UNO
Draco Malfoy absolutely adored birthday presents. Well, really, who doesn't, but Draco Malfoy really loved getting birthday presents. Bad things happened on Christmas and other holidays, but the only surprises on his birthday were good ones, like the pony he got for his sixth birthday, or the Firebolt he got on his seventeenth birthday.
Or the present he got two years ago on his twenty-first birthday, when his boyfriend of sixteen months proposed.
Last year had been the lovely trip to the Caribbean for an entire month and, when married to a very in-demand Auror and DADA professor, a whole month of private, undisturbed canoodling was very nice as a present.
So, with his history for birthdays, it was not with a little annoyance that Draco Malfoy settled down for bed on the eve of his twenty-third birthday in a nice, comfortable, silk-covered bed.
Alone.
Potter, that wanker, wouldn't stop being a wonder boy, so, as a result, his husband of a year and a half was going to sleep at ten-thirty on the eve of his birthday without anyone to warm him up. Or to wake him up when the nightmares started, as they invariably did when he slept alone.
Draco Malfoy was not happy with life.
Several hours later, Draco sat bolt upright with a strained gasp as he pulled himself from a familiar nightmare of the Battle of Hogwarts. Luckily he had managed to wake up before he got to the part where Gregory Goyle—no, he wasn't going to think about it. I am going to take a Dreamless Sleep potion and go back to sleep. Draco told his quaking innards firmly. I can and will sleep this night through without Harry. I do not need him to help me through this.
Draco stumbled out of bed and entered the majestic, marbled bathroom. He dug through the medicine cabinet, looking through his various potions. He seemed to be out of Dreamless Sleep. Draco looked around, considering whether they would have any in another part of the mansion at Godric's Hollow.
Harry probably has some. He thought to himself as he reached for his husband's cabinet. He probably has something that will help me sleep, anyway. If I didn't know him better, I'd think he was a drug addict. Draco smiled wryly as he opened Harry's cabinet to reveal row upon very neat row of little potion bottles in single dose amounts. Some of them were rather sketchy in nature; anyone other than the savior of the wizarding world would probably be under suspicion for having these, but everyone made allowances for the famous wizard.
Draco searched the rows for the distinctive purple potion but couldn't find any. How on earth did they both run out of the same potion at the same time when both were freakishly attentive to their supplies?
Draco sighed, but saw, in the back corner, the color he was looking for. He pulled it out, but noticed that the bottle wasn't labeled. He worked out the stopper and smelled the potion carefully: it smelled like Dreamless Sleep. He glanced around for a second potion, one that would limit the effect to six hours, and took both back to his bed. Waving his hand idly to put out the candle, he downed both potions in the dark.
That's funny. Draco thought to himself as the blackness descended. That didn't taste like Dreamless Sleep.
Harry James Potter was so incredibly ready to hit someone that he was actually waiting for the Slytherins to walk into breakfast.
First, it had been finding Hermione and Ron making out in his bed, something that had apparently been going on since the middle of sixth year. Harry was happy for them, really, but he sort of wished they had gotten around to telling him that they were dating in the six months they had been together.
Then, Colin and Dennis Creevey had pounced on him and asked if they could take a picture of him with their little cousin, who was just starting this year. And, could he autograph the picture, too?
After that, McGonagall had walked up to him as he was heading out of the common room. "A word, Mr. Potter?" She said, motioning him to the side.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked, sort of expecting this to have to do with Quidditch. Perhaps he had been made captain, as no one had been given the position yet.
"Mr. Potter, I am very sorry to inform you of this, but the headmaster feels that, because of the recent attacks from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it would be best if you didn't play Quidditch this year. I am very sorry, but your safety depends on you staying where you can be protected, and you won't have time anyway with all your extra lessons." McGonagall looked very saddened. "I am so terribly sorry, Harry, but it is for the best."
As she was speaking, Harry felt completely numb. At the last statement, a shock of resentment went through him and made the hair on his nape stand up. How dare they tell him what was best for him? Hadn't they stuck him with the Dursleys for his entire life? Hadn't the headmaster thought he could be controlled by Voldemort? Hadn't he kept the prophecy from him long enough to kill Sirius?
