A/N: Hey everybody, hope I didn't keep you waiting too long! It's time
for the fourth instalment!
There was a moment of quiet, during which only the clang of Hooch's fork hitting her plate sounded at the table, before nearly every teacher on staff burst out laughing. "Imagine, Severus, a parent!" Flitwick said, and gave Snape a rather unceremonious slap on the shoulder. Professor Sprout looked about ready to roll off her seat, and even McGonagall was chuckling in earnest.
"That'll be five points, son, and go to your room!" Madam Hooch said, in a fairly impressive imitation of Snape. Poppy Pomfrey was overtaken by a fit of giggles, and Snape scowled, as the students were beginning to stare at the head table and wonder what in blazes was going on. With a dark sneer he stood from his seat and stalked from the room. He didn't even notice McGonagall watching him go, or see the intrigued look on her face, as he swept out with grace and barely-contained revulsion. The idea of him having children was certainly laughable, but he didn't enjoy being made a spectacle of.
And something was bothering him about it even more. The part of his brain that had been trying to click together for so long finally had, and he realised what was so annoyingly familiar about the boy. Who he was constantly reminded of. An image of a fifteen-year-old Severus Snape, looking in the mirror as he got ready for the day, drifted into his mind. His features were sharper, and of course there was the ever-present nightmare that was his nose, but the dark hair and eyes matched up, as did the stiff way he held himself. No wonder it had taken him so long to pin it down. Snape was being reminded of himself!
But, that didn't necessarily mean the boy was related to him, did it? He shook his head. No, he'd given up on the idea of a family years ago, burying it with the knowledge of how dangerous his life had become. Spy work did not equal stability. Also, the idea of a relationship that lasted long enough for him to even agree to produce a child was... Unlikely. And, Potions Master that he was, an accident was even less apt to occur. Snape shook his head. No, the boy probably just took after him for some other reason. He was a Slytherin after all. It was probably just a fluke, or maybe they were related distantly. He still had a few cousins in Britain. As Snape stalked down to his dungeons, he mused that he would have to see what he could find on the name 'Septimus'.
~
It took Demitrius a while to finally bump into that idiot Fitsgibbons, and even longer for Snape to come and help deal with the problems of sleeping arrangements. It seemed there were no available beds in the Slytherin fifth years' part of the dormitory. After enduring a few lurid comments about sharing rooms with the fifth year girls, Demitrius was thrust rather unceremoniously into the seventh year dormitory, where there was an extra bed. All the while Snape kept glaring at him penetratingly, as if trying to find something, before stomping off cursing about distant relations.
It wasn't until after his official introduction that Demitrius finally got some genuine free time. Before dinner Fitsgibbons accosted him in the Common Room, talking about Quidditch, that damnable sport. The last time Demitrius had been on a broom was his seventh birthday, when Potter was still convinced he could make a Quidditch player of Hermione's son yet. After several minutes during which Demitrius clung to his broom, muttering the foulest curses and threats he had ever heard his father use, a very pale Harry Potter had finally given up. Thankfully Demi was freed of Fitsgibbons when he went to practice after dinner. After that Demi worked on listing the ingredients in the potions he had listed, until the fire began to die down, and the Common Room emptied out.
The stresses of the day catching up with him, Demi hit the bed and closed his eyes, almost immediately falling asleep. Or so it seemed to his older roommates. He waited until the room was filled with the quiet lull of their snores before creeping out of the dorm, very surreptitiously. The rooms were dark and cold, but familiarly so. Carefully he made his way down to the second-year boys' dormitory. His hand cradled the smooth handle of his wand lightly, but expectantly, and he pushed the door open with observant caution. If he was caught it would be easy enough to pretend he'd simply gotten mixed up on the way back from the toilet.
Demitrius placed a foot inside, and looked around. No one had stirred. He walked quietly along the foot of the six beds in the room. Once he had to crane his neck to get a good look at a bed's occupant. He was so caught up in these quiet observations, that it wasn't until he reached the last two beds that he realised they were empty. The curse the lingered on his lips never made it past them. Just his luck that they would choose tonight to pull of some insidious little plot. He felt a twinge of disappointment as he made his way silently back to the door. Demitrius stopped dead as the sounds of whispered voices reached his ear. Close to the dormitory, moving fast, speaking in conspiratorial tones. He looked around. No time to just run out, they'd spot him for sure.
The door to the dormitory began to open, and Demi did the only thing that came to mind. The world grew big and distorted, stretching into a vulgar mockery of itself for a few brief minutes, and Demitrius hastily followed instinct and fled into the shadows. He waited beneath the frame of an anonymous second year's bed and watched as Ross and Finly's feet moved by. Their steps made large tremors which Demitrius was painfully aware of, and he fought the instinct to move further back.
Thankfully, neither boy had seen an unusually large, black tarantula skitter into the darkness as they entered their dorm. Demitrius listened to what he could of their conversation. Even their whispers left strange reverberations on the air, and he could sense their anticipation. Demi reached out a pair of feelers to test the atmosphere. Anticipation, fading excitement and energy. The actual words the boys were using were impossible to decipher in this form; His hearing was incredibly bad as a spider.
It was a true testament to Demitrius' intelligence that he was able to take on this form at fifteen, but what was simply remarkable was that he'd been able to do it for about two years. After his father's untimely departure from the world of the living, Demitrius had still spent his summers at Hogwarts, and after unwittingly making some blithe comment to McGonagall about fancying transfiguration, soon found himself her guinea pig of sorts. Not that he minded. The gift of being an unregistered animagus had had more than a few uses in his time. Usually in situations far more dangerous than the one he was faced with now.
Demitrius waited for the vibrations on the air to die down before he ventured from his hiding place. Soundwaves still surrounded him, from snoring and breathing, but they held none of the same 'danger! Large animal!' warnings that the previous ones did. Like any proud Slytherin, Demi was quite poisonous, and he fought against the urge to bite the hand dangling across the side of Ross' bed. He wanted to punish them, not kill them.
For safety's sake Demitrius waited until he was positive his two targets were sound asleep before changing back. Sinewy black limbs twisted together into arms and legs, as his multiple beady eyes formed back into the pair of dark orbs he was used to. Coarse black hair grew soft and retreated to the safety of his scalp. Again the world was distorted, as his senses changed, and the once enormous surroundings grew small and normal again. Then it was quick work to exact his punishment upon the two boys. He wasn't even thinking, really, when he left behind the pair of calling cards at the foot of their beds. It was what was ordinarily done, and by the time it was all through, he really was tired.
So it was that a considerably less guarded, and considerably more jaded Demitrius actually did fall into his bed, and directly off to sleep. His dreams were filled with screaming. Thus, it was not entirely hard to understand when one more failed to wake him up in the morning. Actually, it was the second high-pitched scream, and the shuffling of the seventh- years around him that finally did it. The door to the dormitory was swung open by a rather energetic-looking fourth year Slytherin girl. "You guys have got to come and see this!" She said, and leaving the door open, dashed back off.
