Chapter 2

You think it happens when you've stopped caring. When all the tenderness and warmth are stripped away and all that's left is cold and empty and broken.

But you never imagine it will happen like this. With our arms around each other, our hearts full of love and neither of us wanting to be the first to let go.

-Lang Leav

Present Time: November 2002 / Draco's Time: Same as present

When they tumbled into Hermione's bedroom a few minutes later, after Draco had relieved Hermione of her jeans, Crookshanks was napping on the center of the bed. "Sorry, Crooks," Hermione said as she scooped the cat up, "you need to leave."

Crookshank glowered at Draco as he slowly made his way out of the room. Draco smirked back at him, then stuck his tongue out. He heard Hermione clear her throat and turned to find her lying back on the bed in just her knickers, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Are you done?" she teased.

Draco kicked the door closed and climbed onto the bed, positioning himself on top of her. "You're gorgeous," he whispered into her ear, then he nipped her ear lobe and started kissing her neck.

"How is it that I'm practically naked and you're still wearing all your clothes?" she asked breathlessly.

Draco lifted up on his hands and smirked down at her. "Obviously, I'm winning."

"Is this a game?"

Draco just smiled back at her and started kissing a path down her neck and chest, stopping to take one of her nipples into his mouth. He sucked on it lightly and grinned inwardly when she threw her head back and moaned, "I think I might be the one winning."

Draco moved to her other breast as he reached a hand down inside her knickers. At first, he just placed his hand flat on top of her groin, tapping his fingers lightly on her slit every so often. She was so wet and probably already ready for him, but he wasn't in any hurry. This could be his last night with her and he wanted to draw it out as long as possible.

Hermione buried her hands into his hair as he continued to devour her breasts. "You can take those off," she panted.

"I know," he said with a smirk. When he looked up at her, she was on her elbows again, watching him, her desire evident on her face. His cock twitched at the sight of her looking so undone, and he hadn't even started, really. He wanted to unwind her further, to completely unravel her.

Draco sat up and carefully removed her knickers. When Hermione was naked, she pulled herself to a sitting position and began working on the buttons of his shirt. When the buttons were undone, she pushed her hands into the sleeves of his shirt and began pushing it down his arms. Draco stiffened.

She was about to see his Mark for the first time since they'd been together. How would she react? Would she take back the "I love you" from earlier once she was reminded of the evil he'd been a part of? Hermione paused when his shirt was just halfway down his arms. "Are you okay, Draco?"

Draco just looked back at her, at a loss for words. Realization flashed in her eyes. She understood. Of course she did. Hermione looked down at his chest and began kissing the countless scars there, murmuring, "I love you," every few moments.

Then, she pulled his shirt off the rest of the way and tossed it off the bed. She wrapped her hand around his Mark and Draco flinched slightly, not because it hurt or anything, he was just alarmed at the thought of her, someone so good and pure, touching it.

She stared back in his eyes as she said, "I love you," again.

"Why?"

She kissed the side of his mouth. "Because you're who I've been looking for." She moved to kiss the other side of his mouth. "You're the person I hate but am inexplicably drawn to." She kissed his cheek. "The person who unsteadies me." Then she kissed his jaw. "The one who makes me question everything I thought I knew."

Draco grabbed her chin and kissed her deeply, entwining his tongue with hers. She placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled herself closer to him as they explored each other's mouths.

"I believe I'm the one who told you that," he said when he finally pulled away for air.

She gave him a sad smile. "You also said you thought the universe wasn't cruel."

Tears stung his eyes and he looked past her, toward the dresser behind her as he remembered their conversation from that day.

"I believe I'm the person you've been looking for."

"And why is that?" she'd asked sardonically, still not convinced.

"Because you're who I've been looking for and I don't think the universe is that cruel."

He'd been so wrong.

"Sorry. I'm killing the mood," Hermione apologized, pulling his face back so he was looking at her again. She looked down at his forearm before speaking again.

"The point of that whole rant was just to say - you don't need to hide from me, Draco. You hide yourself from the whole world, which is why so many people hate you, because they don't know how sweet you can be -" she looked up at him and smiled, "-but you don't need to do that around me. At least, for however much longer this lasts."

Draco sat there completely still for a few moments, captivated by Hermione and her words, then he pushed her back into the pillow and continued kissing her, even more aggressively than before. The next minute, he was inside her, abandoning his previous decision to take things slow. He could draw out the next round but he needed her now.

They fit together perfectly, which wasn't surprising to Draco, just more proof that out of all the witches in the world, this one was meant for him. Hermione was his. Maybe not forever, but right now, she was his and no one else's. She knew about his past and still loved him. She knew his flaws and still loved him. Even though he'd only known her a short while, she knew him better than anyone, and still wanted him. He couldn't get enough of that feeling.

