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Chapter Text

Every spring and summer, the small part of Narcissa that enjoyed luxury and beauty itched to come back and rule her life. If there was one thing she would never regret about marrying Lucius, it was living in Malfoy Manor and not in the somber Grimmauld Place or the other equally dull Black properties.

She had always loved Malfoy Manor bathed in the sun, the gardens full of life, and their family magic humming pleasantly in the air. The roses added not only a regal grace, but also a sweet fragrance Narcissa adored. They also attracted a great variety of butterflies, robins and fairies. Their small pond sparkled under the sun, and the peacocks lay down under the fresh shadows of the trees, tired of chasing bowtruckles. It was a scene so perfect her fingers itched to paint it when it was in full bloom, before it was too late.

She knew in two years darkness would infiltrate, rotting the manor from the inside. Beauty and life would be drained in three years, leaving it like an empty shell, ruined like their family. 

The clock was ticking. She had so much to do.

A loud voice interrupted her thoughts. She sighed and waited.

The voice got closer. No longer childish, it was the smooth voice of a young man. Draco was growing up so fast.

Narcissa paid brief attention to the words. She always checked if lines were crossed, if Lucius tried to hurt their son. Like all the times since the school year ended, the argument stayed in heated words from Draco and not-so-surprising-anymore patience and stubbornness from Lucius. There was no need for her to intervene. Not since Draco turned out to be a very outspoken teenager and Lucius decided he wouldn’t retaliate in any way that would turn their son against them.

“I don’t want to go! It’s boring. It’s useless. It’s pathetic,” Draco walked into the room, scowling at his father.

Lucius looked at the ceiling and then at her, searching for patience. She gave him her most comforting smile.

“You can’t say such things about the meetings with our equals, Draco,” Lucius said.

“Our so-called-equals,” Draco scoffed. “You want me to be like them. To admire them. News for you! It’s not working! It won’t work! Never! You’re only showing me how boring it is to grow up to become one of your people, all babbling about how great they are, showing off their pure blood, while they are rotting inside their fancy robes”.

“This time the meeting is with someone closer to your age. Do you remember Marcus Flint? You’ll learn about his new job in the Ministry. He got it because of our contacts and he’ll tell you how much he enjoys–”.

“I don’t care!”

“Don’t yell, darling,” Narcissa said softly.

Draco threw her a betrayed look. She raised an eyebrow and he huffed.

Lucius continued his speech, keeping his voice monotone and firm.

“I’ve tolerated enough of your tantrums, Draco. You will be ready to go in an hour. You will behave according to your status”.

“Or what?” Draco asked, using his most haughty sneer. “I stay in my room? I would rather stay grounded than meet whoever you want to and listen to them for hours talk about their stupid families and their stupid privileges they are so proud of”.

“You will meet as many people as I tell you to, Draco. You will keep hearing about our legacy and our duties until you get back to the best path for you. You will not go to the Quidditch World Cup if you don’t fulfill your duties as my heir”.

Draco opened his mouth in shock. He closed it quickly. “You wouldn’t. You already have our tickets”.

“If you don’t behave, I will not take you with us. I will go with your mother and we will enjoy the game without your constant disrespect”.

Draco turned big pleading eyes to her, but Narcissa shook her head minutely. Her son had to learn to control his behaviour in unfavourable situations.

Draco glowered at Lucius. Realizing that neither of them were going to fold at his demands, he finally squared his shoulders, adopted the blank expression she taught him, and nodded in dignified defeat.

Lucius nodded, solemnly accepting his victory.

“I will go to my room to get ready”. Draco walked away. His anger showed on his stiff back and the ungraceful movement of his robes. 

“I don’t know why–” Lucius began. He sat on his favourite armchair and extended his hand. Immediately, an elf appeared with a glass of wine. Lucius held it and the elf disappeared. Lucius drank without relaxing his frown.

Narcissa could understand his frustration. In the other past, Draco would never raise his voice at Lucius. He would never question him, and he would be pleased to do anything his father asked him to. It was how Narcissa and Lucius had been raised, respecting their elders, obeying and believing every word they said, even if their words were tainted with hate and promises of violence.

But change was necessary for survival, and Narcissa was seeing the fruits of her changes, the results of talking more with Draco and pushing him to meet people outside his small circle of pure-blood friends. 

The Draco in the new present was not afraid to speak up against Lucius. Once he saw there was no harsh punishment, he grew bolder and refused to submit to Lucius' speeches or plans. While Draco had chosen subtlety years before, after his third year he became louder and more determined.

Lucius was clearly exhausted. He had changed too, not too much, but enough so Narcissa could notice. He had the same beliefs he always had, and he kept his firm decision on making Draco his heir, with everything it implied.

However, his approach had softened.

After his mistake with opening the Chamber of Secrets hurt their son, Lucius spent a year distant with Draco, granting him freedom and expensive presents. It was a silent recognition of his wrongdoing and it was the most he would offer instead of a verbal apology. Narcissa had taught Draco to understand such signs from prideful pure-bloods, but their son didn’t appreciate the distance or the presents.

Instead, he grew closer to all the friendships Lucius despised and got himself involved in supporting one of the lowest creatures in the magical world. After the infamous trial that presented a letter in support of a werewolf signed by Draco and many other students, Lucius had been furious. He had been loudly disappointed, but he hadn’t exploded like she feared.

“I should’ve known distance wouldn’t work,” he had told Narcissa. “Draco has always been so sensitive. I can’t expect him to learn our ways if I push him away”.

In the other past, Lucius hadn’t recognized Draco’s feelings, the strong emotions that moved his actions until it was too late. Lucius had abused the love and admiration Draco felt for him, and then left him alone to figure out the consequences of following orders unsuitable for a boy. He had been unable to understand and connect his ingrained coldness with Draco’s softer nature. Lucius had pushed him away. They went to Azkaban without talking about the important things. Narcissa was sure Lucius died without apologizing for involving him in the war. She only hoped Draco had known that his father loved him in the other past.

“He still resents me. He has forgotten to respect me and the education we granted him. My silence pushed him to those disgraceful people. He’s so smart and he’s wasting everything we taught him on the wrong sort. I have to be there with him and show him why we are superior. I have to show him how to get power the proper way”.

Narcissa agreed, though she knew Draco wasn’t opposing his father only as retaliation. It was a nice surprise for her Lucius was trying to be more present in his own way.

That summer, Lucius had spent great amounts of time introducing Draco to his allies. Important people in the Ministry, in society, even in St. Mungo’s. He showed how far they had gotten with their connections, their fortune and their families’ names. Of course, all of them were blood supremacists.

Draco had not been impressed. After the second meeting, he understood Lucius’ game and refused to continue. Lucius found ways to make him go with small punishments, like taking away his broomstick for a week or threatening to ground him. It worked most of the time.

Narcissa had suggested Lucius take Draco to activities he would enjoy, without insisting on his agenda.

Lucius didn’t take her advice as much as she would like, but he did go shopping with Draco, they went to the finest dining places in Diagon Alley, and Lucius took him to small gatherings with people their son actually liked, like the Notts, the Crabbes and the Goyles. Those times, Draco smiled more and complained less. Even Lucius was pleased with enjoying calm days with their son. Unfortunately, he always went back to his attempts of convincing Draco to behave and obey like a traditional pure-blood.

“Don’t push him too hard, dear. He will understand you with time,” Narcissa lied easily.

“I know. There’s always some people wanting to rebel and try improper things even in the best families. We will endure this phase until he grows up. I bet it takes him two years at most”.

“I’m sure you’re right. It would be reasonable to not force anything on him during this time. Let’s not give him reasons to rebel more”.

Lucius waved his empty glass and an elf appeared, filled it again and disappeared with a bow. Before drinking, he frowned at his left forearm and massaged it for a minute. Almost like a reflex, he patted his wand hidden in his robes. Calm returned to his face and he took a sip of wine.

“I will ask Draco to do only manageable things. Nothing definitive and nothing too demanding”.

“It will be the best course of action”.

“I agree. I better get ready to go. See you at dinner”.

Lucius walked away as refined as ever, but with a clear spring in his steps.

Narcissa hoped he used well the time she had given him. The chances to enjoy their peace was getting short. They had that last summer before the Dark Lord came back to his power. She wanted them to enjoy some time together before Lucius once again fell to his servitude and Draco was pushed away to protect him.

………

Harry woke up with his hand on his forehead, touching his throbbing scar. It hurt. Just like the times he faced Voldemort using Quirrel’s body. Only when the real Voldemort was close did it hurt so much.

Without his glasses, Harry squinted at his blurry dark room. Was there something out of place? Could Voldemort be looking through his window? No. It was impossible. He was safe.

Maybe it hurt because of his nightmare. Harry had dreamt something frightening, but it was difficult to remember the details. Something about an old house, an old man, Peter Pettigrew… and also a chilling voice and a snake. The voice had been the worst of all. A terrifying voice that plotted with Pettigrew, talked to the snake and ordered the death of the old muggle man.

What could it mean?

Harry shook off the remaining sleep and decided to ask Sirius.

He grabbed his glasses from his nightstand. After a second of hesitation, he grabbed his wand too. He opened the upper drawer and eyed his two way-mirror, but decided against picking it up. 

Harry put on his glasses and blinked, getting used to the clarity of a good sight. He could make out every object in his room, everything in the same place he left them. There was a pair of sneakers on top of his closed school trunk. A red jacket was forgotten on the wooden floor. His school books were disorganized in his small desk. Cramped with them there was also parchment, bottles of ink and one used quill. The dark green walls enhanced the gloomy air of his room. His big wardrobe, made of black wood, was closed. There were no signs of disturbance.

Harry sighed with relief. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Voldemort hadn’t somehow appeared in his room to attack him.

Before getting out of bed, Harry looked at the old clock in the wall. It was too early for breakfast. Sirius wouldn’t be awake yet.

Knowing he had time, Harry stretched and climbed out of bed slowly, enjoying the last seconds of contact with the unbelievably soft silky blankets. His new bed was big and so comfortable he didn’t want to get out of it. 

Eventually, he stood up and walked into his personal bathroom. Harry would never get used to it. His own bathroom! Only for him! It was perfectly adapted for his needs, full of products for his particular hair and for his skin. Harry didn’t know one person had to use so many products, but Sirius had insisted on purchasing everything for him.

Living with Sirius was like a dream come true.

After his third year at Hogwarts finished, Harry went back to the Dursleys. However, a day after he arrived and settled on his bedroom, Sirius went to visit him. He was using some kind of enchantment to change his appearance, because all the muggles knew him as a loose murderer in the news. 

Not even his enchantments could trick the Dursleys, though. Aunt Petunia had a supernatural sense to feel when something was not normal. She immediately knew Sirius was a wizard, and tried to close the door on his nose. Of course, it didn’t work.

Sirius talked his way in, only waving his wand threateningly once, and walked straight to Harry. He had been in the kitchen at the time. Shocked at the sudden visit, Harry had let the bowl he was holding fall into the floor. Sirius had hugged him, cleaned the floor with a lazy move of his wand and a whisper of a spell. Aunt Petunia didn’t dare to complain.

It was unreal, having Sirius in the house Harry hated so much. His godfather was a force to be reckoned with, and in a day he did so much that Harry thought he could produce a Patronus. 

