How Muggle Fairy Tales End

by MissMoondawn

Harry and Draco fall down a rabbit hole after getting into yet another petty squabble and find themselves in a land of Muggle fairy tales. Welcome to the Fableland. On their journey to escape, they experience many things and face many challenges, love being the greatest of them all.

Though his life had ended, his story had not. For someone loved him too much to allow it so...

"I'm not happy about it either Potter, but it seems we're really stuck together so just grow up and act like a bloody adult about it!"

Malfoy huffed while Harry stormed after him following the partnering of Aurors. The two of them were partnered together, and neither were pleased.

"Oh that's so rich coming from you!" Harry scoffed and Malfoy whirled halfway around, not stopping his stride, to level Harry with a withering glare:

"And just what is that supposed to mean?!" He snipped, voice rising.

Harry laughed sardonically and rolled his eyes:

"Oooh, Harry Potter didn't shake my hand because I was an entitled little brat so now I'm going to make his life hell because of it." He spoke in a mock high-pitched voice, a cruel grimace on his face the whole time.

Malfoy flushed and turned away, tossing Harry the two fingered salute over his shoulder:

"Fuck you Potter." He hissed, speeding up his pace.

"Oh yes and then he says I'm the one that needs to grow up." Harry grumbled and shook his head.

For the first time during their ridiculous row, Harry looked around. They appeared to have stormed out of the Ministry and crossed into some fields and woods out back, fighting the whole time. Malfoy didn't seem aware of where he was going, just stomping through the brush like the petulant child he never grew out of being. Harry sighed and followed after him, quite saddened to realize he can't just abandon him, since it wouldn't bode well to lose your partner on your first day.

At one point, a disturbance in the ground up ahead caught Harry's eye. It looked like a hole of some sorts and Malfoy was heading straight for it.

"Uh Malfoy..?" Harry spoke but the blonde either didn't hear him, or was ignoring him.

"Malfoy." Harry repeated a bit louder, but Malfoy was still not responding. He was almost upon the hole.

Just as Harry reached to grab his arm and forcefully stop him, Malfoy's foot dipped into the hole and he surged forwards, crying out while his arms flayed out to find purchase. Harry was quick to react and shot out, grabbing his arms in an attempt to haul him back, but that just caused his other foot to slide out from under him, hauling his entire lower half down into the hole. The sudden jerk tugged Harry forwards and he toppled head first down after Malfoy, his yelling lost to the wind as they fell.

Draco couldn't believe this was how he'd die. Falling down a dirty rabbit hole because of Potter and his idiocy. At least he'd be taking Potter down with him, though that was little solace in this situation.

Come to think of it, this rabbit hole was very deep. Unnaturally so. Though he couldn't make out much in the darkness around him, Draco could decipher he and Potter have been falling for an awfully long time.

Not long enough apparently, because in the next second he was slamming into a hard floor and groaning with pain. He expected Potter to come sprawling next to him any second now, but that never happened. Hoisting himself up with a wince, Draco looked around. He found himself in a hexagonal room, with doors lining each wall, and a single glass coffee table in the middle.

He had no clue how this could exist after a fuck knows how long of a tunnel, but apparently it could, and he had to find a way out. Draco reached for his wand, startled to find it cold and dead almost. It felt just like an ordinary stick, instead of an actual wand. It couldn't channel his magic anymore, which sent him into a brief state of panic. Taking a moment to calm down, Draco set about trying to find a way out of here. He stood and dusted himself off, approaching each door in turn and trying the handle, only to find them all locked. Every single fucking one, was locked. Turning around to the table, Draco realized a small vial sat on it alongside a tiny key. Draco considered the key for a moment, but quickly realized it was far too small for the keyholes on the doors. He approached and picked the vial up, peering into the shimmering, transparent liquid inside. A small torn parchment was attached to the cap.

'Drink Me.' It read.

Now if there was ever a dumb thing to do, it would be to obey the label. However, looking around, he realized there was next to nothing he could do. He very well couldn't climb back out up the tunnel he was spat out of, he couldn't use magic to escape, all of the potential exits were locked and this little vial was the only other thing in the room with him. It could be poison, it could be lethal, but unless he took some kind of action, he'd die down here anyways. So, Draco unstoppered the vial and brought it to his nose, trying to possibly sniff out any dangerous ingredients, but the smell was oddly pleasant. There was nothing for it then, Draco drank. The taste was a bit bland, though there was a flowery aroma to it.

He waited, and for a few seconds, nothing happened. Then suddenly, the room started growing farther and farther away from him and it didn't take him long to realize this potion was shrinking him. Cursing under his breath, Draco grew smaller and smaller, until finally, everything stilled. Looking around now, his surroundings were impossibly larger. Taking a deep breath, he made his way around, looking for something he might've missed the first time, only to find a tiny door about his current height carved into the corner of a wall. The tiny key popped into his head, but groaned in disdain realizing he was too small to reach it now.

Just how the bloody fuck did he get himself into this?

Making his way back to the glass table, he ruefully looked at the key sat atop it. Dropping his gaze with a heavy sigh, he noticed something else. There was a napkin nestled under the table's legs, with what looked to be a small cake resting on it. Draco picked it up, taking note that the frosting spelled something.

'Eat me.'

Well. He'd already drunk the bloody shrinking potion, what was another leap of faith? Draco bit into the cake. It had a very weird cinnnamony flavor. After a moment, he began growing again. And growing. And growing. Until his head hit the ceiling. Twigging what he needed to do from then on, he grabbed the key and chugged the rest of the vial. He shrunk down to proper size again, and made for the tiny door.

Inserting the key into the lock, he turned it and the door swung open.

When Harry came to, he realized he was sat at a long table accompanied by a mouse and a rabbit.

"Hatter, pass the crumpets will ya?" The tiny mouse chimed at him and Harry blinked. Hatter? Who was she talking about? He wasn't any kind of hatter? But sure enough, she was peering at him and Harry reached over for a crumpet to hand to her.

This scene felt awfully familiar, like something he'd heard of before, but he couldn't quite recall where.

Looking around, he was in a forest by an old, rotting windmill, and the rabbit and mouse were acting completely insane. Sipping from broken cups, chewing on plates instead of crumpets, laughing maniacally and spouting nonsense. It was a bit terrifying if he was being frank, but apparently they thought of him as one of their own so he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger.

Another thing he quickly noticed was that Malfoy was nowhere to be seen, which was quite worrisome as they fell down the same hole. He did remember the tunnel branching off into two at one point, so they must've fallen down two ways. He could only hope they ended up in the same place so that Harry could find him and get out of here...wherever here was.

Draco stepped into a colorful land with a lot of strange creatures and flowers he had never seen before. It was an entire new world, one he hadn't had a clue even existed. He seemed to have emerged into a forest, as he slowly made his way deeper, swallowing the incessantly rising panic, he came upon, what could possibly be dubbed the strangest sight of his life.

There was a caterpillar. A large blue caterpillar. Smoking. On a mushroom.

"Where the actual bloody fuck am I?" Draco muttered, brows furrowing.

"You're in Wonderland, stupid boy." The caterpillar huffed disdainfully.

Draco smarted, then sighed. Of course bugs talked here, why wouldn't they?

"Right. How do I get out?" Perhaps this caterpillar would be so generous as to tell him.

It looked at him strangely.

"You're from the land above, are you not?"

Draco nodded, shifting his weight.

"That explains why you're such a droll."

"Right, since you'd rather insult me than answer my question, I'll have to find my own way out." Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes and made to turn away.

"There's another like you here, your friend, yes?" The caterpillar's words stopped him.

"I wouldn't call him a friend but yes there is another like me." Draco about faced once more, crossing his arms over his skinny chest.

The caterpillar tilted its head:

"Oh, yess, I wouldn't say he's your friend either, hehe. There's a portal of sorts, in the Red Queen's castle, though that is a suicide mission I advise against."

"And who might you be to advise against anything?" Draco snipped, nervousness gnawing at him.

"Why, I'm Absolem, stupid boy. I'm wise and absolute."

"Right as much a pleasure as this has been, I must be off." Draco waved him off and swallowed a lump. If..when...he found Potter, they'd have to break into a castle and find some portal. Easy, right?

The caterpillar had no parting words for him as he left, and Draco just tried to get his bearings amidst this confusing forest. There was hardly any a path to follow, so Draco just picked a direction and hoped for the best.

That was how night caught him. The crescent moon hung above him in the dark sky, making him even more restless. He felt ever so helpless without his magic, all alone in this fuck-knows-where place. He'd like to think people were out searching for him and Potter by now, but he couldn't be sure whether time worked differently in this world than it did above, so there was no guarantee of anything, which was terrifying.

Gazing upon the young moon, Draco noticed something a bit off with it. It was slid into an odd angle, almost resembling a...grin..?

As soon as that odd realization struck him, two big, purple cat eyes blinked above the moon, indeed forming a grinning face. Draco stopped in his tracks.

A cat faded into his view around the grin, and floated down to Draco's eye level.

"Helloooo" It spoke, the smile ever plastered on its face, voice trailing off into the hazy silence of the ominous forest.

After the caterpillar, little could surprise Draco by way of speaking animals.

"Hello?" He responded, rubbing a hand down his face, wishing this nonsense was just a bad dream. He'd been aimlessly wandering a full day, and still hasn't found Potter or a way to get home.

"I hear you're planning to sneak into the Red Queen's castle." The cat floats around him, vanishing into thin air before reappearing right in Draco's face, startling him.

"I-" Draco didn't know how to respond. He didn't know if this cat could be trusted, who knew what kind of connections ran between the denizens of Wonderland?

"Allow me to take you to the Hatter. Trust me, you'll want to go to him." The cat offered, spinning upside down, blinking innocently at Draco.

"Why would I want to go to this hatter?" Draco shook his head. This was absurd.

"Why would you want to go to Harry The Hatter? Silly question. He can help you." The cat tutted, and vanished from sight once more, appearing a few feet away. "Coming?"

Harry the...HARRY! Potter!

The moment it clicked, Draco hastened after the cat, unable to believe he was actually happy to see Potter for once.

Harry's been stuck at this tea party for an entire day, the rabbit and mouse stopping him whenever he attempted to leave. He couldn't slip past them, they always seemed to see it coming and shove him back into his chair. Currently he was pacing in front of the table, waiting for their conversation to pick up so that he might try to run to go look for Malfoy, when there was a hustle through the bush.

Harry turned to peer into the brush, only to find...a cat, floating out with a huge grin on its face. Sighing dejectedly Harry shook his head when..Draco Malfoy emerged behind the cat. He looked miserable and mussed up, but it was him. Harry could honestly say he had never once been so happy to see Malfoy in his life.

"Malfoy oh my God!" He yelled out inadvertently as he stepped up to the blonde. The moment Malfoy recognized him he flew forwards towards him, crashing into Harry with great force, nearly sending them toppling over. Harry was a bit stunned to find Malfoy had hugged him, but he accepted the gesture, wrapping his arms around him too, deciding that hugging was the least of their problems right now.

After a moment Malfoy pulled away:

"Never once did I think I'd be happy to see you Potter, but am I glad."

Harry nodded:

"Yes I know. What happened?"

Malfoy threw his arms out in a manner that Harry had come to learn meant 'dramatic re-enactment of something trivial', though in this case, he was certain it was not anything 'trivial'.

As Malfoy retold him everything that's happened to him, Harry realized why everything seemed so familiar to him.

"I know where we are Malfoy!" Harry piped up, allowing himself a smile. Malfoy turned to him with a hopeful expression.

"We're in a Muggle fairytale called Alice In Wonderland."

Malfoy's face dropped again:

"Right. I've been told that there's some portal in some Red Queen's castle?"

Harry strained to remember back to when he was 11, locked away in his cupboard with Dudley's old storybooks, reading them to pass the time. Tried to remember the details of the story about Alice in Wonderland.

"The Red Queen...? Oh, the one that executes everyone, right. Nothing for it then Malfoy, we have to get into her castle." He glanced back at the tea party, and found the cat holding court attention of the other two. He grabbed Malfoy by the elbow and tugged him into the forest, walking quickly as far away as he could get.

"I've been trying to get away from them for the past day. Somehow always managed to wrestle me back." Harry mumbled when he deemed them far away enough.

Malfoy didn't say anything much other than a hum. They walked in silence through the woods, until they managed to come upon a lush garden.

There were high hedges, white roses in abundance and a sweet little path to a towering palace in the distance.

And there was also the sound of wailing from within the hedge maze.

"We found it Potter! Come on!" Malfoy made for the pathway, but Harry took notice of the wails.

"Wait a second Malfoy. Do you hear that?" Harry was already making his way into the maze, and he could hear Malfoy cursing him out before following after him.

"The crying? Who cares Potter, we need to go. Please don't go Gryffindor on me now."

Harry ignored him and followed the sound of heartbreak to a gathering of...playing cards hunched over a white rose bush.

"Uh, hello? Are you okay?" Harry called out to them and the cards startled apart. Malfoy was grumbling next to him but Harry paid it no heed.

"Who are you?" An Ace of Spades asked.

"Visitors. We came to visit the Red Queen, but heard a ruckus over here and came to check it out." Malfoy smoothly replied in a breath. Harry was glad for it, because he was sure had it been left to him, he'd have bumbled out some terrible excuse.

The cards looked on with fresh terror at the mention of the queen. The Queen of Diamonds amongst them wailed:

"Oh the queen will have our heads!"

"What? Why?" Harry blinked.

"She asked us to plant red roses but we made a mistake and planted white. She's coming down to take a walk through here later today, and once she sees this, it'll be off with our heads."

That was certainly not good. What kind of tyrant queen took off heads for such trivial mistakes?

"Can't you fix it somehow?" Malfoy asked, though his voice betrayed how hopeless he knew the question to be.

"How?" A Six of Hearts asked, turning back to ruefully gaze upon the offending white roses.

Harry bit his lip and tried to think of something to get it sorted.

"You could just...paint the white roses red?" He suggested, a note of question in his voice betraying that he did not 100% believe his words.

"Paint the...?" The cards exchanged looks. "We could try. Thank you!" They called in unison before scattering to grab what they need.

"Really Potter? Paint the roses?" Malfoy scrunched up his nose and Harry shoved at him:

"Shut up, I had to think of something quickly! Besides, it won't do us any good if the queen is in a murderous mood while we are breaking into her home."

Malfoy tilted his head in a 'i didn't know you had it in you' motion, which Harry wasn't sure whether or not to take offense to.

Regardless, they helped the cards paint the roses before it was time for the Red Queen to take her stroll.

Settling behind a hedge near the path the queen would go down, Harry and Malfoy waited. A distant march of a few guards alerted them that someone was coming.

As the queen and her guard made their way down the path, Harry strained to make out their faces. When the parade was passing by them, Harry recognized the queen, and his stomach dropped.

He turned to Malfoy, who looked just as pale and terrified as Harry felt.

"Malfoy...is that..?" Harry murmured, but there was no point asking really. He'd know her anywhere.

"Yep. It's dear old auntie Bella." Malfoy swallowed.

"First of all, how the hell is your bloody aunt still alive? I saw Molly blast her to bits. Second of all, how the hell are we supposed to break in Bellatrix's castle and not get decapitated? Third of all-"

"Potter, do shut up." Malfoy snipped, silencing Harry mid rant. "I don't know how the hag's alive, but she is so we ought to deal with that rather than pointlessly panic. I'd think you adept at sneaking around considering how much and how well you did it in school so I fail to see how it's suddenly an issue now."

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to still. Malfoy was right.

"You're right, we need to make a plan." He nodded to Malfoy who joined him in discussing the best way to get in and find the portal.

"Malfoy. Absolutely not." Harry hissed about half an hour later, staring at Malfoy in wide-eyed disbelief.

"Think about it Potter. Her servants are playing cards and talking animals. We can't exactly pass as one of them. Besides, you know Bellatrix is bat shit insane, the only way we're getting anywhere is if she takes a liking to us." Malfoy replied, lifting his eyebrows.

Harry was having none of it though:

"That woman killed my godfather, killed Dobby and God knows how many other people and you're just expecting me to-to go in there and-" He couldn't even say it, he felt sick at the mere thought.

Malfoy seemed to sober up. He was silent for a few beats, then sighed:

"Look Potter, I'm sorry about everything that's happened to you, even I can admit you didn't deserve it, but we need to get out of here somehow. Unless you have a better idea, I don't think we have much of a choice."

Harry stared at Malfoy, pleasantly surprised by the honesty, desperately trying to think of any other way.

"Can't we just...sneak in through a window or something?" He pleaded.

"And then? We've no clue where the portal is, what's the layout of the palace or how heavily guarded it is. We can't sneak in as servants, and the chances of not running afoul guards is slim to none. We can't use our magic to defend ourselves here, she'll have our heads if she catches us, and you know that as well as I do."

Harry cursed under his breath, mind racing to find another way:

"Maybe we can get those cards we helped to tell us where it is and then sneak directly into there? You know, a favor for a favor."

Malfoy blinked then snickered under his breath:

"That's surprisingly...Slytherin...of you."

Harry grinned and shrugged, a load off his shoulders:

"You've no idea Malfoy. Let's go, I think they're still somewhere in the garden."

Malfoy nodded and they made their way through the hedge maze, stumbling upon the Ace of Spades from earlier. The card seemed surprised to see them:

"You're still here?"

"Yes, and we need your help." Harry spoke, hoping this would work. "Consider it repaying us for saving your lives." That perhaps sounded a bit far-fetched, but a bit of embellishing never killed anyone.

"Do you happen to know where in the palace is the portal to the above land located?" Malfoy leaned forwards with a far too dramatically serious look on his face.

The card looked at them funny for a moment, before answering in a low whisper:

"I don't know about a portal, but there is a mirror in the queen's chambers that occasionally reflects different landscapes and tiny cottages, so perhaps that's what you're looking for? The queen doesn't allow anyone but the servants into her chambers though. Why are you even asking this?"

Harry swallowed thickly, the world falling away into white noise while Malfoy covered for them. Their way out of here was...in Bellatrix's room...Oh hell no.

As soon as the card was on its merry way, Malfoy turned to Harry with a grim expression.

"No." Harry shook his head, voice somber. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

"We can't break into her rooms." Malfoy was quiet, as if it pained him too to speak of this.

"Malfoy no." Harry started backing away, feet fumbling backwards. There had to be another way. There had to be.

"Potter, please-" Malfoy tried, walking forwards as Harry backed away.

"Malfoy I am not going to attempt to seduce Bellatrix Lestrange!" Harry snapped, eyes wide and terrified. He couldn't believe that seduction was their best bet out of here. Refused to let it come to that. He wouldn't betray Sirius by sinking so low as to seduce the woman who killed him.

"Potter." Malfoy's quiet drawl snapped Harry out of it. Harry blinked and focused. "I have another idea we can try first and if it doesn't work..."

Harry perked up at that and jerked his chin in a 'go-on' fashion.

"Her room is up in that tower. There's plenty of ivy to climb up. I'll go up there first and check if the coast is clear, and then we'll go in. If we get caught...well, you're good at evading death so.."

Harry nodded:

"Thank you Malfoy."

Harry watched Malfoy scale the wall with surprising grace. He seemed very certain of what he was doing. He was halfway up already and Harry only hoped he wouldn't get in trouble, because that was the last thing they needed. Pressing his back into the cool stone of the tower, Harry slid down to the earth, to wait for Malfoy's signal. It was only now properly sinking in how screwed they were. Trapped in a muggle fairy tale land no one knows exists. If their friends are searching for them up there, they're likely stuck in a rut. After all, what sane person suspects rabbit holes of being portals to different bloody worlds?

