Potter vs. Malfoy: War's End

By Jedi Tess and Lee Velviet

Summary: Draco, Ginny, Harry, female!Blaise, a rip in time, and a bizarre collision with their own children brew a reluctant friendship between the forever-feuding Malfoys and Potters (well, two of them, anyway) and two unlikely sidekicks.

Pairings: Draco/Ginny (um, DUH!), Harry/ female!Blaise (when originally writing this, no one knew Blaise's gender for sure – I know he's male), hints of Ron/Hermoine.

NEW A/N: Heya! This is a new! author's note with a bit of an FYI for you all. Lee Velviet is (sob) no longer co-authoring this story (some of you seemed unclear about this, so here I am, clearing it up!). Let's all take a moment and mourn . . . Sigh Anyway, I, J.T., am ALL BY MY-SEEEEEELF! Actually, that's a lie – I have a fantastic new quasi-beta, XX, who is officially being promoted to full beta right now because she's gone above and beyond the call of beta-ing duty many, many time (bless her). Good on you, XX! Moving on. This chapter has been heavily edited in several ways, as will all chappies of this fic. Massive grammatical/spelling/punctuation corrections, as well as plot hole filling and a bit of content, are being enacted as I write! I think it's worth rereading because the improvements are vast!

Anyway, enjoy and kudos!



"Come off it, Potter. Do I look stupid enough to believe that rubbish?" Hayden Malfoy glared down at the seventh year in front of him.

Tristan Potter made a dramatic show of pushing her round-framed spectacles onto her head and squinting her bright green eyes at him.

Hayden ground his teeth as several of the Slytherin girls standing around behind her sniggered into their hands. After a moment, Tristy lowered her glasses back onto her small nose and ran a hand through her long, untidy black hair. "You want me answer that?" she asked at last, quirking a dark eyebrow at him.

Hayden's upper lip curl. Tristy had always known just what to say to get under his skin – even when they were little kids it had been an unconscious knack of hers. It was no wonder that he'd eventually learnt to loathe her. His hands fist at his sides as he fought the urge to wrap them around her scrawny neck.

She sneered at him, egging him on. "Oh, Malfoy, kneazle got your tongue? Seems your only passable weapon since we all know you can't use your wand worth a damn." Her friends gasped, as though they didn't hear her tear into people daily.

"Too bad you'll never know, Potter," he threw back, smirking and running his tongue gently across his teeth his teeth. Dorian had once done a careful study and discovered this particular move could paraylze girls at a distance of twenty paces. Sure enough, every one of Tristy's friends went a bit cross-eyed. Tristan didn't look a bit impressed - in fact, she was the only girl at Hogwarts who would willingly rip his tongue out, rather than open her mouth.

She rolled her eyes, grabbed a fistful of his robes, and frog-marched him out of earshot of her leering housemates.

"That's right, Tris, there's a broom cupboard at the other end of the hall. We've still got ten minutes before double Potions," Amber Higgs called after them. The other girls tittered.

"Tristy likes 'em best when they put up a bit of a fight, Malfoy," Hilary Baddock added with a suggestive hitch of her penciled-on eyebrow.

Hayden saw Tristy's jaw tense. Other than that she gave no sign that she heard or cared what her housemates were saying. Leaning toward him so that she was speaking into his ear, she whispered, "Meet me outside Snape's classroom before Potions, Malfoy. It's really important and - look, just be there, right?" She turned away and stalked away with her entourage of friends.

Hayden could only gaze after her suspiciously as she disappeared, her long black hair drifting in a soft cloud behind her. What was she playing at?

A large, heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder, but he continued to watch after Tristy, his frown deepening.

"I hate to say it - again and again – but you've got it so bad for that girl," a deep voice said from behind him.

Hayden's violent expression relaxed into one of mild annoyance. "Are you mad? I can't bloody stand her." His lip curled at the idea.

Dorian Weasley stepped around in front of him and grinned down from his superior height. He crossed his arms and flexed his arms, raising his eyebrows. Hayden narrowed his eyes as he was forced to tilt his head back slightly to look up at Dorian. In their sixth year, they'd both been lanky and the same height. Somehow, during the summer before their seventh year, Dorian had shot up a full eight centimeters and, with little or no effort, developed several additional pounds of lean, solid muscle.

