Jay FicLover: thank you! and I apologize for the Long wait. well, this chapter did come a bit faster XD

Kimy: thank you. mystery it shall be ;)

Chapter 4 – Back to the Past

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"I should get something… a job." But where and how? He didn't say.

"Don't know what I get though," he refused to say 'if he got something'. He would just jinx himself. "I didn´t have the chance to finish my education and in the Muggle world I don't even exist." He laughed dryly. "It's probably still easier to get a job there than in the Wizarding world. They either steer clear of anything Malfoy or want to take revenge."

He lapsed into silence and with him the whole room. If he hadn't been used to this – having only himself as dialog partner for years – he would have been aggravated by the lack of actual conversation. Truthfully, it rather seemed like he was talking to himself as Steven had his gaze currently fixed on that flickering thing across the room. It showed moving images like a comic, apparently designed for children.

Draco turned his head towards the window. He couldn't look at the box for long without getting a headache. He knew Annairo felt the same, though he was adapting quickly.

The scenery outside was beautiful. They currently lived in Steven's flat, which was up on the fifth floor of a high building in the outskirts of Birmingham. They had a direct view of the suburban town. The thick layer of soft snow gave the hills a creamy look and the nicely decorated houses stood out, shining with Christmas lights.

It was breath-taking. Then Draco turned away again with nausea and grimaced. He couldn't look out of the window for long either. The height made his vision blur after some time while his stomach flipped unpleasantly, before his heart beat faster and his chest heaved with quickened breathing as a panic attacked threatened to erupt. Funny to think there had been a time he loved nothing more than to be high up the air. Years of not even seeing out of a window had definitely changed that. Still, Draco felt irrationally disappointed in himself for suddenly developing acrophobia. He hated the fact that prison affected him to this extend. Then again, when had he been on higher ground the last time?

At the thought, images flashed through his mind, of a dark night and an old man cowering before him while the wind was pulling at his ridiculously bright robes…

"What about the Malfoy fortune?"

Draco jumped visibly and turned to Steven. The dark man still stared at the screen at the other end of the room. Actually, it was located in the living room, while they sat in the dining area just beside the kitchen, which was only separated by a counter. Hence for Draco it was only one room, however with a funny arrangement. Still, the apartment felt huge against the cage he had lived in for so long.

"Wasn't it confiscated?" he asked.

His eyes followed his fingers as they drew an unknown pattern on the table. He didn't know why, but he had developed the habit to always touch things and draw his hands over their surface to feel every little detail of them. Sometimes he had the distinct feeling he was going a bit bonkers.

Draco chuckled at that. Bonkers – who came up with such words?

Wordlessly, Steven turned his head and regarded him for a second. Unsurprisingly, he said nothing, surprisingly though he smiled as if he understood the world. After a moment's hesitation Draco smiled back, feeling relieved and reassured. He figured Steven understood.

"They wanted to. But it's said a considerable part had been transferred out of the Ministry's influence long before the war ended. It's generally assumed that some of the family's enterprises still run with this money but nothing is sure because nobody has any insight. The Ministry has tried to get his hands on the bank accounts and the properties but the documents to the most valued possessions couldn't be found anywhere", a female voice explained from the kitchen.

During the last sentence she rounded the counter to stand before the kitchen table. Somehow, it was still a shock to see his legal advisor in his former prison mate's flat.

Draco stared at Samantha and let out a long, calm breath. Mother, you're brilliant, he praised silently with a warm feeling. Of course, she had had foreseen Voldemort's fall, had argued with his father about it, in fact. And naturally, she had prepared them for the worst. She was simply and truly brilliant. Almost grinning by then, Draco turned around one thought after the other. Where could she have placed the legal documents? Where would they be safe and whom could she have trusted? At once, Draco found the answer and now his lips did pull into a full blown grin.

Severus!

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It was his first Christmas outside of prison. It was beautiful and exhausting. Annairo jumped around, high with adrenaline, by now over-excited for three days – no end in sight. Draco had feared the turmoil would be too overwhelming for his son. Sure enough, the child had been shocked and partially frightened at seeing so many people and discovering so many things at every turn. He did adjust gradually, though, and his excitement overrode any negative feeling.

