Chaos Theory tells us that a butterfly flapping its wings in China can cause rain to fall in Central Park in New York. In essence, only one small thing needs to change in order to produce over time a dramatic result. In this story, one small thing did happen differently. And because of this, in an Alternate Universe, JK Rowling is best known as the author of:

Draco Malfoy and the Chamber of Secrets

An alternative history of events compiled by HiBob.

Chapter One: All Things Are Relative, Part One

Draco grunted. He stretched and pulled. The bolt came loose. In a thrice, he had the carburetor free. He turned and placed it on the cart for Mick to work on after he finished the car he was working on.

"Whot now?"

Draco looked over to see a brown-haired girl perhaps nine years old.

She said, "Hi."

"Jennifer?" It was the sister of Justin Finch-Fletchley, Draco's best mate at school. "Whot you doin' here?"

"We came down, for the big surprise."

"Whot big surprise?"

"That we came down," Justin answered as he stepped up. "Mister Kowaleski told us not to tell you."

"You're dirty," Jennifer commented needlessly.

Mick's voice came from the next bay. "Dragon, clean up and have some fun."

"Thanks Mick."

Mick, AKA Michael Kowaleski, was Draco's boss for the summer. With his wife, Janice, spending most of her free time taking care of the new baby, and Cheryl was proving to be a handful, he needed the extra help. And Draco was more than happy to be there.

When Draco ran away, he was put into a home. Janice was a permanent fixture there already. She became his first friend. Mick was her boyfriend. He became Draco's second friend. Between them, Draco learned a few things. He learned to pick pockets, and locks. He learned to read. He learned how to keep a careful watch, and how to signal discreetly if trouble was coming, especially if trouble was wearing a badge. He learned to shuffle a deck of cards so that the Ace of Spades, or whatever card he chose, would always be on top. He learned petty larceny and where to sell stolen goods.

Draco also learned something else from them. He learned to change. The death of a friend changed his friends. They now owned a small auto shop and were trying to make an honest living. Mick had also done one other thing. After Draco had been thrown out of his old school for fighting, the boy found out his name had been put in for a scholarship. This gave certain people a convenient excuse to have Draco attend his new school. All Mick knew about the new school was its name. Hogwarts.

What Mick didn't know was that Draco was a wizard. Hogwarts was a school of Magic, specifically: The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And Draco couldn't tell him this. Until the school contacted him, Draco, and everyone else, believed he was an orphan. He originally was called Draco Atkins because he didn't know his last name. Everyone believed that the name Malfoy came from one of his fantasies. It didn't. That was the name on his letter of acceptance to Hogwarts.

As Draco washed up and changed, he could hear the Finch-Fletchleys downstairs. They were cooing over the baby. He knew Janice would be beaming at all the attention. Justin Finch-Fletchley was Draco's first real friend his own age. Except for a girl named Hermione Granger, but she was a girl and that wasn't exactly the same thing.

"Ain't as posh as your place," Draco commented as Justin looked in his bedroom. It was a small room with a cupboard. Half the space was taken up by the bed.

"You live here?" Jennifer asked in disbelief. "But it's smaller than my closet?"

"I thought your mum told you to stay downstairs?"

"It smells, too."

A voice came up from below at that moment. "Jennifer? What Did I Tell You?"

"Yes, Mummy." The girl frowned and climbed back down the narrow staircase to the area below.

"Sorry," Justin told his friend. "She never meets poor people, I mean . . ."

Draco hid his feelings. He knew he was poor. But he hid it with a smile. "Crisp it, Justin. I'm used to it. Truth is these old clothes yer mum gave me are the best clothes I ever owned. Except for me school clothes I ain't ever own anything new."

His last act of dressing was to put on his wristwatch, a Christmas present from Justin's family. They went down the staircase single file, not that there was a choice, and stepped into the combination parlor, living room, den and nursery. Draco looked around. Everything was used and old, but it was clean. Mister and Missus Finch-Fletchley had dressed down, he noticed, but they still looked better than anyone else. Janice didn't seem to notice. She was watching with a mother's anxiousness as someone else held her baby. Missus F was telling her that Cheryl was such a precious gift. Then Janice noticed Draco.

"Feel like a ball of chalk?"

"I guess. Where to?"

"Promised Miss Carmichael I'd drop by wit' the pictures. Can't now. The company."

Draco frowned. "Can't it wait. It's just pictures of a baby." It was the wrong thing to say. Without even a pause for Janice to react, he added. "On me way. Where's the pics?"

"Thank you," came the frosty reply, as Janice pointed to a small bag.

"I'll join you," Justin offered.

