Always Look on the Bright Side of the Life

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

My version of what happened in the Forbidden Forest in Year 1

----- 

After being caught by Filch, what Harry worried most was neither being hated by his housemates nor getting detention.

Future-Draco had told him that they were going to have detention together even in the original timeline.

Gripping the EchoTile in his hand tightly, Harry was hesitant about sending Draco a message. They hadn’t really talked after that night, so he wondered if Draco was angry with him. He was the one who asked the Slytherin to join them afterall.

As he was typing a line and deleted it repeatedly, Hermione tapped on his shoulder. “You really need to focus. Exam is coming.” She told him with a stern look.

This time she wasn’t exaggerating ; the exam really was around the corner. Harry nodded, pocketed the thin plastic panel and went back to revise the names of Jupiter’s moons.

Right, exams, Draco must be busy studying too.

He thought, hoping that it was the sole reason that they still hadn’t talked for over a week.

-------

At eleven pm, Harry and Hermione went to the entrance hall and reported to Filch. Draco was already there. To Harry’s relief, Draco didn’t seem angry with him. He nodded at both of them tersely when they arrived. From his weary eyes, Harry knew that he was probably staying up late to study again.

The three of them walked behind Filch and stayed silent while he was happily terrorising them. Then he was busily talking to Hagrid. When Draco heard that they were going to go into the Forbidden Forest, he paled and trembled visibly as he protested, but ultimately failed. Harry noticed his fear and leaned closer to him. “Don’t worry, Draco. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered to the Slytherin.

Perhaps Hermione was scared too, she let out a muffled squeal behind her hands when she heard what he said.

“Who… who said I’m worried?” Draco’s teeth were chattering. “I… I'm just cold.”

“Sorry for getting you into trouble,” Harry apologised, taking off his scarf and wrapped it around Draco. Though the blonde wasn’t really that cold and he wanted to point out that Harry could use the Hot Air Charm, it somehow calmed him effectively.

For some reason, Hermione hid her face into her own scarf and began to squirm. With a scowl, Draco shot her a look and told Harry, “It wasn’t your fault. I made the decision to help and… I didn’t notice about the cloak either,” he added reluctantly. “So, it’s kind of my responsibility too.”

“Okay kids! Enough chatting!” Filch barked. “I’ll be back at dawn for what’s left of you.” Then he turned and left with his lamp.

Hagrid told them that they were going into the forest and tried to find an injured unicorn by following the shinning blood on the ground. To quicken the searching procedure, they were split into two teams. Naturally, Harry and Draco were in a team.

“I think it’d be better if Hermione follows Hagrid,” Harry suggested. Draco nodded, still looked horrified before they took Fang with them.

The Forbidden Forest was alluring in a sinister way at night. The whisper of the leaves sounded as if they were trying to tell you a secret. The occasionally found silver blue blood on the trail enhanced the disturbing atmosphere eerily.

Pulling his cloak around himself more tightly, Draco asked grudgingly, “Aren’t you scared at all?” He had mixed feelings towards Harry’s bravery, couldn’t decide if he should be impressed, reassured or jealous.

“Hm?” busy tracing the unicorn’s blood using the faint light, Harry glanced at him and replied. “A little.”

“Only a little?” Draco yelled in a whisper.

“I was quite used to the dark.” The oil lamp glowed on the Gryffindor’s wry smile. Draco knew that it was forced. “And tiny spaces.”

Harry’s answered made him forgot that he was terrified for a second. When Draco wanted to ask why, Harry said, “Besides, you’re here with me.” This time, he smiled more naturally.

Mix feelings.

Draco kind of felt guilty as he knew very well that he wasn’t a dependable person at all. He suspected that he would scream and bolt once he sensed any danger. But when Harry’s sincere, unquestioning eyes were directed at him, Draco really wanted to live up to his trust. He would definitely hate it if he had disappointed Harry. Draco thought as he was watching him ruffling and encouraging Fang, who was whimpering. “Of course, you’re here with us too, right?” he told and patted the dog supportively.

The further they went into the forest, the thicker it became. The air became chillier as well. Their breath became visible, like fog in the air.

It shouldn’t be this cold. When Draco was rubbing the sides of his arms, Harry threw an arm around him and pulled him closer. “Shh, Draco, something’s over there,” he whispered, clamping his hand over Draco’s mouth just in time to stifle his yell. The Slytherin shivered because of the frosty air or some other reasons.

They stared at each other silently for a few beats before they nodded and moved on, walking as quietly as they could.

Some mysterious light was shining behind the bushes they were hiding. A dead unicorn lay there. Though it still looked hauntingly beautiful, it was quite obvious that it was murdered, given the unnatural way it was laying on the ground.

Harry’s lips pursed into a thin line while Draco covered his mouth with both of his hands. Fang was transfixed, didn’t dare make a noise as well.

Out of nowhere, a hooded figure bounced towards the unicorn’s corpse and began to suck its blood!

Draco was glad that he had covered his mouth or else he would scream. Unfortunately, Fang let out a howl and dashed off into the dark. When Draco wanted to drag Harry with him and do the same, the Gryffindor clutched his scar with both of his hands and crouched down in pain.

“Harry? Harry!”

All Draco’s self-preserving nature shrieked at him to run, but he somehow plucked up all his courage from Salazar knew where and pulled Harry up. They managed to staggered a few steps and fell onto the muddy ground.

“Draco,” Harry said in pain, couldn’t even open his eyes. “Run…”

“Stop being a bloody hero!” Draco yelled, pulling him with all his might. “You’re going with me!”

Malfoys always put their own interest first.

The creepy hooded-creature was crawling towards them in a menacing manner. There was still time for him to escape alone.

Besides, you’re here with me.

When the monster was almost there, Draco held Harry tight and was braced for the worst. Okay, at least he could be brave just this once. At least Harry wouldn’t be disappointed in him. Well, Father definitely would. His mind ‘helpfully’ supplied.

The rustling was getting closer and closer as Draco idly thought.

Ah, I hope this wouldn’t leave a scar on my face.

Before Draco passed out, he heard some galloping sound and the last thing he saw was a horse jumping over them.

--------- 

Draco woke with a start. He could even feel his cold sweat dripping down the side of his temple. But someone wiped it away in the next second.

He had a vague idea that he was in the hospital wing before he turned his head and saw Harry sitting by his bed side on a stool. He looked a bit pale.

Draco let out a sigh of relief, “We didn’t die.”

Harry’s lips curved into a half-smile, “No, we didn’t.”

The Slytherin covered his face with his hands, “I can’t believe that I fainted!”

“But you didn’t run away without me,” Draco heard Harry say quietly. Then he smelled the scent of soap and felt the warmth and soft touch of hair on the side of his face. “Thank you so much, Draco. What would I do without you?”

Draco Malfoy had just lost 5 Health Points of his heart for the hug he got.

Why is it so hot here suddenly?

Inhaling deeply, Draco replied, “I… didn’t do anything.” His voice sounded a bit croaky, a bit breathless.

When Harry pulled away, he could finally put his hands back onto the sides. “I just know that you’re brave.” Harry beamed at him. Somehow the colour returned to his face after the trivial conversation. “Let me get you some water.”

Draco downed two large glasses of water like he was drinking beer. “Where’s Granger?”

“In the common room with Ron,” he said, putting back the glass for Draco.

Then he told Draco what happened in the forest briefly. He concluded, “V is trying to use the Philosopher’s stone to become immortal.”

“V?” Draco tilted his head.

That monster doesn’t deserved to have three syllables for his name.

Future-Draco once told him.

“V for Voldemort,” Harry replied like he was saying ‘A for apple”. Draco trembled at the name. “You mean he will come to Hogwarts?”

Harry nodded. Draco was shocked that he didn’t seem frightened at all.

Actually Harry was. He was so scared that he almost couldn’t breathe. But the fact that Draco was here offered him some comfort. He wasn’t alone.

Don’t worry Harry. You’ll survive as long as you’re friends with Weasley and Granger.

Draco was deep in thought at the news until Harry took his icy hand and squeezed it. “I think Madam Pomfrey would yell at me if I didn’t tell her you’ve been awake this whole time,” he said as he stood up. “And I can’t keep Hermione and Ron waiting for so long either.”

“Okay,” Draco said, didn’t really know what he should say. “Be careful? I guess.”

Harry nodded, gave him another soft smile and said, “Goodnight then.”

This night was too long. Harry wondered if he would be able to sleep tonight. When he was ready to leave, Draco said, “I’ll Echo you later.” But when Harry turned back, the Slytherin had lain back down on the bed with the blanket over his head. Harry smiled to himself and replied, “Okay.”

As Harry walked towards Madam Pomfrey’s office, he thought,

Draco, you’re just as important to me as my friends are, if not more.

----

The End

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62748337/chapters/160638337

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Set in Year 1, before Harry and the others sent Hagrid's dragon away.

-------

The air in March was still a bit chilly even though spring was around the corner. Trees around the lake showed budding leaves, and early flowers like snowdrops or crocuses started to bloom, adding bits of purple and yellow here and there. Draco breathed in the cool air with hints of warmth. Maybe it was a good day to have a walk outside the castle.

The Slytherin watched as the giant squid swam underneath the slowly melting layer of ice of the lake, still wondering why Harry asked him to meet here as he was approaching one of the large oak trees where they met last time. The Gryfinddor was there already, sitting on the ground with his back on the trunk while staring at the lake with his dark emerald eyes.

Harry Potter was a mystery to him.

Right from the first time they met at Madam Malkin’s, Draco was both perplexed and fascinated by him. Unlike other Gryffindors who just jump to the conclusion that all Slytherins, especially the Malfoys, were evil and should be eschewed and wary of, Harry seemed to have his own perceptions. Draco still couldn’t figure out his intention behind all his actions. The reason for shielding Draco from the explosion of Longbottom’s potion and covering for Draco’s rule violation in the Flying Lesson were unknown to the Slytherin. It’s just impossible that the reason was just simple as the Gryffindor claimed, that he just wanted to be Draco’s friend.

Harry’s values were the exact opposite of his father’s. Friendship, forgiveness, kindness, loyalty and even honesty were all foolish notions of naïfs, as Father told him all the time.

But somehow, when Harry was trying to convince him to consider otherwise, reluctantly, Draco began to doubt whether what Father told him was the absolute truth. And he even wanted to do something foolish, like,

Like he wanted to trust Harry.

To believe their relationship can be simple.

It felt so safe and comforting to know that he would always be forgiven without any consequences. Draco had never felt something like that before, not even with his parents. There were always consequences if he did something that displeased his parents, especially his father.

Sometimes Draco would think that his parents loved him just because he was their only heir and their affection came with conditions. That he had to constantly prove to them that he was worthy of being their heir. On the contrary, Harry had never really wanted anything from him. Draco never needed to make any effort to “earn” to be his friend. Come to think of it, to Harry, he was only “Draco” right from the beginning. Harry had never called him “Malfoy”.

Not even once.

For the first time in his life, Draco didn’t have to bear his family name. He didn’t have to be a Malfoy. He was proud to be one, but, sometimes the name just felt like a collar around his neck, tightening from time to time, suffocating him gradually.

Inhaling the fresh air once more, Draco relaxed himself and took a few long strides towards the Gryffindor.

“Draco. You’re here,” Harry said, looked up and smiled at him gently but brightly.

And here it came again. That’s what confused Draco the most. The way Harry’s expression lit up whenever he saw Draco, as if he was the most important person in this world. Why and how did he understand me so easily? Draco wondered and his intuition told him that Harry was hiding something. And that something was why Harry found it easy to forgive everything that Draco had done. Sometimes he even had a feeling that Harry had known him long before they had met.

That’s how much I want to be your friend.

Draco recalled what the Gryffindor told him last time Draco almost got him expelled. It’s totally Potter’s fault that Draco’s traitorous heart started to hammer whenever he talked to Draco.

“You want to talk to me?” he asked, hoping his face didn’t turn too red. This was the only time he hated his pale skin.

Harry studied him for a while before he nodded and patted the space next to him, “Come and sit down.”

Malfoys don’t sit on the ground.

Draco wanted to say but he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to sit on the grass just for a while, right? His father wasn’t here and he’s just sitting, for heaven’s sake!

The blonde slowly sat down and left a polite distance between them. But the Gryffindor seemed to be ignorant to Draco’s courtesy and scooted close to him after he had sat down. Their shoulders were slightly touching.

Draco was sure that his cheeks were burning at that moment.

Does he have the concept of personal space?

But Draco chose not to react or move. He had a feeling that if he made a fuss about it, he would be considered as inferior or in normal teenagers’ term, “lame”.

He wondered if Harry normally sat this close to Weasley when they were studying. The last time he checked, there was always a gap between them when he saw them in the Great Hall.

“You look a bit tired,” Harry said, tilting his head to observe him. “Did you have enough sleep?”

Out of instinct, Draco pressed his fingers under his eyes, hoping that he hadn’t had dark circles. “I… I’m fine! Just staying up a bit late to study.”

Harry chuckled at his answer, “You too? Studying two months in advance before the exam?”

“Well, consider all the amount we have to stuff in our heads, that’s a fair duration.”

“Point taken.”

Taking a deep breath, Draco tried to compose himself, “So, what do you want to tell me?” He crossed his arms. “Why don’t you tell me through the EchoTile?”

