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Chapter Text

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1

𝕸𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝕽𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊

Draco could hear, he could hear the birds sing, he could hear the nostalgia in the air, the sounds of peacocks, distant and majestic, the sounds of the morning itself, the leaves, the magic...

Draco could feel, could feel the warmth of the sunlight, hugging and bathing his skin, the softness of the sheets and the comfort of the environment.

Draco could smell, could smell the smell of prestige, vain, cruel and wonderful, the scent of flowers, vanilla and lavender.

Draco could hear, smell, and feel, but he didn't want to see. 

He did not want to see, because he did not want to allow himself to feel the cruel joy of thinking that he was in the mansion.

Even though he had been expelled from it, even though he had been expelled from wizarding society, even though he had laid down on a cold dirty floor, in some muggle alley, Draco could recognize these smells, these sensations and sounds, he recognized it since longing hit him, like crashing into a rock. 

¿Maybe he was just dead? ¿Maybe he had gone completely crazy? ¿Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him?

Draco came up with so many possibilities, was he in hell? Was it some kind of punished? Or possibly he was just going through one of those delusions or fever dreams, but there was no way in this forsaken world that Draco Malfoy would ever be in the mansion again. 

Well, regardless of his broken mind, Draco didn't plan to get caught up in the delusions of his now insane brain. He convinced himself that he was going to wake up on the grimy floor anyway, plagued out of sickness and misery, and he opened his eyes.  

“W-what?” He winced at the shrill voice. 

Oh, Draco was definitely crazier than he thought. 

He was in his room, in fact, Draco could see everything. And it was all so real that Draco thought his fucking brain had been the victim of some kind of spell. But everything was extremely real, everything was extremely strange, the night stand, the cup of hot tea in the morning, his wardrobe, the dragon on the wall, the bedsheets, the light, the emerald green pajamas, everything.

Draco could discern even the finest particle of dust being betrayed by the sunlight. No, this was too real to be any dream, illusion, or delusion. 

Draco straightened into position like a spring, he could feel panic gushing out like water in a pipe. And it took him a few seconds to realize that he had fallen into his bed again.

In fact, he had lost his balance. Draco felt a sharp pain through his skull, as if a Muggle bullet had hit him right in the forehead, and then he saw stars, he tried to scream, but couldn't. His entire body ached in a way that Draco qualified as some sequel to the cruciatus curse.

And the pain then disappeared. 

He was unsure, there was no more pain, but Draco felt a strange tingling run through his fingers and he could feel the same tingling in his chest.

It took him another short seconds to realize that he was breathing violently, Draco calmed down, and straightened up again, this time more slowly and managed to get his bare feet on the wood.

Among the familiar sight, Draco recognized the door to his bathroom, walking up to it, felt the strange dizziness that made his fingers trace the rough wall to keep from falling. 

He opened the door weakly, and was surprised when he noticed how soft him fingers were, and how small him hands were.

In fact, his entire body was smaller, Draco had definitely lost height.

Draco looked inside, at the clean, shiny marble walls and tiles. He looked at the silver mirror on the wall in front of the bathtub.

He walked towards him, stealthily and fearfully, his hands and legs were shaking. He expected the dirty, greasy-haired man with the haggard, aged look to look back at him. But it was not like that. 

Instead, it was a boy who stared back at him, he had pointed features and alabaster skin, with silvery-white blond hair, soft and messy, but not tangled.

And that boy was him.

Draco looked at the crimson drop coming out of his nose, it was blood, his nose was bleeding, he wiped it with the back of his left hand. And suddenly, He remembered.

Quickly, Draco awkwardly rolled up the soft fabric of his emerald pajamas, hands ridiculously small and desperate, and gasped as sudden joy hit him.

There was no dark mark. Not the scars from the Incisions that were made to erase it. Neither is the pink hue and wrinkled texture of the burns that was made to hide them. There was only his pale and thin skin, unchanged. 

Draco didn't know what to feel, he was confused and dazed, he could still feel the slight vertigo. This was him, the boy with the beautiful features that Draco had missed so much, it was just him.

And he should be happy, but then why was the only thing he felt was panic and confusion?

"Draco, honey, are you here?" A light, sweet voice called out to him, and Draco had a wave of fear coursing through his heart.

It was his mother, his mother's voice, the woman he had distanced himself from in the war, the last time Draco saw her she had a sore and worn look. And her voice sounded like she'd been screaming for hours, but now, her voice was sweet and soft, and Draco couldn't bear it. 

His mother was standing at the door, looking at him with concern, Draco realized that he was shaking and hyperventilating, but he didn't care, all he saw was his mother, Draco remembered the screams, remembered Bellatrix torturing him until he made him beg. He remembered the times he talked to his mother telling her that he was a prodigy in Oclumency and then entered his head and tortured him over and over again. 

Draco felt arms around him, his mother was hugging him, he could feel the love and warmth go through his body, and it was so sudden that Draco let out a sob, in a shrill and small voice that only a child could produce. He felt a sense of release so strong that Draco almost passed out in his arms.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖉

Chapter Text

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2

𝕳𝖔𝖌𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 𝕷𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗

“Are you sure we can go to Diagon Alley today? Honey, we can go tomorrow if you want.” Narcissa said, her eyes full of concern.

“I'm fine, mother” Draco replied, unsure if the woman he was talking to was his mother or not. “I just had a nightmare.”

Narcissa looked disconcerted, but regardless of that she only hugged him one last time, straightened up, and walked out. 

When his mother's graceful footsteps were no longer heard, Draco fell to his knees.

He gasped, he had no idea what was going on, he had no idea how the hell he ended up here again, if it was just a tragic game of fate or some kind of bad joke, but Draco knew it was all real. 

His mother's soft arms were real, the ground he knelt on was real, he was real. Draco remembered perfectly what day it was, it was the day that he would travel to Diagon Alley with his parents, to get his first year Hogwarts supplies.

But Draco couldn't understand, why, in Merlin's name, was he here again?

Was it some kind of punishment for all his wrongdoings?

Or was it some kind of second chance? 

But before Draco could continue to ramble on, a lean, ungainly figure approached, shaking like a leaf.

“Eh-Young master Malfoy? Is it...Is it okay?” It was Dobby.   

Draco got up immediately, he had completely forgotten about the house elf once he disappeared from the mansion when he was 12 years old, he was simply lost in his past.

It wasn't until he saw him in the living room at his mansion that he went to rescue his precious Harry Potter and his friends, and Draco pushed the memory away, not wanting to even think about what happened that day. 

Dobby's eyes widened in terror. “Oh, I'm so sorry, young master Malfoy, Dobby scared him, Dobby is a bad elf! for scaring the young master, ”and Dobby started to pull his ears to the point that Draco thought he might rip them out. 

“Okay Dobby, stop!” Draco called, and Dobby looked so lost he might as well fall.

“I'm fine, look,” Draco raised his hands and waved them. “Do not punish yourself”

Dobby looked like he was about to burst into tears. “Young master Malfoy has forgiven Dobby, Dobby does not deserve his kindness.” He said, his big eyes already crystal clear.

Draco remembered the memories of his life with Dobby, and felt a deep pity and guilt, Dobby was like his best friend in the years he served him, he was there when his parents left him alone in the mansion and Draco had only been mean and cruel to him.

“Dobby,” Draco knelt to keep up with him. “I... I haven't been the best to you lately, I'm sorry, I order you not to punish yourself any more, Dobby.”  

Draco saw how Dobby walked away from him, as if he were a stranger, it was disconcerting, but then Dobby turned to him, handing him some clothes, Draco already knew what clothes they were, they were the ones he would have to wear, to go Diagon Alley after this Draco nodded, and Dobby left giving him a sweet smile.

When Dobby disappeared, Draco took several seconds to think, or well, minutes.

He had exactly two to prepare to go to Diagon Alley for his utensils at Hogwarts, a full hour to wonder and reason what the fuck was going on, and another to prepare which he divided between a 30 minutes hot bath and another 30 minutes to dress up how his father loved it. (Except for the goddamn gel abandoned by merlin) 

“Maybe a time turner?” Draco thought, but it was impossible.

The time turners only allow you to travel from your own physical body to a specific point, it did not give you back your self from the past, besides the fact that Draco could remember absolutely everything.

Even beyond the horrible memories of Voldemort's tyranny, Draco could remember not only the day he was in, but also his entire life and knowledge. He knew this day should begin with him waking up two hours before, running from his bathroom to his dining room and whining for his parents to take him to get a wand.

But instead, Draco had now woken up with a headache from hell, a bleeding nose and his mother comforting him for a “nightmare.”

But if Draco was going to be trapped in his 11-year-old self again, he had to worry about his magic. 

Draco had studied magical long enough to know that every witch and wizard was born with a magic core, and the core was the most important thing every witch or wizard could have.

According to what he had investigated, the strength and magical capacity of witches and wizards depended on their cores. The core as a muscle that had to be trained to grow, and if it wasn't, then the core would die and the wizard or witch would become a squib.

But Draco kept his memories, and also his knowledge of magic, so he had two possibilities.

One, if the core is still as it was when it was 19 years old, it would have to worry about its physical ability to control its magic. And two, if his core had returned to being like his remembered 11-year-old self, Draco had to worry about a lot of torture to come in regard to his magic training. 

Sure, if his mind remained permanently attached to the body of the child that he was. 

And yes, he had thought of trying to channel the magic with his own hands, however, a wand would be the only thing that would aid him in his task of discovering the state of his core. So his main priority would be to get it. Draco couldn't deny that after being kicked out of wizarding society, he had seriously missed his wand. 

When Draco looked in the mirror again, a part of him expected to see again the sickly dirty man from the miserable alley in muggle London, in a torn tux and stinky, but instead he was still a silver-haired boy, and sharp features.

Draco remembered the people's vice of calling him bastard and breaking his nose when everyone's darn favourite Weasley had done it at the battle of Hogwarts.

Now, he was the young inheritor Malfoy, the most famous and richest of the sacred 28, the most respected child of the purebloods.

And that partly made him happy and sick. 

It was him again, he had everything he had lost, and it made him happy, to see his mother, his father again (although the bastard did not really deserve his happiness.) But Draco had missed them both, and he knew that once it will come down, he was going to see them waiting for him for go diagon alley, and Draco was happy about that.

But it also made him sick because he would have to watch his father talk about the purity of blood again, about why he couldn't to befriend anyone who wasn't Slytherin and pureblood. 

And he knew that was the path of self-destruction that his father had instilled in him.

So if Draco stayed forever in this child's body, then he would do everything he could to repair the mistakes that he knew had to be fixed.

Draco wondered why he felt that way.

It was a strange sensation that he could not describe, the work of knowing exactly what every inch of the mansion was like, and still see himself as an intruder.

Draco walked anxiously, hating the feeling of being chased, the false screams that Draco knew were false but resonated so real in his ears. He could visualize the blood on the walls, the hand marks, small and large, the torn corpses, and he could swear he even smelled rot.

He was just delirious.

Draco reached the dining room, and felt the wave of panic and joy wash over him.

There were his parents, as he remembered them, his mother always so elegant and beautiful, and his father, that anyone other than him, would see him as powerful and cold.

For many years Draco saw his father as his everything, he was the hand that Draco always waited for to be protected, his whole world always revolved around him and Draco always wanted to be like him.

But after seeing how his father had given all that he was, his dignity, his power, his son and his wife, to a soulless bastard reptile, Draco no longer wanted to be like him, even if it was the only thing in the world that he could be.

His mother was in her seat at the table, staring at what Draco remembered was his letter from Hogwarts with pride, while his father had a cup of morning tea and read the newspaper, Draco became familiar.

“Hi honey,” his mother said, Draco don't could still believe he was here again. “Why do not you seat?” He asked, blissfully innocent of what Draco knew about their table.

Draco paled at the thought

Draco could see the people who had died there, he could see his Muggle studies teacher floating, and subsequently being brutally ripped apart, each stretch of skin unnecessarily chewed on by Nagini, their insides being chewed up and blood splattering on their faces, all while Voldemort and the other Death Eaters laughed.

He laughed too, thinking that that would be safe. 

“Draco?” His father called, snapping him out of his thoughts. Apparently, his father's cold and deep voice was still strong enough to bring him back to himself, only now, the reluctantly raised eyebrow that meant the worst, no longer affected him.

Regardless of that, Draco sat back in his chair, and sipped his tea, ignoring the nausea that came from eating at the same table where someone's insides had been chewed up and spit out like rubbish. 

Draco hated the feeling his brain apparently seemed to know about his surroundings. The mansion was warm and welcoming, or at least it was for her body, because it was not for her mind.

He could feel the tension that was generated every time the Dark Lord called his meetings, the terror every time a Death Eater did not meet his expectations.

Then, Voldemort fed them to nagini, allowing them to gut them at his table. And his mother and father were just gesturing for him to laugh, while the damn snake splashed their blood on them. 

Draco had remembered the times he used his Occlumency to escape his reality. 

He remembered the crucios Bellatrix used to put on him, when Draco was finally able to master his Occlumency. The bitch really loved getting into his head so much.

At first Draco convulsed to the point where he simply let her in, then he simply crawled inside until he lost consciousness, remembering waking up on the dirty dungeon floor, unable to get up until Severus or his father cured him. 

His mother never found out.

And Draco preferred it that way, he didn't want his mother to try to kill his aunt because he knew that even though his mother was strong, after all, Bellatrix would dare to use the dirtiest tricks in order to get what she wanted. 

Draco looked at towards his father, and instead of seeing him, he saw Voldemort.

“Shit-

The bastard was smiling at him, in fact, smiling at him, deranged and inhuman. Raising his hands as if he were some kind of savior.

He saw the corpses, the guts, the blood, he saw the bastard Fenrir drew a feast with the Muggles and half-bloods who had been imprisoned in the dungeon, he saw the small limbs and the long ones too, being ripped apart, swallowed and regurgitated all over the ground. 

Draco gulped, he knew it wasn't real, it couldn't be real.

But if it wasn't real, then why was it so alive in his mind? 

He could smell the putrefaction, and see the decaying corpses in the dungeons, those ugly, dark, slimy crimson things. At best, you could discern the chunks of chewed bones in the masses that were the results of the uncompleted digesting processes of a snake, a werewolf, and some other madman. 

It was decadent, disgusting, repulsive and inhuman. 

“Draco, look at the letter” His father said, and Draco hadn't been happier that his voice continued to be cold and harsh enough to affect him and get him out of his broken mind. 

HOGWARTS COLLEGE OF MAGIC AND WIZARDRY

Director: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy .

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please note the equipment list and necessary books. Classes begin on September 1. We hope to see your owl before July 31.

Very cordially,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy director

Uniform.

Freshmen will need:

• Three simple work robes.
• A pointy black hat for everyday wear.
• A pair of protective gloves.
• A winter coat   

Books

All students must have a copy of the following books:

• The Miranda Goshawk Rulebook of Spells
• A History of Magic, Bathilda Bagshot
• Magic Theory, Adalbert Waffling
• Transformations Guide for Beginners, Emeric Switch
• Thousand Herbs and Magic Mushrooms, Phyllida Spore
• Filters and Magic Potions, Arsenius Jigger
• Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Newton Scamander
• The Dark Forces. A Guide to Self-Protection, Quentim Trimble

Rest of the team

• 1 wand.
• 1 pewter cauldron number 2.
• 1 set of glass or crystal flasks.
• 1 telescope.
• 1 brass scale.

Students can also bring an owl, a cat, a rat or a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEAR STUDENTS ARE NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE OWN BROOMS 

“Oh” Draco remembered that this was also the day that he would beg for a new broom and throw a tantrum for not getting it, well, that wouldn't happen again. 

“I hoped you don't think this will be the only thing you'll have,” his father said, and Draco knew exactly what he meant. 

He handed him a list of names of books of all kinds that Draco remembered were from the following years, his father rolled his eyes as Draco made an involuntary face.

“You are a Malfoy, Draco,” he drawled. “You have to always be above everyone else and show that you can be the best that Dumbledore's mediocre study plan can give.”

In itself, Draco no longer cared what he had to learn, after all, he already knew all about those high school plans that his father always planned for him. 

“Well,” his mother said, interrupting them both as she rose from her chair and gave her son a warm smile.

“I guess I'll take him to Diagon Alley then.” 

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖉

Chapter Text

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3

𝕯𝖎𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 𝕬𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖞

Draco took into account that things were turning out just as he remembered them. Or at least up to a point.

His mother and father's argument about who should take him to Diagon Alley was exactly the same. However, before and at the end they both agreed to split things between their father going to Flourish and Blotts for his Hogwarts supplies, his mother to Ollivanders to secure a wand for him, and him going directly to Madame Malkin's to have his robes measured.

Now, his mother had finally won, promising that she would buy him the secondary list and get him a wand sufficiently “up to his expectations” even though Draco knew that would not be possible, One, because the wizard doesn't choose the wand and Two, because his father never liked his wand. 

But he didn't care, he just wanted to have his wand and know how the hell his core was. 

It was simple, there were two options, if Draco was thrown into his 11-year-old self with his memories intact, there was a possibility that it was the same situation for his core as well. 

Or so he hoped, he had no intention of going through the same workouts to strengthen his core again.

When Draco got up from the table to go with his mother to the fireplace (avoiding looking at the table at all costs) she led him through Floo to Diagon and that was how their day should begin. 

Everything was working more or less out according to how Draco remembered, and that comforted him a bit, he would get his wand shortly. 

“Let's get your wand first,” his mother said, as she took him by the hand, leading him toward Ollivanders. 

When Draco entered the shop, he could feel anxiety building up. As if all his emotions were thrown into a cauldron and were about to explode. 

He could see the thousands and thousands of wands arranged, and he only wondered where the hell his was.

“Good morning, Mr. Ollivander,” his mother said, “To get a wand please.”

“Good morning Mrs. Malfoy, and to you too, young Mr. Malfoy.” Ollivander gave Draco a smile, and while Draco knew it was genuine, it wasn't as if Ollivander's withered face didn't scare him.

“Let's see what wand can suit you,” he said, and then headed out to his cellar.  

When Ollivander returned, Draco gulped, he could recognize his wand case even in ashes.

“Try this boy.” He said as he handed it to Draco, and Draco had to suppress the wave of anxiety that told him to get out of the store immediately.

“In hindsight,” Draco thought. “I am the same person, core intact or not, my wand would have to recognize me.”

Draco wrapped his fingers further, raised the wand gracefully and waved it. 

Draco remembered that after shaking it, the lights would light up, the candle fires would rise, and then his mother would brag to his father about how wonderful it was. But it was not like that. 

Instead, nothing happened. 

“Let's try another one.” Ollivander took the wand from his hands, and Draco felt the dizziness that indicated that nothing was right.

Ollivander then returned with another wand, Draco tested it, knowing it wouldn't work and his mother looked at him with concern.

Then Ollivander returned with another, and another, and another until both he and his mother were disappointed, while Draco panicked.

“How much longer is it going to take?” His mother asked, and Draco could hear the notes of anguish in her voice.

“Well Mrs. Malfoy, believe me I am in this situation as much as you are, but there is nothing we can do, it is the wand that chooses its owner, not vice versa, however...” Ollivander shot her a worried look. “You have not wondered maybe that there is a possibility that your son cannot do magic?”

"¿Excuse me?" He and his mother snapped in unison.  

“How can you think that?!” She slurred the words. “Of course he can do magic, he has done accidental magic many times and even used his father's wand and mine!” Ollivander paled.

“Well, there's something else I might be able to use,” the man said as he hurried to his storage.

Draco, on the one hand, did not want to believe that he had lost his magic, it was the most precious thing for him, if he don't have magic, how would he go to Hogwarts? 

No, he definitely hadn't lost his magic.

When Ollivander returned, Draco prayed that the wand he brought was the correct one. He felt uncomfortable, and a bit of hurt because his old wand hadn't recognized him, but at this point, if the most horrible, crooked and smallest wand chose him as its wizard, he would settle for that. He couldn't allow himself to be picky when the veracity of his magic's existence was in jeopardy.

Ollivander appeared with a long and straight case, okay, Draco disliked the crooked and short wands, they were too uncomfortable to use, the case also to the curiosity of him and his mother, it had a carved rune inscription that Draco couldn't recognize it, but judging by the surprised expression of his mother who could read them, Draco thought it would make an interesting wand. 

When Ollivander opened the case, his mother gasped and Draco cursed his short height. And then when Ollivander pulled his wand out of the case, Draco gasped as well. 

It was long and straight, with a round, thin tip, just like the length, black like his father's wand or even more.The wand had majestically carved Victorian engravings on the hilt.

Both he and his mother jaws dropped.

“What is this wand made of?” Draco could now perfectly tell that the false serenity in his mother's voice had been replaced by curiosity.

“40 cm, Elm wood and phoenix feather.”

“Aren't phoenix feathers supposed to be extremely rare?” Draco asked before realizing he had. 

Ollivander smiled at him, “And they are, I only have one left besides this.” He said as he handed it to Draco.

When their fingers hooked, Draco felt the slight tingling on his fingertips.

Well, Regardless of how disproportionate such a long wand looked to be held by such ridiculously small hands, the wand was beautiful, and certainly his father would have a new thing to brag about in front of Mr. Nott and Mr. Parkinson about his son. 

“This wand,” Ollivander spoke before Draco could test it. “It always intrigued me, you know? I remember that I made it in my most manufacturing years of youth, a very wealthy magician brought me not only the elm wood, but also the Phoenix feather and demanded that I make him a wand, he gave me the exact Illustration, as you can see it, and he pay me a lot of money for its manufacturing. When I asked him about where or how he got the feather, he came out angry and told me that he would come for it the following month.” 

“And what happened next?” His mother asked, tracing her fingers over the runes on the box. Draco felt impatience lodge in his fingers, it was as if the wand itself was begging him to use it. 

“Well...when the man came for the wand, he tried to use it, and the wand itself rejected him... I tried to reason with him many times that night, I even remember emptying my cellar so that he could try another wand, but he refused flatly, and said the wand would get used to he in time ...” Ollivander grimaced in anguish.

“I must say that what happened next I didn't expect it, when he tried to cast a spell with it, the wand burned his hand...”

Draco caught his mother's anguished look afterward, then cleared his throat and said, “Why…why did that happen? I have never heard anything similar...” 

“If I'm honest with you, Mrs. Malfoy, I don't even have a proper explanation for that, but as you may know, elm wands are extremely good at not failing, producing the most elegant spells and charms, and they're very good at magic very advanced, but they also demand magicians with innate magical prowess and prestige, and phoenix feathers, well, they make the most difficult wands to tame, and also the most difficult to change allegiances.” Ollivander looked at Draco, and then smiled at him.

“I thought it was normal for this wand to be so picky and demanding with his wizard and with itself, since that day i tried to sell it to all kinds of wizards of the finest houses, in fact, I remember when his grandfather, Mr. Abraxas Malfoy, came here to give his first wand to his father, Lucius Malfoy, I tried to offer it too but like the others the wand reject he.”

“This wand... it was offered to my father...” Draco reasoned.

“If this wand accepts it, well, you should be proud, as it would meet the expectations that this wand seeks in its wizard or witch.” Ollivander held out his hand, signalling for him to use it.

“What could this wand of my son look for?” Said his mother. Draco was already starting to get annoyed at the interruptions.

“Well, I don't know either, each wand has its own personality, Mrs. Malfoy, the more the wizard or witch resembles the wand, the more likely it is that the wand will choose it.”  

When Ollivander finished speaking, he and his mother looked in his direction, waiting for Draco to finally taste it.

“Here we go...” Draco muttered to himself. Draco closed his eyes and brought the wand slowly up to his chest, and then waved in a circle as gracefully as he could.

When he opened them, strands of magic came out of the tip of the wand, silver, thin and shiny that quickly wrapped around him, Draco felt the tingling around his body and imagined his magic pouring over him through the wand, which caused more strands of silver to be released and wrapped around him.

Draco saw his mother and Ollivanders stare in awe, stunned and frozen in position as all sorts of sheets of paper flew through the store. 

Then, he felt the numbness in his hand, it was the signal that he should stop.

When the show ended, Draco smirked at the sight of the papers scattered all over the floor, the ecstatic gaze of Mr. Ollivander and his mother fixing his hair.

“Wow...” his mother said, and Ollivander giggled.

“I've been trying to sell that wand for years, and I was already giving up myself, it's good to see that she has finally found his soul mate, it was a shame to leave such a beautiful wand in that dusty corner.” He gave Draco a smile as he looked at him proudly. 

“Okay... so... how much for the wand?” Her mother asked as she gathered herself.

“Nothing.” Ollivander said as he picked up the multiple sheets of paper on the floor.

“¡¿Nothing?!” They both said in unison. 

“Well-

“How nothing? Do you realize how greedy this wand would be if you announced it to the market? With an extremely coveted core and tide, as well as how beautiful and exaggeratedly detailed it is.” His mother snapped as she glared accusingly at the wizened-faced man who paled in front of both of them. Draco felt a stab of pity for the man.

"Mother, I think he mean that this wand has already been paid for before." Draco spoke with an innocent tone, Ollivander hesitated for a few seconds, but then seemed to understand what Draco tried to say.

“Um-yes, Mrs. Malfoy, in fact, the man who commissioned it to me never let me pay him back. Now, Mr. Malfoy...”

Ollivander gave him one last amused smile. “This wand was here for a long time, looking for a teacher who would meet his requirements, and while it may be challenging to master due to its naturally rebellious phoenix feather core, this wand chosen you for one reason, and it would be very difficult, for not said impossible, for this wand to simply switch to the only wizard that it fits after having been searching for a long, long time.” 

His mother seemed not satisfied with the situation, but there was something else that he knew that his mother had as a priority now, one, they both had wasted a lot of time and two the wand that was lying in his hands was just everything his father wanted to boast about.

So, despite the suspicious look and the long-abandoned serenity, she simply took him by the hand and said a curt thank you to Ollivander as she dragged him out of the store.

“Look at the time we've wasted Draco, do you think you can go alone to Madam Malkin's while I go to Flourish and Blotts for your supplies?” Her mother asked as she looked at the Hogwarts letter in her hand and the secondary list his father had prepared for him

“Yes, mother,” Draco said as he turned his new wand around in his hand, he was curious to know what his new wand was looking for in him.

“Very good,” She smiled at him, hugged him, and headed off to the book store full of parents huddled with their children, maddened to find the books Hogwarts asked of them.

When his mother walked away, Draco took a deep breath, he knew that his day at Diagon was not going to end after a visit to Malkin's, there were still many things to buy, but this would certainly be the most important besides his wand.

Draco breathed again, held it, and then released it after a few seconds, he felt that it would purify his lungs, which were tormented by the memory of the smell of rot and disease that overwhelmed him in the mansion.

On many occasions when the smell and sight of those leftovers that were once people, Draco would go away, being in the mansion was something he could not bear at that time, there was a time when Draco could not bear the agony of stay in the same rooms as others.

Of course, his parents always warned him that he had to, since if it seemed "right" to the dark lord to have them all trapped with a pile of human remains, then so did they.

Even both he and his mother had alleged to clean the cells before bringing the most "important" in political and social terms, so that they could keep them alive as long as the soulless lizard felt they were useful.

And during the day that excuse worked to keep up appearances, but at night it was a totally different story with the Occlumency lessons from Bellatrix. 

That was a completely different story.

Draco shook his head, snapping the memory from his mind when he realized he was starting to breathe violently.

Now he had to focus on Harry damn Potter.

Well, technically it wouldn't be the first time they'd met, since Draco already did, but Harry didn't. Draco remembered the first time they spoke, in the words of the Potter himself that everyone loved, "He had been nothing but a pompous and conceited idiot."

Although Draco had not thought so, he even ignored the fact that it was Harry Potter to try to have a normal conversation with the bastard after a lot of fans praised him. But from what he understood, Harry Potter had been raised by a family of half-bloods who had taught him all about Hogwarts, after all he had to be the wizard who turned dust to the Dark Lord, not some filthy, gangly child whose glasses barely if they could be held up with duct tape.

If anything, Draco had labelled their relationship unhealthy. The saviour of the wizarding world had always been completely obsessed with Draco, and Draco was always obsessed with the idea of making his life hell.

Maybe now their relationship could be different.

If only for the interest of keeping him and his parents away from the bastard who had lost his sanity long before he lost his nose. 

Because, despite everything, at this moment Harry was not the man who had the wizarding world at his mercy for having defeated the Dark Lord, he was the malnourished 11-year-old boy in dirty and loose clothes whose glasses could barely be held together with tape adhesive.

Draco tucked his wand into the long pocket of his cool cloth pants and walked into the store.

Mrs. Malkin who was measuring with annoyed a boy with black hair and dirty and loose clothes looked at him and smiled at him.

“Come, come dear!” She said, “I'm almost done with this young man.” And Draco gulped, the black-haired boy looking at him in the mirror nervously.

Draco took into account that the first time he had been the one who looked at the boy with dusty black hair and dirty and ragged clothes in the mirror, but he had wasted a lot of time on Ollivanders and besides, Harry hadn't got his wand before him? 

“And they are, I only have one left besides this.” 

Draco walked over, climbed onto the small platform, and stood next to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed that the boy smoothed down his fringe to cover the scar that Draco knew was there. He bit back a laugh when he caught him looking at him, and he just looked away in shame, Merlin, was this the boy who survived a murderous curse and grew up to kill the dark lord?

Draco looked at him, blinking in false innocence at the shock the other boy got when he looked at him.

“Hogwarts too?” He asked, and the other boy gave him a nervous, curved smile.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖉

Chapter Text

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 4

𝕰𝖑𝖒 𝖂𝖆𝖓𝖉

“Eh-um... yeah” Said the black-haired boy while shrugging nervously.

“Dammit, Potter, can't you see that I'm trying to get to know you?”

Draco rolled his eyes and groaned. Was that child the Savior of the wizarding world?

The boy turned in embarrassment, okay, maybe that wasn't Draco's best move. “You know,” he added quickly, “Getting your supplies is always such a late process.” 

The black-haired man looked nervously, but Draco noticed the curiosity. “Well...” He spoke. “Hagrid is the one who's buying my stuff...”And then he shrugged again.

“Hagrid... ummm, Ah! I've heard of him, he's the school's housekeeper, right?” Draco spoke, in a fake, childish voice. Which seemed to work, the black-haired boy's eyes lit up. “Yes it's him!” 

“Oh,” Draco inclined his head, with a false innocence that he knew perfectly well to reply.

“Have I told you about Hogwarts houses?” Judging by the way the black-haired boy tensed, it was obvious that he hadn't.

“There are four houses,” Draco looked up at Mrs. Malkin, ignoring the slight grimace of disgust and pity he made to the black-haired boy. “Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff, or whatever order you want it to be.” He wave his hand dismissively. “As we are freshmen, we have an initiation in which something called "The Sorting Hat" read our minds and memories to know what house to put us in.” Draco paled, remembering the damn hat reading minds.

“So does that mean they'll put me in one of those four?” Asked the black-haired boy.

“Yes, you see, they put you according to the characteristics or virtues that you share with the house. Gryffindor for courage and bravery, Hufflepuff for fair and loyal, Ravenclaw for wise and intelligent, and Slytherin for cunning and ambitious, I hope to be in Slytherin.” Draco finished.

“Of course I'm staying in Slytherin,” Draco reasoned. “There is no way that hat will put me in another house.”

“I don't know which house to stay in.” Said the black-haired boy, sounding slightly concerned, “What if I don't have any of the qualities?” He looked at Draco in anguish.

“Normally that doesn't happen, but if it happens, usually the hat puts you in the house you choose.” Draco said, that seemed to ease him a bit.

How the hell are you worried? You are the saviour of the fucking magical world.

“Did you get your things?” Draco asked, emphasizing his wand.

“Hagrid went to a store called Flourish and Blotts for my books, but I don't have my wand yet.” Said the black-haired boy.

“And why is that?” Draco asked with mock curiosity, he knew why.

“Umm... someone else was looking for his wand when I got there, Hagrid said it might take a while, so he told me to come here in the meantime.” Mrs. Malkin finally finished measuring the black-haired boy, leaving the two of them alone.

“Oh.” Draco said again, this time with false guilt. “I think I could be the reason.”

The black-haired boy's eyes widened like saucers. “Why?”

“Well...” Draco adjusted the high neck of the black jumper he was wearing. “Wands choose their hands, and they have their own personalities that are the product of the wood and the core of which they are made.”

“So that means I have to wait for a wand to pick me, right?” The black-haired boy completed, Draco nodded. “The more you look like the wand, the easier it will be for it to choose you.” 

“So if you've already left the store, does that mean you already have your wand?”

“Do you want to see it?” Draco smirked, and before the boy answered, he pulled out his new wand, giggling when the other gasped.

“Is...” the black-haired boy swallowed. Unable to speak

“Do you think mine will be like this too?” The black-haired boy finally asked, embarrassment evident in his voice.

Draco nodded.

“I... I don't know,” Draco admitted. “But regardless of that, I think the wand you'll get would be amazing.” That, in part, was true.

“Do you believe?” The other boy asked incredulous.

Draco nodded, shortly after Mrs. Malkin returned, bringing the other boy's robes into the process.

The other boy got off the small platform looking at Draco sadly, and before he could leave the store, “Wait!” Draco yelled, getting down too and running towards the boy.

Draco pointed his long wand at the broken and faded glasses. “Oculus reparo.” Silver strands spilled from the tip of his wand, quickly repairing the cracks and attaching the little screws, by the time he was done, the glasses looked brand new. 

The black-haired boy looked in amazement and incredulity, turning his glasses, looking for the old imperfect damages, short seconds later the boy looked at Draco with glassy eyes.

“They are like new!” He said, with a smile that made Draco's heart swell, and he walked out, not saying his name even though it wasn't necessary.

When Draco finally returned to the mansion, all things were different.

Before, when Draco and his parents came back from shopping, the conversation he had with them was mainly why he couldn't have a Quidditch broom as a freshman and how ordinary his wand was.

Now, his father was the one who was waiting for him and his mother in front of the fireplace, without making the slightest effort to hide his obvious annoyance. 

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” 

His mother snorted. “We had a slight problem at Ollivander.”

“What do you mean with that?”

His mother looked at him, giving him an amused smile. “Show him your wand, Draco.”

Draco hurried over. Drawing his wand as black as darkness itself, with the majestically carved Victorian engravings on the hilt that made Draco's sense of taste explode, the long without any curvature, and the round fine point.

His father looked up with eyes of wonder that made Draco feel happy, for some reason, and Draco pushed the emotion away, feeling deeply stupid.

His father had only looked at him like this once in his miserable life, the time he discovered that Draco was good enough at Occlumency to fool Voldemort, and good enough at Legilimilance to enter him without he realized.  

“Your wand is...” Her mother interrupted. “Special.” And smiled.

Draco, as time passed, realized several things. 

One, his core was more than intact, not only had he returned with him, but he seemed more healed, even in the body of a child.

Of course, he noticed it when he was doing the advanced spells in his Father's books, which made him feel good on one side and bad on the other.

In his old life... If it could call it that, Draco's magic to his 11-year-old self, according to his father, was mediocre for a Malfoy. His father had ranted before about his magic is being weak, and he just stopped caring which spells Draco learned and which he didn't.

And now it had been the same, only it bothered Draco that, now with the perfect means to prove to him that even Draco was now more powerful than him, he just wouldn't believe it.

And every time Draco woke up in his soft bed, waiting to wake up still in the dirty muggle alley, Draco just trained his magic and investigated to be sure. 

He had stumbled across several books until, on the 30th of August, as the house elves hurried to pack their things, Draco came across a book on magical medicine that spoke about wizard cores. By that time Draco thought it was unnecessary to go into details, he had even conjured with Avis silver birds were lying flying in circles above his head, majestically adorning him room as he read, but curiosity killed him.

“The core of a wizard or witch is not only what allows him to do magic, magic is something that can be found everywhere. However, it is the magical core of each wizard or witch that allows them to have their own magic, channel it, and even more. The size of the nucleus can be measured according to how complex the spells are, and it is known thanks to studies that the nucleus is something linked to the soul of the wizard or witch, it is an extremely fundamental part.”

That means that his soul had been thrown into the past, his 11-year-old self, and he had replaced the soul of his past self with his future self, so it made sense that his core was intact.

With that, Draco also reasoned about why his old wand had not recognized him as his wizard, and that was because Draco was no longer the boy that that wand would have to recognize as his master, as his soul mate, Draco was powerful, and he knew it, he needed a powerful wand.  

But, that had also led him to something else.

Draco already knew, or had deduced that he had some kind of trauma, had considered it after the countless times when he felt the smell of rottenness and evil overwhelm him, or the painful gory and ghoulish images damaging his sanity every time it passed for certain zones. But Draco was so lost in his training and research that he ridiculously forgot.

Draco knew from what he remembered that on August 31st he would be alone, before his Parents returned from their meeting with the Notts.

Poor and innocent, the blond wandered aimlessly through the mansion avoiding all the rooms that he knew would overwhelm him, but got lost, feeling the strange turn of his stomach every time he walked through the jumble of passageways.

And somehow, and like some bloody cruel and crappy joke, Draco ended up in the same room where his precious aunt had tortured Granger. 

Draco felt a sudden tug on his hand, something told him he had to get out of there, and Draco tried, but couldn't.

In fact, he couldn't move.

His legs locked into position, and Draco tried to push away the wave of fiery memories that was suddenly coming toward him, but for some reason he couldn't.

The whole room began to smell of putrefaction, Draco felt the vertigo and the urge to vomit, and the images of his aunt torturing his fellow Hogwarts. Draco could hear his aunt's maniacal laughter as he ran the knife across Granger's skin, the screams of raw, agonizing pain. 

He felt electricity run through his fingertips, he tried to react.

But now Draco could only see himself, it was him, on the dirty floor, bloody and sick. His Aunt Bellatrix tortured him in the same way, writing traitor with the poisoned tip, atrophying the skin by cutting until there was nothing left, but the words engraved and flooded with blood. Every time he cleaned the cells and healed the wounds of his prisoners, he was punished.

Draco felt dizzy, the sharp pain in his chest finally took him out of his thoughts, and it was easy for him to identify the violent breathing, the poor oxygen supply was taking its toll. 

Draco fell to his knees on the cold ground and witnessed his own vision turning painfully black, he felt a sudden cold and a feeling of swoon so raw that panic erupted.

He had experienced that feeling before, he was about to pass out.

But the sudden heat from his fingers grew strong, almost burning, and Draco gasped as a sudden wave of warm peace hit him violently, it was a loving and friendly feeling, it felt exactly the same as when he woke up in his 11-year-old self again.

Somehow the cold bloody floor became soft and warm, the smell of death dissipated and Draco felt all his muscles being forced to relax.

His chest stopped aching, his breathing returned to normal, and Draco was suddenly relieved, a strange sense of peace that entered from his fingertips, spread up his arm, and invaded his entire body. Draco looked down, searching for the reason for the sudden embracing calm.

It was his wand.

For hours (minutes, seconds, Draco didn't really know) he was watching, feeling the strange magic enter inside him and calm him, there were no strands of shiny silver wrapping him, no wind, it was just him and his wand, transferring the undeserved calm to his shattered mind.

Draco decided that he loved this wand very much. 

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕰𝖓𝖉. 

Chapter Text

 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 5

𝕯𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖉

Draco took a deep breath when he had finally reached the lake, somehow Draco had got over seeing any of his old friends and Harry on the train.

Well, for the most part, it was because Draco asked to get to the Hogwarts express earlier, and then just finished and got into a compartment and closed the windows, as well as putting on a wandless blocking spell. (He had decided that it was better to practice his wandless magic as well)

Away from everything and everyone, Draco stayed that way, and when someone asked to come in, he just waited without answering until they left.

For one thing, Draco certainly couldn't see his old friends in the eye.

He couldn't see Vincent after seeing him die that day in the room of necessities, or Blaise, after seeing him in San Mugo, or Greg, who left once he had the chance to make it to Merlin knows where, or Theo, who was killed by an Auros raid, or Pansy, who was brought into Azkaban.

And Draco couldn't see Harry Potter and sit next to him either, knowing that he would probably be sitting next to the ever-damned Weasley and probably as soon as he saw him he would talk to him about how awful he and his family are, and then Harry would look down on him once. One more time and everything would have gone to shit.

Draco just couldn't see their faces, he wasn't confident that he will survive without a panic attack, and in fact the thought of it had overwhelmed him considerably, yet Draco just plunged it all into a sea of Occlumency that he himself believed, and then he used the time to rebuild their shields.

Or maybe more, Draco couldn't really trust what his head would show him to the damn hat, and he certainly couldn't afford to panic that the hat would call him "Imposter of the future!" in the middle of the great dining room.

So, Draco decided that when he got overwhelmed he would just push all of that into that sea of Occlumency, and he would submerge there until everything calmed down, he also decided to strengthen his shields more, well, more he moulded them, turned them into iron walls and wrapped them on skewer, furthermore, Draco also created weapons, created extremely sharp swords and daggers, to knock out and shatter the mind of anyone who would try to enter, he was not going to allow it, never again. 

And then there was his wand, although Draco made himself inseparable from his wand, he certainly couldn't allow anyone else to use it either, because after Ollivander, Draco was completely sure that letting someone use his wand would end in disaster.

So Draco had survived, the train and everyone, if he were lucky, he wouldn't have to talk to anyone until they classified him.  

Draco ignored the gasps and screams of all the first years as they approached in the direction of the glittering castle, Draco had seen the structure many times before, but now its core was mature enough that Draco could see beyond simple beauty that enveloped the castle.

Draco analysed the magic that he could perceive from a distance from the lake, indeed, Hogwarts was coiled and steeped in magic in its purest form. Hogwarts was more or less a structure created based on magic, which also housed its own magic and was sustained with the magic that the founders, heads of houses, Directors and deputy directors provided, as well as the stones and runes that were placed around it, in certain parts of the terrain. Draco was no fool, he knew that the castle was not in itself a structure with a life of its own, but it was made of magic, and all the spells used for the castle and its surroundings as protections, were maintained thanks to that magic.  

But Draco knew that he would have to face his worst fears, once he got off the ship, or not, he didn't know if putting himself under a disillusionment spell was a good idea or not, after all, first-yeafirst-years were not could do that kind of magic.

But then Draco was out of the ship, Pansy and Vincent were closing in on him now, and Draco could feel the wave of panic rush against him, the memories of the room of supplies returned once more and invaded his mind, but no He could lose his calm, not now, then he reached into the pocket of his robe, feeling his wand and Draco felt the familiar tingle on his fingers, coming to his senses and just plunged everything into his head.

“Draco!” Pansy yelled, as she lunged at him. “Where the hell were you and why weren't you with us?” She said, with a worried look that might or might not be genuine.

“Theo, Blaise, and Greg have been looking for you since the train,” Vincent said, and Draco felt the heat of the fiendfyre sink beneath his skin. “Where were you?”

“Long story,” Draco said simply, then McGonagall appeared before anyone could ask any further.

She led the students to the front staircase, where the great hall would open and Draco would see and hear everyone scream and smile at the enchanted ceiling and the phantoms.

Then Draco could see Harry behind him, smiling at him, and Draco felt terribly missed, none of these things had happened before. But regardless of that, Draco just smiled back, ignoring Ron's indignant gaze and the confused looks from the surrounding boys.

But before anyone could ask, or in Ron's case, speak out loud "Why the hell did you smile at Malfoy?" The doors to the great room opened, and Draco felt the sensation of déjà vu envelop him as gasps of amazement flooded the place.

He could see the familiar ceiling at night, with the stars and planets, in addition to the atmospheric spells carefully placed in that night's cape, Draco noticed the thin golden strands of magic wrap around each of the candles, and the golden fire that they were lit on the wicks of the enchanted candles.

He could see the ghosts circling the tables, and the looks and smiles from everyone around him, Draco examined the stone on the walls and pillars, feeling puzzled to notice for the first time that the Hogwarts infrastructure seemed to be from the days of the castles of yesteryear.

McGonagall, ignoring everything around her, led the freshmen through the tables, the star ceiling, and the stone floor.

She lightly repeated the information about the selection process, and then unrolled the long scroll once more.

Meanwhile, Draco tried to focus on the surrounding whispers, vaguely aware of the Slytherins talking about him, all Draco wanted was to stop feeling Harry's gaze burn the back of his neck, and Snape's gaze burn his face.

Snape.

Before the memories flooded his head, Draco shoved everything deep, and he undid it as hard as he could, so much so that he might even drown.

He couldn't lose his cool now, not now, in front of all of Hogwarts. 

McGonagall started to call out, and Draco waited silently as the children trotted off, one by one nervous or anxious and some stumbling toward the worn wooden stool as the hat worked its magic of breaking into someone's head and screaming a house.

“Granger Hermione!” 

McGonagall called, Draco felt several memories come back to his mind, and he pushed them again, as the girl moved to the stool.

She put the hat on Hermione head, Draco saw the cloth face tighten and then heard the cry of “GRYFFINDOR!” before the whole great hall began to applaud.

She got off the stool and Draco could see the small poof of insecurity in his eyes disappear, turning into a slight smile, she sat on the left side of the table behind Draco's back, and the selection process resumed once more. 

McGonagall resumed her call again, then some of her friends like Pansy, Theo and Blaise had already taken Slytherin once, before reaching Neville, that Draco would know that his moment on the stool would be just as humiliating as before; Shaky legs, tripping lightly on the stool and a shrunken, shrill little squeak when the hat said Gryffindor.

And so it was, and Draco wondered if that was the Neville Longbottom that would cut off Nagini's head and destroy the Hogwarts bridge in the future.

Then the hat hummed “Ummm” before yelling “GRYFFINDOR!” one more time, and Neville jumped off the stool, in the least graceful way possible.

“Malfoy Draco!”

Draco had been rambling contemplating the weaves of the spells in the candles that kept them enchanted when he was called, then realizing he was walking without thinking, he straightened and sat up, and swallowed once McGonagall began to put on the sorting hat in his head.

He'd braced himself for this, of course, even with his starry white locks across his forehead elegantly and half covering his damn sight, eyes straight ahead, expressionless face, and just giving the childish grin that Draco knew he could create perfectly once he did hat yelled Slytherin. 

Draco felt the push, the consciousness of the hat itself was trying to enter, its barriers were raised and the spiked ropes that were carefully tangled in them tightened, and the swords and daggers that Draco had wired to keep his mind protected quickly rose up, armed.

“Wow!” The hat said out loud, and both McGonagall and some children near the stool jumped.

“Boy, you have to let me in,” the hat on his head reasoned. “How else am I going to classify you?”

“You have to put me in Slytherin,” Draco thought, he knew perfectly well that the hat could hear him.

“I am designed for this, I will enter your head one way or another, only it will be painful for you,” said the hat on his head. “And 11-year-old wizards and witches don't normally have enough Occlumency knowledge, you know that, right?”

Draco tensed at that.

He considered it for a few seconds, then lowered his barriers and carefully slowly disarmed the swords and daggers, letting the hat enter and slip through his mind.

A long chill ran down his spine, the memories of his past life and his present life came back to him.

“Oh!” The hat said aloud. “So much experience...”

“I had not seen a time traveller many years ago.” The hat wander from the memories.

“No one can know! You understand? Nobody!” Draco hissed at his own thoughts. “You can't tell anyone, or I promise you'll end up in a muggle costume shop on some discount shelf!”