Now, as he was waiting for the Slytherins to come in and help him get rid of his angry energy, he couldn't help glaring at everyone who walked by, with special concentration on the headmaster, who sat serenely in his place at the head table.
Harry noticed McGonagall hurrying in to talk to Dumbledore and knew, instinctively, that they were talking about him. Point for Potter. He thought bitterly as Dumbledore glanced up and motioned for him to approach the head table.
Harry couldn't help stomping there, though he tried not to look too childish, as the Slytherins were entering from the side door.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked shortly.
"Harry, I know you're angry about this, but you must understand that there are pressing reasons for this." Dumbledore began. Harry settled down for a long explanation that would only serve to make him feel guilty for not having already killed off the bastard that had marked his forehead.
Draco Malfoy awoke with an abrupt start to find himself in the hospital wing of Hogwart's School. Looking blankly around him, he struggled to remember what he had been doing to land himself back here, where he had so many memories of intense pain.
It was strange, but he didn't feel at all injured.
"Mr. Malfoy, you're finally awake! We were getting worried." Draco blinked as Poppy walked out of her office. He hadn't seen her in years, but she looked just the same as she had when he'd been in school.
"Yes, well… I don't actually know what happened." Draco said slowly. "The last thing I remember is going to bed last night."
"That's certainly a shame, because we have no idea what happened to you either. A prefect found you unconscious on the floor in your boxers, completely uninjured or hexed, as far as we were able to see. We couldn't wake you up physically or with magic."
"Huh." Draco said. "Well, I feel fine. Hungry, but fine. Can I go?"
"Well, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with you, so I suppose so." Poppy said. "I had a house elf bring you some robes."
Draco nodded his thanks and changed into the student robes. He made a face at them and transfigured them into something a bit more… stylish. Dressed in leather pants and an open over-robe in black over a white shirt, he walked from the hospital wing towards the Great Hall. Judging by the sunlight streaming through the windows, it would be about time for breakfast.
I wonder where Harry is. He thought to himself. I shall really have to withhold something important if he doesn't have a stupendous reason for leaving my side.
Draco walked into the Great Hall along with a group of Slytherins. Funny, he thought with bemusement, they look just like the second years from back in my school days.
He glanced around for Harry and saw him standing with his back turned, talking to the headmaster. The familiar raven locks seemed much shorter than usual. Did he get his hair cut when he got back from India, or wherever he was going the day before my birthday? Draco suddenly realized that he couldn't remember when Harry had returned from that trip. Or, in fact, what had happened on his birthday.
There is something wrong with me. The blond thought to himself, reigning in his panic as he headed over to his husband. Harry will help me sort this out.
Harry had apparently finished talking to Dumbledore, because he turned away and started towards the doors out of the Great Hall. Draco grabbed him as he moved past and gave him a hot, open mouthed kiss.
Harry didn't respond to the kiss. Draco pulled back, confused. The Great Hall had suddenly gotten very quiet.
"Harry?" Draco said. The green eyed boy didn't respond. Eyes wide, jaw dropped, Harry looked like he had just seen Draco run naked through the halls with "Gryffindor rocks" permanently tattooed across his chest.
Draco glanced around. The entire hall was looking at him like that. Even Snape had his jaw agape.
Wait a second. Snape retired three years ago! Draco's attention was suddenly brought back to the boy in front of him when a speedy fist slammed into his jaw, knocking him off his feet and onto an unfortunate first year Hufflepuff.
The world wavered for a moment as Draco lay, stunned on top of the dazed Hufflepuff. There was extensive activity around him, but all he could think of at that moment was What the bleedin' fuck was that?
Hands suddenly were gripping his arms, hauling him to his feet. The Snape-that-was-supposed-to-have-retired was holding one arm, and Professor Vector had the other. McGonagall was yelling at Harry, who was looking mutinous.
Draco suddenly came back to himself and shoved the two teachers off him. Stepping around McGonagall, who was getting alarmingly red-faced, he faced his errant husband.
"Harry James Potter-Malfoy, what the flying fuck is wrong with you?" He said in a dangerously low voice that cut off the Transfiguration teacher.
"Potter-Malfoy?" Harry said incredulously. "Did you hit your head really hard or something? Do you realize that you just assaulted me with your mouth? And not in the usual way, either!"
