𝕯𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝕯𝖊𝖈𝖊𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝕸𝖊
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!TW!
!MENTIONS OF ABUSE!
!MENTIONS OF DRUGS!
!MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE!
!CURSING!
!SLURS!
!SH SCARS!
!REFERENCE OF PAST RAPE!
!SUICIDAL TENDANCIES!
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Third person, Harry’s POV
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God fucking damn it.
Harry’s ears were still ringing when his vision slowly adjusted to the rubble. There was broken glass everywhere and things quickly caught on fire. Well. At least he wasn’t the one to crash the car this time. His ribs hurt so fucking bad. His head ached. Why couldn’t he just catch a break. What are the odds that after months of abuse, being found out, getting saved, and then getting attacked all within the same day, which happened to be his birthday? The kind of odds that only existed for the life of Harry Potter. Yay.
His head snapped in panic when he felt hands grab his wrists but quickly let out a breath when he realized it was Remus pulling him out through the broken window. Some of the shards cut him but he didn’t react, after all, he was used to cuts.
“Harry, are you alright?” Remus grabbed his shoulders, looking at him in concern.
Harry nodded, quickly stopping because it hurt his head. “Yeah.”
“The Deatheaters knew we’d be driving the muggle way, someone must’ve told. Moody and Tonks are fighting them off while Arthur’s getting the muggles out of here.” Remus quickly explained while rushing him away from plain sight into a tight alley.
Harry’s brain tried to keep up. He just got away from the Dursleys and got thrown into the action again. He wished people could just give him a break. He had half a mind to walk out there and ask them to kill him. Remus tossed him his shrunken trunk. “Keep this with you in case you have to get out of here on your own. I transfigured Hedwig into a toothbrush, she may not be happy when you turn her back but she’ll be safe.” Harry slipped the trunk into his pocket.
“We’re going to try and fight them off until backup arrives so we can get out of here.” Remus seemed to understand his dizziness. “Hey, cub, I know it’s a lot right now but we need to get you out of here and the only way is to fight our way out. If you feel like you aren’t able to, I want you to hide. It’s gonna be ok.”
Harry knew that wasn’t an option. All these people were here to protect him. He couldn’t hide while everyone else fought for him, he was supposed to be the boy who lived. He nodded before running out on the battlefield trying to ignore his wheezing lungs.
Colorful shots were being throttled through the air dangerously. Harry was very lucky that he was so small and quick. Quidditch and dodging household items had made Harry very high-strung when it came to his reflexes. He spotted about 7 death eaters. There was Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, Mulciber, Avery, Lucius, Bellatrix, and. . . was that Draco Malfoy? His heart sank. Ah fuck. If he saw Harry looking like this he’d never let it go.
He saw Tonks fighting Bellatrix off, just barely, Mr. Weasley was taking on the Lestrange brothers, Moody was going ham on Mulciber and Avery while Remus was taking shots at Lucius. Curiously, Remus only defended spells against Draco, he never shot anything at him.
He noticed Mr. Weasley getting overwhelmed by a third death eater that had apparated into the fight and he quickly shot a stunning spell at him. The other two noticed him and quickly ignored Mr. Weasley to go after him. Ah, shit.
Dark spells fired at him while Harry tried to keep cool and shot back stunning spells and defensive charms in between.
“We have the boy! We’ve got him!” Rabastan shouted for the others. Bellatrix cast an invisible tightening rope around Tonks who fell immobilized, cursing roughly.
“Not yet, you don’t,” Harry grumbled. He shot a leech spell at Rodolphus's nose. If he was gonna be killed might as well have some fun with it. He cried out, clutching his nose as leeches just kept sprouting from his nostrils.
“Crucio!” Bellatrix had shot while running up only to miss due to a numbing spell shot at her wrist, making it difficult even to hold her wand. She shrilled curses.
Rabastan was still on Harry’s ass. “Conjunctivitis!” Rabastan groaned rubbing his eyes. Harry had temporarily blinded him as he sprinted away. He found Remus being bombarded by the Malfoys.
“Hey, weasel!” He tried to pull away Draco’s attention to ease the attack on Remus.
