The Butterfly Effect

Draco was dreaming again. Dreaming of things that didn’t quite make sense and feelings he couldn’t quite control. The effect had him sitting up in bed, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. As he moped a shaky hand to his forehead, he wondered when these strange occurrences would stop. It had been months since he’d returned to Hogwarts and yet he couldn’t shake them.

Potter, Potter, Potter. The Chosen One insisted on tormenting his dreams and more often than not, his reality. Potter, the barmy idiot, was always lingering around watching him with those disgustingly beautiful eyes. The other two were no better, they rarely ever antagonised him anymore. Granger always looked on the verge of tears and Weasley went red faced and splotchy when they glimpsed one another in the hallways or in class. He even got a stilted nod or two that he chose to ignore. It was one thing befriending them to spy for his father and another thing entirely to actually want to befriend them. And want he did. He longed for Potter's warm stability, for Hermione's no nonsense attitude and fierce righteous and even loudmouthed Weasley and his unflinching loyalty.

Reality was never as bad as the dreams though. Draco dreamt of studying with that insufferable Granger and playing chess with Weasley without any ill intentions or hidden agendas. He dreamt of lips tasting of treacle tarts and hands lingering on his own. The most unlikely of all circumstances and yet. Yet, it all felt so real in these dreams. So true. 

Draco was not sure what he believed anymore. Did he or didn't he ? Had he actually been friends with them or had it been an act ? It was as if something had been hollowed out within him but he couldn't for the life of him reach it again. Pansy and Blaise were adamant that it had been real, and refused to believe Draco's insistence that it had all been a ploy. Everywhere he looked, something made Draco's head spin with confusion. Had he really let his feelings best him so much?

Still it did not do to dwell on things that were ineffably strange. So he shook off his dreams and forced himself to the bathroom to prepare for the day. It was satisfying taking his mandated hour to wash everything away and put on his robes, an armour of sorts. 

Theo was stationed outside his dormitory door as he was every single morning, tapping his wand against the fabric of his robe. Draco offered him a wan, tired smile and the boy tried to return the effort.

It was funny how quickly the two of them had become so close. Sure, they spoken before and played a games of Exploding Snap with each other but now he was almost as close to the dark haired boy as he was to Pansy or Zabini. Nott was, despite his horrid upbringing, a stellar guy and Draco supposed he saw much of himself reflected in his friend. They were both forced into circumstances and opinions, they did not entirely agree with. They both had Marks on their hands that told the world just how evil and twisted they really were.

“How many ?” he asked, as he always did every morning.

“About five hours,” Draco said as he did the calculation in his head. He’d fallen asleep around one in the morning and had gotten a pretty decent rest, dreams withstanding. “You ?”

“Two, maybe three.” A wolfish grin and shrug.

Draco made a show of rolling his eyes as he rummaged in his robes for a pack of sugar quills which he handed over to a smirking Nott, “I’ll have you beat yet.”

About a month into their friendship, he’d noticed just how little the other boy ate and he’d devised a wickedly clever competition along with Pansy to tempt Nott into eating. Every competition lost had to be paid in sweets or pastries or fruits. Those little defeats they suffered were just adding up to a huge unknown tally that stood between Theo and starvation.

“Last night in our hurry to avoid the prefects, I realised I’d forgotten some of our notes in the bathroom. I wanted to sneak out to find them but I figured they’d be safe enough, considering no one goes to that bathroom much. Better them being discovered by some nosy student than being caught by Flinch in the dead of the night with them. This way we have plausible deniability,” Theo relayed, panic hidden by a snort of derision as he pulled open the bag of sweets and stuck one into his mouth. He offered the bag to Draco. “Come with me to find them ?”

“Just how I wanted to spend my morning stuck in the girl's bathroom with you pouring over the notes to complete a task for an egomaniac,” Draco answered as sarcastically around a mouthful of sugar. He received a shove for his efforts.

So they went half bickering, half filled with dread up to the bathrooms. Once or twice Draco could’ve sworn he caught a glimpse of silvery fabric from the corner of his eyes but he shoved it down to mere hysteria. Those notes were pretty damning, most of them half thought out plans or equations on how to kill their Headmaster or fix that insufferable cabinet in the Room of Requirement. It had been stupid to even write any of it down in the first place but things had needed working out and so inked quill and parchment it had been. 

Draco felt guilty even thinking about having to commit these crimes but he knew they’d be tortured or killed if they failed. He was not the hero of this story, he was selfish and he intended to do what needed to be done if that meant that he and the ones he loved stayed safe. War was not the time to have Gryffindor-esque morals.

When they arrived at the bathroom, the fate that awaited them was somehow worst and better than what they’d anticipated. Myrtle had chosen the fourth floor bathroom as one of her haunts and it had flooded as a result of one of her crying sessions. Their notes were a pile of twisted, sodden parchments on the floor. Nearly six months of hard work, of late nights and panic attacks for it to end up here.

They were so screwed. There wasn't a measure for how screwed they were. 

