Chapter Text
The Future You
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Darkness.
At the age of five, darkness seemed to be the only companion which Harry had. He held his knees close and curled himself into a ball, just as he did at many other nights. He didn’t quite remember what he did this time that angered his uncle. But the result was always the same, getting yelled at, sometimes beaten and it was always being shoved back into this dark, tiny cupboard.
He sniffed and wiped his face with his oversized sleeve. He wondered why no one loved him.
Because you’re a freak!
A voice in his head “helpfully” supplied.
He held back a sob, shook his head and murmured to himself,
“I wish s’one would love me…”
Of course, he knew he would get no reply. Silence filled the air as usual. He started counting, trying to fall asleep and forget about everything.
Thud!
He raised his head, startled. It seemed that something heavy had landed onto the floor in the cupboard.
“Salazar!” a voice exclaimed. “Where the hell is this place?”
Harry held his breath, didn’t dare move or make any noise. There was someone else in the cupboard with him!
“Ouch!” It appeared that the stranger had bumped his head. It was too dark to see what he looked like. The person’s voice was low, so Harry guessed he was a guy, who then muttered a word that he hadn’t heard of before.
“That’s much better,” the guy said. “Lumos.”
Suddenly, there was light! Harry covered his mouth with both hands to prevent himself from gasping or screaming or both. The inside of the cupboard seemed to be enlarged a lot.
Has the cupboard become the TARDIS?
And he got to see the intruder. He had blonde hair, grey eyes, pale skin, a pointed nose and chin, wearing expensive (but weird)-looking clothes. He was holding a stick and its tip was glowing.
‘Did I fall asleep so quickly?’ Harry thought, still pretending that he wasn’t there.
The blonde guy looked around for a few moments and finally noticed Harry sitting in the corner.
“Wah!” he yelled, backed away a few inches. “Scared the bloody hell out of me.”
Harry blinked, still didn’t remove his hands from his mouth.
The man leaned closer and squinted, “Harry?”
His eyes widened, too shocked to know that the stranger knew who he was. The man did something with the wooden stick, looking shocked when he somehow found out what year it was currently. Then he stared at Harry, appeared to be deep in thoughts.
Didn’t know what he should do, Harry decided he would just ask the first question that came into his mind, “Are you an angel?”
Before the angel burst out laughing, he waved the wooden stick and uttered something like “silence”. “An angel! I should tell Potter about this,” he laughed. “See what his face would be like.”
“Do you know my dad?” Harry asked hopefully. “or his family?”
Then Mr Angel stopped laughing and he didn’t look happy anymore, “I’m a wizard and no, I don’t know your dad.”
Harry deflated, of course he wouldn’t be able to leave this house, even in his dream. He went back to bury his head between his knees, holding himself tight.
“What happened to you hand?” Mr. Not-Angel asked.
Then he remembered why he was shoved into the cupboard this time. He didn’t have enough strength to hold the pan when he was frying the bacon. He dropped it and burnt his hand. It hurt so much at the beginning but it would be automatically healed the next morning. It always did. And he would be called a freak again.
He stayed silent, even if the intruder was merely a stranger, he still didn’t want him to think that he was a freak, like other people did.
Harry began to tremble, just wanted the stranger to go away and so he could sit alone in the darkness again.
“Harry?” the stranger asked. “Are you alright?”
But at least he would call his name properly. His relatives just called him Boy or Freak.
When he didn’t reply, the stranger asked quietly, “Would you like me to heal your hand?”
He looked up, “You would do that for me?”
The blonde frowned at the question, “Of course I would.”
“Who are you?”
“Draco.”
“Why do you know me?”
“Everyone knows you in our world.”
“Your world?” Harry pondered. “What do you mean?”
Draco let out a sigh, “Now, can I heal your hand first?”
Harry felt tears welling up, “Are you angry with me?”
Draco massaged his own left temple, his upper lip twitched a little, “No, I’m not angry, Harry, if you could kindly let me see your injury.”
Relieved but still shivering, Harry tentatively held out his hand, which was red and swollen. Draco winced when he took it, examined it a bit, luckily it wasn’t blistered and the skin wasn’t charred. Draco waved the wooden stick again and uttered, “Episkey.”
His hand was healed within a second!
