The streets were crowded and the air had a humid, sticky quality to it which Draco hated. The hot weather was doing nothing to alleviate his worsening mood. So far he'd been unlucky in his search for the flowers needed to perform the spell and without them, the spell itself would be useless. Heaving a sigh he yanked open the door of the fifth flower shop he'd visited in the span of two hours. Flores La Alqueria. Draco decided that if this shop didn't have them, he would return to the villa and leave the search for another day. The truth was that he felt uneasy about leaving Hermione alone for too long. Try as he might, his paranoia would not relax its closed fist upon his throat. He worried gravely, imagining the possibilities of what could happen to her while he was running about looking for flowers… the British Ministry could apprehend her, or worse, the UNSC.

An old heavy-set woman appeared in front of him, a warm smile worn on her face. When she spoke, Draco's incomprehension must have been etched on his own because she immediately reverted to speaking English, coated in a thick Spanish accent. "Ah, una tourista, of course!"

"Well, actually…" Draco wavered, clearing his throat. "Yes, I'm a tourist. And I'm looking for some hyacinths, blue specifically."

"Jovencito, those are not romantic, come look at these rosas — !"

"No, I don't need those," he said abruptly.

Her smile fell a little as her eyes narrowed in thought. "Ah," her eyes lit up once again. "For your madre, sì?"

"No," he clipped. "I'm making my own ink at home and I need them to make the dye."

Her smile turned into a pitying frown. She made a strange sound with her tongue which Draco understood as chastising him for buying flowers with the specific intention of destroying them. Nevertheless, she gestured to him to follow.

"Venga… come. I show you."

He was so relieved he all but shouted, "So you have them?"

"Sì, sì. Hyacinths."

Draco followed wordlessly. The purchase was quick and painless. The florist seemed to have lost all enthusiasm in helping him after she had learned that he had no romantic intentions behind buying the flowers. She handed him his Muggle change and some ten minutes later Draco was walking up the steep hill toward the front door of his Spanish villa.

It had taken him a visit to four different flower shops before he had finally found what he was looking for and still his work was not nearly over. He still had to dry the petals, mash them to a powder, and turn them into ink. While it was somewhat difficult to procure in the wizarding world, Draco knew it would be nearly impossible to find such a thing in the Muggle world — at least nowhere he knew where to look. He knew he'd have to make the damn thing himself.

These were the thoughts running through his mind as he slid the key into the lock of the front door. He took his time entering, being careful to place the flowers on a table in the foyer. Assuming Hermione was still holed up in the library reading, he didn't call out for her. Instead, he thought it would be wise to make the ink first and then pull her out of whichever novel had consumed her during his absence. A mortar and a pestle, he thought. That's what he'd need. It would be best to do all this in the kitchen and so that's where he was headed. It's not as if he had a Potions lab —

He stopped dead as he crossed the threshold of the living room entrance. Hermione was sat opposite someone; a girl he barely recognized, perhaps in some long-loved dream; dreams of youth and innocence in its infancy; something sweeter than this older life.

Her eyes were fixed upon his.

Hermione, whose back was to Draco, stood quickly, turning toward him. It was not Hermione who spoke though, but this other girl. This porcelain, waif-like creature, all black hair and eyes; glistening, sharp eyes.

Her voice was just as sharp. "Draco," she clipped, her chin held high. "I suppose Potter isn't the only 'boy-who-lived'."

He made to open his mouth, to say something but the only thing which escaped was her name. Breathless and soft.

"Pansy…"

The corner of her lip tugged upward into a small smile. And then they were embracing, arms wrapped tightly around one another in a fierce reunion of friendship.

"Pansy," he said again.

"Yes, it's me. You remember..."

"I do," he answered.

She only hugged him tighter. His eyes lifted for a moment meeting Hermione's. She was standing behind them, tears in her own eyes and… and something else… fear... apprehension. He saw the infinitesimal shift of her gaze beyond him, and over his shoulder. Releasing Pansy he turned round slowly only to find himself standing face to face with someone who he had once considered a brother.

