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Chapter Text

Neville

Neville Longbottom has spent his entire life surrounded by whispers. Everywhere he went, he would hear the hushed whisper of ‘Are you sure he's Frank's?’ or ‘another pure Bloods squib’. After his Hogwarts letter, he thought the whisper would die down but they just got louder.

Housemates would wonder how he ended up in Gryffindor, Slytherin would whisper about his failures and the professor would search for hints of his parents in him. The whispers changed over the years as Neville grew into himself. Finally his housemates saw his courage, the Slytherins too cowardly to taunt him and it was bright as day who his parents were. That's why he was so fucking pissed when he woke up to himself in an empty Hogwarts train compartment staring at none other then Draco Lucious Malfoy.

Draco

Draco Malfoy was always surrounded by whispers. When he was a child it was ‘Lucious, he takes after you’ or ‘The shining example of pure blood hier’. As he got older, these whispers grew as he proved just how like he was to his father. But they evolved, gone where the empty words of praise replaced with the vicious, burning insults. Eventually they did stop or at least Draco wasn't around to hear them.

That's why he was so shocked to see himself staring at the boy wonder: Neville Frank Longbottom.

Neville

The two boys were just looking at each other, but that moment they, almost in sync, realised that they in fact were just boys. Neville's hands were too small, too soft. Though Draco looked largely the same but different, he was healthier. Neville never noticed it before but the few times that he was in contact with the ice prince, Malfoy looked like he was constantly on death's door.

If Neville had to guess he would place this Draco for a third year. Maybe younger? Though Draco had always been on the lanky side so even fourth year could be plausible but then again- “What the Fuck,” brought Neville out of his ramblings. In fairness if Neville hadn't been scared to death by his gran’s disapproval of swearing, he would be saying the same thing. Wait. “You're in the past too?” Neville politely asked with a slight twang of confusion. “ Oh fuck. This isn't a crazy hallucination unless my brain is making it look like you're real but why would it choose you?” Draco replied in a slightly disgusted manner. “Errrrr no. This is definitely real. I was… in the department of mystery and Hermione wanted some help or something and…” oh no. Neville had really messed up this time. If you compared Neville and Minister Fudge at this very minute, you would say Fudge was more competent. “And?” Draco said with audible urgency. “I’ve messed up. That was pure time dust I touched. Wasn't it? I've gone back in time,” a look of horror presented itself on Draco which quickly morphed into confusion. “Why am I here then?” Why is he here?

Before Neville could continue to ponder that question a trio of green clad children came knocking on the door. “Draco, there you are and whose tha- Neville SchlongBottom. I think yous've walked into the wrong compartment sweetheart,” a girl said with sickly sweet care. Neville remembered her as Pansy Parkison; she had left for Germany after the war. “Pansy, don't be mean. I'm sure Longbottom is just a little confused,’ Theodore Nott chimed in. He was a cruel boy, more so then Malfoy; where as Malfoy seemed to learn his mistakes, Nott only became more deranged in his pure blood ideals. He was the reason that Neville was here. His time turner brought him here. “Let’s go, Draco” a finale voice spoke up, Blaise Zabini. He had also left after the war, Italy, with his mother and newest step Dad. Neville never liked Blaise. “Yeah sure.” Malfoy replied. It was confident and calm, almost like a switch had been turned on but Neville could see the slight tremor to his hands.

The compartment suddenly turned cold and dark with an inescapable sense of guilt, a swirling monster of evil crept forward and moved its hands towards Malfoy. Malfoy, to Neville's surprise, fainted. It was comical in fact as Malfoy fell directly backwards into Zabini face but the humor quickly left Neville as he sprung into action.

“ Sirius Black Isn’t here.”

Chapter Text

Draco

Draco was well and truly panicking. He was in his 13 year old body staring at a bona-fide war hero and said war hero was meddling with time magic! Draco only noticed that more people had entered the compartment when a familiar voice spoke, “Let's go, Draco.” That silky calm voice set waves of panic and emotions running down his spine like a reopened wound. That was Blaise, he truly was in the past. Survive.

“Yeah sure,” Draco responded with all his training. He won't falter. A sudden rush of guilt filled his mind. Flashes of screams and laughter covered his visions. He could hear her. He could hear Bella. It was too much. His eyes couldn't latch on to anything, it was like he'd been dropped into a vat of ice or fire or acid. Draco couldn't tell, it was all too much. And then it wasn't.

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Draco, ever since he was young, liked chocolate. His mother would always bring him back chocolate from weeks long trips and the house elves would always sneak some to him after a particularly harsh punishment from his father and it was the only treat he could afford after the war. Maybe he just associated it with relief. But here half delirious; staring at a werewolf, who he was pretty sure was dead; handing him some chocolate; Draco couldn't have been disgusted by chocolate more. He was on the floor leaning against something soft and warm. “Hey lad. Don't go back to sleep,” professor Lupin said but Draco was barely listening; he was too exhausted. The professor looked around trying to gauge the surrounding student. “Mister,” he said with a question look at Blaise

“Zabini” the boy replied

“And” lupin carried on and shot a pointed look at Longbottom

“Longbottom”

“Ah, thank you. Could you two please make sure that this young lad gets to Popp- ah I meen madam Profrey. Carry him if you have too. Thank you. 10 House points to Gryffindor and Slytherin. I'll be checking on him later” He said as he got up and walked away. Draco fell asleep again.

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When he woke up again he was in the hospital wing. He wanted chocolate now. “Mister Malfoy,” it was Madam Pomfrey, wearing an uncharacteristically concerned expression. She didn't like Draco, probably because he had made her life difficult on multiple occasions in playing up injuries. I must look real rough. “Professor Lupin informed me of what happened,” she said as she handed him a bar of chocolate. “Mister Longbottom and Minister Zabini had to carry you in.” She was asking a question. She wanted to know why he had such an effect on him but let it be subtext to not look to be invasive, purebloods can act rashly when feeling vulnerable. Draco had to make sure his response was perfect.

“Who the fuck Let's a dementor near children,” perfect “Language,” The medi-witch responded with a lot of worry melting off her face but still a glint of curiosity left in her eyes. “Well Mister Malfoy, you seem right as rain. If you go now you can make it to the sorting ceremony.” Draco nodded fully knowing that he was going straight to the Slytherins dorms. “Good. Remus will walk you,” she said with barely contained glee. She really does hate me. A sudden rusle brought Draco attention to the chair beside him. In it was a man in his early thirties with sullen cheeks but bright hazel eyes, professor Remus Lupin. Draco's cheeks flushed as he had the sudden realisation that the irrational curiosity of the man he had in his youth was not just curiosity but an intense crush. “Let's get you up, Mister Malfoy,” the man said as he helped Draco to his feet.

The next few minutes were awkward to say the least. Madam Profrey said she would go to the feast later as she needed to pick up potions. So it was just Lupin and Draco walking in stilted silence. “Are you feeling better now Mister Malfoy,” breaking the silence. “Yep,” Draco replied quickly. Lupin didn't try to make conversation after that.

Eventually they did get to the hall, luckily before the first years, where Draco did the walk of shame to the Slytherin table. He could sense the whisper and stares, especially from his housemates but before they could inquire the sorting began. It was a good time to think. How on earth was he in the past? Time magic was weak at the best and dangerous at the worst. He had never heard of anyone going this far back before, let alone accidentally. It wasn't even his accident. This whole situation didn't make sense. Throughout the whole feast Draco went back and forth between his mental library. Nothing. During the walk to the dorms. Draco was trying some arithmancy to try to gain any knowledge. It just confused him more. He even thought about trying divination when he entered the common room.

“Hey Draco you ok?” It was Blaise. They're NOT you friends, remember. Draco nodded. There was a time where he thought that Blaise and Pansy were his friends. True friends. He even let out hope when they had abandoned him; he thought maybe they were just looking out for themselves. But it all came crashing down eventually. He had found out the truth.

“Wow Draco. Those dementors really scared you. You haven't said a word the whole night. Do you want me to tuck you in? Kiss you good night. You know, if you ask nicely I’ll let you sleep in my bed” a tall boy, taller than Draco, said dripping with sarcasm, Theodore Nott. Draco and Nott hated each other. They took every opportunity to ridicule one another and take joy in the others pain, or at least one of them did. “Fuck off, Nott,” Draco said walking towards his bed. Maybe he'll have more ideas in the morning. “That wasn't very polite princess,” He had forgotten how much he hated Theodore Nott.

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Neville

Having Draco Malfoy lay in lap was an experience he thought he'd never have. After the dementors left, Neville went straight to Malfoy and helped him off Zabini. Neville was kind-hearted and didn't want to just chuck him on the floor so he did the logical thing and sat down propping Malfoy's head on his thigh. Blaise Zabini quickly recovered and rose to check on Malfoy but Professor Lupin arrived.

There was a look of panic painted clearly across his face. It took several minutes for Draco to wake up again then when he finally did the professor ordered him and Zabini to take him to Profrey. Malfoy then fell asleep. Carrying him was an ordeal. Zabini wanted to do it himself but obviously didn't know how. “Carry him princess style,” Nott chimed in. It wasn't a bad idea. So Neville grabbed onto Draco and hosted him. He was lighter than Neville expected. Too light. He, with Malfoy in his arms and Blaise closely following, walked to the carriages. He could see the thestral now.

Neville sat in silence as he tried not to listen to the Slytherins' quite frankly disturbing conversations. They seemed to be discussing muggle borns and their place in society. Did they have no shame? When they arrived at Hogwarts Zabini helped Neville to lift Malfoy off the carriage. He heard some whispers around him. Particularly from the Gryffindors. When they got to Madam Promfrey, she started fussing immediately. “I don't know why Remus didn't just take him himself. Mister Zabini and Mister Longbottom you may leave…” Neville practically bolted whereas Zabini was more reluctant.

“Hey Neville. What happened to Malfoy?” Harry said, patting at the empty space in front of him. Guess he was joining the golden trio. “A dementor attacked him,” that gave a snort to Ron “probably thought he was a death eater,” “Ronald!” Hermione interjected. The three carried on discussing Malfoy effectively ignoring Neville. He chanced a look at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was walking towards his friends. Small chatters filled the hall speculating on Malfoy.

Once Neville made it to his dorm. He was exhausted. He needed to sleep. But it didn't come; he lay there staring at curtains well through the night. He just had too many thoughts. Eventually he did fall asleep and thankfully it was dreamless. Shamus and Dean invited him to have breakfast which he accepted. He was spreading jam on his toast when a paper bird landed in front of him. He unwrapped it and read:

             -Meet me in the Room of Requirement. 8             o’clock

                                                                                   D-

Chapter Text

Neville

“Oi. Neville what you got there,” Seamus Finnigan said, drawing the attention of the surrounding Gryffindor at breakfast.
“None of your business,” Neville responded. This was a shock to almost everyone on the table. Neville was known for his mild manners and his avoidance for conflict. Of course the response wasn't rude in itself but it was when it came out of the 13 year old Longbottom heir it was hearing your grandmother swear for the first time. “What's got you knickers in a twist,” Goerge or was it Fred said.
“Oo I know. Our little Neville got himself a girlfriend,” the other twin responded with an amused smile . Neville was going to answer back when a scathing girl's voice was heard across the hall.

“Ooo Potter be careful you don't faint.” The jive was complemented by a poor rendition of a dementor. The Slytherins surrounding her giggled except for Malfoy who was staring directly at Neville before turning his head and returning back to his breakfast. Did she already forget that Malfoy fainted too?

Harry sat down next to Goerge(?). “Pay them no mind. Anyway I heard that Malfoy passed out. much worse than you plus had to go to Madam Pomfrey,” Goerge(?) said.
“Yeah, I know. Neville told me,” Harry said in a resigned tone. Both twins turned at that and stared directly at Neville.
“Wait. It was you who carried him!” both said with quite frankly insulting a level of skepticism.
“Yeah and?”
“Ha ha that's hilarious,” one said
“Truly is, dear brother,” the other chimed. “Did he cry?”
“Did he call out for his daddy?”
“Did he start…” Neville had enough. “Could you two stop,” Malfoy was a foul person, yes, but it was just plain wrong to see a dementor attacked as funny. “It wasn't very pleasant to watch. In fact it was pretty horrifying, I thought he was going to die.” Neville might have exaggerated the last bit but he wanted to get the point across. Both twins looked back with horror and regret and so did the golden trio.
“Oh. Was it that bad?” responded one of the twins in a quiet tone. Neville thought that they were trying to formulate an apology but he really didn't care. It wasn't him they insulted. While standing up, Neville said “I'm off to divinatio,” and then
walked straight out of the hall leaving a gaggle of confused Gryffindor.

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“You Boy, Is your grandmother well?”
Neville had forgotten just how much he hated divination. He had chosen it because well it looked like the easiest and he was pretty sure he'd fail anything else. But with the first words implying that his only sane family left is dying left Neville with little hope of liking the subject.
“Yes,” Neville replied.
“I wouldn't be so sure,” Professor Trawlany rattled off some more useless predictions and told everyone to get into pairs. This time Neville didn't even break any China.

“You're gonna suffer… but ya gonna be happy about it,” maybe Ron was a seer. Trelawny walked up to Harry and started to make some uncomfortably correct predictions; even the Grim was true in some sense. Harry did die. Neville never got to grips with that particular topic. He could never understand how willing Harry was to die. Neville was a fighter and he would fight to the very end. But that did bring an interesting thought to Neville's head. Trawlany had been correct about some things could she be correct about more?

“End of class.”

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The rest of the day followed quickly. He had transfiguration, where McGonagall put the Grim worry to rest and the golden trio fighting about something or other. Neville thinks his day has gone pretty well, but there was still one thing left on his agenda. He had a meeting to catch.

Chapter Text

Draco

The last 24 hours had been interesting to say the least. From the moment Draco woke up he had been reminded of his lack of control. At 4 am, he had been rudely awakened by his internal clock and withdrawal symptoms, which Draco was choosing to ignore. The silence forced him to think. Draco had loosely accepted the fact that he was in the past although he was in a state of confusion.

He thought that, if a ministry worker came knocking at his door telling him all his sins had been forgiven and forgotten, he would jump at the chance to go back to his old life. But now lying in an uncomfortably soft bed where all his sins had not only been forgotten but never happened, he isn't so sure. He's fully aware this is what he's been praying for. He should be happy, but all he feels is grief. Grief for the life he's built. Grief that he'll never be free again.

At some point Draco decides that laying in bed isn't going to change things. For a brief second, he thought about running to the muggle world, getting the qualifications he was sorely lacking and completely ignoring the war. He would have magic and be able to live in freedom. It would be his heaven. Eventually, he knew it would be tainted with guilt, a prophet would arrive with a tapestry of all the monstrosity he be
allowing to happen . Or maybe Longbottom would hunt him down, from what Draco had heard he had become quite the proficient auror. Draco supposed it was in his blood. Alice and Frank Longbottom were brilliant aurors, strong enough to face the cruciatus. Draco knew better than most just how much strength that took.

Taking a piece of parchment and quill, Draco thought about what he should write. He needed to speak with Longbottom and find out what exactly happened. Maybe they could go back. He could get his life back. But first the letter. Something short. The Room of Requirement should be neutral ground plus no one else knew how to enter it. All he had to do was post it; it was still 5 am so none of his classmates were awake and a morning walk might do him good. Wrapping up in his winter uniform Draco left to go to the owlery.

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When he got there, he was hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia. It must've been fifth year since he's really been there, back when he would write letters to his parents. Of course the only thing he got back was a box of chocolates obviously sent by the house elves with the occasional letter but still it made him warm inside. It also made him long, not for his parents but rather the idea of home. He did have a home and it was in the muggle world. He can't forget that. As soon as he meets up with Longbottom, he's going to go back to his life and never ever take for granted the home he made. But back on track, he called on one of the Hogwats owls and attached the letter to his foot. It owl was a meek bird but as soon as Draco whispered “Neville Longbottom, Third Year, Gryffindor,” it was off with a swift flap.

“Malfoy. Who are you sending a letter to with a Hogwarts owl,” Draco shot round as voice echoed across the owlery. It was Cassius Warrington, he was a large boy, he kind of reminded Draco of the comic book character his flatmate liked: Superboy? Stupendous man? The one in red and blue tights. From what Draco remembered, Warrington was a pureblood through and through. He had replaced Pucey as chaser, this year in fact, and joined the inquisitorial Squad. Draco was not aware if he became a death eater or not but it wouldn't surprise him.
“None of your fucking business Warrington,” Draco said a little harsher then intending. Warrington only snorted at that. That was not what he thought he do.

“Chill Malfoy, I was only concerned for you. It was dark and Hogwarts can be a little dangerous for a thirdy like you” he responded but lacked all the bite that should have accompanied those words.
“Fuck off,” Draco said with a slight giggle. It was bizarre, it was like talking to one of his muggle friends. When he had joined the muggle world he was shocked to learn his humor was shit and underdeveloped or at least compared to everyone else. Everyone there seemed to joke and make fun of each other without really meaning it. In the wizarding world, or at least pureblood society, you meant what you said. If you swore at someone, it could be grounds for a blood feud and it was never done to a friend. But looking into Warrington's eyes, he saw something akin to shock probably from the fact that Draco actually got the joke.

“You wound me,” he said with fake hurt. “any ways you should probably run along before your dorm mates wake up.” He said. Draco then realized the sun was coming and then to a piece of parchment in the other boy’s hand. They must have bump into each other and Warrington took advantage of the situation to make a joke that would probably go over most purebloods heads.
“ Oh Thanks, bye then Cassi,” Draco said without really thinking as he left the owlery. Maybe they would have been friends in another life.

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Draco entered the common room just before Pansy Parkison came down. She was accompanied by the Greengrass siblings and Bulstrode. “Draco, you're up early. We should have breakfast together, just the two of us” Pansy said, effectively shutting down the conversation the girls were having. Before Draco could hurt feelings, the rest of the Slytherin boys came down. Blasie looked around in cool manner before stopping and locking eyes with Draco. Blaise whent to open his mouth but Greg beat him to it. “Draco. We thought you got kidnapped,”
“Only Goyle and Crabbe thought that. Me Blaise actually used our brains and assumed you went down early,” Nott said.

“Hey!” Vince said. Oh Vince. Draco had watched Vinced die to his own spell. It was Draco's fault though, deep down he knew that he'd never be able to forgive himself for that. Greg and Vince hadn't exactly been his friends, more bodyguards that mildly annoyed him. But looking at them now , they were round and soft in a sweet way. It broke Draco. They looked like puppies, the ones his neighbours showed him last week. How could these boys be used to do such atrocities and die for them.
“Ugh. Fine let's go down to breakfast,” Pansy said to nobody in particular, obviously because the chance to woo Draco had been stolen.

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They made there way to the great hall as a group and Theo and Pansy took no time in tormenting Potter. It would of been funny to young Draco but now if he was honest Dementor scared him, badly. Not only because he had to spend 2 month with them awaiting his trial but more to the point he never learnt the patronous charm. Draco would try to argue it was because he never got the chance but deep down he knew why. Languishing in self pity Draco almost missed Longbottom. He had opend the letter but there was something wrong with him. There was something sinister behind the soft golden eyes. It wasn't him of course it was something else. Like oil in honey.
“Draco pass the salt,” Blaise lightly tap him.
“Sure,” he replied rather distractavely
“Hey Draco,” Blaised whispered in soft tone but before he could continue a flurry of black robes came into view.
“Mister Malfoy, quick word.” His God Father said.

He nodded his head as he stood up.

God Father is a stretch. Sure it was correct term legally but Draco had never known the man. The peak of the relationship was when they had a joint effort to bully Potter. He hadn't even gone to his funeral, not like he had the choice, again azkaban, but his point still stands.

“I've been informed that you were attacked by dementor.” He said cooly “I see you've made a full recovery.” Draco had forgotten how sarcastic this man was. “I'll get to the point. I don't want you any were near Lupin,” what? Draco had known about the weird rivalry that Snape and Lupin had but this was a bit much.
“OK?” Draco responded. He'd hoped the Sanpe would pick up on his confusion, you know seeing as he's a natural legitimant but he just had a mild look of accomplishment plasterd on his face and with that he left.

Like Draco had said God Father was a stretch.

When he had returned to Slytherin table Longbottom was no where in sight. He finished his piece of toast and headed of to runes with Blaise.

The Day had carried on pretty simply. He had answered every question perfectly so did Granger. Honestly that girl was every where, did she have time turner or something?

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When he has returned to the common room, he had the sudden relistion that he had now way realistically to get out. All the other Slytherins would get suspicious the moment he turned to leave. He thought about saying he was owling his parents but Pansy insist on going. He just had to make a break for. Run like the wind. Or be like James Bond and sneak out all spy like. He should really became an animagus, apparently Blacks have a skill for it. He stood up from the little corner he had commandeered and pretended to get a book but half way to the exist Nott, Pansy, Blaise and a fair few other Slytherin waved him over to sit with them. He was screwed.

“Yo Malfoy, thanks for agreeing to help me to do some quidich drills,” Warrington said a little louder then strictly nescairrly as he steered them both to the doors.

A little down the hall Warrington started conversation “Saw you needed a little help escaping there.” He really was that comic character. “Thank you Warrington”
“No Cassi?” He said. Just then Draco realised his mistake, in muggle world he was so used to nicknames but purebloods had rules he needed to abide by. To assume such familiarity was highly inappropriate. Not to mention the way he he acted. Like he was his mate?! Now he was thinking about, it he had been pretty rude to Nott as well.
“Please accept my apology, I wasn't think-”
“No it's fine,” he interjected “I like it,” he said the last bit shyly. A wave of relief flooded Draco.
“Oh, in that case, Thanks Cassi.” Draco said with a smile and Cassi responded with one in turn. Draco was probably the only person to ever call him Cassi. “ And if you need help with drills for real just ask but only if you call me Draco,” he said extending a arm for a shake.
“Absolutely,” Cassi mirrored the action. “And if you need help escaping just ask, Draco,” he said with a smile. They shook to seal the deal. With that draco waved and was on his way to the seventh floor.

Chapter Text

Neville

Neville entered a familiar corridor with a familiar painting. He walked 3 times back and forth not really thinking of anything in particular other than Malfoy. It was 8:06 and he assumed the other boy was already there. The doors opened and Neville stepped inside.

“You're late,” Malfoy said with a heavy tone of annoyance. He was sitting in a beat up arm chair, that any Malfoy would rather die than be seen in. Well any other then this Malfoy apparently. Neville glossed over the other boy’s words in favor of the Room. It was like ,well, like a living room. It was small, definitely not pushing the boundaries of the ROR abilities, but it was cozy. A coziness he's never felt before in a pureblood house. A bookshelf lined one wall and the adjacent wall was covered in strangely still posters.

“Well?” the blond words brought him back. Neville needed to be direct. His auror training would be useful.

“Hermione Granger and I had caught one of your friends, Theodore Nott,” Neville emphased his disgust for Nott, “He was in possession on a time turner, from what we gathered, he wanted to bring Voldermort back by using an experimental time turner” he paused to look at Malfoy. He wasn't shocked like Neville expected him to be but there was unease in his eyes. “He was easily detained but the time turner was a different story. Mione wanted to study it, to make sure it couldn't be recreated. She took it apart and it was cheaply made… well umm,” he trailed off sheepishly “ I um… tripped into the table with the time dust,” Neville finished as he looked up to start directly into grey eyes.
“You're telling me, you snorted time dust on accident,” the other boy looked at him. For 1 second, 2 second, 3 seconds “OK so you're an idiot. But that doesn't explain why I'm here,” Malfoy looked back expectantly.

Neville honestly didn't have an answer to that. It made sense why he was here but Malfoy? “Unless you ran into Nott, I have no idea,” he responded. Malfoy laughed an empty laugh, from all the years Nevillle has heard the boy laugh, oh how he heard his laughter, this was different, unsettling. It made his ears ring and mind race, it wasn't particularly different from when Malfoy was a child but Neville soon came to the realization that this was the first time he's heard him laugh in years, even a fake one. Not since they were 16.

“It really doesn't matter how we got here. We just need to work out how to get back.” Malfoy responded with a tremble of his hands. Neville, to his shock, hadn't thought of that. From the moment he woke up on the train, he knew there wouldn't be a way back. Besides, who would throw away this opportunity?
“There isn't a way back,” he said whilst catching a shift in Malfoy posture. “We’re not going back,” Malfoy stood up in a quick fluid motion and shortened the distance between them.
“What do you mean,” his eyes were stormy, piercing straight into Neville's eyes. Lagillmancy. Neville tried to fight back, put a wall back but those sea of grey drowned him and made him unable to swim. Malfoy pulled back. “What the fuck is wrong with you. You want us to.. to … fight him?” Malfoy's voice screeched. It was broken and Neville wouldn't be lying if this was the most emotions he ever heard from the boy. “Saint Potter could barely do it last time. And you want us to take a crack at it? The stupid Malfoy heir and the fuck up Longbottom?” his eyes were welling up, “ Are you fucking mad! And what the fuck is wrong with your memory?” Malfoy finally said before running off.

“Well that was a spectacle.” Neville said with so much anger he nearly chocked on it. How dare he! First he invade his mind and than insults him. How could he not see the opportunity they had? Neville was sure that Malfoy regretted the past so why did he want go back. He was so selfish! Neville had seen every one he had loved loose something. His need to fix that was overwhelming. He couldn't bare to even entertain the idea of going back to his past. The future where they won the war but lost every battle. No. Neville wouldn't allow that. He wouldn't allow the war to even start.

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Draco

That oil hit him like ice and repeld him away.

He ran and ran. His heart felt like it was imploding and his vision became so blurry that he didn't spot a small little Ravenclaw until it was too late and he was in a pile on the floor. The girl clad in blue with no shoes faced him on the floor. She had a dreamy expression when she opened her mouth, “oh dear, you seemed to have a great deal of wrackspurts, you shoul-” no, no, no. Draco couldn't believe it. He couldn't deal with her now. Her face, so young, brought back memories and made sick to his core. Before she could continue, Draco stood up and continued to run. He was running for a few minutes until he made his way to a familiar girls bathroom and collapsed in one of the stalls.

His brain went slack as he started to dry heave. He couldn't contain it anymore, as he weep. Weep like he did the last time he was there. Except this time he was alone and no one would stop him. It was lethargic in a way.

The first time Draco really got the chance to really cry was after the war. It was in a little dingy studio apartment on the coast. With barely enough money to pay his rent and with his electricity off, all he did was cry and sleep. He didn't have a job and he was quickly running out of the money the ministry gave him to “start him off”. In fact he only £60.22 left the rest was used to pay his first month of rent. He wanted to believe that the ministry gave him so little because they didn't understand the value of muggle money but the better part of him knew it was because they wanted him to die. Even Saint Potter couldn't save him.

Draco threw up.

After a few moments and when his vision cleared he went to the sink to wash his mouth out. He knew it was a very muggle thing to do as there was a spell for it but it was comforting.

He had seen into the other boy's mind when the oil just got too strong to ignore. He saw Longbottom’s plans to save everyone, they weren't bad but they were definitely optimistic and those gaps of memories sent chills through him. It was unnatural

He did feel embarrassed now. He honestly didn't know why he reacted that way. Logically Draco knew he couldn't go back to the future. He should have known that from the moment he was in that train compartment but for some reason he ignored his brain. He would apologize to Longbottom later. He was right after all. Why is it that Gryffindor are always right?

He was washing his hands when he noticed how unmarked they were. Not even the faintest outline of his dark mark. A sense of relief filled Draco like he had just stepped out of a smoke filled room. He really did need to apologise to Longbottom. Or at least talk. Maybe he could asked about those gaps in memories. They can't of been oculamenced off. Maybe it was warded? No, it was none of his business and Longbottom wouldn't want him asking about. He'll just languish in curiosity.

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Fortunately he had arrived before Cassi did and said he got bored before going upstairs. He was laying in his bed when a flash of blond entered his mind.

                                   Luna

Chapter Text

Neville

When Neville woke up, the Gryffindor dorm room had been a mess. Apparently teenage boys lacked organizational skills; the Hogwarts house elves were truly magic's greatest work ¹.
“Oi Neville, we're going to be late for care of Magical Creatures if you don't get off your arse!” Seamus said, poking his head through Nevills curtains. Whilst getting ready, Neville listened to the boys predictions of the class.
“I think Hagrid gonna be a great professor,” Harry had started
“Same but I'm a bit concerned. Did you see the books he’s given you guys?” Dean responded and was met with a dirty glare from Ron and Harry. Sensing an argument might occur he turned around to pack his bag.² Dean Thomas had chosen not to do Care Of Magical Creature in favor of muggle studies and ancient runes and Neville resented him for that. Why was everyone smarter than him? It wasn't like he hated COMC but… no he did hate COMC. The first lesson he had he was attacked by his own textbook.

It didn't get better.

He vowed that he would not only do well but excel this time around, as he made his way to breakfast. It seemed that Slytherin got there much earlier as they were making their way out. Malfoy caught Neville’s eyes before he quickened his pace which left the other Slytherin to confusedly catch up to him.

It made Neville's blood boil. For all the people he could be stuck in the past with, Why did it have to be Malfoy? At least Neville was pretty sure the boy wouldn't go to the dark side. He was 90% sure. A solid 80. No less than 75 % sure. OK the next time he sees Malfoy he's going to make him do an unbreakable vow.

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Hagrid was surprisingly thriving. Now Neville did love Hagrid and respected him a great deal but privately thought that he wasn't the best fit to be a teacher. Hagrid, bless his heart, always had something else that distracted him. Third year: Malfoy, forth: Rita Skeeter, fith: Umbridge, sixth: he wasn't even there and seventh: well Deatheaters. So with Malfoy not really saying anything, Hagrid was free to teach. Plus he hadn't even gotten eaten by that book yet. When Hagrid had relised that only Neville and Malfoy had managed to open their books, he started to explain that they needed to stroke the spine when a boy spoke up.

³“Merlin, this place has gone to the dogs,” Neville wiped around. How could Malfoy say such a thin- wait. The voice was far too gravely to be the ice-like voice of Malfoy. Nott.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Potter said, obviously not processing the fact it was Nott. Malfoy gave a sort of offended look that was actually kinda of amusing because it was so out of place on Malfoy.

“Oo Potter, those dementors must of done your head in. Your hearings gone,” Parkison said in a giggle. Again did they forget Malfoy was attacked also?
“Piss of Parkinson,” Ron interjected
“Dementor! Dementor!” Not shouted and Harry turned his head so quickly that he heard a crack.
“Ahha Potter, maybe you should go to Promfrey,” Nott continued to taunt whilst the rest of the Slytherin laughed (excluding Malfoy). Wow all Slytherin are bullying little rats even without Malfoy encouragement.
“Ten points from Slytherin. Dementors are no laughing matter,” Hagrid jumped in.
“You would know, wouldn't you,” Nott said just quite enough that Hagris wouldn't hear but the students would. Unsurprisingly, Harry went to fight but Hermione, (when did she get here?) stop him
“Harry, don't.”
But what was surprising was the clear look of disgust painted across Malfoy's face. Neville supposed he did have a bad experience with them, after all he spent 2 months at Azkaban.

“Alright boys and girls,” Hagrid started, “today I've prepared a really treat! So-”
He was interrupted by a girl’s screech. Lavender brown pointed at the paddock.
“Hippogriphs,” mione said loudly.
“Yes, well done Her-Miss Granger, 5 points to Gryffindor,” he said with a wide smile. Hagrid carried on with the lesson explaining how to treat them with respect. Like last time Harry had volunteered and had a little fly. Harry was really born to shine, wasn't he? “Saint Potter,” Neville whispered to himself.

From what Neville had remembered, he hadn't been able to even garner his Hippogriphs respect and Malfoy had completely messed up and got himself sliced. Neville turned to look at the boy. Malfoy looked, well, delicate. It was as if he was sculpted of snow and ice. He had no idea how he'd become a death eater looking at him now. Malfoy was a child. A cruel one but a child nonetheless. Neville had let his mind wander, gazing at the boy when a gravelly voice rang out.
“Ahh,” Nott was on the floor with a small gash across his forearm.

Nothing can go right, can it?

Malfoy calmly walked towards Nott before kneeling next to him and enchanting a spell. It was a simple healing spell, one even Neville could do with his limited knowledge but Malfoy did it wandlessly. And wasn't that scary. Nott clung on to Malfoy ,like a child would to their mother, to the blond utter embarrassment. His facial features were a strange cross of concern and utter discomfort which amused Neville to no end.
Hagrid ran to the two boys with growing horror but his face quickly melted into confusion.
“My family are good at medical charms,” Malfoy said in a condescending tone. Neville had never heard of a Malfoy even working in the medical field let alone have blood magic for it.
“Ah, right then, umm would ya take Mister Nott to Madam Promfrey just ya know um”
“Yes professor,” Malfoy said with little argument before heading off with Nott to the castle. The rest of the Slytherin stared daggers at Hagrid.

“You think Malfoy planned that, to ya know get Hagrid in trouble,” Ron speculated. Harry vehemently agreed.
“What did Malfoy mean that his family was good at it?” Hermione asked, looking confused.
“Nout-” Ron started to buy Neville cut him.
“Blood magic, it's a pureblood thing,” with Hermione still looking confused, Neville continued. “Purebloods kinda cultivate their magic and pass it onto their children. For example the Potters,” Neville said looking at Harry, “are all good at offensive spells whilst a family like mine are good at defensive spells,” Neville. Lavender who apparently had been listening chimed in “my family is known for their textile charms.” Hermione looked greatly discomforted by that.
“Are you sure it's a real Neville?” She asked.
“Of course it is sweetheart,” Parkinson appeared out of nowhere, “ That's why purebloods are so superior to mudbloods,” she added cruelly. Hermione recoiled at that and both Ron and Harry got ready for a punch but hesitated at the fact Parkinson was a girl.
“Crabbe, Goyle let's go and check on Theo. I can't stand to be near these blood traitors anymore.” She said and left.

“That slimy Little snake,” Ron had said.
“Don't listen to her,” Harry had said.
“She's wrong you know,” Neville had said quickly, feeling slightly guilty he had caused Hermione discomfort, “though Purebloods may have speciality but they tend to be a lot weaker in other areas, that's why I can't do potions. Plus Muggleborns magic tends to be a lot stronger and more flexible,” he finished off with a smile. That did make Hermione relaxed and even have a small smile of her own.
“Blood magic is bull if you ask me” Ron finished off.

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Neville had tried to look for Malfoy the rest of the day he really did but everywhere the blond went he was followed by a gaggle of Slytherins. He was just going to have to wait until Malfoy grew up and contacted him.

Draco

“Ahhhhh, it hurts. Just kill me,” Nott growled into the void. Draco had been forced to stay beside the boy for the entirety of lunch as he was the only thing keeping Theo calm. Nevermind that he had already been healed. Draco sincerely hoped he hadn't been as dramatic as Theo was being now. It reminded him of the soap dramas that Alex liked to watch. Draco was slightly miffed that he'll have to wait at least 7 years to watch the new series of Doctor Who. At least he could watch the lost episode. Everything had its silver linings.
“Draco,” Blaise had shown up about 10 minutes ago with a ham sandwich. ⁴ “we should go to arithmancy,”
“NooooOo don't leave me,” Nott whined.
“Mr Nott, I have just had enough of your whining. Mr Malfoy and Zabini off to your lesson now,” she scolded. Both boys ran before they could bear witness to the rest of Theo chidding.

Arithmancy was easier then it had ever been. In his first time round Draco was appallingly bad at it. He couldn't understand all the little things he had to do and the formula he had remembered. He had to bully Blaise into tutoring him. He was flying through the practice problems at a speed that even impressed Professor Babberling although it wasn't as fast as Granger. Wait, didn't she have herbology? Anyways, all they were doing was simple algebra that a 9 year old muggle could probably do.

That was one of the big culture shocks when Draco entered the muggle world. Muggles required children to start their education at the age of 5 and they weren't joking around about it. His manager David had shown him a piece of maths
homework that his 15 year old daughter had received. It was so far beyond anything Draco had ever seen a wizard use. It was fascinating, this led to Draco to find everything about ‘Maths’ he could. He went to the local library, studying alongside Alex who was a student at the local University. For his 19th birthday he had received a scientific calculator. It was among his greatest treasures. A treasure he'll never receive again.

He'll have to get that again. There was no way he was going to do all that mental maths plus there were a few theories he wanted to try using muggle therims.

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Before Draco knew it he was at the Great Hall eating dinner. It was delicious like always. Never had he thought that he would be able to enjoy Hogwarts food again. In his third flat the oven had broken and the landlord refused to get it fixed for six months. It really limited the food that draco could make. Once he had plain pasta for 2 weeks in a row before David took pity on him and gave him some leftovers stating that his wife had cooked too much. It was a thinly veiled lie but one that Draco took full advantage of. Cara was a good cook.

Draco had caught the eye of Neville a total of once through the meal but the boy just glared before Finnigan engaged him in conversation. He really needed to apologize.⁵ “Mister Malfoy, may I have a word?” Seriously, what was up with teachers pulling him aside? It was Madam Promfrey wearing a sharp expression.
He stood up, not bothering to nod. “I’ll see you in the dorms,” he said to Blaise before turning to follow the medi-witch.

“Now Mister Malfoy I like to begin by emphasising that I was thoroughly impressed by your healing charms. It was very well performed but I must insist that you refrain from healing other students that will come to me,” she slowed her speech towards the end. Promfrey was a pureblood through and through. She was saying that his skills were good enough that he didn't need to go to her or if he wanted to keep things secret. He had her approval. “Thank you Professor,”
“before you go, if you ever want advice on healing spells I'm all ears.” Draco gave a small genuine smile before walking off. He had made a new ally.

The Hallways were nearly empty, so rather than walk straight to the dorms Draco had decided to take a walk around the castle. His hands were itchy and they kept gravitating towards his pocket but he knew there would be nothing there. He hadn't smoked in 3 days and it was weighing him down, sure he has been able to breath like this in years but his mind was cloudy and overactive. Especially his lagillmancy, he had been looking into people's minds without even wanting to, he had to make a conscious effort to keep the thoughts away from him. He had accidentally seen the thoughts of a poor thirsty who was apparently having nightmares of Snape. And don't get him started on Potter who was basically an open book. Potter hadn't liked him, that was a fact Draco knew well but he wasn't prepared to see the deep hatred the boy carried for him, it had almost made him want to run when he saw it during breakfast. What did make him run was Longbottom. You didn't need lagillmancy to see the rage painted across that boy.

A painful spike towards the back of his head reminded him that he needed a smoke. The cigarette numbed his abilities, made it bearable to look people in the eyes. Any drug did. At least he was in Slytherin where the snakes were brought up with the notion of mental barriers and walls.
“Excuse me,” a dreamy voice said. “You're the boy that ran into me. I must say, did you follow my advice? You do seem to have a lot less wrackspurts but there are more nargles,”

Luna… the girl that plagued Draco thoughts well into the morning.

“Your shoes? Where are they?” Draco said quickly.

“Oh my housemates hid them. It's all in good fun.” She said without looking Draco in the eye. Draco summoned her shoes wandlessly.
“Here,”
“Wow. You can do wandless magic,” her voice taking an uncharacteristically well not dreamy tone. He really needed to use his wand before people started to get suspicious. He had been lucky so far as none of his lessons required wand work but eventually he'll have to use it. His wand hadn't been his since the day that Potter stole it. The ministry would have snapped it if it wasn't in the Golden Boy's possession. After the war Draco never got a another wand, he legally couldn't. He legally couldn't do most magic.

He was scared. Scared that when he picks up the unicorn core wand it wouldn't be his. Destined to be stolen once more.

“If you need help looking for your shoes just ask me.” he said to her. It was the least he could do.
“Thank you Draco,” she said, morphing back to her dream voice and then less with her shoes swinging from her hands.

               How did she know my name?

With Draco feeling well and truly unsettled, he climbed into bed and hoped for dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Neville

It was Thursday when Neville saw Malfoy again properly. The Slytherins and Gryffindor had potions together, which in Neville's opinion was just a recipe for disaster. Especially since it was Snape in charge, he was notorious for his hatred of the red house, and he took every opportunity to make that fact known. Seriously, he knew that Dumbledore was a few straws loose of a broom but even he was aware of the rivalry. What was his goal? Hope that they would eventually get over the difference?

“Theo, I'm sure you'll be able to do this without our help,” a quiet voice spoke up behind Neville. It was Malfoy who sounded calm but there was a certain tone of annoyance, similar to a parent on their last thread.
“Draco, I would love to do it on my own but unfortunately my arms are way too sore. But I'll understand if you don't want to help me, it's not like your father had order for you to help m-”
“fine,” Malfoy said with as much politeness as the asforth mentioned Malfoy.
So Nott was the reason why Neville couldn't get to Malfoy. He wondered what Malfoy seniors had done this time. In the first time the Malfoys had tried to get Hagrid fired and got Buckbeak executed, although he later learned that Buckbeak had escaped with Harry's GodFather, Sirius Black. He'll have to discuss that problem with Malfoy later.
In this timeline would Lucious still go after Hagrid, he had the evidence. A child still got hurt even though it wasn’t his child. Another thing he'll have to discuss with Malfoy. “It's fine Draco, I'll take over today,” that voice was equally annoyed but had a slight Italian accent to it.

