Bonjour, mes chers. If you'll refer to the notice posted one week ago on Order of the Phoenix, it's time to show you what we've been working on. We love Time Twister, we really do. It's one of our favorite stories that we've ever crafted, but you see... There's so much more we could do with it. So much to make it better.

As we explained, we re-wrote it because we felt there was too much 'crack'. That doesn't mean we took out all the humor and made it a gritty re-boot like some re-boots. We just did our best to stay more true to the theme of Harry Potter rather than word for word copy.

What we had before? That was merely a rough draft, a sketching of what was to come. What artist leaves their sketchings up when the finished piece is before you?

These are the books you love but told in a new way with new twists and turns. The story is the same, but the path we took to get there is quite different than what you know.

So, just join us one time mes chers. One more time to show what we can do, and how this story is one you'll never regret reading.

Ready?

Let's start.

Chapter One: The Boy Who Forgot To Live

::

It had been... It felt like years. By Draco's count, it was only a couple months ago, but... It still seemed like another lifetime ago. Now, though, people had been rebuilding. They were moving on. Even the twins' - the Weasley's - joke shop was back up and running.

The Second Wizarding War was well and truly over. Good had won, the Death Eaters were all captured and in Azkaban, and the dementors were banished. Everything was as it should be. So why did Draco feel so lost. He wasn't joyful as everyone else that Voldemort had been defeated, or even upset that 'his' side had lost. He just felt... He wasn't sure how to feel. That was why he felt so lost.

It was as if he wasn't sure what to feel, as if all his emotions had been sucked out and he was left with a tangled mess he didn't know how to pick apart. Maybe... Maybe the best thing to do would be to start over. To make things better, somehow. Maybe find Potter and apologize.

Yeah... Yeah, that would be a good start. Especially after that whole mess with Crabbe and the Fiendfyre- God, Crabbe. It still threw Draco off, some days. Waking up and remembering that he was gone. Pansy barely talked to him- They had both been on trial and put on probation. Two former supporters of Voldemort regularly meeting and talking? They'd both be sent to Azkaban without a fair trial faster than they could plead innocent. Pansy had barely gotten a fair trial. She only got away because she never actually involved herself with the Death Eaters. Draco... He still wasn't sure about his trial.

He wasn't sure how he was still walking free in Diagon Alley. Potter had testified for him, of course. That had helped. The bloody 'Savior of the Wizarding World' taking pity on him. God, he needed to figure out what to do. There had to be something to do. Just- At least apologize. Merlin, Blaise wouldn't even talk to him, anymore. No one outright attacked him - probably out of fear - but they certainly didn't show compassion.

It was worse than when he had been a Death Eater. He was completely shunned, shopkeepers kept a sharp eye on him, and Aurors were always 'coincidentally' running into him and trailing after him. It was like they expected him to go crazy and start casting 'Avada Kedavra' on everyone around him. But, no. He only bought potions ingredients for his own cauldron at home, a set of new robes, and new books. Nothing screaming 'Dark Arts.'

It was extremely tiring. They were 'allowing' him to Hogwarts for the eighth year, but...nothing felt right, here. Merlin knew going back to Hogwarts would just cause even more strife and trouble. Students and teachers would be attacking him at every turn, and Potter would probably gladly offer his services.

No... There was no going back to Hogwarts for him. There was no doing anything. No one would ever give him a job, not with the Mark still on his arm - fading, but still there. No one would ever trust him. It was as though everything about this world just made him itch and squirm- It wasn't as though he could leave the Wizarding World. At least here, he had familiarity. He had a small amount of comfort. If he were to go to the Muggle World...

He wouldn't know the first thing about how to survive, and then if any muggles ever caught him using magic... There was nothing for him. In either world. He didn't belong in the Muggle World, and it seemed the Wizarding World no longer had a place for Draco Lucius Malfoy. He was just...stuck. Trapped. There had to be a way to get out. If anyone- Anyone knew, it would be Potter. After all, he'd dropped off the face of the Wizarding World for years.

Which meant he had to find Potter, apologize to him, and beg for him to take mercy and give him some help. That... That wasn't going to be easy. For either of them. Now the real trouble would be to find Potter. Considering his 'popularity' it would be a bit hard to track him down. Potter had been avoiding the public eye as well as Draco had been trying to. Maybe... Maybe his mother would know? At the trial, they'd seemed a bit close. Somehow. Maybe? That may work. Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat down for a pint at the Leaky Cauldron.

