Title: The Turncoat
Summary: Somehow, Draco Malfoy finds himself amongst a horde of gingers, a mudblood, Scarhead and a cat that looks like its face ran into a bus. Life has definitely gone downhill. Turncoat Draco, time-travel at the start and Horcrux hunting. Eventual M.
Pairings: Eventually Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy. Side pairings of Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger.
Rating: Starting at T, but will go up to M in future chapters.
Warnings: Death, mentions of torture but nothing shown. Eventual smut in later chapters.
Timeline: This is AU from Order of the Phoenix. This story starts a few years after that, where Sirius' death at the veil was just the start of the deaths for the Order. It will reset itself and we will follow some canon along OofTP, HBP, and DH. There will be quite a lot AU, but the premise of the stories will be there, such as the Horcruxes.
About the fic: I've read a LOT of Drarry fiction and I've always searched for a certain kind of fic. I couldn't find it, so, I thought I'd write it myself. Draco will be a git to start with, well, let's be honest, he'll be a pain in the backside the entire time but that's Draco! I'm going to do my best to keep him canon, I can promise he won't fall into a pile of mush halfway through the fic. The romance will be slow and as realistic as I can possibly make it.
Promises: Horcrux hunting Draco, them living in a tent and of course, Draco doing his best to get on the trio's very last nerve the entire time.
Beta: I don't have a beta so all mistakes are my own. If anyone would be kind enough to clean this fic up a bit and future chapters, please send me a message! Please note, the archiveofourown version will be smutty.
FALLEN HEROS
Draco strode into the room with a scowl on his face. He hated people that couldn't do their jobs properly. It just went to prove that the dirty blooded ministry workers couldn't do their job properly. They couldn't even do their job without Draco's help. As if he had nothing better to do in the middle of a wizarding war. It was pathetic, and they were going to feel Draco Malfoy's wrath when he proved their claims were proved wrong. It was impossible that the woman behind that curtain was his mother. It was his mother's sister, Andromeda. All the Death Eaters knew that Andromeda was dead, she'd been killed along with her husband only the week before. They had probably found the body and got the identities mixed up. Narcissa was fine, she was injured somewhere with a broken wand. Or perhaps she was already home, making tea and waiting for her son to return? No matter what she was doing, there was no doubt in his mind that the woman lying behind that curtain, on that slab was not his mother.
His mother was not dead.
"I can do it," Severus offered, squeezing Draco's shoulder. It was tighter than usual, probably because Draco felt so dull to normal pain. Several months living with the Dark Lord had increased his pain threshold. The Dark Lord had high stands, even his followers weren't free from his anger.
"It's not her," Draco replied, his voice leaving little doubt. He moved to tap on the glass, impatient to get this over with so he could go back to his search for his mother. He didn't care much for his blood traitorous aunt, they could burn the body for all he cared.
The curtain drew back, revealing a small room with a bed in the center. The bed had bright white linen, looking just like a normal bedroom if it wasn't for the dead body lying between its covers. The deathly pale skin was the only thing giving away the person was dead. If it wasn't for the pale skin, the body would have looked like they were sleeping. The black and white hair was fanned out over the pillow. The eyelids shut to make her look peaceful. If Draco squinted, his mother looked like she was sleeping.
"Polyjuice," Draco snarled. How disgusting could someone be? Trying to play dirty tricks on him as if he wasn't worried enough about his mother. He turned to leave but Snape held him firmly back towards the window. "Get off me!"
"The magic is gone, there is no spell or potion, it's her Draco," Severus said, his voice softer than usual.
Draco shoved at his godfather, pushing past. He couldn't breathe, the room was so small, and his lungs were burning. He pulled the door open and ran, making his way along the short corridor and out of the disgusting department that was trying to trick him. They were all filthy lies, even his godfather was in on it. This was his punishment, to believe his mother was dead when she wasn't. He would get back home and see her in the kitchen, feeling regretful she'd been forced to play along. Next time Draco would try harder. He would never flinch again when his death eater friends killed someone. He'd join in, fake it. He would laugh. The people they tortured and killed were dirty blooded or mudbloods that deserved nothing more than to wriggle on his living room floor.
"Draco," a voice called, making Draco halt. He turned to see his father striding towards him, no emotion on the man's face. Of course, he knew the truth, he knew it was a trick or else he'd be broken, he'd be crying over his wife's death. Draco smiled.
"I'll ask for forgiveness and then he'll allow mother to come home," Draco said, moving towards his father. Lucius had a firm expression and grabbed Draco by the shoulder, pulling him none too gently into a nearby room. It looked like a storage cupboard, filled with filing cabinets at the back of the room.
