Chapter 2 : One Malfoy Too Many
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Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is property of JK. Rowling. The storyline and OC are mine.
He wanted so badly to throw himself into her arms and tell her how much he’d missed her, yet though his emotions might cause him to waver, he knew he had to be resilient and continue with his original plan: saving his mum and dad.
"Hi, Mu- I mean...er...hello," Hayden quickly corrected himself. He was aware that he couldn’t just change everything right away in this era and moreover that his mother was not yet his mother. She was still a teenager, unaware of what the Fates had on the spindle. He would change that; he was determined to save her from death. He would find his dad as well and make him properly fall for the woman he was meant to be with. How would Cupid do it, by the way? How could he make two people, one who despises and the other who loathes the other, fall in love with one another? Sure, he had to create a plan—or a strategy—while he was in this era. He had to get to know his mum and dad as they were when they were young. He needed much more information.
He suddenly felt the flow of courage and his tongue loosened as when he and his mother were in the garden. For the first time, and after so long, he spoke with her who was not yet his mother, asking shakily, “Are … are you … H – Hermione Jean Mal- … I mean, Granger?” but he recovered his tone towards the end of the sentence. He was still overjoyed that he had found she for whom he had been searching. A smile grew, stretched from ear to ear, and displayed a dimple at his left cheek.
“Have we met?” Hermione replied. A questioning look formed on her face as she stared into his eyes.
“Not yet,” he answered in such a low voice that the two girls had to slightly lean forward to hear him properly.
The redhead beside his teenage mother scanned him up and down, a suspicious look clear in her eyes. He stared at her as he noticed that she was focused on his grey eyes as though she were trying to read his mind. She shifted from his eyes to his light blond hair then down to his chest. His hand clasped instinctively over the spot over which she had been staring; he realised she was examining his Slytherin badge, which caused her to frown both in lips and eyes.
It was a matter of seconds before her wrathful exclamation, “Bloody ferret!” and draw of her wand at a speed that took him aback, though it could also have been her pointing it at his throat that staggered him. He wondered what he had done to cause her to react so menacingly toward him. At the same time as these thoughts crossed his mind, she demurred in a voice reminiscent of a silken garrotte, “Malfoy, d’you think we’re stupid? Just because you’ve curled your bloody hair you think we won’t recognise you?”
Hayden, astounded, wondered: How did she know I’m a Malfoy?
“Hey, put that down. Let’s solve this diplomatically, alright?” he said, raising his hands in the air defensively. He tried to smile but the redhead kept on frowning. He knew what kind of havoc a wand could wreak, despite not having been wholly raised in a wizarding home. He was aware from experience that some spells could be quite harmful: he remembered getting hit by a spell from his father’s wand while playing with it as a small child; he remembered his parents had rushed him to a hospital, which he remembered had a name like Munko’s or Mundo’s Hospital or something…
He was abruptly tugged back to reality when he heard his mum speaking to the other girl. “Ginny, what are you saying? That’s not Malfoy,” Hermione said, caution in every syllable as she scrutinized him as well. She stayed behind Ginny and it somehow stung him to the heart that his mother had the same wariness towards him. “I mean, well, he looks a bit like Malfoy when he’s threatened but … he…”
“No, Hermione. I know for certain that this is Malfoy. Maybe the Polyjuice Potion—or whatever he used—didn’t change his whole appearance … only his bloody hair,” Ginny growled through gritted teeth while her eyes focused in a glower on the Slytherin in front of her. “What was your plan? Were you about to ensnare us with some enticement or merely attack like the viper that you are?”
Just then, the same rude Slytherin from before came walking down the hallway with his two colossal buddies by his side. His typical sneer, which he thought very cynical, though was really most eager, danced across his pale face. He noticed the two Gryffindor girls, apparently cornering another Slytherin and pointed it out to his most inimical friends, “Look at that. It’s Weaslette’s way of catching a boyfriend. Want a turn?”
“Oh, shut up, Malfoy!” Ginny snarled in response to the sneering boy. Did she call him Malfoy? Hayden followed Ginny’s eyes, which were jumping from one pale Slytherin to the other.
“You can put down your wand, Ginny,” Hermione whispered from behind her friend.
As Ginny turned back to Hayden, she looked quite embarrassed. She mumbled something to him that he couldn’t understand because rather than pay any attention to her, spent his focus staring at the other boy. His near mirror was glowering condescendingly at him; he felt his own hands ball into fists involuntarily.
“You … You are … Draco Malfoy?” he asked, staring at the tall Slytherin. He nearly fainted from shock, quite disappointed that his first encounter with his father as a teenager hadn’t been very pleasant.
“You have had a miracle—your sensibility being restored after years—if you don’t know who I am! Or you could be some imbecile who needs to have sense hexed in,” Malfoy said smugly, walking up to the stranger, wand in hand.
