A/N: Hey there! This is part of a series! The first fic is 'Draco Malfoy and the Resurrection Stone.' It is strongly recommended that you read that before you read this fic! Don't worry, I'll wait.

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Okay! Now that you're all caught up, let's get to the sequel! Enjoy! ~Kas


'Dear Draco,

You know, if you keep sending me sweets and 'food supplies', I don't think I'll be able to keep them hidden for much longer. It's only a matter of time before Dudley sniffs them out. Also, lay back on sending so much at once? Merlin could barely make it to the perch once he dropped off the package, the poor thing.

You said your parents are throwing you a ball for your birthday this year, right? I'm sorry I couldn't make it, but I'm enclosing my gift here. I don't exactly have the ability to get anything magical due to where I am, but hopefully this is something you might like? I'm going crazy here at the Dursleys, but your letters are keeping me sane, at least. Especially since I seem to be even more dangerous, what with actually knowing about magic now.

I can't think of much new information to tell you. Only that nothing very interesting is going on and I'm stuck with the muggles for another few months. It won't be too long until we can meet again, though, and that thought is definitely keeping me going.

I'll see you soon, and again, Happy Birthday!

Your Best Friend,

Harry'

Draco smiled fondly, thumbing the parchment before rolling it back up and setting it aside in favor of the present wrapped in a dull green, with a silver bow on the top. Perfect. He tugged it over, and shook and rattled it before inspecting the packaging as best as possible. No indentations... Nothing that seemed to bubble out. Just a perfect box. It was too perfect.

Tearing the paper to shreds - although saving the bow and tucking it away - Draco tugged open the box and flipped it upside down. Out tumbled a thick, hardcover book. Ridiculous child, Harry was. He could have just wrapped the book, honestly. Mm... But then Draco would have known it was a book, so he had to give Harry some credit, he supposed. Turning the book over to the front cover, he saw it was a familiar shade of green, and seemed styled much like their school books.

On the front, however, was the word 'Chemistry'. That... That was a muggle thing, right? Hm... Well. Part of this whole 'experience' was trying new things. He could give it a go, he supposed.

That was how his father found him hanging upside-down off his bed, later, devouring the book with his eyes wide. Draco only looked up - down? - the third time his father cleared his throat, "Did you forget about the ball tonight? Your guests started arriving not too long ago."

"The...ball?" Draco tilted his head, frowning. "What ball?" And, oh. That was not a good look that his father gave him. Actually, now that he thought about it, Harry had mentioned a ball too, in his letter.

"The ball for your birthday that we decided to throw once you arrived home, due to being in the hosptial for your actual birthday. The one you and your mother have been planning for a week. The one you're now late to."

Draco gasped, launching himself up. "I nearly forgot!" He had to stop immediately as the blood went rushing from his head, and his vision went black for a moment. When he came back to himself, he felt a hand on his back that was keeping him from toppling over.

"Perhaps not become unconscious for this one. Do you have an outfit ready, or would you like one of the elves to help you get dressed?"

Draco waved his hand. "It happens all the time. And yes, I've had an outfit picked out for a week," Draco reassured, scrambling for his closet and nearly slipping to the floor a couple times. Only because they'd been just waxed. Of course.

"Very well, try to get dressed within the hour," Lucius 'warned', the amusement not hard to see in his eyes. "You know how your friends get when they're kept waiting. Especially the Parkinson girl."

"Yes, father," Draco called.

It was twenty minutes later that he ran to the ballroom, only just stopping himself as he neared the doors. Composing himself, Draco stood up straight and combed his hair back, walking in with all the grace and charm of his mother. It was slightly ruined when Pansy tackled him in a hug, very nearly knocking them to the floor, "Draco! It's been so long since I've seen you!"

"Pansy," Draco laughed, hugging her back just as tightly. "It's been a week. You can't have missed me too terribly." Although it was nice to see her again, and Blaise as well, judging by the arm thrown around his shoulder.

"A week to you two is like a year, Draco, come on now," Blaise grinned, tugging at Draco's jacket collar. "What took you so long, anyways? You're usually not this late when it comes to your birthday parties."

Draco gave a weak grin. "I got distracted by a new book." Really, muggle potions were so interesting. They even called it by a different name! He might have to take Muggle Studies this time, just so he could look more into this.

"Please, darling, don't become another Blaise," Pansy whined, still hanging off of Draco. "You should instead come dance with me so we can show everyone up."

"Alright, alright," Draco laughed, holding a hand out to her. "Shall we?" Looking to Blaise, he laughed. "Don't worry! I'll be back for you, Blaise!" The exaggerated eyeroll was a gift, truly. As was Pansy's wide smile as she pulled them out onto the dance floor.

"So, you and your Gryffindors up to anything for next year? I think you'll have a hard time beating what you got up to over this last year."

"Oh, I've got a good feeling," he hummed. Every year with Harry Potter was an experience. Besides, this year was supposed to be that whole 'Heir of Slytherin' business... He would need to start looking into that. He didn't remember much, and what he did had been hushed up by the school.

