55Chapter 22: ASTTWT 11: The Other
And so the Tables Were Turned …, part eleven: The Other
It was the hardest thing he had ever done—surely the hardest thing he had ever done—and he had never been this nervous in his life. He steeled himself before turning the key in the lock and stepping inside the apartment. Oddly enough, it did not feel weird to just walk in as if he was living there himself; he felt at home there. It flattered him that Jonathan trusted him enough to give him his own key after knowing him for only a week.
Would he still trust him after learning the truth about Ron?
The moment he had closed the door behind him, he heard footsteps coming towards him. Jonathan appeared in the doorway that led to the living room, a pleasant smile on his lips. "Hey, Ron," he said, and Ron totally melted when he heard the affection in his melodious voice. "Your friends okay? You have a good trip?"
It was already past seven; he had deliberately waited until he was certain that Jonathan would be home to avoid the risk of changing his mind if he had to wait there alone for him. He forced himself to smile as he kicked off his shoes. "They were just fine, thank you, and I had a wonderful time. The west country is always as beautiful."
"The west country? Your friends live all the way over there? But how on Earth did you manage to go all the way there and back in just one day and still have time to spend with your friends?" Jonathan asked, perplexed.
Ron fidgeted nervously. "Yeah, that's sort of part of what I want to talk to you about …," he said slowly, finding it hard to meet Jonathan's gaze.
The other man knitted his eyebrows in suspicion and concern. "Talk to me about? What do you mean? This doesn't sound very good, Ron."
Ron sighed. "I know. Look, can we go into the living room and just talk for a while? There is something I really, really need to tell you before we commit too much to this relationship. And don't worry, it's got nothing to do with you, it's not like I'm breaking up or anything—it's about me and my background."
They took a seat on the couch, and Ron calmly took Jonathan's hand in his. Looking deep into his stunning blue eyes, he drew a deep breath, and said, "What I'm going to tell you might come as a shock, but I have to tell you if we're going to be together. And besides, it was a condition to come to Harry's and have dinner, so … here goes nothing." He steeled himself and took another deep breath. Closing his eyes, he just blurted it straight out: "I'm a wizard."
The apartment was completely quiet for several seconds.
Then Jonathan said, "What?"
Ron forced himself to look at him. The other man was regarding him with bewilderment and lack of understanding. That was understandable, of course. "I'm a wizard. This isn't something I'm just making up—witches and wizards very much exist, and so does magic, I will prove it to you later. But first I need you to keep an open mind, alright? I know that doctors don't really believe in the supernatural and all, I know you guys mostly rely on science and known facts—you're positivists—but please do try to keep an open mind, yeah?
"Magic has existed for all of time, just like witches and wizards have always practiced magic without normal people knowledge. We call non-magic people Muggles, so I'm going to stick to that term, okay? We live quite withdrawn lives, away from Muggles, and we have special schools for all children with magical powers and gifts. We also have our own Ministry, which is hidden beneath the streets of London. All wizard facilities are hidden from Muggles with the help of different repelling spells and suchlike, all to ensure the safety of our world."
He made a pause to study Jonathan's facial expression. He could not interpret the look in his eyes. So he went on. "I'm from a long line of hardworking and struggling wizards, and the reason why I'm not very familiar with life in the city is because we don't have the same things that you Muggles have. We don't have restaurants or movie theatres or amusement parks or even regular mail services. We send all our mail by owl post, we write with quills on parchment, and we use magic for most of our daily chores so we don't really need cities.
"We're all over the world, but we always hide our true identities to Muggles not to risk the exposure of our world. And the reason why I'm telling you all this right now is … well, I really like you, and I believe that we can build a special relationship and a very special life together—I don't want to ruin that. But I'm not ready to give up my life and my magic just because I've fallen for a Muggle. No offense, Jonathan."
Jonathan was silently studying him, apparently trying to decide whether to believe him or not. Ron hoped that he would find it in his heart to believe him and forgive him for not being honest with him from the start, and he hoped that Jonathan would be able to love him even though he was so much different from him. Ron did not want last night to be the only night they shared together. He was really starting to like Jonathan a lot.
