Reminders: All characters belong to JKR. This story was written for the 2020 Dramione RomCom Fest and is a reworked take on "13 Going on 30." Thanks to my beta, dreamsofdramione! Hope you are all well and safe.
4.26.05
An incessant tapping woke him completely from a sound sleep. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was, but his eyes quickly focused on his bedroom, and his brain caught up.
It was an owl. Startled, he quickly got out of bed and let the bird in. A great big brown barn owl swooped into the room, landed on an owl perch in the corner, then held out his leg. Draco removed a letter and the owl nipped at his hand. He fished a few treats from a pouch hanging from the perch and broke the seal. He didn't recognize the handwriting on the outside, and his curiosity was piqued.
Draco,
I'm sorry to say that I won't be able to meet with you today. Some things came up with work and I can't get out of them. I'm awfully sorry. I wish I could have one of those delicious blueberry scones, but it will have to wait.
I'm assuming that next year, you'd have to come alone. We could go back there again? Send a reply with this owl.
I hope you have a lovely day with your son!
Sincerely,
Hermione
The disappointment he felt was severe, but he'd taken for granted that she'd always be able to get time off on the day he was there. In fact, it was pretty remarkable that she'd done it even once, not to mention six times so far.
His day was going to be considerably less interesting already, but Draco got dressed and went to view his memory in the Pensieve. It showed an unremarkable day of passing time in the house until the afternoon, when he went to the office and took Scorpius with him. He saw Astoria only briefly, in the morning, before she left for her birthday outing. In the memory, he saw that Scorpius would most likely be in her room, so when he withdrew from the Pensieve, he went straight there to look for him.
"Come in!" she called when he knocked.
"There you are!" Draco beamed when he saw his son, now eighteen months old, walking around Astoria's room and touching everything he could reach.
"Dada!" Scorpius's face split into a brilliant smile, and he ran across the room, straight into Draco's open arms. He put his hands on Draco's cheeks, his eyes flitting from one of Draco's to the other. "Hi, Dada."
It was all Draco could do not to squash his son in a fierce hug. "Hello, buddy. Are you ready for a day with Daddy?"
"Yesh!" he clapped his hands once then squirmed, letting Draco know that he wanted to get down.
Astoria was watching him with mild interest. "Thank you for the day trip to the French wine country, Draco. My sisters and I will love it." She went to the mirror and looked herself over. "Will you be joining us for dinner? In Paris, perhaps?" Catching his eye in the mirror, she arched an eyebrow in what he guessed was supposed to be a suggestive manner. "We could stay the night, just you and me."
Ah, right. This was still in the period where they occasionally slept together. His memory of this day, however, did not include that, a fact for which he was thankful.
"I'm afraid I can't tonight. There's a big presentation tomorrow I need to prepare for. I'll be taking Scorpius to the office with me this afternoon, and I'm not sure when I'll be done." In his memory, he had taken his son to work after lunch, and Matilda had watched Scorpius until Draco had put him down for a nap in his office and poured over reports for hours. He wanted to keep his day as intact as possible, and the last thing he wanted to do was join Astoria in Paris.
"That's too bad." Her eyes raked over him appreciatively. "Maybe you can make it up to me?"
Draco shrugged. "I'm sure we can work something out."
Astoria resumed primping in the mirror, then bustled about gathering her things for the day. After a moment, during which Draco amused himself by watching Scorpius inspect a drawer he had managed to open, she seemed to notice he was still there. "Draco, you may go."
He gritted his teeth but didn't say anything, instead, he swept Scorpius up in his arms. "Come on, Score. Let's leave Mummy to get ready for her fun day."
Scorpius waved to Astoria. "Bye, bye, Mummy!"
Draco didn't know quite what to do that morning, but when he glanced out the window of the breakfast room, he saw the line of trees at the far end of the property, the same area where his eight-year-old son wanted to build a tree fort. An idea struck him, and he grinned.
Scorpius was in his chair, contentedly eating his breakfast.
"We're going to do something different today, Score." He grinned at his son, then called for the house-elf. When she appeared, he was so excited he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Kippy. I need you to prepare a picnic lunch for Scorpius and I. We'll need sandwiches and some fruit, water—whatever else you can think of."
Kippy bowed her head. "And for dessert?"
Draco grinned; his elf knew him so well. "I'm sure that whatever you pack for us will be wonderful."
"Kippy will have it ready in seven minutes, Master." She disappeared.