"Come on, mate," Dorian wheedled. "You know you want to shag her – I still say you take advantage of the summer hols and make the beast with two backs next time you're at Uncle Harry's manor." Dorian grinned even wider, his blue eyes twinkling, deep dimples appearing in his freckled cheeks. "Reckon you just need to relieve the tension."

Hayden's eyebrows drew together in disgust. "No chance. Girl's a bleeding nuisance. That ratty hair – does she ever brush it? Looks like a bloody sheep. And those specs make her look like an absolute prat!"

But Dorian was only shaking his head, red fringe falling into his dancing eyes. "Give over. Can't you see the two of you together? That'd be a lark – a Slytherin and a Gryffindor hooking up. Don't reckon it's happened since your parents got together."

"Yeah, and clearly, house rivalry hasn't exactly been affected by the 'power of love', has it?"

Dorian grinned again. "Real shame, too. Amber Higgs, mate. What an eyeful!"

"Amber Higgs? You're disgusting, you know that?" Hayden said, still mildly annoyed. Dorian was his best mate, but sometimes his libido was too much, even for Hayden. Amber Higgs – honestly! "Anyway, I thought we were discussing Potter."

"Right – sorry to tear you away from your favorite subject," his friend chortled. Ignoring Hayden's deepening scowl, he went on. "Like I was saying, Tristy's got every bloke in this school drooling in his pudding, even with those specs and the mad scientist hair. She's definitely shaggable. Hell, I even broke down and gave her my best shot over Christmas when she and Uncle Harry came to the Hollow." His eyes glazed over, even as his best friend's eyes widened in horror. "Caught her on the stairs and snogged her like crazy. You know she actually blushed? I bet you anything she's still a virgin."

"Yeah - pure as driven snow," Hayden muttered, feeling a little ill. "Especially with all those pro Quidditch players around the manor when her daddy's not home. Go on, mate – you've seen the leather she swans round in."

Dorian wasn't listening. His eyes were still far away, and he was looking rather rueful. "Never in my life have I had a girl tell me my kiss felt 'brotherly.'"

Hayden made a sound of revulsion. "Well, you'veknown her practically since birth, you ill-mannered clod. What did you think she was going to say? We're all practically siblings! You can't just walk up and plant one on her. Even the likes of Tristan Potter take exception to that."

"Why?" Dorian said, shrugging. "If I were her, I'd be thrilled to be snogged by me."

They glanced at each other. Hayden's lip twitched and Dorian laughed. "I think you've been spending too much time with Uncle Harry's godfather," Hayden said.

"Hey, Sirius knows what he's about!"

"How many women stay with Uncle Sirius for more than a month, then?"

Dorian looked confused. "Since when do we want 'em to stay?"

Hayden shook his head again and flicked imaginary dust off his gleaming prefect's badge pinned above the Gryffindor patch on his expensive black robes. "Come on – we're going to be late for double Potions."

"Perish the thought," Dorian mumbled as he reluctantly fell into step beside his friend.


Hayden waved Dorian when they reached the Potions classroom in the dungeons. Tristan was already waiting outside the door, foot tapping and arms crossed in an attitude that suggested he was the worst sort of time-waster. Dorian grinned at her as he passed her on his way in to class. Tristan gave him a small smile in return, rolling her eyes when he made loud kissing noises at her.

Schooling his features into a cool, careless expression, Hayden joined Tristan by the door, noticing the lines of strain in her pale features. When he'd received her owl yesterday, he'd assumed she'd been exaggerating. He watched her catch one of her full lips between her teeth. Her wide, troubled green eyes were fixed on the opposite wall, not noticing the other students streaming passed them into Snape's class.

Dorian was right about one thing. Tristan was shag-able in the extreme.

Hayden bit the inside of his cheek to clear his head. The last of the other students disappeared into class and Hayden turned to face his godsister.

"What's so sodding important, Potter?"


Unable to stand the suspense, and Snape being handily tardy to class that day, Dorian rose from his seat and crept to the door. He cracked it open and peered out into the hallway.

To his disappointment, but not surprise, they were doing what they did best: arguing.

As usual.

Dorian scowled at their stubborn, mutual refusal to get with the baby-making already. He didn't know why they wouldn't just get a move on. Well, he did, but it was so petty, so stupid that he really couldn't stand it.

"Dad? Hey, Dad's home!"

