"God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever
believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life."
John 3:16
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters, situations, etc. This fic is for non-profit uses only. But that does not mean you can use it wherever you want! Post it without permission and I will hunt you down! If you want it, just ask. I'll probably be so grateful you like it that I'll give stories out by the dozen. The word definition is taken from the Heinemann Australian Student Dictionary, 6th Edition. Pairings: Draco/Harry, Hermione/Ron hints. Rating: PG Feedback: I couldn't beg enough. Summary: When Voldemort goes back in time to kill Harry, Draco is sent back as well in order to save him. Notes: Told from Draco's POV. Starts when they boys are in 7th year.
* * *
Turn Back Time
The word 'obsession' is defined as something which occupies or dominates the thoughts or feelings continually. It comes from the Latin word 'obsessus', meaning 'besieged'. It really is funny that a dictionary should be able to describe my current state so well.
It is surprising that a small feeling such as the tiniest amount of dislike can grow into obsession the moment you turn your back. Ironic that this is exactly what happened to me, when I had always prided myself on being able to control my emotions.
But, contrary to popular belief, obsession, though unhealthy, is not completely bad. Sometimes, you can notice things about the object of your feelings that even their closest friends do not. Which, in my situation, was exactly the case.
* * * * *
Potter. I could see him, seated at the Griffindor table, laughing with his friends.
It used to annoy me that my eyes would immediately search him out whenever I entered a room. Now, I have grown used to having my eyes follow him everywhere of their own accord, of constantly being acutely aware of his presence whenever we're in the same room. I suppose you can get used to anything.
But there was something.different about him today. He seemed.faded. He was just as energetic as he usually was at dinner, and his clothes were as gaudy as they ever were, but there was something about -him-. I frowned and craned my neck for a better look. Yes, there was definitely a change. His hair seemed less vibrant, his skin less tanned. And his eyes.They were no longer the brilliant green I remembered, they seemed dulled, somewhat. Surely it wasn't just me?
"No, Mr. Malfoy, it is not 'just you'."
I jerked my head around, coming face to face with a certain old headmaster with a flowing white beard.
"Professor Dumbledore!"
"Would you come with me, Draco?"
Ignoring the curious glances from the rest of my House, I nodded, rose, and followed him into the hallway.
"I assume there is a reason for removing me from my dinner, Headmaster?" I asked as soon as we were in the corridor.
"Indeed there is. You, like me, have noticed Mr. Potter fading, am I right?"
I frowned, surprised. He'd noticed it too? Never mind that, he was Dumbledore, of course he'd noticed. But how had he known what I was thinking about?
"You were staring at Mr. Potter like he'd grown an extra head, and you were sitting there as still as a statue."
He smiled at my no doubt incredulous look.
"Don't worry, Mr. Malfoy, I don't read minds. I merely anticipated your question, it was the obvious one, after all."
I suppose it was, at that. Picking my jaw up from off the ground and regaining my composure, I asked, "So what's wrong with Potter and what does it have to do with me?"
Dumbledore just smiled. "Come to my office after lights out. The password is 'Sugar Quill'. You have my permission to be out of bed, though I have no doubt that you are able to get around without being found. All will be explained. Good day, Mr. Malfoy."
I watched him disappear down the hall. There wasn't much this old man missed. Sighing, I shook my head and headed back into the Great Hall.
* * * * *
I waited until all my housemates had headed up to bed before leaving the common room. The headmaster was right, I was adept at sneaking around undetected, the result of many sleepless nights spent roaming the school. I knew all the good hiding places and the halls least frequented by patrolling teachers. If I kept to the shadows, I would be as good as invisible. After all, I was a Slytherin, wasn't I? I was supposed to be sneaky.
Predictably, I reached the gargoyle outside the headmaster's office with no problems. "Sugar Quill," I hissed. It hopped aside and the wall behind it split. Checking one last time that there were no teachers approaching, I ducked inside and cautiously stepped onto the moving staircase. As it carried me up, I made a mental note to have one made at home, leading up to my own room. Upon reaching the wooden doors, I gingerly took the griffin knocker and rapped on the door. The doors swung open, revealing Dumbledore's office.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I see you made it. Come in."
* * * * *
"Sit down," Dumbledore said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. I sat. "Would you like a cup of tea? A biscuit?"
"No thankyou, sir."
