Author: faerie_lullaby Title: Time Heals All WoundsPairing(s):
It's sixth year and Harry is obsessed with Draco and what he's getting up to in the Room of Requirement. Finally he manages to catch Draco about to enter, but they barge through the door together and find themselves in Hogwarts in adult bodies six years after the death of Voldemort.Warnings:
Slight UST, mentions of male/male romanceTotal word count:
7,100Original prompt request number: 3 Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.Author's notes:
Well, I got the additions in. The shower scene wasn't as embarrassing, and the revealing dinner conversation probably wasn't the kind of revealing I had planned originally. But I liked the way the whole thing turned out, and I really liked the prompt I had. I hope you all enjoy it, too.Beta(s):
KamiTime Heals All WoundsMarch 13, 1996 Sixth Year, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Harry was trying his hardest to follow Malfoy down the hall, the hem of his Invisibility Cloak fluttered around his feet, intent on finding out exactly what he was up to in the Room of Requirement every night.
He looked down in time to avoid tripping over a piece of dislodged stone and giving away his location. However, when he looked back, Malfoy had disappeared from sight. Cursing under his breath, he pasted himself to the wall and edged along it until he reached the corner. Peering around, Malfoy was almost at the spot where the door would appear. Harry hurried after the slightly taller boy, but before Harry could follow, Malfoy scurried in, closing the door tightly. It disappeared from view and Harry growled in annoyance, cursing himself for missing his chance again. He settled himself against the opposite wall, ready for a long wait.
Harry woke from his light doze with a start, suddenly alert. The door to the Room of Requirement had opened and closed, and Malfoy was making his way back down the hall, presumably back to Slytherin. Harry hoisted himself to his feet, groaning softly as his body complained at the cramped position it had been forced into. He walked off in the opposite direction towards Gryffindor Tower, to hopefully catch some more sleep. He'd find out what Malfoy was up to tomorrow night.
It was well past curfew, and Harry fervently hoped that Ron and Hermione had not waited up, as they seemed to have taken to doing lately. He gave the password to the Fat Lady, after she had properly chastised him for being out so late. Harry rather thought she would have given up on the speech, since she'd felt to inform him every night for the past month.
However, it seemed luck was not on his side tonight. Ron and Hermione were both settled on the couch, though Ron seemed to be dozing lightly. Hermione's sharp gaze was fixated on him, possibly readying herself for whatever stubbornness she would encounter from him. She must've also elbowed Ron, for he jerked upright and blinked rapidly in the dying firelight.
"Blimey Harry. Chasing after the ferret again? Just give up already." Hermione nodded in agreement and stood to give her view, but Harry beat her to the punch, cutting off what was sure to be the same thing she'd said earlier.
"Save it, Hermione. I don't want to hear it again. I'm tired, I just want to go to bed." He brushed past the two, ignoring the thoroughly gobsmacked expressions on their faces. He headed up the stairs slowly, as if his body was weary. The door to the sixth year boys' dorm was open, the room dark. The only thing to allude to the fact that anyone was in there were the faint snores coming from three of the five beds. He collapsed onto his, drawing the heavy drapes closed. He lay sprawled on his back, wracking his brain for another reason for Malfoy to be using the Room so religiously. It obviously had to be for something bad, something he was plotting at the request of Voldemort. Harry itched to prove that Malfoy had taken the Dark Mark, following in his precious father's shadow, bowing at the feet of that inhuman monstrosity. He lay there stewing silently, growing more and more frustrated when the answer wouldn't reveal itself.
A soft sound by his bed made him still, slowing his breath to what he hoped was passable for a deep sleep.
"Harry?" It was Ron. He turned over as if really asleep, closing his eyes and forcing a soft snore. It was quiet for a moment, then Ron moved away to his own bed. Harry listened as he readied himself for bed, and fell into a fitful sleep once Ron's snores filled the room
Morning came far too quickly for Harry's liking, the early March sunlight entering through a chink in his curtains. He woke grumpy, reaching for his glasses only to realize he had fallen asleep with them still on. He was also in the same clothes he had worn yesterday, which explained why he felt so grungy. He pulled himself out of bed and through the curtains, relieved to see that his dorm mates had already left. He took a leisurely shower, the hot water working away all of the kinks, the steam calming his inner workings as he inhaled. He cleaned himself slowly, only stepping out when the water began to cool. He dressed himself just as slowly, in Muggle jeans and t-shirt as it was the weekend and he couldn't be bothered with robes.
