Past, Present, & Future
Chapter 20: Past, Present, & Future
Draco and Blaise were easily able to slip back into the castle unseen, fearing the greenhouses were still too close to the forest for comfort. Watching out the windows as the first rays of light glanced off the lake, the boys were able to casually stroll out onto the grounds. There was a frenzy of reporters and Ministry officials hounding each other, and Fudge was attempting to give some sort of press conference to get ahead of the angry headlines. “ NOTORIOUS MURDERER SIRIUS BLACK ESCAPED AGAIN UNDER MINISTER’S WATCH” Draco could just see it now. He was sure his father would be hiding in the wings, waiting for the opportune time to offer ‘assistance’.
When they reached him, Theo was waiting in the clearing, exhausted and wobbly on his feet. Poor Professor Lupin, however, looked like he’d had the best night of his life. He borrowed Theo’s outer robes, and walked back to the castle with them, avoiding the gaggle of outsiders flocked near Hagrid’s Hut where both a dangerous Hippogriff and escaped convict had disappeared into thin air.
The Professor deigned to fill them in on what they missed. It seemed he was most enthusiastic to explain how Sirius had been innocent, but was extremely surprised and a bit unnerved by the fact that they already knew the tale.
“Is that what you were trying to tell me?” Lupin asked Draco pointedly. The boy only smirked in confirmation, and Lupin gave him an appreciative smile. “Any idea where he’s gone?”
“Wouldn’t he contact you? You’re his best friend, right?” Theo asked in turn.
“Possibly…” Lupin pondered, “Sirius has always had his own way of doing things. I suppose he’ll see me when he’s ready to see me, then.”
“I bet it felt good to get a swipe at Snape after all these years,” Blaise chuckled, changing the topic back to the story. “Do you think you would’ve actually killed him?”
Lupin raised a brow at the implication, before furrowing both before responding with, “Yes. I would have.” His frown deepened, “I want you boys to remember something.” He looked each of them in the eye for a moment, and Draco was struck by the familiarity of the action his mother often used to press upon them the importance of what would follow next. “Taking a life, or attempting to, is never something to be proud of or laugh at. Even as retribution, it will break you—and your soul to pieces. Every life is sacred, no matter how small or how wretched.”
The three boys went silent as they pondered his words. The man looked weary and worn as the morning sun illuminated his many scars and deepened lines at the corners of his eyes. He appeared so much older than he was, and his experience bled into his words, giving them pause.
“I mean it. Be cautious. You never know when a callous action could cost someone their life,” he said in finality before swiftly exiting the woods and marching up the steps to the castle, putting an increasing amount of distance between himself and the Slytherins.
…
The commonroom was nearly empty except for two female forms lying in wait on the couch. At the sound of their arrival, the girls scrambled to their feet expectantly. When none of the boys responded immediately, Pansy audibly scoffed.
“You’re really not going to tell us?” Daphne pouted in disappointment.
Theo grinned smugly before whisper-yelling, “I’M A WOLF! ”
Daphne clapped her hands together excitedly, “oh that’s wonderful, Theo! And you two?” She turned expectantly.
“Raven,” Blaise shrugged nonchalantly.
Draco held his Occlumency shields up as long as he possibly could. He was bursting to tell them how amazing it was to be able to fly and heal people with his tears…but watching Pansy’s face sour was just too comical to pass up.
“Draco?” Daphne asked, probing for any hint of a reaction, her eyes searching his.
“Don’t be such a prat! Just tell us, already!” Pansy snarled.
Finally, Draco broke, his shields tumbling down, giving way to hearty laughter. “Oh, Pans, your face! You were so angry!”
She punched his shoulder a little harder than he’d like, but his smile never faltered, “a Phoenix.”
“WHAT?!” Pansy shouted, and Daphne pinched the back of her arm to reign in her volume. “What?!” she whispered again, shooting her friend and angry glare.
“That’s incredible, Draco, a magical creature as an animagus is super rare isn’t it?” Daphne pointed out much more calmly.
Draco nodded, smirking, “yes, it is! Finally, someone recognizes it.”