Lucius muttered a quick muffliato so their conversation was private. "Shut up and stop acting like a child," Lucius snarled. "It's done. I've asked for them to keep the body until things calm down then we can have a private funeral. I'm sure the Dark Lord would approve that, under the circumstances."
"That's not her! It's a lie, you're all lying to me!" Draco shouted, whipping his wand out. "I will not be lied to anymore. You can go back in there and tell them I know the truth. If this was true, you would be out hunting the person that did this to mother. You wouldn't stand by and let someone get away with murdering your wife!"
"I know who did it," Lucius said quietly. He had flinched slightly at Draco's words. That caught Draco's attention He knew his father so well. Lucius was never affected by words, he had quick reactions and could smoother his feelings. Draco had seen his mother slap Lucius several times over the years and shout heated words, but his father had never flinched. That's when it clicked into place. Draco could see the tension his father's face, the heat in his eyes. His father couldn't go out and get revenge. It wasn't possible.
"No," Draco growled. He moved forward, his wand moving to cast but his father was too quick. He grabbed Draco by the throat and slammed him into a nearby wall.
"I allowed Severus to bring you here because your foolish denial was going to get us into more trouble," Lucius snarled. "You showed weakness, I warned you weeks ago. The Dark Lord isn't stupid. Did it not register that they always died at your feet? That he waited until they crawled to you, begging for forgiveness before he killed them? They always died in front of you!" Lucius tightened his grip on Draco's throat, ignoring Draco's struggles. "He will not tolerate weakness. You had to be punished. He made me choose. I made my choice. Your mother understood and accepted the punishment. It was quick and painless. If it wasn't me, someone else would have done it. Would you prefer Fenrir to do the job? Torture her? I gave a quick death, an easy death."
Draco's whole body went cold, his insides twisting with disgust and hate. He hated these people. The only reason he'd ever committed his life to be by his father's side was to keep his mother safe. The one person in the world he cared about. Everyone else was just a person to use, someone to put up a show of friendship or familiarity. His mother was innocent.
With a strength Draco didn't know he possessed, he shoved Lucius off and held his wand up. He aimed it at his father's head, with barely a meter between them. "I hate you," Draco growled. "I've spent years following your every word. I've done everything and you just… you killed her! She's your wife, my mother. You just..."
"What would you have me do? Should I have chosen to kill my son? Or refuse and let you both die?" Lucius asked. The fact his face showed no emotion just made Draco's blood boil. It was like he didn't care. It was like a house elf had died, not a loved one. Not the person that was supposed to be his world. For so long Draco had held his father in high regard but it was finally slipping away. He was a coward, a self-serving coward that Draco despised.
"Crucio!" Draco shouted, unable to hold back. His father flinched, prepared for the pain, but nothing happened. There was a slight twitch to the corner of Lucius' mouth and Draco felt himself step forward like his mind and body were two separate entities. "Crucio!" Draco bellowed. This time it worked, his father fell to his knees and wriggled in pain. It wasn't powerful, just enough to inflict some pain, but not as strong as his aunt Bellatrix. Draco was too broken down, too full of emotion to really mean the spell.
Tears were running down Draco's face before he could even register he was crying. The room was spinning, his mind clouded with fear and hate. His dropped his arm back to his side. "I despise you," Draco said in a cold voice before he strode out of the room. He wouldn't let his father see him crying. He would never show weakness in front of that pathetic man. A murder, a traitor.
~~Six Months Later~~
Draco Malfoy stared down into the patch of mud, his face red with anger. All the fighting and the hard work came down to this moment. Staring at a patch of mud that was meant to represent the most important person in his life. Narcissa Malfoy had done everything to protect her son and in the end, she had died for it. Given up her life to save Draco one final time. Now, he was alone. His father, pathetic and cowardly, didn't give a damn about his family, not anymore. He was the shadow of the man Draco had grown up with. He was no father. He was a suck up, trailing on the Dark Lords coattails in hope of gaining some prestige back. It was pointless. Who would he have power over? The numbers for the wizarding world were already down quite drastically and the muggles weren't fairing much better.
No, the world was coming to an end. Nothing was good enough for the Dark Lord. Blood was never too pure to spill if you had done something to anger him. In the end, it would be the Dark Lord and his pet, Bellatrix. They would be the true leaders of the world, with not a soul left to fight. How was that honor? How was that true power? Ruling a world that was destroyed seemed pointless. Muggles were in hiding, but the Death Eaters found more and more each day. The Order was gone. Every one of them hunted and killed. All because of pathetic Potter, too weak and stupid to follow through with his plans. Gryffindor's ruled by their hearts, once one of them fell, everyone else followed. Love was a weakness, causing the downfall of the entire Gryffindor brood.