He was snapped out of his reverie by yelling. A lot of yelling. He shot to his feet and stared up, only to find Malfoy getting dragged over the lip of the window by three playing card guards. He was twisting against them so jerkily and bodily, his wand slipped from his robes and plummeted through the air down at Harry's feet. Staring in a blinding terror up at the scene, Harry wished more than anything he could use his magic. There was, however, nothing he could do but watch as Malfoy was captured and hauled away by the guard.

Harry picked up Malfoy's wand from the grass in numb shock. He got caught...Now what? Forcing himself to steady and clear his head, Harry focused back at the castle. The little window was still wide open from when they took Malfoy. This was Harry's shot to get in. Tucking Malfoy's wand into his own robes, Harry grabbed the ivy plants and hauled himself up, starting to climb. Brick after brick, he made it higher, closer to where he needed to be, heart heavy in his chest as he realized what he had to do. There was nothing for it anymore.

Making it up to the windowsill, Harry peered inside the room. Empty. Perfect. Hoisting himself up through the window, Harry landed with a thud in the still room. He was inside now. Standing up and dusting himself off, his eyes immediately found the mirror the Ace of Spades told them about. The golden frame shimmered in the sunlight flittering in and Harry approached it, biting his lip. It was right there. His ticket out of here. As he peered into the glass, Harry saw the light wavering and overlapping, painting different lush imagery that definitely did not reflect the room he was in. Reaching out a tentative hand, Harry brushed the surface and it rippled, the tips of his fingers dipping through the portal. It would be so easy...

Harry pulled away.

He couldn't just leave Malfoy here to die.

Turning his back on the mirror, Harry made his way to the windowsill, leaned on it and thought of a plan to save Malfoy's arse.

Throwing the doors to the main hall open in a grand gesture Harry sauntered in confidently, swallowing his fears. The guards immediately had him at spear point and up ahead, Bellatrix in her blood red dress stood from her throne with a crazed look in her eye. A look Harry knew all too well.

"Now now gentlemen, there is hardly a need for such assegai, I come in peace." He forced his voice out smooth and strong.

Gritting his teeth, Harry bowed low to Bellatrix, not letting the edge of bitter loathing into his words:

"Your majesty, if you would." He glanced at the guard and she appraised him for a mere moment longer before nodding to them, they stepped away immediately.

"State your name and business at the palace." Bellatrix spoke, sounding more sane and collected than Harry had ever seen her be.

"I am Harry the Hatter, and I've come seeking employment. I would simply love to hat her majesty, if she would allow." Harry ploughed on with his story. She lifted a dark eyebrow, pursing her lips.

"Very well then. We shall see what you're worth. Show him to the crafting chambers." She called out, snapping her fingers high in the air. A few...frogs dressed as palace servants came to escort Harry to these rooms. He made sure to memorize the layout on the way, mapping out hallways and rooms while only vaguely feigning interest in what the servants were telling him.

As they came upon where he would be staying, Harry snapped back to attention.

"The queen's in a kind mood today, I hear there's to be an execution tomorrow afternoon." One frog murmured to the other while they opened the doors for Harry.

His heart lodged into his throat.

"An execution?" He blurted before he could stop himself.

The two frogs looked up at him and nodded:

"Yes. Apparently a trespasser was caught attempting to sneak into the queen's chambers. He is to be executed tomorrow. Shame, such a pretty face."

Harry swallowed and nodded, ushering them out. He had less time than he'd hoped, and he couldn't waste a damn second.

He hadn't a single clue how to make hats, but there was no time like the present to learn so he got to work right away, hoping he could pass off the lack of skill as a stylistic choice or some such crap.

It was late in the evening when Harry requested an audience with Bellatrix, having thrown together a dozen hats, hat being a generous term, for her. She allowed it and he was lead into the salon where she rested on a lounge, idly twirling her disgusting black hair around one finger.

"Your majesty, I've made these hats for you to try on." He announced, biting his tongue. She made to stand but Harry thought quickly and mournfully rushed to her side:

"Please, do not rise. Allow me." He hated himself so much then and there, but Malfoy's life was worth it. He couldn't let the bastard die here.

Grabbing the first hat, he set it atop her head, allowing his fingers to linger in her hair. It was tightly coiled and dry, Harry had to keep from grimacing. She seemed thoughtful, then shook her head. He removed the hat and grabbed another, twisting it at the right angle to be able to brush her neck under the pretense of adjusting it. He let his touch stay through her hair and upon the skin of her neck, biting his lip so hard he was drawing blood. Harry swallowed a load after load of repulsive bile rising up his throat, reminding himself constantly this was for Malfoy.

Bellatrix's eyelids fluttered and she leaned into his touch, almost imperceptibly so, but Harry was hyper aware of her every breath. Idly skimming his fingers up the length of her neck and tracing her ear, he gripped the hat once more:

"Is this one to your liking, majesty?" He spoke through the lump rising in his throat. Bellatrix smiled a languid smile that sent cold tendrils of a familiar terror up his spine. Fear seized him for a moment, and he couldn't focus. The Snatchers, the Manor-Malfoy lied for him. Malfoy saved him then. Harry couldn't abandon him now. Bellatrix's snake like voice pulled him back to the present:

"The hat? Not so much. The company however, is proving to be very enjoyable. Tell me, Harry the Hatter, what else are you capable of?"

Setting his shoulders in a roll, Harry leaned down so his lips hovered by her ear. He felt her eyes on him from her periphery. Harry spoke:

"I could tell you, my queen, or I could show you." Nearly throwing up in his mouth beyond those words, Harry straightened up and braced his hands on her shoulders, fingers fanned out so they reached the very tips of her collarbones. A shiver went through Bella.

"My, such boldness. I like it. I allow you to escort me to my chambers for this eve." She purred and Harry took a deep breath to calm his erratic heartbeat:

"If I may ask a small favor of you first."

Bellatrix stood and faced Harry, pressing closer to him. She was ever so slightly taller than him.

"Of course, my esteemed Hatter."

Harry braced himself and gripped her hips, though all he wanted was to run as far away from this woman was possible.

"I understand there is to be an execution tomorrow noon." He spoke, meeting her gaze head on with faux fondness. "I would beg of you to free this prisoner."

"What?" She hissed low, her demeanor changing in a second. Harry thought quickly, and placed a palm flat over the small of her back, keeping her pressed to him.

"It was a giant misunderstanding, your highness. He did not mean harm to you or your home, he was climbing the ivy in an effort to prove his worth to his friends." Harry lied through his teeth, spewing the first bullshit story he could think of. Bellatrix studied him carefully for a moment, so Harry slid his hand up her back, until he was cupping the nape of her neck.

"I...see.." Her breathing came in shallow pants now, and Harry didn't allow one of his facial muscles a single twitch. He leaned closer, just ever so slightly, just enough to get her to notice. Horrified as he was to be seducing Bellatrix Lestrange, the plan seemed to be working splendidly, which was the last thread of sanity Harry desperately grasped onto.

"I suppose in that case, I can make an exception. The prisoner shall be released at dawn, you have my word. Until then, I believe you are to keep me company, Harry."

Harry felt a stone lodge in his stomach. Was there a way out of this mess? Just when he was about to give in to the horrifying notion, finding himself backed into a corner he couldn't crawl out of, one of the frog servants from earlier burst into the salon.

He and Bellatrix sprung apart in surprise and she straightened out her dress and hair best she could, though she was still flushed.

"Your majesty! The court! The court is full of impostors! Liars! They've been caught plotting against you! You must come handle this immediately!"

Harry had gotten a glimpse of these courtiers when he made his grande entrance and noticed they all had seemed nervous and suspicious. Next to him, Harry could see Bellatrix pale, he could see her eyes darken with an insane burning rage. She flushed in anger and screamed:

"OUT! OUT ALL OF YOU! OFF WITH THEIR HEADS! OFF WITH THE COURTIER'S HEADS!" And then, in that moment, she was the Bellatrix Harry had always known. She threw her arms out, a gust of wind slamming through the room. Neither Harry nor the little frog servant needed to be told twice, they saw themselves out of there as quickly as possible.

Harry didn't get a wink of sleep that night, hoping beyond hope Bellatrix would make good on her word and release Malfoy in the morning. Unlike her actual self, here she was mostly sane, so Harry allowed himself to squander just that little bit of hope.

When the sun broke through the clouds at dawn, a servant was sent to fetch him and bring him to the throne room. Gnawing on his lip the entire time, he followed silently, emerging into the grand room with a tremble in his steps. Seeing Malfoy standing in the middle of the room, before Bella's throne, was such a great relief he could've started laughing. But he didn't. He maintained himself as the servant lead him into the center of the room. Malfoy seemed shocked to see Harry, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Once they were standing side by side, Harry couldn't help but press their shoulders in greeting, never moving his gaze from Bellatrix sitting poised on her seat in front of them.

"This is the prisoner, correct, Harry?" She asked, voice softer than Harry ever heard. He nodded:

"Yes, that's him. Again, I apologize terribly, m'lady, it was an honest misunderstanding."

She nodded and waved a hand to the guards. They approached and unshackled Malfoy, leaving him a free man once more. There was silence for a few seconds, before Bella spoke once more:

"I was saddened to think there would be no execution to enjoy over afternoon tea, however, with the recent news I've discovered, it seems we will be having an execution after all. You are welcome to stay, Harry, as is your friend here should you wish to do so."

She allowed her words to hang in the air for a moment, before she stood:

"As always, I will be the executioner, and so I must go prepare myself and my tools." And so, she disappeared down a foreign hallway. Harry and Malfoy were dismissed. Holding Malfoy by the elbow, Harry led him through the busy halls and up towards the queen's chamber, waiting until they were secluded enough to speak:

"Are you okay Malfoy?"

Malfoy blinked at him for a moment and cleared his throat:

"Yes, I'm fine. You came for me.." He sounded absolutely floored by the notion and Harry stopped, indignant:

"Of course I bloody came for you, what, did you really think I'd leave you here to die?"

Malfoy's silence was answer enough. Harry scoffed, kind of hurt:

"Oh have some faith in me, I was the one who had to go and seduce your psychopathic aunt to get you out. Now let's go, the portal's in her rooms."

The raven was pleased to find Malfoy had the decency to flush in shame. Not saying a word more, Harry rounded the corner and pulled Malfoy into Bellatrix's room after him, letting the door shut behind them.

Approaching the mirror, Harry and Malfoy exchanged a final glance before stepping through, into whatever awaited them beyond.

Queen Narcissa sat by her window one beautiful winter morning, admiring the softly falling snow just beyond. A shock of red amidst the endless white caught her eye.

A single red rose bloomed in spite of the cold and chill.

The queen was awed by such a sight, and made her way out to the gardens to collect this resilient rose. However, as her fingers enclosed around the stem, she jerked her hand back, having pricked her finger upon the rose's thorns. Three drops of her scarlet blood stained the untouched snow a lively crimson.

She looked upon it, and thought:

"If only I had a child with skin pale as snow, eyes gray as sky, hair fair as sunlight and lips red as blood."

She knew not then, that her wish would come true not long after, with the birth of a boy with skin pale as snow, eyes gray as sky, hair fair as sunlight and lips red as blood.

Draco came to sitting by a well. Lifting his head and blinking dumbly in the sunlight for a few moments, he tried to get a hold of his bearings. There was a castle rising high behind him, the sight of which made his heart drop into his shoes. They weren't out of the woods yet apparently. He sat up with a heavy groan and scoffed to the heavens. Where the bloody hell were they now and where the hell was Potter? He'd come to rescue Draco when he was captured back in Alice in Wonderland, and Draco didn't really get to thank him for it. Potter seemed hurt when he realized that Draco hadn't really had much faith for escape, which unsettled Draco for some reason.

Well, there was no time for that now, as he needed to go find Potter and get out of whatever Muggle fairy tale this was. If there was anything Draco had learned from this experience, it's that Muggles were weird and morbid as all hell, and also had funny interpretations of magic. Draco stood and stretched, turning back to the castle, only to find a pair of cold eyes staring him down from a window high up. Was that...Umbridge?

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" Queen Dolores reverently muttered to the gilded mirror hanging on her wall.

A heat erupted behind the smooth glass, licking up into a dance of flames winding around an old lady of proud stature and gentle eyes, set behind a pair of round glasses. The lady had an elegant bun wound around her head, her gray hair tucked away perfectly. A tall, pointy witch's hat sat atop her head.

"You are revered across the lands, that is no secret Dolores. However, a boy with skin pale as snow, hair fair as sunlight, eyes gray as sky and lips red as rose far outshines you." She spoke, her hands folded at her front.

Dolores' cheeks heated in an angry flourish and she spun around to face the window overlooking the well the boy often slumbered by.

"Draco." She hissed the name as if it were very poison on her tongue.

"His person will be forever remembered and praised, while yours Dolores...yours will fade away.."

Dolores slammed a fist into the mirror, pretty face contorted with indignation:

"That's enough out of you, slave from the mirror."

And as the visage in the mirror began to melt away as if it were made of ice itself, it heaved a final disappointed sigh:

"My name is Minerva, Dolores."

Not paying the magic mirror a second glance, Dolores threw open the doors to her balcony, stepping out and breathing deeply. Beauty and power were so deeply embedded into her very being, she simply had to be the master of them. No other could ever be allowed to rise above her.

And so...

"Bring me the Huntsman." Dolores strode through the halls of her castle, calling out to her servants as she made for the throne room. Upon entering, she found her loyal hunter, Fenrir Greyback, awaiting her arrival, bent at the knee.

"Ah, my faithful huntsman, always here when I am in need of you." Dolores cooed, a sickly smile pasting over her face.

"It is my sworn duty, your majesty." Fenrir spoke, lifting his head to meet her eyes. Dolores nodded approvingly:

"Take Draco out to the woods today, and kill him." She ordered, voice heavy with jealous rage.

Fenrir sucked in a breath through his teeth:

"Your majesty, surely-"

"Do it. Or there will be consequences." She leaned back in her seat, reaching to grab something from her robes. It was a box with a clasp shaped like a heart through which a sword was driven.

"To ensure you've completed the task, bring me his heart in this." Tossing the box to Fenrir, Dolores crossed one leg over the other, sending her huntsman off on his duty with a jerk of her chin.

With a heavy sigh, he sauntered out to the gardens.

Just as Draco was getting his bearings, he heard someone approaching him. When he turned, his blood turned to ice in his veins. Fenrir Greyback.

"W-What?" He mumbled, closing his eyes against the onslaught of dark memories.

"Come with me, young prince." Fenrir murmured, looking for all the world, down-trodden. Draco blinked, unable to quite comprehend this yet. This was not the same Fenrir he remembered, though he supposed his aunt was a whole lot more proper sane in that first fairytale than she had ever been through her life, so this quite drastic a difference shouldn't of come as all that surprising.

Unsure of what fairy tale he was stuck in, or how it's supposed to play out, Draco followed Fenrir into the forest beyond the palace grounds.

The deeper into these unfamiliar woods that they went the more worried Draco grew. What did Fenrir want to do with him of all people? He'd tried asking before, but Fenrir just shook his head with a mournful sigh and kept walking.

Finally, they stopped before an old, bent tree. Fenrir then turned to Draco, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder:

"Queen Dolores wants you dead. She's sent me to kill you, but I can not do so. She requires your heart in this box be brought back to her. I shall hunt something in these woods to that end, but you, you must run. As far as away as you can, and never return again."

Draco swallowed. He'd gladly run from here, if only he knew where to run to. To Potter perhaps. But he didn't know where that bastard was either.

"Go, young prince! GO!" Fenrir shoved at him and Draco didn't need to be told twice, he ran, figuring he'd been screwed ever since he fell down that fucking rabbit hole. The only way this could get worse was if he found Potter dead in a ditch somewhere.

Shaking that disturbing thought out of his mind he kept pushing through the thick underbrush, hoping this nightmare would end soon.

It wasn't long after that that he stumbled out into a clearing with a tiny cottage nestled into it. Draco rejoiced upon seeing it, surely there would be people to turn to for help there. He approached and peered in through the window. It was dark and incredibly dusty inside, as well as completely empty.

Well then.

Draco was sure that once he explained the situation the owners wouldn't be too bothered when they returned so he opened the door and walked in. Dear Gods, it really was abysmally filthy in here. No, no, that just couldn't be allowed to pass. As insane as he knew he was being, he just couldn't bare to stand surrounded by all this dust and cobwebs and Merlin knows what other junk. Rummaging through the cottage until he found a broom, Draco began to sweep and whistle quietly under his breath.

Draco was harshly rolled off the bed he had inadvertently fallen asleep in after cleaning the entire cottage. He hit the floor with a thump and sat up, reaching for his wand, only to remember that was pointless as he could not use magic here.

"Just who are you and what are you doing here in our house?" A tiny man with a beard and brown cap asked, a scowl on his face. Six others just like him popped into Draco's field of vision.

"My name is Draco, and the queen wants to kill me so I hid here?" He rushed in a breath, praying they'd believe him.

They did. Except the scowling one. An excellent Slytherin in Draco's opinion.

After introductions were over, Draco was sure he'd never heard stranger or blander names in his life. Bashful, Doc, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, and Sneezy. He, however, refrained from commenting, since he really didn't want to get kicked out into the woods tonight.

He learned these dwarfs worked in a mine nearby, and went there everyday. They struck a deal that Draco could stay with them as long as he cleaned up a bit for them while they were off at work. Draco honestly didn't mind playing house elf until he could figure out how to get out.

"Hello, Fenrir. I take it that your mission's complete." Dolores grinned, a twitch in her face as soon as Fenrir crossed the threshold of the castle.

"It is." He lied, and handed her the box with a fawn's heart inside it. Dolores opened it and grimaced for a moment before setting it aside:

"Excellent. Thank you, huntsman. You are dismissed."

After he left, she rose from her throne and made for her chambers, straight to her mirror. She pressed her palms against the smooth glass and murmured to it:

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?"

Swirls of warmth and flame danced and tangled before Minerva's figure arose from amidst them, called to wake by her mistress.

"You are still revered across the lands, Dolores. Though that may be so, you are still not the fairest." Minerva dipped her head while she spoke.

Dolores snarled, enraged by such words:

"Impossible! My huntsman brought me the boy's heart!"

Minerva sighed heavily and dipped a finger into the flames surrounding her, fanning through them, observing them swirl around her.

"The boy's heart is precisely where it should be, and that box is not it."

Dolores's temper simmered at the thought her hunter betrayed her in the worst of ways. Now this mirror slave found it fit to mock her. This could not be allowed to pass.

"I've contained you within that mirror Minerva, it is all you are now. Mock me again, and I will see it fit to destroy it."

Minerva simply shook her head and allowed the flames to rise over her, fading her from view once more.

These news were not good. How dare that boy gallivant around as if he's of any worth? Depraving her of her rightful adoration. No.

"If you want something done right, do it yourself." She murmured while she prepared the vest.

The next morning, the dwarfs left bright and early and Draco was left alone to tend to the cottage. So far, this fairy tale wasn't as terrifying as the last one, besides the whole 'tear-his-heart-out' thing.

He mostly lounged around wondering where it was that Potter could have ended up. He didn't know how vast this kingdom was or where to start to looking. It was worrisome, but there wasn't much he could do for now.

A knock on the door snapped him out of his dozing. Draco made his way to the door and cracked it open, only to find a young boy with a bag over his shoulder. He looked terrified and seemingly alone.

"Hello? Can I help you?" Draco asked him.

"Oh hi mister! I got lost in this forest and I was..well wondering whether you could show me the way to the palace? I can figure it out from there."