Draco moved to kissing her neck as he continued to thrust into her. Hermione wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels in his back as she moved her hips in time with his. Fuck, she felt so good.

All the times he'd imagined sex with Hermione, they'd been in an exciting position: Standing against a bookshelf at the Ministry Archives or in front of the mirror of her dresser as she watched him ram into her from behind. In the shower or bent over the kitchen counter. He'd never imagined them having normal sex in a bed, but this was all he needed.

Draco reached out for her hand and linked their fingers together, then moved his other hand down to stroke between her legs. He watched her moan, and bite her lip, and push her head back into the pillow as she got closer. Yes, this was all he needed, to be close to her. To share this moment with someone he loved. Fuck. Now, he was a sap. A pathetic, cowardly, confused as fuck sap, who was about to either die or kill his father.

Hermione let out another low, delicious sounding moan, drawing Draco's attention back to her. He buried his face in her neck again as he quickened his thrusts, trying to fill his thoughts with her to chase the darkness away.

He focused on the feeling of her soft curls, how wonderful she smelled, the sound she made when she was moaning or better yet, saying his name. How tight and wet she was around his cock, how soft her skin felt against his chest. She was beautiful, and perfect, and his. All his. At least for now.

Later that night, Draco was lying on Hermione's torso, listening to her steady heart beat and the rise and fall of her chest as she dozed underneath him. He was thinking how strange it was that he could know her so well, yet not at all.

He didn't know her favorite color or how to make her tea just right. He didn't know which sweets she liked best or her favorite book. He didn't know what sort of childhood she'd had growing up or how her accidental magic had first manifested - though if he had to guess, it probably involved retrieving a book from a high shelf.

Draco didn't know what kept her up at night, or her deepest desires. But he did know the difference between the furrowed brow that signaled she was thinking hard and the furrowed brow that meant she was angry. He knew all of her smiles and prided himself on being able to create them out of nowhere, even when she was feeling down.

He knew that when Hermione was stressed, the easiest way to help her feel better was to make a plan, then stick to it, because having a sense of control over her surroundings calmed her. He knew when she was cross with him, he could instantly put her in a better mood by picking up and reading a Muggle book.

He knew she had atrocious handwriting, especially when inspiration really struck, because her hand couldn't keep up with her impossibly fast brain, but that if he made sure she always had a sharp quill, her writing was almost legible.

But more than all that, Draco knew this - he thought as he counted her heartbeats. He knew her heart which was beautiful, pure, and incredibly strong. No matter what choice he made, his time with her was going to cut short and he'd never learn all of her, but maybe knowing this was enough.

After several minutes, Draco felt the pattern of her breathing change and Hermione began running her fingers through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep," she murmured. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist. Having his scalp massaged like this felt divine. Holding her like this felt divine. Just being here with her was divine. Draco sighed. Damn, she was perfect.

"You don't have to apologize," he mumbled against her stomach. "It was all that sex that wore you out. Understandable." He was tired too, but was determined to stay awake as long as possible, not wanting to miss a minute with her.

Hermione pinched his cheek. "Yeah, yeah. No need to sound so smug."

Draco grinned and turned his head so he was looking up at her. "What's your favorite color?"

Hermione shifted, putting a second pillow behind her head, then began stroking his hair again before replying. "Gold."

"Gryffindor."

She just smiled. "What's your favorite color? Green?"

"Nah. There was too much green around me growing up. I actually like blue the best. But not blue blue, dark blue, like navy."

She smirked. "So, something really close to black."

"Exactly."

"That's a weird favorite color."

"As is gold."

"True."

They were quiet again. Draco rested his chin on his hands as she continued to play with his hair. After a while she said, "It's not fair."

It was as if she'd plucked the words right out of Draco's head. "I know," he said softly.

"I thought it was all over," she continued. "After the war I thought, maybe now I get some peace. But it wasn't like that. In many ways the aftermath was just as hard. Everything felt off and I was so lost." She moved her hand down and grazed his cheek with her knuckles.

"Then you came into my life and caught me completely off guard. And I let myself hope. It was naïve. Things between us were so easy so I fooled myself into thinking that meant life was going to be easy from here on out. I forgot for a bit that the world has never been easy for me, or fair. I knew better than to get my hopes up but I did it anyway."

Draco's heart broke for her. If anyone deserved a happy ending, it was Hermione. He shifted off of her stomach and laid on the bed next to her. They turned on their sides to face each other and Draco draped an arm over her waist. "I'm so sorry, Hermione," he whispered. "I think maybe this is my punishment for what I did in the war. Or rather, didn't do. I've been given a taste of unbelievable happiness, just to have it yanked away."