"Well damn, what's that noise?" One of the older boys grumbled. Demitrius sat up, trying very hard to look just as baffled as everyone else, and succeeding marvellously. He grumbled about interrupted sleep as he threw his sheets away and staggered down to the Common Room. There, amidst the familiar dim light and cold green furniture, Finly and Ross were sitting, looking absolutely horrified. And they had a right to be. Most of their fellows were pointing and laughing, but a few looked very scared and suspicious. Brutus Fitsgibbons was pounding the floor with a meaty fist as tears streamed down his cheeks, howls of mirth erupting from him.
Demitrius raised an eyebrow at him and his two victims. Each were clutching a piece of paper tightly in ghost-white hands and looking purely mortified. "Oi, what's that?" The Slytherin fourth-year from before asked, and yanked one of the parchments from Ross. There was a sudden quiet as everyone waited for her to read what it said. She cleared her throat. "It says: Slytherin Reformation. You Have Been Reformed!" She told them, and a new burst of laughter exploded from the Slytherins. Demi joined in, but it was entirely false now. Had he been thinking at all last night he wouldn't have even considered leaving the calling cards.
"Well, that's one way of putting it!" A first year declared, glancing at Ross and Finly. Demitrius allowed himself a small smirk at that. Even he had to admit, the words had never seemed quite so appropriate before. It just proved his subconscious had a fairly twisted sense of humour.
Suddenly the laughter ceased as the Head of House marched through the door to the Common Room, looking extremely put-out. "What is all this noise about?" He demanded silkily. There was a pause. Then, every single arm present was soon pointing at Finly and Ross, who seemed to be trying very hard to melt into their seats. Snape started. There was a pause as he looked at the pair with a very dark scowl. "Alright, you two go up to Pomfrey's, and be quick about it." He said. Like lightning the pair dashed up and out of the Common Room. Snape turned to follow them, but paused. "When I find out who had the poor sense to turn Finly and Ross into girls, I can assure their punishment will be most unpleasant." He warned.
It wasn't until after he was gone that the uproar returned, and once again, there wasn't a student present who could stop laughing. Well, except Demitrius, of course. After what he deemed to be an appropriate amount of time he returned to his new dorm and got ready for the day. Leaving the cards had to be the most moronic thing he had done since his arrival. He hadn't planned on re-starting the SR at all, and he wasn't quite sure what would be the best step to take next. Never do it again? Go full-out and bring back his old group? Demitrius had to quell even more painful memories at that thought. The Reformation would be a hard thing to recreate without Marcus.
"The looks on their faces, it was priceless!" One of the seventh years was saying as he came in, followed by the others. "Wonder who did it?" He asked aloud.
"Well, it had to be at least a really smart sixth year. People graduate not knowing that kind of transfiguration!" Another reasoned. "Especially being good enough to do it in a single night." He added. Demitrius decided to fuel the fires of curiosity a little.
"What makes you so sure it was done in a night?" He asked. There were a few chuckles all around.
"C'mon, those two are dense, but even they would notice if they slowly started changing genders!" The seventh year from before insisted.
"Now, hang on Kevin, he might have something. What was that potion Snape was telling us about last month? You know, the one that he said was the closest he'd come to teaching us a Love Potion?" One of the other boys, who'd been silent until now, asked.
"Oh yeah, I remember that one. It turns whatever you use it on into your romantic dream. Er, so, that would mean some pretty perverted Slytherin's been going around." Kevin said, looking a little nervous. "And that they're a seventh year." He added for good measure.
"I can just see it now, some twisted freak brewing a secret potion in Snape's lab." Another boy added as he got ready for breakfast. Demitrius bit back a smirk. This was perfect, now they were convinced it was a potion, which pulled him directly out of suspicion. He left the dorm completely unnoticed as the older boys continued to make their speculations. No doubt the conclusions drawn from that little conversation would spread like wildfire through the Slytherins.
~
Snape managed to get Ross and Finly to Pomfrey, who said they would have to miss their first few classes while she reversed their condition. He was out of the infirmary and on his way down to breakfast before he let the rather chilling smile that had been tugging on his lips for the past fifteen minutes have it's way. There wasn't a chance that a non-Slytherin had pulled this little prank off. Which meant, that somewhere, one of his students was much more skilled than they let on. Suddenly an image of Septimus flashed into his mind. Snape frowned. Surely it couldn't have been him? The boy was only a fifth year. He looked bright enough, but transfiguration wasn't a subject one easily excelled at. And the method used had, indeed, been transfiguration. Poppy Pomfrey confirmed it as she bustled around the two boys-er, girls, talking about dangerous pranks and such.
'No, more than likely they managed to get on the bad side of a seventh year.' Snape thought, and put the issue aside as he reached the main hall. The Slytherin table was alive with murmurs that soon spread out, carried by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff alike to finally reach Gryffindor. Replacing his smile with his typical foreboding sneer, Snape took his seat at the table. Professor Granger sat a few seats down, reading a book as she chewed on her toast. "Morning." She said distractedly, and Snape made a polite nod of assent. He looked at what she was reading. 'One Hundred and Twenty Ways to Avoid Dying at the Hands of a Rather Nasty Evil Monster'. Well, that was quite the title. A bit redundant too.
"Good Morning Hermione, Severus." McGonagall said as she took her usual seat next to Granger. Again, Snape merely nodded, as Hermione lowered her book and let loose a rather radiant smile.
"Good morning Professor, did you sleep well?" She asked. 'Still quite the kiss-up, aren't we, Granger?' Snape thought darkly as he placed a few strips of bacon on his plate. Of course, her being a Gryffindor, there was the slim little chance that she might actually care as well. Snape wasn't sure which was worse. But McGonagall smiled and nodded, reminded Hermione to call her Minerva, and the two started talking about the third years' and how this batch seemed unusually bright. A very optimistic way of looking at it. Snape himself was just convinced that last years' were amazingly dense, thus placing their average predecessors in a brighter light. He then ignored the rest of their conversation and thought instead about the potion brewing in his office. Tonight he and Granger would finish it, and then it would be her responsibility to make sure it was administered.
"Oh, that reminds me dear, would you believe I have him first class?" McGonagall said, and Snape popped out of his little potions world.
"Really? I bumped into him at the library the other day. You know, I think he's probably very intelligent." Hermione said. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they were talking about, especially since the two women had now turned to look at the Slytherin table. Hermione twisted her slender frame, and a lock of thick, healthy brown hair fell away, revealing the gentle curve of her neck. Snape blinked. He had never noticed how soft her skin looked before.
