Author's Note: Enjoy, and as always, we love to hear from you guys and what you look forward to the most. . .

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling. Thanks


CHAPTER 35: THINGS DERAILED

Draco Black,

We very gratefully acknowledge your kind expressions of celebration and your presence on the day we chose to finalise our marriage. We were thrilled to have you with us at Malfoy Manor and are hopeful for your return for future merriments.

Hoping you are well,

Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy

Draco ran his fingers along the creamy paper with the beautiful cursive handwriting inscribed on the front. His heart was beating so fast now, he found it amazing that none of the owls had freaked out from the noise of it. He hadn't expected mail from anyone, this was true. But when he woke early that morning from the tapping of an owl at his window, he knew it was going to be something interesting.

Standing there in the owlry now, with a sweater over his pajamas, Draco frowned down at the letter and bit hard on his lip. It was the last thing he'd expected. He didn't even know how to feel, reading this letter...thank-you note...whatever it was. Here his parents were, writing letters to him, without even knowing who he truly was...why it was difficult for him to talk with them...and how he felt, knowing he couldn't say anything real to them.

But the part that was truly messing up his mind now, the part that made his hands sweaty, was where they subtly wrote that they are "hopeful for his return for future merriments". He bloody well knew what that meant. It meant that seeing him at their wedding had sparked newfound curiosity and they would now stop at nothing to further investigate him...figure out who he truly was and what his real agenda was. Even Draco didn't know what his agenda was, but something told him it wouldn't take long for his father to figure it out.

If he was being really honest with himself, he was at fault for assuming otherwise...that they would just drop it. Of course they'd want him to come back. Of course they'd want to interrogate him. If Bellatrix did, why shouldn't his own parents? They were still the same people he knew back in his old timeline—the same two people who had bloody raised him. Different versions of them, sure, but still the very same. How the hell was he supposed to stand up to them?

When he got back from the owlry, his mind all clouded over and his hands and feet freezing, the marauders were already up and getting ready to head out for breakfast. Peter was the only one who seemed to notice how ghostly Draco looked, but Draco shook his head at him and followed the boys to the Great Hall. He'd hardly slept the night before, what with his meditation taking up a great deal of time, though still he found himself fully alert.

Alert, and in fact, highly motivated to do some more meditating. He was really feeling the shape forming itself into one with his own and felt an urgency at this point to just keep pursuing it. And so, right after breakfast, he hurried back to the dormitory and did just that. The boys were surprised at his hurry but once they realized what he was doing, they let him be. Sirius was more persistent than the others, claiming that he didn't want anyone disturbing Draco because it was about time he earned his transformation already.

At around lunchtime however, Draco grew bored with the meditations and was already developing a light headache. Having had enough for one weekend, he decided to put it behind him and join the boys downstairs. Remus had them all doing homework, but as soon as Draco showed up, they put everything away and got out the games instead.

He was happy to just spend some time with them, hanging out and not doing anything that required too much energy. As long as he didn't have to use his brain, he was all set. And card games seemed to be the way to go.

He managed to put the letter from the Malfoys at the back of his mind and not think about it for the rest of the weekend, as it lay tucked away in his bedside table up in the dormitory. But by Monday morning, it resurfaced in his mind and he sat there, picking at his cereal bowl, sleep deprived once again and frowning.

"You okay there?" James asked, watching him.

Draco looked up.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Fine."

"You look a lot like Remus, you know, after a moon...?" Sirius pointed out.

Remus gave him a dark look and Peter looked around the Gryffindor table, hoping no one had overheard Sirius, for Remus's sake.

"I'm fine," Draco repeated. "Just tired, that's all."

"Take a nap after fourth period," Peter suggested.

"Not a bad idea," Sirius added.

"Nah, I'll be okay," Draco said, pushing his untouched cereal bowl away. "And anyway, I wanna meditate after class until dinner."

"What—are you crazy?" said Remus suddenly. "You're gonna overwork yourself with that. What's the rush, anyway?'

The boys all fell silent. Remus looked from one to another, outraged.

"What?" he repeated.

"We kind of want Draco ready to join us for your next moon," Sirius said quietly.

"Seriously?" said Remus, staring at him and then at Draco. "Is that what you really want?"