"I really don't know how to phrase this politely, but when I see you with your...ah...mute friends, I realise that you have no voice of your own; you're their sock puppet," Hayden retorted, throwing an identical smirk at Malfoy. This was what he had feared. He couldn’t believe what an arrogant lout his father had been when he was young. And he will never change; he’ll probably just lose his handsome appearance, Hayden thought, without wondering why.
“Who gave you permission to speak to me; and in that tone?” Malfoy snarled as he scanned him, but he quickly lost interest when Hayden didn’t reply.
He turned to Hermione, his anger changing somehow. “Hey, Mudblood, did you enjoy waltzing with my flobberworm last night?” he chuckled at his own joke; a sneer dancing automatically across his face.
Hermione just stared at him coldly; her jaw clenched and lips pursed, but before she could defend herself, her red haired friend spoke.
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Ginny warned, drawing her wand a second time. “Or else…”
“Or else what, you filthy little –”
“– Ladies, ladies…” Hayden intervened, as he separated Malfoy and Ginny with his hands. He was amazed at himself for provoking his father like that, but it felt somehow right doing so. “Kindly withdraw your claws; this is no place for a cat fight.” As he said this, he looked from one to the other with his eyes like those of a sharp duenna.
“Are you making fun of me, you git? Defending the helpless Mudblood and impoverished blood traitor from me?” he scowled, his two mates cracking their knuckles beside him. “Thou holy traitor!”
“Why don’t you mess with somebody your own size?” Hayden snapped, throwing the same scowl back. “I don’t know what makes you stupid, but it works.” He felt a bit awkward and disrespectful, fighting his own father; he’d never done it before, as a child. He had always kept silent when his father fought with his mother. But in this era, he was sure he would be taking the wind out of his father’s sails.
Draco chuckled, “And where can I find this fellow?”
Hayden blew his hair out of sight and glared dangerously at Draco; it was as though he was staring in his own reflection. He made a threatening step forward. His fists clenched. His teeth gritted. And Draco slightly shrunk away.
When he was little, he always had to look up at the tall and massive figure of his dad. It felt strange, therefore, that now he could stare at Draco straight in the face and hold his fiery look without giving much effort. Though his heartbeat was pulsating in his ears, deep within he was afraid of his father; though Draco wasn’t his father yet in this era, he was expecting Draco to slap him with the back of his hand across his face like it had happened in his childhood. He had been taught by his parents, especially by his father, to always obey and respect his parents.
But then Draco quickly losing his patience, threw a last warning glare at him and stomped away with his two cronies. Never had he thought that his own dad would consider himself overpowered. As they disappeared around the corner, Hayden turned back to his young mother and her friend; they were staring at him slack-jawed.
“What?” he asked, smiling nervously.
“What. Was. That?” Hermione exclaimed in surprise. “You really didn’t need to protect us.”
“You should be careful, Malfoy is like a pest. By the way, what’s your name? Never seen you before,” Ginny asked curiously. When he looked at the two girls something odd happened with them. It was in their eyes. It happened only in a split second when their eyes seemed to be unfocused, staring right through him. But then it was gone. Yet he thought he had just imagined it.
“I mean, your face is quite familiar, I just can’t remember,” Hermione pointed out thoughtfully as she scrutinized him.
Snapping back from his reverie, he said, “Er, yeah, my name is Hayden Mal ... I mean, uh… Malcolm. Hayden Malcolm.” With this introduction, he courteously reached his hand forward.
“That’s a wonderful and unique name, Hayden,” Hermione commented, causing him to blush.
“I’m Ginny Weasley. Nice to meet you,” the redhead said, blushing as well as she shook his hand. Maybe she still felt embarrassed that she had confused him with Draco.
This is Ginny Weasley, then, Hayden thought. She was so beautiful when she was young, like Mum always described her. It was hard to look at this pretty young witch, knowing how tragic her life would be.
“And that’s Hermione Granger,” Ginny said, interrupting Hayden’s thoughts. “But I suppose you knew that already.”
Hayden reached his hand out to shake Hermione’s.
“Yeah,” Hayden said, his lips twitching to a faint smile.
He couldn’t believe he was holding his mother’s hand; it was so petite and soft. The urge to hold her was so strong that he didn’t even try to fight it; he pulled Hermione close to him. What he had missed doing during the long years since her death, he took in this opportunity. He embraced his mother.
It wasn’t a strained or rude embrace. It was quite gentle and soft. He felt for a moment that he might be dreaming: that she would fade away if he squeezed too tightly, just as she had in all of his dreams since childhood. He was almost afraid to break her. He closed his eyes and trembled slightly, feeling tears prickling the back of his eyes. He was not accustomed to showing emotion, but was somehow overpowered by his grief. In Hermione Granger’s arms, in that moment, he released everything he had held back since the death of his mother nine years ago. He cried.
I won’t let you die, Mum. I promise.
CHAPTER EDITED BY FALLSTAR 04/22/2008
RECHECKED BY CELTICBARD 06/22/2008
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