Title:A return to blood roots
Warnings: Slash, mpreg, violence, possible rape, torture (mostly non-explicit).
Characteristics: Draco-centric, Time-travel
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any character in the seven books.
Prologue
The first time Draco Malfoy saw his Patriarch cower and kiss the heel of the Dark Lord's robes, he had a revelation. Lucius Malfoy was weak. In fact, he determined as he felt fear course through his body, the last generations of Malfoys were weak. Very skilled in the political arena, extremely agile in the corporate environment, but useless in battle.
The fearsome and powerful warriors of the old times had adapted to restricting their wars to the Wizengamot. Every member of the parliament knew better than to mess with a Malfoy, they would be bribed, blackmailed or threatened into appropriate behaviour. Yes, they were very accomplished politicians, especially considering the harsh blow the Family Name had received when his Father was accused of being a Death Eater.
Their talent wasn't just restricted to politics, they knew how to identify stalkers, kidnappers, hired mercenaries, all sorts of poisons and dispose of possible threats. However, what was needed now was a strong leader, a warrior. Someone who could become the Paterfamilias, look at the Dark Lord in the eye and proclaim that Malfoys weren't followers but allies, someone to protect the Family and the honour of the line.
Draco knew he wasn't that person. But he could become that person. It was in his blood, he just had to find a connection to the generations of ruthless mages who had destroyed entire cities and conquered countless lands. So while his whole family whimpered and grovelled at the Dark Lord's feet, he holed in the library.
The Malfoy Heir was nothing if not perseverant as his long time obsession with Potter could confirm. When his Ancestral Family Manor became the Dark Lord's headquarters, he stayed in the library. When his dungeons were used to house prisoners who were in his same year at school, he stayed in the library. When the Death Eaters who had invaded his home mocked him calling him weak and coward, he stayed in the library.
Once he found what he had been looking for, he informed his parents he was going to France to not raise suspicions since he did spend a month in France every year. His mother looked particularly relieved at the announcement. So the young Slytherin ordered the house-elves to fill the black trunk with all his things, he worded it with care making sure they would pack all his things but if someone pointed it out, he could say the house-elves had been overzealous.
The same afternoon, he went to Gringotts and drained his account which consisted on his Trust Fund, his Black vault and his Malfoy Heir vault, putting all the money, jewels and heirlooms in the last compartment of his trunk. Once back in the Manor, he made sure all his stuff was in the trunk, every book, every trinket and every robe. He pressed the button that made it shrink until it was no bigger than a nail and he hid it inside his medallion which could be opened and closed. Then he headed downstairs to speak with his Father in his office.
"Father", he greeted his Patriarch respectfully, after all, he had been raised in the Old Ways.
"Draco", responded Father, raising his silver eyes from the papers on his desk.
"I wanted to speak with you in private", he explained simply, letting his father know to cast the necessary spells to avoid their conversation being overheard.
Father's severe eyes narrowed and he discreetly waved his dark wand, casting complicated wordless spells that would lead anyone listening in to think they were chattering about inane matters. The Malfoy Heir approached his Paterfamilias eagerly, until he stood in front of the enormous Victorian desk.
"What is this, Draco? You know we can't take any risks right now", the adult wizard scolded him sternly.
"I know, Father, but I want to take some of the heirlooms with me"
Lord Malfoy's eyes widened at the bold request, "Are you crazy!"
"They aren't safe here, you know that. This war is already dilapidating our vaults at Gringotts and he's already found use to some of our heirlooms, how long do you think it will take him to squander all of them? I just want to take some of them for safe keeping", Draco answered calmly.
"What makes you believe that you could protect them better than I would?", inquired icily his Patriarch.
"I'll hide them in Malfoy Fortress"
His Paterfamilias froze, staring at him seriously, "Are your plans to spend this month in Malfoy Fortress instead of France?"
"Yes, Father"
"Draco, there's a reason our family moved to Malfoy Manor two hundred of years ago. Malfoy Fortress is rather... temperamental. It's a violent semi sentient building. Do you really want to spend your summer there?", questioned coldly the Death Eater.
"Yes, Father. Malfoy Fortress would never be invaded", he responded, knowing Father would complete the sentence with 'it would never be breached by Death Eaters, the Fortress would kill them first. Not like Malfoy Manor which has surrendered to the Dark Lord'.