'And why would you?!?' His brain screamed, snapping him out of his careful observations. He shook his head and summoned up the image of a twelve-year- old Granger helping Longbottom keep his cauldron from melting, all ungainly from childish growth spurts, little more than a mess of frizzy hair and big front teeth. Any thoughts of soft skin were quickly banished from his mind and Snape relaxed.
He watched as young Demitrius noticed he was being observed, and turned slightly towards the head table. Before Hermione and McGonagall could pretend they hadn't been looking, he offered up a small wave and a smirk. Snape noticed he was sitting next to Fitsgibbons. And, as he had been the day before, was doing a very splendid job of ignoring him. Snape scowled. He also had the boy in his classes today, some time after lunch. What would that be like, he wondered? Was he still teaching Potions seventeen years from now? He barely managed to repress a shudder at the decidedly unpleasant thought. Another seventeen years stuck dealing with idiots and skulking around his dungeons. Well, it wasn't entirely ludicrous, was it? Just. Unpleasant. His Slytherin ambition was decidedly put-out at the prospect.
And something more was bothering him. 'Septimus' was a decidedly wizard name, it was old enough, and held none of the same adaptations most muggle ones did. However, last evening he had paid a little visit to the genealogy section of the library, and managed to pull up absolutely nothing. The last wizard to bear the name Septimus was a squib, who died having no spouse or children. Which meant that either young Demitrius was a muggle-born with a very unlikely name, or else he was lying. Snape frowned. Lying could mean one of two things. Either he wasn't at all who he said he was, or he didn't want people knowing his real name, likely due to some obvious connection with the future. Snape favoured the former idea. He'd never fancied time-travel, and the way Malfoy had looked at the boy. It left a lot of questions, didn't it?
"I don't have him until tomorrow." Hermione said, somewhat downcast. Then all conversations and musings stalled as the headmaster arrived, and the typical polite round of greetings were applied.
"Albus." Snape said, and Dumbledore beamed his twinkling smile in his direction. He then returned his attention to his plate to keep from being involved in any unnecessary conversation. It seemed fate did not agree with leaving him to his quiet thoughts.
"Headmaster? What was Draco Malfoy doing here the other day?" Hermione asked. Snape barely suppressed a snort, and wondered how someone so seemingly bright could miss the obvious. Especially considering that she'd been right there for the incident. But how on earth did she know Malfoy had been here? She'd gotten her notes from him, and hadn't shown up at lunch at all. He fixed Granger with a calculating look. Curious.
"Oh, he just popped by to ask after Demitrius, I'm afraid. No need to worry. I'm certain now that he's been formerly introduced the aurors will relax a bit." Dumbledore said. Hermione looked decidedly unhappy, but said nothing. Murmurs were going around everywhere about the mysterious boy from the future now, mingled with the comments that were undoubtedly about Finly and Ross' little incident. A childish prank that would soon enough become a celebrated accomplishment. Snape tuned out the rest of the conversations for that morning and thought about his classes instead. He wasn't sure what to make of the situations his life was creating at the moment, but he knew one thing. Not a single one could lead to anything good.
~
They moved the Transfiguration classroom. Demitrius frowned as he stood outside what was obviously Charms, cursing that idiot Fitsgibbons for chasing after those female Ravenclaws. He turned and started back down the way he had come. If Charms was where Transfiguration should be, then maybe they'd just switch spots in a few years or something. Of course it would always be preferable if he ran into someone who would do more than just stare at him in awe, or whatever it was. He was starting understand how Potter must have felt, unpleasant notion that it was.
In the end he wound up ten minutes late for class. In his own time, McGonagall would have bitten his head off. Of course, the odds of him loosing his bearings in his own time were slim, since he'd grown up running around Hogwarts. As it was she fixed him with a firm glare when he took his seat. A few of his fellow Slytherins and some of the nearby Gryffindors were snickering quite audibly. "Glad you could join us, Mr. Septimus." McGonagall said in a scolding tone. Demi shrugged and leaned into his chair. He wasn't bloody well going to confess to getting lost, now, was he? "That will be five points from Slytherin." She reprimanded, before turning back to the class.
Demitrius soon found himself absolutely and completely stunned. They would be trying to transfigure their desks into goats. He looked around the classroom in surprise. Goats. Not swords, not shields, not moving projectiles or armed bodyguards. Granted the effects of transfiguration were useful, but what in the hell was the merit of having a goat?!? What, would they distract Voldemort with it? He snorted, a little more loudly than he should have, and McGonagall looked at him in surprise. "Is there a problem, Mr. Septimus?" She inquired, folding her arms at her sides and giving him a stern look. Demi paused. Well, now that she'd mentioned it, there was a problem. But how to get the point across without seeming rude? He thought for a moment, before pulling out his wand, and pointing it at his desk. She hadn't given them any real instructions yet, but he was going to assume a goat could be produced along the same lines as a dog or cat.
Demitrius muttered a few words under his breath, and there was a small flash from his wand. Transfiguration and Potions. Fields he excelled in, and both seemed to be part of his genetic make-up, not that he minded. With a loud 'snap' the desk disappeared and was replaced by a rather placid- looking sheep. Demi frowned. "Well, damn." He said. He'd wanted a goat, not a sheep, but by the look of utter shock on McGonagall's face he'd gotten the point across. It took a few seconds for her to recover, and even longer for the other students in the class to snap their jaws shut. At McGonagall's expectant look, Demi shrugged.
"Barnyard animals aren't really my thing." He said, by way of excuse for producing the wrong mammal. "I think the classes I used to be taking had slightly different priorities." Demitrius added. McGonagall glanced at his sheep, and with a flick of her wrist, turned it back into a desk.
"Come with me, please." She said, and turned to head for her office at the back of the classroom. Demi shrugged and followed her. He soon realised that she'd come to change her office over the course of seventeen years. Not surprising, really. He looked around the spacious room as she pulled the door shut behind him. Books on Transfiguration lined shelves that were attached to the higher parts of the walls. Papers lay in neat and tidy stacks upon her desk. There were a few baubles and knick-knacks here and there, but none of the photographs Demitrius was used to. No smiling images of his mother or twinkling pictures of Dumbledore, though there was one of a group of young Gryffindors with the house cup. Demi didn't really recognise them, but one looked suspiciously like Potter.
He didn't have long to enjoy his little comparison before McGonagall fixed her very penetrating gaze on him. "Well, Mr. Septimus." She began. Demitrius fought back a smile, as he knew exactly where this was going. Sure enough McGonagall's stern look melted away into one of pleased admiration. "How exactly did you learn to do such advanced transfiguration with hardly any effort?" She asked. Demitrius raised an eyebrow.