Draco, on the other hand, didn't cope so well. Every trip to the city, every venture into a crowd of people, felt like torture. Everything was fast and at every turn somebody would bump into him and he had the impression his every move was watched while he was out in the open, unprotected and vulnerable. Worst of all was the feeling of men following his movements with their eyes. He almost believed himself to be jinxed or maybe he just held a sick attraction for a certain type of men? Of course, it was paranoia speaking out of these thoughts, as he hardly ever really caught a man staring but the feeling was still there and left him uncomfortable and weary, unable to enjoy the trips in his newfound freedom.

Still, Christmas was nice. They had bought a tree and decorated it – Annairo going wild on it and, not knowing what was put on a Christmas tree, he had thrown a grotesque collection of things on it. After a few alterations from the adults the tree did end up half decent. Samantha had invited some of her closest family and a friend and they all celebrated Christmas Eve in a small, quiet meal, afterwards sitting in the living room talking. Even though this Christmas was nothing compared to the ones Draco remembered from his family gatherings, he wasn't able to stay through the whole evening. So when it was bedtime for a certain little boy – who had been the fawned-about star of the evening – Draco decided to join his son and left the celebrations early for bed. However, even though he felt exhausted, which he did a lot lately, he couldn't fall asleep right away.

Beside him he listened to Annairo's calm breathing. They still slept in the same room as there wasn't enough space in the little flat. Draco was glad about it though. He was too used to being with his boy day in, day out to change it all in one go.

He lay on the bed and stared at the roof, sighing. He knew he couldn't stay here forever. He had to start standing on his own two feet. Best would be to find a job, but that was difficult and he didn't really want to wait until then or think about leaving Annairo for times on end. No, he needed his inheritance to insure his independence and future in this world. He knew his mother must have given the legal documents to Snape for safe-keeping as he was the only person she could have trusted. The professor had hardly ever stayed anywhere else than Hogwarts, hence Draco was pretty certain that they must have been hidden somewhere in the Potions master's quarters. The question was, where exactly? And how did he protect them so nobody would find them?

In the darkness of the room Draco shifted and worried his bottom lip. Apart from these two questions, the biggest problem lay in getting to Hogwarts in the first place. He had found out that McGonagall was headmistress and apparently kept watch over her castle like a protective hawk. He didn't know if he should contact her and if, how he could get in touch with her, as they didn't have any owls. Wizards did still send their post per owls, right? Merlin, Draco was confused. He figured he could flew-call McGonagall, but there was still the main obstacle: he didn't dare. He couldn't stand up to her and look her in the eyes, he didn't want to, didn't have the courage. He may not have killed even once in his life, but, nonetheless, it had been his doings that lead to the old headmaster's violent demise. And now he should just go up to McGonagall and demand to be let into the school to search through the chambers of the headmaster's murderer so that he could live uncaringly and happily ever after? No, he just couldn't and wouldn't do that.

Long into the night these thoughts didn't leave Draco until in the end, pure exhaustion claimed him unconscious. It wasn't a restorative sleep. He dreamt chaotic things of bars in front of his cell window, of snow falling onto a body lying completely still and a screeching bird – seemingly on fire – flying over his head towards a long train heading for the north.

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Approximately two weeks after Christmas' Eve Draco arrived at King's Cross Station, Annairo beside him holding his hand.

Merlin, it was bizarre. He thought he would never again walk this way along the station to the magical platform between 9 and 10. He especially would have never thought he would end up here in such circumstances. Trains leaving and arriving in London connecting the magical world stopped only here at certain times. Today, the train arriving had a special and familiar, yet long unseen destination.

Draco closed his eyes and inhaled deeply while he stood in front of the stonewall separating him from platform 9 ¾ but before he was able to regain some calm, a body ramped into his shoulder. He heard a quick 'Sorry' and the person was gone, leaving Draco to scowl after them.

