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June 30th, 1997


The life of a young Malfoy was determined by a powerful wizard, Voldemort. Yes, it was a name that even Draco himself did not mention out loud, like many other wizards in England, he feared the sound of the name. It stroke the hearts of those who mentioned it, like lightning.

The seventeen year old boy's life was destroyed. He sat on the stairs of the astronomy tower, contemplating how much his life had changed. The Dark Lord awaited a report soon, but he had failed him. He couldn't do it. He was anxious and constant fear stalked him, it was disgusting. His hands couldn't stop shivering. He remembered how Dumbledore fell from this very spot minutes ago, and he closed his mouth with his hand. His stomach was revolted.

He wished things had never ended up the way they did. He was such a coward, and every part of his body knew it. He didn't went back to the manor with the Death Eaters, he stood behind on the tower. He only hoped, that maybe, if he had followed his own path instead of the one his father send him on, things would had turn out differently. Potter must have caught up with them by now, he heard the battle downstairs, probably the faculty.

What the Dark Lord asked of him was insane, and impossible. It was clearly a trap, he wanted him dead. But he also wanted Dumbledore dead, by his own hands. But it was a trap, otherwise, he would had kill him himself. Did he feared Dumbledore after all? Draco questioned himself. In the end, Severus did the deed. The Dark Lord was gonna kill him. The family money was draining slowly because of him. He didn't know how to politically communicate with his father's colleagues, let alone ask them for the debts they owed to the family. He needed a plan, and fast.

Draco's hands trembled, his father was the one who always handled everything in the family. Unfortunately, Lucius was to afraid to even think of betraying the Dark Lord, and his mother was practically no-one in this world. He couldn't count with them. He tasked Draco with Dumbledore's death, knowing that he was likely to failed. "They're going to kill me, probably." he said pulling his hair, and thinking about his mother who would probably end up trying to protect him or something.

It all depended on him now, and he was trembling to the knees even though he was sitting on the stairs of the astronomy tower. He had not eaten in days, he was unbalanced without energy. Who could had eaten knowing of what was to happen?

Draco breathed deeply, there must be a way, he kept telling himself. Success or escape. Failure was not an option. He couldn't breath, it was like the air escaped his lungs. He shook his head. "No." he said, there was no time to think about failure. Time was running out. He have to do it, tonight. He had to returned before anyone became suspicious. There cannot be any distractions. He had to remained calm. "Everything is going to be fine." He said, his life depended on it.

"No. I can't do it. I can't do it." He shivered.

What was he suppose to do now?

He could tell Severus the truth, and ask him to protect them? No. He failed to save Potter's Family, he probably wouldn't even try to save the Malfoy's over his own skin. If he die it was likely that his family would die as well.

"What do I do?" he whispered.

He stood up, and disapparated with a thundering sound, and within seconds he apparated at the Malfoy Manor. He couldn't stop walking, and was filling anxious. This was his home, but the Dark Lord had been using it for his deeds. If only there was a way to stop all of it. If that stupid Potter hadn't won the Triwizard Tournament, the Dark Lord wouldn't had return to power once more. That's it! The solution. He thought. Lucius, his father had a Time-Turner, he saw it once somewhere in his father's office. If the Dark Lord ever raised a finger against his family, he would return in time and kill him before he could go to Hogwarts. But there were risks with his Time-Turner, risks worse than death.

He stepped back, the Death Eaters were coming through the hallways of the mansion. He hide behind a door and when they move on, he continued to his father's office. That's when he almost had a heart attack. He was paralyzed, unable to move. Draco could not have even utter a cry or a breathe. "Oh, Draco, what a disappointment you are." The immediate words of Voldemort resonated his ears. Yes. He thought of his name for the first time, in his head at least. Draco knew he was going to die, Voldemort had discovered his father's time-turner. He was holding it on his left hand.

Involuntarily, tears began to fall through his left eye. He didn't know what to answer, there were no excuses to save him this time. "My Lord ... I ..." was the only thing Draco could say, but was quickly interrupted and he was given a serious face of disgust. "Why don't you explain what you were going to do, Draco?" He said, raising his empty hand pointing to someone or something behind the young Malfoy. He should never have turned around. His mother and father stood in front of him. The Death Eaters had their wands pointed at their throats.

