Disclaimer: JK Rowling created Harry Potter. I simply play with her toys.

Chapter One

The anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts was rapidly approaching. Hermione looked at the invitation to the ministry ball in her hand with a heavy heart. She was sitting in her London flat, staring at the piece of paper as if it was a death warrant. She had been invited last year and the year before as well, and she had faithfully attended. This year, though, she was questioning if that was really something she wanted to do. Not that she had wanted to go last year either. Now, though, this year, she would be alone.

Normally, she could at least count on Harry to be there with her if she had to go to some horrible war-related function. This year, though, Ginny had had the bright idea to book a vacation around the time of the anniversary to make it impossible that the Potters be able to attend.

Ginny Potter was a good friend to have until she stopped feeling so friendly toward you. Hermione and Ron had tried giving it a go just after the battle. They had dated until the following summer when, a week after Ginny and Harry's wedding, Hermione had broken up with him. It really was quite a surprise that two people who were so different lasted that long anyway. Regardless, and despite agreeing that they were better off friends, Ron did not take the break up so well. He had relied on Hermione to help him get through the issues he had regarding Fred's loss. He had relied on her to be steady while he broke down. After the break up, he just seemed to shut down. He had pulled away from his friends and started drinking to deal with his feelings about things. He had started to party at muggle clubs. Initially, the family thought he was simply turning out to be a bit like his father, gathering a keen interest in muggles. The things he found interesting were not the things Arthur liked, though. Ron had started using drugs on his many nights out and one night, a few weeks after Halloween, he had crashed his new muggle car into a tree. He had died at the scene.

The Weasley's and Company had found out when a ministry liaison to the muggle police department came to deliver the news during Sunday dinner. No one had known about the drug use, and it was only proven by muggle blood tests and statements from his muggle friends that he had a problem.

The next May, the 2nd anniversary of the end of the war, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry had all gone to the ball as was expected. It was, understandably, not as good as the year before. A year prior everyone had still been running high on the fact that the war was finally over…and Ron was there. The next seemed to have a cloud overhead of loss and suffering endured by the survivors. The new trio had left all confiding in each other that they had no intention to go to the next or any thereafter if they could manage it.

After Ron's death, Hermione started to spend a lot more of her time with Harry and Ginny. Initially, it was well received. Unfortunately, after a while it started to annoy Ginny. Finally, the day came that she exploded. Hermione had left her new job for the day and immediately stopped to pick up everyone's favorites at the Vietnamese place a few blocks away from Grimmauld Place. When Ginny had answered the door, Hermione (in what she presently acknowledges was very rude) walked right in, uninvited, and put the food on the table.

She had turned back to Ginny to say hello to see the girl's face almost as red as her hair. "DO WE EVER GET A BREAK OF YOU? MAYBE RON DIED BECAUSE GOING OUT DRINKING AND PARTYING EVERY NIGHT WAS BETTER THAN SEEING YOUR STUPID FACE .DAY!"

Hermione reeled back before walking out of the house and going straight home. Harry had come to her flat later, after having been told by Ginny what had happened. He apologized on her behalf, and Hermione had seen them regularly since, but it wasn't the same. Ginny was civil but cold, and Hermione knew that she partially did blame her for Ron's death.

So, it was with no great surprise that Ginny had booked a vacation over the time of the ball and that Hermione had not been invited. Still, it would have been nice if they had given her a heads up so that she could have made other plans as well.

She looked out the window at the foggy street below and groaned. Half mindedly, she grabbed her teacup and took a sip before grimacing. Cold. Why couldn't she make up her mind?! The invitation had been here for a week already, and Kingsley had mentioned in passing that he was still awaiting to hear from his office that she'd be attending. "I would like you to make a speech, of course, since Harry won't be able to be with us. It would please the people there to hear from one of the Golden Trio." Ugh. Funny how the only people who wanted to hear about the war over and over were the ones who didn't actively participate in it.