Sirius asked about Harry’s living situation. His gaze grew colder when he saw his small room, the smallest of the house, full with Dudley’s old and broken toys. He stared at his clothes, which Harry rushed to explain Draco’s mother helped him get the new ones and the older ones were Dudley’s. Sirius glared at the tiny bed, at Hedwig’s closed cage, at the lack of pictures of him in the walls. Sirius had asked about his school stuff and discovered the cupboard. 

Sirius had yelled a lot.

He had waved Harry away and got into a row with Aunt Petunia, who was trembling through it all, but faced him coldly.

“How could you? To the son of your sister! Your own nephew!”

“Where were you, then? Where were your people when I needed help raising an abnormal child that exposed my vulnerable son to his abnormalities? Where was the money his father was supposed to have when we had to rearrange our whole lives to include a non-planned child?”

“That doesn’t justify you at all! You are a fucking bitch, a coward, you hurt a child!”

Sirius had stayed until uncle Vernon came back from work and had a row with him too. Harry was pretty sure magic was involved, because he heard shrieks of fear once. Dudley had come to his room and asked if his godfather was going to kill his parents. Harry had to reassure Dudley that nobody would die. It had been awkward, waiting for it to end, patting Dudley’s trembling shoulder.

Sirius had left in a huff, telling Harry he had warned them to treat him right.

Harry lived two weeks with the Dursleys. Two weeks with afraid Dursleys who wouldn’t meet his eyes. A terrified aunt Petunia who kept her eyes glued to the windows and doors. An angry but subdued uncle Vernon who muttered under his breath, but didn’t hit Harry and didn’t let him starve. A jumpy Dudley who tried to stay either in his closed room or in the house of one of his friends. 

Then, Sirius came back waving official-looking papers and took Harry to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” was the first thing Sirius said after apparating Harry out of Privet Drive. “Dumbledore was being his nutty self and tried to block my claim in the Ministry, but the Wizengamot was on my side, for once. They couldn’t deny James and Lily’s wills and they wouldn’t refuse a pure-blood. My house is ugly and old as shit, but I think I got the worst out of it. What do you think?”

Harry thought the house was magical. It was under a Fidelius Charm, because of Dumbledore’s insistence, and Sirius himself was the Secret Keeper. The house was big, submerged in shadows, some parts were decaying, and it was full of weird artifacts.

Harry thought it was way better than the well-kept house in Privet Drive, where everyone hated him.

Sirius gave him a big room to himself, and he took him shopping for everything he needed. Harry was free to decorate his bedroom however he liked, change whatever could be changed, and ask as many questions as he wanted.

The pantry was always full and open to Harry at any time of the day. Sirius didn’t cook very well, but he tried. With a book of recipes and Harry’s patient guidance, he turned out to be a decent cook after one week. Whenever he failed and burnt their meal, he took Harry out to eat in muggle London.

There was only one being displeased with Harry. He was an old house elf that Sirius despised, but couldn’t free because of security reasons. Kreacher loathed Sirius and muttered insults about Harry’s blood any time he saw him. He didn’t cook anything, and tried his best to be out of Harry and Sirius’ sight.

There were rooms Sirius told him not to enter because of spells or cursed objects, and there were creepy creatures lurking in a couple of rooms, but Harry loved living in Grimmauld Place.

Sirius was great and he loved telling stories about Harry’s parents. He had even met his grandparents, moved with them when he was sixteen. He told him how good the Potters were, how noble, and how they all would’ve loved Harry.

There were some times when Sirius fell silent. Some days, Sirius would stay in his room and wouldn’t go out at all. Some days, Harry heard him cry or yell or even break stuff.

He was getting better, slowly but surely.

Harry knew Sirius had appointments with healers to help with his recovery after Azkaban. Apparently, the Wizengamot had forced him to do it to grant him Harry’s custody. The effects of being exposed to Dementors were difficult to treat, but Sirius said the healers were helping him a lot. During the days he had to go to St. Mungo, Sirius let Harry decide if he wanted to stay in the house or visit Sirius’ cousin.

Tired of being left behind by the Dursleys, Harry always chose to visit Sirius’ family.

Andromeda Black was Sirius' first cousin. She was kicked out of the Black family because she married a muggle-born, Edward–Ted– Tonks. They had a daughter called Nymphadora, who made Harry promise to only call her Tonks.

Andromeda had been on really good terms with Sirius before he was sent back to Azkaban, and they had picked up their contact after his trial. 

The Tonks were nice, they liked Harry and they made him feel comfortable. Tonks was a little bit like Sirius, more energetic and a rebel, unlike her very demure mother. Tonks was like an older sister, while Andromeda and Ted were the kind but firm aunt and uncle.

Harry had heard about them before meeting them. Andromeda was the sister of Draco’s mother, and he remembered his friend telling him stories about them in school.

Andromeda had told Harry and a very surprised Sirius that Mrs. Malfoy had introduced them to Draco, visited them and allowed them to correspond. However, the sisters had a falling out over something Andromeda refused to elaborate.

Luck was against Harry, because Draco only wrote to the Tonks and he couldn’t visit them anymore. His tiny hope of a casual meeting in the Tonks’ house was destroyed.

Living with Sirius meant Harry could talk more with his friends. Sirius let him send as many letters as he wanted. He apparated Harry to the Burrow so he could spend time with Ron and the Weasleys. Sirius even joined them all in playing Quidditch and stayed for dinner. He offered to get Harry to visit Hermione, but she was busy travelling around the country with her parents.

Unfortunately, the security measures Dumbledore was forcing on Sirius were very demanding. Sirius couldn’t tell their location to anyone, which meant their floo wasn’t connected anywhere. Harry couldn’t have anyone over. At least he could do magic. Sirius told him the trace didn’t work on magical households, and he wasn’t keen on following rules. For the first time, Harry could actually practice the spells he didn’t get right the year before and he could try new ones.

Since he wasn’t allowed visits, Sirius bought a small cake for Harry’s birthday. He blew up the candles at midnight, Sirius clapped and cheered, and Harry wouldn’t trade that moment for nothing else. During the day, Sirius apparated with Harry to the Burrow again, where they celebrated and opened presents. Back to Grimmauld Place, Harry was so full he could barely walk, carrying various presents from all his friends and Sirius.

He was grateful to them all, and he cherished everything he got. However, only two presents were placed with his most prized possessions. One was Sirius’ present, which was some kind of scrapbook, filled with written memories, pictures and letters between Sirius, Remus and James. Harry read it all and touched the letters with longing. He placed it in the drawer he assigned to all the things related to his family: Hagrid’s picture album, Draco’s book with a chapter about the Potters, the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder’s Map.

The other present was Draco’s and it was sent with his owl Iris. It was a miniature stag made of crystal. It was charmed to move and rise into the air, just like his patronus. Harry was glad he opened that one alone, because he had blushed so much he had to wash his face twice before his face got back to normal. He placed the stag in his nightstand and looked at it every night.

Harry missed Draco. They still talked through the mirrors, but not as much as Harry wanted. Draco told him he was very busy. His mother was teaching him more spells and duelling, and his father was dragging him to boring meetings.

Fortunately, the chance to see him again was very close. The Quidditch World Cup was hosted in England. All his friends were going. The Weasleys got tickets thanks to Mr. Weasley’s friends in the Ministry. They even had one for Hermione. Sirius had gotten tickets too, for top box seats, just like the Weasleys. The Malfoys had a top box seat too.

After rambling about the teams and the quidditch players they would see, Draco agreed on meeting before the match with Harry, Ron and Hermione. He promised to spend time with them no matter what. 

The only bad thing about the Quidditch World Cup was Remus couldn’t go with them.

The former teacher had been released two weeks before Harry’s birthday. Tonks had informed them immediately, and Sirius went to meet him and brought him to Grimmauld Place. Remus had been living with them since then.

Azkaban had been really bad for his health. He was weak, he couldn’t lift anything heavier than a cup of tea, and he didn’t talk much.

Harry didn’t see him much the first two weeks, because Remus spent most of his time in his room, sleeping. Whenever he got out, it was slowly, leaning on the walls and dozing off mid conversation. Sirius had reassured Harry that he had taken Remus to St. Mungo’s and he was drinking a lot of potions to recover. Sirius had also bought him his dose of Wolfsbane. Remus had been so exhausted after his first transformation out of Azkaban, he couldn’t get up for a full week, and he missed Harry’s birthday.

He was slightly better, but it would be impossible for him to do the trip to the Quidditch World Cup. Sirius had offered to stay back with him, but Remus had refused and pushed Sirius to spend time with Harry. Harry felt a little guilty, until he spoke with him.

“Your heart is really noble, Harry. Just like James. The amount of times he offered to stay with me in the hospital wing instead of seeing a Quidditch match… I’ll tell you what I told him back then. It doesn’t make me happy when you stop living your life because of me. I’d rather you go, have fun, and tell me everything afterward. Could you do it for me?”

Harry agreed.

Remembering all of it calmed Harry. He lived with two awesome men he trusted. They would know what to do about his dream and his hurting scar. He would meet his friends soon and they would help too.

Harry got out of his room and walked downstairs. He found Kreacher lurking in front of the closed curtains that covered a painting of Sirius’ mother.

“Good morning,” Harry greeted him awkwardly.

“The half-blood is talking to Kreacher. He dares walk around the house like he belongs here. Dirtying everything with his filthy blood. Kreacher will pretend he is not there”.

Harry shrugged and walked to the kitchen. Kreacher’s hateful murmurs were nothing compared to the Dursleys.

He checked the pantry. He put water in a kettle to make some tea and cooked himself scrambled eggs. Harry was placing his food on the table when Sirius walked through the door. He did a double take.

“Harry! Why are you up so early?”

“A nightmare”.

Sirius frowned. He stepped closer and ruffled his hair. “Want to talk about it?”

“Yeah, actually”.

“Good. I’ll just take a cup of tea for Remus first. He woke up because of his joints aching. He needs something to pass the taste of the pain potion”.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. He’s such an old man,” Sirius laughed, but there was no real joy in his eyes. “Wait for me, okay?”

“Okay”.

Harry waited patiently, eating slowly. Once Sirius was back, he told him everything. From his scar hurting to his nightmare.

Sirius was frowning by the end of it. “Are you sure your scar only hurt when you were close to Voldemort?”

Harry nodded. 

Sirius clicked his tongue. “There could be many reasons for this. I’m not an expert on scars product of dark magic. I may have to ask Remus. Is it okay?”

“Of course”.

“If the worst comes to worst, we’ll have to inform Dumbledore. I’d rather not do that, though. That old man has been such a nuisance. I don’t want to talk to him for a long time”.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. He knew Sirius still resented Dumbledore because he tried to block Sirius getting Harry’s custody. Harry was slightly resentful too.

“Well. What we know is Voldemort is definitely not here, not anywhere close to the house. Our wards are strong and only I can tell anyone where the house is. I’ll ask Remus and we’ll tell you our theories later, okay? Maybe after the Cup if we don’t find anything today. Remus could use the time to research while we’re away”.

“All right”.

“Don’t worry about it. You focus on choosing your outfit for the Cup. Remember we’re going early tomorrow. Choose something casual. Maybe green, to bring out your eyes. You want to impress my little cousin, right?”

Harry threw Sirius a dirty look.

“I don’t recommend you follow Witch Weekly’s advice, though”.

“I’m not– I don’t know what you are talking about,” Harry stuttered.

Sirius smirked. “I saw all those magazines you bought. Their tips don’t really work. Look, I’ll write some pick up lines you can try on our dear little Malfoy”.

“I have to do homework,” Harry lied. 

He scurried out of the room and tried to ignore Sirius' loud laughter. 