Clearing his throat, Jonathan said, "So, pretty much what you're saying is that you're some sort of … sorcerer, and that you do magic for a living—is that it?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"I'm sorry, Ron, but that's just too incredible for me to accept just like that. Like you said, I believe in science and hard facts—I'm a positivist. Basically, what you're asking me to do is forget all about that and become religious instead? You want me to just believe in anything?"
Ron sighed with resignation. "I was afraid you'd react this way. But at least you're not about to burn me at a bloody stake, so maybe I should be happy." He was silent for a while; thought his situation over. Then, he said, "But if I could present you with hard facts, then would you believe me?"
Jonathan considered his offer. "Yes, I guess I would. But can you really do that? Because as much as I doubt it, you might be a delirious sociopath and this might just be psychobabble, and in that case you wouldn't be able to present any facts at all, now would you?"
Ron rose from the couch. "I'm going to get my old school books from home, so wait here, okay? And don't get all freaked out at how I leave because it's not as dangerous as it might look—I do it all the time. Usually I would prefer a fireplace, but you have none so I'll just have to Apparate instead."
"What are you rambling about?" Jonathan asked in confusion.
"This," Ron said and Disapparated right in front of his astonished eyes.
He swiftly travelled to his room at the Burrow and picked up a few things—a few of his old magic books, a quill, a roll of parchment, some chocolate frogs, his wand, his favourite travelling cloak, and his racing broom—and went straight back to Jonathan's apartment. It was a bit difficult to bring everything at once, but with some organisation he managed quite well.
When he Apparated before Jonathan again with a loud POP! the other man stared at him with his mouth hanging open. Ron simply ignored him and set up his things on the big coffee table. He picked up his wand and prepared to use a few simple spells to prove his story true to Jonathan. He gave his boyfriend a challenging look. "Are you ready to plunge into the reality of Ronald Weasley?" he asked.
The other man just nodded numbly and leant forward slightly.
Ron explained that he was going to perform a few simple spells that he had learnt at school. The first one he used was the Illumination Spell: Lumos. Jonathan stared at the tip of Ron's wand as it shone. "We don't need any torches in the magical world," he said simply. "And it's just as easy to make it go away. Nox." The light went out of the wand. "Now I'm going to make my quill levitate. Watch." He concentrated hard. "Wingardium Leviosa." He let it hover in the air for a few seconds before uttering the reversal spell. "Are you starting to believe me yet?"
Jonathan nodded numbly again. "This is fantastic," he said in awe. "What else can you do?"
Ron grinned. "I can fly," he said. "But I'm not sure I can do it in here, you're ceiling's too low. But maybe if I try to expand the space … My father used to do this all the time when he was driving us all to King's Cross Station to get us on the train to Hogwarts—that's our school," he added for Jonathan's benefit. "I don't know if I remember the charm, though … hang on."
He used his wand to flip through the pages in one of his magic books. "Ah! Here it is. 'Expanding-Space Charm.' Let's see." He directed his wand at the ceiling. "Expando sphero!" Immediately, the room became two hundred feet higher in ceiling.
Jonathan shot up from the couch. "No! What did you do?! Make it go back to normal before anyone sees it!" he shouted.
Ron laughed. "Relax, Jonathan. It's not visible from the outside. I told you wizards are good at hiding things. I'll change it back as soon as I've shown you my broomstick."
"Your broomstick? Get out! Witches flying on brooms is just myth!"
"Is it?" Ron mounted his broom and kicked off from the floor. He immediately shot up into the air and took a few turns around the expanded room. Then he went back down and stretched out his hand towards Jonathan. "Wanna go for a ride?"
He seemed very hesitant about it.
"Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. Come on, it's fun."
He sat behind Ron with his arms desperately clung to him, and they were off. After a while, Jonathan relaxed, and soon he was shouting jubilantly like a small child, completely taken away by the speed of Ron's broom.
Thirty minutes later—when Ron had explained everything to him and showed him how everything worked—Jonathan put his arm around Ron's shoulder and said, "I believe you, Ron. Man, who would have thought that I of all people would fall in love with such a special man! You have to teach me everything there is to know about your world, and I'll teach you everything about mine in return. And, most important of all, you have to introduce me to your friends now!"
