NEW A/N: This chapter has also been refurbished and hopefully cleansed of any plot holes, technical errors, etc. I wanted to mention that, in keeping with J.K. Rowling's canon, my fabulous beta XX and I have agreed that Ginny's name should be changed from Virginia to Ginevra. This fic is still pre-OOTP!!!, but her name is the same no matter which novel we're talking about, so we're correcting it. Also need to mention that there may be additional important plot added here, as well as a bunch of additional dialogue. Hope everyone enjoys!

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I am up to no good – er, I mean, we own nothing. Yeah…

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It was a sickening sensation – something like flying backwards unbelievably fast. Harry wasn't completely unfamiliar with it – he had experienced time travel via Time-Turner before – but the blurring rush of colors and indistinct shapes slipping past him was still disconcerting.

Suddenly, there was solid ground beneath him, and the room swam back into focus. He was lying in the darkness in a confused tangle of limbs on the floor in the uppermost level of the Astronomy Tower.

"Get off me, Potter!"

Harry blinked at the familiar female voice. He looked down as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, instinctively shoving his spectacles back into place. He was staring into a pair of heavily-lashed, purple eyes that burned furiously up at him in the moonlight. Blaise Zabini's lips twisted, and Harry gazed dumbly at her for a moment before hastily scrambling to his feet. He heard the Time-Turner, still dangling from his wrist, click sharply against the stone floor and he fumbled with it for a moment before getting it safely round him neck.

"Ow! You stood on my hand! Watch it, Weasley, you clumsy cow!"

Harry turned to see Ginny crawling indelicately off of Malfoy. Her haste was causing the foul-tempered Slytherin more harm than good.

"Hurry up! You're no bloody feather, you know – oof!" The blonde's complaint was cut off as Ginny gave him a tap in the ribs with her foot. She straightened, looking dizzy, and brushed herself off, giving Harry a weak smile.

"So - where are we?" Her hushed voice echoed slightly in the cold, round tower room.

"Don't you mean when are we?" Malfoy got to his feet at last, shaking dust from his dark green Quidditch robes. "Want to enlighten us, Potter?"

After casting a vigilant look around, Harry shrugged and tucked the Time-Turner under his Quidditch robes. "We've come forward in time – I hope – about twenty-three years."

Blaise's eyes went wide, and Ginny, already pale, went slightly green and swallowed hard.

"Tw-twenty years?" Harry could see the sixth year doing the math in her head.

Malfoy took a quick, distasteful step back as Ginny wavered slightly where she stood. "Don't you dare faint, you worthless bint! I'm not catching you."

Color rushed back into the redhead's cheeks. She pulled herself tall and turned to glower at him.

"Don't worry – I wouldn't touch you to scratch out your eyes, you over-groomed, smarmy-mouthed, dodgy-eyed little bugger!" Her small hands curled into claws at her sides as if she were thinking of doing it anyway.

Harry´s eyes widened and he saw Blaise´s eyebrows disappear into her fringe.

"Over-groomed? Dodgy-eyed? What kind of insults are those? Come on, Weasley, admit it. You craveme; especially my eyes," Malfoy drawled, leering at her.

Ginny took a deep, sharp breath, and Harry noticed her want clutched in her hand.

"We don't have time for this," he cut in impatiently. "There are more important things."

Malfoy glanced over, and gave him a smug look. "I know what you're about, Potter. This is because of that rubbish with those dead kids."

"Talk about them that way again and I'll snap your neck!" Harry snarled, already feeling a violent itch in his hands to do just that. "Who the hell do you think you are, Malfoy, acting like it's just some minor inconvenience to be pushed aside –"

"You sad bastard. You didn't even know them, and here you are, going off into that sanctimonious, exterminating angel – "

"What are you talking about? Who's dead?" Ginny asked, in white-faced alarm.

"I've got you this time, Potter," Malfoy told him, ignoring Ginny. His tone was laced with malice. "They're going nail your arse for this one. Not even that geriatric codger Dumbledore is going to be able to smooth it over. When we get back, they'll expel you from Hogwarts in minutes."

"If we get back," Harry heard Blaise Zabini mutter from behind him.

"There's nothing to keep us from getting back," Harry told her with forced calm over his shoulder. "True, I wasn't expecting the three of you, but things should still go to plan. We just need to warn the – the, er – kids, go back a few minutes early, warn Dumbledore, and catch the guy in the red robes before he makes it to the tower. It's as simple as that."

