Chapter 3
The room bathed in an ethereal glow as Draco Malfoy opened his eyes, a disoriented grogginess settling in. The familiar surroundings of his childhood bedroom at Malfoy Manor came into focus, but an undeniable difference lingered in the air. As he sat up, the bed sheets pooled around him, a knot of confusion forming in the pit of his stomach.
In that moment, a chain of events unfolded to redefine the Malfoy legacy. The past and future collided in that room, setting the stage for a journey where Draco would navigate the complexities of time, family, and the unwritten future ahead.
Draco found solace in the fact that the ritual worked. He could clearly see he was in a younger body in his childhood bedroom, and it looked the same as the past. The room, adorned with the opulence befitting the Malfoy name, held memories that seemed both distant and achingly close.
A silent victory echoed within him. The satisfaction of manipulating time to his advantage, the sense of control over destiny, fuelled a flicker of satisfaction within Draco. For a brief moment, the weight of the war-torn future lifted, replaced by the illusion of a familiar, comforting past.
Yet, as the quiet triumph settled within him, an unexpected disturbance disrupted the tranquillity. Draco felt a subtle shift in the air, a ripple in the carefully woven fabric of time. His keen senses picked up on the nuances—the presence of another.
Draco cursed under his breath, frustration and dread intertwining. The meticulous plans, the careful calculations—something had gone awry. A ripple had turned into a torrent, threatening to unravel the very fabric of his desperate attempt to alter the course of history.
Internal monologues echoed through Draco's mind, a cacophony of self-recrimination and frustration. Where had he gone wrong? Was it a flaw in the incantations, a miscalculation in the arcane dance of time manipulation? The answers eluded him, shrouded in the enigmatic veil of magical forces beyond his comprehension.
As he stood in the dimly lit room, shadows cast by the moon playing across his face, Draco grappled with the consequences of his actions. The younger Draco, blissfully ignorant, slept on, while the older version struggled to comprehend the implications of this unforeseen twist.
"Merlin's beard," Draco muttered, running a hand through his hair. His mind raced to make sense of the inexplicable situation. His endeavour to rewrite history thrust him into a world where time's boundaries blurred, and past and future collided in an intricate dance.
Draco felt a surreal displacement. The room, once solely his, now housed two versions of himself—one experienced and battle-hardened, the other naive and blissfully unaware of his fate.
The presence of his past self stirred conflicting emotions within Draco. He had not anticipated the tumult that would accompany this encounter. It was as if two separate timelines converged in that room, each demanding recognition and asserting its claim over the Malfoy legacy.
He observed the peaceful slumber of his younger self, the innocence reflected in the boy's untroubled dreams. The air was charged with a strange harmony—a temporal equilibrium where the present merged seamlessly with the past. It was a delicate balance that Draco hoped to maintain, for the sake of the Malfoy legacy and the twisted web of fate he sought to weave.
I can’t take his place and change the future if there are two of us–
It wasn’t meant to be like this, I was meant to take his place, there shouldn’t have been two of us–NO, there CAN’T be two of us….
I have to… I have to kill him.
An otherworldly energy crackled in the air, leaving Draco with the lingering taste of desperation—a haunting reminder of the daring attempt to alter his life. Beside him, the second figure slumbered peacefully, an uncanny mirror of himself…
Is it really murder if you’re killing yourself? Would this not technically be a suicide…it’s all consensual really, and its for a better future.
But he’s not really you is he?
He’s an innocent and naive self that does not yet know the true horrors the future will bring–
WON’T be, If things stick to plan…can’t let things off the rails by chickening out of killing his unexpected younger self now.
but things have already gone off the rails and you haven’t even started yet….
Am I really going to kill a child?
The realisation struck him like a blow. Panic surged through Draco as he beheld his younger self, blissfully unaware of the impending upheaval…but no…he won’t be able to do it. He won’t be able to kill this child, himself, he cannot take away the chance of the happy future he himself lost and is fighting to build from this younger innocent version of himself. He couldn’t bring himself to kill the beloved son that this young Draco’s parents, his parents, loved so much, just to ease his journey here.
Draco stared at the unmistakable outline of the Young Draco Malfoy he once was—the boy he now sought to guide and, in some way, protect from the shadows that loomed in their future.
We’ll find a way to incorporate me into the family somehow–it’s the only way to gain their trust… family… anyone not family wouldn’t just be ignored, but be considered a threat and eliminated….
Create a false identity…
I’ll be a distant Malfoy cousin born from a squib line–wait no…
A Black-Malfoy cousin born of the two squib lines that was gifted with magic…and take claim of some of the allocated money left for branch black family members, before Potter inherits it all from Sirius–
Cousin Sirius! He’ll escape soon!
This means I’ll need to hurry up in claiming some of the black fortunes, before Sirius takes up the mantle after his escape and does a review of the Black family expenditures.
A little blackmail and manoeuvring behind the scenes–
But this body is so young, it would be impossible to–
My parents have always wanted more children, but were unable to conceive…
as a Black-Malfoy child with magic of a similar age to Young Draco, they’ll be forced to take me in…
Pull at their heart strings…
I look identical to Draco, they wouldn’t be able to say no even if they wanted to.
I’m going to have to tell my parents the partial truth, maybe a prophecy of the future and pretend to be a seer?
Maybe pretend to be a gifted seer and share some visions of the future and family secrets that nobody would know to keep them in line…then we can figure things out from there
With a rough plan in mind, Draco quickly regained his composure, then moved away from the sleeping figure of his younger self. The vulnerability of the boy struck a chord within him. He remembered that innocence, the days when the weight of the world had yet to descend upon his shoulders.
I’ll have to leave now, maybe take a few galleons off young draco and find a room in the leaky cauldron for the night…
it would be hard to explain my presence in the un-plottable manor....
then send an owl early in the morning to reveal my presence and orphaned circumstances to my parents
Yes, this will work!
Then I’ll–
The young Draco stirred, blinking away sleep, confused suspicion etched across his face as he met the gaze of the older Draco. The gravity of the situation settled between them, and silence hung heavy in the air.
"Who the hell are you?" Young Draco demanded, fear etched across his face.