Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Prologue
‘Now,’ said Bellatrix softly, as Draco hurried back with the wands, ‘Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you. The girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight.’
At the last word, there was a peculiar grinding noise from above. All of them looked upwards in time to see the crystal chandelier tremble; then, with a creak and an ominous jingling, it began to fall. Bellatrix was directly beneath it; dropping Hermione, she threw herself aside with a scream. The Chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains, falling on top of Hermione and the goblin, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor. Glittering shards of crystal flew in all directions; Draco doubled over, his hands covering his bloody face.
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It had been three days since the trio's dramatic escape from Malfoy Manor at the hands of their old house elf, Dobby. To say the Dark Lord was displeased would be a drastic understatement; aunt Bella and his father were still unconscious from the severe cruciatus the Dark Lord punished them with. Draco stayed to himself and tended to his wounds as best as he was able to. These last three days, he spent most of his time wandering the halls of his childhood, making sure never to get in anyone’s way. The events of that night would not stop replaying inside Draco’s mind; Potter’s deformed face, Weasley’s pleas’ to take Granger’s place, and Granger’s screams and contortions of pain on his drawing room floor.
It had been months since he last saw the bushy-haired girl; up until last year, she had been the bane of his existence. ‘She deserved it,’ he kept trying to convince himself; it was all in vain. Growing up, his father has revelled in the tales of how in the old days, mudbloods and muggles would be taunted and torn. They weren’t people but lesser beings that did not belong among purebred wizards. All these months among the Death Eaters and his cries of glee were not genuine. He was disgusted by the actions of those around him but knew better than express those emotions. You do what the Dark Lord approves of; that is how you survive.
Three days ago, however, he was unable to feign glee or do anything at all. Granger did not belong there. Surely she was smart enough to flee the country while she could? Obviously not. He should have known she would follow Potter to the ends of the world, but didn’t Potter know that her head was wanted almost as much as his? She did not belong in this war; she didn’t belong on his floor.
Hermione Granger. She had always been untouchable - the brain that kept the moronic duo from blowing themselves up. Hadn’t she known of all the muggle murders? Hadn’t she read the Profit when the Muggle Registration act was put in place? How could the brightest witch of their age be stupid enough to get caught? How could she have been lying motionless on the drawing room floor a mere three days ago? She had looked dead - and that terrified him. If he hadn’t been looking at her so intently, he would have believed she was if it were not for the faint rise and fall of her chest. Draco felt sick.
Dark red words seeped their way to the front of Draco’s mind. Mudblood, the word suddenly tasted bitter in his mouth. Hadn’t he been the one to use that word on Granger the most? There she was, lying motionless in front of him, branded like cattle. Why did that word no longer describe her? He had seen blood before; the blood of the lesser had been spread around Malfoy Manor for months now; something about hers made him stop in his tracks, however. Her blood didn’t look different; it was red like everyone else’s - including his own. If Hermione Granger’s blood - the embodiment of everything he was taught to hate - looked like his, what was he fighting for? He never had to question himself, and his beliefs before the noseless freak entered their lives. Everything he was taught benefited him, so why should he question it?
Every drastic measure he had taken had been more for self-preservation and the purity of wizard in blood. He wanted respect, sure, and power was always promised, but reality did not live up to his expectations. Wasn’t this war for the benefit of wizards like him? If so, why were he and his parents now forced into seclusion and shame? Why is one of the Dark Lord’s most dedicated followers punished by the man who claims to be on their side?
Draco did still believe that muggles and mud-muggle borns are less worthy; they have their world, leaving the magical one alone. Just something about Granger pulled the rug right from under him. Was she truly not worthy of her magic? He had never met anyone more dedicated, hardworking, and appreciative of their magic than her. Most who were born into this world took magic for granted, including himself.
Draco suddenly stopped, head throbbing with all the unwanted questions that had plagued his mind for the last three days. Looking back, did he truly believe all that, or did he just love the power that fear and superiority gave him? Everything was a game where he could only emerge as the victor. 6th year changed everything for him; nothing was a game anymore. Reality did not hold back and was still throwing everything it could at him. He was a winner and a pawn in a game where no one came out on top - except the Dark Lord. He was just a bottom-feeder searching for any scraps of justification for this war. Draco shook his head and continued walking.
