Hearts of Glass

Rating: M

Pairings: Draco/Hermione Friendship, Remus/Hermione, Lily/James

Summary: Her world changed with a sickening crack. Her life, gone in bits of sand and glass. The longer that Hermione and Draco are stuck in 1973 the more the question becomes should they be sent back, rather than can they at all. After all, Death Eater's roam the halls of Hogwarts, living ghosts walk onward to their untimely demises and Voldemort breathes fresh air.

AN: This story will be Part One of a Two-Part Series. The main pairing will be Remus/Hermione, but there will be a heavy focus on a Draco/Hermione Friendship—the friendship will be a very slow developing one. They will be beginning in the Third Year of Hogwarts, but this story will stretch to at least Sixth Year so there WILL be mature content, just slow developing. There will be a Bi! Sirius and both Draco and Sirius will have some serious unrequited pining. I am currently writing Chapter 5 and have through Chapter 10 planned, so there will be regular updates!

For those of you who have been following this story- I have went back to do a bit of re-writing to improve the story!

Prologue: Strangers in the Mirror

It was raining.

The damp smell in the air brought her a mild comfort, for reasons she didn't quiet understand. It was a bitter, cold rain, one that her wool coat could not prevent her bones from feeling. As uncomfortable as it should have been, she took a strange liking to it; feeling something—anything at all. What had she expected? Greeting's with open arms? Shouts of joy upon seeing her unfamiliar, but bright face? Had she really expected for everyone just to pick up where they left off, with no question, no wondering? No hostility? How many years had she been gone? Three? Had it only been three years? Three years felt like a life time. It was a lifetime ago.

She would tell herself not to dwell on the past but the statement itself was too ironic to bear with any sincerity. Half of her heart was in the past so how dare she push herself to not dwell in it?

What would she be doing in Wiltshire if she wasn't dwelling in the past?

The Tonks' residence was nestled in a quiet, perfectly normal muggle neighborhood at the corner of Chestnut and Pine. It was not a luxurious home, but a small, white brick home with a small front porch and a muggle swing in the front yard. It was quiet and unassuming. Rain splashed beneath her boots as she came to a halt in front of the white picketed gate leading to the residence. The question of why she was here at all pushed at her. It wasn't like she had personally been close to Andromeda at all. She barely knew her – in comparison to the boys she was as stranger.

But when all those you love are dead—when the ones you have left feel such hatred they will not gaze at your face—she longed for familiarity; above all, she needed clarity.

She had little time to regret any decision to come to the Tonks' residence before Andromeda herself opened her heavy wooden front door and stepped onto the porch with arms crossed. She had aged much—her face still familiar—still holding that classic pure-blood beauty that Black's were so well known for. But her eyes were kind, honey pools that peered at her with a scrutiny you would with a long-lost acquaintance. Her hair—chestnut brown—was tied in a loose bun on the top of her head. She wore muggle clothing—a light beige top with well worn jeans and bare feet.

"Twenty damn years," Andromeda shouted above the rain, "And you still look like you have a stick shoved up your ass."

She huffed a laugh, still holding onto the gate but not moving forward. It was as if she moved any more—even a hair—and everything around her would be fixed in reality. "I cannot say the same for you Andromeda. You have changed much since you lost the Black name."

"I have not lost anything," she said with a familiar severe look on her face, "If anything, by loosing the Black name I gained much." She paused before stepping off of the dry safety of her porch into the rain. Not a word was spoken but with each step of her bare feet against the concrete walkway toward the gate, her grip on the small picketed door tightened. Nose to nose with Andromeda Black—Mia couldn't breathe. She was so much older, and yet Mia remained the same. Locked in time at 16. What would she think? What questions would Andromeda ask? This had been a mistake—

Andromeda reached her callused hands forward and gently pulled down Mia's hood from her head. Her eyes fluttered shut as Andromeda' held her face with a gentle touch only a mother could possess.

"Will you please come inside?" Andromeda asked gently, "We have, much to discuss and I do not wish to leave a friend in the rain."

Mia nodded, her long black locks saturated by the rain that was quickly turning into a downpour. Mia crossed over the gate, following Andromeda onto the dry porch in silence. She paused at the front door speaking in a low voice, "Remus—Remus, He," Mia stopped, clearing her voice. Words were so damn difficult. Difficult to admit to yourself, but harder to speak outload. "Remus did not wait for me. He said he left his love in the past—where it should stay."

"Mia," Andromeda said her name gently, but with a hard edge to it. "It has been twenty years for us. What else were you expecting? To show up, not a day older and expect Remus to be sixteen again and wildly in love again? It has been a hard twenty years—to expect anything less than confusion and anger is foolishness."

"Perhaps I am foolish then," Mia whispered, walking into the small living room of the Tonks resident, but not sitting down, "I expected understanding, at the very least."

"Mia," Andromeda nearly laughed, sitting down in a small armchair near a warm Fireplace. It was a cozy room, but plain. Tan arm chairs and a sofa with a small box tv that looked scarcely used—a thick coat of dust across the screen. The only evidence of personality in the room at all being pictures hung about the room—a young girl in all of them who seemed to have the ability to change her appearance. Who she assumed to be Andromeda's daughter—seemed to take a great joy in it. Each time she would change her hair color she would point to the other portrait's and laugh. "Mia, Remus' is giving you understanding—but what you are asking for is love unconditional. Love that waits through time and space." She gave another harsh, sharp laugh that was classical Andromeda- familiar. "That is not understanding—that is fantasy."

Fantasy? Mia huffed a laugh as she looked up to the mirror above the mantel. She had been Mia so long, she scarcely remembered who she really was. Dark chocolate hair falling down her back in wet, but beautiful large ringlets. Large, open blue eyes framed with long thick lashes. High cheekbones with full lips. Her entire identity was a lie? How long had it been since she looked in the mirror and saw herself? Since she had heard her own name?

"My name is Hermione Granger," Mia whispered – to the mirror more than Andromeda. "My mother and father are muggle dentists. I was in my Third Year when Draco Malfoy and I was taken back to 1973 in an accident with a time turner."

She chanced a glance over at Andromeda, who was looking at her through wide, eyes. The shock in her face wasn't overly apparent—but it was there. A mild undercurrent of surprise. "Well, I be damned," Andromeda whispered to herself more than Mia, "Welcome home Hermione Granger."

Mia shook her head. Being called Hermione felt foreign. She knew logically that it was something she would have to adjust too. Just as she had Mia. But being in Mia's skin felt more like home than Hermione. At least now it did. "I don't have a home—" she said as the glamour began to fall away—leaving wild light brown locks, a long, angular nose and small, thin lips. "Not anymore."

Mia never took her eyes off that mirror through the silence. She never took her eyes off the stranger in the mirror.