A Time to Turn Back
Summary: What if Draco ended up in the past, in the body of Sirius Black when he was in fifth year at Hogwarts? What if a 5th year Sirius was transported in the future into the form of Draco Malfoy? What if Sirius found out that he was going to spend 13 long years in Azbakazan, that his best friend and his wife would be murdered, and one of his closest friends would betray him? What if Draco started to have feelings for the mother of his most hated enemy? Can they ever go back…and do they even want to return?
Disclaimer: If Harry Potter was mine I'd write all the books about Draco Malfoy, but then it wouldn't be a Harry Potter series. But alas, I fall short of the necessary requirements, so the world has to read about the world centering around Harry Potter, not Draco's. Oh, well.
Chapter 1: Foreign Wake-Up Calls
Draco blinked at the sunlight filtering in from a window above his head. He rolled over, so his face was buried in a pillow, groaning. His head ached, like he'd been hit by a house. Or a hex.
"You'd better get up if you don't want to be late for breakfast."
"I'm getting up," snapped Draco, but he didn't move. Until someone snatched the blankets off the bed.
He rolled his eyes. "You didn't have to do that." He turned over on his back to see the person who had so rudely disturbed his beauty sleep.
The person standing there was definitely not Crabbe. Or Goyle.
He looked an awful lot like Harry Potter.
Draco's mind went into double time. He jumped out of his bed, snatching up a wand, which definitely was not his, but pointed it directly at Harry. "Potter," he stated through gritted teeth, "what the hell are you doing here?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "I don't know…maybe because this is my dormitory!" He gestured to a bed behind him.
For the first time Draco realized that he was not longer in the Slytherin Dormitories. The floors weren't stone. They were wood. The walls were bright. The windows plentiful. Gryffndor Dorms. How could he have gotten into Gryffndor dorms?
"Well it looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."
Draco whirled around to see a thin boy standing next to a plump one. The thin boy was bale with scraggly blond hair. The plump one had chubby cheeks and brown hair that he had attempted to comb, but hadn't done a very good job.
"Yeah, what's with you? You've been so jumpy lately!" exclaimed the plump boy, gesturing towards Draco who was trying desperately to draw names to the faces of these Gryffndor boys. It definitely wasn't Neville standing before him. Neville would have been cowering behind Weasley and Potter. Not openly questioning him.
"Oh, he's just in a bad mood now that I'm captain of the Quidditch team." Draco turned back to look at a very triumphant Harry, who gave him a mock grin before tossing his black hair back and for a split second….giving Draco a clear view of his forehead.
"What happened to your scar?" asked Draco. The forehead was blemish-less; not a scratch tarnished it.
"Oh that one you give me the other day?" Harry pulled up the sleeve of his robes to reveal a thin jagged line running up his arm. "See it's still there."
Draco's eyes were darting back and forth between Harry's forehead and his arm. He swallowed hard. That's when the door of the dorm swung open to reveal an agitated girl.
"Breakfast is going to be over if you guys don't hurry up!" she snapped, folding her arms.
"You really shouldn't come barging in like that," stated Harry, smiling at the redhead. "What if we were changing?"
She shrugged. "Well that would have been your problem, not mine." She turned to Draco. "You're not even dressed yet!"
But Draco wasn't listening. His eyes were focused on a mirror hung over a dresser. He could see the reflections of the redhead, of Harry, of the plump boy, and of the shaggy blond one. But his…wasn't there. Draco stepped towards the mirror until he was face to face with it. The four companions were staring at him from behind with puzzlement.
The reflection he was looking at had blond hair, like his, although it was not silvery, but dark filled with hightlights from the sun. His pale face had been replaced with a tanned one with a few freckles left over from the summer sprinkled over his nose. And his eyes were no longer gray, but a bright shade of blue.
Draco spun away from the reflection. "What happened to me?"
Harry just laughed. "Really, Sirius, calm down. We all know you're not a morning person."
Sirius.
Sirius.
He was in another person's body. But what was this…some sort of alternate universe where he was friends with Harry Potter? And Potter didn't even have his famed scar? No scar…Draco glanced at the boy who was trying to herd the redhead out of the room. "Oh, leave will you? We'll meet you at breakfast!"
As Harry shut the door practically in the girl's face, he whirled around, and Draco noticed something very odd. Harry's eyes were not green. Not even a flicker of the shade.
