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May 2, 1998
Dust and cold grey wisps of cloud swirled around the ruins of Hogwarts, the wind blowing the young man’s hair into his face. The pale blond strands had come loose from all the dueling and drama earlier that day. Taking the opportunity to subtly rub his eyes as he fixed his hair, Draco Malfoy erased any trace of sorrow over the fallen, both friends and enemies.
He crossed the courtyard, sidestepping piles of rubble and crumbled statues, past a wall, a pale hand sticking out from under it. By the broken-down stairs, a body curled up, seeming asleep or grieving, perhaps. Ignoring the faint shouts and spells being cast by the winners scattered around the remains of the school, he carefully laid a hand on their shoulder.
The curls gave away who it was, but Hermione didn’t react at all. Draco hadn’t expected her to; the entire Trio had fallen in action. The Weasel lay a little further beyond the Mudblood, and Draco knew that the Boy-Who-Lived was now the Boy-Who-Died, lying with his fallen compatriots.
He refused to go near them.
His lips curling into a sneer, he apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Lucius and Narcissa were with the Dark Lord, no doubt setting up as the new ruler of the Wizarding World’s right-hand family.
The vault was easy enough to get into – he’d been in it more than enough times as he was laden down with items to be a showcase for the Malfoy family’s wealth and prosperity.
This time, he left the vault, seemingly with nothing to show for his two-minute excursion.
With one last look around his old home, he activated what he had found.
~~~
November 20, 1994
The fuss about Potter being selected as a second Hogwarts Champion by the Goblet of Fire was ridiculous. Clearly, Potter hadn’t wanted to be chosen, and the judges all knew that it was difficult for someone to tamper with the relic.
Draco huffed as he passed yet another hallway full of students whispering about the uncommon results. Why they continued to whisper about something strange happening around someone whose very existence should have been impossible was beyond him.
The flutter of wings sounded just before the weight of his eagle owl, Ulixes, landed on his shoulder. A paper wrapped around its leg caught his eye, and he untied the string holding the missive to his owl.
Unfurling the paper, a smirk took over his features as he read.
Excellent .
Things should proceed much more smoothly now.
~~~
June 18, 1995
The days coming up to the Third Task weren’t any less nerve-wracking for Draco than the Trio, with his own machinations to plot. Thankfully, the Trio was too busy preparing for the final test to pay much attention to him, although he did miss his daily verbal spars with Potter and occasionally Granger.
Nothing could go wrong. He was ruined if they were even a minute late.
Checking the time, he cast a series of spells and slipped out of his room in the Slytherin dungeons.
The Forbidden Forest was quite dark, only a tiny speck of light from the giant’s hut visible through the screen of thick trees and cloudy mist. Draco huffed as he rubbed his hands together, a thin stream of breath spiraling up to the moon.
A branch cracked behind him, and he turned.
Several cloaked individuals emerged from the shadows.
“Malfoy?”
His lips curved in a smirk. Oh yes, it was all coming together.
~~~
June 24, 1995
The crowd cheered as Cedric walked out in his Hufflepuff yellow and black, escorted by his father, Amos; the happy blaring of the band provided an upbeat mood to the third task.
Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco sat in the midst of the crowd, a bold red “Krum” painted on Crabbe’s forehead as they cheered for the competitors entering the arena.
Diggory nodded back at Potter as they entered the maze. The third task had begun.
It was rather boring to be watching an empty arena, the only visible things being tall walls of plants. Draco climbed down the bleachers, leaving his cronies behind, muttering about knowing a better spot for a more exciting view.
Once he was safely away from the crowd, who were mindlessly fascinated by the entrance of the maze – for Merlin’s sake, it wasn’t even the exit – he apparated to the spot where his acquaintances were waiting.
The cloaked figures emerged from the shadows at his appearance.
“Are you ready?” he asked one final time. They nodded.
A flash of blue light filled the space as the Cup port-keyed the Hogwarts champions to the Little Hangleton graveyard.
Draco sneered as he watched Potter realize where he ended up. Of course, the bloody git had shared the victory with Diggory.