Tom, at least, didn't seem to care about him one way or another, just giving him his drink and waiting until he paid to leave him alone. You could always count on the apathetic. He just needed some time to think this all over. Especially before he saw- "Didn't know you were staying here, Malfoy." Fuck. Draco made sure to look everywhere but the seat directly across from him, ignoring the one sitting there.

"You know, there's a point where avoiding looking at me gets a bit obvious." If you just ignore him, Draco, he'll go away. Maybe your other problems will go away, eventually, if you ignore them, too. Yes. That would work. "Malfoy."

"I have a first name, you know." Though he'd been trying to ignore Potter... Being a Malfoy was the worst thing at this point in time. Defending what was left of his honor seemed more important than trying not to acknowledge the fact that Harry bloody Potter was sitting across from him. Draco didn't even need to look to know it was him. The loud mouth that Potter was, he recognized the voice anywhere.

"Alright, then. There's a point where ignoring me gets a bit obvious, Draco." And, wow, no. That warm and amused tone was not- No. That tone was doing things to Draco that he thought was better left unmentioned.

"Apologies. I would think the 'Savior of the Wizarding World' wouldn't want to be caught around a former Death Eater," Draco grumbled quietly, tracing the rim of his glass with his fingertip.

"You know, I really couldn't care less what people think about me," Potter said, the sound of a glass being set down heard. "Thanks. Also, I'm not exactly 'Savior of the Wizarding World' right now."

"You saved it from the Darkest Wizard. That makes you a Savior, Potter." 'Not exactly the Savior right now'. Just what was that idiot on- Merlin, he couldn't believe he wanted to apologize to him.

"Unbelievable," Potter laughed. Laughed. The bastard laughed. "Maybe try looking over at me, Draco." Draco sighed, finally looking over at Potter. Only he wasn't looking at Potter. Instead the younger had dark red hair - darker than a Weasley's - and hazel eyes that were a mix between his usual green and brown. He also wasn't wearing glasses- Was his scar gone, too? "Like I said. I'm not the Savior, right now."

"What the bloody hell did you do," Draco hissed, kicking him under the table. There was a wince from Potter, who swatted his arm with a huff.

"I just used some glamour spells and disguise charms. I don't exactly want to be mobbed for going out and getting a drink."

"You look bloody awful, you smarmy git!" Just his hair alone. It was worse than a Weasley! And then his eyes- No. Nope, no, never. That was all wrong. Just what was this git thinking! The hair was one thing, but how dare he change his eye color!

"Gee, thanks for the compliment," Potter snorted. "Really, I can tell it comes from the heart. Deep felt sentiment, and-" Draco kicked him again in the shin. And maybe one more time for good measure.

"Shut up, Potter." Ugh, he was laughing again. Bastard. Maybe he could get away with casting one or two- Right. The Ministry had taken his wand until he was off probation. Hexes were always harder without wands. Moreson than charms, at least.

"You know, I do have a first name, Draco."

"Yes, and I've heard nothing but your name for years," Draco pointed out, glancing to the front cover of the Daily Prophet someone had open at a nearby table.

"So you should know it, then. What are you doing here, anyways? Shouldn't you be home?" Home. At Malfoy Manor. Where he was pretty much exiled, if not by his father than by himself.

"Shouldn't you be with those Weasleys of yours?" And away from here. Away from him- Oh, right. He was supposed to be apologizing, wasn't he?

"As much as they're my family, I can only take so much of the Weasleys, Draco. Besides, I didn't want to interfere with business too much."

"...I meant to apologize." He really shouldn't like the way that his name rolled off Potter's tongue like sweet honey, smooth and easy.

"Apologize? About what?" Oh, those words did not just come out of Potter's mouth. Draco gave him a look. "Well, I figured you already knew I forgave you for all of that. It's in the past, right?" Draco stared for a moment before shaking his head with a sigh.

"You will never make sense to me." 'Forgave him.' Bullshit. There was no way Potter could ever forgive him for anything he had done.

"Yeah, I've heard that a lot," Potter gave a weak smile, sipping at his drink for a moment. "How've you been, then?"

Draco just barely withheld himself from rolling his eyes at the question. "Aurors follow me to make sure I don't kill anyone and the Ministry has my wand." Oh. Interesting. It seemed Potter hadn't known that, since he was now choking on his drink.

"They what- You were found innocent with probation! They can't just- Just take your wand!"

"I'm on probation, Potter, and I'm formerly a Death Eater. They can do whatever they damn well please."