"My apologies, but I'm afraid I can't divulge that information." He said. McGonagall made a sound similar to 'hmm' and moved to her desk. Reaching under, she pulled open a drawer, and after going through just a few papers produced a very odd looking chart. It was scaled like a pyramid, with very fine lines of alternating colour racing up it. Each line had a percentage one it, starting at the bottom with 'couldn't turn water into ice' and ending at the top with 'better than you, Minerva'. Demitrius waited expectantly as she held up the chart.
"Point your wand at the paper, please, Mr. Septimus." She informed him firmly. With a shrug Demi did as he was told, aiming the tip at the center of the page. Immediately it swooped up the little pyramid, quite outside his control, to touch one of the higher lines. McGonagall pulled the page away as the line began to glow. Underneath it was written 'bloody well better than a fifth year should be'. Demitrius couldn't really place the look on her face. Somewhere between startled, happy, and extremely curious. He decided to offer up a little information. After all, if he was going to change the future, he would need to start dropping some hints.
"In my time it's more important that we be as highly skilled as we can." He said. "Transfiguration is something I have a natural aptitude for." Demitrius explained, and with a 'hmm' of interest McGonagall returned the chart to it's proper place.
"Well, obviously your ahead of the rest of the class." She told him. Demi shrugged. That was true in both times, so it wasn't really news to him. "In fact, the only student I can remember showing such a natural skill for quite some time was Professor Granger. Considering her circumstances, it would not have been wise to move her education along too quickly. But, in your case." McGonagall trailed off, looking at him with consideration. Demitrius cleared his throat.
"In my time I'm a little ahead as well, so y-er, the professor allowed me some time to my own personal studies." He offered. McGonagall looked like she was about to say something scathing before he cut her off. "To do with Transfiguration, of course." Demi added. He'd almost let 'you' slip on purpose. It would be good to indicate a connection between himself and McGonagall, as it might help her to trust him more.
"Well, I was thinking more along the lines of moving you ahead a grade in classes." She told him. Demitrius sighed.
"That wouldn't do much, I think I'd still be a bit on the advanced side. Unless you increased the difficulty of the classes, of course." He explained. Then he looked at her somewhat meaningfully. "Better skills would be far from a bad thing." Demitrius added. There was a pause as he and the professor both looked at each other, weighing one another's minds. After a time there came a knock on the door.
"Professor? Mallory's turned himself into a duck." A rather amused and nervous voice said, muffled by the thick wood of the door. McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I'll be there in a minute Miss Craig." She called. Then she turned to Demitrius. "Alright, Mr. Septimus, we'll continue this discussion later. Until then I suggest you find a good book and start reading." She informed him, before marching out the doorway, where a duck Demi could only assume was 'Mallory' had begun quacking quite loudly.
~
In his office at the Ministry, Draco Malfoy scowled down at his desk. No one from any of the usual power families had a boy at Hogwarts who matched the description he'd given. And just this morning, he'd received an owl from Ethan Fitsgibbons, a low-ranking Death Eater who owed Lucius Malfoy a few favours. Apparently his son had informed him that a Hogwarts student from the future had accidentally used an illegal time-travel device.
Lowering a hand, Draco began to finger the edge of the message Fitsgibbons had sent him. This news was more than a little interesting. 'The boy's going by the name of Demitrius Septimus.' A line on the parchment said. Draco didn't need to look twice to know it was a wizard's name, he'd been raised to observe such things, but he also didn't need to double-check anything to know that there were no Septimus' in power now. And the way he had looked... He narrowed his eyes, remembering the brief scene at Hogwarts' main hall. The brisk stride and the manner in which he held himself. The look in his gaze, the same dark, decidedly unremarkable black hair. Malfoy sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. If that boy was really from the future, then all the signs pointed to one, undeniable thing.
His father had been right about Severus Snape.
A/N: Ha! See, I have this running theory that Malfoy's actually not a, ya know, complete idiot. From now on I'll be announcing my updates on WIKTT, but if there's anyone who wants a heads-up and isn't part of the group, you can let me know in a review. Shout-outs are below.
RoseFyre - Thanks, and you got it.
Jordan - Okay, thanks!
Silene Acaulis - Glad you enjoyed it. Wow, you've got a really neat name! It's good to know that I'm managing to be original with a very over-done plot-base. (
pigwidgeon37 - Yay, you are so nice! Such wonderful things you say about my story, and you recommended it to others, too! *Hugs until she turns purple* I'm glad you think the idea of Draco as an Auror isn't completely proposterous, and that 'Mione's in character. (Been trying really hard to keep it that way!! ^_^) You must really like my story if you told other people to read it, too, and I'm so happy I think I could burst. Hope chapter four was up to par, and thanks a million times over! Yay! :D
calicat - You're welcome, glad you're enjoying the story! Such praise! I'm sure I've made a few mistakes, but I'm glad they aren't blatantly obvious. Thanks for the review.
MadAboutHarry - Evil cliffies!!! Mwahahahaha! But, now I've updated, so I hope you enjoyed chapter four.
Jessicat1982 - Yay, you know, I'm pretty glad Susanna recommended my fic too. I tried really hard to keep Malfoy Malfoy-ish, so it's great that someone's noticed, as it means I haven't royally screwed up. As for Demi's future... Well, that remains to be seen, doesn't it? ^_~ Hope to see you around!
RowanRhys - Wow, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I thought it was about time someone shook things up a bit with Snape's kid too, and thanks for noticing, it's been a blast to work on this project so far. I'm glad you like Demi's name, and Demi himself, too. Personally I'm quite proud; Who knew there was such potential for a cool wizard in Snape and Hermione's son? I hope you enjoyed reading chapter two, I love it when people give me nice long reviews like that! So nice! :D
(No Name) - Gee, wish I knew who it was who liked that fork bit, I'm pretty pleased with the line myself. Oh well. Mystery-person, thanks for reviewing!
Scarlet - Glad you like it. Since I'm now a part of WIKTT, I'll be announcing my updates there.
Beth Ann - Ah, such praise, I'm glad you think I'm doing a good job. I have been trying hard to keep everyone in character and stick to my plotline. Hope you liked chapter four!
Isa - Yay, flattery! I know, I'm so evil, leaving people hanging all the time :D
Witchy-grrl - Yay, glad to see you're so enthusiastic. I'm real fond of ol' Flitwick myself, the potential for comedic relief packed into one little genius... Why, it's mind-boggling! ^_^ Hope to see you keep reading, you're reviews are always great to see!
Aemos - Thanks! :D
Nicolette - I'm writing, see? See? Lol, thanks for reading, hope you liked chapter four! ^_^
Sonja S. - Thanks for the compliments, and I agree with you, it gets tiring to see 'Mione going back in time so often! You'd think a responsible gal like her would be better with that Time-Turner ^_~. Yeah, I think everyone's noticed that our little duet has girls more often than boys, which is why I'm happy to say I broke that mould! Yay! Hope you enjoyed chapter four!
