This story was written for GE's FuhQFest. Huge thanks to my alpha Quilter for her help and support. Thank you to my beta Dany. You guys rock!

Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work.

My prompt was: Hermione's time turner gets broken and she goes back in time. Does she stay and try to change the future?

3. Ever After

Memories and Revelations

She didn't know how many hours had passed, when two strong hands lifted her from the bench and she found herself crushed against a hard, muscled chest. "Why did you run off, you silly witch?" a soft baritone drawled in her ear, as the wizard manoeuvred her onto his lap.

"Abraxas," sobbed the witch.

"Shh, I am here now. Enough of these tears." He cradled her even closer to him and kissed her curls gently.

The witch sniffled one last time and raised her face, concentrating her red, puffy eyes on him. "Why are you here? Hadn't you heard me? I am a Mud-"

Abruptly, a finger was pressed to her mouth. "Stop … using … this … word," enunciated the wizard sternly, stressing each word.

Hermione, still defiant, asked, "Why?"

"Because I cannot tolerate this derogatory term. It is not who you are."

"And who am I, Abraxas? Who am I to you?" she asked, searching his eyes for clues.

A warm, genuine smile lit up the wizard's face, instantly melting the ice in her heart. He spoke softly, as his fingers lovingly fluttered over her face, caressing it with the lightest of touches. "You are the wittiest and the most beautiful Muggle-Born witch I've ever met." Abraxas leaned back a little, in order to afford himself a better view of her face, and suddenly asked, watching her intently, "Do you love me?"

Hermione's eyebrows flew up in surprise. A true answer was right there, in her heart, and yet she hesitated. "Abraxas, we've known each other only a week."

The wizard grimaced impatiently and snapped, "That is not what I asked. Do you love me, Hermione?"

Hermione thought for a moment, drew a sigh, and then breathed out, "Yes."

His soft but demanding lips caught hers in a desperate kiss as the last letter of "yes" left her mouth. "Marry me," he whispered against her lips, the moment they parted. "Hermione Jean Granger, I love you. Will you marry me?" Hermione nodded, and Abraxas uttered a low, guttural growl of triumph, the sound of which made Hermione's toes curl. "Mine, my butterfly, forever." Their mouths fused again in a delightfully long and deep kiss.

Still pressing her to him and kissing her curls, he said, "There is only one thing left." With that, he gently nudged her from his lap. When they were both on their feet, he fished a lacquered box from one of his pockets and placed it on the table. From another pocket, he extracted a familiar-looking Time-Turner and put it into the box. Making elaborate movements with his wand, he began to mutter an incantation. The moment he finished his muttering, the box slammed shut with a metallic click. He turned to Hermione, took her hand, and said, "We shall go now, my Lady. Your future in the past awaits."

The moment they stepped out of the gazebo, the wooden structure gradually became more and more translucent, until, to Hermione's astonishment, it disappeared altogether.

"What did you do?" she exclaimed.

"I just closed the loop, my darling. There is no going back now." And hand in hand they began their walk to the Manor.

"What about your parents?"

The wizard chuckled. "They will survive. Surprisingly, I am not the only Muggle-Born-loving Malfoy in the family. Apparently, my great-great-aunt was married to one as well. And the interesting part was that her father agreed to that marriage. Do you remember the lady in the portrait in your room? That's her, Lucinda Williams née Malfoy, Brutus' daughter. I just had a long talk with her, and she explained a few things to me. "

"Hmm, how very eye-opening."

"Alas," continued Abraxas, "Lucinda's story didn't have a happy ending. She died in childbirth. Actually, both Lucinda and her baby died. She was stubborn and foolish, and refused to stay in the Manor during her pregnancy. She went into labour prematurely and Tibald II, our family healer, didn't make it on time. Brutus never forgave Lucinda's husband for not being able to save his beloved daughter. I think that is where all the hostility to Muggle-Borns started."

Hermione sighed and sniffled. "How sad."