"Well, Draco, you are no doubt wondering why I invited you here at this time of night. I assure you it was not just to have a tea party, as pleasant as that would have been."
I nodded silently, waiting for him to get to the point.
"Well, I shall start with the reason for Mr. Potter's gradual disappearance."
"He's going to disappear?" I demanded.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes."
I stared at him in disbelief. Harry? Disappear? He couldn't disappear, he just -couldn't-.
"Don't you want to know why?"
I collected myself and put my mask of cold indifference back up, berating myself for my careless slip.
Dumbledore smiled. "I know you don't hate Mr. Potter as much as you would have the rest of us believe," he said gently. "In fact, I think I can say that you don't hate him at all, that you keep this farce up to hide-"
"Why is he fading, Headmaster?" I interrupted sharply.
"Well," Dumbledore began, obviously amused at my discomfort. "You do know that Voldemort has been trying to kill Harry since he was born?"
I nodded tersely.
"Well, after all these years of failed attempts, the thought occurred to Voldemort that he might not win if they were to fight on the prophecy's terms, as Harry has grown stronger and better at avoiding death. He decided that it might be easier to kill Harry at a younger age, when he would be more vulnerable. Now Voldemort also knows that Harry is safe from his magic because of the blood sacrifice made by Lily, his mother. He knows that because of that blood, Harry is safest in the house of his mother's relatives, the place he lived in until he was eleven and he came here. Unfortunately, Voldemort has now found a way around all the difficulties he has in killing Harry."
A feeling of dread collected in the pit of my stomach.
"Voldemort has gone back in time to the year when Harry was three years old and is going to kill Harry, not with magic, but in the muggle way. And every time he gets closer to achieving his goal, Harry fades a little. When he succeeds, Harry will disappear entirely, and the present will change. Without Harry thwarting his every plan, Voldemort will succeed in gaining complete power."
"How can you be certain of what happened?" I demanded, panic rising, cold mask completely forgotten. "There's no way you could be sure."
"Unfortunately, Draco, I am sure. I received my information from a very reliable source."
"Who?"
A man who had previously been unnoticed by me stepped out from the shadows.
"Good evening, Draco."
Father.
How could he betray his lord? Did he have no pride, no honour? Wasn't he a loyal Death Eater? Didn't he believe in the cause? It seemed that tonight was the night for new discoveries.
He held up his hand. "Before you say anything, allow me to explain."
I nodded and turned to face him, giving him my full attention, as I always had whenever he had something to say.
"As you know, I joined the Death Eaters at a young and impressionable age. I was raised on the belief that wizards were superior to muggles and should not have to hide from those who were inferior to us. Voldemort came, saying that he would liberate us. I wove myself a pretty little fantasy of wizards ruling wisely, preventing the muggles from destroying our world and having their pointless wars. I though we would be able to coexist. The thought was intoxicating, and then, so was the power. But then the killing started. Voldemort's true intentions came out. He didn't want peace. He wanted revenge, he wanted to exterminate the muggles and rule the wizards. I wanted out there and then."
"Why didn't you?"
"I would've.but for you, Draco. You were born just as I was realising my mistakes. I tried to hide you from him, but he found out, he always does. He threatened to take you from us, threatened to kill you. Then he felt your power. You have strong magic, Draco, and much promise, though you may not know it. He though you might be of more use if kept alive. He would give you to someone to raise in his ways. I could not allow you to become like him, Draco. And I could not risk for you to be abused. So we made a bargain. My loyalty in exchange for you. We raised you to be proud and arrogant, to despise muggles, as we had to. But we also raised you with much love and affection. I may not find it easy to show, but I do love you Draco, as your mother does. We sent you to Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang, in hopes that your views may be modified, that you would learn acceptance, that you would be put off being a dark wizard, that you would not make my mistakes. Being a Death Eater, especially against your will, is far from pleasant. But the exchange was worth it. You were more than worth it."
He paused, looking at me. I just sat there, unmoving, trying to process what he'd just said.
"Then this plan cropped up. I could isolate myself from the other cases, I could not harden myself to this. This was not a powerful obstacle in the Dark Lord's path to power, this was a boy my son's age, a boy my son knew who shared his school and classes. Furthermore, this was the wizarding world's only hope. Without him, I, and those like me would be pretending for the rest of our lives. If I did not try to correct my mistakes, you and the rest of your generation would be forced to live in a horrible world of our creation."
