Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. This fanfiction is for writing practice only and no money will be made.
A/N #1: Starting with the July 31 entry the older, time/dimension hopping Harry will start referring to himself as Draco, both to avoid confusion with younger Harry and for other reasons which have been hinted at already and which will become clearer as the story progresses.
I'm not happy with the August 28 entry. I meant to post this chapter a couple of days ago but was struggling with that portion of it. I finally threw in the towel under the theory that something is better than nothing.
HPDM HPDM HPDM
Malfoy Manor, June 5, 1991
It was Draco's birthday party and Harry was miserable. His party was like a Slytherin House reunion, though it was smaller and more muted than planned following his father's recent death.
Crabbe and Goyle were both there. They were stuffing their faces with cake which for them was relatively inoffensive. They each had given him Cannon's memorabilia. A book and a jersey. He thanked them profusely, but left the gifts in the box unopened. Maybe he could re-gift them to Ron.
Theodore Nott was sitting in his corner, his nose in a book. His gift had been another book, a series of short biographies of history's great Arithmancers. Knowing that the prat would actually go on to create actual true time turners, he wasn't surprised to see that Theo's interest in the subject had started so early.
Still, he reminded himself to make sure that Theo and this timeline's Hermione did not get to know each other. This timeline's version of Harry didn't need the competition, plus the two of them might accidentally blow up the world if they got carried away with their Arithmancy equations. Better to keep the geniuses far apart.
He might give this book to this timeline's version of himself and compel him to read it. He was fairly sure Hermione, regardless of timeline, would swoon if a boy began discussing Arithmancy or Ancient Runes with her.
Zabini was doing a fantastic job keeping the Greengrass girls occupied. He was regaling them with stories of his travels in southern Italy. Truth be told, his narration sounded interesting. He wished he could pay more attention to it.
He didn't know them well in his original timeline, but he did remember that the Greengrass sisters were among the Slytherins that Slughorn had led back to hit Riddle's forces from the side. He was sure that Zabini had fled rather than fight for either side, which was an improvement over most of Slytherin House.
Listening in on their conversation, he actually thought they were very nice. Zabini was funny, Daphne spoke using only a few words and was always serious, while Astoria was a firecracker. They were heads and shoulders above the level of conversation he had enjoyed with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle.
What was driving Harry spare was Pansy Parkinson. Lucius had arranged a betrothal between Pansy and Draco between their third and fourth years, in his original timeline. Negotiations had already been underway when Lucius died. Narcissa had broken them off, and had quietly entered into discussions with Amelia Bones. The Parkinsons must have not gotten the memo, considering how Pansy was hanging off his arm, chattering inanely in his ear the entire time.
He did his best to appear interested while at the same time creating space between himself and Pansy. His efforts had so far proven futile. The girl was like the German Blitzkrieg, overrunning positions and violating borders while her victim was unprepared and unaware.
He almost felt sorry for his timeline's version of Draco. Almost.
The worst part was that he could not just rip into her and express his displeasure. His mother was subtly encouraging him to make nice with Pansy. She did not want to overly offend the Parkinsons, if it could be avoided. If keeping his mother happy required him to keep Pansy happy, he could grin and bear it.
"And so I was telling Millicent . . .," Pansy stopped abruptly. Both her arms were wrapped around Harry's arm. He had narrowly avoided her trapping his wand arm, though he still did not have a wand of his own. Still he focused on keeping it free. Allowing his wand arm to be immobilized would be a bad habit to get into. "Draco, are you even paying attention to me?"
"Of course, Pansy," he replied distractedly. He wondered if he could somehow get her to join Zabini's group. "You were telling me about your conversation with Millie."
Her expression grew frosty. "How is it that Bulstrode is Millie to you, Draco? I did not think the two of you were so close."
Harry froze. He'd forgotten his pureblood etiquette. A gentleman did not refer to a lady by her first name unless they were friendly. He did not ever refer to her by a pet name, unless they were especially close and even then not in the presence of company.
He visualized Millicent. No, that was not a relationship he ever wanted to pursue. There was a reason it was rumored she was part troll. Though she had proven rather a pleasant person towards the end, and a fair hand at potions.
Dredging up Draco's memory of etiquette lessons, he scrambled for a response. There wasn't a good one. He decided to go with the old tried and true Potter charm. It had never worked for him but, according to Sirius, his father had it in abundance.
"I'm sorry, Pansy. I wasn't thinking. I was just worried when I heard Bulstrode couldn't make my party because she was sick. I forgot myself."
That was obviously the wrong track to take. Her face hardened as she turned her nose up and flounced off towards Theo. He sighed and turned his attention back to Zabini's conversation with the Greengrasses.
He did his best to ignore his mother's small frown of disapproval and enjoyed his momentary relief. Mr. Parkinson frowned, he wasn't sure whether at him or his daughter, while the other parents continued on with their conversation as if oblivious to the spat in process on the other side of the room.
Harry decided to ignore them all. He was not wise in the ways of eleven year old girls, or even forty year old women, but he suspected that like her older counterparts she was merely testing his boundaries. She'd be back. Unfortunately.
Malfoy Manor, July 5, 1991
The prisoner known as Sirius Black had arrived at the Manor late last night. His mother had refused when he asked to stay up to meet his former godfather. Security was tight and the aurors wanted no unnecessary distractions as they tied Sirius into the Malfoy house wards.
The Ministry had been very publicly embarrassed by Narcissa Malfoy. Rather than follow the well traveled path of so many before her, Narcissa did not hand Fudge a bag of gold to release Sirius Black or grant him a trial. Instead, over the course of a single day, she sat down for a half dozen newspaper and magazine interviews, followed by an hour long interview over the Wizarding Wireless.
The beautiful and poised Lady Malfoy, still riding a wave of public support following the unfortunate accidental death of her philanthropist husband, was pitch perfect in each interview. The theme was the same during each.
Narcissa stated that her cousin had never had a trial. While confinement without trial under the Emergency War Powers Act was lawful, Sirius Black was the only prisoner not to have eventually received one. Why would senior ministry officials eventually grant trials to the other 117 wizards and witches previously held under the Act, but not Sirius?
She heavily implied that political corruption was the root of the decision not to try Sirius, as he was the Heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. That status was the only thing that distinguished him from all the other magicals who had eventually been tried, other than Sirius also being the godfather to Harry Potter.
She never tried to claim that Sirius was innocent. When asked she simply responded she did not know. She did, however, express concern on how a child's sworn godfather could ever betray his godson and remain alive, let alone keep his magic. It wasn't hard to connect the dots.
This led to the clear conclusion that ministry officials were either specifically targeting the heirs of noble or ancient houses or, worse, that they were targeting the legal guardian of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.