Theo took one look at it and burst into tears. It was silent tears, he barely made a sound, barely moved but the desperation in them were stark. Draco knocked back by his own wave of anguish, did not know what to do save for catching the boy into his arms and pulling him in for a hug. Theo pressed his face into Draco’s neck, hot tears splashing at his collar.

“He’s going to kill me,” he whispered, voice guttural.

“No.” Draco whispered back even though he knew he could not speak for the Dark Lord. He was mercurial at best and downright malicious at worst. Draco had been dealt with both sides in spades.

“It’s different for you,” the other boy continued as his fingers bunched into Draco’s shirt, “your father is practically financing the whole war and Bellatrix is his most trusted follower. My father got caught, twice and now I've gone and fucked up our only hope. The Notts don’t make for very good agents of the dark. He’ll kill me to get back at my father and to make an example." 

“He won’t. We’ll begin again,” Draco assured him and he squeezed him tighter to himself because just the thought of bright, sinfully awful Theodore Nott being killed by the Dark Lord was terrible, “we are not just giving up. I’m not letting either of us die. That's a promise, Theo." 

“Draco, I've wanted to tell you something, something horrible. The most egregious sin really, my father says, and you’ll probably hate me for it but I have to tell you. I need to tell someone, it feels like I'm being buried alive —” Theo lifted his head from his shoulder and Draco watched as his face went from a panicked, sad mess to hardened steel. “What the fuck are you doing here ?”

Draco’s gaze shot to the mirror and there in stark contrast behind them was Harry Potter, clutching onto a fucking invisibility cloak, looking pinched and pale. He’d known someone was following them! He had! Draco wondered how much he had heard and wondered how much would incriminate them. 

Would anyone believe Potter ? Of course, they would, he was the certified golden boy of the Ministry and Hogwarts. 

The idiot’s mouth opened and that’s when Draco noticed he was clutching onto his wand. Theo noticed it at pretty much the same time, eyes flaring with rage and a subtler undertone of terror. He was whipping away from Draco in a flash, pulling out his own wand to send a swift hex at the Chosen One's head. 

“Don’t—” Draco began but he was too late and Potter ducked as a blasting curse neatly took out half a cubicle door narrowly missing his head. Wood and plaster rained down at them. It was silent for a beat or two and he decided to chance it. 

"Theo—" but his friend was already whipping his wand again. 

It was a whir of activity then, Theo attacking while Potter tried to evade these attacks. The wall was blasted away and a sink was promptly exploded adding to the flood of water that was already coating the bathroom floor. Moaning Myrtle chose to make her presence known, shrieking bloody murder all the while as the boys fought. An utter madhouse.

Draco had no choice but to join the fray, trying to keep Theo safe and for a reason he would never acknowledge, Potter. A shield here, a tripping hex there to make their aims harmless. He'd never guessed it but here he was trying to be mediator for the first time ever in a fight with Potter. Perhaps his spying had changed something fundamental in his bones.

It seemed as if the fight was winding itself down when Theo realised that for all of his hexes and curses, Potter had done nothing but counteract with defence, never firing at either of them. It was one thing to duel but another thing to duel someone who wanted no part in said duel. 

“Theo,” Draco tried for the third time, wand still outstretched and trained on the middle ground between the two dark haired boys, because try as he might Draco couldn't point it at either of them, “back down and we leave. We absolutely can’t add harming Potter, to our growing list of various worries." 

Theo looked as if he would’ve, but something perhaps it was the way Potter’s face turned towards Draco and softened into the saddest, most angelic smile he’d ever seen or perhaps it was the way Draco had gasped at the odd look, or perhaps it was Myrtle cooing “Lovebirds” that did it. But Theo’s wand was up again and he was saying, “Crucio!”

And then Potter was yelling, “Sectumsempra!” and Draco was leaping into the middle of the two boys to take the crux of the curse.

It was as if he’d been flayed alive, which in retrospect, he had. Pain unlike anything he’d ever felt, had his knees crumbling beneath him and he landed in the water with a splash. His gaze went blurry and unfocused, but even so he could make out the vague outlines of Potter collapsing to his knees and scrambling towards him and Theo stood dead still in the room.

“Draco ?! Draco ?!!” Potter’s hands came away bloody from his chest and up close, Draco could see the other boy pale even more. He looked on the verge of passing out, a gratifying look on the saviour and had Draco not been losing his mind in agony he would have smirked, “Theo! Get Snape or Dumbledore, or anyone! Hurry!" 

It was testament to how scared Theo was because he obeyed without a single word of protest. He just turned and ran, hounded by the sound of Moaning Myrtle’s shouts.

“That’s what you get for following me, hotshot,” Draco managed to get out through a constricted breath. He was dimly aware that he was calling Potter hot but decided to chalk it down to blood loss. "Now you've gone and maimed me." 