Draco could not breathe. He could not think. He could only feel the trembling of his soul; the betrayal fueling a rage that was blinding him.

"Draco."

He felt a soft hand cover his.

"Draco, stop."

He blinked, coming into himself. There were objects levitating in the air, floating higher and higher. He blinked again and they fell, an earth-shattering clatter on the floor.

"What the hell is he doing here?" he hissed, his gaze levelled at the wizard before him.

Pansy seemed suddenly wary of him. "Draco," she warned in a low tone. "Our dear Theodore has come to see you."

Something sick was stuck in his throat, his voice hoarse and low. "Then he must have a death wish."

Hermione winced. "Theo, maybe you should just —"

"Don't talk to him!" rasped Draco, his eyes wild and upon her within moments. "Don't even…" He couldn't finish. Just the mere sound of that name stirred a vengeance so putrid he could taste it like bile rising up his throat.

"There's no need to be rude," said Theo softly, his wand sliding down from the sleeve of his robes.

Draco took no time in raising his, wholly intent on cursing Theo, then and there.

A spell — one used so eloquently — hit Draco square in the chest sending him flying across the room into one of the archways. Hermione gasped and ran over, kneeling beside him on the floor.

"Are you alright?"

He ignored her, his head snapping up wholly intent on returning fire but it wasn't Theo's wand which had thrown him. Pansy's wand arm was raised and shaking. Despite her trembling hand, her expression was ironclad and unyielding. Theo, Draco noted with some measure of dissatisfaction, stood beside her and did not even bother looking afraid.

"You have been gone for far too long, Draco," she began in a faint whisper, "it seems you don't remember me at all."

Draco flinched at her words. They were, more than any spell, a painful blow. It was true. He could not say whether he remembered Pansy entirely, especially like this, especially now. Perhaps he never would...

"Do you really think I'd allow you to harm Theodore in my presence?"

Draco blinked.

"But, he—"

"I don't care," she cut softly. "I know there have been mistakes on both sides, but you will make peace with each other, and if you haven't by the time Hermione and I return, as Merlin is my witness, I will leave and you will be dead to me. Truly this time."

Hermione blinked, her expression incredulous. "Pansy I don't think that's wise—"

"We must let the boys squabble this out." And before Hermione could protest further, Pansy had taken her firmly by the arm and outside into the back courtyard, through the gardens and beyond Draco's field of vision. Her honey-brown eyes met his in one last desperate plea, and he knew if any harm came to Theo, she too would never forgive him.

In his absence, Theo had not only stolen Hermione's love, he had managed to win Pansy's as well.

Draco turned back to face Theo.

They glared at each other in silence.

"You tried to have me sent to Azkaban."

Draco raised himself up off the floor.

"You slept with the woman I love."

The corner of Theo's eyebrow lifted in question. "Are we even?"

"Seeing that you're not actually in Azkaban — no… not even close."

Another round of silence ensued.

"Hermione told me you don't remember what happened to you," said Theo breaking it first.

"You're not taking her."

"I didn't come here for her."

"Then what the hell are you doing here!"

"I'm paying an old friend a visit."

"Well," said Draco feigning regret. "Where are my manners? Would you care for a drink?"

Draco snapped his fingers.

Nix suddenly apparated between them. He looked around for a moment befuddled. His eyes widened as he took in Theo's tall form. "Master Nott—"

"Nix," interrupted Draco, angrily. "Bring us two whiskeys. There's no reason to mingle with unwanted house guests."

Theo pursed his lips. "If you don't mind I'll pass on the drinks. I'm surprised you didn't just try poisoning me instead. Finish the job this time, heh?"

Nix looked back to Draco, silently asking him for instruction.

Draco barked a humourless laugh. "I don't kill family."

"Good to know you draw the line at fratricide."

Draco grimaced. "Fine," he growled. "Just one whiskey then, Nix. Merlin knows I need it."

The elf nodded and disapparated leaving the two wizards alone once again.

"What do you want, Nott?"

"I told you," muttered Theo, taking a seat and making himself right at home. "I've come to see my friend. Is he still in there or is it just some murderous wizard?"