Then the hat gasped out loud, but laughed in his head at the same time, humour clear in his laugh.

“Take it easy, boy,” the enchanted cloth hat hummed loudly. “Your secrets are saved with me.”

“Put me in Slytherin at once!” Draco hissed in his head.

“You have the mind of a Slytherin...” The hat said loud and clear, and the Slytherin table was filled with predatory smiles. “But you also have the heart of a Gryffindor.”

Then the whole great room was filled with gasps, whispers and surprised looks.

“¡¿What the hell are you talking about?!” Draco almost screamed out loud.

“You have the mind of a Slytherin, the cunning, the grace, the knowledge and the power, you are stronger than an seventh year wizard could be, and you have been bold enough to keep this secret hidden, deep within that mind.”

“But likewise, you have a Gryffindor heart, you took the courage to carry this secret on your own, even knowing how difficult it will be, and you want to change and save what you lost before, what was taken from you and what you never had, but what could you have.” Said the hat in his head.

“I'm a Slytherin, you can't put me in Gryffindor, Slytherin is my home!” Draco could feel the waves of panic bubbling up.

“You have a Slytherin mind, but that doesn't mean your house should be Slytherin,” the hat corrected. “And considering you were in Slytherin before, and it didn't turn out so well...”

“No! No no no! You can not—

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Draco looked in Severus's direction, he could see the look of surprise he had never seen or would see again in his life, wide eyes and a slight o on his lips, a totally silent gasp.

Then he looked at McGonagall, she was just as surprised, but she was smiling from ear to ear, as was Harry, a deathly sweet smile, and next to him the incredulous look of Ron Weasley.

Draco looked at the Slytherin table, most of them had looks of total surprise, but Pansy, Blaise, Theo and Vincent had a shocked and horrified look.

Greg was the only one of all the others who looked at him with sadness and pity, and Draco hated pitying looks.

Then the whispers and vague exclamations began, Draco could hear a “There has never been a Malfoy in Gryffindor...” from the Hufflepuff table, he could hear the “It's strange,” and “Dark wizards go in Slytherin...” from the Ravenclaw table, he could hear the “It must be a shame,” from the Slytherin table, and the “What is a Malfoy doing at our house?” From some Gryffindor third-year students.

Then the applause began, most out of pity, others out of forced courtesy, and the Slytherin table never applauded.

Draco got off the stool and walked slowly in the direction of the first and farthest chair, which was actually in front of Hermione's, and Draco completely avoided looking at her.

How had this happened?

He was a Slytherin, the same hat had told him he had the mind of a Slytherin.

Draco couldn't be a Gryffindor, he just kept a damn secret, he was a Slytherin, he survived by being a Slytherin, that's the whole truth.

What were his parents going to do now?

The Malfoys' place was supposed to be in Slytherin, all of their ancestors who studied at Hogwarts were Slytherin, and Draco could taste his father's disappointment on his tongue.

Because he cared about his father? Because he cared, after all? He was going to be a disappointment anyway.

But all the Malfoys had been to Slytherin, and Slytherin and Gryffindor had an eternal rivalry.

Being from Gryffindor was betraying his family, his customs, betraying the Slytherins and above all in some way betraying himself.

“Are you OK?”

Draco heard a voice shake him, he looked in the direction of the voice, Granger had called out to him, and Draco noticed that he was sharply exhaling, then suddenly all of it, the surrounding room started to get sharp, shiny and small, too small, there were many people around him. 

Draco shook his head sharply, muttered a weak “I'm fine,” and then reached into his pocket quickly, his sleeve rolling up in the process.

The familiar tingling ran through his fingers, Draco could the sudden waves of peace indulge his senses, then he submerged everything in his sea of Occlumency, everything, he imagined it as ships, being swept away by gigantic waves, sinking deep where no one could get it out, where no piece the remaining ships could float to the surface. Draco deeply drowned every overwhelming feeling, dragging him deep into the sea, and wanted to drown with them. 

“Draco,”

Draco blinked once more, for a short second he felt completely drenched.

Then, sitting next to him was Greg, with the Gryffindor shield on his chest.

“They put you in Gryffindor too.” Draco said simply, and Greg nodded.

Part of Draco was relieved that he had dragged Greg with him, another part felt pity, confirming his suspicions that the hat only put him in Slytherin because Draco went there then.

“Look on the bright side,” Greg said, and Draco suppressed the sudden urge to roll his eyes. “At least we're not in Hufflepuff.” 

Then the hat screamed “GRYFFINDOR!” Again, and Draco glanced at Ron Weasley walking in the direction of the table, sitting right next to Hermione and giving her a childish look, Draco completely ignored him.

Before anyone could speak, McGonagall called out “Potter Harry!” And all the room was filled with whispers, exclamations and compliments to the Boy-Who-Lived.

Then the hat was put on his head, he spoke, saying what Draco remembered was the poor pretend attempt to put him in Slytherin much to his dismay, and then yelled “GRYFFINDOR!” again, the whole great hall was filled with applause and shouts.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖉

Chapter Text

 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 6

𝕾𝖑𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓 𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖉, 𝕲𝖗𝖞𝖋𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖗 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙

“You have the mind of a Slytherin, the cunning, the grace, the knowledge and the power, you are stronger than an seventh year wizard could be, and you have been bold enough to keep this secret hidden, deep within that mind. But likewise, you have a Gryffindor heart, you took the courage to carry this secret on your own, even knowing how difficult it will be, and you want to change and save what you lost before, what was taken from you and what you never had, but what could you have.”

The hat's words were there, fresh in his mind, Draco couldn't feel anything any more, he had drowned out every feeling or emotion, but they were still there, floating into his head. 

Draco looked in the direction of the boy cowering next to him, Gregory Goyle was at his side, barely absorbed by the whispers and glances from everyone around him.

Draco, on the other hand, was unfazed, he had been thrown into the public eye since he was born, he didn't even care any more.

But, of course, his father did.

As much as Draco hated the idea of trying to satisfy the delusional expectations of his father's midlife crisis, whose attempts hadn't worked in his old life, and probably not in this one either, Draco was 11 years old again, there was nothing to do with it could do about it.

And if Draco knew something, it was that in addition to being in Gryffindor, the only sin worse would be that his father would find out by other means than him, he had learned a long time ago that if his father had to know about him, he had than to know through it. It was one of the life lessons he had learned from his father.

And another was that no matter how good or perfect Draco did something, his father would find the perfect way to rant about it, and if it weren't for the fact that shaming Draco with a howler was the same as shaming the entire lineage of Malfoy, Draco would have a howler.

He could save himself the embarrassment that only a Weasley could go through, at least for now.

But not everything could be rosy. It was one thing not to meet some old-fashioned Malfoy standard, but being in Gryffindor when his entire family had been alone in Slytherin was something else, if Draco wasn't terribly distraught and confused about it, it would probably be seen as a betrayal.

He had to send his father a letter as soon as he got the perfect opportunity to do so. 

Almost half an hour had passed since Dumbledore had finished his speech, and the great dining room was filled with empty trays, Draco sneaked a look at the people at his table, most of them looking at him with surprised looks, others suspicious and others disconcerted.

And of course, since he and Greg had turned to the opposite side of the damn red table, Harry Potter was looking at him from the other end, with a sad look, as Ron Weasley told him who knows what about his family and why Harry don't could trust him.

Draco had barely eaten an apple when the Prefect, who to his dismay had to be another Weasley, called the first years to show them the way to Gryffindor Tower, straight to their common room.

While Draco would miss the Slytherin common room, he had heard that one of Gryffindor's short advantages was the views, for everything else Draco just had to survive the red hell.

Dumbledore rose from his chair as the prefects approached the tables, then Draco remembered the damn song.

“And before we go to bed!” Dumbledore exclaimed, and the smiles of all the teachers became forced, except for Snape, who was more of a grimace of pure hatred. “Let's sing the song of the College!”

Then Dumbledore's wand released a series of golden threads that soon became words. “Let everyone choose the melody they want,” Dumbledore said, then the great hall was filled with the song that Draco had gleefully sung the first time, when he had been classified into Slytherin and was blissfully unaware of the future that followed.

When the sounds of the joyous voices chanting finally subsided, the words disappeared, the students stood up from their tables, and Draco remained without saying a single word.

“Ah, the music, a magic beyond everything we do here!” Dumbledore wiped away a few unshed tears. “And now, it's time to go to bed! Let's go!“

Quickly the first years huddled into boisterous groups, as they followed Percy, Greg and Draco will fall behind everyone, and Draco blessed the fact that Ron seemed to be taking too much of Harry's attention.

The group left the large dining room, walked down the stairs. The children walked in the direction of the communal table, following Percy through two or so doors, Draco was unfazed as the portraits began to whisper as the children passed through the hallways, up a few more stairs and then stopped suddenly. 

Draco didn't have to hear Greg's gasp to realize that several sticks were floating around the group of children, one of them lunged right at Percy, and actually hit him.

The Weasley snorted, annoyed. “Gryffindors, let me introduce you to Peeves, he's a Poltergeist—he turned in the direction of the sticks—Peeves appears!”

Then the repulsive sound of a deflated balloon spread through the place, and echoed in Draco's ears.

Draco cursed as he remembered that one of Slytherin's many privileges was that Peeves didn't bother them, thanks to the bloodthirsty baron protecting them from Peeves' always ill-intentioned craps.

“Do you want me to go find the bloodthirsty baron?” Percy snapped.

The sudden snap rang out, the sufficiently materialized figure of a badmouthed little man and ghoulish grin appeared.

“Oh!” Peeves moaned mockingly. “Silly newbies, it's so much fun!” Peeves gave a cacophonous laugh, waving his canes, looked with a macabre look at the group of children and threw the canes, Draco saw one of the canes heading straight for Greg, quickly dodging his, he pushed the other boy to the ground and the cane brushed against him head.

This seemed to upset the ghost of chaos, Draco could hear Peeves snort in anger when he saw that he had foiled his joke, then the canes piled in the direction of Draco and Greg, this time with more speed.

Draco's hand shot straight into his wand, he didn't even know when he'd pulled it out of his pocket, and before he could even think about it, he yelled: “¡Protego!”

The circle shield reflected the light once the canes hit the magic surface, bouncing back and forth sharply, and one of them collided with such force against the stone walls that it ended up breaking.

Short gasps of astonishment came from everyone's mouth, including the prefect himself. Peeves lunged back abruptly, clearly surprised that a wizard who had just been classified could produce such a strong spell.

Shit. 

Draco quickly shoved his long wand into his pocket (which had probably already caught the attention of several who had a chance to see it) and straightened up, glaring in Peeves' direction with the childish fury of a tantrum and ignoring the stares and whispers to his around, especially those of Harry, Weasley and Granger.

Peeves pulled himself together and just before he could retrieve his walking sticks again, Percy snapped. “It's enough Peeves, or the baron will be here, I mean it!”

Then Peeves made a wet sound with his tongue, and with another click, it was gone.

Of course, not before launching the rest of the sticks blindly, which fell directly on Longbottom.

“You have to be very careful with Peeves, only the bloodthirsty baron keeps him at bay, he doesn't even listen to the prefects.” Percy said as they resumed their walk. At the end of the hall hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

“Password?” She asked.

“Caput draconis,” Percy said, and the portrait swung forward like a door and revealed a round hole in the wall. They all crowded past (Neville needed help, as his robe got stuck between the portrait) and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room; a round and cosy room, full of comfortable armchairs, or that was what a common Gryffindor would think, as soon as the uneven colours were mixed with red and gold in the most uneven way possible, Draco was already thinking about escaping and begging Snape to let him be in the Slytherin common room.

Percy led the girls through one door, into their bedrooms, and the boys through another door. At the end of a spiral staircase (it was evident that they were in one of the towers) they finally found their beds, five beds with four posts each and dark red velvet curtains, their trunks were already there, and Draco desperately wished his trunk wasn't Slytherin green and had the glorious "M" for Malfoy, knowing that would relate him.

Without any intention of talking, Draco put on his pyjamas as quickly as he could, Greg did the same and they both lay down on their beds. Draco closed the curtains and put a blocking spell on them, followed by a silencing spell, and tried to sleep from the moment his eyes were forced shut.

Unfortunately for Draco, the thought that “Saving Greg from Peeves' attack wasn't very Slytherin of you,” haunted him until he heard the giggles and murmurs from his other roommates, Draco decided he had no intention of deal with the annoying glances and whispers from Weasley and Seamus, and Harry's innocent gaze as he realized that, with Draco awake, he could talk to him.

So he just choked out the thought and fell asleep.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖉

Chapter Text

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 7 

ℌ𝔬𝔴𝔩𝔢𝔯𝔰

By th time the stretches of consciousness returned to him, the sun was just beginning to glimmer through the morning clouds, the only children awake where him and Greg, and Draco really didn't know if it was a good idea to stay and wait. 

For one thing, if Rita Skeeter had shown up in his room to interrogate him about being the first Malfoy to be in Gryffindor and betraying his family's loyalty to Slytherin, the word "numb" was vague. 

Sure, he would certainly have to speak in a toddler's eye, a tantrum of utter frustration and self-loathing, but as for his true emotions, he couldn't really say that he was frustrated at being in Gryffindor. 

He hated the red and gold, it didn't contrast at all with himself, it wasn't really his house and considering he seemed to have the magical ability of a seventh year student, he missed the green and silver of his Slytherin, and in inverted commas "missed" his relationship with his friends/political allies. 

On the other hand, Draco couldn't even really say he cared about his parents any more, his mother couldn't really hate him, and his father wouldn't disown him if he showed he was feeling frustrated, angry and tired, hopefully they might even re-select him for Slytherin, though that sounded vague. 

He had transfigured his and Greg's uniforms a long time ago, his royal owl had already taken off in the direction of the manor and, though it took all the willpower a human could muster, he managed to put on his uniform and cower in the farthest most forgotten corner of his common room, horrible common room. 

Now he would just have to wait, for an answer, and as soon as he finished processing his bad luck, he would head straight for the Potions room, where he would throw a tantrum at Snape about how he hated being in Gryffindor. 

The crackle of flames was distant in Draco's mind, then the figure of Gregory loomed over him, Draco remembered that, when they were in Slytherin, Greg was the only person besides him who got up early a lot.

Draco wouldn't lie, he felt a bit sad, certainly Greg would be the only friend he could afford and vice versa, they were still snakes after all, the damn hat had made sure the whole school knew that Draco Malfoy seemed to be some kind of abomination between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

“Hi,” Greg said simply, just like Draco, he was already wearing his robes. He sat down while the common room began to fill with other people, three actually, the first was Hermione Granger accompanied by Lavender Brown who was whispering to her who knows what about him, and the other was Percy Weasley, who was still looking at him with confusion and consternation.

Of course, he was going to, it was Weasley, obviously.

“H-Hmm, have you already written a letter to your parents?” Greg asked beside him, he had a scroll in his hand.

Draco knew where this was going.

“Do you want me to write a letter to your parents about how horrible it is to be in Gryffindor?” Draco asked, arching an eyebrow, Greg looked at him wide-eyed as he gave him a sheepish smile.

Well, it certainly wasn't the first time Draco had written letters posing as Vincent and Greg, at least not for him.

Then Greg handed him the parchment and Draco pulled out his expensive quill, dipping it in ink, wrote in cursive handwriting, twisting it to the left to look like Greg's, and then handed it to him.

“It's good,” Greg gasped, frowning at words he probably didn't know. “Do you think they will be enough so that they don't send us howlers?”

The mere thought mortified him; Draco Malfoy with howlers. 

“They have to,” Draco frowned. “It's not our fault that bloody hat put us here.”

“We're stuck with them.” Greg frowned as he looked askance at the other students from other years who were starting to leave in the direction of the common room, the dirty bloods and blood traitors.

Curious, Greg usually shied away from pureblood insults and prejudice. 

And it really bothered Draco, it bothered him that those same prejudices existed and at the same time it bothered him that he had to abandon them. 

He had grown up with them, and it felt even worse, because he knew that they were the main reason why his past life had been such a shit, but at the same time it felt wrong to have to give them up. The beliefs and traditions of the purebloods were a part of his history, the reason the wizards of the past had outlived the Muggles, the reason the sacreds 28 existed. 

But they were wrong, and it was hypocritical. 

His family had half-bloods, his godfather was a half-blood who fell in love with a dirty-blood, a muggle-born, many a Death eaters were half-bloods and hid it, and certainly the Dark lord was a half-blood. 

So, if it was wrong, why did it feel wrong for Draco to leave them? Even if he wanted to, why did he feel so confused, so uncomfortable? 

“We don't have to do that, you know.” Draco said as he stood up. 

Greg frowned in disgust. “Draco-

“It would be hypocritical, Greg,” Draco spat. “Our families have half-bloods, we're purebloods, who come from half-bloods who come from muggles, I mean, it's awkward for me too, but you have to think better of it, besides, the Gryffindors already hate us, let's not make any more enemies now.”

For a moment, Greg looked at him with shock, then confusion. 

“Where are you going?” He asked. 

Draco didn't really want to answer, he felt his wand heating up in his pocket, he was reacting to his emotions. 

He stifled everything before continuing. 

“I have no intention of staying here, I'm going to have breakfast, and then I go to Snape.” He replied as he turned on his heel, walking out of the portrait and ignoring the confused feeling of not having left the Slytherin common room. 

Greg didn't follow.

Draco didn't really go to the Great Hall for breakfast, as soon as he had the chance, he went far away, to the one place he could almost feel comfortable, Severus's office. 

Almost, he wasn't going to lie, he couldn't ignore the fact that his godfather had died, but this was a new life, a new story, it was different. 

He could drown his bad memories, he could drag them into the depths of his mind, until he couldn't remember them. 

“I knew you would come.” Severus' haughty voice, cold and pleased, echoed in the room. 

Beside him, waiting in the doorway, Severus Snape stared at him with cold indifference. 

“Severus-

“I assume you're not here just because you don't want to hang out with the members of your common room, are you?” 

Draco shut his mouth immediately, almost hurt by Severus' arched eyebrow. 

“Have my parents said anything to you?”

Severus looked at him with the most painful disappointment of his life, it was obvious that they had. 

“Your reprehensible father wasted my time with an unnecessarily long letter about how incredibly disappointed, hurt, upset and deeply disgusted you are in Gryffindor, the house that has been your family's enemy since they started attending Hogwarts.” 

Severus pointed to the table that was assaulted by the sunlight filtering through the room, and on it lay a piece of paper with something Draco recognised as the enchanted chocolates his mother always sent him, and a small letter wrapped in a black envelope. 

A black envelope-

Any other student would have thought it was a normal envelope, but Draco could feel the magic enveloping it, could feel the hatred, anger and disappointment boiling between the ink and the paper. 

It was a howler, and it was imbued with his father's magic. 

Draco was not going to hesitate, he approached the table cautiously, pulled out his long black wand and as soon as his magic was poured over the seal that held the letter closed, the black paper rose into the air. 

“DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY, HOW DARE YOU BETRAY YOUR FAMILY LIKE THIS? YOUR LEGACY, YOU ARE THE MALFOY HEIR! YOU HAD TO BE A SLYTHERIN, HOW DARE YOU BE IN THE HOUSE OF BLOOD TRAITORS, OF DIRTY BLOODS, TO STAIN OUR FAMILY NAME LIKE THAT, I TRUSTED YOU, YOU-”

“LUCIUS!” 

Both he and Snape jumped at the sound of his mother's shout. 

“DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT! HE'S OUR SON, YOU READ WHAT THE HAT SAID YOURSELF, HE'S STILL A SLYTHERIN, IT'S NOT EVEN TRUSTWORTHY TO PUT A TALKING HAT TO CHOOSE WHICH HOUSE THEY SHOULD BE IN ANYWAY!”

There was a long, awkward, deathly silence. 

 “OK!” his father snarled. “We'll... We'll tolerate it... For now, you're lucky your selection wasn't a complete failure, BUT YOU DARE NOT SET A FOOT IN THIS HOUSE AT CHRISTMAS! You better stand out in your grades, Draco, don't you dare embarrass us more than YOU ALREADY HAVE!” And with a hellish, indignant snarl, the letter shattered into pieces in the air, and not content with that, the little bits left over were burnt in the table. 

Draco could feel his wand heating up in his pocket, he hadn't even realized he had put it away, but it was there, alerting him, and if Draco had pulled it out, he might even have spared himself the embarrassment.

He could feel it, he could feel his chest expand with inhuman rapidity, he could feel the stinging in his eyes, his vision cloudy and crystalline.

“Don't you dare cry in my classroom.” Severus's voice was cutting, so much so that Draco felt his entire body being bathed in ice water.

Severus looked at him, his expression indifferent, but despite the emotionless mask, Draco was able to read for a few moments a flash of deep pity.

Pity, Draco hated pity, a Malfoy didn't cause pity.

“You haven't finished yet.“ Severus said, pointing to the letter his mother had sent him on his desk.

Draco approached it without grace, he needed that enchanted chocolate to cause happiness, even if it was temporary.

Draco.

If you are reading this, you are probably doing it after hearing the howler, like your mother, I want you to know that neither I nor your father hate you, your heart is too big for your chest, and you are probably thinking that or something similar, He doesn't hate you, he's just angry, surprised and confused, just like you, and we all say and do things that we can later regret when we have those feelings.

No matter what house you are in, I know you will be the best that Hogwarts can give, I am proud of you.

With love

Narcissa.

Maybe if Draco hadn't lived twice, he might have believed it, he might have been happy just reading the letter.

But he knew his father perfectly.

He put the chocolate in his mouth, hoping to be happy.

Although it was temporary.

Chapter Text

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 8

𝕺𝖋 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖘

As time went on, Draco felt... Well, he felt frustrated. 

Most things had been... Almost the same. Almost, because Draco wasn't in Slytherin as well as Greg had deliberately stopped hanging out with Vincent, the only Slytherins who still talked to him were Pansy, Blaise and Daphne, his mother was still sending him chocolates and the only letter from his father he received over the course of September and October so far, was one that said to expect a possible reclassification. 

And Draco wasn't going to lie, he was looking forward to it. 

No matter what the stupid hat said, he was a Slytherin no matter what. 

On the other hand, there was the relationship with the Gryffindors, which Draco had decided without objection that he hated the lot of them. 

Sure, he been prejudiced too, Draco reminded himself, but when it came to prejudice and jumping at the slightest of sounds, the Gryffindors had the upper hand. 

They didn't talk to him and Greg, most of the time Draco spent switching roles, being the one to protect them both from the curses and spells that commonly began to come their way, and as much as Draco enjoyed seeing the Gryffindors end up with the consequences of their own actions (he loved it when spells bounced back, truth be told.) He couldn't say he didn't enjoy being called a Dark lord in progress. 

And yes, ever since he went to Gryffindor, Ron Weasley and his two idiot friends, Thomas and Finnegan, had taken it upon themselves to let all the Gryffindors know that they couldn't talk to Draco or Greg because they were blood purists and Death Eaters in progress. 

That made Greg reconsider his idea about the pure blood culture, at least to some extent, but it had created a new problem. 

Draco was angry.

Draco was angry with Harry Potter. 

Draco tried, really, really tried to breathe and calm down. For a long time he saw Potter as a hero who saved everyone, and Draco hated that, because of all people he never saved him. 

But now he saw much more, Potter certainly wasn't perfect, he was, like many other Gryffindors, prejudiced. 

Which, Draco remembered, would come back to him in time, he remembered what the Gryffindors did to him during second year when he showed his ability to speak Parseltongue, he remembered all the times Weasley was a total idiot, and he also remembered what the whole school did once rumours of him being a Dark lord spread around the school, and what Weasley and the whole school did to him in fourth year. 

He was going to have a bad time, and Draco was looking forward to it. Because things hadn't changed; Potter still hated him, even when Draco tried his best to change things, it only took one silly talk with Weasley to incite hatred for the Slytherins and him, and Potter was back to being his rival. 

Oh well, he couldn't tell if they were that now or not, in any case, they hadn't spoken at all, every time they shared glances, Potter kept looking at him with something strange that Draco couldn't recognize at all, he seemed...conflicted with himself about Draco. 

Otherwise, things seemed to be going.... Things seemed to be going in the same direction, or at least one way of it, Draco had deliberately decided not to intervene in the events of the time unless it was for his own benefit, but otherwise, things were happening similarly. 

First, there was Theo. 

Theo had been a confidant to him, in his previous life, but now.... 

Now it was as if he didn't exist. 

They didn't talk, Draco knew that the events before his day in Diagon Alley happened as in his past life, or so Draco knew so far, but since he was sorted, Theo had decided that Draco, and he couldn't be friends, if anything, he had taken Draco's place. 

He was the one annoying Harry and Wesley, most things were going similarly, the first few classes, Potions with Severus and the total humiliation of Potter, but the flying class in September had gone differently, with Theo being the one to start the fight with Potter that led to him being Gryffindor's seeker, while he and Greg looked on in astonishment. 

And the more so, because, if anything, he never thought Theo had the guts for it. 

As for everything else... Draco spent his time wandering around Hogwarts, or the room of requirements, making sure things like Greg wasn't following him around all the time or keeping an eye on Quirrel. 

First, at the beginning of October, Greg certainly seemed braver about making friends, hanging out mostly with him, but also hanging out with Pansy and Blaise, or Goldstein in Ravenclaw, and Draco had decided he didn't want to know how that happened, but he didn't care. 

The Ravenclaws were the only ones who didn't seem to have a problem with them, Draco knew that, it had been like that in his old life, but he'd been too busy to pay attention to them before. 

Of course, now it was more, it was no secret at Hogwarts that Draco seemed to be the strongest wizard so far, even stronger than Potter, (a consequence of being back in his eleven-year-old body with a magical core of an eighteen-year-old wizard who had just been through an entire war.) and thanks to Weasley, it was also no secret that he and Potter didn't seem to be on good terms, though Potter didn't seem to mind at all. 

Ravenclaw, however, didn't seem to care about the rumours of Draco being a supposed Dark Lord. 

Now that he was a first year and no one else really seemed to know about the room of requirements, the place was more than useful in every way. 

At first, Draco couldn't even get past the wall that hid it, every time he did, the memory of Vincent falling into the flames and eating away inch by inch in the most painful way possible haunted him. 

But there was the question of his new wand, Draco had made a note to send a letter to Ollivander to find out further how intriguing his fancy new wand was, but aside from the fact that using it made spells, verbal or otherwise, a primary nature in Draco, it also seemed that the wand itself functioned as a personal painkiller, or so it would, walking into the room where his former friend-for-convenience/bodyguard had died had never felt so good. 

But then there was Quirrel. Draco honestly already knew that Voldemort, or whatever was left of him, lived in the back of his head. He wasn't going to lie, he felt incredibly uncomfortable, as well as bored in class with the man. But he had discovered new things.

 For example, he didn't know that Quirrel's stuttering was faked, he was amazingly good at it after all. He had discovered it the day the Potter became a Gryffindor seeker, Greg was too busy trying to learn how to run his own friendships with the Ravenclaws that afternoon, Draco took advantage of his solitude to follow Quirrel alone. 

Hearing the man speak without stuttering was interesting, Draco thought, but other than that, he had been expecting to hear Voldemort's voice as well, though he assumed that perhaps the two of them shared some sort of mental link so that Quirrel would answer his questions without Voldemort saying them. 

And that was another problem, Samhain was incredibly close, it was only a day away from Quirrel releasing a Troll into the dungeons. 

And Hermione Granger would be the victim. 

Honestly, it wasn't because of her that Draco was practising his spells and curses in the room of requirements at the moment. But the girl was now, more than anything else, pitiful to him. 

Certainly, besides him and Greg, Hermione was the only other girl who wasn't making friends in Gryffindor, the girl was so beyond amazed by magic and determined to prove that she could know everything about it, that she simply didn't realize that her attitude was somewhat annoying to the Gryffindors, even if the Ravenclaws would appreciate it. 

And yet, despite Weasley's endless insistence that Draco was a full-blooded Purist, and rumours that he was also a Dark lord on the rise, she had introduced herself to him like it was nothing.

“How do you do it?” She had said, the first of October, she had cornered him in the library while Draco spent his time doing his homework, thanked Merlin for claiming a good table and that no one had decided to bother him since. 

At this point, Draco was more surprised that Granger had decided to talk to him despite everything. 

“How do I do what?” He replied with a frown, now confused. 

Hermione looked at him with a doubtful look, then forced herself to speak with determination in her eyes, and Draco would have been touched that she had actually wanted to talk to him, if he wasn't as confused as he was shocked. 

“For such a... Well,” She gestured towards his long black wand. “Good wizard, I've watched you and... you certainly seem better than everyone... You always know more spells than most, and I've seen you use wandless and non-verbal magic.... And those are EXTASIS level spells!” She exclaimed in exasperation. 

Draco looked at her with amusement, and stifled a chuckle. Honestly, while he accepted that he was now far above most fifth years and perhaps, considering the mediocre DADA training, his non-verbal and wandless magic was limited to curses and counter curses, privacy spells and the occasional incantation.

“I had training,” he lied. “My parents educated me in many things.”

Interest blossomed in Hermione's gaze. “Really?” She asked incredulously. “I studied a lot before I came here, I didn't know anything about magic until I found out I was a witch.”

Draco frowned at that. “You didn't have a trained magical education before you came here?”

Hermione shook her head. 

Draco, at that moment, was very surprised. Muggleborns were supposed to get some sort of special magical education to introduce them to the magical world, though he was more than busy sneering and blustering about how they didn't deserve to use magic, 

“Muggle-borns are supposed to receive a special magical education, designed to introduce them to the... Why are you looking at me like that?”

Hermione's eyes were wide as saucers at Draco's words. “The Gryffindors say that you... Er, you...”

“That I hate Muggles?” Draco scoffed. “Honestly, I'm too busy with my own problems for that, if anything, I hate their culture and religions, they're antiquated and go completely against ours, and if you ask most Gryffindors who aren't Muggle born they'll say the same thing.”

Hermione looked shocked. “What's wrong with Muggle-born customs?” She asked with a frown. 

Draco shrugged slightly. “Their deities and customs go against ours, it was because of them that we had to hide, they send magic, so much so that they create offensive distortions of it, but they get scared when they see it for real.”

The look on Hermione's face contracted into something Draco couldn't identify. “I see.” She repeated, then other Gryffindor girls came into the library and whispered things when they saw them. 

Hermione bolted up and Draco felt incredibly confused because he was angry at the Gryffindors.

Since then, Draco had taken pity on her and had decided to set aside some of his time, (the time he wasn't spending watching Quirrel) to share a few words with her, Greg was certainly still somewhat conflicted, about whether he should befriend any dirty-bloods, Muggleborn, non-Ravenclaw, but other than that, he seemed to have developed some rapport with the girl. 

Still, he wasn't worried. Why should Granger worry him? She could certainly handle herself, and he knew Weasley and Potter would save her from the Troll anyway. 

Then she would forgive both idiots for being idiots, of course she would, and she would be too busy to admire him. 

Draco restrained himself, he couldn't let such trivial things break his concentration, he stifled any feelings or emotions and moved on. He had a Troll to defeat, and honestly, he wanted to do it as quickly as possible. 

Draco's mind wandered on what spell to use that would end it all in a flash. He wouldn't use the curses he learned from his surroundings in his time as a Death Eater, and the only curse he planned to use from Severus was Laglonck. 

He remembered, vaguely, that from what he'd heard, the damage to the girls' bathroom had been such that water had piled up and flooded it. 

Bingo- 

“Glacius” Draco whispered, pointing his long black wand at the dummy in front of him, from the tip of his wand, cold air and snowflakes lashed at the figure. 

In a matter of seconds, the entire mannequin was completely encased in pure, transparent platinum white ice. 

Draco allowed himself a sharp smile; despite everything, it still retained the delicacy and detail that Malfoy magic could offer.

On  Samhain morning, Draco and Greg were up early with the delicious aroma of roasting pumpkin wafting through the corridors, preparations for the feast were coming together quickly. 

Professor Flitwick announced in his Charms class that he thought they were ready to start blowing things up, and looked at Draco and Hermione questioningly. 

Despite the fact that everyone was dying to do it, Draco didn't feel excited, if anything, he kept his gaze completely indifferent and blank, Flitwick frowned at Draco as if he was trying to find something, and then sighed in surrender. 

Not a single member of the class missed that. 

Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Draco watched Potter pair up with Finnigan Weasley, however, he had to work with Hermione, and though Draco was waiting to see her humiliate the red-head he knew they were both angry, though he knew Hermione was more angry with both of them for whatever it was that had happened when Potter got his broom, and while Draco had decided he didn't care enough to throw a tantrum about it like the first time, he now seemed to be more than attentive to the fact that Hermione hadn't spoken to them since.

“And now don't forget that nice wrist flick we've been practising“ said Flitwick “Shake and flick; remember, shake and flick. And pronouncing the magic words correctly is very important too, never forget the wizard Baruffio, who said that one, instead of this and found himself lying on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.”

Draco tried not to worry because the mental image he pictured was bloodier than the last time. 

Draco's quill went up with ease, with a lazy mutter, Greg, who had been paired with him, seemed more amazed that Draco had managed it on the first try than worried that he couldn't perform the spell. 

“Oh!” Flitwick looked, if anything, amazed. Draco puffed out his chest proudly. “Draco Malfoy got it right the first time, five points for Gryffindor.” He swaggered as the rest of the class looked on in anger, envy and amazement. 

Draco watched with amusement as the rest of the class immersed themselves in their own organized case, they waved and banged, but no one's quill would budge from the desk. Finnigan grew, so impatient Potter had to put it out quickly before the fire spread, Flitwick looked at them both disapprovingly.

“Wingardium leviosa!” Weasley's shout echoed through the classroom, and Draco looked on disapprovingly as he waved his wand haphazardly. 

"You're pronouncing it wrong." Hermione reprimanded him, “It's Wingar-dium levi-o-sa, not leviosa!”

“Say it, you, then, if you're so clever,” Weasley exclaimed angrily, and Draco grinned instantly. 

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robe, waved her wand and said the spell. The feather rose from the desk and reached over a metre above their heads. Matching Draco's in the process.

Draco smiled approvingly, certainly, Granger seemed to be competent. 

“Oh, well done!” cried Professor Flitwick, applauding,  “Look, Hermione Granger has done it! Five more points for Gryffindor!”

Weasley was as red as his hair. 

At the end of class, Draco went out to find Hermione and congratulate her on her well-crafted spell, just as he was near the girl, the unpleasant tone of Weasley's voice echoed in front of them both. 

“No wonder no one puts up with her,” He said to Potter, both boys were walking in front of them as they made their way down the corridor. “It's a nightmare, I'm telling you, just a know-it-all...”

Draco heard Hermione shriek, the girl moved to bump into Potter, they could both see her face. 

She was crying. 

“I think she heard you.” Said Potter so casually, and Draco wanted to rip his head off.

 “So what?” said Weasley, “She must have realized by now that has no friends.”

At that moment, Draco saw red. 

“Is this a joke?” He spat. Both boys were sobered by the murderous sound that escaped Draco's voice. 

Potter, for one, looked surprised to see Draco so close to him, and Weasley simply looked uncomfortable. 

“Why do you care?” Wesley had the nerve to look confused. And it took more than his self-control could way for his magic not to erupt with fury and cast the redhead beyond death and reincarnation. 

“Fuck off.” Draco spat, shoving both boys so hard that they ended up falling to the ground in the process.

  Hermione didn't show up all afternoon. 

Draco remarked to Greg on the way to the Great Dining Hall, Greg just replied that they could look for her after the Beltane party, of course he didn't know anything about the Troll, so Draco wanted to go alone, but Greg ended up dragging him towards the Ravenclaw table. 

“I have to go find Granger.” Draco said once Greg sat down next to Goldstein, the latter looking at him quizzically. 

“Why?” Greg asked with a frown. “The party's about to start.” At that, a ridiculous amount of bats passed over the table like black clouds, the pumpkin candles settled, and the feast appeared on the plates just as it had at her selection ceremony. 

Just as Greg was helping himself to some chicken, the doors burst open to reveal Quirrell.

“¡A troll!“ shouted the turbaned man. “In the dungeons! I thought you should know...”

And he collapsed to the floor. 

 All fell into chaos, from the Slytherin table, Pansy and Blaise looked at them with the same terror as last time.

“¡Prefects!” Dumbledore exclaimed stiffly. “¡lead your groups to the dormitories, immediately!”

The Weasley prefect hurried.

“¡First years, stick together! You need not fear the troll if you follow my orders! Now, come with me. Make room, first years need to get through. Sorry, I'm a prefect!”

“Where are you going?” asked Greg as he saw that Draco wasn't following Percy. 

“To find Hermione.” Draco admitted. Greg looked at him with surprised eyes. “I'm going with you.” Greg said, but Draco stopped him. 

“Go to the room in the tower, close the curtains, so Percy won't think I left.” 

Greg looked hesitant, but nodded in confirmation and left. 

Draco broke away from the several hysterical groups of running children, thankful that they all seemed to be too busy panicking to notice his presence. 

Draco was thankful that having Transfigured his robes, Madame Malkin's careful spells that kept the colour of his dressing gown from fading, the Gryffindor red was so faded that apparently none of the Hufflepuffs noticed who he was. 

Draco broke off to walk down the deserted corridors to the fourth floor bathroom, immediately, a dying and unpleasant smell hit him. Draco wrinkled his nose and then froze as he recognized where the smell was coming from. 

The Troll. 

And there it was, on the left side of the corridor and approaching, it was gigantic and hulking, with a head too small for its misshapen body, and legs as short and thick as a log, skin as grey as stone, and it carried the giant wooden staff. 

Draco had seen Trolls before, in this life and his past life, the last time his father had cast a spell on him to prevent him from ending up as a grotesque mass of organs once he was wandering the distant grounds of the manor. 

The Troll rounded the corner, then Draco could see Potter and Weasley trying to flee from where they were once the Troll was gone, Draco frowned. 

“They were supposed to be in the bathroom...” He muttered to himself, however, any thoughts or ramblings he may have had were lost when he heard Hermione's panicked scream. 

Draco shook his head, if Potter and Weasley were going to run away, then he would have to handle it himself. 

Quickly and without pausing, Draco pushed the door open without much kindness, then saw Hermione stuck to one of the corners as the Troll approached her, waving his wooden staff in her direction, Hermione dodged the first blow, but the sinks were smashed with fury, water shooting out as the porcelain shattered into a thousand pieces. 

“Hey, you!” Draco exclaimed, at which point Potter and Weasley appeared through the door, watching the scene with infinite surprise. 

The troll turned around, blinking dubiously at the three children, then raised his staff and turned away from Hermione to lunge in Potter's direction. 

Weasley paled as the wooden cane grazed him within inches, Potter lunged to the left gracelessly to dodge the attack. The cane ended up hitting the bathroom doors, the wood scattering across the room as Hermione, Potter and Weasley screamed in unison. 

Draco took advantage of the distraction. “Glacius!” He shouted, in an instant, the entire room was submerged in ice, so cold that the heavy gasps of the three boys and Draco's serene breathing came out in thick white smoke. 

The water stopped flowing, the Troll stopped moving and when Draco looked closely, he saw that it had been frozen in its entirety. 

Layers and layers of a platinum ice and white frost had formed around the Troll, encasing him inside until only a giant icy pile of ice remained. 

Draco blinked, looking around, Hermione was crouched in the corner, her bushy hair covering part of her face as she stared at Draco in surprise, panting heavily. 

To Draco's left, Potter was lying on the ground with the odd wooden stake on top of him, eliciting the odd sound of pain as he looked at Draco with the same surprise and something else Draco couldn't recognize, and Weasley was paralysed. 

“He's... Dead?” Hermione's voice drew Draco back. 

“No.” Draco replied simply, or at least he couldn't say for sure if he was or not, it wasn't as if being completely frozen didn't attract sudden death. 

The violent sound of the doors opening made all three boys startle, Weasley rushed to join Potter's side, who had ungracefully got up from the floor, while Hermione hurried to stand next to Draco. All three children looked completely frightened. 

Draco, on the other hand, had a completely blank look on his face. 

Then, McGonagall was standing in the room, followed by Severus and Quirrel, Quirrel let out an aborted sound and fainted once he saw the giant pile of ice in the middle of the room, McGonagall hissed at the impending cold and Severus looked at the Troll and then at Draco, for the first time in his life, Draco could notice a thrill in his dull features. 

McGonagall also looked shocked, both professors looked at the Troll, then at Draco and then at his wand which he was clutching tightly in his hand. 

“What happened here!” McGonagall shouted. “What were you for thinking, why weren't you in your dormitories! You're lucky I didn't kill you!” McGonagall's lower lip quivered with cold, Severus, on the other hand, seemed to be completely unfazed. 

Draco stifled the urge to put away his wand as Severus leaned over to examine Draco and the others, paying more attention to Draco and frowning when he saw his fingers tremble as he gripped his wand tightly. 

“It wasn't his fault.” Hermione stammered next to Draco. 

“Hermione Granger!” Hermione tensed at McGonagall's look of fury and tone of voice. 

“They were looking for me.” Hermione continued. “I... I came looking for the Troll because I.... I thought I could beat it, I'd read so much about them, I thought I could do it.” 

Draco frowned in exasperation, had it been like this last time? Hermione just took the blame, just like that? 

“Harry and Ron came looking for me, and Draco had already arrived earlier, they didn't have time to look for help, Draco cast a Glacius on the Troll to.... Well, to stop him.” 

Potter and Weasley had the gall to look astonished. 

McGonagall contemplated the four boys for a moment, before assessing the room and looking at the Troll and Draco again, ah at this point, Draco already knew from the conflicted look on the woman's face, that she was astonished that a first year boy had been able to successfully cast such a spell. 

“Well...in that case,” said Professor McGonagall, “Hermione Granger; you're a fool. How did you think you were going to defeat a giant troll all by yourself?” 

Hermione hung her head in shame, Draco raised his chin angrily. 

“For this, Gryffindor will lose five points.” McGonagall said. “I am very disappointed, if you have done yourself no harm, go back to Gryffindor tower, the other students are finishing up the party in their houses. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, you too.” 

At that, the three boys looked at each other doubtfully, Hermione bit her lip before nodding, walking out of what was left of the girls' bathroom earlier, being followed by the other two boys with head down. 

“You, Mr. Malfoy...” McGonagall turned to him. “I must say, I am completely amazed at your performance of the Glacius spell, especially to end up... like this.”

She looked in the direction of the cluster of ice that enclosed the Troll. As each word she spoke, her breath came out in white smoke.

“For that, Gryffindor will receive fifteen points, it's unusual to see first years perform such advanced spells.” She looked at him with an arched eyebrow. 

“I read a lot.” Draco lied, offering McGonagall a nervous smile. 

Severus gave him a look that told him to get out of the place, and Draco obeyed without thinking, arriving at Gryffindor tower within seconds. 

Weasley, Hermione and Potter were inches in front of him. 

“Why did you do that!” hissed Draco with hatred, all three boys raised their heads and turned to look at Draco. “You could have told the truth.” 

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Draco interrupted, “You could have told the truth, McGonagall would have understood you, you could have said she was being bullied, that Weasley was an ungrateful idiot because Salazar knows he'd never get that bloody spell right, you could have said you wanted to be alone, and you were unlucky enough to find the bloody Troll.”

Weasley and Potter looked uncomfortable. 

“Draco...” Potter began, and Draco felt his nerves go on edge. 

“Don't call me Draco.” Draco spat. “You, especially you, have no right to call me Draco.” 

Potter looked distressed, but Draco didn't care. He was angry at him, especially him. 

“I thought we could be friends.” Draco growled, Harry's eyes widened, Harry's features contracted in what Draco recognized as guilt. 

Why should he care? Did Potter ever care? Draco wanted to be his friend, wanted to make things right, then and now, and then Potter simply rejected him, when Weasley had insulted him first. 

He shot Sectumsempra at him and did he care? No, to Potter, who was always willing to save everyone but him, to Potter, who gave everyone a chance but him, to Potter, who chose Weasley over him because Weasley was supposed to have been nice to him, well he been nice to him first now, had repaired his damn glasses he could see so much through, had explained to him what no one explained to him about Hogwarts. 

Draco had tried to be his friend, he had changed the way he thought Potter hated so much, he was trying to make up for his mistakes now that he had the chance, and even then Potter didn't want to be his friend. 

Why, then, did Draco have to be? 

“But then your stupid Weasley friend, not knowing me, started talking about me, saying all these things about me, and you, not knowing me, decided to believe them all, didn't you?” Draco knew that everyone present was listening to him, he had no idea when exactly so many people had gathered or when he had entered the Common Room, but here he was, and he didn't care at all. 

“All these stupid packs of Gryffindors” Draco's words echoed around the room, everyone present lowered their heads in shame. “Believing every stupid thing a bloody bastard says, may I remind you that you're the reason Hermione was in that bathroom? What would have happened if I hadn't arrived, eh?” 

Weasley's face turned as red as his hair with embarrassment. He looked uncomfortable now, all the people staring, and after all, what did it matter? If anything, it was the only thing Gryffindors were good at, watching, judging and not thinking. 

Why did he have to be in Gryffindor? 

“Draco...” Hermione looked at him with something, with pity. Draco hated pity. 

“I thought you were smarter.” Draco spat, something in Hermione's features made Draco want to take it back, but why should he? He was right. 

Without looking back or paying attention to the other people in the common room, Draco walked into his room, Greg was already sleeping through the closed curtains, and Draco hurried in and closed the curtains, it wasn't like he cared about the dressing gowns, he could transfigure another one later. 

If he was going to have a reclassification, he was looking forward to it.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖓𝖉. 

Chapter Text

NOTICE

HELLO, MY GOD, MY GOD, MY GOD You have no idea how much I had wanted to post, but the truth is that I went through a series of problems and honestly I moved away from writing a bit, but now I am well and back and the truth is that I am determined to continue with this again, I am sorry much that they thought that it was abandoned or something, it is not

On the other hand, I want to take the opportunity to tell you that this story will take a further course (not too much) from what was traditionally understood of the magic of Harry Potter, obviously I do not want to take away the original idea (you cannot make a Harry Potter fanfict without taking into account the world of Harry Potter)

Also, I would like you to talk to me in the comments and tell me how you have been feeling lately with this story <3

Again, I am very sorry for being absent like this.

Also, ONCE AGAIN I clarify that Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me, I do not support JK Rowling, you already know what would become of Harry Potter if it belonged to me.

In addition, I wanted to give a little more life to the format of the story, so I want you to know that from now on changes of points of view will occur and I will put a series of “symbols” at the moment of changing the points of view, and each one It will be assigned to a character so that they know from which perspective the events are narrated.

「♤」↜ Draco

「♧」↜ Greg

「♡」↜ Hermione

「♢」↜ Harry

「✧」↜Ron

I do this, again, because I want to play around with the format a bit.

aside, remember that from now on:

“ABCD” conversation

“ABCD” discussion (normally it will be used in a series of specific words, this in order to give more weight to the idea that it is trying to express ex: “I will kill you” It differs that "I will kill you"

<ABCD> Signal

~ABCD~ singing 

-ABCD- thought 

Bye❤

Chapter Text

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯: 9  ♧1𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢♧

𝔉𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔇𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔬. 

<𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤>

「♧」

Gregory Goyle actually felt that being friends with Draco was, in some way or another, the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

But, of course, he couldn't ignore the fact that Draco had, if anything, radically changed his attitude. It didn't seem to Greg that his personality had changed as much as it had the last time he had seen him last year before Christmas. 

Something, however, had changed in Draco, and that was something Greg couldn't explain. During the time they had been at Hogwarts, Greg had seen that Draco's tastes and his way of expressing himself  hadn't changed, But his personality, on the other hand, yes. 

His tastes (as far as he knew) Were the same, his way of expressing himself most of the time was just as sarcastic and haughty and truth be told, he was just as intelligent as he had always been. 

Something Greg could attribute to Draco, who had known him since he was young (his father had always made sure to try and find him the best choice of contacts) at a certain point, had even improved or surpassed what he had known in the past. 

Draco had always been good at magic, and everything Hogwarts could encompass in terms of subjects or curriculum.

Of course, it had to be taken into account that Draco somehow or other already had a basic knowledge of what magic was, from what Greg had understood (from what little he had lived with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy) Draco's parents thought to been sent he to another school and had even been considered for home study. 

But, regardless of this, Draco had always been intellectual enough to understand things much quicker than most. 

In other words, Draco was naturally good at everything. 

But Greg seemed not to be by nature. 

He wasn't good at hand movements, he didn't memorise the pronunciation of spells well, he struggled with most things (from potions to incantations) and the fact that his magic had manifested at a much later age, compared to the stipulated age at which accidental magic was supposed to manifest, couldn't be ignored either, not to mention the fact that that was why his family came to think of him as a squib. 

Sure, he might have been good at certain things, but not the things he should have been good at. 

That's why Greg thought being friends with Draco was a good thing. 

Before, it was fun, to see that Draco could do so many things and be so much at the same time.... It captivated him, he had always seen Draco as a role model, an inspiration for the future, Draco was what his father wanted him to be. 

But, that, in a way, was also changed now. Draco had undergone a radical change in, well, him?  

Of course, it couldn't be a bad thing that Draco now seemed to care more about his well-being, the Draco Greg knew before would never have cared about protecting him from the spells some Gryffindors would cast at him (he most likely would never have been able to protect himself from them). 

Now he felt certain that he could wake up in the middle of the night without fear of Draco throwing a pulsating curse at him for waking him up.

Aside from that, at a certain point (and though Greg was still conflicted about it) Draco was right about blood purity, and calling anyone a dirty blood when they were in Gryffindor was not a good idea. 

But, the question here wasn't whether Greg thought this was good, it was whether this was actually good. 

Draco had always been his hope, even if he didn't know it, unlike Theo who was always looking to try and replace him (if joining him didn't work out) and Blaise, who even if Draco didn't know it was a total and complete hypocrite, Greg really didn't want to be friends with him out of political expediency for their families. 

Even though the closest in the gang were always Pansy, Blaise and Theo, Greg never thought of abandoning Draco, even though he and Vincent were on another plane. 

And even more so now, since Vincent (who was the only other person Greg could claim as his friend) had moved away. 

Greg could always rely on Draco to be his help, in exchange for being his bodyguard, though Greg didn't really intend to be his mere bodyguard in exchange for anything. 

And Greg couldn't deny that he was trying to find someone clever (Goldstein) to try and run away from, he wasn't good at making friends (he'd never made any, honestly, they'd all been made out of convenience) because Ravenclaws were supposed to be clever. 

Because before Draco helped him because he needed it, but now that Draco could protect himself, and no longer needed anyone's help, he wasn't going to need him. 

And again, Greg knew his situation perfectly well, he had resigned himself to it, he didn't want to fall for a ploy created by his own mind in an absurd or futile attempt at self-motivation, he was slow. 

Compared to most, he was an idiot. 

Greg wasn't going to lie, he was having a crisis. 

He had already begun to anticipate it, but the troll incident and the fact that Draco had started to care about that Granger girl was a clear sign that he was far more independent than he was supposed to be. 

And that made him feel guilty, in a way, because he had no right to feel upset about the situation, after all, he was the one who needed Draco, not vice versa, something Draco had also made quite clear when they first met. 

"You'd make a good bodyguard," were the first words they exchanged when they met, words that made it clear to him that he was nothing more than a resource that could be replaced at any time. 

The musculature, which instilled fear in the other boys, was the only thing Greg could categorise as his own, because the brains of it all were always in Draco. 

Pansy was the fun, pretty and the spark one, Blaise was the diplomat, Theo was the advisor, Draco was the brains, the wit and the ace up his sleeve and he and Vincent were the muscles. 

And that's why Greg also wanted the former Draco to come back, because then things would be like they were before. 

Besides, Greg had also taken the trouble to figure things out from the point of view that would make his stay at Hogwarts the easiest, Draco would get into Slytherin, and he would get into the house Draco was in. 

But things didn't work out that way, Draco ended up in Gryffindor, and Greg wasn't foolish enough not to know that he didn't have any of the qualities of the houses. 

He didn't have the courage of a Gryffindor, nor did he have the intellect of a Ravenclaw, nor the sense of justice of a Hufflepuff, let alone the wit of a Slytherin. 

So he chose to follow Draco. 

♧ 1𝔰𝔱  ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡. 

Chapter Text

 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 10

𝔈𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔡'𝔰 𝔐𝔦𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔯.

「♤」

Draco was honestly surprised at how different November was being as a first year from his past life. 

Hogwarts was dressed in white, the green of the mountains turned a dull grey, the frost that could be seen looked like glitter on November mornings and the lake had begun to be covered by long, thick sheets of ice.

The first Quidditch match of the year was just around the corner, and while the school was just as excited as the first time, especially since Harry bloody Potter was a seeker, there was now a slight tinge of angst that had erupted in the students of the red tie (with the exception of Greg and himself). 

The events that transpired on Halloween made a big difference to the way students and houses acted. 

Slytherin was making the most of the situation; by now, Gryffindor's reputation had become so tarnished that not even the match would save it; as usual, the secrets of Hogwarts were known to all, and with Slytherin taking advantage of the fact that the entire school, and quintessentially all of magical Britain, knew of Gryffindor's unfriendly ways. 

The Quidditch match had become more an attempt at redemption over attention than proving that Gryffindor was the better house. 

At this point, Draco still regretted not being in Slytherin to capitalise on that as well, but he was encouraged to be in the inner circle of the situation, he could capitalise on that so easily. 

Regardless of this, neither he nor Greg were affected at all, life went on as usual, with Greg spending time with Pansy, Daphne or him, or Goldstein, who, to Draco's (unpleasant) surprise, seemed more interested in him than Greg, who was doing his best to make him feel welcome. 

One of the things that had always bothered Draco was that Greg wasn't capable enough of valuing himself to put a “stop”  when he saw others taking advantage of him. 

In the past, or well, in his 'past life' one of the reasons why Greg annoyed Lovegood was that it was easier to take advantage of her than it was to take advantage of him. 

However, he also had to attribute that it was partly his fault (if not entirely his fault) that he had encouraged this sort of thing in Greg, but now he was determined to make amends for his mistakes and this was one of them. 

It was just that Saturday that the first Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match was to begin, excitement was leaping from the hearts of the students and posters of who was supporting whom could already be seen. 

It was 10 o'clock in the morning, at that time, Draco along with Greg and Vincent were supposed to be in search of binoculars, as, according to Draco “It would help him see Potter's failure better” although that had been in the past. 

Now Draco had no intention of watching the match, he had no idea where Hermione or Greg were, it wasn't as if he cared either ( although he did ) Greg had left earlier that morning and Draco was absolutely sure that after what happened with the troll, Granger would have no intention of talking to him. 

Although Draco, who in his mind was convinced that he didn't care, in his heart felt that he had been a little hard on her, still couldn't understand why the girl had blamed herself for everything so calmly. 

And on the other hand, Greg had also started to act stranger, he seemed to want to spend most of his time alone. 

It was none of his business either, or so he told himself in his mind as well. 

Deliberately, Draco decided it was much better to stay away from the match, there was nothing else he hadn't seen anyway, and he had decided it was better to go to the Library for a particular reason. 

In his past life, Draco had heard that Dumbledore had kept the philosopher's stone inside Erised's mirror, after enchanting it, Draco had already researched it and knew that this mirror had the power to display the heart's most desired desire of whoever saw themselves in it. 

However, from what Draco had heard in his past life, the mirror had been found earlier by Potter at Christmas, only to be used by Dumbledore as a sort of chest for the stone. 

Whether this was true or not, after extensive analysis that took most of the night, the mirror would have to have been requested by Dumbledore after he came up with the brilliant idea of bringing the Philosopher's Stone to Hogwarts. 

In other words, it was most likely that somewhere between October and November the mirror should have been introduced to Hogwarts, and Draco had concluded that that day would have to be today. 

The same day that the first Quidditch match would occur, not only because all students would be gathered on the Field, but also because it would be the first match of The-Boy-Who-Lived. 

It would be incredibly easy to bring a magical artifact such as the mirror to Erised without anyone noticing. 

At least, that was Draco's hypothesis, he couldn't be completely sure that the mirror was inside Hogwarts yet. 

At 11 a.m all the students and professors were in the Field, Draco had gone out through the corridors towards the Library, taking care that Argus Filch don't would find him in one of them. 

One thing he could boast about himself was his stealth skills, he may not have been extremely good, but from his time as a Death Eater he learned to sneak very well in various places. 

He decided to ignore it and move on. 

By the time Draco reached the Library, it was empty and from the field he could hear the noise of excited students, most likely the match had already begun. 

Draco walked through the Library, reaching the forbidden section and took a moment to admire the books on the shelves. 

Most of the books in there he had seen and the others he had in the Malfoy Library. 

By now, Draco had thought a bit about what he used to know as “good“ and “bad”, he knew perfectly well that the purist beliefs were nothing more than a meaningless void, of course, he had grown up with them, after all, he was obliged to change them if he wanted things to be better for him. 

What many wizards and witches considered “the good and the evil” in magic was really stupid, for him, magic could not really have a direction, good and evil was in the heart of every wizard and witch and it was every wizard and witch who gave it a purpose. 

After all, anyone could kill someone by levitating a rock above them, a simple magical prank by the Wesley twins could very well kill someone if they got out of control and yet the spells they used were not considered evil. 

Just as dark spells could be used for good things, it was a misconception they had given to things to try to excuse the fact that the decision to do good or evil was not in the magic, but who used it. 

The forbidden section, if it was so forbidden, shouldn't be there to begin with, however, the fact that it was there proved that no matter how much they wanted to keep people from “evil” it was in their nature to do so. 

The forbidden things were always the most conspicuous. 

Draco snapped out of his trance when he heard a rumbling noise, most likely Potter's broom had already started to malfunction. 

He continued on his way in a hurry, turned the corner down one of the corridors and followed the long hallway of statues and as he turned left, a door became visible in his direction, it was padlocked shut. 

The door looked rusty, there were some cobwebs covering the door pin. 

-“Alohomora” Draco whispered, waving his long wand in a lazy motion, and the padlock was unlocked, With a gentle ~click~, disengaging from the latch simultaneously. 

The door opened, and immediately after, he could perfectly visualize Erised's mirror. 

He was right. 

It was a very detailed mirror, long until it almost touched the ceiling, with a finely crafted golden frame, resting on claw-like supports, it had an inscription engraved on the top that read <Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi>

A play on words that read “I show not your face but your heart's Desire.”

At that moment, Draco was dazzled. He had already heard and researched, seen hundreds of illustrations and heard different versions of what the mirror might look like, but the real thing was far more beautiful than he could have imagined. 

But, in every light there is a shadow, the frame of the mirror, despite having been worked down to the most absurd detail, Draco could make out the spells put on it to prevent the damage of weather from showing on it, as well as any other damage that might have been caused by the environment and the humidity. 

The blond approached cautiously, not because he was in danger, but because it was a vice (courtesy of his past) that he was cautious in places he was not supposed to be. 

When he was close enough to the mirror for his body to be reflected, he noticed that the surface of the mirror seemed to change, as if it was some optical illusion, his reflection began to change out of nowhere. 

What was once the young boy, platinum blond, slim and with sharp features, had disappeared, his figure had begun to deform rapidly until it faded away. 

For a long moment, there was no reflection, not the slightest thing that the mirror's surface could show. 

-“Nothing?” he wondered to himself, puzzled by the fact that what was supposed to be his heart's desire had not manifested itself before him.

「♤」

Then, out of nowhere, a tall, slender figure had made its presence known, slowly taking shape until Draco could see it clearly. 

It was him, his past self. 

Draco couldn't think, he was in shock. 

It was his seventh year version, he could remember him perfectly well, he was wearing the same black suit, the same straightened hairstyle, he looked ungainly, with dark circles under his eyes and he was holding what his hand swore was the Elder wand. 

He froze. 

Out of nowhere, the Draco in the mirror began to cast a series of spells with the wand, as if he was fighting someone, a blurred landscape was beginning to take shape. 

The astronomy tower. 

Draco couldn't move, he felt as if he was living the scene all over again, the landscape of nothingness had started to turn white little by little, a sort of mist had started to form around it. 

The face of his mirror self had changed drastically, he began to laugh for no reason and his face was wearing an empty smile, accompanied by a grimace of anguish. 

In the blink of an eye, the image faded to show Voldemort dead, lying on the floor of Malfoy Manor, being devoured by what Draco seemed to identify as some kind of snake, completely white and long. 

On the other side, near that other snake, was nagini eating itself (from its tail) as the other snake tore the remains of Voldemort apart and slowly swallowed them. 

The snake shook violently, In a sort of retch, the snake vomited Voldemort's remains in a crimson-yellow mass of organs and stomach fluid. The scenery began to draw up again, out of nowhere, what was once Malfoy Manor was once again what Draco cruelly recognised as the Astronomy Tower. 

His mirror self began to boast and celebrate about something, suddenly the fallen figure of Dumbledore materialised in front of him, this time with a deep, vacant stare staring in his direction. 

Draco felt that gaze pierce his soul. Dumbledore lay dead on the floor, just as he had seen him in his past, but this time he was happy about it. 

Draco was engrossed, unable to stop witnessing the scene. 

At an unforeseen moment, a strong heat began to burn his skin, he jerked violently backwards, losing his balance and falling to the ground in the process. 

Draco hissed at the painful burn on his hand, and without a second thought threw the object in the direction of the mirror, flipping violently against the glass surface and falling to the floor with a thud. 

On the cold floor of the room lay his long wand, black and majestic, untouched. 

Draco looked around the room in anguish, trying to focus on his surroundings as a dazed noise slowly faded from his ears. 

At that moment, Draco stared in astonishment as the room began to freeze. The surface of the mirror was frosted over and his violent breathing caused a small mist to rapidly fade around him. 

-“This is...” he realised later, that what had begun to dull his view of his reflection had not been the mirror, but him. 

He had begun to unleash his magic without realising it. 

At that moment, many feelings and thoughts came to him, partly he had felt ashamed of his accidental manifestation of magic out of control, but apart from that, he was afraid. 

What the fuck had he just seen. That was his heart's deepest desire? That day, in the astronomy tower, he hadn't wanted to murder Dumbledore, of course he was angry with the old man. 

He had promised him things that weren't impossible, but he didn't intend to keep them either. Draco knew that, he knew perfectly well that Dumbledore hadn't wanted to help him at all, because Dumbledore knew perfectly well what was going on in his school, every single thing. 

-“every single moment. ”

He knew that, and he had only offered to help him because Dumbledore knew that he would believe him. 

-“I  always believed the wrong people.”

But he had no real intention of helping him in the first place, had he? He didn't really care what happened to him, he only cared about Harry Potter.

-“like everyone else. ”

But still, he didn't want to kill him, not at all, he never would have dared... 

-“Or if I had been able to?”

Draco shook his head, regardless of what he had seen, he shouldn't dwell on the matter. 

He stood up from the floor, looking down at his hand, realising that the only thing he could see on it was some dirt from the floor, and picked up his wand, wondering if it had really happened. 

 Draco left the room, picking up the large, rusty padlock that had come loose from the door latch as he threw alohomora. 

His ears pricked up as he heard the echo of a deep voice and an angry tone, Draco's nerves jumping at the first instant he recognised Snape's voice. 

Draco launched himself ungracefully towards one of the statues, ducking behind it being as careful as possible that his movement would be able to unsettle it. 

For a short moment, Draco could breathe before holding his breath, the slightest sound would alert his presence. 

When Snape's voice became more audible, Draco recognised that he was already in the same corridor. He could hear a series of curses and whimpers coming out of his mouth in deep anger. The sound of a foot being dragged across the floor told him that the Potions master was possibly hurt.  

Draco was praying that Snape's anger would not allow him to see that the door was unlocked and open. Since he had grabbed it, if Snape noticed that, he would automatically be in trouble. 

The blond's body tensed the moment Snape's voice had intensified enough to denote that he was near the statues. 

Snape's voice began to slow as he moved forward, Draco let out a small breath and relaxed once he was sure that the man had already passed through the door. 

Once he rounded the corner, Draco emerged from his hiding place to head back to the door and put the lock back in place. He removed the cobwebs from the latch with his fingers and locked the padlock. 

-“Cobwebs...” a sudden thought formed in the blond's mind. 

Why were there cobwebs? 

Draco had thought that the mirror had been brought into Hogwarts earlier that day, but the fact that it was locked, with cobwebs already forming on the latch, indicated that the door had been closed for a considerable time, with the mirror inside. 

Which meant that it had already been brought to Hogwarts. 

But, apart from thatFilch custioded the corridor, so the door itself was supposed to remain closed continuously. 

So why was Potter able to open it? 

Draco doubted very much that the boy could or would know how to cast alohomora, as well as Wesley, the only one Draco could attribute such an accomplishment to was Granger and the girl hadn't been at Hogwarts by the time Potter had supposedly found the mirror. 

Draco knew from the rumours he had heard and remembered, but if this was true, then someone had opened the door with the intention of Potter entering and finding the mirror. 

Who, and why? 

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡. 

Chapter Text

11

𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔇𝔬 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱? 𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔇𝔬 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩? 

「♡」

What did she want? 

Hermione Granger always thought of herself as the nerdy girl with a social disability, who used words too advanced for kids her age to understand. The typical girl with few friends who walked behind everyone else, who usually ended up being included when she was needed, excluded when she was no longer useful and included again when she should have played her role. 

But at least back then, she was... something. 

When she discovered she was a witch, it was the greatest blessing of her life. Witch? Like the kind girls bragged so much about wanting to be and bewitch boys who annoyed them? Witches like those who are eternally beautiful and live surrounded by magic and potions and a black cat that accompanies them and fly on broomsticks? It was a fairy tale concept because magic is real. 

But it was stupid, then she realized that the magical world existed, that an equal population were Wizards or witches, and that she was just one of the bunch, she thought she was cool, but even in a fantasy context she can't be fantastic. 

Girls and boys were just like normal people, only with magic. Ron did NOT have to remind her why she was a social isolate again, she knew why, but being an "annoying nerd" was all she had been all her life, all she could be. 

Draco... He was different, sure, she didn't understand why the Gryffindor boys picked on him and Greg or why Ron was so insistent that she should stay away from him, now she knew about those purist beliefs, but Draco never proved to be like that with her. 

He had never done anything to them, and yet he was considered an enemy, it was stupid and cruel. 

He was like her. 

But here she was, somehow regretful, sure, Ron and Harry had apologized, but Draco.... What he said was true, actually true. 

Why should she accept his apology, when they put her there? Why did she blame herself? She didn't understand anything, why had she made Draco so angry, what was it supposed to matter? Anyway it wasn't that special, accidents happened, and maybe she should accept his apology and they should all be friends finally so she could feel for once that things were going her way. 

But that's just a fairy tale concept, her life wasn't a fairy tale after all. 

-“GO GRYFFINDOR!” A deafening scream echoed, snapping her out of her head, Hermione groaned to herself. 

The crowd on the pitch was absurdly large, maybe it was just an optical illusion or not, it was all chaos in shouts, some of encouragement and some of despondency. She had been vaguely aware of the events in the sea of golden red and silver green, and Lee Jordan was loud enough for him comments to slip through her inner reflection. 

-“Hermione”

A voice peeked over the crowd referring to her, Hermione turned around to see Ron's figure behind her, offering her a forced smile. 

-"Hello” she simply replied dryly. The next few minutes, or perhaps seconds, were filled by Ron making intelligible, awkward sounds, seeming genuinely to force himself to create a topic of conversation. 

After the troll incident, everything had been an awkward air between them, all of Gryffindor was an awkward atmosphere in fact. Draco's flash of anger managed to finally put down that thick pillar of "Friendship and brotherhood" that the Gryffindors apparently proved to be, or at least that was how McGonagall had summed it up. 

It was an accurate summary of how the week had gone. 

- “Err... Harry's doing well, don't you think?” finally said Ron, pointing in the direction of Harry who was hovering in mid-air. 

She couldn't genuinely respond to that, she definitely hadn't been paying attention. 

-“What's that?” a flash of gold suddenly became visible, Ron raised his binoculars to get a closer look at Harry, he now seemed to be following something with his head. 

-“He saw the snitch!”-Ron exclaimed excitedly. - “Hermione, Harry's already seen the Snitch!”

Indeed, he had, Harry left his place from where he was suspended to follow the mysterious golden flash. 

In a sudden change, his broom began to wobble in the air as Harry held on tightly, his facial features turning from amusement to a deep fear of falling from god knew how many feet in the air. His body began to be whipped violently through the air as he held on tightly to the broomstick. 

- "What's that! Harry Potter seems to be having trouble with his broomstick!”

Sounds of consternation from the Gryffindors began to echo throughout the stadium, followed by cold, derisive laughter from the Slytherins. Hermione plucked the binoculars from Ron's face to take a closer look, ignoring the boy's plaintive whimper. 

Harry held on tight as the broom jerked genuinely trying to throw him. 

She followed Harry's figure until it finally landed on Snape's face, his lips twitching with something of what looked like desperation 

- “It's Snape!” Hermione let out a sound of indignation. - “He's hexed the broom!”

- “What! Why?” Ron looked at her in confusion as he retrieved his binoculars. 

- “I don't know, but I'm going to break it!” She replied as she handed him her binoculars and left her spot to head in the direction of the tower. 

Hermione moved quickly through the crowd, ignoring the complaints and the faces of those she was pushing in the process, ran in the direction of an entrance and before she knew it, she was on the floor. 

She had bumped into someone, she guessed as much when she heard the sound of a breathless snort at the same time she felt the stone floor hit. 

Gregory Goyle's figure stood erect and alert in front of her. -“I'll help you.”

Gregory extended his hand (too hesitantly) in her direction. 

Hermione quickly pulled herself together. 

- “No, I'm sorry, I didn't look where I was going,” she apologized automatically as she cleaned her clothes. 

Gregory froze for a moment, looking at her in strange amazement as he stayed in his position, blocking her chance to get to Snape. 

-“What's wrong?” she asked, shifting restlessly as she waited for Greg to move from his spot. 

- “You-you apologized,” Greg looked genuinely confused. - "I thought you were going to yell at me or something.”

- “Why would I?”She politely pushed Greg away so she could continue, but was stopped by a weight on her wrist. 

- “Have you seen Draco?” the way Greg asked her, seeming sure she would know the answer. 

She wished she did, but it was obvious she didn't. 

- “No, I haven't seen him, look I have to go Snape is trying to hex Harry's broom and if he didn't get there in time he might fall-”

- “Snape What?! Wait, what's going on?” Greg released his grip on her wrist to start following her back down the stone corridor. - "What do you mean by that?" 

 An intensified wailing noise echoed throughout the walls, followed by multiple sounds of surprise and fear. 

-“No time!”she replied as she continued on her way in the direction to the back of where she assumed the professors were located. She moved in the direction to where she recognized were Snape's shoes along with his black robes. 

Hermione pulled out her wand, ignoring the sound of surprise from Greg beside her. 

- “What are you going to do-”

- “Lacarnum Inflamari” a small spark of fire shot from the tip of her wand, taking shape on the black fabric and spreading rapidly. 

Snape's body jerked suddenly once the heat and burning smell manifested itself, losing his balance in the process and knocking Professor Quirrel off his spot with a pitiful, pitiful groan of pain. 

 Suddenly, sounds of relief rang out throughout the stadium, Lee jordan jordan called to say that Harry had regained his balance and seemed to be moving in the direction of the Snitch now. 

Hermione walked over to the first window she saw, next to Greg, whatever had been done worked, Harry recomposed himself back on the broom and was now side by side against Terence Higgs, who also seemed to be going for the Snitch. 

Both boys swiftly followed the golden flash, lunging at each other as the Snitch guided them in all sorts of directions. 

Now she could genuinely answer Ron's question, yes, indeed Harry seemed to be on point, the black tresses swaying in the wind as his body moved like a falling star, it was hard for her to repair the figure of Harry on his broom as he went chasing the Snitch. 

She was in awe now, and strangely... Happy. 

She hadn't been that kind of person to scream and shout and get excited for a match ever, it generally annoyed her when her father did it, but now she was clapping and shouting with joy. 

And apparently it was contagious, because now Greg was doing it too. 

Harry moved swiftly towards the ground, he rose to a level close enough for his broom to crash dangerously into the grass, all the players in green were following behind his wind trail, in a sort of maneuver Harry recomposed himself on the broom to stand upright and try to grab the Snitch with his hand. 

Almost immediately, the tip of his broom hit the ground catapulting him away, Harry rolled to the ground and Hermione could swear that the golden glow had disappeared beneath him. All the red and green players stopped abruptly to look at him, the whole court was now submerged in a silence of suspense and anticipation. 

Harry looked like he wanted to throw up now, and in a second, the golden glow that Hermione noticed in the distance was now in his hands, Harry held it proudly. 

The entire stadium erupted in cheers of all kinds, applause and whistles followed by shouts of praise for Harry Potter echoed for what she could have sworn were minutes as Harry waved his hands in victory and Oliver Wood the Gryffindor team smiled and celebrated with him. 

-“Look at that!” Lee jordan spoke from his podium in complete happiness. - “Harry caught the Snitch, he just won 150 points for Gryffindor!”

Everyone on the pitch that wasn't Slytherin screamed with sincere joy, and it took her a while to realize that Greg and she were doing so aswell. 

It felt good, screaming and clapping, next to Greg, she was having fun, he was having fun with her. For the first time someone genuinely seemed to be having fun with her. 

-“Hermione! You did it! Whatever you did worked! Harry caught the Snitch, We won-”

All Hermione could see once it sunk in that Ron was now holding her energetically, was that he and Greg were now looking at each other uncomfortably. 

Greg's joyful face was suddenly extinguished once he saw that Ron had noticed his presence. 

- “I guess I have to go.... Draco, he... He must be somewhere... ” Greg finally said, turning away from them both silently, Hermione had wanted to reach out her arms to ask him to stay, but Ron was still holding her in place. 

- “What-” she pulled away sharply. 

- “What's wrong with you! He looked happy! We were happy- why you-”

- “I didn't do anything!” Ron spat defensively. Looking at her incredulously. 

- “You made him uncomfortable! You just-Ahg!”

All the excitement and happiness he had felt vanished immediately as it appeared. 

She wasn't used to fights, she wasn't used to any of this, but why should she let it stay like this? Ron wasn't going to apologize, even she hadn't received an apology that she could take as sincere. 

- “What? I didn't mean to-I didn't do it!”

- “Yes, you did as you've been doing it all this time!”

- “Why do you care so much anyway! You know what they are, they... What they do!”

- “They're not doing anything, Ron. In fact in case you haven't noticed they've been the only ones talking to me without insulting me or making me feel bad!”

In any other situation, Hermione would have been embarrassed, but no she couldn't, not here, not now when finally her chance to make a friend had been ruined. 

- “What do you want me to tell you Hermione!” Ron now looked just as annoyed as she did. The look of disbelief turned to features in aggressive tones. 

- “I-i tried to talk to you, you know that, I-I just don't understand why you care so much! Sorry!” 

- “What?”

Ron's gaze calmed once they both realized what they were trying to say, there were hints of embarrassment in the hitched breath from the shouting and arguing. 

- “What does that mean?” Hermione asks, looking at Ron with an expectant look. 

- “¡What do you want, Hermione!” Ron seemed to be trying to find words appropriate to whatever it was he was trying to explain. Whatever this was. 

- “I... I'm sorry, You know, for saying what I said to you before, you were trying to help me and I was just being rude, I'm sorry that what I said left you crying in the bathroom and then a Troll showed up.... And you took the blame, I thought.... I shouldn't- Harry does it too, we...”

Ron was apologizing. Something in her reacted immediately to his apology. - “I wanted to congratulate you, whatever you did worked and Harry's fine, I didn't think he.... I didn't think you...” 

-“It's okay,” Hermione finally found herself saying. -“I guess, I... Maybe we should go see Harry.”

Ron agreed. 

They both walked in the direction of the pitch, where the Gryffindors were still lifting Harry and celebrating the win in the first Quidditch match. 

Ron stopped to greet Harry and congratulate him, it looked like he was telling him something, probably about Snape, as Harry then looked in his direction to give him a real smile. 

She couldn't resist smiling back. 

「♧」

- “I'm so stupid...”

It was a common internal monologue Greg had with himself. 

It was stupid, why was he crying over something stupid? They weren't friends anyway, there was no point in feeling bad just because she had ignored him. 

It was stupid, he didn't cry, not over trivial things or ephemeral events, and in and of itself allowing yourself to cry when sharing a room with people who hated you was a completely dangerous thing to do. 

They were having fun after all, she was laughing, she was clapping, she had apologized to him, no one had ever done that, they were laughing, and like all ephemeral moments, it ended. 

But if they were really having fun, why did she ignore him? Anyway joining the celebration was fine, Greg would say he would also have liked the idea of hanging out with someone and having fun for a while, but why ignore him? She was laughing with Potter and Weasley and Wood as they celebrated. 

And it was fine for her to do that, but why just pretend he didn't exist? 

It was stupid, anyway.

- “What's wrong with you?” Draco's voice came out so suddenly that it made Greg jump out of bed. 

- “When did you get here?” Greg asked, looking down at Draco's prone figure in his bed. 

- “I never left, I just put a blocking spell on the curtains,” Draco pointed out as casually as ever. 

It was something he could do perfectly well, he was always the best at magic of all.

- “What's wrong with you Greg?”

- "Nothing!" Greg answered defensively as he sat up to make his bed and go to sleep. 

- “Nothing is strong enough to make you cry?” Draco serried on his back to face him, Greg backed away once the personal space was drastically reduced. 

-“I wasn't crying!” Greg spat defensively. 

- “Nothing is strong enough to make you sweat out of your eyes, Greg?” Draco replied, arms crossed and rolling his eyes in a sarcastic tone. 

- “It's silly, let's go to sleep.”

If Draco was going to answer anything, the words faded away once Greg closed the curtains for good. Making forced snoring sounds. His sleek figure remained creating a shadow in front of the curtains for a considerable time, even he could hear how the other boy tried to formulate something that eventually died in his throat. 

- "Good.” Draco finally replied. - “Then I guess if you're already asleep, I won't be able to tell you about what I found hidden in-”

- “That you what-” Curiosity was something Greg couldn't resist. Draco smiled somewhat haughtily, he always knew how to make him give in. 

- “So you weren't asleep. Now tell me what the hell is wrong with you.”

- "It's silly Draco, that's all.” the sound his voice emitted was more pitiful and embarrassed than he could have expected, almost like someone who had been crying for several hours. 

- “Well...” Draco finished, finally seeming to understand that Greg really didn't want to say anything about it. 

There was nothing to say anyway, it didn't mean anything anyway. 

- “You know what Erised's mirror is?”

- “No.” Greg answered sincerely. 

-"It's a magic mirror that reflects back to you your deepest and purest desire, your heart's desire." 

Erised, like desired, and this one upside down because a mirror shows the opposite side- of course that made sense. 

- “Ah...” He was surprised. - “Why is it here, it seems valuable, shouldn't it be in the Ministry or something?”

- “Indeed.” Draco looked at him with some pride. “See the point is that this year-” Whatever it was Draco had been about to say, he was suddenly cut off, a feeling of realization manifested in his aura and Draco seemed to think better of what he was going to say. 

- “I overheard a conversation... Interesting between Snape and Dumbledore. This mirror was meant to be brought into the castle this year especially to protect something...”

- “Something like what?”

- “Remember the philosopher's stone?”

- “The Red rock that was stolen from Gringotts?” Greg wrinkled his nose and Draco grimaced at the vulgar term he had just created for the key to immortality.

 - “Yes Greg, the Red rock they stole from Gringotts. The mirror was supposed to be here to protect it, they were supposed to have retrieved it.”

- “Why here?”

- “I don't know, personally I don't see it wise to bring an artifact of such high value to protect a Gem coveted by many, even thieves capable of bypassing Gringotts security, and put it in a castle surrounded by children.”

- “The point is, that's probably not true.” The Rubio boy's eyes glittered with something dangerous. 

- “But what, you didn't listen to Snape and Dumbledore? Why would they lie?”

- “Rather, why would Dumbledore lie?” Draco corrected her question. - “There is nothing that can be done in this castle without his permission.” 

- "Why do you think he did it?” Greg was deep into it now. 

- "The door guarding the mirror is located in a corridor near the library, hidden among statues, that corridor is the one Filch has been frequenting more than others, each of his daily rounds include that corridor, and has done so since the beginning of the year, and the door was also protected with a padlock full of cobwebs.”

- “I understand about Filch, what's with the cobwebs?” Greg wrinkled his nose at that. 

- “That there are a considerable amount of cobwebs in the padlock and latch, means it was there for a long time, much longer than today. And a lot more than since the beginning of our school year, plus it looked like the mirror had been locked there for quite some time, maybe since about June or early July but from the amount of cobwebs, maybe it's further back.”

- “And all this means?” Greg tried to reconnect the threads Draco had been dropping.

If the mirror had been brought in to protect the stone that was stolen in July, but had been brought in before the robbery, it meant that the Gringotts raid had been anticipated long before it happened.

 -“Why would they bring the mirror before they tried to steal the stone, if that's what it was supposed to have been brought in for?”

Draco smiled. - “Exactly.”

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡. 

Chapter Text

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 12 

𝔑𝔢𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰. 

「♤」

The rest of November had been a disaster. 

There was no word that could express or any number that could quantify the amount of frustration Draco felt. 

Of course, neither was there for his hatred, but the difference between hatred and frustration is that frustration is directed at yourself. 

The next morning after the match, Draco decided that "nothing" was too vague to explain why Greg had been crying, a part of him felt annoyed by his sobs, they brought back to his head the cries of the children they occasionally locked in the dungeons of the manor, and while his old self would have ordered him to shut his mouth and let him rest (which he considered, to his own unpleasant guilt) he took a deep breath and calmed down. 

He considered that if something made Greg cry, it couldn't be "nothing" but what could he do? When Greg didn't want to tell him anything. It wasn't as if Draco should make him. 

They both spent the afternoon under the white frost covered trees, the hellish heat of Gryffindor Towers was unbearable for him, especially when he had grown accustomed to the comfortable cold of the lake in the Slytherin common room. 

And whatever his theory about Goldstein had been, he could never check it out, since Greg decided he wanted to get away from him, he didn't understand why, he shouldn't ask if Greg wasn't going to tell him anyway. 

Then, as the frost occasionally melted placidly into the warmth of his body, Greg broke the silence. 

- “Y... Where is this mirror?” the boy had asked, snapping Draco out of his relaxed state. He sat up to look at Greg directly. 

- “In a hallway near the library.” he repeated. -“I told you, why do you ask?”

- "I want to see it.” Finished Greg, then shook his head, -“All the kids are packing their bags... To go home for Christmas break.” he said as he pointed to a group of laughing Slytherins heading in the opposite direction. 

That was true, at that moment November was coming to an end, the kids had already started planning what they would do on their Christmas vacations with their loving families and loving parents. 

Draco wanted absolutely nothing to do with it, in his past life he had been very upset with the loss of Slytherin and had been frequently pestering Potter and Weasley reminding them that it was a shame that the children would have to spend Christmas away from their families. 

He would do so now, thanks to the very kind talking letter his father sent to gently remind him in every shade of blood red possible that he was no longer welcome at the manor for Christmas. Besides, he didn't need to, Christmas with his parents boiled down to fancy parties at the mansion, or otherwise. 

In general, his Christmas was summed up as being farther away from his parents than any other time of the year, only for Christmas Eve where the house elves prepared a feast and presents, the one time of the year when Draco was allowed to see his father smile without dark intentions and his mother look more unkempt than usual. 

It was a sweet reality that brightened his life, which would now be nothing more than a memory and would soon become a blur. Something precious that she would lose with time. 

In any case, the manor was no longer his home, the bloodstained walls were now too unpure for him to drag his fingers happily on them, and the table had been perpetuated, a blasphemy to Malfoy dignity that rendered him completely incapable of even eating at it. 

- "I'm going to stay.” Draco finally reasoned to himself. 

- "Me too.” Greg replied, wrinkling his nose in a questioning gesture. - "Why?”

- "Same reason as you.”

That same night, Draco and Greg had slipped out of the Common Room to reach the hallway where the door that hid Erised's mirror was located. 

They had had to wait until all the Gryffindors were asleep and Draco had also put a few drops of a sleeping potion in the Weasley prefect's drink behind Greg's back, just enough to make him fall into a very deep sleep once he went to sleep. He had secretly brewed it in the potions classroom, he wasn't sure if Snape saw it or not, but if he did, it didn't stop him. 

He couldn't afford to be told off by a Weasley, it didn't matter if it was the Headmaster himself or some Prefect.

Once they turned left, the door manifested again. The cobwebs on the latch and lock were now a bit bunched up and some had fallen on the floor. Greg hid behind a statue while he unlocked the door. 

A resounding ~Click~ was heard as the lock fell silently into his hand, Draco moved to open the door as quietly as he could and Greg moved quickly to enter the place. 

He closed the door behind him. - “So-”

But there was nothing. 

The mirror had disappeared from its place. 

- “What the hell-” Draco looked in the direction of nothingness in surprise, the place where the mirror had once been was now completely empty. 

The only thing hidden inside the four walls that contained them, besides them, was just dust, dirt and some trace of moisture. There were cobwebs and a trail of raised dirt on the floor, from where the mirror had been located, all the way to the door and passing right under their feet. 

- “It's not possible.” Draco slurred the words in surprise, Greg was now looking at the trail of dust as well with a questioning look. 

- “It looks like it was taken.” Greg suggested as he settled against one wall of the room. 

- “Yes Greg, obviously.” Draco tried to be as un-pointed as possible. 

Now, he was terrified. What did this mean? Who would take it?

Snape. 

- “Shit.” Draco leaned against one of the opposite walls. What had he done? Did this mean he had changed the future for the worse? He had no idea, if the mirror wasn't here for Christmas, where would it be? Potter was supposed to find the mirror, how on earth could he then defeat Quirrel? 

Where the hell would the mirror be now? Potter was supposed to find it, who could? He certainly couldn't, he couldn't even understand his own desire.

The mirror was supposed to show you your heart's deepest desire. It was supposed to show him the life he wanted so badly, he didn't know what, maybe his life done and it turns out, without ending up a war criminal, in general what any 11 year old would want for his life, a bloody happy ending.

Why on earth would he show him that grotesque image of Voldemort, what did Dumbledore have to do with what he wanted? 

He wasn't even able to understand his own desire, how on earth was he going to figure out how to defeat Quirrel, but that wasn't even his job, it was Potter's, but if he didn't figure out the mirror...

-“Hey, Draco?” Greg approached him, Draco had been silent for what seemed like minutes, his fingers were digging like claws into his arms as he hugged himself, so much it hurt.

- “Well, you know, maybe they just moved it to clean up the place, besides, if you figured out where it was before, you can do it later.” Greg offered kindly. - "I can always look at it later.”

- “Yeah...” Draco soothed, ignoring the odd sting of his wand going numb in his pocket. - "You're right.”

The rest of the time, it was based on that. 

Draco had been wandering all over the damn castle, every nook and cranny he could get access to or where Draco thought the mirror might be. 

It was hard when his head was spinning, and he only ended up in the same place, he was frustrated, how could he fix this? Even if he discreetly led Harry to the mirror, how could he do that if he couldn't even locate it? 

Draco must have been walking in his head, because the first thing he noticed was that he had bumped into someone. 

A dismayed snort echoed through his haters, someone had made a "tch" with their tongue and now he was face to face with Theodoro nott.

-“Interesting, but look who it is?” Theodore grinned mischievously - “Our favorite blood traitor.”

「✧」

Ron had to accept that the atmosphere Hermione generated with them worked perfectly. 

The bushy-haired girl had been sitting in the room for two hours or so, sharing chocolate sweets with Harry, she was explaining something to him, Whatever she was saying to Harry, Ron had already forgotten. 

She definitely fit in with the atmosphere he and Harry generated, Ron had to assume it was because his attitude contrasted with her, or something, the girl had been frequenting his room more now that they were friends. 

It wasn't that exactly the definition Ron would give her, they usually argued constantly but for some reason Ron was unable to take the arguments with her anywhere, he always gave in to her, he was always right anyway. 

Usually the friendly chats were put on by Harry, they just listened, but she had to admit that something about his presence was.... Comfortable. It wasn't like it still wasn't awkward having her around after he had to apologize to her without even knowing how, but he couldn't stop himself either. 

Something in him wanted them to be able to talk like two friends normally would. 

- “You're not listening to me!“  Hermione landed in front of him to scold him, hands on her hips and an annoyed expression. 

- “What does it matter anyway!” Ron spat as he sat up in Harry's direction. -“Mate, we should be investigating Snape now! I'm telling you, that man is up to something.”

- “We can't do that all the time.” Harry picked his shoulders. - "Hagrid doesn't want to believe us anyway.”

-“Anyway,” Hermione adjusted her hair in exasperation. -“If you were going to investigate anything, it should be that Nicholas Flamel fellow.”

-“We could meet in the library, and do some research,” Hermione suggested.

- “Boring.” Ron snorted. Hermione gave him an exasperated look and let out a huff of annoyance. - “How else do you think we're going to do research about him?”

Ron rolled his eyes earning an amused look from Harry, as always she was on the right point of things. 

Hermione turned in the direction of where Draco Malfoy's bed was. 

A strange aura of sadness invaded his gaze, -“maybe Draco knows something...” Hermione muttered to herself in a muffled tone, but not low enough for it to escape Ron's ears. 

-“Are you kidding me?” Ron spat as soon as mention of Draco Malfoy was made. -“He'll kill us if we ask him!”

-“Uhg, no he won't!” Hermione rolled her eyes. 

-“Of course he will!”

At this point Harry was also squirming uncomfortably completely unable to know what to do or say. 

Here he was again, what on earth did Hermione expect from him? He was a Malfoy, all Malfoy's were the same, annoying rich gits.

Who did he think he was to shout at them or insult them as he had done? He would probably call Hermione a dirty blood as soon as he got the chance, but that was something she just didn't want to accept. 

- “What's wrong with you Ron!” Hermione looked completely pissed off now. - "He haven't done anything to them and all year you've spent the whole year picking on him!”

- “Because I told you what they are!" Ron spat, he could feel the blood pooling in his face now. -“How many times do I have to tell you, he and all of them are just a bunch of nasty snakes!”

- “Harry, tell him I'm right so she'll shut up!” Ron turned in Harry's direction, both he and Hermione were looking at him with questioning and expectant eyes. 

Harry looked completely doubtful. He was more uncomfortable than anything. 

_“Well, he insult to Ron.” Harry replied, Ron let out a satisfied smile. 

_“He insulted him first.” Hermione argued so coldly it burned. -_"Besides, what did he do to you?”

- “Ah-” Harry recoiled at the accusatory look Hermione was giving him now, he seemed more at odds with himself now. 

- “He... well, he was nice to me.”

Ron's eyes widened in complete surprise and a feeling of betrayal built up in his gut. 

- “See!” Hermione crossed her arms. - "All he's done is been a student, he's done nothing wrong to me, he's done nothing to you, and yet you've been isolating him and picking on him just because he exists! Besides, he was the only one who dared to actually talk to me and be nice to me! And as a reward he has been all alone and excluded and picked on!”

- “But how could you know about loneliness, everyone loves you!”

- “You don't know anything about me!” Ron retorted, the tone of voice rising higher and higher. 

-“I know you're just a bully!”

Ron made a sound of disgust in denial at Hermione's accusation. 

- “I'M NOT A BULLY!”

She knew absolutely nothing about his life, she wanted to meet bullies? The Malfoy's were! His brothers kept picking on him all the time! Ron always had to dream them anyway because at least they weren't like the Slytherins, all the dark wizards had come from there! All of them, they had always been the ones with the negative intentions, it wasn't fair for Hermione to accuse him of being a bully, what did she know about it anyway? He had had to put up with bullies throughout his life. 

He had always had to endure the ridicule of all the people, for being poor, for being the smallest, for being the one who always had to carry the leftovers. His father had always told him to be careful with the Slytherins, and he had always been ridiculed by Lucius Malfoy, and it was just a sign that he didn't lie. 

He couldn't be a bully, he couldn't accept being a bully. 

- “Really?” Hermione arranged her bushy hair, lifting her chin in a smug manner. - “Tell me, why did Greg feel intimidated by you?”

- “Greg?” Harry asked.

-"Yes! He came with me when I saved you from Snape, and.... And we were having fun, when you won! But Ron suddenly appeared and made him uncomfortable!”

Hermione folded her arms making an accentuation at the end of her accusation as if she had just won a case. 

- “Well, I don't know why! I didn't even talk to him!” Ron defended himself sincerely. 

He was right about actually, he hadn't said anything to him, the boy had just been spoiled, of course, he couldn't say he didn't find his presence next to Hermione odd anyway, but he hadn't said anything to him either. 

-“I'll tell you why!” Hermione looked in Harry's direction now, as if Harry had anything to do with it. - “Ever since you got here, you've just been saying things about them around, spreading gossip-”

-“I wasn't spreading gossip-

-“And you and your brothers, throwing curses at them all the time.”

-“Those were just jokes!”

They were, they really were, Ron never really wanted to hurt them anyway, Fred and George were doing the same thing all the time and everyone laughed about it. 

- “You're joking with your friends, Ron!” Hermione's voice cracked into something neither he nor Harry could decipher. - “Not with people you don't know, when someone who isn't friendly with you does it, it's not funny, it's bullying!”

- “What do you know anyway!” Ron spat out the words, he just wanted Hermione to stop. 

- “Maybe because I suffered it too!” her arms whipped around in anger, a glassy gleam manifested in Hermione's eyes.

She was on the verge of tears. 

- “It's not funny at all.” the last words out of her mouth sounded muffled, almost like a broken, lickety-split mumble. 

Harry stood in the middle of them both, wishing he could be swallowed up by the earth or just disappear. Before Ron could say anything about it, a new figure loomed in the doorway of the room. 

-“Draco-”

Gregory Goyle had appeared in the room, looking hurried, sweaty and somewhat agitated, as if he had been running for a while. 

The whole room was plunged into complete silence, the three boys looked at each other dubiously about what to do about it. 

- “Ah... You...” Greg's words sounded forced. -“I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything, I'll be leaving now...”