“But I can’t see your expressions or hear your voice through it,” Harry said, sounding somehow disappointed. “It can’t reflect the tone the user is using either.”

“Okay…”

“And we haven’t had time to really talk lately,” Harry went on, chucking a stone into the lake. “I mean, without anyone else around.”

Draco tried not to imagine why they couldn’t just talk with other people around or why Harry thought seeing him and hearing his voice was important. “Fine, so what do you want to tell me?”

“Hagrid has a dragon egg.”

“He what?” Draco asked, dumbfounded. “He’d be terminated for that! It’s totally illegal.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile as he heard the blonde accuse someone of doing something illegal, consider how many laws Future-Draco had violated. “Yeah, that’s what we’re worrying about recently, other than the exams.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him, “Why are you telling me this?”

“I can trust you, right?” Here he went again, staring at Draco with his glittering, sincere, green, green eyes. Something in Draco’s heart was always tugged when Harry stared at him like that. Father was going to have a fit if he found out that Draco had allowed someone to have so much control over his emotions.

“I won’t tell anyone about it, but,” Draco blushed as he saw the Gryffindor’s soft smile. “What are you going to do with it?”

“We were trying to persuade Hagrid to get rid of it but didn’t succeed.”

“Well, you can tell how much he loves ferocious beasts just by looking at that fierce dog of his.”

“What do you think we should do, Draco?”

The Slytherin stroke his chin thoughtfully, “Selling it wouldn’t be an option since it attracts too much attention. Do one of you know anyone whose work is related to dragons?”

“Related to dragons…” Harry mulled the idea over. “Oh! I remember that Ron’s brother is studying about dragons in Romania! Maybe he could help.”

“Which brother are you talking about?” Draco shrugged nonchalantly. “He has so many brothers that I’ve lost count of them.”

Harry laughed as he stood from the ground, patting the grass that lingered on his robes. “I think he has five. Sometimes I forgot that too.”

The blonde scoffed as Harry extended his hand to him, saying, “Let’s go back to the castle to chat. It’s still a bit chilly out here.”

Sometimes Draco wondered how Harry could show his kindness so naturally and generously, as if he was innate to. It wasn’t the first time Harry held his hand but he still needed to wait a few beats until he took the Gryffindor’s warm, offered hand.

-------

The End

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62748337/chapters/160638337

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Ten

-------------

The last few days of the holidays were rather uneventful until the second last day before the new term started. When Ron and Harry were on their way to the library to finish the last bits of their homework, they ran into Draco, who was standing outside the library.

“Draco!” Harry smiled and walked briskly towards him. “I thought you won’t be back until tomorrow?”

The blonde just gave him a nonchalant nod but the soft blush on his cheeks said otherwise. “I forgot to bring my Transfiguration essay home, so I come back early to school to finish it.”

“Really? We’re also going to finish it now, right? Ron?” Harry turned to the other Gryffindor next to him but found no one there.

When Harry was looking around to look for his redhead friend, Draco’s upper lip curled up a bit, “Weasley has gone into the library already.”

Harry thought he must be in a hurry to seize the last bit of time to finish his homework since he still had four more essays to write. However, the fact was, Ron was quite fed up with their unintentional displays of affection whenever they chatted.

“Here, put this near you when you sleep,” Draco said, handing him a dark green velvet box. A blueish-green crystal was placed in it.

Harry took the box and studied the beautiful stone. The gem was exceptionally enchanting. Its translucent blue hues shimmered like sunlight dancing on water, making it fascinating to look at. Not sure if it’s just his imagination, but simply staring at it could bring peace to his mind.

“It’s an Aquamarine. Legends say that it’s a treasure from mermaids. They collected it from the ocean floor to adorn their underwater kingdoms.” Draco told him proudly.

“But it’s too precious,” Harry said, handing the box back to him. “I can’t take it.”

“I’m just lending it to you,” Draco said, crossing his arms. “You’re having nightmares right?”

“But I haven’t had any since that night I chatted with you.” Harry smiled, still holding the box before the blonde. “And now you’re back already.”

The Slytherin blushed and replied in false annoyance, “Just keep it for a while. Stop making a fuss!”

Seeing those puffed cheeks and stubborn gray eyes, Harry knew perfectly well that he should probably accept the crystal without further arguing. “Okay, I’ll keep it well,” the Gryffindor smiled, carefully closed the box and put it into his satchel. “Would you join us and finish our homework together?”

Draco shot him a wearily look, “How many essays does Weasley need to finish?”

“Er… two?”

“Hm?” Draco raised an eyebrow skeptically, hands on his hips.

“Okay,” Harry sighed, wondering why he had to lie a moment ago, probably too embarrassed on Ron’s behalf. “Four.”

“Good luck with helping him with that,” Draco drawled lazily and added mockingly. “Mate.”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at his tone. He sounded so much like his future self. Draco smiled a little and began to walk away.

“Draco.”

“Hm?” he turned, smothering a yawn with the back of his hand. He must be exhausted from the journey back to Hogwarts.

“Welcome back,” Harry said, finding his gesture endearing. He actually wanted to talk to Draco some more but decided otherwise. He should let the Slytherin rest.

The blonde just grunted softly before he continued walking and waved. The tips of his ears turned slightly red.

---------

The End

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[denymore92]

The Future You!verse

Hi, I've updated my fic. Please read if you're looking for a fluff, light reading.

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Nine

Set during the Christmas holiday in Year 1, after Harry had encountered Dumbledore in the room with the Mirror of Erised

--------

When Harry went back to the dorm, he climbed onto his bed and collapsed face first onto his pillow, the sense of emptiness strangely overpowering. His Invisibility Cloak discarded on the side of the bed.

Get some sleep. It’d be fine after a while.

Harry let out a long breath. Right, there wasn’t anything else he could do now, so he just focused on counting his breaths and gradually fell asleep.

-------------- 

He woke up with a start, his face and body covered in cold sweat. Panting slightly, he recalled the nightmare he had about green light, his parents’ scream and someone else’s evil laughter.

It’d been a long time since he had that particular nightmare. The last time he had it was during the period when Future-Draco’s visits were so unstable that he hadn’t appeared in his cupboard for two whole months. Harry was under great stress at that time, fearing that he couldn’t see Draco again.

He took out Dreamcatcher ,a small glass bottle and a creamy-coloured velvet cushion from the Infinite Pouch with shaky hands.

This Dreamcatcher isn’t just an ordinary one used by Native Americans; it’s enchanted, obviously, so it’s much more than a mere decoration!

Harry’s tremble subsided a bit as he curled himself up and cuddled the cushion tight. Just feeling the smooth, soft, plushy feeling calmed him a little. A few moments later, he unplugged the stopper from the glass bottle, inhaling the scent of shea butter with slow, deliberate breaths.

Hm? Why do I smell different today? Oh! I’m trying to make perfume using shea butter.

Harry hung the circular web in the corner of the canopy, watching the beads and feathers swaying slightly in the dark.

Sorry for not always being here for you, Harry.

Harry shook his head. His own childish voice echoed in his mind.

It’s okay, Draco. I’ll be strong for you. Don’t cry!

The vibration in his pocket nearly made him jump in surprise.

Oh! Right, I almost forgot!

Fishing out the thin plastic pad from his pocket, he touched the corner to feed it with his magic. At the same time he turned on his moon nightlight.

Harry smiled at the words appeared on the small board.

(Hello? Potter?)

Relief washed over him once he realised that Hedwig had delivered his parcel to Draco successfully. It was the first time she had to fly so far away. He’d make sure that she’d get her treats after she’s back. Harry’s smile went boarder as he quickly typed in :< Potter isn’t here but Harry does. Would you like to talk to him?>

There wasn’t any reply for a while. Future-Draco had tried to use this invention in another timeline with him. But it didn’t work, obviously.

I got the idea from muggle mobile phones. Potter kept asking me to buy one so that he could text me. Since he’s too annoying, I told him I’m going to make something similar to shut him up.

(Where did you get this peculiar gadget?)

Luckily, Harry was prepared for that question, thanks to the mysterious person who sent him the Invisibility Cloak. <My father left it to me.> He typed and lied easily.

(Oh, he invented it himself?)

<Yeah.>

(What did he call it?)

Though Harry could also see this question coming, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh. It took him ages to come up with a name for this gadget since Future-Draco didn’t tell him its name and he couldn’t just call it a mobile phone.

<It’s EchoTile.>

(That’s a good name, I suppose. The mechanics behind it seem really complicated to me.)

<Why are you up? It’s so late at night.>

It’s 2 am.

(I can ask you the same question.)

<But I asked first, so you got to answer first.> Harry smiled as he replied. It’s a pity that he couldn’t see Draco’s expression through the EchoTile.

(Fine.) A few beats. (I was reading about Nicolas Flamel. You wanted to research about him right?)

<Yeah. What about him?> Harry was surprised that Draco would spend his precious holiday time to look for something so boring for him.

(It turns out that he’s the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone!)

Future-Draco didn’t teach him anything about the Philosopher’s Stone, so Harry could just type his tentative speculation. <Er… Is that stone very precious?>

(What? Of course it is! It can turn any metal into pure gold and it can produce the Elixir of Life. If you drink it, you’ll become immortal!)

<Wow. That’s why everyone wants to get it, I guess.>

(Why do you want to know about Nicolas Flamel in the first place?)

<I can tell you about it but you must keep it a secret, okay?>

(Okay. Now spill.)

<You can’t even tell Crabbe or Goyle.>

(Do I look like I tell those two morons everything I know?)

Harry chuckled at the reply. He could imagine Draco rolling his eyes when he replied.

Harry told Draco about the three-headed dog and it seemed to be guarding something important. And that something appeared to be the Philosopher’s Stone.

(How come you didn’t get caught by Filch?)

<Apparently I have a huge protagonist aura.> Harry laughed and parroted what Future-Draco told him when he was five.

(Don’t be such an arrogant git. If there is a protagonist at Hogwarts, it should definitely be me!)

Harry burst out laughing. Good thing he had cast a silencing charm in advance.

<Yup, can’t agree more.>

The reply didn’t come after a minute. When Harry thought perhaps Draco had fallen asleep or he chose not to reply, a line appeared on the dark plastic pad.

(It’s your turn to answer.)

<Huh?>

(Why are you up this late?)

Harry’s fingertip hovered above the EchoTile, hesitating, not sure if he should tell the Slytherin the truth. But he guessed it wouldn’t hurt to let Draco know more about him right?

<Nightmares.> Harry then told him about what he saw in those horrible dreams.

(It must be horrible having dreams like that.)

<But I don’t get them very often, so don’t worry.>

He tried to reassure Draco as he remembered the distressed expression Future-Darco had every time they talked about his nightmares.

(You’d better tell Pomfrey about it if it gets too bad.)

<Okay, I will.> The familiarity of chatting with Draco brought him infinite warmth and comfort. The emptiness he felt before falling asleep was as if it had never happened at all. <I don’t think I’ll have nightmares anymore tonight.>

(Because?)

<Because I can look forward to seeing you again after the holidays.>

Harry lay his head onto the pillow, feeling comfortably sleepy. He thought this time Draco wasn’t going to reply. He closed his eyes but still kept the EchoTile clenched in his hand. The aroma of Shea butter was still hanging in the air, calming his nerves. When his breath was getting deeper, the soft vibration woke him.

<You can send me a message if you have another nightmare. But I won’t guarantee you’ll get a reply if I don’t feel like it!>

The corner of Harry’s mouth curled at the very Draco-like reply, sweet and somehow haughty at the same time.

<Okay, nightnight.> Harry replied, just like those numerous times he told Draco.

<Goodnight.>

After Harry had drifted off to sleep, this time he only dreamt of a field of blue, purple, yellow wild flowers with Draco standing in the middle, smiling and waving at him. The white daisy crown became lopsided in his honey-blonde hair.

-------------- 

The End

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Eight

Set before & in the first Potions lesson in Year 1

----------

On Friday, when Harry and Ron were looking for where the potion classroom was, Harry asked, “We’re going to have Double Potions with the Slytherins, right?”

“Yeah,” the red-head yawned, obviously still not fully awake. “We only have Potions with them.”

Harry nodded while going down the stairs, which was moving into a different direction. Ron groaned, “I just wish these bloody stairs would stay still.” When they continued walking, they came across a group of students whispering as they were not-so-subtly stealing peeks at the dark-hair boy.

Ron sent them a scowl when they passed the students. “Aren’t you bothered by those people loud-whispering about you?” he turned and asked Harry, who was deciding which way they should go next.

“Hm? Not really,” he replied, turning left. “And by the way, if we need to have pair works in Potion, can I pair up with Draco? I don’t get to see him much during class.”

Ron gave him an exasperated look, “What? Malfoy again?” he shrugged. “I just don’t get why you insist on being his friend. He’s kind of too posh and arrogant for me.”

“Well, his family brought him up like this. Just like you’re practical and friendly like your family.” Harry pointed out, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder. “So, can I?”

“Okay, if you have to,” Ron pouted, not very pleased with the arrangement. “I guess I can team up with someone else.”

“Thanks,” Harry grinned, throwing an arm around him. “I promise to team up with you in all other classes and I’ll even play chess with you after class, even I suck at it.”