"Funny," sneered Draco, "because I recall it was your idea to start killing Death Eaters."

Theo released a deep sigh. "You drew your wand against Snape to protect Dumbledore in front of an audience. And Voldemort might have believed the web of lies Snape spun for you, but the others were never going to forget it! I thought the safest thing to do was to remove them before they removed you. I never said anything about torturing and maiming them first!"

"You have no idea what it was like — you have no idea the things he made me do — the trials I was put through!"

"I asked for discretion—!"

"You think yourself above me, don't you? Because you were too much of a coward to go through with it!"

"I did go through with it!" thundered Theo, coming to stand. "Selwyn, Travers, the Carrows… the difference is I didn't hang a neon sign above my head with a big 'fuck you' to Voldemort—!"

Draco drew back, his eyes growing wide.

"I didn't know," he whispered. And there was something remarkably devastating in knowing that his friend had cast the killing curse and taken a life.

Theo's jaw was clenched, his chest heaving, trying to contain something. Not anger, perhaps tears. "I should never have done it, I should never have—" he faltered. And moments went by where Draco simply stared into Theo's fearful expression, wishing against all odds that they had never come to this. "All of it… every decision I've made in the last four years. I wish I could take it all back."

Draco sunk down onto the leather wooden chair, his back hunched, and his gaze to the floor. He felt a hundred years old; tired beyond his capacity to live.

"I didn't know," he said again.

"The Battle of Hogwarts was the perfect cover. To this day, no one has ever suspected a thing."

"I wish you wouldn't have."

Draco's claim fell on deaf ears, for he had only whispered it to himself.

Someone cleared their throat. Draco hadn't even realised that for the last few minutes he'd withdrawn into himself staring at the terracotta tiles. When Theo spoke his voice was rough against the silence. "Care for a game of chess?"

"I recognise this," said Draco, watching closely as Theo revealed a chessboard of emerald green and white. "We only use that board during Christmas."

"You remember…"

Theo sat on the chair opposite him, its wooden legs dragging as he drew it nearer to Draco. There was no surface for him to place the board so he merely placed a levitating charm so it hung in the air between them. He began setting up the chess pieces.

"It's been many Christmas' you've missed."

"I suppose…"

It took only moments for Theo to finish setting the board.

"White or Green?"

"Green," murmured Draco, remembering quite well, "I'm always green."

Theo played first. He reached out, taking a pawn off the board and placing it on a white square. It was Draco's turn, he knew. He reached out to his pawn and paused. His eyes roamed the chessboard and its pieces. He remembered each and every one. He knew he always chose green… he remembered he had played chess before — countless times —but he couldn't remember how. He hadn't a clue as to how to win the game, the rules, nor what the pieces did.

Theo waited for a few minutes. Draco's frown deepened with the humiliation of forgetting something as simple as this. No matter how hard he concentrated he couldn't recall a thing.

Having apparently guessed the reason behind Draco's hesitation, Theo began explaining the game to him. "These are your pawns," he said softly. "Pawns can move one or two steps forward on their first move, and then only one step forward afterwards. They can only capture another piece diagonally, like so."

Some minutes later, Draco recalled something. A memory, not in its entirety like the last one, but he had lived this before, he was certain. "We've done this before. You were the one who taught me chess the first time."

Theo who had been hunched forward over the board sat back in his seat, blinking at him. "Yes… when we were both ten-years-old."

Draco's eyes fell down, roaming the chessboard. The complexity of the game. The skill and patience a ten-year-old would need to play.

"You've always been quite the intelligent one, haven't you?"

Theo smirked whilst pulling something out of the pocket of his robes. "I'm not intelligent," he scoffed, tossing Draco the object. "I'm a bloody prodigy."

He caught it with dexterous hands, the wrapped object nestled safely in his palms. With some measure of caution — as any sane wizard would have before accepting something from a man you'd tried to imprison — he unfolded the delicate handkerchief.

What presented itself to Draco was a clunky pocket watch. It looked rather dull. A simple timepiece without a belt chain. The glass case of the watch was missing too. He held it up to his ear and was unsurprised to find that the pocket watch was not even ticking.