The common room was empty when he entered; everyone must've still been at breakfast. Harry cast a quick Tempus, slightly surprised to find out it was not even nine o'clock. He was at a loss for what to do past breakfast, as he didn't want to touch his books, for surely Hermione would make them study. A session on the pitch sounded good though, so he hurried down to the Great Hall to eat before going out.
Ron and Hermione were seated near the middle and he smiled apologetically as he slid in beside Ron. Hermione huffed while Ron clapped him on the back.
"I have a good feeling about tonight. It should be the last night. Something tells me that I'll find out what's going on." Harry smiled at what he thought to be good news, but frowned when his friends weren't as pleased as he thought they should have been. "What? Now what's wrong?"
"Harry," Hermione began carefully, fearful of raising Harry's ire. "It's just, you've been following Malfoy for a while now-"
"More like stalking," muttered Ron.
"Shut up. You haven't found anything, Harry. What makes you think you'll learn something tonight?" asked Hermione gently, her brown eyes wary.
"I told you, I have a feeling. You know my instincts are usually right." Harry was trying hard to control his rising anger; he didn't want to make a scene, especially with Malfoy sitting a couple tables away. "This is the last night, I can feel it." He needed them to understand, to see what he saw. He caught the skeptical looks Hermione and Ron traded, and stood abruptly.
"Fine, I get it." He stalked away, his trainers quiet on the stone floor.
"But, you didn't eat!" He heard Ron call out.
"Not hungry." He kept the same pace until he reached the tower, snapping out the password before the Fat Lady could ask and stomped up to his room. His Firebolt was leaning by the window and he opened said window, pulling himself onto the ledge, straddling the broom handle and pushed himself out. He let himself drop into a dive before he pulled up and shot into the sky, ignoring the awed looks from students on the lawn. The March breeze was exhilarating, and it teased him to heights he never got to when in a game.
When he got as high as he could feeling like his fingers and toes were going to fall off, Harry angled his broom downwards and shot into a dive towards the grass, wishing for just one moment that he could relinquish control and let himself crash. But he pulled up just in time, the soles of his shoes brushing the grass slightly as he flew in low circles around the pitch, going higher as he went.
After what felt like a few hours, and it probably was, Harry landed gently, rolling off the broom to collapse and sprawl out in the cold, still crunchy grass. His fingertips were chilly and it occurred to him belatedly that he should have dressed for the weather. He suppressed a shiver and heaved himself to his feet, grabbing his broom from where it still hovered and headed back to the school.
The grounds were empty now, and Harry's stomach growled, telling him that he had missed lunch and it was now time for supper. Instead of using the doors, which would result in having to see people, he mounted his broom, taking to the sky in a slow float, hoping that the dorm window was still open.
It was, and Harry flew through, landing on his bed. He let the Firebolt hover back to its spot, shucking his shirt in exchange for a cleaner one. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to restore some semblance of order to the windblown locks.
Leaving the common room, he found the quickest path to the Great Hall by way of secret passages.
The hall was full already, so Harry tried for shuffling in quickly, ignoring the stares and whispers that were part of his daily life. He squeezed in between Seamus and Neville, and quietly filled a plate, digging in heartily.
It was near the end of supper when Harry noticed Malfoy getting up from his customary place at the Slytherin table. He waited until Malfoy was clear of the doors and stood, edging along the table, hands slowly pulling out his Map.
He seemed to have a bit of luck today. Malfoy was making a stop in Slytherin. Harry bolted back up the way he came, taking stairs two at a time. He called out the password before he'd reached the portrait and clambered though hastily.
In the bedroom, he pulled his Cloak out from the bottom of his trunk and threw it over his head. The Map was still tight in his hand and he gave a cursory glance around the room to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything, just in case.
He could hear much of the House returning from dinner and he cursed his slight lag. He stepped out of the room and made his way down the stairs quietly; he could hear Dean and Seamus talking loudly.
