Chapter Text
Nimble fingers nervously shuffle a multitude of papers into a bag, said bag was then swung onto the shoulder of one Draco Malfoy. The fair haired boy took a few glances around his flat- his home for the past 3 years. Modest, yet perfectly suited to him.
“Farewell.” Draco kept his goodbye simple, it was only an inanimate place afterall. Silver-grey eyes assessed the small coffee table before him, assuring he collected all his needed papers. Papers including incident reports, Hogwarts school photos, newspaper clippings, and a plethora of private looking letters and photos that were very hard for Draco to get his hands on.
Soon enough, Draco was stepping into his floo, heading straight for the Ministry, where he knew an altered vanishing cabinet was awaiting him.
Dusting himself off, Draco takes long strides towards the Unspeakable department, and namely, his office. As he passes through the front desk, and down a long hallway, he thinks of his former classmates. He heard Weasley and Granger just had their first child, a baby girl. Though he didn’t know the child’s name, he had anonymously sent a gift to her baby shower. Luna had married and ran off with a Scamander (He tried not to think of her often, still scarred from what he saw as he snuck food and potions down to her when she was a prisoner in his home), and Longbottom had become a professor at Hogwarts, Care of Magical Creatures even- though it made Draco roll his eyes, because of course. His own friends, Pansy and Blaise had fled Wizarding britain. Their families narrowly avoided an Azkaban sentencing, and with the heated public, naturally both families picked up and moved to France. Goyle never quite recovered from the death of Crabbe- they had been attached at the hip since they were babies after all. Draco honestly wasn’t sure of Goyle’s whereabouts these days. The golden boy himself, Potter, had popped out two kids with the small Weasel girl. Much to Draco’s dismay, information about Potter was force-fed down Draco’s throat by The Prophet, they had a whole bloody section dedicated to the saviour, and it was the bane of Draco’s existence.
“Speak of the devil.” Draco whispered to himself as his eyes took in the form of Harry Potter, wizarding celebrity and renowned Auror. Auror’s and Unspeakables barely crossed paths, due to the size of the Ministry building, and the nature of their work. Rarely was a case worked by both departments, and their offices were quite the distance from each other, so it was a bit of a surprise to see Potter in his neck of the woods. Draco breezed right past the man, Potter seemingly quite occupied with the papers he was shuffling about in his hands. Although apparently not occupied enough, because as soon as Draco had his back to the scarred boy, he heard him speak.
“Draco, Malfoy- Hello.”
Draco’s steps slowed, until he had fully stopped, the cogs in his brain whirring akin to an old computer. He slowly twisted around, making eye contact with the green eyed, shaggy haired man. “Potter. Odd to see you on this side of the building.” Draco greeted back, letting his curiosity slip as he vaguely referenced Potter’s unusual location. Potter nodded, bringing a hand up to fix his glasses to better sit on the bridge of his nose.
“I was here speaking to a friend- colleague.” Potter returned, and for a long moment neither man said anything, choosing to simply study each other. It was odd- neither man had spoken a single word to each other- not since Potter had spoken at Draco’s hearing. Draco was confused at Potter’s surprise greeting, and more than a little bit suspicious of it. Draco knew he was acting paranoid lately- mostly due to his recent breakthrough with his time travel theories. But still, this was a weird situation.
“I’ve got to get going now.” Draco said plainly, lifting his wrist and giving a small wave, before he spun around and stalked off. He felt rather like Severus in the moment, if only he had a dramatic billowing coat. He felt himself chuckle slightly at the imagery of his Godfather, quickly putting his interaction with Potter on the backburner of his brain. What Draco missed though as he walked off, was Potter groaning and wiping his hand down his face, exasperated. “You’re a horrible flirt, truly.” Potter muttered to himself, before also turning and skulking off. Further, Draco also missed a hot Potter news exclusive- Him and Ginny were splitting up, and it was rumoured that Harry was into blokes. Draco always had some wicked bad timing.
When Draco arrived at his office, he packed away a few journals that had been stowed away, and faced the vanishing cabinet that took up a good portion of the corner of his office. Finally, with all his research tucked dutifully into his bag, along with a few keepsakes, Draco swung open the cabinet door, not hesitating as he piled in. And as the door clicked shut behind him, Draco felt a shiver wrack his spine, causing his shoulders to give an involuntary jump.
