Chapter Text
At first, after the war, time had felt like it was rushing past Harry. He had so many responsibilities, so many places to be, speeches to hold, and people to give hope to, he didn't get the chance to just unwind and calm down until at least 2 months after Voldemort had died. Since then, everything had gone downhill. He'd started skipping meals and cancelling appointments. It had gotten to the point that Hermione and Ron had unanimously decided to move into Grimmauld Place with him,
''To keep you company'' they'd said.
But he knew they were worrying about him, he knew they'd rather have stayed at the little flat they'd rented as their first place together. But he didn't have the energy to tell them to leave him be. It wasn't like he wanted or needed them there, he just didn't have it in him to turn them away. And so his home had become a little more lively again, he had started eating somehow regularly and he even came out of his room to talk to his friends in the evenings. But all of that didn't mean that he had gotten better, he'd just gotten better at pretending.
His best friends both had their own unique ways of trying to make Harry feel better. Whereas Ron would constantly crack jokes and show him the newest Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, Hermione took it upon herself to get Harry to open up about his feelings -ugh. Not that he didn't appreciate them, but honestly, he didn't feel like laughing or jokes and he certainly didn't feel like talking about his feelings. Because that would mean talking about the war, and by proxy about the people they'd lost. And if he allowed himself to start thinking about them, he was sure he would fall into a hole that he wouldn't get out of anytime soon. So he did his best to try and pretend to be fine and threw himself into working on the upcoming Death Eater trials with Hermione. She had been constantly trying to get Harry and Ron to review the statements she'd written for each of the cases and Harry, in an effort to escape talking about his feelings, had started to distract Hermione by comparing notes on what they would say in front of the Wizengamot.
When the time for the Malfoys' trial came, Harry started reluctantly remembering Draco Malfoy's and his own school rivalry. With the trial's date set for the first of September, the day they usually took the Hogwarts Express up to Scotland for the start of a new schoolyear, it got Harry wondering how different things between them could have worked out, had their meeting seven years ago gone any differently. He thought about Malfoy, how he had lied for him at the Manor, and basically saved Harry's life. He thought about saving Malfoy from Fiendfyre and how the blond had clung to him on the broom like he trusted Harry, like he never wanted to let go again. He thought about how Malfoy'd lowered his wand when he was supposed to kill Dumbledore, and he thought about how the same wand had, in the end, helped him defeat Voldemort. His and Draco Malfoy's lives had been entangled from the first moment they'd met and now Harry would be the one thing standing between Draco Malfoy's freedom and Azkaban.
He was weirdly nervous before the trial, but he managed not to slip up and gave his account of how without both Narcissa and Draco Malfoy he probably wouldn't have survived the war and couldn't have defeated Voldemort. For Lucius Malfoy there was nothing he could or wanted to do, so in the end Lucius was sent back to Azkaban and Narcissa and Draco were spoken free of their charges, sentenced only to a probationary period of six months of house arrest at the Manor. During the trial, Harry hadn't had a chance to really look at the Malfoy's, as they only came into the room at the end for the sentencing. But now they were free again and Harry could finally do what he had planned to since the beginning of the preparations for Draco Malfoys trial.
So now Harry is looking for his ex-rival out in the Ministry hallways in front of the trial chamber, to give back the wand that changed the outcome of the war. He's not exactly sure how he's supposed to approach Malfoy, their complicated history still fresh on his mind, but he's decided to do it personally and to thank Malfoy for how he lied for him at the Manor. When he turns the corner he can see Narcissa and Draco Malfoy huddled together, deep in conversation. He slowly approaches them, not wanting to interrupt. As he gets closer he can finally see how frail Malfoy looks, his usual haughtiness nowhere to be seen. He kind of looks- beautiful? Harry shakes his head to get rid of that weird thought. Malfoy and beautiful? He just looks completely unguarded and kind of defeated, and now that Harry is even closer he can make out parts of their conversation.