"Am I supposed to know what this is or why you've given it to me?"

"It's a time-turner."

"A what?"

"Let's just say that I'm lucky that the Aurors didn't find this during their search of my Manor because if they had, I wouldn't have been sent to Azkaban, I would've been sentenced to death. Unauthorised possession of a time-turner is forbidden."

"How kind of you to give it to me," said Draco scathingly, throwing it back to Theo.

The wizard rolled his eyes, chucking the time-turner back to Draco who caught it deftly once again.

"You're holding the most valuable and most dangerous device in the Wizarding World — or at least on this side of the continent. That pocket watch can take you back to any time you want to go to. Previous time-turners in existence would allow you to go back an hour or so — at most. That," he said pointing to it, "is unlike anything that has ever existed. Turn the dial on that and you can go back to any moment in history."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "And where exactly did you find this?"

"Where did I find it?" baulked Theo. "Mate, I made it."

Draco stared at the wizard he had once considered a brother wondering for what purpose he would want to create a device such as this because he had no doubt in his mind that Theo was capable of making such a thing.

"Should I ask why?"

Theo heaved a heavy sigh. "A curious thing happened during the summer before Seventh year… Dumbledore was dead and the Ministry was hanging on by a thread, desperate… I knew there was a chance that Nott Manor would be raided as yours had been, so I put it upon myself to clean the Manor of anything the Ministry would deem unseemly. I came across something though — something too long forgotten to know how it had come into our possession… a pocket watch. Quite like the one in your hand."

Draco's body had shifted forward. He was sitting on the edge of his seat listening with rapt attention.

"The one I found, it needed something, a special anchor I couldn't locate. But I figured I could study it and create another, more powerful one. I sought to return to the Battle of Hogwarts and find you; stop history from repeating itself—"

"But you didn't," added Draco bitterly.

Theo looked down at the chessboard and Draco could see a dark cloud hovering over him like a thick blanket. "Because I realised that history can not be altered in such a way. Time is a fickle friend, Draco. Pull on the wrong thread and you change the course of history in ways you don't mean to. The battle of Hogwarts is too volatile a time to enter; too many variables to consider… I do not think it possible to go back and change things now."

"So what would you have me do with it?" challenged Draco, the tiny flicker of hope extinguished. "Fling the useless thing far into the big blue ocean?"

"I didn't say it was useless. I merely said we can't amend history, well not exactly the way we think we can."

Draco stood slowly, his eyes fixed upon the pocket watch in his palm as it dawned on him as to why Theo had given him the time-turner.

"You expect me to use this thing?"

"I don't expect you to do anything... Consider it my formal apology. It's yours now. Do what you like with it. Toss it, destroy it, lock it away in a drawer and let it gather cobwebs if that's what you choose."

"Or?"

"Or use it. Go back. Save your father."

The low flame which had stirred in Draco turned into wildfire, a force crackling in his marrow. He thought he would never set eyes upon his father again. In fact, he could not remember the last time he had, for those memories were still lost to him.

"If it cannot change history, then how?" he asked. "How do I save my father."

The same flame was burning in Theo's eyes, not one of hope but of brilliant madness. "You will not be able to change things as they were but I suspect that you can bring things back."

"You mean to say…"

No, thought Draco. It couldn't be.

"Go back to before your father was killed. Pluck Lucius Malfoy out of that stream of time and bring him back here."

Draco watched as Theo placed his fingers over a pawn seeming to contemplate something. He finally picked up another and placed it two steps forward on the chessboard.

"It's your move, Draco…"

A/N: I'm so sorry that this story has taken longer to finish than expected! I've been desperate to write but haven't found the time to do so. I most definitely plan on completing it in the next few months and will try my utter best to update quickly. Thank you for all those who review. I hope everyone continues to enjoy this fanfic and are keeping safe and healthy. If you're looking for something else to read in the time being try my other Dramione 'The Disappearing Isles of Byrn'. See if you can spot something which overlaps.