#madeperfect

Rose said not to bring too much attention to themselves, she was trying to figure out how to make a True Time Turner. Albus didn’t really see the point, they had already been here for a day! That was more than five hours, they had changed the timeline...and they still hadn’t disappeared. That had to be a good sign. They could do this...they could fix things, maybe speed up the war and make sure that people survived. He and Scorpius couldn’t save one person but now? He had Rose, second smartest witch he knew (next to his Aunt Hermione). 

It wasn’t that bad. The Slytherin robes fit him exactly the same, Professor Dumbledore had been kind enough to sort them the day they arrived instead of with the first years. It was weird, seeing both of his namesakes. He was Albus Severus Potter but had to go by Al Evans for obvious reasons...maybe he couldn’t have taken his grandmother’s last name but it was the first thing that came to mind.

A lot of people said that Albus wasn’t in Ravenclaw for a reason...which was probably true because as he stood there in the Slytherin Common Room, robes on and feeling normal, he forgot that he was in 1996 and not 2022. So when he saw a familiar head of blonde hair, he didn’t really think before rushing over and grabbing the boy’s wrist. 

Quiet is the echo within stone walls. Severus propped up in his chair, book in hand as time ticked on by slowly, and with precision. Never a grain of sand misplaced. Every drop with intent and purpose. Extra emphasis on the tick and tock that resonated within hollow walls. This chamber meant to keep in as much as to keep out.

Detention is best served in pairs and Severus can only roll coffee colored eyes with mild annoyance that he is the partner of the evening. No cutting corners when Mcgonagall bared witness herself to the incident. Too old to be getting into trouble like this. 

Both he and Draco in question. A prince with a crown turned green, none the wiser to his slowly decaying stance among the wizardry population. Severus here to bear witness to it all. His own made of thorns. Funny, in a non comical way, where similarities line up. A brat before him and yet, Draco has his most utter sympathies. 

Lucius be damned. 

He is observant. Like second nature to watch and listen. No stranger to the Malfoy household and name. What it’s like to be under Lucius’ watchful eye, a warning on his lips when Narcissa took interest. Little he could do but to play into old traditions he does not favor. His own status hung heavy over his head. One wrong move and it’s over.

Book shut, he sighed and sat back. Fingers took to pinching the bridge of his nose as he shunned the past. Separate what once was with what’s now as he addressed the Slytherin. 

“Malfoy,” he began, breath heavy on thin lips, “It would be wise to shut your mouth every now and then.”

IT IS WITH WELL MAINTAINED GRACE, and an EVER REGAL facade that he greets the approaching wizard. Announcement of the boy’s arrival had been made apparent to the WOODLAND KING by his own watchful guard, of which LITTLE went undetected by. Though Thranduil had MORE OR LESS anticipated such a visitation. The return of the DARK LORD had not went UNLEARNED by the elven realm. For Thranduil recalls a similar darkness cast in the wake of his rise, and his return to mortal form hardly felt different.

It did, admittedly, leave the elven king UNNERVED. And while his express remains untelling, there is a tenseness that overwhelms his innards.