Malfoy gave a derisive snort. "Simple, right! How about we just call it Operation: Chance in Hell?"

"Nothing is simple about time travel, Potter," Blaise snapped. "Just the fact that we're standing here could be having a devastating impact on the past and the future. We could end up being killed. So you'd better fess up. Who the hell are these kids you're on about?" She stepped around Harry and frowned at him suspiciously. Her eyes were almost level with his. "Why won't you tell us what's going on?"

"Listen, I'm sorry, but nobody asked you to come along, did they?" Harry began, feeling the need to defend himself.

"Why bother asking, Blaise?" Malfoy snapped, cutting him off. His disdainful gaze moved to his housemate. "Potter is trying to save the bloody world again." He looked at Harry, and his upper lip curled as he regarded him in disgust. "And just how do you think we're going to go about warning them, Potter? Blaise is right. We could all end up getting killed – we can't let anyone see us. We could be mistaken for dark wizards – or worse. It's all a waste of time, if you ask me."

"No one did," Ginny pointed out coolly. Taking a deep breath, she went on. "Anyway, who would recognize us after twenty years? We'd all be in our forties – you know, old, gray. Wrinkled." Blaise and Malfoy made loud noises of protest. Ginny went on, ignoring them. "If no one knows who we are, we're in no trouble, right? No worries."

"On the contrary, I'm afraid you've all – shall we say – put your collective foot in it, Miss Weasley."

Harry's eyes darted to the entrance of the Astronomy Tower. Dread – and a vague sense of "I was only trying to help – god, this is unfair!" – clutched at the base of his spine when he saw who had spoken.

"I do not have to ask how you arrived here – and I find that I don't care very much when you've come from. It's the why that concerns me."

Professor Severus Snape stood in the doorway.

Snape of the distant future didn't look very much different from Snape of the past. The only difference Harry was able to make out was the slightest hint of white marring the dark hair at his temples. Everything else was the same – including the greasiness and the perpetual sneer hovering round his thin lips.

"Professor Snape – I know this looks bad, but it's really important that I speak to Professor Dumbledore immediately," Harry said quickly.

"I don't expect that you are here at Hogwarts, in the future, quite by accident, Mr. Potter," Snape commented darkly in return, taking a single, eerily silent step inside the tower room. His long black robes slithered familiarly along on the stones behind him.

"It's all Potter's doing, Professor –" Malfoy began, wasting no time in settling the blame on Harry's shoulders. Ginny glared at him.

"Save it, Draco. I have no doubt that you were dragged into this mess unwillingly. Be that as it may, you are still here, instead of in your present, where you belong."

"Please, sir, we have to talk to Dumbledore immediately!" Harry hesitated and then added, "It's a matter of life and death!"

A curious smirk twisted Snape's face. "You assume much, Potter. I'm afraid Albus Dumbledore is no longer headmaster of Hogwarts. He moved on many years ago."

"T-then who is the new headmaster?" Ginny asked shakily. She brightened a moment later, as though something has occurred to her. "Or headmistress. Is it Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course not, you ignorant creature," Snape snapped, his black eyes glinting in the moonlight. There was a short pause in which Harry felt his spirits take a distinct nosedive. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what Snape was about to tell them.

"Professor McGonagall is not the current head of this institution. Sorry to disappoint, Weasley." Harry noted that he didn't look sorry at all. On the contrary, his cruel mouth curved into an unpleasant smile.

"I am."

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDP

"You must think you've died and gone to heaven," Ginny muttered to Draco as they followed Professor Snape down the spiral steps of the tower.

Draco shot a condescending sneer at her over his shoulder. "Not really – you and Potter are still here. There's always something fouling up the mix."

"I really dislike you," the girl hissed in a whisper.

"You keep saying that – but what does your woman's intuition really tell you?" Draco found himself pausing on the stairs and twisting slightly to look at her. "Come on – you can tell me what you really think. You want me in the worst way, don't you? Wanting a snog, I imagine. Just say the word – I'll give it some thought."

She paused. Even standing two stairs above him she barely drew eye level. It didn't come as a surprise at all to see her turning her small nose up at him. "I'd rather fling myself off Gryffindor Tower," the redhead announced in a voice filled with absolute loathing.

"If you're trying to tell me that you aren't curious about what it'd be like to kiss me, you're lying. I can tell you're thinking about it just by looking at you," Draco confided, pushing his face forward until it was a hairsbreadth from hers.