Maybe it would be good to go to the ball? Her time with her closest friends had greatly , and she was quite lonely. Perhaps she could try to bolster a closer friendship with Neville or Luna? Sure, Neville was a lot quieter than she was used to…and she often wished Luna was quieter, but friends were a necessity. Especially this year when she would be the only one of the Golden Trio able to attend. Neville would certainly be happy to have company to his misery at attending. She knew the Gryffindor man had no interest in being there or being in the spotlight. Luna… was there anyone who understood her mind anyway?

She was weighing the options when a pecking on her window interrupted her thoughts. An everyday barn owl was on the branch right outside of her window with a letter. Sighing, she threw the invitation to the ball down on her desk and crossed the room toward the owl. It was most likely a missive from her boss. To think, before this job she thought she was devoted to work! Her boss apparently never left, and assumed she always wanted to be there, too.

She opened the window and quickly untied the letter. Surprisingly, the owl stayed. That meant it was most likely not from her boss. He generally just expected her to drop was she was doing and come in. Weekend be damned. And the sender: Prisoner Correspondence, Azkaban Prison

Who on earth would be writing to her from there?! She was not on friendly or professional terms with any prisoners, nor did she want to be! She walked out of her bedroom and into her tiny living room, plopping down on the couch.

Anxiously, she opened the letter and read.

Ms. Granger,

Prisoner Lucius Malfoy requests your presence at your earliest convenience. If agreeable, please owl back a reply of the date and time you intend to visit at least 24 hours in advance of your arrival.

Visitation hours are from 9 AM to 4 PM Monday through Thursday for a duration of no more than 1 hour.

Regards,

Harding Drugel

Warden

Hermione stared in shock at the letter. Lucius Malfoy? Why?! For two weeks after the battle, the Malfoys had been under house arrest. Before the trials, it was widely expected that Narcissa and Draco would be going to Azkaban along with Lucius, despite Harry and Hermione witnessing for their defense. Lucius's trial was first, and he had proven that he did, without a doubt, care about his family when he said he had forced them to do everything against their will and better judgment.

Narcissa and Draco had been heavily fined and sentenced to 2 years of probation and 500 hours of community service. Lucius had been sentenced to life in prison.

Hermione gingerly placed the letter on her coffee table before standing and starting to pace the room. Should she go? She had plenty of time off saved, so it wouldn't be an issue to take an afternoon off. But…it was Lucius Malfoy. It had to be important because there was no conceivable reason why he would ask for her. But…it was Lucius Malfoy. It could be nice to see the man who calmly watched her be tortured cuffed to a table. But….it was Lucius Freaking Malfoy!

Finally, Hermione walked quickly into her bedroom and grabbed some parchment. She quickly penned her reply and sent it on its way.

Mr. Drugel,

I will accept the invitation to visit Lucius Malfoy. You can expect me to arrive Monday morning at 12:30.

Hermione Granger

Regardless of the very persuasive cons to going, Hermione Granger was still a very curious witch.

Work on Monday morning was unbearably slow. Hermione had had a morning full of obliviating muggles that had seen a dragon fly by their commuter train. One after another, they sat down with her to "give a statement" in an office at King's Cross before leaving thinking that they had seen the most beautiful double rainbow to ever exist. Planting and wiping the same information over and over could put anyone to sleep.

Not that Hermione wanted to sleep. No, she wanted to know how Lucius Malfoy had the gall to request to see her. What could he possibly have to say that would be of use to either of them? Unless it was for fun and his intention was to berate her?

If that was the case, and it was possible in her mind, she planned to make it hard for him to do so. She had spent extra time getting ready that morning. Her hair was in a neat bun, sparing only a few tendrils to frame her face. Her makeup had been carefully applied, leaving her with a soft glow to her cheeks and red lipstick charmed to stay vibrant and in place. She had even spent the weekend shopping for new "work clothes" and having her nails done.