Draco stepped out and peered into the woods. He ran in a pretty straight line to get here, so he figured the kid would be fine. After pointing him in the proper direction, the boy went off, only to remember something and return:

"Wait! Let me give you something as a sign of my gratitude!" The small boy pulled a silk vest from his bag and offered it to Draco.

The blonde accepted and smiled at him, it was a nice gesture. Draco slipped the vest on to humor the kid, it seemed to fit him like a glove.

However, after a moment, it tightened around him. At first, Draco thought he was only imagining the whole thing, but then it started to pull tauter and tauter, almost as if it were shrinking on him. It squeezed all the air out of his lungs and Draco began to cough and splutter, collapsing to the ground. He tore at the vest but it was no use, it only pressed in harder. The lack of oxygen was making him dizzy and all he had time to notice before his vision went black was that the boy was gone.

A boy traipsed through the forest, happy as can be, humming a song under his breath.

'No more, no more, now I'm the fairest of them all, no more, no more, none shall take what I yearn for.'

Draco woke up coughing. His head felt fuzzy and his ribs ached. What happened? Making to slowly sit up, he looked around. He was still in the dwarfs' cottage. The last thing he remembered was a young boy asking for directions, giving him this...vest as gratitude? But then the vest began constricting and...after that it all gets fuzzy.

He found Doc sitting next to his bedside. Draco cleared his throat:

"What happened?"

The dwarf sat up and huffed:

"Don't you ask me. We come home and find you passed out and not breathing. Had to cut open that silly vest to get you to liven up."

"Oh. Right. Thanks." Draco nodded. Does Umbridge know Fenrir didn't actually kill him? Is she sending other people to finish the job? The blonde bit his lip, really feeling the sheer urgency of escaping as soon as possible. He had to start looking for Potter today.

After asking the dwarfs whether or not they've seen Potter or someone who at least looked like him, they seemed confused.

"Prince Harry of the Potters is the prince of the neighboring kingdom. How would you ever know him?" Grumpy asked, in his usual distrustful manner.

Draco was floored.

"Uhm...I-I don't. I've just heard of him is all.." He waved them off, lost for anything more to say.

Potter was a bloody prince in this one?! Lucky bastard landed as royalty. Worst of all, he's in another kingdom altogether! Now how was Draco ever supposed to find him? He had no money in this world to pay to be taken there, he had no clue how to get there on foot, and even if he did, there's no guarantee he'd even be allowed an audience.

Bloody hell.

Dolores strode into her chambers, a wide smile on her face. Shedding her glamour, she stretched out and laughed. It was done. The boy was no longer a threat.

Pressing a palm to Minerva's mirror, Dolores called for her:

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" Dolores just wanted to hear Minerva say it herself really.

A sizzle of heat later, Minerva graced Dolores with her presence:

"The answer to that question will not change no matter how many times you ask it. Things don't shrivel up and die just because you do not like them Dolores."

Dolores frowned. What?

"What are you talking about? The boy is gone, I've made sure of it personally."

Minerva rolled her eyes with a sigh:

"Have you? Perhaps you were not thorough enough, my dear friend, because the boy is well and lively."

Tensing, the queen inhaled deeply. Why didn't it work? How is the little nuisance still alive?

"I suppose I shall have to try again then." Dolores hissed through clenched teeth.

Minerva stepped through the flames, closer to the mirror's surface. Her eyes spoke of grief:

"Dolores, stop this madness. Listen to reason-"

Dolores whirled around and threw a fist up while she spoke:

"No! Listening to reason would have still had me scrubbing the floors under your crown and rule. No, Minerva, following my desires is precisely what I should do, what I will do. It got me your crown and kingdom, and it will see that boy dead."

Minerva winced at the outburst, allowing the flames to coil around her wrists and forearms. After another moment, she turned her disappointed gaze away, and faded.

Queen Dolores whirled around, turning her back on Minerva's Mirror. Thinking for a moment, she reached up and pulled a sleek hairpin from her curly brown hair, letting it tumble down her neck. It reflected the sunlight streaking in through her heavy drapes and Dolores admired it for a moment. A wolfish grin twisted her features:

"Perfect."

When Draco was left by the dwarfs the next day he was restless. He couldn't settle down for a moment. He had no clue how he was going to contact Potter, what he needed to do to get out of this fairy tale, whether or not Umbridge knew he was still alive, anything. On top of all of that, he was dirty and scuffed up, his hair was tangled and dusty and a proper bloody mess, and these dwarfs did not own a functional bathroom fit for a regular sized person. Everything was a total bloody mangle and it's barely been a week! Pacing around the tiny cottage, he tried to find a reasonable thread to this web of confusion, when there was a crash outside. He snapped to attention and made for the door, hesitating for a moment. What if this was some sort of trap? Or...from what he knew of fairy tales, which was very little, granted, the main character was always this disgustingly good, kindhearted, humble fool, who helped everyone and everything around them. So following that logic...

Draco opened the door and stepped out, following the sound of cursing until he came upon a girl his age hunched over a broken carriage wheel. Her horse was kicking at the ground in annoyance and she looked hopeless herself. It took her a moment to notice Draco there and when she did, a bright smile lit up her features.

"Oh thank goodness you're here! My carriage broke down and I don't know how to repair it. I've never been particularly handy. Perhaps you can help me out? Please, I'm in such a hurry!"

Draco blinked. That whole spiel sounded so...rehearsed. Though by now he was pretty certain he was supposed to play this out, he couldn't help but feel that something was...off about this. Staring at the carriage's unhinged wheel, he was sure it would be an easy enough repair, but then suddenly something else struck him.

"I'll help you for something in return."

She furrowed her brows but nodded silently and Draco continued:

"You seem to be headed to the next kingdom over. Take me with you."

She seemed to falter for a moment, fiddling with the hem of her dress, before her bright smile returned tenfold:

"Deal!"

Draco grinned, relieved he sorted at least one of his problems, and bent to task.

Finishing up with the wheel, Draco straightened with a groan. He'd chatted with the girl the whole time, learned her name was Adelaide, and that she was headed to this other kingdom to visit her grandmother.

He was even more of a proper mussed mess now, but it wasn't a wasted effort thankfully.

"Oh my-your hair's quite rowdy now. Here-" Adelaide pulled a hairpin pulling her bangs back out and offered it to Draco. "To keep it out of your face." Draco accepted it and pursed his lips. If this was somehow enchanted, Adelaide wouldn't have kept it in her own hair, so he figured it should be fine. Gathering his hair back, Draco pushed the pin in. It was a relief to have it out of his eyes for a while.

"Hop on then." Adelaide gestured to the seat next to hers then and Draco went to climb in, when his stomach lurched and a sharp pain bloomed behind his eyelids. Disoriented by the sudden nausea, Draco attempted to step down, but his feet weren't steady. When he placed his weight on them, his knees buckled and Draco went down. The hell was wrong with him?

"Are you okay?" Adelaide's voice sounded faraway, as if underwater.

Draco shook his head and took a few deep breaths, trying to push through this. There was something definitely wrong. Rising on wobbly legs, he swallowed and went to step into the carriage again. The movement caused another knot of sickness to coil in his stomach. His vision fogged through the sharp pain and he swayed backwards, his feet slipping out from under him. His head collided with the hard ground and he lost consciousness.

When Dolores was back in her chambers, Minerva was already waiting for her within her mirror, having woken on her own.

"I see you await me." Dolores hummed, in a soaring mood.

"I do. Before you ask, you are nay the fairest of them all." Minerva deadpanned, her steely eyes clear and piercing even through the surface of the mirror's glass.

Dolores froze.

"What?" She hissed, her jaw clenched.

Minerva threw up an arm, the flames rising higher with the motion, swooping behind her. She'd lost her patience:

"The boy is still among us. Your mad pursuit to be the greatest, above all else is bringing misery to you and you only! Let it go and seek happiness in better things."

Dolores was uncharacteristically silent. In all the years Minerva has known her, Dolores had never taken well to criticism.

"Minerva, you know deep inside you deserved this punishment I've dealt you. However, since I appear to have failed at ridding the world of Draco twice now, I have an offer to make you." She spoke, her voice deceptively calm. Carefully concealed rage broiled in the undertone of each word.

"An...offer?" Minerva faltered. This could end up quite dangerous if she was not careful.

"You will find a way for me to kill the boy...in exchange for your freedom." Dolores began to circle the mirror, her face carefully flat.

Minerva's breath hitched. Kill the boy, in exchange for...her freedom..Before she could process it, the queen continued to talk:

"I've imprisoned you within the mirror, I can release you from it. However, you must do me a kindness first. Find a way to kill the boy." She paused long enough to slate Minerva a cold grin. "Do we have ourselves a deal then?"

In the wake of Minerva's despair the fires around her fanned high and bright, merging around her and reflecting out of her tortured eyes. She'd been trapped within the mirror for so long, she yearned to breathe in fresh air, feel the sun on her skin again, at least one last time before death took her. At the cost of a young life though? Could she cross that line? There were days within the mirror where she would have given anything to be free. Even another's life. This boy, though, had done nothing wrong by her, by the world.

"Tick tock Minnie. I won't wait for your answer all day. Don't you want to enjoy the sun again?" Dolores tempted with a mockingly sweet voice.

Minerva did. She really did. But could she live with herself knowing she killed another for it? Wouldn't she become just as much a monster as Dolores herself if she agreed? The fire holding her captive coiled around her, reaching for her neck. Though it never once burned her, and occasionally even obeyed her, the fire's physical hold on her never ceased weighing her down. It had a chokehold on her, always, it sickened her. She remembered the time long gone when there was nothing shackling her. She was a queen loved by her people, enjoying life to the fullest. Until Dolores took it all away. Now, more than ever, Minerva understood the age old saying

One man's sunset is another's sunrise.

And she cast her eyes downwards in shame when she delivered her answer to Dolores:

"Deal."

Dolores' smile could have frozen hell itself.

"Excellent." She praised and poised herself before the mirror. Outstretching both her palms and pressing them to the surface, Dolores began to speak:

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, release the one you hold, let them see the world all."

Minerva felt the moment the flames sizzled away, to be replaced by an ice cold chill. The surface of the mirror rippled, as if it were ice melting back into water. Dolores reached through, breaking the surface of the water's ripples and grasped Minerva's wrist. Feeling another's touch after so long jolted Minerva as she was pulled forth, out, finally out. Before she could step free of her prison however, something cold and solid clasped around her neck. A rattle behind her confirmed her suspicions, before her feet hit the carpeted floor of Dolores's chambers.

Minerva took her first breath and swallowed the heavy burden of guilt.

It took Draco two days to recover from the sudden onslaught of illness that had swept him out of fucking nowhere. Adelaide was long gone by the time the dwarfs woke him to have him eat something and he'd lost his only chance to go to Potter. Dammit it all! Bitter as can be, Draco felt like he was going off the deep end. He yearned for his magic back, for this all to be over, but nothing was happening, he felt as if he were stuck in a goddamn rut and unable to get out. He hated being confined and stuck in one bad place with no way to get out. Lord knows he spent enough of his younger years exactly like that.

At least the dwarfs were hospitable. He took the most liking to Dopey, mainly because he didn't really talk. He'd just sit with Draco and keep him silent company, which was much appreciated. Though sometimes, the silence was suffocating. Especially in the first few hours after they'd leave for the mines. From the hustle and bustle of eight people in one home, it would be down to the silence and stillness of one. It was odd until one grew used to it.

Such was this day too. It felt lonely, and Draco would often catch his thoughts drifting back to Potter for lack of anything else to do. He didn't really mind being partnered with Potter, but he had to act the part, because that's what it was always like between them. He wished he hadn't done so now, because if he hadn't picked the fight in the first place, perhaps they wouldn't have ended up down here. Draco wasn't dumb, he saw well and clear through training how capable Potter was, there was no logical reason not to want the guy as a partner. He found he'd gotten over his childhood woes and wants long ago, able to look at things much clearer now. It was a shame Potter didn't share the sentiment, though he couldn't have despised Draco completely, since he did go through the trauma of seducing aunt Bella just to save his life. Draco couldn't even imagine how foul Potter must have felt. He shivered at the thought himself. None of it would mean anything though, unless they could get out of here somehow. Unless he found a way to reach Potter. How though, was beyond him yet.

Wandering outside, Draco rubbed a hand down his face. Everything was so bloody still. He considered heading into the small apple orchard the dwarfs kept behind their cottage, it was maybe half a dozen trees big, to kill time since he felt so listless. He truly didn't expect the dwarfs would have a love for apples thrice as big as his own. They put apples into absolutely everything they ate, which Draco couldn't believe was truly healthy. Heading around the house and towards the small fenced in orchard, he contemplated just how long it would take to reach this other kingdom on foot. If it was wise to even start that venture. Who's to say Potter isn't searching for him right now? He certainly has the means and men to scour the lands much quicker and more efficient than Draco, being a prince and all. Then again, even if he was, would they come upon Draco and the seven dwarfs? From his time here he learned that most of the roads to the palace lead through the forest the dwarfs lived in, but that didn't necessarily mean they would lead by their cottage. All these 'what-ifs' and 'but-whats' were driving him round the bend with worry.

Disappearing into the orchard, Draco found another thing to be concerned over. An old, hunched woman was picking ripe apples from the lowest branches and the ground, shoving them all into a basket. She was clad in tattered clothes, looked like a beggar perhaps. Draco wondered what to do. If she was a beggar woman, she probably didn't have all that much to eat, but at the same time, the least Draco could do for the dwarfs after they'd saved his life twice was stop them getting robbed.

"Hey! Put that basket down, what are you doing here? This orchard does not belong to you." He called, and the woman froze and spun around, her wrinkled face white with shock.

"Oh I-I just-" She stammered as she approached Draco slowly, hobbling. "Please, let me take some, I haven't much food." She sounded desperate and Draco sighed.

"You may take five, return the rest." He allowed. It would be cruel to just send her away with nothing.

"Oh thank you, kind stranger!" She scattered all but six apples from her basket back through the orchard, then turned to Draco once more:

"Here, you take this one for yourself, it is most ripe and sweet of them all." She offered one to him, eyes shining.

Draco accepted it. To him, it looked like just any other apple, but he supposed if she knew her apples well enough to thieve, she knew to offer a good one. Mildly concerned for a moment that this has anything to do with Umbridge's misplaced desires to kill him, Draco hesitated. Surely she would not send an old, sick, hobbling beggar woman to end someone's life. That would just be colossally dumb. Unless the victim is an infant, an old woman is easily overpowered. Casting away the idea as foolish, Draco bit into the green apple. It really was as sweet as the woman claimed it would be, though there were strong hint of a sour aftertaste that lingered.

Everything seemed fine until he swallowed. In the blink of an eye he felt as if his limbs were laden with lead, his entire body felt heavy and drowsy. A dapple of exhaustion pressed over his eyelids, but it came out of nowhere, it couldn't of been natural.

"Oh..I feel...strange.." Draco murmured, in a surprised state of drowsiness, before he collapsed in a final breath.

The old woman viciously smiled down at the limp boy and cackled, before disappearing with a flourish of her tattered robes.

The length of chains weighed heavily around Minerva's neck as she stood bent over a cauldron, deep in thought. Staring down into it with heavily lidded eyes, the old witch pondered just what to do. She had a deal with Dolores, but perhaps there was still a way to spare Draco. Minerva wished for nothing more, for he was young, his life did not deserve to be extinguished over some petty jealousy. Dolores had left her to brew something that could finally kill Draco for good. Minerva studied all the ingredients laid before her, eyes searching while she tried to find a way around their deal. Surely there was something that she could do. The woman stood there for a long time, going through a mental checklist of potions and poisons alike, as well as the ingredients provided. Sopophorous beans, wiggentree bark, dittany, wormwood, valerian roots among many others.

Wait...

OH! THAT'S IT!

With a relieved smile, Minerva collected 13 Sopophorous beans and crushed them with a silver dagger, letting them release their juices. She poured some water and salt into a beaker and set it aside, focusing on measuring out the correct, precise amounts. Minerva filled the cauldron with water, then extracted the essence of wormwood and poured in 10 drops. Next she chopped the valerian roots and added them to the beaker with water to settle. Adjusting the heat, she was happy to notice the potion wa now resembling a smooth blackcurrant colored liquid. It was going well thus far. Minerva poured in the Sopophorous bean juice, and added seven drops of the mixture from the beaker. Minerva then picked up a ladle, and stirred it ten times clockwise, pleased to find the bubbling potion turning a light shade of lilac.

The Draught of Living Death was coming along nicely.

A few hours later, Dolores came down to the workroom to see what Minerva had done.

"Evening. Is it done yet? I won't wait all day." She spoke in a singsong voice, laden with thinly veiled impatience.

"Yes." Minerva nodded and ladled some into a vial, presenting it to Dolores. "How do you plan on getting Draco to drink it?"

Dolores smiled and pulled a green apple from a basket of ingredients. Holding it by the stem, Dolores dipped it into the Draught of Living Death, until the potion seeped into the apple's skin. With a wicked grin, she pulled it free and left it to set.

"Worry you not of that, my dear. You've done what you were supposed to do." She turned to stride out, but Minerva's stern cough stopped her. Turning back, Dolores saw Minerva holding the heavy chain dragging from the shackle around her neck meaningfully. With a mirthless, indulgent chuckle, Dolores smiled a fake warm smile at the former queen:

"Why, I must assure it is authentic first, no?"

When the dwarfs found Draco passed out cold in their orchard, a panic ensued. They looked him over for anything unusual, like when they cut open that vest or removed the pin from his hair, but this time, there was nothing out of place. He just lay there, pale and limp, looking like he was merely sleeping.

"Something's been fishy with this lad since the start. I say." Grumpy scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's got the evil queen after him, he's been in danger since he came to us." Doc laid a hand over Draco's forehead, checking for a fever.

"He isn't breathing!" Bashful cried, horrified as he realized Draco's chest wasn't rising and falling with breath.

And so, a terrible scramble ensued. They were attempting what little they knew of medicine to try to bring him back, but nothing was working. Draco just lay, still and silent as ever could be.

Pulling their hats from their heads in a sign of respect, they sighed sadly, facing defeat. Draco had grown dear to their hearts in the days he'd spent with them, he'd upheld their home in their absence, everything was extraordinarily well-kept.

It was such an injustice that queen Umbridge finally snatched his life with her greedy claws.

Nothing else they could do, the dwarfs decided to at least give the boy a proper funeral, and started on casting a casket.

Minerva sat anxiously by her prison mirror awaiting Dolores's return. Oh how she hoped she wasn't wrong with her plan. Loud, hopping footsteps bouncing through the heavy doors brought her to attention. Dolores looked sickeningly happy and gleeful. Popping into the room, she cackled and drew Minerva up in a whirl, spinning them around before poor Minerva could even stutter a complaint.

"No more, no more, now I'm the fairest of them all, no more, no more, none shall take what I yearn for." Dolores sang jovially. "Be sure, be sure, I shall never let my reign fall, be sure, be sure, it will last forevermore." She swirled around the room with Minerva gripping her to remain upright. As her mad song came to an end, so did the clumsy dance she'd pulled Minerva into. When Dolores finally released the old witch she had to catch her breath for a moment, while the queen's icy laughter pierced the air.

" Oh, it worked like a charm." Dolores breathed in a pleased breath once she'd collected herself.

Minerva felt her heart stutter:

"It...it did? Good, that's good, yes." She nodded to herself."Now then, I believe our business is not yet through."

Umbridge's smile fell like a pond sinks to the bottom of a lake.

"That is correct, however, I don't think I'm willing to fulfill my end just yet."

Minerva squared up in a flash, eyes blazing with betrayed fury:

"We had a deal, Dolores. Does honor mean nothing to you?!"

