Chapter 5
Do you know that feeling? When it's like you've lost something but can't remember what it was. It's as though you're trying so desperately to think of a word but it won't come to you. You've said it a thousand times before and it was always there - right where you left it. But now you can't recall it. You try and try to make it appear and it almost does, but it never does.
I don't know what it is or what I have lost. But I know it was important, I know it once made me happy.
-Lang Leav
Present Time: April 2000 / Draco's Time: Same as present
Draco was currently dancing with Daphne at the Ministry Gala. He was glad he'd patched things up with her. His future self had been right, she was going through a personal crisis right now and needed a friend. She'd recently realized she was in love with Blaise, who she'd had an on and off again relationship with since Hogwarts. Daphne was also deluding herself into thinking Blaise might feel the same way toward her but was just unsure how to express it.
Draco told her Blaise wasn't capable of loving someone besides himself, but Daphne insisted there was more depth to Blaise than everyone thought. The whole thing was just a big reminder to Draco how debilitating love could be and he wasn't sure if he wanted to go through that himself. Look what it had done to Daphne, turning an otherwise impressive, confident witch into a silly girl.
When Draco looked back at Daphne, she was eyeing him with that searching gaze of hers. She was probably thinking he looked tired and he hoped she wouldn't ask him about it. He'd had a dreadful nightmare the previous night and had been unable to fall asleep afterward. This is what happened when he tried to sleep without Potions. He still drank Fire Whiskey to calm his mind just before bed, but it didn't keep the bad dreams away.
Draco knew even that dependence made him weak, and his father would be disappointed if he saw him, but he couldn't quit everything at once. Draco wasn't that strong, no matter what his mother thought. He needed the gradual decline, starting first with cutting out Dark Magic, then the Potions a week ago.
The alcohol, well, it would be a while until he was ready to cut that completely, but at least he only drank at night. But even now, his resolve was wavering as he considered a Dreamless Sleep Potion. Just one dose, just for tonight, so he could catch up on sleep. Then, he'd stay clean for the next week.
"You look dashing," Daphne announced, drawing Draco's attention back to her. That wasn't what he thought she was going to say.
"Yeah?" Draco smiled and pushed her out into a twirl.
"Yeah. I'm reconsidering your marriage proposal."
"Oh, I've rescinded that. I've just recently made it past the pain of your rejection. If you want to marry me, you're going to have to propose next."
Daphne sneered. "I know that's a new thing among witches our age, but I would never propose. It seems so desperate." Draco cocked an eyebrow at her and she gave him a deadly glare. "Not. A. Word."
Draco just let out a laugh and she rolled her eyes. Her gaze stopped on a spot behind him and Draco turned them to see what had caught her eye. He spotted Blaise at the end of the ballroom, leaning against a pole with a drink in his hand. He lifted the drink to Draco when their eyes met. "Speak of the devil…" Draco muttered under his breath.
"Yeah," Daphne replied. "'The devil' keeps motioning for me to come over there, then cocking his head toward the hall."
"What happened to his date?"
"I don't know. And I really shouldn't go over there."
"No, you shouldn't," Draco agreed.
"But my resolve is wavering the longer he stands there staring at me," she admitted.
Draco turned them so he was the one facing Blaise again. "At least make him come over here and ask for a quick shag."
"I'm not going to shag him," she countered, clearly affronted.
"Really? But it's Blaise. What else are you going to do in the hall if not - you know what? I don't want to know."
A few minutes later, once Blaise had finished his drink, he walked over to them and tapped Draco on the shoulder. "May I cut in?"
"Where's your date?" Draco asked, pulling Daphne closer.
"No idea."
"You can wait until this song is over," Draco said before Daphne got a chance to respond.
Blaise crossed his arms. "I thought you two were just friends. What is this?"
"It's nothing," Daphne chimed in. "I mean, there was a marriage proposal, but it was promptly rejected."
Blaise narrowed his eyes at them. "Are you really going to make me wait until the end of this song?"
"Yes," Draco said quickly, then pulled Daphne across the dance floor.
"That was a bit much," Daphne scolded.
"Pathetic," he scoffed.
"Arrogant," she retorted.
"Desperate."
"Cowardly."
"Obsessive."
"Alcoholic."
"Hey! Low blow."
"Yeah, I know. Sorry. Is that still a thing? Do you still need it to sleep?"
"Yes. But I don't want to talk about it right now," Draco grumbled.
"I didn't mean-"
"I know, Daphne. For the record, I did mean all of mine."
She swatted his arm and he just smirked back at her. They passed the rest of the dance without talking, each lost in their own thoughts. When the song ended, Draco passed Daphne off to Blaise and returned to his table where Theo was sitting, glaring at the dancers.
They sat in a comfortable silence for several moments, then Theo turned to Draco and said in a low voice, "I think your date is about to shag another bloke." Theo was tilting his head toward the side of the room, where Blaise was leading Daphne into the hall.
Draco sighed. Oh, Daphne. "She told me she wasn't going to shag him."