"Any chance you can get away from your Gryffindors here and there and spend more time with us," Pansy pouted, looking adorably childish. "I miss you, Drakey."

Draco gave her a smile. "I miss you too, but Harry is my friend, too. It's hard, trying to divide up my time. Especially since we barely have classes with each other, Pansy."

"I know, I know," Pansy sighed, smiling a bit as Draco twirled her in a spin. "Why don't you bring Harry with you, then? I like him. He seems nice... He's good for you. Plus, he acts like a Slytherin would."

"Yes, but..." Draco sighed. "He's not pureblood." And that was what it all came down to, in Slytherin. If you weren't a pureblood, you pretended you were. Much like Blaise had done - and was probably doing here, too.

"No, he's not... But he's Harry Potter, and anyone smart will know it'd pay to be nice to him until we all see what happens in the future. Besides, if you don't spend time with us, we'll just have to spend time with you. Can you imagine how upset Gryffindors will be to have even more snakes at their table?"

Draco smirked and gave a small nod. "Sounds perfect. We could all start studying together. Blaise and Granger could at least do with having someone to match them."

"That doesn't sound too bad... But only if I get to kidnap Weasley and play with him for a bit. He looks to be so much fun to play with," Pansy grinned and ah, yes. Here was the start of Pansy's behavior when it came to...conquesting.

His smirk widened as he twirled her again before ending the dance. "Which one?"

"Oh, darling," Pansy purred, smile and gaze absolutely wicked. "Why should I have to choose?"

"That's my girl," he said with a grin before turning over towards Blaise. "Well? Get over here!"

"I regret being friends with you two," Blaise sighed, trudging over anyways, arms crossed as he stared at them. "This was cute when we were little, but not so much now that we're getting older."

"And what's so wrong with it, now?" Draco smiled, holding his hand out for Blaise. "I'll let you lead, this time." Heh, Blaise didn't stand a chance. And really, dancing with someone else as the lead was fun, here and there.

"You're a manipulative creature of darkness and destruction."

"Come on, then." Draco caught the glances that Blaise shot him, only a couple every now and then. Wow. How had it taken him so long, before, to realize how bent he was? Although, he hadn't really had thoughts on his love life when he was this young.

"Horrible," Blaise repeated, sweeping Draco up into a dance next. "We really do miss you, you know. Slytherin isn't the same without a Malfoy in it."

"I know," Draco sighed. "You know I'm still a Slytherin, though. No matter what some tattered old rag says. I'll bleed green and silver until the day I die."

"Oh trust me, we all know," Blaise chuckled, shaking his head. "Still, try to spend a bit more time with us this year? Pans is driving me up the wall with all her gossip, and Vince and Theo... They've been distant, lately. I think their fathers are cracking down on them. Greg seems a bit lost from it, as well."

"Right. How do you feel about study groups with a few Gryffindors?" Tilting his head, Blaise gave a small nod before smirking.

"Sounds fun. Think we can break a few people before the Christmas hols?"

"Only a few? Blaise. Give me some credit." Draco smirked, looking far too amused.

"You're right. We can get all the first years."

Draco couldn't remember when he'd laughed so much.

::

"...Dobby."

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"I'm scared." Draco was curled tightly around his pillow, hugging it to his chest. His room was dark, nothing but beams of moonlight shining down, showing flashes of Dobby, who was tidying up his room. Normally Draco would be loathe to show any fear, let alone admit to it, but Dobby... Dobby had been one of the elves that near raised him at times.

"What is Master Draco being scared of?" Dobby asked quietly, round green eyes staring at Draco through the darkness.

"Harry, he- He's in danger, at Hogwarts. Every year, he goes there, and... I'm scared something's going to happen to him." Draco curled further around his pillow before quickly rising and stumbling out of the room. He couldn't just lie there... He needed to be doing something productive!

He vaguely heard Dobby say his name but brushed it off, he just... He couldn't handle talking about this right now. He just needed to- To read something. Research. Try to find out more about this Heir before the year started, like he should have done with the Philosopher's Stone.

It seemed like hours before Draco found a small, leather-bound book. He opened it, where the first page said prominently 'This Diary is the sole property of Tom Marvelo Riddle.' A flip through showed the date Jan 1 on the first page, and nothing else written beyond that. A diary... Wasn't a bad idea. He could write down everything he was thinking - everything about when he'd come from - and tell no one.

Tucking the diary away to sneak back to his room, Draco decided to write in it later today, once he could put his thoughts in order. If nothing else, he could write everything down and then destroy the diary. That way no one would find it and know. For now, though, maybe he should stop by the kitchen... Dobby usually dabbled in making sweets, from time to time.

Once he made a quick trip to the kitchen, his stomach full with sweets, Draco made his way back to his room. He curled up to his pillow once again, wrapping tightly around it as he began to drift. It was much easier where he was so exhausted and full, his thoughts drifting into silence, the last thing on his mind the thought of Harry, and how'd he keep him safe this year. He knew the child would be fine without him there, but... With Draco, there were moments where he could give Harry his childhood back, and that was worth all of this mess.

