Chapter 5: 3-1

"Maria..." A pathetic voice called out my name, sounding utterly helpless.

Yeah, I get what you’re trying to say. This is all Hagrid’s fault.

"I wonder where Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is..."

Honestly, they should at least provide a manual on how to get to the platform for those coming from Muggle backgrounds.

It was September 1st. Uncle Vernon’s car arrived at King’s Cross Station, carrying me—impatient to return to my beloved alma mater—and Harry, whose heart was racing with expectations of the unknown. Uncle Vernon, who was nothing but reluctant and surly, naturally sped off the moment he dropped us at the station. Left behind, we Potter siblings—with our pile of rather... extremely... significantly... odd luggage—stood out like sore thumbs amidst the swarming Muggle crowds.

"It’s okay, Harry. We’ll figure it out."

"But there’s only ten minutes left. Uncle Vernon’s gone, and the only money we have is wizard money. Do you think we can use this for a hotel?"

"...I doubt it, unless we exchange it for pounds."

"I see... We’ll have to sleep outside then. If Uncle Vernon doesn't come back for us, we’ll officially become homeless at the station. Oh, don't worry, Hedwig. If it comes to that, I’ll set you free so you can find your own food."

Hoo. Hedwig—the most prominent of our strange school supplies—hooted in a tone that sounded somewhat exasperated.

As I watched Harry weakly playing with Hedwig from the corner of my eye, I was busy scouring my own memories.

Last time, if I recall correctly, yes—I was helped by my mother-in-law, Molly... no, I mean, Molly Weasley. I wonder what time that was? I remember it being quite down to the wire. Have the Weasleys already gone through to the other side?

I glanced at the clock on the information board. Five minutes. Once there were only five minutes left, I’d just take Harry through myself. It would raise questions about how a "normal girl" like Maria knew the way to the wizarding world, but honestly, what did it matter now? It’s not like I’m dealing with Hermione, who is hypersensitive to lies, hidden agendas, and secrets (traits she mostly applied to Ron and workplace corruption). This Harry would probably just blink in confusion if I did something mysterious and not give it much thought. ...I’m a little worried about my brother’s innocence.

Or maybe I should let Hedwig fly? As smart as she is, she could lead Harry—no, the people around us would panic first.

Sigh... Regardless, we can't be late. I gave a casual pat to my carefree brother, who had already given up on the Hogwarts Express and was busy tickling Hedwig with a stray feather. In moments like this, you’re just like Albus. Genetics, I suppose...

"HARRY!!"

My prayers were answered. Our savior this time was not a redhead, but a platinum blond.

"What do you think you’re doing? You haven't even loaded your luggage! Have you secured a compartment? What were you doing on the Muggle side of the platform? If you’ve forgotten something, just give up on it already."

"We just didn't know how to get to the non-Muggle side, Draco."

"Hah? What are you babbling about? As if you wouldn't kno—ah... right. I see."

Taking in the sight of Harry, who was so resigned he was currently engaged in a game of tug-of-war over a feather with Hedwig, Draco deduced everything and spat out a bitter remark.

"There’s a limit to how careless one can be, Rubeus Hagrid."

I couldn't agree more.

"Draco, you—where did you just come from?"

Harry’s mouth hung open. He stared at his friend in wide-eyed wonder, as if he had just witnessed actual magic. Meanwhile, Harry had lost his focus, and the feather tug-of-war ended in Hedwig’s victory; our adorable owl puffed out her chest in satisfaction. How cute. I felt immensely heartened.

"Explanations later. Just follow me and don't think. Listen, don't be afraid. Maria, put Harry between us. We're out of time."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

We had a lot of luggage for school, but our actual personal belongings were few. I managed to shift my things onto Harry's cart and then walked forward, putting my arm around Harry’s shoulder—straight toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"Eh—? Wait—!?"

"Harry, you can close your eyes if you're scared."

"Maria? Draco? This—wait, we're going to crash!"

""We won't!""

With Draco in the lead, we pushed Harry’s back with all our might and ran. Suddenly—a rush of air filled my lungs, smelling entirely different from the heavy, concrete scent of the Muggle station.

"Look, Harry. Open your eyes."

I gently stroked the back of Harry, who still had his green eyes squeezed shut. The boy’s eyelashes fluttered softly.

"—Whoa...!"