Theo snorted. "Yeah, right."
Draco was with Theo on this one but stayed quiet. Another silence settled between them as the next song started up. Draco sighed and leaned back in his chair while Theo went back to scowling at the dancers.
Do it now, a voice said in Draco's mind. Thank him for coming to Father's funeral, then apologize for being rude. Draco had been trying to work up the nerve to do this for weeks but kept making excuses. Now was the perfect time to get it over with. They were alone and Theo had a few drinks in him, so he should be pretty mellow, but all Draco could bring himself to say was, "Have you ever been in love?"
Really? 'Have you ever been in love?' Fucking coward.
"No," Theo said quickly, keeping his eyes on the dance floor. "You?"
"No."
Theo just hummed in response. After a few more minutes, he looked at his watch and let out a sigh of relief. "Perfect. I made it to ten. That's plenty of time for the public to see that the Notts support the Ministry. I'm out. Are you staying?"
"Yeah," Draco sighed. He couldn't leave tonight until he found Potter. He'd spotted him a few times while he'd been dancing with Daphne, but lost sight of him after he'd taken a seat at the table.
"Okay, see you later," Theo said with a nod, then nearly ran for the exit. Draco scanned the ballroom one more time but didn't see the hordes of fans that usually followed Potter. Had he already left? Surely, only lame wizards like Theo left this early. Draco rose to his feet and began searching the halls outside the ballroom for Wonder Boy.
He found a few snogging couples (thankfully none of them were Blaise and Daphne) and was beginning to lose hope of finding Potter when he spotted him in a dark corridor at the very end of the hall. He was leaning with his back against the wall, staring blankly ahead, clearly upset about something. Draco nearly left him alone, but if he didn't talk to Potter now, he'd have to go to his house again, or worse, his office.
Draco took a breath and went to join Potter in the corridor, leaning on the wall next to him. Potter must have seen Draco from the corner of his eye but didn't acknowledge his arrival and just kept staring blankly ahead.
"Potter," Draco said after a time.
Potter nodded, then turned his head toward Draco. "I heard you broke up with your girlfriend."
Draco tried to hide his surprise and keep an impassive look on his face. "Heard or read?" he asked, remembering Daphne telling him earlier that there had been an article about his and Astoria's breakup in Witch Weekly.
"I heard it from someone who read about it," Potter replied flatly.
"Okay...what is this?"
"Small talk," he said with a sigh, looking at the wall again.
"I don't like it," Draco sneered.
Potter looked back at him again. "Why?"
"Because it's stupid and it doesn't-"
"Not why you don't like small talk," he cut in. "Why did you break up?"
"Why do you want to know?" Draco asked, taking a step back.
Potter shrugged. "I'm curious about why people break up."
Draco considered leaving, but there was a desperate look in Potter's eyes that kept him in place. He sighed and leaned back on the wall again. "I couldn't bring myself to confide in her about - you know - how I was feeling and such. And I thought, if I couldn't do that, then I shouldn't marry her. And if I have no plans to marry her, I should stop wasting her time."
"Hmm." When Potter didn't say anything else, Draco turned his head and found the other wizard lost in thought. Fucking hell. He just needed to say his piece and get out of here.
"I didn't come here to tell you about Astoria," he began, his tone sharp.
"I know. Just tell me whatever it is you need and I'll add it to the long list of favors you owe me."
Draco scoffed, but Potter was right. He was about to ask for something. Well, he was already here. He may as well get it over with. "My mother is going out of town. I wanted to see, with the scrutiny on our family, if that was going to be a problem. She's not on probation, but - you know."
"It'll be fine. Owl me the exact dates and locations she'll be visiting and I'll take care of it."
Draco immediately felt lighter. He hadn't expected that to be so easy. "Okay. Uh - I guess I'll leave you."
When Draco turned his head to give Potter a final nod, he found Potter frowning slightly and giving him a look that Theo often wore. It was a look that said he hated having you there, but also desperately wanted you to stay. Draco just shook his head and mumbled, "You're pretty fucked up, aren't you?"
"Yep," he replied quickly, without a hint of shame.
Draco leaned his side against the wall. "You put on a good show for the papers."
"Yeah? You read about me? Do you have some sort of shrine in your bedroom? Please, don't ask me to sign a chocolate frog card to add to your collection of Harry Potter memorabilia."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You're the one pouring over articles about my dating life."
That made Potter laugh. Draco smiled, then, as soon as he realized he and Potter were both smiling at each other, he scowled again. Fucking hell, he needed to leave before they accidentally bonded over something. "Bye, Potter," he said quickly before turning toward the hall.
Draco nearly collided with a witch who'd been walking toward them. He jumped back in alarm when he recognized the person as Granger. "Bloody hell, Granger," he exclaimed, holding his hand up to his heart.
"Did I sneak up on you?" she asked excitedly. "I never sneak up on anyone!"
"She's right," Potter added from behind Draco. "She's the least sneaky person in the world. I heard her coming from all the way down the hall."
