Title:

Author: I_nv_u50

Pairings: Eventual DracoXHarry. But only in the last 10 or so chapters (rough idea..)

Disclaimer: The world, the characters, they all belong to whoever owns them. At this point, I'm sure it's J.K. Rowling, but then it could be whoever's doing the movies O.o;

Chapter Rating: PG13 for poor little beaten Harry T.T

Author's Notes: It all started on a dark and stormy night …

Harry: Cut the crap.

Draco: Just get on with it, woman.

(cowers and hides) NOT! Bleh. Anyway, it all started when my Lily muse wanted a baby Harry, because Harry is an adult in mansion. Well, almost. So anyway, I gave her one. Then paid no attention to it because these two idiots (kicks Draco&Harry) tease me with chapters for In the Interests Of and then don't give them to me.

Draco: And it's what? Our fault?

Harry: We refuse to work! More pay! More holidays! More freedom!!

I_nv_u50: You don't make a good Hermione.

So then, I was reading Reliving Childhood (its in my favourite stories if you're interested) and I realized that baby Harry was just so cute!! *-*

Harry: (sniffs) What, and I'm not?

Draco: Course you aren't. You're a midget, you're too stubborn, and your fashion sense is too bizarre to even set your own trend.

Harry: Hmph. See if that gets you anything tonight.

ANYway, I wanted to do a classic Hogwarts story anyway, and this turned out to be it ^^

It's eventual DracoXHarry slash, because I really find pedophilia disgusting. Is that the right word? Whatever. It's sick. The slash happens when Draco gets back to his own time :D Poor Harry doesn't know what hit him ^^

I'm hoping most chapters will be this kind of length. I'm aiming for roughly 20 chapters in all, probably the longest planned series I've written to date. OiaM and ItIO don't count because I have absolutely no idea how long those are going to be O.o;

Anyway, enough with that, hope you enjoy it, and please review!!

PS: next chapter of In the Interests Of will hopefully be out by Friday ^^

PPS: Elfric is Draco's owl (or should he have a falcon? :D) and Nessos is Blaise's owl (or falcon) I keep seeing slytherins with falcons. The names are from one of the Harry Potter information books I have. If you really want to know which one, I'll tell you next chapter, I'm too lazy to go upstairs and get it now.

Read and Review!! ^^

~The present and the future are most affected by the one thing time can't erase: the past~

Draco's first mission, his first ever assignment when he joined that exclusive groups called Deatheaters, was a distinct privilege, one that ensured his ambitioned fame if he succeeded. It was a very important role in the Dark Lord's latest plan.

Failure would inevitably result in death.

Draco was to go back in time, back to when the elusive Harry Potter was a child, too defenseless to even try fighting back. Draco was supposed to bring young the young hero into the future, Draco's own present. It was a perfect plan because, as Voldemort had arrogantly told all involved, if they killed Harry Potter from the past when he wasn't able to fight back, there would be no Harry Potter to fight now.

The one small side factor to this plot was that Draco couldn't kill Harry when he was only five years old, as that was something only cowards would do, and Draco, for all his pride and selfishness, was certainly no coward. He despised them. They were weak, and therefore had no place in the world.

Therefore, young Harry Potter would have to go back to the present of Draco's time with Draco.

Draco, nineteen years old, the youngest member of one of the oldest, most prestigious families in the wizarding world was standing distastefully at the front door of a muggle residence, in a quality but entirely muggle suit.

He didn't know whether to be ashamed or disgusted. He settled for a mixture of the two, leaning slightly towards the disgusted side because his father had explicitly said not to be ashamed of any work he did for the Dark Lord.

'Remember, Draco, anything he tells us to do is for the good of the purebloods. And ourselves. Never be ashamed of what he tells you to do, it is for a better world for ourselves, his loyal followers. And we are his loyal followers, are we not?'

When a middle aged muggle, bordering on looking old, although Draco knew him to still be in his twenties, opened the door and glared at Draco from small, piggy eyes, Draco gave up on ashamed and was fully disgusted.

"Yes?" the man huffed, pulling the door open a little further upon seeing the excellent quality suit.