“I’m still shocked you weren’t an albino peacock,” Blaise and Theo cackled, the girls chiming in and even Draco quirked a lip.
The common room started to fill up as more students woke, milling around before a late breakfast. The sun was shining brightly and warmth flowed through the halls of the castle, even into the dungeons. The Slytherin third years were pleasantly surprised by Potter and Weasley’s absences, and the Gryffindor table looked a bit grim. The rumor was that Professor Lupin had resigned from his post first thing this morning to get ahead of the werewolf accusations that were sure to come out, now that the whole school knew after last night's incident.
“I still don’t understand how all these secret events unfold without anyone ever noticing, but somehow the whole school knows the next day…” Blaise mused. “I mean the three of us and the three Gryffindors saw, but I haven’t said anything and surely they didn’t rat him out—they bloody love the guy!”
“I reckon someone saw him leave last night and heard the howling—from Snape that is,” Theo chuckled. “He was raving mad all night and still is this morning—didn’t you hear him in his office when we were walking up here? It’s a wonder Dumbledore didn’t sack him on the spot too! I mean the man’s a lunatic—”
“I just meant…like first year and with Quirrell—and the stuff that happened in the Chamber of Secrets last year…how did everyone find out by the next morning?” Blaise asked pensively.
“It’s almost as if someone wants it to get out,” Theo commented between bites of sausage and eggs. “My money’s on Potter.”
“Someone does want it to get out,” Draco grumbled, glowering at Dumbledore, “and I don’t think it’s Potter.” The man’s ever-twinkling blue eyes flitted to him, a soft smile gracing his lips before he returned his attention to Professor McGonagall on his right.
…
Another Hogsmede trip was scheduled for the day, but none of the Slytherin crew felt up to it. The castle’s growing heat had turned sweltering and it was left deserted as the students sought refuge under the beech trees around the Black Lake. They were watching the giant squid waving its tentacles lazily above the water as they chattered on about the events of the previous night—recounting it in detail for the girls, Greg, Vince, and Millie. Draco lost the thread of the conversation as he looked across to the opposite bank. He could still envision her lifeless body…
The Gryffindors must’ve been released from the infirmary, as they wandered the path around the lake, passing the Slytherins quickly before claiming their own shade a few trees away, just out of earshot. It wasn’t long after, when Hagrid clomped his way over to them, bleary-eyed and mopping his sweaty face with a tablecloth-sized handkerchief. He stayed talking to them for a few minutes, when Potter leapt from his place on the grass and ran toward the castle.
“Always dramatic, that one,” Theo chuckled, noticing Draco’s line of sight.
“Oh like you’re one to talk,” Draco and Blaise scoffed simultaneously.
Theo clutched his chest, jaw dropped, “I’m offended!”
The Slytherins all burst into laughter. It was a good morning. The sun’s rays glittered across the water, Greg was laying against the bark of the tree with Millie in this lap. Daphne and Pansy were laying back, soaking up the warmth spreading across their skin. Blaise and Theo were laughing heartily with Vince, skipping rocks across the water’s smooth surface. Draco sighed in contentment, these days were far and few between it seemed, and he was determined to enjoy them while he could.
When the girls were sufficiently pink-cheeked, and the boys had sweat through their shirts, the friends decided to head in for showers and drinks. Waiting for his turn in the bathrooms, Draco went to see Professor Lupin before he left, but found only an empty classroom and office. The wardrobe was gone as was the Grindylow tank. Empty.
“Looking for someone?”
Draco startled, but immediately tried to gather his wits, recognizing the voice. “He’s gone then, I guess?” Draco asked without turning around.
“You missed him by about an hour, but I’m sure you’ll cross paths soon.”
“Right, and what makes you say that?” Draco asked a bit harshly.
The voice paused for a moment, “I remember my students well—all of my students.”
He couldn’t possibly know about mother and …Draco threw up his Occlumency shields. He couldn’t be sure if Dumbledore was using Legilimency on him, but he wouldn’t dare give more information than necessary. If there was one person Draco didn’t trust, it was the Headmaster.
“You did a brave thing last night, I daresay it was very Gryffindor of you,” Dumbledore said, the smile audible in his voice.