Unwillingly, his thoughts drifted back to Granger. Gryffindor princess. The brightest witch of her age. She should have had the sense to leave; she had an out! But she stayed. Why would she stay when there was no hope for them to win this fight? Why would she stay when her head was almost as wanted as scar-head himself? He knew those three were joined at the hip, but how could her friends allow her to be brought down him them?
In his isolation, Draco had no way of receiving news beyond the grounds of Malfoy Manor. It was comforting in a terrifying sort of way. He could almost pretend there was no war, and his endless wandering was out of boredom, not punishment.
As he continued his meaningless journey, he passed his parent's quarters, where the door was left slightly ajar. He planned to ignore it, but a sound made him stop dead in his tracks. In all his years of living here, there had always been an unspoken rule in the Malfoy home. Never show emotion; emotions are a weakness - especially crying. One could sense his surprise as he heard the muffled sobs coming from within the room. As quietly as he could, Draco opened the door to see the image of his mother slumped on the floor at the foot of the bed. She was muttering between shaky breaths - words Draco could not make out. He began walking away as silently as possible to stay undetected.
Stunned, that is how Draco felt. His mother has never been anything but perfectly put together. Recently her features had looked more hollow and sunken, but she still stood proud. She may not have been the most outwardly affectionate mother in the world, but she showed him that she loved her in her own way. While at Hogwarts, she would write him weekly letters accompanied by more sweets than he could ever devour. Despite her words telling him to behave, he had always noticed a twinkle in her eyes when he regaled stories of his triumphs at school. Just as he had almost completely shut the door, he heard a sob and words that struck him.
‘I wish I could go back and change…’
He quickly fled as guilt washed over him. How often had he wished he could return and do things differently? How many mistakes could he undo that would spare his family from all this shame? What he wouldn’t do to have the second chance he did not deserve. With one last look at his broken mother, he turned and walked away with no destination in mind.
Is this all his life would become? If the Dark Lord wins, he will forever serve a man who will never respect his name. If potter wins, he will serve a life sentence in Azkaban for his contributions to the war. He no longer knew which would be the worst outcome. He didn’t know which option he deserved. There is no redemption for Draco Malfoy, not in this world.
Draco walked on and on until he soon found himself at the doors of his family library. Unlike the rest of the manor, the library remained untouched by the new residents. Due to said circumstances, it became a place Draco often frequented. Draco had always had to uphold his family name in various ways - including academically. He managed to become the top male student in his year, second in the class behind Granger. There is only so far studying will get you if you don’t enjoy reading.
He noted a small, insignificant-looking book as he wandered through the expansive isles of the Malfoy family collections. He had seen the little journal before during his many lonely sessions in the library but had never before given it as much as a second thought. As he turned it around in his hands, he wondered why a Malfoy would own a thing so ragged. Surely it must be of great value to keep a tattered thing such as this. After a few moments, curiosity got the better of him, and he opened it. Expecting to some fascinating information, he was rather surprised to find blank pages staring back at him.
‘Pathetic,’ he angrily muttered to himself, ‘No wonder it looks as though it has been untouched for ages. It’s rubbish.’
He placed the book back on the shelf and continued his search for something to pass the time.
Hours crept by slowly as the young Malfoy distracted himself with any mildly interesting book he could find. Hunger soon overcame him, and he begrudgingly left the safe refuge of the pages and headed to the kitchens. Before, Draco would have scoffed if anyone told him he would be eating with the house elves, but since the Death Eaters took residence, he found himself doing it more and more often, especially after being forced to watch the vile snake eat the old Muggle Studies professor.
Draco took his time at dinner; despite being famished, he never seemed to finish a meal anymore. When all he could do was play with the remainder of the food on his plate, he figured he might as well go to bed to repeat the day's events in the morning.
While making the trek up to his room, he passed his parent's quarters once more. Half expecting to hear the continued sobs of his mother, he found himself surprised again at what he heard instead. His parents were arguing; it was hushed and clearly meant to be unheard. He knew his parents fought; everyone did; he had just never witnessed it before. He couldn’t help the bone-aching curiosity that took him over; he stepped closer to the door but did not dare open it as he had done before. He could not make out any words but heard that both sides seemed to be mad and pleading with the other. He stepped away, unable to take another emotional blow that day.
