The next morning, bright and early Harry was waiting outside Draco's room when Draco came out, looking slightly bleary as he saw Harry leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Draco managed a smug grin, "I see you didn't enter my room."
Harry shrugged a little bit in response. "I didn't even bother to try. It's 4:28."
Draco frowned at Harry, there was an air of self-assurance that Harry had at the moment that made Draco wonder if it was all a bluff.
Draco had only slept about four hours, which was pretty good for him over the past week. His body seemed to be adjusting to it. Draco had been plagued by nightmares since he entered this world. And there was something about sleep that left him feeling like he was dead again, so it still made him uneasy.
Draco had spent almost an hour in bed the night before, thinking about this world. He didn't think there was a word that had been invented to describe how relieved he was to find Potter on the train. He had spent a week wondering if he had journeyed through the mirror alone. Thankfully his parents were naturally distant and left him to his own devices, unless he was required for familial duties.
He had a hard time even thinking of his parents as his parents at the moment. Draco remembered with bitterness their complete lack of action regarding him when Voldemort had killed him in the past world. They both seemed like they were the same in this world as well. Draco's memories of both worlds and their actions matched almost perfectly and it made him angry. However, he managed to keep it to himself as he went through his days.
He had gone with his "Father" to the quidditch World Cup. When he saw Iris he wondered for just a moment if she had Harry's memories from their world, but one look at her eyes had told him all he needed to know. Iris had had a troubled and distracted air, but he could tell her eyes hadn't seen the memories he knew of his world.
Draco had barely paid attention to the match. He had thought that that he was alone on this world, and had no idea how he might avoid the same fate that he had ended up with in the other world. The magical world in ruins and himself dead before he was 23.
That all changed after the cup. He and his mother had left afterwards and skipped the post-match revelry at his father's insistence. Which was a good thing as his father and several friends had dressed in full death eater regalia and terrorized the people there, reminding them that the death eaters were still present.
The first time it had happened, in the old world, Draco had seen it as a sign of power. The death eaters having the entire wizarding world cowering in fear before them. Now Draco just felt ill at the whole thing.
However, Draco remembered as his father apparated home, shouting for one of the house elves to bring him a wound cleansing potion. His father had been hit in the arm by a piece of wooden debris, that was still lodged there. When Lucius described the battle, he did so between snarls of rage, and talked about the assailant thinking it was two or three wizards who had counter attacked. Draco had been surprised that anyone had stood up to them since no one had in the last world. Until his father had described the whirlwind.
Draco had heard that same spell described more than once by a frustrated Bellatrix in his old world. She had been incensed that it was impossible to flank or to corner someone when they used that spell. And it was dangerous just being close by that spell, because if it moved or sucked in a death eater, they were as good as dead.
When Lucius described the spell, Draco knew without a doubt that meant that the Harry Potter he knew was present on this world.
For the next week he had kept his eyes open as he watched anytime they were in public looking for any sign. Today he had been checking every compartment in the train on the off chance that Potter might show up there. He hadn't known what to expect if he actually saw Potter. However he had not expected to find Harry the way he did. When Draco had seen him, Draco had been shocked to see the familiar, unscarred and youthful face, minus the glasses, looking back at him.
Draco wasn't even sure what he was going to do until Potter had held a wand up with the end sparking threateningly. The way that Potter was so blasé about either obliviating him or killing him had made the decision for Draco. If Potter was here, then that meant that he wasn't going to just let things stand the way they were. If there was one thing about Harry that Draco knew with absolute certainty, it was that he wouldn't be able to help jumping in to interfere, so things didn't end up the same way.
Draco knew that Potter wasn't going to trust his word, and Draco couldn't blame him. Draco had sworn the loyalty oath without hesitation. He knew it was the only thing that would keep Potter from carrying out his threat. Draco was honest enough with himself to admit that he wasn't doing it because he was suddenly this good person, fighting for the light or anything like that. His actions were purely out of self-preservation.
However, Draco had been quickly disabused of the notion that this was exactly the Potter he remembered. Draco was surprised at the harshness that crept into Potter's voice from time to time. Nor was he quite prepared for the bitterness or the level of disgust that entered Potter's voice when talking about himself.
Three times now he had seen Harry tense up in anger. Each time his eyes had begun to gleam, or outright glow. Though thankfully two of the times were in private and the other they hadn't gone to outright glowing otherwise Potter's reaction would have drawn a crowd. Draco was forced to wonder if Harry wasn't, in some ways, more damaged than Draco was after dying. But he kept his concerns to himself.
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