Zabini.

“Noo Draco is better at potions than you,” but Malfoy had already gone and apparently chose to sit at the empty desk beside Neville and Hermione. His eyes were slightly sunken and his lips were pulled into a line but what stole Neville's sight was his hair. Gone was the slick back hair or even that atrocious bowl cut he had in forth¹ year, replaced with natural waves that flowed back.
“Wow,” he had whispered to himself. If he was really 13, he was thinking that it didn't belong on the Malfoy but in a strange way it suited him. The boy that Neville was used to looking like a porcelain doll, looked so right in that sort of carefree look. It was a strange feeling, a sort of guilt ran through Neville. That hair was only a frame of the real Malfoy. The boy that lived through a war. The Malfoy whose future would never be. But that was for the best. He hoped.

“Theo, does it hurt?” Parkinson said over the quiet muble of the class.
“Only when I use it,” he said in barvato. Malfoy did a similar thing when it happened to him. He would not shut up about it and used it to torment Ron and Harry. Nott was just as bad though, he almost felt bad for Zabini as he heard him order the Italian boy about. No wonder why Malfoy looked so tired. It was almost mid way through the double period when Pansy had convince Nott to torment Harry.

“Sir, I can't chop this,”
Professor Snape came swooping in like a bat. His dark eyes assess the boy. Obviously Snape didn't have a special connection to Nott but he wouldn't miss an opportunity to bully Harry. “Potter, chop Notts roots,” he said with glee. Neville really hated Snape, he didn't care that the man was a spy and saved Harry in the end. The man was a bully and terrible teacher. How did Dumbledore think it was appropriate to let this man teach? He would bet that the man had lost a few marbles working for the Dark Lord and never truly recovered. With a final glare he turned to supervise Lavender who was surprisingly gifted at potions.

“I can't believe that Mr Malfoy can't get Hagrid fired. Seriously that brute almost kills you and all he gets is a slap on the wrist, at least the birds being killed” Pansy said, stirring some root into her potions. That answered Neville's question. “I'd only taken the class because I thought professor kettleburn was teaching it.”
Blaise looked up from his and Nott's potion. “If I was you, I would complain. You can't get the proper education to even pass your OWLs with that half breed,” he said with a matter of fact tone.

“Shut Up Malfoy,” Harry said as he turned around. Neville turned as did Mione, Ron And Malfoy.
“Huh?” Malfoy said with a confused look. He obviously wasn't listening to his Slytherin friends. Blaise dawned a slightly offended look that morphed into pure confidence. “Sorry Potter, I'm Za-Bi-Ni, I know 3 syllable words are hard for you but I don't appreciate being miss called,” he said, making Harry sport a slight pink to his face. “Besides, didn't your mother ever teach you not to eavesdrop?” he said with a cruel smile. “You little” Harry said with all the anger he could muster whilst looking like a tomato.

Neville suddenly had the strong urge to punch the boy's nose. He was going to act on it when a silhouette blocked his eyesight.

“Orange Longbottom,” he said laddling the potion that Neville had been neglecting for the last several minutes. It was a real skill how quickly Neville potions could go south so quickly. “Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours?” Bit harsh. It wasn't like the potion was unsalvageable, it just needed more leech juice. He carried on a little spiel until even Neville at 21 years old felt slightly red in the cheeks. “Please Sir, I could help Nev-” Mione tried to help. “Mr Granger, I don’t remember asking you to show off,” he said before vaguely threatening to kill Trevor.

Malfoy passed him the leach juice- wait Malfoy passed him the leach juice? “Unless you want your toad to die?” he was still angry at Malfoy but he would take the peace offering. For now at least.
“Hey Harry, have you heard Sirius Black has been spotted,” Seamus said.
“Where,” Both Harry and Ron said in unison. Malfoy and Neville also looked up. “A muggle spotted him, she called the hotline,”
“What's a ‘hot-err-line’?” Ron said but was swiftly ignored. It was a fair question, Neville too did not know what a ‘hotline’, maybe it was like those ‘emails’ mione got from her parents.
“You shouldn't go after him, Potter,” Malfoy said quickly. Neville for the life of him couldn't remember how this conversation went in the first timeline as he was furiously trying to save Trevor from certain death so he was going to let Draco take the lead and hope for the best.
“Yeah cause I enjoy going after murdered in my free time???” Harry said dripping with sarcasm. A sudden wave of panic washed over Malfoy only visible to Neville from the slight tremor of his hands. ‘Oh he doesn't remember either,’ Neville thought. “You don't know???” The blond said with actual confusion written softly through his knitted brows. Potter replied with an equally confused look .

“Alright children. Let's see what happens to Neville's toad,” Snape said, effectively preventing the train wreck that would have been that conversation. Crabbe and Goyle laughed loudly causing Neville to remember their existence. Seriously, what happened to them after the war? Neville who was confident that his potion was usable which was a stark contrast to the rest of the Gryffindor who looked as if they were already in mourning for the poor pet. That did hurt Neville's ego.

Surprisingly to everyone but Malfoy and Neville, Trevor survived. “5 points from Gryffindor. I thought I told you Mrs Granger not to interfere,” Neville's ego was again attacked. She didn't even help him this time!
Wait. Where did she go?

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Draco

After the almost disaster of the potion lesson Draco had vowed to remember every single thing he knew.
The last day had been trying to say the least. First he had received a letter from his Father. The handwriting alone was enough to knock him out. The only reason he didn't burst into a tearful fit was because he was at breakfast. It had detailed how Draco should support Theo so Luci could get Hagrid fired. What an opportunistic bastard. He was going to rip up there and then but Theo had seen it and wasted no time in ordering Draco about. Draco knew it was some divine karma.

“Good morning class,” a soft voice brought him out of his ramblings. It was Professor Lupin. Draco wanted to curse Merlin for the fact he was a ⅓ of the man's age. Why were the hot ones always out of Draco reach? Lupin had been the first Crush Draco had and for good reason. The man was honey and warm to look at and radiated kindness. Kindness he had never felt.

Honestly he would have thought it pretty shameful if he hadn't heard of Alex's first crush being on her best friend's dad. “Right then follow me,” he was also Draco's favorite DADA teacher, not like it was a high bar. He unfortunately at age 14 misinterpreted his feelings for the man as hatred. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that he purposely ignored the feelings and covered them up with cruel jabs at the man's shabby clothes and werewolf heritage. Poor man², he is such a brilliant wizard but that disease limited his life in so many ways. It angered him, violent and deep. Draco had met the man, no monster that took pleasure in recounting the night he had infected lupin. He remembered the way Greyback leered at him like he was a piece of meat. At the time Draco didn't think it was any more than an intimidation tactic but now he knew more. He could guess what ran through that wolf mind every time he bit someone. Everytime he stared up and down at Draco or when he look in anticipation any time the Malfoys had failed.

The class, again consisting of Gryffindor and Slytherin, followed down the corridor and past peeves.
“Luney Loopey Lupin, Luney Loopey Lupin,” The poltergeist said. Professor Lupin quickly shot him down with a simple spell. “read to filth,” Draco said absent mindedly. He and Alex would say it after David would chide a nasty customer.
“Cool Sir,” Thomas said. Thomas had been there with Potter when the snatcher got to Malfoy manor. He had never quite gotten that look the boy gave him when he saw him out of his head. It was one of disgust and total and utter hatred enhanced with Draco lagillmancy that made Draco want to rip his own skin off. Never would he let that look ever be. Never would he let snatchers lay a finger on him. Never.
“Thanks, Now children follow me,” it was the staff room. Draco had been there a good many times for various reasons. Mostly because he was sucking up to Snape. Speak of the devil.
“Leave it open, I rather not witness this disaster that would surely become of this lesson,” Snape had said dripping with condescension but when he had realized that Lupin was barely perturbed he continued “Possibly no one's warned you but this class contains Mr Longbottom and I would advise to refrain from giving him anything harder the first year spells l, well of course unless Granger is whispering in his ear.”
That did make Longbottom red but with anger. Draco could see his hands balled into fist and eyes narrowing. Honestly Draco was feeling quite angry too. He knew that Longbottom would grow into a brave man and even if didn't become a war hero, how could anyone be so cruel.
“I was hoping Mr Longbottom could help me with the first stage of the operation. I'm sure he'll perform admirably,” Lupin Said with a forced smile. Snape looked judgmently at Longbottom before leaving and closing the door with a loud snap.

“Now then,” Lupin began setting up, with the help of Longbottom, the lesson. Granger answered some questions and Longbottom was placed in front of the wardrobe.
“Now Neville, what do you think scare you the most,” Lupin Said in a calm voice.
“Bellatrix Lestrange,” he said with little thought. A quiet chatter filled the room, mostly coming from the death eater children.

That was something that they had in common. Aunt Bella had been the one who had trained him in the black blood arts, she took joy in the possibility that he could become a valued servant of the dark Lord. And she took no chances to ensure he had the skills to do it.

A look of pure panic filled Lupin's face, obviously not expecting the boy’s fear.
“I'll understand if you want to sit-”
“No, I want to do this,”
“Oh um OK, so I want you to think of … her and make her into something funny,”
Longbottom nodded enthusiastically. “Hnn,” Lupin nodded as his face continued to become more and more pale. “On the count of 3. 1, 2 ,3,”
A tall woman stepped out with a cackle. Her boots made clicks across the floor and her hair was a tangled mess that curled around her face.

But the eyes.

They weren't her. More like a poor interpretation, lacking the cruel thoughts that Draco was always allowed to see.

“Ridiculous,” Longbottom said in a calm but strong voice. The woman tripped over her heels and was now dressed in a particularly ugly fur coat. Draco let out a small giggle that was drowned out by the Gryffindor laughter. Although the rest of the Slytherins remained uncomfortable still.
“Well done, Well done! Pavarti you're next,” Lupin said with colour finally returning to his face.
The Gryffindor lined up one by one in anticipation for the turn whilst the Slytherins stayed suspiciously to the back.
Mummy
CRACK
Spider
CRACK
until it got to Potter where Lupin jumped in and a silver moon appeared. In hindsight Draco probably should've guessed that man was a werewolf. He finished the bogart of.
“Now I'm sorry not all of you had the chance to face it,” he said, smiling apologetically to Potter and Granger but the his eyes narrowed and looked accusingly at the green clad children in the back,
“ But this will be on the test so I want you to practice the wand movements. Now let's see 5 points to everyone who participated, 10 to Mr Longbottom for going first and 5 to Harry and Hermione for the answer you gave me, also homework, read chapter 8 on bogart,” he said with a wide smile. The class started to file out but Draco had noticed that Lupin had asked Longbottom to stay behind.
“Blaise I'm going to ask Sir a question, go ahead without me,”
“What, why?” But Draco had already gone back towards the classroom.

Chapter Text

Neville

Neville needed to shake his hands out at the end of class. His magic felt contained. Like he was pushing a storm through a pinprick. He's noticed it for a few days now. It must be his adult magic not working with his child body. That would pose a problem. Another thing to add to his ever growing list.

“Mr Longbottom, I want to apologise that I put you in a position where you had to face Her,” Professor Lupin started. In the first round Neville's greatest fear had been Professor Snape and Lupin had rightly assumed it.

This time though he had met the woman that plagued his childhood nightmares Bellatrix Lestrange. She had ripped his parents away from him. He will never be able to hear his parents laugh. Or speak. Or even comment about the weather. The sweet wrappers were the only thing he had left of them. It wasn't fear of her per say but the fear she represents. He will never have a loving family.

Lupin had been one of the driving forces that allowed Neville to really succeed and be confident. His Grandmother although loving, was a harsh woman who wouldn't lie to her grandson even if that meant telling him devastating truths that tore his heart.

One of these things was when he was 4 or 5, they had just gotten back from the Malfoy yule party and Tiberous Nott had called him a squib. At the time, Neville didn't know what it meant ,although he would come to be deeply familiar with it as he got older, so he went to Augusta for clarification.

“It means a child born from a magical family with no magic,” she had said swiftly
“Am I one?” He had questioned. Nott had said it like it was a curse or something so disgusting it should be killed and it sent shivers down his spine.
“Possibly,” she had answered.

“Thank you Sir, but I'm fine,” Neville said.

“If you want to talk about anything, and I mean anything, my door is always open,” Lupin promised with an air of genuine kindness and confidence. The older man smiled as he continued, “Now don't let me keep you, it looks like one of your friends is waiting for you,” pointing behind Neville. He turned around confused, he didn't have friends that he was that close to, well at least not yet. A flash of silver white blond graced his vision.

“Uhh Malfoy?” Not the most elegant he's ever been. Wait, professor Lupin thought they were friends. Well he did see them share a compartment so it was a logical leap. But still. He was a Longbottom and Malfoy was well a Malfoy.
“Yeah,” he said as he walked into the room. How were they going to explain?

A calm washed over the blonds face and Neville instantly knew he was just going to have to roll with whatever nonsense spewed out of the other face.
“You promised me, you'd help me with the herbology homework, Rember?,” he said with a surprisingly whiney voice.
“Oh yeah, umm,”

Neville's head was reeling. Out of all the excuses he could, should have come up with, them being study partners was not one of them. And should have certainly not crossed Malfoy's head either. Lupin gave a soft chuckle but something was icy about it. Too forced. Lupin was smiling but the wrinkles around his eyes remained hidden.
“Mister Malfoy. How are you?” He said with half the amount of warmth he had only two minutes ago.
“Fine, thank you,” the blond responded with an even tone.
“Let's go. Thank you Professor for the lesson,” Neville said, not wanting to be there any longer.

Once they got in the corridor Malfoy wasted no time in leading Neville towards the room of Requirement.
“He doesn't like me, does he?” Malfoy had said as they climbed the stairs. He wasn't sure Lupin was capable of dislike, well unless you were a Deatheater but Malfoy was right. Neville had never seen the older man dislike anyone but his cold face made it pretty hard to ignore. Neville would have chalked it up to Malfoys past. Anyone who had met the boy even in first year would hate his guts on principle but Lupin had only met Malfoy once before and Malfoy was unconscious.

Malfoy had said it as a statement rather than a question which made it rather difficult for Neville to try and formulate an answer. For dear Circe, he was an auror and a jolly good one. Why was it when he talked to Malfoy it was like all his training went out the window. He literally had lectures about talking to people.

When they entered the room of Requirement it was much the same as it was before. Only this time Neville looked at it. Like before it was small and decorated with still pictures. One of them had a group of people huddled together firing wands? It had the word ‘star wars l’ underneath. And the bookshelf filled with books although they were magic. And Colors bombarded his eyes as if whoever created it had chosen at random for each piece of furniture. There was a clock that looked like a cat, a rug that was orange, the walls were purple and the shelfs were orange. But what drew his eye the most was the center of the Room where Malfoy had floped over the sofa. It was a bright electric blue and looked as soft as a rock. “What Is this place?” Neville thought out loud. Malfoy sat up with a bolt and a slight pink flush coloured the tips of his ears.
“um it’s my, I mean it was my living room… Mostly. We can change it if you're not comfortable,” he said quickly.
“No, it's cozy… um,” think “ did Nott hold you up?” Neville said awkwardly, not far off on how he would say it when he was really 14. But Malfoy didn't seem to notice or he purposely ignored it and started to talk.
“ He's been a right nightmare. Every time I tried to escape he stopped me even with Cassi help. I tried to write a letter to apologise to you but-”
“What?” Neville jumped in. Malfoy wanted to apologise? MALFOY? No what. This is the same boy who had laughed at him continually, joined the dark Lord and only seemed slightly remorseful at his trial. The closest thing to an apology that Neville had heard from Malfoy was when he ran off somewhere and never bothered anyone after the war.

“ Longbottom, I am deeply sorry for my outburst. I understand that you are trying to make a better future and I… want to help you” he said with a hesitant smile. It was sincere and it made Neville gut wrench. He was filled with an unfamiliar feeling of guilt. Almost as if he thought he should be the one apologizing. He knew he may have been a little too angry with Malfoy but he was completely justified in it. So why did he feel so sick when he said, “I accept your apology.”? He pushed down the thoughts clouding his mind and returned to the things he needed to do. The thing they needed to do.

Neville sat down on the beat up purple armchair. “We need to discuss our plan,”
Malfoy nodded and pulled some parchment from his bag.
“I only have 1 free period before I have to go to runes,” Malfoy had said.
“Fine, we'll make it quick. First we need to make an unbreakable vow,” Neville had tried to make it sound the least cruel he could but he knew what it would be interpreted as. Mistrust. But to Malfoy's credit he only nodded.
“I thought you might want that. I wrote this contract,” he said as he handed him a blank piece of parchment, “revelio, read through it and add any clauses you want but this is the minimum I am willing to do.” He casted with a shake of a hand. Neat handwriting started to appear.

       N. F. Longbottom & D. L. Malfoy-Black

• Neither party can ever serve the dark Lord faithfully
• Neither party can ever be branded by the dark mark by choice
• Both parties must do the utmost best to prevent the rising of the dark Lord
• In the event of the Dark Lord rise to power both must do the utmost to prevent its strengthing
• Neither parties may willing withhold information concerning the dark Lord defeat if asked
• In the event of The Dark Lord's absolute victory N. F. Longbottom must pledge to swiftly kill D.M Malfoy-Black

Neville stared at the paper. Hands shaking. He couldn't possibly agree TO kill someone. How would he be able to look at those sea coloured and spell them eternally closed.

He had killed people before. But hadn't had the choice.
“You want me to kill you?”
“Only if we fail.” The blond answered as if he had only asked about the weather. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. It wouldn't be different, he reasoned. No. If Neville had to kill Malfoy. It wouldn't be his fault. Right? It would be like everyone else his wand permanently touched. Out of his control. A matter of circumstance. He hadn't murdered anyone just… survived. It would be Malfoy's choice, not his.

“fine,”

“We'll need to find someone to act as our third party. That should be relatively easy. There is always a mind wizard in Nocturn that is willing to be obliviated. That brings me on to one of mine points,” Draco said, not even flinching at the contents written on the page. “the trace.”

Neville froze. Of course. They were children after all. How could he be so stupid.
“We should be immune to it,” Oh he thought slightly embarrassed. Draco continued ignoring the semi panic the Neville almost had. “I took the liberty of researching it. Slytherin has a uprising amount of law based books in our library,”
“You have a library?”
“You don't?” Neville only stared back. Wow. No wonder why Hermione is the only smart one in Gryffindor ¹.
“Anyways, it’s a one time thing. Once a baby is born and shows signs of Magic ruins around Britain detect the baby and cast a monitoring spell however it only lasts until your 17. And you're kinda immune to it after. Like during the 17 century the ministry tried to use it on criminals. It took them like 2 weeks to realize it hadn't worked when one of the criminals killed a man,” Draco said excitedly, “I actually think that's how Hogwarts admits students!” he continued before noticing that he was rambling and quickly shut it self up.

It made Neville weirdly uncomfortable, he found himself enjoying Malfoys ramblings.
“um yeah. That is to say we can use magic outside of school so we could apparate next hogsmeade weekend to..,”  he trailed off. Next weekend was October. He could wait that long. They could always go to the Hogshead but he was sure Aberforth owned it yet and didn't want to chance a more diligent owner catching them.

“Next Sirius Black,” Neville said. Harry needed a home and Black could give him that.
“Do you know what he’s actually trying to achieve cause I know he's innocent so he is not trying to murder Potter but like why is … he acting like he is?” Draco said.
“I do not know. I didn't meet Sirius more than twice before he died.” Neville answered. From what little Harry had told him after the war, Sirius was a brave man and was his only family beside the Wesely. Harry hadn't been able to hold conversations about things that reminded him of the war. And Sirius especially.
“I know he was a dog animagus,” Malfoy said.
“Yeah,” Neville added flatly.
“OK, well we obviously don't know what we're doing about him so we'll come back to him later. What's next on the agenda, hero?” Hero?!? Neville's face shot up from the patterned carpet to state at the blond's face. He only received a smile in reply.

“Um er My magic. Its feels too much for the amount that I can use. You?,” that wiped the smile off the other face. The boy reached into his bag and grabbed black wand. “I haven't used my wand yet.” that surprised Neville. In the first round, Neville remembered that Malfoy always had his wand in his hands. Twisting it around and firing some useless spells. They have had lessons where wand work was needed. Was he just not participating? Why?
“I've been doing all of my magic wandlessly. It's a habit,” oh. Malfoy was prohibited from using a wand after the war. He had argued it was too weak of a punishment and he hadn't been the only one.

“Lumos,” a soft white light glowed from the point.
“I don't feel anything strange,” he said, avoiding Neville's eyes. Staring straight at the floor like it owed him money.
“That is not a good sign for me,” Neville said dryly. He was not overly concerned. He had remembered having a similar feeling when he was really 14 using magic.
“Maybe you just need to adjust?” Malfounwas probably right.
“Maybe, I guess. Next thing then. Voldermort.” The word alone made Malfoy stiffen as though he was hit.
“Don't say his name!” Malfoy practically shouted.
“Why should I? That's his name,” Malfoy looked like he was going to argue but thought better of it.
“Harry explained that a thing called Horcruxes was keeping him immortal. If we destroy those Harry can kill him no problem.”
“I'll do some research. Does it have to be Harry that kills… him.”
“That's what the prophecy said. You can't really get around those things,” Neville said. And it was true. Alice and Frank Longbottom don't know their son's face because of that thing.

“Oh I forgot about that,” he said with pursed lips. “We need to work on a better form.of communication. I could probably make something similar to those coins that Granger made. Just give me a few days,” he carried on. Wait, he knew about the DA coins?

Neville looked to the cat-clock and saw that lunch was almost finish.
“We should probably get going, Malfoy. If we want to get lunch. Neville said he stood up. He grabbed his bag and went to turn.
“Wait.” Neville looked back “My name I'd Draco. Use it, at least when were alone,” He said far too coldly for someone inviting them on a first name basis. Especially a pureblood. But Neville would never walk from a challenge.
“Fine, call me Neville. Bye then Draco.”

Chapter Text

Draco

Heavy labored breaths filled the room. It was like Draco had been running for years and only now took a break. That one spell was like a fountain of water in the desert. A light at the end of the tunnel.

He had a wand. His wand. Draco stood in his fake living room until the end of lunch just marveling at his wand. Magic filled for the first time in half a decade, like a dam breaking. He had forgotten the gift of his birth. He promised he would NEVER allow anyone to ever take his wand away from him, not again. The unicorn hair core warmed on his grasped obviously agreeing and Draco heart swelled. For all that he loved the muggle world he was magic and leaving it behind was leaving his soul. He could have both now, the warmth in magicaless and the strength of the Magical. No ministry deciding for him.

Charming the contract and other pieces of parchment so its contents remained secret, Draco shoved all his notes into his bag aswell as his quills. How he hated quills, they were messy and inconsistencies, it had taken Draco 4 separate times to make the contract presentable. As soon as Draco had the chance, he was going to go on a shopping spree.

A small thud brought Draco out of his musings. Looking around slightly alarmed, Draco's eyes caught on to a book on the floor. Walking to it, Draco picked it up and blew the thick layer of dust making a load of grey causing Draco to sneeze.

             Hogwarts’ Rules and Regulations

                                Edition 1

                                      H. Hufflepuff & S. Slytherin

“What?” Never in his entire 2 decades and a bit of living had he ever heard of a Hogwarts rulebook. The best they got for rules and regulations was Professor McGonagall. Of course there were basic rules written up on bulletin boards in the common rules but they were written in an array of different inks and hands of previous prefects. In his final year Milli, his co-prefect, had to rewrite it as some 1st year students had vandalized the words "Fuck Carrows”. He never did find out who did it.

This book was thick and heavy. He would wager it would have rules than even Umbridge. It was plain. More of a notebook than anything. A soft brown leather with black ribbon bookmarks sticking out.

He doubted that it was truly written by Hufflepuff and Slytherin. The book was in far too good condition and he could barely imagine kind Helga and blood supremist Salzar getting along enough to write a book. Though they must have been somewhat tolerable to each other to make a school. There was so much hidden history the wizards weren't bothered to learn. Probably because they had a ghost for a professor.

Draco, with careful hands, opened the first page to reveal that the cover page was decorated in runes in which he had never seen before. They were so complex that he doubted even an unspeakable would be able to recognise them.

Ancient.

Pure old magic radiated out of the pages and grabbed onto Draco curiosity like a vice. He turned the page but the rest was empty though he could sense the invisible words taunting him and begging him to read them.

Realizing the time and if he stayed any longer he would be late Draco used the ¹bedazzlement charm to transfigure it to quidditch through the ages.

His mother had gifted one for his 5 yule. She had been the quidditch captain when she attended Hogwarts and wanted Draco to follow her in her footsteps. At age 4 he was already flying. 7 he could catch a snitch and by the time he reached Hogwarts he was guaranteed to win every match. However Saint Potter was somehow born with pro quidditch player skill and he didn't go pro. The asshole. His mother never quite forgave Draco for not carrying on her legacy. He gave up quidditch in 6th year… he didn't find pleasing his parents fun anymore.

“I need a smoke,”

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“Where were you?” Blaise had asked outside runes.
“With Warrington, couldn't find you,” he responded smoothly. Cassi was always down to cover for him.
“Really? You always seem to be hanging out with him. What is your boyfriend?” Blaise sniped. Now if he had been an actual 14 he would challenge Blaise to a duel and send snakes to bite him. And him as a 21 year old would probably just wiggle his eyebrows suggestively but that probably wasn't appropriate either. So he met in the middle.
“Are you mad I have other friends?” Blaises face crinkled and his mouth contorted into a sneer.

“Fine, don't tell me,” he stomped away to where Theo and Pansy were chatting animatedly. It was uncharacteristically emotional for the cold and handsome boy Draco knew. But he was technically an adult and Blaise was just a teenager, he really shouldn't judge. He will just help Blaise with his potion homework later when the other boy inevitably gets stuck . Blaise Zabini was one tricky enemy he was not prepared to have. The Social Prince of Hogwarts.

They entered the classroom and Blaise was still glaring at him so in a twist of fate he ended up sitting next to Granger. Not by choice. If he remembered correctly she sat next to Brown in the first round and constantly corrected the poor girl until she started crying. Draco didn't dislike Granger but she did so many things that made it difficult to like her.

“Now, These are the places you will be sitting for the rest of the year,” Professor Babbling said.

“Joy,” he had said instinctively. It was something he always said when David made him do something tedious. The Slytherins in the class giggled assuming that he was making a dig at Granger's heritage. Granger gave him a quick scowl before turning away. This was going to be a long few years.

Malfoy could feel the glares from both Granger and Blaise. “Mister Malfoy, could you tell me what ᛉ ² means?” ³ the old man said. He had seen that rune. An aching sense of curiosity filled Draco as he resisted the urge to ramage in his bag for ‘quidditch through the ages’.

“Life,” Draco said with a cool tone that sounded a little bit too excited for the ice prince.
“Close, it means birth, though you could use it in that context,” Babbling said, causing Granger to giggle.⁴ That girl needed to find some validation outside academics. Or better friends. The poor girl was always being berated by Wesely and Potter always took his side. For the wizarding savior, Potter had no backbone when it came to the ginger. No wonder she was so insecure. Maybe he could have a talk with Longbo- Neville about it later.

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As the day dragged on, Draco couldn't help but think about the rule book. Even if it was some student's passion project, those runes were impressive and where did it even come from. Draco had summoned his living room from the castle to recreate and he was pretty damn sure that he had no magic books in there so… what? . Hogwarts was built on centuries worth of magic, it would just be a waste of time in trying to understand it.

But what wasn't a waste of time is examining that book. Or doing the things he promised Neville.

Responsibility kicked Draco in the stomach and he pushed down his curiosity for the book. At least for now.

He entered his dorm room which he shared. It lacked personality. More of a showroom of a bedroom than an actual dorm. The only evidence of children actually living there were letters strewn across each boy's bedside table and the occasional sock on the floor.

Deciding his bed was much more comfortable than his desk, Draco sat down on his mattress whilst pulling out a diary from under his pillow.

Skipping a good portion of the book which Draco was too embarrassed to even examine his childhood writings, he started a To Do List.

My list of problems

1. Sirius Black
2. Cigarettes
3. Horcruxes
4. Hogsmeade trip “outing”
5. A form of communication
6. Cigarettes
7. That book
8. Find out what that Prophecy really said
9. I should become an animagus
10. Cigarettes
11. Rebrand myself so I'm not known as racist twat.
12. Cigarettes
13. Granger

“Draco, Flint wants you,” Theo said, startling Draco.
“Yeah, Coming,” Draco said as he closed his dairy and shoved it into his bedside table, warding it shut. Not the best he's ever done but it'll keep out his dorm mates.
“Awwww you have a diary,” Theo leered forward. Draco did the mature thing and jelly legged him on his way out. “Oh you bitch,” Theo yelled out.

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When Draco got down the stairs, the rest of the quidditch team was huddled together and Flint had hid Black board out. Cassi waved him over to sit next to him.

“Alright team. This is my last year,” Flint said in a serious tone which made it difficult for Draco to take him seriously. “And I ain't losing to Wood. So if I catch any of you slacking, I'm going to personally feed you to Greenhouse 4. Do you understand!” He shouted the last part.
“Yes sir,” the team shouted in response but Draco was slightly late so there was an awkward echo. Flint slightly miffed, turned to the black board then proceeded to drone on about tactics until even Cassi looked on the verge of homicide.

“Alright, team. Who's gonna win?” Shouting loud enough to alert the whole common room.

“Slytherin,” a unison of voices shouted across the entire room, not just from the quidditch team.

Maybe he could give quidditch another shot.

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It was dark when he finally made it to bed. He had been dragged to the hall for dinner and then helped Blaise with potions which left him no time for research. But he had a free period tomorrow. He had time…

Chapter Text

Draco

He felt like screaming or crying on the grass. He couldn't fucking work out how to read the book. It had tried every rune combination he could think of, every charm and even tried asking professor Babbling about it. The man enthused by Draco's interest in runes had sat with the boy the entire hour after lesson to explain ancient ruins to him. Blaise had stayed with him for 10 minutes before getting bored and leaving. It was fascinating to say the least. There was so much to learn that Hogwarts didn't teach him. Babbling had recommended 7 separate books that Draco immediately checked out from the library. 

He had bumped into the Golden trio whilst he was there.

“What do you think he is upto?” Weasley said, trying to be discreet but failing miserably. 

“I think it has something to do with Black,” Potter added. Draco left before he heard any more of their conspiracies.

Seriously, he hadn't even done anything yet. Gryffindors were so judgemental, all because they thought they were the peak of morality. It was so annoying! Maybe if they showed an ounce of compassion he wouldn't have been a death…eater. But they die. Dumbledore did. He was just too much of a coward to accept. Like always. 

Momentarily distracted by his frustration, Draco sat up from the blanket he had been lying on and stared at the Great Lake. It was peaceful and reminded him of home. He lived in a small beach town twenty minutes away from the nearest city. It was the first time he ever felt at home other than Hogwarts. The rolling waves that he would surf on, the smell of salt permeating his breath and the sound of children's laughter brought an undeniable amount of peace. A peace he had sorely needed, it was his own version of heaven. The great lake, although still, had the same grayish blue shimmer that filled Dracos vision most weekends.

He packed the book into his bag, knowing he was too frustrated to continue, and took out the necklaces that Historia had given him. He had asked her the day before if she had any jewelry she was willing to part with. And with little questioning she had brought down chain necklaces with a broad smile and whispered “I hope she likes them,” before winking and running off.

 She had been the one of the ones to visit him after the war. They hadn't been close by any means but Historia was always interested in muggles and 2 years into his exile she had appeared in the books store he worked in.

“Draco?,” She had asked tentatively. A hint of panic well hidden in her eyes.

“Yes,” he said, trying to be as kind, he had remembered how shy Historia was in their youth.

“It's good to see you. I've come for a book, a muggle one… please.” She had said with confidence. Draco gave a small smile and let out a giggle. She was dressed head to toe in the newest witch fashion. It wasn't like it stood out that much but it definitely screamed ‘I'm very rich and my parents spend more money in a day than you made in your entire life’. 

“OK Miss GreenGrass, Might I suggest ‘Pride and Prejudice’ , it's one of my favorites,” he said, handing her the decorative hardback from a display. “Yes OK, um how much do I owe you?” 

“£14. 50,” he said with a smile walking back to the till. She looked nervously and looked at her purse. She fumbled around for a few minutes before Draco took pity.

“The paper that says ten and the one that says five,” she quickly grabbed it and shoved it at him.

“Thank you, would you like a bag?,”

“Uhh yes,”

“40p change,” handing her 20p coins, “and here your receipt,” putting it in the bag and handing it to her.

“Thank you. I'm off to do muggle things like umm sitting on the beach,” she said before strutting out. She had come periodically every month after that. To get a new book, never staying more than 10 minutes though occasionally would tell Draco some gossip.

Staring at the three chains, he decided two necklaces and a pendant for each will do. There was a large yellow gold chain and two smaller white gold ones. He transfigured the two smaller ones to become one necklace with a pendant that would reach his callorbone and shortened the yellow gold and use the acess to make a pendent so they matched. Each pendant was a small thumb sized rectangle plain. Too plain. Now Draco knew it was only to communicate but he was a Black and he wouldn't be caught dead with something so unstylish. 

“Hmm what should I put on you?” He said looking at the lake once again. The snow drops were blooming, shimmering in the sun.

Neville 

Neville was not having a good time. Lonely was an understatement, of course he did hang out with Dean and Seamus but it always felt like he was 3rd wheeling and Ginny and him weren't close yet. They were only close because she had asked him to the yule ball and they accidentally became friends after that. Luna would have joined them to make their little trio but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find the little blond girl. The only time he's seen her dirty blond hair was at dinner.

And what made it worse was that Draco actually seemed to have friends. He was always surrounded by Slytherins, talking to, chatting with him or just generally being around him. And they seemed to generally like him! Not to mention it seems that he's made new friends outside the ones he had in the first round. For Merlin's sake he called Warrington Cassi! 

How could someone like Draco be more charismatic than Neville? 

“Probably because he's not socially awkward and doesn't have the personality of a potato,” Neville said self-deprecatingly as he potted some particularly aggressive tentencular.

 Punching one of the vines away, Neville sighed heavily. He was in Greenhouse taking his anger out on the poor plants. Those poor plants had been Neville's personal punching bags for his years at Hogwarts. Neville got rather strong as a result, the soft edges melting away revealing muscle, Ginny had remarked he was like a bear. Soft looking but enough muscle to snap a tree. He never trained to get the fusique that his colleagues said they were jealous of, he just potted plants. Of course the plants in question did have a habit of killing wizards but he enjoyed the hard work.

Professor Sprout had allowed a section of the green house in his second year to grow anything his heart desired. Most of his heart's desire was violent and semi sentient plants that had incredibly useful properties. His original plan was to harvest the plants for potions ingredients but his fear for Snape was so intense he had sworn off potions rather quickly and decided just to keep his plants as sort of pets. Friends really.

“Merlin I'm sad,” he said, taking off his apron and gloves before exiting the Greenhouse into the open air. A cool rush hit his face and clean air filled his lungs. Although he might be friendless, he still loved Hogwarts. 

“It's not going to be like this forever,” Neville reminded himself. He is in the timeline by accident, Yes but he is going to let that opportunity go to waste just because things were slightly harder than expected.

Hogwarts was his home.

Though the Grim did make him wish it wasn't. The shaggy dog was lying in the tall grass around the Greenhouse and it scared the living daylight out of Pure blood Neville. Sirius Black. He would try to get in tomorrow and then actually succeed on his next attempt. That was partially his fault, Neville's for the life of him could not remember passwords (he still struggles). When it was a daily password he was so overwhelmed that he begged Sir Codagan for them and he wrote them down but he had lost them and it somehow ended up in Sirus’ hands. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. Sirius may be harmless, but the punishment he got from McGonagall and his grandmother still sent shivers down his spine. Waiting outside the common room every single day made his ears burn with embarrassment just thinking about it.

Neville was going to approach the dog-man when Sirus noticed him and ran away faster than a spell.

“What is he doing?” Neville said to the void.

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When he got back to the common room Hermione and Ron were in some sort of fight about their pets with Harry being a poor mediator.

“Yo Neville, where you been?” Seamus said.

“Green house,” he responded. Seamus only gave a sad smile in return.

“You know you can hang out with us,” Seamus waved his hands, gesturing to Dean and himself. Neville smiled, his chest feeling warm. He nodded, this time round he wouldn't be poor, shy, clumsy Neville. 

“Good, let's get dinner. I'm starving,” Dean said, wrapping an arm around Neville's shoulder.

Chapter Text

Neville

“I could forge it for you,” Dean told Harry, referring to the Blank permission slip.
“Na, McGonagall already knows it's not signed,” Harry replied in a resigned tone. Harry had been down right depressing the past few days. His aunt and Uncle had refused to sign his permission slip for Hogsmeade this year and it was weighing down on the boy and making him slightly aggressive. Neville could relate to the boy's struggle though, when he lost the passwords, he was banned from all hogsmeade trips that year. It was not only embarrassing to see Dean and Seamus' guilty faces when they got back from Hogsmead smiling but he was the but of every joke for the next few months.

“Sorry mate, we'll bring you back sweets,” Ron promised Harry. Harry returned a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Seamus and Dean grab Neville by the arms and made their way towards the Great hall for breakfast. Neville was piling his plate with eggs and bacon, when an owl swooped down and deposited a letter right into his lap.

Nev,
Meet me outside the hogs head. Make sure no one follows you. Tell your friends that you're meeting your gran or something. We should only be gone for no more then an hour.
D. B

“Sorry guys,” Neville said looking up, “ I can’t be with you two the whole day. Gran wants to meet me and well. She talks for hours. But I'll try to get away,” Neville promised, meeting the unimpressed faces and Dean and Seamus. He pocketed the letter and tried to smile as genuine as he could.
“Fine, But get away as soon as you can.” Seamus said determinately.

They walk up to the entrance as a group, including Harry who looked down right miserable. “Maybe you could use your clo-?” Ron suggested.
“Ronold,” Hermione cut the boy off. Harry only frowned deeper.

“Is Potter staying?” Draco said more to himself than anything but the Slytherins misinterpreted it as a jab and Goyle added “Maybe he's scared of passing the dementors,” with a laugh. Harry balled up his fists but walked away towards the castle. Draco had a worse memory than Neville, it would seem.

It was a long ride to Hogsmeade. Dean and Seamus were chatting about muggle ‘football’ and Neville was slightly unnerved by the thestrals pulling the carriage so decided to stay quiet.

“Well see you later.” Seamus said as Neville left for the Hogshead. He took the back alley to avoid any one he knew and when he arrived he saw a blond chatting to Aberforth.

“This butterbeer is really good. What you put in it?” Draco said, seeming to be the only person in the bar.
“Really? Most people say it's shit.” Aberforth replied in a monotone voice. Neville was inclined to agree, He had only been brave enough to try the beverage few times but Draco seemed to have no reservations and took another gulp of the beer. He must have seen Neville in the reflection of the golden drink as the boy turned around immediately afterwards which resulted in him slipping off his bar stool and falling on the floor.
“Not very smart this one,” Aberforth said to Neville looking down at Draco.
“Hey, I'm plenty smart.” Draco told Aberforth still on the floor.
“Hello sir, please excuse Draco,” Neville tried to sound polite as he made his way to Draco to help him up.
“Na It's OK, I get drunks that aren't even half as polite as your boyfriend here.” Neville cheeks flushed red. He let go of Draco's hand making him fall on the floor once again.
“Ow,” Draco said, Neville tried to offer his hand again but Draco refused and got up on his own.
“We're not dating,” Draco turned to face Aberforth, “Just friends,” he said with a smile.
“You told him that?” Aberforth asked with a raised eyebrow. Neville blush deepend. And Draco smiled as if trying to hold in laughter. “Me, date him? You must be on something sir,”
“Draco!” Neville shouted mortified at what Draco was implying. Aberforth on illegal substances, it was … plausible but still.
“Haha,” the older man gave a hearty laugh. “I've give it 3 years,”

Neville and Draco left soon after that as Draco finished the remainder of his drink and Neville refused Aberforth offer for one of his own. They were in the woods near the town and Draco grabbed onto Neville's forearm.

“I'll appearate,” Draco said with no room for argument and soon he felt a pulling sensation towards his naval and a sudden urge to throw up. He preferred the flu. Strong smells of smoke and decay filled his nostrils and dark grays and blacks coloured his vision.
“Knockturn,”

“I think there’s a mind wizard in this shop,” Draco said, pointing to a building with boarded up windows and no sign. It wasn't very reassuring and Neville felt the urge to run in the other direction but Draco pulled him towards the door. Before he knocked he took out his wand and casted a charm Neville never heard of. His skin felt like ice and his vision waned. Draco's face stayed largely the same except from his eyes the change to a muddy black and his hair that straightened and became Black also. Neville assumed a similar thing happened to him.
“should last us 10 minutes so we need to make this quick,” and he knocked the door.