Only when he made it out of the common room did he breathe a little easier. He checked the Map and found the small black dot with Malfoy's name floating above it quickly; he was on the fourth floor and moving fast.
Harry was glad for the slight advantage, being closer to the room, but he wanted to be there first and have time to think. He took a couple of well-concealed passages and within a few minutes, he found himself pacing the stone floor, waiting impatiently.
Soft but quick footfalls indicated that Malfoy was almost there, the Map proved it. He pressed close to the wall and watched as Malfoy turned the corner, watched as he advanced toward him and began to pace the required three times, brow furrowed as he concentrated.
Harry studied his face. He was pale, even for him, dark circles under his eyes, the grey color muted. He was skinny, almost like Harry after a summer with the Dursleys and he wondered again what exactly had happened over his summer to make Malfoy look like this.
At last, the door appeared and Harry felt excited and nervous. As Malfoy reached for the handle, Harry slowly edged behind him, careful not to brush against him. The door swung open and Malfoy hurried in, and Harry was close behind.
He was just about to glance around to study his surroundings when he felt it. The air changed, the magic of the room reverberating, its sound a constant thrum. With a hearty boom, the Cloak flew off and all Harry remembered seeing was the look of fear, confusion and anger on Malfoy's face before his eyes closed and he slipped into the waiting darkness.March 14, 2003 Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
The first thing Harry noticed as he opened his eyes was that the air was calm again. He raised himself slowly to a sitting position and looked around. They were still in the Room of Requirement and by the looks of it, it was morning.
He'd spent the whole night here. Ron and Hermione were probably worried. Ron probably thought that Malfoy had-
Malfoy. He was here because of Malfoy. He looked around and spotted him immediately. He was still out, so instead, he looked for his cloak. It was behind him, crumpled in a pile of shiny fabric. He moved to pull it on, sneak away before Malfoy woke, but a soft groan stopped him in his tracks. Malfoy was sitting up, rubbing his head, frowning slightly. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but anything he would have said was cut off by Malfoy's furious grey glare.
"Potter! I should have known that you would have attempted to pull something like this! Where's your band of blood-traitor, Mudblood-loving, merry little followers? They can't be far behind."
"Malfoy, would you shut your bloody gob already? Don't you ever get tired of spewing the same elitist crap day in, day out? Get some new material. And I didn't do anything. In case you didn't notice, I got knocked out by that little explosion, too." Harry glared back hotly, mouth set, expression stubborn. After a minute, he stood and turned for the door.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"I'm going back to the Tower, to join my little followers," he bit back scathingly, pleased when Malfoy winced. He heard a scramble and looked over his shoulder to find Malfoy behind him.
"Must you follow me?"
"I'm not following you, Potter. I merely wish to join my fellow dorm mates." Harry scoffed, rankled by Malfoy's pompous attitude. He decided firmly to ignore the blond and walked quickly out of the room, heading towards Gryffindor Tower.
It was quiet as they walked, until footsteps came within their hearing. Harry was about to stop and duck into the nearest alcove, until two very familiar people came around the corner.
"Hermione! Ron! Sorry I didn't return-"
"Harry, Draco, there you are! Aren't you coming?" Hermione's voice cut off the rest of Harry's sentence and he stopped dead, felt the gobsmacked expression on his face. He glanced quickly at Malfoy, who wore the same expression.
"You forgot, didn't you?" Her tone wasn't accusatory, more playful, and this made Harry all the more bewildered.
"Erm, forgot what?"
"That we were supposed to go out for lunch today, the four of us." Harry frowned, trying to remember a point in time where he had agreed to go for lunch with Draco Malfoy of all people, and Ron was willing.
But it seemed Malfoy had a better idea of what was going on, because the blank look left his face. He seemed to be steeling himself for something, but the look passed, to be replaced with something very different. He wondered what was going on, and why he was the only one who had no idea what was happening.
Draco had noticed Harry zoning out of the conversation, so he took it upon himself to find out some things. "Yes, ‘Mione, we must have forgotten. Sorry, love, but can we postpone it until tomorrow? Say, supper?"
"I-I suppose. Is everything all right with you two? You didn't have a fight, did you? You two have come so far without fights ruining the relationship. Harry, you seem a bit pale. How are you two keeping up with the lesson plans? Are you getting enough sleep?"