I finally regained my voice. "This is all very nice, but what has it got to do with me?"
"Well, Draco," Dumbledore said. "We need -you- to go back in time to save Harry. Only if you're willing, of course," he added hastily.
"Well, I- how?"
"Voldemort used a modified version of a Time-Turner. I can have one made for you. You will rent a flat in the middle of a muggle town, find little Harry, and hide him there for one week. Of course you have to live like a muggle, but I hear that you know perfectly well how to do that." He glanced at Father. "Do not try to disguise Harry in any way, a simple tracing charm will find him regardless."
"Won't it be dangerous to have Harry out in the open?"
"Sometimes the safest place is in the midst of danger."
Ah, Dumbledore. Perfectly clear, as always.
"Hopefully, if you see him at a shopping centre or something, you can blend in with the crowd and disappear. You will, of course, put wards around your flat. I assume you which ones to cast and how to cast them?"
I nodded.
"Of course, you don't have to do this. If you are unwilling, there are others. I am asking you first because you are the best one for the task."
"I'll do it."
"Don't give me your answer now, you still have a few days to decide. I would advise you to think long and hard about it."
"Yes, sir."
"You may go back to bed now, Draco, I think I've deprived you of enough sleep," Dumbledore told me with a smile, his eyes doing that twinkle thing.
I nodded my head respectfully and stood to leave. As I was walking out the door, my father stepped in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders.
"How ironic it is that the one I have done all this to protect will be thrust into the centre of danger," he told me, his normally cold grey eyes- so much like my own-showing a rare display of sadness. " If I know you, Draco, you will do it, and as much as it pains me, I know you are more than equal to the task. Be careful, my son."
He pulled me into an abrupt hug and then pushed me gently out the door.
I made my way back to the dorms in a daze. All the information I'd gained earlier that night swimming around in my head.
That night, I dreamt of my childhood.
I was three years old, clinging to my father's shoulders and screaming in delight as he gave me one of his wild piggybacks.
I was being scooped up into my mother's arms and being given one of her warm hugs.
My father was teaching me how to fly a broom and my mother was laughing and clapping as I kicked off the ground and flew.
Yes, I was loved.
* * * * *
Well? What do you think? Should I go on? Should I be shot? Please review!
John 3:16
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters, situations, etc. This fic is for non-profit uses only. But that does not mean you can use it wherever you want! Post it without permission and I will hunt you down! If you want it, just ask. I'll probably be so grateful you like it that I'll give stories out by the dozen. The word definition is taken from the Heinemann Australian Student Dictionary, 6th Edition. Pairings: Draco/Harry, Hermione/Ron hints. Rating: PG Feedback: I couldn't beg enough. Summary: When Voldemort goes back in time to kill Harry, Draco is sent back as well in order to save him. Notes: Told from Draco's POV. Starts when they boys are in 7th year.
* * *
Turn Back Time
The word 'obsession' is defined as something which occupies or dominates the thoughts or feelings continually. It comes from the Latin word 'obsessus', meaning 'besieged'. It really is funny that a dictionary should be able to describe my current state so well.
It is surprising that a small feeling such as the tiniest amount of dislike can grow into obsession the moment you turn your back. Ironic that this is exactly what happened to me, when I had always prided myself on being able to control my emotions.
But, contrary to popular belief, obsession, though unhealthy, is not completely bad. Sometimes, you can notice things about the object of your feelings that even their closest friends do not. Which, in my situation, was exactly the case.
* * * * *
Potter. I could see him, seated at the Griffindor table, laughing with his friends.
It used to annoy me that my eyes would immediately search him out whenever I entered a room. Now, I have grown used to having my eyes follow him everywhere of their own accord, of constantly being acutely aware of his presence whenever we're in the same room. I suppose you can get used to anything.
But there was something.different about him today. He seemed.faded. He was just as energetic as he usually was at dinner, and his clothes were as gaudy as they ever were, but there was something about -him-. I frowned and craned my neck for a better look. Yes, there was definitely a change. His hair seemed less vibrant, his skin less tanned. And his eyes.They were no longer the brilliant green I remembered, they seemed dulled, somewhat. Surely it wasn't just me?
"No, Mr. Malfoy, it is not 'just you'."
I jerked my head around, coming face to face with a certain old headmaster with a flowing white beard.
"Professor Dumbledore!"
"Would you come with me, Draco?"