Draco was about to retort but was caught up in that strange pull that seemed to surround Granger. Once he realized he was staring into her eyes, he pulled his gaze away and studied the rest of her. She looked good. Her dress was simpler than most of the witches' here tonight but hung off her body nicely. She had a slight amount of makeup on, which made her eyes look larger than normal, and her hair was tame, pulled up with a few curls escaping and framing her face.
Yes, Granger grew up and became pretty. Who fucking cares? Get a hold of yourself. You came to this event with Daphne Greengrass, easily the most stunning person in the ballroom tonight. You're used to being surrounded by beauty, so why is this slightly pretty witch so interesting to you?
Draco had no idea. Maybe because she didn't used to be pretty? Or maybe she was always pretty and he just hadn't let himself notice back in school. Either way, it didn't matter. He just needed to get out of here.
"I heard about your new position," she said, a little nervously. "The liaison between the Ministry and the Sacred Twenty-Eight. That's impressive. You'll be able to influence every new law. It's a lot of power, especially for someone our age."
Draco stared at her as he wondered about Gryffindors and their obsession with small talk. Granger especially appeared to be one of those nervous talkers who couldn't help but fill silences. Even now, he could see her thinking up something else to say since Draco still hadn't replied. She was also being oddly kind. Then, it occurred to him that Potter had probably told her everything. Fuck, pity from Granger was almost as bad was pity from a house elf.
He sighed and took a step toward the hall, ready to return to his date, if she was still here. "Yes, Granger. I'm so glad my father died, leaving me to take on this prestigious role."
"That's not what I-"
"Bye, Granger. Potter," he said with a curt nod to each of them. Then, Draco turned around and set out to find Daphne. As he walked, he heard Granger mumble something to Potter about "touchy ferrets."
Whatever. I'd rather be a touchy ferret than a bleeding-heart nymph any day.
Really? A nymph? Why was that the first thing that popped in your head? It's not even a proper animal.
Shut up!
Yes, Draco decided. He was definitely taking that Dreamless Sleep Potion tonight.
When Draco finished his meeting with Fitzgerald the following Friday, the older wizard returned to the Wizengamot Administration Offices while Draco turned towards the lifts, keeping his head down as he walked past the Improper Use of Magic and Misuse of Muggle Artifacts offices. Luckily, the Auror offices were on the other end of the floor and he didn't have to walk through that area every time he came to review new laws.
So far, the job had been much more difficult than his mother had made it seem. Mostly because he had so much to learn about the Ministry's legal process. There was also a lot of legal jargon Draco knew next to nothing about, except that it was important, as one small word could entirely change the intent of the law.
On one hand, Draco hated all the dull work and had been complaining incessantly to Daphne and Finley about it over the past two weeks. But on the other hand, it was a good distraction. For the past several nights, he'd simply passed out on his bed surrounded by legal texts and had slept straight through the night, his head filled with arcane legal concepts instead of horrifying scenes from the war.
Draco had reached the lift and when the doors opened, he was glad to find it empty, save for a few interoffice memos flying around the ceiling. He stepped inside and pounded the button for Level 8. Then, right before the doors closed, he hit the button for Level 7, too.
He still hadn't worked up the nerve to apologize to Theo and decided now was the time. While Fitzgerald had been droning on about his plans for an upcoming holiday to France (a conversation he'd prefaced by saying he wanted tips from Draco on what to see, though was obviously just a chance for him to brag about what an impressive world traveler he was), Draco's mind had been wandering and settled on this topic of Theo.
Why was he finding it so hard to apologize to the git? Draco had shown up at Potter's house and claimed to be a time traveler and even sought out and confessed everything to Daphne. But for some reason, this conversation with Theo was more daunting.
The answer he'd come up with was embarrassing. He thought the reason he was having such a hard time with this particular task was because this was the first thing he'd decided to do on his own since the beginning of the year. The other Draco had told him to go to Potter and Daphne, and he knew on some level it would turn out. He hadn't said anything about Theo.
After everything that had happened in the war, then having all his father's responsibility thrust upon him, not to mention the whole time-travel drama, Draco was coming to value free will above all else. He hated the idea of having his life controlled by someone else. Though when it came down to it, when it was finally time for him to exercise his free will, it was too much.
Draco had had his father telling him what to do his whole life. Then the Dark Lord, then his father again. As soon as his father had died, that role had been filled by future Draco and his mother a little bit, who'd coerced him into taking this liaison position. Now that it was just him calling the shots (even in this very small way), he was terrified.
Wow, he was more of a coward than he originally realized. What was wrong with him? He was a fully-qualified wizard now. A very rich, very powerful wizard (which was a frightening thought), and he had to learn to make decisions for himself without going into a panic. So, he was going to march into Theo's office and apologize, even if it killed him.
"Level 7 - Department of Magical Games and Sports," the woman's voice in the lift called out. Draco stepped out onto the floor before he could second guess himself. He knew Theo worked in the Ludicrous Patents Office, but had no idea where that was, as he'd only ever visited the Quidditch side of this floor to pick up tickets.