Dolores gave her a poorly disguised malicious smile and shrugged:

"Yes, yes, but Minnie, I'm sure you understand you are a liability to me."

Minerva scoffed and rolled her eyes:

"How?! I've been your prisoner for years. The people have forgotten me and my rule."

Dolores laughed, the sound hollow and dark:

"I know you are not as naive as to truly think that. I've been a servant under your crown, your very own handmaiden. I sorted your mail and affairs, I know what the people think of you. I know they've never forgotten, they never will."

Minerva curled her lip derisively, eyes flashing with disdain:

"That just proves how poor of a job you've done replacing me."

Dolores stilled at the dig. She seemed to be counting to ten in her head before her reactive rage had ebbed enough to respond:

"That is not the point now, my dear. You can not walk free. Just the mere appearance of you in public will stir revolt." She paused, letting the hopelessness of the situation sink into Minerva's heart. "Oh but the revolts I can handle, spilling plebeian blood has always been enjoyable to me after all, it's just...well, I hate you too much to let you go."

Minerva merely shook her head, realizing now what a fool she'd been trusting there was an ounce of humanity still left in Dolores rotten heart. A dark shroud veiled her features. She knew what fate awaited her. She'd be entrapped within that blasted mirror until the end of her days, never see the sun again.

"I hate that you will always be better loved than I, no matter how much better a ruler I am. I hate that I had to serve under you for so long, robbed of my rightful place at the throne. I hate you, Minerva of the McGonagalls, and now, I don't have to keep pretending otherwise."

"I pity the girl you've once been and loathe the woman you've now become, Dolores." Minerva scoffed, despair and defeat clear in her worn voice. Dolores fury flared:

"I DO NOT NEED YOUR PITY!" She roared, striking a hand out at Minerva, a slap echoing in the charged air. Minerva gasped and spluttered, bringing her palm up to cradle her hurting cheek, the pain stinging and sudden. Clearing her throat, Dolores strode behind her to face her mirror.

"You are of no use to me anymore. Now I am the fairest, most beautiful of all, my only rival removed for good. I do not need your sight anymore." Her voice was dead and cold as a corpse.

Minerva whirled around to find Dolores already looking her way. With a fresh wave of panic, Minerva realized what the flickering in Dolores's eyes meant.

Bringing an open palm up, Dolores's grinned wolfishly. Minerva's mirror began to rattle behind her. Her mind whorled with panic at the sight. That mirror contained the very essence of her, bound to it as she was. By the chain and by Dolores's own handiwork.

"And so, I, queen Dolores of The Umbridges, declare you, Minnie, a dead woman." And with those words, Dolores curled her fingers into a tight fist.

The mirror cracked in the middle, the splinter webbing out towards the edges.

A cold rigidness swept through Minerva as she intook her last wheezy gasp. A single tear escaped her tired eyes for her life now lost. A crack formed in the skin of her cheek, the skin pulling away.

And then the mirror shattered, as did Minerva of the McGonagalls, and all that was left of her.

Ash scattered through the still air.

Harry trudged through the forest of his neighboring kingdom, in a desperate search for Malfoy. Waking up as a prince of a kingdom felt like getting a sudden heart attack. He hadn't the slightest clue how to rule, what to do, or how to conduct himself. Malfoy would have been much better suited to this role, since he was brought up well versed in nobility and their ways. One thing that Harry did know was that they were still trapped in this crazy fairy tale land, and he had no idea what fairy tale he was in. Almost every Muggle fairy tale had a dashing prince who rescued the beautiful princess. Though Harry preferred not to think of himself and Malfoy like that, because that's certainly not the way it was. Malfoy was more than capable of taking care of himself, he was no helpless damsel in distress.

Still, they did need to get out of here somehow. One good thing about being royalty, Harry learned, was the reach and influence he had. He was able to send out scouts for a man that looks like Malfoy across this entire kingdom, and scour it in days. However, with each report turning up completely blank, he'd began to lose hope and feel real fear fill its place. What if Malfoy ended up somewhere entirely different? In a different story altogether? Harry couldn't reach him then. And how would Harry get out if Malfoy was nowhere to be found?

Going over it with his advisers, who he'd recognized to be Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini from his world, oh the sweet irony, they suggested he search the neighboring kingdom as well.

"Listen, your majesty darling, perhaps you are not looking far out enough. You are only searching your lands, when the fugitive could have very well escaped to the kingdom next to yours." Pansy had offered, and Harry had a bit of a twit separating this Pansy from the 'Give-him-to-Voldemort' one, though he managed in the end, after spending a bit more time with her.

"Precisely, you must reach far in order to get this boy you so desperately want to capture." Blaise smiled smugly. Though Harry had described Malfoy to everyone as a fugitive on the run from the law, Blaise had it in his head Harry was frantically looking for Malfoy for entirely different purposes.

"Right. Of course." Harry pointedly chose to ignore Blaise's obvious provocation. "I, myself, will be riding out to this kingdom to ask for help from the ruler of it. I feel as though this is a request that should be made in person." That was the fancy, bullshit version of the story. The reality of it was, Harry couldn't bear to sit idly by any longer. Much as he hated himself for it, since Malfoy nearly died because of Harry's unwillingness to take action, Harry really began to worry about him and couldn't just twiddle his thumbs whilst he let everyone else do the work for him. Malfoy had grown in an entirely different world, fairy tales at all, let alone Muggle ones, were a foreign concept to him. Whichever one this was, Harry was sure Malfoy would put his foot in it somehow, and therefore had to find the loathsome bastard as soon as possible.

Which has led to him hailing a carriage and stepping out into this thick stretch of woods laying out front of the palace of this kingdom. He refused an entourage and insisted he go alone, to present himself as more friendly. He had no clue who from his world was the ruler of this kingdom down here, and as such had to make absolutely sure he would come off as non-threatening as humanly possible.

Now he was stomping through the forest and hoping beyond hope he could find Malfoy somewhere in this kingdom. A noise stilled his step all of a sudden. It was a...gasp, accompanied by a sob and some grumbling. Could that possibly be...? As quietly as possible, Harry made his way towards the source of the noise, emerging into a clearing with a cottage on it. However, what caught his eye was a glass and gold casket glinting in the sunlight and the seven dwarfs huddled around it. He slowly stepped closer, trying to peer into the casket, to see who lay in there, though once he did, his stomach dropped.

It was...It was Malfoy, oh dear Merlin, it was Malfoy!

His horrified gasp alerted the dwarfs and they all turned to face him, most bearded and ashen faced. Harry felt as if his heart had stuttered to a halt. Malfoy couldn't be dead. No.

He blankly stared at the seven dwarfs, then at the glass casket, trying to puzzle this one out, when it hit him.

Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs!

And that meant Malfoy wasn't actually dead! However, it...also...meant that..Harry had to..kiss him..to wake him...

"Who are you?" A dwarf with a yellow cap asked, before a violent sneeze seized him.

Another dwarf batted at his friend:

"That's prince Harry you tosspot!" He urgently whisper-yelled.

A dwarf with a calm demeanor and a wise look in his eye stepped forth towards Harry.

"Remember how Draco asked about him? Maybe there's something he could do. Come then, Harry." The dwarf all but pulled Harry closer to the casket and lifted the glass lid.

Harry stared down dumbly at Malfoy. He looked...ethereal laying there.

"This is all we found next to his body." The dwarf handed Harry an apple with a single bite taken out of it.

Harry looked at it for a moment, suspiciously eyeing it for anything off-putting. The color was not of a normal green apple, it had a pinkish-lilac sort of tint to it. Harry's stomach dropped as he brought it closer to his nose to get a sniff. It smelled like smoke and cinnamon, which only confirmed his suspicions. This apple was induced with the Draught of Living Death. He remembered brewing it in his sixth year of school, doing the best job in the class, since he had Snape's book. He remembered the very faint, almost unnoticeable smell it had to it, and remembered thinking how odd it was that what was essentially a sleeping potion smelled of cinnamon.

He hastily chucked the apple as far away from them as he could, terrified. Then he stared back at Malfoy's unmoving features. The potion that could reverse the effects of the Draught of Living Death was the Wiggenweld potion. Harry cursed and shifted his weight, trying to think of a solution. He was sure it was at the tip of his fingertips, yet he couldn't quite work it out. Idly tapping on his bag of supplies while thinking, a faint clink of glass from within roused him. He had the Wiggenweld potion on him dammit! Pansy had insisted he take a couple of healing potions and such with him, in case he ran afoul anything. He thought it silly at first, but he thanked his lucky stars for her foresight now.

Pulling the vial of potion out, Harry swallowed thickly.

"This can help him." He nodded at the dwarfs, whom were all peering at him expectantly.

He really hoped Malfoy wouldn't feel taken advantage of for what Harry was about to do, because if it weren't for the sheer necessity, Harry would have never imposed his will upon someone else like that.

Uncorking the vial, Harry dipped two fingers into the potion and brought them to his lips, smearing Wiggenweld over them. He applied nearly the entire vial, figuring it's better to be safe than be sorry.

Swallowing another lump, Harry closed his eyes and braced himself above Malfoy, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry about this..." He murmured, tilted his head properly, and leaned down, pressing his lips to Malfoy's.

He didn't know how to feel. His heart was beating so fast he felt numb to emotion, and he mechanically moved his mouth to pass as much of the potion as possible unto Malfoy, so he'd wake up.

And just when Harry was recovering from shock and was about to burst into a thousand different emotions, he felt Malfoy respond. He pushed back against Harry's mouth, returning the kiss. It startled Harry so much he jerked upwards, hauling Malfoy up along with him, who seemed very confused as to what just happened, the two of them overbalancing and toppling over one end of the casket and to the ground.

Harry braced for impact, but it never came. They just kept falling, which could mean only one thing. This was finally ove-before he could finish the thought, Harry blacked out.

The celebrations of the birth of the prince were in full swing. Queen Narcissa and King Lucius beamed at their little boy giggling in his cradle while everyone cooed at how cute he was. All agreed he'll make a fine prince one day. The palace hall was packed with all manner of folk. From ordinary, to noble, to magical. The king and queen wished for this to be a celebration to remember.

Many gifts were bestowed upon the baby prince, the four fairies hanging behind to give their best last. As the crowd cleared the way round the cradle, Rowena, Helga, Salazar and Godric fluttered towards it, smiling gently down upon the pale prince. They stood tall, Rowena clad in royal blue robes for this occasion, her sister Helga toying with her two braids, her yellow dress draping behind her figure. Their brother Godric stroked his beard thoughtfully, his other hand cupped on the hilt of his sword, while Salazar stood proud and tall, the barest hint of a smile betraying his joy. Their familiars wound around them, curious eyes peering at the human baby. Salazar's snake tilted its head thoughtfully, her forked tongue popping in and out of her mouth, Godric's much feared lion sniffed at the prince for a moment, obediently sitting by his master's legs, Helga's badger was wound around the small child, cuddling him while Rowena's eagle sat on her shoulder, regal and wise as ever, observing all details of this scene before him.

"We have remained last to lay a gift before the prince, for our gifts are special, irreplaceable." Salazar dipped his head at the king and queen, who both smiled.

"Please, go ahead." Queen Narcissa allowed with an elegant sweep of her arm. King Lucius simply nodded, watching his son with unabashed pride and fondness.

The four fairies gathered round the cradle. Salazar bent over it and held a palm above the boy:

"I gift you the gift of wit and poise, dear prince. May you always be sharp and cunning, never easily fooled nor swayed."

A flutter of green sparked from his palm, swathing over the chuckling baby. Salazar straightened and nodded, satisfied.

Rowena cradled the boy's face in her hands and spoke:

"I gift you the gift of wisdom and creativity, prince. May you always be bright and clever, never easily bested."

A bright blue shone from between her palm and the baby's head, after which she stepped away, allowing her siblings space to give their presents.

Helga squealed under her breath and melted at the boy's big dove gray eyes. Gently picking up her familiar from the cradle she bestowed her gift:

"I gift you the gift of kindness and compassion. May you always be understanding and gentle, never easily tricked into violence."

Finally, it was Godric's turn. Before he could step up to give his gift of courage and pride however, the doors to the palace hall flew open on a violent gust of wind. All the guests gasped and turned to stare aghast at the figure clad in black standing in the doorway, her eyes cold on each face they fell upon.

The four fairies gasped in cold recognition as she strode into the grand hall, the air charged and dark behind her. They stood around the cradle, guarding it. Their familiars were at unrest too. Feathers ruffled, fur on end, low growling.

Andromeda Black.

"Well, well. What a glittering assemblage, king Lucius." She spoke, her voice smooth and low while she made her way through the parted crowd towards the thrones of the rulers. "Royalty, nobility, the gentry and...ah, how quaint, even the rabble." She chuckled maliciously, eyeing the four fairies with clear disdain.

King Lucius bit his lip as his nerves worked up, his unwavering gaze set on his child.

"I must say, I really felt quite distressed at not receiving an invitation." Andromeda continued, smiling a cynical smile.

"You're not welcome here." Lucius forced his voice out clear and loud, despite his anxious state of mind.

Andromeda feigned a hurt surprise expression for a moment:

"Oh. Oh dear, what an awkward situation." She turned her back on the rulers.

"You're not offended sister?" Narcissa asked quietly, voice thick with emotion. When her family had cast her sister away for her magical inclinations, Andromeda's heart had turned dark and cold, empty.

Narcissa's inquiry stopped Andromeda in her tracks. There was a moment of tense silence before the witch laughed long and low. She turned to face the queen, her eyes void of any affection to her long-lost sister.

"Why, no." She spoke, turning her head towards the cradle and the four fairies poised around it like guards. "And to show I bear no ill will, I too, shall bestow a gift on the child."

Lucius sprung to his feet, desperately shaking his head:

"No! We don't want your gift!"

Salazar bristled:

"Stay away from the prince, Meda."

The four fairies knew Andromeda well. They had taught her everything she knew of magic, they mentored her, raised her to be a powerful sorceress, took her in when she had nowhere else to go, after she was disowned. All was well until she'd met that fool of a failed magician Tom Riddle, as the utter sham of a man liked to call himself, who'd turned her away from them, turned her towards the dark arts. She'd abandoned them to feed the spite of her heart hurt from being cast away, and that was something Salazar could not forgive her.

"Yes, stay away." Rowena nodded, her eagle cawing from her shoulder in warning.

Andromeda chuckled and spun her scepter, sending her former teachers tumbling into a wall, before they could utter a spell. Their familiars ran to their masters' sides, fluttering about in worry, forgetting about Andromeda's looming presence in their haste to mend their masters' wounds.

Andromeda trailed a finger along the cradle's edge:

"Listen well, all of you. The prince shall indeed grow in luxury and grace, respected by all who meet him."

Narcissa breathed a soft breath of relief. Perhaps her sister had found it in her heart to forgive:

"That's a lovely gift."

Lucius feared for what came next. He swallowed thickly and muttered a plea:

"Don't do this."

Andromeda lazily skimmed everything round the room, a finger pressed to her lips in thought. Her eyes glinted when she spotted a spinning wheel. It would serve her purpose nicely. Throwing her arms wide, bluish flames sprung from the tips of her fingers, enveloping the cradle like a cage.

"But, before the sun sets on his 16th birthday, he will prick his finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel, and fall into a sleep like death. A sleep from which he will never awaken!"

Lucius flared up, his heart in his throat. He wouldn't let his son be harmed:

"Andromeda, please don't do this, I'm begging you!"

Andromeda tilted her head and grinned wolfishly:

"I like you begging. Do it again." She glanced downwards pointedly.

Lucius's pulse hammered in his ears. For his son, he'd do whatever it takes. So he knelt before her. Out of the corner of his eye, the king could see his advisers sighing with disappointment. No matter.

"I beg you." He pleaded, eyes wide and panicked on Andromeda.

She seemed thoughtful for a moment, then cast her gaze upon the little boy.

"Alright..The prince can awaken from his death sleep, but only by.." She stopped, eyes vindictive upon Lucius. He had been courting her to be his beloved before she was disowned, he had kissed her, claimed it was true love, they were meant to be, he plied her with honeyed words and false promises, then moved on to her sister as soon as word got out she was cast away.

"True love's kiss!" The flames fanned higher before Andromeda spun on her heel and made to leave.

"This curse will last till the end of time! No power on Earth can change it!" She called her final goodbye before striding out in an angry flourish, the heavy doors slamming shut behind her, bathing the hall in dim darkness.

And so, the prince was cursed. In a frantic effort to protect their son, the king and queen ordered every spinning wheel in the kingdom be burned and buried in the castle's deepest dungeons. With great sorrow in their hearts they sent their son away from the palace, entrusting the four fairies with taking care of him in a cabin nestled into the woods, so he'd be kept as far away from a spindle as possible. They were to raise him for 16 years and a day, then return him to the palace.

So it were...yet in the end it mattered not what they did, for it might take a year, it might take a day, but what is meant to be, will always find its way...

Harry awoke to someone gently shaking his shoulders. He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes, praying he'd be back in the Wizarding World instead of another fairy tale. However, as he looked upon who sat above him, shaking him from sleep, his heart stuttered. Everything around him seemed to screech to a complete fucking halt. Perhaps he was dreaming? But no, the touch on his shoulders was far too real.

"M-Mom?" Harry stuttered in a soft breath, too shaken to speak any louder. Lily gently stroked her son's hair, smiling down at him.

"Good morning dear. It's time to wake up." She chuckled. "As sweet as you look when you sleep, I can not let you sleep the entire day away." Lily pulled him up to sit while Harry tried to remember how to breathe. His mother was right here, holding him, she was alive, she was right in front of him-

The dam burst.

Harry pulled his mother in for a hug, starting to sob his heart out. He was definitely still in the fairy tale land, but that did not matter at all. His parents were here, they were alive, they were with him, they loved him-

"Hey, shh, shh, my boy, what's wrong?" Lily murmured into his hair, rubbing his back in a soothing manner. "Is it another night terror? I am sorry you suffer them often, I wish I could help you."

Harry held her tighter and cried for a long time, his mom never once pushing him away.

It took a while for him to calm and process the fact he wasn't an orphan in this fairy tale, took him a while to settle down.

His dad James was the exact same troublemaker he was always described to be, and his mother as graceful and kind as the stories told of her. This life was the life he'd always imagined he'd have lived if his parents were alive back home.

Back home...

The bitter, sour reminder of the reality spoiled Harry's happy mood. None of this was real. None of this was his. He had a life to return to, his own world, he couldn't have this. Not now, not ever. His heart ached for the fact. Finally he had a family that he loved and that loved him. And it was all for nothing, because he had to leave them behind.

Or...did he?

Who's to say Harry had to go looking for escape? Who's to say he couldn't just sod it all and stay here? Live a normal, ordinary life with loving parents. No Dark Lords, no fame, no crazy fans, just a simple life. That was exactly what he'd always wanted from his life after all. He was not obligated to Malfoy, or anyone at all. It was his damn existence to do with as he pleased. It would be so easy too, to give it all up and stay with Lily and James. He had no magic here, true, but he'd lived without magic, without knowing it even existed once, so he could manage again, he could adapt. It was a small price to pay to have his parents back.

Why would he care what happens to Malfoy here? All the guy has ever done was hurt him, he deserved to have a bit of a taste of his own medicine. He knew he'd miss Ron and Hermione and all the Weasleys terribly, but if the other two stories he'd been through were any indication of what this land was like, Ron and Hermione existed in this land too, as did all the others, and even if they did not, there would be others. He could make new friends, he could be so happy here. Harry grimaced at the notion though. The hell was he thinking? There was so much to return to. Living without magic? He could never make that kind of sacrifice. Seeing his parents was messing with his mind. Of course he cared what happened to Malfoy, much as he wished he didn't. He couldn't live with himself if he just let Malfoy with the tide, for as capable and powerful as Malfoy was with magic, he was equally as helpless and misinformed with everything else that wasn't magic.

