Unsteady flows the time

[herumtreiber]

Title: Unsteady flows the time
Author:herumtreiber 
Characters: Draco/Harry
Word count:  ~592
Rating: PG
Warnings: Second person POV, present tense, angst with an open ending.
Disclaimer:  JK Rowling owns them, not me. This is for mischief's sake, not profit.
Summary: The desire to change time is universal

You open the door slowly, although you know quite well he's alone. Peering inside the darkened room, you recognise the four-poster bed. He's fast asleep, his fingers gripping tightly the sheets.

He must be having his usual nightmare, you reflect whilst you shake your head and approach the bedside. Tenderly laying your fingers upon his pouty lips, you shake him slightly.

His expression as he wonders just who has woken him up is comical. With a sigh, you admit Smith was right; it is a frightened look that does not become him at all.

"I'm here to warn you about the mistake you're going to make," you whisper softly. "You're not going to scream, are you?"

The scared boy nods slowly, his bright eyes widening as he recognises your features.  

"Good," you mumble as you sit on the bed.

"You're from… the future," he mutters. Strangely, he doesn't appear afraid and with a wry smile you reflect that, indeed, familiarity does breed contempt.

You toy nervously with the silver chain around your neck, a gesture that does not escape his attention. "Reckon the Time-Turner worked well."

After a few seconds, you square your shoulders and utter the message you've come to deliver. "Tomorrow you'll have a choice. Don't take the easy path! Seek him out and ask him to help you!"

"Who?" The bewildered boy asks, and you barely refrain from smacking him upside the head.

Glaring at that fresh face, still unmarred by the rigours of the coming war, you snarl at him, "The person who's constantly in your thoughts, your rival!"

Lifting your hand with a lazy, elegant motion, you point your finger at the whirling sand inside the upended hourglass. "I know the future and all, remember?"

You deliver your next words in a deadly monotone, bereft of your usual passion; after all, it is a speech you've played out in so many different scenarios. "You must make the correct choice or your future will unravel in such a way it might destroy you."

The boy gulps and nods, his hands gripping the wispy curtains of the bed to assure himself he is not dreaming.

You stand up hastily because time, like the sand grains inside the Time-Turner you stole from the Ministry, shifts fluidly.

As you walk to the door, you call softly over your shoulder, "Remember!"

In the corridor, you don the Invisibility Cloak you grabbed along with the hourglass as you prepare to return to the dreary present.

Your eyes follow a flashing movement farther along the corridor as you heft the Time-Turner. It seems other people want to change the outcome of the night upon which the future depends.

The boy inside the room will probably dismiss your words and think it is just a dream; he has done that countless times before. But maybe your warning will stick at last.

You can't help but wonder if your rival, just like you, tries to wrest time to escape his dreadful circumstances. Your mind remembers figments of dreams in the golden days before the world went to pieces, whispered threats in the night and a looming face in the shadows of your dormitory. It was the visage you desired to caress and the body that haunted your dreams, even then.

But the dead past has a momentum all its own and resists change. As the intact castle dissolves all around you, you sigh and wish that the probability clouds you've read about will finally collapse your way, and favour love at last.