Chapter 2:

Family

1 September, 1991

Malfoy Manor

Draco pleased his father with a cunning smile, a mask of course, hiding his true feelings in front of his father was a must do. He knew better than to screw up things this earlier with his family. Then the best image he could thought off in awhile came to his mind. His mother. She was alive! "I will ask mother to help me with this." He bit his lower lip.

Draco didn't waited for his father's approval, the teenager stuck in the body of a boy was already sprinting down the hallway faster than he could ever could in the past. He made a decision. Any punishment his father would give him later for his current behavior would be nothing compared to the feeling of being able to embrace his mother once again.

The last tears escaped his eyes, Draco tossed them aside at the sight of his mother who sit next to the fireplace in the room. "Mum!" He spoke loudly running to hug Narcissa. "Draco, what happened to your hair?" she asked with a sweet tone. "Oh, is a bit of a mess, isn't?" He said trying not to move away from her arms.

"Do you want me to comb your hair?" she said to Draco who took a few seconds to answer, "Is gonna be hard to deal with this everyday on my own. Can you cut my hair a bit?" Narcissa placed her son's book about History of Magic on the table, and waved her wand around her son's neckline. "Your father is not going to like the cut-."

Draco thought about his past experiences, the details his father had taught him about keeping his hair in check was troublesome. As the years passed, Draco preferred to have short hair, he wanted a look similar to what he had during his fifth year at Hogwarts, a touch from his mother. A very loud voice screamed deep inside his very being. It told him to stop.

Draco knew his own nature; he was weak, a coward, a liar and a horrible wizard. "Honey, you can let me go-" Draco focused so much on the moment he forgot that his father would follow him, and just in time he came to witness the shameful behavior of his son. Lucius sighed. "What a disgrace." He hit his house-elf with his cane, and walked away from the door-frame.

"Narcissa!" He shouted from down the hall. Narcissa used her wand to get rid of the silver hair over her black dress and walked past her son as fast as she could to meet her husband in the hallway. Draco swallowed hard. This action could ruin his relationship with his father, no, this single move could had alter the whole timeline.

Cause and Effect.

He rushed his hair backwards thinking what to do. He sat and thought. How foolish his mother had been in the past, one single word from Lucius and she went running to him. He needed a way to get rid of the dark lord and free his family. Draco took a good look at the room, it would serve for his lodging and planning room.

Draco stayed behind to pick up all the books from the floor, many of the covers were familiar to him, he remembered reading some of them, but what put a smile on his face was that he used to throw them all over the place for the house elf's to had to pick them up and place them in order every night. Draco distracted himself by arranging the shelves to avoid joining his parents' argument in the hallway.

He badly wanted to yelled at his parents' but fear chained him, Draco hoped that one day they will stop arguing about his future, and support him and his decisions. The argument had ceased one hour later. It was late already, Draco knew by this time that he wasn't gonna meet the famous Harry Potter today, and his plan just went out the window. But he was relief.

Thinking about a way to free the house-elf so Harry wouldn't hate him was bad enough already. Why didn't his father take his mother's thoughts into consideration about what was best for their son?

Well, Lucius never cared what his mother thoughts. It had to be something else. Something was bothering his father. Besides his childish behavior, what else could be bothering his father this much?

Draco's actions triggered something in Lucius. His father was worry about something. Draco assumed. It had to be about work or about the Death Eaters. He had to find out soon. Another half hour passed when Narcissa came back into the room. Her mother was a complete mess in Draco's eyes, fixing part of her dress that hung from her shoulder Narcissa approached Draco.

"Merlin's beard, Draco. You're bleeding." Narcissa used a non-verbal spell to try and fix the wound on her son's hand. Draco's heart skipped a beat when he saw that Narcissa eyes widened. She recognized the symbol on his hand, but said nothing. "This is difficult. We will talk later." She began to wrap his hand in white cloths.

"Mum, your hair is a mess." Having an idea of what happened, Draco did all he could to not laugh about his parents tension, after all, a kid his age shouldn't trouble himself with such matters. "Thanks, mum." He said when she kissed him on the forehead. "I'll be right back." Narcissa got up from her knees, and left the room.

Draco first thought was that she was probably going to go upstairs change her clothes, and come down. He looked clueless when a sick thought struck his mind. Draco vomited behind the chair-arm.

...

Draco awoke early the next morning, and started packing stuff his father had bought him, but most of it were books. It seems his prayers were granted. The books were expensive, brand new, Lucius bought him The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 2) by Miranda Goshawk. Lucius always pushed Draco to be ahead of the class.