He couldn't stay. As fervently as Harry wished to live a life of bliss with his parents, he couldn't abandon everything and everyone else for it.

Decision made, Harry gave his mom and dad a final, searing tight hug, told them he loved them and heard it from them one last time, and left the house 'to run some errands', that is, find Malfoy and get out.

He wasn't a prince in this one, thank Merlin, he seemed to be just an ordinary peasant. As he strode down the cobbled street of the little medieval town he apparently lived in, three horsemen rode in from the direction of the palace rising on a nearby hill. His heart stuttered as he recognized the riders. Sirius, Remus and Peter. They were clad in guard armor and proud as ever. Harry bit his lip and swallowed an onslaught of emotion, tuning in to what they were announcing.

It was Sirius whom spoke first, his voice ringing clear through the street:

"Prince Draco has been cursed!"

There was a shuddering gasp echoing through the crowd. Harry blinked. Of course Malfoy got himself cursed.

Remus cleared his throat and stroked his steed's mane while he spoke:

"He has fallen into a sleep like death! Only true love's kiss can wake him!"

Peter didn't waste a breath in following, his nasally voice like nails on a chalkboard:

"The king and queen have sent their son to a quaint settlement in the forest by the creek, where he remains in the cursed slumber. Whoever wakes him will be rewarded duly."

And with that, they yanked the reigns and turned their horses around, galloping back towards the palace.

With a deep sigh, Harry hung his head and scowled. He was sick of fairy tales and forests and all this bullshit.

Sleeping Beauty, his ass.

With little else to do, he took the beaten, dirt path leading into the woods.

Draco dreamed.

He dreamed of open sunny fields, and a warm hand holding his. He dreamed of a joy he never fathomed could even exist, let alone be experienced. He dreamed of a kiss, waking him from slumber. He dreamed of soft lips pressed to his, fluttering in their hesitance, and dreamed of returning the kiss. He dreamed of a love he had not yet attained, whatever that meant. He dreamed of dark tunnels and a long fall. He dreamed of a daring rescue. He dreamed of a warm embrace.

Draco dreamed.

As Harry followed the sound of rushing water, glad he was on the right track, a heavy stone lodged in his stomach. Something felt off. Tuning into his surroundings, Harry smelled the air. Smoke and ash. He cast his eyes all around him. The land was scorched and dry, the plants stiff and wilted.

What the fuck?

Not a few dozen feet ago, the forest was lush and in full bloom, and the closer he got to the creek...

He kept walking, now wary.

Suddenly, the forest gave way to a rising tangle of thick, black branches and limbs, full with sharp thorns and jagged edges. Harry stood stupefied before this wall. Though he knew what fairy tale they were in, he couldn't recall every detail. He'd read all these such a long time ago, bored to death in his little cupboard, but he hadn't ever really committed to the minutiae. This wall of thorns wasn't ringing any bells whatsoever. He couldn't see beyond it, which only worried him further. Seeing no other way but through, he stepped into the fray, twisting and turning so as to not be impaled. Slowly placing one foot in front of the other, Harry ventured deeper and deeper through, ducking and dodging the long thorns that seemed to come at him from every angle.

Cursing when he'd get snicked here and there, Harry prayed that beyond this thorny bloody bush would be what he's looking for. Even thinking about it Harry felt odd. He'd kissed Malfoy...and it wasn't all that bad. Certainly not as tragic as he'd worked it up to be in his head. He wasn't sure whether Malfoy himself was aware of what happened or what Harry did, but if he asked, Harry would shrug and tell him the truth. They'll have plenty of time to talk once they got out of here. How a land like this even existed, Harry was unsure but he really hadn't had much time to consider the theory of it, because he could see an opening ahead, he was almost through! There were a few snicks and scratches over him from pushing through the thorns, but Harry paid it no mind. He struggled out of the last few limbs before stumbling into the opening by the creek Peter had spoken of.

And there was a tiny chamber building where Malfoy must be. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and made for it, but a slick voice stopped him:

"Congratulations, you're the first that's made it through the wall."

He turned and furrowed his brow. Was that..Andromeda Black?

"Though I'm afraid you won't be getting much farther." She idly twirled a strand of black hair around her finger.

Harry sighed and straightened up:

"Look, I haven't the time, just let me get him and I'll be out of your hair." He was just tired at this point. This was the 3rd fucking fairy tale they'd had to traverse. When does it bloody end?

Andromeda chuckled a hollow chuckle:

"No. My sister deserves to feel the same pain I've endured when she said nothing of our parents' decision to disown me."

Harry rubbed his neck, glancing back at the chamber ruefully before turning back:

"Miss Narcissa?" He indulged her.

Andromeda began to slowly half-circle him, eyes piercing.

"The very one." The witch confirmed.

Harry swallowed. He sensed a fight rising like the tide, and he was defenseless. No magic, no weapons, nothing. Fuck.

"You want to wake the boy? You'll have to go through me first, and honestly, you've little chance." Andromeda mocked and threw her head back, wrapping her arms around herself.

Harry barely had time to react before she began growing at a rapid pace, her skin molding into scales, her arms bending into wings, eyes blazing. A dragon.

A fucking dragon.

Though Harry has faced a dragon before, it mostly consisted of running away from it, as opposed to actually battling it.

He was utterly screwed.

The dragon roared a bone shaking cry and dove straight for Harry, it's maws wide open. Harry ducked out of the way in the nick of time, unfortunately landing straight into the thorn wall. As he crashed through he felt them stab through his clothes and skin, one burrowing deep into the flesh of his right thigh. Biting his fist to keep from crying out, Harry blinked away the fuzzy pain and stilled himself. Andromeda couldn't come stomping through here, it was too dense, so he was safe at least for a little while. Thinking quickly about his injured leg, Harry tore at the bottom half of this shirt, and yanked the thorn out, gnashing his teeth. Blood gushed from the wound freely but he quickly wound his shirt around it, tying it off as tight as he could possibly get it. It was the best he could do given the situation. The bleeding seemed to ebb a bit, at the very least. Focusing, Harry could hear the dragon roaring in anger just by the edge of the wall, trying to claw through.

A weapon. He needed a weapon.

Ignoring the flashes of pain from his leg he kicked at the longest, thickest thorn he could see, tearing it right off its limb. Crawling towards it, Harry gripped it tight and made to stand, mindful of not getting any more scraped than he already was. A surge of adrenaline moved his feet a limping step forwards when there was a shuffle. The dragon had stepped away. Another loud roar, then Harry could hear a crackle.

Realizing what it meant a second too late, he made to back away, too frantic to actually feel the thorns pricking him. He smelt the sizzle of the air before the blast of flame lurched into the thorns, gnawing at them and pushing further in. Oh no, this wasn't good. Up ahead, Harry could see the fire pushing in, swallowing the dead branches and ground up. He couldn't run back out into the forest he came from, he'd be an easy target there, but there was only inferno ahead. The wounds and cuts all over his body stung and blurred his vision, while Harry desperately tried to think of a way out.

Looking down at the long thorn still gripped in his hand, he took a deep breath, and ran straight towards the fire. The heat in the air intensified the closer he got, but he wouldn't be swayed. Just as he came upon it, Harry leapt from the ground towards it, landing a foot on a thorn limb above, then pushing off to the next one, hopping over the rising fire and launching him out high through the thick black smoke swirling upwards. With a moment's notice he spotted Andromeda huffing into the wall, her head held high, neck outstretched. Her wings batted at the ground, lifting a cloud of dust. Harry swung his arm above his head, using his momentum to lunge straight at the dragon and drive the thorn clean through her heart.

Collapsing uselessly to the ground afterwards, Harry heard a final shriek of pain and a loud thud, before exhaustion took over him.

Coming to wasn't fun. He woke to a world of pain. Groaning loudly, Harry slowly sat up, wincing all the while. Something was flowing down his temple from his forehead, and he gingerly reached up to wipe at it. It was blood. He must of hit his head when he fell. Looking down on himself, his shirt was torn and a good part of his stomach was exposed, his jeans were scuffed and full of holes, and there was that faux bandage he'd wrapped around his impaled leg. There was a burn mark on his ankle, the flames must have snicked him when he jumped over, but other than that, he was mostly just full of scrapes and pricks from those thorns. Nothing was broken, thankfully. His glasses had been flung off his face at some point, and he groped around the ground for them, shoving them back onto his nose. One lens was cracked. Having assessed the damage, Harry coughed out some dust from his throat and looked around. The thorn wall was mostly burnt away and torn apart, thick smoke still rising from it the only indication there was ever a fire there. The chamber was unscathed, and off to his right, Harry noticed a puddle of red staining the earth. Turning his head, he pressed his lips in a thing line as he saw Andromeda, back to her normal human form, laying lifeless with a thick, black barb sticking out from her chest, the wound bleeding out.

Grimacing, he turned away, his stomach dropping. He couldn't believe he'd killed someone just now. It was his life or hers, but Harry still felt bitterly regretful. Casting those thoughts away, he pushed up and stood, cursing at the sore jolts of ache thrumming through him. He limped towards the chamber, his breathing labored, and pushed the flimsy door open, nearly collapsing inside. Catching himself on the door frame, he peered in. There was an elegant bed where he could make out Malfoy, and there were also four more people huddled around it. They all smarted when he entered and a woman rushed to him, pulling him in and into a chair. Harry all but sunk into it, wiping at his face. He needed to focus.

"I've come to wake up the..uh..prince." He jerked his chin at Malfoy, then took a closer look at the four people gathered around him. They seemed familiar-oh. Oh. OH!

These were...they were...the four founders of Hogwarts!

"We are so glad someone has finally made it through. Meda has been the sour fate of many before you, young man." Rowena fucking Ravenclaw spoke to him in a somewhat impressed tone.

Harry just nodded dumbly and tried to stutter out an answer but Salazar Slytherin smoothly continued:

"We are the four fairy siblings the king and queen have graced with the task of protecting their cursed son until someone comes to wake him. You don't look half as deserving, but alas, you are our only option yet."

Harry scowled in indignation at that and shook his head:

"Let me tell you something, pal. If the four of you ever happen to want to start a magic school, please don't divide students by blood or family. I'm looking at you Salazar, you'll mess it up the worst of the four. Maniacs will be bred because of your thick head."

They blinked at him dumbly, but Helga Hufflepuff plastered on a confused, nervous smile and ploughed on as if nothing was said:

"Right, right, of course, we'll keep that in mind. Now, I believe you've come here for a reason." She pointedly tilted her head towards the bed and Harry swallowed a lump.

Before he could stand, Godric Gryffindor laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder:

"I admire your bravery and strength young lad. Don't you listen to old Lazzie, he mostly shows he's impressed by insulting you."

Harry arched an eyebrow at that, now wasn't that familiar, but all was explained away when Salazar scoffed:

"Brother, how many times must I tell you not to call me that? We aren't kids anymore."

Godric laughed heartily:

"Ah, at least a couple hundred more Lazzie, at least a couple hundred more."

Harry bit down a smile at that and stood, noticing out of the corner of his eye Helga and Rowena rolling their eyes fondly at their brothers. They really did seem to present their houses well. He made his way to Malfoy's bedside, eyes fixated on him. Harry had noticed many a times through training how unfairly beautiful Malfoy was, and though he'd locked such musings away to a deep, dark corner of his mind, the sight of Malfoy through these fairy tale lands only made it worse and all that much harder not to think about. Shaking his head at himself, Harry braced himself above Malfoy and leaned down, kissing him like he did in the previous one.

Draco dreamed.

He dreamed of a blazing sun warming him. He dreamed of his heart thundering in his chest. He dreamed of a pair of lips pressing to his, coaxing him, guiding him, tempting him in ways he yearned for too much to ever resist. He dreamed of returning the kiss, pouring all he was into it, holding onto it. He dreamed of a pair of deep green eyes blazing down at him, unruly brown hair, a curious lightning shaped scar-

Draco awoke.

Lady Narcissa lay in her bed, riddled with ache. Her breathing labored and shallow, sweat bead at her brow. Her fever had risen yet again. Her husband Lucius sat by her bedside, tightly grasping her hand.

"Oh Cissa, my love.." He murmured every so often, as he made to replace the cool, damp cloth on her forehead. His fingers would linger upon her heated skin then.

A haze swirled through the ill woman's mind, her body weakened by sickness. Lady Narcissa blinked up at the ceiling, and with a slow sigh, she turned her head to face her husband.

"Luci, dearest, there's little time left for me." She whispered in a wheezy voice. She'd been sick for weeks, it had weakened her too much, the fever had risen much too high for her to handle for much longer.

"No, no, don't say that-" Lucius grasped her hand tighter, eyes wide and sorrowful.

Narcissa gave him a soft smile:

"It's alright, I've made my peace with it." A garbled cough interrupted her words. Lucius sprang from his chair, kneeling next to her head on the pillow. Tears gathered in his eyes. When she'd recovered, she continued speaking: "You must take care of Draco, you must find happiness beyond me. Promise me, darling."

"Cissa, no-" Lucius choked, resting his forehead to her clammy one, her hand gripping his own back with as much force as his held hers. Tears poured from his eyes in rivulets.

"Promise me, love, please promise me." Narcissa pleaded, voice low. She wished for nothing more than her husband and son to find happiness even after she was gone. Their breaths mingled for a long, silent moment, until Lucius spoke with a thick voice:

"I promise you."

Lady Malfoy breathed a deep breath, smiling anew.

"Thank you."

Lucius bit his lip and gazed into his beloved's eyes for the final time, for in the next moment, Narcissa Malfoy was gone forever.

Lucius sat by the bed for a long time, numbed my grief.

It had taken many months for Lucius to keep his promise to his passed wife, but eventually, he found love again, and remarried. He welcomed Rhiannon Marie and her two daughters, Daphne and Astoria into his home, his life. And everything seemed right again. His son was growing into a fine young man, and his wife and stepdaughters were as lovely as a summer's eve.

Blind as he was with his happiness, Lucius failed to see the three new ladies of his home were not as fair as they appeared.

They forced Lucius's boy Draco to be a servant to them, do everything for them. They loathed him because he was to inherit all of Lucius's assets, as the firstborn son. And so, he suffered greatly at their hand day after day, his father none the wiser.

The boy wished things were different each night, but each morning he'd wake up in the same old place by the fireplace, covered by soot and ash, forced at their beck and call like a dog.

And today, was no different.

Draco woke up coughing. Blinking slowly to get his bearings he realized he lay by the fireplace in a home that was most definitely not his own. Not this again...When would this blasted nightmare end? Surely this land wasn't infinite, it couldn't be, nothing was. Cursing under his breath, he attempted to wipe off the ash clinging to his skin and hair, the soot staining his clothes, though Draco would hardly call these clothes. Rags was a better term. Where in the bloody hell was he now? He sat up and looked around. The room he was in was cramped and dark. Light flitted in through a few tiny windows, but that was about it.

He didn't remember much from the last story. He remembered a celebration in the name of his birthday, remembered finding an old woman weaving on a spinning wheel, approaching her to offer her some cake and then he...pricked his finger on the spindle? And then he slept, for a long time, he slept.

And he dreamed.

Recalling the dreams, Draco was horrified of their contents, and shook the thoughts away fiercely. He had to focus on the matter at hand anyways. Ahem. While he was wondering why the hell he was sleeping on the floor, in ash, there was a clatter outside the door just before it burst open and...Daphne and Astoria sauntered through.

"You're finally awake, Cinder. Go fix us up some breakfast." Daphne gave him a withering look, waving her hand.

"Oh, and don't forget to scrub the bathrooms. I saw a spot on the tiles." Astoria rolled her eyes with a poorly concealed smirk, before both sisters traipsed out, slamming the doors behind them.

Draco sat there shellshocked. He didn't remember neither Tori nor Daph being this bratty, but then again, he had to remind himself that no one shared personalities here with their real life selves. Another thing that struck him as horribly odd was that they called him Cinder. His name wasn't Cinder. Was he their servant? What the bloody hell was going on here?

Not knowing what else to do, Draco decided to go out and do what they'd asked of him, see the layout of this place, look for another portal perhaps? Other than the first time, from what Draco could remember, Potter had had to...kiss him...to get out in the other ones. He preferred not to think of that, it made him feel all sorts of uncomfortable and conflicting feelings, when he really didn't have the time for it. He only hoped he wouldn't be poisoned, or cursed or somehow end up in need of a kiss in this one, rather that he could just find a portal, find Potter and get out. The stupid messy prick was too important to leave behind...to the Wizarding World that is, not to Draco. Obviously.

Making his way out into the hall, Draco found this house was larger than he'd initially assumed. Wandering the halls looking for the kitchen was a bit laborious, but he stumbled into it eventually. The next challenge he was faced with was cooking. Draco had very rarely had to cook, and when he did have to do it, he used magic. And he couldn't use magic here. He had no clue what any of the cooking utensils here were or what they were used for, or what to prepare. The two sisters didn't seem particularly patient, and Draco didn't feel like getting his ear chewed off by two spoiled rich kids.

Further irritated by the gaping reminder he once was a spoiled rich kid, he began banging through the cupboards, looking for ingredients to attempt to muck something up. Almost half an hour and one cut later, he had some sandwiches and eggs ready. Sighing, Draco grabbed the plates and made his way out, losing another few minutes looking for the salon they were in.

Once he entered, all hell broke loose.

Daphne and Astoria were lounging in love seats each, and their mother, . As soon as they noticed him, all three sprung to their feet and marched up to him. Draco swallowed and blinked, opening his mouth to apologize for all the time wasted, but he never got the chance to, because scowled and backhanded him across the face ruthlessly. Draco was caught off guard, and stumbled for a moment, dropping the two plates he was holding, having them shatter on the floor, the food going everywhere.

As he righted himself, he lifted a hand to his stinging cheek, biting his tongue to stop some very poisonous words from spilling, lest he get in even more trouble. He glared straight through 's eyes, not flinching. Daphne dug her fingers into his left forearm, her fingernails scraping his skin, drawing his attention away.

"Now look what you've done, Cinder." She spat the name venomously. "You leave us starving, then spill our food." She gestured downwards with her chin, sneering.

Fighting hard not to squirm and wince against where Daphne was gripping his arm, Draco sighed deeply.

"I apologize, I'll clean it up." He pushed through clenched teeth.

"Good boy. If only you weren't my husband's son, you'd be far worse off, Draco. Now go and mop this up." Rhiannon scoffed, lifting her nose in the air and crossing her arms across her chest. Daphne shoved him away, finally letting go of his arm and stomped off, followed by her younger sister.

Draco hastily retreated out of the salon and took a deep breath, processing what just happened. What the hell did Rhiannon mean about Draco being 'her husband's son'? Was his father married to Rhiannon Greengrass?!

The thought made him shiver down to his core. The last thing he ever wanted was to be in any way related to those three hags.

He was a prince...again. Bloody hell.

Harry sighed deeply when he woke up in a luxurious bed, with servants scuppering around him, and he could have retched then and there.

Getting his bearings around the palace, Harry gathered that Neville, Fred and George were his personal entourage advisor type people, and that Fred and George were much more serious and sullen than their real life doubles. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that, but it wasn't hard to ignore in favor of other issues. Namely, what fairy tale this was, where Draco was and how to get out. He was glad to find his wounds from his dragon face off had healed when they'd teleported to here, but all the scars remained. The burn scar on his ankle, the wound on his thigh, the cuts on his head and everything else. Harry didn't really mind, as long as he wasn't in constant pain and bleeding. After all, he was no stranger to scars. All he had to contend with was a limp from the wound on his leg.