Hayden and Dorian had been jumping on Hayden's new bed, while Tristy sprawled across the floor with her new training broom and an "I Can Read" book entitled, The Young Quidditch Star: A Guide to Not Doing Anything a Stupid Little Kid Might Normally Do. Uncle Harry was reluctant to get it, but Tristy's nose had been buried in it since they'd left Quality Quidditch Supplies and Dorian assumed this meant that she could read it.

However, at Hayden's exclamation, she jumped to her feet.

"Uncle Draco!" She beamed and clapped her little hands, her green eyes bright and eager behind the specs dropping off her nose.

"Don't do that." Hayden rolled his eyes, jumped into the air, and landed on the floor beside her. "That's my dad, Tris!"

"So? He's my godfather and I think he's perfect!" she retorted, closing her book with care and setting it on the nightstand.

"Can we go?" Dorian demanded, frowning impatiently at them. Tristy and Hayden grinned sheepishly at him, and each of the boys grabbed one of Tristy's hands. Tristy always wanted to be in the middle and Dorian's cousin Andy had once said boys didn't hold hands so Tristy in the middle was fine by him.

They dashed down the long corridors of Red's Park, down a winding staircase, and into the entrance hall, where Draco was just kissing his wife hello.

"Disgusting! Make it stop!" Hayden wailed, burying his face in Dorian's sleeve. Tristy beamed and dropped Hayden and Dorian's hands.

"Hi, Uncle Draco," she said happily, dashing over and flinging her short arms around his middle (Aunt Ginny only just moving away in time to avoid being sandwiched).

"Sweetheart," he returned simply, lifting the tiny girl into his arms.

"Hey, no fair!" Hayden cried, hurrying over and giving Tristy's dangling foot a solid yank. "He's my dad!"

"Steady on, mate," his father chided mildly, setting Tristy back down and lifting a pale brow at his indignant heir.

Tristy's big eyes were filling with tears behind her glasses.

"That was mean," she sniffled, glaring angrily at him.

"It was mean to try and steal my dad," Hayden retorted. Dorian remembered thinking, even at the time, how horribly silly the whole argument was.

"I wasn't trying to steal him!" Tristy wailed, stomping her foot. All at once, she flung herself at Hayden, arms around his neck. "I'm sorry, Den. Didn't mean to do anything wrong."

Hayden returned the hug readily, patting her on the head.

" 's okay," he said stoutly, his expression sober. "I forgive you." He considered. "And since you've only got one parent and I have two, I guess I'd better share." He beamed, throwing his arm wide as if conferring a huge favor. "You can hug my dad again, if you want." Dorian noticed Aunt Gin rolling her eyes.

It always amused Dorian that Hayden would forgive Tristy anything under the sun if she asked him to.

Though a small smile played over his lips at the memory, Dorian felt a familiar frustration at his friends. Hayden's stubborn insistence that nothing was ever his fault as indulged by Tristan's always being the one to apologize was what had led to the last straw. Once, Dorian had had two best friends who he did everything with. Now ...

When it came time for the three of them to begin at Hogwarts, no one had been able to separate them. They'd anticipated going since Cedric had started. He sent long letters home to Tristan about how much fun he was having. They did all their shopping and planning together. Uncle Harry joked that they'd better just spend the summer together, lest they use up all the parchment in England.

It was at Uncle Harry's mansion that they had vowed to be in Gryffindor together.

"We have to swear," Hayden said, glaring threateningly at the other two.

"But it's not our choice, Den," Tristy pointed out. "Suppose that the Sorting Hat put you in Slytherin, 'cause your dad was there?"

"What if it put you there?" Hayden retorted heatedly. "Your mum was –" Dorian kicked him very hard in the shin to keep him from blundering on about Tristy's mother and making her upset. Hayden looked sheepish, then finished lamely with, "Well, you're just as likely to end up there as I am."

"I suppose," she admitted, probably to avoid an argument. "Fine, let's promise."

They shook on it and had all felt better for sealing their own fates.

All through the train ride they had discussed Quidditch, houses, and Uncle Draco's friend Professor Snape (whom Tristy said her father often called a "slimy git").

Dorian remembered how nervous they'd been when they'd first seen the Great Hall and how Tristy nearly fainted at the sight of the Sorting Hat. Hayden was called up for sorting first.

"Malfoy, Hayden," Professor McGonagall read from her parchment. Dorian patted him reassuringly on the back and Tristy hugged his arm.

"Go get 'em, Den," she whispered.

And he had, though it had been a near miss. He sat up there a whole minute before the hat finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

When McGonagall called, "Potter, Tristan," Tristy's entire form frozen up.