When Scorpius was finished eating, Draco took him along while he packed a small bag for their outing. Scorpius only needed a few nappies and a change of clothes. For himself, Draco changed into something more casual—though at this point in his life, there weren't a lot of options. He also grabbed a towel and a blanket, which he would Charm to be waterproof, plus a pair of sunglasses.
"Ready, Buddy?" Draco took Scorpius by the hand and led him through the house.
With a toddler, it was a long walk across the grounds to reach the woods. Scorpius was pleasant enough, but he kept wanting to stop and look at everything along the way: rocks, grass, flowers, trees, bugs. Draco tried to be patient, but he was growing tired of carrying everything. After stopping for probably the fourteenth time, Draco shrunk everything but the food. That helped considerably, and he tried to remember that the journey was just as important for Scorpius as the destination.
When they reached the woods, their pace slowed even more. Finally, Draco scooped Scorpius into his arms and struggled through the dense underbrush for a few minutes before pulling out his wand and clearing a path. He found the creek without much difficulty and set Scorpius down on the bank. He went straight for the water, his face displaying extreme shock when he sat in the shallows. Draco dipped his fingers in and nearly gasped at how cold it was.
Scorpius had only ever been in warm water, and Draco considered taking him back or casting a Warming Charm, but once the initial shock wore off, Scorpius began splashing around. Draco smiled as he watched him, remembering that his eight-year-old had plunged into the water without hesitation. Draco spread out the blanket and sat down. He didn't need the sunglasses here; the creek was bordered by trees on both sides. He stretched his legs out in front of him, wishing that he had some shorts to wear. It wasn't long before Scorpius was finding rocks and bringing them over to show him.
They stayed by the creek all morning and ate their lunch together. Draco knew that, in his past, he never would have taken his son to play in a creek, and he couldn't recall when it had started. He remembered Scorpius asking one day, maybe when he was about four, to go play in the creek, and Draco had been surprised but had agreed—probably because he knew it would annoy Astoria to no end if she found out. He'd relished imagining the look on her face when Scorpius mentioned that he'd played outside, but then he'd been so surprised at how well his son had taken to the water, to the plants around the creek, and even to the creatures he'd found, that he'd quickly learned to enjoy the experience. They'd spent countless hours there together over the years.
He froze as a thought struck him. What if all of that had actually started today, with him taking an eighteen-month-old Scorpius to the creek because in the future, Draco had taken his older son? He shook his head with a hesitant chuckle.
Time was a tricky thing; he'd probably never know.
If he had to guess, though, he would put money on the option that what he was experiencing was real. Everything felt too real, and time passed just as it always did. If it were some sort of elaborate potion or Charm, wouldn't it feel like time moved differently? Either dragging too slowly or slipping past without him noticing? Instead, he could clearly remember the last eleven days in startling detail.
He had a fleeting idea to write them all down, but he didn't think it would do him any good at this point. Nothing he had with him when he went to sleep ever made the trip forward; he always woke up in different clothing, so anything he might try to put in a pocket would simply remain behind—and that wouldn't do for his past self to find.
However… yes, maybe he could hide a journal somewhere in the Manor, concealed both physically and magically. He'd done it with the Muggle money just fine. Then every year, he could write in it, and he'd find it waiting for him when he returned to his normal time. It would be wonderful to put down his experience in writing; Hermione had said she'd read his story, maybe others would, too.
It was certainly an unusual experience. Although, there was no way to confirm if it had happened before. Maybe it had. Maybe the people who went through it simply never spoke of it.
"Dada!"
Draco, who had been lost in thought and not paying attention, looked up just in time to watch his son pour a cup of ice cold creek water all over his stomach.
"Ahh!" Draco cried out from sheer shock at how cold the water was.
Scorpius jumped, alarmed, his big eyes looking at Draco.
Draco felt bad for startling him and smiled, pulling Scorpius onto his lap and kissing his head. "I'm all right, the cold was a big surprise. But now I'm all wet." He checked his watch. "And it's probably a bit past time to head back. I got distracted." He stood up and, with a sweep of his wand, packed their things. Now that the food was gone, he shrunk the picnic basket, too. "How about a ride on Daddy's shoulders?"
"Yesh!" Scorpius held his arms up.
Draco easily swung him onto his shoulders and started back for the house. Scorpius seemed to enjoy sitting up so high, if his laughs and giggles were anything to go by. The trip back went much quicker than the trip to the creek, and Draco hurried to change and get Scorpius ready to go.
When he arrived at the office with his son in tow, Matilda's whole face lit up.