“Cedric! We need to leave! I’ve seen this place in my dreams!” Potter frantically tried to get his teammate’s attention, but he was captivated by the discovery of the Cup being a Portkey.
“Cedric!”
Pettigrew slithered out from the dark, his wand glowing green as he cast the Killing Curse.
“No!” Potter yelled, seeing Diggory’s pale face lying still against a grave.
Draco had to admit to himself that it was a fitting place to die – you could be buried right there and save a lot of hassle for the living.
Outwardly, he sighed and dusted off his robes, his wand tip glowing green. What was another?
“Avada Kedavra!”
Potter’s face remained frozen in shock and horror as Pettigrew collapsed.
The weak, wheezing chuckles of the incorporeal being in Pettigrew’s arms annoyed Draco.
“Well done, just like your father. I suppose you will have to take Pettigrew’s place as my servant for this part. Get some of Harry Potter’s blood and put it in that cauldron.”
“This is for you, my lord.” Draco bowed low mockingly. “Avada Kedavra.”
A sound like the wind rushed through the air as the green light hit the pale head of the once-Dark Lord.
Grimacing, Draco wiped his hand down his pants as he realized his wand was uncomfortably sweaty. Apparently, facing your worst nightmare and killing the one who killed your lo- your rival was a stressful situation.
The black-cloaked figures behind him fanned out, two darting over to the Hufflepuff’s body while he turned to Potter.
“You’re welcome.”
“W-what did you do?” asked Potter, thoughtlessly taking the hand Draco extended to help him up.
Honestly, did he have no self-preservation at all? How had he survived until the end of the Second Wizarding War at all?
He’d just killed two people!
Draco tsked.
“I just rid you of your archnemesis, and you ask what I did?”
“But- why? Your family-”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Did no one ever tell you not to look too hard at someone who casts a Protego for you?”
Potter sputtered, and Draco shook his head.
“But Cedric-”
“Potter, I need you to trust me.” Draco stared into Potter’s blue eyes. “Do you trust me?”
Potter paused.
“Yes.”
Draco sighed, relieved. “Then just follow my lead and do what I say, and I’ll explain everything later.”
“Okay,” Potter nodded obediently.
Draco fished a vial from the depths of his robe’s pockets and popped the cork on the Polyjuice Potion. Downing it with a grimace, he waited to take the form of a fully revived Voldemort.
“Protego. Fianto Duri.”
With Potter sufficiently shielded, he turned his wand to the dark, heavily clouded sky. “Morsmordre.”
Draco turned his back on Potter and awaited the apparating of the Death Eaters, including his father.
“Ah, my loyal soldiers,” he began, channeling his best Voldemort, figuring that having been raised around and served under him for years would help him impersonate the dark wizard long enough to fool the Death Eaters, who hadn’t seen the Dark Lord in quite a while.
The obnoxious wizards and witches paid their respects, and Draco couldn’t help wondering if Voldemort ever got tired of the insincerity and fear surrounding his servants or if it was something he relished.
On Draco’s part, it was repulsive, and he couldn’t wait for his self-inflicted farce to end.
“I see that some of you have not come to my aid despite my symbol in the sky,” he intoned, stalling for time.
“To prove your loyalty, I wish for you all to give me your wands for this moment. Fear not; if you have been loyal, you will be rewarded beyond your vastest imagination,” he breathed. “For we will take over Hogwarts, and then – the entire Wizarding World will be unable to stop us! Potter,” he spat, “is already under my command now that I am in my form. Wands!”
The Death Eaters exchanged worried-yet-attempted-nonchalant glances, handing their wands over to him.
“Excellent.” The high, breathy voice of the Dark Lord was irritating to copy and made him inwardly cringe, but Draco carried through.
“Stupefy!”
The lot of the Death Eaters were momentarily stunned and knocked unconscious. Draco took advantage of that time to cast a Petrificus Totalus and Mimblewimble and ensure they couldn’t wake up and cause mischief.