“What?” An old witch with a raspy voice and dressed in robes at least two centuries out of fashion said.
“Hello, My name is Regulus and this is my husband Frank. We would like a third party to facilitate our unbreakable vow.” Regulus told the women. She looked them up and down judgmentally.
“30 Galleons,” her face lit up and she hurried them in.
“Goerge,” She yelled, “customers!”. She led them to a shabby living room and sat them down on a creaky sofa. “Tea?” Frank shook his head stoically and Regulus replied with a “No, thank you.”
“I'll be in the other room if you need me. Goerge will be done shortly,” she said with a sweet smile.

It was several minutes before a young man in his twenty or so came hurtling down the stairs with a bottle of fire whiskey in hand. Neville right there and then, decided he was going to let Draco do the talking.
“Good morning,” Regulus said with an unfazed smile.
Goerge sat down in the arm chair opposite them.
“OK let's do this,” he said with a great amount of enthusiasm. “Contract?” Regulus gave him the parchment. “Coolio, I'm totally chill with you guys obliviating me after as long as I get my money,” Frank remained passive face but Regular smiled.
“Perfect,”

“Let's begin,” he said, unfolding the parchment, “wow um OK, unique. Um Which one of you is Draco?”
Regulus raised his hand. “You must be Neville,” he said pointing at Frank and Frank nodded in return. Goerge started at Frank for much longer than he did Regulus , more that he was trying to see through him. Neville felt something try to go pass his mind barrier, violent and uncaring . Frank stared down Goerge and the older man stopped with a jump. He looked away sheepishly but there was a hint of unease in the man's face.

“OK I'll just do it. Stand up. Hold hand, right. Really clasp each other's forearms, don't be shy.” the other two occupants of the room complied. Goerge waved his wand in complex patterns, looking at the contract occasionally. A hum of magic filled the room.1 ring of grayish light form around the arms. 2 rings. 3 rings. Until they made it up to 6.
“You want to add one more clause, 7 is the best for oaths,” Goerge asked.
Frank spoke for the first time.
“To Do the utmost to protect each other from life threatening harm,”
“Cool,” and a seventh ring was added.
The hum stopped abruptly.
“Oblivate,” Regulus casted before Goerge could even sit down. A slight confused look dawned on the man and Regulus handed him a leather pouch of Galleons.
“Thank you,”
Goerge only nodded in acknowledgement. “We best be off now,” and with that there was a crack and Neville found himself on the forest floor.

“A bit of warning next time,” Neville yelled. But stopped as he saw Draco's eyes, his real eyes. Grey and soft, like the ocean in winter. And his hair wavier than ever before and platinum white.
“Sorry, We were changing back,” he said, dusting off the grime on his clothes.
“I should be going now, Dean and Seamus are waiting for me,” Neville said proudly.
“Wait,” Draco said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a Gold Necklace. “To communicate, I've put on the Protean Charm, so all we need to do is change the inscription on the back of the pendant,” he said showing the back of the gold necklace. “You have a warm undertone, this one would suit you more,” Draco said, handing him a necklace. It was gorgeous and skillfully made, the was a simple image of the sun on the front of the pendant and on the back it read,

This took me 3 hours to make. You better not lose it.

“Well put it on,” and Neville complied. He clasped it around his neck and it laid neatly over his jumper. “Suits you, Sunny,” Draco said with a wide smile. That blond and his Nicknames.

Draco walked close so his face was almost touching Neville's and then held his own necklace, wrapped around his neck, towards Neville so the pendant was in view. It was almost identical, except for the colour, it was a white gold and there wasn't a sun or even a moon but a beautiful image of a snowdrop. “They don't really match, do they?” Neville didn't agree. Of course he couldn't think of a connection between the sun and flower but it felt right, like they belonged together.

“Anyways, It'll be warm when the inscription changes. And all you need to do is hold it like this,” Draco, clasped the pendant in one hand, “ and push your magic into it, like you would for wandless magic and just think of what you want to say.”

Neville's heart felt warm, and then he realized it was the pendant so he looked down. The chain was long enough that he could see the writing if he held it without taking it off.

Hi. Sunny.

Necklace copied Draco movements and thought hard.

Draco, obviously feeling the heat of his necklace, looks at the pendant.

Hi Snowdrop

The blond bolted his head up and stared at Neville with an incredulous look, before laughing. “I suppose it's only fair,” Draco said, with a broad smile. “If you want to send a message though, make it sound romantic so if anyone sees it, they'll think it's a gift from a loved one.” Neville understood the idea but he still went slightly pink at the thought of sending Draco love felt messages.

“For example, if I want to meet you in the Room of Requirement,” clearing his throat, “ My dearest Sun, I think of you in our place of meeting every day at 8,” He said with so much drama it reminded him of lock Hart. “Or the green houses, My sun my love for you shall grow like plants in the green house. And like the time or something. Maybe we should make a key for phrases. Like a code,” Draco's face morphed into smiles as he ranted about how their code could work. Neville just sat there listening for half an hour before Draco noticed he was rambling.

“Oh sorry, I started rambling. I should go. Blaise is probably worried. Bye,” he waved and then ran off, leaving Neville on his own.

“Bye,”

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

He met up with Seamus and Dean and ate lunch together in the three broomsticks. They talked about everything from Lupin's lesson to what girl Seamus had a crush on at the moment. The girl in question was a hufflepuff 5th year called Nevaeh whitch Dean called “the whites name he's ever heard”

Nevill wasn't quick sure what that meant but he was happy to be included.

When they got back to the Castle, they met up with Harry. He was showered with sweets by Ron and Harry told them about his day in the castle. Soon enough they were in the great hall for the Halloween feast. It was delicious like always and Neville was having a riveting conversation with Angelina Johnson about the uses of tentacular.

Draco

They were shuffled into the great hall like sheep. Every single student in the whole school chatted to each other theorizing why Black tried to get into the Gryffindor common room. Of course they all came to the same conclusion.

Potter

“Do you think Black will get him,” Pansy asked the group. Not laughed.
“I'd personally thank Black if he did, Seriously someone needs to excuse that mudblood,” he gravelly voice was quiet but strong. Draco tried to ignore them as they continued joking about Black. How could Theo speak such vile words with such righteous confidence. Draco wanted to hate these children. Like he hated the older counterparts. But every time he looked at the soft chubby cheeks or heard them laugh, he was filled with an overwhelming feeling of responsibility. They were children, children who were sheltered from the consequences of his words.

“Ok, lights out,” Weasley senior shouted. If Draco recalled correctly he was the 3rd eldest and the 2nd to be head boy in the Weasley brood. He has joined the ministry and supported through the war but Draco thought he was one of those people under the imperious. Did he survive the war? Draco couldn't remember, he was vaguely aware one of the Weasley had been killed.

A cloudy memory entered his mind, years long since last visited, a group of redheads surrounded a body crying, screaming for their lost brother. He latched onto the scene not truly observing, just looking. He wanted to pull away, let his mind rest but the thoughts of that boy, made him paralyzed.

Draco quickly shoved those memories down and went to wrap himself in sleeping bag. Those thoughts didn't concern him anymore, that tears will never fall now.

Sleep came to Draco surprisingly easy. Maybe it was the floor that reminded him of his stiff mattress topper or gentle chorus of breaths that lulled him to sleep like a lullaby. He dreamt off the waves hitting his back and gliding to the beach shore and Tom's yelling to keep his balance on the board. He surfed waves that got higher and higher until they reached the stars and he was in company of his name sake. Tom's voice got louder but his instruction became unclear. Loud words of encouragement shifted into a garbled mess.

He was suddenly in a ballroom. His hair was wet not with salt but tea. His aunt leered over him with a laugh. The mumbles in his head louder and louder. Those eyes he couldn't turn away from. That poor red head boy was motionless. Crying from a family he never knew. A mother shirking, wailing for her innocent daughter. Yaxley beggs. A girl, his age, eyes pleading. Eyes so loud his ears bled but her mouth was sewn shut. That baby’s scream, 2 months old. Bella telling him to try harder, his ears, nose, eyes pouring with blood

His laugh

Draco woke up with a start. His heart was ringing and breath so wild, he could feel his lungs burn. He tried to latch onto something, anything but it was dark. Cold. He was back there. Back with them.

“Mr Malfoy, are you alright?” a man asked, looking down at Draco in his sleeping bag. Blue eyes behind half moon spectacles bombarded his brain. Replaced by a soft image of a girl on the floor motionless.

Draco threw up right onto Dumbledore's shoes.

Chapter Text

Draco

Draco's throat burned. It felt like his insides were all scrambled and his brain felt cloudy, like a thick layer of wool had covered him; his senses felt overestimated however he could barely hear the soft snores around him. It was like he was back on astronomy tower, Bella yelling at Snape for taking Draco's chance. And all he wanted to do was cry.

“Oh dear,” The old wizard's face looked down at the blond boy shaking like a kicked puppy, “Severus, would you help me take mister Malfoy to the infirmary,” Dumbledore said quietly so as not to not to disturbed the other sleeping children. He looked down to his shoes before quickly vanishing the half digested contents of Draco's dinner. If Draco was in a clearer state of consciousness, he would be utterly and terribly embarrassed that he just vomited on to, arguably the most powerful man in Britain, purple and orange striped shoes. He had thrown up on people before, two in fact but one was a nondescript Deatheaters he served his aunt and the other was a random drunk girl when he was equally as drunk.

Snape and Percy Weasley held on to Draco's arms with the least amount of contact possible, as if the mere contact with the blond was causing them, Snape in particular, physical pain. Dumbledore ordered Weasley to remain in the hall and keep an eye on the students whilst Dumbledore and Snape left with Draco.

They traveled down the winding corridors with Dumbledore trailing closely behind them, Draco's shakes became more violent and quicker. Draco did his best to restrain himself but it only caused him to look more in pain. Dumbledore's face contorted in deeper shades of worry the closer they got to the infirmary. Draco's face became a sickly green and his brow was wet with sweat. And his eyes could not stay still. They were jumping around from one painting to the next and then to Snape and Dumbledore before returning to the dark hallway in front of him.

Dumbledore exchanged a worried glance to Snape though the black haired man looked more slightly annoyed if anything. “Severus, have you supplied Poppy with calming draughts yet?” Dumbledore said.
“Yes, of course I have. Do you take me as an idiot?” the other replied in a clipped tone.
“What strength?” Dumbledore said ignoring the other man's bristling.
“Normal, like you instructed Headmaster,”
“Do you mind getting one of your stronger ones from your private study?” he question, though it was more of an order, “I'll take Mister Malfoy the rest of the way,”
“Children shouldn't take that strength unles-”
“Severus,” Dumbledore interrupted whilst grabbing onto the blond's arm so he wouldn't fall.
“Fine,” and with a flash of black robes Snape left.

It took only a mind for them to arrive at the infirmary as Dumbledore was surprisingly nimble in his old age.
“Albus have you found hi-” she started before noticing Draco, “Oh dear Merlin,” rushing towards the boy, “what happened, that's right come with me lad,” asking Dumbledore whilst simultaneously leading Draco to a bed.
“I've sent Severus for some higher grade calming draughts,” Dumbledore told Promfrey as he took a chair next to Draco's bed. Promfrey looked quickly back at the boy.
“You don't think it's the Cruciatus curse?” she almost yelled. Draco slightly sat up from his bed.
“What? I've been crucioed?” Draco moaned, “whhhyy,” His tone was very reminiscent of a worker being told they
were short staffed. Promfrey quickly pushed back into a lying position

“Oh no. Though the symptoms are very similar,” Dumbledore said calmly. “I think Mr. Malfoy had a bad nightmare,” Promfrey shot daggers at the old man, “Mixed,” he added quickly “with something I think I should keep to myself, in the best interest of the boy” he said with a twinkling eyes.

“Head Master,” the doors snapped open and the dramatic presence of Sanpe entered. In his hand was a vile of a deep purple liquid. Promfrey rushed over to the man and snatched the vile. “Thankyou Severus, you may leave,” Dumbledore said. Snape's face contorted into a ugly glare.
“I'm his head of house,” Promfrey sent an unimpressed look to the man, “and GodFather,”
“You are?” Promfrey said with unrestrained shock. Dumbledore also turned around with a face of slight shock.
“Yes,” he replied monotoned
“Right, you still need to leave,” she smiled dangerously .
“Severus, check on the children please,” Dumbledore said. “We wouldn't want a panic if one of Mister Malfoy friends discovered he was missing,”

“Weasley is already ther-”

“Now,”

Snape, knowing he lost, stormed off with a vile glare. Dumbledore turned to face Pomfrey with a slight confused look.
“I assume there's a reason why you didn't want Severus here, Albus,” she walked back and lifted Draco so he was in an upright position. She slowly fed the vile to the boy he took it grateful.
“There no need to give Mr Malfoy, senior that is, more information then we want him to have,” he said,
“I suppose you are right,” she said looking at the blond, whose face had returned to color.
“Poppy, would you give us a second,” she flinched as she stared at him with such anger it was almost palpable. “Please,” a vase broke next to her.
“Fine, 5 minutes,” She entered her office soon after checking Draco was well enough.
“Mister Malfoy,” Draco bolted straight up. “I don't know what you know, or how you know it, or even how you can pass my shields so easily,” he said simply. Draco nodded as he couldn't open his mouth. “All I hope is you use it wisely. Whatever it maybe you possess,” he laughed but it was genuine. Draco thought it was a very good grandpa laugh. “My door is always open. Lagillmancy is both a blessing and a curse,”he said before standing up, “I hope you make the right decision. I let Poppy look over you now,” he turned for the door.

“wait,”

Dumbledore smiled warmly. “Neville and I-,” Dumbledore's smile became softer as if comforted by the words.
“I don't need to know. I've seen your kindness. That's enough for me,”

Draco will take the hand this time. He will accept help. He won't end up as poor little stupid Malfoy.

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

Neville

Neville woke up to the sound of bustling. It looks like there was a commotion near to the Slytherins section of the hall but Neville paid no mind, he just wanted a shower. After fighting Seamus for the first turn for the communal bathroom, Neville stripped and let the droplets fall on his back. The soft pieter pater released so much tension the Neville didn't know he had. Soothing, he let himself relax for the first time in a few days. Years really

“I was awake until one last night. They should cancel lessons,” seamus exclaimed loud enough so that even Neville could hear it over the sound of the shower.
“Yeah,” Ron agreed. “Plus Malfoy threw up at like 4,” he added.
“What?!” Seamus added incredulously.
“Yeah,” Harry confirmed, “I couldn't get to sleep after. Percy had a right panic and wouldn't stop pasting,” Ron laughed in agreement.
“Probably sleeping on the floor did him in. Right snob,”

The other Gryffindor Continued laughing but Neville zoned out. A sort of sickening sense of fear wrapped around his heart and it took all his restraint not to run out the Gryffindor Tower with nothing but a towel to find Draco and make sure he was alright. Thankfully his brain kicked in and saved him from flashing the Hogwarts population. He wrapped a hand around his Necklace.

My dearest, I hope to know thy health for the rest of my life.

Neville's cheeks went slightly red but Draco would understand. A few terrifying moments where his body remained cold went bye. Like a fire in snow his chest became warm with magic.

I'm fine hero. Thanks for asking

“What happened to romance?” Neville almost shouted. He had sent a love sentence to Draco and he sent that back! He was so annoyed that he forgot the fear he just felt.

What happened to the romantic letter!!

Oh Sorry, I should've explained this better. I assume you're alone and Since we're having a conversation, only the first and last thing needs to be romantic.

Neville was in a full blush at the moment. Head to toe he was red as a rose. Why did he expect them to converse in just love letters. Cooling himself he thought of a mother message.

That makes Sense.

We totally need a code. Anyways we need to talk.

Room of Requirement?

No can do sunshine. Prefects are patrolling the corridors. How about the green houses? Your private bit.

Sure 7:30?

Cool It’s a date. Now you can send me something romantic

I love you, my Flower.

“Neville, you ok?” Dean asked through the wall and Neville jumped. His face was entirely pink.
“Yeah,” he said, jumping out of the shower and getting dressed. He almost ripped the door of its hinges getting out.

“Finally” Seamus yelled, “what were you doing in the shower for so long,” wiggling his eyebrows. “Not that,”
“Not what?” Harry asked. Ron went bright red and Seamus and Dean started laughing.
“Nothing Potter,” Dean assured Him. After everyone got dressed, Harry begged Ron to let him in on the joke but quickly went as red as Ron did when Ron whispered it into his ear during breakfast. They day went by quickly and Neville found his eyes wandering to his necklace when he saw the empty spaces in class.that belonged to a certain blond.

The sun had set an hour ago and Neville was waiting for Draco to arrive. While he waited he punched his tentacular into submission. He was already starting to build some muscle.

“Oh that's why you were so jacked,” a voice said almost out of nowhere.
“Draco,” Neville said with a little to much relief. He was wearing a blue jumper with some loose trousers. “I heard you threw up,”
“Yeah, right on to Dumbledore's shoes. Pomfrey had me on bedrest all day. I've been miserable,” he said in reply, sitting on the cleanest potting table.
“muffliato,” Draco said with a slight giggle.
“I've missed my wand,” Neville didn't notice the slight smile that tugged on his face.
“What happened,”he asked.
“Oh um Dumbledore may now know we're from the future,” the blond answered sheepishly.
“What!?” Neville replied not bothering to keep his voice down.
“Ummm welll I um had a nightmare and when woke up I saw Dumbledore's weird blue eyes and you know I'm a legilimance. It was an accident. I swear I didn't mean for him to see.”
“Slow down, let's start again.” Neville said softly, “You had a nightmare and then you woke up to see Dumbledore's eyes?” he prompted.
“Yes,” Draco agreed with ,for the first time Neville seen it on the boy's face (at least his version), Embarrassment.

“I lost control. You see I was never properly trained to deal with my sight. I can't control what I see. Though Dumbledore should be an exception. Anyone trained in occlumency should be. They're much easier to ignore. But I lost control and just dived right into his mind. I ah saw his sister, I think, dead,”
Neville remembered listening to stories about Ariana from Aberforth. From what he gathered, her death was bloody.
“When I looked at his mind, he must of looked at mine,”
“Oh,”
“He doesn't exactly know we're from the future but he has suspicions” Draco said with a little tint of hope. “He also said that his door is always open so I don't think it's a problem Neville relaxed at that.
“Dumbledore is more of a big picture guy anyways. He probably only sees us as future allies,” Neville said. Draco nodded.
“Any ways not why I asked you here. I did some research on Horcruxes. There basically nothing in this school about them. Not even in the shady bit of the Slytherin library. So I looked at some of the older years' personal stash. I found one article shoved at the bottom of Rodericks Trunk. It was from when we were like 8,” Draco said, handing Neville the paper.

                 Destruction of soul Fragments
                               PANDORA. L

Where had Neville heard that name before? “The final paper never got released but this still has a decent amount of research. It's a real strange topic. The article talks about only destroying aspects for an object but keeps the whole intact. The research had applications like blood curses and even lycanthropy but I think it can be used on Horcruxes.” Draco said with a smile.
“but can't we just use the sword of Gryffindor or like basilisk venom,”
“Do you have the sword of Gryffindor or a basilisk?”
“No,”

…

“I just need to find the original author to get more info,” Draco continued, “it's the best we have so far. We probably should have a way to destroy the things before we find them. I can't imagine the side effect that dark magic would have,”

Draco was right. Neville didn't want to find out what effect Voldemort's soul would have on you.

“One last thing.” Draco said, jumping of the the table, “look don't take this the wrong way but I think there something wrong with your brain,”

Rude

“Thanks,” Neville responded sarcastically.

“No, I didn't mean it like that. I mean like there like an outside force in it. Like it's been tampered,” Draco tried to explain, “Even Goerge saw it,”

“Weasley Goerge or Knockturn Goerge?”

“Knockturn Goerge. Don't tell me you didn't notice,”

Neville did remember the wizards looking far too deeply into his eyes. But…
“I'm not letting you look,”
“Just think about it. You my friend now and there's definitely something wrong there,” Draco said, tapping his finger to Neville's forehead, “and I can fix it, please. Just think about it” he said with puppy dog eyes
“Fine,” Neville responded. “Let's go. It's almost curfew. I'll walk you to the castle,”
“What a gentleman,” Draco laughed.

They made their way down the path before yet again Neville was jumped scared by the Grim. Sirius Black. Neville went to tap Draco on the shoulder to make him aware but he had disappeared.
“Neville, look. It's a dog,” and before Neville knew it the blond was stroking Sirius like he was a regular stray. Neville almost ran toward Draco and the surprisingly amiable Sirius Black in dog form.
“Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?” Draco said, stroking the dog. As he stroked it, Sirius ' coat became glossed in the moonlight like he had been washed. “Don't worry boy. I get you all smartened up in no time” ‘ah wandless magic’
“I wish I had food for you,” Draco told Sirius who looked as confused as a dog could.
“We need to go to Draco,” Neville said, grabbing onto Draco's hand.
“aww no. This refined gentleman needs some cuddling.
“Nope,” and Neville dragged the blond away.
“Hey-” Sirius ran.
“That was Sirius Black,” Neville whispered. Draco went a deep shade of pink.
“We will never bring this up again,” He answered with a cutting tone.
“How didn't you realize,”
“He was a lot healthier the only time I've seen him. Plus I've seen like a million strays look the exact same as him on the streets of London. How was I supposed to know this Black dog was Sirius Black,” they say red at each other for a while before bursting out into laughter.
“I hope he couldn't see us in the dark,” Their laughter intensified.

Chapter Text

Neville

It was Saturday morning and the first quidditch match of the season, and Neville was over it. He had never been fond of quidditch, In fact he hated it. It was boring to watch and Neville had never gotten over his fear of flying he developed first year. Hermione said it was ‘trauma’.

Harry and Ron, after the war, had continually tried to get Neville to participate in the department monthly match even though he vehemently protested. Unfortunately his other colleagues found it funny and joined in, in trying to force Neville on a broom. It got so bad at one point where during a mission they had locked him in a room, without his wand, in the Lestrange manner, not letting him leave until he agreed to a match. That all but lasted 3 minutes as Neville punched the door down to get out.

They stopped asking after that.

And not to mention the entire house groaning about how Slytherin got out of the match. It wasn't Draco's fault he threw up. Pomfrey had forbidden him from even practice stating that the broom was no place for a boy in recovery. Every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon Neville would receive little messages of Draco's boredom of being left on the ground whilst his team was in the sky. Neville's heart was constantly warm.

He wished Draco would send him a message now, as he was freezing out in the rain wedged between Hermione and Dean. He tried several times to cast a warming charm; however, he only felt a slight warmth before it fizzled out back into cold. It made him feel uneasy he hadn't struggled with warming charms since 5th year. He hadn't struggled with any magic since 5th year. But here it was like someone put oil on his hands making him unable to grip his wands. Too strong a spell and it would fly out of control. Yesterday when he botched a transfiguration so badly that he narrowly missed killing Trevor, he almost went to Draco then and there to get him to ‘fix’ his brain. But then the Longbottom pride kicked in and told him never to let anyone near his thoughts. He felt very muddled for the rest of the day.

“Wooooo!” A loud yell brought Neville out of his musings. It appeared that Goerge, recognisable from his jersey, had blundgend a Hufflepuff chaser right square in the back. Quidditch was truly the worst.

The redhead made a quick sweep in victory around the pitch, speeding straight past the Slytherin stands. Blond hair caught his eyes, like silver to a niffler. Draco dressed in a thick fur quote and matching hat was talking animatedly to Warrington and Pucey. There was an unusual lack of 3rd year Slytherins surrounding Draco which made Neville strangely happy. Draco raised his arms to exaggerate a point and Neville found himself raising his binoculars to his eyes. Draco's smile was wide and warm.
“Cute,” Neville whispered to himself.
“What was that?” Hermione turned to him.

Neville felt suddenly warm in his cheeks but before Hermione could question there were screams of fear.

“Hufflepuff has Won the match,” but no one was celebrating as they watched a boy float to the ground, unconscious.

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

Neville didn't go with Hermione and Ron to check on Harry. He was afraid that if he went, the guilt on his face would be too clear. It's not like he wanted to let Harry get attacked by Dementors but he had little choice in the matter. What was he supposed to do, tell Harry to be on the lookout for the incarnation of evil and Suffering? They’re Hufflepuff fans. And even if he did, it might have catastrophic consequences. Harry needed the patronus charm and who knows if he would have still learnt it without this incident.

Neville spent the next few minutes lying in his bed trying to reason away his guilt. A sudden warmth shook Neville and he sat up so quickly his vision went blurry.

Good thinking, in letting Potter fall. We should keep the timeline as similar as we can, at least for now, so the future can stay predictable.

A sudden wave of relief filled his body almost as quickly as the warmth of his necklace filling his heart. He did the right thing. He collapsed backwards into his pillow.

Another jolt of heat made him look at his chest.

For the Sexiest Man alive.

Sometimes Neville wondered if Draco was really a pureblood.

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

Draco

It was 7 and Draco had managed to escape from his housemates. They were all enthralled by recounting the day's match, particularly Adriene Pucey. The tale progressively got more absurd and by now Draco was sure the boy would be explaining how Diggory had bribed the dementors.

He didn't have a purpose for his stroll other than taking a little break from thinking. He had always found physical movements to be easing. Especially surfing. One of the regulars at the coastal bookshop had been a surfer, Tom. Tom had been the one to introduce, teach and surf with Draco. ‘your a natural’, the phrase would grace the boy's mouth almost every session. It was true, Draco took to surfing like a duck to water. It wasn't anything like riding a broom other then the balanced aspect and he loved that about surfing. For the first time in his life he did something he wanted to do. No string attached. He would need to buy a board.

After a while Draco's nose was suddenly bombarded with… Smoke? A familiar scent that was both comfort and struggle.

Cigarettes

He quickened his pace, and made his way to the balcony that smoke was radiating from. A tall boy with blond hair and unarguably handsome face was staring down towards the lake, cigarette in hand. Hufflepuff robes glinted in the moonlight and Draco was hit with the sudden urge to start laughing. Perfect Cedeic Diggory, a chain smoker? Now that was some A-grade comedy.

“Excuse, but aren't you a prefect,” Draco said in the most innocent voice he could muster. The other boy jumped in surprise and dropped the Bud onto the floor before stamping on it.
“Yes, yes, how can I help,” he replied with a voice 2 pitches higher than normal. Draco just stared at him for a long second. Diggory cracked quickly.
“Please don't tell anyone,” he pleaded. Draco felt slightly guil at causing the boy so much panic.
“Only if you tell anyone about me,” he assured Diggory who returned a confused smile. Then Draco ran to the older boy and took the packet out of the hand hidden behind the boy's back. Draco took a cig out and lifted it to his face.

“You know it is polite to offer to light a guy's cig,” he smiled. Diggory awkwardly took his wand and lit Draco's. He offered the box back to Diggory which the other boy gladly accepted. Draco took a long drag and exhaled. His mind felt relaxed for the first time in weeks and the constant need to control himself vanished.

“You smoke too?” Diggory asked. Draco raised his eyebrows and then gestured to the Cigarette in his hand.

“I don't do it often, I swear,” the older boy said, getting another cig out of the box. Draco for a quick minute wished he hadn't taken a drag so he could see past the chocolate eyes and understand the boy's unease. Draco staring at the boy had the unfortunate side effect of connecting this young boy to the lifeless body on the grass. The first time Draco had ever questioned his parents. ‘But Diggory is a pureblood, surely The Dark Lord would want him as a follower,” he asked them. In return the would give him a hard glare and he wouldn't be allowed out of his room until he learnt his lesson. The air was getting awkward and Diggory had a suspicious sort of smug look.

“I do,” he settled on saying, “everyday, if I had access to them,”
“You aren't doing this to impress me, are you? Because I already like someone, ” Diggory asks with concern that sounded far too proud. Draco has a sudden twitch at the suggestion.
“Calm down Mr. Narcissistic. No, I just like nicotine. Not everyone wants to have sex with you,” Diggory eyes fell and was a delightful shade of pink smeared across his face.
“Oh, right yeah. Um. You like girls then,” Diggory said awkwardly.
“Men too.” Diggory blush grew. “You're just not my type,” he finished with a smile.
“right yeah. I've been quite full of myself lately.” Diggory added before his crumpled into an unbearable sort of frown.
“want to talk about it? You're letting me smoke, it's the least I can do,” Draco asked. Diggory returned a hesitant smile. “Hey, you know I won't spread it. You've got too much dirt on me,” gesturing to his cig. That seemed to convince Diggory. Hufflepuff are so trusting.
“OK, so um. Yeah. I… won. Why aren't I happy,” he said, “I finally beat him but I feel like I cheated. I know logically I would have won no matter what, it was right in front of me so why do I feel like I just got lucky,”

Draco needed a second to take that in. Diggory had been a martyr, a symbol. So much of an idol that Draco forgot he was a human. A child.

“Fuck Potter. He ruins everything,”

“your not very good at comforting,”

“I'm not?”

“No,” but Diggory had the absent smile plastered across his face and started laughing. “I feel bad but yeah Fuck Potter,”

“Saint Potter, ruins the lives of normal plebs yet again,” Draco has grown from his child hating self but old habits die hard. And it wasn't like he was there to hear anyways.

“Saint Potter??!!” Diggory said in disbelief has he laughed.

“You Know for his miracles. Do You remember when Dumbledore gave him like 200 at the…..”

They talk in the night air for almost two hours. Topics ranging from Potter to auror proposition, Amos Diggory overbearing nature and even at some point Diggory's crush on Cho Chang.

The prefect walked Draco back to his common room.

“Call me Draco,”

“Cedric then,”

Draco's mind, for the first time in weeks, was calm.

Chapter Text

Draco

It was a few days after the quidditch game and madam Pomfrey had finally declared him as fully recovered. He was half expecting a letter from his Father by now, looking for notification of his health or at least a check in. He reasoned that Snape must have told them about his speedy recovery and his father, not finding an opportunity out of it, quickly forgot about it. As for his mother, she had sent him a short but detailed instruction on how to recover quickly for athletes. It showed she cared, in her own way.

Draco found that was the way she showed love. Not in grand gestures but in small little nods. A particular memory, the first and only time she visited his muggle home. She had obviously been uncomfortable, especially with Alex around but she never said anything, just sat on the broken sofa with perfect posture, quietly.

“Do you still play quidditch,” she asked.

“No, I surf though,” he said quietly, to his surprise her face lit slightly.

“What's that like?” And she sat there as Draco explained the foreign muggle sport to Narcissa who's smile kept on growing.

She died a few weeks after that.

He was now waiting outside the DADA classroom listening to the chatter of the class and resisting the urge to pull out a cig. He had tracked down the 5th year hufflepuff selling them and bought half of the girl's stock. That was completely over price, almost triple of what you could get at the local corner shop but he supposed you were paying for the risk too.

And besides, it wasn't like he lacked the funds either, he had gotten in contact with Gringotts about his account where he discovered he inherited quite the fortune from his great aunt Walburga who had died the year previous and not to mention the fact it was untouchable by neither the ministry nor his father. He also seemed to be in possession of a town house in London although it belonged to his cousin Regulus who was dead so technically Sirius owned it but since that dog was a ‘criminal’ it went to him. By any means he intended to increase that fortune by investing in muggle enterprises like Google.

I'm going to be so rich.

“Hello class,” Professor Lupin said as he invited them in. His face was sunken and pale and Draco did not miss the way he limped across the classroom. The classroom erupted in complaints about Professor Snape's cover lesson and the homework he assigned them. Of course Draco didn't do it confident that Lupin wouldn't care for it. He saw the face of the older man contort into a painful frown when he heard of the contents of the assignment. Werewolf. Draco always wondered what type of grudge Snape could have that he made 20 children write about the best ways to kill Lupin. It was cruel. And a miracle no one connected the dots. Snape was a difficult man to understand, that was for sure.

Draco was filled with a sudden urge to help the older man, in any way he could. It was a familiar feeling but this time he wouldn't push it down. He could build on the wolfsbane potion, maybe mix it with the article he found or the animagus charms. He could find a way to help the man and he even had a herbalist expert that could help him.

He started planning in the class right there under the guise it was work, it wasn't like they were doing anything he hadn't done before. Lupin's smile grew throughout the lesson and the energy of class matched it.

He looked up from his paper and saw Neville in the front row watching Lupin with trained focus. That must be the auror in him, Draco thought. Neville was the bravest, kindest and most gentle auror he had ever met. The complete opposite of him. But these past months in the past had shown Draco that Neville was really a hero. Not just a figure from a Prophecy or man in the wrong place at the wrong time, everything the boy did was for others. He was like the sun, it blinded him every time the boy did really anything. He saw Neville help a first years to their classes, help Hagrid lift things for class, watched as he smiled at almost everyone he came in contact with. Including himself. It always made him feel warm when that smile was directed at him.

“Alright, it looks like we've run out of time, Mr Potter please stay after class, the rest of you off you pop,” he smiled and everyone packed up, though he seemed to walk straight towards Draco. The man's smile dropped. He was going to rush out the room with Blaise and Theo but they seemed to have already left.

Wow, Some friends

“Mr Malfoy, I understand that this may be easy for you, but you still need to engage in class,” he said softly. Draco had answered questions occasionally, Lupin shouldn't have been able to tell he wasn't paying attention.

“Sorry professor,” he said quietly, trying to sound remorseful but unfortunately it came out as obviously confused. Lupin eyes crinkled just a bit and suddenly there was a flash of guilt plastered across his face.

“Off you pop, I think Mr Longbottom is waiting outside for you,” he said all too quietly. Not wasting the chance he ran outside leaving Potter and Lupin alone in the classroom.

“Sorry Harry,” was the last thing he heard.

Like Lupin had said. Neville was outside the class waiting for him.

“Why does Lupin hate you so much?”
“I don't know???” He whined, “I literally love that man,” he added. Neville looked at him with a smirk and they found themselves walking together to the room of Requirement.

“Hey Neville I've been thinking, Professor Lupin's… condition, we could probably find a cure,” he said.
“Us find a cure to the most notoriously incurable blood curse,” Neville responded flatly.
“Yeah, I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be optimistic,” Draco said, turning to Neville with a smile.
“Where would we even start,”
“Well the Wolfsbane potion, is probably best and then a mix of the animagus potion and that article I showed you,”
“There's an animagus potion?” Neville asked, confused.
“Yeah, it's um experimental. Apparently a Russian wizard came up with it. We covered it 7th year,” a flash of pain presented on the blond face, “I'm pretty sure I remember how to do it so we'll need to test it on us first,”
“Right? Testing an experimental potion on ourselves sounds real safe,”
“Hey I thought Gryffindor are bra-”
“Brave not stupid, well… at least not all of us,” he said. Draco gave him an offended look. Neville caved. “As long as you promise it won't kill me, I'll try it,”

Draco's smile once again returned.
“I would never get you killed,” he promised. “Oh and I found a new lead on that article. So it was printed by the prophet,” he said excitedly. Neville looked at him trying to gauge how serious Draco was being.
“That's it?” He asked.
“Yeah? How do you not see how great that is, Barnabus Cuffe runs it. That man is meticulous. He has a copy of every single issue ever made. That means there are records. Records we can use,”

“Ohhh, how would we get the records,”
“I'm working on that,” Draco replied sheepishly. Neville laughed.

Neville

“I'm working on that,” Draco said. Neville laughed involuntarily. Neville had found that the boy next to him had so many ideas he forgot to stop and think sometimes. It was cute.

Neville suddenly felt Draco hand grip onto his forearm like a vice. Neville's head cracked around to see the boy kneeling on the floor, barely upright, shivering.
“What's wrong,” Neville asked.
“N-n-nouthing,” Draco croaked out. Neville crouched down, arm still gripped by the other boy, to look for signs for visible injuries like he was taught. Grey met him and like ice water being dumped on his head, he realized what happened.

Neville wrapped his arms around the still shivering blond, a hug. He had seen this happen before. Only once, with his mother. He was so confused, her yells radiated across the wards, nurses running in all directions. His father staring at his wife, distant eyes that for a second filled with grief.

Crucio tremors.

Her's lasted an hour before a nurse put her down to sleep. Draco seemed to be slightly luckier. He calmed quickly and soon his harsh breath smoothed and Neville released his grip though Draco remained in the embrace.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Neville just tightened his hold once again. At some point Neville wondered what someone might think if they had stumbled on the scene. Two boys, Gryffindor and Slytherin, huddled together in one of the more disused corridors of the castle.

Apparently he didn't have to wonder as the the raspe voice of Professor Trawlany bombarded his ears

“Oh dear, oh dear. My inner eye told me this would happen. My dear Boy you are able to stand. Longbottom get off him,” she said. Neville pulled himself up and gingerly helped Draco to his feet. Fearing the boy may fall.
“Now now, listen closely. I'll only say this once,” she muttered.

Draco wobbled slightly but seemed to be quickly recovering although he lent on Neville just a bit. Neville noticed that his hair was tousled and he brought his hand to place a white blond strand behind his ear.

“Are we ready,” she looked at the boys.
Both Neville and Draco looked back confused.

Her eyes rolled back.

“What the fuck,” Draco shouted.

“For better or worse my words have been undone. A Sun born as the seventh month dies, mind beyond body has arrived joined by Winter's flower born to serve, the one He should not have lost, raised in a gilded cage . They alone united under death's vow. An equal to the dark Lord they become. Journey in secret for neither can live If the seven survives. Winter flower and July’ Sun together united with the Power the Dark Lord knows not. My words will be done.”

Her eyes rolled back into place. almost as if nothing happened she smiled a walk away. Leaving Neville and Draco alone in horrified confusion.

Chapter Text

Neville 

Both boys turned to each other with abject horror. 

“What was that,” Draco said after moments still clinging onto Nevilles forearm out of fear of collapsing. Neville opened his mouth to answer only to close it realizing he didn't have an answer. 

“Did you know she was a real seer,” Draco asked. He blinked a few times.

“Sort of,” he stumbled, “I know she had one real Prophecy before,” Neville whispered as his brain had seemed to catch up with the situation. 

“Which one?” Draco asked.

“Harry's,” he said slowly.

Draco slumped to the floor, releasing his grip on Neville. There was a small imprint of the boy's hand and his wrist. Neville knew Trwanley was a seer. A bad one who only got it right once in her life before but a seer nonetheless. 

“Fuck,” Draco whispered on the floor. Neville crouched on the floor to be at eye level. He studied the boy's face, beads of sweat traveled down the boy's temple plastering his blind locks to his forehead, his school robes tousled and shaken in a way that would have certainly cost Slytherin house points. But what was most prominent was the clear image of dread. 

“This doesn't change anything, we were still going to kill Voldemort,” Neville said in a cool tone. Draco looked up and the panic slowly melted off his face. 

“Yeah you're right,” he said, accepting the hand Neville put forward. A little scurry on the floor made them both jump and Neville grabbed onto Draco hand like it was a life line.

A rat ran past.

“Just a rat, Neville, you're fine. We're fine,” Draco said in a shaky voice that implied that he was not in fact fine. Neville looked at him with an upside grin and Draco just returned a smile. They broke out into laughter. It echoed across the hallway and Neville was sure that Ravenclaw tower would be able to hear them. 

“I think,” Draco said between giggles, “we better call off the meeting for today,” Draco told Neville. A sudden but clear sense of disappointment filled Neville's gut like water in a well after a storm. He found himself trying to think of an excuse to spend more time with the boy in front of him but nothing left his mouth. It wasn't like they were friends, a partner of convenience was accurate. He has no right to ask the boy any of his time so why did he feel the aching regret of a mistake when he wished the boy goodnight and began the long lonely journey back to the Gryffindor common room.

It was still light outside and there were some firsties playing Godstone outside, laughing like nothing else. He had never played it before. Didn't have any friends for it. If he was being truthful his childhood was a lonely one. His uncle Algie, who ran the estate, had kept him hidden until his magic had manifested but it was too late to make friends by that time. All the purebloods had created their own friendship groups already almost entirely set in stone. He remembered one time when he was 7 or 8, his Uncle had brought him to a Parkinson dimmer party.

“Any signs of Magic?”

Neville shook his head, not daring to look up and risk eye contact.

“Pity,” the older man said with sympathy though to Neville ears it sounded more like pure malice. He had been forced to stay by the man's side the entire night despite the other children playing.

That didn't matter any more. His uncle had passed away when he was in fifth year and Neville found himself in charge of an estate which was a mountain of paperwork he never sifted through. Longbottom estate sat empty for his adult life.

Maybe it could be different this time.

“Mr Longbottom, how are you my boy,” a soft calm voice brought Neville out of his leering. Neville turned around to face the bright blue eyes.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Neville said in a surprisingly deep voice. Like for a second he was his age again.

“Had a chat with young Mr Malfoy, recently,” the older man continued.

“Err yeah,” Neville responded quietly, not quite sure how much to reveal.

“Good, good. You boys are all each other have, at least for now. Stay close,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. Neville looked at him wide-eyed. It was true, Draco was the only one who truly knew him, the real him. And Draco did say they were friends.

“Why can't I get anything right,” he said, forgetting where he was.

“Well I can't say for sure, but I think you're exaggerating Mr Longbottom,”

“Huh, what,” Neville's eyes widened. “I ah, I…. I'm sorry,” he whispered. His throat was beginning to close up and there was a strange darkness starting to cloud his vision.

“No need to apologize, my boy,” the older man smiled apprehensively. Almost like a switch had been switched. His eyes started to well and his surroundings melted around him. 

All he could focus on was Draco handprint still indented on his wrist. 

