AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Read, enjoy and review :)

oooOOOooo

The lights flickered, the walls moved a little, and Draco felt dizzy. When the lights stopped flickering and his head stopped spinning, he noticed… that nothing had changed. He was still in the attic of Malfoy manor. Maybe the time turner had broken during the rescue mission? Then all hope was lost for his wife. He sank to his knees.

Suddenly, he heard steps, and drew his wand immediately. He looked up as the door to the attic opened and he looked into the eyes of… himself. Or rather, a way younger version of himself. They stared at each other in surprised awe. Draco opened his mouth to say something – what, he wasn't sure – but noticed that the younger Draco did not move. It appeared as if he was frozen in time. Slowly, his expression unchanged, he started to fall apart. It seemed like he turned into dust. A million Draco particles flying around, swirling through the air. Draco was mesmerized by the sight. Horrified and mesmerized. If Draco had been able to turn his gaze away he would have noticed that the same was happening to him. The bits and pieces flew around the room, they circled each other until they finally settled on a form. Out of the two Dracos there was now only one left. Draco, older Draco, looked down at his hands. They were positively tiny. Devoid of any scars that he had gathered over the years. And, most importantly: no Dark Mark.

He stared at his arms for a while, struggling to comprehend.

He took a closer look at everything else in the room… there was way less stuff than just mere moments ago.

So, apparently, it had worked. But when exactly was he?

His question was somewhat answered when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

"Draco?" It sounded like his mother. "Draco, darling, where are you?"

His mother sounded so… young. And carefree. It did not sound as tired as it had the last time he had heard her.

"I am here, mother," he walked towards the door and hid the time turner in his pocket. He felt surprisingly numb. He probably should have freaked out by that point, but his mind refused to accept what his eyes told him was true.

"What were you doing up there? Never mind, hurry up, we are leaving in 10 minutes."

10 minutes? Leaving?

He ran downstairs, where he saw his trunk and Quidditch equipment. He was going back to school, so apparently it was September. He was sure this was not his first year. He hadn't been allowed to take any Quidditch equipment with him for his first year at Hogwarts. He hadn't found the scar from his encounter with Buckbeak, the hippogriff, while examining his arm earlier. Second or third year then.

His parents walked towards him. The smiles on their faces made something stir in Draco's stomach. They looked quite happy. Happier than he remembered them. The war had driven a wedge between them which they had never been able to mend completely.

Together, they made their way to King's Cross and platform 9 ¾. Once he saw the scarlet steam engine puffing smoke over the witches and wizards walking around the platform, he finally relaxed somewhat. He glanced over the platform and saw a gathering of red heads. The Weasleys. And in their middle – Albus Potter. No - wait. That couldn't be right. His father, Harry Potter, who he had just seen about half an hour ago, but at the same time it felt like years had passed between their last encounter.

He saw one of the older Weasleys walking towards a girl with long, curly hair. He was sporting a shiny badge on his chest. He saw Ginny and Harry snicker, and then Harry's eyes met his and the latter's face fell immediately. Draco frowned. He knew with time this would probably change again, but right now he couldn't bring himself to dislike any of the Gryffindors. They were still children. And which grown up hated children?

They were so innocent and young, not aware of the horrible years that lay ahead of them, that some of them would not survive. Instead of the jealousy and disgust he usually felt when he saw them or rather when his younger self had seen them, he felt a little melancholic.

With an uneasy feeling, he turned around and wrapped his arms around his parents. It was unusual for him, but he had learned the hard way how important family was and he would not waste a minute of his precious time with the people he loved. "I love you," he mumbled.

His father looked surprised while his mother smiled. "We love you too, Draco. Have a good year and don't forget to write me a letter every once in a while."

He smiled and they said their goodbyes.

Turning away from them, he took in the bustling atmosphere of the train station. There was Neville - the man who refused the Dark Lord, who slayed Nagini, who taught his son Herbology - small and chubby, saying goodbye to his grandmother. Somewhere further away was Daphne, young, innocent and smiling, chatting excitedly with Pansy and Millicent. Crabbe and Goyle - young, not yet bitter... alive - arrived at the platform with their parents.

Crabbe and Goyle were looking his way, but Draco began to feel dizzy, the world began to turn, and he quickly hurried away, towards the train.

On his way to the train he almost ran into a little girl struggling with her huge trunk.

"Astoria," he breathed, the world still turning and blurring, but her he could see with a surprising clarity. For a while, he just stared at her, overcome by emotions. She was alive. Astoria was alive!

Finally, he overcame his inability to speak and move, and offered his help with her trunk. She was so beautiful and he had missed her smile, her smell, her voice,… so much. He wanted to hug her and hold her close but he didn't want to scare her. He felt bad for being in love with an 11-year-old.