Draco pulled Hermione closer and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "But you didn't deserve to be caught up in this. That's why we can't let this play out. If it does, you end up a widow in unbelievable pain. I don't want you to have to go through that. That's why I don't want to listen to your future self."

Hermione nodded, then buried her head in his chest. Draco pulled her closer and felt warm tears on his skin. He sighed and rubbed her back as she cried. He could feel his Occlumency walls begin to crumble. He was exhausted and he was certain the decision was made. He had to end this now, for Hermione, but he put as much magic as he could into keeping the walls in his mind intact. Just a little longer.

"I agree," Hermione said after several moments.

"Hmm?"

Hermione leaned back and Draco saw she'd stopped crying, but her eyes were still wet. "I agree," she repeated. "It's clear the message future Hermione was trying to send, and I get it, she's incredibly attached to you - or him, I guess. And if I was with you for three more years, I can see myself getting there. But we're not there, now. We love each other, but we're not dependent on the other. We have the benefit of perspective."

"What are you saying?"

Hermione let out a long sigh. "I take back what I said a few minutes ago about the world being cold and bleak and there being no hope."

"Changing your mind already?" he teased.

"I know. My mind is jumping all over the place."

He reached up and pushed a curl behind her ear. "Mine, too."

Hermione leaned forward and kissed his cheek, then settled back on her pillow. "Okay, as I was saying, the universe isn't cruel, it's just stupid."

Draco let out a laugh. "Okay…"

"We can do this, Draco. We can find our way back to each other."

"What do you mean? In another time?"

She nodded and had a determined gleam in her eyes again. "I was thinking about what you said before, about how I was the one you were looking for. That's exactly what it felt like. Like I was lost, looking for something without even realizing it. And when I found it - found you - it felt eerily right. I think maybe we've been through this before, in another time."

"What?"

Hermione grabbed both of his hands. She was speaking quickly now. "Draco, listen. Sometimes things have felt weirdly familiar, like déjà vu. Maybe we've done this before, in multiple iterations. Started as strangers, enemies, almost, then fought our way back to each other. Our world is small and we're so well suited for each other, it's not impossible to imagine this happening again, in another way."

Draco wanted to believe her, but then he remembered how terrible he'd been to her in the beginning. Yes, he'd felt the waves of familiarity and yes, he'd been attracted to her almost immediately, but he'd fought those feelings so hard. He couldn't see how he could have possibly made it past his initial aversion to her without the time jumps forcing him to face his feelings.

"I don't know," he said noncommittally.

"Well, I do. You need to trust this. You need to give us more credit. And more than anything, you need to stay alive. I told you this was your decision, and it still is. I'll go along with whatever you decide. But my vote is for you to go to your father and take that potion."

Draco dropped her gaze. His walls were wavering again and soon, his mind was going to force him to make this decision. But he wasn't ready. He needed more time with her. "I think you're forgetting how much you hated me," he said, looking down at their clasped hands.

"There's a fine line between hate and love. Just, try to apologize early and if you have to be a prat, do it on surface level stuff, nothing that will cut deep."

"Hermione, I'm losing control of my Occlumency," Draco said urgently, his voice shaking. "Plus, all these instructions, I'm not going to remember any of this."

"You will. Deep in your heart, somewhere, you will. And you'll find me and we'll fight at first, probably a lot, but then we'll realize how much we love each other and we'll get another shot at this. One that doesn't end in your untimely death."

Draco was crying now. He could feel his control slipping. "How are you so sure, Hermione?"

"Because we're supposed to be together. That's how this ends. You and I get a happy ending, if not now, then somewhere else. That has to be true."

"Do you promise?" he asked, his voice small and pleading.

"I promise," she said insistently, squeezing his hands.

Draco's head was pounding now. He was trying to gather as much strength from her intense gaze as he could, but he was completely spent. He only had another minute, maybe less, and he knew exactly what he wanted his last words to be, in case this was the end. "I love you."

She gave him a breathtaking smile. "I love you too. Find me, Draco, and I promise to fall in love with you all over again."

She leaned in, on her way to give him a final kiss when the walls in his mind finally came crashing down. Draco was forced to consider the question of what he'd do next. Go to Theo and ask him to Obliviate Hermione and him or go to his father and take the Extraction Potion?

The answer solidified in his brain just before Hermione's lips reached his and as soon as it did, everything went black.

Note from the Narrator:

In that moment, Draco decided to take the Extraction Potion and stop the time jumping. As soon as that decision was made, the timeline he and Hermione were living on broke, as there was no way for them to get from the present they were currently in to the future Draco had jumped to numerous times.