Draco growled. “Potter.” He spat out his name as he always did, except Harry felt as though his anger was more thorough this time. Logically, of course, he was angry at Harry, most everyone was and should be, but what had he done this time? Meaning, what specifically. Harry ran into an old, dusty witch shop that he had the sneaking suspicion muggles couldn’t see. He tried to hide behind shelves, noticing that this was a particular dark store full of dark magic. Draco chased after him.
“Get the boy, Draco! The Dark Lord will be pleased with us!” Malfoy shouted then yelped when Remus shot a ‘Tarantallegra’.
Draco glared at Harry. “Confringo!”
“Protego!”
“Expulso!”
“Aguamenti!”
Haha. Draco seemed infuriated. Very wet, but still very angry. They went back and forth for a while, the rest fighting each other from interfering. They had shattered the windows and knocked over shelves, sending evil trinkets and black market items flying.
“Hurry it up, Draco!”
“Expelliarmus!” God fucking dammit. How dare he use his trademark. Draco smirked, catching Harry’s wand in his left hand, and pointing at Harry’s chest. Both Deatheaters and Order members watched with bated breath, none daring to move in case the other chose to make a move.
“Oh, finish him already!” Bellatrix yelled at her nephew, yet neither he nor Harry moved. A wave of clarity rolled through the shorter boy. Would it be so bad if this was it? Why was he fighting? He let his face relax as he faced Draco. He breathed. He let his hands down by his sides.
The Order watched in shock, wide-eyed and yelling. “Harry, no!”
The Deatheaters cackled and cheered. “Draco, he’s given up! Get him!”
Draco had his eyebrows furrowed, confusion and thoughts storming behind those silver eyes. Harry wouldn’t mind if the pale grey was the last color he ever saw. He gripped his wand tightly, knuckles turning white.
“It’s ok.” Harry was tired. He just wanted to be with his family.
Draco searched Harry’s face for any underhanded intentions or meaning. “What?”
“It’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Now quit being a weasel and do it.” Why was he giving up? Draco couldn’t bring himself to move. They were all shouting at them. Why couldn’t he get on with it? And why wouldn’t stupid Potter just fight him? Was this idiot asking to get killed?
Harry was frustrated. Why can’t this Deatheater just do what he was gonna do anyway? He supposed they were taking too long because, within the chaos, someone had sent an orange light flying at them. Who it was supposed to hit was unclear, as well as which side shot it. All of a sudden more shots followed as they began fighting again trying to get to them but it didn’t matter because the first spell had knocked over a tall shelf of black market time turners. Both boys looked at each other as a swirl of gold swooped them up and the scene they had just been in became a blur. Harry felt lightheaded as Draco grabbed him by his arm so he wouldn’t get pulled away. Who knows if they’d land in the same place if he didn’t drag him with him? The last thing they’d need was to be alone in a potentially dangerous place.
“Goddamit, Potter!” Harry was coming in and out of consciousness. The last thing he saw was Remus desperately trying to reach him before a wave of glittering sand took him away. Was he dying? It was a lot louder than he thought it’d be. It felt like a rush of static TV against his eardrums. Then, there was a clearing. He was falling, falling from the sky, it was a clear blue with a beautiful view of Hogwarts. He smiled, then closed his eyes.
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Third person, Draco’s POV
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Draco Malfoy was falling through the fucking sky.
As soon as he realized he was fucking falling with an unconscious Harry Potter, the realization that they’d eventually hit the ground came fairly quickly. Thinking fast, he cast a cushion charm and pulled the prat to his chest so he wouldn’t snap his damn neck. Only holding him did Draco realize how bony he was. Even his face close up looked gaunt and bruised. They landed with an ‘umph’. They landed in a pretty field of daisies. Draco didn’t remember there ever being daisies there but he had more important things to attend to.
“Of course, you’d faint like a princess and make me do all the work,” Draco grumbled, still holding on to both of their wands. He rolled off of him, panting on the grass next to him. His father was going to kill him when he got back. Even worse, what would The Dark Lord do to him when he came back without Potter? And how was he supposed to get the green-eyed boy away? He rubbed his forearm in frustration. His dark mark always felt sore after a lot of magic.