Finally making it to bed, Draco promptly stripped his garments and crawled under the covers. As he drifted to sleep, he silently prayed for the mercy of a dreamless one; as always, he had no such luck. As per the last few nights, his dreams consisted of a certain bushy-haired brunette lying motionless on his drawing room floor.
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‘Draco. Draco, my love, wake up.'
With a sudden and slightly aggressive start, Draco woke up, wand outstretched.
‘Now Draco, no need to point your wand at me!’
‘Mother?’ He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, sure he was seeing things. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you here in the middle of the night?’
‘Please, Draco, we must hurry,’ she started to nudge him out of bed in an urgent manner.
‘Hurry for what? What is going on?’ Draco was starting to feel panic at his mother's rushed plea.
‘I promise I will explain everything soon, but we need to move right now!’ Narcissa urged as she made her way toward the door, ‘Oh, if there is anything of personal value to you - grab it'
Confusion overrode Draco’s panic as he instinctively reached for a silver chain on his bedside table. The piece of cold metal had a silver dragon with emerald green eyes wrapped around the thin, elegant chain. Just as the silhouette of his mother disappeared into the darkness of the hallway, Draco hurriedly dressed and followed his mother out the door.
Narcissa expertly maneuvered her way through the vast halls of Malfoy Manor; the only indication that she wasn’t alone was the muffled patter of Draco’s steps as he desperately tried to follow behind. What felt like an eternity later, Narcissa made a sudden stop and retrieved her wand from inside her robes.
‘Silencio,’ she whispered. Satisfied she had done the spell correctly, she quickly ushered Draco through the doors ahead. Once inside, she cast a final spell, ‘Humeno Revelio’ Nothing.
‘Mother, can you tell me what on Earth is going on?’ An exasperated Draco inquired from behind her.
‘Muffliato,’ She said with a wand pointed firmly at the entrance door. ‘Listen, Draco, I will explain soon. We just need to get a little further still.’
Grabbing hold of his hand, Narcissa led her son through rows of towering books until finally reaching a secluded corner of the Malfoy family library. ‘Here. Now listen carefully; I know you have questions, but you must listen’
More questions arose, but Draco knew better than to disobey his mother. Instead, he looked at her expectantly as we waited for her to continue.
‘Draco, dear. You must understand that there are dark times’ Understatement of the century, Draco thought. He remained silent.
‘We don’t have much time.’ She took a deep breath, ‘I tried. I really tried. All I have done is keep you safe but I don’t think I will be able to protect you anymore.’ Her voice was shaken; Draco might have seen her cry earlier, but he had never seen her show herself to be fragile, especially in front of others. ‘The Dark Lord, he is furious with your aunt and father. He is punishing them for letting Potter and his friends getaway. He…he is also furious at you, my son.’
With me? Draco thought. About last summer?
‘He saw both aunt Bella’s and your father's memory and your reluctance to confirm that it was them.’ Shit. ‘I am afraid your father is doing everything he can to stay tolerated by the Dark Lord. He offered you up for a mission.’
‘He what?!’ exclaimed Draco, not bothering to control his volume.
‘Shhhh!’ Narcissa said as she took a cautious glance toward the door. ‘The Dark Lord mentioned that he was in need of someone to join Greyback. He wants to create an army of werewolves to do his bidding…and your father offered his son. He offered you.’ Sorrow and anger engulfed her expression at the last sentence. Bile made its way up Draco’s throat with every word spoken.
How could he?! His own father.
‘I tried to convince your father otherwise. He refuses to listen to me. He says I am letting my womanly instinct cloud my judgment and that we should be focusing on the Dark Lord now.’ She looked down, ‘You know he hasn’t been the same since…since that place.’ Azkaban. ‘They are planning to fetch you at dawn so Greyback can…so he can change you.’
Draco’s heart felt like it was going a million kilometres an hour. How could his father do that to his own and only son?! Anger boiled through his veins. He turned away from his mother as he tried to calm himself down.
‘So that’s that,’ Draco said dejectedly, not wanting to believe it. ‘In the morning, I become a half-breed’
‘I am no longer able to protect you. Not here. But…’ Narcissa stepped in front of her son and forced him to look at her. ‘If you trust me, there is one last thing I can offer you. I cannot promise anything, but it is the best chance you’ve got to have a better life.’