"All right, but let me warn you: Nothing you have witnessed here today will prepare you for what you might witness at the Malfoy Manor. Harry and Draco live completely separated from the Muggle society and they fully trust in magic and nothing else. Harry grew up with Muggles, but Draco is from a very old and respected wizard family which has had great power and wealth for centuries. He has no understanding of Muggle things or Muggle life, so they don't bother with that. And right now they're not exactly themselves …"
Jonathan knitted his brows. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you see … Draco has an older sister who has a knack for making up her own spells and potions, but sometimes they backfire … Right now, Draco's pregnant with their second child—"
"What?!"
"—but they have also switched bodies, so the pregnant one will now be Harry."
"Excuse me, but could you take that again, please?"
"Draco's older sister Piper created a potion that enables men to get pregnant and she tried the first formula on Draco without his knowledge about two years ago, so they have a one-and-a-half-years-old son now—James. Five months ago she used the potion on Draco again and made him pregnant for the second time. Then, about two months ago, Piper was practicing a few new spells that she had written and one of them backfired and somehow made Harry and Draco switch bodies. Harry's in Draco's pregnant body and Draco's in Harry's body. You'll get the hang of it soon. Oh, I almost forgot! Another one of Piper's spells backfired a month ago and she accidentally cloned herself seven times. The real Piper always wears black, so ignore the other seven, all right? Oh, and James vanishes sometimes, it's no big deal, he always comes back. And the baby that Draco is currently carrying sometimes visits them from the future to see how they're doing. Let's see … that should be all. Got it?"
Jonathan stared at him in utter terror. "Okay … sure …"
Cho was getting impatient. Was the potion working? She wanted to go over to the Manor and check for herself, but she was afraid to seem suspicious if she came to visit too often. The Influence Potion was working well on Harry, anyway; he was really warming up to her.
If Draco started to suspect anything and told Harry about his speculations, Harry would take her in defence at all times, and he would not believe anything bad of Cho whatsoever. He would also see her as one of his closest friends, even if he hated her in reality. As far as she knew, nothing could break that spell.
But she did not know about the potion she had given Draco, though. The poison obviously had not worked, so she was really glad that Piper had helped her with all those alternative potions. Obviously she had thousands of different potions stored up in her room, and she had willingly given Cho a few samples in case the poison did not work. What she had now given him was a potion custom designed for Draco that Piper had made many years ago but never intended to use.
Cho wondered why she had suddenly changed her mind, but as long as it could be used in her favour, she would not complain. Considering all that leather and all the horrible piercings Piper had been wearing that day, Cho guessed that she had lost her mind completely.
The potion was supposed to awaken Draco's Malfoy genes and give him a second personality that was so vicious that even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would seem like an innocent little kitten in comparison. If it was working as it should, Draco should be experiencing some strange blackouts and loss of memory. In the beginning, his second personality would only surface occasionally and on very short occasions, but eventually it would happen more frequently until it took over entirely.
Knowing the stubborn and proud Draco Malfoy, Cho was confident that he would not tell anyone about his blackouts—not even Harry. In due time, Draco would break them up once and for all, and Cho would get her revenge.
Draco was the one who opened the window for Hedwig and retrieved the post that morning. "Harry!" he called once he had gone through it. "Letter from Ron!"
SNAP.
So that was how it worked. He was merely a second personality trapped inside the 'real' Draco Malfoy—or, should he say trapped in Potter's body? Fortunately, he remained aware of Draco's actions and thoughts while he was lying in wait in the background, but Draco was never aware of his actions. Good. That was exactly how he wanted it.
In order for him to kill Potter and avenge his lost evil soul and the murder of his parents, he would need Draco to stay put in the back of his head while he did it. But not yet. First he needed to find a way to get his own body back, because he did not want to be trapped inside Potter for all of eternity. Looking down at the letter in his hand, a vicious sneer distorted his face. He ripped it apart and let the pieces sift down onto the floor.
SNAP.
Harry came in through the archway. Draco noticed that the letter was no longer in his hand, but actually on the floor in shreds. What the …? How had that happened? He had no memory of dropping it—let alone ripping it apart!
"Where's the letter?" Harry asked in expectation.
Draco did not know what to say. Had he done that? Ripped Ron's letter into tiny little pieces?