They could no longer exist as a couple (and hadn't even had a chance to finish their last kiss), but their souls were determined to be together. They soared through the space-time continuum, settling in a new timeline, one where Draco ended his time jumping before 2006 and never worked with Harry to travel to the past and save his father.

Draco and Hermione were strangers again but there was a longing, deep in their hearts. Their souls remembered what they'd lost, even though their minds had forgotten. They yearned to find each other, to be reunited, and neither would be at peace until they were together again.

Present Time: January 2000 / Draco's Time: Same as present

The storm was picking up outside, shaking the window, but Draco hardly noticed. He was studying the time turner in his hand, absently turning it as he thought back on the past few years. He barely noticed the storm outside, completely mesmerized by the object in his hand.

He'd just counted back to his Third Year and decided that that had been one of his best years, by far. He'd been popular and confident and the Dark Lord had still been in hiding somewhere. His father hadn't been a nervous wreck and-

Draco's thoughts cut off as he remembered his father. He looked over to find Lucius watching him with a curious expression on his face. When he saw Draco looking at him Lucius asked, with a hint of amusement, "Considering time travel?"

Draco shook his head, but still asked, "Which way is backward?"

His father squinted to get a better look at the object, then started to say, "The other-"

Before he could finish his statement, many things happened at once. The wind finally burst through the window and several dark artifacts on Draco's desk were blown to the ground. As soon as they hit the wooden floor a large, black hole filled with stars appeared and Draco felt a pressure like all the air was being sucked out of the room.

Every piece of glass in the parlor shattered, including the time turner in Draco's hand. The shards of the time turner seemed to burrow into his palm and he winced at the pain as a nasty cut appeared there. He dropped the time turner instinctively then flung himself to the ground, narrowly avoiding a large shard of glass that was swirling around the room toward the hole.

He looked over at his father who was also on the ground, grasping behind him for his wand, which was just out of reach. Draco began to call to him but before he could get a sound out - he blinked out of sight.

Present Time: March 2006 / Draco's Time: January 2000

Draco reappeared in the parlor a few seconds later, but everything was different. He jumped to his feet and raised his wand as he took in his surroundings. It was eerily quiet, the storm from earlier gone. Draco walked to the window and peered outside. The view was the same as always, but it was nighttime. It had been midday just a moment ago. How was that possible? And where was all the furniture?

Draco turned around and cast a few floating lights around the room. He confirmed that every object in the room, every piece of furniture, decoration, and portrait, was gone. And his father, where was he? Had they all been sucked into that black hole, leaving Draco behind?

Draco heard footsteps approaching the room and vanished the floating lights. His eyes darted around the room, but with all the furniture gone, there was nowhere to hide. He cast a silent Disillusionment Charm on himself and pressed his body against one of the far walls.

Whoever was approaching reached the door and knocked softly. Draco stayed quiet, unsure if the person on the other side of that door was a friend or foe. Probably foe, Draco had very few friends. He took a deep breath and hoped the person would move on, but they didn't. Of course they didn't, Draco was never lucky like that.

He watched the doorknob turn and tightened his grip on his wand. The person stepped in and turned left, looking right where Draco was standing as if he wasn't hidden at all, and disarmed him in a second, catching his wand easily out of the air.

Draco stood frozen in place. How had they found him so quickly in the dark? They hadn't even cast a Revealing Spell. Draco squinted, trying to make the person out, but they were cloaked in shadows. All he could tell was that it was a tall, slim man. Draco heard the man sigh, then he raised his wand and the lights Draco had vanished before reappeared. Then he felt the man remove the Disillusionment Spell he'd cast.

Draco's mouth dropped open as he stared at the nearest floating sphere of light. This wasn't a common spell. He'd actually never seen another wizard use it before. He'd discovered it in an old book in the Hogwarts Library in Second Year and instantly fell in love with it, since it cast a soft, pleasant light instead of the focused, harsh light of the Lumos spell everyone typically used.

When he looked back at his attacker, his heart stopped in his chest. "What the fuck…?"

"Hi, Draco."

It was him. Or, well, someone who looked remarkably like him. Draco shook his head and stepped backward, toward the window.

"I know this is alarming," the man continued in his voice. Draco's mind was racing, trying to piece together how this fit with what had happened in the other parlor with his father. Was this some trick of one of the Dark Artifacts? They'd all crashed to the floor at once, who knew what sort of Dark Magic they contained? And if any of their magic melded together, well, that would be a disaster.

"You don't have to be scared," the man continued, slowly approaching Draco.