"Oh, you've brought little Mr. Malfoy! What do you need me to do?" She reached her hands out and Scorpius instantly went to her.
"I think he'll nap soon, but if you could watch him for just a few minutes while I set up his sleeping area, that would be lovely." She'd already set Scorpius on her desk and he was examining the items on display.
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco headed down the hall toward his office and felt a strange sense of déjà vu. The entire office space, including the lobby and hallway, had been remodeled since the last time he was there. He'd seen it when he'd skimmed his memory of the day, but hadn't thought much of it. Now, though, standing in the hallway, he felt a strange sense of foreboding. Today would be the first time he'd set foot in the office as it had looked the day he was sent back.
He slowed down and listened at the door. He heard nothing, of course; Astoria was safely in France by now on her winery tour. Still, he slowly opened his door, his eyes darting immediately to where his desk stood in the dark. Draco walked over to it, examining the papers spread across the surface. Just as he'd seen in his memory, they were papers pertaining to the meeting the following morning.
But he left everything untouched and went to a large bookcase that stood on the wall opposite the door. Nothing on the shelves would help him, but in the cabinets below, he might just find what he was after.
Finally, on the fourth cabinet, he found a small stack of journals amongst the office supplies. Gingerly, Draco removed the top journal and shut the cabinet. Taking it to the austere sofa in his office, he sat down and opened the book, flipping through the pages to make sure they weren't used. Then he cast a series of spells to ensure that they hadn't been enchanted in any way.
All his spells came back clean.
With a sigh of relief, Draco collected a quill and ink bottle and took them back to the sofa. He'd just opened it to begin writing when Matilda walked in.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. He's awfully fussy."
Draco jumped up. "I completely forgot to set up his crib. You can set him down, I've got it from here. Thank you."
Scorpius must have known what was coming because as soon as Matilda put him down, he started bawling louder.
Draco hurried to set up the sleeping area he'd prepared many times before when he'd needed to bring Scorpius to the office. The crib was folded up nicely and tucked into a closet. Draco flicked his wand and it flew across the room, opening itself as it gently landed on the floor. Another series of flicks brought all of the bedding out of the closet and onto the bed.
Once the room was ready, Draco adjusted the blinds so they weren't shining directly into the crib. Then he turned out the lights in his office save for a single candle, which he set on the coffee table by the sofa.
Scorpius watched the flying furniture with fascination, his cries momentarily halted. Draco picked him up and set him on the sofa.
"Nap time, Score."
The boy's lower lip trembled and he rubbed his eyes. "I not tired, Dada."
Draco chuckled as he worked to change his nappy. Once Scorpius was clean and ready, Draco put him in the crib. "Daddy's right here. Sleep well, Score."
Thankfully, Scorpius's busy morning meant that he fell asleep quickly. Draco returned to the sofa and opened to the first page of the journal. He hesitated, wondering how to begin. He tried to imagine he was writing to Hermione rather than thinking about starting to write a book. Then the words began to flow, and he spent the entirety of Scorpius's nap writing.
He put everything onto the page, every feeling, every hope, every disappointment, starting from the day he'd walked in on Astoria and Theo.
That whole evening was devoted to the journal too as he sat beside the fireplace with a glass of Firewhiskey. Before heading to bed, he loosened a board beside the fireplace and slipped the journal into it. Then he fell asleep, excited to tell Hermione all about his work.
4.26.06
"Dada. Wake up."
Draco cracked an eye open and found his son staring at him, his face mere inches away. "Hey, Score."
"I let an owl in."
"You... What?"
Scorpius pointed at a perch in the corner. Sitting on it was a brown owl, similar enough to the one Hermione had sent the year before that his stomach lurched in anticipation.
"Oh. Thanks, Buddy." He pushed himself out of bed, and as soon as he was up, Scorpius crawled into his spot. Draco rubbed his head and yawned as he crossed the room. The owl held out its leg and Draco untied the note. As soon as he had the parchment, the owl flew out the open window.
Draco frowned, then shut the window after it. He felt extremely uneasy as he began to unfold the note.
Draco,
I'm sorry to say that I won't be able to meet with you anymore. I truly wish you all the best.
Hermione
He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He stared at the note, rereading it three times before finally crumpling it up.
"Dada? Was it a bad letter?"
Draco looked at his son, snuggled under the covers and peering at him with wide, brown eyes. He didn't really want to think about the letter just now, so he returned to the bed and smiled as he got in. "The letter just means I get to spend the whole day with you."