She had decided to wear her favorite new outfit. A thin black pencil skirt clung to her toned legs which were perched in not-so-practical red heels. A cream acromantula silk blouse rested atop the skirt, charmed not to wrinkle without dulling its slight shimmer. A simple gold necklace plunged down to a modest if provocative glimpse of what lay beneath the blouse, a round locket she'd been gifted from her parents years before adorning it. Simple yet healthy sized diamond studs sparkled from each ear. Finally, a very finely tailored open robe finished the ensemble. The material was a luxurious black with subtle red piping. Altogether, it was a wonderful blend of muggle and magical. She'd be damned if she let him think a woman would look better sticking with one or the other, the racist prick.

The last muggle left the office, and her coworker Daniel poked his head in. "All done out here. At least it was an easy one this time. Imagine what we would have had to plant if the dragon had scorched the train!"

She laughed lightly and nodding. "Back to the office then, I suppose?"

"Nah. I'm going to head on out for lunch. You said you'd be taking the afternoon off?" he replied, smiling at her softly.

"Yes, but I'll be in tomorrow as usual," she replied, standing from the desk.

Daniel glanced down at her outfit before blushing and quickly meeting her eyes again. "Would you like to join me for lunch then before you leave for the day?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Not today. Some other time though?" She smiled at him as charmingly as she could manage. He was a nice guy and pretty cute, if not quite as academically minded as she was. Hufflepuffs.

"Sure!" He seemed to pause for a moment, gathering courage to say something else. "Do you have a date for lunch? You look great!"

"Of sorts, but I would much rather go to lunch with you if it wasn't already planned."

Daniel blushed again, shuffling slightly. Adorable. "Oh, well, maybe on Thursday?"

Hermione walked around and lightly touched his arm as she walked by him and through the door. "That sounds lovely." Finally, he had asked her!

Azkaban was certainly not a pleasant place to find oneself. Of course, it was much better than it had been, considering the dementors had been taken out of the equation. The ministry was at least smart enough after the war to decide that beings that had pledged allegiance to two separate Dark Lords were not a good choice for guarding dangerous, dark wizards.

They seemed to have left a stain on the place, though. At least, Hermione assumed that was what it was… Perhaps all prisons evoked feelings of misery and loss? She wouldn't know considering that she had never been to a prison other than Azkaban.

She had arrived on the small island to be greeted by bitterly cold, salty sprays of water rushing into the boat as it ran ashore. It was easily fixed with a quick cleaning and drying charm, but the fresh memory of freezing water… it was enough to dampen her already grumpy disposition.

A guard had met her there and walked her inside and up two flights of stairs. Inside, she had her body scanned for any contraband items and was then asked to give up her wand for the duration of the visit. She had scoffed at the guards at the checkpoint. They should know that there was no one less likely to try to break out or assist Lucius Malfoy, save perhaps Ginny Potter. "Protocol, Miss Granger," the one that held her wand said, consolingly.

She nodded her with reluctant understanding before she was being led down a rather darkened hallway. Along the way, she tried to look straight ahead and avoid the stares of some of the prisoners. At the end of that hallway, they took a sharp right, and she caught eyes with the man in the cell on the left. Antonin Dolohov. He drew an imaginary wand and aimed it at the girl before bellowing an unknown curse in Russian at her, slashing his hand wildly. She stopped in shock, staring at him. Seeing his curse hadn't worked, he had looked down at his "wand" before collapsing on the floor of his cell, sobbing. The guard cleared his throat to gain her attention, and as she started to follow him again she heard the sobbing start to morph into hysterical laughter. Apparently, a third stint in Azkaban was enough to break the man, dementors or no. The murderer of Remus Lupin deserved no better.

Finally, they reached the end of the second hallway where an unsecured door was opened for her. She stepped inside to see a sparse room. A table and two chairs were present and nothing else. The guard told her she could sit if she liked before leaving to go get the elder Malfoy.