He assumed it was on the other side and started walking confidently until he spotted a sign with the name of Theo's department. There were three desks stacked with piles of parchment. A young witch about Draco's age sat at one of the desks, an older wizard sat next to her, and Theo was in the third desk.
Fuck, Draco was going to have an audience for this shit show. That wouldn't do. He was about to turn around when the witch looked up and jumped in her seat, eyes wide with fear. "It's Draco Malfoy," she hissed.
The older wizard looked up, but Theo kept his head down, apparently lost in whatever he was writing. Okay, so much for leaving. Draco cleared his throat and Theo continued to look down.
"Theo," he said clearly.
Theo finally drew his eyes away from the parchment in front of him and when he saw Draco, he didn't look surprised to see him there. Draco was pretty sure he'd never seen Theo look surprised about anything. "Hi, Draco."
"May I speak with you?"
"Yes," he replied, leaning back in his chair. The other two wizards were staring at them, not even trying to hide the fact that they were listening in on the conversation.
Draco cocked his head toward a row of windows that were spelled to make it look like it was snowing outside.
"You want to talk over there?" Theo asked. Draco rolled his eyes. He knew Theo wasn't this dense. He did this sort of thing on purpose, though Draco had no idea why.
"Yes," Draco growled. The witch whispered something to the wizard and Draco had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at them.
He marched over to the windows and was relieved when Theo followed him. "What happened?" Theo asked. "Do you have a patent to submit?"
"No." Just then, Draco realized that Theo probably knew a lot about legislation, as he read patents all day. If they were friends, Draco could pick his brain about it. But they were friends, weren't they? It was hard to say.
"I came to thank you," Draco said under his breath.
"Huh?"
"I came to thank you," he repeated a little louder.
"You're mumbling."
Draco sighed and said one more time, very slowly and clearly, "I. Came. To. Thank. You."
Theo smiled. "I actually heard you the first two times."
Draco shoved him.
"Hey! This isn't much of a thank you."
"If you want a proper thank you, then stop being a prick."
"Fine. What are you thanking me for?"
"For coming to my father's funeral."
"Oh. I thought you were mad about that."
"Well, I got over it."
Theo shrugged. "Okay."
"Okay."
Now say you're sorry. It's easy, just two words: I'm sorry.
"I should get back to work." Theo turned back toward his desk but Draco caught his arm.
"Wait! Come get a drink with me." Yeah, that was a good idea. Maybe with a beer or two in him, Draco could choke out an apology.
"It's three o-clock," Theo replied, pointing toward the clock on the wall.
"I know what time it is. Pubs are open at three."
"Normal people, the ones with jobs, stay at work until five," Theo explained, as if Draco were dumb.
Draco scowled. "I know that. Can you not get away early? Just this once?"
Theo crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Draco. "Why? What are we going to do at this pub?"
Now it was Draco's turn to treat Theo like he was stupid. "Drink beer."
"Not talk about our feelings, right?"
"Of course not," Draco scoffed.
"Good. Because if I'm going to cut out early, it better be to just sulk and drink. Mostly in silence."
"Yes. Drink and sulk. Let's do that."
"Okay. For the record, you're being weird."
"Noted. Can we go?"
Once they arrived at the pub and both had beers in hand, Draco turned to Theo and said quickly, "I'm sorry for being rude to you at my father's funeral. And also for running out when you, Blaise, and Daphne showed up at the Manor."
"What the fuck?"
"What?" Draco asked, looking around him for the source of Theo's sudden indignation.
"You promised there'd be no talk of feelings."
"How was that a feeling?"
"You're feeling apologetic, remorseful, guilty."
Draco swore under his breath. "Here's a feeling for you, Theo. I feel like I want to hex you."
Theo nodded. "I get that a lot."
They glared at each other for a few moments, then Draco said, "You're supposed to accept my apology. That's what you do when someone says they're sorry for something."
"I know that."
"Well - do you accept it? Are you over it?"
Theo shrugged and took another sip of his beer. "I was over it about one second after it happened."
Draco let out a long sigh. "Okay."
"Okay," Theo repeated.
They were quiet again, then Draco broke the silence to say, "I've been through a lot of painful experiences in my life, but these conversations with you are some of the worst."
Theo let out a dark laugh. "I get that a lot, too."
"You say other people tell you these things, but who are you talking about? You only talk to two people besides me."
"Blaise," Theo answered simply. "Oh, also, he did shag Daphne last weekend after the Gala. He told me about it in unnecessary detail."
Draco groaned. "That witch...She's in love, you know? That's why she's being so stupid."
"Yes, I've noticed. I really hope it's not contagious."
Draco smiled. Okay, so Theo could be funny sometimes. "Fuck, I hope not," he agreed.