Harry noticed the shreds on the floor. "Oh no! What happened?" He stooped to pick them up.
Draco bit his lip and feverishly ransacked his mind for the best possible response. "He-Hedwig was in a playful mood, and she kind of o-overdid it," he stuttered after a few seconds' silence.
Harry did not notice, thank Merlin. He just used a simple spell to put the letter back together and read it out loud to Draco: "'I've told Jonathan that I'm a wizard, and he took it amazingly well, he believed me right away. Now he wants to meet you even more since I've told him about some of the madness at the Manor. Prepare for two extra dinner guests tonight, we'll arrive at seven. Ron.' That's good to know, I was actually kind of worried about that."
"Mmm, yeah, me too," Draco mumbled.
Harry looked up at him. "Dracums, are you all right? You sound strange somehow. Something happen?"
"No. Nothing at all. Well, if we're going to have dinner guests tonight I had better go check what's in the fridge … Excuse me."
Harry looked after him in concern. Something was wrong; he could feel it. But he had no time to devote to figuring out what, because he was not alone anymore. When he turned around, a boy of about sixteen with bright blue eyes and really lustrous dark-brown hair stood next to him. This boy was wearing dark grey slacks and a moss green jumper. Frowning, Harry said, "Who are you?"
The boy took a step towards him. "I have come for The Other," he said with an astonishingly deep voice for such a young boy.
Harry did not understand what the boy was talking about. "There is no 'other' here," he said warily, "only me."
The boy hesitated. "But I can sense his presence here," he objected. "I'm sure he was here just a moment ago."
Harry noticed that the boy was speaking with an American accent. "I swear, there is no 'other' here. I don't know who you're talking about."
The boy studied him for a while. Then he nodded. "Okay. You're telling the truth. Maybe I travelled to the wrong time. I apologize for the inconvenience I may have caused you."
The next moment, he was gone.
He cannot believe that he almost killed Draco in the past—just because he was acting on her evil orders! Never will he listen to her demands again; he will resist for as long as he can, and if he cannot break through, she will just have to kill him like she killed the others because he won't do her dirty deeds anymore.
"Timothy, are you all right?"
He looks up at Harry, who has just entered the room.
A solitary tear slowly runs down his right cheek. "No. I almost did something evil, Harry. I don't want to do evil things anymore. I just want to break free of her slavery and find The Other so I can live a happy, quiet life in peace."
Harry frowns. "'The other'? I've heard someone else mention that term …"
Timothy stiffens. "What? You have? When? And from whom?"
Harry tries to remember. "I think it was somewhere around Draco's second pregnancy … Yes, that's right. During the body switch. I remember it because it was the same day Ron introduced us to his boyfriend. This boy just showed up at the Manor asking me about 'the other,' but I never really understood what he meant."
Timothy stares at his father in disbelief. "He came looking for me?" he breathes.
"Who did?" Harry asks in lack of understanding.
"The Other!" Timothy exclaims impatiently. "What did he say exactly?"
"Not much. He just asked me where 'the other' was, and when I told him I didn't know he apologised for the inconvenience and left. Said something about 'travelling to the wrong time' or something like that. What is this about, Timmy?"
"He is searching for me. Must be. I made that trip only five minutes ago. He must have been on my tail for some time now, and he took a chance that he might find me where he sensed me last."
"I don't understand any of this rambling," Harry says in bewilderment.
Timothy rises from the sofa and crosses the room.
He can feel Harry following him with his eyes.
"Where're you going?"
He looks back for a second, and for the first time in many years, he feels life flowing through his veins and he feels strong and confident. "To do what I should have done a long time ago."
She is sleeping, so she is easy prey. He steals up to her very silently, careful not to make a single sound. He must do it now, before she wakes up. With closed eyes, he gathers all his powers as a Time Manipulator and focuses them on the ring around his neck. In a second, it shatters. A warm feeling of emancipation washes over him, and he smiles—the first genuine smile for over two years. And now that he is finally free from her control, he feels his strength flowing back into his body; now he can do whatever he wants.
Without any remorse at all, he uses his powers to stop her time.