‘Are you sending me away? As if it would be that simple, Mother!’ His mother was an intelligent woman; how could she suggest something so stupid? ‘It wouldn’t work, and you know it. No cross-country apparition is allowed, and all other forms of magical transportation are being heavily monitored. They would catch us before stepping off the grounds.’
‘Even if we weren’t caught, what could be more shameful to the Malfoy name than running away like cowards? It would be more disgrace to the Malfoy name tha-‘
‘Screw the Malfoy name!’ Draco was stunned. He looked at his mother as though she had three heads.
‘How could you even say that? Hasn’t everything I have been taught and everything I have done been for the honour of the Malfoy name?! You’re telling me NOW that it doesn’t matter?’ His anger toward his father was not beginning to be shared by his parents.
‘Draco. I am saying that there are more important things than a surname. I would rather you live as a dishonourable Malfoy than a dead one.’
‘Mother-’
“As I said earlier, everything I have done is what I thought would be best for you and your safety. We both know this war is nothing going the way it was promised, and although your father won’t see it, the Malfoy name will end with you. By the sounds of it, it will end soon.’
He could not believe what he was hearing.
‘I know where I stand in all this, my son. I have to live with my choices, but you should not have to live with my mistakes. There is still a chance for you to have something better than this.’
‘Mother. I told you; there is no future for me here; there is no second chance.
‘Not for your father or me, but for you, there still is. You still have the safe life I have always wanted for you-‘
‘Mum! Why do you keep saying that? Look around; safe is no longer possible in a magical world!’ Draco looked down and noticed an old tattered diary held tightly in his mother's hands. ‘What are you holding?’
‘Your second chance’ Narcissa held the diary for him to see and ran a delicate finger down the worn leather spine. ‘Please, take it.’
‘What?’ Alright, his mother has officially lost it.
‘This is an ancient heirloom from the Nobel House of Black. Its purpose was to help our family find true love-‘
‘No disrespect, but love is not something we should be concerning ourselves with at the moment.’
‘Don’t interrupt!’ Draco had never had his mother be curt with him before. ‘This book sends you back in time to the moment it would have been most prudent for you to find your true love.’
‘Are you listening now?’ He sure was. ‘This is your opportunity to have a second chance. But the is a catch. The diary will only work if you have already met your soulmate. Otherwise…’
‘I’ll die’ Draco did not need to let his mother finish her sentence.
‘I know it is a big risk, but you are delaying the same risk by staying here. I cannot force you; it is your choice if you want to try.’ Narcissa placed a loving hand on his face. He wasn’t sure how to react; physical affection wasn’t normal in the Malfoy home. ‘This is the last thing I will be able to do for you.’
After several moments, Draco finally spoke. ‘How would we even know it works? Sounds like more lore than fact.’
‘I know it works. I know because I’ve done it before.’ Silence. ‘You see, when I was in my own sixth year at Hogwarts, your father and I…we had just begun courting. I was very happy.’ A ghost of a smile crossed her features,’ My parents were thrilled that such an important member of the Sacred 27 had shown interest in me.’
‘They were especially please after my eldest sister, Andromeda, got dishoned’ Draco knew his mother had a sister had met, but he had never thought to question it before. ‘She had left our family to marry a Mudblood she met at school. After her betrayal, my father became especially strict with Bella and me on who we could associate. The importance of keeping magical blood pure was instilled often as possible - not that it mattered to me. I had already fancied your father before, so I did not have anything to worry about. Your father had always been a charmer, you see. All Slytherin girls were after him - his surname was just a bonus. I was elated when he asked my father's permission for my hand in marriage after graduation. He had fancied me for a while as well.’
Draco was awestruck. He knew his parents cared for each other but always figured it was something that developed through an arranged marriage. They had spoken about arranging him with a worthy pure-blood girl before his father's arrest. His “love” life until now had been for show. He had never felt anything romantic toward another before. Draco kept listening to his mother.
