June 30th, 1997
Hogwarts
A powerful wizard, He Who Must Not Be Named, predetermined the life of a young Malfoy. Yes, it was a name that even Draco himself did not mention out loud. Like many other wizards in England, he feared the sound of the name. It stroke the hearts of those who mentioned it, like lightning.
The seventeen-year-old boy's life destroyed from birth. He sat on the stairs of the astronomy tower, contemplating how much his life had changed. The Dark Lord awaited a report soon, but he had failed him. He couldn't do it. He was anxious and constant fear stalked him; it was disgusting. His hands couldn't stop shivering. He remembered how Dumbledore fell from this very spot minutes ago, and he closed his mouth with his hand. It revolted his stomach.
Draco wished things had never ended up the way they did. He was such a coward, and every part of his body knew it. Draco didn't go back to the manor with the Death Eaters. He stood behind on the tower. He only hoped that maybe, if he had followed his own path instead of the one his father send him on, things would have turned out differently. Potter must have caught up with them by now. He heard the battle downstairs, probably from the faculty.
What the Dark Lord asked of him was insane and impossible. It was clearly a trap; He Who Must Not Be Named wanted him dead. But he also wanted Dumbledore dead. Dead by his own hands. It was a trap. Otherwise, the Dark Lord would have killed him himself. Did he fear Dumbledore after all? Draco questioned himself. In the end, Severus did the deed. The Dark Lord was going to kill him. The family's money was draining slowly because of him. He didn't know how to communicate politically with his father's colleagues, let alone ask them for the debts they owed to the family. He needed a plan, and fast.
Draco's hands trembled. His father was the one who always handled everything in the family. Unfortunately, Lucius was too afraid to even think of betraying the Dark Lord, and his mother was practically no-one in this world. He couldn't count on them. The Dark Lord tasked Draco with Dumbledore's death, knowing that he was likely to fail.
"They're going to kill me, probably." He said pulling his hair, and thinking about his mother who would probably end up dying trying to protect him or something.
It all depended on him now, and he was trembling to the knees even though he was sitting on the stairs of the astronomy tower. He had not eaten in days. His mental state was unbalanced and his body without energy. Who could have eaten knowing of what was to happen?
Draco breathed deeply. There must be a way, he kept telling himself. Success or escape. Failure was not an option. He couldn't breathe, it was like the air escaped his lungs. He shook his head.
"No." he said.
There was no time to think about failure. Time was running out. He had to do it tonight. He had to return before anyone became suspicious. There cannot be any distractions. He had to remain calm.
"Everything is going to be fine," he said.
He tried to calm himself. His life depended on it, after all.
"No. I can't do it. I can't do it." He shivered.
What was he supposed to do now?
He could tell Severus the truth and ask him to protect them? No. He failed to save Potter's family. He probably wouldn't even try to save the Malfoy's over his own skin. If he die it was likely that his family would die as well.
"What do I do?" he whispered.
He stood up, and disapparated with a thundering sound, and within seconds he apparated at the Malfoy Manor. He couldn't stop walking and was filling anxious. This was his home, but the Dark Lord had been using it for his deeds. If only there was a way to stop all of it. If that stupid Potter hadn't won the Triwizard Tournament, the Dark Lord wouldn't have return to power once more. That's it! The solution. He thought. Lucius, his father, had a Time-Turner. He saw it once somewhere in his father's office. If the Dark Lord ever raised a finger against his family, he would return in time and kill him before he could go to Hogwarts. But there were risks with his Time-Turner, risks worse than death.
He stepped back. The Death Eaters were coming through the hallways of the mansion. He hid behind a door and when they move on; he continued to his father's office. That's when he almost had a heart attack. Draco became paralyzed, unable to move. He could not have even utter a cry or a breath.
"Oh, Draco, what a disappointment you have become." The immediate words of Voldemort resonated his ears. Yes. He thought of his name for the first time, in his head at least. Draco knew he was going to die, Voldemort had discovered his father's time-turner. He was holding it in his left hand.
Involuntarily, tears fell from his left eye. He didn't know what to answer. There were no excuses to save him this time.
"My Lord ... I ..." was the only thing Draco could say, but was quickly interrupted and Voldemort gave him a serious face of disgust.
