The Hateful Fates

15

Draco did not know how he should feel about this. Tom had not really asked either, merely ticked off the boxes for classes that he was in, and Draco had not questioned it because...well really what was he going to say to the future Dark Lord? He was rather surprised when Tom had hit him, but he supposed that was warranted, Draco had been panicking. Perhaps it was a bit much, especially since it happened in front of all the other Slytherins, but Draco did not have the energy to feel upset about it. He was more anxious about his grades, and then realizing that the future Dark Lord slapped him, and then realizing that the same Dark Lord had decided to place him in all their classes. He was beginning to wonder if he should have agreed to that weird blob of floating light, because really this was not all that much better than his own time, if anything he was more anxious and nervous than he had been in his own time!

Enough, He scolded himself, watching as Tom was pacing the floor in front of the armchair he was in. He had no idea what was stressing Tom out, but he knew that there was something. It was obvious enough, though the Prefect tried to hide it. He would not pry, though, it was the Dark Lord's own business and he was definitely not wanting to get into that. It is not nearly as bad here as it was back...back there. I am being horrifically over dramatic. Truly. Here I won't have to worry about an impossible mission, or what the Dark Lord would do when I inevitably failed that mission. I will not have to agonize over whether or not I was making enough progress. Surely, of course, things could be better, and I am almost certain that the Dark Lord had realized that I am his soulmate, but there could be worse things to that...at least he is somewhat sane, unlike the other version of himself. He had much to thank the Fates, he should not be cursing them. Besides, it was too late to take anything back, and he would not even if he could, he was not that stupid.

I am going to be stuck in all the same classes. Draco thought with no small degree of despair. He glanced down at his class schedule. He was in all the same as Tom. The other had stated so himself, and because Draco had not thought to actually think things through, he was stuck taking every single class with the Prefect. Which just made things more difficult. How was he supposed to avoid a Future Dark Lord when he had all the same classes as them? All because he was not strong enough to actually say anything against the other's words. It would have been mortifying, and he would be far more angry with himself if Draco had not witnessed first hand the type of anger the Dark Lord could have. But that is the exact problem isn't it? He thought to himself, thumbing the edge of the parchment. I have no idea what this version of the Dark Lord is truly capable of. I have not had any dealings with him outside of his insanity. Perhaps I know what he is capable of in his darkest moments, but this Dark Lord is not in their darkest moments, which means...which means I have no real idea of what he can do, or will do. The thought was troubling enough without having to agonize over it. He was already caught up in things, though, and he had a feeling that the Fates were just laughing as he stumbled his way through things.

This new...new self, this new, Lord, this new...everything. His transition, his new school year, honestly Draco had very little control on anything so far, and it left him feeling so far left afield that he had no idea where to even begin trying to reign things back in. If this was the life that he had been promised, perhaps it would have been better to simply allow his Father and the Dark Lord to control his in his own timeline. Yet, it was too late for regrets. He was in this situation now, and would not be getting out of it anytime soon. Of course, Draco could not help but wonder what good this was going to do anyone. The Fates had told him that his own timeline was pretty much obliterated...in not so many words, of course, because that would be just too nice, which meant Draco was sort of forced to simply live out his life here as best as he could. Not exactly the most ideal experience, he would admit.

"Draco," the Dark Lord muttered, leaving Draco to straighten almost subconsciously, before inwardly cursing himself. He could not continue to do these things, it was dangerous. "Abraxas has likely sent your scores off to his father by now." Draco felt the breath leave his lungs at that. Why had he not thought of that? Really he should have just burned the damn thing as soon as he could, this was dangerous. That his great grandfather was asking his grandfather any questions was dangerous enough. At least Orion's family had not picked anything up yet. Though Draco would not count on it being too long before they noticed. "In which case they shall be returning soon."

"I suppose, my lord," Draco spoke, his own words even quieter than the Dark Lord's own.

"I want you to meet some of my...Well I suppose you could call them friends." Draco bit his lower lip, trying to keep his own thoughts to himself. However, he had not really expected to get involved with the Death Eaters so soon. This was going to...undoubtedly, complicate a lot of things.

"When Abraxas, Orion, and Walburga return?" Draco questioned, his words light but barely even heard from how quiet he was being. He could feel his fingertips trembling.

"Oh, no, not quite that soon. After dinner, will do well enough. Your class schedule begins tomorrow, after all, and we have the rest of the day to worry things over about what we should do regarding books and such." Draco had not even begun to think of that, and he had no idea what books were even required for these classes. He had to admit, they were close enough to his projected schedule that he had planned for himself fifth year, but that was before the Dark Lord returned and gave him an impossible mission. He had not even had the time to get his own course load yet.

"Right," He sighed. "I had not thought of that."

"Well, you are lucky enough that I have. We will speak with Abraxas about the situation." Draco curled his body into the couch. He did not want to speak to Abraxas, though if the Dark Lord wanted to do it he would just do it anyways. There was no way around that.