‘During our final year at Hogwarts, I got a letter from Andromeda. At that point, we had been estranged for years, and I had strict orders never to associate with her again. Curiosity got the better of me, and I read her letter instead of throwing it out.’ His mother's expression turned sad, ‘Andromeda had written to me saying that she missed me and that she was sorry she hurt the family. She had apparently given birth to a baby girl by her Mudblood husband. They wanted me to meet her as she was my family too. I was hesitant but agreed to meet her on our next Hogsmeade outing. I had no interest in meeting the half-blooded child; I only wanted an explanation as to why my sister left Bella and me behind. I knew I should not have agreed to meet her, but I would have been lying to myself if I said I hadn’t missed her all those years. She used to be my favourite sister. I was devastated when she left. I didn’t know what had happened until our parents sent Bella and me a letter about the new circumstances. After that, they never spoke her name again - as if she never existed.’
‘When the next Hogsmeade visit came around, I explained to Lucius why I would be elsewhere for a few hours. I met Andromeda at the Hogshead, figuring it would be far away from prying eyes. I hadn’t realized how much I missed my sister until I saw her again. I know I shouldn’t have been, but I was happy to talk to her again.’
Narcissa’s expression suddenly turned cold. A coldness that Draco had never seen her make inside the walls of the manor, not even after the Dark Lord’s arrival. When we finished, she left via floo, and I started making my way back to Lucius. As I left, however, my father was across at the entrance of the Three Broomsticks - where I was supposed to meet Lucius. Andromeda had sent the same letter of peace to Bella, and Bella informed my father. He had come to make sure I hadn’t disobeyed him.’
Draco was completely attentive to his mother's tale. Why had he never known about his parent's past? He knew the answer; Malfoy's don't ask questions; they give orders. As his mother continued, Draco brought his attention back to her.
‘That night my father broke off my engagement to your father,’ Pain was clearly written on his mother's face as she spoke those words. ‘I had to be punished for disobeying his orders. Later that week, he promised my hand to another Sacred 27 family member. The Goyle’s. Although pure-bloods, the Goyle male heirs were known for having a reputation of being…aggressively handsy with their spouses.’ Disgust filled Draco’s inside. Of course, he knew the reputation; he just could not imagine someone doing that to his mother.
‘For the remainder of my career at Hogwarts, I was forced to spend my time with my betrothed. I know your father was hurt by the actions I had taken to end our relationship. I was forbidden to speak to him, and after my last disobedience, I was not too eager to break the uses again. Before going home for Easter, Goyle became angry at me. He ended up putting his hands on me that night.’
Draco was seeing red. Sure, his father was tough to please, but he would never have done something atrocious to his mother. The furthest their arguments went was giving curt responses when the other spoke. To think anyone harmed his mother made his blood run cold.
‘I knew then that if I stayed, it would only become worse after we wed. I was just so afraid of leaving him and being dishoned by my family as Andromeda had been. When I got home the next day, I spent most of my time in the library. As I searched the book-littered walls, I found this diary.’ She held the book with much care. ‘At first, I thought the pages were blank, but as I went to put it back on the shelf, I cut my finger on the parchment. A spell appeared on the first page as my blood touched the book. It was a spell that would allow the caster to go back in time and find their soulmate. I was desperate for a way out after the previous night's events, so I performed the spell right then and there. Even if death was a possible outcome’
Silence fell upon the dark library. ‘Mother…’ Draco began, but Narcissa touched his lips gently.
‘I never regretted the decision I took that night. When I went back, I did not meet Andromeda for tea that day at Hogsmead. I ended up marrying your father, and shortly after, we had you. I cannot bring myself to regret any choice that leads me to have you, Draco. The only thing I am sorry about is that I gave you a life that led you to this. I want to give you a chance that this book gave me. Will you take what I am offering you?’
Would he take it? It had all been a lot to take in; not only did he discover that time travel and alternate realities were possible, but he had also learned more about his mother's life than he had ever known before. It took several moments until Draco spoke.
‘ I don’t understand. Why didn’t you ever tell me? Does father know?’ After all, he had learned, he knew this wasn’t the most important thing to ask about; he just felt a slight pang of betrayal.
Narcissa turned her gaze downward once more. ‘No. He does not know. I had sworn to myself that this secret would die with me as I thought I would get it right this time. I am aware of the dangers the knowledge of this information would bring. It was better no one knew. I had tried everything I could to forget my past and live on in this one.’