His mother's scream rattled in his mind as if she was right in front of him. Shouting, Yelling to escape the prison of her mind. Another scream rang out, a boy… or was it a girl, he couldn't tell. Their voice, too young to develop individuality but the pain is as clear as the red of the spell causing their cries. He tried to calm his breath, think of something to sooth his mind

 laughter. Their laughter. Luna's, Gin's Seamus, Dean. His friends. The friends who had left in the future. Abandoned in future.

He would never see them again. Never hear them again. They're gone. Completely. He'd killed them.

“Mr Longbottom,”

He had killed them.

“Mr Longbottom,”

All he had left was Draco.

“Frank,”

His father?

“Sorry, I'm okay. I'm okay,” he said looking up. His vision is mostly clear. Dumbledore had a frantic look written on his face. Neville couldn't stand it.

“Sir, I have to go now,” he didn't wait for a response. He ran. Ran straight to green houses.

Closed the door and fell to the floor. 

“All I have is him,”

He was 13 again. Crying over plants.

Draco

His body always hurts after his ‘shakes’ but even so every time he was surprised when he felt like he was run over by a train. He was currently trying not to fall asleep whilst listening to Pansy and theo daily verbal throw downs. Today's topic was something silly, the answer to question 3 in their COMC homework. Theo was supported by Crabbe,( Goyle out taking potion intervention with a 7th year) and Blaise whilst Pansy supported by Daphne and Historia. So Pansy was winning at the moment. Usually he didn't mind their argument, it was reminiscent of the twins that argue in the children section of the book store. 

But today when he was covered in pins and needles and they were shouting louder than a sergeant he wanted nothing more than to cast a lanlock on them. And by the looks of it most of the Slytherin population agreed. They were in the common room for Merlin sake. 

A seventh year sat up from his table. She made long strides towards the group and stood questioningly in front of them.

“What?” Pansy said.

“Shut the fuck up,” She said slowly, taking care to pronounce each word slowly and clearly. Theo broke into laughter.

“What are you going to do, mudblood,” he said. But the girl's face did little to change. She looked equally pissed as she did 3 seconds ago.

“Was that supposed to offend me? Yeah my parents are muggle and? No one actually gives a fuck. So unless you want a duel, Shut your fucking mouth,”

Theo stood up taking his wand out ready to cast a spell but his wand was knocked out by a wordless one. The 7th year had her wand facing the group, daring them to try again.

“You Bi-”

Theo was interrupted by the long case of Professor Snape smacking his face. Draco suppressed a snort.

“Miss Lore, I understand that Mr Nott can be grating but restrain yourself,” he said.

“Sorry sir,” she said but she didn't sound very sorry.  

“Mr Nott, Miss Parkinson. I understand little fights have become sort of a courting ritual for the two of you but there are students studying for their O.W.L so I suggest keeping the noise to a minimum,” he said like a threat.

They went matching shades of pink.

This time Draco couldn't keep the giggle in and he snorted. Unfortunately the rest of the room was dead silent. 

Snape gave a pointed glare at Draco.

“Sorry Sir,” Draco said in his best customer service voice. 

The older man gave a huff.

“The Headmaster would like to give some notices. First Good luck on the 7th year mocks that are starting tomorrow….”

Draco fell asleep that night quickly although his hands kept reaching for the pendant that layed across his chest hoping it would glow with warmth.

Chapter Text

Draco

A couple weeks have passed since Draco had met with Neville. He had tried to arrange something but Neville was always unable to go. As a last ditch effort. Draco cornered him during DADA.

“Neville,” he whispered. Neville was sitting in front of him. They boy didn't hear him. He wrapped his hand around his pendant and waited. A soft warmth blossomed in his hand.

What?

Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me?

He waited. But his chest remained cold.

Please

Draco felt slightly embarrassed that he was being so pushy but Neville hadn't spoken to him in two weeks and he was missing him. Cassi hung out with him on the odd occasion and Historia and him had recently developed a sort of two man study group. It was nice but it lacked the realness that he only felt with Neville. Besides, they had things to plan.

Draco stared at the boy, studied him. He was taller than he remembered him to be at this age, only slightly shorter than Draco himself. That would soon change though, by the time they were in 7th year, Neville was (would be) a good 3 inches taller then. His hair had also gotten darker over time, from almost a yellow gold to dusty blond. Draco thought Neville looked like that actor, Mathew something or other. Neville was twirling his wand around his hands. It wasn't Neville's wand. It was straight and light brown, missing all the ornate detail Draco knew that his real wand possessed. Maybe he was misremembering or maybe Neville got a new wand.

Yeah that was it. Draco got it wrong, it wasn't like he and Neville were friends before this whole time travel thing. Draco wasn't even sure they were friends now. Neville was nice, nicer than most, to him but he was nice to everyone. That was just Neville. He was sweet like a warm hug.

“Stop ignoring me,” Draco whispered to Neville. They boy didn't turn but Draco could sense that he was starting to annoy Neville so he wouldn't mor-

“Siri, stop talking,” Lupin said in an absentminded tone.

“Sorry sir,” Draco said in a mirrored tone.

He continued teaching, unaware of the silent confusion of his red and green class. Neville turned around this time. His eyes were filled with slightly unnerved confusion, so was nearly everyone in the class.

“Siri?” Lavender whispered to Pavarti. Draco then realized his mistake. His mother, similar to other mothers, would more often than not miss name him. However Draco lacked siblings so she resorted to her siblings and cousins. Andy was the most common but on occasion she would say Bella, and sometimes Siri if she was particularly angry or stressed. She never apologized even when Draco yelled at her for calling him a girl's name. She would shout back, telling him to respect his mother, he stopped complaining after age 9. Only time he ever got anything close to an apology was, a year before the war, she had called him Regi; she stared at him, unblinking, before turning on her heels and walking off in silence.

“What's the problem guys,” Lupin turned around after noticing the sudden uptake in whisper. No one answered. He has a soft snort. “Hey, I heard some giggles. Now I know I am one charismatic guy but even my skills can't make snorlax funny,” He waited for someone to answer. “no one, OK so-” He turned to continue his lesson but Seamus interrupted him.

“Sir, it's just that you called Malfoy Siri,” Lupin froze. His face was scrunched.
“Ah, did I? Sorry mister Malfoy. I used to know someone remarkably similar to you. Must have mixed you up,” he said with a forced smile.
“But Malfoy resp-”
“Ah, is that the time? Off you go. And don't forget two pages due next week. If you need help I'm free tomorrow 3rd period,” he said before herding the class out.

Draco packed his bags as quickly as he could. He wasn't Exactly embarrassed, it was just that he couldn't be bothered to answer. “Draco, why did you respond?” Theo asked loudly.

“Cause he looked at me. I'm not stupid,” Draco answered in the most condescending tone he could muster and projected to ensure the Gryffindor who were eavesdropping could hear. “That's Up for debate,” Blaise chimed in before running out of the classroom.
“Hey!” Draco yelled, chasing after him.

“Boys,” Pansy huffed.

“Draco wake up,” dark skin covered Draco view. He swore Blaise was growing faster than a beanstalk.

“Five more minutes,” Draco moaned. He was getting used to not having to wake up at the crack of dawn and wasn't going to let anyone claw it away from him.
“No you've already missed breakfast and I'm not going to miss Hogsmeade cause you're so bloody lazy,” he said, josling Draco a bit more. In all honesty Draco did really want to go today but he had potion ingredients he needed. And the three broom did have a delicious roast.

He got up and changed into some dress trousers and white linen shirt which was covered by his fur coat. For some reason Lucious Malfoy had been enourmed with fur this year and almost all Draco clothes incorporated it. Another thing Lucious had control over in Draco. He never got to develop his wizarding style, his clothes were always just a shadow of his father's taste. Of course he knew what made him respectable, admirable, alluring but not what made him happy.

“Blaise, could you help me buy some new clothes,” he said.

“Of course ¹amo,” he said with a wide smile plastered across his face.

“Of course Princess Draco wants more clothes,” Theo said with a drawl.

“Theo, you're welcome to join. Dear Merlin, I know your clothes need an update. Did Tiberous forget to take you to Malkins? ,” Draco responded back.

“ oh fuck off.” Theo shouted before stomping out.

Blaise and Draco exchanged looks before shrugging Theo outburst.
“I got you a bacon sandwich,”

The thestrals drawn carriage ride there was slightly awkward as Theo refused to talk but would sigh loudly every other minute. Draco did feel slightly bad. Theo was very close to his father. Theo was a miracle heir born to the Notts 16 years after their eldest child. Coincidentally Pollly Nott had been ill for 4 months before Theo birth and had to temporarily leave Hogwarts to recover. Though like Draco said that was a coincidence. Theo was always slightly sensitive whilst talking about his family.

“Me and Pansy are leaving now,” Theo announced.
“We are?” Pansy asked. And like that they were both(Theo dragging pansy) running down the street. Crabbe and Goyle also left straight to honey dukes.

“Peace and quiet,” Blaise breathed out. Draco giggled. They first went to Pippins so Draco could gather some potion supply for the animagus potion.

“What do you need this for?” Blaise asked, bored.
“Experiments,” Draco answered cheerful.
“You're so weird sometimes,” Blaise said with a fond smile.

The walls were filled with almost every color. To blue snake skins that look like silk to yellow dust finer than powdered sugar. The floor covered in shimmers and shines and the ceiling stained with smoke and sut. It was like a child had been let free to design a sweet shop but occasionally got distracted by insects in their garden. Frog legs pickled in jars, Flower heads hanging in bunches and cabinets full of herbs. It bombarded Draco senses filling his nose with strange delightfulness and disgust.The floor led to the back where a young man with dirty blond hair and scrawny body was staring.

They spent a total of 15 minutes picking out ingredients before meeting the boy in the back: Mr Pippins Junior. Draco handed his things and the man began weighing and counting before notting things down on a piece of paper. His hands were red and flakey. Probably due to the amount of time he needed to spell his hands clean.

“Mr Malfoy, your total will come up to 140 Galleons and 5 sickles,” he said with a sickly smile. And handed the paper, detailing each ingredient and price.

“Hmm really? That expensive?” Draco said, pulling out his customer service tone.
“Yes?” Pippins said, slightly uncomfortable.
“Is that because of Hawk moth is imported from In-”
“India,” he cut Draco off, “yes India. You have a keen eye! Very expensive.” he said more confidently.
“Really. Hawk moths a native to the British mountains. They can't survive in humid climates,” Draco said with a smile, “And they are incredibly common.” Pippins junior shrunk into himself.
“How much do I owe you again?”
“100 galeans,” he said quietly
“Come again?”
“70 Galleons,”
“Oh right. Silly me. Here you go,” Draco said, Handing the man a leather pouch. “Bye, I'm sure we'll see each other again,” He waved the man Mr Pippins junior goodbye before leaving the store. Blaise stared at him slightly.
“Maybe you aren't stupid after all,” the boy said.
“I am so intelligent,” Draco told Blaise.

They chatted for a bit and had lunch at the three broomsticks. Neville was there with Finnigan and Thomas. He was staring intently at a table with Weasley and Granger. They locked eyes for a second and Neville mouthed.
“I got this,”

Draco wasn't quite sure what this was but he was quite happy he didn't have to participate.

Blaise and Draco paid for their lunches and left. They went to Gladrags. Blaise and Draco Immediately jump into the racks and shelves. Although Draco hadn't had the chance to develop his wizard style, he had with his muggle And for that he knew exactly what colors would work. 

Draco tried silks and sating, muslims and cotton, dress shirts and robes the color of sea. When they were finished both Blaises and Draco's hands were full with bags and their smiles wide.

Neville

Neville wasn't listening to Dean and Seamus discussing football, instead he was watching intently at the back where he swore he saw a short boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes. He knew Harry had a habit of sneaking out but seriously, when he knew a murder was on the loose. Harry was probably the leading reason why everyone thought Gryffindors were stupid.

The bell on the door rang and Neville was momentarily distracted by a group of people entering. Professor walked in and started chatting with Madam Rosmerta.
Neville's eyes returned to his meal but then he immediately looked back up. In the corner of his eye he spotted a blond boy staring at him. Draco. He had a curious expression and looked well happy. Although there was slight concerns as he turned his head where Harry was sitting. He was sitting next to Zabini. Alone. Draco was alone with Zabini. A sort of jealousy filled Neville.

He quickly stamped it out. He had no reason to be Jealous. Draco did ask Neville to go to Hogsmeade together and it was Neville's own stubbornness that made him reject the offer. He should just let Draco enjoy his day with his friend. Even if that friend was Zabini.

“I've got this,” Neville mouthed to Draco. Draco returned a confused smile but seemed happy enough. In a matter of minutes they were both leaving, laughing as they walked out.

At the same time the group of professors and Minister fudge received their drinks .

“I'm going to the loo,” Neville told Seamus and Dean who nodded quickly before returning to their conversation. He headed to the bathroom before performing a disillusionment charm. It was difficult. Too difficult. Neville as an auror was brilliant at almost all types of charms. It was disconcerting but it was good enough for now. He’ll work it out later.

Harry underneath his cloak was hiding under the table, his legs peeking out. Neville stood near the large Christmas tree, close enough to hear, far enough to be unnoticed.

‘So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?’ ask Madam Rosmerta’s voice. Fudge turned his head around to check for eavesdropper, both missing Harry and Neville. He said in a quiet voice, ‘What else, m’dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened at the school at Hallowe’en?’

‘I did hear a rumour,’ admitted Madam Rosmerta. Her face was scrunched up in a uncomfortable frown.

‘Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?’said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

‘Do you think Black’s still in the area, Minister?’ whispered Madam Rosmerta.

‘I’m sure of it,’said Fudge shortly.

‘You know that the Dementors have searched my pub twice?’said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. ‘Scared all my customers away … it’s very bad for business, Minister.’ She eyes became icy.

"Rosmerta, m’dear, I don’t like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. Necessary precaution … unfortunate, but there you are … I’ve just met some of them. They’re in a fury against Dumbledore – he won’t let them inside the castle grounds.’

‘I should think not,’ said Professor McGonagall sharply. ‘How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?’

‘Hear, hear!’squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

‘All the same,’ demurred Fudge, ‘they are here to protect you all from something much worse …we all know what Black’s capable of …’ his face was dark.

‘Do you know, I still have trouble believing it,’ said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. ‘Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have though. I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you’d told me then what he was going to become, I’d have
said you’d had too much mead.’ she said with a faraway gaze.

‘You don’t know the half of it, Rosmerta,’ said Fudge gruffly. ‘The worst he did isn’t widely known.’

Neville thought that Fudge was always incompetent but seriously sharing Minister secrets in a bar was a new low.

‘The worst?’ questioned Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. ‘What could be worse?” Her voice thin

‘You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta,’ murmured Professor McGonagall. ‘Do you remember who his best friend was?’ she said slowly.
‘Naturally,’ said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. ‘Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here – ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act,
Sirius Black and James Potter!’

A loud thud alerted Neville to Harry. He had dropped his tankard.

‘Precisely,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course – exceptionally bright, in fact – but I don’t think we’ve ever had such a pair of
troublemakers –’ she nattered.
‘I dunno,’ chuckled Hagrid. ‘Fred and George Weasley could give ’em a run fer their money. Those little bastards,” he said fondly.

‘You’d have thought Black and Potter were brothers!’ chimed in Professor Flitwick. ‘Inseparable!’

‘Of course they were,’ said Fudge. ‘Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was the best man when James married Lily. Then they named him
godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him.’

“Yeah,” Neville whispered to himself. “Maybe you shouldn't broadcast it in the middle of a pub,”

‘Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?’ whispered Madam Rosmerta.
‘Worse even than that, m’dear …’ Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. ‘The Potters used a Fidelius Charm.’
‘What's that?’ said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat .‘An immensely complex spell,’ he said squeakily, ‘A charm. hides a location. But some one holds the secret. A secret keeper.!’ he said dropping off.

‘Black was the Potters’ Secret-Keeper?’ whispered Madam Rosmerta.

‘Naturally,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself … and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters’ she said. Her face was full of grief.

‘He suspected Black?’ gasped Madam Rosmerta.
‘He was sure that there was a traitor,’ said Professor McGonagall darkly.

‘But James Potter insisted on using Black?’

‘He did,’ said Fudge heavily. ‘And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed –’

‘Black betrayed them?’ breathed Madam Rosmerta.

Fudge nodded darkly.

‘Filthy, stinkin’ turncoat!’ Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.
‘Shh!’said Professor McGonagall.

‘I met him!’ growled Hagrid. ‘I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an’ James’ house after they was killed! Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin’ motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin’ there. White an’shakin’, he was. An’ yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN’ TRAITOR!’ Hagrid roared.

‘Hagrid, please!’said Professor McGonagall. ‘Keep your voice down!’

‘How was I ter know he wasn’ upset abou’ Lily an’ James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou’! An’ then he says, ‘Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I’m his godfather, I’ll look after him –’ Ha! But I’d had me orders from Dumbledore, an’ I told Black no. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. ‘I won’ need it any more,’ he says. ‘I shoulda known there was somethin’ fishy goin’ on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin’ it ter me for? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he’d bin the Potters’ Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin’ ter have ter run fer it that
night, knew it was a matter o’ hours before the Ministry was after him.
‘But what if I’d given Harry to him, eh? I bet he’d’ve pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes’ friend’s son! But when a wizard goes over ter the dark side, there’s nothin’ and no one that
matters to ’em any more …’

A long silence followed Hagrid’s story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, ‘But he didn’t manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!’

‘Alas, if only we had,’said Fudge bitterly. ‘It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew – another of the Potters’ friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters’ Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself.’

‘Pettigrew … that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?’ said
Madam Rosmerta.
‘Hero-worshipped Black and Potter,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I – how I regret that now …’ She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

‘There, now, Minerva,’ said Fudge kindly, ‘Pettigrew died a hero’s death. Eye-witnesses – Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later – told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he
was sobbing.

‘Lily and James, Sirius! How could you!’ And then he went for his wand. Well, of
course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens …’

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, ‘Stupid boy … foolish boy … he was always hopeless at duelling. should have left it to the Ministry …’

‘I tell yeh, if I’d got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn’t’ve messed around with wands – I’d’ve ripped him limb – from – limb,’ Hagrid growled.

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hagrid,’ said Fudge sharply. ‘Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I – I will never forget it. I still
dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him … a heap of blood-stained robes and a few – a few fragments –’

Fudge’s voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.
‘Well, there you have it, Rosmerta,’ said Fudge thickly. ‘Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class,
which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black’s been in Azkaban ever since.’

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.
‘Is it true he’s mad, Minister?’

‘I wish I could say that he was,’ said Fudge slowly.

They carried on. Neville was red in the face. Sirius Black was the best friend of James Potter. Practically brother. How did no one question why Sirius would ever betray James. He was a loyal dog. Neville look for Harry but the boy seemed to have already left.

He told Dean and Thomas that he needed to check on his plants. They readily agreed and Nevile was making his way back to the Castle.

Neville waited on his bed, curtains drawn. Harry stomped in, Ron behind him.

“Why didn't they tell me!” He shouted. “That fucker is the reason my parents are dead. And they fucking didn't tell me,” he yelled. On the verge of tears.

“Harry, calm down,” Ron said gently.

“No! That bastard is probably here to finish the job. Kill me! But I'm going to kill him first. I promise.”

“Harry… Let's just get some food, ok?”

“OK,”

Chapter Text

Draco

Hogsmeade Station was strange, so muggle yet so Magical. It looked like any other station; tracks of tarnished steel, gray cobblestones and a sea of people (granted children but still), however there were baskets of levitating flowers that never wilted, large owls flying overhead and the never escaping sense of joy. Joy. The main difference. Every month he would go to London, collect some limited edition books, and every month he would feel a certain sense of dissatisfaction.

It was as if genetically imprinted on every other adult with a black suit and blank stare. Something completely absent from his home culture. Wixen were illogical to a fault, creating problems Yes but also hope. Too stupid to see the futility of the ways. Maybe that is why Draco felt more comfortable among the muggles.

Off to the side stood a group of children waiting together. They were all dressed in expensive clothing that stood out among the crowd of jeans and t-shirts. The slytherins. Even among the Muggles borns of them, they were still impeccably dressed.

A whistle of a train rang in the air as the red gleaming steel of Hogwarts triangle came into view. It shrieked to a stop in front of them and a tall man with a Santa hat stepped out.

“All aboard,” he shouted.

A rustle of children kicked and punched their way on, to ensure they'll get the best compartment.

Eventually Draco made it on the train, limbs attached.

He found himself in a compartment near the front of the train. It was composed of Pansy, Theo, Blaise, the Greengrass sisters and himself. Vince and Greg had chosen (told by Pansy) to sit in the compartment over as there was no room.

“I'm so excited!!! My family is hosting Yule,” the short girl with Bob said, almost bouncing.

“Yes Pans, you've told us already,” Blaise said.

“I for one think it lovely that the Parkinsons were chosen this year,” Daphne said in a tight voice.

“Shut up Daph, you're just as annoyed as the rest of us,” Theo spoke.

“I am not!” She retorted, swishing her hair about her.

“I am. The Hearth hasn't chosen house Greengrass in a century. The Parkinson got it 2 years running,” Tori said.

“The Hearth chose the most suitable option. It's not my fault your house is bloody useless!” Pansy almost yelled. On the one side, Draco knew he should intervene and diffuse the situation but on the other, this was pure comedy.

“I'm part of that ‘bloody useless’ house,” Daphne said.

“I didn't mean you Daph. Your sister However,” Pansy's face turned dark.

Tori looked like she was going to jump Pansy but the girl relented, probably deciding it wasn't worth it.

“I don't understand you British purebloods,” Blaise said in a haughty tone.

“Yet you still go to Hogwarts and every Yule feast,” Draco spoke for the first time.

“Only because the Zabinis choose the best,” Blaise replied coolly, “But seriously letting a fire choose the host?”

“It's not just a fire,” Pansy started. Tori copied Pansy's motion, mouthing Bla Bla Bla .

“It's a magical binding contract,”

Bla Bla Bla

“That upholds pureblood tradition,”

Bla Bla Bla

“Historia I can see you,”

The smaller girl immediately stopped in her tracks.

Daphne kicked her sister in the leg.
“Sorry Pansy,”

The bobbed girl sniffed.

“So besides Yule. What else are we doing?” Theo asked no one in particular.

The conversation carried on and Draco did little to follow it. He was staring at the window watching the rolling hills slowly melted into the urban landscape. The buildings weren't as tall as he remembered them to be. Smaller too. It was incredible how quickly muggle advanced, especially compared to the slow stagnant nature of the wix.

“Finally we're here,” Daphne cried. “I can't stand this train!” She whined.

They all gathered their things, Greg helping Draco with his.
“Greg, you really don't have too,” Draco said, slightly embarrassed. Draco wasn't weak by any means, he was probably above average however his slender and tall appearance gave the illusion of fragility.
“Na, its good strength training,” he replied.
“Princess Draco strikes again. This time, too lazy to carry his own things or maybe too weak?” Theo said laughing.
“Ha, Ha, very funny,” Draco said, monotone.
“Stop being mean to Draco,” Greg said. Sweet boy. So much like a puppy.
“Ok,” Theo replied, knowing it would be enough to convince the other boy. Greg's face lit up with accomplishment and had a wide smile.
“I'm going to find Vince,” he said, carefully placing Draco's trunk and owl on the floor, “ aunt Alice Is taking us to America,” he loudly exclaimed.
“ Have fun,” Draco replied in genuine happiness for the boy. Theo stared at Greg as the behem of the boy ran to Vince and Mrs Crabbe.

“Gods he's thick,” Theo snorted.
“I mean he does work out,” Draco responded.
“Yea- wait what?” Theo turned to face Draco but the blond had already left.

A woman with soft white curls, a graceful green velvet robe stood silently to a side. Perfect posture and an even expression. Just like a doll. Narcissa. So young. Her eyes lacked the crinkles and lines he used too, her face soft. She didn't look happy but she looked alive at least

“¹Maman,” Draco said to get the woman's attention. She looked around before her gray eyes focused on Draco.
“²Mon ciel étoilé ³ we need to hurry. My portkey leaves at 3. Your Father is in Russia with His cousin.” She paused As if contemplating something truly vile, “so you will be alone until yule,” she finished before appearateing them both to Malfoy Manor.

Tall. Big. And somewhat ugly. Peacocks prancing around in the drive and the constant buzz of water dripping from the fountain bombarded Draco’s senses.

His mother started walking away from him in a hurry. Her heels crunching on the gravel before clicking on the marble steps. He ran to keep up. The 10 feet tall door opened slowly but his mother didn't wait for them and stepped right through, barely fitting. Draco waited a second longer to follow.

“How is quidditch,” she yelled out, motioning for some elves to collect his bags.
“Fine, I'm back on the training regiment,” he answered smoothly.
“I saw that the Slytherin match got delayed,” she said with suspicion.
“Flint used my sickness to cancel the match. It was storming,”
“Yes. Wise boy that Flint.” she said without emotions. Draco looked up at the grandfather clock, 2:59. His Mother clutched a black velvet purse that was missing its clasp.

“Goodbye. I will see you at Yule,”

“Bye,”

Crack.

Neville

Luna. He was sitting alone in a compartment with luna. She had grabbed him by the forearm on the station and dragged him to the back of the train. They were sitting in silence for almost half an hour before the girl whispered.
“I know you.” She had a dreamy expression. A strange mix of total clarity but overwhelming confusion. “I know you but my brain doesn't, Why?” She asked. And she sat there waiting for an answer.
“Uhh umm I can't tell you?” He stammered out.

Her hair fell in front of her face and her blue eyes twitched almost like a Bunny. He had missed her. So very much. She had been different after the war. She was fine. She was doing well. Neville thought she was moving on from the horrors of it all but then the death eater trails came and it was like something in her snapped. Something broke, she no longer smiled. Just stared as if she was uninterested in the world around her.

This time travel had been a gift. but In return he had lost so much. Taken so much. He felt strange. He knew in his heart this was the right thing, the honorable thing but every time he looked at Draco his heart sank and something deep inside of him wanted to curl up and die. But at the same time he wants to ensure nothing ever gets close enough to even breathe on Draco. Draco was the only thing he had of his life left. The one Luna died in, the one so many died in.

“Oh alright then,” she smiled like Neville had told her the meaning of life.
“Do you know much about wrackspurts? You have many,” she asked.
“So I've been told,”

This was a gift. No matter how much was taken in return.

A woman with a red handbag clutch with bony hands and an enormous eagal hat. Agusta Longbottom.

“Neville Hurry up. We haven't got all day,” she said, as commanding as ever. Neville walked over to the woman and gently placed his hand on her forearm. With a crack Neville was outside Longbottom Manor.

A tall man, leaning on a cane, walked to them.

“My dear Nephew, how is school,” the man smiled, although it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Good,” Neville said, “I'm doing a lot better this year,”

“Yes I heard. Not a single potion exploded so far,” The man chuckled.

“Your cousins are inside preparing lunch. Why don't you help them,” he asked.

Neville didn't particularly want to talk to his cousins, they were much older then he was, all of them graduating Hogwarts already. They weren't mean or anything but there was always a heavy air of awkwardness. They acted as if he was a fragile vase too delicate to hold. They were well intentioned but it was grating at times, especially when he would become older.

“I'm actually feeling quite tired uncle, am I able to have a nap,” Neville asked softly.

“Of course. We'll wake you when lunch is ready,” he answered. “Lotty,” he called and a house elf appeared in flowy floral pinafore,

“Yes Sir,” she squeaked.

“Take Neville's things upstairs,” he commanded. And with a pop she disappeared.

Neville greeted his cousins before climbing up the stairs and walking down the corridor to get to the west wing. His wing. It was his parents before they died. Now it was all his.

The walls were lined in dozens of pictures, his parents graduated from Hogwarts, being awarded their auror license, their wedding's and Neville first Yule. He was so enraptured by the moving frames that he almost missed his bedroom door. He had forgotten how everyone just blended together at the manor. The doors and walls are the same shade of green.

Harry had asked him to move into Grimmauld place, ‘to help renovate’ he said, Neville agreed only to male sure Harry wouldn't falled down into depression. And maybe selfishly he couldn't bear to be in the Manor. Too quiet, too much of a reminder of what he lost.

Grimmauld never got renovated, it was like it was alive, Harry and him just learnt to live with it.

With one shaky hand he opened the door. He didn't know what he was expecting, but Neville was slightly disappointed by the mundanity. Exactly how he remembered. Boring, all expect from a wall covered In sweets wrappers.

Chapter Text

Neville

Cool quiet filled his mind. Like a mist of peace showering him in complete safety and content. Pure white walls melting into pure white floors as if there was no divide, no dimensions nor space. It felt like he had been here his whole life but he had never seen anything like it before. Neville for the first time in his life felt at home. The ceiling above felt like a grand expanse and he wondered what sun could produce much light

His legs move forward or backwards, he couldn't quite tell. Maybe he was rising above, climbing invisible steps or falling to unimaginable depths.

Out of nowhere a ghost appeared in front of him. Except she wasn't a ghost, she looked tangible, she looked alive but her skin deathly white, devoid of color, her hair glowed as if it was made of pure light and her dress flowed around her curves but there was no wind and she was as still as a corpse. She looked like a Greek statue.

For a brief second Neville wondered if her eyes were white but they were covered by a thin sheet of fabric, obscuring them.

“Your train is about to leave,” she didn't open her mouth but he knew it was her voice.

“What?,” he whispered. She lifted up her arm, fabric falling to reveal more ivory skin. Her hand extended to point to a train that wasn't there a moment ago. It was almost identical to the Hogwarts express, except white.

A scream rang out and a twisting crushing sense of pure nausea permeated his will.

“Hurry, it's boarding. You don't want to get stuck here,” she sounded uncertain of her words. Like her script had just changed without her knowledge. His head sounded and there was an undeniable sense of urgency. He needed to stop that scream. quiet that anguish. He was running but nothing moved, his legs not making contact with anything. His heart squished and stretched trying to rid whatever had made Neville feel his senses were on fire.

“You could bring him, I suppose,” she said.

“Neville,” she shouted. The voice was too high. Too young to be that marble ghost.

Neville woke up with a start. He was lying in his bed, sweating like a pig. There was a dipped on the side where a woman was sitting. His eldest cousin Ella. She was young, only 24 and managing the Gardens, the Longbottom prize enterprise.

“Huh what,” he breathed out, his eyes wildly trying to focus on something to make his head stop spinning.

“You ok little cousin?” Ella said, “you don't have a fever, do you?” She said and before Neville could answer her hand was placed firmly across his forehead.

“No, I'm fine,” he responded, voice gravelly. She gave him an unconvinced sniff, slowly lifting her hand away.

“Is everything OK at school, no one bullying you?” she asked. Neville was so taken back by the question he almost fell off the bed. Throughout his childhood straight through to adulthood that was the first question his family always asked. It was strangely nostalgic, he hadn't heard it in a while because he hadn't visited his family in a while.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Making lots of friends,” he said, more harshly than he intended.
“You can always talk to me, I know it's hard being so…” she cut herself off, unsure how to continue.

“So much like a squib you mean,” Neville said flatly. Her eyes widened in panic.

“No, No. No, Neville, you're not a squib,” Ella said but she said it more to convince herself then him. “You just need some extra help,” she said softly, gently. There was an awkward silence.

“Neville, we'll always support you, know matter what, right?” even if you fail your O.W.L

“Yeah,” he said trying to keep the anger out, “Thanks,”

She smiled and stood up from his bed. “Lunch is ready. I'll see you down stairs.

He calmed his breathing, Anger Would do him no good. She was trying to help, he knew that. Before the time traveled, he probably greatly appreciated her support. If he had failed his O.W.L he would lose his right to his lordship. Meaning, his home, his future, his inheritance and would be fully reliant on his family for money. The Longbottoms had a strict criteria for the head of the household which no one believed he would make. Not even his gran.

Once he had heard her and his uncle discuss who would be next in line after him. Ella would. She was the eldest grandchild of his uncle and would take care of the estate after his uncle stepped out of acting Head. They all knew it. Neville was too much of a ‘squib’ to ever be the Lord of noble and Ancient House of Longbottom.

But things were different now, he didn't need to rely on his cousins treating him like a diseased baby to get by. He was plenty strong all by himself.

As Neville walked down the steps his strange dream was quickly melting to just that, a strange dream and Neville paid no mind to the uncomfortable buzz of panic bubbling in his gut.

“Look who it is,” a booming voice spoke. The middle child of the other branch of Longbottom House. Nathan. “My baby cousin,” he said, running to him and putting him in a choke hold before ruffling his hair. Nathan was 22 but was mentally 16 and still jobless.

“Let go of your cousin,” his gran said sharply.

“Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am,” he yelled. Before hiding behind his brother, avoiding Augustas handbag that had just been launched in his direction.

“When will you grow up,” Spoke the youngest out of the 3, Zak. He was possibly the most mature out of the three even though he was 21. Nat pushed his young out at his younger brother.

“Children, stop fighting, you might give your poor grandpa a heart attack,” Algie said with a laugh.

“Lies, you out live the lot of us,” Agusta grumbled.

“Hey! Neville is the only kids here. The rest of us are adults,” Nat cried out. technically everyone in that room was an adult since neville was roughly 21. Though he didn't feel it. Neville had caught himself being unimaginably childish the past few weeks which he could only attribute to hormones.

“Us maybe. But you're like 3 year old,” Ella said, annoyed. Nat looked like he was going to respond but Agusta gave them a sharp look and they all sat down quickly and quietly.

The lunch was delicious, each bite being flavourful he found himself showing the food in his mouth anyways rather than savoring it to avoid speaking.

He felt utterly suffocated.

Draco

He was uncomfortable. So very Uncomfortable. He did quite know what to do in the manor. As a child he would spend hours pouring his heart and soul into letters for his parents in the hopes that it would cut their trips short. He obsessed on every word, analyzed each and every punctuation but no matter how interesting or complex the little sea of writing he would produce his parents never came.

He wouldn't waste his time on that fruitless endeavor. And even if it did work he wouldn't do it now. He wasn't sure if he could face his parents yet. He was ashamed to admit it but he had grown to resent his father, in every way imaginable. And his mother, his occlumency remained strong for the few minutes they talked but anything longer he was sure he would break down and start begging for her to stay strong. To not abandon him. She wouldn't look kindly at that.

He had tried practicing quidditch but it was no fun with no Cassi to mess around with. He also tried reading the books that decorated his bedroom wall but there was almost entirely pureblood propaganda. So here he was lying lamely on his bed, almost consumed by pillows. Everywhere he went he had a sick sense of dread that Bella would jump him to have a tea party or maybe it would be his mother crying in a corner begging Draco not to fail. Or worse his father suggesting more ways the could regain the dark Lord's favor

He couldn't stand it. The house never liked him anyways, He wanted to leave, he needed to leave. But where to, he had no one.

“Grimmauld,” he said thinking out loud. He rushed towards his Hogwarts trunk, rifling through its contents until he found 3 items at the bottom. The letter from the Gringotts, a pouch of muggle money he used to buy cigarettes and lastly the stupid rule book. He had forgotten about it as it frustrated him to no end. He stared at it with pure hatred but still took it out with the other two items. He laid them on the floor and picked up the letter regarding Grimmauld place.

Dear Mr M. L. BLACK MALFOY,

We are pleased to inform you that your investments in the muggle world have been proven fruitful. However we have more exciting news regarding Grimmauld place. We have secured the right to the deed to be legally yours. We have enclosed the key as well as information to access the London Townhouse. Unfortunately we do not know the exact whereabouts. Please do not hesitate to contact us. You have proven to be a valued member of our bank.

May your vaults never be empty,

Nonon

Draco got up and grabbed his wand before transfiguring one of his more ugly travel bags to a backpack. It was a gaudy one his great aunt Walburga had gifted him for his second birthday, complete with an extension charm. He packed his bag with almost everything he could see, and everything in his trunk. He couldn't use the flu, an old place like that could have a damaged fireplace and he didn't fancy getting stuck in limbo.

He could walk to the bus stop half a mile away, which could take him to the train station where he could go to London. He had about 52 pounds in that pouch, that would be more than enough.

Or he could apparate. He'll have to get off the Malfoy property first to not set off alarms. And there still be a bit of a walk from the apparition point to Grimmauld as he wasn't quite certain where the house was.

He slung the backpack over his shouldering and made his way down the stairs. He caught himself in the mirror plastering the back wall of the corridor. He almost looked like a prim Pureblood heir. He had black slacks on, a white cashmere button up, and a green jumper to complete the look. His shoes were a polished pair of Oxfords walking boots and he had an assortment of silver rings.

But his hair ruined the picture. Wild and messy, with curls poking upwards. He looked like he was surfing. His parents would probably have a fit if they saw him like that, Lucious was always upset knowing that Draco had inherited the Black curly hair rather than the Malfoy sleek straight one. He would use taming potions to smooth and hide his hair in an attempt to look more like a malfoy.

He continued running through to the Manor until he made his way to the front doors. There was a small elf waiting with big brown eyes, in an old pillow case. Daisy. She had practically raised him and was honestly the only real parent he knew.

“Where are you going,” she said quietly. Draco didn't know how to answer. This was a mistake. She would tell his father about Draco almost running away, he would return from Russia and be punished in some sort of sick and twisted way. Was this bad enough for him to be sent to Durmstrang? He would leave Neville behind to deal with this mess. And it would be because he couldn't handle a few days in a Manor.

“Will you be safe,” she said. All Draco could do was lamely nod.

“Will you be back by yule,” he nodded. She frowned at that but said nothing.

“Go. Then. I'll make sure your father doesn't find out.” And then she stepped aside.

Draco took a few temperature steps before running out onto the gravel. It wasn't a sunny day, the clouds covering most of the sun but it was bright and not too cold.

It took ten minutes to walk out of the Malfoy estate where he found a mane road. And with a crack he was hiding behind a red phone booth in west London. The noise was the first thing to signify he was there. Loud car beeps, the sound of tires crushing on tarmac, mumbled conversation of pedestrians and a rather loud fight between two men.

Draco stumbled out of the nook and started to walk. He knew gruffly where he was going, he had been to the area before with his mother. Of course she had apparated then directly in front of the building. It took him 14 minutes of stumbling about and a very awkward conversation with a woman with a pram to find number 12 but he got there eventually.

It was very… muggle. He hadn't noticed it when he was 7 but it was an ordinary town house. Not something you would expect from a pureblood house, like the Blacks. From his bag he retrieved the ke6 and claimed the small steps to the door. From his bag he retrieved the key and placed it within the lock. With one turn the door opened. 

Chapter Text

Draco

The door opened slowly and quietly like someone from the inside was opening it. It was dark, pitch dark, only the light from the street illuminating the hallway enough for Draco to realize there were candles.

“Incendio,” he whispered and raised his hand, not bothering to use his wand. One by one the wax sticks lit up to illuminate a tomb of history. Harden wax dripping covered the metal holders, the carpet looked infested with dirt and bugs. There was an overall smell of decay and regret and not to mention how the magic felt dampent and strange. Almost like it's collected at the bottom like a thick blanket of resentment.

The floorboards creaked and croaked as Draco stepped on them, the walls were covered in a thick layer of grime and soot. This was not the house Draco remembered from his childhood. It was a corpse of what was once the Noble House of Black. He remembered polished wood, green walls and ceilings with the same charms as hogwarts. It was magic incarnate and it was beautiful. But now it screamed pure hopelessness.

A loud pop in front of him made Draco jump and there was an elf looking 5 minutes away from death.

“Young Mistress Cissa son,” he said with a croaky voice. “Draco”

“Yeah, um Sorry but who are you?” Draco asked as he really had no recollection who this elf was but he had a strange feeling that they've met before. He was Aware that Grimmauld would have at least one elf but pureblood elves would always wait to be called on

“I have been watching you for years,” he said darkly, almost disappointedly . Draco was stunned he didn't know how to respond other than blankly opening and closing his mouth like a fish. It was creepy by itself to be stalked by a house elf but Aunt Walburga had died years ago so it wasn't even her following his every foot step.

“Please forgive Creature,” the elf said before starting bawling. It was ugly crying, the type you on a soap drama. The elf calloused on the floor letting his tear puddle on the carpet. Draco didn't know what to do, on the one hand he wanted to comfort the elf in obvious pain but on the other hand the elf in question did just admit to stalking him.

His brain gave out and Draco hurried over and kneeled next to the shaking figure.

“Hey, It's okay, I forgive you, you're fine,” Draco said calmly, rubbing circles on the elf's back.

“Master Harry made creature do it,” he sobbed. Draco's hand paused and he felt a sick sense of dread fill his stomach making bile rise in his throat.

“What,” he choked out. Harry. Potter. Potter.

“Master Harry had ordered creature to follow you in your 6th year. He was sure of your were aiding the dark Lord, he wanted to know more,”

6th year? Potter? The dark lord. Draco breaths were starting to become erratic l. His mind feeling strongly light but his hands and feet couldn't move from the weight of themselves.

“He ordered creature to stop. I thought I was finally free from invading my lady's family privacy, but Master Harry became different,”

Draco's sight was darkening. Potter and Draco had only met once after his sentence. Straight after his trial, he wished him luck. Wait. No. That wasn't right. Draco's sight was fragmenting. Splitting. The only thing that was registering was the sound of the creature's voice.

