C4 Back in Time

Draco Malfoy stumbled slightly as he stepped though the portal. He was still in the cellar of Greengrass Imports, but as he turned around, there was no portal doorway behind him, and his sister-in-law, Daphne Greengrass Nott was not standing there. "Well, Merlin's beard, the damned thing worked, and it didn't kill me. Now to find out how far it sent me back," he said to no one but himself. He wondered if he arrived at the same time that he had left, and quickly cast a charm, and saw that it was one thirty in the morning. He looked around the room, he noted that there was not much stored down where he was, but he was familiar with the entire building, and he had not needed to use the cellar as storage until well after he and Astoria took over running the import business. Draco then decided to make his way out of the store, careful not to trip any of the security measures that he had learned about from his father-in-law. He made it to an alleyway behind the store and then made his way towards Knockturn Alley, knowing that he could find some useful assistance in one of the shadier establishments there. As he walked down the alley, he entered a pub and he noticed there was a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet on a counter. He picked it up, asking one of the men seated nearby if this was the latest edition, to which he received the growled response, "If it only has more stupid business about that arse Fudge improving the quality of imported cauldrons so they won't blow up making potions, then it probably is."

Draco picked up the paper and saw the smiling face of Cornelius Fudge capped by his trademark green bowler hat, holding a shiny new cauldron with some unnamed dignitary with silver and blue robes. Draco glanced up at the date and noted that it was March 3, 1986. He smiled slightly realising that he had just travelled back in time 33 years. Cornelius Fudge apparently was still working for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, still marketing on his renown for having been present at the arrest of Sirius Black. Draco tucked the paper under his arm and left the pub, wondering if there would be important and potentially useful information in that particular edition of the Daily Prophet, but he highly doubted that it would.

Two doors down in the alley, Draco found what he was looking for. He walked into the darkened establishment and knocked his hand on the counter. After repeatedly knocking there was eventually a stirring in the back and an old hunched wizard stepped out from behind a curtain.

"What can I do you for?" muttered the old man.

Draco had his hood drawn obscuring his face in the poorly lit room. "You can help me create some special papers, identification and the such."

The man eyed the stranger in front of him warily, "Now why would I do that? Aurors are all over the place and that is just the sort of thing that could get a man sent to Azkaban."

"Now, now, Mr. Summers," Draco replied quietly, "we both know that there are no Aurors anywhere near this alleyway. And we both know that you are one of the more skilled forgers there is, despite your barely being able to have graduated from Hogwarts all those years ago. While your own magical skills are limited, the ones you have are most useful for a man in my position."

Summers raised an eyebrow. "And how is that you know anything about me, and I know nothing about you?"

"You don't want to know the answers to either of those questions," Draco stated simply. "However, once we conclude our business, you will have an extra 200 galleons, and I will have the documents that I need."

Another eyebrow was raised. That was twice his usual price. "If these identification papers are so important, then I need to be sure they are even above my usual standards of work. 300 galleons will be the cost."

"350 galleons with the special conclusion to the deal that you offer, shall we say, certain clients," replied Draco.

Summers realised that he could have probably gotten away for asking for more if the man in front of him was so quick to accept the deal and he even knew about the special guarantee for safety. "Just fill out these forms, desired name, desired birth date, desired records. Now, certain records may take a little extra time to arrange to be fully put into place. That's the reason for the extra cost. Especially on such short notice."

"You have 1 week, no more," stated Draco as he completed the information. "I will be back in one week and I will expect everything to be ready."

"It will, mister…" Summers left his statement hang between them.

"O'Malley," replied Draco. "Dr. O'Malley." Draco then pulled out a document. "All of the information you need to create the appropriate papers are here. I will even leave you a deposit of 200 galleons to help you make sure that the appropriate confirmatory documents are completed in a timely fashion."

Summers was not used to being paid so much up front, nor was he used to a certain lack of clearly described threats. Those two issues had him more concerned than usual. But he reasoned that this would be one of his more lucrative deals, so he dared not to question his new customer.