He wanted a gifted son. It was always the same old habit, but he couldn't accomplish that earlier on his past life. Draco put the book aside. The room windows where still shut, but it had to be daylight, the house-elf's had already brought him his breakfast to his room table. There was a soft tapping noise at his door.

And there's Lucius knocking on the door, Draco thought, his heart sinking. He didn't know if he should apologize to his father, the hell, he didn't deserved it, but Draco wanted to try, at least give him the benefit of the doubt. "Honey," Narcissa whispered, "Are you up yet?" Draco smiled. "I'll be right there." His body for some reason felt the same sensation he haves when he eats chocolate.

...

After convincing his mother to use apparition to get to Diagon Alley, Draco made sure to memorized the feeling, and accustom his new body to that feeling. Apparition could at least be an usable ability in his later years. His father had bought most of the things in his school list, but there was one last thing Draco had to be present for- his wand.

Draco was not prepared for this part, as it is the wand that chooses the wizard. What if he wasn't chosen? Could a wizard by chosen twice? In the past, Death Eaters had taken others wands and used those as replacements. They arrived at the narrow and shabby shop. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B. C.

As soon as they entered, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy." said a soft voice from behind a counter that led to a labyrinth of thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The old man approached, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop at Draco's soul. It felt like he knew something.

"I'm here for my wand," said Draco polite as possible. "Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. Lucius Malfoy's own offspring here at my shop." It wasn't a question. Draco didn't answered. He knew the old man was trying to get a reaction out of him. Like father, like son. He was literally calling him a brat. Draco tighten his fist.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Narcissa a piercing look. "Very formal— Mr. Malfoy. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?" Draco approached him. "I'm right-handed, sir." He measured Draco from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head.

As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Malfoy. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." Draco swallowed. He knew this info already.

But. would. he. be. chosen. That was the big deal.

Draco tried. Not even one. But dozens of wands. He had no idea what he would do if Mr. Ollivander knew about his trip through time because of his wand selection. But what if he was not chosen at all by any wand? Draco found weird, that the pile of rehearsed wands was piling up higher and higher in the floor, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to be.

"Not my first tricky customer this week. Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere, Mr. Malfoy." Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours. It seemed like he was not suppose to be chosen at all. Narcissa saw his son sweating, and cleaned him. "Mum, I am fine." Draco pulled the wool from his face trying to speak.

"Mr. Ollivander we are sorry to bother you. We'll go somewhere else." Narcissa was about to approach the door when Ollivanders returned with a peculiar box. It immediately called his attention. Maybe this was the right one. "It seems I am out of wands for you to try out. But this wand in particular was brought to me by a Hogwarts teacher." Ollivander took out the wand Draco skipped a heartbeat.

"I wonder, now — yes, why not — unusual combination — yew and phoenix feather, thirteen an half inches, very powerful and fearsome wand." Draco felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Narcissa clapped her hands with spurious joy knowing the truth about the wand. Mr. Ollivander leaned toward the boy, "Oh, very good my boy, well, well, well. . . how curious. . . how very curious..."

Draco remember the wand very well. Ollivander was probably gonna spill the beams on them. Draco thought as Ollivander placed Draco's wand back into its box and wrapped it in silver paper, still muttering, "Curious. . . curious..."

Draco, "Sir, If I may, what so curious?" Mr. Ollivander fixed Draco with his pale stare. "Yes, Mr. Ollivander what's so curious about my son's wand?" Draco looked at Narcissa who had a smile, which he wished she did not have.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Malfoy. Every single wand. It so happens that the wand you are destined to. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when — it belonged to You-Know-Who." Draco felt sick, he wanted to puke once more. Why was he chosen by the wand that murdered his mother? And how did the wand ended here?

Narcissa interrupted, taking Draco's wand, and his arm, "I think we will expect great things from my son, don't we Mr. Ollivander?" Narcissa showed worry on her face, Draco felt her trembling hand, the future wasn't safe at all for the Malfoy's.

Draco stood thinking about his future, and Narcissa felt his hand trembled as well. The Dark Lord will want his wand back when he raises to power once more. This current events were bad. Draco shivered at the thought of having four years before the Dark Lord rises to meet his fate. He wasn't sure he had the advantage anymore. Narcissa paid seven gold Galleons for the wand, and they left the shop in a hurry.

The clock is ticking, two hours remain before the Hogwarts Express leaves ...