"He's fine. Yes, we're keeping up. It's easier than doing the actual homework. And don't worry, we're getting enough sleep." Harry registered the sound of Malfoy's voice, could hear the smirk, but didn't chance to look at him. What was going on? What had Malfoy grasped while he'd zoned completely out of the discussion?
"I'm going to bring Harry back to the room. You guys have fun, and we'll see you later." Harry could hear Ron and Hermione say goodbye, could hear their footsteps fading away. He turned to face Malfoy finally, who grabbed his arm and began dragging him off.
"Malfoy? What are you doing?"
"We have things to figure out." Malfoy pulled him to him to a stop outside what was an unused classroom, opened the door and pulled him in, slamming the door shut. "Sit."
Harry did as told; he was still confused, and it was only getting worse. "What-?"
"Shut up, Potter. I'm going to explain what I think is going on very slowly, so you can follow along. Now, we seem to be teachers here, from what the Mud- from what Granger was saying about lesson plans. I'm not sure for how long or any of that stuff. It also seems that whatever happened in the Room of Requirement shot us forward in time a bit, because we certainly couldn't become teachers at sixteen. This whole thing is all your fault, by the way Potter."
"What? How is it my fault? I told you, I didn't do anything!"
"You followed me there! If you hadn't, things would have gone smoothly and we'd still be in our time!"
"Never mind. It's none of your business."
"Well, it's obviously something big, if you've been going there every night!"
"You've been following me every night? You already know what I'm doing?"
"No. I could never get in. You always slipped in just before I reached the door." He hated admitting to that, especially when he saw the look of glee spread across Malfoy's face.
"Anyway, back to business. We also seem to be in a bit of a...relationship. Granger referred to it a couple times. Of course, you were too busy not paying attention."
"What kind of relationship? Friends? Cause I'm pretty sure I could never be friends with you."
"The same goes for me. But no. I mean as in, sexual relationship. As in, we're dating. Long-term. At least, that was the impression I got." Harry could feel his mouth drop open, for the second time that day. A relationship? With Malfoy? Had he hit his head sometime and decided that Malfoy would make a good boyfriend? It was wrong, wasn't it? He wasn't completely in the dark; he knew men had relationships with other men. It didn't disgust him, but he was shocked that that's what his future self decided to do.
"I can see you're having issues with that. Yes, I am gay. No, I don't know if you are. Yes, the Wizarding World is fine with it. No, I will not date you. We will pretend in order to keep up appearances until we figure out how to get back to our own time. I think you should talk to Dumbledore. We have to figure out which positions we teach, where we're living. We have so much to do."
Harry shrugged, still trying to wrap his head around everything Malfoy just dumped on him. "So, when we step out of this room, we have to pretend that we're all lovey-dovey and the bestest of friends?"
"Merlin, no! I don't think we're like that. Urg, make me lose my appetite. But I don't think there's anyone around right now. We should go and attempt to practice being civil to each other." Harry nodded and slid off the desk he'd perched himself on, ambling towards the door. Malfoy strode up next to him and stood close. "Make it look good, Potter." Harry twisted the handle and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway, Malfoy close behind him. He sighed, slightly uncomfortable with the set-up, but determined to play this out so that they could go back sooner.
They were passing a bare stretch of wall when it happened. The wall paled, and another door appeared. Harry frowned and pushed it open, to reveal a sitting room, a tiny kitchen and separate doors leading somewhere else.
"What do you think it is?" he asked, turning to Malfoy.
"Well, it's obviously tuned to us, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this is our room."
"We have to share a room?"
"Idiot. No, I believe we just share the sitting area, bathroom and kitchen. We have separate bedrooms." Harry nodded, feeling slightly foolish. However, the prospect of a bedroom sounded lovely, and with a yawn, he walked off to one of the doors, checking first, then slipped in, closing the door firmly.
He collapsed on the bed, which was better than the ones in the dorms and faced the ceiling, as if it could reveal all life's secrets. This really was confusing. And how had Malfoy known that they had moved ahead six years? Was there something he missed? And what was the deal with them in a relationship? Harry had never noticed if he liked guys, sure he'd looked at the guys in the showers after Quidditch, but that was normal, wasn't it? This whole thing was freaking him out a bit. Obviously, Ron and Hermione had no problem with Harry and Malfoy dating. How long had they been like that? He would have to talk to Dumbledore. Surely Dumbledore could see his memories and help them get back.