"One week," stated Summers quietly as he slid the galleons off of the counter and into a pouch.

Draco nodded and left abruptly.

Draco had little he could do in this time line until he had his new identification papers, so he simply checked into a room at the Leaky Cauldron. Paying up front in gold galleons for the room allowed him to get a room and food and have no questions. Only minor glamor charms were used to disguise his appearance so he would not look like he was related to the Malfoy family.

One week later, Draco arrived at the shop at Knockturn Alley shortly before midnight. He had avoided interactions with almost everyone so as not to arouse suspicion and to help prevent anyone from recognising him upon his planned return to magical England in a few short years as Dr. AC O'Malley. As he walked into the shop, Summers appeared quickly from behind the curtain, even before Draco arrived at the counter.

"I have all of your documents, Mister, or should I say, Doctor O'Malley," stated the magical forger.

Draco nodded silently and looked at the offered documents. Birth certificate, identifications, school records, both for an Australian magical school and for a Canadian Magical school. He placed all of the meticulously created documents into a satchel and then he looked at Summers.

"Is everything in order?" asked Summers.

Draco tilted his head slightly, "So it would seem." He then reached into a pouch that was around his waste and pulled at a pile of coins then he placed one hundred and fifty galleons on the counter. "This should just about complete our transaction," stated Draco.

Summers looked at the money on the counter and then back at Draco.

Draco smiled at him slightly, "Are you ready?"

Summers took a deep breath, nodded quietly, placed his hands on the counter and looked directly at the man who was now known as Dr. O'Malley.

Seeing no response to his question other than Summers' preparing himself, Draco pulled at his wand and pointed it at Summers' head.

"Obliviate," stated Draco calmly and a slight flash of light escaped his wand and connected with the man in front of him. Draco considered briefly taking back some of the money as Summers' memory of any interaction with him would be erased, but he decided against it, wondering to himself why he was actually being so noble. Then he spun around and made his way out of the building and away from Diagon Alley. He knew that there was little he could do at this time, as neither he nor Harry Potter were students yet, and the return of Voldemort was still years away. With a slight pop, he apparated away and began his trip to Australia.

A few short years later after making numerous public speeches about the history of magic and have a number of articles published in magical journals in America, Canada and Australia, Dr. AC O'Malley had been appointed as a professor at the Queensland Institute of Magic. His reputation as an educator and as a magical historian was growing in the English speaking magical world that was not crippled by pure-blood politics despite the apparent loss of a civil war to the more liberal minded magical people, for in England the Pure-Bloods managed to lose the war as the "light side" defeated Voldemort but the Dark Lord's supporters still managed to maintain much of the control of the society including prominent places within the Wizengamot and the Ministry of Magic. Draco was pleased that he was able to keep to his time table and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before the magical media in England picked up on his story and he was still set on meeting his target of speaking in England in 1990 with the ultimate goal of obtaining a position as a professor at the very school that his younger self was about to start studying at.

4.1

March 2019

Draco had arranged his meeting with Daphne after he received the message from her. He held the note that she had sent to him tightly in his hand as he recalled what she had written.

"Draco,

It is with a certain amount of pleasure that I am happy to inform you that my reminiscing on the old days has been beneficial. I have hope that the things I have learned should be able to bring me some satisfaction in the future, knowing that I cannot change my past. It is time for you to travel, and I doubt that I could make such a journey as you plan to embark on. Leaving in the middle of the night is often the time of thieves and those who seem to be running from something.

So many different thoughts come rushing to my mind. The things that I have been working on have given me hope. The hope is perfected in the idea of what things could be.

Perhaps the family business has been good to you over the years, you know that the offices of Greengrass Imports hasn't changed much at all since before I was even born.

I recall my childhood fondly, and as I recall, it was a Saturday evening, about 1 in the morning, that my sister was born. It was a little after 1 in the morning, I remember being woken up by the sounds.

But that is all I can think to share with you at this time. There is no time like the present, or so they say.

Best wished for safe travels,

Daphne."