“I’d prefer you buy me five, no, ten more chocolate frogs instead.”

“Okay, deal!”

As they were chattering, they had finally arrived at the dungeon where the Potion classroom was located at. A group of Slytherins was strolling in front of them.

“Hey! Draco!” Harry called from a distance, waving eagerly. Ron made a face beside him but didn’t walk away.

The blonde paused his conversation with his housemate and turned. He looked different today.

When Harry managed to get a closer look, his heart skipped a beat.

Draco looked exactly the same as Future-Draco since he didn’t apply any gel onto his hair today! His naturally soft waves of silky, honey blonde hair beautifully complemented his creamy ivory skin, softening his typically cold and stiff aura, making him appear more approachable.

The sunlight early in the morning cast a soft glow around him, enhancing his angelic appearance, resembling the image that five-year-old Harry had seen when he first met Draco.

So beautiful and I thought you were an angel!

‘Well, they are basically the same person,’ Harry thought, warmth bubbling in his heart. ‘This one is just shorter and his face is slightly rounder.”

He didn’t expect Draco to change his hairstyle because of him, given the fact that Draco placed great importance on his appearance, especially his hair and hairstyle. This must mean something right? Harry couldn’t help but raise his hope.

During Harry’s internal monologue, Draco had told some of his schoolmates to go on first and walked towards him with only Crabbe and Goyle on his heel.

“Good morning,” Draco greeted, trying to keep his posture as calm as possible. But Harry could tell that the blonde was feeling self-conscious under his gaze. There was a faint blush on his usually pale skin once their eyes met.

“Oi, Malfoy,” surprisingly, it was Ron who gave a response first. “Have you run out of gel finally?”

Dacro’s expression turned from sunny to stormy in that instant. But before he could open his mouth to snarl at Ron, Harry complimented, “Draco, I just wanted to say that your natural hairstyle looks amazing! It suits you way better than before,” he added with a warm smile. “I really like it.”

Ron’s jaw dropped and Draco’s head whipped back towards Harry, cheeks turning red once more, his mouth clammed shut.

It took a few beats before the blonde remembered that he should properly reply and Ron closed his mouth and rolled his eyes.

“I…” Draco cleared his throat, all the venomous comments he planned to hurl at Ron forgotten. He stood straighter than before. “Thanks for your appreciation. But I just happened to run out of time getting ready this morning.” He shot Ron a glare. “Of course I have an abundant supply of styling solution. Unlike some people, I…”

Crabbe, who usually stayed silent, piped up at this point, “But you’d spent an hour in the washroom this morning.” Goyle elbowed him to stop him from giving further information.

Harry and Ron were holding their laughter while Draco retorted, “It wasn’t an hour. Just 45 minutes!” When he saw the other boys elbowing each other, he further elaborated, “And I'm just trying to be a decent person here, so I take my time to brush my teeth and clean up properly.”

When all the boys just stared at him with funny expressions, Draco put his hands on his hips and snapped, “What?”

“Okay, we better hurry up,” Harry said, effectively changing the topic. “or we’ll be late.”

The boys entered the Potion classroom and immediately felt the temperature had dropped a few degrees. The Gryffindors shivered while the Slytherins weren’t bothered a bit at all.

Harry and Draco sat at a table behind Neville while the others went to the back of the classroom. Professor Snape made a sarcastic remark about Harry when he was taking the register. Draco gave him a sympathetic glance but Harry was rather unaffected by the comment. He was just wondering how often Snape washed his hair. Maybe he did wash it every day, but he kept sweating while brewing potions, which resulted in his oily hair. Harry frowned at the absurdity of the assumption since wizards had millions ways to maintain clean, grease-free hair.

Snape subtly made another nasty comment about him, staring daggers at him but Harry easily filtered it out and chose to make eye contact with the friendly blackboard, a neutral expression on his face, pretending that he didn’t notice the Potion Master was actually referring him. Future-Draco had warned him about Snape but he knew the man was actually a good person in a mean disguise.

Don’t worry, Draco, I’m going to save your Godfather for you, no matter how mean he’s being to me.

He thought as he softly bumped the side of his arm with the blonde next to him, who then blinked in surprise.

As if provoked by his movement, Snape chose to bark at him at that moment, “Potter!” Harry swore that from the corner of his eyes, he saw some spit spraying from his mouth, which landed on the students sitting in front of him. Obviously they were too scared to notice, let alone complaining. Why did he need to be so dramatic?

The one whom was startled was Draco, expression turned concerned. Harry turned his gaze to Snape finally, replying with a polite, “Yes?” while wondering about how many kinds of viruses could be can be transmitted through droplets.

“What would I get if I added powdered of root asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Hermione’s hand shot up after the last syllable was uttered but Snape ignored her.

Harry’s brain supplied him with the answer in the second when he heard all the keywords but he acted surprised, pretended to think, and glanced at Draco, who had closed his eyes and feigned sleep.

“Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing?” the veins on Snape’s forehead popped up as he snapped.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle as Draco straightened up and mumbled, “Nothing, sir.” Then he jabbed Harry in the rib with his elbow, which caused him to grimace.

The blonde then crossed his arms, giving him a you-are-on-your-own look.

Harry took a moment to consider if he should answer correctly or not but it was a good chance to impress Draco, so he did.

“If we added powdered of root asphodel to an infusion of wormwood, we can make a sleeping potion.” Harry answered slowly and clearly, nursing his side. “But it is too powerful, so people call it the Draught of Living Death.”

Snape looked like a volcano ready to explode after hearing the correct answer. He then fired a few more questions towards Harry. He answered them without much difficulty, even provided extra information Snape didn’t ask. After all, it was hard not to remember the knowledge he had been spoon-fed since he was five.

And I could get treacle tarts if I answered perfectly.

“Well, why aren’t you all copying down the answers to those questions?” Snape brusquely asked the class while he swivelled his cloak and walked back onto the stage.

Why does he need to be so dramatic?

Harry asked himself the tenth time, writing down the notes anyways. Then, he peeked at Draco’s elegant handwriting and admired how neat and beautiful it was.

Noticing being watched, Draco asked, “What?”

Harry looked as Draco tucked a lock of stray hair behind his ear. When Snape was giving the students instructions of what they needed to do next, an idea came to him.

“Can’t you believe him?” Harry whispered as he got the ingredients ready. “I got no points or praise even after I’ve answered all his questions correctly. Really?”

Draco raised an eyebrow and picked up dried nettles to weigh. “What do you expect?” he squinted at the scale. “It’s Sev-, Snape we’re talking about. Not getting yelled at counted as a praise.”

“What about you?” Harry asked.

“Hm?”

“Why don’t you praise me?”

“Excuse me?” Draco’s voice got a pitch higher as he was crushing the snake fangs with too much force.

The next second, Snape was breathing down their necks behind their backs. They kept their lips firmly sealed and went back to work diligently.

After he had made an effort to praise how perfect Draco’s work was and pointedly ignored the fine work that Harry had done, he swept away with his cloak.

Harry shot a dirty look at Snape’s back but quickly changed his expression to a neutral one once the professor turned and glared at him.

Draco found the exchange between the two of them entertaining. However, he had no idea how he should react, so he just pretended nothing had happened.

“It happens again,” Harry sighed, his shoulders slumped.

“…”

“Poor me, an orphan, without anyone to praise me,” Harry grumbled as he filled the cauldron with fresh water and plunked it down heavily.

“Well,” the corner of Draco’s mouth twitched. “Everyone is talking about your legendary story, aren’t they? Great Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord even when he was still an infant.”

“I don’t care about how everyone thinks of me.”

“…” Draco blushed, adjusting the cauldron to a proper position.

Harry sulkily pouted while watching the water boil.

After a few pauses, Draco sighed, “What do you want?”

“Praise.”

“Fine.” Draco bit his lip, putting some horned slugs into the cauldron, muttering something that suspiciously sounded like some childish hero. “So, you have done your reading. Good for you.”

Harry’s eyes widened at those familiar words. Because of that, he almost didn’t catch a glimpse of the moment when Neville added the quills into the cauldron. He tried to stop him but it was too late, so Harry just managed to shield Draco from the explosion of Neville’s cauldron, resulting in burns on his left arm and back.

“Harry!” Draco gasped as Harry hissed in pain.

He shook his head, stood onto the stool and helped Draco stand on his to avoid the flood of the potion. The pain was greater than expected. He wobbled a bit and Draco grabbed his right arm to steady him. “Are you okay?” he asked, visibly worried.

Harry gave him a weak smile to reassure him. “Don’t worry. I’m alright.”

Actually he knew that Neville’s cauldron was going to explode at some point. Future-Draco told him to stay away to ‘the walking disaster’ especially during Potions, but Harry decided to do otherwise. He planned to either stop the accident from happening or make use of it.

He would protect Draco from the explosion to gain his trust. To make sure that the potion wouldn’t reach Draco, he had even cast a wandless Protego between Draco and himself.

Snape cleared the spilled potion, yelled at Neville then blamed Harry for not preventing him from adding the quills. Harry mumbled an apology as he heard Future-Draco’s reprimand in his mind.

I told you not to do anything stupid because of me!

Snape ordered Seamus to take the injured boys to the hospital wing. Draco moved towards them, attempted to follow but Snape said through his gritted teeth, “You’re not going anywhere, Mr. Malfoy.”

“But…”

Snape shot him a fury glare and Draco ducked his head, chancing a glance at the Gryffindors.

Giving him a small wave and smile, Harry left the classroom with the two boys.

An hour later, Harry was still sitting on the chair in the hospital wing, daggling his legs while waiting for Madam Pomfrey to discharge him. His wounds were fine within a few minutes after he had taken a vial with purple potion. It tasted worse than the cough syrup with grape flavour.

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled him out of his stare at the ceiling. Ron was briskly walking towards him. To his surprise, Draco was right on the red head’s heels.

“Mate, are you alright?” Ron asked, handing him a sandwich. “Here, grab a bite.”

“I think I can go any moment,” Harry replied, took the food and began to eat. He just realised that he had skipped lunch and was starving.

Draco just stood a bit far away, biting his lower lip.

“Can you ask Madam Pomfrey if I can go or not?” Harry asked Ron, giving him a sidelong glance and making a small gesture towards the blonde.

Ron pulled a face but took the hint. Harry thanked him silently as he walked away.

Draco trotted to him once they were alone. Harry swallowed the mouthful of sandwich and grinned at him, “Thanks for coming to check on me.”

The Slytherin looked as if he was on the verge of tears as he reached into his pocket, took out a treacle tart which was wrapped in a napkin and gave it to Harry.

As Harry’s face lit up at the dessert, Draco looked relieved for a moment but he began to fidget with his hands once the Gryffindor took it.

“How do you know I like it?” Harry happily munched on it.

“It’s difficult not to,” he said, voice a bit raspy. “You include it in every meal.”

Harry nodded, “You don’t need to worry so much. I’m fine.” He rolled up his sleeve to let him see the healed skin. There wasn’t any trace of injury.

“I’m not worried,” Draco argued. “I just… don’t like it.”

“Don’t like what?”

“Don’t like owing anyone anything.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Harry finished the last bit of the pastry and said. “You didn’t ask me to shield you from the explosion.” He licked his fingers and explained. “I just wanted to do it.”

Draco looked scandalised when he saw Harry’s unhygienic behaviour. He fished out his dark green handkerchief and offered it to the raven-haired boy. “I don’t get why you have to do it for me. How long have we known each other? A week?”

“You think too much, Draco.” Harry wiped his hand. “I’ll wash it before giving it back to you.”

“Just keep it. I have many handkerchiefs.” Draco waved him off. “You haven’t answered my question.”

For a few beats, they just stared at each other in silence. Then, Harry let out an exasperated sigh.

“Just because it’s the right thing to do?” Harry looked up and pondered. “Because we are friends? Because I don’t want you to get hurt? Because I want you to worry about me?”

Draco’s face was turning a deeper and deeper shade of red as he heard Harry’s reasons. “What nonsense are you going on about?”

Harry let out another heavy sigh, “Normally, people would just thank their friend if he has done them a flavor.” He stood up and put a hand onto Draco’s shoulder, “You have come to visit and given me a treacle tart, so we’re even now, okay?”

You have no idea how much more you’ve done for me, Draco.

Draco looked as if he still wanted to argue more but Harry caught Ron rolling his eyes behind the curtain of one of the beds, mouthing to him that he could go now.

Harry was glad that he had listened to Future-Draco and became friends with Ron. Somehow he found the red-head hilarious.

“We’re going to visit Hagrid’s hut but I guess you wouldn’t want to come, right?” Harry asked. Without waiting for a reply, he made his way to leave. “So, see you ar…”

Draco pulled the edge of his robe, making Harry stop abruptly. He turned and gave the blonde a questioned look.

“Thank you,” he said, averting his eyes for a second but looked up in the next. “For keeping me from getting hurt.”

Harry grinned and said, “You’re welcome.”

--------------- 

The End

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Seven

Set before the sorting in Year 1

---------

Harry and Draco sat in the same table and waited for their turns to get sorted.

When Neville realised that he had forgotten to take the Sorting Hat off, he ran back and gave it to MacDougal. Harry couldn’t help but whisper to Draco, “This is quite nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

Draco nodded and whispered back, “Maybe you can be sorted into Slytherin.”