There was a moment of quiet, during which only the clang of Hooch's fork hitting her plate sounded at the table, before nearly every teacher on staff burst out laughing. "Imagine, Severus, a parent!" Flitwick said, and gave Snape a rather unceremonious slap on the shoulder. Professor Sprout looked about ready to roll off her seat, and even McGonagall was chuckling in earnest.
"That'll be five points, son, and go to your room!" Madam Hooch said, in a fairly impressive imitation of Snape. Poppy Pomfrey was overtaken by a fit of giggles, and Snape scowled, as the students were beginning to stare at the head table and wonder what in blazes was going on. With a dark sneer he stood from his seat and stalked from the room. He didn't even notice McGonagall watching him go, or see the intrigued look on her face, as he swept out with grace and barely-contained revulsion. The idea of him having children was certainly laughable, but he didn't enjoy being made a spectacle of.
And something was bothering him about it even more. The part of his brain that had been trying to click together for so long finally had, and he realised what was so annoyingly familiar about the boy. Who he was constantly reminded of. An image of a fifteen-year-old Severus Snape, looking in the mirror as he got ready for the day, drifted into his mind. His features were sharper, and of course there was the ever-present nightmare that was his nose, but the dark hair and eyes matched up, as did the stiff way he held himself. No wonder it had taken him so long to pin it down. Snape was being reminded of himself!
But, that didn't necessarily mean the boy was related to him, did it? He shook his head. No, he'd given up on the idea of a family years ago, burying it with the knowledge of how dangerous his life had become. Spy work did not equal stability. Also, the idea of a relationship that lasted long enough for him to even agree to produce a child was... Unlikely. And, Potions Master that he was, an accident was even less apt to occur. Snape shook his head. No, the boy probably just took after him for some other reason. He was a Slytherin after all. It was probably just a fluke, or maybe they were related distantly. He still had a few cousins in Britain. As Snape stalked down to his dungeons, he mused that he would have to see what he could find on the name 'Septimus'.
~
It took Demitrius a while to finally bump into that idiot Fitsgibbons, and even longer for Snape to come and help deal with the problems of sleeping arrangements. It seemed there were no available beds in the Slytherin fifth years' part of the dormitory. After enduring a few lurid comments about sharing rooms with the fifth year girls, Demitrius was thrust rather unceremoniously into the seventh year dormitory, where there was an extra bed. All the while Snape kept glaring at him penetratingly, as if trying to find something, before stomping off cursing about distant relations.
It wasn't until after his official introduction that Demitrius finally got some genuine free time. Before dinner Fitsgibbons accosted him in the Common Room, talking about Quidditch, that damnable sport. The last time Demitrius had been on a broom was his seventh birthday, when Potter was still convinced he could make a Quidditch player of Hermione's son yet. After several minutes during which Demitrius clung to his broom, muttering the foulest curses and threats he had ever heard his father use, a very pale Harry Potter had finally given up. Thankfully Demi was freed of Fitsgibbons when he went to practice after dinner. After that Demi worked on listing the ingredients in the potions he had listed, until the fire began to die down, and the Common Room emptied out.
The stresses of the day catching up with him, Demi hit the bed and closed his eyes, almost immediately falling asleep. Or so it seemed to his older roommates. He waited until the room was filled with the quiet lull of their snores before creeping out of the dorm, very surreptitiously. The rooms were dark and cold, but familiarly so. Carefully he made his way down to the second-year boys' dormitory. His hand cradled the smooth handle of his wand lightly, but expectantly, and he pushed the door open with observant caution. If he was caught it would be easy enough to pretend he'd simply gotten mixed up on the way back from the toilet.
Demitrius placed a foot inside, and looked around. No one had stirred. He walked quietly along the foot of the six beds in the room. Once he had to crane his neck to get a good look at a bed's occupant. He was so caught up in these quiet observations, that it wasn't until he reached the last two beds that he realised they were empty. The curse the lingered on his lips never made it past them. Just his luck that they would choose tonight to pull of some insidious little plot. He felt a twinge of disappointment as he made his way silently back to the door. Demitrius stopped dead as the sounds of whispered voices reached his ear. Close to the dormitory, moving fast, speaking in conspiratorial tones. He looked around. No time to just run out, they'd spot him for sure.
The door to the dormitory began to open, and Demi did the only thing that came to mind. The world grew big and distorted, stretching into a vulgar mockery of itself for a few brief minutes, and Demitrius hastily followed instinct and fled into the shadows. He waited beneath the frame of an anonymous second year's bed and watched as Ross and Finly's feet moved by. Their steps made large tremors which Demitrius was painfully aware of, and he fought the instinct to move further back.
Thankfully, neither boy had seen an unusually large, black tarantula skitter into the darkness as they entered their dorm. Demitrius listened to what he could of their conversation. Even their whispers left strange reverberations on the air, and he could sense their anticipation. Demi reached out a pair of feelers to test the atmosphere. Anticipation, fading excitement and energy. The actual words the boys were using were impossible to decipher in this form; His hearing was incredibly bad as a spider.
It was a true testament to Demitrius' intelligence that he was able to take on this form at fifteen, but what was simply remarkable was that he'd been able to do it for about two years. After his father's untimely departure from the world of the living, Demitrius had still spent his summers at Hogwarts, and after unwittingly making some blithe comment to McGonagall about fancying transfiguration, soon found himself her guinea pig of sorts. Not that he minded. The gift of being an unregistered animagus had had more than a few uses in his time. Usually in situations far more dangerous than the one he was faced with now.
Demitrius waited for the vibrations on the air to die down before he ventured from his hiding place. Soundwaves still surrounded him, from snoring and breathing, but they held none of the same 'danger! Large animal!' warnings that the previous ones did. Like any proud Slytherin, Demi was quite poisonous, and he fought against the urge to bite the hand dangling across the side of Ross' bed. He wanted to punish them, not kill them.
For safety's sake Demitrius waited until he was positive his two targets were sound asleep before changing back. Sinewy black limbs twisted together into arms and legs, as his multiple beady eyes formed back into the pair of dark orbs he was used to. Coarse black hair grew soft and retreated to the safety of his scalp. Again the world was distorted, as his senses changed, and the once enormous surroundings grew small and normal again. Then it was quick work to exact his punishment upon the two boys. He wasn't even thinking, really, when he left behind the pair of calling cards at the foot of their beds. It was what was ordinarily done, and by the time it was all through, he really was tired.
So it was that a considerably less guarded, and considerably more jaded Demitrius actually did fall into his bed, and directly off to sleep. His dreams were filled with screaming. Thus, it was not entirely hard to understand when one more failed to wake him up in the morning. Actually, it was the second high-pitched scream, and the shuffling of the seventh- years around him that finally did it. The door to the dormitory was swung open by a rather energetic-looking fourth year Slytherin girl. "You guys have got to come and see this!" She said, and leaving the door open, dashed back off.
