A Flower's Magic

Title: A Flower's Magic

Summary: Translated from Umbre77's. Captured by Voldemort, Harry has no other choice than accepting defeat. But Draco Malfoy, for his part, doesn't want to die! Even if it means changing the past to save himself! Slash

PS: This takes place before the Deathly Hallows

Translator's Note: Well, Hello!

I'm Layrel and I'll be translating this fanfiction from French. Hum, maybe I should do a little explaining first; Umbre77 is a really good French writer on and since the french community is smaller, her stories stand out more due, in part, to their length. Her plots are also very interesting because of their twists and her characters psychology. Those many reasons made me want to translate it, obviously ;). This particular story is Umbre's 'retirement fiction' and unfinished as of yet.

But, anyway, I not trying to turn you away here or anything, so please read on! The point is, this story was first published when the Deathly Hallows wasn't out yet. As such, Umbre imagined a catastrophic scenario where time travel was the answer. The facts from DH were adapted into it once it was out, but from the prologue, you'll find that events are quite different here, though it was really jut a pretext to send them back in the past really... So, if you stop here (which I would be sad about), just know that it's not actually a depressing story at all but rather a sad start.

To everyone else, please read and review; any kind of reaction is interesting to know after all!

Warning: This is a translation from Umbre77's fiction; I own nothing (except the mistakes you might find)

OOo

Prologue:

Contrary to perceived notions about wizards, Voldemort did not live in a gloomy shack. Far from it! Well, it must be said that the wizard who succeeded in making Hogwarts gloomy would have to work hard and long on it. Like, for a century or two! Although these thoughts were rather unwelcome given the situation, Harry wasn't smiling. He was kneeling in a place which had, a long time ago, called up to his mind joy, pleasure, laughter, friendship…happiness, in short.

Yet, now, he felt none of that. The Great Hall now evoked to him only pain, suffering and death. His death. The death of all his friends. Of all those close to him. Hermione's death, on the first day of school; Ron's, when he went to avenge her; Remus's, the last member of the Marauders. Even though he had not been present when they died, Harry had witnessed all this thanks to his link with Voldemort. How the man had tortured the Weasley twins in front of their parents. How he had imperiused poor Ginny into killing the rest of her family before committing suicide, horrified at herself. How the noble professor McGonagall had screamed, again and again, under torture spells. So many horrors tainted this room that yet reminded him of such pure memories…

Now it was his turn. Yet he knew Voldemort wouldn't kill him today. No, the Dark Lord would want to savour his victory first. After months of pursuit, his sworn enemy was before him; at his feet; awaiting death, his eyes filled with distress. It was truly enjoyable.

"Harry", he said with a chilling voice. "I am so happy to see you in these halls. I am sure you share my joy, don't you?"

"You have no idea how much", ironized the young man.

Harry was not really joking. Torture spells still hurt him enough to remind him not to be impertinent. Around Voldemort, sneers erupted. The Death Eaters knew that perfectly well.

"Tomorrow is Christmas," continued the dark lord. "Which is why I am not killing you today. It will be our way of celebrating. To see you dead will be a magnificent gift to myself. You can be sure of it."

Harry didn't respond. What could he say to that, anyway?

"Lead him to the dungeons," said the travesty of a man in front of him.

"My Lord," interrupted suddenly a voice that Harry recognized. "May I…?"

"Ah, my favourite little snake," said Voldemort. "Yes, you may. I know how much pleasure this brings you too."

To express his thankfulness, the Death Eater bowed deeply in front of his Lord, before making his way to Harry. He grabbed him by the arm and dragged him up, forcing him on his feet. With a sharp movement, he pressed his wand against Harry's temple.

"If you don't want to suffer, I advise you against trying anything smart."

The Dark Lord's laughter trailed after them as they left. Harry allowed himself to be dragged out of the Great Hall, as they crossed over Death Eaters, but also students, all of them Slytherins. The dark haired boy kept himself from commenting on this - it would be useless anyway. He had lost and he knew it.

Going down the stairs was truly painful. Snape wasn't helping and only pulled on; letting his feet drag on the floor, ignoring his pain-filled whimpers. The man hauled him towards Hogwarts' dungeons for a long time but after a moment, he stopped. Harry saw him listening for a sound and eventually, Snape sighed and opened the door of a room which the young man knew, the potion ingredients storage room. He was unceremoniously pushed in.

"Potter, we don't have much time," said the man while removing his mask. "So listen to me without questions and do as I say, is that clear?"

Harry only shrugged. Whatever Snape wanted, it couldn't be worse than what awaited him the next day in any case.

"Tell me then," he murmured.

"I'm going to put you in a cell which is already occupied. There, you will find someone who can help you escape. To do that, you will have to give him this."

He gave him a plastic bag filled with flower petals.

"I'm counting on you, give it to him. I promise you won't regret it. For the love of all you hold dear, don't be stubborn and just give it to him, understand?"

Harry nodded. He had no desire to ponder on the traitor's words, nor ask questions, nor hope for a potential escape. He would be dying the next day, of that he had no doubt!

Without gentleness and to Harry's surprise, Snape then punched him in the gut. He gasped painfully, feeling blood seep from his mouth. As they left the room, Snape was carrying him across his shoulders. A Death Eater jumped as they went out.

"Well, what were you doing?" asked the man

"Something that I've wanted to do for years," coldly replied Snape, a sly smile on his lips. "He's going to die tomorrow, I can tell him goodbye in my own way, right?"

