693Chapter 3: A Toad Named Trevor
The month between meeting Harry in Diagon Alley and the train ride to Hogwarts was the longest of Draco's life. There was plenty to do - last minute tutoring sessions, lectures from Lucius on how to comport oneself as a Malfoy, general fretting from his mother, Quidditch in the yard - but all Draco could think of was his last sight of Harry. What kind of impression had he made? Could they be friends this time around? Was that Harry even real?
The longer Draco spent in this new reality, the more he came to accept it didn't much matter if it was real. He wanted this to be real, to have somehow gone back in time no matter how improbable it seemed, but he couldn't pr ove it. If it was an illusion, there was nothing he could do to break the spell on his mind. At least, nothing he had tried had succeeded at changing the world around him, or waking him up, or even hinted that he was under some sort of spell. While he had never been as good as Hermione at detecting spells and traps, he was proficient enough to have seen something by now.
Accepting he had traveled back in time left Draco with a new set of issues. He had to determine how to change the future and how much he wanted to tell the people around him, not as easy as it sounded. Could he confess everything to Dumbledore about Voldemort's return, his current life as the back of Professor Quirell's head as soon as he got to school? It was appealing. He wouldn't have to do much of anything at all if he did that. Dumbledore would take care of everything, sculpting the future for the best outcome. Draco would be left to do nothing more than make Harry Potter his friend.
Even as the plan formed in his head, Draco dismissed it. There were too many questions he couldn't answer. What would change if Harry didn't face Voldemort in his first year at Hogwarts? Draco wasn't sure; Quirell had caused so many problems that year. The troll, the dragon were the two Draco remembered Harry telling him about, but surely there were more. More events that Draco simply didn't know about. They seemed like small things, but he had spent as much time as his hovering mother would let him reading up on time travel and everyone stressed how a small change could cause a ripple of events.
Draco's greatest limitation was his own lack of knowledge. He knew, vaguely, what had happened first year. Some Harry had told him, some he remembered for himself, and a few things he had learned from the other Order members. If he didn't know how the events had affected Harry, how could he safely change them? Rather, how could he change them when he knew the outcome caused no harm to anyone involved. Second year was the same, but third and fourth were a different matter, not to mention the years that followed that. His own parents were in danger after fifth year. There were events he had to change, events he didn't think he could tolerate happening again, but it seemed the safest path to let time pass as it had before as often as possible.
So Draco didn't send a letter to Harry, didn't try to find him and spend a little more time trying to become the boy's friend. He stayed home, trying to reassure his parents that he was fine and normal. Lucius and Narcissa were convinced Draco had been traumatized by The Nightmare. They referred to the dream in hushed whispers, noting that it had occurred when Draco started to act differently, but not knowing why. Narcissa checked in on him every hour, leaving Draco with little privacy to do research into time travel. Lucius was concerned, but he was more interested in his son's prodigal ability to master spells. The man had threatened on more than one occasion to keep him home, to teach Draco himself since he had so much potential. It had taken every last bit of Draco's cunning to talk his father out of the notion.
Finally, the first day of school dawned bright and sunny; the complete opposite of Draco's mood. Standing on Platform 9 and ¾, he batted his mother's hand away from fixing his pristine hair. Lucius checked and triple checked that he had everything packed and stored in his trunk. They had arrived early - far too early, as far as Draco was concerned - and the minutes were dragging past even slower now than they had that morning. Harry was so close, but he couldn't go to him. Not yet, no matter how he ached to go outside into the muggle train yard to find Harry and take him through the barrier.
The Weasley's would take care of Harry and Draco had decided he couldn't interfere with the friendship that was meant to grow between Ron and Harry, nor Harry and the rest of the Weasleys. Even Ginny. Draco had almost decided remain sorted into Slytherin, but couldn't bring himself to make the choice. He couldn't know exactly how his actions would change their future, but he couldn't stand the thought of Harry hating him again. Other than that, Draco swore to affect things minimally and only when the outcome caused someone harm. That meant he had to go through the motions of his first day.
He prayed his father forgave him. Becoming a Gryffindor was certainly not how a Malfoy would comport himself. As the train pulled up, his father assured him that he would get the best compartment since he would be one of the first students on the train. His mother scooped him into a tight hug, which he returned while ignoring his father's scowl. Lucius merely offered his hand to shake before Draco took his trunk and boarded the magical train. He picked the same seat as the first time, his trunk stowed in the same compartment, and he quickly pulled on his school robes. Then he sat down to wait for Vincent, Greg, and Pansy.
They didn't disappoint, arriving exactly as Draco expected. The repetition was strange, yet so familiar that he again wondered if this was merely a dream. Surreal was an understatement. Deja vu didn't quite express the weirdness as his friends made themselves at home in his compartment. They giggled and laughed, talking about summer parties and hopes for their schooling. Draco let them, changing the timeline again because he couldn't bring himself to banter with his childhood friends. It wasn't just the weirdness of the situation, but the memory of their betrayals in sixth year. They hadn't happened yet, but Draco had never quite gotten over the hurt of having the four people - Blaise included - being not only the first to turn on him aft er the werewolf bit him, but the most vicious in their taunts.
