hermione, you're different. I think one day, James will gladly hand over his title to you.

"I don't work anymore, but I bloody well tried. Wasn't for me, besides, Harry goes out and almost gets killed enough for the both of us as an Auror. Hermione you're head of a department, Blaise is running around doing whatever it is he does, bonkers he is, never worked a day in his bloody life. And Ron," at this Malfoy scowled heavily, against the fondness he spoke of the man earlier, "is currently dating my little sister, but he works with the older Weasley's, Fred and George."

Hermione and Harry had to hold their breath.

"Aries, Merlin save me, insists he is who she's going to marry, but blimey, I hate even looking at them. For a while I thought she was going to end up with Luna, but I could never tell if those two were just friends or what. You know, they're both off in their own worlds more than Harry here is trying to get himself killed, which I swear at this point us Potter's should own a portion of Mungo's for-"

"Malfoy?" Hermione interrupted his seemingly vicious need to ramble.

"It's Potter," he said lowly, but seemed to understand he'd gone on too long.

"Is there anything else we should know?" Harry asked regardless of the sickness he felt coming forth, his stomach lurching at the mere thought of having to share his house with Malfoy; let alone a bed.

"Do you really remember none of this, Hare?"

He shook his head in small motions, keeping the nausea at bay.

"Herm?"

Hermione frowned. "No... I'm sorry."

"Fuck... well, I don't know what is of importance really, it might be best for you to ask questions," he said sincerely, "I'll be as much help as possible, promise."
The blonde wizard looked daunted by the task, yet still willing to help. Harry was distracted to see Malfoy's left hand resting elegantly on an upright leg crossed over the other, the same silver ring he himself had.

Deep inside he couldn't hate Malfoy. Pity him, maybe, but not hate. This was a man who knew a completely different world, a different Harry Potter. Of course, that fact did not make an iota of the situation normal or easier to comprehend.

All the thoughts in his jumbled and rather abused mind distracted him enough that Hermione asked the first question.

"Tom Riddle, does the name have any significance to you?"

Draco's eyes widened, and he sat to attention in a matter of seconds.

"Yes, it does. He was a magical child, killed at a very young age by Albus Dumbledore. He is in Azkaban to this day for that crime, but there's rumors that the dementors are so afraid of him that he still has his mind all these years later."

Both Hermione and Harry sat in shock, though the witch was able to snap out of it much more quickly than her wizard companion.

"You mean to say that he was never Headmaster of Hogwarts?"

"No, he was there when they hired on the next Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, before the aurors found him out and arrested him."

They should have been appalled, Malfoy was expecting it, but Hermione was quick to give him a redacted version of why they weren't necessarily saddened at this discovery, and Harry cringed at the amount she had to leave out for brevity's sake. They moved past this as quickly as they all could.

"My god-father, Sirius-" Harry started after, letting him absorb some of the contrast between their worlds, but the other wizard seemed disinclined to let him finish.

"Spoiled you rotten, and after you hit third year, he started traveling. Right now he's in Romania with another of Ronald's brothers, Charlie, keeping dragons."

Harry smiled far-off, and Hermione seemed to look proudly at her friend.

"What about Remus Lupin?"

"You mean Professor Lupin? We had him for seven years worth of dark arts instruction. Best teacher in the school no offense to you, though, Hermione-"

"You said I work at the ministry," Hermione answered with a bit of a pale to her cheeks, her mind ten steps ahead of the conversation.

Harry knew that look, he'd known it for many years of chasing down a horrid wizard, it was a look that meant she knew something awful.

"Your husband is a professor," Draco smiled as if he'd already told her. He must know the look too. Now if only they would tell him what it was they both knew.

"My husband... Severus Snape?"

"You're still brilliant, that's good to know."

Harry wished he hadn't ever heard her say it. Quickly, he tried to think of other people he cared about, this world proving to be difficult, if not blissful in some ways.

"Do you know anything about Hagrid?"

"Professor Hagrid," Malfoy answered again, "In-"

"Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Exactly. Since third year when the previous professor retired. He is a right odd wizard, though, I must admit."

"Wizard?" Hermione echoed, brows knit past the nightmare that was confirming the identity of her husband. At least she could get past it.

"Yeah, he went to Hogwarts too, just like most of the staff. If I did my math correctly, he would have been at school with Riddle, right?"

Angry at the fact people saw Voldemort as a victim here, Harry couldn't help himself when the words started coming.

"Yes, but Hermione left out that Riddle would have caused Hagrid to lose his wand and schooling, atop the many other things he would have done there, like murder."

"Right," Malfoy replied, though it didn't ease the tension that had come from the room.

He seemed to realize something, however, looking at the watch on his wrist in great interest.

"Bollocks," he said and looked wide-eyed at the both of them. "Dinner is in a couple hours."

"And?" Hermione asked him, her contempt shining through the cordial way she'd been acting with him just then.

"It's just... kind of a thing, the lot of us since we're all so intertwined now. We have these dinners all the time. You two, Severus, my father, and Harry's parents-"

"What about your mother?" Hermione posed, truly curious.

"She passed on after having Aries... I didn't know her well, I was barely two."

"Your mother saved my life," Harry offered. His brain fought heftily on the fact this wasn't the Malfoy he had known and never would be. "In Hermione and I's recollection, anyways."

Hermione nodded in agreement, and it seemed if Malfoy hadn't looked at Harry with love before, he certainly was then. He checked his watch again in an attempt to hide the emotion flooding through.

"You should get home to Severus, Hermione, he'll have been expecting you. You'll be back here soon, and it is Friday, so we'll have the weekend to figure this out. Do you plan on telling anyone else... or trying to... fix what happened? Not that it's not bloody interesting having visitors-"

"No!" They both nearly shouted, though Hermione was thinking ahead. "We won't tell anyone for now just to make things easy when we do fix things, because we very much should, for your sake and ours... which Harry and I will talk about after dinner, I suppose."

Draco nodded.

"Alright... should I help you home? Or maybe you can take the floo?"

Both parties were distressed about being separated in such a foreign environment, but Hermione had been right and they needed to make their exit smooth by blending in for as long as they could, which meant she needed to go deal with Snape.

So with a hug and appointment to discuss their leaving later, Hermione left, which meant Harry was alone with one Draco Malfoy.