- “Wait!”

To everyone's surprise, it was Ron who stopped him. 

Hermione and Harry gave him confused looks, while Ron processed what he had just done with cheeks red with embarrassment.

-“Ah- Hermione has something to tell you!” Ron croaked pitifully as he pushed Hermione away cowardly, covering himself bodily. 

- “Ah-well I...” Hermione stammered out the words, trying to form a coherent word. 

-“Greg.” Harry spoke now, looking just as uncomfortable, but determined. -"Where's Draco?”

Greg wrinkled his nose in disgust, casting an accusing glance in his direction. - "Why do you care?” he slurred the words menacingly as he narrowed his eyes. 

-“We need him.” Hermione retorted. She opened her mouth to say something else, but whatever it was, it died in her throat. 

- “Well, I don't know where he is.” Greg finished to turn around and go back the way he came. 

- “Please!” Hermione's voice sounded completely broken. - “Just-”

- “No, I don't know where he is.” Greg shot her a conflicted look, biting his lip in the process. 

- “Then... Let us help you look for him.... Please?”

Whatever Greg was about to say, he stifled it, instead letting out a desperate exhale. But he shook his head and fled the room. 

The three children looked at each other in shock as shaky breaths now clamored. 

- “It's late.” After a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, Harry spoke. - “I'll leave you-umm to sort out your business.” He sat up and wiped the chocolate off his fingers with his robe in awkward movements as he headed out of the room as well. 

Hermione and Ron stood completely rigid looking in the direction of the door now, sensing the absence of both of them. 

She shook her head, fixed her hair again and turned to head for the door as well, but Ron stopped her. 

- “Hermione-Ah...'

What was he supposed to do? He wasn't a bully... But Hermione had been about to cry anyway, he had said something he probably shouldn't have and now he was supposed to apologize for it.

But he didn't have to, Hermione didn't know anything about his life, she just couldn't call him a bully...

-“I'm sorry... Again-I didn't-I, I didn't think that you...”

- “Ron, leave it at that.” Hermione offered, trying to save him the effort. 

- “No! I'm sorry, you know, I didn't mean to make you cry, I don't know what I did, okay? But I'm really sorry if I did or said something I didn't-”

Hermione shook her head. - “It doesn't matter.”

-“It's not me you need to apologize to, Ron.”

- "I know, damn it.” Ron was completely embarrassed. - “Just... I'm sorry.” he didn't understand anything, he had nothing to apologize for and yet he was doing it. 

-“It's okay Ron.” she murmured as she gave him a sympathetic look. - “It's okay.”

「♤」

His hand was boiling now. 

Draco could register absolutely nothing, nothing but Theodore's pained face beneath him, he knew vaguely that someone else was talking, he sounded worried. 

He didn't give a shit. 

Whatever he was doing, he was enjoying it, anger boiled with hatred inside him, consuming him, something in him told him he should probably stop, but he didn't want to, whatever he was doing, it was satisfying something primal inside him that he had been hiding for too long. 

The pain-hungry beast he had been chaining deep inside his head was purring now, satisfied with Theodore's body writhing like a worm beneath him. 

His hand was boiling, his whole body was, the smell of sweat and shed tears swirling with something Draco was deeply familiar with. 

The voice was there again, this time it sounded louder, perhaps?

Fear. 

Blood-

-“DRACO, STOP!”

Everything Draco had been ignoring had now hit him roundly. Pansy was on top of him, trying to pull him away from the body of Theodore Nott, who lay completely traumatized beneath him, whimpering like a baby. 

Draco's hand was on fire, Draco hissed once his senses sharpened enough to register the lethal heat that was burning his hand. 

There was a pool of blood, the crimson liquid was staring at him with cruelty and satisfaction, taunting him in his face, Draco was now completely terrified. Theodore's figure had suddenly become a bloody corpse. The smell of iron, rust and rot was now intensifying. 

Draco's wand, his long, sleek black wand was already stuck and bloody in Theodore Nott's right hand, crucifying his arm as the other boy lay dying in pain on the cold hallway floor. 

The snow on the windows drifted in the wind, staining the atmosphere, piling up on the ground around them. 

It was a vulgar and grotesque scene. 

- “What's the meaning of this.”

Pansy Parkinson let out a shriek of utter terror, in front of them, the black, elongated figure of Severus had made his presence known. 

Chapter Text

13 

𝔉𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯. 

「♤」

Draco always loved astronomy. 

In general, Draco loved everything hidden in the universe, celestial bodies had always been his greatest comfort in the most difficult moments for him, watching the stars and admiring their brightness. 

His name belonged to a constellation, his fear of the dark disappeared when Draco realized to himself that even the farthest star in the corners of the universe could shine, and its brightness would travel millions and millions of light years so that he could admire it.

Back then, not even darkness could turn him off.

But now, Draco considered that he was wrong. His brilliance was temporary, it was ephemeral. Like a falling “star”

There was nothing in the universe that could take him out of the reality he was now facing. 

Severus was sitting on the opposite side of him, fingers interlocked together holding his chin, baring Draco's soul with his eyes. Beside him on the desk lay his wand, looking so small and still dirty with blood. 

Severus had been trying to wander in his mind, for maybe about 15 minutes or so, Draco hadn't been paying attention to the time anyway, in fact he was too busy trying to keep his mind protected without looking like he was doing it. 

It was a feat to have to pretend not to notice someone else's presence in his mind, while at the same time keeping his true memories hidden and occasionally letting others slip out, lowering his protections just enough for Severus to get through, but keeping them up just enough as well to make it superficial. 

A part of Draco desperately wanted to let Severus in without restraint, to let him discover the whole truth, everything that awaited him, then he himself could rest and let an adult deal with adult problems. 

But Draco knew perfectly well that the information hidden in his head was dangerous, maybe he had already changed the story by making the mirror move, and he had to solve it now or else they would all be dead.

One false step with that information meant a butterfly effect that would trigger an unpredictable ending that at the same time leaned more towards the negative side of the results. 

Draco had to stifle a sigh of relief once the strange presence disappeared from his mind, he lifted all his protections and let himself take a mental breath. 

-“Impressive.” Severus' disinterested voice flooded the space between them, breaking the silence.-“I've been trying to find a reason for what happened, but no matter how much I ramble, it's impossible for me to know why, in Merlin's name, you did this.”

Severus recomposed himself in his stance, took Draco's wand from the handle and examined it carefully, grimacing at the dried blood pooled at the tip. 

There was no point in Severus looking for a reason, it was far from rational to do so anyway. 

Even in the past (though it couldn't be called the past now) when Draco was nothing more than a spoiled, destructive brat, he glowed, as an eleven year old was supposed to. 

He laughed, he had his birthday parties, in general, he had fun discovering something new every day, things that an ordinary and normal child did during his childhood. But now that no longer existed, everything he was, was nothing more than a remnant of his former brilliance. 

Physically he was, in essence, his younger version. But mentally and deep in his core he gave away his true identity now. 

Even when the stars died, their light traveled millions of light years to reach the earth, even if its previous version had died, no one would notice, only he would know. Because physically he was the same child, but in everything else he was not. 

There was no rational reason for what he had done, Draco couldn't remember it anyway, he had drowned the memory in his sea of Occlumency now, the only thing he could repair was Pansy's voice above him while below him Theodore was only bleeding and writhing violently. 

The answer was probably obvious, Draco hated him. 

But he didn't hate him because he was Theodore, he hated him because he was being he-.

Theodore was now the one who would take his place, and Draco hated him, all his anger was irrational, perhaps because it only reminded him of he. The same spoiled, detached child, incapable of questioning himself. 

Because it was true anyway, no matter how embarrassing it was, that was what Draco had been. 

Eh even now, he couldn't hate him-he shouldn't-Theo was just a child, raised on the wrong side of things, destined to suffer as he did. 

It was unfair, Draco felt helpless about it, it was just a foul whim of fate to put them in a cruel game from which they could not escape.

Draco could never do it anyway, especially since most of his life had been spent trying to live up to his father's bastard expectations, and by the time reality hit him and he realized it, he was desperately trying to save his life and that of his family. Such a radical change overnight that he could have avoided, if he not been a piece on the losing side of the board. 

But now there was nothing Draco could do about it, all he could do now was pray that the consequences of his actions would not swallow him alive. 

-“So...” Snape slurred the words, looking at him with a distaste that made him feel like an aberration. -“Why?”

-“I don't know.” Draco answered truthfully. -“I... I don't know, I don't know anything Severus.”

What was he supposed to do now? Apologize for his actions and say it wouldn't happen again. Theodore had brought it anyway, but Draco couldn't see it that way even if it was true, at least not entirely. 

Maybe if he hadn't been so permissive with Theodore's attitude in the past and had put a stop to it, none of this would have happened. 

-“I don't think you're understanding the gravity of this.”

Severus moved from his spot, walking in an almost dramatic fashion toward him. Even in his nonchalant mask, Draco could tell that the man was obviously disturbed. 

-“Do you have any idea where this leaves you boy! Everything you once considered as life is in jeopardy, all eyes are on you, and yet you make stupid decisions!”

Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. -“What kind of a tantrum is this Draco!”

- “It's not a tantrum!” the fathoms of his anger still not quite cooled. -“I just- I don't know!”

Draco was hugging himself now, tightly, unable to hold himself up, he felt like he was going to collapse. 

How could he explain this? He was unable to, how could he explain it to his parents? How would his mother react if she saw him? 

- “Just don't tell them.”  Draco found himself saying at the thought of his parents in his head. -"Not until I do...”

-"I won't tell them, idiot boy, and neither will you.”

Draco definitely wasn't expecting that. 

-“What?”

Severus looked at him arching an eyebrow in a completely disappointed way, hoping that Draco was on the same page as him.

-“You're lucky I was around and that Mr. Nott was so focused on the pain that he couldn't scream.”

Draco couldn't help but feel bad for Theo, never in either of his lives would he have imagined that they would both end up like this. It was painful. 

- “No Slytherin, as long as I exist, will embarrass our reputation, the problems between us we solve between us, do you understand?”

Draco nodded his head in a sign that he was understanding. He wasn't entirely sure how Severus would keep the whole damn school and his parents from finding out about this, or how Theo and Pansy wouldn't. 

The Potions professor would probably have cured Theodore himself, Madam Pomfrey surely hadn't received any children in her infirmary, she was too loyal to Dumbledore's ideals and his sense of ensuring the welfare of the injured, she would have alerted the proper authorities if she had heard that someone was stabbing children out there. 

Which was what was supposed to be the right thing to do. 

- "Your father and Nott's father, They've long been close allies.” Severus took his place back in the chair, allowing himself to relax his posture. 

He was right, his father and Theo's father had been pushing each other's buttons in the past a lot, though really Draco couldn't call it that, Theo's father was just one more of his father's resources, in an infinite list of them. 

-“But your classification... It's put your father in a bit of a place.... Disappointing.”

However, the difference with his father's other puppets, Mr. Nott was a man who always knew how to get dangerously close to his superiors, he was a man destroyed in every way, who still managed to stay at the top of the social hierarchy. 

Draco didn't know much about besides what Theo allowed him to know. But even for him it was too obvious that Mr. Nott was a man with all sorts of bad vices, besides being a Death Eater he was an alcoholic, a frustrated narcissist who did the impossible to maintain his position in society, he always knew how to get the everyone's nerves. 

He had been glad in a way that Mr. Nott wasn't too present in Theo's life, but that at the same time made him feel guilty. After all, Mr. Nott's absence in Theodore's life caused him the same damage that his father's presence in his life did to he. 

Draco always considered them both as an ironic parallel to each other. They were both on the same wrong side of events under opposite conditions. 

-“Just as Theodore Nott took advantage of that to usurp the place I assume was meant for you, Mr. Nott used that to ridicule your father and put him in a position that will weaken his status.”

It was ridiculous for Draco to believe that a simple sorting in the wrong house would bring so much trouble, but here were Theo and him.

- “There is no adequate means that can express your father's disapproval and displeasure at this situation.” Severus gestured to a stack of letters piled in a drawer. 

-“And the last thing he wants is another reason that might justify some foul play on Mr. Nott's part. So no, you won't tell him, and neither will I. I won't stand for another ridiculously long letter from your reprehensible father.”

Impossible was that Theodore wouldn't tell his father afterwards, or maybe not, Mr. Nott and Theo were never on the same page anyway, if Theo came home for Christmas he would probably just be existing there and then, as he had always been. 

Part of Draco couldn't help but feel guilty about that, but his other part was relieved. Why did he have to risk it anyway when he had bigger problems to deal with? It had been Theo who had bothered him. 

But he couldn't just justify himself with that either anyway, he would never have been able to do it, Potter did it when he threw a sectumsempra at him and left him dying in a bathroom, he couldn't do the same. 

He would be better than Potter at least. 

But, it was unfair that he had to go through that anyway, why him? Why Theo? Why Theo was so driven and determined to be he, Theo had always known what it meant, what it was like to have to fill empty expectations, what it was like to have to grow up with misguided ideals and then conclude that your whole life was a sham, and not content with that not being able to escape. 

Theo saw he collapse, saw him collapse and saw his brilliance die, like a star giving in to its own strength reaching the end of its life cycle and exploding, but even then, Theo endured it, crashed with the celestial bodies that were formed from what was left of him. 

And even when it affected him too, Theo was still there for he. Had it really all been fake? 

He deserved it. Or maybe not, Draco couldn't determine. 

- “Just for the record, that doesn't mean you won't get out of this.” Severus said firmly. - "Sooner or later it will catch up with you, boy, and I hope that when it does I won't have to save your hide again." 

Draco swallowed hard. 

- “What was the sleeping potion for?” The man slurred the words ever so casually. 

Draco thought for a second, he had two choices, tell him about the mirror and profit from the information Severus would give he in response, or keep quiet, regardless of what he said, if Draco couldn't live up to the alibi of a waif simply seeking solace in a magic mirror and Severus found out there was a dual purpose behind his actions, he would be in more serious trouble. 

-“I found a mirror in a room near the library. On the day of the match, I... The mirror showed me something, I wanted to keep seeing, so I made a sleeping potion so I could go visit it without Weasley discovering me.”

Severus arched his eyebrow at the response, clearly impressed by the cleverness of the idea and somewhere, Draco could sense some specter of pride somewhere. The man's face remained unchanged, though. 

-“What did he show you.” the man discreetly moved closer to gain more access to Draco trying to sound genuinely interested, but Draco could feel Severus' presence trying to enter his mind again. 

His protections would by now be impenetrable and unbreakable, but Severus never needed to break anyone's protections when he knew how to make others give in, Draco couldn't stay up all night trying to protect his head from intrusion, he would become physically fatigued eventually. 

Besides, Draco couldn't simply deny Severus' intrusions, if it looked like he was trying to hide something, his whole alibi would fall apart, not to mention how suspicious it was that he could manage to keep Severus out of his mind when he was supposed to be a mere 11 year old with barely above basic knowledge of Occlumency. 

However, he couldn't create a false memory either, or an image close enough to one, that never worked. Of others, he could let Severus wander in his mind.

Draco simply could not allow Severus to see the real memory, if he did, it would be the end. 

If the man found nothing, then Severus would not be able to determine whether or not he was lying, and if Draco managed to look sincere enough, Severus would give in. 

- “I saw my parents.” Draco dropped his protections enough to let the strange presence pass, let Severus swim in shallow water, if he managed to make him feel that neither there was anything beyond the surfaces, such an intrusion would fail to notice the depth. 

-“They were telling me that they were proud of me, no matter what I did, they would always love me.” Draco's voice cracked into something plaintive, how could Severus not believe him, if after all Draco was being partly honest? 

It was a wish that he would be unable to fulfill anyway, but a part of Draco felt that it was what any eleven year old boy in the world would want deep down inside. 

Severus grimaced in dissatisfaction, but hummed in affirmation. The presence disappeared completely. 

-“I assume you know what that mirror was?” questioned Severus. Draco nodded his head. 

-“Well, Dumbledore has it, stop looking for it.” Severus said, sounding extremely forceful. 

That made Draco reconnect something, an idea. 

He never found out how the mirror was supposed to be used to guard the stone, he never paid enough attention to the stupid kids who bragged about it anyway, but if his theory that the mirror had been in the school before was correct, meant that it was indeed foreseen that the stone would be stolen, then Dumbledore would wait for just the right moment to take the mirror and guard the stone. 

If that was true, then perhaps Draco hadn't interfered with anything, he probably wouldn't even have changed anything, just the time lapse in which he discovered the mirror had been intertwined with the time lapse in which Dumbledore took it to prepare it. 

But if that was the case and the mirror wasn't moved because it was discovered, Dumbledore eventually returned it to its place on purpose, and let Potter find it eventually. 

Why? What was his plan? 

-“Why Dumbledore-”

-"What did your mother tell you about asking questions about things you weren't supposed to know the answers to?”

Draco stopped talking immediately. 

 「♤」

Draco walked down the halls with quick steps, the elegant posture he normally maintained was gone. He turned one of the corners and walked into a bathroom, it was probably the girls bathroom or not, he didn't even know if it had been repaired yet, Draco had paid attention to nothing but finding a sink. 

He pulled his long black wand from his pocket, his fingers trembled as he grabbed it from the handle, Severus had cleaned it with magic, but it still felt like it was dirty. 

Draco was disgusted, he scrubbed his wand with water as much as he could, trying to make the imaginary blood go down the drain. 

Once he was halfway satisfied, he leaned against one of the sinks, breathing violently. 

He stifled every sensation as he inhaled and exhaled, the air rushing in and out of his lungs so fast he could feel himself starting to choke. 

Would he ever be able to look Theodore in the eyes again? He wasn't even sure about that. He couldn't admit that he wasn't glad he wasn't in trouble, but he had to be, he didn't know how Snape would manage to keep Theo and Pansy from talking, but he hoped that if they did, the earth would have swallowed him up by then. 

The memory of Theo's blood on his wand was bringing back unwanted memories, the dungeons of the manor, the corpses, it was all coming back to him now. 

How could he possibly be haunted by something that hadn't even happened yet? But stabbing Theo in the hand had happened, it was something he had done. 

He had stabbed Theodore, his best friend, why? 

Draco didn't even know, he really didn't know, whatever Theo said to trigger such a primal impulse, he found it completely hard to believe. 

-“Draco? why are you in the girls' bathroom?”

Draco's body spun violently, reacting immediately alert to the invader by pointing his wand in the direction where the voice had come from. 

Suddenly he was in sixth year, looking at Harry Potter pointing his wand at him, and in a matter of seconds Draco would be on the floor in agony from the sectumsempra. 

"Wow- calm down!" Greg threw his arms up in the air and croaked in fear, in holding himself as much as he could in place staring wide-eyed at Draco's wand. 

Draco let himself fall against the wall, slipping until he was resting on the cold damp bathroom floor, taking more methodical and leisurely breaths, trying to calm himself down. 

The bathroom wasn't quite repaired. 

The two boys settled, waiting for Draco to calm down, waiting for his nerves to stop vibrating with electricity. 

A few minutes passed, or maybe seconds, the notion of time was completely vague now.

-“I stabbed Theodore Nott.”

To both of their surprise, Draco said, letting the words out naturally, if Greg disappeared now, Draco would understand. 

But he didn't go away. 

-“You did what?” Greg's voice distorted into a raised tone of confusion. 

-“I don't know.” Draco said, settling his arms around his knees and curling deeper into himself. -“I don't know! I don't know why-don't ask me why. He just- pansy- I...”

Draco didn't think this through, he was overwhelmed, terrified, but how could he accuse Greg of that? After all he deserved to know the truth too, at least he did. 

- “I- I was walking down the halls, I wanted to find the mirror, no what happened and I bumped into him in the hallway, he said something- or maybe I- I don't know, all I remember is that then I was on top of him!.. And pasy-she yelled at me to stop-” 

He was taking sharp breaths again -“I don't know how much time passed, out of nowhere Theo was bleeding-my wand was stuck in his hand- I-I-I.... Severus, he was with us-he took them away.... I don't know what he did, but then he took them to his office, we talked and he told me not to worry but- I don't know, Greg I don't know- shit, Merlin-”

Greg was watching and listening completely absorbed to all of Draco's babbling, he stopped for a moment and then just a nervous laugh. 

-“Merlin, Draco” Greg settled closer. - "I thought you stabbed him in the stomach or something-” Draco would have laughed in any other context. 

-“Calm down dude, he'll be fine, well-if Snape said not to worry then don't, besides it's obvious you didn't mean to attack him, surely he provoked you-”

-“It's not a justification!” Draco snarled the words with contempt, Greg cleared his throat. 

- “It's not, but.... Well, I know sometimes people do things when they get caught up in the heat of the moment, it's obvious you didn't mean to- it'll probably all go back to normal later” Greg snorted nervously, sounding unsure of his own words. 

- "You can apologize later-” he puzzled. - “Although I don't think Nott would mind your apology, but if Snape says not to worry about it, then don't worry about it.”

- “Besides, I don't know why it affects you so much- Well, I suppose it's normal it does when you do something you didn't mean to do, but Nott's only been bothering you and everyone else after all.”

Greg was right, after all, because Draco didn't have to have a reason beyond the moral, right? 

After all, he and Theo weren't friends, he wasn't his best friend, none of that was going to happen, the reality now was different. 

Theo was no longer the person he had been in his previous life, he was no longer anyone else, he would no longer be. 

Now they had only hurt each other, if this experience could keep Theo away from him forever, then it was for the best.

- “Just-calm down.” Greg continued, he wasn't sure of how to move forward, yet looking determined to do so. Draco wondered why.

- "Maybe you can apologize to him later, even if Nott doesn't accept your apology, I suppose you'll have a clear conscience knowing you tried.”

- “Yes...” Draco allowed a vague sense of reassurance at the idea to be what finally calmed him. A wave of peace coursing through his entire body. 

- “Maybe I can do that.”

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡. 

Chapter Text

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 14

𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔠𝔬𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔦𝔫. 

「♤」

When the vacations arrived, there immediately began to be multiple reasons why Draco had begun to question the possibility of committing suicide and restarting his life. 

No, winter was still the same, there was no place that could escape the merciless bite of the ice, the frost piled up more, the cold became more intense, and overall his loneliness did not change.

Before it was the same, the only difference was that at least he was with his family. 

But, his father, as the responsible, loving and reasonable father figure that he was, only sent him a letter telling him that he didn't want to see even the shortest of his platinum-blonde hair for Christmas. 

His mother on the other hand sent him a letter saying that he was just being dramatic and that he would eventually get over it. In fact, he was supposed to receive a gift from his father, but Draco was more than sure that it was really just his mother who sent it making it seem as if it was his father who sent it. 

Draco knew all her tricks, even if she hadn't used them yet. 

But that bothered him, because it was cruel, because Draco should allow himself to be tricked by his mother into believing that his father still loved him? He didn't care anymore anyway. Or maybe he still did, but that was something he wouldn't allow himself to think about. 

On the other hand, when Granger went back to the Muggle world to spend Christmas with her parents (because at least she could) Greg sought her out earlier to talk to her, something Draco absolutely did not want to find out why, Greg wouldn't tell him anyway. 

Which hurt his feelings a little, it hurt him deep down to know that Greg didn't trust him either. But he couldn't let himself believe that either. 

Besides, as if that wasn't enough, Theodore had left him completely distraught. The boy didn't determine it but nothing more to upset him, he acted as if none of the previous events had happened and in general Draco could believe that maybe that could be true, because there wasn't even a physical trace of their confrontation. 

It had only been days, and still there was no sign of an... injury, as if Draco hadn't stuck his wand in his hand, of course, Severus could afford to boast such great skill as to undo any evidence.

 But even psychologically there didn't seem to be a trace, the only way Draco could believe that was with an Obliviate, but to believe that Severus would be willing to protect his backside so much that he would go so far as to throw an Obliviate at Theo? It was just too much.

And while Theodore didn't accept any apology, at least Draco could feel better about reminding himself that he had really tried. 

That didn't take away the stinging in his mind, the fresh memory brought with it a sea of damning memories that tried to surface in his mind and haunt him all over again. 

Draco usually couldn't walk down a hallway or see the frost on the snow without feeling that sting again, the smell of blood, even if it was imaginary. The only consolation was that he could drag those memories back to the back of his mind. 

Much deeper than his subconscious, much deeper than his conscience, where not even in his dreams could those memories reach him. 

Besides, and worst of all, the whole Weasley pack had stayed for Christmas, that would surely be the greatest condemnation for the foulest and most cowardly sin ever committed. And Draco could not afford to fail-.

He felt disgusted, jealous- most of the presents were theirs, how could a poor and uprooted family who kept their house practically by magic also be so happy? How could a couple with an absurd amount of children feel so happy and receive so many gifts? 

Even he, being an only child and firstborn, had known the cold clutches of loneliness, contempt and disappointment from his parents. But none of the Weasleys did, of course, they might have family problems, like any family. 

But it was obvious to Draco that they were loved. That was hilarious. 

But beyond that, there wasn't a single moment where Harry Potter's bloody green eyes would look at him, glance at his bed every time he got up, or slyly as Draco paced the castle. 

That was... Even more frustrating and unnerving. 

Draco couldn't take it anymore, even the boy could play that he was going to drown if he kept sleeping in the same room as them, so he started using the Room of Requirements again. 

Draco took advantage of the fact that the student population had dropped so he could sneak into the wizarding hall again, it was fun, partly because he could make dummies or figures manifest to which he could cast magic spells continuously until he got tired, it was a good thing after all for his magical core and his magical strength to practice. 

Draco had spent enough time ignoring the fact that he was an adult wizard in the physical body of a child, his magical power at this point equaled that of an EXTASIS level wizard or more, and if Draco became more familiar with the concept, perhaps at that age he would be one of the most powerful wizards of his generation. 

Maybe he could save more lives, he had already spent too much time destroying them. 

But then Greg started asking him all too obviously where he spent the night, even in front of Potter and Weasley as the two idiots occasionally played magical chess, though Potter looked more like the pieces were playing with him. That had earned them strange looks, Draco simply didn't answer him. 

Greg hadn't told he anything about what was happening to him anyway, so why should he? 

Besides, it was a passable break from Quirrel's presence. 

Quirrel was everything Draco hated about someone. 

Even as a Ravenclaw, Quirrel had abandoned every value or virtue of one, had thrown away his life and body for him.

Even if he was nothing more than a foul and filthy remnant, a mockery of the Voldemort of the past, Quirrel allowed him to parasitize he, allowed him to live in his body and corrupt his conscience, gave up his life to something so contemptuous that he did not deserve to drink. 

That was not Honor, not intelligence or ambition, it was perversion. Draco was disgusted. Quirrel's presence made him uncomfortable. 

Even if the man stammered like an extremely frightened child, complained in pain in increasingly pitiful ways when the Weasley twins teased him, and shrieked in a way that made anyone pity him. Draco was just... apathetic. 

Unable to empathize with someone like him, the example of a Death Eater, someone who sought only to bow his head and obey, even if it involved losing his own body, was the most deplorable thing anyone could do, a complete mockery of life and his expression in the world. 

Usually, whenever Draco saw him near his presence, he would tighten his protections and keep his guard up, putting on an apathetic and inflexible face whenever Quirrel addressed him, Draco hoped that would scare him away. "I'm not like the others, you can't fool me” was just something Draco would express to him, but Even so the man only seemed to take more interest in him.

Unclean, deplorable, depraved. 

The endless solitude of the Room of Requirements was a comfort. Draco would definitely miss him. So he would enjoy it as best he could. 

But that night he couldn't, no doubt, the mirror was a higher priority, at least to his conscience, maybe if he saw it one more time where it was supposed to be, he would be at ease. 

His sleep schedule didn't matter to him anymore anyway, he had grown accustomed to sneaking out when others slept.

Though it would cost him even more to do so, Draco would have to move more stealthily and try to access the door without allowing himself to be followed by any presence, he had found it hard to do so now, he knew Quirrel had been watching him since the school year had started. 

It was his fault, of course, if Draco had been more careful he would know, he wouldn't have to worry about Quirrel following him. It was an advantage in itself that the man believed he hadn't sensed his presence before, ever since he started sneaking out at night, Quirrel had been following him like a wraith but,  Draco to just wander around the place like a lost child, and then just wander into the Room of Requirements, that probably unnerved him. 

The problem was that this time he wasn't going to the Room of Requirements

The obvious thing was that Quirrel was looking for the stone, and the mirror with it, they're at Hogwarts for a reason anyway, Draco had to make sure he didn't hand it to him on a silver platter. 

But he also had to prepare himself mentally if the mirror wasn't in the room where it was supposed to be, even it would have taken him so long to get there without Quirrel following him, the frustration of the mirror not being there would kill him.

Too bad Quirrel had no regard for his humanity anymore, maybe if he still did and slept like his body demanded instead of wandering around the dark forest killing unicorns, things would be easier.

Draco moved towards the door of the room, the moonlight was the only illumination he could use as a tool.

He was completely unaware of the time, the other children's bodies moving only in methodical and relaxed breaths. 

He was being as stealthy as he himself could be, head down and walking on tiptoe, posture erect enough not to lose his balance, his wand (majestic even in the dark, the wretch) was tightly secured in his hand. 

Draco passed by the beds, ignoring the odd grunts Weasley let out between dreams, but stopped suddenly when Greg started to move a little too much for someone who was supposed to be asleep. 

-“Mmmm-” The boy moaned in a sleepy tone. He readjusted his sheet and settled back into his bed. 

Draco let out a small, quiet puff of air he had been holding in. He advanced across the room and made his way with silent feet down the damned spiral stairs. Percy Weasley and the other members of his pack and Gryffindors were sleeping peacefully. 

There was not a sound, even above the haze of the night environment that was normally filled with ambient sound, the cold and snow was the only evidence in the atmosphere, Draco had been partly thankful that his body seemed to have memory of his experience as a Death Eater. 

Something he wasn't proud of anyway, even if it was the only thing still keeping him alive. 

He moved throughout the Common Room, moving through it, put on a charm to block out the sounds in the place and allowed himself, with deft hands, to maneuver the portrait of the fat lady to open the final entrance to the exit. He slithered like a snake, dropping nimbly to the cold floor, crouching as low as he could. 

-"Hey!” the fat lady let out a shriek. - "Who's there! Pevees! Is it you?”

But no one answered. 

-“It's just my imagination.” The fat lady closed again. Draco hurried up. 

He definitely couldn't boast that he knew the castle like the back of his hand, but he wasn't a novice, he knew the castle well enough not to get lost. 

He had learned to assess his surroundings, to sniff and sniff and connect and sharpen his senses, his trained eyes allowed him to see and feel the magic, swirling around him, magic just as old as the castle that intertwined and, even over the years, had managed to attract magic even older than it. It was a compass. 

And indeed, it was, not the most reliable and generally the most strategic thing, but if Draco concentrated hard enough, the magic of his surroundings allowed him to determine how close or far he was from what place. 

The Library, the astronomy tower and the classrooms were the places where magic vibrated the most, only barely surpassed by the Room of Requirements. The corridors were like the threads that connected these spaces. 

So, when a room or space that didn't have a magical presence in it before and then did, (for example a magical artifact) then it would feel weaker there or stronger there, depending on whether or not it had before.

Of course, it was difficult for Draco to determine if this was correct because the whole castle was practically magic and bricks. But the mansion and many other buildings in the magical world were as well. 

It was like playing the odds, he had been doing it constantly during his search for the mirror, and all the odds had resulted in negative resolutions, but if the mirror had already been returned to its place, then that small chance that he was on his way to a positive resolution this time would be reality. 

However, he would have to wait.

Someone else had begun to follow him, it was a sixth sense, the malevolent presence of Quirrel trying to reach him, it was a chill on the back of his neck. 

Draco moved nimbly in the direction of the library, past the forbidden section and then followed the corridor, turning. He ran with silent footsteps down the corridor and then retraced these uselessly and purposefully. He pretended to be puzzled and retraced his steps again, turning in the opposite direction.

Running mindlessly in as many directions as he could get without straying too far from his original destination, the statues remained motionless, guarding the walls, and then he came to a different corridor. 

Wider than the rest, it was a space that began and continued to the end, the statues were positioned against both the left and right walls, facing each other in their opposite directions in silence. There were torches nailed to the highest part of the walls before touching the ceiling.

The snow frost was falling, the landscape that was drawn was absolutely beautiful. The moon illuminated the night swimming in a sea of infinite stars. 

Draco allowed himself to rest for a moment, even though he didn't need to, at this point he had run for 10 minutes or so without a break. But looking completely unperturbed, he allowed himself to register the details on the walls, waiting patiently. 

Suddenly the night was too dark. -“Lumos” Draco whispered, the tip of his wand let out its magic, and light was made. 

A humanoid figure manifested on the opposite side of the hallway, wearing a long dark robe, almost floating in the air like a specter amidst the darkness. He recoiled as he was exposed, looking completely surprised. 

Draco stared at it blankly, as deeply still and upright as he could stand, waiting patiently for the figure to fade into the darkness. 

But he didn't, instead he moved forward. 

Draco gulped. 

-“So this is what it's coming to,”- he couldn't specifically claim that he hadn't dueled someone yet, but then again, he hadn't dueled someone in a considerable amount of time either. 

One of the arms of the robe was raised, protruding what Draco, even in the dark, could swear was the tip of a wand.

Suddenly the torches on the walls flared, fire bursting out of nowhere. The creature waited. 

- “That doesn't scare me.”- thought Draco, a cheap trick wouldn't make it back down, besides, it had done him a favor. - “Well, then this is what it is.”-

He had to push him away, he couldn't afford to give him the only chance he had to survive his first year, he wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that, he wasn't going to let everything he had suffered so far be in vain. 

Draco settled his stance again, upright, holding his wand like a sword. The creature responded by looking amused. 

That could be strategic. If this being was underestimating him like a child, then Draco could afford to use that to prove to it that he wasn't. 

-“Expelliarmus!” Draco let out with a moderate volume to his voice, no one would be able to hear them anyway, but he wasn't usually loud. The red glow that his wand let out was directed without moderation in the direction of the figure in front of him.

The figure turned nimbly to dodge it, the beam of red light slammed into one of the walls of the corridor behind him, leaving a black smudge.

Indeed, this being seemed completely surprised to be challenged by an 11-year-old boy.

Something in the atmosphere suddenly changed, boiling with anger and hatred. All that had once been calm and stillness in the silence of the darkness had vanished completely. 

The figure lunged in Draco's direction, shooting a white light from his wand that shot furiously in his direction. Draco leapt deftly to the side, dodging. The spell echoed behind him as it hit the ground. 

- “Depulso!” Immediately Draco conjured as he knew how, with boiling agility amidst silent fury. 

White ripples of magic glowed, pushing the figure back with force. -“Diffindo!” The pink light shot straight at the figure on the ground, impacting against the being's organic body, Draco could hear a hiss of sharp pain. 

In his heart Draco felt hatred- there was no other feeling that could describe the state he was in, it swirled in his blood, pulsing through his veins and hissing like a viper left his skin. 

The creature was up in the blink of an eye, launching a blast of hot magic that sent Draco flying, crashing into one of the walls. 

He was boiling hot. 

-“Accio!” he no longer cared about the volume of his voice, his wand screamed with the same fury now. One of the statues behind the figure was swiftly drawn and up to where Draco was situated, slamming hard into the man's body and knocking him off balance. 

Draco couldn't, he simply couldn't afford to lose-losing and dying were the same thing to him. No one would come for him, no one would save him, he had learned that too late but now he could do it again, he could save himself.

His past self had fled in terror before him, cowardly, now he was ready to face him and each of the ghosts of his past. 

「♧」

Greg drifted in and out of sleep, completely unable to get to sleep at all, even if he had been trying and succeeding, it was of a very short duration, he was not able to stay asleep.

It was Christmas cheer, perhaps, even if his parents weren't with him and he hadn't spoken to them since boarding the platform train. Sure, he would certainly get a present, but it wasn't the same. 

He couldn't really see his parents, he always felt like a disappointment or a tragedy, but at least before Christmas he could allow himself to feel loved, now he would get a gift, but not a rewarding reminder of anything, not even a letter asking him why. 

The only one he had to spend Christmas with was Draco, who had been spending the whole time sneaking off into the night and doing things that were definitely foreign to him, and he couldn't understand yet either. 

They had stabbed Theodore Nott, in the arm, and Greg couldn't quite register why-yes, Theo and he... They were always the closest, but now they weren't, and rather Theo enjoyed usurping Draco's position in their little hierarchy.

 Something that Greg certainly found a little disturbing, that all the things Theo did for and to Draco were nothing more than a ploy to... What, for this? That was strange, even he himself could understand why Draco would have stabbed him. 

It wasn't a justification, but a reason, Greg could guess that maybe it was stress. But the Draco he had known who had changed drastically overnight wouldn't do anything like regret that, or suffer for it anyway.

Still, he'd just been sneaking out of the Common Room all the time, even at night, and Greg was worried about where the hell he slept, obviously it had to be somewhere sophisticated enough for Draco to consider sleeping there, he wasn't a dog or a poor tramp to sleep on the floor. 

Although if he did it would probably be in the astronomy tower, but Greg had already been there and hadn't found it. And when he asked Draco just did the best thing he knew how to do, get angry and give everyone a dirty look. 

But he was the only person he could spend Christmas with, he didn't want to do it alone. Had he done something wrong? Greg certainly didn't know, he knew Draco was angry about something but he couldn't understand why. 

He pulled himself together, got out of bed and bit his lip trying to think properly or as an intellectual person was supposed to do, if he interrupted the boy's restful sleep he would probably find himself in more serious trouble, but on the other hand he could sort things out and put this whole situation behind him. 

He swallowed his fear, Draco wasn't going to kill him anyway (or maybe he was, in his dreams, Which, coming from Draco, was scary enough). 

He stood up in the dark, moving quietly so as not to try to wake Potter and Weasley, he was uncomfortable enough as it was. 

He couldn't understand either how both children, despite being away from their family, could be so happy and content all the time, it caused some envy. 

He tried to focus on the darkness, but it was impossible, so he simply reached for his wand and tried to conjure a spell he had heard Granger and Draco conjure as well.

Draco, after a while, had explained to him what he needed to conjure spells correctly, or from his way of looking at it, but he was too good and in fact even many students of even higher grades seemed to be jealous of his ability, so Draco's way must definitely be the right one. 

He concentrated as hard as he could, trying to visualize whatever he wanted, drew with his wand and whispered. 

-“Lumos...” A small glow manifested from the tip of his wand, gathering strength until it was completely persistent. Greg lowered his hand and immediately realized that it was glowing a little too brightly for late at night.

A part of him was completely surprised that he got it right the first time, to master the levitation spell took him a week and that he still couldn't get it under control enough. 

He moved in the direction of Draco's bed, but surprisingly he wasn't there. Greg let out a sigh. 

Greg definitely wasn't going to be able to sleep, so maybe looking for Draco would be the only thing he could do, at least he could show him that he managed to conjure a lumos on the first try, besides he didn't remember exactly how to undo it. 

He left the room and walked down the stairs of Caracol, feeling a bit irritated by the cold and the sensation of the hard stone on his bare feet. He also couldn't ignore the little twinge of adrenaline every time he did this, maybe he would never get used to it. 

Draco had guided him last time, Greg definitely didn't know how the boy managed to move without making the slightest sound, maybe it was because he was thinner. 

Greg stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the exit shaft of the common room, being completely blocked by the portrait of the fat lady. This was going to take him a while. 

「♤」 

They had been in this constant dance for almost half an hour now, he wasn't bleeding but he wasn't intact either. 

The figure had sent him a blast spell strong enough to send him flying all the way down the hall, lifting him up and causing him to stumble, landing incorrectly on his ankle. 

And the creature, the wretch seemed completely untouched, unperturbed as if he hadn't been dueling for nearly 30 minutes. 

Additionally it was a dirty trick by his opponent, Draco was unable to concentrate one hundred percent on this intruder, not if he had to keep his mental protections constantly up and alert to the prickling sensation of a presence constantly trying to enter his head. 

Sure, Draco had to keep a cool head, but it was obvious that the figure had been holding back, as if he were weak. 

He was not weak, and he was certainly not to be underestimated. 

But that could also be an advantage if he knew how to use it, the figure was holding back because even if this specter was stronger, he could do nothing, because what was underneath the robes was a weakened and parasitic being, surviving in the most rash, humiliating and drastic ways. 

-“You're holding back...” Draco let out a small laugh. -“That's going to cost you a bit.”

Taking advantage of the lowered Guard, he pointed his wand quickly, too quickly to be registered by the figure he was aiming at. 

-"Everte statum!”

his magic shot out, taking shape and changing, a beam of orange light shot against the figure, pushing him violently through the air, crashing him into the ceiling and sending him crashing to the ground far away from him. Rolling across the cold floor on the dirt and dust. 

Draco pulled himself together, ignoring the growing pain in his ankle, wiping the dirt from his pajama. He was panting now. 

He couldn't afford to lose, not to anyone, least of all Quirrel, such a deplorable being, someone who committed even the foulest and most cowardly sin, someone he gave his own life to a parasite of the world. 

-“Avis...” A deafening sound, like a small explosion, and then a flock of silvery birds shot out from the tip of his wand, moving furiously around his body, leaving a trail of silver lus wherever they flew. 

Draco couldn't think, anger bubbling in his mind. All he wanted was to make him suffer. 

The figure soon pulled itself together again, this time it didn't hesitate, red electric bolts shot at Draco. 

-“Protejo!” almost blinding lights manifested into view as the beams slammed into the magical surface. Some extinguishing against it and others bouncing angrily off the walls of the corridor, leaving black spots and small sparks. But the force of the impact staggered him, the shield had been broken.

He shot out, running around the figure being followed by his small army of birds. The figure launched a flare of fire in his direction. He quickly ducked to avoid it, but jumped to the side as a red bolt of lightning flew furiously at him, hissing at the pain in his ankle from a bad landing. 

An explosion rang in his ears as Quirrel's bombarda slammed into one of the torches, immediately exploding them into a thousand tiny pieces of hot wood and metal. 

-“Oppugno!” with a bold move, he pointed his wand at the dark-robed figure, the silver birds immediately shot like bullets in Quirrel's direction, attacking and scraping his robes mercilessly, drawing blood. 

Notes of pure rage and pain from the figure echoed down the hallway, the birds scratched and pecked at everything around him once they managed to quickly tear the cloths that confined him. The birds attacked violently, injuring and tearing everything around him. 

Draco took this as an opportunity, unable to allow himself to give in he raised his wand quickly and almost shouted - “Incarcerous!” the ropes shot out in the direction of the wraith who was expelling sounds of pain. 

A growl of almost hellish rage, something monstrous echoed with murderous fury throughout the hallway. The figure suddenly burst forth a wave of powerful, dark magic. A black smoke suddenly vanished the silver birds, leaving their ephemeral thin trails as a reminder of its existence. Draco was again pushed against the wall, but this time with more force, gasping as a sharp pain shot through his body. 

He felt a shiver run through every inch of his skin immediately after. But he pulled himself together immediately. 

-“Sectumsempra!”

Draco let out the words like an animal, a roar that came from the most primal part of his being. A white light shot out from the tip of his wand, heading in the direction of the figure standing in front of him. 

- “Confringo!”

a monstrous sound rang out in unison with him, a distorted, dark voice, its notes fading into the background like the hissing of a snake. It was extremely unbearable to listen to. The explosive curse was at the same time directed in his direction, crashing his magic, against his curse, his death-. 

It all came down to this moment, all the anger Draco had been building up for so long eclipsed in this moment, coming out, the beast that slept deep within his mind was released and it was as if something from deep within him had been released along with his spell, Draco concentrated every fragment of his consciousness on this moment. 

He couldn't afford to lose, or to die. Both were equally as bad. 

The white lightning bolt that shot from the tip of his wand clashed against the curse that threatened against him, holding in a power play that Draco knew all too well. 

But before a denouement could occur, the dark figure cackled, a sound devoid of all grace, just deep and dark, utterly evil. 

Suddenly, both spells were surprisingly deflected, the White lightning bolt that was previously coming from his wand slamming into one of the statues, and Draco could see in shocked horror that the entire statue fell apart, convulsing violently in place as fragments of its parts fell off in endless gashes. Being completely reduced to pieces of iron scattered on the floor. 

The explosive curse exploded against one of the swords holding one of the statues, causing it to explode into hundreds of fragments in an ear-bleeding noise. The statue lost its balance and fell to the ground immediately. 

The figure let out another small laugh, just as evil, and as soon as it appeared, it vanished into the darkness, as if it had merged with the shadows. 

Draco was shocked, everything around him was a mess, fragments of wood, metal, iron and concrete had scattered everywhere, a cloud of dust covered everything around him and where the deflected spells had collided before, black stains formed on the floor and walls. 

Draco hissed at the deep pain in his ankle, without a second thought he pointed his wand and incanted. -“Episkey!” followed by a -“Ferula” that wrapped around his ankle properly once the stinging of the aftermath ceased. 

Draco was panting, his wand pulsing in his hand, he was completely absorbed in the event. He had used Sectumsempra, he wasn't supposed to use it. 

He had made a rule for himself, the only spell he would use on Severus was Langlock, and no others, especially Sectumsempra. Even when Draco had reverted to his 11-year-old self, he still woke up in the mornings and swore he saw traces of the scars. He wasn't going to be like Potter. No matter who was, and how much that “who” deserved it, he was never going to use sectumsempra. 

But he broke that rule, all because he was unable to think straight, he could have used any other curse, but not that one. 

He let himself breathe, calm down, try to replenish his energy, the evil presence that followed him no longer tugged at his nerves, it was no longer with him, and he was fine and had survived. 

He hadn't lost, he hadn't received Sectumsempra and he wasn't dead either, he was completely fine. 

Draco took a breath of air and set about fixing the space around him, completely ruined, assessing the damage and determining what he could fix and how. 

He made the fragments of the event disappear, cleaned the stain and used a repair to repair the damage at his fingertips, undoing the evidence as best he could.

He took a few breaths and moved in the direction of the corridor entrance, looking twice to either side and focusing, trying to think.

At this point it was completely unsafe to look for the mirror, but he had to see it. And Quirrel's presence was gone. 

He walked, without agility, or caring about the sound of his bare feet. He just walked, attentive to every sound in his path, stepped into the library and once he continued down the hallway and turned left, the door that had once been padlocked was now simply bolted shut. 

Draco moved it, allowing himself entry and as soon as he poked his head in, the reflection of a light coming from somewhere manifested itself in Erised's mirror, which stood completely glorious in the middle of the room, as if it had never been moved. 

- “Draco?”

Draco withdrew his head from the door almost too abruptly, looking with alert eyes at Greg's figure beside him. 

He allowed himself to let out a snort. -“Fuck, Greg, stop doing that.” It was ironic that he could sense the presence of evil things, and the other Hogwarts Ghosts at times, near him, but was unable to prevent the presence of Greg, a random boy. 

The boy was still in his sleeping clothes, looking sleepy and breathing heavily, in his hand lay his own wand, with an active lumos glowing a little too brightly. 

-“What are you doing here?” he asked, but was immediately thrown off when the sound of someone moaning softly began to drift too close to where they both stood. 

-“Who's there!”