The faint smell of something metallic pulled him away from his thoughts. He glanced over at Potter. Shit, he was bleeding all over the white petals. Had he gotten hurt? He leaned over to pull away his sleeves, his already pale face going a sick white. What the fuck? There were harsh, precise lines upon lines of cuts across his wrists that had been forced open. Draco ripped off his sleeves and wrapped them around the bleeding areas as makeshift bandages. It’ll have to do. Draco was a little bruised and scathed himself. He needed to get them to the hospital wing. He had to get this idiot's help. Why would Potter do that? Draco knew all too well how ugly self-harm was, as an upper-class Slytherin, there were always cases of younger Slytherins who came from violent pureblood households. Slytherins had to stick together, none of the other houses liked them and they were always on guard. But why would the wizarding world’s golden boy self-harm? Everyone loved him. He was popular, charismatic, attractive, talented, famous, and important. If he had a dime for every time his face was in the Daily Prophet, he’d own Gringotts. Maybe attention? But by the looks of it, he hadn’t told anyone for a very long time, some of the scars under the others were faded and old.
“Shit.” Draco groaned as he got up, his leg hurting from their landing. Even a cushion charm couldn’t completely guard them from a dead drop from the sky. He had to find someone to help. Where was everyone anyway? ‘Safest place in the wizarding world’ his ass. A death eater and an unconscious body had just somehow dropped into Hogwarts and not a soul had yet to notice. He thought about yelling for help but quickly decided against it. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to have people find a Deatheater looming over a bloodied Harry Potter. He’d be in Azkaban faster than you can say ‘Eat my ass’. He’d have to get inside without causing a commotion and find Snape. He’d help him.
He looked down at the short boy’s limp body and frowned. “Fine, you pampered prat, I’ll drag your ass in.” He picked him up fairly easily, he was way too light. Draco took mental notes of all the odd things he’d been suddenly discovering about Harry Potter. He carried him on his back into the great halls of Hogwarts. If anyone saw them, they’d probably be worried. Good thing the castle should be empty other than the main staff since the school year had yet to start.
He navigated through the halls until he found where Snape’s chamber was. He knocked urgently although thoroughly surprised when a younger-looking Professor McGonagall opened the door. She looked incredulous.
“Malfoy!? Potter? But- How are you here- Why- What Happened?” She had her lips pursed in seriousness. “We have to get Albus.”
Draco had been taken off guard. “Professor? Why’re you in Snape’s chamber? It’s a long story but we need Snape to help us, I don’t know how we got here but this prat has been passed out since we got here and he’s bleeding an awful lot-” He processed what she said. What did she mean by ‘Albus’? Surely she must know he. . .
“Mr. Lucius, calm yourself, Severus isn’t at the castle due to it not yet being September 1st and neither should either of you! Dear lord, what’s happened to James? I swear I’ll have the both of you expelled if you’ve done this to each other-”
What was she talking about? “Professor, are you feeling quite alright? Who the bloody hell is James? And my dad’s not around if that’s what you mean. And we did fight but that’s not what you think-” Suddenly a voice he knew all too well made his heart drop.
“I thought I felt unrest in my school.” Draco slowly turned around with heavy feet to see a very much alive Albus fucking Dumbledore. He was sure he looked very pale. What the fuck was going on. “What’s the dilemma, Minerva?”
“I’ve yet to figure that out myself, Albus! Malfoy here showed up at my door with Potter asking to see Mr. Snape but-”
“How are you here?” Draco’s voice felt very dry.
“Why I do happen to be the headmaster at this fine establishment,” Dumbledore had a curious look in his twinkling blue eyes. “Who are you?”
Draco was sure this was one of those odd things Dumbledore said that was supposed to have a deeper meaning or something but he really wasn’t up for mind games right now. “Draco Malfoy, sir.” This was all probably a dream, an awful dream that would go away when he woke up.
“I see. I do believe there’s been some confusion. What may be your relations to Lucius Malfoy?” Draco glanced back at McGonagall for help but she seemed equally as baffled.
