Chapter Text
The war had long since passed, Harry was now in his early twenties and working as an Auror, Harry looked back on his time at Hogwarts with a mixture of sadness, wishes of change and the slightest hints of disdain. His engagement to Ginny had been one of the few good outcomes from his time there.
He’d been distracted by his thoughts of Hogwarts whilst sorting through the evidence of a current case he’d been investigating, something to do with a young wizard messing with things he shouldn’t have just yet. It would most likely land the child with a slap on the wrist but Harry still needed to sort through the mess that had been made.
He’d been moving an oddly coloured potion from the evidence box when it slipped from his hands, the potion tumbling rather quickly to the floor in a way that was almost comical with the way it tumbled before splashing onto the floor. Harry closed his eyes to avoid any of this unknown potion from getting into them, but if he had opened his eyes…he would have seen the world shift around him and he would have seen his own body shift and change in ways it shouldn’t have been able to.
Soon he was surrounded by the sounds of laughter and yells, people rushing around him and the distinct sound of a train horn. That alone made Harry’s eyes open in surprise, he’d been in his office just moments before but now…
Now he was in King Cross station of all places or really, just outside it. He looked around to take stock of what could have happened and paused at the sight of Hedwig staring at him from her cage. His eyes misted at the sight of her white coat and he moved towards his luggage and tucked his fingers in between the bars to gently pet his old owl’s head.
He quietly wondered what that potion could have done, it hadn’t escaped him that his hands were smaller, less scared and skinny in a way that wasn’t healthy. Had Harry really travelled back…was he really…
Harry grabbed the trolley his bags sat upon and started to wheel them towards the closest paper stand within the station, he was discreet when he looked for the date. His heart seemed to stop as he saw the date.
‘ 01/09/1991’
The first of September…nineteen-ninety-one. Harry was back to his first year.
That damn potion.
Harry took a calming breath as he started to slowly push his luggage towards the platforms of King Cross, his green eyes narrowed as he looked for the time on one of the many clocks within the station. Quarter to ten, he had an hour and some change before he was due to get on the train, with a quick glance around he slipped towards the barrier between platform nine and ten. He wouldn’t make the same mistake he made before and was quick to slip through the barrier and onto platform 9¾.
He could see the platform wasn’t particularly busy yet and the conductor wasn’t letting anyone on until at least ten AM. So, with that in mind Harry found a mostly empty bench and settled down. He had to get his thoughts together, figure out what the hell had happened.
Harry had been sorting confiscated potions, none of which had any labels to tell him what they did. He was supposed to be cataloguing what they looked like, they’re weight and what potions they might resemble before sending them off to someone in the potions department to test them. He remembered dropping one and if he was right, there wasn’t much chance that this was an illusion based on the fact this felt far too realistic to be one.
So, if Harry’s hunch is correct, then that potion was some sort of time-travel potion that should not exist. He’d have to remember to keep an eye out in the future for that child and encourage him to have proper schooling in potions.
“Mother, please.” A familiar pompous voice whined out, bringing Harry out of his thoughts. He could just make out the striking blonde hair of Draco Malfoy, standing in front of his mother who was talking to him in French. Harry had never gotten his head around the language but seeing Draco of all people fluster of his mothers fussing was something he never thought he’d see. Harry noted the distinct absence of the head of the Malfoy home.
“My little dragon, you must remember your manières . Your père and I will be most upset if we receive word of any méchanceté from you. Do you understand?” Harry heard the woman ask, he almost laughed at the embarrassed noise that escaped the other boy. Clearly, this was a conversation that had happened quite a few times.
“Yes, maman . I hear you, I will do my best to bring nothing but pride to the Malfoy family.” Harry felt pity for the other boy, not realising that he was already under so much pressure from his family at the tender age of eleven.
Harry wondered then, if perhaps he could befriend the other and stop him from being turned to Voldemort’s side. The idea does make him feel a little sick, befriending someone who had spent so much time bullying him and his friends throughout school, but perhaps if he had someone to tell him to stop and actually think of his actions…
Harry was going to have to dig out a journal and a pen to make a list of goals for the first year at least. He’d probably do that once he was on the train, he could figure out how he-
“ Excusez-moi, jeune homme. May my son and I join you on this bench, we have travelled quite far you see and are as you say, weary.” Narcissa Malfoy was as striking as she was when he last saw her, a beautiful face with lips as red as rubies and her blue eyes as bright as sapphires. She was giving Harry a look that resembled his aunts in a way that said this wasn’t truly a request but an order.
