Title: A Moment in Time Changed
Rating: Gen
Summary: Every change leads to a different decision. How different would Draco's choice be if the 'Chosen one' was a girl? Would history take a different course?
A Moment in time lost
The drapes were drawn enough and yet the faintest sunlight that poured through irritated his eyes. He wanted to shout for the elves to cast a charm over it, or something to prevent the sunlight from filtering in but his throat was sore. Even a scream sounded like a whisper in the big empty room, Draco groaned.
He could hear the faint sounds from the outside world, his door opening as someone padded in. In any other circumstance Draco would have sat straight and refused to show how vulnerable he was, but given his condition that was not possible.
He could feel the bed dip as he squinted to see who it was, the soft hand on his hair was answer enough "Mother" he whispered.
"Why do you do this Draco?" She sounded pained, the unmistakable crack at the end of her voice.
'If you wanted to help you should have brought a healing salve instead', Draco doesn't voice his uncharitable thoughts, he curls further into a ball as his mother idly strokes his hair.
It was years before that he put a stop to this, or rather his father said "stop fussing Narcissa; you don't want the boy growing up to be a pansy".
He shrugged off his mom's hands then and refused to let her touch his hair anymore, he had forgotten how comforting those simple gestures were.
"Your father..." she begins, her hand stilling, he knows his mother is choosing her words carefully. She doesn't want to sound disapproving, but he knows she had struggled to contain herself during the ordeal.
Watching her only son suffer through multiple terms of cruciatus wasn't a fate any mother wished to have, but there was a need. And no matter how much Draco hated his father at the moment he had understood that too.
His refusal to the Dark Lord would come at a price.
"We can't protect you always" she says instead.
He knows this to be true, though for a moment he just wants to curl up and complain about the unfairness of it all. He was still 16, not even old enough to do magic outside the hallways and classrooms of Hogwarts, he was too young to take up burdens that the Dark Lord expected him to, no matter what honour everyone would perceive it to be.
'Stupid Potter' he thought viciously, it always burned down to her.
Her and her vigilante group of friends perpetually in trouble, it was splashed across the papers too. How Potter had broke into the Ministry of Magic, something to do with a prophesy and the Dark Lord in battle.
No Potter had screamed in the middle of history of magic and ran out during her owls. She had been brought back to the castle in secrecy.
Draco would never admit to roaming in the hallways waiting for her, after all the end of the year Potter adventure was a Hogwarts tradition.
He didn't want to see her smug, gloating face, another victory against powers unknown, with sheer luck and audacity, and all that would culminate to her victory in the house cup.
The castle was draped in darkness as the floo in the nurse's office flared and for a short while Draco stood there frozen in anticipation.
The troop that followed weren't quite a surprise, Longbottom looked worse for wear supporting an equally bad female Weasley, Lovegood stumbled after her blonde hair looking singed with Granger and the Weasley. Dumbledore seemed to be levitating Potter behind him as Madam Pomfrey fussed about them.
Draco who never particularly liked Dumbledore still believed the man to be extremely powerful, was surprised to see that he looked worried, exhausted and old.
His eyes slid back to Potter on the bed, she was awake now as Madam Pomfrey tried making her drink something, she was shaking her head.
Stupid stubborn Potter.
It was unmistakable the worrying looking that Weasley and Granger kept shooting her, it was Potter who spoke up finally.
Draco was too far away to hear what exactly was asked, an outsider looking in, he couldn't move any closer without letting the others know.
When Granger nodded to Potter's question, it was Dumbledore who placed his arm over Potter's shoulders. Her eyes widening in shock, as if she couldn't believe what she heard was true.
She doubled over like she was in pain and as Madam Pomfrey bustled towards her; a subtle nod from Dumbleore prevented her.
There was something utterly heartbreaking about the way Potter huddled in herself, bent over like she was suffering some unbearable agony, like nothing in the world would make her better.
Draco didn't know what was being said, but no one made a move to touch her, Potter looked like she was shivering and yet there was no trace of tears.
Not that he ever harboured any soft spot for Potter and her rag tag team of Gryffindors, but at that moment Draco realised how vulnerable Potter was.
His greatest enemy was on a hospital bed crying and Draco didn't feel so victorious after all.
That his 'greatest enemy' was a 15 year old girl who liked like her heart had been ripped out and Draco felt wretched.
He couldn't take his eyes away from her form, like an accident you couldn't drag your eyes away from. There was no reason this 15 year old girl was going to save the wizarding world, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed tight enough to tear the cloth.
There was nothing pretty about the sight, of human weakness and sorrow, of being broken enough that there was nothing left to fix. He wanted to shake her, grip her bony shoulders and shake her till she screamed
"how are you going to save us Potter?"
"How are you going to save me?"
But Potter didn't provide him the answers as Pomfrey force fed her a potion that looked like a calming drought, she gulped it down, her grip on the sheets loosening till she was placed back on to the bed.
Draco tore his eyes away from her as he trudged his way back to his dorms.
Dumbledore's eyes briefly flitted across where Draco was standing, almost unseeing.
The next day, the Daily Prophet would scream the death eater attack on Potter, the chosen one and the news of Sirius Black's unfair incarceration and death.
His eyes would flit to the Gryffindor table where she was notably absent.
"Draco reconsider your decision!"
It was not a question but a statement, and even though Draco wanted to choke on his tongue he didn't change his mind.
"No father, I cannot accept the dark mark"
"Crucio"
AN: Do let me know if you think it's worth continuing