“Potter, I’m taking the Death Eaters to Hogwarts. I cast an Anti-Disapparition jinx here, so you can’t apparate. Take this bottle; it’s a port-key to Hogwarts.” Draco nodded at a bottle standing on a grave a row away, undoing the protective spells around Potter.
With a nod at the cloaked figures that Potter had mostly ignored, he grabbed the bottle when Potter did, flashing back to Hogwarts.
Draco looked around, noting that they’d ended up outside McGonagall’s office.
“Potter, get Dumbledore and McGonagall and the Ministry of Magic members that are here.”
With a nod, Potter ran off.
The sheer chaos that surrounded the group approaching him let him know that that was definitely the people in charge. They were always making a big fuss about everything. Draco shook his head.
The group paused when they turned the corner and saw Draco, still appearing as Voldemort, wondering if Harry had been Imperio’d, and if this was a trap.
“It’s Draco,” Potter reiterated and approached him.
Stupid, fearless Gryffindors.
“Look, he brought the Death Eaters for you.”
Draco dropped his wand with the pile of Death Eaters’, holding his hands up defensively. “It’s me, Draco Lucius Malfoy. I’m using a Polyjuice Potion.”
A quick Revelio from McGonagall confirmed his identity.
“I believe that we can pause our questions for Mr. Malfoy while we take care of the more pressing matter at hand?” she raised an eyebrow, daring the Ministers to argue.
Draco knew he wasn’t that brave and wasn’t surprised when no one spoke up.
“Then I believe that Mr. Potter here can wait with Mr. Malfoy in my office while we deal with this…gift he has left us.”
With a short smile, McGonagall opened the door to her office for him and Potter to enter while the rest of the crowd took charge of the Death Eaters.
“You’re even turning your dad over?” Potter’s large eyes stared at him from the chair opposite him in front of McGonagall’s desk.
Draco shrugged. “He’s a Death Eater. Good riddance. He’d never be proud of me, no matter what.” Shifting uncomfortably at what he’d said and the remembrance of the things he’d done before he used his Time Turner, he turned away from Potter’s curious gaze.
“Thank you for everything you did, Draco.”
Shrugging, he closed his eyes.
His rest was promptly interrupted by the door opening and Cedric Diggory running inside. “Did it work?”
Potter gasped. “Cedric! You’re alive!” He hugged the Hufflepuff, looking him over for any damage.
“Potter, Diggory is fine. You’re acting like a house elf. Sit back down.”
Ignoring the little twinge of jealousy poking his blood-pumping organ, Draco wandlessly and wordlessly summoned a chair over to the other two.
Potter made a noise that Draco also ignored, pleased that Potter had sat in the chair by Draco’s side and not the one he’d initially been seated in.
Diggory took a seat and opened his mouth, but Draco tutted.
“I’d prefer to explain this as few times as possible. Can you wait until the Ministers come back before you interrogate me?”
Diggory nodded and grinned at Potter. “I’m alright, mate. Draco will explain later, but I’m perfectly fine. You don’t need to worry.”
Potter sighed in relief and settled deeper into his chair that Draco may have subtly cast a Spongify on.
The Ministers and Professors arrived surprisingly quickly from where they had been dealing with the Death Eaters, and McGonagall quickly enlarged and soundproofed her office before the interrogation officially started.
Extra chairs were summoned, a recording charm cast and they began.
“I’m Draco Lucius Malfoy. I used a Time Turner to come back here last autumn, and I’ve been disguising myself as my younger self since then. I came from three years in the future, when the Second Wizarding War was over. Voldemort won, and most of you were dead.
“I used a Time Turner from the Malfoy vault to come here and prevent that from happening again. I didn’t want to go too far back and mess up the timeline. I had one chance since the Ministry’s stash of Time-Turners was destroyed, and if I went back too far, I could cause a worse outcome.
Fourth year was the furthest I dared.
“Using my knowledge of future events, I created a plan to stop the Second Wizarding War from ever starting – which it would have, tonight, had I not stepped in.
“I recalled scraps of information I had gathered on fellow Hogwarts students and especially information I found out when I dug through Ministry official’s families to contact some people I thought would be willing to help.