“O-oh, of course,” Harry mentally winced at how unsure his voice sounded as he moved Hedwig and his luggage to the side and scooted to the end of the bench to allow them to sit. “It’s lovely to meet you both, may I ask what your names are?” Harry asked, Narcissa’s lip lifted ever so slightly at the curiosity in his voice but clearly she was keeping up appearances.
“I am Lady Narcissa Malfoy, wife of Lord Lucius Malfoy and mother to Heir Draco Malfoy. I am the youngest daughter of Lord Cygnus Black and Lady Druella Black,” The woman introduced from her spot in front of him, standing tall and looking down upon him like he smelt of rotting sewage. “And you are?” Narcissa asked, her eyes running over Harry, he was glad his hair covered his scar right now. With a deep breath Harry smiled towards the pair, ignoring the confused look Draco was sending him.
“My name’s Harry, ma’am. Harry Potter,” Harry introduced, the whole ‘heir’, Lord and Lady thing throwing him for a moment. Was that something he should have known? “It’s lovely to meet you both, you sound like you come from a rather large family.” Harry complimented. Black? Black? Draco was a black?
“Harry Potter ,” Narcissa’s voice was shocked before the woman pulled herself together. With quick movements she pulled Draco from behind her and pushed him towards Harry slightly. “My son, Draco will be in your year. Perhaps a friendship could form between the pair of you. The Potters and the Malfoys, such powerful houses-” Narcissa slipped into French once more and Harry almost laughed at the look Draco had on his face, one that showed his mother was embarrassing him.
“I urm…I apologise ma’am, but I’m not quite following you,” Harry interrupted her, voice unsure. “You see…I was raised by my aunt and uncle ma’am. I only recently found out that I was a wizard this last month.” He admitted, he made sure to keep his innocent act up as much as he could. “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘houses’, is this something I should know?” He decided that he’d ask Draco about it at some point.
“You don’t know-?” Draco’s voice started before he shook his head, his mother seemed to back off for a moment, letting Draco speak. “Wizarding houses are incredibly important, one's house and their appearance is important within Wizarding society. The Blacks, Malfoys and Potters are old and powerful houses, a friendship between our houses could be quite lucrative within the future.” The blonde boy puffed his chest out as he spoke, clearly repeating things he’d heard during those ‘High society’ meetings. Harry simply smiled towards him.
“So…Houses are just families that have lived a long time within the Wizarding world?” Harry asked, head tilting to the side in ‘thought’. “I’m honestly just happy to make friends, my aunt and uncle were not keen on that as I grew up,” Harry stated, looking between the pair. He could see Narcissa’s eyes harden at the revelation, good. Still a woman driven by love it seemed. “I hope to be friends with you, Draco. But I will say I won’t turn a friendship away unless someone does something I truly don’t agree with. I’m not one to judge others just because of where they come from. That wouldn’t be fair.” Harry explained, he could see Draco’s lip curl at the idea but Narcissa…Narcissa simply smiled.
“I think that’s a wonderful sentiment. However, there are some families and people that you really should stray from young Mr Potter. They’re are plenty of people who would be all too…excited in befriending a boy of your standing.” Narcissa stated calmly and Harry scrunched up his nose in mock confusion, though there was some truth in his expression.
“I’m not following ma’am.” Harry explained, shifting on the bench as Narcissa and Draco joined him on the bench.
“Oh you poor garçon. Of course you wouldn’t understand. Raised by muggles….” Narcissa trailed off for a moment, her hand coming up to her cheek with a sigh. “There are quiet a few families and people out there…that would hear your name and decide you would be a perfect ticket to fame.” Narcissa explained gently, pushing her hand up to move her hair back.
“They’re a right sort, Harry. Mother and father have taught me how to spot someone befriending you for fame and name instead of for what you truly can offer. There is this one lot, the Armorim family for example, they produce so many children and marry them off into more wealthy and higher ranked families, its quite the scandal whenever it happens because a lot of the time they’ve had they’re children befriend those they intend to marry to convince the parents to agree.” Draco admitted, Harry blinked in understanding. Surprise evident on his face as he thought about it.