Sirius loved teasing him. Despite that, Harry knew his godfather had good intentions. He considered his words carefully. Would pick up lines work? 

………

It was finally, finally August 18th. The day of the Quidditch World Cup! Oh, it was such a beautiful day already. Draco could float all the way to the entrance. Instead, he skipped happily. Father was waiting downstairs. Boring as he was, he frowned at Draco’s display. Draco raised his nose and didn’t stop his happy little jumps until he reached Mother.

She was as lovely as always, smiling and waiting for him. She wore elegant muggle clothes in dark peach and white. Draco had chosen his best muggle clothes too in soft blues and grey. Comfortable, but stylish. Of course, the one to complain would be Father.

“You look too comfortable wearing those”.

Draco judged his boring black muggle suit with a raised eyebrow. Father ignored him and talked to Narcissa.

“The Ministry is forcing us to hide again because of the stupid muggles. It would be proper to show our discomfort”.

“That’s all right, dear. I’ll make sure to drop our true opinion to the right people. We are only complying because of the Statute of Secrecy”.

Her words seemed to calm Father down. Draco stared at them, curious. He was fourteen, and smarter than he was the year before. He had started noticing things, patterns in his parents' dynamics. He knew Mother was able to talk Father into anything she wanted, using just the right words and agreeing to do or believe in things she did not always follow. Draco knew she had taken him to muggle places and the Tonks’ house behind his father's back. It was clear she didn’t believe in the same stupid things Father did. She was just that good at playing him.

Technically, Draco could do the same. It was the subtle, easy way to get what he wanted. He didn’t want to, though. He didn’t care about upsetting Father’s sensibilities. Discovering his boggart the year before only strengthened Draco’s resolve to be whatever he wanted. If his biggest fear was disappointing his father, angering him and losing his love, it could get in his way. He had to get used to it. 

Father had been weirdly patient, though. Not raising his voice or his hand once, even if he kept pushing too much like he always did. 

Draco bit back a laugh. His father would be so mad once he learnt Draco’s plans for the day.

The three of them walked outside the manor, where the elves were waiting with their stuff to set up a small tent. They had booked the place close to the stadium just in case the match extended for days.

“We’re ready to go,” Father ordered.

Draco held Mother’s hand. The elves apparated them all.

The owner of the campsite was a muggle called Mr. Roberts. Draco stayed silent and bored while Father recoiled and refused to interact with the man. Thankfully, the elves had disappeared before they approached the muggle house of Mr. Roberts. Mother took charge of it and paid in muggle money, being careful not to touch him to not anger Father. She let the man keep the change, and they followed Father’s rushed walk to their campsite.

“Incultured, abnormal, dirty, ignorant,” Father muttered under his breath.

“I know, dear. They shouldn’t have let the muggle there. I heard they’re obliviating him any time he starts suspecting something. It must be tiring”.

Draco looked back and saw a tired wizard in awful muggle clothes watching at Mr. Robert’s house. When a family wearing robes knocked on his door, Mr. Roberts grew confused. He started asking questions, louder, until the wizard obliviated him.

“But if they obliviate him too much won’t it hurt him?” Draco asked.

Mother raised an eyebrow and Father turned an icy frown to him.

“I mean, it would be easier to confound him or trick him only once, and use that chance to send him away for a week. Why keep him here, if it’s bad for us and for the muggle?”

“You’re so smart,” Narcissa cooed and petted his hair.

Father’s glare softened, but his frown didn’t disappear. “It is true. The Ministry is full of stupid people. It’s better to keep muggles away from us, everyone knows it”.

“I didn’t mean–”.

“They are truly inefficient,” Mother cut him off.

Draco huffed. He didn’t like when she did that to not get on Father’s bad side.

They walked until they reached their place. It was too close to other tents for their liking, but they couldn’t do anything about it. It was obvious the Quidditch World Cup would be full.

Ignoring the Ministry warnings, Father set up the camp with magic. Their tent was beautiful and high in contrast to the other ones, as elegant as a tent could be.

They stepped inside carefully.

It was a great space. Not as big as the manor, of course. But it was definitely bigger than Aunt Andromeda’s house. Father called the elves and they appeared. Lawy and Jun were holding the peacocks, while Kari and Zalo held a big box of ingredients. Lucius waved his hand and the elves started to work. Lawy and Jun bowed and went to enhance the wards at the entrance of the tent, and to leave the peacocks there. Kari and Zalo prepared breakfast in less than ten minutes.

Once he finished eating, Draco asked to look around.

“Draco,” Father called him before letting him go. “Make sure to greet every important person you see. I introduced you to a lot of us. Make sure to leave a good impression”.

“I will,” Draco agreed. It wasn’t difficult.

“I know you will look for your friends. Even the unsuitable ones”.

“So what?” Draco snapped.

Mother looked at him, scolding his reaction, but Draco ignored her.

Father took a deep breath. “I know you are going to do it despite whatever I say. Just make sure to be here on time to walk with us to the stadium. We will have the French Head of International Relationships for lunch. You are free to join us”.

“I’d rather eat with any of my friends”.

Father looked disappointed, but he didn’t insist. He nodded and turned his back to him.

“Here. So you can have fun with your friends”. Mother gave him a small pouch full of galleons.

Draco thanked her and rushed outside.

Finally free!

He walked around, glancing curiously at a couple of extravagant tents. He knew Vince and Greg couldn’t afford the tickets. Theo’s father was the most boring man ever, so he didn’t buy them. Pansy could be there somewhere. Daphne and Blaise too. Draco looked around for them. He found Blaise in a mixed group with Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. They talked for a short time and Draco scurried away. After fifteen minutes, he finally found Pansy. She was walking around with Daphne and her little sister Astoria. It only took Draco a look to know Pansy wanted him to leave them alone. Like the good friend he was, he winked and walked away.

He had hoped to mix his group of friends, but he guessed the Gryffindors were fine.

After some time, Draco recognized three figures carrying buckets of water.

“Harry!” He called. “Hermione! Ron!” He waved enthusiastically until they turned around and saw him.

He noticed his friends had changed over summer. Ron was unfairly taller again. Hermione was smaller. Or maybe Draco grew up more. But Harry was the one who changed the most. The git was almost Draco’s height! Unbelievable. Draco eyed him warily. Was Harry an inch shorter? Maybe less? He now could look him in the eye without craning his neck at all. His glasses and his clothes were new too. He wore a green shirt and black jeans that fit him well. He was less thin than before. His vivid green eyes looked happier.

Draco smiled. It seemed like Sirius was doing his job in taking care of Harry. He couldn’t be happier for his friend.

Chapter Text

“Harry!”

Harry could recognize that voice anywhere. He turned around as fast as he could. There he was. Draco Malfoy walked confidently, the wind tousled his pretty hair just right, and he was showing his even prettier smile. Pictures and the surface of his two-way mirror didn’t do Draco justice. How could he grow more gorgeous in two months? It was so unfair.

Time seemed to slow down while Draco walked, and Harry appreciated each second gratefully.

“Harry, breathe,” Hermione whispered at his side.

Harry remembered he, indeed, needed to breathe. He inhaled a gulp of air and almost choked. Why was his body betraying him like that? He needed to look cool, not pathetic.

Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing smirks. 

At a closer distance, Harry realized he was almost as tall as Draco. Harry straightened his back. Nope, he wasn’t the exact same height, but the difference was smaller.

Draco was already talking. Harry tried to focus.

“–lots of free time before the match and I was wondering if I could stay with you,” Draco said.

Harry’s heart picked up the pace and his stomach jumped with glee. His voice refused to appear.

“Of course you can,” Ron agreed after a second of silence.

Harry thanked him silently. His brain was overwhelmed.

Ron and Hermione asked Draco about his summer. Harry would enjoy staying in silence, drinking in the sight of Draco all day, but he knew he had to engage in the conversation. Witch Weekly said communication was important. Draco was his friend, talking shouldn’t be difficult.

Right, it was the time to try to say something romantic and clever, like Sirius suggested.

“And you, Harry? You’ve been a bit quiet,” Draco said.

“I’m sorry”. Oh, Harry had the perfect one. “I just got lost in your–” But what could he say? “In your eyes” was too simple. Maybe something else like his smile? Or his hair? Everything in Draco was worthy of praise.

“My what?” Draco tilted his head to the side, just a little, eyes glinting, happy and unbothered with nerves like Harry. 

“Your stories. You were saying interesting stuff,” Harry mumbled, defeated.

“Oh, I know. I’m a great storyteller,” Draco gloated. “But didn’t I tell you all that before?

Hermione and Ron threw him twin pitying glances. 

Harry mumbled an excuse and Hermione saved him by asking Draco questions about the essays they had to write.

They approached their camping plot. Sirius had booked the one next to the Weasley’s.

Mr. Weasley was outside, trying to light a fire with matches. 

Draco greeted him politely and Mr. Weasley answered with a smile, but his eyes shot back to the matches every two seconds. Every time he managed to get fire, he let the match fall. With a huff, Hermione went to help him. She left Draco her buck of water, and he carried it with a pout.

“My whole family will be here, except mum,” Ron told Draco. “Even Bill and Charlie are apparating soon with Percy”.

“Oh! Your dragon tamer brother will be here?” Draco perked up. “Nice. I have so many questions”.

Harry remembered Draco had rambled about dragons for hours during those weeks they helped Hagrid with Norbert in first year. He was as enthusiastic with dragons as he was with Quidditch. Maybe more.

They stepped inside the magical tent. It was just a bit smaller than the one Sirius had bought.

His godfather was lounging on the Weasley’s couch, talking with the twins about their dream joke shop. He raised his gaze and he beamed at Harry. Then, he noticed Draco and his smile turned into an annoying smirk Harry unfortunately knew very well.

“My favourite cousin!” Sirius jumped out of the couch and hugged Draco.

“Isn’t this my ungrateful cousin? Your flattery doesn’t work, I know you’ve been telling Tonks she’s your favourite,” Draco grunted, fighting to get rid of Sirius.

“I only tell her that because Andy’s scary,” Sirius said happily. He took a step back and ruffled Draco’s hair. “You grew up a lot since I saw you!”

“I know. Not so much as Ron, though”. Draco tried to pat his hair in a semblance of order after Sirius’ hug.

Harry wished he could help him. Running his fingers through his silky hair was a dream of his.

“Dray-Dray! We were waiting for you!”

The twins approached with identical mischievous grins. Draco narrowed his eyes.

“Hi?”

“We’re taking bets on the match’s results! How much do you put on Ireland? Or Bulgaria?”

“I’m not betting”.

“Come on, it’s fun! Who are you supporting?”

“Bulgaria, but-”

“Then let’s bet! We say Ireland wins”.

It took some time to calm down the twins, who kept insisting on betting. Eventually Sirius saved Draco offering a high bet himself.

Hermione came back, declaring she had successfully helped Mr. Weasley. She sat with Ron, Harry and Draco. They quickly caught up about their summers, and then their talk turned to Quidditch. Ron was very passionate about Bulgaria’s Seeker, Viktor Krum. Draco completely agreed, and both of them were horrified that Harry and Hermione didn’t know him. They started sharing many of Krum’s great catches and they described his style of flying as something only a genius could achieve at his age.

The delicious smell of the eggs and sausages was filling the tent when Ron’s three older brothers arrived.

“We just appeared successfully, dad,” Percy announced in his loud and pompous voice. “Is lunch ready?”

“Not yet,” Mr. Weasley answered patiently.