Hermione instead stood beside one of the chairs, unsure what to do. Maybe he had gone as crazy as Dolohov and had concocted some crazy reason to see her so that he could attempt to kill her? Perhaps he wanted to give her imaginary chocolate biscuits and play Parcheesi?

She didn't have to wait long as the door opened within just a few moments. She might have walked right by his cell without knowing it. He was seated and bound to the chair with a strong sticking charm. He was currently looking down at his hands, silent.

"Do you wish for me to stay here or wait outside, Ms. Granger," the guard asked, briskly.

"You can wait outside. Thank you, sir," she replied, looking only at Lucius. Her suspicion must have shown on her face. As he looked up at her for the first time a smirk crossed his face. He looked her slowly up and down and cleared his throat before gesturing at the other chair. She took a moment to study the man. Regardless of the ugly, loose prison uniform, he still looked as if he spent a good amount of time taking care of himself. He still looked in shape, and his good posture and broad shoulders indicated a strong back. He appeared to have showered recently and somehow even managed to have a clean shaven face. His hair was a bit shorter than she remembered, a platinum curtain only brushing his shoulders. She wondered how short they had cut it when he first arrived. Imagining him with short hair seemed… strange.

Hesitantly, it seemed, the guard stepped out. The sound of the door shutting startled Hermione. Lucius snorted delicately, if there was a way to do so.

"I assure you, Ms. Granger, I have retained a bit more sanity than Mr. Dolohov. He always did find you to be a challenge to be overcome. I don't bite… unless it is wanted." Hermione finally sat down, still staring at the man across from her, unfazed by his comment.

Folding her own hands in an unconscious mimic of Lucius's own position, she stared at him. "Happy conversation aside- why did you wish to see me, Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius's patented smirk widened slightly. "I have a proposition for you, Ms. Granger. One that, if you agree to, will potentially make for a better world and existence for not only you and me but the wizarding world as a whole."

"Do you want chocolate cake with your dinner? Loathe as I would be to do it, making your accommodations here more pleasant would be the only way I would wish to make your life any more comfortable," she replied, glaring at the man.

He chuckled that time, relaxing into his seat a bit more. "So quick with a response, Ms. Granger. I would, presently, love a piece of chocolate cake. However, I am thinking more in the grand scheme of things, so to speak."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I don't know what that could possibly be, but please do tell."

"First, a small history lesson. At my trial, you admitted to travelling back in time with a time turner in your third year to prevent a 'grievous miscarriage of justice' against a certain Hippogriff that I had managed to have ordered for execution. Is that true?"

Hermione nodded once and then waited for more.

"Time turners are a fascinating creation. The time turner you used was created in 1961 by a wizard named Hobart Flemming." Hermione nodded, waving her hand as if encouraging him to go on. Did he think she could be so stupid as to be in possession of one without looking up the history behind the device?

"Perhaps fortunately for us, Hobart Flemming was not quite so diligent in research. If he was, he might have stumbled upon the fact that, over 250 years prior, a much more powerful Time Turner had already been created."

Hermione laughed. "Malfoy, that is ridiculous. I think I would have read about such a thing."

"Perhaps, Ms. Granger, if knowledge of it was not kept absolutely secret."

"Prove it," she said, defiantly, cocking a single eyebrow.

Her expression seemed to amuse him. "I'm sure you remember when the King of Scotland, Prince Charles, was finally crowned. He was responsible for sanctioning a training of his countrymen that, by the time his great grandson was born, was powerful enough to slowly and methodically wipe out the British monarchy with the help of French and Irish allies."

"What? The Nine Years War ended with William the third being recognized as the King of England, Scotland, and Ireland!"

"For you and me, it did. For many, many others, it did not. In fact, my several times great grandfather was sent back to help the crown prevent it from happening. It prevented the destruction of the Malfoy line as well as saved the British monarchy. The Malfoy received most of their entitlements in Britain as a result and planted roots here in England on the crown's sickle."