She heavily implied that one of the most senior members of government would rather the Potter heir be raised by muggles, and if that meant a child's godfather and a heir of a noble or ancient house was never given a trial, then so be it. The name Dumbledore was never said, but enough was said that wizarding Britain knew exactly who she was talking about.
The journalists were quick to cast the lack of trial as proof that this unnamed senior government official actually believed Black to be innocent. After all, if he thought him guilty Black would have had a trial and been lawfully imprisoned, with no chance that Harry would be removed from his muggle relatives.
Narcissa, towards the end of each interview and tears flowing liberally, expressed her fear for Sirius Black's life, now that it was known he was possibly being targeted for who he was, not what he had done. If a corrupt official would imprison an innocent man in Azkaban without a trial, they would not hesitate to have him killed if it seemed he might be freed.
By the end of each interview, many in the public began to share the unsettling thought that Sirius Black might actually be innocent.
Within a day, Minister Fudge, Director Bones and Chief Warlock Dumbledore found themselves painted into a corner. Bones confirmed that Black was the only prisoner confined under the Act never to have received a trial. She otherwise refused to comment.
Fudge claimed it was all the fault of the prior administration. With the political clarity he normally enjoyed when his view wasn't being obscured by bribes, he promised to see justice done.
Dumbledore only repeated that Black was known to be guilty and his confinement was lawful. This, of course, only made Dumbledore himself look guilty in the eyes of a public always on the hunt for a scandal.
The story erupted into a firestorm of controversy. Only a handful of those originally held were acquitted following trial, but those few innocents told harrowing stories of the horrors of Azkaban in follow up interviews. Like Narcissa, they had tears in their eyes and a quiver in their voice as they spoke. Even if there was a only small chance of innocence, they all stated that they thought Sirius Black should be tried.
All in all, Narcissa was very pleased to discover that a half dozen journalists and a few wrongfully confined prisoners could be bribed for much less than one seated Minister.
What followed was weeks of negotiations between the solicitors Narcissa had hired to represent Sirius and the Ministry. In the end, Narcissa agreed to the Ministry's demands. Sirius would be released to her care to recover from his time in Azkaban and confer with his attorneys before trial, on condition he would be equipped with magic suppression cuffs and a bondage torque. She also posted a considerable portion of the Malfoy family wealth as security that Sirius would appear for trial
An additional demand was that Sirius would have no contact with non-humans. The Ministry did not have the highest opinion of non-humans, viewing them as easily corruptible, and it wasn't that far-fetched to think he might be whisked away by a Black house-elf, never to be seen again.
Which is why Harry volunteered to deliver breakfast to their forced guest. Narcissa had consented, presumably believing the security measures in place would be sufficient to protect her son if Sirius fell prey to the famous Black madness.
Harry pushed open the door to Sirius' room cautiously. He held a silver tray loaded down with a traditional English breakfast.
His godfather looked much better than he expected. He was clean, shaven, wearing pajamas, and reading a quidditch magazine. His pale, skeletal frame and haunted eyes, coupled with the goblin forged cuffs that would suppress his magic and the torque around his neck that would end his life if he ever left the confines of the Malfoy Manor wards, were the only indication that his circumstances were less than ideal the day before.
"Mr. Black," Harry said cautiously as he entered the room. "I'm your cousin, Draco. Mother asked me to bring you breakfast."
"Draco. Narcissa's boy?" Sirius' voice was raspy and strained. It sounded like he'd grown unused to speaking.
"Yes." Harry sat the legs of the tray over the older man's waist and then propped him up with his pillows.
"Cissy says I have you to thank for this." His eyes evaluated Harry skeptically, his body tense.
Harry laughed. "Mother wants you to rewrite your Will and name me as your heir. She's giving me too much credit. She's tried to look into your situation for years but father always prevented her. It's not a coincidence that within a month of his passing she started a campaign for your freedom."
Harry wanted Sirius freed but did not want the Black estate. Best to minimize his role.
Sirius appeared to relax after hearing his answer. He began picking at his food. "Are you starting Hogwarts?"
"Yes."
He poured his cousin a glass of milk. He saw Sirius grimace. "You need to rebuild muscle mass. Protein and fat should feature heavily in your diet. Drink," he insisted.
Sirius laughed. It was a hoarse, rasping thing. "You should visit with Poppy at Hogwarts. You'd make a great medi-witch."
Harry took the comment in stride. "I hope so. I'd like to be a Healer like Aunt Andy someday."
This seemed to surprise Sirius. "Most boys your age want to play professional quidditch or be an auror." His tone was questioning.
Harry was silent for a moment, channeling Draco. "I used to love quidditch, or at least flying, before father died. Now I don't care for it." Harry was very much in agreement with Draco. He loved flying and only played quidditch as it gave him the opportunity. "And spending my day dodging hexes for not much pay doesn't sound enticing, so auror is out."
Sirius' face twisted into a grimace. Harry realized he was trying to smile in sympathy but his facial muscles had forgotten how. "I'm sorry for your loss, though I won't lie. I was no friend to your father."
"Thank you," Harry said, hanging his head. It was getting easier to transition from Harry to Draco's emotions. The sorrow he felt was very real.
There was a long pause. Sirius finally broke the silence. "So are you going to try to convince me to rewrite my Will?"
Harry raised his head. His eyes were wet but thankfully he wasn't actually crying.
"No. I'm the sole heir to the Malfoy fortune. I have so much money I and the next ten generations of Malfoy's could live like princes and still have quite a bit left over. You should use it to take care of your godson."
Sirius looked at him bemusedly. "That is not the answer I was expecting. Why do you think that way?"
"It's obvious the Dark Lord isn't dead. He didn't leave a body and the aurors found no wand. That seems more like he was wounded and fled, than killed. If he recovers we'll need Harry in the best possible position to deal with him," he replied truthfully. He intended to take care of Riddle before his younger version needed to, but long experience had taught him to always have a plan B in place.
Sirius frowned at Harry as he tensed up again. "His supporters call him the Dark Lord." He peered at Harry as if attempting to read his mind.
Harry shrugged in response. "I was raised by one of his supporters. What do you expect? Plus it's not like I know his real name," he lied. "Calling him You Know Who sounds ridiculous."
"That we agree on," he said quietly. "So if you don't want to talk quidditch, what do you think about professional dueling?"
Harry smiled as he launched into a review of the Prophet's most recent reporting on the dueling circuit. Even as an adult he'd followed it closely and he found his interest had only increased since he possessed Draco.
When Narcissa stopped by over an hour later she heard the laughter coming from the room. She paused then kept walking. It wouldn't do to interrupt Draco and Sirius when they were in the middle of bonding.