The Malfoy Patriarch thought in silence for some long seconds, weighting the pros and cons of this decision. Finally, he nodded and stood to lead his heir into the secret chamber that held the most important heirlooms of the Malfoy Family. Draco had only been there thrice in his life, when he was six and the magic accepted him as the Malfoy Heir, when he was eleven since it was the age their magic started to define and grow and when he was fourteen which was when he could be emancipated.
They passed numerous wards and a confusing array of secret passages to get to the huge chamber. Inside, the most incredible heirlooms resided. Amulets with strong undetectable glamour spells that changed your appearance completely, rings that protected the mind from invasion, gems that amplified all sorts of magics, armours that could resist the deadliest spells, ancient books... For a few minutes, the blond pureblood just stood in awe of the quantity of magical items his family had amassed over the years.
Draco took out his white gold medallion which pictured the Family Crest of the House of Malfoy. At least, it had the last renovated version that came from the eighteenth century. Through the years, the dragon in their coat of arms had become more and more serpentine until the eighteenth century dragon looked more like a winged snake.
He opened it, taking out his trunk so that he could store the heirlooms Father was pointing out in it. He was slightly surprised by the sheer amount his Patriarch wanted him to take away. After all, most of these items were priceless and it was weird to be trusted with objects so valuable. Although, he supposed his Paterfamilias didn't have much choice. It was either trust him to carry them to safety or eventually relinquishing them to the Dark Lord. Something no pureblood proud of their legacy wished to ever do.
Afterwards, they returned to Father's office and his Patriarch erased his memory of the heirlooms they had taken away so that the Dark Lord would never know they existed even if he raped his mind. As soon as he was finished was allowed to leave the office, he said goodbye to his parents and left Malfoy Manor.
Malfoy Fortress was as unwelcoming as he had expected. The wards recognized his blood and let him pass but Draco had the distinct impression that they considered him unworthy of being the Heir of the Family. It wasn't odd, though, since Malfoy Fortress appreciated warriors and Draco was no warrior.
The blond wizard quickly went to one of the ritual chambers, he knew he was cutting it close since he only had four hours to prepare the ritual. But the discovery of the spell, devising the ritual and the ideal time to complete it had taken hours upon hours of research, and the best next date was one month and a half later.
He cleaned the chamber using as little magic as possible, since he didn't want to contaminate the magic of the ritual. Draco quickly made the potion he used later to draw the pertinent symbols. He placed the seven crystals that would amplify the power of the ritual, so that it wouldn't require as much magic of him as it would do otherwise. He put the three offerings in their correct places. He bathed with the correct potion to purge himself of foreign magic and dressed himself in an expensive set of traditional robes, finding it fitting.
Once it was time, he stood in his place readying himself to start the ritual. He had discovered a spell that allowed someone to have impressions of his ancestors, Draco had devised a whole ritual that would allow to turn those impressions into blocks of memories that would be transmitted to him. Of course, he had limited which memories since his brain didn't have the capacity to remember hundreds of lives. His objective was to receive the memories of how their offensive and defensive magics were done to gain an edge over Voldemort. Even the Dark Lord wouldn't know about wards or curses from hundreds of years ago.
His medallion heated against his porcelain skin, alerting him that it was time to begin. Draco undid the alarm spell and inhaled deeply before starting the spell. He didn't know what would happen if he were to mess it up. He started chanting, his eyes closed as he focused on the flux of magic he could feel. Everything was going as planed when the Malfoy Heir felt foreign magic intruding in the ritual.
The magic was from the Malfoy Fortress. That wasn't weird since he had planned to used this location because the magic of the Fortress would power up his own spell but this magic had intent. He couldn't recognize which purpose it had but he knew it wasn't harmful. He bit his lower lip, he couldn't stop now. If he stopped the magic of the ritual would turn against him and he didn't want to become a squib. He only hoped that the foreign magic wouldn't muck up the ritual, he had no wish to end up dead.
The magic flow started to accelerate, circling Draco growing in girth. The blond started to pant as he continued chanting, the ritual was leeching more magic from him than expected which made no sense because it had taken more than expected from the Fortress too.
He could feel his body growing weak while his magical reserves were consumed. He started to feel lightheaded and his body started to sway. He opened his silver eyes to try to focus but the stream of colours from the magic flow only made him dizzy. Small dots of black appeared in his vision. His knees bucked and he fell to the hard floor. Finally, he lost consciousness.