A Time Manipulator can manipulate time as he wishes; he can stop time, slow time, make time spin faster. He can change the time continuum as he wishes, but only in ways that will not harm the flow of time. It is easy to focus that power on manipulating one particular living organism's time like he has now manipulated Joz's. She is very much dead, and she will stay dead unless he grants her the time to live anew—and he will never do that.
A Time Manipulator's main task is to make sure that the time continuum—that is, the natural flow of time—continues unblemished and untouched. If too big a change is made in the fabric of time, the Time Manipulator must immediately correct that change or else all time may collapse. Therefore, Timothy searches the patterns of time directly after killing Joz to make sure that no such change has been made by him now. There are no new breaches, so Joz can stay dead without threatening the time continuum.
"Timmy? What have you done?" Harry is standing behind him.
Still smiling, Timothy says, "I stopped her, Harry. I finally stopped her. She won't bother us anymore. I'm free to save Draco and the others now, and I promise you that I won't fail."
Harry comes to his side and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You speak differently."
"That's because her spell is finally broken. She can't control me anymore. One of her twisted demands was for me to speak perfect English at all times, the use of one single abbreviation or colloquialism could cost me many hours of excruciating pain."
"That sounds awful, son."
"Believe me, it was. Thank you for telling me about The Other. If you hadn't, I probably never would've found the strength, or the will, to stop her. Thank you, father."
Harry gasps beside him. "You … you called me 'father' …" His voice is shaking.
Timothy turns to look at him. "Yes. You've earnt the title now," he jokes, and they laugh. Then they embrace.
"For the first time in many years, there's life in your eyes, Timmy."
"And it's all thanks to you, father. Give me one wish that you carry and I will grant it for you."
"A wish?"
"Anything that has to do with time. I can manipulate time as I wish, you know. You can wish for anything, big or small. Just tell me and I'll do it."
Harry does not seem to need much time to think. He simply meets Timothy's eyes with his chin put out, and says, "Then I want a last chance to speak to Draco before you change the past."
"Have they arrived yet?" Draco called from the kitchen.
"Nope, not yet," Harry called back from the dining room. He was laying the table, which meant that he had plates, cutlery and suchlike floating in the air above the table and carefully placed each piece on the table with an elegant flick of his wrist. Just as he had said that, a POP! sounded behind him, and when he turned to look who was coming, he chuckled quietly. "I take that back!" he called to Draco. "They just came."
"Oh, bloody Hell!" Draco shouted out in the kitchen. "I'm not done yet! Entertain them and act like it's raining!"
Harry laughed. "They can hear you, Dracums," he pointed out.
"Bollocks!" He clattered with something in there.
Harry shook his head and turned to Ron and his partner. "Ignore him, he's always like this when he's cooking. No-one's allowed in the kitchen during the last stage of 'perfection,' if you know what I mean."
The man beside Ron was staring at the plates that were floating in the air with wide-open eyes and gaping mouth. "Wow!" he whispered, impressed. "That is so cool!"
Ron gave him a bump in the side. "Hey, now, don't be rude," he mocked.
The other man shook the shock out of his body and turned to Harry, who was still smiling at them with amusement. When he noticed Harry's huge belly, he became hesitant. "Er … hi," he said, still staring at Harry's stomach rather than meeting Harry's gaze.
Ron moaned in mock impatience and mock irritation. "That's not what I meant."
Harry was very amused at how they, after only little more than a week, already joked and teased each other as if they had been a couple for several years. He totally changed his opinion then; Ron had been right in his choice. "It's all right, Ron," he assured him, "this can be quite shocking for a wizard, so what's it gonna do to a Muggle?" He reached out his hand. "Hi, I'm Harry."
The other man took his hand and shook it veeery slowly. "Hi, I'm Jonathan," he said. "Ron told me about the pregnancy, obviously, but I guess I still wasn't prepared for it. So, you're the friend, then?"
"Yeah, I'm Harry, but what you're seeing is really Draco. I don't normally look like this, I'm only wearing him because I love him so much," he joked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take care of this." He continued to lay the table. To Draco, he called: "Dracums! Will you come out and say hello to our guests, please? I've got my hands full—sort of."
"No I won't bloody come out and say hello!" Draco yelled indignantly. "I'm a fucking mess and I don't want them to see me like this!"