"Draco." His father said to him with a calm voice.

"Now, Draco, take it." He turned to look at the Dark Lord. To his surprise he stretched out his hand with the time-turner. Draco didn't stop to think if it was a test of loyalty. Draco doubted he cared much for that, after all, he always killed his henchmen without hesitation. Shortly, Draco had the time-turner in his hands, Voldemort had forced it on him. He didn't know what to do. His hands trembled and nobody said anything. So he decided to break the Ice. "What do you want from me?"

There he lay, on the ground, the Dark Lord had slapped his face too fast that he did not see what had happened.

"Don't play with me boy, you know quite well what I want."

He watched from the ground as his father furiously glared at him, probably because of his stupid action.

"I'm sorry ..." he said without thinking about his pride. He was tired, Draco wanted to rest. But not everything was as planned.

He was hit by the Cruciatus curse. The pain was intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he lay... white-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain; he was screaming more loudly than he ever screamed in his entire life.

"Stop it. Please, my Lord. I beg of you." He heard his mother begging for his miserable life, and saw that his father only closed his eyes, and reacted to all of his cries like lashes on his back. Voldemort laughed in return.

"Do it, Draco." She said, and Draco realized what she meant. She wanted him to use it, but he couldn't leave them here. Not like this. Not with him.

"Yes, do it. Do it, Draco." Voldemort said mocking his mother, "Do it, and leave your parents alone here with me. I will ensure they suffer a slow tormented death." He kicked the boy on the back.

"You bastard! Leave him alone!" Narcissa cried. In a whined the pain had stopped. Draco tried to stand, but Voldemort kicked him in the ribs. "Dear, Narcissa. Maybe you will like to take his place?" He could heard his snakelike-voice in the room. But he couldn't see where he was standing. He tried to hold the pain, and looked up, to see him holding his mother by the chin.

"Yes." She replied sharing a tear. He was kicked in the mouth by a Death Eater, spatting the floor with blood. Draco began to turn the time-turner without a place in mind. Just in case.

"Draco, the funny thing about Time-Turner's is that you can't really change history. Only create a new one. Such silly cheats." Voldemort piercing eyes gazed at him with his wand on target. "Are you willing to run away, and abandon your family?"

"Draco drop the time-turner and obey him. Our Lord is very merciful and I am sure he will give you a second chance." The words of a foolish father.

"Is that so." Voldemort walked up to him. "I can see you trembling, Lucius."

"Surely, my Lord. You are testing the boy's loyalty. Otherwise, you would had kill him by now." His father smiled briefly. What was he thinking? Lucius was protecting his only son, surely his only heir. But Why? Why now. Draco thought deeply.

Voldemort looked at him from bottom to top and in a few seconds his father was hit by the killing curse. His body was send flying across the room with the Death Eater that held him, and Narcissa burst in tears.

"Don't tell me what to do."

Draco closed his eyes, he never thought he would cried for his father. He hesitated before using the time-turner. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do this to his mother. "Forgive me, my Lord..." Draco bubbled on his spit. "...My father's action have open my eyes to the truth." He rose and walked to his side and knelt.

"You learn quickly. I like that. Now do as you are told. Kill Narcissa, kill your mother for me." He was giving him another chance because he knew that he couldn't succeed. It was a mission doomed to failed, from the start. He couldn't kill his mother, he love her. "Prove your loyalty to me, boy."

He rose his head, and looked at Voldemort who had a big grin on his face. The other two Death Eaters in the room stared at him with their hands trembling. They were probably afraid that Voldemort lashed out at them.

He held his mother by the arm and help her out of the room. "I'll do it outside." He said. They where almost at the door when the killing curse was called upon in the room once more. His mother fell to her knees, and slammed on the floor, lifeless. "Mum!" Draco screamed on his knees so hard that he could not speak, and his throat burned him.

"Did you learn your lesson?" The Dark Lord said in a calmed voice, and he knew that it was his turned now. He was going to kill him. "Go on, Draco. Do it." He continued to taunt him about using the time-turner. But why? The Dark Lord smiled again.