Present Time: August 2004 / Draco's Time: May 2000
Draco was sitting at the table in the library reading a few journals he'd found from a man who had purposefully turned himself into a human time-turner as he waited for his next time jump, which was supposed to start any minute. A week ago, he'd finally figured out how to stop the time jumping. Just as future Draco had said, the solution was simple and he and his mother had been overthinking it.
All Draco had to do was use an Extraction Potion, brewed with the remaining shards of the time turner he'd taken from the parlor the night of the accident, to remove the pieces of the magical object from his blood stream. The time jumping would stop, since it was enabled by the magic of the time turner.
This also explained why Draco switched with himself for one of the time jumps, but not the others. The reason he'd switched with his future self when he jumped to November 2000 was because the Draco from that time still had time turner pieces in his body. The other Dracos had already taken the Extraction Potion and were no longer able to time travel.
He still didn't know why he and the other Draco switched places. That didn't align with anything he'd read and he was still reading these journals in the hopes of solving that puzzle. But it didn't matter if he never found out. He knew how to stop it and now, he just had to wait until he made that November time jump from the other side to take the Extraction Potion.
Just then, that familiar dizzy feeling came over Draco and a minute later, he reappeared in a different version of the library. There was no other Draco waiting for him this time. Draco took his wand out and checked the date and time. August 18th 2004, 4:24pm. Draco wrote the information down on the notebook he'd brought along, then returned it to his pocket before searching the library. He was looking for clues about his future.
There were a lot of legal texts and a few star charts spread across the table at the center of the room. Draco sighed. That probably meant he still had his liaison job. Hopefully, in four years he had a better handle on it. There were a few notes on the desk in Draco's handwriting and he checked them, but there was nothing very telling. They contained information about recent investments he'd made and a list of the different types of legislation going in front of the Elders in their next session.
Draco stacked the notes and put them back in place, then left to search the rest of the house. He peered into his father's study on his way to his bedroom and checked the family clock. It only contained two hands: His hand, which was at the Work position and his mother's hand, which was at Malfoy Manor. Draco wondered how the clock knew which Draco to track. He also noted that there was no hand for Lady Malfoy (the name Daphne had started calling his future wife). So, they weren't married in this time. Interesting.
He spotted his father's hand, which was still on the table where his mother had placed it after it had fallen to the floor. Draco wondered if the next person to touch it again would be him, in 2006. He shuddered and closed the door, then continued walking to his bedroom.
When he arrived in his bedroom, he searched for more clues, but it was unexpectedly bare. Draco could tell he didn't live here in this time. He must live with Lady Malfoy. He wondered if he still had to come stay the night twice a week or if she'd already altered the wards on the house. If he did stay here, he must bring an overnight bag because the closet was empty, save for a few old Hogwarts uniforms and several pairs of dress robes that were no longer in fashion.
Draco went looking for his mother next and found her in the dining room. The table was covered with flowers, photos, and linen samples and at the center was a tiny replica of a wooden table.
"Hello, Draco," his mother said absently as she frowned at the miniature table. She touched her wand to a photo in front of her and a grey tablecloth appeared on the small table. Next, she touched a different photo and grey plates appeared. She shook her head and touched a third photo and the plates changed to white.
"Come here," Narcissa said, waving Draco over. She touched several more photos and by the end the table was adorned with large white rose centerpieces, gold-rimmed glassware, light grey plates, and gold flatware and napkins.
"This is the best I can do," she announced, clearly annoyed.
Draco nodded dutifully. He'd seen his mother plan enough dinner parties to know what was going on. But she usually loved this part. He'd never seen her so frustrated when choosing decor. She sighed again and turned to face him. "How rude of me. This wedding planning is driving me wild. You'll have to excuse me. Come here."
She pulled him into a hug. "Welcome to 2004. How are you? You're from May 2000, right?"
Draco nodded and motioned toward the table she'd just decorated. "Wedding? Is this for my wedding?!"
"Yes. You're getting married in two months."
"And we still haven't picked the décor?" Draco knew this task was usually completed at least four months in advance.
"Don't get me started," she sighed, then turned back to face the small table she'd made. "And that's the best I could do. Which isn't terrible, it's just all wrong for an Autumn wedding."
"Isn't this the bride's job?" Draco asked carefully, scanning the table for hints about his future wife, but it was all just flowers and place settings.
"If it was up to the bride, you'd be getting married in a barn somewhere. I insisted on an elegant wedding and she agreed, as long as she didn't have to do any of the work. The only task I set her was to pick a color. You know what she picked? Grey. Grey, Draco. For a wedding. An Autumn wedding. Then I thought, okay, grey is neutral, we can save it with a good accent color, and for that, she picked gold. And now, I'm stuck trying to figure out how to decorate a wedding with nothing but neutrals."
"Did you ask her to change the color?"
Narcissa snorted, something Draco had never seen her do before. "Once she'd settled on grey, she was determined to keep it. She had this whole speech about how it was the color of your eyes, her favorite feature of yours, how on a deeper level she liked the reminder that not everything in the world is black and white, something she'd learned from you, and as an added bonus the color worked for all of her bridesmaids, who have different complexions and hair colors."