Draco stared blankly at him and suddenly realized something. Harry looked about seventeen years old. This was not the face Draco was accustomed to seeing every day.
"Harry?" Draco said, voice quivering slightly. "What's going on?"
"That's what I want to fucking know!" Harry shouted, annoyed at the confused, almost vulnerable look on Malfoy's face.
"Language, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall broke in, obviously intending to rekindle her rant.
"I…I don't understand." Draco looked around, feeling disoriented. He looked at his godfather. "You… didn't you retire three years ago?"
Snape gave him a wary look. "What is the last thing you did before you came in here?"
"I woke up in the hospital wing. Poppy gave me student's robes, so I transfigured them to regular clothes." Draco replied, tugging at his stylish over robe.
"And before that?" Snape asked. The entire hall was still gawking quietly, obviously hoping that the drama would continue out in the open.
"I was…going to bed." Draco said slowly. "It was the night before my birthday, and I was pissed because Harry went to India that morning and I had to spend my birthday without him."
"Today is your seventeenth birthday." Snape told him. "What was that about Potter leaving?"
"He was—what?" Draco suddenly realized what his godfather had said. "No, it's my twenty-third birthday."
Snape exchanged a look with Dumbledore, who was standing quietly, watching them. Harry was staring at him with incredulity. The ferret's finally gone 'round the bend! He thought to himself with equal parts amusement and alarm. This could either be very good or very, very bad.
Draco was suddenly wishing he had stayed in bed. He would even welcome the nightmares, as long as his husband stopped eyeing him like a dangerous beast.
The nightmares!
"Wait! No, I went to bed, but I woke up with my nightmares and went looking for Dreamless Sleep! I was out, so I went through Harry's cabinet and found a vial that I thought was Dreamless Sleep and then a time limiting potion, only the Dreamless Sleep didn't taste right, and then I woke up in the hospital wing."
"You drank an unknown potion?" Snape said incredulously. "Have I taught you nothing in your six years here?"
"Well, it was Harry's, and I figured he wouldn't have anything dangerous lying about." Draco said defensively.
Harry and Snape snorted in unison before giving each other wary looks. "Malfoy, have you never noticed that I always have dangerous things around me? I even had Tom Riddle's diary for a while!"
"Voldemort?" Draco said, startled. "Voldie had a diary?"
"Voldie?" Snape repeated, wide-eyed. The Great Hall was filled with shocked gasps and whispers.
Draco gave him a weird look. "You came up with the name, remember?"
"I did not!" Snape snapped harshly, giving him an offended glare.
At that moment, the doors in the Great Hall swung open to produce a large crowd of upper year Slytherins, with Draco Malfoy at the head.
Draco Malfoy? Draco did a double take as he looked straight into the eyes of his seventeen year old face. There was a shocked silence as the two stared at each other.
Draco the Elder stepped forward slowly and stretched a tentative hand towards his double. Draco the Younger started and almost fell over when Draco the Elder touched him with a quivering finger.
Draco the Elder abruptly whirled around and faced Dumbledore. "Ok, what the hell is going on?" He demanded, voice rather high pitched with panic. "Am I going crazy? I am Draco Malfoy, right? I'm not some Hufflepuff with a really strong Confundus or something because I really can't handle this right now." He began to hyperventilate slightly and wished that Harry would step forward and rub his shoulders like he usually did when Draco started to panic.
Both versions of Draco were staring wide eyed at Dumbledore, obviously hoping he would fix this cosmic mistake. There was a very pregnant silence in the Great Hall as the ancient man ruminated slowly over the facts.
"Uh…Draco?" A voice broke the silence. Both Draco's stiffened slightly, but the elder went a deathly white color.
Draco Malfoy-Potter turned around very, very slowly to face the speaker. There, with his usual confused face, stood Gregory Goyle, whom Draco hadn't seen since Greg's guts had been ripped out less than a foot from him during the final battle of the war.
There was a rather loud crash as Draco the Elder passed out cold on the Great Hall floor.
A/N- I am planning to finish my other fic (Chimera Luck), I just kind of got this idea and I went with it… ok, so I didn't want to finish my college essay…