“Master Harry became ill. Not in the body but in his mind. He was dead. One of his friends moved in, a blood traitor. He helped but it was temporary. Master Harry,” he hiccuped, “was looking for the next fret, something to make him feel alive, he made creature follow you again for months,”

Draco was going to throw up.

“It made Creature sick, see a Black struggle like you but Creature could tell you were happy. I had to tell Master Harry my findings. Creature don't know what happened but he ordered me away. He came back a day later drunk and angry. He never told creature to stop following you but he didn't ask for a report. Creature only wanted to make sure you were alive. Creature would check once a month. Last Time Creature checked on you'd muggle place, it was ransacked. Destroyed. Creature was so worried he popped to you but it wasn't you. It was young master Draco in his Hogwarts years. Creature has been so confused,” he sobbed.

Draco brought his hand to comfort the elf, rubbing His back. He couldn't hear. What was he doing before the jump? He couldn't remember. He couldn't pass his own walls.

Potter. Potter. Potter.

He had visited him once. At his book shop.

Draco stood up.

“I'll be back,” he choked, his voice feeling tight. He stumbled to the front door and opened it. A loud crack filled the hallway and Draco found himself on a quiet beach. Waves crashing down, children laughter in the distance and seagulls yelling. The long grass scratching against his shins and his shoes sinking into the shifting sand. He collapsed onto his knees, willing to tear not to fall.

He rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a pack and pulled out a cig and stared at it for a few seconds. He had even thought of having one.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there but his legs were numb and he had run out of cigs and the sun was setting. But he did finally feel calm. Calm enough to enjoy where he was. To be finally at home.

A figure cast a shadow over his face and Draco looked up.

“Tom?” Draco said without thinking. His surf instructor, Tom.

“Uh, No, that's my dad,” the figure said in an awkward tone. Draco blinked. He could see the difference now. Tom had graying hair, blue eyes and pale skin but this boy had hair Black hair, brown eyes and dark olive skin. But they had the same smile, the same warmth in their eyes.

Draco felt the tears start to fall. Tom. His Tom.

“Hey, hey um,” they boy said moving towards Draco, “um, I saw you from the shop and I um just thought um,” he paused, “you might want an ice cream?” He said unsure.

Draco stared at the boy who had just pulled a Magnum out of his pocket offering it up to him.

Draco gingerly accepted the ice cream.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice cracking. They boy looked around, standing in front of Draco nervously, unsure what to do. “Do you want to sit with me?” Draco asked.

“Uh yeah, Sure um. Sorry,” he said before sitting next to him.

“Sorry. I know you probably want to be alone. I got you the ice cream cause it was the end of my shift and I was already getting one and I know this sounds creepy but like I was watching the entire afternoon and you just looked so sad,” he said.

Draco just started laughing, the type of laughter that takes your body over, shaking and all.

“Ha, na you're cool. I guess I do look pretty sad,” Draco responded, taking a bite out his ice cream.

“Err, did you just bite it?” the boy said with disgust. Draco just shrugged. Tom said the same thing. It was after his first lesson and Draco had been thoroughly frustrated After being thrashed around and Tom had bought them ice cream from the shop. Draco had had ice creams before and Floreane but magnums were a new experience, it was like a brick and Draco just assumed you had to bite it.

“You're like your Dad,” Draco said, still chewing on his magnum.

“Really, no one ever said that before. We look pretty different. Everyone is always surprised when they find out we're related,” he said a little sadly. Draco examined the boy, he was probably about 14, maybe even 15. Tom must have had him young.

“Same eyes,”

The boy turned to Draco, confused.

“Are we talking about the same guy,” he said.

“Yeah, the surf instructor,” Draco.

“Huh,” the boy sighed, still looking confused, “ I'm Ali, by the way,” he said.

“Draco,”

“Like the stars,”

“Yeah my parents are hippies,” Draco said, trying not to laugh at his own joke.

They sat in a comfortable companionship. Draco was surprised that not a single time did the other boy try to ask about why he was crying. Instead Ali just talked about his shift at work with Draco and occasionally added his own stories.

It was dark now and Creature was probably worried sick. He needed to go back to Grimmauld and sort out his mind.

They sat in silence for almost half an hour, eating at their ice creams watching the last trace of sun vanish.

He stood up.

“Hey sorry, I need to go. I'll pay you back for the magnum,” Draco said apologetically.

“No, you're good. I can walk you home,” Ali said.

“No. I need to catch a train,”

“My dad can dropped you at the train station,”

“Really?” Draco responded without thinking. It was an instinct he developed in his adult life. He had never gotten his driver license so public transport or walking were his only option. So when any one even offered the luxury of a private car, he jumped at it.

“Yeah, I'll be right back.” And Ali ran off to the shop that Draco just realized was Tom's surf shop.

Draco knew he should apparate now, run away before questions were asked but he needed to see Tom. Needed to feel his home again, at least part of it.

Two figures walked up to Draco and there Tom was. He hair was blond and there were less wrinkles but it was no question

“How ya doing lad,” Tom said, raising his hand for a shake.

“Fine, thanks, you?” Draco responded.

“I'm doing great. Anyway Al tells me you need a ride. My cars just down there,”¹

They made there way to a yellow mini where Draco resisted the urge to punch someone and loudly proclaim ‘yellow car’

Tom in the front and the boys in the back, Tom started the engine.

“So you boys meet in school?” Tom asked from the front.

“No, um me and Draco just met,” Ali said shyly.

Draco could see Tom's expression change from the rear view mirror, a sort of panicked look mixed with awkwardness.

“You know lad you should be careful, herd of stranger danger?” Tom said from the front.

“Dad!” Ali whined.

“Yeah but your not a stranger, you use to teach me when I was younger,” it was technically not a lie

“Sorry lad for not recognising you. Still Surfe,” Tom said, relaxing once again.

“Not recently, I go to a boarding school,” Draco said off handedly

“Ah, really where?” a bit of ice to his voice. Draco had learnt over the course of their friendship Tom had a great distaste for boarding schools.

“Up in Scotland,” Draco answered

“They get narley waves up there. Me and the misses went there for our honeymoon,” the warmth had returned to his voice.

“You should surfe with Al, I can lend you a board.”

“I love to. I can come down tomorrow,” Draco had missed surfing so much. He couldn't wait to get back in the water.

“Yeah, just come to the shop, What do you say Al?”

“Um OK,” Ali said, quietly.

They spent the rest of the car ride chatting about places they had been surfing though Ali was a lot quieter than he had been earlier.

Once they reached the train station both Draco and Ali left the car.

“Sorry, my dad was pushy, you don't have to surfe with me if you don't want to,” Ali said in a whisper.

“No. I want to. Do you want to?” Draco asked.

“Yeah of course,” Ali answered, quickly.

“Cool, I'll see you tomorrow,”

Ali got back in the car and Draco waved them bye.

He waited a few minutes before apparating back to Grimmauld.

“Master Draco, You have returned! Creature has been worried sick,” the wrinkled elf cried.

“Sorry, sorry. I'm fine. I lost track of time. Is there a room I can sleep in?”

Neville

He was in the garden avoiding his family. Like always. Plotting new plants and shipments, killing weeds and cleaning. It was therapeutic in a way, being surrounded by so much magic. His magic had become a lot stronger but his wand still felt wrong. It was like running through water or trying to breathe in heavy rain.

“Neville my boy,” a cold voice said behind him.

“Uncle,” he answered. Algie was a spindly looking man with a neatly pressed pinstriped suit and black shoes shined to perfection. Not a single hair out of place. A plastic smile, that is what gran always said. A fake man with a fake smile. He bever understood the mutale distaste that his grandmother and great-uncle shared. Even at his funeral she a sever look of hatred.

“You have such a talent for plants, shame it doesn't translate into your magic,” it was cruel but that was uncle algie. He was blunt. “Your father's wand. Still working?”

Neville picked up his wand, almost with a deathly grip, he had never quite forgiven himself for its breakage.

“Yes,” Neville said confidently.

“Good, Good, remember you must never let it break, that's your father's,” Algei said.

“I'm promise uncle,”

The man smiled and left Neville alone in the garden.

Alone.

Once again.

“Huh, I wonder how Draco is doing?”

Chapter Text

Draco

He woke up early. Something was different. Stranger. Brighter? Draco had slept on the sofa in the living room not daring to venture into any of his family rooms. He had thought it was windowless, but maybe the curtains had been so long shut they melted into the wall because as soon as Draco opened his eyes the room was filled with blinding sunshine. The walls were different, a soft blue, decorated with flowers. Snowdrops. The skirting board was clean, the doors were a brassy gold, the floor a chestnut brown. There were paintings of flowers, meadows, plants and mountains adorned the walls. The sofa was a bright sky blue and plush, a far cry from the leather peeling mess he fell asleep on the night before.

Grimmauld

It was alive. Not just in its appearance but magic. What was once a dormant heap of damp residue was now a loud fountain of ancient magic that has finally been awoken. Even the air was cleaner.

“Kreature?” Draco croaked out.

A pop and the elf was there. He stood there for a second, wide eyes blinking uncomfortably, and then he started crying.

“Mistress Wilburga, have you returned? Are you here,” he questioned, looking around dazed, “your magic is back. Nasty Sirius had left your guilt!” he almost cheered as if he was praising the Lords.

“Kreature” Draco reiterated. Big round eyes focused in and all of a sudden Kreature world came crashing down, disappointed painted so disgustingly clearly on his face but only for a heart beat. His eyes soften, tearfully.

“You're a Black. Just like my Mistress,” he said, “a blood traitor yes, but maybe that's for the best,” he said with a strange mix of dissatisfaction and pure relief.

“What happened,” Draco stumbled out.

“You are the Lord of the house.It is trying to please you,” he said.

Many old pureblood estates developed a personality over the centuries due to all the excess of magic though they were loyal only to the monarch of the house . Malfoy Manor had only ever listened to his father though on occasion it rearranged the corridors to keep his father “friends” from finding him.

It was Magic. Pure magic. And it was left to rot.

“I'm going out today,” he said almost in a whisper. Kreature nodded and popped out of existence.

Draco stumbled up, his clothes crumpled and creased. There were red golds in arms and his shoulder ached. He had nothing to wear as he only brought a few clothes that were definitely not swim appropriate in his haste. No time to go out shopping. He could buy a pair of swimming trunks at Tom's shop but it would be weird if he rocked up in a button down and slacks. Tom And Ali must have thought he was strange enough.

“There must be some clothes in this house,,” he said, walking out of the room. The hallway, much like the living room, had metamorphosed to fit Draco taste. Apparently that was blue walls with random accents of orange.

“Wow,” Draco said. He would have to examine the rest of the house in more detail when he returned. Was this what his mind was like, he wondered as he walked up the stairs. Messy, disorganized, bright, colorful. He had always imagined himself to be neat, tidy and pragmatic. He thought that was at least the one thing he inherited from his father.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE. WHAT HAS HAPPENED. MY HOUSE. MY HOUSE. IS THAT YOU SIRIUS, HAVE YOU COME TO EXACT YOUR REVENGE. KILLING YOUR BROTHER WASN'T ENOUGH. YOU HAVE TO DESECRATE OUR FAMILY HOME. I LET YOU LEAVE, I LET YOU LEAVE ON THE CONDIT-”

A shriek. A cry. A storm of words bombarded draco ears forcing him to cast a splicing spell. He covered his ears too. Bella. No. It was deeper, raspier, older. Aunt Walburga. He raised his head and at the top of the stairs was a small portrait of the woman still shouting though no noise escaped.

He hurried the rest of the way up the stairs. She was still shouting but when she caught a glimpse of Draco her expression muted. She began again but with a stronger heat. Draco transfigured a cloth from part of the curtain nearest to him and draped it over the woman.

Quiet.

He turned to his left to meet something familiar. It was cleaner yes but the same corridor of The Black children bedrooms . Olive green walls, black trimming and the ceiling reflecting the night sky. Stars.

Gold name plates hung proudly on the doors:

• Do Not Enter Without The Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black
• Sirius
• Bellatrix's Property: Do not enter
• Only for the eyes of Andromeda Black
• Narcissa. D. Black

Under each name there was a constellation depicting their names sake, all except his mother where there were daffodils.

He entered the one with the dog star. From his mother's stories, he remembered that Sirius was a free spirit or in other words a blood traitor. It was a miracle he was disowned as late as he did. Fortunately that meant that Draco could borrow some muggle clothes. Who knows he might even have something good hidden in there.

When he stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was the mess of pictures on the wall. It was like a wallpaper of living pictures and letters, not a single inch left uncovered. One of the slightly larger pictures stood out. A red haired woman, pretty, with following locks smiled widely holding a little baby boy on a broomstick, and a tall dark skinned man holding the woman in a tight embrace. They were all laughing. The Potter he supposed. They were so young. He must have been the same age as them now. 21.

They had started a family so young, died so young. He couldn't possibly imagine raising a child at that age, he still felt like a child. Especially during a war. The people in the picture continued to smile even though Draco frowned intensified. Another picture, next to it, had two boys 21 probably sitting on grass looking out at the camera. Sirius and Lupin.

“God is he sexy,” Draco whispered. “Maybe that's why he doesn't like me,” Draco thought aloud, “he knows and doesn't want me to get him fired,” he turned to look in the mirror. And then back to the picture. And then back to the mirror.

“Oh,”

He was a Black. You didn't even have to know Narcissa's heritage to see that. He looks like Sirius. Down to the bone. He looked like the man Lupin thought took his whole world.

He quickly put those thoughts to rest and opened the wardrobe. It was almost empty. But there were some jeans, a t-shirt, leather jacket and surprisingly a pair of fairly new trainers.

He grabbed them and placed them on the bed before turning towards the bathroom to have a shower.

He wondered if the house would create him a room by the time he returned.

It was not just style. A little too goth but it'll do. He was tugging at the jeans as he made his way down the beach to Tom's Surf shop and opened the door.

“Draco,” Tom voice said before the door even closed.

“Hi, How are you… sir?” He trailed of not quite sure if he should refer to Tom as Tom like he did before.

“Tom, call me Tom,” he laughed.

“OK, Tom, is Ali here?” Draco asked.

“Yes I'll just get him, got your swim cosi though? Mighty cold out here, might need a swimsuit,” Tom said.

“Um actually,” Draco tried to sound nonchalant, “I was hoping to buy both of those today, I've outgrown mine,” he finished easily lying.

“Of course, I'll give you a discount. They're right over there, I'll be back with Al” he said.

Draco smiled and made his way easily to the swimming costumes. He didn't particularly care for the trunks so he grabbed the nearest one, a blue one. Draco always wore a swimsuit, even though he could cast a warming charm. He needed to cover his scars. His mark. It Made him feel safer. But he never liked it. The fabric made his scars itch, it was too tight, too restrictive. And worst of all his magic could do a better job. But he still wore it.

Only with the swimming trunks in hand he turned to the register. A teenager no, older than 15 was behind it looking as bored as some would reading a magazine.

“Just this, please,” he said.

Without looking up she said “7. 50, would you like a 10p bag?”

“No I'm alright, Here you go,” handing her the cash from his pocket.

“Is there a place I can change?”

She lifted her hand and pointed to the back where the changing rooms were.

Draco wasted no time

He was out of his cousin's clothes in an instant and immediately felt more comfortable.

“Draco!” Al said smiling. He was holding a board, blue twice the size of him and next to him his father held a bubble gum pink one.

“Hi, is that one mine for the day?’

“ sure is,” Tom smiled, “I see you boys later, Draco your welcome for tea,”

“Bye Kitty!” Ali said, directing It to the girl at the register who didn't even look up when she said.
“Bye,”

They made their way down to the shore where Ali abruptly stopped.

“Wow, the pretty big today,

Draco ran. The water tickled his feet, cold but he didn't care. He started swimming towards the sky. Carefully he paddled on his board, he sat up watching as a wave went in size, hurtling towards him. He jumped.

He was flying. Higher and higher as the wave reached its peak and slowly descended. His heart was racing and his smile grew, painfully wide. This was much better than quidditch. His heart stopped in his chest and then he slipped off falling into the water.

He swam up to his board and climbed on.

“Bloody hell, give us a chance,” Ali said, who had followed Draco into the water. He was smiling.

“I guess I'm rusty,” Draco said, a little embarrassed.

“Rusty!” The other yell indignantly, “your having a laugh,”

They both started laughing on the water.

Neville

“Oh children Please hurry up,” Neville’s grandmother yelled. All of the Longbottoms except one were gathered in the sitting room next to the flu.

“Where is that boy,” Agusta yelled, his annoyance clearly painted across her face in fine lines.

“He'll be down in a minute, Augy,” Algei said.

“Not good enough, you've been far too soft with Nathan,” She said exasperatedly.

Algei just shook his head with a slight smile. Loud thudding came from the corridor as the middle child ran through the door.

“IM HERE,” he yelled out, to meet the distasteful eyes of Augusta Longbottom. “Sorry,”

She sniffed and looked away.

“Polite. Proper. Perfect. I don't want to hear a single thing wrong when we visit Mimmy. She may be a family friend but you will treat her with the same respect you'll treat any seamstress,” Agusta said in a cool calm voice.

Algie stared at her with far off eyes and a heavy frown.

“Hmm. Listen to your aunt,” he said to his grandchildren. Neville stood awkwardly to the side. “Nathan you first,”

Nathan walked up to the fireplace grabbing a handful of green Powder before stepping inside.

“Madam Malkins,” he shouted.

And with a poof of green fire the boy vanished.

“Neville, you next,” Augusta said

He stepped inside

“Madam Malkins,”

He stumbled out where his cousin was already chatting animatedly with a seamstress at the register.

Before long the entirety of the long bottom house was there, ready to buy the Yule robes.

“Augy!” An old woman walked quickly towards his grandmother.

“Mimms,” His grandmother responded in a warm tone. Augusta and Mirmim had been close friends since Hogwarts and Malkins had been dressing the Longbottoms ever since.

“Let's get started,”

He was hurried over to a corner where a younger worker started taking his measurements. She was the same woman who had first fitted him for all his yules since he was 7. Waist. Arms. Leg. Neck. Hips. She was wrapping the tape measure around every part of Neville, writing down the measure on a small piece of paper.

If Neville remembered correctly, Parkinson was hosting Yule this year. What was the theme this year?

“You've grown,” the woman said.

“Oh, um thank you,” Neville responded awkwardly.

“So you excited for Yule, I always wanted to go but you know,” she said smiling, now looking at some fabrics swatches, “not pure blood,”

Neville looked up at that. “Oh, um Sorry. If the Longbottoms get chosen, I'll be sure to invite you,” he said.

She gave him a funny look. Not hatred, no but something close. Very close. Hatred burned, but this glowed red. The thought of hatred, something that will fall and cooled if not fanned.

Neville suddenly became quite aware of himself, and how much he was breathing.

“Haha, you better,” she smiled. Washing away the strange look. “So the theme this year I believe is royalty. Here are some swatches. This one is the one your uncle picked out.” She handed him a bright ruby red square of fabric. It was stiff and reminded him of his auror uniform.

“You don't like it?” She asked. He looked up.

“No,” he said confidently, “I don't,”

Underneath was a soft fabric, soft velvet, of a midnight blue, almost black.

“This, I like this,” he said handing her the square.

“Huh, this was meant to be the accent color. But I suppose I could swap them around. You are still matching with your family. OK yeah I'll do that. It'll arrive to you in a few days by owl,” she told him. Already leading him to his family.

“Thank you…” he didn't know her name.

“You are very welcome,” she told him.

“It was lovely seeing you, we need a girl night out augy. Minnie could come too,” Madam Malkin said.

“Alright children, off we go before your great aunt decides she doesn't want to leave,” Algie said in a joking tone. He was leaning on his cane heavily, and Nathan was there next to him, looking quite put out.

They left quickly. And Neville couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a mistake.

“I'm off upstairs to write to Minerva,” Augusta said before striding off to her wing of the manor.

“What's up with you,” Zach said to his older brother.

“That seamstress! She was so Err. You know!” Nat said waving his arms around

“No I don't know,” Zach Responded.

“So muggleish,” he said finally.

“Nathaniel, you can't say that!” Ella yelled at her.

“You can't say anything anymore,” he yelled.

“Cousin, it is slightly purist,” Neville said gently.

“Arrg! Even Neville telling what to do!” He shouted before running off.

“Leave him,” Algie said, “ he'll simmer off. In his defense that woman was quite rude,”

“I don't think that's an excuse uncle,”

“Your generation,” he shook his head.

Chapter Text

Draco

“How do you not know who Father Christmas is,” Alex said with thick judgment. She had just given him a parcel wrapped in red pepper with a repeating pattern of an old man with a snowy beard.

“I never celebrated Christmas,” Draco said calmly. He was quite frankly a little offended by the ire in her voice. As if something was wrong with him.

“You're so weird,” she stared at him.

“No, I'm just not Christian, I celebrate Yule instead” he said, passing her a present wrapped in snowy paper that may have been slightly enchanted.

“Oh, what's Yule like,” Alex asked excitedly.

“Magical,” Draco said wistfully. “And a lot of dancing,”

“Would you show me?”

Draco placed down his present and opened his arms up for Alex to grab. Following his example she placed her present down and clasped his hands. Draco brought one of her hands to his shoulder and grabbed her waist. They started twirling. Magical dances had not set rules, you let the magic flow. It was your guid for all dances, no point in speaking. He twirling her and danced with her and for a second he was back home, with magic and his parents.

“Do you want to come home with my family this Christmas? You could learn about Christmas and I could learn about Yule,” she said gently mid spin.

“I have work,” he said,

“Dray, I'm worried. The breaks in have been more frequent. I don't want you alone in the house,”

“I'll be fine, besides now I know how to use a toaster. I won't starve,”.

“Please don't electrocute yourself while I'm away,” she said, “ and if you need any help or don't know how to do something, just call, you remember how to use a phone right and I've put my house number next to the landlin-”

A knock on the door sounded loudly through the thin walls of the flat.

Draco woke up with a start. He was in his room. His Room. Grimmauld had placed it at the top, in the attic or what was once the attic, it was small much smaller than Sirius’ but how he loved it. It was warm and cozy and had a door right to the roof of the building. He would sometimes just lay there listening to the traffic down below. It also meant that he could smoke without smoking his room up.

It was lovely and he had to leave it today. Turning to face the clock to his left, 7 AM.

He had to be at the manor at 10AM. Well before either of his parents would arrive from their trips. 3 hours. 3 hours of freedom.

He showered, dressed, put on his rings and made his way down to the kitchens to make himself some cereal.

“Master Draco, you have gifts,” Kreature rasped (he looked a lot healthier).

Draco dropped his spoon, milk splashing everywhere. His “friends” would have sent it to Malfoy Manor for his permits to inspect to make sure it was appropriate.

“From who,”

“It appears from the same people you send presents to personally, Minus Mr Longbottom.”

On the table were four present. Cassi, Tori, Luna and Cedric. Of course he had ‘sent’ his other friends presents but they were hardly personal, he didn't even pick them out himself but that was the norm for purebloods. However he couldn't imagine being so impersonal to people he was fond of. Well except for Blaise. His mother was always the best for finding him presents.

They had gotten him presents, really presents.

He opened cedrics first. Draco had gotten him a mountain of Batman comics and a necklace. Draco wasn't quite sure on why he settled on Batman but it felt right and Alex had spoken about it often enough that he knew that Cedric would probably like it.

He unwrapped it and in was a simple silver bracelet and a note.

Dear Draco,
Happy Yule!!!

I hope you like it. It's charmed so it can reduce motion sickness when flying. I notice all the tricks you do and I thought it could be useful!

He immediately wrapped it around his wrist. It was beautiful and matched his rings perfectly. Cedric had put effort into this gift and Draco now felt slightly bad for just getting him Batman comics.

“Oh well, I'll make it up to him,”

Next was Cassi. Draco had gifted him a signed Mcrighty quidditch uniform and a snitch. It was a bitch to track down but he got there in the end he had found it. Now he felt really bad for cedric.

He opened the present.

Dray!!!!
Happy Yule mate.

A small box.

The potioneer travel phials.
For trapping Ingredients on the go

Shrinkage vials. Very expensive, very useful.

Cassi knew him well.

He had given Tori, Pride And Prejudice as well as a very ornate necklace to replace the one he took. He hopes this mat sway her to muggle life a little quicker.

Dray Dray.

Happy Yule.

I can't wait to see you at the yule ball, papa help me pick this out for you. I was going to get you a necklace but I know you already have one with your secret lover. And then I was going to get you earrings but you're a guy so that won't work . Sooooo I bought a hair pin. Your hair is getting long like Lucious. Well not like Lucious. It's only slightly long. Long Enough to get in your eyes.

Anyways daddy says it super classy. And it's enchanted. Doesn't fall out.

Happy Yule.

It was pretty. A small star to clip his hair.

Lastly Luna.

He had gotten her a pair of heart shaped earrings that he enchanted to change colors and patterns. He was always good at charms.

Draco.

Thank you for being my friend.

A knife. She had gotten him a knife. It was a very pretty knife. But a knife nonetheless.

Opal.

Very good for ceremonies and rituals.

Luna was a funny girl

Neville

His parents were sleeping softly. Next to each other. He was relieved he didn't have to have empty eyes. He placed one hand over his mother and felt her warmth. He tried to imagine how it would feel like for her to hug him. Kiss him on the forehead. Tell him she is proud of him. Stand next to him when he gets married.

Would she approve of his future wife? Or husband.

Maybe she would say ‘welcome to the family’ and bring them a tight hug. Or maybe she'll give them the family ring. He could imagine it now. She would hug him. Grab his pale hand and place the ring on his finger. The middle finger where he kept no rings. And she would tuck a piece of blond hair behind his ear and kiss him on the cheek. His father would say he was proud.

“ you can't ask the boy that,” his gran yelled at a nurse.

“What is it gran,” Neville asked.

“Nothing,” she said pointedly at a medi-witch, “we are leaving now,” she said to Neville.

His parents were sleeping softly. Next to each other. He was relieved he didn't have to have empty eyes. He placed one hand over his mother and felt her warmth. He tried to imagine how it would feel like for her to hug him. Kiss him on the forehead. Tell him she is proud of him. Stand next to him when he gets married.

Would she approve of his future wife? Or husband.

Maybe she would say ‘welcome to the family’ and bring them a tight hug. Or maybe she'll give them the family ring. He could imagine it now. She would hug him. Grab his pale hand and place the ring on his finger. The middle finger where he kept no rings. And she would tuck a piece of blond hair behind his ear and kiss him on the cheek. His father would say he was proud.

“ you can't ask the boy that,” his gran yelled at a nurse.

“What is it gran,” Draco asked.

“Nothing,” she said pointedly at a medi-witch, “we are leaving now,” she said to Neville.

He looked at the mirror and a devastating sight looked back.

He had made a mistake. A terrible mistake. 11AM. No time. No time at all to replace the absolute horror he was wearing. Wrapping around his body cruelly was robes that made him look like a Prince. A real Prince. He had just tried on his Yule robes when he got back from mungo and…

He remembered this day from his first time around. Instead of the midnight blue that made him look as if he was handsome, he was wearing a Ruby red that stained his cheeks a permanent shade of red.

He was going to have to explain this to his family. He is going to have to explain why he is the only one in blue whilst in red.

“Neville!” His grandmother screamed, “Make haste boy. ” she yelled out.

That only added to his absolute embarrassment.

“Neville,” a loud crack of a door banging against a wall made his eyes tear their attention away from the mirror.

Agusta. She looked elegant but severe.

And shocked.

“You look lovely,” she said dumb founded.
“Alice,” she said, “you have her looks, thank Merlin,” she laughed. “And father's height. Little bean stalk he was."

She walked towards him. Fixing his robes and saw the chain on his neck. She pulled the pendant out and centered it on his chest.

“Someone sweetheart now Neville?,” he blushed. “We need to go now, your cousins are waiting,” she said gently.

“Looking good, Cuz” Nathan said to Neville as soon as he saw him. Nathan was in a royal red robe that made him look like a general. Zac and Ella were elegant as well. Ella in a beautiful dress that flowed and she had roses in her hair whilst Zac looked like some king from a foreign land.

“Aww don't you look darling. Our prince,” Algie Said. He looks like a Duke.

“Everyone, hands on the portkey.” Agusta commanded, placing her hand on a broken chair. They followed her image.

He was going to be sick. He hated portkeys more than anything. They were outside Parkinson Manor in their forest garden.

“Agusta,” Mr Parkinson said with a familiar sickly sweet voice. “Welcome. Algie. These must be your Grandchildren. Aren't they grown ,” he smiled at Neville's cousin. “I believe Pansy the same year as little Neville. Am I correct,”

“Yes sir,” Neville said coolly, “Pansy is quite a lively present at school,” Neville said sharply. Mr Parkinson chuckled

“Isn't she? Such a sweet girl. Agusta, have you thought about marriage contracts?”

Neville blanched. Absolutely not. He would never wed the BULLDOG of a girl.

“No sorry sal. Longbottoms have a standing tradition of love matches,”

“Quante. I remember Alice and Frank. What a charming couple,” he smiled, “I regret to leave you but other guest must be attended,” and then he was off.

“Alright gentlemen and Ella, into the lion's cage we go,” Algie said.

Once they entered, Neville was reminded why the Parkinson were chosen. White snowy walls. Beauty incarnate. The yule log glowing red as centerpiece to the magnificent display of pure unadulterated magic. There Were servants dressed in various animal masks floating around to serve each and every royal blood in the ballroom. They were at the top of the ballroom stair looking into the room.

He spotted the pug parkinson chatting in a gaudy ¹pink dress. It made her look like a child.

“The Most Ancient And Noble House of Longbottom.” A servant in a lion mask yelled. And the family descended the stair. Neville was ushered to the children section of the ball where they would most likely stay for the rest of the evening.

Most of them were already there.

Lavender and her sister
Patil twins
Crabbe
Goyle
Zabini
Nott
Bulstrode and her older brother
Parkinson and her younger brother
Greengrass sisters
Ernie Mcmillan
Susan bones
Hannah Abott
Cassius Warrington
Adrien Pucey
Cedric Diggory

And many more children he did not care to name. Draco wasn't here. Was he late?

“Neville,” Hannah Greeted, “you look nice,” she mumbled. He only just noticed that the group had just gone quiet with varying degrees of shock.

He didn't look that different.

“Uh. Longbottom uuh welcome,” she managed to croak out. Neville made a face.

“Thanks,”

“You look great man, very princely,” Cedric said. Neville smiled.

“Tha-”

“The most Ancient And Noble House of Malfoy,” the lion masked yelled out.

Draco.

Neville turned his head with a snap.

There he was with his parents. Draco was dressed in light powder blue robes that made his skin look ethereal. His hair was curly and loose. Their pedant was on full display. He flowed like the sea. He didn't look like a prince. No. He was God.

A God that was approaching him.

“Don't you clean up nice, Longbottom,” He said once he got to the children.

Longbottom. He had called him Longbottom. Not Neville.

“You look pretty,”

“I was going for handsome,” Draco said resignedly.

Nott snorted. “Theo. What's The matter? Forget to dress up?” Draco said with out missing a beat. “Thank you for inviting me Pansy. The ball is lovely,”

“Y-y-y- your w-w-wlecome. Draco,” Draco smiled confusedly and nodded.

“Cool, i'm going to get something to eat,” Draco said.

“I'll come with you, I'm starved.” Diggory said.

“Same,” Warrington announced.

And the three left.

“Wow,” Mcmillan said, voicing all their thoughts.

The night carried on pretty uneventfully. He stared at Draco alot though. The boy was so pretty. Handsome. Would you be both?

He swe Draco talk with a man at some point. Animatedly.

Neville left early with his cousins around 12:30 when most of the children had been sent home.

Just before he left he bumped into a tall towering man. Lucious Malfoy.

"Sorry, Mr Malfoy,"

"No harm done," he said softly, "yell me how are your parents," he asked with mock concern, eyes glinting with glee.

Nebille blood turned to ice. Ella a ushered him away whispering some words of comfort.

Lucious. How draco was the spawn of that man, he couldn't phanom.

When he arrived at his room the was a package on his bed.

My dearest Sun.

From you loyal flower.

Draco. He hadn’t gotten Draco a yule present.

“Shit,” he had sworn. The first time he had sworn in months.

He furiously unwrapped the paper and a little plant stood there quietly.

²Belladonna

He held his necklace and thought.

Thank you

Chapter Text

Draco

He had spent the rest of the winter in a trance. Barely getting out of bed. Just sleeping. The only time he could muster up anything was to surf. He had bought a board, a pink one for cheap from Al and Tom. Sometimes he surfed with them but mostly he apparated to remote beaches in Scotland where the wind was high and furious.

He likes the cold. And the waves. They forced him to stop thinking of his father. His father's cold face. Hate. Hatred. That was what he felt for Lucious Malfoy. His sickly smooth voice, long combed hair and an unchanging grin of malic made Draco cringe in revulsion. Of course he hadn't always hated his father, he loved once. No love wasn't the right word. Draco revered him. Lucious was a God. Draco supposed he was,at least to him, Lucious controlled every part of his son's life. What he looked like, how styled his hair, how he dressed, his friends, his opinions, his likes and dislikes. Everything. He was still a God in Draco's eyes right until his fifth year.

And then the illusion started to crack. His strings were cut. Draco saw his father for what he was. A man who flew too close to the sun. There was still love. Love enough for him to try and Kill Dumbledore.

The hate didn't start until later. Too late. A good deal after the war was done and his hate was useless.

It started off as dissatisfaction for the man when he still responded to Lucious' letters. When the letter still had some sense in them. But as the diatribes on the nasty muggles got more violent and inane the hatred cultivated. He had stopped responding entirely when, from his prison cell Luscious made a sonnet off how Draco should resurrect the dark lord.

It was awfully slow. His hate. In some faraway corner of Draco mind he was conscious of the idea that Lucious had never been a good man… or father. And in that little far away place Draco knew that he should have hated the man from his childhood. But he didn’t.

“Master Draco,” Kreature popped in, “you must be leaving now, the hogwarts express will leave in a hour,”

He didn't want to go to school.

He didn't want to face the choices he needed to make.

Neville would be there, he mused. That boy with honey coloured hair and warm eyes. He could talk to Neville, he needed to talk to Neville. Tell him about how he met Schieler Mew, one step closer in defeating the dark lord. And he just wanted to see him. His necklace had remained painfully cold through the break and Draco wondered if Neville had taken off his.

He needed to talk to Dumbledore.

“Master Draco,” Kreature called out, “please hurry, the train will leave, kreature couldn't bear it if Master Draco parents were to be informed of your tardiness,”

Wouldn't that be a fright, his Mother, in France and Father, in Germany getting a portkey all the way back to England to grill him on his tardiness.

Slowly Draco shifted himself to the bathroom and almost forgot to take his clothes off before turning the water on in the bathtub. It was scolding, the water, making his skin go red and cheeks flush with color.

“I don't understand why our parents can't just apparate us to Hogsmeade,” Daphne sighed, as she climbed off of the carriage. Blaise helped Draco down by offering his arm. Gray eyes fixed heavily on the skeleton horse, Thestrals.
“Can you see-” Blaise tried to whisper but theo interrupted him.

“It's those stupid Mudbloods faults,” he whined, “muggles can't enter Hogsmeade so we have to go to London.”

“So why can't the mudbloods ride the train themselves and we get apparated?” Pansy asked.

“Dumbledore stupid unity or whatever,” Blaise commented, seemingly forgetting Draco for the moment.

As they trudge along to Hogwarts, in the already dark sky. Draco day dreamed, he was already missing the freedom and the peace of muggle London, something about the castle's grounds always made him feel trapped, scared. Maybe it was the long walk through the forest to the nearest apparition point or the thoughts of anyone he accidentally looked into the eyes of. He wasn't disliked by the student body, In fact he was quite popular but there was always an undercurrent of otherness. He was Malfoy, not a classmate. It could be worse most people looked at Neville with deep pity and Potter… well, the emotion was always extreme. Good or bad.

A few moments later Draco found himself in the great hall, waiting, hungrily looking at the empty plates, ignoring Dumbledore speech about something or others. Food, food, food. He was so hungry.

And The old man shut his mouth and a good old fashioned roast appeared.

“Draccoooo, Dracooooo,” a slow voice whispered in his ear from the left.

“Draco!” a yell from his right.

“What?” He snapped back.

“Stopppp Day dreaming about your girlfriend and pay attention to this girl…friend?” Historia whispered-shouted, trailing off at the end as she realized what she was saying.

“Awws is wildle ickle Tori jelly,” cassi spoke from his left.

“Noooo, for your information Draco is not my type, Too much of a dumb blond for my likings. I likes a gir-guy”’ she stuttered, “a guy,” she reiterated, wrapping her tongue around each sound as if she was unfamiliar with the word.

“Nice save,” Draco mouthed.

Tori swatted him away and continued, “ a guy, who is athletic, brave, kind, a mind of he-his own and well obsessive but only with me,” she said dreamily.

“So Harry Potter?” Cassi said with a cat like grin.

“Ewww, No,” Tori responded, “what do you search for in a spouse?”

“Umm let's see, umm Nice tit's,” Cassi said nonchalantly, “and can cook,”

“You'll never find a wife,” Draco said, mouth full of potato.

“Neither will you, with those table manners,” Cassi said slightly disgusted.

“That's not true Draco has girlfriend,”

“Tori, I don't have a girlfriend,” draco sighed.

“Draco, a girlfriend??? Really?,” Cassi said with fake barvato.

Turning to look Cassi in the eye, swallowing the last bit of roast he opened.his mouth, “I don't have a girlfriend,” the annunciation each word.

“Morgana’s tit's you do,” Cassi said incredulously. “What poor girl did you trick—”

Draco gave him a withering look, with as much resentment he could muster for his idiot friend.

“Fine, fine,” he raised his hands up to show that he gave up , “but if you were to have a girlfriend, what she like,” cassi smiled conspiratorially to Tori

Draco remained quiet.

“Pretty Please,” Tori wined.

“Fine,” he moaned. Raising his head to look across the hall, “I suppose of I were to date any one, they would have to be Mature, kind, good with kids, strong sense of self and nice eyes,”

“Harry potter?” Cassi said with all seriousness.

“No, he said mature,” Tori argued.

“Are they in Ravenclaw?”

Draco slumped, knowing they won't let this one go.

Neville

“What got you so grouchy Neville,” his grandmother said by way of announcing her presents as she walked into the Longbottom greenhouses.

“Nothing gran,” he was potting his Draco gift into a different pot to ensure growth.

“My, what a pretty flower. Belladonna, your mother like that plant. I think it was her favorite, who gave it to you?” She said calmly.

“I bought it,” Neville said, calmly ir he tried to say it calmly. It came out cold. Sharp.

“Oh, so not your faithful flower then?” she said bring out a letter from her pocket.

“Gran!” He said trying to grab the parchment.

“I never thought you go through a rebellious faze,” she sighed, “my sweet boy already gone. You use to tell me everything,”

A pang of guilt went through his gut.

“You can tell me anything,”

No he can't. He couldn't.

“No, OK. I'll wait until you can. Until then, use protection,” she said, making her way to the door.

What?

“I don't want to be a great granma Just yet,”

What!!!!

“Im… Thirteen!!!” He shouted almost saying 21.

“That didn't stop me,” she said, “and stop leaving things you want to keep secret on the floor, i had to confiscate this from your cousin,” she said pointing to Draco’s letter.

And she left, Neville red faced.

Luna was a funny girl. A kind and lovely but strange. Very strange.

He was picking at his food only half listening to Ron and Mione argue, too focused on lunas words from their train ride here.

“Can I be the flower girl at you and Draco's marriage?”

What possessed her to say such a thing. As if they would ever get married. It was ridiculous. And even if one day they got married by some force outside their control, he doubts he has any say in the wedding preparations. That was more Draco things. Plans. He was very good at plans, Draco.

“Neville,” Harry poked him in his side.
“Yeah what's up?” Neville said a little flustered, not entirely sure why.

“What do you know about Malfoy?”

“Draco?,” Neville felt his ear start to go red. Why was Harry of all people asking him about DRACO? did he hear Luna or maybe he read his mind. Oh mer what was he supposed to say.

“Yes, Draco Malfoy, it's just that,” he leaned into whisper, “I think he has something to do with Black,”

Oh phew, it's just Harry weird obsession with Malfoy.

“Um well,” Neville tried to think of something to say that wouldn't make him seem like he was defending Draco but also make Harry drop his Draco/Sirius team theory. “He probably isn't Harry. I mean, working with, black. He isn't that type of smart. He like Hermione in a way. Heaps of intelligence but doesn't quite know how to use it. Besides if he was helping Black, he be bragging,”

“Hmm, OK that does make sense, but like do you know anything more about him, your a pure blood, you must of had parties with him or something?”

“Personality?”

Harry nodded.

“He's very smart, hard working, um good at insults,”

“I know that, do you know like personal stuff. What is his relationship like with his friends,”

“He likes some of them,” Neville responded flatly. He knew that for a fact. How Draco could stand any of them was a mystery to him. Especially Cassius. Right arrogant Pig.

“What do you mean by some?”

