Marauders Time Travel : you have so many years of screw ups ahead

get to know this ponce

There is no good way to get caught by your should-be-dead father and a couple of his best mates. Still, Harry wishes it hadn't happened during a post-coital fight with his not-boyfriend.

Luckily, it's after curfew. Harry and Draco are, thankfully, fully clothed and on the way back to their dorms. Unluckily, it's after curfew, which means Draco has no trouble being very very loud.

"You're the biggest twat in existence, Potter!"

"Shut your fat gob, Malfoy. Filch could be about," Harry curses and digs around his rucksack for The Marauder's Map.

"Don't dismiss me like I'm one of your simpering fan girls," the blond sneers and tries to shove at his Gryffindor companion. Harry grabs hold of Draco's wrist. He doesn't bother to look up from his bag, which infuriates the blond even more. "I should hex you right now."

Draco must've pulled out his wand then, because someone shouts, "Don't even try it, Slytherin scum!"

Suddenly, someone is pulling Harry back by the arms and Draco has a wand in his face. Harry really hopes the prefect wont hex whatever poor sap has tried to get in between their spat.

Harry can't place the bloke's face from this position. His skin is deep brown and he's sporting Gryffindor robes. There weren't many blokes that fit that description at Hogwarts. Harry was one of maybe four.

Draco was staring wide eyed at his assailant. Oddly, he hasn't raised his wand in defense. The blond's shocked expression only grows when he turns to focus on the boy holding Harry back.

"Cousin Sirius?" Draco breathes in horror. What? Had Draco been confounded? Sirius was long dead. Sure, Harry was prone to 'seeing' the man in the corner of his eyes, but Draco had never given into to such grief-induced delusions.

Tired, confused and weary, Harry turns to look upon the too young and handsome face of his late godfather. Sirius winks at him. Winks!

Harry is about to poke his eye out for making light of this impossible situation when James Potter, his sodding dead father James Potter, turns to face them both and asks, "You know this ponce?"

Sirius tilts his head at Harry, as if he had any idea what was going on here. "You said his name was Malfoy earlier, didn't ya? Must be Cissa's kid with the great peacock. I heard they were engaged. Poor thing." He gives a fake shudder.

Draco looks hurt and angry and confused but still manages to ask, "How are you here and l- l- like that!?"

"Hey! No questions from you!" James grumbles and shoots a hex at Draco, who falls gracelessly to the floor. He smiles at Harry. "Don't worry, future Potter. I'm one of your relatives come from the past! And just in time to save you from this Slytherin slime ball. Isn't that grand?" he smirks and gives a little pose like some muggle superhero.

Someone clears their throat. "Let's not tell that to everyone we run into, yeah?" Harry turns to see a young Remus Lupin. He somehow looks both incredibly nervous and completely done with this mess.

"Oh," Harry breathes. "You're all here."

Remus is eyeing him, suspiciously. The werewolf is most likely putting together why Harry looks too much like James and knows who they are and is alone in the corridors after curfew with a Slytherin who isn't running away even though he's 'outnumbered'.

"Why aren't you more surprised?" James whines. His shoulders deflate comically. Sirius laughs at his best mate's dramatics. The sound is so warm and familiar that even Draco chokes. This is mistake, because James to turn the Slytherin once again. "What are you still doing here?"

"Prongs, I think you should back off," Remus reasons, glancing pointedly between Draco and Harry.

"No way in hell, Rem. This punk obviously wants another round."

This time, Draco does pull out his wand.

"Leave him alone!" Harry snaps.

It would suffice to say that James Potter is more than a little shocked that his would-be-relative is scolding him rather than the Malfoy prat.

Harry pushes between the two and grips Draco's arm, "Are you alright?"

Draco shrugs him off and glares at the time travelers. "You've obviously got a new crisis on your hands, Potter. Don't worry. I'll be out your way," Draco sneers.

"Can't wait," Sirius gripes. Remus pinches him.

"Don't be like this Draco, I need your help."

"No, no. I wouldn't want my teeny tiny brain to get in your way," he mocks.

Harry groans, remembering their fight from earlier. He had, regretfully, declined Draco's help with Dumbledore's task because Hermione had already done the brunt of the research. In Draco's head, this meant Harry believed Hermione was smarter than him. Harry did believe that, of course. Hermione was smarter than everyone. Still, he would never risk his bullocks by voicing the sentiment.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Do I?" he scoffs, gathering his things and avoiding eye contact with Harry. "I can help get you off, sure, but my mouth isn't good for much else, right?" Draco then looks coldly at The Marauders and jabs a finger into Harry's chest. "I'll give you lot some space to get to know this ponce."

He storms away, leaving three very uncomfortable time travelers and one distressed not-boyfriend in an awkward silence.

James is staring at Harry like he has hippogriff ears. Sirius looks utterly amused. Remus clears his throat again.

"It seems we've, erm, misread the situation."