What's furthermore, Nev, Fred and George had quite frantically informed him he was of age, and had to get married soon, because it was such a big deal for one reason or another blah blah blah, Harry wasn't exactly paying much attention. He'd just sort of nodded along, heard there was a ball going to be organized to find him a wife, and that all would be invited and welcome, and pretty much tuned out all the rest.

That ball was good, it was a great tool to find Draco quicker. Though Harry was an absolute disgrace on the dance floor, and would be an embarrassment to the entire kingdom, it would be worth it. He hoped.

And so, in a few days the ball was set-up and invitations were mailed out.

Draco admired himself for not going absolutely barking mad with these three the past few days. He'd asked after his father many times, but Rhiannon would just roll her eyes and scoff, letting Draco know Lucius was off on a business trip. Apparently, he immersed himself deeply in his work after his wife, Draco's mom, had passed from illness, and had traveled a lot more. When he'd remarried, his business had grown so much he was pretty much always away. The worst part of all was realizing Rhiannon Greengrass, well, Malfoy he supposed, was his stepmother.

Hell no.

They were spoiled and stuck up and far too much reminiscent of Draco's younger years. He had to run around, bending to their every whim and want, and if that wasn't humiliating, nothing ever was. They yelled, slapped, scratched and threw all sorts of fucking hissy fits when they didn't get their way, Draco felt embarrassed for them. At night they'd shove him into that tiny room with a fireplace and no bed, like he was some sort of dog. If...when him and Potter get out of here, Draco wasn't sure he could ever look at the Greengrasses the same again.

Then, the invitation came.

An invitation to a ball.

When it arrived in the mail, Draco didn't pay it much attention, as fancy mail like this showed up all the time. He brought it to Daphne and she scoffed at him when she took it. As he made to leave so as to not slap her silly, she read outloud:

"Prince Harry is organizing a ball! Tori! Mom! You must see this!" She was up from her seat and whirling past him before he could blink.

Draco stood there dumbly for a few moments, feeling flushed for no goddamn reason. He bit his lip and forced himself to focus.

Prince Harry...

Determinedly ignoring the stupidly alluring ring it had to it, he focused on the fact that Potter was a prince..again. Lovely. He needed to get into that ball somehow, if he had any hopes of finding Potter. Who was a bloody prince. Sighing deeply he tried to think of something that would convince those hags to let him come with them to the ball.

Harry had tried on about a dozen different suits, and though they all looked the same to him, Neville always shook his head and tutted.

"You must look positively dashing. I will ensure that." Nev muttered to himself as Harry made it into yet another suit.

A mint green waistcoat under the white suit jacket and pants. Neville looked extremely pleased with this one, and if he was being honest, Harry liked it too.

With that decided, all that was left to do was to wait for the ball to start this evening.

Asking to come with went about as well as Draco could have hoped. They laughed at him, and said no. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Draco stalked out into the small back garden and collapsed heavily onto a stone bench. This was stupid, unfair and stupid again. Kicking out at the ground, Draco felt tears pricking at his eyes. He angrily wiped at them. He didn't have time for this. There were a million other things he had to worry about.

He wished Potter was there, so they just get out of here. This place shouldn't even fucking exist or be this large and so fucking endless. A fresh wave of angry tears bit at him and Draco groaned loudly, exhausted.

A shimmering crinkling behind him snapped him out of it, and he turned, jaw dropping to the floor as he saw who stood there.

. In a blue sparkling dress.

" ?" Draco murmured, in complete disbelief. When did she get here?

She laughed a melodic laugh.

"Oh Draco dear, no need for such formalities. Just call me Molly. I am your fairy godmother after all."

His fairy godmo-?

"Uh, alright, hello...Molly." Draco felt really bad using her first time, especially after all the grief that her family had suffered at the hands of people Draco once believed in.

"Now now dear, look at you in those dusty old clothes. You absolutely can not go to the ball wearing that." Molly shook her head, her fiery red hair falling all around her.

Draco blinked and looked down over himself. He supposed she had a point. His clothes were rumpled and wrinkled and dirty. Though at the same time, it was a moot point:

"I'm not going to the ball..." He murmured bitterly.

"Nonsense, of course you are." Molly shook her head with a smile, pulling her wand out of her sleeve and casting her eyes around. "Hm, I'd say the first thing you need is..ah yes, a pumpkin."

Draco furrowed his brows and looked around. A pumpkin?

Molly didn't seem bothered by his confusion, and hobbled over to the nearest ripe pumpkin she found in the tiny vegetable garden off to the side. Draco hadn't even noticed it in his despair.

"Now then." Molly cleared her throat, and tapped her wand to the pumpkin. "Salagadoola mechicka boola Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo! Put them together and what have you got? Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!" The woman chuckled and murmured the words in a singsong voice.

And the pumpkin began to grow and transfigure into a beautiful white carriage.

Well. Draco had no clue was that powerful of a witch. A newfound respect bloomed towards her.

"Now that's done. Let's see what's next." She looked around and grinned when she found a couple of mice scurrying around the vegetables. Molly pointed her wand at them and chanted again: "Salagadoola mechicka boola Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo! It'll do magic, believe it or not! Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!"

The mice grew and morphed into three white horses. Transfiguring living things was a feat not even the most powerful wizards and witches could achieve, and here was Molly Weasley, doing it as if it was nothing. Was she that talented back home too? Draco just silently gaped at all these incredible feats of magic unfolding before him and marveled at it all.

"And finally, to fix you up Dray." She approached with the same warmth to her as ever. No one had ever really called Draco that, except for Pansy when she wanted to annoy him. Somehow though, it wasn't annoying in the least now.

She passed her wand with a flourish over his clothing, and it changed on him, clinging to his form better, straightening up and clean of dust and debris. She sent a spark mussing up his hair, which Draco wasn't sure how he felt about, but he figured it was fine since the clothing she gifted him was lovely.

"At midnight my spell will wear off, you must be back before then. Until then however, you have all the time you want to seize your prince's heart." She laughed again and Draco bristled, flustered:

"Just what is that supposed to mean?"

Molly looked at him with a profound serene wisdom in her expression and chuckled:

"When you've lived as long as I have, seen all I've seen, it becomes easy to spot certain things. Like love for example. Now go! Stop wasting time! Harry won't wait forever!" She ushered him into the carriage while his mind struggled to compute through everything she just said.

With a flick of her wand, the door closed after him and the horses took off towards the palace.

Harry squeezed through the throng of nobility and alike, eyes searching the crowd for blonde hair. He hoped with all his heart Draco had made it to the ball. He didn't know what position Draco ended up in or where. As he learned in Snow White, he could be spat out literally anywhere. Like say, a completely different bloody kingdom. Mindful of that, Harry frantically searched through the crowd, trying to spot Draco anywhere among them.

As soon as all the guests piled in, Harry had begun searching, and had so far been unsuccessful which only served to heighten his blood pressure.

And then, the grand hall doors opened, and in came Draco Malfoy.

Harry stopped in his tracks. Malfoy wasn't in his old clothes anymore, instead he..he looked..he looked handsome as hell, Harry couldn't lie. Every bit the noble and proud ponce he was, yet somehow, Harry wouldn't have had him any other way. It was a thing unique to Draco himself in Harry's mind. There were few others who could pull it off and wear it like Draco did, which Harry found so, so...

Before he got to finish that thought, Draco noticed him too and gaped at him openly. His pale cheeks dusted with a faint pink and he looked swooned for about five seconds before recovering and running up to Harry.

"Jesus Christ Potter-" He murmured before pulling Harry in for an unexpected hug. Harry smarted but accepted, relieved to have finally found Draco in this mess.

After a long moment they pulled back.

"What happened to you?" Harry asked, concerned at the bags under Draco's eyes. Draco whined dramatically:

"You don't want to know. Why are you limping?" Draco gestured down to Harry's legs then, and Harry chuckled morosely:

"Uhh, in the last one, I sort of had to..fight a dragon, to get to you."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. His face blanched and Harry tried to tug him along, he didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

"A dra-A dragon?!" Draco whisper-yelled. "Potter you could've gotten killed!"

Harry stopped and sighed deeply.

"At least you would've gotten a different partner then." He tried to make it sound lighthearted though it came out just a tad too bitter. Draco had picked that fight even before they left the building arguing about it, back in the offices. He'd claimed he'd rather swallow Bubotuber puss than work with Harry, and that Harry would just take every chance he got to get rid of him. That's what made Harry so angry. Hearing what Draco really thought of him, even after all those years. For some reason it hurt even then, and he'd gotten mad for it, so they got into a spat over it and then all this shite befell them.

Draco stopped and looked away. Harry was just about to open his mouth to apologize when Draco crossed his arms over his chest and spoke:

"I don't really mind y'know. I just picked a fight because that's what...that's what we do. What we've always done."

The brazen honesty surprised Harry, but he appreciated it. Managing a smile, he nodded:

"Yeah, I get it. I'm sorry about it too. Now let's just find a way out of here."

Draco nodded and they extricated themselves out of the crowd so they could speak freely with no one overhearing.

"I have to get back before midnight, the spell wears off then." The blonde informed Harry, looking warily at the clock ticking out just about 10.

The spell? Harry didn't understand, but he didn't push it, just rolled with it, trusting that Draco knew what he was talking about.

"Right. I've explored this palace and haven't found anything like that first portal. Did you find anything?" Harry asked, eyes still searching every wall for anything useful. Draco shook his head.

"Do you know which fairy tale we're in? Maybe we need to play it out to get out, like the last couple?" He suggested and Harry considered the notion. It certainly made sense.

"Okay, since you've always been the princess in these stories-"

"Oi!" Draco protested and Harry just chuckled and continued:

"And in most Muggle fairy tales the princess needs saving, a flawed concept I know, tell me about where you ended up. I think I could figure out which story we're in based on that."

Draco felt a faint flutter at the ridiculous notion of Potter saving him, and firmly ignored it. He told Potter all about the entitled brats that forced him to be a servant, and then about the odd encounter with , and how he got here. When he was done, Potter had amusement and mirth dancing in his eyes.

"We're in Cinderella. I can't believe Molly is your fairy godmother." Potter chuckled and Draco scoffed:

"Yeah, I couldn't either. After everything I've-" He hastily bit his tongue. Potter sobered up and looked at Draco with a look Draco couldn't decipher. That gaze pinned Draco to the spot though, and he couldn't find anything to say until Potter broke the silence:

"You're not that bad Malfoy. Besides, it wasn't your fault really."

Draco blinked and swallowed convulsively a couple of times, unable to bring himself to say anything. His tongue felt tied. Thankfully, Potter changed the subject back to the matter at hand.

"If we're in Cinderella, then we'll most likely need to play it out, like you said." He started explaining the storyline of the fairy tale to Draco. The blonde found most of it ridiculous, but there wasn't anything else they could really do, so it was a go then.

Just as they'd concluded their plan, the lights in the hall dimmed, and slow music started to play. It was time to dance.

Harry bit his lip and turned to face Draco, unsure of what would be the appropriate thing to do now.

Draco seemed equally as confounded, while everyone else paired off to dance. Harry figured they'd just kind of mingle around until it was over, until he noticed Astoria Greengrass stalking towards him with a woozy look in her eyes.

Oh hell no.

He quickly approached Draco and pulled him into position:

"I'm sorry but I am not dancing with her." Harry urgently muttered to Draco who looked over his shoulder and swallowed when he saw Astoria still approaching. Not wasting a moment, he whisked Potter away into a waltz, enjoying Astoria's entitled rage just a tad.

Then he turned to look at Potter and...everything else faded away.

Potter followed Draco's lead, trusted his each step and looked so...soft in the moment.

And so they danced, and it was everything neither knew they needed until then.

At five to midnight, Draco broke away from Potter, only then realizing they'd spent just about two full hours dancing and neither noticed. Pushing that realization away, he made for the exit, putting their plan into action. When he was outside the doors, the cool air helped calm his heartbeat. He stood for a moment, idly wondering if Molly might have had a point...

Snapping himself out of it, Draco lifted a leg and pulled off one shoe, hopping on one foot like a fool for a moment. Dropping the gold lined shoe on the staircase leading up to the palace doors, he scampered into the carriage and made away, just before the spell wore off and it all turned back into pumpkins and mice.

After Draco had left, Harry went out to collect the gold lined shoe he'd left behind, and the very next morning, declared that the one this shoe fits Harry will marry. He made this out to be an urgent matter and went with his advisers around the homes and houses, getting the inhabitants to try on the shoe. It was a waste of time, Harry was well aware, but Draco didn't know the exact address to tell him, just the general area, so Harry went house by house.

Finally, after a few wasted hours, they came to the right door. Astoria opened the door and nearly fainted when she saw the prince and his entourage standing on her doorstep. They explained why they were there and showed them the shoe. Naturally, it didn't fit either of the Greengrass sisters, so Harry asked if there was perhaps a man in the house whom the shoe would fit. They said no, but Harry knew better, and he'd be damned before those hags got the better of him. Since last night, Harry had realized he'd grown fonder of Draco than he ever was before. Perhaps even too fond, since there's no hope down that path.

Focusing back to the present, Harry cajoled and insisted. He plied them with flattery and lies until Daphne had caved and agreed to let their servant boy out to try the shoe on. She left the room and a few moments later returned, dragging Draco after her by his arm. He looked miserable, until he realized Harry was there it seemed. His eyes lit up with relief, though he acted as if he had no idea what was happening. Harry, likewise, played along:

"I'd like you to try this shoe on. Last night at the ball, I danced with someone wonderful, and when they left they lost this behind. Now I'm looking for them to marry."

Even though it were just formalities Potter was speaking, Draco felt fluttery. He schooled his features and nodded. He sat down on the nearest armchair and held a hand out for the shoe to put on.

But Potter knelt before him on one knee and reached down to place the shoe on himself.

Draco's skin erupted in shivers and he just...stared. Helplessly stared. His heartbeat picked up pace, he couldn't comprehend it.

When Potter put the shoe on he looked up at Draco, eyes greener than spring itself. He looked serene by Draco's feet. Not even realizing he'd spoken, a word slipped past his lips:

"Harry..."

And they fell through into the next journey.

Young lord Harry was merely an 11 year old boy when it happened, the curse. It wasn't a few days before that night that word had returned to the castle his parents had had a terrible accident with a group of robbers whose leader called himself Voldemort, and had passed away in the fray of battle. The upkeep of the palace was left to the staff, as well as raising the young prince. It had gone as well as it could, the boy grieving for his parents while the staff tried to console him.

Oh but then that horrible night came and ruined everything!

There was a raging storm outside, and all was silent, until, a heavy set of knocks rung upon the front doors. Being naive, and foolish, young Harry opened the door, and found an older woman with blonde curly hair and a cloak wound tight around her shoulders. She looked frail, though there was something sharp in her eyes.

"Hello young man. Might you offer poor old Rita shelter for the night? This storm is quite merciless."

Harry bit his lip and bristled for a bit. It would be downright cruel to turn her away wouldn't it? Then again, he had no idea who she was or if she was planning something nefarious..

"I-I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can not. I mustn't allow strangers in my home." Harry spoke up, feeling quite bad yet cautious. As it would turn out, his distrust was well-placed, as the woman's face contorted with rage and fury.

She straightened until she towered over the boy, her eyes blazing.

"You heartless, cruel boy! Denying help to those in need! Caring not for those who have so little, whilst you have so much! There is no love in your heart."

Rita pulled an old wooden wand from her thick cloak and snarled at Harry, who was cowering by the doorframe, the poor lad terrified. Drawing an arc over his head with her wand, the woman hissed an incantation:

"Bestia Mutatio!"

A terrible pain overcame the little boy, and he collapsed to the ground, crying out.

Last he heard of the witch before she disappeared into the stormy clouds was an ominous mutter:

"If you can learn to love another, and earn their love in return by the time the last petal falls, my spell will be broken."

Harry barely registered a red rose encased within a glass bell being set down next to him, for the pain convulsed his body and seized his mind to darkness.

When he woke up, he was no longer a boy, he was a beast.

Draco woke up to a loud clattering all around him. Sitting up in alarm, he found himself in a dimly lit squat room, with two beds and a couple of shelves and chairs scattered around. The ceiling was low and a few windows decorated the walls.

Scattered all over the floor were clothes, papers and bags. A bunch of silver trinkets and unique looking carvings. In the middle of the entire mess stood Lucius, his long hair bunched up into a messy bun. He seemed distraught as he shoved various things into his bag.

"Father?" Draco muttered, blinking dumbly at the surrounding space. Lucius whirled around and smiled the most genuine smile Draco had ever seen on him.

"Good morning, my boy! Slept well?"

Absolutely stunned, Draco could only meekly nod. Usually, his father was very cold and reserved, especially after the war.

"Great! Might have to fend for yourself for a few days though, I'm afraid. I've got to deliver these, they just got bought out." Lucius smiled wide and gestured to his bag full of carvings and figurines.

"Alright...dad." Draco nodded and tried very hard not to compare this Lucius to his real father, otherwise he'd be very tempted to give it all up and just stay here.

"Want me to bring you somethin'? I know you've really been into gardening and flowers lately. I can see if I can get you a special rose or something, yea?"

"Sure, sure, thanks." Draco murmured, before Lucius scooped him up into a hug. These fairy tales keep getting stranger and stranger.

Pulling away, his father bid him farewell and left.

Plopping down onto the bed, Draco sighed deeply. Just how long had they been stuck down here now? And how much longer before they got out? If ever, though he resented the mere idea. Taking a deep breath, he stood and left the house, stepping out into a lively little town. It looked like it was taken straight out of a storybook, picturesque and homey.

And just as he began strolling down the cobbled streets, Ronald Weasley strode up to him, grinning lewdly. Draco stopped, took a step back. He already didn't like whatever personality Weasley had adopted here, and wanted no part of it.

"Hello there Draco!" The ginger called out, before Draco could effectively side step him. He was tall and broad and so much unlike his real life self that Draco was off-put more than he'd ever admit.

"Hello...Weasley?" It was more of a question than an answer, because the blonde had no clue what to do. He knew even less how to act when Weasley tossed a meaty arm around his shoulders. Draco stiffened and tried to pull himself away, but the red bastard was too strong.

"Weasley, you are positively primeval." The blonde scoffed, honestly the audacity of this numbskull.

Further confirming Draco's suspicions about his intelligence, Weasley chuckled:

"Why, thank you Draco! Hey, whaddya say you and me take a walk to the tavern and take a look at my hunting trophies."

Finally shoving the brute away, Draco all but cynically snarled:

"Maybe some other time. Never preferably."

He absolutely resented the liberties Weasley had allowed himself. Who did he think he was, the Savior of the bloody Wizarding World?!

"Ah come now, don't play hard to get, you're just too cute." Weasley winked and Draco wanted to retch.

Scoffing in disbelief, he turned away, fully intending to run as far away from this oaf as possible, when his feet were lifted off the ground and his stomach hit a shoulder. Did Weasley just haul him over his fucking shoulder like a fucking potato sack?

"Come now, you'll love it I promise." Weasley chuckled while Draco kicked and scratched at him, twisting and writhing, trying to get away from this wretched buffoon. The blonde couldn't honestly imagine a fate worse than Ronald Weasley fancying him, and being so bloody brazen about it.

Just why do the Gods hate him so much?