Harry smiled, instead of replying, he just stared at Draco’s hair.

“What?” he scowled and asked quietly, putting a hand on the side of his head to make sure that his hair was still perfectly tidy.

“I think your hair would look great even without any hair products.”

Draco’s eyes widened, face slowly heating up. When he opened his mouth to speak, he heard his name being called. He quickly stood up and walked to the stool. Sitting down, Draco couldn’t help but glance at Harry’s direction. When he saw the other boy’s smile, he averted his eyes immediately. It took the sorting hat a few seconds before it screamed, “SLYTHERIN!”

Harry clapped as he watched Draco join Crabbe and Goyle. When it was finally his turn, he stepped forward, ignoring the whispers in the hall. He had known how other people in the magical world thought of him since he was five. Future-Draco had always taught him to filter all unnecessary noise and distraction. As the hat was put onto his head, he glanced at Draco and the blonde this time stared right back, with his right hand clenching his left on his lap.

Harry wondered what his life would be like if he could be in the same house as Draco. There would be much more they could experience together.

The Sorting Hat appeared to have trouble sorting him. Its various thoughts buzzed straightly into Harry’s mind. So he closed his eyes and helpfully thought, ‘Please sort me into Gryffindor.’

‘Hm?’ the hat mused. ‘I thought you want to be sorted into Slytherin.’

You have to be sorted into Gryffindor, Harry.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he thought calmly. ‘Gryffindor, please.’

He didn’t want to disappoint Future-Draco even though Harry knew very well that he would never find out which house he was sorted into.

He remained steadfast in keeping all his promises.

“Well, if you’re sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!!!”

The roar of cheering in the hall was deafening. Before sitting down at the Gryffindor table, he shot Draco, who was sitting far far away at the Slytherin table, an apologetic smile. But luckily, the blonde returned a smile that was almost unnoticeable before he looked away.

Then, the feast began. The plates in front of Harry were piled with various kinds of food that he liked. They reminded him of his first few encounters with Future-Draco.

“Really? I can have all the food here?” five-year-old Harry asked, eyes shining with delight.

Draco smiled, ruffled his hair and nodded.

Once getting the permission to eat, Harry began to stuff a bit of everything into his mouth, nearly choking himself. Draco frowned at his behaviour, handing him a glass of water while chiding, “Don’t eat like a barbarian.” When Harry managed to swallow all the food, the blonde let out a sigh of relief. “No one is going to take away the food from you.”

“But if I don’t eat fast enough, Dudley…” Harry looked down and told him quietly, voice quivering, feeling ashamed and frustrated at the same time.

Draco wiped the corner of his mouth. Harry looked up and saw his rueful smile. “Now that you have me, you don’t need to worry about that anymore,” Draco said softly, handing Harry a golden-brown, flaky pastry. It smelled sweet and buttery.

Harry picked up a treacle tart and took a bite. The tangy, sweet taste was just exactly the same as he remembered when Future-Draco first gave him one to eat. Ever since that night, he learnt to slow down his eating pace and just have his meals like a normal child.

He couldn’t bear to imagine what his childhood would have been like if Draco hadn’t been with him during those six years.

After dinner, everyone sang the school song with weird lyrics. Then the Gryffindors followed Percy, who was also Ron’s brother (Harry couldn’t remember how many siblings Ron had), to their dorm.

Everyone was exhausted, so no one suggested staying up late and chat. Harry lay onto a proper bed gratefully. He didn’t have much experience sleeping in a real bed. He closed his eyes contentedly and fell into a deep slumber, a smile tugging at his lips.

At that night, he dreamt of Future-Draco beaming at him while he was telling the blonde all about his first day in Hogwarts.

----------------------  

The End

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62748337/chapters/160638337

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Six

------

Set right before kid-Harry started Hogwarts, when he first met kid-Draco at Madam Malkin's. (aka the famous scene)

---------------

“Might as well get your uniform,” Hagrid said.

Harry swallowed hard, heart hammering as he stared up at the signboard of Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, at the same time going through all the things he was going to do and say in his brain.

“ ‘arry? Are you alright?” the giant asked. “You look like yeh’re about to go’on a battle.”

“I’m fine,” Harry replied evenly. “You said you have something else to do?”

“Yeah, see yeh later.”

Harry nodded and pushed open the door of the tailor store.

“Hogwarts, dear?” Madam Malkin asked, then said. “Got the lot there – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.”

Harry walked slowly into the back of the store, schooling his expression into a neutral one.

Then, he saw Draco, who was standing on a footstool.

It was him and not him at the same time. The pale, pointed features were all his but the aura around him was totally different. Maybe because of the rigid hairstyle that didn’t suit him at all. When he turned and gave Harry a lazy glance, Harry noticed that the kindness wasn’t there. Only boredom, cold, and indifference remained in those grey eyes.

“Hullo,” Draco said. “Hogwarts too?”

Smile

“Yes,” replied Harry, with a polite smile.

“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands,” he drawled. “Then, I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms…”

I don’t remember what I said exactly, probably just some rubbish, just cut me off when you see the chance.

Harry interrupted at this point, “It must be nice to have your parents going shopping with you.”

This got Draco’s attention. Turning to look at Harry more properly, he asked, “Yours aren’t with you?”

Playing for sympathy while showing me who you are.

“No,” Harry lowered his eyes, then seemingly carelessly brushed away his fringe, revealing his lightning scar on his forehead. “They both passed.”

Draco’s face began to show more emotion.

“By the way,” Harry walked closer to him. “I’m Harry.”

He noticed that Draco had taken a deep breath before replying, “I’m Draco, Draco Malfoy.”

I know.

Then the blonde held out his hand. Harry’s upper lip couldn’t help but curl up a little, recalling what Draco had told him again and again.

If I have offered my hand, you must shake it. Understand?

Harry nodded before shaking his hand. It was cold, unlike Future-Draco’s. “Nice to meet you.”

“Know what house you’ll be in yet?” Draco asked, looked pleased with him so far.

“Probably Gryffindor,” Harry said causally, observing his reaction. “Both of my parents were in Gryffindor.”

“Oh, Gryffindor is not bad, I suppose,” Draco said, “I think I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff…”

Just say anything you normally would as if Bully-Draco were me.

“How nice would it be if I can be in the same house as you, Draco,” Harry commented honestly.

Draco clammed up in his mid-rambling, face turning a deep shade of red.

The witch in the tailor shop giggled not-so-quietly while pretended that she didn’t hear or see anything.

“Well…that… that would be perfect, wouldn’t it?” Draco spluttered, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Harry felt delighted to see his Draco-like reaction but was discouraged immediately the next second he heard what Draco said.

“I say, look at that man!” looking for something else to say, he nodded at the front window which Hagrid was standing. He couldn’t go into the shop because he was holding an ice cream. “I’ve heard of him. He’s sort of a servant.”

I was unkind to the people who were first being nice to you, so it was only natural that you didn’t like me.

“He…” Harry started, looking at the floor sadly. He thought he had mentally braced himself enough but the impact of actually hearing Draco insulting people whom he liked was still by no means soft.

You have to be friends with Ron and Hermione even if that means you can’t be friends with me.

Harry wasn’t going to give up this easily.

“Hagrid is the gamekeeper at Hogwarts,” Harry looked up and told Draco in a calm tone. “He’s taking me here for shopping since my parents couldn’t make it.”

He believed that if they understood each other’s situation a bit more, they might eventually find common ground. That’s what Future-Draco had told him and it was engraved in his mind.

Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “Oh, I didn’t realise. My apologies.” Then Harry saw him wanting to say something more but decided not to, biting his lip.

Just let me know your stance subtly. I would keep my snide remarks in check if I want to stay in good terms with you.

“Though Hagrid’s a giant, not exactly a wizard and a little bit clumsy sometimes,” Harry said, titling his head. “He’s a really kind person, so I like him.”

Draco fell silent, obviously didn’t know how to reply in this kind of situation.

Luckily, Madam Malkin came to his rescue and called, “That’s you done, my dear.”

“Okay,” Harry replied, before walking away, he gave Draco a bright smile. “See you around at Hogwarts, Draco.”

The blonde just managed to nod absent-mindedly and said a distracted “goodbye” to him.

How did I do, Draco? No bad, eh?

Harry thought to himself as he was getting his measure.

There’s still a long way for you to go, mate.

Future-Draco’s voice echoed as clearly as he could remember in his head.

-------------  

To Be Continued

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Five

---------------------

Draco landed on the beige English Roll Arm sofa in Grimmauld Place, letting out a sigh of relief. He was grateful that this time he didn’t land on a hard surface like the kitchen counter or the floor.

He leaned back against the sofa’s backrest, raising his hand to look at the aquamarine paper tulip that ten-year-old Harry had folded and given him. It was slightly wrinkled since he was clutching it tightly in his hand, afraid that he would leave it behind in the past.

Draco smiled ruefully as he tried to smooth out the crinkles on the paper, hands slightly trembling.

“Where have you been, Draco?”

The blonde looked up and found twenty-five-year-old Harry standing at the entrance of the living room, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Just came down here to sit for a while,” he lied, still straightening the origami with his fingers.

Harry let out an exasperated sigh, walked towards the sofa and sat beside him. “This is my house, remember?” he asked, put an arm around Draco and pulled him close. “I can feel the moment you enter or leave the house.”

Draco cursed himself for his own carelessness. Of course Potter would have interrogated him even if he had gone away for literally 10 minutes only.

He shouldn’t have moved back so soon merely because Potter told him that he missed him.

“Draco?”

He put the paper flower into his pocket, threw an arm around Harry’s waist and closed his eyes, wondering how he could manage to grow bigger than Draco even though he had suffered from malnutrition for ten years in his childhood.

“Hey, don’t sleep,” Harry chuckled, shaking him slightly. “What are you up to this time?”

“Shut up, Potter,” he drawled lazily, voice muffled. “Let me sleep. I’m knackered.”

Though each time-travel journey only took him about 10-15 minutes on his current timeline, it still exhausted him every time. He needed to sleep at least 10 hours after each trip to recover.

“Come on…” Harry softly poked at the blonde’s cheek to keep him awake.

“Shush!” Draco snapped, grabbed Harry’s hand and put it on his head. “Stroke my hair.”

The hand on his head didn’t move. “Are you a little child?”

Draco clucked his tongue and began to pull away but Harry held him back. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it.”

They stayed silent for a while as Harry was softly combing his hair. His movements were a bit hesitant since he wasn’t used to doing it. Draco’s sense was gradually becoming dimmer as the seconds passed, inhaling the soothing smell of soap and meadow.

Five-year-old Harry used to smell like tears and detergent.

Draco idly thought, feeling himself drifting into sleep.

“Is your latest project related to time-travelling?”

He froze, all the drowsiness disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Ah, so that’s what you’re up to,” Harry commented quietly, still touching his hair. “You’re just lucky that I’m not an Auror anymore or I’ll need to report you.”

Draco pretended to be asleep.

“I don’t really care what you have done during your time-travelling trips but I won’t let you go again.” Harry continued quietly but sounded determined. “It’s dangerous. What if you can never come back again?” he asked as he tightened his hold.

Potter and his younger self are the same person. Draco decided, heart beating faster. Both of them are able to say something so embarrassing without even blinking.

Draco looked up at Harry’s worried emerald eyes, took away his hideous glasses and smiled. “So this is how you look like when you’ve grown up,” he whispered, feeling proud of himself.

Ten-year-old Harry didn’t need to wear any glasses since Draco had made sure that he had plenty of light in the cupboard and kept a good reading posture. In fact, Draco suspected that the kid’s sight was even better than his.

Harry’s eyes widened as he inhaled deeply. “That’s why you kept going back?”

Draco tilted his head and brushed away Harry’s slightly long fringe. Memories flooded into his mind like a muggle movie. Draco recalled the way five-year-old Harry curled himself into a ball in the corner of the cupboard the first time they met. “I just can’t leave him alone. He was just so little… and…” he tried to steady his breath and hold back the tears. “… he’s so lonely.”

He couldn’t even bear to think about how miserable Little Harry’s life was before he had appeared. It made Draco even more heartbroken when he realised that this Harry in front of him didn’t meet Draco when he was five.

“I’m sure he isn’t lonely anymore,” Harry replied, hugged him close and gently rubbed his back, “because he had you.”

Draco let himself sob in Harry’s arms. “Would he be fine in Hogwarts?” he asked, gipping the front of Harry’s black T-shirt. “So many awful things are going to happen to him.”

Harry laughed, “Of course he would be fine. I guess you’ve told him everything you knew?”

Draco nodded uncertainly. “But there are so missing pieces he still doesn’t know!”

“I didn’t know anything either when I was ten,” Harry shrugged. “He’s just such a lucky bastard.”

Draco frowned at his words, “What?”

“He had you in his childhood and he can grow up with you when he has liked you already.”

Draco felt his cheeks heating up. “How do you…”

“It’s me you’re talking about.” Harry told him with a crooked smile, wiping away his tears with his sleeve. “I kind of had a thing for you even when we were rivals. It’s not difficult to imagine what would happen if I were fond of you already before we had even met.”

Draco didn’t know how to react to those honest confessions.

“I would do anything just to make you like me back.” Harry gave him a smile which looked nothing like the innocent smile that kid-Harry had.

