Second Chances (Drarry)
  • Reads 2,320
  • Votes 134
  • Parts 22
  • Time 22h 35m
  • Reads 2,320
  • Votes 134
  • Parts 22
  • Time 22h 35m
Ongoing, First published May 21, 2024
A muggle therapist.

It was ironic. Scratch that, it was absolutely ridiculous.
Draco Lucius Malfoy, sitting in a clean sunlit room, listening to a bunch of Muggles telling him their ridiculous problems. Him, Draco Malfoy, giving THEM advise on how to manage their lives, while his own had fallen apart during a war they weren't even aware had happened. He advised them to talk to someone, to HIM, when he himself refused to do the same. He advised them to face their fears, when he kept avoiding his own.

It was a punishment, of sorts. The kind he had chosen for himself. It was only appropriate, considering all the things he had done. Or rather the things he hadn't done. It was a punishment and a redemption in one. It was an odd sort of balance he had created for himself, as he tried desperately to atone his sins. (...)

And then, Draco one day wakes up years in the past, the worst years of his life left in front of him and Draco breaks.

Warning: This is a long fic and contains graphic depictions of violence, discusses traumatic events and its repercussions, as well as mayor character deaths. Also timeline shenanigans
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Draco has woken up in an alternate universe. Or he has woken up utterly insane. Nothing else can possibly explain why Harry Potter suddenly seems to think he's Draco's boyfriend. *** "Potter leaned in, his face so close Draco could feel the warmth of his skin. "There's nothing you can't tell me," he whispered, his expression soft, his voice intimate, wrapping around Draco like a warm, alluring spell, urging him to give in, to let Potter pull him close so that he could bask in the protection he offered. For a wild, wonderful second it seemed like Draco could really just tell him. Tell him something was wrong, and it wasn't Draco's fault, and maybe Potter would believe him, promise him it was okay, and they'd sort it out without murders or Azkaban. "It's okay," Potter said as though he had read Draco's mind. As though something compelled him to say whatever Draco wanted him to say. "Just tell me, and we'll deal with it." This was too cruel. It wasn't just a random kiss in a cupboard that only served to remind Draco of what he could never have. This was really much worse. This was Potter behaving in a way that Draco rarely dared even to imagine. He'd only resort to it when his need was dire. When his nightmares were too vivid, and the images refused to vanish even after Draco woke up and opened his eyes. In those moments, his mind trusted only Potter. He was the only one who could convince Draco that it was all right, that he was safe now, that the Dark Lord wasn't coming back. Only Potter could save him from nightmares the way he had saved him from flames. Their foreheads were touching. Potter's skin was warm, the scent of his shampoo too delicious for Draco not to breathe it in. Whichever spell Potter was under, it was definitely contagious. Or Draco really was having a nervous breakdown."
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Oh, Shit

38 parts Ongoing Mature

Draco panicked. He did not know where he was, only that he was nowhere close to home. Just one night he goes to sleep uneasily in the Malfoy Manor dreading the next day as he was scheduled to take the Dark Mark, the next he wakes up sopping wet in a small frontal garden in a time that, seeing the horridly outdated architecture, is not his, and unable to say anything when asked where is parents are except 'gone'. He doesn't know how he got to some older time and he doesn't really want to know. Maybe it is Fate fucking with him again. Would be typical. Last thing he knew his Father was at the Ministry and his Mother was locked in her room, both likely to die when Father came back...so who knew? It is the 1940s, as he soon learns, and dread creeps in. Stuck going to Hogwarts for his sixth year, with nothing more than his name and trying to fend off the curious looks and stares as a Malfoy seems to pop up out of nowhere, Draco does not know what he is going to do. Luckily he has Tom by his side...sort of...He just doesn't know what to make of him.