Ginny moved back a bit, looking startled. "I – I am not!" She dropped her eyes and fumbled in her robe pocket for a moment, before removing a black elastic and busying herself by scraping her tumbled red curls back from her face into a loose ponytail. Her eyebrows lifted as she nervously twisted her hands. "Are you going to move?"

Amused by her discomfort, Draco lifted a hand and laid it deliberately on her shoulder. "Not until you admit that you're secretly carrying a torch for me," he told her, trying not to laugh at the appalled look on her face.

"Get your paw off me or – or so help me Malfoy, I swear I'll kick you where it hurts!"

"Whoa. Is this how you treat Potter?"

She stared at him blankly, as though unclear about what he meant. Then abruptly her eyes widened and her cheeked burned.

"Is snogging and – and stuff all you ever think about? There's nothing like that between Harry and me and there never will be! Five seconds, Mal-ferret, or I'm going to do something drastic!"

Draco frowned. He'd never really though about it before, the fact that Ginny and Potter might have had something between them. He had only mentioned it as a joke to get under her skin, but he found himself feeling slightly ill at the thought of them together. Well, the thought of Potter snogging was enough to make anyone retch.

"What's wrong? Did he decide he didn't care for mouthy redheads with freckles all over? Did he turn you out? Poor little Weasel."

Ginny threw him by responding with a sweet smile and then shocked him by grabbing a fistful of his robes and dragging him forward. She settled her lips against his briefly, then pushed him away so hard that the back of his head bounced off the unyielding stone wall.

"Fuck, Weasley!" Draco saw white dots explode before his eyes, and bent forward, suddenly feeling nauseous.

"You know, I really don't think so, but thanks for the offer." She passed by him down the stairs and he could just hear her smirking. "When we get back, I'll pass the word around that you're so eager to please. I know a couple of Hufflepuffs who'd be thrilled to meet you."

Draco hissed and glowered at her retreating form from beneath his brows as he gave the back of his skull a fierce rub. The little bint clearly had a death wish!

"Bloody…ill-tempered…shrew!" He fingered the lump growing beneath his scalp while his other hand made an impulsive grab for his wand. He could, with very little effort, envision himself descending the steps behind the smart-mouthed witch and gleefully hexing her into oblivion . . . or maybe just dragging her off and keeping her hidden somewhere until she admitted she wanted him to shag her senseless –

"Try to keep up, Mr. Malfoy," Snape's flat, dour tones echoed back up the stairs at him. Draco bit back a violently perplexed, very indignant snarl as he was forced to hurry in order to catch them up.

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

"Watch it, Potter – I don't want to have to burn these robes just because you touched them again," Blaise said as Harry inadvertently bumped her shoulder.

Harry frowned at her and watched her brush at her clothing as if he had sullied it in some way. The pretty young woman flipped her hair and walked past him.

Ginny fell into step beside him. "Sweet Merlin, she's a contrary little witch."

"Wouldn't you be if you had to walk around looking like you had dung under your nose all the time?" Harry forced himself to respond lightly. He watched Blaise's slender shoulder's tighten in reaction at the insult.

"This is awful," Ginny murmured in a subdued, resentful voice as they followed Snape through the strangely deserted halls. Clearly, Hogwarts students were either in class or in the Great Hall.

"You're telling me," Harry whispered back. "I bet Gryffindor hasn't won the House Cup in years because of that git."

"If Gryffindor hasn't won the House Cup, it's obviously because they're rubbish," Blaise pointed out with some scorn from just in front of them.

Harry stiffened as he heard Malfoy snort from the rear of the group at this. It was like being surrounded by a nest of vipers.

"Speak for yourself, Zabini," Ginny spat. Harry didn't appear to be the only one taken by surprise at this outburst. He glanced back and saw Blaise's expression momentarily twist in surprise. A moment later, however, she regained stable footing.

"I suggest you shut it, you ill-bred wretch – you nowhere near the same level of existence as I am," she retorted tightly.

"What was that, Zabini?" Ginny mockingly held a hand up to her ear. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you – your mustache is so distracting, you know."

"Me-ow," Malfoy murmured.

"I suggest you retract the claws, ladies," Snape said pointedly. "We've come to the end of our journey."

