draco malfoy has appeared in memories you never lived. a rainy london street. a kitchen in paris. a quiet life that doesn’t exist. after an accident involving an ancient department of mysteries artifact, impossible fragments of alternate lives begin slipping into reality. most disappear as quickly as they come. draco never does. across countless versions of the world, you keep finding each other. the problem is that, in this one, you barely get along.
at hogwarts, everyone follows @hogwartsconfessions. every morning brings a new rumor. every sunday brings the power rankings—the twenty students everyone can’t stop talking about. draco malfoy’s been number one for years. then, for reasons no one can explain… your name appears beside his.
draco malfoy is your t.a. you’re his most argumentative student. every week, you show up to office hours convinced he’s stolen another mark. every week, he proves you wrong. unfortunately, neither of you seems capable of ending the conversation there.
starting a new job should be stressful enough without discovering your ceo is your secret husband. unfortunately, that’s exactly what happens. now you and draco have to pretend you’ve never met while your coworkers confidently decide another woman is mrs. malfoy. what could possibly go wrong?
you moved to nyc for a fresh start. new city, new friends, and—ideally—no more draco malfoy. unfortunately, you run into him at a massive wizarding rave. you’ve spent years existing somewhere between friends, rivals, and something neither of you has ever bothered to define. apparently, moving across the ocean wasn’t enough to get rid of him.
years after breaking up, you and draco malfoy end up sitting beside each other at a movie neither of you expected to feel so familiar. especially when the plot starts looking suspiciously like your own.
a friday night. too many drinks. one spinning hallway. when getting back to the slytherin common room suddenly becomes impossible, you end up texting the last person you expected to rely on. what begins as one inconvenient favor slowly turns into countless ordinary moments—and, eventually, something neither of you saw coming.