Harry woke up sore, every muscle and bone aching. He lay aware in what he recognized as a soft bed for a few seconds, slowly breathing and blinking, until his head cleared a bit. He could see he definitely wasn't home, which sucked, but was honestly unsurprising. Why was his entire body in so much pain? Sitting up he tried to stretch but even that made him wince. Looking around the room, he found it dim and dark, only a bit of sunlight streaming in through the tears in the heavy black curtains. Lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the bit of light, Harry gaped as he saw how meatier his palm was, larger. His nails were sharpened into claws and by now the raven was definitely certain something was so horribly wrong.

Hobbling towards the mirror in the corner of the room, Harry peered into it, not believing his own eyes. His hair was so much longer now, it fell well past his shoulders. It was still fluffy and messy, just longer. He realized he didn't have his glasses on, but he could see perfectly clearly, it seemed as if he didn't even need them. His eyes appeared more piercing, his entire form much bulkier than he remembered himself being. He was taller, and had tiny fangs covered by his upper lip.

The clothes he'd been in when he'd ended up here were frayed and torn, stretched too tightly over his now much larger frame, revealing quite a bit of his skin to the cold air. Shivering from shock and the chill in the room, Harry turned about himself, trying to figure out what to do next, where to go, and most important of all, was Draco okay?

By now, Lucius was certain he'd taken a wrong turn at some point. His horse was getting restless, and nightfall was fast approaching, all the while he was lost in the woods, with not a clue how to get back to the main road.

Steeling his nerves he lead his horse through bravely, determined not to allow panic to seize him. No forest was endless, he simply has to stumble out eventually. He just hoped it wouldn't take too long, he wanted to return to his son as soon as possible.

That Ron boy had his heart set on Draco for a while, but Lucius didn't like him. Seemed like a real bad apple. He'd always swing by looking for his Draco, pushed the boundaries much too far. The guy had no shame, and Lucius wouldn't stand for it.

He wanted to get back as soon as possible, if for nothing else but to try and keep Draco away from him.

Just as he resolved to find a way out, he rode into a clearing, with a tall mansion looming on a small hill inlaid into the flat planes, surrounded by thick forest. Thanking his lucky stars he hoped the owners would be kind enough to set him and his trusty steed Orion up for the night. The forest was much easier to navigate by morn and daylight.

Dismounting Orion, he smoothed a hand down his side and made his way up to the front door of the old mansion. He knocked, and a slim, brown hair lad opened. He eyed Lucius suspiciously, but said nothing by way of greeting.

"Hello, please, would you be so kind to let us stay this night? I'm afraid we've gotten lost in these woods."

The young man studied Lucius carefully before opening the door wider.

"My master is in his chambers upstairs, he mustn't be disturbed. You may take the guest room on this floor. My name is Theodore, if you need me come looking for me down this hall." He pointed down a particular hallway. Lucius nodded, the warmth of the house already melting away the chill in his bones. "I will tend to your horse, you can help yourself in the meantime." And with that, he was back out the front door, shutting it behind himself with a definitive click that echoed through the silence.

Lucius sighed, forever grateful he'd found shelter, and entered the room Theodore had shown him to, bone tired, ready to fall right asleep.

Harry was more than a little surprised to find he wasn't alone in this mansion. It certainly seemed old and dusty enough. He had one servant apparently, though he didn't like to use that term. Theodore Nott, a Slytherin Harry only vaguely recognized, had taken the role of a butler/servant...? Harry wasn't sure. He asked not to be disturbed in his room, because he really had a lot to think about. He'd spent most of the day after he'd come to on the balcony, eyes searching the vast distance for any answer. He worried for Draco, he...he...cared for Draco, in a different way than he'd ever cared for anyone before. He'd been in plenty of dangerous situations, people who were dear to him had been in dangerous situations with him, he was no stranger to all of this, but this was still different. Because in this world, Draco was helpless. No magic, no knowledge of Muggles or their folklore, no way to fend for himself. Harry had to try to protect him, and he couldn't do that when they were separated, with no idea of each other's whereabouts. He never had to worry about his friends, because they were capable of protecting themselves, but here, Draco couldn't really do that. Harry knew he was competent, smart as a whip, he'd picked up on all of that through their training, but Harry still worried. He'd come to a place of realization that he might have gotten himself deeper than he ought to have, especially in a misplaced situation such as this one, but he also knew full well that there was no way something like this wouldn't have happened in an experience like thia. Perhaps not in the way it turned out to have played out, but it would have certainly had a drastic affect on the both of them.

If they ever managed to get back to their world, Harry was sure neither will be particularly inclined to pick squabbles and be reckless again. In hindsight, all of it looks so childish now, but Harry supposed it really was true that hindsight was 50:50. Currently he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking all this through. The pain had lessened from when he'd first found himself here, but he was still sore and strained. He wasn't sure he'd be much good for traveling a long distance just yet. Perhaps the next morning he'd feel better. Turning in his bed, he tried to drift off to sleep.

When Weasley finally put Draco down, Draco was fuming and ready to punch a bitch, even though Weasley was about twice his size. Looking around, Draco he saw they were in front of a large grotty house and sighed. What for did this arse bring him here? Before he could protest, Weasley was dragging him inside with the largest grin on his ugly face.

They were brought into a large room that was completely littered with trophies and medals. It was all thoroughly unimpressive. Draco lifted a haughty eyebrow, staring at everything in disdain while Weasley beamed and looked completely proud of himself.

"So you dragged me here, just to show me this junk?" The blonde seethed, slowly turning his back on the shamble behind him.

Weasley's face changed in a split second:

"Junk? Junk?! Haven't you any sense? Any guy in this town would kill for an opportunity you've got."

Draco had to laugh, he couldn't help himself:

"Uh-huh, sure, I'm certain every guy is simply dying to get you, a dumb ginger oaf."

Weasley sputtered and frowned, sneering:

"As a matter of fact, they are. And just who are you dying after then, if not me?"

Draco rolled his eyes. That was none of his business. So what if Draco happened to swoon over H-

"Earth to Draco." Weasley waved a fat hand in front of Draco, snapping him out of a very dangerous train of thought. "You've been standing there with this dazed grin for a full minute." Weasley looked genuinely confused.

Draco managed to roll his eyes once more and stalked out past Weasley, eager to get as far away from the ginger turd as possible.

This wasn't good. Definitely not good.

As morning arose, Harry woke up feeling a bit better. He wasn't in as much pain as yesterday, but his joints still ached. It was bearable though, so he stood and stretched. Figuring he should clear his head a little and think of a plan, he stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the large rose garden below and the forest cresting the land before his mansion as far as the eye could see. Looking nowhere in particular, Harry noticed a flash of something blonde and hunched over in the rose garden. Was that..? He rushed to the railing, leaning over it dangerously far, only to recognize it wasn't Draco, but it was his father. Lucius. Harry hadn't met him yet. Thinking quickly, Harry yelled down:

"Hey, you!"

Lucius jumped and looked around, finally looking up a second later.

"O-oh! Are you the master of this home? There was a storm last night and your servant let me in, I was just leaving."

Harry blinked. Lucius was surprisingly bloody nice.

"What are you doing in my garden then?" Harry mumbled the first question that came to his mind.

"My son asked for me to bring him back a rose from my travels, so I figured it would be alright if I took one home." Lucius explained, gesturing through the forest and beyond.

Harry's breath hitched and he bit down a grin. How to get Draco here now? He had no clue how to navigate the forest and Lucius could bring Draco here. Now the question was, how to get the man to do just that. Mulling it over for a second, a risky water came to Harry.

"Uh..I've been hospitable to you, and you dare to steal from me?!" Harry grimaced at the words, but Lucius seemed like he was considering it. "Unless you bring me the person you're taking the rose to, there will be great..uh..consequences!"

Lucius swallowed and visibly bristled. Harry stared him down with his best intimidating stare, and Lucius sighed and deflated painfully, nodding pitifully before plucking a rose, and turning around to mount his horse. He looked back up once more:

"He'll be here through three days. Just don't hurt us."

Harry nodded, dumbstruck, and Lucius rode into the forest.

When Draco finally found his way back to his house through the town, he was already completely done. More so with himself than anything else. Honestly. Letting himself get swept up in emotions. Unnecessary! A bloody waste of bloody time. Arriving to the front door, Draco entered only to find his father had returned from wherever he had gone.

"Hel-" He was interrupted before he could finish his sentence.

"You'll never believe what happened to me son!"

Draco blinked and inquired about it. And so, Lucius spun him a story of everything that'd happened, and what he agreed to. The blonde was astounded.

"Do you really believe some guy in a mansion in the woods can do anything to harm us?" Draco asked in disbelief. Surely his father was smarter than this.

Lucius shook his head, eyes serious as can be:

"He looked dangerous Draco. Long, mess of brown hair and he had these green eyes...they looked wild."

Oh. OH.

Nevermind.

Draco faked understanding.

"Oh, yes, that does sound pretty dangerous. I suppose we have no choice then but for me to go. Alas."

It was very difficult not to laugh at how Harry managed to scare his father. His real father would definitely not like this.

Draco was just glad they'd be getting out of here soon.

Harry was pretty restless after Lucius left. Theo had told him the Forbidden Forest, as the woods were called, was vast and dangerous and to not expect Draco to make it here, which worried Harry senseless. If Draco got hurt or died, Harry wasn't sure how to get out without him. From what he'd explored of his mansion, there was no portal that could take him out of here. Though, even if there was, it would be a moor point, because by now Harry was not going anywhere without the blonde idiot.

'There are wolves in the forest, sir. Don't get your hopes up.'

Theo had said.

Wolves.

Hopefully Draco would come out fine.

Lucius sent Draco off fretting and hesitant, a complete opposite to hi son, who was pretty smiley at the prospect. It was early morning and riding into this world's equivalent of the Forbidden Forest wasn't foreboding in the least like Lucius had thought. Draco had a grand time taking a ride through the forest, though he figured that was only because it was day and everything was light. Still, something felt a bit odd. The happy flips his heart was doing in hi chest. What did he have to be so happy for? Sure, they'd soon be out of here, but they'd done that numerous times already. Unable to put his finger on it, Draco quickly gave up musing, since it was already afternoon. He'd been riding the whole morning and hadn't even noticed it pass by. The forest stretched on, and Draco started to get a bit concerned he was going the wrong way, though he pushed on regardless. Checking the map his father drew him, he seemed to be on the right track, so it should be fine.

By the time night had started to fall, Draco had come upon a clearing, and beyond he could see a mansion. That must have been the place. However, Orion seemed suddenly antsy. He carefully walked into the clearing, beating his hoof against the dirt, eyes darting to the forest surrounding them. Draco bit his lip and straightened up on the horse, trying to see what had upset him so much. A low rustle in the brush disturbed the silence, and Orion spun his head around that direction, slowly starting to trot backwards. Draco was not only confused, he was a bit scared too now. Night has fallen already, it was getting awfully dark.

There came a growl from the trees.

Orion neighed in distress, and then a pack of six gray wolves stalked into the clearing, eyes flashing under the night sky.

The horse reared up on two legs, sending Draco flying off him, and galloped away into the woods, the wolves growling after it.

Draco quickly scrambled to his feet, woozy from impact, panic seizing him momentarily. He had not a clue there were wolves in this forest.

Apparently hungry wolves too.

Casting his eyes around frantically for something to defend himself with, he was terrified to find nothing in this clearing. The wolves began circling him and sniffing the air, as if trying to get a taste of him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck-

Draco stared ahead at the mansion. He couldn't outrun six wolves, not by a long shot, but he could try booking it into the brush and laying low, though that was a lukewarm plan at best, because the wolves could easily scent him out.

He was so close, dammit! He couldn't die now! Like this no less!

The beasts stepped closer, closing in. Draco felt like his heart would pop from his chest any second now. He was surrounded, defenseless and likely to get eaten. After everything he'd gone through, he'd die like this.

How fucking dumb.

One of the wolves howled, scaring Draco out of his skin. He jumped and that must have alarmed the animals because one lunged at him the very next moment. Ducking out of the way, Draco saw the wolf that jumped hit the ground hard, dust rising up. That was one down... He couldn't believe that'd just happened.

There was no way he'd be able to dodge all of them like that though, he just got lucky that time. They advanced and he took a step back, frantically trying to think of a way out.

Another jumped for him, but there was a blur of movement and a whine, followed by a heavy thump, and next thing Draco recognized was the wolf laying on its side on the ground, held down by something? Someone?

It was a large figure, with frayed clothes and long brown hair. Draco scrambled backwards, breath labored. Who...?

Another wolf lunged at him and the man spun around, grappling the wolf's neck before it could snap its jaws around his neck. The wolf pawed and scratched at this man, him crying out as he was struck, before he managed to get enough footing to swing it around and toss it into a tree. There were still three wolves standing though. Draco swallowed and tried his darndest to figure out just who had come to his rescue. When he glanced sideways at Draco, realization hit Draco like a truck.

Oh shit it's Harry!

Why did he look so..so...Draco bit his lip and shook his head. Harry turned to Draco and Draco was mildly horrified to find him bleeding from deep gashes that wolf had inflicted.

"We need to-" He didn't get to finish the sentence as he was tackled by two wolves and forced to the ground.

Draco could only stare in numb frozen shock, heart frozen in his chest as he watched in mute horror Harry struggle to fend off two snarling, biting wolves.

The final wolf turned its attention on Draco, who couldn't get a thought past panicking to run.

"RUN!" Harry yelled as he swung a leg to knee the wolf in the ribs, rolling it off himself. "Draco RUN! PLEASE RUN!" He screamed again, trying to push himself away under the animal's weight. Twisting his head, he narrowly avoided a bite to his neck, the beast sinking its teeth into the flesh of his shoulder. Harry cried out, pain flooding his senses.

The scream of pain snapped Draco from his haze and he had just enough time to turn tail and bolt before the wolf tailing him gave chase. Stumbling through the brush, Draco ran, not really knowing where he was going, only aware of the heavy paws thumping after him.

Harry buried his hands into the fur of the wolf's neck, bringing his knees under its belly to haul it up and over himself. As it flew above him, it tore out a bit of his shoulder, before slamming into the ground, unmoving.

Harry winced and breathed hard, his shoulder and gashes bleeding, the wound on his thigh reopened and ripped, weeping blood into the ground he lay on. When he heard the wolves howl back in his mansion, he was seized by a cold fear. This curse he was cursed with, Theo had told him all about it when Harry asked why he looked like he did, had enhanced his senses, and he heard the howling from the distance. Why the hell were they howling? Were they howling at something? Or...someone. Oh no.

A petal fell.

He ran out faster than he ever remembered running, following the sounds and smells until he saw the trees clearing up ahead. And there Draco was, surrounded by six wolves. One jumped at him, and Harry's heart stuttered, because he couldn't reach them in time, but Draco had dodged, sending the wolf sprawling and hitting its head. One down, five more. He ran out into the clearing, managing to tackle the next wolf that lunged for Draco, crushing it to the ground. There was no time to waste, because the pack was attacking now, another one of them tackling Harry, who stumbled around, grappling with it until he was stable enough to toss it away. Managed to dig its claws into him pretty deep though.

His heartbeat was thundering in his ears, heart pumping rapidly. Harry wasn't sure if he could handle the remaining three wolves, so he turned to Draco, hoping to get away as fast as possible and hope for the best. Draco looked completely frozen to the spot, but before Harry could utter a full sentence two came at him, their weight crumpling him to the ground. Harry was pinned, could hardly breathe, he was struggling to gain some leverage when he spotted out of the corner of his eye the last wolf stalking towards Draco.

No, no, no, no!

He frantically screamed at Draco to run, projecting his voice as loudly as he could, but Draco was completely petrified, not moving a muscle. His eyes were fixated on the wolf, but it didn't look like he saw much of it approaching him. Only when Harry got bit and howled in agony did he snap out of his fear induced paralysis and booked it into the woods. The wolf gave chase, but Harry had a more pressing issue. He could feel his ribs bruising from the weight on him and he managed to haul both wolves off him after a struggle, reopening the wound on his thigh while doing so.

Now he lay, feeling hot and chilled at the same time, his own blood wet upon the earth. He felt dizzy and woozy, like he'd drank a dozen sleeping draughts. His whole body throbbed and ached, though he couldn't really feel his wounds. Harry stared up at the night sky and stars, head spinning still. His eyes unconsciously searched for the draco constellation, heartbeat slowing down as he gazed upon it.

Another petal fell.

Draco had a few feet of a headstart, but he was well aware he couldn't outrun a grown wolf for long. It was already gaining on him. His lungs burned and he wheezed for air, mind working overtime to find a way to get away alive. The thick trees all around him slowed him down and had him stumbling over their roots, each time his heart skipping a few beats. He couldn't afford to slow down. The wolf was almost upon him now, time was running out. As he came upon another tree, he had but a second to consider, before jumping and grabbing onto the lowest hanging branch, pulling his weight up and swinging a leg around, rolling himself onto the thick limb. He continued to climb upwards, while the wolf growled and scratched at the tree from the ground. Wolves couldn't climb trees, thank Merlin.

Curled up on a sturdy branch a bit higher up, Draco could finally breathe. He was safe. For now at least. After a few deep breaths, he managed to collect himself a bit, clear his head a little. He left Harry back there. Gods, was he still alive? He had to be. He had to be. Draco refused to entertain any other possibility. Harry Potter was not fucking dead. No. He couldn't leave Draco here. He wouldn't dare.

H cursed loudly, wishing for the umpteenth time he had his magic here, so he could just Apparate to Harry, see if he was still alive, try to help, anything. Instead, he was stuck in this damned tree, with a wolf trailing around it, snarling and out for his blood. How did Harry even know where Draco was? Why was he so much larger and animalistic looking? The hell happened to him? So many questions swirled through his mind but none mattered more than whether Harry had survived mauling with wolves. It was a pressing weight of panic upon Draco's heart. What if he'd died? Then what? What would be the point of going back to the Wizarding World? Most of them hated Draco anyways, and Harry didn't seem to share their beliefs. And if he was dead now..even if Draco does find a way back, it wasn't really worth it.

Sitting up in that tree, he grew more and more restless, constantly squirming and fidgeting, glancing down to see whether the wolf had lost interest yet. Just as dawn was breaking, it growled up at the tree once more and turned tail, disappearing into the deep underbrush. It hadn't found Draco worthy or interesting enough to wait him out, which Draco was immensely thankful for. He stumbled down the tree as quietly as he could, breaking into a run back to the clearing the moment his feet hit the ground. As soon as he passed the treeline, he collapsed to his knees next to Harry. Looking over all his injuries, Draco was horrified. He'd never known such a deep terror could exist, for another's life. Harry was slowly blinking up at the sky, at the fading stars, he didn't seem to really register Draco much.

"Potter?" Draco murmured, not daring to speak any louder. "Harry?"

He slowly turned his head, green eyes glazed over as he seemed to recognize Draco next to him. He parted his lips to speak, but no sound came out.

Draco didn't know what to do, or say. He couldn't move Harry, for fear of making his injuries worse, but he couldn't leave him here either.

"You need to..to stay awake, just stay awake." Draco instructed, scared if Harry lost consciousness now, he'd lose his life too.

Harry weakly tried to reach out, his hand shaking. Draco stared at it for a moment, then took it. He gripped his hand tightly, comforted by the warmth. It meant Harry was still here.

"You can't die Potter. Not now. Please don't." The blonde chided, his vision blurring as he felt tears prickling his eyes. Harry's grip on his hand was steadily weakening. His eyelids were fluttering, he was on knife's edge of wakefulness.

Draco had to do something. This couldn't end this way. Weren't fairy tales supposed to have happy endings?

He replayed all the other stories they went through in his head, trying to pinpoint something specific Harry did each time to help Draco...when he realized with a skip to his heartbeat.

Harry kissed him every time.