Diagon Alley, July 31, 1991
Harry stood on a low pedestal as he was measured for his school robes. It had been a battle to get his mother to allow him to get fitted for his robes and pick up school supplies without her presence.
His father's death and the controversy of serving as Sirius' jailor, had made her extremely protective of her son, though she was aware enough to acknowledge it. They'd finally reached a compromise where he promised to stay on the north side of Diagon Alley while enjoying a bit of freedom and took care of his school needs. They'd meet at the bank after he did his shopping.
The north side of Diagon Alley was perhaps the safest neighborhood in Britain. Gringotts Bank was prominently placed in the neighborhood and it kept armed goblin guards just outside it's doors. As the Ministry suffered from institutional paranoia, it felt it had to counter the constant goblin presence. It always kept one auror patrol in the area so as not to be publicly seen ceding territory to the goblins.
He had wandered a bit before entering Madam Malkin's. He had a variety of orders to place and he wanted them ready for pickup well in advance of when they'd be needed.
Once that was complete, he let Draco's remnant personality take control and wander the Alley. While the boy meandered, Harry assessed the area for threats.
He immediately spotted a tail, a child his age, brown hair, brown eyed, very plain and average, but extremely clumsy, who was a constant presence. The young boy was talking far too much interest in Draco's activities, as he observed him using the reflection of a window while pretending to admire the newest racing broom.
It was the work of a few minutes to deduce that Narcissa had not been as willing, however reluctantly, to allow him to wander unattended. He toyed with the idea of outing his cousin but decided that would be counter-productive. Let Tonks think she had successfully concealed her presence. It would only encourage his mother to use the same tactic in the future.
It was better if she had someone follow him that he could spot and ditch, if needed, than hire a professional who might actually avoid his notice.
He had put off visiting Diagon Alley over the last week, despite being desperate to get a wand, for two reasons. First, he didn't want to visit Ollivanders before this timeline's version of himself. It wouldn't do to be matched with the holly and phoenix feather wand. It would attract too much attention from a hooked nose meddler. Second, he hoped to meet himself, as he had in the original timeline.
His excuse for his delay was claiming that he needed to tend to Sirius was well received by his mother. She had been running herself ragged trying to take control of two houses, while tending to her imprisoned cousin and her growing son. She had not pushed the issue when he suggested they wait until the end of the month.
His hope was soon realized. He saw Hagrid outside the door talking to his younger self. He suppressed a pang of loss. The Hogwart's groundskeeper had never returned from his mission to the giants. Yet another fool's mission the Headmaster had set, only for his followers to die trying to meet his unreasonable expectations.
Hagrid was too large to enter the store. If memory served, he'd be dealing with an upset stomach, a consequence of the goblin cart ride, and waiting for this timeline's Harry at the ice cream shop. First, though, the giant would take a detour to buy an owl. He had time.
Harry Potter was a too small, dark haired boy. His bangs covered his scar but did nothing to disguise his vibrant green eyes and distinctive, but poorly maintained, glasses. Even as his eyes wandered the shop in awed amazement, he moved in a furtive, hesitant manner, as if expecting an attack at any moment.
How the adults in his life, both muggle and magical, missed the signs of abuse was beyond Harry. It was obvious looking at the malnourished, hesitant child. Harry resolved to watch the adults watching Harry. Something did not add up.
Harry realized he had a problem. He was looking at himself even while he was no longer himself. His thoughts grew momentarily confused, as an ash blond, grey eyed boy overlapped and merged with his self image as a dark hair green eyed boy. There was a sensation of vertigo and if he hadn't focused his full attention on who he was, he would have fallen.
He shook his head in an effort to resolve his mental discombolation. If he wanted to orient himself mentally and emotionally, he needed to be Draco and Harry would remain Harry.
As soon as he affirmed his new frame of reference the vertigo lifted. He drew in a deep breath, calming himself.
An assistant bustled over and took charge of Harry. He was placed on the pedestal adjacent to him. He was surprised to see he was a few inches taller than Harry. He did not remember such a size discrepancy in his timeline.
Draco remained silent for a moment as the measuring tape flew around both his and Harry's bodies. Harry continued to look around the shop, and the measuring tape, with his face slack and eyes wide.
He looked like a country hayseed that had come to town in his oversized, well worn and patched clothes.
He wondered if he had that same amazed look on his face his first day in Diagon Alley. Probably, he mused.
He decided to break the silence. "Are you headed to Hogwarts?" He asked conversationally.
Harry jumped, as if just noticing Draco. He nodded hesitantly. "Yes. For my first year." He seemed uncertain what to say. He looked down and away, unwilling to make eye contact with Draco.
Draco smiled confidently. He held out his hand to his younger self. "Same. My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," he said using his best James Bond voice. He'd always preferred Sean Connery's Bond though he suspected he'd grow up looking more like the Daniel Craig version.
Harry seemed to get the reference. He smiled as he tentatively accepted Draco's handshake. "My name is Potter. Harry Potter." He looked surprised when the shop assistant gasped. He quickly dropped Draco's hand and looked around fearfully.
Draco scowled at the shop assistant. She turned red at her breach of etiquette and hurried about her work, keeping her head down.
"Ah, that explains why you looked so familiar," Draco drawled, appearing to take no notice of Harry's display of apprehension. "You're famous in magical Britain, Mr. Potter. By the way," he continued pretending to ignore the shocked look on his younger self's face, "you may call me Draco, if you want. We're cousins, after all."
Harry looked like he was reeling. "Famous? And how are we cousins?"
Draco jumped off his pedestal. He ignored Harry for a moment as he instructed the store assistant. "I want the upgraded versions of the school robes and other clothes. Mr. Potter will take the same. He'll also want a set of formal robes, and a week of both casual and semi-formal muggle clothing to go along with his school uniforms." He eyed Harry critically. "Use your judgment, but focus on black, greens and blues. Include the self-cleaning and self-ironing charms on all clothing." He looked down at Harry's taped together trainers. "Add a pair of trainers, boots, and dress shoes, all in black. Make sure they're waterproof and have warming charms in the event of cold weather."
The tape measure picked up the pace to an almost frantic speed around Harry as Draco spoke. Harry gaped at him like a fish.
"Put the cost on the family account. We have a decade of missed birthdays and Christmases to make up for, after all."
Harry finally collected himself. He shook his head in denial as Draco spoke. "You don't have to pay. I have money." His face was taking on the stubborn cast that Hermione had constantly complained about. He smiled at the thought of Hermione lecturing him again.
"But I do," Draco disputed, as he ran roughshod over his younger self's objections. "My mother looked for you for years, only to be stonewalled by Dumbledore. She would skin me alive if she knew I had met you and didn't give some small token of our family feeling. She was born a Black and your grandmother was her great aunt, Dorea Euphemia Black."