"If you don't want to scare me, turn back into your true form," Draco countered, then wondered if that other form would be scarier. Maybe he was some awful creature or a Dark Wizard. Maybe it was the Dark Lord, somehow returned from the dead. Draco shuddered.

"I'm not a Dark creature or the Dark Lord. I believe he's gone for good."

Fuck. This man, whoever he was, was a Leglimens. But how had he done that from so far away? Even the Dark Lord had needed to be looking into his victim's eyes before he read their thoughts.

Draco had reached the window now and could back away no further. He pressed his back against the cold glass and waited for his attacker to make his next move.

The imposter Draco stepped closer to him, holding both wands in his hand. Draco focused on the wands, so he'd see the next attack as soon as it happened, and that's when he noticed something that confused him. "You impersonated my wand, too?" That seemed excessive.

The other Draco looked down at the wands in his hand and smiled slightly. "No." He sighed, then looked back at Draco, the look in his grey eyes pitying. "I'm you, six years in the future."

"Yeah, right. I'm not an idiot."

The other Draco let out a snort. "I know it's insane, but I can prove it to you. Here." He held out both wands so Draco could see them clearly, then took the left one and cast a diagnostic charm on the other wand, floating the results of the charm over to Draco so he could read them: Hawthorn, 10", unicorn core, slightly flexible.

The imposter Draco then took the other wand and performed the same spell on the first wand. The results were the same.

Draco crossed his arms. "Clever, but you could have achieved that with sleight of hand."

"Okay. Ask a question, then. One only you would know."

"You've already proven you're a Legimens. You pulled a thought out of my mind earlier."

"Or I just remembered it."

Draco scoffed.

"If you're so smart, you'll be able to think of a question that couldn't be found in your mind with Legilimency."

Draco scowled at the man, then sighed and began to think. He was right. Legilimency could be used to find memories and simple thoughts from the top of your mind, but it couldn't be used to find complicated emotions. The ones that lived more in the heart, than the head. Especially if the emotion wasn't tied directly to any memories.

Draco was thinking of a question when the man cut in, "Before you ask your question, can we leave? This room-" he cut off and Draco saw a haunted look in his eyes that hit him at his core. He pulled his hand up to his heart, instinctively, wondering what had happened to make this man look so sad all of a sudden. Stop. It's not you, just an imposter. Who cares if he's sad?

"I don't like it," the other man finished. He turned to the door, stopping once he reached the hall.

Draco sighed and followed the man, knowing he had no choice but to do what he said. He followed the other Draco to a small sitting room, two rooms down. This sitting room was different than it had been in his time. Don't do that! This isn't the future. This man is lying.

Well, no matter what this place was, it was different. All the furniture had been replaced, as had the curtains and art on the wall. "Where are my parents?" Draco asked the man, suddenly fearing for their safety. The entire house was too quiet. His father may have been sucked into the black hole, but his Mother had been out at the time. So, maybe she'd avoided the disaster. He hoped she was safe. He hoped they were both safe.

"We'll get to that," the man said as he lowered himself into the chair closest to the fire. "Go on, ask your question."

Draco sat on the loveseat opposite the man, then studied his eyes as he asked, "What am I most afraid of?"

He expected this Draco to falter, but he seemed to be expecting the question. His lips turned up slightly as he said, "I doubt even you know the true answer to that question, but I'll answer it. I have the benefit of hindsight, after all."

Draco rolled his eyes, then focused on the fireplace, not wanting to give this man, who was obviously a talented Legilimens, any advantages.

"Okay, I guess we'll start with the surface level stuff. As a kid we were terrified of the peacocks around the estate. Then when we were old enough to know how lame it was to fear useless birds with no magic, especially in a house like this, with so many real dangers to fear, we started being scared of the magical creatures in that book we found in the Manor Library when we were about eight. The one with werewolves, banshees, and vampires.

"Once we met Greyback the summer after Second Year, the fear in werewolves was solidified, which, in all honesty, was a healthy fear. Our boggart was a werewolf in Lupin's class in Third Year and to make it funny for the Riddikulus Spell, we removed it's hair and fangs, making it look like an over-large baby."

The imposter Draco paused and Draco gave him a look that made it clear he wasn't impressed. In reality, he was impressed. Even though all these thoughts could have been taken from Draco's memories, Draco had never encountered a Legilimens this skilled in finding information, especially without Draco's notice. He'd been focusing on his mind the entire time and hadn't felt any intrusions. "Go on," he said in a bored tone.

