Chapter 5
The next few days were spent mastering the spell to change Peter Pettigrew back into a human being.
They waited until the weekend to cast it, when no one would notice if they weren’t around, and Harry led them to the shrieking shack for optimal privacy. And maybe a bit of nostalgia.
Together, they pointed their wands at the rat, still magically encased in the small wooden trunk, the lid now open.
“Irritum Facio!” Harry, Ron, and Hermione shouted at once, and a blue light flashed from their wands into the box.
In the next moment a man stood where the rat once sat, tripping over the wooden box and landing on his back.
Bloody hell! Ron squealed, falling backwards in fear. “Who the fuck are you? What the fuck have you done to Scabbers?!”
While Hermione helped Ron up, Harry pinned Pettigrew to the ground, the tip of his wand pushing into his throat.
“Harry,” the man croaked. “You-you look so much like your father.” Harry jabbed his wand more forcefully into Pettigrew’s windpipe. “Shut up,” he growled. “What did you hear?”
“Nothing,” Pettigrew whimpered. “Please,” he begged grabbing Harry’s legs.
Harry looked back to his friends, Ron still pale as a ghost but back on his feet and somewhat recovered from his shock.
He moved to stand beside Harry. “You stay away from him!” he yelled, kicking at Pettigrew.
Harry felt like he stepped into a pensieve. He took a step back before he did something he’d regret. “So, now do you believe me?” he asked his friends.
“I always believed you,” Hermione answered with a huff, coming up to stand on Harry’s other side.
“Yep, sorry to have doubted you and all Harry, but what do we do with him?” Ron said, still standing over his former pet rat in horror.
“Stupefy!” Hermione’s spell hit Pettigrew square in the chest, his body falling limp on the ground. She pushed past Harry to get closer. “Reverti!”
In an instant, Pettigrew was back in his animagus form, still stunned on the ground. “I always hated this thing,” she said, reaching out to put him back in the box. She followed the action with about 10 locking and protection spells Harry had never heard of before.
He stared at her. “What?” She asked. “I wanted to be prepared.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh – partly at the absurdity of it all, but mostly out of relief that his friends were really in this with him. After a beat, Ron and Hermione joined him.
In the end, they decided to keep Pettigrew locked away under a stasis charm until they could figure out who to take him to.
“What about your parents?” Ron suggested later that evening as Harry was preparing for bed. “You said they were friends with him right? So maybe they’ll know how to get him to talk.”
The thought hadn’t even crossed Harry’s mind. While he knew his parents were alive in this timeline, he still hadn’t got a chance to meet them or speak to them in person. The thought of doing that felt surreal.
“I suppose,” he said. “They did say they were going to come up for the next Hogsmeade weekend.”
“Brilliant! That’s next week!”
The news rattled Harry. He hadn't realized how much time had already passed since he’d arrived in this place.
“Sirius’ll probably be there too,” Ron continued, oblivious to Harry’s inner panic.
“Maybe we could ask Lupin to join us as well? And tell them together? Although I suppose we’ll have to find a way to get rid of Malfoy.” Ron wrinkled his nose.
Harry blinked.
“Why would Malfoy be there?”
“Well Sirius’ll be wanting to see him, I imagine. And you know, I figure since you two are together and all…”
Harry sat up in bed and turned to his friend.
“Ugh. Gross! Stop it, I’m not dating Malfoy! And besides, if we’re so in love-”
“Whoa. Didn’t say anything about love, mate. Besides, you may not be dating him but he’s definitely dating our Harry. Er, no offense.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine, if we’re supposedly so into each other then why has he been avoiding me and acting so weird?”
Ron yawned. “Dunno. Sure you didn’t forget an anniversary or something?”
Harry threw a pillow at him.
“What! I’m just saying, maybe you forgot to get him a present for the anniversary of your first date, or first … whatever,” he said with a wave of his hand.
“Lavender’s mental about those things.”
Harry groaned and shut his curtains. That night he dreamed of blond hair and grey eyes.
**
The next day in Potions, Harry was determined to get through to Malfoy — or at least have a conversationwith him that consisted of more than “pass the dried billywig sting.”
If Harry was meant to be Malfoy’s boyfriend, he figured he was doing a pretty bad job of it the past couple of weeks. Maybe that was why he was getting the cold shoulder.
He kept Ron’s advice in mind, and decided to take a gentler approach.
“Hey,” he said with a smile, sitting down next to him.
“Potter,” was the response he got.
“Um listen, I know it’s been a bit…weird between us lately,” he started, unsure what exactly this reality’s Harry would do in this situation.
He reached out awkwardly for Malfoy’s hand but Malfoy quickly pulled away.
Harry tried not to show his relief.
“So, I know we said we would go to Hogsmeade together this weekend…” Harry continued, hoping that had in fact been the plan.