They were dark brown.
"Sirius, what's wrong? You look pale…are you feeling okay?" Draco backed up against the wall. The trio approached him cautiously. "Padfoot?"
Draco glanced to his right. There sitting on a night table was a little calendar. October 8. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Well at least it was the correct date. Then his eyes settled on four numbers written to the right. 1975.
Malfoys don't faint, or pass out. Whatever made Draco close his eyes and fall into a pit of blackness must have been from lack of sleep, or that headache that still pounded his cerebellum.
****************************************
Sirius had slid out of bed long ago, had grabbed some robes, and in the morning daze he was always in, he had headed mindlessly to the showers, as usual trusting his own instinct to guide him. But he had forgotten the password, and it wasn't until a bulky boy informed him that it was Dragon's Tooth that the Knight blocking the passage saluted him before somersaulting out of the way.
Sirius stepped in, casting aside his clothes to wake-up with a refreshing hot shower. After the water streamed down on him for a full 15 minutes (he'd always been one for long showers) he was able to think straight and see everything in focus. He had never been a morning person.
'That's funny…they must have remodeled the showers. Hmmm…I wonder how they could redo them in a whole day.' Thinking that it had to be done with magic, he absent-mindedly reached for a soap bar and began scrubbing away. It didn't take long for the soap to slip out of his hands and for him to nearly fall on his face from almost sliding on it.
Sirius stared in horror at his pale arms. What had happened to that summer's tan he had worked so hard on just a month ago? Tans don't disappear into thin air…do they?
And his leg didn't have that scar from when he and James had been fighting the other day, as Prongs and Padfoot of course. Instead that was a small burn on his right arm that he swore wasn't there yesterday.
With an increased terror, Sirius turned to switch off the faucets, but at first gawked at their snake shape. He snatched up his towel and leaped out of the shower. Thankfully, no one else was in the bathrooms.
He stepped up to the fogged mirror, reaching out with a trembling (and very pale, he noted with disgust) hand, to wipe away the condensation.
Gray.
That's the first thing he noticed. Gray eyes. And blond hair. But it wasn't his blond hair. It was too light and silvery. He hadn't had those prominent cheekbones yesterday. And he had to be at least a full three inches shorter.
Oh, Merlin. He was shrinking. Maybe it was some sort of mixed up age potion. He was getting younger. But that didn't make sense either. He had never in his entire life had gray eyes. Not even when he was a baby.
"What's going on?" he breathed, staring at his reflection. But no one answered him. Gray eyes simply stared ominously back. Who was this person he was looking at? It reminded him, in a vaguely familiar way of…but he shook away the thought.
Sirius was so lost in thought that he didn't see the person approaching him from behind in the mirror where droplets of water dripped down, ruining the circle of visibility his hand had created. It wasn't until he felt two arms snake around his waist that he realized he had lost his privacy in the secluded bathroom.
He twirled around so he was face to face with a blond girl he didn't recognize donned in silk pajamas, but she seemed to know him…and rather well. Sirius found himself involuntarily tightening his grip on the towel.
"Hey…you're up early." She flashed him a smile, showing off a set of white, pearly teeth before giving him a once over, mildly confused. "Crabbe said he saw you wandering into the bathrooms and you never take showers in the morning…is anything wrong?"
"I don't take showers in the morning!" Sirius spoke merely out of impulse. How could a person live without a proper shower to start the day off with?
The girl tossed her blond hair over her shoulder. "Yea…you say it's bad for your hair. Some shit about how if you take it at night, it allows all the proper nutrients and oils to replenish themselves, or-" She stopped to step closer to him (if that was possible).
"Draco…" she began slowly, (Draco- what kind of name is that? thought Sirius), "are you sure you're okay? It isn't-" She raised a well-plucked eyebrow at him expectantly.
"Isn't what?"
"You know what I'm talking about," muttered the girl angrily, shoving him away at his dumb-founded expression. Sirius nearly lost his grip on the towel. She noticed this with a sly smile, her anger forgotten. "Oh, loosen up, will you? I like it when you show some skin."
Sirius glanced up and allowed an artful smile to flicker across his face.
"Oh, do you?" asked Sirius his old charm returning with his confidence as he allowed himself to forgot his trauma of being in another person's body to exploit the resources available, namely a blond donned in a pair of flimsy pajamas.