Draco couldn't stand it anymore. So he did it. He activated the time-turner and put it into motion. He escaped reality, his reality called hell, without knowing what lay ahead of him. "I'll kill you. Even if it's the last thing I do."


Everything around Draco span at the speed of light. In short moments so many events occurred in the room that he couldn't keep up, he wasn't sure if they would ever stop spinning. He still couldn't speak, and felt burns through his throat. The room was shaking, and his body felt a little odd. He went sideways, before catching his breath on the floor. He vomited. Draco's vision was blurred, but he was glad there was no one in the room when the time-turner stopped.

Whatever was gonna happened next, wasn't anything good. What was he gonna do? Or even say to his parents? The time-turner began to burned in his hand, and he dropped it. The floor burned, and the time-turner vanished into ashes in the room below. It was destroyed.

There were no more chances. This was his only one way trip and he wasn't going to let his parents die this time. Fighting against dizziness, he rose and headed upstairs to his room. He didn't encounter any of the house elf's on his way up, which was a relief. His balance was still a bit off.

There were no signs of Death Eaters or Voldemort in his house. And it appeared that his height change a bit. How old was he now? Time-Turner weren't suppose to change the age of the user. Where in the hell did he landed. Draco tried the knob to his room, but the door was closed. He used a nonverbal Alohomora on the door. Great mistake. The Ministry will detect the spell and come take a look soon, anyways, he didn't have much time.

He opened the door slowly, only to realized that his hands were smaller. Oh, no. He thought. "What in the bloody-hell is this!?" Looking down, he saw that he was in a body of a kid. He could not believe what he saw, he almost screamed from the reaction. How was he suppose to take revenge on a body like this? "What the hell!?" He shot the door quickly and lay his back on it, breathing heavily.

He headed to the mirror in his room, it was still there, unfortunately for him. His hair was still short combed backwards, he wasted no time to mess his hair up. "Oh, Merlin. What in the bloody hell happened to me?" He was about to cry from his parent's death. Wait. His thoughts were a mumble-jumbo. His whole body had changed to that of a kid. He needed to get out of this nightmare, his heartbeat had risen. Even if he wanted to go back to the future, he couldn't.

He opened the door to get out. But then he couldn't get out, Draco was standing in front of his father. His father was alive! He screamed in his head. A tear fallen down his left eye. This was getting out of place and his mind couldn't take it. Lucky, he remembered to hide his hands behind his back.

"Why the hell are you crying for boy?" He looked at his son's gray eyes disgusted. "We can't go to Diagon Alley with you looking like that." His heart skipped a beat, Draco still couldn't speak properly, his parents were alive. It was a lot to take in, but it didn't matter. He had gained another chance in life. He wasn't going to waste it again. He finally spoke.

"I-I'm just happy to ...start my school year... You never know who are you going to meet." He remembered this day very well indeed. This was the day he met Potter in Diagon Alley. His father raised an eyebrow oddly and turned around. Draco followed after him.

He looked at his hand with strangeness, seeing a mark on it. A burned scar of an hourglass symbol on the palm of his hand. What did it meant. He placed his hands quickly in the pockets of his robes, and with his eyebrows crossed, he already had determination in mind. One goal. He wasn't going to risk everything to destroy an immortal-all-powerful dark wizard, right? This sort of thing needed planning and time to fulfill. Lucky for him, time was on his side.

"Father, can I get a few extra books?" Lucius stopped on his tracks and turned around. "What kind of books?" His cane hit the floor as he snapped his fingers, and one of the house elf's appeared. "You called for Dobby, sir?" The house elf said. Draco swallowed. This was bad. A bad idea indeed. Potter couldn't see him with an house elf, not like this, this was going to be a bad first impression. Yes. Just like that things can easily change. With the snap of someone's fingers.

Chapter Text

1 September, 1991

Malfoy Manor

Draco pleased his father with a cunning smile, a mask of course, hiding his true feelings in front of his father was a must do. He knew better than to screw up things this earlier with his family. Then the best image he could thought off in awhile came to his mind. His mother. She was alive! "I will ask mother to help me with this." He bit his lower lip.