“Are you both alright? My dad, he’s my dad but you can’t call him now, they’ll have Potter and I was under the assumption that everyone went out of their way to keep this idiot alive.” Sigh, sarcasm never dies.
He shared a look with McGonagall then back at the dirtied and bruised boys in front of him. “My boy, what year do you believe it to be?”
What? Why were they treating him like he was crazy? Have they lost their minds, this was Harry freaking Potter bleeding out on his back here! “1997? Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but he’s really hurt and they’re after him and they’ll probably figure out where we’ve gone any minute-”
“I don’t believe whoever you're running from will find you here. I believe whatever the previous events before you landed here had sent you 20 years back into the past. It is currently July 31st, 1977.”
Draco’s mind reeled. Well, fuck. That explained a whole lot. Dumbledore was kind to him. He didn’t know what he’d done, what he’d become. “1977?” He repeated, letting this sink in.
“Let us take this conversation up to the Hospital Wing, that miniature Potter doesn’t look very well.” That was a lie, stupid Potter always looked good. But, he knew what he meant. He nodded, following up the tower with Potter in tow, flanked by Professor McGonagall.
“Poppy? Are you here? I’ve two guests who need to be cared for if you’d be so kind.” Dumbledore called and Draco’s jaw almost dropped at how, for lack of a better word, hot Madame Pomfrey was. She looked a lot younger. She looked to be in her early thirties.
“Very well, Albus.” She looked at the two boys and gasped and glared at Dumbledore disapprovingly. “Good heavens! Albus what in the world!” She led Draco to lay Harry on a white cot, although it quickly stained red.
“Evanesco.” Draco’s sleeve/bandages poofed away as she gasped and sighed in sadness. “Albus! Minerva! Poor boy. . .” Anyone with half a brain could see these were intentional.
McGonagall gasped and Dumbledore’s face creased in empathy. “This is James’s boy?” The cat shape-shifter could hardly believe it. Draco nodded, feeling awkward. He became hyper-aware that his wrists were also quite visible. His dark mark could be seen vividly if they noticed.
“While Madame Pomfrey does her magic, may we discuss the nature of this situation?” Albus gestured for him to sit on another bed next to Potters’. “If you are Lucius’ boy and- I’m sorry what’s his name?”
Draco swallowed thickly, watching Harry from afar as his face seemed tight, even when asleep. “Harry. Harry Potter.”
“Ah, I assume the son of James Potter. How old are you two?”
“17.” He could hardly believe he was here, sitting with Albus Dumbledore.
“Could you please elaborate on the nature of your situation?”
“We- It’s kind of a big thing, Potter kills The Dark Lord when he was a bloody baby, but not really, so he’s famous and shit but I suppose his mum and dad died so I think he got sent away to live with muggles? I’m not sure, His Uncle and Aunt, I think, so while The Order was getting him for Hogwarts we- Deatheaters attacked and next thing we know, we’re falling through the sky.”
Dumbledore hummed at the information. “What was your part in this?”
Draco spoke so quietly he scarcely thought he had been heard. “My father’s a Deatheater.”
“And you?”
Against his better judgment, he looked up and met those kind blue eyes and the waterworks burst. So much pent-up remorse and regret came pouring out. “I’m sorry,” He breathed out. With trembling hands, Draco showed him his dark mark. “I’m so sorry.” Dumbledore wouldn’t know how much Draco truly had to be sorry for.
“It’s alright. I understand at times the circumstances of our actions are difficult. I’m sure your version of me had long ago forgiven you.” Dumbledore smiled. He’d never know how much those words hit Draco.
“If I may ask, are my parents Deatheaters yet?” Draco sniffed, trying to collect himself. Often, people in his day and age forgot they were just children, not soldiers.
“I’m unsure.” Dumbledore offered regretfully. Draco nodded. Pomfrey closed Harry’s curtain before approaching them with a solemn-looking McGonagall.
“Good news, I hope?” Albus questioned.
“I’m afraid very little.” Minerva’s Scottish accent spoke softly.