For a while they walked in silence, and Hermione thought about the peculiar turn her life had taken. It was peculiar, yes, but for the better, she was sure. Abraxas' strong arm found its way to her rump and gently squeezed it, interrupting her musings. The wizard pressed her to him and whispered in her ear, "Do you think we can reproduce those knickers of yours? I think they can bring millions to the Malfoy family vaults. We can make a revolution in the Wizarding lingerie-making. Hmm?"

Hermione giggled, kissed him in the corner of his mouth, and purred, "Well, I don't know about that. What I do know, however, is that, right now, I am not wearing any knickers at all."

The wizard chuckled, "Minx," swept the witch up into his arms, and hurriedly trotted to the Manor.

Malfoy and His Butterfly

Abraxas didn't want to open his eyes. Today was his birthday and he wasn't happy about it. He was fifty. Fifty! He couldn't believe it. And thus, he lay in bed and sulked. Well, he wasn't actually sulking, because it didn't become him – Lord Malfoy was not supposed to sulk. He was just, let us say, going over the main events of his life. He simply wanted to remember.

He married Hermione in August of nineteen twenty-six in a private ceremony that took place in their cherry orchard. Sure enough, just as he had predicted, his parents came round and even gave the young couple their blessing. He was their only son, after all.

On the first of January, nineteen twenty-seven, Hermione managed to give him quite a fright by disappearing for the whole morning without any notice. Abraxas had already begun to panic, when she finally returned with a tiny infant in her arms. She didn't give him any explanations at all. She just said that the child was an orphan, his name was Tom, and he was going to be a wonderful brother for their little girl. And that's how Abraxas found out that they were expecting a child.

Their little girl was born six months later on the tenth of June. They named her Gwendolyn. She was a true miracle, the first girl in the Malfoy family in three hundred years. Of course, just as Hermione had said, Tom and Gwen were extremely close, especially at Hogwarts. As an older brother, Tom guarded Gwen's every step. One of his friends, Raphael Lestrange, however, managed to find a way into her heart. She married him right after Hogwarts, and Abraxas cried as he walked her down the aisle.

Tom himself fell in love a little bit later, when he was twenty-five. He found himself a green-eyed, red-headed Muggle-Born and married her after only two weeks of courting.

As of today, the twenty-second of January, nineteen fifty-four, Abraxas had six grandchildren. Tom had been elected as Minister of Magic a year ago, which made Abraxas deliriously proud of his brilliant boy. And Gwen had become a well-known Potions Mistress with more than twenty patented potions to date. Yes, she loved potions just like her daddy.

Hermione, his little butterfly, had been working in the Ministry as an Unspeakable for more than twenty years. He loved her today just as intensely and passionately as he had twenty-eight years ago. He couldn't breathe properly without her by his side. She was his life, his everything.

"Good morning." The teasing whisper tore Abraxas from his thoughts and memories. He felt the bed dip slightly as a silk cover was drawn away, exposing his bare skin to a morning draught. The next second, a gentle kiss was placed upon his shoulder and a deliciously soft and warm body covered his. He opened his eyes and was met with the most erotic sight. His gloriously nude wife, with her untamed mane curling wildly around her face, straddled his hips and looked at him with a wicked smile. Rubbing her heavy breasts against his rapidly warming skin and peppering his chest with light kisses, she purred into his ear, "Happy Birthday, my Lord."

Her dexterous fingers found him already half-erect, and she quickly brought him to a state of eager need. With a low rumble, he rolled them over in one fluid and powerful movement, effectively trapping Hermione beneath him. Placing himself between her luscious thighs, he drawled a bit breathlessly, "Good morning to you as well, my Lady. Shall I have my birthday present now?"

Hermione cupped his face and groaned impatiently, "Yes! Now! Please!"

Abraxas growled and plunged home.

…

Nine months later, Lucius Malfoy was born.

The end

It was supposed to be a one shot with a lot of smut and a bit of substance. Haha! Please review, my darlings.