He remembered his first and second year, one Abigail Armorim attempting to befriend himself and Ron. He actually remembers Ron telling the girl to sod off on quite a number of occasions before she started to follow a Slytherin who’s name escaped Harry.
“People…would really befriend me just for my name?” He asked, he knew the answer and honestly the thought of Ron from earlier sprung in his brain.
‘ Bloody hell! you’re Harry potter!’
“Of course…have you really never been around high society?” Draco’s voice was curious as the boy leaned around his mother to look at Harry with open curiosity.
“No…my family…they urm…they wouldn’t want me around people when they visited, said I’d bring too much shame..” Harry ducked his head a bit. “I didn’t understand it until my letter arrived…they were so mad. I…I had to hide in my cupboard too-” He covered his mouth here, shocked by how easily he was giving this information over.
Could the potion be affecting more than he realised??
“Your…cupboard?” Narcissa turned to Draco with concern on her face. “ Qu’est-ce qu’il veut dire, placard? Il ne veut pas dire qu’il a été entreposé avec les balais, n’est-ce pas? ” Narcissa questioned Draco, her French too fast for Harry to even attempt to break down. He watched Draco look between him and his mother before setting his jaw.
“ Regardez-le mère, il est plus mince qu’un elfe de maison. Je ne pense pas qu’on s’occupe de lui du tout. N’y a-t-il pas quelque chose à faire? ” The pair continued to talk to one another in French and at some point Harry would swear he heard the name Snape. But with how Quickly they were talking, Harry couldn’t be too sure.
“ All Aboard for Hogwarts express! ” Harry jolted at the voice of the conductor, standing quickly to grab his bags.
“Ah! It is time to say Au revoir, my little Draco,” The woman turned to Draco, kissing the boys cheeks a few times whilst the other eleven year old squirmed. If you had told Harry he’d be seeing an eleven year old Draco being given such affection and reacting with embarrassment…he would have laughed. “You do as you're told. Go on now.” the woman waved Draco away, giving Harry a genuinely kind smile. “You be safe as well young Mr Potter.” she told them.
“Ah-yes urm-” he felt boney fingers grab his arm as Draco started to pull him towards the train.
“Come on, we need to find somewhere quickly before the carriages get filled,” Draco continued to pull him and Harry followed quickly.
Already so much was different than his first original day in Hogwarts…and yet, it seemed to be starting on a relatively good foot. Who would have thought.
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Harry had been slightly surprised when Draco had dragged him onto the carriage just after the Teacher’s only carriage and even brought Harry into an empty compartment with him. Harry would admit that he never thought the eleven year old version of Draco Malfoy would be so…nice.
As adults the pair had put their differences aside, having met up a few years after the war and getting everything off of their chests. Harry learnt of Draco’s childhood that night, from the abuse he faced from Lucious and the car he received from Narcissa. Harry had understood that Draco had been nurtured into the life he led. Last he’d heard, Draco had just accepted a position as a potion professor at Hogwarts.
Harry hoped that perhaps by befriending him and gently correcting his views during his time at school that they could avoid Draco repeating past experiences. Harry’s eyes shifted to the other boy as Draco flitted around his trunk, seeming to be looking for something within it.
“Are you…looking for something?” Harry asked curiously, Draco hummed as he popped out from his trunk with ‘ Magical Drafts and Potions’ Harry’s eyes widened as he recognised the recommended reading for first years. Draco gave him a calculating look before nodding to the book as he shoved his trunk back into the luggage rack.
“I’ve got it on good affinity that the potions professor is rather strict, I thought it would be best to make sure my knowledge is as up to date as possible.” Draco stated, already cracking the book open. Harry hummed slowly for a moment.
Perhaps starting the first year off on Snape’s good side would be smart.
“We could study together? Quiz one another on different ingredients and stuff?” Harry suggested, watching Draco pause in his reading and give him an unsure look.
“...you are not…” Draco began before shaking his head at Harry, giving him a smile that made Harry’s own break out. “I’ve not studied with another person my age in quite some time, I think that sounds like a rather splendid idea.” Draco stated.