"Why don't you explain what you were going to do, Draco?" He said, raising his empty hand pointing to someone or something behind the young Malfoy. He should never have turned around. His mother and father stood in front of him. The Death Eaters had their wands pointed at their throats.
"Draco," his father said to him with a calm voice.
"Now, Draco, come. Take it."
He turned to look at the Dark Lord. To his surprise, he stretched out his hand with the time-turner. Draco didn't stop to think if it was a test of loyalty. Draco doubted he cared much for that. After all, he always killed his henchmen without hesitation. He couldn't move forward to take it. The fear of death hugged him and shortly, Draco had the time-turner in his hands. Voldemort had forced it on him. He didn't know what to do. His hands trembled and nobody said anything. So he broke the silent in the room.
"What do you want from me?" Draco said.
There he lay, on the ground now. The Dark Lord had slapped his face too fast that he did not see what had happened.
"Don't play with me boy, you know well what I want."
Draco watched from the ground as his father furiously glared at him, probably because of his stupid action.
"I'm sorry ..." he said, without thinking about his pride. This life tired Draco and he wanted to rest. But not everything will go as planned.
He was hit by the Cruciatus curse. The pain was intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he lay... white-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain; he was screaming more loudly than he ever screamed in his entire life.
"Stop it. Please, my Lord. I beg of you."
He heard his mother begging for his miserable life, and saw that his father only closed his eyes, and reacted to all of his cries like lashes on his back.
Voldemort laughed in return.
"Do it, Draco." She snapped, and Draco realized what she meant. She wanted him to use it, but he couldn't leave them here. Not like this. Not with him.
"Yes, do it. Do it, Draco." Voldemort said, mocking his mother, "Do it, and leave your parents alone here with me. I will ensure they suffer a slow tormented death." He kicked the boy in the back.
"You bastard! Leave him alone!" Narcissa cried. In a whined the pain had stopped. Draco tried to stand, but Voldemort kicked him in the ribs. "Dear, Narcissa. Maybe you would like to take his place?" He could hear his snakelike-voice in the room. But he couldn't see where he was standing. He tried to hold the pain, and looked up, to see him holding his mother by the chin.
"Yes," she replied, sharing a tear.
"Don't-" a Death Eater kicked him in the mouth, spatting the floor with blood. Draco turned the time-turner without a place in mind. Just in case.
"Draco, the funny thing about Time-Turner's is that you can't really change history. Only create a new one. Such silly cheats." Voldemort piercing eyes gazed at him with his wand on target. "Are you willing to run away, and abandon your family?"
"Draco, drop the time-turner and obey him. Our Lord is very merciful and I am sure he will give you a second chance," the words of his foolish father came. It disgusted Draco to hear his father bark like a dog, a broken man.
"Is that so." Voldemort walked up to him. "I can see you trembling, Lucius."
"Surely, my Lord. You are testing the boy's loyalty. Otherwise, you would have killed him by now." His father smiled briefly. What was he thinking? Lucius was protecting his only son, surely his only heir. But Why? Why now? Draco thought deeply.
Voldemort looked at Lucius from bottom to top, and in a few seconds the killing curse hit his father. The curse sent his body flying across the room with the Death Eater that held him, and Narcissa burst into tears.
"Don't tell me what to do."
Draco closed his eyes. Never thinking he would have cried for his father. But hesitated before using the time-turner. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do this to his mother. "Forgive me, my lord ..." Draco bubbled on his spit. "... My father's action have open my eyes to the truth." He rose and walked to his side and knelt.
"You learn quickly. I like that. Now do as you are told. Kill Narcissa, kill your mother for me." He was giving him another chance because he knew he couldn't succeed. It was a mission doomed to fail, from the start. He couldn't kill his mother, he loved her.
"Prove your loyalty to me, boy."
He rose his head and looked at Voldemort, who had a big grin on his face. The other two Death Eaters in the room stared at him with their hands trembling. They were probably afraid that Voldemort lashed out at them.
He walked to his mother's side and held her by the arm to help her out of the room.
"I'll do it outside." He said.
They were almost at the door when the killing curse flew across the room once more. His mother fell to her knees and slammed on the floor, lifeless.
"Mum!" Draco screamed on his knees so hard that he could not speak, and his throat burned him.
