Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter and I make no money from the proceeding work.

Variance

Chapter One: Meetings

He remembered the first time he saw her. He never could forget though he didn't realize at the time the impact of their first meeting. It was the beginning of something strange and binding, something that never should have begun, yet it now engulfed his mind with turmoil. It was the beginning of sleepless nights, of questioning unquestionable values, of relearning truths, but also of plumbing the unknown depths of his heart and soul.

It was the beginning of an obsession.

The Leaky Cauldron. A tavern like most, with old friends quietly drinking in time-worn companionship, and loud laughter and jesting from schoolboys home during the summer goading each other to greater follies and more daring acts typical of youth. A place of meeting for starry-eyed lovers at private tables as well as jaded old men and their paid ladies, boldly striding or innocuously sneaking to a private room. A den where plots are hatched in hushed whispers and business endeavors cajoled and bargained. But this tavern, this Leaky Cauldron, is different from most. Every pub has its cadre of people performing their roles, but not many include phrases such as "Ministry of Magic has done it again," "the Quidditch Supply Store has a new Shooting Star!" "remember our days back at Hogwarts?" They also do not contain clients wearing robes of varying material and quality, nor pointed hats, nor does the occasional wand come in view. And certainly, the Leaky Cauldron is unique in the fact that it is a doorway from one world into the next, from the world of technology and electricity, to the world where problems are solved by a wave of a length of wood, by magic.

Only those with magic pulsing through their veins, awoken magic used but once, can see the normally hidden dim doorway into the tavern.

Which is why when the little slip of a girl opened the heavy wood door and entered, not a soul paid attention. People too absorbed in their own business did not notice, even when the girl with more hair than sense stood still in the entranceway, staring wonderingly at the strangely-dressed denizens within. Her eyes caught the bartender waving his wand to pour a beer, a broom sweeping under a table without a person behind it, and a youth dressed in black robes nodding over his copy of Standard Book of Spells Part Five. Though her common sense was momentarily absent, for she was alone without guardians, her sharp mind studied the environment and drew a conclusion.

She took a small step, eager to explore yet cautious of such an unfamiliar setting, but without warning a large figure with long blonde hair descended majestically from a staircase, shoulders thrown back and eyes imperiously sweeping across the room as if they belonged to a ruler surveying his kingdom. Behind him followed another man, this one scurrilous with an air of obsequiousness to the first man as well as a faint expression of distaste and anger. He quickly brushed by the first man and disappeared through another doorway, and the blonde sneered. The girl instinctively knew that this man held the answers she sought, and, having made up her mind, quickly stepped forward while he was briefly paused. She softly but insistently tugged at his outer robe, and he whirled around with a curse on his lips. The girl jumped, startled, but gathered her courage.

The man scowled dangerously at the blatant audacity. His wand, half-drawn, he placed discreetly up his sleeve. The chit had surprised him and even six years after the fall of the Dark Lord, he still had not lost his ingrained instincts of survival. The small girl fidgeted, but gathered her courage and spoke.

"Sir, is this really magic? Are you a wizard?"

He stepped back, wrenching his robes from her dirty grasp, and crossed his arms, fingers tapping slowly. He glared at her and opened his mouth to utter a derisive reply but was interrupted.

"Well, you see, sir, I think it's magic, and I think I might be magic." She paused as if expecting a response, but quickly continued breathlessly before he could interject. "I don't know anyone who has magic, but the other day I was tired of being chased and being teased and hurt by stupid Tommy Marks and Johnny Davies and then they cornered me after school and I was so scared but just so tired of it all and I wanted to hurt them and so," she paused again and continued as if she disbelieved herself, "I hurt them, sir, with my mind. I just wanted them to feel my pain, I wanted it so badly, and they dropped to the ground, screaming."

The man's expression did not change, but inwardly he was stunned. The girl was describing accidental magic, something that all children show in some form if they are magical, but he had never heard of someone performing a Cruciatus as their first manifestation of magic. Such a feat required incredible concentration, a strong will, and a powerful innate magical ability.

His curiosity drove him to question the impudent child. "How old are you?" he asked with a drawl, somehow implying both nonchalance and innate superiority.

She bristled at his tone and raised her chin to stare him directly in the eyes. "I'm nearly 8, sir."

The man shook his head slightly, as if the innocent answer contradicted his preconceptions with the result something to be disbelieved. Assuredly, this was a future student at Hogwarts who would be in his son's class. Perhaps her inherent power could override her more than unfortunate bloodline, or at least partially conceal the defect. He was forced to admit to himself that any child, even a mudblood, who could summon the appropriate measures to cast an Unforgiveable was worthy of being a companion to his son. So long as she understood her place and was sorted into the correct House.

Every leader needs followers, and if he had any influence over the matter, his son would be a leader.

The child fidgeted beneath his cold visage; her earlier bravado had vanished when it achieved only more scorn. She stuck out her hand. "My name is Hermione Granger."

He shifted his gaze to her hand hanging in midair and took an abrupt step backwards. "My name is inconsequential to you, girl. You are in a different world now. I suggest you learn about it and who not to bother with your incessant rambling."

He turned sharply on his heel and strode through the far door. She lowered her hand, confused about his abruptness, but eyes gleaming as if she held the key to Paradise. Suspicions about a strange new world confirmed, Hermione swore to herself that she would discover all she could.