He had stopped before a statue, but it wasn't the massive stone gargoyle Harry was so used to seeing. In its place coiled a giant, winged serpent, which gave the appearance of trying to devour itself. Its fanged jaws were wrapped securely around a good portion of its scaly tail.

"That's a positively hideous snake," Ginny muttered, eyeing the statue distastefully, but with an unwilling sort of fascination to which Harry could relate.

"That's no snake, Weasley, it's a dragon. An Ourobus, to be precise," Malfoy informed her with a superior look. "It's said to spend an eternity feeding on itself."

"Why am I not surprised that you know so much about dragons, Draco?"

Harry grinned at Ginny as she rolled her eyes at the other boy. He could get used to the new, more brazen Ginevra Weasley.

Snape utterance of the password saved them from the blonde's no doubt caustic response.

"Hairy MacBoon."

"A Harry-what?" Ginny muttered.

Harry could only shrug. "I never would have guessed it."

Just as the statue slid aside, exposing the familiar moving set of spiral stairs, a loud, breathless voice sounded from down the corridor, followed by pounding footfalls.

"Oy, Professor Snape!"

Harry watched Snape very slowly, and in an extremely long-suffering manner, roll his eyes toward the ceiling.

"Professor, wait! Professor Vector sent me to give you a message!"

A tall, solid-looking redheaded boy in black school robes skidded to a stop behind them, and Harry turned completely around to get a better look at him.

The boy's red brows lifted above surprised blue eyes. "Hello there! Don't remember seeing you lot around Hogwarts before." He gave Blaise a particularly interested once-over before frowning. "Look awfully familiar, though. I'm Dorian. Dorian Weasley. New here, are you?"

"Weasley," began Snape in a warning tone.

Dorian suddenly did a double take. "Crikey Moses!" His eyes had fallen upon Harry. ¨I mean, Jesus god! Are you – I mean, no, you can´t be!¨

"Can't tell he's one of Weasley's sprogs, can you?" Malfoy sniggered from beside Harry as the redhead stared at them with what was unmistakably Ron's goggled-eyed expression.

"Uncle Draco?" The look of disbelief on the boys' face became even more pronounced, as his gaze swung over to the blond.

"Weasley!" Snape barked, his menacing glower entirely lost on the boy. "Ten points from Gryffindor, and if you don't cease your babbling this instant, you can take fifty!"

"Uncle-what?" Harry, still feeling confused, turned his head and glimpsed Malfoy looking bitterly offended.

"Uncle? Merlin´s pants, this can´t be happening!"

"Ian, there you are! I thought we were meeting in the –oh, hey, Dad. What're you doing . . . oh, my god!"

Snape had apparently abandoned his attempts at stopping the inevitable chaos. He was now leaning resignedly against the stone archway leading into the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited with uncharacteristic patience for impending pandemonium.

Harry gaped around hopelessly, feeling as if he had been turned arse over elbow. A replica of Draco Malfoy now stood at Dorian's shoulder. There was no mistaking him – it was Hayden Malfoy.

The pale gray eyes widened as they flickered over the baffled looking group, coming to rest finally on Ginny.

"Mum? Is that you? What's going on? What are all of you doing here? Sweet Merlin, you look – um –" He seemed quite at a loss as he stared at her.

Ginny's mouth dropped open in undisguised horror, and she regarded at the boy in blank astonishment.

Harry felt his heart give a sickening lurch as he watched Malfoy's face disappear in his hands. Ginny . . . and Malfoy?

The blond Slytherin lifted his eyes to glare at the vaulted ceiling.

"Mum?" Blaise breathed. "Her? You married her? Draco, how could you? I mean, honestly!" She looked less angry than revolted.

"Get stuffed, Zabini!" Ginny choked out, her hand strangling a fistful of her red curls. She looked distinctly sick; Harry could commiserate.

"May as well throw myself off your bloody tower, Weasley," Malfoy was growling at Ginny. He began pacing cagily, a black frown on his pale features. Pausing, he looked over at Ginny dispassionately, and then his lips twisted again. "Married," he snarled in disgust. "Married to her? Wait until my father hears about this!"

"Cor blimey," Dorian whispered to Hayden, who was himself looking both shocked and fascinated. "That's Tristy's mum? Bit of a dish, isn't she? I thought Dad said she was a beast." His eyes trailed over Blaise's curves appreciatively. It was unsettling to Harry in the extreme, seeing such a blatant expression on a face that so closely resembled Ron's. Could this be Ron's son? Surely it must be – he was too tall to belong to either of the twins and Harry was sure that any child belonging to Bill or Charlie would have graduated by now. And Percy – well, no child of his would have been eying Blaise in such a thoroughly indiscreet manner.