"Well damn, what's that noise?" One of the older boys grumbled. Demitrius sat up, trying very hard to look just as baffled as everyone else, and succeeding marvellously. He grumbled about interrupted sleep as he threw his sheets away and staggered down to the Common Room. There, amidst the familiar dim light and cold green furniture, Finly and Ross were sitting, looking absolutely horrified. And they had a right to be. Most of their fellows were pointing and laughing, but a few looked very scared and suspicious. Brutus Fitsgibbons was pounding the floor with a meaty fist as tears streamed down his cheeks, howls of mirth erupting from him.
Demitrius raised an eyebrow at him and his two victims. Each were clutching a piece of paper tightly in ghost-white hands and looking purely mortified. "Oi, what's that?" The Slytherin fourth-year from before asked, and yanked one of the parchments from Ross. There was a sudden quiet as everyone waited for her to read what it said. She cleared her throat. "It says: Slytherin Reformation. You Have Been Reformed!" She told them, and a new burst of laughter exploded from the Slytherins. Demi joined in, but it was entirely false now. Had he been thinking at all last night he wouldn't have even considered leaving the calling cards.
"Well, that's one way of putting it!" A first year declared, glancing at Ross and Finly. Demitrius allowed himself a small smirk at that. Even he had to admit, the words had never seemed quite so appropriate before. It just proved his subconscious had a fairly twisted sense of humour.
Suddenly the laughter ceased as the Head of House marched through the door to the Common Room, looking extremely put-out. "What is all this noise about?" He demanded silkily. There was a pause. Then, every single arm present was soon pointing at Finly and Ross, who seemed to be trying very hard to melt into their seats. Snape started. There was a pause as he looked at the pair with a very dark scowl. "Alright, you two go up to Pomfrey's, and be quick about it." He said. Like lightning the pair dashed up and out of the Common Room. Snape turned to follow them, but paused. "When I find out who had the poor sense to turn Finly and Ross into girls, I can assure their punishment will be most unpleasant." He warned.
It wasn't until after he was gone that the uproar returned, and once again, there wasn't a student present who could stop laughing. Well, except Demitrius, of course. After what he deemed to be an appropriate amount of time he returned to his new dorm and got ready for the day. Leaving the cards had to be the most moronic thing he had done since his arrival. He hadn't planned on re-starting the SR at all, and he wasn't quite sure what would be the best step to take next. Never do it again? Go full-out and bring back his old group? Demitrius had to quell even more painful memories at that thought. The Reformation would be a hard thing to recreate without Marcus.
"The looks on their faces, it was priceless!" One of the seventh years was saying as he came in, followed by the others. "Wonder who did it?" He asked aloud.
"Well, it had to be at least a really smart sixth year. People graduate not knowing that kind of transfiguration!" Another reasoned. "Especially being good enough to do it in a single night." He added. Demitrius decided to fuel the fires of curiosity a little.
"What makes you so sure it was done in a night?" He asked. There were a few chuckles all around.
"C'mon, those two are dense, but even they would notice if they slowly started changing genders!" The seventh year from before insisted.
"Now, hang on Kevin, he might have something. What was that potion Snape was telling us about last month? You know, the one that he said was the closest he'd come to teaching us a Love Potion?" One of the other boys, who'd been silent until now, asked.
"Oh yeah, I remember that one. It turns whatever you use it on into your romantic dream. Er, so, that would mean some pretty perverted Slytherin's been going around." Kevin said, looking a little nervous. "And that they're a seventh year." He added for good measure.
"I can just see it now, some twisted freak brewing a secret potion in Snape's lab." Another boy added as he got ready for breakfast. Demitrius bit back a smirk. This was perfect, now they were convinced it was a potion, which pulled him directly out of suspicion. He left the dorm completely unnoticed as the older boys continued to make their speculations. No doubt the conclusions drawn from that little conversation would spread like wildfire through the Slytherins.
~
Snape managed to get Ross and Finly to Pomfrey, who said they would have to miss their first few classes while she reversed their condition. He was out of the infirmary and on his way down to breakfast before he let the rather chilling smile that had been tugging on his lips for the past fifteen minutes have it's way. There wasn't a chance that a non-Slytherin had pulled this little prank off. Which meant, that somewhere, one of his students was much more skilled than they let on. Suddenly an image of Septimus flashed into his mind. Snape frowned. Surely it couldn't have been him? The boy was only a fifth year. He looked bright enough, but transfiguration wasn't a subject one easily excelled at. And the method used had, indeed, been transfiguration. Poppy Pomfrey confirmed it as she bustled around the two boys-er, girls, talking about dangerous pranks and such.
'No, more than likely they managed to get on the bad side of a seventh year.' Snape thought, and put the issue aside as he reached the main hall. The Slytherin table was alive with murmurs that soon spread out, carried by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff alike to finally reach Gryffindor. Replacing his smile with his typical foreboding sneer, Snape took his seat at the table. Professor Granger sat a few seats down, reading a book as she chewed on her toast. "Morning." She said distractedly, and Snape made a polite nod of assent. He looked at what she was reading. 'One Hundred and Twenty Ways to Avoid Dying at the Hands of a Rather Nasty Evil Monster'. Well, that was quite the title. A bit redundant too.
"Good Morning Hermione, Severus." McGonagall said as she took her usual seat next to Granger. Again, Snape merely nodded, as Hermione lowered her book and let loose a rather radiant smile.
"Good morning Professor, did you sleep well?" She asked. 'Still quite the kiss-up, aren't we, Granger?' Snape thought darkly as he placed a few strips of bacon on his plate. Of course, her being a Gryffindor, there was the slim little chance that she might actually care as well. Snape wasn't sure which was worse. But McGonagall smiled and nodded, reminded Hermione to call her Minerva, and the two started talking about the third years' and how this batch seemed unusually bright. A very optimistic way of looking at it. Snape himself was just convinced that last years' were amazingly dense, thus placing their average predecessors in a brighter light. He then ignored the rest of their conversation and thought instead about the potion brewing in his office. Tonight he and Granger would finish it, and then it would be her responsibility to make sure it was administered.
"Oh, that reminds me dear, would you believe I have him first class?" McGonagall said, and Snape popped out of his little potions world.
"Really? I bumped into him at the library the other day. You know, I think he's probably very intelligent." Hermione said. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they were talking about, especially since the two women had now turned to look at the Slytherin table. Hermione twisted her slender frame, and a lock of thick, healthy brown hair fell away, revealing the gentle curve of her neck. Snape blinked. He had never noticed how soft her skin looked before.