“I’ve healed up his cuts, although there will be scars, among other things, I’ve put him on a nutrition medication. My scans detect severe malnourishment in the boy. Albus, some bruises and scars look a lot like domestic abuse. His lungs are damaged from cleaning chemicals and drug intake and a puncture wound on the left lung that looks like it might’ve been from a broken rib left unattended. There are certain specific bruises in certain places that lead me to believe that there might have been a sexual abuse case within at least the past month. These are the main injuries among other minor things.”
Draco’s world felt like it had been flipped. Nothing made sense and everything was the opposite. Harry Potter was a druggie, sexually and physically abused, and not to mention suicidal, Albus Dumbledore was alive and everything he thought he knew about the famous golden boy was shit. McGonagall’s eyes were watery as well as Dumbledore’s. Draco never knew. . .
“Dear Lord. . .”
“It seems this boy has gone more than reasonable. Do you believe he’ll come to soon, Poppy?”
“Well, some of this medicine will have him asleep for a good long while but he should come around perhaps before dinner.” Draco didn’t realize how hungry he was until she had mentioned it. His stomach growled and he flushed in embarrassment.
McGonagall had smiled at him softly. “I’ll send some house-elf up with some food in the meantime.” Draco was grateful.
“Minerva and I have to go make arrangements for this new situation but you’ll be in good hands with Madame Pomfrey. I’ll return around 6.” Draco nodded, watching them go. This was all so bizarre. Just moments ago he was fighting for his life and now he was stuck 20 years in the past with his suicidal nemesis. He sat at the side of Potter’s bed since there wasn’t much else he could do. He just wished the twit would wake up so they could fix this.
A house elf appeared after a few minutes with a hot bowl of macaroni and cheese a side of salad and garlic bread with a pitcher of pumpkin juice. Draco thanked him promptly before he snapped away and dug in. As a pureblood heir, he had always taught proper etiquette but he was so tired and hungry that he couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. He shoved away some pill bottles and medicines to settle the tray on the side table next to Potter. There was a vase with daisies in it although they looked a little weepy. He idly made them bright and fresh again with a simple rejuvenation charm. They were pretty.
As time went by, the house elf had come by to take away Draco’s dishes and he messed around by conjuring stuff to keep himself entertained. Around 5;30 ish, the Gryffindor stirred.
His head popped up sharply, gasping and frantically searching the room before his eyes fell on Draco. His eyes widened and patted around for his wand and glasses. He supposed that boy was always in fight or flight mode. “Relax, we’re in the Hospital Wing.” He tossed him his wand to calm him. He took it still looking wary.
“How’d we get here? Where’s everyone?” Harry found his busted-looking glasses on the side stand and looked around the room as if they’d be hiding behind cots or something. Dumbass.
“Quit being retarded and be helpful. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I remember dying but I suppose I’ve been sent to hell if I’m stuck here with you for the rest of eternity.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Oh come off it, we’ve got real shit to deal with right now if you’ll quit being useless.” He saw Harry’s face falter but he nodded and looked down, his messy hair swooping over his eyes.
“We were fighting and then someone broke a ton of time turners and then we were being pulled.” He mumbled.
“Yeah well one of your idiots from your side got us sent back to 20 years ago-”
“Hey, how do you know it was from my side!-”
“-And now we’re stuck here in 1977!”
“Oh.“ then it seemed to dawn upon him the reality of their situation. “OH”
“Yeah,’ oh’,” Draco mocked.
“My parents were at Hogwarts in 1977.” The hospitalized boy realized.
“Yeah, mine too.” Draco frowned.
“We should stick together, we should be Gryffindors.”
“LIKE HELL I AM!” Draco cried out incredulously. He could think of nothing worse than becoming one of those muggle-loving, obnoxiously red, annoying, disgusting Gryffindors.
“Must you always make things difficult?” The Gryffindor groaned.
“We can be in Slytherin but there’s no way I’ll ever be a bloody Gryffindor!”
“No kidding.” Potter rolled his eyes. “Could you get over your egotistical tantrum for like 2 seconds and just listen? I’ve never even met my parents and if we’re in Slytherin they’ll never talk to me. Please, this is all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Fine, then you can go to your mummy and daddy and I’ll go to Slytherin!”