Scorpius's eyes lit up. "What are we going to do?"
"I think we'll go to the creek. After you tell your mother happy birthday."
Scorpius nodded very importantly. "Is it Mummy's birthday?"
"Yes. Today she's going on a cruise with her sisters. I don't think we'll see her again until tomorrow." Draco propped his head on his elbow and watched his son. Scorpius was thinking very carefully, his tiny brow furrowed with the effort.
"Sometimes I miss her. But I'm glad I have you, Daddy." With that, Scorpius snuggled close to Draco and within seconds, his breathing had evened out.
Draco let his head fall back onto the pillow. He had meant to try and go back to sleep, but now that Scorpius was sleeping beside him, his mind began to spin. He glanced at a clock on the wall to see that it wasn't even seven. Why had Hermione sent him an owl so early in the morning? It was as confusing as it was disappointing.
He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter, that he'd see her again once he caught up to himself, but the reality was, it stung. He'd thought their last day together had been one of the best, but then she'd canceled on him the previous year, and now it seemed as though she was finished with him. He thought back to that last day, when he'd taken Scorpius to meet her in the park, going over and over their conversation, looking for some clue as to why she'd backed away.
Nothing jumped out at him and, frustrated, he got out of bed to shower. Scorpius was just stirring when Draco returned to his room. Scorpius's bed, which had been brought into Draco's room about six months before, was across the room, the golden snitch sheets twisted and the pillow hanging off the bed, nearly touching the floor.
"Dada? Are we still going to the creek?"
Draco grinned at the sight of his son, hair sticking straight up where his head had been resting on the pillow. "Absolutely. Let's go see your mother first, and then we'll get ready to go."
ooo
Later, while Scorpius slept hard after spending four hours at the creek, Draco went to his study and found the piece of wood behind which he'd hidden the journal of his adventure the year before. He hadn't expected anything to happen to it, but there had been a small part of him that doubted whether it would still be there. He had no clue what was happening to him, and just because Hermione seemed to remember him from year to year didn't mean that anything else would change.
Still, it was a relief to find it right where he'd left it, and he took it out with a kind of reverence. He'd poured a little bit of himself into the pages, and he was ready to pick up the narrative where he'd left off. Scorpius's nap was another long one, and Draco barely paused in his writing the entire time.
After about three hours, Kippy came to tell him that Scorpius was awake. She had a stack of what looked like mail in her hand, and as she moved, something she was holding caught his eye. "Kippy, what have you got there?"
The elf held up the stack. "This is mail for Mistress Astoria, Sir. I was leaving it in her room when I heard the young Master wake."
"May I see it?" He held his hand out and Kippy gave it over. "Thank you, Kippy. I'll take this to her room myself, as I'm headed that way. Please stay with Scorpius until I arrive."
"Yes, Master." Kippy made a short bow and disappeared.
What had caught his eye was a copy of Witch Weekly, but that wasn't precisely what had drawn his attention. No, he'd seen a flash of big, brown eyes and a dazzling smile—a smile that looked awfully familiar. He almost didn't want to look for fear he would see something he wouldn't like. Yet he couldn't stop himself.
There, on the front page, was Hermione.
She was dressed in a blush colored dress, and her hair was pinned up in an elaborate hairstyle with diamonds flashing from the pins that held her beautiful curls in place. He could have stared at the photo all day as she smiled and waved shyly to the photographer. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only person in the photo. A tall wizard was beside her, and Draco recognized him immediately: Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The headline read: Has Hermione Granger Found Love at Last?
Everything in him screamed not to read the article, but he couldn't help himself. He skimmed it and learned that she and Krum had been seen together on multiple occasions, and according to the author of the article, she looked increasingly radiant in Krum's presence. The article went on to detail their history during the Triwizard Tournament and included a timeline of their renewed romance.
Draco felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs. He couldn't take his eyes off the picture of her, so beautiful, so radiant—just as the article had said. Merlin, how had it taken him so long in his own timeline to begin to notice her? She was stunning, and she probably had no idea how beautiful she was.
He was examining the timeline in more detail when he felt the back of his shirt being tugged.
"Dada?"
Draco turned around and swept his son into his arms. "Yes, Scorpius?" He immediately started tickling his son's tummy, and Scorpius giggled and tried to push his hand away. "What is it, Score? What did you want?" He continued to tickle him, grinning as Scorpius laughed and fought increasingly hard to keep Draco's hand away. "Why aren't you talking, Son?"