It was to these thoughts swirling around his head that he finally fell asleep, a sleep undisturbed by nightmares of blood and screaming and death.
When Harry woke again, the sky was bright. Cursing the sun, he waved his wand and groaned when the time said it was only 9:30. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to get up, take a shower, get something to eat before he went to see Dumbledore. He rolled out of the bed, stumbling a bit as the sheets tangled around his legs. He kicked them away and stretched, pulling off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. He stepped into the bathroom and started the shower, waiting for the water to heat up. He ditched the rest of his clothes and stepped in, sighing as the hot water stung his skin.
He'd been standing under the spray for a few minutes when a voice broke the silence.
"Well, well, Potter. Who knew what you were hiding underneath the horridly baggy clothes?" Harry blushed bright red, and scowled.
"Malfoy! Get out of here!"
"Embarrassed, Potter? I don't see why."
"Just get out!" He caught the smirk on Malfoy's face as he left the bathroom, leaving the door cracked open. Harry cursed under his breath and finished the rest of his shower quickly. He shut off the water and climbed out, shaking his hair, sending water droplets everywhere. He pulled his jeans on and left the bathroom, only to find Malfoy sitting on his bed.
"What are you doing in here?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest, the scowl back in place.
"Just wondering what your plans are for today."
"I'm going to talk to Dumbledore. After that, I'm not sure."
"Well, don't forget we have a dinner to go tonight."
"Do we have to go?" Harry balked; he did not want to go and have to pretend to be in love with a guy he hated.
, they're expecting us."
"Oh, shut up and get out." Harry watched as Malfoy stood gracefully, sauntering out of the room.
"Oh, and Harry? You'll have to call me Draco, you know."
The walk to Dumbledore's office was short, and Harry could feel himself getting nervous, strangely enough. Once outside, he rambled off assorted candies until the gargoyle moved aside and allowed him up the stairs. He knocked quietly and entered when the old professor bade him to.
"Mr. Potter, what can I do for you? Your Charms lessons are going well, I trust?"
"Uh, yes." Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, his blue eyes twinkling.
"How did you get here?"
"I-I walked down the halls."
"No, no. I mean, how did you get to this time? And with Mr. Malfoy, no less?"
"That's why I'm here. To see if you know."
"Time is a fickle thing, Harry. Maybe you both have some things to change." Harry frowned. Dumbledore always said things like this, made him have to think deeply to discover the answers. A chuckle from the old man made him look up, and he had obviously seen his reaction in his mind.
"Thank you, professor."
"Any time, my boy." Harry left the office and made his way back to the quarters he shared with Mal- Draco. He had to get into the habit of calling him Draco, if he didn't want to arouse any suspicion.
"Harry. You're back, that was fast. What did the old man have to say?"
"Not much. He said we may have some things to change, that's why we're here."
"Vague as always."
"Yes. He does that a lot."
"Sit down, Harry."
"Excuse me?" Mal- Draco was really comfortable with saying his name all of a sudden, and now here he was inviting him to sit.
"Sit with me. We're going to have to get used to being around each other sooner or later. I prefer sooner. Don't worry, I won't hit on you." Harry sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, watching Draco warily, waiting for him to pounce, or something. Draco began to talk, rambling on about nonsense things, until Harry began to relax and sit back into the couch.
Thus, they passed the day away, discussing inane things that had no relevance to their situation.
It was later in the day, the sun was slowly beginning to sink and Harry registered the fact that Draco was trying to get his attention.
"What?" he asked slightly annoyed.
"We have to get ready. Granger and Weasley will be expecting us shortly."
"Do you always have to talk like a pompous ass?"
"It's in my blood, Harry."
"That's another thing. If you can call me Harry so easily, you'd better practice saying Hermione and Ron. I get the feeling they won't be appreciative of Granger and Weasel in this time."
"Don't worry your little head. I've got it under control. Now come on, we have to get ready. Let's see what we have in our closets." Harry grumbled and pulled himself to his feet reluctantly, following Draco into his room.