The other Draco muttered, "Prick," before continuing with his answer. "Our boggart changed once the Dark Lord took over and moved in. We found one in an abandoned room in the East Wing the summer after Sixth Year and it looked just like the Dark Lord. We figured out it was a boggart pretty quickly, but were too rattled to use the Riddikulus Spell. Mother got rid of it. And now…"

The other man's voice trailed off. When Draco looked back at him, he saw him looking down at his hands, playing with a simple silver band on his left hand. Draco glowered at it once he recognized it as a wedding ring. Damn, this was so fucked up. When the man looked back up at Draco, his expression was sad and almost apologetic.

He sighed before continuing to speak. "What you fear now, Draco, is loneliness. You see the people around you connecting with each other (Daphne and Astoria, Potter and his bevy of admirers, even Blaise and Theo), and you don't understand it.

"You wonder if there's something broken in you, something that makes you unloveable. Or maybe it's the other way around. Maybe, it's you who can't love properly. You love Mother and Father, of course, but true friendship and romantic love, the kind you've seen described in books and poetry, what they sing songs about, that's never made sense.

"But you know it's real. Look at our parents, they love each other like that, but maybe you're not capable of it."

Draco felt sick and dropped the other man's gaze. He was wrong, of course. This was just proof that this man was an imposter and Draco should feel triumphant, since he'd proved him wrong, but he just felt like shit.

"You are capable of that sort of love, Draco," the man continued, his voice insistent. "One day, you will love someone so much it hurts, and she'll love you back. Not because you hide the bad parts of yourself and not because you tricked her (though you will try those things). She'll know the dark parts of you and love you anyway. You're not going to be lonely forever."

Draco's eyes were wet, which was fucking embarassing, so he turned away from this imposter and focused on the window. Maybe this was just part of this creature's magic, being able to incite deep emotions in other people. He took a deep breath, then said in a shaky voice, "That wasn't correct."

"I know," he replied simply. "You think your greatest fear is not being enough. Not being able to become the man Father thinks you can be and being a disgrace to the Malfoy legacy. And yes - that's a fear of yours - but not your deepest one."

Draco stood up and went to the window he's been looking out of. He placed his hands on the cold glass and dropped his head. Fuck, this all felt so real. But it couldn't be. Could this really be the future? He had been playing with a time turner. He looked down at the hand that had been cut. It was crusted over with blood and still throbbing slightly with pain.

The other Draco, the one who knew him eerily well, was just behind him. Draco could see his reflection in the glass. He was holding one of the wands out for him. "Go ahead. Check the date."

Draco sighed, then took the wand and cast a spell to check the date. March 13, 2006.

He tried it again and wasn't surprised when the results came back the same. Just when he was beginning to finally believe in this insane time travel theory, another idea popped into his head. Perhaps this was all happening in his mind.

It would explain how this Draco knew him so well, the magic with the wands from earlier, and this spell here. And why he'd made up that story about finding an incredible wife. It was all just something he'd imagined. Dark Artifacts could do that, drive you a bit mad. He'd heard of wizards jumping to their death while their minds were elsewhere, thinking they were flying on a broom or something.

He was about to share this theory with the other Draco, hoping that saying the words out loud would somehow break the spell, but before he could say anything, the other man put a hand on his arm and said gently, "You don't have to tell me, I know the theory that popped into your head. It's clever, but wrong."

Draco scoffed and pulled his arm away. Well, the theory still fit, even with that response.

"I know you don't believe me, but it doesn't matter, you will. For now, I need to tell you a few things, okay?"

Draco sneered and pulled his wand back, out of the other Draco's reach. "Fine."

"Please don't hex me while I'm talking."

"No promises."

The other Draco shrugged. "Whatever, I know you won't do it."

He went on to explain how the time travel worked. How it had begun when the time turner broke in his hand and several pieces of the object entered his bloodstream. He explained how Draco would return to his time after every jump as long as there was another piece of the time turner there to anchor him, which was why it was imperative for him to find and secure the remaining pieces of the time turner when he jumped back to the past before someone else disposed of them.

"That's probably all I should tell you for now," he finished. "You need to figure the rest out, specifically how to stop the time jumping, on your own."

"Just tell me how to stop it now," Draco countered, eager to never have to meet this annoying version of himself (if that's really what he was) ever again.

The other man snorted. "Believe me, I want to. It would have saved me hours upon hours of research, but my wife - she says if I try to take shortcuts like that, I'll break the timeline."

"What?"

"If I tell you the answer to everything, you'll never go do all that research and then there would be no way for me to know the answer in the first place. It'll be a paradox and my wife fears it will break this timeline, sending us all into an alternate universe and we, uh -" He hesitated and for the first time that night, he didn't seem completely sure of himself. "We don't want that," he finished lamely.

Draco was about to press him, then reminded himself this whole thing was preposterous and was just some delusion his mind had created.