"Who are her bridesmaids?" he asked quickly
His mother smirked. "Nice try."
Narcissa tightened her jaw and glared back at the miniature table. "When I told her how impossible it was to make a wedding with the colors she'd chosen, she suggested we give up the idea of an elegant reception and just 'rent a room in a restaurant somewhere,' claiming it would be so much easier since it's already decorated and everyone could just 'order off the menu.'"
Draco winced and turned to find his mother glaring at him, as if this was somehow his fault. "A restaurant, Draco."
Draco had to keep from laughing. "It sounds awful, Mother."
Narcissa sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"So, you...uh...don't like her?" Draco asked carefully. He'd never considered the possibility of his mother not approving of Lady Malfoy.
She waved dismissively. "No, of course I like her. She has terrible taste, but in every other way, she's lovely. You did a great job, really. Don't mind me."
She was holding back. He could tell, then decided to tell her so. "There's more you don't like about her than her poor taste. What is it?"
Narcissa's eyes turned sad and she dropped Draco's gaze. "We got off on the wrong foot, your fiancée and I, and are still trying to - make up for that."
"What did she do?"
His mother shook her head quickly. "It was me. I was in the wrong. I -"
"Mother, past Draco," Draco heard his voice say from the other end of the room. The other Draco was walking into the dining room and eying Narcissa. "Did you give anything away?" he asked her.
She waved away the question. "Of course not. I was just asking for his opinion on this table setting."
The other Draco stopped to study the model of the table, then waved his wand and changed the colors of the chargers around the plates from grey to gold. Draco knew the other Draco didn't care about the color of chargers. But he'd learned, after years of helping his mother pick décor, that he had to make a small change, otherwise she'd accuse him of not taking it seriously.
"It's perfect," the other Draco declared, giving Draco a knowing smile.
"It's really far from perfect," his mother countered.
"It's perfect, given your constraints," he corrected.
"Why is the identity of my future wife such a big secret?" Draco cut in, eager to move the conversation away from table linens and back to Lady Malfoy.
"The bride wishes it so," his mother replied.
"This witch seems to make a lot of demands."
"She's a woman who knows her own mind," the older Draco cut in before Narcissa could reply. Draco could tell his mother was refraining from rolling her eyes.
"You don't approve," Draco said, looking at Narcissa.
"Yes, I do. I approve-" then she turned to the other Draco and repeated, with more emphasis, "-I approve." She turned back to face Draco. "So, when you do start dating this woman, there's no need to hide it for as long as you -"
"Okay, Mother. Thank you." The other man had Draco's arm and was pulling him out of the room. "I need to talk to this Draco."
"We're not finished here! Before the end of today we're finalizing the linens and flowers. I need to get the order in tonight if we have a chance of pulling this off in time."
"Yes, Mother," the other Draco called, sounding exasperated. When they reached the hall, Draco turned to the man and could tell, now that he was up close, that he was very stressed. He wondered if it was just from the wedding planning or if there was more.
"Your fiancée and Mother don't like each other," Draco stated, wondering if this was what was upsetting him.
The other man waved him off. "It's fine. My fiancée likes Mother just fine, given everything, and I'm sure she will grow to love her one day. And Mother...she's struggling, but she'll be fine."
"Why?"
The other Draco stopped in the hall and Draco saw him biting the inside of his cheek. He guessed he was trying to remember if he was supposed to answer this question. "Mother would never say this, but she's offended by my choice. She's Mother's foil, in a way. And also, one of those thoroughly good people who remind people like us and Mother how terrible we can be, deep down."
"Like Potter?"
The other Draco started walking down the hall again. "Yeah. Like Potter."
"Fuck. Why the hell did you choose someone like that? Don't you just feel like shit all the time?"
"In the beginning, yes. Less so, now," he replied as he held the door of the library open for Draco.
"I guess that explains why you're so stressed. And obviously not into this wedding planning," Draco said as he lowered himself into an armchair.
"Oh, no. That's about something else."
"What? Are you going to tell me?"
The older Draco nodded. "Yeah. The wedding's not going to happen in October. We're going to call it off, so I know all this planning now is just a waste of time."
"It's going to be called off?! Why?"
"Oh, not called off. Those were the wrong words. Postponed, until next spring."
"Why?" Draco repeated.
"You'll learn more about it in your September time jump," he replied in a faraway voice.
"Do you know why?"
The other Draco, who still hadn't taken a seat, began pacing the room. "No!" he replied, obviously frustrated. "I don't know! I remember being told it was postponed, I remember talking to a later Draco who gave me a very vague, unhelpful reason (fucking wanker) and at the time I didn't really care. But now - fuck! I'm just waiting for this big row but have no idea what it will be about.
"I'm so angry with that other Draco for leaving me in the dark like this but in a few months, I'm going to be him and I'm going to say exactly what he did because no matter what I do, I can't break this timeline."