Shouldn't Draco feel happy about that? The fact his enemies were all gone? That they were killed off and the true Lord was in power? Maybe. Perhaps it was the fact that deep down, Draco always expected Potter to win. He never supported Potter's notions, running with mudbloods and half-breeds, but he had courage and luck. No matter the circumstance, he always won in the end. Except for that one time he didn't.
"Draco?" A voice called from the doorway of the manor. His father, although, Draco wasn't sure he deserved that title anymore. Wife killer, that was probably more suited for him.
With a scowl, Draco dropped the lily he'd been holding onto his mother's final resting place and made his way to the manor, to the front so his father could see him. It had taken some time before the Dark Lord had allowed them to bury Narcissa, six months for them to get into his good graces to give Narcissa Malfoy a final resting place so people could mourn her loss. The Dark Lord loved control, even in death.
"We have a guest," Lucius grinned, holding the door open. "The Dark Lord won't be back until Thursday, so he wants you to complete the task. Bellatrix will be over later, so I would get it done before she comes. You don't want anyone to think you're too weak to do it."
Taunting him, the bastard.
"I'll do it," Draco said, shoving past his father. He didn't make eye contact anymore. Not because he was afraid of Lucius, instead, Draco was afraid what he would do to Lucius if he looked up and saw him, eye to eye. Probably kill him, or worse. Things were delicate enough without angering the Dark Lord.
Draco made his way down the hall, walking past the great hall where a few of the Death Eaters were enjoying breakfast. They were like scavengers, making a mess everywhere. If they hadn't of killed the final house elf, things would have been in better shape. Pushing past his disgust, Draco made his way to the back of the Manor and down to the cellar. It was a quiet and secluded spot and it always gave Draco the shivers. He knew how many people had died down there and the number of people had been tortured for information. Draco had watched most of them, he spent his nightmares remembering.
Making his way to the bottom of the steps, he lit the tip of his wand and said a few spells to keep the room secure and silent from the outside. "Who do we have here?" Draco grinned, making his way forward. He paused, his stomach dropping when he saw the boy tied to the chair. His hair was black and a mess on top of his head. He had sharp features and bright green eyes. They reminded him a bit of… no. Don't think of it.
"How old are you?" Draco asked, his voice shaking. Draco had killed in the last few months, but never a kid. He'd forced himself to kill in order to stay alive. It was either that or be tortured by the Dark Lord. He did what he had to do, this felt different.
"Ten," the boy trembled, his lip quivering. "I want to go home."
Draco took a deep breath and turned away. For some reason, his chest tightened every time he saw that boy. He was a child, for fuck sake. What pleasure did they get killing innocent kids? What kind of threat was he?
"They said I'd stolen it, but it just happened I swear!" The boy called out, his voice shakey. He was terrified, and Draco truly felt like a monster. He'd done a lot in the last six months. But this… it was too much.
"You're different to your parents?" Draco asked, turning back to the boy. He nodded at Draco's question. A mudblood, that was why they were killing him. Spilling more magical blood when there was barely any left. "Are your parents alive?"
The boy shook his head and looked down. "No, but uncle Fred was looking after me and he said not to go out, but we were hungry and…"
"Uncle Fred?" Draco asked. "Where does he live?"
The boy shook his head, tears dripping down his cheek.
"Tell me!"
"No," the boy cried, crossing his arms in defiance. It made Draco's lip twitch. Stubborn little shit, just like… no.
"Fuck sake," Draco said, growling. He couldn't kill him, this boy. He couldn't do it and if he was still here when Bellatrix returned… fuck. He had to get rid of him. No one would know, surely? Perhaps his father would suspect, but he wouldn't dare say anything. Actually, he could probably get his father to agree to help Draco move the body. Christ, he owned him a hell of a lot after everything he'd done to upturn Draco's world.
He moved to the boy, who tried to shift back in his chair to get away. "Listen carefully," Draco said, his voice low. "Give me an address and I'll take you back. You have two minutes before I change my mind. I don't take pleasure in killing kids, even someone your age."
"Fred says the snake people shouldn't be trusted and we never tell them anything," The boy said. "Made us promise never to tell."
"Have it your way!" Draco shouted, turning away. He made his way to the door when a small voice called him back.
"No, I have something for you!"
Draco turned, scowling. The boy reached into his shirt and pulled out a locket. It was heart-shaped, with words etched into the gold in small writing. "What is it?" Draco asked, moving closer.
"It's yours," the boy shrugged and pulled it over his neck, holding it out to Draco by the chain. He spun the necklace around and on the back were the words 'Draco Malfoy'.