Birmingham and London were bad enough but King's Cross was the worst of all his experiences since coming out of prison. There was a mass of people packed into the place; all running around in a rush like the world was ending if they weren't on time. Draco thought he was going to die with the claustrophobic feeling clinging to his heart whenever there were many people around him. There were only two things keeping him sane. For one, he had to concentrate on the task at hand. He was, so to speak, on a mission: get on the train, get inside Hogwarts and the chambers of his former Potions master and find the documents. And all the while, letting nobody see or track you. Easy cheesy, wasn't it?

The second reason to stay focused was holding onto his hand. His little boy could get lost so easily in this crowd. For Merlin's sake, he could even get kidnapped. Instinctively Draco's hand tightened around Annairo's and the boy stopped his curious observations of the place to look up at his father questioningly. The look, at once, gave Draco the calm that he needed at the moment. He couldn't panic here, couldn't lose his cool. He had to take responsibility after all and watch out for his child. And anyway he'd faced worse before. The outside-world may overwhelm Draco and he had a hard time adjusting, but in the end he was free and finally he could breathe without fearing pain and humiliation on a daily basis with no means to defend himself.

At last, Draco smiled and, swinging Annairo up to hold him close to his body, went straight ahead towards the wall. He concentrated and almost marvelled at the feeling of déjà-vu and the joy blooming in the pit of his stomach. Running against the wall had always brought a strange but exciting sensation. It was an experience of a former, long passed life of his that he could hardly remember anymore, but for the most part it had been a good life, he thought.

Annairo clang harder to him for a moment. There was uneasiness in his feelings but it was outweighed by curiosity. And then they ran into the wall.

Well, it was rather through the wall, as it should be.

The place was even more crowded than outside. It was smaller, too. They stood at the entrance for a moment and regarded the scurrying people in front of them. Draco dimly noted that, considering it was only the end of Christmas break and not the beginning of the school year, there was an enormous amount of people here. The thought made him swallow and break out in a sweat. There must have been a sudden increase in children or something. He was sure there hadn't been so many pupils when he went to Hogwarts.

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"Move, would you. You're standing in the middle of the way!" came an annoyed voice from behind him and without really waiting for a reaction the man shoved past him followed quickly by a third year girl who was smiling apologetically at them.

Draco moved away quickly and further through the crowd to the end of the train. The sheer mass on the platform had the advantage that he could get through unnoticed and unrecognized, though he still wore an oversized cap from Steven for precaution. It generally lessened the feeling of exposure he had when venturing outside. During this particular outing, he had also hoped, it would help disguising him as it hid his blond hair completely and, when lowering his head, also half his face. So far, it seemed to work.

Now, the difficult thing was to get onto the train. The arrangements had not changed the last few years: no person without a ticket could enter the train, not even the parents.

He stood slightly offside worrying his lips and looking about the crowd. He felt uncomfortable and almost suffocated by the mass of people but he had to concentrate on the task at hand. He knew there was a train attendant somewhere around. Only he could make an exception and let someone without a ticket on the train.

Draco remembered the incident at the beginning of his second year, when his mother had scared the conductor to the point of begging until he let her on the train so she could bring Draco some medicaments, he had needed regularly at the time.

Eventually he found a man in the familiar blue uniform at the front of the locomotive and hurried up to him, all the while gripping Annairo's hand firmly, who he had let down to the ground some time before. Fortunately, the crowd thinned out near the head of the locomotive and it was easier to walk.

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"Hello! Excuse me, sir!" he tried to get the man's attention when he was within earshot. He was startled for a moment when he noticed how young this man was, just a few years older than him probably. However, the clothes were unmistakably the train attendant's uniform of the Hogwarts Express, complete with the Hogwarts crest of the four houses at the chest.

"Eh... yes, can I help you?" the young man replied smiling.

Standing in front of the young man Draco felt nervous all of a sudden and increasingly uneasy, though he couldn't exactly fathom why. At last he swallowed thickly and forced himself to smile back nonetheless.

"Yes. I... eh, need to get on the train… because my sister's on it and I have to bring her something really important."

The young conductor frowned a bit and there was already an apologetic look forming on his face. Draco was prepared. He had formulated a relatively plausible story beforehand with the help of Steven and – surprisingly – Samantha for this situation.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not allowed to lift the barriers. You can give me whatever it is and I bring it to your sister or go look for her and send her to come out. Or I'm certain you can always sent it by owl," he explained slightly uncomfortable rebuffing Draco.