“I mean, that some are his actual friends and some are just who Lucious wants him to be friends with,” Neville trailed of. He was starting to get uncomfortable.  “Look Harry, I really don't much about him,”

“That's OK Neville,” Harry turned to Ron, actively ignoring Hermione. Oh he forgot Harry picked Ron side in third year.

“I'm gonna use the map to find more info on Malfoy,” he whispered so Muone couldn't hear.

Map? What map?

oh

The marauders Map

Fu-

Chapter Text

Draco

She was sniffing beside him. Her wild curls hanging loosely infront of her eyes that were obviously wet with unshed tears. There were only 10 minutes left of arithmancy before Draco could bolt and forget about Granger having a mental break down next to him. He felt kind of bad for her, she had no friends in that class, well unless kind count Patil who was another Gryffindor however he wasn't sure Patil even liked Granger.

Trying to ignore her he looked at the message on his necklace.

My sweet winter flower.

Oh how romantic, a complete contrast to the message Neville sent him before.

MEET IN ROR AT 2AM. DO NOT, AND I MEAN THIS DRACO, DO NOT GO TO THE ROR BEFORE I SEND YOU A MESSAGE THAT THE COAST IS CLEAR AT 1:55. I'LL EXPLAIN LATER . REPLY IF YOU GOT THIS.

Neville was so dramatic. What possibly could be so dangerous about going to the room of Requirement but he'll respect Neville’s wishes. He sighed leaning his face on his hand and stared

Her eyes were a soft warm, like the soil under a sunflower or the color of fine leather. Her eyes. He saw her eyes. He tried to turn his head but it was too late. Oh dear Merlin Her thoughts were a fury of heartache and betrayal. It hurt

“Granger?” He whispered gently.

“What, Malfoy,” she whispered back aggressively

Why did he say that? He just felt so bad. She reminded him of the little girl who would come to the bookshop every day after school. She had been bullied from the times he dared to traverse her mind. She was intelligent but not the best people's person or had the best home. She was a sweet girl and he enjoyed talking to her about books until she could go home with a smile on her face.

“Could you help me with this question please?” He whispered whilst pointing to the challenge question on the worksheet.

He could do it easily… ,with a calculator ,but Granger needed some cheering up and she always liked to feel better than others. Draco just hoped she was quiet when she made fun of him.

She stared at him curiously, momentarily forgetting her pain.

She took his paper so it was placed in the middle of them both and then pointed the quille to the last problem on the page.

“Oh um, so you need to substrate the string with a conditional clause…” she trailed off as she quickly became uncomfortable.

“Oh OK that makes sense, I wonder if I add a matrix to the conditional, we could predict more accurately,”

She started laughing, “wouldn't that be nice but spells are too volatile for that to ever happen though I suppose a potion it could be applicable but you hav-”

“I'm sorry I called you a slur in second year,” he said before his brain could catch up with his mouth. She paused, mouth hanging loosely at the hinge but for a second before her face quickly contorted into a symphony of harshness and contempt.

“Do you expect me to forgive you after that lukewarm apology, Malfoy,”

“No,” he said seriously. He contemplated this before when the shop was too quiet or when Alex was at her medical school lectures and he had nothing to do other than listen to faint rumbles of cars as they passed by. Can he ever really be forgiven? He was truly and utterly pained at the way he behaved, how he treated Muggleborns, no people in his life. His entire life was composed of unforgivable acts and words and no matter how much he was sorry, it didn't make them go away.

Being sorry didn't make him a good person or change how he treated Granger or even make their lives better. Did those unforgivable acts make him an unforgivable person? Because 17 year old Draco and 21 year old Draco were both Draco. Both equally responsible for what they did.

He knew that, every morning and every night because no amount of good erases a wrong. They're not scales, one does not cancel the other out. He may not be a death eater now, bare His mark and kneel at His feet but he had been once. And that was evil enough .

“Oh… why are you sorry?” She said equal parts confusion and confidence, her eyes still red rimmed.

“I finally realized that humanity is equal in all it's facet and it's evil to think otherwise,”

“Do you want a medal?” She said, “for the bare minimum,” it wasnt hateful, it sounded… pained.

“I'm really sorry it took me so long not to be an asshole,” he rambled, “well I'm still an asshole but now an asshole with some conscious thought”. His ears were starting to feel warm.

“Are you going to do anything with your new found consciousness?”

“Yes… but I can't publicly,”

“Why! You think you can become a better person without putting in any hard work!”

“I know I know, but i,” it was selfish, he knew it was selfish, he was selfish. From the moment he and Neville started this whole thing he should have done it. But he was no Gryffindor, he was a coward. “I don't want to be disowned… Just yet,”

She blinked.

“Oh.”

“Yeah”

“I don't forgive you,”

“I know,”

“Your secret safe with me...thoug. I hope one day I will be able to forgive you.

“You won't have to wait long,”

He knew 17 year old Draco was a bad person and by extension so was 21 Draco. Unforgivably so, at least in the magic world. But 13 year old Draco was a child with only words as sin, deep words, cruel words, but words. Words he will never utter again. His real sin not even thought up on the earth.

Children could be redeemed.

Neville

Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh.

No.

Why did Harry have to be so weird and creepy? He sat directly behind Harry in transfiguration whilst professor McGonagall Sat in her feline state on her desk as she watched each of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff intensely.

What they were supposed to be doing was practicing turning an animal into a cup but what Harry was doing in the crisp afternoon air was staring at the little footprints of Draco as it moved around. Neville was watching that slightly disturbed. It had been an hour already of just Harry watching him. Draco at the moment seemed to have a free period and was surrounded by the slytherins quidditch team.

Adrien Pucey, Marcus Flint, Marigold Selwyn, Beatrix Fawly, Graham Montingue and Cassius Warrington.

Warrington. Cassius¹, what an awful name to give a child though it made sense for the personality of Cassius was equally as awful. He had died soon after the war, Neville was on the team the hunted him down. He put up no fight but he had given them detail on the location of … holdings for muggle borns. He was never quite sure if he gave the location out of remorse or to try to wriggle himself out of a kiss.

It didn't matter. It didn't matter how much he pleaded, how many locations he revealed, or names. As soon as Neville stepped into that dreadful house, with those soulless husks barely holding onto survival, Warrington fate was sealed.

The kiss was too kind a fate.

They were probably talking about their upcoming game with Hufflepuff, after decimating Ravenclaw in their last game, Hufflepuff would probably be easy. They were in the Slytherin's common room. How did the map see that. From his understanding the Marauders had made the map from scratch that's why it had no knowledge of the room of Requirements. So how did a group of Gryffindor know enough about the architecture of the Slytherin house to map it accurately.

“Harry, Draco not a Deatheater or Helping Black,” she said, her voice steadier than usual. Sadly these past few days she had sounded in a constant state of crying and although Neville tried to stay to keep her company in the library, he really had other thing to do. It was a miracle that Hermione forgived Ron and Harry after this. In this first round Neville hadn't even attempted to comfort her and neither did anyone else. She had quite literally been isolated. Whether if Harry knew it or not he had great social power and to be shunned being the boy who lived, and been muggleborn well you were pretty much screwed. He remembers Gryffindors from different year actively avoiding her, even wood seemed coldly indifferent to her .

She was truly alienated.

“Draco? Since when is Malfoy Draco?” Ron looked at her with strong distaste.

“It humanizes him. Because Harry he's human not some dementor in disguise,”

“Looked Mione, I know your trying to help but your “helping” has screwed me over enough already.”

Ron giggled.

Fortunately McGonagall jumped off the desk at that very moment to signify the end of class and confidently the end of the school day.

“Come on Ron,” Harry said quietly, pointedly ignoring Hermione, before leaving the classroom.

“Mione,”

She turned, she looked on the brink of tears.

“Do you want to help me pot some flowers?

She nodded her head.

As they walked in awkward silence in the sense Hermione tried to stop herself from crying and Neville debating wether he should Speak or not.

Once the arrived, Neville gently guided her to the bench were Draco usually sat and placed a small flower pot in front of her with soil and seeds.

She stared at it blankly but he wasn't going to force her to pot the flowers. It was more to give the illusion of her doing something.

“I got this really cool new plant, one of my friend got it for me over Yule,”
She shivered at that.

He continued, she needed a distraction, something to latch onto other then rejection. “I feel bad though because I didn't get him a present and now it's too late to get him anything you know,”

“You should probably do something really good for his birthday,” she said unblinking but at least she was speaking.

“That's a good idea. You are always really helpful Hermione,” he whispered.

A tear rolled down her cheeks.

“It's called Belladonna, it's a muggle plant,”

She started crying, real crying and Neville knew there was no distracting her, but now he needed to comfort her.

She was hiccuping and wiping her tears away, trying to regain controlled of her breath.

Neville moved to sit next to her. “Ron and ‘arry are being idiots, you don't deserve them treating you like this, mione,” he whispered, rubbing circles on her back.

“It's not that,” she cried. He momentarily stopped. Had he missed something, had something happened.

“I mean it is that but not just that. Ron and Harry are mean to me but that just who they are,”

Oh Mione.

“Hermio-”

“They don't mean to to be. I know they don't but their just teenage boys. I'm just so…”

“Tired?” He supplied.

“yeah,” she said Waterly. “I'm just so tired of proving myself,”

What?

“Proving I belong here,”

“Hermione you do belong here,”

“I know but no one else does. You don't know what's its like Nev, your a pure blood. It's like every one hates me. Ron doesn't get it because he part of the sacred 48” she said mockingly “and even though Harry half blood, he's the boy who lived!”

“They just don't get. You don't get it!”

“I don't but I can listen,”

She looked up at the glass of the green house.

“It's like every one is expecting to fail.”

“Hermione your the smartest person in our year,”

“Because i have to be!” She yelled. “If I don't succeed now, I won't later because my parents are muggles!! Because I'm a mudblood!”

He flinched.

“No of you will respect me, if I'm not the best,”

“Hermione I have so much respect for you,”

“Your an exception, do you know what it's like to live with girls who are physically revolted by my existence, sure there not calling me a mudblood but every time I bring up my parents they- they get this look on this face,” she cried. “Like, like I'm some poor thing. I'm proud to be a witch but that doesn't mean I reject my muggle parents,”

Had he really missed all of this. How long had he known Hermione for.

“It's like they think Hogwarts rescued me or something. The only thing I can talk about is school work because all my hobbies are to mugglish!” she cried.

“And now they think I'm boring and wouldn't dream of hanging out with I loser with. And, and now Harry and Ron hate me and me and it's even worse.You all looked down on me. I just . I just wanna go home,”

“Sh sh, I'm sorry, sh sh it's okay,” he cradled her in his arms until it got dark and they both started to shiver.

They walked to Gryffindor Tower in silence but it was peaceful and felt safe. He had her hand clasp in his.

“Password?” the painting asked

“Romero,” he answered

They both step in.

“I think I'm going to sleep now, Thank you Nev,” she said, squeezing his hand before letting go and walking ahead of him and up the stairs.

The room was emptier the usual some 5th year some 7 the years. Dean and Seamus sat together revising, the twins were doing… something and

Harry and Ron were sat together giggling to each other. He diced to go to Dean and Seamus first.

“Hey Nev, we're doing some Potion HW wanna join?” Seamus asked.

“Sorry, already done it,” rather Draco had done it but potato potato.

“Wanna help?” Dean asked.

“Can I ask you something?”.

“Yeah sure,”

“What do you both think about Hermione?”

They shared a look Neville couldn't quite read.

“I mean well what Harry and Ron are doing to her isn't right, us muggleborn agree,” Dean said.

“But?” Neville asked.

“She makes me feel so dumb” Seamus whispered. “It's like she speaks and I've realized I've never be that smart. It's intimidating,”

“I think it be less scary if she pure blood,” Dean added.

Neville made a face and the both noticed.

“What?” they said in unison.

“This is gonna come off weird, but do you think you could talk to her about muggle stuff? Please,”

They looked confused.

“What type of muggle stuff?”

“Anything. She just really isolated, all the girls are pureblood and I'm pureblood so really as no one to talk to about muggle stuff to and u thinks it getting her down,”

“OK,” Dean said though Seamus looked More reluctant. “You like her so she can't be that bad,”

“Thank you so much. Harry and Ron are being right fu— fffff- fff–pheasant,”

“Were you just about to swear!”

“Nope,”

He Looked over to the other side of the room to were Harry and Ron sat.

“They are right fucks though,” Dean said. “Hermione has been on the verge of tears for ages. They are so selective about her. Its like half the time there aren't even friends,”

“Yeah,”

“Pureblood weirdness I guess,”

“Hey! I'm also a pureblood. We aren't all bad,”

“Yeah Sure,” he said awkwardly. Did they genuinely forget he was a pureblood?

Chapter Text

Neville

Harry Slept peacefully still clutching the map to his side. He was all tired out by the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor match. Harry was so different as a child. Softer. Kinder. The Harry Neville knew was 21 but looked much older. This boy infront of him was small with brown skin completely unmarked and short black hair, his Harry was tall and strong with skin littered with scars and hair already peppered with gray. His Harry was kind but…

With gentle hands he quickly removed the parchment from Harry's fingers, his eyes trailing in front of him.

It was Blank completely. He knew it was the correct parchment but it was so barren. He even struggled to feel any magic. An unconcealment charm would be most appropriate however with his magic so bungled he doubt it would work. His magic had been a thick sludge of unworkable energy sloshing and stirring inside him waiting to pour out.

His magic had never felt so strange, as a child right until his fifth year, magic was hard. Difficult. Impossible really. The only magic he was ever any good at was herbology but nobody ever noticed. It had all changed when he entered his sixth year, spells previously muddy and unfocused had become so clear, flowing into his wand like how water flows in rapids.

His magic felt like his childhood magic but much worse. You think having the much larger magic reserves of an adult core would make spells easier but it just made it that much harder to control and shove through his wand. What was more frustrating was Draco who seemed to glide through everything with ease. He was top in class, only Hermione standing equal to him, and his wand work was so… beautiful.

Unfortunately, Draco rarely used his wand, still preferring to cast wandlessly, out of habit or because it came for naturally, Neville didn't know. Lupin had once caught Draco wandlessly levitating sweets into his mouth from his bag during a lesson.

Lupin had a strange expression of fondness but pained. The professor glided to Draco desk so he was right next to him.

“Mister Malfoy, I sure I don't need to remind you that food is strictly forbidden,” Lupin said jovially, however the ‘forbidden’ developed a biting edge to it that made Neville slightly concerned for Draco safety.

“Yes Sir, I know.” Draco replied coolly. Parkison giggled. Lupin had, not maliciously, kept a closer eye on Draco than the rest of the class. Especially when Draco slacked.

“Hmm really, because I could have sworn I saw a cherry Sparkler floating about,” he said smiling.

“Floating sir. How bizarre. However my wand has been on the table this entire lesson,” Draco answered as innocently as he possibly could.

“Now now. You sell your self short Mister Malfoy. I know you have quite the impressive skill. It's been a real thorn in my side giving you enough challenge in class for you to even pay attention. Am I so uninteresting that you have to resort to teaching yourself wandless magic just to eat during my lessons,” Lupin Smiled.

Harry, sat to Neville's right, had fully abandoned his independent study in favor of watching the verbal match happening behind them. And by the eerie silence of the classroom so had everyone else.

“You flatter me professor but all this ‘Mister Malfoy’ talk makes me sound like my father. If you regard me so highly, why don't you call me Draco. You already call most of the class by the given name. I feel rather left out,” Draco pouted, putting an unconvincing front of hurt.

“Ah, Draco,” he announced the name as if it was familiar, almost, “resorting deflecting to wriggle your way out of detention. Clever but not clever enough.” Lupin said solemnly.

“How about a bribe?” Draco asks quickly and Neville could pinpoint the second where his silver eyes filled with panic as he realized what he said. The blond had a habit of doing that, didn't he? Speaking his mind before his rationality caught up.

Lupin stared mother agape before his mouth morphed into a cautious smile.

Lupin breathed in harshly, “depends,”

Draco Smiled, reached into his opened bag and carefully pulled a metal tin and handed it to the professor.

“Chocolate,” Lupin noded. “Hmmm,” and just like that Lupin walked away from Draco's desk and walked to Lavender who looked like she was about to have a fight with her worksheet.

He heard many grumbling about how Malfoy got away with eating class however it was mostly drowned out by laughing at the sheer humor of the scenario.

At the end of the lesson Lupin handed out Draco EXPENSIVE chocolate to each of the students as a reward for suffering through a ‘boring theory’ lesson.

Draco Giggled when Lupin gave him his piece of chocolate that made Neville feel only jealous that he wasn't the origin of that laugh.

Harry shifted in his sleep causing Neville to have a mini heart attack. Right he needed to back on task and not be distracted by Day dreaming (or night dreaming) about his Draco's laughs.

WAKE UP DRACO. COAST CLEAR. COAST CLEAR.

Not even a second later he felt his chest warm and reached down to his pendant to read the message.

For My Lovable Idiot.

OK so Draco had received the message, it was time to move out. Neville as quietly as he could descended the stairs to the common room where he reversed the room carefully to avoid the twin's failed prank that melted into the floor. Thank Merlin McClaggen ducked when he did.

And through the painting of Sir Cadogan who was asleep.It was a short trip to the ROR and before long he saw a flash of blond in the dark. Draco.

He was in his pajamas, a silk green ensemble that looked very cozy and more obviously over his shoulder was a thick green blanket slightly trailing on the floor.

“Hi,” Neville whispered.

Draco responded with a death stare.

Maybe he should have dropped in the kitchens to get hot chocolate.

Without evening uttering a word Draco began the ritual of summoning the door, only tripping twice.

“So what's up?” Draco asked as he collapsed onto the blue sofa. There was a soft crackle of a potion simmering in the corner. Draco animagus potion. Neville had surprisingly been quite involved in its creation, it felt like every other day Draco would walnce into the green house and ask Neville to collect new ingredients.

“This,” Neville said, waving the parchment in the air.

“You need help with your homework?”

“Noo,” Neville responded quickly, “This is a map Harry is using to stalk you,”

They stared at each other. Almost comically Draco's face took the parlor of someone who was just told that their husband had died at sea.

“The fuck you mean by that, Neville,” Draco calmly, (by calmly, Neville meant by shouting at him). Draco shrugged of his blanket and stood up. There was a slight tremor in his left hand.

Ok maybe Neville didn't phrase it as well as he should have.

“You know Harry thinks you're helping Black right?”

“No. Why the fuck does he think that?” again Draco yelled.

“I don't know,”

Draco blanched.

“Anyways, it's not important. What is important is that there is a map, the Marauders Map, Harry dad and those made that tracks you. Well not just you, the whole school uses the homunculus charm. And if we want to keep our little rendezvous secret we need to make it so doesn't see you,”

“So why don't we keep the map?” Draco ask,almost pleadingly. “Ahh does Potter need it?”

Neville remained silent before nodding his head. Draco groaned.

“Hand it over, once we open it i could place it in an ‘unwatching circle’ ” The blond commanded, shaking his hand slightly.

Neville cautiously placed it in his hands.

Draco was momentarily confused by its blank nature before waving his wand over the parchment.

“Reveal your secrets,” Draco said confidently.

Nothing happened.

“Unveil you truth,” he said a little more forcefully.

Blank.

“Please?”

Mr Moony is unimpressed by this attempt.

Mr Padfoot concurs and wonder if the would Be intruder has even gone through puberty.

“Ah dick head,” Draco said to the paper.
Neville snorted.

Mr Prongs is greatly fucking offended by the use of such foul language.

“Huh, so Harry's dad And his friends must have added their personality into the map,” Neville added.

Mr Wormtail is greatly shocked By learning that one of the gentlemen had managed To procreate.

“Yeah,” Draco said dryly. “Look, your gonna tell me how to open this map or I'm gonna light you on fire,”

Mr Padfoot is greatly angered by such a Slytherin response.

“Draco! You can't just say that to them,”

“Why not! You're supposed to be on my side. Stopping me from being stalked!” Draco said but something was thin in his voice

“Harry only mildly stalks you,” Neville said. “It was much worse in 6 th year. He would actually follow you around,”

“Are you not hearing yourself. I don't want him any near me!” His eyes were glossy and his voice was raw. “Last time this happened,” he sniffled, “he… and I…” his cheeks were redining. “I just can't Neville,”

Neville froze. His mind was whirling and his mouth felt like fluff, uncertain what to say. The map. Something about the map perhaps.

How to open the map. He racked his brain.

“How did they map the slytherin's common room?”

“What?” Still looking like he was on the brink of tears and now just confused..

“They're all Gryffindors who actively hate all Slytherin and the slytherins hated them back. How could they possibly been able to place an homunculus anchor rune in the common room,”

“Uncle Sirius brother?” Draco said in a small voice.

“No, Harry once said they weren't on good terms, what about your aunt? The one that married the muggle?”

‘I don't think so. I only met her once at my Narcissa's Funeral but she was much older than Sirius. the timing isn't right…” something dawned over Draco's face.

“Narc- My Mother. My mother. It must been of been her. They were close, I know that and she only two years Older than him so the timing is right,obh Merlin, this is it. She told me about this.” he moved back to the parchment and raised his wand.

“Your Mischief on this cursed ground shall not trample on this sacred flower,” Draco admittedly looked slightly embarrassed but held confident as the both watch the parchment for movement.

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers,
are obliged to present the starry skies only flower
THE MARAUDER'S MAP

“My mother, Narcissa Black. Told me a story the day before my first year. About a group of animals, a wolf, a dog, a deer and a rat in search of lilies using a map. It was really weird, Narcissa is really weird but she made remember one line from the beginning where the group finds daffodils,” he rambled

“Lilies? Like Lily Potter?”

“Oh. You know this is making a lot more sense. I just thought Narcissa, my mother was teaching me about Slytherin politics in a wierd story”

The map opened.

What now?

Draco dropped to the floor, map in hand “grab me my bag, it's under my blanket,”

Neville sprung into action and just like Draco said there was his school bag. Neville handed it to him. And then he opened it a stuck his whole arm into it.

“An extension charm?”

“Yeah,”

His hand slowly retracted revealing what Draco white knuckle had grasped.

“Why do you have a knife?”

“Luna gave it to me for Yule,”

He started carving into the floor in a circular manner. He recognised one word. His name is in a rune formation.

“Wanna explain what's going on?”

“I told you. Unwatching circle,” he looked up. Neville could see blotchy cheeks and wet eyelashes.

“Doesn't help,”

“It's a subs spell of the Fidelius Charm. Slightly weaker. Where the Fidelius completely obscure the information an unwatching circle makes it virtually impossible to find it,”

Neville made a valiant attempt to act like he understood the difference.

“OK, so the information is only obscured if you were looking but it's still present if you stumbled on it. For example if Potter were looking for my name on the map, he would never find it but if he just looked and I just happened to be there it would show up,”

“Oh, and my name?”

“So you're protected too,” he smiled.

Draco taped his wand to the edge of the circle and it glowed a soft blue bordering green.

“Done” he stood up, “Can I sleep now?” he asked whilst handing Neville the still opened. Something caught his eyes.

“Oh noooooo,”

“What's wrong?” Draco panicked asked.

“Sirius, he's breaking in today!”

“How? I thought it was your fault he got in the last time because you wrote down the passwords. Don't tell me you wrote down the passwords!”

“Nooo,” Neville said offendedly.

“So there nothing to worry about, he can't get in, he'll give and go,”

Yeah that was right… did he close the painting properly? He couldn't remember. Sirius was only at the gates.

“I don't like that look,”

“I don't know if I closed the painting,”

“Still fine,” he did not sound fine, “Sirius is not actually a criminal,”

“Yeah I'm not there, neither is the map. McGonagall will have my head. Last time I had to sleep on the floor outside the painting. What is she gonna do this time?” Neville also didn't sound fine.

“Can you run?”

Neville just stared.

“OK stupid idea. Make your not having any. Ok a way to Gryffindor Tower in less then 5 minutes, brooms,” draco picked up his bag and the blanket.

“Close your eyes!” He shouted, eyes already closed himself.

Neville's vision went blank. He heard a quiet rumble

“Open,”

Before him was Draco holding a broom next to a window he could swear wasn't there before.

“Hop on,”

A little unknown fact about Neville long bottom is that he is absolutely terrified of flying.

“OK,” he said with no hesitation

‘Ahhhhhh why am I saying yes!!!!!!’

Like a blur the were up in the air and speeding toward Gryffindor tower.

Neville in panic tightly wrapped his arms around Draco midriff, pushing their bodies together.

He felt awfully hot.

They arrived at the window where Neville pushed the window in and as carefully as he could tumble in.

He stood up and faced Draco.

“Goodnight Hero,”

“Good night flower,"

Draco

“Licorice,”

Nothing.

“Honeydew,”

Nothing

“Sherbet lemon,”

Nothing

“Lemdrop,”

The gargoyle twisted and stairs appeared. For someone who said his door was always open, it was awfully hard to find.

Trembling, his hands were trembling, the last time he ascended this stairs he was sure he was going to die. He could still feel her laughter bouncing off the stone, feel her vice like grip on his shoulder.

Bright colors bombarded his eyes as he stepped into the office. It was large and well decorated with trinkets of every size and the painting covered every inch. He had never seen it so… alive. When it belonged to Snape, it was in a petulant state of darkness, the whole castle was.

“Mr Malfoy, What do I owe the honor,” a soft voice spoke from midway in the office. Professor Dumbledore sat neatly in his armchair, Fawkes beside him.

“I fear I've been obliviated,”

“Oh dear,”

Not just fear, he was sure he had been obliviated and he knew he did it.

Harry saint Potter.

There were blanks in his memories, 3 to be exact. 3 he wanted back.

“Sit down then,” he said kindly, “Obliviation are difficult, I personally have never been trained to use them. However since you show such a high attitude for occlumency, I believe in time you will be able to lift the spell,”

“In time?” Draco asked.

“In time, of course we could go to a unspeakable, but I imagine that these memories are… sensitive,”

Draco sighed, he placed.his head down on his hands. He needed to rest. He needed to know the fuck Potter did to him. What made him so fearful of him. Draco had always been scared of Potter but in a way a child was scared of a kind stranger. The fear he felt was… so familiar. Too much like Him.

He lifted his head.

“My understanding of Lagillmancy and Occlumency is… grounded in dark magic. I wasn't taught with care, Bella just wanted results,” Draco said with a loose smile.

“Severus didn't teach you,” Dumbledore said with pure shock. Draco shakes his head.

“I don't think Severus likes me all that much,” Draco conceded.

“Hmmm, Severus is a troubled young man,” Dumbledore said in a control tone. The hit a chord with Draco.

“You once offered me protection, before I tried to kill you,”

Dumbledore smiled.

“Why?”

“You are a child. I think you deserve that much,” Dumbledore answered.

“But why just me. Do the other Slytherin not deserve the same compassion,” he tried not to yell.

“I don't believe they are in the same danger as you Draco. You are different from them,”

“How!”

“You are for lack of a better phrase, Exactly what Voldemort seeks,”

Draco resists the urge to cover his ears like a child.

“no. He… hated me, or I suppose hates me”

“And yet he didn't kill you. That is an achievement in self,”

Draco had never felt so sickened.

“What about my uncle, Sirius, why didn't you safe him from Azkaban.”

“What do you mean” Dumbledore Said a little too quickly.

“I mean why did you let Sirius go to Azkaban when he was innocent. Peter Pettigrew was the rat,”

Dumbledore looked at him with horror.

Draco returned the same expression.

“No,”

“Yes,”

“Oh dear,” Dumbledore breathed in, “oh no,” and then he looked confused and the realization dawned on him.

“It appears I'm in a very similar situation to you Mr Malfoy. I too have been obliviated,”

The greatest Wizard in the century, obliviated? The was just no way!

“Just a second Young Malfoy,”

It was several minutes and several pained expression before Dumbledore addressed him again.

“I consented to it at least. James insisted. ‘Make the secret keeper a secret’,” something raw. “Oh Sirius,”

“How did you do that. Stop the obliviation,”

“Patients Malfoy, first you need the basics,” he smiled but it was strained and then Draco realized he should probably let Dumbledore Mourn in peace for a while,”

Dumble stood up and walked to a bookshelf. Rumbling for a few seconds before he pulled a thin book. A children's book.

“Read this,” he handed him the book.

“Ok?”

“Come back when you finished,”

Draco stared at him skeptically but he heard a the suggestion or command to leave so Draco stood up.

“Thank you Professor and about Sirius. I'm sure he'll forgive you, even though it wasn't your fault or anything,”

“Thank you,” he smiled.

“Good bye… Albus,”

Chapter Text

Neville

“I don't understand it Ron,” Harry complained harshly to the red head. Hermione, who was onto one side next to Dean, was chatting animatedly with the boy. They had unexpectedly shared a love of a ‘TV show,’ called “Doctor who’ or something like that. Seamus, Dean and Hermione had been conversing almost non stop about all matters of muggle things. Neville had never seen Hermione talk so much about anything other than work.

“Maybe he just not around,” Ron said but even if he voice wasn't high with reluctance, his slight frown and furrowed brows revealed his doubts.

“He's up to something Ron, he even messed with the map,” Harry whispered.

Neville resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he shoveled eggs and bacon into his face. It hadn't even been a week and Harry had been going frantic about his apparent inability to stalk Draco. He looked close to exploding out of misplaced rage in a History lesson where he spent almost its entirety lifting his head back and forth from the map to Draco's blond locks.

“Ron, seriously think about it. The map stops working as soon as Black breaks in. That's not a coincidence,” Harry hushed.

Black break in had proven to be extremely annoying as opposed to last time no one knew how he did it. McGonagall had rounded them all up as soon as she had deciphered that Ron's wailing had not been a result of a nightmare after hearing Neville's testimony, whe had waited almost an hour for someone to confess to opening the painting before giving up and declaring that she was disappointed in the perpetrators for making a such a foolish mistake but even more disappointed in the fact that they were to much of a coward to confess.

Did that hurt Neville? Yes, but only mildly as being a little guilty of being a coward was infinitely better than the possibility of incurring the wrath which was his grandmother. And explaining why he was out after dark wouldn't do anyone any good.

“Do you think, you know, tell a professor about the map,” Ron asked quietly.

Harry shocked his head.

Of course he wouldn't.

“Hey we should probably get going if we want to get to Hogsmeade,” Seamus announced to the general vicinity.

Harry's face seemed to darken before lightening once more, probably after realizing he can just sneak in.

“That's right Kiddies, time to go or Mean old Minnie is going to leave us behind,” Goerge (Or fred) said sardonically.

“Wouldn't want you thirdies missing out on such fun,” Fred (or Goerge) said leaning right near Hermione's curly hair.
“You especially, Miss Granger,” he continued.

She whipped her head around whilst standing up.

“And why is that Mr Weasley,” She asked.

“Because I'd you become any more serious I fear you may be untreatably,”

“Irredeemably”

“Incurably,”

“reprehensibly”

“Boring,” he said sadly, miming tears with an equally imagined napkin.

Ron snorted

“Ahh what a dreadful ailment Forge. We already lost our dear brother Percy to it,” Goerge (or Fred) said, shaking his head.

Hermione huffed before picking up her thing and walking away in confident strides. Seamus and Dean shared a knowing look before following her.
And just like that they were walking to the courtyard.

“Fred, Goerge,” Harry called out. Both boys looked back and slowed the pace so they were trailing in the back of the traveling pack of Gryffindor.

“What is it Harrykins,” Fred (or Goerge) asked.

“It's about the map,” Harry whispered

The twin's dawned a matching expression of confusion and hesitation.

“Has it ever not be able to see a person,”

The twin's sported matching frowns before shaking their heads.

“Why you ask,” Fred (or George) asked.

“Malfoy not on the map anymore,”

“What!” Goerge (or Fred) said, alarm reaching his eyes.

“It's like he just disappeared,” Harry explained. “He could be right in front of me and I can't see him on the map,”

The twin on the left developed a pensive sort of confusion whilst his counterparts drew a sharp breath, red brows knitting with growing anger.

“I bet it's dark magic,” one of the twins announced.

“Has the map ever left your side?” the other asked.

They overlapped. Neville almost tripped out of the thestrals carriage. He has never heard the twins ever be out of sink. It was unnatural.

“Malfoy would, wouldn't he? That slimy snake,” Ron agreed with one of his brothers.

“No, I always have it,” Harry clarified to the other brother.

“Then I don't think Malfoy has anything to do with it. Or at least directly,”

“Goerge, you can't be defending him,” Fred (he presumed) questioned his brother.

“I'm not,” he said defensively, “I'm Just saying… Look, let's think of this logically. When did the map change?”

Fred sniffed unconvinced.

“The day Black broke in,” Ron supplied helpfully.

“There you have it,” Goerge continued, arrogantsmile plastered onto his face.

“Black?” Harry asked thoughtfully.

“Makes the most sense,”

“But why remove Malfoy?”

Goerge proud smile morphed into a grimace. Then he shrugged.

Harry looked mildly ill.

“Don't worry Harrykins, me and Gorgie will work this one out, we'll look for him, Malfoy, in hogsmeade,” Fred said inside the carriage, looking out to Harry who was still on the Hogwarts ground.
“Ask him some questions,”

“Ill look for him in the castle?” Harry said, in a tone that sounded like a question.

“We’ll meet up, after we get back”

Fred winked at the carriage rolled off.

Unfortunately Neville, duty bound, spent the rest of the hogsmeade trip trailing the twin's.

Yet, not even the whole day of popping in and out of shops, stalking random Slytherin even waiting at the carriages could they find the blond. It wasn't like Draco to miss a Hogsmeade trip. He hated staying in the castle more than he had to. What was going on?

He had to get back to the Castle. Check on Draco.

“He's not here,” one of the twins said, mirroring Nevilles thoughts.

“Clearly, back to the Castle?” The other answered.

Draco. Where was he?

He needed to get back to his Draco.

He held his pendant.

Draco, are you ok? What's wrong?

Nothing.

Draco. You ok?

Nothing again.

His heart was racing. Where were the twin? Had they already left.

DRACO?

Still nothing!

His legs were moving. He was running back to the Castle. Back to his Draco.

Draco

His legs were hurting. All of him was hurting. And yet he was numb, almost as if he was in a constant state of pain and ignorance. He was in myrtle bathroom lying on the floor, smoking. How pathetic. He had a tremor this morning lasting almost two hours of pure torment. And he was so looking forward to the hogsmeade trip. He was planning to apparate to Ali and Tom and do some surfing. Relax on the beach for a while. But instead he was on the floor holding back tears as he inhaled smoke.

He wanted a hug. Alex would sit with him, stroking his hair as he wept onto her arms. whispering that everything would be fine, that she was with him, Draco would believe her. And she tell him that he needed to see a doctor, and she didn't count. “I'm only in med school,” and Draco would say he was just stressed.

But she wasn't here anymore. She would never hug him again. Never go over her med school notes with him again. Never tell him about the awful boy she went on a date with again.

He'll never see her again. She would never recognise him again. He was her brother. And now they were strangers.

He had lost a sister and gained nothing in return. He wanted Alex now.

No. He couldn't think like that. Alex would always be his sister, he would never be her brother and he had to be ok with that.

On shaky feet he decided he needed hot chocolate. Chocolate would make him feel better.

So he walked, on legs that barely listened, with his hands plastered to his side smelling like smoke.

“Malfoy!” A voice behind him shouted.

Draco froze.

A small boy with scruffy hair and burning green eyes stood a few feet in front of him accompanied by two red headed boys.

The three looked winded and confused… in his presence?

“Hi?” He wasn't in the mood for a fight, he felt sick.

“Ahh little baby Malfoy, We've been looking everywhere for you. do you mind if we question you for a bit. Won't take long,” the brother on the left said. Goerge he thought. Not the one who died. He had more freckles.

“Yeah, I do mind,” Draco answered. And tried to push pass them. Both twins grab him by his shoulder and push him to the wall.

His head felt heavy.

S
   O
           H
               E
                   A
                       V
                          Y

‘Malfo
            y! W○hat did you.. do..

map,’

Potter question. He didn't quite understand what he was saying.

Goerge looked at him strangely. Uncomfortable perhaps?

Map? What map?

He grunted best he could. His mouth would move and his tongue forgot how to bend and curve around his voice.

Fred pulled out a piece of parchment and shoved it in front of him.

parchment? The Marauders map?

'I th

                              ink…he. doesn't… know…●●●●● anything,' Goerge said.

Fred turned to his brother before they stared at each other in a confusion or concern?

Potter's eyes were trained on him furiously.

‘Wh☆t.  are you..       d●ing.     w•th

                             Black?’ Potter asked

Except, his mouth didn’t move. And with a sick sort of clarity he noticed his mouthed never did. He had seen their thoughts with lagillmancy.

No. No. no. That can't be right. He had smoked! His brain shouldn't be capable of this. The nicotine dulled his magic!!! He knew for a fact.

Why! Why wasn't it working.

The book. The book. Dumbledore had given him a book to read. Its sentences are convoluted with entirely too many words and sentences so long you would think them paragraphs. It barely said anything, too fixated on the need to be long.

Oh

He understood now. Even under Bellatrix's tutoring he could barely understand people's thoughts. Always too loud. Too complicated. Too much.

She would yell at him to find the path. “Every one has a path,” she would say, “Find it,”

She had neglected to tell him what a path was.

The main thought perhaps. The big one?

He didn't know. But that book taught him to ignore the fluff. But now he needed that fluff, to dappen the thoughts of people. It was too loud!

He had only one cigarette. Maybe if he smokes more, it would help. Higher quantities? Right? It would help. He knew it would help. It needs to help.

Why do the twins think so much? Didn't they need to stop? And Potter why did he only think of Draco. Why is his mind so consumed by him?

Something wet and warm trickled down his chin.

'is 
                                     Malf○ y
you

                                                        ●k
                    ¿'

He F

      E

      L

      L

Neville

Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco. Draco was in trouble. His star. His flower. His Draco.

He ran around a corner. And there he saw him, slumping to the ground, blood on his face.

His flower was crumpled on the floor.

The twins and Harry stood in a state of shock.

“D-Malfoy,” he called out, running to his side. He placed a hand on his head. He was burning up. In a quick motion he scooped Draco up into his arms.

“What did you do,” he said, hoping he didn't sound too aggressive.

“Nothing-”

“What on earth is going on!” A slimy voice called out. Snape. Oh why did it always have to be Snape.

“Mr Longbottom, why is Mr Malfoy in arms… bleeding?” He asked with… concern? Maybe the man does have a heart.

“Im taking him to the infirmary,” Neville told him.

“Yes, I understood that, Longbottom. My question is why does he need to go to the infirmary,” Snape snapped looking to the other Gryffindor.

“It wasn't us, I swear” Harry blurted out. Snape eyes narrowed.

“He's right professor, Malfoy just collapsed!” one of the twins stated

“Why don't I believe that,” he said exasperatedly, placing a hand on his face. His eyes narrowed once more.

“What's that, behind your back Mr Weasley,” he asked, eyes trained on the twin on the right.

The twin on the left showed his hands.

“The other Mr Weasley,” Sanpe continued, annoyed.

The twin on the right slowly removed his hand from its hiding place revealing a thick piece of parchment.

Snape gestured for the twin to give it to him. The boy reluctantly agreed.

“What's this?”

“Parchment,” Harry said dryly, “it's mine,”

“Reveal your secrets,”

Text slowly appeared on the page and Sanpe started to read, his face getting redder from anger.

“How dar-”

“What's going on,” a kind voice spoke, Lupin. His eyes landed on Draco, “Oh dear, is Malfoy alright?” He asked.

“Look at this. Potter had it,” Sanpe announced every syllable, handing the parchment to Lupin. “Obviously dark magic, your area of expertise ”

Lupin restrained a smirk. “Looks like a zonkos product. Jinxed to insult whoever tries to read it,”

Snape tried to snatch it back.

“But I'll look over it. It is my area of expertise after all,"Lupin said. “Harry, why don't you have a chat with me about this?” Lupin Smiled but it was harsher, more forced than usual. “And Mr Longbottom, please take Malfoy to the infirmary. Severus would you accompany them? Find out what happened?” Lupin asked.

Snape looked like he was about to kill Lupin with his bare hands but conceded.

“Weasleys come with me too,” he ordered. “I want to know exactly how this happened,” Snape gestured to Draco.

Line

Draco woke up quickly after the twins left after they explained that Draco really just collapsed.

“You are making quite a habit of coming here, Mister Malfoy,” Madam Profrey sighed.

“Sorry,” Draco whispered, Neville still at his side. Snape had elected to leave as he had to deliver a potion to someone or something.

“That's quite alright my dear. Are you comfortable with Mr Longbottom being present?”

Draco nodded.

“Alright then. It seems you collapsed out of magical exhaustion. Have you been performing any difficult spells?” She asked.

Draco shook his head.

“Been cursed?”

Again, he shook his head.

“Well it doesn't really matter, how it happened. Just don't over exert yourself again” she looked at him knowingly. “I also noticed you're a little underweight for someone of your stature. Nothing to worry about but do try to have bigger portion when eating,” she smiled and then looked at Neville, almost telling him that he was also responsible for Draco portions.

“Well, you're right as rain now. If you do feel faint please come here straight away, and don't be anywhere alone for the next few days. I'll be informing your teacher this. Mr Longbottom, do you mind escorting him to the Slytherin common room, I have to speak with the headmaster.”