Draco cursed under his breath, Filch, whose presence had never ever been announced when it was needed, appeared most inopportunely in an almost absurd manner. If Pevees appeared out of nowhere and said that this series of unfortunate events was his fault, Draco would accept it. 

Greg's eyes widened in terror just the same, Draco pushed them both into the room and closed the door as quietly and quickly as he could at the same time. Stepping away immediately and waiting for Filch's nonsensical complaints and babbling to fall off the radar. 

Once the sound of the night's ambience ruled again, Draco turned in Greg's direction to tell him to leave, but the boy was completely fixed. 

Greg found himself staring at the mirror, looking surprised and dazzled. The lumos was still active. 

Draco approached slowly. - "Nox.”

Greg turned his head, looking in his direction and blinking in confusion.

-“What?”

-“The incantation to undo lumos is Nox.” Draco finished his sentence by leaning back against a pillar, resting at last. 

-“Oh-” Greg repaired the words. -“Nox,” he said, and the light that had been glowing from the tip of his wand disappeared from the room. 

-“Ah!” Greg turned around, looking completely thrilled. -“I did it the first time!” he said excitedly. Draco let out a small, almost silent laugh. 

It was definitely no big deal, but to Greg it was, so Draco supposed he would have to praise him for it anyway.

-"Yes, you did...” he said, sounding a little too subdued. - "What did you see?”

Greg stood still for a moment and then spoke. -“I saw my parents.” he said, sounding a little unsure of himself. -“And the others, Pansy, and Theo and Blaise... And you. We were all laughing and playing like before.”

-“Like before...” Draco allowed himself to repeat the last words somewhat wistfully. 

-“You look tired. You look like you've been rolling around in the field.” Greg wrinkled his nose. -“Draco, have you been sleeping outside on the floor or something?”

Draco didn't respond to that, he just grimaced a little in disgust at the idea, he didn't sleep on the floor (at least he never would again). The Room of requirements was very comfortable and made a very close replica of his bedroom. 

Greg seems to have misinterpreted his reaction. -“Listen, I know sometimes you don't like to say things, but come on, you have a bed in the room which you can perfectly well block with magic, you don't have to go sleep in the hallways or anything.”

Draco felt a little annoyed. Was he the one who didn't like saying things? Ha. 

-“Sorry, mom.” he said sarcastically, rolling his eres and sounding irritated. 

-“You don't have to be a jerk to me, you know.” Greg replied in the same irritating tone. 

- “Ah- really?” Draco spat, he knew if he kept this up he was going to turn this conversation into an argument, but he didn't care anyway, if this escalated, what did it matter? He wasn't the only one who liked to hide things anyway.

- “Because as far as I know, I'm not the only one who hides things.” He spat, sounding far too affected, more than he should. 

It was silly, if Greg was hiding things from him what did it matter? Why did it bother him? 

Greg stepped back, looking puzzled. 

-“What-Draco-what do you mean?”

Draco let out a frustrated growl and raised his arms dramatically. -“I just don't know what's wrong with you Greg!”

-“This whole school year, you've been the only person I've ever crossed paths with or had a minimally civil conversation with, because Hermione- decided to betray me! But even then you still had friends, or people to talk to, whatever- but you decided to walk away from them...”

Draco let his head fall back against the pillar again. -“Pansy, Goldstein, Vincent... And you decided to just-come back to me? And I try to understand you, but then I find you crying over “nothing”-he made a Quotation Mark sign with his fingers-and you still won't tell me anything.”

-“Draco-” Greg seemed to want to take the floor, looking completely surprised and somewhat embarrassed. 

-“I stab Theodore in the hand, Greg! Damn it, and you just- you just tried to make me feel better, with everything, with the mirror. But for some reason you don't trust on me enough to tell me anything!”

Both boys looked at each other for a while, long or short, Draco definitely couldn't determine time in any way when he was too far gone in himself to do so. 

-“Draco, I-it's not...” Greg bit his lip, seeming to debate with himself for a couple of seconds. 

-“It was just silly...” He said finally. -“I just- during the match to Potter, Snape started cursing his broom, and Granger- she bumped into me, and apologized and I.... I don't know, I just felt like I had to follow her.... She cast a spell on Snape that made him catch on fire”

Greg let out a laugh, partly funny and partly hollow. -“That was funny, we were clapping and celebrating and then... I don't know, just Weasley showed up and I didn't feel comfortable and left.”

Draco rearranged himself in his space. Completely interested now. 

-“I just don't know... It's not my thing, I don't know why I did it, it's not what I do...” Greg dropped to the floor as well, sitting up and crossing his legs. 

-“I just, I don't understand why it affects you so much, it's silly, and I didn't understand why it bothers you, I just don't understand you- you changed overnight.”

-“You did too.” Draco interrupted. - "Believe it or not, so did I.”

Greg fell silent, Draco continued. -“It's not stupid or silly Greg-just, you were happy, and that happiness disappeared, it's not fair.”

-“And I'm not sleeping on the floor.” Greg let out a laugh at that, the mood changed again, to something childish and innocent. 

-“I don't see any other reason why you're like that-is that a bandage?”

Draco thought for a second, but then nodded to himself and pulled himself together to look at Greg closely. -“It wasn't Snape.” He said. 

-“Eh?”

-“The broom, it wasn't Snape. It was Quirrel.” 

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡. 

Chapter Text

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 15 ◇2𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢.◇

𝔓𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 

<𝔊𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔠𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢>

「♢」

Uncomfortable, dissociated and numb.

Those were the only three words that could describe the way he had been feeling for the past few months. Even a part of Harry could perhaps say that he was partly worse than the Dursleys, though not in the most literal sense of the word. 

His life had taken a 360 degree turn or more, away from all that living with his family entailed; a real relief. Not having to put up with Vernon's shouting, or Aunt Petunia's frying pan bashing, or Dudley's incessant annoying chatter, things like that had shown Harry a unique and fantastic feeling. 

Of course, everything was fantastic now, of that he was aware. The magic, the friends, the fun. All things that Harry had always dreamed of having and that only now at Hogwarts could he see, a fantastic entrance to a whole new world that he had unconsciously and at the same time consciously manifested during his 11 years of life. 

But on the other hand, as in every fairy tale, there was a negative side.

The fame he never asked for, the constant stares and people all over him. And with friendship came fights, Ron and Hermione always arguing made him uncomfortably reminiscent of Petunia and Vernon. Sometimes more than Harry would like. 

With classes came the incessant attempts to stay disconnected from the boredom, it made him feel a little ungrateful to the world, it had given him a new life and he was just despising it. It wasn't like he didn't like it, and he wouldn't change anything beyond disliking it. Christmas with Ron, spending the afternoon playing chess even if he didn't understand it, the twins' jokes, the laughter they sometimes shared, all things he loved to have.

But the arguments, the awkwardness, the detachment, the conflict and mistrust, even at times when Ron, Hermione and he were completely just the three of them being friendly, Harry couldn't help but feel that at any moment it would all blow up. Eventually everyone would be all over him asking him questions he didn't want to answer or know. 

Things like that made Harry question if this was the way he wanted to spend his one happy moment. Maybe talking would have solved everything, but that was impossible. Because at the core he knew that the center of the problem was Drac-Malfoy- (of course, he wasn't allowed to call him by him name). 

It was unfair in a sense, he was pushing away what he had, He felt unable to understand, Why did he have to be like this? Couldn't he just be happy with them too? Deep down Harry knew that Ron hadn't done any of that with any real intention of being a bully as Hermione painted him. 

But deep down, what made him feel the same way he did every night, what woke him up in his sleep and left him suspended in a hazy cloud of guilt and numbness, was that it was true after all.

-“I... I don't know,” the blonde boy admitted. “But regardless of that, I think the wand you'll get would be amazing.”

-“You think?” He asked incredulously, completely unable to understand why this strange thread was being nice to him. 

The boy nodded, shortly after Mrs. Malkin returned, bringing his robes in the process. 

Harry stepped off the small platform looking at the blonde boy sadly, and before he could leave the tent, so, that's how it feel when others be kind to him? He mean, they had been nice to him before, but never anyone his age, no one was like that to him. -“Wait!” shouted blonde, getting down as well and running towards him. 

The blonde boy pointed his long and majestic wand at the broken and faded glasses he was wearing -“Oculus repaired” Silver strands sprouted from the tip of his wand, quickly repairing the cracks and putting the tiny screws back in, by the time he was done, the glasses looked brand new. 

Harry looked on in amazement and disbelief, this was magic, it was fantastic, the level of elegance and purity the blonde boy had shown him in one act. He turned the glasses over, looking for the old imperfect damage, short seconds later he looked at it again. 

He had repaired his glasses, he had been kind to him.

-“They're as good as new!” He said, with a smile of utter gratitude. 

Ron had hurt them, Harry had nothing to do with it, but he allowed it, it wasn't as if he could stop it in part, but maybe if he had been more concrete none of that situation would have happened. 

And maybe Hermione and Ron wouldn't fight all the time, maybe he and Draco could be friends. 

But Harry was also to blame, because he also got carried away, Ron had been his first friend, and it was unpleasant for him to have to make him see reason, because he didn't want to fight with him, he didn't want him to walk away. Deep down he also knew that it bothered Ron too, he didn't want to feel like a bully. 

Neither did Harry, but it was a little uncomfortable to have Hermione around after the Troll event, the way Draco reacted, it had made him see how bad they were. And it made him feel so unseemly, having Greg and Draco in the same dormitory as them. He wanted to apologize, and indeed he did. But Greg just looked at him the same way his family did all the time, and that just made him feel more like a monster. 

That look of disgust and disdain they gave him all the time, everyone before. To a scrawny, gangly kid who wore rags and kept unkempt, in part Harry understood, Greg was angry at he, not only because of what had happened but because he was too much of a coward to apologize to someone who truly deserved an apology. But Harry couldn't stand for some reason that Draco was going to do the same. 

Draco had been so kind and good to him, and Harry repaid him in a bad way, made him feel like a Dursley too. He couldn't stand knowing that Draco would only see him as the same horrible thing, so he decided just not to do it. 

It was stupid, Vernon and Petunia were always annoying each other and never apologized for it, and then it was just all normal and friendly between them, Harry was just an idiot to think everything would be the same with everyone else. 

He knew how much it bothered Ron to feel that way, but he wasn't able to be a friend to him and let him vent to he. He knew how bad Hermione felt for them, for the situation, for fighting with Ron, and Ron likewise, but he was unable to talk to both of them. 

He knew, he knew how uncomfortable, numb and sad Greg and Draco felt, he didn't know what they were going through but by the way they were behaving Harry knew how bad they were too, as he always had been. And it wasn't fair, he didn't want anyone to feel like that, like a wounded monster hiding inside a closet, it wasn't fair that they had to do it too. But he was a coward, unable to say or do anything about it. 

-“Why did you do that!” hissed Draco hatefully, all three boys raised their heads and turned to look at Draco. -“You could have told the truth.”

Harry was terrified, the level of fury Draco had let out so suddenly in one second had made him feel like an ant, all the kindness, all the heroism had vanished and turned into something dark, full of anger, of hatred. 

 -“You could have told the truth, McGonagall would have understood you, you could have said that she was being bullied, that Weasley was an ungrateful idiot because Salazar knows he'd never get that damn spell right, you could have said that you wanted to be alone and that you were unlucky enough to find the damn Troll.”

And it was true, all of that was true, but Harry didn't want it to be, he didn't want him to feel that way. 

-“Draco...” Harry started, but something in Draco's eyes made him recoil, almost like Vernon's anger when he did something the man simply didn't approve of. But this was different. 

-“Don't call me Draco.” spat Draco. -“You, especially you, have no right to call me Draco.”

Especially him. 

-“I thought we could be friends.”

They could, they really could, Harry wanted to. 

-“But then your stupid Weasley friend, not knowing me, started talking about me, saying all these things about me, and you, not knowing me, decided to believe them all, didn't you? All these stupid packs of Gryffindors, Believing every stupid thing a bloody bastard says, can I remind you that you are the reason Hermione was in that bathroom? What would have happened if I hadn't come along, huh?”

He was embarrassed now, that was true, he was- he knew it was wrong, it was wrong, but Hermione had taken the blame for them, she wanted to protect him, right? Because another reason she would. 

-“Draco...” Hermione tried, tried at that moment and then, but at that moment Draco just said, -“I thought you were smarter.” And Harry supposed that had hurt her more. 

He had put them all in that situation, he had hurt them all, was that how they felt? He knew that feeling and he didn't wish it on anyone, but it seemed he was destined to taint everyone with his mess. 

And that made him angry, why couldn't Draco just shut up and be happy with them too? They could have-maybe at Christmas, they could have been laughing too, playing chess and sharing sweets and chocolates, they could have solved the Nicholas flamel problem from the beginning if Draco had been with them, or if Hermione and Ron didn't spend most of their time arguing. 

Things like this, their fault. They haunted him in his dreams and left him breathless, the arguments, the guilt, the rejection, all things he'd always lived with, but for some reason now they hurt him. 

A thread unraveled, a plate broken, a shirt stained, a complaint from Dudley or a frustration from Vernon, everything, Harry had been blamed for everything. 

He had felt guilty, devastated, isolated, incapable, everything.... 

But this was different, why? Why couldn't Draco and Greg just be nice to them and forget everything that happened, why did Hermione and Ron have to fight all the time, Harry knew he was asking too much but he'd had that all his life, why did he have to carry that even at the only time he could be happy? 

◇  2𝔫𝔡 ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡 

Chapter Text

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 16 

ℑ𝔫𝔞𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 

「♤」

The misty Christmas morning came, and Draco just wanted it to drift away again. 

Deep in his bed, the Red light intensified with the rising of the Sun, making him curse under his breath as the mist of sleep slowly peeled away from his head and hovered over him like a cloud.

But it was a gray cloud, completely filled with lightning aimed to unleash a thunderstorm. His head ached, he'd slept badly, he'd been left hungry and beyond that the bandage he'd put on his ankle had simply turned into a stinging sting on his leg from sweat. 

Needless to say, he was grumpy, and it was obvious Greg would be too, and Draco wouldn't have surprised him in the least. Both boys had stood in the middle of the darkness, ignoring the prominent presence of Erised's mirror as Draco explained to him why Quirrel was the real threat in all of this. 

-“You fought him?” Greg asked incredulously. Completely flabbergasted.

Draco couldn't help but strut. -“Yes, obviously.” he replied with a certain air of grandeur that he purposely let slip. -“But the bastard deflected the spells and left.”

He spent the rest of the time explaining why it was important to keep an eye on Quirrel, and Draco didn't know what time it was, but by the time they both returned to the dormitory the dark color of the night had turned to an early morning sky blue. 

And the only thought he'd had from that moment until he'd managed to get some sleep was that he'd be away from home at Christmas, it had made him question whether he'd actually get a present, or if Greg would even get one. 

Draco just wished he hadn't woken up. He mean, it wasn't like he would remember his dream, or if he actually dreamed anything, but then he would have wished he had stayed in that state, where his brain was conscious but his consciousness and body were asleep, where the darkness of his eyelids kept him from reality.

That point where you were when you were sleeping and you didn't dream, but you didn't wake up either, even that would have been better. 

As the gray cloud faded low, the shrill voice of an overly excited child echoed throughout the damned bedroom making him curse with all his might the existence of childish joy. 

-“¡Merry Christmas!” the Weasley boy's middle voice with ample joy. 

-“To you too!” Potter replied with equal enthusiasm.

Something about the children's cheerful voices made Draco's stomach contract, he would have blamed it on hunger but this was something completely visceral. Something like envy. 

-“Look at this! They sent me presents!” the Potter's shrill voice echoed again. 

-“¡What did you expect, turnips?” then the sound of various boxes and things being handled assiduously began to dominate the whole place. 

Unbelievable, the pair of cavemen he had for roommates were incapable of respecting other people's sleep, Draco made a mental note to subsequently never ever forget to put spells to isolate the sound. 

From the translucency of the curtains, Draco could glimpse the figure of Potter unwrapping something, then he blew what Draco imagined to be a branch and a sound like the cry of a bird made his head throb. 

-“Shit-” he sat up abruptly and unfastened his curtains to almost rip them from their fastenings when he tried to open them, let out a violent snort that made it clear to all present the obvious disrespect that was being perpetuated. 

Greg had also joined in, sleepy-eyed and scowling muttering curses and profanities that only in a low voice would he allow himself to say. Pushing Weasley from where he stood to head for the bathroom. 

Draco did exactly the same, inadvertently kicking the large (too large in fact) boxes at the foot of his own bed, a part of him feeling proud in an arrogant way as he realized that despite Potter and Weasley's gifts being numerous, they were not able to overshadow his own despite being only two perfectly adorned boxes. 

Ignoring the -“I'm sorry” that both boys let out under their breath, one with a growl included and the other with a rather fearful tone of voice, he decided to go take a bath and get something to eat, before hunger consumed the last of his Christmas cheer. 

When he allowed himself to take a relaxing bath and eat, Draco came back into the room, patiently wanting to open his gifts. In the room alone was Greg now, looking curiously and assessing the Box inside his box. 

Both boys wore sweaters and fine cloth pants, even if Greg and he before had never had such an open closeness, in the past Draco could agree that Greg had the same sense of comfort as he did, regarding fancy clothes as well, that was something his whole gang had had to learn since their childhood, trivial things that also meant a lot. 

Draco could have guessed what it was, but that would only be a foolish and failed attempt to ruin Greg's surprise, now things had changed. Greg finally bowed out of the conflict with himself and decided to let curiosity win. 

He began to awkwardly unwrap the paper wrapping the gift box, inside was a full package of candy, a silk sweater that looked suitably expensive and a letter that said Merry Christmas. 

-“Well,”- Draco thought. -“The last time in the past the presents had been what any child would have wanted. Now they were... Dry”-

Greg let out a small snort of disappointment and looked away, sounding distressed. 

-“Not what you expected eh?” He said, trying to sound as comforting as possible. 

-“What did you get?” Greg changed the subject, pointing in the direction of the boxes whose decorations overshadowed anything else in the room. 

Draco set about opening his own gifts, unwrapping his own gifts with prodigious hands. He had expected it, jewelry, it was obvious that his mother intended to bribe him with jewelry. 

It wasn't as if Draco wasn't in awe of them, the beauty of thousands of years of formation culminating in splendid Stones were surely one of the many mineral wonders the world had to offer. But now, when he could perfectly Transfigure them and had a complete collection of them.... 

It was disappointing. 

Greg let out a shameless whistle, looking at the jeweled necklace glinting arrogantly at the bottom of the box.  

There was also a beautiful bracelet, the charm of which was a silver dragon whose wings guarded a perfectly cut diamond, the glorious Antipodean Opaleye looked at it, coaxing in a way Draco already knew all too well. 

He could make out his parents' magic in both contraptions, surely enchanted with protections, though Draco was sure that with Draconifors spell he would succeed in bringing the silver specimen to life and leave the precious stone it carried unprotected. 

Draco formed a hypocritical grin-“Well, he at least contributed something”-what a cheek. 

There was also a letter that Draco wasn't going to read, whatever it was he didn't want to know. 

-“You don't like them?” Greg questioned, sounding partly disgusted with his attitude, but Draco couldn't answer that, instead he decided to change the subject to something that would definitely catch the other boy's attention. 

-“It does, though it wasn't what I expected anyway,” he shrugged his shoulders and settled back toward the bedrail. 

- "Let's talk about Nicholas flamel.”

Greg plopped down on his own bed, looking at Draco completely intrigued now, wondering who this Nicholas flamel was.  

「♢」

Harry had never had a Christmas dinner like that in his life, in fact he had never had one.

Occasionally the Dursleys would give him the next day's leftovers while he went to sleep in the cupboard or spent the night watching the clouds roll past the window, or listening to his aunt and Vernon's laughter, longing sometimes to be part of those domestic moments. 

However, the mountain of turkeys and the food had left him terribly full, seeing the teachers being friendly with each other and the Weasley family and Ron sharing the feast with him had created a harmonious atmosphere that made the butterflies in his stomach flutter with happiness. 

Harry was sure that that had been the best Christmas of his life, leaving aside the very accommodating and charitable gift from his family, Mrs. Weasley's sweater had been very kind of her, if a little itchy, but without a doubt the invisibility cloak was the best part of all. 

Of course, he still wasn't sure who had sent it and that intrigued him a little, his neighbor had once told him when she had seen him hanging around outside her property, not to accept gifts or things from strangers especially when they looked suspicious. 

But the cloak didn't look suspicious, especially since it came from his father, but Harry thought, amidst the night mist that perhaps it would be the tool that would lead him to find Nicholas flamel. 

Which was true, that is, he had Hogwarts and open completely to him, he could access with the cloak the so famous forbidden section of the library, he was almost sure that Nicholas flamel's name would be there. 

Ron groaned in his sleep, Harry wondered for a moment if waking him up would be a good idea, but concluded that he should do it alone, at least he could use his father's cloak on his own and get an answer to one of the questions that most kept Hermione and Ron and him in constant intrigue. Maybe then he wouldn't have to listen to Ron and Hermione argue about it. 

He got up in the night mist and went down the stairs of Caracol, putting on his cloak and hiding with it. Once he was in the Common Room, he made his way to the exit where the fat lady guarded the only path to the exit. 

But he stopped dead in his tracks when he caught a glimpse of someone else's figure there, platinum blonde locks glowing in the blue of the night's darkness. Giving away the figure in the moonlight. 

Draco- 

Harry stopped suddenly, the boy was standing in the doorway, seeming to debate with himself, looking thoughtful, he allowed himself to admire Draco's Pristine figure. 

The boy was wearing a dark green silk sweater, cloth pants that looked quite comfortable and expensive, and from his right arm shone a glow of many colors, he was wearing an incredibly beautiful bracelet with what Harry could recognize was a dragon, holding something shiny. 

The last interaction he'd had with the boy had been.... Well, not so good, the boy had violently revealed the curtains giving him a murderous look that had made him shudder, he had disturbed Uncle Vernon's dreams before and it wasn't exactly pleasant, but Draco on the other hand.... 

Harry would have liked the Christmas atmosphere to have given him a cheer that would have allowed him to approach him and wish him a Merry Christmas as well, but instead both he and Ron ended up being scolded by Greg and Draco. 

Draco shifted, muttering things to himself, Harry moved closer to hear them better. 

-“Maybe... Greg deserves to know too, but I can't tell him anything if he didn't manage to find something to explain Nicholas first.”

Nicholas-

Harry tensed, feeling overwhelmed. Were they also investigating Nicholas flamel? That had given him a certain feeling of encouragement, maybe asking him about it wouldn't end as badly as he had thought. Something that would be obvious, Hermione was always right about everything. 

But if they were both investigating too, why wasn't Greg with him? Maybe Draco had simply slipped away on his own just as he had, but what did she mean Greg also deserved to know... about what? 

The blond boy moved, in the direction of the exit and Harry stood watching, the boy pushed the lady's portrait. 

Draco practically leapt, falling with an agility and skill that Harry would never in his life ever have managed to replicate, and then shot through the darkness. 

It was creepy. 

Although it was also impressive. 

Harry hurried to keep up with her, stumbling ungracefully in the dark and alerting the fat lady. 

-“Eh?” she squeaked. - “Who's there?”

But no one answered. 

-“It's happening again...” she said, sounding exasperated.

Harry hurried so as not to lose Draco's figure in the darkness, the boy had managed to make good progress in seconds, making Harry question his physical condition. 

He hadn't seen the boy eat very often, it fed the thought that Draco was some sort of vampire, who the heck could move like that. 

Indeed, Draco also seemed to be looking for the same thing he was, Harry had to curse under his breath, while it had been the best decision to put the lamp aside, his eyes weren't exactly the best, least of all for seeing in the dark. 

He followed the other boy into the Library, feeling the thin, slippery cloth covering his body and threatening to fall off with every hurried step he took.

When he finally arrived, Harry followed Draco, or at least what he could make out was his figure, moving like a snake among the shelves. He cursed under his breath that the other boy was so slippery, almost as if he had been born with the gift. 

Suddenly, Draco stopped, and so did Harry at least eight paces away from him. There they were, in the forbidden section, a grim, dark collection of books that gave him goose bumps. Although the dark bookshelf facade didn't surprise him, the name said it all, it was the forbidden section for a reason. 

-“Come on, where are you...” Draco cursed under his breath, glaring alertly at the blond boy as he searched for a particular book. Then the boy grabbed what looked like a large, heavy volume (it definitely was, Harry could glare at Draco's muscles tensing as he tried to grab it) though the other boy seemed to deal with it with perfect ease. 

Maybe Harry did have a bad physical condition. 

The book was fat and large, black and silver, and before Draco could seem to open it, he turned in Harry's direction. 

-“You know I can feel you?”

Harry startled-in fact, he did. He staggered backwards as he stepped on the cloak in the process, stumbling awkwardly as he let out an unmanly shriek and crashed into a bookshelf. 

-“Shit-” Draco cursed what Harry wanted to dissociate as bad words, the books fell hard, causes excessively loud noises. 

-“Who's there?!” Filch's voice echoed from somewhere in the place, Draco cursed again and put the book back in its place quickly, Harry took a few seconds blinking to realize that he had now grabbed it, lifting it unkindly off the floor by the wrist, dragging the invisibility cloak with him and tripping over his steps as he led them to God only knew where.

After running in the direction of one of the corridors, Draco led them to the end and turned left, a door manifested in front of them both and Draco opened it abruptly, practically throwing him inside and making him fall to the cold floor, then closed the door behind he and stood with his back to it, panting heavily. 

-“What's wrong with you? brainless!” the blond boy stood in front of him, looking imposing and practically furious. 

Harry shrank further into himself, waiting to be swallowed up by the earth. It certainly hadn't been his intention to ruin whatever Draco had been doing, in fact he hadn't wanted to upset him in general. 

Something in the atmosphere changed, but suddenly it became somber and cold. Dark and utterly malevolent, the icy bite now more present on his skin. Harry had confronted others before, sometimes especially Dudley's friends when they exhausted his patience. 

But something about Draco, something utterly dark and furious, was different....

The boy threw his arms up in fury, letting out a snort of utter exasperation and Harry closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the familiar, imminent attack. 

He had never really wanted to upset him.

But nothing arrived. 

Seeing that nothing had happened, Harry opened his eyes, realizing that he was breathing heavily, lying on his now disheveled cloak. Draco was standing in front of him now looking in another direction, holding his hands to his face and cursing under his breath. 

-“I'm sorry, Drac-," he found himself saying, but Draco only gave him a murderous look that shut him up immediately. 

Right, of course. 

- “He-Malfoy- I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-”

-“Yeah, you obviously didn't mean to, as usual, did you?” Draco interrupted now glaring furiously in no particular direction. -“But you always end up doing it over and over again.”

Harry didn't know what he was referring to, but it certainly had to be something bad, he had always been good at irritating people without doing anything anyway. 

He let the other boy move around the room, trying to calm himself down, and he set about looking and detailing the place they were in. 

The place they were in looked like a disused classroom, with dust and grime hovering even in the blue light of the night, and in front of it he could make out the prominent figure of something-.

A magic mirror. 

It was a very detailed mirror, long until it almost touched the ceiling, with a finely crafted golden frame, resting on claw-like supports, it had an inscription engraved on the top that read <Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi>

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, staring at his own reflection and then found himself surrounded by many people, faces he didn't recognize or only half-recognized. 

He looked in all directions, searching for the mysterious figures but found no one but Draco in the room, still wandering around the place and whispering things to himself. 

He turned his attention back to the mirror, slowly stood up and laid his cloak on the floor, this time two new figures began to form next to him, like a mist taking shape and becoming something-.

A woman, just behind his reflection, smiled at him and waved her hand. Harry lifted a hand and felt the air passing by. If she was really there, he should be able to touch her, their reflections were so close... But he only felt air; she, as well as all the others existed only in the mirror.

She was a very beautiful woman. She had dark red hair.

-“Her eyes are like mine...”- thought Harry, moving a little closer to the mirror. Bright green, exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying, smiling and crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man next to her draped his arm around her shoulders. He wore glasses and his hair was very messy. And it stood stiffly on the back of his neck, just like Harry's.

Harry was so close to the mirror that his nose was almost touching his reflection.

-“Mom... Dad?”he whispered 

Then they looked at him, smiling. And, slowly, Harry took in the faces of the other people, and saw another pair of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a small man who seemed to have the same knobbly knees as Harry. He was looking at his family for the first time in his life.

-“Took you long enough to find it, eh?” the voice of Draco startled him immediately, Harry looked with wide eyes at the blond boy.

-“What is this?” he asked, the other boy gave him a questioning look, seeming to debate something internally, but he spoke anyway.

-“It's Erised's mirror, it's a magical artifact that gives you your heart's deepest desire.”

Then the blond pointed in the direction of the oddly-worded engraving. -“I show not your face but your heart's Desire.”

-“Oh-” Harry had a feeling of realization. -“A play on words...”

Both boys stood in the darkness completely still now, Harry quickly felt the awkward silence bite the back of his neck. 

-“And uh...” Harry gulped. - "What did you see...”

Draco formed a crooked smile. - "Why would I tell you?" the blond boy replied with an arrogance that Harry became familiar to Dudley, it made him wrinkle his nose. 

-“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I-”

-“You really didn't mean to?”

The blond boy simply stood in front of him now, holding him by his pajamas tightly almost lifting him off the ground. 

Harry just didn't understand-what it was that he was doing that was driving the other boy crazy, he just didn't understand. 

-“Because it seems to me that following me in the middle of the night is certainly an attempt to intrude,” Draco pointed to the mass of fabric of what Harry thought was his cloak. -“Listen to me Potter.” He hissed. 

-“Your attempted invasion of privacy won't work on me, ever again-” Something, something in Draco's expressions made Harry wonder what it was- because he seemed to hate him as if he'd hated him all his life. Was it because of the troll? Or because of the morning? 

What had he done so wrong to make the boy hate him like that. 

-“I'm sorry Draco I didn't-”

Harry swallowed, trying to muster coherent words, but he could only manage to get out babbles. He was completely incapable of even formulating a word. 

-“I don't know what I did to you, ok! I- I don't know, I'm sorry I didn't think this- it was a gift and I wanted to use it to research Nicholas flamel and I... I thought- I thought I would find something in the library so I used it to sneak out and then I saw you at the entrance to the Common Room and I heard you talking about Nicholas-”

Harry was breathing heavily now, he had never behaved like this before with anyone other than his family, but Draco had something that he just didn't know what it was. 

-“I didn't mean to- I didn't mean to upset you I- I don't know what happened I'm just sorry!”

Before he knew it, he was on the floor. 

And Draco laughed, laughed with something broken and dark that sent a cervical shiver down his spine. 

-“You really don't know what you did?” He said, between laughs, sounding completely amused but Harry knew there was no amusement or fun anywhere. 

-“Does it seem little to you to have us ostracized as outcasts from our own house? Throwing curses at us all the time with your excuses of 'pranks' and harassing Greg and me? Huh?”

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, trying to process Draco's perfectly phrased words with fury. 

Was this how they had been feeling all this time? Sure, he knew it, and Draco was right to probably blame him for it, but he hadn't wanted any of it. 

-“I don't-”

-“No.” the blond interrupted again, this time sounding more forceful than ever. -“I'll tell you something, you're not as far above this as you think - I don't care if you didn't mean to, but you allowed it, you and your stupid best friend did.” 

-“Ron didn't mean to-we didn't-”

-“right, right, so purposely pushing everyone else away and saying things about us wasn't your intention? And it wasn't yours to allow it either? Because I remind you that it was because of you that he was believed.”

Ron hadn't really meant to hurt anyone, yes, he'd been an idiot and Harry knew it, but he hadn't meant to make them feel that way really. It was the difference between wanting to upset them and wanting to hurt them and he knew it too because he hadn't wanted any of that either. 

-“I don't care if he didn't mean to - but he did and if you think it's rude of me to pick on me, then you're going to have to question whether you're really the famous hero everyone says you are. Guess what, I have every right to be angry.”

-“I didn't want to be a hero!” Harry broke through the wall of anger Draco had put between them. -“I never wanted any of this! It was never my intention to be a hero or-or whatever!”

He was absolutely certain that in any other situation he would be crying, and if he was, he didn't care, Harry simply wanted it to stop. 

-“I wanted- I wanted it to be resolved it! It was never- I wanted us to be friends too! I didn't know all this would put them in that situation I-”

Draco looked at him with something, expectantly and articulately Imperturbable, as if he had been through this situation before. 

There was nowhere to go but the side that the blond had created for both of them, it was obvious that this discussion was above him, as always. 

-"You lie.” The blond said, empty and devoid of any emotion. He simply said it. 

Harry felt the notes of anger stand out now, who was he to determine that? 

-“I'm not lying!” he hissed angrily. -“It's no fun for me when people treat other people as if... As if they were nothing! All my life I've had to feel it and I would never wish the same on anyone... I don't...” he became entangled with his own words and shut down. 

Whatever he was going to say died when he realized he had nothing thought to say. 

-“What are you talking about?”

- “My family's not nice to me, okay? I just...” Harry debated the idea of telling something personal to someone he definitely didn't get along with, he'd probably make fun of him after that like all of Dudley's friends did, but he didn't care.

Draco just had something, something Harry didn't know what it was, but for some reason he just wanted him to believe him. 

-“I'm not like them-they just.... All the people here are so nice to me and give me things I know I don't deserve, I didn't do anything, I never wanted the fame, or the things they say I did, I don't even know why people find this silly scar amazing.” something dismissive formed in the deepest notes of his voice. 

- "I know how awful it feels to have people push you away and make you feel bad, I just... I didn't do anything, I didn't know that just by keeping quiet this would turn... Well, this.” 

-“And I'm sorry- I... Everyone always annoys everyone and it just works out and- and already! I thought this-”

Harry was truly sorry, he was sorry for all of this, he never wanted any of this, all he wanted was for everything to calm down. 

Draco looked at him with pity, or anger, or whatever it was that was on his face he couldn't determine. 

-“Shut up...” the blond spoke, whatever Harry had wanted to say died in his throat. - “Just shut up and go, I have things to do.”

Draco picked up the cloak from the floor and handed it to him, holding out his hand and then when Harry took it the other boy pointed in the direction of the exit and bracelet glowed in the dark in the process.

There were many, many things Harry had wanted to say about it, but he simply did as he was told and left, considering the idea of seeing his parents in the mirror another night. 

But before Harry could get far enough away, he heard Draco's voice echo in the back of his head, on his radar. 

-“Besides... I can't tell you my wish, I don't understand it anyway.” 

「♤」

The darkness of the night was comforting, and Draco chose to stand and admire her outside the range of the mirror, determined never to see his reflection in it again. 

None of this should have happened. 

Why did Potter always make things so difficult? He was supposed to discover the mirror for himself, and Draco didn't think-. 

Taking him here was the only way, of course, but he wasn't supposed to tell him about the mirror, now he was more than sure that whatever he had done now would affect the future more than it already was. 

But it was stupid of him, hadn't he been affected enough? Worrying about it made no sense, but he couldn't help it either. 

Of course Potter couldn't - like the stupid child he was, always sticking his nose where it didn't belong. 

But why did it affect him anyway? It was obvious even to him that he was a child from a family of bad vices, but even in the past it never seemed to affect him, now out of nowhere it did? It was stupid. 

It was utter stupidity, because then that meant that Draco wasn't entirely right to be angry at Potter for being an idiot after all. 

But even he himself, or Greg, or Theo before, had been just like them, obviously- but it had all gone away in word annoyances that kept them on their toes. Now even Draco could no longer determine his own hatred of his sworn enemy. 

It was stupid. 

The boy couldn't even engage in an argument completely without getting stuck, he had an inability to speak, as if something was holding him back. 

It was just stupid. 

Even before, unlike him who enjoyed a natural viper tongue, Potter always had to fumble with his words, not only to hurt, but also to express himself, was that why? 

Even if it was just stupidity, what was he supposed to do with it? 

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡

Chapter Text

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 17

𝔗𝔯𝔲𝔠𝔢

「♤」

Normalcy was never normal for him. 

Once the vacations were over, Draco told himself that maybe being dead wouldn't be such a bad idea, or well, not exactly dead. 

When you sleep you are supposed to enter a space where your consciousness is not physically active and your body rests, the only thing that lets you know you were asleep is that you wake up. 

But to sleep forever and not wake up, to stay there, in that space where the fine line between being alive but inanimate and dead hovers, was bliss. 

But that was something Draco couldn't do, and if there was any kind of sleeping beauty-style curse, he certainly didn't master it and he didn't know it either. Part of him wished fairy tales were real and true, of course, then he could curse a needle, prick himself with it, and sleep forever. 

Eternal calm- the magic would keep him physically alive and his consciousness would remain dancing in that state for eternity. If he wasn't physically alive he couldn't physically die anyway, and if he did, then he could still find tranquility in another life. 

But the problem was that that had already happened and what he was living was not exactly tranquility. The vacation ended as soon as it began and while Draco wasn't complaining, he wasn't relieved either. 

He was definitely done with the mirror, he knew vaguely that Potter kept going until something changed his mind and he finally finished. Anyway Draco felt that was what had happened in the past of his previous timeline, so he had nothing to worry about now. 

At least nothing more than usual, the change to the timeline as far as his involvement had been.... Constant. 

Of course, with Theodore filling his old shoes he didn't have to worry about anything, it seemed as if the boy was mechanically programmed to be him, he even bewitched Neville the same way he had before. 

It wasn't as if Draco could slow him down, it wasn't his competition, Theodore didn't even notice and that was the really disturbing thing, as if before Christmas Draco simply hadn't stabbed him in the arm. 

That made he wonder if indeed Snape was capable of using such delicate and dangerous tactics on weak minds like a child's, of course if Snape could he definitely could, Draco knew perfectly well that the man was a prodigy in every sense of the word. 

But would he really be able to do an Obliviate on a child, and on one of his own students, he really was?

One of the many things that made him completely question everything. 

Things that gnawed at his head no matter how stupid, ephemeral or insignificant they were, they just remained there. 

How else was he supposed to feel...reality was a piece of shit now, Hermione came back just to.... Apologize. But he didn't want her apology,  he mean, sure, Draco had enough regard for himself to know that the most basic thing he was owed was a miserable apology, to him and Greg, but out of nowhere it just became annoying. 

The fact that the girl wanted to fix things that may never have been broken in the first place, and a normal kid? A normal kid would probably let it go, but he wasn't a normal kid. 

How should he feel about everything? Now because the chosen one turned out to be an abused, wretched, ragged, malnourished and almost wimpy child, he should care?

Harry Potter always had been, but that never ever stopped him from anything, not even the damn Quidditch matches. 

And his past self probably wouldn't give a shit, but now it did and Draco just didn't understand why. Things like that, that you only see if you look in certain detail, and that even only those with bigger glasses could notice.

Things that only an adult would notice, or that only a child with a psycho-emotional intellectual capacity above his age would notice. But these were things that Draco had begun to notice earlier and that now in this pre-adolescent boy's body he could understand in more detail. 

Sometimes people were malnourished in dungeons, or even when they brought new Muggleborns or infant Wizards and witches into the dungeon, Draco could perfectly well notice over time the eventual degradation of their bodies, whether from mistreatment or neglect or because Death Eaters were the most disgusting and loathsome thing he had ever regretted his past life and the other to be. 

Things like that, that made Draco bring out his animalistic and protective side, break the rules and put his own life on the line just to give them a measly portion of food, even with the adults, and then excused himself with “just keeping them alive longer.”

 Things like that that had forced him to almost kill or be killed by Fenrir, who was unable to keep his hands off the most defenseless, or of Death Eaters whose positions in that little hierarchy that Voldemort create was very insignificant. 

But that never stopped Potter, perhaps because Draco never realized it, but now it was obvious that the boy was just another victim of the game of pathetic fate that Dumbledore and Voldemort had created for them. 

Sure, Draco couldn't blame them both for everything, but they pushed it, so maybe he could make it fall mostly on them. 

And he himself should feel... Relieved, that his empathic side is still alive. 

Because at the end of the day they were all kids, Greg too, which he understood and that's why he forced himself to breathe and calm down every time the kid managed to do something to get on his nerves and not call him idiot. 

Because Greg was his friend, yes, but he was also a kid who, no matter how "useless" he was in this game of opposing sides, was in the same space where he was. 

So a part of him could empathize, yes, but it didn't mean anything that he felt empathy for them anyway. 

Or maybe it did. He couldn't determine anything. 

It wasn't like either like Draco was on his side, he didn't give a shit about the matches and while he was a little annoyed that Potter won, he also didn't give a shit that Slytherin lost, now wasn't the time for silly rivalries. 

Of course it wasn't, he'd even brought Greg into it as well, more a bit against himself since Greg had been the one with the idea. He couldn't tell him anything relevant about Nicholas Flamel and the stone without first finding a source to confirm it, something to settle the other boy's doubts. 

He certainly wasn't in the mood for interrogation, Greg did deserve to know, after all, so they both got down to research. Draco thanked Merlin that Greg was meekly convinced that the real enemy was Quirrel. 

He clearly made it clear to Draco that there was a possibility that the person underneath the dark, spectral robes was another evil entity, and not the wimpy, harmless and stuttering DADA's professor. Something that deep down made Draco's blood boil, that someone would even consider that bastard as someone worthy of receiving any sort of human consideration.

But it wasn't like he could do much either, both Greg and he liked to keep all possibilities on the list, so he falsely took it. 

They were both steps ahead, sure, but that didn't change anything, for better or worse, and Draco reminded himself, every time he saw the man grin stupidly as if he hadn't tried to kill him, that it wasn't his job. Certainly that was the bloody golden trio's job, but trio of idiots had also fallen for the man's false mask. 

If Draco sat around waiting for The golden trio to save them all, he was lost, at least do damage control, and no, it wasn't his job. 

But the golden trio was composed of a boy who survived more by mere luck, an emotionally constipated and slow-witted idiot, and a girl incapable of valuing herself who did all the damn work. 

So, Yes, it was his job, the more so for the fact that he simply couldn't stand that this trio was going around just plain wrong and boasting that they were on the right track. 

This had nothing to do with Draco having empathy for them, but more to do with himself, because after all he had been in that position too. If he did this, then perhaps he could do himself justice. 

But it was hard to have to pretend he didn't know where the answers were and let the trio of idiots walk all over them just like that. So he decided it wasn't a bad idea to investigate Quirrel on his own. 

Of course it wasn't easy either, that had cost them more than anything else having to split their time studying for exams during the whole "Easter vacations" although well, it was more Greg's job than his, he already knew everything, he had the entrance to second year covered. 

But Greg... Well, the boy was certainly another matter, though Draco had faith in him anyway, he'd managed to get to seventh year with him anyway, so he'd manage now, but Greg was the one who could enjoy having the most talented of the first year wizards, and probably for life (now) teaching him. 

Sure- if it weren't for the fact that now Hermione and Greg seemed to have developed a friendship. 

Draco just grinned, wanting to crack his teeth, of course they would, Hermione was the only other witch in Gryffindor and probably in first year who could match Draco's intellect, so it was obvious that Greg was going to ask her for advice. 

And for the sake of the boy's emotional state, Draco acted like the adult he was supposed to be (or the big boy he was, anyway) and said nothing about it, just allowed Hermione to join the two of them in the sessions in the library, purposely letting the girl also take notes and listen to what he had to say. Even if it wasn't in a book, it was knowledge. 

At least Draco allowed himself to unleash all the knowledge both children would need to know to get through first year. He wasn't going to reveal things about the following years, he definitely wasn't in the mood for interrogation. 

So he simply allowed that unspoken agreement between the two of them to be made, it wasn't as if she and he had talked about... that, but she was the only civilized one to come out of the golden trio, so she was bearable. 

But that particular day would be different. 

Today would be the day Hagrid would appear in the library, and, eventually they would meet Quirrel, or Voldemort, Draco really didn't know what to call him anymore, in the forest.

Actually, that was also another point that proved Draco right, Quirrel was slowly turning into a shell, thinner, physically more tired and overall completely drained. Just as someone would be when someone else was sucking the magic and life out of them. 

But Quirrel just... Allowed it. 

A part of Draco reminded himself that indeed, Voldemort was in Quirrel's body, which meant he was definitely influencing him, and maybe Draco would say "He's manipulating him" but he wasn't. 

Yes, he was surely made of lies, maybe Quirrel thought that the relationship he had with Voldemort was symbiotic, both helping each other, but in reality it was not. 

That made it worse. He couldn't feel guilty about that, though. 

That day had been the only reason Draco had allowed Hermione to get any closer in the first place, sooner or later he would bring Potter and Weasley with him, when she would determine that it was obvious that pair was not going to survive first year, that precise moment where Draco would then have a reason to listen to the conversation between the Ranger and the group of boys. 

At least, if he got caught this time, he would have a reason to hide the embarrassment, though this was more of an excuse to lure Quirrel into his trap, it would prove to Potter that they were looking for the wrong person and then he could relax and wait for the group of children to deal with this on their own. 

He had found Greg before they got to the Library, he had a plan.

None of this was his job, but they had both worked relatively hard for what an 11 year old would do. All this time, searching for Quirrel and keeping an eye on him, only to end up the same. 

He was going to take care of this, and if he was going to do it he had to do it right. 

- “So...” Greg began, dropping into one of the Library seats. -“You want to hold Hermione, Potter, and Weasley until Hagrid shows up and talks about something that catches their attention?” 

-“Uh-huh.”

-“Then, We wait until things escalate and then you sneak off with them, and I go and report them to McGonagall so they can then punish us by sending us to the dark forest where Quirrel will probably be according to you...”

-“Indeed.” Draco leaned back on the other side in Greg's direction, arching an eyebrow when he realized the boy was hesitant. -“Something happened?”

Of course, Draco was counting on this being good enough, especially since it had been that way practically in the past. 

-“I don't know Draco...” Greg fiddled with his fingers nervously. -“Your plans always work, but the dark forest is the dark forest and this feels.... Dangerous...”

-“You said it yourself.” He replied with complete calm. -“My plans always work, we'll be fine.”

-“How do you know Hagrid will come here in the first place?” Greg asked. -“I mean, that giant spends most of his time in his hut, I don't think he... He's not likely to show up in these rooms” 

-“Hagrid brought a three-headed Cerberus into the castle in a room in Merlin knows where, it's obvious that he knows exactly where the rooms are and how to get into them. Besides, that trio has been all over that dog and Snape for a long time, and Hagrid is... How do I put it...”

-“A little too naive. Just trust me, he's been wanting to keep them away for a while and he's definitely been waiting to get them alone to talk about this, this is the perfect time.”

At that moment, a laugh echoed from the distance and then came closer in their direction, and Draco cursed to himself when he could recognize it. 

Of course. 

Theodore headed in the same space they were both in, stopping his footsteps in their tracks once he became aware of his and Greg's presence in the place. 

Of course Theodoro would be here, he himself had been here too when he heard that same conversation earlier, so Theodoro would take his place in that as well. 

But this time he wasn't going to let time play a trick on him. 

-“Take your books and get out, Nott.” He spat, sounding completely surprised that he had been the first to speak. Looking in any direction that wasn't at Theodore. 

The memory of past events still pricked his head. 

-“A bit aggressive Malfoy, is that any way for you to bark?” Theodore let out arrogantly as he leaned back against one of the shelves. 

