Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story. They are owned by Rowling, and I only play.
A/N: Fourteen words over my 500 word limit I gave myself, but I couldn't find anything I considered "extra" to remove. Just an idea I toyed with that I couldn't be bothered to flesh out into a real one-shot or a chapter story.
"I still don't think this will work." Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes as he straightened the green and silver tie of his son, ignoring the curious looks they were getting. "Of course it will." The young boy huffed softly but let the subject die, causing Draco to smile fondly and smooth his hair.
"Remember what I told you?" Grey eyes so much like his own rolled as the young man nodded. "Yes for the last time. Merlin but you're annoying." Draco thumped him absently on the head and the child fell into a sulk. "Now, let's try this again. Remember what I told you?" Another eye roll but he opened his mouth so Draco let it slide.
"Do not be an arsehole. Do not be obnoxious. Do not flaunt my money. Do not be mean to red haired people, even if they are poor and loud and red. Be extra nice to Harry Potter, because he is a nice person and deserves it."
Draco gave a soft smile and nodded. "Remember, I'll be waiting for you at home. This is important, so try to remember only what I taught you." The young boy looked confused. "What else would I know but what you taught?"
Draco shook his head, smiling softly, and ushered him onto the waiting train. Draco waved softly as the train pulled out of view, and gave a quiet sigh. "Bye Draco," he murmured quietly, fingering the Time Turner under his robes.
The Dark Mark stood out sharply against his pale skin, and Draco hated it. He hated his father for not raising him right, and his mother for always being a shadow in his life. If he had better influences maybe things would have been better.
Maybe he wouldn't have made childish decisions to please the wraiths he called parents. Maybe he wouldn't be in a loveless marriage with a child that reminded him of his father in attitude, something his wife only encouraged. Maybe he wouldn't read the Prophet, feeling the same pang at the sight of Potter and his wife and their three children that constantly graced the covers.
He hated his life. He hated his wife and his son and his friends that had learned to fade away as he had. Maybe if he had been stronger, he could have given them strength too. If he could go back…. And suddenly he realized he could. He had a low level job at the Ministry after all. He snuck the Time Turner out and used it that night.
When he watched his father and mother fall down the stairs he felt a sick sense of glee and stared for a long moment, finally following the soft noises. Inside the crib there was a child with hair so fine he looked bald. Draco smiled softly and picked himself up, clutching him to his chest. "This time, things will be different," he murmured. He would see to it.
Draco Malfoy flooed home, gave a soft smile at the toys strewn about, and sent the Time Turner smashing on the marble floor.