"Well yeah, it's kind of the whole point of why I'm doing this in the first place," Draco said, shrugging.

"But it's dangerous," Remus began, but the boys were no longer listening to him as they stood up and started exiting the Great Hall, their book bags at their shoulders and tired looks on their faces.

Monday morning. Brilliant.

On the whole, it wasn't too bad a day. Busy for sure, and definitely full of more homework loads, but not terrible. By fourth period, Draco's headache had subsided slightly and he was feeling much better and ready to meet Severus. When he met him however, it didn't take long for his headache to start up again. And Severus was largely to blame for this...

"What did you get for this one?" he asked as he underlined one of the test questions in his Dark Arts book from Claybrook's class.

"I put option C," Draco said after a brief glance.

"But couldn't it also be option D?" said Severus, frowning at his book.

"Nah, it couldn't be," said Draco at once.

"Yeah it could," said Severus. "Don't you remember Claybrook saying—"

"Sev, I'm tellin' you, it couldn't," said Draco. He sat up and reached for one of the books in Severus's pile. "Here, I'll—"

"No Draco, don't!"

The pile toppled down like a smashed sandcastle and Draco frowned at Severus before his eyes fell on the title of one of his books. He picked it up in his hands and examined it for a few seconds before his eyes fell on Severus again.

"Apparition?" he said heatedly. "I thought I told you to stop with that! It's dangerous stuff!"

"Calm down, it's not a big deal," said Severus, grabbing the book from him, which Draco pulled away instantly.

"No, Sev! You...you can't! You don't understand the deprecations and...just the overall consequences of your actions...of how badly this could end..."

"That's just a little dramatic, don't you think?" said Severus, finally grabbing the book from Draco's hands and burying it back in his pile, which he was now fixing.

"But..."

"Look Draco, I'm a grown person. I'll deal with it, okay?"

"But Sev!"

"Nose down, Draco."

Draco sighed in frustration. There was just no winning with this one.

"Fine," he mumbled, making a mental note to bring up the issue again. And soon, too.

They continued with their Defense homework like nothing happened, and when they were done with that, they moved on to Potions—Severus's area of expertise. Draco pulled out his copy of the Half Blood Prince's book and was pleasantly surprised at how much quicker he got his homework done. He was definitely grateful to Severus for this amazing gift, even if he was being an annoying prat today.

"So how's Magick Moste Evile?" Severus asked casually after a while.

Draco rolled his eyes. "And speaking of Regulus," he said, "Has he said anything to you?"

"About what?"

"You know...stuff..."

Severus looked up from the notebook he was writing in and gave Draco a frown. "What in particular?"

Draco shrugged as best as he could without looking too suspicious. "Just wondering I guess, whether or not he has anything going on in his life right now...like besides school..."

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"I hardly see him when we're at school. We're not exactly in the same house, if you haven't noticed."

"We aren't in the same house either," Severus pointed out.

"Yeah but we're in the same year," said Draco. "And I can't exactly force Regulus into our sixth year classes when he hasn't even done his OWLs, now can I?"

Severus chuckled. "Well what about the weekends?"

"I spend most of my weekends with the guys..." Draco said, before his voice trailed off.

"You mean Potter..." said Severus, disgust on his face.

"Whatever Sev, at least he's not Mulciber," said Draco.

"I don't hang out with Mulciber much."

"And I don't hang out with James much."

Severus rolled his eyes and shook his head at Draco, busying himself with his book again.

Draco laughed. He could do this all day.

"So...Regulus?" he finally said after another moment of silence.

"I dunno, he's fine in my opinion," Severus said, looking tired and annoyed. "Why are you asking?"

"I just worry about the kid."

"What for?"

Draco bit down on his lip again. If Severus wasn't understanding this, then that had to mean he didn't know anything about Regulus' private little meetings with Voldemort and his precious death eaters. Logically, if he'd known, he wouldn't be so surprised at Draco's concern for the kid now.

. . . would he?