He took the meaning to be clear: they would meet at Greengrass Imports on Saturday night at about 1 in the morning. She was prepared to send him back in time, possibly to the time when Astoria was born. Either way, the message was understood that he would be meeting Daphne that night and he wasn't worried about someone seeing this message as it would be read as the babbling foolishness of a sad witch who mourned the passing of her sister.

Draco had been to the bank earlier that day, and he had emptied out most of the accounts. He had them converted to galleons, specifically into older galleons, ones that were marked in goblin years. The goblins thought that this was odd, as the Ministry of Magic had forbid the trading of such currency in the magical world, and only Gringotts bank or other goblin run businesses would even honour them. Draco had also procured a special multi-compartment trunk which he had filled with various items, including a wardrobe of older clothes, and the gold he had obtained.

As he stepped into his office in the back side of the building, Daphne was already waiting for him.

"Nice to see that you let yourself in," commented Draco dryly.

Daphne gave him a half smile, "You must have known that Daddy Dear would have always have special ways for family to come and go from the building."

"I wouldn't doubt that," responded Draco. "He was a stern man, a serious business man, but one who always cared for his family. I'm not sure that either you or your sister fully appreciated that about him."

Daphne ignored his comment, not wanting to deal with the emotions relating to her late father or even her late sister. "So, you were clearly able to decipher my message."

"As I am here, the implications are obvious," said Draco. "Not that it was terribly hard to figure out, although it would have been nonsense if read by someone else. I credit you for your ingenuity."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "I wasn't sorted into Slytherin and then accepted as an Unspeakable solely for my beauty."

"No, never for your beauty," agreed Draco with a smirk.

Daphne glared at him momentarily before explaining the process. She had developed a special array with runes marked with the time-turner dust. Once the preparatory spells were cast upon the array, Draco would simply have to step through the runic doorway and he should arrive in the past.

Draco had listened closely to her plans, and nodded in understanding. After a moment he then asked her, "So, what happens when I leave? Or more precisely, when I arrive in the past."

Daphne shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I have no idea. Well, actually, I do, but I am not sure which possibility will come to pass. There are two possibilities, or more actually. Chances are likely that I will have no idea if you actually managed to make it back in time. Because if you do, either you are not successful in anything you do, and time does not change. Or it does. Then, if it does, either this existence will no longer be and the me that is me will not be here. Or the other option is you create a new timeline, a new reality if you will, and I continue in this timeline, in this miserable existence, while my younger self is hopefully rescued from the future which I have experienced."

Draco paused for a moment. "But how will I know? I would hate to think that you are trapped in this life."

Daphne smiled briefly. "That's sweet, especially coming from you of all people, but there are still a couple of options. If it seems that you do not return to this present yet you have managed to go back in time and everything seems to be as it is, then I could try to travel back in time myself, or I could possibly be discovered by my supervisor for illegally arranging for time travel and all of my work will be confiscated and I could be sentenced to Azkaban or worse."

Draco sucked in a quick breath at her admission. "What could be worse?"

Daphne looked at him through half closed eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I work with Unspeakables in the Department of Mystery, trust me, there are many things that could be worse."

Draco considered giving her a hug before Daphne set to preparing the device to send him back in time, and he knew better than interrupt as she completed the runes and began to cast the spells. Once she had finished the spells she stood tall and turned to face him.

"Everything is now ready, Malfoy," she stated simply, returning to using his last name to block any emotional reaction in speaking with him.

Draco knew better than to refer to her by her married name, and he gave her a warm smile. "You know, you were right about meeting here. We know what to expect in the basement of this building. Either your home or my home would have been too risky, not knowing what I would actually encounter when I arrive."

"I know," agreed Daphne, "I am the smart one here."

"Yeah, right," said Draco nodding slowly. "Well, then here's to a better for future. For all of us."

Daphne smiled thinly at his comment. "And perhaps a better past."

Draco once again considered giving his sister-in-law a hug, but he decided that it would be best to be sure to arrive in the past with all of his body parts intact, so he again stopped himself from stepping towards her. "Yes, a better past and a better future, and maybe you won't be so cold, and I won't be such an arse."