''You're safe now Draco, you can come home. I know your father should be with us, bu...''
''I should be with father,'' Malfoy interrupts his mother quietly, ''I deserve Azkaban. You say I'm safe now, but how can I feel safe living in a house where you invited a murderous lunatic, lived with him and your mad sister and all of fathers other Death Eater friends. How am I ever supposed to feel like I belong there again, after all that's happened there?''
Is Malfoy... crying?
He sniffs and continues in a whisper ''I'd rather belong in Azkaban, at least there I would be atoning for my sins.''
His mother looks as shocked at the words that come out of her son's mouth as Harry is to hear them. Surely Malfoy can't be for real?! ''Draco, don't talk like that my darling son, I need you here with me, I love you...''
That makes Malfoy huff a sad and slightly hysterical laugh ''You love me? If the last years were how you showed your love then I don't want it.''
Narcissa looks heartbroken as she reaches out one hand to touch her son's arm, but pulls it back as if she fears his rejection of the gesture ''Please Draco, I...''
''You what?'' Malfoy asks sharply, ''You don't even know me, mother. You don't even know that I'm g-''
Harry has heard enough. 'That eavesdropping habit of yours really isn't healthy!' he silently admonishes himself, in what sounds suspiciously like Hermione's voice. He pulls in a sharp breath to steady himself and approaches the pair, pretending to just arrive and not having been witness to that disturbing conversation. Malfoy turns around as Harry's steps come closer. He looks so very thin and young, his face devastated and lost, but as soon as he recognizes Harry, a familiar cold mask slips on.
''Malfoy!'' Harry says
***
Of course, Saint Potter had to burst into THIS conversation. He suddenly feels self-conscious and absently tries to smoothen his hair and robes, putting on a cold facade. Draco had hoped that he would never have to see Potter ever again. Potter who's the reason Draco and his mother are now free again, Saint Potter who has testified on their behalf in front the whole Wizengamot at today's trial. Because of course Potter would do something like that, he probably gets off on how many good deeds for undeserving Death Eaters he can scram into a day.
'Fuck him and fuck freedom.' Draco thinks furiously 'Without that bastard, I wouldn't have to go back to the Manor, wouldn't have to face the horrifying memories lurking there. Why couldn't he just let me rot in Azkaban where I belong?'
Not that Draco really wants to be there. The last 4 months stuck in that tiny, freezing cell, with all of his deepest fears and regrets playing in his mind on repeat, had probably been the most horrible of his life. But he has heard that the new Minister of Magic is currently planning on cleansing Azkaban from the Dementors very soon, so it shouldn't be that bad there then, right?
Also he really, REALLY doesn't want Potters charity!
Why did he even bother? It's not like that git had ever cared about him before. He hadn't even taken Draco's hand first year, in what was, mind you, a very generous offer, for fucks sake. Potter seemingly caring about him evokes hopes in Draco, hopes that he had thought long vanquished. And even though Draco knows, he knows that Potter just is a nice, decent, fucking amazing human-being, who would have probably even helped the Dark Lord, had that psychopath ever asked for it, he can't help but feel the tiniest spark of hope, as Potter approaches him. Hope that he really helped Draco for Draco's sake, not just because it was the right thing to do in his stupidly heroic Gryffindor mind.
Potter seems nervous... What if he actually cares about Draco? What if it's not just his good deed of the day? What if this really means something? But as soon as Potter stands in front of him he sees it in his eyes,
Pity
And Draco's blood freezes over and his heart closes off. There is nothing worse that Potter could feel for him than pity! So he sneers, because at least then Potter will be angry with him again. Angry Potter is safe, Draco has gotten used to that, has come to rely on making Potter angry, because otherwise he wouldn't even think of him at all, and that would be the only thing even worse than pity, Draco thinks, indifference.
''Potter? What do you want?'' Draco says in the best condescending manner he can muster right now.