“As if,” Draco grumbled with an eye roll. He knew the Headmaster was looking for a rise out of him…and any details he could purge out of the boy.
“Miss Granger had remnants of extensive injuries and had suffered a great deal of blood loss according to Madam Pomfrey this morning,” the older man hinted. “And yet, she was perfectly fine when she awoke.”
“She’s friends with Potter, is that really so unbelievable? The kid has a monopoly on luck,” Draco muttered.
“It would seem that only few things could harness such magic…perhaps a unicorn offered her some blood, although there would be dangerous effects as we know…” Albus considered carefully.
Draco turned as the old man paused his speech, eyeing him warily.
“or perhaps Severus had the perfect potion brewed and ready, though I’m sure his hubris wouldn’t allow for him to keep that accomplishment to himself…or perhaps a wayward Phoenix took pity on her, though Fawkes was in my office with me…however help is always given at Hogwarts to those who seek it…”
The Headmaster’s polar blue eyes twinkled as he watched for Draco’s reaction. To his credit, the blonde held onto his Occlumency shields like a life raft going over rapids. He didn’t flinch, and Dumbledore smiled as if no reaction was just as good as admitting the truth.
“She, of course, has no recollection of the event. There was also the matter of two werewolves running through the forest. It was very dangerous to be out of the castle last night, indeed,” Dumbledore said with finality, clasping his fingers behind his back as he casually paced around the room.
“Two?” Draco feigned ignorance and the Headmaster smiles without looking at the boy.
“Mr. Malfoy, do you feel that you have learned much this year?” He asked, moving on to a new topic of questioning.
“I guess so,” Draco answered cautiously as the Headmaster continued to circle him like a predator.
“Good, good…I see that once again you’ve done exceedingly well in your studies this year,” Albus nodded in thought as he spoke.
“Thank you, sir,” said Draco, unsure of what else to say.
“It must have been awfully stress-inducing with all the time-traveling. Interesting concept, Time Magic—very hard to predict, touchy subject really, often misused and quite misunderstood, in my opinion.”
“I suppose,” Draco said noncommittally.
Dumbledore looked the boy over, appraising him, possibly probing his mind for all he knew, but Draco kept the mask firmly in place, unyielding.
Unsatisfied, Albus continued, “I couldn’t help but notice that your pocket watch appears to be a family heirloom.” He searched Draco’s blank stare. “Would you allow me to take a closer look?”
Draco hesitated. If he were to let Dumbledore inspect the watch would he find out what’s been happening? Would he take it away and send it back to the Ministry? Surely Croaker would find a reason to punish him as if it was his own fault. What if he makes the traveling stop? Draco wasn’t sure why, but he had a nagging feeling that the watch wasn’t quite finished with him yet…
Lie.
“I don’t have it on me right now,” Draco offered, avoiding eye contact.
“Ah, well, nothing to be done about it then,” Dumbledore smiled sweetly as he scrutinized the boy’s features, obviously suspecting his deception.
Lie better.
“I can try to bring it by before we leave for summer break, sir,” Draco added weakly. He really didn’t want to make that kind of promise, and he knew the Headmaster wouldn’t forget such an offer especially after showing such special interest. It seemed like the only option to avoid suspicion at the moment, however.
The man nodded, accepting the proposal. “I should really get back to my common room,” Draco said nervously as he inched toward the door of the empty classroom.
“Yes, of course,” Dumbledore smiled knowingly, continuing his circular wandering path around the room. “We will speak more later, then.”
Draco quickly exited the classroom, trying to control his heart rate, as if the Headmaster could feel the boy’s heartbeat pounding in his chest. “Oh, Draco,” Dumbledore called from behind him, “I nearly forgot to wish you luck in your study with St. Mungo’s. I do hope you find the answers you’re looking for. If I may be of any assistance, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Draco turned back for a moment, just enough to catch the old man’s smug face as he turned the opposite direction down the corridor, whistling an unfamiliar tune as he walked. How the fuck did he know?
…
Once safely back in his dormitory, Draco grabbed his shower things and began to undress. As he moved to unclasp his belt, he felt the weight of the pocket watch, and pulled it out just to give it a once over. It looked the same as it always did, an antique with polished silver.