“Malfoy, it’ll be harder to keep our stories straight if we aren’t together! Ugh, never mind, why’d I think you’d understand.” He grumbled. “We can just go to Slytherin with your parents along with everyone else who wants to fucking kill me.”
Draco paused. He didn’t want to be with his father. He debated this back and forth in his mind. Ugh, but red was so not his color. “Fine! If you’re gonna fucking whine about it we can be bloody Gryffindors.” He sneered yet the other boy’s green eyes lit up. His smile was so bright he almost reminded him of those daisies. Draco turned away, he wouldn’t let that daisy smile deceive him.
“Thanks, weasel.” Although there was no jab in his words.
“Whatever, Pot Head.” Potter laughed and it felt like flowers blew through his chest. His joy was contagious and Draco couldn’t help but let out a snort too.
“Wonder what’s going on the other end? D’you think they’re worried?”
“For you, probably. They just lost their favorite mascot,” Potter glared at him. “And my dad’s just worried about his own ass getting punished for losing you.” Draco rolled his eyes.
“You don’t think they’re trying to find you, too?”
“Why would they? I’m dispensable to The Dark Lord, why else would he send me on a suicide mission to ‘prove myself’.” They both knew he had meant what had happened last year, with Dumbledore. “Besides, I know plenty who wouldn’t mind if I was gone.”
“I know the feeling.”
Draco scoffed. “Do you know?”
Potter bit his lip. “You know my family hates me, everyone who doesn’t hate me is dead, half of the war is praying on my downfall and the ministry wishes I’d just shut up. So, you know, maybe a little bit.”
“Wizards are so bloody weird. You kick some psychopath’s ass before you can even eat solids and then disown you when it’s inconvenient. It’s mad. No matter what anyone does, it’ll always be wrong.”
“You know what helps?”
“What?”
“Nic.” Potter grinned mischievously. Draco rolled his eyes.
“You know that’s goat piss, right?”
“One man’s piss is another man’s treasure.”
“You’re so retarded.” Draco never knew that being friendly-ish with Harry Potter was kind of funny. “That shit kills you.”
“I’m a war hero at 17, most everything tries to kill me.” He gave the blonde boy a lopsided smile.
“I might try to kill you one of these days.” Draco pretended to get a migraine dramatically.
Potter seemed to be thinking extremely hard although Draco knew he was just being theatrical. “I might let you.”
“Why did you let me?” Draco had been wondering why the boy had given up so easily. He was supposed to fight, he was supposed to be the hero in the end. “Why’d you give up?”
“Why fight?” Harry tried to keep his voice light-hearted but there was a distressed look in his eyes. “I mean, I’d probably die eventually, why try so hard to run?”
“Because you’re Harry fucking Potter, you twat.”
“What does that even mean? I’m some kid with no parents that happened to be born in July. People think I’m some wizard savior or something and I’m just failing potions with a dying vape.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because you didn’t kill me.” Potter locked eyes with Draco. Just then, the clock struck exactly 6, and Albus Dumbledore strolled through the door. Potter’s eyes went wide.
“I see you’re both fully awake now, feeling better Mr. Potter?” He peered over his half-moon glasses. Harry stared in disbelief before nodding stiffly.
“I know this whole ordeal must come as quite a shock, but we do have to address some things to move forward in action. I’m Headmaster Albus Dumbledore but I suppose you know me more than I know you,” He smiled “Although I must know, what is my current favorite candy?”
“I believe it’s lemon drops, sir.”
“Ah good, I was growing tired of my strawberry taffy.” He smiled. Dumbledore was so weird. “Now I unfortunately don’t yet know how to send you back so in the meantime I believe it best if you continue your schooling for this year. Of course, you’ll need new names and stories.”
“Can we be in Gryffindor, sir?” Harry’s face was so hopeful. Draco suppressed a sneer.
“I assume you know very well that your parents are in that house and I need not remind you to not share any information that may compromise the future?” Potter looked like a delighted first year. “Good, now, Harry is a rather common name so I think it’ll be alright if you keep that but we do need a surname.”
Potter vaguely remembered an old friend from his primary school days. His name was Thomas Elphric he believed. That boy had been his bisexual awakening. “Harry Elphric? Is that alright?” Draco gave him an odd look. How had he thought of such a random name so quickly?