“I would never,” Potter choked out and belatedly Draco realised he was crying. Big, gulping sobs unlike the silent tears of Nott, “I never... please. I would never. Draco, I didn’t—”

“All’s fair in love and war,” again if Draco had been in his right mind, he’d never have said such words. He wanted to soothe Potter, take away those tears even though he could barely move. He had really gone and fallen for the enemy like an utter fool. Merlin, the Dark Lord would kill if he didn't die in this dingy bathroom. "Who would've thought, the great Harry Potter, crying over lowlife Draco Malfoy ?" 

"No, not lowlife." 

Potter’s hand was on his cheek and the look on his face was devastatingly similar to the dreams where Draco was kissed senseless by the Chosen One. It had his pulse stuttering even now, half gone. 

"We have to do it," Draco managed to get out, "I don't know what you heard but we have to do it. Tell on us if you want, but I refuse to let either myself or Theo be aftermaths of this war." 

"Do what you must." 

Then Potter was being pulled roughly away from him by a grim faced Snape. Or grimmer than usual. Potter put on a good fight, half yelling, half reaching for Draco but Snape was strong and not to be trifled with. He said a few quiet words that had the fight dying in Potter and Draco had one last stolen glimpse at the look on Potter’s face before a potion was pressed to his lips and pulled him under.

He had no idea that look would be one of the very last times he ever saw Potter, for what would be years to come.

~~~~~~

Time Lapse: after Dumbledore is killed and the hunt for Horcruxes begins.

Hermione found him at the top of the Astronomy Tower. His best friend always had the talent of finding him no matter how far he tried to run. Harry didn’t know whether to be grateful for it or resent it half of the time. He settled on grateful as she silently squeezed his arm and came to a stop beside him. She caught a glimpse of the locket in his grip and gently extracted it.

“No use worrying about that now, Harry. We’ll find the proper one and that’s that.”

The Headmaster had died and left them with more problems than anything else. Snape had been forced to kill in the name of spying and he’d forsaken Hogwarts, McGonagall, everything he knew to follow Dumbledore’s plan. A known traitor to everyone but Harry and his friends. Traitor he would stay, in order to help them.

Dumbledore had also left them with Horcruxes to hunt and no idea how to begin. He’d left Draco with more than a gaping hole. His death had freed the blonde’s memories but they hadn’t been placed back the same way they’d been taken out and so he’d been left with two alternating lifetimes in his mind. The Draco that was a Death Eater and the Draco that had chosen that path to help them.

To Harry, they were one and the same. Draco was a hero and fucking brave no matter how you framed it. He’d saved his loved ones in both timelines regardless, but it was harder for the blonde to correlate them. He seemed to be floundering trying to decide who he was and wasn’t. What was true and what wasn’t.

“He knows we’re leaving,” Hermione said into the stillness, breath misting out from her, “he wants to come along. He says there's nothing for him here at Hogwarts, Theo's gone off with Snape and the Death Eaters. If You- Know- Who gets hold of Draco, he'd kill him. Everyone else either hates or blames him for the Death Eaters in the school and Dumbledore's death despite not having the full story. Grimmauld is too depressing to go home to. Let him come along, Harry." 

“No.”

“He said to remind you of your promise. The one you made in the infirmary.”

Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “I also made a promise not to hurt him Hermione. He’s permanently scarred thanks to me and he doesn’t know who or what he is. He’s probably a very close second to me on Voldemort’s hit list. All that he’s suffered since he’s known me, is my fault. He's done all this to prove himself worthy, to helo this stupid fucking war, and all its done it mess him up beyond measure.”

“Half were his choices and the other half were as fate would have it. You’re no better than his father if you insist on making his choices for him.”

It stung more than Harry cared to admit but it would never waver his decision. He’d almost killed the man he’d loved, by whipping out a spell he knew nothing about. He would never ever endanger Draco again. Not at his hand. He’d stay as far away from him as he could so that Draco might have a semblance of peace.

Harry had managed to avoid him so far save for the mass gatherings at dinner time in the Great Hall with all of their friends present but it had been easy to slip in and out of conversations whenever Draco had tried to catch his attention. It had hurt like Hell seeing how anguished Draco was because he refused to speak to him but Harry felt that letting Draco be, was the only right decision he’d made so far. 

It was the only way he could guarantee his safety. 

“My choice has been made Hermione.”

“Then there’s nothing I can say, expect this,” She hesitated, as she wove the chain over in her hands, “Draco will never forgive you if you leave like this.”

“There’s already too much that he shouldn't forgive me for. A long, long list, Hermione." 

"He doesn't see it that way." 

"Well then," Harry broke off, swiped at an errant tear on his face. Ever since that fateful morning in the bathroom, he turned into something of a leaky faucet. Perhaps he and Myrtle could start a club. 

There was silence for a bit as they looked out at the Hogwarts grounds. It truly was the most beautiful place in the world. Ron finally lumbered upstairs when he figured that the awkward conversations were out of the way.

He gave Harry a solid pat on the back and a single assurance, “Ginny told me to tell you that she’ll look out for the sod. Neville too. Plus he's got his Slytherin cohorts, hexing anyone that comes too close to him." 

Harry smiled. They stood together long after the sun had set watching the grounds, all three of them knowing that they would not see Hogwarts for a long time to come.