"That's so stupid," Potter scoffed, shaking his head and looking near disgusted. "I know they're worried about safety but that's just over the line."

"It's still better than Azkaban," Draco muttered, leaning back in his seat. It was a moment before Potter spoke, voice quiet.

"Do you ever wish you could have done it differently? The Battle, the War, Hogwarts? Just... Go back and change it."

"All the time." Go back and change things... That'd be bloody marvelous. Merlin knew he could have changed enough if he had just done a few small things differently. If he hadn't led Crabbe and Goyle to the Room of Requirement, if he hadn't let Death Eaters into the school, if he hadn't taken that bloody Dark Mark. Looking across the street, Draco caught sight of Madame Malkins. Thinking back to that day before first year, he sighed. If he hadn't been a bloody prat to Harry Potter.

Speaking of Potter, it seemed he was checking his pocket watch, frowning. "Shit, knew I was forgetting about something. Sorry, Draco, looks like I have to go. Although I'll enjoy bothering you later."

"I'm sure." Now there was an idea... Going back and changing things.

::

"Hey, did you hear? About Rita Skeeter's new books? She's apparently going to be writing the biography of Harry Potter in his Hogwarts years." Gossip at Flourish and Blotts. How original. Draco rolled his eyes. Why would he care about the biography of Harry Potter at Hogwarts? He'd lived through it.

Really hadn't been that great, either. There was the War, Dumbledore, the whole fight at the Ministry, the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Oh, and then not to forget the Chamber of Secrets and the Philosopher's Stone. That had just been a bundle of laughs.

Now, where was that potion book he needed. It should be on this shelf somewhere... Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickling and internally sighed. He was being watched. Again. Lovely. It wasn't like that was new. People always watched him, especially in shops and the like-

Ah, there was the book. Misshelved, it seemed. Right next to a book on...time turners? Weren't those items you could use to travel back in time? Draco frowned and bit at his lip... Go back and change things... He grabbed both books and headed to the counter, his head held high.

Enduring some rather dirty looks, he didn't collapse until he was in his room at the Leaky Cauldron, books still tightly clutched in his hand. Time turners... Going back and changing things- Could he really do that? Merlin knew he had the knowledge of how to prevent the worst of it. He could prevent people from dying. He could stop himself from torturing people. And all he needed to do...was read this book.

It... It couldn't be that simple, could it? Biting his lip again, Draco glanced to the rather worn book, looking as if it had been bought and returned a dozen times over. There was no possible way it could be this easy. But maybe... Maybe all the answers were right here.

Right. It was just a book, in the end. No point wasting his time debating when he could just open it and start reading.

::

...What did he just read? Oh, sweet Merlin. It was like reading 'Defensive Magical Theory' all over again. Nothing made sense- He was pretty sure none of that had made sense beyond 'time travel magic'. Maybe someone from school would be able to help explain it. Because he was never good at deciphering textbooks.

This wasn't even a textbook it was a mess of horrible amalgamations. No, no, he would definitely need someone from the school. Flitwick, maybe. He had always been good with these things. McGonagall? She was fair, even to the Slytherins. McGonagall would be a safe choice. Absolutely. He should talk to her about it. School would be starting soon. He should probably be able to find her at Hogwarts.

He could just apparate to- Oh, right. Looked like he would be using the floo network to reach Hogsmeade, then. He hoped there weren't any patrolling Aurors that tried to arrest him for 'trespassing' on private grounds. Walking up to the castle, Draco rubbed at his arm while staring at it. Rubble was littered about the lawn, and there were still a few gaping holes in the walls, but... It was still home.

It would always be home, for him. No doubt several others, as well. Sighing, Draco headed across the grounds, skittering around places that would get him seen. He didn't... He didn't want to see anyone but McGonagall, today. At least she wouldn't ban him from the grounds. Hopefully. Draco slowly made his way to the Headmaster- Headmistress' Office. The gargoyle that had many times intimidated him with its bared fangs and ugly face was only reduced to dust and a pile of rocks, though it didn't concern Draco in the slightest. McGonagall was tough. She could handle anything.

Picking his way up the steps, he gently knocked on the door before hearing the familiar voice, "Come in, Mr. Malfoy." Wait. Stepping into the office quietly, Draco carefully kept his gaze away from the portraits of Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

"How did you know it was me?" Maybe it was a Headmaster or Headmistress thing. Always knowing everything before anyone else did. It would have explained a lot about Dumbledore.