The masque man burst out laughing as he continued down the hallway. Not lingering, Snape kept going gloriously. They ended up in a dark and cold corridor where the cells were. The brown haired boy was tossed in a cell as the door was quickly closed behind him.

Growling, he turned on his back, looking up to the ceiling. He knew someone else was there, he had heard him gasp as he was turning, revealing his face and identity.

"Fuck, I didn't expect that!" exclaimed the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy. "Potter! Is the situation that bad?"

The question was asked in a serious and resolute tone.

"Even worse," answered Harry hoarsely.

He tried to stand up, but the pain prevented him. Laboriously, he tried to position himself in a way that would allow him to see his former nemesis, but his wounds were excruciating. A warm hand landed on his shoulder and Draco Malfoy 's emaciated face appeared above him.

"Damn, they didn't miss you! Don't move!"

Malfoy disappeared from his sight then reappeared a few seconds later. A test tube was pressed to his lips and Harry drank without worrying.

"What…"

"It's a Painless and Healing Potion. It's not instantaneous, for the Healing. Severus gives them to me so I can resist better to torture. The Healing takes a good month to kick in, but it allows you to heal more quickly without being suspicious."

Harry left his lethargy at those words. What the hell was going on? What was happening in this castle? What were Snape and Malfoy plotting?

"Malfoy," he said roughly, "in my pocket… petals…"

The blond boy seemed to understand because he crassly looked into his pockets. When he took out the items, tears started rising to his eyes.

"Fuck," he said, hiccups in his voice, "I don't believe it… He… He did it!"

Harry frowned. He felt the pain recede and took advantage of it to straighten up. What he saw chilled him to the bone. The cell was shabby: cold, humid, gloomy and filthy. Like Malfoy, whose hair was so dirty it seemed black. His skin was the same colour and his clothes were in tatters. In his excitement of having the petals, he seemed even scarier. His eyes were huge and eating up his thin face.

"I didn't expect to see you here," said Harry. "I thought you would be in the Great Hall."

Draco looked back up at him.

"No. I know the events in our sixth year don't stand in my favour… But I'm neither a killer, nor a Death Eater. As surprising as it may seem, I don't have the guts for it. I… Anyway, I will be able to leave now!"

He whispered that last sentence while getting up to approach a dunghill. There, without any hesitation, he plunged his hands in and drew back a small metal box. Harry just watched him, stunned and disgusted: what had happened to the proud and perfect Draco Malfoy?

"Snape said you could get me out of here?"

Malfoy froze as he was starting to mix the petal with the content of the box. He threw them in, closed the box and shook it vigorously. There came lightning and strong odour of brimstone, then nothing.

"Did he tell you what I intend to do?" asked the blond boy.

"No", responded Harry. "Just that you could get me out of here. Otherwise, I'll die tomorrow."

Malfoy froze again, and turned to look at him. He seemed to be seriously studying the question, then nodded to himself.

"Go in that corner there and don't butt in."

Harry obeyed. He didn't know what was happening, but he wanted to get out. Death was tempting. Unfortunately, he didn't want to die without avenging his loved ones. If he stayed there, he'd never have the opportunity.

Under his scrutinising gaze, Malfoy got up and opened the box. He plunged his hand in and started spreading a fine pink powder on the ground.

"Too many lives wasted," he said. "We claim the right to save them. Too many lives taken. Give us the chance to bring them back. So that our loved ones can be born, grow up, live and die in peace, send us to a place where the mistakes committed can still be avoided. By the moon's, Christmas' and Hogwarts' magic, I implore thy, help us!"

Without hesitating, he threw the box and jumped in the middle of the drawing on the floor, urging Harry to do the same. The brown-haired boy followed, his eyes widening as a pink flower pattern started glowing on the ground. Where the hell had he put his nose again?

'It couldn't be worse than here in any case!'

He felt the earth shake and a sudden gust enclosed him, sucking him down a long tunnel. Out of fear, he grabbed Malfoy's hand, which he held on too tightly. The squeeze was reciprocated, reassuring him a minimum – after all, it was Malfoy! He couldn't be totally at ease!

It lasted only a few seconds. He felt like the wind was picking up and that Malfoy's words were replaying in circle, then suddenly, everything stopped. He fell briskly forward and rolled over, bringing Malfoy down with him. He stumbled against something hard, stopping his fall. A whimper left his lips, then a painful cry when Malfoy landed on top of him. In spite of the foul smell coming from the body next to him, he couldn't find the strength to move away. Instead, he opened his eyes. They were in a forest, and it was a tree that had stopped their fall downhill.

Against him, Malfoy picked himself up. He rummaged through his pockets and took out a pocket watch. His eyes widened and a sob escaped his parched lips.

"I did it," he whimpered, tears rolling down his hollow cheeks. "Oh, Merlin, thank you, I did it!"

Harry got up, curious. Do what exactly? They were in a forest - and considering the temperature, it was winter.

"You did what?" he asked.

Malfoy gazed up at him, giving him what he felt was a fixing stare. He had never known his school nemesis' eyes could be so happy, sad and determined at the same time.

"I got us back in time," he said. "I achieved to get us back in order for our future to never come to pass!"

Harry's stomach constricted and his heart started beating so fast it hurt. Fearful, he reached out for the pocket watch and took it. Like every watch, it showed the time, but it also showed the date. And right there was written, clearly and plainly: 24th December 1971.

TBC