Title: Old Scars and Future Hearts

Challenge: Take one good/ evil character and change their affiliations. I chose Draco Malfoy who can argued to be neither truly evil or truly good but I mostly he's evil. So, I'm going to change that in this multi-chapter fic.

Word Count: 2, 825

Chapter one: Sirius Orion Black

It was all because of that stupid diary Draco had found when he went his mother to visit 12 Grimmauld Place. If he hadn't started reading it then he wouldn't know about this Padfoot and he definitely wouldn't be questioning everything he had been taught since he was old enough to listen.

It was during the beginning of the summer and although Draco had yet to admit it he was bored out of his mind. His father sat on the other end of the table eating eggs the way he always did. By separating the yolk with the white and then putting them on two different pieces of toast. His mother barely touched her food – the few vegetables and fruits she had gathered on a tiny plate – and spent most of the time looking at Lucius.

"I was thinking about going to 12 Grimmauld Place."

Lucius glanced at her. "That's fine dear." He glanced at his son. "Take Draco with you."

The thirteen-year-old didn't argue as most would have despite the fact that he could come up with several things he could do that would be more fun than walking around some old house he had never set foot in before. So, he went with his mother and while she huffed and expressed her disappointment about the shape of the house Draco began looking around. That's how he eventually found himself inside an old room that looked far more untouched than the rest of the house. It was when he sat down on the bed that he found the book. It was leather-bound and smelled like a mixture of tobacco and dust and it had an inscription on the front.

S.O.B

That's all he had the time to read before his mother called for him saying it was time to leave. It wasn't until later that evening that he was able to read more. Draco didn't know what he expected it to be. He wasn't surprised to find out that it was as diary. Based on the writing it was obvious that it was written by a young person. The writing was uneven and messy on most places; making it hard to read. He was going to read just one or two paragraphs as Draco doubted very much that someone younger than him had something intelligent and relatable to say. But he had been wrong and although he wanted to finish reading the book Draco had to admit defeat when the clock told him it was nearing four in the morning.

S.O.B took over his mind. If Draco wasn't reading the book, he was thinking about what he had read or thinking about when he was going to be able to read more. He had been wrong, oh so very wrong, when he thought that someone younger than him wasn't going to be able to write something relatable.

Even before he was eleven years old this kid, whoever he was, had thoughts that never appeared in Draco's own mind despite the fact that he was much older. S.O.B or Padfoot as he called himself in the later entries questioned everything his family taught him about being a pureblood. At first, he confided in the diary and remained quiet – or so the entries said – but eventually he began voicing his thoughts. It wasn't popular. Some of the entries the boy wrote after he began rebelling against his parents had Draco hold his breath. It wasn't worse than he thought it would be. It was in fact just what he expected happened to people who questioned their parents' pureblood-politics. But there was something about reading it. Because despite the fact this happened long before Draco was alive he still felt that he cared about this boy whoever he was. And he was sowing a seed of doubt in Draco's mind.

Draco realised that early in the summer when he was standing amongst his so-called friends at one of his parents many parties. He was only listening to the conversation with half an ear while watching the people strategically move around the room when he thought about a paragraph from the diary.

It's hard not to see the humour once you start really seeing what goes on. There's a purpose behind every step taken. The glances are more than just glances. Even the children serve a purpose for being there. My little brother and I are here to show that the Black bloodline is safe. My cousins are here to show the other pureblood families that they are available for marriage. They are walking tickets into their honourable bloodline. People are trying so hard to show what they have, what they can offer and what they want from others in return. They are doing business with lives and it doesn't bother them. Most people would claim that it's horrible. But I stick to my earlier statement; I find it amusing.

Draco saw what the boy had written. He saw it all. And he agreed. It was hilarious to say the least. His parents were eying the Greengrass girls as if they were objects rather than living human beings. The only time he had seen his parents look like that was when they were looking at properties. It was sad. And so, amusing.

"What are you laughing about?" Blaise asked.

Draco shrugged. "Nothing."

It was also that paragraph that made him realise whose diary he was reading.