"You realize that none of the clothes in this time will fit me, right?"
"You haven't looked in the mirror yet, have you?"
"No, why would I?" Harry caught the subtle eye roll Draco gave him and allowed himself to be steered into the bathroom.
"There, go on, look." Harry stared into the mirror and frowned. That wasn't him. He looked older, happier. And that was when he noticed it. His scar had faded a bit; it was no longer as dark and as angry looking as it had been.
"You think this means Voldemort is dead? That I beat him?" He rubbed the scar absently. No wonder he hadn't felt anything from it. With Voldemort gone, he could have reverted back to normalcy, or as normal as one got being the Savior of the Wizarding World. "I should go to the library, see how I killed him. That way, when we get back, I can finish him off."
"No!" Harry started at Draco's outburst, confused. Did he not want Voldemort defeated? Or was this all some ploy to kill him in the future and go back and everything would be changed? "I mean, don't you understand how time works? If you change something here, you change it back where you came from. Time is a fickle thing. Even Weasley can tell you that."
Harry's sudden joy deflated. He hadn't thought about that. "Oh, all right. I won't look."
"Good. Now, we have to get dressed, or we'll be late."
It was a nice restaurant, Harry mused. He wondered if the four of them did this often, going out to eat.
"Harry? You still with me?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah."
"Good. Remember, make it good." Harry felt his eyes go wide as Draco took his hand, holding gently. He had soft hands, not like anyone else's. "Calm down. We're supposed to act like we do this all the time." He kept his voice at a whisper, and Harry wondered if the people around them took it to mean that they were being sweet to each other. He blushed at the thought, and it seemed to play into their expectations. They entered the restaurant and were escorted directly to where Hermione and Ron were seated, and Harry rolled his eyes. He could have found the table by himself, no need for someone to lead him. Nevertheless, he nodded at the waiter in thanks and sat down across from the two, pulling Draco with him. Harry glanced at his menu quickly, ordering the first thing he saw, getting a drink to calm his nerves. Draco on the other hand, ordered something he couldn't pronounce, but he was sure it was expensive. From the lack of expression on his best friend’s faces, it was routine.
"I think we should tell them. They're my best friends, I trust them," he whispered conspiratorially to the blond, who turned to him quickly.
"What? Are you kidding? We've only been here for over a day."
"I know, but I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to."
"Fine. I don't care."
"Oh, come on. Don't be that way."
"Lover's tiff?" That was Hermione, and those words sounded weird coming from her mouth. Harry nodded in agreement, and took a sip of the wine that had appeared in front of him. He kept the conversation light, glancing at Draco occasionally, who picked at his food when it arrived.
When dessert was delivered, Harry took a deep breath and cleared his throat.
"Hermione, Ron. Draco and I have something to tell you." He noted how eager both seemed to be, not a trace of worry on their faces. He had to remind himself that in this time, Voldemort was dead, so they had no cause to be truly worried.
"Wow, um, where to start?"
"The beginning is always best, Potter." Harry shot a glare at Draco, then turned back to his friends.
"Do you remember the last night I followed Draco to the Room?" He waited for their nods before he continued. "Well, something happened that night, something very important."
"Oh, we know mate. It's been 6 years."
"No, no. I don't mean that Malfoy and I are supposedly dating." He reckoned the best way to do this would be to blunt and open. "That night, when I followed him, we went in at the same time. I'm not sure what set it off, but suddenly, the air changed, and the magic knocked us out. When we woke up, it was morning, and we were in this time period. I guess what I'm trying to say is, Malfoy and I are from the past, and we're still 16, just in adult bodies." Sure, he could have been more detailed, but with the looks he was getting from the pair of them, he figured they were good with that.
"Wait, what? I'm sorry, Harry, I don't understand. You're not making this up? Both of you, from the past?"
"No, I'm not. And yes, we are."
"Well, did you talk to Dumbledore?"
"Yeah, this morning. He was vague, as usual. Said something about time being fickle, that maybe we had some things that we had to change. I wish I understood what he was talking about."