He looked at the inscription, reading it again:
“I wait for no man, yet stand perfectly still,
I fly with no wings, and inevitably kill.
I may be turned back, but only by few,
Useful in tasks asked only of you.”
He turned it over in his hand, running a thumb over the engraved B . Draco clicked open the watch, taking caution to not nudge or bump the hourglass, but when he held it up to look at the black grains of sand, they were already flowing both ways simultaneously. Draco felt the room around him turn and flip, things were spinning as though a tornado had encircled him. He was pitched upside down and his feet hung uncomfortably over his head. He frantically looked for a way—anything at all—to pull himself upright, but when the whipping slowed, he found his feet were already on the ground and his vision turned on its axis.
The upside down world was so familiar, so normal, but something was off. Draco took a few tentative steps across a white marble floor. The room was empty of any and all decorations and furnishings. His footsteps echoed through the cavernous room, with nothing to absorb or stifle the sound. As he approached a grand set of stairs that had come into view, a new thought struck Draco— this is the Manor…but where is everything? Where has it gone?
A blood curdling scream reverberated all around him. Draco knew. It was her. He whipped around looking for the sound, running back into the empty room, now shadowed in darkness across every corner. Her blood pooled around her twitching body, back arching off the floor as his Aunt Bella tortured her with curse after curse. Her eyes rolled back and she was still. No! No! What is this place?!
Draco couldn’t fathom this as the future. Surely it wasn’t the past, she was older than she should be…and Bellatrix…she’s still in Azkaban. He tried to control his panic, rationalizing and reasoning with his mind over the scene playing out before him.
Unhinged and grinning giddily, Bellatrix looked Draco in the eyes, “Your turn, Draco.” She gestured to the nearly lifeless body between them.
He gulped. She was going to torture him the same way. Draco felt his wand arm raising itself and he tried to think of any defensive spell he could muster to protect himself. But the arm had a mind of its own, creating a direct line from his shoulder to her.
Stop. STOP!
The words weren’t connected to his lips. He tried to block it out—raise his shields—anything…
Granger’s body leapt off the floor, like a marionette jerked by its strings. She dropped to the cold marble floor with a deafening thud. His wand flicked toward her again and her eyes flew open, looking directly into his. Her limbs twisted sharply, and she cried out in agony, begging for her life, then…begging for a quicker death.
“Good boy, Draco,” Bella purred at him, “now kill the Mudblood!”
And he did.
The flash of green light streaked from his wand to her chest; her now lifeless eyes staring through him.
The room flipped on its head again. Draco was holding in tears, her dead eyes imprinted on his brain. He stumbled, as he choked on the sounds that wouldn’t come out of his throat. His knees buckled and he felt the pavement of a back alley—a Muggle city if the clothing the passersby wore was any indication.
Distraught, he attempted to ground himself to his new surroundings. Bellatrix was nowhere in sight, and Granger was…
CRACK!
A short, stubby young man had Apparated across the street. He looked around suspiciously before crossing the road and entering the already occupied alleyway. The man hid behind a dumpster, peeking out into the street every few minutes—waiting for someone it seemed.
CRACK!
The street was much busier than it had been when Draco arrived, but the second man—too far away to identify yet—didn’t seem to care that Muggles were staring at him, shell shocked by his sudden appearance out of thin air. The second man stormed into the alleyway shouting, “PETER! PETER, YOU COWARD! COME OUT, COME OUT AND PLAY!”
The first man froze. He slowly emerged from his hiding spot, his wand raised defensively. Draco could now make out the features of the newcomer. Sirius.
“Sirius! How did you find me here?” Peter asked a little too quickly.
“Save it, Pete! I know it was you—you sold them out to Voldemort!” Sirius growled as he closed in on the other man.
“N-n-no! It wasn’t me!” Peter stammered, his blonde hair growing greasy with his profuse sweating. He started to take a step back, but stopped himself. Peter, instead, leaned in and marched toward Sirius, his wand raised righteously, with newfound anger on his face. “Sirius Black! You murdered them! You were their friend! Their secret-keeper!”