'And why would you?!?' His brain screamed, snapping him out of his careful observations. He shook his head and summoned up the image of a twelve-year- old Granger helping Longbottom keep his cauldron from melting, all ungainly from childish growth spurts, little more than a mess of frizzy hair and big front teeth. Any thoughts of soft skin were quickly banished from his mind and Snape relaxed.
He watched as young Demitrius noticed he was being observed, and turned slightly towards the head table. Before Hermione and McGonagall could pretend they hadn't been looking, he offered up a small wave and a smirk. Snape noticed he was sitting next to Fitsgibbons. And, as he had been the day before, was doing a very splendid job of ignoring him. Snape scowled. He also had the boy in his classes today, some time after lunch. What would that be like, he wondered? Was he still teaching Potions seventeen years from now? He barely managed to repress a shudder at the decidedly unpleasant thought. Another seventeen years stuck dealing with idiots and skulking around his dungeons. Well, it wasn't entirely ludicrous, was it? Just. Unpleasant. His Slytherin ambition was decidedly put-out at the prospect.
And something more was bothering him. 'Septimus' was a decidedly wizard name, it was old enough, and held none of the same adaptations most muggle ones did. However, last evening he had paid a little visit to the genealogy section of the library, and managed to pull up absolutely nothing. The last wizard to bear the name Septimus was a squib, who died having no spouse or children. Which meant that either young Demitrius was a muggle-born with a very unlikely name, or else he was lying. Snape frowned. Lying could mean one of two things. Either he wasn't at all who he said he was, or he didn't want people knowing his real name, likely due to some obvious connection with the future. Snape favoured the former idea. He'd never fancied time-travel, and the way Malfoy had looked at the boy. It left a lot of questions, didn't it?
"I don't have him until tomorrow." Hermione said, somewhat downcast. Then all conversations and musings stalled as the headmaster arrived, and the typical polite round of greetings were applied.
"Albus." Snape said, and Dumbledore beamed his twinkling smile in his direction. He then returned his attention to his plate to keep from being involved in any unnecessary conversation. It seemed fate did not agree with leaving him to his quiet thoughts.
"Headmaster? What was Draco Malfoy doing here the other day?" Hermione asked. Snape barely suppressed a snort, and wondered how someone so seemingly bright could miss the obvious. Especially considering that she'd been right there for the incident. But how on earth did she know Malfoy had been here? She'd gotten her notes from him, and hadn't shown up at lunch at all. He fixed Granger with a calculating look. Curious.
"Oh, he just popped by to ask after Demitrius, I'm afraid. No need to worry. I'm certain now that he's been formerly introduced the aurors will relax a bit." Dumbledore said. Hermione looked decidedly unhappy, but said nothing. Murmurs were going around everywhere about the mysterious boy from the future now, mingled with the comments that were undoubtedly about Finly and Ross' little incident. A childish prank that would soon enough become a celebrated accomplishment. Snape tuned out the rest of the conversations for that morning and thought about his classes instead. He wasn't sure what to make of the situations his life was creating at the moment, but he knew one thing. Not a single one could lead to anything good.
~
They moved the Transfiguration classroom. Demitrius frowned as he stood outside what was obviously Charms, cursing that idiot Fitsgibbons for chasing after those female Ravenclaws. He turned and started back down the way he had come. If Charms was where Transfiguration should be, then maybe they'd just switch spots in a few years or something. Of course it would always be preferable if he ran into someone who would do more than just stare at him in awe, or whatever it was. He was starting understand how Potter must have felt, unpleasant notion that it was.
In the end he wound up ten minutes late for class. In his own time, McGonagall would have bitten his head off. Of course, the odds of him loosing his bearings in his own time were slim, since he'd grown up running around Hogwarts. As it was she fixed him with a firm glare when he took his seat. A few of his fellow Slytherins and some of the nearby Gryffindors were snickering quite audibly. "Glad you could join us, Mr. Septimus." McGonagall said in a scolding tone. Demi shrugged and leaned into his chair. He wasn't bloody well going to confess to getting lost, now, was he? "That will be five points from Slytherin." She reprimanded, before turning back to the class.
Demitrius soon found himself absolutely and completely stunned. They would be trying to transfigure their desks into goats. He looked around the classroom in surprise. Goats. Not swords, not shields, not moving projectiles or armed bodyguards. Granted the effects of transfiguration were useful, but what in the hell was the merit of having a goat?!? What, would they distract Voldemort with it? He snorted, a little more loudly than he should have, and McGonagall looked at him in surprise. "Is there a problem, Mr. Septimus?" She inquired, folding her arms at her sides and giving him a stern look. Demi paused. Well, now that she'd mentioned it, there was a problem. But how to get the point across without seeming rude? He thought for a moment, before pulling out his wand, and pointing it at his desk. She hadn't given them any real instructions yet, but he was going to assume a goat could be produced along the same lines as a dog or cat.
Demitrius muttered a few words under his breath, and there was a small flash from his wand. Transfiguration and Potions. Fields he excelled in, and both seemed to be part of his genetic make-up, not that he minded. With a loud 'snap' the desk disappeared and was replaced by a rather placid- looking sheep. Demi frowned. "Well, damn." He said. He'd wanted a goat, not a sheep, but by the look of utter shock on McGonagall's face he'd gotten the point across. It took a few seconds for her to recover, and even longer for the other students in the class to snap their jaws shut. At McGonagall's expectant look, Demi shrugged.
"Barnyard animals aren't really my thing." He said, by way of excuse for producing the wrong mammal. "I think the classes I used to be taking had slightly different priorities." Demitrius added. McGonagall glanced at his sheep, and with a flick of her wrist, turned it back into a desk.
"Come with me, please." She said, and turned to head for her office at the back of the classroom. Demi shrugged and followed her. He soon realised that she'd come to change her office over the course of seventeen years. Not surprising, really. He looked around the spacious room as she pulled the door shut behind him. Books on Transfiguration lined shelves that were attached to the higher parts of the walls. Papers lay in neat and tidy stacks upon her desk. There were a few baubles and knick-knacks here and there, but none of the photographs Demitrius was used to. No smiling images of his mother or twinkling pictures of Dumbledore, though there was one of a group of young Gryffindors with the house cup. Demi didn't really recognise them, but one looked suspiciously like Potter.
He didn't have long to enjoy his little comparison before McGonagall fixed her very penetrating gaze on him. "Well, Mr. Septimus." She began. Demitrius fought back a smile, as he knew exactly where this was going. Sure enough McGonagall's stern look melted away into one of pleased admiration. "How exactly did you learn to do such advanced transfiguration with hardly any effort?" She asked. Demitrius raised an eyebrow.