"Dada! Stop!" Draco's hand stilled and Scorpius's laughter subsided. "I want to watch you fly, Dada. Will you? Kippy and I will watch you fly."
He adopted a very stern yet exaggerated expression. "Oh, Score, you know how Daddy feels about flying, don't you?"
"Yes! You love flying! Grandfather Lucy gave you a new broom for Christmas, remember?"
Draco laughed out loud; it had been years since Scorpius had referred to Lucius as 'Grandfather Lucy.' He'd struggled with Lucious's name since he could talk. Draco and his mother had never been able to keep a straight face at the adorable moniker Scorpius had adopted. And so, the name had stuck, at least until Scorpius was old enough to realize that he'd been mispronouncing his grandfather's name and corrected it himself.
"That's right, he did. And I'd love to fly a little bit." He set Scorpius on the ground and took his hand. "Let's go."
ooo
That night, once dinner with Astoria was suffered through and Scorpius was asleep, Draco considered continuing the journal. He quickly dismissed this idea, however; he'd already devoted his afternoon to it. He realized, with a jolt of sadness, that he'd better find something to occupy himself, since he wouldn't be spending the day—or any foreseeable days—with Hermione. With a sigh, he realized it might be time to try and figure out just what had happened with Theo.
Maybe there was a clue in the past he could find; Theo hadn't suddenly decided one day to screw him over. There had to be a reason. The problem was, Draco had no idea where to begin looking.
Theo wasn't even an employee yet, so there was no personnel file to look through. He'd have to look again in a few years once he'd hired him.
Draco sat up. Even though Theo hadn't been hired yet, he still had his memories. Draco himself had interviewed his former friend after hearing that he was having trouble finding work. He'd reached out and offered Theo a chance. Quickly, he retrieved the Pensieve and drew out the pertinent threads. However, after watching his interactions with Theo over the years for an hour, nothing stood out except the initial interview. Theo had seemed extremely nervous, which Draco had concluded was because of the interview. Most people were nervous for job interviews, and Draco, as the head of the company, didn't normally conduct them. But he'd wanted to catch up with his friend a bit, and the conversation had gone quite well by the end.
Draco went to his father's study, thinking there might be something deeper at work. Lucius had been a Death Eater who'd escaped relatively unscathed, mainly because he hadn't fought in the final battle. Most of those who had been apprehended had served or were still serving long prison sentences, and their fortunes were severely depleted thanks to reparations demanded by the Ministry. The Malfoys had paid theirs and then some, and it hadn't significantly affected their vaults.
Of course their penalty had been smaller than many, largely due to Narcissa's role in the whole thing. She'd stated in her trial that she wanted to be part of the rebuilding effort, which is why they'd ended up giving three times what they'd been required to pay.
Narcissa made sure they were the first to donate to any needy causes, anonymously, though by now, everybody knew where the over large sums came from.
Theo's father had fought beside Voldemort to the very end, and his sentence had been harsh. He had only been out of prison for three years in Draco's present, but he was still on probation and not allowed to leave the country; in this time, he was still safely locked away.
Draco sighed, his eyes drifting over everything in his father's desk. He didn't use this room, had never even entered it, preferring to leave it undisturbed until his father might be allowed to return. A quick glance at the desktop revealed nothing obvious, so he decided to look inside of it.
As he neared the desk, however, he felt something in the air around him, as though he'd walked through a strong ward. Instantly on alert, he pulled out his wand and waited. When nothing happened, he cast a basic spell for detecting dark magic, but again, nothing happened. He felt drawn to the desk, however, and it occurred to him that it was possible his father had been the one to place the wards.
Cautiously, he started going through the drawers, hoping something would stand out to him.
When he opened the bottom right drawer, he felt another ripple of magic, and his heart rate quickened. He had to force his hands to remain steady as he pulled out a packet of papers bound together by a spell that manifested as a shiny, magical ribbon.
He used his wand to slice the ribbon, and it disappeared with a little burst of sparks. On the very top was a detailed checklist and inventory of everything in the small stack. The checklist listed only business related things—budgets, personnel files, a diagram of the business structure, a list of holdings, etc.—so he didn't spend much time on it. Setting that aside, he began to carefully sift through the rest. Everything appeared perfectly ordinary, though clearly there was some sensitive information included, documents Lucius had only wanted his son to see. Nothing seemed even remotely helpful until he came to an envelope with his name on it wedged between some financial reports. He recognized his father's handwriting, and his pulse picked up.