Draco scratched his wrist, unable to ignore the sudden sting and the throbbing of his wand with him. He had to get Theodore out of here before he ruined everything. 

-“Theodore, get out.” Greg said, his tone a bit more like that of a bully, the same tone Draco recognized from him in the past. 

Theodore just laughed. 

-“You know, Longbottom was a great test subject for a curse I wanted to test, maybe you-”

Whatever Theodore was about to say died in his throat. His arrogant expression immediately changed to one of terror and he brought his hands to his throat, feeling his tongue stick almost painfully to the roof of his mouth. 

Draco hadn't even realized when- but he was standing, wand in hand pointed directly at Theo's throat, he had conjured Langlock and didn't even realize when. 

The boy looked at him, wincing in fury, groaned when he realized he couldn't speak at all, and immediately retreated as he appeared from the room. 

Draco calmed down, turning to Greg as Theodore disappeared from the room, looking just as surprised as he did. 

-“What was that?” He said. Draco shook his head and turned back to his seat. 

-“Nothing, just... I threw him out of here.” He said. 

Whatever Greg had said was interrupted by Hermione's voice behind them. 

-“Throw who out?”The girl asked, sounding genuinely curious. She glanced in the direction of Greg and then Draco, before giving them a -“Good afternoon” clearing her throat a little embarrassed. 

-“No one important, just Draco hexing Nott with one of those weird curses.” Greg said, sounding a little amused at the almost absurdly shocked expression. 

-“You shouldn't use curses.” She said, as if Draco had never cast a curse in his life. 

-“I don't-” He said, but then realized and hastened to say -“And who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn't finger?” 

-“Apparently someone more coherent than you.” Sure enough, here they were now. Hermione sat down next to Greg as she lifted her chin to give Draco a thick look.

-“You look like my Mother.” He said, realizing it wasn't an insult at all to anyone present. -“No, you actually look like McGonagall.” Greg let out a small chuckle, but Hermione took it as a compliment anyway. 

Draco roled his eyes. 

-“He-Malfoy-” Draco turned, to see the figure of Ron and Harry looking completely at a loss for what to do, standing behind him. 

-“Yeah... Hey, whatever...” Wesley said, in a pathetic attempt to sound friendly. 

-“Well-”Greg stood up from his spot. -“I think I should go now.” He gave Draco a questioning look, the blond just nodded as he let Greg pass him, ignoring Hermione's surprised look and leaving the place pushing Ron a little too hard. 

Ron turned to look at him, and then looked in Hermione's direction, lowering his head with Red cheeks once the girl gave him a disapproving look. 

-“Well, uh- maybe you should take a seat.”

Hermione adjusted her position to leave a large enough space for the other two children to fit in, and also to be far enough away from Draco. 

-“I want to make it clear-” He let out in a calm, low, but direct tone. - “That I'm only doing this because Hermione asked me to.”

-“Neither of us wanted to be here, you know.” Ron spoke, sounding more insecure than haughty. -“We're only here because Hermione bugged us all the time about it, I don't even know what's wrong with her, it's ten weeks before exams.”

-“Sure, like you're going to learn this in 10 weeks.” Draco dropped a forehead-high stack of books, followed by a hard sound that reminded him of Potter falling against the bookshelves the other night. 

The red-haired boy opened his mouth in surprise, looking almost wishing he was dead at the sight of the pile of big, fat, multi-colored books looming in front of him. 

It wasn't really all they had to study exactly, give or take 5 or 6 books if they were concise, but some extra information wouldn't hurt, Hermione had noticed, though she didn't say anything about it either. 

Harry, on the other hand, only seemed to look at Draco as if he had something to say, though perhaps he was too cowardly to speak. 

Though Draco could perfectly understand if Potter was afraid of him, though this didn't feel like fear, just inability to speak, so he wouldn't think about it, he'd be doing them both a favor. 

Neither of them spoke, they just set about writing and timidly looking through books while he and Hermione passed the time talking in words that were partly intellectually difficult for the rest present in the place to understand, and partly a bit of advanced topics about what they would see in the first year exams. 

Draco scratched his wrist from time to time, it was obvious to himself that he didn't want to be in this situation, to his defense, he was too uncomfortable and it was even more uncomfortable to have to pretend he wasn't, every now and then he stretched his head to look behind one of the shelves at Greg who was still inside the library, but at a different table. 

Following the plan, of course, that was what he himself needed to remind himself that he was doing this for the greater good- his greater good, ignoring that a part of him enjoyed having a conversation with someone almost on par with his abilities. 

Perhaps in the past he and Granger could have been good friends. And that part of him that enjoyed this conversation wanted that to have been so, and that it could be so now, too, but it wasn't as if all the hurt was easy to forget. 

A normal kid would have let it go, but he wasn't a normal kid. 

There came a certain point when the afternoon light became more present, birds could be seen flying outside the window and the sunlight was melting what was left of the ice that had captured Hogwarts at Christmas, it was the first almost sunny day in months. 

Another mental note from Draco, sunny days could be friendly if it wasn't too hot. 

-"I'll never be able to remember this!" burst out Weasley suddenly, throwing down the quill almost in a snatch and looking out the library window wistfully.

At that moment, the giant's presence became apparent at last. 

-Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?" Hagrid appeared with an awkward air, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin coat. Draco grimaced slightly at the man's almost dirty, unkempt figure. 

-“Just looking,” he said in an evasive voice, and both he and Potter noticed. -“And what are you two doing?-  You're not still looking for Nicolas Flamel-” the Man stopped in his tracks ( late, anyway) once he noticed Draco's presence, looking just as surprised that the blond was in the same space as them.

 -“Oh, we found it ages ago,” Weasley said. But he noticed that Hagrid was still looking in their direction, and immediately shut up as well. 

-“Calm down.” Draco said, trying to sound completely disconnected. -“It's not new to me and none of this matters to me. I also know about the Philosopher's Stone-”

-“Shhh!!!” Hagrid interrupted, the three boys and the man looked just as surprised as he did. Draco suppressed an amused smile.  the giant looked around to see if anyone could hear them, -“You can't go around shouting it out. What's wrong with you guys?” he turned in the direction of the three boys. 

-“We didn't-” Weasley tried to say in unison, but Draco interrupted him. 

Draco craned his neck again, looking at Greg who was stifling a laugh as well. Just as he was doing, it was obvious that the other boy was enjoying this as well. 

And Draco wanted to do it too. 

It was hilarious, this feeling that was building up in the air, the faces and the naive attitude around him, it was nice. 

But his more rational side knew better than to do it, and Draco tried to ignore the air of discomfort that stung his wrist, none of this was real, he was just doing it for the greater good. 

-“They didn't tell me anything Hagrid, in fact I haven't spoken to them since the year started, I found out on my own a long time ago.”

Hermione and Ron looked at each other in astonishment, Harry just continued to assess Draco with an expression on his face that he was unable to recognize and looking just as astonished.

-“Actually, there are a few things we want to ask you,” Harry said, clearing his throat, but he kept looking in his direction. - “About what else guards the Stone, besides Fluffy?”

-“SHHHH!” Hagrid hissed again.

-“Are you kidding?”

The four of them looked at Draco again. -“You called him Fluffy? The three-headed cerberus! You do realize that's practically a humiliation?”

Of course- the only one who could give stupid names to such imposing beings was Hagrid. 

-“Look, come and see me later, I can't promise I'll tell you anything, but don't go around talking, the students mustn't know anything. They're going to think I told you.”

- “See you later, then,” said Harry.

Hagrid slipped away and disappeared. Draco dismissed him with a small, self-pleased smile.

- “You knew all this time?” Weasley looked completely astonished, frowning. 

- “Ah, you didn't know?” Draco looked in the direction of the black-haired boy who was beginning to squirm in his space. 

- “Of course you knew-” Hermione said quietly to herself. Followed by an accusing look from Ron. 

-“Wow. How interesting. Did you really think I wouldn't know about this, Potter?” Draco put his hands on the table, looking into the boy's eyes. Potter flinched and shrank back into his seat wanting very badly to be swallowed up by the seat. 

-“Well, I don't...”

-“Potter, you're not the only one who sneaks out at night at Hogwarts-”

Hermione let out a scandalized solid. 

-“I detected you under your silly cloak-”

Ron blinked in surprise. Now completely absorbed in the situation. 

-“I found out about the mirror long before you did, obviously I would have known about the stone and the... Fluffy... Long before you.”

Draco shook his head at the ridiculous name. 

-“Well...” Hermione rose from her spot, looking almost too thrown with nothing to say -“Well-he-”

-“You can help us then!” 

-“No way!”

Weasley interrupted, shutting up at the -“Shut up Ron!” Which Potter and Hermione dedicated to him in unison. The boy looked at them completely unable to believe what was happening. 

Hermione put her hand to her nose. -“Look... He obviously knows more about us, we talked about this, he'll be helpful.”

Ron sat back in his seat, giving up without a word. 

-“So...” Hermione cleared her throat. -“What do you say Drac-Malfoy?”

She pulled herself together to extend her hand to him. 

-“Are you okay with a truce?”

Draco smiled to himself. 

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡

Chapter Text

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 18 

𝔇𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔉𝔩𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔱. 

「♤」

Draco had decided that their little truce had been taking too much of his limit. 

The plan was going just as framed, and Draco allowed himself to strut before this, it wasn't even the most elaborate thing he'd ever done and it was working perfectly, the perfectly woven threads were supporting every weight thrown at them. 

Quirrel seemed determined not to want to stay near the golden trio, or rather, to evade them once he saw that Draco had joined this little group or game they were playing.

The smiles stopped coming, part of the trio hoping that Draco didn't know yet that they thought Quirrel was the good guy (although he already knew) and part of Quirrel because Draco was a danger to him. 

Of course he was, after all they had both tried to kill each other and in effect, he had shown Quirrel that he definitely couldn't be fooled. He was not a normal child. 

And the situation with Hagrid became... Well, determinedly heavy, Draco allowed himself to think that his past self had ratted out the group for the dragon's sake, even though it hadn't.

But this was actually for the good of that poor animal, besides the fact that Hagrid thought Norbert was a name for a Dragon, he also considered it perfectly safe to have a dragon locked up in a wooden hut. 

And while the truce wasn't exactly about being a part of it, Draco allowed himself to be a part of it, as he and Greg had agreed, Draco would take it upon himself to only let out information valid enough to make the group believe that they were getting somewhere, but not really what was necessary.

All in order to make them believe he was cooperating so they wouldn't have to worry about them questioning. 

While Greg was in charge of studying on his own and monitoring the process from afar, ignoring Weasley's constant attempts to try to be friendly with him. 

Which again, was consuming his energy too much. 

Partly that made him angry, how could that idiot believe that everything that had happened just disappeared overnight? That was one of the things that made his blood boil. 

That was not easy. It wasn't about a simple game, it was about someone who had hurt them trying to just appear in their lives as if nothing had happened, and he wasn't the only one.

It was like out of nowhere, all the Gryffindors out of nowhere started noticing them, and that made him angry. 

Just because they were part of that little group of idiots now, did that mean they were people then? What kind of stupid joke was that. 

He couldn't pretend that any of it was okay, even if it was for the greater good, he had a limit. 

At least a miserable apology, but not even  that. 

And he had determined that the only people he was going to talk to besides Greg would be Potter, Weasley and Granger, purely for convenience. He had already had this type of relationship before, it was nothing new. 

The problem was that apparently the other children didn't know the meaning of truce. 

Even if it was for the common good, none of it meant that they should be friendly with each other, it was just being civil, and yet they still had the nerve to look embarrassed when he pointed it out. 

Every time Potter tried to get too close, every time Weasley tried to be "friendly" or every time Granger tried to strike up a conversation with him. 

- "This is a truce, nothing more." 

even if something in him fragmented when the faces looked too hurt or embarrassed or doubtful, but he had already learned to put up with that.

He had to have done it anyway, he couldn't afford to get attached to anyone when they came to his care in the dungeons of the mansion, and he couldn't be hurt when they died, or left. Even when the children they brought were too affectionate with him, or when Luna showed him to be the only one of his acquaintances who didn't judge him for being a Death Eater. 

Draco reminded himself that in the eyes of a child the concept of evil vanished when someone was good to you, even if that person showed good intentions but was actually bad, none of those children were afraid of him when he protected them. So this was just kids trying to fix things like kids. 

But he wasn't really a boy, was he? So if they wanted to fix things, he had to be like he he was.

Even if Draco reminded himself that it was too cruel for a child, even if he knew he couldn't make them see things differently in the end.

But it was so hard to be sympathetic when the itch in his wrist was too much to bear, when he scratched until blood began to ooze from the red streaks that formed in the tender flesh, and when he had to lock himself in a bathroom and just breathe to calm down and not end up stabbing someone like it had already happened. 

Even if it was Granger, or Potter, or any other idiot who had the audacity to approach him, even poor Longbottom had to endure a reprimand for thinking he could ask he to help him study. 

He wasn't going to waste his time like this, no more. 

Draco tried, he really tried , but when he did, none of it went right, none of it was going to change now. 

But things became critical as this little... Truce continued. 

They had been trying to reason with the giant, that for obvious reasons it was not at all feasible to have a Dragon as a pet. 

-"No Hagrid, you can't have a dragon as a pet." -"No Hagrid, you live in a wooden cabin" -"No Hagrid, he will have to learn to fly eventually and this is not a suitable place."

But the giant seemed completely intent on having whatever it was he wanted to accomplish with his experiment, which Draco totally disapproved, he just didn't want to listen to reason. 

So the trio set out to come up with more suitable solutions. All completely nonsensical, or simply not thought through enough, and Draco and Greg just stood silently watching, arguing as to why none of those were viable. 

Until the moment came when Hermione thought it was a good idea to involve the Ministry in this. 

Sure, Draco couldn't blame her for that, these were supposed to be the sort of things the Ministry took care of, but the problem was that the Ministry wasn't exactly the one to do that. 

-“Why don't you just ask your father to do something?”

She just said it, like it was nothing, and Draco wished the girl had believed Weasley a bit  to Weasley and his paranoia. 

His suggestion made everyone except Potter fall silent. 

-“What?” She said. -“He is the one from the school council, isn't he? He doesn't care, I mean certainly he cares more than Ron's Dad but-”

-“Hermione.” Weasley stopped her, biting his lip and letting her know that something was wrong.- “What? What did I say?”

Draco just laughed, amused by the girl's obvious naïveté. 

-“Granger, it's a joke, right?”

Everyone else was stunned, and Draco only allowed himself to stop looking amused when he noticed that Greg had also tensed in place. 

-“Where did you get that my father would help us with this?”

-“Well, it's your father, isn't it? He-”

-“You are not understanding.” Draco stopped her. 

Hermione froze, blinking as she realized what was wrong. 

-“I take it Weasley didn't tell you that I was daddy's spoiled boy and would do whatever I said, right?” Ron went completely dead in that moment, looking too uncomfortable and unable to explain himself. Both Hermione and Harry stiffened. 

-“I'll make it clear to you.” He said . -"I am a resource.”

He said, without any emotion and looking empty. 

Of course it hurt, in part, it had been hard for he to accept his place, and Greg's, and all of them. But that was what they were, a cruel reality that only made fun of them every chance they got. 

Reminding him that the person in charge of protecting and supporting him at all things had only manipulated him and turned him into a disposable puppet. Even if his father loved him, that love was completely removed from the concept of real love. 

-“Greg, Blaise, Theo, Pansy, Vincent, Me, we are all a diplomatic resource for our parents, get that absurd concept of family love out of your head and record that.”

He didn't have to be so blunt, of course he didn't, and he was exposing a part of him and Greg that a child probably wasn't supposed to know, but at this point who could know and what not? 

-“That concept of family love that they instilled in you so much does not exist , we are a resource, nothing more, we are here to stay when they die and continue to be that, if I involve my father rest assured that I will end up being the one guilty of sending Hagrid to the furthest corners of human civilization.” 

-“But...” Hermione made a sound of disbelief and pity . Something that grabbed Draco's nerves and pulled mercilessly. -“But families love each other, your father is supposed to... They...”

-“It's not easy, Hermione.” To everyone's surprise, the one who spoke this time was Greg. 

The boy stood up to take a breath and walk out of the room, leaving everyone in complete utter silence. And Draco realized that no matter how attentive he was to detail, he never noticed that Greg was affected by it as well. 

That feeling of feeling abandoned by the people you love the most. That feeling that had made Draco vomit and stab his arms cruelly, that had driven him to tears and nauseated him every time it manifested itself. 

That feeling that had made him weak from the start, that had hurt him until it had completely undone him, and Draco realized that this had pushed him over the edge. 

That this had pushed them to the limit 

-“Draco, I...” she sounded completely shocked. -“I didn't think...”

-“Malfoy...” Weasley, Weasley the fucker looked at him with something Draco could only associate with pity and shame, how could he have the fucking nerve? 

And Draco could register those damned green eyes doing the exact same thing, looking surprised and somehow just as hurt, as if that was news to him. 

They were pushing him over the edge. 

-“Think again.” 

Draco shaking his head and escaped away from the whole atmosphere to get some air and calm down. 

The blond let out a small, empty laugh of pity at the first instant the redhead managed to register his presence in the infirmary. 

-“Malfoy-” Ron let out an over-jumped shriek. -“You scared me...”

The boy's hand looked like a hideous, almost greenish mass, where the Norwegian ridgeback's bite loomed punishingly on the tender, red, almost weeping skin. Ron cringed once he realized that Draco had been fixing him with his eyes. 

-“You're a complete tard if you thought Madame Prompfey would eat your excuse that it was a dog.” The blond allowed himself to sound thoughtful, as he touched the temple of his head with his finger. 

His gaze went straight to book resting on the boy's legs. 

-“Malfoy... I...” Weasley began, but Draco paid him no attention, the other boy just set about making weird sounds with his mouth and babbling stupidly, a part of Draco almost feeling pity. 

Almost, the other major part of his being drank in the moment with glee. 

-“I'm sorry.” the redhead finally said. -“Everything that happened to you and Greg this year was my fault... I'm sorry that- I... Well...” 

It was a shitty apology. Not at all. 

Draco grabbed the book, picked it up, allowed himself to breathe properly and give the redhead the blankest, most expressionless stare possible. 

And then he hit him with it, as hard as his eleven-year-old body would allow. 

Weasley let a groan of deep, pure pain escape from his throat, as he rubbed his face with need where the red mark like ripe apples was beginning to blossom. 

-“I guess that's enough.” Draco said, looking pleased and keeping a mental image that he would use to keep those memories away soon. -“I'll take this.'

Weasley didn't stop him, just looked at him with something like a combination of hurt, anger, and embarrassment, but only nodded. 

One of the moments Draco allowed himself to pull himself together, this time in a better way, earlier he had hit him for trivial and childish things, adora the blond could tell he had had every right to do so and without any shame. 

Besides, Weasley seemed to be just as much dumb as the first time, unable to remember the letter from Charlie Weasley that was in the book.

<Dear Ron:

How are you? Thanks for your letter. I will be happy to keep the Norwegian ridgeback, but it will not be easy to bring him here. I think the best thing will be to do it with some friends who are coming to visit me next week. The problem is that they shouldn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you take the Norwegian ridgeback to the highest tower, midnight on Saturday? They will meet you there and take him away while the darkness lasts.

Send me the answer as soon as possible.

Kisses,

Charlie>

-“Saturday at midnight.” Greg bit down on the pen, straining his vision slightly to read the letter tucked into one of the book's pages. 

-“That's right.” Replied the blond.-“For all I know, Quirrel wanders the dark forest at night, and McGonagall loves to send children into the dark forest.” Draco let out the last in a hilariously sarcastic tone. 

Quirrel hadn't actually said anything, beyond his conversations with the being hiding behind his head, but Draco took advantage of one of the moments where Greg and him had separated to affirm it. 

-“How are you so sure McGonagall will send us to the dark forest, it sounds like something that would come from Snape.”

Draco let out a small incredulous chuckle, Snape would enjoy more making the knuckles and fine fingers of children mess up trying to clean cauldrons, and while it was true that the dark forest was dangerous, there was a certain limit of space on the grounds where souls could wander without having to be in danger of being devoured by some night owl. 

Either by magic, or by the same territorial beasts that lived there. And McGonagall knew those boundaries perfectly well. 

-“Trust me.” Draco reassured. -“This will drive her out of her mind.”

And so it was. 

McGonagall was furious, with a battle of plaid that Draco thought was in poor taste and a hairnet in her hair, practically smoking. 

The children had burst through the semi-nighttime fog that hung over the world, finding the woman, brazen enough to alert her to the presence of the illegal Dragon. Just as had happened in the past, Draco allowed himself a smile inwardly allowing himself to long for that childlike excitement that crossed with adrenaline. 

They were good at mischief. 

And just as it had happened before, the woman simply freaked out, Greg allowed himself to groan in pain as he was the one who ended up being pulled by the ears across the hallway as the woman led them to where Draco assumed would be the end of this whole Odyssey. 

He looked at Greg trying to be as reassuring as possible, though he didn't escape the amused air the other was holding in the background. 

-“Punishment!” Her voice rang out with a sharp tone. - “How dare you wander in the middle of the night? Twenty points off for Gryffindor.”

Sure, this would lose them more points to Gryffindor, Draco reasoned naively as he remembered that both he and Greg were from Gryffindor. 

Though he was a bit vague, last time Slytherin had lost twenty points with him being only one, he supposed with Greg it would be worth two. 

-“You don't understand-” He allowed himself to speak in a falsely sharp and concerned tone. -“Potter will come up with a real Dragon-”

The woman didn't respond, and Draco wrinkled his nose. 

-“That poor creature was born and will now live in captivity, in case you haven't noticed.” The term, trying to dream genuinely interested in the welfare of fantastic animals. 

Although he was, he always considered himself to have a certain respect for life forms, magical or otherwise. 

-“Lies!” She turned away, looking determinedly reluctant to listen to reason. -“Foolish”- Draco thought, beginning to feel the notes of frustration boil. - “How dare you tell such a lie? Absurd nonsense!” 

When they were both brought into the woman's office. That was new, though Draco supposed that was what was going to happen anyway, they couldn't be taken to the dungeons. The woman looked at them menacingly and then walked back out, leaving them both in the room. 

It was a matter of waiting, so Draco mentally prepared himself as he watched Greg frolic and let out little giggles as the little dragon curled around his ear, eagerly licking at the red blush that was beginning to bloom there. 

He had conjured the Draconifors, once he was sure the woman was far enough away, letting his magic get into the silver body and animate the Dragon figure, and Draco found himself engrossed in the fact that the diamond the figure found itself protecting was buried in his belly, so once the Antipodean Opaleye came to life, it didn't let go of him

They stood there for a few minutes, until, a rumble sounded in the far distance until it finally took shape, along with a laugh that Draco could only attribute to Filch's horrified voice.

Within seconds, two new children had been brought in to share their torment, Harry and Hermione stared at the two of them, looking completely panicked, though Hermione quickly turned her gaze to the figure curled around Greg's ear and let out a small snort of astonishment. 

Then, another figure manifested, it was Neville Longbottom, who was in McGonagall's maw, looking about to stain his pants from fright. 

Greg quickly tried to pull off the small, majestic being that was curled around his ear, hissing as the Dragon was abruptly yanked away in an attempt to hide it, but it did not go unnoticed by the woman, who glared menacingly and raised her wand in a lazy motion.

Sparks of light swirled around the small figure, which curled violently in on itself and then shot out towards Draco's Bracelet, returning to its original place and position before it had been animated. 

Greg made a small sound of sadness. 

-“Hey,” Draco tried to sound displeased. -“You could have been nicer, that poor creature is not the object of your anger.”

The woman spat smoke out of her nose before raising her head to give him a menacing look, and Draco shut up just for Greg's sake. 

-“Harry!” Neville was reduced to a sea of shrieks and sobs.-“I was trying to find you, I'd heard you had a dra-”

Potter signaled for him to be quiet, causing the woman in front of the five of them to widen their eyes with an unwelcome realization. 

-“I never would have believed it.” She said, shaking her head and dreaming as disgustedly as she could. - “From any of you,” and she shot a disapproving look at Draco, more so than the others. 

Then she turned in the direction of the three boys who lay almost trembling beneath her, and Draco feeling a little sorry for Neville, who looked like he was about to crack on a limp twig. 

-“Mr. Filch told me that you were in the astronomy tower at one o'clock in the morning.” McGonagall spoke directing her threatening tone toward Potter and Hermione. 

The girl was as stiff as a statue, no spell would have animated her back. 

That reminded Draco that eventually, she would indeed become a statue, he pushed the second year's memories of him laughing cruelly at that aside in disgust, and focused again on the atmosphere around them. 

-“I see, I think I know what happened here.” She said. -“It doesn't take a genius to know that you made up the story about a Dragon to get Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Goyle in trouble, I assume you thought it was funny that Longbottom heard it too and believed it.” 

Sure, like the weak-minded child he was- the blond thought this was definitely a brutal trampling on the poor boy's dignity and self-esteem. 

The three children looked at each other dumbfounded. Blinking in Draco's direction, who only picked his shoulders in mock innocence. 

- “I've never felt so disappointed.” She said,and something in her let Draco know that, somehow she was. 

That made he feel a pang of helplessness, that she thought she had the gall to look surprised. 

As if she didn't know her own house. 

-“Five students out of bed in one night! I've never seen anything like that!”

- “You-” She turned to Hermione. -“Hermione Granger I thought you had more sense.”

She shrank back, trying to look more helpless than ever. 

-“You, Harry Potter, I thought Gryffindor was more important to you!”

Harry rolled up his sleeves, looking completely flustered and unable to answer anything. 

- “You too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to wander in the dark, especially in this day and age, it's very dangerous.” 

Dangerous, and Draco could not have imagined the satisfaction he would feel, if McGonagall knew what her precious students were doing, he had done far more dangerous things than this. 

-“You will be docked fifty points for this.” She ended her speech. 

-“Fifty!”Harry opened his mouth to protest. 

-“Fifty each.”

-“Professor-” Hermione looked ready to try to reason, but stopped short, though Potter did not. 

-“You-you didn't-”

-“Don't tell me what I can and can't do Mr. Potter.” She had the nerve to sound calm. -“Now, everyone back to bed, I've never been so disappointed in Gryffindor students.”

-“You'll have to think again then, Professor.”

And before Draco could realize it, he himself was standing now, clenching his fists so tightly that his fingernails began to dig into the palms of his hands, Greg noticed a small drop of blood slip to the floor, and urged the blond to sit up and relax his arms. 

But Draco didn't, instead continuing. Boiling. 

-“Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy?” Professor McGonagall, standing in front, looking like an angry Lion whose authority had been challenged. -“May I remind you that I am also supremely disappointed in you. A student as talented and intelligent as you, one would think that-”

-“Don't-you-dare” Draco interrupted, slurring the words with a cold, almost murderous fury that tickled his throat, a venom that longed to leap out of his gut. 

She, the head of Gryffindor house, completely oblivious to all the pain they had to go through, even Snape would have been more attentive. 

-“Do you think you have the right to be disappointed?” the familiar sting in his nose, and the blurred vision, eyes glazed over, but he didn't hesitate. -"I assured you, that if anyone has more right to be disappointed here, it's me.”

-“Mr. Malfoy!” She straightened up menacingly, sounding furious. -“I will not tolerate this disrespect! You are going to-”

-“No.” Draco stomped his foot, and everyone in the room recoiled in surprise at the boy's brave and furious attitude. 

He opened his palms, looking at the blood painted on the skin there, feeling tears as the nail marks arrogantly showed themselves again. 

-“Draco...” Greg tried, he really tried. 

-“No, Greg.” He interrupted, shushing the other immediately. And Draco dug his nails in again, allowing himself to be gripped by reality as that hint of stinging pain of something digging in and embedding itself deep into his flesh shot up his spine. The whiplash of emotions would have made him faint. 

-“If she only knew.”-

If only she knew, if only she knew all the damage he caused, all the pain he left in his wake, the families he destroyed. Every death that had his name painted on it. 

That he had stabbed a child, that he had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, that because of his fault so many people would die. 

If she just got over it, she wouldn't be disappointed, she would be scared and disgusted, of all the pain that surrounded him. 

-“You think you have the right to be angry, Professor?” he gasped. -“All year long, Greg and I were isolated and harassed by your house, if it wasn't for I keeping protections on us all the time, we would have stayed in the infirmary all damn year!'”

-“That would have been necessary for him to notice? Or you would have continued to sit in your wonderful office” McGonagall recoiled, her eyes wide in shock. 

-“You think this is the most outrageous thing your students ever did, well congratulations, it's nothing compared to the times we sneaked out at night, and I stood up to-“ Draco shook his head, allowing himself to reason as much as he could.

-“Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it-”

-“A giant spider got into the common room and almost threatened to eat someone until I had to shoo it away!” Draco lifted his ankle, revealing the small scar that formed there from his battle with Quirrel. 

McGonagall let out an incredulous groan of surprise and Horror, Draco would have liked it better if it had been true, but he would allow himself to lie for now, it was much more believable and less questionable than saying he was up against Quirrel. 

-“How could-”

-“The same way a Troll got in, I assume.” the blond let out a snort of exasperation. -“Oh, and Wasley got bitten, by the way.”

Of course, if McGonagall stopped to look closely at Ron's wound she'd know it wasn't the work of any kind of spider, but it was more believable than saying it was a dog. 

And if McGonagall didn't want to believe in a dragon, then he wouldn't give her a Dragon. 

-“All this time, we've all been in danger under your nose, and you just say you're the one who should be disappointed?”

-“ENOUGH!” McGonagall stopped any attempt at an argument Draco was forming, the atmosphere had suddenly turned cold and a part of him wanted to believe it hadn't been his doing. 

-“I don't want to hear any more! Everyone go back to your beds now if you don't want me to take any more points from you!” She spoke, in a tone so forceful it burned, and Draco wanted, really wanted to squeeze this out to the limit, but the four remaining children flatly refused and all reluctantly crawled back to their rooms. 

None slept that night.  

Gryffindor had lost a total of two hundred and twenty points in one night. 

Everything the house gained in matches, and what little in classes commonly, was broken in an instant. 

And Draco felt... Not good, but it was as if the universe had conspired on his behalf in setting things right. 

All of Hogwarts was angry, the Golden trio and poor Neville were the token of mass hatred, the insults and finger pointing soon followed. 

Draco was thankful that the idea that his person and Greg had helped in this was, at this point in the situation, ridiculous, so Weasley paid instead, partly also because he didn't bother to stay quiet against the insults. But the Gryffindor himself as well as the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff now hated the trio. 

And Neville, of course. 

They assumed that the initial twenty points were taken away once McGonagall found Neville snooping around on the night, and the other fifty were deducted from each of the four, counting Ron Weasley as a participant in said night. 

On the other hand, he allowed himself to revel in the divine justice meted out to the three boys, none of whom seemed to be too interested in anything from that point on.

Which partly began to itch him as well, they seemed to have lost interest even in the subject of the philosopher's stone, which would certainly be a problem. 

They did absolutely nothing though, other than wait for the exams, while Slytherin laughed and gave them fake thanks. Theodore leading the charge, of course. 

By this point, things had taken an unexpected turn of events, the Ravenclaw started talking to them more, even trying to join in the sessions he had with Greg in the library, hoping Draco would enlighten them with his fervent intellect and palante talent, though it always ended in Greg saying vague things and both of them fleeing the scene. 

In particular, absolutely no one deserved anything from them, even Goldstein, who had disappeared as quickly as he appeared, wanted to rejoin, ended up just like the others. 

However, Draco knew that none of this was over, the punishment hadn't come yet, and McGonagall was like mad trying to evade her own students while madly checking every corner of the Gryffindor Common Room and its Towers in an empty and futile attempt to find out where the supposed giant spider that had attacked Draco and had bitten Weasley during the night had gotten to. 

The blond was secretly grateful that the redhead and the rest of the trio had tacitly agreed to go along with his lie, it was certainly much more believable than being bitten by a supposed dog and at the same time lying was a less minor crime than illegally holding and transporting a Dragon. 

Which was practically illegal possession and trafficking of magical creatures. 

Draco allowed himself to fantasize about poor Mrs. Weasley having a heart attack upon discovering that her sons were involved in illegal matters, it would be a funny scene from him. 

Then the expected happened. 

One morning, over his dining room appeared McGonagall's little notes about his punishment, Draco had remembered what his had been like as well, however, it was different now. 

<Your punishment will take place at eleven o'clock tonight, Mr. Filch is waiting for you in the entrance hall.

Prof. M. McGonagall.>

That was how his notice had been in the past, however, once Draco touched it to then ball it up and unravel it, the paper convulsed violently for a few seconds, until in the blink of an eye it elongated almost to the size of a leaf, revealing new words on it. 

<Mr. Malfoy. 

I speak to you in all sincerity that I deeply regret that your treatment and stay in Gryffindor house has not been adequate, both to you and Mr. Goyle, I am very sorry that in my carelessness my students have shown behavior not worthy for a Gryffindor student, and I hope you understand that I am completely sincere in telling you that, you, are an exceptional wizard with a unique intellect and talent, I assume that all your expectations were a disappointment, and I deeply understand your anger towards me and towards Gryffindor about that. 

Please know that I am very proud of you and Mr. Goyle, and that I hope that in the future I can be the Head of House that you hope I can be for you and the differences between us and the house have been forgiven, I would understand if you were willing to talk about a reclassification, and that while I would be sorry for your loss, as every student in my house is very important to me, I would completely respect your wishes. 

Prof. M. McGonagall.>

Draco burned the letter, trying to ignore the strange feeling that would bloom in his stomach. 

-“Then it worked.” Greg said, reading the contents that manifested with the ink, before politely tucking his letter into his pocket (an interesting contrast against his previous action) and turned to face him. 

-“What are we going to do?” He asked, sounding completely curious as to whatever Draco was going to answer. 

-“I don't know.” he replied, and was completely sincere at the time.  

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡. 

Chapter Text

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 19 

𝔄𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔪𝔶

「♤」

Magic always is and always has been a mystery to many Magicians, ironically. 

As much as Wizards and Witches were intertwined with magic from the earliest of times, from that point on, to the present day, all that was known about it was vague. 

Yes, there were hundreds of millions of books, so many that not even the largest library on the planet could hold them, there were hundreds of rituals, spells and recipes; everything to do with magic that hundreds of wizards and witches had taken centuries to answer. 

That even extended outside the universe, in the celestial bodies, as old as the beginning of everything and probably much earlier. 

Magic was primitive, carnal and savage, and even with all that, it was little regard for what magic really was. And the forbidden forest was the clear example of this. 

Draco thought that, as ironic as it sounded, it was actually very lazy to try to say that things like werewolves and night terrors were the most dangerous thing there. He was aware that there were all sorts of beings and life forms created by magic and its remnant, which hovered even in the crevices of the trees that were flourishing there. 

It was curious, in fact the wizards of the past forbade the forest for that very reason, the chaotic and wild display of magic that lived there, over the years formed and mutated every form of life that would pass through its paths. It was incredibly pure, and at the same time dangerous. 

Even so, McGonagall always knew how to differentiate between the boundaries that had been drawn between the Hogwarts grounds and the forest. She knew perfectly well how far someone could go before crossing that point where the possibility of survival became too small. 

So, the woman considered that sending a student to accompany the Castle Ranger on a search was safe, under certain conditions of course.

Although Filch himself was a danger, Draco always saw him as shamefully inept, too angry with children for being a Squip, with tastes and a manner of behavior certainly dangerous for a man who kept in direct contact with people who could not reason beyond a child's vision, and with a distorted form of humor and concept of contentment to the world. 

For what seemed like hours, Draco, Greg, Hermione, Potter and Neville found themselves shuffling in the direction of the forest, feeling a little too uncomfortable with the presence of the man who was leading them too cheerfully to their future doom.

A little partly because of the babbles and moans the Neanderthal let out whenever a too-dark fantasy crossed his mind. 

And Draco was happy to be deeply familiar with astronomy, -and some of the astrology- and allow himself to get lost in the glow of the firmament, and discover the secrets painted there. 

-“Surely you'll think twice before you break another school rule, won't you?” said the man looking at them mockingly. 

-“Oh, yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers, if you want my opinion...”

-“No one asked for it,” Draco replied, hoping it was enough to shut him up, but the man was too far gone to hear him. 

-“It's a pity they've abandoned the old punishments...hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days. I still have the chains in my office, I keep them greased in case they are ever needed...”

The way Filch shuddered at the idea, Made Draco shudder in disgust, he looked higher up in the firmament, noticing that Mars was brighter than usual. And probably today Pluto and Charon would be moving away from or a little closer to the binary orbit the two created with each other. 

Interesting, Draco was strangely touched that even a celestial body could have a "mate." 

-“Well, here we go, and don't think about running away, because it will be worse for you if you do.” the man let out a strange macabre laugh. 

They marched on until at a certain point along the way Neville began to pant a little, and Draco felt shame bloom in his mind, physically betrayed in his cheeks as he remembered his past behavior. 

Well, in his defense, he was justified, he was a child, so running from night terrors shouldn't be embarrassing for one, and certainly saying “Here he ran” was better than “Here he died” so he had no reason to be ashamed of his sense of self-preservation and personal well-being. 

The only difference was that fear should be too foreign for someone with his reputation, both from his golden age and the current one (although technically he was in the same era) so it was embarrassing. 

-“Is that you Filch? Hurry up, I want to get started at once” Hagrid's voice was recognized from the distance, which caused the three boys behind him plus Greg to show a slight glow of animosity and reassurance. Too disgusting for Filch, apparently. 

-“I suppose you think you're going to amuse  with that nincompoop, don't you? Well, think better of it, lad... it's into the forest you're going and I'll have been very much mistaken if you all come back in one piece.”

 Neville squeaked. 

-“The forest...” Draco allowed himself to say, remembering Neville's reaction to his words. 

-“The dangers that dwell there are practically certain death, werewolves and all sorts of things...”

Neville clutched at (to Draco's surprise) Greg's sleeve, and the boy flinched, Greg ran his hand too awkwardly over the other's shoulder, trying to look reassuring. 

-“That's your problem.” said Filch, his voice beaming, -“You should have thought about werewolves before you got into trouble.”

Hagrid came toward them, with Fang close on his heels. He carried a large crossbow and a quiver of arrows on his back.

-“Just as well,” Hagrid said. -“I've been waiting for half an hour. All right, Harry, Hermione, Neville?” He blinked, realizing that Draco and Greg were also on the scene. 

-“I wouldn't be so friendly with them, Hagrid,” Filch said coldly, interrupting any attempt by Hagrid to greet them. -“After all, they're here for punishment.”

-“That's why you're late, isn't it?” Hagrid, scowling at Filch and looking displeased. Draco allowed himself to watch these with watchful eyes, all right, maybe the giant was more civilized than Draco once thought he was.

Anyone who was displeased with Filch's attitude must certainly have been civilized. 

-“Have you been lecturing them?” The giant between closed his eyes,-“That's not what you have to do. From now on, I'm taking over.”

-“I'll be back at dawn.” said Filch, snorting derisively at Hagrid. -“To pick up what's left of them.” he added mischievously.

Draco this time did not turn to speak to Hagrid, instead, he remained expressionless as the stars aligned in the firmament.

-“We really have to go to the Forbidden Forest?” Neville burst out in a quivering mass, almost on the verge of stuttering.

-“You must, if you want to stay at Hogwarts,” Hagrid finally replied.

-"Well, then,” said Hagrid, -“Listen carefully, for what we are going to do tonight is dangerous and I don't want any of you to take any chances. Follow me this way, just a moment.”

Hagrid led them to the edge of the forest and pointed to a path that in the distance split in two and disappeared into the darkness of the trees.

-“Look over there,” Hagrid pointed in the direction of where a silvery glow was visible in the darkness. 

-“See that shining on the ground? That silver? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn over here that's been badly hurt by someone. It's the second time in a week. I found a dead one last Wednesday. Let's try to find that poor little injured one. We may have to keep it from suffering any more.”

-“So that's why McGonagall was so angry.” Draco allowed himself a hepiphany. 

Sure, it made sense that the woman saw it as dangerous that unicorns were being hurt in the forest, technically because it meant that other creatures had engaged in discord. 

However, it wasn't a creature of the forbidden forest that had caused this. And he was also sure that McGonagall was aware of that possibility. 

-“Makes sense, if something is killing unicorns, it would have no problem killing us either.” Neville made a plaintive -“Uh.”

-“There is no being in the forest that can hurt you if you're with me or Fang,” Hagrid said, and Draco quirked an eyebrow in total disagreement.

 -“And follow the path. Now we're going to split into two teams and follow the trail in different directions. There's blood all over the place, he must have been wounded last night, at least.”

-“Poor creature.”Greg reasoned from the sincerity of his form, something Draco retained in his mind as new, usually in the past he had never considered the lives of other beings. 

Though that must have been a side effect caused by his past version. 

-“I want to go with Fang.” Neville burst out first, Hagrid gave a small smile. -“Oh no, I'll have you know he's a coward,” Hagrid said. -“Of course.”- Neville deflated with disappointment. 

-“Then me, Harry Hermione and Greg will go on one side and Draco, Neville and Fang, on the other.If any of you find the unicorn, you must send out green sparks, okay? Get your wands out and practice now-”

The blond went first, pointing his long wand to the sky and waved it throwing a -“Verdimillious” and in a matter of a second, green sparks in the form of small rays lit up the sky above them for a few seconds. 

-“Alright...And if any of you are in trouble, the sparks will be red and we'll all gather together...so be careful...let's get going.”

Draco cursed to himself at the first instant Neville clung to him like gum. 

Once they started walking and the path was again breaking in two directions, Draco decided that this time they would go left and the rest of the Group would go right. Maybe checking to see if the centaurs were good astronomers would be interesting. 

However, Draco allowed himself to be relieved to remember that Theo would also have been involved had he not decided to get it out of the way. If things were happening as they were, and Theo had stayed in the library longer, he would have found out about the dragon. 

And, in that context, Neville and the cowardly dog were not at all bad company compared to the boy he stabbed in the hand. 

That, coupled with the fact that Theodore and Pansy simply acted as if that day had been wiped from their minds, still made him too uncomfortable. 

If Severus had been so willing to protec him in such a way as to go to that extreme, then no doubt things had definitely been very bad. 

Draco allowed himself to concentrate on their path, as they went along Fang was emitting snorts and drooling, and Neville was clinging to him and sometimes startled by a branch. The moonlight began to reflect on silver-blue spots that energized all parts of the environment. 

Leaves, branches, cracks, dirt and even rocks, and the trail was filled with these, making him realize that it actually looked like more than just a chase. 

Voldemort, or Quirrel, must have been really gripped with desperation as to stalk and constantly chase such a creature, to the point of even getting to grapple with it, the blood scattered around looked more like a fight that ended very badly. The blond could distinguish being more observant, that many tree branches were broken as they advanced. 

Traces on the ground, marks on the trunks and silver blood all around, distorting the previously relatively peaceful path and leaving behind a scene of violence. 

No, officially he must have been very desperate, and Draco allowed himself to laugh about it. 

The blonde still found it hilariously ironic how someone as powerful like Voldemort ended up with such a humiliating fate, it was the only thing he deserved. 

Neville occasionally made a sound of pity and fear, jumping at the slightest sound, and only backed away when he noticed that he almost tripped the blond. 

Draco gave him a look that made him cringe, and perhaps the other boy reasoned that there was definitely nothing more dangerous in the forest than Draco, so he decided to stay only two steps back. 

-“W-what do you think could have attacked the unicorn? Maybe a werewolf or a Acromantula?”

Neville spoke as the two began to resume their walk, Fang made a small snort and shook his head, walking past them both. 

-“None.” Draco replied. 

-“What?” Neville questioned. -“But... what else could it have been, maybe a troll?”

-“None.”

-“But-”

-“None of your speculations will be correct, Longbottom, don't waste your brain cells on that.” He said, noting that probably sounded too hostile. -“I simply doubt that anything in these parts of the forest is capable of matching the speed of a unicorn.”

-“How's that?” Neville perked up, moving closer to Draco as a sound of snapping branches was heard in the distance. 

-“Unicorns are beings that have colossal magical power, as well as being very fast, which is the main reason why even a single one of their hairs can be powerful wand cores, or any part of it can be an extremely important ingredient for a potion.”

After all, he was right, one of the purest creations of magic, and the proof of its so ancient majesty, were unicorns. Which is why ending their lives for a selfish and inhumane purpose was considered the most dastardly sin worthy of an eternal curse. 

If anyone dared to disturb one of the most ancient creatures of magic, he or she had to bear the punishment of magic. 

-“We are nowhere near overstepping the boundaries of these grounds,” Draco allowed himself to realize, looking up at the sky and noticing that the stars around him were being overshadowed by clouds. 

- “There is nothing in these parts of the forest that can manage to match the speed and defensive strength of a unicorn.”

-“Then what could it be?” Neville was genuinely interested now, startled slightly when Fang playfully bit the toe of his shoe. 

-“Probably someone desperate.” The blond said, Neville tensing in an instant. 

-“S-someone?”He whispered. -“But... Who?”

-“Longbottom, have you ever wondered why wizards who attack unicorns are disowned?”

-“I... I've never heard of any, really.” The boy answered truthfully. 

-“Because there aren't many who would dare to do it.” Draco stopped short in his walk, noticing that out of the nothingness miles away, something seemed to move. 

-“But then why now?” The other boy seemed to be too engrossed in his conversation. 

- “Out of complete desperation, someone selfishly wanting to hold on for dear life, though-” He turned to face Neville. 

-“Unicorns are supermind-pure beings, and anyone who dares to harm such a being in order to drink its blood will be punished with eternal punishment.”

Neville grimaced. -“Y-you're saying that whatever's attacking the unicorn is.... Is drinking its blood?”

Fang tensed, and let out a growl that alerted the two boys on the spot, in one swift movement, Draco was pointing straight ahead, wand held high, throwing Neville off in the process. 

The sound of something crawling over the leaves, almost like that of some sort of cloth, and a strange shudder was positioned in both of their ears, causing Neville to raise his own wand.

Draco immediately stopped him before the red sparks had been conjured.

-“W-What are you doing!” Neville gasped. -“It'll eat us!”

-“Nothing's going to eat us!” Draco said sternly, thankfully intimidating enough to make the other back down from his action. 

-“Just stay behind me.” Draco sighed defeatedly, and Neville did exactly that. 

They both moved slowly down the trail, Draco sharpened his senses trying to register the trail more closely. In matters of smell, he could only pick up the metallic, ferrous scent of blood, combined with that spark of magic. The only odor that stood out from the other ambient smells. 

However, in the distance, he managed to repair the sound of footsteps on the ground, approaching his location. 

-“Who's there!” The blond shouted, hoping not to alert or draw the presence of any other night terrors. 

In the blink of an eye, the figure of a centaur came into view from the bushes and landed on the path. 

From the waist up, it had the torso of a red-haired man, and from the rest down it had the body of a horse, with a long reddish coat and tail, which in the moonlight seemed to glow a healthy shade of copper. 

It was late when Draco felt Neville conjure the red sparks, alerting him uselessly, Fang made a move in an attempt to escape, which ended when Draco grabbed him by the tail to steady him and hissed. 

-“You're a real pair of cowards...” the blond snorted in exasperation. 