As the week passed, Draco noticed several things—distinct little differences about the way this term was going so far. Aside from the increase in workloads from each and every subject, the freezing cold and never-ending snow, and the perpetual nervous energy around the school regarding anything war-related, Draco also noticed something even greater. Each of the marauders was acting strangely kind to one another and even laying off some of the usual jokes. It wasn't so much that they had grown bored with them as it was them simply making greater effort to just be there for each other where it mattered.

Remus, as usual, was more than willing to help out each of the boys with notes for classes and test questions for studying. Sirius was reminding everyone of everything they kept forgetting because they were all so on edge and preoccupied. James was offering kind words of encouragement and support, letting each of his friends know that whatever they were struggling with, they'd overcome, whether it be an upcoming quiz or incapability to get up in the early hours of the morning and actually learn something. And Peter was trying to make the boys laugh more so than usual.

It was distinct, very subtle, but still there. And Draco wasn't the only one who noticed.

On Wednesday, after Potions, Draco was on his way to Gryffindor Tower with the guys when he spotted Regulus sitting by himself on the stairs in the Entrance Hall. He instantly walked over to sit with him, and the boys, exchanging glances, let him be.

"Hey," Regulus said, closing up his book and smiling at Draco. He looked pleased to see him.

"What you reading?" Draco asked, trying to catch the cover of the book in Regulus's lap.

"Oh it's just something on potions and other substances," said Regulus. "How have you been?"

"Fine, just busy with homework and stuff," said Draco, reaching for the book. "Can I?"

"Yeah," Regulus handed him the book and leaned back against the stair railing. Draco flipped open the book.

"Are you looking into pursuing something potions-related?" Draco asked as he flipped through the pages.

"Who knows," Regulus mumbled. "Right now I'm just trying to keep my grades up and not fall behind again. OWLs are coming up, you know. Lots to do."

"Yeah, I'll bet..." Draco's voice trailed off as he flipped to a random page inside which was tucked a letter.

He pulled it out and unfolded it.

Regulus Black,

We very gratefully acknowledge your kind expressions of celebration and your presence on the day we chose to finalise our marriage. We were thrilled to have you with us at Malfoy Manor and are hopeful for your return for future merriments.

Hoping you are well,

Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy

Draco looked up at Regulus. "You...you got one too?"

"Yeah mate, everyone did," said Regulus, taking it from him and shoving it in his bag. "What, you thought you were the only one?"

"I...wait so like...Rosier and Nott too?"

"Yeah, everyone." Regulus paused. "Why are you so weirded out? It's called a thank-you note. Haven't you ever heard of one?"

"Yeah but like...they're all identical then..." Draco mumbled.

Regulus shrugged. "It's a spell." He looked at Draco again and frowned, then rolled his eyes. "Well come on, you saw yourself, lots of people showed up at that wedding. Do you honestly believe the Malfoys have time to write individual notes to each and every guest?"

"I...I guess not..." said Draco.

Regulus packed up his things and stood up. "I gotta go. I'll see you later."

He walked off.

"See ya," Draco mumbled, still sitting on the stairs.

He didn't know why he felt numb after his conversation with Regulus. He'd honestly thought he'd feel better, knowing that the Malfoys hadn't taken any particular interest in him—that they'd sent the exact same letter with the exact same wording to every guest. Yet here he was, sulking on the stairs, feeling disappointed that they hadn't changed his letter a little bit...even just one or two words. It was already bad enough that his own parents didn't recognize him. Was this really that much to ask for?

On Thursday, during a work period in Muggle Studies, Draco noticed James acting astoundingly different. He wasn't as laid back and relaxed as usual. In fact, he was extremely focused on the lesson and more than determined to get his work done. When Draco asked him about it at lunch, James only shrugged and said he was just trying to actually do well in school for once.

"It's Lily," Sirius said as soon as Draco brought it up to him in private. "It has to be."

"You think?"

"Trust me."

They were walking along the corridor on their way to the pitch for James's last-minute-called meeting for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"I've known James a long time and if he's suddenly smartening up and leaving his youthful days behind him, then he means business."

"Yeah but does that have to mean changing everything about yourself? I mean, isn't that kind of wrong?"

"Not if that's what he wants."

"Or what he thinks he wants," Draco mumbled.

Sirius looked at him with a frown. "You sure you're okay with this? Him going after her?"

