Unforeseen Outcomes

Chapter 1- Draco

* DISCLAIMER BEFORE READING *

Hey guys! This story is about the two unique perspectives of both Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger after Voldemort is defeated, and how friendship, love, and willingness to educate them selves can alter how their futures play out.

Although this is is not a Dramione fic (sorry I know that's disappointing to hear, I very much loved them in Isolation & Breathmints/ Battlescars), there is a slow burn romance between Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy, as well as intense romance between Hermione and Ron. I plan for this story to cover many adult topics,  want everyone to feel comfortable with the story and its contents, so I will put warnings before chapters that I feel may be too intense for some readers.

In addition, I want to make it known that I will do my best to incorporate a lot of representation throughout this book, something I believe we can all agree was lacking in the original Harry Potter series, including but not limited to LGBTQ+ and characters that are POC.

Lastly, I am always open to suggestions and I read every comment I receive, so please feel free to voice your opinions and let me know what you'd like to see more of as the story progresses!

I'm so excited to bring you along on this journey, no matter how small of an audience this story gets. With that said, lets begin!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Pardoned."

The words rang in my ears like a gong as I attempted to register the full meaning of what the Minister of Magic was saying.

Pardoned.

Thinking of the word made the hair on my arms stand on end, goosebumps racing up my body, creating a bittersweet taste in my mouth. I can hear sighs of relief next to me as I look to my right to find my mother resting her head in the nook of my father's neck. Narcissa Malfoy is a frail woman, with inky black hair running down the length of her back in a mess of tangles, her fragile body frame shaking with every breath she takes. She's not very well kept, a sure result of the stress she's experienced the last few months of trials following the Battle of Hogwarts. She looks so delicate as my father holds her in his arms, stroking her hair in comfort.

         My father, Lucius Malfoy, once held the statute of a muscular, wealthy man who always walked with his nose in the air, carrying himself with confidence. He was very cunning, and there was hardly a moment his expression wasn't contorted with cruelty and malice, a permanent sneer stitched into his face. That was once upon a time.

The picture of Lucius Malfoy standing before me now is despondent, walking with a hunched back as he attempts to keep his head down, a difficult task for someone of his height. The stubble on his chin makes it obvious he hasn't shaved in at least a week. He has very defined dark circles sitting under his eyes, and his long platinum hair is tied back in a low ponytail. He wears the wrinkled black robe he's been wearing since his own trial a few weeks before. He looks nothing like the man he once was, and he hasn't been able to meet my eyes in months. Four months, to be exact. Today is September 2, 1998, marking exactly four months since the Second Wizarding War, to the day.

         I dismiss the images that flood my mind as he recalls the events of that day, and absentmindedly begin to run my finger over the pattern of the tattoo seared into my forearm, the Dark Mark: the sign of the Death Eater. My family & I were part of the infamous gang of witches and wizards called Death Eaters that served the dark lord Voldemort on the wrong side of the second biggest war in magical history, fighting against the people he grew up with, attended school with.