Draco shuddered and pressed his hand onto his own left temple. “Should I be worried about my younger self?”

“I don’t think so,” Harry held his hand and squeezed it softly. “Ten-year-old Draco Malfoy isn’t that easy to deal with either.”

Draco punched his arm lightly as he laughed. “It’s your fault you didn’t accept my offer of a handshake!”

“Yup, can’t agree more.” Harry grinned, lifting his hands in a playful sign of surrender.

“And you almost sliced me in half!”

“Come on, how many times do I need to apologise for that?” Harry asked and hugged him.

“You have to remorse for that for the rest of your life.”

Harry shook his head, smiling. “Can I see the paper flower?”

“This?” the blonde showed it to him before leaning back onto his shoulder.

“I don’t know how to fold a paper tulip.” Harry said as he examined the lovely origami. “I guess my younger self had learnt it especially for you.”

Draco was too embarrassed to reply.

“Which do you like more, me or my younger self?”

“Don’t be jealous of yourself, idiot.” Draco chided, recalling the fact that five-year-old Harry had asked him the exact same question.

And he wasn’t going to tell Potter that he said he liked Little Harry more. You just couldn’t answer anything else when you saw those round, teary, innocent big eyes and quivering lips.

“I’m going to make you like me more no matter what you’d told him,” Harry said into his ears, feeling strangely competitive with his younger self.

“…” Draco shivered slightly at the depth of his voice but decided that replying was a waste of energy.

When Draco thought that he could finally rest, he felt a tender kiss planted on the crown of his head.

“Thank you, I guess?” Harry smiled down at him, looking surprisingly sheepish.

“What for?”

“For giving another me hope and love.”

Draco stared into those warm, moist emerald eyes and felt the overwhelming sense of love and bliss bubbling in his heart. He smiled and gently kiss Harry on his lips as his reply.

---------

To Be Continued

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Four

--------------------  

Actually Harry had noticed.

He had noticed that the sand in Draco’s hourglass was getting lower and lower each time they met. Apparently, it was a time machine which Draco had invented after their first encounter. Once Harry asked him if it was illegal too and he just got a mysterious smirk as a reply.

And Harry also noticed that Draco glanced at the hourglass from time to time as if he had to keep track of the amount of sand that had been dropping onto the bottom bulb. Recently, the time that Draco stayed seemed to get much shorter.

Harry, who was now ten, knew exactly what was going to happen.

Tomorrow would be his eleven-year-old birthday. Draco once told him that someone called Hagrid would come and take him to the magical world once he reached eleven. In there, he would meet present-Draco (who had Dudley’s personality). Then, they would study in Hogwarts together.

“If I have met another Draco, does that mean I can’t meet you anymore?” Harry suddenly asked when Draco was explaining to him what a bezoar was and where to find it.

“Focus, Harry,” the blonde told him without looking up from the Potion textbook, “Tell me again what a bezoar is?” he asked, tucking a lock of stray hair behind his ear.

Though a bit distracted by Draco’s gesture and hair, Harry still managed to reply without much thought, “A bezoar is a stone in an animal’s stomach. We can usually find it in a goat’s stomach.”

Draco nodded in approval. His pleased expression always made Harry wanted to impress him some more.

“And bezoars were believed to have magical properties and were often used as antidotes for poison.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “You have done your reading. Good for you.”

Harry thanked him but he insisted on asking, “Can I still see you even when I study at Hogwarts?”

“Persistent, aren’t you?” he sighed. “It must be because of my good influence. You have now grown so clever.”

Harry frowned and pursed his lips, he’s avoiding the question.

“Ah, this used to work so well, damn it!” Draco cursed half-heartedly. “You guessed it right. Today is our last gathering.”

Harry watched as the blonde took out a little box, enlarged it, and opened its lid.

There was a cake inside.

“Be grateful,” Draco pushed it towards him and lit up the single candle on it. “But I suppose you aren’t surprised anymore right? Given the fact that I brought you one every year in the past five years.”

It had been five years already?

Harry wondered, speechless, couldn’t see the cake clearly since tears were blurring his sight. All these years, Draco was like his only family member, celebrating all the important festivals with him, though the time was always off. Last year, they celebrated Christmas in January and Easter in June. Draco’s visits were a bit unstable from time to time. He sometimes appeared every day in a month while in other months, he might not appear at all.

But at least, at least Harry was sure that he could see him again! He wanted to throw a tantrum, to yell and beg Draco to stay here with him or take him to the future.

He breathed in deeply and exhaled. It would just bother Draco if he made a fuss. He had been bothering him for five years!

“Ah… don’t cry,” Draco said softly, put an arm around him just like the first time he met Harry. “You’re going to go to the magical world tomorrow! You can leave this cupboard! Shouldn’t you be happy?”

I would stay in this cupboard if that means I can see you again.

Harry thought but he apologised instead, “Sorry.”

“Now you can apologise properly,” Draco chuckled and ruffled his black but not-tangled-anymore hair. “Do you remember what you used to say?”

Harry shook his head.

“You said, ‘Sowwy’ every time.”

Harry laughed a bit, “You shouldn’t make fun of a five-year-old kid, how mean!”

Draco scoffed and drawled, “You’ll know what mean truly is tomorrow.” He studied his fingernails. “When it comes to being mean, I’m definitely an expert.”

Harry laughed while shaking his head. Is this something you should boast about?

“Fine. I’ll brag about something else later,” he waved his hand in dismissal. “Now, blow the candle and make a wish,”

Feeling less miserable, Harry complied and closed his eyes.

The candle was blown off.

Draco unclasped his necklace and put it around Harry. “Happy birthday, Harry,” he smiled fondly.

The necklace still carried a bit of the warmth of Draco. “But, don’t you need it yourself?” Harry asked, thinking that he couldn’t just take something so important.

“Who do you think I am?” Draco asked with a smug expression, with his hands on his hips. “The magical artefacts I created are numerous. I don’t care if I just give one away.”

Harry knew that he was lying. Draco always averted his face when he wasn’t telling the truth.

“When you want to activate it, just feed it with your magic by touching it for three seconds. It’s activated if its mouth is open.”

“Thank you, Draco.” he smiled, holding the little pendent gently. “I’ll cherish it.”

“Hm, you’re welcome.”

Before Draco could notice, he was pulled into a tight hug.

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “Scared the bloody hell out of me!”

“I’ll miss you terribly,” Harry said into Draco’s hair, feeling the rims of his eyes heating up again but refused to cry. “But I’ll definitely be your friend,” he added, tightening his hold, oblivious about the physical strength he was now having. “I promise!”

For a second, I thought he was Potter.

This time Draco didn’t complain about being crushed or feeling hard to breathe. He just nodded and said, “Then I’ll wait for you in the future.”

--------------------- 

To Be Continued

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Three

-------------------- 

Just like what Draco had promised, he appeared in Harry’s cupboard every now and then. At first, he popped up every month. Then every two weeks. And currently, Harry got to see him about three days every week.

Harry hadn’t been this happy in his life. He had learnt many wandless spells from Draco. It took him three months to finally cast Protego. To impress Draco, he practised very diligently every moment he had the chance to focus (including on the way to school, in the classroom when the teacher wasn’t watching, when he was doing the housework and of course, whenever he was in his cupboard).

He could never forget the proud smile on Draco’s face when he first succeeded in building up an invisible shield in front of him.

“Told you that you can do it,” Draco crossed his arms. “Since you have such an intelligent and skillful teacher.”

Harry nodded and agreed wholeheartedly, “I dun think I can do it without you. Thanks, Draco. You’re brilliant!”

And like an arrogant peacock, Draco once again stuck his nose in the air, while nodding in approval and blushing, “Hm, go on, flatter me more. I deserve all the praise in the world.”

“Draco, you’re so clever, so amazing, so kind, so patient, so cool…” Harry racked his little brains to come up with all the positive adjectives he knew.

“Hm… go on, go on…”

“…so helpful, so brave, so strong, so rich, so tall, so lovely…”

“Wait,” Draco laughed, “Don’t just count all the adjectives you know. Give more thoughts.”

“…so beautiful!”

“You should use ‘handsome’ to describe a gentleman, young lad,” Draco pointed out, wriggling his finger.

“I know,” Harry smiled with a toothy grin. “But you are beautiful!”

Draco’s cheeks became a deep shade of crimson. He wouldn’t get embarrassed so easily just because a five-year-old called him pretty, would he?

“So beautiful and I thought you were an angel!”

“…okay,” Draco held out a hand, with a deadpan expression. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Still smiling, Harry asked the question that he kept forgetting to ask because they were too busy getting the shielding spell successful. “When will I meet you?”

“You mean again?”

“No, I mean, er,” Harry knitted his brows together. “When will I meet another you?”

“Oh, him…” somehow Draco lowered his eyes and seemed a bit sad.

“Draco?”

“You’ll meet him when you turn eleven.”

“Eleven…” Harry started to count his little fingers. “That means six years later?”

“Right,” the blonde bit his lower lip, expressions seemed troubled. “But you may not like him very much.”

“Of course I’ll like him,” Harry exclaimed, grabbing the edge of Draco’s robe. “I like you so much! I… I like you more than anyone in the world!”

“Thanks,” Draco smiled ruefully, ruffling his hair in a comforting manner. “But I’m not that kind when I was little. Because of my upbringing, I was selfish, cruel and prejudiced. You kind of hated me back then.”

Harry’s five-year-old brain was reeling, “That couldn’t be! And… and what is upbwinging?”

Draco chuckled at his question. Harry grabbed the chance to cuddle him, “I will never hate you, Draco.”

As he felt Draco’s hand stroking his hair softly, he closed his eyes and quietly listened to Draco’s heartbeat.

After a few beats, Harry heard Draco ask, “If someone was unkind to me, would you hate that person?”

“Of course I will!” Harry looked up, bristled just imagined someone being rude to Draco.

“Exactly,” he smiled bitterly, brushing away the fringe which was falling over Harry’s eyes. “I was unkind to the people who were first being nice to you, so it was only natural that you didn’t like me.”

Harry nuzzled into the blonde’s chest, “But I want to be your friend! I want to be Draco’s friend!”

Combing his tangled hair gently, Draco attempted to work through the knots as if they were complicated puzzles. He always took it as a challenge to make Harry’s hair look tidier and become just a little bit tamer.

Harry felt warm, safe and drowsy whenever Draco started to comb his hair. He could be a cat. He could be Draco’s cat if that meant he could stay close to him every day.

When he thought it was the end of their conversation, Draco said, quietly, “Harry, do you want to know more about me?”

Fighting the urge to sleep, Harry looked up at him with a familiar stubbornness, “Of course I do!”

Draco was a little taken aback when he looked directly into those fierce emerald eyes. Harry still didn’t need to wear glasses at his age.

Maybe I could help him keep his eyesight.

Draco thought and he told Harry all about himself, his family and what happened when they were at Hogwarts. He could only tell Harry his side of the story though. Some pieces that only Future-Harry knew were obviously missing.

Since it was a really long story, it took Draco a few months to tell him all he knew.

“Ah, one thing that might help you get the idea of my younger self,” Draco concluded one night. “Potter told me once that I reminded you of Dudley when you first met me. Oops, just realised that I’d actually heard of that name.”

Harry’s eyes grew as large as saucers when he heard that, “Draco’s like Dudley? That’s…that’s…” he stammered, devastated at the news.

“There’s still a long way for you to go, mate,” Draco drawled sarcastically. “By the way ‘mate’ is the catchphrase of Ronald Weasley, who is also your best friend. He just says ‘mate’ every time he ends his sentences. Like full stops.”

Harry laughed as he was jotting down notes. Draco had told him too many stuff. His little brain couldn’t remember them all.

“And there is also your nanny, no, I mean your another best friend Hermione Granger,” Draco continued with a bored tone. “She’s a walking encyclopedia. Write it down.”

“What is en-cycle-p-dee-a?”

“Then write down “library” L I B R A RY,” he spelled it for Harry helpfully.

And Harry obeyed dutifully.

“Harry, you really need to work on your handwriting,” Draco commented a bit disapprovingly as he peeked at his notes. “Next time I’ll fetch you a handwriting exercise book.”

Harry nodded and replied, “Thanks Draco.” as he made more efforts to write more tidily. He darted out his tongue and tightened the corner of his mouth as he slowed down his writing pace and curling the words more steadily. When the words became more intelligible, Draco ruffled his hair as a gesture of appreciation.

In fact, Harry’s vocabulary had significantly increased thanks to all the books (mostly textbooks of spells, transfiguration, potions, and ‘dark art’ which Harry was very confused about) Draco had given him. He also gifted him with quills and other stationery, a magical bag which you could put everything in, plenty of sweets and pastry, a moon lamp which just needed to be charged with magic, pillows, blankets, and countless other things.

Sometimes Harry felt guilty as he couldn’t give anything back to Draco.

When Draco knew his thoughts, he just waved it off with, “Just think of those as bribes. In return, you must be my friend even if I’m being mean and difficult.”

“I’ll be your friend no matter what happens!” he dropped his quill and hugged Draco. “And without any gifts!”

“I know, I know…” Draco patted his back softly, wondering why Harry liked cuddling him so much. “Keep that in mind even when you’re friends with Weasley and Granger.”