"You care too much about appearances." To Jonathan, he said, "Don't mind Draco, he's got a really hot temper and he always curses. He might appear intimidating and hostile and downright furious at first sight, but he's really nice once you get to know him."
"Harry! Get the fuck in here and help me, you insensitive bastard! You always leave me with everything and go do your bloody whatevers like some sort of manchauvinistic—"
"Oh, use a cleaning spell, for fuck's sake!" Harry yelled back. Then he clamped his hand to his mouth. "Oops! Sorry, I don't usually curse … His body's got a bad influence on me."
Jonathan had a lot to take in at once, and Harry was impressed with his calm. Harry himself had not taken it this well at all times when he first learnt about the magical world, and he certainly had not just nodded and said, "I see," as soon as he had seen something incredible.
Once Draco came out of the kitchen, he looked perfect—as always—and Harry could only see his soul, he did not see the body Draco was currently in. He instantly went up to the blonde and kissed him affectionately. "You look lovely," he said in a thick voice. Draco immediately picked up on the seductive and aroused tone in his voice, but Harry hoped that the others had not noticed it. It was just impossible not to get aroused every time he saw Draco like this, all dressed up and styled … it reminded him of their first date.
Draco giggled girlishly. "Oh, please … you're just saying that …" But in fact he wanted Harry to say things like that, because he knew full well that he was good-looking and loved the compliments. He pressed closer; Harry noticed that he was aroused as well and wished they could have excused themselves for a quarter of an hour or so … "You don't look so bad yourself," Draco murmured on his lips.
"Wow," Jonathan was saying behind them, "they must really love each other if they can be all erotic like that when they're in each other's bodies."
Harry and Draco laughed. "Well, after three months you have to get used to it," Harry said, "but at first we weren't all that happy about it."
"I was totally disgusted with him!" Harry and Draco said in unison, then laughed.
They sat down at the table, and Draco brought in the first dish. He had really gone all out and made hors d'oeuvres for starters, then some sort of stew with a secret recipe he would not unveil, and an absolutely delicious rich chocolate brownie with hot chocolate fudge sauce and "home-made" vanilla ice cream for dessert. But it was when Draco rose from the table to bring in the dessert that things really started to happen.
He was just rising from the table when the room started to fill up with a light purple-grey smokescreen that smelled slightly burnt, and then a semi-tall dark shape appeared. It opened what looked like huge black bat wings and laughed demonically. "I have come to suck your blooooood!" it said and revealed its fangs.
Jonathan gave a frightened shriek. So did Ron before he recognised the figure.
Piper blinked down at them. "Hey! You're new here! Who are you?" she asked. When no answer came from the shocked brown-haired man, she looked at her brother. "What's going on here?"
"We're having dinner," Draco said with gritted teeth, and Harry could see that he was really fighting to control himself in front of their guests.
Piper squealed. "And you didn't invite me?!"
"And why do you think that might be? Huh? Why are you coming in here looking like fucking Dracula, you oblivious good-for-nothing ruin-it-all?! You'll scare the poor Muggle to death!"
"He's a Muggle?!" Piper exclaimed with childish delight, and took a closer look at Jonathan.
Ron pointed up at her. "That's Piper," he told Jonathan.
"Ah," the other man said when he finally understood what was happening. "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Jonathan Kelly, Ron's boyfriend."
Piper blinked at him a few times. "Excuse me, did you just say 'boyfriend'?"
"Yes, that's right."
She looked at Draco. "What, is everyone gay all of a sudden? Can't anyone at all stay straight and keep me company in this square world?!"
Draco laughed unpleasantly. "I thought you had Yousuke for that. How was Japan, dear sister? Good? Oh, good. Then leave." He did not say another word, but just went straight out to the kitchen to get their desserts.
After a while, he gave a shriek in there and everyone turned their attention to the kitchen doorway. "What the Hell are you doing in here?! You're not allowed in here! Get out! Get out! What the— Let go of me! HARRYYYYY! She's touching me! Heeeelp!"
Harry swiftly rose from the table. "Excuse me," he said, and hurried out to the kitchen, where Slutty Piper was currently trying to cop a feel of Draco's privates. The blonde was desperately struggling to keep her off him, but she appeared to be too strong and too horny. Harry raised his wand. "Stupify!"
