thirteenth lotus leaf

Draco was incredibly nervous. Surely he couldn't be sorted anywhere else. He wasn't even brave, he was just trying to save his own skin. As always, he was planning his escape.

"If you put me with those filthy Gryffindors, I won't hesitate to kill the first red-head I see," Okay, admittedly, that threat was a bit excessive, but the hat remained silent.

"You've seen everything and you know. You're clever, you're knowledgeable, I think you'll be very successful in RAW-"

"Damn it, let me eat in SLYTHERIN already!" The hat paused again.

"Yes, yes, there's cunning. Even with threats, you don't give up, ambition, ambition, but are you sure? You've been in Slytherin before. Can you change your ways?"

"I can."

"Then I think you'd better eat in SLYTHERIN." Draco sighed as the hat was lifted from his head. That hat was crazy. He'd almost witnessed something that could fundamentally change the entire timeline, and he wouldn't lie, he was scared.

He walked over to Vincent and Gregory, who were waiting for him with pleased looks. There was a faint applause from Slytherin. He sat down at the dinner table. He had really gotten off easy. Meanwhile, Moon Lily was called. He snapped out of his daze when he was pinched from the side. Daphne, with her blonde hair, looked at him questioningly.

"What took you so long?" Theodore Nott sat down beside them.

"That idiot was messing with me," Pansy's turn came.
"He tried to put me in every single house,"

Pansy was now laughing. All her anger seemed to have gone. If an apology could change things so much, Draco thought he wished he knew how to do it earlier.

"Well, Pansy has the record for the most fastes, he tried to put me in Ravenclaw," Theo spoke for the first time. Draco had forgotten how shy he was in his early years. Pansy pretended to check her nails and tossed her hair.

"You can't surpass my perfection, you losers," They all rolled their eyes. Draco would envy her if he didn't know better. Even this thought made him chuckle, at least his stomach felt better. Blaise was the only one missing from the group, his name hadn't been called yet.

"Potter, Harry."

Silence fell once more. It wasn't helping the boy's tension. Draco could hear the whispers. Being famous must be hard. He rolled his eyes. Draco scratched his arm again, without realizing it. The sorting took a little longer than usual.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Potter climbed down from the stool, looking somewhat relieved. He glanced at the Slytherin table with a strange look. His expression was unreadable. He made brief eye contact with Draco and then looked away. He could hear the twins' cheers. He rolled his eyes. He had been rolling his eyes for years and had never developed an eye disease. A girl was chosen for Ravenclaw, then a Weasley, and then, after a patient wait, Blaise. He sat next to Nott.

"Congratulations, Blaise, you almost made it," Pansy smirked victoriously.

"Instead of bragging so much, you should be offended that the hat didn't even consider putting you in Ravenclaw," Blaise smirked playfully.

"Hey, did you just call me stupid?" Pansy hit Blaise's arm rather hard.

"That won't be forgotten, Zabini."

"I wasn't expecting that." He missed this kind of banter so much. But they hadn't been this cheerful in the original timeline. Bad thoughts crept into Draco's mind. Were all their attitudes due to his childish behavior? Draco felt like all his happiness was being sucked out by Dementors. Right now, he would gladly give one of those things a kiss.

Albus Dumbledore stood up. He spread his arms wide and smiled.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before the feast begins, I'd like to say something. Here it goes: Yell! Shriek! Shin! Bead!"

"Thank you!"

Everyone clapped and cheered. Slytherin, of course, just clapped.

"Doesn't everyone agree that he's crazy?" Daphne asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Yep," Pansy nodded, her bobbed hair bobbing up and down.

"Exactly," Gregory and Crabbe said in unison.

Blaise folded his arms and shook his head, while Theo didn't even bother to answer.

"They say all clever people are mad," Nobody spoke again, food appeared in front of them. Draco had learned his lesson from last time and didn't left his right side empty. He didn't want the Bloody Baron sitting next to him again.
The feast was enjoyable. Dumbledore gave them one last cautionary speech. It seemed more directed at the Weasley twins.

Oh, right, there was the troll incident this year. Draco planned to stay as far away from it as possible. It was as if he could hear someone whispering in his mind that they wouldn't let him.

And that awful music, if you could call it that.
Nonsense.
Under the leadership of the prefect, they went to their dormitories. Draco cheered up a bit when he saw the underwater windows. In his fifth year, he had shared his sadness with the mermaids. It wasn't that bad, of course, unless you couldn't get rid of the feeling of being watched while you slept. He remembered how panicked he had been the first time. The giant squid that came every night to put them to sleep hadn't helped much either.