"Good evening sir." Draco hid his blanch at the words, keeping his voice cool, quiet and blunt. "My father, Mr Malfoy, the great doctor, you know? He has opened a new medical clinic down the road, and we are giving out free first medical inspections. Can we offer you some, Mr…?"

The man's eyes gleamed greedily and he cleared his throat in what he obviously thought was a business manner but what came off sounding like a very wet coughing fit. "Yes, yes, come in, come in. I am Vernon Dursley." He held out a pudgy hand.

Draco ignored it, inclining his head in acknowledgement instead and stepped in, careful not to touch anything. One could never tell where these filthy muggle possessions had been.

Vernon invited Draco to sit down on a couch in an impeccable looking room. It was obviously the good living room. Draco's family had about ten.

"First off, I would like to interview everyone staying in this house." Draco started, leaning back against the uncomfortably hard cushions slowly.

"Why?" blustered Vernon, obviously put off by the question.

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Is there a problem? It's a requirement for the first free check up, and enables you to receive discounts for the first full year."

Draco mentally thanked his expressionless mask that he had perfected over the years. Dursley would never assume that Draco was making this up off the top of his head. Draco hid a smirk. That was why he had been put into Slytherin. But then again, Dursley probably wouldn't have expected anything even had Draco been rolling around in fits of laughter at the terrific game he was playing.

"All the people living in this house?" Vernon seemed to deflate momentarily.

"Yes. Starting with the youngest first, if you please. Personal preference."

"Oh, very well." Vernon grumbled, vastly and obviously reluctant.

Draco stared at Vernon, making his eyes go hard and cold, the business look his father had taught him for just such an occasion. It didn't allow room for refusals. "I would like to start right away. Is the youngest member of your family available?"

Vernon cleared his throat again, although this time it was more nervous than a business gesture. "He's not part of – ah, yes, of course. I'll bring him right in."

Vernon bumbled to the entrance of the room but paused, looking back at Draco when he spoke softly.

"Dursley, I will see him in here and alone please."

"Yes… yes, of course…" Vernon mumbled, scuttling out of the room in a hurry.

Draco distinctly heard a lock click, but before he could hear more, a tall, unnaturally thin blonde stepped into the doorway. "Sir, would you like something to drink? Eat maybe?"

The lady was clearly fishing for information.

Draco replied with ingrained politeness, taught through all his childhood years. "No, thank you. Screw off."

He smiled sweetly at her when she gasped in outrage, confident of his ability and status to silence her if she made too much of a deal out of it. He smiled harder. "Would you like me to repeat myself? Screw off, I said."

The lady nodded sharply, offended beyond words for the moment and disappeared as Vernon came through the doorway, herding a young boy of about five years old.

Draco had to blink back his quick surprise. Harry was thin, and small for his age, obviously malnourished, with huge green eyes behind already broken glasses that were almost dangling off of his nose because they were too big as well. Thick, messy black hair fell haphazardly over his eyes.

Draco could vaguely remember from his Hogwarts days that Harry hadn't had a good home life, but he had put it off to rumors because Harry always seemed so happy. But the dark bruises showing up on the pale skin had him thrown for a few seconds, and he was hard pressed to recover quickly.

"This is… er… what's your name, sir?"

"Draco." Draco answered shortly, keeping his eyes on the young boy's face and taking note of the scared and suspicious expression he saw there.

"Boy, this is Mr Draco Malfoy. You will be polite. Any trouble boy, any trouble at all and you will be punished."

Harry shivered slightly and lowered his eyes.

Draco held back a scowl. "You may leave, Dursley. Come here, boy."

Vernon gladly left to go complain to his wife and Harry stepped hesitantly closer.

"What's your name?" Draco tried to remember that he wasn't supposed to already know.

"Harry." The child's voice was high and thin, indicating a lot of stress.

"Come here Harry. Come sit." Draco unwillingly patted the seat next to him, trying to make it seem like a natural gesture.

It must have worked because Harry came forward slowly, tentatively sliding onto the couch.

Draco pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket, restraining from scorning the muggle invention. To his mind, quills were so much better. He clicked open his briefcase and pulled out a clipboard of forms to fill out.

"Right Harry. Can you tell me what your full name is?"

"Harry Evan Potter…" the voice was hesitant, clearly thinking carefully as he answered.

Draco wrote it in. "Age?"