She giggled, a very high-pitched, girly giggle before proceeding to encircle her arms around his neck. And before Sirius could open his mouth to utter some witty remark, she was kissing him. And not some quick peck on the lips, she must've spent some time in France because she seemed to have mastered their style for displays of affection awfully well.
He nearly dropped his towel…again.
But someone very rudely disrupted them by entering the bathroom. Someone very tall, with dark, greasy hair, all too familiar beadle eyes, sallow skin, and a hooked nose.
For a third time it took all of Sirius's will power to clutch desperately to the towel.
"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Parkinson, I hate to intrude some 4th year claimed one of the showers was bewitched and Filch has his hands full with Peeves's new Stink Bombs, but if I'm not mistaken breakfast will begin in less than 5 minutes time.
The girl, Parkinson, just grinned at the tall man. "Okay, Professor Snape, we'll see you in Potions!" The teacher just waved her off.
Snape…older…taller…
It had to be him. No one could coincidentally have all those trademark features, could they? It was impossible unless…
"What's today's date?" he asked to Parkinson who was making her way out of the bathrooms.
"October 8th" The door had nearly closed when she stuck her head back in to add: "1994."
1994.
The future…he was in the future with his worst enemy as his teacher. 20 years into the future. He had to find someone who'd understand.
Definitely not Snape. Nor that slutty blond, Parkinson. She'd probably going into hysteria that her beau, Draco was gone.
James Potter. He'd be somewhere here in the future. Grant it, he'd be 35 by now. But he'd be here…and if anyone of his friends would understand what had happened and be able to help, it was him. Now it was just the matter of finding him…and getting dressed. Sirius thought, glancing down at the towel he was still in.
~La fin.
Sirius is going to have a few surprises in store for him, as is Draco…and don't worry; Pansy isn't going to be in this story much.
I'd think it'd be so fine
If you just took your time,
To share an opinion or two
Your very own point of view
I'd forever be in debt
To those who are adept
At writing a review for me
Really I'm not too picky,
Flame, an insult, whatever you think best
I could care less
So for those honorable few
Who will take the time to review
I shall salute you.
*salutes*
(Yes…I do have a brother in the army. And yes I can't write a rhythmic poem to save my life. Sorry you had to read that.)
Summary: What if Draco ended up in the past, in the body of Sirius Black when he was in fifth year at Hogwarts? What if a 5th year Sirius was transported in the future into the form of Draco Malfoy? What if Sirius found out that he was going to spend 13 long years in Azbakazan, that his best friend and his wife would be murdered, and one of his closest friends would betray him? What if Draco started to have feelings for the mother of his most hated enemy? Can they ever go back…and do they even want to return?
Disclaimer: If Harry Potter was mine I'd write all the books about Draco Malfoy, but then it wouldn't be a Harry Potter series. But alas, I fall short of the necessary requirements, so the world has to read about the world centering around Harry Potter, not Draco's. Oh, well.
Chapter 1: Foreign Wake-Up Calls
Draco blinked at the sunlight filtering in from a window above his head. He rolled over, so his face was buried in a pillow, groaning. His head ached, like he'd been hit by a house. Or a hex.
"You'd better get up if you don't want to be late for breakfast."
"I'm getting up," snapped Draco, but he didn't move. Until someone snatched the blankets off the bed.
He rolled his eyes. "You didn't have to do that." He turned over on his back to see the person who had so rudely disturbed his beauty sleep.
The person standing there was definitely not Crabbe. Or Goyle.
He looked an awful lot like Harry Potter.
Draco's mind went into double time. He jumped out of his bed, snatching up a wand, which definitely was not his, but pointed it directly at Harry. "Potter," he stated through gritted teeth, "what the hell are you doing here?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "I don't know…maybe because this is my dormitory!" He gestured to a bed behind him.
For the first time Draco realized that he was not longer in the Slytherin Dormitories. The floors weren't stone. They were wood. The walls were bright. The windows plentiful. Gryffndor Dorms. How could he have gotten into Gryffndor dorms?
"Well it looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."
Draco whirled around to see a thin boy standing next to a plump one. The thin boy was bale with scraggly blond hair. The plump one had chubby cheeks and brown hair that he had attempted to comb, but hadn't done a very good job.
"Yeah, what's with you? You've been so jumpy lately!" exclaimed the plump boy, gesturing towards Draco who was trying desperately to draw names to the faces of these Gryffndor boys. It definitely wasn't Neville standing before him. Neville would have been cowering behind Weasley and Potter. Not openly questioning him.
