Chapter Text
Draco
“Fuck!” Draco slammed the book shut. It had no more clues than the last dozen on why the time-turner wasn’t working. He sighed and pulled the long chain of the Time-Turner over his neck, tucking it under his shirt.
When Theo had found the Time-Turner hidden among his father’s Dark artefacts, they thought they had found a way out. Draco was smart enough to fix the broken vanishing cabinet; surely he could repair the artefact, and then they could go back before the Dark Lord rose and escape. But no, this was a dead end just like everything else they thought of.
Originally, Draco thought they only needed a Portkey. He could grab his mother and Theo, then retreat to the Gadagne Château in France and keep their heads down until the war ended. The estate was an inheritance from his great-uncle that his mother had kept from his father. A place that would always be safe for her and Draco.
She hadn’t even told Draco about it until Yule break in sixth year, when he finally broke. Witnessing the depravities of Death Eaters that his father let into the Manor had woken him up to the reality of what life would actually be like under the Dark Lord. His mother caught him vomiting after a particularly vile revel. Soothing him, she spoke of “the prince’s estate”, an escape hidden from everyone. Only to be spoken about in code. But none of her precautions mattered because the mark on his arm meant that the Dark Lord could always find him, and his mother wouldn’t leave without him.
Draco shoved his hands in his hair as he hung his head. Think, think. There must be more information on time-turners. Another angle he could try. If only he had gone to Dumbledore when he had first been marked, he was sure the old man would have had a way to keep them safe.
pop Tipsy apparated into existence, balancing a dinner tray. The house-elf’s ears drooped low. Her clothes, made out of a hessian sackcloth, were stained and wet. Her appearance was even more pitiful due to the cuts and abrasions on her face.
“Supper, Young Master.”
“Tipsy, what happened?”
“Mistress Bellatrix did not like the wine, so Mistress punished Tipsy.” The house-elf's large eyes were on the verge of tears.
“I told you not to be in the room when they drink. You are to make sure everything is in the parlour before they enter and then hide,” Draco sighed, exasperated.
“Sorry, Young Master, but Master finished the last bottle of fire whiskey. Tipsy should have left three bottles. Bad Tipsy.”
“Fucking Lucius!” Tipsy started hitting her head with her hands. “Shit. Sorry, Tipsy, stop, don’t punish yourself. You did the right thing, come here and I will fix your face.”
Draco carefully cupped the house-elf’s face. “Episkey.” Glass pushed its way out of the small cuts as they healed. Draco scowled at the thought of his aunt throwing a glass at Tipsy.
How, in Merlin’s name, is he able to keep them all safe?
“Scourgify.” Her clothing was at least dry and slightly cleaner, but still in rags.
“Thank you, Young Master. Tipsy will do better.”
“Just stay safe, Tipsy.” Tipsy busied herself setting up Draco’s dinner.
pop Mipsy apparated into the room, wringing his hands.
“Master requires Young Master in the drawing room.”
“What’s going on Mipsy, is He here?”
“No, Young Master. Nasty snatchers is here.”
Draco grimaced and headed downstairs. Snatchers in the manor were never good; with Lucius asking for him, it could only be worse. What fresh hell was waiting for him? Will he be made to torture muggles, or just watch? Either way, he was glad he hadn’t eaten yet; there was no way anything was staying down if experience was anything to go by.
The drawing room was once so welcoming, the grand fireplace warming the room, scattered walnut tables for friendly games of chess or cards, and dazzling cut-glass chandeliers twinkling brightly over it all. Instead, there were four filthy men- fuck, not all men; that’s Greyback- holding onto three bedraggled captives. Damn, Aunt Bellatrix is here too. This is going to be a bloody nightmare. He could see his mother’s pale form in the background, standing with his father, who had an eager look in his eyes.
“We found him, nephew.” Aunt Bellatrix cackled. “Tell us, is that Harry Potter?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. The Dark Lord will never be defeated, his mother will never be safe, and their lives will be over. Draco slammed on his Occlumency hard before turning to the captives; his face was a mask of calm disinterest, though his mind was racing.
Messy black hair, same height as Potter, skinny, no glasses, swollen face, distorted scar. Salazar, it’s definitely Potter, not the best disguise but enough room for doubt. Maybe he can buy some time so Potter can pull one of his miracles out of his arse to escape. “I can’t be sure.”