"There are hundreds of portraits all throughout these hallways, Mr. Malfoy, and they are very good at relaying information." Setting down her quill, McGonagall looked up with a raised eyebrow. "I take it you're here for a reason, then."

Draco nodded and glanced to the ground. It was a red carpet. Unsurprisingly so, actually, though it appeared to have quite a few moth balls. They should really get someone to clean it. "I was hoping you could tell me about time turners. I recently purchased a book about them, and the information was..."

"Lacking?" There was a shuffle of parchment - the Ministry work she was getting must have been hell. "That doesn't surprise me. Not much was known about them to begin with, considering they were a more recent invention. Even less is known now due to all of them being destroyed a few years back-"

"Actually, there was just too much. I couldn't decipher any of it. A book by a Mister Dunsworth?" Draco scolded himself for not bringing the book along. It would have made the explanation much easier with visible proof. "I can't recall the title."

"Howard Dunsworth?" That had McGonagall pausing, looking a touch startled for a moment. "I wasn't aware he had published a book on the matter... He used to work at the Ministry of Magic making the time turners. He's in retirement now, I believe."

"Perhaps he published it once they were destroyed. Giving information after the information is no longer dangerous." Draco glanced around the room- Ugh. Red and gold. Of course. He tugged the chair out and slid into it, his stiff slacks giving a quiet noise of protest.

"That seems likely." And McGonagall was back to shuffling through paperwork and writing things down. Huh, Draco had never really seen the inside of this office much- Right. Portraits. Don't look at the wall. "I'm rather surprised you came here, instead of trying to get in touch with the author."

"Since it seemed like a textbook, I thought the best people to help would be one of my professors. I'm afraid it wasn't something that could wait until school started." Just don't look her straight in the eye. She could sense fear, of that Draco was certain.

"I'm curious, Mr. Malfoy, why are you so interested in time turners all of a sudden?" Just don't. Look. Up. Draco stared at her desk, looking over her papers.

"It was a subject that happened to catch my interest." Oh, it seemed she was signing off on the student letters that would be going out - a little late in the year, although that could be where wizards and witches were still repairing the ruined castle.

"Indeed." There was a minute of silence between them before McGonagall began her explanation. "Time turners are complicated pieces of magic that only came into use in the last century or so. The Ministry of Magic has kept a firm grasp on their usage since traveling in time can cause much to go wrong. They can only go back, as of now, to relive certain points. The longest one can go back is a year, but then you have a high risk of running into your past self.

"They are difficult and hard to understand and use at the best of times, due to their powerful, and quite frankly, dangerous magic. To the best of my knowledge, however, all time turners were destroyed in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries in 1996. I have yet to hear any talk of them making more, and I have no doubt it will be awhile before they do. Any questions?"

Draco slowly nodded, taking in the information. He sighed and huffed a breath, his hair getting caught in the breeze. He took a moment to glare at his hair for flying away before he finally looked up at McGonagall. Even if she was weary from the war - as they all had been - she still seemed to take it with grace. She was perfectly put together, and just as stern as usual, her hair tied back in a severe bun - though she was without her hat for once. A bit of a strange sight. "Were time turners the only means of travelling back in time, or are there other ways of doing so?" Keep your face clear and calm, Draco. Don't give anything away.

"As far as I know they were the only tested and proven way. There have been other attempts at re-creating the magic, of course, but..." McGonagall trailed off, looking slightly green. And oh, no. Anything that made McGonagall look that bad had not ended well. "Time turners were the only reliable way to travel." Draco slowly nodded, looking to her a bit strangely.

"The only reliable way." Draco picked at his silver cuff link - he never went anywhere without them, really. One of the things his mother had bore into him. A gentleman without cuff links isn't a gentleman at all.

"The only sane way," McGonagall snorted, pulling another letter towards her and signing off on it. "Time travel has been something wizards have been trying to achieve since the time of Merlin, Mr. Malfoy. It's dangerous and unpredictable and it can kill you." Draco frowned, his nose crinkling for a moment. Third year... There had been some scandal in third year-

"Didn't you allow Hermione Granger to use one to go to multiple classes?" The old witch nodded, summoning a new ink pot before speaking.

"Yes, she was approved by the Ministry of Magic and under strict guidelines and rules. She eventually turned it in because the workload proved too much. Even for her." Setting her quill down, McGonagall fixed Draco with a stern look. "I realize you might wish to change things, Draco, but this is not the way."