“This is perhaps the most stupid- and bloody Gryffindor thing I have ever done.” Draco mutters to himself as he takes a moment to breathe, and calm his racing heart. Despite his lack of hesitation, or outward reaction, his actions were taking their toll on his mental state. He knew he wasn’t prepared to see his family, let alone Potter. Even though it had been seven years since his trial, since his family's unceremonious split, and seven years since he last spoke to Potter (If you didn’t count his weird interaction with the man earlier), it all still felt so fresh.
It felt like only yesterday the Dark Lord’s cold arms rested on his shoulders as he coaxed him from the crowd of Hogwarts students.
It felt like a mere week since he’d watched his father be given life in Azkaban.
A month since his mother had been stripped of her right to use magic, and was confined to the manor.
He’s shaken out of his thoughts, quite literally, as the cabinet shakes around him, and makes unsettling creaking noises, like the wood itself is splitting apart- even as the cabinet remains fully intact. Draco can’t help but feel like he’s also splitting apart, much like the cabinet. Although, again like the cabinet, he knows he is physically fine. His head aches something fierce, and he can feel his lunch resurfacing, though an aggressive swallow and hand clamped onto his mouth remedies that. As the Malfoy boy's body settles finally, and the cabinet goes complacently still, there’s one final cracking sound, and then Draco lets himself relax against the cabinet wall.
Letting a breath puff out into the dark, claustrophobic space of the cabinet, Draco lifts a single hand to delicately rest on the shut door in front of him. Steeling his nerves, Draco exerts the smallest amount of pressure on the door. Having a mind of its own though, the door swings open quickly, exposing Draco to the rest of the room. He peers out, and mutters to himself absentmindedly as he eyes the room of requirement, noting that it’s significantly less burnt, and Draco decides he much prefers it like this.
“Promising..” Draco trails off as he looks down at his hands, and then his apparel. The slytherin robes he was definitely not wearing before clung to his body, his fifteen year old body. He knew this was the likely outcome, but he still let out a sigh of relief. He needed to rewrite the past- and he couldn’t do that with the body of a twenty-six year old. He felt his robe pockets, and easily found his wand pouch, sliding out said wand.
It was his old wand. Of course, the good doer saint Potter had returned his wand to him after the trial, but the wand was loyal to Potter now, and virtually useless to Draco. He had gotten a new one quickly enough, and his old wand became nothing but a decoration essentially. This wand though- the same wand, it responded to Draco swiftly and enthusiastically. He had forgotten what it felt like to wield his wand, his first official wand. Draco knew what this meant for his bag though, and he was proven correct as he searched the cabinet around him. He knew it was unlikely he’d be able to bring items from the future back to the past, but he tried anyhow. He let a groan of frustration escape his throat as he clambered out of the cabinet.
“First order of business- I need to acquire my wand from the Manor. Then figure out where the bloody hell Potter is.” Draco murmured to himself, as he headed for the exit. He knew there were anti-apparition wards in and around the castle, so he’d have to navigate out of the wards first. Which, in all honesty, was the easy part. The harder part was getting his second wand from the Manor and getting out unnoticed, and then finding Potter. From the original timeline, he knew Potter had encountered a Dementor and it had attacked him and his Muggle cousin. And although Draco knew Potter’s trial went favourably, and Potter returned to Hogwarts with no repercussions, Draco also knew this could be his chance. During his meticulous research over the past few years, he was able to piece together that there was a group of people called The Order Of The Phoenix. They worked together to fight off Voldemort, and carried out many missions. Their group was active from when Voldemort first rose to power, all the way to his defeat. Dumbledore himself was the head of the Order. Draco knew, if he wanted to ensure his Mothers safety, and his future, he’d have to openly deflect to the light side at some point. He wanted to keep things underwraps for a while, and while he knew he had a year until things got bad enough, he wanted to plant the seeds as early as possible. He also happens to know Potter was taken to safety, to the Order, after the demeter incident.