Peter lowered his wand, and Sirius froze, unsure of what he was playing at now. The smaller man pulled out a knife, the silver glinting in the streetlights.
“Oi! Peter, what you gonna do with that thing?” Sirius snapped, gesturing to the new weapon as he drew his wand out of his sleeve.
Peter slashed his wand through the air in every direction, and fire erupted on all sides of them. A shockwave forced down every Muggle in a fifty good radius—twelve didn’t get back up.
Draco looked to the two wizards, and was shocked to see Peter raising the knife to his finger before slicing down hard and swiftly, before dropping to all fours. Peter cried out in pain, clutching his hand to his chest, as his body grew smaller and smaller. A rat was left in the man’s place and it scurried through the street.
Sirius was stunned. His features displayed nothing short of astonishment and defeat. Pops of Apparition sounded all around them, and the Aurors closed in. Sirius let out a howl of laughter that carried on and on, eventually turning into a hoarse bark.
“Sirius Black, you are under arrest for the murder of twelve Muggles and for violating the Statute of Secrecy by performing magic in front of no less than three hundred Muggle bystanders,” an Auror grabbed Sirius’s arms, yanking the wand from his grip.
Another Auror knelt in front of them, picking up Peter’s bloody finger. “And who does this belong to?”
Sirius only laughed louder when the man used a detection spell before charging Sirius with the murder of Peter Pettigrew.
The world flipped back.
Draco coughed, his lungs feeling like they were on fire as black billowing smoke filled his vision. He stumbled down a few steps…he was in Hogwarts again, he could feel it. His blonde hair was covered in ashes and soot from the sparks and rubble falling overhead.
Finally reaching a pocket of fresher air, Draco looked up to find the castle ablaze. Bellatrix was cackling in the distance as she danced haphazardly over the grounds, shooting curses and hexes in every which way. One eventually struck—burning down Hagrid’s hut. She skipped gleefully into the Forbidden Forest, flanked by what looked like a gang of Death Eaters and one bat-like shape that could only be Severus Snape.
A hand shoved Draco to the ground from behind. He tried to look over his shoulder, but the hand was unattached to any person. Potter.
“You did this!” Scarhead accused, hand pointing to the castle, lighting the night around them. “You let the Death Eaters in! You killed him! YOU DID IT!” Potter swung his fist at him, and though the rest of the Gryffindor was invisible, Draco read the movement, pulling himself out of the way of the other boy’s fist.
The world flipped and the burning school went dark. There was nothing but darkness.
Icy cold quickly seeped into Draco’s bones and he found himself face-to-face with a horde of Dementors. Their hoods were drawn back, their scabbed over and eyeless faces bearing down on him. He tried to scream, but nothing came out, his vocal chords scraping together painfully. The nearest Dementor pushed its head to within inches of his face, and Draco’s vision blurred.
Screams. Her screams. Her dead eyes.
The ground fell out from underneath him and the world flipped upside down. He was lost in the space around him, consumed by the black void. Draco fell for what seemed like hours, slowly losing speed until he felt, only for a moment, that he had lost all momentum and was simply floating through the nothingness. The moment was soon gone and some unknown force began to push him upwards, propelling him faster and faster until he felt as though he would break through some sort of glass ceiling—
He opened his eyes to find the tiled floor of the showers under his palms as his clothes soaked up the steam of the running water, leaving him damp. When he stood to move, he heard a crunch. Beneath him lay the now cracked and broken silver pocket watch. Uncontrollably, visions of her writhing on the floor flashed through his mind—the crunching and cracking of bones, her screams attacking his ears in an unforgiving onslaught. His heart sank through his body, and he dropped back to the floor.
Inescapable tears poured from him, leaking from his red-rimmed eyes. Draco sobbed, his breath catching in his throat until he had to gasp for air. His clothing thoroughly soaked, he angrily ripped his shirt from his chest, wadding it up and slamming it down in front of where he sat with a wet slap. He crossed his arms over his knees, hugging them tight to his chest, covering his face in the process. An enraged growl escaped him, like a cornered animal, seeing the inevitable fate before him.
He would be the end of her .