"What—yeah of course!" Draco said quickly. "I'm just saying, it's a bit unfair...you know, for him to be making all these changes just for her sake. Like, what does he get out of this?"

"Her, hopefully," said Sirius simply, starting to walk again.

Draco didn't know what to say to that so he just resorted to saying nothing at all. He bundled his scarf up around him as he and Sirius reached the front doors and exited the castle. They were instantly met with a rush of freezing wind and snow blowing right in their faces.

"Why are we meeting way the hell out here?!" Sirius shouted over the wind as he led the way across the courtyard to the bridge.

Draco only followed him, his entire body freezing up from the cold. James was a lot of things, but this was taking it one step too far. They finally reached the pitch, where the other team players were all huddled, shivering and waiting as James continued with his speech. He gave Sirius and Draco a nod of acknowledgement at their arrival and continued.

"We're going to have to really step up our game and work harder than ever if we want a shot at the Quidditch Cup. Losing that last game put us in a bit of a tight spot, but it's nothing we can't fix with a little hard work. So here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna meet in the common room every Monday night for strategy talks, and then we're gonna meet out here every Thursday evening for a team practice. Closer to the day, we'll extend it to three times a week..."

The team members continued to shiver as they stood, listening to what James was saying, probably none of them wanting to be out in the snow at the moment. Frank met Draco's eyes briefly and gave him a nod, which Draco reciprocated. He stood there, wondering why he was even needed at the meeting. James seemed to have things all under control and Draco wasn't even an official player. He would much rather be inside, in the warmth of the common room, sipping tea by the fireplace and reading some book, or simply just resting. Remus and Peter had no idea how lucky they were.

The next day, finally Friday, Draco's headache seemed to have gone away completely and he wasn't feeling as tired. Classes weren't even a burden and the day seemed to pass by fairly quickly. Draco saw Severus briefly and even spotted Regulus and waved at him. But for the most part, he spent the day with the marauders, simply enjoying the fact that he and James were back to normal and that everything was fine.

At suppertime however, when the boys just sat down and started getting their plates ready, Lucinda, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, walked over to them in the Great Hall, with two other players on her sides.

"May we help you?" Frank asked, being the first to notice. James looked up from his plate and stared at the girl.

"Captain?" she said.

"Here," said James.

She folded her arms in front of her. "It has come to my attention that you are not following all rules established for Hogwarts Quidditch."

"No?"

"No."

James looked round at Sirius, who shrugged, and then back at the girl. "And exactly which rule do you speak of?"

"The one that clearly states you are only allowed seven players on a team," said Lucinda.

James raised his eyebrows and looked around the table at all his teammates, who were now looking very curious. "Am I missing something?"

"So Black here is not an official member then?" the girl gestured at Draco and he looked at James.

"No," James said, his eyes on his friend. "He is not an official member."

"I beg to differ," said Lucinda, turning his attention back to her. "Several of my teammates, as well as many other Hogwarts students, have spotted him joining all of you for practices and team meetings." She glared at Draco once before turning back to James. "And, if I recall correctly, he played one game earlier this year..."

James looked to Draco again, not saying anything but looking like he wanted to apologize to him for what he was about to say to Lucinda. He turned back to her and cleared his throat.

"You have a problem with how we do things over here in Gryffindor? Take it up with the headmaster."

Lucinda's two players exchanged looks of surprise, but she only smirked and leaned forward. "I just might," she promised, moving away from the Gryffindor table.

Draco started to protest but James stopped him at once.

"As long as I'm captain of this team, I'll decide how things are done," he declared. "If she's got a problem, she can talk to Dumbledore. I'll be more than happy to explain it to him."

"But—"

Sirius put a hand on Draco's shoulder and Draco looked at him.

"Trust him," he whispered, gesturing at James, who was now busying himself with the Daily Prophet. Remus looked over his shoulder at the Slytherin table, where Regulus was sitting with his team, looking regretful

"There's nothing they can do about this," he said, turning to James, "...is there?"

"I'll handle it," James said.

The boys said nothing.