Ignoring the curious glances from the rest of my House, I nodded, rose, and followed him into the hallway.
"I assume there is a reason for removing me from my dinner, Headmaster?" I asked as soon as we were in the corridor.
"Indeed there is. You, like me, have noticed Mr. Potter fading, am I right?"
I frowned, surprised. He'd noticed it too? Never mind that, he was Dumbledore, of course he'd noticed. But how had he known what I was thinking about?
"You were staring at Mr. Potter like he'd grown an extra head, and you were sitting there as still as a statue."
He smiled at my no doubt incredulous look.
"Don't worry, Mr. Malfoy, I don't read minds. I merely anticipated your question, it was the obvious one, after all."
I suppose it was, at that. Picking my jaw up from off the ground and regaining my composure, I asked, "So what's wrong with Potter and what does it have to do with me?"
Dumbledore just smiled. "Come to my office after lights out. The password is 'Sugar Quill'. You have my permission to be out of bed, though I have no doubt that you are able to get around without being found. All will be explained. Good day, Mr. Malfoy."
I watched him disappear down the hall. There wasn't much this old man missed. Sighing, I shook my head and headed back into the Great Hall.
* * * * *
I waited until all my housemates had headed up to bed before leaving the common room. The headmaster was right, I was adept at sneaking around undetected, the result of many sleepless nights spent roaming the school. I knew all the good hiding places and the halls least frequented by patrolling teachers. If I kept to the shadows, I would be as good as invisible. After all, I was a Slytherin, wasn't I? I was supposed to be sneaky.
Predictably, I reached the gargoyle outside the headmaster's office with no problems. "Sugar Quill," I hissed. It hopped aside and the wall behind it split. Checking one last time that there were no teachers approaching, I ducked inside and cautiously stepped onto the moving staircase. As it carried me up, I made a mental note to have one made at home, leading up to my own room. Upon reaching the wooden doors, I gingerly took the griffin knocker and rapped on the door. The doors swung open, revealing Dumbledore's office.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I see you made it. Come in."
* * * * *
"Sit down," Dumbledore said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. I sat. "Would you like a cup of tea? A biscuit?"
"No thankyou, sir."
"Well, Draco, you are no doubt wondering why I invited you here at this time of night. I assure you it was not just to have a tea party, as pleasant as that would have been."
I nodded silently, waiting for him to get to the point.
"Well, I shall start with the reason for Mr. Potter's gradual disappearance."
"He's going to disappear?" I demanded.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes."
I stared at him in disbelief. Harry? Disappear? He couldn't disappear, he just -couldn't-.
"Don't you want to know why?"
I collected myself and put my mask of cold indifference back up, berating myself for my careless slip.
Dumbledore smiled. "I know you don't hate Mr. Potter as much as you would have the rest of us believe," he said gently. "In fact, I think I can say that you don't hate him at all, that you keep this farce up to hide-"
"Why is he fading, Headmaster?" I interrupted sharply.
"Well," Dumbledore began, obviously amused at my discomfort. "You do know that Voldemort has been trying to kill Harry since he was born?"
I nodded tersely.
"Well, after all these years of failed attempts, the thought occurred to Voldemort that he might not win if they were to fight on the prophecy's terms, as Harry has grown stronger and better at avoiding death. He decided that it might be easier to kill Harry at a younger age, when he would be more vulnerable. Now Voldemort also knows that Harry is safe from his magic because of the blood sacrifice made by Lily, his mother. He knows that because of that blood, Harry is safest in the house of his mother's relatives, the place he lived in until he was eleven and he came here. Unfortunately, Voldemort has now found a way around all the difficulties he has in killing Harry."
A feeling of dread collected in the pit of my stomach.
"Voldemort has gone back in time to the year when Harry was three years old and is going to kill Harry, not with magic, but in the muggle way. And every time he gets closer to achieving his goal, Harry fades a little. When he succeeds, Harry will disappear entirely, and the present will change. Without Harry thwarting his every plan, Voldemort will succeed in gaining complete power."
"How can you be certain of what happened?" I demanded, panic rising, cold mask completely forgotten. "There's no way you could be sure."
"Unfortunately, Draco, I am sure. I received my information from a very reliable source."
"Who?"
A man who had previously been unnoticed by me stepped out from the shadows.
"Good evening, Draco."
Father.
How could he betray his lord? Did he have no pride, no honour? Wasn't he a loyal Death Eater? Didn't he believe in the cause? It seemed that tonight was the night for new discoveries.