The tape measure stopped moving around Harry. He jumped off the pedestal and stood next to Draco. "You knew my grandparents?" There was a hint of longing in his tone.
Draco shook his head in denial. "No, Harry, only by reputation. May I call you Harry?" He asked. Seeing Harry nod in agreement, he smiled as he continued. "Then remember to call me Draco. Your grandparents died before we were born. Killed by Death Eaters in the last war."
Harry's face fell in disappointment. "My entire family is dead, except for my mom's aunt and uncle." He sounded depressed.
Draco put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "You still have some cousins through the Black side of the family. We're third cousins, once removed, I think. And your grandparents were both brilliant duelists and went down fighting," he added consolingly. "Did you come here with Hagrid?"
Seeing Harry nod in the affirmative, he pulled his younger self behind him out the door. "Then we need to get you sorted. No offense to Hagrid, but he doesn't have much concept of how strong he is compared to the rest of us mere mortals. He also doesn't really value books all that much. I'll get you squared away."
He turned and faced the shopkeeper's assistant, just outside the door. "You may place Mr. Potter's order ahead of mine in the queue. In fact, my family will pay the usual gratuity if you'll have his full order complete within the hour. He's pressed for time. I am not."
Draco ignored the assistant's frantic nod as he pulled Harry down the row of shops. Harry followed unprotestingly in his wake. Five doors down, he stopped.
Draco had discovered that Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment had a bit of everything in it. Maps, globes, binoculars, telescopes, and a variety of other equipment designed for the traveling wizard.
Before entering the shop, Draco held out his hand to Harry. "Can I see your glasses?" He asked.
Harry hesitantly handed them over. They were in bad shape. The frame was broken in two places and held together by tape. The lenses were covered in scratches. The state of his glasses alone would have been a clue to any professor other than Hagrid, Draco thought, with his suspicions mounting.
He pulled out the wand his mother allowed him to carry, now that Sirius was staying in the Manor and Draco was allowed to wander the Alley. His mother had reasoned he needed some protection on him at all times, something Draco very much agreed with.
The wand had originally been used by the younger brother of one of his ancestors, Valentin Malfoy. He had been killed exploring the frontier in the early days of the colonies. Only his wand had made it home.
It was a good match for Draco. Yew with an unknown core.
Tapping the wand to the glasses, Draco whispered "Reparo."
Draco watched Harry's eyes again widen in amazement. In a matter of seconds, the glasses were surrounded by a small maelstrom of light which quickly subsided. When the light vanished, in its place was an immaculate pair of glasses. They looked like new.
Draco handed them back to Harry. "Go ahead. Try them on."
Harry blinked his eyes rapidly adjusting to the new view. Draco knew from experience that glasses without scratches were far better than those with.
"Thanks, Draco," Harry said quietly.
Draco waved him off. "It's not a big deal. You'll be able to do the same in a matter of weeks." Even as he spoke, a part of him felt regret. He'd also valued the pair of glasses that Hermione had fixed for him that first day. This Harry would never experience that. He hoped conversations on subjects like Arithmancy and Runes would fill the gap.
The glasses fixed, Draco dragged Harry into the store and to the front counter. It took a bit of effort not because Harry was resisting but he kept trying to stop to take in all the sights. Wiseacre's was a veritable jungle of equipment and spinning gizmos stacked high without rhyme or reason.
But they had exactly what Harry needed. Draco knew because he had checked earlier in the day and had them hold it behind the counter. Time was pressing.
"This is Harry Potter. He's my cousin. I am Draco Malfoy. He requires a five compartment trunk, with four of the compartments permanently spelled with the Undetectable Extension charm. The first compartment should be muggle worthy and locked with a standard key. The next three should be concealed from muggles, and include a wardrobe, bookshelf and general storage. These three compartments need to be key and password protected. The final compartment should be concealed from everyone except my cousin, key, blood and password protected, and sized to a standard suitcase. The exterior should mimic a standard school trunk, slightly used. It needs to be weatherproof, and spelled with the featherweight, shrinking and expanding charms. Do you have one in stock and is it ready for delivery?"
The store owner, Filibius Wiseacre, looked slightly put out by the ash blond boy's battery of instructions. Draco knew the expression was because they had gone over this hours earlier, but there was no reason for Harry to know that. "Of course, sir. It can be delivered immediately. Should we charge the family account?"
Draco sniffed and ignored Harry's pull on his arm. "Of course. My cousin will also require a standard moleskin pouch, with interior space the size of a large trunk. We are pressed for time, so we'd like to take delivery immediately."
Wiseacre nodded sharply and came around the counter. It was the work of a few minutes to bind Harry to both his pouch and trunk. He was not unpleasant but he did act a bit put out. Draco knew he'd be charged a premium, though he couldn't bring himself to care. He could afford it.
While the shop owner worked, Harry tried to get Draco's attention, repeating over and over this is too much. Draco just ignored him and continued to bark helpful instructions which had the added benefit of drowning out Harry's protests, even as the owner's scowl deepened.
Harry was so flustered that he didn't even notice when the shop owner pricked his thumb and smeared his blood on the lock. There were advantages to being an inconsiderate and arrogant aristocrat.
The operating instructions were short and concise. Harry wouldn't be able to access the hidden compartments or take advantage of the many charms until he attuned it to his wand. Attunement required a mere tap of the wand while speaking the password. In the meantime, it was a simple school trunk, which suited Draco considering Hagrid's presence.
The moleskin pouch was another story. Another prick of Harry's finger, which he noticed this time if his flinch was an indication, and a dab of blood attuned the pouch to him. Only he would be able to access it now.
"Place your extra books in the moleskin pouch, and place the pouch at the bottom of the trunk under your clothes, Harry," Draco advised. "You really shouldn't let anyone see it until you get to Hogwarts."
With that Draco pulled Harry out of Wiseacre's. The trunk trailed behind Harry, banging away on the cobblestone pavement.
Draco looked down the street to Fortescue's Ice Cream. Still no Hagrid. Excellent.
He pulled Harry down on a bench outside of Wiseacre's. This was a good vantage point. He resisted the urge to wave at Tonks who had given up any effort at subterfuge and was openly staring at Harry.
"Draco, this is too much. I can't accept this," Harry protested again. Draco saw his mouth set obstinately, which was alway a precursor to his blowing up, if Hermione was to be believed.
"It really isn't that much," Draco lied dismissively. The trunk and the pouch cost several hundreds of galleons. They were well worth it in his opinion. "Besides," he lied in an effort to forestall additional protests, "you are a Black by blood. We have a Hogwarts account set up for all Blacks. This is part of the standard equipment. My mother will be reimbursed."
He ignored the skeptical look on Harry's face. Time for shock and awe, he thought. It was always better to keep people off balance when you wanted them to do things your way.