The man stirred himself, lost in thought once more, noting with annoyance that it occurred far too frequently. He prided himself on control, yet these connected recent and past events always sent him to deep contemplation. It made him uneasy.

If there was one thing Lucius Malfoy hated most of all, it was the loss of control

He sat back in his office chair and steepled his fingers. His office was his inner sanctum, for no one entered without his explicit permission. It was the only place he could let down his guard. Perhaps that was why he allowed his mind to wander a well-traveled path back to the past once again.

Their second meeting was not so innocently orchestrated on his part, but never had he thought that it would progress as it had.

When Lucius returned to Malfoy Manor after putting down the chit Hermione Granger to his satisfaction, he found that he could not let the opportunity pass by him. Slytherins were supposed to be opportunists, and he was no exception. To find such potential in a mudblood was galling at best, but if he could control the leash and turn a likely future supporter of that meddling old muggle-lover, Albus Dumbledore, then many possibilities opened up for Lucius. With his tutelage, the girl could be used to great political advantage to advance his own agenda. Lucius took a moment to savor the potential in the scheme, and to plan.

During the midnight hours, he rose from the black silk sheets of his kingly bed and dressed in his normal black robes. Earlier, as soon as he realized the possible usefulness of the girl, Lucius had discreetly placed a non-verbal Tracking charm on her, one tied to her magical signature. He had done so with his wand while it was up his sleeve and hands behind his back. Inwardly praising himself for his forethought, Lucius activated the charm. So long as she did not enter a high-magic area such as Hogwarts or Diagon Alley or discover it and remove it herself, he would be able to find her. Since she had only just found out about magic, he thought it was quite doubtful that she would even know to look for such a charm, not to mention her lack of knowledge of how to remove it.

With the hood up, concealing his identity from casual confirmation, he apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

Lucius stood in the muggle world outside the dim doorway to the magical pub. He closed his eyes, feeling the bond between his wand and the spell, and he felt it tug slightly in one direction. He followed it carefully, never losing the trace. Though it took him several hours and much irritated grumbling, Lucius eventually found himself standing in front of a neighborhood of upscale apartments. He reached for the doorknob, but paused before drawing his wand and casting several charms to ensure that his presence remained unnoticed and unknown. He unlocked the door and cast both a Notice-Me-Not Spell and an Invisibility Spell on himself. Though the invisibility charm was notoriously unreliable and lasted only a few minutes, that was all the time Lucius needed.

He slowly opened the door and felt the tug of the charm grow more insistent, signifying that the target was close at hand. He followed the directions of the spell until he stood in front of an apartment, then through the rooms until he reached what was most assuredly the bedroom door. Lucius cracked open the door and cast a Sleeping Charm on the motionless body in the bed before striding into the room. From a robe pocket, he pulled out a shrunken book. He dispelled the shrinking charm and laid it on top of her bedside desk, which was cluttered with other choice readings. He frowned as he glanced through the titles. The chit had forged ahead and had figured out how to enter Diagon Alley, exchange muggle money for wizarding, and found the bookstore, regardless of the danger of wandering alone. Unless muggle bookstores sold, So You Think You're A Wizard and A Brief Expose on Recent Wizarding History, but he strongly doubted that.

In spite of himself, he was impressed. This slip of a girl, without any knowledge of the wizarding world or how it worked, had navigated it successfully. Lucius had no doubt that he himself could do so in the muggle world, as if he ever would lower himself to it, but the thought that his son could do the same was much less certain. More like laughable. Draco was much more likely simply to order a random passerby to do his bidding rather than use simple observation that the girl had likely done.

Still, no matter if he was impressed or not, he had to curb her behavior. With glimmers of ideas and half-hatched plots percolating in his mind, Lucius conjured up parchment and a quill and ink and wrote a quick note to the girl. It advised her strongly to read and to absorb the knowledge contained between the covers of the book, and contained a stern warning to stay out of the wizarding world. Though he told her that it was for her safety, it was in actuality for his own safety and plots as well; he wanted no other influences on her until his was absolute.

Satisfied, he turned to leave, when the moon broke through the clouds and shone through the window on Hermione Granger's face. Lucius was struck by the glow of her fair skin, the shadows caused by rifts and valleys in her face as well as her bushy hair. For a brief second as the soft light illuminated her, he saw the image of the girl as she would look in the future, as a woman superimposed over the childish face. It was a study in contrasts, yet a picture of innocence. Her lips were not pursed, nor were her eyes staring defiantly or furtively averted, as they had been today. Instead, they were full and smiling softly, eyes bright and crinkling with laughter. Her baby fat disappeared, leaving taut and beautiful flesh. Her eyebrows thinned and arched, her chin bespoke pride and confidence. Her innocence became a look of self-assurance and poise granted by inward strength. It was a mesmerizing portrait of her potential and Lucius could not look away.

He blinked and the image vanished as if it had never been there. He found his right hand stretched out towards the girl, fingers nearly grazing her cheek, and jerked it back. Already doubting the vision of comeliness out of the homely girl, he berated himself for his uncharacteristic folly and foolishness, reminding himself that the chit was a future investment and nothing else.

Without looking at her again, he turned on his heel and disapparated with a quiet pop.