"It's a good ten blocks."

"I'll go, too," Jennifer told them.

"You'll stay here," Mister F told his now frowning daughter.

"Next time," Draco promised and the girl smiled again.

Draco couldn't help enjoying himself as he and Justin began their trek. Justin, with only jeans and a shirt, still felt out of place. But this was Draco's home. This is where the eleven year old boy had cut his teeth. Draco paused in his mental musings. It was the First of August.

"What's that?" Justin asked after they had walked two blocks and turned a corner.

Draco looked up. There was nothing unusual, for him that is. "Whot?"

"It looks like a giant dog. It seems to be watching us. Or am I paranoid?"

"You see 'im?" Draco was surprised. He had seen the shaggy black dog plenty of times in the past but no one else ever seemed to. Justin did. And Justin spotted it first. "I seen 'im all the time, but only me." He gave Justin a knowing look. "Until now."

Justin nodded slowly as he understood Draco's comment. The dog had something to do with magic. There was not much conversation after that. Both boys felt out of place. They also began to walk faster. Then they turned a corner and stopped.

"Why the rush, lads?" a snarling teenager said as he blocked the boys' path. His jacket, draped on his shoulders, opened slightly to reveal his hand and what it was holding. "I want ya to meet me Lady from Bristol."

Draco smirked. "Looks more like yer Black an' Decker, Nigel."

"Draco?" The teen's hand disappeared and came out from under of his jacket empty. The hand reached out and brushed the blond hair from the boy's forehead, revealing a lightning-bolt scar. "It is you, Draco. What's wit' the long hair an' the fancy clothes? They 'alf-inched?"

"Naw. I get a better stash of 'and-me-downs now. Mick got me inna this posh school up north. Oh, this is me mate, Justin. We're 'eadin' to see Miss Carmichael. Justin, this is Nigel. He 'elps keep strangers outa the neighborhood."

"You're doing a fine job," Justin said, half in fear.

"Oooh, a fancy one this is. Careful 'round here, Draco. Next bloke who stops ya might not remember yer name."

As they walked away, Justin shivered. "That was too scary."

"Nigel? Pistol don't even have bullets. It's a lighter 'e picked up at the Chemist for a couple of Quid."

"Not that. The dog. Draco, I could see it. It looked like it was going to attack, but when you started talking, it just sat down and waited. As though it knew what was going on. I think it's a watchdog."

Draco turned his head. The dog was across the road, pacing them. A watchdog? All this time? He had one other thought. Who wanted him watched?

They reached Grimauld place and turned the corner. Draco had to stop. It had been so long since he had been here, almost a year. In a voice choked with emotion, he said, "This is it."

Justin's voice held his disbelief. "You grew up . . . here?"

Draco nodded, and wiped away an unwanted tear. "Home."

They continued walking. Justin seemed to see everything but Draco saw the street of his memories. The occasional rat was only something to kick at. Whatever trash didn't rot or blow away would eventually be kicked out of sight or into the street for the sweeper to get, whenever it bothered to come through. As they walked up to the entrance, two boys looked up warily from where they were sitting on the steps. One was younger than Jennifer, blackish hair and the haunted look that most new arrivals had. The other looked Draco's age but taller, with short blond hair and a more resigned expression. He was a bit on the fat side but from the sag of his clothes he had lost most of it already. Fat didn't survive in this place. This one was another throwaway, just like Draco. He was here because he had no place to go.

"She in?" Draco asked the throwaway. The boy nodded. Draco and Justin slipped past him into the foyer. To the right was the kitchen, to the left was the recreation room. They walked down the long hallway. Draco knocked.

"Enter," the familiar voice said, and Draco opened the door. Everything looked the same, even Miss Carmichael, although she did have more grey in her hair. She looked at him and smiled. "If you take at least one step forward, your friend can enter the room and then you can introduce us." She smiled at Draco's blush and pointed him to a pair of chairs.

"Sorry." Draco ambled forward and handed her the bag. "We just came by to give you these. This is Justin. He's a mate from school."

Miss Carmichael looked up. "It is my pleasure, Justin. And I assume Draco has told you who I am?" Justin nodded. "And you do know why you're here?"

Draco stared in surprise when Justin answered yes. His surprise continued.

"Draco, why don't you and Master Finch-Fletchley sit down while I explain why you were tricked into coming here."

"You know 'im?"

"We've never met, but I do know of him." Miss Carmichael smiled as she opened the bag Draco had given her. "Can you control your curiosity while I first look at my goddaughter?"

Draco had to smile. His grin grew wider as the phrases, "What a darling," and "How adorable," filled the air. Finally she sat the pictures down and looked directly at the young blond boy. "Let me start by saying Happy Birthday."