Dumbledore?

Draco leaned on Neville the whole way, obviously still not feeling great.

“You sure you're ok?” Neville asked outside the slytherins doors.

“Dandy,” Draco answered.

“You didn't answer the necklace,”

“Oh, sorry. I must been asleep,”

Neville didn't know why but he hugged Draco. Tight. Draco hesitated for a second bore wrapping his arms as well.

“Goodnight,” he said, still embracing the blond.

“Night,” he didn't let go.

Chapter Text

A random weekend.

Draco arrived at the beach town just as the sun was rising. He could here the little laughings of children and families as he gained his footing after apperating

Soft whisper of air danced on his skin, sending tingles to his spine. One foot, in front of the other. He was balancing precariously on the edge of the sea wall, enjoying the soft crashes of the waves, the gentle lull, rhythmically falling to his ear.

“Draco!” A boy yelled out. Ali. He was wearing a football jersey, with an intricate pattern belonging to a football team he didn't know the name of. Was it football?, he was vaguely aware that one of Alex's friends used to call it soccer.

Trailing a little long ways behind was Tom, next to a little girl? Tom had another child? He could explain Ali's absence as him being away in uni or doing an apprenticeship but that girl couldn't have been more than 10. That would have definitely made her young enough to still be at home by the time Draco moved here. Had he just not noticed her?

“Hi,” Draco yelled out, hoping to keep the confusion out of his voice. He jumped down to the pavement and walked over to Ali.

“What's up, Arn't you still at school?” Ali asked, smiling. At that moment both Tom and the little girl came up to them.

Tom gave him a conspiratorial smile before melting into concern, probably after realizing he needed to be the adult.

“You ran away, son?” He asked, concerned but the slight tremor in his voice showed there was humor concealed in the question.

“Dad!” Ali said, affronted for Draco. Draco only smiled, warmly. He har missed them.

“I wish. No, it's just a long weekend,” Draco answered. Tom was technically right, he had run away as he was a Hogwarts student and he really shouldn't be leaving the grounds. Oh he can't wait to graduate. Draco looked down at the girl. She was small, with brown eyes, dark olive skin, and long sleek black hair, wearing a Hello kitty t-shirt and had a tooth missing.

“Hello. I don't believe we've been introduced. My name is Draco. What's yours?” he held out his hand and leaned over slightly.

“ My name is Merigold and my favorite color is gold ,” she grabbed his hand and shook. She spoke clearly and politely. He had a great aunt called Marigold. Quante, an old woman, who also had a missing tooth, unfortunately was cut off from the family for being a blood traitor,  apparentlyhad a squibson she refused to disown.

“What a lovely name,” he complimented.

“Thank you, I like your name too. It sounds like a dragon!” And then she roared. Draco laughed.

“It means dragon.” Draco said absentmindedly. He had always bragged about it to his friends, ‘it means I'm destined for greatness, Theo’

“Really!” her eyes widened and he was sure he could see stars.

“Of course. Did you know I'm actually a dragon? An evil witch cursed me to be human,” Draco said in a low whisper. Tom snorted at that.

Her eyes shone in sympathy before shaking head sadly.

“But, surprisingly I quite like being human, there more food choices, Dragons don't have ice cream,” Drqco consoled her

“No ice cream!” She said, scandalized

“None,” He confirmed

“haha, as much as it is fun to discuss Draco's tragic backstory. We have an appointment to keep, don't we Mari,” Tom smiled at the girl.

Draco's heart falted a bit. He wouldn't be able to hang out with them. It was his fault. He should have written. Or maybe called? Did Hogwarts have land lines?

“Oh appointment? I can come back another day if your busy,” Draco offered.

Tom turned to his dad pleadingly.

“Nonsense, son come with us. Of course that if you don't mind watching Mari get her ears pierced? We gonna watch a movie after,”

“Yes,” Draco said immediately. “ I would love to,”

So they walked to Tom's yellow car, got in and chatted as country lanes flew by until they reached the city and subsequently the shopping center .

Tom guided the small children, to Draco's surprise, not a piercing studio but a Claires? Didn't the only sell sparkly pens and hair accessories?

“Dad, I don't want to do this any more,” Mari said, clutching her father's shirt. She had tears in her eyes.

“Honey we talked about it, you’ll be fine.” Tom said patiently.

“What if it hurts,” She asked so quietly, Draco almost didn't hear her over the hum of people.

“Oh Marrr, grow up. You wouldn't shut up about it this morning! Now you've  got cold feet,” Ali tried to encourage her in that way Draco saw so many siblings did. By Insults.

“Please don't make me,” She pleaded.

Draco felt awkward.

And then, like usual, he said something before thinking.

“What if I get them with you?” Draco offered. Her eyes widened slightly, pondering if that was agreeable with her.

“OK,”

“Well I hope they suit me,” if they didn't, he could always just heal the holes with magic.

“Woah, wait. That's very sweet of you lad, but you're under sixteen, right?” Tom said, trying to get out something. Draco didn't know what.

“Yes, I'm 13. Why would that matter?” he said in confusion

“son it means, you need parental permission. I'm not your parent,” Tom said.

“I doubt they'll care,” Draco argued back. “I'll pay for it. And really, I'm not overly concerned about the legal repercussions of lying to ‘clair',” he said, pointing to the shop.

Tom stared at him, Draco stared back.

“Fine, only because I think earrings would suit you. But if your parents coming knocking on my door complaining, I blaming you laddie,”

Draco laughed.

“You have to wait a few months. They both gallivanting in Europe or something,”

Tom frowned.

“We're going to be late,” Ali finally announced.

“Oh right, in we go,”

So both Mari and Draco sat down, the teenager, ironically called Claire, who was apparently qualified enough to pierce ears,  started explained the healing process.

Draco chose a silver earring to be stabbed into his flesh whilst mari chose pink flowers, mildly sad they weren't gold. Purebloods rarely pierced the ears. Almost never. There was no reason to. If you want earing, you place an anchored levitation charm. That act of cutting one skin, for any purpose, was unheard of. Draco was supposed that's why, medically speaking, wizard's were so behind. Potion, although in theory were superior to muggle drugs were not as effective. Injection delivered straight to the blood, potions were absorbed. It could take hours for a potion to have its full effect and by that point it may be too late. He had learnt so much with Alex. He sometimes accompanied her to her lectures.

“I'll start with the older brother, ok after 3, 1, 2… 3” a small click and Draco felt a rush of blood and warmth in his ear. She handed him cloth to press to his ear, to stop the blood from leaking. It didn't hurt persay but it stung. “OK again, 1, 2… 3” and again it happened.

Draco now had a silver wedge in his ear. The teen handed him a mirror to admire his new look. He rather liked them. Maybe he wouldn't have to close them up. With a word under his breath he healed them.

It was Marigold's turn and like a champ she did even yelp. Though Draco saw some tears well in her water line.

Draco looked at her new flower earring and with a hand he waved over them, casting a healing spell, they glittered gold in her olive skin.

He might as well.

“Your ears have calmed down really quick Mari,” and then looked suspiciously at Draco.

“Gold,” Tom whispered.

“Are we done?” Ali complained.

“Your only grumpy because you feel left out,” Draco teased, “what too scared not to get a piercing?”

“I'm not,” Ali laughed.

“Draco,” Tom said effectively cutting the banter short, “what did you say your surname was, for the paperwork?” Tom asked.

Draco hesitated.

“Black” Draco answered. “Draco Regulus Black,”

A flicker of recognition.

Draco heart froze.

“An actor has the same surname as you, maybe you're related,” Tom joked. He forgot to laugh though, instead he brought Draco into a half hug, “let's watch a movie, son.” He said in his thick northern accent.

Chapter Text

Draco

Fawkes was preening next to Draco. Rubbing His feather smooth, making small tweeting sounds. It seemed he had burned recently as there was a pile of ashes beneath his perch, waiting to be blown away and returned to the soil. This is what immortality should be like, he wondered if the Dark Lord ever wished he was a phenix.

He supposed not. He doubted the Dark lord ever wished for anything. He would of just take it.

“Draco, I heard you collapse. I must say I'm dearly sorry as I fear I'm partly responsible. I was so distracted by your poor cousin's predicament I neglected to inform you of the purpose of the book, of course I knew you worked it out however I did not foresee the strong reactions it elicited. Though I am not surprised , I would wager you to be a natural talent among natural talents. It's imperative now, you develop the proper skills for control,” Albus apologized. Albus huh. That would get some getting used to but he had already said to once, he might as well keep going.

“Yeah control,” Draco said plainly. “Speaking of my idiot cousin, what are you doing about him,”

Albus' stiffened and gentle smile faded into a small line of concern, “well there isn't much I can do at the moment, other than find Pettigrew of course. The ministry isn't well organized. It's taken me several days to even find who was responsible for Sirius’ arrest. It take me several more months to prove his innocent, and that's being optimistic,”

“How about veriter serum?” Draco asked.

“Ahh, unfortunately his, yours even, lineage makes that admissible in court. A strange quirk of the black family is the particular potion is innaeffective on them. Same with loves potions,” Albus clarified.

Draco didn't know that. Given he didn't know much about his mother's family. The weren't many people to know.

“What about Potter, does his word have no sway,”

Albus paused.

“I would rather not expose the young boy to the ministry yet. He is no Slytherin. Not for the world of politics,” he sighed, “I'm sorry,”

“Hmm. I supposed he just have to hide as a dog for a while,” Dracp commented.

“Dog?” Albus asked

“Animagus, they all were, Petergrew was a rat,” Drqco sighed.

“Ah, bright children they were,” he looked distant. “But enough about that we only have 5 minutes before you should leave for your quidditch game” he smiled.

And brought another book out. Albus must of seen the disappointment on Draco face as albus had the decency to look sheepish.

“Ah. Hha. Ha. No. I'm not just giving you another book. This is a chess rule book. I want to read it because we're going to have weekly chess matches,” he smiled.

“I know how to play chess,” Draco stated but like question.

“Oh yes of course. But this book has strategies. And it will be more beneficial for you if you know the names and techniques to chess strategies. It be easier for when you attempt to read my mind,” Albus answered

Draco blanched. The beared man smiled in return.

“What? You didn't think we were just going to play chess?”

This was going to be a long next few years.

Neville

Side of his face, Planted firmly on the table Neville was rolling his wand back and forth on the table, staring at it. Why did it hate him so much? Transfiguration had been a disaster yesterday, he had almost exploded the table and then fainted on the spot. He had used too much magic. He was sure that he almost broke the thing. But why? the spell wasn't complicated by any means. He should have been able to do it.

And yet he couldn't. His magic was sludge and this wand did nothing but push it till explosion. Momentarily he wished for his wand. The one he got, all alone for 6th year. He had broken his father's wand at the battle in the ministry. How guilty he had felt. This was his father's wand. Frank Longbottom's wand, the great auror who lost his sanity along with his wife, protecting their baby boy. An auror unmatched, perhaps only by their son. Neville was an auror, a good one but he wasn't his father.

He never wanted to be an auror, but his sense of duty drove him to it. He wanted to make sure all those death eaters got what they deserve. He personally collected 124 wands, the highest count of Deatheater capture in the ministry credited to one person.

And yet with all the success telling him to stay, he put in his request for retirement not even at 22 years of age. He was supposed to leave the day after his time Travel disaster.

A creak at the door to the greenhouse alerted Neville to the arrival of a person. He was expecting blond hair, telling , no yelling at Neville what plant he needed to extract and he needed to extract it now because if he didn’t the potion would explode. Good gracious, for how smart Draco was, he really lacked time management.

Instead of an ivory skinned boy, he was met with the face of Professor Sprout.

“There he is, the boy I was looking for,” The Hufflepuff Matriarch puffed loudly. She was covered in dirt and her hair was coming undone but she had a toothy grin.

There was a plant in her hand, small and dainty.

“Hello professor,” he said, fondly.

“Ahh, not collecting plants for the potion I see,” she said with a smug smile.

Neville paused and panicked.

“Ha, only joking, I know how much you hate cauldrons.” She smiled and Neville let out a breath. “Any who's, I've received an accidental extra plant and I thought you might like it. It's definitely a challenge but I think you up to it,” she smiled and handed him a plant pot with purple flowers.

“Aconitum,” she announced, “or-”

“Wolfsbane,” Neville interrupted.

He smiled. Draco is going to be so happy.

“Now off you pop, before you miss the quidditch match. and tell that girlfriend or boyfriend or whoever your daring thats making the potion to plan collections better,” she sniffed, “its a miracle that poor cornelius is alive with how many trimmings you took of him in one go,” she said tapping a small flower.

Neville blushed agian

Draco

Whoever created quidditch was demented.

And his mother is more so for making him a seeker. She could have made him a chaser or maybe a beater but because she was a seeker he had to be a seeker. Now eternal torment with Flint clapping him hard on that back and saying “don't fucking mess up,” and Draco couldn't do anything.

God he wished he was surfing.

“Hey lighten up Marcus, Draco caught the snitch year round this year.” cassi defended Draco. “Potty be a breeze,” he assured.

If only that was true. He had never won against Potter. Not even once.

“Though really don't mess up. I don't want to the loser play again,”

Draco shivered.

“Alright, let's ride,” Adrien shouted. Mari rolled her eyes.

As the team walked on the pitch, he could see a sea of green and red. With red slightly more present then green.

“GRYFFINDOR! GRIFF-IN-DOOR! GRYFFINDOR! LIONS FOR THE CUP!!!” The crowd seemed to scream.

Lee jordan started his announcements,

“And here are the Gryffindors! Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best side Hogwarts has seen in a good few years”

Draco muched proffered Luna commentating. It was far more insightful

“BOooooOoo,” the green children shouted in repute.

“And here comes the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He’s made some changes in the line-up and seems to be going for size rather than skill”

Rightfully, more boos from the Slytherin crowd.

However it wasn't entirely dishonest. Draco himself was the smallest by a mile and that only made him slightly self conscious.

“Captains, shake hands!” said Madam Hooch.

Flint and Wood approached each other, rather romantically if the passion they had wasn't one of pure hate and grasped each other’s hands very tightly. Draco half expected s crack to ring out from one of their hands.

“Mount your brooms!”

“Three … two … one …”

The crack of the whistle faded into the rush of air as Draco rushed off the ground.

“And it’s Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no – Quaffle intercepted by Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the pitch – WHAM! – nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it’s caught by – Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina – nice swerve round Montague – duck, Angelina, that’s a Bludger! – SHE SCORES! TEN–ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”

Johnson punched the air as she soared round the end of the pitch.

Johnston was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus went smashing into her. What an idiot, at least he could try to sly when breaking the rules.

“Sorry!” Marcus smirked, as the crowd below booed.
Next moment, Fred Weasley had chucked his Beater’s club at the back of Flint’s head. Marcus's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed

It was a good shot.

“Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!”

Draco wondered what counted as a provoked attack and if that was allowed.

‘Come off it, Miss!’ howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Bell flew forward to take the penalty.

“Come on, Alicia!” yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd.

Draco should do something as he had yet to do anything as the snitch was being shy. In a swift movement Draco flew around read to be of use once the penalties had been dealt with.

“YES! SHE’S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY–ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”

It's not looking good. His captain was bleeding for goodness sake.

Wood, like the professional he would become, was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goalposts, his jaw clenched.

“Course, Wood’s a superb Keeper!” Lee Jordan told the crowd, as Marcus waited for Madam Hooch’s whistle. ‘Superb! Very difficult to pass – very difficult indeed – YES! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! HE’S SAVED IT!’

Merlin fucking damn it.

He needed to find that snitch.

The quaffle flew his way and Draco batted it away with his broom to Adrien.

50 more points until Slytherin practically losted. He could do it.

“Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession – no! – Gryffindor back in possession and it’s Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she’s streaking up the pitch – THAT WAS
DELIBERATE!”

Mari had, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle,
had grabbed her head. What a violent girl, good Chaser though.

Katie cartwheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom but dropped the
Quaffle.

Madam Hooch’s whistle rang out again as she soared over to Mari and began shouting at her.

Not another penalty. They were gonna fucking lose at this rate.

“THIRTY–ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING –”

He was gonna convince Luna to take an interest in commenting in addition to the quibbler.

“Jordan, if you can’t comment in an unbiased way –!” Pooche reprimanded.

“I’m telling it like it is, Professor!”

Potter had a look of concentration about him and then started zooming off to the Slytherin stands.

A trick he supposed, Gryffindor needed a few more points until Potter could get the snitch.

Draco paid no mind, not even when his idiot teammates collided with each other as a result of Potter.

“Ha ha!” yelled Lee Jordan “Too bad, boys! You’ll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it’s Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle – Flint alongside her – poke him in the
eye, Angelina! – it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke – oh, no – Flint in possession, Flint flying towards the Gryffindor goalposts, come on, now, Wood, save –!”

Marcus finally did something right and scored.

“What a fucker!” Lee Jordan proclaimed.

Luna wouldn't have sworn.

McGonagall tried to snatch the megaphone away but lee held tight. “Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won’t happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession”

Marcus was plain out cheating by this point and only felt mildly guilty. But the Gryffindor were retaliating which made him feel better. He really didn't want to the loser play.

Were the Weasley trying to push Beatrix off her broom?

forty-ten to Gryffindor

Draco had decided to keep his distance from Potter.

Bell scored. Fifty–ten.

Some cuffufle happened with the Weasley, Wood and Mari and Beatrix which Madam Hooch was beside herself with.

“You do not attack the Keeper unless the Quaffle is within the scoring area!’ she shrieked at Mari and Bea.

“Gryffindor penalty!”

Again?!?

He definitely gonna have to act now.

And Johnson scored. Sixty–ten.

Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; bell seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal: sevent - ten.

He needed to get his act together. He was not going to be in a loser play again.

A golden flash caught Draco eyes, much too easily. Much too Easily. The snitch was far too slow. Everything was too slow. He could feel the heartbeat and what felt like seconds in-between each pulse. His eyes sharpen and he felt the need to storm. His broom leaped forward to the Gryffindor Stands. He had accidentally done occlumency again. Oh goodness, he was falling off the deep end. Nothing good came from wizards who couldn't control their sight. Just looked at his aunt.

How could he use such a hard technique for quidditch? Cardiological latency. Slowing down one's perception of time to match their heart beat. he had only managed it once before when he had lied to his aunt about Potter.

He was so scared.

Two heart beats

And yet he was using it now for quidditch? The loser play wasn't that bad.

In the corner of his eye he saw potter firebolt turning to face him, noticing Draco change in speed , disturbingly slow. But Potter had yet to see the snitch, as Draco was obscuring it from sight. Draco knew he would gain on him, over take him. Beat him. Draco pressed his chest to the broom and forced all his magic into it. He was already feeling slightly faint from the occlumency.

3 heartbeats

He was traveling straight right now, so it seemed was Potter. For him to reach the snitch he'll have to dive slightly, but the Firebolt with greater directional sensitivity would out class him and dive all the much quicker . He had to continue straight. Potter hadn't yet seen the Snitch, he was just following Draco.

5 heartbeats.

By now Potter had assumed that Draco was following the snitch, but from the direction Potter was taking he thought it was straight ahead and not just above the stands.

He had to time this right, if he didn’t he would probably fail and maybe take a first year Gryffindor head off. But he had time on his side.

6 heartbeats.

Head let the grip of his hands go and twisted so that only the cross of his ankles held him to the broom, his cape flying in the wind. Hand held out, upside down, his broom abruptly stop and in his hand was cool metal.

“Bitch” Lee jordan yelled. McGonagall didn’t try to correct him and she was clutching her head in dismay.

Draco legs gave way as the cheers started and Draco fell into the Gryffindor stans onto someone's surprisingly soft lap.

“Slytherin had one the cup,” Jordan said dejectedly.

Draco opened his eyes as something dribbled down his chin.

“How do you always end up in my arms, bleeding?” A soft voice said in Draco ears.

Neville.

“Glad I fell for you big guy. I might have flattened Creevy,” Draco smiled, making Neville chest. Surprisingly the kid was there in the row in front of them, camera in hand and snapping pictures.

Draco popped up a peace sign, still in Neville's lap.

“Would you fuck of?” Finnigan asked politely from Neville's left.

“No need to be catty, I'll fall into someone else's lap next time, Maybe Thomas here,” Draco said pointing to Neville right “He is quite broad, looks very comfortable. ok?” Draco promised.

Thomas laughed confused.

“I do need to go though, cup to celebrate,” Draco smugly announced though he felt so tired, “ you know how it is,” Draco blinked but he struggled to opens his eyess

“Dra-Malfoy” asked, concerned.

He was probably overexerted himself.

“Do you wanna give me some your magic sunny boy?” Draco asked Neville and then hugged him. He was so tires.

“OK, you know I can't do that?” Neville said exasperatedly.

“Hhmm be cool if you could,” Draco yawned. He raised a hand and summoned his broom. “Hasta la vista, and thank you for the power nap on lap. Oh look That rhymes,” and Draco Giggled of to go to the pitch where he promptly rolled to the ground. He really shouldn't have flown in his condition.

He was almost admidently tackled by his team and pulled into a hug even, Flint joined with the cup in hand.

“I did it,” Marcus teared up, “I fucking won,”

Bea kicked him in the leg. “We won, fucker”

Chapter Text

Neville

“Absolutely Not,” he said from the sofa, dipping into the blue cushions, legs propped up on an orange ottoman. Neville looked at Draco with such confused aggravation he was sure steam was rising out of his ears.

“Come on, Neville. Don't be such a wet kneazle. I made enough for the both of us,” Draco whined, joining Neville on the sofa, levitating to orbs of silvery liquid in the air. The bubble and simmered, reflecting the room.

“Can't I just do it tomorrow. We have the end of year. I can't fail that Draco and who knows how long the transformation will take,” Neville reasoned.

Draco had such a terrible sense of timing.

“No, the potion will go off,” Draco said firmly, “it has to be now or never.” Neville looked at the blond appraisingly, “I'm not making it again. 7 month Neville. Seven!” Draco argued back.

Neville looked at his option. On the one hand he was risking failing his 3rd year exam due to unforeseen side effects but on the other he was throwing away the probably the only ‘become an animagus in one day potion’ in the entire world. He'd never get this chance again. And besides, nothing really happens if you fail 3rd year.

“Fine,” Neville conceded.

Draco adopted a smile that sparked across his face.

“OK, on the count of three and going to place the potion in your hand and your gonna drin-,”

“Straight from my hands? Can't I get a cup or something?” Neville interrupted. Draco turned annoyed at being interrupted.

“I was going to explain that,” he said accusatively.

“Sorry,” Neville ducked his head.

“Hmph, like was saying,” Draco flick his hair, “ your gonna drink it from your hands because the residue left on them you will rub into your hands and neck like moisturizer. So the potion can penetrate from the three fronts,” Draco explained

“Ok? We ready?” Neville asked.

“One more thing. From what I remember from 7th year, the process take a day and it isn't painful. Though the book described the process as ‘strange’,”

“Strange?”

“Strange… but that's all the side effects it listed,” Deaco smiled, on the way a doctor smiles when they tell you should just get more sleep. “Let's meet up after dinner, kay?”

Neville nodded, holding out his hands in a cup for the liquid to deposited.

It was warm, like a cauldron left out in the sun. Lifting his hands to his face, he started to drink; it tasted like wild fruit and fresh river water. It was heavenly.

“Taste like chicken,”

Neville lifted up his head to see Draco rubbing His hands into his neck. Neville mirrored the action.

“Chicken?” Neville asked.

“ Some sort of meat,” Draco clarified, “didn't it for you?”

“No, mine tasted like raspberries,” Neville answered.

“OoOo I wonder if the taste has something to do with the animals we become,” Draco thought out loud.

“Does that mean I'm a rabbit or something,” Neville asked hasterly.

“I hope you’re a niffler, then” Draco said, “they're so cute. Or maybe a pygmy puff,”

Neville frowned, Draco Smiled.

“I hope your an… um…snake,” Neville mumbled

“I've gone off snakes,” Draco retorted

“OK a ferret then,” Neville laughed at his own brilliant joke. Draco hit Neville lightly on the arm in protest.

“Don't you dare. I'll kill you if you manifested that,” he threatened

“Hey,” Neville laughed, “I thought you were pretty cute ferret,”

Draco frowned, Neville Smiled.

“Coo Coooo”

Both boys jumped.

“Merlin, Almighty,” Neville breathed out. The coo coo clock mounted on the wall alerted the boys to the fact that dorm mates would be waking up by now. Thank goodness for Draco Strange sense of decor.

“Oh fuck,” he jumped of the sofa, pulling Neville up with him, “accio,” he said getting both Neville and his’ bags.

They both started running. Cloaks flying up, Neville dress shoes and Draco’ boots clattering on the stone floor.

“See you later! Alligator ” Draco yelled.

Once Neville, discreetly walked in to the great hall he could see Gryffindors sat sparsely along the table. They were still so gloomy. The Quidditch loss had hit them yard, and there was a perpetual state of bitterness.

He sat down, but his feet felt especially heavy.

“Can someone wake up Oliver, he's was reading a sad muggle book last night and went to bed at 4,” A seventh year girl yelled.

“I'll go,” percy sighed

Wood had been a sad sight. One he could almost compare him to snape he pure misery he exuded although since his puddlemore contract had been signed he was more cheery.

“Neville where have you been?” Dean asked over his eggs.

“Posting an owl to my cousin. She's not been feeling well,” Neville lied easily.

“You have a cousin?” Harry asked from across the table, glare fixed on him.

“Yeah 3 actually, on my dad's side,” Neville answered. Harry, who had been particularly annoying as he seemed to take any and all opportunities to insult Draco, turned his head to face ron.

“did they already graduate,” Seamus asked. Neville nodded. Neville then sneezed so loudly it echoed across the Hall. A few Hufflepuff turned to stare before giggling. Seamus looked at him, with a smile.

“Bless you,” Hermione said, still revising.

“We better be headed off of we don't want to be late,”

From the other side of the hall Neville heard a small cuffufle and then the loud reverberations of zabini laugh. Neville cracked his head around, to face the scene of Draco who had evidently fallen flat on his face. He was lying on the fall, legs kicking the air, refusing to stand like a small child who had fallen and wouldn't stand up again. Like a tantrum.

“Draco, haha, the fuck you just fell,”

“Shut up! I'm tired!!” The muffled voice of Draco sounded. He shouldn't be able to hear Draco words though… too far, too quite. How could he hear? Was his animagus form at work?

With the help of blaise, Draco stumbled up, his legs unusually wobbly, beat red and laughing. Neville restrained a laugh and ran to catch up with the group.

Neville fell in to step with Hermione who was look like she was about to cry or yell. He couldn't quite tell.

“You o-”

“Shhhhh” she interrupted Neville's question, “if you ask me that I might cry, or hit you, I'm not sure,”

Neville nodded his head. His teeth felt suddenly itchy. unbearably so, he lifted his hand to reach it but then Hermione grab his hand.

“It's not fair Neville,” she exclaimed

‘Hmm?” Neville did his best not to sound pained.

“Draco only got one point less than me!”

Neville tried to think of a reason why that was unfair but then gave up and looked at Hermione skeptically. Was she always this short?

“Wait. Let me explain, I'm promise I'm not being bitchy,” she said

Neville was slightly surprised at the crude language. Since when did mione swear so loosely? Just like Draco.

“OK, maybe a bit bitchy but… he never pays attention in class. I've literally see him read almost every lesson. He does have good taste in books though. He lets me borrow some of them. Wait, I'm getting off track. The point is that he shouldn't Even be passing. Oh God it's infuriating how smart he is!!!”

Nevile started laughing.

“It's not funny!” She laughed, “he is so annoying! He distracts me from my lessons all the time! He tried to get me to play rock, paper, scissors while I was revising yesterday,”

“What's rock, paper, scissors?”

“What?” Hermione blanched, “wizards don't have rock paper scissors?” she did some strange hand movements to accompany her point. It look similar to a game he use to play with his cousin

“No, is it like cloak, stone, wand?” Neville asked.

“Wizards are so weird,”

“Says the brightest which of our age,”

She abruptly stop in front of Professor Lupin classroom.

“It's going to be fine Mione, you'll do great,”

“Thankyou Nev,” she breathed out and then smiled at him, “ I can do this, and so can you!”

Neville remember how stress Hermione was last time, she was horrible at managing exam anxiety. Always so stressed she would be held back a year.

“Hello, children! Gryffindors and Slytherins. Welcome to your third year Defence against the Dark Arts Exam,” Lupin Smiled, “now badger and eagles have already completed their exam and all pass so I have no doubt that all of you will pass!”

Neville sat against the wall to watch his classmates attempt the obstacle course. It was quite ingenious in its design, testing each skill carefully. Before long most of the Slytherin had gone and only Draco remained. Neville turned to face Draco to give a smile of reassurance or a subtle nudge of beliefs but then he saw Draco eyes. They were so cold. Draco eyes were the gray of storm clouds ready to fall, icy water reflecting the moon, and frosty spells of healing. But they were darker than that. Draco was scared.

Scared of what? Was the potion going wrong?

No, Draco was staring. Staring at the course. Was he scared of failing the test? No, that was silly. With more focus Neville placed his gaze on the course again, analyzing it for the perpetrator of making Draco so upset.

And then it. Oh how simple. How deceptively simple. The bogart.

“Who's Next,” Professor Lupin yelled. By the trend of Slytherin, Neville knew Draco would be next. No he couldn't let that happen. Draco might cry, and he wasn't sure he was equipped to deal with that.

Lupin gaze landed on Draco. His mouth clamped shut. Lupin had spotted what Neville had. The man's gaze drifted to Neville, waiting, asking for a response.

Neville shook his head, minutely. Luping Nodded.

“Miss Granger, you next”

Hermione stood up from her chair and calmly walked to the start of the course. With ease she skillfully defeated each and every obstacle. Perfect posture, hand movements and pronunciation.

Neville slowly moved his hand to Draco's side, tapping him cautiously. Slowing the blond's moon skin hand dropped to meet Neville and clasped it. He was cold, icy.

Hermione was at her bogart now, the last question, Draco grip tightened.

The loose concept of fear crawled out, contorting itself into a painting of Professor McGonagall.

Her Scottish yell, sounded “Miss Granger, you failed everything. Your expelled-”

“Ridiculous!” She yelled.

Neville smiled. She had done it.

“Well done! Well done!” Lupin shouted, smiling broadly at his student's success.

“Potter,”

Gryffindors one by one came up to be assessed, Neville noticed two thing. One: he wasn't called and two: Lupin was taking a suspicious long time to reset the course, each time. As if he was purposely trying to waste time.

“Oh dear,” Lupin sighed. “It's look like I've run out of class time. Now who's left. Mr Longbottom, Draco. Ahh sorry but you boys stay after and do your test now, during lunch,”

Draco nodded slightly.

“Ahh thank you,” Lupin Smiled, “the rest of you enjoy your lunch, or not. I know some of you need to revise for divination.” He smiled.

Like that most of the class stood up and ran out, shouting for joy or groaning depending if they had Professor Trelawney in their future.

“You want me to wait with you.” Hermione asked, curiously facing both him and Draco.

“No its OK. Save me some food though,” he asked. Hermione nodded and left to join Harry and Ron (who had apparently stopped fighting with her).

From the other side there was a group of Slytherins. Draco ripped his hand away harshly from Neville's before they could see.

“awwww Draco, do you want us to wait with you?” Nott said, mimicking Hermione, in an awful high pitch voice. Then laughed.

“Go away!” Draco said smoothly.

Zabini laughed.

“Save you some food, yeah?” The Italian boy said.

“You know me so well,” Draco said dryly.

“Yeah yeah, let's go pans, Theo. The master at work,” Zabini said sarcastically.

And then they left.

Draco immediately reached for Neville's hand again.

“I don't want to do this,” he said plainly.

“Why?” Neville asked, “you'll be fine. Sir and me are right with you,”Neville reassured.

“No. Neville. I don't want to do this,” he whispered, “what if its him?”

“Then I will be with you,”

“Draco what's up?” Lupin said coming back from resetting the course. “Exam nerves?” Lupin asked.

Draco cringed, before nodding.

“You'll do great. Your one of my best students, I would have loved to be half as good as you at your age,” he smiled. “I had a… friend, gifted like you, mind he was as confident as a boy on amortentia, but he didn't try. Not at school, not in life. Didn't get him far. But you, my genius student, do, not as much as I would like but you do try. And that's what is important. Just as long as you try, and I can't expect anything more.”

“Can Neville go first?”

“Sure,” Neville spoke. Lupin sighed.

“Up you get champ.”

Unsurprisingly Neville was rampaging through the obstacles, though using his wand still felt like swimming through honey. For a second he thought he cracked it from the sheer amount of magic he had to push through it.

Bella climbed out of the wardrobe dressed in her madness. Hatred was such a weak word. It implied willingness to let the object of the hatred live.

“Ridiculous!”

She crumpled in pain and trickled into sand.

“Ha, I think I missed the joke Neville, but good show regardless,” Lupin laughed clapping Neville on his back. “You have a knack of spells just like your mother. She used to tutor me you know,” Lupin said

Neville looked up. Lupin was giving him an apologetic smile. Were they friends? Lupin and his mother? They were similar enough. Kind and smart and Noble.

With a flick of the werewolf wand the course reset itself. Neville knew he could of done it faster.

Wordlessly Draco got up, and walked over to the course.

Both Lupin and Neville stepped back, ready to intervene if necessary.

Deft precision, marked each of his enemies. One wave and soundlessly his opponents were defeated.

“Wait, I didn't teach him that,” Lupin whispered to himself. Neville snickered. Draco was such the show of. He wasn't even running, just quietly walking through, waving his wand on occasion.

He stopped a meter shy of the bogart. Too close for Neville's sensibilities but he restrained his need to jump in.

The bogart crawled out.

It is wearing a cloak and mask. A death eater.

He knew that mask. A strange mix of Bella and Lucious Malfoy. Strangely soft.

It was Draco's.

“Ridiculous!” The first time he spoke.

The spell was so strong the bogart cried in pain and was flung back.

Lupin said nothing at first.

Just stared.

“Mr Malfoy, would you like some tea? Neville run along, I'm sure Hermione waiting for you,”

Neville was going to argue, Draco needed him. He was going to voice that but the look the professor gave. Fear.

He was scared.

The man was scared.

Neville turned to Draco, the blond nodded giving him permission to leave.

“Bye Sir, Draco get me if you need me, I'll see you after dinner,” he said, unconsciously grabbing his necklace. Draco had put an extension charm that could extend and shorten the chain at will. He grab the pendant, and raised it to Draco, showing that he was only a thought away. Draco Smiled and waved.

Neville left reluctantly turned, wishing he could stay.

Draco

Remus poured the tea very slowly onto the chipped teacup infront of him.

“I'm sorry Draco,”

Draco paused. Sorry for what? Sure the dementors thing was bad but he couldn't have known.

“For treating you so poorly for the first few months,” he sighed

Draco stiffened. Yes Lupin had been… weary of draco but never cruel.

“It was unfair of me and ther-”

“I know why, it's ok,” Draco interrupted, “I remind you of him. Don't I?” I wasn't a question. It was a statement said without remorse or rage.

Lupin nodded gently.

“I don't think he did it you know,” Drwco said quietly.

Lupin looked up startled at the words, wild eyes and taught expression. He looked angry. “What did you just say,”

Draco needed to fix his blurting out problem.

“I don't been he did it,” Draco said, cringing.

“That man killed my best friends,” Remus lowly growled.

“Potter was his best friend too! You really think he could betray them like that!?!” Draco said forcefully. He didn't know why he was arguing. Why he was trying to prove his cousins innocence.

“He wasn't an angel, he was capable of it, he's just like his family,” Remus clamp his mouth shut in pure rage.

He was just like his family

Draco looked up, tears were starting to form. Why was he crying.

“Please Mr Malfoy. Draco, I don't mean to upset you,” Remus said coldly.

“I'm sorry, I should of said anything,” Draco apologized. It wasn't Remus’ fault that he didn’t know.

“no, no. You are only a child. I shouldn't be angry,” Lupin said gently.

But Draco wasn't a child and he didn't want to be treated as one.

“Thank you for the tea, sir” draco stood up. He wasn't going to be patronized. Not by Remus. Not by anyone. “Good bye,”

“Wait Draco. Please I would still like to talk to you,” Remus said, standing up also.

“I believe Blaise is waiting for me,”

“Mr Malfoy,” Remus said sternly, “if you don't have this conversation with me, you will have it with your head of house,”

Draco paused. Severus or Remus.

Draco returned back to his seat.

“Thank you,” Remus said, surprised. “Well, I wanted to make this talk comfortable for you by apologizing first but it appears that was the wrong decision on my part” he looked at Draco like he was a problem needing fixing. “There is no way to put this delicately.” He paused trying to find the right words. Was that death eater your father?”

Draco looked up, panicked. How was he going to explain his bogart. Lupin thought it was Lucious? Of all people. Their masks were in no way similar.

“I thought so,” Remus said as if Draco answered. “Mr Malfoy are you safe at home,” he said gently.

“I don't live with my parents and no that death eater isn't my father. I just don't like death eater. Now I would like to leave.”

draco reached into his cloak pocket where he kept his cigarettes. Playing with the lid.

“Are you sur-”

“Yes I'm sure,” Draco said again, “I'm leaving now,” Draco got up for the second time, “you can tell sev all you want I don't care,” Draco was getting irritated now, tears long forgotten. How dare Remus force him into this conversation and then asks such questions. How dare he assume things about draco life. How dare he. “It's not like he do anything anyways,”

Severus didn't do anything to protect Draco. Nothing. There were always rumors that he was a double agent. Tori tolled him that their was a memorial made for him, commissioned by Potter but Draco never believed it. Never. Because if he was on the right side why did he never save him?

He was walking to the door now

“Mr Ma-”

“I told you to call me Draco! My Fucking name is Draco!” Why couldn't he call him Draco? He opened the door and slammed it back.

And smacked into a figure. Potter. Oh this day couldn't get anymore.

“Watch where your going Ma-”

“Fuck of,” why couldn't people just call him Draco.

Potter eyes widened.

“What did you ju-”

“Shut up! No one fucking cares,” Draco said walking away. He just want to have a smoke.

“Come back her-”

Draco casted a body bind.

And the ran. He could here faintly the sound of the door opening and Remus’ voice.

He didn't know how long he was running for but he found himself in the forbidden forest. Snuggled up next to a tree, a cig in hand watching the Thestrals graze.

It had been a two hours he was sure as the sun was beginning to fall the west but Draco didn't feel the need to move. He didn't miss an exam but he did skip the lesson he was supposed to have with Albus. And Blaise was probably wondering where he was.

He reached for his necklace.

But before he could do anything it warmed on its own

Draco where the FUCK are you.

Major FUCKING Problem

WORK OUT WHY SIRIUS IS HERE!

Chapter Text

Neville 

What?

I'll find you. I'm in the forbidden forest.

Draco responded just as soon as Neville let go of his pendant. He was hiding behind the pumpkins watching Hagrid hand the rat over to Ron. How could he be so stupid? How many times had he seen that rat this year. How many times had he seen Peter Pettigrew this year. 

If he had just realized sooner. Again Trelawney was of some use.

Earlier that day Neville had been the first to enter the divination classroom along with Ron, Harry and Hermione. He wanted to get it out of the way so he could find Draco. 

“Neville, are you ok? You're Shaking,” 

Yeah out of anger. How dare Lupin send him away. As if he could comfort Neville better than him. 

“Neville I can go first if you want?” Harry said nonchalantly.

“N-” Neville was about to refuse when Trelawney yelled that she Was beginning the assessment and everyone needed to leave the classroom. The class was shuffled out and it took her a minutes doe her to realize she needed a student to begin her assessment.

She stumbled outside before pointing to Lavender who Neville remembered was chosen first in the last round. Then she hesitated and stared at Harry 

“Potter, you first. Things are much faster then they should be,” she announced.

“That was strange,” Ron commented when Harry went into the room.

“Can I go next please,” Neville asked.

Ron nodded whilst Hermione strangely stared.

“Are you ok Neville you look… angry?” She said, almost as she was questioning herself, “did your exam go well?”

“Yeah it was fine,” he said with some bite.

Ron turned to look at Neville assesively. “You sure? It's fine if you didn't Neville, I messed up on some of it too,” Ron said surprisingly softly.

“No,” Neville said before taking a breath to calm himself down, it wasn't them he was angry about, “no, my test was fine. It's nothing,”

Hermione looked skeptical.

Neville turned around to lean on the door. He shouldn't be angry at them. They did nothing.

Through the cool wood Neville could hear the conversation playing on the other side of the door.

“Mr Potter, i'm a little disappointed but i'm sure you did your best. Next time, use a triplet. It makes it sound more foreboding,” she said cheerily, the voice was so clear. His animagus form must be something with good hearing, a wolf perhaps. “Now Mr Potter. This is not part of your exam but do try to listen. Last time you barely used any of my advice, I took a good tea this morning so hopefully it'll be clearer . And you should also listen to this, help you understand him a little more,” Trelawney nattered. Wait. Was she talking to him? “It will happen tonight.” 

“S-sorry?” Harry muttered.