His craven waste of a father gripped Draco’s arm. “The red head, surely it’s a Weasley.” Draco’s eyes met the horrified eyes of Ronald Weasley. Roughed up, but not disfigured like Potter, how to dissemble? “There are so many Weasley I can’t keep track of them. It could be, the redheads look all the same.”
Lucius pulled Draco in front of the last captive. “I’ve seen her in the Prophet, she's Potter’s mudblood.” Granger, skinny, bruised, and defiantly staring him down. Right, so she was the reason Potter’s face was messed up.
Fuck, why did they have to get caught. I can’t get discovered lying, I'll get killed outright. “Maybe, yeah, it could be.”
Bellatrix's manic grin overtook her face. Lucius looked equally as excited. His mother has her mask on, she knows this wouldn’t get them back into His good graces, everything would only get worse.
“The Dark Lord will be so pleased with me for finding them. We will be rewarded. Lucius, call Him,” Bellatrix imperiously decreed.
“We found them, we should be rewarded,” the heavyset snatcher standing at the front of the group demanded. Grayback was standing at his side with a large sword. The other snatchers behind him with their wands out.
Bellatrix turned her attention to them and barked. “Where did you get that!” Her entire attention was fixed on the sword.
“It’s mine by right; I found it in the girl’s bag,” Grayback growled.
“Wait Lucius!” Bellatrix screeched. Red flares erupted from her wand, stunning and binding the snatchers. “Remove them from the room.”
“But the Dark Lord…” Lucius started.
“I said not yet Lucius. Dump the snatchers out back.” She turned to Draco. “Nephew, take Potter and the blood-traitor to the dungeons. The mudblood and I are going to have a girl talk.”
Okay, this could work. He just needs to get Potter out of the room. If he saves him surely the Order of the Phoenix will offer his mother and him safe harbour.
“Not her, take me!” Weasley shouts.
“No!” Potter yells.
Draco binds their arms while shoving them out of the room, where Peter Pettigrew is waiting.
“You bastard. Get your bloody hands off me. Hermione!” Weasley continues shouting as they are dragged to the dungeon.
While Pettigrew is occupied taking them down the dungeon stairs, Draco calls Mipsy quietly.
pop As soon as he arrives Draco whispers, “Mipsy, go get Dobby. Tell him that Potter is here and he needs to rescue him from the dungeon.”
Mipsy nods and apparates away. pop
Okay, Potter has a rescue on the way. Now how was he going to get Granger? The Order would want their Golden Girl as well. Draco could hear Granger’s screams as he dragged his feet back to the drawing room. Gods he didn’t want to go back in there.
Lucius joined him just outside the room hissing into his ear. “Your aunt will sort out the mudblood and then we will deliver Potter to the Dark Lord. We will rise again. Watch closely boy, this is how the Malfoy name will be redeemed.”
The man was delusional. Lucius clamped a hand on Draco’s shoulder, propelling him back into the room.
There she was, his deranged aunt, gleefully Crucioing Granger, all while yelling about her vault. Granger was pleading with Bellatrix, saying no, she didn’t go into her vault.
What did she think, Granger was a master criminal breaking into the impregnable Gringotts.
He could see the rage overcome Bellatrix, as she dropped her wand to pull out a knife, cackling as she knelt on Granger and started carving her arm.
All he could do was stand there and stare, building his occlumency walls high to keep his terror at bay. His mother, pale and stoic, moved behind him, placing her hand gently on him. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling her love and support through the touch. They will weather this. They will get through somehow.
“Expelliarmus.” Potter and Weasley stormed back into the room. Draco’s wand went flying over to Potter.
Bellatrix hauled Granger up in front of her, she had the knife pressed to her throat. “Ah-ah-ah boys. If you want this one alive you’ll put down those wands.”
Potter and Weasley looked conflicted, but dropped their wands at their feet.
“Draco, go collect their wands.”
He walked slowly over collecting the wands from Potter and Weasley. Why hadn’t Dobby apparated them away? Did the message not get to Dobby?
screech, screech Everyone looked up. Dobby was on the chandelier unscrewing the bolt, Granger and Bellatrix stood directly underneath. Bellatrix screamed and flung herself to safety, leaving a slumped Granger behind.
Fuck, Potter won’t forgive them if she dies here. Draco threw himself on top of Granger just as the chandelier crashed down.
His body shrieked in pain as smashing glass shattered all around him. He felt a crack as the Time-Turner broke on his chest. Golden sand spilled down his front onto Granger’s back. He could feel his blood pooling in his lungs.
Please gods, don’t let me die. Let me try again.
Everything went black.