Sirius Orion Black – S.O.B – was his mother's cousin. He had been disowned at some point – Narcissa wasn't sure exactly how old he had been – but it had been quite the scandal. Just like Sirius life overall. At least that's what Narcissa claimed and Draco seemed to have gotten the same idea up until finding the diary. But then again everything Draco had heard of the man to gather an impression of who he was came from Narcissa and Lucius and with a new seed growing in his mind he was quickly questioning the information they had provided him with.

Maybe that's why he – towards the end of the summer – lied to his parents and went to the one place he never thought he'd go. He argued with himself all the way there but could for his life not convince himself to turn around and go back home. He had finished the diary that same night. The last entrance was short and though Draco couldn't pinpoint what it was he was sure that something was different. It merely said that he was leaving. He was going to the Potter's more specifically his best friend, and true brother as the diary said, James Potter.

That's why Draco found himself in the most boring looking neighbourhood in all of Britain. He frowned at the tiny houses and ignored the looks of curiosity from the people peeping up behind their bushes or through the windows. His hair had turned curly from the heat and against better judgement his wand was placed in his back pocket with the diary. He didn't think the walk took that long but then again, the thoughts circulating his head as per usual made him lose track of time. He had looked up where Harry had lived beforehand – he wasn't stupid – but when he saw the house it felt as if he could almost have guessed. Whether that was true or not was hard to say.

The house looked as boring as every other house on the street. Draco looked up towards the windows on the second floor and thought he saw a head of black hair but told himself he was merely imagining things. He knocked on the door and took a step back. Here we go.

"Who are you?" A fat man with a moustache that took up most of his face asked and with every word Draco felt a tiny amount of spit hit his face. Had Draco not grown up with the likes of Lucius Malfoy maybe the sheer size of this man would have intimidated him to the point where he would have questioned his decision to come to the house. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Harry Potter sir," those words made the colour vanish from the man's face. "We used to play in the same football team." Draco hurriedly added and hoped that the man wouldn't ask him anything about football. He had read about it somewhere in Sirius diary but Sirius didn't truly seem to understand the rules and since Draco's only knowledge came from there he understood very little.

"Football. A game for weaklings." The old man laughed, sounding as if Draco had confirmed something for him. Then he looked towards the stairs. "Come down here boy! And hurry up!"

Draco barely repressed the shiver he felt at the sound of the man screaming. It only took a few seconds before he heard a door open and then he heard footsteps approaching. Harry had to walk down the entire stair and could barely fit in the hallway with his uncle standing there. The fat man pointed at Draco and the moment Harry laid eyes on him they widened and reminded Draco of what he had looked like during their first year at Hogwarts. Everything amazed him. Draco wasn't surprised that this did too.

"This boy," Draco frowned at the way the fat man said it. "Says that you used to play football together. Is that true?"

Draco nodded when the fat man wasn't looking. Harry seemed both dazed and confused at first but once the man had shaken his shoulder he nodded. "Yeah, that's true. What are you doing here, Ma- Draco?"

"I was looking through a bunch of old stuff and I found something you might be interested in. Can I come in?" Draco glanced at the man and then back at Harry. "It won't take long." he added to be safe.

Harry glanced at the muggle next to him.

"Fine." He eventually said and glared at Harry. "But you're not leaving your room, do you hear me?"

"Yes, uncle Vernon." Harry glanced at Draco for a second. There was a slight blush on his cheeks. "My room's upstairs."

Draco nodded. He thought about thanking the man Harry called uncle Vernon but opted for following Harry up the stairs. The boy Draco had spent hating for two years looked skinnier during the summers as per usual. His room was tiny and there was almost nothing in there that reminded Draco of Harry. It was a boring room, with basic furniture that looked worn-out and used multiple times before. The boy with the messy hair sat down on the bed and gestured towards the chair. Draco sat down.

"So, what are you doing here Malfoy?"

Draco reached for his back pocket and didn't miss the way Harry flinched. He couldn't stop himself from smirking. "Relax Potter. I found this diary." he held up the leather-bound book. "It's written by a man called Sirius Black. Does that name mean anything to you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well- ", Draco leaned forward and gave him the book. "He knew your father. In fact, they were best friends."

Harry scoffed. "How do you know that?"

"Because it says so." Draco responded. "Read the last entry he wrote."