Hermione looked at him and tried to sound patronizing, but the intrigue in her eyes belied her feelings. "Are you saying that your….great whatever Grandfather…"

"Thibault," Malfoy supplied.

"…created a time turner that sent him decades into the past?"

Lucius nodded acknowledgement. "Partially, Ms. Granger. In fact, his wife Amandine created the time turner. When they were in their sixties, the sons of Amandine and Thibault were killed for sympathizing with the English in a small skirmish several miles outside of Marseilles. The soldiers then killed their wives and children. They left Amandine and Thibault alone. They were too old to produce any more heirs and, enraged, Amandine said she would find a way to get retribution against the Scots. She was a brilliant woman, much like yourself, and after fourteen years of rather obsessive research, completed her project. The final spell, however, drained her of most of her magic, and she died after sharing her wishes with her husband. In his grief, Thibault travelled back and started her work for her. He was successful…obviously."

"If true, that is fascinating. However, what proof do you have?"

Lucius exhibited an expression that she had never seen before on his face. He smiled, widely, eyes sparkling almost as much as Dumbledore's used to.

"Why, the time turner, my dear," Lucius said, staring at her intently. "I've used it myself. Every Malfoy heir, during the summer after they turn 21, uses it to go back exactly one week. It is meant to keep our proud heritage strong in our minds as well as remind us what a powerful thing every single decision can be."

Hermione's face drained of color at the prospect. A tool like that was…dangerously powerful. One could bring back the Dark Lord! But, if that was the case, why hadn't it been done?

"If that is the case, why did you not bring back the Dark Lord? Or help him be more successful during his first uprising?" she asked, skeptically.

"Simple, my dear. By the time the Dark Lord fell the first time, I was already disenchanted with his….methods. I was quite happy to live life having been a victim of the Imperius curse, and I hoped he would never return."

Hermione snorted. There was a major flaw in that argument. "Fine, so why not prevent his second uprising?"

"Because after the heir uses the device for his week, it is locked back up in the manor for the next heir. It is impossible to open it twice and the blood wards that were put there by Amandine and Thibault's second life son, Louis, are unbreakable unless one is willing to pay the penalty of his magic."

Hermione groaned. "Well, it sounds like it is a moot point anyway, Mr. Malfoy. Even if it does exist, and it does sound quite fantastical, it is inaccessible."

Lucius nodded once. "To me, yes. To you, certainly. However, Draco turns 21 in less than 2 months."

Hermione stared. "So you intend to send him to the past?" She had to stop him! Who knows what he could mess up!

"Ms. Granger, if that was my intention, why would I invite you here? I can feel your eagerness to go report this right now."

"Then, I'll ask a second time. Why am I here?" A feeling of dread was starting to settle into Hermione's bones.

"Going back as Thibault did, or I did, does not mean one does not live at the same time as your past self. Instead, you replace them. They cease to exist, and the traveler can never return. That is why there are not two Lucius Malfoy's running about. I wish, for the umpteenth time, to affect real change. For more honorable reasons this time, I hope. I want Lucius Malfoy to change for the sake of changing and to not have the stain on his soul that I do. I have lived my life plus a week, and I know exactly what the rest of my life will look like. I asked you here to ask you to do a favor for me that would also benefit the rest of the wizarding world. I wish for you to go back in time and change the path for the Malfoy line."

Author's note: This is my first piece of fanfiction in over 10 years. I finally broke out of my hermitude because this plot line simply would not leave me alone. I finally gave in two nights ago after about three months of wishing a story something like this already existed. Be the change you want to see in the world? Currently, it is 17K words strong in about the span of eight hours writing. There is plenty more to come after that as well, but I am unsure as to how often I'll update. Still, please review and tell me your thoughts. The pressure you put on me will help me finish this out! Also, please forgive any formatting errors. Fanfiction's uploading has changed a lot since I was last on here. Also, the first time I posted this, it refused to show up in the archive. For the few that actually did manage to find it, I hope you enjoy continuing the story here.