-“So... A centaur.” Draco turned in the direction of the figure hovering in front of them both, who looked patiently calm. 

Once again, the blond emphasized that his past self would probably have had the arrogance necessary to fluster a centaur by addressing him, or would have been afraid or too astonished to move, however, he now considered centaurs to be intelligent beings and certainly shared his loyal interest in what was outside of his universe. 

-“My apologies, it was not my intention to frighten you away,” the centaur said politely, looking especially at Neville whose wand was still smoking and the dog squirming near the boy's heels. 

-“No apologies.” offered the blond, bowing politely as he would to a generally important guest of his father. -“I'm very sorry for the instrusion on your grounds, I'm Draco Malfoy and this is Neville Longbottom.”

The centaur seemed pleased with his demeanor. He bowed in the same manner. -“The pleasure is mine. I'm Ronan.” he said. Neville seemed to relax at the civilized demonstration of humanity the being offered. 

-“Students, isn't it? You learn a lot at school?” Ronan waved in Neville's direction. The boy straightened up. -“Uh...”

Draco let out a snort. -“Something.” He replied, trying to answer the centaur's question. 

-“Certainly something is better than nothing.” Ronan sighed, and lifted his head to stare into the sky, humming to himself. 

-“Listen, Mr. Centaur, I'm sorry we had to trespass on your grounds. However, something has been hunting the unicorns, and we've come to accompany Hagrid to determine their whereabouts, have you seen it?”

The centaur made a thoughtful sound. -“The innocent are always the first to suffer, it has been that way for centuries and will continue to be.” the centaur replied in a tone of voice which Draco analyzed as a combination of calm and helplessness. 

-“It's a pity.” He replied, trying to sound as sensitive as possible. -“Have you seen anything out of place that you can tell us?”

The centaur hummed again as he continued to look up at the sky. -“Mars is very bright tonight.” He replied simply. 

The blond allowed himself to form a smile. -“And Pluto and Charon are moving away from their mutual orbit. Although they may also be getting closer, it's hard to determine when they're too far out of the telescope's viewing range.”

-“You're right.” Ronan seemed pleased by his response. At that same instant, another movement from the bushes behind Ronan caught Draco's attention, and Neville jerked back suddenly as another centaur leapt to position itself next to Ronan. 

One with black hair and fur, and a more unkempt, animalized appearance. -“Ronan.” The black furred centaur addressed them both, Neville ducked behind Draco again as the being's analytical eyes landed on him. 

-“Good evening” Said the centaur simply.

Draco bowed politely again, and before he could respond, the sound of something calling them worriedly by name was heard in the distance, in a matter of seconds, Hagrid, along with the other three boys, appeared behind them, leaping from the bushes and Panting heavily as he raised the loaded crossbow ready to shot. 

-“Oh-” The giant allowed himself to let his guard down as he recognized the figure of the two centaurs in front of him, and Neville, with his wand looking completely guilty behind Draco. 

-“Ronan, Bane, how nice to see you.” He giant gave past wide echoing passes to shake hands with both centaurs. 

-“Good evening Hagrid,” they both replied in unison. -“Harry, Hermione, Greg, this is Bane and Ronan, they are centaurs.”

-“We noticed.” Hermione replied, looking completely engrossed in the scene. 

-“I assume you've met Neville and Malfoy?” Hagrid added. Ronan nodded. 

-“Guys, good to see you, you see a unicorn was injured and we've been-” 

-“Don't even try it.” Draco interrupted immediately, sparing them the fatigue. -“Mars is very bright tonight.”

Hagrid looked at him puzzled for a moment before seeming to catch on and understand his words correctly. -“Ah-” He turned uncomfortably. -“I suppose we should go and leave you two alone, then.”

Draco waved goodbye before starting to walk away again with the group, until more half-human figures gradually disappeared, being covered by the trees, until they finally vanished. 

Hagrid snorted.-“Never try to get a straight answer from a centaur. They're bloody astrologers. They don't care about anything closer than the moon.”

-“ I don't judge them.” Draco replied. 

-“How many of them are here?” Hermione asked, looking thoughtful. 

-“A few more, though they stray far away.” Hagrid replied dryly. He turned in Neville's direction.

 -“Was that the reason you activated the sparks?” Neville nodded shyly. 

Hagrid snorted. -“We're going to need a lot of luck to find something to help us here.” he said -“I'm going to regroup.”

-“Neville, you and Fang come with me, and Hermione, Greg and Harry, you go with Malfoy.”

Greg stepped without objection in their direction and Harry settled next to him rather sheepishly. Looking with some panic at Hermione and Neville, who purposely ignored him. 

-“Thanks to Merlin.” Draco snorted, a sound followed by an audible chuckle from Greg. 

The group moved deeper into the forest, Harry seeming determined to observe every thing around him and Greg just following in their footsteps, both of them, coming to a point where the path began to narrow and the trunks and treetops grew wider as they went. 

-“So... you met the centaurs...” Greg stepped forward to break the silence. - “What were they like?”

-“A thousand times more civilized than Filch, and they know many things, though they speak very little.”

Greg allowed himself to laugh and Harry aborted the sound of a chuckle behind him. 

The bloodstains started as they advanced, looking more like the pathetic attempt of someone bleeding to death fleeing their inevitable end. 

They were getting closer. 

Draco mentally prepared himself for the scene he would see, he knew that even the most beautiful and shining things were predilected to die, from stars to unicorns, and all things outside and inside the world. 

-“Look at that...” Harry raised an arm to call them over, focusing his gaze on a shimmering puddle of something on the ground. 

In a few more steps, they made it to their destination, the inert body of the unicorn already lying empty and slumped on the ground, without a single trace of life in its completely muted and silent figure.

The majesty it once emanated had been completely extinguished, mocking the spies who witnessed the scene in a silvery pool of disgrace. 

And Draco suppressed a groan of pity. It was a bizarrely poetic scene of something so beautiful yet so desolate. Sad and without any regard for life. 

Neither of the two boys behind him had moved before Draco suddenly raised a guard, before either of them had questioned it, a hooded figure approached. 

The blond recognized him immediately. -“That's what attacked me,” he spoke in Greg's direction, ignoring Harry's surprised reaction. 

-“I see it...” Greg swallowed, looking utterly terrified. 

Then, as if in a scene that would make all three boys' stomachs churn, the figure that crawled up to the unicorn's corpse lowered its head and began to drink the blood of the limp corpse. 

It was sickening, the image of the shameless predator assaulting what dignity he had left of the poor inert creature's body beneath him made him feel nauseous in his stomach and Draco would have been satisfied with nothing more than to run back and vomit. 

But he didn't. 

-"Draco! What are you-” Greg tried to grab him by the robe, but the blond was quicker, pushed Harry aside and raised his wand to point it in the direction of the depraved figure that was drawn in front of them. 

The thing ceased its previous action and stood up, silver blood dripping from it and Draco could feel his own heartbeat in his ears. 

Draco flinched as he felt the presence of something trying to enter his mind, he quickly lifted his protections and let himself be comforted by the semi-satisfying sensation of something being pushed out of his mind. 

The figure appeared to be dissatisfied

-“You fucking bastard.” He said, then screamed. 

-“Incarcerous!” the strings shot out from his wand in a furious burst that was aimed directly at the figure in front of them. 

The hooded thing dodged it, then lunged in their direction, setting its sights on one of the three of them. 

Harry let out a desperate cry of pain and brought his hand to his head as soon as the figure set its sights on him, looking completely predatory, the boy weakened in an instant and fell to his own knees with a violent noise, Greg quickly settled down to try and catch the body before it was completely collapsed.

-“Depulse!” his magic was direct and violent, waves of pure, raw magic sent the figure flying forcefully away until his abruptly crashed into a log and fell to the earth with its dragging sound. 

The figure stood up immediately, and Draco licked his lips, holding the spell on the tip of his tongue. So close. 

Before either of them could do anything, the sound of hooves galloping furiously behind them quickly approached, and before Draco could react something jumped and landed cleanly in front of them. 

A centaur was suddenly in front of them, with blond hair and fur and a long white tail, standing in the way between them and the hooded thing, and before Draco or Greg could say anything, Harry let out another shriek of pain that brought all attention to he. 

The centaur snorted in annoyance and raised its paws, kicking the figure with a force and sending it crashing so violently, the log it crashed into shook with the force of the impact. 

The figure rejoined again, but seemed to hesitate its attack and instead of doing anything against it, it fled. 

He fled, and took with him the opportunity to unmask the whole charade. 

He had been so damn close. 

Draco couldn't complain, the centaur moved in quick strides and turned his full attention on Harry. -“Are you okay?” the centaur said, helping him to his feet. Greg stepped aside to allow the boy to stand on his own weight. 

-“Yes... thank you...” Harry turned, blinking at Greg and then tried to focus his gaze on Draco. -“What was... What was that?”

No one answered. 

The centaur watched Haré for what seemed like a moment, neither he nor Greg dared move an inch as the incredibly blue eyes settled on them both and did exactly the same thing he did with Harry. 

-“You're the Potter boy.” He said. And then he turned to Draco and Greg. -“You'd better get back to Hagrid, the forest isn't safe for you two at this time of year.... Especially for you.” he finished looking at Harry again. 

-“My name is Firenze.” He said, as he lowered his front paws to Harry's body height. -“Help him up and get on my back too, it will be faster if you ride.” 

Draco hesitated, wondering if he could run all the way, but climbed on anyway, swiping his legs carefully so as not to disturb too much the centaur who had offered to carry them out of the clearing. 

Greg followed, making a space between them to help pull Harry up who still looked dazed. 

The sound of hoofbeats approaching suddenly came closer, and two figures appeared again in the clearing, it was Ronan and Bane again, standing in the way. 

-“Firenze!” Bane roared in a tone that made the three children shudder. -“What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Shame on you! Are you too much of a mule for a human to ride on top of you?”

Ronan looked in Draco's direction, and inspected him with his eyes as the scene unfolded. 

-“Don't you know who that is?” Firenze said. -“It's the Potter boy, while sooner these kids are out of the forest, better.” 

- “How much did you tell them?” Bane looked exasperated. -“We swore not to oppose the heavens, haven't you seen the movement of the planets? That you haven't seen what will happen?”

The mention of that, made Ronan kick the ground with one of his paws, looking Nervous, and it was Draco's to inspect the centaur. 

How much of all this did they know? 

-“I trust Firenze thought he was acting with the best of intentions.” Ronan said in a somber, but patient voice, trying to reassure Bane. 

It didn't work, and Bane kicked angrily. 

-“The best of intentions? What's that got to do with us? We centaurs must take care of what is written, it's none of our business to go around like vile donkeys looking for stray humans in our forest!”

Suddenly, Firenze raised his paws in fury, Draco clung to his back tightly in an attempt to steady himself and Harry and Greg grabbed onto him to keep from falling off. 

-“What, you didn't see that unicorn?” Firenze asked, pointing in the direction of the majestically inert body that was still slumped over its own silver-blue disgrace. 

-“Don't you understand that he was killed? Or haven't the planets revealed that secret to you? I don't care what you think, I'll throw myself against whoever want to hurt the creatures of this forest, even if I have to carry humans on my back like a mule to do it.”

And Firenze departed far away, without looking back and with Draco holding on to his back with all the strength his childish body would allow him to show while Harry clung to him so as not to fall. Leaving Ronan and Bane hidden in the trees again. 

Harry touched his scar, hissing as the sharp pain punctuated his fingertips, Draco looked over the man to see the lightning figure, bruised and looking ready to burst. 

-“I don't understand anything.” He gasped. -“Why was Bane so angry, what was that thing that attacked us?” Greg gave him a conflicted look. 

-“Don't ask me.” He said. Harry turned his gaze to Draco in an attempt to find answers and the blond tried to take pity, but Firenze interrupted them to tell them to watch their heads from the branches. 

-“Do you tell him or do I tell him?” the centaur reasoned in a patient voice, looking over his shoulder at Draco in a calm voice, the deep blue eyes burning into his soul. 

Draco bit his lip, then relented.

-“Potter, did anyone tell you what unicorn blood is for?”

-“No...” He said in astonishment... -“We use unicorn stuff all the time in potions, don't we? The horns and the hair, for potions?”

-“This is different.” Draco replied clearly aware.-“We can't use unicorn blood, because killing a unicorn is very cruel and frowned upon.”

Firenze hummed. -“It's monstrous, only someone who has nothing to lose and everything to gain could be capable of committing such a crime. Unicorn blood is capable of keeping you alive, even if life is already determined to leave your body, but for a terrible price.”

-“Eh?” Harry blinked in confusion. 

-“When a person drinks unicorn blood to save their own life, they will be doomed to live with a cursed life.”

Draco shook his head, then looked up at the night sky, the clouds had conspired to form a circle around the moon, allowing its bright light to bathe the earth. 

-“Magic is an ancient and primal thing Potter, and all of us wizards and witches live by it, every being in this forest and every other corner of the world. Centaur, troll, vampire or werewolf, but unicorns are different, they don't know the instinct to kill, only to defend themselves, and they don't know the reasoning that drove humans to become evil.”

-“Such a pure being, they are the sample of the purest innocence there is in magic, and killing them for selfish reasons is an unforgivable sin.”

Firenze slowed down. -“Indeed, if one kills something pure and defenseless to save one's own life, one will get half a life in return, a life cursed from the moment it touches one's lips.”

Harry pinned his gaze to Firenze's back, trying to take in the words he had just heard, Greg hummed behind him in realization giving Draco a look of compression. 

-“But...” Harry bit his lip as the scar pulsed again. -“Who would be desperate enough to do something like that? If you're going to be cursed forever anyway, isn't it better to die?”

-“That's right.” Firenze affirmed. -“Unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else that will give you back all your strength, vitality and power. Something that will break that curse imposed by nature and not allow you to die.”

Firenze turned his blue gaze on the three of them. -“You know what is hiding in the school at this very moment, don't you?”

Harry and Greg answered at the same time. -“The Philosopher's Stone!“ and Draco finished his sentence. -“The Elixir of Life, of course.”

-“But... I don't understand, who could?”

-“Doesn't someone come to mind who has waited many years to return to power, someone who is so clinging to life and waiting for their chance?” Firenze fixed his gaze on the road again. 

Harry seemed to think for a second, and Draco would swear he heard a ~“click”~ sound when the boy's green eyes widened with a gleam of compression. 

-“Are you talking about Vol-”

- “Don't say it.“ Greg shook his head, looking over Harry's shoulder at Draco. -“Draco, this has gone far enough, I think it's time you told him the truth too.”

Draco cursed to himself as the boy's eyes immediately darted over him, Greg was right, yes. But it wasn't like the timeline was in danger if Draco pulled it too hard either.

The plan was to unmask Quirrel, but it failed, he couldn't tell Harry openly that Voldemort was in the back of Quirrel's head, the chance that he wouldn't believe him and Draco was about to make a mistake that would put Severus or either of them in a bad way in the future was just as likely as the chance that Harry would believe him and they would unmask Quirrel. 

Everything he had done had failed, and now he had to think again. He was tired of thinking. 

-“Potter, how much of this do you and your friends think you know?” 

Harry blinked in compression, trying to find an accurate word other than “all” or “nothing” to properly express his answer. 

But he didn't answer. 

Draco lowered his head, taking a deep breath. -“Listen to me well. When was the day Gringotts was robbed?”

- “July thirty-first” Harry answered mechanically. 

-“When Hagrid took you to buy your Hogwarts supplies?”

Harry looked puzzled. -“That day, but-”

-“That same day, someone broke into Gringotts to steal the Philosopher's Stone, which was then in the Bank, but I'm sure you know that there was nothing to steal there anymore.”

Harry immediately fell back, looked over his shoulder at Greg, and then looked back at Draco. -"When the year started, I...” The blond bit his lip, trying to find something-whatever was credible enough to back up his testimony. 

-“My mother is really into magical gadgets, I heard about them bringing the Mirror of Erised to Hogwarts, and I wanted to look it up, I thought the mirror would be instructed between October and November, and I determined that would be the one day where everyone would be busy outside the castle for it.”

-“My first match?” Harry said, and Draco nodded. 

-“However, because of certain things I saw I discovered that the mirror had not been instructed that day, in fact, much earlier, before the year started, and before the stone was stolen.”

The blond rolled up the ankle of his pants, revealing the scar hidden behind the fabric. 

-“But after that day, the mirror was.... Taken away, somewhere else, I don't know where, and I thought that maybe.... I thought that Dumbledore found me out, and I don't know what he told you about the mirror, but I know that the reason he did it had to do with the stone. When the mirror disappeared, I started sneaking out at night to find it again.”

-“So what happened?” Harry asked, completely absorbed. 

-“That thing, the thing that attacked us, it attacked me too, I tried to-well, I tried to stop it, but it ran away, I wasn't attacked by an acromantula like I told McGonagall, and it was much earlier, besides. That thing was following me because it wanted the stone, and it was waiting for me to reveal its location.” 

Harry looked completely surprised at the words that came out of the blond's mouth. - “So that thing has been here the whole time, looking for the stone?” Draco hummed in affirmation. 

Greg took the floor -“Draco thinks Dumbledore knew the thing would come here.”

Harry stepped back looking unsure at Greg's accusation. -“That's not possible, Dumbledore wouldn't let-"

-"No one said he wanted it to hurt us.” Draco offered when he noticed the panicked tone of voice. -“However, he knew the stone would be stolen, he brought the mirror earlier because of it, and he asked Hagrid to get the stone out, and I'm sure he was the one who left you the cloak so you'd find the mirror on purpose.”

-"What? But-”

-“It was your father's, wasn't it?” The blond looked sternly into the green eyes. -“Your father and Dumbledore were close friends in the past, Potter, he had to leave the cloak to him.”

Harry immediately fell over at the mention of his father, and remained mumbling words that went unnoticed above the sound of the wind, the leaves and the atmosphere. 

-“Harry!” Hermione came running up as soon as his figure became visible in the distance of the path, with Hagrid dragging his heels and snorting behind her -“Draco, Greg are you okay?”

-“Yes.” Draco replied dryly, sliding down along with Greg and Harry from Firenze's back, staggering as Hermione pounced on them.

-“I'm fine-” Harry replied, sounding not entirely sure of what he was saying. Hagrid stopped in his tracks when he reached them and put his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. 

-“My work is done.” Firenze muttered. 

-“is dead.”Harry said, and pointed in the direction they had come from earlier. -“The unicorn is dead, Hagrid, its corpse is in the clearing.”

Hagrid hurried off, ignoring Harry's attempts to warn him of the encroaching presence that probably still lingered within the forest. 

Firenze sat up again, his fur looking like silver as his figure straightened and the moon bathed him in its light. 

-“Good luck, everyone.” He said. And then he looked up at the sky. -“The planets have been read wrong in the past, even by centaurs, I hope this is one of those times.”

Before any of them could react, Firenze darted back into the bushes, disappearing deep into the forest. 

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡. 

Chapter Text

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 20 

ℭ𝔢𝔯𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔲𝔰. 

「♤」

As had happened before, the last exam was on the history of magic, and just as it had been with the others, Draco answered them with supreme naturalness. After that, the week would end and everyone would have a week off to rest-something he would not do-

Once the exam was over, everyone spread out around the castle to rest, Greg and he had decided to hang out by the lake, Draco found himself glad that the giant squid still seemed to recognize his presence as friendly and wasn't determined to spill water on him when he raised one of his tentacles, either to sunbathe from another angle or to slap the Weasley twins and Lee for poking his tentacles. 

-“Are you still worried about the forest thing?” Greg settled in beside him, letting out a small, childish, mocking laugh as one of the tentacles shook one of the twins hard. 

Draco didn't respond. Instead, he pretended to read a history of magic book he had checked out of the library. 

-“You read things when you're stressed.” Greg settled closer, sitting down so that his legs crossed.

-“I read stuff all the time.” Draco said with a snort.

Greg smiled to himself. -“That's why” He said, sounding pleased with his eloquence. -"And you don't usually read books you've read before.”

Draco closed the book tightly. -“Stop saying things like you're watching me. It has nothing to do with what happened in the forest.” And it was true, though he had shown his utter contempt for how things ended that night. -“It's about Potter.”

-“What?” the boy looked puzzled. -“I thought the whole point of all this had been to open his eyes, now that he knows the truth, does it bother you?”

-“He didn't even believe me.” He said, willing it to be a lie. Indeed, Potter didn't believe him, but if he wasn't going to believe him anyway he could have dismissed it and gone ahead with the supposed plan they had to stop Voldemort, instead deciding not only not to not believe him, but to break down in doubt. 

-“I read somewhere that doubt is a gateway to the real answer, maybe he didn't believe you all along, but now he doubts Dumbledore, that's what you wanted, isn't it?”

-“I wanted him to stop being a slow idiot, he's supposed to be a legend.” Draco exclaimed in disgust. 

-“Give him some credit, he seems to be doing badly.” Greg replied. And Draco let out a sigh. He did know Potter was having a hard time, but that shouldn't matter to him. 

The events of the past trickled in, the exams came and as soon as the anguish set in, it was gone. Or so it seemed.

Fluffy, the Cerberus to whom was unfairly given that tasteless name, had been constantly watched for any warning signs, but all the days that passed he seemed to be completely complacent as he drooled in his place, playing with the dust. None of them spent any time talking about the events leading up to that night, beyond Harry giving the required information to the rest of those involved that night. 

But, oddly enough, skipping the part where the three boys had their conversation as they rode on Firenze's back towards the outskirts of the forbidden forest. And that made Draco question his decisions. 

Putting Potter in a difficult position was only going to make everything worse, he knew, the boy already seemed completely traumatized, moving in his sleep, constantly poking at his scar and seeming to lose even more health than he had gained in his time at Hogwarts. Seeming completely stressed at the whole situation combined with the suspicion the blond sowed in him. 

Hermione and Weasley were certainly worried too, that was something Draco could recognize, but not like Harry, the situation was eating him alive and Draco could feel it, he himself knows the pain of the constant paranoia in his head. 

The nightmares, the feeling of being watched, the guilt and stress, consumed him and consumed him as well, and the idea that Potter was going through it for some reason aroused his fiercest instincts of protection and pity, though it wasn't as if he was willing to help him with that either. Harry Potter never cared about what would happen to him and other Slytherins, why did Draco have to worry about him anyway?

He got carried away telling himself that it was divine punishment. It would be everyone's turn to accept their own sooner or later. 

Regardless of Voldemort's presence, everyone continued to focus on the exams, Greg seemed to crumble when he learned that cheating was not a solution when the feathers were bewitched. Which no doubt also left him worrying more about the exams than past events, and Draco wasn't going to worry about the exams anyway because he had already solved them. 

It was, no doubt, a completely unwanted experience for any child, but Draco was not a normal child, so he wished he had only had to worry about the exams, and not Potter. 

Maybe he was too careless, he could have lied, and not left the accusation open, because maybe Dumbledore really wouldn't know about Voldemort's presence in the castle, he found out he planned to steal the stone and planned to bring the mirror to hide it in the castle, using Harry as the perfect excuse to go to Gringotts, for the purpose of hiding it from Voldemort, and only that. 

Maybe it was too much to tell Harry that Dumbledore allowed it in, maybe Draco was wrong and Dumbledore never really thought that Voldemort would show up at the castle, maybe the old man concluded that Voldemort would stop if the stone was kept at Hogwarts under his care. 

And maybe it was too much to tell Harry that Dumbledore had planned everything for him to have to deal with it, maybe he had only left him the cloak as a gift out of appreciation for his father. 

And Draco had already had that conversation with himself, but it didn't make sense. 

Because Draco knew that surely Snape had already told him, and if the arguments of his hypothesis were true, why didn't Dumbledore stop him? But Draco knew that his accusations were true. Dumbledore had to know, why did he allow it? 

That only made him feel more disappointed, and at the same time more distressed. Dumbledore had had a plan, a plan that he sabotaged by putting Harry in check. Time was running out and it was looking more and more like his contribution to the timeline was bringing them to a disastrous end. 

Now he too was in check. If Harry couldn't stop Voldemort, he would have to, but that meant that now all the blame for the misfortune would fall on his head, he would endanger him and his entire family, for Potter? 

It was different, before he could stop Quirrel and excuse himself that he had no idea that he was dealing with the dark lord, the one who was destined to restore Wizards and Witches to purity and create a new age of magic. Betraying the dark lord, now, from the beginning, would mean turning the Malfoy's into blood traitors, if he ever found out about his involvement, everything he fought for would have been for nothing. 

But if Harry Potter failed, contrary to the original timeline, it was going to be his fault, because he shouldn't be here. 

 Why would Draco have to worry about Harry Potter's night terrors, he never worried about anyone else's, why would Draco have to worry about the person who ruined his hopes and dreams, the person who left him dying in a bath, the person who was willing to save anyone -but not he- the person for whom his own godfather gave his life, and abandoned he, and Draco wished, he really wished he didn't have to worry about that, because none of this should be his job.

But his fate was sealed the very first instant the hat selected him in Gryffindor, and Draco knew that perfectly well.

Why had he been brought back to know that no matter what he did, it would all go wrong? He tried to be friends with Potter and it didn't work, he tried to be in Slytherin and it didn't work, he tried to stop Quirrel himself, and it didn't work. That wasn't a second chance, that was a punishment. 

And he knew perfectly well that he deserved it, anyway. 

Maybe that was his real punishment, to fail, because all the blood he spilled in his past life was going to catch up with him, and Potter was the only one who could prevent that. And it was funny, The exams came, everyone was worried about it, but not him, instead Draco was worried why Potter was suffering, as if he had done the same for him.

-“Don't tell me it's because of him?” Greg wrinkled his nose and looked at him accusingly, noticing the way Draco's lips tightened.

-“What makes you think that?” Draco let out a small laugh of mischief, trying to look incredulous at the idea. 

-“I don't know, since that day you haven't stopped looking at him with that disgusted face that means pity.”

-“It's not pity” Draco hissed, Potter didn't deserve anything from him, not even his pity. -“It's... Anger.” He finally said. -“He's supposed to be the Boy-Who-Lived, he's the one who should be destroy Voldemort, and instead he seems to be done to death, it's a disappointment.”

 True, the blond couldn't have been able to say it with more contempt, Potter never seemed to care about that before, on the contrary, he always seemed to love the idea of being in the eye of the hurricane, he would smile at the Gryffindors after they insulted him and hug Weasley as if Weasley himself hadn't betrayed him before.

Everyone was getting in on it, and it was one of the reasons Draco hated him. -“Look at that, it seems Potter has no respect for himself.” These were comments that Slytherins always said, and it made his blood boil, seeming that having purist beliefs was worse than betray and shattering someone's trust, at least he could have changed his beliefs, but he was sure that Weasley would never have been able to pay for that damage. 

Perhaps because deep down Potter was so abused, he never considered that his trust and dignity should be respected, but that never mattered to him before, and now it seemed that the idea of being betrayed or used by someone he admired and trusted had brought him down. 

-"Why does it bother you anyway?” Greg questioned hesitantly. -“I thought you'd be happier about that.”

-“Voldemort is in the castle, Greg, and it's supposed to be his job to stop him, he's not doing anything about it.”

-“It shouldn't matter to us anyway.” Greg shrugged indifferently. -“I know you say it's not right, and thanks to you I now know it's a fraud, but that's supposed to be good for us, isn't it?”

Draco put his hand to his face. -"It's supposed to, the problem is that we've been foiling their plans, we're in Gryffindor and we're practically blood traitors. Greg, would it be good for us if he won?”

Greg gulped, his facial expression changing as the realization hit him. -“oh...”

The sun was shining, filtering through the gaps in the leaves of the tree they were both sitting in, Draco was about to start an argument that was silenced when a particularly loud sound echoed from a couple of nearby trees. 

-“My scar still hurts!” The boy exclaimed as he rubbed his forehead angrily, -“It's happened to me before, but it never lasted as long as it does now!” he hissed and pulled his finger away from his forehead as a twinge of pain became too loud. 

-“Go see Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione suggested casually. Harry grimaced. -“I'm not sick,” He said. -“It's been happening to me since the day we were in the woods, I think it's a warning...”

-“Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the stone is safe, we're fine, we've never had proof that Snape will actually find the signature to outwit Fluffy, last time it nearly took his leg off, and as long as Dumbledore is here-”

Harry suddenly pulled himself together, looking angry. -“Stop saying that as if that thing didn't attack me in the forest while he was here,” he snapped, averting his gaze to somewhere in the sky, Draco startled. 

-“Harry, calm down,” Hermione raised her arms in an appeasing gesture. -“It's just the stress of exams, it's getting to you, I woke up last night and I was about to go over my transformation notes again, until I remembered we'd already taken that exam, just relax.”

It didn't work, Potter averted his gaze for a second, before jumping up, making everyone recoil. 

Whatever Ron and Hermione were about to say, it was immediately silenced. -“We need to go see if Hagrid, now.”

The two looked at him quizzically. -“Why?” Hermione wiped her skirt and settled down to get up. And they made their way upstairs as Harry's voice trailed off with him. 

-“What was that all about?” Greg blinked in bewilderment, Draco closed his book and set it carefully on the floor. 

-“I don't know.” The blond fixed a strand of hair falling from his forehead as he stood up. -“But we're going to find out.”

Both he and Greg hurried to catch up to the trio of children, stopping steps away from the hill once they ended up at Hagrid's hut. 

-“Something's wrong”- Draco approached, skirting around the trees and stopping when the group stopped, spotting Hagrid perched on a couch outside his hut, they approached him, Draco waiting until they were settled so he could approach and perch quietly close enough to hear, Greg doing exactly the same as him. 

Hagrid seemed to light up completely as the three boys approached. -“Hello” in a cheerful tone of voice. -“Looks like you've finished your exams, can you stay for a drink?”

Weasley attempted to reply, but Harry abruptly interrupted. -“No Hagrid we're in a hurry, but I have to ask, do you remember the night you got Norberto? Do you remember the stranger who gave it to you?”

-“I don't know,” Hagrid frankly and indifferently. -“He never took off his cloak.” 

Cloak

Draco's eyes widened at the feeling of discovery that suddenly hit him. -“Cloak... Of course...”

-“What?” Hagrid looked doubtful. -“It's not as strange as it seems, there are a lot of strange and ominous people in the Hog's Head, a Dragon dealer, perhaps? I never got to see his face because he didn't take off his hood.”

Harry knelt down near a bowl of beans the giant had been eating earlier. -“Did you talk about Hogwarts? What did you talk to him about?”

-“Maybe,” Hagrid said, with a quizzical grimace, -"Now that you mention it, yes.... I wonder what he was doing when I told him I was a ranger here? He asked me what kind of animals I was taking care of, I explained and told him what I always wanted to have a dragon, it was the only one I hadn't been able to take care of...”

-“After that... He invited me many drinks... I can't quite remember.” Hagrid hummed, seeming to remember something. -“Uh- He told me he had a Dragon egg and that he could win it in a card game, he warned me that I had to be sure I could take care of it, so I told him that after Fluffy, a dragon would be nothing.” Hagrid let out a small sound of innocence. 

-“And he was more interested in Fluffy?” Harry asked calmly, but Draco noticed even from a distance how the rise and fall of his chest increased. 

-“Well, who wasn't?” Hagrid burst out laughing. -“How many three-headed dogs do you know? So I told him Fluffy was very friendly, he falls asleep right away if you play music for him...” Hagrid instantly blinked and was horrified. 

-“I shouldn't have said that!” he shouted. -“Forget what I said- Hey! Where are you going!”

But before the giant could stop them, the three children were gone.

Draco walked angrily, turning away from the trees they were standing in and heading towards the castle. 

-“That idiot...” He hissed, - “Of course, of course it would be his fault-that giant fool- he was tasked with something so simple h screwed up and now because of him we're all lost.”

Of course, Draco wished he had paid more attention to the damned kids who kept going on and on about the exploits of the golden trio, he could have prevented a lot of things. 

-“What's wrong?” Greg followed suit, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. -“Draco, what's wrong? What's up with that, you-”

-“I was wrong!” Draco exclaimed in horror, turning to confront Greg so suddenly that the other boy almost fell over. -“I was wrong Greg, damn it.” Draco reached into his pocket, pulling out his wand and began to squeeze the handle hard. -“Dumbledore didn't know, Hagrid was the one told Voldemort about Fluffy, he wouldn't have come here if it hadn't been for him-”

-“What happened?” Greg seemed to panic. -“What are you talking about, Draco?”

-“He had known for a long time, Greg, he knew before how to outwit Fluffy.” The blond spat. -“Hagrid told him, but he didn't do anything because Dumbledore was here, he didn't know Voldemort was coming, and I supposed he did, if he had known this from the beginning we could have told him from before and this would have been solved!”

Greg blinked for a few seconds, reconsidering what to say for a moment before offering. -“There was nothing you could have done, you know, none of us could have guessed.”

Draco shook his head. -“What day is today?” he said hoarsely, suddenly all his air was suddenly short of breath and it wasn't enough. 

-“June 3rd.” Greg replied calmly. 

June 3rd, Draco swallowed audibly, Quirrel died on June 4th during some time in the early hours of the morning, that meant that June 3rd must have been the day where Quirrel would try to pass the stone, and Dumbledore would be tricked out of the Castle. 

-“Shit...” the blond put his hands to his head, starting to breathe more erratically. -“Shit... Merlin, It's today... Greg”

Greg looked completely shocked. -“What do you mean by that? Draco already spit it out what's going on.”

-“It's today Greg! Voldemort plans to steal the stone today!”

Greg reeled hard, Draco's accusation hitting them both. -“What- Are you sure? But- Dumbledore-”

-“He's not here.” Draco shook his head, -“We have to go, We have to stop it.”

-“We have to?” it was Greg's turn to swallow. -"Draco, you're talking about Vol-the Dark Lord, do you have any idea what that means? He'll kill us!”

-“He won't kill us!” the blond threw up his hands in exasperation. -“He's been relying on unicorn blood to survive, Greg, if he was that powerful Dark Lord, he wouldn't even have needed to use Quirrel in the first place!” determinedly omitting to explicitly mention that Voldemort and Quirrel were the same being, technically, no one would ever think that someone like him would meet such a fateful end. 

-“You're going to kill us,” Greg huffed, but finally resigned himself to follow him after a while, Draco gave him a sly grin in return. 

-“I know.”

Draco moved through the corridors, too frantically for someone with knowledge of stealth, but he couldn't afford to wait for calm, if he stopped in spite, he would regret it anyway. He had found no sign of Quirrel anywhere and the time of night was approaching. 

Of course he would, none of this was planned, and he hadn't thought of a plan beyond improvisation, but he couldn't regret it either. No one was going to save them. He had sent Greg in the direction of the common room with the dark volume, he would keep him there until the golden trio arrived and that would be enough until nightfall, they needed all the information they could get, but Draco didn't want to interfere with most of the original events. 

A part of him still worried, he knew Greg would hate him for it after he had told him they would both stop he, but involving Greg was dangerous, not only because of the supposed evidence, but also because he certainly shouldn't be involved, in the same way Draco was, but at this point, his own life didn't matter much to him anymore. 

So he supplied a few drops of sleeping potion in his food. He wouldn't be awake by the time tragedy caught up with them, and Draco wished he could have told him, but if anything happened to Greg, even after death, the guilt would haunt him. Greg had gotten himself into this trouble because it followed he, because of he, it was only fair to save him from this. 

At least if he died at the hands of the dark lord, at least his parents would know what he truly was. At least he could save them.

He was too deep in his heart to think with his head, too disappointed in himself to move forward, but also too hysterical to stop. The same euphoric feeling he felt every time he went into the Room of Requirement to repair the vanishing cabinet, and the same feeling every time he came out, feeling sick with hatred that he couldn't do it. 

The same feeling he felt every time he had to try to kill Dumbledore and fail, and discover that he failed, again, and again, because he was destined to fail, as much as Potter was destined to win.

Quirrel was nowhere to be found, Snape was not an option, Greg would be kept away for his own well-being and he was not thinking straight. 

The only chance he had, was the golden trio. Draco hoped that damn cloak was big enough for the four of them to fit in. 

The common room was empty, the only thing that was there, was the presence of Granger and Weasley, talking low, but when they saw Draco, they immediately fell silent. 

Anyone else would have done it, the blond was fully aware that he was not at his best; he was sweaty, his hair descended in a long lock that covered from his forehead to almost reach the tip of his nose, other short ones that stuck to his temples. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face was distorted in an inflexible and angry look. 

-“Where's Potter.” Draco spoke, bluntly, without thought, and without games. 

Hermione and Ron tensed up, tofurrow in his direction completely stunned. -“Ah- Malfoy-”

-“No.” Draco took a step forward, with no intention of arguing. -“I know what you're planning, the problem is you're not going to pull it off, not without help. Now, where's Potter.”

The two children were completely stunned, looking genuinely shocked at the words they had just heard, and to no one's surprise, Hermione spoke first. 

-“It was because of his cloak.” She said finally. - "Draco- uh, you.... You... Do you want to help us?” she seemed... Happy. 

Draco wanted to laugh. 

-“This isn't about you guys.” The blond spat bluntly. -“This is about me, now, yes, I'm going to help you, but not because I want to, I'm completely obligated to offer.... My services, now that I finally understood the gravity of this situation and must remedy my mistake.”

Neither of them seemed to understand anything. -“Malfoy, what do you mean?” Weasley tried to speak as quietly as possible. 

-“You've been running around in circles, holding the truth under your noses all this time, and I... Well, I knew it too.” Draco tried to ignore the guilty sound that escaped his throat. -“I... I assumed that Dumbledore planned this whole thing, the stone, the mirror, Voldemort, but then you guys started going off the rails, and I interfered on my own thinking that maybe that would make it all come out right.”

-“Potter didn't tell you, but that night, as Firenze was leading us out of the forest, I told him that the mirror had been brought in earlier and that Dumbledore planned to bring the stone here, plus he also planned give him the cloak so that he could discover the mirror, I accused Dumbledore of planning all of this.”

The two boys looked at him, with nothing but stammering. Draco sighed. -“But that just made everything worse, now Dumbledore is gone, Harry is in no state to fight, and Voldemort is already on his way to get the stone.”

-“Malfoy...” Weasley looked horrified. -“You... You knew all along, why- Why didn't you say anything!”

-“Ron!” Hermione hissed, trying to keep Weasley from raising his voice. -“Keep your voice down!”

-“Why!” Weasley raised his hands in hysterics. -“What the hell Hermione, he knew all along and yet he just stood by and watched and did nothing!”

-“I couldn't interfere!” Draco interrupted, feeling the adrenaline rush as he lunged towards Ron. -“Of course you could have, you would have saved us all this!”

Draco scoffed, tensing his arms, his throat aching from not being able to scream. - “Really? You?”

Ron paused, looking at him with an emotion... Something, something Draco wished he could never identify. That same look that had been given to him many times, many faces, made him feel nauseous. 

Draco reached over, grabbing Ron by the shirt. Hermione let out a panicked shriek. -“You? You? The people who just made my first year of Hogwarts bloody hell? Who forced me and Greg into isolation, who would cast spells and curses on us? Tell me, Weasley, did you expect me, after all that, to trust on you?”

Ron pulled away roughly, breaking free of her grip and knocking them both off balance. -“I told you I'm sorry- damn you Malfoy! You hit me in the face with a bloody book, you-you joined us, you saved Harry-”

-“I didn't-” the way Draco let it out, made Ron wince -“I made a truce, that was it, we're not friends, I didn't join you, and I saved Potter because I thought he was the only one who could stop him-”

-“Then what are you here for?” Hermione said, looking hurt, Draco turned his gaze to the girl, surprised that she was about to burst into tears. -“I... I'm sorry, Draco, I'm sorry for all of this, I should have said it earlier.” 

She put her hands to her shoulders. -“I know you said it, but all that-me, I thought we were fine, when we were talking and everything, I thought you weren't mad at us anymore, mad at me. You could have told me!”

The blond would have burst out laughing, if the threat of lifting everyone else wasn't very much on his mind. -“I wasn't mad at you. Granger, I was disappointed and...”

Draco put his hand to his mouth, trying to keep the words from coming out, he knew vaguely that he had started to Pant because the air was starting to get thin, and he knew he should stop and think before he said something he would regret later. 

-“I was hurt, ok? Of all this bunch of idiots, I thought you were the smartest, I thought I could trust you! That you'd outsmart this! Greg did too!” Draco pointed a harassing finger at the girl. -“But I was wrong, you walked away, you stopped talking to us, you hurt Greg, and I-”

-“I have the cloak.” to everyone's surprise, Harry was in the Common Room, wearing what Draco recognized was the Invisibility Cloak. The boy looked at him for a moment, puzzled. 

Draco looked back at him and repaired him with his eyes, he looked horrible, haggard, thinner, dark circles under his eyes that could be made out even in the dark, black locks fell messy and sweaty, his limbs trembled and Draco could swear that the scar on his forehead throbbed, in a bruise of angry red. 

-“Draco...”

-“Potter,” Draco just nodded, thanking the stars that Harry had shown up just in time to cut the earlier discussion short. 

-“You... what are you doing here?” He said, his voice trembling as he whispered. 

-“he're been telling us that he knew all along that Who-you-know was at the school looking for the stone and didn't tell us.”  Ron spat, but flinched at the swords glare Hermione threw at him. 

Harry's eyes widened in shock at the accusation. -“Is that true?” 

-“Yes.” He admitted. -“I... I heard about the possibility of Voldemort showing up at the castle, I.... Listen Potter I... I was wrong.” Draco shuddered inwardly, noting the way his words came out with such sincerity. -“I... I thought Dumbledore planned all this, that he knew Voldemort would come to the castle, that's why he gave you the cloak and the stone.... But he didn't, that accusation just put you- put us all in a worst situation and now Voldemort is on his way to get the stone.”

-“What do you mean by that?” Harry seemed to sound completely stunned by the revelation. -“You knew Voldemort would be here? And yet? You made me doubt Dumbledore, when you knew all along?”

Somehow, Harry's words made something in Draco twist with disgust, the very idea that he could do or be anything like Dumbledore created in him a sense of intense disgust, something that made him sick with himself. 

But it made him snap. He would never be like Dumbledore, Dumbledore never helped him, never protected him or anyone else, he just lied to everyone, and Potter dared to compare him to he? 

Who was Harry Potter to do that anyway? 

-“Fuck it.” the blond felt anger bursting under his veins. -“Do you really think I wanted this? Do you think I would have preferred Voldemort to come back?”

-“Your parents are Death Eaters.” Ron spat immediately. -“It's obvious you are too.”

That was it. 

-“You don't know anything about me!” the blond burst out, too loud, too much-but he wasn't going to stop, he cast a spell to block out the noise and continued-“You don't know anything about me, you don't know anything about my life! You keep saying and assuming things about me just because of my last name, why? Out of jealousy? Out of hatred? Do you think I don't know what he is?”

Draco moved, too fast for any of the three kids to register, gripped so tightly that the shirt crinkled and pointed his long wand at his forehead. 

-“If you knew what I know about him, not only would you not be wishing he didn't come back to power, you'd be disgusted, horrified, and a single mention of what he is would leave you with nightmares for the rest of your life.” 

And Draco was absolutely right, Ron would never be a Death Eater, he was never a Death Eater, he would never know the true bestiality and depravity that Voldemort's name brought with it. 

Hermione struggled with him, trying to get them both to break away. -“That's enough! Both of you, you're going to get us found out!” Draco pulled away as the girl put her full weight on him, threatening to knock him off his feet. 

His gaze shifted to Harry. -“If I really wanted to have fun watching the dark lord ascend, Potter, not only would I not have come here in the first place, I wouldn't have saved your pathetic ass in the forest, nor would I have shown you the mirror in the first place.”

The blond pulled himself together, smoothing his own robe. -“So forgive me, hero, for not telling you that Voldemort was trying to take the stone all along and I decided to work on my own when you, along with your friends, spent the whole damn year making me unhappy!”

-“I didn't want any of that!” Harry exclaimed, moving forward. -“I would never have wanted-”

-“That's enough!” Hermione interrupted them, yanking Harry's cloak off and pushing both boys away from each other. -“Arguing won't change anything! The past is the past and fighting over it isn't going to help stop any of this!”

She rolled up her robes, pulled out her wand and pointed it at the exit. -“Vol- He's out there, now, looking for the stone, I think you were the one who had said we should stop him!” She turned especially to Harry, making him back away completely. 

She turned in his direction, and looked at him as if to duplicate. -“Draco, are you here to help us stop it?”

Draco hesitated, for a moment, a part of him still couldn't let go of the knowledge that, from this point on, everything he would do and go through in the future, would be completely changed. 

Still, he wasn't going to say no. 

-“Yeah, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for that.”

-“Good.” She looked like she wanted to say something else, but just held it in and nodded. -“So, what's the plan.” She handed the cloak to Harry again, the boy received it in a daze and stammered for a moment. 

The blond swallowed, too uncomfortable to continue, but at the same time there was a strange fury inside him that drove him on, none of them had the right to claim anything from him, and even in the situation they were in, they did. 

And he chuckled to himself, even after a lifetime, he was still making the same mistakes, but there was no turning back now, and he wasn't going to involve Greg in this. 

- “I think it's big enough? We'd better put the cloak on here, if Filch finds us out-”

-“What are you going to do?” the voice of Neville, from a corner, echoed, Harry stopped adjusting his cloak to look at him as he approaches them. 

-“Merlin, how long have you been there, Longbottom?” Draco grimaced slightly as Trevor, the toad Neville was clinging to, tried to tear himself from his hands.

Before Neville could respond, Harry interrupted. -“Nothing, Neville, nothing, go back-go back to sleep-”

Neville looked at him as Harry tried to arrange his cloak behind him, hoping the boy wouldn't be able to recognize the figure in it in the dark. Neville's eyes widened as the realization hit him.-“You're going out again?”

-“No, we're not-” Hermione stepped in front of him in an erratic movement. -“We're not doing anything, we're just-we were arguing, why don't you go to bed, Neville?” She tried to calm him down. 

-“You can't leave.” Neville continued. -“If you go out again, Gryffindor will be in more trouble!”

-“You don't understand!” Harry exclaimed impatiently. -“This is important, Neville-just, go back to bed, will you?”

But Neville was determined. -“No, I won't let you do it!” And he ran, blocking the exit hole in the portrait. -“I... I'm going to fight you!”

Ron, who had just regained his balance. He burst out. -“Neville, get out of the bloody hole and don't be an idiot!”

-“Don't call me an idiot!” Neville shrieked. -“It's not fair that they keep breaking the rules and we all have to pay for it! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!”

Ron recoiled, looking surprised at the boy's sudden bravery. -“Yeah, but not us!” The red-headed boy said in exasperation.-“You don't know what you're doing!”

The red-headed boy took a step toward Neville. The boy dropped the toad, which in an instant took the opportunity to disappear into the darkness of the room and raised his arms in a feeble attempt at a fight. - “Come, then try to hit me! I'm ready!”

Ron looked hesitant, struggling with the boy in an attempt to push him away from the door. But it didn't work, and Draco decided they had wasted too much time already. 

-“Neville.” Everyone flinched at the sudden hoarse dominance that escaped the blond's voice. -“Neville, Neville, Neville...” He reached over, pushing Ron out of the way and putting an arm on Neville's shoulder playfully. 