Harry looked through the pages until he found the final entry. He raised an eyebrow as he read it and glanced at Draco. "Wow, it really must have been bad if he chose to run away from home." Harry sighed deeply and looked at Draco again. "So, you just found this and decided that you were going to come here just to give it to me?"

"It sounds crazy, I know."

"It sounds like you're up to something." Harry put the book on the bed next to him. "If you're going to come with some stupid threat or maybe even get some of your baboons here then just do it already. I'm in no mood to argue or fight you. Besides I need my uncle to sign my permission so that I can go to Hogsmeade with my friends and he won't do that if I'm too… visible."

Draco and Harry both became quiet. Harry wasn't sure why he had told Draco that and Draco wasn't sure what he was going to respond to. They were enemies. If anything, he was supposed to make fun of Harry but after meeting Vernon that didn't sound as appealing as it normally did. And the fact that Sirius, whom had already affected Draco without them having met, liked James Potter also played its part. If James was a decent enough guy to take Sirius in after he ran away, then Harry couldn't be as bad as Draco had told himself.

"I… I read the diary." Draco said. The roles were reversed and he was now avoiding Harry's eyes. "And I like it. He writes a lot about the pureblood world and how he views it. I've never thought about it that way before and it was nice. I can see what people dislike so much about it. I never have before. And then I saw that he wrote James Potter in the end and I felt like you should have this."

"Why?" Harry frowned.

"Because the other option was me keeping it with in my house or put it back in the house where he grew up." Draco shrugged. "And he ran away from that house and that whole world. It didn't feel right to put the book back. I think he would want you to have this."

"He would want dad to have this." Harry said barely loud enough to be heard.

Draco nodded. "Yeah." The tension was growing and he felt something crawl on the inside of his skin. "I promise that I'm not here to screw things up for you or ruin your summer. I really just wanted to give you the book."

"I believe you."

"Do you?"

"Well yeah," Harry smirked. "If you wanted to do something you would have done it by now. I've spent enough time around bullies to know at least that."

Draco laughed. He couldn't argue with that. "Well," he spoke eventually. "I guess I should go."

"I'll walk you out." Harry laughed as he heard Draco let out a sigh of relief. "You didn't like my uncle Vernon either?"

"Not really," Draco admitted while scratching his neck. "He's almost scary."

They walked out the room. It had only taken a few minutes and yet it didn't feel as if he made the trip for nothing. There was something different in the atmosphere between himself and Harry. He wouldn't say that they were friends – that would be taking it too far – but he would on the other hand say that they weren't enemies anymore. Draco let out a huff when he walked into Harry who had stopped in the middle of the stair.

"What are we doing?"

Harry turned around painfully slow. "I'm so sorry about this."

"Sorry about what?" Harry didn't answer but gestured for him to follow down the remainder of steps. Draco hissed. "Hey, what are you sorry about?"

Other than the big man – uncle Vernon – there were three more people Draco had not seen. One women was tall with a neck as long as Vernon's was wide. Her mouth looked more like two thin lines that had been forcefully pressed together than anything else. Then there was as fat boy in his own age. He was the spitting image of Vernon down to the mannerisms.

"Marge." The thin women said and tried to get her thin arms around the big women's frame. She failed.

Marge was a huge woman with a dog who wouldn't stop barking sitting by her feet. She was the kind of women Narcissa would glance at and then smirk. When Draco was younger he didn't really understand, what was so funny but as he grew older it became quite clear what Narcissa found so amusing. This Marge seemed unaware of his presence. She spoke to Vernon, the thin women named Petunia and then Dudley. Draco coughed to hide a laughter. What kind of a name was Dudley? Harry put an elbow in his stomach and shook his head. But too late.

"And who's this?" Marge glared at Harry. "Boy, who's this?"

Vernon reacted first. "It's a friend from football." Marge had a similar reaction to the one Vernon had when he was told. "But he's leaving now."

Harry nodded.

"Leaving? Vernon, I'm appalled. Mother and father raised us better than this. He's staying."

"But Marge…"

"I really appreciate it." Draco started and ignored that Harry pinched his arm. "But my parents are expecting me home soon."

"His parents…"

"Shush Vernon!" Marge said pointing at her brother. She then directed her attention to Draco. "And you, stay."

Harry and Draco glanced at each other thinking the same thing for the first time ever. Oh fuck.