“Wicked!” Harry enthused, standing on the seat to open his case. Quietly, he couldn’t believe it would have been this easy to befriend Draco, but perhaps they really had gotten off on the wrong foot all those years ago. Finding the book in question, he settled back down beside Draco with an excited hum.
Don’t get Harry wrong, the idea of studying before the train even started moving wasn’t the thing that excited him, no. It was the fact he was studying in a way that he liked. He had always been someone who needed to be challenged when learning, asked questions to recall information. Hermione had always demanded silence from both Harry and Ron whenever they studied, but it just never sat right with him.
“What are the two characteristics of the Cure for Boils?” Draco asked, looking at his book. Harry hummed, trying to recall that potion off the top of his head. It had been a long time since he had even brewed that potion, but he was confident he remembered it.
“Blue in colour and…emits a…pur-no pink smoke when completed.” Harry said unsure, looking to Draco to confirm. The blonde grinned at him.
“Exactly correct! My turn, come on Potter, hurry up and test me!” Draco closed his book, waiting for Harry to open his own to question him.
“Oh! Just call me Harry please, calling me Potter…it feels way too formal for a friend,” Harry explained, keeping his eyes on his book as he flipped through the pages. If he’d look up he would have seen Draco’s shocked expression. “Oh, what effect does the Pompion potion have on a person?”
“Oh-urm-” Draco went quiet for a moment, Harry glanced up as the boy scratched his cheek in thought. “Isn’t…does it not turn a person’s head into that of a pumpkin?” Draco questioned, voice unsure. Harry grinned at him.
“Yeah! It says ‘ upon consumption, the head shall swell and change hue until it matches that of a pumpkin. After a few seconds the head itself will fully transform into that of a pumpkin.’ that’s such a weird potion…” Harry trailed off with a hum.
“Yes, I’ve seen it in action once,” Draco admitted, Harry looked up in curiosity as Draco grinned at him. “Father had been rather busy all day, handling some affairs to do with other important families, I was only six at the time but the Nox family had brought their eldest son and daughter as well. They’re a few years older than us, you see, but they were bored and had heard of the house elves within my family home-”
“I see we’ve already made a new friend.” A familiar, monotone voice stated from the door behind Harry. Catching both boys' attention rather quickly. Harry turned, quietly shocked to realise that Professor Snape of all people had taken the Hogwarts express to school in his first year.
“Ah! Se-Professor!” Draco looked unsure, nervous even. “Potter and myself were simply discussing potions and their effects on the consumers.” Harry had fully kept his attention on Snape, not missing the way the man’s eyes widened ever so slightly at his name.
“ Potter ,” the man stated calmly, looking down at Harry with disdain. Harry mentally rolled his eyes, it seemed the man didn’t like him. “Leaving studying till the final moment are we?” Snape asked, Harry frowned a little as he thought about how to answer.
“I…I wasn’t permitted to touch my books at home sir. If my relatives saw them they would have burned them,” Harry admitted. “I’d been rather excited to read the potions book since I got it and was able to read a few chapters without them noticing, but I didn’t want to risk it getting damaged or destroyed.” Harry could see the man's eyes narrow at him.
He had spent many years after the war looking into Snape’s relationship with his parents, after their final conversation within the shrieking shack…Harry was determined not to let this man perish in such a way this time. Harry also wasn’t discounting the fact that Snape may take pity on him if he acted more like his mother than his father.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t have destroyed anything of value to you .” Snape scoffed, Harry felt his own jaw tighten, deciding to push a little at this point.
“They’ve done it before. They found out I had a picture of my mum and…well, now I don’t.” Harry shrugged, this hadn’t happened until Harry’s third year but what Snape didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. The face the man made was a split between disbelief, grief and confusion.
“I…I see. Well, Malfoy , be sure not to get distracted from your studies. Potter…make sure you take as much of that information in as you can. I won’t go easy on you in my class if you are behind.” the man dismissed, Harry widened his eyes in mock surprise.
“Oh. Do you teach herbology sir? We’re studying potions at the moment but I’ll be sure-” Draco’s snickers beside him were enough of an indicator to stop speaking, he turned his head to Draco in confusion. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked, Snape scoffed towards him.