“It’s like magic!” Harry said in wonder, turning his now perfectly fine hand.
“It is magic,” Draco told him coolly.
“That’s brilliant!” Harry exclaimed, looked up at Draco and smiled. “Draco, you’re so kind. Thank you.”
Draco blushed, looking as if he had swallowed something very bitter or sour. “Er, of course I’m brilliant.” Then he tried to change the topic. “By the way, what did you do before I appeared?”
Harry thought very hard, “I made a wish.”
After hearing the answer, Draco crossed his arm and scoffed, “Of course, Great Harry Potter just made a wish and a miracle just happens. Didn’t even need a…”
“I wished s’one would love me.”
“… wand,” for some reason, Draco blushed even more this time. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Did I do someth’ wrong?” Harry asked in a quiet voice, lowered his head.
Draco shook his head. He asked again, this time in a softer tone, “I mean, why did you need to make such a wish? So many people practically worship you, you have no idea…”
“ ‘cause I’m a freak…” Harry muttered, sobbing quietly. “And I dun deser to be love.”
“Wait…” Draco didn’t know how he should handle a crying child and he suddenly felt a surge of anger boiling inside him. “Who told you this kind of…”
Then Harry curled himself up again, as if he was forbidden to make too much noise when he was crying.
Draco hesitated for a few seconds, then he moved to sit near the little kid. Mimicking what his mum would do when he was little, he threw an arm around Harry and held him close. Harry stiffened but didn’t pull away.
He hadn’t been held in all of his short life. No even once. He didn’t know how he should respond. Chancing a glance up, he saw Draco’s troubled but kind expression. He took out a handkerchief and gently wiped away Harry’s tears and snot.
“Listen, Harry, you aren’t a freak. Though I hate to admit it, you’re a great person and you’re the most powerful and wonderful wizard that I’ve ever met,” he slowly said, embarrassed, struggling to get the words out. “And, don’t ever say that you don’t deserve to be loved. If you ask me whom deserves to live a happy life the most, I want to say it should be me, but the fact is, it should be you.”
“I…” Harry blinked back the tears, didn’t want to make Draco’s handkerchief dirty further. “Am I really loved?”
“Yes, you are.”
“Do you?”
“Pardon?”
“Do you…” It’s a strange question to ask a person whom he had just met an hour ago but Harry couldn’t help but ask. He looked down at his toes, feeling his cheeks heating up. “… love me?”
Draco made a noise which sounded suspiciously like someone being strangled. “E… even Potter didn’t ask me this question this directly!” he spluttered.
Harry really wanted to ask who this “Potter” was but too embarrassed to, so he stayed quiet and went on studying his own toes.
Draco rolled his eyes and admitted defeated, “Fine! Don’t make this face. I do, okay? Satisfied?”
Harry gasped, looking at him with shiny, hopeful eyes. “You love me more than you love Dudley?”
“Who the hell is Dudley?!” Draco spread his hands out, incredulous. “Okay, whatever. I suppose I do,” he added in a bored tone.
Harry didn’t say anything for a while, hands fidgeting with the hem of his overlarge T-shirt.
“What do you want now?” Draco asked, exasperated. “Just spill it. Today I’m feeling generous. Be grateful.”
“Can…” Harry asked, face turned red as a tomato. “Can you hug me again?”
A pause.
When Harry thought he would be rejected, Draco held out his hands, “Come here.”
He hadn’t hugged anyone before and he was nervous. Very slowly, Harry took a deep breath and moved a little closer. Then, a little closer.
“What took you so long?” annoyed, Draco pulled him into light embrace. “Ah, this is tiring.”
Draco was warm and he smelled like fresh herbs. The sound of his heartbeat was so reassuring. He uttered a word which Harry hadn’t heard of, then yawned, “No wonder I’m so sleepy. It’s past midnight already.”
Harry started to feel drowsy too but he managed to ask, “Who’s Potter?”
“You are Potter, silly,” he replied, stroking his tangled hair.
“Is there another Potter?” Harry felt his sense drifting away but he stubbornly needed to know the answer, so he forced himself to stay awake a little longer.
“Ah, that Potter,” Draco said lazily, yawning again.
Harry waited, hoping to hear the answer before he fell asleep entirely.
“That Potter is the future you.”
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TBC