“Amos Diggory, your aunt married an American and moved to the United States with her husband, Edward Masen. They had a son, Edward, Jr. Interestingly, their family line dropped off there, yet I was still able to trace their descendant across America.”
Draco paused, relishing in the impressed and happily surprised faces surrounding him (particularly Potter’s).
“I found Edward Masen, Jr., now Edward Cullen, and his adoptive family – or should I say coven. The Cullen coven of vampires was eager to help one of their own’s old family, and so they came to Hogwarts at my behest.
“I was surprised to discover that Edward Cullen looks identical to his first cousin once removed, Cedric Diggory, but it made my plan much more simple. I was forced to corner Diggory and explain some things to him, but he agreed to my plan.” Draco nodded shortly at Diggory, who nodded back with a slight smug smile.
“Edward replaced Cedric in the Third Task. I was able to teach him and his family some basic spells they would need for tonight. In the original timeline, Cedric was killed by Peter Pettigrew, who then revived Voldemort to his corporeal body and dueled Potter. Neither won, as their wands were brothers and thus began the SWW. It continued until May 1998, when the side against the Dark Lord was defeated, and I returned to November 1994.”
Draco paused, unsure of how what he was about to say would be received. “Tonight, I waited with the Cullens at the graveyard for Cullen-as-Diggory and Potter to port-key via the Cup. Pettigrew cast the Killing Curse at Cullen, which, as a Living Dead, caused him to be knocked unconscious.
“I cast the Killing Curse at Pettigrew, who had the Dark Lord, then at Voldemort. I used a Polyjuice Potion I brewed myself in the future to take Voldemort’s appearance and then summoned the Death Eaters. I pretended I was testing their loyalty and had them give me their wands. Once they were disarmed, I stunned and petrified them to prevent any wandless spells, then used a port-key I created and placed there ahead of time to bring us to Hogwarts, where I sent Potter to fetch you.”
A knock sounded on the door, and Draco let in the Cullens with a now-awake Edward by their side.
Amos Diggory stared between his son and his cousin, stunned by their identical appearance.
The rest of the Ministry gathered there ignored the interruption, working through the information Draco had just dumped on them.
~~~
June 25, 1995
Potter lingered awkwardly around the corner from the group of Slytherin students, all overlooking the courtyard.
Draco sighed at the sight of Potter’s messy brown hair ducking in and out of the alcove.
He sent Crabbe and Goyle away, hoping that if he was alone, Potter would pluck up that famous Gryffindor courage and approach him.
It seemed to work, as a couple of minutes later, Potter was at his elbow as he bit into an apple.
“Draco?”
“Potter.”
“Can you tell me more about the future you came from?”
“Really, Potter?” Draco scoffed, idly watching Granger be kidnapped by two identical redheads to help with some mischief below them. “You haven’t been traumatized enough?”
Potter scratched the back of his neck. “I just think it would be nice to know what happened in case any events repeat themselves. You’ll be going back to the future soon, right? How did you even stay as long as you did?”
“Wizarding secret, Potter, and I’m staying here.”
“But- two Dracos in the same timeline will create a par-”
“I know what I’m doing,” he interrupted. “Relax; the timeline won’t collapse, and you won’t be called upon to fix it. Voldemort is dead now; we’ve made sure. Go back to just studying and playing Quidditch.”
Potter snorted. “Malfoy, I’ve never ‘just’ studied and played Quidditch. Ever since I learned about this world, I’ve been fighting for my life or tackling plots from Slytherins with daddy issues while I wait for the guy who wants me dead to attack so I can defeat him and his attempt to take over the wizarding world.”
Draco fell silent, and Potter’s perspective of the past four years.
“I’m sorry for everything, Potter.”
Potter shifted his weight from foot to foot before extending his hand. “Thanks. You said Voldemort’s gone…Think we can start again?”
Draco’s mouth twitched in a genuine smile as he shook Potter’s hand. “Hello, I’m Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Fourth-Year.”
“Harry Potter, Gryffindor Fourth-year. Nice to meet you, Draco.”
“Likewise, Harry.”