Praying to every deity that existed, Draco propped himself above Harry, who was deathly pale and nearly completely limp by now. His chest rose and fell weakly, but Draco prayed this would fix it. He lowered himself, and pressed his lips to Harry's gently. They were barely warm and unresponsive, but Draco didn't dare move a muscle, hoping beyond hope this would yield salvation.

The last petal fell.

In the very next moment, he felt himself getting swung through thin air, then he hit the ground and rolled a few times before coming to a stop in a field and some light woods. Scrambling to sit up, Draco looked around and realized these were the fields out back of the Ministry of Magic. Oh sweet Merlin they were back!

A rush of joy seized him and he laughed, loudly and jovially. He couldn't believe they made it out! Speaking of, where was Harry? Looking around, Draco's heart sank, when he realized Harry wasn't with him. He quickly stood and called out his name, but there was no response. Did he...did he stay behind? No, no way, he couldn't have, it couldn't be. Why would he not have teleported back with Draco? Was he too weak? Starting to panic again, Draco went looking for the hole they'd fallen down, only to find it closed, sealed over.

A cold terror stiffened him.

It was...it was closed.

Harry was trapped down there.

Not wasting a second after realizing that, Draco ran for the Ministry like the Devil was at his heels. People stared at him aghast as he ran past them, but he didn't care, he made straight for Weasley's office, bursting through the door, scaring the shit out of the man.

The redhead stared at him for a full thirty seconds while Draco caught his breath, and then they both started frantically speaking at the same time:

"Weasley-" "Malfoy-" "Harry is-" "Where have you bee-"

The entire commotion summoned Hermione to the room, who looked equally as unhinged as her husband upon seeing Draco standing before her. She cut out their scrambling with a 'enough!' and they both snapped back to their senses.

"Malfoy! Where the hell have you been?! Where's Harry?! A search party had been looking for you since the day the Ministry paired off Aurors!"

Draco shook his head and swallowed another onslaught of panic:

"No time to explain, Harry's in danger, possibly dead, you have to come with me right now!"

Neither of them needed telling twice, and within ten minutes they were back in the fields by the, now closed, hole.

Draco explained in a few quick sentences what happened to them and how Harry was now trapped down there.

Whether they believed him or not was up for debate, but both humored him at least because Harry was still gone, and they hadn't found a better explanation as of yet.

Being raised Muggle, Hermione knew exactly what Draco was describing, while Ron seemed a bit more lost, but clued in pretty quickly.

"Harry was injured right? I think you're right, he was physically too weak to withstand teleporting back." She mused and walked the perimeter of the tree, digging the heel of her shoe into the dirt covering up the hole Malfoy and Harry had supposedly fallen down. It was uneven and rough, as if it were freshly veiled.

"This Fableland kept transporting you through fairy tales, where you usually played the part of the damsel in distress, while Harry played the part of the hero...If he was...dying...from his injuries, and couldn't fulfill his role in the next story, the land itself cast you out as unnecessary, and he stayed because his body was too weak." Hermione theorized, growing paler with each word.

Ron knelt down and pulled out his wand, casting a spell to scan through the ground.

"And the hole must have closed the entrance to the land, because there was no one to fill neither yours nor Harry's roles in the stories." He elaborated his wife's theory, standing up straight again while the earth was getting scanned for traces of magic or magical signature. It came back negative. Like nothing was there at all, like nothing even existed there.

"That's all well and good, but how the fuck do we get him out?" Draco paced a spot, filled with a sense of urgency like he'd never felt before. Harry was dying back there, maybe he'd already...no...

"I think we need something from this world to pull him back. I know you two couldn't use magic down there, maybe if you cast your magic here it could jolt him out of there. Obviously there's some sort of connection between you two since you both played a part in the stories, so I'm hoping we might be able to use that to our advantage." The frizzy haired woman suggested, and Draco agreed, they didn't have a better idea.

He reached for his wand, but found it was gone. Patting his pockets, his wand was nowhere to be found. Had he lost it down there at some point?

"My wand is gone. I must have dropped it somewhere down there." He muttered, feeling sick. He never really learned how to cast wandlessly, and he really needed to be able to do just that this very moment.

Ron paled and bit into his nails for a tense moment, until something dawned on him.

"Maybe Harry has it? He could've picked it up, right? Right?" He sounded painfully hopeful.

"It's certainly possible." Hermione nodded, similarly as distressed.

Draco shook his head ruefully:

"Even if Harry did have my wand with him, it's pointless, I can't cast wandless."

Hermione stared far off for a moment, and then grinned like she'd solved the puzzle:

"No, no, this works in our favor actually! The Fableland does have magic in general, and if you cast a powerful spell up here, like summon a Patronus for example, it would send a charge of magic through your wand strong enough Harry could use to come back!"

Draco bristled and swallowed a lump. Summon a Patronus...? He'd never been able to.

"Malfoy? Can you do it?" Ron asked, rubbing the back of his neck. From what he remembered in training, Malfoy had never really summoned a Patronus. That's not to say he couldn't, but still...

Draco continued pacing and cursing quietly under his breath:

"I've never..." He admitted. "Can it be something else?"

Hermione looked sheepish:

"A Patronus is Harry's best bet, because it symbolizes protection and happiness, the will to survive...It could be his only chance.."

Draco cursed again, scuffing the ground with the tip of his shoe. Summon a Patronus...wandless. He had to do it. There was nothing for it. He couldn't live with himself if he let Harry die.

"Fine. Just..give me some space will you?" Draco asked the two and they stepped away immediately, partially obscured by a few trees. They could still see him, but he couldn't really see them much.

Planting both his feet firmly on the ground, Draco took a deep breath to clear his mind. He called on his magic, stirring it up again after so long, feeling it spread through him like an old friend. He concentrated on everything that'd happened, letting events replay through his mind, the memories freeflowing through him. Draco called back the feelings he'd felt through those moments, searching for one of tranquility and joy, something soft and meaningful.

And then, it was right before his eyes, clear as crystal, as real and warm as if he was watching it unfold right this moment.

They danced.

"Expecto Patronum." He gently called.

And from the tips of Draco's fingers sprung a dazzling silver form.

It was a stag.

Draco blinked and smiled as he realized he'd just cast his first ever Patronus. His pride wasn't longlived however, as he also realized Harry's Patronus was a stag too.

And he wasn't as surprised as he'd thought he'd be when the implication of that dawned on him. Quite opposite, he welcomed it, for he already knew. He'd known for a long time actually.

The stag pranced around the field, circling around Draco and hopping around, playful as ever.

Hermione and Ron approached again, their faces the pinnacle of shock and daze. It wasn't lost on them either, but Draco couldn't really bring himself to care. All that really mattered was that this plan works out, and that Harry comes back to him alive.

"Malfoy...you..." Hermione murmured, vaguely pointing at the stag. "Really?" She asked.

Draco looked away and sighed. Gods, yes, really. He'd never quite felt something as real before. Draco turned back to her and answered:

"Yes, really."

Hermione sobered up at the serious tone of his voice and said nothing more of the subject, while Ron didn't seem capable of speaking at all.

Draco hardly paid attention to them. His heart was in his throat, he was counting the minutes.

Come on, come on, please...

Deep in the Forbidden Forest, on a sunlit clearing, lay a body. A body of a man who'd bled for his heart. A heart that no longer beat. He lay still, face upturned to the heavens, for his beloved's name was etched into the no longer visible stars. The last sight his eyes saw before they fell closed a final time were those exact stars, shining brighter than all others in the night sky.

Though his life had ended, his story had not. For someone loved him too much to allow it so. There was a charge through the air, a flare bright and powerful, energy teeming through. All of it collected into a fine hawthorn length, which buzzed and radiated with powerful magic. It sunk into the man, lighting his skin aglow, filling his heart with strife and strength, calling out to him, loudly, desperately, calling out his name.

And he heard those yearning calls. He heard them, and awoke.

Tale as old as time, true as it can be...

When Harry woke up, he had no idea where he was for a few seconds, before it all came back to him in a rush. The memories, the pain, the strain, all of it hit him at once. He found he still sustained all the injuries from before, but he felt energized. He felt so alive.

Just a little change, small to say the least, both a little scared, neither one prepared...

Breathing deeply he sat up and looked around for Draco, though he was nowhere to be found. Harry tried to focus on where Draco might be now, when he realized that something was pulsing against his skin. He patted himself down, brows furrowed, until he remembered.

Draco's wand!

He still had it, back from Wonderland, when Draco had been captured.

Ever just the same, ever a surprise, ever as before, and ever just as sure, as the sun will rise...

The wand was warm, and glowing. Harry could feel strong magic radiating from it. That was odd, they couldn't use magic here. Yet here it was, in his hand. Standing up with a wince, mindful of his still painful wounds, Harry tucked the wand away for now, deciding to look around for Draco first before trying anything risky.

Tale as old as time, tune as old as song, bittersweet and strange, finding you can change, learning you were wrong...

Harry limped out of the forest and towards his mansion, wondering if Draco had gone there when he ran from that wolf that was on him.

Wherever he went, Harry hoped he was safe.

Certain as the sun, rising in the east, tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme...

Making it into his mansion, Theo was horrified to see him in such a condition, but Harry waved him away, adamant there was no time for treatment, he had something more urgent to resolve. It took a bit of persuading, but Theodore gave in in the end, and Harry went through the mansion, looking for Draco.

Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, a love that'll never cease...

Draco wasn't in the mansion, which worried Harry a bit. He pondered where to go next, when he realized how stupid he'd been. The wand! He should've just used it to Apparate to wherever Draco was!

Harry shook his head at himself, and pulled out Draco's wand, still shimmering and pulsing.

A love that'll never cease...

Gripping it tightly, Harry thought of Draco, and of Draco only, and he spun on the spot, Apparating away.

Draco was growing just a tad hysterical the more time passed.

Did it work?

It had to work.

Hermione and Ron weren't much better off either, she'd already frizzed her hair even more from fiddling with it while they waited, and Ron had worn a hole in the ground he paced.

Draco felt as if he was teetering on the very edge of sanity, when there was a loud whip of the wind, and something heavy fell on top of him, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The weight quickly scrambled off of him, and then spoke in an awfully familiar voice:

"Oh! Sorry Draco-"

Draco would recognize that blasted voice anywhere. It was Harry. God, it was Harry! Draco sat up lighting quick, staring in wonder at Harry who was kneeling right next to him. He couldn't believe it worked! Unable to stop himself, he lunged forwards and tackled Harry in a hug, so relieved to have him back here, alive. A radiant joy overwhelmed him and all he could do was hold his love tighter.

Harry overbalanced when Draco tackled him and fell onto his back, the other wrapped around him. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Draco's frame too, accepting the tight embrace. He was so happy to be alive, to be holding Draco, he felt like he could take the world if it made the mistake of coming for him. And it was there in that moment, with the blonde man in his arms, that Harry knew without a shadow of a doubt, that he loved Draco. Truly, deeply loved him. And it felt incredible, to love someone. Felt as if he could fly without wings.

Draco's shoulders trembled under Harry's palms, and Harry felt him sniff against his neck. Was he...crying? Harry sat up with some effort, not once letting go of the other, and slotted them more comfortably for each other. A sudden cold wetness over his skin confirmed Harry's suspicions that Draco was, indeed, crying. The raven hoped it was from happiness and not grief, and even dared hope that happiness was perhaps borne of seeing him again. Ah, a man can dream...

"Hey, why are you crying?" Harry murmured through a poorly concealed smile.

"Shut up." Draco mumbled in response. "I'm not." He further insisted.

Harry chuckled a quiet, indulgent chuckle and acquiesced:

"Of course not."

After another moment, Harry looked around, noting the trees and field. It did seem kind of familiar.

"Where are we now?" He asked Draco, wondering what story they ended up in this time. Draco pulled back with the widest grin, his eyes still watery and face tear strained:

"Home." He replied simply.

Harry's mouth dried. For real?

"Wait, really? We're back?"

Draco nodded:

"Yes, we are."

A disbelieving ease washed over Harry when he took a closer look around and it clicked that those were the exact woods they'd stumbled upon the hole in. His joy soared when he noticed Ron and Hermione standing a few feet away, and he scrambled up and ran to them. They embraced him tightly, all three laughing at nothing in particular.

"Welcome back mate!" Ron clapped him on the shoulder, while Hermione assessed his wounds:

"Malfoy was right, this is pretty bad. The magic is still keeping it all stable, but we should get you to a hospital as soon as possible. Oh but Harry, I'm so happy you're back! We were so worried!"

Harry chuckled and smoothed down her hair:

"I can imagine. I'm sorry. It was all an accident really."

Ron laughed:

"Yeah, Malfoy told us, though he was way too frantic and panicked to tell us everything."

Harry furrowed his brows, glancing back at Draco, who still sat on the ground, looking up at the sun, eyes closed, beautiful and relaxed as ever.

"Why was he panicking?" Harry turned back to his best friends.

"Because you were held behind in the Fableland. He thought he'd lost you for good. Don't you know this already though?" Hermione replied, looking confused.

"Know what already?" Harry was completely lost as to what they were talking about. Ron not-so-discreetly nudged Mione in the ribs with his elbow and she cleared her throat:

"Oh, nothing, don't worry about it. Right now, we have to get you to Mungo's, to have your injuries treated."

She plastered on her best deceitful smile and batted her eyelashes twice. Harry was suspicious to say the least, but didn't get to ask because she ushered Ron and him ahead, said she'd stay behind to get more details from Draco about this other world. So they left for Mungo's.

Hermione sighed and went to Malfoy, tapping him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes and stood up. They started walking together in an amicable silence, before she broke it:

"He doesn't know." She stated.

"Doesn't know what?" Malfoy attempted to play dumb, but Hermione noticed his cheeks flush.

"You know precisely what." The woman deadpanned. Malfoy sighed next to her:

"Of course he doesn't know. I'm not an idiot."

Hermione figured that Malfoy wouldn't of ever said anything on his own, but she assumed there must have been some idea of it based on that hug they'd shared.

"I don't know about that. Based on that hug, I figured there was something there for sure."

Malfoy bristled and looked off to the side somewhere:

"Well, you figured wrong, because there's absolutely nothing there."

Hermione said nothing more, but she couldn't shake the feeling something was off between the two of them.

It had taken a few weeks for Harry to recover from his injuries, and get cleared to go back to work, and, if he was being honest, he felt nervous. He wasn't sure how his and Draco's relationship would progress. Would they become friends? Would they go back to being rivals? Anything was possible, and Harry just hoped they could remain on friendly terms. He finally had some time to think about everything and he had come to the conclusion it was best to settle for remaining just friends. There was no point in digging himself a hole he couldn't dig himself out of, so he found his solution most practical.

Coming back to work, his hopes of friendship were smashed. Draco was...distant, to put it mildly. He didn't talk much, staying laser-focused on their work and nothing else, he was always tense and irritable, always tapping his foot or drumming his fingers on his desk. Whenever Harry tried to talk to him, he'd either be ignored, or get a snippy, curt reply. It was like they were back to before. All cold and snappy. Harry had no idea what was up, and the one time he'd tried to ask, Draco had formally informed him it was none of his business and exactly where to shove it.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Ron were acting awfully suspicious whenever the topic of Draco would crop up (Harry took no responsibility). They'd exchange a brief glance then squirm and avert the topic, all while looking for all the world like they were bursting to tell him something. He'd even come into their office one day to find Hermione going off on Draco within the privacy of a silencing bubble. She was waving her arms and red in the face and he looked rightfully terrified. That day was particularly nasty and rough. Harry made the mistake of asking what the hell was all that about, and got chewed out mercilessly.

It had Harry pretty deep down in the dumps, since his feelings hadn't waned, and Draco appeared to have gone back to loathing him no problem, as if nothing ever happened in the Fableland. It was so strange it bordered on suspicious, but Harry had to remember they were on pretty bad terms before, so it wasn't that surprising that it would go back to that, even if Harry didn't particularly want it to.

After three depressing months, Harry decided it would be for the best to just request a change of partner.

Draco was frustrated beyond belief.

Every day and night he just couldn't get Harry stupid Potter out of his goddamn head. He wanted everything so much, wanted to kiss him and hold him and be kissed and held by him.

But it couldn't be.

So Draco distanced himself, figuring it'd hurt less that way. It didn't. Regardless, he kept his distance. Harry, of course, made everything exceptionally difficult by being the most perfect human being to ever exist. And so Draco's plight was neverending.

Even Hermione had noticed all the misery and yelled at him about it, as if it was her place to do so. Pansy, too, continuously yells at him daily about it. Even Ronald bloody Weasley gives him a pitiful glance every once in a while. Pretty much everyone is hammering the same thing into his head, and he is pretty stubbornly ignoring them. He didn't know how much longer he could stand doing this, but he planned to go on as long as possible. When it all blew up in his face, and it would, well...Draco figured he'd cross that bridge when he got there. Everything was semi-fine that way, until the morning he walked into the office only to find Harry clearing his desk and packing his stuff into a box.

"The hell are you doing?" Was out of his mouth before he could think twice, and Harry replied without looking away from packing:

"I put in a request to switch partners. It was approved."

The room spun for a brief moment:

"What? Why?"

Harry stopped, glanced at Draco out of the corner of his eye and then resumed packing up folders and notes with a heavy sigh:

"See, I've been asking myself that exact thing for the past three months, and I still haven't got an answer." He then turned towards Draco, and took a few steps closer, eyes unyielding. "Why. Why are you still always so cross with me? I just can't figure out what it is I did wrong to deserve it, and I likely never will. What I can do however, is leave."

He turned back and grabbed the box, making to leave the office. The door shut and locked before he could get out. Draco hadn't even realized his magic had acted up.

"No." He turned to face Harry, who seemed pretty bewildered.

"No? I wasn't exactly asking permission." The raven rolled his eyes.

"No, you're not going anywhere." Draco reiterated, he couldn't let Harry leave like this. He couldn't do that to himself.

"Give me one good reason not to then." Harry set his box down and crossed his arms, shifted his weight and waited.

"I-" Draco's mouth felt dry.

"Thought as much. Unlock the door Draco." Harry shook his head and sighed, making to turn away.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Draco strode towards him, spun him around and kissed him with everything's he got.

Of all the things that could have happened, Harry expected this one the least. He certainly wasn't about to complain though as he melted into kiss, pouring all of his confusion and anger and want into it. It was messy and desperate and absolutely perfect.

When they parted for breath, Harry cleared his throat:

"Alright, I'll give it to you, that was a pretty good reason."

Draco flushed and bit his lip:

"Yea?"

Harry nodded and picked up his stuff, walked back to his desk and plopped it all on top of it.

"What was up all this time then?" He asked, leaning his hip on the desk, arms crossed across his chest. Draco shrugged, looking positively chided.

"Eh well, you know..." He waved his hand, as if that explained anything, flushed to the tips of his ears.

Oh now Harry was curious.

"I don't know. I'm afraid you'll have to tell me." He delivered the line with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, he was sure.

Draco sighed and tried again, gesturing wildly with his hands all the while:

"You know...it was just...ehh, ugh.."

It was around that moment that it dawned on Harry.

"Ohhhhhh-"

He couldn't help but burst out laughing at the prospect. Sexual frustration is a bitch.

"Shut the fuck up." Draco huffed, and Harry chuckled a final time before pushing off the table and approaching the blonde.

"So was this why Hermione was ripping you a new one that one time?" Harry snickered at the memory.

"Yep." Draco confirmed.

The raven sighed contently and kissed Draco again.

"Say, do you know how most Muggle fairy tales end?" Harry leaned into Draco, pressing into the crook of his neck.

"Enlighten me." Draco replied, resting his cheek on the top of Harry's head.

Harry smiled into his neck, and replied:

"And then they lived happily ever after."

Fin.