Draco didn't waited for his father's approval, the teenager stuck in the body of a boy was already sprinting down the hallway faster than he could ever could in the past. He made a decision. Any punishment his father would give him later for his current behavior would be nothing compared to the feeling of being able to embrace his mother once again.

The last tears escaped his eyes, Draco tossed them aside at the sight of his mother, she sit next to the fireplace in the family. "Mum!" He spoke loudly running to hug Narcissa. "Draco, what happened to your hair?" she asked with a sweet tone. "Oh, is a bit of a mess, isn't?" He said trying not to move away from her arms.

"Do you want me to comb your hair?" she said to Draco took a few seconds to answer, "Is gonna be hard to deal with this everyday on my own, can you cut my hair a bit?" Narcissa placed her son's book about History of Magic on the table, and waved her wand around her son's neckline. "Your father is not going to like the cut-."

Draco thought about his past experiences, the details his father had taught him about keeping his hair in check was troublesome. As the years passed, Draco preferred to have short hair, he wanted a look similar to what he had during his fifth year at Hogwarts, a touch from his mother. A very loud voice screamed deep inside his very being. It told him to stop.

Draco knew his own nature; he was weak, a coward, a liar and a horrible wizard. "Honey, you can let me go-" Draco focused so much on the moment he forgot that his father would follow him, and just in time he came to witness the shameful behavior of his son. Lucius sighed. "What a disgrace." He hit his house-elf with his cane, and walked away from the door-frame.

"Narcissa!" He shouted from down the hall. Narcissa used her wand to get rid of the silver hair over her black dress and walked past her son as fast as she could to meet her husband in the hallway. Draco swallowed hard. This action could ruin his relationship with his father, no, this single move could had alter the whole timeline.

Cause and Effect.

He rushed his hair backwards thinking what to do. He sat and thought. How foolish his mother had been in the past, one single word from Lucius and she went running to him. He needed a way to get rid of the dark lord, and free his family. Draco took a good look at the room, it would serve for his lodging and planning room.

Draco stay behind, and picked up all the books from the floor. The covers were familiar to him, he remembered reading some of them, but what put a smile on his face was that he used to throw them all over the place for the house elf's had to pick them up and place them in order every night. Draco distracted himself by arranging the shelves to avoid joining his parents' argument in the hallway.

He badly wanted to yelled at his parents', but his fears chained him, Draco hoped that one day they will stop arguing about his future, and support him his decisions. The argument had ceased one hour later. It was late already, Draco knew by this time that he wasn't gonna meet the famous Harry Potter today, and his plan just went out the window. But he was a relief.

Thinking about a way to free the house-elf so Harry wouldn't hate him was bad enough already. Why didn't his father take his mother's thoughts into consideration about what was best for their son? Well, Lucius never cared what his mother thought. It had to be something else. Something was bothering his father. Besides his childish behavior, what else could had bother his father this much?

Draco's actions triggered something in Lucius. His father was worry about something. Draco assumed. It had to be about work or about the Death Eaters. He had to find out soon. Another half hour passed when Narcissa came back into the room. Her mother was a complete mess in Draco's eyes, fixing part of her dress that hung from her shoulder, Narcissa approached Draco.

"Merlin's beard, Draco. You're bleeding." Narcissa used a non-verbal spell to try and fix the wound on her son's hand. Draco's heart skipped a beat when he saw that Narcissa eyes widened. She recognized the symbol on his hand, but said nothing. "This is difficult. We will talk later." She began to wrap his hand in white cloths.

"Mum, your hair is a mess." Having an idea of what happened, Draco did all he could to not laugh about his parents tension, after all, a kid his age shouldn't trouble himself with such matters. "Thanks, mum." He said when she kissed him on the forehead. "I'll be right back." Narcissa got up from her knees, and left the room.

Draco first thought was that she was probably going to go upstairs change her clothes, and come down. He looked clueless when a sick thought struck his mind. Draco vomited behind the chair-arm.