“I don’t need them to be my friends,” Harry protested. “I just need you!”

Draco thought he would be delighted to hear that but he felt dread crept over him instead. He didn’t want Harry to be in danger just because he wanted to Draco’s friend.

“Listen, Harry,” Draco told him evenly after comforting him with a few more pats on his back. “You have to be sorted into Gryffindor and become friends with Weals… with Ron and Hermione. Even if that means I can’t be friends with you.”

“No!”

 It’s the first time Harry had refused to do what Draco told him to.

“I’m so glad that you like me enough to abandon two of your best friends,” Draco reasoned slowly, putting his hands onto Harry’s shoulders. “But they had played important roles in your life. They had helped you through many ordeals and you’ll need them when you’re in peril.”

Harry shook his head frantically. “You can do it for me too…” he started sobbing mid-sentence. It had been a long time since he cried in front of Draco. “Why can’t it be you?” he wailed without trying to hold back. For the first time, Harry acted like other little kids when they couldn’t get what they wanted.

Draco’s heart cracked a little when he heard Harry cry like this. He never wailed, not even when he got burnt or badly beaten up.

Why couldn’t it be him? He had asked himself this question a million times when he was still young.

Guess you have to ask Bloody Fate the reason.

“I might be able to help you,” Draco tried to convince him again. “But I… I wasn’t that brave when I was young. I’m confident that I can help you as much as Granger, no, Hermione does, but sometimes Ron’s stupidity and recklessness helped you in an unexpected way.”

Harry just looked down, biting his shaking bottom lip.

“And even if we didn’t like each other at school. We still ended up together, so everything will be fine, right?”

He got a frown as the reply.

“Okay, maybe it won’t be that bad,” Draco said, holding up his clutched little hands. “Maybe… let’s say… if my younger self thinks you’re more important than my father…”

Harry looked up at Draco’s blushed faced, perplexed.

“I can’t guarantee that you can succeed!” the blonde said quickly. “But if he likes you enough, it’s possible that he will do what you want him to, like being nice to your friends…”

Harry blinked and breathed more steadily.

“… and if you become more important to him than Father to him…” Draco murmured, more to himself than to Harry. “Oh! Salazar! What am I thinking!”

“How can I do that?” Harry asked, a bit too eagerly, getting so close that Draco had to lean onto the wall behind him. “Will you teach me? Please, Draco, please?”

Draco smacked his hand onto his own face.

Do I have to teach Potter how to manipulate my younger self?

Draco forced a smile on his face as the little kid began to nag away at him.

Potter was just his natural enemy no matter what timeline they were in.

------------------

TBC

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62748337/chapters/160638337

[denymore92]

Spring Comes, and We...

Chapter 1

Love leads to growth. That's why they have become much more mature... as time goes by.

Flames were spreading fiercely in an enormous iron tray. He somehow found it soothing while watching something burn. Maybe it's a thing in his blood, his nature. The fire eased the negative emotions that were constantly haunting him.

Indulging yourself in rage or jealousy whenever you feel it makes you weak.

A certain someone told him a long time ago.

I'm not asking you to suppress them. What you need is to control. You want strength, don't you?

Yes, I do.

Why don't you do it, then?

I…tried, but I just can't...

Because you're too small.

Her lips curled as she commented.

Don't call me small!

He put the last pile of stale documents inside. It almost became ash instantly once it contacted the tip of the flame. He smiled with satisfaction. His fire had grown to be stronger.

It appeared that she was right.

And he wondered where she was as he made a small gesture with his finger. The fire went off in a blink. 

The job which no one in the castle (except him) wanted to take was done. Fine, everyone was happy.

Control , he pondered, looking at his right palm and closed his hand.

I 'll be back someday, I promise.

Ignoring the voice echoing at the back of his mind, he slowly walked towards the backdoor of the castle.

-----------------------------------------------------

There were lots of things that he regretted in his entire life, no, it should be in his life till now. Only eighteen years had passed after he was born. Making his signature an eight-word one instead of a four-word one is on the top three of his "regret list". He could have written a thousand characters fewer if he hadn't done such a thing just to make his signature longer and as a result looked more "powerful".

Sometimes he wondered how his mind worked when he was fifteen. He had to admit he had made loads of silly decisions in these three years but at the same time he had learnt from mistakes. Three years wasn't really a long period of time but for humans, or half humans, that's enough for an adolescent to turn into his early adulthood.

He had changed. Lots of people would give the same comment as they observed. 

He no longer complained when he had to work with piles of paper or train his skills of swords. He even started making notes and asking questions during his lessons with the often dramatically crying or nose-bleeding teacher.

The number of winkles on Gwendal's forehead seemed to decrease. Gunter shed his tears and blew into his handkerchief (as usual). Conrad gave him an approving smile like he always did.

The change certainly pleased many people.

One third of the documents were records of trade or land selling. Sometimes there were suspicious contracts that required further inspections before they were approved by the king.

This is another strange contract. Why would a landlord use so much money to buy such a tiny piece of infertile land in that remote place?

With a slight sigh, he wrote “further inspection needed” and put it in a separate wooden box.

Moving his head a little, his neck bone gave a small cracking noise. He had lost track of time again. The sky outside was turning dark. He planned to continue his work for a bit longer before dinner but a soft cough caught his attention. 

He looked up and found his three advisers standing in front of his desk, all of them wearing a stern look.

This was not a good sign but he was sure that he hadn't done anything wrong...

To be more prudent, he was eighty five percent sure about that.

“Hi everyone,” he said, putting the parchment down on the desk and waited.

The three of them exchanged a look among themselves, sending signals to urge one another to speak first. Finally, Gwendal, who was standing in the middle, frowned and spoke with his low voice “It's been three years already.”

Three years? Yes, he had been here on and off for three years already. Why did they bring this up out of the blue? It must be about anything else besides this. 

He sat back and considered for a while. The answer was not difficult to guess.

“Are you talking about our engagement?”

The atmosphere lightened a bit. They were relieved as they did not have to bring up the topic themselves.

“Yes, your majesty,” Gunter replied, with an appreciative expression on his face, of course.

If it was one or two years ago, he would just wave them off and ask them not to mention it again. But now, he wouldn't. He knew that he had to deal with this eventually. And the "eventually" appeared to be now.

“What about it?”

“Your majesty...”

“Call me Yuuri.”

“Yuuri,” Conrad started again “the expiration of your engagement with Wolfram is approaching.”

Actually, he knew. 

“If...”

“…there is no announcement of a wedding within three years of the engagement, it will be cancelled automatically. Am I right?” the young king stated quietly before his godfather had the chance to elaborate his point.

And he nodded.

“When is the exact date?” he asked.

“It would be next week.”

“I see.”

“So, what is your decision, your majesty?” the dark hair adviser asked, sounded slightly annoyed.

He wanted to be frank and say he didn't know. It didn't mean that he hadn't thought about the issue. He was thinking about it whenever he had time, when he was having a break from work, when he had the chance to space out during meals and…

When he was staring at the back of the person sleeping beside him in the dark.

What was Wolfram and him? Friends? Companions? Brothers? Fiancé? Lovers?

He wouldn't describe themselves as brothers, no. They were not exactly friends either. Try to compare Wolfram with Murata, his relationship with the former was nothing similar to the one with the latter. He wouldn't first think of Murata when he encountered problems that he couldn't deal with. He wouldn't want to share any secrets with Murata. He wouldn't smile just because he was thinking of Murata. Even the thought disgusted him. 

Wolfram had been a very special person to him. He was the person who was closest to him both physically and mentally. The blond was always by his side and somehow always knew what he was thinking. The double black was so used to his company that he didn't even mind sharing the same bed with the Mazoku a long time ago (though he would still complain about being kicked out of his own bed occasionally). The blond had crossed the border that he wouldn't allow anyone to long before he realized it. It was natural for them to share any food or drinks, to argue and then made up afterwards, to hug each other when they were extremely happy, to miss each other when he went back to Earth or Wolfram left the castle for a mission... 

Yuuri wouldn't lie and tell himself that they were only friends. He's dense but not stupid. Obviously the way they treated each other was too different from the normal standard of "friends". 

But, were they lovers? 

No, but the reason was not the "we are both guys" cliché anymore. Even if Wolfram were a girl, he would say the same thing.

Did he like Wolfram? Yes, he did.

Did he love Wolfram? He didn't know...

In the first place, what was love?

It took him too long to space out and consider his answer for Gwendal's question. His focus wasn't there until his lavender hair adviser addressed him with a worried voice.

“I think I'll talk to Wolfram first,” he said calmly as he stood up “I shouldn't be the only one who make the decision.”

Then, he left the office.

------------

To be continued

Actually, I've posted all the chapters on AO3. Please kudo/ comment if you like it :)))

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[scissorsandglitter]

~ strategic one point six-two ~ 

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

Two

-----------------------  

Harry slowly opened his eyes. Lifting his head from the pillow, he once again found himself alone in the cupboard. It wasn’t dark as before, so he guessed it was very early in the morning.

He rubbed his eyes as he sat up. The cupboard looked just the same as usual.

‘It was the most wonderful dream I’ve ever had,’ he thought to himself, putting his head on his knees and hugged them close to himself.

But it felt so real.

He tried to recall the conversation he had with Draco. ‘How fantastic would it be if Draco really exists,’ he thought as he picked up his torch at the corner of the cupboard. He’s lucky that Dudley got a bigger new one, otherwise he couldn’t even have any light when he needed to look for something.

Harry stared at the torch. Then he started to imitate Draco’s movements. He waved it a little and uttered, “Lumooooo!” And he switched on the torch. Of course it started glowing.

He giggled and started to look for his socks. He needed to put them on before his aunt banged on his cupboard door and demanded him make breakfast.

And he also needed to go to school.

He sighed as he put on one sock. He lifted his pillow to see if the other one was underneath and he found a handkerchief instead.

Harry gasped and picked up the light-blue silk handkerchief with a slightly shaky hand. It was checked and expensive-looking, with the initial D.M. embroidered in its corner.

It looked exactly like the one which Draco used when he wiped away Harry’s tears!

“Draco… Draco is real!” he exclaimed, holding it as if it was the most precious thing in this world.

------------------  

With the hope that he might be able to meet Draco again, Harry’s heart became lighter even though his life was still far more miserable than most of the children at his age. He even managed not to cry when Uncle Vernon shouted at him!

Every day, Harry would finish everything the Dursleys asked him to do and quickly rush back to his cupboard to make a wish.

And his current wish was, ‘I wish to see Draco again.’

He kept repeating his wish like a mantra while clutching Draco’s handkerchief to his chest, until he gradually fell asleep.

And he was disappointed when he woke up the next morning.

Maybe I just need to try harder!

Little Harry shook his head. Though it had been nearly a month already, he would try again that night.

-------------  

At the 55th night, Harry was crying in his cupboard after he was beaten up by Dudley’s gang. When he was stealing a peek at his handkerchief, they spotted it and snatched it away. At the moment Malcolm took it, Harry charged forward, swinging his fists with all the strength his little body could muster. But it was still taken away and he was badly kicked and beaten.

Folding himself into a ball and holding his knees tightly, Harry sobbed quietly. Now he had lost the only thing that could prove that Draco exists!

Stubborn as he was, Harry sniffed a few times and said between his sobs,

“I… I wish…” he wiped away his tears with his sleeve roughly. “I wish I can see Draco again!”

He held his breath and waited in the darkness. When nothing happened, Harry’s tears began to fall uncontrollably. He couldn’t stop the despair that was spreading in his heart.

I'm going to be alone again.

No one would love you.

Freak!

Freak!

Harry covered his ears, trying to muffle the non-existent chant in his head.

Thud!

“Ouch!”

Harry whipped his head up. Having the feeling of déjà vu, he carefully switched on his torch, which he was gripping every night in case Draco appeared suddenly.

“Godric, do I have to go through this every time?” Draco complained as he wrinkled his nose, not used to the light that was shone on him suddenly.

Harry froze for a while, couldn’t believe his eyes, so he rubbed them a few times before he looked up again.

“Er,” Draco said, a hand raised to block the bright light. “Hi? Again?”

“Draco!” he cried as he threw his arms around the blonde tightly.

“Wow wow! Easy here!” Draco didn’t expect to get such a drastic reaction from him. Cautiously, he cast a few spells just like the last time.

“I thought…” Harry whimpered. “…I thought I would never see you again!”

“Ah! Don’t hold so tight,” Draco replied with difficulty, “Can’t breathe….”

“Sowwy…” the little kid apologised, released his hold a bit but didn’t pull away.

Draco frowned when he got to finally look at Harry’s face properly. “Why are you hurt every time I see you?”

Instead of replying, Harry merely buried his head into Draco’s chest and nuzzled a little.

Draco wanted to point out that ignoring others was something rude to do but decided against it, considering the poor state that Harry was in.

“Would you like me to heal your injuries?” he asked and started stroking Harry’s unruly mop of black hair.

As if suddenly remembered something, the kid in his arms stiffened and mumbled a muffled apology.

“I don’t get why you need to apologise for being beaten.”

“Not for that, but…” Harry sat up a little, tears rolling down his already blotchy and swollen face, making it even worse. “Dudley… Dudley took your handkerchief away from me…” Then, he trembled and buried his face in his hands.