In an instant, Harry’s eyes were brimming with boundless curiosity and expectation.

As far as I knew, this was probably his first time seeing a steam engine in person. I had to play the strict sister and hold him back as he instinctively tried to wander off.

"Come on, no time for staring. Do that once we’re inside. Let’s find an empty compartment."

"What about yours?"

"I have two 'dim-wits' who take up the space of four people."

"Ah..."

Crabbe the Dim and Goyle the Witless, I assume. As long as Draco is a Malfoy, those aren't ties he can easily sever. Which means... Lucius Malfoy is still with that camp...

"The back should be empty. We have less than five minutes. I’ll push the cart, you two go ahead and look."

""Okay!""

Following Draco’s instructions, I took Harry’s hand and ran. We slipped past compartments filled with children already making themselves at home (some little ones, likely first-years, stared at us in surprise) until we reached the very end. We finally found an empty seat, and I opened the window to call out loudly to Draco on the platform.

"Harry, stay here. I’ll go get the luggage from him. Draco needs to get back to his own section soon, too."

"Then I’ll—"

"It’s fine. Once the luggage is on the train, we won't be left behind. If you don't stay here, I might forget which seat we took. Just... wait here for me."

"...Okay, I understand."

"Good boy," I said, patting his head before running off again.

After all, I had far too much to discuss with Draco. And those were things that could not be said in front of "people of this world." I felt bad for leaving Harry alone, but this was the first real chance for a private conversation.

"—Draco!"

"You’re slow, Maria."

Draco had already finished moving most of the luggage into the corridor. He was leaning against the wall, his pale skin flushed a healthy red, with his tie loosened and his collar button undone.

Wow. How many years has it been since I saw that "Diamond-Tier Pride" guy looking so relaxed? At least eleven years.

"Didn't you used to be much paler? I used to think you looked like a vampire."

"As rude as ever, I see."

I chuckled and handed a handkerchief to the scowling Draco.

"Good job. You could have just left it for me."

"No matter who you are on the inside, you are a lady on the outside. Do you really think I would allow a beautiful woman to act as a porter?"

"Ugh, wow. The Malfoy upbringing is as perfect as ever. Like a barrel full of... well, you know."

"Do something about that foul mouth of yours, even just by an inch. How many boys' fantasies do you plan to shatter once we get to Hogwarts? That beauty you inherited from your mother is going to waste. And especially—stay restrained in front of Professor Snape. Do you hear me? Absolutely."

Draco nagged me while unceremoniously pinching my cheek; in retaliation, I poked his pale forehead. Even if you’ve stopped slicking your hair back, I still remember how easy a target that forehead is.

"I know, I know. Ara, for a Malfoy, you're being quite complimentary. Don't tell me this face is your type? Please don't go falling for your friend's mother."

I gave him a deliberate, wicked grin. Draco looked like he was three seconds away from a burst blood vessel and clicked his tongue.

"...That face looks exactly like your son's."

"And that son looked exactly like my father."

Harry Potter had two sons, but I didn't bother asking which one he meant. When people spoke of "my son," they usually meant the older one—the bratty troublemaker. In reality, including that incident, the one who pulled off the truly big stunts was usually the shy younger son, but the older one’s reputation for mischief was so well-established that it often went overlooked. ...Perhaps that’s another reason why Harry and Albus feel so similar.

"—The whistle. We’re about to leave."

While heading back to Harry’s seat, we ducked into an empty compartment where someone had left their luggage. I leaned out the window. "Hey, it's dangerous," Draco muttered, putting an arm around my waist to steady me, and I leaned my weight into him without hesitation.

There she was.

Away from her mother, a small shadow was chasing the moving train. Her face was a mix of tears and smiles as she waved frantically to her brothers.

"Ginny..."

I whispered her name, surprised by how weak my own voice sounded.

Ah. So she was already interested in Harry even back then? That thought was... both happy and painful.

I kept watching, burning her image into my memory as she grew distant. When the flash of red hair finally vanished, I let the strength drain from my body.

"Satisfied?"

"Yeah. Your Astoria starts school the year after next, right? Two more years of waiting for you. Poor thing."

"Hmph. I’ll likely be so busy being dragged around by you that I won't have time to pining anyway."

"Fair point."

Unconsciously, his arm remained around me, so I used him as a backrest to catch my breath. Consider it a penalty for holding a lady’s waist without permission.