It was after breakfast, the next morning, that Draco curled up on his bed with the diary, grabbing his quill. Tapping the tip to his lip for a moment, Draco finally dipped it into an inkpot and began writing. 'My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy and I am, technically, nineteen years of age as of this past June. Although I'm the only one to know that, to everyone else, I am a twelve-year-old boy who hasn't even begun his second year at Hogwarts. Time travel, I've found, can make things very complicated. I chose to come back to my first year and change things, help make up for my mistakes, but I seem to have misjudged how difficult it would be.

Not only do I seem unable to change anything due to my 'age', but I also seem to be feeling more and more lost. There's so much I don't know of what's about to happen. The Heir of Slytherin is meant to come back this year, along with the Chamber of Secrets. Facing Voldemort and stopping him from getting the Philosopher's Stone was bad enough, but this? I have no idea how I'm supposed to stop these things, how I'm supposed to help the boy who's destined to win the Second Wizarding War and defeat the greatest evil in history. I don't even know if I'm really meant to be here, anymore... All I know is that I have a job to do, and I feel like I'm failing.' Draco sighed, leaving the diary open so that the words could dry. He watched the window with a small smile. It had felt nice, to get all of that out. Just get out everything negative he'd been thinking, so he could focus on the positive.

Glancing back, the pages were completely blank, not a drop of ink to be seen anywhere. Flipping to the next page, and a bit further on, there was still nothing. Just blank pages like it had never been touched. Draco frowned, picking up the quill and writing again, 'My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy.' The words remained, shimmering for a moment, before fading away to nothing.

This time, however, words of a different colored ink shimmered back. 'Hello, Draco. My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

Draco's breath caught and he immediately looked around the room. 'Who are you? Where are you? By what means are you communicating with me? I don't appreciate being fooled.' Tom Riddle... Where did that name sound so familiar?

'I'm sorry if I gave off the impression of fooling you, I merely can't write when you are. A quirk of this diary. As for where I am, well, I'm rather afraid that I'm not truly alive. This diary is... I suppose you could say it's a piece of me. I recorded my memories and thoughts of when I was still in Hogwarts myself. It was a bit of an extra credit project, as well as my curiosity on if I could do it. Rest assured, Draco, I can tell no one any of your secrets.'

'Is that so? Then what house were you in?' Really, it would tell quite a bit. Although... Maybe it would be nice to actually talk to someone about all of this. Someone who couldn't tell his secrets. A piece of him...?

'Slytherin, of course. I was in my sixth year when I made this book, and prefect at the time. And you? What house were you placed in?'

'Hah! That proves I can't trust you! All Slytherins have a price!' Tried to pull one over on him. Well, not today. Not this Malfoy, thank you very much.

'Gryffindor, then. That explains your wisdom of traveling back in time to 'change things', as you said.'

'Pull the other one. I'm Slytherin, through and through. That's how I know these things.'

'I'm sure. It sounds completely Slytherin to travel back in time, risk everything, and go through seven years of your life all over again in order to help in a war whose outcome won't change.'

'Alright, then. Have you found a way to travel back multiple years, 'Ambitious Cunning Slytherin.'' Draco only gave a moment before he was writing, again. 'Thought not. Besides. I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys are Slytherin.'

'I can't say you're wrong. In my time, I knew an Abraxus Malfoy. He and his family - immediate and extended alike - were all in the house. Not a bad fellow, when he wasn't stirring up trouble with first years.'

'I...believe you're speaking of my grandfather. Strange. You certainly don't sound your age.' And Draco was an expert at finding people who didn't sound their age. He had first-hand experience, after all.

'I did make this diary when I was sixteen. Although I might be quite old by your standards, my mind and manner are preserved at the age I was when making this.'

'How interesting. You sound like a second year.' Draco smirked, far too pleased with himself.

'Ah, so you were hiding your true house! I had no idea I was speaking with a Hufflepuff. With that poor humor, there's nothing else you could be.'

'How dare you! I will not allow myself to be compared to a house of tittering ninnies, preaching their love to the heavens!'

It went on much like this for Draco wasn't sure how long. Hours, at the very least, seeing as he was called down for lunch after what only felt like a short while. It... It really was nice. To be able to talk with someone - of sorts - about everything that was going on. Even if most of that talking was cleverly insulting each other back and forth. 'I still don't trust you,' Draco wrote with a quiet hum as he began to set the book up.

'You would be a poor Slytherin if you did. My offer still stands, however. As long as you give this book to no one, then I'll never be able to tell of your secrets. It's a rather altruistic move, but... I'd be happy to offer advice if needed. It is my job as prefect to help younger Slytherins.'

'We'll see.' Draco closed the book with a smirk, rising and heading down to the dining hall. Finally, someone on his level of wit! Someone who couldn't tell anyone else his secrets!

It was nice to have Harry know a thing or two, but Harry played too big a part to tell him everything. With this diary, he could tell all his secrets and still be safe. It... It was perfect.