Daphne actually smiled at his words. "No way that is going to change. You will always be an arse."

Draco then raised his eyebrows and gave her one last smile, then he turned around and stepped through the runic doorway. There was a bright flash that filled the room as Draco disappeared.

4.2

Draco found himself in the basement of the Greengrass Import business. He proceeded to cast a tempus spell, and noted that he had arrived on a Saturday evening. He was relieved that he would not have to deal with anyone, as it was a weekend and the store was closed.

And so it begins, Draco managed to arrive int he past, and he then was able to arrange for his new identity. He had his new identity, his papers and he was on his way to Australia. Over the next few years he actually surprised himself with how easy it was to insert himself into the magical world and how little investigation there was into his background. It seemed that a quirky magical scholar who studied modern and ancient magical history was not considered a threat to anyone and everyone immediately accepted his credentials. Even the illustrious and world renowned Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore did not do more than a cursory review of his credentials. Which had easily led to his being present for the sorting of the new students on the night of September 1, 1991.

Draco watched amusedly as he saw his younger self, and his former friends and classmates and even Harry Potter get sorted. He wondered to himself at the length of time that Potter took to get sorted, that was something that he did not recall from the night he started school. Perhaps it was because his eleven year old self was still angered by the outright rejection by Potter as he accepted the friendship of the lazy blood-traitor Weasley. He caught himself thinking about Blood-Traitors and shivered slightly, recalling that his own family would soon be labeled as such. But for some reason, that gave him no fond memories or any inkling of compassion for the large clan of ginger magic users.

Two weeks into classes for the term and Draco had experienced his first faculty meeting. He returned to his office and sat down heavily and gave a loud sigh. "I can't believe that Snape actually tried to use legilimency on me during that meeting," he said out loud, knowing that there was no one who could hear him. "No wonder so many of the students in the other houses despise him. Stunts like that and he acts as if he wasn't doing anything rude or illegal."

He checked the time and saw that it was still early. The students were mostly off studying after finishing their evening meal. As it was a Tuesday evening, he knew they would not be at Hogsmeade, so he decided that he would make his way down there, as he had no intentions of socialising with his former professors. The image of a loner and quirky professor was one that he was more than happy to cultivate. Less questions from the other faculty, less problems as he worked on completing his tasks in this new timeline.

4.3

The other faculty had left Dumbledore's office, leaving just the headmaster and his potions professor.

"So, Severus, tell me, what did you discover during tonight's meeting?"

Snape grunted slightly. "Quirrel is clearly not the same person who used to teach muggle studies. He is nervous, even in the faculty meeting, rarely making eye contact with anyone. It seems to me that he is not fit to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Ahh, yes," stated Dumbledore with a fatherly tone, "Quirinius did report that he ran into some difficulty over the summer holiday. He had a trip throughout Europe, looking to gain more practical skills to aid him in his new position. I do recall that he mentioned he had a bit of a surprising setback at one point, possibly when he was in Albania, or was it in Morocco? He did travel all around the Mediterranean. He even described learning some new medication techniques, and somehow that was all linked to his newly acquired headwear. The turban seems to be quite the fanciful addition to his wardrobe. Although, I don't think I would ever choose to wear such a thing."

Snape rolled his eyes as he tried to get that image out of his mind.

"And what of our new history professor?" asked Albus. "Did you learn anything about Dr. O'Malley?"

Snape shrugged his shoulders. "His passive occlumency shields are above average, that is most definite."

Albus frowned, "So you were unable to learn anything about the famous scholar from Australia?"

"Not at all," corrected Snape. "While he does have formidable shields, I did not state that I was unsuccessful." He sneered slightly before continuing. "Dr. O'Malley is an angry man. That much is certain. What he is angry about, that is kept well hidden. He is bitter yet he has a quiet determination."

"Is he a danger to our staff or our students, or any of our plans?" asked Dumbledore who was now a little concerned that he had not used more of his own legilimency skills when he first met the professor.