“We’ll help,” Bill offered. “Oh, there’s more of Ron’s friends. Hello!”

Ron introduced Draco to Bill and Charlie.

Harry and Hermione had already met them the day before. Sirius and them had stayed over at the Burrow to take the portkey together with the Weasleys. They had gotten up before dawn, walked to the hills and taken one portkey with Cedric Diggory and his father Amos.

Draco seemed interested in Bill’s work as a cursebreaker, but even more on his clothes. The first time he saw him, Harry thought Sirius and Bill shared the same style. Bill was a really cool guy with his long hair, fang earring and dragon hide jacket and boots. In Grimmauld Place, Harry had seen lots of pictures of Sirius wearing leather jackets, boots and long hair like a rockstar. He even wore one new leather jacket that day. The difference was Sirius favoured muggle clothes, while Bill clearly had a thing for dragon hide.

Draco finished admiring Bill’s fang earring and started talking really fast to Charlie. He was shorter than Bill, Percy and Ron. His clothes weren’t carefully chosen to match as Bill’s. His face was cheerful and kind, but he wasn’t as cool as Bill was. However, Draco was looking at Charlie like he was Merlin reincarnated or something. Charlie showed him his burn scar on his arm and Draco let out a delighted shriek.

Harry huffed.

“If you want him to pay attention to you, you have to talk more. Don’t get all shy now,” Sirius mumbled to Harry.

He shook his godfather off and stepped to Draco’s side.

He was talking with Charlie about dragons, of course. Harry waited patiently to get Draco’s attention back. And waited. And waited.

There seemed to be no end to the dragons Draco wanted to ask about.

“Did you really tame a Chinese Fireball?”

“It’s not exactly taming them. We work together with them, work on winning their trust and respect, and we take care of them”.

“Did you work with a Chinese Fireball?”

“Yes, I did”. 

“Excellent. Tell me everything. Is it true that their flames are larger than any European dragon?”

Draco shot question after question, and Charlie answered cheerfully. He was totally invested in the conversation.

“You know a lot,” Charlie praised.

Draco’s cheeks turned a soft pink. “Thanks. I love dragons. I have read a lot since I was little”.

“It shows. I think you know more than the newcomers in the reserve”.

Draco’s blush deepened.

Harry realized he was scowling. He tried to relax his frown, but it was difficult when Draco was blushing and giggling with Charlie Weasley.

Harry saw his chance when Mr. Weasley announced lunch was ready.

“Lunch must be ready. We should go,” Harry chimed in.

Draco didn’t turn his eyes away from Charlie. “Just a moment. I want to know if you have ever seen an Antipodean Opaleye?”

Harry’s scowl returned with force. It was justified. Draco had been talking with Charlie longer than he had talked with Harry since they met. It wasn’t fair. Charlie didn’t know Draco, he didn’t care about Draco and yet he got his eyes on him and all his smiles that he didn’t appreciate like Harry did.

“The food will get cold,” Harry said over whatever Charlie was saying.

“You can go. I’ll catch up soon,” Draco said quickly.

Charlie, however, had finally stopped staring at Draco and instead turned to Harry. He noticed something, because his eyes widened with recognition and then he smirked. It was more like a good-natured smile, but for Harry it seemed like a smug smirk.

“It’s fine, Draco. We can talk later. Let’s go eat”.

“Can I write to you, then?”

Hell, no. Harry snatched Draco’s arm and tried to pull him to Mr. Weasley. “We should go,” he said between his teeth, doing his best to keep his voice in check.

“You can owl me. I’ll answer your questions,” Charlie laughed. He dared to wink at Harry and then finally went away with Bill and Percy.

“You’re acting really weird,” Draco complained. He dug his heels on the floor and stopped their advance. “Stop. I don’t like you dragging me around like this”.

Harry immediately dropped his arm.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, ashamed. What was he doing? He couldn’t stop Draco from talking with other people. He had been so happy and Harry had butted in, ruining his good mood. He wore a small pout, clearly dissatisfied his talk with Charlie had been cut short. Harry didn’t like making Draco lose his shine.

“Is something wrong?”

Harry refused to meet his eyes. Yeah. I want you to look at me and talk to me. I want you to be happier when you are with me. I want you to miss me like I’ve missed you. There was no way Harry could say all that.

“I’m okay”.

Draco scrutinized his face. Harry kept his eyes glued to the floor of the magical tent. It was an interesting floor. Or was it ground? Harry didn’t see when Draco moved, but suddenly there was a soft warmth just over his hand. It wasn’t a full grip. Draco was only touching the back of Harry’s hand carefully.

“You’re upset,” he said softly. “You can tell me why later, if you want. For now let’s go eat. Let’s go sit with Ron and Hermione”.

Draco always did things like that. He touched Harry like it was normal, like he wasn’t igniting fire in Harry’s chest and taking his breath away at the same time. He was used to touching his friends, like holding Pansy’s arm, shoving Ron playfully and getting hugs from Hermione. He was so generous giving affection to them, and he treated Harry like he was only one friend more. Draco didn’t notice it was different. He didn’t notice the effect he had on Harry.

Harry usually didn’t like being touched. He only liked it with the closest people to him, like Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Remus, though it still surprised him whenever one of them hugged him.

It was so different with Draco. Harry didn’t only like his touch. He loved it. He didn’t want to let go.

Harry turned his palm up and held Draco’s hand properly. He laced their fingers together, softly, not tightening his grip at all. If he wanted, Draco could easily get out. He watched Draco’s reaction. He didn’t look angry or disgusted. Faint pink was back on his cheeks.

“Let’s go”.

They walked to the table with the Weasley’s. It was a bit chaotic, because the twins wanted to eat quickly, and Mr. Weasley was trying to put some order with Percy’s help. Bill and Charlie only laughed at the twins’ antics, and took turns talking with Sirius, who was close to them.

“Where is Ginny?” Mr. Weasley asked loudly.

“She said she’d stay with Luna Lovegood,” Ron yelled back. “We found her on the way to the water fountain and she left us there”.

“She can’t be there all day,” Percy protested.

“The Lovegoods’ are fine. Don’t worry,” Bill chimed in. “I’ll go for her later”.

The Weasleys were too busy talking between themselves to notice them. Harry sat next to Ron, Draco immediately next to him, and Hermione sat on Draco’s other side. Ron and Hermione were making faces at him, but all his bad mood disappeared anyways. Harry felt relaxed there. Draco was at his side, he was surrounded by his friends. Sirius sat right in front of him, Charlie sat on the edge of the table, away from them. Everything was perfect.

During their meal, Ministry officers walked in front of the tent, sometimes stopping to talk with Mr. Weasley. Percy jumped out of his seat every time and bowed at everyone. The twins mocked him for it, but Percy only glared and continued doing it. The most notable people they met were Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Bartemius Crouch, Percy’s boss. Bagman was the one who helped Mr. Weasley get the tickets for the match. He didn’t care about the Statute of Secrecy in the camping site, and instead cared most about Quidditch. He had been a Quidditch player himself, a beater for the Wimbourne Wasps and the English National Quidditch team. He offered them to bet, but the twins had already bet all their money to Sirius. Shortly after Bagman accepted a cup of tea, Crouch walked in. He was the Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Percy claimed the man was very respectable, and that he spoke more than 200 languages. Crouch and Bagman discussed how difficult it was to coordinate such a large event, then they mentioned the disappearance of Bagman’s worker Bertha Jorkins, and they left everyone curious after mentioning there would be another event soon.

After eating, Harry suggested they look around and his friends agreed. 

Anticipation grew every hour in the camping grounds. Shows of magic became more recurrent and way more noticeable. Soon the Ministry workers gave up trying to keep everyone in check. Lots of vendors appeared, yelling the very magical names of their products and their prices.

Ron bought a hat with moving clovers, a green rosette that yelled the last names of Ireland’s players, and a miniature figure of Viktor Krum. Draco got himself a red scarf for Bulgaria with a roaring lion, a red rosette and two Bulgarian flags.

“For you”. He gave Harry the flag. “Now you have to support Bulgaria with me”.

Draco smirked, and Harry nodded, ready to agree with everything he said.

“That’s unfair! Harry, you promised to support Ireland!”

To calm Ron down, Harry bought a green flag too.

They found omnioculars, magical objects shaped like binoculars, but they could slow down and replay the actions being watched. Ron lamented he had already spent all his money. “Give me four,” Harry asked the vendor. Ron tried to refuse, but Harry said jokingly it would be his Christmas present for the next ten years. Ron agreed to accept it. Draco accepted his omniocular easily, and Hermione too. She only bought information brochures. Draco bought a Bulgarian scarf for her and insisted until she wore it.

Ron protested that Draco was using his money to buy everyone’s support. Draco and Ron bickered about the best team for a long time, until Draco saw the sky and said he had to go.

“Can’t we walk together to the stadium? Our seats are close, right?” Harry asked hopefully.

“My parents want to walk together. I’ll see you all up there”. Draco waved his goodbyes and left.

Harry, Ron and Hermione wandered around a little more. They found Seamus and Dean again, then once again they met Wood. After Wood took ten minutes talking about the chances of Ireland winning, they walked back to the Weasley’s tent

All the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Sirius followed a magically illuminated path to the stadium. It was enormous, Harry had to crane his neck to see the top and even then it was almost impossible. Sirius was enjoying the festive atmosphere, talking animatedly with Harry about how much James enjoyed the World Quidditch Cups in their youth. Apparently, the Potters had gone to each and every one until the war made it impossible. Ginny appeared out of nowhere, having spent all afternoon with Luna, and she glued herself to Bill’s side.

Mr. Weasley led them all to their seats in the top box. At first, only a female house-elf called Winky sat there. The poor creature was scared of heights and covered her eyes, but refused to leave her job of guarding Mr. Crouch’s empty seat. Hermione tried talking to her and she admitted knowing Dobby, but she didn’t agree with Dobby enjoying freedom too much. It made Hermione frown.

Before Winky could elaborate, Ludo Bagman climbed to his seat in the front row, ready to commentate the match. Cornelius Fudge and the Bulgarian Minister of Magic appeared too. Percy bowed at all of them, and all of them showed interest in Harry. Luckily, he could hide behind Sirius, who shooed everyone off.

The Malfoys joined them in the top box too.

Mr. Malfoy was arrogant and hateful as always. He bit his tongue in front of the Minister, but he sneered at the Weasleys with all his might. Mrs. Malfoy was polite, but very distant. She didn’t sneer, but she didn’t indulge in small chat either. Draco greeted them again, loudly and cheerfully. Ginny answered immediately, being the one who didn’t get to talk to him before. Lucius Malfoy watched their interaction with horror and after a minute, he started whispering furiously until Draco rolled his eyes and turned away.

“His father is so horrible,” Ginny muttered, sitting down.

“He is. Draco is nothing like him,” Harry said.

Being right next to his parents, their similarities and differences were easy to find. Draco had his father’s grey eyes, his almost pointy nose and his white-blond hair. However, Draco’s hair was slightly wavy, clearly influenced by his mother’s. It almost reached his shoulders, and it reflected all the lights in the stadium. His face was also softer, lovelier, probably because of his mother’s delicate features and the lack of a sneer. 

Ron elbowed him to look away from the Malfoys.

“You’re being too obvious, mate”.

Harry elbowed him back and paid attention to the starting match.

………

It was time to see the creatures each team had brought as their mascots. Draco squinted.

“Ooh, Veela!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed somewhere in the rows behind him.

Father huffed and muttered an enchantment to block his ears. “Pat me on the arm when their poor performance is over,” he said to Mother.

She nodded and Father closed his eyes, his scowl showing how indignant he thought it was to make wizards like him suffer the effects of the veela.

“Do you want me to cast the spell, dear?” Mother offered.

Draco shook his head, leaning forward. “I want to see. I’ll try to occlude”.

She nodded and raised an eyebrow at the entering veela.

Nobody could deny their beauty. They were in their human form, all shining and too attractive to be normal. They were all blonds, probably part of the same community. Draco knew Veelas could look very different, depending on their places of origin and their ancestors.

He suspected Blaise’s mother was at least part veela.

The veela started dancing and Draco raised his occlumency walls. He noticed all around him men and some women were entranced, some of them acting weird under the veela’s magic. Draco didn’t feel his mind attacked.

Mother was watching the performance, looking bored.

Draco lowered his occlumency walls. Nothing happened. The Veelas didn’t have an effect on him. The realization was not as surprising as Draco expected. He had always assumed he would eventually marry a witch like his parents wanted, but no woman had ever attracted him.

Draco wondered if male veela could affect him. He remembered a few seconds of insanity when he thought Lockhart was handsome, and a few instances when Blaise was surely using his veela blood to make himself look better, and his maybe too deep admiration for Viktor Krum. For some reason, he also thought of green eyes and hands that felt just right on his. He shook his head. He liked guys, then. Only guys, like Pansy only liked girls. He had wondered if he maybe liked both, but it seemed like he didn’t.

Curious, he looked around. Mr. Weasley, Sirius, Bill, Percy, the twins, Ginny, Ron, and Harry were all entranced and acting weird. Draco raised an eyebrow at Sirius and Ginny. There, the proof people could like both men and women. His eyes found Charlie’s. The man smiled kindly and Draco looked away, right into Hermione’s gaze. She wasn’t entranced either. Her brown eyes’ widened, surprised. She glanced at Charlie, then at Ginny, then back at Draco and her confusion changed to understanding. For a second, Draco felt like panicking. Instead, he only raised a finger to his mouth and then turned away. He knew she wouldn’t betray him.

Father was still with his eyes closed and Mother looked like she could fall asleep. Neither of them noticed Draco’s small realization.

The veela stopped dancing and Draco composed his face. 

The Leprechauns were fun and eye-catching. Draco could freak out in the back of his mind during their performance.

The match started. It was so amazing it made him forget every worry he had. The Irish team was incredibly well-coordinated, the Chasers worked like they knew what each other was thinking. Their passes flowed easily, naturally, and their dives, turns and feints were clean. Because of them, Draco wondered if he should change his position in the Slytherin team.

Then, he saw Krum flying and his doubts disappeared. Krum was really a perfect Seeker. His flying style was so effortless, graceful and fast. He caught everyone’s attention even when he wasn’t the center of action. When he did the Wronski Feint, Draco cheered so loud Mother covered her ears. 

The result was unfortunate for Draco’s team, but it made sense. Ireland won because of their amazing Chasers, but Krum caught the Snitch. When the players walked close to them to receive the World Cup, Draco sighed dreamily.

………

Father led them out of the top box really fast. He wanted to avoid Draco talking to the Weasleys longer than necessary. Draco yelled his goodbyes at them to annoy him.

They found the Parkinsons on the way down. Father invited them to their tent and they agreed.

Draco used the time to gossip with Pansy, careful to stay out of the earshot of the adults. She told him everything she heard through the grapevine, and she complained about her parents with Draco. He complained too, and he confessed easily what he learnt after seeing the Veela. Pansy hugged him.

“I must say I suspected it. You were ogling at Lockhart in second year”.

“We don’t talk about stupid mistakes,” Draco muttered angrily.

Pansy laughed and promised to not tell anyone.

It was easy to relax with her. They were used to entertaining themselves while the adults discussed boring stuff. Draco noticed elves were being called to bring bottles of expensive alcohol. More people visited the tent. Old friends of Father that Draco didn’t know very well like Macnair and Avery. They were getting louder and louder, though Mother casted privacy spells. Even his prideful father was grinning like Draco never saw him do.

“They are inebriated!” Draco said bewildered. “So much for keeping up appearances! Look at them!”

Pansy was just as surprised as him. “Your mother doesn’t seem happy”.

“Of course not. She’s above Father’s stupidity,” he whispered happily. If Father fell or splinched, Draco would never let him forget it. He kind of deserved to embarrass himself. It would be so funny.

Their mothers whispered something, then turned to their husbands. Pansy’s mother approached them and told Pansy it was time to go. She would take Pansy to the Parkinson manor.

Pansy waved goodbye and her mother called an elf to apparate them both.

After they left, both Father and Mother approached, exchanging angry whispers.

“You stink,” Draco said loudly.

Father’s eyebrow twitched, but he remained composed. “Draco. Go to the forest until your mother looks for you”. 

Draco blinked. “This forest? Now? It’s cold and creepy”.

“Us adults want to have some fun,” Father said calmly. “You won’t like what you see if you stay here”.

“Gross”. Draco scrunched his nose and turned to Mother. “Can I go home, then? We can go together”.

“I want to have some fun too,” Mother said with a face so stony it was obvious she was lying. “I’d rather you go to the mansion, but–” she glared at Father– “Your father has other ideas”.

He put a firm hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco tried to shake him off, but Father didn’t let him. 

“Draco, you are a Malfoy. As much as you like to defy my orders, you will always be my son and a Malfoy”.

“I know”.

“Then you must know your actions have repercussions on me and your mother, on ourselves. And it’s the same for us. Our actions are always linked to yours. We are a family, and we will always be connected”.

“What are you trying to say?” Draco asked, exasperated.

Father exchanged a glance with Mother and then patted Draco’s shoulder. “I need you to stay in the forest tonight. You will be safe as long as you don’t step out of the forest. It’s crucial for our reputations and our family that people see you there”.

“Why?”

“It will make people believe something we want them to believe”.

“What? Stop talking in riddles and say it”.

Mother tapped Father’s arm and stepped forward.

“Your father’s friends want to have fun, Draco. To enhance our alliances, it is important that we indulge them. We both are going to stay with them. Please, stay in the forest, Draco”.

“I don’t understand–”.

“It’s your duty as our heir to do whatever will help your parents, Draco. Or do you want people badmouthing our names? You have a responsibility as the Malfoy heir”. Father lost his patience. He started pacing, fuming.

“But what does your fun have to do with me being there?” Draco asked.

“Reputation and credibility,” Mother said. “Believe me, Draco. It’s better if you don’t know the details. We will do some things— You don’t have to see. You don’t have to do anything. We love you and we want you safe. The forest is a safe choice”.

“But–”.

“It’s important we stay on the good side of important alliances,” she added. “And it’s important for your father that people see you stay”. Draco could say she wasn’t happy about it. She was clearly uncomfortable, but determined. “You will be safe. I swear it. We love you”.

She didn’t wait for his answer and called Lemer and Jun, her personal house elves.

“Take Draco to the forest. Stay with him and protect him. Keep yourself out of sight unless it is absolutely necessary for you to appear. We want other people to see Draco, but do not let anybody hurt him and do not let him approach the camping grounds. You will not take any order from Draco that contradicts mine. You will not talk until I call you back”. 

“Wait!”

There was a loud crack.

Draco wasn’t in their tent anymore. He was in the forest. The stadium was impossible to see. He looked around. There were only trees and bushes.

“Lemer? Jun?” He called.

The elves were nowhere in sight. Draco scowled and kicked a tree. It was totally out-of-character for mother to send him away and give him orders without explanation. What was she thinking? What were his parents doing?

Draco walked to the border of the forest and stayed there. He looked around once more. He tried taking a step out, but an invisible barrier made it impossible. He huffed.

“Lemer! Jun! I am your master too. Let me out”.

The elves didn’t answer. Draco groaned. Stupid loyalties. Lemer and Jun had been elves of the Blacks and Mother brought them with her when she married Father. They only answered to her. Neither Draco nor Father could order them to do something Mother didn’t want.

“I will die of boredom,” Draco claimed.

The elves didn’t answer. They weren’t easy to fool. Draco kicked a tree again and then took his wand out of his pocket. He conjured small birds to keep himself entertained.

A few minutes later, he heard people shrieking.

Draco raised his gaze and saw smoke covering the camping grounds. There was smoke and people running away from something.

“What’s happening?”

Draco tried to step out of the forest, but he couldn’t. The barrier the house elves raised held strong. Small groups of people ran into the forest, clearly afraid. Then, small groups turned into a crowd. Everyone looked desperate. 

“The poor muggles–” Draco heard a small girl saying in french.

“They must be English traditionalists. Don’t worry, they won’t hurt us,” her mother replied in french too. “I can’t apparate, but let’s walk deeper into the forest. We will be safe there”.

Draco tried listening to the other conversations, but most people only cried or hid quickly, not bothering to talk to him. He couldn’t step out of the forest to see. He could do nothing.

Draco paced and paced, growing desperate to learn what happened, until he saw Fred, George and Ginny in the forest.

“Weasleys!” He approached them quickly. There was no barrier to stop him.

“Draco!” Ginny greeted, waving.

Before he could get to them, Draco found himself with a wand to the face. He froze. Immediately, a magical shield appeared between him and the wand. House elve’s magic.

“Stop! Fred, what are you doing?” Ginny shrieked. George held her at his side, while Fred kept his wand pointing to Draco’s face.

“Sorry, Draco,” he winced. “It’s necessary. After we saw— I need to know– Did you know what was going to happen?”

“What?”

“Did you know? Did you help them? Are you with them?”

“With whom?” Draco shouted. Desperation and anger were creeping into his voice and his face. “I don’t know what happened. I was sent here before the smoke appeared and people started coming here!”

“He doesn’t know, Fred,” George said. “They sent him out to keep him safe”.

“Will you tell me what is happening?”

Fred lowered his wand. “Sorry again, Draco. We had to check”.

“Check what?”

The twins exchanged a look and started whispering, ignoring Draco. The protective shield disappeared.

“They didn’t tell him”.

“But are we sure they–?”

“I would bet fifty galleons his father is one of them”.

“But are we sure he didn’t know?”

“Stop!” Ginny yelled. “You are idiots. Of course nobody told him. Draco is not like his family, we all know that. They must know it too”.

The twins shrugged. Ginny huffed at her brothers and walked closer to Draco. Her face changed from anger to determination with a hint of pity.

Oh. Pity.

Draco felt dread. He knew that look. It didn’t precede good news.

“There is a group of Death Eaters in the camping grounds,” Ginny said. “All of them are masked and wearing black robes. There are not too many, but they are out of control. They’re burning tents left and right. They’re hexing anyone who tries to stop them”.

She hesitated and glanced at her brothers.

“They are doing bad things,” she said quietly.

“They are levitating muggles in the air. They are making the children fly in circles, they are hanging the woman upside down so they can laugh at her knickers. They are torturing them,” Fred added somberly. “Dad, Bill, Charlie and Sirius stayed to fight them. Everyone came here running away from them”.

"Your father’s friends want to have fun", Mother had said. Disapprovingly, but not too worried about it. Father and her had stayed with Father’s Death Eater friends. They were probably masked, torturing the muggles and laughing about it.

They had sent Draco to the forest…Why? He came up with an answer quickly. They made him stay because they could lie to the Aurors if they were interrogated afterwards. If they weren’t caught in the act, they could claim innocence. They would say Draco running to the forest was proof, because they wouldn’t put him in danger. They would claim their poor son was scared and ran away with all the victims. How could anyone accuse them of anything that could harm their only heir?

But Draco was not a victim. He was safe and protected by two loyal house elves, while his parents tortured innocent people and used him to keep their reputations clean.

Draco felt sick. He turned his back to the Weasleys and tried to hold himself together. He leaned his weight on the tree.

“Are you okay?” Ginny sounded worried.

Draco had always known Father believed muggles were inferiors. He had always known Father wouldn’t bat an eye to hurt someone he considered a lesser being. He had seen him hurting their house elves, hadn’t he? Why was he surprised? He didn’t have a right to feel bad.

Father had done something like that in second year. Getting inside of Hogwarts the diary that opened the Chamber of Secrets. Father had planned for a monster to attack innocent muggle-born students. Pansy had been possessed and Hermione had been petrified because of his stupid plans.

He had no reason to feel disappointed or sad. He already knew Father was like that. 

Draco felt like throwing up. He clenched his jaw and blinked back tears.

Ginny patted his back, and the twins said something he didn’t hear.

The Weasleys were fighting against the Death Eaters, of course. They had always supported the good side, unlike the Malfoys. But now it wasn't only his father, was it? Mother was there too. She was there too, hurting people to keep Father’s friends happy. She had talked with Hermione’s parents, she had smiled at them, she had bought Draco muggle clothes and muggle books, but when it was time to choose, she would follow Father. Their alliances were more important than anything else. 

Draco breathed. He straightened himself. Ginny and the twins were behind him, hesitant and pitying him.

“Where’s Harry?” Draco asked suddenly. “And Hermione? Ron?”

The twins exchanged a glance.

“We lost them in the crowd”.

Draco’s heart stopped. 

“But we’re sure they’re okay,” George added quickly. “Dad told all of us to come here. They must be somewhere close. You know them, they can keep themselves safe”.

Draco knew them. Trouble always found them. He patted his pockets. He didn’t have his mirror, but he had the pin Harry gave him. He took it out. The emerald was green. Harry wasn’t in danger. Or he had forgotten the pin. Knowing Harry, it could happen.

Draco wondered if he could send a patronus. He had never been able to cast a corporeal one before. But maybe this time he could.

He tried to choose a happy memory. He knew nothing about his family would make him feel joy in that moment. He tried to think about his friends, all of them okay and having fun. He opened his mouth, ready to say the words, but a light appeared on top of the trees.

It rose higher and higher, and it stopped in the middle of the sky. People in the forest shrieked.

The conjured light was the Dark Mark. The mark Death Eaters wore on their left arms, the mark that Father had. The twins got out their wands and looked around wildly.

“Ginny, Draco, stay close to us”.

Draco knew that mark meant someone died. Had Father’s friends killed someone? Or had Father done it? Draco wished he hadn’t. Maybe Mother stopped him from doing something like that. But they had still known and watched their allies torture the muggles. It didn’t change that they had crossed a line that night.

“Our actions are always linked to yours,” Father had said. “You have a responsibility as the Malfoy heir”.

It was right, in a twisted way. Not only did Draco have to show everyone he was different, he had to stop his parents. They loved him, didn’t they? They didn’t approve of his actions, yet they didn’t punish him harshly or forced him to act like them. Maybe they could change for him. He had to try. That was his responsibility.

Chapter Text

The platform was full, as it always was on September the First. Father wasn’t there. Draco had proclaimed loudly he would not tolerate his presence. Knowing not to push his buttons after the World Cup’s incident, Father had agreed to stay away. It wasn’t enough. Complying to his easier demands but not regretting what they did wasn’t enough.

“Remember we love you,” Mother said just before Draco boarded the train.

“Funny way you show it,” he retorted.

Mother’s smile dropped. She, who always wore the perfect mask to every occasion, showed a hint of her real feelings in a public place.

Immediately, Draco felt guilty. He didn’t want to hurt her. He was disappointed, and angry, but he would never want to hurt her.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, softly, “I do love you too”.

She nodded, her face turning back to the expressionless mask Draco knew very well. 

“I understand you’re angry with our choices. I know it’s not ideal, but we have reasons”.

“Stupid reasons,” Draco muttered. He turned away from her. “I’m not coming back for Yule or Easter holidays”.

“I understand,” she said quietly. “If you change your mind–”.

“I’ll write”.

He hugged her quickly and boarded the Hogwarts Express. 

The last couple of weeks had been tense in the manor. Father hadn’t bothered lying or trying to soften his participation in the attacks during the Cup. He told Draco it had been only a bit of fun, a way to remember his good old times with his friends. “Good old times,” he had said, not caring that such times alluded to torturing muggles or worse. Mother had been right there, masked and cloaked like him, walking at his side. Pansy’s father and most of their important friends had participated too.

Draco was rightfully pissed. He had yelled at them how awful he thought they were, barely holding back angry tears. Father had dismissed him, telling him he could disagree as much as he wanted at home, but to never question them in public or in front of their allies.

“That’s the only thing you care about! Your stupid reputation and your stupid Death Eater friends!” Draco had shouted at the top of his lungs.

His father had clenched his jaw. “I do care about you, Draco. If you didn’t notice, I’m allowing you all the liberties you could want. I’m even ignoring your constant disrespect. As long as you fulfill your role as my heir in public, as long as you keep on the good side of the right sort, I’m letting you do everything you want. Whatever activities I choose to participate in, you should not let them upset you”.

“You hurt people!”

“I’m getting tired of you protecting lesser beings. Will you behave or do I have to ground you until school?”

“Ground me, then! I’ll stay in my room until September. It will be best if I don’t see your stupid face”.

Draco had stomped to his room. Mother had tried to soothe him, but he was angry at her too. She, just like Father, didn’t care about what they did. She told him it was how Father bonded with his allies, that she didn’t like it either. But she had allowed it. She was more worried about upsetting Draco than about what they did. It was like second year again, he thought bitterly. Just like when his friends didn’t care about people getting hurt, only caring if one of them was upset. Draco didn’t expect his family to protect muggles and muggle-borns, but he wanted them to at least not hurt them. It wasn’t much to ask.

Draco wasn’t alone once he stepped into the train. Like every year, Vince and Greg found him quickly and helped him with his trunk. Pansy and Theo joined them in their compartment shortly after. Draco relaxed into their easy company.

Pansy filled time with gossip, until Draco felt good enough to lead their talk to the Triwizard Tournament. Father and Mother had shared all the information they had with him, trying to ease him into talking with them. Draco hadn’t shown his interest with them, but he could let himself enjoy the news with his friends. 

Pansy and Theo knew too. The three of them did their best to explain the magnitude of the event to Vince and Greg. Then, they shared everything they knew about the past tournaments and theorized on what the tasks could be planned. 

Draco and Theo were in the middle of a discussion if Dementors counted as magical creatures that could be part of the tasks or not, when their compartment door opened.

It was Harry.

“Hi! Can I sit with you for a moment?” He barely glanced at everyone else and smiled only at Draco.

“Hello, Potter. Great to see you. We exist, you know?” Pansy said sarcastically.

Harry waved at everyone without paying much attention.

Draco felt slightly awkward.

He had been worried sick about Harry in the Cup. However, barely a minute after the dark mark appeared in the sky, Mother had apparated with an elf and took Draco away from the twins and Ginny.

He hadn’t been able to talk with Harry until hours later. He had used the mirrors, and Harry told him everything, from how the Ministry workers had attacked Harry, Ron and Hermione, how they believed they had invoked the Dark Mark, to Crouch’s house elf Winky stealing Harry’s wand. 

Harry reassured him he was fine, despite everything else. Mr. Weasley had found them and brought them to the Burrow with Sirius.

Once he was sure Harry was okay, Draco had ended their conversation.

Somehow, during their time at school Harry had turned into Draco’s guide of what was good and what was evil. It began in their first year, when Harry was right that You-Know-Who was evil and unfortunately alive. Until then, Father had said his Dark Lord was powerful and worthy of admiration, that it was only natural to follow him, but that he had unfortunately died. It had been the first time Draco realized Father was wrong.

Then second year came. Father had been behind the diary that opened the Chamber of Secrets, he hadn’t cared about muggle-borns being hurt, unlike Harry, who had defeated the basilisk and Riddle in the diary. 

Harry had always fought to protect. He always chose what was good. Unlike Draco’s family.

He was so embarrassed.

While Harry and his friends were wrongly accused in the Cup, Draco knew at least half the people under the cloaks. And yet, as much as he disapproved of what his parents did, he couldn’t help the twinge of worry about them. He didn’t want them to be sent to Azkaban.

Harry had asked vaguely if he knew something, and Draco had been so ashamed he couldn’t hide it, but couldn’t admit it either. Somehow, Harry understood without words, because he only nodded gravely and stopped asking.

Draco hadn’t talked much with him since then. Yet, there Harry was, happy to see Draco as if nothing had happened.

Harry had a silent scuffle with Pansy until he managed to push her aside and sit next to him. She didn’t surrender without a fight and elbowed Harry hard. Draco chuckled at their antics. 

“Do you know if something is supposed to happen in Hogwarts this year?” Harry turned to face Draco. Their knees were touching. “The Weasleys and Sirius dropped hints, but they didn’t tell us”.

“Don’t you want to enjoy the surprise?”

As he expected, Harry answered “I’d rather know”.

“It’s the Triwizard Tournament. There, you can go now,” Pansy muttered.

Draco glared at her rudeness. She pretended not to notice.

Harry didn’t seem annoyed. “What’s that tournament?”

With a sigh, Draco explained quickly. A very short summary of the history of the tournament, the schools involved and the tasks he had read about. Once he mentioned the risk and deaths in the past, Draco remembered who he was talking to. “We won’t be able to participate. It’s for seventeen-year-old-students or older,” he added hastily. 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t thinking about participating”.

“Sure, but all that risk might be tempting for your Gryffindor blood”.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“We think one task could involve Dementors. What do you think, Potter?” Greg asked cheerfully.

They chatted about the dangerous creatures or spells they thought could be used in the tasks. Vince and Greg didn’t mind involving Harry into their talk. They had warmed up to him after Draco’s many chats and their study sessions the previous year. Eventually Pansy gave up her attitude and participated too. Theo chose to hide behind a book. 

When they were close to Hogsmeade, Harry said his goodbyes and scurried away from their compartment.

Draco and his friends went back to their usual gossip during their ride on the horseless carriages. Once in the Great Hall, Daphne, Blaise, Millicent, Tracey and Fay joined them in the Slytherin table. Pansy quickly told everyone who didn’t know about the Tournament before Dumbledore’s speech. 

However, the headmaster’s first words weren't good news.

“There won’t be a Quidditch Cup this year,” Dumbledore declared.

People at the other tables cried out in despair. Draco almost joined them, but Pansy pinched his arm. It took a moment for it to make sense. Maybe because of the Tournament, Hogwarts didn’t have the capacity to continue with Quidditch. It was so unfair!

Draco glanced at the Gryffindor table and found Harry quickly. They exchanged mournful looks across the hall.

“Come on, Draco. I’m sure you can ask Snape to let you fly anytime you want,” Vince tried to cheer him up.

He perked up. “Maybe we can all fly together on the pitch! I’ll ask him”. 

Dumbledore called for attention and the chatter quieted down. Before he continued his speech, a terrifying man entered the hall. He made a grand entrance, banging the doors open, glaring menacingly with his magical eye and stepping loudly with his wooden leg. Many of the first years avoided looking at him.

“He’s the Auror Moody, isn’t he?” Theo leaned closer to Draco and whispered carefully. 

Draco nodded. Father and Mother had warned him about that man coming to Hogwarts. Alastor Moody knew which families had been associated with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He didn’t care about diplomacy or reputation. He treated everyone who sympathised with dark wizards as if they were criminals.

“Don’t provoke him,” had been Father’s words.

“Whatever he says about us, you will stay silent. If he does something to you, you can go to Snape. But try to avoid getting his attention as much as you can,” Mother had said.

The headmaster shook Moody’s hand and whispered to him. There was trust between them. Then, he announced the man would be their new Defense teacher. For once, his parents were right. Draco repeated their warnings to Theo, who nodded gravely.

“My father told me the same. After the incident during the Cup, he can be very unpleasant”.

Moody sat at the high table and Dumbledore continued talking. Finally, he mentioned the Triwizard Tournament. The Slytherins acted like it was old news for them. They smirked smugly at the confused students at other tables.

Draco enjoyed seeing the surprise on everyone’s faces. Especially the twins who were making a spectacle of it in the Gryffindor table. Everyone was excited for the arrival of international students, the dangerous tasks, the future champions and the prize money.

“Our champion must be a Slytherin. We are the only reasonable house,” one of the older students said.

“Who could it be, though?” Pansy whispered to Draco. “Do we have strong candidates?”

Draco eyed their table carefully. He knew the people in the Quidditch team and he wasn’t very fond of them. None of them were respectable or worthy of representing their house.

“Unfortunately, I think we don’t have many options,” Draco whispered back.

“Warrington and Montague look interested”.

Draco scoffed.

“Come on, Montague is not so bad,” Theo said. “At least he’s a Slytherin”.

“I’d rather have someone with a brain representing Hogwarts”. Draco raised an eyebrow at Theo. “Even if he or she’s from another house. Don’t you agree?”

“Fine,” he grunted. “But who?”

Daphne, who was close enough to listen in, enumerated all the remarkable students she knew in other houses. A couple of them were pure-bloods, but most of them weren’t. Draco knew the names and the faces she mentioned, but he wasn’t partial to any of them. The one he knew better was Diggory, and only because he was the Hufflepuff Seeker.

The talk about the possible champions of Hogwarts extended throughout dinner. Everyone chose someone and defended their participation with feats like being Prefects, Head Boys or Head Girls, and being good Quidditch players. It continued until all of them settled in their dorm rooms.

Once their chat died down, Draco fell into his sheets with a relaxed sight. He was surrounded by people he trusted, people he liked and liked him back. While most of their parents were similar to his own, Draco knew his friends were slowly changing. It showed when they didn’t immediately refuse any candidate because of their blood status. 

………

The tournament and the magical schools overseas were the favourite topics in Gryffindor tower. The twins were loudly planning ways to cheat around the age restriction. They were determined to participate and win the one thousand galleon prize to start their joke business. Hermione and surprisingly Neville knew a lot about those other schools. Harry hadn’t really thought about magical education in other countries before. He was really curious and waited impatiently for October, when everything would start.

The lessons were more difficult than before. Teachers kept giving them talks about how their O.W.L.S. were closer, even if the exams were in fifth year. There was more homework, more theory to read and more spells to practice. Unfortunately, Gryffindor shared only a few lessons with Slytherin.

“Cheer up, mate. We have Care with the Slytherins next. You will see Draco”. Ron elbowed Harry cheerfully.

Harry glanced around. They were walking to Hagrid’s hut, where the man would teach the lesson. There was nobody close enough to listen.

“Stop being so loud”.

“You should talk to him”. Hermione was holding her Monster Book of Monsters open, but her eyes were studying him carefully. “I don’t think he would hate you or stop being your friend if you tell him you like him”.

“No. I won’t risk it. I’m doing this right”. Harry was determined on that point.

She nodded wisely. “You should at least tell him you like men. Once you tell him that, he will recognize dating you as a possibility in his subconscious mind”.

“Hermione is right,” Ron chimed in. “As much as Draco can be perceptive for other stuff, he is blind about feelings. You have been pretty obvious and he doesn’t suspect a thing. Maybe he thinks you’re straight”.

Harry thought about it during their walk.

Sirius's advice had been to not be shy, to show his interest, and to talk more with Draco showing his funny and smart side. He had tried, but Draco hadn’t noticed any of his efforts. 

Maybe Ron and Hermione were right.

They mingled with the group of students close to Hagrid’s hut. Draco was there with his Slytherin friends. Hagrid called for their attention and told them all to follow him. He led them to a clearing close to the forest. He told them to wait and then went into the forest to bring whatever creature they would be studying.

“I hope we’re not studying his dear spiders”. Draco approached Harry’s group with his friends in tow.

Ron paled and stared at the forest apprehensively. “Do you think he would–?”

“Hagrid wouldn’t do that,” Harry said loyally. However, he wasn’t sure.

Hermione turned the pages of her book quickly. “Those spiders were Acromantula, right? There’s nothing about them in the book. He wouldn’t teach something that’s not in the book”.

“So it’s true there are Acromantula in the forest. Terrifying and disgusting things,” Parkinson shivered at Draco’s side.

“I want to see one”. Crabbe stood on the tips of his toes and squinted.

“I wish we could study dragons,” Draco sighed dreamily.

“Even if we could, it would be in our last year, not now,” Hermione said.

“Boring”.

“Hagrid’s back with something. It doesn’t seem like spiders, though,” Crabbe told them.

In a few seconds, Hagrid reappeared. He walked with a small group of strange creatures, half-horse half-birds. All of them wore collars linked to iron chains. Hagrid held all the chains in one hand.

“Hippogriffs! Aren’t they beautiful?” Hagrid said happily.

Harry could see why he would call them beautiful. While they were big and just a bit frightening, their haircoat and feathers had a healthy shine and the change was eye-catching.

“Aaaw they are so majestic!” Daphne exclaimed. Lavender and Parvati joined her cooing.

The Hippogriffs seemed proud of the attention they were getting. They puffed their chests and raised their beaks.

“They are not dragons, but they are cool,” Draco mumbled.

Hagrid introduced the hippogriffs by their names to the class. He told them they were proud creatures and that nobody should ever disrespect them or they would get aggressive. He freed one of them, Buckbeak, and called for volunteers to show how to greet them. Everybody stepped back. 

Harry stood in his place, unwilling to disappoint Hagrid.

“Great! Harry, get closer”.

Harry followed the instructions carefully. He walked slowly, he bowed and he held Buckbeak’s gaze without blinking. It took some time, but Buckbeak bowed back. Everyone clapped. Before Harry could recover from the tension, Hagrid suggested he petted the hippogriff. Harry did so. The feathers in Buckbeak’s head were soft. He closed his eyes and accepted the pet. Everyone clapped again.

Harry was ready to step back, but Hagrid suggested he could ride Buckbeak. He hesitated. The hippogriff was nice, but riding it didn’t seem very safe. Everyone was looking at him. Even Draco. What if he fell and embarrassed himself? However, a tiny voice in the back of his mind told him it would look really cool to ride a hippogriff. It wasn’t a dragon, but it could be impressive. 

Thinking of a bright smile and admiring grey eyes, Harry said “I’ll do it”.

He approached Buckbeak and patted his neck. He glanced at the crowd. Draco was on the front, his eyes glued on him. Harry forced a confident smile and climbed on the hippogriff's back. Hagrid gave him a signal, large wings unfolded, the hippogriff trotted and rose above everyone’s heads.

Once in the air, it was difficult to think about anything besides not falling. Harry had to be careful to not remove a feather or upset the creature in some way. The flight wasn’t as stable as a broomstick. He couldn’t control the direction or the speed. However, Harry had always loved flying, and while it was different, it wasn’t awful. Buckbeak flew a couple of rounds around the clearing, and then lowered, aiming at Hagrid.

Harry did his best to not fall during the landing, hugging the hippogriff’s neck tightly. When he felt Buckbeak was on the ground, he climbed down with shaky legs. Everyone cheered.

Harry straightened his back and walked to his friends, trying the charming smile Sirius had made him practice on the mirror.

Draco stood with Ron and Hermione with his arms crossed and frowning.

“Must you always put yourself in danger?” Draco complained.

Harry felt his smile fading.

“Don’t be a killjoy,” Ron chimed in. At the same time, Hermione said “I think it was really brave. Everyone thinks so. Don’t you, Ron?”

“Of course. Harry is really brave”.

In the background, Hagrid told them all they could separate in groups to try bowing and petting the hippogriffs.

Draco scoffed at them. “Of course Gryffindors think you were brave”.

“So I wasn’t?” Harry said.

“I didn’t say that”. Draco finally focused on him. Harry was sure his disappointment was very obvious on his face. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Draco said quickly. “I only meant– I just– I’d rather you not do dangerous things”.

“It wasn’t that dangerous. Hagrid was here”.

“Anyone else could’ve done it”.

“Everyone else was scared. Even you”.

Draco made an affronted noise. “I wasn’t scared”.

“Right. But you didn’t volunteer. I did”.

“Fine”. Draco raised his arms to the sky in exasperation. “You were so very brave, oh great Harry Potter. Forgive us simple mortals for worrying over you”.

Oh. So he was complaining because he had been worried. Harry felt his smile widening. “Thanks, but you didn’t need to. I had it under control”.

“Of course perfect Harry Potter could tame the hippogriff”.

“Do you think I’m perfect?”

For once, Draco opened his mouth, but no words came out. Harry waited, willing his face to not warm up. Before either of them could say anything else, Hagrid told everyone loudly to stop talking and choose a hippogriff.

“Draco, let’s go”. Pansy appeared at his side. She pulled his arm and led him to the Slytherins.

As soon as he was out of earshots, Ron and Hermione started giggling.

“Shut up,” Harry said, but he was smiling. 

………

Draco liked the hippogriffs. They could be dangerous, but once they accepted the greeting, it was only common sense to not upset them. Draco had to elbow Pansy lots of times to get her to control her mouth, but by the end of the lesson everyone in the group had managed to get the hippogriff’s trust and pet it. Even grumpy Theo had been successful. Of course none of them had attempted to ride it, they weren’t stupid like Harry. 

The other lessons were getting slightly more challenging, but Draco didn’t have any issue getting the spells right. While Mother hadn’t been as tyrannical as the previous summer, she had made him practice spells from fourth and even fifth year. He was especially confident in DADA, because she had focused her lessons in curses, counter-courses and protective spells. The new teacher could be an issue, though.

Rumours had expanded that Alastor Moody didn’t hold back from proclaiming loudly stuff some families would rather keep a secret.

“I heard that he called the father of Jeremy Hightower a coward Death Eater in front of the classroom,” Daphne whispered to Draco and Pansy. “He’s in sixth year in Ravenclaw. There was no proof against his father, but Moody said he could smell the rotten. He asked Jeremy about dark curses, telling him his father liked to use those”.

“He has no manners,” Pansy protested. She shifted uncomfortably. “Do you think he will do the same to us?”

“It’s almost sure,” Draco sighed. 

The situation was so tense a Prefect talked to their year.

“There are a lot of you that he will hate by your names alone. Do not give him reasons to take points or worse, give you detention. Chin up and remain quiet. Do not lower yourselves to his level”. 

It was true that in their year there were more children of former Death Eaters. If one person could bring out Moody’s bad mood, five of them would get much more attention. Draco made a quick plan with all the Slytherins in his year.

Luckily, they had Defense with Hufflepuff. Draco had met many times with Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan and the Smiths thanks to his mother. He sweet talked them into helping to avoid an uncomfortable situation for everyone. With Daphne’s help, he convinced them to hide those who could get Moody’s attention.

Draco sent Vince and Greg to the back of the class. Muggle-borns Justin Finch-Fletchley and Lily Moon sat in front of them, doing their best to cover them. Pansy sat at the back too, with the shy Hannah Abbott at her side. Theo was a bit more difficult to place, but Draco sent him to the seat closest to the wall, and Macmillan sat next to him. Draco himself sat at the front next to Susan Bones.

The other Slytherins mingled with the Hufflepuffs the best they could.

When Moody walked into the classroom, he didn’t show surprise. His face was as unpleasant and fierce as always. However, his magical eye was looking around wildly.

From the corner of his eye, Draco saw when the magical eye stopped on him for almost ten seconds, before turning away. He was definitely paying more attention to him and his friends.

Moody started with a roll call, the eye stopping on every face when he mentioned the name. He quickly introduced himself as a former Auror, friend of the headmaster. Then, he started the lesson on unforgivable curses.

Draco expected the prejudice and the direct offense, and yet it was difficult to remain unfazed.

“Ah, the Imperius Curse. I’m pretty sure half of you are familiar with that one. Mr. Malfoy, why don’t you enlighten us? I’m sure your father must have told you all about it”.

Draco kept his face impassive, but he felt his cheeks warm. He couldn’t control his angry blush. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir”.

“Your father, boy. He claimed to fall victim to the Imperius when he was accused of being a Death Eater. Poor, poor Lucius. I’m sure he studied the effects a lot to back up his story. Talk”.

“Imperius is the curse to control people, right? I read the effects on an advanced book,” Daphne said loudly.

Moody glared at her with his normal eye. The magical one was still glued on Draco.

“You’re Miss Greengrass, right?”

“Yes, sir”. 

“I was asking Mr. Malfoy. Do not speak out of turn”.

“I’m sorry, sir”.

Draco gave her a thankful smile that she returned.

Moody explained more about the curse, how it worked on all living beings. He used it on a spider, which he made dance and jump into their desks. The man asked Theo about the Cruciatus curse, of course mentioning his own father. Theo said he didn’t know and refused to answer Moody's taunts. The teacher looked very angry. Luckily, that time Susan Bones offered the answer. For the last curse, Moody asked Pansy and then Vince. Neither of them answered and Macmillan explained the curse. 

Seeing the spiders suffer from control, torture and killing was shocking. Moody said it only worked with intention, that only people determined to do it could cast the curses. He did it without hesitation, claiming it was to prepare them. Susan Bones cried after the last curse killed the spider and she left the class in a hurry when Moody told them to go. Draco couldn’t picture himself using one of those curses, especially the Cruciatus or the Avada Kedavra. 

Unfortunately, Alastor Moody was popular with the Gryffindors. Draco and Ron had a quick argument about it, which settled only when Harry chose Draco’s side and Hermione admitted the man was surely biased.

“He shouldn’t have treated you like that,” Harry complained.

Hermione nodded and patted Draco’s shoulder. “He was unprofessional. He made Neville upset in our class”.

“Susan Bones was upset in ours,” Draco added. He leaned in Hermione’s comforting touch and, being the mature one, stuck out his tongue at Ron.

“Well, even my dad says the man is crazy,” Ron admitted with defeat.

Draco showed him a smug grin.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Hermione continued patting Draco. He narrowed his eyes. It looked like she was trying to butter him up for something. “About house elves”.

“Hermione!” Harry hissed. “I told you to leave him alone!”

“Not again, Hermione,” Ron sighed. “I told you already. They like it!”

Ignoring their protests, Hermione quickly informed Draco she had learnt house elves were enslaved and she was trying to research how it happened and why nobody did anything about it. 

Harry not being on the same page made him hesitate about what to believe. It took Draco only a minute of processing to decide Hermione was right. He started to feel shame again. He had been blind about the house elves, when his father mistreated them in his own house, the same way he had been blind about everything wrong in his upbringing.

However, his shame was reduced once he realized even Ron hadn’t seen the issue before Hermione told him, and he kept disagreeing. For once, he was on the right side before a Weasley.

“I think you are right,” Draco said eagerly. His smugness reappeared when Ron’s face turned baffled and even Harry was surprised.

“It’s certainly different in other countries. When I was in France I noticed they don’t really own house elves like we do”.

“Really?” Hermione brightened up. “They work under fair conditions, they receive money, they have sick leaves and retirement pay?”

Draco tried to remember the time he spent with the French Malfoys. “Not exactly. I mean, the house elves I met hated money or gold as payment. They are not enslaved in France, though. They choose where to work freely, they don’t have to obey everything, and they don’t have the clothes restriction or punishments. If one house elf chooses to live with a magical family it is considered an honour. The family must provide the elf with magic, a place to rest, food and many other things in exchange for their help”.

“But if they’re not getting paid it’s still not okay,” Hermione protested.

“I’m not an expert, but I think it’s different,” Draco said. He remembered the child stories his parents read him, about wizards and witches making deals with other magical creatures. He remembered old traditions and the books he had read. There was no big explanation about house-elves, but there were hints.

“For example, goblins are okay handling money and they do business with our kind, but merpeople or giants would never accept a galleon. They use other methods to exchange goods. Centaurs accept gold to some degree, but it’s out of necessity, because they’re few and they’re forced to make deals with us. Maybe house elves don’t like the concept of money either. I know their magic pushes them to places that accumulate magic to take care of the people living there, and ancient sentient houses are especially attractive for them. I think someone decided to abuse the nature of their magic to enslave them, but I don’t know how”.

Hermione pondered his words. “You may be right. Do you know where to research this?”

“I’m pretty sure the books I have at the manor do not expand on house elves' history. Maybe Blaise or Daphne know more. He’s traveled a lot with his mother, and Daphne has all kinds of rare books about history”.

“I’ll ask them,” Hermione seemed very driven. Draco praised her determination and offered to ask the French Malfoys for more information. She hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, Draco. You have helped me more than these two in days”.

“Hey,” Ron protested weakly.

“You can count on me if you need anything”.

Hermione took one step away from the hug, but kept her arms on Draco’s shoulders, beaming.

“Oh, I was thinking about forming an organization to fight for their rights”.

“It’s a great idea. But let’s research first, okay? And it would be good to talk to some of them to learn what they need and what they want right now before taking any measure”.

“Of course. Research first”.

“Don’t you think you have hugged him long enough?” Harry interrupted.

Hermione immediately took her hands off his shoulders.

Draco rolled his eyes at him. What was his problem? 

“I’ll ask Daphne about the books. Ron, would you come with me?” Hermione asked quickly.

Ron agreed and they walked away like they were escaping something. Weird.

Harry watched his friends go. He glanced at Draco with a sheepish smile.

“Hagrid wrote to me saying we could go to visit him any afternoon. Maybe we can see the hippogriffs again. Do you want to go with me today?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah”.

Draco scrutinized Harry’s hopeful face. They had time before dinner. And Draco liked the hippogriffs. And he also liked spending time with Harry when he wasn’t behaving strangely.

“Sure. Let’s go”.

………

Despite not having Quidditch, Draco found the way to fly in the castle. He convinced his friends to ask Professor Snape to sign them a pass. The man had refused at first, but Draco, Pansy and Theo wore him out. Brooms were sent from their homes and soon they were ready to fly anytime before the sunset. Draco had not gotten to fly with all his childhood friends in Hogwarts since first year.

It was different from flying with the Quidditch team. It was infinitely better. He had fun racing with Pansy, shoving Theo playfully and confusing Vince and Greg with his feints and sharp turns. They were allowed to fly only on the pitch, but they escaped and flew over the grounds.

Draco convinced Harry and Ron to ask McGongall for a pass. The woman was easier to convince, ready to grant the Gryffindors the opportunity to practice. All the Weasleys followed their example.

With Harry’s help, Draco managed to merge the two groups one day. The twins somehow acquired a Quaffle, they got school brooms for Ron and Ginny, and dared the Slytherins to a match with only Chasers and a Keeper. Draco convinced his friends to agree. Luckily their numbers were even, because Hermione, Blaise and Daphne didn’t want to play. They cheered from the stands with Luna Lovegood, who joined them to cheer for Ginny.

It was a very tight match. Harry hadn’t gotten any better at playing Chaser since that one time Draco played with him in the Burrow. Instead, he had gotten a lot worse. Harry seemed to be afraid of pushing Draco too hard, and he wouldn’t try to take the Quaffle from him. It took Draco elbowing him hard every time they passed each other for Harry to snap back and play like he meant it. 

The twins and Ginny were very good, and Ron was a decent Keeper. On his team, Vince was chosen as their keeper. He was as good as Ron. Pansy was vicious and she wasn’t afraid of getting on scuffles with Ginny or the twins. Greg was a bit slow on passes, but his size alone helped him to block the path of whoever had the Quaffle. Theo wasn’t fond of fighting for the ball, but he was fast, he had great aim and he knew to pass to either Pansy or Draco. 

They were very competitive, but no dangerous fouls were committed. Draco played his barely-legal tricks, elbowed the twins whenever he could and almost made Ginny fall off her broom. In his defense, they were very close to the ground. Ginny, being the fiery player he remembered, pushed him back so hard he fell. He wasn’t hurt, so he jumped back on his Nimbus and flew right to the Quaffle, grinning like a maniac.

The teams were too closely matched, and in the end they were forced to finish their match tied, because the sun was setting and McGonagall would take points if they were flying at night time. Everyone had fun and agreed they had to play another time.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t find the time before Beauxbatons and Durmstrang’s delegations arrived.

Professor Snape chose a couple of students from each year and gave them a stern talking about showing example and influencing their peers into their best behaviour. From the fifth year up the chosen students were the prefects. Draco was pleasantly surprised Daphne and him were chosen for their year. Did it mean they would be prefects? He puffed his chest and smirked smugly until Professor Snape took him to the side.

“Mr. Malfoy, I trust you to lead your peers to the right behaviour. Make sure to stay on the good side of the international students and use this chance to show everyone the importance of making the right connections”.

Draco sighed, a bit bored. It was just like his father’s words all over again.

“I’m sure you will find perfect examples of successful students who rose from not so favourable backgrounds”.

Draco blinked. Professor Snape wanted him to mingle with people who weren’t rich or pure-blood? He already did that in Hogwarts. Maybe he meant to push his friends to expand their circle. It would be good for him and his plans of changing their very narrow and traditional minds. They were already changing, but it would be a good push in the right direction.

Buxbeautons’ headmistress and students arrived in a gigantic carriage with enormous winged horses. The headmistress definitely had some non-human blood or she was cursed, because she was as tall as Hagrid, maybe more. Their uniform robes were beautiful, unlike Hogwarts boring ones. Blaise grew fussy when one particular Beauxbatons girl walked close by. When Pansy followed her with glazed eyes, Draco realized she might be part veela. 

However, Durmstrang quickly erased Bexbauton’s out of Draco’s mind once he saw who one of the students was. He clung to Greg’s arm, trying to climb over him to see better.

“It’s Viktor Krum! Krum!” He hissed to Theo and then to Pansy.

Suddenly, the tournament had become a thousand times more interesting.