"Yes, well you see. She's just in her second year and it's that time of the month," Draco intoned and gave the man a pointed look. He was not disappointed to see understanding dawning on his face, which was followed by an even more perturbed expression.

"She's practically locked herself in a compartment right after arriving on the platform. You see, it's the very first time and she's not happy. Now she forgot… ehm, the things," Draco stretched the last word meaningfully and pleaded the man to understand without explaining, now truly uncomfortable with the topic he was so unashamedly lying about. As if on cue the man turned a light shade of red and nodded his head quickly.

"Yes, yes, I understand. Hum, I guess she needs... that. Eh… hum, I can bring her…" he stammered, clearly not happy about the thought of carrying tampons through the train in search of a little girl.

"Oh, no! She would never forgive me for that. How embarrassing would it be for her? In fact, I'm pretty certain, she'll kill me if she finds out I told you, a complete stranger. She'd be mad", Draco quickly replied with a perfectly fitting sheepish expression.

The young man scratched his head and averted his eyes, a troubled look on his face, though he couldn't keep a smile surfacing when he looked back at Draco's face. For another moment his gaze drifted thoughtfully to the other side of the station where, for the first time, Draco noticed another much older man in the same uniform. Finally, the official sighed defeated though with an endeared smile.

"Well, I suppose it won't be the end of the world if I let you through. But do hurry, we're leaving soon. Hum, the boy's coming with you?"

"Yes, he is. Can't let him standing here alone, can I? Thank you very much," Draco replied with a bright smile, while his hand tightened around Annairo's.

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He hurried away onto the train and right into the mass of students searching for compartments or standing by the window saying their goodbyes to their relatives. The young man had started saying something nervously with a red face and had gotten one of those odd looks Draco couldn't or didn't want to place correctly. Nonetheless, panic had risen abruptly and so he reacted instinctively, almost running away into the train while shouting back a short goodbye as if he couldn't hear the other man anymore.

It was difficult finding his way through the stumbling students. Draco had taken to carrying Annairo again, so as not to lose him between moving legs and suitcases. Several times he bumped into someone or another and was grumbled at by an adolescent, though he didn't pay them any mind. He didn't even know what exactly he was searching for. What he needed was a hiding place – maybe he could lock himself in the toilets? The idea of being trapped – albeit willingly – in such a small, smelly place was less than appealing, however. Worrying his lips in thought he kept going and tried to find an alternative.

It felt like he'd been wading through the sea of children for hours now, when he was startled by a high-pitched squeal coming from the front of the locomotive and signalling the pending departure. He stood still for a moment as if he expected to be tossed out of the train by an invisible force any moment. Nothing happened – except that the students began hustling around the corridors even more than before to, eventually, fully settling themselves into their compartments. Soon, however, the crowd dissipated gradually, for which Draco was immensely grateful.

He went ahead again in a much more moderate pace than before. By now he had to be approaching the back end of the train and he desperately hoped that he would get a chance to sneak in somewhere. There had to be some baggage car at the back or something like that, he was sure. Well, at least he hoped so.

Just as the whistle of the train sounded again he reached the end. Frozen he stared at the wall that apparently lead nowhere. What now? A little fist collided with his chest which made him look down at Annairo. Slowly, he let out the breath he must have been unconsciously holding for so long, that his little bear had to knock it into him again. He looked at the wall again and this time he realised there was a dirty little window and through it, he could see another bogie.

He let Annairo down and began feeling over the door with his hands. For a moment his hands began to shake, in front of his eyes, bars slid close, he felt helpless, caged, defenceless... He pushed the feelings down, blinked the visions away forcefully and concentrated on the task at hand.

He was in luck and found the door handle. When pulled, however, nothing happened. So he pushed it down and the handle did give in. The door, though, wouldn't butch. Draco tried everything he could do but without success. He looked at the opener and suddenly realised his folly, remembered where he was. This was the Hogwarts Express. The door would be enchanted and would only open to the right person.