“Mr. Malfoy, both your first and surname are too specific to the Malfoy family so they both have to be changed. It’s best if we claim you both as half-bloods, easier storyline, purebloods would be too easy to trace back and figure out as a lie, and muggle-borns are facing too much prejudice these days and it’s best if we keep you out of trouble.”
Draco thought for a moment. He didn’t know many muggle names but he remembered a book he found at his great great great great second uncle twice removed, he faintly recalled his face being blasted off the black tapestry for being a muggle lover. He was very young when he found a blue book called ‘Wonder’ and didn’t realize it was a muggle book. Most of it didn’t make sense due to it having muggle references but he remembered resounding with a character, Julian Alban. “Julian Alban, sir.”
“Very good, alright now Harry, your mother had been a half-blood witch named Jane Runcorn who had then gotten married to a muggle man named Matthew Elphric. Draco, your mother was a muggle-born witch named Caroline Gastrell who married half-blood Daniel Alban. You’re both childhood friends from Bristol who were homeschooled due to your parents' fear of the war but your town was recently attacked by death eaters and they sent you here to be safe. Yes?” Dumbledore seemed to have this all thought out. Draco nodded taking notes in his head that he’d probably study over later while Potter looked slightly puzzled but nodded anyway. Draco rolled his eyes.
“The two of you have an astonishing resemblance to your parents so I think it’d be wise if we modify your faces to lessen confusion.” They both agreed, one more happy than the other. Draco groaned at the thought of changing his perfect hair and face while Potter couldn’t wait. He hated his face anyway, maybe that’ll fix it a bit. After Dumbledore had mumbled spells here and there, teaching them along the way how to redo them in case the charms fell. When he was done he transfigured a quill into a mirror and Draco’s jaw dropped. What. The. Fuck. Draco’s hair was now a sandy blonde with defined curls, brown eyes, and soft cheekbones. The difference wasn’t a lot but he could hardly recognize himself if it wasn’t for his iconic sneer. Harry looked equally shocked. His hair hadn’t changed in texture but it was a light brown and it was a little longer than it normally was, clinging messily around neck, and bright blue eyes. Draco found himself oddly disappointed.
Dumbledore chuckled. “The two of you have a month to get used to your new faces, and whenever Madame Pomfrey lets you go you may take your things up to Gryffindor Tower,” Draco still felt a tinge of horror every time it was mentioned that he would soon adorn that obnoxious red. “And Happy Birthday, Harry.”
“How did you-?”
“As gifted of an occlumens as you are, which in itself came as quite a surprise, you were tired enough to release little information.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. Draco hadn’t known Potter had known occlumency, he was learning many things about that boy today. Potter didn’t know what to think of the fact that Dumbledore had tried to pick around his brain. Dumbledore dismissed himself and the exhausted boys crashed down on their cots.
“I don’t think it’s really my birthday anyway if I technically haven’t even been born yet.”
“Well, your Harry Elphric had to have been born at some point.”
He snorted. “How can a fake boy have a birthday?”
“Same way a daisy grows petals. They had to have been blown into existence at some point.”
“Spoken like a true Ravenclaw.”
“Oh, hop off!” Draco shoved a pillow at him, laughing.
They both drifted off to sleep, safe in the Hospital Wing but it had felt like a breeze of freedom blew through Draco. Away from his parents, away from the Dark Lord, away from his life. He was free. He could turn back the clock on a dying daisy, he could turn back time on his life.
‘If only the daisies wouldn’t deceive me.’
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Word Count: 5,677
Finished Date: December 4th, 2023, Monday, 7:00 pm
YES! So, this felt a lot easier to write, which is why it’s longer than normal. I know I write a lot of filler and it feels like I’m wasting time but PLEASE BARE WITH ME! I’d honestly make this chapter a lot longer if I didn’t cut myself off, so writing the next chapter as we speak! I love comments and hearing from you guys so please comment! Please correct me if something doesn’t make sense, I tried doing a lot of research to make the Marauders era accurate. Do we like the flower theme? Idk I just like having something to connect everything. Also, high school is kinda kicking my ass right now.