"My apologies, but I'm afraid I can't divulge that information." He said. McGonagall made a sound similar to 'hmm' and moved to her desk. Reaching under, she pulled open a drawer, and after going through just a few papers produced a very odd looking chart. It was scaled like a pyramid, with very fine lines of alternating colour racing up it. Each line had a percentage one it, starting at the bottom with 'couldn't turn water into ice' and ending at the top with 'better than you, Minerva'. Demitrius waited expectantly as she held up the chart.
"Point your wand at the paper, please, Mr. Septimus." She informed him firmly. With a shrug Demi did as he was told, aiming the tip at the center of the page. Immediately it swooped up the little pyramid, quite outside his control, to touch one of the higher lines. McGonagall pulled the page away as the line began to glow. Underneath it was written 'bloody well better than a fifth year should be'. Demitrius couldn't really place the look on her face. Somewhere between startled, happy, and extremely curious. He decided to offer up a little information. After all, if he was going to change the future, he would need to start dropping some hints.
"In my time it's more important that we be as highly skilled as we can." He said. "Transfiguration is something I have a natural aptitude for." Demitrius explained, and with a 'hmm' of interest McGonagall returned the chart to it's proper place.
"Well, obviously your ahead of the rest of the class." She told him. Demi shrugged. That was true in both times, so it wasn't really news to him. "In fact, the only student I can remember showing such a natural skill for quite some time was Professor Granger. Considering her circumstances, it would not have been wise to move her education along too quickly. But, in your case." McGonagall trailed off, looking at him with consideration. Demitrius cleared his throat.
"In my time I'm a little ahead as well, so y-er, the professor allowed me some time to my own personal studies." He offered. McGonagall looked like she was about to say something scathing before he cut her off. "To do with Transfiguration, of course." Demi added. He'd almost let 'you' slip on purpose. It would be good to indicate a connection between himself and McGonagall, as it might help her to trust him more.
"Well, I was thinking more along the lines of moving you ahead a grade in classes." She told him. Demitrius sighed.
"That wouldn't do much, I think I'd still be a bit on the advanced side. Unless you increased the difficulty of the classes, of course." He explained. Then he looked at her somewhat meaningfully. "Better skills would be far from a bad thing." Demitrius added. There was a pause as he and the professor both looked at each other, weighing one another's minds. After a time there came a knock on the door.
"Professor? Mallory's turned himself into a duck." A rather amused and nervous voice said, muffled by the thick wood of the door. McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I'll be there in a minute Miss Craig." She called. Then she turned to Demitrius. "Alright, Mr. Septimus, we'll continue this discussion later. Until then I suggest you find a good book and start reading." She informed him, before marching out the doorway, where a duck Demi could only assume was 'Mallory' had begun quacking quite loudly.
~
In his office at the Ministry, Draco Malfoy scowled down at his desk. No one from any of the usual power families had a boy at Hogwarts who matched the description he'd given. And just this morning, he'd received an owl from Ethan Fitsgibbons, a low-ranking Death Eater who owed Lucius Malfoy a few favours. Apparently his son had informed him that a Hogwarts student from the future had accidentally used an illegal time-travel device.
Lowering a hand, Draco began to finger the edge of the message Fitsgibbons had sent him. This news was more than a little interesting. 'The boy's going by the name of Demitrius Septimus.' A line on the parchment said. Draco didn't need to look twice to know it was a wizard's name, he'd been raised to observe such things, but he also didn't need to double-check anything to know that there were no Septimus' in power now. And the way he had looked... He narrowed his eyes, remembering the brief scene at Hogwarts' main hall. The brisk stride and the manner in which he held himself. The look in his gaze, the same dark, decidedly unremarkable black hair. Malfoy sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. If that boy was really from the future, then all the signs pointed to one, undeniable thing.
His father had been right about Severus Snape.
A/N: Ha! See, I have this running theory that Malfoy's actually not a, ya know, complete idiot. From now on I'll be announcing my updates on WIKTT, but if there's anyone who wants a heads-up and isn't part of the group, you can let me know in a review. Shout-outs are below.
RoseFyre - Thanks, and you got it.
Jordan - Okay, thanks!
Silene Acaulis - Glad you enjoyed it. Wow, you've got a really neat name! It's good to know that I'm managing to be original with a very over-done plot-base. (
pigwidgeon37 - Yay, you are so nice! Such wonderful things you say about my story, and you recommended it to others, too! *Hugs until she turns purple* I'm glad you think the idea of Draco as an Auror isn't completely proposterous, and that 'Mione's in character. (Been trying really hard to keep it that way!! ^_^) You must really like my story if you told other people to read it, too, and I'm so happy I think I could burst. Hope chapter four was up to par, and thanks a million times over! Yay! :D
calicat - You're welcome, glad you're enjoying the story! Such praise! I'm sure I've made a few mistakes, but I'm glad they aren't blatantly obvious. Thanks for the review.
MadAboutHarry - Evil cliffies!!! Mwahahahaha! But, now I've updated, so I hope you enjoyed chapter four.
Jessicat1982 - Yay, you know, I'm pretty glad Susanna recommended my fic too. I tried really hard to keep Malfoy Malfoy-ish, so it's great that someone's noticed, as it means I haven't royally screwed up. As for Demi's future... Well, that remains to be seen, doesn't it? ^_~ Hope to see you around!
RowanRhys - Wow, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I thought it was about time someone shook things up a bit with Snape's kid too, and thanks for noticing, it's been a blast to work on this project so far. I'm glad you like Demi's name, and Demi himself, too. Personally I'm quite proud; Who knew there was such potential for a cool wizard in Snape and Hermione's son? I hope you enjoyed reading chapter two, I love it when people give me nice long reviews like that! So nice! :D
(No Name) - Gee, wish I knew who it was who liked that fork bit, I'm pretty pleased with the line myself. Oh well. Mystery-person, thanks for reviewing!
Scarlet - Glad you like it. Since I'm now a part of WIKTT, I'll be announcing my updates there.
Beth Ann - Ah, such praise, I'm glad you think I'm doing a good job. I have been trying hard to keep everyone in character and stick to my plotline. Hope you liked chapter four!
Isa - Yay, flattery! I know, I'm so evil, leaving people hanging all the time :D
Witchy-grrl - Yay, glad to see you're so enthusiastic. I'm real fond of ol' Flitwick myself, the potential for comedic relief packed into one little genius... Why, it's mind-boggling! ^_^ Hope to see you keep reading, you're reviews are always great to see!
Aemos - Thanks! :D
Nicolette - I'm writing, see? See? Lol, thanks for reading, hope you liked chapter four! ^_^
Sonja S. - Thanks for the compliments, and I agree with you, it gets tiring to see 'Mione going back in time so often! You'd think a responsible gal like her would be better with that Time-Turner ^_~. Yeah, I think everyone's noticed that our little duet has girls more often than boys, which is why I'm happy to say I broke that mould! Yay! Hope you enjoyed chapter four!