"Whot?"

"I've checked. It's the first day of August. And you are now twelve."

"You know?"

Miss Carmichael was surprised this time. "You knew?"

"Yeah. Was 'bout the only thin' I could remember. Din't tell cause . . . How'd you find out?"

She opened a drawer and pulled out a thick, folded piece of paper. "From this?"

Draco took the paper and opened it. "Whot is it? Can't read this."

Justin looked over. "It's in French. It's your birth certificate." He pointed out the words with his finger. "This is to verify that Draco Malfoy was born this day, August 1st, at 12:58 AM

That's your mother's name, Lily Malfoy. And that's your father's name, Lucius Malfoy. According to this you were born in Calais."

Draco was horrified. "You mean I'm French?"

Miss Carmichael was laughing. "No, dear. You were only born there. I think that was the only time you were out of the country." Her laughter settled into a smile. "Now, if I were you, my next question would be HOW did I manage to find that document when you told me you made up that name."

Draco hid his thoughts very well. The last thing he needed to do was to explain how he found out what his last name was. "Alright, how?"

The woman smirked. "You are the master of understatement. Do you remember when you asked me about changing your name? You told me that Malfoy meant bad faith in French. But, as you've just shown, you did not even recognize the language when you saw it written down. I took a chance that it was a residual memory, something left behind that suddenly surfaced."

Justin jostled Draco's arm. "She means you knew it all along but never knew you knew it."

"Cor." It was true. He had said that and he didn't even think about it. It simply came out.

Miss Carmichael continued. "Inspector Givens was helpful when I told him about my suspicions. And Malfoy is not a common name. Our first clue was when we discovered you were born out of the country. That would have been shortly after you left for school. And it was only a short time later that I had the good fortune to receive a reply to my inquiries from General Registrar's office. It seems that I opened up a can of worms."

Draco asked with a laugh, "You caused trouble?"

"Yes, I did. And even now I'm not sure that I regret it. We found your parent's death certificates, as well as your legal transfer of guardianship to your mother's sister, one Petunia Dursley. The General Registrar contacted me when their records failed to turn up anything else about you. That is when Inspector Givens' superior stepped in. He made it into a legal investigation."

Draco's jaw was open. She had even found out about the Dursleys.

"What happened?" It was Justin who asked.

"According to the report of the local investigator, when he had his interview neither your aunt nor her husband were able to give coherent answers. A cursory search of the premises showed that the understair cupboard had been converted at one time into a . . . I believe he used the word, cage. A more extensive inspection of the cupboard, including pulling up a couple of loose floorboards, produced evidence that a child had once been in there, evidence that a child had been in there for a significant period of time." All of this was said in a toneless voice. "It's amazing what you can find out once you know what you're looking for."

Draco looked over at Justin. Justin was clearly disturbed by what he had heard. "Hey, good thing Hermione ain't here. She be cryin' 'er eyes out."

It worked. Justin laughed as he shook his head. "Not her. She be demanding their heads. I mean," his voice became serious, "I've heard about things like that, but to know someone it happened to."

"I remember running away," Draco said dryly. "All I remember is 'avin' to leave." He suddenly laughed. "And Given's kneeling in front of me, saying, "'ello, Sunny Jim." His smile faded as he turned back to Miss Carmichael. "What happened to 'em?"

"The Dursleys are still awaiting trial, not that you need to be overly concerned. It will all be handled by the courts. They are keeping me informed because I am a concerned party and, if you like, I will let you know the results."

Justin replied, "I hope they get everything they deserve."

"One of them won't." Miss Carmichael was looking at her desk.

"Whot?"

"One of the Dursleys, Draco, will be hurt, is being hurt, by all of this. They have a son, a few weeks older than you are. Until this case is resolved, and perhaps longer, the parents are not permitted to care for their boy."

Draco frowned. "But 'e 'as relatives." A pause. "Don't 'e?"

"An aunt," Miss Carmichael acknowledged. "She was contacted about taking custody of her nephew but she was preparing for a vacation and told the authorities to take care of him until her return."

Justin snorted. "That's a joke. Right?"

The woman shook her head. "Sadly, no. The lady in question fully expected the government to do exactly that. When she returned a fortnight later she was outraged that a judge had ruled her unfit as well. After that happened, there was the incident of the boy's parents trying to visit him without proper supervision. That, in turn, was followed by an incident between the boy and a schoolmate. The other boy required hospitalization. After that, the child was removed from the area completely and sent elsewhere, away from everything familiar to him." A hand held up said to wait before making any comments. "I should tell you that the boy did have his parent's attitude, making it very difficult for most of the people involved to feel any sympathy for him. He was very much his father's son."

