Hello Everyone,

I am beginning to love the Narcissa and Hermione fandom, and I love the possibility of Narcissa in the future before everything went crazy. I have a wonderfully supportive lover and then boom here is the first chapter of A Time We Can Never Be. This one is slightly different than my last story. First it is darker. Both Hermione and Narcissa are tortured souls. They will need each other to find their ways. This will be LONG, and chapters will not be updated at the rate of the last story. Sorry but you guys were spoiled with that one. Lol. I don't own Harry Potter and I got the spell off line and you can find it at the address below. I hope you enjoy this little story and will remain patient with me if updates are not swift.

Thank you for being so kind and generous in the last story with your reviews and I hope this story doesn't disappoint.

Thanks,

Snow

wiki/Draught_of_Peace

She was sticky and disheveled, something a Black should never be but she had been at the potion in front of her for hours. She looked to the potion door and watched for any signs of movement. She charmed the suit of armor next to the potions class to fall over and crash into various different segments so she can clean up and get out of the potions class. She sighed as she went back to the potion before her. She read and reread the book many times as she followed instructions.

To brew the Draught of Peace, follow these steps:

Add powdered moonstone until the potion turns green.
Stir until the potion turns blue.
Add powdered moonstone until the potion turns purple.
Allow to simmer until the potion turns pink.
Add syrup of hellebore until the potion turns turquoise.
Allow to simmer until the potion turns purple.
Shake powdered porcupine quills vigorously until they are ready and then add until the potion turns red.
Stir until the potion turns orange.
Add more porcupine quills until the potion turns turquoise.
Allow to simmer till the potion turns purple.
Add powdered unicorn horn until the potion turns pink.
Stir until the potion turns red.
Allow to simmer until the potion turns purple.
Add more powdered moonstone until the potion turns grey.
Allow the potion to simmer until it turns orange.
Add more powdered porcupine quills until the potion turns white.

On her third cauldron of Draught of Peace she added 3 drops of murtlap essence and stirred counter clockwise 7 times. The potion then turned from white to gold and then she took a spoon and tasted the potion. It tasted chalky, with a hint of medicine. She looked down at her arm and watched a bruise fade before her eyes. She looked up and apart from the anxiety of being caught by her mentor, Professor Slughorn, she felt …. At peace. She sighed and began filling bottled of the gold liquid and then then summoned even more bottles to fill it with the white liquid. She looked at her timepiece and noted the time and need to hurry to clean up her mess. Slughorn would be here within the hour. She went through her mind how her life will change in the next 6 months. She shuddered, her life already changed. Lucius Malfoy only left her become a potions master under Horace Slughorn because potions could be useful in the future.

"With a war brewing my love, a potions master in our midst can mean life or death," Lucius whispered threateningly, then grasped her by the cheeks with one hand. His blue eyes bore into her own frosty irises. When she went to break way, tear her pale face from his thin spindly fingers, she shown the strength of a pureblood witch. When she turned to walk from him, he grasped her arm, and she gasped as the back of his hand impacted her right cheek. She spun and looked at her husband to be keeping her tears in, her shoulders back.

"So regal, and so utterly mine. Your skill with potions is one skill I will exploit," he edged closer to Narcissa, and he hungrily took her lips, "And I will always take what is mine, and if it isn't mine, I will make it so."

Narcissa was a pureblood witch. There was no room for emotions when it came to marriage. Once upon a time she was drawn to Lucius. Maybe it was the striking features. The platinum blonde hair and the air of nobility and superiority. When Bellatrix came to her and broke the news of her betrothal three years ago, she was one part sad to know her youth was now gone, and one part excited to begin a new chapter in her life. At first he was an attentive, and gentle man. He even supported her apprenticeship with Slughorn, and promised to be married her and allow her to achieve her mastership. Then he became course, brutal, and …. Unyielding. He no longer made love to her. He no longer made her scream from pleasure or feel any emotion other than darkness, and pain. She was a 21 year old pureblood witch. She would overcome this trial of hurt, and do her duty even if she had to resort of the help of potions to get her through the day, and through the night, and to wake up sore, and brutalized, day after day.

She sighed as she steadied her nerves when her potion bottles were filled, and placed in her side bag that hung across her frame. There was half of a cauldron left of the Peaceful Draught. When she lifted her wand to banish the potion she jumped as the potion door opened and a cursing Slughorn tripping on armor burst through the door. She saw the ingredient fall and all she could do is cover her face.

KABOOM! Narcissa felt the blast as she felt her body jerk, and shift as her feet left the floor. Her back hit the wall. Her eyes closed in pain as she slid down the wall and her feet sprawled in front of her. She slumped to the side. Feeling every bone in her body ache as they slammed to a halt on the dungeon floor. She felt hands move her body down ever so carefully, and fingers probe her prone body for injuries. When fingers skimmed her left side she gritted in pain. But when finger met her shoulder and neck she screamed out in a pain so fierce and blinding she lost consciousness. All she could do is hope she could keep her apprenticeship with Horace, and Lucius would never find out.