"Come to think of it, we’re lucky. We get to see our wives’ cute younger selves in person again, not just in photos. I’m not sure I can trust myself not to constantly dote on Ginny. And you didn't have much to do with Astoria during your school years, did you? This is your chance to reclaim your bittersweet youth with her."

"Keep dreaming."

Draco shrugged theatrically at my banter, but in truth, I couldn't quite see the depths of what was swirling in his heart. Because his wife had a serious problem—a curse. Would he... face that again in this world?

"So? Was your plan to leave Harry alone and kill time here?"

"Caught me, did you?"

"You very obviously avoided that redhead boy who was heading for the back. You know, there’s no harm in you becoming friends with him, too."

I thought of the freckled boy I had passed on the way to Draco. Dear old Ron. And Hermione. The partners who would become lifelong friends. Harry’s partners.

"Eventually. For now, I just want them to become friends with Harry. It’s a selfish wish, but I want them to be 'Harry's' best friends. Because in our friendship, the person known as 'Maria' never existed."

"...You really are selfish. I suppose this Harry is the same. No wonder Professor Snape calls you arrogant."

"He and I are the same person. Though I think I’m much more arrogant and greedy than he is."

When I bluffed like that, a pale hand reached out and messied my hair. ...Doing that doesn't hurt me anymore, because I don't have that classic Potter bird’s-nest hair. Maria’s hair is only slightly wavy compared to Harry’s. It must be from our mother’s side. Truly a blessing.

As our childish bickering began to shift into something more somber, Draco asked quietly:

"Speaking of greed... are you going to change the future?"

He kept his gaze averted, but he couldn't hide his tension. I, too, turned my eyes toward the passing scenery outside the window. I knew this was the topic he had truly wanted to discuss since we met—and I had come here to talk to him about it, too.

"The very fact that 'we' are here means history is already different from what we knew. So, first, I’ll nudge things toward the history that should be. And then... this time, I will seize it. Even if it’s only one. The future of a person who deserves to be protected."

We can't do anything about what has already passed, and we likely can't stop every tragedy from happening. There are reasons why we must let certain things occur. Only Draco and I know that. In the end, there are few things we can save. We might stir up the whole world and gain nothing. There might be no reward.

Still... I can't just know and watch them die. My parents’ sacrifice was more than enough. Being the "Hero" Harry Potter was always about being forced to do the impossible. In that case, what’s the harm in choosing to do the impossible for once?

"...As I thought. You are greedy and arrogant."

Draco laughed openly, as if he had known all along.

"And? Do you honestly plan to do it all alone?"

"Eh?"

"There is another person right here who shares those memories of a certain future. It’s about time you developed the greed to drag others into your mess, Potter."

"..."

I stared at him, my eyes wide. He had an expression that suggested this was the most natural thing in the world. An expression that said he had already decided to help me.

"It’s dangerous."

"I imagine so."

"No one can find out."

"Outsmarting Dumbledore will be a pain."

"I can't guarantee your life."

"There’s no guarantee of life as long as you’re breathing."

"It’s an act of defiance against Him."

"...I’ve defied him plenty already."

"I don't know if I can protect you."

"I have no intention of degrading myself into someone who needs your protection."

"Draco."

"Harry."

"Are you serious?"

"I am."

A breath escaped my lips. The scenery before me blurred and crumbled into watery edges. The outlines of his face smeared. The boundary between me and the world dissolved.

But even in that blur, the pale gold and bluish-grey were firmly there, and it was... agonizingly, overwhelmingly... beautiful.

"You’re a bigger idiot than I thought."

"Only for my wife, my son, and—as a bonus—you, Harry."

Liar. You’re actually quite affectionate. Anyone who becomes your friend knows that.

"You're too good at taking care of people. Come to think of it, you never once abandoned those dim-wits Crabbe and Goyle. Is being soft on your inner circle a Malfoy tradition or something?"

"Being cold-blooded to everyone outside that circle is also a tradition. By the way, you just practically declared yourself part of my inner circle. Are you sure about that?"

Draco’s face, already mischievous, was now full of mockery. I blinked hard. Splash. A teardrop fell.

Because...

"But it's the truth, isn't it?"

"............This is why you're an Arrogant Potter."

The smug smirk on that sophisticated boy’s face shifted into something a little more bashful. Oh, how cute.