Realising this, Draco sighed. He didn't even feel angry or frustrated, just a sense of resignation.

Then all of a sudden the handle beneath his hand gave in. For a second, Draco just stared at it and didn't comprehend. The next he understood and panic threatened to steal his breath. He pulled Annairo away and pressed them both into the corner and prayed the door would hide them without the old train attendant noticing the resistance behind it.

He didn't. In fact, the elderly man didn't even open the door fully, it was heavy, after all, and he wasn't the youngest anymore. He just came from the other half of the train full of students that was separated from this by three supplying carriages bringing the special orders from the locals of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts directly from London. As the door would close behind him automatically, he didn't even turn around but simply trudged on to sporadically supervise the children.

Reacting without thinking Draco's hand shot forward and held the door open for him to flee through it.

It looked like a supplying carriage. There were foods, tables, luggage and plenty other knick-knacks. Draco sighed relieved. They could stay here for the remnants of the trip. Examining the room, his gaze zeroed on the space between a high, black cupboard, which was standing pushed up against the wall and a row of sacks full with herbs and ingredients alike. Yes, they could easily hide here; it was perfect.

He settled himself – half crouching, half sitting – within the small space and leaned against the wall tiredly. Annairo had actually fallen asleep in Draco's arm by now and he felt his limps growing heavy too. 'A bit of sleep is definitely in order", Draco thought as he yawned and his eyes fell close.

.-

He awoke long before his father. Looking around curiously he could barely see anything of the environment behind the cupboard. He could, however, see that there was a lot of space and a lot of things around. The boy was up and about within seconds, never waking his dear father. At one end of the room, he could see a door, somehow alike the one he was used to from the cell. Wondering if they would be staying here now and if it would be just like in the cell, though with more space, he went to the door. Before he could even think about touching it, the door slid open, suddenly. He was startled back but laughed when he realised nothing bad happened. This was funny! He walked through the new opening. There was another door that slid open as he stood before it. He laughed again and skipped forwards to the next door.

Eventually, the scenery changed. Instead of finding himself in a cluttered room after stepping through a door, he stood in front of a corridor.

Voices, coming from the side of the corridor, made him halt in his tracks and stop his scouting expedition. When nothing seemed to happen, however, he resumed his mission.

.-

He awoke with a start.

Why? What was it?

Draco looked around disoriented and confused. Then his heart stopped. He jumped up abruptly and searched through the carriage frantically. Annairo! Where was his son? He wasn't there or anywhere between the mess cluttering the floor.

In his mind's eye Draco saw the horrifying image of his little boy falling right off the train on the tracks. He began hyperventilating with the vision for a moment, until he forcefully stopped himself by holding his breath for a moment altogether.

No, he was being irrational. How would Annairo fall off the train? He couldn't even reach the windows let alone open them. The thought calmed Draco slightly – enough to let him feel the mix of excitement and curiosity, coming through the bond from Annairo. In a heavy sigh he let the breath he'd been holding out in a long draw. The next instance, he dashed out of the bogie without another thought except retrieving his son.

.

He had to run through two supplying carriages before he could see and not only feel his boy. All the way he berated himself for being so inattentive to let Annairo get so far away from him and, simultaneously, cursed the doors that apparently weren't picky in letting people through, once they were inside the supplying carriages.

Eventually Draco came upon a lively crowd, mostly consisting of girls. He could tell immediately that Annairo had to be at the centre of it, as he could feel him brimming with excitement. It looked like his little bear had gathered quite the attention, once again.

Draco hesitated to approach them. He didn't want to talk to them, but he couldn't just push through them either. He thought absently, that once before, he would have definitely done so – rudely, probably, at that too.

Another issue added itself to his worries, as he saw a stranger emerging over the sea of heads until he towered over them. Draco guessed, the man was talking to his son as his head was bowed low.

The crowd of girls was starting to dissipate as the man was shooing them away, but Draco only dimly registered that. He instinctively called out to his son, who now was coming into view, worry making his voice much sharper than he had intended it to be.

Annairo had turned, even before Draco had shouted his name, sensing his father's approach and anxiety. He met Draco halfway and threw himself into his arms, looking up confusedly and apologetic at his father.