Narcissa opened her eyes and witnessed a sight she had seen only a few times. The infirmary at Hogwarts never really changed, and many times she wished she had thought to be a healer instead of a potions mistress. She felt a soft and warm object in her hand and slowly rolled her head over to the side and looked into warm brown eyes speckled with gold. A warm smile spread across a pale angelic face framed by wavy hair frizzy at the temples as it escaped a ponytail holder. There were smudges or dust and a cut above her right brow that was healing slowly before her eyes. Narcissa went to stand up anxious about getting back home, back to the animal she called husband, but a gentle hand stayed her progress.

"I am Hermione Granger, welcome to Hogwarts. You, I guess landed in my potions class, luckily after hours. I am also the castle mediwitch until we can hire another to take my place," Hermione softly spoke as she saw the angular features of the witch before her began to wake up. For one split second she saw anxiety, stress, and fear, cross the witches beautiful face before a mask had been thrown up before she confirm her suspicion. Hermione tilted her head and her brow furrowed. She had seen this witch before. Maybe during the war? The blonde witch looked Hermione up and down as if assessing her, taking her weight as a witch. Hermione blushed and looked to the side and reached for a cloth soaked in Murtlap Essence. Hermione gently clean cuts, and gashes on arms and hands. She studied particularly hard on a severe laceration along the blonde's cheek. Slowly, steadily, and softly she wiped blood away, placed the bloodstained rag in the bowl and then wrung it out as she went back to using the healing and disinfecting solution.

"I am Narcissa, Narcissa Malfoy. Thank you for your kindness," Narcissa whispered as she let Hermione touch her, clean her, and take care of her. Narcissa paused as she saw emotions fly across the woman's face. She watched at the brunette slowly put the rag back in the bowl, and stood. Gone was the warm kind eyes that seemed to sear into her soul, and before her were the cold eyes of hatred and … pain. Then with excused herself politely, if just a tad shortly, and told her to stay and rest then went out of the infirmary. Narcissa let her head fall back on the sheets of the infirmary bed and began to let her tears fall from the corner of her eyes.

"She was kind, ever so kind. Do I even deserve such kindness after all I have done?" Narcissa whispered to herself and then felt the effects of a sleeping draught take effect. She must have slipped it to her while unconscious. The last thing she thought of her gold speckled brown eyes, and pale slips lidding into a wonderfully bright smile.

Outside Hermione's hand clutched her heart. How could that be? How in the hell could Narcissa Malfoy be on her infirmary bed when she was sentenced to a term of house arrest as her husband rotted in Azkaban and her son lay 6 feet in the dirt at the Malfoy family cemetery in Wiltshire. Hermione absently touched her left arm where her war scars were hidden from the world. It was with a heavy heart that she walked up the hall toward the Headmistress's office. Once to the giant statue she spoke the password aloud, "Catnip." Stone steps appeared and Hermine climbed up. She walked into an office decorated in shades of red and gold, but over the years, McGonagall began in incorporate various other items and mementos from the various houses. She was like Hermione in that she wanted to bring the houses together.

Minerva McGonagall was a striking woman even in her late years. She came down from her bedroom in a nightgown and a dark green shawl. Her half-moon glass sat on the tip of her crooked nose as she walked as fast as she could to tend to the emergency. She greeted Hermione with a small embrace.

"We have a problem Minerva," Hermione began as she led the old professor to the infirmary. When Minerva saw the prone young woman sleeping soundly on the infirmary bed Professor McGonagall. She turned to Hermione and saw her stony features.

"You must figure out what happened to her," McGonagall ordered Hermione. Hermione nodded as if she was on auto pilot. She could not deny her feelings. She hated anything Malfoy. Hell she would have paid to have put Draco in his grave, and smirked as Lucius Malfoy screamed and threatened vengeance if he ever got out of his prison. She felt a soft grasp on her shoulder and saw the bright eyes of her mentor.

"The war is over Hermione. It's time to heal. Maybe the best way to do that is to heal your enemy," with those wise words ringing in her ears she went to clean up the area around Narcissa Malfoy. She fetched another blanket and covered a woman that looked no older herself. Hermione crossed her arms and leaned against the foot of the bed. She was stunning, majestically gorgeous laced with a deadly aura that oozed off of her in droves of thick darkness. She watched her charge with equal part trepidation, reservation, and curiosity. Her thoughts were brought back to the care she was obligated to give as a whimper passed Narcissa's full pink lips.

"No… please. Don't…Lucius…please…" Narcissa's murmurs brought Hermione to her bed side and all the brunette could do was take the blondes pale thin fingers and hope her nightmares would seie. Even though she shuffled everyone in a while in her sleep, Narcissa's whimpers and murmurs stopped. Hermione finally let go of her hand and only one thought, what am I to do with a death eater associate, dark pureblood witch who hates Muggle born witches such as herself?

No answers came as she went to a bed near the witch and stayed the night just in case she needed to help the woman at a moments notice.