ferretface_git | Timeloop

Timeloop

It happened so quickly. The blink of an eye, it couldn't have been anything but magic. When he closed his eyes, he was sitting in the sun, the ocean stretched out ahead of him. When he opened them, he was in a dimly lit room, vast and chilled, a warmthless fire flickering in a grey stone hearth to his left. He sat regally in a wingback chair, plush velvet cushions cradling him, soft in contrast to the stiff robes he wore.

"Draco, come here."

This night was five years behind him, but he remembered it well. Down to the very last detail. His last night at Malfoy Manor. His last night with magic. His mother and father stood there, looking at him expectantly, and it was as if no time had passed at all. He rose, crossing the room in long, purposeful strides, going to great pains not to give away the excitement threatening to tear him to pieces. In his hand, was a wand, and he could feel the power in it. An extension of himself. Oh, how he'd missed it.

All three of them stood with their backs to the hearth, faces tipped toward the ground, but he knew, even without looking, that Greyback was right. He'd caught Harry Potter. The Dark Lord would be so pleased.

Draco paused, thought about denying it all over again. Defying his parents. Not out of fear this time. No, these were entirely different reasons.

She was already in the basement. Had been, for weeks. He knew that, too.

"Yes. That's them. That's Harry Potter," he heard himself say, looking straight into Potter's swollen eyes, a sneer of triumph on his face. He'd won. He'd come home, finally, and for once, he'd put himself in the Dark Lord's good graces. He would be a legend. He would be the one to deliver Potter to his executioner.

But then... The world went white.

~~~

He was sitting in a chair. Wingback, flickering fire, everything the same as before, and he hissed out a curse, ignoring the displeased looks of his parents.

"Draco? Did you not hear your mother? Come here," Lucius barked, and Draco stood, mind whirring -- Cursing the island. Cursing his parents. Cursing the Dark Lord. Cursing Luna Lovegood with every fiber of his being. What the bloody hell was he doing here? What kind of cruel joke could this have possibly been?

"I can't be sure," he answered simply, then he turned on his heel and marched out, despite the protest of his father. His mother's shrieking voice.

He didn't make it very far.

~~~

Five times. Five times the world went white and he found himself back in that chair. Five times too bloody many.

"Draco, come here."

He rose, he went through the motions of that night. No, he couldn't be sure. Yes, maybe that was Granger. Yes, that was Arthur Weasley's son. Then, his Aunt was sweeping into the room and he suppressed a shiver, watching distantly as she fought with Greyback and his men, as she'd done before.

"If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me," he heard her say, and he grabbed both men by the arms, shoving them toward the door, his wand at their backs. The first two times this played out, he'd killed them in the garden, a flash of green and their dead and sightless eyes staring up at him from the cobblestone. This time, he shoved them into the yard and left them there for his Aunt to deal with.

And then, he slipped back inside, marching quietly toward the cellar and for the first time since all this had begun, he tapped the heavy door with his wand.

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"Ron, shut up," Luna finally says, but it's more of a sob. "Harry, you don't understand, he's--" What is he, really? What can she say here? She takes in a deep, trembling breath, again trying to climb to her feet, "We just need to get out, all of us do."

But that red-headed idiot had already taken off out the open door, barreling up the stairs at break-neck speed and Draco shoved Potter off him with all his might, scrambling to point his wand in Weasley's direction and shout Stupefy!