Harry took a second to count it out on his fingers. "Five."

Draco filled out the boxes. "Date of birth?"

Harry looked worried. "Don't know! I'm sorry!"

Draco looked down at him, startled. Harry's eyes were actually tearing up.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. We'll just come back to it later, all right? What's your uncle's name?"

"Uncle Vernon." The resentment was there, hidden and barely realized by Harry.

Draco sighed loudly and clicked the pen off.

Vernon and his wife appeared from where they had probably been eavesdropping in the kitchen.

Draco stood up. "I'll need to take him back to my office for some specific tests. I can bring him back later this afternoon if you would like."

They looked nothing short of thrilled to have Harry away from them for an entire day.

"Yes, yes, of course its all right!" Vernon laughed too jovially, making the total sound annoying and fake, obviously trying too hard.

Draco nodded and, hiding his reluctance, held out a hand to Harry for him to take.

Harry stared at it distrustfully for a second, then up at Draco before standing up and scampering to the door.

Draco gritted his teeth, an irritating and almost hurtful memory of the scene from his first year at Hogwarts quickly reminding him just what child he was dealing with.

Except for a minor difference that almost escaped his notice. There had been fear in those childishly wide green eyes instead of contempt.

He shook off the vague feeling of déjà vu and followed Harry out, nodding coolly to the Dursley's who couldn't seem to show them out fast enough.

He almost walked straight into Harry, who barely came up to his thighs, and Harry squeaked with alarm, looking up at him. There was fear and mild anger warring in the youthful depths of his eyes, regarding Draco intently before grabbing hold of Draco's hand, which had been hanging by his side.

Then Harry raised his head defiantly, staring with all the ferocity of a cornered rabbit at a pudgy boy who was staring at Draco in bewilderment.

Harry's hand was trembling in Draco's, and he made a split decision, leaning down to swing Harry up into his arms before anyone could say anything.

Harry clutched at Draco's neck in astonishment and Draco had to forcibly resist dropping Harry.

He needed Harry to trust him.

Draco opened the passenger door of the rented car with a little difficulty, cursing the fact that he couldn't just apparate with the Dursleys watching him through the curtains.

Then again, they probably knew magic existed, Harry's parents being who they had been. And the foolish ministry officials wouldn't be able to track Draco because he was technically, in this age, a little under six years old, and his personal magical signature would only belong to himself. Since the ministry had no idea there were time traveling wizards, they would assume a mistake had been made, for how could a six-year-old apparate?

Draco grinned at the window, blatantly winking at the hidden Dursleys and, hitching Harry more securely onto his hip, apparated away.

He almost lost Harry with the passing through air, but they arrived before he and Harry could get totally separated, and they both arrived reasonably safe, and none the worse for wear. Thankfully.

Harry gazed around with wide-eyed wonder. "Where we?"

Draco too a quick look around. "It appears we are in London."

"Oh." Harry accepted this with a curious amount of trust, and he laid his head down on Draco's shoulder wearily. "We going back?"

"No."

"Ok. Where we going?"

Draco sighed and hitched Harry higher, contemplating suitable places.

Vincent Crabbe had mentioned a small hotel, but it really wasn't the place Draco would want any kid subjected to. He really didn't know why he bothered with Vince and Greg any more. They were merely underdogs.

Blaise Zambini though, had recommended another hotel, one that, if Draco remembered correctly, was actually quite near the spot they were currently standing. They were a five star hotel, and didn't ask questions so long as the guests could and did pay the high rates.

Draco kind of wanted to go to Knockturn Alley, but taking Harry there so soon after this Voldemort's 'untimely demise' was having a deathwish for both of them. Even if Draco, with his quick tongue, could convince the other people in there that this wasn't Harry Potter, but a boy who looked extraordinarily like him, aurors were watching that Alley very carefully indeed.

Draco poked his nose with a shy forefinger. "Draco? Where we going?"

Draco had to fight for the tolerant smile that graced his features, but it worked because Harry smiled back sleepily.

"Are you tired, Harry?"

"Ya…"

"Where would you like to stay?"

Harry considered this for a minute, his face screwed up in an adorable pout of thought.

His face lit up. "With you!"
Draco was surprised and quite inexplicitly touched. "You will. I promise. Let's go, shall we?"