Draco called out, "Dobby!"
With a crack the elf appeared before Draco. Harry jumped back in his seat with a startled yell. Draco again pretended not to notice.
"Dobby, this is Harry Potter. He is my cousin. You are to obey him as if he were me, unless our orders are in conflict. Then you are to report to me so the conflict can be resolved. Understood?"
Harry rocked back on his heels, stunned. Dobby's eyes were filled with worship as he looked at Harry Potter. "Yes, Master Draco, sir. Dobby understands." He made a timid but very low bow to Harry. "Dobby is honored to serve the Great and Powerful Wizard Harry Potter. How can Dobby be serving the wonderful Master Harry Potter sir?"
Harry's mouth was again hanging open like a hooked fish. Draco snorted. "He's not used to house-elves, Dobby. Give him time to collect his wits. In the meantime, pick up my book order from Flourish and Botts. We'll give them to Harry, here."
Dobby popped away and Harry shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "What was that?"
"That is Dobby. He's an elf. Elves serve wizards as they survive by connecting to our magic. Think of it like a symbiotic relationship. If you say his name, he'll come to you if he is able. For example, if you want a glass of milk and a ham sandwich tonight, call him and place the order. He'll have it to you within minutes."
Draco really hoped Harry remembered. The boy looked like he could use a mountain of ham sandwiches and gallons of milk. I'm turning into Molly Weasley, he silently laughed at himself.
Harry nodded his head as if he understood though Draco could tell he didn't. He still had that stubborn look on his face.
"Draco," he asked seriously. "Why are you doing this?"
Draco mirrored Harry's serious look. "I've already said, Harry. Mother would insist." Which was true, Draco thought. "Plus," he added as if reluctant, "there may be some guilt involved. My father fought against your father in the war, though my father's dead now." Draco let his host's sorrow shine through for just a moment.
Harry looked stunned. "Your family fought mine?"
Draco pretended to think. "Yes and no," he eventually replied. "A better statement would be that each family had members fighting on both sides of the war. The Blacks were evenly divided, as were others. It really was civil war."
Harry looked as if he was turning the thought over in his mind. "Are we related to the dark wizard who killed my parents?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't know. He used an alias, Voldemort. No one really knows his real name."
From Draco's perspective that was true. His older self thought that getting into the history of the Potters, Gaunts and Peverel families would only complicate matters at the present so remained silent.
Just then Dobby popped back before the two boys. He was struggling to balance a stack of books higher than he was tall. "Dobby, place the standard set of books in the muggle safe compartment. Harry, put the others into your pouch until you can safely read them."
Draco took one book out of the stack. He handed it to Harry. It was titled, "History's Great Arithmancers". Harry blinked at him owlishly.
"Read this first," Draco demanded. "You'll learn a lot about the underpinnings of magic." And also have something to discuss with Hermione, he added silently. "Tell Hagrid that he took a bit of time so you collected the standard school trunk and your books. He'll be happy with that. Don't mention the extras. He'll get riled up. He doesn't trust my family and he's not much for anything beyond the basics of education anyway, but you really need the information."
Harry was unwilling to let it go. "I'm going to pay you back, Draco."
Draco waved dismissively. "Sure. Whenever. As long as you take my advice now."
"I'm serious, Draco. I don't want anything for free." He looked ready to cry.
Draco placed both his hands on Harry's shoulders. He couldn't help but notice how narrow and bony they felt. He was fairly sure he could break the frail bones of his younger self with only a modest effort. "It is not free, Harry. It's the least we can do. Read all the books, starting with that one," he said pointing to the Great Arithmancers biography, "and we'll discuss it on the train. Alright?"
Harry nodded grudgingly. Just as Draco was going to pull him to the apothecary, he saw Hagrid's form in the distance. He was carrying two cones of ice cream.
"It looks as if we're out of time," he said regretfully. "Alright, this is what you do. He'll take you to the stationary, apothecary and the astronomy shops, and back to pick up your robes. Get the deluxe student package from the astronomy store. Get the standard plus kit from the apothecary. Get the full kit from the stationary store. Introduce yourself and offer to shake hands at all three and tell them that Draco Malfoy sent you. Repeat for me, please."
Harry looked concerned at Draco's vehemence, but complied. "The deluxe student package from the astronomy shop, the standard plus from the apothecary, and the full kit from the stationary store. Shake hands and say Draco Malfoy sent me."
Draco beamed. "Excellent. Most students don't know about those and so they start a bit behind. You should have more than enough gold on you. Just don't dawdle and Hagrid won't question you. Got it?"
Seeing Harry nod, Draco clapped him on the back. "Good. Make sure you read everything. At least one pass through each book. Practice the penmanship handbook. A lot. It'll help." Seeing Hagrid was almost on them, he concluded, "I'll send Dobby to visit in a few days. He won't be seen by anyone other than you. He can exchange letters. Call him if you get hungry."
He was out of time. Hagrid smiled when he found Harry sitting on the bench under an awning, then his visage darkened when he spotted Draco. He ignored the half-giant's scowl as he stuck out his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Potter. We owe you so much. I hope to see you at Hogwarts."
He turned to Hagrid and bowed low. "Draco Malfoy, at your service." He held out his hand to the giant.
Hagrid looked stunned. He reached out to clasp Draco's hand but then noticed his hands were full of ice cream. "Err, umm…" he sputtered. Finally, he thrust both cones into one hand and used his open hand to grasp Draco's.
Draco's hand vanished in the larger man's grasp only to reappear when released. It was covered in ice cream. Vanilla, if Draco was right in his guess. Hagrid looked embarrassed.
"Sorry about that, Mr. Malfoy. It's a bit of a warm day, isn't it?"
"No worries, Mr. Hagrid. Harry and I were just discussing the weather." He turned back to Harry. "I'd offer you my hand but it appears to be indisposed," he said indicating his ice cream covered hand. "Next time."
Harry looked from Draco to Hagrid. He looked surprised to see a small scowl on Hagrid's face and the beginnings of a sneer on Draco's.
He took Draco's hand and shook it. "I don't care about a bit of a mess, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for the conversation."
"Come along, Harry," Hagrid said gruffly, now studiously ignoring Draco. "It isn't safe to be out unattended."
Draco waved as he turned away. "See you at Hogwarts. Harry!"
As he walked away he activated one of the two charms he had silently placed on Harry's glasses. Listening and tracking charms were the bread and butter of aurors engaged in surveillance.
He listened as Hagrid warned Harry about dark wizards, Slytherins, and how the Malfoys were a dark wizarding family. He didn't directly accuse Draco of being up to no good, though it was implied. Most of what Hagrid said was true so he really couldn't complain.