The distraught Draco was at the other end of the room now with his hands braced on a bookshelf and his head hanging down. When he looked over at Draco, he sighed. "I remember this time jump from your side. I know what you're thinking, that I'm a fucking mess, and you're right. I have no idea what I'm doing."
Draco nodded, at a loss for anything else to say. This Draco was a mess. Even though on the timeline, he was closer to that confident, content 2006 Draco, on the emotional stability scale, he seemed much closer to himself. It was disappointing. Draco had thought once he met his perfect match, she'd fix him up. But it seemed like she'd just give him one more thing to stress over.
Draco had planned to ask the future version of himself about his job and get tips for managing his insane workload. He'd also wanted to ask about Daphne. But he knew this wasn't the right time. This Draco was too preoccupied with his own issues and for the first time since Draco had started meeting his future self, it appeared that the other Draco needed him. That was odd.
"I think there's something you need to hear," Draco said to the other man.
"I know," he sighed, crossing the room and taking a seat in the chair opposite Draco. "Go ahead."
"You're too dependent on this witch. You're obsessive and clingy and if she's as wonderful as you say, surely she wouldn't be interested in someone so...pathetic. This isn't healthy."
The other wizard sighed and dropped his head in his hands. "I do depend on her. She helped me discover who I really am and when I'm not with her, I forget that man until she reminds me again. But I think it works both ways. I think we're dependent on each other. Maybe it's unhealthy, but if you slap a label of love on it, it suddenly becomes acceptable."
"It sounds awful. Look at you."
Draco let out a small laugh. "It's new. It's still so new, that's all. We'll get there. We're meant for each other, I'm sure of that. We both are."
"Okay," Draco replied, not even trying to hide the disbelief in his tone. "I have one more thing to say."
"Yeah. I remember."
"Okay then. I'm disappointed that you're not able to confide in her. The reason you - or well - some other Draco broke up with Astoria was because he realized he couldn't tell her his thoughts and feelings, and therefore knew she wasn't his match. But this woman - why can't you just tell her the wedding is postponed? Why can't you just tell her all this shit you just told me? It almost seems like you're afraid of her."
The older Draco was quiet for a long time, staring out the window. Draco saw a few tears in his eyes, but none of them fell. "I'm not afraid of her," he said eventually, his voice flat. "I'm just afraid of losing her."
His eyes snapped back to Draco's. "You're probably right. I should talk to her and tell her everything, but I never know the right thing to do. She's always telling me to trust my instincts, but which ones are my instincts? The first thought that pops in my head? The second voice that pokes holes in that original plan, or the third consideration?"
He stopped, as if expecting Draco to answer, but it was obviously a rhetorical question. When he didn't say anything else, Draco said kindly, "It will be better in 2006."
The other man let out a long breath and leaned his head back. "Bloody hell," he said to the ceiling. "I remember being the least helpful of all the Dracos you met. Sorry about that."
"It's fine - you clearly have a lot going on."
The other Draco stood abruptly and cocked his head toward the door. "Let's go help Mother. It'll be a good distraction."
"Yes, let's go plan a wedding that's not going to happen."
The other man rolled his eyes. "And you say Theo has no tact."
Draco watched his other self disappear into the hall but stayed back for a few moments to collect himself. This conversation had upset him more than he'd expected it to. He hadn't realized, until now, how much he'd been clinging to his eventual wife and the happy future she'd bring with her. But that clearly wasn't the case.
She seemed like a very difficult person, his mother didn't like her, and she'd transformed this Draco into a lovesick idiot. Maybe breaking this timeline wasn't such a bad idea, if it saved this Draco from all the pain he was in now. But he couldn't forget 2006 Draco. He was okay, wasn't he? So, it would turn out. Draco had to believe it would turn out, otherwise, he'd go mad.
Present Time: May 2000 / Draco's Time: Same as present
"Sorry I'm late," Draco said as he sat down across from Daphne at the restaurant they were meeting at for dinner. "Fucking Fitzgerald-" he began but was interrupted by the flash of a camera.
Draco let out a string of swears under his breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel his temper rising and knew he was one second away from snapping. He felt a hand on his leg, luckily under the table, where the cameras wouldn't see.
"Do you want to go?" Daphne whispered.
"No," he bit out. "I just need a minute." Draco used Occlumency to clear his mind, then dropped his hand from his face and looked back at Daphne. "I'm sorry about all this. I just have-"
"Draco. Calm down. It's fine, really. Astoria knows it's not real and I don't care about anyone else."
Draco focused on her pale green eyes, which were soft and calm, and he could see she was telling the truth. He nodded and relaxed slightly.
Ever since they'd attended the Ministry Gala together, the tabloids had been going wild with stories about some epic romance between Draco and Daphne. The papers claimed they'd fallen in love at Hogwarts, put things on hold during the war, then that Daphne had rejected Draco, so he'd used Astoria to get back at her. It was all nonsense and it had caught Draco completely off guard. He'd never had to suffer the media and his mother had been quick to explain why.