"That's Aunt Blaise?" Hayden was saying as his brows flew up. His pale gray eyes ran up and down the Slytherin girl's shape beneath her robes in an insulting manner.

"You're right, Ian," he continued in a very Malfoy way, "I thought she was supposed to be . . . well, big." He then glanced over at Dorian, who was still eying Blaise, and slapped the back of his friend's head. "God, man, that's somebody's mum you're eating with your eyes. Exercise some self-control."

Malfoy surfaced out of his own misery long enough to snicker mockingly. "Big? Told you to lay off those pumpkin pasties, Zabini."

Harry looked up, reluctantly meeting Blaise's cold, narrowed purple eyes and feeling reality crashing down around his ears. Was it true? She was his daughter's mum? Blaise Zabini? A Slytherin?

He had married Blaise Zabini?

The shocked silence didn't last for long. Dorian Weasley, obviously unused to quiet of any sort, cleared his throat, and jabbed his 'uncle' in the ribs companionably with his elbow.

"Wow, Uncle Harry, she's a posh bird – you lucky bugger. Looks a bit high maintenance, if you ask me, though. Probably cost you a bomb, getting rid of her."

Vaguely aware his jaw was brushing his chest, Harry snapped his mouth closed and reflexively pushed his glasses up with a shaky hand.

"You just had to stick your nose in it, didn't you, Potter?" Malfoy spat at him scathingly. "Couldn't leave it alone, could you? Someone back me up here – wouldn't we all be much, much happier if bloody Potter hadn't tried to be the hero again?"

"Sod off, Malfoy!" Ginny retorted right back. "It's not his fault!"

"Oh, lump it, Weasley! You have no idea what the hell you're talking about!"

Blaise stuck her nose up and stomped off past Snape, who made no move to stop her. Her long dark hair slapped Harry's shoulder as she stormed away down the corridor. He watched after her helplessly, a huge knot of depression lodging in his throat. This was what he had to look forward to – Blaise Zabini, drama queen and all around nasty Slytherin – for the rest of his life.

The whole notion that they would one day be married and have a child together seemed just absolutely incredible. Not to say she wasn't, er - attractive – but she was such a cold, heartless, stuck-up snob . . . he couldn't recall having exchanged more than a few words with her in the past.

"She can throw one hell of a wobbly, can't she?" Dorian mumbled, sounding exactly like Ron and convincing Harry that this was indeed his best friend's son. "Why is it always those bleeding Slytherin birds who pitch such a bitch fit?"

"Is that loo still around the corner?" Ginny suddenly asked weakly, her eyes hollow.

"Yeah," said Dorian, eager to be helpful. "You okay? You're looking dead beat."

"What's wrong, er - Mum?" Hayden took a concerned step forward around his friend. "Are you all right?"

Harry shook his head. A Malfoy asking after a Weasley – it just kept getting weirder.

Ginny made a disturbing gurgling noise in her throat and backed away from him. "Er . . . heh . . . I'm fine, really. I - I think I . . . just have to go be sick now."

Malfoy stepped up next to Harry as the distressed redhead turned away and tore off down the corridor.

"Good thing she pulled her hair back," he commented lazily, stuffing his hands in his robe pockets.

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDP

"Are you feeling quite all right now, Miss Weasley?" Snape demanded impatiently.

Harry watched Ginny drop into her chair before the headmaster's desk and give a weak nod, though he didn't think she really was. She was so pale her freckles stood out on her cheeks, and she looked as if she were torn between wanting to yell and wanting to cry. He couldn't blame her.

"I knew something weird was going on," Dorian was saying self-importantly. "The minute Vector told me to –"

"She knew the wards around the school had been disturbed, by us arriving," Harry said, glancing at Snape. "But you'd already realized, hadn't you, Professor? That's why you were in the tower – ¨

"Come up with that all by yourself, did you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered from his seat.

His temper flaring, Harry made as if to stand, but Snape's voice stopped him.

"Children," he drawled, with emphasis."I recommend that you restrain yourselves, unless you'd like me to take points from both your houses?"

Harry set his jaw and slowly sat back, but allowed his wand to slip down into his hand from his sleeve.