As am I, Draco thought idly. He looked up at Miss Carmichael, who seemed to be thinking about something. After a pause she looked up again.

"You've never had a birthday party before."

Draco's eyes lit up as the obvious finally registered. That was the surprise. That was why Justin was here. That was why Mick suddenly had the idea, last week, of cleaning up the yard behind the garage. Everyone already knew about his birthday. Draco laughed at the irony. He thought no one knew, and everyone thought he didn't know.

"You're comin'?"

"Later. I have work to do. A possible placement. And I might bring a couple of guests. They would enjoy a party."

Draco didn't have to ask anything. Odds were the couple of guests were the ones sitting outside. And he knew, if he were still here, he would love the chance to do something even if he didn't know anyone else. Miss Carmichael cleared her throat and Draco looked up again.

"Whot? Do I 'ave to agree?"

"Janice already said yes. I thought you might like to put an end to this maudlin conversation and go back to see if the other guests have arrived yet."

Draco's eyes were dancing. He glanced at Justin. The other boy nodded. He said a quick goodbye and started to run out of the office. He stopped and walked back to the desk when Miss Carmichael called him, told him not to run, and handed him his Birth Certificate. Document in hand, he said another quick goodbye and left with the intent of getting back to Mick and Janice as quickly as possible.

"It's cultural shock, Draco," Hermione Granger insisted. "I mean, I knew you were poor, but . . ."

"I know. Poor sounds a lot better than it looks."

"I should apologize, but . . . your bedroom doesn't even have a window."

"Sure it does." Draco took her into his bedroom and closed the door. He reached into the cupboard to move aside the shirts that were now hanging there (thanks to Justin growing two inches) and showed her. "See. Took the door off so it woun't block the sunlight. Beside, it's only for the summer. Mick's making a go of the shop and 'e's saving the money. Next summer, both me an the baby'll 'ave proper rooms."

Hermione shook her head. It was still too much for her. They went downstairs and out the back door. All of the old car parts had been tossed in one corner and there was plenty of room for the party. Janice was sitting at the picnic table, a wide flat board supported by two old oil drums. She was holding Cheryl. The Granger and Fitch-Flechley mothers were cooing over the baby while the fathers were with Mick by the makeshift barbeque.

Justin and Jennifer looked up in relief as the two returned. Now they were free to leave their mother's watchful eye. Draco offered to give them the tour of the shop, more as an excuse to get away than because everyone was interested. As they had to walk through the kitchen, a stop by the fridge gave everyone something to drink to keep them cool. (It was a perfect summer day: sunny and hot.) Through the den, and the office then into the garage. But when they reached the office Draco glanced out the window.

The dog.

The shaggy black dog was sitting across the road, watching.

"Hermione, do ya see that dog?"

"Yeah?"

"He's here?" Justin asked.

"What dog?" Jennifer asked as she looked out. She was upset when her brother explained that it was a magic dog. That only witches and wizards could see it. She kept looking out the window when everyone else went into the garage. Then she shouted. "Justin. There's people there now. They just appeared."

As he was standing by the switch, he turned it so that the bay door would open. Draco truly experienced mixed emotions. Three people were walking across the street. The man leading the way was one of his teachers, Professor Black. Behind him, grinning widely, were Fred and George, the Weasley Twins.

Hermione gasped. "How are we going to keep magic a secret with them around?"

"It's only his friends," Jennifer offered.

"For now," Hermione said and pointed to a car that was pulling up. It was Inspector Givens.

"Draco," Professor Black said with mock friendliness. He held out his hand. "Happy Birthday."

Draco took the proffered hand. "Thank you, Professor."

Fred snickered. "You should try to sound like you mean it."

At that moment, Inspector Givens stepped up with his wife and daughter.. He nodded politely to Black. "It seems I'm not late after all." He held out his hand and also wished Draco a Happy Birthday. He turned to the other man and introduced himself and family. He knew Draco well enough not to rely on good manners. Sirius Black returned the honours, which included the Weasleys and that he was their escort.

Givens nodded politely. "You're one of Draco's teachers?"

"Ethics."

Givens cocked an eyebrow at the man. "Did he pass?"

"He did outstanding," George offered helpfully.

"Really?" Givens had both eyebrows raised. "And he did this honestly?"

"There was nothing we could actually prove," Sirius Black said seriously.

"Ah, I see."

"And may I ask what you do, Mr. Givens."

"It's Inspector Givens. I'm Draco's parole officer. And call me Andrew."