His father had kept their names out of the paper. It was just one more thing he'd been doing to help the family that Draco wasn't doing. He should have anticipated this. It was so obvious. Draco should have gone to the heads of the major media outlets before there was an issue and reinforced the threats and bribes Lucius had set up. He knew this.
His father had always told him, whoever controlled the media controlled everything. But Draco had missed it. He could tell his mother was disappointed but felt too bad for him to say anything about it. They were both coming to the realization that Draco didn't have what it took to fill in for his father. It was all becoming too much.
"I got the information I need from Robertson and am meeting with the head of the Prophet tomorrow, then the head of Witch Weekly the day after," he said in a low voice. "This will all go away and soon, they'll be printing retractions. I'll make sure of it."
Daphne began to reach across the table, then changed her mind and grabbed his leg under the tablecloth again. "Thank you, Draco. But really, I don't care. If I seem upset, it's just because I'm worried about you. Let's talk about something else. Tell me what you were going to say about Fritz. What did he do this time?"
"Quit."
"Quit?"
"Yeah. He said he'd learned all he could from the role. He has plans to be the Minister for Magic one day and needs to diversify his experience, blah blah. I have a feeling if my father had filled this role, he would have stayed and latched onto Lucius like the leech he is. But Fritz doesn't respect me and wants to find someone more reliable to use as a stepping stone on his way to the top. And I don't blame the git, I'm a fucking disaster."
"No you're not. And he was a tool, anyway. I'm sure you're not sad to see him go."
"At least I knew what to expect with him. He was annoying as fuck, but I knew he shared my values and beliefs. This new person - fuck - it better not be one of the do-gooder, warrior-for-justice types."
Draco swore again, then shook his head. "I don't want to talk about this. Let's talk about you. Anything new to report?"
"Nope. You are the only interesting person in this relationship. I never heard about your most recent time jump. Tell me about that."
"It was shitty," he growled.
"Okay, well, can you tell me more?"
"Yeah...fine." He went on to explain everything that had gone on during his last visit to the future. He finished just as their first course arrived. Daphne took a few bites of her salad before speaking.
"Grey really is an awful color for an Autumn wedding."
"After everything I just told you, that's your focus?!"
Daphne shrugged. "I don't know what to say. I mean, I know you're scared that this new witch isn't the panacea you hoped for, but all couples fight, Draco. Even the good ones. And you know it's going to turn out."
Draco shook his head. She hadn't seen the other Draco, that's why she didn't understand. He must not be explaining his extreme distress well enough. When Draco finished his soup and Daphne finished her salad, after the waiter had cleared their plates, Daphne leaned in and said, "She's not from our world. You see that, right?"
Draco nodded. "I know. I got there too. Refusing to live in the Manor, speaking out against my mother, not wanting an elaborate wedding-"
"Grey," Daphne provided.
Draco sighed. "Yes, choosing grey. She must be foreign, right? That's the most logical explanation since she's obviously not knowledgeable in the ways of British Pureblood Society."
There was another reason Draco thought she was foreign, but he didn't say it aloud. When Draco from the future had been talking about his fiancée, he'd said he should tell her "everything" and the way he'd said that made it sound like he'd been keeping more from her than just the fact that their wedding was going to be postponed.
Draco guessed it was the details of the war. A foreign person wouldn't know how bad it had been, what being a Death Eater really meant. That made the most sense because someone who had been here, someone who really knew, could never love Draco as much as the future Draco claimed his wife would.
"I don't know," Daphne replied. "Either way, I'm excited to meet Lady Malfoy. Do you think you'll know her as soon as she waltzes into your life?"
"I'm sure I will, but I'm nervous. I think once I meet her, I'll go completely crazy. But I have a lot of things to take care of before I lose my mind and turn into a lovesick idiot - like you.
Daphne kicked him under the table and he winched. Just then, a camera flashed again. Damn, their timing was good. He could feel his temper rising again but Daphne nudged his leg, drawing his attention back to her.
"Think about it, Draco. Lady Malfoy may be in some faraway country right now, passing by a tabloid stand. She notices a handsome man on the cover and can't help but pick up the magazine and read more. Ah, the handsome man is the young Malfoy heir, apparently caught up in some lovers' spat with an exquisite blonde witch. 'Hmm,' she thinks, 'he has good taste in women.' Then, she tosses the magazine in a rubbish bin, thinking to herself, 'These Brits are so dramatic,' oblivious to the fact that she just insulted her future husband."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he sneered.
Daphne shrugged. "I don't know how to make you feel better, Draco. That's why I'm not Lady Malfoy."
Draco frowned and was saved from having to respond by the arrival of their second course. Was Daphne right? Was his future wife out there somewhere, reading these terrible articles about him? Fuck, he hoped not.
A/N: No, Draco. Lady Malfoy doesn't read tabloids. But she has insulted you a lot.
I wonder who's going to take over Fitzgerald's job…In unrelated news, Hermione is going to start playing a much bigger part in this story starting in the next chapter. Yay! Thanks for reading!