Malfoy only smirked at the implied threat, settling back into his chair, and carelessly crossing his arms.

"Sorry, Professor," Hayden spoke up, "but what exactly is going on? Are these – kids, really our parents?"

"Who are you calling a 'kid'?" Malfoy said reproachfully, eying his son in disgust. "We're the same age, right? Obviously you got your mother's brains."

Harry could see Ginny looking around for something to throw at him.

"Don't you talk about my mother," Hayden shot back nastily in the same tone, sitting forward in his chair. "You can't be my father – my father would maim anyone who dared say anything against my mum."

Suddenly Harry could hear Ron's horrified voice in his head, as if he were standing near and observing the happenings with dread. "Blimey, Harry, there's two of them? The world is coming to an end, I'm telling ya'!"

He was really starting to worry that that was the case, too. He couldn't see much of a difference between the two Malfoys at all, except that Hayden was wearing black school robes and Draco was still in full Quidditch regalia.

"You'll show some bloody respect, brat, or I'll hex your tongue into knots!" the latter retorted coldly, straightening up slowly in his chair, his eyes turning icy.

"Yeah, that's your dad all right," Dorian coughed into his hand at Hayden's side.

"Potter – why don't you tell me exactly what's been going on?" Snape's dark eyes swept around the room, demanding silence, and daring any of them to speak out of turn again.

Harry took a deep breath. "Well, you see . . . "

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPPDDPDP

The first thing out of anyone's mouth was, "Obviously, we can't tell Tristan."

Harry looked over Hayden in surprise. "Why not? It's her life that's in danger."

"What, you think she could handle something like that?" the boy sneered. "She'd probably start crying and demand to see her daddy. Convenient, actually," he added, with a glance at Harry.

"Oh, be fair, Den," Dorian said, nudging his friend. "She's wicked nasty when she's scared. You'd know that better than anyone."

"Come off it!" Hayden said sharply, looking far from amused. "She's pathetic. I can see it now: 'Oh, daddy, it's dreadful! Someone's trying to kill me and Hayden. I'm so scared.'" His eyes darkened. "Or she'd use it as an excuse to throw herself at my dad. 'Oh, Uncle Draco, it's dreadful! Won't you hold me?'"

Malfoy glanced at his son, looking utterly repulsed.

"Potter, if we ever meet your daughter, you'd best be sure she keeps her hands off me," he said darkly.

"No fear," Harry retorted. "No daughter of mine is coming within miles of you."

"Don't bet on it," Hayden cut in. "My dad's her godfather and she's infatuated with him."

Harry felt sick and was sure he looked it.

"You sound jealous, kid," Blaise spoke up mockingly. "What, is your daddy getting all the action?"

"Hardly," Hayden said loftily. "I'm younger and twice as good-looking."

"Oh, I dunno, Den," Dorian said thoughtfully. "I mean, if Tris really is obsessed with Uncle Draco, odds are you'll do for her in the end."

"Like I'd let that happen," Hayden muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Sweet Merlin, have you shagged Potter's daughter?" Malfoy demanded of his son in disbelief. He dropped the book he had been uninterestedly pawing through and it hit the floor with a thud.

Harry winced and was sure he looked as disgusted as the idea made him feel.

Dorian, however, released a strangled snort of mirth.

Hayden glared at his father, a slight tinge of red rising high up on his sharp cheekbones. "No! Not that it's any business of yours. We're . . . acquaintances."

"More like sworn enemies," Dorian observed in a voice choked with laughter. "Don't worry about those two – they can't stand each other."

Ginny's eyes shot up to meet Draco's before she dropped her head. "Apparently that doesn't mean anything," she mumbled, red-cheeked.

"As much as I'd prefer not to involve any more than half the school that already seems to know," Snape cut in with biting sarcasm, "I believe it would be best to give Miss Potter fair warning." He stood up, his expression rather pinched. "I'll go and extract her from the Great Hall. The rest of you will kindly wait here - non-violently - until I return." He disappeared out the door with a last warning look.

"She's probably still down there smirking about thrashing Ravenclaw this morning," Hayden muttered offhandedly.

"Rubbing Starla Parkinson's konk in it," Dorian agreed with a faint smile. "And who can blame her? That girl's a twit."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked curiously, feeling an odd gnawing in his stomach at thought of meeting his daughter.

