Fated D.M. & H.G.

Year 1996 •3

Draco stopped when behind the doors was a hall filled with other doors. Some red, some white. On instinct he opened the first white door and was greeted with an image of a blond boy catching a small Granger by her elbows in a book shop.

He watched the interaction, watched himself extend his hand to her after releasing her elbows, introducing himself. She took it, shaking it with disbelief at hearing his name.

He watched the two of them laugh at something he said, and then he was out of the room and pushing into the next.

He was thirteen, and he was standing beside Granger in the school library, the two of them laughing and talking about gods know what. He watched his younger selves eyes glisten with an emotion that Draco had forgotten he had at such a young age. Genuine happiness.

He moved to the next room, and stopped dead in his tracks. Granger had a hurt look in her eyes and his younger self was talking to her, asking her if she was okay. Marcus Flint was yelling something at him, blood running down his nose. Draco saw that his younger selves hand was covered in blood. He looked, what, fourteen?

He moved to the next memory, the same age, and he was now in Potions classroom. He was sitting next to her, no, not only sitting, he was holding her fucking hand. And she let him. Draco gulped. His younger self looked smitten with the girl beside himself.

Pushing into the next room, he stopped dead again. Granger had a dress on, the one from his Yulle Ball and his younger self was standing too closely to her, his hands on her shoulders, trying to make her slow down. She was raging on about how disgusting Weasley was for suggesting that she was fondling with the enemy and then saying that she should have gone with Draco. With his younger self. And the boy was grinning from ear to ear at hearing that, telling her that she, in fact, should have. And then he watched himself close the distance between them, forcing her to stop talking. He watched the younger Hermione stop dead and then return the kiss with more passion then should have been possible at such a young age.

He couldn't watch anymore so he went to the next door. Fifth year, he knew because Draco was yelling at Umbridge, telling her that she was a prejudiced cow and his father would hear about her mistreatment of his girlfriend. Draco suppressed a laugh. His girlfriend, Hermione, was standing behind his younger self, smirking from ear to ear. The sight made his heart want to explode.

The next memory he watched the two dance to a slow song in her home. He assumed it was her home because there were pictures in the living room of her and her parents. He heard small talk and laughter coming from the kitchen, and watched what he assumed to be Hermiones parents come into the room, her dad patting Draco on the shoulder when they stopped dancing and the two adults made their way up the stairs.

It was Christmas, fifth year.

Draco wanted to scream at the sight. His younger self looked so bloody happy, and fuck if it didn't hurt.

Draco pushed through the next door and watched, transfixed, when he saw the two of them in his dorm at Hogwarts. They were on the bed, fully clothed, but that didn't look like it was going to last. He heard his younger self telling the girl in his arms that he wanted to marry her. That she was his, his alone, and he was going to make her happy.

He heard her return the sentiment and then he was walking out, shaking his head.

The next door was sixth year, and the two were training, drenched all in black uniform. Potter and the whole bloody Gryffindor was there in the Room of Requirements and his younger self was talking to Potter, laughing even, while Hermione was sending spell after spell at, Draco rubbed at his eyes, it couldn't be.