Potter just stares at him for a moment ''I... um. I've come to give you back your wand.'' he mumbles.
And now Draco is the one staring at Potter. Potter looks nervously down to his feet, shuffling from one foot to the other and stroking a hand through his already untamable dark curls, ruffling it even more. But when he lifts his head again and those emerald-green eyes meet Draco's, all he can see in them again is pity. And that makes Draco furious. Desperately trying to erase the pity from Potter's eyes, the only way he knows how to, he sneers:
''Oooh perfect little Potter, so noble with such a big fucking heart. The Saviour, the boy-who-lived-twice and still delivering packages like a fucking house-elf''
He spits these last words like he used to say mudblood, because Potter, the house-elf-lover, simply MUST get furious at this. Potter's ocean green eyes indeed widen and yes! The pity vanishes from his gaze, and... is replaced by... Nothing? No!
'You're supposed to be angry Potter!' Draco wants to scream, 'You're supposed to fight back!'
''Mr. Potter, my apologies for my sons' behaviour, he is not quite himself yet, Azkaban, you know...'' Mother suddenly tries to intervene.
Slowly Potter gazes at her and says ''No Mrs. Malfoy, I believe he is exactly himself at this moment''
He turns to face Draco again, whose heart has sunken even deeper by Potter's display of indifference.
''You know Malfoy,'' Potter says, looking more through than at him ''I really thought that after the war we could leave all these childish rivalries behind us, but I guess for you it has never been quite like that, has it? It wasn't childish behaviour on your part that could be outgrown, it's just simply you.''
Draco doesn't want Potter to think that he's worth nothing, that he's just a stupid child he once went to school with, and that he soon will forget all about. Because anger might linger, but indifference doesn't. Potter will move on, and leave their rivalry, and by that Draco, behind. He doesn't know what to say, he HAS to say something! Anything so that Potter won't forget about him as soon as he walks away!
But his mind cannot come up with anything, he feels blank and weak and suddenly he is dissociating and watches from outside his body how utterly terrified he looks, as Potter stretches out his hand. For a moment Draco is reminded again of that time in first year, seven years ago to the day, when Potter refused Dracos offer for friendship, when he turned down Dracos outstretched hand, maybe this? This could be another chance? Is Harry Potter really offering his hand to Draco? But then he sees it, Potter is just trying to return Draco's wand to him.
So Draco takes a deep breath, centering his mind back into his body and reaches out for Potter's hand and his wand.
But as soon as they both touch, a blinding light explodes from their joined hands and Draco is thrown high up in the air, then sucked down to the floor again and everything turns dark.
* * *
First there is nothing but a deafening static, his body contracting and expanding over and over again. Then suddenly his head slams against something hard and he can hear himself groan. Slowly other sounds start to filter through
''Harry? Are you okay?''
He winces and blinks open his eyes. The first thing he sees is red hair and then suddenly a young face comes into focus.
''Harry mate? What was that? Do you need something?'' the red-haired-child asks.
''Um, what, wait what happened, where...?'' he begins, but stops abruptly at the juvenile sound of his voice. Weird, his voice hasn't broken like that since third year! Confused he rakes a hand through his hair and carefully begins to sit up.
''You fell'' answers the child ''Malfoy reached out his hand and you made to swat it away and then both of you were kinda.. blown off each other? Like an invisible explosion or something! He must've tried to hurt you or something!''
That makes Harry abruptly sit up the rest of the way and regard the young boy for real this time. Oh no! Oh no no no no no! It can't be! This CHILD in front of him is clearly his best friend Ron, but not the Ron he spent the last year hunting Horcruxes with. Not the Ron who stood by him at the battle of Hogwarts 4 months ago. This is a child Ron Weasley, and by the looks of it a first year. Harry's eyes widen as he takes in his best friend's young form, then snaps his head around as he hears another voice groaning from his right side.
He barely registers the interior of a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, his eyes finding another small figure lying a few feet further away from him. The figure begins to move slowly and Harry can see the telltale white-blond hair.