He was pleased with Harry's non-committal responses. He apparently made a good impression, on balance. Much better than his effort in the previous timeline, anyway.
"Dobby," he called again quietly. The elf scurried over, having never left. Draco checked to ensure that Tonks was too far away to eavesdrop. "Follow Harry. Remain unseen. Speak with no one. Find out where he lives. Watch him for a day to see how well they treat him and then report back to my mother and I. Bring him food once his family falls asleep, if he looks like he needs it. No sweets."
Draco knew very well where Harry lived, but now he would have an explanation for his knowledge. It would come in handy over the next several days.
Dobby gave a squeal of delight before vanishing. Draco knew that he would soon know everything an elf thought important about Harry Potter. It would be enlightening.
He only hoped Dobby would restrain his anger and not harm the Dursleys. Yet, anyway.
With a sigh, he headed up the steps to Gringotts to meet his mother. He kept a cautious eye on the goblin guards. They had been both friend and foe during the wars. He had learned to both respect and despise the fierce, but self-interested warriors.
He found his mother surrounded by stacks of papers in a conference room. She was with the Malfoy account manager, Gognuk.
Narcissa Malfoy looked exhausted. As the mother of the Malfoy heir, she had been appointed regent. Arcturus Black had added to her duties by appointing her the Black regent, though he confirmed Sirius as his heir.
Draco suspected he did so as the only way Narcissa's son would inherit would be if Sirius voluntarily changed his will. Which he could not do while confined and subject to trial.
Regardless his mother had spent weeks going through the Malfoy and Black accounts. She had let slip to Draco that she intended to take the family in another direction, which he thoroughly approved.
Narcissa left her seat and gave her son a quick hug. "How was your day exploring the Alley?" She asked tiredly but with a loving smile on her face.
"Good. I met Harry Potter. Got him sorted with clothing, books and equipment. Had Dobby follow him so we would know where he lives," he replied cheekily. He laughed at the flabbergasted look his mother gave him.
"What?" He asked in pretend confusion. "He starts Hogwarts this year. Someone was bound to run into him, might as well be me. Considering we're family, even if distant, I thought you wouldn't mind."
Narcissa exhaustion appeared to evaporate. She gave her full attention to her son. "Tell me everything," she demanded.
He did. The only details he left out was his prior knowledge and preparation for his arrival. When he was done, she nodded slowly.
"You've done well, Draco," she said, pleased. "Give me a few moments and I'll finish up here. After we take care of the betrothal paperwork, we'll go purchase your wand."
Narcissa ignored the dissatisfied look on Gognuk's face. Twelve hour days were typical for goblins, longer if it was an important project. Auditing the Black and Malfoy accounts was definitely an important project. The goblin had already expressed his opinion in no uncertain terms that Narcissa could have a cot in the corner to rest, but that neither should delay the conclusion of the audit by even a moment due to trifling things like family.
"Actually, mother," Draco said hesitatantly, "I was hoping to visit my trust account. I want to get some coins for spending money at school." And ensure the diary in the lead lined box was safely concealed under the piles of gold in his trust vault.
Narcissa seemed to sense a hidden motive. "And?" She prompted.
Draco played the trump card of eleven year old wizards everywhere. "And it would be neat to ride the carts again," he admitted sheepishly.
The tired look was back in his mother's eyes, but her smile was beautiful. "Of course, Draco. Make sure you get a bit extra while you're in the vault. Your betrothal will wait a small while, but you should take enough to buy her a small gift before school." She kissed her son's hair as she pushed him out the door.
Draco did enjoy the ride to his trust vault, number 578. The goblin operating his cart was Griphook, an old friend and enemy, but he did not introduce himself. Apparently child wizards only merited an introduction if they were the Boy Who Lived.
After Griphook opened the door, he spent a few minutes puttering around out of sight of his escort. His box containing the diary was still there, concealed by mounds of gold.
He did not like leaving it here but it was the safest place he had access to, until he could enter the chamber. Once he disposed of the basilisk, he'd have the means of destroying the diary.
He scooped several handfuls of galleons, sickles and knuts into his bag before rejoining Griphook. The ride up was every bit as enjoyable as the ride down.
Malfoy Manor, August 28, 1991
Draco pivoted onto one foot, narrowly avoiding Harry's stinging jinx. He returned the same spell but Harry dodged it, throwing himself to the ground and rolling. While he was moving Draco effortlessly cast two more jinxes, one to the left and the other to the right of the rolling dark haired boy. The second connected as he tried to reverse his forward momentum only to place himself in the path of the jinx.
Draco was growing very attached to his new wand. Blackthorn and dragon heartstring from a Hungarian Horntail, thirteen inches. A warrior's wand, according to Ollivander. It certainly handled smoothly and without complaint, unlike his past self's sometimes temperamental holly and phoenix wand.
"Ouch!" Harry yelped. He rubbed his off arm where the stinging jinx hit. It left a small red welt.
The boys were only allowed to use the stinging jinx in their impromptu duels, mostly as Harry had only learned a few spells and Sirius wanted them both to focus on footwork. The older wizard was insistent that good posture and footwork was far more valuable than knowing a hundred different curses.
Draco admitted that Sirius' focus on footwork as the foundation skill for dodging was benefiting him immensely. In his prior life he had dodged just as his younger self had, relying on quick reflexes and acrobatics, before he grew more fully into his magic. Then he just overpowered the opposition, relying on heavy shielding and overcharged offensive spells which most were unable to block.
Sirius obviously had some training with professional duelists. His instruction was enlightening. It highlighted a more elegant and efficient manner of defense. Draco intended to capitalize on his knowledge.
"Harry," Sirius chided gently. "Why are you rolling on the ground?"
Harry had the grace to look abashed. Staring at his feet, he blushed as he mumbled, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Sirius smiled at his grandson and mussed his hair. "It's harder to fight on the ground. Stay on your feet."
Draco thought the last couple of weeks had been good for Sirius, despite how the month started. When Sirius heard Dobby's report on Harry's living conditions he'd gone into a rage. When days later he read the medical reports and the social worker's interview of Harry, he'd become murderous. It didn't help that Dobby constantly harped on his opinion that the "Bad Dursleys are hurting Master Harry Potter the Greatest and Best Wizard Ever", which implied the abuse was ongoing.
Only a quick stunner from Aunt Andy had prevented his accidental suicide as he rushed toward the Manor's main gate. He clearly intended to take revenge on the Dursleys, without remembering the bondage torque would have killed him once he left the coverage of the wards. Draco had been distressed when he realized that this world's version of Sirius was just as thoughtless and reckless as his.
Draco had been prepared to wage a weeks-long campaign to convince his mother to take action. Instead, she and his aunt decided to act on their own volition. His mother's instincts made him proud to be her son. While she was no fan of the Potters, Harry was family. And as a pureblood, Narcissa could not abide the thought of muggles abusing a magical child.
Narcissa had discussed it with Andromeda, and after first stopping at Ted Tonks' law office, the two Black sisters visited the Dursley residence. They left with Harry Potter and signed papers consenting to the transfer of Harry's guardianship in the muggle world to Andromeda Tonks, who had recently been reinstated into the House of Black.
They'd almost immediately had the boy examined by multiple independent medical professionals, muggle, and magical. The reports were consistent. Harry Potter was the victim of years of abuse and neglect.
The follow up visit from the social worker had been icing on the cake. While Harry resisted speaking, what he did say painted a grim picture.
Being from a wealthy and powerful pureblood family was eye opening for Draco. Legal matters which took muggles and muggleborns weeks, if not months, to resolve were quickly expedited for those of proper social standing.
A court order to approve the transfer of a child's guardianship would normally take at least a few weeks for a normal citizen. For the Malfoy and Black families, however, the judicious use of political pressure and a few charms had seen the case pushed through in record time, supported by the muggle medical records and social worker's report. Within the span of a few days, the muggle court had approved the Tonks' permanent guardianship of Harry Potter.
Ted Tonks was a clever lawyer, both in the muggle and magical world. While the process to obtain the guardianship order may have run afoul of a few muggle laws, the only persons who could challenge were the Dursleys and they wouldn't dare. On the other side, wizarding Britain would only see the Crown's order and would never think to question it. Especially as Harry was now placed with a proper wizarding family.
Sirius' rage somewhat dissipated when it became clear his godson was no longer in danger of being returned to the Dursleys, no matter what Dumbledore wanted. In a stroke of a mere muggle's pen, Harry James Potter was put beyond the legal reach of Albus Dumbledore, the world's most powerful wizard.
Draco knew that Dumbledore had irretrievably damaged any chance of a relationship with Sirius. Journalists and the public had raised legitimate questions as to whether Sirius might be innocent. In response the Chief Warlock, the most senior Ministry official still in office from the time he was initially imprisoned, insisted that proper procedures had been followed and tried to throw up procedural delays to slow the trial.
Coupled with his abandoning Harry with the Dursleys, Sirius had lost the last of his faith in Dumbledore. This suited Draco. The Order would not be commandeering either 12 Grimmauld or the Black fortune in this timeline.
Fortunately, Director Bones has restored a bit of Sirius' faith in the DMLE. After a series of interviews, including questions under veritaserum, review of his memories in a pensieve, and at least one legilimency probe, Director Bones had unequivocally and publicly stated her opinion that Sirius Black was innocent.
Draco was pleased that she had nipped the Headmaster's efforts to imply that Sirius was properly imprisoned at the bud. He wondered how much his betrothal to Susan had played in her decision making. He suspected not a lot, as it was only a paper betrothal and Bones had a reputation for unrelenting honesty, but it wouldn't surprise him if it played a small part.
Even in his past life he'd been slowly learning that connections frequently counted more than magical power. One of the many reasons he and Hermione had settled on this plan.
He suppressed the thought of Hermione, covered in blood, making him promise her. This wasn't the time to dwell on that memory.
Once the DMLE shifted position, Draco was relieved when Director Bones ordered the removal of the bondage torque and revoked the bond requirement, though the cuffs remained pending trial. His relief was tempered, however.
There was a very real chance of Sirius again losing his infamous temper and becoming a serial killer in fact as opposed to reputation. He was too close to freedom and his famous impulsiveness could undo all the positive progress they'd achieved.
To prevent this, and armed with both magical and muggle copies of Harry's medical reports, the Black sisters had again visited the Dursleys. They had not minced words. The Dursleys had a week to get out of the country. After that, they swore they would forward the medical record to muggle law enforcement and publish the detailed medical records of one Harry James Potter in the Prophet.
It would be a death sentence for the muggle family of the Boy Who Lived if they ever encountered a witch or wizard. Thankfully, it never occurred to the Dursleys that the Black sisters were bluffing. Draco knew that Harry would be far too embarrassed to consent to the release of his records. The Dursleys, not knowing that and caught up in their fears, promptly fled the country.
Draco wasn't surprised to hear that Vernon had finally accepted a long offered posting in Australia. The entire family had moved in the dead of night. A 'for sale' sign had been posted outside Number 4 Privet Dr. the following morning, to the surprise of their neighbors.
Draco thought it was that sign which caused Dumbledore to reach out to Narcissa Malfoy. His mother wisely had no time for the manipulative old wizard. She refused his owls, floo calls, and turned away all intermediaries.
It was a testament to Dumbledore's influence that one messenger was able to get through Narcissa's wall of silence. The DMLE visited Malfoy Manor daily to check on Sirius. During one inspection, Senior Auror Shacklebolt had asked her to speak to the Headmaster. She'd refused, citing security concerns in relation to the trial. She'd also reported the auror to Director Bones.
In the course of a day, to both Draco and Sirius' amusement, Senior Auror Shacklebolt had been promoted to Deputy Head Auror Shacklebolt. He then found himself transferred to command Azkaban's guards.
It was the worst possible assignment in the Auror Corps. Unlike the common auror guards, who were on a regular rotation on and off the island, Azkaban's commander was required to be constantly present. His promotion was clearly punishment. But disguised as a promotion neither Shacklebolt nor Dumbledore were in a position to oppose it.
Draco felt a bit of remorse as Shacklebolt had eventually become a decent Minister of Magic. But he greatly preferred Shacklebolt neutralized as a Dumbledore ally and so did not let it unduly trouble his thoughts.
Despite Sirius' intense anger with Dumbledore, Draco was happy to see it paled in comparison to the joy he experienced being around Harry. Having daily contact with his godson greatly improved the depressed Black heir's outlook.
He went from ignoring the advice of Healers to zealously complying with each and every instruction. A few weeks of nutrition potions, sessions with mind healers, and constant contact with his godson had transformed Sirius Black from a walking, talking skeleton to something approaching a human being who might someday achieve good health.
Harry also thrived. His program of recovery closely mirrored that of his godfather. The boy had a near constant smile on his face. His recovery from years of neglect and abuse was rapid. According to Aunt Andy, Harry was still at an age where almost all the physical damage could be reversed, to Draco's great relief.
In his past life, he suffered from constant ailments which were traced back to childhood neglect. For some reason, Dumbledore had never seen fit to treat the problems while he was at school, which stunted his growth and future potential. Or maybe that was his intention, Draco thought darkly.
Harry's improvement was obvious. Draco thought his younger self had grown two inches over the last couple of weeks. He was in danger of being surpassed in height, which caused him to feel an almost fatherly pride.
On the whole, Draco was enjoying the change in both Harry and Sirius. The three were rapidly bonding, something he had desperately hoped for but never considered a real likelihood. He couldn't help but think this boded well for the future.
While Sirius waited for either a pardon or his trial, scheduled for the third week of September despite Dumbledore's efforts to postpone it, he spent his limited energy on teaching the two boys. To his surprise, Draco was learning a lot.
Draco was well advanced (far more so than Sirius realized) in his knowledge of magic. Harry, by contrast, had no magical knowledge. Sirius took that as a personal affront and was on a crusade to correct his godson's shortcomings.
Surprisingly, other than the stinging jinx and some personal grooming charms, he didn't immediately focus on magical education. Instead, he was correcting Draco and Harry's posture and teaching them how to efficiently move during a battle.
"Gather around, my padawans," Sirius said with mock seriousness. He couldn't use a wand due to the suppression cuffs, but he'd acquired a straggly looking stick from somewhere which he used to demonstrate the motions.
"The two of you are going to Hogwarts in a couple of days. You'll need to keep up your practice, if you want to advance in the ways of the force." Sirius was obviously trying to look the part of a noble and wise jedi as he spoke and failing miserably. Both Harry and Draco failed to suppress snickers.
He looked miffed and turned to Draco in mock seriousness. "You're doing well picking up the fundamentals of footwork. Keep practicing the step-drag and small pivots, keeping your movements as small as possible. Work some jump rope into your exercise routine. Your feet need to be light and quick."
Draco nodded in agreement, only to see Sirius scowl at him and slap him across the back of his head. "And stop fooling around. You're relying too much on Harry's inexperience. You were exchanging spell for spell with Harry until the very end when you picked up your rate of casting. Knock it off. Train like you fight, otherwise you'll pick up bad habits. Don't take it easy on Harry, he'll learn faster. Understand?"
Draco mirrored Harry and dropped his head. Sirius was right. The fundamentals won battles and he'd violated the most basic of them; train like you fight.
Seeing that Draco was properly admonished, he turned to Harry. "Harry, you're dodging like you're a muggle movie star. Stop it. It will only get you killed. Keep your weight balanced on each foot. Knees slightly bent. Eyes on target. Move only as much as needed. Flashy, wide movements are right out. Don't worry about the hits you'll take in training. Draco will thrash you, but it's only a stinging jinx, not even a hex. As time goes on, your balance and reaction time will improve. Keep your wand motions tight. Understand?"
Draco snuck a peek at his younger self. He was breathing heavily, covered in sweat. He nodded as he lacked the wind to respond verbally. While Draco was a bit frustrated that the Healers wouldn't let him join in Draco's training regimen yet, he was pleased to see that he was pushing his current limits.
Even if it was simple dueling practice which wasn't enough for Draco to break even a small sweat. It was enough for now.
Sirius pulled them in for a quick hug and then released them. "Go shower. You both stink. I'll see you at dinner."
Draco refused to move. Harry stood by him, looking nervously between his blond cousin and godfather.
"Sirius, are you forgetting something?" Draco arched his eyebrow at the older wizard, like he'd seen his mother do when she thought someone was trying to get away with something. Usually that someone was Sirius.
Sirius sighed. "You can't hold me to that, Draco. I was drunk."
"I can and will," Draco replied firmly. "I got you those girly magazines you were begging for." Actually, Dobby had obtained them for Draco but Sirius didn't need to know that. "It's time for you to come through on your end of the deal. A Black's word is his bond. Besides, what would your fellow Marauders say if you welched?"
Sirius ran his hand through his hair. It looked as if he half wanted to pull it out. "Cissy and Andy would kill me if they ever found out," he complained.
"Your secret is safe with me," Draco lied. He had every intention of ratting Sirius out if an adult ever discovered his animagus ability. He had not dared risk transforming as he had as of yet no explanation for how he'd acquired the skill.
A copy of the Marauder's notes on animagus transformation would nicely answer the question of how, in addition to shifting some, if not all, of any punishment onto Sirius. Draco was reasonably sure his mother and Aunt Andy would be more likely to blame the supposedly responsible adult who shared the notes than the adventurous eleven year old who tried, successfully, to learn forbidden knowledge. It was the most tempting of fruits, after all, not to mention the pride they'd feel in his accomplishment.
Draco held his breath as he watched Sirius struggle with his dilemma. He was surprised when Harry spoke up.
"Padfoot, we just want to read the notes to better understand the process. We won't actually try anything until we check with you."
Draco very much disagreed with that, but chose not to voice his opposition. Harry had made the promise, not him, so he had a work around. Plus, it appeared effective as Sirius' qualms appeared to evaporate after hearing his godson speak.
"Alright, I'll sneak them into your trunk before you head off to school. Be responsible! And don't tell Cissy or Andy!" He said shaking his finger at the two boys. "Now to the showers with the both of you."
Beaming, the two young wizards ran up the stairs to their rooms. Harry's was next to Draco's. "What do we do next?" Harry asked his slightly older cousin.
"We shower. Then we revise the first three history chapters again. Then we read whatever catches your fancy. I've got you a new book, History's Great Rune Masters. How did you like the Arithmancer book?"
"It was brilliant! Did you know that Gamp's exceptions to the laws of Transfiguration were actually developed by her apprentice? It was interesting that she used something approaching the scientific method to . . .".
Harry started droning on about some Transfiguration theory that Draco was certain would be on an exam around fifth year. Draco phased it out. He'd pay attention when forced to, though some of what his surprisingly bookish younger self said tickled a distant memory.
With a sigh, he admitted to himself that Harry had planted the seed. It would plague him until he figured it out. He'd have to look up Gamp's exceptions if he wanted any chance of a good night's rest.
He wondered if the first person he'd met in wizarding Britain had been Hermione rather than Hagrid and Ron, would he have been more inclined to study as a young man in his past life. He thought there might be some truth to that theory. At the time he was desperate for friends and acceptance. He was ashamed to admit he may have voluntarily held himself back to get them, just like he held himself back to avoid a beating for outperforming Dudley.
Pushing the unpleasant memories aside, he made a mental note to look up what Harry was blathering about. Then he wondered if his mother would let him take a spare wand to Hogwarts. A backup was always a good idea.
HPDM HPDM HPDM
AN #2: In the movies, Hermione hits Harry with a stinging hex to swell Harry's face and hide his identity. In this chapter, Draco and Harry are exchanging stinging jinxes, a much less powerful spell which only causes a small welt. Similar to being pinched.
AN #3: I know that Sirius was never convicted and so would not normally need a pardon. There is no crime to pardon. But as a legal protection in case the Ministry ever tried to resurrect the charges, the Black solicitors are insisting on a full pardon if the Ministry elects to forego a trial.