They spent the evening hanging out in the common room, which Draco was more than fine with. It seemed to be packed that night, with Gryffindors exhausted from the week's stresses and excited for the weekend ahead. Hardly anybody seemed to be studying. Even Remus was sitting in a corner, reading some book that Draco doubted was assigned reading because he was smiling into it. Draco sat on the carpet and watched Peter play Wizard's Chess with Sirius until James pulled Sirius away for something seventh-year related. Peter wasted no time in hurrying after them to see what it was about. Meanwhile, Draco sat back on his favourite couch near the fireplace and let his eyes shut. He hadn't realized just how tired he really was until now. Everyone in the common room seemed so relaxed, it was making him even more sleepy. Then he remembered the note he'd been looking at earlier and pulled it out from his pocket. He squinted down at it under the candlelight, frowning.

Pointing to another world will never stop vice among us; shedding light over this world can alone help us.

He had no idea what meaning he was supposed to take from this—what Dumbledore meant when he said that Draco wasn't paying enough attention to the note as he was to the gift itself. How the hell did this quote even relate to that Deluminator? It was all so confusing, he could feel his headache coming back just from thinking about it.

And what on earth was Dumbledore thinking, teaching Draco fiendfyre of all things?! If he was going down this route, he might as well teach Draco how to properly perform the three unforgivable curses. It was like he didn't know Dumbledore at all at this point. Sure, he'd hardly known him back in his own timeline, and he'd definitely gotten to know this Dumbledore a lot better than that one. This Dumbledore was far more carefree and risk-taking than that one. Perhaps Dumbledore had gained all his caution and wisdom after the war, when Voldemort had met his temporary demise. Maybe that was what it took for him to realize what he was truly up against...

"You look tired," said Frank, taking a seat next to him, with Alice at his side.

Draco sat up quickly and smiled, putting the piece of paper away. "Yeah, kind of..."

"How are you?" Alice asked. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"I'm okay," said Draco, nodding along. "Just busy, you know..."

"How were your holidays?" Frank asked. "Didn't get a chance to talk to you earlier—it was way too cold out there."

"Yeah," laughed Draco. "Um, they were fine. You know, I just...spent time with Regulus and...met lots of relatives..."

"We saw the picture in the Daily Prophet from the Malfoy wedding," said Alice. "That must've been nice, meeting all those people..."

"It was okay," Draco shrugged. "Kinda overwhelming. There were so many people there."

"Yeah, I can imagine," said Frank. "Are you glad you went though?"

Draco looked up at him and Alice, smiling back at him like the two true friends he'd never thought he'd have.

"Yeah," he finally answered, smiling back. "Yeah, I am."

He started to say something else when his voice trailed off at the sight of Lily crawling through the portrait hole, looking tired and beat. She stood there, scanning the packed common room. Her eyes landed on Draco briefly and she offered a smile. He quickly glanced at James, who was busy with Sirius and a couple of other guys, and hadn't even noticed Lily's arrival. Then, Draco turned back to Frank and Alice and cleared his throat.

"You know what, guys, I'm gonna call it a night."

"You sure?" said Frank, looking surprised as Draco started to stand up and stretch.

"Yeah, I'm just really tired," Draco mumbled. "I'll see you guys later."

"See you later," Alice offered.

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and waved at Frank. Then, he shifted on about the common room, dodging laughing people and trying his best to disappear without anybody noticing. But it was when he'd reached the top of the stairs that he finally turned to see Lily, still standing in the same spot, watching him with hurt in her eyes.

Finally, in the safety of his dormitory, he sat on his bed and pulled the curtains over it. He shivered slightly from the cold, and a few seconds later decided to pull on another sweater over the one he was already wearing. Then he sighed deeply and lit his wand before pulling out the Tom Riddle notebook from inside his bedside table. He stopped to listen for a second before opening it and pulling out a quill and ink bottle.

It's Draco again. So I've been back at Hogwarts for about two weeks now and you still haven't answered any of my questions.

His letters disappeared into the notebook, just like they did every time, and just like every time, Draco stared, amazed at how well this mysterious magic worked. Then, that perfect handwriting appeared again.

All in good time. How have classes been?

Busy, Draco responded. I've barely had time to myself, let alone to do more research on that thing we talked about last time.

And how is your animagus transformation going, Draco?