Draco awoke early the next morning, and started packing stuff his father had bought him, but most of it were books. It seems his prayers were granted. The books were expensive, brand new, Lucius bought him The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 2) by Miranda Goshawk. Lucius always pushed Draco to be ahead of the class.

He wanted a gifted son. It was always the same old habit, but he couldn't accomplish that earlier on his past life. Draco put the book aside. The room windows where still shut, but it had to be daylight, the house-elf's had already brought him his breakfast to his room table. There was a soft tapping noise at his door.

And there's Lucius knocking on the door, Draco thought, his heart sinking. He didn't know if he should apologize to his father, the hell he didn't deserved it, but Malfoy's wanted to try, at least give him the benefit of the doubt. "Honey," Narcissa whispered, "Are you up yet?" Draco smiled. "I'll be right there." His body for some reason felt the same sensation he haves when he eats chocolate.


After convincing his mother to use apparition to get to Diagon Alley, Draco made sure to memorized the feeling, and accustom his new body to that feeling. Apparition could at least be an usable ability in his later years. His father had bought most of the things in his school list, but there was one last thing Draco had to be present for: his wand.

Draco was not prepared for this part, as it is the wand that chooses the wizard. What if he wasn't chosen? Could a wizard by chosen twice? In the past Death Eaters just take others wands and use those as replacement. They arrived at the narrow and shabby shop. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B. C.

As soon as they entered, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy." said a soft voice from behind a counter that led to a labyrinth of thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The old man approached, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop at Draco's soul. It felt like he knew something.

"I'm here for my wand," said Draco polite as possible. "Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. Lucius Malfoy's own offspring here at my shop." It wasn't a question. Draco didn't answered. He knew the old man was trying to get a reaction out of him. Like father, like son. He was literally calling him a brat. Draco tighten his fist.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Narcissa a piercing look. "Very formal— Mr. Malfoy. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?" Draco approached him. "I'm right-handed, sir." He measured Draco from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head.

As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Malfoy. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." Draco swallowed. He knew this info already.

But. would. he. be. chosen. That was the big deal.

Draco tried. Not even one. But dozens of wands. He had no idea what he would do if Mr. Ollivander knew about his trip through time because of his wand selection. But what if he was not chosen at all by any wand? Draco found weird, that the pile of rehearsed wands was piling up higher and higher in the floor, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to be.

"Not my first tricky customer this week. Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere, Mr. Malfoy." Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours. It seemed like he was not suppose to be chosen at all. Narcissa saw his son sweating, and cleaned him. "Mum, I am fine." Draco pulled the wool from his face trying to speak.

"Mr. Ollivander we are sorry to bother you. We'll go somewhere else." Narcissa was about to approach the exit door when Ollivanders returned with a peculiar box. It immediately called his attention. Maybe this was the right one. "It seems I am out of wands for you to try out. But this wand in particular was brought to me by a Hogwarts teacher." Ollivander took out the wand Draco's skipped a heartbeat.

"I wonder, now — yes, why not — unusual combination — yew and phoenix feather, thirteen an half inches, very powerful and fearsome wand." Draco felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Narcissa clapped her hands with joy. Mr. Ollivander leaned toward the boy, "Oh, very good my boy, well, well, well. . . how curious. . . how very curious. . . " Draco remember the wand very well. His mother as well. Ollivander was probably gonna spill the beams. Draco thought as Ollivander placed Draco's wand back into its box and wrapped it in silver paper, still muttering, "Curious. . . curious..."

Draco, "Sir, If I may, what so curious?" Mr. Ollivander fixed Draco with his pale stare. "Yes, Mr. Ollivander what's so curious about my son's wand?" Draco looked at Narcissa who had a smile, which he wished she did not have.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Malfoy. Every single wand. It so happens that the wand you are destined to. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when — it belonged to You-Know-Who." Draco felt sick, he wanted to puke once more. Why was he chosen by the wand that murdered his mother? And how did the wand ended here?

Narcissa interrupted, taking Draco's wand, and his arm, "I think we will expect great things from my son, don't we Mr. Ollivander?" Narcissa showed worry on her face, Draco felt her trembling hand, the future wasn't safe at all for the Malfoy's.