But it was too late. They'd heard, he could hear their curious voices upstairs, hear their footsteps, and he squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the world to spin on it's axis all over again.

~~~

"Bloody fucking hell!" he roared, bursting from his chair and standing there panting, flushed and immeasurably angry, there in his parents' drawing room.

"Draco, what on earth is the matter?" his mother demanded coldly, and he ignored the pierce of his father's eyes boring into him. "Nothing. I just want these vermin out of our home," he said, pointing a pale finger toward Greyback's men, which seemed to appease them.

It took forever for him to get his chance, but this time, he knew what he had to do. Or good Lord, he hoped so.

Marching down the steps, he unlocked the door and immediately cast a binding curse on Weasley, effectively immobilizing him for the time being.

Blissful silence.

Potter was on his feet, free of his ropes, but Draco brushed past him as if he wasn't there. Crouching in front of Luna, he said, loudly enough that they could all hear but with his eyes on Luna alone, "I need you to listen to me, can you do that?"

Her eyes are still rimmed with pink, but he's been down here more than once, and she thinks maybe he means it. Luna nods, her mouth shutting and reaches so that she can touch his hands. She needs to touch his hands.

The world refocuses for her, and there's Draco's steely eyes to hold. Another nod.

"We can't all leave without Granger, you know that, don't you? It'll start all over again," he tells her, glancing at Potter watching them like the slack-jawed fool that he was and rolling his eyes.

God, he hated himself for doing this. Truly.

"You're taking this," he said through gritted teeth, getting to his feet and reluctantly pushing his wand into Potter's hand. "You and Weasley get upstairs, get your little Mudblood witch and get out of here."

This more than anything leaves her thunderstruck, shook to her core. The idea seeps into mind, that somehow they're being tested-- that Draco's being tested. It's such a feverish, floating thought that she just thinks it for a moment.

"Then we need to take the rest, too."

She wants him to pass, so badly.

"All right, all right," he agreed dismissively, he and Potter locked in a staring match to end all staring matches. With the wand, Potter was now in complete control, which Draco Malfoy hated with every fiber of his being.

"How can we trust you?" Potter demanded, his face still swollen hideously but gradually returning to that face Draco had known and hated for so long.

"I gave you my wand, Potter. What more could you possibly need?" he asked, on the edge of laughing, but then Potter ended the binding curse and Ron was on his feet and tugging Potter toward the door.

Then there was a pop, a whoosh, and a beady-eyed House Elf peering up at them. Ahead of schedule.

"They'll be coming for the goblin soon. Let's go."

Luna reaches out and takes Draco's hand, an act just as frightening here as venturing out into the gray light. "You're sure," she says, her eyes even beginning to sparkle as they hadn't done since her time with the madwoman. "Draco--"

But then it's time, and they're leaving.

Overhead, her screams were loud enough to rattle the masonry, the sound of Potter and Weasley's feet echoing on the stairs, but the last thing he heard was his mother's voice drifting down from the drawing room --

Where's Draco?

Then the world tilted, the bottom dropping out of his stomach, and he expected to find himself sitting in that armchair in the drawing room. He expected to never leave that horrible place.

But instead, his feet were planted firmly on the ground. Sinking into dewy grass, the smell of the ocean filling his nose. They were a mismatched band of misfits. The wand maker, Dean Thomas and the goblin sprawled out at their feet, and standing in the middle was Draco Malfoy with Loony Luna Lovegood's hand held in his.

The House Elf shouted suddenly, "Must go save Harry Potter!" and then disappeared with a pop.

"Oh!" cries out Luna, her knees buckling again, half-asleep, and she clings to his hand more tightly. "This must be-- near Shell Cottage." She breathes in the ocean air, and perhaps the most telling thing is that it smells like the Island. Like home.

She turns to Draco, silvery eyes brilliant with joy and pride in him, and she doesn't care if he laughs at her for it, but at this moment it's Draco filling her eyes and heart.

"I knew you could," she whispers, and then glances around. "There are others here," she suddenly says, her bright face falling. "I shouldn't grab you so."

He moved to catch her on instinct, an arm slipping around her back and pulling her close. Looking down at her, he could feel himself literally shrinking away from that joyful glint in her eye, because it was something he didn't deserve and certainly didn't want, but as for the rest of it?

Draco rolled his eyes and said, "I really couldn't give a toss who's here," because none of them mattered. This place didn't matter. He should have been so happy, so grateful to have his magic back. He should have never wanted to lose it again. But all he could feel in that moment was relief, to finally be out of that cellar and away from his mother and father's cold, frantic eyes.

Luna laughs, because that's exactly what he should say, and just because she thinks she might get away with it, she says, "That was the bravest thing I've ever seen, you defying them all." She giggles again, and before the rest really get back, she stands up on the tip of her toes and whispers into his ear, "Far braver than Harry. He just got captured and stumbled free. You defied Lucius and Bellatrix and them all."

"I slunk down some stairs when they were too distracted bickering at each other. I'm not entirely sure that counts as bravery," he muttered, rolling his eyes again, and refusing to accept that it actually felt good to hear those things. He knew it wasn't true, he knew Luna was being Luna and that Harry Potter was likely facing off with all of them, with one single wand, to save his friends, but still...

It was nice to hear.

"It does," Luna says softly, and she dares, here with just the wind in the grass, to wrap her skinny arms around him. Just for a moment, she thinks, cheek against his shoulder. "It counts, Draco," she says, her voice as soft as a sigh.

"Oh, shut up," he muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically, and later, he would insist he only kissed her then to keep her quiet, but even he knew it was a lie.

It was unfortunate that the moment his lips touched hers, the air around them changed, and with a crack, Dobby had returned with precious Harry Potter and his band of misfits.

Luna doesn't mind, doesn't pull away until the first cries of protest reach her ears-- Ronald, she thinks, perhaps reacting a bit strongly-- and she turns, hand going for a wand that's not there, just in case.

"Be quiet, Ronald," she says instead, warningly, and her fists curl at her sides. "Don't speak like that."

Before he had time to even role his eyes, he was being grabbed by the collar, shoved away roughly, and he growled, "Didn't we already go over this?" moments before Harry Potter's fist slammed toward his face.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," he shouted, stumbling backward, but then the world tilted, flared a blinding white.

Oh, Lord. Not again, he thought, but instead of finding himself sitting in that regal chair in his parent's drawing room, he was standing in the middle of the jungle, a mosquito buzzing annoyingly about his face and those familiar birds screaming overhead. Wildly, he thought I'm home before he could stop himself.

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