“Er, but I thought maybe we could get together before then, to…” to what? Harry thought. Give me a chance to collect intel? Figure out if you’re up to something?
“…too,” he finished lamely. Behind him, Hermione stifled a laugh. Harry glared at her.
“Look, Ma-ah,” Harry changed course when he felt Hermione kick his chair. “Draco, can we just talk?”
Malfoy finally looked at him, albeit suspiciously. “Fine. Meet me at the library at lunch tomorrow,” he said.
Harry grinned. “Great! I mean, yeah, sounds good.” He coughed, then added, “looking forward to it.”
This time Hermione didn’t even try to cover her laughter.
When Malfoy didn’t show at the library the next day, or to Potions the day after, or answer any of Harry’s carefully crafted letters (for which he had to endure Ron’s unabashed mocking), Harry grew suspicious.
He grabbed his cloak and decided to skip his next class, opting instead to break into Filch’s office, praying that by some miracle he’d find what he was looking for.
Ten minutes and a close call with Mrs. Norris later, Harry emerged victorious.
“I solemnly swear I’m up to no good,” he whispered, and the map unfurled in his hands.
Harry’s eyes fell to Malfoy’s name almost immediately.
He was headed to the owlery. Harry got there before him and waited.
Malfoy entered a few minutes later and went straight to his eagle owl, letter in hand. “Come, Athena,” he said, holding out his arm for her as a perch.
The owl dutifully flew to Malfoy and accepted a treat from his other hand. Harry watched as Malfoy attached an envelope to her leg and let her out the window.
Harry thought about revealing himself then before Malfoy could leave, but to his surprise, Malfoy just took out a pocket watch and waited.
Harry stood there with bated breath, trying to find the perfect moment to confront the other boy. He subtly moved to put himself between Malfoy and the door. Just as he was about to take off the cloak, the owl came swooping back through the window, the same letter still attached to her leg.
“Fuck!” Malfoy cursed, checking his watch. “Five minutes. That’s a new bloody record.” Harry watched in astonishment as Malfoy took the letter from his owl and burned it to cinders, letting the ash drop to the floor.
Harry scrambled to move out of the way as Malfoy made to exit. He quickly followed him down the corridor to the staircase, through a shortcut to the second floor.
When he got there, Malfoy looked around cautiously before entering the girls’ lavatory. That was Myrtle’s loo, Harry knew. Shame settled in Harry’s stomach at the memory of following Malfoy into this room in his own timeline. He resolved to do better this time.
With a deep breath, Harry entered the room into a familiar scene and removed his cloak.
Malfoy was leaning over the sink, hair mussed, knuckles white, breathing heavily.
Their eyes met in the mirror, fear and anger alight in Malfoy’s grey irises. That’s when Harry saw them.
“You have scars…” Harry whispered.
Malfoy whipped around to face Harry, his face streaked with tears and the top buttons of his shirt undone.
Harry stared at Malfoy’s chest and then back up at him.
“You have scars,” he said louder this time.
Malfoy’s eyes widened and he backed himself further into the sink.
“Listen, Potter…” he said, pulling his wand out from somewhere behind him.
But Harry wasn’t listening. He was charging towards Malfoy and before he knew it, the blond was wrapped in his arms, Harry’s sweater muffling the strangled sounds he was making.
The moment didn’t last.
Malfoy pushed him away with a scoff. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I told you, you’re delusional. There’s nothing between us.”
Harry couldn’t help the huge grin that lit up his face. Malfoy looked at him like he was deranged. Fair enough, he was a bit, probably.
“Malfoy – I know.”
Malfoy still looked skeptical but relaxed his stance a bit.
“Well, good…” he started, but Harry went on.
“No, I know it’s you. Like, the real you. The you from…where I’m from…where the war is happening and this year already happened but different,” Harry was rambling now, overwhelmed with the surge of joy that came with meeting someone from his own timeline.
Even if it was Malfoy.
The idea didn’t seem to bring Malfoy the same amount of joy – but he did look marginally less like a scared wet cat ready to attack.
“Fucking hell, Potter. What are you doing here?”
“Me?” Harry said incredulously. “What are you doing here?” he countered.
“Oh fuck, Malfoy is this some nefarious plot to help Voldemort by going back in time so he can win, because listen, this timeline seems a lot less apocalyptic and if you ruin it for everyone by…”
“NO, Potter, shut up, Merlin’s balls. Would you give me a second?”
“Well, why are you here then?”
Malfoy sighed.
“I don’t know. I just wanted to be…not there. And the next thing I knew, I woke up in the Slytherin dorm with Blaise telling me it’s time for class.“
Harry was taken aback by their similar experiences.
“Me too.”
Malfoy let down his guard then, appraising Harry.
“How long?” They said at the same time, and Harry huffed out a laugh.
“Um…a couple of weeks?” Harry said. He wasn’t sure how time worked here, whether it was the same as back home.
Malfoy blinked. “I’ve been here a month.”