"Well, Harry, it looks like you're already starting to make some changes. I mean, you haven't fought yet. Your future selves didn't adjust as quickly to calling each other by your given names, and your fights could've brought the castle down. And now it's been a couple days, and you're getting on fine. I think you just have to figure out how to get back. I'll ask McGonagall if I can make use of the library, see what I can find, and I'll let you know." That was the Hermione he knew and loved. He was glad that she understood, of course, he had expected her to, and had expected that she would jump on the fact to research something new.
They lingered for a while longer, until Harry noticed Draco getting bored. He paid the bill, said goodnight to his friends and they left the restaurant, heading to the Apparition point.
"Well, that was relatively easy." Harry scoffed at the blond, who was suddenly easier going than he had been during dinner.
"And you were so against me saying anything." Harry grinned, more at ease with the boy next to him. They had just gotten back from the restaurant and were relaxed in their rooms, the atmosphere quiet. Harry had to rethink his thoughts. Draco wasn't really that bad to be around. Maybe once they got back to their own time, they could attempt friendship.
"Well, I'm knackered. I'm going to bed. See you in the morning, Harry."
"G'night, Draco." He watched the blond walk away, before he doused the fire with his wand, and went to bed himself.
It was the morning of their third day, and Harry woke just as rested as he had the previous morning. There was something to be said for Voldemort being dead. He went through the same motions as he had yesterday, and this time, Draco hadn't walked in. He dressed in the clothes of his future self, running a hand through his wet hair, water dripping down the back of his neck.
He stepped out of his room, and Draco was waiting for him on the couch, already showered and dressed. Harry grinned; Draco was sometimes predictable.
"Shall we head down to breakfast, Harry?" Harry nodded and Draco held out his arm. Harry took it, oddly comfortable with it. They had both decided to keep up the appearance of dating, hoping no one would call them on it.
The walk down to the Great Hall was quiet, despite the giggles the pair got from some of the younger students. The hall itself was fairly full, the Head Table nearly completely occupied, save for two seats near the middle. Harry and Draco made their way to them and sat down, saying hello to the surrounding professors. Dumbledore gave them a wink, leaving Harry confused yet again by what it might mean. Draco got pulled into a conversation about Potion techniques with certain plants with Professor Sprout, and Harry smiled. Of course it would be Potions. Draco was the best in their year at them, not including Hermione. Harry was content to eat, listening to the noise of the hall as students conversed freely. His gaze wandered over to the Slytherin table, and the students there seemed to be doing well. It seemed that the end of the war finally brought along changes in House rivalry.
Soon, Draco was tugging Harry's robes and gesturing that they could leave. Harry stood, saying goodbye quietly and followed Draco out, taking the proffered hand willingly.
Harry was drifting in and out of the conversation he was having with Draco, and therefore, didn’t realize what he had been saying. But Draco stopped dead in his tracks, a near-murderous look on his face. Since his arm was still entwined with Draco’s, Harry felt the rest of his body being jerked backwards towards him.
“What? Why’d you stop?”
“You know why.”
“No, I really don’t.” He hated being accused of things, especially if he had no idea what he’d said in the first place.
“You’re such a Gryffindor. We’re not even in school anymore, and you still keep harping on about Slytherin and all its bad qualities!”
Oops. Whatever he had said, it had been about Draco’s house, and Draco was still touchy about it, it seemed.
“I didn’t even know what I was saying! I was barely paying attention!” That probably wasn’t the best thing to say at the moment, he thought. Draco seemed to think so too, because the next thing he knew, Draco’s fist was flying towards his face. Harry ducked, his arm coming up to get the blond in the stomach. Harry got his retaliation in the form of Draco pulling his hair, and he yelped, tackling Draco to the floor. The hard stone was unforgiving, and he could tell that the bruises would be spectacular.
They seemed to have drawn an audience, if the murmuring around them was any indication. Right now, he didn’t care. The punches were still flying, bruises forming, lips bleeding, eyes darkening, until suddenly, it stopped. Harry could feel the confusion on his face, which seemed to be almost constant nowadays, the silence deafening.
Then, suddenly moving slower, Harry felt himself gasp as Draco’s mouth took his. Without thinking, he responded, letting his bruised lips part, letting Draco’s tongue invade his mouth. He tasted of coffee and breakfast pastries and Harry could feel himself begin to melt.
The slam of a door being opened had him pushing Draco off him, standing quickly. McGonagall was heading their way, and she looked furious.