Dracos footsteps made virtually zero noise as he crept through the halls. Though Hogwarts was mostly empty, he knew the Headmaster lurked around occasionally over the summer, and the ghosts and house elves never left. He held his breath and ducked into an alcove as a ghost passed by, luckily not catching wind of his presence. Draco continued on, until he finally was outside in the fresh air. He quickened his steps, wary of being so out in the open. He physically felt where the apparition wards ended as he passed through them, now at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He calmed his nerves, and with a flick of his arms, and a loud crack, he appeared in a wisp of smoke in his bedroom in the Manor. He quickly went about snatching up his wand. All pureblood families gifted their child an untraceable wand for their birthdays, age varying family to family. It was so the child could freely practise magic underage, and he was sure it was expensive to acquire one. Draco had his given to him at 8, and he knew his mother acquired hers at 6. This wand would be invaluable in the coming years, Draco knew. Almost no-one knew about it, save for other purebloods, and it was untraceable, so he could carry out the various things he needed to do without scrutiny from the Ministry.
Grabbing the familiar darkly colored wand from where it was hidden away in a drawer, Draco spun around and made sure to get a good hold on his wand. Draco’s eyelids fluttered slightly as the bone-deep exhaustion set in. Time travel took a lot out of him and his magic, and he knew he’d need a good 12 hours of sleep soon, and a decent meal. He rolled his shoulders, set his jaw, and with a loud crack he was gone.
“This is a bloody ugly street.” Draco muttered as he eyed the unpleasant looking houses on Privet Drive. He knew the dementors chased Potter and his ugly cousin from a park, so he turned and set forward. “Excuse me? Do you know where the nearest park is?” Draco questioned the first muggle he saw, which was an old, fickle looking woman. She gave him an odd smile, nodded, and started babbling about the clouds. Between the nonsense, Draco understood her vague directions, so he nodded and took off without so much as a thank you.
“Muggles are mental.” He may not hold the same prejudice against muggles as he had before, but muggle’s still confused him greatly. Draco’s breath came out in slight puffs as he rounded on a park- the correct one it seemed, as his eyes locked onto the back of Harry-sodding-potter. A very much 15 year old Harry Potter. Air escaped his lungs, and he made a keening sound in the back of his throat, though he’d never admit to such. Potter and his frog-eyed cousin were currently sprinting through a grass path, away from the playground, and when his eyes slid over to the park, he knew why. Dark, angry clouds had moved in over the park, and he could see the wispy, thunderous forms of a couple dementors leave the clouds.
Draco gasped out a string of profanities, before taking off after the two boys, who had garnered quite the distance by now. Draco always had the build of a seeker, sleek but toned. This meant he was an excellent runner, and he proved that as he picked up speed he didn’t even know he had. He was gaining on the two boys, although neither took notice of him. As they skirted into an underground walkway of sorts, Draco paused. Slowing to a stop just outside the tunnel, he crouched down, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. He was interrupted by a terrified sounding, “Run Dudley!”, which made Draco jolt into action. He nearly slid into the tunnel, somehow keeping his feet steady under him. His wand was already out, perched in his hand, and threateningly pointed forward. Potter’s head whipped in his direction, presumingly having heard Draco’s frantic footsteps. Draco spies the Dudley boy towards the end of the tunnel, soul already being sucked into the dementor's mouth. “Malfoy?!” Potter grunts out, eyebrows shooting up, then furrowing.
“Expecto Patronum!” Draco’s raised voice bounced through the tunnel, as a bright blue light shot out from his wand. The dementor holding Potter up dropped him frantically, as a large pale blue Dragon patronus chased it off. As the patronus passed by Dudley, the dementor holding him also flew off. Draco’s wand lowered slowly, as he stared straight ahead to the end of the tunnel. Potter was panting a few feet in front of him, whilst Dudley made various groaning noises from the end of the tunnel. “Hello Potter.” For the first time ever, Draco greeted Potter genuinely, rather than it being some form of taunt. Potter spluttered for a moment, before quickly climbing to his feet. He whipped his wand out faster than Draco could blink, and in the next second Draco was being held against the wall with a wand to his throat.
“Did you do this Malfoy?” Potter spat at him, accusation clear in his green eyes. “How could I have possibly done this, Potter? You can’t control dementors.” Draco retorted, his tone controlled and even, resisting the urge to taunt him. Potter glared at him for a moment longer, then released him and sighed.
“I know, I know that.” Potter said, sounding tired and a touch mental. He raked a hand through his hair, regarded him for another moment, and then turned to the right and marched towards Dudley. He picked him up, letting the boy lean most of his weight on Potter. Draco knew Potter would have questions, but he also knew he needed to play this perfectly. So, he turned on his heal, and started walking away.