"Anyway," the other man continued, "write all your time jumps down, specifically the dates and times when you arrive in the future and how long they last, that way I know to be here for you. Next time you come to the future, you'll finally believe this story and I'll give you the dates and times of the jumps on your side, so you know when to expect them."

He paused and seemed to be waiting for Draco to acknowledge his instructions. Draco didn't want to dignify this man's crazy ramblings with so much as a nod, so he stayed completely still. The man sighed. "Apparate to this room in your time when you feel the jump coming and I'll be here to meet you in the future. Actually, one of those times Mother will meet you, but I'll meet you for the rest of them."

"Mother? Where is she? You told me you'd tell me about her earlier." It doesn't matter, this isn't real. Mother is back in reality and she's just fine. He tried to believe the logical argument, but it didn't stave off the fear rising in his chest. Something was wrong, he could feel it, he just had no idea what it was or if he'd be able to fix it.

"She's fine. She's in France and took most of the elves with her, which is why it's so quiet here. I need to tell you something. But - uh - I guess I should give you this first." He was holding out a letter that had Draco's name scribbled across the front.

"What's that?" Draco asked, refusing to touch the letter.

"Take it and I'll tell you," he said, shaking the envelope.

Wanker.

The imposter Draco smirked. "If this is all happening in your head, then what's the harm in taking this letter?"

"It's typically the magic you can't comprehend that's the most dangerous," he replied, quoting his father.

The other Draco's response was immediate and unexpected. He hitched his breath, then pressed his fingers into his eyes as he dipped his head. Draco watched the man curiously as he took deep, deliberate breaths. Draco could hear him whispering to himself. "...sounded just like him...fuck."

He moved his fingers to the bridge of his nose and Draco could see a few tears shining on his bottom lashes. Dracp winced, in spite of himself. Even though this person wasn't real, it was alarming seeing himself in such obvious pain. "Fuck," the man swore again, then looked back at Draco. "I remembered nearly falling apart, but not why," he said in a low voice.

"Nearly falling apart?" Draco replied sardonically.

The other man rolled his eyes. "Fucking prick." He tossed the letter at Draco and Draco caught it instinctively.

The other version of Draco smiled smugly. "Well, you didn't burst into flames."

"Just tell me what this is and why it's so fucking important," Draco snapped.

The man seemed unphased by Draco's irritation and replied in a calm voice, "I wrote that. I'm the latest Draco you'll ever meet and at some point you're going to struggle to make a very important decision. When that happens, read that. It's spelled to open no earlier than Father's 49th birthday."

Draco looked down at the envelope in his hand. He could feel the magic on it. He smirked inwardly as he considered the magic required to cast a spell like that. He'd caught this man in a lie. "That's not possible," he said flatly. "If this really was the future, a sealing Charm tied to that particular date wouldn't work, since Father's 49th birthday has already passed."

"My wife spelled that closed," the man said proudly. "She trapped the time lock spell in a delayed release spell, so it won't fire for another few hours, when you're back in the past."

"What?" Draco looked back at the note. He didn't know that sort of thing was possible. He studied his name again, which was in an unfamiliar scrawl. Was this his so-called wife's handwriting? If so, she had terrible penmanship. "I didn't know you could do that," he admitted in an undertone. "But if that's true, then I can break the spell before it fires."

The other man just shrugged. "You can try, and you will, but my wife's spellwork is impeccable."

Draco didn't believe this woman existed, but he couldn't help but be a little intrigued. "So she's smarter than you?"

"Yes."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"No."

Hmm. So, in this imaginary world, his wife wasn't Astoria, or any other witch he'd ever met. Whatever, it wasn't real.

"Is she fit?" Draco asked, trying to get a rise out of the man, but he just laughed.

"Yes, she's very beautiful and for the record, she'd be exceedingly irritated if she knew that's the first thing you wondered about her."

"I thought you said she'd love me despite my flaws," Draco argued.

"She wouldn't be surprised, just annoyed."

They fell into an awkward silence. Draco didn't want to hear anything else about this stupid, made up wife. He sort of wanted to try to break the spell on the letter, but didn't want to fail in front of this tosser and have to endure one of his smug looks. So he just stood there in silence and waited for the man to grow bored of him and leave him alone so he could figure out how to get back to reality.

The other Draco was watching the clock, his eyes sad. His jaw was tense and Draco could see him biting the inside of his cheek, which was the thing he did when he was nervous. He hadn't just impersonated Draco's looks, but his mannerisms. This was just further proof that this was all happening in Draco's head. He put the letter he was still holding in an inside pocket of his robes and wondered if it would still be there when he woke up.