“Never in all my years of teaching have I seen such disgraceful behavior among the staff. You two are professors now, temporary though you may be. I can’t very well give you detention for this, though I’m tempted to. Head back to your quarters, and see if you can discuss this calmly, like adults.” Somehow, her quiet voice was worse than when she yelled, and Harry nodded meekly, turning around to head back upstairs. Draco was close behind him, breathing heavily and probably still angry.
They entered their rooms just as quietly, and Harry paced in front of the fireplace, unsure of what to say.
"Draco? What- Why- I don't understand."
"Maybe this time is having more of an effect on us than we thought it would." Harry stopped; it made sense. They'd have to hurry and find a way back.
"Dumbledore said that maybe we had some things to change. Maybe if we talk, we can, I dunno, understand more about each other, we'll be able to go back."
"How very Hufflepuff of you. Yes, why don't we just sit down and share our feelings and maybe if we click our heels together and say 'There's no place like home', we'll miraculously be back in our own time. Yes, brilliant plan, Potter."
"I'm serious. Maybe that's all it takes. We could try, at least. What could it hurt?"
"I suppose it wouldn't. Very well, Potter, let's talk." Harry took one of the chairs opposite the couch, fidgeting slightly.
"I guess I'll start. When I was a baby, just after Voldemort killed my parents, I was sent to live with my mother's sister..."
The rest of the day passed fairly quickly, the two of them exchanging stories about their childhoods, their families, their favorite things. Harry got to hear how the other half lived, what it was like hearing how Voldemort would change everything. In turn, Harry told Draco how it felt being the Chosen One, being the one everybody looked to, the one who had to save them all. He described the nightmares, how it felt when someone died because he couldn't save them.
Eventually, they talked themselves hoarse. The sun was setting and Harry couldn't hold back a yawn. One glance at Draco told him the blond was feeling the same thing. He was too tired to move, so he conjured a couple blankets and pillows, covering Draco and himself. He settled into the chair and fell asleep quickly, his sleep undisturbed once more.
Despite how early they had gone to bed, neither boy woke until past noon. Harry woke first, so he took a quick shower and dressed in the clothes he'd arrived in. He sat himself in the window, watching the world go on around him.
"Potter? What are you doing?" The blond's voice startled him out of his thoughts and he turned to find him sitting up, sleep tousled, eyes murky. Oh.
He could see why his future self had fallen for the boy. He was nothing if not adorable upon waking up.
"Nothing, Draco." He smiled slightly, hopping off the window ledge.
"You are very odd. Are we going to try going back today?"
"I was thinking so. Of course, you'll need to shower and get dressed." The glare he sent wasn't helping matters. He was still attractive. The view when he walked away wasn't bad either, and Harry had to shake himself. This time really was getting to him.
Draco didn't take long, and soon, he was dressed as well, in the same clothes from the first day. They left their rooms silently, saying goodbye. Harry was a little upset that he had to leave; he was comfortable here, knowing Voldemort was gone, and that he had a somewhat steady job. But all good things must come to an end, and so it was only a few minutes later that they were in front of the Room of Requirement, and Dumbledore was waiting for them.
"It was a pleasure having you here boys. Good luck on your return trip, I'm sure it should work out smoothly." This wasn't the first time Harry thought Dumbledore was meddling again with time. He nodded and watched Draco turn the handle. They stepped in at the same time, and he could feel it working...
The magic wasn't quite as forceful this time, he thought, scratching his head.
"Potter? Did it work?" He glanced at Draco, frowning. He shrugged and walked back to the door, Draco following just like last time.
The walk down the hall was just as silent, until footsteps could be heard again, and Ron's voice echoed off the stone walls, followed by the redhead himself, Hermione in tow.
"Harry, what are you doing with the Ferret? And why didn't you come back last night?" They didn't seem to have lost much time, then, and they were indeed back where they belonged. "Come on, Harry, let's go back to the dorm." He let himself be dragged off, sending Draco an apologetic glance, waving goodbye.
He saw Draco head towards the Slytherin dungeons, and they glanced back at each other until they disappeared from each other’s sight, while a pair of twinkling blue eyes winked knowingly from the shadows.~fin