“The Dark Lord lies alone, abandoned by his followers,” Her voice was dark and shrill like a chorus of screams trapped in her throat ripping through her speech to escape. “His servant with a coat of fur has been hidden in the family of fire these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will bite free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant’s aid, greater and more terrible than ever before. Tonight … before midnight … the servant … will set out to rejoin … his master …”

“What?” Potter whispered in exclamation 

She coughed violently. “Oh. I need some tea. Well off you go Mr Potter,” she said.

“wait- What… huh?”

“I have other children to grade, my dear.”

“Oh yes, sorry…?” Harry stood up and walk straight to the door.

“Mate, how’d it go?” Ron ask before Neville got to close his dropped jaw.

“Good? Bad? Weird. Really weird actually. Like super weird,” Harry said. Harry paused.

“Are you going to elaborate?” Hermione asked after a moment.

“I'll tell you when we go to hagrids and had a chance to think on it,” Harry said.

“Longbottom!” Trelawney yelled from inside the classroom.

“Good luck Neville,” Hermione wished him.

The door creaked behind him.

“Mr Longbottom. I'm sure you heard out. The animagus abilities are coming in im sure,”

“You know about that?” He asked.

“I know everything my dear, I'm a seer after all,”

Neville nodded awkwardly.

“So what did we learn from my Prophecy,” she asked. “Yes. Ironically my most accurate predictions are the ones I can't hear,” she laughed dreamily.

“Umm, Peter Pettigrew is around? I think,” Neville said before really knowing what he was speaking.

Peter. Peter. Is here. He's going to escape today. Tonight. To Him. To Voldemort.

But where is he?

“Professor, I think I have to go,” Neville said.

“Yes yes my dear. I've already given you full marks. Not everyone is a subject of a Prophecy and listens to it as keenly as you and Mr Malfoy, but I must say be careful. My sight is usually not a gift,”

Neville nodded.

“Get out, I have 30 other children to mark. Follow the Potter boy trouble usually followed those three,”

And like that he found himself watching as they spoke with Hagrid, at the edge of Neville's hearing capabilities. The conversation dipped in and out, like a loud whisper drowned in thick stone.

It seems like Scabbers survived crookshank after all. The little scruffy thing was handed to Ron, in a bundle of erratic shifts and turns.

The small snarls of buckbeak were hard to ignore. His whole body told him to attack or run away from the perceived threat. God this aniagus thing was wearing thing. At least Buckbeak was chained so he couldn't come any closer; Malfoy senior hadn't been able to get anywhere with the animals conviction especially after Neville wrote to his grandma for her help in protecting the beast.

He could smell something too. It filled his nostrils so violently it made him want to turn in revulsion, it was like stale apples and wine, breadcrumbs left to rot and rancid chocolate. It smelt awful.

What was it? How was he smelling so deeply, was it his animagus form?

His eyes shot up, landing on the rat again. It had a finger missing.

Neville found himself raising a wand.

“Homeo Revelio minima,” he spoke. A pail blue glow emulated from the rat. He held his wand so tightly it felt like it would break.

No.

It wasn't a rat.

It was human.

Peter Pettigrew.

He stood, wand stretched in an extension of his hand. 

No. He couldn't do that. There was no telling how good his aim would be, if Pettigrew would run or if he would hurt Harry.

Grabbing at his shirt, Neville found his pendant. 

Draco, he thought. Draco would know what to do. How to act.

When he lifted his eyes again the trio were walking out of the hut.

Draco had responded, in confusion it seems.

Peter Petergrew is Ron's rat! We need to stop him. 

He paused to let Drack read that.

Following Har, Her, Ron. In the direction of the shrieking shack. 

STOP. NEVILLE DO NOT DO ANYTHING WITHOUT ME. DO BE A FUCKING GRYFFINDOR!!! OR I WILL KILL YOU

Neville kept to 40 paces behind the trio, wand out just in case.

Yeah. I'm not sure if we have the luxury of that. Peter could run ANY second.

I SWEAR TO MERLIN NEVILLE FRANK LONGBOTTOM, IF YOU GET YOURSELF KILLED AND I'M STUCK HERE ALONE, I WILL RESURRECT YOU AND KILL YOU AGAIN.

Stop fussing. I'm a highly decorated auror. i'll be fine… just hurry. 

Neville lifted his eyes. Something black and rough caught hid eyes. Sirius.

Hurry. Sirius shown up.

What?

WAIT. I THINK I can see you!

Neville trailed his eyes from the dog and caught onto the white blond hair reflecting the rising moon. He was to the west of the trio well out of sight. 

A scream tore through the air, ripping his sight to see a blur of action and cries. The dog was dragging Ron by his leg onto the whomping willow.

Good Peter wouldn't be able to escape.

“Neville, what the fuck is going on?” Draco said, fear painted so delicately over his pale feature, carving clear sickening swirls of anxiety in his sea coloured eyes.

“Target: Death Eater Peter Pettigrew. Being restrained by an unknown, Sirius, may be cooperative ; three innocence. Advice, level 3 spell and below,”

“O….k?” Draco looked shocked.

“preferably detain the target. Aware Animagus form: rat,” Neville said. 

He took a step.

“Wait,” Draco grasped his hand. 

“What,” it was a harsh response, more like an order or a reprimand. Draco unconsciously stepped back.

“It must have been like this last time? Wouldn't it be better to observe? We might be trouble than good?” Draco said, unusually quite.

“No. We in the past. We can fix things. Pettigrew must of escape last time,” he barked. “We need to act-”

“Neville, you're acting brash. We need to think this through, it be a hell of lot if we need to explain to the golden Trio why the he'll we fighting Weasleybe fucking rat?” Draco said. Quietly, wild eyed.

Neville contemplated.

“30 minutes, we wait 30 minutes,”

He nodded, begrudgingly.

Draco gently tapped Neville aside pointing his wand at the tree, casting a silent spell, The whomping willow arm shifted, creating a casism of wood, helping Harry and Hermione to follow after their injured friend.

Neville crouched, utterly focused on the tree.

Draco remained standing looking distantly at Neville, distracted.

Time must have past because there was no gold in the sky and the moon was proudly singing above the horizon.

“We need to go now. We've tried your way. We doing the auror way now, follow my lead,”

But Draco eyes dilated, pupils an unnatural shape, locking onto something above Neville's shoulder. 

“Duck,” 

Lupin was running, full on sprint to the trunk of willow, expertly ducking through.

“we wait then?” Draco said quietly, sitting 4 meter away from Neville Draco sat still.

“Yeah, I guess,”

Moments later, or many hours another man was running to the tree, ridiculous in his cape. Snape.

“That can't be good,” Neville grumble.

…

A while later a gaggle of people came walking out.

Draco barely moved to stare.

Maybe Draco was right. Waiting was the best option.

But then Hermione screamed, and Neville stood, alert. Draco stayed crossed legged. Staring up. The moon.

Lupin.

Werewolf.

“Awwooooo,” Draco shouted, still crossed legged.

“Draco!” 

“He was going to eat them,” Draco yelled at Neville.

“Run,” Neville yelled. Turning on his heels. There was no movement though. None at all.

“Draco!” 

 He wouldn't move, eyes transfixed on the wolf approaching them

“Draco!”

He rushed back, and grabbed the boy's hand from the floor, dragging him, lupin was only 70 passes behind them and rapidly approaching. 

Running was hard in his 13 year old body was hard but running whilst having to drag another 13 year boy who appeared to be catatonic was another.

“Draco!,” he shouted uselessly. Why wasn't he listening!

He was Running at least now but with nowhere near the urgency he needed to be having.

“Draco, what is wrong with you?” He yelled again weaving through the trees.

“Draco Malfo-”

“We need to run,” he yelled suddenly.

“What do you think I'm trying to do,” Neville said back

“Werewolves hunt prey, similar to humans, they will chase them and due to their superior endurance they will outlast their prey and eat them,” Draco said, if reciting for professor lupin in class. “We need to trap him,” 

“ok how do we do that?” 

“Can you transform yet?”

“I don't know, I think so?”

“Then do it, hopefully it be a faster animal than human,”

“What if it isn't,”

“Then we both die,”

“OK…. What then?”

“You go ahead I draw him. Once I pass you, use a spell to trap him,”

“No, you're barely running as it is,” Neville said. “He catch up,”

In response Draco, let go of Neville's hand, putting all his effort into running.

Fine

“Transform, transform, transform,” Neville repeated like a mantra. Over and over again. 

His finger popped, his legs tightened, eyes bulged, feet swelled, tongue stretched, skin thickened and hair grew at such an alarming rate, his whole body felt like it was convulsing from the outside in.

He was taller too.

Sprinting faster then ever he ran. On all fours he noticed. Ramming through air like a spell. Feet, or paws sunk their sharp claws into the soil, rampaging through the foliage.

He soon out paced Draco, completely leaving him behind. The world had darkened, strange colours, sound and smell entered his thoughts, sending his brain into a slurry of work trying to arrange itself into his new body. In a matter of moments he was rolling, falling into the soul of the forbidden forest, in a heap on very human flesh.

Standing up.

He turned to run behind a tree.

Hand outstretched, wand flexed. He waited for Draco to run past.

To his surprise it took several minutes for Draco to even be visible. His lungs were visibly trying to claw out of his chest. His tie was skewed, top button was undone and his white shirt was fighting to be un tucked.

His cheeks were red. Very red. 

Grey eyes locked onto Neville. He stopped just in front of where Neville wand was pointed, turning around on his heel. Breathing heavily Draco turned, staring down the werewolf that was rapidly approaching.

It was howling. 

Hungry.

It was hungry for Draco.

Running, foaming at the mouth, the wolf ran; ankles flexing in unnatural angles to accommodate for its speed. Faster and faster, its image become more pronounced as its body crept closer. Teeth gleamed in the moonlight. Its eyes as inky as the nights ocean, devoid of life.

“Vites carceris” Neville yelled

Vines, erupted from the ground, in thick tendrils of green, his wand creaked at the pressure. 

“Maxima,” 

They wrapped around it building a cage, securing themselves to the creature through thorns. His hands shook from the pressure, something warm pooled at the top of his lip and his hands started to bleed.

Snap

Opening his eyes he could see the wolf trapped, but still very much moving. Breathing. Growling. Right in front of Draco pail face.

Draco stepped back slowly.

And then he fell.

Chapter Text

Draco.

The stars were so bright, and wonderful. He could see every constellation like drawing in a picture book. Or the ceiling in his house.

“Draco,” Neville shouted, shaking Draco, trying to make him wake up.

He was so tired. His legs had never had to move that fast run that fast but they did. He looked so much like a Greyback. So much like a wolf, Draco nearly forgot he was a man.

“Draco, please wake up,” Neville asked again. Draco forced his spine to move, bringing himself to sit up.

Immediate strong arms wrapped around him in a tight hug, bringing them both close. He smelt like the earth and forest, tight in his embrace. Draco was sure he smelt sweaty.

“Oh thank Merlin you're ok. We did it,” Neville said in his ear. They kept that position for a while, Draco unwilling to leave and Neville not wanting to be the one to separate.

A rough growl however pulled Draco away from Neville. Lupin.

He was stuck in his mangle form of wolf. Teeth snarling and fur dripping with blood. His eyes were black staring intently at Draco. Only Draco. The vines holding him in place, growing thorns around him.

“You passed out . IT tried to eat you, my spell still stopped it but we shouldn't stick around much longer the vines will start to wilt,” Neville said, staring the wolf down.

“Don't call him an it. Are you sure the spell will break? I don't want Lupin to wake up in a vine prison,” Draco said softly.

“Yeah,” Neville stood up, “it'll break,” he reached out his hand for Draco to grab. It was bloodied and red. Prices of wood lodged into them.

“Neville my God. What happened?” Draco asked.

The boy soft face and kind recoiled slightly. “My wand,” he whispered quietly.
“I guess my spell was too powerful. I forced too much magic through it,” Neville said, eyes blank.

He pulled from his pocket a wand snapped in half. It was so unimaginably upsetting to see, so much like Draco wands. Up on the minister stand, snap in half before being burnt. A punishment of the highest order and yet Neville had to endure it just because he was protecting Draco.

“Oh… Neville,” Draco brought the other boy's hands towards him, guiding his wand over them. Enchanting them with blue light, mending the cuts and gashes until there was no blood left.

“Thank you,” Neville said, “it was my father's wand. I broke it in the first timeline too.”

Draco looked Neville in the eye. The man, no boy, was trying not to cry. Little tears were already forming in his red rimmed eyes.

Draco came closer, pushing into another hug.

“It was my dad's Dray,” the boy sniffled into Draco's shoulder. “My dad's,” he whispered.

“I know,” Draco replied, hugging tighter, “it'll be alright. Your father wa– is a great man. He be happy knowing his wand was used to protect someone, even though it was just me” Draco said, lightly, reaching his hands to Neville's face to brush away hair.

“Never just you, Draco,” Neville whispered, “always you,” his honey brown eyes red rimmed and soft.

A growl came from the wolf again. Draco shifted though he didn't let go. Neville gave one final bear hug before he released the blond. Neville brown eyes looked at Draco, unwavering even when the boy turned around to stare at lupin.

“Oh.. Neville he's bleeding. I think the thorns are digging in,” Draco said.

“Do go near it Draco,” Neville shouted, reaching a hand out but missing the blond’s arm.

“I'll be fine,” the boy said, approaching the werewolf, ignoring Neville's concerns.

The poor man laboured it's breaths and it wretched on the floor. His fur rising up in sharp intakes of breath, eyes watery and black, legs clawing desperately. It was hard to see lupin under all the fur

Casting a spell, Draco watched as blue light encased lupin in a blanket of energy. It wasn't a healing spell. If he healed Lupin the thorns and roots would be stuck in his skin, besides when he detransformed most if not all the pinpricks of thorns will mend and seal as if they were ghosts of an injury.

“What spell is that?” Neville asked Draco next to the wolf.

“Pain killer,”Draco answered, sadly wanting to help more.

His eyes glanced the professor once again locking onto a red gash on one of the legs.

The blond boy stepped closer, kneeling next to the wolf, drawing something from his pocket.

“Werewolf blood is very powerful. Very rare and very expensive,” Draco started.

“Draco?” Neville questioned although he already knew where the scene was going.

“Mostly because it's illegal to keep, risk of accidental contagion, you know,” Draco rattled on. He has brought the crystal bottles Cassius had given him for Christmas. Perfect for collecting specimens on the go.

Carefully white pale hands reached against the gash of the wolf leg, letting the thick red liquid trickle into the container like a fountain.

“Why?” Neville asked, tired.

“So I can experiment. I'll see how my cures interact with the blood. It'll be a good indicator of if they work or not,” Draco said quietly.

“Fine. Just be quick,” Neville said, containing a small smile.

Yes Draco could use this. For Lupin. Not just as a way to test but a way to identify the root cause. He had been reading on muggle medical books recently and had found there were many experiments to be done on the study of blood. Diseases could be identified with just the red liquid, he hoped something similar could be done with magic.

“OK, five bottles. Should be enough,” Draco said soft breathed, “lest go, I hope Potter hasn't gotten himself into too much trouble,” Draco said quietly putting the flasks back into his pockets, along with his wand.

“Oh…. No…no,” Neville said, grabbing Draco by his hand and then started running, “Snape! What is he going to do with Sirius?” Neville yelled with more urgency.

“What do you mean? He must have seen Pettigrew. Understood there was a mistake?” Draco answered back but not slowly down.

“Snape is not a rational man,” Neville.

“Fair,” Draco agreed, dawning a face of anxiety as they ran through the forest.

Draco ran faster but at this rate it'll take them another 4 minutes to get back to the whoping willow and that might be too late. Neville as a bear could probably get there quicker but Draco would be left behind.

The sky was getting darker although the moon was still bright. Cloaks of black and grime hung heavy in the air. Dementors. They were hunting.

“I'm going to try to use my animagus form. A pretty sure I'm a mammal!” He yelled, already out of breath.

“Ok! I'll catch you if your a fish!” Neville answered smiling

Draco focused bringing his magic into himself. Warm glowing hum of energy shuffled in his stomach like a pack of dogs, jumping and tearing through him; as if to rip him a new body, a new flesh, a new mind.

His eyes sharpened turning shades of yellow and grey as he fell to the floor. 4 legs he noticed and he was fast, fast enough to keep up with the bear beside him. He had tails, and long ears. He was white except for his paws which were little black boots of fur. He was strong.

Darting through the tree, flowing through the air the two animals stomp away back to hogwarts.

“Professor, please stop! He's innocent!” Hermione yelled. A necklace coming free from under her shirt. She was shielding Weasley from the fight taking place looking up fearfully at the sky.

They group was a way of the whomping willow bit still close enough to be cast in its shadow.

“Be quiet you stupid girl!” Snape yelles, “he attacked me. Potter get out of the way!” he yelled, “the dementors will deal with him. A kiss, your first in years Black,”

Potter was standing in front of Sirius who had seemed to battered on the floor, ankle twisted.

“Scared snivilous. Scared you might be wrong? Don't see why, shouldn't this be normal for you?” Sirius sneered from the floor with an upturn frown and hateful eyes that seemed so uncomfortable familiar

“You saw Peter! You must have!” Potter yelled. frantic

“I saw a dead man? Another one of Black victims? Where is this ghost you speak of now?” Snape laughed. “Think boy. Think. Come here before the dementors arrive. I will not be able to protect you idiot children otherwise,” he raised his arms beckoning Potter whilst walking to where Hermione and Weasly were crouching.

“Harry it's no use he was unconscious! He doesn't understand,” Hermione yelled on the brink of tears.

Think, draco, think. What could he do. His stupid fucking GodFather was about to kill an innocent man.

Do something! Anything

Hermione screamed. It was raw and red as her face contorted in true fear. Her eyes were a perfect match of that day. When all Draco could hear were her screams radiating through the house like sharp jabs.

The dementors were decending.

She turned her head, using her body to cover Weasley.

“Expecto patronum,” a voice decidedly not Severus rang out in the clearing. Bright light emerged from all places in the clearing. Snape shrieked back as if he was the intended target.

Both animals turned to each other. Black and slitted eyes meeting, ideas forming. They both pounced in agreement. The bear opened his jaw as he ran stoping shy of Sirius neck. Clamping down on the man's worn prison uniform the beat ran out back into the forest, dragging the man with him.

Draco took the opportunity to bite Snape, preventing the man from taking chase. He teeth sunk in quickly, canine ripping through the fabric of the robes easily but just as quickly as he bit he released, disturb by the copper taste of blood.

Hermione was still screaming, although it sounded more like crying. Something shiny around her neck caught his eye. Of course. How could a girl be in more classes than physically possible? A time turner.

He needed to find Neville

Neville

Sirius yelped in pain as he deposited the man on the floor. A deep ugly purple bruise was forming the his delicate face under the fic layer of grime and soot.

“Err what the fuck,” he growled so much like Draco. Their eyebrows fell in the same way. Their noses so similar. Even the manner in which they blinked was almost identical. And yet Sirius was nothing like Draco. His eyes may be the same lovely hue of grey but they were cold, frantic, crazed. They were cruel. So much like hers.

They had lost Peter but atleast Sirius was someone safe. Deep down he knew Peter's escape wasn't his fault. He shouldn't really have tried in the first place. A Prophecy can't be changed after all.

“Right Mr bear. Appreciate you saving me from the big bad cloaks of evil but I don't want to be eaten, if that's OK with you,” he said as if Neville was human. Maybe Azkaban had changed the man.

“Right. You can't understand me. I'll just have to pull out my old trick. Right James. Like the good old days,” Sirius laughed to himself lifting his hands to cast a spell.

White glittery light escaped from the man, wafting through the air. It was to scare Neville, he realized.

Taking the opportunity to leave the man and find Draco, Neville made a rather impressive show of drawing back from the light in fright and running away, all while hearing Sirius laugh from behind.

What a strange man.

Draco. Draco. Draco.

A couple quick strides stretched by and Neville worried that Snape might have retaliated against the fox but a little blur of fur caught his eye, stark white in the dim black forest, a three tailed fox. Draco.

Neville ran towards the small creature regaining his two legs as he did so.

“Draco,”

The fox turned around before turning surely into a boy.

Draco ran towards Neville grabbing him into a hug and then casting a spell with his wand. OK, maybe not a hug as Draco clasped his hand over Neville's mouth.

A cool sensation dripped across Neville's body like rain. Notice me not.

“What's wrong,” Neville mumbled through the boy's hand.

“Look,” Draco said, pointing his hand previously on Neville's face towards two figures he had neglected to notice.

Their magic was strangely familiar.

“How?” Neville whispered into Draco's ear, “didn't we just leave them with Snape?” He said.

“Hermione got herself a time turner,” Draco whispered.

Suddenly so much was making sense. That girl was really in to places at once.

“Harry, I think it's too late for Peter. We need to find where the bear has left ,”

Draco whipped his head around.

“Where did you leave my cousin,” Draco whispered quickly.

“Only a hundred yards from here, he should be safe,” Neville answered in the same fashion

“Alone?” Draco eyes winded.

“Yes alone. Who was I suppose to leave him with? Buckbeak?” Neville asked, defensively and decidedly not calmly.

“I mean, I don't know. But alone? He barely looks alive,” Draco argued.

“He was genuinely creeping me out. Besides I wanted to make sure you're ok,” Neville supplied.

“I appreciate the sentiment Neville but we don't want Potter to lose a third parent…again,”

“It really wasn't my dad who saved us from snape,” Harry said easily, as if it was the most simple thing.

Both boys turned the head in alarm. Then they looked at each other. And then back at Harry. And back to each other

“What the fuck does he mean by that,” Draco mouthed.

“No. I'm sorry Harry. But your patronus would of made him proud”

“right… let's find Sirius,” he said turning around almost as if we was leaving Hermione in the woods.

Neville grabbed Draco's arm and followed.

There was Sirius right where he left him. Almost dead.

“Damn it Neville,” Draco whispered, “he can't creeped you out that much, why did you leave him,” Draco whispered.

“I would of cast a protection or healing spell if I had a wand,” Neville fought back. Draco's expression morphed into a shade of guilt.

“oh,” He whispered, a total lost for words

“Nevermind. Your right I should have stayed with him,” Neville conceded.

Children drew closer, Hermione drawing out her wand.

“Lumos, Sirius it's us. We come to rescue you before aurors get here. We need to get you of Hogwarts grounds so you can apparate,” Hermione explained. They weren't far of the boundaries of the hogwarts, it was a sound plan.

“Draco cast a patronus, tell Dumbledore what's happening ,” Neville ordered hurriedly.

“I can't,” Draco replied, shaking slightly.

“What do you mean? Out of magic?” Neville asked, sarcastically.

“No, it's not that, I can't cast a patronus,” He whispered, something akin to digust painted his voice. “I was never strong enough,”

Not strong enough? Draco Malfoy? He was the most skilled wizard Neville had met and yet couldn't cast a patronus. Most useful of defensive spells.

A sickening sense of dread washed over Neville in waves, paralysing him as he watched two children barely 14 carry Sirius towards safety. Doing what he should have. No wand. He was useless.. Neville hasn't changed anything. He had only made things worse. With all the time he had been given, the blessing of this time travel he had done nothing. Saved nothing. Worse yet he had made things worse. Draco was right. They should of found a way to go back to the future as soon as they landed back in time. There future might have been filled with death but at least it was certain. At least Harry was alive and Voldemort was dead.

He stayed unmoving watching Harry and Hermione leave.

He had changed nothing.

Saved nothing.

“Neville, we should go, find Dumbledore. He should know what to do,”

Useless.

Chapter Text

Neville 

He had escaped at least. Sirius. Draco's Cousin

Nothing had changed, nothing. They really hadn't accomplished much this year. Well, other then forcing another great Prophecy out of Trelawney mouth. Another Fate changer. Draco had rushed him after they left the woods, almost pushing Neville to get his hands checked. The taller boy dragged unusually behind.

“Draco, are you unwell again? What have I been saying about eating,” Madam Promfrey sighed as the two boys walked in. Her eyes were crinkled and her face worn so tired she looked as she was about to drop. There was blood on her apron. Probably Ron's.

“Sorry, Madam. It's not for me. I was helping Neville with a spell and it went-” Draco's eyebrows bunched together trying to gather enough mental sanity to order words in his mind to pass through his mouth- “...wrong. His wand broke and it splintered into his hand. I've healed it but I wanted to make sure I've done it right,” Draco said, still pushing the reluctant Neville further into the infirmary. His face was smarted with freckles of mud and dirt only barely noticeable, his bow around his neck so crooked it was going underneath his shirt collar. Oh Draco. How he did nothing for him, he had taken away his future and gave nothing in return. Oh Draco. Sweet Draco. Would he forgive him?

The woman tutted, “my dear boy, breaking your wand. I'm sorry, but at least it's after your exams,” she said, waving Neville to a bed. Sitting down Neville noticed the curtains tightly drawn to other side of the infirmary. Harry, Ron and Hermione, made it back before them then. or at least one time line version or them.

 “Now let's see, hmmm yes,” her eyes scared the boy's hand grabbing it between her own “good thing you came to check wand wood can cause nasty infection,” she pulled his hand closer to her face, “ahh nothing visibly wrong, well done Draco. Your mending ability is truly amazing. I wager you'll make a fine medi-wizard if you so choose,” She exclaimed worry lines slowly melting away. Pushing Neville hand towards Draco she traced the small white scars wrapping around his palm, “very good control on the magic flow,”

Draco looked up at that, a small smile creeping onto his face. 

“But we,” she said as if Draco and her were a team dedicated to caring for Neville, “should cast a diagnostic spell, here Draco,” she turned to face Draco, “i'll teach you,”  

Seeing as Neville had now become a living cadaver to Madam Promfrey impromptu medical lesson, he waited patiently for the spell to be cast. 

Raising her hand she waved her wand in swoop and encased the entirety of Neville's body but with no incantation waiting for Draco to copy. 

“Repeat after me, intelligere compositiones” She commanded.

“intelligere compositiones,” Draco said with an air of determination and a dedication Neville had not seen in Draco before.

“Good, soften your Rrs , you don't want the spell to be too sensitive. It might end up telling you about Neville's fall back in first year,” she chuckled to herself, ignoring Neville quite scowl.

“intelligere compositiones,” She said now with the wand movement. A litany of bright pink runes and symbol glittered across Neville sight, just a few inches away from his face.

He recognized this spell, it been performed on him hundreds of times, especially throughout his career of being an auror.

She glanced over the reading, eyes landing on a certain rune, breath caught and eyes hovered for several moments, before turning her slightly in a look of begrudging respect to the boy on the bed.

“Now you try,” she said not taking her eyes away from Neville.

“intelligere compositiones” Draco said softly.

An identical spread of runes appeared in the air only this time a pale blue.

“You'll learn how to read them, medical runes aren't taught until 6 and 7th year,”Promfrey stated quite clearly.

Neville could see the understanding in Draco's eyes although there was a mist of… difficulty. Not the easy breeze of intelligence that so often fell on Draco's face, he was Struggling to make out the runes.

He did have a rough last two years at Hogwarts, Neville supposed. More fighting, trying to survive, then learning. Professor Babbling had been ‘fired’ on the exact day Snape became headmaster. He was always so vocal on his poor opinion of blood purism.

“Well nothing wrong that I can see , but I would appreciate you staying here a while longer Mr Longbottom. Just in case a reaction does occur. You should be in the clear in about half an hour.”

“Can I not leave now? I broke my wand. It can't be less than twenty minutes ago now. I should be fine,” Neville argued, unsure as to why his urgency to leave was so needed. It's not like he had anything else to do. 

“That's for me to decide Mr Longbottom, now I have other duties to complete. Mr Malfoy could you keep an eye on Mr Longbottom, I'll will return in a minute. Three of year mated have made a series of poor decisions tonight,” she sighed.

The doors for the infirmary creaked opened with an angry mess of a man and Dumbledore following calmly behind him.

“Severus, my boy, I'm sorry I did not inform you of my suspicions earlier, but you must listen,”

“No headmaster, your suspicions are unfounded, I have already contacted the ministry, they will begin scouting the grounds any minute now” Snape argued back, ready to bite a bitter response thr linger on the tip of his tongue however pausing when he become aware Neville and Draco were present.

Dumbledore smiled.

“A young Draco and Neville ” he greeted, “I hope you are well, although that may be rather optimistic considering are surroundings,” Dumbledore said jovially. Neville did not miss the use of Draco given name by the man.

“We're fine,” Neville said gruffly which made Sanpe's eyes darken.

“Then why are you present?” He asked amusingly as if there mere presents was a crime.

“Severus stop yelling at my patients-” Promfrey tutted as drew near - “the children are all awake for you to ask questions now,” she bore her eyes at both men.

“fabulous,” Dumbledore smiled, “we can get this misunderstanding cleared up,”

“I hardly believe we can continue this discussion with others,” he paused looking at Draco and Neville with disgust. “Around,”

“We’ll leave,” Neville said, motioning his legs to get of the bed.

Draco pushed him back with a flick of his wand, tucking him in with the sheets.

“No you don't,” Draco said smiling.

Dumbledore chuckled, “it's fine Severus I'll cast a silencing spell. Those boys won't hear a thing. I wouldn't want to hurry them out now would we,”

“Fine… if you insist,” Snape said walking dramatically away.

Dumbledore winked and then followed.

“He won't cast one really,” Draco whispered to Neville ears, “at least not to block us out,”

Neville nodded turning his attention to the other side of the infirmary , obscured by white linen curtains.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione started, “You must listen Sirius is innocent! He really is!” She argued boldly.

“Yes, my dear child. I know,” Dumbledore responded gravely

“You knew!” Harry yelled, “how could you! And you let him rot in Azkaban,” his voice was crooked and cracked. Pubescence leaking through.

“Quite Potter, I am still not convinced. Black must be caug-”

Severus was cut off harshly by something, a spell perhaps, Neville speculated.

“I only had discovered this dark truth recently, a student of mine and I were practicing lagillmancy when I realized I had been obliviated myself,” Dumbledore said gently 

“A memory charm? Aren't those heavily regulated. Almost impossible to learn” Hermione asked quietly.

“Yes, but it was a time of war. I was foolish to agree but your father insisted,” Dumbledore said, words hung in the air waiting for someone to comment.

“My dad?” Harry creaked, almost choking.

“Yes, James. Always so smart. He wanted the secret keeper to be a secret. He insisted we were all obliviated, aside from Peter and Sirius of course. Not even himself or Lily remember the switch. I have been trying to petition the gamont to reopen Sirius' case for several months now,” Dumbledore said quietly. “But as things go with politics, everything has been rather slow,” 

“He.. really didn't?” Snape asked, voice tight. 

“No, he didn't,” Dumbledore said gravely 

A sharp intake of breath and the screech of a chair sliding harshly against stone vibrated across the room. 

“Pettigrew alive then,” Snape's calm voice filtered through the curtains.

“Yes, he's a rat animagus,” Hermione said slowly.

“Fitting,” Snape all but snarled. “I believe the children need their rest, Headmaster, we should discuss further in your office, the ministry will be here soon. I imagine auror are already running ” a rustle of fabric suggested Snape had stood up, certain in his thinly concealed attempt to end the conversation.

“Wait a second,” Ron yelled, “What about Sirius? You just gonna let him rot as an outlaw?” 

“I'm afraid there isn't much I can do Mr Weasley. Not without Pettigrew,” Dumbledore sighed deeply. “All we can do now is hope he escapes the aurors,” he sighed, whilst Snape made his way through the curtains and out of the medical wings doors.

“But if we were to find Pettigrew,” Hermione almost shouted.

“Then, I would say you need only time and perhaps a bit of luck,” Dumbledore said, Neville could tell he was smiling (or scheming) just by the sound of his voice. “three turns should do the trick,”

The time turner 

“We can't help them,” Draco leaned in to whisper. 

Neville turned to look at Draco. He had a hard stare on, boring into Neville, leaving him with no room to argue. But, a small hint of hope made known in the slightest upturn on his mouth, an almost half smile.

They would just have to have faith in Hermione and Harry.

“Headmaster Dumbledore,” a cold voice rang through the room, making Neville's stomach drop and mouth turn dry. A half tightened around his wrist.

Mister Malfoy's silky shoes cracked on the stone floor as he stepped his way into the room. 

“I hear you've allowed a convict to escape, Hogwarts safest place in the world,” the man scoffed, “standards must be slipping.”

“Lucious, a pleasure,” Dumbledore said duly, not dignifying his taunt with a response.

“Father,” Draco spoke quietly.

“Draco, what are you doing here?” Malfoy said snidely, a clear upturn in his voice as he spotted Neville beside Draco. 

“I'm assisting my classmate in an injury,” Draco softly, obediently.

It was wrong. Draco should be making snide remarks, puffed up paragraphs of how exactly he was helping, or at least be teasing Neville. 

But Draco remained silent looking directly above Mr Malfoy in sort of a haze of not being quite there.

“Yes, I can see your charity work,” the man said, looking at Neville once again. He swished his head, blond hair -a more warm yellow then Draco white blond- flying behind him.

The man opened his mouth but Dumbledore cut him off, “yes young Draco here is quite the valued member of our school, a see a Malfoy prefect or even head boy in the future,” Dumbledore said lightly but there was something hard in his eyes. Something hateful. Just for a second before softly turning to smile at Draco.

“Well yes. He is my son,” Malfoy said as if that explained anything. 

“Yes, he has certainly inherited Narcissa's smarts,” Dumbledore smiled. “But Lucious I must ask why are you here?” Dumbledore said jovially.

“Family business,” Lucious said full of pomp as he waited for a response from Dumbledore. None came.

Malfoy opened his mouth a second later, “Sirius Black, he's unfortunately my wife's cousin. Some lunatic has been trying to reopen his case for months now and Narcissa has been appointed as family representative as the current head of House Black is unknown. My wife is in France at the minute and the responsibility has been saddled to me,” the man almost looked annoyed but his pureblood feature truly didn't allow his face to contort into anything but a sneer.

“Have the auror caught up with the fellows yet?” Malfoy asked, “I presumed he would be kept here under a sedative.”

“No, I imagine the auror will be rather disappointed with the result of this hunt,” The old man smiled at his own words.

Malfoy took a breath looking as hateful as he always did. “Pity” he turned to stare at Draco , “i'll see you at home Draco, if im not in Germany.” Turning sharply on his heels, not even offering a goodbye to the headmaster he walked only a pace before smaking into something.

A child. No two children.

“Potter,” Malfoy sneered, “shouldn't you be tucked away safe. There quite the killer on the loose,” Malfoy drawled.

“Yes, I'm aware Mr Malfoy,” Harry all but barked. His green eyes were intently focused on the robes of Mr Malfoy, sporting the same sort of focuse that Neville had seen a hundred times when Harry was looking for the snitch.

“Mr Malfoy,” a timid voice next to Harry.

Malfoy barely even bothered to face Hermione.

“Unfortunately, I must leave,” he stepped through the children and out the door.

“Wait,” Hermione said pleadingly. The man halted his steps and turned around.

“Yes? Girl, Speak”

“Would you have happen to have seen a rat,” she said quietly looking at the floor.

Malfoy paused, confused disgust.

“Pet of yours? You muggles are so strange,” he chuckled. 

He walked away without another word.

Dumbledore only sighed. “Was your hunt successful?” He offered the children.

“Malfoy has him,” Potter whispered almost inaudibly. 

Draco stiffened.

Dumbledore look like he was going to comment before thinking better of it.

“Of bed you two or Madam Promfrey may just have my hide. No good a child staying up late now when you have a whole summer to dedicate to that venture,” Dumbledore said calmly, “do not lose hope,” 

Both Harry and Hermione looked as they didn't agree but exhortation had obviously caught up to them and they simply did not have the energy to argue.

“Goodnight,” he said, “Draco, Neville I believe it's time to return to your dorms. I'm sure Poppy would be happy with your health and would love the pleasant company before I may brave the minister as I'm sure he'll be popping by any second now,”

“Of course headmaster,” Neville said, lifting the blanket off of him with a flick of his wrist.

Both Hermione and Harry visibly stilled but remainder silent.

“I would love the conversation,” Draco said earnestly.

Draco

Draco waited until Potter walked out and was a long way away before entering the classroom. Lupin was packing up. Although, unlike last time, Snape hadn't revealed anything about his werewolf nature Lupin had still decided to leave. There was a clear look of guilt written on Lupin everything Lupin saw him in the days following Peter Escape.

Draco had thought he had glimpsed one of the man-s thoughts early in the morning. A strong and vile disgust and fear of himself. A faint memory of attacking children. His own hatred of his own uncontrolled self.

“Professor?” Draco said quietly. Draco was dressed in his own clothes, soft gentle day wear covered Draco in pleasant shades of blues and whites. Though his boots seemed to be shedding some sand on the floor.

The man flinched and started out of his work of carefully folding away worksheets and assignments. Lupin was really such a good teacher. One of the best truly, Dracp didn't think he learnt from anyone else just as well. He looked haggard. There were pinpricks of scabbed skinn littered all over his arm like freckles and his eyes were sunken in and tired.

“You really do look like him,” Lupin whispered almost to him self.

“Sorry,” Draco replied, stepping forward.

Lupin eyes lit up with panic, “No, no, don't be, I uh, I mean, I,” he mumbled out.

Draco laughed.

“I didn't mean for my unfortunate genetics, I'm sorry for shouting at you the other day,” Draco said almost shyly, “I brought chocolate to apologise,”

Lupin face darkened and he stepped forward in unusually strong strides. Placing his hands over Draco's shoulder.

“No, I was the one being cruel, I'm sorry Draco. I should have been more patient with you. I have been unfair to you this entire year through no fault of your own,” he said looking Draco in the eye.

“You were only trying to help,” Draco said evenly.

“Let's sit,” Lupin said suddenly, using his wand to summon two chairs his way, Draco said nervously. He only wanted to drop his chocolate and run. 

Draco stared at the man unwilling to make the first move. He felt like he was stuck in some sort of hellish job interview crossed with an unlicensed therapy session. Not to mention that Lupin looked ridiculous in the child size chair he sat in with his legs bunched up trying to reduce his size.

“Draco, I will ask you this again, and I need you to know that it's because I want to know your safe,”

Draco did not like the sound of that.

“Stop,” Draco said, shoving his chocolate to Lupin, “I came here to apologise and give you some rather expensive chocolates, nothing else, Sir” Drsco drawled. He would not be stuck here like some child.

Lupin's face fell.

“Ah, I see. I've lost your trust,” Lupin sighed, he said it like it was a mortal wound.

Draco sighed.

“I'm not him, You know. We may have the same eyes, the same pasty skin, the same mean smile. But I'm not him. I don't need your help. You don't need to save me,” Draco said. He was not not Sirius. Not loud and angry, whose life was taken from him far too young. Not anymore 

“No, no, you're much kinder than he ever was,” Lupin whispered.

“I doubt that,” Draco said standing up and walking to the door.

“You're a sweet boy Draco Malfoy.” Lupin said, “I'm sorry I didn't get to know you… And thank you for the chocolates, I will enjoy them,” Lupin said softly. And to his surprise, Draco heard no lies from them.

Draco paused, he didn't turn back but didn't make his legs move forwards either.

“I'll miss you Sir. You were a good teacher.”

Ravenclaw had won the house club, edging Gryffindor out by just a few points. There lack of the quidditch cup had really let them down. Slytherin hadn't even been in the running since two 7th years got caught brewing potions in the bathrooms.

Draco stared out of the window of the train as rolling hills and farm land melted into one big puddle of green in his vision.

“Perhaps you may find Pettigrew, Draco, in you home,”

“I doubt It,”

“One can not know if one does not try,”

He would have to return to the manor. Even for just a short time. If his father really did help Pettigrew escape, that rat would be long gone by now. But his mother would be there waiting for him at King Cross, expecting smile and chocolate in hand. He would also have returned to the manor at the end of the school year to accompany his parents to the world cup. He would have to inform Albus about the attack, no matter how the man argued that that sort of knowledge was dangerous in his hands.

And that thing his father mentioned. The head of House Black being unknown. That meant someone had either claimed it and remained hidden or the magic its self had been undecided. It was unlikely to be the former, Blacks were proud by nature, toiling in the shadows went against their beliefs. But magic not deciding an heir, that was plausible. Wait.

Wait. 

WAIT

He was the head of the House. It was him. Draco. How could have he been so foolish? Magic recognised him. That is why Grimmauld Place moulded around him. Why Kreature view him as his master. 

How could reopen Sirius’ case.

“Yoohoo, Draco!” Historia nudged him out of his downwards spiral and back into the real world.

“Yes Tori?” Draco sighed dramatically and loudly.

Baise chuckled deeply.

“Hey! I'm only waking you up because we have arrived at KingCross and you were spacing out so hard that you probably didn't even notice.”

Had he really been think for that long?

“Thank you Tori,” Draco said reaching for his bag and getting out of his seat.

“I'll see you lot over the summer,” Draco announced. And maybe he even would.

“You better,” Pansy remark.

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Blaise only said, “it's like you die over the breaks. You forget to reply to our letter all the time,” He said almost sadly.

“Thinks he's too good for us,” Theo snorted.

“Yeah yeah, Bye then,” Draco reaffirmed.

Walking reluctantly of the train and into his mother cold embrace.

He was definitely dropping of the face of the earth, this summer. He could already taste the salt on his tongue