Draco collapsed onto his bed. Before falling asleep, he saw Theodore fidgeting, looking out the window. He would manage.
.
..
...
Tick tock
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick tock tick tock

"Draco"

"Wake up, Draco, when did you become such a heavy sleeper?" A man's voice was speaking. Well, he was home alone, who could have come?

"Draco, you can't pretend to be asleep with your eyes open," the speaker's voice sounded very much like Blaise. No, it couldn't be Blaise, he had disappeared after the war. He only sent a letter every two months, and Draco couldn't even write back because he didn't know where he was.

"Ah, I give up, I can't miss dinner for you, try to deceive better next time, you damn Slytherin," Blaise's voice was fading away. For a second, BLAISE?!

Draco immediately sat up and looked around. He had time-traveled, damn it. A pain shot through his head. He got ready quickly. He reached for the hair gel in the bathroom and stopped. He gave up, he wasn't going to put that stuff on again. He remembered how his father had looked at his hair during his third-year vacation and wondered how he had managed to take it out. What could he say? He felt rebellious. And this time, his father had to realize that he was not just a copy of himself, but also his son. Maybe he would come to his senses.

He didn't want to be late for breakfast, and as soon as he decided he looked perfect as always, he walked quickly into the living room. He immediately sat to the left of Pansy. Breakfast was almost over.

When were you planning on coming?" Pansy seemed to be saying it every chance she got.

"I overslept, where's everyone else?" Pansy and Blaise looked at him.

"Obviously we waited for you," Pansy raised an eyebrow. "I saved you both something and Dray, your mom sent chocolates." His mother's chocolates were the best. Noticing his shining face, she said, "I'll give it to you when you finish your meal." Draco started to pout. There was no point in arguing with Pansy. He started to eat the food set aside for him. A hand rested on his hair, stroking it lightly. Draco was surprised. The first time Pansy touched his hair, they were in their fourth year, and she had asked him hesitantly. Apparently, his past behavior had really affected his friends, Draco pouted even more.

"Come on, Blaise, that food won't eat itself," you couldn't stop Pansy from scolding. Her hand was still in his hair.

"Can I share my thoughts?"

"Don't you always?" Pansy laughed mockingly.

"Your hair looks better this way, honey, don't try to put it under that hard gel again, look how soft it is," this sentence sounded very familiar to Draco. At the end of his fourth year, he had fallen asleep in Pansy's lap on the train, and she had said this while playing with his hair. His eyes began to sting.

"At least it doesn't look like you've licked it,"

"Now now, Blaise, don't be rude, at least I have hair,"
He was shocked by the potato puree that hit his cheek.

"Okay, Blaise. Now you've done it," He dipped his spoon generously into the cream and threw it directly at Blaise's head. Blaise dodged the cream by leaning to the side.

"You have to do better than that, Drey," Now they were grinning.

"There are teachers, you guys," neither of them looked at Pansy. It was just Quirrell anyway. Now they were busy throwing things at each other. He froze at a large dollop of cream that suddenly hit his cheek. Blaise looked shocked too. Pansy was grinning at them, both her hands covered in cream.

"Since you won't stop, count me in,"

Blaise and Draco looked at each other and laughed.
"Are you sure, Pans? We won't feel sorry for you," Draco gave a big grin.

"If your manicure gets ruined, I won't help you fix it again," Blaise added.

Suddenly, a cream pie hit Blaise right in the face.
"Don't underestimate me, pretty boy," Pansy high-fived Draco.

"Right on target, good job Pans," Blaise was ready to throw his hands in the air when they froze at the sudden sound.

"Th-this is unacceptable, minus t-t-ten points from Slytherin," Quirrell had arrived. All three of them looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Pansy pulled both of them away from the table, ignoring her creamed hands.

"Spoilsport," Pansy muttered. Draco looked at his creamed shirt and winced.

"Well, that was a good thing, classes are about to start, you don't want to be late for the first class, do you?" Blaise spoke wearily.

"You're only saying that because you lost,"

"There are no losers here, Pans," Blaise sighed.

"You think so,"

Draco, hungry and chocolate-less, didn't take to the first day of classes very well. He hadn't been to school for many years, and the pace had suddenly caught up with him. And he didn't have any chocolate. He was furious. He couldn't even bring himself to listen to History of Magic. Draco used to love History of Magic. Call him a nerd or a freak, but he was fascinated by ancient wars and events. Pansy didn't listen to the lessons, but she always got high marks because Draco would tell her about the events like they were gossip, and Pansy loved gossip. And in most topics, there was always a mention of her ancestors.

After History of Magic, Pansy finally agreed to give him the chocolates. His day had become more bearable. He was so bored that in Transfiguration, where he could easily turn silly matchsticks into needles, he hadn't even twitched a hair, and he had been scolded for it.