He held up his hand. "Before you say anything, allow me to explain."
I nodded and turned to face him, giving him my full attention, as I always had whenever he had something to say.
"As you know, I joined the Death Eaters at a young and impressionable age. I was raised on the belief that wizards were superior to muggles and should not have to hide from those who were inferior to us. Voldemort came, saying that he would liberate us. I wove myself a pretty little fantasy of wizards ruling wisely, preventing the muggles from destroying our world and having their pointless wars. I though we would be able to coexist. The thought was intoxicating, and then, so was the power. But then the killing started. Voldemort's true intentions came out. He didn't want peace. He wanted revenge, he wanted to exterminate the muggles and rule the wizards. I wanted out there and then."
"Why didn't you?"
"I would've.but for you, Draco. You were born just as I was realising my mistakes. I tried to hide you from him, but he found out, he always does. He threatened to take you from us, threatened to kill you. Then he felt your power. You have strong magic, Draco, and much promise, though you may not know it. He though you might be of more use if kept alive. He would give you to someone to raise in his ways. I could not allow you to become like him, Draco. And I could not risk for you to be abused. So we made a bargain. My loyalty in exchange for you. We raised you to be proud and arrogant, to despise muggles, as we had to. But we also raised you with much love and affection. I may not find it easy to show, but I do love you Draco, as your mother does. We sent you to Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang, in hopes that your views may be modified, that you would learn acceptance, that you would be put off being a dark wizard, that you would not make my mistakes. Being a Death Eater, especially against your will, is far from pleasant. But the exchange was worth it. You were more than worth it."
He paused, looking at me. I just sat there, unmoving, trying to process what he'd just said.
"Then this plan cropped up. I could isolate myself from the other cases, I could not harden myself to this. This was not a powerful obstacle in the Dark Lord's path to power, this was a boy my son's age, a boy my son knew who shared his school and classes. Furthermore, this was the wizarding world's only hope. Without him, I, and those like me would be pretending for the rest of our lives. If I did not try to correct my mistakes, you and the rest of your generation would be forced to live in a horrible world of our creation."
I finally regained my voice. "This is all very nice, but what has it got to do with me?"
"Well, Draco," Dumbledore said. "We need -you- to go back in time to save Harry. Only if you're willing, of course," he added hastily.
"Well, I- how?"
"Voldemort used a modified version of a Time-Turner. I can have one made for you. You will rent a flat in the middle of a muggle town, find little Harry, and hide him there for one week. Of course you have to live like a muggle, but I hear that you know perfectly well how to do that." He glanced at Father. "Do not try to disguise Harry in any way, a simple tracing charm will find him regardless."
"Won't it be dangerous to have Harry out in the open?"
"Sometimes the safest place is in the midst of danger."
Ah, Dumbledore. Perfectly clear, as always.
"Hopefully, if you see him at a shopping centre or something, you can blend in with the crowd and disappear. You will, of course, put wards around your flat. I assume you which ones to cast and how to cast them?"
I nodded.
"Of course, you don't have to do this. If you are unwilling, there are others. I am asking you first because you are the best one for the task."
"I'll do it."
"Don't give me your answer now, you still have a few days to decide. I would advise you to think long and hard about it."
"Yes, sir."
"You may go back to bed now, Draco, I think I've deprived you of enough sleep," Dumbledore told me with a smile, his eyes doing that twinkle thing.
I nodded my head respectfully and stood to leave. As I was walking out the door, my father stepped in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders.
"How ironic it is that the one I have done all this to protect will be thrust into the centre of danger," he told me, his normally cold grey eyes- so much like my own-showing a rare display of sadness. " If I know you, Draco, you will do it, and as much as it pains me, I know you are more than equal to the task. Be careful, my son."
He pulled me into an abrupt hug and then pushed me gently out the door.
I made my way back to the dorms in a daze. All the information I'd gained earlier that night swimming around in my head.
That night, I dreamt of my childhood.
I was three years old, clinging to my father's shoulders and screaming in delight as he gave me one of his wild piggybacks.
I was being scooped up into my mother's arms and being given one of her warm hugs.
My father was teaching me how to fly a broom and my mother was laughing and clapping as I kicked off the ground and flew.
Yes, I was loved.
* * * * *
Well? What do you think? Should I go on? Should I be shot? Please review!