"Oh, he's just in a bad mood now that I'm captain of the Quidditch team." Draco turned back to look at a very triumphant Harry, who gave him a mock grin before tossing his black hair back and for a split second….giving Draco a clear view of his forehead.
"What happened to your scar?" asked Draco. The forehead was blemish-less; not a scratch tarnished it.
"Oh that one you give me the other day?" Harry pulled up the sleeve of his robes to reveal a thin jagged line running up his arm. "See it's still there."
Draco's eyes were darting back and forth between Harry's forehead and his arm. He swallowed hard. That's when the door of the dorm swung open to reveal an agitated girl.
"Breakfast is going to be over if you guys don't hurry up!" she snapped, folding her arms.
"You really shouldn't come barging in like that," stated Harry, smiling at the redhead. "What if we were changing?"
She shrugged. "Well that would have been your problem, not mine." She turned to Draco. "You're not even dressed yet!"
But Draco wasn't listening. His eyes were focused on a mirror hung over a dresser. He could see the reflections of the redhead, of Harry, of the plump boy, and of the shaggy blond one. But his…wasn't there. Draco stepped towards the mirror until he was face to face with it. The four companions were staring at him from behind with puzzlement.
The reflection he was looking at had blond hair, like his, although it was not silvery, but dark filled with hightlights from the sun. His pale face had been replaced with a tanned one with a few freckles left over from the summer sprinkled over his nose. And his eyes were no longer gray, but a bright shade of blue.
Draco spun away from the reflection. "What happened to me?"
Harry just laughed. "Really, Sirius, calm down. We all know you're not a morning person."
Sirius.
Sirius.
He was in another person's body. But what was this…some sort of alternate universe where he was friends with Harry Potter? And Potter didn't even have his famed scar? No scar…Draco glanced at the boy who was trying to herd the redhead out of the room. "Oh, leave will you? We'll meet you at breakfast!"
As Harry shut the door practically in the girl's face, he whirled around, and Draco noticed something very odd. Harry's eyes were not green. Not even a flicker of the shade.
They were dark brown.
"Sirius, what's wrong? You look pale…are you feeling okay?" Draco backed up against the wall. The trio approached him cautiously. "Padfoot?"
Draco glanced to his right. There sitting on a night table was a little calendar. October 8. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Well at least it was the correct date. Then his eyes settled on four numbers written to the right. 1975.
Malfoys don't faint, or pass out. Whatever made Draco close his eyes and fall into a pit of blackness must have been from lack of sleep, or that headache that still pounded his cerebellum.
****************************************
Sirius had slid out of bed long ago, had grabbed some robes, and in the morning daze he was always in, he had headed mindlessly to the showers, as usual trusting his own instinct to guide him. But he had forgotten the password, and it wasn't until a bulky boy informed him that it was Dragon's Tooth that the Knight blocking the passage saluted him before somersaulting out of the way.
Sirius stepped in, casting aside his clothes to wake-up with a refreshing hot shower. After the water streamed down on him for a full 15 minutes (he'd always been one for long showers) he was able to think straight and see everything in focus. He had never been a morning person.
'That's funny…they must have remodeled the showers. Hmmm…I wonder how they could redo them in a whole day.' Thinking that it had to be done with magic, he absent-mindedly reached for a soap bar and began scrubbing away. It didn't take long for the soap to slip out of his hands and for him to nearly fall on his face from almost sliding on it.
Sirius stared in horror at his pale arms. What had happened to that summer's tan he had worked so hard on just a month ago? Tans don't disappear into thin air…do they?
And his leg didn't have that scar from when he and James had been fighting the other day, as Prongs and Padfoot of course. Instead that was a small burn on his right arm that he swore wasn't there yesterday.
With an increased terror, Sirius turned to switch off the faucets, but at first gawked at their snake shape. He snatched up his towel and leaped out of the shower. Thankfully, no one else was in the bathrooms.
He stepped up to the fogged mirror, reaching out with a trembling (and very pale, he noted with disgust) hand, to wipe away the condensation.
Gray.
That's the first thing he noticed. Gray eyes. And blond hair. But it wasn't his blond hair. It was too light and silvery. He hadn't had those prominent cheekbones yesterday. And he had to be at least a full three inches shorter.
