Present Mixed in the Past

Chapter 43| Some Advice

The Council groaned in annoyance at the announcement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, scowling. All others had been informed what that meant.

"Barty, you're not joining the school." Phoenix was firm on that.

The dark-haired man raised his hands in surrender as he nodded. After that, the three Heirs began to discuss on how to deal with this. It was annoying, especially if Dumbledore was going to pull something. The Gryffindor heir could only hope that he didn't have to deal with it this time around.

Eventually, they all came to an agreement on what should be kept as part of the games and the safety measures that should be taken. After all, they rather not deal with the paperwork of children dying! The games honestly shouldn't have even been allowed back. Especially for young witches and wizards that were still in school!

"Draco, I would like to speak with you." The newly reformed Dark Lord called to the blond.

Lucius glanced to his son, worry forming on his face for a moment. Just a moment, and then he nodded and left the room. Harry took a moment longer, looking at the Marvolo with distrust. As much as his actions weren't truly his, there was still that ingrained sense of danger with being around him.

"Tout ira bien, mon Phénix." The blond hummed, giving the other a soft smile. (French- I will be fine, my Phoenix.)

Harry hesitated for a moment more before nodding.

"Muy bien, mi cuervo plateado." (Spanish- Alright, my silver Raven.)

The Slytherin Lord raised an eyebrow at the two, an amused smirk on his face. It seemed that he was right to keep the other back. He may not know exactly what the two were talking about, but he could see their expressions and body language quite clearly.

"I see he worries about you." He started slowly when they were finally alone.

The old soul looked over to him and nodded.

"We have seen many things together." He murmured, a tinge of an accent slipping through.

Marvolo noticed that that often happens with the two of them. Both he and Harry have strange accents, soft to the unnoticeable ear and can often times be ignored. It seemed in their old lives, they often spoke in some other language and even now it affected their words. It was charming.

"I can tell." The room was silent for a moment. "You bear an old soul and heart, especially toward the Councilor of Life."

A flush of pink took hold of the pale God's face, his eyes widening ever so slightly. He cleared his throat and turned away from the physically older Wizard, a fist covering his mouth as he straightened his back.

"We can't." He murmured, almost dejected.

"Can't or won't? I may have been your enemy in your first life, as you were his, but haven't you two spent enough time together to warrant a different outcome?"

"Un résultat différent?" He scoffs, glaring to the dark-eyed man. " Who's to say we won't? Now-" (French- A different outcome?)

"You're still young, at least physically. Don't let the old fool take your school years again. Don't you want to tell any children you two may have about the fun and loving times? Times that didn't involve him?"

Draco paused, opening and closing his mouth a few times before keeping it shut. His body, which had moved to stand on its own, sat down once more. He placed his elbows on the table and cradled his head on his joined hands. He looked unsure and almost afraid.

"I know what he likes... I do... But that was with her." His eyes flashed a hard silver, his lips twitching into a snarl.

Ginny had gotten better after the last talk that Harry had with her. She was less pompous, less entitled. She was finally getting friends, they were mostly with Hufflepuffs, but they were at least other people besides Gryffindors. She had also laid off with the flirting and clinging, which was good for her health.

"Then make new memories. Learn the him now, the him that has an old soul just like yours. You're both powerful wizards, aren't you? Change yourselves to look like your adults and roam the city. Have fun while you're young. Maybe get into some harmless trouble."

The blond thought on it, ideas forming in his head before he gave the old Lord a grateful smile. He stood up once again and bowed his head in politeness.

"I will think on it." He hummed, turning his back to the other.

"Don't think too much. It doesn't have to be perfect. Besides, I don't think Potter cares too much about perfections." There was a playful scoff at the end from both men.

"I will keep that in mind." Draco chuckled, his smile growing ever so slightly. "Thank you for the talk."

The door closed softly with a distant ring of children's laughter, laughter of children that had once roamed that Black Manor as they played with each other as old enemies laughed and chatted over tea. Draco wanted that again, and hopefully so did his Life.