"You allowed a third year not only to change things, but you allowed a third year a Time Turner for an entire school year," Draco pointed out, reflecting the stern look back to her with his chin lifted. He refused to be treated like a petulant child.

"The devices were all destroyed and as of now there is no safe or reliable way to travel through time," McGonagall went back to her work, a clear dismissal. "If you still have questions I would recommend getting into contact with the author, Howard Dunsworth."

"There was no contact information anywhere on the book," he shot back, looking over the letters. There didn't appear to be more Weasleys, at least. Seven was... Seven was perfect.

"I just know I'm going to regret this." The woman sounded aged and weary as she jotted something down on a spare bit of parchment, handing it over to Draco. "Bring chamomile tea." Draco looked over the spare bit of parchment. The ink, of course, was emerald green. It was the color of ink that McGonagall seemed to always write in. On it was the name Howard Dunsworth, his address, and...two words. 'Time Twister.'

Standing and remaining upright, gaze solely on McGonagall, Draco nodded. "I'll be sure to."

Time Twister, huh... Sounded promising, at least.

::

"Oh, hullo." The man who had answered the door reminded Draco very much of Slughorn, the only difference the head full of bright red hair - bright enough to be a Weasley, really. The wizard was portly and seemed aged enough to retirement, bright brown eyes studying him curiously. "What can I do for you, young man?" Draco looked him over, taking the man in for a moment before nodding and giving a small smile. One that he hoped passed for shy.

"Mr. Dunsworth? I had a couple questions for you." He held out the box of chamomile he'd brought with him. "I have tea." Exactly like Slughorn, it seemed.

"Ah, well. I'd hate to waste good tea," Howard laughed, opening his door further and ushering Draco into the parlor. A flick of his wand had teacups and a tin of biscuits flying to the table. "Now, what kind of questions do you have for me, my boy?"

"I wanted to know what became of the time turners from the battle. I would think, with how well you described the devices, you would be the most well informed on the subject. Am I wrong?" His question was answered with a low chuckle, Howard bustling around the table to prepare their tea. Draco decided to take that as a good sign.

"Another lost soul who wants more time, then? Or perhaps a lost soul who merely wants a second chance... Not many have the urge to seek out such dangerous magic, and it's usually those with nothing to lose that do."

"I-" Draco cut himself off from where he'd been ready to defend himself before his nose crinkled and he gave the man a strange look. "Another?"

"I've had all types visit me," Howard explained, setting a cup down in front of Draco, as well as cream and sugar. "All those who are curious about time magic, and time turners. It's not hard to spot the desperation. Tell me, Draco Malfoy, what do you know of time turners."

Ah. That was a feeling Draco had been growing increasingly used to. The feeling of being cowed. "I've read through your book."

"Then you saw the warning I wrote, about how time magic is dangerous," Howard spoke, voice losing most of it's jovial, upbeat tone. "I almost lost my life inventing time turners, and those are just scratching the surface of what this magic can do."

"You... You invented them." Draco did nothing to hide the awe in his voice, his tea remaining on the table as he stared at the man in front of him. "I honestly didn't expect you to be so..."

"I certainly don't look the type, do I," Howard laughed, the atmosphere in the room lifting by quite an amount at the sound. "I made the first prototype when I was in my twenties. About forty or so years ago. For all of our advances in magic, time magic is still relatively new to us."

Draco was flabbergasted. And it probably was quite obvious on his face. "I thought you'd be older." That got another boisterous laugh, Howard's face bright in delight.

"I think I like you, Draco Malfoy! Quite a few others have been shocked by how young I am, too. We weren't talking about that, though." A grin that was purely Slytherin was aimed at him. "No, no, we were talking about how you want to use a time turner." Draco looked over Howard again, slowly nodding as his brow furrowed in thought.

"Do you know Horace Slughorn?" Nodding, Howard leaned forward to add a few more sugar cubes to his tea.

"He had just started teaching when I went to Hogwarts. Kept in close contact, of course. Bloody good Head of House." Draco slowly nodded. Well. That explained that, then. "Now, I take it you want one to change the outcome of the most recent war?"

Draco thought it over for a moment before shaking his head. "No," he said slowly. He wanted to put it all correctly. "Not the outcome. I just... Some of the casualties deserve to still be alive."

"So you seek to change the outcome of who lives and who dies," Howard stated, rather bluntly. "Those are dangerous things to be playing with, you know. Deciding who to save, who gets to live... That's like playing God."