“Wait,” he added, narrowing his eyes. “If you’re not this world’s Potter, why have you been sending me flowery letters and trying to snog me in potions?” he asked meanly.
“I wasn’t trying to snog you, Malfoy! Everyone told me we were,” here Harry stopped to make a face. “…together. But you kept avoiding me and I wanted to know what was going on with you, you know…since…”
“Since I’m a death eater.”
“Well, yeah!” Harry said defensively.
“Who’s everyone?”
“What?” Harry asked, irritated at being goaded by Malfoy.
“You said everyone told you we were,” here Malfoy stopped to smirk and mimic Harry’s sour expression. “…together. So who’s everyone? Have you told people that you’re not…”
“Just Ron and Hermione,” Harry said. “It’s fine, they’re helping, and they won’t tell anyone else,” he added before Malfoy could bite his head off about not knowing the basic rules of time and interdimensional travel. The swot.
“Listen, I think we should work together. It’ll be quicker to get back if we share information.”
“What makes you think I want to go back?” Malfoy scoffed.
Harry gave him a look. “Um, how about the fact that you’re crying by yourself in the girls’ loo and burning letters?”
“How do you know about my lett–have you been following me?!” Malfoy screamed.
“Yes? I thought we established that. And I’m going to keep following you until you agree to work with me so we can get out of this mess. What do you say, Malfoy? Do you want a partner, or a stalker?” Harry offered him his hand.
Malfoy looked at it like it was covered in dirt, but to Harry’s relief he shook it. “Fine. We can work together.”
Harry let out a breath.
“Okay. So, where were you when you wished to get away?”
Malfoy looked at Harry distrustfully for a moment, then as though seeming to say fuck it, shrugged and offered an answer.
“I was outside the room of hidden things. Right after-after we escaped the fire. A door appeared and I opened it.”
“You what?” Harry interrupted. “Malfoy why the fuck would you go back in ther-”
“I didn’t!” Malfoy yelled rather shrilly.
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t go back in, I went into a different room entirely. The fire was gone, and as soon as I stepped inside it was like being in a dream. The next thing I remember is waking up in my bed.”
“Oh,” Harry said. “Well, what have you been doing since you got here?”
Malfoy scowled at him. “Avoiding you, mostly,” he said with his arms crossed.
Harry rolled his eyes. “So same old then? I meant with your life. What have you learned? Have you found a way to get back?”
“Obviously not, Potter or I wouldn’t still be here,” Malfoy said derisively.
Harry hummed, lost in thought. “What about the room of requirement? Maybe we can go back and-”
“Don’t you think I tried that? There doesn’t seem to be one here.”
“Well that’s just spectacular.” Harry exhaled, leaning against the sink next to Malfoy’s.
“Well how did you get here?” Malfoy asked.
“Through a magical train from the afterlife,” Harry said earnestly.
“Fine, don't tell me,” Malfoy said. Harry shrugged. “So what was up with that letter anyway?”
Malfoy sighed, all fight leaving him. “If you must know, it was a letter to my mother. She…I’ve been trying to reach her since I arrived and she’s been sending the letters back. It seems the Manor's unplottable – because now my owl can’t even find her for her to reject me.”
“She didn’t reject you, Malfoy.”
“What do you know about it?” Malfoy asked angrily.
“Well, I know she asked Sirius Black, who’s my godfather by the way, to take you in, you know to protect you from whatever death eater business your father’s undoubtedly involved in.”
The blond crumpled in on himself. “Yeah,” he said and Harry tried not to feel bad for the git.
“Um, speaking of Sirius,” he said awkwardly. “Apparently he’s coming to Hogsmeade this weekend, with my…well, with my parents.”
Malfoy cocked his head to the side, looking at Harry curiously. “That’s right. You’re not the chosen one here. It’s weird, seeing you without the,” he gestured to his forehead.
Harry chuckled. “Yeah, it’s been weird for me too. And I suppose you don’t…” he nodded to Malfoy’s left arm. Malfoy drew it in towards himself.
“So Sirius, your parents…what about them?” he asked.
Harry cleared his throat. “Well Ron and Hermione and I had sort of an idea…”
Harry briefly explained to Malfoy that they had some information that could prove that Harry wasn’t from this timeline, and that they planned to share it with his parents at the weekend. He didn’t tell him that the information was actually a person currently in the form of a rat, hidden under stasis in a trunk in Ron’s wardrobe, but he wasn’t sure that was entirely necessary to divulge.
“So your idea is to…tell more people?” Malfoy asked skeptically.
“Not just people. The ord..er, adults. Professors.”
“Right.”
“Why don’t you come over on Friday and we can talk, all four of us?”
“Come over?”
“The Gryffindor common room.”
Malfoy raised a brow. “Going to give a snake the password to the lion’s den, Potter?”
Harry grinned. “No need. I’ll know when you’re there.”