“I teach Potions young mister Potter, the subject you're currently reading up on,” The man's voice was oddly full of amusement. “Back to studying you two.” Snape dismissed them once more, leaving before either boy could say goodbye.
“How the bloody hell did you get away with that?” Draco asked, astonishment clear in his voice. Harry simply shrugged, a smile on his face as he turned back to Draco.
“Can we continue? I really do want to do well in potions, it's really interesting!”
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“They found out I had a picture of my mum and…well, now I don’t. ”
That sentence had thrown Severus, he had fully expected Harry Potter to be a spoilt, petulant brat…but the boy he had just met had been…honest, overly honest really, but he’d also shown a keen interest in learning as well.
“Everything alright Severus?” Professor Burbage asked, sipping a drink of tea as he made his way back into the cabin. Sprout and Hooch both looked towards him in quiet curiosity, Snape found himself sighing as he heard the tell-tale sound of the final stragglers making their way onto the train.
“I simply went to make sure the students weren’t being too rambunctious.” Snape dismissed the woman as he settled into his chair.
“Ah, I suppose the returning Slytherin’s certainly silenced the moment they saw their head of House on the train.” Hooch teased ever so slightly, Severus shot the woman a warning look as he pulled out a book from his robe.
“I saw a few of them, yes. However, I had hoped to find the Weasley brats and remind them not to start anything like they did last year, if I remember from your regale of the story…setting over one hundred chocolate frogs off in the middle of the journey is not something I wish to see.”
“Oh don’t be such a-” Hooch began but Sprout was quick to cut the other off.
“No, he is right. Last year's journey was horrible, they weren’t nearly punished harshly enough for such an escapade and that was only because Minerva wasn’t on school grounds. If she had been here she would have thrown them over the closest banister and made sure their bottoms matched their hair. I would have, had they fallen into my house,” Sprout shook her head in annoyance. “Did you make sure the pair know you’re on the train this year?” she asked, voice hopeful.
“It is the reason Minerva requested I take the train this year,” Snape quipped dryly. “I saw them getting on and made sure that some of the…louder students caught sight of me. If it’s not all over the train that I am here then I’ll be rather surprised.” Snape dismissed.
“I suppose that’s fair,” Hooch commented, yellow eyes twinkling as she leaned forward in her chair. “Did you hear that we’re expecting Harry Potter as a first year? Imagine, the flying ability that boy may possess. If he’s anything like his father-”
“I doubt he is,” Snape cut her off, surprising himself at the comment, but he continued on. “To expect him to be the same as his father is a frivolous thought, not one of the Weasley twins are similar in personality, at least not the ones who did not share a womb.” He recalled, watching the yellow eyed woman look away.
“Right, of course.” Hooch looked dejected, but Sprout at least seemed to want to salvage the conversation.
“I am intrigued though. No one knows where that boy has lived since that fateful day, but it must have been with a powerful witch or wizard. Hopefully he will have some advanced knowledge on Herbology or potions.” The woman mused, Snape felt his eye twitch at the thought. He schooled his expression as he listened to the others.
“Perhaps! Oh, merlin. Imagine, he’s probably so far ahead of the other students. Do you think he’ll find the first year boring?” Burbage fretted and Snape sighed and closed his eyes, deciding to nip this thought in the bud.
“Mr Potter is a child. A child who, might I add, is going to be your student. I had a brief conversation with him not ten minutes ago,” He cast a look upon the three women in his cart, all looking at him in shock. “And he is not advanced in any magical knowledge. From what I’ve gathered, the boy was raised as a muggle. He’s not aware of half the things magic can do nor what can come with it.” He watched the three digest this information before Burbage spoke up once more.
“But he’s the boy who lived.” She reasoned and Snape honestly felt like he was talking to a wall.
“He’s also a child. He needs boundaries and authority figures within his life that he knows he can’t weasel around to get his way,” he could see Burbage gearing up for another argument, so he continued. “He’s in a school to learn what he can and can’t do, in life and with magic. He needs guidance and treating him as a celebrity will do nothing to assist in that.”
Sure, if Minerva had been around them she would have called Severus on his earlier complaints about having to teach ‘a privileged, snivelling brat’. But that was for him to know and the other teachers to never find out.
Hopefully, Mr Potter proves him wrong this year. That brief interaction certainly brought some semblance of hope to the situation.