"I do not think so," added Snape. "He is determined to be a successful history professor, in fact I even was able to detect a clear desire to change the magical world through his role as a teacher."

"Well, that is most reassuring, and quite honourable," acknowledged the headmaster. He sat quietly in thought for a moment before he added, "Minerva did comment to me just the other day that Dr. O'Malley is quite serious about assisting in reconciliation among students who have had disagreements. Even between your godson, Draco, and young Harry Potter."

Snape grunted at the suggestion. "I see no reason to pacify that arrogant fool! He's just like his father!"

"But Severus," replied the headmaster, "we must do what we can to give your godson every chance at redemption. Draco does not need to grow up to be like Lucius."

"I was talking about Potter," growled Snape.

Dumbledore straightened himself as he stared at his potions professor. "I have seen nothing that would indicate that Harry is either arrogant or in anyway, other than his appearance, in anyway like his father. His father was man with many good qualities."

Snape sneered at the comment, "And all of them seem to be lost on me." With that the head of Slytherin stood up and left the headmaster's office.

4.4

Draco walked into the Three Broomsticks and made his way to a secluded booth in a corner. There were not many customers present this night and he was much relieved to see that. He pulled out his satchel and starting reviewing some parchments and adding notes to them. Notes about his plans for affecting the future, his new future. Daphne had given him instruction on a spell that would keep whatever he was working on undecipherable to wandering eyes so that any of his note taking about current events and how things were changing could be kept secret from prying eyes.

He was interrupted from his work by a woman's voice. He looked up and realised that someone was asking him what he would like to have. He hastily ordered a butter beer when he realised that he was looking into the eyes of the woman who ran the establishment, Madam Rosmerta. He smiled briefly at her and then returned to his work.

Madam Rosmerta was a little put off. Most male customers did not ignore her, that much she knew. She wasn't being vane or conceited, but she did know that her looks would easily draw more tips and that many of the men and even boys would ogle her while she worked. She had gotten used to it over the years that she had worked her, since the late sixties, shortly after she had graduated from Hogwarts. Many of her customers assumed that she worked here because she was not skilled at magic, however that was far from the truth. She was quite adept at magic, a skill that stopped many a fight in her establishment and allowed her business to be run smoothly. But she was definitely not used to receiving a brush off or being ignored by a customer. She walked back to the bar and considered that this new customer, for she knew everyone who came into her tavern, may have just been busy with whatever it was that he was working on. She then asked one of the other waitresses to bring the stranger his requested butter beer as she went to check on her few other customers.

Two weeks later, Madam Rosmerta was puzzled and a little intrigued. Her new customer, whom she quickly learned was the new professor for History of Magic at Hogwarts, had been showing up almost every night, he always ordered one butter beer, and nothing else, and he always was busy at work on his papers. And never once did he ogle her. In fact, she was convinced that anytime he caught sight of her he would quickly look away. He never leered or acted like a love sick puppy, but more like someone who was embarrassed about something. This had become obvious enough to her, a witch who prided herself in her ability to read her customers, so that she had decided that she needed to learn just what this man's issue with her seemed to be. Which was what lead to her sliding into the bench opposite the professor in his booth this particular evening and staring at him.

Dr. AC O'Malley was busy reviewing his parchments when he realised that someone had sat down at his table. In the couple of weeks that he had been coming here as a place of solitude he had never had anyone join him, a fact that had made him feel more comfortable with returning to the Three Broomsticks regularly. As he looked up he suddenly found himself staring into the eyes of the one person he did not want to have any contact with while he was at the Three Broomsticks. In fact, she was the reason why he almost gave up the idea of coming here at all.

Madam Rosmerta smiled at the professor across from her, especially as she noted he had a very uncomfortable look come across his face. "Okay, mister, O'Malley is it," she began, "I really must pry, what is it with you?"

Draco was caught off guard. He looked around the room and then back at the proprietor sitting across from him. He rubbed his chin as he formulated a response. "Excuse me, but how do you know who I am?"