At the moment, they were just children. They laughed and joked, excited about finally heading to Hogwarts and wondering what being in Slytherin House would be like. Draco almost considered trying to change their futures along with his own. Pansy was remarkable with Charms. Crabbe and Goyle were as skilled at dueling as he was, being his partners as they grew up. They could help defeat Voldemort. They could be his friends. Draco had almost convinced himself it could happen, that they wouldn't turn on him this time, when the they found Neville's toad. Honestly, he had forgotten the incident entirely. It had been a good eight years since it happened the first time and so insignificant at the time. It wasn't, though, when he thought about it now. This was just another reason Harry had hated him.
Crabbe had gone to find the trolley lady for a second helping of sweets, but came back with Trevor the toad instead. "What in Merlin's name is that?" Pansy demanded, nose turned up in disgust. "A toad," the beefy eleven year old was clearly pleased with himself. "Swiped it from some sniveling mudblood, I bed. Who else would bring a stupid toad as a pet, eh?" Laughing in the harsh, braying fashion he had, Goyle held out his hands for the creature.
"Give it here!" he demanded. "We can throw it out the window, or…or drop it down a girls shirt!" "Yeah, that'll be great," Crabbe laughed, throwing the toad to his friend. It went end over end, its eyes bugging out of its head in terror, and right into Draco's hands as he reached up to snatch it from their grasp. Pansy leaned forward, eyes sparkling with sudden interest. Apparently she thought whatever he planned for Trevor would be a hoot.
"What are you going to do with it, Draco?" the nosy girl asked.
Feeling sick to his stomach, Draco forced himself to smile at her. He could remember the first time they'd caught the frog clearly now. They had joked and tossed the toad around, laughing and tormenting the small, helpless creature. Eventually it had ended tucked into Crabbe's robe pockets only to be left behind on the school boats. The memory was quickly replaced with one of Longbottom's face, just after the man had saved his life. Even then he had hated Draco, but they were both on Harry's side that was all the reason Longbottom needed to pull him from the wreckage of a not-so-safe house. There was no way he was torturing the guy's pet frog.
"You'll see," Draco promised as he slipped out into the hallway.
The train was full of chatter as half the compartments were open and the noise crashed against Draco's ears, stark contrast to the quiet of the private compartment. The wolf would have been cringing at the sound, but Draco's merely human ears adjusted quickly as he poked his head into compartment after compartment. Somewhere he would find Longbottom, then he could give the boy back his pet and stop touching the slimy thing. When he did, he nearly turned around to avoid the encounter entirely because Longbottom was standing beside Hermione Granger in front of the compartment occupied by none other than Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Unfortunately, Neville spotted his toad before Draco could make a break for it.
"Trevor!" he cried and happily took the toad from Draco's hands. "Thank you! Where ever did you find him?" "In the corridor on the way to the loo," he lied, giving a polite nod in Granger's direction. "That was very kind of you," the muggleborn witch said in the bossy tone he remembered so well. "You really shouldn't be out in the corridors, though. We'll be arriving soon. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. What's your name?" "Draco Malfoy," he replied, holding out his hand for both to shake after only a moment's hesitation. The girl took it, but Longbottom let out an undignified squeak and stared at him with wide eyes. "Malfoy?" the boy asked fretfully, "The Malfoys? My Gran told me about your family. Dark wizards and known supporters of You-Know-Who!" Draco couldn't help but blush, his ears turning pink with the force. The original eleven year old Draco would have made some cutting comment about Longbottom's parents, but now he just felt like a freak experiment. Especially with the way Granger was now looking at him.
"Right, excuse me," Draco muttered and pushed past them.
Without thinking, he ducked into the nearest open compartment and slid the door shut. Behind him, someone abruptly stopped talking about a break in at Gringotts. Draco cursed himself, slowly turning around to come face to face with the exact people had been trying to avoid. His mouth opened, but he had no idea what to say. Since the door had been open, they must have heard Longbottom's idiotic, yet truthful, declaration about his family. Weasley already knew, but he had been hoping to convince Harry he was a good guy before telling him about his father's past history with the people who had killed Harry's family.
So much for that plan. Just before the silence became awkward, Harry came to his rescue.
"Draco, right? We met at Madam Malkin's." "Yeah, I remember," he replied eagerly, ignoring how obvious the relief would be on his face. "D'you mind if I join you? I'm, uh-" "Hiding?" Ron offered.
Draco skewered him with a look, but Harry interrupted the fight before it even began. "You were going to tell me about Quidditch, remember?"
"What? You don't know Quidditch?" Ron blurted, looking dumbfounded even as he forgot about their family's animosity in the face of his new best friend not knowing about his favorite sport. "Oh you wait, it's the best…"
Draco was surprised as he took a seat across from Harry, on the redhead's left. He and Weasley had never gotten along and he hadn't expected that to change to this time around either. The best he could hope for was tolerance, but that had briefly seemed impossible with their initial meeting. Yet, he soon found himself animatedly talking about Quidditch with Ron while they explained the game to Harry. Before the train arrived, Ron seemed to accept him as a friend, especially when they realized they liked the same Quidditch team (though Ron was mad if he thought the Chudley Cannons were better than Ireland). Harry was never once left out, asking questions and listening as the other two boys discussed strategy, players and famous matches. Ron had, of course, not gone to nearly as many games as Draco, but he didn't rub it into the boy's face like he would have when he was younger.
By the time the train pulled into the Hogsmeade Station, Draco realized with a jolt that he had just made friends with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. If this was supposed to be torture, Voldemort was losing his edge.