Draco exhaled deeply, cast a charm to heal Harry’s bruises and scratches and took out another handkerchief from his pocket, “You have no idea how many handkerchiefs I have in my house,” he told Harry as he wiped his tears. “Look, I even have one in Gryffindor colour. Potter thought it’d be funny if I had one. Here, take it.”

Harry took the red checked handkerchief. But this time it had D.P. embroidered in its corner.

“D.P.?” he wondered out loud. “I thought I saw D.M. on the last one.”

Draco blushed and mumbled something that sounded like, “stupid Potter’s lame joke”. Then he stood up, “I’m going to get it back.”

“Eh? You’re getting out of the cupboard?”

Draco nodded, “You said Dudley has it right? I don’t like my handkerchief being kept by your ugly cousin. It's too poor to have such a nasty new owner.”

“But…”

“Don’t you worry,” he ruffled Harry’s hair and reassured him. “I’m just going to get it back, Obliviate him and make him have bad dreams for a month.”

Harry gaped at Draco, “What’s Oblifuate?”

He rolled his eyes, “I’ll tell you all about it after I come back, alright?”

Harry nodded like an obedient little kid and opened the door for him.

“Haha, Dudley, let’s see what you’ve got,” Draco rolled his sleeves up. The evil smirk on his face made Harry shudder a little. The blonde seemed to enjoy this a bit too much.

As the door shut, Harry was tempted to follow and see what would happen but was scared that Draco wouldn’t be happy about it. So, he brought the red fabric closed. It smelled like fresh herbs.

Harry shook his head, trying to keep himself awake. He had so many questions to ask Draco! This time he must at least ask him when they were going to meet. Were they classmates in the secondary school? He tried to look for Draco at his elementary school but couldn’t.

There was a high-pitched screech outside that sounded like a pig in distress. That must be Dudley. Then, there was more yelling and stuff breaking noise.

And everything went silent.

Draco came back with a refreshed and content expression on his face. “It’s been a long time since I feel this satisfied,” he announced as he closed the door behind him. “Feels so good being a bully!”

Harry had mixed feelings at the moment, “But… will you be in twouble if someone finds out?”

Draco’s grey eyes softened, “No, I won’t. I’m a brilliant criminal,” he stuck his nose in the air as he took out a silver necklace with a pendent that looked like a little metal ball with wings. “With this, no one can detect the magic I use.”

Harry didn’t quite understand it but it must be something amazing, so he looked on in awe and clapped his hands.

“But I have to be very discreet when I use it,” he whispered. “Because it’s illegal.”

Harry clapped his hands over his mouth, “Wow…”

“It’s a secret, okay?”

Harry nodded enthusiastically.

“Hmm…” Draco touched his owned chin, seemed to be deep in thoughts. “I think I need to first teach you some basic spells so that you can at least defend yourself.” When he saw Harry’s big green eyes staring up at him, he laughed and added, “No one will know about it since I have my necklace. And yes, you can use magic too. The fact that I’m standing right here is the living proof, literally.”

“You… you can read my mind?” Harry asked, cheeks turning red.

“You’re so easy to read that I don’t need magic to,” he replied and took out an hourglass. “Did you make a wish again before I appeared?”

Harry nodded, “But I make a wish every night since the last time I saw you.”

“How many days have passed since then?”

“About… 55 days?”

“Almost two months…” Draco said to himself. “I’m working on this hourglass, so hopefully next time I can come here sooner.”

Being stared with teary eyes and quivering lips, Draco crouched and told him, “Time is a difficult topic to study. It seems to flow in a different speed in my timeline and your timeline.”

“So, I can still see you?” Harry tried really hard not to cry since he didn’t want to annoy Draco.

“Of course, ‘cause I’m a brilliant wizard, potion-master and inventor,” he snickered while pulling Harry into a warm hug. “Just hang in there before I arrive.”

Harry nodded in his arms and promised, “Okay.”

“Okay then,” Draco pulled away and looked into Harry’s eyes, the grey irises appeared to be enchanting. “Lesson 1, wandless Protego.”

Harry swallowed hard, feeling excited and anxious at the same time.

“It’ll be almost impossible but you’re the Lengendary Harry Potter with huge protagonist aura,” Draco spun his wand between his elegant fingers. “I’m sure you can do it.”

For the first time in his life, Harry thought may be his life wasn’t that bad.

-----------------  

To Be Continued

Actually, I've posted the rest in AO3. Leave me a kudo/ comment if you like it:)))))))

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62748337/chapters/160638337

[denymore92]

Keep It Simple Stupid

This story happened right after Kanasuno was beaten by Aoba Johsai. (That’s a long time ago)

-----------------------------

The pencil on his right hand was spinning slowly.

The free study periods for the third years seemed to be wasted without anyone feeling guilty. Not many students were self-disciplined enough to fully use the time given to study. Even for Sugawara, who considered himself as a good, reliable student, he couldn’t concentrate on doing revision… because of the various kinds of things on his mind.

His future plan for his studies in the university, his revision schedule, the training timetable for the volleyball team, the content and quantity included in the training…

Those were the items on his thinking list until noon yesterday. Sugawara didn’t even know that it was still possible that something, or someone, would cut in suddenly before he decided to go home yesterday…

And that “thing” was Kageyama.

Sugawara, who admitted that he was only a mediocre person, never really knew what on earth was going on in Kageyama’s (aka the volleyball genius) brain. Everyone in the team was laughing at him though, saying that he was a unicellular creature. But actually, Sugawara realized, no one really understood Kageyama at all.

Simply take the fact that everyone called him a “genius” as an example. After seeing Kageyama’s performance during a match, most people would exclaim, “Oh, he’s the chosen one to play volleyball” or “For those who are talented are just different”. Surely, Sugawara wouldn’t deny that the dark-hair first-year was gifted. However, if one wants to attain the level of skills that Kageyama obtains, it’s impossible to only count on the innate ability. There weren’t many people who had noticed the efforts that Kageyama had made.

Everyone would have their jaws dropped onto the floor if they found out how hard-working Kageyama was. He was technically the first person who arrived at the gym and the last person who left (sometimes the third-years even needed to drag him out of it). Once someone saw him running with the baseball team on Sunday! Sugawara reckoned he didn’t take any rest even on holidays.

What’s up with that guy? Why does he have to work on volleyball to that extreme?

No one understood Kageyama. Though Sugawara was in the same team as him, he could only know a tiny little part about him.

Like looking at the tip of the iceberg.

Sugawara thought.

I think I can read people quite well but I can’t predict his patterns of thinking, what he is going to say or what his reactions are, not even once... 

The vice-captain of Karasuno couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sign when he recalled what happened yesterday.

He was confessed by Kageyama.

What caught him off guard though was the time and the place he did that.

Sugawara attempted once again to focus on revising. The new vocabulary items his English teacher asked them to memorize started to become some unrecognizable symbols. Sugawara, who never gives up, scowled and stared at the notebook. But, to his dismay, his brain seemed to think recounting what happened yesterday was a better thing to do.

It happened at exactly 6:29 pm when he had just checked his watch for the time before he planned to leave the activity room. It was the day that he was on duty for knocking the room again, so he was the last person who left. Picking up his schoolbag, he looked around to check if he had forgotten anything. It was then he heard the loud, swift footsteps outside the door... In the next second, the door was opened violently with a really loud “bang!”, just like what one would see in the TV drama when the police officers were carrying out a raid.

Of course, there were no police officers. The person who did that was Kageyama.

‘Wow! Don’t scare me like that!’ Sugawara chided, putting his hand onto his heart. ‘Did you forget something?’

Kageyama was panting softly, which was a strange scene to see since he had an amazingly high level of stamina. He looked up, with his hand still grabbing the doorknob. ‘No, that’s not it,’ he replied.

Sugawara chuckled a little, being used to the odd behaviour of this particular first year. ‘Why are you here then?’ he asked, leaving out the comment “to practise dashing?”

The tall, indifferent-looking underclassman inhaled deep, answering his question with a loud voice, ‘I like you, Sugawara-san!’

Since the expression on Kageyama’s face was too serious, and he was staring straight into his eyes as usual, Sugawara thought maybe he had misheard him. ‘What did you say?’

Kageyama’s deep blue eyes blinked once. Adjusting his posture, he let go of the doorknob but his gaze never left Sugawara’s. He repeated what he had just said a moment ago, calmly, ‘I like you.’

It was said that when people were telling the truth, they tended to do it twice. They would say it once on impulse, then they would repeat it again with a steady, clear mind.

Sugawara had no idea why the criminal theory he once read from a detective novel would suddenly pop up in his mind at the moment. And he didn’t know how to respond either! After opening and closing his lips several times, all he could manage was to say, ‘Eh? You’re telling this all of a sudden?!’

Seeing the upperclassman’s reaction, Kageyama finally realized that he had just declared something shocking. That’s why he apologized afterward with a slight bow, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Well... I don’t think you need to apologize...’ Sugawara muttered, fidgeting with the edge of his jacket, feeling a little self-conscious suddenly.

‘No, I don’t think I should have said it in such a blunt manner.’

‘....’

‘....’

Neither of the setters knew what else they could have talked about under such awkward circumstances.

Sugawara looked around the room for a while, buying himself some time to think. There were approximately fifty-three questions he wanted to ask. But finally, he settled on asking, ‘When you said “like”, you mean like… this kind of “like”?’ He made a gesture of a heart shape by using both of his hands. Came to think of it, it was quite embarrassing.

Kageyama blushed and nodded.

Again, Sugawara wanted to laugh seeing how he reacted.

He didn’t even feel a bit nervous when he confessed but he is shy now? How slow can he be on things that aren’t related to volleyball?

But Sugawara found this surprisingly endearing.

After a few seconds, Kageyama asked gingerly, ‘Does it bother you?’

Being asked an unexpected question, Sugawara didn’t think before answering, ‘No, not at all.’

Relieved, Kageyama let out a long breath, ‘That’s fine then. I think I should go. Bye.’

With that, he closed the door and left Sugawara all alone again.

‘...’

‘What had just happened?’

--------

Everything remained the same after Sugawara had thought about the incident for the thousandth time. The pen on his hand lost its balance and fell onto the desk.

Sugawara sighed again. Though it wasn’t the first time someone confessed to him, he hadn’t really seen anyone who did it and left without asking for a reply.

So... is it really impossible for me to understand a genius like him?

He wondered.

Actually, there wasn’t anything for him to worry about. Kageyama just told him what he wanted to and then nothing! Nothing had changed at all. The way he greeted Sugawara was the same as usual. The way he behaved during the volleyball practice was also normal... If you look close enough, you would find that he was even more focused than before.  His serve became more accurate and skillful. Maybe that’s the result of feeling the relief of spilling his own secret.

There was only one thing that Sugawara noticed. Whenever Kageyama wasn’t practising, he was constantly looking at him. Even when Sugawara was right in front of him, he would keep staring straight into his eyes without swaying, as if trying to convey something to him. But... that’s what Kageyama was doing every day... right? Hm... After confessing, he didn’t ask for any reply. He didn’t ask Sugawara to go out with him either.

So nothing needs to be changed, right?

But, why did he need to confess then?

Thinking hard, Sugawara tried to think in Kageyama’s way, in his unicellular way.

… I’m in love with Sugawara-san, so I have to tell him about it.

Why did he do it yesterday?

… When should I tell him then? Not sure, just tell him about it right now!

That’s why he ran back to the activity room.

Okay, you have confessed, then what?

… I haven’t thought about it. I just feel like telling him about it.

Alright! That’s the whole story! I don’t need to think in too much depth, right?

Sugawara clenched his hand, congratulating himself on solving a mystery.

Kageyama just wanted to express his feelings. There’s nothing more than that. Just like “I like curry with pork”, “I like milk” or “I like playing volleyball”…

From this deduction, it works the same for “I like Sugawara-san” right?

Regarding Kageyama’s feelings, he could just respond in the same way. He just needed to be straight-forward!

The bell rang. It was time for the lunch break.

“Suga, why do you keep nodding your head?” Sawamura asked, scowling. He had been standing in front of him for a while.

“Ah, I’ve realized something really important.”

“Which is?”

“Keep it simple, stupid,” Sugawara replied. Looking through the window, he saw a person who looked like Kageyama standing in front of the vending machine on the ground floor. Sugawara leaned closer to the glass and squinted. It was him.

“You sometimes say something that I don’t understand,” Sawamura grumbled. “Are you too stressed because you study too much?”

Sugawara stood from his seat abruptly. His chair banged onto the table behind it, making a loud noise.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ve something to do. See ya, Daichi.”

He ran out of the classroom, passing through the corridor, the students roaming around the building and the staircase.

He had no idea why he had to run.

Until he reached the ground floor, he slowed down his pace, trying to steady his quicken breathing.

He was curious.

At that moment, he wanted to know everything about Kagewara, like what he does other than practising volleyball, what he usually does during recess, if he’s awake during class if he drinks other things except milk and water…

I want to ask him about all these, so I ran here.

Sugawara told himself.

The afternoon sunlight was a bit too bright, so bright that he had to squint when it shone directly on him. He walked towards Kageyama, who was sitting on the bench near the garden, drinking a pack of milk.

Did he gain his height by drinking so much milk?

“Hey!”