''Malfoy!''
he jumps up and almost trembles back down to the floor, his feet barely supporting his body
''Malfoy, what the fuck have you done?'' he yells as the other boy slowly opens his eyes.
Unfocused grey eyes meet his and Harry watches as they suddenly focus and widen in what looks like Horror as Malfoys jaw flaps open.
''What have you done Malfoy?'' he screams again ''What the fuck is going on? Wasn't it enough for you to get away scot-free after all the shit you did? You had to curse me too?''
Malfoys mouth opens and closes but no sound emerges from his lips. Harry can feel anger as hot as flames rising inside him and with a growl that sounds more feral than human he lunges forward towards the child Draco Malfoy.
But before he reaches the man-turned-boy two figures he didn't notice before step in front of Malfoys body and push him back onto the floor.
''Leave Draco alone, half-blood.'' one of them growls. Goyle, his mind supplies, this is a child Gregory Goyle! what the fuck.
''You want us to mess him up Draco?'' comes the question from the second child.
Harry's eyes dart to the owner of the voice. ''Crabbe'' he whispers.
The compartment starts to whirl and blur and Harry can feel flames grabbing at his ankles, can hear screams echoing in the room, screams of someone burning alive, someone he can not save, Vincent Crabbe. He must've screamed too, because suddenly child Ron is over him again looking confused and panicked.
''Hey Harry, mate! You're okay! I won't let them hurt you!''
Harry tries to focus on Ron's face and draws in a sharp breath. There is no smoke in the air, he tells himself, he's not in the Room of Requirement fleeing from Fiendfyre, he is not listening to one of his yearmates dying, he is on the Hogwarts Express and in no imminent danger. At least not from Fiendfyre. What happened to him? Is he unconscious somewhere in St Mungos? Has he died somehow and this is a very weird version of hell? It can't be what he begins to suspect it is. He can't be back to the beginning of first year. He can't have suffered through a whole war, can't have lost so many people he loved, can't have killed Voldemort just to be back here. No, Malfoy must've done something, he must've hexed him and someone will figure out what is wrong with him and pull him back into reality. All these thoughts are too much for him, he absentmindedly rakes his hand through his hair, a habit he has for as long as he can remember, and pulls it back wincing, as he suddenly feels a stabbing pain in his head. The last thing he sees is his bloody hand and Ron's worried face and then he collapses back onto the floor and everything turns dark again.
***
He watches in shock as a tiny Potter seems to scream at him in anger, he can't hear what he's saying but it must be something nasty judging by the fury in his green eyes. Apparently Draco has not only lost his hearing but can't seem to bring himself to say a word. Yes, he wanted Potter angry, but not like that! He wanted an angry eighteen-year-old Potter, not this tiny little thing in front of him. What the fuck is going on? Slowly sound comes back to him and he hears Potter
''What the fuck have you done Malfoy?''
Um nothing? He wants to say. What does he mean, sure, it always has to be Draco's fault so Potter can stay the perfect little martyr, Draco tries for snark, but he is still so shook he can't really muster his usual sneer.
''...had to curse me too?'' angry little Potter finishes and Draco is almost ready to snap at him, that he doesn't care enough about Potter to curse him and that he probably did something Gryffindor-stupid that fucked them both over, when someone steps in front of him.
Then a voice asks him if they should beat Potter up and oh Salazar!
Its Vince! Tiny little Vince. Well, not as tiny as Potter, because Vince never really was what you could call tiny, his brain unhelpfully supplies, but still!
Vince! Draco is so horrified at seeing him alive that he stumbles back to his feet and staggers backwards away from the compartment door into the train hallway. He comes to an abrupt halt as he collides with someone, and almost looses his footing again. He turns around only to see two small children, the boy looking at him nervously, while the little girl levels him with her brown eyes and a superior look.
''Do you mind? Stop running backwards, you're going to hurt someone!''