She fell down rigid.
"Thanks," Draco said.
"No problem." Harry went back out to the dining room. He felt the situation needed to be explained, so he simply said, "Piper's kinky clone tried to rape him."
Piper gasped. "Oh no, she didn't!" she exclaimed.
"Oh yes, she did," Harry confirmed.
"I'll take care of her immediately!" She stormed out into the kitchen and almost collided with Draco.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" he screamed. "You almost ruined my brownies!" He put them down on the table indignantly. Then, when he was about to take a seat again, something changed about him. Harry could not quite put his finger on it, but there was something utterly different about his air, and there was a strange glint in his eyes …
Instead of sitting down, he said, "Excuse me, I forgot something in the kitchen," and left again.
Harry looked after him, wondering what had just happened. But he came back in just a couple of minutes and seemed to be his normal self again, so Harry just shrugged and forgot about it. All in all, the dinner was a success, and before Ron and Jonathan left, they promised to do it again soon.
"I hope you're aware of the consequences of this," Timothy says with concern. "I'm not bringing him back permanently, because that's not possible, you'll only get one hour with him. Are you clear on that?"
"Yes," Harry says, eager to talk to Draco again.
"And he will be the Draco that he was that night, right before he died. He will have no memories of the past six years."
"I'm aware of that—just bring him out, will you?"
The boy nods and uses his powers to bring forth the ghost of 2022's Draco. The blonde looks exactly like Harry remembers him, only more beautiful, and it is such a shame that such a perfect creature should spend eternity in the world beyond all alone. Acting on a dangerous impulse, he throws himself around the blonde's neck and kisses his left cheek.
Draco simply stands there, shocked, paralysed by astonishment. Eventually, he lifts his arms and puts them around Harry. "Harry …," he says, "why are you crying?"
He has not even noticed himself, but yes, he is crying. He lets go only temporarily to be able to gaze into the blonde's silver eyes. "Draco … you don't know …"
The blonde frowns. "Don't know what?"
"You've been dead for six years. Timothy has only brought you back here for an hour at a special request from me. I had to know …" He falls silent.
Draco jerks when he hears the truth so bluntly spoken. "I'm … I'm dead? But I … I remember us going to—"
"The forest, yeah. Remember your dreams? They weren't dreams, Draco, they were premonitions. You died in that forest six years ago. Ron killed you."
Draco looks as if he's just been hit in the face. "I died? I left you here all alone?"
"Yes. There was nothing we could do. That's why James became Tom—because I got you killed."
Draco gives off a nervous laugh. "What are you talking about? You didn't get me killed!"
"Yes, indirectly I did. I was the one who brought you to that forest that night, remember? I was the one who led you right into their trap, and I am the reason you're dead. James saw that and turned on us permanently. He even murdered the Minister for Magic just to start the war. It's been going on for more than two years now, but now it's finally coming to an end. We're winning, Dracums. We're winning for you."
Draco blinks. "For me? What are you talking about? I'm no-one special …"
"Yes you are, Dracums. You're the most special wizard in the world, you were the one who made everything beautiful. When you died, everything died. Our family died. James became Tom and went over to the dark side, started the war … Joz enslaved Timothy and made him do horrible things to keep the war going. She's dead now. But she deserved to die. She killed our entire family. Piper, Yousuke, all the children … She was the one who killed Blaise."
Draco stiffens and a hardness comes to his grey eyes. "Joz killed our Blaise?" he asks with gritted teeth.
"Yes, I'm afraid she did," Harry admits. "But it's over now, Timothy's going to make everything right again, he's going to bring the beauty back to the world … and he's going to bring you back to me."
He holds him tight, his eyes closed and his heart pounding.
"What about Ron?" Draco asks in a low voice.
"He's fine now. Piper succeeded in breaking the spell that Lord Pywercaseley had put on him, and he was quite bad off for a while. Felt awful about what he'd done to you … but he got over it eventually. He understands now that he didn't mean to do it. He was just being controlled by Pywercaseley."
"What an awful thing to do—to use your own brother like that."
"Yeah … I guess the old Percy is definitely gone now."
"Harry, would you tell Ron … Would you tell him that I don't blame him, please?"