Oh, Merlin. He was shrinking. Maybe it was some sort of mixed up age potion. He was getting younger. But that didn't make sense either. He had never in his entire life had gray eyes. Not even when he was a baby.
"What's going on?" he breathed, staring at his reflection. But no one answered him. Gray eyes simply stared ominously back. Who was this person he was looking at? It reminded him, in a vaguely familiar way of…but he shook away the thought.
Sirius was so lost in thought that he didn't see the person approaching him from behind in the mirror where droplets of water dripped down, ruining the circle of visibility his hand had created. It wasn't until he felt two arms snake around his waist that he realized he had lost his privacy in the secluded bathroom.
He twirled around so he was face to face with a blond girl he didn't recognize donned in silk pajamas, but she seemed to know him…and rather well. Sirius found himself involuntarily tightening his grip on the towel.
"Hey…you're up early." She flashed him a smile, showing off a set of white, pearly teeth before giving him a once over, mildly confused. "Crabbe said he saw you wandering into the bathrooms and you never take showers in the morning…is anything wrong?"
"I don't take showers in the morning!" Sirius spoke merely out of impulse. How could a person live without a proper shower to start the day off with?
The girl tossed her blond hair over her shoulder. "Yea…you say it's bad for your hair. Some shit about how if you take it at night, it allows all the proper nutrients and oils to replenish themselves, or-" She stopped to step closer to him (if that was possible).
"Draco…" she began slowly, (Draco- what kind of name is that? thought Sirius), "are you sure you're okay? It isn't-" She raised a well-plucked eyebrow at him expectantly.
"Isn't what?"
"You know what I'm talking about," muttered the girl angrily, shoving him away at his dumb-founded expression. Sirius nearly lost his grip on the towel. She noticed this with a sly smile, her anger forgotten. "Oh, loosen up, will you? I like it when you show some skin."
Sirius glanced up and allowed an artful smile to flicker across his face.
"Oh, do you?" asked Sirius his old charm returning with his confidence as he allowed himself to forgot his trauma of being in another person's body to exploit the resources available, namely a blond donned in a pair of flimsy pajamas.
She giggled, a very high-pitched, girly giggle before proceeding to encircle her arms around his neck. And before Sirius could open his mouth to utter some witty remark, she was kissing him. And not some quick peck on the lips, she must've spent some time in France because she seemed to have mastered their style for displays of affection awfully well.
He nearly dropped his towel…again.
But someone very rudely disrupted them by entering the bathroom. Someone very tall, with dark, greasy hair, all too familiar beadle eyes, sallow skin, and a hooked nose.
For a third time it took all of Sirius's will power to clutch desperately to the towel.
"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Parkinson, I hate to intrude some 4th year claimed one of the showers was bewitched and Filch has his hands full with Peeves's new Stink Bombs, but if I'm not mistaken breakfast will begin in less than 5 minutes time.
The girl, Parkinson, just grinned at the tall man. "Okay, Professor Snape, we'll see you in Potions!" The teacher just waved her off.
Snape…older…taller…
It had to be him. No one could coincidentally have all those trademark features, could they? It was impossible unless…
"What's today's date?" he asked to Parkinson who was making her way out of the bathrooms.
"October 8th" The door had nearly closed when she stuck her head back in to add: "1994."
1994.
The future…he was in the future with his worst enemy as his teacher. 20 years into the future. He had to find someone who'd understand.
Definitely not Snape. Nor that slutty blond, Parkinson. She'd probably going into hysteria that her beau, Draco was gone.
James Potter. He'd be somewhere here in the future. Grant it, he'd be 35 by now. But he'd be here…and if anyone of his friends would understand what had happened and be able to help, it was him. Now it was just the matter of finding him…and getting dressed. Sirius thought, glancing down at the towel he was still in.
~La fin.
Sirius is going to have a few surprises in store for him, as is Draco…and don't worry; Pansy isn't going to be in this story much.
I'd think it'd be so fine
If you just took your time,
To share an opinion or two
Your very own point of view
I'd forever be in debt
To those who are adept
At writing a review for me
Really I'm not too picky,
Flame, an insult, whatever you think best
I could care less
So for those honorable few
Who will take the time to review
I shall salute you.
*salutes*
(Yes…I do have a brother in the army. And yes I can't write a rhythmic poem to save my life. Sorry you had to read that.)