"I forgot, you wouldn't know, would you, Uncle Harry?" Hayden arched a brow. "Tristan is the Slytherin Seeker."

Harry's shock was accentuated by Malfoy's mean chuckle. He had known, of course, that his daughter was in Slytherin, but . . . the phrase "fraternizing with the enemy" popped into his head, courtesy of a jealous, fourth-year Ron.

"The irony is delightfully sickening, isn't it, Potter?"

"Sure is, seeing as I'm Gryffindor Seeker and all," Hayden said flatly.

It was Harry's turn to laugh at the stunned look on the blond's face.

"How can the two of you laugh about this?" Ginny was sitting in her chair with her hands over her own face.

"Poor Weasley – disappointed Potty didn't marry you instead?" Draco jeered. "I bet it's just breaking your tender little heart, isn't it?"

Harry stood up, fisting his hands. "Malfoy, you arse! Think about the kids."

"Who cares what he says, Uncle?" Hayden said coldly. "He's being a prick – he's not my dad."

Draco narrowed his eyes on Ginny. "You know, you're probably right."

Harry had his wand out in a second, but Hayden beat him. The tall blond Gryffindor stood above Draco rubbing his knuckles, staring down at the boy who was now out cold on the floor.

"Draco!" Blaise didn't move from her seat, but glared balefully at Hayden. "How dare you? He didn't deserve that! What are you, some kind of barbarian? Wizards don't use their fists!"

"Right, but it hurts more this way," Dorian said with a grin.

Rolling his eyes, Harry shook his head and put away his wand. "He deserved that.¨

"I don't understand this," Hayden said, sounding bewildered, and wincing at his skinned knuckles. "I always knew you two had had some kind of rivalry at school, but you're friends now, Uncle Harry. Close friends. And this - he never acts anything like this with us. He's never so…well, bloody awful."

"I suppose that's a comfort," Ginny sniffled, and Harry looked up to see her red eyed and crying.

"Mum – Mum, don't cry," Hayden said hastily, kneeling by her chair. "I'll make everything all right, you'll see."

Ginny blinked at him, and then threw her arms around his neck with a broken sob. "I'm having a nightmare!"

"It's okay, Mum," Hayden patted her back awkwardly, exchanging a helpless glance with Harry. "It's all okay."

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDP

Draco still hadn't come around by the time Snape returned with Tristan, who looked exactly the same as Harry remembered – only alive, of course. She caught sight of Harry then and her bright green eyes widened. A hand went to her mouth as she gazed around at Harry, Blaise, Draco, and Ginny.

"Daddy?" She ventured at last, her eyes returning to Harry. "Oh – oh, my god!"

"See?" Hayden snorted from his place by Ginny. "Told you she'd go into shock."

Tristan's eyes narrowed as they rested on him with a look of pure loathing that Harry knew quite well, having worn an almost identical look himself many times in the past when dealing with Hayden's father.

"Sod off, Malfoy," she said, her shock cooling into precise Slytherin arrogance in an instant. "The day I go into shock over anything is the day you win a Quidditch match against me." She smirked. "Although I could probably beat you half blind with one arm." She glanced at Dorian. "You lot up in Gryffindor really ought to consider replacing him, you know. You might actually have a chance then."

Harry found himself exchanging bemused glances with Blaise, which was not normal. He couldn't help it. It was almost like watching a fight between Harry and Malfoy, but with the houses reversed.

Hayden's expression darkened.

Snape cleared his throat pointedly, clearly deciding not to let things get any more out of hand. His thin mouth curled into an unpleasant smile. "If you two are quite done, I believe your safety must be seen to. I have alerted your parents. If you are each safe in your homes, until the danger passes, and not in the castle, where the unfortunate incident is to take place, it stands to reason you'll come to no harm."

"Home? But, sir – " Tristan stared resentfully at her Head of House. "My classes – and what about the last match of the season? Sir, you know we'll be flying circles round Gryffindor! I've been training all year for this!"

"We'll arrange something for your classes," Snape drawled. "And stop fussing about Quidditch. You're worse than your uncle, and that's saying something. As for more – important concerns – from what Potter tells me, the danger to you and Mr. Malfoy should have passed well before the end of school, in time for you to take your N.E.W.T.s. Now, I suggest you the two of you go to your dorms and pack. Your parents should be along shortly to collect you."

"I'm going, too!" Dorian announced determinedly. "Hayden's my best friend, and I go where he goes!"