"I think of it more as trading my own life for theirs." That brought ringing silence to the room, Howard seeming to study him as he sipped at his tea. Draco's was still sitting on the table, untouched.

"You know, no doubt, that the time turners were all destroyed at the Ministry of Magic. That there's no safe and stable way to travel back." Draco nodded, twisting his cuff link on his left wrist, making sure the sleeve was tugged down. He only glanced down to the cup before picking it up to take a small sip.

"I've been made aware." 'No safe and stable way'. McGonagall had said much the same, but... That just meant there were other ways to travel back that weren't as well known.

"Even if you wanted to go back to the war and save lives, who would believe or trust you?" Howard raised an eyebrow, voice perfectly level and even. "You're a Death Eater, and a Malfoy. They would sooner kill you than listen to you."

"I wasn't as a first year," Draco pointed out, eyes narrowed at the man. How dare he.

"Time turners can only safely take you back five hours, and anything else has the chance to kill you. As well, if you went back that far, how would you explain yourself to others? To your past self?"

"Others needn't know my origins." As for his past self... He was a Death Eater. The silence in the room was back, only broken by a biscuit Howard had snapped in half before dipping into his tea.

"Let's have a hypothetical situation. You go back to your early Hogwarts years and you become your past self. How would you deal with the fact everyone who knows you knows a different you. That you'll never see the people you know now again."

"Obviously, the thought of Hogwarts would change my behavior, and many children come back after first year as different people, so it wouldn't be a large leap for others to make." His mother, right now. Pansy. Blaise. Those were the only people in this time he cared for.

"True enough, but you didn't answer the second part," Howard pointed out, dipping the rest of his biscuit. "How would you deal knowing you'd never see your loved ones again. At least, not as you know them."

"Rather well, I'd say, as their number is few," Draco said dryly, restraining himself from rolling his eyes - but only barely. Honestly.

"And now you're left with the fact you're an eleven-year-old child in a world of adults who believe the war is long past." Howard shook his head. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a distant worry, at that point."

"That's untrue. At that point in time, they still feared saying his name. Many were of the mindset that it had been 'too easy.'" Draco set his cup back down, clasping his hands on his knee, crossing it over his leg.

"It would be enough to have them doubt the claims of an eleven-year-old. No one would believe anything you had to say," Howard shook his head. "You would only have the resources you had then. Nothing else."

"That would be enough," Draco argued, trying to withhold the passion in his voice. "I'd know when and how those that shouldn't have died did. I'd be able to stop it. I can save them."

"There's no such thing as a victimless war," Howard spoke, voice cold and hard, so different than what it had been. "You won't be able to save everyone."

"Victimless, no. The Weasley twin? The Triwizard Tournament Hogwarts champion? I could save them. They didn't deserve to die." He wouldn't kill Dumbledore. Dumbledore might not have to die.

"The Tournament was in 1994." The older wizard was now settled back in his chair, looking as if they were having a rather delightful afternoon tea. "You'd have to go back to that year. Further, if no one would be willing to listen or trust you."

"You must not have been noticing I've been saying first year, then, Howard." Draco internally scoffed, turning his head slightly to look around the home. It was...cluttered. Bric-a-brac everywhere, it seemed. Unsightly.

It was a few moments before he noticed Howard was being exceptionally quiet, the wizard looking to be thinking over something very deeply. "You're sure this is what you want. There's no changing this choice once it's made." Draco met the man's eyes. They were a rich brown, and reminded Draco vaguely of hazelnuts.

"Absolutely." There was nothing left for him in this world- in this time. It all felt wrong to him. He needed to fix it. He had one chance, now, and he wasn't going to waste it.

Keeping Draco's gaze, Howard finally broke the contact with a grin. "Alright then, Draco Malfoy... Go say your goodbyes and come back here the day after tomorrow. You want to change things? Be my guest."

"...I'm surprised you aren't arguing further," Draco said as he stood, looking the man over again. He was incredibly similar to Slughorn.

"There's only so much one can do to dissuade someone as stubborn as you seem to be," Howard laughed. "Besides, saving as many lives as one can, even at the cost of their own? Seems a rather noble thing to do." A sudden, confused frown. "You're not a Gryffindor, are you?" Draco scoffed, turning his nose up and tossing his head as he stormed out of the house.

How dare he. Honestly. Him as a Gryffindor? Oh, now that was simply a riot. No, no, he was doing this purely of his own agenda. Now all that was left was to tell everyone he would be... Would be going on a trip.

A very, very long one.

It's only just beginning.