Draco stood thinking about his future, and Narcissa felt his hand trembled as well. The Dark Lord will want his wand back when he raises to power once more. This events were bad. Draco shivered at the thought of having four years before the Dark Lord rises. He wasn't sure he had the advantage anymore. Narcissa paid seven gold Galleons for the wand, and they left the shop in a hurry.

The clock is ticking, two hours remains before the Hogwarts Express leaves ...

Chapter Text

A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven O'clock.

Draco and Narcissa had arrived a few minutes before the train departed for Hogwarts. He saw the smoke from the engine that drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks, and he smiled.

"You seem please, darling." Narcissa knelt and cleaned his front ropes as Draco forgot to tidy up his clothes.

"Is this gonna turn into a habit of yours?" she said.

"Mum, do I really have to behave as father told me?" Draco rose his eyebrows displeased.

Narcissa gave him a half open-mouthed look and thought before smiling at her son. "Your father can be tough at times, but he's not like that all the time when he's with me-" She smiled like she was not sure if Draco would understand, so she continued, "... what I can tell you is that don't try to please your father in everything, follow your heart and maybe someday, he will understand who his son turned out to be." Narcissa kissed Draco's forehead.

"Not in public, mum." Were the words that escaped his mouth. Draco was already used to his old life and the way his father had raised him, not showing public affection was one of his father's ideas. He bit his lip remembering how the Gryffindors were always happy to share their feelings in the open which made him envy them a bit.

"Did you get your stuff on the train?" Narcissa pinched his cheek, "Crabbe and Goyle insisted on carrying my trunk-" Narcissa gave him a stern look.
"It wasn't my idea!" Draco replied.

"Right. Don't cause any trouble for your father, darling. Expect our letters on the weekends." Narcissa rose from her knees and Draco hugged like it was the last time he would ever see her again. "Love you, mum." Draco got on the train before it began to move.

Draco passed through the hallway between the students who already had their robes on and the others that still struggle to get their seats. Draco stopped near a window and watched his mother disappeared as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Draco felt a great leap of excitement for the first time in his life, the emotion was different from when he saw his mother alive, it was uncanny to him. He didn't know what he was going to do yet- but it was going to be better than his first-life.

He stood in front of a door to a compartment to contemplated his thoughts. This moment was the chanced he had been awaited, his second was the first time he would meet Harry Potter in this timeline. His hand trembled. The decision to open the door was uncanny. He was confident, Draco knew he could do it, it wasn't the first time he made a friend, but this was different, something else a company him this time. Fear.

But what would he say? He couldn't explain the truth to them, to anyone, ever. He had to start over again, and ...lie. Draco slid the door open finally without any thought about it and it was empty. The compartment was empty. There was no Harry Potter, no Ron Weasley, and no Hermione Granger. Draco gulped. What happened?

"Move out of the way," said the girl with the extra fluffy long jet-black twin-tails hair that appeared to be a fresh newcomer like Draco. "If you're not gonna sit can you get out of my way." Her voice was harsh and cold. It reminded Draco of his younger self. "Pardon me, " Draco moved aside to let her inside. "Do you need help with that?" He said as he saw her struggle with the trunk.

"I'm fine. I can handle this on my own. I don't need your help, blood purist." Draco frowned and left the compartment. Draco slithered down the hallway at the slugged-speeds. Draco stared at the ground. Did others really think such things about him? It wasn't his goal to makes enemies again. He needed an alliance. An army to help him defeat the followers of Voldemort. Then it came to him. He didn't need to confront Voldemort. He just needed to stop his return. He needs to prolong his return long enough until he can find a way to destroy him for good.

"Watch it Malfoy!" said a red-haired boy with freckles. Draco had bumped into Ron Weasley of all people, and next to him was a girl with curly hair, someone Draco knew very well, his nose have suffered because of her hands.

"If it isn't Weasley and the mud-" Draco stopped in his tracks. On either side of Draco appeared his two bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle. "It was my fault. Pardon me," said Draco.
Ron's mouth fell. Hermione stared at the boy confused. Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other stunt.

