Harry Potter and the Unwanted Second Chance
Disclaimer : I own nothing but the plot.
Chapter 1: Thank You's and Goodbyes
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The feeling of not belonging has never been foreign to Harry. The uncomfortable sensation of being out of place has alway been there. Now older, he is well able to brush off the unwanted feelings.
The feelings are hard to push down right now though, sitting among friends for whom he's known for almost eight years.
The Three Broomsticks is quiet today. It's the first week of June and there are no students bustling around. Ron and Hermione are talking about a muggle contraption, Hermione trying to explain the finer details. All the while Neville, Luna and Ginny look over the first issue of the Quibbler to be released since the battle.
The battle.
Harry believes the battle to be the root of many of his feelings. He hasn't felt right since that night, since that morning that all his problems should of ended. If anything Harry feels weighed down so much more than he had in the months following up to the battle.
Guilt.
He knows this is the strongest of the feelings. Hell, he'd even say it is the root of his feelings.
So many people died day; students, teachers, family…..him.
The worst part was that they believed in him. They had to. They had to have something to hold onto, to be a beacon of hope.
That's what the Boy Who Lived has stood for, for the last 16 years. Hope.
But Harry isn't the Boy Who Lived nor the Chosen the One. He isn't James and he isn't Lily.
He's Harry. Just Harry.
He shouldn't be thinking of all this now. He's suppose to be enjoying the night with friends.
Breaking himself out of his sense of melancholy, Harry looks at his friends, his family and smiles. He downs the rest of his firewhiskey and places it upside down on the worn tavern table.
He looks up and is almost startled to see Draco Malfoy staring back at him.
'Why would Malfoy be here?' Harry wonders.
A minute goes by before Malfoy breaks eye contact. He carefully stands up from his table and makes his way outside.
"Harry?" Hermione questions.
Harry comes to realize that the others have gone quiet, their attention on him. Unwanted attention.
He stands up, to fast for him to play it right but Harry doesn't care.
"I think I've drank too much. I'm going to get some air." Harry hurriedly says as he to makes his way outside.
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It doesn't take Harry long to find Malfoy, the blonde man did very little to conceal who he is. Then again there seemed to be very few in Hogsmeade tonight.
Malfoy leans against the wall of the backside of the tavern eyeing Harry as he walks to meet him.
"Potter." Malfoy greets first.
Harry doesn't have the energy for niceties and cuts to the chase.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
Draco doesn't say anything at first, staring beyond Potter at nothing in particular. He went through all this trouble to come here and yet now, he feels it may not have been the best course of action. What was he doing here?
"Thank you" He says pushing his anxiety aside.
Potter gives him an incredulous look as if he didn't believe that he'd just said it. Draco is having a hard time believing he just did as well. Potter regains his composure quickly and glances away for a moment before looking back at Draco.
"For what?" Harry asks with as much bravado he can muster in his state.
Malfoy seems to become more agitated by the question and shifts.
"You saved my life, I'm just here to give thanks for that."
Harry nods and rubs his face.
This was not how Harry thought this night would go. He wanted to get plastered, wallow in self pity, and then sleep the next day away. He didn't want to be standing here with Malfoy dredging up memories of one of the worst days of his life.
But, Malfoy sounds sincere and Harry doesn't have it in him to start an argument. Try to get him to leave. Humor him.
"Your welcome. Your mum saved me so I suppose we're even."
Draco's eyes go big at this bit of information. His mother saved Harry Potter? When? Draco doesn't know what to say to this and is glad when Potter speaks again.
"We're good, not friends obviously, but we're good."
Draco sighs and holds out his hand.
Harry studies it, for a moment he questions Malfoy's gesture but takes his hand anyway.
The jolted vertigo, like violently apparating blurs their vision. Harry's name is muffled by this unknown force and soon they both know nothing else.
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Draco stirs first and gingerly takes in his surroundings. Potter, seemingly unconscious is only a couple feet away.
They are alone and the sky still dark. The night feels colder than before causing Draco to shiver, and not from the chill. He was sure that he had heard others call to Potter. Yet they remain alone.
Potter shifts where he lays and soon green eyes meet grey.
"What hit us?" Harry questions, disorientated.
"I have no idea, there's no one here." Draco responds honestly.
Harry gives Draco a look of disbelief but squashes it as he too climbs to his feet. He wonders if Malfoy feels the same eeriness that he does. He rubs his forehead, trying to take in the situation. He is overwhelmed by an urgent need not to be standing here any longer.
"We should go inside and see if the others felt anything." Harry suggests.
Despite not wanting to follow Potter anywhere, Draco too wanted not to be in this spot for a second longer.
They shuffle inside and the feeling of something not being right hits both of them stronger than before.
The tavern is undoubtedly The Three Broomsticks but it definitely wasn't the one they were in before. The decor looks dated and there are different people than before.
Harry looks at the table that he and his friends were sitting and there is their place are two elderly wizards chatting while nursing glasses of firewhiskey.
Harry looks towards Malfoy to see if he see it too.
Draco had noticed the table but his attention is now fixed on an old looking Daily Prophet, the title boldly standing out as the wizard switches pages.
Voldemort Strikes Again
Draco thinks of how absurd it is. You Know Who is dead. He is standing only a few feet away from the person who killed him.
Without thinking he grabs the paper earning him an angry wizard.
"You can't just grab things like that" Harry exclaims positioning himself beside Malfoy.
Malfoy doesn't seem to have registered what Harry had said, his eyes glued to the paper in his hands.
Harry glances down and it's as if the world stops.
For he hadn't just felt an eeriness, he felt pain. A pain he hadn't felt in just over a month.
Pain in his scar.
Harry realizes he isn't breathing and takes a shaky breath.
This would explain the pain, the wrongness he feels. He knows it's true and the look on Malfoy's face, he knows he believes it too.
The paper is new. It's not worn and the pages are that of off white, not a yellow you'd see with age.
No, it's a fresh copy. Probably printed that very morning.
Malfoy is white knuckling the paper as if it is the only thing keeping him grounded. Harry probably would be too. But Harry didn't feel grounded he felt as if the world was ending and maybe it was.
For the paper is dated June 5th, 1976.
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AN: There you go! First official chapter. Hope your ready for a bumpy ride for this is going to be a timey wimey roller coaster.