Just then, the man turned to face Draco and squeezed his eyes shut before saying, "I need to tell you something. We don't have much longer before you go back to your time and it's better if you hear this from me."

Draco just shrugged, trying to hide how nervous he was. Whatever this man was about to say was affecting him, Draco could see the signs of Occlumency now as the man's grey eyes went completely blank.

"The time you came from in the parlor, with the explosion and the black hole," the man started, his voice devoid of emotion.

Draco nodded.

"You time jumped away from a very dangerous situation." He paused to give Draco a knowing look.

"Just say what you need to say," Draco pressed.

The man sighed, then started speaking in a rush. "When you jump back in about fifteen minutes, the house will be swarming with Aurors trying to contain the damage from the artifacts. Mother will have just arrived and Father-" the imposter Draco's voice broke and he looked away from Draco, out the window behind him.

"What happens to Father?" Draco asked, completely caught up in the tale now.

"He'll be at St. Mungo's." The other Draco's eyes, which were lined with tears now, flashed back to meet Draco's. "He's going to die, Draco."

Draco scowled at the man. "Nice fucking try. And the act, with the tears, that was a good touch. But I know this isn't real and I know-"

Draco was interrupted by the unexpected feeling of Apparition. The other Draco had grabbed his arm and Disapparated them away. It was somewhere close, because they reappeared less than a second later.

The room was completely dark but once the other Draco cast floating lights around them, Draco recognized his father's study. His first thought was that it smelled wrong. It usually smelled like a mix of his father and fresh parchment, but now it just smelled like dust. He shook the thought from his mind. This was just part of the illusion.

"What the fuck was that?" Draco spat at the other man. "Why did you bring me here?"

The man sighed and motioned behind Draco. Draco froze. He knew what he'd find on the wall behind him. This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real, he chanted in his head, bracing himself for the illusion he was about to , when he turned around and saw three hands on the family clock, he let out a sigh of relief. But it was wrong. Something was off.

Draco stepped closer to the clock. There was his mother at the Travelling position. Then himself at Malfoy Manor. And the final hand, with the name blurred, was at a new position he'd never seen before, London House.

This hand wasn't his father's, it was thin and dainty, like his mother's, so it probably belonged to a witch. He rolled his eyes when he put it together. This was the so-called wife's hand. But where was…

Draco spotted it, resting on the surface of the table below the clock. He stepped forward and picked up the hand that used to belong to his father. Right then, as he read the name on the hand, Lucius Malfoy, he knew this was real.

He didn't understand the magic behind it all, maybe it was time travel, or maybe he was going mad, but the fact that his father was gone, the proof of which he was currently holding in his hand, that was a truth he could feel deep inside him, reverberating through him like thunder.

Draco felt a firm hand on his shoulder, but kept his head focused on his father's clock hand.

"Things are going to be really bad for a little while," the other Draco began in a hoarse voice. "Just thinking about it now, fuck, it's like I'm right back there. But it gets better. The tunnel is dark and seems endless at times, but keep walking and I promise you'll make it through."

Draco looked back at the man and for the first time that night, he felt truly scared. The man was crying and making no move to hide it this time. "Don't close yourself off," he continued. "You'll want to, you'll convince yourself no one understands, that you're special, or even that you deserve your pain isolation, but it's not true. Loneliness is a choice, Draco, one you've been making for years. But at any time, you can change your mind."

Draco dropped the man's gaze and focused on his hand, which was still on Draco's shoulder. He saw the wedding band again and remembered his father's ring. It should be on this Draco's other hand, but Draco could see that the man's right hand was empty. "You're not wearing it," he said softly.

"What?"

"Father's ring. If he really was dead, you'd be head of the Estate and you have to wear the ring for the magic to work."

"Oh. Yeah." The other Draco reached into his shirt and pulled out a chain that held his father's ring. "I couldn't wear it," he admitted, sounding slightly embarrassed. "It's his, you know? It will always feel like his, even though it's been mine for years."

Draco's chest clenched and he looked back at the object in his hand. This was a trick, wasn't it? Some Dark Artifact must have hit him in that parlor and now he was being forced to live out his worst fear. He was stuck in this strange place with an oddly emotional version of himself. A place where Mother was gone and Father was dead.

But even as he thought this, Draco knew it was wrong. Everything fit, the time turner he'd been holding, the chaos back in the parlor he was currently missing, this Draco's intimate knowledge of him and anguish as he spoke of their father. Father was gone, and Draco hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye.

Draco closed his eyes, then felt a warm tear run down his face and fall onto the clock hand in his open palm.

A/N: Thanks to my beta, Lancashire Witch, for joining me for another story!