Chapter 2
This had to be a joke. A sick, cruel joke, and him eventually killing himself would be the punchline- because there’s no way he wouldn’t, not when things were like this. Was this the retaliation from Death that Malfoy had warned him about?
Well, he couldn’t exactly call him Malfoy anymore- that would get confusing in the immediate future. After all, there were four Malfoys in this room now; Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and the newest addition to the family.
Him.
Hydrus Malfoy.
It had to be a joke.
How and why? Who decided this would be a good idea? No, nobody could think this was a good idea, just a funny one. Death was probably having a hearty laugh at his new lot in life. What a bastard.
Why are we here? Just to suffer? Harry thought to himself morbidly. It was a small comfort that his inner voice sounded like he had before being reborn. He turned his infant head to look at Malfoy- Draco, he had to call him by his first name now that they were twins- who was lying in the same crib as him. Please end me, he pleaded.
With pleasure, Draco projected viciously. Twin Telepathy; useful for situations like this, where their mouths literally couldn’t form words. Harry- Hydrus, his name was Hydrus now, had to remember that- watched as Draco’s tiny body struggled to grab the pillow he was resting his head on, and placed it on Hydrus’ face, pushing down on the fluffy mass with his chubby hands.
Why were there pillows in the crib in the first place? It seemed like a bad idea, considering he was currently suffocating (Hydrus, lacking in worldly knowledge as he was, didn’t know that most people didn’t place pillows in baby cribs for this very reason), but it all worked out to his benefit in the end, so he wouldn’t fuss over the small details.
His tiny lungs were starting to hurt, and he could hardly stop his baby body from crying out in pain, but the noises were muffled. Not muffled enough, apparently, because a woman shrieked bloody murder. Moments later, the pillow was removed, and he got an eyeful of the terrified face of Narcissa.
“Hydrus! Oh, my baby,” she crooned, gathering him up in her arms, pressing his face against her shoulder. She ran her free hand through his unruly black hair. “Don’t cry, dearest, Mother is here now.” She spent a few moments bouncing him until his uncooperative flesh prison finally stopped wailing. Narcissa pressed a soft kiss to his tiny forehead, and wow he was tired. Crying really took a lot out of him.
He drifted off to sleep as Narcissa gently scolded Draco, Lucius’ voice occasionally echoing in the background.
Time passed, and with every new day, Lucius grew more and more concerned about his sons. They were… Odd. He wasn’t exactly an expert at parenting, but even he knew that children should not be like this.
They didn’t run around and cause havoc, which might’ve been a relief had they not been too quiet. It was unnerving, and Narcissa also seemed rather worried. Draco and Hydrus mostly kept to themselves, never seeking out their parents for anything, even comfort, no matter what happened. Their independence was, frankly, quite disturbing.
The worst part (aside from Draco’s repeated attempts to assassinate Hydrus) was that they seemed to have developed some sort of… Distaste, for Lucius. He might not have ever acknowledged it, instead chalking it up to their quiet, abnormal ways, had Narcissa not brought it to his attention.
“They don’t like you, Lucius,” Narcissa said bluntly to him one evening, as they were preparing for bed. The man paused in the middle of brushing his teeth, leaning over the sink in the bathroom connected to the master bedroom.
“What?” he asked, straightening up, the foam in his mouth garbling his voice. He walked into the main chamber, toothbrush still hanging out of his mouth. Narcissa shot him a baleful glare at his lack of decorum, but he was hardly going to keep up the facade of a pompous arse in his own manor.
“Hydrus and Draco,” she clarified. “Haven’t you ever noticed how they stare at you whenever you enter a room?”
He had, but he’d tried to ignore it. It was honestly rather creepy, the way they stopped whatever they were doing to eye him. Whether they were reading a book (children should not be reading the books they were, but neither he nor Narcissa had been able to convince them to read something more age-appropriate), or half-heartedly playing with their toys (Lucius suspected they were just doing it to appease Narcissa). Even at dinner, they spent more time tracking his every motion than eating. But Lucius hadn’t been able to make sense of it, so he’d put it out of his mind.
“They do seem rather… Wary, of me,” he allowed. “I’d hardly call it a dislike, though. I am their father.”
“Lucius.” She might have only said his name, but Lucius knew by her tone that she wanted him to stop playing a fool. All he could do was shrug.
“What would you have from me? I’ve done nothing to inspire such feelings in them,” he defended, waving his toothbrush around like a wand.
“Perhaps you could try being their father?” Narcissa said pointedly. “You can’t possibly expect them to love you when you haven’t shown that you love them. You do love your sons, don’t you?” she challenged.
“Of course I do!” Lucius cried, accidentally spitting out a bit of foam. Oops. He quickly walked over to the sink and rinsed out his mouth, then returned to his previous position. “How could they think I don’t love them? My father raised me in the same way, and I never doubted he cared for me.”