Sliding open the seal, Draco removed the contents, comprising a leaf of parchment—a letter to him from his father—and a handful of smaller notes. His eyes widened as he read what his father had written him so many years before.
-ooo-ooo-ooo-
Draco,
This must stay out of any records. I've included all of the correspondence sent by Bradford Nott. In short, he approached me some time ago, reminding me that, at one time, he had been in line to take over Malfoy Industries in England, should something happen to me.
This was many years ago, before you were born and then when you were small. There was always the understanding, at least in my mind, that, should I have a child, the leadership would fall that way. Nott, however, did not accept this. He wrote to me when my sentence was pronounced, suggesting that I should turn the business over to him, since I would no longer be able to oversee it. I refused, thinking one day you would take control. He didn't like that and suggested his son could work in his place, since he would be spending the next decade in Azkaban. Naturally, I refused again, reminding him that I had a son fully capable and equal to the task.
You can see from his messages, which I stopped responding to, that his anger grew and his suggestions began to sound more like threats. I took some precautions to ensure that he couldn't interfere with you, but very little in this world is certain. I'm telling you this so you can be forewarned. Keep an eye on Nott when he is released from prison. If he ever gives you trouble, write to me immediately.
I know that you are immensely capable of taking charge of the company, and I have every faith in you. I also know that this isn't what you'd hoped for your life, and it is my fervent desire that you won't be asked to run the company forever. I will be working from France to reverse my banishment, and it is my goal to return home someday—though I cannot possibly say when that might be.
If you ever need anything, you have but to ask.
Sincerely,
Your Father
-ooo-ooo-ooo-
Draco stared at the paper, his thoughts spinning. Could this be Theo's motivation? His father felt slighted by Lucius, and as revenge, he came in and somehow wrested the company from Draco?
He knew the pressures of expectation, and he knew Theo's family was a lot worse off than his own. It would make sense for him to try and take what he felt was rightfully his, even though, of course, it wasn't. Theo's father apparently believed that Lucius had wronged him, and Theo would certainly believe his own father. Draco knew too well about that.
Before any shred of sympathy for Theo could develop, Draco remembered the day he'd caught his former friend with Astoria. There had been no remorse in his eyes, only defiance, a dare to say something.
He'd need to check in on Theo in the future if at all possible. Though, knowing the motivation still wasn't enough to help him understand how he did it.
The real question was, did it matter? There was likely nothing Draco could do to stop it. He only had one day a year, and in that time, he'd have to figure out what Theo did and somehow find a way to prevent it. The thought was daunting; what could he possibly do in a day?
But he wasn't sure he even wanted to, if he was honest with himself. It had never been his life goal, as his father mentioned, and if he prevented Theo's treachery, what would happen to his own future?
He might never have occasion to stumble upon Theo and Astoria; Theo might never somehow take over the company. Who knows if or when he'd have woken up from the nightmare that was his life?
Draco carefully folded all of the notes from Nott Sr. and tucked them inside Lucius's letter. With no regrets, he tucked everything back into the drawer where he'd found it. It felt really good to finally put the issue behind him; he was curious, of course, but even if he knew, he wouldn't change a thing.
4.26.07
Draco hadn't really expected a note from Hermione when he woke, but he had hoped for one nonetheless. He was up early, awake before Scorpius, who was still sleeping in his bed across the room. Draco relished the quiet so he could come to terms with this change in his fortunes without being interrupted every two minutes. He loved his son, naturally, but children weren't often content to let their parents have long stretches of uninterrupted time to think.
Hermione hadn't been with Krum in the future. He knew for a fact that she was single the entire time she was Scorpius's teacher. She might have dated here and there, but nothing ever made headlines. Of course, he hadn't kept tabs on her dating life then—though, now he wished he had. Had Krum broken her heart? He remembered how much Krum had fancied Hermione that year at Hogwarts, how he had asked everyone in Slytherin about her. They'd all been hesitant to say anything negative about her for fear of alienating the Quidditch star.
Then, a thought struck him which made his blood feel like ice in his veins.
What if, through befriending her, he had changed the course of her life? What if she'd never start the school? What if she'd find love and Draco would end up in his timeline only to discover that she was happily married with children?
It would be a cruel twist to bring him to the point where he wanted to fall in love with her, only to discover that she was completely out of his reach.
The good thing was, his time with Scorpius was truly a gift, as he'd told Hermione before. He was happy spending his time with his son, and he resolved to make this the best creek trip ever.