Looking up at her son's face, Narcissa took a shakey breath and continued. ‘I will not force you to follow what I had done all those years ago. I will not make that choice for you. That is for you alone to make. All I can do is given you the offer.’
He alone had to make this kind of choice?! Draco Malfoy did not make choices, especially not of this gravity. To his parents, it was too risky for him to make his own friends; they had to do that for him. It was not his choice to sneak Death Eaters into Hogwarts last summer; it was a task that was given to him. Suddenly the option to rewrite his future is his choice? How was he supposed to decide something so life-altering, knowing that he is closer to becoming a half-breed with every second that passed?
He risks dying if he chooses to go, knowing he has likely not met his soulmate. But he would be as good as dead if he decided to stay. Was it really much of choice?
‘I’ll do it,’ said the barely audible voice of Draco Malfoy. He half didn’t believe those words had been spoken by him.
‘Are you sure? I know what I am asking is too mu-’
‘Mother,’ He cut her off, ‘You gave me the offer; you weren’t asking a favour. I am choosing to give it a try.’
Narcissa gave her son a slight nod. ‘Then we must move quickly. Time is running short. Come here.’
‘Well? What should I do?’ Despite Draco’s hesitation, he felt vulnerable. He wasn’t one to easily admit when he did not know something.
‘The one who is going back must be the one to reveal the spell. It needs your blood. When I did it, it had been an accident, but a prick of a finger should do.’ Quickly retrieving a long pin from her fair, she quickly did work of transfiguring it into a sharp silver needle. Narcissa passed the needle to her son with shaking hands.
Draco would have been lying to himself if the thought of running and leaving this life behind didn’t cross his mind. Now that he knew an escape was possible, it seemed too good to be true. What had he ever done to deserve a happy ending anyway?
He quickly took the needle from his mother's grip before allowing his mind the chance to prevent him from going forward with the spell. It was now or never; he had no time to think about it. Without a second thought, Draco let a scarlet droplet stain the surface of his pale skin. Taking the notebook, he pressed the pad of his finger against the empty pages of the yellowing parchment. In mere moments the diary became filled with curly red scripture. The spell.
‘Now Draco, quickly. Read what it says and learn the wand movements. Memorize them. The spell will only show itself for a minute before disappearing again. When it does, you will not be able to get it to show itself again. There will be no more chances.’
More nervous than ever, Draco carefully memorized the contents of the page. He made sure to engrave every last detail into his mind. The scripture slowly faded away from the pages of the book. This was it; no more chances.
The gravity of the situation was starting to make itself clear; he could die in a few minutes or live to try again. Either way, he must clear his mind if he wants a shot to survive.
‘Draco,’ Narscissa said before Draco could start the incantation. ‘I have a favour to ask. When you return, will you convince me to reach out to my sister? If you’re successful, the future I wanted has been set, and I always wanted to rekindle my relationship with her. Fear of losing everything always won out.’
Draco took a moment to process his mother's request. ‘Of course, mother. I will do what I can.’ Before he could stop himself, Draco lunged toward his mother and gave her a long embrace. He knew this might be the last time he saw her. Although taken aback at first, Narcissa quickly held her son, knowing this was the last time she would see him. It took everything in her to let go.
Once parted, Draco took a long step back and began reciting the incantation. He looked at his mother as he performed the final wave of his wand.
At first, nothing happened. Could he have done it wrong? Was there something he missed? Fear filled his body as the thought of failure overcame him. His body was beginning to burn up as though he had been forced to lay in a bed of torches. His skin felt as though somewhere was pouring acid on him as they sprinkled salt into each fresh wound. Although frozen in place, Draco’s muscles were contorting in agony. He could not scream; he could not move. He stayed still, and he was being tortured. No cruciatus had ever been this vial. The pain was becoming too much, and Draco knew this was the end. The sight of his sobbing mother was the last thing he saw before it all went dark.
Narcissa dropped next to her son as his lifeless form fell to the floor. She stayed with them for hours, knowing that she would never see him alive again. It was not until faint voices broke from the corridor that she finally moved. Draco was gone, and Lucius was good as. The doors to the library burst with a sudden bang, and she patiently waited to be found. Consequences be damned - Narcissa Malfoy was done.