...

The days passed quickly. Before he knew it, it was Friday, which meant Potions class, a shared class with Gryffindors. Severus Snape, his godfather who was dead. Draco's eyes were getting hot again. He had no appetite at all today, and Pansy wasn't there to feed him. He was also avoiding the Golden Trio as much as possible. He seemed to be going to close this week without even making eye contact with any of them. Draco, who had decided not to eat, got up without saying anything to his friends. Vincent and Gregory hadn't gotten into the habit of following him either. Draco was happy about this. It was helping him clear his head. There was a lot for a time traveler to digest.

After wandering around the garden, Draco went down to the dungeons. He sat in an empty seat near his friends. They were looking at him questioningly. He shook his head, it wasn't the time. Snape entered like a bat. Even though Draco had been preparing for this throughout breakfast, it didn't work. He felt like he was spinning.

Draco wasn't paying attention again, he was wasting time. His arm itched, and this time it itched harder. It looked like he would have a few scratch marks. Snape had already finished taking attendance. He hadn't even said anything to Draco.

"...Unless you're one of those idiots who call themselves students, of course."

Silence fell over the class. Snape suddenly said, "Potter." Draco had forgotten about this detail. His godfather hated the Potters. And he had poisoned the first lesson for the boy, as well as scaring most of the students, including a few Slytherin students. You can't blame him, he has too much trauma.

"What do I get if I add ground mandrake root to hemlock potion?"

Draco's darkening eyes stopped suddenly. Potter was very surprised.

"I don't know, sir," Snape curled his lip mockingly.

"Tsk-tsk, so being famous isn't enough," Draco could even feel his open hatred. If Hermione continued to raise her hand, she would be the next victim of hatred.

"Let's try again, Potter, if I asked you to bring me a bezoar, where would you look?" Hermione raised her hand again. When his friends saw that he wasn't smiling, they stopped grinning. Yes, he was influencing his friends, he was sure of that now.

"I don't know, sir," The heartbroken boy didn't break eye contact with Snape. Draco didn't expect less.

"Have you ever read a book before coming here, Potter?

"What's the difference between a daisy and an earwig, Potter?"

Draco's eyes widened in realization. Snape wasn't so much humiliating Potter as he was testing his intelligence. He was looking for a piece of Lily in him, which he considered an enemy. And Potter seemed to be failing the test.

"I don't know, but I think Hermione does, why don't you ask her?" Potter did great, good for him. The man will never let go of your collar now. The class burst into laughter.

"Sit down," Snape was about to speak when Draco muttered without realizing it.

"Unless you want to share something with the class, Mr. Malfoy,"

Draco had spoken without realizing it, and Snape seemed even angrier. Draco swallowed, unable to look at the man's face.

"I just said the answer, sir,"

"Oh? Say it again, a little louder, shall we?" Draco forced himself to look at him, he didn't want to make the man even angrier by looking away while speaking. Snape was staring at him with narrowed eyes. Hermione looked quite sad.

"If you mix wormwood and nightshade, you get a powerful sleeping potion called living death, sir. Bezoar is taken from the stomach of a goat and is used as an antidote. There is no difference between a daisy and a earwig the other name is butterbur,"

"Well done, Mr. Malfoy, ten points for Slytherin,"

Draco relaxed, thinking he had escaped just in time, but the man turned to him again.

"But we both know you didn't say that at first, Mr. Malfoy, it seems like you have more to share."

Draco swallowed harder this time. The man was searching his eyes. His eyebrows were getting more and more furrowed, and he wouldn't take his coal-black eyes off him. Draco forced himself to speak.

"In the Victorian language of flowers, Wormwood is a type of Lily. The meaning of Nightshade is; Regret, Pain, Remorse for loss."

"Enough, Mr. Malfoy, you've made your point. Potter, eleven points will be deducted from Gryffindor for your insolence," he spoke, looking at Potter, then turned back to Draco.

"I would say the same to you, Mr. Malfoy, but you will lose two points for your information, I advise you not to say these things in public next time," he looked at him with a slight pride and anger. Draco strengthened his mental barrier and made eye contact with the man for the first time. His eyebrows raised slightly, but he said nothing else.

Draco said in a hoarse voice, "Yes, Professor."

Snape turned back to the class. "Now, why aren't you taking notes?"

"The lesson progressed as it had before, the only difference being that Snape didn't praise him or even make eye contact.

Draco was slightly relieved. He was serious when he said everything was going the same as last time. Longbottom had blown up the cauldron.

Draco sighed and cursed himself for not remembering the events.