"Go, Tris!" Dorian actually had to shove her toward the stool. She dragged her feet getting there, though no one in the watching crowd except Hayden and Dorian noticed, as they were too busy muttering about Harry Potter's daughter.

The real shocker, Dorian realized months later, was that the hat had barely been on her head ten seconds before it hollered, "SLYTHERIN!"

The entire hall went deadly quiet. Tristan's face was rigid, her eyes unfocused. Then it collapsed. She didn't burst into tears or beg to be switched, but her expression was so sad, so disappointed that Dorian wanted to run forward and hug her.

He, of course, was also sorted into Gryffindor (he was a Weasley through and through, after all).

It wasn't until the next day that they saw Tristy again. Hayden had been unnaturally quiet about the whole thing and that worried Dorian. Silence meant something big, in Hayden speak.

Dorian was just digging his fork into his pancakes when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Ian." Tristy's voice was timid, and still painfully sad. Her eyes were red, and he thought he could see the trails of tears that couldn't be more than an hour old.

"Hi, Tris." He grinned reassuringly up at her. Hayden, to both their surprise, pretended not to hear the exchange.

"Hi, Den," Tristy tried. No response. "Er – could I speak to both of you – outside, maybe?"

Dorian nodded and pulled Hayden up with him.

Out in the deserted entrance hall, Tristy turned to both of them.

"Are you okay?" Dorian asked. Tristy broke down instantly.

"Of course not!" she cried, fresh tears in her eyes. "The stupid hat was wrong!"

"What did it say to you?" Dorian asked.

"It told me I was perfect for Gryffindor," she sobbed, tears dribbling down her front.

"So why –?"

"'Cause it said things would be too easy for me there," she sniffled miserably. "Said I'd be good for Slytherin, like my – like other people in my family." She then noticed Hayden's dead expression.

"Please say something, Den," she begged.

"You lied," he said stonily.


"You promised!" he cried. "You promised you'd be in Gryffindor with us!"

"It's not my fault!" she said desperately. "What was I supposed to do? I begged the hat to reconsider. I told it it had made a mistake – it wouldn't take it back! I swear!"

"You swore you'd be in Gryffindor with us, too – but then, Slytherins are usually lying, cheating scum." Hayden's harsh words surprised Dorian. Usually, he didn't resort to name-calling. This probably meant he was waiting for her to beg for forgiveness. He had another thing coming.

Tristy's small hand whipped out of nowhere, cracking against his pale face with a sound like a shot.

"That was the most horrible thing I've ever heard, you selfish beast!" she hollered, cheeks flushed and eyes still streaming. "How do you think I feel? A Potter in stinking Slytherin! You have no idea the teasing and stuff that I had to put up with yesterday from my own housemates. I could have peeled Amber Higgs' sneer off with my fingernails! I have no friends in my own house, or apparently anywhere else!" And she turned and stalked away, head held high.

"She hit me!" Hayden said in wonder.

"You deserved it," Dorian stated flatly. "That lying, cheating scum bit was a low blow."

Dorian snorted. He had gone after Tristan himself and assured her that he was still her friend and they could still hang out, but things changed as they got older. He and Tristan remained friends, but Dorian's admittedly stupid attempt at a snog summer coupled with the distance of their houses made it tenuous, at best.

And, however Dorian looked at it, it really was Hayden's fault. Speaking of . . .

He was about to shout some rude advice to his friend when he saw Tristan dig something small, golden, and sparkling on a chain from beneath her robes. Frowning, Dorian watched, foreboding prickling the hairs on the back of his neck.

Hayden looked shocked, his grey eyes wide. He said something to Tristan and actually took a step back. Tristan grabbed the front of his robes and hauled him back, snarling something Dorian couldn't quite hear. Hayden relaxed in her grip, still staring at the little golden object in her hand. Finally, he gave a tight nod, and Tristan looped the long gold chain around his neck as well. The action brought the two even closer together, and Dorian watched them tense at each other's nearness. Tristan dropped her eyes, and began doing something with the object on the chain. Dorian strained to see, but he was too far away to be able to tell –

Suddenly, the two figures, shadowed in the dim light of the dungeon corridor, vanished.

Feeling the blood drain from his face, Dorian ran out into the hall, panicked, and skidded to a stop right where his two best friends had been standing.

But they were gone without a trace . . .