"This is a trick," Draco said, standing up. He'd never seen that in his life. He'd never seen that locket and it was definitely not a Malfoy or Black heirloom. No Black or Malfoy would have something heart-shaped, how Gryffindor. Still, he reached for it and held it carefully in his hand, nothing happened. "What's your name?" Draco finally asked the boy.
"Scorpius," the boy replied with a smile. "Unless you stop it, things will remain the same." The tears were gone and now he was smirking. A wicked smirk like he'd just gotten away with something he shouldn't. Draco felt a familiar tug in his stomach at the sight. It was like looking in a mirror. His looks were different, but his expression and sharp features... Which was impossible. Fuck. The words made no sense either. It was one of those stupid riddles that the Lestrange brothers enjoyed.
"What are you up to?" Draco growled, holding the locket in his palm. His curiosity got the better of him and he did something so un-Slytherin like. A moment of madness. He opened the locket.
It was a trick.
Inside the locket, was a time turner. This wasn't like any ordinary time turner, it was like a pocket watch, there was no chain to go around the person's neck and the dials were spinning too fast to read.
Draco tried to reach for the boy, but with a pop, an explosion filled Draco's ears and he collapsed.
The whole world went dark.
~#~#~#~
Draco woke with a thumping headache and clouded vision. He was in a comfy bed, one that was very familiar to him. His blurred vision didn't miss the stream of green curtain surrounding him. He heard the soft snores of others around him. One of the snores was so familiar, Draco nearly rolled out of the bed in shock. It was impossible. He was dead, Blaise was dead. Draco had watched it happen. He'd watched his aunt Bella torture and kill his friend for trying to leave, for trying to escape the madness at Malfoy Manor.
Climbing out of the bed, Draco pulled the curtain back and starred in shock at his friends. His vision was clear now, the initial sleepiness wearing off. "Impossible," Draco breathed. His voice was soft, and he spun back to his bed, eyeing the bed he'd spent six years sleeping in. He was in his old Slytherin room, surrounded by his old friends. Half of them were supposed to be missing or dead. Perhaps he'd gone crazy? His mother had spoken about the curse of the Black madness. Maybe after everything, Draco had finally fallen to it.
"Malfoy will you bugger off downstairs or go back to sleep," A voice moaned. Draco turned back, focusing on Blaise Zabini. He was looking at a ghost, but the more he looked, the more certain he was that Blaise was alive and well. In fact, he looked better than ever. Before his death, Blaise had lost a lot of weight, worry had taken over and he'd been beaten a fair bit by the other death eaters. This wasn't possible.
"Stop staring like a creep," Blaise muttered, burying his face in his pillow.
"I'm trying to work out how it's possible to be so completely deplorable, even in sleep," Draco snarled. He didn't have a clue why he reacted so quickly, and it was weak, even to his own ears. Blaise snorted but didn't reply, his face still pressed against his pillow.
Draco spent an hour wandering around his room, looking through his old wooden chest, finding his old school clothes. There was nothing else to wear and he couldn't go wandering around in pajamas, so he started getting dressed. Just after taking his shirt off, Draco froze. His arms were bare, no mark in sight. It was impossible. It couldn't be removed. Draco scrambled across the bed, going to Goyle's side and tugging the man's arm free from under the bed. His friend grumbled but slept on. No mark, he didn't have his mark either. Impossible.
Draco got dressed, his mind still reeling from everything. That kid had done this, Draco could barely remember, it felt fuzzy in his head. Like a distant dream. He could just say remember being sent to kill a boy in his family manor. Some black-haired kid with green eyes. Scorpio? Something like that. There had been a locket too, hadn't there? Draco couldn't find one, he'd searched the room for an hour and come up empty.
On his way out of the bedroom, Draco paused at a mirror. He looked younger, healthier. His face wasn't as thinned out, even his hair looked healthier than before. In fact, he looked younger. He was mad. St. Mungo's would be after him, once the news got out that Draco Malfoy was stark raving mad. The Black curse wasn't some story by his mother to make Draco brush his teeth, it was real.
Well, St Mungo's wasn't getting him without a fight.
Uncle Fred huh? Curious, very curious.
From here, the fic starts. Everything canon starts to twist, but we run along a similar timeline. You will, of course, find out eventually about Uncle Fred and Scorpius. Any ideas? Did Scorpius time travel from another future? Polyjuice? A Weasley prank? hmmm
Reviews: Anyone reading? ha. Please let me know if it's worth continuing. I will, of course, make sure to find a beta and tidy this chapter and future ones up before any more posts.