“Draco.” Potter’s voice echoed through the tunnel, and it made Draco freeze immediately. Although he knew Potter would stop him, he wasn’t expecting to be affected in such an odd way. Somehow, it sent a pleasurable tingle down Draco’s spine, although later Draco will blame it on his fifteen year old hormones. Definitely not the timbre of Potter’s voice, or his commanding presence. What snaps Draco out of his frozen state, is the warmth coming from behind him. He turns his head slightly, getting an eyeful of Potter as he easily held his cousin up, and stared Draco down. “You’re coming home with me.” Potter said carefully, eyeing Draco suspiciously. Draco did nothing but nod, and let out a dramatic sigh, but ultimately trotted after Potter.
Being inside a muggle house was an odd thing, Draco found. He knew it wasn’t the time to be exploring, but he couldn’t help his curious eyeballing of everything around him, and Potter didn’t seem to mind. “Stay here, Mafloy.” Potter grunted, setting him with a glare, before continuing on his way of carrying the half-dead looking Dudley into the other room. Draco sighed yet again, but settled himself with prodding at a few items on a nearby table. Though he couldn’t help but hear the interaction happening in the room over. Lots of frantic chattering, heavy footsteps, and finally a clear, loud voice.
“Happy, are we, now?
You've finally done it. You've finally driven him loopy.”
A feminine voice interjected, sounded offended at the older man's phrasing. Though he brushed her off.
“I've reached my limit, do you hear?
This is the last I'm gonna take of you and your nonsense.” The threat was clear, and the tone he used made Draco huff.
The door swung open dramatically as Draco stepped through, into a clear view of the living room's occupants. “Draco!” Potter scolded, standing at attention. “Whose this? He better not be one of your freak friends, boy!” The older, large man snapped. He had been stepping towards Potter before Draco stepped in the room. “Shut up, you filthy muggle. I could hex you into oblivion if I so pleased, and so could Harry. So I suggest you back away now.” Draco asserted himself easily between Potter and the man- Vernon, he had heard. Said man gasped and stepped back, flailing oddly. “Freaks!” His wife- Petunia, Draco believed, wailed. Potter grabbed Draco’s arm, and turned, yanking him out of the room and towards the stairs. “Now you’ve done it, Malfoy.” Potter murmured, and Draco rolled his eyes. Of course Potter couldn’t even give him a thank you. Though Draco knew Potter could fend for himself, he really did not like these muggles, and found himself wanting to stir trouble up.
Draco was shoved into a room with Potter following closely behind, before he went and peered out the window. Draco watched him and waited silently, squinting as the light streamed in. “Okay, they’ve left.” Potter stated simply, before spinning around and pinning Draco with a hard gaze. “Why are you in a muggle neighbourhood, Malfoy? And how did you know the dementors would be there?’ Potter started in immediately, and Draco winced, before clasping his hands together. “Oh, you know.” Draco said, waving his hands around as if to say ‘Who knows’. Potter tightened his grip on his wand, Draco having not realised he pulled it out in the first place. Draco held his hands up complacently, and groaned. “I..” Draco started, and then trailed off. He truly had to sell this, if he wanted the golden boys' trust. In his prior research, he found out Potter had been having visions of what the Dark Lord was doing, because he himself was a Horcrux. (That had been a jarring finding.)
“Go on.” Potter urged, jaw clenching impatiently. “I’ve been having.. Visions.” Draco concluded, making sure to hold eye contact with Potter. “..Visions?” Potter said after a moment, furrowing his brows. Draco could practically hear the boy's single brain cell bouncing around in his skull. He found himself nearly grinning at that, but kept his face schooled. Draco gave a short, curt nod. Potter finally slipped his wand away, before taking a cautious seat on his bed. He gestured with his hands for Draco to continue, so he did. “Since I was little, I would get these.. Visions. Of different things, each time. But the odd thing is, my visions are always of things that haven’t happened yet.. And then they do happen.” Draco explained, and shuffled from foot to foot. He felt uncomfortable telling such a bold lie, knowing damn well he was not a seer. But, he needed an in, and this was it. Besides, he also needed to be able to help without revealing he was actually a bloody time traveller, and this was the best idea he could come up with. Potter was squinting at him, and looked half ready to hex him and send him away. But before Potter could open his mouth to do just that, Draco spoke first.
“I can prove it.”
“Go on then, prove it- Malfoy?!”
Thump.