"Oh, that's nice, Ian," Tristan said, her icy demeanor dropping just long enough to allow a small smile and nudge at Dorian.

"Don't worry, Tris," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "There's plenty of me to go around."

She stepped quickly away from him.

"I was afraid you'd say that," she said, eying him warily.

Dorian grinned and returned his attention to Snape.

"So, sir," he said. "Am I going?"

Beetle black eyes glittered at him for a long moment before Snape gave a short nod.

"You may go and owl your parents about it – that's all I've to say on the matter." His gaze swung to rest on Harry and the others. "As for the rest of you – I'm arranging for you to go directly back to your own time."

"But we can't just go back!" Ginny said. She had stopped crying, but still looked very upset. "We have to make sure they're going to be all right!"

"She's right, Professor – we have to stay and see if we can capture the killer!" Harry seconded, glad he had one person at least on his side.

"If you don't want to get into any more trouble than you are already in – and I assure you, you are in a very, very great deal already – I suggest you cooperate with me before I'm forced to have you arrested!"

"You can't arrest Dad for trying to protect us!" Tristan snapped. "In case you don't recall, Hayden and I were murdered right after we apparently got hold of a Time-Turner right under your nose!"

Just as it seemed that Snape was about to explode, the door to the office creaked open, and a group of hooded, dark-robed figures came hurrying in. Harry was raising his wand reflexively when he found himself staring down one.

He heard Ginny gasp as another wand was pointed directly at her.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Harry blinked as he heard a slightly gruffer version of his own voice erupt from within the dark hood.

"Merlin, Harry, isn't it obvious? He's you," came a familiar voice from nearby. Harry craned his neck and saw one of the figures drop his hood. His jaw dropped as he caught sight of who it was.

"Ron?"

Ron – or at least an older version of him – grinned back, running a hand through slightly thinning red hair. It was Ron Weasley, all right – down to the last freckle.

"Hey, Harry." He waved.

"Bloody hell," Draco moaned from the floor. He was slowly coming to.

"What happened to him?" came an amused drawl from the figure standing near Hayden.

"I hit him," Hayden answered promptly.

"Hmm."

Harry was distracted from the figure's answer as the man before him dropped his own hood, though he kept his wand cautiously trained on him.

Suddenly he was looking into his own face, as if he were staring into a mirror. However, his reflection was slightly aged and there were dark shadows beneath green eyes that held a fierceness that he had never seen in them before. There was also a hint of beard stubble about his chin. The scar on his forehead was a bit faded, but still clearly visible through the untidy fringe of black hair that fell across it.

The future version of himself smiled slightly, but the tone of his voice when he spoke was menacing.

"What the hell have you done?"

PBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPBPPBPBPPBPBPBPB

Draco felt a shooting pain streak along his jaw as he cursed, and slowly opened his eyes.

He thought for a second that Hayden was staring back at him, but no, it was – "Father?"

The low, silky laugh he heard made him frown – no, that definitely wasn't his father – and he sat up, tentatively feeling his jaw. At least the bloody thing wasn't broken.

"Do I really look that bad?" The older, long-haired blond stood watching him patiently, as if waiting for something.

Draco scowled. "What are you staring at, old man?" he sneered, even though it hurt like a bitch.

The man gave his head a slight shake, and his silver eyes became frosty. "I can see why you hit him." His black-gloved hand fisted as if he wouldn't mind landing Draco one himself.

"This is very odd." The figure standing before Ginny Weasley lowered its wand and pushed off its hood –

To reveal the most breathtaking woman Draco had ever seen in his entire life. She looked at him with wide, gentle brown eyes, and smiled with generous, soft pink lips. Her long, dark red curls gleamed in the candlelight as she straightened up.

"Malfoy, that's you?" Ginny Weasley hissed in awed disbelief from her chair.

Draco found he didn't very much care what was going on outside of those deep, brandy-brown eyes.

The woman laughed, and the sound tinkled soothingly along his nerves. "Don't give him a bigger head than he's got already, dear," she told Ginny with a wink.

Draco stared at the red-haired goddess until he felt strong fingers encased in black leather grip his chin and yank his head away. The older man with long, white-blond hair was kneeling before him and smirking – and he finally realized with a jolt exactly who it was he was looking at.

"I'll thank you to stop salivating over my wife," the man said. "She's not yours…yet."

The long haired blond was him.

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TBC