He can only stare in disbelief as he realizes that in front of him is a tiny little Granger, who's looking at him as if he is an annoying child, and as he doesn't answer her, she rolls her eyes and asks
''Well, since we're already talking, have you seen a toad? Neville here has lost his.'' and she gestures to the nervous little boy next to her.
That's Longbottom??
''I- I haven't...'' he begins, but his voice comes out as a squeak and suddenly everything is too much for him and he starts running.
He just needs to get away, needs to be alone, as he reaches the train bathrooms, he pulls the door open and slams it shut behind him, locking it. Slowly he turns his head to look into the bathroom mirror... He already knew what he would see, but being faced with this tiny version of himself staring back at him in utmost horror is still a shock to Draco.
''Fuck, no! No no no way, What the fuck, Salazar's fucking tits this can't be real'' he mutters. He can feel himself getting sick and he empties his stomach over the toilet.
''Draco? Are you in there?'' comes from outside the door,
''It's just Vince and me, do you need something?''
Fuck! He can't even look at Vince without getting a panic attack, how is he supposed to talk to him? He needs to get rid of them.
''I'm fine, leave me alone'' he grunts towards the door.
''But Draco...'' Greg starts again
''I said I'm FINE! Go away or I'll hex you as soon as I open this door! And don't think I'm going to hold back! I'm going to cut out your tongues if you don't LEAVE ME ALONE RIGHT NOW!!''
There's a ruffle in front of the door and then receding footsteps. Draco takes a deep breath. Was he too hard on them? He doesn't know, he just needs to be alone to think.
What is going on? Did Potter somehow hex his wand and this is a trap, and he'll go straight back to Azkaban if he messes just the tiniest bit up? But no, Potter seems to think he did something, what was it he said? That Draco cursed him?
Stupid fucking Gryffindor, there is no curse that transports two people back in... fuck. In time. This is what this is. They have traveled back in time.
Seven years to be exact. Fuck Fuck Fuck okay. How to proceed? Draco is smart, sure, but this situation is a little too high even for him.
Okay, so assuming this really is time travel (ignoring the way they seem to be INSIDE their young bodies, no time travel Draco has ever heard of does THAT) then he could change things, right? He could make sure Vince never dies, he could even prevent himself from taking the Dark Mark...
But oh, what if the changes he makes somehow alter the timeline so much that the Dark Lord wins in the end? Fuck, no he can't let that happen!
And if that means he has to live the whole seven years exactly as he lived them before, if that's what it takes to make sure that the Dark Lord dies, then he will have to do just that.
How, he has no fucking idea. Fuck, he is going to live through all of that again? Even the thought makes him vomit again, as the train abruptly comes to a halt. Cleaning his face as efficiently as possible over the sink- wait a second, if this truly is seven years ago, then he should have... He yelps as he pulls out his wand from his robes. Amazed he admires his, HIS wand! It's been so long that he's had his own. Still grinning from the feeling of a Scourgify cast with his own wand, Draco hops off the train and onto the platform of Hogsmeade station.
As he makes to look for the other first years, there is a rumble in front of him and a voice shouts
''That's him! That's Malfoy! He did something to Harry!'' and he sees a baby-faced Ronald Weasley pointing angrily in his direction.
Fuck, okay what now? But Draco hasn't got any time to think, because from behind Weasley and the crowd the git's gathered around himself, Hagrid comes walking towards him, and in his arms, there is the motionless figure of a small Harry Potter.
And when he blinks the Potter in Hagrids arms is older, and Hagrid is crying and the Dark Lord is laughing, and Harry Potter is DEAD! And it's all over! And he will never, ever...
Draco staggers backwards again, away from the dead body of the Saviour, away from the laughing Death Eaters and then he falls, and as he blinks he can see the Hogwarts Express looming over him, as he is lying in the rails and then for the second time today (or the first, if you don't count seven years ago) everything around him turns dark.