Harry's head moved in a sleepy nod against Draco's neck and Draco walked quickly down the street, stopping outside every likely looking resting place.

By the time he found the hotel Blaise had mentioned, Harry was fast asleep on his shoulder, breathing quietly, his glasses skew.

Draco lifted him up more carefully and stepped through the revolving door, walking quickly to the receptionist desk.

"Good evening sir, how may we help you?"

Draco smiled silkily. "I'd like a master suite please."

"Will you be requiring an extra bed, sir?"
"Excuse me?"

She nodded towards Harry's sleeping figure. "For the child, sir."

"Oh. Yes." Draco gave a small, polite chuckle. "Yes please. And I would like to stay for one night."

"Very good sir." The receptionist picked up a phone and mumbled a few curt orders into it. "They'll have the bed in by the time you settle in, sir. Will you be needing a wake up call?"
"No thank you."

"Yes sir. It is &280 for the night. Any room service and movies you require will be added to your bill."

Draco nodded in acceptance to the high price, and Harry mumbled something into his shoulder.

The receptionist smiled at them, a genuine smile. "The bed should be in already sir. Will that be all?"

"I'm expecting a friend, by name of Blaise Zambini. Send him straight up when he comes, would you?"

"Of course sir. If you would like to sign here…"

Draco signed hurriedly, a made up and perfected signature that couldn't be read by the majority. It was to ensure secrecy in the Dark Lord's plans and the way they were carried out.

"Your room number is 1206. Please enjoy your stay." She gave Draco a small envelope with two card keys, and they exchanged civil smiles before Draco headed for the elevator.

He was the only one with a small child in the elevator. It had been a bad idea to bring Harry anywhere where people would jump to conclusions, he knew that now.

They didn't approve. They thought that Draco, with his youthful face, looked too young to be a father, that Harry should have been left with his mother, given most men's attitudes to their children.

Draco had never realised how biased they had been in the eighties. In the nineties, things weren't so different, but at least the father didn't get all of the blame.

Years of perfecting his pride and arrogance finally paid off and came to his rescue before his quick temper could send all the stupid muggles into oblivion. Draco sighed silently, ignoring all the quiet whispers around him. Control had been taught and learned well.

Draco found their room with no difficulty, as there was several working staff quickly walking out of it. Draco wondered with disinterest if he had paid enough.

He waited until the muggle workers were out of sight before entering the room himself.

It was a nice room, big, with a huge king sized bed by the wall in front of the TV, and a smaller, single bed under the window. It was decorated in reds and golds and whites; all, Draco thought with a grimace, blatant opposites of the colours connected to Slytherin: green, silver and black.

He refused to acknowledge that they were Gryffindor colours.

Harry mumbled something again, and Draco almost jumped, having forgotten that the young hero was relaxing in his arms, a thin, warm weight. He laid Harry carefully on the bed, before turning to the phone by his own bedside.

Draco approached it loathingly, but dialed the number for room service, indicated by a laminated card on the bedside table, with all the usual numbers needed.

He ordered supper, almost forgetting to ask for an extra children's portion until the last minute.

Then he dialed the receptionist and asked her how to phone out of the hotel.

She told him in a cheery voice, and within minutes he had been connected to Blaise Zambini's hotel, in another section of London.

Blaise Zambini had been sent along as well, having been deemed more worthy than Crabbe, Goyle or Nott, and he was infinitely less clumsy than the other three.

It was he who kept the potion that would enable the three to get back to Draco's time.

"Blaise?"

"Draco, something's happened. It-"

"Blaise, why haven't you left yet?"

"I haven't had time to, Draco, the potion, it-"
"Have you still got Elfric?"

"Yes, but Draco-"

"Good. Send him over, will you? I'd like a change of clothes for tomorrow."

"Yes, I will, but-"

"Good. Try and send him off now, will you? I want to look good for the Dark Lord tomorrow. You should get something elegant to wear as well."

"Draco! For crying out loud, listen to me! We wont be leaving tomorrow! Nessos accidentally frightened one of the housekeepers here and she knocked the vial off the desk! It burnt a hole through the floor! It's ruined! It'll take me at least a week to get all the ingredients again so you can make it!"