“Ah, Sugawara-san, good afternoon,” Kageyama greeted him with a slight nod, just like what he did every day.

Sitting next to him, Sugawara studied him for a while, still failed to notice if there was anything unusual about his underclassman

“Kageyama.”

“Yes!”

“You’re weird,” Sugawara grinned, staring at him straight in the eyes. It wasn’t difficult at all after he had understood Kageyama’s way of thinking.

“Eh? Am I?” he replied with a surprised look, voice cracked a bit, squeezing the pack hard.

Sugawara laughed when seeing his reaction, wondering why Kageyama could still stare right back at him when he was flustered.

He could hear the bustling noise of students chatting with one another in the buildings far away. That’s right… normally teenagers like them hang out with their peers during recess or lunch breaks. In Sugawara’s impression, Kageyama is always alone. Even though he saw him with Hinata once in a while, that’s usually when something happens or when they need to get a pass for tests or exams.

“Not having friends” is a great disadvantage for Kageyama. It would hinder his growth, in many aspects.

However, Kageyama himself seemed to be oblivious about this.

He isn’t good at communicating with others. He won’t talk to anyone unless necessary.

But forcing oneself to make friends for the sake of personal growth seems to be a bit insincere…

Sugawara's gaze never left him while he was considering all these. Being stared at for such a long time, even Kageyama started to feel a bit uneasy.

“Sugawara-san?”

Kageyama works really hard. But he doesn’t know that working hard by himself won’t take him too far.

Sugawara first saw him, when Kageyama was playing with his teammates who were wearing the same uniform as him but they weren’t working together, Sugawara had a thought.

When he received Kageyama’s application form to join the team and had the match with Tsukishima, the thought became much clearer…

I want to help Kageyama.

I want to tell him how to work with others.

Even though as a setter, Sugawara knew that he didn’t possess the skills which he did, the thought was still there, calling out to him from time to time.

“What do you think the most important quality of a setter is?” Sugawara asked.

Puzzled by the question that was thrown at him out of the blue, Kageyama frowned. But then he was pursing his lips and thinking hard.

And Sugawara had just realized that Kageyama hadn’t argued with or refused whatever he asked him to do.

“Being skillful isn’t the answer,” Sugawara said, giving out the answer that he most likely would say. “Although it’s very important too for sure.”

Kageyama pouted, “I… I don’t know.”

His honesty was one of the things that Sugawara liked about him, “Do you want to know the answer?”

He nodded earnestly.

“Uikai- sensei, not our current coach, the older one, once told me,” Sugawara told him. “That the best setter needs to understand others really well.”

“Understand others?”

“Right, to know each teammate’s strength and weaknesses, their abilities and potentials. To be able to change the atmosphere of the court and bring steadiness to the team. To trust and to be trusted by each teammate. I guess that’s what he meant.”

Kageyama listened very intently. He wanted to say something but didn’t know what to say.

“That’s exactly what Oikawa has but you don’t, right?”

That seemed to be something that Kagayama didn’t want to admit, but he nodded in the end.

Sugawara remembered that Hinata once said that Kageyama was going to get wrinkles very early since he frowned too often.

The thought made him smile.

“Kageyama, have you heard of the ‘Kiss Principle’?”

“Ki…ki…kiss?!”

The wrinkles disappeared. His eyes widened and gaped, “Sugawara-san, do… do you want to…?”

“No, what are you thinking, idiot?” Sugawara sighed, standing from the bench.

Then, Kageyama looked quite disappointed.

What’s up with him?

Sugawara began to consider how he could improve Kageyama’s communication skills. The replies that he gave were all way too inexpressive. Actually, he didn’t speak much at all!

“Kageyama, you’re going to beat Oikawa.”

The younger setter looked up and saw the bright smile that he saw sometimes in his dreams.

“Because you have me,” Sugawara pointed at himself. “But first you have to improve your communicating skills. You know you suck at talking to others right?” he leaned towards the other setter while asking, looking at those deep blue eyes.

They were close, so close that they could almost feel each other’s breathing, but Kageyama didn’t move his gaze or his posture, “I… how can I improve? Please tell me how to become a better setter, Sugawara-san.”

That’s the right attitude.

Sugawara curved his lips, satisfied. “From now on, you’re going to talk a lot, I mean A LOT, to every single person in the team and try to know as many things about them as you can.”

Getting the instruction, Kageyama didn’t object, instead, he was listening with all his attention.

“Start from me.”

He wanted to know all about Kageyama, and he wanted Kageyama to know everything about him.

Sugawara didn’t know that, until many years later, after Kageyama had kissed him many many times already.

That he had fallen in love with Kageyama from that moment on.

[denymore92]

The Future You (HPDM)

One

-----------------------------------

Darkness.

At the age of five, darkness seemed to be the only companion which Harry had. He held his knees close and curled himself into a ball, just as he did at many other nights. He didn’t quite remember what he did this time that angered his uncle. But the result was always the same, getting yelled at, sometimes beaten and it was always being shoved back into this dark, tiny cupboard.

He sniffed and wiped his face with the oversized sleeve. He wondered why no one loved him.

Because you’re a freak!

A voice in his head “helpfully” supplied.

He held back a sob, shook his head and murmured to himself,

“I wish s’one would love me…”

Of course, he knew he would get no reply. Silence filled the air as usual. It’s so quiet that it’s almost deafening. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and started counting, trying to fall asleep and forget about everything.

Thud!

He raised his head, startled. It seemed that something heavy had landed onto the floor in the cupboard.

“Salazar!” a voice exclaimed. “Where the hell is this place?”

Harry held his breath, didn’t dare move or make any noise. There was someone else in the cupboard with him!

The shadow in the dark began to shift slowly in the other end of the cupboard, which wasn’t that far away from Harry though.

“Ouch!” It appeared that the stranger had bumped his head. It was too dark to see what he looked like. The person’s voice was too low to be a woman, so Harry guessed he was a guy, who then muttered a word that he hadn’t heard of before. Something seemed different, but Harry couldn’t tell what it was.

“That’s much better,” the guy said. “Lumos.”

Suddenly, there was light! Harry covered his mouth with both hands to prevent himself from gasping or screaming or both. The inside of the cupboard appeared to be enlarged a lot.

Has the cupboard become the TARDIS?

As Harry was trying very hard to recall what he could see during those rare times he got to peek at the TV, he caught a glimpse of the appearance of the intruder. He had blonde hair, grey eyes, pale skin, a pointed nose and chin, wearing expensive (but weird)-looking clothes. He was holding a stick and its tip was glowing.

‘Did I fall asleep so quickly?’ Harry thought, still pretending that he wasn’t there.

The blonde guy shone the light around for a few moments as he examined the surroundings. He finally noticed Harry sitting in the corner when the light fell in his direction.

“Wah!” he yelled, backed away a few inches. “Scared the bloody hell out of me.”

Harry blinked, still didn’t remove his hands from his mouth.

The man leaned closer and squinted, “Harry?”

His eyes widened, too shocked to know that the stranger knew who he was. The man did something with the wooden stick, looking shocked when he somehow found out what year it was currently. Then he stared at Harry, appeared to be deep in thoughts.

Didn’t know what he should do, Harry decided he would just ask the first question that came into his mind, “Are you an angel?”

Before the angel burst out laughing, he waved the wooden stick and uttered something like “silence”. “An angel! I should tell Potter about this,” he laughed. “See what his face would be like.”

“Do you know my dad?” Harry asked hopefully. “or his family?”

Then Mr Angel stopped laughing and he didn’t look happy anymore, “I’m a wizard and no, I don’t know your dad.”

Harry deflated, of course he wouldn’t be able to leave this house, even in his dream. He went back to bury his head between his knees, holding himself tight.

“What happened to you hand?” Mr. Not-Angel asked.

Then he remembered why he was shoved into the cupboard this time. He didn’t have enough strength to hold the pan when he was frying the bacon. He dropped it and burnt his hand. It hurt so much at the beginning but it would be automatically healed the next morning. It always did. And he would be called a freak again.

He stayed silent, even if the intruder was merely a stranger, he still didn’t want him to think that he was a freak, like other people did.

Harry began to tremble, just wanted the stranger to go away and so he could sit alone in the darkness again.

“Harry?” the stranger asked. “Are you alright?”

But at least he would call his name properly. His relatives just called him Boy or Freak.

When he didn’t reply, the stranger asked quietly, “Would you like me to heal your hand?”

He looked up, “You would do that for me?”

The blonde frowned at the question, “Of course I would.”

“Who are you?”

“Draco.”

“Why do you know me?”

“Everyone knows you in our world.”

“Your world?” Harry pondered. “What do you mean?”

Draco let out a sigh, “Now, can I heal your hand first?”

Harry felt tears welling up, “Are you angry with me?”

Draco massaged his own left temple, his upper lip twitched a little, “No, I’m not angry, Harry, if you could kindly let me see your injury.”

Relieved but still shivering, Harry tentatively held out his hand, which was red and swollen. Draco winced when he took it, examined it a bit, luckily it wasn’t blistered and the skin wasn’t charred. Draco waved the wooden stick again and uttered, “Episkey.”

His hand was healed within a second!

“It’s like magic!” Harry said in wonder, turning his now perfectly fine hand.

“It is magic,” Draco told him coolly.

“That’s brilliant!” Harry exclaimed, looked up at Draco and smiled. “Draco, you’re so kind. Thank you.”

Draco blushed, looking as if he had swallowed something very bitter or sour. “Er, of course I’m brilliant.” Then he tried to change the topic. “By the way, what did you do before I appeared?”

Harry thought very hard, “I made a wish.”

After hearing the answer, Draco crossed his arm and scoffed, “Of course, Great Harry Potter just made a wish and a miracle just happens. Didn’t even need a…”

“I wished s’one would love me.”

“… wand,” for some reason, Draco blushed even more this time. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Did I do someth’ wrong?” Harry asked in a quiet voice, lowered his head.

Draco shook his head. He asked again, this time in a softer tone, “I mean, why did you need to make such a wish? So many people practically worship you, you have no idea…”

“ ‘cause I’m a freak…” Harry muttered, sobbing quietly. “And I dun deser to be love.”

“Wait…” Draco didn’t know how he should handle a crying child and he suddenly felt a surge of anger boiling inside him. “Who told you this kind of…”

Then Harry curled himself up again, as if he was forbidden to make too much noise when he was crying.

Draco hesitated for a few seconds, then he moved to sit near the little kid. Mimicking what his mum would do when he was little, he threw an arm around Harry and held him close. Harry stiffened but didn’t pull away.

He hadn’t been held in all of his short life. No even once. He didn’t know how he should respond. Chancing a glance up, he saw Draco’s troubled but kind expression. He took out a handkerchief and gently wiped away Harry’s tears and snot.

“Listen, Harry, you aren’t a freak. Though I hate to admit it, you’re a great person and you’re the most powerful and wonderful wizard that I’ve ever met,” he slowly said, embarrassed, struggling to get the words out. “And, don’t ever say that you don’t deserve to be loved. If you ask me whom deserves to live a happy life the most, I want to say it should be me, but the fact is, it should be you.”

“I…” Harry blinked back the tears, didn’t want to make Draco’s handkerchief dirty further. “Am I really loved?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Do you?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you…” It’s a strange question to ask a person whom he had just met an hour ago but Harry couldn’t help but ask. He looked down at his toes, feeling his cheeks heating up. “… love me?”

Draco made a noise which sounded suspiciously like someone being strangled. “E… even Potter didn’t ask me this question this directly!” he spluttered.

Harry really wanted to ask who this “Potter” was but too embarrassed to, so he stayed quiet and went on studying his own toes.

Draco rolled his eyes and admitted defeated, “Fine! Don’t make this face. I do, okay? Satisfied?”

Harry gasped, looking at him with shiny, hopeful eyes. “You love me more than you love Dudley?”

“Who the hell is Dudley?!” Draco spread his hands out, incredulous. “Okay, whatever. I suppose I do,” he added in a bored tone.

Harry didn’t say anything for a while, hands fidgeting with the hem of his overlarge T-shirt.

“What do you want now?” Draco asked, exasperated. “Just spill it. Today I’m feeling generous. Be grateful.”

“Can…” Harry asked, face turned red as a tomato. “Can you hug me again?”

A pause.

When Harry thought he would be rejected, Draco held out his hands, “Come here.”

He hadn’t hugged anyone before and he was nervous. Very slowly, Harry took a deep breath and moved a little closer. Then, a little closer.

“What took you so long?” annoyed, Draco pulled him into light embrace. “Ah, this is tiring.”

Draco was warm and he smelled like fresh herbs. The sound of his heartbeat was so reassuring. He uttered a word which Harry hadn’t heard of, then yawned, “No wonder I’m so sleepy. It’s past midnight already.”

Harry started to feel drowsy too but he managed to ask, “Who’s Potter?”

“You are Potter, silly,” he replied, stroking his tangled hair.

“Is there another Potter?” Harry felt his sense drifting away but he stubbornly needed to know the answer, so he forced himself to stay awake a little longer.

“Ah, that Potter,” Draco said lazily, yawning again.

Harry waited, hoping to hear the answer before he fell asleep entirely.

“That Potter is the future you.”

---------------------------  

To Be Continued

Actually, I've posted the rest in AO3. Leave me a kudo/ comment if you like it:)))))))

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works