"Did you learn your lesson?" The Dark Lord said in a calmed voice, and Draco knew it was his turned now.
He was going to kill him. He continued to repeat his goal in what remains of his pathetic life in his head.
"Go on, Draco. Do it." He continued to taunt him about using the time-turner. But why? The Dark Lord smiled again.
Draco couldn't stand it anymore. So he did it. He activated the time-turner and put it into motion. He escaped reality, his reality called hell, without knowing what lay ahead of him.
"I'll kill you. Even if it's the last thing I do."
...
Everything around Draco span at the speed of light. In a moment, so many events occurred in the room that he couldn't keep up. He wasn't sure if the memories would ever stop spinning around him. He still couldn't speak, and felt burns through his throat. The room was shaking, and his body felt a little odd. He went sideways before catching his breath on the floor.
He vomited.
Draco's vision blurred, but he was glad there was no one in the room when the time-turner stopped.
Whatever was going to happen next wasn't anything good. What was he going to do? Or even say to his parents? The time-turner burned in his hand, and he dropped it. The floor burned, and the time-turner vanished into ashes in the room below. Destroyed.
There were no more chances. This was his only one-way trip, and he would not let his parents die this time. Fighting against dizziness, he rose and headed upstairs to his room. He didn't encounter any of the house-elves on his way up, which was a relief. His balance was still a bit off.
There were no signs of Death Eaters or Voldemort in his house. And either the Manor was bigger or he was still dizzy from traveling back in time. His height or sense of perception were bollocks. Where was he now? Time-Turner did not change the age of the user, and surely another version of him would be here somewhere. Where in the hell did he landed.
Draco when upstairs and tried the knob to his room, but the door was closed. He used a nonverbal Alohomora on the door. Great mistake. The Ministry will detect the spell and come to investigate soon. Anyway, he had little time to waste.
He opened the door slowly, only to realize that his hands were smaller. Oh no, he thought. "What in the bloody-hell is this!?" Looking down, he saw he was in a body of a kid. He could not believe what he saw. He almost screamed from the reaction. How was he supposed to take revenge on a body like this?
"What the hell!?" He shot the door quickly and lay his back on it, panting.
He headed to the mirror in his room; it was still there, unfortunately for him. His hair was still short, combed backwards, he wasted no time to mess his hair up.
"Oh, Merlin. What in the bloody hell happened to me?"
He was about to cry from his parent's death. Wait. His thoughts were a mumble-jumbo. His whole body had changed to that of a kid. He needed to get out of this nightmare. His heartbeat had risen. Even if he wanted to go back to the future, he couldn't.
He opened the door to get out. But then he couldn't get out. Draco was standing in front of his father. His father was alive! He screamed in his head. A tear fallen down his left eye. This was getting out of place, and his mind couldn't take it. Luckily, he remembered to hide his hands behind his back.
"Why the hell are you crying for, boy?" He looked at his son's gray eyes, disgusted. "We can't go to Diagon Alley with you looking like that." His heart skipped a beat. Draco still couldn't speak properly, his parents were alive. It was a lot to take in, but it didn't matter. He had gained another chance in life. And Draco would not waste it again.
"I-I'm just happy to ... start my school year... You never know who are you going to meet." He finally spoke.
Draco remembered this day very well indeed. This was the day he met Potter in Diagon Alley. His father raised an eyebrow oddly and turned around. Draco followed him.
He looked at his hand with strangeness, seeing a mark on it. A burned scar of an hourglass symbol on the palm of his hand. What did it meant. He placed his hands quickly in the pockets of his robes, and with his eyebrows crossed, he already had determination in mind. One goal. He would not risk everything to destroy an immortal-all-powerful dark wizard, right? This sort of thing needed planning and time to fulfill. Lucky for him, time was on his side.
"Father, can I get a few extra books?"
Lucius stopped in his tracks and turned around. "What books?" His cane hit the floor as he snapped his fingers, and one of the house elfs appeared.
"You called for Dobby, sir?" The house-elf said.
Draco swallowed. This was bad. A bad idea indeed. Potter couldn't see him with a house-elf, not like this, this was going to be a bad first impression. Yes. Just like that, things can easily change. With the snap of someone's fingers.