The look alone made Draco's features soften, and his voice berated Annairo for his running away only in an earnest whisper rather than a harsh rebuke, as he crouched down.

"So that's your boy?" the stranger said suddenly.

Draco lifted his gaze reluctantly to look at the man, who now stood quite close to them. The reduced distance wasn't the only thing he noticed. He froze for a moment in shock, when he saw the man's face for the first time. He recognized him immediately.

It was Potter! Bloody hell! What in the hades was Harry Potter doing here?

Quickly, Draco ducked his head and pulled on his cap, hiding behind it. It seemed to work, Potter didn't recognize him.

"Well, I'm Harry Potter. May I ask, who you are?"

Potter held out his hand. A hand outstretched in offer, rejected friendship… what was it Draco was remembering? It doesn't matter, he thought as he shook the proffered hand.

"And the little man here? He wouldn't talk to me though he's quite the girl's magnet", the man joked with a smile at Annairo. "What brings you here?"

He was probably jealous of the competition, Draco thought unfavourably. He understood now, why nobody had noticed him, when he had been approaching the girls. Nobody ever did when Harry Potter was around, and his attention-commanding aura seemed to have only increased since the last time Draco had seen him.

Feeling grim, Draco wanted nothing more than to snap and sneer at the man but somehow he didn't dare. Was he really afraid of Potter?

Maybe not afraid per se, but maybe he just didn't want to antagonize him like back then. Besides, he shouldn't make him suspicious.

"I'm just travelling to Hogwarts for… I have an appointment there", Draco formulated his reply cautiously, hoping his voice would not give him away. As an afterthought he added: "I'm very… flattered to meet the great Harry Potter. It's really exciting."

Well, and that had been really awkward to say. Draco suspected, it had also sounded really awkward. What could he do about it? He just wasn't all flustered and excited about meeting his old school rival. Quite to the contrary. However, he figured people, who met the saviour of the world for the first time, were expected to show some kind of appreciation. Besides, it gave him the chance to distract the man. Potter was vain enough to be distracted by that. Honestly, he still couldn't believe the man was here. Of all the people and all the places, he had to run right into him.

"Eh… I guess", Potter said hesitantly as Draco straightened up, clutching Annairo's hand tightly as if scared he would vanish again any moment.

"Well, what's your name then? The boy's yours, right? He wouldn't talk to me", he repeated and regarded Annairo fondly and even nudged the boy a bit.

Draco was surprised to see his son returning the gentle look with a bright smile.

"Ehm, yeah, he is. I'm sorry, if he gave you any trouble. Thanks for watching over him", Draco said hurriedly and turned to leave. Better get away now before Potter got suspicious.

"Nonsense. He's been a perfect angel. You shouldn't go either, why don't you come with me to the teacher's compartment. Well, I mean, it's just over there," Potter laughed a bit.

He was gesticulating with his arms in the supposed direction of said compartment and fixed Draco with a hopeful look. For some reason he seemed a little nervous, though Draco couldn't fathom why. He figured though, if Potter was trying to hold him off for interrogation or what not, surely he would do so with more self-confidence than that. That calmed him somewhat, for it meant Potter wasn't suspicious and out to get him caged in again. Apropos, did he say 'teacher'? So that was why Potter was here. He was a teacher then. Draco could picture it, certainly Defence. It was so clichéd.

"Well, hum, I mean. It's a bit lonely in there, as I'm the only teacher here right now, as the other chaperon's on and about somewhere. We're the counsellors and the go to should something happen like-", here Potter scratched his head a bit and smiled awkwardly. "…a boy running around. Had quite some students surprised."

"I imagine", Draco answered flatly, feeling defensive and ashamed at the same time, whishing he'd paid more attention.

"It happens so fast with small children, doesn't it? Anyway, compartment?"

Apparently, Potter was as eloquent as he had been in school. However, Draco had no viable excuse to leave, and more so, he didn't think he would get back inside the supplying carriage. After a short hesitance, he gave in. There was nothing for it. He had to hope that nothing else would happen, and that he wouldn't give his identity away. Oh joy.