"Certainly, babe."
"Time's almost up," Timothy warns from his corner.
Harry presses Draco closer one last time. "I just need to know something …," he whispers, tears streaming down his face.
"What?" Draco asks.
"Do you … do you hate me, Dracums? Do you hate me for taking you to that forest and for ruining everything for us? Do you blame me for what happened that night?"
The blonde is silent for a long while, then he tightens his hold on Harry. "No, of course I don't hate you, Harry. I love you. I know you never meant for me to get killed, and I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault."
"Thank you. That's all I needed to hear."
Piper could not find Slutty anywhere when she collected her troops and prepared to go outside for another training session. She would soon be ready to take on Pywercaseley, she said. Harry did not know if he believed her, but he was willing to give her a chance. And honestly, he did not care if Slutty disappeared from the face of the Earth, because she was always trying to rape his Dracums, and to think that she was trying to rape his body was just way too disgusting to even think about.
Then, when he walked into the kitchen to have a cold drink of water and some fruit, he spotted black leather in the corner of his eye and whirled around.
Malfoy Piper. Out of her bonds. How in Hell …?
"Hey! Stop!" he yelled and ran after her. "Petrificus Totalus!"
The spell hit her in the back and she fell to the floor like a rigid stick with a loud THUMP!
Someone screamed in the other end of the house. Since Malfoy Piper's body was locked, he felt it safe to run towards the scream and see what was going on. He found Sensitive Piper standing in the open doorway to one of the broom closets, staring at something on the floor.
Slutty Piper was dead. Slashed open. Her intestines were hanging out of her open gut.
Harry turned his face away in disgust. Who the Hell had let Malfoy Piper out? And why? He would like to think that Slutty Piper being the target was just a coincidence—but only two hours after she tried to grope her way into Draco's pants? It was too convenient to be a coincidence.
But surely Draco would never have set Malfoy Piper free just because he was tired of being constantly sexually harassed? Sure, he'd been acting strange for some time now, but … That did not mean that he would volunteer as an accessory to murder, for crying out loud!
But then again …
Harry remembered the strange change in Draco just after he had brought them dessert. How he had gone back out to the kitchen and not returned for more than two minutes … He had claimed to have forgotten something, but when he had returned, it had been empty-handed.
What the Hell was going on in the Manor?
Timothy puts his hand on Harry's shoulder to comfort him, because he understands that it must be painful for him to see Draco disappear again. An hour is not nearly enough for someone who has spent six whole years without his beloved, longing and desperately yearning for him to return somehow. "Are you okay, father?" he asks with concern.
Harry slowly nods. "Yeah, I'm all right." He looks up at Timothy and smiles. "He gave me the best gift ever. I think he just gave me life back."
Timothy responds with a smile of his own. "I'm happy for you."
"The Other?"
Timothy stiffens. He has never heard that voice before, yet he recognises it like he would recognise his own even after twenty years of deafness. He slowly turns to find a boy his own age and of the same height as him standing before him, a boy with blue eyes and dark-brown hair. "You found me," he says happily, and goes to him.
They embrace.
Harry watches the scene with apparent bafflement. He points at the strange boy. "You …!"
The boy smiles. "Funny to think that I met you only two minutes ago, but for you it must be at least twenty years," he says with that distinctive American accent.
"Twenty-two," Harry agrees.
The boy looks at Timothy anew. "At least I found you, baby," he says, and places a tender kiss on Timothy's lips.
Harry gapes at them. "'Baby'? Are you guys …?"
"We have never met until now," Timothy explains, "but this is my other half, The Other. We've been searching for each other for all our lives. You see, there are only two Time Manipulators co-existing in the same time, and their job is to maintain the flow of time together until they die. This is the other Time Manipulator—my soul mate." He turns to the boy. "I'm Timothy, by the way. Timothy Malfoy."
"Jonas Bradley," the boy introduces himself with a smile. "Nice to finally taste you."
They laugh.
Harry just shakes his head in resignation. Youngsters these days …
Then Jonas lets go of Timmy and claps his hands together expectantly. "Well, shall we go and save your father, then? We don't have all the time in the world, you know. We have many stops to make between the years 2006 and 2022, babe."