I'm almost there I think, Draco wrote. It won't be long now, I'm sure. Just a couple more meditations perhaps and I'll finally be ready to perform it.

Draco waited several minutes after that last sentence disappeared. The notebook did this every time, as though it had its own mind and was able to think...as though it was deciding what to say next. It was strange. He'd never come across such confusing magic before, and was very intrigued by it.

I find it fairly admirable that you have chosen to challenge yourself with such an advanced form of magic and at such a young age too. Tom Riddle was passionately driven, very much like yourself, when he was at Hogwarts as well. But he never attempted anything like this. Not while he was with me, that is. I can't say much for life after Hogwarts, seeing as how he stopped writing in me shortly after graduating.

Draco thought about this for a minute, trying for the life of him to remember when he'd had the time to tell the notebook his age. He couldn't remember much of Grimmauld Place, now that he thought about it. It had been such a stressful time that now it seemed like so long ago, yet it had only been two weeks. Perhaps he was far more sleep deprived than he'd thought.

More importantly though, he was just aching to figure out how this notebook ended up at Malfoy Manor, but doubted that asking it would give him the answer. It was a book. It didn't know anything other than what was written inside it. Then, it occurred to him.

Had anyone ever written in you after Tom?

He didn't have to wait long before the word No appeared right at the center of the page. He was about to write his next question when more letters appeared on the notebook. He squinted down at them with his wand light pointed directly at the center.

Did you ever meet Tom?

Draco paused. Why was it asking him this?

Yeah, I have. But an adult version of him only. I never knew Tom as a young wizard.

The notebook quickly responded. I only ask because I am curious as to how much time has passed since Tom last wrote in me. If you say you know him as an adult, I reckon it has been years.

Draco bit down on his lip before responding, It is the year 1977 now.

He quickly calculated it in his head and assumed that over thirty years must've passed.

A long time, the notebook finally responded. And how did you come to obtain me then? Did Tom hand me to you personally?

I found you, Draco wrote. I was at a wedding and I wandered the house and found you in a pile of clutter that was gathering dust. It seemed like no one knew you existed. Or maybe somewhere along the way, Tom lost you.

Whose wedding?

This time, Draco hesitated. The conversation was steering in his direction again, as it always did. The notebook seemed to have a habit of asking him personal questions, whereas his only real interest was finding out more about what Voldemort had wanted with this diary. Or why he'd kept it at all...

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, he finally answered. Do you know them?

Names do not ring any bells, no. The only people Tom ever talked to me about were people he knew at Hogwarts. I am assuming then that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy never attended Hogwarts? Perhaps Tom became acquainted with them in his adult life, thus landing me in their household.

Draco thought for a minute.

I wouldn't know. They did attend, but years after. They only graduated a few years ago. I was wondering the same thing actually. I wanted to know how you ended up in their house.

I suppose it shall remain a mystery for both of us, were the last words the notebook wrote before the dormitory door opened and the marauders filed inside. Draco shut the notebook quickly and shoved it under his pillow. Then, Sirius pulled open his hangings.

"Hey what are you doing?" he asked, looking confused.

"Just sittin'," said Draco, who leaned back against his pillow to safeguard the notebook.

"We thought you'd be asleep by now," said Remus. "You looked so tired. You know, you could use the rest."

He moved to sit on his own bed and crossed his legs. James and Peter were on the window ledge and Sirius sat at the edge of Draco's bed.

"Yeah, I will," Draco promised. "You guys going to bed too?"

"Thought we would, but seeing as how you're up..." said Sirius, smirking at him before pulling out a deck of cards.

Draco hesitated, then nodded at him.

"Yesssss," said Sirius, hopping off the bed and moving to sit on the floor. The other boys joined him quickly and he began to deal them.

It was the perfect start to a long-awaited weekend. It had been such a tiring week, Draco could hardly believe he'd made it. And sitting here with his friends, playing cards late at night...he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Still though, that strange feeling from before was creeping over them now. And Draco wasn't the only one who felt it. Each of the boys could sense that something was off. Even as they played cards and laughed and cracked jokes and talked about how much fun Hogsmeade would be tomorrow, they could feel it...that strange cold wind that clouds over just before a really big storm hits.

It was just waiting to take over them.


Thanks for reading!