“Care for and love are two very different things, husband. Children are very perceptive. Your obsession with raising them gracefully makes you distant, and they will interpret that space as a lack of love. You must close the gap, before you permanently damage your relationship with Draco and Hydrus, because I warn you now Lucius, I will not waste my time trying to mend bridges in your stead.”
Lucius blinked. Narcissa… Had never been quite this willful before. She was one of the Black Sisters, sure, wicked with a wand and deadly (quite literally) gorgeous, but she’d always been the most demure of the trio. For the majority of their marriage, she’d simply gone along with what Lucius did, never seemingly particularly interested in much of it. It seemed that motherhood had changed her.
Changed them. Theirs was a political match, love did not factor into the equation, but there had been a sense of companionship. Yet, without even noticing, he’d grown closer to his wife. They were more affectionate, smiles and banter passed between them easier. Could companionship and duty grow into something more, cynical and jaded as they both were?
“I… I will try.” And not just for his sons.
Draco was getting twitchy. He hated being a child again, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed spending time with his mother again, to see her unburdened by the years, Lucius’ slimy manoeuvring, and the Dark Lord’s presence in their manor. She was vibrant, and he soaked in every moment with her. Even when she insisted she act like his physical age.
His mother made being a child again bearable. It was Hydrus that unnerved him. Once they’d settled into the reality of their situation, his twin became blank, for lack of a better word, and it wasn’t because of any advanced skill with Occlumency. It was as if he was simply unfeeling, most of the time. Certain things could inspire emotion within him, though those moments were debatably worse.
Hydrus felt with everything he had, and it echoed through their Twin Telepathy. It was wholly unnerving, when Hydrus’ mind succumbed to feral rage whenever he laid eyes upon Lucius, only for none of it to show on the boy’s face. And some days, when there wasn’t anything to distract Hydrus, and he was left to his own thoughts…
Their main goal was to kill the Dark Lord. They’d conversed at length, Hydrus sharing stories and memories of his past adventures through their mental link, explaining all he’d gone through, and what they’d need to do going forward to accomplish their mutual goal. Draco had been a skilled wizard, and would be a large boon to Hydrus in his quest, with inside knowledge of the Dark Lord’s operations. Their combined foresight would be what turned the tide.
At least, that was what they thought, until they learned they hadn’t just gone back in time, with the caveat of Potter becoming Hydrus Malfoy. They were in another world, or an alternate universe, or something, because many things didn’t line up with what they knew.
The first major, glaring difference; James and Lily Potter were alive. They didn’t die the night of All Hallows Eve, 1981. Instead, it had been Charlus and Dorea Potter (another difference, since in the original world Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were James’ parents) who died for the child, an Ivy Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived.
The story of sacrifice and triumph was rerun in the Daily Herald (replacing the Prophet) every Halloween. Draco and Hydrus found out when they were three, and Hydrus had wandlessly summoned the paper out of Lucius’ hands at the breakfast table, seeing a picture of his parents who were no longer his parents on the front page. Mother and Lucius had chalked it up to accidental magic, though they’d been a bit curious about how directed it was.
It derailed all their plans. If one of the foundations of Harry Potter’s life, the death of his parents which resulted in him being sent to the Dursleys, wasn't the same, then what else had changed? Who else had changed? For all they knew, the Dark Lord hadn’t made a single Horcrux. Maybe he was truly dead. Unfortunately, though faded, the Dark Mark was still present on Lucius’ arm. Of course, considering that Hydrus wouldn’t be allowed to die until he defeated the Dark Lord, they hadn’t really expected him to be truly dead.
(Hydrus dearly hoped that ending Voldemort in this world would fulfill Death’s condition, and that he didn’t need to kill the one in a world he could no longer access.)
That sent Hydrus down a dark path for a few days, and Draco had to block the link. The mix of despair and wrath was too much, too heavy. He would’ve either become suicidal, or become a mindless beserker that destroyed everything in his path. How Hydrus managed to keep it all locked up in his head without levelling the manor (he was certainly strong enough to do it, even in this body), Draco had no clue.
In the end, all they could do was play it by ear. They’d check all the places where Voldemort had hidden his Horcruxes in the previous timeline, but if they couldn’t find them… Well, they’d cross that bridge when they got there. Which wouldn’t be until a few years from now, because they couldn’t very well disappear on a quest to permanently end the Dark Lord when Lucius and Mother were keeping a close eye on them. Anyways, they were children; their tiny bodies would hold them back too much. It just wasn’t worth the hassle.
If there was any consolation, it was that Hydrus, in his research for ways to improve his odds of defeating the Dark Lord, had found many rituals that could only be performed on children before their magic stabilised, which happened at eleven. The only issue was actually doing them, since as mentioned, Lucius and Mother were watching them like hawks due to their oddities compared to other children.
Hydrus assured him that he would handle it, and that… Was a little concerning. A week or so later, Hydrus proved that Draco was right to have worried, though the elder Malfoy son sorely wished he had been wrong.
What’s this? A Lucius redemption arc?