She laughed at his question, "There are not many new professors at the school and I am quite well versed on who comes and goes from my little tavern, so it was quite easy to learn who one of my new regular customers is."

"Oh, yeah," mumbled the history professor, "that would make sense."

"Of course it does," she added with a larger smile. "But that still does not answer my question. What is it with you?"

AC looked around the room once again and looked back at her a little confused. "Excuse me? Have I done something wrong? I do try to keep to myself when I am here."

Rosmerta laughed once again, this time a little quieter. "Right. You're the perfect customer. However, I have also noted that you are the only male who doesn't even look at me. In fact, you avoid looking at me as much as possible. Have we met at some time in the past and did I do something to offend you? Because I really get the feeling that you are upset with me about something. Which then makes me wonder just why you come here every night, or almost every night."

AC moved his hand to rub his forehead. He let out a deep breath that he was holding while the proprietor was telling him that she had noted he seemed to be ignoring her. Then he looked up at her, unable to hide the embarrassment from his face. "Have you ever, uh, ever had the sensation that you met someone before? It's just that something about you reminded me about someone I knew when I was younger, much younger." He shifted slightly in his seat due to his discomfort, but then he continued. "So, yeah, you remind me of something I did once, something I am not proud of."

Rosmerta's shoulders relaxed at seeing and hearing the obvious discomfort in the man sitting across from her. Then she smiled slightly at him. "Well, I don't recall anyone like you doing anything to me that I would be upset about, and you said you remind me of someone else that you did this thing to…"

AC nodded to indicate that he was following what she was saying.

"So, here's the thing, you're obviously upset about this thing that you did and I gather that you aren't able to find this person and apologise to her," continued Madam Rosmerta. "So, since you are reminded of her when you see me, why don't you just apologise to me, and consider it all even."

AC shut his eyes as he considered her words and once again ran his hand through his salt and pepper beard. He looked back at her and shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I could try that, but apologies have never been my strong point."

Rosmerta smiled at him once more. "No one said it had to be perfect, it's for you anyway, it's not for me."

AC had many thoughts run through his mind at her words and internally was cursing himself for his actions as a youth all those years ago. It made him realise he needed to reach out to his younger self to hopefully help guide him away from some of the choices he knew that he was destined to make. Then he looked back at Rosmerta who was still sitting across from him, waiting on him to speak, and still smiling sweetly at him.

"Well, okay then, would you forgive me for hurting you, for causing you to do something that you didn't want to do, for my hurting you and others?"

Rosmerta could see the pain behind his eyes. She didn't even try to figure out what it was that he had done to some unknown witch when he was younger, but considering the sincerity she could hear in his voice and the struggles he had in facing her, she did the only thing she could in response to his confession. "Of course I forgive you, mister, or doctor O'Malley. Or should I say AC? That is what you go by, I hear, AC."

AC leaned back into his chair and let out another breath.

"Now, that wasn't too hard, was it?" asked Madam Rosmerta.

"You don't know the half of it," he stated solemnly.

"But I don't need to," she added, and gave him her smile once again. "So, how about you and I start over and you stop avoiding me?"

AC nodded, "I suppose." He then held out his hand, "Hello, Madam Rosmerta, is it? I'm Dr. AC O'Malley, professor of History of Magic at Hogwarts."

She beamed at him as she shook his hand. "It's a pleasure," she replied. "Please feel welcome to come here anytime, to enjoy a meal, a drink, or find a place to do your work away from school."

She gave him a wink before she stood up and walked away from the table.

AC looked down at his papers on the table which magically had become indecipherable while she was sitting there with him. Slowly the writing became clear as he put the papers back together and placed them back in his satchel. As he made his way back to his quarters at Hogwarts he felt lighter, he felt more at peace with himself than he had in years.

AN: I will be referring to Draco who has travelled back in time as AC from now on so as to make a distinction from his younger self in the story. Hopefully this isn't confusing. Yes, I changed it in the middle of one scene — which was the first major time in the story that he needed to be referred to as AC (from my perspective as the writer)