-“Theo cursed you one day, didn't he?” Neville nodded, looking dazed. -“Well... I'll tell you something” and Draco fiddled with his wand, pointing it in Neville's face in such a way that the boy's eyes fell on it mesmerized. 

-“That curse is nothing compared to the repertoire of curses I have in store for cases like these, did you ever think what it would feel like to have your eyes pop out, your bones turn to jelly, and all your organs, blood and bile turn into a foul, hot mass trapped under your skin?”

Neville, by now, was trembling and had shrunk to an almost impossible point. -“N-no-” the boy choked as he spluttered. 

-“Good.” Draco grunted, tightening his grip on his shoulder. -“I'm not personally encouraged to give you a demonstration, but if you insist...”

-"Wait!” Hermione squawked and raised her wand and said. -“I'm so sorry Neville, really. Petrificus totalus!”

Draco turned away in a grace as a light suddenly flashed in the boy's direction, watching with startled eyes as Neville's limbs tensed and stuck together, looking completely rigid as a statue, he swayed once, twice and then fell face down, stiff as a log. 

-“Unbelievable” Draco moved Neville's body with his foot, turning him face up, his eyes were moving frantically, his jaw was completely tense, he had turned into a statue. -“And I thought of all people, you'd be the last one to do something like that.”

-“Well,” She grunted, kneeling down to look at Neville apologetically. -“Much better than what you were going to do to him.”

Draco let out a small, hollow laugh. -“I wasn't really going to do it, the most I would have thrown at him would have been Langlock.”

Ron grimaced. -“What's that?” he asked. 

-“You want to find out?” The red-head shook his head frantically. Draco let out a sigh. 

-“What did you do to him?”Harry approached, his eyes wide as he looked at Hermione. 

-“Petrifaction, totally immobilized him.” Draco offered nonchalantly, as he put his hand to start pushing the portrait, until the semi-night light from the other side filtered through the hole, in a couple of seconds, the exit to the Common Room was revealed. 

-“I'm sorry...” Hermione gave a friendly pat on Neville's stiff shoulder, the other boy rolled his eyes in horror in her direction. -“You'll understand later Neville, really...” Ron walked over to Harry and Hermione. The three boys began to pull their cloaks over themselves, and Draco watched as the bodies of the three were hidden from view. 

-"What are they doing?” Draco spoke quietly. -“We don't have time for that, get out and wear it outside!”

-“We can't risk Filch seeing us!” Harry spat, opening the cloak to reveal a space between him and Hermione. -“Come here, before we're discovered.”

Draco considered the idea for a moment, the cloak looked roomy enough that his taller body could fit perfectly, but no doubt the discomfort would kill him. -“You've got to be kidding me...”

Harry's serious look told him that certainly the boy was determined, and the blond succumbed and let out a defeated snort. 

-“You better not step on my shoes.” Draco settled into the space, thankful that the cloak was large enough for him to fit perfectly, even seeming almost to have been enchanted to widen with Magic. 

Honestly, it was completely, torturously slow, walking in the invisibility cloak with limited space, not to mention the discomfort and heat and worrying about being quiet and not getting caught, combined with the pitiful feeling of having stepped over the now statue of Neville, who would be passed over by ants as he was trapped inside his body. By now getting to the first staircase had been a complete miraculous odyssey. 

Mrs. Norris meowed, and stretched as she stood comfortably on the first step. Ron whispered something to Harry, but Harry shook his head and encouraged them to walk carefully past the animal, ignoring the way the cat became alarmed when she sensed the presence of the four boys. 

None of them encountered any other individuals, until they reached the stairs to the third floor, and by this point, they were all gasping for air and sweating. 

Before they could climb the step, the figure of Peeves materialized in front of them, and he stopped suddenly, ceasing to loosen his grip on the carpet and beginning to stare in the direction of nothingness. 

-“Stop!” Draco hissed, suddenly stopping Harry's movements.

-“What are you doing?” Ron exclaimed. -“He can't see us!” 

-“No, you idiot, but he can sense us!” Draco hissed, looking back in Peeves' direction and pointing at him to emphasize his point. 

The entity hovered for a few moments, circling, until it finally stopped over where the group was supposed to be. -“Who's there?” he said suddenly. -“I know they're here, though you can't see them, apparitions, ghosts, or stupid students?”

The Poltergeist lunged at them, but stopped immediately before adding. -“I'd better call Filch... If something invisible is going around...”

Ron and Hermione tensed at the threat, Draco was about to ready his wand, but Harry immediately interrupted. 

-“Peeves...” Harry grimaced, swallowing hard as he forced his voice into a hoarse whisper from beyond the grave. -“The bloody baron has business of his own for being invisible.“

Peeves deflated, noticeably descending into air at the shudder that enveloped him, and Draco had to admit that using the bloody Baron had been a smart thing to do. 

-“S-sorry, your bloodthirsty lordship-it was a misunderstanding!” The ghost tried to focus a fawning whole, stumbling over his own words. -“I didn't see it... Obviously, you are invisible-forgive old Peeves for his joke-sir...”

-“Get the hell out of here Peeves!” Harry growled, seeming about to give in to the desires in his throat. -“I've got things to do.”

The Poltergeist nodded enthusiastically. -“of- course sir- I hope you accomplish what you have to do successfully, I won't disturb you anymore-” and with that said, Peeves rose into the air with absolutely nothing more to say and, to Draco's surprise, disappeared without an inadequate sound, silently. 

-“Well done Harry!“ Ron gasped with excitement, the cloak lifted off the ground slightly. 

In a matter of seconds and a few wrong steps, it's second floor corridor was in front of them, with the door already open, Draco ejected himself from the cloak excitedly as he gasped for air. 

-“That thing is hotter than fucking hell!” The blond exclaimed as he wiped a thin layer of sweat from his forehead, arranging a few strands in the process. It was vain, though, as the strands returned to their original state. 

Hermione nodded as she did the same, fixing her bushy hair in exasperation and blowing to get a few strands off her forehead. 

-“Well...” Harry pointed in the direction of the door. -“As you can see, Snape has already gotten past Fluffy.”

Snape. 

Draco froze for a second, the reminder that the golden trio had been wrongly following Snape hit him over the head when Harry mentioned Snape. 

-“Uh...” The blond started, but fell silent immediately, trying to think better of giving a more suitable reason. -“What does Snape have to do with this?” he asked in mock disbelief. 

The three kids looked at him in astonishment. -“You don't know?" Ron began, -“Snape is the one who's been helping the dark lord get the stone!” The red-headed boy shrieked dramatically as he made a horrified face. 

Draco scoffed, partly out of sincerity and partly because he wanted to look as incredulous as possible as well. He wasn't going to tell them that Quirrel was the real culprit, that would most likely trigger another argument, which he didn't have the time to deal with, instead, he would leave it open for the group to question themselves. 

-“Snape has been more concerned with making the lives of annoying children unhappy than helping Voldemort return.” he added. 

-“Stop saying his name!” Ron spat. -“And we didn't make it up, it's him!”

The blond formed a smirk. -“Snape is in the dungeons of the castle, enjoying his bad nightly habit of making potions.” He said, putting a growl into his statement, it wasn't like he was lying either, and it wasn't like spending all night making potions for who knows what wasn't a bad habit either. -“Every time I wander around the castle I pass that way, and there he was.”

The group looked at him in surprise, and exchanged looks of astonishment at the discovery. 

-“That doesn't matter,” Hermione denied. -“Whether it's Snape or not, he has to be stopped.”

Before the three of them advanced toward the door, Harry stopped them, biting his lip nervously. -“If you want to go back... It's okay, you can take the cloak, I don't need it.”

-“How heroic,”- Draco thought, with disgusted irony. 

-“Don't be stupid.” said Ron. And Hermione followed suit. -“We're with you.”

Draco wanted to laugh at the sudden poignancy of personal selflessness the boy demonstrated, wondering how stupid Harry was to think he could fight against, or what was supposed to be, Voldemort. In the state he was in, Draco knew he would not survive five minutes in the face of Voldemort's evil presence.

He seemed that he hadn't slept in days, nor had he eaten in days, and it was obvious that the scarring and the constant effort to stay on his feet was obviously draining all his reserves of physical energy-and probably magic as well-and those were resources that every wizard or witch who would face Voldemort had to know how to ration. 

But, in this state, that Harry Potter had survived was more by luck than logical reasoning, something that reminded Draco that Gryffindors were the height of recklessness. 

Harry seemed moved and pushed on the door, making it creak suddenly, the sound of a paradise melody escaped outside, and the giant dog's three ocic ears darted in the direction of the four of them, sniffing and growling, but the Cerberus still made no attempt to wake up. 

-“What's that on his feet?” Hermione whispered. As she stood on her tiptoes and hurried into the room. 

-“A harp.” Draco replied, -“someone left it here and enchanted it to keep him asleep.”

-“He'll wake up the moment it stops playing for him.” Harry added, -“We have to hurry.” and pulled out a badly carved flute that Draco could only relate had been Hagrid's handiwork. 

-“Can you play at least?” The blond asked, the boy shook his head and Draco snorted in exasperation. -“Give me that.”

Harry blinked twice before nodding, and handed it to him with careful hands, Draco grimaced at how rough the flute felt, but brought it to his lips anyway and proceeded to play. 

Once the harmonious sound was produced, Fluffy's once disturbed and rapt figure began to relax, his half-open eyes began to close completely, his breathing became calmer, his growls ceased and his three Heads dropped instantly, producing a heavy sound and raising a cloud of dust in the process. 

-“Wow...” Both Harry and Hermione looked impressed. Ron stepped forward to duck and crawl carefully to the trapdoor, flinching as the Cerberus' hot, foul-smelling breath washed over his body. -“Keep playing... Keep playing.”

Draco allowed himself to continue, blowing and moving his fingers gracefully through the roughness of the flute's wood, establishing a repetitive, melodious rhythm. The sound that formed was not what Draco would have really wanted, but the imperfections of the flute took credit for that. He kept playing until Ron managed to reach the trapdoor. 

-“I think we can go through the trap door,” Ron whispered over Fluffy's breath. -“Do you want to go first, Hermione?”

The bushy-haired girl shook her head in response. -“No, I don't want to!” and folded her arms in a gesture of ultimatum. 

- “Well...” The red-haired boy cursed to himself, gritted his teeth and in a fit of bravery walked over Fluffy's paws, kneeling down and pulling the ring of the trapdoor, which lifted to reveal a thick darkness. 

-“What can you see” Hermione asked anxiously, Harry craned his neck in an attempt to make out, but was met with nothing but absolute darkness. 

-“Nothing...” Ron shook his head, -“There's no way down, just... Fall.” 

-“Well...” Harry spoke to himself. He gave a nod towards Draco, who was still playing the flute, and Hermione. He proceeded to move over to Ron's place, pushing him slightly away.

-“Are you sure about this?”  Ron questioned, but Harry only nodded in response. -“If anything happens to me, don't go any further, go to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore.” Ron hummed in affirmation. 

 The boy stared for a few seconds into the overwhelming darkness, gathering courage, he slipped and dropped until only his fingers held his body. -“I hope to see you in a few minutes...”

And he let go. 

For a few seconds absolutely nothing was heard, Draco restarted the sound of the melody while trying to sharpen his hearing, and, a couple of minutes later, he heard the sound of a sudden, rough, wet thump overhead. A soft and strange noise.

-“All right!” Hermione and Ron let out a sigh of relief that they had both been holding back. -“It's safe, it was a soft landing, you can jump!”

The three remaining children looked at each other and nodded, Ron jumped first, sliding down the trap door, Hermione waited until the same sound was heard and jumped as well.

Draco kept playing for a brief moment, once the sound came again, he slowly approached without stopping playing, walking until he was close enough to the trapdoor. And he jumped. 

The first instant the flute lifted from his lips, there was a deep, hoarse bark, something hollow and infernal, and then the Cerberus raised its paws in fury, closing the trapdoor suddenly with a stomp. 

Draco fell, feeling the sudden chill in the air devour him bit by bit until, in a sudden shift, his body bumped against something damp and fluffy, but suddenly soft. He sat up to try to observe, but it was useless. 

-“It's a plant.” Harry's voice echoed somewhere in the darkness. -“I think it's here to soften the fall.”

-“Good thing this plant is here.” Ron exclaimed, somewhere. 

The blond flinched at the sudden movement of something crawling, almost as if it were a snake.

-“Shit...” he said, tensing his body. 

-“You figured it out already?” Hermione said, apparently Draco had fallen close enough to her that she realized Draco had cursed. 

-“We have to get out of here...” The blond hissed as the strange ropes began to swirl more abruptly around them. 

-“Look!” Hermione jumped, crashing into a damp, scraping wall, the first instant her body fell, the plant began to reach out its vines to catch her, the girl struggled for a brief second until she let go. 

Draco followed her quickly, propelling his body until he was able to crash into the wall itself and sliding over it to the ground, he stumbled as one of the vines grabbed him hard by the ankle and dragged him across the scratchy floor, the blond pulled furiously and the vine snapped, immediately releasing his grip as well. 

Harry and Ron gasped in unison as they realized that their bodies had been completely enveloped. 

-“Are you okay?” Hermione asked, Draco hesitated for a moment but nodded. The girl then looked back in the direction of Ron and Harry's horrified voices. 

-“Stop moving!” Hermione ordered. -“This is the devil's snare!” 

-“Oh thank you, I'm so glad I know what it's called, what a great help Hermione!”  Ron growled, frantically moving in an attempt to free himself from the vines that were about to lock around his neck. 

- “Stop being an idiot and listen to her for once damn it!” Draco cursed as the figures of the two boys moved abruptly in various directions. 

-“Hush, I'm trying to remember...”

-“Not to roast- But I'm running out of air!” Harry gasped, the ropes and cords began to coil violently around his chest, compressing his ribs in an attempt to suffocate him. 

The vines descended abruptly, in an attempt to wrap Draco with this one, they quickly wrapped around his leg and pulled him suddenly causing him to lose his balance. 

-“Diffindo!” The magic crashed sharp against the violent ropes, there was the sound of slashing and the blond's body was released. 

- “Fire!” Draco shouted, Gasping as his body crashed to the ground, his wand released from his hand in the process. -“They're heat sensitive!”

-“Yes-yes, but where do I go from ah-”

-“WITH MAGIC!” Ron shouted, somehow managing to get his voice to filter through the vines. -“YOU'VE GONE MAD! WITH MAGIC! WITH MAGIC!”

Hermione fell back, seeming to ponder for a brief moment before she brought her hand to her forehead. -“of course...” 

The girl raised her wand and waved it, whispered something and, in the blink of an eye, white sparks flew from her wand and shot in the direction of the plant, bursting into a spectacle of blue flames that spread rapidly and its light shone throughout the room, Draco took advantage of the sudden clarity to spot his wand, which had rolled a few meters due to the fall, he threw himself in it's direction to retrieve it. 

The whole plant shook violently and fell away from the bodies of the two children that had been imprisoned, the children fell in a thud that raised a blizzard of dust and gasped for a long moment, both from the fall and from the air. 

-“Good thing they learned a lot in Herbology...” Harry gasped, devoting glances to both of them, then leaned against the wall and wiped the sweat from his face. 

-“Yeah...” Ron straightened up, holding his hands to his neck. -“You're right, it's a good thing you paid attention, mate.... I don't know how you didn't lose your head back there...”

- “Enough with the small talk.” Draco walked in Hermione's direction, giving her a friendly (real) pat on the shoulder, the girl flinched. -“We've got work to do.” buying that, without Hermione, both Harry and Ron would have definitely died. 

The blond pointed in the direction of a stone passageway. 

-“It's the only way...” Harry straightened up, letting go of the wall. 

The passageway was wide enough for everyone to have considerable clearance, compensating for the moldy and damp walls, whose leaks echoed above their footsteps. 

They walked for a while, until the silence was replaced by the sound of something metallic creaking,-“Do you hear that?...”

Draco sharpened his hearing, managing to perceive the sound of a repetitive, metallic clinking, as if hundreds of metal sheets were clashing together. 

-“Do you think it's a ghost?” 

But as they got closer, the sound sharpened, as if something was cutting through the air.

They stopped when they reached the end of the corridor, in front of them they could make out a room. Bright, with the ceiling curving towards the center above them, and flying around it were hundreds of glowing figures flying all over the place, on the side opposite them was an ancient looking wooden door. 

-“Avis?...” Draco thought, but tried to focus his eyes more, his eyes widening in astonishment when he noticed they weren't birds. 

-“What are those things?” Ron questioned. -“They'll attack us? If we cross over...”

-“Maybe...” Harry replied indifferently, -“Well.... They don't look so bad... I guess if they throw you all together.... Well, I guess I'll run-”

-“Wait-” Draco held up his hand, in an attempt to grab the boy who had recklessly darted into the unknown, Harry covered his face with his arms and ran across the room, expecting the sudden rebuke of hundreds of pecks. He stopped in front of the door, the shiny things in the air didn't seem to notice him and Harry moved the door handle, realizing it was locked. 

-“Idiot-” Draco caught up to him, crossing the room in fury. -“Will you stop throwing yourself into bloody danger just like that! You're going to get yourself killed!”

Harry cringed at the sudden display of anger, but nodded. 

Hermione and Ron followed him after a moment's hesitation, approaching the door to pull and yank hard on the handle, but it didn't work. 

-“Stop, none of that will work,” Draco said, putting a hand on Hermione to stop her from trying to waste her time using alohomora. 

Hermione sighed in defeat. -“And now?” Ron asked. 

The girl looking up at the ceiling, following the glowing figures fluttering and flying in every possible direction in no order. 

-“Take a closer look.” Draco between closed his eyes, encouraging everyone to do the same. -“They're not birds.”

-“You're right!” Ironically, Harry was the first to notice. -“They're not birds! They're... They're keys!” 

-"Keys?” Hermione and Ron repeated in unison. 

-“Yes!” Harry nodded frantically, looking in several directions. -“That must mean... Yes! Look over there! They're brooms! We have to get the key to the door!”

- “There are key beads!”Hermione exclaimed, Ron hummed as he examined the door lock. - “We need to look for a big, silver, antique key, it'll probably fit the handle!”

-“Right.” Draco nodded, walking in the direction of the brooms and hopping on, brushing away the sudden feeling of excitement that came to his mind when his memory recognized that he had ridden on a broom. -“Everyone get on one and search.”

They all did exactly as they were told. They each mounted and ascended upon the air, eventually spreading out across the room and lashing out at the glowing figures scattering the air. 

The blond repressed the sudden urge to.... Laugh, the feeling he was familiar with.... Adrenaline... It was like fun. 

The air cutting the sound in his ears, his locks moving with the current, his heart racing and his hands gripping the broom expertly, it was like his old matches.

He shook his head, determined not to want to remember anything to do with his past, or memories that would trigger that unwanted feeling of guilt, when Greg, Vincent, Pansy, Theo and Blace accompany him to practice and fly. 

This was no time to get nostalgic, much less a time to think about Theo. Nor Greg, nor fun. 

They each took to the air, moving with ruthless speed in the direction of the keys, but they were all elusive and scattered all around them, and every time one of them came close to getting a key, they would shoot up, scattering and joining another bunch of flying keys. 

But, after a couple of minutes, Harry shouted. -“That's it!” pointing in the direction of a blue glow floating in the middle of the room. -“There! It's... Blue! It's got a damaged wing!”

Ron lunged in the direction Harry pointed, but just before he could catch it, the key suddenly shot off in another direction, sending him crashing into the ceiling. 

-“We can't catch him like that!” Harry shouted in Draco's direction, the blond raised his wand and tried to summon -“Accio!” But the spell didn't work, instead of giving the desired effect. 

A bunch of keys from all directions rushed in his direction, the blond descended swiftly to the point of almost touching the ground, stopping to watch as the row of keys crashed violently against the wall behind him and scattered again in all directions. Some falling to the ground because their wings broke on impact. 

Draco growled under his breath, looked in the direction of the blue glow and raised his wand again. -“Arresto momentum!” the spell shot out forcefully from the tip of his wand, but the target was faster and dodged it with ease, he raised his wand and tried one, two, three more times, until he finally managed to hit it, but instead of hitting the key, instead the spell bounced off and crashed to the ground. 

-“It's not possible...”The blond cursed to himself, the key was enchanted-obviously, but even if Draco managed to think of an antienchantment, there would be others on this one that would take him forever to remove. 

He stepped towards Harry. Stopping when they were both hovering in the air side by side. -“There's no point.” He shook his head. -“I can't summon it, and it's enchanted so the spells won't affect it, we have no choice but to try and catch it ourselves.”

Harry, who seemed to half understand what he was saying, nodded and turned in the direction of Ron and Hermione. -“We have to corner it!” the boy shouted, not taking his eyes off the blue glow that hovered between them. -“Ron, you go up and don't let it go up, Hermione go down and don't let it go down, Draco will go left and I'll go right.”

The group settled down. Forming up in such a way that Hermione was almost touching the floor and Ron the ceiling, Draco was to the left of the key and Harry on the opposite side of it. 

-“NOW!”

Ron quickly swooped down, Hermione did the opposite and ascended vertically, the key dodged them both in a strange somersault and Harry took the opportunity to launch himself against it.

The key shot in the direction of Draco and tried to dodge it, but he was faster and blocked its path, the key tried to fly in the opposite direction again, but was overcome with Harry stretched over it with all his weight, crashing it against the wall in the process. 

Ron and Hermione screamed with joy, landing next to Harry, and Draco followed them. the boy ran to the door with the lead twisting, snapped it into the lock and turned it.

The door opened, and at the same instant the key shot out of Harry's hand, slowly returning to its original position, and all the keys that had fallen out shot back up again, all starting to fly in all directions.

Harry sighed, waiting for tacit confirmation from everyone else in the room, once he got it, he turned the handle to reveal the next room.

It was a total spectacle, Draco had never seen anything like it before. 

The next room was, to everyone's amazement, a Chess room, and Draco vaguely remembered hearing something about it, but nothing resembled the real thing. 

The four of them stood behind the black pieces, which were all tall and life-sized, as if they were real people, built entirely on stone and marble, but Draco could see how magic was leaking over some of the cracks, they had been animated with magic. 

Opposite them, were the white pieces, and unlike the others, none of these had faces. 

-“And this... Now what do we do?” Harry looked completely flabbergasted.

-“We have to play.” Ron answered seriously. -“We have to play to get across the room.” And he pointed in the direction of the other door that was on the other side of the room, being obstructed by the pieces on the opposite side of the board. 

-“But how?” Hermione exclaimed. Looking in Draco's direction, waiting for the blond to come up with a solution.

Draco hummed. -“As much as I hate to admit it, Weasley is right, We have to play, we have to take the place of a piece of the board to participate.”

Ron rolled his eyes arrogantly and walked over to one of the horses, touched the figure with his hand and suddenly the figure came alive in response. The knight riding turned to look at him and the horse whipped the ground with a stony stomp. 

-“We have to...? Um...we have to join you so we can cross?”

The black knight nodded, Ron turned in his direction. -“Well...”

-“So.” Draco began, -“You have to take the place of one of the pieces. Honestly, I've never been interested in chess enough to say I have complete control over it, I'm more of a betting and card player.” The blond sighed. 

-“You, it seems, are the most familiar with the game here, now, it's your turn.” Draco admitted reluctantly. 

Ron blinked in astonishment at Draco's words, stammered for a moment before nodding determinedly.

-“Well...” Ron thought for a moment, then continued. -“Malfoy,Harry, you take the place of the bishops, Hermione, you take the place of that rook.”

All three assisted. -“And what about you?”-Hermione asked.

-“I'll be a knight.” 

The pieces, who had overheard their conversation, moved, bishops, a knight and a rook turned their backs to the pieces and crawled off the board, leaving their spaces completely free.  Before completely retreating from the board, the bishops dropped their own swords, each possessed of an ancient rapier. The rook dropped a Roman gladius, which Hermione picked up instead. And the knight atop the horse handed Ron a longsword of war, which Ron received, before taking his place. 

Draco and Harry picked up the rapiers.  -“White always plays first in chess, Look!” Ron pointed in the direction of the opposite side of the board, where a white pawn moved forward.

-“I see it...” Draco reasoned to himself. While he wasn't sure whether or not this would carry weight in the next move, he was sure that putting them in Black's place had been something that the person responsible for this test had determined. 

If they couldn't move first, that meant they were obliged to try to overcome an advantage, the white pieces were magically destined to have every chance. But the black pieces could only follow orders determined by the challenger. 

No doubt this had all been planned by McGonagall.

-“Well...” Draco finally spoke. -“We can't waste any more time.”

He moved first to take the place of one of the bishops, Harry followed to take the place of the other, and Ron perched to take the position of the knight next to Harry, while Hermione moved to take the position of the rook that was passing the knight near Draco. 

And the blond gulped, knowing what it meant that he was now connected with events, and anticipated before a disastrous outcome, the possibility that things would end better than last time, or worse, or the same, were even, but the blond was sure that his new input in the timeline had caused a counterbalance that would make the situation end differently.

Now Ron would have to worry about not two, if not three more tokens besides himself, which meant that he would now have to guard both of his pins and not allow himself to use them as resources anymore knowing that both Harry and Draco took their place. 

 And Draco thought that maybe he purely could have occupied any other piece, but having two horses or two rooks overshadowed was just as bad, if not worse. And certainly the queen was too valuable a resource not to use, but also putting them at risk was worse. 

Last time, Ron had sacrificed himself by being a knight, but now, Draco couldn't be sure how this would end. 

But he couldn't take it back either, he had come too far, he had compromised his friendship with Greg, and his own safety, all for this, if something went wrong, he wouldn't let it for nothing.

-“Uh-” Hermione spoke first, clearing her throat nervously. -“This isn't like real magical chess...is it?”

Ron, blinking in her direction. -“Let me see...” Then he turned in the direction of one of the pawns. -“Hey you! Pawn to D five!” the pawn in front of the queen did as he was told, moving two squares to the front. 

The other white pawn, which was one square diagonally up, quickly pounced on him, drawing two bladed cutlasses, which he used to, without any mercy, pierce the black pawn's body. 

The four watched as the stone figure shattered into a thousand pieces, the white pawn dragged what was left off the board and returned, taking the black pawn's place this time. 

-“Well...” Ron turned to confront Hermione again. -“Apparently, yes...”

-“We don't have time to worry about that.” Draco offered Hermione, sounding as calm as possible, the girl looked at him for a second before nodding in understanding. 

-“Okay...” Ron swallowed in anticipation.

 -“Horse at F six!” The red-head directed. The knight that stood between Draco and Hermione leapt over the pawn in front of it, leaving a furious landing sound, and positioned itself one square to the right staying in front of the pawn that was guarding the blond. 

A white pawn, which was in front of the queen, moved two squares to the front, being just behind the pawn that had destroyed the black pawn earlier. 

Ron turned in the direction of Harry, whose knees were shaking, Draco could see Harry's fingers clutching tightly at the handle of the rapier he was holding, looking about to faint. 

-“Harry!” Ron called. -“Move diagonally four squares... to the left”

Harry swallowed, hesitated for a second, but then shook his head and did as he was told, Harry stopped one square away in front of a pawn. 

Immediately, the pawn next to the pawn Harry had hindered moved one square to the front, remaining one square diagonal to it. Harry gulped. 

-“He's going to take him out!” Hermione shouted, Draco quickly dulled her worries. -“Keep calm!” he shouted from the other side of the board. 

-“Go back one square!” Ron called urgently, and Harry didn't wait to be told twice, jumping gracelessly, landing on the previous square. 

-“Okay... That didn't work...” Ron blinked nervously. The pawn in front of the bishop that settled next to the White queen moved two squares to the front. 

-“Pawn to E six!” The pawn in front of the king moved one square to the front. But it was quickly eliminated by the pawn that had moved at the beginning of the game. 

-“Ron...” Hermione began to tremble. 

-“Easy.” The redhead offered as he pondered for a moment. Then he said. -“ Horse at C six” Ron held on tightly to the stone body so as not to fall to the ground, the knight landed one square away from the white pawn. 

Said pawn did not stop, it moved diagonally again, drawing its cutlasses again to destroy the black pawn that was guarding Draco, crawled over the remains and positioned itself in front of him. The blond gulped, somehow sensing that the faceless pawn managed to grin at him like a villain. 

-“Ron!” Hermione called again, this time shouting. 

-“Weasley!” Draco called. -“If you don't kill this bastard and I move, he's going to crown!”  and he was no fool, he may not have been familiar enough with chess, but he did know the tactics and the rules, the moves and the strategies. 

-“I know!” Ron exclaimed in exasperation. -“King to F seven!”

The king's figure, which had previously been completely still in place, held and drew a long, heavy-looking, anche-like mullioned sword, and with a clean swing, he lashed it against the pawn's body, slamming it into the ground with force and blasting it into a thousand pieces.

The force of his attack was such that one of the banners that received part of the impact ended up splitting it in two, its two halves scattered along with the debris of the pawn's body. 

Draco and Hermione brought their arms to their faces to protect themselves from the debris, both coughing at the cloud of dust and shook, for the force of the king's relentless blow was such that the board shook in aftershocks. 

Neither of the opponents kept mourning for the deceased pawn, one of the white bishops on the opposite side took the opportunity to move two squares diagonally. It was the same pawn that occupied the black squares of the board. 

But, Draco noticed a gap between the opposite squares, because he occupied the black squares, if he moved diagonally to the right four squares, the white king would be at his mercy. 

-“Malfoy!” Ron called from his place at the board. Draco interrupted. -“I see it!”

And without another word, the blond hurried, moving diagonally to the right, stopping when he occupied the place of the fourth square in column B of the board. Looking three squares diagonally to him at the figure of the king. 

All the white figures shook violently as the white king's crown threatened to fall and his body began to crack.

-“That was a check!” Ron exclaimed. Harry and Hermione jumped in place. -“How much longer can we keep this up?” Harry asked once he stopped jumping, clutching the sword in his hands.

The white knight in front of Draco moved quickly, jumping a diagonal square above him and obstructing his view of the king. 

-“Well...”Ron pondered for a moment, but his smile faded. -“Queen to E eight!” The queen moved one square to the left. Then the white king moved diagonally one square. 

-“Knight to D four!” The knight Ron was riding on moved in a leftward direction, stopping just in front of a pawn, Ron raised the sword the knight had given him, seeming to think for a short second, but then whipped it hard against the pawn's body, stabbing it in the head. 

The pawn quickly crumbled, and the knight crawled over to take its place. 

-“What are you doing!” Draco hissed, then froze as he realized Ron was surrounded, the white bishop occupying the black squares was diagonal to him, and the queen from the other side. 

It was White's turn, Draco closed his eyes in anticipation, but instead of a scream, he heard the sound of something heavy dragging on the floor, he opened his eyes again to see that the queen had moved only one square to the right. 

-"We can't go on like this...” The red-haired man affirmed, with a horrified expression on his face. 

-“What do you mean?” Harry seemed to notice the sudden change in mood. 

Ron didn't answer. -“Queen to E three!” the queen falled glided across the board swiftly, stopping just in front of the bishop that stood diagonal to Ron, The queen raised a schiavona and with one swift move, cut the figure of the white bishop, which split in two before the cut. 

Once the black queen took its place, the white queen moved, to execute it in the same way, the remains of the black queen were spaced by several more squares. 

Before any of them could question Ron's actions, the redhead again commanded. -“Hermione!” the girl startled. -"Take the place the queen was occupying before I moved her!”

Hermione stood for a second, trying to process it. -“What? She'll attack me!” she pointed in the direction of the queen. 

Ron shook his head. -“She won't! Trust me!”

The girl stood for another moment longer, but nodded anyway and with careful movements moved to take the place she had been ordered to. 

And, just as Ron said, the queen did not move, even though she had Hermione in front of her, instead, the horse that had previously hindered Draco moved to stand behind the queen, locking the white king in a protected formation. 

-“No...” the red-haired man put his hand to his head in a gesture of despair. -“That was what he wanted, that's why he didn't move the queen... We can't go on like this, if we don't checkmate him now, we'll run out of moves!”

-“And what do we do then!” Harry shouted from his place, looking at Ron with a pleading expression. 

Ron was silent for a long moment, then finally said. -“One of us has to sacrifice ourselves.”

-“What?!” Harry shouted. Hermione continued, -“But.... But if we do that...”

Ron was silent for a second, then exclaimed. -“I'll do it.”

The three remaining children in the room stiffened. -“NO!” Harry and Hermione shouted in unison. 

-“This is chess! You have to sacrifice yourself!” Ron shouted angrily. -“It's the only way we have to beat him!”

-“See!” Ron pointed to the empty black square behind the knight, -“That space over there, I can put Malfoy there and check, but the rook will eliminate him! And I can't send you to eliminate the queen, because the king will kill you!”

-“I can do it!” Hermione shouted from her place. But Ron frantically denied. -“NO! You're not understanding!"

-"Do you want to stop him or not?” Ron exclaimed. -“It's very likely that there's another test up ahead, we can't risk it, and we have to win in order to move forward!” The red-haired man raised his arms and pointed towards the door. -“Of the four of us, the least useful here is me! You've always been smarter, you should come in, and so should Malfoy!”

Hermione and Harry tried to argue, but Ron stopped them. -“That's right! Hermione, you always know what to do, and you're always right, always! And-and I'm sorry! I'm sorry for being a jerk and calling you a know-it-all when you were just trying to be nice to me!” And then he turned to look in Draco's direction. 

-“And Malfoy, I'm sorry too, all this time I behaved like a fool with you and Greg, and I.... I took on things I shouldn't have, I'm really sorry that because of me you guys had to put up with all that.” The blond's eyes widened in surprise. -“Of the three of us, you're the most prepared for this!”

-“Then sacrifice me!” Harry shouted from his place in fury. -“Of all the others I-”

-“No!” Ron interrupted him. -“Harry you're the only one who can stop it, you came once and you'll do it again!”

And before any of them could stop him, Ron ordered. -“Hey you! Horse to E four!” Then the horse behind Harry jumped over and around him and spun, landing in front of the queen. 

The White Queen raised her schiavona again and stabbed the horse's body, knocking the knight down in front of him and then threw her sword at him, shattering his body. The knight crumbled on top of him and the queen dragged the debris off the board and then took the knight's place, leaving a space between her and the white knight. 

-“It's settled.” Ron said. -“Of everyone here, I'm the least useful, I'm not as good at magic as any of you, I'm the one who must sacrifice myself.” 

Hermione and Harry babbled for a period of time before falling completely silent. Stony silence gripped the room for a moment, until finally, the two children resigned themselves and nodded to Ron. 

-“Well...”The red-haired man gulped. -“I'm going to eliminate the pawn in front of the king... When that happens, either the queen or the king will attack me...” Ron inhaled for a long moment. -“That will leave him unprotected. If it's the king... Then Hermione, you will eliminate the queen.”

Hermione processed Ron's request, then nodded. 

-“After that, Malfoy will take the opportunity to get behind the horse, and that will corner him.”

Draco nodded in response. -“And if the king doesn't attack you?”

-“Then you'll move two squares to the left. That will prevent the queen from trying to take her place again, the only other piece that can move is the white bishop, then Hermione will take advantage of that to eliminate the queen. The only other piece that can move from there is the other knight but it won't be enough and Harry will have to move one square to the right, and corner him.”

-“In both is check...” The blond reasoned. Ron took another breath and then nodded. 

-“Well...” The redhead looked in the direction of Harry and Hermione. -“Ready?”

The two kids nodded, and that was all the confirmation Ron needed. 

-“Horse to F three!”

Ron held on tightly so as not to fall off as the knight reared up, stomped furiously, and immediately made its way to the pawn in front of the king, its forelegs raised and then crushed the figure from the head, reducing it in an instant and landed imposingly in front of the king. 

For a short moment, nothing happened, neither the king nor the queen moved, seeming to debate about who would take the turn, but then the queen abruptly turned and moved to Ron. 

Ron closed his eyes in anticipation, and the queen without any sort of uncertainty raised her sword again, stabbing the horse and knocking Ron off balance in the process, she then raised her free arm to whip the boy hard, Ron let out a cry of pain and then fell to the ground instantly, the remains of the horse came crashing down on him. 

Hermione and Harry screamed in horror at the scene, a sea of emotions swept over the two children. When the queen was satisfied with her work, she dragged Ron's limp body off the board and returned to her place, as if nothing had happened. 

None of the three dared to move. -“Ron...” Harry called, but there was no response. Hermione followed after him on a second attempt. -“Ron!” The girl called again, but no luck either. 

Draco shook his head, suppressing any emotion that might distract him and moved down three squares to the left, stopping just diagonal to the queen, she turned to look at him with her faceless face, but did not move, instead, the other bishop who had stayed in her place moved one square until it was diagonal to him, threatening his presence. 

It was Hermione's turn to move, but she didn't. 

- “Granger!” Draco called out to her, but the girl didn't seem to hear him. The blond tried to do so again, but got no response. -“Hermione!”

Hermione turned around, reacting, -“You have to move!” The blond pointed in the direction of the queen. Hermione blinked at him with glassy eyes for a moment but managed to take in the words. 

Hermione then walked to the front and stopped one square behind the queen. She raised the gladius above her head and held it tightly in both hands, and with a shout, plunged the blade into the queen's lower back. The figure turned only her head to confront Hermione, but did nothing. 

Instead, Hermione watched with shocked eyes as the queen's figure began to crack, until her body fragmented completely, and suddenly she collapsed into thousands of shards of stone and marble, reduced to another pile of rubble and dust.

Hermione gasped, then kicked the debris out of place and took the space the late queen had occupied earlier. 

The other horse reared up, and the knight on top of it raised his sword in fury, leapt and landed in front of the girl, startling her and sending her tumbling. 

The horse stayed up but did nothing, it stopped in front of Hermione, with Draco right diagonally to it. The blond took the opportunity to take his turn at action, adjusted his grip on the rapier, raised it until it was level with his chest, and with a clean, silent motion, thrust it into the stone body. 

The horse made a movement with its head that Draco tried to relate to the pain, raising its forelegs so high that the knight on top of it was thrown off balance and fell, the force of the impact was enough to make its head crack.

The blond ripped the rapier from the horse's body, leaving a small hole in the stone, from which cracks spread and the horse shattered as well. The hind legs broke first, and with them everything else, until finally it was nothing but a pile of stone debris under the blond's feet. 

This brought the king back to Draco's mercy, all the white pieces still left on the board shook violently again, and the king's figure again began to crack even more, to the point where the sword he was holding came loose from his hands. 

With Hermione in front blocking the way, and Draco diagonal to him, the king had no choice but to retreat, ending up right at the point where he would be intercepted by Harry. 

-“My turn!” Harry exclaimed, moving one square to the right. -“Checkmate!” At that moment, all the pieces shook again, and the king completely dropped his crown this time, and they all watched the king crumble under his own instability in the process. 

They won, the remaining pieces on the board bowed in a farewell and moved off the board, leaving the path to the door completely clear. 

Hermione ran in the direction of Ron's limp body, letting out a scream and looking utterly horrified as a pool of blood formed under his head. 

Harry and Draco followed her, Draco knelt down beside the red-haired man's head, whose hair turned crimson red, and put his fingers on his neck, letting out a sigh of relief when he felt his pulse. 

-“He's fine.” Draco said, pulled out his wand and pointed it in the boy's direction, whispering, -“Arresto momentum...” the magic quickly rushed to wrap around the boy's body, and everyone paused to watch as the blood stopped gushing from Ron's head wound. 

-“That'll keep him from bleeding out for a while.” The blond offered, then raised his wand again and incanted -“Férula!” bandaging the boy's head. 

-"We can go now.” Draco put his wand back in his pocket again. Harry hesitated for a second, giving another desperate look at the boy's body and then moved to Draco's side. 

Hermione on the other hand didn't move at all. 

-“I can't leave...” She said. -“I have to stay here.”

Draco blinked at her. -“What? Granger, he'll be fine, now.”

-“No.” Hermione repeated again. Looking at him sternly. -“I can't leave him here. You guys have to go on, you can go on.”

-“It's okay.” Draco simply agreed. -“It's okay. Granger, it's okay, stay here and make sure he doesn't bleed out.”

Harry looked like he wanted to speak, but shut up immediately, Draco looked at her for a moment again, but hummed in understanding, and with a final nod, he opened the door and Harry and he left her behind. 

-“Do you think... Do you think they're all right?” Harry spoke, shattering the silence they had both sunk into as they walked down the passageway. -“They are.” Draco replied, his voice cracking a little in uncertainty. 

A part of him, the more selfish part of him, had felt.... Relieved, that it had been Ron who had ended up on the side of sacrifice again. Not Hermione, not Harry. And Draco also allowed himself to push away the thought that that would have been Greg's fate. 

-“What do you think we're left with?” the black-haired boy asked. 

Draco closed his eyes, taking a moment to reflect on recent events and then made a small sound of understanding. -“The devil's snare had to be Sprout's. The keys must have been Flitwick's doing and the chess set must have been, yes or yes it was McGonagall's doing.”

-“So that leaves Snape and Quirrel...” Harry put two fingers to his chin and lowered his head. 

Within a few more steps, they had both reached the door. Draco placed his hand on it, looking at Harry with Inquisitive eyes, the boy nodded to confirm that they could go on and Draco pushed the door open. 

Immediately an unpleasant smell rushed over them, cloying like rot and sour like filth, they both put their hand to their noses to protect their nostrils. 

They both stood completely still when, in front of them, the image of a Troll manifested itself, on the ground, larger and wider than the one that had slithered into the castle on Halloween. The Troll was unconscious and with a lump of dried blood and swollen skin on its head, along with a puddle that let off an iron scent. 

-“Looks like they beat us to the punch with this one.” Draco cleared his throat, -“Let's go.” Harry nodded enthusiastically, stepping over one of the Troll's legs. 

Without any hesitation, Draco opened the next door, and in front of them, a table with seven bottles of all sorts of sizes and colors were arranged in a row. 

-“This must be Snape's test...” Harry spoke, slamming the door behind him.

-“Then it must be about potions.” Draco allowed himself a cocky little grin. -“Just my type.”

The first instant the two passed through the threshold, a blaze of fire ignited behind them, purple fire. 

And at the same time, a curtain of black flames rose in front of them, trapping the two boys in the room. 

Draco rested his gaze on a roll of paper, which lay near the bottles and read it. 

<“Danger lies before you, while security is behind, two we want to help you, whichever one you find, one among us seven. It will let you overtake, another will take the one who drinks it backwards, and two contain only nettle wine.

Three are mortal, waiting and hiding in line. Choose, unless you want to stay forever, to help you in your choice, we give you four keys: 

First. No matter how clever the poison is at hiding, you will always find one on the left side of the nettle wine. 

Second. Different ones are at the extremes, but if you want to move forward, neither is your friend. 

Third. As you can see, we all have different sizes, neither the dwarf nor the giant one has death inside. 

Fourth. The second on the left and the second on the right are twins once you test them, even if they are different at first glance.”>

-“I see...”The blond grimaced, remembering his private lessons with Severus when he was younger.

-“So... What should we do?” The boy grimaced, trying to read the contents on the paper more closely, and held a finger to his head when he didn't understand any of it. 

Draco thought for a moment, carefully processing the contents of the sheet.

It was logical, but logic in this situation would get them nowhere, even if Hermione was no longer with them, he and Harry still counted as two people, and in the past Harry had faced Voldemort. 

That Snape would pulse a potion to make one of them back off meant that either they were hoping that only one would make it to the next stage and the other would stay behind, or that on the other hand someone would get hurt, one would go on and the other would come back to take care of this one. 

Which was the correct assumption, but now Hermione was with Ron, and at this point, neither of them had any need to back down. 

Draco let out a sigh of exasperation. 

-“We have to find the right potions.” He turned to confront Harry. -“There are seven bottles, three contain poison, two contain wine, one will take whoever drinks it to safety through black fire, and one through purple fire.”

-“And which one do we drink?” Harry asked without thinking, and then seemed to be struck by reality. -“That... That means one must go on and the other go back?”

-“Yes.” Draco replied simply. 

-“What...” Harry seemed to lose strength completely, and suddenly began to tremble. The alarms in Draco's mind began to ring. - “No... We can't, I...”

-“I can't do it.”

The blond stared in utter amazement at the boy's figure, Harry looked defeated. Tears began to fall down his cheeks, dragging dirt and dust with them and his knees became unable to hold his own. 

-“I can't, I can't do it!... I can't do it!”

The boy hugged himself, seeming completely unable to hold himself up, he frantically shifted on the spot and began to breathe frantically and heavily. 

-“I can't do this, Draco, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't-”

-“Potter!” Draco stopped the boy's disorganized movements. Putting his hands on his shoulders forcefully to steady him and shook him. -“Calm down!”

-"How the hell do you want me to calm down!” Harry shrieked. Tears falling like a faucet. - “That's easy for you to say, but not for me, none of this is!”

-“Of course it is!“ The blond hissed, tightening his grip on Harry's shoulders. -“You've done it all bloody year, Potter, the matches, the dragon, the forest, this! Everything!”

The boy said nothing for a second, so Draco continued. -“Listen, you can choose to leave, you understand.” Harry blinked at him in confusion, his green eyes moving to rest directly on his.

-“But nothing you do or choose can change that this is your destiny, not Granger's, not Weasley's, not mine, I shouldn't even be here in the first place. Your destiny, and you can choose to evade it, but sooner or later you will have to face it. You can leave, or you can keep going, we'll find a way across, and we're going to stop this! Now breathe!”

Harry began to follow him directions, trying to calm his breathing and closing his eyes to concentrate on the words of relief that began to escape Draco's lips. And while he didn't know what he was doing either, it seemed to work. 

-“It's okay...” Harry hiccupped, taking a moment to calm himself and then looked at Draco with determination. -“It's okay... What should we do?”

Draco looked from left to right at the row of potions in front of him, carefully looking over each one and analyzing the possibilities. 

The flames of fire rose with the same insistence, their voracity and strength not a bit since they first began. After another long moment, Draco turned in Harry's direction. 

-“That one,”said the blond, pointing in the direction of the smaller one. -“That one you see there, that's the one that will take us through the black fire.”

Harry looked at the tiny bottle, his eyes widening in panic. -“There's only enough here for one of us...”

- “No, there isn't.” Draco denied, then raised his wand and pointed. -“Engorgio!”

Harry blinked in amazement as magic burst from Draco's wand. A circle of sky blue light formed around the tip and shot in the direction of the tiny bottle, enveloping it, the object convulsed hard for a couple of seconds and began to enlarge in all directions becoming large enough to dwarf the others in size. 

- “Wow...” The black-haired man gasped in amazement. -“You did it!”

Draco swaggered at the sudden feeling of pride. -“You have all the time in the world to flatter me, now drink up!”

Harry used both hands to bring the bottle to his mouth, holding his nose and taking a few mindless gulps. He then handed the bottle to Draco and the blond did the same, leaving only a few drops of the contents inside. 

-“Well...” The blond turned in the direction of the flames in front of him, ran his fingers through them without any fear and smiled to himself as he saw how the black flames rising furiously didn't hurt him in the slightest. 

-“That's all,” he said, looked one last time at Harry, who gave him a final nod of reassurance, and with nothing more to lose, they both crossed the fire. 

- 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡.