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.
I tried a bit of a small flashback in the first segment of this chapter. Let me know if the transition in and out works.
Thank you for the reviews Riku Lucilfer, DeeD59, Cibbler, Deathday Party Planner, eternaltrekie, god of all, Lou, and Guest. Reviews are appreciated.
Lou: The reason Voldemort always came back in Draco-Harry's timeline is that they got all the horcruxes, except Harry. Hermione eventually figured it out but was not willing to sacrifice Harry despite knowing that hundreds, if not thousands, of others would die. She was just as obsessively in love with him as he was with her, in his original dimension. Draco-Harry never knew he was a horcrux (though he didn't know, it was solved in his dimension with the destruction of his body and death) and he doesn't know younger Harry is a horcrux in this dimension. I thought I obliquely referred to this, without being overly direct, in the prior chapters but I'm still practicing so maybe I messed it up.
Toraach: That's a lot of information. I like wrapping the Blacks into Harry's life as they are a very dynamic family. In this story being a godfather is more than just a few words like IRL, it imposes real responsibilities. This story will be told almost entirely from Draco-Harry's perspective, so any bashing will come from there. We won't see much of Dumbledore's internal dialogue, only his external words and actions. I admit to being a member of the H/Hr club (to my daughter's distress), but that won't apply to Draco-Harry as 1) he views 'his' Hermione as being dead; 2) he's a lot older and though he's damaged, he's not that damaged- he's more likely to assume an older brother role to both H/Hr; and, 3) H/Hr will eventually apply to the younger Harry, who Draco-Harry views as being himself, even if a bit different. I'll read some of the other stories/articles you referenced.
welcome007: You'll get some of your wishes in this chapter.
ALRYM: Killing Lucius, and others, was/is part of the plan. Whether Draco-Harry has cooked up a good plan remains to be seen. He's missing vital information for one, including that younger Harry is a horcrux.
HPDM HPDM HPDM
Hogwarts Express, September 1, 1991
Draco and Harry were relieved to finally step onto the Express. His mother and Aunt Andy had insisted on arriving at the station early to avoid the crowds. Draco approved. An early arrival allowed him to claim the compartment he thought Hermione and Neville had placed their luggage in the first year.
Sirius had been morose. The last few weeks had been good for him, as they had been for Harry. Now the reason for his improvement, Harry, was leaving for Hogwarts. They didn't say so, but he knew his mother and aunt were concerned on how this would affect his recovery.
That concern heightened when Sirius had announced his intention to travel with them to the station. Narcissa and Aunt Andy were both vehemently opposed. Sirius had insisted. Rather than concede defeat, the two sisters had exchanged a look and apparently came to a silent agreement. With the diplomacy for which the Black family was famous, they'd cast two simultaneous Stupefies on their overly stubborn cousin. He'd hit the ground hard.
Draco and Harry had looked on in amazement as the two sisters tightly bound Sirius with a quick Incarcerous, and then applied a Sticking Charm for good measure. It was highly unlikely that Sirius would gain his freedom anytime soon, limited as he was by the suppression cuffs.
"Remind me not to upset them," Harry had muttered to his cousin. Draco was fairly certain the witches heard him, as both had struggled to suppress a smirk.
"Dobby," Narcissa had called out. The small elf had appeared with a pop. "Sirius Black has decided to be an idiot. We are dissuading him. He may attempt to escape. You will watch him and prevent him from leaving the kitchen if he manages to get loose."
Dobby had looked at Draco out of the corner of his eye, looking for instructions. Draco had given his elf a slight nod in agreement.
"Yes, Mistress," he'd squeaked.
If Narcissa had noticed the elf's hesitation, she didn't mention it. After that, they left Malfoy Manor through the floo. For security reasons, they did not directly floo to Platform 9 ¾. Instead they arrived at the floo in Ted Tonks' muggle law office and then took a taxi to King's Cross Station.
The idea had been Aunt Andy's. No one would look for the Malfoy heir and his celebrity cousin arriving in a muggle taxi. Narcissa had hesitantly agreed. The end result was that after a round of fierce hugs from the two sisters, the boys were on the train three hours before the scheduled departure time.
Once they got situated, Draco pulled out his wand and cast a series of detection and privacy spells. He pretended to frown as two points lit up on Harry's glasses.
"Can I have your glasses?" He asked. Harry handed them to him with some uncertainty.
Draco pointed out the two glowing points on his frames. "Tracking and listening charms," he said conversationally.
He pulled an old handkerchief from his pocket and carefully transferred the charms to it. Once complete, he stepped into the train's passageway and discarded the cloth into a waste bin. He then quickly tapped Harry's glasses twice, reapplying the charms outside of Harry's sight, before returning and handing the glasses back to his younger self.
"You need to be careful of your things, Harry," he said seriously. "You and I are both kidnapping targets. I'll teach you the detection spells when we get to Hogwarts, but in the meantime I'll double check every morning when we start our training."
Harry nodded with relief. "Thanks, Draco. Do we know who did it?" he asked, eyeing his glasses suspiciously. Draco was pleased. Anything to motivate Harry to learn and take his personal security seriously.
Draco shrugged. "Sirius, my mom, Aunt Andy, or one of the many healers or aurors that have been traipsing through the manor. The list is overlarge. We need more information before we can narrow the suspects."
Draco stretched. Better get on with it, he thought. Maybe his display of competence would make it easy. Harry must have some trust for him by now.
He reached into his robes and handed a leatherbound notebook to Harry. Someone had written in bright green letters across the tanned front cover "Padfoot's Guide to Loving Witches and How to Avoid Being Hexed Afterward." Little red hearts and cupids surrounded and circled the title.
Harry blanched when he read the front of the notebook. "You want me to read this?"
He sounded mortified. Draco was sure he'd crawl into a hole and hide if one were close.
Draco smirked. "It couldn't hurt, he actually gives some good advice and describes some handy charms." He paused for a second before continuing, "But I recommend avoiding anything after chapter 15 until you are much, much older. I wish I'd given those parts a miss. I'm certain to have nightmares. His illustrations are quite graphic. And they move."
Harry looked ill. Draco was amused by Harry's unease. He needed to remember that Harry was still at the age where girls had cooties.
Taking mercy on his cousin, he said, "Tap the title with your wand and say 'I solemnly swear I'm up to no good.'"
Harry complied. Harry's eyes lit up in amazement when he saw the notebook's title change to "The Marauders' Guide to Becoming an Animagus".
"Sirius came through!" He exclaimed excitedly.
Draco smiled. "Yes. I placed an alert charm on my trunk. Sirius snuck the animagus notes into it last night and he tripped the alarm. I woke up and decided to read it early this morning. Thankfully he left a note on how to change the text from his 'love' training to animagus training, otherwise I'd be scarred for life."
Harry sat down and began to thumb through the book, now that it was on the proper subject. While he did that, Draco pulled a vial containing yellow-green leaves out of his robes. He placed one of the leaves in his mouth. He opened his mouth and muttered a quick sticking charm to the leaf to make sure it did not accidentally come out.
Harry looked curious. "What are you doing?"
"Mandrake leaf," Draco replied confidently. "I have to keep it in my mouth for thirty days. It's the first step of becoming an animagus."
Harry looked shocked. "We promised to wait until he was there to help! We were just supposed to study the notes," he protested as he waved the tan journal around.
"You promised to just study the notes. I didn't," Draco countered. "Besides, I AM just studying the notes. I'm only performing some of the simpler steps so I can compare what I experience to what is written. I won't complete the process without Sirius," he lied. "This is simply gathering data to better discuss the process."
Draco could see Harry turning the idea over in his mind. "I don't like it," he concluded. "It could be dangerous."
"Be serious, Harry. There is no way that Sirius would give us dangerous instructions. It's perfectly safe," he hesitated for a moment. "Except for his love guide; that could be dangerous." With that he proceeded to ignore his cousin as he unshrunk and then placed both their trunks up in the overhead rack.
Harry was silent for a long while. Draco could tell he was bursting with curiosity but was too stubborn to ask. He wondered how his younger self had turned into Hermione. He decided the best route was to continue to ignore Harry. If he truly was similar to Hermione, curiosity would always prevail over rules in the end.
Draco was again reviewing his second year charms book when Harry finally spoke. "Are you sure this is just to gather data?" He sounded apprehensive.
Draco nodded in the affirmative, as he turned the page. He didn't bother to look at Harry.
"I'd like to try it too, then." He sounded hesitant, as if he was trying to talk himself into something. "I don't want to fall behind," he concluded.
Draco suppressed a smile as he closed his book and pulled out the vial of leaves.
"Close your eyes and open your mouth," he ordered Harry.
Harry stood there awkwardly for a moment. He then sighed, closed his eyes and opened his mouth.
It was the work of a moment for Draco to insert the mandrake leaf to the top of his cousin's mouth and then apply the Sticking Charm. "You can open your eyes now," Draco said, pleased.
Harry closed his mouth and ran his tongue across the top of his mouth. His nose wrinkled in distaste. "That's nasty."
Draco agreed noncommittally. If he wanted Harry to think it was no big deal, he needed to act as if it was no big deal.
Harry began to look through the animagus notes only to be interrupted again by Draco. He insisted they practice dealing with Dumbledore and Snape for a bit. Both wizards were exceptional Legilimens. Narcissa thought it prudent to teach the boys how to handle them. Her instructions boiled down to don't make eye contact, stare at their throat when speaking, eat or drink nothing they offer, always ask for their parents, and agree to nothing.
She had actually sat them down and pretended to be Dumbledore as they role played various conversations. Their responses were limited to "No" and "I want to speak with my mother/aunt" and "Floo call the DMLE" and "I would like my Head of House present". After dozens of repetitions, she had finally been satisfied and released them.
Knowing himself as a younger man, Draco thought more practice was needed. So he made sure to rope Harry into a refresher course for at least a few minutes every day.
Finally satisfied, Draco indicated they were done. Harry pulled the animagus book out of his pouch with a tangible sense of relief. Draco was finding himself more and more surprised as he observed his younger self. He never remembered being this studious at this age. He wondered again if he caused it, or whether some other event was to blame.
Putting the thought aside, Draco decided to join him and again began reading over the Standard Book of Spells, Year Two. Playing the role of a genius took work.
Besides, he was still finding nuggets of useful information that he'd forgotten in the lower years' books. The occasional refresher seemed like a good idea. At least it couldn't hurt.
The two boys had arrived a few hours before the train was scheduled to leave so the station was slow to fill. Eventually, however, more and more bodies began to enter the station.
Draco closed his book with some trepidation. If he was lucky, he'd see Hermione again sooner rather than later, looking around the compartment.
He spent the next while looking through the window. He easily spotted Neville Longbottom. His grandmother's vulture hat was hard to miss.
Neville was his typical self, obviously desperate to run for the train but at the same time unwilling to offend his grandmother as she fussed over him. She was doubtless bending Neville's ear about the greatness of his father and his obligation to live up to his stellar reputation. Neville's exuberance was considerably lessened by the time he was allowed to enter the train.
Despite keeping a sharp lookout, he was unable to spot Hermione or her parents. The crowd had swelled as near five hundred students and their extended families descended on the station.
He sunk back into his seat disappointed. It wouldn't be long, he thought just a bit feverishly.
Harry looked at him with concern. "Draco, is something wrong?"
Draco took a calming breath as he put his book away. He forced a smile. "I'm fine, Harry. Just anxious to start the year. The last few months have had a lot of ups and downs. I'm hoping when we get to school we can just focus on studying."
That seemed to satisfy Harry as he put his nose back into his book. Draco closed his eyes and meditated, trying to find balance. It came, though slowly.
The train was just starting to move when the door slammed open. A tall, red headed, freckled boy stood there looking out of breath. Ron Weasley looked exactly the same as he remembered.
"Mind if I join you? There aren't any other open compartments. The train is packed." The boy's eyes were fixated on Harry as he spoke.
Harry's eyes lifted from his book. Draco saw he was blinking in confusion, mind half in and half out of what he was reading.
Draco palmed his wand, but kept it concealed behind his leg. "Yes, we do mind. We're holding seats for friends. So whoever you are, go away." Despite the words, Draco's tone was measured and calm.
He ignored the questioning look in Harry's eyes. He hadn't bothered to tell his younger self that they were saving seats.
The red head's face flushed as he recognized Draco. "Malfoy," he spat. "What are you doing here?"
Draco smiled pleasantly at the boy he was going to keep as far away from Hermione as possible. He wouldn't be interfering with Harry and Hermione developing feelings for each other if he could help it.
"I'm resting and enjoying conversation with my cousin," he replied, gesturing to Harry. "And I told you to get out," he repeated.
Ron's eyes darted to Harry, focusing on his scar. "You're Harry Potter," he exclaimed as if surprised.
As an older man, Draco had slowly come around to the idea that the initial meeting with the Weasleys may have been staged. Seeing Ron's performance, he was convinced.
Harry nodded slowly as he stood. "Yes. Yes, I am," he responded quietly with a short bob of the head by way of a bow, as was due an equal. "May I know who you are?"
Mother would be pleased, thought Draco. Harry was remembering the crash course in etiquette lessons she had insisted on, to Harry's great distress.
Ron's face flushed even brighter red. "Ron Weasley," he half mumbled in embarrassment. He forgot to bow, but that was to be expected from someone like Ron.
He appeared to gather his courage when there was no reply after introducing himself. "It's great to finally meet you," he said uncomfortably. His face brightened. "Can I touch your scar?" He asked excitedly, his hand outstretched.
Harry jerked back, which caused him to fall backward into his seat. He shook his head vehemently in the negative, while protesting "No!"
Ron dropped his hand in disappointment. He shuffled his feet nervously. "Can I sit here, then?" He asked hopefully.
Draco sighed heavily. "Look, Weasley. I've told you twice, nicely even. Get out. You are not welcome here." He laid his wand hand across his lap so his wand was clearly visible.
The red head grimaced. "You need a better sort of friend, Harry," he said with a scornful look at Draco. "He's a snake through and through. You can't trust slimy snakes." He put his hand out towards the green eyed boy, this time offering a handshake. "I'm headed to Gryffindor, just like my family. I can introduce you to some of the Lions, who would all be a lot better company than a Malfoy."
Harry looked at Ron's hand as he stood again. He spoke slowly and clearly, ignoring the hand. "I can pick my own friends, Weasley. My cousin said get out. I agree with him. Go away."
Hearing Harry's rejection, Ron's face turned a shade of scarlett that would have made Uncle Vernon proud. "You think you're better than the rest of us just because you have money and that scar," he snarled, his eyes shining bright as he fixated on Harry. "Well, fine. Make friends with Death Eater spawn. You're made for each other, Potter. Don't expect me or my family to help you when you find out what backstabbers they are!"
With that he spun on his heel and stomped away. Draco stood and closed the compartment door behind him. Weasley couldn't have performed better if he'd paid him, Draco thought. He came across as a complete prat and probably turned Harry off the idea of ever being sorted into Gryffindor.
"I'm sorry about that, Harry," Draco said quietly. " I warned you that you are famous. That means people think they know you. That makes them over familiar and they believe they're entitled to your time and attention."
Harry sat down with a groan. "Is the entire year going to be like this?"
Draco laughed. "Just the first part. They'll get used to you." He paused slightly. "Unless you're in Gryffindor. Then it'll never go away. You'll be the Boy-Who-Lived, a hero, in the house of the recklessly brave and chivalrous. They'll be expecting you to slay a dragon and rescue a damsel on an at least monthly basis."
Harry snorted. "There's no way I'm going to Gryffindor if that's what I can expect. Did he really ask to touch my scar," he said in disbelief. "That's delusional."
"That's Gryffindor," the blond boy sneered while internally trying to contain his glee. "You shouldn't join Slytherin, even if the Hat offers, as a third of the House will try to kill you in your sleep. You should definitely not become a Gryff, but the Claws and Puffs are excellent choices."
Draco had spent long hours going through each of the houses with Harry. He really hoped he was sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. The Puffs would be good for him as he could meet some friends with common sense, while the Claws would encourage him to learn to his potential. Either house would be a vast improvement over the more confrontational Lions or the Snakes.
Harry nodded glumly. Draco knew that he was disappointed he shouldn't be sorted into the same house as Draco, but he'd reassured him that they'd always be cousins and friends. Besides, they had a standing six a.m. meeting set up for fitness and dueling training. They'd see more than enough of each other.
They fell back into a companionable silence, with Harry reading and Draco meditating. His ability to draw in and release magic was rapidly improving. Like a muscle, his magical strength had grown greatly due to constant practice. He thought he might be able to start consistently handling fourth year spells very soon. He should be able to handle the animagus transformation now, though he still needed to pretend to go through the process so he had a plausible excuse for manifesting the talent.
He had almost dozed off when a loud knock was heard outside their compartment door. Harry looked put out by another interruption, but Draco felt pleased. Someone was at least being polite.
"It's open," he called out. As he spoke, Harry burrowed back into his book. He obviously didn't want a repeat of the Weasley experience.
Crabbe and Goyle stood there, looking uncertain. Draco sighed, again. There was nothing for it. Time to take charge of Slytherin.
"Come in and make yourselves comfortable," he ordered. The two heavy-set boys looked relieved as they drug their trunks behind them. Neither had a problem lifting them and placing them in the overhead bin.
"Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, may I introduce you to my cousin and friend, Harry Potter," Draco said dramatically. He didn't bother to identify which was Crabbe and which was Goyle. He'd figure it out soon enough.
Both the two husky boys remembered their lessons enough to mumble their way through introductions. Harry was doing an excellent job responding, though he looked to resent being kept away from his book. Draco beckoned them to sit next to him, leaving Harry's side of the compartment open.
Once everyone was seated, Draco said, "Harry's new to wizarding Britain. He's unlikely to be Sorted into Slytherin, but he's still family. If you see anyone giving him a hard time, put an end to it."
Harry looked dissatisfied with Draco's instruction, as the other two boys mumbled their agreement. Draco saw him consciously suppress his disapproval and return to his book. He's learning, thought Draco, pleased.
Draco went back to his Occlumency while Harry read and the other two boys played a game of Exploding Snap. The constant noise didn't bother Draco, though he could see that Harry was frowning at the two boys. Draco moved up the odds of Harry being Sorted into Ravenclaw into near certainty.
The snack lady came around and all the boys purchased a few sweets, except for Draco. Harry seemed particularly enamored of Chocolate Frogs. Draco declined the candies. He needed to focus on his shields. If the timelines held true, she should be making the rounds with Neville looking for his toad.
Sure enough, it was only a matter of minutes before their compartment door sprung open again. Standing there was Hermione Granger. Her hair was as bushy and wild as he remembered, as were her warm brown eyes. He didn't even register her oversized front teeth. Draco felt his heart constrict even as he forced himself to stand and bow, when he'd prefer to stare.
His action surprised her. Whatever she was going to say was lost as she looked quizzically at Draco.
"My name is Draco Malfoy. To my left is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle," he continued indicating each in turn with an outstretched arm. "Across from me is my cousin and friend, Harry Potter. May I ask for your names?" He smiled at her, which caused her to blush slightly.
"I'm sorry. I'd forgotten my manners. I'm Hermione Granger. This is Neville . . .," she stopped as she looked expectantly at the pudgy brown haired boy next to her. "I'm sorry, I don't know his last name," she finally conceded as Neville didn't take the hint.
Neville's face reddened to a degree that suggested he had Weasley blood. "Longbottom," he finally muttered. "Neville Longbottom." He avoided making eye contact with Draco though he did eye Harry speculatively.
"Please, have a seat," Draco offered, indicating the space next to Harry.
She hesitated but then shook her head. Her bushy hair went a dozen different directions as her head moved. "I can't. I'm helping Neville find his toad. Have you seen a lost toad?"
Crabbe and Goyl muttered no, while Harry kept his eyes glued to his book. He only gave a brief shake of his head to indicate that he'd heard.
Draco didn't want Hermione to leave, but thought he had a solution. "What's your toad's name?" He asked, pretending to not know.
"Trevor," the boy responded, looking everywhere but at Draco, his face still flushed.
"I know a spell, though it's a bit advanced. If it works, we should find Trevor," he said, taking out his wand. Hermione looked interested while Neville paled to see a wand in Draco's hand.
Taking a deep breath, and centering himself, Draco pulled in the surrounding magic and drew it through his wand, focusing on what he wanted. "Accio Trevor the Toad," he solemnly intoned while his wand tip moved to trace the top half of a circle. It was a fourth year spell, but he thought he was strong enough for it as long as he didn't overdo it.
Everyone in the compartment looked expectantly for a few seconds but then their faces fell when no Trevor materialized. Draco shook his head in dissatisfaction. "I'm sorry about that," he apologized. "I really thought I could pull off the spell."
"Well it is a fourth year spell," she offered sympathetically. "It isn't really something we should be trying right now."
Draco had always been amazed at the complex and sometimes contradictory emotional range her expression and tone could convey. Today was no different. Mixed in with her sympathy was more than a bit of smugness. He thought it amusing.
Neville was looking relieved as Hermione spoke. Draco wondered if something had occurred between Neville and Draco before the start of school. There was nothing in his memories indicating anything untoward occurred. Their interactions had been limited to formal introductions at the occasional Ministry and social event.
"Well, Harry and I will help search for Trevor," he volunteered as he saw Hermione preparing to leave the compartment.
Harry's eyes widened in shock. He mouthed the word, "No" in an effort to dissuade his cousin. He was clutching the animagus notebook as if it were the original Gutenberg Bible. As usual, Draco ignored him.
Hermione looked back pleased. "Oh, that's wonderful." She looked a bit guilty. "You don't have to, however. I'm sure Neville and I can manage."
Draco sniffed in dismissal. "It's settled," he announced grandly. "Crabbe, Goyle, watch our things and save our seats." Turning back to Harry, "Cousin, you search with Hermione toward the forward half of the train. Neville and I will search the back half." Seeing Harry was about to protest, "and remember your manners. I would hate to tell Aunt Andy that you abandoned a damsel in distress."
Hermione huffed in irritation at hearing herself being referred to as a damsel, but didn't say anything. She was practical and grabbed Harry's hand as he followed in resignation, stuffing the notebook into his pouch.
"Neville, follow me," Draco commanded. When he saw Hermione and Harry vanish into the adjacent forward train car, he stopped. "Give me a moment," he said as he closed his eyes and focused again. "Accio Trevor the Toad." He made the same wand motion he had in the compartment.
Neville shifted from foot to foot. "Draco, I don't want to be rude, and I appreciate the help, but that didn't work last time."
Draco leaned against the train's hallway wall. "Be patient," he smirked.
In a handful of seconds, a green and brown blur was seen traveling through the air. Draco reached out his hand and caught it just as it passed over Neville's shoulder. The toad looked very unhappy with having been forced to fly, which was not a natural form of transport for a toad.
Draco handed Trevor to Neville. The boy's eyes widened in joy. "Trevor!" He squealed in happiness. Whatever reservations he had been feeling towards Draco appeared to vanish. "Thank you," he said gratefully.
"Not a problem," Draco replied. "Please keep the fact that I got the spell to work to yourself. If word gets around, the professors might assign me extra work. Just tell people we found him in a hallway."
Plus it might focus Hermione's attention on him and he'd like to avoid that. Her eyes should be on Harry, if he could arrange it.
Neville anxiously nodded his head in agreement and didn't appear to notice when Draco guided him back to their compartment and sat him down. The pudgy boy spent the time cooing to Trevor, which Draco thought was a bit embarrassing but Neville was still a shy eleven year old, so he could be forgiven. He hadn't yet grown into the tall, broad shouldered veteran auror he would someday be.
About an hour later, Harry and Hermione returned unsuccessfully. They didn't appear to be distressed by their failure to locate Trevor. Instead, they were locked in an animated discussion about Hogwarts: A History, which could be heard from down the hall. Harry had only read it once, which was only a modest achievement when compared to Hermione's thrice, but she was ecstatic to find someone who shared her interest in the book.
They both looked up as they entered the compartment. Draco laughed. "It would seem that you two are well matched in your love of books. We saved you seats," he said motioning to the bench across from him. Coincidentally, this would place Harry and Hermione side by side.
Neville held up Trevor. "Draco found him," he announced, pleased. Hermione declined his offer to hold Trevor, though she appeared happy the toad had been found.
"Neville, Hermione, do you have luggage?" Draco interjected. There were still a few hours till they arrived at Hogwarts and he wanted to keep Harry and Hermione in the same room.
Neville responded before Hermione could. She was distracted by the Great Arithmancers book Harry was showing her. "We left our trunks stacked with some others in the passageway where we entered the train. They should be fine."
"Nonsense," Draco responded jovially. "Harry and Hermione, stay here and save our seats. Neville, Crabbe and Goyle come with me. We'll collect the trunks."
Neville readily agreed as Crabbe and Goyle stood. Draco was unsure as to why they always obeyed him. He'd diligently searched his memories. The two boys were a fixture in his life and just seemed to follow in his wake. Despite that, Draco really didn't know them that well.
Hermione, of course, protested. She could collect her trunk herself, thank you very much. Draco waved off her concerns.
"You and Harry should keep talking about crazed arithmancers. But the rest of us are bored to tears with your talk and could use a chance to stretch our legs. We'll be back."
She looked hurt that he'd think conversation about arithmancy was boring, and shrunk back into the seat with Harry in response. Harry glared at him. He felt a tendril of guilt, but suppressed it. He was here to save Britain and ensure that Harry and Hermione were happy. Not in that order.
It only took a few minutes to locate the two trunks in question. Each boy took one end and moved them easily down the passageways.
Draco still managed to delay their return by almost two hours by the simple expedient of stopping at every compartment between themselves and their destination and introducing themselves. It was a productive use of time as it gave Neville the chance to work on his presentation, as Draco stopped taking the lead after the eighth compartment. It also confirmed that Ron was either mistaken or lying when he claimed the train was packed.
By the time they returned, Harry and Hermione had taken over an entire bench. School books were open and spread everywhere. They were chattering excitedly about some magical theory that Draco immediately tuned out. They looked disappointed to see the boys return.
Crabbe and Goyle put the trunks up on the rack without being asked and then looked silently at the two bookworms. Hermione blushed as she moved her stack of books off the seat previously occupied by Goyle. The two immediately resumed their game of Exploding Snap, with Neville joining them.
Draco retook his seat opposite Harry. He noticed that his cousin had not pulled out Sirius' notebook. He assumed because he did not want to take the risk that the wrong cover would be displayed.
"So I take it the two of you are headed to Ravenclaw?" Draco's tone was joking. He smiled as he spoke.
Harry nodded seriously. "I think so. I found a reference in Hogwarts: A History, that they have their own private library which has grown to rival the castle's own library. Apparently it is tradition that every Ravenclaw student donate one book upon graduating. Over the centuries it's become massive."
Hermione looked distressed. "It's so unfair. Knowledge should not be hoarded but made available to everyone." She looked as if she were planning to single handedly storm Ravenclaw Tower and demand access to their library.
Draco looked at her curiously. "You don't want to join Ravenclaw? I thought you'd be a natural, like Harry."
"I was thinking of Gryffindor," she said determinedly. "The Headmaster is the greatest wizard alive and he's done so much. He started as a Gryffindor."
Draco nodded his head cautiously. "The Lions tend to be a bit more physical than cerebral, but whatever makes you happy." He leaned back and closed his eyes so he could think.
He was surprised to hear Harry speak. "Great doesn't mean good," his younger self said quietly. "The Headmaster illegally placed me with the Dursleys. They hurt me. He kept Sirius in jail without a trial. He's still trying to stop it. I don't think I like him."
Hermione looked confused. "What do you mean?"
Harry and Neville spent the next many minutes explaining wizarding Britain's most recent scandal. Hermione looked appalled when they finished. "I can't believe he'd do that. He's the Headmaster. The Chief Warlock. The Supreme Mugwump. It's his job to make sure things like that don't happen." She sounded like she'd just discovered that Dumbledore had murdered a puppy.
Harry replied quietly, "Lord Acton once said, 'Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men…'." He stopped and then continued with just a hint of uncertainty. "I think Dumbledore might be a great wizard, he's certainly a powerful one, but it's even odds he's a bad man."
Draco silently congratulated his younger self. He really enjoyed seeing this side of himself. It made for less work.
"My gram says Dumbledore might be the leader of the light, but he's done a lot of harm too. She thinks half the deaths in the war could have been avoided if he wasn't confusing philosophy with wisdom, whatever that means," Neville added shyly. He refused to look at Hermione and focused on the card game.
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. She seemed conflicted. "I'll have to think about this."
Harry gathered up his books and dropped them into his pouch. "I'd love to see you in Ravenclaw." He looked down. "It would be nice to have a friend there."
Neville looked resentful as Harry spoke, but it was only a momentary flash. Hermione dropped her head and bit her lip. Long experience had taught Draco that Harry had convinced her, but she didn't want to admit it. Hermione could be extremely stubborn, though at this age she'd be desperate for a friend.
"It doesn't matter what houses we get Sorted into. We'll all be friends regardless," Draco said smoothly. Surprisingly, Crabbe and Goyle perked up at that, as did Neville. "Though Ravenclaw does sound like the best choice for those who like to study and learn. I hear the Claws get their own private rooms. None of the other houses get that perk."
The subject changed after that and they began to discuss the Sorting. Hermione looked offended when informed that the Sorting was handled by an old, battered hat. She was very vocal in expressing her opinion that some sort of standardized placement test would be a better method. Neville just looked relieved. He muttered he'd been worried they had to fight a troll or something.
It was only a short time later when the train came to a stop. Draco was sorry it was over. It had been a wonderful journey, just sitting with her and hearing her speak.
Now the separation would begin. Even if he made an effort, the divisions between the houses would still keep them apart, just a bit. He really hoped Harry and Hermione would be Sorted into the same House.
Hogwarts, September 1, 1991
Draco gathered with the other first years. Hearing Hagrid's voice caused a swelling of emotion. He suppressed it. He had no reason to get weepy with Hagrid in this life. He needed to remain the young, aloof aristocrat.
The boat ride across the lake was every bit as magical as he remembered it. He shared the small, rickety vessel with Bulstrode and Ginny's old boyfriend, Michael Corner. Thankfully, neither were much for conversation.
Draco spent the trip looking at the approaching castle. He had spent his adult life wandering from battle to battle, with only occasional interludes of peace and rest at 12 Grimmauld. The Black residence had never been home, though, no matter how much he and Hermione had tried to make it seem so.
He realized with a shock that Hogwarts was the only place he had really ever thought of as being home. He struggled to control his breathing as memories threatened to overwhelm him. This was not the time.
Everything happened as he remembered. McGonagall gave her speech (a lie, he thought; the Hogwarts Houses were no substitute for family) and instructed the students to smarten themselves up. He saw Ron wipe a smudge off his nose as Hermione tried (unsuccessfully) to impose some order on Harry's hair, after his efforts met with utter failure (as usual). She gave up after a few moments and contented herself with reciting random facts about the Great Hall, with Harry listening with rapt attention.
Draco's attention was locked on the Great Ceiling, depicting the outside sky. It was a powerful, beautiful and subtle enchantment. It had been destroyed during the Battle of Hogwarts, which ended the Second Blood War. He didn't remember hearing whether it had ever been restored. He resolved to make sure that this time it, and the rest of the castle, never suffered as it had in his timeline.
The Sorting commenced identically to last time, starting with Abbott, Hannah. He flinched when her name was called.
She'd married Neville and they had two children. She had died in the Fourth War. He had left her to die so he could get the wounded Hermione away from the ambush.
His betrayal had been for nothing though. Hermione had still died, as had his dreams of a family.
Neville had never forgiven him. Which was fair enough. He hadn't and wouldn't forgive himself.
Hannah was sorted into Hufflepuff. Those after her followed the same pattern he remembered, though he was embarrassed to admit he'd forgotten many of his classmates. In general, however, the Sorting happened as he recalled.
Finally, McGonagall called out the first of the two names he was concerned about. "Granger, Hermione."
She walked primly across the floor and sat on the stool as if it were her throne. Her eyes rolled up. She was obviously attempting to make eye contact with the Hat perched on her head. There was a short lull, as if she and the Hat were communing, and then it shouted out, "RAVENCLAW!"
He felt a sense of relief sweep through him. She was away from the hyperactive, overly athletic Gryffindors, who had never truly valued her friendship, intelligence or courage. A more cynical, jaded part of him whispered that she was away from Ron, his rival and her betrayer.
He ignored his internal tormentor. Ron was a non-issue. At the first sign of bullying or danger, he would be dealt with. He wouldn't not be as forgiving in this life, as he had been in the last.
He prayed Hermione would be happier, and safer, among the books of Ravenclaw tower. He scowled briefly, remembering a few of Luna's bullies. He'd keep an eye on things, but hopefully Harry would be sorted there also and his intervention wouldn't be necessary.
He missed a good amount of the Sorting with his musing and was surprised when Nott nudged him to get his attention. He was just in time to hear the Deputy Headmistress call out, "Malfoy, Draco." It was embarrassing that Nott of all people had caught him daydreaming.
He lifted his nose and arrogantly walked toward the stool and sat, ignoring McGonagall's barely restrained look of disapproval. The Malfoy family did have a bit of a reputation which he was playing up to, after all, so she could be forgiven.
There was a sense of deja vu when the Hat was placed on his head. If memory served this would be a rapid sorting. He kept his occlumency shields up, just in case.
"What do we have here . . .", the Hat murmured. There was a pause. "Oh my. There are two of you in here. Hmm. What to do, what to do . . .."
He forced himself to remain still. He centered himself and then cautiously asked, "What do you mean?"
He sensed more than heard the sniff of disdain. "Oh please, Mr. Potter, or is it Mr. Malfoy at the moment? No, I think it's Mr. Potter-Malfoy. I'm a thousand year old artifact designed for just this purpose by four of the greatest wizards and witches to ever walk this island. Do you really think your pathetic Occlumency could keep me out?"
Draco deflated. He was so close. "What now?"
The Hat sounded amused. "Now I fulfill my third and least important role. I sort you."
"You're not going to report me?"
"Why would I?" The Hat retorted. "My primary purpose is to protect the castle from enemies who would infiltrate it as students. You are no enemy. My secondary purpose is to advise the Headmaster, but only in a general sense. I keep the secrets of those I sort, so long as they mean Hogwarts no harm. In any event, this Headmaster stopped asking for my advice a long time ago. So now my only job is to decide what color of school robes you'll wear."
A palpable sense of relief swept through Draco. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," the Hat smugly replied. "My other dimensional counterpart placed you in Gryffindor. That won't do. You outgrew your reckless daring and sense of chivalry a long time ago. Mr. Malfoy is very much a Slytherin, as are you in your current state. Any objections?"
Draco's brain froze for a moment. "Other dimension?" he eventually responded.
"Yes, your dimension's version of Ms. Granger almost had the Arithmancy right. But close isn't enough when it comes to time travel. You've actually shifted through dimensions, which is a bit of a blessing. Mucking with time is a dangerous business. The future you've lived has not yet happened here, so you're free to act as you please."
Draco's head was spinning. This changed everything. Or did it? He shelved it for later consideration and resolved to ask another question since the Hat was in such a talkative mood.
"I take it Draco is still in my head," he said resignedly. He was pretty sure he'd known that anyway, but it was nice to get some clarification. Maybe he could do some more mental pruning to keep him from rising up.
"Yes. You severed his consciousness from his body, but you left the roots of his psyche intact. They've been growing and merging with your consciousness almost from the moment you expelled him. It's not the worst result in the world," the Hat said placatingly as it observed his mounting horror.
"I thought I'd kept him segregated," he replied weakly.
The Hat laughed scornfully. "Your legilimency is rudimentary, at best. The mind arts are not your forte; you need a lot more practice. As soon as you embarked on this path there were only two options, a merging or a split. A split would have seen this body dead in a year or two as the two of you vied for dominance. Think of your Voldemort and Professor Quirrell. A merging means that the two of you become one, which means the body survives even as Messrs. Potter and Malfoy as distinct entities don't."
"What can I do to stop it?" He had a mission and could not lose himself.
"Nothing," replied the Hat. "I suggest meditation to ease the transition. Your mission, which I thoroughly approve of by the way, should be safe as you are by far the stronger of the two personalities."
Somewhere in the back of his head, he felt Draco pouting. Draco slammed the mental door on that thought.
"And with that thought," the Hat said smugly, "you prove my points exactly. Anyway, you are approaching a historically significant hat stall, so…".
"Wait!" Harry mentally shouted. "One more thing. Can you make sure my younger me follows Hermione into Ravenclaw? He needs her and she needs him."
"Mr. Potter-Malfoy," the Hat snapped sternly, "the sorting of other students is none of your concern. This dimension's Harry Potter is not you and this dimension's Hermione Granger is not yours. Don't play the part of the manipulative Headmaster trying to ensure that all occurs according to some grand design. The role does not suit you."
The Hat blocked any further attempt at communication by calling out, "SLYTHERIN!"
With that McGonagall swept the Hat off his head and he stood to a small scattering of applause. McGonagall was giving him a speculative look, as were the other professors.
Snape clapped politely for him, a quizzical look on his face. He gave a short bow to his Head of House, which the older man returned briefly.
Looking around the hall, he saw most of the students had been caught by surprise by the announcement. Their bored faces lit up when they realized the delay in the Sorting had been resolved and they were that much closer to dinner.
He quickly moved toward the Slytherins table and took a seat next to Daphne. There were quite a few Slytherins looking at him appraisingly.
"How long was I under for?" He asked quietly.
"More than ten minutes," she responded. She arched her eyebrow in a questioning manner. It reminded him of his mother.
"I had the traits of all four houses," he lied in a whisper. He knew by pretending to want it kept quite that it would make the statement more believable in the eyes of his housemates. "It couldn't make up its mind and kept debating pros and cons."
He saw several of his closer housemates nod when they heard his reply to Daphne's unspoken question. He knew his explanation would make the rounds by tomorrow morning.
Daphne nodded in satisfaction, as if his answer was something she had anticipated. She turned her attention back to the Sorting and he did the same.
He almost missed 'Moon, Lily' being sorted into Gryffindor. Wasn't she a Hufflepuff last time, he thought, searching his memories. He put it aside as unimportant.
When "Potter, Harry" was called, he crossed his fingers hoping for Ravenclaw. Then he thought of the Hat's admonishment and uncrossed them. The Hat was right. He shouldn't be manipulating children. They would work it out or they wouldn't. It was up to them.
Harry looked nervous as the Hat dropped over his head, almost entirely obscuring his face. There was silence for a few minutes as the gathered students wondered if they were going to observe another extremely long hat stall, only for the battered headgear to finally yell out, "RAVENCLAW!"
Harry looked pleased as he handed the Hat back to McGonagall and skipped over to his new house's table. The Eagles all stood and gave him a standing ovation, while the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs clapped politely. The Gryffindor table seemed frozen in shock until a collective moan of disbelief and loss arose from them. The twins collapsed backwards mimicking being stabbed in the heart.
The head table looked dumbfounded as they all clearly expected Potter to go to Gryffindor. McGonagall looked ready to cry and, for just a moment, Headmaster Dumbledore looked as if Christmas had been canceled. Then his face smoothed and he clapped politely with the others.
Except for Snape. His face was impassive, which was a massive improvement from the sneer he remembered from his timeline. No dimension, he corrected himself. Snape didn't clap for Potter, but Draco didn't think he'd clapped for any student, except Draco.
Harry sat next to Hermione as she shifted over, a pleased smile on her face. The two bookworms began to excitedly whisper to each other. From the distance, Draco could see him reach into his moleskin pouch. It looked as if he was showing her his Great Runemasters' book.
He looked away from the two and began to evaluate his actions. He was fairly certain that they were both in Ravenclaw only due to his manipulations, or at least Hermione was. This dimension's Harry was different from what he remembered of himself, so maybe he'd be Sorted into the Eagles anyway. He felt guilty and, unlike his recent habit, he made no effort to suppress it.
He was an adult, even as the faint echo of Draco disagreed in the background of his mind. He hushed it as he considered. He knew better than to try to control children. They needed to find their own way. He had been forcing his wants and desires onto them, as he was very clearly trying to live vicariously through them. That would not do.
He desperately wanted his Hermione back. Now it would never happen, he thought choking up. He had not traveled in time. He could not change his past. He could not save her, let alone their unborn child. He felt his eyes grow wet as he dug his fingernails into his palm.
"Draco, are you okay?" He heard Daphne asked as she placed a hand on his arm. From her other side he saw Tracy Davis looking on in concern, as was Millicent Bulstrode. Nott sat next to him, oblivious.
Pansy Parkinson was studiously ignoring him. Apparently she had heard about the Bones betrothal. Thank the lord, he thought with a small bit of relief cutting through his sorrow.
He blinked away his tears. "Yes," he replied with a weak smile. "I was just feeling a bit homesick," he lied, feeling ashamed of himself. He was a grown man breaking down in front of kids. He needed to keep it together.
Both girls nodded sympathetically at him before their attention returned to the Sorting. He saw some of the older students sneer at him. He made a note of their names and faces. He'd have to correct their mistaken impression of him as quickly and as painfully as possible.
The Sorting continued apace. There were no more surprises. Zabini was sorted into Slytherin as in his timeline. He offered Zabini his hand as he was seated opposite him, and then belatedly did the same to Nott at his side. They both gratefully returned the handshake.
Alliances are built one step at a time, he mused. It required a careful balancing of fear and respect.
Dumbeldore gave the same announcements and warnings he remembered. Apparently he was a barmy, old manipulator regardless of dimension. He put it out of his mind, but he was determined to ensure that Harry didn't run his obstacle course.
It was all he could do at his present power level. He was not yet in a position to draw Dumbledore's fangs or, if need be, cut him down.
The feast was as excellent as every other Hogwarts feast he'd attended. It was a very British feast, heavy on the meats, gravy and potatoes, with a generous helping of dessert.
He focused almost exclusively on the meats with a small amount of broccoli and sprouts, and ignored the breads, fruits, and sweets which were available. He refused pumpkin juice when offered in favor of water.
He flicked his hand, releasing his wand while concealing it's tip in the palm of his hand. He cast a quick and silent charm to check the food and drink it for potions and poisons as was his habit.
He was surprised to discover that Dumbledore had not laced the food and drink with loyalty potions. The loyalty the man inspired was legendary and he long suspected that was artificially induced thought he'd never been able to prove it.
Reassured, he tried to eat his fill but was somewhat stymied by the bitter taste of the mandrake leaf which contaminated everything he tasted. He distracted himself by engaging in casual, but short, conversations with his housemates, and generally tried to enjoy himself. He was only moderately successful.
Eventually they were dismissed. The prefects led them into the dungeons until they reached the door leading to the common room.
A prefect, Gemma Farley, if Draco remembered correctly, stood before them. "The password is Magical Might." As she spoke, the door behind her swung open. "Don't forget it. Don't write it down. Don't speak it in front of any non-Slytherin. The password changes every fortnight and is posted on the common room bulletin board. The other houses are united against us. You will do nothing to undermine the security of our common room. That means you will never bring a non-Slytherin down here. Understood?" She barked sternly.
The first years shuffled nervously as they nodded and murmured in agreement. She sniffed as if dissatisfied with their response but led them into the common room anyway.
The large common room was filled with black leather and dark woods. Oversized couches, chairs and tables were scattered about. A huge fireplace dominated the room, and above it was a massive glass panel looking deep into Black Lake. Fish and other objects could be seen moving in the murky distance. The walls looked slightly damp. The room was colored in green and black, but had several well-lit corners scattered about, with small bookcases and comfortable looking chairs in close proximity.
A dozen portraits hung from the wall, each of them moving about and evaluating the Slytherin first years with a jaundiced eye. They were all wearing various degrees and shades of green, black and silver. Draco presumed they were past Slytherin professors assigned to watch and guard the common room. He didn't remember them from when he and Ron had used Hermione's polyjuice to gain entry.
"Gather around," Gemma commanded. She looked impatient as the first years slowly congregated in front of her as she stood before the fireplace.
"Professor Snape will be here in a moment to introduce himself. Be polite and respectful. He is an excellent Head of House and will look after you, if you behave properly. If not, then be prepared for long hours of punishment. He does not suffer fools gladly."
She turned and gestured to a half dozen students standing to her side. They were wearing the green and silver badges of a Slytherin prefect. "These are your prefects," she said as she introduced them one at a time. "If you have a question or problem, seek them out. That's what we're here for. Any questions?"
Draco kept his hand down as he observed his fellow first years. They shuffled around nervously but didn't speak.
He caught Pansy sending him a scowl. He smiled at her. Better he kept the wretch off balance. This was going to be a long seven years, he thought, and he suspected it would be better to deal with the problem known as Parkinson sooner rather than later.
Gemma was talking as he thought and then he heard, ". . . thank you, Ms. Farley." He looked up to see Professor Snape take her position in front of the first years, the prefect rejoining her fellows with a respectful look on her face.
"I am Professor Severus Snape. You will call me professor or sir." His voice was smooth, with an odd cadence to it. He briefly made eye contact with Draco, before moving on. Thankfully he made no attempt at Legilimency. "I have very few rules and expectations for my students. You will find that if you abide by my rules and meet my expectations, that your time in Slytherin House will be enjoyable. If you fail to do so, then you will find that I'm a harsh and unforgiving taskmaster. I will never take points from you, but you will find there are far worse things than mere points."
The first years were looking at him with rapt attention, except for Nott. The boy was staring off in space, with a vacant look in his eyes. Probably dreaming of an arithmancy equation, Draco thought amused.
"My expectations are simple. You will turn in your homework on time. You will score at least Acceptable in all classes by year's end. If you are having trouble, you will ask for tutoring from a prefect. You will conduct yourselves as ladies and gentlemen when in public view. Am I understood?" His glittering black eyes swept the dozen or so students, causing them to nervously nod their heads in agreement.
"Excellent," he replied, drawing out the word in a strange drawl. "My rules are also simple. My first rule is that you will stand united outside this common room. You will never attack a Slytherin or leave one to be attacked, within the castle proper. Slytherin stands united in opposition to the other three houses. They resent us as we are the leaders of the future. We care not for their resentment and will strike back if they act on it. Any questions?"
As anticipated no one spoke. All the students were listening with rapt attention. Snape's voice was almost hypnotic, Draco realized with a start. He would have had a marvelous career on radio.
Seemingly satisfied, he continued. "My second rule is that all disputes are handled in house. If you cannot resolve your differences with civilized discourse, then" he gestured to the arched doorway to his left, "you may challenge your opponent to a duel in the snake pit. A list of allowed spells is posted within the pit."
"But," his glare intensified, "if you use a spell not on the list, I will know. I will make your life a hell, supposing you are not expelled. If you challenge, your opponent is obligated to accept. You will follow the Code Duello. A prefect will referee the duel and set a time within forty-eight hours. Does this require further clarification?"
This time there was a question. A student Draco remembered vaguely as being called Runcorn was raising his hand.
"Your question?"
To Draco's surprise, Snape was not his usual snide or condescending self. He seemed genuinely curious.
Runcorn was nervous. "What if I don't want to fight?"
Blaise sneered at the answer, even as other first years looked at Runcorn with some sympathy.
"Then don't give them cause to challenge. If they make a request comply. If you don't want to comply, accept the pain that will be coming your way or get better at dueling." Snape's answer was brutal, but his tone was actually somewhat paternal. "There is a pecking order in Slytherin House. Your place in it will be decided by the sharpness of your wit or the speed and power of your wand."
Draco saw his classmates look around apprehensively. He didn't share their apprehension. This system was perfect for what he had planned. He would deprive Riddle of his recruiting ground before the next war.
"That said," Snape drawled as he looked at the prefects and around at the older students lurking in the shadows of the common room, "if you believe you are in real danger, or if an older student is trying to make you do something unseemly, tell a prefect or a portrait. They will bring it to my attention. The upper years are well aware that I am not kind to those who would abuse their positions."
There was a sigh of relief from the first years. Draco thought it came from Bulstrode, but he couldn't be sure. He was not privy to the inner workings of Slytherin in his dimension, but here it appeared Snape ran a tight ship, even if a brutal and callous one. He wondered if he'd have to kill this version of Snape, as he did in his past life.
Snape snapped his cloak tighter around himself. "Tomorrow is Monday. I will hand out your timetable at breakfast. Be there at 8 am. You can be early, but do not be late."
With that he strode out of the common room, his cloak billowing behind him. Draco wondered if he could get him to teach him that trick. It really was impressive.
Gemma took center position again. "The girls will follow me. The boys will follow Yaxley," she said pointing to a tall, heavyset, blond boy with a perpetual scowl on his face. "We'll take you to your dorms."
Draco found that, unlike Gryffindor, the Slytherin boys slept three to a room. More portraits lined the hallway, watching the comings and goings of the students. He was impressed. Snape, and maybe Dumbledore, had spies throughout Slytherin House. He made a note not to discuss anything sensitive in this part of the castle.
He was housed with Crabbe and Goyle, somewhat to his dissatisfaction. The three of them also shared a bathroom. Thankfully, there were no portraits in the dorm room or the attached bathroom.
Zabini and Nott would have been better roommates and more valuable resources to acquire, he thought, dissatisfied. Runcorn appeared to be a non-entity. On the other hand Crabbe and Goyle were loyal and not prone to thinking for themselves. He wondered if their placement with him was coincidence or something his father had put together before his death.
Regardless, he found his trunk was sitting before the bed furthest from the door. He swapped it with Crabbe's, who said nothing in protest as he took the bed closest to the door. He had many outings planned and wanted to reduce the risk detection by his roommates.
He quickly changed. The bed was a four poster, oversized and comfortable. He dropped his pouch on the desk adjacent to his bed. He pulled the curtains closed. Once out of sight, he cast a perimeter alarm charm around the bed. He was asleep within moments.
HPDM HPDM HPDM
AN #1: I toyed with the idea of Draco pretending to be a seer, mixing truth and lies, as a method to manipulate Harry. Then I thought this version of Draco Harry Potter is a warrior, a cold blooded killer, mentally and/or emotionally disturbed, but he's not a complete prat. Plus tactically it's a bad idea. If someone would read Harry's mind and picked up on Draco's 'seer' abilities, then Draco might have found himself under far too much scrutiny.
AN #2: Some may have noticed that this Harry is a lot more bookish than canon Harry. There is a reason for it which will be touched upon in later chapters. His upbringing is probably worse than canon (but sleeping in a cupboard and dodging frying pans is pretty darn abusive) but there was an outlet.