Professor Black cast a laughing smile at Draco. "And I'm Sirius."

Draco pointed to the office and spoke in a monotone voice. "Through there. Turn left. Go straight. Everyone's out back and the beer's in the coldbox."

After the two men left, Fred had to ask what a parole officer was. He knew. But he just HAD to ask.

"What's this?" Fred asked innocently.

"Look," George said, "it's attacked to this knob. He then turned said knob.

"I felt something," Fred exclaimed loudly, knowing that almost everyone was watching them. "George, I think I understand. To operate this device, you pull on this handle."

"DON'T." Hermione was adamant. "You know very well what will happen."

"Poor boys like us?" George asked. "We don't even have running water where we live."

Fred pointed the device at Hermione. Hermione glared back.

"Put down that hose. NOW."

Fred looked nervous. He lowered his hand so the nozzle was pointing to the ground. Then he shrugged his shoulders. Quicker than the grin he flashed, he raised the nozzle and pulled the handle. Hermione screamed as the cold water hit her. Before Hermione could react, Jennifer demanded to be next.

For most of an hour, water was flying everywhere except the table and the grill. By then, the food was ready. Miss Carmichael arrived with the two boys, as Draco suspected, but she had another guest with her. Draco smiled at the familiar face.

"Wotcha, Mahresa."

The girl looked at Draco, who was dripping wet, and laughed. "Wotcha, Draco. Happy Birthday."

It was night. Everyone would be leaving soon. Most of the food had been eaten, and all of the birthday cake. The adults were inside, as was the young boy Miss Carmichael brought. The boy never said a word the entire time he was here, Draco remembered.

"That was fun," Hermione said, sleepily. She shot a glance at Fred. "All of it."

"It was," Fred admitted. "We had a great time, Dragon."

Draco snorted. Mick had called him that, and now Fred and George made it a point to do the same. What would happen, Draco mused, when they returned to school."

It was Mahresa who spoke next. She spoke to the throwaway. "Did you have fun, Dudley?"

The boy nodded. "Haven't had a chance for fun in a while."

Mahresa gave a light laugh. "I know. We have to grab it whenever we can." Draco watched as Mahresa nodded her head in his direction while still looking at Dudley. Dudley shook his head, to say no.

"Whot?" Draco asked.

Dudley answered while he and Mahresa kept eye contact. "She was afraid I wouldn't like you." He turned to look at Draco. "You're a decent chap in my book.."

Draco shrugged his shoulder. "I'm glad someone thinks so."

Justin laughed. "Don't worry, Dragon. Wait until he knows you."

"Thanks," Draco muttered.

The calls came from the parents. The party was over. Hermione hugged Draco and whispered that she was going for her school supplies on Saturday. They agreed to meet at the bookstore.

Mahresa and Dudley were the last to leave. That was no surprise. Miss Carmichael would want to spend as much time as she could with Cheryl, even if the baby was only sleeping.

"You don't know," Dudley said as the three stood outside the door to the kitchen.

"Know what? The big secret between you an' Mahresa? You fancy her?"

"All the boys do," Mahresa answered playfully.

"I'm Dudley . . ."

"I know," Draco told him.

"Dursley."

Draco froze. Vague memories swam through his head. Nothing he could remember clearly. But all the memories shown, not hate, but a callous disregard. The memories said that Dudley had been taught not to care about Draco.

"I thought you'd 'ate me, for what 'appened."

Dudley nodded. "I did. At first. I didn't even remember you. And I didn't even care when they told me about the cupboard being . . ." he faltered.

"A cage," Draco supplied.

"Yeah. Didn't care then."

"So, What 'appened ta change your mind?"

"Ritchie," Mahresa answered.

"Ritchie?" Draco repeated.

"Him," Dudley acknowledged. "Ritchie knows about cages, too."

Draco staggered as if struck. It was one thing to know that something terrible happened to you. It was another to find out that it also happens to other people.

"Draco?" It was Mahresa. She had seen his reaction. "He's safe, now. He has friends."

For a brief second, Draco was elsewhere. He was younger than Ritchie. He was in a strange place, with strange people. He knew no one. A skinny girl twice his age, with her hair cropped as close as his was, looked down at him. She told him he was short. He apologized. She asked him why. There was nothing wrong with short. Short could be useful. She sat down on the floor and forced him to sit down as well. She pointed out that children only stayed here for seven days and he had been here for eight. That meant that he was safe to know since he wouldn't be disappearing anytime soon. As of right then and there, he was her friend. Her name was Janice.

"Yeah." Draco smiled. "Ya can always count on frien's."