Draco looked at Hermione blankly for what seemed an eternity and left. He didn't want a backtalk again. This wasn't his plan, but no matter how much he lied to himself it was gonna be difficult to execute his plans. He couldn't have changed over a single night. This was gonna take him time to get used to. For Draco's relieve no one followed him. Draco found the compartment where the brutes took his trunk empty and sat down.

Draco thought of his next move. He didn't know how much the past could change by one single action, but if something minuscule as changing house occurred, it could change the future completely. He needed to stay in Slytherin. He had to keep Harry, Ron, and Hermione together in Gryffindor. It would be better to introduce himself after everyone is sorted into their own houses.

The door slid open and Crabbe and Goyle appeared.

"Vincent, Gregory please leave me alone. I want to be alone for a while."

"Everywhere else is full," said Crabbe. "Where do you want us to go?" said Goyle.

"I don't know. Go get something from the trolley or something."

"Sure, Draco." Said Goyle. As they were leaving, "Oh, and do me a favor would you? Go by Zabini's compartment. Tell him that I want to talk to him when he has time." Crabbe and Goyle nodded and left the compartment.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door of Draco's compartment and the round-faced boy came in, Draco knew him as Neville. He looked tearful. "Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?" Draco shook his head. Neville wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"I'll buy you another if you want," said Draco.

"Thanks, but that one is special to me," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him. . . "

Neville left.

Draco tried to be nice. At least tried to be different this time around, but his face got red, his fist clenched and he frowned. That good for nothing refused his help just like Harry Potter did. They all think to be above his help. Like if he was nothing, maybe they are right, Draco was nothing but his father's shadow. Draco had just raised his head when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy-Neville was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Oh, is you. Have you seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth just how Draco remember her.

"I already told him that I haven't seen it, but I'll be willing to buy him another, is the least I can do to help." Said Draco, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at him.

"Do you wanna talk?" said Draco.

"Are you going to apologize properly this time?" Hermione replied. Draco nodded.

"I- apologize for my rudeness earlier. I didn't mean to bump into your friend earlier-" Draco answered, and Hermione sat down opposite of him.

Neville looked scared.

Hermione cleared her throat, "He wasn't my friend. I just happened to stand behind him."

"I see." Draco said.

"Well, apology accepted. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?" She said all that very fast.

Draco looked at where Neville was before and was relieved to see that he had left. Probably to look for his toad.

"I'm Draco Malfoy,"

"So is you."

"You know me?"

"No. But everyone else in the train is talking about you."

"They're talking about me? Good things I hope."


"Figured as much."

"Well, are they true?"

"I wouldn't be here hiding if they were not true."

"Well, I don't believe them to be true. Not from what I have seen from you at least." Hermione picked her books and headed for the door. "I'm gonna go and keep asking if someone has seen Neville's toad."

"He'll find his toad. See ya around?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder and smiled back.

And so he had drifted into a short nap.

There was another knock at his door compartment later that day.

"Are you Malfoy, Draco Malfoy? Do you mind?" she sat opposite to him without Draco having time to react.

"Have we met before?" said Draco.

"I need your help." She said.

"Oh, right. You were the one who didn't need help." Draco soon remembered.

Draco made fun about the first time they meet on the train earlier, and she looked embarrassed.

"I've heard of your family," she said darkly.

"My family, it always comes down to that. Doesn't it?"

"Were they not some of the first to come back to the Ministry side after You-Know-Who disappeared? They said they'd been bewitched?" Draco turned to meet her viridescent eyes. "That was all a ruse, right?" she said.

"Can I help you with something?" Draco said coldly.

"We don't need to fight, do we? We'll be in trouble before we even get to Hogwarts." She smiled. "Fine. I'll tell you. Voldemort killed my parents." Draco tried not to laugh out loud but failed miserably. "Tell me of someone that you don't know that their parents were not killed by him?" She stared at him blankly, "Yours." Draco gulped. She was wrong whoever she thought she was, and Draco wanted to yell back at her the truth but he couldn't'. Draco couldn't let his emotions control him.

"Leave me alone."

She headed to the door. Draco stared at the wall of the train and a tear fell down his right cheek. She placed a hand on the door frame and looked back.

"I just wanted to let my presence known." she said