He could barely separate from her but he knew he had to. There was so much he wanted to say, but couldn't.

He hurried onto the train and sat down in an empty compartment. His parents, Astoria, all the people at the platform,… it was just too much for him. The gravity of it all felt heavy on his chest and it threatened to suffocate him.

He sat there in silence, breathing heavily and trying to sort his thoughts. He was back. He had actually traveled back through time and was apparently in the body of his younger self. This was enormous. Unheard of. The implications were... Draco was struggling to wrap his head around the pure magnitude of it all.

He could save Astoria and be a better husband and father. But he also just realized, that it would be years before he would have with Astoria what he had had the first time around. And even longer before he would see his son again. He heard his pulse throb in his ears and sweat ran down his forehead. Now that he had some alone time the incredible sense of loss hit him full force.

Suddenly, the door to his compartment swung open and a small, blond girl stood in the frame. She was wearing a necklace made out of a stopper, radish earrings and had her wand tucked behind her ear.

Draco nearly jumped out of his seat, drawing his wand out of instinct.

"You look upset," she said, seemingly unbothered by his defensive stance. "Are you alright?"

He looked at her, blinking a few times, lowering his wand again. "I've been having a rough couple of days," he finally admitted, his voice hoarse. "Years, really." He probably shouldn't talk to her, but voicing his concerns already made him feel a bit better, and his breathing eased somewhat. And she was at least somewhat neutral, in her first year, at least.

Luna looked at him. "I am sorry to hear that."

Draco smiled at her weakly. The situation was beyond surreal. Here he had just done the impossible, traveled back in time, had to consider questions of life and death... and an 11-year-old girl who his parents had held captive in their basement for... more days - weeks - months - than any child should ever be held captive, offered comfort. "I just don't know what do do now. I made many mistakes and disappointed so many people."

The girl seemed to give this some thought. "Do you feel sorry for what you did?"

Draco looked out of the window, unable to look into her innocent face, and slowly nodded his head. "Feeling sorry" did not even begin to cover the gut-wrenching guilt he felt when he thought about his past. He could not even look at Luna without feeling horrible. His parents had held a child captive. A child! And he had fully supported it.

"That's the most important thing, I think," she said. "If you do the right thing from now on and you feel truly sorry for what you have done..."

That sounded a lot like advice Astoria would have given him, but it did not solve his problem. "I don't know what the right thing is," he admitted. He never did. When he had been younger he thought supporting his parents was the right thing, and clearly he had been wrong. But now? Did staying in the past mean he abandoned his son? Or did his son not exist anymore and he had killed him? Or would he abandon him by not doing anything in his might to make things right and save the boy's mother?

"You have made mistakes, everyone does. Just because someone stumbles and loses their way, it doesn't mean they're lost forever. You stumbled. Maybe a wrackspurt floated through your head for a while... But you seem to have found your way again. You have learned from your mistakes and you regret them. I don't think it really matters what you do from now on, as long as you do it with good intentions and don't repeat the mistakes of your past," Luna said with conviction.

Draco gave this some thought. Maybe Luna was right. Maybe there was no right decision in this. Maybe the important part was that whatever decision he made, he made it for the right reasons. And Astoria, his wonderful Astoria, was still alive and he had years to figure out a way to break the curse that would eventually take her from him. He had years that he could spend with her. He would be a better husband and father when the time came. He would not make the same mistakes again.

It would be hard for him, to live without his wife and son for a few years, but maybe he deserved this punishment. But he knew this was the best for both of them and for once, he would not be selfish and do the right thing. For Astoria. And for Scorpius. He would make sure that they would live happy, healthy and, most importantly, long lives.

"You are Luna, right?" he asked, his mood suddenly a lot better now that he had made a decision.

"You know me?"

Did he? Had he known her before she joined Potter's gang of misfits? Before his parents had... "Just remember your name from the ceremony. Ravenclaw, right?"

"Yes. And you are Draco Malfoy, Slytherin," she stated more than asked. She appeared absent-minded, as she always did, and was a little unkempt, but she was clearly sharper than Draco had ever given her credit for.

"How do you know?"

"My father sometimes writes articles about your father."

Draco vaguely remembered one about his father being the son of a Veela, among other ridiculous articles.

"Ah," he just said. He wanted to say something nice about her father's paper but couldn't come up with anything even semi nice.

Luna looked down the corridor and decided to leave.

"It was nice talking to you, Draco Malfoy."

"Luna," he called after her. "Thanks."

She smiled and left. A few seconds later, Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini walked into his compartment.

TBC

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